About 1 year and 2 hours ago one of my doctors stopped by my room and told me I could go home the next day. (I know it would be more interesting to wait until tomorrow to post that 1 year ago I went home, but we're having company for dinner tomorrow and between the ballet class, shopping, cleaning, etc, I know I won't have time to get online tomorrow.) When I think back to last year it seems surreal that I spent nearly 2 months in the hospital, but at the same time, I vividly remember the details of my hospital room. I also vividly remember feeling both excited and terrified about the prospect of going home, though I suppose it was appropriate as I felt that way about the pregnancy in general. I also remember that when I did leave the next day, it felt very anticlimactic. It was such a big deal for me having been there for what seemed like an eternity, it seemed like there should have been some fanfare when I left. At the very least I sort of expected some of the nurses to say goodbye, but my nurse that day was new to me and she just went over all the information with me and left. When my husband arrived to take me home two volunteers came to help us get my stuff down to the car, and that was it. And a year later...
Ben has been taking tentative hands-free steps for about a week now. He took 20 for my mom on Monday, but the most I've seen is 8.
He hasn't had an ear infection since his tubes were put in last month, but he's still a little snot making machine and wakes up coughing many nights. I'm going to ask the doctor at his one-year if it might be allergies.
It's very difficult to get Ben to eat much here at home. He will rarely tolerate sitting in his highchair for very long, so I end up shoving bits of finger food or spoonfuls of food at him while he toddles around the kitchen. Of course, at daycare they have no such problems so at least I know he's eating more and practicing with more finger foods there.
Ben loves the cats. They avoid him like the plague.
Lucy is still in love with Ben and he with her.
She had a wonderful spring break staying first with my parents and then my husband's. Since she got home she's been a nightmare. There's been way too much yelling (mostly me) around here the past few days and I really need to take some time out to figure out how to deal with her.
But she can still be sweet and funny a lot of the time.
Yesterday she was in a great mood when I picked her up from school. She proceeded to tell me how she can't wait to be thirteen because then "I'll be free of you!" And this was her being nice. ;)
I started the Sou.thBe.ach diet over a month ago. I really stuck to it, but with much in the way of results. I think that while I cut out all carbs (and therefore all junk), I was replacing it with so much cheese and a good helpings of mayonnaise that it was just too much fat and calories. But I'm still glad I did it. I needed something drastic to get out of the habit of eating as poorly as I'd been for so long. I'm not really following the diet anymore, but I have continued to make much healthier choices (without all the added cheese) and I do feel better. If I don't see some progress I'll probably go back to doing the Wei.ght.Watch.ers plan, but I'm going to try and just make reasonable choices for awhile and see how that works.
I also started jogging with a friend several weeks ago. Actually, we go so slowly that I'm not entirely sure I should call it jogging, but it's more than a walk. ;) In fact, I just registered for my first ever 5K in 2 weeks. We'll be going sloooooowwwwwlllly, but I'm determined to at least finish.
All in all, things are ok. :)
*I know the time because I kept a daily log the whole time I was in the hospital.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
So much for separation anxiety
Dear Ben,
I'm so glad that you like your daycare providers. It makes me happy to see you smile and reach for Miss R. when I take you to school in the morning. It's fun to watch you sit among the pile of toys and laugh as you shake the noisemakers. It would make me very sad if you clung to me and cried when I dropped you off. However, it would be nice if you showed some interest in me after we get to daycare. It kind of hurts my feelings when I try to say goodbye and you either completely ignore me or cry to get back to the toys. Just sayin'...
Love Mommy
I'm so glad that you like your daycare providers. It makes me happy to see you smile and reach for Miss R. when I take you to school in the morning. It's fun to watch you sit among the pile of toys and laugh as you shake the noisemakers. It would make me very sad if you clung to me and cried when I dropped you off. However, it would be nice if you showed some interest in me after we get to daycare. It kind of hurts my feelings when I try to say goodbye and you either completely ignore me or cry to get back to the toys. Just sayin'...
Love Mommy
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
On the Bright Side...
As I mentioned, I am not really happy about being done with nursing. Even though I complained a bit about the pumping, I wasn't really ready to quit that either. But first my son and then my boobs quit on me. In fact, for awhile I was like the long-suffering girl who keeps begging the boyfriend who clearly doesn't want her anymore to take her back. I couldn't count the number of times after Ben was obviously done with nursing that I lifted my shirt hoping to entice him back. No dice, he would either just turn away and ignore me; touch my boob with his hands like it was some strange new toy; or aim for it with his teeth. So I finally stopped begging him to take me back. And I am still sad about it. There was, however, one thing that did not make me sad. A couple of days ago I threw out all my nursing bras. All I have to say about that is "Good Riddance!"
Friday, March 12, 2010
Tubes
Ben had his ear tubes put in this morning. The morning went better than I'd expected considering we couldn't give him anything to eat or drink when he woke up. I took him to the surgical center and my husband met me there after dropping Lucy off at school. Afterward we all went home and then I came to work while my husband stayed home with a grumpy baby. He was still pretty unhappy even after water and juice at the surgical center, followed by a 40 minute nap, and then a bottle at home and some crackers. He'd be unhappy and then take a drink or a bite of cracker and suddenly smile at me and then just as quickly start crying again. But I recently talked to my husband who reports that after a big lunch and a nap Ben was back to his usual happy self. My only regret is that I didn't take the camera with me this morning. He looked so darn cute in his little hospital gown!
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Inappropriate
Last night I was ushering Lucy through the steps needed to get ready for bed. Yes, I was ushering her – if someone isn’t standing there telling her “ok, now go put on your pajamas, now brush your teeth, etc” she’ll get distracted and end up on the floor with a book or creating some elaborate scenario involving half a dozen stuffed animals. Frankly, even with me in the room guiding her every move it can still take awhile because there will inevitably be pit stops to bounce on the bed or adjust one of the thousand knick-knacks on her dresser or bookshelf or play with the cats. Where was I, oh yeah, getting ready for bed and she announces that a kid told her something “inappropriate” about her body. Me: pause, swallow, pause “really, what did she tell you”.
Lucy said she couldn’t tell me. As I have a thousand times before, I told Lucy how important it is for her to be able to talk to me about anything. I had to promise that I wouldn’t get mad, that I wouldn’t tell anyone else (course I had my fingers crossed behind my back). Still she hesitated. She kept assuring me that it wasn’t someone I knew. I kept telling her it was fine for her to not tell me who it was, but that just in case this kid maybe needed help I needed her to tell me. Then I started asking questions. I asked if the kid had said she touched her private parts, “NO!” I asked if someone else had touched her body, “NO!” I asked if she’d kissed a boy “Ewww, NO!” followed by lots of giggles. I can’t even remember the other paths our conversation took us before she finally divulged the big secret to me about 5 minutes later. Someone had told her “how much they weigh!” And yes, I had to stifle a giggle when she finally blurted it out.
I wasn’t really too worried about what the inappropriate thing was, but I was relieved that it wasn’t really anything to be concerned about. I’m not sure where she got the idea that telling someone what you weigh is inappropriate, but I took the opportunity to explain that some people don’t want others to know what they weigh and that’s ok, but that if someone wants to share that information that’s ok too.
The exchange has me thinking about two things. First, how do you ensure that your child will come to you with information that is potentially sensitive or embarrassing or scary? Second, I wonder how to balance the need to tell her about things that are scary and complicated so that she will recognize a dangerous situation and know to tell someone about it with the desire to protect her from some of life’s unpleasant realities and not unduly frighten a 7 ½ year old.
We’ve had the typical talks about bodies being private and touching, etc. But I seriously doubt that most children really understand the implications of such actions. And frankly people can be very subtle in their actions and words (both sexually and otherwise) leaving even adults unsure of their intentions. So, without divulging too much information how do you know you’ve shared enough with your child so that they are armed with enough information to recognize a dangerous situation for what it is?
And even if they do recognize something inappropriate or dangerous, how can you be sure that they’ll tell you about it. I couldn’t begin to count the number of times I have said to Lucy that she can tell me anything, that I won’t get mad or laugh at her, that I can’t help her or celebrate with her if I don’t know what’s happening to her. But still my 7 ½ year old, who still wants me to snuggle with her every night at bedtime, who still sits on my lap, and is liberal with bestowing kisses and hugs, was nervous to tell me that someone told her what they weighed. I thought I was doing the right things and saying the right things to make sure that as she grows she’ll know that she can come to me with anything, but I worry that even done perfectly some kids just won’t and maybe she’s one of them.
One thing I’ve learned over the years is that parenting is such a great joy, but it’s also full of little landmines. Just when you think the area is cleared, another one pops up. I guess really all I can do is pay attention and keep doing whatever I can to make sure she knows I’m here for her.
Lucy said she couldn’t tell me. As I have a thousand times before, I told Lucy how important it is for her to be able to talk to me about anything. I had to promise that I wouldn’t get mad, that I wouldn’t tell anyone else (course I had my fingers crossed behind my back). Still she hesitated. She kept assuring me that it wasn’t someone I knew. I kept telling her it was fine for her to not tell me who it was, but that just in case this kid maybe needed help I needed her to tell me. Then I started asking questions. I asked if the kid had said she touched her private parts, “NO!” I asked if someone else had touched her body, “NO!” I asked if she’d kissed a boy “Ewww, NO!” followed by lots of giggles. I can’t even remember the other paths our conversation took us before she finally divulged the big secret to me about 5 minutes later. Someone had told her “how much they weigh!” And yes, I had to stifle a giggle when she finally blurted it out.
I wasn’t really too worried about what the inappropriate thing was, but I was relieved that it wasn’t really anything to be concerned about. I’m not sure where she got the idea that telling someone what you weigh is inappropriate, but I took the opportunity to explain that some people don’t want others to know what they weigh and that’s ok, but that if someone wants to share that information that’s ok too.
The exchange has me thinking about two things. First, how do you ensure that your child will come to you with information that is potentially sensitive or embarrassing or scary? Second, I wonder how to balance the need to tell her about things that are scary and complicated so that she will recognize a dangerous situation and know to tell someone about it with the desire to protect her from some of life’s unpleasant realities and not unduly frighten a 7 ½ year old.
We’ve had the typical talks about bodies being private and touching, etc. But I seriously doubt that most children really understand the implications of such actions. And frankly people can be very subtle in their actions and words (both sexually and otherwise) leaving even adults unsure of their intentions. So, without divulging too much information how do you know you’ve shared enough with your child so that they are armed with enough information to recognize a dangerous situation for what it is?
And even if they do recognize something inappropriate or dangerous, how can you be sure that they’ll tell you about it. I couldn’t begin to count the number of times I have said to Lucy that she can tell me anything, that I won’t get mad or laugh at her, that I can’t help her or celebrate with her if I don’t know what’s happening to her. But still my 7 ½ year old, who still wants me to snuggle with her every night at bedtime, who still sits on my lap, and is liberal with bestowing kisses and hugs, was nervous to tell me that someone told her what they weighed. I thought I was doing the right things and saying the right things to make sure that as she grows she’ll know that she can come to me with anything, but I worry that even done perfectly some kids just won’t and maybe she’s one of them.
One thing I’ve learned over the years is that parenting is such a great joy, but it’s also full of little landmines. Just when you think the area is cleared, another one pops up. I guess really all I can do is pay attention and keep doing whatever I can to make sure she knows I’m here for her.
Oh, it's you again.
Today I got my period for the first time since August 2008. I knew it was coming since I recently stopped nursing and then pumping. Not getting a period for 19 months was a great side effect of being pregnant and then nursing and I sure didn't miss it at all. Having spent so much time trying and failing to get pregnant and then miscarrying several times when I finally did, I think I'm just conditioned to really hate any bleeding from the nether regions. On the bright side, since I'm not nursing anymore I can take as much Ad.vil as I want.
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