Solitary Confinement

I love my children so dearly. They bring me joy and new perspective as I watch them grow and learn and develop. However, living with chronic pain is often very taxing on not only my body, but my mind too. Simply put, sometimes I really need a break.

I am so incredibly blessed with a husband who understands my need for quiet and rest. This last weekend he took the kids (and the very energetic dog) to Meemaw and Boppa's house while I stayed behind.

I had as much silence as I wanted. I slept as long as I needed. And I bathed when I got around to it. I didn't once leave the house all weekend. I read my book, caught up on some recorded shows, and even did some cleaning and laundry. And I did this all without panic, frustration or pressure. I think it is so easy as a mother and a woman to want to be everything to everyone (usually a self-imposed goal).

A guy I know once told me that he believes that a mother should ALWAYS want to be with her children. I wholeheartedly disagree! I believe a mother should always be there for her children and should always love and guide her children, but there is no shame in needing a little time away from the constant noise and energy.

As a result of my weekend of solitary confinement, I feel transformed. My head is clear, my energy is restored, and the enjoyment of being a mother and a wife has returned. And as I listen to my kids argue in the next room, I can honestly say that I am very happy to have my lovely family back home.

Motherly Advice

For the last several days my son has been down and out with a terrible cold/flu. On Sunday night his temperature got up to a whopping 104.9°, which certainly worried me. I remembered that children can tend to run high fevers and that it isn't necessary cause for panic, but I didn't like it being that high.

My mother-in-law told me that what she used to do to naturally lower a temperature was to run a lukewarm bath and spoon the cool water over the child. So, immediately upon hearing this advice, I ran a bath. I have just two things to say about this method: first of all, it works! My son's temperature dropped to about 103.4° right after the bath. And second of all, he HATED it when I would pour the water over him. It is quite uncomfortable to have water touching your skin when you have such a high fever but it didn't harm him, and I would do it again in a heartbeat.

His temperature hasn't been that high since, but he is still feeling pretty miserable and will barely eat anything. My main concern right now is dehydration. So, after seeking my mom's advice, we determined that tonight his dinner will consist of Sprite and vanilla pudding to ensure that he is getting something in his system that is easy on his tummy and that will taste good - now how could he resist that?

Thank you to my moms for your help! I would be lost without you.

Mommy Brain

Other moms know what I am talking about when I say "mommy brain". There is something that happens to a woman after having children that makes her become forgetful and confused at times. I have had a case of the mommy brain twice in the last week ... real bad.

Every two weeks my son's physical therapist comes over to the house to track his progress and give tips for how to encourage his walking. Last Wednesday I was sitting in my office, working, and I thought to myself that it was probably about time for another visit from her. I looked at my calendar and saw that I had her down for a visit the next week, then I went about my business. Suddenly the doorbell rang and sure enough, it was her. I looked at her like "Hello, nice to see you ... but what are you doing here?". She gave me a look like "Good morning, why are you looking at me that way, I am supposed to be here." I told her to come on in, but that I wasn't expecting her until the 15th, to which she replied that it was the 15th! I was off by an entire week! I foolishly thought it was the 8th and my face turned scarlet red as I tried to nonchalantly pick up my shoes that were lying on the floor and fold a blanket that sat mussed on the couch.

And then there was yesterday. I went grocery shopping and bought some loose leaf tea from the bulk section. I remember scooping the tea into the bags, labeling them with the appropriate bulk number and that's about it. So when I was unloading my grocery bags yesterday, I was confused as to why I couldn't find them. I checked my cupboard multiple times ... they weren't there. I retraced my steps and thought that maybe I had left them in the bulk section, but after checking my receipt I found that I had paid for them. Well, then the checker must not have included them in my bags! So I called the store, asking if they were still in the check-out line I had used, and there was no sign of them. I was going crazy! I wanted my tea, I didn't want to have to make a trip all the way back to the store to get more, and I was mostly frustrated that I couldn't figure out what happened.

Later I found the bags of tea in the crisper drawer in my refrigerator. Because why wouldn't they be in there?

See ... mommy brain!

Baby Day Spa

Sometimes it's hard to be a kid. You just need to wash the day away.

After I give my son a bath I like to give him a little "baby day spa". After getting him out of the tub, I wrap him up in a warm towel and lay him down on his changing table. Then I take some gentle baby lotion and massage his legs, feet and hands. He tries so hard not to let on that he likes it, but the smirk on his face says it all. You're never too old or too young to have a little pampering.

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.

Serenity Now!

Have you ever had one of those days when you try to hold it together but all you want to do is run outside screaming? Today was like that for me. I am not complaining, it was actually a perfectly fine day, but very busy and at times overwhelming.

I think what made it such a challenging morning was the fact that my 21 month old son does not walk. In fact the greater part of my morning was taken up by having him evaluated by Early Childhood Intervention to see if they can figure out why he doesn't walk. Do you catch the irony here? I have to cart him around everywhere and he is heavy! My poor Fibromyalgic muscles can only take so much. Unfortunately we may not find out the results of the evaluation until after we meet with the physical therapist.

After picking up my daughter from school I took the kids to Wal-Mart ... that did nothing to help my already fragile state.

When arriving home I had to brace myself for the absolute chaos that occurs the moment I walk in the door. My son starts crying because he saw the box of Goldfish crackers I bought and is hungry. My daughter immediately starts asking for lunch. The dog is barking, as she always is; and the cat made a dookie in her litter that is so rank it could clear the neighborhood! And that was just this morning.

On days like this I think of that one episode of Seinfeld where George Costanza's dad, Frank, is advised to say "serenity now" aloud every time his blood pressure is in danger of going up, but he yells it instead.

Here and now I will try this relaxation method ... SERENITY NOW!

Seinfeld - Frank Costanza shouting "Serenity now!"

Yeah, I don't think it helped.

Just Another Manic Morning

Having a child in preschool has really changed my life. I have to be more organized about getting everyone out the door in the morning; I start to get very excited over the thought of watching my baby in the upcoming Christmas program; and I volunteer to help out in the classroom from time to time. But nothing quite prepared me for the chaos that takes place when I take my daughter to school!

The preschool is run at a local church in my community and is located in a residential street. It is a very nice facility with good sized classrooms and a fun playground. But the parking lot is like Hades on a busy day. The parking spaces are very narrow, which wouldn't be a problem except everyone in this town drives an SUV, truck, or a behemoth-mobile of some sort (myself included, I drive a Honda Pilot). NOBODY knows how to park in these spaces! Most people just straddle the line, making it impossible for anyone else to park. And while this is a "Christian" preschool, some of the bumper stickers that grace these vehicles are not very "clean" in their message.

Then there are the cell phones. I never thought of my town as being tech-savvy, but everyone has a cell phone. And fellow parents like to use them ... a lot. I am amazed at while shuttling their children off to class, people can carry on complete conversations about "that guy Mindy is seeing on Friday night" or about "preparing for hernia surgery next week". Unfortunately this constant use of cell phones does not help in the challenges of trying to navigate through that parking lot, especially one-handed.

I am used to a slower pace and a more relaxed approach to things. And though I am still adapting, I have survived the last few months of getting my daughter to school. On a slightly different subject, I feel that I am raising a diva. Occasionally on the way home from school I will drive up to the Human Bean for a coffee, and when we pull up my girl will say "I would like a 'Not-So-Hot Hot Chocolate' with whipped cream and a bean"! Now that's a girl who knows what she wants!

Ladies Night

Getting together with other women is something I value very much in my life. I love my husband; I love my kids. But there are times when I crave that female bonding. A chance to get away, even for a little bit. The opportunity to share common interests and fun stories. Tonight I was able to have a ladies night out with a couple of friends, and I am so grateful.

Sometimes I feel that I have so much to do in a day that I can get overwhelmed. I am an interpreter, a dictionary, a graphic designer, a creative director, a personal chef, a role model, a mediator, a chauffeur, a play mate, a disciplinarian, a maid, a teacher, and a wife. When I go out with the ladies ... I can just be Kelly ... whoever that is!

It Just About Broke My Heart

Another topic was planned for today's post: something along the lines of my personal beef with fast food joints - pardon the bun ... I mean pun. That will have to wait because I want to talk about something else.

My daughter has the biggest and sweetest heart. It's amazing how sensitive and thoughtful she is for being four years old. Today I have been feeling pretty bad. Due to Fibromyalgia my muscles have been hurting and my head aching. As soon as my husband got home from work I hobbled up the stairs to take a hot bath. Once out of the bath I went into my room to find a card sitting on the bed. The front read "MoM - FEEL BEttEr". It was very legible and nicely written. Inside is a face with spiky hair (my son), face with ears on the top of its head (our cat) and various other less recognizable scribblings. On the back it says "10-16-08". Needless to say I was touched.

I went downstairs to thank my family. I found out that my daughter made the card all by herself with only a little help on how to spell some of the words. She told me she loves me and wants me to feel better. My sweet girl.

Then I wanted to go back upstairs to lay down and rest. She begged to come up with me. I told her that I needed to be by myself for a while (loud noises and bright lights aggravate my symptoms) and asked her to stay downstairs with Daddy. She started to cry. My heart sank. I then heard her crying to Daddy, "Daaad, I am just sad because Mom doesn't feel good and I want to lay down with her so she can feel betteeerrr!" I almost started to cry as I sneaked up the stairs.

I feel incredibly blessed to have such a wonderful family ... and like a terrible person for not feeling well enough to snuggle with my good-natured child.

The Joke is On Us

When I go grocery shopping, I prefer to go alone. My kids are generally well behaved and content when they go with me, but things go much faster and easier when I am by myself. Yesterday, however, I had to take them along.

I usually use a regular cart with my son in the seat and my daughter walking beside me. But yesterday I noticed one of those cool racecar carts that are usually unavailable, and I had to try it. My kids LOVED it! They each had a steering wheel and pretended they were racing while I got my shopping done. You would think it was all wonderful, right?

Wrong! That cart was impossible to steer. The wheels were vacillating, I was running into everything, and to make matters worse, I was wearing sandals with no traction. Can you imagine what I must have looked like? I can just see the surveillance footage of me sliding around the store, crashing into cardboard oreo displays and trying to gracefully turn corners - all while my children were blissfully making vrooom vrooom noises. Of course now my kids will want one of those carts from now on.

I think these carts were created as a big joke on the parents - and a good laugh for the store employees!

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.

Four Going on 15

In a previous post I mentioned that sometimes I think my daughter is four going on 15. I just thought I would elaborate as to why I think that is.

Ah, my daughter. She was born a sturdy robust little lady weighing in at 8 pounds exactly. Born into a family of emotional and dramatic women, she was bound to follow suit. And she does.

It is like she has two sides to her; as a four-year old, she thinks everything is exciting! From buying yogurt at the store to having sparkles glued on to her shoes, life is an exhilarating adventure. She gives great hugs, tells me she loves me, and even volunteers to share her ice cream with her little brother. Sometimes she looks like a little girl; ribbons in her hair, butterflies on her shirt, and anything “princess” is a hit. And when she sleeps she still looks like a she did when she was a baby. Overall she is a sweet, happy and good natured little girl.

My sweet little four-year old.

Then there are times where I could swear she is a teenager.

She is often asleep when I go to get her up in the morning. If you wake her before she is ready to get up … WATCH OUT. She is emotional, grouchy, and on the verge of a major breakdown! She is dramatic, to say the least, and really knows how to overreact. She has definite ideas about what she wants to wear, and goes through her drawers in a frenzy trying to find just the right ensemble. Clothes are flung everywhere, her room never stays clean, she changes her outfit five times a day, and I already can’t understand most of what she says. It’s like she already speaks in the language of teenagers that adults cannot decode. Part angst, part mania, part mumbling. And much to my surprise, she says “I freaked out” a lot. I really don’t know where she learned that!

My moody teenager.

It is wonderful to see her personality develop as she grows. However, if her current behavior is any indication what her teen years will be like … help me!

A Day in Kelly's Life (the scented candle version)

I recently read in the June 2008 issue of Real Simple magazine, a witty and creative article written by Julianna Baggott. It was called “A Day in My Life (the scented-candle version)". I thought it was so fun and descriptive, I wanted do something like that to describe a day in my life. So, here goes...

7:11 a.m.
“Irish Spring and Colgate” A haunting blend of lingering morning shower and evidence that my husband kissed me on the cheek before leaving for work. An undertone of guilt that he wakes up at 5:30 a.m. and I don't, with a dash of delight that I don't have to get up that early.

8:05 a.m.
“Wake-up Kids” This earthy and organic fragrance is equal parts my daughter's sweaty head from a hot night's sleep and last night's sweet potatoes in my son's diaper. The sweet smell of joy on my kids faces when they see me, and the strong scent of urgency as I get them ready for the day.

8:24 a.m.
“The Laundry Room” Also home to an American Eskimo dog and 120 pound cat, the room fragrance can be described as the fresh scent of Gain, an undercurrent of dog breath and a light hint of kitty litter.

8:59 a.m.
“Arrive at Pre-School” This classic scent is a familiar blend of peanut butter, snotty noses, homemade play dough and the nearby children's lavatory. A concoction that will inevitably take you back to your own school days as a child.

10:32 a.m.
“Wal-Mart” Greasy and spicy. This corporate conglomerate cologne is the perfect brew of McDonald's Chicken McNuggets and the strong chemical expulsions from the in-store nail salon. Screams from untamed children and the strong desire to get what you need and get out, limit the possibility of shopping there again.

1:06 p.m.
“Nap Time” The kids are in bed, the aroma of relief fills the air! The scents of an overused vacuum cleaner with a burning rubber belt, household bleach, and a pending graphic design deadline all lend to this bouquet of limited freedom.

5:36 p.m.
“Pumping Iron” The gym's atmosphere is filled with the metallic combination of sweat, iron, rubber and determination. The strong but futile hope of a calorie and fat free BBQ bacon cheeseburger and fries, as the reward for doing 120 crunches and 30 minutes on the stationary bike, dwells in your psyche.

6:45 p.m.
“Dinnertime Panic” The panic stricken face of my husband after being home alone with the kids for less than an hour, combined with the desire to provide a healthy and satisfying dinner for a 33 year-old man, 4 year-old girl (with a very picky palette) and a 1 year-old boy without all of his teeth, gives off an intense fragrance of anxiety...and microwaved frozen pot pies.

7:37 p.m.
“N-night, B-bye”
The comfort of a snuggly baby boy and the wonder of a girl learning to read makes this fragrance a blend of sweetness and joy. The promise of a hot bubble bath, a bowl of rocky road ice cream, and a smile from my husband makes it for a very satisfying parfum de vie.