Motherhood Musings Archives - Page 8 of 10

Diary of a Tantrum: I Got the Maxx

June 28, 2012 by momindcity 7 Comments

Once upon a time, a little girl had a big tantrum. Her mom put her in time out, she learned her lesson, and it never happened again. The end.

Bahahahaha isn’t that a hilarious story?!

Anyone who has a child has seen a tantrum, and if you have a “spirited” child you’ve seen more than a few. They cry, they scream, they fling themselves on the ground– sometimes banging their head on a nearby table. Their eyes become wild, and you wonder when the devil took over your child’s body, and what kind of exorcism it will take to get sweet little Sally back.

Let me tell you about my latest episode. It started with a quick shopping trip that may have started around bedtime (don’t judge). We had just left DSW, where a 5- minute look in the Clearance section ended with me losing Zana. I found her on a ledge hiding behind the summer handbags. Next on the roster, a quick stop at TJMaxx. Since I wasn’t born yesterday, I knew not to go shopping alone with Zana and had my friend Caroline with me for backup.

When we got inside, I strapped little Z into a shopping cart. “Let’s go for a little ride!” She was excited for a total of 30 seconds, when she realized her plan to hide in the racks of clothing had been foiled. She started to get frustrated, reaching out of the cart to try and grab anything she could get her hands on, struggling unsuccessfully to undo the seat belt, raising her voice in protest. Here’s what happened next…

tantrum — A: she ripped off her own shirt…

I started to respond, “Zana…” Oh, forget it. I talked myself down and reminded myself that she wants me to get upset and that I’m the adult in this scenario. Then…

tantrum 2 — B: She reached a blouse and used it to pull closer to the racks

I remained calm– and also started snapping pictures because, let’s be honest, it’s very entertaining. Well, that just made her angry…

At this point, she’s screaming her head off. I know I could have easily walked out of the store, which is what I would have done with my first child (when I cared what people thought), but I needed a new hair straightener and decided to complete the shopping trip despite all of the looks. You know the looks, right? Everyone has an opinion and nobody is afraid to show it. [Read more…]

Back From Our Trip and (not) Ready to Go Again!

June 20, 2012 by momindcity Leave a Comment

After spending more than 24 hours in the car this past weekend, I had plenty of time to be annoyed, impressed, frustrated, and amused by my kids. There was also plenty of time to be annoyed, frustrated and annoyed (did I already say annoyed?) with my husband– but hey, we’re still here! And that’s an accomplishment.

It doesn’t matter how many DVDs, coloring books, Barbies and snacks you bring… when you’re on a road trip from DC to Chicago, there is plenty of down time.

Here are ten things I learned about Lira and Zana over the weekend.

Lira does not back down from an argument– especially when it has to do with a Disney movie. (Want to know which is which when it comes to Flora, Fauna and Merryweather? Ask her, not Dave).
Time outs work for Lira– even when it just means no books for 10 minutes. They don’t work on Zana at all– not even when it means locking her in the trunk. Just kidding. Sort of.
Zana does like to eat after all! The problem is that we’re always trying to feed her a fruit or a vegetable. If you give her rest-stop pizza and cookies, she’ll eat all day long– even while sitting in a car seat and expending zero energy.
Accusing Lira of “tooting” makes her laugh, no matter how many times you do it– which in this case, was before every toll booth. You know those rumble strips they put in the road to make you slow down for the toll? The ones that make that… that sound? Well, all you have to do is say “Ewwwww, Lira!” and the giggles don’t stop.
The girls know all of the words to Jai Ho from Slumdog Millionaire. Lira even asked “if this song is in India, why do they say ‘bila bila’? That’s Spanish.”
Zana has a death grip. Every time Lira got too close, Zana would grab a chunk of hair; it took two adult hands to pry each finger off one at a time. And she’s convinced that a simple “saw-wee” makes it all ok.
There’s nothing more exciting than a tunnel.
Starbucks better watch out if Zana needs to “go.” She needs her privacy, even if that means hiding behind a display and knocking over all the glasses.

No matter how many Disney movies you bring (we brought 8), you never have the one they want to watch.
Both daughters are very patient, only asking “are we there yet?” about 10 times… which is more than I can say for myself.

As insightful as this journey may have been, I hope we don’t ever make that drive again. The girls have other ideas, though. When I arrived home from work yesterday, they both ran out to the car with bags full of toys yelling “we wanna go back to Chicago!”

Have mercy…

Latest ER Trip: Nursemaids Elbow

June 15, 2012 by momindcity 11 Comments

It has been a week, hasn’t it y’all?!

Yesterday was supposed to be an easy day: Lira’s last day of pre-K (a half day), Zana spending the morning at daycare, and Dave and I working until noon. The car was already packed for our drive to Chicago; what could go wrong? I’ll tell you what: a trip to the ER.

When I got Zana out of her crib this morning, she winced in pain. I tried to get her dressed, more crying– and not just the cranky, sleepy kind. This was a painful cry. “It’s hurting, Mommy. It’s hurting.” Aren’t those your least favorite words? Well besides “uh-oh,” of course.

I figured out the pain had something to do with her arm when she couldn’t hold her own milk cup. Even putting on her favorite dress brought her to tears. I gave her some Tylenol and considered my options. The pediatrician? Urgent Care? The ER? I decided on ER because they have X-Ray equipment and I was pretty sure we’d need it.

The only time Zana stopped crying was when she held her arm completely still, and propped it up on something. I called Dave to let him know the deal, and I’m pretty sure he thought I was overreacting. Was I? At the next stop light I turned around and tried to hold her hand: more screaming. “You’re doing the right thing,” I reminded myself.

When we got to the ER, I walked her inside with her with her tiny, limp arm propped up on my shoulder. You know something’s wrong when she doesn’t even want to push the buttons on the elevator.

This was our second time at Children’s Hospital. Our first visit happened after Zana fell on the playground and had a golf ball-sized lump on her forehead. Both hospital trips have left me less-than-impressed. Nobody was very friendly or concerned, and they probably should be– it is an ER, after all. Plus, there’s a ridiculous amount of security (oh DC, how I love thee). Why do I have to wait in line to get a badge letting people know I’m there for the ER? Isn’t the crying baby with the gimpy arm enough?

As I asked myself why on earth I decided to come back here again, I got the reminder I needed… the doctors. The doctors at Children’s Hospital are a game changer. Today, a doctor looked at Zana in the waiting room within 20 minutes of us arriving. He immediately knew what was wrong: Nursemaids Elbow, also known as radial head subluxation (but that sounds terrible so we’ll stick with other one).

Wikipedia describes nursemaids elbow as “a dislocation of the elbow joint caused by a sudden pull on the extended pronated arm, such as by an adult tugging on an uncooperative child, or swinging the child by the arms during play.” Uncooperative child? Check. Swinging child by the arms during play? Check. So what I’m understanding is that it’s somehow my fault that my baby girl is in the hospital. Awesome.

Fortunately for my mommy-guilt complex, the doctor told me that this injury can also happen when a child is sleeping– like, if they roll over on their arm the wrong way. The treatment is a quick “pop” back into place and they’re good as new. Unless the “pop” doesn’t work… in which case we’ll need x-rays and the whole 9 yards.

Luckily, it worked! One minute, Zana was refusing a sticker because she couldn’t move her hand to grab it – the next she was high five-ing every Children’s employee, patient and security guard who walked by! A nurse gave her some Motrin and we were on our way. I couldn’t believe how fast all of it happened. There was still time left for me to make an appearance at work– which is a good thing, because Zana had an important meeting to lead.

We could only stay at work for an hour, then left to pick up my new Kindergartner, pack the car and start our journey west. All of this, before lunch…

The Amputation That Didn’t Happen

June 8, 2012 by momindcity 7 Comments

Rough day.

Grandma has been in a rehab center after a recent stroke and heart attack (yep, both). Recently, the doctors found a bone infection in her foot. After checking with Mom every day, including this morning, everything seemed ok—until I got a phone call from my brother. It’s never good when people call during work hours.

He told me the doctor decided that Grandma’s foot needed to be amputated and it needed to happen now. Or did he say it was her leg? I was too upset to think straight. I felt like I was drowning in the flood of emotions that came over me—the feeling was much more powerful than the pain after the events that sent her to the hospital in the first place.

Thinking about Grandma, lying in a hospital bed with only an hour to process the fact that her foot would be removed brought me to tears (and at work, no less). I reminded myself that doctors don’t make these decisions lightly. Surely, whatever they thought needed to be done was in her best interest; she barely walks; she’s in a wheelchair; at least it’s just her foot and he infection hasn’t taken over more of her body. But none of these things make it easier—not for me, and certainly not for her.

It got me thinking about life, old age, pain, dying– all of the things that are a part of our existence that we don’t like to dwell upon. It’s been on my mind a lot lately, though. I’ve got a Nana and a Grandma (Dave’s) who are ok physically but not mentally, and a Grandma (mine) who is 100% “with it” mentally but in horrible physical condition. Is one of these better than the other? Both are miserable in their own way.

I want to do something. To fix something. What would make Grandma feel better? Should I fly home tonight?

My phone vibrated with my next text update: “Doc is going to clean infected tissue. If needs to be amputated, it will be below the knee and probably months from now”

And just like that, the knot in my stomach loosened up a bit. An hour later, the next text message notified me that the procedure went well and that she will get a prescription and head back to the rehab center. This turn of events happened as quickly as the news itself. And I got to finish the afternoon without that looming feeling. I even got to speak with Grandma on the phone to tell her not to worry us like that ever again. Will there be an amputation in the coming months? Who knows? But we know it won’t happen today and I will choose to focus on this fact.

I thought about the run I took last night, and how it hurt so badly that I had to stop. I thought about how, next time I run, I won’t stop for the pain; I will remember that each step is a gift. I will run for Grandma.

Nana: Paving the Way for Future Hoarders

June 5, 2012 by momindcity 6 Comments

Remember all those cheesey 80s movies about going back in time? Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, Back to the Future, and the like?

Well, going to visit Dave’s parents is kind of like being in one of these movies, but without Michael J. Fox and Keanu Reeves.

We all laugh at Nana (behind her back, of course) for refusing to learn how to use a DVD player, text on a cell phone or work the digital thermostat. But it’s not just her allergic reaction to new technology that makes this place unique. Nana’s house is like walking into a time capsule that hasn’t changed since her kids were small.

Every toy, every book, every tiny piece of clothing is there. There are Barbies, board games, Slinkies, Snoopy’s Snow Cone Machine, and every original Berenstain Bear book. You name it and, it’s not only there, but in perfect working condition. All of her kids dress up clothes, their play clothes, their Christmas clothes. Every small item, all the way down to socks and hair bows.

Model: Zana, Outfit: Vintage (circa 1982)

I’ll admit, the first time I saw the pileup of “junk,” it reminded me of a bad episode of Hoarders– especially compared to the house I grew up in. I come from a big family (my dad was one of 10 and my mom was one of 6), and we were constantly sending our old toys and clothes to my cousins– especially the ones that lived in Kosovo. But also, my parents would give away the clothes off our backs– literally. They’d say things like:

“Give her that jacket. It will look great on her!”
“Go pack a bag of toys to send to so-and-so’s kids.”
“We’re out of Halloween candy; go get some toys out of your room for the trick-or-treaters.”
“You haven’t worn that shirt in weeks. Put it in the box for that girl that just moved into town.”

It wasn’t all bad. For one thing, my brothers and I were always getting new things to play with– but we could never get too attached.

Nana’s kids (Dave included) all seem to have acquired her nostalgic streak. And while I do enjoy a good trip back in time (especially if it’s in a Delorean), I won’t ever have those sentimental attachments. Just like my parents, I am constantly giving things away, and wanting to buy new ones.

Is one healthier than the other? Well duh– if I’m doing it, we all know it’s healthier. But at my house, I’m definitely outnumbered. Lira and Zana are hoarders in training. The only way to get rid of something of theirs is by sneaking it out of the house. Everything is their favorite. “Mom! Why did you throw that away? It’s my favorite bubble gum wrapper!”

So what’s a purger like me supposed to do with all of these things? Our storage facility is running out of space (thanks in part to a certain someone’s He-Man castle and Star Wars action figures). We live on the Hill so there’s no such thing as a closet or a garage. I can only think of one place for all of these things to go… a place where they will never be lost, unappreciated or forgotten, a place so full of memories that it puts a nursing home to shame. You know the place: Nana’s house.