Please stop feeding our kids sugar.

Let's start by establishing that I am not a candy-hating witch.

I eat chocolate every single day. I'm not exaggerating there. Some days that small chocolate square is the only thing that keeps me sane. Yesterday I ate a baseball size serving of Swedish Fish because I have no willpower. I love candy. I am also a mom trying to feed my children healthy food, and I am making this request on behalf of moms like me: Please STOP feeding our kids sugar.

The AHA recommends that children ages 4-8 eat no more than 130 calories from sugar per day. That's the same as 3 teaspoons or 12.5 grams of sugar. Studies suggest that the average kid actually eats around 21 teaspoons per day.

I want you to stop for a moment and image a child you know eating 21 teaspoons of sugar.

We've all heard the facts. Anything processed or packaged in any way usually has added sugar. The Cheerios my kids eat for breakfast have 1g. The "healthy" greek yogurt has 13g. A Capri Sun drink pouch also has 13g- that's all their recommended sugar in one little pouch. I can't speak for other kids, but mine don't consider yogurt or a drink pouch their treat for the day.

Treats are everywhere in a child's world. Restaurants and offices have bowls of suckers. The grocery pick-up place gives out fruit snacks. I ration Halloween candy to one per day. I threw out the remaining Halloween candy the day before Valentine's Day. The candy stashes were restocked from the class parties. On St. Patty's day there is now a leprechaun that brings treats to school. Last year our kids were really confused why he didn't come to our house too. I could keep going...

I feel like I am fighting against a constant bombardment of sugary junk food, and I am always losing.

The actual candy situation at our house right now. I guess I missed some Halloween candy.

Just as an example, last Sunday my own children found fruit snacks and powdered sugar doughnuts at church, they ate pancakes for brunch, had a sucker from some errand I don't even remember, and then asked for some of their Valentine's Day candy in the afternoon.

What all of these statistics and anecdotes mean is that whether you are a teacher, a babysitter, a grandparent or just some well-meaning stranger at a football game, by the time you see our kids they have already FAR exceeded their 3 teaspoons of sugar for the day. That "one little treat" that you rationalize won't hurt at all is adding to the extra 18 teaspoons of sugar every day.

We are beyond thankful for all of the people who help us care for our children and want to spoil them with treats, but therein lies the problem: Everyone wants to spoil them with treats.

Maybe even more important, I would like to spoil my children sometimes. I love taking them for ice cream or giving them a treat once in a while. But every time I do I think of the fact that they already got all of their allotted sugar for the day just from their regular food. I read the articles that say sugar, not fat, may be the #1 cause of heart disease. Processed sugar intake has been linked to cancer. I'm not worried about ruining their dinner, I'm worried about not killing them.

I say "no" to treats more times in a day than I can count. I don't like that. I want to be the fun mom who says "Here, eat a Starburst." But when three other people have already fed my kids treats that day, I'm stuck being the witch.

Please don't make me be the candy-hating witch.

The Drama Curse

A few weeks ago we experienced what I can only assume is a preview of the tween drama that will hit us full force very soon.  Our darling girl was making a get well card for Grandpa.  At the very end, she wrote "Can't wait to see you on the Disney curse."

I laughed and said "That's so cute.  Just cross it out and write CRUISE. Grandpa will totally get a kick out of it."  The flailing of arms and running from the room left me stunned.  It was as if our daughter had been replaced by a bad actress playing cliche teenage girl #1.  I quite literally had NO response.

My husband, on the other had, handled it like a pro.  He said something that made her laugh, convinced her that grandpa would love it and also worked in a lesson about how things don't have to be perfect.

Moral of the story:  Husband will handle all girl drama from ages 8-18.

A few days later when I told our daughter that her card had made Grandpa's day, she was all smiles.

That is the end of this post.  If we are listing things on which I am NOT an expert, dealing with tween drama is near the top.  I have no further reflections or advice.  If you've got any for me, please share!

Cardigans and Yoga Pants

I'm going there.  Prepare yourself.  No, not the yoga pants.  The working vs. stay-at-home-mom debate.

I have now officially lived for 2.5 months as a stay at home mom.  Making me TOTALLY not an expert, but has that ever stopped me from weighing in before?  Nope.

For 13+ years I worked full time.  8 of those years while also parenting children along with my husband.  I assure you that it is absolutely possible to work full time and raise children well.  It involves careful scheduling, freezer meals and cramming a lot of stuff into weekends.  Also, if there are two adults actively participating in the parenting, that is a major bonus.

To be honest with you, I never understood why anyone would want to be a stay at home parent.  I'm sure some people adore being home all day with babies, but I liked working outside my home far more than that experience.  I loved the creativity, energy and interactions that my job as a teacher allowed me. Once children went to school I was extremely baffled by what someone would DO all day. It does not take 7 hours to produce food for your family.

After 2.5 months, here are my very un-expert findings: Being a stay at home mom allows me time to devote to my family.  I don't mean that I cater to their every whim, or even make their beds for them in the morning. However, I'm not trying to straighten my hair at 6:25 a.m. while yelling "Is everyone wearing shoes?!?"

I have 5 minutes to sit down with the girls after school.  I have time to reflect on things and think them through instead of running non-stop and making snap decisions because I forgot to research something or talk it over with my husband.  At night, when I would have been simultaneously emptying the dishwasher, packing lunches and brainstorming lesson ideas, I am now able to play with my kids (At least every once in a while.)  While it is not the challenge for my brain that teaching was, being a stay at home mom has brought some calm and balance to my life and therefore to my family's life as well.

I once read a hilarious list about ways to know if you're dating/married to a teacher. One read "At the end of the day, she resembles a frizzy witch in a cardigan." That was me in a nutshell- frizzy, witchy AND cardigan-y.  I can safely say that being a stay at-home mom has eliminated much of the witchy-ness at the end of the day.  I no longer yell at the kid who is taking an extra long time in the shower.  And while I haven't broken out the cardigans yet, I do find myself slightly overdressed much of the time since I don't seem to own a lot of yoga pants.

Exactly how I felt at the end of every work day.

Just in case you're wondering what I DO all day... I go to the gym instead of paying for a membership I never used.  I grocery shop so that I'm not taking up half of Saturday.  I clean and organize stuff so that we can actually find it without running around screaming at the last minute.  I go to programs at the girls' school.  I've been to 4 of these in the past months, compared to 2 the entire 8 years I was working.

What else do I do?  I look for a job.

Exciting news!  I am now a contributor for the NW Arkansas Moms Blog.  Look for a link to my first post coming soon!

"Not Everyone Gets a Trophy" is hard to explain to an 8-year-old

One afternoon my beautiful, smart 8-year-old girl got off the bus and said to me "There's a super fun carnival at school tonight and we can't go because we have dance.  Dance ruins everything and I lost the election and I get all the wrong answers in class."  She started sobbing.  Cue the rain (Seriously, it started pouring on us as we walked home. The only thing missing was the dramatic music and perhaps a montage of all the other dramatically sad things in her 8-year life.)

This was not the tween drama that is starting to appear in our lives.  This was pure sadness and disappointment.  She sat on my lap and cried.  I am not good at dealing with this sadness.  I tried explaining that I have wanted something many times and it didn't work out.  I tried explaining that I make mistakes every day.  I'm not sure it helped.  I've studied psych and child development, worked with kids for 15 years and I'm pretty much useless in the face of a lost third grade election.

This year seems to be filled with more disappointments than past years.  There was another election (It's a monthly thing) and we helped her plan a speech and make a poster.  It came down to a tie-breaker and she lost by one vote, but told me she congratulated the winner and shook his hand.  That time I did better.  I told her hearing that made me more proud than if she had won the election.

Yesterday the parts for the third grade musical were posted.  She did not get one.  She said to me "The kids that didn't get a part don't even get to be in the musical."  I had no answer for that.  (It's not true, by the way. I felt so bad I emailed the music teacher.)

Trust me! I am not the parent that thinks everyone should get a trophy.  I do not believe that my little snowflake is any more special than yours.  I've seen first hand the results of too much praise for too little work. I've also seen the results of parents that intervene too much for their children.  I don't want to raise one of those children.

What I would like is a script.  I think it is something like "Sometimes you get a special job and sometimes you don't.  Sometime you win and sometimes you lose.  When you are disappointed, you look for ways to work harder next time."  I just wish that was easier to explain in the face of disappointment.