With the holidays come company, and company calls for manners (though they certainly should be used everyday, too!) This piece appears in the current (November) issue of Memphis Parent Magazine.
“What do you think about America?” I asked our new Korean friends during a recent dinner together.
“We love America,” the husband replied, “but they do not teach their children manners.”
His answer didn’t surprise me, but it did make me more determined than ever to ensure my own children know how to act properly. I had to check myself: my two year old does take frequent breaks from the dinner table, and I often spot my children’s elbows where they shouldn’t be. On the other hand, my kids do ask to be excused and clear their plates when they’re finished. Nevertheless, I have decided it is time to fine tune the manners at our house, so I found some local experts to learn how to better tackle the task.
Why manners matter
“At minimum, manners are a social lubricant,” stresses Carole Troutt, wife of Rhodes College President Bill Troutt. “You really are doing your kids a favor, giving them a leg up, when you teach them proper manners,” she says, adding that for young adults, introductions are an almost an every day occurrence which makes first impressions awfully important.
Elaine Addison, professional nanny and author of Mrs. Poppy’s Guide to Raising Perfectly Happy Children (Collins) agrees. “Not only do manners help build a child’s self confidence, but well mannered children make friends more easily because they consider others’ feelings.” Addison urges parents to invest in their children’s confidence by taking the time to teach basic etiquette “so they will know who they are.”
Modeling Manners
Just why are manners so grossly absent from many kids today? “Kids are often given stuff to take care of them instead of actual parenting,” says Addison, “and people get confused and think that stuff will work, but it won’t. Parents should make manners absolutely nonnegotiable, and that takes time.”
Manners don’t come naturally, adds Addison, whose daughter, Elea, is 22 months. “She can be like a Danish Viking at times,” Addison jokes, “and it takes a tremendous amount of patience, repetition and modeling to instill proper behavior.” Since children copy what they see, she adds, the first step toward instilling manners in your own children is having them yourself. “Even the youngest children can be taught by example in simple ways such as greeting people and saying please and thank you.”
Children will model bad manners just as easily as good ones. Consequently, Addison recommends parents keep young children away from rude TV. “I was once a nanny for a very aggressive child,” she says, “and it didn’t take long to realize the movies she was being exposed to were the source of her behavior.” Since children don’t have the judgment to decide, they need the guidance and input of their parents. I have friends who won’t let their kids watch Arthur, for example, because of the way Arthur and DW pick on one another. While I don’t ban the show, I do interpret as we watch, pointing out when the characters should be kind to one another.
Teaching manners to young kids shouldn’t only be about do’s and don’ts. “Parents forget to have fun with their children,” admonishes Addison, “and with ages five and under, teaching manners can easily be made into a game.” Addison suggests using role play and toys to instill table manners and proper greetings, practicing skills such as looking people in the eye and sitting properly at the table.
Parents with older children shouldn’t abandon the idea of instilling manners. For the over five set, Addison says parents should bring consequences into the picture. “With iPods, computers and cell phones in very young hands these days, there is so much out there to take away,” she says. “It is never too late to curve the bad influences. Habits happen if you insist on proper behavior.”
Troutt concurs. “I don’t think it’s ever too late to learn. In fact, for our seniors, Rhodes career services hosts a couple of dinners through the year and uses them as refresher courses on the basics like which fork and spoon to use. There is always a waiting list; young adults seem eager to hone these skills.”
Sidebar: Age Appropriate Etiquette
Sources:
Debbie Neal, Founder
The School of Protocol and Etiquette
7592 W.Farmington Blvd. #115
Germantown, TN 38139
901-756-2688
memphisprotocal@bellsouth.net
Dr. Jeanne Sheffield, author of Gracian de Paul: Transforming America’s Youth
The Grace Place: Voice, piano, social skills and etiquette for children, teens and adults 323-9100.
3-5 year olds
• Sit in a chair with napkin in lap
• Master fork and spoon with ease (a five year old can use a knife with adult supervision)
• How to use napkins and what to do with them after a meal
• Passing food; polite conversations.
• Telephone etiquette, including 911 calls
• Introductions and handshakes
• Eye contact.
Ages 6-8
• Eye to eye contact
• Firm hand shake
• Learn how to introduce anyone to another person.
• Good sportsmanship
• Leaving an out going message proficiently on an answering machine.
9-12 year olds
• Successfully complete a 5 course meal
• Set the table and how to "read" their silverware when they come to the table
• Know the basics of the menu prepared for them.
• Signal to the waiter that they are finished with their meal
• Thank you note writing
13-17 years olds (as well as all of the above)
• Can negotiate an 8 course meal if necessary
• Good posture
• Know introductions well (handshake, eye contact, proper greeting)
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Thursday, October 18, 2007
My Mothers Face
Like so many other things, fall always reminds me of my mother, since we shared the same fall birthday. This appeared in Chicken Soup for the Soul Celebrates Mothers and Daughters.
I’ve heard it all my life, “You look just like your mother.” Not that I minded it. With red hair and “Wine with Everything” lipstick, Mama was as glamorous as a 1950’s movie star. Though I’ve never been the glamorous type, there was no denying I had my mother’s face—minus the lipstick.
Throughout her life, I observed an array of emotions on that face. When I was small, my mother’s face often wore a wrinkled brow, reflecting her fast paced determination to meet all the demands of caring for eight kids. As I grew older, her face revealed worry over problematic adolescents or my dad’s unpredictable antics.
When I was a teenager, my mother’s face mirrored her quick wit. Though I was never rebellious, I still thought myself pretty clever, and I certainly knew more than my mother did. At a very naïve sixteen, I came home from my waitressing job and handed her a napkin on which a boy had written his phone number and invited me out on a date. “What do you think of this?” I asked, pleased that someone from school would find me attractive. Her eyebrows arched as she tossed it back to me. “Use if for toilet paper,” she quipped.
As a wife, I intentionally sought to wear my mother’s face. She had me—her eighth child—on her thirty-fifth birthday. I had seven children by the time I was thirty-five. During those years, my mother’s face beamed approval with each pregnancy announced. When everyone else was questioning my decision to have such a large family, I knew my mother would relish my news. After the arrival of each baby, my mother’s glowing face was always one of the first I saw.
When my mother got cancer, I briefly lost sight of the beauty of her face. Distracted by mottled skin and the loss of her lovely red hair, I grieved losing the mother I had always known. I mourned the inevitable altered course of life as this woman who managed her housework much like a Navy captain ran his ship now needed a walker to even saunter to the bathroom. As I trailed behind her to keep her steady, I reflected on how, without her hair, she had an uncanny resemblance to her own father. But during the months of caring for her, each time I drew eyebrows on her with pencil or assisted her with her lipstick, I began to see glimpses of my mother’s face. And—whether through turban fashion shows or outrageous bathroom jokes—when her sense of humor again shone like a lighthouse during the greatest trial of her life, I saw her face as I had never seen it—so steadfast, so strong.
As the inoperable tumor in my mother’s throat grew to the size of an orange, I watched desperation, panic and anxiety—but never surrender—govern her face. “Go forward,” she whispered with labored breath and raucous voice to the doctor’s inquiry of the next step to take. She had much to live for, and to the end she wore her game face.
I was with her the night a simple breathing treatment triggered coughing and her coughing evolved into choking. As I smashed the button to call the nurse, my mother’s face was pure fear. As she mouthed, “I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe!” and the nurses rushed me out of the room, the look on her face is something I will never forget—it is stamped in my mind like a terrible song stuck on repeat. Though she lived thirty-six more hours, she remained unconscious.
I wasn’t with my mother when she drew her last breath. Consequently, as I approached the doors of the funeral home, part of me feared seeing her lying lifeless in a casket. Then, as I crept toward her, I remembered her face. Deliberately ignoring her counterfeit hair that hid cancer’s scars, shunning her hands so gnarled from fighting cancer’s battle, I kept my eyes on her face.
The face that had guided me and given me strength. The face that personified determination both in life and in death. The face that I had always been told I had, but knew I could never have, really. As long as I live I will never quit trying to wear my mother’s face.
I’ve heard it all my life, “You look just like your mother.” Not that I minded it. With red hair and “Wine with Everything” lipstick, Mama was as glamorous as a 1950’s movie star. Though I’ve never been the glamorous type, there was no denying I had my mother’s face—minus the lipstick.
Throughout her life, I observed an array of emotions on that face. When I was small, my mother’s face often wore a wrinkled brow, reflecting her fast paced determination to meet all the demands of caring for eight kids. As I grew older, her face revealed worry over problematic adolescents or my dad’s unpredictable antics.
When I was a teenager, my mother’s face mirrored her quick wit. Though I was never rebellious, I still thought myself pretty clever, and I certainly knew more than my mother did. At a very naïve sixteen, I came home from my waitressing job and handed her a napkin on which a boy had written his phone number and invited me out on a date. “What do you think of this?” I asked, pleased that someone from school would find me attractive. Her eyebrows arched as she tossed it back to me. “Use if for toilet paper,” she quipped.
As a wife, I intentionally sought to wear my mother’s face. She had me—her eighth child—on her thirty-fifth birthday. I had seven children by the time I was thirty-five. During those years, my mother’s face beamed approval with each pregnancy announced. When everyone else was questioning my decision to have such a large family, I knew my mother would relish my news. After the arrival of each baby, my mother’s glowing face was always one of the first I saw.
When my mother got cancer, I briefly lost sight of the beauty of her face. Distracted by mottled skin and the loss of her lovely red hair, I grieved losing the mother I had always known. I mourned the inevitable altered course of life as this woman who managed her housework much like a Navy captain ran his ship now needed a walker to even saunter to the bathroom. As I trailed behind her to keep her steady, I reflected on how, without her hair, she had an uncanny resemblance to her own father. But during the months of caring for her, each time I drew eyebrows on her with pencil or assisted her with her lipstick, I began to see glimpses of my mother’s face. And—whether through turban fashion shows or outrageous bathroom jokes—when her sense of humor again shone like a lighthouse during the greatest trial of her life, I saw her face as I had never seen it—so steadfast, so strong.
As the inoperable tumor in my mother’s throat grew to the size of an orange, I watched desperation, panic and anxiety—but never surrender—govern her face. “Go forward,” she whispered with labored breath and raucous voice to the doctor’s inquiry of the next step to take. She had much to live for, and to the end she wore her game face.
I was with her the night a simple breathing treatment triggered coughing and her coughing evolved into choking. As I smashed the button to call the nurse, my mother’s face was pure fear. As she mouthed, “I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe!” and the nurses rushed me out of the room, the look on her face is something I will never forget—it is stamped in my mind like a terrible song stuck on repeat. Though she lived thirty-six more hours, she remained unconscious.
I wasn’t with my mother when she drew her last breath. Consequently, as I approached the doors of the funeral home, part of me feared seeing her lying lifeless in a casket. Then, as I crept toward her, I remembered her face. Deliberately ignoring her counterfeit hair that hid cancer’s scars, shunning her hands so gnarled from fighting cancer’s battle, I kept my eyes on her face.
The face that had guided me and given me strength. The face that personified determination both in life and in death. The face that I had always been told I had, but knew I could never have, really. As long as I live I will never quit trying to wear my mother’s face.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Angels In Our Midst
I was amazed at the way this young woman was touching the lives of children. We all need such a person in our lives when tragedy strikes. This appeared in Memphis Parent in 2003.
When Angela Hamblin got her first job working with terminally ill children at a camp in Eustice, Florida, it was love at first sight. She tried other areas in social work such as drug and alcohol rehab and is filled with admiration for those who champion the cause. But Angela knew from the start that children were her passion.
As a Bereavement Supervisor for Hospice at Baptist Trinity Healthcare, Angela focuses on helping her terminally ill patients cope with pain and grief. When it came to helping the children left behind, however, she felt neither she nor they had anywhere to turn. After pulling community resources and receiving a grant from Baptist Memorial Hospital, Camp Good Grief was born, equipping Angela to fulfill her passion of reaching hurting children.
Jessicagrace DeVries, 9, is just one of the many children who have been touched by Angela. After losing her father, George, to brain cancer when she was seven, Jessicagrace began to internalize her grief. “Now I know it is okay to cry because of what Angela taught me at Camp Good Grief,” says Jessicagrace, who found her release in writing a letter to her father and sending it up in a balloon during camp. “Each person took turns letting go,” she adds, “and at first I didn’t want anyone to see me cry, but then Angela was there with me, and I knew it was okay.”
“God sent Angela to us when we were going through the deepest sadness of our lives,” says Jessicagrace’s mother, Sandy. “She saw things I couldn’t see, wrapping her arms around my daughter and reaching her in a way that I couldn’t because I was dealing with my own grief.”
Angela encourages children to get comfortable with grief, in essence redefining the meaning of the word. “By naming the camp “Good Grief” we are trying to communicate that grief is part of the healing process, and that is a very healthy thing.”
And how did Angela become so comfortable with grief that she could make it her full time job? “People can’t believe I do what I do,” says Angela, “but I just respond by stressing that we all have different gifts.
That’s just what an angel would say.
When Angela Hamblin got her first job working with terminally ill children at a camp in Eustice, Florida, it was love at first sight. She tried other areas in social work such as drug and alcohol rehab and is filled with admiration for those who champion the cause. But Angela knew from the start that children were her passion.
As a Bereavement Supervisor for Hospice at Baptist Trinity Healthcare, Angela focuses on helping her terminally ill patients cope with pain and grief. When it came to helping the children left behind, however, she felt neither she nor they had anywhere to turn. After pulling community resources and receiving a grant from Baptist Memorial Hospital, Camp Good Grief was born, equipping Angela to fulfill her passion of reaching hurting children.
Jessicagrace DeVries, 9, is just one of the many children who have been touched by Angela. After losing her father, George, to brain cancer when she was seven, Jessicagrace began to internalize her grief. “Now I know it is okay to cry because of what Angela taught me at Camp Good Grief,” says Jessicagrace, who found her release in writing a letter to her father and sending it up in a balloon during camp. “Each person took turns letting go,” she adds, “and at first I didn’t want anyone to see me cry, but then Angela was there with me, and I knew it was okay.”
“God sent Angela to us when we were going through the deepest sadness of our lives,” says Jessicagrace’s mother, Sandy. “She saw things I couldn’t see, wrapping her arms around my daughter and reaching her in a way that I couldn’t because I was dealing with my own grief.”
Angela encourages children to get comfortable with grief, in essence redefining the meaning of the word. “By naming the camp “Good Grief” we are trying to communicate that grief is part of the healing process, and that is a very healthy thing.”
And how did Angela become so comfortable with grief that she could make it her full time job? “People can’t believe I do what I do,” says Angela, “but I just respond by stressing that we all have different gifts.
That’s just what an angel would say.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Blessings In Disguise
I was never able to publish this piece, but thought it might bring a chuckle, nonethelss. Hard to believe I've had four more kids since I wrote this. It is good to go back and remember.
I had a rare and unusual experience last week: all five of my children gobbled down dinner (chicken and dumplings was the strategy, in case you’re wondering) and four of them even asked for seconds! Then (and this is the clincher) I heard echoes of “Great dinner, Mom!” It was truly a red letter dining experience. Now, usually, when attempting a home made meal, I receive moans and groans from at least half the crowd. But let me open a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese and I’m an instant hero. Life with kids. Unpredictable, isn’t it? And with such a variety at my house, every moment brings something to make me laugh...or cry.
Just the other day I was having a proud moment (for a moment) as my eldest three were busy doing their chores. Matching socks, endless socks, cleaning mirrors, folding towels. I was proud of those hard workers. Then six-year-old Matthew piped up. “Mom,” he said innocently, “if you would do some chores, too, the house would stay a lot cleaner.” Where has this kid been?
Eleven-year-old Tiger (a nick name, of course) spotted a pair of his socks in the garbage while he was taking out the trash. “Don’t throw away those socks!” he said vehemently as he held up some once white socks with colossal holes both in the heels and the toes. “Those are great socks! They have A/C!” As long as it’s his job to take out the garbage, I have to be more careful about what I leave in there.
Then there’s Ben, who at three is not quite out of his (wonderful) terrible two’s yet. And right behind him little curly, red-headed Mary Katherine, who at one (God bless her) has not quite reached her terrible two’s. But I know they’re coming.
But in between the dinners and the diapers and the eternal terrible two’s are those moments that capture a mother’s heart. The marriage proposals I’ve received from my sons, for instance, or having coffee with Bethany, who at age nine adores the stuff as much as I do. (Don’t worry, our coffee’s together are rare).
It’s these moments, though, that remind me that the greatest blessings I’ll ever know in this life are disguised behind those finicky, wrinkled up noses seated each night around my dinner table.
I had a rare and unusual experience last week: all five of my children gobbled down dinner (chicken and dumplings was the strategy, in case you’re wondering) and four of them even asked for seconds! Then (and this is the clincher) I heard echoes of “Great dinner, Mom!” It was truly a red letter dining experience. Now, usually, when attempting a home made meal, I receive moans and groans from at least half the crowd. But let me open a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese and I’m an instant hero. Life with kids. Unpredictable, isn’t it? And with such a variety at my house, every moment brings something to make me laugh...or cry.
Just the other day I was having a proud moment (for a moment) as my eldest three were busy doing their chores. Matching socks, endless socks, cleaning mirrors, folding towels. I was proud of those hard workers. Then six-year-old Matthew piped up. “Mom,” he said innocently, “if you would do some chores, too, the house would stay a lot cleaner.” Where has this kid been?
Eleven-year-old Tiger (a nick name, of course) spotted a pair of his socks in the garbage while he was taking out the trash. “Don’t throw away those socks!” he said vehemently as he held up some once white socks with colossal holes both in the heels and the toes. “Those are great socks! They have A/C!” As long as it’s his job to take out the garbage, I have to be more careful about what I leave in there.
Then there’s Ben, who at three is not quite out of his (wonderful) terrible two’s yet. And right behind him little curly, red-headed Mary Katherine, who at one (God bless her) has not quite reached her terrible two’s. But I know they’re coming.
But in between the dinners and the diapers and the eternal terrible two’s are those moments that capture a mother’s heart. The marriage proposals I’ve received from my sons, for instance, or having coffee with Bethany, who at age nine adores the stuff as much as I do. (Don’t worry, our coffee’s together are rare).
It’s these moments, though, that remind me that the greatest blessings I’ll ever know in this life are disguised behind those finicky, wrinkled up noses seated each night around my dinner table.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Hiring a Mothers Helper
I managed to get to the grocery store by myself today but did spot a mom with three wailing preschoolers. I remember those days (and am still in them, in fact). But my discovery this year of a Mother's Helper has changed my life, so I wanted to share it. Conclusion: A little help goes a long way.
This piece appeared in the June, 2007, issue of Memphis Parent.
“Mrs. Sims,” my babysitter piped up while I was writing her a check after a recent dinner out, “I charge $5 an hour for babysitting, but I only charge $2 an hour for being a Mother’s Helper.” While I was a little sketchy on what a Mother’s Helper was, I did know one thing: Clare was hired. After all, with my ninth (yes, ninth) child soon to arrive, I had been pondering an affordable way to make it all work. A Mother’s Helper seemed a good place to start. As of this writing, I have just completed my first week of having a Mother’s Helper, and I wonder how I’ve managed without her. She falls somewhere between a big sister and Maria Von Trapp, and her presence changes the whole dynamic of our household. Whether you’re a stay at home or a mom who works outside the home, here are some guidelines to help you find that extra pair of hands.
Make your expectations clear. Clare’s first week took place the last week of February, during my kids’ winter break (a much anticipated time off here in Vermont). A few weeks before she came, I sent her a note via email as a friendly guideline of what my expectations were and when she would be paid (at the end of every week). Every morning when she arrived, I briefed her on the day’s agenda.
What a MH does. As the saying goes, you have to inspect what you expect. Good advice, but I often fail to follow up on my kids’ responsibilities. Consequently, this is one area I knew I needed my MH’s assistance. I give her a list of my children’s chores, and she oversees them, making sure they are done completely. ·
What a MH doesn’t do. It is important to remember that a Mother’s Helper is not a housekeeper, cook or maid. I am certain if I had my MH cleaning bathrooms and doing laundry instead of the hands-on activities with the kids, everyone in the house would be frustrated.
Find a good fit. Make sure your choice for a MH is compatible not only with your children but also with you. While a confident MH is a plus, an over-confident helper is a minus. Remember this is not usually a sitter, so it needs to be someone with whom you are compatible; someone who works with you more than for you. (Though I have found that having a Mother’s Helper who is also old enough to baby-sit when I need her to is a real advantage.)
In case of a misfit. If you’re unsure about your choice for a MH, do a trial-run (without necessarily telling her it’s a trial run) to find out if the fit is a good one. If you find success during the initial period (success being defined as when the positives outweigh the negatives) offer your Mother’s Helper a long-term job.
Working out the particulars. When Clare completes one week I give her a head’s up for the next week, so she can check her schedule. I pay at week’s end, and, just so we’re clear, I make sure to write out an invoice showing her hours and pay rate. Though her mom offered to bring her over and pick her up every day (she lives just down the street), I arrange our outings so that I can drop her off on the way home whenever possible.
Be flexible. As our first week together progressed, I decided to switch from a list of structured chores to “seven minutes of cleanup” where all the kids get as much done as they can in seven minutes. The kids seem to respond to this better than having Clare oversee their chores. Inspection, I concluded, is still up to me, and that’s as it should be.
Addressing discipline issues. She handles spats, while bigger issues are brought to my attention. Either way, I’ve made it clear to my kids: Even though I’m home, Clare is also in charge. One word of caution: Age difference between your children and your MH is something to keep in mind. While I made it clear both to my kids and to my MH that she is in charge of my kids ages 10 and under, I made it just as clear that my almost 12 year old won’t need her supervision like my younger kids do.
Having a Mother’s Helper has made me a better mother. Thanks to Clare’s presence, my kids read more, watched less TV and tried new crafts, and I have thoroughly scolded myself for waiting until my ninth child is on the way to find that extra pair of hands. Her presence this week has taken the edge off of being a stay at home mom. As summer approaches, I know that even with a new baby in a house already bustling with activity, this ship will keep running. After all, help is on the way.
Sidebar: Snapshot of the first week
Monday 9-12 Since they already know her as our babysitter, the younger kids shriek with excitement when she arrives. She immediately gets to work: takes them sledding, fixes lunch, bakes and decorates cookies, and plays games. Our first day was a huge success, and the kids beg her to stay longer.
Tuesday 9-12 Since the kids had their fill of sledding yesterday, Clare paints their faces, unbothered that we have three extra guests today, as I am sitting for a friend (she also refuses the bonus I offer her for the additional kids, which I pay her anyway). I leave for a while to go to the doctor (during which time her pay increases) and find her fixing lunch for everyone when I return. Before she leaves, she offers to stay the whole day on Thursday or Friday. I know immediately I will take her up on it.
Wednesday 9-12 Today after a sock-matching marathon for the eighteen feet in our house followed by Shrinky-Dink ® fun, Clare accompanies us to the library where we swap out supervising my two-year-old and helping my older children find books. On the way home I drive through McDonald’s for lunch, and Clare offers (twice) to have the cost of her meal deducted from her pay. “No way,” I remind her, “that is just one of the perks of being my Mother’s Helper.”
Thursday 9-3 Since this is the day of Clare’s extended hours, I decide to take a rare solo shopping trip. I call to check in and find my youngest son has thrown a tantrum over sharing his snowboard. She reassures me that she handled it, though, and I vow to talk to him when I get home. Though the house is a little messy upon my arrival, I declare a “seven-minute-clean up” and order is restored. I note that Clare helps the kids clean up without being asked.
Friday 9-1 Clare may go skiing with her family today, but a snowstorm brings a change of plans, and my husband notices my change in mood (and energy level) the minute I get a call saying she is coming after all. After she takes them sledding, I fix lunch while she reads Little Women to the kids—something I can never seem to get around to doing. When it’s time for her to leave, the kids ask when she is coming back. She’ll be back, I reassure them. That I can promise.
This piece appeared in the June, 2007, issue of Memphis Parent.
“Mrs. Sims,” my babysitter piped up while I was writing her a check after a recent dinner out, “I charge $5 an hour for babysitting, but I only charge $2 an hour for being a Mother’s Helper.” While I was a little sketchy on what a Mother’s Helper was, I did know one thing: Clare was hired. After all, with my ninth (yes, ninth) child soon to arrive, I had been pondering an affordable way to make it all work. A Mother’s Helper seemed a good place to start. As of this writing, I have just completed my first week of having a Mother’s Helper, and I wonder how I’ve managed without her. She falls somewhere between a big sister and Maria Von Trapp, and her presence changes the whole dynamic of our household. Whether you’re a stay at home or a mom who works outside the home, here are some guidelines to help you find that extra pair of hands.
Make your expectations clear. Clare’s first week took place the last week of February, during my kids’ winter break (a much anticipated time off here in Vermont). A few weeks before she came, I sent her a note via email as a friendly guideline of what my expectations were and when she would be paid (at the end of every week). Every morning when she arrived, I briefed her on the day’s agenda.
What a MH does. As the saying goes, you have to inspect what you expect. Good advice, but I often fail to follow up on my kids’ responsibilities. Consequently, this is one area I knew I needed my MH’s assistance. I give her a list of my children’s chores, and she oversees them, making sure they are done completely. ·
What a MH doesn’t do. It is important to remember that a Mother’s Helper is not a housekeeper, cook or maid. I am certain if I had my MH cleaning bathrooms and doing laundry instead of the hands-on activities with the kids, everyone in the house would be frustrated.
Find a good fit. Make sure your choice for a MH is compatible not only with your children but also with you. While a confident MH is a plus, an over-confident helper is a minus. Remember this is not usually a sitter, so it needs to be someone with whom you are compatible; someone who works with you more than for you. (Though I have found that having a Mother’s Helper who is also old enough to baby-sit when I need her to is a real advantage.)
In case of a misfit. If you’re unsure about your choice for a MH, do a trial-run (without necessarily telling her it’s a trial run) to find out if the fit is a good one. If you find success during the initial period (success being defined as when the positives outweigh the negatives) offer your Mother’s Helper a long-term job.
Working out the particulars. When Clare completes one week I give her a head’s up for the next week, so she can check her schedule. I pay at week’s end, and, just so we’re clear, I make sure to write out an invoice showing her hours and pay rate. Though her mom offered to bring her over and pick her up every day (she lives just down the street), I arrange our outings so that I can drop her off on the way home whenever possible.
Be flexible. As our first week together progressed, I decided to switch from a list of structured chores to “seven minutes of cleanup” where all the kids get as much done as they can in seven minutes. The kids seem to respond to this better than having Clare oversee their chores. Inspection, I concluded, is still up to me, and that’s as it should be.
Addressing discipline issues. She handles spats, while bigger issues are brought to my attention. Either way, I’ve made it clear to my kids: Even though I’m home, Clare is also in charge. One word of caution: Age difference between your children and your MH is something to keep in mind. While I made it clear both to my kids and to my MH that she is in charge of my kids ages 10 and under, I made it just as clear that my almost 12 year old won’t need her supervision like my younger kids do.
Having a Mother’s Helper has made me a better mother. Thanks to Clare’s presence, my kids read more, watched less TV and tried new crafts, and I have thoroughly scolded myself for waiting until my ninth child is on the way to find that extra pair of hands. Her presence this week has taken the edge off of being a stay at home mom. As summer approaches, I know that even with a new baby in a house already bustling with activity, this ship will keep running. After all, help is on the way.
Sidebar: Snapshot of the first week
Monday 9-12 Since they already know her as our babysitter, the younger kids shriek with excitement when she arrives. She immediately gets to work: takes them sledding, fixes lunch, bakes and decorates cookies, and plays games. Our first day was a huge success, and the kids beg her to stay longer.
Tuesday 9-12 Since the kids had their fill of sledding yesterday, Clare paints their faces, unbothered that we have three extra guests today, as I am sitting for a friend (she also refuses the bonus I offer her for the additional kids, which I pay her anyway). I leave for a while to go to the doctor (during which time her pay increases) and find her fixing lunch for everyone when I return. Before she leaves, she offers to stay the whole day on Thursday or Friday. I know immediately I will take her up on it.
Wednesday 9-12 Today after a sock-matching marathon for the eighteen feet in our house followed by Shrinky-Dink ® fun, Clare accompanies us to the library where we swap out supervising my two-year-old and helping my older children find books. On the way home I drive through McDonald’s for lunch, and Clare offers (twice) to have the cost of her meal deducted from her pay. “No way,” I remind her, “that is just one of the perks of being my Mother’s Helper.”
Thursday 9-3 Since this is the day of Clare’s extended hours, I decide to take a rare solo shopping trip. I call to check in and find my youngest son has thrown a tantrum over sharing his snowboard. She reassures me that she handled it, though, and I vow to talk to him when I get home. Though the house is a little messy upon my arrival, I declare a “seven-minute-clean up” and order is restored. I note that Clare helps the kids clean up without being asked.
Friday 9-1 Clare may go skiing with her family today, but a snowstorm brings a change of plans, and my husband notices my change in mood (and energy level) the minute I get a call saying she is coming after all. After she takes them sledding, I fix lunch while she reads Little Women to the kids—something I can never seem to get around to doing. When it’s time for her to leave, the kids ask when she is coming back. She’ll be back, I reassure them. That I can promise.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Cooking With Kids
With fall in the air, I begin to think of baking with my kids--which can be a real pain, I admit. This appeared both in Focus on Your Child and later in Memphis Parent.
“May I be the stirrer?” my four-year-old squealed when she saw me cracking the eggs at breakfast. I held the bowl low, guiding her hand with mine to demonstrate before letting her have a go at it herself. She then skipped away, her culinary curiosity satisfied. On the whole, the process added an additional 45 seconds to my cook time.
I know from experience that my daughter was not the only four year old asking to help in the kitchen this morning. The thought of cooking with young children, however, is enough to cause any parent to approach the kitchen like a spy on a mission. If that is often the case at your house, follow these clues, call in reinforcements (i.e.: your kids) and create memories that will linger long after both the mission and the dishes are done.
Educate
Cooking is an essential part of life that, like it or not, we all need to know how to do, stresses Marianne Dambra, founder of Kidsrcooking.com. Dambra, who teaches “Cool Cooking” workshops for parents and kids around the country, urges parents to focus on the variety of skills involved in cooking—math, science, reading, cooperation and problem solving, to name a few. “When it comes to cooking,” she adds, “we must ask ourselves not what a child learns, but what doesn’t a child learn? That's why cooking with children is so important.”
Anticipate
Probably the number one thing that keeps parents from cooking with kids is the inevitable mess that will accompany the cooking lesson. Laura Hatcher, Covington, Tennessee, mother of five, says that anticipating the mess helps alleviate frustration. By simply reminding herself that her kids are going to be messy, Hatcher says, she is ready to accept it from the beginning.
Starting with simple recipes is one “less mess” strategy parents can use. Playdough is a good starter, in addition to recipes such as pudding or frozen orange juice concentrate in which no cooking is required. If you’re in the kitchen with spoons and bowls and ingredients, in a child’s mind, you’re cooking.
Celebrate
While parents may anticipate the mess, kids will anticipate the fun. Again, parents should simplify to help keep the stress level at a minimum. For those who have to work at having fun when kids are in the kitchen, opting for short cuts is one way to cut stress. Whether kids are slicing refrigerated cookie dough or adding toppings to ready-made pizza crusts, getting a glimpse of the grown up world is what makes cooking such a celebration in the mind of a child. But parents needn’t save cooking with children merely for cookie baking or pizza topping but rather use the cooking opportunity to encourage their kids to broaden their horizons and try new foods.
Motivate
For Sue Wynn, teacher at St. Louis School and mother of Dino and Mario Grissanti of Memphis, Tennessee, restaurant fame, fun quickly turned to inspiration. “From the time the boys were very young they would help me at home with the baking or rolling out dough,” says Wynn, “then as they got older, they wore the aprons and waited tables at the restaurant.” The inspiration they found in the kitchen as children has carried over into adulthood, as both boys pursued culinary careers.
Even if your kids don’t grow up to be chefs, regular exposure to food preparation is still valuable. Wendy Owen, Knoxville mother of two, finds her children gain a sense of pride and joy when they are able to help shop for and prepare meals. Even very young children can check off a list, help weigh and wash vegetables and set the table.
Initiate
It is important for parents to identify what hampers them from cooking with their children. Some parents, for instance, may not trust their kids around kitchen tools. Instead of keeping tools off limits, however, parents could instead take the initiative and incorporate kitchen safety into the cooking session.
Most parents testify it is difficult to find the time and energy to enter the kitchen with kids. In just a few designated hours, however, what began as bothersome will evolve into beneficial for parents who stay on task. The key is to capture their interest while they’re at their peak of enthusiasm—usually age 8 or 9—and foster it so they can grow more independent in the kitchen. With a little organization and forethought, kids and parents will exit the (clean) kitchen with the same satisfying assumption in mind: mission accomplished.
Sidebar: Tips for cooking with kids (Source: kidsrcooking.com)
• Don't worry about the end product
• Remember: The less you do the more the children will learn and retain
• It does not take a lot of equipment or a real kitchen to cook
• Choose foolproof recipes for your first cooking activity such as orange juice or playdough
• The rewards will outnumber hassles in cooking
• Have the children be a part of everything -- setup, cooking, cleanup, etc.
• Not all recipes need to be baked or cooked
Remember, have fun!
Sidebar: Sources for Cooking with Kids
• Forty Carrots 4690 Spottswood Ave. Audubon Place Shopping Center A gourmet cooking supply store, offers classes in Christmas cookie magic November 3, 10-12:30 6835187
• Kidsrcooking.com Founder Marianne Dambra’s whimsical website merits a visit. A surplus of ideas and recipes plus descriptions of a variety of workshops for parents and children (toddlers through school age).
• Kids’ Culinary & Chef Noni A program that fosters the safety of cooking, making memories, manners and clean up. Call Dino at 278-9127 to schedule.
• University of Memphis Continuing Education 678-6000. Tentative cooking classes are planned for 2002. Look for new catalogue in the January 6 edition of The Commercial Appeal.
Sidebar: Kid-Friendly Recipes (Source: Bonnie Roelofs)
FRENCH BANANAS WITH CREAM
¼ cup butter
¼ cup brown sugar
¼ tsp. cinnamon
¼ tsp. nutmeg
½ cup half-and-half
5-6 firm bananas, halved lengthwise and crosswise
whipped cream for garnish
Melt butter in a large skillet. Stir in brown sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg. Stir in half-and-half and cook until slightly thickened. Add bananas to skillet; heat for 2-3 minutes, spooning sauce over them. To serve, place 2 banana pieces with a little sauce for each serving, and top with a dollop of whipped cream.
CHICKEN HOT POCKETS
2 cup cooked chicken, chopped
1 3-oz. pkg. cream cheese, softened
2 tbsp. milk
1 tbsp. diced chives, optional
salt to taste
2 8-oz. refrigerated crescent rolls
½ cup seasoned bread crumbs, crushed
¼ cup melted butter or margarine
Mix together chicken, cream cheese, milk, chives and salt for filling. Preheat oven to 350. Unroll crescent rolls; each tube will contain 4 rectangles of dough with a diagonal perforation. Press dough along each perforation so the rectangle halves will not separate. Place about ¼ cup of chicken mixture into the center of each rectangle. Fold dough over the filling and pinch the edges to seal tightly, or crimp with a fork. Brush each pocket with melted butter and coat with bread crumbs. Place pockets on a baking sheet and bake for 20 minutes or until golden brown. Makes 8.
Bonnie Roelofs, a U of M Continuing Ed. instructor, encourages parents to allow children to experience small culinary victories at first. Simple steps such as stirring, pouring or holding the mixer are great confidence builders. Roelofs stresses the importance of parents including children in the things they are going to do anyway in order to educate and equip them with this basic life skill.
“May I be the stirrer?” my four-year-old squealed when she saw me cracking the eggs at breakfast. I held the bowl low, guiding her hand with mine to demonstrate before letting her have a go at it herself. She then skipped away, her culinary curiosity satisfied. On the whole, the process added an additional 45 seconds to my cook time.
I know from experience that my daughter was not the only four year old asking to help in the kitchen this morning. The thought of cooking with young children, however, is enough to cause any parent to approach the kitchen like a spy on a mission. If that is often the case at your house, follow these clues, call in reinforcements (i.e.: your kids) and create memories that will linger long after both the mission and the dishes are done.
Educate
Cooking is an essential part of life that, like it or not, we all need to know how to do, stresses Marianne Dambra, founder of Kidsrcooking.com. Dambra, who teaches “Cool Cooking” workshops for parents and kids around the country, urges parents to focus on the variety of skills involved in cooking—math, science, reading, cooperation and problem solving, to name a few. “When it comes to cooking,” she adds, “we must ask ourselves not what a child learns, but what doesn’t a child learn? That's why cooking with children is so important.”
Anticipate
Probably the number one thing that keeps parents from cooking with kids is the inevitable mess that will accompany the cooking lesson. Laura Hatcher, Covington, Tennessee, mother of five, says that anticipating the mess helps alleviate frustration. By simply reminding herself that her kids are going to be messy, Hatcher says, she is ready to accept it from the beginning.
Starting with simple recipes is one “less mess” strategy parents can use. Playdough is a good starter, in addition to recipes such as pudding or frozen orange juice concentrate in which no cooking is required. If you’re in the kitchen with spoons and bowls and ingredients, in a child’s mind, you’re cooking.
Celebrate
While parents may anticipate the mess, kids will anticipate the fun. Again, parents should simplify to help keep the stress level at a minimum. For those who have to work at having fun when kids are in the kitchen, opting for short cuts is one way to cut stress. Whether kids are slicing refrigerated cookie dough or adding toppings to ready-made pizza crusts, getting a glimpse of the grown up world is what makes cooking such a celebration in the mind of a child. But parents needn’t save cooking with children merely for cookie baking or pizza topping but rather use the cooking opportunity to encourage their kids to broaden their horizons and try new foods.
Motivate
For Sue Wynn, teacher at St. Louis School and mother of Dino and Mario Grissanti of Memphis, Tennessee, restaurant fame, fun quickly turned to inspiration. “From the time the boys were very young they would help me at home with the baking or rolling out dough,” says Wynn, “then as they got older, they wore the aprons and waited tables at the restaurant.” The inspiration they found in the kitchen as children has carried over into adulthood, as both boys pursued culinary careers.
Even if your kids don’t grow up to be chefs, regular exposure to food preparation is still valuable. Wendy Owen, Knoxville mother of two, finds her children gain a sense of pride and joy when they are able to help shop for and prepare meals. Even very young children can check off a list, help weigh and wash vegetables and set the table.
Initiate
It is important for parents to identify what hampers them from cooking with their children. Some parents, for instance, may not trust their kids around kitchen tools. Instead of keeping tools off limits, however, parents could instead take the initiative and incorporate kitchen safety into the cooking session.
Most parents testify it is difficult to find the time and energy to enter the kitchen with kids. In just a few designated hours, however, what began as bothersome will evolve into beneficial for parents who stay on task. The key is to capture their interest while they’re at their peak of enthusiasm—usually age 8 or 9—and foster it so they can grow more independent in the kitchen. With a little organization and forethought, kids and parents will exit the (clean) kitchen with the same satisfying assumption in mind: mission accomplished.
Sidebar: Tips for cooking with kids (Source: kidsrcooking.com)
• Don't worry about the end product
• Remember: The less you do the more the children will learn and retain
• It does not take a lot of equipment or a real kitchen to cook
• Choose foolproof recipes for your first cooking activity such as orange juice or playdough
• The rewards will outnumber hassles in cooking
• Have the children be a part of everything -- setup, cooking, cleanup, etc.
• Not all recipes need to be baked or cooked
Remember, have fun!
Sidebar: Sources for Cooking with Kids
• Forty Carrots 4690 Spottswood Ave. Audubon Place Shopping Center A gourmet cooking supply store, offers classes in Christmas cookie magic November 3, 10-12:30 6835187
• Kidsrcooking.com Founder Marianne Dambra’s whimsical website merits a visit. A surplus of ideas and recipes plus descriptions of a variety of workshops for parents and children (toddlers through school age).
• Kids’ Culinary & Chef Noni A program that fosters the safety of cooking, making memories, manners and clean up. Call Dino at 278-9127 to schedule.
• University of Memphis Continuing Education 678-6000. Tentative cooking classes are planned for 2002. Look for new catalogue in the January 6 edition of The Commercial Appeal.
Sidebar: Kid-Friendly Recipes (Source: Bonnie Roelofs)
FRENCH BANANAS WITH CREAM
¼ cup butter
¼ cup brown sugar
¼ tsp. cinnamon
¼ tsp. nutmeg
½ cup half-and-half
5-6 firm bananas, halved lengthwise and crosswise
whipped cream for garnish
Melt butter in a large skillet. Stir in brown sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg. Stir in half-and-half and cook until slightly thickened. Add bananas to skillet; heat for 2-3 minutes, spooning sauce over them. To serve, place 2 banana pieces with a little sauce for each serving, and top with a dollop of whipped cream.
CHICKEN HOT POCKETS
2 cup cooked chicken, chopped
1 3-oz. pkg. cream cheese, softened
2 tbsp. milk
1 tbsp. diced chives, optional
salt to taste
2 8-oz. refrigerated crescent rolls
½ cup seasoned bread crumbs, crushed
¼ cup melted butter or margarine
Mix together chicken, cream cheese, milk, chives and salt for filling. Preheat oven to 350. Unroll crescent rolls; each tube will contain 4 rectangles of dough with a diagonal perforation. Press dough along each perforation so the rectangle halves will not separate. Place about ¼ cup of chicken mixture into the center of each rectangle. Fold dough over the filling and pinch the edges to seal tightly, or crimp with a fork. Brush each pocket with melted butter and coat with bread crumbs. Place pockets on a baking sheet and bake for 20 minutes or until golden brown. Makes 8.
Bonnie Roelofs, a U of M Continuing Ed. instructor, encourages parents to allow children to experience small culinary victories at first. Simple steps such as stirring, pouring or holding the mixer are great confidence builders. Roelofs stresses the importance of parents including children in the things they are going to do anyway in order to educate and equip them with this basic life skill.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Book Review Why Is My Baby Crying
The new MOPS year started up again yesterday. (MOPS stands for Mothers of Preschoolers, a group to which I have a lifetime membership. A great organization; look them up at MOPS.com) It was babies, babies, everywhere. I've never had a colicky baby, thankfully (and miraculously, I might add) but seeing all those babies yesterday brought this book review I did for Memphis Parent in the fall of 2005 to mind.
Book Review: Why is My Baby Crying? by Dr. Barry Lester
It is estimated that some 20 percent or 800,000 of American born babies this year will have the symptoms of colic. But what are those symptoms and how are they best treated? Dr. Barry Lester, author of Why Is My Baby Crying? and founder of The Colic Clinic in Providence, Rhode Island, shares his latest research.
What led you to start The Colic Clinic?
My colleagues and I were studying crying and colic and, of course, in the process giving parents advice. I found myself caught between the two worlds of trying to do research, where you can’t really focus on treating the individual, and providing services. When we split the two components apart, creating a research program and a clinical service led us to start The Colic Clinic. It is part of the Infant Development Center (www.infantdevelopment.org) at Women & Infants Hospital in Providence, Rhode Island, and also part of the Brown Medical School.
What are some of the goals of The Colic Clinic?
Our goal here at The Colic Clinic is not only to treat the colicky infant, but also the entire family. First, for instance, parents need to know there are other families out there with colicky babies. Second, it is hard for parents to take care of their babies when their own needs are not being met. And we can’t forget the siblings, as colic really pervades the whole family. In fact, it is typical for everyone except baby with colic to be overlooked.
What are some of the ways you assess colic?
We begin with an assessment of the infant by using a colic symptom checklist, which tells us if there are other colic symptoms in addition to the baby’s crying. Also, we have the mother fill out diary to keep track of baby’s crying for several days. This allows us to target peaks and dips in crying times, offering the mother a clearer view of the situation. We also like to take some time to find out what is going on with the parents, as what we’ve seen is about 45% of the mothers who bring their babies to clinic suffer from depression. For this reason, all our patients are seen by pediatrician and mental health worker.
Name some of the misconceptions about crying babies.
There are many: colic is normal; it is due to inadequate mothering; parents are responsible; just ignore it and it will go away; it’s genetic; it has no impact. The list goes on and on. While crying is certainly part of normal development, the real issue is whether or not the crying has become problematic—either with the baby’s development or with the family’s well being. Understanding colic is so important because since it is the first disturbance where parenting is concerned, it will influence how you deal with the next problem, and the next, and so on, essentially creating a template for how you deal with future interactions with your child.
Discuss what it means to be crylingual.
When you understand how something works, you begin to feel more comfortable with it because it is less of a mystery. Becoming crylingual means that you come to understand your baby’s cry. Since crying is the baby’s first language, it is a parent’s job to learn that language. At The Colic Clinic, we study the cry primarily thru the sound, or the acoustics, of the cry. When the colic cry resembles a pain cry, for instance, that lets us know that the source of the crying is something coming from the child. A baby who is hungry will have a very different cry than a baby who is in pain.
Talk about a safe cry zone.
There’s a newsletter that about preventing child abuse that says, “Caring for your baby is not about stopping the crying. Caring for your baby is about coping with the crying.” Constant crying can result in failed infant-parent relationships, the ultimate failure of which is child abuse. Building a safe cry zone means knowing your own internal warning signs and triggers. If you can figure out your internal signs, you can forecast and then short circuit the process and prevent yourself from getting to a place you don’t want to be. Negative reactions are normal with colicky babies. Finding a safe cry zone helps legitimize and normalize these kinds of feelings. We like to help get parents of the hook so they can get on with job of parenting.
The Colic Clinic
Infant Development Center
Women & Infants Hospital of Rhode Island
101 Dudley Street
Providence, RI 02905-2499
Phone 401-453-7640
Fax 401-453-7646
www.colic-baby.com
For more information about research, clinical services or training/education: Barry_Lester@Brown.edu
Book Review: Why is My Baby Crying? by Dr. Barry Lester
It is estimated that some 20 percent or 800,000 of American born babies this year will have the symptoms of colic. But what are those symptoms and how are they best treated? Dr. Barry Lester, author of Why Is My Baby Crying? and founder of The Colic Clinic in Providence, Rhode Island, shares his latest research.
What led you to start The Colic Clinic?
My colleagues and I were studying crying and colic and, of course, in the process giving parents advice. I found myself caught between the two worlds of trying to do research, where you can’t really focus on treating the individual, and providing services. When we split the two components apart, creating a research program and a clinical service led us to start The Colic Clinic. It is part of the Infant Development Center (www.infantdevelopment.org) at Women & Infants Hospital in Providence, Rhode Island, and also part of the Brown Medical School.
What are some of the goals of The Colic Clinic?
Our goal here at The Colic Clinic is not only to treat the colicky infant, but also the entire family. First, for instance, parents need to know there are other families out there with colicky babies. Second, it is hard for parents to take care of their babies when their own needs are not being met. And we can’t forget the siblings, as colic really pervades the whole family. In fact, it is typical for everyone except baby with colic to be overlooked.
What are some of the ways you assess colic?
We begin with an assessment of the infant by using a colic symptom checklist, which tells us if there are other colic symptoms in addition to the baby’s crying. Also, we have the mother fill out diary to keep track of baby’s crying for several days. This allows us to target peaks and dips in crying times, offering the mother a clearer view of the situation. We also like to take some time to find out what is going on with the parents, as what we’ve seen is about 45% of the mothers who bring their babies to clinic suffer from depression. For this reason, all our patients are seen by pediatrician and mental health worker.
Name some of the misconceptions about crying babies.
There are many: colic is normal; it is due to inadequate mothering; parents are responsible; just ignore it and it will go away; it’s genetic; it has no impact. The list goes on and on. While crying is certainly part of normal development, the real issue is whether or not the crying has become problematic—either with the baby’s development or with the family’s well being. Understanding colic is so important because since it is the first disturbance where parenting is concerned, it will influence how you deal with the next problem, and the next, and so on, essentially creating a template for how you deal with future interactions with your child.
Discuss what it means to be crylingual.
When you understand how something works, you begin to feel more comfortable with it because it is less of a mystery. Becoming crylingual means that you come to understand your baby’s cry. Since crying is the baby’s first language, it is a parent’s job to learn that language. At The Colic Clinic, we study the cry primarily thru the sound, or the acoustics, of the cry. When the colic cry resembles a pain cry, for instance, that lets us know that the source of the crying is something coming from the child. A baby who is hungry will have a very different cry than a baby who is in pain.
Talk about a safe cry zone.
There’s a newsletter that about preventing child abuse that says, “Caring for your baby is not about stopping the crying. Caring for your baby is about coping with the crying.” Constant crying can result in failed infant-parent relationships, the ultimate failure of which is child abuse. Building a safe cry zone means knowing your own internal warning signs and triggers. If you can figure out your internal signs, you can forecast and then short circuit the process and prevent yourself from getting to a place you don’t want to be. Negative reactions are normal with colicky babies. Finding a safe cry zone helps legitimize and normalize these kinds of feelings. We like to help get parents of the hook so they can get on with job of parenting.
The Colic Clinic
Infant Development Center
Women & Infants Hospital of Rhode Island
101 Dudley Street
Providence, RI 02905-2499
Phone 401-453-7640
Fax 401-453-7646
www.colic-baby.com
For more information about research, clinical services or training/education: Barry_Lester@Brown.edu
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