Mommy By The Book » adventures

Life goes on

Rachel — Wed, 21 Sep 2011 03:50:27 +0000

So the last few weeks have been…overwhelming. In case you are wondering, trying to find a nanny sucks. Like I want to spend my evenings conducting interviews, you know? We decided on hiring a girl, offered her a job on a Sunday, told her she’d start on Wednesday, and thought everything was just dandy. On Tuesday afternoon she emails me to tell me she decided to take a different job. Uhhhh….? NOT COOL.

After a few days of scrambling while the husband started his new job, we managed to hire another girl. So far, all is going ok. It is an adjustment, to say the least. For starters, it is odd having a complete stranger in my home while I’m not there. I will tell you though that it has motivated me to keep a cleaner house, so that is good! But more importantly, it is a big adjustment for Claire. She did pretty well the first week, but I think she got confused by the weekend and is struggling a bit this second week. It’s pretty safe to say that my heart broke into about 8,000 pieces as I walked out the door to the sound of her crying this morning. Ah, I hope this period in our lives is short lived!

It is always a challenge to find a New Normal. We’ve done it over and over again since having a child through job changes, class schedule changes with a new semester, etc. It is never easy. But it is times like these that force us to pull together as a family and teach us to rely on one another, to communicate, to trust, to appreciate good friends and loved ones, and to value the precious time we have with one another. How lucky I am to have a sweet little family to make this all worth it!

The good news

Rachel — Mon, 30 May 2011 20:00:52 +0000

In my last post I alluded to some good news and then disappeared for a week. I know you’ve all been on edge and just dying to know, haven’t you?

*crickets*

Ok, well, even if you’re not, here you go:

My kid is potty-trained! Yay!!!!!

We haven’t changed a diaper in almost a month. It’s practically like getting a raise, not having to buy diapers anymore.

This might seem odd, but ever since she was an infant I stressed about potty-training. I mean, how in the world do you train a completely irrational and easily distractable little person to do their business in a wee potty? No one trained me on how to train someone to do this, and I certainly don’t remember my own training! The whole set-up seems rather preposterous.

There were a few basic tidbits offered by our pediatrician and the interwebs:

- Let her observe us using the bathroom. I realize that sounds disgusting and strange, but her doctor said at her 1 year appointment that this would lay the building blocks for potty training.

- Make it sunshine and rainbows and one big party all the time! Negativity is a big, fat no-no.

- Bribes are awesome

- It only works if the kid is ready

Over the last several months we’ve toyed around with potty training a bit, thinking she was ready, but then quickly realized she was NOT ready so we backed off. This time around though, I knew she was ready and declared that it was time and come hell or high water, we were jumping in and not looking back. We hid the leftover diapers (because if she knew we still owned any she would simply insist she wear the diapers instead) and stocked up on tiny underpants and carpet cleaner.

It was a Tuesday. The diapers had been stashed away, the M&M’s had been purchased, the towels were draping the couch, and our schedule had been cleared for the next several days. That morning, after a few brief tears of not wanting to grow up quite yet (I may or may not have shed some myself), the little potty was put to use and everyone rejoiced! But then, that very same day, The Great Hand Catastrophe occurred and I thought for sure the whole thing would go right out the window. But wouldn’t you know it, my little champ of a child persevered and through all the tears and trauma she stuck with it. I couldn’t have been more proud.

So here we are, four weeks later, and I haven’t changed (or purchased!) a diaper in ages. Overall, things have been going well. At first I thought she had it down within just a few days, but then she kind of regressed a little bit? Now we seem to be dealing with little accidents here and there, so instead of being all MY KID IS POTTY TRAINED, EXCLAMATION POINT! I’m kind of like, MY KID IS POTTY TRAINED, QUESTION MARK? I’m kind of at a loss of how to get her 100% there. Suggestions? Is this something she just has to do on her own time? Seriously, I have no idea what I’m doing here, people. Teach me.

Either way, the whole thing is pretty fantastic, if you ask me.

P.S. In other good news, her hand is healing up very nicely, finally! Just one little band-aid left on the most mangled finger, but she is using her hand like normal now and all is well. HALLELUJAH!

I think I’ve found a good excuse to never run on the treadmill again

Rachel — Thu, 19 May 2011 20:29:09 +0000

My cute girl with two functioning, non-mangled hands

So, do you want the good news or the bad news first? Bad news? Ok then, glad we agree.

Two weeks ago the husband was running on the treadmill in the basement while our daughter played and watched cartoons in the same room. We’ve had this set-up for a while, we’ve had conversations about never ever ever touching the treadmill while it is on, and all has gone smoothly. You can see where this is going. For some inexplicable reason my little girl decided to wander on over and stick her sweet, soft, innocent little hand under the moving treadmill belt and IT GOT STUCK.

My husband called me at work, in a panic because Claire was completely freaking out and would not stop screaming, even to the point of throwing up. I was trapped, having joined a carpool (which is a post in itself) the week before. From what I could gather there was very little blood, but a lot of skin had been taken off and my poor girl was miserable. There wasn’t anything that looked like it needed to be stitched up, even though her hand was quite mangled, so we didn’t go to the ER. It looked like what it needed was some good old fashioned antibacterial ointment, some time to heal, and some major TLC. That day (and the next few as well) that girl got whatever she wanted in our desperate attempt to bring her any sort of comfort and happiness. Watch movies all day? Sure! You want popsicles for dinner? You got it! Here, have some chocolate too!!

The following days were downright heartbreaking and completely stressful for all of us. Her hand had to be bandaged and protected. The first night I loosely taped some gauze to her hand, slathering it all with antibacterial ointment. The next morning, to my horror, the gauze had dried to her oozing, open wounds. We had to try to force her hand underwater per her doctor’s suggestion (which is painful on such sensitive wounds) and then yank the gauze off. Just typing that sentence makes me ill all over again. I’m sure I don’t even need to describe the howling on my daughter’s part. I raced to the nearest pharmacy in a frenzy, sweeping into my basket non-stick gauze and antibacterial sprays and band-aids with cartoon characters on them and anything else that looked remotely helpful.

In an effort to protect her damaged hand, my girl would keep it in a fist and wouldn’t let anyone or anything near it. While I praised her basic survival instincts and tenacity at keeping us from touching it, that hand absolutely had to be tended to in order to prevent infection and ensure proper healing. Even in her sleep, if I would try to touch her hand to adjust the bandages she would quickly jerk it away. Changing the bandages became a 3-man job that I would dread for over an hour before the appointed time to make it happen with the assistance of one of her grandmothers. Grandma would hold her tightly in her lap, while my husband gingerly pried her shredded fingers open and I sprayed and bandaged and taped as quickly as my inexperienced hands would allow. Claire made sure to fulfill her role in this as well and would scream and thrash as much as she possibly could. Each bandaging session left me feeling guilty for causing her pain, frazzled, and beyond anxious. Luckily, after several days this process was downgraded from a 3-man job to a 2-man operation and now, finally, is one-woman gig. (Lucky me).

Things looked like they were making slow but steady progress on most of her hand, but her 4th finger (the ring finger on her left hand, no less) just is not keeping up. That poor finger got the worst of the damage, it seems, and has had great difficulty healing. For almost a week I couldn’t even get a good look at it because she would not open her hand for anything, and when we’d force her hand open all the thrashing about prevented me from seeing much. A few days ago she FINALLY started opening her hand on command, even patiently allowing me to bandage her up with only minor whimpering, and one part of her finger is still all gooey and oozy and fleshy and mangled and just…awful. On Monday she began acting lethargic and feverish, and I panicked thinking infection had set in at last and called the doctor.

Fortunately, the doctor didn’t seem as panicked as I felt and offered some good advice and prescribed an antibiotic to stave of what looked to be just the beginnings of a bacterial infection. He did say, though, that while it looked like tissue was regenerating in the deepest part of the wound, it appeared there was still dead tissue stuck in there that needed to come out. I’m pretty sure I lost all color at that point, because he quickly assured me I wouldn’t have to scrub it, for heavens sake, but we still would need to care for it. He suggested wrapping it in regular gauze as opposed to the non-stick kind, allowing it to dry and stick to the wound, soaking it in water and then taking it off in an effort to remove the dead tissue with it. My stomach immediately knotted up and I wanted to positively beg him to take my daughter home with him for the next 3 days so he could take care of it, because I was done. I could NOT intentionally cause my daughter any more pain. No no no no no.

The unfortunate thing about being a parent is that you cannot simply drop your child off with someone else when the tough stuff happens. You now must be the hero. I remember reading an article once in my pre-child days where the writer described his young child dealing with some sort of worm/parasite thing? And for weeks when they changed a diaper, they had to search for the appearance of said worm emerging from his child’s bowels, and then pull the worm the rest of the way out. (I really hope you aren’t eating right now.) As the author described it: “it’s a damn horror show.” That’s pretty much what played through my head and provided some tiny bit of comfort as I drove home from the pediatrician. I may have to rip tissue out of my sweet daughter’s hand, but at least I’m not pulling a worm from her butt.

That night, as I placed regular gauze on her hand I couldn’t help but shed a few tears. My dear girl had been so brave, so long-suffering and upbeat through this whole ordeal and still had a ways to go. I was so proud of her. How could I possibly inflict more pain on her?

Happily, this gauze treatment has been relatively smooth sailing. We have to get pretty creative with ways to get her hand wet, since she still doesn’t like doing that, but she has tolerated the bandage changing like a true gem and it looks like we’re making progress. Hopefully a couple more weeks and everything will be back to normal.

So, let’s recap what we’ve learned here:

1. Treadmills and young children do not mix. AT ALL.

2. Don’t put regular gauze on an open and oozing wound immediately after it happening unless you want to make the situation 100 times worse.

3. Dora The Explorer band-aids, in fact, DO make the owie feel a little better. So do popsicles.

4. Being a kid is tough. Being a parent is tough. But we’re all stronger than we think we are.

As for the good news…well, this post is long enough, don’t you think? That will have to wait for another day

At last…

Rachel — Sun, 15 May 2011 21:56:53 +0000

So much news lately! So much to write! And yet, I seem to be so easily distracted by eating peanut butter and honey sandwiches (have you tried adding bananas? Delicious!) and watching episodes of Hoarders, which is straight-up ridiculous. But really? I’m spent. I’m forcing myself to relax a little this weekend, which has been so nice.

So, while I’m busy parking my rear on the couch and licking honey from my fingers, I’m hoping this will suffice:

Awesome, yes? Most definitely.

Survivor: Corporate Edition

Rachel — Thu, 24 Mar 2011 03:31:09 +0000

The setting: Hotel ballroom in Orlando, Florida

The participants: Overworked and under-appreciated sales consultants and their prospective clients

The situation: Sales consultants are placed in scenarios where mere survival becomes difficult, for example-

- Only 4 hours of sleep after a long, long day of traveling

- Stand in high-heels in a 10 x 10 foot booth for nine hours. Wait, make that nine and a half hours.

- No lunch due to time constraints and lack of available places to obtain food. Force participants to forage for food in their purses and steal a stray bag of pretzels left on a table in the hall.

- Endure nine and a half hours in a booth with a coworker that while very nice, does not share the same interests or sense of humor, a fair portion of that time being complete dead time that required that some sort of awkward conversation be made.

- Be forced to repeatedly shout the answers to questions that they are only vaguely sure of how to answer to clients that probably won’t call back anyway.

- Hold the conference in sunny Florida on a beautiful, sunny, 85 degree but force participants to stand in aforementioned 10 x 10 booth in heels for over nine hours in a windowless, foodless ballroom instead of lounging at the pool.

-Ideally, combine all above listed scenarios into one day to really provide the ultimate experience.

The objective: See if participants can keep their sanity intact, so they can come back and do it all over again the next day.

On the road again…

Rachel — Wed, 23 Mar 2011 04:49:51 +0000

So here I am, once again, in a lonely little hotel room. But this time it is in Florida instead of California, so hooray for variety, or something… Today’s flight was a tough one today, partly due to the sheer length, the rushing to change planes, the multiple crying children (and I am very tolerant of crying children, seeing as I have a small child that is prone to waterworks), and the fact that I didn’t have time to eat almost the entire day. But I’m making up for it by gorging on crab & bacon stuffed shrimp for dinner and a lovely key lime pie:

All in all though, there were many interesting tidbits throughout the day that I observed and tried to take mental notes of to tell my husband on the phone later tonight. For example:

- Realizing the awkwardness of sitting next to a nice older guy on the plane who really wants to chat about his daughter and grandkids and whatnot, but is hard of hearing…Do I try to end the difficult conversation for the sake of simplicity? Or do I continue to holler my responses two or three times?

- How awesome it was to be able to switch to the emergency exit aisle and get all that fantastic leg room

- However, the leg room did not exactly cancel out the fact that I forgot my neck pillow thingy or the 3 year old behind me constantly kicking my seat, or the poor infant that could not fall asleep and was so sad and grumpy because of it. So, roomy? Yes. Relaxing? No.

- SkyMall, as always, was awesome.

- The fact that I was able to connect to Wi-Fi while the plane was in the air blew my mind. I mean, internet access miles above the ground while moving hundreds of miles an hour? AMAZING. Does that make me sound like I’m 75?

- The night before I left I was very anxious and I suddenly had this vivid image of the fact that I would be in this big metal cylinder with wings that is somehow hurtling through the sky and depositing me on the other side of the country, and looking at it in such literal terms FREAKED me out. I mean, really, flying? It’s insanity. Now do I sound like I was born in 1810 or something? Needless to say, I was very relieved when I arrived at my destination safe and sound.

- It is gloriously warm here in Florida. I stepped off the plane and was embraced by the warmth and humidity and was practically smacked between the eyes with the realization of how badly I needed a VACATION, not a stinking business trip. The only other times I’ve been to Florida before have been with my husband, and feeling the lovely vaction-y climate without my man reminded me of how things just aren’t as fun when he isn’t around. (And when I’m working, naturally. Blah.)

- Speaking of relieved…this hotel is actually a normal hotel in a normal location near restaurants and convenience stores where actual normal people are, unlike my previous business trips in the ghetto. It’s nice to see valid business without bars on the windows and gaggles of homeless people around them, you know?

- Leaving Utah is always a culture shock. Seriously, as much as I love my beautiful home state, it’s kind of a weird place due to the crazy lack of diversity. It was kind of neat to see a kosher restaurant full of faithful Jewish men in yarmulkes, right next door to a bar. I don’t know what would be more unlikely in good old Utah County- a kosher restaurant or a bar in a strip mall?

- The guy checking me into the hotel told me I had beautiful hair and then instantly blushed and said he could get fired for saying that, but I told him I wouldn’t tell. Kind of made my whole night considering I felt like something that had been dragged across the country and was now a heap of smudged make-up and puffy eyes.

- One of the restaurants in the little strip mall by the hotel is a fast food Chinese joint called “Run & Run”, which pretty much seems like the most perfect name ever considering fast food Chinese will probably give you the runs. Heh.

Oy, I have a very VERY long day tomorrow and I am up past my bedtime. I should probably call it a night. Business trips are the best time for nonsensical ramblings on the internet, don’t you think? If you’re lucky I will return for more tomorrow. I know you can’t wait.

Somebody make me stop using the PhotoBooth application on my computer. I need an intervention. No one wants to see badly lit photos of a a lonely, puffy-faced traveler, I know this. I just can’t help myself.

Awesome and Awful: A List

Rachel — Thu, 17 Mar 2011 21:52:57 +0000

We’ll start with awful first, since I’ve always been the type who likes the bad news first rather than the good news.

AWFUL:

The car is in the shop AGAIN. Third. Accident. In. Five. Months. AHHHHHHH! Luckily though, once again this one was not our fault and not too bad, so that is kind of awesome. The husband was at school taking a test and walks out to find that some dude forgot to put his giant 1970′s era car in park and it rolled out of its spot and slammed into our car, mangling the license plate and scratching/denting the new paint job that barely had time to dry from the previous accident. Good heavens…
The toddler is sick, which breaks my heart. Hearing her cough so hard in the night makes me so sad. I’m so glad she is normally a healthy kid, I don’t think I’d be strong enough to handle it otherwise.
I have a wicked case of wanderlust, but no money to go on vacation anywhere. Boooo!! Mama needs a vacation, NOW.
And most awful of all (far more than any of my pathetic little complaints)- the situation in Japan. Need I say more? So heartbreaking and terrifying in so many ways.

AWESOME:

Actually being able to spend time outdoors! It’s amazing! The trees! The birds! The sunshine!!! I just know in a couple of weeks I will have to put the weather in the AWFUL category because of a spring snowstorm that is bound to blow in, but I will enjoy our family walks, my occasional jogs, and time on the playground for the little one while it lasts.
We got our tax return back, which is fabulous. Now only if we could use that money for vacation instead of debt…but money is money and I love having a little more peace of mind!
Spring Break is upon us and I am taking work off tomorrow.
The husband and I went on an actual date recently, as in a dinner AND a movie, both away from home! Dinner at a restaurant and a movie in the theater. The theater! We’re so posh now!
They say bad things happen in three’s, so since we’ve had our third car accident that means we’re done, right? Because that would be awesome.

I suppose some would call it a privilege…

Rachel — Wed, 09 Mar 2011 18:06:36 +0000

The other day I got that dreaded letter in the mail.

I’ve been summoned for jury duty.

I realize a fair trial where you are judged by your peers is one of the privileges of living in a free and democratic society, and that it is my civic duty to participate, but who has time for this? In fact, in the letter they told me jury selection itself can take several hours and it is “recommended I bring a book to read to help pass the time.” (Actually, come to think of it, that doesn’t sound so bad…)

I’m thinking of pulling a Liz Lemon to get out of this one. They’d let me off the hook for sure, don’t you think?

Not a baby anymore

Rachel — Fri, 25 Feb 2011 23:02:22 +0000

Over the last several months I have had a running list in my head of some milestones that needed to be accomplished with the little one:

1. Break the binkie habit

2. Crib to a “big girl” bed

3. Potty training (please, for the love…)

All of these strike fear to my heart. For one, I have no idea how to successfully accomplish any of these. Secondly, two of those items involve her sleeping habits, which I am positively loathe to disrupt. You know those parents who brag about how their infant slept through the night within one month of coming home?

Yeah, our kid wasn’t remotely close to that. And I secretly hate parents who have babies who sleep through the night, well, EVER.

(Haha! Just kidding, I don’t hate them…)

Claire didn’t consistently sleep through the night until she was 18 months old. Yes, you read that right. A YEAR AND A HALF. And I’m not talking just a once a night thing. There were several months where we were up multiple times a night, all while we both worked full time and went to school. Dealing with all that breeds a special brand of crazy, I assure you.

We tried everything. We followed pediatrician’s orders to a T. We read books. We listened to friends. We tried old wives’ tales. We threw away all the advice we have received and went off instinct. We stood on our heads in the light of the full moon and begged the sleep gods to find favor with us. NOTHING WORKED. It was evident that our child did not enjoy sleeping and frequently shunned eating as well. If she didn’t come from my body, I would think we weren’t related at all, seeing as sleeping and eating are two of my very favorite things.

Aside from a few odd instances though, this last year has been bliss. We have a good nighttime routine down and for the most part the kid is a gem. Why in the world would I want to screw that up? No really, why would I even think of messing with it??

Today we threw away the binkies.

Hold me.

The kid has actually been quite upbeat and optimistic about the whole thing. About a week ago I proposed that if she threw away her binkies, we would buy her a new little toy. (Bribery is the key to successful parenting, in case no one told you.) She’s been excited about it and when we went shopping yesterday she was the one who brought it up, so I figured we might as well go for it. She picked out the toy, then cheerfully chucked her binkies in the trash and I unpackaged her prize. All was going well. It seemed a little too good to be true…

Cut to nap-time. We went through the usual routine, closed the door, and held our breath. A minute or two later…”Mom! Dad! Rache! (she now calls me by my first name half the time) I want a binkers! I want a binkers please!”.

I went in to gently remind her that we threw the binkers away this morning and they were gone now. On her face I could see that all the pieces of what happened clicked together and oh! The disappointment! My poor little girl’s heart was crushed, and so was mine.

Really, sometimes I think having empathy is totally overrated. Why must I feel so acutely the pain that someone else feels, especially my kid?

This parenting stuff is hard. H. A. R. D. I just keep telling myself that it is my job to move her through the tough things in life. I mean, what 6th grader still sleeps with a binkie at night, you know? (I have a feeling there are some out there…) It’s my job to stop that from happening. She has to grow up sometime! And really, in the grand scheme of things, I will have to steer her through much more difficult things in the years to come, so I might as well toughen up now.

But oh, to have this little squish of a baby back…

Mama said there would be days like this

Rachel — Fri, 07 Jan 2011 23:00:20 +0000

Last night I gleefully thought to myself, “tomorrow is Friday and the week hasn’t even felt long! Wheee!!” and life looked rather rosy.

This morning my alarm went off at 6:00 like it always does, and as I inexplicably seem to do lately I hit the snooze button 5 times and finally dragged my sleepy bones out of bed at 7:00. I reveled in the fact that the 8:30 AM sales meeting that has been held EVERY MORNING for the last four months is now only held on Tuesdays and Thursdays and that I didn’t have to worry about rushing to work. I took my sweet time getting ready (relatively speaking, anyway) and left my warm home at 8:15 am to be greeted by the cold, hazy air outside and happy that it was the last day of the week and I had no morning meeting. Hooray!

I got on the freeway as I always do, anticipating the 25-30 min drive to Workplace and BAM!!! Holy mother of all traffic jams! Still feeling somewhat optimistic and rosy because, hello, it’s Friday, I figured there was just a fender-bender up ahead and once I got past that things would be smooth sailing.

source

Then I realized there was no accident. There were orange barrels shutting down lanes for as far as the eye could see- during rush hour traffic.

And then I sat. in. one. place. on. the. freeway. FOREVER! With no escape! We weren’t even creeping along, just idling in one place! “Well!” thought I, “so much for keeping our driving to a minimum to help the condition of the awful haze in the valley. What the heck, UDOT? Why close lanes now? WHY DO YOU HATE MOTHER EARTH, UDOT???”

I did find some entertainment for a short time from the woman in the car behind me who was talking on her cell phone and gesturing vigorously with her hands. Was it a fight with her spouse? An important business call? A phone audition for a soap opera? I will never know. But then an old guy cut in front of her and proceeded to pick his nose, which less entertaining and much more disgusting so I was back at square one.

After an entire hour I had managed to go the distance that it normally takes about 4 minutes to cover and I came upon two things: 1. The orange barrels were now narrowing the highway down to one (1), yes one, lane of traffic (have I mentioned it was rush hour? What were they thinking?) and 2. There was a freeway exit. Two roads diverged in a cold and gray haze, and I took the one that resembled freedom. I high-tailed it off that exit thinking I would finally make some progress.

Wouldn’t you know it, that cold, cruel mistress known as the morning commute was not done with me. I spent the next hour fighting my way through the congested surface streets fraught with accidents and long lights and all manner of mayhem. I finally rolled into work 2 hours after leaving home.

Friday had officially lost its glow.

But on the bright side, grandma offered to watch the little one for a few hours which means a HOT DATE with my man! We will be having enchiladas at home and then going to a dollar movie.

I know what you’re thinking-

Those people totally know how to party.

Maybe this Friday has a chance after all.