Life Continued.

I’ve never believed that minds can be changed through social media when it comes to such heavy topics. Trying to change your opinion is the last thing that I’m fighting for (I pinky promise.) With all the buzz of defunding Planned Parenthood comes a whole lot of personal stories and I simply wanted to share mine.
I’ll try to keep a long story short.

I was eighteen years old and engaged to the love of my life. I had big plans to breeze through college, complete and publish my first novel, and continue on a glorious and simple road to my throne as a successful author.

I was in love, I was young, I was a dreamer, and I held the world in my hands.

One day, I walked into my doctor’s office to get on birth control as an extra precaution. My love had sworn up and down that he was sterile, but I figured that it was better to be safe than sorry.
I can’t much recall the walk from my doctor’s office to my car; I just remember feeling like the journey was so impossibly long.  I tried to keep my breathing steady, worrying that I would never make it to my vehicle in time before everyone watched me crumble. Before everyone shook their heads and clicked their tongues at me – the stupid, naïve girl who got herself pregnant.

Pregnant.

I sat against the hood of my car and I cried and cried. I let the panic rock me - because I deserved it. I remember touching my stomach and blinking away tears to get a better look, as if the thing that was inside of me might suddenly be visible now that I knew it was in there. As I drove to break the news to my not-so-sterile darling, I racked my brain for a solution. I had no clue what to do. I was only very certain that I was not ready for a child, I could not afford a child, and I had too many dreams and goals that would not wait for a child.

We discussed our options and abortion was mentioned.

It seemed that in that moment my heart, my brain, and every other part of me separated itself from my conscious thoughts. Every piece of who I was stepped back and held its breath.

Because I knew me.

Classroom debates, heated arguments, and careful conversations about my firm stand against the entire concept of abortion drifted through my mind.

But I knew what I wanted for myself.

One simple procedure. That’s all it would take. One simple procedure to resolve the problem and set me back on track to my dreams. I could continue life as a young, care-free, ambitious dreamer. I could keep my money for myself. I could live for myself and nobody else. I didn’t have to give my life away to a child. I didn’t have to sacrifice my body. I didn’t have to spend my hard-earned money on teeny, tiny baby shoes. Or pink ruffled dresses. Or mini baseball caps.
As I imagined all the things that I didn’t have to do, I began to wonder at all the things I would get to do. In an instant, I went from panicking, to wondering what my sweet baby would grow up to be. Would I have a girl or a boy? Would he be a gentlemen? Would she love ballet?

So many believe that in those very early stages, it doesn’t really exactly technically count as a literal, technical, real-ish life.  That’s odd to me – especially now – because I knew right then that there was an entirely separate life inside of me, just waiting to be lived. There was a future. A personality, strengths, weaknesses, likes, and dislikes. There was the first steps, the first day of school, the first sporting event. The first win and the first loss. A first kiss. A first love. A first heartbreak. There were dreams and goals and accomplishments just waiting to take place.

But one simple procedure. . .

That’s all it would take to keep an entire life from being lived. One simple procedure would take away the love, the trials, and the impact of one person. I knew immediately that I did not have the right or the authority to make the decision to prevent an entire future. Even more so, I knew that I could never keep my very own child from experiencing the joys and thrills that this world and this life had to offer.

Mere seconds had passed since abortion had been mentioned, but I resurfaced from my thoughts as if I had already spent a lifetime with my sweet little baby. In just seconds, that life had already changed mine. . .

Months later, Melody was born.

 Life continued.

It wasn’t easy – still isn’t! As I stepped into the world of a solo-parent, it became even more difficult. Parenting is stressful and messy and wonderful and unbelievably gratifying. Becoming a parent makes you grow up fast. It gives you no choice but to learn and progress and build a life for you and your little partner in crime. It makes you thank God every single day for giving you a clear mind when you needed it most, those few years ago when you were crying over an unexpected pregnancy.

As I watch my little girl grow into a fireball of a toddler who loves tacos and cries over broken crayons, I’m filled with more love than I ever was, I’m still so young, and I’ve still got big dreams. As she wraps her tiny arms around me and I squeeze her tight, I hold the world in my arms.

 

 

It will never, ever matter when that fetus can be labeled as a life. What matters is that it WILL be a life. That tiny being has the potential to grow into a beautiful young woman and live out an entire lifetime, affecting every individual she meets, whether her impact is large or small. Her existence could fill the air with ideas and dreams and passion. One person could change our world if we only let life continue, if we don’t put a halt to 60, 80, or even 100 years of greatness.

I am and forever will be eternally grateful for my daughter’s existence. She stomped into my life and continues to teach me responsibility, hard work, patience, and so much more. It baffles me to no end that while thousands of couples wait desperately for an adoption agency to grant them that same gift, our government is providing a way for countless potential lives to be ended, instead of given.

For as long as I live, I will always choose to let life continue. I hope that someday our entire country, our entire planet, will vote for the same. Let's cut the euphemism for an act that doesn't deserve one.

The opposite of life

                  is not choice.

Gordon B. Hinckley: Picking Me Up Since 1996.

I don't know if this is a common occurrence for anyone else, but I find myself in these random moods of dark and dreary, hopeless despair anytime I contemplate the human race. That happen to you? I hope so.

I mean . . . not that I hope you suffer from devastating mood swings . . . but that I hope I'm not the only one that feels this way. And also because I hope you suffer from devastating mood – Nah, I'm only joking. Anyway!

The regression of mankind is a subject I try to avoid at all costs, because it really weighs on me for days - sometimes even weeks - at a time. I turn away from the news channels, I separate myself from conversations regarding current events, I even limit the amount of movies I watch that are anything less than cheerful. Sheltered? Fine. I'm happier that way. Because the human race disgusts me.

With all of the murder, rape, torture, terrorists attacks, mass shootings, sex slavery, bigotry, racism, and music videos of Miley Cyrus' flabby bum, it's no wonder depression is such a pressing issue for so many Americans.

We live in a day where every night before we fall asleep, we're just grateful that we and our loved ones are alive and well. “Nobody I know was brutally murdered today, so that's good news.” And we pray for another blessing tomorrow.

The world and its inhabitants have gotten to this point, and that is wrong and heart-breaking. I wonder, when God granted us free agency, did he know that it would get this bad? Isn't it interesting to think that the man you see on the news, the one that was busted for a basement full of children that were battered and sold for sex, was once standing (or floating?) beside us before this life, cheering at the announcement of God's plan? Eager to embark on the journey of a mortal life and prove his worth, Adolph Hitler once stood among the ranks of the children of God. If we were given free agency to prove our worth, then I would have to say that, as a whole, all we have proved is how undeserving we are. How ready we were not.

It's heavy. And it hurts.

And the dangers of this world are so much more concerning now that I have a child of my own. Out of sheer trust, this tiny angel was gifted to me to cherish and protect. With the ever increasing crime rates, I can't ignore the cold gripping fear of failure in the most crucial task I have ever been granted: keeping my daughter safe.

Today, as I jokingly explained why I should be deemed the supreme ruler of this planet because I would really put everyone in their place, the humor was corrupted by the shadow of reality. The horrors of this world crept into the corners of my mind, pressing against my thoughts throughout the day. It did not take long to realize I had unwittingly found myself in a very bleak state of mind.

This world isn't getting better. The prejudice, the wars, the greed, the hatred, and the violence. If anything, it's getting worse. As my daughter ages, our society will only continue to rot. The crime rate will continue to escalate. Our safety will begin to dwindle.
On a planet so wicked, what is the point in hoping for a pleasant life? Even if we are lucky enough to tread the years of mortality without facing a single demon, we will do so in fear and in dread, knowing so many of our fellow souls are suffering every single day.
I don't want to exist with these sick, twisted monsters that claim to be human. If this is the gift of free agency, I do not want it. Take it back.

I was heading towards the bottom of this pit. Digging myself deeper, and deeper. Once I realized that I had been staring at my computer screen for twenty minutes, pondering the tragedies of life, I knew I needed a distraction.

Enter, social media.

I shut my laptop, sat back, and pulled up Twitter and its never ending stream of mindless chatter to get my mind out of such dreary places. Do you want to know the first post that I saw on my feed?

It was a quote from a session of General Conference in April of 1996, from the beloved Gordon B. Hinckley.

“Life is to be enjoyed, not just endured.”

If it weren't for this marvelous quote popping into view at that exact second, I know I would not have recovered from my own thoughts so easily. Once I read his wise words, I set my phone down, I opened my laptop, and I continued to write.

Just as he had done so many times in the past, when he was still smiling at me from the television on Sunday morning, Gordon B. Hinckley lifted my spirits when I needed it most. He reminded me that this life is wonderful, that this life is meant to be enjoyed.

We are here. What more can we do than take advantage of this time and live a life we can be proud of? Happiness is a choice that only YOU can make. It is not a choice the world can decide for you, no matter how hard it may seem to try.

When you're feeling blue, when your thoughts are hopeless or dark, I hope that you can look to this quote for the spark of light that you need. I hope it brings you as much peace as it did me.

Life is to be enjoyed, not just endured.

8 Things You & Your Daughter Need to Know Before Her First Day of High School.

 

There she goes. Your pride and joy. You knew your little girl would grow up too fast. You knew there would come a day when you'd look at her and realize with a shock that she's grown into a beautiful, intelligent young woman. That day has come. The two of you have made it through the awkward, hormonal years of middle school and she's about to step onto the field to play with the big kids. High school can be exciting, concerning, and exhausting all at once, but here are a few key guidelines to sooth the transition.

1. Know Your Route.

We'll start with the basics. It's a new school, new teachers, and loads of new faces. You may be able to point out your classes on your marked up map, but it's a whole new world when you find yourself standing in that hallway, being pulled along with the frantic current of students who are either trying to find their class in time, or are getting annoyed with all the newbies that are stopping every ten feet to glance down at their map.

I would HIGHLY suggest you take your daughter on a walk through those halls while they're still empty and calm. Start at her locker and walk your way to each class. If the labyrinth gets a little too confusing, return to her locker and plot the best route from there, as it'll be her pit stop between classes. If your daughter isn't interested in letting her mommy hold her hand and show her around, have her round up a group of friends and drop them off at the school so they can figure it out together! Equally as helpful and even more fun!

There is nothing worse than being tardy to nearly every class on the first day. Venturing through a maze packed with people to find a new classroom eight times a day can be overwhelming, embarrassing, and frustrating, coloring her new school in a negative shade.

2. Be Prepared to Introduce Yourself a Billion Times.

I'm not just talking about the easy, “Hi, my name is Storm.” I'm talking about the horrible, awful, get-to-know-each other, activities that every teacher ensues on the first couple of days. Even on my senior year of high school, after we were all seated in our desks surrounded by friends and enemies, the teacher would announce that we were doing an activity to get to know each other. In my mind, what they were really saying was this:

“Listen up, brats. I didn't want to end my summer vacation to wake up early every day and endure this hell hole anymore than you did, so I have nothing prepared. Talk about yourselves with your neighbor while I finish the last chapter of 50 Shades of Gray and spend the final hour texting my girlfriends about how boring our sex lives are.”

Seriously.

In case you don't remember from middle school, these activities consist of mumbling your name, sharing an interesting fact about yourself, listing off 3 hobbies, or sharing a summer experience. Some have even resorted to making each student stand up and go through the motions for the whole class to hear. I didn't expect this routine to continue in high school, so I was completely unprepared and I panicked when faced with the nerve-wracking challenge of announcing who I was as a human being to a classroom of two dozen judge-mental teens that were more interesting than me. It would go a little something like this:

“I'm Jimmy and I race stallions through fields of fire in my spare time.”

“My name is Susie and I ate at every authentic restaurant in Europe with Johnny Depp over the summer.”

“My name is Storm and . . . . I . . . I can breathe really well through my nose.”

Right? How humiliating. Be prepared with some fun facts about yourself or an interesting experience you had over the summer so you're not drawing a blank when it's your turn to convince everyone else that you're a cool person they want to be friends with.

3. The Counselors are Your Friends!

It's important to know that the student counselors are there for YOU. It's their job, and I've found that most of them are very helpful. I wish I would have known sooner that I could address nearly every problem with a counselor, because it would have saved me a lot of stress. If you're struggling in a class, if you're having a problem with a bully, if you're feeling overwhelmed, the counselors are there to help you. Not only can they aid with the emotional strife of high school, but they're also a gigantic help in planning your life after graduation. My counselor was able to pull up my transcripts and print out a list of recommended colleges, scholarships, and grants that I would be able to apply for. It's never too early to start seeking scholarships!

If you find yourself with a moody, unhelpful counselor, explain the problem to the front desk and ask if you can be assigned to a new one!

4. Just Like a Snake.

Let's face it. You're young. Your interests and your opinions are constantly changing. You're hormonal. You're insecure. You're trying to figure yourself out. The thought of stepping into an unfamiliar building crammed with dozens of peers can be pretty scary or nerve-wracking. Will they like you? You're not even sure if you like you. Are you too dressed up for the first day? Are you too casual?

The most important thing to remember as you embark on the journey through high school is that everyone else around you is thinking the exact same thing. Just like a snake, they're more afraid of you than you are of them! There's no need to be shy. No need to wonder if your jeans are too flashy. Most of the people that you think are judging you, don't even notice you. They're too consumed with praying they don't trip as they walk past you in the hall.

You're surrounded by countless kids your age. Introduce yourself! Strike up conversations! Nobody is going to think you're weird for doing so; they'll just be relieved that someone thinks they're cool enough to talk to! Make friends! With a school packed with people, there are bound to be at least a bus full of others that share your interests and hobbies and once you graduate, you'll find that it's a lot harder to make new friends.

5. A Little Sucking Up Goes a Very Long Way.

 

 

As you conquer the first few weeks of high school, you're going to learn a lot about your teachers. You'll discover their teaching methods, their pet peeves, their likes, their dislikes. During my first year of high school, I paid little to no attention to my teachers' mentalities. What did I care? I didn't even want to be there in that dreadful math class. I was just waiting for the bell to set me free. As I struggled to obtain the grades that I so easily earned in middle school, I learned one very important lesson about the teachers in high school: they care about your grade only as much as you do. No more, no less. One day, I remember a group of us making fun of a friend for being such a suck up to his teachers. His shameless reply was, “My teachers love me and I get better grades than any of you, just for taking the time to get to know them and treat them with respect.”

None of us could rebuke. He had an excellent point. I'm not advising you to agree with everything your teacher says, to be the first one to class and the last one to leave. Just take the time to get to know them and act accordingly. Show them the respect that they deserve. Show them that you CARE about your grade by staying after class to discuss an assignment or asking for extra credit. I promise you, if you show your teacher how much you care about your education, they are going to put in the effort to help you as much as possible. A little sucking up never hurt anyone.

6. Prepare For Battle.

I regret to inform you that there are dangers that you must prepare for. Dangers in your school that you cannot avoid. It's disconcerting, the thought of what lurks in the deepest corners of the halls. Perhaps you would rather ignore the possibility. Perhaps you think that it won't happen to you. You are wrong. There are those that seek to destroy, and you must stand strong against their thirst for doom. No matter what crowd you slip into, no matter how you behave, there is a 99% chance that you will have to face the monster in the shadows. And there's a 99.99% that the beast has taken the form of a teenage girl.

Are you scared yet? You shouldn't be, silly! A spoiled brat with daddy issues is nothing you can't handle! Mean Girls in not just a hilarious movie, people. Mean girls are very real and there are at least a handful of them in every school.

I would have to say that if you learn anything from this blog, you learn about how to handle the malicious, deceitful girls at your school. They may be young, but an encounter with a pack of these vicious beasts can really harm your self-esteem and your daily life at your home away from home. Read up. Study them. Understand the enemy with my guide, A Word on Mean Girls. Once you've learned about the monsters, learn the art of taming them with my instructional post on Taming the Girl Pack.

7. Take Advantage!

I'll be honest, I regret how I spent my time in high school. I did not have a good time. After years of mastering the craft of taming Mean Girls and moving onto high school, I was so over the monotonous scene. I hated being there. I hated my classes. I graduated early so I wouldn't have to engage in the motions any longer. And I regret it.

 

In a school full of people, surrounded by opportunities to make friends and learn new skills, I took advantage of nothing! You're only in high school for a few years before you're kicked to the sad, dirty curb of adulthood. Embrace it!!! Join clubs and sports teams. Take a variety of different classes to broaden your horizons and discover new interests. Go to school activities like dances and sports games! High school can be a long, boring, hellish nightmare, OR it can be a wild, exciting, super fun party! It's up to you to make your experience a great one. Since you're trapped there for years to come, you may as well enjoy it, right?

8. Have Faith in Time.

For some, the adolescent years spent in high school can be harder than they are for others. It's a stressful time. As if your grades weren't enough to worry about, you need to start planning for your future. With the burden of securing your education, you're going to be dealing with mean girls, boys, relationships, friendships, social events, and whatever may be happening in your life outside of school. There's a lot on a teen's plate and you have every right to feel overwhelmed or maybe even hopeless.

Please, have faith in the power of time. The inevitable, constant, secure pulse of each second. Keep moving. Even when it seems that you have nothing left to give, when you think you can't take another step, pick up your foot, move it forward, and place it on the ground. Roll with the punches. Even if you're feeling the worst you've ever felt, whether it's about a break-up, a crumbling friendship, mean girls, your home life, or your grades, you just keep on going. Take each day one at a time, and one morning, you'll wake up to the sun streaming in and vanquishing the night. As you lay there, you will realize that the trials have passed. The drama will be over. And you will get out of bed, and you will take the next step.

If you have faith in nothing, have faith in the power of time and the strength it has to pull you along when you can no longer continue by your own will. These things will pass. I swear on my life.

Who am I to make such a promise? I have no idea what you're going through or what challenges you will face. No, but I can still promise with absolute confidence that any dreary point in your life will fall behind as the minutes push you forward. I have been severely bullied, heartbroken, married, and divorced. I have experienced the death of peers. I have lived in distress at home. I have kept moving. And I am so happy.

High school is what you make it! Know your way around, earn good grades, and fend off the mean girls hiding in the bushes! You're going to be just fine!
I hope you enjoyed this post and I hope you find some use of it on your first day of school! Thanks for reading! Good luck!

Self-Efficacy: The Key to Building Confidence in Children as Young as Two Years Old.

I stood at the door with my toddler in one arm and an obnoxiously large diaper bag hanging from the other. It was crammed with everything my sweet little girl might need on her first day at daycare. I had researched many options before I found Melissa, a lovely woman who ran a small daycare in her home, comprised of only three other girls that were the same age as my daughter, Melody.

Melissa answered the door and ushered us inside, where the other kids were relishing in heaps of books. Knowing that my daughter loves books more than candy, I put her down and encouraged her to go read with her “new friends”.

As I filled out the sign-in sheet, Melody clung to my leg and assessed the girls who watched her with excited faces. I found it odd that my rambunctious, gabby, sassy baby who approached kids at the park and waived and babbled to strangers in the store, was now bashful and withdrawn. I introduced her to the pack, sat her down beside the nicest looking child with the face of a China Doll, and got her started with a book about shapes. She watched me leave with a blank stare and despite the number of “Bye bye's” and “I love you's” that I gushed, she didn't offer a single word. You would think I had just checked her into a rehabilitation center.

I couldn't focus on my work for the rest of the day. Melody's reaction had concerned me and I began to realize that even toddlers had their own level of self-esteem. I had never contemplated the idea. I just sort of assumed that kids thought as purely as angels do, without judgment or doubt, before the trends and customs of society caught up with them. How could I raise my daughter to be a confident and secure young woman? Is it even possible to begin building confidence in children as young as two years old? I thought of my parenting methods thus far. Was I building Melody's self-esteem effectively?

 

I pulled up my search engine, and the research began!

The fact of the matter is, even outstanding parents have the potential to unknowingly wear down or stifle a child's confidence. Perhaps their expectations are too high, their methods of discipline or encouragement are having the opposite affect, or they're failing to adjust their methods to the appropriate age. The key to raising a confident and successful young man or woman lies within our understanding of self-efficacy.

Vaping: A New Way of Life. (Or Maybe Death)

Everywhere I go, I can almost always find at least one source from which little puffs of smoke rise and dissipate. In close quarters with the right lighting, I see smokey streams drifting to the ceiling, dancing slightly with the movements below.

 

It reminds me of Audrey Hepburn and the movies of her time, shrouded in an ever constant haze of smoke. Nobody knew just how lethal those enjoyable white sticks of toxins really were. The glamor of the 50's, when nearly every arm in America was perpetually cocked and red embers winked at the end of the cigarettes between their fingers as they unknowingly smoked away years of their life. In cars, in restaurants, in theaters, and even in nurseries. Foggy ceilings and constant gray clouds of breath.

 

Just like today. Only this generation is wiser. We learned from their mistakes. We watched our grandparents in hospital beds, we witnessed the dramatized advertisements in health class, and we grimaced at the scent of tobacco as we passed on the streets. We know better than to sicken ourselves with such an obvious ailment. Instead, we puff on an alternative. A safer, smarter alternative.

 

 

 

13 Ways to Make Any Illness Easier For Your Child.

 

If you read my post about Febrile Seizures, you may remember my mentioning of my month of hell. March has been a whirlwind of unfortunate events for me and my daughter. During the first week of March, I dealt with agonizing ulcers in my eyes. The following Monday, when I was ready to get back to work, my daughter caught a cold. By the end of the week, the cold escalated into RSV. Sweet Baby Melody had a febrile seizure and was left miserable and traumatized. As we rolled into the third week of March, Melody had recovered from her illness and was back to her trouble-loving self for one day before she began showing signs of the stomach flu. For the next couple days she was vomiting all over my bedspread. Can you believe our luck?! I've come to the conclusion that the Irish hate us.

Despite this dreadful Irish “luck”, I learned so much about coping with a sick toddler and devised a few ways to make the experience easier for you and your little one!

Your Child Has a 1 in 25 Chance of Having a Febrile Seizure. Prepare Yourself BEFORE it Happens.

First of all, I'd like to apologize for my delayed posting time. These past two weeks have been hell for me. First, I slept in my contacts for the first time in years because I was out of solution, which resulted in agonizing ulcers in my eyes for at least a week. Second, my daughter caught the worst cold she's ever had, and we experienced the traumatic event of a Febrile Seizure. You can read my experience below, or you can scroll further down to read up on the facts of Febrile Seizures and educate yourself on how to prevent and treat them.

For parents with children of any age, watching our little angels suffer the symptoms of any sickness is terrible to endure. My daughter, Melody, is nearly two years old. She had caught a cold and for nearly an entire week, she was a miserable blob of mucous and fever with a throat ripping cough that wore her to exhaustion. I had considered taking her to the doctor, as this was her worst cold yet, but my online research informed me that there was really nothing to be done for a common cold aside from vapor rub and steam.

The night of the incident, my daughter had taken a late nap and when she woke with a high fever, I gave her some children's Advil and sat her beside me to watch some cartoons.

I had just started a new movie on Netflix when I looked to her and realized that she was not watching the television, but rather staring at nothing with half-lidded eyes. My heart broke for my weary, little baby. I patted her knee and spoke to her, but she did not respond. I said her name and gave her leg a small shake, but to my heart-dropping horror, her head drooped to the side and her eyes glazed over.

I remember this moment with more clarity than with what followed. I called out her name louder, lifting her head and forcing her to look at me with her unfocused eyes. When it became unmistakably clear that my little girl was completely unresponsive, I shouted for my mother. The sound was loud enough to catch Melody's attention; she snapped out of her trance and her wide blue eyes focused on me. As I watched helplessly, my daughter's face twisted with pain and she gave one, raspy scream before she went limp and her head fell forward. It was truly something out of a horror movie.

I was gathering my limp child in my arms, careful to support her heavy head, when my mother rushed in, took one look, and ran away shouting my father's name. I stood with my baby, shouting her name as I fought to keep her head up and saw that her eyes had rolled back into her head and her mouth hung open. I began to tremble, the edges of my vision going black and fuzzy.

I'm going to lose my daughter.

My dad barged into the room when I was holding my finger beneath her nose, checking for breath. He took her from me and laid her gently on the floor, carefully adjusting her head. He pressed his ear to her heart and his finger beneath her nose as Melody began to turn a sickening blue.

My mother stood in the hallway shouting frantically at the emergency operator on the phone, stressing the danger between each answer to the operator's stream of insignificant questions about our basic demographic information. My sister was crouched down to my dad's level over Melody's head, repeating the instructions for performing CPR on an infant over the loud desperation of my mother's panic.

All the while I stood uselessly by, staring at my tiny angel on the floor and repeating the same words over and over again under my breath.

“Dear Lord, please save my baby. Please save my baby. Oh, God, please keep my child alive.”

 

Melody's eyes had rolled back into her head completely, she wasn't moving, and the skin of her round face was growing bluer by the second. I fell to the floor beside her, typing the situation into the Google search on my iPhone, searching for instructions to save my daughter. I recall my clumsy fingers gliding across my screen until I found an article that I couldn't even read due to my trembling hands and blackening, blurry vision. The paramedics were on their way, but I knew they would not arrive in time.

Melody's body began to stiffen, every flinching muscle going rigid. My father was pumping his fingers below her sternum and when he bent his head to blow a small puff of air in her mouth, a soft wheeze emanated from her lips. Her blue eyes focused once again. My dad made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a victorious shout as he lifted Melody off of the floor and held her in his lap. She faced me as he lightly pounded on her little back and I felt myself breath for the first time as she struggled to focus on me as she cried.

The rest of the night drawled on with at least eight paramedics in my living room, surrounding Melody and I in a jumbled mass of navy blue and steel briefcases filled with instruments to check her vitals. They left a very cranky Melody with a shiny gold sticker that resembled a badge and we took a trip to the ER, where the doctors and nurses performed multiple tests. The hospital staff checked her vitals again, drew blood, and worst of all, took a urine sample through the use of a catheter.

After the tests were completed and I had more than my share of holding down my screaming baby while she was pricked and prodded, we were informed that Melody had a Febrile Seizure due to a spike in her fever. Her body temperature had rose to quickly for a toddler to handle.

The next few nights were marred with fear and frequent temperature checks. Melody's room was littered with empty medicine boxes, sticky syringes, and jars of vapor rub. She recovered quickly after a long night of uninterrupted rest, and was back to her sassy little self a few days later. Though the event has passed, the trauma continues to haunt me as I remember my precious angel sitting beside me, limp and unresponsive, staring at nothing. The look of agony that crossed her face before losing consciousness.

I regret my sheer helplessness that night. I was entirely unprepared and uneducated and as I took to the web for research the next day, I felt that every parent could benefit from a little preemptive planning.

What is a Febrile Seizure?

Febrile Seizures are convulsions brought on by a high fever in infants and children. During the seizure, a child will lose consciousness, their muscles will tighten and shake, or they'll experience small tremors in selective parts of their rigid body. Most seizures last only a minute or two (though it feels like a lifetime) but some can last up to fifteen minutes. If you're child is experiencing a seizure that lasts more than a few minutes, take them to the hospital immediately.

In the event of a Febrile Seizure, what can you do?

Amidst the horror and panic, my family and I didn't know what to do. We scrambled about, called 911, and even performed light CPR. When you're child is having a seizure, none of the above is necessary. The seizure will pass, but there is nothing you can do to speed up the process.

• When it begins, be absolutely sure to check the time to monitor the length of the seizure. This is crucial. When you're thrown into a traumatic situation like this, minutes may feel like hours.
• Lay the child down in a safe environment where they can't hurt themselves, make sure nothing is in their mouth, and lay them on their stomach or side so they do not choke on their saliva.
• If the seizure persists for longer than five minutes, call the paramedics or take your child to the hospital right away.

That's it. You will feel horrifyingly helpless, but it will pass. As an added precaution, you can call the paramedics immediately so they can check your child's vital signs and give you further instruction at no cost to you, regardless of your insurance.

How can a Febrile Seizure be prevented?

It's hard to say whether or not these tactics will prove 100% effective in preventing a seizure, but we must do what we can. Febrile Seizures are the result of high fevers, so anything you can do to keep your child's body temperature at a safe rate will help. These are a few tactics I learned from the paramedics and hospital staff.

1. Monitor the child's temperature regularly with a thermometer so you can prepare for the worst and help bring the fever down.
2. There are several brands of medicine for subduing a fever in children. I prefer Children's Advil and Tylenol. If your little angel is younger than two years old, they make medicine for infants specifically, so be sure to get the box that is age appropriate. With Advil and Tylenol, you can alternate between the two to make sure that dreaded fever never has the opportunity to spike. My doctor instructed me to administer one dosage of Advil every 4-6 hours. If the fever persists within that time frame, I was to give one dosage of Tylenol every two hours in between. Apparently this is a commonly known method, but I was worried about injecting that much medicine into my baby. Rest assured, it's completely safe as long as you're using the correct dosage for the correct age and weight. As an added bonus, the medicine seemed to make my daughter lethargic and drowsy, which resulted in more uninterrupted rest for her.
3. If your child still suffers from a high fever even with the medicine, keep them cool. You can pat them down with a cold wet cloth, wrap them in a blanket and stand outside on a cool day, or run their wrists under cold water. Resist the urge to bundle them up in mountains of cozy blankets and be sure to dress them in light clothing that breathes.

Are Febrile Seizures Dangerous?

If the above methods fail, take some comfort in the fact that brief Febrile Seizures are quite common and ultimately harmless. 1 in 25 children will have a Febrile Seizure before the age of 5. These seizures have no common relation to Epilepsy (seizures without cause) or long-term brain damage. Research shows that even children who endure long Febrile Seizures (lasting up to an hour) rarely suffer from permanent side effects.

The National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke say, “Even when seizures are very long (more than 1 hour), most children recover completely, but a few might be at risk of subsequent seizures without fever (epilepsy). In other words, between 95 and 98 percent of children who experience febrile seizures do not go on to develop epilepsy. However, although the absolute risk remains small, some groups of children--including those with cerebral palsy, delayed development, or other neurological abnormalities--have an increased risk of developing epilepsy. The type of febrile seizure also matters; children who have prolonged febrile seizures (particularly lasting more than an hour) or seizures that affect only part of the body, or that recur within 24 hours, are at a somewhat higher risk. Among children who don't have any of these risk factors, only one in 100 develops epilepsy after a febrile seizure.”

I trust this post was helpful to you and I hope that you will not experience the terrifying trauma of a Febrile Seizure in your little ones. If you do, at the very least you will be prepared and probably a lot less panic-stricken than me and my family were! Have you dealt with a Febrile Seizure in the past? Did you know what it was when it was happening? How did you handle it?

As always, I look forward to hearing from my readers. Happy parenting!

To read more on Febrile Seizures, you can check out the NIH fact sheet by clicking here.

Stand Against the Worldwide Toddler Hunger Strike With These 6 Strategies!

I think I speak for just about every parent when I say that my toddler is intentionally trying to starve to death . . . or . . . something to that effect. She hasn't admitted anything yet, but I think she may be a part of some Worldwide Toddler Hunger Strike. This little girl is about as tiny as they come at almost two years old. A miniature child is cute and all, but I'm starting to worry that she's going to wither away into nothing if she doesn't start eating more!

It seems that almost every night, I watch my daughter nibble on some carrot sticks while I nibble my fingernails down to the bone and think of all the different advice I've heard from different experienced parents. Some tell me to make her stay at the table until she's finished every last bite, others tell me not to worry – kids will eat when they're hungry. Neither approach is as easy as it sounds. Do I hover over her highchair, waiving that 'one last bite' in front of her face, wrestling with her relentless attempts to escape? Or do I replace my wallet and sunglasses for a purse full of snacks, just hoping that she'll realize on her own that food is necessary for survival before she blows away at the park? It seems that either approach I take, I'm bagging up a handful of half eaten crackers and vegetables, tossing chunks of cheese and meat, and dumping countless bowls of meals that I had taken the time to prepare every night at dinner.

I had taken my daughter in for a routine checkup when her doctor pointed out that she wasn't growing and we discussed her eating habits – or lack there of. He assured me that it wasn't anything to stress over, but that I should monitor her eating more closely. He instructed me to place her on a fattening diet consisting of all the good stuff like buttered toast, buttered potatoes, buttered pasta, buttered anything with a glob of cream cheese, cottage cheese, and sour cream. Anything to load her up and kick start her growth. Well, that would have been the perfect strategy, had my daughter eaten anything that I placed before her. Pasta, bread, meats, she wanted nothing to do with. Toss her a couple celery sticks and apple slices and that little girl was as happy as could be with only a few bites of each.

So what could I do? In a desperate attempt to feed my toddler, I made just about every mistake that a parent could. I let her snack on nearly anything, including empty calories like chips and cookies. It was just comforting to know she was eating anything at all. I always had a sippy cup at the ready with milk or juice, hoping she would at least drink her nutrients. I battled with her over the last bite – sometimes even the first bite. I would bribe her. I would threaten her with notions of no candy, cookies, or juice. I would act as though I wanted her food – you know, as a type of reverse psychology – but she called my bluffs and gladly handed me her meal before she leaned as far as she could over the side, trying to fall out of her chair to get away from my pathetic groveling.

I was growing desperate, so I turned to the web! Because you can believe everything you read on the internet as opposed to real life experiences from a parent of 8! 'Cheesy smile'

The first thing I learned from my research was that most every parent faces this problem at some point. Toddlers are stubborn, opinionated, and find thrill in exercising their new found independence. Little turds.

In addition to learning that my daughter wasn't the only one engaged in the Toddler Hunger Strike Campaign, I also discovered that it's okay. Toddlers go through phases of starving and gorging. They'll eat one type of food for weeks on end and they'll deny foods that they once loved. Not only are toddlers taking advantage of their new independence, but they're diets are also based on a weekly scale – not daily, like adults. As long as your toddler is growing and has plenty of energy, then it's okay that they're not eating as much as you think they should!

Most every resource that I searched assured me that as long as she is growing at a healthy rate and she's got plenty of energy, then her eating habits shouldn't be a concern. But that's just it. My daughter wasn't growing. Sure, she had about as much energy and power of destruction as a lighting storm, but she hadn't gained a single pound in months, according to her growth charts. It was time to make a change and discreetly wean her from her loyalty to the hunger strike. After compiling a list of methods from other parents, the web, and personal experience, I'm proud to say that I've had some success! The process has been slow going, but at least it's going! If your little monster is engaged in the Worldwide Toddler Hunger Strike, then strategize with some of these wise tactics! Together, we can beat this!

1. Most studies claim that toddlers should be eating three meals and two snacks a day. Try to time your kid's meal times with enough time in between for a small healthy snack and don't let them graze all day just to get something in their stomach! They'll be hungrier at dinner, resulting in a cleared plate and a little victory for you!
2. Limit the amount of juices and milk they're taking in. Milk is very filling and most juices are loaded with sugars and preservatives that can ruin a child's appetite. My daughter won't touch water unless it comes from Mommy's water bottle, which results in more slobber and backwash than I can mentally handle. To make sure my toddler is getting plenty of water, I'll add a splash of juice for flavor into her sippy cup. It may seem deceiving, but hey, a momma's gotta do what a momma's gotta do.
3. It's a commonly known fact that children find comfort in routine and familiarity. A set schedule for meal times will make it easier on your child to understand that play time is over and it's time to eat. Just like yesterday, just like every day before, and just like tomorrow.
4. Children want to be a part of the group. One of the big kids. They're more likely to eat when they see Mom and Dad eating the same thing at the same time, especially if they're older siblings are doing it as well. Family meals are just about the only time my daughter will eat until her plate is completely clean. She'll join in on the conversation with her adorable babbling, she'll use a napkin, and she'll stay seated until everyone else is finished.
5. If you're child is a picky eater, offer them multiple foods to chose from. I ask my daughter if she wants a whole list of meals before she finally picks one and that's okay. She takes pride in her independent decision and she's more willing to finish her dinner because she was the one who chose it all on her own.
6. Doctors advise against threatening or bribing for many reasons. Meal times can turn into a power struggle, your toddler may find your pleading amusing and will continue the nightly act for attention, and your child may begin to resent meal times due to the stress and cookie related punishments. Let your toddler decide when they're done. They'll learn that an unfinished meal will only leave them hungry.

If none of these methods work for you at first, stick with them! It's all about routine. I know it's easier to hand them a bowl of Gold Fish Crackers when they leave they're pasta untouched, but you're only stifling your toddler's potential to establish healthy eating habits. If you're just too worried that they're not getting enough calories and nutrients, then snag a pack of PediaSure next time you're at the grocery store. My daughter starts each day with one of those. Not only are they healthy and fattening, but they're also delicious! In addition to the methods listed above and the PediaSure, I make sure my daughter's meal and snack options are both nutritional and filling. My suggested snacks are carrot sticks, cheese and crackers, granola bars, mixed vegetables, fruits, and cottage cheese. It took some experimenting to find what my daughter prefers, but I take comfort in the fact that even though she barely touched her dinner tonight, she had a sufficient source of nutrients through out the day.

Do you have any other successful methods in fighting the Toddler Hunger Strike? If so, I'd love to hear them! We solo-parents will take all the advice that we can get! Good luck and happy parenting!