Beyond the Turkey

The holidays are interesting this year. Any holiday. This year my daughters really understood Halloween... or at least the concept of knocking on doors and receiving candy. Ever since they day after Halloween they've been asking if it's Thanksgiving.
Since they're gung-ho for Thanksgiving, I've been trying to explain to them that the day is about more than turkey. It's been a difficult thing for them to grasp. We've read books and watched movies (specifically the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving episode, which we have on DVD). I think "thankful" is still a little beyond their grasp.
Last week at preschool their class spent a day making a Thanksgiving feast. The next day was a party for students and parents to eat the food. I spent the morning helping in class and had a chance to find out what my daughters are thankful for. The teacher read a Thanksgiving themed book and then asked each student what they're thankful for. Each of my girls named one of our cats. Not mommy. Not daddy. Not even their toys. Cats. I suppose I should be heartbroken, but it made me laugh and still does. They're thankful they have pets who truly are companions to the girls. They even call the cats their "best friends." I like to think my daughters understand the cats are a part of the family, too. So while we're not quite there yet, in terms of the true purpose of Thanksgiving, we're slowly starting to get there. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

A Place for the (Stuffed) Animals

A few months ago, I blogged about all the stuffed animals in my daughters' beds. I accidentally found a solution to keep their beds a little less cluttered.
Now that all four of my daughters are 100% potty trained, it seemed like it was time to take the changing table out of their room. For the last year or so, the changing table has been more of a storage area anyway. Oh, and a nice little climbing toy for them to look out the window.
About a week ago I did my seasonal cleaning out of their closet. During that time Hubby cleaned off the changing table and took it out of their room. In it's place is a Rubbermaid-type "dresser" with four drawers. Each girl has her own drawer. Roo and Tortilla put their cases for their glasses in the drawers. At night we pick out their clothes for the next day and put those in the drawers as well. In the morning they put their pajamas in the drawers.
The first night the dresser was in their room they wanted to fill their drawers to the brim with anything and everything they could find. Tortilla took every stuffed animal and baby doll on her bed and crammed them in her drawer. The other girls followed suit. They refuse to remove the animals at bed time and would now rather keep them in their drawers. It's not the perfect solution to a clean room, but at least they each have more room in their beds now!

Money Matters

I try not to talk too much about money in front of my daughters. They're only four, so I don't think they need to know if and when mommy and daddy are concerned about financial issues. Still, it's time for them to understand what money is.
When my daughters were younger, I could take them to the toy aisle of any store and they were content to simply look. Now, they're likely to ask for something. They don't seem too disappointed when I say "no," but they seem a little confused as to why we can't buy it. Here's a recent conversation we had:

Me: (driving to school and then work) "Oh no I forgot my lunch. I'll have to turn around to get it.
SueSue: "There's a McDonald's by your work. You can get food there."
Me: "McDonald's costs money and I don't have any money in my purse right now."
Roo: "Go to Target. You can get free samples there."
Clever little things, huh?
Recently I decided it was time to give my daughters their first lesson in money and saving. We went to the bank, each of them armed with four crisp $1 bills and a savings account deposit ticket. I explained to them that each of them has a savings account and that's how they save money for something special. When they receive money for birthdays, Christmas, etc. they can take their money to the bank and the people at the bank will keep it safe until the girls decide what they would like to buy. They each had fun turning over their money and their deposit slip. When it was all done, the teller gave them each a lollipop. Tortilla looked a little dismayed. I asked her what was wrong. "I didn't want to use my money to buy a lollipop," she said. Well, I guess we still have some learning to do.

Why the Double Standard?

When this issue first came to light over the summer, I debated whether I really wanted to open the topic up for debate on my blog. But a new article in a parenting magazine has me ready to start a discussion.
I'm talking about women, specifically moms, who drink. In July, a New York woman died in a crash that also killed four children and three other adults. Apparently the woman was legally drunk and impaired by marijuana. There is no excuse for what she did, no justification. But after this case made the news, suddenly various media outlets pounced on the trend of moms who drink. Moms. Not parents. Moms.
I sat down yesterday to read my latest issue of Parents magazine and found myself staring at an article titled "Playdates with Cocktails." The article highlights women who get together and consume alcoholic beverages while their children play. First of all, who are these moms and where do they live? During the playdates I've attended we barely have time to use the bathroom, let alone toss back a few cold ones. I'm not saying that there aren't moms out there who don't crack open a bottle of wine while they're all hanging out, but I have a hard time believing this happens on a daily basis in every suburb of America.
The thing that bothered me most about this article is that there are pages devoted specifically to women who drink. At the end of the article there is a small blurb about the message dads who binge drink send to their children. The message I'm receiving? It's OK for dads to crack open a beer, or two or more but the second mom does it we need to be outraged. Think about football Sunday. The stereotype is a "family man" blowing off steam with his buddies by sharing a few beers (or in the case of my neighbor, opening up the kegerator to the men in the neighborhood). But if moms take a night to share Cosmos with friends, they should be chastised.
I'm well aware that alcohol abuse is a serious problem. I don't condone drinking and driving. I don't think it's a good idea for parents, well, really anyone for that matter, to drink themselves to oblivion. But I also don't think there's anything wrong with enjoying a glass of wine at the end of a long day or having a cold beer with your dinner, whether you're male or female.
Everything we do as parents influences the decisions our children will make later in life. Whether you binge eat, smoke, swear, speed... and, yes, drink. It is all absorbed by our children.
Clearly I am one of the moms who partakes in a glass of wine on occaision. I drink in moderation and I don't hide it from my daughters. One of them asked me once if she could have a sip of my juice (they drink a lot of white grape juice, I was drinking a Chardonnay). I explained to her that I was drinking wine and wine is for adults. Case closed... for now. Perhaps by not making alcohol taboo, I'll have opened up a better line of communication when I need to start having "those" talks with my girls. So, let the discussion begin....

I Could Never Be a Preschool Teacher

This morning I was lucky enough to have time to volunteer at my daughters' preschool. I'm glad I have these chances, because I know there are parents out there who would like to do the same thing, but can't take the time off from work. In the three hours I spent at preschool I came to the conclusion that I could never be a preschool teacher.
In some ways, being a preschool teacher is like being a mom to toddler multiples, but on a much grander scale. At home, when one of my daughters needs to go potty, the other three need to go. This morning, when one preschooler needed to go potty the other 15 needed to go. When one wanted a drink, the other 15 wanted a drink... and so on and so on.
I had the chance to observe the teacher during her lessons. She has the right personality for the job. No matter how many times she was interrupted by a child, she simply stopped what she was doing and answered their questions or commented on their stories. She never raised her voice or lost her cool. She has a five-year-old son, so it's not as though she gets away from "toddlerhood" when the school day is over. Clearly this woman is a saint.
I spent three hours in the classroom. I'm exhausted. Thank goodness my daughters have a teacher who is able to do this day in and day out with a smile on her face!

Cold Weather Clothes Blues

I've got the blues... I've got the cold weather clothes blues... Winter makes me crazy on so many levels. I'm not a huge fan of cold weather to begin with. I grew up in the midwest and feel I've already lived through my share of blizzards. The place I live now doesn't have the same snow storms that I grew up with, but we have at least two doozies a season. If it were up to me I would live somewhere tropical... but then I would probably complain about hurricanes, so I guess I can't win.
My biggest challenge as a parent during the winter is clothing. It's cold in the morning, mild in the afternoon... how the heck should I know how to dress my kids? Layers just aren't always practical. I do enough laundry as it is. Do we wear our light jackets or our heavy duty snow coats? Yes, I check the weather forecast each night, but sometimes the weather changes on a dime here.
But my biggest issue comes with all the stuff we need just to get out the door in the cold weather. I learned the hard way last winter that toddlers are not capable of keeping track of their gloves. After a few days of school, we were missing at least three gloves.... not three pairs, mind you, just three gloves. So, genius that I am, I trekked to Target to buy mitten clips. You would have thought I was speaking French when I asked the employee there to help me find them (because putting them with the kids' gloves would have been too easy). After about 15 minutes we found them... near the hair accessories.
I still haven't figured out how to keep track of our hats. Fortunately, we haven't lost them... yet. Still, many times when I pick my girls up from school I'll find their hats shoved into their backpack or a coat pocket. I'm pretty sure one day soon their cute little purple striped hats will be missing. It comes with the territory of having children, but it's still frustrating.
As for boots... forget it. Quite frankly, I can't afford boots that they're going to wear just a few times. So far we've managed to get by with tennis shoes. I'm looking at the possibility of buying child sized hiking boots for the girls.. and if Kohl's ever sends me another 30% off coupon then I'll buy them.
So, to make a long story short, spring and summer can arrive as soon as they would like. I'm all for seasons that require as little clothing as possible!

From Preemie to Mommy of Preemies

Today hundreds of bloggers are writing posts about premature births. Every year 20 million babies are born too soon. Medical advances are giving these babies a fighting chance, but for many of them, prematurity is still a life or death situation. Last week, to promote today's event, I shared some of my story involving the premature births of my four daughters. Today, I'm taking a slightly different angle.
I was born premature. I was approximately four weeks early. I've been told I spent time in an isolette so my lungs could develop properly. I've never had any developmental complications from being premature, so it never really hit me how serious being born early can be.... until I became a mommy of preemies.
When I learned I was pregnant with quadruplets I was immediately informed that I would give birth early. How early? There was no way to tell. The longer my babies could stay in the womb, the better. With a fairly uncomplicated pregnancy (save for 23 weeks of bed rest), a c-section was scheduled for 32 weeks. Then at 28 weeks and 2 days, at around 4 a.m., my water broke. I was in disbelief. It was way too early!
Twenty-eight weeks was a magic number. It was how far along I had to be to deliver my babies at my local hospital, rather than be immediately transferred to a hospital 2 1/2 hours away that had pediatric specialists.
My tour of the NICU did not prepare me for what would happen. It's not easy seeing someone else's baby connected to monitors with oxygen tubes up her nose. It's even harder when this fragile child is your own. It took 24 hours before I could hold one of my daughters. I was able to hold Tortilla on a pillow for about two minutes while her bedding was changed... then it was right back to the safety of her isolette. It would be weeks before we could hold any of our daughters for more than a few minutes.
The other day I dug out some NICU pictures for my daughters to see. I could see in their eyes how troubled they were to look at pictures of tiny babies with tubes coming out of their noses, etc. Then I had to explain to them that they were the babies in the pictures. We spent some time talking about how tiny they were and all the special care they needed. It's a lot for a 4-year-old to grasp.
We have since moved from the area where we lived when my daughters were born. It is my hope that one day we can visit so my daughters can see that area... and so we can show the NICU staff how well these girls have thrived, partly due to the care they received when they were first born.
To learn more about prematurity and what you can do to help, visit the March of Dimes.