I found her vaccine “camps” to be an interesting springboard for discussion.  I will say (and I’m sure she’d agree) that dividing us all into three camps is probably oversimplifying things a bit.  But if we didn’t do that, we’d have yet another book on the subject on our hands, wouldn’t we?

I started my Mommahood in camp #1.  I’m perfectly willing to admit that I was there because I knew absolutely nothing about vaccines beyond that they were “good” and “what’s best” and that I’d had all of mine growing up (which I believe, to date, possibly as little as half of what they are giving kids now).  That said, I am one of those really annoying parents that ask lots of questions of doctors, especially when it comes to my kids.  So when the nurse came in to vaccinate my hours old infant my first question was “Why?  You want to vaccinate my 16hrs old baby girl for a disease that is transmitted via sex or needle sharing?!  WHY?  I was given a pamphlet much like the ones I’ve seen in peds offices since.  It can be summed up as this: “Vaccines are safe.  They save lives.  They have eradicated diseases and are Safe. Safe, Safey Safe safe.  Don’t worry, we know what we are talking about, vaccinate your children.  Hep B sucks a lot so vaccinate the baby.  The End.”

I know, I know, I’m exaggerating a bit but the sad truth is that uh, not really.  Throw in a few “The CDC’s” and “AAP’s” and it gave the impression of being very official and making me feel like I’d done my job becoming informed before making a decision.    The impression I got from the nursing staff was that asking such a question was just silly and that All Good Mothers Sign The Form.  So I signed it and allowed my oldest daughter to be vaccinated against my gut instinct because I thought it was the right thing to do.

A few weeks later a well meaning friend of mine sent me a few links about vaccines and asked me if I’d ever heard some of the stuff she was reading.  In short: no, I certainly had not.  Some of it was downright alarmist but some of it was reeeaaaallly interesting.  Out of curiosity, I kept researching on my own…for months.  I only allowed my daughter to complete her Hep series and get a pneumococal before I told my ped we were stopping until I’d learned more.  Why did I do that? Because the most stunning piece of information that I had learned at that point was that I knew nothing about vaccines…and neither did my kid’s doctor.  His only defense of them to me, aside from telling me three times in one conversation that “They’re important!” was that if they weren’t safe, they wouldn’t be recommended.  I asked him if he was aware of the overwhelming body of literature confirming the fact that fluoride causes cancer.  He said that he was.  I asked him if he still drank his tap water and saw his dentist regularly for fluoride treatments.  He *blushed* and told me he saw my point.  Upon asking him for information about what was in the vaccines and how they protected my infant daughter he admitted to me that he didn’t really know that any more than he knew the process for producing antibiotics!  He pointed out that he was a pediatrician, not a pharmacist.  He had a basic idea of what vaccines were about but that the only thing he could say for certain was that he was convinced they were relatively safe and that they made the world safer for the people that lived in it.  Beings as he was from Pakistan, I made a mental note of his perspective.  After all, I can’t ignore the fact that industrialized nations tend to fare better against diseases and vaccines are considered to have played a major role in that.

Over the years I’ve done a lot of reading.  I spent weeks painstakingly reading through various resources and got so frustrated with the extreme bias on either side of the fence that I gave up, went the manufacturers websites and started reading the published inserts.  I read through how vaccines were made, exactly what was in them and the testing procedures they went through before being marketed to the public.  I think I spent more time looking up technical and pharmaceutical terminology than anything else.   Actually looking up the various chemical names and whatnot in the ingredients list is very eye-opening.

I went from being in camp #1 to firmly in camp #2/3.  Dh was in camp #3 for a long time.  Part of our reasoning was that after all the research we’d done, we knew there were a lot of unanswered questions.  The fact is that some of the very serious questions most of us have about vaccines don’t have any answers, yet.  And neither one of us felt that our kids, who were not in daycare or school at the time AND were fully breastfed, were exposed to enough diseases to warrant us risking a decision based on a lack of pertinent information.

Vaccines are an amazing idea.  The hope that we have reached a point in understanding how the human body fights disease so well that we can give it a boost and protect ourselves and our children is something most parents are excited to grasp on to.  I know I certainly am!  However, I’ve done and continue to do a lot of reading on the subject and I still have a lot of concerns.

Vaccine reactions, for example, are a reality.  They are such a reality that the government has a fund set aside to compensate families who can prove that their dead or permanently injured children are a direct result of having been vaccinated.  That’s a scary thought.  This isn’t some extreme concern from ignorant parents, this is a government recognized problem.  It’s under-reported and hard to get “proof” but it’s not a secret- it’s a reality.  The really concerning thing, though, is that in so many cases, we don’t know *why* these children are having such devastating reactions!  True, out of all the human beings vaccinated throughout the world, a relative few will have these devastating reactions but for those who do, the implications are life long, if they survive them!  The other disturbing truth is that even “officials” suggest that the reactions are under-reported and poorly recognized.  This means that improvements on the vaccines and understanding that might help eliminate this problem will be a long time coming.

The most significant question that landed us so firmly outside of camp #1, though, was the complete lack of information regarding the long term effects on our immune system.  I have found there to be a concerning correlation between vaccine introduction (and addition of more and more vaccines to the schedule) and the rise in recognized auto immune disorders.  I’m not a doctor or a researcher, so please don’t take what I’m saying as gospel, but I assure you I’m not the first person to wonder about this and there are articles out there asking questions about it.  Vaccines would not be the first big OOPS coming from the medical community and I am not out for blood.  Medical researches are trying to help us and I believe it is our responsibility as parents and consumers to keep asking these questions and to use our common sense when utilizing what modern medicine has to offer us.  I know six different women with MS.  Four of them are my age.  That doesn’t take into account the people I know with other A.I.D’s, just MS.  This is purely anecdotal, and I know that, but when I ask around I find that I’m not alone in this.  I have to wonder if there is a connection!  There is no way for me to know right now, though, is there?  My point is that when even members of the medical community are asking about this, it’s not outrageous or ignorant to question it myself.

Vaccines contain a lot of things that in any other context would be considered poison.  I’m not talking about mercury.  It’s true that many vaccines contain a mercury derivative, but after the outcry against it, MOST do not.  Even so, there were never any studies that directly linked thermerosal to devastating effects.  The concern was that it was so similar to the mercury that we KNEW was horribly dangerous that it was reasonable to question it’s use.  However, my concerns lie in other ingredients.  The use of aluminum, for example, a metal that has been linked more than once to the Alzheimer’s.  

People have often questioned the ethics of being in these camps.  The herd immunity argument comes up a lot and I’ll touch it, if briefly.  ”Herd Immunity” is a bunch of crap.  It’s a marketing gimmick, guys.  This is easily verified when you consider that ALL vaccines are 50-90% effective, approximately, and not even the manufacturing companies will tell you different.  They know perfectly well that sometimes they seem to provide immunity and sometimes they don’t. Nobody knows why or who is going to be “fully protected” and who isn’t and there is NO way to prove it anyway as currently, there are absolutely NO studies being done that prove their effectiveness!  The bottom line is that if you’v been vaccinated for, say, the measles, and you’ve never gotten the measles, the assumption is that the vaccine worked.  If you’ve never been vaccinated against the measles and you don’t get it the assumption is that herd immunity worked for you.  If you’re unlucky enough to have been vaccinated and still get the measles, the assumption is that some jerk didn’t get vaccinated and you ended up with it despite the miracle vaccine.  Nobody is monitored for vaccine effectiveness and no long term studies exist to look at the effectiveness of these vaccines.

The problem is that if the vaccine was 100% effective than those who were vaccinated wouldn’t get sick even if exposed to a non-vaccinated, infected person.  Herd immunity would ONLY be a valid argument IF vaccines were 100% effective.  I’m not criticizing people getting them, understand, what I’m saying is that arguing with mothers like me for being ignorant and knowingly putting other people’s children at risk is simply demonstrating a lack of knowledge about what vaccines actually are and how they currently work.  Well, that and I do vaccinate, just much later than most people.  Morgan didn’t start until she was in school and Abby as well (well, we’re getting her ready for school).  Ethan will not start until he’s approaching school-age, either.

What are your thoughts? I’m interested!

My job is hard and it’s never “complete”. Ever. The dishes are never really done, the laundry is never really caught up and if one room is clean that is only because a different one is in the process of becoming a disaster area. I still love my job, though. Despite the bitching I do (and I do a lot of it) at the end of the day, I wouldn’t trade this job for another.

I had a moment this morning when my son was just being SUPER cranky and so I just stopped what I was doing and sat with him for a while on the couch. He laid across my chest while watching TV with his sister and I just played with his hair and rubbed his back. He must’ve liked that because he rolled over and just looked at me. We sat like that for a good ten minutes just looking at each other, being close. It was pure magic- a moment forever stolen from Time.

Magic Moments are some of the most positive, affirming, validating things about being a Mom. If it weren’t for those amazing little moments of clarity, I’m not sure the human race would have survived the whole parenting aspect of our evolution. The fact is that as human beings we all need to deeply connect with someone from time to time. The awesome thing about children is that they just instinctively try to get what they need. They don’t have social restrictions or reservations about just bonding. My son just wanted to really BE with me and to totally be immersed in that moment. It wasn’t a long moment, after a few minutes he blinked, rolled over and began poking his sister and giggling. It was long enough, though. I love how children can do that without even really consciously meaning to: Grab life by the horns, stop everything and just soak up love and comfort. I love that my job is to stop everything and facilitate their need to connect.

Yup, best job ever. I don’t have to get dressed unless I want to, I can accomplish my goals according to my own criteria (ok, not really but sometimes my kids let me think so) and Magic Moments pop up unexpectedly on a regular basis. What’s not to love?

I don’t even want to say things like “My heart breaks for these people” etc because the truth is that it’s too horrible for my brain to even process. Watching this, though, helped bring home to me what the Japanese people affected by this tragedy were/are dealing with.

Nearly every adult I know has either just gotten over the crud or is currently having the crud. And my children? I swear to Lord Henry Fuddlemutz, they are actively trying to cause me to have a mental breakdown.

Yesterday and today have been non-stop kid-caused crisis after another. Maybe it’s the weather? It’s really starting to get pretty. It’s still a bit wet and chilly but the sun is out and the breeze is lovely. Perhaps it’s mild cabin fever? If so I’m tempted to stake all three of them out back on leashes…..

IF IF IF all goes well, we’re set to close on our house on Tuesday of next week.  Please let everything go well.  Pretty please?  I’m afraid to pack.  Seriously, what if I jinx it?

I want to mooooove.  I want my own home!  I want to rediscover MY things that have been in boxes for two years!  Mostly, I just want my own space so I don’t have to stress, every moment of every day, about who is going to piss off the Krazy next.  I want to tell my kids “Please don’t do that” and not have the reason be “because Grammy will get mad and I’ll develop an ulcer”.    Maybe I already have one?

I am so stressed out right now that my brain is fried.  So I’m not going to torture my readers with a boring post.  Good night, ya’ll!

I had an intense therapy session yesterday and I’ve been a little on edge ever since then.

Today was just a long day because I haven’t been feeling well and seriously, if my ears don’t de-clog soon I’m going to end up sticking a knitting needle in my ear!!!! K, prolly not but I really want it to just STOP. Arrgghh!

Then, my oldest daughter *crossed. the. line* this evening. I did not slap the attitude right out of her. I didn’t *touch* her. I sent her to bed early and put the other two down right afterwards. It’s 8pm and all my kids are in bed and that is where the little buggers will stay.

I have rums. I have cokes. I’m in bed. And that is where *I* will be staying until tomorrow morning. Harumph!

Plz forgive all typo’s and spelling errors as I just can’t be bothered with editing tonight. The blog gods may smite me, it’s all good.

I want my husband to know that I’ve got his back and that I respect him. I want him to know that I am 100% devoted to being his partner in everything. That I support him fully. That I love him unconditionally and with all of my heart and soul. I want him to know that he can tell me anything, trust me implicitly and that I am always here for him.

I want my family to know that they are important, that they are worth taking care of and that their needs matter. I feel that the best way to make all of these things happen is to model it in my own life.

When I decided to start seeing a therapist, I did so for several reasons but my biggest reason was for the sake of my family. It’s not that I’m not important it’s just that I’m a wife and a mother; my greatest motivations are always going to be my husband and my children. I knew that I was making life harder for my husband and that I was setting a bad example for my children on several levels.

I was/am struggling with oppressive depression. The last several years have been very difficult for all of us and of course, I have years of baggage I’ve been lugging around with me, too. I got to a point where I woke up more days than not already in tears and spent my days going back and forth between silently crying and shouting. I became so sensitive that every wayward look hurt my feelings, every tone of irritation upset me. I couldn’t function. I was barely holding it together. I couldn’t sleep. I had nightmares. I was averaging somewhere between 2-4hrs of sleep a night and that was broken at best. Plans falling apart destroyed me. Snippy comments from my MIL left me literally shaking with anger or in tears. The only reason I left the house is that I couldn’t get out of doing laundry or grocery shopping and I desperately wanted to be “normal” in front of my friends.

After my first two visits with my therapist he suggested that I was suffering from barely contained rage and possibly depression. While in the moment my feelings were hurt by his assertion, I came to realize shortly thereafter that he was right. Admitting that I was dealing with rage wasn’t invalidating my feelings, it was just stating the obvious. Asking for help dealing with it wasn’t the same as saying that my feelings were unjustified and that is what I was afraid of. My therapist has said over and over again something that I really needed to hear: Anyone would be dealing with rage if they had been raised as you were and dealing with what you are now. Validation for me has been key to being able to learn to cope. Why? Because I was afraid that I was making mountains out of mole-hills. That I was overreacting or that it was all in my head. I was afraid that admitting that I was completely loosing it was an admission that I couldn’t handle my life. That I was a complete failure as a mother and wife.

He spent over a month getting a feel for me before suggesting I consider medication to help with the depression. I struggled with the decision but realized one day, while my children were bouncing off the walls and all I could think about was LEAVING, that I needed to do something proactive. I took the meds. I’m SO glad I did.

Taking anti-depressants has not changed my situation. It hasn’t changed anything about my life, my past or how I feel about those things. There is no magic pill that can fix those things, that is up to us. What it has done is help me sleep, given me some energy and calm down whatever it was inside me that had those feelings running my life. Now, when I wake up in the morning, everything is the same as it was 6 wks ago. My life is still chaotic, my children are still very loud, my husband is still grumpy, my MIL is still crazy and there are so many things that cause us stress. But I don’t feel like panicking or jumping out a window and running away. I still get frustrated, hurt, sad, all the normal things. But I can deal with my banshee 3yo without screaming at her. I can react to my husband’s curt shortness in the mornings without feeling devastated or assuming he doesn’t care. I am not exhausted every. single. morning before the day has even started. I do not want to crawl out of my own skin every time my son cries. I can reflect upon my own actions without wanting to give up, bury myself in a hole in ground and stay there.

I have been doing a lot of the latter. I desperately want to be a great mother. I want to give my children the best leg up in life that I can. I want to be the best wife for my husband. I want our family to be a healthy, happy one. I’m not saying that all of my family’s happiness depends upon me. What I am saying is that I cannot support and uplift my family if I’m not taking care of myself. I have learned this the hard way.

We wives and moms tend to be the center of our families. If Mom is having a bad day, everyone suffers for it. When Mom is having a bad life, nobody is happy and everyone is stressed. This Mom needed help. I’ve come to understand that this is ok. I’m not a bad mother, I’m not a bad wife, I’m not a failure at life. I just needed help.

I’m sharing because I know I’m not alone. I know that I am not the only woman who has felt like they are drowning in their children, in their families. I know I’m not the only wife who has to force herself out of bed every morning and barely holds it together until bedtime. I know this. It is OK. I don’t think we were meant to live our lives like super-heroes. Needing help is perfectly acceptable. We can’t do it alone! Admitting that you’re angry, hurt, frustrated, lonely, going nuts- it’s not invalidation. It’s not an admission of guilt or failure. It’s just an observation and it’s ok to need someone to talk to. I avoided therapy for a long time because I truly felt like taking that time out of my life and using the resources needed to get there was selfish. That I would just have been taking from everyone around me while admitting I was a failure.

It isn’t true. Yes, I need help to get to therapy as I don’t have a car AND I need a babysitter. Not only that but it takes precious time away from my family at times that are, admittedly, inconvenient. But the truth is? The truth is that I am worth it. My family deserves a mother and a wife that isn’t falling apart. I deserve to look in the mirror and not want to smash it.

Is this you? Do you put off caring for yourself out of fear of being a failure? Of being selfish? You are not alone. You are not a failure. You are an integral, paramount part of your family and your community and even if you don’t have a family you are STILL important enough to get the help you need. YOU MATTER.

I have come to realize that I am not less important than my husband or my children. We are all important and all of us, including me, need to be cared for and nurtured.

In conclusion, take care of yourselves, even if it means getting help to cope. Being strong enough to recognize that you need help is not weakness in disguise. Taking the time to care for yourself isn’t selfish. On the contrary, it’s setting a wonderful example to your family. When we take care of ourselves, we give them permission to do the same for themselves and we teach them that they are not the only people with needs. There is nothing but positivity by setting this example.

Love and Laughter to all of you!

The other pledge I’m making is to try to have one post a day, starting with this one, for the month of November. This is not much of a challenge for some people but it is for me, as I’m sure any of my regular reads know!

Anyone who wishes to join me in my quest of posting once a day throughout the month of November, please feel free to comment to my daily post with a link for yours. I promise I will read them and comment!

The other thing is that I’m pretty sure my children have some kind of silent agreement to work in cohorts with one another to drive me insane before I’m 30. It’s working, can I just say that?

Morgan has a major attitude problem lately. Everything is a fight, an argument or a huge event worth of epic drama. She is still the sweet, tenderhearted little girl she always has been…she just has vicious little teeth, now, too.

Abigail, I think, feels like she’s not heard. Often times, this is totally not true, but sometimes it is so of course she reacts to this by screaming EVERYTHING she thinks needs to be repeated for any reason, whatsoever. If, for example, I am talking to say, Tony, and she wants to say something, she’ll come up and interrupt and immediately start shrieking if we don’t immediately stop everything and turn our attention to her. Interestingly, she is FAR more jealous of Morgan’s attention than my own or her father’s so the person she’s most likely screeching at in any given moment is Morgan.

Then there is Ethan. 90% of the time he’s a happy, robust little fellow with a jolly smile on his face. The other 10% of the time (which, out of his entire life has encompassed the last week or two) he’s a total little bear. He has learned to screech and he does this most often when Abby is doing it (he thinks it’s HIGHLARIOUS to screech at her when she’s freaking out) or when he’s really pissed off about something (as in, no, Baby, you cannot eat a crayon). He’s taken to throwing massive fits whenever the front door open and closes without him being allowed out and he’s not much different with the refrigerator door.

If they would all pick their own times to freak out, with at least 20min breaks in between, we’d be ok. Unfortunately that just isn’t how children operate. Oh hell no, where is the fun in that?! Nope. Instead what ends up happening is that there is a general sense of insanity in here at all times.

The other problem is that any time I try to sit down and do something that isn’t directly related to caring for them they will NOT leave me the fuck alone. It’s taken me an HOUR to write this entry because someone is constantly screaming for my attention. Mommy? Mom? Mommy? Mom? Waaaaaahhhhh?

At least the little punks are cute, sweet and funny. A couple of days ago I told Morgan she had better stop pushing my buttons or else she’d be grounded to the house until Friday. Abigail came into the room we were in and said,

“But Mommy? You don’t have any buttons!”

I wuv you guys!