Thunder Thighs

In case the Fear Factor Parenting entry was too negative and depressive, here's a new thought: Can anything in life be bad when cutie thighs like these exist?


This is the problem with parenting. Parental emotions yo-yo like a... umm, yo-yo. Life is scary! Life is delicious! I love these cherubs! I'm gonna kill these brats!

Thank goodness for naps, bunny ears, and crooked smiles.

Fear Factor Parenting

I'm not into fear based parenting. A section in my Parents magazine called "It Happened to Me" detailing freak incidents like a child cutting off his sibling's finger with safety scissors really pisses me off. Really? Safety Scissors? I refuse to give in to the voice in the back of my head that wants me to worry about insane things.

My little voice: See that edge on your coffee table? Imagine it imprinted in your baby's skull when she falls on it with her first steps.
Me: Shut up.
My little voice: Your child has been asleep and quiet for 45 minutes. Obviously she has suffocated herself with her My Little Pony doll.
Me: Shut up. (then I check on her anyway. Hand in front of face-- yep, still warm breath coming out.)

But now I'm worried about invisible danger. And the FDA, slow behemoth agency that it is, backs me up with this fear. Check this headline out: FDA Reviewing Plastic Ingredient BPA. The article talks about a chemical commonly used in baby bottles which is being studied because the National Toxicology Program thinks it might alter human development. Ominous sounding, right? The article goes on to discuss findings that low levels of the chemical can cause changes in behavior, the brain, and the age girls enter puberty. Thankfully, the FDA is launching their review. Read: they may possibly sometime in the next few years ban this chemical. Maybe.

And this is only the latest in the invisible attack on my children (and my health, too!) Their poor, immature livers are trying to detox the formaldehyde in their clothes, the chlorine in the pool, the off-gassing of the shower curtain and furniture, not to mention every time they ingest some child-marketed food product with dye, msg, and aspartame. And moving in to our new house we have paint fumes, new carpet, and drywall dust, too. My little voice is having a party in my head.

On the plus side, the "It Happened to Me" column seems quaint, old fashioned and charming in comparison. Heh, they're still afraid of the visible dangers. Isn't that sweet?

Just the Facts, Ma'am

It's been so long since I've written, and so much has happened in that time, that I'll give the quick and dirty details and fill in the rest (read: emotional side) as we go.

Feb. 8th- Moxie is 2 months old. My family goes to the Greek Festival with Kent's parents and enjoy baklava while, unbeknownst to us, someone breaks into our house for the third time in a year and a half and steals Kent's phone, our second replacement camera from the last two robberies, and my laptop. They do this in the span of ten minutes despite our huge dog and security system. Since the music at the Greek festival is loud, I don'y hear my cell phone ringing when the security company calls to warn us that our alarm has been tripped.

Feb 9th- Discussion with Kent about getting out of our house despite the really crappy timing (housing sales slump, drop in house value, new baby, our own constant poverty) Drive around our dream neighborhood looking for houses for sale.

Feb 10th- Dinner with Kent's parents. They offer to help us get out of our crappy neightborhood. My thoughts continue to be gloomy. Contemplating the decline of the neighborhood, the increasing crime, the drug use in our neighborhood park. The phrase "the whim of a crackhead" circles in my head.

Feb 11th- In our dream neighborhood, where the house prices range in the 225-250k's, we come across a four bedroom, two story cutie house priced at 175k. We call to tour.

Feb 12th-- A real estate friend comes to our house to talk about options for getting out. The situation looks bleak. We refinanced when the market was high and the value is close or below what we owe on it.

Feb 14th- We tour the other house and the real estate agent greets us with the news that the house has been lowered in price to 164k. We like what we see and invite Kent's parents to come take a look. They like what they see, too.

Feb 15th- We make an offer on the house. On my birthday. I make jokes about being THAT kind of wife-- the kind a husband buys a house for on her birthday. Next year I'm asking for a pony.

Second week after break in- I can't be alone in the house. I keep thinking about our house being watched, my girls being pretty, the insanity of somebody high on crack. We start preparing the house to list with an agent or rent out-- we haven't figured out what the smart thing to do is, but we know we're leaving. I realize that I have nothing left over from my house craziness and talk to my business partners about quitting my job as editor at the parenting magazine. I think, I don't know how to work without my laptop, I can't think creatively enough to write, I can't get organized with a two month old, a move, my panic, and no computer. And when it settles down, I'll need to get a better paying job to pay back the in-laws.

I cry a lot.

Third week after break in, last week of February- Our offer is accepted! We have a new house with a closing date of the end of March. Now we have to figure out what to do with the old house. I am in the new house for an inspection and go upstairs to nurse the baby. I get lightheaded and race out of the house worried about fumes, worried about Moxie, worried about our safety, our health. Out of the house, I realize it was stress, exhaustion, and the weird position I'd been sitting in. I sob. Will I ever be able to keep my babies safe? Will I ever feel in control again? The robbery took so much from us.

The month of March- Cleaning up the old house, finishing projects we'd put off, getting paperwork prepared for the new house, working on the last issue of the magazine and preparing a new editor to take over, parenting, crying a lot, panicking when I'm away from any of my family. I'm driving Kent a little crazy with my many check-in phone calls. I still can't stay at home alone so on evenings when kent goes to Gung Fu, I go to the Bonifields creating a stressfully late night for all of us.

The month of April- We are in the new house. We have renters lined up for the old house beginning in May. I am breathing easier. Somehow we got moved. Somehow events lined up just so. Somehow we are intact, safe.

Moxie is five months old (almost) and exploring the house by rolling from end to end of it, Tallulah is adjusting much better now that mommy isn't a raging, sobbing bundle of stress, our house is filled with boxes, but its also cute, tiny, and perfect for us. I am slowly, so slowly relaxing, unfurling my muscles and defenses an inch at a time.