Reading Babies??? Update – Your Baby Can’t Really Read

26 Jul 2012 Leave a comment

by Natalie in Parenting Battles, What's a mom to do? Tags: , , ,

Photo of Braxton Hill taken by Angie Hill.

Apparently I am not the only one who was skeptical of the hypnotic, overplayed annoyingly distracting commercials for a company touting the ability to teach a baby to read.

Last week the Today show ran a story on the “Your baby can read” company. A company that claimed its product could teach a baby to read using repetition, flashcards and DVDs.

Jeff Rossen, a Today Show correspondent, did a story on the company in 2010. He talked to experts from Harvard, Tufts and NYU about the company’s product and they all said the same thing – the babies using the program were not in fact learning to read, but were simply memorizing images of words on flashcards.

Not only did the experts say that the company was “misleading” parents, but that the product could potentially harm the babies by exposing them to too much television.

Last week the Today show updated the public on the story, stating that “Your Baby Can Read” is now out of business.

I am sorry if you were sucked in and purchased the program thinking your child would end up stepping into kindergarten ahead of the curve. Heaven knows my boys begged me on a number of occasions to order the program. Commercials for the product regularly interrupted their favorite cartoon shows.

Thankfully I didn’t see any value in teaching my toddler to read. Like I said in my previous blog post about the product, I want my children to succeed, to be smart and capable, but I also think there is a time and a season to all things.

And we all know how much I love my children watching TV. I wasn’t about to buy something that encouraged my tiny kids to stare at the boob tube for hours on end.

If you click on the “Your Baby Can Read” website you will find an open letter from the company to its loyal customers. Here’s part of what it says:

“Regretfully, the cost of fighting recent legal issues has left us with no option but to cease business operations. While we deny any wrongdoing, and strongly believe in our products, the fight has drained our resources to the point where we can no longer continue operating.”

I was glad that someone did some research on the program and was able to shed some light on its effectiveness. And I still stick to my original blog post’s question:
Why on earth would you teach your 18-month-old baby to read? You don’t teach someone to run before they can walk, so why teach someone to read before they can talk?

Check out the Your Baby Can Read website here:
http://www.yourbabycanread.com/

Watch the recent Today Show story on the company here:
http://www.tv.com/shows/the-today-show/watch/your-baby-can-read-company-out-of-business-2512611/

Say What? Stupid things you shouldn’t tell a grieving parent

19 Jul 2012 9 Comments

by Natalie in Dealing with Death Tags: , , , ,

I took dinner to a friend recently whose husband died suddenly. When I got there, I said something I never should have.

The whole way there I kept telling myself, “Don’t say it. Don’t say it.”  But the first three words that blurted out of my mouth when she opened the door to let me in were, “How are you?”

“How are you?” She just lost her husband, the father to her five children. I am sure she didn’t want to answer that question – even if she had an answer.

I felt like chucking the food tray up the stairs to her kitchen then running back to my car and driving off in shame. I was horrified, mortified.

I promised myself after Luca died that I wouldn’t ask anyone that question. It is one of the absolute worst things to say to someone who is mourning.

Yet I blurted it out to a friend robotically, without even thinking.

Unfortunately, our American society uses those three insincere words as a basic greeting. We all say it – all the time. But how often do we mean it? Do we really care how one another feels? Do we stop and let them respond?

Obviously I am guilty of speaking before thinking, but my most recent experience got me thinking about other stupid things we say.

I’ll never forget walking into the mortuary with a tiny white tuxedo to dress my lifeless little boy just four days after I had delivered him. A mortuary worker opened the door for my husband and I, saw the suit and said, “That’s a nice outfit, where is the baby?” All we could say was, “I hope you guys have him.”

Seriously? I don’t know how someone who works at a mortuary could have said something so stupid.

But we all make mistakes.

I’ve compiled a short list of phrases I hated to hear after Luca died. There are more, but these are the most common, ridiculous ones. Hopefully if I can focus really hard, I will avoid saying them to others who are grieving.

“He’s in a better place” – Really? Now I know it’s been at least 28 years since I was last in heaven, and it probably still is a pretty nice place, but is my home all that bad? Would living with me be the worst thing that would have happened to him?

“I know how you feel” – I have met several women who have had stillborn babies and although their stories are very similar to mine, I still have NO idea how they feel, nor do they know how I feel about my loss. So how can I expect someone who has never given birth to, then buried their deceased baby, to “know” how I feel? I think we say this way too often. We may have good intentions in trying to understand how others feel, and we may be able to relate, but we will never know how each other feels.

“I just keep thinking about all the missed opportunities you are going to have” – Thanks. I hadn’t actually thought about the life span of my deceased infant and all of the major life events I am going to miss out on. I needed the reminder that I won’t get to see him take his first steps, play his first t-ball game, walk into kindergarten for the first time, etc.

“I had a friend whose baby almost died…” – ALMOST died? I don’t even want to hear about it. For some reason there are a lot of people who when they hear about my experience, feel the need to relate by telling me of someone they know who almost had a baby die. I don’t want to hear about your acquaintance’s miracle baby. I don’t want to know how they too had a baby’s whose cord was knotted. I don’t care how awesome it was that their child is still alive. It makes me too bitter.

“At least you didn’t really know them.” – Right. I think not knowing them adds to my heartache. At what age would you chose for your child to die? None? That’s what I thought.

“Aren’t you going to hurry and have another one?” In case you didn’t notice, I just endured a 9-month pregnancy then delivery. I should probably pay off my hospital bills and let my body heal before working on having another baby. And who knows when my heart will feel ready to try again.

“At least he is safe from harm. Now you won’t have to worry about him as a teenager” – As crazy as it may sound, I would have loved to have worried about him as a teenager.

“You’ll get to raise them someday” – Now this one I honestly believe and I am completely looking forward to, but I still don’t like to hear it. I wanted to raise my son NOW. While he could play and wrestle with his brothers. While we were all in the same home. It’s hard to remember eternity with empty, aching arms.

Nothing. – As scary and uncomfortable as it may be to speak to someone who has recently lost a loved one, I think avoiding the death and pretending it never happened may be worse. It becomes a giant elephant in the room, threatening to stampede at times. If you can’t think of anything, “I’m so sorry,” is a good place to start.

Living With My Rainbow

12 Jul 2012 7 Comments

by Natalie in Dealing with Death, Pregnant After a Loss

Sometimes after a dark, cold storm, when the rain is done chilling you to the bone, when the wind is done taking your breath away, when the clouds disperse and the sky reappears, a burst of light shines from the heavens and colors bow over the earth.

And although you still feel dampness in the air, the rainbow’s color fills you with light and hope.

Last week I caught the first glimpse of my rainbow. After 9 very long months, my rainbow baby boy was born July 3. And he is beautiful.

The past couple of years have been filled with storms for my family and me. The rains started pouring April 22, 2010 when I delivered my third son stillborn.

At times during the past 2 years I have felt like a hurricane has swarmed around my house, like I was drowning in my trials. And no matter what I did I couldn’t shake the storm.

But now I feel like I am basking in the sunlight. For some reason, things have taken a turn for the better for me.

Some of you who have read my blog in the past know that it was difficult for me to get pregnant this time around. And still after a year of trying I was not only thrilled, but terrified that a new life was inside me.

This pregnancy was probably my easiest one physically. Aside from the usual heartburn and joint pain, I was actually quite comfortable.

But mentally I thought I was going to go crazy – especially the last month. I don’t know how many times a day I would do the 10-movements-in-2-hours kick count. I knew that if something went wrong, I would be the first to know and that stressed me right out.

At my 37-week appointment my doctor said he would be willing to induce my labor early, as long as my body was ready. I keep praying it would be ready. At 38 weeks I was dilated to a 1 and 50 percent effaced. That was enough to schedule the induction.

I hardly slept the night before I was so excited and anxious. My boys were excited too. They woke up at 5:30 in the morning.

Our dark-haired, chubby-cheeked little guy came just after 2 in the afternoon and I have never been so happy to hear a tiny baby cry. He was a week early, but was still a good 7 pounds 6 ounces.

And as much as I love our new little addition, his brothers may have me beat. I have never seen two little boys swarm around a baby like my oldest two boys swarm around our newborn. They are enamored by him and want to be right next to him all of the time.

The past week and a half has felt like a dream. I still can’t believe our baby is real, and that we got to bring him home.

I am sure there will be times when my storm will return, for I’ll never forget, nor ever be able to replace the beautiful baby I buried 2 years ago. And I will always feel saddened that my husband and I will never have all of our children together.

But for now I am going to bask in the colors of my rainbow and soak in his glow.

I think Courtney said it perfectly on babycenter.org:

“Rainbow Babies” is the understanding that the beauty of a rainbow does not negate the ravages of the storm. When a rainbow appears, it doesn’t mean the storm never happened or that the family is not still dealing with its aftermath. What it means is that something beautiful and full of light has appeared in the midst of the darkness and clouds. Storm clouds may still hover but the rainbow provides a counterbalance of color, energy and hope.

The Meltdown

05 Jul 2012 3 Comments

by Natalie in Parenting Battles, What's a mom to do?

We made such a mess at the ice cream parlor last week that I don’t know if my husband will ever take us back.

We let the boys choose their own flavors. Of course my oldest chose the brightest blue cotton candy ice cream I have ever seen. To top it off, he decided to get gumballs mixed in.

My first instinct was to change his mind. But then I remembered all the times my older sister and I ordered pink bubblegum ice cream from Baskin Robbins and the hours it took us to eat it because we would spit the fluorescent pink square-shaped gum cubes into a napkin. That way we could eat them later.

Maybe he would like doing that too.

Before I had even taken a lick of my own chocolate Reese’s cone I turned to see his chin dripping with bright blue goo as he struggled to eat both the gumballs and the ice cream.

He was torn.

I taught him the napkin trick but that only made it worse. I sat across from him, and watched him regurgitate diced up gumballs onto a napkin while leaning over and dipping his shirtsleeve deep into his ice cream bowl each time. He was a mess.

But all I could do was laugh. That made matters worse — for me.

The next thing I knew the bottom of my waffle cone had sprung a leak and I was dripping chocolate all the way down my front. I couldn’t even see past my pregnant belly to know where the drips were.

Once again I started laughing.  I snorted all over and spilled even worse than either of my boys. I had ice cream coming out my nose and mouth.

My husband had to bail me out with a big fist full of napkins.

A few more blue and chocolate shirt stains and a dozen napkins later, my 5-year-old and I were finally done.

I am sure my husband was relieved. I eat ice cream a lot, but I have never had a meltdown like that at the local parlor.  We made a big mess.

But I can’t wait to go again.