Here are a few of the tricks I use, a couple of which you may have heard me talk about in the past:

1. I signed up for a few Subscribe & Save items through Amazon. All shipping is free, plus you save a little extra by signing up for a subscription. You control how often the items show up at your doorstep, and you can cancel anytime. The prices I’ve found, so far, are less with Subscribe & Save than local drugstore prices. You can get everything from laundry detergent to whitening strips to coffee. Really, anything you use fairly often.
2. Save everything you want and/or need in your Amazon cart, as long as you don’t need it immediately. Chances are excellent that the new set of dishes you’ve been eyeballing or all 10 seasons of “Friends” will go down in price eventually, sometimes WAY down in price. The best part? Every time you go to your shopping cart, all the price changes show up automatically so you can scope out the potential savings. I’ve saved a lot of pennies this way. The items stay in your cart for a very long time.
3. List your clothes and/or your kids’ clothes on eBay. Selling kids’ clothes in bundles seems to work particularly well, especially if they’re name brand. Use the money you get to buy new or used clothes, either locally or on eBay. I consider it a fun way to recycle. If I want a new pair of jeans or a new purse, often I’ll see what I can sell first so I can justify the purchase.
4. Buy clothing at the end of the season when it’s dirt cheap. For kids, guesstimate their sizes for the next season. If you’re off, well, you only wasted a few dollars and you can give it to Goodwill or sell it on eBay. Also scope the clearance racks whenever you are at the store because there are often amazing buys hiding on the rack. I almost never buy anything at full price. It pretty much goes against my conscience.

What are some of your money-saving tricks? Please share here!

This judgmental attitude among parents is the main reason I decided to start my blog. There is no one right way to raise kids. Period. Each child is different and has individual needs that his or her parents usually know best. There are, of course, some clearly wrong ways to raise a child, i.e., hurting, mistreating or abusing kids in any way, but in general, I think we need to learn to be a lot more tolerant of each other’s parenting styles.

I am certainly not immune to thinking my methods are the gold standard, much as I hate to admit it. It’s not hard to settle into the comfortable feeling of wisdom that naturally comes with raising a larger-than-average family. It’s not that I think I know it all, by any means, but the fact is that I have had many parenting experiences, thanks to the size of my brood. These said experiences can sometimes lull me into complacency, and even a misguided feeling of superiority.

Here’s my challenge to you, as well as to myself: The next time you feel tempted to deride another parent’s way of dealing with her child, bite your tongue and think about how you would feel if someone criticized your inability to get your baby to sleep through the night, your toddler’s tendency to get into everything in sight or your teen’s insistence on wearing all black. And if you’ve raised your kids already, before you dole out any criticism and scorn, don’t forget that you were not perfect either. Most of us are simply doing our best, and really, isn’t that all our kids can ask for?

Which parenting areas inspire judgment and criticism in you?

Reading an article about difficult mothers in my latest issue of Psychology Today the other day didn’t help this deep-seated fear, let me tell you. Now I’m more paranoid than ever about my mothering abilities. I should probably dub myself the Hypochondriac of Parenting Mistakes.

I think the root of my fear resides mostly in the fact that I spent the better part of a year in a horrible depression. Even though it was something over which I had no control, I feel guilty about it to this day, and probably always will.

It started when I was pregnant with Logan, when it was all I could do to get myself out of bed in the morning, let alone take care of my then-5-year-old twins and 1-year-old son. I was a virtual zombie. I spent many days in my pajamas, not bothering to do anything with my hair or face. People kept telling me how terrible I looked. Out of necessity, my daughters learned how to make a mean peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Once I gave birth, Logan’s newborn neediness and sweet demeanor helped keep me going. He evolved into the easiest, most peaceful baby in the universe and I came out of my shell little by little, with the help of medication, therapy and my kids.

I look back at that period as one of the darkest of my life. It breaks my heart when I think about how fast my girls had to grow up and assume responsibility that they never should have had to because their mother — me — couldn’t function right or well.

Even though in my head I know I was sick and unable to just buck up and be happy, I feel regret and shame. My head knows that the extenuating personal circumstances going on in my life at the time sparked and kindled my struggle with depression, but that isn’t enough to assuage the feelings of failure, no matter how temporary my failure was.

I have days when I think I’m a pretty darn good mom, especially after being around other people’s kids (ever notice how that almost always makes a parent grateful for her own kids?). My own children tell me I’m a great mom, though I imagine the window for that sort of comment is short, considering my daughters are months away from being teenagers.

But I’m painfully aware of my shortcomings, my many flaws and the fact that no matter how hard I try, I will fail them all in one way or another. The best I can do is to try my hardest, let them know that I love them beyond measure and hope that when they grow up, any wounds I left can be healed by their knowledge that I did, indeed, do my best.

Next: How my depression affected Miss Type-A.

When I said in my first post of 2010 that I plan to be more honest and personal in my blogging this year, I wasn’t entirely sure I was going to tackle the topic of my dysfunctional uterus. First of all, I was raised to not discuss any sort of private bodily function, particularly in a public forum. (Sorry, Mom, Grandma, Aunt Judy and any other female relative I might be offending.) Secondly, this whole thing has been so painful to me, both physically and emotionally, that I’ve wanted to bury it deep, never to be discussed or thought about, if at all possible.

But me being me, and, mostly, me being a writer, that’s not going to happen. Unless I can manage to trick my brain into focusing on a book, movie or game instead, until I’m so tired, I fall into bed already half asleep, I think about everything, in excruciating detail. However, I’ve discovered that stuffing negative feelings into tiny recesses of one’s emotional closet rather than dealing with them is not only unhealthy, but can manifest itself in some very ugly ways (more on that another time). I also suspect that some of my readers have been or are going through a similar situation, so I’m hoping for commiseration.

OK, lads, I’ve given you ample time to move on, so now I’m going to expound on why I hate my uterus.

I didn’t start out hating it. My uterus sputtered into working order when I was 12 and beyond a few incidents involving unpleasant cramping, I didn’t suffer from any PMS symptoms to speak of.

Next, it housed my four children, totaling around 27 months of habitation. Everything remained fine and dandy.

And then the stabbing pain and abnormal bleeding started several years ago. I went to see my ob-gyn for an annual check-up and told him of my new woes. He proceeded to knead my uterus both inside and out (at least, that’s what it felt like) as I nearly arched off the examination table in agony.

“A bit tender?” he asked needlessly.

Um, yeah, you could say that.

He gave me a pamphlet explaining my condition. Adenomyosis, he said. Evidently it’s a disease in which the tissue that normally lines the uterus begins growing inside the muscle walls as well, most common after having had children.

For now, he explained, he could put me on birth control pills to hopefully stem the irregular and heavy bleeding, as well as the cramping, but “you’ll probably need to have a hysterectomy eventually,”  he told me. I filed that in my brain for future reference.

Meanwhile, after several months of The Pill, which always leaves me with nasty side effects (I think I’ve been on almost every brand there is), my doctor convinced me to have the Mirena IUD put in place to do the same thing as the pills, only with much less effort or worry. Great! I thought. I can handle 5 years of not having to deal with this stuff.

Alas, less than a year and a half after placement of the IUD, complications began to occur.

Next: My uterus turns against me.

My answer is yes, I do apologize to my kids. I’m sure there are plenty of parents out there who think that it shows weakness to tell their kids they’re sorry, but I believe it’s just the opposite. Parents need to worry less about appearing weak and more about being a good example for their kids. Decent, compassionate human beings apologize when they hurt someone or otherwise wrong them.

If I yell at my kids or lose my temper for no good reason, I apologize. I say, “Look, I’m sorry I yelled at you when I shouldn’t have. I’m feeling really crabby right now and everything is getting on my nerves, but that’s still no excuse to yell,” or something to that effect. In one short lesson I’m teaching them that A. it’s good and necessary to apologize when appropriate; B. even though we all feel irritable sometimes, that doesn’t give us the right to treat anyone with any less respect than they should be treated; and C. I’m human too and I mess up on occasion (well, more than that, but they don’t need to hear a list of all my transgressions).

I do not, however, apologize when I yell at them because they aren’t listening or when I discipline them because they chose to misbehave. Those things are just part of parenting and apologies aren’t necessary. I’m talking about saying I’m sorry because I acted in a way I wouldn’t approve of them acting. It may be easy to think, “Well, I’m the adult, I shouldn’t have to apologize,” but it’s not about us being the authority figures; again, it’s about us being good examples of how a person should behave. When we mess up, it’s our responsibility to teach our kids how to rectify the situation as much as possible.

How about you? Do you apologize to your kids?

Perhaps I’m just supremely naive, but I never would have thought that this sort of playacting would cause such a reaction. These are portions of some of the comments that were left (thanks for letting me borrow these, Jenny):

“If my girls were pretending to nurse, it wouldn’t be so bad. After all, I nursed mine til they were a year. But, I would be offended if I saw my son ‘nursing’ a baby, I would not if he had a bottle (it can always be a bottle of ‘breast milk’). They don’t have the ‘equipment’ and I just don’t think it’s right. I think this kind of raising (in the article) may turn him into a ‘girly man’, and I hate that.”

“Of course a child acts out nursing. Because he saw you do it. He’s testing you to see your response. If you don’t guide them, and teach them, they will grow up as an animal in captivity and will be very sad when they hit the ‘real world’ and probably ill-equipped to cope.”

You know, I just have to say, I don’t see the big deal. Yes, kids act out what they see. Logan pretended to nurse his sisters’ dolls when he was younger (say, 2 or 3). He’s seen his aunts do it and he knows that’s how many babies get their food. So what if he doesn’t have the “right equipment?” To me, it just shows a nurturing, kind, sweet personality. Cody would never even think to pretend this way.

This seems similar to wanting to put on makeup while watching me do mine or wanting to play with dolls. Why would I purposely shame my sons for demonstrating care and compassion or a desire to be like their momma? I know someday Logan is going to make a wonderful father just by watching how carefully he takes care of his babies now (though he doesn’t “nurse” them anymore, as he has long since drawn the conclusion that only females can do that).

Just recently Andie got out one of her old dolls with all its accessories and got it ready to send to her little cousin. Logan found it first though and has since spent a long time taking care of his new-found child, making it meals, bathing it, changing its clothes. (Because evidently he doesn’t have enough babies with the 10 or so he’s already “adopted.”) I know this isn’t typical behavior for a boy, but I don’t care. Logan spontaneously tells me he loves me, hugs me as tightly as his little arms can grasp, is the empathetic, thoughtful, kind soul whose personality I wouldn’t trade for anything. Who am I to damage that part of him?

As for the “girly man” comment — I’d just like to say that we need many more “girly men” around! Men who really understand, respect and relate to women are far too few and I hope my boys grow up to be compassionate, nurturing, affectionate individuals. If that makes them “girly,” then so be it.

What are your thoughts on this? Do you think it’s wrong for boys to pretend to nurse or not a big deal? (Call me crazy, but it just seems like there are much more important things in life to worry about.)

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This year I have another kindergartner and the homework that started to trickle in at the beginning of the year has been gaining speed by the week.

Last week, when I went on my writer’s conference/cruise, the kids went with their dad to visit their grandma in the hospital for a couple days, thereby missing school. I got home to find a huge pile of make-up homework for Logan. We’re still not done with it, a week later!

I’m beyond frustrated. Logan, being a completely different kid than Cody, is a perfectionist when it comes to his work. Everything takes him 5 times as long to do as it took Cody. For instance, he had to color a few animals in a picture. Instead of just scribbling one color like many other 5-year-olds do, he had to painstakingly draw colored stripes in each animal. He wanted it to be “pretty so my teacher will really like it.”

The 1 hour+ picture

Completion time: over an hour. Yes, seriously. I was sitting there watching the whole process, so I know he wasn’t messing around.

Tonight he had to create a “Word Monster.” He chose to use a cereal box for this project, cutting the top into little strips for hair and adding multiple bee stickers, and it took him approximately two hours to complete.

Word Monster

It even has a “backbone, so he can be straight,” explained a proud Logan.

The backbone

Sigh.

This is going to be a long, long year.

What is a parent to do? We all know that if I protest the homework, even silently like I did last year with Cody, I’m going to be viewed as a bad, uninvolved parent. At the same time, I’ve already got way too much on my plate and frankly, I don’t have time (or patience) for this sort of homework.

I said it before and I’ll keep saying it: Beyond reading, I don’t think any kid this young should have homework. He’s already gone every day from 7:30 to nearly 4:30. Having to come home and do homework on top of that, when bed time is at 8:00, doesn’t give him a lot of time for kid stuff. At the rate he works, it barely gives him time to eat and bathe, let alone play.

Yes, I understand teachers have to meet certain requirements with their students, I really do. In this situation, though, I think it’s the teacher (who I like very much, incidentally — she does a great job) more than test scores. Case in point: My first grader does not have anywhere close to the amount of homework that my kindergartner does and this was particularly noticeable when the kids missed school.

I’m curious what others have done or would do in this situation. I adore feedback and comments, so please share!

In fact, I love comments so much, I’m going to send a little something to the author of my favorite comment for the month of November, so post to your heart’s content.

Have you dealt with the homework dilemma? What are your thoughts on homework in kindergarten?

More importantly, why do we constantly beat ourselves up for not being able to do it all? I know there are countless times a week when I mentally berate myself for not getting X, Y and Z done. Am I alone here or is this pretty typical?

It seems like guilt is just second nature for many of us, particularly females. For me personally though, I think guilt is, sadly, one of my closest companions. Am I taking on more than I can handle? Trying to do so many things that none of them gets done very well?

Probably.

So what, if anything, can I do about this? Cut some stuff out? Start saying “no” more often? Set alarms for myself?

I haven’t figured out the solution yet.

In the meantime, I would love to find just one woman who is happy with the way she balances her life and feels relatively no guilt or regret and learn her secret. Does such a person exist? Everyone I know is over-taxed, over-scheduled, over-worked and on their way to a slow burnout.

Juggling work, family, friends, leisure time and other commitments is exhausting. I realize it’s just part of life, but there’s got to be an easier way to balance everything. My life feels very out of balance right now.

I am responsible for four school-age children during the week, making sure that everyone gets on the bus in the morning, has their homework done, takes a shower, eats good food, gets to bed at a decent time, possesses clean clothing, gets delivered and picked up from their activities and receives some semblance of personal attention in the few hours we have between school and bed time. I’m also trying to grow a business during an extremely slow economic time, which sucks up most of my extra hours with all the marketing, writing and researching.

Along with that, I do book keeping for the family business, advertising and proofreading for a scholarly journal, blog most week days, and try to maintain a humongous old farm house with 5 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms, as well as a several-acre yard. Between those things, my church activities, a bit of down time here and a couple tax-return activities, including an audit, I’m having a hard time pulling it all off. It seems like I’m working almost all the time, if I’m not making meals for the kids, helping them with their homework, going to volleyball games or running errands. Even on weekends, when the kids are often at their dad’s house, I am crazy-busy.

I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences on this as I’m sure the guilt-ridden juggling act is standard for many of us. How do you cope? Do you have any special tools (Merry Maids, a planner, a weekly baby-sitter)? When you feel your life becoming unbalanced, how do you take inventory and decide what has to go?

Discuss!

Along with the crimson vision-inspiring claims were a couple laughable ones. The author claims that part of the reason why women become bumpaholics is because they relish the attention they get while pregnant.

Come on. Seriously? Anyone who needs that kind of attention badly enough to procreate in order to get it needs some therapy. Not to mention that I and every mom of 3 or more kids that I know would prefer to not get any attention at all. I hated being noticed when I was feeling like a beached whale. I just wanted to hide, not have every smiling stranger come over and pat my belly or people move way out of my way in their effort to give me room.

Also, the amount of negative attention you attract when you’re already carting around 2 or 3 kids and visibly expecting another is much more than I ever dreamed. When I was pregnant with Logan, my fourth and last, I can’t tell you how many rude, insensitive comments I got. Things like, “You do know by now what causes that, don’t you?” Even my own mother said that I looked like a walking advertisement for why people should use birth control (though, admittedly, I laughed when she said it).

Another line from the article that I thought was absolutely ridiculous was this one, also playing into the attention argument: “Spouses and partners dote on you, gladly delivering soup at 10 a. m. or antacids at 11 p. m.” Oh, please! I’m sure there are partners who do that sort of thing, but I would bet that the majority don’t. Even so,it still would not make up for how uncomfortable and painful pregnancy and childbirth are. Certainly no woman in her right mind would become pregnant just for that.

To turn having a large family into another mainstream addiction is appalling, unfair and ridiculous. It seemed to me that the author twisted all her source’s words to fit her own motive. Even the experts she quoted were clearly talking about the few women who do have a problem with procreating to fill some need/void, not any woman with more than 2 kids.

Bumpaholics, indeed. We’re not all Octo-Mom, for pete’s sake.

What do you think of this recently coined term for moms of larger families, “bumpaholics?” Is this theory ridiculous in your opinion? Entirely plausible? Just another ploy by the media to gain readers? Share your thoughts!

Having said that, I have to now slam the detention policy that is evidently standard in my kids’ middle school because it’s really making me mad.

First of all, in case you weren’t aware, our school is basically a hub for some seven (I’m estimating) communities in the area. Most of the kids ride the bus for very long periods of time to get there, so this is not your local public school down the street. From my house, it’s about 18 miles.

School has now been in session for over three weeks and Rachel has already gotten detention twice.

I understand the need for discipline, of course. Kids have to learn that their choices have consequences, whether good or bad. If they aren’t careful about making sure they have what they’re supposed to every day, there should be a negative consequence. If, as in Rachel’s case, they forget to bring their instruments home and get absolutely none of their practice minutes done for the week, then yes, they should have a very negative consequence.

But here’s their consequence: A half hour of detention, which involves the student sitting there doing homework and/or reading. Big deal! What is this really teaching them? Not a heck of a lot, if you ask me.

Here’s the kicker: Said student misses the bus home, so guess who has to come and pick up the delinquent? You guessed it! The parents!

So, who’s really being punished here? Not the student. The only bad result I can see for the student is the parent being so ticked off that she has to come get her wayward child that she doles out an effective punishment herself at home.

The school administration needs to come up with something else. Every offense just can’t automatically be a detention. It’s hard for parents and it doesn’t teach the kids all that much. I would like to give them some ideas, but frankly, the only one I can think of right now is to have the transgressor write “I will not forget to practice my instrument,” or whatever the transgression was, 100 times. Menial? Yes. But boring enough that it might be much more effective than having to stay and do homework for a half hour.

Best of all, it would have no effect on parents, and isn’t the point of middle/high school to help kids become responsible and independent adults?

Any thoughts or ideas on effective discipline measures for middle-school kids that don’t involve parents suffering too? Help would be greatly appreciated!

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