Fear Factor

"I brought you into this world and I can take you out."

Words that for years, I really believed to be true. 

Whats the problem with kids today? (wow I sound like a 50's television dad)  The truth is... they have no fear. 

My husband and I worked with teenagers at our church for over 4 years.  And there is nothing scarier than a teen who has no fear of their parents.  I remember one teen who would lock herself in her room and runaway for days.  If her parents raised their voices or threatened her in any way she would call the police on them.  This was terrifying and hopeless.

My life was totally different.  You would be hard pressed to find someone more of a goody two shoes than me.  I never talked back to my mother. I have never tried an  illeagal drug.  I knew one thing for sure.  If my mother ever caught me doing any one of those things, I was dead.  I had lots of opportunity.  My mother worked and I was home alone a lot.  The second thing I knew for sure was that my mom had installed camera's all over the house.  She didn't really.  I think.  The truth is I really can't be sure and I'm still a little afraid of her.

I certainly didn't want my son to turn out like that teenager and the thought of that gives me the chills. 

The key is to find the balance between loving and fear.  There are times to be "lovey dovey" mommy and there are times to be "scary" mommy. 

What do I mean by that?  Your kids have to know that you are capable of doing what you said you would.  Concistency is the key.  Don't say something you can't actually do.  So for example if you say,"If you don't pick up these toys off of the floor I will throw them away."  Guess what? you need to throw them away.  Crazy? perhaps?  You don't have to do things like this too many times.  You just have to do it unexpectedly here and there. 

Now lets put things in perspective.  A disclaimer:  I am not a psychologist.  I can't confirm without a shadow of a doubt that I am not a little traumatized from my own childhood.  What I can assert is that my fear kept me from doing things that I am sure I would regret today and I have seen what lack of fear can do.

So every now and then a beloved toy may or may not end up in the garbage.  You can never be too sure.

The Tooth Fairy Doesn't Exists!

“The Tooth Fairy doesn’t exist”, he exclaimed in a tone that was both mocking and shocked all at once. After all he is only five years old and our new toothless friend is already six.

There we were in the cookie isle at Target. We had just met new friends. They could have been potential play-dates. But now I was sure that the mommy wanted to kill me.

I tugged at my son’s arm, opened my eyes wide and smiled. He stared back up at me with a puzzled look on his face as if saying, “What did I do?” I looked over at the Mom and turned my head sideways hoping that the expression of my face was understood. I was so sorry and so embarrassed.

Fortunately her son did not get it. The panic shared by his mother and I went completely over his head and he probably thought that my son was delusional. Now the feeling was mutual.

This interaction was all my fault. I decided long before my son was born that I didn’t want to perpetuate the deception story of Santa Clause. I know! I know! I’m a horrible person. Blah, Blah, Blah. But how could I lie to my son about Santa Clause for years and then expect him to believe that God is real. I just imagined the look of betrayal on his face the day he would find out that I had been lying all of this time. How could he ever trust me again.

I can’t tell you how many people tried to convince me that all kids who believe in Santa Clause turn out all right. They don’t hate their parents and think they are liars. I was raised in Cuba and Santa does not fly over Cuba’s restricted air space.

I kept saying that I guess I would have to reevaluate the decision and cross that bridge when we get to it. Once he was born I figured I had a couple of years more to decide and so I put it off.

Then at 3 years old I was preempted by a concerned mother in law and my son came home from grandma’s house with his first ever letter for Santa.

The deception had begun. It was too late to turn back now. I just couldn’t be the one to tell him the truth now. I have gone along with this now for three years. One of the main reasons that I go along is the fear of an exchange like the one that took place at Target. I have nieces and nephews to worry about and I can’t have my son be “that kid”. The kid that bursts everyone’s bubble. I don’t want preschool mommies calling me each week complaining that my son made their child cry. So we make a list, put out the cookies and we hide the toys.

It still upsets me to think that an imaginary jolly man with a white beard and red suit takes all the credit for the sacrifices mommy and daddy make to buy the toys that bring joy to our little boy’s life. But in the meantime, I can always make him behave by threatening him with the lump of coal and that works like a charm.

But mommies everywhere are warned. The Tooth Fairy and Easter Bunny are still fair game.

Cafe con Leche

What do you get when you let a two year old try Cafe con Leche?

A Coffee addicted 5 year old.

We're not really a coffee drinking family.  Cafe con Leche is an occasional treat but a tradition none the less. 

Cuban kids and I suspect quite a few other Hispanic children drink coffee and milk from their baby bottle.  Many Hispanic parents don't see anything wrong with this at all.  They are in fact drinking milk.  "Growing kids need their calcium".

It was not my plan to follow through with this tradition.  I figured when the subject came up I would pretend that chocolate milk was coffee.  It has worked well for one of my best friends.  They are a heavy coffee drinking family but the kids are none the wiser as they sip on their hot chocolate.

Then there was that fateful Saturday morning trip to Grandma's.  I only discovered what had happened from a picture.  A picture of a sweet two year old grinning from ear to ear with bread crumbs on his cheeks and few droplets of Cafe con Leche on his shirt.

The chasm had been crossed.  The point of no return. 

I typically pass for "gringa".  But the way you know I'm Cuban for sure is to put a nice hot cup of Cafe con Leche in front of me and a half a loaf of heavily buttered flat toasted cuban bread "tostada" and see them both quickly disappear.

So it became a Saturday ritual.  The visit to Grandma and the Cafe con Leche.  I wouldn't actually let him drink the Cafe con Leche.  He would only dip his bread, but I would have to rip the coffee cup out of his tiny little hands as he hung on for dear life with mouth open hoping to catch just a drop more. 

He could smell the coffee a mile away.  It was hard for mom and dad to sneak in a cup without him knowing.  "What are you drinking?"  "Nothing Buddy"  I smell coffee.

Little by little it was every other Saturday and then just once a month.  Now it's just once in a while.

With ash brown hair and blue eyes, I guess you could say he could pass for "gringo", but place a steaming cup of Cafe con Leche and Tostada in front of the boy and watch it disappear.

The Cuban in him comes out just like his mommy.  He is 3/4ths Cuban after all and tomorrow is Saturday.

Naptime Sabotage

Most mom's relish those 45 minutes to 2 hours (if your lucky) that their little angel closes his little eyes and fades away to dreamland.  Some Mom's worship this time.  Their entire days revolve around this daily ritual.

I too hoped and prayed for this brief time of rest.  I tried to be consistant, set a restful mood.  I tried forcing him.  Driving around in the car.  I had some successes.  There were times I was lucky and got around 45 minutes. 

But to tell you the truth.  When my son is in my care he never takes a nap.  I will not allow it. 

You see when my son takes a nap something happens.  Someone else steps into his little body while he sleeps.  He falls asleep my sweet little boy and wakes up another thing altogether.  I don't recognize him at all.  It's a classic Jekel and Hide.

As he rouses himself from slumber I would say a quicky prayer that maybe he wasn't possesed today.  I would slowly open the door and try to make his rising a good and wonderful thing.  I would crawl into bed and gently stroke his hair.  "Hi there sunshine."  But it was no use. 

It starts with tossing and turning.  Whining and crying.  He doesn't want me in the room, he doesnt want me to leave.  He doesn't want to get up and he doesn't want to lay down.  Everything is no and the whining is through the roof.  He doesn't want to go to the park and the simplest word makes him cry. 

This after naptime ritual can last as long as the nap.  Truly not worth the 45 minutes of peace during the nap.  It was more like the calm before the storm.

If he starts to doze off I cough, I talk, I'll sing.  I'll tickle. 

There will be no afternoon shut eye on my watch. 

Knock- Knock

Who’s there?

Boy, do little kids love knock-knock jokes!

My son loves them too.

He’s a great audience because he doesn’t really get the concept yet, so he laughs at anything.  Good thing since I only know two.

Last night he started the Knock- knock jokes while we were riding in the car. He says one and then he makes me say one.

When it was my turn I use my usual repertoire:

Knock-Knock
Who is there?
Banana
Banana who?
Knock- knock
Who’s there?
Banana
Banana who?
Knock- knock
Who’s there?
Orange
Orange who?
Orange you glad I didn’t say Banana?

Then there was a twinkle in his eye and I could tell a little light bulb went off. I think he has finally gotten the concept.

So he says:

Knock- knock
Who’s there?
Shriever
Shriever who? (I mean really who or what is shriever?)
Knock- knock
Who' there?
Shriever ( I think he might really be getting it.)
Knock- knock
Who’s there?
Watermelon
Watermelon who?
Watermelon if you want me to say Shriever again.

The three of us erupted got a case of the giggles. So our budding comedian just kept repeating the same joke over and over with different fruit each time.

I guess it's back to the drawing board, as we ended the night with quite a nice fruit salad of knock- knock jokes.

A Shot in the Arm

To vaccinate or not to vaccinate... that is the question.

For new parents, it is a huge decision. Do I let someone stick a virus cocktail into my brand new little baby or do I risk him getting a serious illness. This precious little life has been given to me and everything that happens to him is my responsibility.

I tend to lean a little towards being a little bit of a granola-y, tree hugger-y, stay away from toxins type of girl. My initial thought was not to vaccinate, but I always keep an open mind. I read a lot. Dr. Robert Young, author of the PH Miracle believes that vaccinations are highly toxic and ineffective. Some websites that can be helpful on both sides of the issue are http://www.thinktwice.com/ and http://www.cdc.com/.

My opinion is that only parents can really make this decision. It really upsets me that parents are usually pressured into this decision. They are scared into it and they never even think about it for themselves. Whatever you choose, should be what is right for you and you shouldn't be guilted into deciding for or against vaccinating. One of my midwives put it best when she said you are going to be the one that holds your baby in your arms should they be suffering from a vaccine side effect or suffering from meningitis. So I had to really think about this and decided that I would take my chances with these rare diseases and not vaccinate.

At each doctor's visit my doctor would re-visit the subject and suggest that we reconsider. At our 10 month visit we gave in and allowed him to get his Prevnar. We luckily had no side effects. I felt like I had sold out to the fear and really guilty so we didn't get anymore vaccinations.

Now a huge misconception is that your child will not be allowed in school without his vaccinations. This is not true. This is a free country and vaccinations are a consumer product and a pharmaceutical and we cannot be forced to consume it. Schools do require it but you can get a waiver. Some parents know that they don't have to get their kids vaccinated but have not idea how to get this waiver. It took me a few years to get it because I thought it was going to be really difficult. When I finally went to get it, it turned to be the easiest thing I had ever done. You can just call the department of health and ask them for the location nearest you. The wait in the lobby was about half an hour and the process once inside was about 5 minutes.

When my son was 2 years old, he got a laceration on his forehead. We took him to the hospital for stitches. The doctor suggested that we give him the DTAP vaccine in case of tetanus. I was pretty sure he had cut himself on something plastic and not rusty metal. I refused but my husband wasn't so sure. So after a very long discussion we proceeded with the vaccine.

Mother's intuition is a very powerful thing. Two weeks later my son had a rash on his face, when we took him to the doctor, she said the rash didn't worry her but some bruising on his legs and some red dots on his skin were of more concern. A blood test revealed that his platelet count was extremely low and falling. This condition is called ITP. We tested him every other day and his numbers kept doubling down. Our only option was to put him in the hospital over night for an infusion. Luckily right before he was infused we tested him one more time and his numbers had gone up just a bit, but enough that we could choose to take him home and wait and see. This was a roller coaster of emotions for us and I don't wish this on anyone. I kept asking all of the doctors if this could have anything to do with the vaccine and they all said no. So I read the insert for the Dtap which is available online www.immunize.org/packageinserts and there it was on page 33. ITP was a possible side effect. I also learned that vaccinations are contraindicated for people who have ever had an autoimmune disorder and that if your parents have had an autoimmune disorder you are also more susceptible. I just couldn't believe that one one ever asked.

To vaccinate was not right for us, but no one should tell you what you should choose. My hope is that parents will educate themselves every step of the way.

Hit me with your best shot!

As expectant mothers, we all have our ideas of how we will raise our kids. We say to ourselves, that we will never do this or do that or that we will never let them do this or that.

When my son was five months it was time to introduce solid foods. Many told me to give him fruit, but I refused. I didn't want him to develop a sweet tooth and reject healthier foods.

I was doing great. He would eat rice and beans, lentils, fish, tofu, avocado, masaman curry, and mashed green beans with rice. I was so proud of myself. My son had a great palette and would grow up to have sophisticated tastes.

On my son's first birthday he caught a stomach virus and it was bad. Dad and I caught it too. I wanted to die because I was so sick. Once we recovered and started eating again, I decided to listen to everyone who said that I should give Nicholas applesauce and mashed bananas to start off. Big mistake. Sweet tooth here we come. After that day, he rejected everything that wasn't sweet. It took years to slowly add things back into his menu and I found myself feeding my son chicken fingers, french fries and pizza more often than I can admit. Many mom's advised that I refuse him food if he didn't eat what I had made him, but as a working mom, I didn't want a fight for the little bit of time I had him.

A little over a year ago, I remember catering a wedding where the bride, groom and sister all wanted to eat the kid's meal of chicken finger's and fries. I swore no child of mine would end up eating chicken fingers and fries at their wedding.

I had to put my foot down. He wasn't eating anything they served him at school. And then, it came to me, out of know where. It wasn't premeditated but it was Brilliant.

I spoke to his school's director with Nicholas within earshot. I said to her, " Ms. Elba, I really need your help getting Nicholas to eat his food and vegetables. His doctor has told me that if he doesn't eat his food and vegetables, she will have to give him a shot." And then from across the room I heard him sobbing. He ran to me weeping. He was scared to death.

That night at home he reluctantly ate broccoli. The next day he had some of his food at school. Some days, when I picked him up from school he was already crying as I approached the door if that day he didn't taste the vegetable. He would beg me not to take him in for the shot. I would agree to give him one more chance if he ate a new vegetable at home that evening.

Little by little, he tasted asparagus, broccoli, mixed greens, avocado, zucchini, cucumber, tomatoes, red peppers. He ate anything I wanted him to eat or he was getting the dreaded shot.

Now my super eater has vegetables for both lunch and dinner everyday, expects them and asks for them. Did I traumatize him? Perhaps a little, but he will thank me one day.

My mother said that I was traumatizing him and that I shouldn't scare him that way. It seems that she has forgotten the times she would light a match and chase me around the house telling me that she was going to burn my feet if I walked around barefoot. Ring-Ring: Hello Kettle? This is the pot.

Till this day, I can't walk around barefoot and and my feet are super sensitive even when walking at the beach.