An instant.
That’s all it takes.
You mommies out there know EXACTLY what I’m talking about.
That’s all it took this morning . . .
I woke up tired but became stressed when I discovered baby boy had a fever and Toddler girl royally woke up on the wrong side of her bed. It was a work day for me to head to the office—bad news: daddy would not be able to help get the kids ready or drop them off. More bad news—my hair was drenched in coconut oil that the night before I had brilliantly decided to sleep in for an extra special but now very inconvenient hair treatment. So, I showered while baby boy sipped his bottle in his crib and I continuously rubbed the steam off the shower door to keep a close eye on Toddler girl who was attempting to squeeze the entire contents of a lip-gloss tube and use it as a facial moisturizer.
Well, things can’t be that bad. Right? Right? That’s what I thought as I loaded the kids into the car. I strapped baby boy in first. He was screaming for his bottle. Then I lifted Toddler girl into the car and tell her to sit in her car seat and wait. She actually usually always listens. I’d be right back to strap her in. All I had to do was walk 10 feet from the garage to the hallway side table where I had left his bottle. But, a lot can happen in 30 seconds.
The hand sanitizer. That bottle that I had placed in the front seat JUST yesterday so I would remember to pack it in my bag—was not on the seat when I returned! It was suddenly in the back seat! And Toddler girl was climbing back into her seat, revealing she was up to something.
"What did you just do?" I asked Toddler girl, only for her to tell me she thought she would “wash” her baby brother’s face with it! "YOU DID WHAT!" It was smeared on his cheeks—and feet! He just sat there, the innocent victim, amused by the tingly cool sensation and the attention. The problem?
Just a few months ago I was forwarded an email warning that children can ingest hand sanitizer—all it takes is a few drops--and get poisoned from it. Since then I have been so extremely careful to keep it all out of their reach. (It's an interesting article to read and one to take into consideration.) Until now!
That feeling of dread weighed down in the pit of my stomach and intoxicated my mind, my heart, my body with fear. What if Baby boy got some sanitizer in his mouth? What if he’s poisoned? So I frantically investigated him head to toe—thankfully it didn’t appear so. I further interrogated Toddler girl—things were aligning. He appeared safe. But, the fact that Baby boy was already a bit lethargic with his fever only made me feel more anxiety that perhaps, no it couldn’t, but could it be that he got a drip on his mouth! My mind said he was completely fine. But my emotions ... well, if you didn't read the post about my brief hallucination of how Toddler girl's fall at the playground led to her detached arm, you should, and then imagine how much more I am freaking out in this moment.
Thankfully that was not the case. Baby boy was fine. I am EXTREMELY thankful and relieved. This was another learning experience--I have since banished the hand sanitizer from the car. And, I have resolved to NEVER leave Toddler girl in the car unstrapped---until she is 18! I wonder if they make car seats big enough for teenagers? And, by the way, I did have to leave work early and bring baby boy to the doctor—thankfully it was not a return of his ear infection, but just a virus. Though I’m hoping it’s only teething.
So overall, Thursday, gets the award for my most stressful day of the week. And that's a good thing, because it means tomorrow can only get better. Right? Right! Happy Friday Everyone : ) Hoping it’s a peaceful start to a great weekend for you all.
Do you have hand sanitizer in your car or diaper bag? If not where do you keep it? OR what do you use to fend off the germs.
Like my blog? Support me by voting to the right of this post. It only takes a click and it makes my day. We're still #2 in humor and a few votes shy of being in the top 25 overall in the Top Mommy Blog Directory.
Posted by Laura
Showing posts with label toddlers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label toddlers. Show all posts
May 21, 2010
May 19, 2010
A Mommy's Work Resume
Today is my last post participating in Momalom's 5 for 10. The topic is "Yes." Have you ever considered how many job descriptions a woman takes on when she says "yes" to becoming a mother?
At work I was instructed I needed to update my resume. My resume! A lot has happened in the past three years! So I sat there at my computer screen wondering: Can I add that I have changed over 10,000 diapers? Birthed two heads more lethal than a wrecking ball? Contained more poopie eruptions than an active volcano—in the car, the middle of Target, and in (deep sigh) the bathtub! Functioned as a human tissue? Tamed more temper tantrums than a human resources manager, boxing referee, and zookeeper combined! Perhaps it is time to create a new resume of my own! One that applies to all us mommies out there. Ahem, here we go:
MY MOMMY RESUME
CONTACT: Find me anywhere you hear or see children; sometimes I wear them too.
EDUCATION
University of Real Life, Toddlerland
BA, Birthing Another
MA, Mothering Another
PHD, Praying hard daily, how else do you survive the BA and MA?
HONORS/AWARDS Finalist in the Semi Annual “My Baby Can Scream Louder Than Yours So-Please-Help-Me Jesus contest”; The Nursing-Mother’s “So This is What it’s Like to be a Cow” Award; “I’ve Sniff Bottoms More Frequently than a Custom’s Canine” First Place; “My Baby’s Head is a Lethal Weapon and I Survived Sleeping Next to it” Honorable Mention; Qualified to join the “I Abused my Diaper Bag to the Point it Exploded” Club. I write my own awards.
EXPERIENCE
Chief Household Officer (CHO), To see a full list of my daily responsibilities click HERE.
Hazmat Specialist, I consistently identify, quarantine, and properly dispose of more hazardous waste in one week than an entire hazmat team in a year.
Translator, I am fluent and proficient in translating Toddlerese.
Teacher, my curriculum widely covers everything from the basics to those deep questions in life such as: “What’s that?” “Where did it come from?” and “Why Mommy?”
Personal Chef, I not only prepare and serve three meals a day, but snack times too.
Stylist, this includes everything from hair to socks and clothing. In addition I have had to give several lessons in what NOT to wear to my 2YO including the “No, we don’t wear a bathing suit over our dress” and “No, we don’t wear our Dora-the-Explorer Costume to church.”
On-Call Nurse, I’m told my kisses aid in the healing booboos
Professional Gift Wrapper, my clients specialize in making their own unique “presents” multiple times daily. I excel at quickly, and carefully wrapping these gifts with many layers of plastic one handed, and sometimes at night with only one eye open, all while holding my breath for very long periods of time.
Potty Training Doula, I’ve coached my patients in birthing more poopies, than a pediatrics ward has babies.
Driver & Tour Guide, encouraging safety first, I personally lift each client into his/her seat and assist them getting their entire body strapped into the car all while serenading them with many popular songs, such as “Twinkle little start,” though out the drive. I even narrate and give detailed descriptions of the various locations we pass through.
Wrestler, how else do you suppose I would get my youngest opponent diapered, bathed, dressed, and fed?
Heavy Weight Lifting Champion, yes, that’s what I call someone who functions throughout the day while carrying two human beings under each arm pit, keeping in mind that after the first five minutes, everything becomes heavy.
Surgeon and Real-life “Operation Game” Champion, who needs that game of Operation when one can extract play dough, Cheerios, penne pasta, and crayons out of a moving target’s nose—This brings the careful navigation of a surgeon’s swift steady hand to a whole new level.
Personal Shopper, in addition to helping my clients choose the best products on the market, my clients enjoy a joy ride being pushed in the top front of the shopping cart.
Professional Entertainer, I write my own music, performing original songs for all daily activities such as “This is how we wash our hands” and “This is how we get strapped in the car.”
Story Telling Specialist, I can recite “Brown Bear” and “Good Night Gorilla” by heart, backwards, forwards, and in my sleep. That’s what happens when you’re asked to tell the same story over and over and over again.
Dental Hygienist, while brushing my patients teeth, offer two flavors of tooth paste, including the fluoride free bubble gum and fruit punch, I even sing the “this is how we brush our teeth song” to my patients!
Photographer, I capture that perfect shot of my clients. Yes, I do just about anything to get them to smile, including bribery, praise, and making a complete utter fool out of myself.
Inventor, I have used the diaper wipe to do all things, everything from wiping bottoms, noses, cleaning stains of carpets, shirts, cleaning the couch, to cleaning the baseboards of the house to functioning as earplugs. Desperate moments call for creative measures.
House Cleaner, it’s a tough job but somebody’s got to do it.
Police Officer, I excel at giving warnings, I’m the Time-Out enforcer, and have been told my facial expressions alone instill the fear of God in the disobedient.
Personal Coach, I give more encouragement and stickers than Santa Clause presents.
Dry Cleaner, While I do wash, dry, fold, and put away all the laundry, I do NOT do the actual dry cleaning; I just drop it off. Hey, I guess I can’t be all things to all people after all. You can’t say yes all the time. Just don't tell my italian Granmother this, and we'll all be just fine ; )
SPECIAL TALENTS
Multitasking Expert, I can nurse a baby while talking on the phone, updating my facebook status, sipping sweet tea, changing the channel on the TV, and chasing after my 2YO—all at the same time.
Mr Poopie Assailant
Have anything to add to the list above? Please share.
Like my blog? Support me by voting by clicking right, follow me on twitter, and come back!
Posted by Laura
At work I was instructed I needed to update my resume. My resume! A lot has happened in the past three years! So I sat there at my computer screen wondering: Can I add that I have changed over 10,000 diapers? Birthed two heads more lethal than a wrecking ball? Contained more poopie eruptions than an active volcano—in the car, the middle of Target, and in (deep sigh) the bathtub! Functioned as a human tissue? Tamed more temper tantrums than a human resources manager, boxing referee, and zookeeper combined! Perhaps it is time to create a new resume of my own! One that applies to all us mommies out there. Ahem, here we go:
MY MOMMY RESUME
CONTACT: Find me anywhere you hear or see children; sometimes I wear them too.
EDUCATION
University of Real Life, Toddlerland
BA, Birthing Another
MA, Mothering Another
PHD, Praying hard daily, how else do you survive the BA and MA?
HONORS/AWARDS Finalist in the Semi Annual “My Baby Can Scream Louder Than Yours So-Please-Help-Me Jesus contest”; The Nursing-Mother’s “So This is What it’s Like to be a Cow” Award; “I’ve Sniff Bottoms More Frequently than a Custom’s Canine” First Place; “My Baby’s Head is a Lethal Weapon and I Survived Sleeping Next to it” Honorable Mention; Qualified to join the “I Abused my Diaper Bag to the Point it Exploded” Club. I write my own awards.
EXPERIENCE
Chief Household Officer (CHO), To see a full list of my daily responsibilities click HERE.
Hazmat Specialist, I consistently identify, quarantine, and properly dispose of more hazardous waste in one week than an entire hazmat team in a year.
Translator, I am fluent and proficient in translating Toddlerese.
Teacher, my curriculum widely covers everything from the basics to those deep questions in life such as: “What’s that?” “Where did it come from?” and “Why Mommy?”
Personal Chef, I not only prepare and serve three meals a day, but snack times too.
Stylist, this includes everything from hair to socks and clothing. In addition I have had to give several lessons in what NOT to wear to my 2YO including the “No, we don’t wear a bathing suit over our dress” and “No, we don’t wear our Dora-the-Explorer Costume to church.”
On-Call Nurse, I’m told my kisses aid in the healing booboos
Professional Gift Wrapper, my clients specialize in making their own unique “presents” multiple times daily. I excel at quickly, and carefully wrapping these gifts with many layers of plastic one handed, and sometimes at night with only one eye open, all while holding my breath for very long periods of time.
Potty Training Doula, I’ve coached my patients in birthing more poopies, than a pediatrics ward has babies.
Driver & Tour Guide, encouraging safety first, I personally lift each client into his/her seat and assist them getting their entire body strapped into the car all while serenading them with many popular songs, such as “Twinkle little start,” though out the drive. I even narrate and give detailed descriptions of the various locations we pass through.
Wrestler, how else do you suppose I would get my youngest opponent diapered, bathed, dressed, and fed?
Heavy Weight Lifting Champion, yes, that’s what I call someone who functions throughout the day while carrying two human beings under each arm pit, keeping in mind that after the first five minutes, everything becomes heavy.
Surgeon and Real-life “Operation Game” Champion, who needs that game of Operation when one can extract play dough, Cheerios, penne pasta, and crayons out of a moving target’s nose—This brings the careful navigation of a surgeon’s swift steady hand to a whole new level.
Personal Shopper, in addition to helping my clients choose the best products on the market, my clients enjoy a joy ride being pushed in the top front of the shopping cart.
Professional Entertainer, I write my own music, performing original songs for all daily activities such as “This is how we wash our hands” and “This is how we get strapped in the car.”
Story Telling Specialist, I can recite “Brown Bear” and “Good Night Gorilla” by heart, backwards, forwards, and in my sleep. That’s what happens when you’re asked to tell the same story over and over and over again.
Dental Hygienist, while brushing my patients teeth, offer two flavors of tooth paste, including the fluoride free bubble gum and fruit punch, I even sing the “this is how we brush our teeth song” to my patients!
Photographer, I capture that perfect shot of my clients. Yes, I do just about anything to get them to smile, including bribery, praise, and making a complete utter fool out of myself.
Inventor, I have used the diaper wipe to do all things, everything from wiping bottoms, noses, cleaning stains of carpets, shirts, cleaning the couch, to cleaning the baseboards of the house to functioning as earplugs. Desperate moments call for creative measures.
House Cleaner, it’s a tough job but somebody’s got to do it.
Police Officer, I excel at giving warnings, I’m the Time-Out enforcer, and have been told my facial expressions alone instill the fear of God in the disobedient.
Personal Coach, I give more encouragement and stickers than Santa Clause presents.
Dry Cleaner, While I do wash, dry, fold, and put away all the laundry, I do NOT do the actual dry cleaning; I just drop it off. Hey, I guess I can’t be all things to all people after all. You can’t say yes all the time. Just don't tell my italian Granmother this, and we'll all be just fine ; )
SPECIAL TALENTS
Multitasking Expert, I can nurse a baby while talking on the phone, updating my facebook status, sipping sweet tea, changing the channel on the TV, and chasing after my 2YO—all at the same time.
Mr Poopie Assailant
Have anything to add to the list above? Please share.
Like my blog? Support me by voting by clicking right, follow me on twitter, and come back!
Posted by Laura
May 10, 2010
On How to Make Mommy Pee
Dear Toddler girl,
Hi there, it’s your friend Mr. Peepee. Yes, it is very dark outside—but it’s morning time and you can get up now. Oh, come on, I really am your friend. Ok, sorry I got you in trouble for following you across the living room carpet last week—hey, Mommy needs to learn these messes are no big deal especially when over at a friend’s house! Hey, that wasn’t half as bad as when your brother invited me to fly across his bedroom onto the dresser mirror last month! Really. Trust me. Anyway, I have a fun activity for you this morning. Yes, this is something Mommy is going to absolutely scream her head off with excitement this morning . . . Wanna help?
Okay, it’s quite simple. Just go and grab that shiny blue container of dental floss. Yes, the one right there on Mommy’s bathroom counter. Shhhhhh. Be quiet. Not time to wake her just yet. Got it? Okay, now go unravel just a little bit and go dangle that white thread above and across Mommy’s face! Just lightly. Yes, I know she’s sleeping right now, but that’s the point! Oh good, I see you’ve quietly climbed onto her bed to do this. Trust me, she’s going to LOVE the way this feels.
Yes! Yes! You have the hang of it now. What? Oh, why is Mommy scrunching up her face? That’s because she really is enjoying this! Yes, look at the way she is slapping her cheeks with enthusiasm! Okay, now when Mommy screams as though she is being attacked—that is when you are going to ask her to floss your teeth. No, Mommy’s not screaming because she thinks a tarantula is shriveling its way across her skin. Trust me she’s slapping her face because she’s so proud of you for wanting to keep your teeth clean. And the screaming as though she’s dying? That’s because I’m about to make a surprise visit to her in her sleep!
Your pal,
Mr. Peepee
P.S.—If you thought that made her pee, just wait till she finds out she’s officially off the waiting list at the 2010 NYC Blogher conference. She and I are going to be best buds!
Yes, it's official. I'm going to blogher! Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay! I can't wait to meet so many awesome women! And, learn and share with you the experience. Let me know if you're going. And if not, what you want me to tell you about it.
Want to support my blog? Becoming a follower and vote for me to the top right of this post! We’re #2 in humor.
Posted by Laura
Hi there, it’s your friend Mr. Peepee. Yes, it is very dark outside—but it’s morning time and you can get up now. Oh, come on, I really am your friend. Ok, sorry I got you in trouble for following you across the living room carpet last week—hey, Mommy needs to learn these messes are no big deal especially when over at a friend’s house! Hey, that wasn’t half as bad as when your brother invited me to fly across his bedroom onto the dresser mirror last month! Really. Trust me. Anyway, I have a fun activity for you this morning. Yes, this is something Mommy is going to absolutely scream her head off with excitement this morning . . . Wanna help?
Okay, it’s quite simple. Just go and grab that shiny blue container of dental floss. Yes, the one right there on Mommy’s bathroom counter. Shhhhhh. Be quiet. Not time to wake her just yet. Got it? Okay, now go unravel just a little bit and go dangle that white thread above and across Mommy’s face! Just lightly. Yes, I know she’s sleeping right now, but that’s the point! Oh good, I see you’ve quietly climbed onto her bed to do this. Trust me, she’s going to LOVE the way this feels.
Yes! Yes! You have the hang of it now. What? Oh, why is Mommy scrunching up her face? That’s because she really is enjoying this! Yes, look at the way she is slapping her cheeks with enthusiasm! Okay, now when Mommy screams as though she is being attacked—that is when you are going to ask her to floss your teeth. No, Mommy’s not screaming because she thinks a tarantula is shriveling its way across her skin. Trust me she’s slapping her face because she’s so proud of you for wanting to keep your teeth clean. And the screaming as though she’s dying? That’s because I’m about to make a surprise visit to her in her sleep!
Your pal,
Mr. Peepee
P.S.—If you thought that made her pee, just wait till she finds out she’s officially off the waiting list at the 2010 NYC Blogher conference. She and I are going to be best buds!
Yes, it's official. I'm going to blogher! Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay! I can't wait to meet so many awesome women! And, learn and share with you the experience. Let me know if you're going. And if not, what you want me to tell you about it.
Want to support my blog? Becoming a follower and vote for me to the top right of this post! We’re #2 in humor.
Posted by Laura
May 5, 2010
Womb for Rent? Baby Wants His Bachelor Pad!
Distorted sleeping arrangements while on a family vacation led me to a teeny tiny bed where I attempted to snuggle up to a wild baby boy who was dreaming of fighting a war and mommy was trapped in the battle! Thus came my guest post yesterday at Mommy Monologues on the hazards of sleeping with baby. But there is one more baby sleep fantasy yet to be exposed. And this is a big one. I didn’t realize it until the last night of our vacation . . .
All through a sleepless night baby boy was hacking a cough all over me. So I turned my back to him in efforts to inhale a clean breath of phlegm-free air. What does he do? He gets into fetal position and digs his feet into my back. I try sliding over a bit to give my myself more room, but he’s inching closer and closer, pressing his pointy toes deeper and deeper into my spine until I’m almost falling off the edge of the bed. I think to myself, “Child, you can’t climb back in my uterus that way!” and that is when the revelation struck me: baby is attempting what is perhaps the greatest baby sleep fantasy of all—crawling back into that perfect warm place of his beginnings. Surely and steadily, baby's plotting to find a way to make mommy’s womb once again open for rent!
Think about it! Why is it that once baby is born he’s suddenly slurping spit up on Mommy’s new blouse, shrieking at pitches that just might pop an ear drum, exploding poop across a room at forces that just might dent the walls! It’s time to face the facts, ladies! Baby don’t like the cold, stark, new housing arrangements, and he’s trying to make mommy miserable enough to reverse that 9-month-eviction policy. He’s got plans of his own.
Consider this: For 9 months, baby had the perfect bachelor pad! There was no need to put forth so much effort to move when you're floating in weightlessness. Oh the ambiance was just perfect: no harsh noises, no blinding lights, the perfect warm temperature comparable to that of laying in the sun at the beach, but even better! No need for sunscreen. No need for scratchy clothes. Nothing to disturb his sleep. To top it off, it was a place that never needing cleaning or cooking or where he had to eat that yucky baby jar food, or worse, encounter random big-headed people with bad breath who invade his personal space and say things like, “My what chubby cheeks you have!” or “My, aren’t you gassy!” and “Oh look at that little cone head!” Baby had 9 months of freedom! There were no rules, no interruptions, no invasion of privacy, no cold wipes, and there definitely wasn’t that unending list of a mommy’s most frequently used word--NO! He goes from complete independence to being told when to eat, sleep, what to wear, and where to poop! Surely life was better BEFORE that catastrophic day when an earthquake sent him sliding and gliding out of his home! (And don’t we all wish it was as easy as that sounds!)
Let’s face it Mommies, can you blame baby? The problem lies in the fact that Mommy's womb is just plain AWESOME! Mommy’s womb was the ultimate jungle gym that he could climb the walls by simply rotating in circles without ever falling. Mommy’s womb was the ferris wheel at the fair that would go round and round but—no tickets needed. Mommy’s womb was the spa, a whirlpool of soothing warm water without a time limit or needing to leave a tip! Mommy’s womb was an unending adventure, where he could swing on that umbilical cord, playing Tarzan, King Kong, and Spiderman all in the same day! Mommy’s womb even came equipped with its own surround sound system and proved to not only be a comfy home but a really awesome ride--no need to pay for fuel--that's Mommy's job. Finally, the best part of Mommy’s womb was that it meant being constantly closest to Mommy; cause after all, he might be the smallest love bug, but he's surely is your greatest fan.
So, Mommies, baby wants the bachelor pad back and yes, it’s the greatest hindrance to our sleep but its also one of the greatest compliments in life! Had we not done such a great job growing a human being in our bellies for 9 months, packing on those extra pounds of loving, enduring stretch marks, nausea, fatigue, swelling, aches, a complete body transformation, and of course all those well-meaning-but-rude remarks about how cute you look when you waddle, baby might not want to go back to the place of his roots. And so, be forewarned before you try snuggling with baby: he’s gonna try to move back in and will do a number on your stats in sleep deprivation. Well, there’s only one way to fight this ultimate baby fantasy: just give it some more time--oh, it's that painful word--PATIENCE! Soon enough, baby's gonna realize it’s even better being in your arms, sitting on your lap, feeling your kisses, and staring into your warm eyes. When that day comes you just might get your sleep! But (sigh) you know what comes next. The desire for independence isn't going away. Before you know it he’ll be (gasp!) going off to college seeking a place of his own! On that day, Mommy just might wonder if he can earn his degree while still swinging from that umbilical cord--rent free!
Comments anyone?
Thanks for your continued voting for me in the top mommy blogs by clicking right of this post. We’re #2 in humor.
Posted by Laura
All through a sleepless night baby boy was hacking a cough all over me. So I turned my back to him in efforts to inhale a clean breath of phlegm-free air. What does he do? He gets into fetal position and digs his feet into my back. I try sliding over a bit to give my myself more room, but he’s inching closer and closer, pressing his pointy toes deeper and deeper into my spine until I’m almost falling off the edge of the bed. I think to myself, “Child, you can’t climb back in my uterus that way!” and that is when the revelation struck me: baby is attempting what is perhaps the greatest baby sleep fantasy of all—crawling back into that perfect warm place of his beginnings. Surely and steadily, baby's plotting to find a way to make mommy’s womb once again open for rent!
Think about it! Why is it that once baby is born he’s suddenly slurping spit up on Mommy’s new blouse, shrieking at pitches that just might pop an ear drum, exploding poop across a room at forces that just might dent the walls! It’s time to face the facts, ladies! Baby don’t like the cold, stark, new housing arrangements, and he’s trying to make mommy miserable enough to reverse that 9-month-eviction policy. He’s got plans of his own.
Consider this: For 9 months, baby had the perfect bachelor pad! There was no need to put forth so much effort to move when you're floating in weightlessness. Oh the ambiance was just perfect: no harsh noises, no blinding lights, the perfect warm temperature comparable to that of laying in the sun at the beach, but even better! No need for sunscreen. No need for scratchy clothes. Nothing to disturb his sleep. To top it off, it was a place that never needing cleaning or cooking or where he had to eat that yucky baby jar food, or worse, encounter random big-headed people with bad breath who invade his personal space and say things like, “My what chubby cheeks you have!” or “My, aren’t you gassy!” and “Oh look at that little cone head!” Baby had 9 months of freedom! There were no rules, no interruptions, no invasion of privacy, no cold wipes, and there definitely wasn’t that unending list of a mommy’s most frequently used word--NO! He goes from complete independence to being told when to eat, sleep, what to wear, and where to poop! Surely life was better BEFORE that catastrophic day when an earthquake sent him sliding and gliding out of his home! (And don’t we all wish it was as easy as that sounds!)
Let’s face it Mommies, can you blame baby? The problem lies in the fact that Mommy's womb is just plain AWESOME! Mommy’s womb was the ultimate jungle gym that he could climb the walls by simply rotating in circles without ever falling. Mommy’s womb was the ferris wheel at the fair that would go round and round but—no tickets needed. Mommy’s womb was the spa, a whirlpool of soothing warm water without a time limit or needing to leave a tip! Mommy’s womb was an unending adventure, where he could swing on that umbilical cord, playing Tarzan, King Kong, and Spiderman all in the same day! Mommy’s womb even came equipped with its own surround sound system and proved to not only be a comfy home but a really awesome ride--no need to pay for fuel--that's Mommy's job. Finally, the best part of Mommy’s womb was that it meant being constantly closest to Mommy; cause after all, he might be the smallest love bug, but he's surely is your greatest fan.
So, Mommies, baby wants the bachelor pad back and yes, it’s the greatest hindrance to our sleep but its also one of the greatest compliments in life! Had we not done such a great job growing a human being in our bellies for 9 months, packing on those extra pounds of loving, enduring stretch marks, nausea, fatigue, swelling, aches, a complete body transformation, and of course all those well-meaning-but-rude remarks about how cute you look when you waddle, baby might not want to go back to the place of his roots. And so, be forewarned before you try snuggling with baby: he’s gonna try to move back in and will do a number on your stats in sleep deprivation. Well, there’s only one way to fight this ultimate baby fantasy: just give it some more time--oh, it's that painful word--PATIENCE! Soon enough, baby's gonna realize it’s even better being in your arms, sitting on your lap, feeling your kisses, and staring into your warm eyes. When that day comes you just might get your sleep! But (sigh) you know what comes next. The desire for independence isn't going away. Before you know it he’ll be (gasp!) going off to college seeking a place of his own! On that day, Mommy just might wonder if he can earn his degree while still swinging from that umbilical cord--rent free!
Comments anyone?
Thanks for your continued voting for me in the top mommy blogs by clicking right of this post. We’re #2 in humor.
Posted by Laura
Baby Sleep Fantasies Exposed: The Dangers of Sleeping with Baby
Today I'm really excited to share that I will be guest posting for a great mommy blogging friend of mine, Kate @ mommy monologues. Kate, like me, is relatively new to the blogging world and has already built herself quite a following. Can you blame us? She's hillarious, encouraging, entertaining, and honest! Not to mention proof that you CAN make real mommy friends in the bloggy world, even when you fear stalkers.
So please, go there and comment! Share the love. My post is about exposing the dangers of sleeping with baby. And no, I'm not talking about the dangers to baby! Sleeping with baby can be a real Hazard to MOMMY! That's something the doctor failed to warn me about. That's something that I learned new dangers while forced to share a bed with the toddlers while on vacation at the beach last week. I really have some battle wounds to show for myself now! Click here to find out my TOP FIVE LIST!
Thanks again Kate for the opportunity to share such an important warning on your blog!
Posted by Laura
So please, go there and comment! Share the love. My post is about exposing the dangers of sleeping with baby. And no, I'm not talking about the dangers to baby! Sleeping with baby can be a real Hazard to MOMMY! That's something the doctor failed to warn me about. That's something that I learned new dangers while forced to share a bed with the toddlers while on vacation at the beach last week. I really have some battle wounds to show for myself now! Click here to find out my TOP FIVE LIST!
Thanks again Kate for the opportunity to share such an important warning on your blog!
Posted by Laura
May 4, 2010
URGENT CARE-LESS: When the Doctor Wants to Wash Her Hands of Mommy
It was our last day of vacation when we rushed baby boy back to the Urgent Care doctor because he developed a rash while on antibiotics for his ear infection. I expected it NOT to be a big deal. YES, rashes and antibiotics can mean an allergic reaction to the medicine, which can be serious. The thing is, he developed the rash after being in the sun and it went away within 15 minutes of appearing—long enough for us to have noticed it, called the doc, and driven down the road to the Urgent care for what turned into a roller coaster ride of the unexpected.
By the time the doctor walked into the room, the rash was completely gone. Phew! It must have been the sun after-all. Well, the Urgent care Doctor had other thoughts:
The doctor walks in the room pressing her clipboard to her chest with crossed arms. She glares at me, with those same squinting, beady eyes that whipped me the day before when she arrogantly accused me of causing my son’s ear infection because I had stopped breastfeeding him at 10 months. Without even looking at our baby to see that the rash we called about was now gone, she declares in the most unsympathetic voice, “Your baby has a febrile illness and you need to take him to the ER!”
Febrile illness! What the heck is that! It sounded like some spinal disease that was life threatening. My heart contracted to the point of bursting in my chest.
“What is a febrile illness?” I manage to ask, taking a deep gasp of thick stale office air.
“A febrile illness is a fever!” She explains, rolling her eyes as though I am the most ignorant person on the planet.
“What!” I think. Why are you trying to throw a fancy medical term at me? Just say fever. Okay, I can breathe again. It is only a fever!
“SO, because your child has a febrile illness, you need to take him to the ER NOW” and she spins around ready to leave the room, her hair nearly slapping me in the face.
“Wait. I am confused. I was here yesterday, you diagnosed baby with an ear infection. He had a fever yesterday. We are here today because he had a rash, which went away 15 minutes after appearing. His fever is better today. So, why are you telling me to go to the ER?”
“You need the ER because of the febrile illness! He will need chest x-rays, blood cultures, urine screening. I cannot offer that here in urgent care.”
Then in her annoyance, she asks me, “Why don’t you want to take your sick child to the ER, Mommy!”
Why don’t I want to take my child to the ER! Surely this woman knows NOTHING about me. She hasn’t read this or this and she surely doesn’t know about my horror story of the night I had to spend in the ER last year when I had an emergency appendectomy—I’ll have to share more on that in a future post. Let’s just say they put me next to diarrhea man, with only a shower curtain separating our “rooms,” and yes, I had my infant with me because I was nursing him and had no stored breast milk, and yes, after the nurse goes in between both of our “rooms” they decide to quarantine him! AFTER coming into my room where I have a newborn infant with me. And NO there was NOT even a full wall of curtain separating us. I heard every groan he made, yes, you could smell everything, and all I could think was please let this virus NOT be airborne! Okay, breathe again. Let me compose myself here to continue …
So I reply to her politely but firmly: “I’m just not understanding what has changed since yesterday. You diagnosed him with an ear infection, which is why he had a fever. He’s on an antibiotic that was working fine. We only brought him in here because of the rash, but the rash went away, so it looks like it’s not a rash from the antibiotic because it left so suddenly. Also, unless it is absolutely necessary I like to avoid the ER because I don’t want to expose my child to more germs.”
“It is MY LEGAL, Professional, medical opinion, that you go to the ER,” she fires!
“But can you help me understand? I like to look at this as a point of learning because I also have a 2YO at home. So, they have fevers occasionally, as all children do. What warrants this situation, this fever, that I should take him to the ER?”
Well, that was the end of her explaining. Every other question that I asked was answered with the following broken record recording:
“It is MY LEGAL, Professional, medical opinion, that you go to the ER.”
“It is MY LEGAL, Professional, medical opinion, that you go to the ER.”
“It is MY LEGAL, Professional, medical opinion, that you go to the ER.”
Then, at the end of our discussion, she changes her mind and says that instead of going to the ER she will call the nearest pediatrician for us to bring baby to that office instead.
Translation: I’m having second guesses on my diagnosis. So go to the ER or at least somewhere else so we can ensure nothing goes wrong and you don’t sue me. No, I don’t know what I’m talking about. But if you continue to ask more questions I will continue to use the term “febrile illness” as though it is tuberculosis or cancer and will continue to make you feel like a lazy mother who just wants to avoid the inconvenience of taking her sick baby to the ER while on her vacation.
So what happens? Everything in me is telling me that for whatever reason she has decided to freak out on me and doesn’t want to be held responsible if she made a mistake somewhere and is telling me to go elsewhere so she can wash her hands of the situation. My motherly instinct says baby is completely fine. The rash went away, just go home: his fever is even gone now, rash is gone, he’s doing well on antibiotics, so go home and enjoy the last day of your beach vacation. BUT, the mind and emotions don’t always come into alignment. In my emotions I’m in complete turmoil. I mean a doctor is telling me to go to the ER, shouldn’t I listen? Surely I don’t know better than a doctor!
So, we end up driving 30 minutes away into the next town to the nearest pediatrician office that the Urgent care doctor set up for us to meet with. What does the pediatrician say?
He says baby boy is FINE! The ear infection is a nasty one, but just keep on with the antibiotics because it is helping. NO, pediatrician says, the rash was NOT a reaction to the antibiotics because if it were it would have lasted longer. It wouldn’t have disappeared within 15 minutes, especially because the antibiotic baby is on is one that stays in one’s system for days. So if he were really having an allergic reaction it would still be going on. Well, what about the urine cultures or chest x-rays? Pediatrician says NOT necessary. Because baby is on antibiotics even if they did a urine or blood culture it would come up negative because he’s on antibiotics, so there wouldn’t be any bacteria.
So as it turns out, the best way to freak out your urgent care doctor is to bring your baby back the day after she prescribed an antibiotic to treat baby’s ear infection and tell her your baby has a rash. But, now, be forewarned, because the doctor will reciprocate the favor, freaking out Mommy by demanding that you take baby to the ER to get treated for blood tests, urine cultures, and chest x-rays. Well, that is if you have the doctor we saw.
What’s your urgent care horror story? What would you have done?
Thanks for your continued voting for me in the top mommy blogs. We’re a few votes shy of being in the top 25 overall and are the #2 humor blog. So, keep the votes coming, 1 per day.
Posted by Laura
By the time the doctor walked into the room, the rash was completely gone. Phew! It must have been the sun after-all. Well, the Urgent care Doctor had other thoughts:
The doctor walks in the room pressing her clipboard to her chest with crossed arms. She glares at me, with those same squinting, beady eyes that whipped me the day before when she arrogantly accused me of causing my son’s ear infection because I had stopped breastfeeding him at 10 months. Without even looking at our baby to see that the rash we called about was now gone, she declares in the most unsympathetic voice, “Your baby has a febrile illness and you need to take him to the ER!”
Febrile illness! What the heck is that! It sounded like some spinal disease that was life threatening. My heart contracted to the point of bursting in my chest.
“What is a febrile illness?” I manage to ask, taking a deep gasp of thick stale office air.
“A febrile illness is a fever!” She explains, rolling her eyes as though I am the most ignorant person on the planet.
“What!” I think. Why are you trying to throw a fancy medical term at me? Just say fever. Okay, I can breathe again. It is only a fever!
“SO, because your child has a febrile illness, you need to take him to the ER NOW” and she spins around ready to leave the room, her hair nearly slapping me in the face.
“Wait. I am confused. I was here yesterday, you diagnosed baby with an ear infection. He had a fever yesterday. We are here today because he had a rash, which went away 15 minutes after appearing. His fever is better today. So, why are you telling me to go to the ER?”
“You need the ER because of the febrile illness! He will need chest x-rays, blood cultures, urine screening. I cannot offer that here in urgent care.”
Then in her annoyance, she asks me, “Why don’t you want to take your sick child to the ER, Mommy!”
Why don’t I want to take my child to the ER! Surely this woman knows NOTHING about me. She hasn’t read this or this and she surely doesn’t know about my horror story of the night I had to spend in the ER last year when I had an emergency appendectomy—I’ll have to share more on that in a future post. Let’s just say they put me next to diarrhea man, with only a shower curtain separating our “rooms,” and yes, I had my infant with me because I was nursing him and had no stored breast milk, and yes, after the nurse goes in between both of our “rooms” they decide to quarantine him! AFTER coming into my room where I have a newborn infant with me. And NO there was NOT even a full wall of curtain separating us. I heard every groan he made, yes, you could smell everything, and all I could think was please let this virus NOT be airborne! Okay, breathe again. Let me compose myself here to continue …
So I reply to her politely but firmly: “I’m just not understanding what has changed since yesterday. You diagnosed him with an ear infection, which is why he had a fever. He’s on an antibiotic that was working fine. We only brought him in here because of the rash, but the rash went away, so it looks like it’s not a rash from the antibiotic because it left so suddenly. Also, unless it is absolutely necessary I like to avoid the ER because I don’t want to expose my child to more germs.”
“It is MY LEGAL, Professional, medical opinion, that you go to the ER,” she fires!
“But can you help me understand? I like to look at this as a point of learning because I also have a 2YO at home. So, they have fevers occasionally, as all children do. What warrants this situation, this fever, that I should take him to the ER?”
Well, that was the end of her explaining. Every other question that I asked was answered with the following broken record recording:
“It is MY LEGAL, Professional, medical opinion, that you go to the ER.”
“It is MY LEGAL, Professional, medical opinion, that you go to the ER.”
“It is MY LEGAL, Professional, medical opinion, that you go to the ER.”
Then, at the end of our discussion, she changes her mind and says that instead of going to the ER she will call the nearest pediatrician for us to bring baby to that office instead.
Translation: I’m having second guesses on my diagnosis. So go to the ER or at least somewhere else so we can ensure nothing goes wrong and you don’t sue me. No, I don’t know what I’m talking about. But if you continue to ask more questions I will continue to use the term “febrile illness” as though it is tuberculosis or cancer and will continue to make you feel like a lazy mother who just wants to avoid the inconvenience of taking her sick baby to the ER while on her vacation.
So what happens? Everything in me is telling me that for whatever reason she has decided to freak out on me and doesn’t want to be held responsible if she made a mistake somewhere and is telling me to go elsewhere so she can wash her hands of the situation. My motherly instinct says baby is completely fine. The rash went away, just go home: his fever is even gone now, rash is gone, he’s doing well on antibiotics, so go home and enjoy the last day of your beach vacation. BUT, the mind and emotions don’t always come into alignment. In my emotions I’m in complete turmoil. I mean a doctor is telling me to go to the ER, shouldn’t I listen? Surely I don’t know better than a doctor!
So, we end up driving 30 minutes away into the next town to the nearest pediatrician office that the Urgent care doctor set up for us to meet with. What does the pediatrician say?
He says baby boy is FINE! The ear infection is a nasty one, but just keep on with the antibiotics because it is helping. NO, pediatrician says, the rash was NOT a reaction to the antibiotics because if it were it would have lasted longer. It wouldn’t have disappeared within 15 minutes, especially because the antibiotic baby is on is one that stays in one’s system for days. So if he were really having an allergic reaction it would still be going on. Well, what about the urine cultures or chest x-rays? Pediatrician says NOT necessary. Because baby is on antibiotics even if they did a urine or blood culture it would come up negative because he’s on antibiotics, so there wouldn’t be any bacteria.
So as it turns out, the best way to freak out your urgent care doctor is to bring your baby back the day after she prescribed an antibiotic to treat baby’s ear infection and tell her your baby has a rash. But, now, be forewarned, because the doctor will reciprocate the favor, freaking out Mommy by demanding that you take baby to the ER to get treated for blood tests, urine cultures, and chest x-rays. Well, that is if you have the doctor we saw.
What’s your urgent care horror story? What would you have done?
Thanks for your continued voting for me in the top mommy blogs. We’re a few votes shy of being in the top 25 overall and are the #2 humor blog. So, keep the votes coming, 1 per day.
Posted by Laura
April 27, 2010
Top 10 Signs Mommy Needs To Do Laundry
The challenge of folding laundry takes on new meaning when there are little people at your feet who believe “helping” means climbing in the laundry baskets and “folding” means squishing a shirt into a tiny ball as they declare with a grin of accomplishment, “Here, Mommy.” The greatest challenge, however, is that doing laundry is the never-ending task: spend an entire day sorting, washing, drying, folding and putting away clothes ONLY to find with the passing of every hour there are more loads to conquer! And please make sure that disposable diaper doesn’t EVER wander in a load. Thus, are there any reasons why Mommies out there might not find themselves in any number of the following predicaments?
Here are the top 10 signs that Mommy needs to do laundry:
1.) Desperate times mean desperate measures: The only choice of underwear (albeit something that resembles a deflated hot air balloon OR a rubber band) leaves you walking around all day with a wedgie!
2.) Comfort is sacrificed at the door of convenience: Even though your months out from weaning baby, you debate wearing a flapping nursing bra just ignore the now-deflated Madonna-esque protruding cones that enter the room before you do.
4.) Beauty comes second to practicality: You encourage hubby to pull a late-Michael Jackson to the office, wearing the stark white socks with his black pants, because that’s the only choice.
5.) Sharing is no longer optional: You are tempted to put pink socks on baby boy, because that’s what’s available. Besides, pssssst, don’t tell daddy, baby boy has already sported the pink princess pull up a few weeks ago when you ran out of diapers.
6.) Recycling takes on new meaning: No jeans left. Okay, time to pull out those maternity jeans with the yard-long, thick elastic bellyband that makes you appear as though you were ingested by a two-legged octopus.
7.) The Great Osmosis: There are more clothes outside of the dresser drawers and closets than inside.
8.) The Great Invasion: Dirty laundry piles consume almost every room of the house.
9.) The Great Famine: There are not enough laundry baskets or rooms to contain the laundry.
10.) Scarcity Redefined: Finally, the only choice, if you don’t want to wear something with Mr. Poopie, Mr. Booger, or Puke thanks to the munchkins, the only choice is wear nothing at all. Yes, this is the ultimate sign laundry can wait no longer.
Thanks for your continued support by voting for me at the top right of this post in the Top Mommy Blogs. We are #2 in Humor and a few votes shy of being in the top 25 overall : ) Keep ‘em coming.
Posted by Laura
Here are the top 10 signs that Mommy needs to do laundry:
1.) Desperate times mean desperate measures: The only choice of underwear (albeit something that resembles a deflated hot air balloon OR a rubber band) leaves you walking around all day with a wedgie!
2.) Comfort is sacrificed at the door of convenience: Even though your months out from weaning baby, you debate wearing a flapping nursing bra just ignore the now-deflated Madonna-esque protruding cones that enter the room before you do.
4.) Beauty comes second to practicality: You encourage hubby to pull a late-Michael Jackson to the office, wearing the stark white socks with his black pants, because that’s the only choice.
5.) Sharing is no longer optional: You are tempted to put pink socks on baby boy, because that’s what’s available. Besides, pssssst, don’t tell daddy, baby boy has already sported the pink princess pull up a few weeks ago when you ran out of diapers.
6.) Recycling takes on new meaning: No jeans left. Okay, time to pull out those maternity jeans with the yard-long, thick elastic bellyband that makes you appear as though you were ingested by a two-legged octopus.
7.) The Great Osmosis: There are more clothes outside of the dresser drawers and closets than inside.
8.) The Great Invasion: Dirty laundry piles consume almost every room of the house.
9.) The Great Famine: There are not enough laundry baskets or rooms to contain the laundry.
10.) Scarcity Redefined: Finally, the only choice, if you don’t want to wear something with Mr. Poopie, Mr. Booger, or Puke thanks to the munchkins, the only choice is wear nothing at all. Yes, this is the ultimate sign laundry can wait no longer.
Thanks for your continued support by voting for me at the top right of this post in the Top Mommy Blogs. We are #2 in Humor and a few votes shy of being in the top 25 overall : ) Keep ‘em coming.
Posted by Laura
April 18, 2010
Crazy Things All in the Name of Potty Training!
Potty Training is one of the most hilarious adventures I’ve endured so far in motherhood. Not only is there that cuteness factor that I’ve shared earlier about, but then you look in the mirror at yourself and find yourself doing the most bizzare things all in the name of Potty Training! Yesterday we looked at the dog that wouldn't poop! Now, let's see how that prepared us for the world of potty training toddlers!
So here you go. The Top things I Never thought I’d do to get my toddler to poop.
1.) Talking to the poopie: “Okay, poopie, time to come out!”
2.) Personifying the poopie: “It’s okay, sometimes poopies are lazy and we just need to be patient.” OR “The poopie will be lonely if it doesn’t go in the potty.”
3.) Commanding the poopie to obey: “We know you’re in there. Come out, now!”
4.) Forcing the poopie into submission: “Yes, let’s push that poopie out. Push! Push! Do you want to hold my hand? There you go. There you go.”
4.) Imitating the poopie: “Plop, plop, isn’t that fun!”
5.) Expressing affection towards the poopie: “I Love Poopies, Let me see.”
6.) Resisting the poopie: “No, No! Don’t touch back there. We don’t want to get the poopie on our hands!”
7.) Measuring the poopie: “Look at the size of that poopie! Amazing! I am so proud of you.”
8.) Containing the poopie: “Please let Mommy wipe, it is her joy.”
9.) Describing the poopie: “What? No, Poopies are not cute.”
10.) Naming the poopie: “What? You said it’s a diamond?”
11.) Restraining the poopie: “No, We don’t touch the poopie or anything in the potty!”
12.) Evicting the poopie: “Yes, say goodbye to Mr. Poopie; you get to flush!”
If you liked this post you might also enjoy this.
Is there anything I have missed from the list? Please share!
Thanks for the votes! We're # 2 in the humor category and #30 overall in the top mommy blogs. You can vote once a day by clicking to the right of this post!
Don't forget to enter this giveaway for your chance to win an embroidered thirty-one-purse!
Posted by Laura
So here you go. The Top things I Never thought I’d do to get my toddler to poop.
1.) Talking to the poopie: “Okay, poopie, time to come out!”
2.) Personifying the poopie: “It’s okay, sometimes poopies are lazy and we just need to be patient.” OR “The poopie will be lonely if it doesn’t go in the potty.”
3.) Commanding the poopie to obey: “We know you’re in there. Come out, now!”
4.) Forcing the poopie into submission: “Yes, let’s push that poopie out. Push! Push! Do you want to hold my hand? There you go. There you go.”
4.) Imitating the poopie: “Plop, plop, isn’t that fun!”
5.) Expressing affection towards the poopie: “I Love Poopies, Let me see.”
6.) Resisting the poopie: “No, No! Don’t touch back there. We don’t want to get the poopie on our hands!”
7.) Measuring the poopie: “Look at the size of that poopie! Amazing! I am so proud of you.”
8.) Containing the poopie: “Please let Mommy wipe, it is her joy.”
9.) Describing the poopie: “What? No, Poopies are not cute.”
10.) Naming the poopie: “What? You said it’s a diamond?”
11.) Restraining the poopie: “No, We don’t touch the poopie or anything in the potty!”
12.) Evicting the poopie: “Yes, say goodbye to Mr. Poopie; you get to flush!”
If you liked this post you might also enjoy this.
Is there anything I have missed from the list? Please share!
Thanks for the votes! We're # 2 in the humor category and #30 overall in the top mommy blogs. You can vote once a day by clicking to the right of this post!
Don't forget to enter this giveaway for your chance to win an embroidered thirty-one-purse!
Posted by Laura
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)