Crossposted at The Workin' Mom blog

I’m feeling nostalgic lately, especially today.

I just got back from spending the morning at YMCA Camp Abe Lincoln in Blue Grass, Iowa, where my oldest boy spent a week one summer when he was about 10.

Why was I at summer camp, you ask? Well, I’m writing a story about it, of course.  

So, I hung out and watched the campers dance, do arts and crafts, sing songs, play games and tidy up their cabins ... and I kept shaking my head, telling myself not to be so pathetic. Because every little boy reminded me of my son.

Of course, my son isn’t a little boy anymore. But everything about daycamp and summer camp still reminds me of him.

Cross posted at the Workin' Mom

My baby daughter (18 months) mostly sleeps through the night now. It’s rare that she wakes up crying anymore.

But last night, she did — screaming, like she’d had a bad dream or something, at about 2 a.m. I stumbled out of bed and into her room, and she wanted me to pick her up.

She acted like her belly hurt or something, thrashing all around and crying at the top of her lungs. So, I rocked her and sang to calm her down. It worked. So, I sang and sang and sang and sang, any old song I could think of. I sang Elvis, Gwen Stefani, 70s ballads, church music, the ABCs. Every time I would think she was asleep, I would stop and close my eyes, and she would startle and reach up for my face and say, “Mommy, pweeze.”

She wanted another song, bless her heart. So, I would sing again, and again, and again.

I mentioned a while ago that I would be competing in a local version of "Dancing with the Stars" as a "celebrity" representative of the newspaper I work for as a reporter. I even included a snippet of video that showed me practicing.

Well, the dance was Sunday night ... AND I WON. I still find this stunning, since I've never thought of myself as a dancer and never had trained as a dancer before in my life (even as a kid).

If you're interested, please go to one of my blogs on our Quad-City Times newspaper Web site and watch one of the videos of the dance. The one my husband took (which is on YouTube, but linked from my blog) is actually a little better, because he includes the awards ceremony. The videos are fairly short,  but (I think) they're fun to watch.

I've been OBSESSED with preparing for this thing, along with covering a major flood and other work and family issues, so I'm sorry I haven't been a regular contributor here lately. I've missed MTers, and hope to visit with you more now that the dance is behind me. :)

Cross-posted at The Workin Mom

My Granddad is dying. Right now, as I type this, he is taking shallow, shallow breaths in a hospice bed at the hospital.

My poor Mom is sitting with him, all by herself, watching him die.

And I’m at work, as much as I don’t want to be. This is an example of one of the horrible things about being a working parent.

I haven’t seen the baby in days, it seems. Not since Sunday morning, when Mom called to say Granddad had fallen down and fractured his skull. He had bleeding in the brain, which got progressively worse in the past few days in the hospital.

He went from fighting to get out of bed, begging for his pants to be put back on, asking for his wife -- to this.

(This was cross-posted at The Workin' Mom)

How did you know the "right amount" of kids you should have? Is there a perfect size of family, at least for you?

Personally, I always hoped for two, and now that I have them, I don’t have any desire to have more. I can't really explain why. I just always "knew" two felt right to me.

But one of my very best friends from childhood, Chasidy, has ALWAYS wanted a big family. Even as a little girl, she would talk about having lots of babies (and I thought she was crazy, even then! ha!).

Well, today, she and her husband, Shawn, officially have that BIG FAMILY. At 7:44 a.m. and 7:45 a.m. today, they welcomed twins -- Elaina and Eric -- to the world ... as their 5th and 6th children.

They have four other daughters, stair-steps in age from 13 down to 2 years old. Beauties, those girls. And the baby of the babies, Eric, is a handsome little man. Chasidy and Shawn feel very blessed, and I’m elated for them.

But I just don’t have the personality -- or the patience -- for all those (beautiful) kids. I love being their pseudo-aunt, but would probably have a nervous breakdown worrying about that many kids ... and that many babies! I thought one at a time was hard enough.  

What about you? How did you decide how many kids was "right?"

Sorry, but I just had to share!

My son (16 yrs old) got to stand along the very crowded route yesterday and see the Olympic torch as it was carried through San Fran on its only leg in North America. And the best thing about it was, he called me at that very moment, and I got to "watch it" with him via CNN.

He was like, "Do you see that van with the red roof?" And I'm like, "Yes, I do!"

"Well, that's like right by me!," he'd say, and I would just laugh with delight.

And when the torch passed in front of him, I was watching the very same view at the very same time (but on TV).

I was at work at the time, and several people overheard me talking to him on the phone about it, and so they gathered around the TV in the newsroom and were like, "Hi, Z!" to the TV with me.

I was so touched by the whole thing -- proud of him for seeking out the experience of such a historic moment, and proud of him for thinking of his Mom -- that I teared up a little.

As a reporter, I was so excited that he would get to be in the thick of things like that. But I was worried, too, with all the safety concerns about protests and that sort of thing.

He was fine. And so was I. It was great.

(Crossposted at the Workin' Mom)

When my oldest child, 16-year-old Z, was little, he was my mini-shadow. And I loved it.

I took him everywhere -- yes, even to work occasionally. No, not very often to the office and around other co-workers during regular business hours.

But he did spend a lot of his childhood evenings going to city council and school board meetings with me, as I covered them for the newspaper. He also got to go to a lot of other cool events with me because of my job.

I always made sure he CLEARLY understood the rules. He was to be extremely quiet, sit still and not even THINK about asking to go to the bathroom until the meeting was over. And I can’t remember even one time that he didn’t obey -- even when he was just a preschooler. He was/is a great kid.

But he wasn’t an infant.

What would you think if your co-worker brought his/her infant to work every day, in the office, right next to your desk?

Not too long ago, one of our fellow MTers shared several beautiful photos here of her baby, who had died. And I remember crying as I looked at them.

She mentioned that an organization called Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep had provided the volunteer photographer who took the portraits, which I'm sure she finds much comfort in looking at now.

I'm a journalist, and ended up writing a newspaper story about this organization that that you can read here. A local photographer is the regional coordinator for NILMDTS, and I found an area couple who was kind enough to share their story about losing their precious little son, Samuel.

Just thought I would share it with you.

Cross-posted at The Workin' Mom.

See this cute little girl? She’s just 2.

Her mom calls her a "miracle baby," born in the midst of her cancer treatments. Despite it all, little Angelina came out "perfect," she said.

But she won’t get to grow up.

A TV toppled off a cart and fell on top of her, killing her.

It’s a sad reminder for all of us -- including me -- to be extra careful when our toddlers are climbing around on things, like they have a tendency to want to do. We don’t have TVs on carts anymore, but what about computers? Lamps? Even heavy framed artwork?

Like Angelina’s family says in the story, we have most of our cupboard doors so child-proof that we can barely get them open. But it’s worth the time to check everything again, and think hard before setting something down where the baby can reach -- or climb.

It’s amazing how fast kids can move at this age. At my house, one minute, the baby is playing with a book on the floor. The next minute, she’s dumping the dog’s water bowl and splashing around in it ... or worse.

I’ll be thinking of Angelina’s family tonight when I go home and hug my little daughter (and also send "virtual" hugs to my 16-year-old son, who I love with all my heart, too).

(Cross-posted at The Workin' Mom)

Oh. my. god. This story literally makes my stomach hurt.

A 20-year-old father in Galveston, Texas, was convicted today of felony injury to a child for -- brace yourselves -- putting his then 2-month-old infant in a hotel microwave ... and then turning it on for 10-20 seconds. He already had reportedly punched the baby and put her in the hotel safe and fridge at some point, according to the story that you can read by clicking here.

Oh, and I bet you guessed it already. Yep. He claimed he was insane at the time of the abuse. The prosecution’s experts didn’t buy that, and neither did the jury.

The baby, named Ana, is one year old now. She still has wounds that need cleaned every day, according to her foster mother. Officials say Ana suffered second- and third-degree burns to her left ear, cheek, hand and shoulder and needed skin grafts.

Doesn’t this make you heartsick? I think about my two precious kids, and I just cannot imagine doing something like this to them -- or to any baby, period.

And what’s the possible punishment for this guy? The story says he faces "anything from probation to life in prison." Probation?! That’s actually an option in this case? I’m shaking my head in disgust right now.

(Cross-posted at The Workin' Mom)

As my Babycakes likes to say, "No, no, no" ... Let’s not talk about how cold it’s supposed to be (where I'm at in Illinois) this weekend, when we’re trying to hunt for Easter eggs.

Instead, let’s dish about Mary Kay Le Tourneau. Remember her? I still think it’s intriguing to read all the stories about this former elementary school teacher, now famous for having a 10-year affair --
and two kids -- with a boy she started having sexual contact with when he was only 12, and she was 34.

They even ended up getting married in 2005, which I thought was even more interesting. I mean, what the heck?!! Can you imagine a 34-year-old woman feeling attraction for a little kid like that? It’s horrible. But I guess I wasn’t outraged. I thought it was disgusting, yes. But I sort of secretly cheered when they ended up getting married so many years later.

I don’t think I would have been so entertained if the tables had been turned -- if Mary Kay had been a male teacher who seduced a female student.

Is there is a double standard here? A lot of experts think so.

(This was cross-posted at Workin' Mom blog.)

Dang, can’t kids enjoy ANYTHING without parents having to worry about lead poisoning or some other horrible thing?

I’m not kidding, just 30 minutes ago I had to make a quick run to the drug store and grabbed a bag of plastic Easter eggs for Babycakes to play with this weekend. She got to play with a few when we got her Easter pictures taken the other day, and she thought they were very cool.

By the way, she calls them "balls!" But she also calls green peas "balls," too. Too funny!

Anyway, I just got back to my desk and saw this wire story about some plastic Easter eggs testing for lead paint. Are you kidding me?! You can read about it, too, by clicking here.

Well, I’m still giving her the eggs to play with. I’m not going to live in fear of everything. We all grew up playing with plastic eggs, too, and we’re fine, right? And for as little time as she's going to have them in her hands, I think it will be OK.

I’m also looking forward to taking Babycakes to her first official Easter egg hunt this weekend. She’ll have fun playing with all of her cousins, I’m sure.

What are you all doing this weekend with your kids? Going to any Easter egg hunts?