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.

New Diet

I'll be the first to admit, I need to lose some weight. About 20 pounds. Probably closer to 30, but I'll stick with 20 for now. The problem is that I'm not consistent when it comes to exercising and I hate dieting. Absolutely hate it. I know, I know, you're thinking - who loves it? No one loves dieting. But I'm not sure anyone hates it as much as I do.

Be that as it may, I am trying a new diet. One that you are not going to find in any diet book. It's a simple, one step process.

Ready?

I sit next to my son at dinner time.

Why?

Whenever I load my fork/spoon, he grabs my arm and pulls the fork over to his mouth instead of mine. And he's strong too.

So, if I'm not eating as much, I'm dieting, right?

Right?

Potty Training

This is getting ridiculous.

My daughter is almost 3 - she turns 3 in June. And she is not pottytrained.

Don't get me wrong, she is well aware of the process. And she recognizes pee and poop, and recognizes when her body is making it. And - here's the kicker - she is partially potty trained at school!!!

We've tried potty training at home. We've tried bribes - stickers, pennies, and (I'm loathe to admit) M & M's. We've tried potty training dolls, an Elmo potty DVD, sitting on the potty until she goes, naked time, charts... You name it, we've tried it. I've read 5 books on the subject (The fact that I could find 5 books on the subject slightly bothers me). I took her to Walmart and we sat on all of the potties there, to find the perfect one. (We finally settled on a Princess Potty Seat, if you are curious). I bought her Disney Princess and Mickey Mouse panties. She has worn the panties over the pull ups, under the pull ups, or without pull ups.

Still nothing.

Then my sister in law gave me an idea - one that worked with her oldest son, who apparantly gave his mom potty training fits too. She simply told him that he was potty trained. And it worked.

So this morning, we got up and I told my daughter: "You are potty trained now. No more pull ups. You are a big girl."

"Okay Momma," she said. "I go peepee in the toilet."

At the end of the day, final count: My daughter - 5. Potty - 0.

I need to go do laundry.

Happy Easter

Easter Sunday was yesterday.

In a fit of insanity, I decided to host Easter.

For 20 people.

In my house.

Which is a shoebox.

Still, it went well. I was only a little frantic. I didn't sleep Saturday night because I was cooking and prepping and my son was screaming....but I was jazzed so it didn't matter. (Well, not a lot)

My daughter helped me make 20 mini bundt cakes, my husband helped me by grilling up some bacon, and my son helped me by breaking eggs into the bowl... and himself. And the floor. Which helped me mop the floor.

We set up tables outside (thank you, Lord, for no rain) and moved people smoothly through the living room to the kitchen to the patio.

My children woke up Easter morning and we talked about how Easter was when Jesus won a great victory. Then we went to see what the Easter Bunny brought -- my children think that the Easter Bunny helped Jesus win his victory and brings presents to celebrate. I don't know how much of that they get, but I'm trying to lay the foundation.

The Easter Bunny brought my munchkins clothes, toy gardening tools, bubbles, and a DVD each - the Princess and the Frog and the much loved/loathed Elmo. We had an Easter Egg Hunt where my son went and sat in his toy car and my daughter found all of the eggs but one.

My daughter wore both outfits the Easter Bunny brought her because she couldn't decide which one and my son decided he didn't want to visit with anyone and promptly fell asleep at 11, when everyone was due over at the house. He slept through the entire brunch.

By 2, everyone had left. My children were asleep. My husband and I cleaned up and collapsed on the couch.

Happy Easter Everyone!

Musical Munchkins

My children love music. Don't all toddlers love music? But since we usually only listen to music in the car, their love of music seems a bit extreme. (Although my husband and I actually do our damnedest to influence our their musical preferences. He wants them to like metal. I want them to like country. My daughter wants Mickey Mouse music. My son wants Elmo Sing Alongs. No one is winning this battle.)

My daughter loves to sing now - she sings everything that she is doing. "I'm getting up. I'm coming in. I'm eating breakfast." She sings nursery rhymes and jingles that she hears. She tries to sing along with the radio, but she is always a word behind. As for my son, he loves to dance. He bounces along to music and claps his hands. He tries to sing too, but since he doesn't really have the vocal skills for talking yet, singing seems to be a long way off. But what he is really good at is playing music - keyboard, xylophone, drum, guitar; if you put it into his hand, he'll figure out how it makes music.

And I'm happy that they like music. Studies say that it will help them with math, exercise, all sorts of stuff. I just wonder where it comes from.

I'm tone deaf. And I have no rhythm. It's rather embarrassing. Sure, I like music, but when I sing, my daughter winces and tells me "No, Momma, you no sing." And I like to dance, but I had to count the beat during my wedding dance. And when I dance with my son, he laughs and points. So where did their musical ability come from?

Oh, right.

My husband.

Does this mean they are going to like metal?

Some Days Are Harder Than Others...

Today was the first day in a week that I had to drop both my babies off at school. They had both been sick last week, and then my son developed a rash as a result of his antibiotics, so last week I took two coveted sick days (it makes me a little nauseous to realize that I only have two sick days left for the next two months of school) and kept my little ones home. My husband took one day, my sister watched them one day, and my sister in law watched them another day.

So today we tried to get back into our crazy, chaotic routine to get out the door on time (I am proud of myself -- I was only 10 minutes late out the door). I was surprised at how easy it was to get back into the flow of things - sure, I had to deal with my daughter's two temper tantrums, but on the whole, we did all right.

And then I dropped them off at school. Melt down city. My daughter huddled in the corner, sobbing "I don't wanna go to school. I want Momma! I don't wanna go to school!" while my son hung on my skirt and cried "Up! Up! Up!"

I finally got them situated and, while they weren't happy, they were at least calm. I gave them extra hugs and kisses, more cuddles and pats on the back, and then I had to walk out the door to go to a job where I am not appreciated.

And I sat in my car and cried.

Temper Temper

Well, it finally happened.

My son threw his first temper tantrum.

I was a bit surprised - my daughter didn't realize that she could have a tantrum until she was about 20 months old. But my boyo has seen his sister throw enough of them that he just had to try it out.

His tantrums are remarkably similar to his sister's - face down on the ground, butt in the air, alternating whining into his hands with high pitched screeching, with an occasional tear drenched glare shot my way.

Poor guy, he doesn't realize that after 13 months of his sister's tantrums, I'm immune. Since we were home, I just stepped over him and went about my business.

Correction - I thought I was immune.

Out of solidarity with her brother, my daughter threw a tantrum too... right next to him.

But, I don't think she was crying for the same reason he was - I wouldn't let him have a cookie. I think she was crying because she just wanted to give Momma a headache.

So I had two toddlers, face down on the ground, butts in the air, alternating whining into their hands with high pitched screeching, with occasional tear drenched glares shot my way.

My ear drums are still pounding.

To Tube or Not to Tube...

My son had a doctor's appointment yesterday -- to check on his last ear infection, to make sure it had cleared up.

He now has two ear infections and the beginning stages of pink eye.

Good news is that since we caught it early, after 24 hours of eye drops (2 in each eye, 3 times a day!) he will be okay and not contagious. Thank goodness... I'm supposed to host a gathering at my house on Sunday with a lot of other kiddos and I don't want to risk it if there was the slightest chance he would be contagious.

(But to all my Momma friends out there, don't worry. I'm going to wait until my son is on antibiotics for 24 hours and my daughter is symptom free for 48 hours - then I will reevaluate as to whether or not I need to reschedule the party. So I'll post an update on Wednesday night.)

So first the good news: I get to spend the day with my boyo. Bad news: I have to spend the day disinfecting my entire house.

And the really bad news: the doctor mentioned that horrible word - myringotomy. For those of you who aren't doctors, that means ear tube surgery. The argument is since he has two ear infections now, right after having 1 three weeks ago, one in December, one in July, and one in June, the doctor wants us to think about putting tubes in his ears like we did with our daughter.

I really hope we don't have to, but if it will make him feel better... I don't know. Poor little guy. For those of you who don't know, he stopped breathing when he was 5 weeks old and spent a week on a ventilator in PICU. Since then he has had chest xrays, bracheotymies, a heart echo, and an acid reflux test. He's been on steroids since he was 3 months old and takes an albuterol inhaler 4 times a day. He's been poked and prodded so much in his young life; I hate to add to it.

But I know that it will make him better. It made a world of difference with our daughter. But, quite honestly, I don't know if I have the strength to go through another procedure again.

A Night of Firsts

1. My son got middle named -- by his 2 year old sister.

2. I painted my daughter's toe nails for the first time. She chose a classic pure red. And after I painted her toes and she blew on them, she turned to me and said: "Take them off."

3. I tried the pepper that came with the kung po chicken. I will never do that again.

4. My daughter learned how to jump rope -- and by jumping rope, I mean she dragged the rope around behind her while she hopped in a circle.

5. My son said "please" for the first time... maybe it came out "peas," but I know that he meant please. And I know that because I had been saying "Say please," for about 15 minutes.

Irish Brownies

I normally don't do this, but I wanted to pass on my recipe for Irish brownies - they are so good!

1. Go to the grocery store.
2. Buy a box of brownie mix, the oil and eggs necessary to make the brownies, and a bottle of Jameson.
3. Go home, pour yourself a glass of Jameson, and make the brownies.
4. Add some Jameson to the brownie mix.
5. Pour yourself another glass of Jameson.
6. Cook the brownies according to package instructions.
7. Pour yourself another glass of Jameson.
8. Cool brownies.
9. Pour yourself another glass of Jameson.
10. Eat brownies. They will taste great!*

*Let it be noted, that at this point, everything will taste great because your tongue is numb from all of the whiskey.