Pickin'

Today was one of those days when I was really glad to be staying at home. Some friends and I went berry picking at a nearby farm. Big A was high on life today and had a blast. She made sure to show us every berry she picked and get our approval. Little A didn't pick any, but she did eat her share. She is still a bit clingy since her hospital stay, which I think is to be expected. After we picked our share, we played at the park there. When we got home, I got to play pick your own fruit with Big A in the basement. Thrilling!

Post-traumatic stress

I was really hoping not to have another post featuring one of my girls in a hospital gown. But life doesn't always go as planned.

The good news is that everything is fine. Getting to fine is another story.

When I woke up Thursday morning, I had no idea anything like this would happen. J got Little A up and put her in bed with me. I was being lazy and sleeping in since I was planning to go the gym in the morning and didn't need a shower beforehand. He took her downstairs while I brushed my teeth and I heard him saying, "Why can't you walk?" I immediately walked downstairs to find our active little girl unable to take any steps without falling to one side or backwards. She stumbled like a drunk and we looked at each other with real worry. After calling our pediatrician, we were instructed to head straight to the ER.

You can imagine the jumble of thoughts that were going on. As we drove there (she threw up on the way, which increased my worry), I wondered if this memory would be burned in my mind as the start of something awful. It was a terrifying thought. One that didn't go away no matter how hard I pushed it. When we got to the wonderful children's hospital up the road from us, they saw us right away. We showed them how she couldn't walk and they examined her, took urine and finally sent in a neurology specialist. The worst case scenarios flashed through my mind as he told us that he would like to admit us and do an MRI. Honestly, looking back I'm not sure how I held it together, but I did.

I was in denial as we were admitted and the nurse asked if we'd ever stayed overnight before. "Oh, we're not staying overnight," I said. "Well, I think you are," he answered. And we were. Our MRI was scheduled for early the next morning and it set in that this was not being taken lightly. As the day went on, Little A began to walk better and wasn't falling at all. This was a good sign, but they decided to do the MRI anyway just to rule anything out. As hard as it was to see my little girl go through this ordeal, it does give us peace of mind to know that 500 pictures of her (Einstein) brain later, she was declared fine. They said it was likely the after-effect of a virus or cold that can sometimes happen in toddlers. We were sent home with no restrictions.

I feel like we dodged a bullet. Somehow, we were one of the lucky ones. You hear stories all the time about a weird symptom like Little A had, and it being the sign of a rare and serious disease. To be told that it was nothing was like winning the biggest lottery of our life.

To be honest, I feel like I've already learned and taken to heart the lesson to appreciate your loved ones and not take health for granted. In spite of the daily grind, I feel like I remember this every day. In fact, more and more I'm starting to wonder if I'd been living under a rock for the first 30 years of my life, because wow, bad stuff happens a LOT in this world. Its unavoidable and scary and it sucks. I guess I was really blessed to have not seen a lot of that growing up. I can thank my parents for shielding me and letting me live a pretty worry-free life.

Now...well, being a parent seems to be about constant worry. As I followed Little A around the playground today, I thought how things can change forever in an instant. She could fall off a slide or trip on a rock or be snatched by a stranger. No matter how hard I try, I can't keep her safe forever. But dammit, I am going to try. Wouldn't you?

Remember that time?

Hey Big A - remember that time when you were 4 and you got mad at me for something or other and stomped up to your room? And I bragged on Facebook about how great it was that you could play on your own in your room? And then a little while later, you came downstairs with your new doll with her toes and feet painted blue and said you wanted them to be just like yours? And then I asked you if you'd made a mess with the nailpolish and you said no? And I said, "Are you sure? Just tell me now." And you still said no.

And then we went upstairs for bedtime and there on your beautiful Pottery Barn Kids rug that I saved for forever were 5 spots of bright blue nailpolish? And remember how you started crying before I said a word? And I tried to scrub it out to no avail? And I told you to get ready for bed and you couldn't watch a cartoon before bed as your punishment? And then you screamed "Calliou" hysterically while jumping on your bed for 20 minutes while Little A and I watched the show? And then cried some more. And then finally stopped when I came in to say goodnight. And then I said "I love you" and you said "I love you, too" and we were both kind of relieved that it was still true?

Oh yeah, that was tonight. Good times.

Just say no?

I've always had a difficult time saying no. I think it must come from being a middle child and a natural born people-pleaser. So its no surprise that my inability to say no extends to my mothering.

Pretty much anytime my kids ask for something, they get it. Not in a bratty, "give me it NOW" type of way (no way, man), but if we're at WaWa and Big A wants some gum, more than likely she gets it. Or if we're at the supermarket, I let them pick out fruit snacks or cereal.

I didn't think of this as a problem until recently when we were at Target. As I unloaded my cart, I realized that I had gone way overboard in picking things up for the kids. There were Dora and Princess placemats (when we don't even use placemats), Dora and Princess plastic bowls (we have more than enough bowls at home), yogurt with m&m's, pool toys and stickers. I made a comment to the checkout lady about the kids making my trip more expensive. She looked at me and said "Girl, you need to learn to say no."

Damn. Shouldn't the checkout lady WANT me to buy more crap from her store? She went on to tell me she had raised 8 kids and was well-versed in saying no. Well, I thought, that's why I'm only having 2 kids...so I can say yes. I shrugged it off.

Then last night we were at dinner with the girls. There was a display of (free) cookies at the checkout counter so I took the girls up to get one after dinner. Big A said she didn't like those type of cookies and wanted something else. "No," I said. But there was a display of fruit snacks and we both spied them at the same time. "I want those," she said. "Okay, go ask Daddy for a dollar." J looked at me in disbelief. Why was I letting them buy fruit snacks after we had just had dinner and there were free cookies? Who cared if she liked them or not?

This is when I realized that maybe I did have a problem. Maybe I do say yes too much.

Not coincidentally, lately I've been complaining about the fact that my kids (well, really Big A because Little A is too young) seem ungrateful. No matter how much we give them, its not enough. They want what they want when they want it.

And so I'm starting to put the pieces together. How can they not want instant gratification when they always get it? And how can they understand that they're lucky to have what they have, when that is all they know?

So I'm resolving to change. To say no more. To make a treat a treat. To teach my girls that they can't always have everything they want at the exact moment they want it. Its not the most fun lesson to teach. Let's face it, I like making my kids happy. They're pretty cute and convincing. And saying yes is easier. There's less whining. But the easy choice is not always the best, and the hard choice can make things easier in the long-term. I mean, right now it may be chewing gum and fruit snacks, but in a few years it will be pierced ears and designer shoes and whatever else is in fashion. And while of course my kids will not be deprived, I don't want them to expect everything. And frankly, I can't really afford it.

Wish me luck as I embark on this mission. I'm sure I will slip up from time to time. Even with saying no more, I'll probably still be a softie compared to many others. And I'm okay with that. As I'm learning myself, life doesn't always hand you everything. There will be hard times. With any luck, my kids won't have to experience going without for a long time. But I hope they will be grateful for that fact and not take it for granted.

I just knew...

My 6 months of state unemployment insurance ended this week, so it was time to head into the unemployment office to file for my federal extension. Going to the unemployment office with two kids is pretty much like a set-up for a joke, right? Going in with this attitude allowed me to pretty much laugh at the hilarity that ensued.

I arrived at 2:30 having woken Little A up from her nap - the office closes at 4 p.m. so I was hoping that it would be less busy in the afternoon. Ha! I took a number from the kiosk - 45. They were serving number 26 and from a few questions to my neighbors, many of them had been waiting for 2 or more hours...yikes. I contemplated leaving since it would be my luck to wait an hour and a half and then not be served. But I decided to take my chances.

I came woefully unprepared. I managed to find a notebook and some pens which kept the girls busy for about 30 seconds. Till Little A started using ME as a notebook. No more pen. I found two pieces of candy which took up another minute. Little A had grabbed a princess purse from the car and started emptying the contents. Of all the toys that we have in our house, do you want to guess what just happened to be in the purse? A pink plastic SYRINGE from her doctor set. Yes, folks, a syringe. I'm sure I looked like mother of the year. She also had a big plastic fake lipstick which she kept inexplicably pretending to put on her forearm. The guy behind me leaned over and asked if she thought it was deodorant. What the hell? What 1 year old uses deodorant?

Big A was getting antsy and started people-watching. A large woman came in and sat down. Big A came up to me and said in a normal speaking voice, "Mommy, why doesn't that woman fit in the chair?" I quickly shushed her and told her it wasn't nice to talk about people. Ahhh. Then she started imitating the man behind us (deodorant man), mimicking him talking on his cell phone and putting his head into his hands.

Finally after 1 hour and 15 minutes, our number was called. I went to the counter and luckily the process was pretty easy and I was able to sign the papers I needed in between yelling at the girls to stop hitting each other, running away, whining and pulling at me. I now have 20 more weeks of federal unemployment benefits.

I have to say that the unemployment office is a pretty humbling place. It doesn't matter who you are, you are in the same boat as every other person in there and no one is particularly happy to be there. But in the end, I'm very grateful that unemployment insurance exists and gives us what we need to get by in these tough times.

Hopefully something great comes along in the next 20 weeks. Until then, we are going to make the most of our summer. It may well be the last summer I have off work for a long while.

The cost of an interview

When J and I moved back to our hometown from Washington, DC, one of the main reasons behind our move was our miserable commutes. We were seriously developing high blood pressure from the crazy traffic and time in the car we had to experience each day.

At my job that I was laid off from, I had a *4 minute* commute. It doesn't get much better than that. I could come home for lunch or to let a repairman in. I could fit in a doctor's appointment during the day and run errands and even come home to put the groceries in the fridge. Heck, I even left unnoticed to use the bathroom once (emergency!).

In my job applications, I've been focusing on my small city and purposely not looking in the bigger city nearby, even though there are probably more jobs available there. But when I got a call from a recruiter about a job in the bigger city, I cracked. It was part-time so I thought maybe it wouldn't be so bad to commute a few times a week in exchange for a couple of days off.

So today was my interview. I arranged to have my dad babysit - which in this case was free. If I'd used a non-family babysitter, I imagine I would have paid about $40. I left with 2 hours to spare - double the estimated time to get there - and a book to read if I got there early - hah! I stopped for coffee since we'd been up since 5:30 a.m. leaving the beach ($2). As soon as I got onto the entrance to the highway, I came to a complete stop. I called home and found out there was a tractor trailer accident ahead of me. I inched forward for nearly an HOUR, feeling my blood pressure rise. I was pretty sure I wasn't going to make it on time. Finally, I passed the accident (luckily, looked like no one was hurt) and started moving. I got off the exit in the heart of the city and quickly located the building...however, I did not so quickly locate a parking lot. I circled for about ten minutes, as the minutes ticked away. City drivers are no joke and I was seriously sweating when I finally spotted a hotel parking lot that was open to the public. I swung in, gathered my things and started to run.

I had about 10 minutes till my interview. It was over 90 degrees out and I was wearing a suit. And heels. And I was in a city that I do not know. I managed to find the building, but not without sweating through my suit ($20 for drycleaning). As I checked in, I saw that it was 3:27 - I had made it with three minutes to spare. Thanks to my coffee and the sun, I was dying to use the restroom and try to clean up, but it was not to be. They whisked me into the interview. It went okay, but I had pretty much already decided in my head that it wasn't going to happen. They couldn't tell me what the hours would be (and um...I kind of need consistent hours with childcare) and said they were still deciding whether to hire a contractor or use a PR firm. Hmmm. Not to mention that a contract job comes without benefits of any kind.

After the interview, I paid for my parking ($18) and set out for home. An hour and an exhausted stop for takeout later ($5), I was home. 3 hours of driving and a quarter tank of gas ($20) for a one hour interview.

Added up, my total expenses to go to this interview were $65 and that was with free babysitting. Ouch.

Suffice it to say I will not be looking for any more jobs in the big city. This small town girl is sticking close to home.

A day in the life

There was blood before 9 a.m. this morning.

Little A knocked over Big A's cup and Big A shoved her. In her defense, Big A didn't know Little A had a little plastic doll in her hand that managed to scratch her forehead and eye. Ouch. Crying ensued. We were in a rush already since Big A fought me about her clothes. As I pulled up her pants, she kept trying to pull them down. I finally asked her why she kept pulling her pants down. "Because mom, you make me look like an old man when you pull my pants up." Okay then. I promise you, she did NOT learn that from me!

After dropping Big A off at school (her last week!), Little A and I ran some errands. We had some extra time so we went to the mall. I was looking at some clothes and Little A was burning off some energy. By pretending to be a dog. This is her new game. She gets pretty into it. Like crawling on the floor with her tongue out making dog noises. So she's crawling around next to me "heheheh" when I guess the dog decided it was time to do her business. She looked up at me and said loudly "Choke a donkey mommy. WHEW. Poopy!" Mortified, I tried to shush her. Yeah, be careful what you say to kids. "Choke a donkey" is now her standard phrase when she needs a diaper change. At home, its funny. In public? Not so much. I quickly got in line to pay for a shirt. Little A was still crawling on the floor next to me. Bad smells were starting to waft from her vicinity. I tried to pretend she wasn't mine. She came (crawled) up to me. "POOPY!" she yelled. I smiled at the woman behind me, paid for my shirt and ran out of the store.

After we picked up Big A from school, we met my dad for lunch. He was amazed at how much food Little A could pack away. She had salad, macaroni and cheese and half his spaghetti. She was strategically placed next to my dad so I got to actually eat my meal in peace - score one for mom.

He came back to our house to play with the girls for a bit. Big A fell off her new bike. Then she made up a game that involved a doll bunk bed, books, a baton, a toy piano, a pillow and a blanket. You'd have to see it to understand.

After naps and quiet time, we went out for a walk in between rain storms. I'm proud to say I completed a .5k in just under 50 minutes. Yes, I DID mean to put a decimal in front of the 5. We walked around the block complete with dolls, doll strollers and the slowest dolly pusher in all the land. We got to meet the "trampoline family" at long last. I'm sure every neighborhood has one of these. The ones with the lots of kids and the noise and the trampoline in the backyard? The dad was very nice and introduced Big A to his 5 year old girl. As we walked away, she asked why we couldn't have a trampoline. I told her that maybe if she was friends with the little girl she could play on hers. She walked a few steps, then came back. "How do I get to be friends with her mom?"

It started pouring rain after our marathon walk, so I felt lucky. We had a "delicious" dinner of fish sticks, tater tots and green beans. We played one of Big A's new games she got for her birthday. J tried to cheat. Yes, he is THAT competitive that he actually tried to cheat against his 4 year old and 1 year old daughters. He still lost.

And then Dora and bedtime.

Not a bad day at all.