I’m not pregnant, so I can’t blame my forgetfulness on that. I totally forgot to let you all know about the carnival that Pediascribe was featured in last week. So here I am….as they say, better late than never.

Last week’s Carnival of Family Life #51 was posted over at Digital Rich Daily. Mike’s article about talking to kids after tragedies was featured in that edition.

Now, onto the CURRENT editions– the Carnival of Family Life #52 is up over at Parenting Toddlers. My submission Preparing for Adolescence is in it. There are also a bunch of other great articles so be sure to head over to Parenting Toddlers and check it out.

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Nearly 16 years ago I married, moved to Columbus, and started a new job as an ICU nurse at Columbus Children’s Hospital. Because of my lack of seniority, I was placed on the swing shift rotation, meaning I did two weeks of day shift followed by two weeks of night shift. Even though the hours were not ideal to living a normal life, I preferred my night shift rotation. One of the reasons was because night shifts were much calmer. Doctors weren’t rounding on patients. Family members weren’t coming in for visits. And the phone hardly ever rang.

The other reason was because of my friend, Lynn*. She worked straight night shift, and whenever we worked together it was a blast. We were about the same age, both fairly new to the unit, and had lots in common. When Lynn, another friend Jodi, and I were all on the same shift, we were labeled “The Three Musketeers.” When we weren’t caring for our patients, we’d be sharing stories, forming relationships, and laughing. We did a lot of laughing. If I ever needed help with something, I knew I could count on Lynn or Jodi to cheerfully pitch in and give me a hand.

Life changes. After KT was born, I quit my job at Children’s Hospital and found a job with a better schedule. It came as no surprise that as time went on, Lynn and I grew apart. We’d visit occasionally at first. Then we turned to emails. Intermittently we’d send an email giving a quick update. But it wasn’t like it had been on those night shifts.

Years passed. Nine years actually. Then Lynn took the bull by the horns. She planned an outing. This past Saturday we met at the Columbus Zoo. KT, Nick and I met up with Lynn and her two boys. It was like we never missed a beat. We picked up right where we had left off. We shared stories about our current jobs–hers as an R.N. in Labor & Delivery, mine as a home schooling stay-at-home mom. We shared our dreams, our frustrations, and our problems. And we laughed….a lot.

One of the things that struck me was when Lynn shared stories about her younger son. She was telling me about some special needs he has. She was near tears when she shared with me how she’s often had to, somewhat assertively, go to bat for her son. I could see that look on her face that proved she was a mom. She had a fire in her eyes that told me she’d fight and do anything she needed to do to protect her kids. She’d sacrifice her needs to provide for her sons. I know how she feels. I’ve felt the same thing.

Shortly after this exchange we came to the North American area. The two Alaskan brown bear cubs, now 3 years old, were enjoying their day too. They were chasing each other, smacking each other with their huge paws, and wrestling in their makeshift pond. We stood and watched them play for awhile. It was then I noticed the sign explaining how the zoo had acquired the bears, and where the irony of Lynn’s story hit me.

The cubs had been with their mother in Alaska when mama bear charged a man. The man shot at her and injured her. Later, two police officers shot and killed her as she was charging them. The 6-month-old baby bears were orphaned. The cubs were later rescued and transported to Ohio.

Mama Bear was just doing what mama bears do. She was just doing what human moms do. She was protecting her cubs. She would fight if she felt her cubs were being threatened. It’s unclear if there was a real threat, but apparently, she felt there was. She made the ultimate sacrifice for them.

The moral of the story is: Don’t mess with baby bear cubs and don’t mess with children. You’ll find out how fierce and assertive mamas of either species can be.

*names have been changed to protect the guilty

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*Posting a bit early because I’m meeting a friend at the zoo early Saturday morning.

This week’s topic is “Rare.”

Peacocks are normally stunning, but this albino peacock is something special. This one lives at Walt Disney World’s Fort Wilderness Campground. We were lucky to be able to capture a photo of him in all of his albino glory.

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As much as I didn’t want it to happen, my babies are growing up. KT (a shortened form of Katie) will be turning 13 in less than 3 months.) Every stage of her life to this point has had its challenges, but I’m not looking forward to what she is facing. I don’t envy her one bit. Puberty and adolescence are around the corner, and if I remember my own adolescent journey correctly, it was not a fun trip. Then again, I think I blocked most of it out of my conscious memory. I’m sure if I was hypnotized, stories of awkwardness and hurt feelings would flow freely from my lips. What an odd time of life this is–No longer a child, but not an adult either.

In preparation for the turmoil which is sure to ensue, KT and I went away this last weekend. We didn’t go far, only 40 minutes away, but it was a chance for us to spend the weekend together without distractions. Soon I will be the “meanest, stupidest mom in the world,” so this was a great chance for us to get away, talk, and reconnect. It was my chance to warn her of things she was sure to face: peer pressure, physical changes of her body, fickle girlfriends, boy crushes, etc. Having been through all of these situations, I could see how they all played out in the end. In the grand scheme of things, these issues were not as huge as I made them out to be in my teen years. But oh, they seemed larger-than-life when I was going through them. I just want to protect my kids from all of this craziness, but I know they have to go through it themselves.

Luckily, I had some help this weekend in talking to KT. I took along the Preparing for Adolescence CDs by Focus on the Family. It’s an 8 CD set covering topics like feelings of inferiority, pressure to conform, dating, puberty, and the meaning of love. The CDs are a bit dated (Dr. Dobson quotes statistics from the early 1970s), but other than that the ideas are timeless. In fact, there were times when things were brought up on the recording that hit home and reminded me of some of my own painful times as an awkward teen. This especially happened when Dr. Dobson talked about late bloomers (myself being a very late bloomer) and feelings of inadequacy surrounding it. Now I look back on that period of my life and know everything turned out just fine, but back then…..my, oh, my it was NOT fine.

We rotated our time this weekend between listening to the CDs, shopping, swimming in the hotel’s pool, and eating meals out. I learned a lot about KT and what’s going through her mind. She chatted a lot about crushes and self-esteem and nasty things her friends have already pulled on her. It was wonderful to be able to give her 100% of my attention without having to tend to Nick, Mike, laundry, cooking, and cleaning. She loved the fact she could call all of the shots from deciding which restaurant to eat at to how long to stay in the pool. And I loved the fact she’s going into this phase of her life armed with a little more information. I know I can’t protect her totally, but I hope I can lessen the blow.

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Ick.

I was making dinner last night when I noticed something disturbing. The menu was pepper steak and rice. It’s one of those dinners where prep-work is everything. All of the ingredients must be sliced, diced, chopped, and measured and ready to throw together. Once cooking starts, it progresses very quickly.

During this preparation I went to scoop out one cup of rice. I looked into my Tupperware container and the rice was not alone. Along with it were hundreds of little brown specks. And they were moving. They were digging themselves down into the rice and clinging to the sides of the container. I quickly slammed the lid back on.

What’s a person to do when they find bugs in their rice? If you guessed “Google it,” then you’re right! Unfortunately, you cannot put a picture in the Google search bar. The term “rice bugs” revealed lots of possibilities, but I don’t think there was a direct match. The bugs I was dealing with were tiny–probably 1/8 of an inch long or smaller. I have no idea what types of bodies or legs they had because they were far too small to identify any parts of them. The “rice weevil” was a common result of my search, but it looked far too big and menacing to be what I had. Google didn’t help me on this one. I still am at a loss for what they were.

The worst part of it is that we had rice with dinner about 5 days ago. Apparently it was rice with a little extra protein.

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