A shot in the arm

When Jellybean was born almost 4 1/2 years ago, the chatter about vaccines causing other health problems was just beginning. I read about it, but I didn't feel like I needed to do anything differently because of the possibilities. I took her to each well baby appointment and dutifully recorded each shot in her health record.

Nearly two years later, by the time Peanut arrived, moms everywhere were all a-twitter about all the ailments that could be a direct result of routine childhood vaccinations. I consulted my pediatrician at each appointment and decided to bypass a couple of shots, including the rotavirus vaccine, at her recommendation. I was really on top of things and felt like I knew all the choices I could make about the vaccines.

I felt confident and informed about Peanut's vaccines until. Until last week. I received a notice from the state of Michigan that Peanut was lacking the final dose of one of her vaccines, and I needed to check with my pediatrician's office about that dose. I double-checked my records and corroborated the state's information -- she had all the shots they said she had, and no more.

So, I called the pediatrician's office, and come to find out, that final dose is actually optional. I am choosing to skip it for my own reasons. But I didn't even realize it was a choice. I had asked all the right questions. I had scrutinized every shot. I was in tune to what was happening. Except I wasn't. It's just a minor optional vaccine booster. Why didn't anyone give me the choice, then?! How many of those agonizing shots that she's already had were optional?

At least in all my paying attention and educating myself about vaccines, I have learned one valuable piece of information: checking titers. I will definitely be doing that for both of my girls when the time comes for them to go to kindergarten.

Strange bedfellows

Jellybean loves books -- like, so much that she sleeps with them. Literally. Books in her bed. Every night.

I also love books, but the thought of large hunks of hardcover storybooks poking me from every angle while I attempt to slumber is not the least bit appealing. I'll stick to reading them and placing them on my nightstand. Jellybean will not; in the bed they go.

Books in her bed have been a nightly request for, oh, almost three years. I thought it was a phase that would last a couple weeks at most. Shows what I know.

It all started 3+ years ago when I was out of town, and L came in to get 1-year-old Jellybean out of her crib in the morning. Her crib was strewn with books, nearly covering the entire surface. She had maneuvered them through the slats, presumably one by one, the previous night while L thought she was asleep. (Her nightstand was in close proximity)

Pretty much ever since then, at every naptime and bedtime she has asked for books in her bed -- and we have complied. She likes to look through them and "read" them (i.e., recite them from memory) to herself before drifting off to sleep. But that's only a small part of them. I think she actually draws comfort from the books' mere presence. Often she's too tired to even touch them, but there they remain, carefully tucked under her pillow all night long. They're there if she needs them.

Other times, she dives in and reads each one, then arranges them to suit her sleeping comfort. I have performed many a delicate nighttime book extrication in the dark to prevent her from rolling onto them or knocking them onto the floor (which has happened more times than I can count -- THUD, in the middle of the night).

She has her lovey Berkeley Bear, her quilt and her books. What more does a girl need for her beauty rest?

Side note: The books make for great leverage if she's misbehaving at bedtime. "If you keep acting like this, there will be no books in your bed tonight." Problem solved.

Sundays unplugged

No matter what we've done on any given weekend, I'm always tired by Sunday night. Often on Sunday mornings, with children scurrying about, I find myself fantasizing about sitting down and just zoning out with a book or crossword puzzle. So I decided to make it official (well, as official as anything is in this house) and declare Sunday evenings after the girls are in bed "Sundays unplugged."

That means, that whatever L and I do, the phone sometimes being an exception -- it's a cell phone, after all -- must be manual: reading the paper, reading a book, talking (gasp!), doing the Sunday crossword, playing a game, etc. No TV, no music, no computer.

And can I tell you? It is one of the best parts of my week! It's the ideal way to wrap up a busy weekend, and it's an oasis of calm. It gives us an excuse to settle down and not have people talking at us -- which we have plenty of, weekend or not -- and to just. Be.

The idea of crossword puzzles as relaxation is pretty new for us. Our parents took them up fairly recently, with the idea of keeping their minds limber as they age. Between collaborating with them on puzzles when we're all together and the movie "Wordplay," I think we got inspired.

Just writing this, I'm already looking forward to tonight. No more Sunday night blues about the work week beginning. Just chillin' with my old-fashioned books, papers and pencils! And hopefully doing well on the Sunday crossword.

Makeovers

Who doesn't love a makeover? Really, we all are kind of obsessed with the instant gratification of someone or something going shab to chic. Sorta like my oven last year. Well, maybe I was the only one excited about that.

Anyway, the girls needed haircuts. Really badly. Like, they looked so shaggy, they were almost neglected. I do NOT want to take them to the salon every other month for a coiffure. I have better things to do with my time -- and patience. (Thank goodness I didn't have boys! They would just have long hair, but not for style reasons.)

So I am officially announcing my subscription to the "Cut-as-much-as-possible-so-we-don't-spend-our-lives-at-the-salon" school of hair styling. And, please don't suggest I cut their hair myself. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, especially my own children.

You can see for yourself how dramatic the transformations were. I love actually being able to see their faces now, instead of two little mops of blond hair. And they have loved showing of their new 'dos.

The lollipops? Yet another perq.

Hiding quarters

I never understood until I was a parent how a toddler's mispronunciation of words morphs so naturally into a family's permanent vernacular. I guess if you hear it wrong enough times, you subconsciously start repeating what you hear -- even when you're the adult!

Peanut started having flare-ups of eczema after she turned 1. I learned to stay ahead of the breakouts, and when we do, the itchiness isn't a problem. But every once in a while the eczema beats us to the punch. Thankfully, we have prescription hydrocortisone that we put on the "itchies," as Peanut calls them, to stop them in their tracks.

Last winter, I was putting some hydrocortisone on an itchy when she picked up the tube and called it her "hiding quarters." After that, every time she had a breakout, she would say, "Mama, can I have some hiding quarters for my itchies?"

It wasn't until last week that I realized no one in this house refers to hydrocortisone by its correct pronunciation. At least WE know what we're talking about! (I'm sure a babysitter or two has been confronted with this request and wondered what we're doing with our coins)

As far as the eczema goes, we use high-moisture, all-natural lotions twice a day, in addition to a kind-of expensive bath soap. We've managed well so far, but I recently read about this study involving bleach baths, and, crazy as it sounds, maybe it's worth a try this winter. It might save us refilling our prescription for hiding quarters.

Farm to table

As I have mentioned before, I am a huge fan of eating locally, and I make both local and organic foods priorities for us. In that vein, this summer, for the first time in several years, we subscribed to a local farm share.

Going into the summer, I knew from the past a few things would be true with the farm share: 1. The fruits and veggies would be delicious beyond our imagination. 2. Cleaning and sorting the share would be a decent-sized project each week. 3. Incorporating everything in the share into our weekly menu would be a challenge.

These assertions all turned out to be accurate. The food has been SO good -- I didn't know salads could be so satisfying. However, I have come to appreciate when someone else (either L or the grocery store) cleans lettuce, spinach and potatoes for me. I spent more than a few hours leaning over my sink trying to rinse every bit of grit from the vegetables.

And I was glad to be prepared for allowing flexibility in our meals, because we only had a day or two's warning of what would be in the share each week. I am impressed at our creativity -- it was a team effort for L and me -- finding ways to fix even the most obscure of vegetables day in and day out. Along the way, we happened upon some delicious recipes and concepts.
But even with my previous experience with the farm share, nothing could have prepared me for how the kids would respond. I had no idea that they would eagerly anticipate our weekly trips to the farmer's market to retrieve the share. "When is it Wednesday so we can get stuff from the farmers?" they ask. We're talking about vegetables here, not toys. But it is approaching that level of excitement.

As we drive home from the farmer's market with our share box packed chock-full, they speculate about what might be inside. By the time we're home, opening the box on the kitchen floor is nothing short of Christmas, and I'm not exaggerating. "Finally, corn!" "Crunchy carrots!" "My favorite spinach!" (we call kale spinach for simplicity's sake) "Cucumbers to pickle!" Both Jellybean and Peanut now can identify almost every seasonal vegetable and fruit in its natural, raw state.

We have our farm share until mid-October. After that, we're on our own, I guess.

Chicago trip!

I just re-read my post I wrote before our trip to Chicago, and I can't get over how neurotic I sound. I'm not really like that, am I? Sheesh.

Despite all the (minor) challenges I mentioned, our trip was really fun. We stayed in a single hotel room with both girls, managed to get enough sleep to be sane, and got around the city just fine.

I got a lot of messages from friends with advice from my anal retentive post, so it was worth it. A friend lent me her stroller and Highlights magazines, and I got many, many great Chicago tips, almost all of which I used this time. The rest will be saved for our next trip! Such a fun place to visit.

L and I spent some quality time in the hotel room bathroom while the kids went to sleep, both at naptime and in the evenings. (Thank God for wireless internet.) It won't be long before we'll be done with naps and ready for later bedtimes that we can all do together -- but we're not there yet! So, trips like this are fun but not ideal. We were there 3 nights, and I think that was about all we could do before the lack of sleep would've turned us all into monsters.

One note: I am happy I dug out our old white noise machine from when Jellybean was a baby. It was the perfect buffer for hallway noise and plumbing noise in the hotel (for all of us!).