Mommy Proof #37: LEARN CPR and FIRST AID!
I can't wait to say farewell to 2013. In many ways, it was filled with funny and fleeting moments that passed too quickly. We felt very scared and helpless when our nine year old needed emergency surgery. We nursed little wounds and big heartbreaks. We triumphed when our children excelled in school and beat the odds.
I cried many nights when I realized that we had a series of "lasts" that I will never experience again. I achieved my goals of nursing to age 2. I mourned the fact that there would never be another crib in our home or swing in our living room. I packed up the last of their newborn clothes and gave them away. We will never have a baby that tiny in our bassinet again. Then, I began to look towards the future again.
Three weeks ago, I sat beside my youngest child and peeled an orange for him. I had just checked on dinner, but he just couldn't wait until it was done. (It is a perfect snack really. They are described on the commercial as easy to peel and eat. We love them!) My oldest son was on the couch watching a movie. My oldest girl was in the den appreciating some quiet time. My youngest girl was napping on the couch. I looked down at my youngest to see if he was ready for another slice of orange. My heart stopped.
My precious boy was silently choking. Not a sound was emitted as he gagged and heaved, tears and drool running from his eyes and mouth. I looked at him and froze. I choked. I couldn't move. I said a quick prayer that he would be able to gag it up, that his father would walk in from work, that I could go back in time and never peel that orange, but we all know that last thing couldn't happen. His face began to turn colors and I shot into action. I used a finger since I could see a portion of orange to sweep his mouth and airway clear. I ended up pushing it farther back.
My breathing stopped and tears came to my eyes. I called for my oldest daughter to get the phone and call 911. I met eyes with my oldest son whose attention had been pulled away from the movie he had been watching. His mouth was moving rhythmically as his eyes and hands showed his quiet panic. When I could decipher his whispers, "Please don't let him die," my heart broke in a million pieces. He let out a strangled, "MOM..." And I sprung back into action. I saw what he saw. An empty bed in his room. A lifeless body. A stupid orange slice. A tiny coffin. A funeral. My baby. His brother....gone. All of the information flooded back into my brain from my CPR and First Aid class. I performed the motions that they described and showed to me. I detached myself and picked the baby up, mimicking the actions like he wasn't my choking child, but that silly doll. I caught eyes with his brother and said, "It's okay" as I did it. I finally took a breath when I heard an audible gag, then,wails as my baby caught his breath and the color returned to his face.
As I focused back into reality, I heard my daughter hysterically asking about whether she should dial 911. I wiped my baby's face from saliva and tears. I comforted him and his siblings paying close attention to his older brother who was holding onto my waist. Then, we laughed as my youngest daughter woke up and asked what happened. Then we all froze when the baby asked for another orange slice. :-/
So as you enter 2014 with your little ones, whether they are newborns or pre-teens, sign up for a CPR and First Aid class in your area. Pay the fee and give yourself some peace of mind. I took that first class 9 years ago and would never have imagined that I would need it in an emergency, but I did and you just might. So let's make that the first thing on our "To Do" list. Share this post and spread the word. I'll be going back to cuddle my babies. ;-)
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Friday, November 15, 2013
OUR VERY FIRST DADDY PROOF!
Our children's school hosts a Family week. A small chunk of time is set aside in the morning, so that children can begin their day with a smile. This week, I missed it. I felt horrible. The next day was Doughnuts for Dad. Our second grader begged my husband to come to her Doughnuts for Dad.
My husband was finally home on a weekday that would allow him to go for Doughnuts for Dads. Although it would take some rearranging of his schedule and possibly a penalty from his place of employment for the short notice, my husband called into work and told them he would be a little late. The kids were overjoyed. They woke up and didn't expect to see their dad there. He usually leaves before they wake up.
The kids left for school as happy as can be. My foursome were off to enjoy the morning, but, later that morning, I received a phone call that I didn't expect. Something bothered my husband as he left the school that day. It weighed heavily on his mind. I asked him how the morning went and he told me fine. He didn't realize that this event was also for our older child and he forgot to sign her in, but she spoke up in her true older daughter fashion. Our second oldest child was happy and had a great time. Then, my husband told me what was really bothering him.
He dropped our son off in the classroom the way he would normally do in the morning. As he walked our second grader to her classroom, she urged him to go back and get her brother. "Let him come to my class, Dad!" My husband responded, "No, he has to go to his class and we go to yours." As he passed back by his classroom, he threw his hand up to wave. Our son briefly looked excited. Then he realized that he had to stay in the classroom and his face saddened. That bothered my husband and he called to talk to me about it. As he rambled on about 5K's Doughnuts for Dad, I felt my heart drop and tears came to my eyes....
See, there was not going to be a 5K's Doughnuts for Dad. That isn't how it works. Although some activities are separated according to grades, that was not one of them. Our son missed breakfast with his dad. He missed out on his first Doughnuts for Dad. What made it worse is that he realized it and my husband realized it too late. My heart was breaking for the both of them. I kept on imagining my son sitting in that classroom dejected and hurt. I wasn't there to hold him and comfort him. I'm also not positive I could have made it better at that point.
We spoke about ways to make it up to him and then got off the phone. Around 15 minutes later, I received another phone call. It was my husband and he wasn't in the company truck. He was in his own and he was on his way to get our son out of school. He had only been at work for two hours, but he just kept on picturing that look on our son's face. He couldn't concentrate. It made him physically ill with the thought of it. He explained to me that this could make or break his relationship with our son and he couldn't get to him soon enough.
He walked into the school and explained what happened. He went and got our baby who still had that same look on his face. He apologized and explained the mistake he made. He took him out to lunch and to spend the day with him. Everywhere they went people would inquire about why our son was out of school. Everywhere they went, my husband would explain the mistake he made...but he did much more than that. In the words of our son, "Every time I blinked, I thought I'd burst into tears. But then my dad came back!" So, that is the lesson learned. We live at a time when we have to spend time away from our children, so we should strive to make every moment with them count. If we make a mistake in one of those moments, make it right. Make it better. This concludes our first Daddy Proof. Good job, Daddy!
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| When we talked to our six year old about how he felt, he used his hands. "He heart 'broked' me, Mom." |
 | |||
| "...But then my dad came back for me!" |
(I'd like to also thank our son's teachers. They tried to soothe his broken heart.)
Friday, October 25, 2013
#35: When life hands you pumpkins, make pumpkin cupcakes.
Are there any kindergartners in America that have not visited a pumpkin patch this October? I know mine have for the past 3 years. The first two times, we had rotten pumpkins to throw away. It pained me to do that, but I did not know what else to do with them. Until I discovered what may be the best fall desert that every existed. Here it is! ENJOY!!!!!!!!!!!!
PUMPKIN CUPCAKES
Ingredients:
Browned Butter Icing
Are there any kindergartners in America that have not visited a pumpkin patch this October? I know mine have for the past 3 years. The first two times, we had rotten pumpkins to throw away. It pained me to do that, but I did not know what else to do with them. Until I discovered what may be the best fall desert that every existed. Here it is! ENJOY!!!!!!!!!!!!
PUMPKIN CUPCAKES
Ingredients:
- 2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour, sift before measuring
- 1 tablespoon baking powder
- 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
- 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
- 1/2 cup butter, softened
- 1 1/3 cups sugar
- 2 eggs, beaten until frothy
- 1 cup mashed cooked or canned pumpkin
- 3/4 cup milk
- 3/4 cup chopped walnuts or pecans (optional)
Preparation:
Sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, ginger, cinnamon, and nutmeg into a bowl. Cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy; beat in eggs. Blend in mashed pumpkin. Stir in the sifted dry ingredients alternately with the milk, blending until batter is smooth after each addition; stir in chopped walnuts or pecans. Spoon batter into well-greased and floured or paper-lined muffin pan cups. Fill about 2/3 full. Bake at 375° for 20-25 minutes, or until a wooden toothpick or cake tester inserted in center comes out clean.Browned Butter Icing
Ingredients
- 1/2 cup margarine or butter
- 4 cups sifted powdered sugar
- 2 tablespoons milk
- 1 teaspoon vanilla
Directions
In a small saucepan heat margarine or butter
over low heat until melted; continue heating until margarine or butter
turns a delicate brown. Remove from heat; pour into small mixing bowl.
Add powdered sugar, milk, and vanilla; beat with an electric mixer on
low speed until combined. Beat on medium to high speed, adding
additional milk, if necessary, to make frosting of a spreading
consistency. Makes enough to frost tops and sides of two 8- or 9-inch
cake layers (12 servings).
To cook my pumpkin, I washed my pumpkin first. Then, cut the pumpkin in half and roasted it for an hour on 400 degrees. It also works with sweet potatoes!
Monday, September 16, 2013
Mommy Proof #34: What works for your family, works for YOUR family.
Guess what? Last week, we were all waiting for our children in the car line. I overheard one of the funniest statements I ever heard. "I. Would. Never...." Those three words are designed for the foolish. I do not believe you can ever say "never" in reference to what you will do in life. Life just isn't that simple. This conversation was about ADHD medications, other diagnosis, and children.
Guess what else? I used to be that parent. Everything was over diagnosed. Children were overly medicated. If people disciplined better, their children would behave better. Then, I had children. It was fine at first. The kids were well behaved. They acted liked kids, sometimes needed to be redirected, but, overall, parenting was pretty uneventful. Until, I sent them to school.
I'm not going to mention which one of my children, but let's just say that kid is a chatterbox. Never met a stranger. Always has a response. Stays asking a question, then telling you the answer. It was fine in kindergarten and 1st grade. The second grade, we started seeing yellows every now and then. In third grade, I saw an inconsistency with grades, but still doing well enough to pass. That was the first time a teacher asked about a possibility of attention deficit disorder. I ignored the teacher.
That wasn't my child's problem. My kid wasn't trying hard enough. I thought if we focused better. Maybe we should study more. Then, fourth grade started. I began to see this outgoing and happy kid have feelings of worthlessness. I would chastise and rack my brain as to how a test could be taken and the WHOLE second page was skipped resulting in a 15%. Stuff I knew we went over would be missed on an assignment. One day, I decided to see, just see, what the symptoms of ADHD and ADD were. If that list didn't describe my child.....every, single, thing. It broke my heart. I failed my child based on my own views of reality.
Well, we changed diets. We played around with schedules. We attempted different ways of studying and focusing. Nothing worked. So we decided to start medication. The grades came up and with that self-confidence followed suit. This is what I learned:
1. ADHD/ADD may be able to be treated in different ways, but sometimes medication is needed.
2. If medication is needed, it doesn't have to change your child into a "zombie." If your child does have those issues, then something needs to be addressed. We started with the smallest dosage and never experienced those issues. If we had, we would have changed medications.
3. Seek professional help if you see signs and symptoms. Do not allow you children to become disheartened.
I don't know if the rise in diagnosis are environmental or what, but they are on the rise. Do not fail your child.
Guess what? Last week, we were all waiting for our children in the car line. I overheard one of the funniest statements I ever heard. "I. Would. Never...." Those three words are designed for the foolish. I do not believe you can ever say "never" in reference to what you will do in life. Life just isn't that simple. This conversation was about ADHD medications, other diagnosis, and children.
Guess what else? I used to be that parent. Everything was over diagnosed. Children were overly medicated. If people disciplined better, their children would behave better. Then, I had children. It was fine at first. The kids were well behaved. They acted liked kids, sometimes needed to be redirected, but, overall, parenting was pretty uneventful. Until, I sent them to school.
I'm not going to mention which one of my children, but let's just say that kid is a chatterbox. Never met a stranger. Always has a response. Stays asking a question, then telling you the answer. It was fine in kindergarten and 1st grade. The second grade, we started seeing yellows every now and then. In third grade, I saw an inconsistency with grades, but still doing well enough to pass. That was the first time a teacher asked about a possibility of attention deficit disorder. I ignored the teacher.
That wasn't my child's problem. My kid wasn't trying hard enough. I thought if we focused better. Maybe we should study more. Then, fourth grade started. I began to see this outgoing and happy kid have feelings of worthlessness. I would chastise and rack my brain as to how a test could be taken and the WHOLE second page was skipped resulting in a 15%. Stuff I knew we went over would be missed on an assignment. One day, I decided to see, just see, what the symptoms of ADHD and ADD were. If that list didn't describe my child.....every, single, thing. It broke my heart. I failed my child based on my own views of reality.
Well, we changed diets. We played around with schedules. We attempted different ways of studying and focusing. Nothing worked. So we decided to start medication. The grades came up and with that self-confidence followed suit. This is what I learned:
1. ADHD/ADD may be able to be treated in different ways, but sometimes medication is needed.
2. If medication is needed, it doesn't have to change your child into a "zombie." If your child does have those issues, then something needs to be addressed. We started with the smallest dosage and never experienced those issues. If we had, we would have changed medications.
3. Seek professional help if you see signs and symptoms. Do not allow you children to become disheartened.
I don't know if the rise in diagnosis are environmental or what, but they are on the rise. Do not fail your child.
Friday, September 6, 2013
Mommy Proof #33: Enjoy the moment.
I took three and a half months off from blogging. I shut down partially. I still posted pictures to tell my story on Instagram and Facebook, including countless others that went to close family and friends. Pictures tell a story. I am sure my kids are tired of the camera or phone always being ready for a snapshot, but they serve a purpose. My loves will see their lives through my eyes. Always a moment ready to be captured. A smile waiting to be memorialized. As these days fade from moment to moment and time blends into time, I want them to remember. They were loved. They were happy. They are the source of my joy.
I took three and a half months off from blogging. I shut down partially. I still posted pictures to tell my story on Instagram and Facebook, including countless others that went to close family and friends. Pictures tell a story. I am sure my kids are tired of the camera or phone always being ready for a snapshot, but they serve a purpose. My loves will see their lives through my eyes. Always a moment ready to be captured. A smile waiting to be memorialized. As these days fade from moment to moment and time blends into time, I want them to remember. They were loved. They were happy. They are the source of my joy.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Mommy Proof #32: To potty train, you must be all "in."
After reading Six Rs to Potty Training, one of the mommies has an "independent diva" that she is having a rough time potty training. I'm hoping these pointers will help! Some people do not agree, but I feel potty training can be a play of "control" with some toddlers. Ever heard of a child urinating on the floor in defiance? My first child was almost 3 before she was potty trained and it was my husband that took the lead. Here are the things that I learned with her.
You have to be all "in": inclusion, intuition, intrigue, incentives, enthusiasm.
1. Inclusion means the state of being included. Potty training is an odd concept. "You want me to do what? In where?" It sounds absolutely ridiculous. From birth, they have been doing what is natural to them. To go when they had to and now we want them to learn something totally new. Also, everyone has to be included. It can be done in a long weekend. Meaning for some children, that ground work has been laid. Once it is laid, everyone has to fall in line. Speak to them, "Little one, starting tomorrow we need to use the potty all of the time!"
2. Intuition is necessary because they are learning something that she hasn't done before. I take my newly potty trained child every 15-20 minutes or so while giving them plenty to drink. Watermelon is a great snack if she likes it. ;-) I don't ask if they need to go. I tell the child it is time to use the potty now. Coax them with phrases so they know what you want them to do. This is where the potty training doll can be very helpful. Drink goes in here, Peepee comes out there! A phrase that helped with all of mine is, "Peepee come out!"
My second child held her urine until she was literally about to burst. The kid didn't want it to run down her legs and she didn't want to clean the floor. She couldn't even stand up straight. I sat her down on the potty and told the "peepee" to come out. I asked her where her tummy was hurting, which was at the top of her bladder and pressed ever so slightly. The flood gates opened and she learned the muscle that is needed to control it. We sometimes have to "show" them how to go.
3. Interest will make even the most headstrong kid come running to see what you are doing. I have used some interesting methods to get a child excited about using the potty. If you are comfortable, drink something, feign your "OH, MY! I have to go" action, and go running to the bathroom telling her to follow. Yes, I have done this. I also cheered for myself when I went. Sang the song as I washed my hands. Maybe, clapped for myself when I finished. :-/ BUT IT WORKED! The doll can serve the same purpose, without the Academy Award performance. I was that good, really nailed that role. Let her feed the baby and take her to the potty. It will click.
4. Incentives!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Snacks, stickers, stamps on the hand, dancing, praising, and singing. But my greatest incentive of all was starting with all white panties. There are two reasons: THEY ARE BORING! THEY ARE EASY TO BLEACH! Once she has been dry for a week straight, you bring out the big kid undies. The colorful ones, maybe with characters, flowers, etc. They worked every time.
5: My last tip is ENTHUSIASM!!!!!!!!!!!!! The same way you would teach letters, numbers, and colors be enthusiastic. Would you want to learn something boring? Enough said!
After reading Six Rs to Potty Training, one of the mommies has an "independent diva" that she is having a rough time potty training. I'm hoping these pointers will help! Some people do not agree, but I feel potty training can be a play of "control" with some toddlers. Ever heard of a child urinating on the floor in defiance? My first child was almost 3 before she was potty trained and it was my husband that took the lead. Here are the things that I learned with her.
You have to be all "in": inclusion, intuition, intrigue, incentives, enthusiasm.
1. Inclusion means the state of being included. Potty training is an odd concept. "You want me to do what? In where?" It sounds absolutely ridiculous. From birth, they have been doing what is natural to them. To go when they had to and now we want them to learn something totally new. Also, everyone has to be included. It can be done in a long weekend. Meaning for some children, that ground work has been laid. Once it is laid, everyone has to fall in line. Speak to them, "Little one, starting tomorrow we need to use the potty all of the time!"
2. Intuition is necessary because they are learning something that she hasn't done before. I take my newly potty trained child every 15-20 minutes or so while giving them plenty to drink. Watermelon is a great snack if she likes it. ;-) I don't ask if they need to go. I tell the child it is time to use the potty now. Coax them with phrases so they know what you want them to do. This is where the potty training doll can be very helpful. Drink goes in here, Peepee comes out there! A phrase that helped with all of mine is, "Peepee come out!"
My second child held her urine until she was literally about to burst. The kid didn't want it to run down her legs and she didn't want to clean the floor. She couldn't even stand up straight. I sat her down on the potty and told the "peepee" to come out. I asked her where her tummy was hurting, which was at the top of her bladder and pressed ever so slightly. The flood gates opened and she learned the muscle that is needed to control it. We sometimes have to "show" them how to go.
3. Interest will make even the most headstrong kid come running to see what you are doing. I have used some interesting methods to get a child excited about using the potty. If you are comfortable, drink something, feign your "OH, MY! I have to go" action, and go running to the bathroom telling her to follow. Yes, I have done this. I also cheered for myself when I went. Sang the song as I washed my hands. Maybe, clapped for myself when I finished. :-/ BUT IT WORKED! The doll can serve the same purpose, without the Academy Award performance. I was that good, really nailed that role. Let her feed the baby and take her to the potty. It will click.
4. Incentives!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Snacks, stickers, stamps on the hand, dancing, praising, and singing. But my greatest incentive of all was starting with all white panties. There are two reasons: THEY ARE BORING! THEY ARE EASY TO BLEACH! Once she has been dry for a week straight, you bring out the big kid undies. The colorful ones, maybe with characters, flowers, etc. They worked every time.
5: My last tip is ENTHUSIASM!!!!!!!!!!!!! The same way you would teach letters, numbers, and colors be enthusiastic. Would you want to learn something boring? Enough said!
 |
| Unofficial tip #6: Don't put a camera in the face of a toddler who is on the potty. You may or may not end up with urine on your foot. :'-( |
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Mommy Proof #31: Take a picture. It lasts longer.
Fewer moments in life are more exciting than bringing home a new baby. Oh, the smell of their newness will intoxicate a person making them unfit to make long term decisions. How many of us has left a new mother's house with nostalgia surrounding us in a cloud of memories? The thing about memories are that they are rarely as simple as we'd like to remember. So here are five reminders when welcoming a new baby home.
1. They say newborns eat, sleep,and poop. That is a lie they tell you to fool you into having more children. Be prepared for your newborn to sleep beautifully in the hospital. The minute you bring them home they will engage you into a battle of wills. They will battle you until one of you passes out. They will win.
2. If you bring home a boy, be prepared for them to mark their territory. Everything is their territory. Your bed, their changing table, your couch....your face.
3. Newborns are cute and cuddly when they want to be. When they get hungry and/or wet, they turn into raging beasts. Remember to always keep them dry and clean. Remember that this is impossible. Because as soon as you change a diaper, they eat. Then as soon as you feed them, they soil or wet themselves. You are failing at life.
4. Sleep when the baby sleeps! Keep in mind that the baby only sleeps at times that you need to be up and busy. Don't expect to make dinner if you are sleeping. If you have an older child......Well, sleep with your eyes open.
5. Enjoy it! A year from the day you bring your newborn home, you will be remembering how small they were and how fast they grew. Let their be dirty dishes in the sink. Keep up with laundry as you can. Photograph that first smile. Newborns are only new for a short period of time. Hold your newborn the way your friends with older children do. Drink in their essence. You can do it!
A special note to a special mommy: I hope you have an uneventful, quick, painless labor. :-/ Okay, well the painless part won't happen, but you will be just fine. I know you will continue to be as awesome a mother as your mother was to you. Now get to pushing!
Fewer moments in life are more exciting than bringing home a new baby. Oh, the smell of their newness will intoxicate a person making them unfit to make long term decisions. How many of us has left a new mother's house with nostalgia surrounding us in a cloud of memories? The thing about memories are that they are rarely as simple as we'd like to remember. So here are five reminders when welcoming a new baby home.
 |
| In your memory, having a newborn feels like this... |
 |
| In reality....Need I say more? |
2. If you bring home a boy, be prepared for them to mark their territory. Everything is their territory. Your bed, their changing table, your couch....your face.
3. Newborns are cute and cuddly when they want to be. When they get hungry and/or wet, they turn into raging beasts. Remember to always keep them dry and clean. Remember that this is impossible. Because as soon as you change a diaper, they eat. Then as soon as you feed them, they soil or wet themselves. You are failing at life.
4. Sleep when the baby sleeps! Keep in mind that the baby only sleeps at times that you need to be up and busy. Don't expect to make dinner if you are sleeping. If you have an older child......Well, sleep with your eyes open.
5. Enjoy it! A year from the day you bring your newborn home, you will be remembering how small they were and how fast they grew. Let their be dirty dishes in the sink. Keep up with laundry as you can. Photograph that first smile. Newborns are only new for a short period of time. Hold your newborn the way your friends with older children do. Drink in their essence. You can do it!
A special note to a special mommy: I hope you have an uneventful, quick, painless labor. :-/ Okay, well the painless part won't happen, but you will be just fine. I know you will continue to be as awesome a mother as your mother was to you. Now get to pushing!
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Mommy Proof #30: It's okay to cry.
My oldest child had emergency surgery last week. Emergency is a word that is scary enough. Surgery is enough to make your heart stall. They have to put her under anesthesia. They have to cut her little body. She will forever be altered. How much pain will she be in? How will she cope? How will I cope? Who will watch my other children? Who will keep them during the surgery? What do I tell them? Then, your mind starts to run the gamut of "What ifs?" What if the surgeon isn't the best? What if there is a complication? What if she doesn't wake up? What if...
There are no correct answers. In the hospital room before she was wheeled out of surgery, I paced back and forth with my mind racing. We went from a low grade fever and tummy ache to being admitted into the hospital. My baby was about to be cut open for the surgeon to remove her appendix, yet there she lay laughing and joking with us. So, I had to be brave. I couldn't show that I was scared. I couldn't cry. The problem is......I love to cry. I absolutely love to cry. It is great. It is a way to purge all of my emotions. It may be my favorite past time, but it isn't always productive. If I had shown her my tears, she would have known that I was scared. Then, she would have been scared.
Instead, I smiled and made lame jokes. Horribly, lame jokes. I didn't expect her to laugh and she didn't. It did break the ice though. It did allow her to say she didn't expect this to happen. It did help her to put her emotions into words. It made me realize that this was moving much too fast for her, too. It is probably what helped us to cope. From stomach ache to surgery, we didn't have time to be afraid. We had to face this head on and it made the hard decisions easy to make.
Life has a funny way of repeating itself. Nine and a half years before, it was just us in a hospital room facing the unknown. We didn't know what to expect, but we knew the next step had to be made. As her bed was rolled out of her room, I followed while silently praying. I prayed for her well being. I prayed she would be fine. I prayed everything would go well. I prayed that the surgeon would take care of her as I would. I prayed that this would all be over. I prayed that this would go away. I laughed as she joked with the anesthesiologist. I chuckled at her attempt to make jokes even though you could see her fear. My heart swelled with joy when I saw her face as her father walked in to embrace her small body. Then, she was wheeled away from us through those doors where I had no control. We held hands and walked down the corridor. Finally, I took a deep breath and sobs replaced it. Short, strong sobs that did not help, but allowed myself to feel what my mind thought.
An hour later, the surgeon walked down the hall with a smile on his face. Her infected appendix was gone. She was in recovery. She was going to be just fine and I cried again. It is okay to cry. I cried when I saw her in recovery. I cried when she was determined to get out of bed and walk. I shed a couple tears when I saw the determination etched on her face as she would attempt to sit up by herself. As I said earlier, life has a funny way of repeating itself. Once again, it was just us in a hospital room. Amen.
My oldest child had emergency surgery last week. Emergency is a word that is scary enough. Surgery is enough to make your heart stall. They have to put her under anesthesia. They have to cut her little body. She will forever be altered. How much pain will she be in? How will she cope? How will I cope? Who will watch my other children? Who will keep them during the surgery? What do I tell them? Then, your mind starts to run the gamut of "What ifs?" What if the surgeon isn't the best? What if there is a complication? What if she doesn't wake up? What if...
There are no correct answers. In the hospital room before she was wheeled out of surgery, I paced back and forth with my mind racing. We went from a low grade fever and tummy ache to being admitted into the hospital. My baby was about to be cut open for the surgeon to remove her appendix, yet there she lay laughing and joking with us. So, I had to be brave. I couldn't show that I was scared. I couldn't cry. The problem is......I love to cry. I absolutely love to cry. It is great. It is a way to purge all of my emotions. It may be my favorite past time, but it isn't always productive. If I had shown her my tears, she would have known that I was scared. Then, she would have been scared.
 |
| Bob the Bear accompanied my daughter into the operating room. They removed his appendix, too. |
Instead, I smiled and made lame jokes. Horribly, lame jokes. I didn't expect her to laugh and she didn't. It did break the ice though. It did allow her to say she didn't expect this to happen. It did help her to put her emotions into words. It made me realize that this was moving much too fast for her, too. It is probably what helped us to cope. From stomach ache to surgery, we didn't have time to be afraid. We had to face this head on and it made the hard decisions easy to make.
Life has a funny way of repeating itself. Nine and a half years before, it was just us in a hospital room facing the unknown. We didn't know what to expect, but we knew the next step had to be made. As her bed was rolled out of her room, I followed while silently praying. I prayed for her well being. I prayed she would be fine. I prayed everything would go well. I prayed that the surgeon would take care of her as I would. I prayed that this would all be over. I prayed that this would go away. I laughed as she joked with the anesthesiologist. I chuckled at her attempt to make jokes even though you could see her fear. My heart swelled with joy when I saw her face as her father walked in to embrace her small body. Then, she was wheeled away from us through those doors where I had no control. We held hands and walked down the corridor. Finally, I took a deep breath and sobs replaced it. Short, strong sobs that did not help, but allowed myself to feel what my mind thought.
An hour later, the surgeon walked down the hall with a smile on his face. Her infected appendix was gone. She was in recovery. She was going to be just fine and I cried again. It is okay to cry. I cried when I saw her in recovery. I cried when she was determined to get out of bed and walk. I shed a couple tears when I saw the determination etched on her face as she would attempt to sit up by herself. As I said earlier, life has a funny way of repeating itself. Once again, it was just us in a hospital room. Amen.
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Hello, little Miss Invisible
Mommy Proof #29: I may have failed to mention my middle child....
I take it middle child syndrome is real. We have a second born child. I don't believe I have ever mentioned her. I'm positive I have never blogged about her. I have mentioned having four. I have written about my youngest child and his demands for the vast amount of my attention. I have laughed about my mini-me who makes me wonder how I ever decided that I could be some one's mother. I have triumphed with my third child who has overcome a few learning disablities. In the midst of it all, I may have accidentally failed to mention that I do, indeed, have another child that makes that number into a fabulous four. Her name may have fallen by the wayside as I focused my efforts on the child that needed it the most at any given moment.
She is a seven year old girl with the biggest smile and brightest eyes that you can imagine. A tiny one with a Bostonian accent that we all wonder where it came from as we live in a tiny country town. A daddy's girl at night and a mommy's girl during the day, that is our child. She looks like her father and has a personality like her mother. The kid that hardly ever gets sick, but when she does so sick she is! A child who cries every morning about going to school and smiles every afternoon as I pick her up. The easy going kid that never gets in any trouble. She is a perfect student. Quiet, well-mannered, appropriately behaved...
The type of kid that will call you from the school nurse's phone feigning an illness. Then when you get to the school, you can look in her eyes and tell that is not the real reason she is upset. You gather her into your arms and she melts into position. A hug is the cure for her discomfort. A cuddle is the needed therapy for a headache. A little bit of love is needed to hold her for the remaining four hours of school. So that is what I do, time and time again. Sometimes staying at the school to sit for library time. Watching her as she first watches me to see if I will remain there, then I am watching her as she forgets that I am still there.
Then, she got sick and it reminded me of something. What if her sickness
is not just a virus? What if it is something serious? How many minutes
have I missed a memory to be made? So I decided to make more of an effort. I vowed to pay more attention than less when she is content to sit quietly. Instead of focusing on the ones that need to be entertained, what if I just go and sit quietly with her? What if I let her know that she is equally important? How many times have I neglected to do that? How content was she? I have come to cherish those times. They make her who she is and who she will become. I would hate for her to think that I focused so much on her siblings that I missed seeing her grow up...
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| One of the rare moments a family member captured. Just me, #2, and soon to #4.... |
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Mommy Proof #28: "If you can't say something nice, don't say nothing at all."-Thumper, "Bambi" (1942)
Thoughtless Things People Say to Stay at Home Moms:
1. "Don't you get bored?" During the course of a day, I do at least two loads of laundry, prepare breakfast and lunch, prepare numerous snacks, teach and play with a toddler, clean the house, pick up after a toddler, do the dishes, get the kids ready for school, run errands, change at least 8 diapers, pick up three kids, entertain them, referee them, help with homework, prepare and cook dinner, give four baths, etc. Nope. I don't have time for boredom.
2. "I would love to sit around doing nothing all day." Yeah.....................Okay. Look at the response to number 1.
3. "What do you do all day?" Yeah........................Okay. Look at the response to number 1.
4. "Don't you want a real job?" Motherhood isn't a job. It's your life.
5. "Didn't you go to college?" I did. It wasn't challenging enough. O_o
6. "That would be my worst nightmare." Then, you must have some really lame dreams.
7. "I brought you the help wanted ads." Thanks. I've been needing a nurse, chef, maid, wet nurse, chauffeur, nanny, psychiatrist, assistant, repair woman, teacher...clone. :-/
8. "So...you are JUST a mom." Do I need to be more.
9. "You've never wanted to do something with your life." Nope. Never. This is it. Poor me, right?
10. "Yeah, you have too many kids to work." Yes, because raising four kids isn't work. I love being on vacation every day. During last week's vacation, I cleaned up after four kids that were sick with a stomach virus, while nursing a sick toddler, while sick myself.
Thoughtless Things People Say to Stay at Home Moms:
1. "Don't you get bored?" During the course of a day, I do at least two loads of laundry, prepare breakfast and lunch, prepare numerous snacks, teach and play with a toddler, clean the house, pick up after a toddler, do the dishes, get the kids ready for school, run errands, change at least 8 diapers, pick up three kids, entertain them, referee them, help with homework, prepare and cook dinner, give four baths, etc. Nope. I don't have time for boredom.
2. "I would love to sit around doing nothing all day." Yeah.....................Okay. Look at the response to number 1.
3. "What do you do all day?" Yeah........................Okay. Look at the response to number 1.
4. "Don't you want a real job?" Motherhood isn't a job. It's your life.
5. "Didn't you go to college?" I did. It wasn't challenging enough. O_o
6. "That would be my worst nightmare." Then, you must have some really lame dreams.
7. "I brought you the help wanted ads." Thanks. I've been needing a nurse, chef, maid, wet nurse, chauffeur, nanny, psychiatrist, assistant, repair woman, teacher...clone. :-/
8. "So...you are JUST a mom." Do I need to be more.
9. "You've never wanted to do something with your life." Nope. Never. This is it. Poor me, right?
10. "Yeah, you have too many kids to work." Yes, because raising four kids isn't work. I love being on vacation every day. During last week's vacation, I cleaned up after four kids that were sick with a stomach virus, while nursing a sick toddler, while sick myself.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Mommy Proof #27: Depression will suck all the life out of you, until you get help.
Ten Reasons to hate Postpartum Depression:
1. It makes you feel so tired that you won't even want to lift your head off your pillow.
2. It makes you want to cry.
3. You sometimes feel like ending it all.
4. You wonder if your baby hates you, if everyone hates you, if you hate yourself...
5. You may feel totally disconnected from the life you just brought forth from your loins.
6. It makes you think making dinner is the most insurmountable task that could ever exist.
7. You begin to smell if you don't take a shower.
8. There is hardly any joy in your life.
9. Everyone gets on your nerves.
10. You get on your own nerves.
Ten Reasons You Can Love Postpartum Depression:
1. When you do get to sleep, it is the best sleep in the world. You can literally sleep the day away, then sleep some more at night, and some more.
2. Wanting to cry all of the time stinks. BUT with tears, I can get my husband to clean the kitchen, help with homework, do the laundry, and tend to the baby...while I sleep.
3. When I feel like ending it all, I do it in the healthiest way possible. I stop stressing myself out. I stop trying to keep up with the dishes and laundry. I do the bare minimum to get me through that day with minimal guilt: pick up the kids, help with homework, prepare dinner, and give baths. Then, we sleep!
4. It helped me to appreciate my baby, kids, family, and friends once the worst of it was over. The kids had never been funnier and cuter. The baby made me want to laugh and cry with every milestone wondering what I missed when I was in my funk, then no longer caring. Because the end result was he did love me, they did love me, and I was loved, no matter what I thought.
5. You admit to yourself that being a mom is harder than it looks. Sometimes it does take a while to bond with the screaming, temperamental, bawling little stranger whose birth caused you to suffer the worst pain imaginable (AKA RING OF FIRE The Legend of the Doomsday Birther )
6. I had the best feeling when I would prepare a meal that would make my children happy and full. It was also nutritious. I did good!
7. Take the time to take care of yourself. When I finally starting caring about how I looked, I cared about how I felt.
8. Joy is the last thing you feel when you are depressed. The first time you really laugh after you get help will be a memorable occasion.
9. It is hard to go through day to day activities that deal with other people when you don't even want to get out of bed. There are rules that you must live by in civilized society. When I willingly went to the store the first time, I knew I could see the light at the end of the depression tunnel.
10. I still remember the day I looked in the mirror and smiled at what I saw. It was the day I remembered who I am and who I was.
There is light at the end of the tunnel. If you are feeling symptoms of postpartum depression, address it with your doctor. It doesn't make you weak. It will make you stronger.
Mayo Clinic's list of PPD symptoms
http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/postpartum-depression/DS00546/DSECTION=symptoms
Ten Reasons to hate Postpartum Depression:
1. It makes you feel so tired that you won't even want to lift your head off your pillow.
2. It makes you want to cry.
3. You sometimes feel like ending it all.
4. You wonder if your baby hates you, if everyone hates you, if you hate yourself...
5. You may feel totally disconnected from the life you just brought forth from your loins.
6. It makes you think making dinner is the most insurmountable task that could ever exist.
7. You begin to smell if you don't take a shower.
8. There is hardly any joy in your life.
9. Everyone gets on your nerves.
10. You get on your own nerves.
Ten Reasons You Can Love Postpartum Depression:
1. When you do get to sleep, it is the best sleep in the world. You can literally sleep the day away, then sleep some more at night, and some more.
2. Wanting to cry all of the time stinks. BUT with tears, I can get my husband to clean the kitchen, help with homework, do the laundry, and tend to the baby...while I sleep.
3. When I feel like ending it all, I do it in the healthiest way possible. I stop stressing myself out. I stop trying to keep up with the dishes and laundry. I do the bare minimum to get me through that day with minimal guilt: pick up the kids, help with homework, prepare dinner, and give baths. Then, we sleep!
4. It helped me to appreciate my baby, kids, family, and friends once the worst of it was over. The kids had never been funnier and cuter. The baby made me want to laugh and cry with every milestone wondering what I missed when I was in my funk, then no longer caring. Because the end result was he did love me, they did love me, and I was loved, no matter what I thought.
5. You admit to yourself that being a mom is harder than it looks. Sometimes it does take a while to bond with the screaming, temperamental, bawling little stranger whose birth caused you to suffer the worst pain imaginable (AKA RING OF FIRE The Legend of the Doomsday Birther )
6. I had the best feeling when I would prepare a meal that would make my children happy and full. It was also nutritious. I did good!
7. Take the time to take care of yourself. When I finally starting caring about how I looked, I cared about how I felt.
8. Joy is the last thing you feel when you are depressed. The first time you really laugh after you get help will be a memorable occasion.
9. It is hard to go through day to day activities that deal with other people when you don't even want to get out of bed. There are rules that you must live by in civilized society. When I willingly went to the store the first time, I knew I could see the light at the end of the depression tunnel.
10. I still remember the day I looked in the mirror and smiled at what I saw. It was the day I remembered who I am and who I was.
There is light at the end of the tunnel. If you are feeling symptoms of postpartum depression, address it with your doctor. It doesn't make you weak. It will make you stronger.
Mayo Clinic's list of PPD symptoms
http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/postpartum-depression/DS00546/DSECTION=symptoms
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Look What I Can Do, Didn't Do, Can't Decide to Do
Mommy Proof #26: The cloud really aren't following you...
Yes, it is time for a mommy confession. When I was younger and my magical imagination was still intact, I actually believed that the world really did revolve around me. So much so, that the clouds followed me around. Every time I looked out the window, that is what they were doing. Morphing into shapes that were just for my pleasure and entertainment. A lot of times, my mother didn't see those shapes until I pointed them out to her. If I stopped long enough to really look, the clouds would realize what I was doing and slowly start inching away from me. The clouds must have thought I would be a STAR!
Well, look where that has led me. I am a star. I can't have a conversation without the paparrazi...AKA kids....hanging on my every word. My toddler is always pulling my shirt off and hanging on my every movement. I have my very own stalkers. Every time I turn on a particular social network, I am bombarded by people that essentially want me to sponsor their every move. They hold us signs trying to get me to agree/like/share their every move. Because if I share it, others will.
"Like if you think I am pretty."
"My mom said if we get a million likes we can get a puppy."
"My dad said if we get a million shares we can get a kitten."
"Like if you love your mother, if you don't share you hate her."
"My husband said if we get a million likes we are going to Disney World."
"Like if you love bacon."
The first time I saw those likes, I was all for it. How could I not be happy that somebody's grandmother turned 103? How could it not be inspiring that the four year old had his last chemo treatment? Of course, I am cheering for them. How could I not? But somewhere along the lines, someone decided that turning 103 was too big of a feat for their family and decided to bring the 'likes' down to Earth. I began to wonder, just what is social media doing to our lives? Have we and are we raising a generation of people that can't make a decision without getting validation for it? Then, I saw the commercial where the little boy flushes the toilet and a parade arrives outside his door.
That is when I saw what has happened to our lives. Everything has become praiseworthy. The other day, I proudly exclaimed for the benefit of my tyrannical toddler, "I love how you are all playing nicely together!" One of the older kids said, "Look how I am building ALL BY MYSELF!" I was taken back as to what to say. Surely, she doesn't want me to repeat the earlier commendation. I decided to use my sarcastic wit as a reminder that she has been doing that since she was her little brother's age of 1. That made everyone collapse into giggles as they imagined themselves at his age. I began to wonder if I am doing to my children the very thing I hate. As I scrolled through my pictures, I was happy and afraid to see that I may have created a milestone of sorts: first smile, first prayer, first tooth filled grin, first snow, but what I didn't do was try to make it into a cornucopia of Mad TV "Stuart." (Please tell me you remember that comedic genius! "Look what I can do!" http://www.amazon.com/Best-MadTV-Seasons-Craig-Anton/dp/B000A88EUK ) I didn't post:
"Share if you like snow!"
"Like if you love to pray"
"Share if you like teeth, if you don't share your teeth will fall out."
I planned a trip to take the kids to Disney World and I took them without a million likes. The first time my kids got a pet I didn't petition my friends to share the picture. I didn't make a you tube video of my children pop locking to a Korean pop star. I have made it through my life so far without getting a million likes....or even a hundred. So this is my promise to you. You will never open this blog and see a picture of my toddler's first poop. You will never see if he smeared it all over his hands. You will never see the first time he asks if you like sea food, then opens his mouth for you to see his chewed up food. I may make a status about the last time he nurses, but I promise to NEVER, EVER post a picture of me crying outside with my empty milk-less breasts flapping in the wind. Now, share this blog for a million likes. O_o
Yes, it is time for a mommy confession. When I was younger and my magical imagination was still intact, I actually believed that the world really did revolve around me. So much so, that the clouds followed me around. Every time I looked out the window, that is what they were doing. Morphing into shapes that were just for my pleasure and entertainment. A lot of times, my mother didn't see those shapes until I pointed them out to her. If I stopped long enough to really look, the clouds would realize what I was doing and slowly start inching away from me. The clouds must have thought I would be a STAR!
Well, look where that has led me. I am a star. I can't have a conversation without the paparrazi...AKA kids....hanging on my every word. My toddler is always pulling my shirt off and hanging on my every movement. I have my very own stalkers. Every time I turn on a particular social network, I am bombarded by people that essentially want me to sponsor their every move. They hold us signs trying to get me to agree/like/share their every move. Because if I share it, others will.
"Like if you think I am pretty."
"My mom said if we get a million likes we can get a puppy."
"My dad said if we get a million shares we can get a kitten."
"Like if you love your mother, if you don't share you hate her."
"My husband said if we get a million likes we are going to Disney World."
"Like if you love bacon."
The first time I saw those likes, I was all for it. How could I not be happy that somebody's grandmother turned 103? How could it not be inspiring that the four year old had his last chemo treatment? Of course, I am cheering for them. How could I not? But somewhere along the lines, someone decided that turning 103 was too big of a feat for their family and decided to bring the 'likes' down to Earth. I began to wonder, just what is social media doing to our lives? Have we and are we raising a generation of people that can't make a decision without getting validation for it? Then, I saw the commercial where the little boy flushes the toilet and a parade arrives outside his door.
That is when I saw what has happened to our lives. Everything has become praiseworthy. The other day, I proudly exclaimed for the benefit of my tyrannical toddler, "I love how you are all playing nicely together!" One of the older kids said, "Look how I am building ALL BY MYSELF!" I was taken back as to what to say. Surely, she doesn't want me to repeat the earlier commendation. I decided to use my sarcastic wit as a reminder that she has been doing that since she was her little brother's age of 1. That made everyone collapse into giggles as they imagined themselves at his age. I began to wonder if I am doing to my children the very thing I hate. As I scrolled through my pictures, I was happy and afraid to see that I may have created a milestone of sorts: first smile, first prayer, first tooth filled grin, first snow, but what I didn't do was try to make it into a cornucopia of Mad TV "Stuart." (Please tell me you remember that comedic genius! "Look what I can do!" http://www.amazon.com/Best-MadTV-Seasons-Craig-Anton/dp/B000A88EUK ) I didn't post:
"Share if you like snow!"
"Like if you love to pray"
"Share if you like teeth, if you don't share your teeth will fall out."
I planned a trip to take the kids to Disney World and I took them without a million likes. The first time my kids got a pet I didn't petition my friends to share the picture. I didn't make a you tube video of my children pop locking to a Korean pop star. I have made it through my life so far without getting a million likes....or even a hundred. So this is my promise to you. You will never open this blog and see a picture of my toddler's first poop. You will never see if he smeared it all over his hands. You will never see the first time he asks if you like sea food, then opens his mouth for you to see his chewed up food. I may make a status about the last time he nurses, but I promise to NEVER, EVER post a picture of me crying outside with my empty milk-less breasts flapping in the wind. Now, share this blog for a million likes. O_o
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Things NON-Crunchy moms think and sometimes may say....
Mommy Proof #25: It doesn't matter what you do or how you do it, someone will have something to think.....or say......
1. You are what type of parent?
2. You spent how much for ONE diaper?
3. That piece of fabric you wrapped your baby up in cost how much?
4. I think vaccines are awesome. I love the feeling of knowing that small pox was almost eradicated.
5. I still think strollers are great. I baby wear, but there is nothing like free-wheeling a toddler in a jogging stroller while running up a hill. Can't do that with a baby sling.
6. When it is raining outside, I am not standing beside my van trying to tie a sleeping baby to my torso. As my 8 year old said, "Why don't you just put a blanket over the carrier and put him in the back of the cart?" Bravo, little genius, Bravo.
7. Once my toddler can unhook my nursing bra and say "mammary glands," the thrill is gone.
8. I will never drink raw milk. Pasteurizing is an amazing process.
9. Raw foods diet what?
10. I have had a natural childbirth without medication. My vagina suffers from PTSD.
11. Cloth diapering is a little too involved....
12. I don't want a "family bed." I want their bed and my bed. They are welcome into my bed as needed, but we aren't roommates.
13. Attachment parenting ended when they cut the umbilical cord. We are no longer attached.
14. Family cloth who?
15. People actually attachment parent/water birth/natural childbirth/baby wear/cloth diaper/breast feed toddlers?????
16. Is he still nursing? At 18 months? Is there still milk in those?
17. You mean you cloth diaper. You mean you have poop in your washing machine?????
18. You ate your placenta? Where they do that at?????
19. What is elimination communication?
20. So you share a bed with your toddler, 9 month old, and a 6 year old? When do you and your husband....DO IT?
For the record: I am NOT a crunchy mom. I do not cloth diaper (although I did think about it for twenty minutes), family cloth, eat my placenta, or drink unpasteurized milk. I DO co-sleep, still breast feed my 18 month old (although we are trying to wean....by we, I mean, I), use a stroller, baby wear, and gave birth without medication. And, yes, my vagina does suffer from PTSD. I don't care if you are or aren't a "crunchy" mom. We all do the best we can with the information we receive.
1. You are what type of parent?
2. You spent how much for ONE diaper?
3. That piece of fabric you wrapped your baby up in cost how much?
4. I think vaccines are awesome. I love the feeling of knowing that small pox was almost eradicated.
5. I still think strollers are great. I baby wear, but there is nothing like free-wheeling a toddler in a jogging stroller while running up a hill. Can't do that with a baby sling.
6. When it is raining outside, I am not standing beside my van trying to tie a sleeping baby to my torso. As my 8 year old said, "Why don't you just put a blanket over the carrier and put him in the back of the cart?" Bravo, little genius, Bravo.
7. Once my toddler can unhook my nursing bra and say "mammary glands," the thrill is gone.
8. I will never drink raw milk. Pasteurizing is an amazing process.
9. Raw foods diet what?
10. I have had a natural childbirth without medication. My vagina suffers from PTSD.
11. Cloth diapering is a little too involved....
12. I don't want a "family bed." I want their bed and my bed. They are welcome into my bed as needed, but we aren't roommates.
13. Attachment parenting ended when they cut the umbilical cord. We are no longer attached.
14. Family cloth who?
15. People actually attachment parent/water birth/natural childbirth/baby wear/cloth diaper/breast feed toddlers?????
16. Is he still nursing? At 18 months? Is there still milk in those?
17. You mean you cloth diaper. You mean you have poop in your washing machine?????
18. You ate your placenta? Where they do that at?????
19. What is elimination communication?
20. So you share a bed with your toddler, 9 month old, and a 6 year old? When do you and your husband....DO IT?
For the record: I am NOT a crunchy mom. I do not cloth diaper (although I did think about it for twenty minutes), family cloth, eat my placenta, or drink unpasteurized milk. I DO co-sleep, still breast feed my 18 month old (although we are trying to wean....by we, I mean, I), use a stroller, baby wear, and gave birth without medication. And, yes, my vagina does suffer from PTSD. I don't care if you are or aren't a "crunchy" mom. We all do the best we can with the information we receive.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Stuff your Childless Friends say...
Mommy Proof #24: It does no good to get offended at the stuff your childless friends say. It is more satisfying to watch them eat their words when they have their first child.....
1. "When I have my kids....." Aaaahhhh, those are five of my most favorite words. The truth is that very few parents enter parenthood and actually stick to all of their pre-parenting rules.
2. "When I have my kids, they will never sleep in the bed with me." Good for you. Some babies are so very easy going that they do go down for the night and are easy to get back to sleep with a quick little rock or even a "It's time to sleep." I never had one of those babies. I was one of those parents who said I wouldn't share a bed with my fourth. I had made that "mistake" with my first three children. The mistake I really made was not doing what worked for my family. After three months of caring for a screaming infant, I fell asleep from pure exhaustion. I woke up in a panic when I realized that I actually had slept for more than 15 minutes straight. That had not happened since before he was born. I looked down and saw him curled into my body...where he fit....where he belonged....where he actually SLEPT!
3. "What's the point of buying a crib?" It looks cute. *shrugs* He will eventually sleep in it.
4. "That's why I will never breastfeed." (As they look at my toddler nursing.) Nope, breastfeeding isn't "fun." It does look "easier" to carry a bottle filled with the correct amount of water and formula or a sippy cup. Yes, he is quite big to want to nurse. But don't let what my baby and I do turn you off from nursing, which is how most mammals feed their young. I'm sure it isn't glamorous or appealing, but it does work for us. Whether you try to nurse or not, don't base it on a fleeting moment of watching me try to give my toddler a cup. Right then, he didn't want it. He wanted me. Nope, he didn't need it for nourishment. He needed it for comfort. Gross, right?
5. "He's spoiled." Yes, he is. Every baby, toddler, and child should have that feeling of knowing that their parents will respond to them. What looks like "spoiling" to you is actually my toddler expressing his desires and knowing that I am attentive enough to listen.
6. "Just tell him to stop and he will...." Okay, then you do it. See how that works out for you. But right now he is tired or hungry or bored, so I need to get to sleep or give him a snack or sing him a song. I know that will work out better for him.
7. "He's crying, because you pick him up every time he cries". But he was crying BEFORE I picked him up. Your logic is flawed at best.
8. "Why would you put your child on a leash?" Because some toddlers hate for their hand to be held. It may be too: 1. sweaty for his hand. 2. tight for his hand's circulation. 3. uncomfortable as you hold it. 4. makes his knuckles rub together. 5. annoying! It doesn't really matter to me what is behind the reason that makes my two year old rip his hand from mine and run off. The only thing that matters to me is keeping him safe, close to me, and happy.
9. "I will never buy a leash." .......until your impulsive toddler rips his hand away from yours filled with another baby and shopping bags, then proceeds to run into a crowd full of potential kidnappers. After that you may think again.
10. "I would never want kids in my early 20s/mid 20s/early 30s..." Then, don't have them. DUH!!!!!!!!
Which advice given from your childless friends made you laugh the hardest?
1. "When I have my kids....." Aaaahhhh, those are five of my most favorite words. The truth is that very few parents enter parenthood and actually stick to all of their pre-parenting rules.
2. "When I have my kids, they will never sleep in the bed with me." Good for you. Some babies are so very easy going that they do go down for the night and are easy to get back to sleep with a quick little rock or even a "It's time to sleep." I never had one of those babies. I was one of those parents who said I wouldn't share a bed with my fourth. I had made that "mistake" with my first three children. The mistake I really made was not doing what worked for my family. After three months of caring for a screaming infant, I fell asleep from pure exhaustion. I woke up in a panic when I realized that I actually had slept for more than 15 minutes straight. That had not happened since before he was born. I looked down and saw him curled into my body...where he fit....where he belonged....where he actually SLEPT!
3. "What's the point of buying a crib?" It looks cute. *shrugs* He will eventually sleep in it.
4. "That's why I will never breastfeed." (As they look at my toddler nursing.) Nope, breastfeeding isn't "fun." It does look "easier" to carry a bottle filled with the correct amount of water and formula or a sippy cup. Yes, he is quite big to want to nurse. But don't let what my baby and I do turn you off from nursing, which is how most mammals feed their young. I'm sure it isn't glamorous or appealing, but it does work for us. Whether you try to nurse or not, don't base it on a fleeting moment of watching me try to give my toddler a cup. Right then, he didn't want it. He wanted me. Nope, he didn't need it for nourishment. He needed it for comfort. Gross, right?
5. "He's spoiled." Yes, he is. Every baby, toddler, and child should have that feeling of knowing that their parents will respond to them. What looks like "spoiling" to you is actually my toddler expressing his desires and knowing that I am attentive enough to listen.
6. "Just tell him to stop and he will...." Okay, then you do it. See how that works out for you. But right now he is tired or hungry or bored, so I need to get to sleep or give him a snack or sing him a song. I know that will work out better for him.
7. "He's crying, because you pick him up every time he cries". But he was crying BEFORE I picked him up. Your logic is flawed at best.
8. "Why would you put your child on a leash?" Because some toddlers hate for their hand to be held. It may be too: 1. sweaty for his hand. 2. tight for his hand's circulation. 3. uncomfortable as you hold it. 4. makes his knuckles rub together. 5. annoying! It doesn't really matter to me what is behind the reason that makes my two year old rip his hand from mine and run off. The only thing that matters to me is keeping him safe, close to me, and happy.
9. "I will never buy a leash." .......until your impulsive toddler rips his hand away from yours filled with another baby and shopping bags, then proceeds to run into a crowd full of potential kidnappers. After that you may think again.
10. "I would never want kids in my early 20s/mid 20s/early 30s..." Then, don't have them. DUH!!!!!!!!
Which advice given from your childless friends made you laugh the hardest?
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
I "WUB" him too...
Mommy Proof #23: Hearing "I love you" the first time from your baby is AMAZING.
This morning, my youngest child came up to me and touched my arm. As I smiled down at him, he mumbled some gibberish that vaguely resembled English. I nodded and grinned back at him, but the response I received was unexpected. Usually, I can just nod off the gibberish by repeating what I thought he said and he is happily content. This was NOT one of those times. When I nodded and dismissed him, I was met with a confused look as he now gripped my arm.
"Mah-mawwww! I WUB Oooh!" ("Ma-ma! I love you!")
It has been a long time since I have heard those first words. It always warms your heart when you realize what has been said, but it was different this time. Every time it is the first time when he does something new....it is also the last. This is the last time I will see the first steps of my child. The last first word. The last time I will hear a giggle for the first time. The last time I will recognize the pitter patter of little feet during the night. The last time I will see that first tooth, bicuspid, molar. I have become oddly nostalgic. I haven't given his first pair of shoes away. I still held on to some of his newborn clothes. Every time I tame his mane, I gather up those wisps of hair and put it in a separate baggie....as if I will somehow be given the opportunity to clone these moments and relive them.
No more first pictures. No more first smiles. His toothless grin is gone and in its replacement were my tears. I switched him to a toddler bed a couple of weeks ago. He is growing up. Too fast. Last Saturday, he discovered snow for the first time. He wasn't impressed. He had his own feelings about the new situation. It was cold. It was wet. He wanted me to hold him and I did. I just want to hold on a little longer. My baby is gone, but my toddler loves me. I know because this morning he told me so for the last first time....:-/
This morning, my youngest child came up to me and touched my arm. As I smiled down at him, he mumbled some gibberish that vaguely resembled English. I nodded and grinned back at him, but the response I received was unexpected. Usually, I can just nod off the gibberish by repeating what I thought he said and he is happily content. This was NOT one of those times. When I nodded and dismissed him, I was met with a confused look as he now gripped my arm.
"Mah-mawwww! I WUB Oooh!" ("Ma-ma! I love you!")
It has been a long time since I have heard those first words. It always warms your heart when you realize what has been said, but it was different this time. Every time it is the first time when he does something new....it is also the last. This is the last time I will see the first steps of my child. The last first word. The last time I will hear a giggle for the first time. The last time I will recognize the pitter patter of little feet during the night. The last time I will see that first tooth, bicuspid, molar. I have become oddly nostalgic. I haven't given his first pair of shoes away. I still held on to some of his newborn clothes. Every time I tame his mane, I gather up those wisps of hair and put it in a separate baggie....as if I will somehow be given the opportunity to clone these moments and relive them.
No more first pictures. No more first smiles. His toothless grin is gone and in its replacement were my tears. I switched him to a toddler bed a couple of weeks ago. He is growing up. Too fast. Last Saturday, he discovered snow for the first time. He wasn't impressed. He had his own feelings about the new situation. It was cold. It was wet. He wanted me to hold him and I did. I just want to hold on a little longer. My baby is gone, but my toddler loves me. I know because this morning he told me so for the last first time....:-/
 |
| Yeah....Not impressed. |
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Mommy Proof #22: When there is something that needs to be said, say it.
Dear son of mine,
I see you struggling. I recognize that you are trying. I know that you wish you could be finished your homework. I can tell you are frustrated. No, my dear, you are not stupid. You are not dumb. Those are not words that should be in your vocabulary. I know these things. Let me tell you why...
Stupid people accept when someone tells them that there is a limitation and they don't try to surpass that limitation. They believe that when someone tells them they are dumb, that they are. But you don't do that, my dear, you don't believe that. Do you? Dumb people do not think for themselves. You do. Dumb people follow the crowd. Some people will hear the term "developmentally delayed" and they may use that as an excuse to call you dumb. They may try to act as if you can't learn. Don't be one of those people. You laugh it off. You show them what you can do, because you are just that awesome. The letters they diagnosed you with are just that...letters. Those letters, APD, do not have to define you. APD does not know you as I do. Those letters cover a huge array of things, not all of which describe some of the troubles you have. You are much bigger than those letters. You are my SON.
APD has never made me laugh. It made me weep. It temporarily cut down my excitement in the future. It made me question what joy was left for your life. But not my SON, unlike APD, you dried my tears. You awakened the next morning full of excitement for school, for the day, for life. You taught me how to enjoy life. APD made me wonder if you would ever do what other kids your age can do. But not you, not my SON, you made me see that you could do what they could do...and more. I showed you how to tie your shoe, just once, and you did it. You repeated what I said and did it step by step. You showed me that you could do it and you would learn to do it. APD kept me up at night pondering what the next step should be. But not my SON, you woke up the next morning and asked me to help you write your letters, then you copied them. Even though it was hard, you tried, you succeeded, and you hugged me tight when you did. You are awesome. You are amazing. You make me laugh. You teach me every day. You taught me how to hope. APD has nothing on you, my SON.
Love,
MOM
Dear teachers, doctors, therapists....to whom it may concern,
I am sure you came across my son's records, IEP, previous doctor's notes, vague diagnosis, and other information that is needed to help my son. I know that you, too, have marveled at how his mind works and how is brain makes connections. There is just something I need you to remember. He is, first and foremost, a little boy. My little boy. There are very few things you can tell me about him that I do not already know. Please, don't pacify me and tell me he can be helped. I know that. For years, I begged someone to listen. I pleaded for anyone to see what I saw. Instead, I want you to tell me how to help him.
I am amazed that he writes his letters and words upside down and backwards. Sometimes, I wonder just what the world looks like to him. When he climbs onto the playground equipment and hangs upside down, is the world suddenly right side up? Is that the moment when everything is clear to him? Is that the second that he understands? Is that why he runs, flips, and jumps to every destination? Is he just trying to keep up with what it feels like the world is throwing at him with each step he takes? There are questions that I wonder if I will ever have answered.
I am tired of acronyms. These letters mean nothing to me: APD, IUGR, IEP, ETC I don't see those letters when I look at him. I just see my SON. Remember when you speak to me, please, that I am not only his advocate. I am his mother. Clinically, you can throw all of the diagnoses, treatments, and information that you can find, but all I really want to hear is a success story, a guarantee, and a cure. I want my baby to be okay. To be just fine. To catch up. To thrive. To learn. To succeed. Remember when you are speaking of APD and figuring out just how his little brain works, that the child in the charts is still my son. Not a case number, but my baby. Take the time out to get to know him. Forget the information, the professional assessments, you will learn more by talking to him and getting to know who he is and the way he reasons. Take note of how he holds his pencil. Mark it down that when he is really trying, he chews on his tongue. Look into his eyes when he gets something wrong. You will see that he has already realized it wasn't quite right, but that he did try. If you look close enough, you may even see the hesitation in the point of his pencil. You may see him instinctively try to guide his pencil in the direction that he should be copying his letters, but, more than that, I want you to see that he is trying. Because he is smart. Because he won't give up. Because the only way you can help him, is if you believe in him too....
Sincerely,
his MOM
(APD is Auditory Processing Disorder. Ever heard of it? Neither have I.)
Dear son of mine,
I see you struggling. I recognize that you are trying. I know that you wish you could be finished your homework. I can tell you are frustrated. No, my dear, you are not stupid. You are not dumb. Those are not words that should be in your vocabulary. I know these things. Let me tell you why...
Stupid people accept when someone tells them that there is a limitation and they don't try to surpass that limitation. They believe that when someone tells them they are dumb, that they are. But you don't do that, my dear, you don't believe that. Do you? Dumb people do not think for themselves. You do. Dumb people follow the crowd. Some people will hear the term "developmentally delayed" and they may use that as an excuse to call you dumb. They may try to act as if you can't learn. Don't be one of those people. You laugh it off. You show them what you can do, because you are just that awesome. The letters they diagnosed you with are just that...letters. Those letters, APD, do not have to define you. APD does not know you as I do. Those letters cover a huge array of things, not all of which describe some of the troubles you have. You are much bigger than those letters. You are my SON.
APD has never made me laugh. It made me weep. It temporarily cut down my excitement in the future. It made me question what joy was left for your life. But not my SON, unlike APD, you dried my tears. You awakened the next morning full of excitement for school, for the day, for life. You taught me how to enjoy life. APD made me wonder if you would ever do what other kids your age can do. But not you, not my SON, you made me see that you could do what they could do...and more. I showed you how to tie your shoe, just once, and you did it. You repeated what I said and did it step by step. You showed me that you could do it and you would learn to do it. APD kept me up at night pondering what the next step should be. But not my SON, you woke up the next morning and asked me to help you write your letters, then you copied them. Even though it was hard, you tried, you succeeded, and you hugged me tight when you did. You are awesome. You are amazing. You make me laugh. You teach me every day. You taught me how to hope. APD has nothing on you, my SON.
Love,
MOM
Dear teachers, doctors, therapists....to whom it may concern,
I am sure you came across my son's records, IEP, previous doctor's notes, vague diagnosis, and other information that is needed to help my son. I know that you, too, have marveled at how his mind works and how is brain makes connections. There is just something I need you to remember. He is, first and foremost, a little boy. My little boy. There are very few things you can tell me about him that I do not already know. Please, don't pacify me and tell me he can be helped. I know that. For years, I begged someone to listen. I pleaded for anyone to see what I saw. Instead, I want you to tell me how to help him.
I am amazed that he writes his letters and words upside down and backwards. Sometimes, I wonder just what the world looks like to him. When he climbs onto the playground equipment and hangs upside down, is the world suddenly right side up? Is that the moment when everything is clear to him? Is that the second that he understands? Is that why he runs, flips, and jumps to every destination? Is he just trying to keep up with what it feels like the world is throwing at him with each step he takes? There are questions that I wonder if I will ever have answered.
I am tired of acronyms. These letters mean nothing to me: APD, IUGR, IEP, ETC I don't see those letters when I look at him. I just see my SON. Remember when you speak to me, please, that I am not only his advocate. I am his mother. Clinically, you can throw all of the diagnoses, treatments, and information that you can find, but all I really want to hear is a success story, a guarantee, and a cure. I want my baby to be okay. To be just fine. To catch up. To thrive. To learn. To succeed. Remember when you are speaking of APD and figuring out just how his little brain works, that the child in the charts is still my son. Not a case number, but my baby. Take the time out to get to know him. Forget the information, the professional assessments, you will learn more by talking to him and getting to know who he is and the way he reasons. Take note of how he holds his pencil. Mark it down that when he is really trying, he chews on his tongue. Look into his eyes when he gets something wrong. You will see that he has already realized it wasn't quite right, but that he did try. If you look close enough, you may even see the hesitation in the point of his pencil. You may see him instinctively try to guide his pencil in the direction that he should be copying his letters, but, more than that, I want you to see that he is trying. Because he is smart. Because he won't give up. Because the only way you can help him, is if you believe in him too....
Sincerely,
his MOM
(APD is Auditory Processing Disorder. Ever heard of it? Neither have I.)
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Mommy Proof #21: There are certain times, that I am certain, that I should NOT be a mother...
There are some women who claim that they LOVE being a mother. All. The. Time. They love when their child wakes them up in the middle of the night. They love when that same child then proceeds to cover them in that night's regurgitated dinner. They love cleaning the child, themselves, carpet, sheets, comforter, mattress, tub, toilet, and the rest of the bathroom in the dead of the night. They love when they repeat the cleaning three minutes later....8 minutes after that....12 minutes after that....5 minutes after that....and repeat, clean, and rinse for the rest of the night and following day. The problem is that I am not that mother. At. All.
I get frustrated. I get upset. I get annoyed. I get irritated. I get mad. I get stressed. It is usually the worst during a certain time of the month. No, it is definitely worst during a certain time of the month. PMS is the most evil natural occurrence in a woman's life. It is not helping that hormonally my uterus is asking why there isn't a fertilized egg in there. It proceeds to rid itself of that emptiness with an emotional fury that destroys everything in it's path. I went two glorious years with no visits from that evil wench. But when she came back unannounced, she came back with a vengeance. During that week, I am not fit for mothering and nurturing. I muster up the strength to laugh at their jokes and listen to their stories. I muster up the courage to wake up in the morning and begin the day with an upbeat spirit. I learn to paste a fake smile on my face that can be ready at any moment in response of one of their jokes.
During that time, I am oddly jealous of any women I see on TV, in person, in general. I get very annoyed that they can go on with their days and not look like they are on the edge of madness. I am annoyed if they have found the time to file their nails. Yes, I notice those things. Then, like clockwork, I feel better. I wake up three days later and greet the sunlight with a grin and a prayer. I smile when I am awakened in the middle of the night by one of my children. When that same child proceeds to cover me in last night's partially digested meal, I resist the urge to gag with them. I lovingly pick them up and clean them up. I hold them close until they fall asleep. Then, I clean the carpet, sheets, comforter, mattress, tub, toilet, the rest of the bathroom, and myself in the dead of the night.
In the meantime, I pray that their childhood illnesses synchronize watches with the rest of the month... O_o
There are some women who claim that they LOVE being a mother. All. The. Time. They love when their child wakes them up in the middle of the night. They love when that same child then proceeds to cover them in that night's regurgitated dinner. They love cleaning the child, themselves, carpet, sheets, comforter, mattress, tub, toilet, and the rest of the bathroom in the dead of the night. They love when they repeat the cleaning three minutes later....8 minutes after that....12 minutes after that....5 minutes after that....and repeat, clean, and rinse for the rest of the night and following day. The problem is that I am not that mother. At. All.
I get frustrated. I get upset. I get annoyed. I get irritated. I get mad. I get stressed. It is usually the worst during a certain time of the month. No, it is definitely worst during a certain time of the month. PMS is the most evil natural occurrence in a woman's life. It is not helping that hormonally my uterus is asking why there isn't a fertilized egg in there. It proceeds to rid itself of that emptiness with an emotional fury that destroys everything in it's path. I went two glorious years with no visits from that evil wench. But when she came back unannounced, she came back with a vengeance. During that week, I am not fit for mothering and nurturing. I muster up the strength to laugh at their jokes and listen to their stories. I muster up the courage to wake up in the morning and begin the day with an upbeat spirit. I learn to paste a fake smile on my face that can be ready at any moment in response of one of their jokes.
During that time, I am oddly jealous of any women I see on TV, in person, in general. I get very annoyed that they can go on with their days and not look like they are on the edge of madness. I am annoyed if they have found the time to file their nails. Yes, I notice those things. Then, like clockwork, I feel better. I wake up three days later and greet the sunlight with a grin and a prayer. I smile when I am awakened in the middle of the night by one of my children. When that same child proceeds to cover me in last night's partially digested meal, I resist the urge to gag with them. I lovingly pick them up and clean them up. I hold them close until they fall asleep. Then, I clean the carpet, sheets, comforter, mattress, tub, toilet, the rest of the bathroom, and myself in the dead of the night.
In the meantime, I pray that their childhood illnesses synchronize watches with the rest of the month... O_o
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
MOMMY PROOF #20: IF EVER YOU ARE AFRAID OR HURT OR UPSET, JUST REMEMBER THE WAY YOU FEEL WHEN I HOLD YOU IN MY ARMS.
As much as I wanted to keep my children free from the burden of scary news, I knew that I would have to let them know more than I wanted them to know about the tragedy that occurred at Sandy Hook Elementary School. And tell them I did, in a long run on sentence like the one I prior to this one. I made a vow to myself: Only tell them the information they are able to handle emotionally. I didn't want to tell them anything. But we live in a day and age of breaking news breaking before it is a complete story.
As the news trickled in through pictures of family members in complete despair and incomplete details, I knew that this would forever alter how I felt as my children were in school. I will never look at their teachers quite the same way. Their teachers are an extension of myself. They are not just their teachers. They are their cheerleaders, counselors, protectors. When they are in their care, I would love to believe that they love them as we do, even for just that time. That if ever there is an emergency, our children's safety is their main concern. I am uncomfortably content with that knowledge.
There are times when you will not be able to explain why the actions of others, why this world is the way it is, or if it will ever make sense. The truth is that, at times, it won't make any sense. Some times the world is scary, but I don't want that to be their focus. So whenever there is a time that they are hurt or scared, it will be okay. It is okay to tell Mrs. H., Mrs. B., or Mrs. G. Principal P. is there just for you. They are extensions of me and Daddy. You are never alone. I may not always physically be there, But I made a vow to them that day:
1. I will always be thinking about them.
2. I will always love them.
3. I will always come for them.
.....No matter what, whether they are scared or in trouble or having a horrible day, I will always be there. I will always send them off with a hug and kiss. It won't matter if we are running later than late or we had a bad morning. I told them, "If ever you are afraid or hurt or upset, just remember the way you feel when I hold you in my arms." That is my Mommy Proof #20. For them that was enough to conquer their fears. It was just enough to help them sleep peacefully. Me on the other hand,.......
In loving memory of the Sandy Hook victims.
As the news trickled in through pictures of family members in complete despair and incomplete details, I knew that this would forever alter how I felt as my children were in school. I will never look at their teachers quite the same way. Their teachers are an extension of myself. They are not just their teachers. They are their cheerleaders, counselors, protectors. When they are in their care, I would love to believe that they love them as we do, even for just that time. That if ever there is an emergency, our children's safety is their main concern. I am uncomfortably content with that knowledge.
There are times when you will not be able to explain why the actions of others, why this world is the way it is, or if it will ever make sense. The truth is that, at times, it won't make any sense. Some times the world is scary, but I don't want that to be their focus. So whenever there is a time that they are hurt or scared, it will be okay. It is okay to tell Mrs. H., Mrs. B., or Mrs. G. Principal P. is there just for you. They are extensions of me and Daddy. You are never alone. I may not always physically be there, But I made a vow to them that day:
1. I will always be thinking about them.
2. I will always love them.
3. I will always come for them.
.....No matter what, whether they are scared or in trouble or having a horrible day, I will always be there. I will always send them off with a hug and kiss. It won't matter if we are running later than late or we had a bad morning. I told them, "If ever you are afraid or hurt or upset, just remember the way you feel when I hold you in my arms." That is my Mommy Proof #20. For them that was enough to conquer their fears. It was just enough to help them sleep peacefully. Me on the other hand,.......
In loving memory of the Sandy Hook victims.
Monday, January 7, 2013
I Have Always Wanted to Use the Word "Gizmo"....
Mommy Proof #19: Technology is the devil.
I don't know my children anymore. Four years ago, I bought my precious angels a hand held educational video game. I live five hours from my parents and I was hoping I could keep them occupied in the car. It worked! The only problem is it worked too well. Every time I turned around, I was buying and replacing batteries. We were on a search for games. I was telling them to take a break. I was encouraging them to read a book and color a picture....not a screen.
Eventually, I hid them. Both of their games were hidden in a place that sometimes I couldn't remember. I also hid their cartridges. Out of sight. Out of mind. And it worked. I would "find" them whenever we went to a trip that took longer than two hours. Then, we purchased a vehicle with a DVD player. It was heavenly on the road trips to my parents. The kids sat contently watching a screen until the closing credits. Then, we would be shocked into reality. "MOM!!!!!!" "THE MOVIE IS OVER!!!!!" "MOM!!!!! I want to watch (insert whatever popular children's movie)." It went from that to them picking a out movie for a 8 minute trip to the grocery store....and back. I put a stop to it! I took the DVDs out of the SUV. I stocked the SUV with books and small toys. I would calmly respond to request for a movie, with read this book or play with that toy.
Then, they got older and a WII entered my home. Well, at least they were active. Right? It was fine for a while. Until one of them got the hang of the game before the other did. Then, two could play better than the other. Then, we needed another controller. Who gets to play first? Who gets to choose the game? Then, that got old and they discovered my NINTENDO DS.....and adopted it as their own. And the baby grew up. And he needed a game. So I got him one, then they wanted to play it. Then, he didn't have a game again. Then, the DS broke after someone dropped it on the ground. THAT WAS IT! I decided that day, I would not be buying another electronic device again. I am tired of touch screens and graphics. I am tired of hearing "bleep bloop bloppity boop." We live in an era of smart phones, laptops, tablets, and e-readers. There is literally an App for finding apps. I don't want my children to turn a page by flicking their finger across a screen. I want them to have to turn on the flashlight under the covers to sneak and read the pages. I don't want them to have to charge their gadget or gizmo to get lost in reading.
So why did I just buy them each a gadget, device, and gizmo? O_o
I don't know my children anymore. Four years ago, I bought my precious angels a hand held educational video game. I live five hours from my parents and I was hoping I could keep them occupied in the car. It worked! The only problem is it worked too well. Every time I turned around, I was buying and replacing batteries. We were on a search for games. I was telling them to take a break. I was encouraging them to read a book and color a picture....not a screen.
Eventually, I hid them. Both of their games were hidden in a place that sometimes I couldn't remember. I also hid their cartridges. Out of sight. Out of mind. And it worked. I would "find" them whenever we went to a trip that took longer than two hours. Then, we purchased a vehicle with a DVD player. It was heavenly on the road trips to my parents. The kids sat contently watching a screen until the closing credits. Then, we would be shocked into reality. "MOM!!!!!!" "THE MOVIE IS OVER!!!!!" "MOM!!!!! I want to watch (insert whatever popular children's movie)." It went from that to them picking a out movie for a 8 minute trip to the grocery store....and back. I put a stop to it! I took the DVDs out of the SUV. I stocked the SUV with books and small toys. I would calmly respond to request for a movie, with read this book or play with that toy.
Then, they got older and a WII entered my home. Well, at least they were active. Right? It was fine for a while. Until one of them got the hang of the game before the other did. Then, two could play better than the other. Then, we needed another controller. Who gets to play first? Who gets to choose the game? Then, that got old and they discovered my NINTENDO DS.....and adopted it as their own. And the baby grew up. And he needed a game. So I got him one, then they wanted to play it. Then, he didn't have a game again. Then, the DS broke after someone dropped it on the ground. THAT WAS IT! I decided that day, I would not be buying another electronic device again. I am tired of touch screens and graphics. I am tired of hearing "bleep bloop bloppity boop." We live in an era of smart phones, laptops, tablets, and e-readers. There is literally an App for finding apps. I don't want my children to turn a page by flicking their finger across a screen. I want them to have to turn on the flashlight under the covers to sneak and read the pages. I don't want them to have to charge their gadget or gizmo to get lost in reading.
So why did I just buy them each a gadget, device, and gizmo? O_o
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