Three Things Every Parent Should Teach Their Kids

1. That the punishment for telling the truth will always be better than the punishment for lying. The reason kids lie is because they're afraid of getting in trouble- trust me, I know! In the beginning I used to always tell the truth and I quickly realized that I was in DEEP trouble. I decided early on that the punishment for lying could be no worse than the ones I received for telling the truth, plus I got the added bonus of doing what I wanted to do in the first place. If kids know that they can tell you the truth without being grounded for life, I think there's a much greater likelihood for an open dialogue and that your children will believe they can really come to you to talk instead of to someone else who might be giving them very bad advice.
2. Always stick up for the underdog. If someone is being bullied then you come to the other person's defense. There is no excuse or justification for cruel behavior and it's so easy to jump on the bandwagon of picking on someone who is too shy or too afraid to stick up for themselves. By coming to that person's defense you will show others your true character while highlighting that bully's lack of it. And while sometimes it may be hard to be that person who openly goes against and defends the person it's popular to pick on, ultimately, they'll feel better about themselves and others will soon recognize their true worth in spades!
3. No matter what they do, you will ALWAYS love and support them. A child or teenager should never be afraid to come to their parent because they fear their parent will stop loving them. They should know their parents will be their advocate throughout life, their biggest fan, and a constant source of love. Of course that doesn't mean a parent should just say "do what you want, it's your life," they should be a guide, pointing out when their child is in the wrong and what they should do to fix it. And sometimes, if their kid has wronged someone else, or hasn't followed through with something they should have, a parent should be there to right that wrong- not just for their child, but for the other person, and to be an example of magnanimous love. As parents, I believe it's our job to right our childrens wrongs until they do so, or else it's just a poor reflection on us as parents. But ultimately, every kid should know that beyond a shadow of a doubt, no matter how badly they screw up,- their parent(s) will always be there for them, with open arms full of love. Think of the prodigal son!

So that's my list, not surprisingly, it comes mostly from experience. Like yesterday when Spencer knocked down a huge display of cards at the hospital and refused to pick them up. I didn't leave them there for someone else to pick up my slack, I did it myself. Or how I didn't tell my parents I was pregnant for almost a month after I found out because I believed my mom would disown me. What do you think are the three most important things to teach a child?

Show Us Your Life - My Baby Shower

This week on Kelly's Korner Show Us Your Life, the topic is baby showers. My baby shower was given to me by my best friend Sara. She did such an amazing job, especially when it came all the weird things I wanted and didn't want (Like the Chik-Fil-A chicken nuggets I had to have!) Unfortunately, I was on my death bed with a 102 degree fever and I felt a little better than I expect to feel right before I die!

Even though I was so sick, it was still wonderful, the best day of pregnancy. It was the only time my mom was nice to me for more than 50% of the day and the only day I didn't cry- not even once! It was what I had been waiting for - a day to celebrate the upcoming arrival of my precious little girl rather than hiding away in my parent's house.

This was over two years ago, so making onesies at a baby shower was still a novel idea! Everyone made Spencer a onesie and they were all so cute.





Didn't my friends do a great job? I still have all the little outfits, they meant so much to me!

Sara made the cupcakes! I was so impressed, especially since she had so much to do to get ready. They were delicious, funfetti cupcakes- my absolute favorite.

Spencer still has that Care Bear!





I think I smiled more that day than I had in the previous 8 months combined.

That's me opening up my presents. (That's my mom on the right)
I never would have guessed that day that I'd be having Spencer in less than two weeks! During my pregnancy, Sara was my ROCK, without her, I'd have been lost. I am so lucky to have had such an amazing friend. Even now, two years later, I'm still filled with gratitude for all she did for me.

**More Show You How I Live Posts**

Favorite Vacation Spot
I Have a Child. The Jig is Up.
Here Comes the Maid Of Honor

When I Grow Up

That's how I still think in my head, "when I grow up I want to be a ..." and then I realize I am grown up. But even that doesn't really deter me, I like to think about what I would want to do if I could do anything I wanted. If there was nothing holding me back, money was not an issue, and I already possessed the ability/education/talent requirements - what would I do?

When I was three years old I knew exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up- a Fire Fighter, a McDonald's worker, and Strawberry Shortcake. In the bliss that is youth, these seemed like the best jobs in the world, I mean, what could be better than getting to slide down a pole everyday, playing with a hose that shoots out geysers of water AND having a cute spotted dog that would be my best friend? Nothing except working at McDonald's, where I could eat chicken nuggets dipped in honey whenever I wanted and then go to play in the huge ball pit. Of course I was going to do all of this while also being Strawberry Shortcake.

As I got older people would always say to me "I bet you want to grow up and be a famous doctor just like your Dad!" And oh how I did. I wanted to be a neonatologist until I got to high school. By then I realized that science wasn't exactly my strong suit and I loved history and government classes. I never stopped wanting to be a doctor, I just began thinking about doing something different. Even after I applied and had gotten into William and Mary, I was fully planning on majoring in both Government and Biology, that way I could postpone having to make the rest of my life decision for four more years.

Then came that first Bio class... lets just say it left me irrevocably scarred and I never looked back, I was going to be lawyer and that was it. Except it didn't work out like I had thought it would, but I'm fine with that. Even now, that's not what I would want to do if I could do it.
There are so many things I would love to do, it would take multiple lifetimes to accomplish half of them. And they're always changing, well they rotate in importance. So here's my number one, if I could be anything I wanted to be, job. Don't laugh at me!

Secretary of the Department of Health and Human Services. Health care reform is something that's very important to me. I'm not saying I agree with or want a national federally run health care program. But so many people are up in arms about not wanting their health care to be regulated, but it already is, it's regulated by insurance companies.

When I got pregnant with Spencer I had the best health insurance available- there were no better policies/plans than the one I had. And I was denied coverage for anything related to my or Spencer's prenatal health. Every single doctor's appointment I went to, I had to pay $500. And here's the real kicker, I was also ineligible for Medicaid and FAMIS because I had health insurance! Even before the astronomical hospital bill covering our 5 nights plus emergency surgery, I had already payed close to $7,000 in medical bills, and those were just routine checkups. Can you even imagine how much it would have cost if there had been any kind of complication?

And once again, I'm not trying to make a partisan statement here, but something needs to be done. Of course I don't have all the answers now, although I'm pretty sure I do (haha). But as the Secretary of DHSS, I would know EVERYTHING and everyone would listen to me and all would be right with the world.

Fantasy Land, how I love thee.

So what would you do, who would you be if could do anything?

A Long Short Goodbye

This is going to be/is a pretty stressful week for me, as Spencer's birthday is Friday and her party is Saturday. Everything's been ordered, invitations mailed, now it's just implementing all of it. Of course my house needs a good cleaning, but it's not that bad. But when you have an almost two year old, and a Great Dane puppy, you can't clean too far in advance, or else you'll just be doing it twice, or thrice, and what ever the -ice version of four is.

You can't do anything in advance really, just order, buy, and wait for the horrendous day when you know you have to do everything at once. It's just hanging over my head right now, and I've never been all that great at implementation. I'm a much better planner than doer. Almost every paper I've ever written that received an A was done in an all night marathon. When I spent days or weeks trying to write one paper, I'd write a few pages, come back the next day and maybe decide to go with a new theme, or the flow was off, the tone different. I'd second guess, rewrite, re-edit, waste loads of time, and erode my self-confidence in the process. For me, long term projects lack coherency- I'm a sprinter, not a marathon type of girl.

Of course this leads to a great deal of stress and is probably not the smartest or healthiest way to handle anything, but so far, it's the one that produces the best results. But I'm open to suggestions, always!
So today, while I was taking a break from my mental party preparations, Spencer and I went with my aunt to my Grandparent's house. It's finally been sold and the closing is tomorrow. I'd already said my goodbyes to the house and I really didn't want to go, I felt like it would be having to do it all over again. But my aunt really wanted someone to go with her, so we went. And I'm so glad I did.

I didn't go in again, but I got out with Spencer and walked around. It's the weirdest feeling to be somewhere and know that you'll never be there again. Even though it's only 15 minutes away and I could drive by anytime I want- I won't. I won't be able to go in the backyard or sit on the porch. This was it. I walked to the edge of the backyard and memories came flooding back. There's this concrete drain type thing in the back, that runs through the entire neighborhood- on the other side is just woods.
When I was a little girl I thought it was a real creek, because water was always flowing through it, and I used to dare myself to jump over it. My Grandpa built a plank for me to cross it, like a pirate, and then I'd be in "the woods" which was very scary for me. It's where I saw a deer for the first time, and I'd put out treats for her so she'd come back and visit. I can remember my Grandpa telling me to be very quiet or else she'd get scared and run away.

The "Creek"

As I got older, I rarely headed into the yard and the creek became more overgrown. When I saw it today, it looked nothing like my memories of it, but it still brought tears to my eyes. I have a very difficult time letting go of things/feelings, but I've done a really good job with it in terms of Grandparents. Not forgetting them, but knowing that they needed to be together to be happy and if that meant they'd have to be in Heaven to do so, well, okay. But going back there reminded me of a much happier time with them, it made me forget their last awful days, and it was tears of happiness that I quickly brushed away from my face. (Spencer does NOT like it when I cry).

My Grandpa was my only grandparent who got to meet to Spencer. My parents initially tried to hide my pregnancy from everyone but my Grandma died when I was 6 months pregnant, putting an end to that. My Dad told him shortly thereafter and when I saw him the next day, he gave me a long hug and said "We lost our girl, but God's given us another one." I'll never forget that- his words, his expression, his embrace. He was so loving and supportive of me.

I thought I'd already said goodbye, I sprinted right through and tried not to look too far back. But Spencer's upcoming birthday has really made me very reflective and emotional. I decided I don't need to say goodbye, I have two decades worth of fabulous memories and stories to keep my company. So much of the grieving process is spent on the final days, probably because the good days are too hard to remember. But going back to their house today reminded me of all those wonderful times and cherished memories. It wasn't a goodbye today.

Shake It Like a Polaroid Picture

When I was pregnant with Spencer, I spent hours upon hours researching the best DVDs, CDs, and books that would make my little Mango a Baby Genius. I think I own almost every Baby Einstein DVD that ever made. She also has a ton of Baby Genius DVDs and a gazillion other make-your-baby-smart ones.



I started playing them for her when she was around 1-2 months. It didn't bother me that she didn't pay attention, because what baby that young does? When she was about 4 months old and she still refused to watch any of the "smart" DVDs I started to get worried. Doesn't every child love Baby Einstein? But while she refused to watch what I wanted her to, she sat still and paid attention to The Gilmore Girls, Alias (reruns on TNT) and Dancing With the Stars.


For Christmas that year, my mom got her That Baby DVD which changed our lives. It's a music video of popular songs danced to and acted out by toddlers and preschoolers. She danced and laughed and would stop crying every time I put it on. Each time I tried to trick her with a BE video, she would become hysterical until I put on her show.



That Baby DVD worked its magic for a long time, but by the time she was 9 months old, she was onto That 70's Show. I know what you're thinking, "what type of mother lets her baby watch that kind of tv?" But I was game for anything that held her attention for 5+ minutes. You try watching the exact same 30 minute DVD hundreds of times and I promise that you would let your kid watch anything.


Since she turned one, we've gone through several tv show stages; The Backyardigans, Reba, and HI-5. She refuses to watch any kind of regular cartoon or Sesame Street. This past week we stumbled across a new show, are you ready for this one?


Hip Hop Harry


I have never seen her have such a reaction to a show before. She becomes engrossed, trying to imitate the dancing moves they are doing. She waves her arms back and forth and dances as if was at a reggae concert. It's hilarious to watch and I've tried for days to video tape her doing it, but each time she sees the camera she sits down and pouts. (But I'll keep trying!)



It's hard for me believe that after all the time and effort I put into trying to make her the next Marie Curie or Sylvia Plath (minus the depression and suicide) that she picks Hip Hop Harry to watch. But it also makes me laugh, because she's being herself and doing what she likes. That's amazing to me- she's her own little person!


I blame myself for her dancing up a storm, as I laid the foundation for it when I was pregnant. I watched So You Think You Can Dance when I was her incubater. When the music would start I could feel her boogying in my tummy. After she was born we continued to watch. As Sabra became the first female winner of the series, I proclaimed Spencer as the next Cyd Charisse, the next Julie Kent, and the next Anna Pavlova all wrapped into one.


I guess SYTYCD and all that in utero and newborn baby dancing really did leave an impression on my babe, because she is the happiest when she is grooving to the rhythm. I guess this is the part where I finally admit she's never going to watch Baby Einstein, so does anyone want to buy some new and some lightly used make-your-baby-smart DVDs? Although I have to warn you- your baby will like them or they won't, and there's nothing you can do about except watch Hip Hop Harry. Over and over and over.

TMI - But Not Too Much

When I was pregnant with Spencer, I worked part-time at a day care. It was probably the worst thing I could have done, because I got very sick during my 8th month. Consequently, Spencer was in distress, and she was born a month early. But that's not what this is about.


While I was working there, 8 months pregnant, one of the teachers stopped to ask me for something. She pulled me to the corner and whispered "Do you have a tampon on hand?"


I cocked my head to the side and looked at her like "huh?" did you really just ask me that? She saw the look on my face and said "Or a pad, either one." I couldn't believe I was going to have to explain this to a teacher.

I said, "Um, I'm pregnant. You don't get your period when you're pregnant." She looked down at my huge protruding belly, saying "Oh yeah, that's right... [pause] so you don't have an old one at the bottom of your purse, or anything?"

At this point I almost felt badly for her, as she was obviously in some serious need of a tampon. But I said, "No, I took them all out. They depressed me." I guess she finally got the picture, because she stopped asking me, but she gave the me weirdest look.

What kind of weirdo finds tampons depressing? ME! Each time I saw one, I remembered the day I thought I was going to need it- but nothing came. Every day after that I anxiously awaited the arrival of cramps, crankiness, etc., and that tampon just sat there, mocking me.

I remembered that my parents hated me, I had no clue how I was going to finance a child, and that I had no idea what I was going to do with a baby. Kind of stupid that a feminine product could jolt me like that, when all I had to do was look down and see my stomach, but it did.

These days I have a love love relationship with my time of the month. I don't curse it, or complain, or dread it's arrival. I'm sure this will change one day, when I want to have another baby- if I want to have another one, that is, but it will be PLANNED! I'll look forward to throwing away the Tampax, instead of crying my eyes out as I threw each one away.

I regret not enjoying my pregnancy, especially since Spencer has brought me so much joy. I didn't anticipate the overwhelming love I was going to feel for her when I was so wrapped up feeling sorry for myself. I wish I could have treasured it instead of being consumed by hopelessness. And I take full responsibility for it- I let other people dictate my happiness, or lack thereof, instead of focusing on the little Mango inside of me (I called her Mango until she was born).

For the most part, I try to block out those 8 months of my life, but sometimes I'll see something that will remind me of them. And now, 20 months removed from the situation, I can laugh at a lot of it. Today, as I bought a box of feminine products, was the first time I remembered that teacher asking me for a tampon. And in the middle of the store, I started laughing out loud.

I'm hoping that will continue to happen- that I'll start to remember the good parts about Spencer's eight months inside of me, instead of trying to forget the entire thing. So what about you, Internet, has anyone ever asked you a really stupid question? What did you say?

Happy Birthday Grandpa

Today is my Grandpa's birthday, he would have been 86 years old. He passed away last year, right before his 85th Birthday. We were dealing with funeral arrangements, etc.; we were so immersed in thoughts of him, that it didn't feel like it was his first birthday without him here.So to me, this is the first time February 26th feels sad.

My Grandpa was a very intelligent man that loved baseball. He LOVED the "Cubbies," as he called them, and anxiously awaited baseball season every year. He played the snare drum in the Army's "Drum and Bugle Corps.," and still remembered almost all of the French he learned while stationed in Paris in WWII. He voted in every election and befriended every dog he ever met. (My Josie dog was his favorite and she was crazy about him!) He would called me "Bu-fee-ul" because I started calling him "Beautiful" when I was two, only it came out "Bu-fee-ul." He read the newspaper every day, even as his health declined and it would take him almost all day to do so. He cried the day that he took me aside to tell me my Grandma had Alzheimer's Disease.

My Grandpa's death was different than any of my other grandparents because he was ready to go; he wanted to be with his Honey. When my Grandma passed away, nine months before Grandpa (5/05), the light in his eyes left, his purpose for being here, gone. Each week that he could, he would buy three perfect red roses and set them by her chair.  Red roses were her favorite.

When my aunt was very young, my grandparents brought her with them to the mall one day. Somehow they got separated and they had always told her if that happened, she should stay put and they would find her. She was scared and sat down underneath of a circular clothes rack. My grandparents were searching for her when all of a sudden they heard a little voice saying "Honey, I'm here Honey," and "Honey, Honey, Honey!"

She was just a little girl and she thought her parents real names were Honey, because that's how they always spoke to each other. They held hands, he always got out and opened her car door, she kept the red dress she was wearing the night they met. They were married for 60 years, (60 years!) and I never remember them fighting. He loved her; loved her in the way all women want to be loved.

My Grandma died when I was six months pregnant with Spencer. She had Alzheimer's Disease, and at the end her mind was locked in the past. She spoke to her Honey like they were still newlyweds living in New Jersey. She never knew I was pregnant, but my Grandpa liked to think that primordial Spencer and my Grandma got to know each other then, in Heaven.

I knew that he was going to die and I was at peace with that. He believed his Love was waiting for him, was anxiously anticipating his arrival, and he had never- could never- disappoint her. My Grandma was one of the luckiest ladies in the world- she was loved for 60 years by a great man who spent his life faithfully devoted to her.


Happy Birthday Grandpa, I Love You!

My Gift

When I was growing up my mother always used to say that she hoped and prayed God would give me a child just like myself. Although when asking for this child, I’m sure she meant that God would give it to me when I was married, and not one second before. But oh well, you can’t always get what you want (to Rolling Stones tune). Being the wise ass I have always been, I used to say “Me too, I want a daughter just like me because I’ll know exactly what to do with her and I love her even more because I know what she is going through. Pam would get this knowing little smile on her face and I would be like “ha, I told her!”

I’m pretty sure she told me this at least once a week from the age of 8 until right before I told her I was pregnant. In the midst of all her misery about my “situation,” the one bright spot for her was that now there was the possibility that I would finally know what it was like to have a child like myself. Surely, God would not give me a well behaved child, the child she had wanted, since I had committed this grievous sin against my family. At this point I was terrified that God was going to punish me for doing this to my family by giving me a special needs child. I was very scared that there would be something actually wrong with her, I could have cared less about behavior issues.

When she was born PERFECT and BEAUTIFUL, I breathed a sigh of relief- God didn’t stick it to me. Fast forward to today, actually to the last few months, and I’m thinking that maybe I shouldn’t have laughed at Pam all those years. I’m not sure if it’s genetics, or prayer, or punishment, but I do know, that Baby is my child. She is strong willed, stubborn, brilliant (haha), creative, and has selective hearing.

Spencer did not want to take her afternoon nap today and I finally gave up and put her in her playpen. This did not sit well with her and she decided that she didn’t want to wear her clothes. So she started trying to take them off. I said, “No.” She looked at me and gave me a beaming smile and continued to take off her shirt. I said, “NO” firmly and looking her right in the eye with my best no nonsense voice. She looked right back at me, smiled again and began to laugh as she started taking off her pants. Finally I said, “Spencer, Spencer White, I said NOOOOOO!” She looked at me and flung herself on the floor of the playpen, and began having a 2 minute long temper tantrum.

This whole time though, I was trying not to laugh at her, because it was just SO like me. The whole, “I dare you to stop me smile,” followed by the wail of submission. In that moment I knew what Pam had been talking about, and for someone who was the best child ever, I must have been a big let down.
But I was right about one thing- I LOVE her all the more for being my child, the child who is just like me. So punishment or gift, she is everything I said I always wanted.