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Jennifer Margulis

Mothering Outside the Lines

More on Sleep (or Lack thereof)

March 10th, 2010

“Getting any sleep?”

This seems to be the question of choice that well-meaning strangers, family members, and friends all ask me. I guess Americans enjoy talking about sleep and in our culture we equate babies with sleepless nights. Plus I’m practically holding up a sign with the dark circles under my eyes and my mussed hair: SLEEPLESS LADY.

Usually it’s not the baby’s fault. Four-month-old Baby Leone does what a baby needs to do: wakes up at night to nurse or to use the potty or to let me know that her diaper’s wet. Then she goes right back to sleep (unless she decides, at 4:00 a.m., that it’s time to party. But that’s only happened a couple of times in the past month). If she doesn’t settle down right away, I put her on my chest belly to belly and let her suck on my pinkie finger and she falls asleep almost instantly, her ear pressed against my heart.

That’s when I wake up. My mind comes alive in the dark. My mind makes it clear to me that there’s so much to obsess over and tries to make up for the lost time during the day not spent worrying.

Me: Stop that. There’s nothing you can do about the unpaid property taxes, following up on Etani’s eye examination, or Jim, Sr.’s cancer right now. Elie’s home from the hospital and you don’t have to fret about her either. You need to sleep in order to be clear headed for the big project with the fast approaching deadline. Breathe.

My Mind: Unpaid bills, vision therapy, cancer, open-heart surgery, deadlines, ha ha! [add sinister laughter here]. And they’ll be no sleep for you either when you’re traveling in April to Chicago and New York City with the baby. Ha ha ha!

Me: I’ll try that trick of subtracting backwards from 100 by 7s that a reader suggested. That often works. One hundred minus seven is 93…

My Mind: James leaves Thursday and you forgot to call the babysitter. You’ll never get those articles written! You have those books on kids and safety waiting at the library, you didn’t talk to your mom on her birthday, your brother’s going to Mali without you, Illiasou’s getting married and you won’t be there…

I wish I knew where the OFF switch was.

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[ 18 comments ]

Should You Lie to Your Children?

March 9th, 2010

A version of this article was first published in the Ashland Daily Tidings.

Baby Kaseem had a doctor’s appointment so it was time for me to take my three children home for dinner. Our visit was almost over but without thinking, because his daughter asked, our friends’ dad turned on some cartoons.

My son scrambled onto the couch, settled in and looked happily at the TV screen.

“We have to go sweetie,” I apologized. “We can’t stay and watch cartoons today.”

Above the protests of his daughter, the dad went to shut off the TV.

“Look,” he said. “The TV’s not working right. It’s broken.”

Sure enough, the picture scrambled.

Reluctant to get off the couch, my son Etani, who was three years old at the time, hesitated.

The scrambled screen interested him—(“I’m going to be a fixer when I grow up, Mommy,” he liked to say. “A fixer and a mommy and a bad guy and maybe also a lion”)—but then he sighed, wriggled off the couch, and came cooperatively to the door.

The dad told me in the car as he drove us home that he had fiddled with the screen, pretending the TV was broken so his daughter wouldn’t insist on watching it.

He had told a white lie to the kids to avoid a scene.

White lies are convenient like that—they provide a way to cut parenting corners and dodge problems.

Instead of saying “No, you can’t go over to Camille’s house for half an hour right now because you need to finish your homework, spend time with the family, and we’re eating dinner soon,” which potentially invites discussion (if you have a persuasive and tenacious firstborn like I do), you say, “You can’t go over to Camille’s because she’s not home right now,” or, “Her mother told me she wasn’t feeling well.”

Like a broken TV, if Camille is sick or absent there’s nothing to fight about.

But small lies often lead to more lies, sometimes even bigger ones.

How do you explain that the TV is suddenly working? What do you say when Camille tells your daughter that she’s perfectly healthy? As a parent, I try to avoid lying to my children as much as I can. If I lie to them, how can they trust me and know that, as much as I can, what I tell them is the truth?

But being truthful often makes parenting more complicated. Once when Hesperus was seven years old and getting ready for school she bounced in to the kitchen to ask me if she had done a good job with her hair.

It was in a lumpy ponytail with a lot of hair sticking out. She looked unkempt.

I hesitated.

I knew she had worked on the ponytail for a long time and I didn’t want to tell her it looked bad. I knew if I told the truth she might get mad at me and also have hurt feelings. But if I didn’t tell her the truth, my white lie might hurt her more: she might get teased at school, or look in the mirror again and realize that her ponytail was not pretty.

“What Mommy? Tell me!” she said impatiently.

“You have such thick hair and it’s really hard to get it into a nice ponytail,” I began. “And I don’t want to hurt your feelings but, honestly, it doesn’t look good. I think you should do it again.”

She scowled at me, her eyebrows knit, and then, brush in hand, flounced out of the room back to the mirror in the bathroom. She spent a long time in the bathroom and came back with a much neater ponytail.

“Is this one better?” she asked.

It wasn’t perfect. There was still one ridge where the hair had bunched instead of being smooth. But it was better. Now she looked like a well-groomed child instead of a hobo.

“Yes,” I answered honestly, hugging her.

For a minute she held her body stiff but then she leaned into my embrace.

We want to protect our kids and praise them but how can they believe us—and believe in themselves—if we lie to them?

I was proud of my daughter for trying again, and glad I’d told her the truth.

What do you think about telling children white lies? As a parent do you manage to always avoid lying to your children or do you find that there are times when lying is okay? Please share your thoughts in the comment section below.

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[ 13 comments ]

On the Care and Feeding of a Four-Month-Old

March 5th, 2010
Leone Tripoding

Leone Tripoding

When Leone was born she looked like a prizefighter who had lost the match: her eyes were puffy and her face was squashed. She came out frowning, unsure about the world where she suddenly found herself.

Now, four months old,she’s much less skeptical. She’s a serious little creature but she has a good sense of humor and a patient, kind, sociable disposition.

She can’t really roll over yet but she can wriggle.

She’s such an accomplished wriggler that if you put her on her tummy she’ll kick and flail and manage to move somewhere. Then she raises her eyebrows in stunned surprise, as if to say “Where am I?”

She dislikes being on her tummy. Unlike her three siblings, she actually seems to sleep more peacefully on her back. I know that’s supposed to be the safest position for newborns but I’ve always put my babies on their tummies because they would not sleep in any other position.

We lie her on her back so much she has a bit of a bald spot on the back of her head–a telltale sign that she needs more tummy time.

“But her head’s not flat,” James says every time I tell him or one of the big kids to GET THAT BABY OFF THE BACK OF HER HEAD!

Flat or not, that little bald spot is telling us something (and it’s not that she needs anti-dandruff shampoo).

Four Months Old, Leone Loves to Suck her Thumb

Four Months Old, Leone Loves to Suck her Thumb


She Also Likes Baby Wrestling With Big Brother Etani

She Also Likes Baby Wrestling With Big Brother Etani


Grabbing Noses is Fun Too!

Grabbing Noses is Fun Too!


And Being Held by Big Sister Hesperus

And Being Held by Big Sister Hesperus

Leone loves to be outside in the front pack or the Ergo Baby back carrier. When she sees either one her eyes light up, she smiles so wide she drools, and she kicks her legs excitedly. She’ll stay quiescent for a long time when she’s being carried, and then drift off to sleep.

She also loves:

  • grabbing hair and tugging it up and down,
  • eating her siblings’ noses,
  • making google-y eyes and smiling at people from the safety of my lap,
  • sucking her thumb,
  • sucking someone else’s inverted pinkie finger,
  • lying on her back and playing with her feet and sucking on her big toe,
  • practicing tripoding, which she can almost do,
  • talking (Leone: “Ah da ba!” Etani: “Oh, really?!” Leone: “Ah bah bah bah!!”),
  • nursing–she likes this so much that she laughs with glee when she sees a breast heading her way.

Here’s what this four-month-old doesn’t like:

  • loud noises, especially the clattering of plates. When we empty the dishwasher it makes her startle and sometimes she’ll even cry. (She also doesn’t like it when Etani shouts instead of talks at the dinner table which, unfortunately, is a nightly occurrence),
  • being alone,
  • going in the car when she’s tired–this makes her scream,
  • having to go pee when someone’s holding her–she’ll squirm and fidget and complain to indicate that she needs to go,
  • being hungry–her cry for food is very different from her other cries. She says “Ut ut ut ut,” which is almost exactly the noise Hesperus used to make,
  • having a wet diaper–if she doesn’t fuss to indicate she has to go, she’ll squirm and protest right after she’s gone to let you know she needs a change,
  • being held by anyone other than her mom, dad, two sisters, or brother. When it’s dinnertime and she’s getting fussy, she even cries real tears if anyone other than me tries to hold her. As soon as I take her (maybe it’s my smell?), she quiets right down.

Leone naps a lot (except when I’m on deadline with no one to watch her). She usually wakes around 6:00 a.m. and stays alert until the girls leave for school around 8:00 a.m. Then she takes a nap, which lasts anywhere from half an hour to a couple of hours.

She wakes up again for awhile, nurses, pees, and stays awake for another variable stretch. The afternoon nap is usually longer than the morning nap, followed by a longer stretch of alertness.

Leone nurses every two to three hours, sometimes more. Any longer than three hours and my breasts get swollen and sore. She doesn’t spit up as much as she used to but you can usually find a white patch of baby yogurt on my sleeve or back.

“My lovey bucket,” Athena likes to call her. Athena sighs when she looks at her. “Mommy, the baby is sooooo cute,” she says, as if she can barely stand it.

I know exactly how she feels. I can feel Leone’s cuteness all the way down in the tips of my toes. I love her so much it makes me ache. We all do. I’ve never had such a sweet baby and I’ve never appreciated a baby as much as I appreciate her.

But it’s heartbreaking too. Even as I write this she is growing. I know it’s her job to get bigger and accomplish new tasks but I can barely stand it.

Happy four months Baby Leone. I love you.

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[ 17 comments ]

A Rant Against the Overuse of Antibiotics

March 3rd, 2010

Athena, who just turned 9, has never taken an antibiotic

Athena, who just turned 9, has never taken an antibiotic

When Athena was a baby she got an infection on her face. I ignored it for several days but finally took her to our favorite doctor in Massachusetts, whose office was in Hadley.

“So, what’s wrong with the baby?” He asked me, as he scrubbed his hands in the sink in the examining room.

“That’s what I came here to ask you,” I said.

“Tell me what you think.”

“Okay,” I took a deep breath and realized I was genuinely glad he was asking. “I think she has a bacterial infection. I think it’s probably staphylococcus but I’m not sure.”

“Right!” Dr. W. slid the rolling chair close to Athena, who was on my lap, and looked carefully at her face. “So what should we do about it?”

“That’s what I came here to ask you,” I laughed.

“You tell me,” Dr. W. said.

“Okay,” I took another deep breath and felt sorry that Dr. W. was already married. “I think, honestly, that it might not need to be treated but I’m not sure. It’s too far gone to respond to a topical medication so to treat it we would have to give the baby an oral antibiotic and I’m not sure I want to do that, especially since I’m allergic to penicillin.”

“Right again,” Dr. W. said. “Here’s what we are going to do. I’m going to write you a prescription for a broad-spectrum antibiotic. You decide if you want to fill it or not but you’ll have the prescription. I feel comfortable waiting 48 hours. If the infection gets worse or if the baby gets a fever or if you find you’re just too worried, I want you to put her on this antibiotic. But maybe–and I’m not sure about this so don’t quote me–it will clear up by itself.”

He ripped the script off the pad and handed it to me. I took the prescription and left. I filled it at the pharmacy on the way home. Somehow I felt better having the medicine in hand.

But we didn’t give the antibiotic to Athena. We waited. The infection did not get worse. We waited another day. I fretted and wondered if I should start feeding the pink syrupy medicine to her. But after two days the infection still had not worsened and Athena did not have a fever. A few days later the skin that had been so red and angry started to dry out. It turned brownish and started to flake off. Her face looked terrible, like she’d been eating chocolate and smeared it on her cheeks. But slowly, with only the help of her own immune system, the baby healed.

The overuse, overprescription, and misuse of antibiotics has become such a problem that Western medicine seems to actually be breeding deadly bacterial infections that are immune to treatment. A New York Times article by Andrew Pollack, “Rising Threat of Infections Unfazed by Antibiotics,” which appeared on February 27, 2010, reports that tens of thousands of hospital patients may be dying each year from antibiotic-resistant bacterial infections.

Pollack writes: “[Acinetobacter baumannii] is one of a category of bacteria that by some estimates are already killing tens of thousands of hospital patients each year. While the organisms do not receive as much attention as the one known as MRSA — for methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus — some infectious-disease specialists say they could emerge as a bigger threat.

That is because there are several drugs, including some approved in the last few years, that can treat MRSA. But for a combination of business reasons and scientific challenges, the pharmaceuticals industry is pursuing very few drugs for Acinetobacter and other organisms of its type, known as Gram-negative bacteria. Meanwhile, the germs are evolving and becoming ever more immune to existing antibiotics.”

An incompetent doctor once prescribed an antibiotic for Hesperus for an ear infection she did not have. Hesperus was crying and fussy from missing her nap while we waited for more than an hour for a Well Baby visit. The doctor saw that her ears were red–from crying–so she told me, “I think Miss Hesperus has an ear infection,” and prescribed an antibiotic and “something for the pain.” That was the last Well Baby visit we’ve ever taken a child to.

Doctors are way too quick to prescribe antibiotics and parents are way too quick to give them to their children when they’re completely unnecessary.

There are so many healthy ways to boost a child’s immune system. We need to make sure our children get enough rest. We need to breastfeed our children for as long as possible (I’d say three years is a good minimum). We need to feed our children healthy food instead of giving them the pesticide-laden, Red-Dye-#40-tainted, nutrition-less crap advertised on TV and served up in most school cafeterias. We need to drink raw, unpasturized milk and make raw, organic vegetables a good part of our diets. We need to hug our children and make sure they get lots of affection every day, and that they have lots of grown-ups in their lives who tell them they love them and take the time to listen to their fears and their dreams.

While the overuse of antibiotics is a boon for drug company profits and for organisms with unpronounceable names like Acinetobacter baumannii and methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus, it is deadly for us humans.

Giving any medication to a child, especially antibiotics, should be a last resort.

Related posts:
Why I Don’t Take My Children to Well Baby Visits
In America We Are Forcing Women To Have C-Sections
If You’re Pregnant, The Swine Flu Vaccine May Not Be Safe

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[ 10 comments ]

Small Acts of Kindness

March 2nd, 2010

For Hesperus’s Body Basics class she has homework assignments called “Time Together.”

The teacher gives the girls questions related to their changing bodies and the girls then have to interview their moms.

The idea is for you and your daughter to talk together about an intimate subject. With your permission, the girls share your answers at the next class. During the parent orientation, the teacher explained that this homework not only helps foster intimacy between daughters and mothers but that it helps the girls open up and start talking about themselves as well.

This week the Time Together question was about definitions of beauty. My Aunt Judy, who is 65, was visiting so Hesperus decided to interview both of us.

We only had about 15 minutes before Judy’s flight back to California was going to board. The three of us sat in the row seats outside security at the airport and talked about how being thin and having blue eyes are culturally determined ideals of beauty. And how definitions of beauty vary from country to country and often change over time. In Niger, West Africa, where we lived for a year, a woman should be zoftig, the plumper the better. In Niger “You’ve lost weight” is actually an insult or expression of concern and “You’ve gained weight!” is a compliment. Zuri, my nurse practitioner friend Peter’s housekeeper who is naturally thin (and has an absolutely perfect body by American standards), actually asked Peter to prescribe her medicine to help her gain weight!

Judy and I both agreed that beauty, real beauty, comes from the inside. Judy mentioned how you can meet someone and find them unattractive but the more you get to know them the more beautiful they become. After awhile it doesn’t matter if they have a crooked nose or bad skin, you find yourself hopelessly attracted to them because they are such a good person.

The opposite can happen too: you get to know someone who you initially find beautiful only to discover they have a rotten personality. Soon their skin-deep beauty no longer appeals to you at all.

The people I find the most beautiful (besides my utterly gorgeous children!) are the ones who are kind and thoughtful and who carry themselves with confidence. People who walk with their backs straight and their shoulders back–who look like they feel comfortable in their bodies and are enjoying themselves in the world–often catch my eye.

For the record, I have a bad posture and am a horrible sloucher. The teacher asked the girls to ask their moms: “Do you think you’re beautiful?” I didn’t feel like sharing my insecurities would be the best way to answer that question–and Judy’s plane was about to leave–so instead of going into a long and painful history about my own self-image, I wrote “Sometimes I do” as my answer.

Which is true. Though I struggle with my self-image, I sometimes feel beautiful, especially when I am kind to others. Kindness gives me an endorphin rush, it makes me feel more connected to the world, and I like to think it even helps alter the tally of the universe in favor of good over evil.

Last week at dinner we were talking about my friend’s baby who is having open-heart surgery this week. We all started crying at the dinner table. Hesperus actually put her head on the table and sobbed. I saw James wipe the tears out of the corners of his eyes.

Instead of reading books we spent the rest of the evening making cards for Elie and her family. We gathered up gently used things in our house that we thought each of Elie’s siblings might like. Since they live in Maryland and we are in Oregon and I’m too far away to make them dinner, we also sent along some pasta, a can of tomatoes … and an onion.

I want to be a kinder person. I can’t erase the wrinkles on my face and it doesn’t look like I’ll be losing the baby fat on my tummy anytime soon but I think small acts of kindness are one way to be more beautiful.

What does beauty mean to you? What is your definition of a beautiful person? I’d be curious to hear your thoughts in the comment section below.

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[ 22 comments ]






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