From now on, please look for my blog posts here: http://www.meaganfrancis.com/wordpress. And update your bookmarks and feeds, puh-lease!
I'll be shutting this one down in a few weeks or so, after I've given everyone a chance to head over to the new digs. Thanks for reading!
Large families make kids short!
From an article at the BBC: "Having an older sibling, particularly a brother, can stunt growth, work suggests. Experts said the condition of the womb after the first pregnancy may be a factor."
I'm chuckling to myself because I got pregnant with Jacob young, after some years of partying. I'm guessing my womb wasn't in its peak condition at that time. Eating well, getting more sleep, and taking care of myself since has done wonders for the rest of my health--wonder if the ol' uterus is feeling better too?
Large families make parents die!
From another article at the BBC: "US researchers looked at 21,000 couples living in Utah between 1860 and 1985, who bore a total of 174,000 children. It was found the more children couples had, the worse their health and the more likely they were to die early."
Of course, this just MIGHT have something to do with the fact that postpartum care isn't what it could be, and certainly in the 1800s and early 1900s what we would consider the most basic tenets of good postpartum and other medical care didn't exist (antibiotics not available, hygeine and other infection-fighting processes questionable) many women died from infections and other postpartum complications that nowadays *should* be easier to prevent, spot, and treat. (The United States still isn't doing so great in this regard overall, I'll admit).
The links could also be corrollary--parents who have lots of kids may have been poorer overall, with less access to medical care or good nutrition. And certainly spacing babies too close together can be troublesome for a mother's health (and may not be great for the baby's development), particularly when it happens over and over. However, though it's not a 100% method of birth control, exclusive breastfeeding can delay ovulation and make "getting pregnant too soon" somewhat less likely.
But I'd have to see a lot more "proof" than these particular studies to convince me that big families, in and of themselves, CAUSE unhealthy parents or short kids.
I'm all for research, but studies like these are just meaningless in the context of my life. We aren't statistics, we're a family. To some extent, pregnancy and childbirth always carry a risk--but for those people who want to be parents, it's a risk worth taking. How are numbers from 1860--a very different time in medical history--relevant to my family's health today? What's the point?
And as for short kids, would Owen unload his older brothers for the sake of a few inches of growth? I know I wouldn't. Though that's easy for me to say, I suppose--as the fifth child born to my parents, I'm a few inches taller than my sister, almost as tall as one of my brothers and taller than most of the other women in the family. Anecdotal, I know. Maybe my mother's womb was in great condition after years of smoking, breathing second-hand smoke and knocking back Ernest & Gallio like it was lemonade!
I'll leave you with a link to the reaction of a Catholic father of seven. He'snd a man who obviously knows the ins and outs of data collection, statistics, and science reporting, and he's got some issues with the second study.
Edited to add: I thought this story arguing that most scientific studies are overblown or sometimes completely erroneous was especially timely!
What do you think?
This is what I get for setting my Google alerts to "large families". I stumbled across this tonight and had to chuckle--not so much at the question posed, but at the phrase "love dilution"! I don't have an account at that site so I can't answer over there, but if I could, I'd ask: Did you love your parents less when you fell in love with your spouse or significant other? Do you love your siblings less each time you make a new close friend? Can love really be DILUTED? Time, sure--there's only so much time in a day, but parents with families of all sizes make choices about how to spend that time, and most of the time we can be amazingly resourceful about making sure all the myriad important people in our lives get some of our time. If we really don't have enough time to spend with our kids, something is out of balance, but it doesn't automatically follow that it's because there are TOO MANY KIDS!. And as others pointed out, you can't underestimate the value of siblings, who will probably outlive parents anyway. I consider my siblings to be some of the most important resources/gifts/people in my life, and any "love dilution" we may have created on my parents' part (snort!) was more than made up for by the fact that they are all here.
The timing for being invited to participate in the Kajeet Blog Tour for Mom Central couldn’t have been better. My kids had been bugging me for a cell phone for months—nay, over a year—and I’d steadfastly put my foot down, but was beginning to waver. In fact, I was in the midst of writing my latest column about how I’d decided to give in and get them a phone this fall, when I found out about the tour. Here’s an excerpt from the column (as always you can read the whole column here)
On one point I remained firm: MY kids were NOT getting a cell phone. "So let's just drop it," I told Isaac.
Always one to value persistence over obedience, Isaac didn't drop it. Not that day. Not the next day. Not the following week or in subsequent months. He worked cell phones into conversations about everything from homework to his behavior: ("If I had a cell phone," he reasoned, "my behavior would be better because I would just talk on the phone all day instead of getting into trouble." Wrong angle, son.)
Media has this insidious way of sidling up to you and squeezing into the cracks in your life. When my kids were small, I swore they'd never have video games and never watch TV. Then I realized that an episode of "SpongeBob" here and there could be a life saver for a tired mom.
Daddy decided that it would be fun to play Xbox with the boys. I got hooked on "Big Love" and decided I had to have HBO. Now, we own pretty much every video game ever invented, as well as several computers and On Demand.
Still, cell phones felt different. They're meant to be taken out of the house, which makes supervision difficult. They make a very expensive toy that is likely to be lost. And unlike video games, they're a product of the adult world. To my mind, seeing a little kid walking around talking on a cell phone is like seeing a little kid order a latte at Starbucks: just plain wrong.
As my big boys get older and more independent, however, I'm starting to see the value of keeping a connection with them while they're out in the world. There are a lot of what-if situations - walking to and from school, staying over at a friend's house - that I suddenly started considering in which a cell phone could come in handy in case of emergency.
So I caved.
Despite my mobile misgivings, both my kids and I were very excited when the sleek blue Kajeet arrived last week. For them, it represented an answer to a wish they’d held on to fervently for months. For me, it was an opportunity to look like a good guy rather than the cranky “when I was a kid, we had to walk uphill through snow two miles in each direction just to USE the phone!” sort. And their dad got to play around with a brand-new techie toy.
We've been using the phone for a week now, and here's my thoughts on the good and the not-so-good:
The fantastic:
o The Kajeet phone looks and acts just like a regular cell phone. It has games, a selection of ringtones, a camera, and all those other features that seem to make a cell phone desirable to the tween-and-teen set (while also coming with cute little decals to decorate the phone to a younger child’s liking).
o It puts control in the parent’s hands. This was important to me, since I don’t quite trust my kids not to call 900 numbers or maybe place some prank orders for pizza delivery if they get bored (Hey, I did both those things once or twice at their age, and I was using an old-fashioned phone connected TO THE WALL in our foyer!). Anyway, parents can decide how and when the phones can be used. For instance, you can set the phone not to ring during school hours, or you—or your child—can block certain numbers (handy, I suppose, if your kid was receiving harassing phone calls from a classmate).
o It helps kids take responsibility, too. By logging in to their online “wallet”, kids can see how much money they’ve got left to spend on fee-per-use features like sending photos and texts. That way they can make decisions about how to spend—or save—the money in their accounts.
o The phone itself is affordable. There are several options from about $50 to about $100, depending on features and style.
o No commitment. Having been burned by never-ending contracts with companies whose crappy customer service makes me wring my hands every month, I really appreciate the pay-as-you-go, no-contract, no-hassle aspect of these phones.
The not-so-fantastic:
· Nickel and diming. If you want a phone that your teen can yakkedy-yak on all day (so as to free up your landline in case there’s a power outage or a fire or something almost as important), this might not be the best choice. There are a lot of little fees—25 cents to send a photo, 5 cents to send or receive a text message, and 35 cents a day just to keep service (though you can suspend service if you’re going on vacation or won’t be using the phone for a while)--that can add up quickly. But if you’re using the phone like we are—as a backup plan in case your kids need to get in touch with you—these fees shouldn’t get out of hand.
· It’s still a cell phone. And frankly, I’m still not sold on whether it’s a good idea for kids to have them at all. $50-$100 may be inexpensive for a cell phone, but it’s still plenty pricey when you consider that kids seem to view it as a toy, not an important communication device. And do our kids really NEED to have access to constant electronic media? Sigh. Try as I might, however, I realize that I can’t keep stuff like this away from my kids forever, and the Kajeet phone really does make a great compromise between what a kid wants…and what a mom needs.
Over at Largerfamilies.com, we're talking about keeping family decorum in stressful situations like church services, graduation, or concerts. Any tips or tricks you'd like to share?
And some bloggy goodness that caught my eye today: Kim's excellent post about school volunteering over at the Chicago Moms Blog. I guess I'm broadcasting my lack of career savvy when I say that it had never before occured to me that one might be so calculating about school volunteering. I usually pitch in to whatever a) sounds like fun--or at least like I won't want to scratch out my own eyeballs after a few hours of it (as I would if I had to, say, cut out shapes from construction paper. I am surprised I graduated first grade with these cutting skills), b) is needed--whether desperately or just "well, this could stand to get done) and c) sounds like something I could actually fit into my life. In the past this has included writing and editing, data entry, and co-directing the school play...not as exciting, nor probably as useful, as heading up huge fundraisers, 'tis true, but all rewarding activities in their own way. And yes, I did get to know some of the "mover and shaker" parents while doing it, which netted me some nice casual friendships, but not much else (certainly no job offers or big contracts). Was it supposed to? Maybe this is why it's a good thing I'm a freelancer, and not trying to scale my way up the corporate ladder. Either way, Kim's post gave me a chuckle and also got me to thinking about how I can make the most difference at my boys' new school. Next step? Suggesting a SCRIP program to the principal...and offering to head it up. (gulp!) Watch out, world. My resume is about to get even more eclectic!
A week or two ago I posed this question on the Chicago Moms Blog: "What's the strangest thing you've ever listed--or seen somebody else list--on Freecycle?
Thinking about it inspired my latest column:
Last week, while I was wringing my hands about buying China-made products, it occurred to me that if I'd really been willing to put my money where my mouth was, I'd have avoided buying any new school supplies whatsoever. Impossible, you say? Then obviously, you haven't been turned on to Freecycle yet.
Yes, I said FREEcycle. It's a Web community based on the concept of reduce, reuse, and recycle: instead of using up resources to buy what you want or need new at the store while somebody else throws their unwanted stuff in the landfill, why not see if you need or want the stuff they're looking to unload?
The genius part of Freecycle is that, using the power of the Internet, it allows you to "go shopping" for the stuff you want. For free. It works like this: you join the Freecycle e-mail list for your region, then you can send e-mails to the entire group making an offer of something you no longer want or requesting an item you hope somebody else in the group has. Or you can just watch the listings and see what people are unloading today, and if it interests you, send the offering party an e-mail declaring your interest.
So far, Freecycle's worked out fantastically for us. When we moved, I used it to unload a whole bunch of stuff we couldn't take with us, like a beautiful - but heavy and unwieldy - vintage piano (lucky recipient!), a king-sized mattress that had been bounced on by four kids no fewer than 10,495 times (not so lucky recipient!), and some old, mismatched, falling-apart furniture.
I've gotten some great stuff, too - a cell phone, a bed frame, books, kids' clothes and toys in great condition - all for free.
Of course, not everything listed on Freecycle is what I'd consider a great find. While I do believe that one man's trash is another man's treasure, I am always surprised when items like trash bags full of dryer lint are snapped up (don't people have plenty of their own?). In fact, sometimes, when the kids are torturing each other - and me - and I need a laugh, reading the Freecycle listings can be a source of entertainment.
There are the ones that read like a bad joke, like...
OFFER: Birdcage with missing door. Good for birds who are too old and feeble to fly out of cage. Also gently used cat litter box. Must take both.
Or the stuff you wouldn't want even if they paid you to take it away ...
OFFER: Four frozen string cheese sticks. Cheese sticks are partially unwrapped and past their expiration dates but might still be good.
Or requests that are so optimistic, it's kind of touching:
WANTED: Nintendo Wii in box, like-new condition with controllers and games.
And those who combine their ambitious requests with demands for strange and unusual accommodations:
WANTED: Authentic Samurai swords. Must be within walking distance of my house because I don't drive and I have severe social anxiety so I cannot take the bus. Must leave all doors open because my obsessive-compulsive disorder makes it impossible for me to touch doorknobs. When you see me approaching please place swords on the porch then back slowly away with your hands in the air. Serious responses only!!!
Inspired, I've been thinking about how I might be able to unload a bunch of unwanted stuff and maybe get my house cleaner simultaneously, in one all-inclusive post. It could read like this:
OFFER: Huge lot of Happy Meal toys, most with broken parts. Scatter over the floor to make a great middle-of-the-night booby trap for possible burglars. They'll never go near your house again after getting Princess Fiona's jagged plastic arm embedded in the soles of their feet! Must pick up the toys at my home. Expect to take at least an hour since they are still buried in the toy box and spread throughout the house and car.
And some days, I might be tempted to add: "Includes set of four children who belong to the toys. They are not so good at deterring burglars but can help you scatter the toys."
Any takers?
The ladies behind the Chicago Moms Blog and Silicon Valley Moms Blog have now launched a new momblog: the DC Metro Moms Blog. It's featuring a great group of women I've enjoyed reading on their own blogs, including Devra Renner from Parentopia and Pundit Mom. Check it out and read more about "the politics of parenting"!
When my sister read my column on buying China-made products this week, she joked that I sounded like a "wild-eyed radical". That's usually a pretty good indicator that in attempting to walk the line between concerned and shrill, I came down on the "shrill" side. But if you're interested in watching me get up on a soapbox, ride in on my high horse, and just in general spout off, go ahead and read it!
can't you see the excitement just oozing out of every pore?
(before I go on I feel compelled to assure readers that my boys really were looking forward to going to school, and I hadn't tortured, threatened, or otherwise frightened, harmed, or angered any of them before this picture was shot.)
This picture is so deliciously awful that I felt further compelled to break out the three kids into three separate pictures so that you could really drink in their expressions and get an idea of what I think might have been going on in their heads. First let's start with Jacob, my oldest:
"Today is the first day of fourth grade. Fourth grade is where my chances of ever becoming a world-famous video game creator are either made or broken. Therefore I must compose myself with the utmost decorum and seriousness."
On to William...
"Smile? Say cheese? What am I, a trained monkey?"
(In fairness to Will, he got sick later that day and was sent home after a couple of hours...so he must not have been feeling well)
And now the crowning glory....Isaac, my nearly-eight-year-old.
"How do I feel about starting second grade? How do I feel about brushing my hair? How do I feel about smiling for the camera? Wait, what did you ask again?"
Over at larger families we're talking about back to school, which reminded me of this column I wrote around this time last year:
The kids start school soon, and I’m stressing out about it. Not the school part, but my contribution—all behind-the-scenes stuff that gets the registration process rolling. Yes, it should have been done months ago, but I’m a procrastinator—there seems to be more paperwork required for getting one’s child enrolled in school than there is involved in becoming a United States citizen, and I admit I’ve found the whole process more than a little bit overwhelming.
There are immunization records, health forms, vision and hearing screening forms, and proof of residency forms, forms to apply for free and reduced-price hot lunches, forms to request a phone call when the grounds are sprayed with pesticides. There are discipline codes of conduct to initial, attendance policies to review, and important dates to post on the fridge.
I’m buckling under the pressure of all this homework, and I’m not even the student.
And of course, with the stress comes an urge to use inappropriate humor. For instance, on the “Home Language Survey”, I’m tempted to report that our family mostly communicates in Internet emoticons and abbreviations. Under “sex” on the enrollment form, I want to write “Isn’t he a little young to be thinking about that yet?”
But then I remember that class clowns aren’t usually the teacher’s pet. I can’t be sure, but I’m guessing parent clowns are not high on the list, either.
It all reminds me of the vast difference between parenting during the summer and during the academic year. During summer break, everything is so simple: the kids run around half-dressed and barefoot, and nobody cares. It’s easy to throw together a balanced meal on the grill…night after night. There’s no reason to find clean socks in the morning…or at least, no real need to make sure they match. The boys are free to dress to meet their own personal sense of style: For Jacob, it means honoring his penchant for matching camouflage with plaid; for Isaac, wearing shorts he outgrew last summer with a shirt he won’t grow into for at least two years; and if the daily wardrobe were left up to Will, he’d never put on more than a diaper (well, he’d probably go without the diaper, but that’s more freedom than I can handle)
No lunches—appropriately healthy, yet normal-enough not to make my kids stand out as weirdoes, yet filled with items that need no refrigeration—to pack. No homework folders to sign and return. No milk money to remember. No Scholastic book orders to fill out. No picture day to remember.
But if you’re like me, after a while the lack of routine can start to get to you.
I started off the season, like most people I know, thrilled about the free-for-all temperament of summer break: its flexible bedtimes, days that go on and on even after the kids are in bed, afternoons spent lounging in a lawn chair or running through a sprinkler. But I admit that as the summer wears on I’ve begun to crave the structure fall brings to our daily lives: pre-determined waking times, a set schedule, and a sunset in the early evening, reminding us that it’s time to start winding down. Sand and endless sun and lawn chairs are great, but sometimes we all need a stack of paperwork to remind us of the great cycle that dictates the seasons of our lives: a time to run willy-nilly, and a time to get down to business.
So as much as I love the summer, I’m also looking forward to the back-to-school rush. I’m going to attack this stack of paperwork—dreary as it may seem—with something resembling zeal. And when I’m done, maybe I’ll go out and buy a new bottle of glue, some shiny folders, and a stack of freshly-sharpened pencils.
For myself, of course.
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What back-to-school task could you stand to live without?
