Twice Blessed Life

While I was pregnant with the girls, I had a lot of time to read up on all the latest parenting techniques among other things, and I discovered something called “attachment parenting”.  I recommend “The Baby Book” by Dr. William Sears (his website is www.askdrsears.com ).  One of the main things in attachment parenting is to not let the child(ren) ‘cry it out’, but to be attentive to their needs.

I thought this sounded like a grand idea and I then consulted our local expert on touchy-feely parenting techniques: Brian the diaper guy.  (www.diaper-duty.com ) Brian has raised two kids this way and he told me all about the many ways this has had a positive effect on his kids’ development.  I was very impressed and decided that this would be the way we would raise our twins, albeit with a few alterations, because no way was I going to be wearing TWO babies in a sling!  Not unless I had a forklift handy to heft all three of us around.

Then came the opposition.  My husband got it at work, we even got it from other members of our church.  “You’ll spoil the girls,” and “They’re just manipulating you.”

Yes, of course, (thwacks self on head) how could I have possibly missed it?  Babies are born devious and manipulative!  They are so conscious on every level and have such control over themselves that they deliberately with malice aforethought play us adults like the meat puppets we are to them!

We’ve got to put these machiavellian little creatures in a maximum security penitentiary right now before they get access to weapons of mass destruction and life as we know it will end!

I mean, look at how well humanity has turned out with the tried and true method of emotional neglect:  we’ve got nifty wars, violent crime, pandemic poverty, rampant corruption in every sector of world society!  Hmm, yes these are results to be envied and emulated!

I’ll use a technical term here: “phooey”. 

Tell me, if a baby was hungry and she was crying to let you know her stomach was empty.  Would you say she was being manipulative and devious?  Would it be spoiling to feed a hungry baby?

Starve the body or starve the heart and soul.  Something dies if you do either one.

I would no more deprive my kids of food than I would deprive their hearts of love.

Maybe if people were less worried about “spoiling” kids and tried feeding their starving hearts, we’d have a nicer world to live in. 

C’mon, all of you moms out there, admit it - there are things you’ve done in the name of motherhood that you’d prefer no other living soul ever found out!  The very thought of some of these things being found out makes you cringe in embarassment. 

I’m about to reveal some of these things…

For one, I don’t bathe my children every day.  I figure, that if people got by in ‘Little House on the Prairie’ days with just one bath a week, my twins can, too.  It’ll also help them deal with bacteria better - scientists are finding out that antibacterial soaps and things are just making our immune systems more vulnerable to bacteria and pathogens.

Also, and I’m sure I’m not the only mama out there who does this, but when my kids drop food on the floor, and refuse to eat it, well, waste not, want not. Yes, I actually eat it.  (We have very clean floors - no shoes allowed).

In fact, I probably eat more food that’s been dropped on the floor, than I do from other sources! 

This year for Halloween, Zanna was a ladybug and Halle was a bumblebee.  They both, however, detested their antennae, and Zanna felt quite strongly that she shouldn’t wear wings.

After dressing them, we tucked them into their stroller, and proceeded around our apartment complex collecting…..donations for hurricane victims in Haiti.

None of that high-fructose corn syrup, melamine-tainted %*#)( for us!

The night before, I leaflet-ed a couple of buildings in our complex with a note in English/Spanish (my best friend Liz did the translation - thanks so much!) letting people know we’d be by the next night with the girls to collect.

Then on Halloween, when we knocked on doors, people were right there to meet us with little ziplock baggies stuffed full of coins.  We also got a few donation of paper currency, too!    They oo-d and ah-ed over the girls, who cutely waved back.  There were a few curmudgeonly types that initially didn’t want to donate, but in the face of Zanna and Halle peering up at them with big adorable eyes and innocently sucking on thumb and pacifier, respectively, they caved.

All in all, we collected $70.29!

This has gone to a great charity called IRFF - International Relief Friendship Foundation www.irff.org .

We’re thinking of doing this every year, and then having a victory party afterwards for the girls, so they can still get (healthy) treats like their friends, but it’ll be positive reinforcement of socially-consious behavior, too. 

We mama’s have to multi-task.

Well, I’ve done my bit for democracy in action and voted early.  I’ve never done the early thing before, but everyone kept saying the lines on Election Day would be HUGE! and having to bring 15 month old twins along to stand on line for HOURS just didn’t seem to appeal to me for some odd reason .

So I went early.  It seemed like a sunny day, so I packed juice, extra water and lotsa snacks and fruit.  Lucky us, as soon as we got in line it became overcast, so I didn’t have to worry about baby heatstroke.

The girls were pretty well behaved.  Now and again, I’d have to break into a song and dance routine of “The Eensy Weensy Spider,” but the people around us were pretty good sports about the many encores the girls required.  Halle even fell asleep after an hour and a half. 

Then it started to rain.  Thankfully the librarians (it was our local library) let as many people in as possible and the line snaked in and out of the book aisles.

Finally, after two and a half hours, we reached the head of the line and were about to enter the voting area.

Then this big, bossy behemoth stepped in front of us to block the way.  “You can’t go in there with them,” she declared with a frown on her face, as she eyed my little cherubs as though they were a particularly loathsome specimen of insect.

Then she told me to bring them home, get “someone” to watch them and come back alone.  As though I had oodles of “someone”s on tap to watch the babies at my leisure.

I assured her politely but firmly that the babies were both American citizens.  She still insisted we leave.  I also assured her that they were not spies or terrorists.  She would not budge.

Then I began to be ticked off.  I told her that after waiting in line for two and a half hours, we were not going anywhere, so she’d better step aside and while I was at it I wanted to talk to her supervisor, too!

She grumbled and grunted, I glared - I won. 

Then the supervisor did that irritating thing and said “You must have misunderstood her, she would NEVER say anything like THAT.”

Uh-huh, yeah, right buddy.  I know when my rights have been trampled on.

Then they stashed me in a corner and make me wait extra while they insisted I have a voting booth “out of the way”.

Finally, I was allowed to fill out my ballot.  Then one of my daughters started shrieking and I looked down to see why.  Apparently one of the poll workers took it upon themselves to steal the library receipt I had given Zanna to amuse herself with.

I know the government is uber-intrusive and privacy-violating when it comes to library records, but stealing them from a BABY is reaching new heights of low, even for them.

I stalked over, plucked it from their grasping paws, gave them my best “thou shalt crumble before me, for I am MAMA” glare, while he stammered and sputtered, and handed the thing back to my daughter who promptly quieted.

 I went back to my ballot, finished it up and went over to the scanning machine thingy.  I’m pretty sure that’s the official name for it - “the scanning machine thingy”.  Comes from latin, or something.

Anyway.

Again, while being urged to move forward to have my ballot scan, there was ANOTHER poll worker blocking my way and refusing to move.  I said “Excuse, me sir.” several times but was ignored, so I forged ahead, running over his foot with the double stroller.  He looked at me a bit shocked, but tough cookies, fella.  Get in the way of a twins mama practicing her fundamental rights at your peril.

I was, by golly, going to participate in the democratic process, or know the reason why!  And if I have to mash a few recalcitrant feet to do it, then so be it! 

Then we went and had lunch.