Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Yes, I am going to blog about poop (again?)
"I poo poo in da bed mama."
"Yes you did Peanut, but that was days ago. It was an accident. Everything is ok."
This has been our conversation after every nap and each morning as we start our day since Saturday afternoon.
The event itself was unexpected and we certainly tried not to overreact so as not to traumatize her, but it clearly had an impact. She was doing the normal "I don't want to nap" complaints which generally last about 5 minutes before she zonks out for two hours or so. Jason and I had lots of tasks to accomplish during the freedom window (nap) and were moving around the house quietly but quickly. I came in from the garage and could tell that the no-nap cries had escalated to the point where it was clear that something was wrong.
By the time I made it upstairs, I heard Jason go into her room and a second later he calmly but urgently called out "CODE BROWN, CODE BROWN." I was behind him in seconds. He had Lucy on the changing table and was cleaning her up. I grabbed wipes and did a collection. After a quick flush I went back to scoop up all the bedding and friends (damn the stuffed animals and dolls) for a mid-day washing machine field trip.
There has been some debate among the adults in the house about when and how the diaper failure happened. It has been at least eight weeks since Lucy has removed her diaper in the bed and she has never removed a pull up. One theory is that the diaper came off during 'the event' rather than before. We will never know how it happened, but I think the question of why is more of a karmic one rather than logical. Parents of toddlers must experience this at some point.
With all the bedding in the machine and the flurry of activity around getting Miss Lucy put back together the possibility of a nap was zero. She and I went downstairs for quiet time (Curious George) while Jason tried to finish some of the chores we had hoped to knock out together.
Later in the afternoon we sadly discovered that during the rapid clean up, Jason cleaned the kid, I cleaned the bed but neither of us located the actual diaper. These fancy diapers are filled with super absorbent gel. Washing machines are filled with water and the two together are a very bad combination. The 'fabric' in the diapers is not strong enough to withstand the expansion that occurs during a wash / rinse cycle. Upon failure, the diaper released thousands of small gel balls into the machine and all over the sheets and the wet furry friends.
The newly gelled sheets and friends were taken outside shaken violently then rewashed. I'm pretty confident that if Jason had been observed shaking the naked, wet Raggedy Ann dolls on the front porch that the authorities would have been summoned. While the stuffed animals were being violated, the washing machine had to be wiped out and vacuumed. All around - yuck.
I think its kind of sad that the whole event has had such a lasting impact upon Lucy. She looks so sad when she tells me that she 'poo poo in da bed'. I try to be reassuring and we talk about using the potty and telling us before she needs to go. My knowledge of psychological issues is limited to about five college courses in 1989 therefore I'm no expert, but I do recall that too much emphasis on the potty process can really screw a person up. She's so young and I think it's too early to select the issue that she'll be in therapy over just yet. I'd like to wait longer and see what my options are, I'm sure we'll find something much better than toddler poop.
"Yes you did Peanut, but that was days ago. It was an accident. Everything is ok."
This has been our conversation after every nap and each morning as we start our day since Saturday afternoon.
The event itself was unexpected and we certainly tried not to overreact so as not to traumatize her, but it clearly had an impact. She was doing the normal "I don't want to nap" complaints which generally last about 5 minutes before she zonks out for two hours or so. Jason and I had lots of tasks to accomplish during the freedom window (nap) and were moving around the house quietly but quickly. I came in from the garage and could tell that the no-nap cries had escalated to the point where it was clear that something was wrong.
By the time I made it upstairs, I heard Jason go into her room and a second later he calmly but urgently called out "CODE BROWN, CODE BROWN." I was behind him in seconds. He had Lucy on the changing table and was cleaning her up. I grabbed wipes and did a collection. After a quick flush I went back to scoop up all the bedding and friends (damn the stuffed animals and dolls) for a mid-day washing machine field trip.
There has been some debate among the adults in the house about when and how the diaper failure happened. It has been at least eight weeks since Lucy has removed her diaper in the bed and she has never removed a pull up. One theory is that the diaper came off during 'the event' rather than before. We will never know how it happened, but I think the question of why is more of a karmic one rather than logical. Parents of toddlers must experience this at some point.
With all the bedding in the machine and the flurry of activity around getting Miss Lucy put back together the possibility of a nap was zero. She and I went downstairs for quiet time (Curious George) while Jason tried to finish some of the chores we had hoped to knock out together.
Later in the afternoon we sadly discovered that during the rapid clean up, Jason cleaned the kid, I cleaned the bed but neither of us located the actual diaper. These fancy diapers are filled with super absorbent gel. Washing machines are filled with water and the two together are a very bad combination. The 'fabric' in the diapers is not strong enough to withstand the expansion that occurs during a wash / rinse cycle. Upon failure, the diaper released thousands of small gel balls into the machine and all over the sheets and the wet furry friends.
The newly gelled sheets and friends were taken outside shaken violently then rewashed. I'm pretty confident that if Jason had been observed shaking the naked, wet Raggedy Ann dolls on the front porch that the authorities would have been summoned. While the stuffed animals were being violated, the washing machine had to be wiped out and vacuumed. All around - yuck.
I think its kind of sad that the whole event has had such a lasting impact upon Lucy. She looks so sad when she tells me that she 'poo poo in da bed'. I try to be reassuring and we talk about using the potty and telling us before she needs to go. My knowledge of psychological issues is limited to about five college courses in 1989 therefore I'm no expert, but I do recall that too much emphasis on the potty process can really screw a person up. She's so young and I think it's too early to select the issue that she'll be in therapy over just yet. I'd like to wait longer and see what my options are, I'm sure we'll find something much better than toddler poop.
Saturday, June 08, 2013
Thursday, June 06, 2013
A trip to the ER
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| Playing at Grandmama's. |
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| Outlook, WA |
G&P were as ever in awe of how fast our little girl is growing and changing. They noticed her bigger vocabulary and communication skills. She certainly isn't one to let the things she "needs" go unnoticed.
Over dinner last night, Jason and I were discussing the fine line between letting go of what doesn't matter and standing our ground so she doesn't become a tyrant. I'm sure in some circles we're totally violating the standard parenting rules about not giving in, but so far her attempts at manipulation are transparent and weak.
Although, she got to me last night with a hug and a perfectly timed "I you you Mommy!" (Translation: I love you Mommy.) It was only after we got in our car to leave that I realized that by you-youing me, she was able to climb all over me while I ate - a big no no in our house. Next time I'll be prepared with "I you you too, now sit down!"
It was Dad's 74th birthday Sunday, so a mere four days after the departure of the Denver Grandparents we packed the kid into the sexy swagger wagon and headed east. Trips with the toddler take longer, especially when there are potty breaks involved. However, she took a decent nap in both directions which is nice for us.
Saturday, Lucy was periodically complaining about her tummy . "Ouchie Mommy" is about at descriptive as she gets. "Tummy Mommy" pinpoints the issue a bit more. She seemed fine, but by Sunday she was back and forth between happy kid in the pool (see picture above) and having intestinal issues. We left "early" Sunday night to head back to our hotel for a bath and to put our girl who didn't nap to bed. After bath she was cuddly and clingy. This is generally a sign that something is wrong. We didn't have our temperature kit, nor our toddler drugs (tylenol/advil), but we could tell she had a low grade fever. A quick trip to Target and Tylenol was dispatched. However, at 9:00 she was crying and yelling "Ouchie Tummy Mommy".
Maybe we over reacted, but a kid who is screaming (in a hotel room) and parents with no tools have few options. We tried to calm her, but she was escalating with the yelling so off to the ER we went. As we came in I was thankful it was Sunday rather than Friday or Saturday. We only had to wait behind a kid (20-25) whose friend brought him in stating that he had been hit by a car and an older lady with heart pain. Thankfully no bloody patients. Lucy was crying on my shoulder and the triage nurse was semi-quick in acknowledging us to get us back into a room.
Regarding the check in procedure - if we have insurance why the heck did we need to tell the hospital where we worked and our job titles? It seemed more like the collection of demographics than relevant to getting payment or health care for our person. On one level I understand, but in the moment it irritated me to have to dig out an address for my employer when we're on Jason's insurance. Parts of me are still 'in the moment."
Once in our ER room Lucy's temperature was taken in the worst of ways and it was high (noting that tylenol had been given over 90 minutes earlier) so they did some tests, poked her tummy, took a throat culture and sadly for everyone involved did a urine analysis. The nice thing about being able to pee on command is not having to use a catheter to get the sample. I've held Lucy for at 90% of the shots she's received and all of her pediatric exams but nothing could have prepared me to hold her arms while they took that sample. Heartbreaking.
Her tests came back ok, and she finally calmed down and fell asleep. They didn't seem to treat us like we over reacted, and gave us some information about how to check a temperature, give medicine and change her diaper. I think they didn't have anything else to tell us and since they don't know us gave us the most basic of kid management information. I took it well because I was waiting for them to get to something new, but they didn't. We left the ER around eleven and thankfully Lucy went right back to sleep. She woke around four crying "ouchie", but a quick rub of her back and some comforting words and all was quiet until about seven.
She was still experiencing tummy issues Monday, but her fever was gone and she was her normal busy self again. I was a bit worried that they were going to send her home from daycare Tuesday, but she was fine.
Lucy hasn't complained about her tummy since Monday and even ate most of her dinner last night. Happy and eating - that's a healthy kid. Whew.
This weekend we will not be hosting visitors, nor will we be driving anywhere significant. I'm sure Lucy will be bored and wonder why we never take her anywhere. I for one and looking forward to some quiet. Oh, except come Sunday we're off to our first "Toddler Birthday Party" for one of the kids at Day Care. Now it starts... gifts for kids we don't really know. Can you say "books"?
Tuesday, June 04, 2013
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Bath Time Burrito
Lucy asked to be wrapped up snug after her bath last night. She looked so cute and was having fun, so I captured this video.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Lucy makes some friends.
She napped with them and last night at bedtime asked for the 'friends'. I went in to check on her and ensure she had a blanket and found her and the friends in the dark sitting on her pillow.
Miss Lucy seemed pretty pleased with herself. I had to run downstairs and grab the camera. I think my grandmother would be pleased that the dolls are getting a second life.
I did ditch most of the clothes as they were extremely tattered and seriously out of style. I may have been the only kid in 1973 with Raggedy Ann dressed like Maude. Lucky me, I had about 6 color coordinating polyester pant suits with bum covering vests. So kicky! My grandmother made a lot of her own clothes, partly out of frugality and partly out of a desire to have clothes that fit her frame. She was a tall woman with a generous bust. I don't remember her shopping for anything other than coats, undergarments, shoes and stockings. I think she made everything else. Now that I think about it, Raggedy Ann and Andy each had outfits that matched something in my grandmother's closet. The barbies did too. It must have been difficult to sew tiny polyester pants for Barbie, but my grandmother did it. Thanks Elsie! Miss you.
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| Grandma Elsie |
| Maude |
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Saturday, May 18, 2013
A different kind of pickup
One of the challenging things about being "older" parents is that most of our peers are so far beyond the baby stage that they look at us with a profound sense of relief. I can see the looks of "wow, thank goodness it's them and not us" in their eyes as we deal with a cute, but willful toddler. Many of the old high-school gang have kids that are starting and even finishing up college. Even the college friends who 'waited' to have kids are dealing with the trauma of high school, but here we are talking about moving Lucy to a big girl bed and worrying about our it'll happen when it happens potty training philosophy. These friends love our girl and enjoy her, but it's with a grandparentish feeling. You know, hop them up on sugar and then send them home. The idea of playing in the mini-kitchen EVERY DAY is not something that sounds awesome, to these wonderful people. They've done their time in the Kid Kraft Kitchen. (I just noticed the K.K.K. - is Lucy playing in a racist kitchen?)
We have a great set of allies in this journey in JoJo's parents. They are young, energetic and seem to tolerate us well. The girls love each other and I know Lucy asks for JoJo almost every day. It is wonderful to have family who are friends who are going through the same thing we're going through.
However, we've talked about how it would be nice to have some more friends who are around our age and have a kid or kids that Lucy could bond with. We're attracted to the parents of one of the kids at school. Lily and Lucy are pals and Lily's mom is great. She's also pretty full up with friends and family in her own world. I stalked her for a bit trying to make a mom to mom connection, but alas we are friendly, but not friends.
Today, in the never ending quest for things that are fun and burn energy we took Lucy to Bellevue Square to play on the boats in the Kid's Cove. (See... you can have alliteration without doing a nod to our shameful friends.) Lucy still loves the boats and I love the containment as well as the soft play area. Lucy made friends with a shorty today who looked to be about her age (turns out is about 3 months older) . As Lucy and N. played N's mom and I started chatting. I've tried to talk up other parents at the Cove, but it hasn't gone well. Mostly I manage to scare tired nanny's or grandparents, but N's mom was funny, open to talking and very friendly. While the girls ran and twirled, we introduced ourselves. After about 30 minutes a wonderful thing happened... N's mom asked me for my phone number. Excited, I gave it up willingly and then horror washed over me.
"You don't sell Amway, do you?" I asked without any fear that if the answer was yes that it would be offensive. It would be..but then I'd simply be offending an Amway salesperson and I think it's allowed.
S. laughed and said she was a writer. When she asked what I did I used the simplest explanation that I've managed to work out that doesn't take four hours to explain "IT Security". This is where S lured me in and stroked my easily bruised ego "Oh that's not what I expected, you're so funny I expected you to be a comedy writer or something." (Somehow this blog doesn't quite qualify.) I did and do admit that my day job is rather, um... unfunny. I do like it though, so what can I do? I'm like a super hero, unfunny during the day, but when the situation arises I set aside my Security Policy Framework and drop witty one liners to fill empty, awkward silence.
After the girls kissed and hugged good-bye, we waived to our new acquaintances and headed on our way back to our regularly scheduled day. In the car I mentioned to Jason that it was nice that she asked for our contact information and that even though I'm clearly excited about the prospect of getting to know these also-40ish parents of the uber friendly N, I'm not the one debating when it would be appropriate to make contact. For once, I don't have to be the stalker.
So, we'll see if a play-date ever happens.
We have a great set of allies in this journey in JoJo's parents. They are young, energetic and seem to tolerate us well. The girls love each other and I know Lucy asks for JoJo almost every day. It is wonderful to have family who are friends who are going through the same thing we're going through.
However, we've talked about how it would be nice to have some more friends who are around our age and have a kid or kids that Lucy could bond with. We're attracted to the parents of one of the kids at school. Lily and Lucy are pals and Lily's mom is great. She's also pretty full up with friends and family in her own world. I stalked her for a bit trying to make a mom to mom connection, but alas we are friendly, but not friends.
Today, in the never ending quest for things that are fun and burn energy we took Lucy to Bellevue Square to play on the boats in the Kid's Cove. (See... you can have alliteration without doing a nod to our shameful friends.) Lucy still loves the boats and I love the containment as well as the soft play area. Lucy made friends with a shorty today who looked to be about her age (turns out is about 3 months older) . As Lucy and N. played N's mom and I started chatting. I've tried to talk up other parents at the Cove, but it hasn't gone well. Mostly I manage to scare tired nanny's or grandparents, but N's mom was funny, open to talking and very friendly. While the girls ran and twirled, we introduced ourselves. After about 30 minutes a wonderful thing happened... N's mom asked me for my phone number. Excited, I gave it up willingly and then horror washed over me.
"You don't sell Amway, do you?" I asked without any fear that if the answer was yes that it would be offensive. It would be..but then I'd simply be offending an Amway salesperson and I think it's allowed.
S. laughed and said she was a writer. When she asked what I did I used the simplest explanation that I've managed to work out that doesn't take four hours to explain "IT Security". This is where S lured me in and stroked my easily bruised ego "Oh that's not what I expected, you're so funny I expected you to be a comedy writer or something." (Somehow this blog doesn't quite qualify.) I did and do admit that my day job is rather, um... unfunny. I do like it though, so what can I do? I'm like a super hero, unfunny during the day, but when the situation arises I set aside my Security Policy Framework and drop witty one liners to fill empty, awkward silence.
After the girls kissed and hugged good-bye, we waived to our new acquaintances and headed on our way back to our regularly scheduled day. In the car I mentioned to Jason that it was nice that she asked for our contact information and that even though I'm clearly excited about the prospect of getting to know these also-40ish parents of the uber friendly N, I'm not the one debating when it would be appropriate to make contact. For once, I don't have to be the stalker.
So, we'll see if a play-date ever happens.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Thursday, May 09, 2013
Sunday, May 05, 2013
Friday, May 03, 2013
Thursday, May 02, 2013
Success!
They said she ate all her lunch, but I don't really buy it. However, I'm long past the need to worry that she's starving.
I think she's a thief though. She came home from school with about 6 tiny rocks in her pocket. We are storing them in our own rock garden for later. Today... her outfit has no pockets. Bwahahaha.
The new arrival into the classroom means potty training has officially begun. We were asked to swap out her little person diapers for pull-ups. They will practice sitting on the mini-potty at school at least three times a day. At home we will support the program with potty time before bed and first thing in the morning.
I bought all these books about potty training and now I think I'm just going to go with the flow (bad pun). At home we have what I call 'donuts' as they remind me of the squishy things my grandpa used for his bum, but it sits on the seat of the loo and makes a smaller seat for the toddler bum. Lucy seems to like them and they are great for training. However, once she gets the hang of this new concept we'll have to do some practice on our loo without the donut so that it isn't traumatic when we're out in public and have to just go.
See, with every new skill things get a bit more complicated. My mom says that when Lucy is fully potty trained then she will take her camping - alone. Boy oh boy, would I love to see that. I think we'll be waiting until Lucy is at least 4 and has a fighting chance of not playing with the fire pit.
The weather is warming up and tonight after school we will be in the back yard again with the bubble machine and the new water table. There is a 90% chance of cousin JoJo dropping by, so it could be a wonderful evening.
My $10 bubble machine from Safeway had it's initial outing last night, but it's not a quality product as it stopped producing bubbles after it was attacked by an excited 2 year old monster. Hopefully it rested well and will be up for an evening of entertainment tonight.
* I was incorrect with the name of her class. It is not Early Beginners.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Graduation!
We had a fine ending to our day yesterday. She enjoyed a bath, watched a 15 minute snip of Curious George and then read books with Dad and off to bed.
The day care sent home a letter last night that said that all kids who are expecting classroom changes will do those changes on June 21. Oh, I was not a happy mommy regarding this news.
Lucy is currently in the "toddler" room and that room is designed for kids 12 - 24 months. The next classroom "Early Beginners" is for kids 2-3 years old. The activities are far more group oriented and a stronger mix of education and play vs. just play. We've been anxious for Lucy to move on up, but understood that there needed to be availability. I did hear through the grapevine that 2 kids were leaving and therefore I was irritated that we would have to wait another two months.
However, today Miss Martha informed me that Lucy will start her transition TODAY. She'll be spending time in the EB and on Monday she'll be in that room full time.
I'm thankful for this change. Lucy has friends in the new classroom and I expect that her language skills will expand within weeks. I'm also thankful that I'm not traveling this week or next. It will be good to have Mom home during this transition time.
I doubt there will be a ceremony with a cap and gown, but when we moved from the Infant room she got a certificate. OOh... a certificate.
Monday, April 29, 2013
Oh no!!!
Tonight looked to be really iffy in the "serene family" category. Lucy refused to get out of the car after Dad picked her up from school. After a small melt down over the horrible disappointment of not being offered a cookie right before dinner a larger and far more epic meltdown occurred when we meanly put water in Lucy's water sippy cup. We are ASSHOLES!!!
Miss Nude 2013 did a marvelous version of Meg Tily in Agnes of God, but without the blood. She has the face down, crucifix position down pat.
She allowed herself to be sat in the high chair for dinner, but the wailing continued. She needs to work on her strategy tho... Lucy held her ground solidly when Dad asked her if she wanted cheese on her noodles. "No Daddy!!! Waaaaa". But, when I followed behind (unknowingly) offering her cheese in her noodles she uttered a pathetic and slightly thankful "yes pease".
She kept up her wailing for a good ten minutes into our family dinner. Then, as if she forgot why she wad pissed she smiled and ate her dinner and even got the elusive cookie from earlier.
Now we're about to have a bath and an earlier than normal bedtime. I think maybe its Monday.
Miss Nude 2013 did a marvelous version of Meg Tily in Agnes of God, but without the blood. She has the face down, crucifix position down pat.
She allowed herself to be sat in the high chair for dinner, but the wailing continued. She needs to work on her strategy tho... Lucy held her ground solidly when Dad asked her if she wanted cheese on her noodles. "No Daddy!!! Waaaaa". But, when I followed behind (unknowingly) offering her cheese in her noodles she uttered a pathetic and slightly thankful "yes pease".
She kept up her wailing for a good ten minutes into our family dinner. Then, as if she forgot why she wad pissed she smiled and ate her dinner and even got the elusive cookie from earlier.
Now we're about to have a bath and an earlier than normal bedtime. I think maybe its Monday.
Yard
We made some changes to our tiny back yard.
We had a small raised flower bed put in along the back fence. We also had our man (the name my grandfather used for his contractor) add gravel along the south side between us and the neighbors. Joseph put in boards along the fence line to keep the gravel from migrating to the neighbors. As it was all the original decorative rock has moved south (as their yard is lower in elevation than ours.
We had a small raised flower bed put in along the back fence. We also had our man (the name my grandfather used for his contractor) add gravel along the south side between us and the neighbors. Joseph put in boards along the fence line to keep the gravel from migrating to the neighbors. As it was all the original decorative rock has moved south (as their yard is lower in elevation than ours.
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| before (north) |
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| Before, south) |
We had the patio expanded the summer we were pregnant with Lucy, and we asked Joseph to add gravel to the side where the grass simply wouldn't thrive. He also had to patch a section where the yard took a beating during the construction of our flower bed.  |
| after, south |
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| North side, just storage, pavers by TP |
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| North, yard |
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| plants! |
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| annuals to fill out the new perennials |
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| The bed under the window. |
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| A Panorama |
Thursday, April 11, 2013
I miss you too!
The full time job thing, the mom thing, the wife thing and the trying to be a good person thing sure gets in the way of having time to humorously snark about life on this blog. I do miss it and there are moments when I think, oh I wish I could capture that moment and blog about it. Here's the summary of happenings:
Our 2 year old is acting her age. She is happy in the morning, likes to come into our room and snuggle before we get moving. She prefers to hang with me but will give Jason some loving and if I'm not home he is perfectly perfect to cozy up to while she wakes up. I think it's sweet that she will nestle in close to my side and root around to find my arm and make sure that I'm hugging her. It is less sweet that she doesn't let Jason cozy in. I mean, if his hand wanders over to give either of us a loving pat on the arm, she takes his hand and pushes it away. He does a pretty good job of not getting his feelings hurt and I remind her that he was my boyfriend first. She also has to endure kisses between mom & dad. (Nothing X rated, but I think it's important that she sees that Mommy loves Daddy too.)
Getting dressed for school is usually a mini-battle. I can see that she doesn't want to go to school, but once we're on our way she's happy as a lark. She likes her friends, she likes the art activities and when they get to play outside (which is any day that it isn't raining) she comes home super tired. Now that she's two she's allowed to go over onto the big play equipment and I know she's digging that.
When she's super tired after school it is a challenge to get through dinner. She likes to pull up her step-stool and hang out in the kitchen while we cook. I let her "help" and that can be as easy as her directing where to put the bowls and which egg to crack or counting (to two) the number it items we'll be using. Sometimes she gets her own bowls and a few fish crackers to sort while I do chopping. When it comes time to use the stove we use the power of two parents to divide and conquer. One parent goes with Shorty to her play kitchen while the other messes with the real kitchen.
Dinners are hit and miss. Sometimes she eats and sits at the table like a champ, and others she's too busy, tired or bored to play nice. When we make a real dinner, she eats what we eat and other dinner options aren't offered. However, like last night where she made a wonderful dent in her chicken stir fry she was offered a yogurt. I know she wont starve to death on the nights where she doesn't eat, but I'm happier when she eats.
We are in a state of constant motion from the moment she comes in the door until she's in bed. Thankfully, that is still pretty early. Eight p.m. is the magic moment of her door closing and we get to high five each other and go do adult things. Last night, "adult things" was to really clean the kitchen floor and then watch Survivor. I know, I know, too much sexy.
In other parts of our life, we have some friends who are going through a terrible trauma. Our job is really to be supportive. A group of gals took a day to go see them (they are in an out of town hospital) and it was an experience I'll probably remember my whole life. I tend to hide in my cave when things are really bad and I find it hard to allow people, even those I care about and trust into that vulnerable space. Well, my friend is in that cave and she generously opened up and let us in. We all walked away feeling hung over and emotionally spent, but I hoped that we were sponges and wicked some of her pain, anger, hurt, fear, disappointment, and every other emotion she's going through. I know that the four of us can't possibly take all of it away, but maybe for that day it lightened her load a bit. Also, I think that being a part of the beginning of this journey she's on will help smooth the way to be able to support her in the long run. Instead of being filled with "oh what should I say, what should I do?" Now I know what she wants and it is something I absolutely have to give. How strange is it that the simple answer to the question of what to do for people in pain is: "love me like you did before."
Part of our visit involved getting her into a safe space where she could say all the things you're not supposed to say when going through something really hard. I think if you're in the midst of hell you get to say what you want about your own fears, pain, anger or whatever and your people are required to let it bounce off. I do think it's important to know when this 'say what you need to' is appropriate. It was clear to me that I had no advice to give, all I had was a kind ear and the occasional agreement that some of the "go to" things that people say to be helpful simply aren't. Things like:
1) God has a plan.
2) God won't give you more than you can handle.
3) Doctors can be wrong, everything will be just fine.
4) Don't give up hope.
5) Have you tried to do XXXX?
1& 2: The God business is rough. I believe in God, albeit not in the ghostly white ball of light way, but in the there can be beauty in all things way. I don't think God takes time to decide when we're going to get cancer or hit by a drunk driver or die of old age. I think God is in the people who come to our aid and comfort us in those dark times. God is part of the "I guess I'll take one more step" spunk that some of us pull from nowhere. I call it God, you may call it something else and that's fine. But, damn it, don't use God to explain away the dark, terrible things that happen. These things are part of life and we will all go through death in one way or another. Sure, we may grow from these experiences and be a different person or maybe even happy on the other side, but pick your moment to talk about God when dealing with folks who have to remember to breathe from second to second. With that said, please pray like crazy for your friends if that's your thing. They may not believe in it, but if you do - send those good intentions into the world. It can't hurt.
3: Doctors can be wrong. Indeed, but you my friend are not a doctor. If a diagnosis is from a real, honest to betsy, knows how to bill insurance doctor, then shaddup about the Neurosurgeon being wrong. Chances are, by the time your friend tells you what the doctor has said they've seen a couple doctors.
4: Don't give up hope. This seems harmless, but to some folks, hope is risky. Hope can open you up to more pain. Again, this is all about knowing your audience. For some, expecting the worst is a way of protecting their hearts. My friend said this exact thing, and I told her that I would do the hoping for her. Someone needs to hope and if you don't have it, I'll do it!
5: Have you tried XXX? See #3. All experiences are different and the all fruit diet that Aunt Mertha used to clear up her pancreatic cancer may not be the best option for me. One of the things that I think is the most scary about dealing with something like cancer is that there isn't a map. First you'll go here for 3 weeks, then here for 2 months, then we'll do this. It's pretty much different for each person. If you have a good doctor referral, give it up. Other than that just, listen listen listen then listen some more.
In the end, even those folks who say the wrong thing (often that's me) only mean well and are trying their best. It's important to remember that when reacting to the oddball things that are said. Now, if someone suggests that it is your own fault that terrible thing X happened to you, you're allowed to pop them in the nose. Clarification: if you're about to get a Darwin Award then it may be your own fault and hold the nose popping for further analysis.
So, I'm filled with perspective this week. I'm over the moon happy with my life these days and yet that real world stuff oozes in. I suppose this is real life. Oh how I'd like to punch it in the throat every now and then.
Our 2 year old is acting her age. She is happy in the morning, likes to come into our room and snuggle before we get moving. She prefers to hang with me but will give Jason some loving and if I'm not home he is perfectly perfect to cozy up to while she wakes up. I think it's sweet that she will nestle in close to my side and root around to find my arm and make sure that I'm hugging her. It is less sweet that she doesn't let Jason cozy in. I mean, if his hand wanders over to give either of us a loving pat on the arm, she takes his hand and pushes it away. He does a pretty good job of not getting his feelings hurt and I remind her that he was my boyfriend first. She also has to endure kisses between mom & dad. (Nothing X rated, but I think it's important that she sees that Mommy loves Daddy too.)
Getting dressed for school is usually a mini-battle. I can see that she doesn't want to go to school, but once we're on our way she's happy as a lark. She likes her friends, she likes the art activities and when they get to play outside (which is any day that it isn't raining) she comes home super tired. Now that she's two she's allowed to go over onto the big play equipment and I know she's digging that.
When she's super tired after school it is a challenge to get through dinner. She likes to pull up her step-stool and hang out in the kitchen while we cook. I let her "help" and that can be as easy as her directing where to put the bowls and which egg to crack or counting (to two) the number it items we'll be using. Sometimes she gets her own bowls and a few fish crackers to sort while I do chopping. When it comes time to use the stove we use the power of two parents to divide and conquer. One parent goes with Shorty to her play kitchen while the other messes with the real kitchen.
Dinners are hit and miss. Sometimes she eats and sits at the table like a champ, and others she's too busy, tired or bored to play nice. When we make a real dinner, she eats what we eat and other dinner options aren't offered. However, like last night where she made a wonderful dent in her chicken stir fry she was offered a yogurt. I know she wont starve to death on the nights where she doesn't eat, but I'm happier when she eats.
We are in a state of constant motion from the moment she comes in the door until she's in bed. Thankfully, that is still pretty early. Eight p.m. is the magic moment of her door closing and we get to high five each other and go do adult things. Last night, "adult things" was to really clean the kitchen floor and then watch Survivor. I know, I know, too much sexy.
In other parts of our life, we have some friends who are going through a terrible trauma. Our job is really to be supportive. A group of gals took a day to go see them (they are in an out of town hospital) and it was an experience I'll probably remember my whole life. I tend to hide in my cave when things are really bad and I find it hard to allow people, even those I care about and trust into that vulnerable space. Well, my friend is in that cave and she generously opened up and let us in. We all walked away feeling hung over and emotionally spent, but I hoped that we were sponges and wicked some of her pain, anger, hurt, fear, disappointment, and every other emotion she's going through. I know that the four of us can't possibly take all of it away, but maybe for that day it lightened her load a bit. Also, I think that being a part of the beginning of this journey she's on will help smooth the way to be able to support her in the long run. Instead of being filled with "oh what should I say, what should I do?" Now I know what she wants and it is something I absolutely have to give. How strange is it that the simple answer to the question of what to do for people in pain is: "love me like you did before."
Part of our visit involved getting her into a safe space where she could say all the things you're not supposed to say when going through something really hard. I think if you're in the midst of hell you get to say what you want about your own fears, pain, anger or whatever and your people are required to let it bounce off. I do think it's important to know when this 'say what you need to' is appropriate. It was clear to me that I had no advice to give, all I had was a kind ear and the occasional agreement that some of the "go to" things that people say to be helpful simply aren't. Things like:
1) God has a plan.
2) God won't give you more than you can handle.
3) Doctors can be wrong, everything will be just fine.
4) Don't give up hope.
5) Have you tried to do XXXX?
1& 2: The God business is rough. I believe in God, albeit not in the ghostly white ball of light way, but in the there can be beauty in all things way. I don't think God takes time to decide when we're going to get cancer or hit by a drunk driver or die of old age. I think God is in the people who come to our aid and comfort us in those dark times. God is part of the "I guess I'll take one more step" spunk that some of us pull from nowhere. I call it God, you may call it something else and that's fine. But, damn it, don't use God to explain away the dark, terrible things that happen. These things are part of life and we will all go through death in one way or another. Sure, we may grow from these experiences and be a different person or maybe even happy on the other side, but pick your moment to talk about God when dealing with folks who have to remember to breathe from second to second. With that said, please pray like crazy for your friends if that's your thing. They may not believe in it, but if you do - send those good intentions into the world. It can't hurt.
3: Doctors can be wrong. Indeed, but you my friend are not a doctor. If a diagnosis is from a real, honest to betsy, knows how to bill insurance doctor, then shaddup about the Neurosurgeon being wrong. Chances are, by the time your friend tells you what the doctor has said they've seen a couple doctors.
4: Don't give up hope. This seems harmless, but to some folks, hope is risky. Hope can open you up to more pain. Again, this is all about knowing your audience. For some, expecting the worst is a way of protecting their hearts. My friend said this exact thing, and I told her that I would do the hoping for her. Someone needs to hope and if you don't have it, I'll do it!
5: Have you tried XXX? See #3. All experiences are different and the all fruit diet that Aunt Mertha used to clear up her pancreatic cancer may not be the best option for me. One of the things that I think is the most scary about dealing with something like cancer is that there isn't a map. First you'll go here for 3 weeks, then here for 2 months, then we'll do this. It's pretty much different for each person. If you have a good doctor referral, give it up. Other than that just, listen listen listen then listen some more.
In the end, even those folks who say the wrong thing (often that's me) only mean well and are trying their best. It's important to remember that when reacting to the oddball things that are said. Now, if someone suggests that it is your own fault that terrible thing X happened to you, you're allowed to pop them in the nose. Clarification: if you're about to get a Darwin Award then it may be your own fault and hold the nose popping for further analysis.
So, I'm filled with perspective this week. I'm over the moon happy with my life these days and yet that real world stuff oozes in. I suppose this is real life. Oh how I'd like to punch it in the throat every now and then.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
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