Zachy is sick. It's one of those poor pitiful things in life that happen to the helpless. Poor little creature. He has an ear infection and a virus, besides cutting his four top front teeth at once. Sometimes people say, "That's the life," about babies, but this is one thing I don't envy at all. I don't envy me, either.
One trick we've used to get his meds down his little gullet is that I stick my finger between his gums and push his tongue slightly to the side, while squeezing a very small amount at a time into the back inside of his cheek on the other side. That way, he doesn't spit the medicine out, because his tongue can't make perfect contact with the roof of his mouth. The medicine runs down, and he swallows it! But he doesn't like it very much.
Sometimes we mommies have to be tough. It's really not fair, because all we want to do is just hold them and love on them, and it seems like we get all the hard jobs like making them take medicine, or potty training, or making them clean their room when they're older.
So, I'm done venting. Time for some Tylenol...here we go again!
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Phone Syndrome
My kids have a serious affliction. It's the Phone Syndrome. No, really. Every time I get on the phone, loud noises erupt from their mouths. It's amazing.
I can be in the opposite end of the house, and as soon as I hit "send", they come screaming through, noise blazing. And they usually have a problem that refuses to go away with a simple, "Go to your room and be quiet, because I'm on the phone." It's a code red emergency, something I have to arbitrate with the wisdom of Solomon and the patience of Job.
In the van, why do I continue to call my husband? I know I'm going to get interrupted. "Get off my arm rest!" "My arm is tired!" "Mom, he won't get off my seat." "Well, you're on my side of the seat." "I am not".... and on it goes. But, the Eternal Optimist part of my brain never seems to learn.
It's on those days that I really wish I had one of those thingies limo drivers have. One push of the button, and it's peace and quiet....Ah......The wall goes up, the noise goes down, and I'd probably enjoy it so much I would forget all about making that call.
I can be in the opposite end of the house, and as soon as I hit "send", they come screaming through, noise blazing. And they usually have a problem that refuses to go away with a simple, "Go to your room and be quiet, because I'm on the phone." It's a code red emergency, something I have to arbitrate with the wisdom of Solomon and the patience of Job.
In the van, why do I continue to call my husband? I know I'm going to get interrupted. "Get off my arm rest!" "My arm is tired!" "Mom, he won't get off my seat." "Well, you're on my side of the seat." "I am not".... and on it goes. But, the Eternal Optimist part of my brain never seems to learn.
It's on those days that I really wish I had one of those thingies limo drivers have. One push of the button, and it's peace and quiet....Ah......The wall goes up, the noise goes down, and I'd probably enjoy it so much I would forget all about making that call.
That Look
Have you ever given in to manipulation? Knowingly, you recognize that you are being manipulated and you decide you will allow it? I confess, I have this malady. You can see why.
Yes, I pick him up. Or crawl in the floor to play with him. Or give him a sip out of my cup of water. Or let him yank on my hair.
It's that look that says, "Mommy, I'm way too precious to resist, so you might as well give up now!" Or even, the look that says, "I've got you where I want you, and you know it and I know it." Or maybe the smile that says, "Am I cute enough now that you'll do what I want?"
On the other hand, this could be just a simple act of devastation. No manipulation, just straight up adorability in action. Yep, I think that's it. And guess what? I'm totally okay with that.
So, all you disadvantaged moms, take heart. You're not alone! Yes, your heart will continue to walk around outside your body, but the good news is...we wouldn't change it for the world!
Yes, I pick him up. Or crawl in the floor to play with him. Or give him a sip out of my cup of water. Or let him yank on my hair.It's that look that says, "Mommy, I'm way too precious to resist, so you might as well give up now!" Or even, the look that says, "I've got you where I want you, and you know it and I know it." Or maybe the smile that says, "Am I cute enough now that you'll do what I want?"
On the other hand, this could be just a simple act of devastation. No manipulation, just straight up adorability in action. Yep, I think that's it. And guess what? I'm totally okay with that.
So, all you disadvantaged moms, take heart. You're not alone! Yes, your heart will continue to walk around outside your body, but the good news is...we wouldn't change it for the world!
Solomon
The shrieks have me running. "Mommy, Moooooom! Jonathan pushed me!"
"She took my stuff!"
"I did not! It's mine!"
"No, it's not! It's mine!" he insists.
"I had it first!"
At this point, all I want is for them to stop with the arguing, and especially to tone down the decibles pounding through my brain. "OK! That's enough. What toy are we talking about?"
"She took my Percy!" Jonathan is not happy, since Percy happens to be his favorite train.
"I had it first. You weren't playing with it," Brianna insists.
I have to step in here. "Jonathan, even though the toy is yours, you may not push people when they make you mad. What's the rule?"
"Walk away and tell a grown-up," he grouches. "But I was going to play with that."
"I have a lovely idea," I reply. "How about if I cut Percy in half and you can each play with a piece of him?"
Their answer is loud, pained, and very negative.
"The only other two options I see are to take turns, or I can take Percy and put him in time out for awhile, until you learn to be nice with your toys." They mutually agree to take turns, and run off to play...nicely.
Nobody ever told me that sometimes I would have to have the wisdom of Solomon.
"She took my stuff!"
"I did not! It's mine!"
"No, it's not! It's mine!" he insists.
"I had it first!"
At this point, all I want is for them to stop with the arguing, and especially to tone down the decibles pounding through my brain. "OK! That's enough. What toy are we talking about?"
"She took my Percy!" Jonathan is not happy, since Percy happens to be his favorite train.
"I had it first. You weren't playing with it," Brianna insists.
I have to step in here. "Jonathan, even though the toy is yours, you may not push people when they make you mad. What's the rule?"
"Walk away and tell a grown-up," he grouches. "But I was going to play with that."
"I have a lovely idea," I reply. "How about if I cut Percy in half and you can each play with a piece of him?"
Their answer is loud, pained, and very negative.
"The only other two options I see are to take turns, or I can take Percy and put him in time out for awhile, until you learn to be nice with your toys." They mutually agree to take turns, and run off to play...nicely.
Nobody ever told me that sometimes I would have to have the wisdom of Solomon.
Applesauce Torque
Can someone explain to me why the makers of applesauce decided to put 200 lbs of torque on their jars? I mean, really! You'd think it was a hazardous waste material that will spread evil toxins all over creation, instead of the applesauce jar.
There are many other instances of this, as well. The mayonnaise, the apple juice, the BBQ sauce. Even the peanut butter. All very harmful, dangerous substances.
I think it's a male conspiracy. "Honey, will you open this jar of ... for me?" Now, keep in mind, I've done everything I can to open this jar. I've beat it with the other end of a butter knife. I've strained, and used my t-shirt around my hand, and even dug that little rubber grippy thing out of the back of the drawer and tried that.
Enter big male person, chest puffed out just slightly, feeling oh-so-necessary. POP! The lid comes right off. "Thank you, honey," I say, and he struts back out of the kitchen with a "Sure, no problem."
Yes, I admit. I'm thinking to myself, "I just got it loose for you. Next time, I won't give up too soon." But then, considering it's a conspiracy and all, they probably have it figured to just the point that my patience runs out.
So, knowing it's a conspiracy, regardless of all my brilliant deduction, I'll just do the same thing the next time (which is what makes it funny in the first place). And we all know why. It's that puffed out chest, and that strut as he leaves the room. Yes, he has a cute tushy when he's strutting. I guess that's why I've decided to let this conspiracy continue. On the other hand, we need to have a candid talk about high heels.
There are many other instances of this, as well. The mayonnaise, the apple juice, the BBQ sauce. Even the peanut butter. All very harmful, dangerous substances.
I think it's a male conspiracy. "Honey, will you open this jar of ... for me?" Now, keep in mind, I've done everything I can to open this jar. I've beat it with the other end of a butter knife. I've strained, and used my t-shirt around my hand, and even dug that little rubber grippy thing out of the back of the drawer and tried that.
Enter big male person, chest puffed out just slightly, feeling oh-so-necessary. POP! The lid comes right off. "Thank you, honey," I say, and he struts back out of the kitchen with a "Sure, no problem."
Yes, I admit. I'm thinking to myself, "I just got it loose for you. Next time, I won't give up too soon." But then, considering it's a conspiracy and all, they probably have it figured to just the point that my patience runs out.
So, knowing it's a conspiracy, regardless of all my brilliant deduction, I'll just do the same thing the next time (which is what makes it funny in the first place). And we all know why. It's that puffed out chest, and that strut as he leaves the room. Yes, he has a cute tushy when he's strutting. I guess that's why I've decided to let this conspiracy continue. On the other hand, we need to have a candid talk about high heels.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
You Know You're A Mom When...
You know you're a mom when you find yourself actually staring sightlessly at Miss Spider, pathetically resigned to your fate. It's only after you've watched the show to the last 5 minutes that you realize you've been zoning out to kid TV. There are no kids around, just you collapsed on the couch, wasting an hour of time you wish had been spent ... oh, at a spa, or some other lovely passtime.
You know you're a mom when your friend you finally went to lunch with on Saturday points out that you've got crud on your blouse. It's not in an inconspicuous place, either. It's conveniently, and for all to see, perched on that which happens once you start nursing children. And you're not dismayed. You take it in stride, refusing to worry about it, and reply, "Yea, the kids got me before I left the house."
You know you're a mom when what you do for fun on Friday night is ... go to bed.
You know you're a mom when you catch yourself saying, "Um-hm, yea, uh-huh, if you say so," and look up to see your husband staring at you funny.
You know you're a mom when the highlight of your day is a picture of an unrecognizable bobble head stick person holding the claw of a smaller unrecognizable bobble head stick person with a green heart, and a beautiful pink sun shining down on them, delivered with a sloppy kiss, and told, "Mommy, this is you (the one with blue hair) and this is me (the one with pink hair). It's for you!" and all you can do is smile, hang it on your fridge with pride, and hug and kiss the little delivery person/artist, genuinely stating, "It's beautiful, sweetheart. Thank you so much!"
You know you're a mom when your friend you finally went to lunch with on Saturday points out that you've got crud on your blouse. It's not in an inconspicuous place, either. It's conveniently, and for all to see, perched on that which happens once you start nursing children. And you're not dismayed. You take it in stride, refusing to worry about it, and reply, "Yea, the kids got me before I left the house."
You know you're a mom when what you do for fun on Friday night is ... go to bed.
You know you're a mom when you catch yourself saying, "Um-hm, yea, uh-huh, if you say so," and look up to see your husband staring at you funny.
You know you're a mom when the highlight of your day is a picture of an unrecognizable bobble head stick person holding the claw of a smaller unrecognizable bobble head stick person with a green heart, and a beautiful pink sun shining down on them, delivered with a sloppy kiss, and told, "Mommy, this is you (the one with blue hair) and this is me (the one with pink hair). It's for you!" and all you can do is smile, hang it on your fridge with pride, and hug and kiss the little delivery person/artist, genuinely stating, "It's beautiful, sweetheart. Thank you so much!"
Trampoline Tummy
Chloe is Brianna's little BFF. They are five, female, and fabulous, going on fifteen. Until...
Chloe runs into the room, crying. "Brianna jumped on me while I was laying on the floor, and it hurt me!"
Brianna comes in behind her, redfaced. "I didn't know it would hurt her. I'm sorry!"
I look at my daughter. "Would you like me to jump on you and see if it hurts?"
"No, " she wisely chooses.
"Why did you think it was okay to jump on your friend? You know we aren't allowed to act like that."
At this point, I'm embarrassed that my daughter would jump on her friend, and I'm a little shocked that my sweet little girl was in the other room jumping people. This really isn't typical behavior for her.
To which she replies, in front of Chloe's mom, with genuine consternation, "But Mom, it didn't hurt her the first time I jumped on her!"
It's one of the few times I've been speechless in my life. I found myself thinking, "So you were just going to keep on trying until you hurt somebody?" What do you say? She apologized, and was sent to time out, but the point remains: we have some character development to work on...mainly, saving the jumping for trampolines. And for those of you who have ever been embarrassed when your children do strange things in public, know that you are not alone. And by way of encouragement, it's probably not the last time something like this will happen... Oh bother. Pass the honey...er, chocolate.
Chloe runs into the room, crying. "Brianna jumped on me while I was laying on the floor, and it hurt me!"
Brianna comes in behind her, redfaced. "I didn't know it would hurt her. I'm sorry!"
I look at my daughter. "Would you like me to jump on you and see if it hurts?"
"No, " she wisely chooses.
"Why did you think it was okay to jump on your friend? You know we aren't allowed to act like that."
At this point, I'm embarrassed that my daughter would jump on her friend, and I'm a little shocked that my sweet little girl was in the other room jumping people. This really isn't typical behavior for her.
To which she replies, in front of Chloe's mom, with genuine consternation, "But Mom, it didn't hurt her the first time I jumped on her!"
It's one of the few times I've been speechless in my life. I found myself thinking, "So you were just going to keep on trying until you hurt somebody?" What do you say? She apologized, and was sent to time out, but the point remains: we have some character development to work on...mainly, saving the jumping for trampolines. And for those of you who have ever been embarrassed when your children do strange things in public, know that you are not alone. And by way of encouragement, it's probably not the last time something like this will happen... Oh bother. Pass the honey...er, chocolate.
Sound Proof
Why do little girls scream? I think it's an inherent gene of small females. Any excuse will do. It could be something as serious as older brother punching her, or it could be the fact that she's been stuck in the van for several hours and feels she's entitled to a little noise making. Whatever the case, it's a given.
I think if I had a nickel for every time I said, "Settle down, Brianna," or "No screaming in the house," or the classic, "Use your inside voice," I would be a very rich mom. I could probably afford a sound-proof room for her. Or me!
I think if I had a nickel for every time I said, "Settle down, Brianna," or "No screaming in the house," or the classic, "Use your inside voice," I would be a very rich mom. I could probably afford a sound-proof room for her. Or me!
Morning Love
One of the most wonderful things about being a mommy is hugs in the morning. At least, it is for me. Too bad the feeling isn't mutual. Maybe it's just me, but I'm pretty groggy in the morning. Brianna comes creeping in, sees that I'm awake, and comes over to the side of the bed. Even though she knows I'm going to reach for a hug from her, still she comes. She smiles, her rosy, sleepy cheeks glowing in the morning light. We hug each other, and I smile, saying, "Good morning, sweetie. Did you have a good sleep?" To which she lovingly replies, "Mommy, you stink."
I worked on that bad breath all night, thank you. Of course it stinks. Even Julia Roberts' breath stinks in the morning. (sorry, Julia!) Do I have a sprout in the side of my cheek that's mint flavored? Nope.
I think I will never be as honest as I was at 5.
I worked on that bad breath all night, thank you. Of course it stinks. Even Julia Roberts' breath stinks in the morning. (sorry, Julia!) Do I have a sprout in the side of my cheek that's mint flavored? Nope.
I think I will never be as honest as I was at 5.
Wet, What?!
Why is it that babies wait until you lay them down on the clean sheets on your bed, because you want them somewhere soft, and you're taking precautions for your dry-clean-only comforter, and all you wanted was to laugh with them and examine their toes and let them grab your hair.... and BOOM! All that pee they saved up just for your clean sheets is let loose. It's like they KNOW. What is that?
You've got a puddle the size of, well...whatever the last three feedings have been, in the middle of your nice clean bed. It's not enough that you have to scrub crusted baby food off the clothes, bibs, and baby. He's now attacking the sheets. The sleep I was going to get this afternoon will have to wait so I can strip the bed and change the sheets - while he sleeps in blissful happiness. Maybe next time, I'll remember the little waterproof things, and actually use one.
You've got a puddle the size of, well...whatever the last three feedings have been, in the middle of your nice clean bed. It's not enough that you have to scrub crusted baby food off the clothes, bibs, and baby. He's now attacking the sheets. The sleep I was going to get this afternoon will have to wait so I can strip the bed and change the sheets - while he sleeps in blissful happiness. Maybe next time, I'll remember the little waterproof things, and actually use one.
Momma Logue
How fun is this?? Having recently learned about blogs (yea, I've been busy having kids and all), it has just stunned me that I can go online and VENT, and someone will actually want to read it. And - maybe my kids can read it someday. Then they'll really be embarrassed, but anyway!
Hopefully, this blog will be a happy place to monologue about the fun we moms have with our sweet little people. I have 3 kids...Jonathan is 7, Brianna is 5, and Zachary is 8 months. So...I've got a little logging (ahem, blogging) to do! And hey...maybe my folks will have something to read instead of me trying to think of all the fun things I never remember on the phone. =)
When we had Zachy, it felt like I was a new mom again. But busier...with the other two older ones, it was a little more crazy. And he was so small!! 7.5 lbs seems small to me, anyway, and somehow I had forgotten what to do with babies. I admit, I panicked a little. But, it's all good. It came back to me, but it sure got me thinking. I know other moms probably didn't remember or know in the first place what in the world to do with this sweet little (very, very little) person. So, for those of you in that predicament, feel free to check out my new site to help you out! I hope to keep adding to it, and hopefully do some good! http://www.aboutbabyonline.net/ And that's all I'll say about that, for now!
So, here are the kids:
Jonathan is seven. He loves anything to do with racing, and he's very competitive. He also hates haircuts...which I've spoiled him with a little bit.
He also loves mazes, and can design his own, and he loves to build race tracks, too. He's a good little guy, very helpful, and he's growing SO FAST.
His favorite color is green, and he loves math. He's the best big brother I could ask for to the younger children, too. He's great with Zachary, and helps me keep him entertained sometimes when I need to do dishes or cook.
Meet our five-year-old, Brianna Joy. She is such a sweetie-pie. She loves anything to do with animals. She is my little budding geologist, and it's a miracle there is any gravel left in our church parking lot, because she likes to examine the rocks and make piles of them, color them, and even steal them...we confess!
She is a great dancer, and she makes up her own songs. She loves to create mail - she'll draw pictures and scribble a story or letter, and then put it in an envelope and hand-deliver it with pride. What a sweet, happy girl!
Zachary is the sweetest baby I've ever met! He's so happy most of the time, and is very busy. He makes friends very easily and loves his glow worm. He especially loves to play peek-a-boo with his older siblings.
He's got two teeth, and he's really trying to crawl. At this point, though, he'd rather roll, or flirt enough/fuss enough, whichever one works, to get where he's going. What a sweet little dumpling!
And that's my crew! We have lots of fun times, even though most of the time, I'm really outnumbered. I've always wondered why God gave the octopus 8 arms, and moms only got 2. I guess I'll have to ask Him someday! In the meantime, I better run! Looks like they figured out I'm on the computer.
Hopefully, this blog will be a happy place to monologue about the fun we moms have with our sweet little people. I have 3 kids...Jonathan is 7, Brianna is 5, and Zachary is 8 months. So...I've got a little logging (ahem, blogging) to do! And hey...maybe my folks will have something to read instead of me trying to think of all the fun things I never remember on the phone. =)
When we had Zachy, it felt like I was a new mom again. But busier...with the other two older ones, it was a little more crazy. And he was so small!! 7.5 lbs seems small to me, anyway, and somehow I had forgotten what to do with babies. I admit, I panicked a little. But, it's all good. It came back to me, but it sure got me thinking. I know other moms probably didn't remember or know in the first place what in the world to do with this sweet little (very, very little) person. So, for those of you in that predicament, feel free to check out my new site to help you out! I hope to keep adding to it, and hopefully do some good! http://www.aboutbabyonline.net/ And that's all I'll say about that, for now!
So, here are the kids:
Jonathan is seven. He loves anything to do with racing, and he's very competitive. He also hates haircuts...which I've spoiled him with a little bit.He also loves mazes, and can design his own, and he loves to build race tracks, too. He's a good little guy, very helpful, and he's growing SO FAST.
His favorite color is green, and he loves math. He's the best big brother I could ask for to the younger children, too. He's great with Zachary, and helps me keep him entertained sometimes when I need to do dishes or cook.
Meet our five-year-old, Brianna Joy. She is such a sweetie-pie. She loves anything to do with animals. She is my little budding geologist, and it's a miracle there is any gravel left in our church parking lot, because she likes to examine the rocks and make piles of them, color them, and even steal them...we confess!She is a great dancer, and she makes up her own songs. She loves to create mail - she'll draw pictures and scribble a story or letter, and then put it in an envelope and hand-deliver it with pride. What a sweet, happy girl!
Zachary is the sweetest baby I've ever met! He's so happy most of the time, and is very busy. He makes friends very easily and loves his glow worm. He especially loves to play peek-a-boo with his older siblings.
He's got two teeth, and he's really trying to crawl. At this point, though, he'd rather roll, or flirt enough/fuss enough, whichever one works, to get where he's going. What a sweet little dumpling!
And that's my crew! We have lots of fun times, even though most of the time, I'm really outnumbered. I've always wondered why God gave the octopus 8 arms, and moms only got 2. I guess I'll have to ask Him someday! In the meantime, I better run! Looks like they figured out I'm on the computer.
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