Can I get a head count of how many of you count to anywhere between 1 & 5 to get your kids to do something? I do it all the time. All the time, despite wondering what this means about my parenting skills, I prefer it to yelling or spanking both of which I have been known to do on occasion.
So...Little Man was sick, but coming out of it. We were packing up to go to daycare and work. I was trying to get my almost 4 year old, who is fairly self-sufficient, to get on his jacket. My attempts fell on the heels of him not wanting to get out of bed, not wanting to brush his teeth, not wanting to come downstairs...I was already annoyed. So when he wouldn't put his jacket on this is the unbelievable conversation we had:
Me: "little man. Put. Your. Jacket. On. Now."
Little Man: Waaaaa, Waaaa, Waaaa. "I can't. I don't know how."
Me: "If you do not put your jacket on by the time I count to 5, there will be no movie in the car."
Little Man: Waaaaa, Waaaa, Waaaa. "I can't."
Me: One.
Little Man: Waaaaa. Waaaa. Waaaa.
Me: Two.
Little Man: Ahhhhh. Waaaa. Ahhhh. "STOP COUNTING."
Me: "Three."
Little Man: WHAAAAAAAAA. "STOP COUNTING YOU IDIOT!"
Me: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I could not believe my ears. Did my precious Little Man, whom I carried in my womb for 9 months, whom I nursed for one year, whom I snuggle when he's hurt, just call me an idiot and use it in perfect context? By the time I was done yelling at him up one side and down the other, I am fairly certain he will not say the word IDIOT ever again.
When it was all said and done, I realized that he really doesn't know what an idiot is. He knew how to use it in context, knew that it is a name you call another person, but didn't really know what it meant. What I wonder, however, is what's the next horrible thing he's going to call me and how long will I be waiting for that one?
Where have I been? I have been through Pneumonia with 2 kids, an ear infection, 2 teeth and melanoma. It's been a rough couple of weeks, but I think we have pulled through it.
So Little Man started with a fever one Sunday and just wasn't feeling good. I did what any good parent would do when he woke with a fever on Monday morning (and I had to be to work because my boss was on vacation and 8 new employees were starting that day), I loaded him up with tylenol and motrin and sent him to daycare. I get so angry at those parents...darn them for exposing my child, then I went and did it myself. He was okay at the end of the day and for the rest of the week. Then the next Saturday he woke at 1:30am crying in pain. I went in and calmed him down, he felt warm but I didn't do anything about it. He woke again at 2:45am. That time he was burning up and taking very short and shallow breaths. I gave him some motrin and breathing treatment. He was breathing normally during the treatment, but went right back to short shallow breaths as soon as I took the mask off. I took him back to my room, then decided to take him to the ER (30 minutes away). By the time we got there, his fever was gone and he was breathing normally. $100 later, we got sent home.
He threw up Saturday morning then he was in and out of a fever of over 102. By Sunday I couldn't get his fever down. At one point he had a temp of 102.5, I gave him motrin, and checked him 45 minutes later - he was up to 104.1. I called the pediatrician who said to take him in. This time I took him to the best hospital in the area (45 minutes away) that has a pediatrician on in the ER staff at all times. Another $100 later we found out he had bacterial pneumonia. Oh...and by the way, since your daughter is cranky and running a low grade temp take her to the pediatrician tomorrow.
Little Man got his antibiotic on Sunday and starting taking that with the probiotic miracle powder (if you haven't used this stuff for your kids when they are taking antibiotics, start - it's great).
On Monday Ladybug went to the doctor where we discovered she had viral pneumonia and an ear infection. Hellllooooo....this explains why my normally easy going child was being a cranky and clingy mess. Poor little thing cut 2 teeth during this whole thing.
Both came out of it like troopers and are back to normal. During this whole thing we also discovered that the hubs had another Melanoma. If you are counting, I think this makes #5. It was another one that he found himself and asked to have it removed. Another one where the doctor thought it was nothing but removed it anyway. The path report came back last week, and thank goodness it was a melanoma that was just on the skin level; it hadn't gone in any deeper.
The doctor seems to think that he is rare because his body is making melanomas out of moles that appear to the normal run-of-the-mill moles. This rarity does not make me feel good. It actually scares this crap out of me because he has hundreds of moles and we just don't know what's lurking in any of them. The doctor suggested that he get back in touch with his doctor at Mass General in Boston because he is the number one guy in the country for up and coming genetic testing for melanoma. I am working on the hubs for this. I am also working on getting him to call his oncologist, whom he only sees once per year, about a full-body scan.
After all of that, I was sitting in my office last week listening to two of my co-workers (just outside my office door) discuss the pros and cons of a particular tanning salon in the area. I wanted to scream at them!
So what appeared to be a long bloggy vacation wasn't a vacation at all. It was a time of sickness and healing.
Little Man has reached the phase where he says, "Owe!" over and over again until some responds with, "Are you okay?" or "What happened?" Some might find this phase endearing; I find it annoying. Seriously - a minor trip or a small bump to the leg does not require my mommy medical attention. My mommy medical attention, however is what he gets...simply to save my sanity, I respond after hearing "owe!" 3 - 4 times.
Yesterday morning I was in the kitchen at 6am preparing my lunch, my bag and the daycare bags before heading up to get the kids. I mistakenly left the monitors on overnight, so I heard a sleepy "Owe." "Owe." "Owe." "Owe." "Owe." "Owe." then an annoyed "Owe." "Owe." "Owe." "Owe." "Owe." "Owe."
I knew that I needed to make my move or he would just keep going for the next 15 minutes. I went upstairs and this is how the conversation went:
Me: What's the matter buddy?
Little Man: That wall hit me in the face.
Me: Are you okay?
Little Man: Yeah, but the wall just hit me in the face.
Me: That stinky wall. Can you go back to sleep for a few minutes?
Little Man: Yeah.
Fast forward and hour and we are at Daycare. Here was the conversation that took place there as we walked in the door.
Little Man: Miss Cathi. The wall hit me in the face this morning.
Miss Cathy: Why'd the wall go and do that?
Little Man: I don't know.
Miss Cathy: Darn wall.
And this was the way the morning starting. This little episode I did find endearing and humorous, thereby making it an exception to my "this is so annoying" typical attitude to this phase.
Little Man had a serious case of bed head following his nap. I had to capture it - doesn't he look so sweet in this picture??? It makes me wonder why the grumpies have to come out in him.
Little Man's preschool teacher, bless her heart, tries so hard when it comes to educating the kids around holidays. Yesterday was MLK Day, and Little Man must have had a lesson on it at school that day. He woke this morning telling us that if your skin was a different color you couldn't eat in restaurants. He believes that to be a current day thing. When I tried to explain to him that it was a long time ago, he was adamant that it was happening now and that Miss Fran knows all.
Now I find myself in a battle of wondering what is and isn't age appropriate. When I asked my son what dreidel was in December, he told me it was "a Jewish." Sometimes I think kids are too young to understand the depth of things. When I taught first grade we read the age appropriate books (according to scholastic) on MLK, talked about our visual differences and did an art project celebrating MLK. My conversation did not delve any deeper than "we are all the same on the inside." So, should a 3 year need to understand that our country used to have horribly insane and incomprehensible rules that made people sit in the back of the bus based on their skin color? I gotta say "no" on this one. I think he is way too young to comprehend it. Perhaps a lesson on what's the same and what's different would have been more appropriate at his age. I say let me and his teachers in 3rd, 4th and 5th grade further educate them on the day.
Little Man's Letter to the Guy in Red:
Dear Santa Claus,
Please can you go put presents at Grandma and Pappa's and Timmy's house? Please bring the presents to my house early. We will have Christmas at my house on December 20th. Can you bring them for that day?
Please bring me Team Geotrax High Flying Airport and the Team Geotrax Blast-Through Barn. I would also like the barn from Word World. Please bring Team Geotrax. It is my favorite. I love Team Geotrax.
I have been a good boy this year. I have been trying to listen to my Mommy and Daddy. I have been trying to eat my food. I have been tying to put Team Geotrax upstairs so it's not messy. I have been praying to Jesus and have been thankful everyday because Jesus goes in my heart. Amen.
Thank you, Santa. I love you.
I spent all day Friday and all day Saturday with Little Man. No breaks from each other. We had a nice time. Saturday I took him to the movies for the first time. He did really well.
Something must have happened while he was sleeping Saturday night because he woke a different child on Sunday. He was a nightmare. It was tantrum after tantrum. It was the worst day I have seen. Before it started I had planned to take him to a store with me to buy some white glue for a project we were going to work on. He didn't want to sit in the cart, so I let him walk. He started the non-listening phase of the trip about 10 minutes into it. I put up with it twice. The third time, he landed himself in the cart. The fourth time I took the glow necklaces he wanted from the cart. He flipped out. He started crying and screaming, then kicking.
I stopped in my tracks and did that low growly voice (you know the one...you have it too) in his ear and told him to knock it off. It only slightly improved. We got to the register and he started crying and screaming all over again. He saw the batteries and started grabbing at those. I told him no and that he could try again next time we were at the store. That only met more crying, screaming, kicking and grabbing. I half expected to see him start foaming at the mouth and for his head to turn completely around.
There I was standing in line surrounded by at least 10 others standing in line with a tantrum throwing 3 year old. I was that mom. I was the mom we all pity and wonder what kind of discipline she uses. I was horrified, angry and embarrassed all rolled into one. I pulled the cart out of the line, I picked his sorry little tushie up out of the cart and left. Did I make the right decision? I don't know, I do know that I am annoyed that I didn't get any of the stuff I wanted and am forced to go back tonight following bedtime.
The day didn't get any better. He continued to have tantrum after tantrum. It has continued on in to today. Is this normal? Does their horrendous behavior come in waves?
Happy Halloween from Little Man and Ladybug!
Our rocket!
Our ladybug!
Flashback Friday - First Emotion
Posted by Fratzels Labels: Flashback Friday, Ladybug, Little Man, Motherhood
Remember when you first laid eyes on that bundle of joy? That very first moment when you saw your baby? This week let’s flashback to that moment. No long labor stories, just raw emotion - what did you feel inside?
March 24th, 2005 Little Man made his debut at 5:05pm. When your first one is born, the emotion is so raw and overwhelming. I was so exhausted and so completely amazed that I had just given birth to a child. It was an amazing experience. I remember feeling annoyed that the doctor held him for what felt like an eternity. In retrospect, they probably only had him for less than a minute. The moment I laid eyes on him I started crying. Crying with joy and complete and total love. My heart was fuller than it had ever been. I didn't realize there was room in my heart for as much love.
March 14, 2008 Ladybug made her entrance sometime shortly after 8:00pm. Things went faster than they did with Little Man. I pushed like 3 times and it was over. The emotion wasn't as raw because I knew what to expect. I knew that my heart would expand to fit the love I had for her the moment I saw her. I was, of course, amazed that I gave birth to another child. I was even more amazed at how quick it happened. Then I just felt joy to have her in my arms and relief that she was healthy. While the doctors and nurses did their thing in my nether regions, I happily held her oblivious to the number of stitches and all the pushing and pulling taking place.
Last weekend I was in our guest room working on Little Man's Halloween costume. The guest room is where I keep the sewing machine. Little Man was all over me while I was making the costume. At some point he decided he didn't feel good and needed to lie down on the bed. Whatever, that was fine with me.
My parents will be here on Monday, so I went into the guest room this morning to strip the bed. As I was taking the sheets off, I noticed the bed was warm. "Hmmmm...that's strange," was my first thought. Then I realized that when my parents were here in the spring we loaded their bed up with an electric blanket (being from So Cal, they aren't really made for the arctic cold way in which we keep our house). While Little Man was climbing into the bed, he must have flipped on the switch. The electric blanket had been keeping that empty bed warm and toasty since Sunday! Awesome!
In anticipation of the increased electric bill, I had to warn the hubs. He was not impressed and didn't find it nearly as humorous as me.
Littl Man's collar bone is, in fact, broken. In looking at the x-ray, you can see that it actually looks bent. No wonder he was shrieking out in pain!
After cutting his long sleeved t-shirt off of him yesterday morning, I realized that I needed to get him a few button-up shirts. I planned to go to work (I don't baby him. I want him to learn to suck it up and shake it off to do things on his own despite what ailes him), but decided that Little Man should have a choice in it too (see...I have a heart). I asked him if he wanted to stay home or if he wanted to go to daycare and see his friends. He chose daycare, so off we went.
On the way to work, we stopped at Wal-Mart. All before 8:00am and 85 whopping dollars later, we took 2 trips to the bathroom, changed one poopy diaper, had 4 new shirts, a new shirt to sleep in, a new ice pack, an ace bandage, a diet coke, hair clips and a you're a brave boy present.
I dropped him off at daycare and left him with a scooby doo ice pack, bottles of medication, instructions to ask for help in using the bathroom and on not yelling at his teachers because he hurts.
I called daycare and checked on him at 9:30; he was doing fine. I called daycare to check on him at 11:30; he was doing fine. I left for an offsite meeting (cell phone in pocket) at 11:45. I was in said meeting until 1:00. I pulled my phone out of my pocket at the end to see that I had no cell service! Crap...I just knew that if anything was going to happen, it was going to be then. Sure enough, I had 5 missd calls and 3 voicemails.
Little Man was fine, but he had an appointment with an orthopedist (45 minutes away) in 1 hour. I picked him up and we were off. He was like a totally different kid from Tuesday. He was joking and happy the whole time. He even let the doctor examine him.
The only thing that came from the $35 specialist appointment was the confirmation that it was broken and a new sling. He has to wear the sling for 3 weeks! That's going to be tough to do for a little boy as rambunctious as him.
All in all, he seems to be doing much better. Lying down and getting up from the position still seem to be the most challenging for him. It is then that he cries out in pain, but is also fearful of the pain he might feel. In watching him play last night, I could see that he has already gotten used to using one hand. That one hand is good for playing, for helping him up off the floor, for helping him scooch on and off the toilet, for eating....so many more things. Kids are amazingly adaptive!
So I got a call from daycare today. Little Man and another kid collided while racing trucks around the playground. He began complaining of shoulder pain from the time it happened. I got the call a couple of hours after the fact. I went to daycare to check him out. He had full range of motion at the time and his collar bone didn't feel tender to the touch to him. I gave him some tylenol and went back to work while he took a nap. I got a call 2 hours later. He couldn't get off his mat from nap time. I got him immediately and took him to the doctor. He wouldn't let the doctor get anywhere near him. He cried in agony during the exam and shrieked out during one particular part where the doctor fully extended his arm. Little Man and me were both in tears at that point.
They sent us for x-rays, which didn't happen until after 5. I snuck a peek at the x-rays b/c little man wanted to see where the lady was disappearing to. I am not an expert, but it looks a little bent to me. I didn't get close enough to it to see an actual break, but it didn't look good to me. Because it was after 5, we will have to wait until tomorrow for results.
He had motrin at 4:30, more tylenol at 7:30 and more motrin at 9:30. By 9:45 I was on the phone with the on-call pediatrician who told me there was nothing else I could do. It's very, very heart-wrenching to hear your little one scream out in pain and agony and know there is nothing you can do to make it better.
He can't get comfortable. He can't put pressure on his left arm at all. When he tries to adjust his body to get into a comfortable sleeping position, he screams. At the present moment my little man is propped up on pillows and trying to sleep sitting up. If the last hour is any indication, it's going to be a long night.
He reached out for me, on impulse, at one point and started crying and say "owe, Mommy. Owe." It's difficult for any of us to control bodily impulses, but for a 3 year old who doesn't understand it's even more difficult.
During a calm conversation about 15 minutes ago:
he said: "Momma, how we gonna make this boo-boo better?"
I said: "I don't know. It's going to take a lot of sleep and rest."
Hubs said: "When you get some sleep, Jesus will be able to help make it better."
I may have to take a day off tomorrow. I feel incredibly guilty about that because I am supposed to be working from home one day a week. When life happens and I have to take other days, I feel like my attendance at work will be judged poorly. On top of all of that, my boss is on vacation so I am the only HR person. The agency will not fall down and crumble because HR isn't there, but I don't feel good about it at all.
My heartache and frustration has be in tears. Oh why can't we take the pain away from our children?
I am guilty of giving my child the overly processed, full of sugar, not-so-good-for-you breakfast pastry known as the Pop Tart (no offense kellogs, but it's true - you can try to market them as whole grain and low-fat, but nothing is going to change the bad-for-you-ness about them). I know what you are thinking: Reason number 723 why I won't be getting that "mom of the year" award.
Anyway, I usually buy the low fat version because they have less calories than the whole grain version. I figure I should cut back somewhere. The low fat version has frosting and sprinkles on it. The whole grain version has a squiggle of frosting on it.
A couple of weeks ago my grocery store was out of the low fat version, so I bought the whole grain version. This was met with a bit of discontent on Little Man's part. He demanded to know where the sprinkles were each and every morning.
The box, finally emptied, was in need of replinishing so at the grocery store yesterday I picked up aa new one. Little Man was with me. They actually had the low fat version. I handed it to Little Man, and this is the conversation that took place:
Me: Look, Little Man, I found the kind with sprinkles again.
Little Man: Strawberry?
Me: Yep, straberry.
Little Man: (whilst hugging said box of Pop Tarts) Oh Pop Tarts, I knew you'd come back to me.
Little Man has become obsessed with taking photos. He asks to use our camera on a daily basis (the camera, mind you, that I spent hours researching, that would break my heart if something happened to it - that camera).
Anyway, he's getting better. This is the picture he took of me and Ladybug a few mornings ago.
Do you have problems at the dinner table? We have had the hardest time getting Little Man to use his fork and spoon when eating. He is really starting to learn about table manners at daycare, so we am following suit and home. We talk about good manners all the time.
This lovely little gem comes to me from a good friend. It's how she gets her kids to use good table manners. Last night as I watched Little Man use his hands to shovel green beans into his mouth, I decided enough was enough. Us repeating, over and over, "use your fork...use your spoon" just wasn't working. I took a break from dinner and ran for the change bowl. I grabbed 10 pennies and lined them up in front of him. I told him they could all be his at the end of dinner if, and only if, he used his fork and spoon for each bite. I also told him that every time I saw him use his hands to eat that I would take away a penny.
Ahhhh...Little Man accepted the challenge. Can you, however, guess what happened the first time he lost a penny? He wigged out. His little lip was so low it was almost hitting the table. I had to explain the whole process again and let him know he had a chance to get the penny back the next night. He lost only one more penny after that and the reaction was less tearful. He ended the night using his spoon and fork for most of his meal. Losing only 2 pennies was far better than I expected.
If your child isn't into pennies, use something he or she is into. Marshmallows, pretzel sticks, stickers. Whatever it is, it will work. You can use it for anything at the table. Once we get the flatware mastered, we will move onto food dropped on the floor. Once that is mastered we will move to using a quiet voice at the table. The possibilities are endless.
Now I say to you, "Go forth and conquer those bad table manners!"
We have a hard time buying pudding pops because most are made in a facility that also processes eggs. With Little Man's egg allergy, we can't do that. We found a way around that little problem. We made our own using chocolate pudding a popsicle molds we found at Target and Dollar Tree.
Visit me at the Blog Mommas Baker's Nook today.
Little Man is learning to ride a bike. It's been a long road using his feet to push himself, then of pedaling backward, now we are finally going the right direction.
For now, he is only riding in the garage. Our driveway is a hill, and we can just see him riding down the hill and into the road. Granted, there are very few cars, but I still am not comfortable with it.
He's pretty safety conscious and doesn't balk at putting on his helmet; he even asks for it. Now I need to get him so elbow and knee pads.
You can also read another post by me at Blog Mommas Baker's Nook.
We went to the lake at Wadleigh State Park last weekend. It was our first lake outing of the summer, and a good time was had by all. It was 95 degrees with high humidity everywhere, but the lake had a nice gentle breeze blowing that kept is cool and beautiful.
I think we may have only gone to the lake once last summer, so I wasn't sure how Little Man would do with the water. Little Man got there, saw the water, put on his swim trunks, got in and stayed in. He was relentless. Among myself, Grandpa, Grammy and Uncle Football we were able to take turns watching him and enjoying the company of the family we were there with.
Even Ladybug got her toes wet. She spent most of her time up near the cookout and the family, but she meandered down a few times for a toe dip.
I have a feeling we are going to be spending many days at the lake this summer.
At 4:25am this morning my heart started to break. I woke to realize that Ladybug was passing a 4 hour stretch of sleep for the second time that night. I realized, even in my groggy state, that I needed to feed her right then. I needed to feed her because I needed to wake her at 6:15am to feed her before leaving for work.
As I was feeding her, gazing down and her pretty little face, my heart broke. As I am typing this, I am crying. I am going to miss my little Ladybug and Little Man. I am so sad that I can't give to Ladybug what I gave to Little Man.
I haven't even left the house yet, nor have I woke either children up. If I am crying now, what am I going to do at daycare?
Ladybug is such an easy going baby. She is quite a joy to be around and altogether lovely! Now that's she's here, it's difficult to remember our life without her. She fits in perfectly. We're getting into a routine and starting to do fun new things. I recently turned her around in the Baby Bjorn, and now that's the only way she'll ride. She likes to see the world around her. Now, when people say it goes by so fast, I know what they mean.
Have I mentioned that I am returning to work on Monday? No? That's because I am trying to avoid the subject altogether. It's coming up so quick; there's no avoiding it now.
When Little Man was a baby, I enjoyed the luxury of staying home with him for 2 years. Granted, that luxury came with a price. In order to make it work, we had to leave our home in the Boston suburbs for life in the back woods of New Hampshire. We made a lot of sacrifices, but I don't regret our decision. Eventually, the luxury wore itself out and I needed to go back to work 2 days after Little Man's 2nd birthday.
I made peace in my heart with that decision and decided I was a better mommy because of it. Daycare did wonders for him; he learned all his colors and shapes much faster than I would have thought to teach them to him; he learned to sit at a table and finish a meal; he learned to eat what he was served, and countless other things. It was good for him, and it was good for me.
Then along comes Ladybug 12 short weeks ago. I got to know what it was like to stay home again, and it was glorious (most of the time). I am looking forward to going back to work, and that's what's making me feel guilty. How can I possibly be looking forward to it when I feel so horrible that I can not give to Ladybug what I gave to Little Man? It's quite the internal battle of emotions.
