Hey, parents, stop freaking ruining Christmas with your laziness and manipulation

It wasn't my intention to roll out THREE blog posts today. Believe it or not, I have stuff to do! But I can't take this trend I'm seeing on social media and I wanted to address it.

First of all, if you have shared any of these, I'm not really talking to you because I assume I have the kind of friends who would never do this and maybe just think the idea is humorous in theory.

However, if you're a parent who actually thinks, as many of the testimonials say, "This is a great idea!" then I'd like to appeal to you on several levels.

Let's start with this: 

Let me quote from this lady's blog: "This elf warning for naughty kids is probably the most useful thing I’ve ever stumbled across on Pinterest. Seriously! Two of the kids (I won’t say which ones) actually cried this morning when they found the Elf Warning instead of Fred. Don’t get me wrong…I don’t like making my kids cry, but I’ll take any help I can get in keeping them in line."

Then there's this:

"This will always fix the problem."

And finally, one that is making the rounds today. In fact, it's been shared more than 40,000 times TONIGHT.

First, one of my friends pointed out that "Grinch" and "bench" don't technically rhyme. :)

The list goes on and on. I could post lots more, but you get the idea.

WHAT THE HELL, PARENTS?

Seriously? What kind of people are you?

Why is this not at all funny and actually wrong? Oh, my lord, there are reasons upon reasons. Let's just start wherever:

1) It's cowardly. You are your kids' parent. There is no outside third party monitoring you get to shrug and blame when their annoying actions have fabricated (and cruel) "consequences." No, the sadness they feel about losing a present is not a reasonable and logical consequence to whatever they did to piss you off, even if it was really really bad. YOU are the parent. Tackle the behaviors together. "Running in the house"? SERIOUSLY? You will threaten losing presents because an energetic kid moves too fast for your taste? You are the one with a problem.

2) It teaches all of the wrong lessons.

a) "Be good because someone is watching you." Also known as: If you're going to be naughty, do it way hidden so you might not get caught and then get in trouble. Also known as: It's only really wrong if you get caught. In other words: The reason you want your kids to "behave" is not because they think they might get in trouble (in this case, losing Christmas presents). You want your kids to "behave" because they understand which actions aren't acceptable and why. "I know you want that, but I can't get it right now, and your whining seriously hurts my head and makes me tired. Can you please talk to me about it in a normal voice?" If they don't? Well, they're kids. Keep reminding them. You're the adult. Teach them the right reasons to do the right thing.

b) "This is Santa's function":

c) "Christmas is all about YOU and the presents YOU might or might not get." I've heard parents gripe about how self-centered their kids are, how entitled. Well, when the parent is the one making this whole season about how many presents their kids might receive, the parent is the one focusing the kids' attention on this. Which brings me to something this...

d) "The only gifts you get are the ones you earn." I direct you to the dictionary, which would indicate that a gift is "something bestowed or acquired without any particular effort by the recipient or without its being earned." If you earn something, it isn't a gift. It's a wage, or an incentive. (Right, department stores... there's no "free gift with purchase" there's "free incentive to purchase." We're not that naive, but I do like free stuff, so keep it up!) Some people like to teach their kids a version of "There's no such thing as a free lunch," but that's wrong. I've been given plenty of things I didn't earn in my life. So have you. If a carrot is dangled in front of you as a "present" but you can lose it if you're "bad enough," then it was never a present.

A present is given out of the joy and grace of the gift-giver, and ESPECIALLY Christians should understand and want to teach their kids this.

3) If your family is celebrating Christmas, religiously or secularly, don't you want your kids to have a sense of wonder and awe about the whole thing? Why turn it into another test they have to pass or else?

Actually, the Grinch himself said it:

If you want to be a lazy coward then use the threat to call the cops like you do the rest of the year. Don't ruin Christmas, too.

By the way, that was a joke. Don't do this to cops, either. Grow up and be a parent.

4) None of this shows any respect for kids at all. Are kids sometimes annoying? Yes. Do they do things that they're not supposed to? Of course. As their parents, it's our job to work WITH them to fix these things. not to threaten to ruin one of the biggest holidays of the year because in the days leading up to an arbitrary date on the calendar, we didn't like how they were being. Think about it! It's a busy time of year, the school semester is closing out, there are parties and lots of things going on... They might be even more "lively" than usual. Plan for it. Prepare for it emotionally. Be there to help, not to reflect your own irritation back onto them. They pick up on that, too, and it makes things worse.

Can you imagine getting up Christmas morning and having your significant other tell you, "I had bought you that coat you loved but thought was too expensive. However, the last two times the trash collection has come, you haven't taken the garbage out in time, and so I did it myself and returned the coat." You'd be so angry!

You might argue that you're not a kid, but I'd argue that no one deserves to be "pwned" that way. No one deserves to be manipulated into compliance. We don't learn to serve in genuine grace through coercion or fear; it has to be a choice made out of relationship or self-discipline. And littles don't have much self-discipline, so your relationship with them is the strongest tool you have. Treating them like the enemy destroys that, even if they don't know you're doing it. YOU know, and it trains you to think of them as the enemy... a force to be contained and avoided.

5) It robs the parent of experiencing joy and wonder through their kids' eyes, since they're busy strategizing ways to maximize the power of the holiday. Gross, people. Just stop.

I could think of more reasons, but I've been clacking away for almost an hour and have been fortunate that my baby has slept through this so far. I'm not pushing my luck any further.

Will you do me a favor? Please don't use this season of goodwill as a whip to beat your kids into shape. Either take it or leave it, but if you take it, strategize ways to maximize the memories and traditions that will be the foundation of your kids' memories. You will never regret it.

Signs of the time and other firsts

After nearly 15 months, Mal is finally getting that signs can be used to communicate!

His first regularly-used sign was "more." I mean, he uses that appropriately for "more," but also for "help" or "get me some of that." Anyway, when you ask, "Do you want more?" he'll sign if he does.

About a week later, he started signing "all done" or "finished." This one he uses regularly but less frequently.

A third sign he uses multiple times daily is "diaper." It's the funniest thing: When he's pooped, he will sign "diaper." So I'll ask, "Do we need to change your diaper?" Then he never wants to. He HATES diaper changes. But it's almost like he has a compulsion to tell me, now that he can, when his "diaper" is dirty.

Sometimes he does like to role-play diaper changing. He'll pull out the pad and sit on it. Real changes he hates.

Yesterday we had an important first: While Mal was home AND awake, I took a full-length (read: I didn't rush) shower while James played with Mal. Not once did that child wander off to see where I was and what I was doing, much less did he stand at the tub and cry until I got out. It was so super freeing. Hoping that thing lasts!

Then today, well, it was a good morning. I've been making cookies for... it seems like ever. Mal has started "helping" me in the kitchen. He climbs up on the two-step ladder and watches. He tries to "help" by sticking measuring cups into the mixer (while it's running), and taste-testing dough throughout the process. There is a lot of my having to move things (all of the small appliances are unplugged because he plays with the knobs, and between the Griddler and James' grandma's ancient toaster oven, he'd burn this apartment down), and telling him, "Not now; it's too hot" or "That will hurt you" or "It's not good yet" or "It's not for us," but it's so much better than him running around at my legs crying. He's very interested and very keen to participate.

I was able to prepare and bake the genoise for my buche de Noel under his watchful eye, and also bake the cookies for our ReWork cookie exchange.

We have a pretty full (for us) schedule this weekend, but it's getting easier to tote Mal to multiple places and have him happily participate.

Oh, earlier this week, I read an article about how the "average" adult awakes between six and twenty times per night, whether they become fully conscious or not. So I decided to count how many times Mal woke up to nurse each night for a week. Sunday night, he woke up basically 8 times: twice before I went to sleep, 5 times between the hours of 10 PM and 6 AM, and then the time he woke up for the morning. That actually felt like a good night's sleep. Monday night, I lost track at 10, because sometimes he'd seem to doze off, then want to change sides and I wasn't sure whether that counted as one or two wake-ups because he had fallen to sleep a bit, but I hadn't. Anyway, it was at least 15. The next night, I just couldn't think, and then I gave up because I decided we're "normal" and the only difference is that I'm fully aware of wakening.

Every time we wake up, I kiss Mal and tell him I love him. I really do, too, and maybe I'll miss this when/if he outgrows it. I can't imagine that, but I just might.

Finally, Mal eats like a freaking champ. He takes after his sister that way. This week, he's eaten veggie pizza, spinach and artichoke-stuffed mushrooms, my own Malt-o-Meal concoction, tomato basil crackers with cheese, steak, enough blackberries to warrant a bath, enough cantaloupe that the day after I regretted it, and a ton of food in addition to his fruit/veggie pouches and snacks. He has recently gotten one molar, and that's probably helping him process solid food better. Also, he's gotten taller. He's grown over an inch since his birthday in September!

Review: Several dry shampoos; which is the best?

Here's the thing about my hair: I have to "fix" it. I wish I had the kind of hair I could just wash and walk out the door... and I do that on occasion. But I rarely feel "put together" in that case. Before the baby, I would heat-roll my hair every other day or so. Sometimes, I'd use big chunky rollers. Sometimes I'd use the old Benders. And on occasion, I'd use a very small ceramic wand for super ringlets.

Since Mal was born, I don't use a lot of heat on it as I shampoo at night and typically wrap my hair in a headband so it's not just stick straight. I mean, I wish it were sleek and stick straight, and I'd be happy. Instead, it's knotted log made of hay straight.

Regardless, my hair needs something. But it is also, due both to processing and apparently just to my biology, very dry. If I shampooed my hair every day, it'd be adding insult to injury. Unfortunately, my scalp isn't dry at all. It tends to get oily and make me feel very ookey if I go more than one day without washing it.

A few years ago, I bought my first dry shampoo. It was Not Your Mother's Clean Freak, and there was a learning curve.

I think I was holding it too close or spraying too long or something at first. I'd follow the directions and end up smelling great but looking like I was a teenager playing an old person in a play. You know... like I'd powdered my hair? Even if I waited a few minutes. Even after I'd brushed. I still had "hot" roots.

To remedy that, I tried this: Beyond the Zone's Rock On dry shampoo for "medium to dark hair."

It didn't leave my roots gray, but I also didn't fell like it absorbed as much of the oil.

By the way, that's basically the point of dry shampoos. I mean, besides fresh smell: It contains either alcohol or a starch that absorbs oil from your scalp, making your hair look and smell cleaner than without.

For myself, a person with fine hair, it also adds a little volume, which is nice, as one of the added effects of oily hair is that it plasters itself down on my skull.

My sister experimented at one time with using straight up talcum powder and cinnamon once, and I think she was pleased enough with it. I have enough trouble spraying, so I can't imagine trying trying to sprinkle powder evenly on my head. (Also, she said that the powder absorbed and basically disappeared, but at the end of the day she still had cinnamon in her hair.)

Finally, I'd heard that Dove has a dry shampoo. It's slightly less expensive that NYM and quite a bit less expensive than BTZ.

I'm pleased to announce that it's actually my favorite! And because it's so readily available, I can get it via Instacart when I'm buying groceries... err, someone else is buying me groceries. Oh, and I need to do a post on Instacart, while I'm at it. That'll be coming soon. :)

Bottom line: Dry shampoo is great for a day or two when you either can't or don't want to dry your hair out by (ironically) shampooing it. And Dove is the least expensive and my favorite. Just hold the can 6 inches from your head, use your free hand to pull your hair away from your head to get to your scalp around your hair line especially, and try to wait more than the two minutes recommended before you brush your hair out. But don't forget to brush it before you leave the house.

Picky Picky

This morning, I was awake for a while after an emergency 4:20 AM diaper change (for the baby, not me). I was thinking through something that happened the other day: Mal had his finger up his nose, which he is wont to do, and an older lady said something like, "Eww, don't to that. It's dirty," and moved like she was going to brush his hand away from his face, but then she didn't.

I was thinking, "Why is picking noses considered disgusting?" I mean, I get that picking a big juicy one and either passing it around for a gander or wiping it on the couch or under a chair is just rude, but here's my reality and Mal's, too...

I have allergies and often my sinuses are stuffed up. When this happens, I sometimes sniff a lot. People often ask me if I need a tissue to blow my nose, which I don't. The stuff isn't in my nose; it's up higher. Sniffing helps bring air in so it doesn't feel like it's dripping, which is a relief, but during those times, I can blow my nose and have absolutely nothing happen.

When my nose is stuffed up, it's, well, sorry to be gauche, but dry and crusty. Typically, it's only if I'm hot or sad that the mucous membranes in my nasal passages moisten enough that I can blow my nose and have it be productive. (The past month or two, though, every morning I've had to do this, which is rare and also allergies are super bad right now and I'm way over it.)

All of that to say: Very often (including in Mal's one year pictures), I can see that he has dried boogies in his nose. The Nosefrida doesn't help with this (in the rare event that I can get it lined up and suctioned before he flips his crud), and it will be a cold day in hell before Mal lets me squirt saline or breast milk up his nose to loosen that stuff up.

He's like me: when he gets hurt or upset, he'll cry and, man, is his face a mess then. But if he has a good day and doesn't dissolve in sobbing fits, what's he to do? I'd rather him pick those babies out himself and be able to breathe easier.

Yes, I'll work on things like "put it in a tissue, throw it away, and wash your hands." He's still growing. But even when he gets bigger, I'll tell him about the social stigma associated with nose-picking without making it a hygiene rule in our house. It just doesn't make sense to me.

Furthermore, a lung specialist in Austria (Bischinger) went even further than "picking your nose isn't too disgusting" and said this: "With the finger you can get to places you just can't reach with a handkerchief, keeping your nose far cleaner. And eating the dry remains of what you pull out is a great way of strengthening the body's immune system. Medically it makes great sense and is a perfectly natural thing to do. In terms of the immune system the nose is a filter in which a great deal of bacteria are collected, and when this mixture arrives in the intestines it works just like a medicine. Modern medicine is constantly trying to do the same thing through far more complicated methods. People who pick their nose and eat it get a natural boost to their immune system for free. I would recommend a new approach where children are encouraged to pick their nose. It is a completely natural response and medically a good idea as well. Children happily pick their noses, yet by the time they have become adults they have stopped under pressure from a society that has branded it disgusting and anti social." So.

Thoughts on Laura Ingraham's parenting story

I've decided that when I hear or read something that raises my hackles so that I feel like I have to address it or die, I'm going to do it here. And not share on social media. So if anyone cares and wants to read, they can. If not, I'm fine with that; I just need to get my ideas out of my head. I'll tag all of them with "response" if you want to click and read all of my "grrrr." I'm sure you don't. :)

I don't listen to talk radio, but the other day, Mal had been playing with the radio channels while we did time in the van waiting for him to be ready to get into his car seat. I was in the back seat and ended up listening to part of a call to the Laura Ingraham show. The caller was talking about how you have to love your kids, and in agreement, Laura told a story I'll paraphrase:

Last night, someone (husband? older kid?) had set up a tent city and my son wanted to sleep in it on the bean bag chair. The tent city is fine and all, but I told him "no" because I knew what would happen: He'd end up in my room at 1 AM, complaining about a crick in his neck. He was really upset, crying and going on and on about wanting to sleep on the bean bag, and I reminded him that Sunday is St. Nicholas Day, and he'd better straighten up if he wanted St. Nicholas to bring him something. Well, that got his attention. He calmed down, and I just gave him a hug and... whatever else she said.

Seriously? This is held up as a successful parenting moment? I have so many questions.

1) Why not? Seriously, why not? He'll wake you up at 1 and what? You can say, "I'm sorry your neck hurts. Let's get you to bed and situate the pillows to help him feel better. It takes, what, ten minutes away from your beauty sleep? Isn't it worth it for him to have an experience that will be different, and maybe he will even learn something?

2) If you're having to coerce your kid into behaving by making up some garbage story about how Santa isn't going to leave him something, what are you teaching him? Gifts are supposed to be free, no strings attached. You don't earn gifts or they'd be wages. Gifts are given from the good graces of the giver. This just makes St. Nicholas look like he's a disciplinarian in cahoots with the parents.

3) Anyway, your kid is disappointed. Can you let him work through that? Can you help him work through it? Maybe say, "I know it sounds like that'd be fun, but it's a school night and I think it's important that you get your best sleep tonight. Can we plan it for Friday night, when you don't have to be up early?" Something like that. And if you're not willing to do it at all, at least still let him voice his disappointment, and tell him genuinely that you're sorry.

Anyway, I think this is parenting at its laziest, frankly. Automatic no and using a third party as a henchman. Ugh. 

Divine Serendipity

Tuesday night, I had one of the best nights of sleep I've had in recent memory (read: a year). Mal woke up at least 4 times to nurse, but that's not as many as usual, and each time he just woke up, wanted milk, and went back to sleep.

Last night? Last night was very different. Mal got a little wound up at an event last night, and when it came time to go to sleep, he was ready, but there was some crying involved and there usually isn't (although there's always some aerobics involved).

Then, all night, he wanted to nurse. And not just nurse. He wanted to cry because he was on the "wrong" side, climb over me to get to the other side, not want to wait for me to readjust at all, and then get madder when, in trying to cover my cold self, I accidentally covered HIM with a blanket (which is just *not* done!), and he had to kick it off.

All. night. long.

I don't count because I don't want to go crazy, but let's just estimate that this happened 15 times. He'd wake up into a full stand a few times, too. I had to wrestle him back to bed before he lost his balance and fell over, hitting his head against the wall or window (I don't think he's fully awake when he does this).

I might have started grumbling and complaining at some point. You know, just to share the joy with my husband. I'm not proud of it, but there it is.

Then, at a bit before six, Mal had drunk so much that he soaked through is special night-time Pull-Up and I had to go change his diaper and his clothes. James got a towel to put over where he'd been lying, and I hoped against hope that Mal would go back to sleep.

It didn't look promising. Mal sat up, talked, climbed over me several times. In my exhaustion, I started thinking black thoughts like, "Why, in 14 months, has my husband never taken this child first thing in the morning so I can get some extra sleep?" (The reality of that probably lies somewhere between "He doesn't want/have to" and "Mal wouldn't let him, anyway.")

But, praises for small miracles, eventually Mal konked out lying on my shoulder. My arm went to sleep and my hand was freezing, but I did not dare move as I was able to doze on and off for another hour.

When we finally got up, I started the laundry. Sheets, blankets, mattress cover, etc. I managed to get James lunch (as it was, not much) but he had to find breakfast on the way to work. Mal and I did our usual morning stuff, but he was already getting tired and fussy. I ended up opening the 73-piece kitchen set we were going to give him for Christmas (what does he know about Christmas this year, anyway?) just so he'd have something new to distract him.

By 9 AM, I knew we had to get out of the house. Crepe Crazy has a new location on South Lamar grand opening today, so I thought we'd hit the gym for just a few, then go on to that. By the time I changed out the laundry, straightened Mal's room, and got everything together, we were ready to leave here at about 9:20, just in time to be at the gym when it opened at 9:30.

Mal was excited! We got down to the car, I opened the driver's side door and put him in (our back door doesn't open anymore, so we go through the front, just so you can stop worrying that I let him ride in the front), then clicked the "unlock" button. Nothing. Aww, crap.

Last night, I'd turned on the dome lights to keep Mal awake while we drove home from the gingerbread contest awards ceremony.

I don't know who won this category, but this was my favorite.

I'd turned my front lights off so I could drive in the dark, and just must not have noticed that they were still on. So our battery was dead.

I stood there thinking for a minute. There were guys coming to work on the apartment remodels, and I thought about asking one of them to help me jump start the van, but they were on the clock and I didn't want them to fall behind schedule.

Also, of course, though I usually back into my parking space, because I was in a hurry last night and wanting to get Mal upstairs to see his dad before he fell asleep, I had pulled straight into the parking space, which meant my battery was facing the forest. Fortunately, the parking space is sloped, so I could back out, but it'd be tight, since I'm parked perpendicular and barely behind the covered parking for our building.

After about five minutes, I decided to go ask our downstairs neighbor Reggie if she could give us a jump. We knocked on her door and she answered, groggy but happy to see us. Apparently, she has trouble sleeping and was napping. Oops. But she told us she'd be happy to help, and asked us to go chat with her mom while she got her keys and got ready (dressed).

I was glad we had the chance to talk to the mom, because she loves Mal and we haven't seen her in a while. She'd fallen at a beauty salon a couple of months ago and had to do rehab, but said she's doing a lot better. She's going in for some tests this afternoon to make sure she doesn't have cancer anymore.

While we were there, Mal managed to change the input for her TV before we got the remote from him, but fortunately her daughter knew that the input as supposed to be HDMI2 (I'd tried cable/antenna, video, HDMI 1, and figured... why would it be 2? But it was...)

When we got outside, Reggie pulled her car out so we wouldn't block her, and I tried to back out in neutral. Problem: I was right on the curb, and the tire was caught. I managed to push it back using one leg, but it only went back about 3 feet and stopped. This time, I did ask the contractors for help. It took three of them, but they got the car pushed back far enough for the cables to reach, but not for me to hit the car behind me (steering is sluggish and difficult when you have a big vehicle and power steering is out!).

As I went to get Reggie's hood open, she told me she'd never opened it herself before. It took me a few tries before I figured it out, but once I did, we got everything hooked up and it worked fine. She was concerned about my driving anywhere, but I stopped to get gas on the way (leaving the car running; trust me, it's fine) and by the time we got to Mal's gym, the car has been running 25 minutes, which was plenty to recharge the battery.

About the gym: I think I spend about half of my time there re-closing the bathroom doors (hurray for you parents with kids who *don't* play in toilets, but could you help a sister out?), about a third of my time there giving Mal snacks, and about a sixth of the time actually watching and helping him play in the gym.

Anyway, we ran by BK to use some coupons on the way home, and when we got here, Mal was ready for a nap. He wasn't quite asleep yet, which is just how I like it, when we started up the stairs... And Reggie came out of her apartment to ask me a favor. She wanted to know if I'd be willing to sit with her mom sometimes when she needs to run out to the store really quickly. I was so tickled! Ever since we started moving in, I have been wanting to do something for them besides just visiting (although that helps a lot, morale-wise).

If my battery hadn't been dead and I hadn't asked for a favor, she might not have felt comfortable asking for one in return. So, if that was the point of all of that, then I think it was incredible, and I thank God for it. It wasn't even that bad, anyway; just a little inconvenient. And now we get to do something nice for the ladies downstairs. Well-played, God.

Guys, I'm Tired

It seems like Mal was doing a growth-spurt thing this weekend, eating voraciously, and then nursing *a lot* at night. Like a lot a lot. Like I'm starting to want to wear undergarments all day and night because my girls are just tender and touchy and even if I accidentally brush up against the refrigerator door when I'm opening it, I want to yell at the door, "Leave me alone for three seconds!"

Now, he might be sick or he might be teething. Very easily upset, very demanding, very... booby. I was actually able to put him off the longest we've ever gone on Saturday: just over 4 hours! It would have been longer, but his gym was closed over the weekend for Thanksgiving, and so I ended up nursing him for a bit when we got home because he'd gone to sleep in the car and I wanted him to stay asleep when we got home. And the reason I was able to make it so long is that we went out to breakfast, then to the grocery store. At home, he's less easily distracted. I offer him water, food, a baby food pouch, or I say, "Just a minute. Let me go put my contacts in," etc. to see if he'll forget. This morning, there was no forgetting. I didn't even make it to 9 AM, and had already nursed him about 4 times before he fell asleep at 11ish. I'm not proud of it, but there it is.

Also, the more emotional Mal is (up or down), the more likely he is to bite. And nothing is worse than getting bit/hurt when your patience is already worn down and you're really, REALLY trying to be maternal and caring. A furious little bubble pops inside of my chest and I have to fight so hard not to yell at him. I'm not saying I don't say, "Do NOT bite Mommy" between clenched teeth, because I do. I'm just super ready for that phase to be over with. And it's also more than a bit humbling how hard it is to control my own temper sometimes.

It's funny... a lady in the cry room yesterday at church asked me how Mal was sleeping. She has a little girl probably about the same age, and then an older girl. She said the older girl has always had sleep issues, and they're trying to avoid it with the younger daughter; she thought maybe I'd figured out the secret. I just laughed. I think I've just gotten used to the sleep thing. I wish it were easier, but I don't fight it anymore. If I did, I'd have gone crazy. I'd be a lot more exhausted than I am. And I'm finding the actual bed-sharing part isn't as bad as I'd thought it might be. The waking up every hour or so I could do without but, again, we've kind of just gotten used to it. I've gotten really good at conking back out pretty quickly.

Mal is definitely growing and maturing. He understands things. I can ask him to do something and he might or might not do it, but he definitely understands what I'm asking, as long as it's about something familiar to him and I make it a simple request. Yesterday, he'd taken an eyeball from a book (don't ask) into the other room and had come back later. I asked him if he could go back and get the eyeball so I could put it where it belongs. He thought about it for a minute, and he did it!

-- Update from the next day: The rest of the day was more of the same, exhaustion-wise. Several bitings, lots of cryings. I try to have so many "yes" spaces in our house, but it seems like Mal gravitates to the "no" things, and now that he can climb, it's worse. I feel like I'm saying "No, get down; that's dangerous; you'll hurt yourself; I'm sorry you're mad, but..." about 80% of my waking time.

So, actually, stuff is probably developmentally appropriate, baby-wise. And it's tiring. That's just the nature of the beast. But I'm also a little tired... of... people. :\ This probably explains a lot about my post yesterday about how I don't have any friends.

Last week was Thanksgiving, and there was just so much disgruntled rumbling all over the place: Stores selling Christmas stuff "too early," people putting up their decorations "too early," stores being open on Thanksgiving, people being jerks going to those stores or waiting in lines for Black Friday sales. I don't get why people are so hacked off. Just celebrate the holiday the way YOU want to and don't worry about everyone else, maybe?

Then there's all of the tension about accepting Syrian refugees. The response from so many people has been so negative. I'm sorry, but I don't get it. Take a look at this photo essay. I realize there are adult male refugees and that people are concerned that they might have bought into ISIS, but I think that is statistically insignificant enough that we can extend a welcome, as our country is supposed to do, what with the huddled masses yearning to be free and all. The rhetoric going on around this has been demoralizing to the max. I hurt for the refugees and I hurt that people can harden their hearts against people who are desperately in need of asylum because they're scared for themselves. I don't know. Maybe I'd feel differently if threatened. I hope not.

And tons of people are posting, like recently, within the last week, about the evils of screens. This, to me, is like my fighting my son to sleep "better." It is what it is, so chill out and if you want to change your own habits, go for it. But most of the stuff being published is alarmist and without foundation. For instance, one recent post included the fact that ADHD diagnoses have increased since the introduction of computers/smart phones/tablets, etc. into our home. But correlation does not equal causation! You know what else has happened during that same time? School days have gotten longer. Kids are not going to recess or art class or music class in a lot of schools. They are involved in activity after activity when they're not in school. Run here, run there, do your homework at the gym while your sister practices. And then we blame computers when they can't concentrate on something?

Not to mention the fact that we expect children to act like adults more and more and when they don't, we "diagnose" them and often dose them.

I'm not buying at all that this is the fault of computers or tablets or smart phones. Have those things changed our lives? Definitely. For the worse? I seriously doubt it.

I was going to go off on another tangent, but I won't. I'll just say that there have been things like televisions and fish tanks and magazines in waiting rooms for a long time to give people something to do and to look at that is NOT the person sitting across from them. So people on their phones in situations like that don't bother me. Actually, a family at dinner all on their phones doesn't bother me. If that's how they want to enjoy their meal, who cares? It's not my business. Let them do it.

I had to stop writing this yesterday because my sweetheart woke up and life started up again. But in thinking it over the rest of the afternoon, I realized what I have to do: I have to use Facebook like I use email: to communicate efficiently with people when necessary, and "delete" everything else. Since I can't do that literally, I'm deciding to stop reading my news feed at all. I'll go in and check on my family and some friends, of course, but I'm just going to have to stop reading the rest. I know I can hide people, but the time it would take me to hide everyone... I just don't want to. I'm just going to stop. I have to, for my mental health.

I compare it to this: I had a dear friend I loved immensely who just had a negative outlook on life. He could stuff it for a while, but the closer we got, the more constant the stream was: Everyone hated him, including God. Everything was out to get him. People were all jerks and losers and screwing him out of the happy life he deserved. In the end, I told him that I couldn't be his friend anymore because I didn't share his gloom and doom view of the universe, and I couldn't stand to be poured into by that train of thought anymore.

Honestly, this has been brewing since the Marriage Equality Act passed several months ago. I was just crushed and disheartened by the response of so many people... or the articles and blogs to which they were linking.

I should have stopped then, honestly. And if I've replied rather aggressively to a post you've made in the past two or three weeks, I'm sincerely sorry. It got to the point that I couldn't take it anymore and I accidentally slipped into this:

It's eating up too much of my emotional and mental energy, and I really need that for my family. And for you, when I see you in person. So, again, I apologize.

I wish, I really do, that Facebook still allowed you to choose "only important updates" to see from people. I love the pictures of your life, your kids, your dogs, your food, and to know what movie you just enjoyed. But I can't read any more about how someone in Obama's cabinet is a known Muslim trying to convert America to Islam. Friends, I just can't.

So thanks for being patient with me (internet-wise, and in person... because it's seriously difficult to find words when I'm talking to a face because of the toddler thing), and thanks for reading and being my friend even when I'm disgruntled about people being so dang disgruntled. I need to focus on positive things. I WANT to focus on positive things. Onward and upward, then...