I stink, therefore I am
29 May 2012 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: bagel chips, cheerios, garlic, Moh's scale, vampire
It never ceases to amaze me what my kid will or will not eat on any given day. Some days the only thing she’ll eat are Cheerios and bananas. Some days she digs brie and salsa. One thing that she does seem to love most of the time that I cannot wrap my head around is garlic bagel chips. Her father introduced those to her, and it’s become quite a favorite.
I can’t stand regular bagel chips. I think eating those is kind of like trying to nibble on chips of concrete. It may be one of the hardest substances on earth….an 11 on the Moh’s scale. The garlic chips are impregnated with the essence of garlic (duh). It has a potency that cannot be ignored. I think that for every single bagel chip in the bag, 15 cloves of garlic gave their lives (and stinkiness).
Don’t get me wrong. I dig garlic just fine. But my kid may be a closet Italian. Even in the morning, her dad will make her scrambled eggs liberally doused with garlic powder. She loves it. At night I lay next to her sometimes and you can practically see the fumes coming off of her in the dark.
One thing is for sure: the vampires will never come for my daughter.
Eee iii eee van Gogh
24 May 2012 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: diaper, fecal coliform, poo, rash, van Gogh
While I’m reluctant to urge Stella to grow up faster than she already is, there will be things about infancy and toddlerism (yeah, I made that word up) that I won’t miss. The issues that come along with diapers are first and foremost on that list.
I know I wrote recently about runaway poo pellets and the like. Her big thing now is she likes to try to help mommy during diaper changes by reaching around and scraping poo off with her fingers. I’ve heard horror stories of kids getting all Van Gogh in their crib with a poop palette, but have fortunately avoided that. The worst thing is the hands…. You can practically see the individual fecal coliform colonies on her fingers and under her nails. And washing a toddler’s hands WELL is beyond challenging. If I hit the jackpot, I’m installing a tot-sized sink where she can stand and wash. Now, I stand like a crane on one leg, balancing a wiggling kid, trying to desperately reach soap and water before she touches her face one more time.
Of course, it may be less of an issue of wanting to help me as it is pure delight and relief to get that diaper off her butt. My poor kid has had quite the struggle with diaper rash. Yeah, yeah… we’ve done everything we’re supposed to do – frequent changing and creams. I also try to let her have “nekkid time” in order to give her little bits some air. Invariably, she giggles and runs to a corner in the house where she promptly squats and pees. Every damn time. One day, she left a trail of poo across the floor when I was distracted running her bath water. Being a mommy is certainly glamorous.
Vastaytion
24 May 2012 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: Avery Island, fishing, tantrum, Tobasco, vacation
It’s been a while. The past couple of weeks have been a bit of a whirlwind, dominated by the stomach virus from hell (already detailed in a previous post) and vacation. I should probably put vacation in quotes. Here’s why:
Once upon a time (this means pre-baby), Will and I were avid outdoors people. We loved to camp (and by that, I mean true tent camping), fish, and kayak. It was rare that a month would go by without at least one or two of those activities being checked off the list. Our outings got a bit limited once we bought our house, as A) discretionary spending dropped by a huge degree, and B) we needed to spend our time and energy working on/around the house. Fast-forward 3 years and we haven’t gotten to do any of our once-favored activities (well, Will did get to go fishing with his dad and brother a couple of times, but I don’t count that since I didn’t participate).
We finally decided we needed to make the time and cough up the money to leave town, just for a few nights. We researched and found one of Louisiana’s state parks to visit – Cypremort Point. It’s down along the marsh adjacent to the bays, so fishing there is salty to brackish (that means for people like us, there’s a chance in hell you’ll catch something), and the cabins looked nice and new (thanks to all the hurricanes). Will planned to take his kayak and fish. I knew I couldn’t do that because of the baby, but I figured she and I could play on the “manmade beach” and maybe find a playground or something.
I hate to say this, but this vacation was hugely disappointing to me. To start, Stella was simply too worn down from the stomach virus the first day to do anything. I tried to take her to the beach, but this is a typical Louisiana beach – both the water and the sand are muddy brown. The bugs were awful due to our proximity to the marsh. And when Stella tantrumed after I had to remove the 3rd cigarette butt from her hand, I gave up and she and I went back to the cabin where she proceeded to cry and whine around the room for the rest of the day. Will was out fishing, so he missed a lot of this. The only bright spot of that day was that he caught a nice fish which I was able to cook for dinner (yep, I still got to cook and clean up after 3 meals a day).
Stella having fun on vacation
Our second (and last) full day was better. Stella was more herself and we drove up to nearby Avery Island. We skipped the Tobasco plant tour (I somehow think Stella would miss some of the fine points of the experience at this point) but spent a couple of hours in the jungle gardens. Other than the nice screened-in porch of our cabin, that was the only bright spot of vacation for me. When we got home the next day, I can honestly say I was more stressed and worn out than I had been when we left.
Vacation Day 2: Slightly more fun
I’ve since talked to other moms and this is typical. Somehow, I guess I had been in denial. Vacations aren’t vacations when you travel with these little people. It’s not as bad when you go with other people (such as when we’ve gone to the Alabama coast with my mom); you have people there that can tag in and watch the kid while you get a break. With just the 3 of us, there was no break.
I do know one thing: Unless I can detach enough from Stella to leave her with a grandparent overnight, I’m not going on vacation again for a long, long time.
Bile You Were Sleeping
12 May 2012 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: fish sticks, laundry, puke, stomach virus, vomit
We had a good run. Statistics say that most kids 3 and under get at least 2 stomach viruses a year – more if they’re in daycare. We finally got ours after 19 months. It started very abruptly last night about 2 hours after she went to bed. She woke, crying, and after it was apparent she wasn’t going to put herself back down, I went in to lay down on the floor beside her, pat on her, etc… After about 10 minutes, she got on all fours and proceeded to heave up every bit of her dinner. Unfortunately for me, dinner was large and stinky (those damn fish sticks again….and I thought they smelled bad coming out the other end).
Not since the very beginning of parenthood have I had such a “what the hell do you do now?!” moment. I hollered for Will, as divide and conquer seemed the only real solution. The baby was screaming and covered with nastiness and she had some horrific smelly piles in her crib. By picking up the baby, Will and I were both quickly smeared with smelliness. Since I’m the rock star, the baby wanted me to hold her. Will got stuck with the muck in the crib. As soon as he had dealt with that, we were in the living room having a conference on how to handle the night. Stella barfed again, this time all down my front (and hers, of course). Another “what the hell do you do now?!” moment passes. Finally, I put the baby down long enough to strip off my gown, pick her up, strip her down to her diaper, wait for Will to bring some warm rags to clean ourselves up with, and lament all the damn laundry this is generating: crib sheet, crib mattress pad, 2 sets of baby pj’s, 2 sleeping costumes of mine, Will’s outfit….and counting). I caught a very unfortunate glimpse of myself in the living room window: a tired, out of shape, naked mom holding a naked screaming kid while standing in a puddle of puke.
That was the worst of it (for me). The poor kid woke up trying to puke every hour and a half right on the dot. Of course by then it was dry heaves. I slept holding her on the couch in a semi-upright position, as that seemed to help her stomach a bit. Maybe. What the hell do I know?
This morning, we’re almost 2 hours without a puke and with a good bit of Pedialyte down her gullet. She’s romping around like nothing ever happened. I feel like I’ve been hit by a big smelly truck and I’m surrounded by laundry (we had some more casualties by dawn). From what I understand, I’m to keep her well hydrated, expect a fever, and keep her from eating anything crazy/fatty.
I really shouldn’t bitch. Stella’s poor nanny had to take Stella’s BFF to the ER last night, where they stayed, due to severe dehydration from what is probably the same thing. Fingers crossed she gets released today and all will be well.
In the meantime, I’m going to throw out the fish sticks.
Private Dick
11 May 2012 2 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: dick, gay, talking
So we’re still sort of in this nebulous world of sort of but not really talking. That doesn’t mean that my kid is silent. Indeed, she is usually chattering up a storm. The vast majority of it is nonsense, but every once in a while she accidentally says a real word. Sometimes she says the accidental real word more than once. Sometimes this accidental real word is something you’d rather not hear coming out of her mouth.
The first major example of that is that for the longest time now, she’ll get on a kick where she likes to bellow “gay!” Now, I know damn well she’s not really saying “gay.” There is just something aobut that particular consonant-vowel combo that’s appealing. It’s even more appealing when it’s shouted. We have lots of gay friends. Most of them have a really good sense of humor, but I’m constantly afraid Stella’s going to offend.
Just now I swear she shouted “dick!” at the TV. I hope this one doesn’t stick.
Where the Red Tape Grows
10 May 2012 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: autism, BISCUIT, Early Steps, expressive language, language delay, receptive language
I figured I’d update folks on our progress with Early Steps. After waiting about 6 weeks, we finally had our meeting with the intake coordinator and our case manager to discuss the results of Stella’s evaluation and path forward. After living in total fear for weeks about worst-case scenarios (autism, mainly), I had actually become pretty Zen about all of it. I was and am convinced autism is off the table for a diagnosis. We’ve been watching and working on exercises from all the videos and books I found online and ordered. Each day it seems there’s a new accomplishment – a new word or skill. Honestly, it seems like her speech development is about to take off exponentially. And each week she plays more and more with other kids at the Little Gym. That’s encouraging to me.
But we still had these people coming, and it was time to get the “official” results. After all, I’m just a dumb mom and geologist, not a government agency with all sorts of paperwork (I’m a bit bitter about the length of time this has taken as well as the huge volume of red tape….while not surprising, it’s just maddening when it’s your kid you’re waiting to hear about). The results? Exactly what I had anticipated.
She did score as being delayed in communication (more on the receptive language than expressive). The evaluator also marked her as being somewhat delayed on fine motor skills, but I think that’s bunk and more a function of what/how the evaluator was asking Stella to do. Then we got the result of the BISCUIT test (Baby and Infant Screen for Children with aUtIsm Traits). She scored a 20. Anything above a 17 is considered “at risk.” The ladies also mentioned that this threshold was changed somewhat recently from a 21 down to 17. In other words, had we had this happened a year ago, Stella would not have been considered at risk. They then suggested perhaps setting up a formal evaluation with a pediatric neurologist, blah, blah, blah. We’re not. I think when she gets reevaluated (in 6 months), her score will be lower, as most of the triggered questions dealt with language.
I now interrupt this blog for a bit of ranting: Lowering the threshold on the BISCUIT? Is this why the autism rate has recently jumped from like 1 in 110 to 1 in 88? Personally, this reminds me a whole lot about the ADD/ADHD stink. Suddenly, half the kids in the world were given this label, and, oh yeah: a healthy dose of meds. Can’t a kid sometimes just be a kid, even a really rowdy active or goofy one? I understand that early diagnosis and intervention is incredibly useful in these cases. I really do. But I also have to think there are a whole lot of parents like ourselves that have been terrified that something bad wrong was happening. I mean absolutely no disrespect to parents who do have autistic kiddos or to seem flippant about the whole issue. I just have to wonder if this is not at least marginally the medical community crying wolf here.
Anyway, she currently qualifies for speech therapy. Thanks to some other mommies we know, we had some names to pick from, rather than picking blind. Hopefully we get one of them. My personal feeling is that within 3-6 months this all goes away.
Hopefully, this is my final blog on this rather sensitive and serious subject.
Alexander’s Mother and HER Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
10 May 2012 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day, Australia, box jellyfish, cat piss, funnelweb spider, Judith Virost, snakes
I used to love Alexander by Judith Viorst when I was little. I still have my original copy. I used to tell myself “maybe I should move to Australia” whenever I was having a particularly stupid day. Being a parent changes your view on things, however. And this sweet little story about a little boy’s rotten day (and keeping it in perspective) metamorphosed in my head yesterday. If that day was bad for Alexander, imagine his mom’s corresponding day.
For instance, if Alexander awoke with gum in his hair, it’s his mother that will have to remove that gum from said hair (and possibly bed linens as well). This will cause the whole morning routine to screech to a halt. No time for bitching about who gets what breakfast cereal or toys inside. Shut up, eat, and get to school.
I’ll skip Alexander’s foibles at school. It’s rather nebulous what his mother does, but let’s just assume she’s a full-time stay-at-home mom. While her 3 (!) sons are away at school, her domestic drudgery begins. I can’t imagine the laundry of 3 children (plus 2 adults) or the mess/clutter/kitchen debris that would surround her. Instead, I’ll insert some of my own chores/experiences into this block of time. Every morning, there is breakfast crap to clean up. This is soon to be followed by lunch crap, packing lunch (for the next day) crap, and dinner crap. There is laundry to do at least every 3-4 days. There are bills, errands, maintenance cleaning and straightening. I find if I don’t do a toy pick up at least 2-3 times a day, we’ll all be wiping out and landing on our butts pretty quick. All the while, of course, Stella is underfoot (all of Alexander’s mom’s kids are school age, so she’s graduated past this) and needs to be looked after and entertained. You can’t leave the TV on all day.
And every once in a while, something unexpected happens that requires immediate attention. Like a cat pissing in your purse. True story. Happened yesterday. I won’t share details. But like gum in hair, you can’t put that on the back burner for later.
We’ll resume when Alexander’s mom picks them up from school for a ride to the dentist (where she’ll have to listen to the bitching and sweat about how to pay for cleaning and NOW cavities), shoe store (where she’ll have to listen to the bitching and sweat about how to pay for all those shoes), and finally to pick dad up from the office. There, she’ll have to try to corral the kids and then listen to her husband bitch about how the kids are mucking up his office.
There are still dinner and baths to go. More bitching. More kitchen debris.
For Alexander’s mother, there is no respite in daydreaming about Australia. After all, she knows that the world’s deadliest creatures live there (box jellyfish, funnelweb spiders, and all those bloody snakes!) and all that outback dust would be awful to keep off the floors…. Quit your whining, Alexander. You have no idea.
