http://shine.yahoo.com/parenting/why-love-c-section-scar-150400581.html
^ YES!
I have had two c sections, and I am DAMN proud of it. I am so sick of the guilt and guilting that goes along with c section births. To begin with, the way I gave birth does NOT affect you, unlike, say, the decision whether or not to vaccinate a child. That decision happens to affect everyone in our society, so therefore, everyone is entitled to an opinion on your decision not to vaccinate. Accept that, and move on.
Not that it matters, but both of my sections were life saving; the first was to save my daughter's life, and the second was because the doctor felt very strongly that I was a high risk for uterine rupture based on many factors, and according to the surgeon who did the procedure, he was absolutely right. I would probably have blown like a geyser.
I will admit, I do regret not having had that moment of "Oh! I'm in labor!" Or that moment of "Push! Push!" But I am alive, and I have two healthy, beautiful little girls to show for it, so when women give me the pity face when they hear I had a couple of c sections, I just don't get it.
There are websites upon websites that are dedicated to helping women to "fight" against medical intervention during birth, and particularly against c sections. They see c sections as unnecessary interventions performed by doctors who lose patience with the poor, long-laboring woman, and just haul off and slice that kid right out, to the eternal detriment of child and mother. That DOES sound bad! Oh my. Either that, or they accuse women who've had c sections as lazy quitters who did it for vanity reasons. Unless I am considering a career change, far more people are likely to see my stomach than my vagina, so there's that.
I'd like to know what fantasy-land these women are living in. This is almost as bad as those wackadoos who talk about "birth rape." Get over yourselves. If you think you were "raped" by your birthing experience, I'd like to ask you quite seriously if you have ever really had anything bad happen to you, because it seems as though your definition of trauma is pretty fucked up.
I'd also like to point out that anything that happens to a woman in that birthing room is done with her consent. They may feel like they were "bullied" into a section or an epidural, but nonetheless, it was done with their consent unless they were quite literally dying and the doctor did what needed to be done whether they liked it or not. And even still, he probably tried damn hard to explain it to them and get consent before deciding that they were too addled from the dying and getting the consent from the father or partner.
But I digress. Two c sections, a healthy mama and two healthy babies. Why would anyone judge that? Why am I to be pitied? I really want to know. Why would anyone tell me that my daughter's near death experience was CAUSED by medicine, not solved by it? Here's what I know. Had I been stubborn and refused the section, my daughter would be dead. She was blue and it took about 5 minutes for them to get her breathing on her own. Had I refused the second section, I'd probably be dead, likely along with my daughter unless someone was able to rush me to an OR and get her cut out in time.
Do I think that there are too many sections happening in this country? Yes, probably. But I also think that it is none of my business. It doesn't affect me. We can play the trickle down game and say that it affects me because of insurance deductibles and blah blah blah, but that money all ends up back in the economy in one way or another, so I don't buy that argument. If, at the end of each birth, there is a healthy mama and baby, it isn't my business.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Thursday, June 20, 2013
A Proud Moment
We went shoe shopping today, and my normally reserved toddler apparently decided to drop a love bomb on a random woman. She was in her sixties, an employee of the shoe store, and a fairly nondescript person. As we walked by her, she smiled at my girls, and my toddler stopped in her tracks and turned to face her.
"You have a sparkle shirt! Thats so pretty," she said, staring at her.
"Oh my, thank you so much!" The woman's smile grew.
"Oh wow, you have buttons on you shoes!"
The woman looked at me, and made all sorts of cooing noises about my little girl and how sweet she was, but my girlie was just getting started.
"You have a heart neckie! (necklace) I love it! Oh, you face is bootiful! I like you yellow hair!"
This woman was melting faster than chocolate in August.
The woman's manager called her to help someone, and she drifted away unwillingly, as my little friend shouted "Goodbye! Pleased to met you!"
I'm not sure what drove my daughter to do this. She has never ever done this, even to people she knows and loves. This was a completely ordinary woman. When I got home and was telling my husband this story, he pointed out that our little girl is particularly perceptive and sensitive, and probably felt as though this woman needed this for some reason. I'd like to think so. It would be nice to think that my baby was that kind. I hope that woman smiled for the rest of the day.
"You have a sparkle shirt! Thats so pretty," she said, staring at her.
"Oh my, thank you so much!" The woman's smile grew.
"Oh wow, you have buttons on you shoes!"
The woman looked at me, and made all sorts of cooing noises about my little girl and how sweet she was, but my girlie was just getting started.
"You have a heart neckie! (necklace) I love it! Oh, you face is bootiful! I like you yellow hair!"
This woman was melting faster than chocolate in August.
The woman's manager called her to help someone, and she drifted away unwillingly, as my little friend shouted "Goodbye! Pleased to met you!"
I'm not sure what drove my daughter to do this. She has never ever done this, even to people she knows and loves. This was a completely ordinary woman. When I got home and was telling my husband this story, he pointed out that our little girl is particularly perceptive and sensitive, and probably felt as though this woman needed this for some reason. I'd like to think so. It would be nice to think that my baby was that kind. I hope that woman smiled for the rest of the day.
Monday, June 17, 2013
Falling Apart
My family is unraveling at the moment. I had knee surgery on Friday after a long 5 months of waiting. My knee was in pretty rough shape, and will likely require one more surgery to make it right, but in the meantime, this will hopefully improve the pain to tolerable. While I am out of commission, my family is kind of falling to pieces.
My husband is trying to be the mom, and is drowning in the housework. He cannot for the life of him figure out how to get anything done while holding a child or how to redirect them to go play independently, so he is either holding somebody OR getting something done. Which, as you moms know, is a recipe to get nothing done.
My oldest daughter is attaching herself to me like a limpet. She won't let me out of her sight without thinking that I'm leaving. If someone tries to take her away from me, she screams hysterically. And the amount of worrying over me that she is doing is really sad to see in a two year old. After I put ice on, she touches my knee and tells me it is too cold and I need a blankie for it. If I walk with one crutch instead of two, she comes flying after me with the other. Where is my brace? Put a pillow under it while I'm sitting. Go sit down. She even "fixes" it with cream because she is pretty sure that is what the doctor does whenever I have an appointment. She rubs cream all over my leg while adorably seriously saying "There, that's better. I you doctor, I make you better. I fix." Yes, incredibly cute, but way too heavy for a two year old.
And the baby. Well, she is taking this hard. When I was pregnant with her, I was in and out of the hospital for a few months. My older daughter would be very cool to me when I came home, and attach herself to whoever had been caring for her. The baby is doing the same, which is predictable because she is the same age as my older daughter was. It doesn't hurt my feelings. I understand why she is doing it, and that it is a normal reaction from a one year old when there is this kind of upheaval in her world. In a week or two, life will be back to normal, and we'll be back in our groove. What pisses me off is the way certain other people are reacting to this behavior of hers. There is some barely contained gloating which makes me want to fly off the handle. I can't say any more about that, but oh, I want to. I even typed it out, then deleted it. And then typed it out again, then deleted it again.
Both of my girls have also been behaving pretty badly in general. Their dad is at a loss, because he is having to deal with it, and he doesn't really understand that this is reactive behavior, and while it needs to be addressed, it doesn't REALLY need to be addressed all that strongly. It will go away when life goes back to normal. He is upset, they are upset, I am upset. This is our life right now.
My husband is trying to be the mom, and is drowning in the housework. He cannot for the life of him figure out how to get anything done while holding a child or how to redirect them to go play independently, so he is either holding somebody OR getting something done. Which, as you moms know, is a recipe to get nothing done.
My oldest daughter is attaching herself to me like a limpet. She won't let me out of her sight without thinking that I'm leaving. If someone tries to take her away from me, she screams hysterically. And the amount of worrying over me that she is doing is really sad to see in a two year old. After I put ice on, she touches my knee and tells me it is too cold and I need a blankie for it. If I walk with one crutch instead of two, she comes flying after me with the other. Where is my brace? Put a pillow under it while I'm sitting. Go sit down. She even "fixes" it with cream because she is pretty sure that is what the doctor does whenever I have an appointment. She rubs cream all over my leg while adorably seriously saying "There, that's better. I you doctor, I make you better. I fix." Yes, incredibly cute, but way too heavy for a two year old.
And the baby. Well, she is taking this hard. When I was pregnant with her, I was in and out of the hospital for a few months. My older daughter would be very cool to me when I came home, and attach herself to whoever had been caring for her. The baby is doing the same, which is predictable because she is the same age as my older daughter was. It doesn't hurt my feelings. I understand why she is doing it, and that it is a normal reaction from a one year old when there is this kind of upheaval in her world. In a week or two, life will be back to normal, and we'll be back in our groove. What pisses me off is the way certain other people are reacting to this behavior of hers. There is some barely contained gloating which makes me want to fly off the handle. I can't say any more about that, but oh, I want to. I even typed it out, then deleted it. And then typed it out again, then deleted it again.
Both of my girls have also been behaving pretty badly in general. Their dad is at a loss, because he is having to deal with it, and he doesn't really understand that this is reactive behavior, and while it needs to be addressed, it doesn't REALLY need to be addressed all that strongly. It will go away when life goes back to normal. He is upset, they are upset, I am upset. This is our life right now.
Monday, June 10, 2013
Either be the adult, or quit complaining.
I'm part of several moms groups, and a few of my groups have a few moms who complain about their children's behavior, but don't seem willing or capable of making the changes necessary to help their kid. Case in point. Your toddler isn't sleeping. You will do "anything" except for let her cry. Why? What is so bad about a child having to cry at some point? A toddler isn't capable of full reasoning, and you will not be able to explain to her that sleep is important. Your options are to soothe her constantly, or let her cry. It is fine if you opt to soothe her into oblivion, but then don't complain about it, for Pete's sake!
I read this over and over again, whether it be about sleeping, or behavior. Either grow up and fix it, or accept that you live with a tyrant and you are ok with that. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. My children are not perfect. They test boundaries constantly. I had to haul my two year old out of a store over my shoulder the other day because she was being a serious turd, but the next time we went to a store, she was delightful. She tested, and discovered the answer. Problem solved.
My method is not acceptable to everyone. Some find it too lenient because I neither raise my voice or raise my hand to my children. Some find it too harsh because I demand certain behaviors and don't tolerate any less. It works for me. What you do should work for you too, and if it doesn't, consider changing it. I'm not saying to do what I do, but if you are unhappy with your results, change the method.
I read this over and over again, whether it be about sleeping, or behavior. Either grow up and fix it, or accept that you live with a tyrant and you are ok with that. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. My children are not perfect. They test boundaries constantly. I had to haul my two year old out of a store over my shoulder the other day because she was being a serious turd, but the next time we went to a store, she was delightful. She tested, and discovered the answer. Problem solved.
My method is not acceptable to everyone. Some find it too lenient because I neither raise my voice or raise my hand to my children. Some find it too harsh because I demand certain behaviors and don't tolerate any less. It works for me. What you do should work for you too, and if it doesn't, consider changing it. I'm not saying to do what I do, but if you are unhappy with your results, change the method.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
The House Purge
We moved into our new house about six months ago, and about four months ago I re-injured my knee to the point of being unable to walk safely down the stairs into the basement. As I organized the rest of the house, I packed up things we didn't need and had my husband bring them downstairs to join the many many boxes that had yet to be unpacked from the move. Well, yesterday we had a laundry emergency so I cautiously made my way downstairs to find the basement packed floor to ceiling with boxes. It was bad. It looked like a hoarder's house. It was embarrassing.
While the kids were napping, I began to go through these boxes, ruthlessly making piles to give away or throw away. I decided that the only boxes permitted in the basement would be seasonal clothing and holiday stuff. Any decorations that we had in our old house that would not work here had to go. Personal things that I kept as keepsakes had to go unless they could be displayed. If it wasn't something useful, it wasn't something we could keep.
I am a very emotional, sentimental person, so this wasn't easy to do, but seriously, what am I going to do with the baby's first shoes? Frame them? I'm just not that kind of girl, so into the donation pile they went.
I made a good dent, but definitely didn't finish going through all of the boxes. With knee surgery on my knee looming in the next few weeks, I decided to set myself a goal of unpacking one box during nap time, and one box after they go to bed at night. This seems reasonable and manageable, and something that I wish I had done right when we moved in as I would be long since done by now.
Since my injury, I've been slowly chugging along in the rest of the house, purging purging purging, so there are no unused items hanging about anywhere but the basement, and finishing that is going to feel SO good.
I'd like to invite you to join me in a house purge. You will feel so refreshed by it, I promise. And as an added bonus it will make your daily housework take a lot less time. To get you started, here is a sample 30 day roadmap for your house purge. Enjoy! And don't forget, as you clean out one area, clean it up and organize what is left! For one month, commit to spend an hour on this each day, unless you are really really having fun and want to do more :-)
Day One - Mom's closet and dresser. Remove all seasonal clothes, and place them neatly into a box. Only pack items that fit, are in good condition, and you know you will use. Otherwise, toss it or donate it. Label the box completely, and store it.
Day Two - Dad's closet and dresser. Do the same as you did in Mom's closet.
Day Three - Kid One's room. Do the same as you did in Mom's closet. Place a paper bag on the floor of your child's closet for outgrown items, and in the future, immediately place outgrown items in there for donation or storage for hand me downs.
Day Four - Kid Two's closet and dresser. Do the same as you did in Kid One's room.
Day Five - Linen closets. Remove all stained, ripped, excess, or not frequently used towels, blankets, and sheets, and donate them to a homeless shelter or animal shelter. Keep three sets of sheets for each adult/teenage bed, and five sets of sheets per child (to have extras in case of accidents.)
Day Six - Bathrooms. Remove all expired or unused items from the medicine cabinets and under the sink. Be ruthless when going through your makeup and hair care products. If you don't use it daily, don't keep it! Makeup should be replaced something like every six months, so chances are you need to throw pretty much everything away and start over.
Day Seven - Toys. This would be a good day to get the kids out of the house so they don't see this. My kids are too young to remember if something is gone, but they would sure get upset if they saw something going into the trash. Get rid of anything that is broken, isn't age appropriate, or isn't loved. A lot of donation places won't accept used toys, so you might need to call around. If not, try to give them to a friend or family member. Separate out 1/3 of the remaining toys and put them into storage. Once a week, rotate those toys in, and store another 1/3 of the toys. This will keep your kids playing with what they have.
Day Eight - Kitchen. Oh my, this is one of the areas you weren't looking forward to tackling I bet. But don't worry, you get two days for this one! How many pots and pans do you really need? I can't answer that for you, but probably not nearly as many as you have, and ditto for serving platters and utensils. Get rid of them!!! Dump your junk drawer! Vases? Two, maybe three. Toss ripped and stained dish towels and place mats. Only keep what you use and love. Don't forget to wipe down inside the cabinets and drawers as you go, saving yourself time later!
Day Ten - Living room. This should be a nice easy day after the kitchen fiasco. Sift through your DVDs and donate or sell anything you don't watch. This might be a nice time to take down your curtains or blinds and wash them.
Day Eleven - Garage. Once again, you get a few days for this one. Let's say three. Pay special attention to items you are storing that may be hazardous, and dispose of them properly. Many towns have hazardous disposal days.
Day Fourteen - Garage again. This time though, the focus is on organizing what is left.
Day Fifteen - Attic. Oh dear. Well, let's be generous and give you five days for the attic. Open every single box, and get rid of it if you don't use it. Anything you are keeping, repack neatly and label the box so you can easily find the items in it.
Day Twenty - Dining room. Let's have an easy day after all of the work you put into the attic.
Day Twenty One - Paperwork. Get rid of all papers that are no longer pertinent. Any pay stubs or tax forms older than seven years (double check that first!) get rid of. Enter business cards into a database in your computer, and toss all receipts and miscellaneous pieces of junk. Get a nice filing system for what is left.
Day Twenty Two - Basement. Another big one. Let's have five days again. Once again, open every single box, and get rid of it if you don't use it. Anything you are keeping, repack neatly and label the box so you can easily find the items in it.
Day Twenty Seven - Books. Adult books and children's books. Used books can definitely be donated, so don't throw these away!
Day Twenty Eight - Hall closet or entry way. Remove any unseasonal items, and pack away with the unseasonal items from the closets. Donate anything that doesn't fit, toss anything in poor repair. Allot one jacket hook and one spot for shoes in this area for the items most commonly used, and remove everything else to bedroom closets.
Day Twenty Nine - Random rooms that have not been covered. Office? Play room?
Day Thirty - Miscellaneous spots. Walk around the house and look for the areas you haven't hit yet. Your night stand? Your jewelry box? I'm sure you can still find plenty.
And hopefully that is it! Now, keep your house looking this good, and start all over again tomorrow, but instead of an hour, give it five minutes a day. Five minutes to quickly look through an area, clear it of junk, and give it a cleaning. You'll still need to do your daily cleaning, but you'll never again open your silverware drawer and tell yourself that you'll get to those accumulated crumbs tomorrow.
While the kids were napping, I began to go through these boxes, ruthlessly making piles to give away or throw away. I decided that the only boxes permitted in the basement would be seasonal clothing and holiday stuff. Any decorations that we had in our old house that would not work here had to go. Personal things that I kept as keepsakes had to go unless they could be displayed. If it wasn't something useful, it wasn't something we could keep.
I am a very emotional, sentimental person, so this wasn't easy to do, but seriously, what am I going to do with the baby's first shoes? Frame them? I'm just not that kind of girl, so into the donation pile they went.
I made a good dent, but definitely didn't finish going through all of the boxes. With knee surgery on my knee looming in the next few weeks, I decided to set myself a goal of unpacking one box during nap time, and one box after they go to bed at night. This seems reasonable and manageable, and something that I wish I had done right when we moved in as I would be long since done by now.
Since my injury, I've been slowly chugging along in the rest of the house, purging purging purging, so there are no unused items hanging about anywhere but the basement, and finishing that is going to feel SO good.
I'd like to invite you to join me in a house purge. You will feel so refreshed by it, I promise. And as an added bonus it will make your daily housework take a lot less time. To get you started, here is a sample 30 day roadmap for your house purge. Enjoy! And don't forget, as you clean out one area, clean it up and organize what is left! For one month, commit to spend an hour on this each day, unless you are really really having fun and want to do more :-)
Day One - Mom's closet and dresser. Remove all seasonal clothes, and place them neatly into a box. Only pack items that fit, are in good condition, and you know you will use. Otherwise, toss it or donate it. Label the box completely, and store it.
Day Two - Dad's closet and dresser. Do the same as you did in Mom's closet.
Day Three - Kid One's room. Do the same as you did in Mom's closet. Place a paper bag on the floor of your child's closet for outgrown items, and in the future, immediately place outgrown items in there for donation or storage for hand me downs.
Day Four - Kid Two's closet and dresser. Do the same as you did in Kid One's room.
Day Five - Linen closets. Remove all stained, ripped, excess, or not frequently used towels, blankets, and sheets, and donate them to a homeless shelter or animal shelter. Keep three sets of sheets for each adult/teenage bed, and five sets of sheets per child (to have extras in case of accidents.)
Day Six - Bathrooms. Remove all expired or unused items from the medicine cabinets and under the sink. Be ruthless when going through your makeup and hair care products. If you don't use it daily, don't keep it! Makeup should be replaced something like every six months, so chances are you need to throw pretty much everything away and start over.
Day Seven - Toys. This would be a good day to get the kids out of the house so they don't see this. My kids are too young to remember if something is gone, but they would sure get upset if they saw something going into the trash. Get rid of anything that is broken, isn't age appropriate, or isn't loved. A lot of donation places won't accept used toys, so you might need to call around. If not, try to give them to a friend or family member. Separate out 1/3 of the remaining toys and put them into storage. Once a week, rotate those toys in, and store another 1/3 of the toys. This will keep your kids playing with what they have.
Day Eight - Kitchen. Oh my, this is one of the areas you weren't looking forward to tackling I bet. But don't worry, you get two days for this one! How many pots and pans do you really need? I can't answer that for you, but probably not nearly as many as you have, and ditto for serving platters and utensils. Get rid of them!!! Dump your junk drawer! Vases? Two, maybe three. Toss ripped and stained dish towels and place mats. Only keep what you use and love. Don't forget to wipe down inside the cabinets and drawers as you go, saving yourself time later!
Day Ten - Living room. This should be a nice easy day after the kitchen fiasco. Sift through your DVDs and donate or sell anything you don't watch. This might be a nice time to take down your curtains or blinds and wash them.
Day Eleven - Garage. Once again, you get a few days for this one. Let's say three. Pay special attention to items you are storing that may be hazardous, and dispose of them properly. Many towns have hazardous disposal days.
Day Fourteen - Garage again. This time though, the focus is on organizing what is left.
Day Fifteen - Attic. Oh dear. Well, let's be generous and give you five days for the attic. Open every single box, and get rid of it if you don't use it. Anything you are keeping, repack neatly and label the box so you can easily find the items in it.
Day Twenty - Dining room. Let's have an easy day after all of the work you put into the attic.
Day Twenty One - Paperwork. Get rid of all papers that are no longer pertinent. Any pay stubs or tax forms older than seven years (double check that first!) get rid of. Enter business cards into a database in your computer, and toss all receipts and miscellaneous pieces of junk. Get a nice filing system for what is left.
Day Twenty Two - Basement. Another big one. Let's have five days again. Once again, open every single box, and get rid of it if you don't use it. Anything you are keeping, repack neatly and label the box so you can easily find the items in it.
Day Twenty Seven - Books. Adult books and children's books. Used books can definitely be donated, so don't throw these away!
Day Twenty Eight - Hall closet or entry way. Remove any unseasonal items, and pack away with the unseasonal items from the closets. Donate anything that doesn't fit, toss anything in poor repair. Allot one jacket hook and one spot for shoes in this area for the items most commonly used, and remove everything else to bedroom closets.
Day Twenty Nine - Random rooms that have not been covered. Office? Play room?
Day Thirty - Miscellaneous spots. Walk around the house and look for the areas you haven't hit yet. Your night stand? Your jewelry box? I'm sure you can still find plenty.
And hopefully that is it! Now, keep your house looking this good, and start all over again tomorrow, but instead of an hour, give it five minutes a day. Five minutes to quickly look through an area, clear it of junk, and give it a cleaning. You'll still need to do your daily cleaning, but you'll never again open your silverware drawer and tell yourself that you'll get to those accumulated crumbs tomorrow.
Friday, May 3, 2013
The Drop In
I am going to deviate completely from my typical posts. I am going to gripe a bit about something that bothers me, but that I don't really get to be honest about in real life; the drop in visit. I know, I know, it seems like a really silly thing to be bothered about, but it really really bothers me. Here's why.
1. I have a 10 month old and a 2 year old. Pretty much, someone is ALWAYS sleeping. If I knew we were expecting company, I would at least put the dogs outside so they didn't bark. Also, I could ask the expected guests not to ring the doorbell. If you want to piss me off unreasonably, wake up my kids.
2. Our house is always pretty clean. But you know how it goes; the one time the place looks like a pigsty is when people show up unannounced. I take a lot of pride in keeping a nice home, and I want it to look respectable when visitors see it.
3. The same goes for the girls. I'd rather they not be dirty faced and still in last night's pajamas if you don't mind.
4. I like to entertain, and I want to do it properly. If time permits, I'd love to have something baking in the oven and the coffee freshly perked. When I am scrambling to offer guests something that isn't goldfish or bunny shaped, I feel completely out of sorts.
5. If you know me, you know that I am kind of a controlled person. Surprises aren't necessarily good in my world.
6. We live a solid 30 minutes away from anyone who'd be coming to visit us. We are in the middle of nowhere. There is NO reason for any one to be in the neighborhood. To my mind, this means that we should get a phone call 30 minutes in advance saying "Hey, we are coming over!" This is short notice, but sufficient. If we lived in a neighborhood, I would be expecting visitors more frequently, so I wouldn't be so bothered by it.
Ok, I apologize for the purposeless rant. I needed to get it out so that I am not actually rude to anyone in person.
1. I have a 10 month old and a 2 year old. Pretty much, someone is ALWAYS sleeping. If I knew we were expecting company, I would at least put the dogs outside so they didn't bark. Also, I could ask the expected guests not to ring the doorbell. If you want to piss me off unreasonably, wake up my kids.
2. Our house is always pretty clean. But you know how it goes; the one time the place looks like a pigsty is when people show up unannounced. I take a lot of pride in keeping a nice home, and I want it to look respectable when visitors see it.
3. The same goes for the girls. I'd rather they not be dirty faced and still in last night's pajamas if you don't mind.
4. I like to entertain, and I want to do it properly. If time permits, I'd love to have something baking in the oven and the coffee freshly perked. When I am scrambling to offer guests something that isn't goldfish or bunny shaped, I feel completely out of sorts.
5. If you know me, you know that I am kind of a controlled person. Surprises aren't necessarily good in my world.
6. We live a solid 30 minutes away from anyone who'd be coming to visit us. We are in the middle of nowhere. There is NO reason for any one to be in the neighborhood. To my mind, this means that we should get a phone call 30 minutes in advance saying "Hey, we are coming over!" This is short notice, but sufficient. If we lived in a neighborhood, I would be expecting visitors more frequently, so I wouldn't be so bothered by it.
Ok, I apologize for the purposeless rant. I needed to get it out so that I am not actually rude to anyone in person.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
One of THOSE days.
If I have given you the impression that I have my act together, please let me disillusion you. I do not. Not always. Not even close. I try really hard, and I have quite nice children, but like any (every?) other mom, we have plenty of those days. Let me tell you about mine.
Last night, I went to bed without finishing my house work, so I woke up to a house that was already a few feet behind the starting line. The cleaning fairy has yet again disappointed me. I am convinced that the kids see a messy house as being permission to go wild, and they did so with aplomb.
The baby was in a crappy mood because she had failed to have a crap for a few days, not counting the weensy little stone she dropped on the toddler's floor last night. The toddler was tired because we had a weekend of birthday festivities which she has yet to recover from. They were both peaches. Rotten ones.
In an attempt to salvage the day, my sister and I brought them to the mall to use the Build A Bear gift card that a kind soul had given the toddler. When Build A Bear and a pretzel fail to do bring more than a hint of a smile, you know you should just give up and pull the blankets over your head. But I soldiered on, and put dinner in front of them. No, they didn't eat. They also didn't eat lunch. Or breakfast. I think they have a secret stash of cookies somewhere.
After dinner, the baby did another adorable little nugget in her diaper. It didn't restore her mood at all, unfortunately. I put her in the tub and promptly heard the toddler say "She coloring with she butt." She was indeed. A little turtle head of poo was drawing lines on the tub floor as she played. I figured at that point she may as well stay in and hopefully the warm water would relax her bum into finally releasing the hounds. After all, what is the difference between a little poo and a lot of poo? I let the toddler go while I waited for the baby to deliver the prize. It was not epic, but at least it was out. Mood improved somewhat, until I took her out of the tub to clean it. I'm not sure why she was crying when I was the one scooping finless brown trout out of the tub.
Retrieved the toddler from my bedroom where she had rearranged all of Daddy's special magazines. No, not that kind, thank goodness. Architectural Digest type things. Successfully bathed two kids.
Left the toddler naked while I fed the baby. Who promptly had a huge blowout that was not adorable. Ok, fine. Better out than in. While cleaning up the baby and changing her outfit, I heard "Uh oh, poop!" Yes, thank you Captain Obvious. I know she pooped. Except, she wasn't talking about the baby. She was talking about herself. She had laid a log in the corner, and tracked it across the rug, along with the bits of fruit that made up said log. Yeah, over share maybe, but I saw it, so you shall too.
It was at that point that I knew the worst was over. What else could happen? Oh, well, the toddler had gone on a self punishing crime spree and had stolen her own pacifier out of her crib. I could not find it. I looked in all the usual spots. Gone. I was way too tired to deal with a screaming kid all night. Soon it will happen, but not tonight. I debated waking up the baby to go to the store for a new pacifier, but that was not truly an option. I debated calling my mommy, but that was also not truly an option. Ok, tonight was the night. No binky. Sigh. I put her in bed, and left, wondering how much wine I'd have to drink to make her screams sound pleasant. I did not have enough wine. On the bright side, while cleaning up the hazmat zone kitchen, I did find her pacifier in the bag from Build A Bear, and was able to get it to her before the emotional trauma was too steep to overcome without a life time of therapy (for me.)
Last night, I went to bed without finishing my house work, so I woke up to a house that was already a few feet behind the starting line. The cleaning fairy has yet again disappointed me. I am convinced that the kids see a messy house as being permission to go wild, and they did so with aplomb.
The baby was in a crappy mood because she had failed to have a crap for a few days, not counting the weensy little stone she dropped on the toddler's floor last night. The toddler was tired because we had a weekend of birthday festivities which she has yet to recover from. They were both peaches. Rotten ones.
In an attempt to salvage the day, my sister and I brought them to the mall to use the Build A Bear gift card that a kind soul had given the toddler. When Build A Bear and a pretzel fail to do bring more than a hint of a smile, you know you should just give up and pull the blankets over your head. But I soldiered on, and put dinner in front of them. No, they didn't eat. They also didn't eat lunch. Or breakfast. I think they have a secret stash of cookies somewhere.
After dinner, the baby did another adorable little nugget in her diaper. It didn't restore her mood at all, unfortunately. I put her in the tub and promptly heard the toddler say "She coloring with she butt." She was indeed. A little turtle head of poo was drawing lines on the tub floor as she played. I figured at that point she may as well stay in and hopefully the warm water would relax her bum into finally releasing the hounds. After all, what is the difference between a little poo and a lot of poo? I let the toddler go while I waited for the baby to deliver the prize. It was not epic, but at least it was out. Mood improved somewhat, until I took her out of the tub to clean it. I'm not sure why she was crying when I was the one scooping finless brown trout out of the tub.
Retrieved the toddler from my bedroom where she had rearranged all of Daddy's special magazines. No, not that kind, thank goodness. Architectural Digest type things. Successfully bathed two kids.
Left the toddler naked while I fed the baby. Who promptly had a huge blowout that was not adorable. Ok, fine. Better out than in. While cleaning up the baby and changing her outfit, I heard "Uh oh, poop!" Yes, thank you Captain Obvious. I know she pooped. Except, she wasn't talking about the baby. She was talking about herself. She had laid a log in the corner, and tracked it across the rug, along with the bits of fruit that made up said log. Yeah, over share maybe, but I saw it, so you shall too.
It was at that point that I knew the worst was over. What else could happen? Oh, well, the toddler had gone on a self punishing crime spree and had stolen her own pacifier out of her crib. I could not find it. I looked in all the usual spots. Gone. I was way too tired to deal with a screaming kid all night. Soon it will happen, but not tonight. I debated waking up the baby to go to the store for a new pacifier, but that was not truly an option. I debated calling my mommy, but that was also not truly an option. Ok, tonight was the night. No binky. Sigh. I put her in bed, and left, wondering how much wine I'd have to drink to make her screams sound pleasant. I did not have enough wine. On the bright side, while cleaning up the hazmat zone kitchen, I did find her pacifier in the bag from Build A Bear, and was able to get it to her before the emotional trauma was too steep to overcome without a life time of therapy (for me.)
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