candy anyone?

I just realized that I forgot to write about Emma's first trip to the Emergency room a few weeks back. I got sidetracked by other issues.

Sarah, Emma and I were sitting on the couch watching TV just before bedtime. I was playing on my laptop while they sat next to me finishing up some Halloween candy. I can't remember what Sarah was eating, but Emma had a roll of Smarties and was gingerly nibbling the edges of them, one by one. Emma starts fussing and Sarah yells, she's got an M & M up her nose. I threw the laptop to the ground and grab Emma and try to look up her nose. All the while, asking her "did you put something up your nose". She just started crying (I probably scared her to death) and wouldn't answer me. Pat jumped off of his couch and got a flashlight. WE laid her down, and then I saw it. A rounded edge of a yellow Smartie was clearly evident just beyond the main cavity of her left nostril. Pat asked if I was sure it wasn't an M&M. I have no idea where Sarah got that idea from, maybe she was eating the M&M's but Emma was definitely eating Smarties.

I scooped up Emma, grabbed my shoes, wallet & keys and headed out the door. Thankfully, we live half a mile from the hospital. In retrospect, I 'm sure I could have handled this at home, but I panicked and didn't want to make it worse. She was crying pretty bad at this point and giving me looks that made it seem as if it were burning the inside of her nose.

I got to the ER and we ended up having to wait for what seemed FOREVER before they even talked to us to find out what the problem was. Eventually, the called us to the desk and we gave them the scenario and Emma got her pretty green and white bracelets. by the time we sat back down to wait some more to be seen, Emma had stopped crying. I think that all the tears and snot melted the bugger away on their own.

The nurse called us into the Pediatric wind and got us situated. I turned on some TV for Emma and she sat calmly on the bed. They took her vitals and then the doctor came in. She was great, her bedside manner was wonderful. We laughed about the candy and I told her that I think it had already melted away. She took a look and asked me if I knew what color the candy was. I told her yellow, she responded, "Yep, sure is!"

We laid Emma down and she used a long swab to scoop out what was in there...bright yellow goop. Then she used a saline was to rinse things out. Emma did not like that at all. But, she recovered quickly. We picked out a sticker and were discharged.

the whole time we were there, I was texting Pat with updates. He was telling me that Sarah was so worried for her sister. I had to take a picture and send it to him so that he could show her that everything was ok.

She remembers it all, and probably will. She has a great memory! Last week she had a cold and told us that she had boogies in her nose and that we had to go to the hospital to get them taken out just like when she had the candy in her nose!

Thankful

This Thanksgiving, I am thankful for so much.

For family that lives nearby so that my children can have wonderful relationships with Aunts and Uncles, Grandparents & cousins.

For friends who let me vent and be myself.

For children who give me hugs, even though it was just after they royally pissed me off.

For my husband who puts up with me as much as I put up with him. Who is my best friend and companion, and the love of my life.

We have our health home filled with love and laughter, a roof over our heads, food in the cupboards and clothes on our backs. We are blessed.

love

My birthday was last week, and it fucking sucked. I didn't get to see any of my family before I left for the day, which isn't anything that different, but usually Pat gets up and we have coffee while reading the paper together. Normally this wouldn't be a big deal, but in looking back, it just adds to my shittastic day.

I am able to squeeze a quick workout in after work and go to pick up my kids from aftercare and daycare. Sarah wishes me a happy birthday, and then as we drive away from the school, she proceeds to fight with me about going to choir. We get Emma and head home to where I find cards and birthday gifts, unwrapped, set out on the kitchen table. I open the card from the kids and it's great, I love it. Pat's card is nice, but there isn't a thing written in it. The gifts are fine, strange, but fine; he got me a pillow and a lap desk for my laptop-neither of which I needed or wanted. My husband got home, and figured out what we would have for dinner and went and picked it up. He could tell I wasn't thrilled about the gifts, but never said a word to me about how my day went, never said happy birthday, never gave me even a hug or a kiss. We went to bed and he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

I woke up Thursday morning in a horrible mood. As I got ready for work, it hit me that the only person who hugged me the day before was the toddler. The only person who told me they loved me on my birthday was the toddler. I cried on my way to work and got so angry with my husband for being an insensitive jerk.

I had a long talk with one of my best friends at work and she told me that I needed to have a talk with him about how I felt and that it wasn't anything to do with the gifts. She worked with me on finding the words to tell him that I need more affection, things needed to change.

I followed her advice and we had a great talk after dinner that day. He agreed that he needed to do better and that we needed to work on things. He neglected to give me the hug and kiss that I needed though. Our evening was interrupted by a trip to the ER with the little one, but he genuinely seemed concerned and willing to put forth more effort.

The next few days, he was working in the evening, but he made it a point to kiss me goodbye and tell me he loved me. But that was the extent of it. Last night, was our first evening together in a few days. We were having some decent conversation during the Steelers game, despite sitting on two separate couches (something I told him was getting in the way of our emotional intimacy). He wasn't that into the game and had said that if the Steelers fell behind by 14 points, he was turning off the game. At halftime, we closed up, went upstairs, and got ready for bed. He cleared off his side of the bed and then went downstairs, I assumed, because he had forgotten to do something. He never came back up. The game continued to be a blow –out and he stayed downstairs. I began to get pissed. The later it got, the more pissed I became. Emma woke up and needed to go potty, and when I got up with her and he still wasn't in the bed, I was fuming.

Maybe I'm overreacting, but I really felt like we needed to spend time together, talking or just being close, considering what went down on my birthday and the fact that he just came off working an evening shift which means we don't get to see too much of each other.

I am still pissed off this morning. I really feel like he wasn't even listening to what I said the other night. I need to feel appreciated, I need to feel as though I am important, I need you to ask how my day went, I need you to touch me, a hug, a kiss, a hand on my back. I need to feel like you are putting me and our marriage first every now and again. I need you to realize that when I tell you that I had a rough day with the kids, that I need some support from you, a hug, something.

hiatus

It has been a while since I've written anything here. I just ran out of time be able to put anything coherent down in writing. I promise to be better!

Here are some highlights that I hope I'll be able to write more about later.

I had an amazing night out with college girlfriends last weekend. It was so much fun and so needed!

We finally decided on a contractor for our basement renovation project, and signed the contract today! He says he should be able to start in two weeks, maybe sooner if we can get the basement cleared out fast!

Sarah's soccer season has been going well, they were undefeated until this past Saturday, which means even though they probably have the best record, they won't be playing in the championship next week.

I started, and just re-started, the Couch to 5K program (C25K). I am very excited to be doing this. Hoping to participate in a virtual 5K with the Sisterhood of the Shrinking Jeans. and then sometime in the spring, Pat and I want to do a real 5K together.

pain

Last week was a bad week for two friends of mine.

As a counselor, I am used to hearing bad news, and helping people through a crisis. However, it is sometimes much harder when it is people you know. And when the crisis they are gong through is one that you haven't even come close to experiencing yourself.

One of my closest girlfriends at work called in sick last Tuesday. I assumed it was something with her little one, until she came into work the next day. It turns out her 2 year old was fine. Instead, she informed me, she had suffered a miscarriage. Since she was 12 weeks along, we all had thought she was in the "safe zone". She was devastated--is devastated. She is in so much pain, and is trying to find ways to overcome it. She hasn't talked much about it, because she says it hurts too much. She feels as though her husband just doesn't understand the connection she already felt with this baby. She had named it, thought about how she would decorate the nursery, made plans that now she has to put on hold. She struggled to get pregnant with her first child and it took a while for this pregnancy to come to be as well. She knows she is older and things aren't going to get easier. I am sure this experience has also opened fresh wounds from her first pregnancy-she initially was pregnant with twins, but due to serious medical complications, she had to selectively reduce one of the babies. Thankfully, I haven't lost a pregnancy, nor have I had to make the devastating choice to save one child over another. I can't imagine what she is going through, and I hope that my open arms, open heart , and caring ear has, and will continue, to help her in the grieving process.

Another woman, who I consider a friend, even though we have never met face to face, is going through a horribly painful, life shattering divorce. She has been struggling with so many issues for so many months, only to learn of horrendous betrayal that multiplied last week. It is much harder to offer support over the many miles between us. I send encouraging words and positive thoughts her way, and take comfort in knowing that she has an incredible circle of friends to lean on during her darkest hours. The written word, through tweets and emails, is not always the best way to express oneself. I struggle to find the right combination of words to express my concern, and support.

It is times like these where I wish I had a magic wand to take away the deep pain that both of these women and their families are struggling with.

I hate sundays

I am not sure what it is about Sundays that get my children to decide to make my life miserable. Without fail, my Sunday morning is spent yelling and screaming trying to get them out of the house so that we can get to church in time for Sunday School.

Today, the argument was primarily with Sarah who refused to put her clean clothes away from yesterday. Pat yelled at her that her play date would be cancelled if she didn't take care of it. Of course, the hysterics began. It becomes all about how horrible we are as parents, not about her responsibilities.

I hate the fighting that always precedes church. I hate yelling at my kids. I hate feeling this way on a day when you are supposed to rejoice. Part of me wants to just leave them at home. Of course, that defeats the point of teaching them about God and religion. Part of me is so jealous of those who don't go to church. To wake up with no agenda, no rush to be somewhere. To be able to leisurely plan my day. But then again, I'm sure my kids would fight me about that too!

potty time

One of my good friends had a daughter a few weeks after we had Emma. We've been comparing their developmental milestones ever since. Emma sat first, M spoke first (I'm pretty sure M spoke in full sentences before Emma said 2 words, Emma walked first, M recognized colors and letters (seriously, this girl is smart). Well, my girlfriend decided that when M was 18 months old, she was ready to potty train. She bought pull-ups and got some books and videos and was determined to have her potty trained. She told me stories of friends who potty trained their kids that early and she was determined. I was skeptical, but she was a first time mom and, well, you know how they can be (wink).

So as the days-and then weeks-went on, L shared her frustration with the whole process. She was upset that the daycare provider was not working with her, she was upset that her daughter didn't seem to be making progress, even though she would use the potty at home a few times a day. I tried to tell her that it was probably too soon. I also shared with her my suggestions on potty training, but she brushed them off. I don't know what it is about this process that makes mothers so defensive. Friends have come to me with numerous parenting questions from breastfeeding advice to what first foods should they try. However, when it comes to potty training, everyone thinks they have the best solution. I certainly don't profess to be an expert, but I am on my third child and I've learned a few things along the way. But, whatever, you keep trying your method and let me know how that works.

I am a firm believer in naked potty training. Pull-ups are only used for outings, naps & bedtimes. The way I see it, if you teach them to pee in a pull up, it is no different than peeing in a diaper. We go naked in the house, wear pull-ups only when necessary and once it seems like the child has figured out when they have to go, we try training panties (those thick multi-ply cotton ones that Gerber makes). It is often two steps forward, one step back (or even one step forward, two steps back). Usually the first few times in panties, end up in accidents. all three of my girls could go accident free for weeks when naked, but then as soon as a cotton pantie went on, they would pee. It must be something about just feeling something on their bottom.

About 8 months or so, we brought our potty out of storage and let Emma get used to seeing it. She took to it pretty quickly. We spent a lot of time naked, a.lot.of.time. Then Summer hit. It is hard to do naked potty training when your are outside all the time playing with the neighbor kids. So, I didn't push the issue. We were still naked most of the time in the house, but I wasn't pressed to get it done right then.

Then one evening, Emma decided to go poop in the big potty. We were amazed and excited! She was so proud of herself for pooping in the potty like a big girl. It seemed she turned a corner on her own. Then came Elly. Elly was the new girl at daycare who is a bit older than Emma and was already close to being potty trained. That was all it took. Lina, the daycare provider started taking Emma to the potty along with Elly, and the next thing I knew, Emma was coming home in the same diaper she left home with. Last week, Lina handed me a huge bag of diapers and said she didn't need them anymore. Instead, I sent in a few pull-ups and panties and a change of clothes. She's been wearing panties ever since!

My baby is potty trained!! My baby is potty trained. I'm not so sure this milestone is a bittersweet as some of the others.

Oh, and my friend's baby M, she's still walking around wearing pull-ups as diapers. And, she finally asked me to tell her what to do.