Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Tug of War
I have not wanted to admit this but I am very grouchy this Christmas season...maybe some of you already noticed! ;-) I know plenty of people who are usually crabby around this time of year, I will admit the hustle and bustle is not for everyone. But that usually never bothers me, I love the busy and the parties and the shopping (by far my favorite part!) and the decorating and especially the music. I try not to be over-the-top, obnoxiously happy (ahem-LIN :) however it is normally pretty hard to get me in a bad mood at Christmas. This year something is different for me and I don't like it! As I admit this to you the weight of the guilt as I say the words is so heavy I am worried I won't be able to get out of the chair I am sitting in. I have NO reason to be grumpy. I am so blessed. So so so so very lucky and blessed...and I know that, I really do. But still somehow I can't shake this feeling of constant stress and being stretched too thin. Too thin..ha ha ha wouldn't that be a nice change since my answer to stress is to eat more cookies. I have been praying about it alot and so I thought maybe to admit it out loud to millions of (or maybe just 7) people would help to get it off my chest. Sadly now I can feel you all staring at the screen and yelling, "Get with it lady! You should be thrilled about how lucky you are!!". Geez, you guys are harsh! Just kidding, lovely friends. Is is possible to feel blessed and completely stressed out at the same time? Doesn't seem like you have mastered counting your blessings if you are sweating your to-do list at the same time. My heart feels like poor Toddler Baby when Large is trying to get under Mediums skin. Her favorite trick is to grab Toddler Baby and dangle her in front of Medium until a frantic tug-of-war begins while Med screams and Large sports her sinister smile. It's awesome. Don't stop reading in order to google Toddler Baby; that is one of Medium's 'guys'. He/She (jury is out on the gender) never wears clothes and I'm pretty sure I got him at the dollar spot last Christmas. He's not an official brand; Toddler Baby, is just what Medium named him/her. Feel free to giggle. Anyway, so what do you do here at the Animal House when you are feeling blue? We like to blame Small. I know he seems so innocent but nobody was grumpy for Christmas until he came along! I tell myself I could manage everything anything until I had a third baby. Luckily for Small-man it's not really true and I wouldn't trade him for the world. Even if that means I have to be buried under a mound of unwrapped presents (the official count for how many I have had to rewrap(thanks to the girls) is 4) for the next couple days. Have a very Merry Christmas dear readers!!!!
Friday, December 17, 2010
Winter Follies
Is it even actually winter, yet? I don't think so. Lots going on here at the Animal House, we are pretty busy on a normal day so this time of year is extra crazy. Good crazy, but still crazy. You know what would really round out a nice hectic week? Stitches. Mama needs a good curve ball...or two. Losing Small might spice things up a little too. Awesome.
It was only for a second but now I know what it feels like to have the air sucked out of your lungs. I was really hoping I would get to experience that feeling at least once in my life. Not really. I was loading up the van, and Small was all bundled up in his carseat. Bear in mind that carseat + baby = about 43 pounds. So it can't be picked up and moved by a child...or can it?! I put him in the living room to the right, on the other side of the sofa. Where are the girls at this time, you ask? Not sure, playing, singing, plotting a terrorist attack....it's anyone's guess. They should be getting their coats on waiting patiently for me to load the van. Anyway, I come back in from taking stuff to the van and I look to the right of the sofa....no Small. *GASP* All is quiet, I hear nothing except maybe some faint giggling. I take three steps into the living room and peak around into the kitchen when I hear a little whimper. I whip around and look down the hall (to the left of the front entrance) and there is my poor sweet Small parked in front of his bedroom door. This next part really needs an illustration or some hand motions so bear with me. Picture an infant carrier in your mind. It's shaped like a C that lays on it's back, right? Well imagine how sad Small might be if he were sitting in his seat as if he was halfway thru riding the Battering Ram at Kings Dominion. If the C were lying on it's back, that's normal but turn the C upside down and that was Small. Not face down but with his fanny and legs up in the air. HOW did he get there, you are wondering? The world may never know. But for now, he is safe and I can breathe again.
So I go to school for Large's Christmas party on Wed and Medium's sweet teacher Ms. Z knocks on the door saying, "I think you need to take a look at this." Oh no, that is never good. I can see a very bloody band-aid on her chin. "I felled at school, Mommy!" Medium tells me. She doesn't look fazed in the least. I check out her sweet little fat chin and it does have a nice little split in it. She goes off to finish music time while I gather up all their things and figure out my next move. My pediatrician does not do stitches or glue so I say to myself Patient First or St Mary's Peds ER? I know you are probably all screaming at the computer "Peds ER!!!!". Too bad you weren't there. It is 11:30am now. I have to go to work, I have to leave my house at 2:10. My bosses are very understanding people but the bottom line is if I don't go to work I don't get paid. C'mon people, it's Christmas!!! So I call Patient First and say, can you handle a 2 1/2 year old who needs stitches, really? REALLY? And the very nice nurse assures me that they can. So I go on over to PF instead of skipping out on work and going to the er or KidMed (a kiddie version of pf that is farther away and does not open until 3pm--drat). I have a real hesitation about this decision but I am trying not to be the spastic mother that I normally am. While I am on the subject of bad decisions...I do not stop to get them any lunch. THANK HEAVENS Small was already at home with my Dad ('cause I was going to the class party). I'll skip over the waiting room adventure and the emergency snack delivery (thanks so much AJ). The tech who got us settled in seemed ok, he was good with the girls. Medium is not particularly skittish unless there are animals involved or she just decides to be. I thought Large might freak a little but he distracted her with a My Little Pony coloring book. They don't do glue at pf so I was little nervous/leery/sad about that but I soldiered on. They numbed Med's chin (with a gel not a shot thankfully) and she is hanging in there no problem until two things happened: they told her she had to stop eating her 'printzels' (aka- pretzels) and the 'Dr' covered her face with a drape. There was a hole cut out for her chin...I guess she needed a sterile field? So Medium is screaming and crying "I can't see, I can't see!!!". The doc keeps saying (in her heavy middle eastern accent) "Stop crying, be still..... stop crying, be still" I'm starting to think...this is not going to be good. Until finally I say 'she's 2, she probably won't stop crying or be still'. So she goes to make the first stitch and her hand are SHAKING!!! Not just a little tremble, I mean like a full on shake. I wanted to scream STOOOOOPPP, and run right out of there. But a little part of me is still saying 'your just being spastic...everything will be fine!'. So instead of running I held my baby girl as tight as I could and I prayed. 3 stitches later we were all still in one piece (technically 4 stitches because the good doctor had to redo the first one). That was painful for my heart. I am not sure about that numbing gel but I know my baby SCREAMED every time that fish hook thingy went in. They take off the drape, Medium recovers and on the way out the Dr says, "Come back on Mon so I can take out the stitches." Yeah, sure lady, count on it. I am sure most of you have been there before I guess Meds is just getting me ready for what Small has in store for me. Wish me luck!
It was only for a second but now I know what it feels like to have the air sucked out of your lungs. I was really hoping I would get to experience that feeling at least once in my life. Not really. I was loading up the van, and Small was all bundled up in his carseat. Bear in mind that carseat + baby = about 43 pounds. So it can't be picked up and moved by a child...or can it?! I put him in the living room to the right, on the other side of the sofa. Where are the girls at this time, you ask? Not sure, playing, singing, plotting a terrorist attack....it's anyone's guess. They should be getting their coats on waiting patiently for me to load the van. Anyway, I come back in from taking stuff to the van and I look to the right of the sofa....no Small. *GASP* All is quiet, I hear nothing except maybe some faint giggling. I take three steps into the living room and peak around into the kitchen when I hear a little whimper. I whip around and look down the hall (to the left of the front entrance) and there is my poor sweet Small parked in front of his bedroom door. This next part really needs an illustration or some hand motions so bear with me. Picture an infant carrier in your mind. It's shaped like a C that lays on it's back, right? Well imagine how sad Small might be if he were sitting in his seat as if he was halfway thru riding the Battering Ram at Kings Dominion. If the C were lying on it's back, that's normal but turn the C upside down and that was Small. Not face down but with his fanny and legs up in the air. HOW did he get there, you are wondering? The world may never know. But for now, he is safe and I can breathe again.
So I go to school for Large's Christmas party on Wed and Medium's sweet teacher Ms. Z knocks on the door saying, "I think you need to take a look at this." Oh no, that is never good. I can see a very bloody band-aid on her chin. "I felled at school, Mommy!" Medium tells me. She doesn't look fazed in the least. I check out her sweet little fat chin and it does have a nice little split in it. She goes off to finish music time while I gather up all their things and figure out my next move. My pediatrician does not do stitches or glue so I say to myself Patient First or St Mary's Peds ER? I know you are probably all screaming at the computer "Peds ER!!!!". Too bad you weren't there. It is 11:30am now. I have to go to work, I have to leave my house at 2:10. My bosses are very understanding people but the bottom line is if I don't go to work I don't get paid. C'mon people, it's Christmas!!! So I call Patient First and say, can you handle a 2 1/2 year old who needs stitches, really? REALLY? And the very nice nurse assures me that they can. So I go on over to PF instead of skipping out on work and going to the er or KidMed (a kiddie version of pf that is farther away and does not open until 3pm--drat). I have a real hesitation about this decision but I am trying not to be the spastic mother that I normally am. While I am on the subject of bad decisions...I do not stop to get them any lunch. THANK HEAVENS Small was already at home with my Dad ('cause I was going to the class party). I'll skip over the waiting room adventure and the emergency snack delivery (thanks so much AJ). The tech who got us settled in seemed ok, he was good with the girls. Medium is not particularly skittish unless there are animals involved or she just decides to be. I thought Large might freak a little but he distracted her with a My Little Pony coloring book. They don't do glue at pf so I was little nervous/leery/sad about that but I soldiered on. They numbed Med's chin (with a gel not a shot thankfully) and she is hanging in there no problem until two things happened: they told her she had to stop eating her 'printzels' (aka- pretzels) and the 'Dr' covered her face with a drape. There was a hole cut out for her chin...I guess she needed a sterile field? So Medium is screaming and crying "I can't see, I can't see!!!". The doc keeps saying (in her heavy middle eastern accent) "Stop crying, be still..... stop crying, be still" I'm starting to think...this is not going to be good. Until finally I say 'she's 2, she probably won't stop crying or be still'. So she goes to make the first stitch and her hand are SHAKING!!! Not just a little tremble, I mean like a full on shake. I wanted to scream STOOOOOPPP, and run right out of there. But a little part of me is still saying 'your just being spastic...everything will be fine!'. So instead of running I held my baby girl as tight as I could and I prayed. 3 stitches later we were all still in one piece (technically 4 stitches because the good doctor had to redo the first one). That was painful for my heart. I am not sure about that numbing gel but I know my baby SCREAMED every time that fish hook thingy went in. They take off the drape, Medium recovers and on the way out the Dr says, "Come back on Mon so I can take out the stitches." Yeah, sure lady, count on it. I am sure most of you have been there before I guess Meds is just getting me ready for what Small has in store for me. Wish me luck!
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