What's this? Two posts in two days!? Unheard of!
But today was worthy. Very worthy.
Today I was IN THE ZONE.
Now yesterday, not so much. I think yesterday I hit a bit of a rock bottom, as they say. It was your basic day, but I just realized, after a few conversations with friends and acquaintences, that I was not putting my best foot forward with my kids. Namely with my son.
As I have said before, he has a tendency to be "that kid". A screamer. A thrower. A hair puller. Et cetera. Yesterday I realized that a lot of this was my fault. Yes, he has plenty of testosterone. But I can't blame it all on that. I just haven't had the patience and tolerance to educate him the way I taught my other two kids at the same age. With my girls I was still in prime mothering form. But now I'm like an old quarterback out there on the field that can't throw a pass to save their career but still never gives up. Because they think they are playing great. But really, they are old and tired and worn out, and can't give the game nearly the pep that they used to.
Not sure where that football analogy came from, but you get the idea.
Of course , like any good mother, I blame my other two kids for wearing me down to this point in the first place. Or it could have something to do with being almost 8 years older than when this whole motherhood thing began. And spending almost every single day of the last 7 years drying tears, wiping snotty noses, filling sippy cups, cleaning up messes and carrying around small people that never leave me alone. See, I'm back to blaming the kids again.
Regardless, I had hit a low point. And I realized why. And I vented about it. And then a miracle happened.
I woke up to my screaming son this morning. Okay, that wasn't the miracle. The miracle was that I woke up and thought "oh my God, I can't do this another day." And then I went downstairs and tried my best to put on a good face.
And after a while I wasn't trying anymore. I was just in a really good mood. And so was my son. I've never been more sure that his mood is a reflection of my own. I have known this for a while but I just didn't have the energy to pretend to be happy most days. For whatever reason, today I did. And it was truly a blessing of a day.
It went a little something like this:
He was happy through the grocery store; not a single scream or tear.
We were early to the athletic club so we went to the gymnasium and played with some basketballs. And he was happy to put them back and go to the child care center. Again, not a single scream or tantrum.
Then I played tennis. And man, did I play some tennis. I could do no wrong! Every single ball I hit, with the exception of a few, went exactly where I wanted it to go. After an hour of this, I thought I really need to go by some lottery tickets because something is definitely going my way today.
Then I went to pick up my son and the woman at the child care center said he had a really good day today. Go figure. Lately I've been hearing a lot of "he had a time-out today" or "he tried to push someone today." But not today, my friends.
He had a couple of attempts at screaming in the car, but I was able to thwart it every time today with my 'trick of the day': I counted to three slowly, holding up the right number of fingers every time, and then said "sshhh, sshhh, sshhh". And it worked. He seemed fascinated by the number two all day; he would try to do it with his fingers and it just made him giggle every time.
Whatever works.
Then he had a nap, and woke up without screaming or crying. Now that is unheard of.
Then we went to the library and the first person I saw was my neighbor. She didn't know it until after I approached her, but she was the topic of a few conversations yesterday as I realized that I should ask her if her 12 year old daughter could be a 'mother's helper' during some afternoons so she can play with the kids while I cook dinner or get things done around the house. All afternoon and evening yesterday I was trying to figure out how I could get a hold of her short of stalking her driveway. And we walk into the library and - bam - there she is.
In the zone, baby. Needless to say her answer was "yes, she'd love to!" and she's going to send her over to our house to figure out a schedule this weekend.
Nice!
And it's probably no surprise at this point that the longer my day went on, no matter where we went or what we did, the better my mood got. I was starting to think to myself that I should look in a mirror because I might have grown a second head. Where did this great attitude come from?
Perhaps it just came from finally seeing some light. Seeing some hope in the future for getting a little more help with my kids. And knowing that it's okay to ask for that help. It doesn't make me a bad mom, or an ungrateful person for living in this blessed life and still wanting "more." It makes me smart because I realize that I'm not taking care of myself or putting myself first. And if I don't do that, then I'm not the only one that suffers. My kids suffer too. Not to mention my poor husband who has to pick up the slack every night when he gets home.
My family has had to suffer through my bad mood for the past 6 months, or so it seems. But no more. I've turned a corner and I'm not going back.
Now someone just remind me of this the next time I call you up to bitch and moan.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Laughter Is The Best Medicine
Blog? What blog?
Okay, my sincere apologies for being a slacker blogess lately. I have been busy giving birth to a new baby - and no, not a real one. More about that later. Suffice it to say, I may have to change my bio on this blog to say that I'm not only a stay-at-home mom, but I'm also a work-at-home mom. And an insane mom. Because I needed more to do these days.
So back to my funny story of the day. Actually it was yesterday. After school my oldest always comes home and wants a snack. It's like living in a commercial. So she pulls out what's left of her snack from school and starts munching away on Cheez-Its. When she polishes those off she goes for a chocolate cookie.
Since we baked them last week, she's been having one every day when she gets home from school. I figure it's comfort food to go with the comfort zone that she has just re-entered.
My younger daughter then tells her that she should eat some fruit first before she has that cookie. I have good laugh and take full advantage of this sage advice from my younger little lady. I hand my oldest a can of diced peaches and tell her to finish that off first, then she can have the cookie.
In a few seconds my request is taken care of and she starts in on the cookie. While she's eating she browses the pantry for a second or two, turns around, looks at me, still with cookie in-hand, and asks if she can finish her cookie upstairs in her room.
Whaaat? Where did that question come from? And why is she asking me and not just going right on up there? Maybe because I already warned them No Chocolate Crumbs All Over The House.
Then I catch a glimpse of a bag of fruit chews in her other hand, casually hanging very close to being behind her leg, but not quite. And her very hopeful wide open eyes and smile are just casually awaiting my answer.
Then the laughter hits full on. These girls are cracking me up. My goody-two-shoes daughter is trying to be sneaky, but she's basically asking permission first. She wants to eat those fruit chews (in my book they qualify as a sugary snack) and she doesn't want to ask permission since she thinks the answer may be "no" after the cookie. So she instead asks if she can eat up in her room where she will have just accidentally brought that other sugary snack item with her and, gee whiz, she'll have to eat it.
I tell her that she doesn't need to sneak things and that if she just asked, the answer would probably be "yes". Then I tell her no cookies up in her room, she has to stay in the kitchen. She still doesn't want to acknowledge that she was trying to be sneaky, so she goes back to the pantry and this time goes in it, and closes the door behind her.
I reiterate my comment, between my chuckles, about just asking permission for things and not trying to sneak them. Her muffled voice comes through the door and says she just wants to eat her cookie in the pantry, that's all.
Yeah, right.
Next she comes out, cookie crumbs on her face, and with a big expecting smile and those same wide open eyes, she looks at me and asks "Can I go upstairs now?"
Now she could have just come out of there and tore up to her room, shouting a "see ya" along the way. But she didn't. She asked permission. I see a trend here.
So I check her hands without trying to look too suspicious. Nope, they're empty.
"Sure," I say, "go ahead up."
At which point she starts to run, gets about three steps into her sprint and we hear the crinkling noise of the fruit chews bag slipping down her pants.
Here come my giggles again. This time her sister is in on it too. "She has the bag of fruit chewies!" the little rascal exclaims.
"Yup, she sure does," I say, still laughing. I walk over and give my wanna-be sneak a big hug and just laugh with her. She starts laughing too and gives me back a wonderful hug around the middle.
"Anything you want to ask?" I say.
"Can I have them?" she asks.
"Yes, you can have them. But next time, just ask first!! The answer is almost always yes."
I guess I could have been pretty upset with her for trying to be sneaky. And I could read a lot of food issues into it too. But I don't. I know my kids, and there are no food issues. And they also aren't very good at sneaking things. Or lying. Thank goodness.
So I'm glad I got a good laugh out of it instead.
Okay, my sincere apologies for being a slacker blogess lately. I have been busy giving birth to a new baby - and no, not a real one. More about that later. Suffice it to say, I may have to change my bio on this blog to say that I'm not only a stay-at-home mom, but I'm also a work-at-home mom. And an insane mom. Because I needed more to do these days.
So back to my funny story of the day. Actually it was yesterday. After school my oldest always comes home and wants a snack. It's like living in a commercial. So she pulls out what's left of her snack from school and starts munching away on Cheez-Its. When she polishes those off she goes for a chocolate cookie.
Since we baked them last week, she's been having one every day when she gets home from school. I figure it's comfort food to go with the comfort zone that she has just re-entered.
My younger daughter then tells her that she should eat some fruit first before she has that cookie. I have good laugh and take full advantage of this sage advice from my younger little lady. I hand my oldest a can of diced peaches and tell her to finish that off first, then she can have the cookie.
In a few seconds my request is taken care of and she starts in on the cookie. While she's eating she browses the pantry for a second or two, turns around, looks at me, still with cookie in-hand, and asks if she can finish her cookie upstairs in her room.
Whaaat? Where did that question come from? And why is she asking me and not just going right on up there? Maybe because I already warned them No Chocolate Crumbs All Over The House.
Then I catch a glimpse of a bag of fruit chews in her other hand, casually hanging very close to being behind her leg, but not quite. And her very hopeful wide open eyes and smile are just casually awaiting my answer.
Then the laughter hits full on. These girls are cracking me up. My goody-two-shoes daughter is trying to be sneaky, but she's basically asking permission first. She wants to eat those fruit chews (in my book they qualify as a sugary snack) and she doesn't want to ask permission since she thinks the answer may be "no" after the cookie. So she instead asks if she can eat up in her room where she will have just accidentally brought that other sugary snack item with her and, gee whiz, she'll have to eat it.
I tell her that she doesn't need to sneak things and that if she just asked, the answer would probably be "yes". Then I tell her no cookies up in her room, she has to stay in the kitchen. She still doesn't want to acknowledge that she was trying to be sneaky, so she goes back to the pantry and this time goes in it, and closes the door behind her.
I reiterate my comment, between my chuckles, about just asking permission for things and not trying to sneak them. Her muffled voice comes through the door and says she just wants to eat her cookie in the pantry, that's all.
Yeah, right.
Next she comes out, cookie crumbs on her face, and with a big expecting smile and those same wide open eyes, she looks at me and asks "Can I go upstairs now?"
Now she could have just come out of there and tore up to her room, shouting a "see ya" along the way. But she didn't. She asked permission. I see a trend here.
So I check her hands without trying to look too suspicious. Nope, they're empty.
"Sure," I say, "go ahead up."
At which point she starts to run, gets about three steps into her sprint and we hear the crinkling noise of the fruit chews bag slipping down her pants.
Here come my giggles again. This time her sister is in on it too. "She has the bag of fruit chewies!" the little rascal exclaims.
"Yup, she sure does," I say, still laughing. I walk over and give my wanna-be sneak a big hug and just laugh with her. She starts laughing too and gives me back a wonderful hug around the middle.
"Anything you want to ask?" I say.
"Can I have them?" she asks.
"Yes, you can have them. But next time, just ask first!! The answer is almost always yes."
I guess I could have been pretty upset with her for trying to be sneaky. And I could read a lot of food issues into it too. But I don't. I know my kids, and there are no food issues. And they also aren't very good at sneaking things. Or lying. Thank goodness.
So I'm glad I got a good laugh out of it instead.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Here We Go Loopty Loo
Today was a roller coaster of a day. I guess when you are feeling stretched to your limits and in the midst of some serious PMS you have to suffer through the peaks and valleys of emotions.
Lately my husband and I have been saying that we need to get our family out doing more things. We shied off of that a bit when we added a third VERY active child to the family. We have been thinking that maybe it's easier if we all have something fun to do and look at instead of sitting around the house mediating sibling battles and cleaning up messes.
That being said, a month or two ago I signed my oldest up for a Girl Scout outing to the Oakland Zoo. I thought it sounded like fun at the time since we'd never been there before and I'd heard good things about it. At the time I was worried about the weather, but little did I know that we'd have such a beautiful day. So, putting to work the new motto of getting out more often, we head over there this morning and I'm optimistic about a fun day ahead of us out of the house.
In a nutshell, I will concur with the positive reviews of the zoo. It has a whole section of kids rides and it's attractions are more centrally located than the San Francisco zoo. Not that I saw any of them.
The little educational 'class' that my daughter and I did was just limited to one area of the zoo. We saw bugs, alligators, turtles, snakes, rabbits and a couple other odds and ends. The big guns were all elsewhere in the zoo and not on our tour. Which is probably why about one and a half hours of the way through the 2 hour tour, my daughter used the "b" word.
"This is boring."
How I hate that word. It brings up so many issues. Am I underestimating her amusement level with these things? Is she not interested in animals anymore? How could I be off the mark here? Or is she bored because she's a boring person, as the saying goes? Am I a boring mom? Should we not be getting out of the house more? Is it worth it?
So I ruminate on all that crap while she suffers throughout the rest of the mini-tour, earns her badge, and then we are outta there. It's noon by this time and we are starving, so we meet up with my husband and two little ones and head to the cafe. Of course I'm in a not-so-great mood at this point because I'm hungry and I feel as if I wasted all of our time, according to my daughter's sourpuss face. I'm cruising downhill to the valley of self-pity.
My husband meanwhile was a trooper taking the little two on a tour of the rest of the entire zoo, getting a workout along the way carrying one or both of them around while saying hello to the monkeys and elephants.
After eating I'm feeling a bit better, despite the fact that my husband and I never really sat down to eat our lunch and instead took turns chasing our wandering son around in between his wailing battles to stay at our table.
So we head out to explore the rest of the zoo, which I hope is more to my oldests' liking. While we are gazing in amazement at the giraffes (which are very close up at this zoo), I am feeling much better. I'm thinking that we might just salvage this day after all. Probably had something to do with the fact that I love the gentle beauty and gigantic elegance of the giraffe. I'm definitely headed back up the hill to a peak of gratitude.
I try to rally the troops to go to the next animal, but no one is moving. It looks like my oldest is in awe at the giraffes as I have been, so I give it a minute or two more. Finally I get up close and personal with her and ask if she's ready to move on. And here it comes again.
Her: "I'm so bored."
Me: "Really? You don't like the zoo? The giraffes are so beautiful."
Her: "It's just that I'd rather be home. Or playing with my friends."
Oh Lordy. We are there. We have arrived at the I'd-rather-be-with-my-friends-than-with-my-family point. I had always thought that we'd be one of those families that would love doing stuff together...forever. Really I didn't see an end in sight. Maybe because I wasn't prepared to, and I'm still not ready for it today.
At that point I snap. "Okay then, let's go home."
And that's what we do. As I creep lower and lower back into that valley of self-pity, we march back to the parking lot, me lecturing my daughter the whole time about appreciating what's in front of her and not always wishing she were someplace else. A lesson that I seem to be constantly working on myself these days. We get to the car and pack it all up and go, screaming baby and all. It's like a bad movie at this point.
Gee, so glad we got out of the house for a great adventure.
On the ride home our son falls asleep right away since he's overdue for his nap. Toward the end my oldest falls asleep, just as our middle child is waking up from a brief nap and expresses her dire need for a drink.
Against my better judgement to just wait and give her the water bottle when we arrive home in 5 minutes, I try to throw it back to the 3rd row to her. The first try doesn't make it over the 2nd row, so I try a little harder the next time. And it lands SMACK in my oldests' peacefully sleeping face.
I have now officially arrived at the depths of the valley of self-pity. Please disembark here if you feel like an idiot that is underappreciated, overworked and insane.
My oldest starts bawling, wakes up the baby, who then joins her in a chorus of cries that fill the car. I literally use all of my willpower to stay in the car and stay quiet, while in my mind I tell my husband to stop the car and I get out and walk the rest of the way home.
Where does it go from here, you ask? Well I storm into the house and let everyone feel my mood. Not that they needed any help here. Then I grab my middle child and head out to her friend's birthday party. My husband asks if I want to stay home while he takes them all, and I say no, explaining that our four year old daughter is actually the only one in the house that knows how to have fun anymore, so I'd much rather stick with her.
True to form, my daughter and I have a great time at another Pump It Up party (will they ever end?). Since she's still shy in these circumstances, we just play the two of us through all the obstacle courses and the jumpy houses, friends joining in at times. She shoots hoops for about 30 minutes straight, reconfirming my notion that she will indeed be the jock in the house (at least until her little brother catches up). We slide, jump, tickle and laugh. And laugh some more.
And I'm back up on the peak of gratitude. We eat our pizza and cake, collect her party favor and head home.
Then what happens, you ask? Well everything is fine until my oldests' friend calls to ask her to come over for a sleepover. We already told her "no" last weekend, putting it off until this weekend. Then she came down with this cough/flu, so we said "no" last night, putting it off until tonight. And now my husband draws the line and says "no, not this weekend".
Tears ensue as she begs and pleads to get her way. If there's one thing I'm tired of these days its all the begging, pleading and whining in my days.
So I slide back down the slippery slope to bad moodland. But this time I decide to fight it. I gather all the patience I never knew I had in reserve, grab my oldest in a big embrace on the living room couch and talk with her about what's going on. While she's on my lap we have a sweet and sincere moment of gratitude, appreciating each other and reconnecting our emotional ties that were severed throughout the day.
Then my other two join in and all three of my kids are in my lap giving me more love than I can handle, and exactly what I needed. My husband then joins us and we play a round of catch with a beach ball and just sit in our living room enjoying each other, laughing and playing.
My husband and I then have a humorous "maybe we should stay home more" laugh.
I'm end the day back on the peak of gratitude.
I guess it's true what they say. All's well that ends well.
Lately my husband and I have been saying that we need to get our family out doing more things. We shied off of that a bit when we added a third VERY active child to the family. We have been thinking that maybe it's easier if we all have something fun to do and look at instead of sitting around the house mediating sibling battles and cleaning up messes.
That being said, a month or two ago I signed my oldest up for a Girl Scout outing to the Oakland Zoo. I thought it sounded like fun at the time since we'd never been there before and I'd heard good things about it. At the time I was worried about the weather, but little did I know that we'd have such a beautiful day. So, putting to work the new motto of getting out more often, we head over there this morning and I'm optimistic about a fun day ahead of us out of the house.
In a nutshell, I will concur with the positive reviews of the zoo. It has a whole section of kids rides and it's attractions are more centrally located than the San Francisco zoo. Not that I saw any of them.
The little educational 'class' that my daughter and I did was just limited to one area of the zoo. We saw bugs, alligators, turtles, snakes, rabbits and a couple other odds and ends. The big guns were all elsewhere in the zoo and not on our tour. Which is probably why about one and a half hours of the way through the 2 hour tour, my daughter used the "b" word.
"This is boring."
How I hate that word. It brings up so many issues. Am I underestimating her amusement level with these things? Is she not interested in animals anymore? How could I be off the mark here? Or is she bored because she's a boring person, as the saying goes? Am I a boring mom? Should we not be getting out of the house more? Is it worth it?
So I ruminate on all that crap while she suffers throughout the rest of the mini-tour, earns her badge, and then we are outta there. It's noon by this time and we are starving, so we meet up with my husband and two little ones and head to the cafe. Of course I'm in a not-so-great mood at this point because I'm hungry and I feel as if I wasted all of our time, according to my daughter's sourpuss face. I'm cruising downhill to the valley of self-pity.
My husband meanwhile was a trooper taking the little two on a tour of the rest of the entire zoo, getting a workout along the way carrying one or both of them around while saying hello to the monkeys and elephants.
After eating I'm feeling a bit better, despite the fact that my husband and I never really sat down to eat our lunch and instead took turns chasing our wandering son around in between his wailing battles to stay at our table.
So we head out to explore the rest of the zoo, which I hope is more to my oldests' liking. While we are gazing in amazement at the giraffes (which are very close up at this zoo), I am feeling much better. I'm thinking that we might just salvage this day after all. Probably had something to do with the fact that I love the gentle beauty and gigantic elegance of the giraffe. I'm definitely headed back up the hill to a peak of gratitude.
I try to rally the troops to go to the next animal, but no one is moving. It looks like my oldest is in awe at the giraffes as I have been, so I give it a minute or two more. Finally I get up close and personal with her and ask if she's ready to move on. And here it comes again.
Her: "I'm so bored."
Me: "Really? You don't like the zoo? The giraffes are so beautiful."
Her: "It's just that I'd rather be home. Or playing with my friends."
Oh Lordy. We are there. We have arrived at the I'd-rather-be-with-my-friends-than-with-my-family point. I had always thought that we'd be one of those families that would love doing stuff together...forever. Really I didn't see an end in sight. Maybe because I wasn't prepared to, and I'm still not ready for it today.
At that point I snap. "Okay then, let's go home."
And that's what we do. As I creep lower and lower back into that valley of self-pity, we march back to the parking lot, me lecturing my daughter the whole time about appreciating what's in front of her and not always wishing she were someplace else. A lesson that I seem to be constantly working on myself these days. We get to the car and pack it all up and go, screaming baby and all. It's like a bad movie at this point.
Gee, so glad we got out of the house for a great adventure.
On the ride home our son falls asleep right away since he's overdue for his nap. Toward the end my oldest falls asleep, just as our middle child is waking up from a brief nap and expresses her dire need for a drink.
Against my better judgement to just wait and give her the water bottle when we arrive home in 5 minutes, I try to throw it back to the 3rd row to her. The first try doesn't make it over the 2nd row, so I try a little harder the next time. And it lands SMACK in my oldests' peacefully sleeping face.
I have now officially arrived at the depths of the valley of self-pity. Please disembark here if you feel like an idiot that is underappreciated, overworked and insane.
My oldest starts bawling, wakes up the baby, who then joins her in a chorus of cries that fill the car. I literally use all of my willpower to stay in the car and stay quiet, while in my mind I tell my husband to stop the car and I get out and walk the rest of the way home.
Where does it go from here, you ask? Well I storm into the house and let everyone feel my mood. Not that they needed any help here. Then I grab my middle child and head out to her friend's birthday party. My husband asks if I want to stay home while he takes them all, and I say no, explaining that our four year old daughter is actually the only one in the house that knows how to have fun anymore, so I'd much rather stick with her.
True to form, my daughter and I have a great time at another Pump It Up party (will they ever end?). Since she's still shy in these circumstances, we just play the two of us through all the obstacle courses and the jumpy houses, friends joining in at times. She shoots hoops for about 30 minutes straight, reconfirming my notion that she will indeed be the jock in the house (at least until her little brother catches up). We slide, jump, tickle and laugh. And laugh some more.
And I'm back up on the peak of gratitude. We eat our pizza and cake, collect her party favor and head home.
Then what happens, you ask? Well everything is fine until my oldests' friend calls to ask her to come over for a sleepover. We already told her "no" last weekend, putting it off until this weekend. Then she came down with this cough/flu, so we said "no" last night, putting it off until tonight. And now my husband draws the line and says "no, not this weekend".
Tears ensue as she begs and pleads to get her way. If there's one thing I'm tired of these days its all the begging, pleading and whining in my days.
So I slide back down the slippery slope to bad moodland. But this time I decide to fight it. I gather all the patience I never knew I had in reserve, grab my oldest in a big embrace on the living room couch and talk with her about what's going on. While she's on my lap we have a sweet and sincere moment of gratitude, appreciating each other and reconnecting our emotional ties that were severed throughout the day.
Then my other two join in and all three of my kids are in my lap giving me more love than I can handle, and exactly what I needed. My husband then joins us and we play a round of catch with a beach ball and just sit in our living room enjoying each other, laughing and playing.
My husband and I then have a humorous "maybe we should stay home more" laugh.
I'm end the day back on the peak of gratitude.
I guess it's true what they say. All's well that ends well.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
The Good, The Bad, and The Crazy
THE GOOD:
My younger daughter seems to be progressing even more in overcoming her shyness. At school drop-offs she is actually going off to find a friend to play with instead of needing teacher interference. She still doesn't give an official "good-bye" when she wanders away, but I'll take her content enough to separate without crying or whining anyday.
She is also now fully participating in her gymnastics class. She has been going to the same place for 2 years now, and to date she had never really actively joined in the warm up time. Since this part of the class begins with circle time and talking, you can see why it never appealed to her. And even when they would get up and run around, she'd just sit and watch all by herself until it was time to start the gymnastics portion of the class. Then she was full tilt, showing her athleticism with pride. But as of the last two sessions, she is now rocking and rolling from the get-go, participating in circle time and warm up activities.
Then, just to prove that miracles really do happen, she started playing with a little girl she had never met before. This is absolutely unheard of in her four year old life to date. We were at her big sister's gymnastics class and this other little sister was lurking around, looking for a playmate to pass the time. While my daughter did not step right up and introduce herself (I had to do that part for her) she did participate as soon as this other outgoing little girl initiated some play time. I sat there and watched in amazement as the two of them played, giggled, and even talked with each other.
THE BAD:
This same daughter of mine had a bad spell with nighttime potty accidents during the holidays. After four nights in a row (you'd think we might have learned our lesson after two or three) we went back to taking her to the bathroom after she's gone to sleep, around 10pm. My theory was that she was just so tired from all the family in town and craziness of the holidays that she was sleeping deep enough not to wake up when the urge struck. We thought we had the problem kicked and stopped taking her at night about a week ago. Then she fell off the wagon again last night. To share the blame, we did not remember to take her to the bathroom when she went to bed, so that could have helped. And we should have because she had a lot to drink with dinner. Nonetheless, it made for another tiring episode sheet changing and pajama swapping during the night.
The kicker is she wasn't the one to wake me up in the first place. The other bad going on in our family right now is that my other two kids are sick. They have horrible coughs and my oldest has had a fever (just once a day) every day for the past several days. Her coughing was making such a hacking sound that I got up to check on her last night, and before I could reach her I ran into my little wet one.
Then I spent the next hour and a half thinking all kinds of thoughts instead of sleeping. Like, should I take them to the doctor? What will the doctor say? Is our doctor back from her leave yet? Wasn't I supposed to take the girls for their wellness checks soon? Why haven't they called me for a reminder appointment? I can't forget to call and tell the school that she is staying home again tomorrow. And call our carpool friend too. Why did (the other) she have another accident? Has she not been sleeping enough? Why has she been sooooooo whiny lately?
You can see how much fun that was. Almost as much fun as listening to my younger daughter re-exercise her inner whiny self lately. I thought we kicked that habit too, but it is rearing it's ugly head again. Whine, whine, whine. Cry, cry, cry. Fuss, fuss, fuss. That's how her day goes. Throw in a good jab or two at her sister, some wrestling with her brother, and a few bumps and bruises and you've about covered it.
Which brings me to the last topic.
THE CRAZY
That'd be me. Home for two days on my own with my kids, barely even seeing the beautiful sunshine we are having these days, let alone feeling it. Listening to the baby cry (he now has fevers) and my other two whine. With the occasional bout of calm throughout the house, since the one side benefit is that my son naps a lot when he's sick. And our unwritten rule is that if anyone stays home from school they get to watch about as much television as they can stand.
So now it's my turn.
Whine, whine, whine. Cry, cry, cry. Tears dropping right into my wine glass.
My younger daughter seems to be progressing even more in overcoming her shyness. At school drop-offs she is actually going off to find a friend to play with instead of needing teacher interference. She still doesn't give an official "good-bye" when she wanders away, but I'll take her content enough to separate without crying or whining anyday.
She is also now fully participating in her gymnastics class. She has been going to the same place for 2 years now, and to date she had never really actively joined in the warm up time. Since this part of the class begins with circle time and talking, you can see why it never appealed to her. And even when they would get up and run around, she'd just sit and watch all by herself until it was time to start the gymnastics portion of the class. Then she was full tilt, showing her athleticism with pride. But as of the last two sessions, she is now rocking and rolling from the get-go, participating in circle time and warm up activities.
Then, just to prove that miracles really do happen, she started playing with a little girl she had never met before. This is absolutely unheard of in her four year old life to date. We were at her big sister's gymnastics class and this other little sister was lurking around, looking for a playmate to pass the time. While my daughter did not step right up and introduce herself (I had to do that part for her) she did participate as soon as this other outgoing little girl initiated some play time. I sat there and watched in amazement as the two of them played, giggled, and even talked with each other.
THE BAD:
This same daughter of mine had a bad spell with nighttime potty accidents during the holidays. After four nights in a row (you'd think we might have learned our lesson after two or three) we went back to taking her to the bathroom after she's gone to sleep, around 10pm. My theory was that she was just so tired from all the family in town and craziness of the holidays that she was sleeping deep enough not to wake up when the urge struck. We thought we had the problem kicked and stopped taking her at night about a week ago. Then she fell off the wagon again last night. To share the blame, we did not remember to take her to the bathroom when she went to bed, so that could have helped. And we should have because she had a lot to drink with dinner. Nonetheless, it made for another tiring episode sheet changing and pajama swapping during the night.
The kicker is she wasn't the one to wake me up in the first place. The other bad going on in our family right now is that my other two kids are sick. They have horrible coughs and my oldest has had a fever (just once a day) every day for the past several days. Her coughing was making such a hacking sound that I got up to check on her last night, and before I could reach her I ran into my little wet one.
Then I spent the next hour and a half thinking all kinds of thoughts instead of sleeping. Like, should I take them to the doctor? What will the doctor say? Is our doctor back from her leave yet? Wasn't I supposed to take the girls for their wellness checks soon? Why haven't they called me for a reminder appointment? I can't forget to call and tell the school that she is staying home again tomorrow. And call our carpool friend too. Why did (the other) she have another accident? Has she not been sleeping enough? Why has she been sooooooo whiny lately?
You can see how much fun that was. Almost as much fun as listening to my younger daughter re-exercise her inner whiny self lately. I thought we kicked that habit too, but it is rearing it's ugly head again. Whine, whine, whine. Cry, cry, cry. Fuss, fuss, fuss. That's how her day goes. Throw in a good jab or two at her sister, some wrestling with her brother, and a few bumps and bruises and you've about covered it.
Which brings me to the last topic.
THE CRAZY
That'd be me. Home for two days on my own with my kids, barely even seeing the beautiful sunshine we are having these days, let alone feeling it. Listening to the baby cry (he now has fevers) and my other two whine. With the occasional bout of calm throughout the house, since the one side benefit is that my son naps a lot when he's sick. And our unwritten rule is that if anyone stays home from school they get to watch about as much television as they can stand.
So now it's my turn.
Whine, whine, whine. Cry, cry, cry. Tears dropping right into my wine glass.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Please Remain Calm
As I've mentioned in a recent post, my son is experiencing a great deal of faceplants these days. Which are leading to a great deal of nosebleeds.
The worst one yet took place just after I wrote that post. We were at Pump It Up, the toddler birthday party version of Girls Gone Wild, for the party of one of my younger daughter's classmates. If you've ever been to one of these jumpy-house-places-on-crack you would know that there are any number of places he could have knocked his noggin. And most of them are soft. Although, while he played with the basketball in one of the jump houses, I was just waiting for it to land smack on his face as he looked up to see where it went. I at least figured he was in for a good body slam with one of the many "big kids" that were jumping like crazy and bouncing off the walls.
But, no. Nothing that complex for my son.
Instead he decided to, in the middle of absolutely nothing, spin around in circles on the floor (no, not a jumpy house) and make himself so dizzy that he fell over. Flat on his face.
It was a work of genius.
About two point two seconds after he looks up at me bawling, I see a gusher starting. I did stay calm and took him out to the bathroom where we eventually got it all cleaned up. It frightened the girl working there enough that she went running for an ice pack. But he's a tough guy and he didn't want that sissy ice.
Once he was cleaned up he just wanted to get back into the ring. So we went off bouncing and sliding again, thankfully blood free for the rest of the event.
I have to say that I was really calm during it all. Must be because of all the tactical, high level training he's put me through lately.
But then today I saw the aftermath of a little girls face meeting some concrete outside my younger daughter's school. And I almost lost my lunch.
I know, I know. Not even my own kid. But I guess when it's your kid you have more adrenaline keeping you in control. Or you aren't such a gawker because you are thinking about how the hell you are going to stop the bleeding, all the while scanning your Mommy GPS to figure out the whereabouts of the nearest hospital.
Plus, this poor little girl was bleeding WAY more than my son's nose ever did, most likely because she was bleeding in her mouth as well. There was so much blood that her mom couldn't tell where it was coming from, and all the while the girl is crying profusely and starting to gag, presumably because she's swallowing some of the blood. It just wasn't pretty.
My heart went out to them, and I offered wipes. Yes, wipes. It's all I could come up with. Another mom had gone for paper towels and help from the school office, and another mom was following directions and fetching the little girls pacifier from their car. Clearly they were a lot more helpful than me.
And while I'm there with what I'm sure was a terrified look on my face, doing so little that picking my nose would have been a viable option, the mom of this girl is staying very calm. She's trying to wipe her daughter's face and figure out where she's bleeding. And she even thought about getting the pacifier out of the car so the girl would stop crying and hold still.
Eventually all I could do was duck into my car and go. I did wait until other help arrived, and I even gave my feeble, but true, excuse that I had to go pick up my son.
So I got back in the car and for the next 10 minutes I felt nauseous and spaced out. I couldn't even hold a conversation with my 4 year old to save my life.
That one really knocked me for a loop. It made me wonder just how I would have acted in the same situation. I only hope that I will be as calm as this woman was today.
Because I can tell you with absolute certainty that I will be in a similar situation one day. The odds are just with me, given that I have three children, and one of them is a spin-around-in-circles-and-fall-flat-on-my-face kind of kid.
The worst one yet took place just after I wrote that post. We were at Pump It Up, the toddler birthday party version of Girls Gone Wild, for the party of one of my younger daughter's classmates. If you've ever been to one of these jumpy-house-places-on-crack you would know that there are any number of places he could have knocked his noggin. And most of them are soft. Although, while he played with the basketball in one of the jump houses, I was just waiting for it to land smack on his face as he looked up to see where it went. I at least figured he was in for a good body slam with one of the many "big kids" that were jumping like crazy and bouncing off the walls.
But, no. Nothing that complex for my son.
Instead he decided to, in the middle of absolutely nothing, spin around in circles on the floor (no, not a jumpy house) and make himself so dizzy that he fell over. Flat on his face.
It was a work of genius.
About two point two seconds after he looks up at me bawling, I see a gusher starting. I did stay calm and took him out to the bathroom where we eventually got it all cleaned up. It frightened the girl working there enough that she went running for an ice pack. But he's a tough guy and he didn't want that sissy ice.
Once he was cleaned up he just wanted to get back into the ring. So we went off bouncing and sliding again, thankfully blood free for the rest of the event.
I have to say that I was really calm during it all. Must be because of all the tactical, high level training he's put me through lately.
But then today I saw the aftermath of a little girls face meeting some concrete outside my younger daughter's school. And I almost lost my lunch.
I know, I know. Not even my own kid. But I guess when it's your kid you have more adrenaline keeping you in control. Or you aren't such a gawker because you are thinking about how the hell you are going to stop the bleeding, all the while scanning your Mommy GPS to figure out the whereabouts of the nearest hospital.
Plus, this poor little girl was bleeding WAY more than my son's nose ever did, most likely because she was bleeding in her mouth as well. There was so much blood that her mom couldn't tell where it was coming from, and all the while the girl is crying profusely and starting to gag, presumably because she's swallowing some of the blood. It just wasn't pretty.
My heart went out to them, and I offered wipes. Yes, wipes. It's all I could come up with. Another mom had gone for paper towels and help from the school office, and another mom was following directions and fetching the little girls pacifier from their car. Clearly they were a lot more helpful than me.
And while I'm there with what I'm sure was a terrified look on my face, doing so little that picking my nose would have been a viable option, the mom of this girl is staying very calm. She's trying to wipe her daughter's face and figure out where she's bleeding. And she even thought about getting the pacifier out of the car so the girl would stop crying and hold still.
Eventually all I could do was duck into my car and go. I did wait until other help arrived, and I even gave my feeble, but true, excuse that I had to go pick up my son.
So I got back in the car and for the next 10 minutes I felt nauseous and spaced out. I couldn't even hold a conversation with my 4 year old to save my life.
That one really knocked me for a loop. It made me wonder just how I would have acted in the same situation. I only hope that I will be as calm as this woman was today.
Because I can tell you with absolute certainty that I will be in a similar situation one day. The odds are just with me, given that I have three children, and one of them is a spin-around-in-circles-and-fall-flat-on-my-face kind of kid.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Play More, Plug In Less
Like a lot of people this time of year, I spent time and energy, and too much money, finding toys for my kids. On top of the good tidings of joy in December, I also had two of my kids' birthdays. So needless to say, I shopped til I dropped.
I combed the internet to find the most highly recommended and best priced items. I made a dozen trips to Target in the span of about 5 days. Plus I doled out ideas to grandparents and aunts and uncles.
I had it all covered. More so than I ever imagined.
Little did I know that all I really needed to do was go by the back of a store and pick up boxes and packaging. For free.
After all the gifts were unwrapped and the paper and ribbons were strewn around the house. After all the games were opened, pieces put together and cards shuffled. And after all the electronics were loaded and charged. All my kids wanted to play with (at least for the past two days) is cardboard boxes, styrofoam packaging, and a giveaway inflatable ball.
Granted they did spend a couple of days reveling in all the new products purchased for their entertainment. And there were lots of smiles and thank yous, to both family and Santa.
And then the moved on.
To the land of imagination.
The other day the girls were in the garage where we had a huge pile of cardboard boxes and packaging set aside for recycling. My oldest took two cardboard pieces that were used to keep an appliance in the box - the kind that are shaped funny to fit the item so it doesn't move around - and turned them into two "desks", one for her and one for her sister. They were playing school, and of course she was the teacher. They had their paper and markers nestled into all the nooks and crannies. Even a couple of pet rocks managed to find their way into the game. Talk about a cheap toy. So they played happily for a couple of hours with their imaginations taking charge and nary an electronic in sight.
Then this morning they enjoyed a rousing game of Monkey in the Middle with the inflatable ball that we have had for about four years and which came to our family via a giveaway at a park event. Another hour marked by some good old fashioned fun.
This afternoon my oldest took a couple of large styrofoam pieces - once again the kind used to keep an appliance (that we finally unpacked) snug in its box - and she put them together to make a "castle". Then she took a sharpie pen and wrote on it, deeming it the "Castle of Pop". Into it's nooks and crannies she put all the confetti that came out of the 'poppers' that we did for our New Year's celebration last night.
Once again her imagination takes flight. She sees so many possibilities in the things that I never even look at, much less decide are worth keeping. I'm envious that she can soar so high and see so far.
I think that needs to be one of my new years resolutions.
Plug in less, turn on less, rely on less.
See more, imagine more, play more.
I combed the internet to find the most highly recommended and best priced items. I made a dozen trips to Target in the span of about 5 days. Plus I doled out ideas to grandparents and aunts and uncles.
I had it all covered. More so than I ever imagined.
Little did I know that all I really needed to do was go by the back of a store and pick up boxes and packaging. For free.
After all the gifts were unwrapped and the paper and ribbons were strewn around the house. After all the games were opened, pieces put together and cards shuffled. And after all the electronics were loaded and charged. All my kids wanted to play with (at least for the past two days) is cardboard boxes, styrofoam packaging, and a giveaway inflatable ball.
Granted they did spend a couple of days reveling in all the new products purchased for their entertainment. And there were lots of smiles and thank yous, to both family and Santa.
And then the moved on.
To the land of imagination.
The other day the girls were in the garage where we had a huge pile of cardboard boxes and packaging set aside for recycling. My oldest took two cardboard pieces that were used to keep an appliance in the box - the kind that are shaped funny to fit the item so it doesn't move around - and turned them into two "desks", one for her and one for her sister. They were playing school, and of course she was the teacher. They had their paper and markers nestled into all the nooks and crannies. Even a couple of pet rocks managed to find their way into the game. Talk about a cheap toy. So they played happily for a couple of hours with their imaginations taking charge and nary an electronic in sight.
Then this morning they enjoyed a rousing game of Monkey in the Middle with the inflatable ball that we have had for about four years and which came to our family via a giveaway at a park event. Another hour marked by some good old fashioned fun.
This afternoon my oldest took a couple of large styrofoam pieces - once again the kind used to keep an appliance (that we finally unpacked) snug in its box - and she put them together to make a "castle". Then she took a sharpie pen and wrote on it, deeming it the "Castle of Pop". Into it's nooks and crannies she put all the confetti that came out of the 'poppers' that we did for our New Year's celebration last night.
Once again her imagination takes flight. She sees so many possibilities in the things that I never even look at, much less decide are worth keeping. I'm envious that she can soar so high and see so far.
I think that needs to be one of my new years resolutions.
Plug in less, turn on less, rely on less.
See more, imagine more, play more.
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