Mommy Thumb

Remember when I mentioned that I had sprained my thumb?

I just saw something on Yahoo News...

I have MOMMY THUMB!!

I am not making this up! You can read all about it here.

My favorite part: "Treatment - proper warm up before doing any lifting and avoid any activities that cause pain."

Yeah, that will go over well with my son: "Sorry, honey, I can't lift you up because I haven't stretched out my thumb yet."

And no, I still have not gone to the doctor.

Making Momma Happy

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My daughter's new kick is to make Mommy happy.

Before she does something, she asks, "Will that make you happy?" and when she's done, she says, "Are you happy now?"

I try to explain to her that I want her to do things to make herself happy. But she's three. She's happy if she gets two cookies instead of one. So making her bed, picking up her shoes, cleaning up her playroom... those aren't high on her happiness radar.

And I feel sort of guilty about it... That this is the beginning of some sort of problem she will have, a problem that I'm going to have to pay a lot of money in therapy for during her teenage years. Maybe she will be diagnosed with low self esteem or an inability to make herself happy if she is not pleasing other people. And I don't want that -- I don't want her to worry so much about making other people happy, I want her to do thing to make herself happy.

Still, though, this is a great tool for getting stuff done around the house...

Just Like Momma

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I've mentioned before how I am an organized soul.

My daughter is following in my foot steps.

I would be worried about her OCD, but someone told me it's normal for toddlers. Still....

Her books have to be lined up on her shelf just so before she goes to bed. The washcloth has to be wrung out and carefully draped over the faucet. Baby Doll Sally has to be tucked in face down with the polka dotted blanket (like Minnie Mouse!) placed gently and exactly straight over her. Her shoes need to be lined up by the door way. Her Tinkerbell blanket has to be facing the window. The magnets need to be lined up with military precision on the fridge.

But my personal favorite? This:

Her pull ups have to be sorted by princess.

Definition of "Mommy"

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My soon to be 3 year old daughter just informed her Daddy that I am not a "Shannon," I am a "Mommy."

For laughs, I asked her what a "Mommy" is.

Her reply?

"Mommy is the rules."

When I asked her what she meant, she said: "Mommy is the rules. Mommy says: No, you can't take your binky out of your room. Peepee goes in the potty. Don't hit Bubba. Share with Bubba. Have a happy day. Baby Girl, stop whining. No bouncing on the bed. Shhh... no talking during nap! Eat your dinner. No juice, you had enough juice. We don't pick our nose. I love you Baby Girl. Those is the rules!"

My husband is still laughing.

As Christopher Titus said, "Living with a child is like living with a witness for the prosecution."

Still Bitter....

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Yeah, I'm still angry and upset.

You know how they say that time will dull your pain? Ease old wounds? Not this one.

I mentioned how much a I hate going to the doctor in an older post. I'm still thinking about it. I'm still frustrated at how the doctor treated my son and I. I'm still bitter that she wouldn't answer my questions. And I'm really pissed off that my son got 4 shots when I wanted him to have 2.

Maybe it's the rash my son developed at the injection site because he got too many shots. Okay, I'm not a doctor, so maybe he didn't get a rash because of the shots. Perhaps there is another reason. But my Mom-dar is screaming: "The doctor should have listened to you! The doctor should have listened to you." After all, the doctor spends, at minimum 30 minutes with my son every 3 months. She may know the medicine, but I know my boy.

Or maybe it's because a week after we saw her, he developed a high fever and cough, and when we took him to his normal, nice doctor, she sent us to CHOC immediately (her stress, not mine), for a chest xray and culture, and is also pushing us to get a heart echo.

I am never going to see that first, evil doctor again.

Doctor Visits

I hate going to the doctor. But when you have kids, it feels like you are there every month. (Or, if you have my kids, you are there every week. No lie. Last month I was at the doctor's office once a week for four weeks straight.)

And going to the doctor's office with kids is the absolute worst. They get bored. They get into things they shouldn't. And, of course, the big G that you have worry about: GERMS. I spend the entire time we are there on repeat: "Don't touch that. Come here, let Mommy wipe your hands. No, we are not eating here. I said don't touch that. No, we will eat outside. Where it is clean...."

Still, it's my spring break from work, so I got my son into both doctors that he needs to see, one for his asthma and the other for his well baby visit. And it's always the same:

Check in 15 minutes early. Wait for 30 minutes past your appointment time until you are called. Get angry and frustrated that you are waiting. Swear you won't come early next time but know that you will next time because you have hope that just once the doctor will be on time.

Finally get called back. The nurse makes the required comment about how big my boy is. I get it. He's large. Lets move on.

Strip my son naked for weighing, measuring, and temp, while he screams in my ear, of course.

Wrestle my son back in his clothes while the nurse asks the bazillion questions necessary to determine if he is developing on track:

"Does he like to stack blocks?" (No, he wants to knock them down)
"Can he feed himself?" (With his hands)
"Can he feed himself with a spoon?" (On a good day)
"Can he feed himself with a fork?" (Are you kidding?)
"Can he use a knife?" (Why in the name of God would I give my 16 month old son a weapon?)
"Can he say 7-20 words?" (Define words)
"Can he speak French?" (okay, maybe I made that one up. But my point is that they really need to reevaluate their development questions)

Then the nurse leaves with a cheery "The doctor will be right in!" And we proceed to wait for another 30 minutes.

Doctor shows up, and my son starts screaming. The doctor has forgotten my son's unholy fear of lab coats, and has to step outside to take it off.

Doctor comes back with the nurse. She proceeds to do the exam while my son screams his head off and I anxiously have to hold him onto the table. The doctor proceeds to say things over her shoulder for the nurse to scribble down, things like "Bilateral cracking. Second and third formulation." What the hell is she talking about?

The exam is over, and the doctor proceeds to give me The Look. "Do you know your son is overweight?" she asks disapprovingly. No kidding. My back and I had no idea. "No more fruit or juice for him," she tells me.

"But we don't give him --" I start to say.

"--Any other questions?" she interrupts.

I've been through this before. After all, my boyo is my second. So I shake my head no, and the doctor walks out the door.

Then I grab the nurse and grill her with my 20 questions.

After all, her answers are reasonable.

A Momma's New Years Resolution

I don't do New Year's Resolutions. I end up breaking them within hours (literally!) so what is the point?

However, this year, I decided to try something new. I am going to make New Years Resolutions - but this time I'm focusing on bettering myself as a mom, rather than focusing on bettering myself. Besides, to my way of thinking, by bettering myself as a mom, I am bettering myself.

So here goes - I didn't want to do something completely unachievable, like resolving to be a perfect mother (since we all know that is impossible), so I'm going to focus on small things - things I know I can do.

1. I am going to be more patient - I will count to ten before I tell my children "No!" after they ask me for the 50th time for another Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.

2. I will listen - not just to what they are saying, but to what they mean.

3. I will respond - again, not just to what they are saying, but to what they mean.

4. I will give them what they need, even if it is not what they want. Yes, that means veggies.

5. I will give them what they want (within reason).

6. I will limit the amount of TV they watch a day to 30 minutes a day. Okay, 1 hour. No, 30 minutes. I tell you what - I'll take it as it comes.

7. I will help them kick the binky habit.

8. I will get my daughter potty trained. I swear. No matter how much easier diapers are.

9. I will get my son off the bottle. Whether he wants it or not.

10. I will give them an extra 1000 hugs and kisses a day, instead of the 1000 I give them now.