Mommy By The Book » child care

My sisters say I don’t blog enough

Rachel — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 05:06:32 +0000

And they’re totally right. I told them to come clean my house so I would have time to actually do something else outside of work, but all I got were wrinkled noses and shaking heads on that one. But, I’m trying to write a blog anyway. YOU’RE WELCOME, SISTERS.

The odd thing about not writing much is that I don’t know where to pick up. Do I go through and recap everything, like how cute Claire looked as a little witch on Halloween and how much she is loving preschool and regale you with tales of my quirky coworkers? Or do I just pretend that I’ve been narrating all along and act like this bloggy and I are old friends?

I was reflecting today on what a rollercoaster ride this parenting thing is (SHOCKER, I know) and all the highs and lows we’ve been through recently with our offspring. A few weeks ago she went on an all out poop strike, even going so far as to make itty-bitty signs and to form a picket line outside the bathroom. (Ok, not really. Instead there was lots of screaming and squirming.) I was certain that we’d screwed her up and made her afraid somehow. But after much trial and error and patience and Googling and hand-wringing and eventually a call to the pediatrician we have it mostly figured out. Had I known ten years ago that someday my entire day’s happiness would be based on a little person pooping I would’ve been mighty depressed indeed.

So then after the high of thinking “hooray, we fixed our kid!” I was listening to her play today and realized that most of what she was saying revolved around her putting her toys in time-out and expressing her extreme displeasure with how naughty they were being. And then whoosh, down the hill I went again on that roller-coaster realizing that THIS is what she’s picked up from us as parents? Well, isn’t that lovely! But then I thought about it some more and realized that this is probably normal, I think I remember doing the same thing as a kid. And then the more I thought about it I realized, HEY, we aren’t such bad parents after all! Because as she put her toys in time-out instead of saying awful things and calling her toys names and stuff, she was saying things like “I am not happy about this” in her most stern manner. And that’s awesome! Because that means we are doing something right by not using abusive language! She learned that nice language from us! I’ll have to remember to high-five my husband over that one before bed tonight. It’s the little victories, people.

Anyway, life is good lately. Busy and hectic and getting more busy and hectic it seems, but I’ve realized lately how very fortunate we are to be surrounded by truly wonderful people. We have the most amazing family, friends, and neighbors, that I really can’t complain about anything. And I’m not just saying that because I know my sisters are reading this.

By the way sisters, the offer for you to clean my house in exchange for blog posts is still on the table. Babysitting is also accepted payment for blogging. I’m pretty sure we can come to an agreement here.

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!

Where is Mary Poppins when you need her?

Rachel — Sat, 03 Sep 2011 23:24:57 +0000

So! Good news and bad news!

Good news first: the husband graduated college successfully and got himself a grown-up job with a good company in the industry he wants to be in! Hooray!

The bad news: because he is a new graduate the pay is lousy and I can’t quit my job. Boo. BUT, it’s a start and what I think will be a great stepping stone for him in the business, so it isn’t all bad.

As a result, for the time-being we need full-time child care. Coincidentally, the very same week my man starts his job our little gal starts preschool (PRESCHOOL! GAH!), and we already have her signed up and ready to go at a great preschool, so daycare is out of the question. The best solution at the moment seems to be to hire a nanny. Holy overwhelming process, Batman! How in the heck do you figure out who is suitable to hang out in your home and watch your most precious little child?

It’d be so much easier if someone would just float on over to our front porch like this:

Sadly, I don’t think it is going to happen.

I’ve been doing some interviews with some nice girls and think I’ve found the right person. It’s been tough, but I feel like we’re doing the right thing for this time in our lives. We’re hoping it is just short term, so we’ll play it by ear for the next well.

Even though I feel like we’re doing the right thing, I’m still riddled with guilt. Hiring someone to watch my child makes me feel like a horrible mother, even though we’re working hard right now to make a better future for our family. And to make matters worse, sometimes I can hear the masked judgement in other’s voices when I tell them what our plan is. I can just imagine what is going through their mind. A nanny? I could never leave my child with a nanny! How awful to have someone else raise your child! Yes, yes, I agree! But you know, sometimes we all just have to do the best we can and it isn’t always perfect.

So, for now, we’re crossing our fingers that we get the perfect nanny for our little one, and that someday soon we can have the “normal” family life we’ve always wanted.

Wherein I am put in my place by a toddler

Rachel — Sat, 20 Aug 2011 23:01:51 +0000

The conversation in the car today with the 3 year old:

Claire: “I want a hamburger!”

Me: “Sorry sweetie, we are going to eat at home instead because you didn’t obey me at Grandma’s house and pick up your toys when I asked.”

Claire: “I want a hamburgerrrr!!!”

Me: “I know, but I told you we could get one if you were obedient and picked up your toys, but you didn’t listen to me and had to go to time out instead.”

Claire: “But I don’t want to eat at home! I want a hamburger!”

Me: “Sorry honey, we’ll get one another time. I still love you though.”

*silence*

Claire: “I love Daddy.”

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

I’m still here…

Rachel — Sun, 03 Apr 2011 05:01:19 +0000

…just went MIA this last week. Got home from the business trip after a long, loooooonnng day and completely crashed the next day. However, I had to quickly get my act together because my poor little girl, who hadn’t managed to fully recover from her previous illness came down with an even worse virus. By Monday, she was so miserable and coughing so hard that the blood vessels around her eyes had burst and she had little purple splotches covering her eyelids and around her eye sockets. By that night, she was coughing until she would throw up and just the saddest thing you’ve ever seen. I’ll spare you the rest of the heartbreaking details, but before the night was over we were all in tears.

I don’t know how some parents do it. We were crying over seeing our daughter sick with a bad chest cold. How do parents handle having a child with a chronic or serious illness? When I was 10 years old I became seriously ill with a mysterious bacterial infection in my intestines and was hospitalized for a week after being terribly sick for almost a month. My parents cried pretty much that whole week. Now I understand why. There may be nothing more mentally, physically, and emotionally draining as seeing your child suffer and feeling so helpless. I admire so much the families who deal with that kind of stress on a regular basis.

Happily, the little one is on the mend. That awful Monday night she received a priesthood blessing from her father and slept well. The next morning she was still sick, but vastly improved and is almost back to her regular self.

So in short, this week we’ve been in survival mode- trying to find a way to tend to our sick child while still magically fulfilling our obligations at school and work. It’s in these times that I long for the simpler days that will hopefully come in the not-too-distant future. Until then I’ll just appreciate the fact that we are all healthy and whole, and while life is crazy at times, it is still a good one

Children’s book review: Art

Rachel — Mon, 07 Mar 2011 21:33:20 +0000

A while back I promised that in my quest to find worthwhile, interesting children’s books that both little one and parent can enjoy I would post some of my favorites. Here is another one to add to the list:

Art, by Patrick McDonnell.

Do you ever read the Sunday Comics? Well, I do. Always have, always will. Those of you who do may recognize this author as the brain behind the “Mutts” comic strip, which is one of my favorites. Adorable illustrations, funny, endearing, and simple text. He has managed to translate the same writing and illustration style into a full children’s book.

This book was given to us by a family friend who doesn’t have children, but has an eye for quality. Seriously people, books are some of the very best gifts you can give.

The book is about a little boy named Art, who happens to love creating art.

The story and illustrations are simple and sweet, with a clever play on words that tickles me every time.

My daughter loves the simple and colorful illustrations, pointing to different colors and shapes and jabbering away about them.

And for some reason, every single time I read it out loud, the last page causes me to choke up. The story isn’t wordy, but the sweet message comes across loud and clear. I love it.

If you’re looking for a book that you’ll never tire of reading with your kid, check this one out.

**Not a paid advertisement, just sharing the love.

Bye bye binkie, part 2

Rachel — Fri, 04 Mar 2011 23:07:21 +0000

Well, it has officially been one week since the binkies hit the trash. Can I just take a moment to brag about what a great kid I have? I really feel like we’ve hit the 2 year old jackpot. Like all toddlers, my little girl can be emotional, irrational, stubborn, strong-willed, whiny, clingy, and all around difficult- much like myself on some days, I will admit. However, the majority of the time she is happy, funny, energetic, sweet, loving, smart, playful, silly, and even downright reasonable. She is extremely easy-going for a kid, easily transitioning to new situations and new people. I couldn’t be more proud.

This binkie experience has highlighted all the reasons I think she is such an awesome kid. Last week I wrote about how disappointed she was when she realized at naptime that her binkie was indeed gone and the bitter tears that were shed. I had braced myself for nights of crying and no sleeping. I myself was a binkie baby, and the story goes that when forced to part with mine I cried for days, searching the house for another one. I was fully prepared for such a scene to unfold with my own daughter. It never happened.

That night when we put her to bed she asked for her “binkers” and we gently reminded her that we threw them away and got her a toy puppy instead. She looked somber, but didn’t cry and went to sleep. There were no more tears shed from that point on. She has asked several times for her binkers, but she has never thrown a fit and has been so good. My kid is a rockstar.

EXCEPT…

Naptime. Up until this point she has consistently taken afternoon naps every day. Once we took the binkie away, she refused to nap. She’d jump around in her crib, put on a show for her stuffed animals, sing at the top of her lungs, cry, but she wouldn’t sleep.

Here’s where I interject a blurb about my jealousy for stay-at-home parents. If I were SAHM, I’d be bugged that the nap had disappeared (because honestly, the break is nice), but she’ll be 3 in a few months so that’s just how it goes and I would deal with it. Sadly, at this point in our lives we just don’t have that luxury. I work 5 days a week, all day. The husband goes to school every morning, 5 days a week and works on the weekends. His only time to get homework done is in the afternoons while the little one sleeps. The nap is not an option. She MUST nap for at least 2 more months or our whole finely-balanced system will fall apart.

So in our desperation we committed a parenting sin: INCONSISTENCY.

We gave her back the binkie for naptime. I cringe every time I think about it. I know it isn’t a huge deal, but I like to stick to what I’ve started. She still doesn’t have it at bedtime, which hasn’t been an issue so far. But it has worked wonders for bringing back naptime. We’ll eliminate it entirely again in a couple of months when the semester ends.

So for now it’s like 2 steps forward, 1 step back? That’s still progress, right?

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…