DotMoms

In the News: Stay safe during “trauma season”

Kids get hurt more often when the weather's nice, we know this. But did you know that some ER doctors call it, “Trauma season”?

Yikes.

According to a recent story in the Akron Beacon Journal, nearly half a million U.S. kids end up in the emergency room each year with injuries suffered at the playground (205,000), on “unpowered toys with wheels” (scooters, inline skates, skateboards; 200,000), and on trampolines (90,000). Most of these injuries could have been prevented.

Tired as I get of the same old outdoor safety tips, this article opened my eyes to a few things. Well, as open as they could be while I was cringing.

You see, just the other day I let my sons, ages four and six, ride their scooters without helmets (they don’t go fast yet). Also, my neighbor has a little backyard trampoline that they have played on unattended.

What’s wrong with a trampoline, you ask? Brace yourself.

“Health professionals are so distraught by the injuries they cause – the number and severity – that many have a message for parents: Remove the trampoline, now!”

“We see neck injuries, really terrible injuries,” says Denise Dowd, of Children’s Mercy Hospital in Kansas City, Mo., in the article. “Most of the time the injuries occur when more than one kid is jumping."

As for helmets, they're not just for bicycles, Dowd stresses. To prevent head injuries, kids must wear them when riding “anything with wheels,” she says, and throw in some wrist guards to prevent serious wrist injuries. Children under 16 should never ride all-terrain vehicles, she adds. “Kids don’t have the maturity to operate them safely.”

The story features many safety tips. Here are some that I hadn't heard before:

• Children should remove helmets at the playground, because the straps can get caught and cause choking.

• No child under age six should use a trampoline, and adults, preferably two, should supervise at all times.

• No somersaults on trampolines. "Landing on the head or neck can cause devastating injuries."

• When riding scooters or skateboards, "avoid surfaces with gravel and loose dirt," and remember that wearing a helmet "can prevent 85 percent of head injuries."

My six-year-old outgrew his helmet so, as of now, he doesn't even own one, never mind wrist guards. I'm hanging my head in shame. And planning a trip to Target.

Kris is a thirtysomething stay-at-home mom who lives north of Boston with her family.

Author Interview: Andrea Buchanan on "Literary Mama"

As a fan of the online literary magazine Literary Mama.com, I was thrilled to get my hands on Literary Mama, Reading for the Maternally Inclined, an anthology edited by Amy Hudock and Andrea J. Buchanan. LiteraryMama.com features some of the most compelling writing about motherhood available, and the book does not disappoint. I found myself riveted as I read, weeping, laughing and, ultimately, feeling not so alone in my journey through motherhood. It's a book that I plan to give to the special moms in my life for years to come. Editor Andrea Buchanan recently answered some of my questions.

Kris: First, I'm curious. You're the managing editor of the online magazine LiteraryMama.com. How did the site come to be?

Andrea Buchanan: The site grew out of Amy Hudock's real-time writing group in Berkeley. I met Amy shortly after "Mother Shock" came out, and when I went to the Bay Area for part of my book tour, I met with her and her "Writing About Motherhood" group. They had put together a collection of the essays, poetry, and fiction that had come about through their writing sessions and discussion groups, and they were looking for a way to share that work.

I read the collection and even talked to my publisher to see if there was interest, but they felt the scope was too local – that it would need to be about more than a single group of women whose lives were changed by writing about motherhood. So Amy and I brainstormed, and LiteraryMama was the result.

I still remember the email Amy sent to the group, suggesting a literary magazine that would feature serious writing about motherhood. Eventually, Amy theorized, we would have enough content on the site to merit an anthology. Within a month or two, by November 2003, we had a site, and, thanks to the interest of the original Writing About Motherhood group, we had a roster of editors. Within a year, we'd been named one of Forbes.com's "Best of the Web" picks. In January of 2005, I pitched Seal the idea of a Literary Mama anthology, and a year later, our first anthology was out.

Kris: What distinguishes LiteraryMama.com online?

Andrea: For one thing, it was the first literary magazine devoted solely to writing by women who are mothers.

Kris: The site provides amazing content at no charge to readers. Does it receive any financial support?

Andrea: No. We hope to rectify that, so that we can compensate the writers we publish and the editors who volunteer their time for the site.

Kris: How did you decide who you would ask for contributions?

Andrea: For the anthology, Amy and I asked the editors of each department to pick their favorite pieces and submit them to us in a "best of" list. We then went through those lists and weighed in with our own favorites. Then we worked with our editor at Seal to winnow it down to a tight collection of the writing that was the most representative of LiteraryMama.

Kris: This anthology covers many facets of motherhood. What topics do you wish you could have included?

Andrea: You know, I'm pretty happy with the range of perspective we were able to put together from the quality work published on the site. I think it might have been interesting to include essays on being a birthmother, or secondary infertility, or more issues of adoption; hopefully we'll receive more submissions on these kinds of topics.

Kris: Do you have a favorite in the collection? Why is it special to you?

Andrea: I like all of the work in the book, but if I had to pick just one, I'd say Nebraska, by Holly Day. Or Eyes in the Back of Her Head, by Gayle Brandeis. (Can I pick two?) Both of these are spare, precise, compact and elegant, and they speak to the unknowability of the mother, to that space where we are both daughters and mothers, all at once.

Kris: If you were to put a sequel together, what would you want to accomplish with it?

Andrea: To continue making a space for writing about motherhood as a serious literary pursuit; to feature even more emerging and established writers on an intense subject; and to explore areas not covered fully in the first collection.

Kris: What a year for you! This is the second of three anthologies you've edited, (It's a Boy: Women Writers on Raising Sons, 2005; It's a Girl: Women Writers on Raising Daughters, 2006), plus you're writing appears in three other collections (Your Children Will Raise You [Trumpeter, 2005], The Imperfect Mom [Broadway, 2006] and About What Was Lost: 20 Writers on Miscarriage [Plume, 2006]). Has the publication of Literary Mama had special meaning for you?

Andrea: Absolutely. It's been wonderful witnessing LiteraryMama morph from a germ of an idea to the reality of a website to the smooth-finished cover of a paperback book. LiteraryMama is good work, and I'm honored to be a part of it.

Kris: What three pieces of advice would you give a first-time mother-to-be?

Andrea:

• This too shall pass.

• You are not alone.

• Breathe.

Kris: The media often tell women to shoot for balance in their lives. As a mom with young children at home, do you think maintaining a balanced life is achievable or even necessary? Or do you find ways to thrive within the imbalance?

Andrea: Balance as outlined in the mainstream media isn't exactly balance – perfect whites, headlight-bright smiles, sporty clothes, a great figure, square meals, pilates and pedicures, and adorable, overachieving kids. It's a kind of crazy-making perfection that very few real-life women can achieve (and not without a staff to help her). My work is to try to make peace with imbalance, embrace the reality of my life the way it is, and respond to what's really there rather than berating myself for it not being somehow different.

Kris: What advice can you offer to moms struggling to find the time and energy to pursue their creative passions?

Andrea: It's really hard. You have to respect how difficult it is, and take it seriously. And then, as they say, just do it.

Kris is a thirtysomething stay-at-home mom who lives north of Boston with her family.

In the News: The First TV Channel for Babies

You knew it would happen eventually, right? DirectTV has launched BabyFirstTV, the nation’s first channel geared 24/7 to children under age three. According to its Web site, the station will offer 15-minute segments and aims to become a “a reliable and trusted source of information for parents on topics related to the early stages of parenting.”

I let my 10-month-old, Ava, watch Baby Mozart three or four times a week. By doing so, I could be jeopardizing her brain development, according to the American Academy of Pediatrics. It recommends that children under age two watch no television, pending further research on its effects.

In reality, though, 68 percent of kids under two do watch TV or videos most days, a 2003 Kaiser Family Foundation study found. “According to their parents," the report says, "43 percent of all children under age two watch TV every day, and 26 percent have a TV in their bedroom.”

My daughter, I know, gets plenty of "real world" interaction and stimulation every day. Will 20 minutes a day or less of baby-centered programming do her harm? I doubt it. Some research has shown that age-appropriate, curriculum-based educational shows won't hurt -- and may even help -- young children develop language. Still, it is hard not to worry about babies who spend hours watching TV every day.

I don't plan to subscribe, but for a few weeks Ava and I will have more variety. BabyFirstTV will be free until May 31st, according to its Web site. After that, it will cost $9.99 per month.

What do you think about BabyFirstTV? Did you let your kids watch any TV before age two?

Kris is a thirtysomething stay-at-home mom who lives north of Boston with her family.

In the news: Is daily phys ed coming to your child's school?

Did you know that kids need at least an hour of exercise every day, according to the Centers for Disease Control (CDC)? It’s a constant worry of mine. Half the time when I take my boys, ages six and four, to the park, Ben hops on the swing and John plops down in the sand box. Sure, they run around and ride their bikes, but not always for an hour. Bad weather makes this benchmark even harder to reach.

That’s why a recent news story about an elementary school in Tennessee caught my eye. In response to the well-publicized high rates of obesity in American kids, the school now requires students to take phys ed every day. “It really gets my brain going,” says fourth grader Michael Turri in the article. “You need this stuff to get through life.”

Citing the success at Moore Elementary, where students “are a little less overweight, and their academic scares are high,” some state lawmakers want to make daily phys ed mandatory throughout the state.

In fact, the CDC urges schools to require daily phys ed, in addition to recess. However, according to the article, Illinois is the only state that does; Alabama mandates it through the eighth grade.

Knowing how much clearer my mind is after a workout, I think daily exercise at school is an excellent idea. With all the benefits researchers now link to physical activity (see 10 Perks for Teens Who Exercise), the payoff could be huge in terms of improved academic performance, lowered rates of drug abuse, and the overall well-being of our next generation.

"[Moore Elementary is] consistently at the top of the state in standardized testing," says Doug Winborn, professor of health and human performance at Middle Tennessee University. "We hoped other school systems would see the light and follow suit, but it appears the only way to have a daily physical education is to mandate it."

Do your kids have daily phys ed at school? How do you help them get enough exercise?

Kris is a thirtysomething stay-at-home mom who lives north of Boston with her family.

There goes my baby

by Kris

My 10-month-old has leapt out of the nest, all fuzzy head and uncoordinated limbs. She wiggles her butt down the hallway. She hangs on the kitchen stool, tipping it over on herself. She climbs onto the stair in the family room, and now she’s tipping. I race across the room and catch her in my arms.

Scurrying across the floor, she glances back at me over her shoulder. I watch, seeing the scene for what it is: my baby crossing the one-way bridge to toddlerhood. Just a few weeks ago, she didn’t even notice me singing "This Little Piggy." Now, she watches as I grasp each toe, giggling in advance of the big-tickle finish. She waves bye-bye. She says, "Dada." She screams during diaper changes. Soon, she’ll throw tantrums, run through the grass, ask a billion questions, say she hates me. Already my hip’s lost its place as her favorite seat in the house.

Meanwhile choking hazards populate every corner, appearing out of nowhere. I attach Swiffer Dusters to my feet. I put the vacuum away only to find her holding a piece of popcorn. I find her in the dishwasher, up the stairs, under the coffee table, elbow-deep in the VCR.

Pregnancies don’t get easier with experience, why should this?

Putting on her pink fleece jammies, I see it. The three plump rolls on her thighs have been replaced by two small ones. Are they even rolls? Or is it just a simple crease in her skin?

I give myself a pep talk. Don’t be the mom who mourns every stage. How sad it would be if she couldn’t crawl or stand. Celebrate the milestones!

Still, I imagine ways to fatten her back up: butter on toast, avocado for lunch, egg yolk in her porridge.

But I know, I can’t make it stop. My baby is growing up before my eyes. As her mom, all I can do is help her along. And feed her bacon.

Kris is a thirtysomething stay-at-home mom who lives north of Boston with her family.

In the news: You want lies with that?

By Kris

McDonald's found itself in the fryer recently after two disclosures about its famous French fries. In early February, the company announced that its fries contain one-third more trans fats than thought. But the stunner came five days later with the news that they also contain dairy and gluten, a wheat product. McDonald's previously claimed its fries were dairy and gluten free.

The news has alarmed many people with food allergies or sensitivities such celiac disease. Not surprisingly, a series of lawsuits related to the "new" ingredients have popped up across the country.

This blow to the fast-food giant's credibility comes just as it readies to launch voluntary nutrition labeling on its products, the first in the industry to do so. The company says it found the added trans fats after adopting new testing methods. It now has researchers at the University of Nebraska testing the gluten levels of the fries.

McDonald's has said that it plans to lower the trans fat in its fries, in response to government-issued dietary guidelines advising Americans to eat as little trans fats as possible. Researchers have linked trans fats to coronary heart disease, the No. 1 cause of death in the United States.

Personally, I will admit to having a 30-pound stash of Happy Meal toys in the closet, something those who knew me "before kids" would be shocked to learn. With all the saturated fat and sugar, not to mention the possibility of carcinogens, I knew it wasn't a healthy choice. But now, I can't help wondering what other mystery ingredients lurk in fast food. What else doesn't the industry have to report?

How much faith do you have that corporations like McDonald's have your children's good health in mind? Do revelations like this one influence where (and how often) you take your kids to eat? If you choose not to buy fast food, how do you cope when it seems the only path to dinner is past the local drive-thru window?

Kris is a thirtysomething stay-at-home mom who lives north of Boston with her family.

Preschool switcheroo

By Kris

After Christmas, we took John out of the preschool program he loved to put him in one much closer to our house and at the same school as his older brother. Through talking with John (i.e., talking him down from several apocalyptic tantrums) and visiting the classroom, we realized the program wouldn't work for us. In fact, we wonder how the program works for anyone, being so long on rules and terse reprimands and short on fun and letting 3-year-olds be, well, 3-year-olds.

More than once, John came out of school crying and without mittens or a hat because his teachers wouldn't let him put them on before his coat, which his OCD-like preschooler-ness requires of him. More than once he talked of time-outs and couldn't think of anything he liked best about his day.

A few weeks after entering the new school, when the reality of it hit him, we had the following exchange:

John: "I'll never go to the red room again? Is that what's happening?"

Me: "Dad and I made the decision to switch you to Ben's school. You can't go back to the red room."

John: "You made a bad decision! I want to go back to the red room! Can I? Won't you let me? Don't decide that. You made a bad decision."

Sadly, the "red room" had filled his spot and could not take him back. Now, fearing he'd developed some masochistic attachment to his new school, I struggled to find the words to explain that he wouldn't be going back. It came out like this:

Me: "No, honey, we can't put Spiderman tattoos on your cheeks because we're going to look at some new schools tomorrow."

Ben: "Why?"

Me: "Well, Dad and I decided that John's new school isn’t fun enough, so we’ll find a new one."

John: (Muttering, punctuating his words with arm gestures) No, it wasn't fun enough. It was stupid enough.

Me: "We'll visit three schools over the next three days, then we’ll make a decision."

John: "Nooo. I'll make a decision."

Fair enough, son. Fair enough.

Kris is a thirtysomething stay-at-home mom who lives north of Boston with her family.

Preschooler wins gold, scores perfect 10 in extreme tantrum event

By Kris

Parents of tantrum throwers should unite to share war stories:

• “He cried for 6 hours straight!”
• “She screamed so loud my glasses cracked!”
• “He turned blue and passed out!”

John always had tantrums but now has extreme tantrums: vein-popping hollers, streaming tears, kicking and punching, lose-lose setups.

• “I don’t want this much juice!”
• “I’m not taking off my coat, I don’t like the shirt underneath it!”
• And a new one: “I can’t eat this grilled cheese, someone took a bite out of it!” Of course, he took a bite out of it, but I’m just a big liar when I remind him of that.

Things that spark extreme tantrums include having juice/not having juice, staying home/going to school, getting dressed/getting undressed, getting into the tub/getting out of the tub. Pretty much anything that involves being alive and on planet Earth.

He has his reasons:

• The new baby’s so cute and never does anything wrong.
• Mom’s always doing laundry or dishes, cooing at the baby or staring at her computer.
• He entered a new school after Christmas and now has to go four mornings instead of two.

He's crying out for attention, at least in part, and I’m all over that. But right now, nothing pleases this kid.

We had two awful incidents last week. First, I had to bathe John when Brian was working late. I had a fussy baby, a rambunctious 5-year-old and John, who fought so hard you'd think I’d filled the tub with battery acid.

I coaxed him into the bathroom (he had to pee), rhapsodized about the bubbles and bath toys, and managed to undress him without wrestling him to the ground. Then I snatched him up and plopped him into the water.

He settled right in and looked up at me with red, tear-stained cheeks.

“Thanks, Mama.”

What I heard: “Thanks for being my mom, Mom. And for not throttling me."

Then, during Friday’s morning rush, John didn’t want to eat his bagel. I didn’t want to give in. I’m all for choices, but come on, people. We’re talking about bread.

He screamed, he cried. I gave timeouts, I yelled. We hugged and regained our composure. Watching the clock tick toward 8:30, I relented.

“Oatmeal or cold cereal?”

“Grilled cheese.”

“Apple or orange?” He chose an orange, which I peeled, sectioned and presented in about 10 seconds.

“No, don’t PEEL IT! I wanted to stick my FINGER in it!”

Muttering obscenities about sticking fingers in places, I walked out of the room to catch my breath. When I came back, he had pitched the orange segments all over the table. I told him he’d have to stay home from school, and went to my desk to cry for a minute.

Back in the kitchen, Ben ate the rejected orange while John got another and ate about half of it. I declared breakfast over. His class would start in three minutes.

We got on our hats, coats and mittens. I put the baby in her car seat, and we stepped out the front door together. John thrust his rainbow-mittened hand into mine.

“Thanks, Mama,” he said again.

I smiled. How does this child manage to push and pull me, angering and beguiling in equal measure? And, now that he's mastered the tantrum, when will he move on to something else, like soccer?

I stroked his hand a bit as we walked, and thought about that.

How do you handle tantrums? Do you have any "war stories"?

Kris is a thirtysomething stay-at-home mom who lives north of Boston with her family.

Three is enough. I think.

By Kris

At some point in my twenties, I decided I wanted four kids. After we bought a house and started trying, I figured out the schedule in my head:

"If I have my first at 29, another at 31, and my third at 33, I can have a break before having my fourth at 36."

Tight, yes. But doable.

One car accident, a miscarriage and a few delayed conceptions later, here I am at age 36 with three kids. And I think I'm done.

I say that, but show me a photo of your family and without realizing it, I'll count your children and, if you have four, a little pang of jealousy hits me in the gut.

One would think I'd be glad to leave the uncertainties of baby making behind, the fears of miscarriage and birthing complications and SIDS. One might think I'd be glad not to subject my pelvic floor to further abuse (because, really, it's suffered enough).

But my kids bring me so much joy. More kids equals more joy, right?

The hard truth is, I think I've reached my limit. Meeting the needs of three children fills my days, and then some. Many days I miss every mark.

My fantasy life with kids? Cooking whole food, playing board games on a Tuesday afternoon, reading the extra bedtime story more often than not, and someday, maybe, even home schooling. All this while exercising, writing and having fun myself.

My problem is, I need calm. I fear losing my chance to have another baby, but I also fear pushing myself and my family too far by having a fourth. What if I miss out on enjoying them as kids because my life becomes so hectic? What if I become Monster Mom 24/7 rather than 24/3 (on a good week)?

I wonder why I want four. Am I greedy, trying to have the most I can? Is it because I myself was a fourth "oops" baby? Perhaps it's because four kids fit into a minivan, with room for a skinny friend. Or, maybe four children are imprinted on my heart, part of some divine plan.

I've envisioned four children for so long, it feels almost like this other baby already exists, waiting for me to do the work of having him. Deciding not to, when it's within my power to try, is surprisingly hard.

My sister-in-law pointed out that I did have four kids. "One just didn't make it."

My neighbor said to give away the baby stuff. "If you decide to have another, you can get new stuff.:

So, I'm giving things away as Ava outgrows them. I'm getting used to saying, "We're done," with a straight face. I'm working on accepting that I have enough, because I do. And then some.

Are you comfortable with the size of your family? Did you have the number of children you hoped or planned to have?

Kris is a thirtysomething stay-at-home mom who lives north of Boston with her family.

My 12 must-have baby items

By Kris

I'm a researcher at heart, and a consumer. So when I had my first baby five years ago, I spent hours online and talking to other moms, looking for the "perfect" blanket or toy -– anything that would make my life easier.

Three babies later, I know "perfect" in this sense is subjective, varying widely among parents and babies alike. Still, I have my personal favorites. Here are the 12 items that brought peace to my "life with baby," time and time again.

1. Soothie Pacifier. My first baby wouldn't take a pacifier. Oh, wait, I was his pacifier. So you can imagine my delight when my second baby preferred this one to his own mother's teat. It soothes Ava, too. Our hospital uses this pacifier for newborns, and I think they're on to something.
2. Light dimmer switch. Any nursery light needs a dimmer switch. Sure, it makes for comfortable eyes. But more important, it solves the "bright-lights-leading-to-wide-awake-baby" dilemma. This one attaches to a regular lamp, and it still works after five years of constant use.
3. "The Baby Book" by William Sears, M.D., and Martha Sears, R.N. This book gives nuts and bolts information on all things baby: feeding, sleeping, positioning in a sling, evaluating medical problems, toys and games for each stage. Chock full of helpful illustrations and charts, it helped me realize my two-week-old had acid reflux. Without this book, I believe his diagnosis would have taken much longer.
4. "The Happiest Baby on the Block" DVD by Harvey Karp, M.D. I bought this DVD after reading the hardcover edition, and I would again. Why? First, it teaches how to swaddle. The book has detailed illustrations, but I didn't master the technique until I watched it. The DVD also has three tracks of "calming sounds" that worked so well with Ava that our jaws dropped. White noise on the radio has a similar, if less reliable, effect.
5. The Miracle Blanket. Ava loved being swaddled but kept getting loose. I feared a loose blanket would suffocate her. The long list of endorsements sold me on giving this swaddling blanket a try, and it exceeded my hopes. Ava could move her arms a bit but couldn't get free, or I could leave her arms out. I could leave her legs out to keep her cool, put her in a swing or allow more movement. Made of lightweight cotton, it didn't stifle her and it washed well, too.
6. "Sleep Baby Sleep" by Nicolette Larson. I ordered this CD on a whim, and I think it's the best lullaby CD ever. Larson wrote much of it while tending to her ailing newborn in the hospital. She wanted every note to soothe and caress, and she accomplished her goal.
7. Sling carrier. This is a highly individualized item, and there are billions to choose from. But after logging cumulative months with babies hanging off my body, I can say that, for me, the Over-the-Shoulder Baby Holder adjustable sling and the Kangaroo Fleece Pouch give the most comfort, quality, versatility and ease-of-use.
8. Baby Einstein's Baby Mozart. Baby videos have proliferated on the market since this classic first appeared. But this is still the only video my babies would watch from beginning to end, without fail.
9. The Nubby Teether by The First Years. Out of our 30-odd teethers, my boys loved this one best. Unfortunately, I can't find one for Ava, so we rely on our second favorite, the Ansa Easy-to Hold Teether Rattle. I like these two because babies can hold and manipulate them with ease, unlike others that lead to frustration within minutes. While not as soft or gratifying on the gums, a plastic baby ring, or link, works well, too.
10. Big Knotties: Marley the Lion. I hesitated to list this because Lamaze has retired "Mr. Marley," as we call him. But he made my babies smile at photo shoots, every time. And he's got crinkly, chewy dreadlocks. And bells in his toes! I say, bring back Marley the Lion!
11. Whoozit Activity Spiral. The spiral wraps around just about anything, and the attached toys delight little fingers and mouths with their rattles, ribbons and knots. It has saved us on numerous long car trips and shopping excursions gone awry.
12. Dance Baby Dance Classical Stacker by Fisher Price. This elevates the basic stacker with lights that flash to five classical and children's songs. We are on our third one, which says as much about its durability as it does about our need to own a working one. Bottom line: It rivets their attention long enough to change a diaper or make a bathroom run yourself. Plus, unlike most musical toys, it doesn't make me want to scratch my eyes out.

What are your favorite finds for babies?

Kris is a thirtysomething stay-at-home mom who lives north of Boston with her family.

Note: DotMoms does not currently accept advertising. All opinions expressed here are solely the author's.