No Sparkly Bandages Today

Turning five is an exciting thing for a kid ... except when that means you have to get not only one shot, but FIVE! For my daughter's annual wellness check-up she happily donned the paper gown, she tattled on herself when she said she didn't like to eat vegetables very much, and she passed all of the tests with flying colors. She is healthy! But it was heartbreaking when we found out that she would be getting five pokes today.

The anticipation quickly began to build. She whimpered even before the nurse came in the exam room. She shrieked when the alcohol was applied to her little legs. Then the real screaming began!

When she composed herself ten minutes later, she limped pitifully out of the clinic with a rainbow sucker in one hand and a pink helium balloon in the other. On the way home she talked about how brave she was and that last time she had a shot she got a sparkly bandage, and that she wished she got a sparkly bandage this time. It's amazing what things leave an impression on such a young girl.

As Blind As a Bat

If you are a watcher of Lost you may recall the opening graphics where the word "LOST" is blurry at first, and as it moves toward you the letters become more clear, only to move away and become blurry again. Well, I experienced a lot of that today.

I went in for an eye exam and this may be unbelievable, but I have never had my eyes dilated ... until today. Wow is that a funky feeling. Some experience severe sensitivity to light; I don't so much, but it do feel a little bit like I have been crying for a long time. My eyes are tired, I can't quite find the point of focus ( I am currently backed far away from the computer as I write this), and my pupils are HUGE! I look freaky.

Driving home was interesting. It's a good thing that even though it was snowing, it wasn't yet accumulating; and fortunately I have driven that way home so many times that it didn't matter that I couldn't read any of the signs on the highway.

The conclusion to my dilation test: I have very healthy eyes and optic nerve ... but I'm still as blind as a bat!

Tongue-Tied

Speechless or confused in expression, as from shyness, embarrassment, or astonishment: this is what you may think of as the definition of "tongue-tied".

It is most commonly used as a figure of speech for the inability to form words. My son, however, was born Tongue-Tied. It is a birth defect where a web of skin holds the tip of the tongue down to the floor of the mouth, restricting tongue movement. In my son's case, he couldn't stick his tongue out past his bottom teeth. And with his second birthday fast approaching and his vocabulary developing it was time to free him of this.

Yesterday my son had a Frenulectomy. A quick procedure where he was put to sleep for about 10-15 minutes and the doctor used a cauterizer to remove the excess skin, he then applied a few stitches and that was it. It sounds simple enough, but the act of waiting with my son on the hospital bed before the surgery was not so simple. I could feel my heart catching in my chest every time I thought about him being taken away for the surgery. I'm sure he was a little confused as to why it was still dark as we headed to the surgery center and why he didn't get to eat or drink anything yet. My husband and I would pull things out of my purse (a constant source of entertainment, apparently) to keep him busy. Lipstick, ear plugs, and hand sanitizer dazzled him for a little bit which was a blessing.

Then they took him.

The nurse said they would take good care of him as she wrapped him in a warm blanket and walked away with him. He didn't cry. He didn't squirm. But I was squirming inside. Even though it was minor surgery there is just something devastating about having my baby taken away to have a piece of him removed. Even a very small piece.

After about 10 minutes the doctor came out to the waiting room - where I was trying to keep my mind off of it all by reading up on celebrity home offices in a Domino magazine - and he said that it went great, and that in a few minutes we would get to see our boy after he begins to stir. Sure enough about 5 minutes later we went to see him. He looked like he had been sleeping for hours with red cheeks and squinty eyes. I got to hold him as he slowly woke up and it's moments like that that make me feel so honored to be a mom.

He is healing very nicely and after about a week he can start to eat harder and crunchier foods. With his mouth a little sore and feeling a bit strange, he hasn't been talking a lot or sticking out his tongue, but I did see it peek out past his teeth for the first time of his life and a tear rolled down my cheek.

What a Day I’m Having!

It is almost noon as I write this and already I have had quite a day. Two months ago when I took my son in for his well baby appointment, I made three new appointments, one for my daughter, one for my son, and one for me. I just needed a yearly check-up and it was scheduled for this morning at 9:20. This means that well in advance I arranged to have both of my kids in daycare.

Things were going well in preparing to get both of my children dressed, fed, and out the door at the same time…until I actually got them out of bed! It seems everything was against me today: my daughter spilled at least 6 ounces of milk on the carpet, my son was fussy, and the dog was disobedient. Then as we were heading into town, a large backhoe-loader was parked in the middle of the road, my only exit out of my neighborhood. We had to wait behind a brand new jacked up Chevy Silverado with ginormous wheels. Finally as the tractor moved, I thought I had a good chance of making it on time to my appointment.

Naturally, we ended up behind this ridiculous truck for the duration of the trip to daycare – and naturally it went 45 mph on the expressway! There wasn’t anyone directly in front of him either, I checked. Then whenever I would come to a stop sign, a traffic light, or a place where I need to turn my daughter kept asking me why I stopped. Ugh!

So we get to daycare and I took my kids to where they needed to go. The amazing thing is that my son didn’t cry when I handed him over at the nursery. At least that was a good thing. Feeling that I was pretty much on schedule I headed to the doctor’s office. When I get there I find it to be fairly quiet and empty. I check in at the front desk and the lady looks bewildered because she didn’t have me down on the schedule. She asks me to wait while she investigates further. After five minutes she calls me over to the counter and my doctor’s nurse is standing with her. I knew this wasn’t a good sign.

Mary – the nurse – tells me that they didn’t have me on the schedule and wanted to know when I made the appointment. Through gritted teeth I told her two months ago, and she shakes her head and regretfully tells me that there is NO WAY they can get me in today. She had to reschedule me for September! I am sure that the frustration was quite evident on my face as I was screaming inside.

So, now what was I supposed to do? My kids had only been in daycare for a half hour at this point. So I went to the local bagel shop and drowned my frustrations in a spectacular cappuccino and a slightly old copy of Condé Nast Traveler. After several articles on popular Croatian hot spots I calmed down enough to go pick up my children.

At least there is a silver lining: my daughter’s face lit up when she first saw me, and then I took my kids to the park where we had fun on the swings and playing in the dirt. I guess the morning wasn’t a total waste after all. I just hope the rest of the day goes a little smoother.

Apparently, Getting a Shot is Fun

Today was check-up day for my daughter. I took her to the doctor – which she really enjoys for some reason – and I am pleased to say that she is healthy and strong, except she seems to have shrunk two inches since last December. I think there was just an error in how they measured her.

I knew going into the clinic today that she was going to have to have a shot. I kept going over and over in my head how I would break the news to her using my calm “it’s no big deal” voice. I opted to wait until the very last minute to explain that the needle was going into her leg. The nurse came in with two needles, one for her and one for my son who needed a chicken pox vaccine. My heartbeat quickened as my little girl dutifully climbed up on my lap, I took her hand and explained that she would feel a little poke. Her blue eyes got huge and a look of panic and dread came over her. I told her that she needed to be brave and that we would go out for ice cream later to celebrate her bravery. The nurse asked her to count to three with her, and on a count of one she stuck my baby in the leg. A yelp was all that came out of my daughter! She didn’t cry, she didn’t panic; she was amazing. Of course the Strawberry Shortcake sticker made it all worth it.

My son, who is 16 months old, was next. He was so busy pushing the doctor’s stool around the room that he had no idea what was going on. I picked him up, removed his pants to expose his leg, and held him down. I could hardly look as the nurse stuck him. The boy barely reacted! No cry, no wince, nothing. Sometimes I have to wonder if these kids are related to me because I am 32 years old and I still make faces when I am stabbed by a needle.

As I was getting the kids in the car, my daughter said, “Mmm, that was fun Mom!” All the way home she stared at the silver sparkle bandage on her leg and said that she was proud of herself for being very brave. That just goes to prove these things are always hardest on the parent.