Wouldn’t it be awesome if I had pictures to back up my claim?  But alas, I suffer from mom syndrome in that I am always the one behind the camera, never in front of it.  Not that I mind, really.  Because rarely am I in any position to be standing in front of a camera unless someone with professional editing capabilities is ready and waiting to touch me up.  So you’ll just have to take my word for it – I was a smart brunette for three months and I am now a fun blonde again.

See? Look how much more fun I am already.

Ahem.

So….

The two older kids are leaving today to go to Florida for a week with their grandparents.  I’m excited – and a little jealous, but just a little.  They’re going to have a great time.  And it will be fun to have some one on one time with Landon this week, although I’m afraid he and I both may be a little bored.  I’m not entirely sure what to do with just one child any more.  I remember the days when one child was overwhelming…

It’s always a little nerve racking sending your kids away without you.  I hate the feeling of being out of control.  I can only imagine how terrifying it will be when they get older and they’re driving and I really have no control over what happens to them.  Ugh – I feel an ulcer coming on just thinking about it.  Would it be wrong to sequester them in a padded room from the age of 13 until about 23?

Did I mention that I was blonde again?  I feel all sassy like.  Well, except for the extreme fatigue that’s  resulted in bags and circles under my eyes.  I was up until 1:00 last night working on my article for STL Family Life.  I finished it yesterday morning and needed nothing more than to add the photo and a few hyperlinks.  But Wordpress and HTML had other ideas – namely eating entire portions of my article not once, not twice but three flippin’ times!  By 12:30 I was near tears and muttering all manner of unladylike words (being blonde has made me saucy).

But alas, I finally conquered and prevailed and posted and went to bed.  Only to be awoken by a very excited little girl who stormed my bedroom at 5:45 announcing that today was the day they went to “Fwowida.”

Remember staying up until all hours of the night in college and it being all fun and easy and what not?  I was trying to figure out why it’s not fun, easy or…what not…anymore.  And I think I got it.  I had no responsibility back then.  I had merely to drag myself to a class or two, then back home where I could sleep as long as I wanted before getting up again.  There were no kids to feed, no beds to make, no suitcases to pack, no hugs and kisses to dole out, no fights to break up…life was way less complicated.  It was also pretty boring now that I think about it.

So in writing this post I’ve come to a sad realization – while being a blonde makes me more fun, being tired makes me a terrible drag.  I’m going to close it out before I bore you all to tears…

To read today’s article on STL Family Life, click here.

I’d like to say that a little fairy came in while I slept and folded all these mounds of clothing that are waiting to be dispersed (read: shoved) into their respective drawers.

I’d like to say that…but I can’t.

The truth is I folded these mounds of clothes and I’m not done.  That’s only five of the nine loads of laundry I did yesterday.

Try not to be jealous of me, everyone.  I know it’s hard…

- We realized last week that our kids haven’t been on antibiotics one. single. time all winter.  I’m knocking on wood as I type this.  I believe there are two reasons for this phenomenon.  First, we more than paid our dues last winter when someone was sick preeeetty much all winter long.  I’m not exaggerating when I say that we spent roughly 600 dollars in copays at the doctors office.  Second, I have been giving my kids Emergen-C like it’s going out of style.  Seriously – You’re thirsty?  Have some Emergen-C.  Your throat hurts?  Emergen-C.  You feel fine?  EMERGEN-C!  Sloan had a sore throat and a fever on Friday.  We pumped the Emergen-C in double doses and by Sunday he felt perfectly fine.  Of course he is glowing in the dark now, sssssoooooo…

- Speaking of Sloan, his top tooth is hanging on by a thread.  Every time I look at it my stomach flips over and I get all hot and light headed.  And guess who he keeps asking to try and pull it out?  ME!  The one who could quite possibly pass out if blood came spurting our of his mouth.  (In my mind I imagine the scene from The Shining when a waterfall of blood comes splashing down the hallway – *shudder*)  He doesn’t want Lee to do it – just me.  He came into our room at 5:45 yesterday morning to have me wiggle his tooth.  That thing better fall out quick.

- I put about 20 items on Craig’s List this weekend.  I’ve sold a lot of it and am a little over half way to my goal of remaking my bedroom.  But if I get one more spam message from someone who is “interested” in my item but wants me to click on her link to make sure it’s what her son/cousin/brother is looking for I’m gonna go batty.  I may have gotten a little nasty with someone yesterday…

- My parents put their house on the market Monday afternoon.  They are under contract as of yesterday afternoon.  Mom is panicking (*deep breaths mom*).  They thought it would take longer.  They close in 5 weeks.  The bummer is that we love my parents house and are sad to see it go (they’ll get a condo here in town).  The plus is that I will be able to sell more stuff on Craig’s List.  Wahoo!

- I wrote a giveaway/review over at 5 Minutes for Giveaways today for the Superstar Barbie.  It’s not up yet but it will be later.   It is now up and running.  LEave a comment to enter and win a commemorative st of Superstar Barbie dolls.  If you don’t want to win a Barbie but do want to check out Barbie’s rockin’ shoes that I totally love, check it out anyway!

- I am writing an article on raising bilingual kids in a monolingual home for STL Family Life this week.  I’m gonna have a few late nights as I work to put that together.  Hello procrastination, I’m so glad you’re here.

- Have I mentioned that it’s gonna be 60 degrees today?  That makes me want to do back handsprings down the street.  But I can’t do a back handspring anymore so I may have to settle for a pathetic hurkey when no one is looking…

- We watched the Oscars last night.  I don’t know why.  We haven’t seen a single movie that was up for nomination.  Well, that’s not true – we saw UP.  We haven’t always been this cool, folks.

- Landon’s new favortie phrase is “Oh My Dosh.”  He says it a hundred times a day and it’s funny every time.  He is also showing a great deal of interest in the potty.  He’s not ready to train yet, but I am letting him sit on the potty a few times a day.  He hasn’t gone in it yet because he usually tells me he has to go after he’s already gone.  But he’ll sit on the potty for ten minutes talking and playing (usually with himself…ah the joys of little boys).

- I have so much laundry to do that I fear I may get lost in the mounds of clothing spread around the basement.  That is today’s number one goal to accomplish.

- And with that, I will head out.  Have a nice Monday!

As we grooved to Beat It, I laughed out loud at Sloan’s interpretation of the lyrics.  He boldly sang every word…exactly as he was hearing it.  Here is what he was singing:

Just Beat it, Beat it

Beat it, Beat it

No one wants to beat it beat it.

Showim a buckey

Not a stoplight

It doesn’t mada

Who’s gonna light

Just Beat it

So I did what any self respecting mother would do…I turned down the volume and told him the real words.  Only, as I spoke the lyrics that I usually sing, I realized that they sounded ridiculous and that I was likely singing the wrong thing as well. 

It’s kind of the story of my life.  For some reason I’ve always had a hard time distinguishing lyrics in a song, but I love to sing, so I sing out what I hear boldly.  For years (like until I was in high school) I swore the lyrics to the song “We Built This City on Rock and Roll” were The Milk is sitting.  The Milk is sitting on Roock and Roll. Miiilk is sitting.  The Milk is sitting on Rock and Roll.

It wasn’t until I actually saw the title of the song as a teenager that it clicked.  It was an ah-ha moment of sorts.  And the actual lyrics made a lot more sense than what I sang.  So when I hear Sloan sing along to grown up songs, I often find myself guffawing as we bop down the road.  Not only because the words he sings are ridiculous, but also because oftentimes I’m hearing the same thing he is.

So as we rocked out to MJ yesterday, I told Sloan that the actual words were:

Show him how funky

Long as your right

It doesn’t matter

Who’s wrong or right

Just beat it beat it

When I called Lee and sang my lyrics to him he bust out laughing.  “That’s doesn’t make sense,” he cackled.  “I know, but Michael Jackson’s lyrics never make sense,” I replied.  In my mind I started running through the song Thriller.

It’s just a Thriller in the night

And no one’s gonna save you from the knee that’s in your side.

I wisely decided not to mention to Lee that those are the words I sing along with MJ.  So Lee and I hung up and Sloan and I decided we would just sing what we heard since nobody seemed to know the real words.

In case you’re wondering, the actual lyrics to Beat It are this:

Just Beat it, Beat it

Beat it, Beat it

No one wants to be defeated.

Showin’ how funky and strong is your fight

It doesn’t matter who’s wrong or right

Just beat it.

I was actually not that far off.  Score one for mommy.

Oh, and I have also looked up the words to Thriller.  Yeah…the real words make a ton more sense.  Huh…

When I do let them watch morning TV, I try to limit it to cartoons as it’s so much easier to turn it off after 25 or 30 minutes.  However, Landon has recently decided he enjoys watching TV with one particular movie being his very favorite.  And because he’s so dang cute and I really, really have a hard time saying no to him when he scrunches up his face and says, “Pweas?” then flashes his huge grin that dissolves me into a puddle of goo, I decided I couldn’t say no again.

So Tia and Landon are currently sitting on the couch watching Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs.  Or “Cwoudy with da chance of da meatball” as Tia calls it.

When I pushed play Landon jumped up and down and clapped his hands yelling “Beatball, beatball, beatball” then hugged my leg and said “I Yub You” before settling on the couch to watch.  Uuummm…so I’ll give him anything he wants for the rest of his life if he keeps doing that.

He’s gonna be rotten.

The thing is, I actually really love this movie myself.  I think it’s hysterical.  Everytime I watch it I laugh out loud, particularly when the kids quote the lines along with the movie. Fuh-hu-nny.

So that’s it…that’s all I’ve got today.  I give in to nearly every one of Landon’s requests, I would give him my heart just to hear him say “I yub you,” and I love the movie Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs.

Bet you’re glad you stopped by here today, eh?

Well, so I don’t completely waste your time, I will send you here where you can read up on the bloggers who are currently on a Compassion International trip in Kenya.  I’ve already been challenged and encouraged by a couple of the posts I’ve read this morning and it’s only their first day there.  If you’re not already sponsoring a child, I would encourage you to consider Compassion.  What they are doing for children and families suffering in poverty is nothing short of a miracle.  For 37 dollars a month, you can completely alter the course of a child’s life.  Just think about it.  And read their posts.

Also, my first post for STL Family Life will be up and running shortly is now up and running!  So check it out this afternoon.  Thanks everyone and enjoy what is shaping up to be a beautiful day.

Spring is almost here, yeah!

Ahem.

So I forgot to pick Sloan up at school today.  And he’s apparently not going to let me forget about it.  I usually pick him up every Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday because I can’t wait for his bus and still get to Tia’s school in time to pick her up.  Thursday and Friday, however, he always rides the bus home.

Except today was an early release day, which for half day kindergartners means they actually get out of school later rather than earlier.  Try to keep up…

Most often, early release days fall on a Friday.  But apparently the school district likes to mess with us parents and throw one in the middle of the week now and again.  So…I forgot it was early release day and drove to school at normal time to pick up the boy.  As I pulled in, I noticed there were no other cars/buses waiting then saw the sign announcing Earl Release.  So I left, assuming that Sloan would just ride the bus home like he always does on early release days.  I did not think about the fact that his teacher expects me to pick him up on Tuesdays.

Cut to me, at home, fixing lunch for the younger two monkeys and the phone rings with a report that they have my child sitting in the office waiting to be picked up.  I throw the monkeys in the car sans shoes/coats and dash to the school where Sloan greets me with a “Mom, what the heck?!” and a scowl.  I then endured a rather pointed lecture all the way home about how next time I need to send in a note so the teacher knows he’s supposed to get on the bus.

Got it, dear.

And now I’m home and it’s quiet.  And I’m cold.

I’m also preparing to write my first post for STLFamilyLife.  I met up with the lovely Lisa and Melody last night to discuss partnering with them to build this new site for St. Louis area families.  I’m very excited to be working on this with them as they are both very experienced, great writers and all around fun gals to be with.  It’s a fun new venture.

And so I’m off to make a cup of hot tea, wrap a blanket around my shoulders and hammer out a post.  And give Sloan one more hug and kiss…

We were in Walgreens picking up a certain variety of medicine that is supposed to ensure that no more little Stuarts enter this world right now when we ran into a group of giggly girls who had clearly walked over from the Middle School across the street.  As I looked at them wandering the isles all silly-like I had a quick flashback to my own days of walking to this very plaza from the same school.  The Walgreens is newer and now sits on the corner instead of in the back of the plaza, but it was still funny to watch them flitting about, laughing about things that weren’t even remotely funny and filling the sleepy store with the raucous sounds on tweendom.

At least they weren’t smoking around back which may or may not be what I did back in my Walgreens days.  I was such a rebel when I was 14.  ::eyeroll::

As soon as we walked into the store, Sloan’s radar went off.  He was immediately aware of the older girls that were in close proximity.  And it turned him into something that is beginning to emerge with greater frequency the older he gets.  This shouldn’t surprise me given recent comments he’s made, but I found myself utterly baffled by the abrupt change in behavior he exhibited.  He was like a little bee, buzzing here and there, ever aware of the females in his presence.

Like every other girl, my mom told me as a kid that the reason boys bothered me was because they liked me.  I never believed her, of course.  I just thought boys were incessantly annoying.  Until, you know, the day they became less than annoying and the attention was flattering.

But as I watched Sloan turn into a ninja warrior in that store, hiding around corners, jumping out and pretend shooting the girls, I caught a glimpse of that little nugget of truth shared by my mom so long ago.  And as the girls giggled and squealed and exclaimed, “Oh My Ga, he’s, like, sooooo cute,” I saw Sloan’s face flush and a look of male dominance flash through his eyes.  His chest puffed out and he aimed his “gun” (his fingers accompanied by a gun sound that only a little boy can make) at the group once more and shot.  And they laughed in such a high pitch tone that I thought my ears would bleed.  And I laughed and shook my head and ushered my little ladies man along.

“What are you doing?” I asked Sloan who walked along with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“I just like girls,” he said with a shrug.  “I like to be with girls.  By myself.”

And off he flitted, my little bee, dancing to the beat of a rhythm I wasn’t fully prepared for just yet.  He is aware of girls, he is fascinated by girls, he is attracted to girls (obviously in a completely innocent way).  And here I sit, his baffled mother, wondering what on Earth we’re going to do with him.

What am I going to do with him?  I see the innocence of his actions.  He is aware that girls are different from boys and the difference is attracting.  He is also still completely grossed out by the site of boys and girls kissing (thank God Almighty) but at the same time I think he is equally fascinated and mortified by the attraction between boys and girls.  Oh yeah…he’s only six.  Six.  I expected this behavior around 10.  Not six.  Lord help me…

It is interesting, this process of watching your child grow up and mature.  It is both terrifying and thrilling all at once.  And as this self awareness begins to develop I find myself entirely unprepared to handle the dance of the little bee.  We have time, of course. But if there’s one thing I’ve observed since having children it’s that time does not, indeed, slow down.  In fact, I’m quite sure it’s speeding up.  It won’t be long until I have a tween who is still innocent in the issue of attraction, but whose impulses towards attraction are much stronger.  I wonder if I will still find it so baffling and hysterical? 

I also have a girl who will one day be one of those silly, giggly, Middle School girls who knows how to flirt and laugh in such a way that little boys lose whatever reason they may have and begin acting in a way that makes your head spin.  Maybe Christ could return before that – like…today.

We have visions of a full ride to college and an early retirement when he goes Pro! No pressure, Landon…

Alternately titled “How to turn 12 hours in to 36 without even trying…”

Or: “An American girl on a Ukrainian train to Prague with an Iranian born German.”

I failed to mention in my previous post that on my way to the train station in Kiev where my adventurous journey to Prague would begin, I was accosted by a very drunk Ukrainian man.  It was 10:00 at night, dark and the metro station was empty when he came up behind me and pinned my arms down by my side.  I honestly don’t think he was trying to hurt me – I just think he was wasted.

I calmly called  screamed for help and a young policeman came running to my rescue.  He yanked the guy off me and pushed me into the awaiting metro car that would take me to the train station.  So, you know…that was the start of this adventure.

So, now I’m in Prague and I’m wiping Cameron’s slobber out of my ear as I make my way out to what I am hoping is the main square.  It is early Monday morning and I am armed with my backpack (which contains one change of clothes, my passport and nothing else) and a scrap of paper that lists the address and phone number of the hostel where my friend and her group are staying.  My first order of business is to call my host family in Ukraine as I know they are probably panicking since they thought I would arrive in Prague more than a day earlier.

Allo?

Sergei?

Kelli!  Where are you? Are you okay?! We have been so worried.

Sergei then went on to tell me that after they didn’t hear from me, they called the station to check on my train and were informed that it was a much longer train ride than they had been originally told.  Shortly after that, they received a phone call from my friend Wanida saying that she and her group were actually running a day behind schedule, which meant that I actually beat them to Prague.  A bit of God’s Providence as I would have been wandering the streets of Prague alone for two days had I, indeed, been on a 12 hour express train.

After I hung up with Sergei, I decided my first order of business would be to find some place to buy toothpaste and maybe some shampoo and get something to eat since I hadn’t had any more than a few bites of bread in almost two days. 

Entering the heart of Prague, I stopped and took in the sites.  I was struck by the beauty of the city.  Because it was early morning, the autumn sun was just starting to spill over the buildings.  The architechture took my breath away and I found myself mezmorized by the different structures before me.  I knew nothing about Prague and was itching to explore once I stabalized my blood sugar.

I began walking down what looked to be a main street and almost immediately picked up a follower.  He came out of nowhere and walked right on my heels.

Xello zere, pritty girl.  Would yoo like to buy some xash (hash)?

I shook my head and sped up.  It was a fairly crowded street so I determined that if he tried anything funny I could scream and escape easily.

Come on now, pritty girl.  Eet ees very good xash. 

No! I told him firmly.

And yet he persisted.  For almost 30 minutes he persisted in trying to sell me hash.  And in that time I walked in circles because I didn’t want to venture off this main path.  Finally, having had enough, I whirled around on my heel and faced my annoyance.  He was tall, greasy and smelled of urine and cheap tobacco.

Seriously! Do I LOOK like the type of girl that would do hash?  Please, leave me alone.

He bowed all creepy like and folded his hands under his chin, then turned and walked away.  I breathed a sigh of relief and continued my search for toothpaste.  Finally, I found a small pharmacy where I bought some Suave Spring Rain shampoo and conditioner and AIM toothpaste.  I think I paid $15.00 for those three items.  And to the glory of God, a Kentucky Fried Chicken was right next door.  

I entered the restaurant and breathed in deep the smell of crispy fried chicken then made a beeline for the bathroom where I check out my reflection in the mirror.  As I took in the circles under my eyes and my stringy, greasy hair I realized I kind of did look like the type of girl who would do hash…

After washing my hair in the sink and brushing my teeth, I felt like a new woman.  I’m not sure I’ve ever felt more clean in all my life.  I then walked out and dropped another load of cash on the best chicken and biscuit I’ve ever tasted and walked back out on the the streets of Prague feeling like a million bucks.

Since I knew Wanida and her friends wouldn’t be arriving until that night, I decided to explore a bit.  I wandered until I found the Charles Bridge, only I didn’t know it was called the Charles Bridge at the time.  Iwas in awe of the vendors selling photographs and paintings, singing and dancing.  Every ten feet, I stopped to admire the brilliant statues that graced the bridge.  If I could figure out how to work our new scanner and printer, I would share some of my pictures.  But I can’t figure it out so if you’re interested in seeing it, you can go to google and check it out.  Or watch the opening scene of the original Mission: Impossible, which was filmed in Prague.

After taking my time to check out every vendor, I stopped at the end of the bridge and looked out over the water at a hillside that was covered with gorgeous red, yellow and orange trees.  The autumn colors had created a patchwork piece of art across the vibrant green hill.  And at the top I could make out the shape of a woman leading a flock of goats.  It was picturesque and I determined that before my few days in Prague were over, I would climb that hill and look back at the bridge.

I eventually made my way back to the city square where I found a small grocery store and bought a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and the book Jane Eyre.  Then I hailed a cab and headed to the youth hostel.  By this time it was late afternoon and the sun was beginning to fall behind the horizen.  Wanida’s group was supposed to arrive at 7:00. 

When I arrived at the hostel, I told the receptionist who I was and who I was waiting for.  She asked me to have a seat.  I did and promptly opened up my box of cereal and dug into my new book.

At 8:00, I asked the receptionist if she had heard from the group.  She blinked twice then told me that she was very sorry, but the group had called and they were staying at a different hostel…on the other side of town.

If you go outside and walk three blocks you will be able to get a cab to take you to this hostel, she told me handing me a piece of paper with the hostel’s address and phone number on it.

So I headed out into the dark streets of Prague and found myself in a back alley where an older gentleman who, once again, had had too much to drink stumbled into my path and said something to me in Czech.  I shrugged my shoulders and tried to push past him.

Oh you are American girl, yes? Oh please, pritty American girl. Give me money for a beer.  Just one beer.  I just need a little beet of money.

He then reached down and grabbed my butt and gave it a squeeze.  I burst into tears and took off running with him calling out behind me to stop.  I finally made it to a busy street, wiped my eyes and hailed a cab who took me to the hostel where I rushed in to find a worried Wanida sitting in the lobby waiting for me.  I grabbed onto her and and laughed and cried.

Are you okay? she asked.

Yes, I answered.  But I don’t want to be near another man for a long, long time.

After I was finally united with a group of Americans, I had a wonderful few days in Prague.  I learned a lot about that beautiful city, I ate at amazing restarants, I ran along the Charles Bridge at night singing the theme song to Mission: Impossible, I bought gorgeous photographs that are today hanging in my foyer and I was all over refreshed after a stressful trip.

When Wanida’s group left, I had about 7 hours by myself to wander before my train was to depart.  My hands were loaded down with bags full of souviner’s, but I did the one thing I was determined to do.  I hiked to the hill across from Charles Bridge (which was much father away than I had anticipated – I guarantee I walked three miles to get there) and trekked up the hill (which was much steeper than it looked) and stood at the top looking over the city of Prague.  I sang praise songs and enjoyed the sound of my voice floating uninterrupted through the air.  It was a spectacular moment.

Finally, I headed back to the train station and began the long journey back to my temporary home.  And this time, I got a room to myself the entire way back…

She did not dissapoint in the drama department with the ear exam came.  She screamed bloody murder.  She kicked, she flailed, I had to lay on top of her to keep her still.  The doctor was able to see inside enough to know that Tia’s eardrums are, indeed, no longer visible due to wax build up…again.  But, because she seems to be hearing fine at this point and cleaning out her ears without sedation is out of the question, we let it go.  We will probably have to have her sedated again next year before she starts kindergarten.

Cleaning out that girl’s ears is getting expensive.

After we talked a bit, the doctor told me that Tia would be receiving two immunizations, then she packed up her stuff and left.  I didn’t think to ask her what the immunizations would be – I should have.  It was my mistake for not asking…and maybe her mistake for not saying it in the first place.

Just before the nurse came in to administer the shots, I checked the sheet and noticed that one of the shots was the chicken pox vaccination.  This is a vaccine that Lee and I have decided, for the time being, to pass on.  (we are skipping or delaying several vaccinations.  You can read about why we decided to do that here.)  So when the nurse came in, I told her that I didn’t want Tia to receive that shot.  Her eyes narrowed and she got a peeved look on her face.

“It’s a $70.00 shot and I’ve already drawn it up.  It is only good for 30 minutes after it’s drawn up,” she said.  And my heart sank.  I honestly didn’t know what to do.  So I asked for a minute to think about it.  I wasn’t able to get in touch with Lee so I called my mother-in-law and got her opinion, then the nurse came back.

I felt really terrible, but I couldn’t justify giving Tia the shot simply because I didn’t want to waste the vaccine.  Had I known before the doctor left the room I would have declined the shot earlier, but the circumstances left me to decide what I felt was best for my child.  So I declined the shot.

To the nurse’s credit, though she was obviously annoyed, she did not treat me poorly and was very forgiving as I apologized profusely.  She did want to know why I wasn’t comfortable giving Tia the vaccine and I explained to her that I just don’t think it’s a warranted vaccination and I want to wait until more research is done on the long term effectiveness of that particular vaccination.  At this point, it’s considered to only be effective for up to ten years, which means kids are going to need booster shots likely for the rest of their lives whereas if they would only receive the chicken pox in childhood they would build up an effective immunity.

Now, the obvious dilemma in not giving them the vaccine is that it will be extremely difficult to expose them to chicken pox in childhood since almost everyone is being immunized.  Which means that sometime down the road we may have to vaccinate them.  But this is a shot that I have no problem holding off on and waiting until more research is done.  If we have to give it to her later, then neither Lee nor I have a problem in doing that.

She may not be too happy with us, of course, but we’ll cross that bridge later.

Yesterday, however, I felt terribly guilty and even a little embarrassed.  While the nurse was patient with me, I imagine I was discussed as one of those crazy paranoid mothers after I left.  And I’m really not a crazy paranoid mother.  But I am an aware mother and I hold firm to the fact that, ultimately, I am responsible for these little lives placed in my care and it is more important to me that I stick to my guns and fight for what I feel is right than bend on my convictions so that the doctor isn’t out a $70.00 vaccination.

Thankfully, my husband confirmed my decision when I got home…

What are your thoughts?

_________________________________________________________

To the right you will notice I’ve added a banner for this Saturday’s Help Haiti Live benefit that’s being put on be Compassion International.  It is a one night, two city concert being broadcast from both Los Angelos and Nashville.  If you are in either of those areas you can purchase tickets and see the event live.  If you are nowhere near, then you can watch the event live via the lovely internet.  Consider taking part and contributing to the fundraiser they are sponsoring to continue the work of rebuilding Haiti.