Oldest

Something is going on with Oldest. Since Thursday last she has had four episodes, for lack of a better term, the fourth occurring today at school.

Last Thursday it happened while at the doctor's office. She asked me what a picture was on the wall. After I examined the picture and turned back to explain to her that it was a cartoon of a germ, she was face down on the exam table with her face buried in her hands. She was hysterical and refused to open her eyes or let me put her down. She claimed to be tired. I had to lift her face so the doctor could examine her. I had to carry her out of the building. When I inquired what happened she again said, "I am tired."

Sunday while we were at church waiting for our turn to process to the altar to receive communion she buried her face in my lap, refusing to par take in communion. When I asked her what was wrong her response was, "I am tired. Are we going home now?" There was another parishioner two rows ahead of us with a large port wine stain on her face. Did this cause her discomfort? She wouldn't acknowledge me when I inquired, "I'm tired," she said again.

Last night she told me that she was going upstairs to go potty. Not her usual practice. I scanned the downstairs bathroom looking for offending items and didn't find any. Upon her return downstairs I said, "I know why you like to use the bathroom upstairs, you like the smell of the soap!" When I began my declaration her hands flew up and she stuck her fingers in her ears. When it was time to brush teeth she stood in the doorway of the bathroom. Wanting to see if she would step in further I held her toothbrush so that she would have to come into the bathroom to retrieve it. She retreated to just outside the bathroom and covered her head with her blankie. I scanned the bathroom again and noticed a magazine open to a page with a picture of a dragon fly. I closed the magazine and told her it was all gone. She was happy as a lark.

I picked her up from school today. Usually her teacher stands at the door and lets the kids come out when she sees the parent. Today, however, I noticed she was wearing shorts that she didn't wear to school and her teacher kept on walking. Hmmm. Ms. J reported to me that she had an accident in the bathroom. AND that she really really missed me today. She was hysterical at school tears and all. When asked what was wrong she told her teachers, "I'm tired. I didn't get enough sleep last night. I miss mom." I shared all that I am sharing here with Ms. J. It provided her with some insight but she doesn't know what, if anything, precipitated this episode. She was her usual chatter box on the way to her friends house.

We spent the evening together and she was her usual loving, curious, funny, articulate self. What lies beneath that she can't tell me, I don't know. What does she fear? Can she not express what she fears? Is she afraid that I will belittle her fear? Is she embarrassed of her feelings?

For now we will just watch and wait. We will continue to provide her a safe place for her to share when she is ready and we will comfort her when she is scared.

Well, if y'all say so!

Then "normal" I is! You guys are the best!

So here is a little of my Monday.

1. Scrambled to get out of the door.
2. "Mom, my neck hurts," says oldest on our way to our babysitters. I look in the rear view to see an ominous black "spot." My suspicion? A tick.
3. Pull over in nearest parking lot to inspect said spot. Confirm the tick. Try to remove tick. Oldests neck comes with tick. Get to babysitters FAST. Hysterical Oldest.
4. Barge in and announce the presence of the tick. She grabs the first aid book. Apply Vaseline. Wait for 1 nanosecond. Try to remove. No luck. Oldest is still hysterical. Apply more Vaseline. Wait for 10 nanoseconds. Try to remove. Success!
5. Soothe Oldest, tell her how brave she is.
6. Hug kiss for all and I am out the door.
7. Arrive at work.
8. Computer D.I.E.S while working on pseudo important project.
9. Back to back meetings. Computer is repaired. All work lost.
10. Leave to pick up Oldest at Pre-School. Oldest reports her sheer hatred for babysitter.
11. Drop Oldest off at babysitter.
12. Return to work. More meetings.
13. Headache starts in last meeting.
14. Leave to pick up children with headache. King Daddy is working. Solo parenting. Not looking forward to it.
15. Caller ID reports18 calls in the day. Every single one of them from a bill collector, the same two numbers. Over and over and over again.
16. Grill Cheese for dinner. No one wants it. What is this a friggin' restaurant?
17. Yell at kids. Headache still present.
18. Send Middle to timeout 1 gazillion times.
19. Middle is sent up for the night.
20. Baby picks up where Middle left off.
21. Force Baby into his jammies.
22. Yell at Oldest to get into her own jammies without help. For crying out loud you are FIVE!
23. Brush teeth in shifts.
24. Read books with a going to bed theme.
25. Carry everyone to bed, one in front and one piggy back.
26. Say prayers with Oldest. Ask God to Bless her mommy.
27. Dove on the couch.

So how was your Monday?

Tuesday is better already!

Is it a bad sign?

That it is only Monday and I already can't wait for the weekend???

A new day

always brings new challenges.

Oldest's face was markedly swollen this morning. Back to the doctor we went. More definitive diagnosis of 5ths, not due to the swollen face, however. Not much work happened today as she was with me there.

TGIF!

It is all about the numbers

It seems as though 20 is the new 5. Back in the day when gas was cheap $5 got me far. These days it is a minimum of $20 and when your car is designed to carry more than one, it isn't all that efficient.

Oldest is 5 and has the 5th disease out of the 6 childhood diseases. Nothing to do. But Middle, who is 3.5 has it too.

We will wait for number 3, who is 2, to come down with fifths too.

They have pink cheeks, the so called "slapped cheek" rash which is fifths hallmark. Who knew? When I picked them up tonight Oldest's face was more pink and had grown swollen. We were at the doctor at 6:40. By the time the "slapped cheek" presents, it is no longer contagious. We will look for the lacey rash and hope it is all gone in 3 or 4 days.

The 3 are snuggled in their beds, rash and all, minus 1.

Not much

I am very glad that Deadliest Catch is back on.

Work is killing me!

My kids are funny and a pain at the same time.

Poop still reigns supreme.

HELP!

Even Steven and other notables

We walked out on the porch this morning on our way to the car. It was littered with gray fluffy feathers. This is the conversation that ensued:

QM: "Oldest look at all the feathers on the porch."
Oldest: "What are those from?"
QM: "Well Kitty must have, um, you know."
Oldest: "Oh. Kitty is protecting our worms."
QM: Stifling a laugh, "I guess so."
Oldest: "Kitty is our worm hero."
QM: "Oh yeah our worms are cheering for him," I thought to myself.

This morning we had cereal for breakfast, Crunch Berries a fav of mine. We were slim on milk this morning so I was mildly concerned that we wouldn't have enough for three bowls. But alas my concerns were for naught. Oldest asked for more cereal as after she had eaten her first bowl there was milk left over. Followed by Middle who asked for more as he too had milk left over. And of course, Baby asked for some too, but not because he had more milk, because Middle asked.

I chuckled to myself as I did this when I was little. I am still afflicted, although now I refer to it as the ratio. The ratio only effects me when I am eating cake and ice-cream. It must be bite for bite.

Crappy McCrappy Pants

Is fine. I now expect a brown accident.

But the floor? Yeah, I found poop on the floor in my laundry room. Not fresh.

When I questioned the only offender he admittedly freely that it happened when he was changing his grey underpants. And that King Daddy was fully aware of said accident.

When will it end?

Roaming thoughts

Last night I watched the movie Crash.

If you have not seen it, may I recommend that you do see it. I knew this movie would prohibit sleep. It is an unbelievable movie. Dare I say one of the best movies I have seen in a long, long time. Possibly the best movie I have ever seen. So well done by the writers and producers to the performances by the actors/actresses. It is a truly ugly movie. And just when you think it can't get any uglier, it does. My hand was over my mouth many times, but no tears fell. It was a provocative movie. It makes me ponder my place in the world. It makes me think about race and my perceptions of race in a raw unadulterated way. If you have not seen it, do.

Secondly, Marlee of Marlee's Rant deleted her blog on Saturday night. I read her daily and missed her last week when she was gone. I was scrambling when I went to her blog and found it had been deleted. She has another blog where she posted her explanation for deleting Marlee's Rant. She deleted Marlee's Rant, in my opinion, because blogging for her had lost the intent, the intent to write. Instead, as it often does, it turns into a popularity contest. How many comments define your worth as a blogger. While I won't deny that I love comments, and my original intent of starting my own blog was, and still remains, my compulsion to write. Sometimes I am eloquent, elegant and down right erudite. The words flow effortessly from my brain to my fingertips in a symphony of words. Other times the words fail to come, it is as if the words are hitting a road block in the myelin of my brain.

So to Marlee, I respect your decision. I hope you will continue to share stories of Snacks and Sissy at Running from Martha.

Passover

Was lovely.

We did not prepare the children. Our fault not theirs.

We will work on this for next year.

I worry that time is slipping away and I have missed prime opportunities to teach them about their Jewish heritage.

Our Seder was lovely and sentiment filled. Thanks to Papa.

Happy Passover!

What is your routine? REWIND

I was reviewing my posts from the beginning and I found this one...cracked me up. I am, after all, my best audience. I hope you find it humorous too!

I was blogging around when I came upon an outline of a post partum routine. Now I know this feeling, you finally get your body back after being a good host for 9 months. But what I found so interesting is how different mine was. I had never thought about it before, my post baby routine, but I would have to guess that we all want the same things after we deliver. It made me laugh out loud at what my routine consisted of or didn't consist of. Read on, Dear Reader, read on.

1. Relief that baby is born. I loved being pregnant. It was the only time I was ever comfortable with or happy with my body. Maybe I could just stay pregnant...Now that is NOT healthy, see your therapist.

2. Eat and drink all the stuff not recommended while pregnant. Huh? What? Evidently, I was the ONLY member of the Low Birth Weight Club. While I didn't imbibe daily, I had a glass of wine probably once a month. And hold the judgement, I smoked a butt here and there too.

3. Get back into regular clothes. :-o I had to BUY non pregnancy clothes that would fit my Hoover, uh, I mean my large body. I inhaled food as if I had just been let out of a place where they didn't let you eat anything but dirt.

4. Wear jeans. I have never been a fan of jeans. I know this is weird, but it is true. Just the way my shape is I guess, not all that comfortable.

5. Join a gym. Yeah, I hate organized exercise. I am more the opportunistic exerciser. Build a fence, plant a garden, weed, mow the lawn, shovel snow. I did join Curves right after Oldest was born. That lasted one week.

6. Find clothes with water proof shoulders and lap. I wore my maternity clothes.

7. Find a babysitter. Still working on this one.

8. Think about something besides babies and kids. Not my issue, mine are to numerous to list here, but this isn't one of them.

9. Read books that have nothing to do with breast feeding or swaddling babies. When I went back to work after Middle there were no more parking spaces at the commuter rail. So I stopped reading daily. That was three years ago.

10. Find an activity that is just for me. My activity was to stop wetting my pants. Which I have done, both pregnant and post pregnant, on more than one occasion.

11. Get into shape. For someone who despises organized exercise I am in pretty good shape. Well that isn't true, let me say for someone who isn't in good shape I am pretty spry.

12. Discuss topics other than breast feeding, changing diapers and swaddling. The exact reason I only stayed home for 509 days. Well really only 41 days, but who's counting?

13. Read grown up books. Just started this weekend. Although I love to read, I veg out in front of the tv to unwind. My show of choice, Law and Order, either SVU or Criminal Intent.

I used scissors to remove them

I removed Middle's CRAPPY underpants with scissors last night. No. I am not kidding. This was the only alternative I could come up with that didn't involve me gagging and his legs becoming smeared with foul smelling POOP.

Unfortunately for King Daddy he walked right in while I was returning from retrieving the scissors from the kitchen. I made the first cut and thanked my lucky stars that he wasn't wearing Cars underpants. That would have been a total nightmare. The writhing would have put me over the edge.

I threw the soiled underpants into the trash with what seemed like an entire box of wipes. I did, because I am the BEST mother in the WORLD, remove his Cars jammie pants and "rinse" them in the toilet. I then proceeded to boil my hands.

Middle had, of course, when I went for the scissors, touched and wiped the POOP on his leg, hand, arm, etc. King Daddy carried Middle upstairs while holding him at arms length and gave him a bath. It was a crap shoot (pun intended) if we ourselves were going to be contaminated by the brown production.

Here are the boys, neither of whom have CRAPPY pants, dancing. On this day I had been dancing with Baby to the Wiggles. When I put him down, Middle came over and asked him to dance. My uterus contracted several times during this scene. Sigh...

Behind

I am behind.

...on laundry.
...on bills.
...on shrinking my behind.
...on having a date with my husband.
...on grocery shopping.
...on meal planning.

I am behind.


I am not behind on loving my children or my husband.

Papa

Is fiercely loved by them. He emailed to ask me to call him for he had a question. I called him back yesterday afternoon. "I bought a book and if you guys aren't doing anything I would like to come out and read it to the kids." "Of course!"

Passover begins on Saturday, it is King Daddy's most favorite of all the holidays. Although we are educating them in the Christian tradition the Jewish heritage is very important to King Daddy. It is important to me that they experience and learn all about this heritage. It is also important to Papa.

We celebrate all the Jewish holidays with King Daddy's family. We light the menorah during Hanukkah. Oldest was a tiny peanut at her first Seder. This year she will have more of an understanding. Papa sat in traffic for a good 2 hours to spend 2 hours visiting with us. He read the Passover book to the kids. Although they chattered away and peppered him with unrelated quips during his reading, it was a very precious moment for us as parents. We will read it to them again and again. On Saturday Papa will come to pick the kids up early so they can help Nonnie prepare for the Seder. They will make the matzo covers and color the Hagada. These traditions are part of who they are for who they are is Jewish.

Flower girls

Middle and Oldest are playing cars.
Oldest wants the one whose doors open, the Yellow Bug.
Baby has absconded with said car and is wandering around the house asking, repeatedly for "can cakes."
I am hurriedly trying to clean all the clutter around the house.
"Do you want to be flower girls," inquires Oldest?
"Nah. None of want to be flower girls," responds Middle.

***************************************************************************************
I picked Oldest up from preschool today, per usual.
Upon arriving I needed to use the Ladies room so I was in the school when the class came down the hall.
Oldest spotted me right away.
Today she is wearing a fur lined hooded Gap sweatshirt.
I greeted Mrs. B who reported to me that upon Oldest's departure from school she asked the entire class, "Has everyone had a chance to feel my sweatshirt?"

I just about fell over due to the hilarity of it all.

That girl is funny!

A litte of this and a little of that

Middle: "Can I put this in your nose?"

Me: "No, you cannot put that in my nose."

My Middle, he is the coziest bug and he loves his blankie. Every night he caresses his nose and his ear with a fringe, only a certain fringe, not just any fringe and then he sticks it up said nose and inside his ear. So to be offered a fringe in my very own nose, well it made me melt. It is a high honor, truly.

***************************************************************************************

If I weren't such an advanced age I would continue to have babies. Being pregnant and delivering babies gave me confidence in my body. It was the only time in all of these years that the power of my body enabled me to feel comfortable in my body. The body that I have always viewed as less than. Pregnancy and delivery made me see my body as perfect.

One thing I love about being a mother is watching the evolution of the sibling relationship. Their relationship to one another will outlast my relationship with each of them. I am truly grateful to be a part of this journey with them.

It gives me great pause to see Baby gaze at Middle and attempt to imitate him in everything. Baby is in love with Middle. It makes my heart grow with love and adoration that I have been charged with these humans, especially when I hear him say "Wibble." It is pure magic.

*************************************************************************************

Yesterday was a blue ribbon day around these parts. The weather was divine and we spent the day outside working on the yard, playing, cleaning up the barn, making trips to the dump and enjoying the warm, glorious weather. It was the perfect antidote to my elevating anxiety about being in the red. That and having King Daddy home with us. I often spin in my head with thoughts that are nothing but destructive.

Breathing the fresh air and physical activity while working on the yard helps me relax and to stay grounded. There is a lot that I can do for our yard that costs no money that will contribute to my quest to have the nicest yard on our street. After all it is a balance of want and need. I want to plant new plants, but I need to plant new grass seed, see above. I want to mulch my garden beds, but I don't need to mulch them today. What I need is to give love and accept love, everything else will wait.

*************************************************************************************

King Daddy took Middle and Oldest to the spring production of Oklahoma, where he teaches. We knew that Oldest would be able to sit through the performance and really enjoy it, it was Middle who was questionable.

I was surprised when, at 9:30 the door opened and Oldest was the one who had opened the door. King Daddy had Middle draped over his shoulder, fast asleep. They had a wonderful time!! Middle enjoyed the show and even went potty! His most favorite thing was clapping. King Daddy reports that he was the most exuberant clapper in the entire audience. I told King Daddy I was surprised that Oldest hadn't fallen asleep on the ride home. His reply? "We had a lot to talk about," he said. "Oh yes, I forgot. " Oldest is a chatter box and there was much to discuss. Middle told me all about it this morning. What he loved most of all? Going to daddy's work.

Oldest wore a sparkly skirt with her pink velvet hooded cape and her sparkly shoes. She wanted to look her most beautiful. She sure did, I should have taken a picture...

Wait, did I mention?

That I have a black eye.
Yes, you read that correctly. I have a black eye. It could have used a steak on Thursday night when Baby smacked me in the face. Pay no attention to the crow's feet...but feel sympathy for my black eye, for it is painful...

She sings in the bathroom

This baby girl came to us on March 4, 2003...

This girl loves her mother more than anyone in the world...

This girl went to pre-school this fall...
This girl has learned how to write her name...

This girl loves to twinkle and dance...
This girl loves to color...

This girl cries over the slightest thing while at home...
This girl loves horses and princesses...

This girl is kind and loving to her classmates...
This girl is ready for great success in Kindergarten...

This girl sings in the bathroom at school!

I LOVE THIS GIRL!!!

It did hurt me more than him

My heart broke last night. Truly. Middle was sent upstairs for the night at 6:15. I fed him upstairs. He was not allowed to come back down stairs. My heart ached. It took everything I had not to let him come back down stairs, but then what kind of disciplinarian would I be? The kind featured on Nanny 911. He finally fell asleep in his nest on the floor.



It is my hope that this punishment he will remember. The traditional time outs do not offer him an iota of punishment. The ineffectiveness mocks me with sheer frustration and his undesirable behavior continues unaltered. It seems that the three minutes is over and the experience has not offered enough time to suffer. That may sound horrible but the mere thought of a time out makes Oldest obey. Different kids, different strategies.


Parenthood is a scientific experiment in motion. Results will vary from child to child as will the experiment. The only scientific constant in this house is love.

Have you ever felt deflated?

That is the way I am feeling right now. Deflated.

We are in the red, again.
The lawn is D E A D.
The children are whining.
Mounds of laundry need attention.
Taxes haven't been done.
Bills need payin'
Phone needs answering.
Weight needs to be addressed.

I would like to crawl into bed.

Middle is in time out upstairs in his room. I opened the door as I assumed he was throwing stuffed animals down the stairs. Um, no. He tore the lathe and plaster from the wall and threw it down the stairs. The hole was there, only smaller.
Sigh.
I put the gate up.
I called King Daddy.
I cleaned up.
Sigh.

Parallel Universe

After I dropped the kids off at our babysitter I hit the road. By the time I had arrived my mom and my two sisters had already spoken with the victim/witness advocate and been ushered upstairs. After going through security I spotted my family. After a fair amount of milling about we were allowed into the 2nd Session, as spectators. The door to the judge's chambers swung open and the bailiff said, "Judge, all rise. Court. Please be seated." We looked around at each other. We all concurred that this is nothing like Law and Order. The Court Matron shuffled papers and handed them to the Judge. The defendants lawyers were on the left and the ADA's were on the right. It was almost laughable. There didn't seem to be any preparation at one point the Judge had to look up the sentence for a defendant should he violate his parole.

Then there was the girl who had been arrested for shop lifting who was wearing Roca Wear sweat pants with Roca Wear across her behind. She had chosen to represent herself.
I don't remember what I wore on the day I appeared in court, however, I keenly remember having a lawyer. A lawyer that my parents did not pay for, I had to make payments and I remember getting money orders and hand delivering them.

After all the cases had been called our small group and only one other person remained in the gallery. The Court Matron asked if any cases remained that had not been called. After no one responded we were dismissed. We rose to leave and the Court Matron called after us, "Ladies, could you wait please? I'm just curious," she said. She wanted to know why we were there and what we were doing. We explained what brought us to the court and that we came to support our mother. Spectacles. Always.

After another short bout of milling we were directed to the 3rd Session (which is essentially a court room, at least from this lay person's perspective). The victim/witness advocate told us our case was still being lobbied and she was unsure when it would go before a judge. She had an interview and told us we should just wait outside the 3rd Session until they called us in. We were free to watch until our case was called.

The bailiff opened the door to announce that court was in session. There were a few people in the waiting area and my family had gone to the Ladies room. I walked in. The room's light, is what I remembered. This was the room I had been in all those years ago.

Our case was the first one called. A plea had been reached. He plead guilty and lost his license for a period time, I can't recall how long. We waited for the defendant from our case to depart and then exited the court room.

We went to find the victim/witness advocate. "Could we leave?" "Oh yes, you are all done. Thank you so much for coming." We thanked her for all of her help. We discussed how intimidating all of this was even if you are here as a witness. She again thanked my mom for coming and she said many people don't show up because it is intimidating. She walked us upstairs into the lobby and the chatter turned to lunch.

She recommended a few restaurants which are undeniably yummy, however, they are also smack dab in the middle of my home town. My mom didn't want to run into her boss and I can't deal with sightings. I have been out of high school for 21+ years and I just can't deal with sightings. So we went to a delicious restaurant and had a great lunch. With no sightings. Well, maybe one.

Today was the season opener for the Red Sox. During lunch we watched the ring ceremony, on mute. Every member of the team gets a ring, the support staff, all the trainers, everyone. They introduce each non playing team member out on the field. I was cheering for all of them! They introduced one of the trainers, his name flashed on the screen, my sister and I looked at each other. Wait. Was that John Smith? Our John Smith?

A sighting when receiving a World Series ring? I'll take it.

Off to court today

My mom was in an accident right before Christmas. The man who side swiped her is contesting that he was pie eyed while driving his red corvette.

I, as well as my siblings, will be accompanying her to the court as she is to appear as a witness. It is the same court where I made an appearance 21 years ago. However, that is a story for another day.

Run don't walk and then go hug your family

Please go visit this site...

The story of the King and Queen

Kathy from Kathy likes Pink tagged me for this meme. I will be tagging some of you soon!!!

How long have you been together?
We have been together since February of 2000. We have known each other since college. A long time ago, 1994 I think. We hated each other. He was a pompous, self important, arrogant, ultra smart, JERK!

How long did you date?
February of 2000 until we got married October 7, 2001.

How old is he?
He is 37. And I am 2 years older than him and he LOVES to point that out!!!

Who said "I love you" first?
He did. In an email. Which I believe I still have somewhere and if I don’t have it physically, I can recite from memory.

Who is taller?
He is, but not by much.

Who is smarter?
Without question he is.

Who does the laundry?
Laundry????

Who sleeps on the right side of the bed?
Him.

Who pays the bills?
I do. Although we are trying to make it a group project.

Who mows the lawn?
The landscaper.

Who cooks dinner?
I make dinner for the kids. We generally scrounge the left overs from the kids. I can’t remember the time I made a yummie grown up dinner for us!!

Who is more stubborn?
I don’t really know. Neither of us get stuck on things or have power struggles. Generally we work together to figure out an issue.

Who kissed who first?
He kissed me first. In the parking lot of our alma matter. My heart nearly pounded out of my chest.

Who asked who out?
I don’t know how to answer that one…not sure he ever asked me out.

Who proposed?
I did.
Alright Muffy Willowbrook, you asked for it!!
We moved in together in November 2000. We had had a conversation 6 mos into our relationship about our level of commitment and how we were in this for the long haul. This is a discussion that neither of us wanted to have, however, it happened as my living situation was changing and his needed to change. So we decided that we would live together knowing that inevitably we would one day marry. Even though I, in my most conservative way, had proclaimed that I would not live with anyone prior to marriage.
I remember "the proposal" vividly. It was not so much a proposal as a rhetorical question in only the way that I can ask such question. It was a Saturday morning and we were just hanging about. I was standing over our table shuffling papers and said, quite matter of fact, "Are we going to get married this year ?" To which he replied, "Yes."
No man had it easier. We planned the most beautiful wedding in just 7 months.


Who is more sensitive?
Me, hands down.

Arrrrrgh

Two

We were supposed to be having a tour

It was all planned. We were supposed to have a tour of the birth unit as we had changed practices. Our babysitter had already agreed to watch the older ones while we went off to tour the hospital. She had also called me earlier in the day to tell me that she would keep the kids overnight if needed. As she knew something was up.

We never had the tour. Instead I was admitted at 7 p.m.

2 years ago today

I was working from home. Something was happening. I hadn't been into my office that week, it was too far from home. I deliver too fast. What if it happened on the Pike or in my office? I couldn't chance it. We knew it would happen early, the others came 9 days early. This one was so very different from the other two. I called the doctor three times that day. I didn't know what was going on, but something clearly was. I felt like a first time mom. I kept apologizing for calling.

You're not what?

My dad, as previously mentioned, is a physician. He is a retired physician. He started practicing medicine in 1968. We moved from Ohio after his residency, I in utero, to Massachusetts. He became a doctor to help people. He would have practiced for nothing. He was a doctor in the golden age of medicine. Doctors were viewed as god’s. We saw our pediatrician without charge, as a professional courtesy, back in the day. He went to the hospital every morning to round on his patients, before seeing patients at his office. He took every Wednesday off and was on call every 5th weekend or something like that. He took me and my younger sister with him when he did rounds on Saturdays. We had green jello and ham in the cafeteria. It seemed that everyone knew him. It seemed that everyone thought he was a wonderful, caring, physician.

I thought of him nothing more than my father. Just a regular guy, who took us with him when he went to the dump, took us camping and pulled the car into the garage on a night he had promised to take us to the drive in and it rained. When I was in high school and working at a local grocery store a woman, a substitute teacher at my high school, said this to me, “Your father saves lives. You should be very proud of him.” I never ever thought of him that way.

My dad retired when he was 62, not because he wanted to but because the landscape of medicine had changed so drastically from when he began that he could no longer practice the way he had been trained. He had to justify the ordering of tests to medical case managers at insurance companies. Um, who has the M.D. after his name? Managed care has removed the role of a physician to the non-decision making seat. It has become a labyrinth of referrals and lawsuits. The insurance companies get richer, the health insurance companies as well as the malpractice insurance companies.

When did it all become about money? When did the care of humans, of moms and dads, babies, and grandmothers, become about money? When? It may have happened sometime in the ‘80s but I am not sure. I distinctly remember NOT having an insurance card. I distinctly remember going to the doctor and being billed for the services. It wasn’t until I had a job that I had my own insurance, after years of hiding in college/graduate school. I don't think I have been without insurance since that time.

But many people are without health insurance. More people than I care to think about. I have never been an advocate or politically minded person. However, as a mother that has changed. As a mother I have to be an advocate and I must remain vigilant about social issues. One issue that I take for granted and never even think twice about is health insurance. We have health insurance. I can see any doctor I want for nominal fee. My son can have a Mag 3 test and I will never see a bill. Oldest hadn’t been to the doctor since her last well visit in 2007. We can see the dermatologist for her spot once a year and never see a bill. We are lucky and I know we are lucky. We are healthy and insured. We are an insurer’s best customer.

When did it all become about money? When malpractice insurance went up 200%? Or was it when the student loans the doctors left medical school with became too burdensome? Or was it when pharmaceutical companies began to send the representatives into the physician offices to woo them with dinners and fancy trips for writing prescriptions for their drugs? Or was it when the business world took over the medical industry? Or was it when the politicians got involved? I don’t know when it was; all I know is there are people without health insurance. There are families without health insurance. There are people with jobs that don’t have health insurance. There are people with jobs who make too much money to qualify for state aid. There are people with jobs who make too much money to qualify for state aid who don’t have healthy kids. There are people with jobs whose insurance is sub-par and ridiculously expensive. There are people with kids who need medical attention. Weekly. Who aren't getting what they need.

We live in a country that does not value family, health or the pursuit of happiness. We birth or adopt babies and get a whopping 12 weeks of unpaid, job protected leave. That promotes family. No health insurance? The door is slammed in your face. Pursuit of what? Oh happiness.

Action

The good news is, after speaking with best friend the other night I heeded her advice. We are eradicating Middle's nap habit, yesterday was the first day. Last night he went to bed and didn't get up. Now mind you, I went to bed at 7 o'clock so I have no idea about any of it. King Daddy gave me the scoop this morning.

Next is potty training. I haven't really pushed this all that much between working and dealing with laundry when having accidents, I just can't deal. However, last night was the last straw. Middle had a poop, he resisted changing and "held" on to it for far longer than I care to admit. When I inquired of King Daddy if he still had a poop, while prone on the couch dozing, Middle decided to prove to me that he did, in fact still had a poop. He stuck his hand down his diaper and came out with the proof. I woke to a little toddler finger with a poop top. I was gagging. We are Mock 10 to potty training.

Oldest is just like her mother. Yesterday was her 5 year well visit. Her underwear was on backwards.

Author's note = success today. He is a night pooper so it remains to be seen if he will poop on the potty, but he tinkled all day!!!!

Doh! Spoke too soon. By the time I spotted him, the Crouching Tiger Pooping Toddler, was done. Progress none the less, tinkles all day! I will not, however let him examine his poop. I told him when he poops on the potty he can examine it all he wants. SO GROSS!

1 hour and 27 minutes

7:53 p.m. - "When the clock says eight zero zero it will be time to turn off the t.v."
8:03 p.m. - "I said t.v. off at eight zero zero."
8:03 - 8:04 p.m. - argued about brushing teeth with Middle
8:05 - 8:11 p.m. - brushed teeth and picked out books
8:12 p.m. - 8:20p.m. - read three books, one for each
8:21 p.m. - discussion ensues regarding sleeping place. They want to sleep on the floor I tell them, "you can start out on the floor as long as you stay in your rooms. No coming into mommy's bed. Are we clear?"
8:22 p.m. - Middle ambulates upstairs, I carry Baby up to his crib return downstairs to carry Oldest upstairs.
8:23 p.m. - I settle the two of them on the floor. We say our prayers, hug and kisses for all. I explain that if I have to come up stairs I will; turn out the lights in the hall and in the bathroom, put everyone in their bed AND put the gate up on their room.
8:26 p.m. - Horror show begins.
8:37 p.m. - I put myself in time out. I sit outside in King Daddy's car (King Daddy is off at a client appointment) and call my best friend. She talks me down off the ledge while a litany of f-bombs flies from my lips. We talked for 1 hour and 27 minutes. She has been here and done this and totally gets it.
8:45 p.m. - I return inside to investigate.
8:47 p.m. - Oldest comes down to the bottom of the stairs and pokes her head out. I am hiding. I return to my haven, outside.
9:05 p.m. - King Daddy returns from his appointment, I pounce on him as soon as he opens the door to the car. "I'm in time out." "Are they still up?" "Uh huh."
9:35 p.m. - King Daddy says good night and dares to go up. I don't know what time they finally fell asleep as I fell asleep on the couch downstairs.
2:22 a.m. - awoken by Baby screaming and King Daddy's footsteps overhead. I ran upstairs to find out what was happening. "I have no friggin' idea," King Daddy yawns and then knocks a cup of water on the hall floor. Good times people, good times. I dash into their room and pluck Baby from the crib. I see one purple cocoon on the floor and two empty beds. Hmmm... 2:27 a.m. - play first kid show from DVR.
3:20 a.m. - first run of Iron Giant.
3:25 a.m. - "Please, PLEASE just go to bed, I am begging you, PUHLEASE."
3:32 a.m. - Baby asks for help putting the space helmet on.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME???

Notables

Oldest said this after putting mouse ears on:

"Maybe Murphy will think I am a mouse wearing a short sleeve shirt." A green short sleeve shirt that didn't even closely match the rose colored Victorian inspired velour pants nor the brown sweater she was wearing today. Funny nonetheless...the things that go on in her mind continually amaze me.

She just said this:

"Can you help me pull up his skirt?"

Middle said this while two chubby toddler hands grasp the handle of a pretend sword:

"Dad, I am going to destroy the world. I, I am going to do it like this [picture a thrust downward with the sword]."

He says this on a regular basis:

"Mom, Kitty is in the glitter box."

He is one funny kid. Especially how he makes facial expressions and how he emphasizes his speech. It is not so funny, however, when he has a tantrum. Not. at. all.

Baby says this whenever I give him something:

"Bank you momma." So darling!

And he also says things like this:

"Shoot gun." As he points his chub hand and says "psh, psh" to make the sound of a gun.

Since Oldest was my first (duh) and a girl I have no experience with all of this boy stuff. We don't have any sort of play guns in the house, but if any of you are parents to boys, you know they will make anything, and I do mean anything, into a gun. Cheese, a graham cracker, you name it!!

They say so many things that make me laugh out loud and these are just a few that struck over the past couple of days.

Glitter box? bwah!!!