Where Do I Sign Up?

My new favorite show on TV (as of yesterday) is The Baby Borrowers. I like the premise of it: giving teens a real taste of what it is to be a parent by letting them take care of someone else's baby (under video supervision of the parent and in the physical presence of a licensed nanny. The parents are allowed to step in for a minute or two here-and-there to give advice, and the nanny is only allowed to interfere in an actual emergency). Some of it is far from reality, for instance the girls got to "experience" being pregnant by wearing a preggy belly around. But the belly itself isn't half of the experience. What about the swollen limbs and face, the heartburn, the fatigue, the crazy hormones (a couple girls actually exhibited symptoms of the hormonal mood swings, but I think it was more Pampered Teenager and less Hormonal Wreck), getting kicked from the inside (sometimes really hard) and oh, so many other things that go with being pregnant? What about all that?

I remember some kids at my school had to carry around a sack of sugar for a week, to simulate what it would be like to have a baby while still in high school. They had to take it everywhere they went, because theoretically a high school-er wouldn't be able to afford a babysitter, and their parents would be at work or otherwise unavailable. Most of the kids treated it pretty lightly, because, in reality, it was just a sack of sugar.

This Baby Borrower thing, though. It intrigues me so much. As I watched the opening interviews with the teens, I had to chuckle at how easy they thought having a kid would be. Honestly, I didn't think it would be as hard as it is either, but I knew there would be more to it than just loving your kid (more on this in a bit). There would be all the stuff you have to do to take care of a kid, then add to that keeping up a household; rent, food, health insurance, clothing, diapers. It all ads up. Another unrealistic thing about the show; NBC is providing lodging for these teens as well as setting them up with a job, so they don't really have to deal with all that.

I'm really amazed at the responses on NBC's website. So many people are saying this show is awful and abusive to the babies and the separation from their parents is going to cause long term mental issues. Really? So parents are never allowed to be separated from their kids? Three days away from Mom and Dad for a 6 month old baby is going to ruin the rest of her life? No more vacations for me, I guess. I hope it's not too late... Maybe the damage has already been done, and my kids are taking it out on me by smearing poop on the walls at nap time. Sheesh.

Anyway, I won't go into that part of it anymore because I think it's bullpucky* and I'd rather focus more on why I think this show is great. Someone on one of the blogs mentioned the lack of bonding and love the teens have for the babies (they're only with the baby for three days before they move on to toddlers). I think this is not such a bad thing for this show. These teens, like most people, predict that they'll have a bond with their kids, which they probably will, and in reality that bond is what makes being a parent worth it. On the show, however, the teens see only the hard work side--the side they probably underestimated before--and hopefully it will help them realize they need to have a few things in order (like a good job, and a solid relationship; most of the couples are on pretty rocky ground and think having a baby will "fix" things between them) before they go bringing a life into this world that they aren't ready to take care of.

I would totally let my kids go on the show (well, Drew and Owen anyway; I'm a little more protective of Samantha--that's probably what will cause her mental issues: not that I was gone but that I was around too much). It's all in the name of science, right? If it'll give some teens a chance to re-examine their priorities...

And I'll be honest. I could use a break.

*Thank you Jack Black; now that I know I'm not the only person who uses that word I'm no longer afraid to use it publicly.

Bedtime Schmedtime

I haven't been running lately. My running partner was on vacation last week and apparently I don't have enough motivation to go by myself.

Since I haven't been getting up at 7 a.m. this week*, I've been staying up a couple hours later. The night before last I stayed up til 2 a.m. reading. Then I watched a little TV. I've been fascinated by the medical mystery shows on Discovery Channel lately. There was a lady who had a 200 lb tumor. This lady normally weighed about 120 pounds. It took 18 hours of surgery to remove it. It was incredible. So of course I had to watch it.

I woke up at 9:30 yesterday morning, which is too early when you stay up til 2:30. Normally I do great with 7 hours of sleep, but it requires going to bed before midnight. All day long I was dragging and tired and couldn't get myself to do more than fold some laundry. Didn't put it away.

Then, when bedtime rolled around, I got a sudden burst of energy. "I should clean the kitchen. And the bathroom. And mop the floor," I thought. So I did it. It took almost three hours, so once again I got to bed after 2 a.m. Turns out bedtime is a great time to clean. It's nice and cool, and there are no little interruptions like, "Mom! I peed on the floor!" or "I'm feeding Vito!" (This involves getting a cup of dog food out of the cupboard, dumping half of it on floor on the way over, then dumping it into his dish. But usually they miss the food dish and it ends up in the water dish.)

It was really nice to get everything done with no interruptions, and even though 9:30 came way too early this morning, it was really really nice to wake up to a clean kitchen!

*I actually have been waking up at 7 every morning, just because I've gotten used to it, but I usually think, "Unnnnnggggg. No runnnnnn," and go right back to sleep.

Weekend

We've had a good weekend. Friday we drove down south to attend a friend's wedding luncheon and ring ceremony. He's the friend who introduced me to David (his name is also David. His bride's name is Marcy). I was thrilled when we got his announcement in the mail because he's dated a lot of crazy girls and has wanted to get married for a long time and he finally found that special someone who treats him well and isn't weird. She's in fact very nice and really pretty, and all-around sweet. Drew and Owen were of course excited for the trip, even though they had no clue who David and Marcy were. At random intervals of the trip Drew would exclaim, "I'm so excited to see Marvid and Carcy!" Close enough.

The ring ceremony was something new to me, that I thought was cute and sweet. Dave and Marcy were married in the Mount Timpanogos LDS temple, and a lot of their relatives weren't able to attend. So before the luncheon, they had a guy give a little talk about marriage, then they each read the inscriptions on their rings. They had gotten each others' rings inscribed in Hungarian, which Dave was able to translate (he served a mission in Hungary). Dave had inscribed on Marcy's band something like, "I'll love you forever," and she had inscribed on his, "Love you lots, Stallion!" They exchanged rings and kissed, then we all went inside the reception hall to eat.

Drew and Owen's favorite part of the trip was when we went to Cousin Heidi's house. They got to get out of the car and run around for a few hours and play with all the second cousins. They're still talking about riding the tractor on the driveway (a Little Tikes tractor), and playing in the dirt (the sandbox). It would have been even more fun (for me anyway) if Owen hadn't decided to change his own poopy diaper on the living room floor. It got in his hair, but luckily not on the carpet. And I think everyone (except him) wishes he hadn't dumped sand in the bubble jug and then dumped the bubbles all over the lawn. *sigh.* Next time we visit we'll bring you some bubbles, Heidi!

Samantha had a good time, too. She got to play with little Katie, who is really close in age, for a few minutes. They smiled at each other and swapped pacifiers and poked each other in the eyes. It was cute to watch.

I wish we'd had more time at Heidi's. We decided to drive back to Pocatello that night (only a three hour drive), thinking we'd go camping somewhere on Saturday. But when Saturday rolled around we were so tired. We slept in, which was a mistake because it gave Drew and Owen all kinds of time to totally thrash their room. We were greeted with Balmex and Coppertone all over the place. It smelled like a rash at the beach. It created tons of laundry to do and lots of furniture walls and other general stuff to de-grease. While I was in what's-up-with-these-messes-they're-driving-me-crazy mode, I got my kitchen and living room cleaned. Tomorrow I'll have to clean the main-floor bathroom, which the boys have also been thrashing. Why are they such Destructos? Will they ever grow out of it? A faint hope that they will is all that keeps me going sometimes.

This is somewhat off the subject, but something that I think about often, especially while I'm cleaning up the likes of yesterday's mess. I feel like I'm really hard on my kids sometimes. I'm super stern, and I scold them and yell at them when they're misbehaving. I sometimes even swat their behinds when they tell me "No" after I ask them to do something.

Various relatives say things like, "They're not really misbehaving, they're just exploring" (makes me wonder if the people saying this forgot that they ever had kids). And I can see that in certain cases, like the first time Drew plucked a leaf off my friend's houseplant, for example. He just wanted to see what it was and that was fine, but then I told him, "Drew, we don't pick leaves off of plants. We leave them on so the plant can grow and so we can enjoy it." I dragged him away, but soon he walked back over and plucked another leaf. Probably my explanation was too long and wordy and didn't register in his brain. So I said, "Drew. No. No more leaves off that plant." And once again pulled him away. The next time he looked at me and as I glared at him, saying, "Don't do it..." he smirked his little rebel smirk and plucked another leaf. This is when I swat his behind and sit him in the corner (if we'd been at my house, I'd put him in his room) because that is what I consider misbehavior, rebellion, obstinacy, whatever. He knows what I expect and he does the opposite.

I guess the inner dilemma I face every day is, should I be letting things slide more often? I get tired of saying "no" all the time. I've tried other tactics like distraction, telling them what they actually can do, time out, yelling, sending them to their room, all kinds of stuff. It feels like we're getting nowhere and I sometimes feel like maybe they just don't understand. But then I think, by the time they do understand, maybe it will be too late to train them and discipline them, so I should just keep going on this track and hope the lessons eventually sink in.

I don't really have any conclusions to draw from all of this. I just mull this stuff over in my mind so many times a day (like, every time a kid goes to his room for throwing a toy, biting a sibling, putting a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in a cup of water and dumping said cup on the floor, et al). Here's my inspiration for the day: "...never be weary of good works, but [be] meek and lowly in heart; for such shall find rest to their souls" (Alma 37:34).

A Few Things...

Results are in! I now have proof that I ran the Teton Dam 5K. I got 73rd place out of everyone, guys and gals, and 41 out of just the ladies. There were 100+ ladies, and about 175 people total. Are 5Ks not considered manly anymore? Actually, in every event there were a lot more ladies than men. I don't know what that says about anything, it's just an observation.

Second item of business:

Happy Birthday to my favorite Mike-brother! 30 years old today!

Here Mike and I are just chillin' circa 1982.

Here Mike and his beautiful little girl, Rowan, are just chillin' circa a couple months ago.

Also, Happy Birthday to my favorite Naomi-niece. 5 years old!

I was on my mission when Naomi was born and I got an email with her pictures in it. It was one of the best days ever. I showed her to all my friends who all agreed she was the prettiest baby they'd ever seen! And she's even prettier now!

Nine Months Old!

Yesterday was the nine month mark for Samantha. We went to her check up and learned that she is healthy and doing well (I guess I already knew that), even though she's small for her age. Our pediatrician doesn't make a big deal out of it, though, as long as her growth is on a steady uphill curve. She weighs 16.5 pounds and is 27 inches long. You'd think she weighs more, to look at those cheeks of hers.

She's still not crawling, but she's at least interested in getting around. She tries to crawl and ends up sliding backward. Her poor knees are always red and splotchy now. She does roll really well, and can get where she wants by that method.

She likes to "chat," and tells elaborate stories involving "mum mum mum," "dad dad dad" and "bub bub bub." She also likes to play with her big brothers; I think she'll probably grow up liking cars, planes and trains just like they do.

When I put her down for naps she likes to snuggle with her blanket and suck her thumb; not unlike Linus, but a lot cuter, in my humble Mom-ish opinion. Today she surprised me when I went to get her from her nap. She was sitting up playing with her baby doll and eating her blanket. I've never seen her get into sitting position on her own before.

I think Samantha looks a lot like I did when I was her age. I think it's the mouth and eyes. Okay, it's the cheeks, too. I can't find the picture of myself to prove it; I'll have to see what I can find in my mom's old photo albums...