Last Wednesday, I wrote about my Lenton sacrifice and how awesome I was as a mom, wife, coworker and Catholic. And then God smote me down for my hubris. Bragging gets your nowhere. This week has been a snotty, poopy, pukey mess of tears, worry and frustration. Here I am, a humbled woman, to confess that my Lenton sacrifice has not been so easy in week three.
For Lent this year, I gave up being frustrated with my daughter. That's all well and good when she's healthy and I have nothing on which to actually base my frustration. When she's happy and healthy, sure. When she's easy amused and content to play in the family room by herself while I do chores and prepare dinner, sure. Then, I can give up being frustrated with her minor antics and start being more patient.
But when my precious daughter is sick? Going through diaper after diaper? And when the doctors seem dismissive to a worried mom? My worry turns to frustration. Here is me:
Laura! Why won't you drink this pedilyte? What if I put it in a sippy? What about a sippy with a straw? What about a bottle? What about a big girl cup?
Laura! Why won't you eat anything other than toast? You have to eat something! You have lost half a pound in the last week. You were small to begin with!
Laura! Why are you fussing now? OMG, you want MORE toast? Could I interest you in some probiotic-enhanced yogurt? AGH! You are obsessed with toast!
Laura! Stop fussing at the dog to get your toast back from her. You gave her this toast, she ate it.. That means it's all gone. That's right (wiggles hands) all gone. You can't get the bread back from the dog - she has eaten it. No, I'm not giving you more toast just so you can give it to the dog.
So yeah, I might have gotten a little frustrated with Laura because of the situation. I am just so worried. And clearly, worrying leads to frustration. Which Nate says is why he'll live longer than me (although I don't agree that Mr. Obsessed-with-salt is living to 100 like he thinks). Are we the only married couple who debates at length who will die first? Just us? Ookay then... Back to Lent. I gave up being frustrated with Laura. However, I am learning that sacrifice is (and should be!) hard. All I can do is focus on the cause of my frustration - worry - and try to make it better.
However, it would be really nice if Laura could be healthy for a few days, at least!
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Lent: The Humbled Edition
Last Wednesday, I wrote about my Lenton sacrifice and how awesome I was as a mom, wife, coworker and Catholic. And then God smote me down for my hubris. Bragging gets your nowhere. This week has been a snotty, poopy, pukey mess of tears, worry and frustration. Here I am, a humbled woman, to confess that my Lenton sacrifice has not been so easy in week three.
For Lent this year, I gave up being frustrated with my daughter. That's all well and good when she's healthy and I have nothing on which to actually base my frustration. When she's happy and healthy, sure. When she's easy amused and content to play in the family room by herself while I do chores and prepare dinner, sure. Then, I can give up being frustrated with her minor antics and start being more patient.
But when my precious daughter is sick? Going through diaper after diaper? And when the doctors seem dismissive to a worried mom? My worry turns to frustration. Here is me:
Laura! Why won't you drink this pedilyte? What if I put it in a sippy? What about a sippy with a straw? What about a bottle? What about a big girl cup?
Laura! Why won't you eat anything other than toast? You have to eat something! You have lost half a pound in the last week. You were small to begin with!
Laura! Why are you fussing now? OMG, you want MORE toast? Could I interest you in some probiotic-enhanced yogurt? AGH! You are obsessed with toast!
Laura! Stop fussing at the dog to get your toast back from her. You gave her this toast, she ate it.. That means it's all gone. That's right (wiggles hands) all gone. You can't get the bread back from the dog - she has eaten it. No, I'm not giving you more toast just so you can give it to the dog.
So yeah, I might have gotten a little frustrated with Laura because of the situation. I am just so worried. And clearly, worrying leads to frustration. Which Nate says is why he'll live longer than me (although I don't agree that Mr. Obsessed-with-salt is living to 100 like he thinks). Are we the only married couple who debates at length who will die first? Just us? Ookay then... Back to Lent. I gave up being frustrated with Laura. However, I am learning that sacrifice is (and should be!) hard. All I can do is focus on the cause of my frustration - worry - and try to make it better.
However, it would be really nice if Laura could be healthy for a few days, at least!
For Lent this year, I gave up being frustrated with my daughter. That's all well and good when she's healthy and I have nothing on which to actually base my frustration. When she's happy and healthy, sure. When she's easy amused and content to play in the family room by herself while I do chores and prepare dinner, sure. Then, I can give up being frustrated with her minor antics and start being more patient.
But when my precious daughter is sick? Going through diaper after diaper? And when the doctors seem dismissive to a worried mom? My worry turns to frustration. Here is me:
Laura! Why won't you drink this pedilyte? What if I put it in a sippy? What about a sippy with a straw? What about a bottle? What about a big girl cup?
Laura! Why won't you eat anything other than toast? You have to eat something! You have lost half a pound in the last week. You were small to begin with!
Laura! Why are you fussing now? OMG, you want MORE toast? Could I interest you in some probiotic-enhanced yogurt? AGH! You are obsessed with toast!
Laura! Stop fussing at the dog to get your toast back from her. You gave her this toast, she ate it.. That means it's all gone. That's right (wiggles hands) all gone. You can't get the bread back from the dog - she has eaten it. No, I'm not giving you more toast just so you can give it to the dog.
So yeah, I might have gotten a little frustrated with Laura because of the situation. I am just so worried. And clearly, worrying leads to frustration. Which Nate says is why he'll live longer than me (although I don't agree that Mr. Obsessed-with-salt is living to 100 like he thinks). Are we the only married couple who debates at length who will die first? Just us? Ookay then... Back to Lent. I gave up being frustrated with Laura. However, I am learning that sacrifice is (and should be!) hard. All I can do is focus on the cause of my frustration - worry - and try to make it better.
However, it would be really nice if Laura could be healthy for a few days, at least!
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Sound Bites
Laura is home from school today, which should be obvious given her day yesterday. So far we are puke free, and have only gone through two outfits. So far. This whole not going to school thing has been rough on my sick leave. Thankfully, I have a wonderfully understanding boss, as well as a husband with a somewhat flexible schedule.
I say somewhat, because while he has been able to work from home this afternoon, it was not for long enough for me to hop a train to DC, work, and hop a train back to Maryland in time for Nate's evening appointments. So I am working from home this afternoon, upstairs, while Nate entertains Laura downstairs. But since our house is fairly small, I've been able to overhear much of their conversations:
Nate: Laura, that is Daddy's calculator! It helps me count. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Someday you will be able to count just like that, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. But you have to learn to count on your own before you can use the calculator. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5!
Nate: No! Don't pull my laptop off table! Not cool, Laura. Not cool.
Nate: What is it that you want?! Water? No. Juice? No. I don't know what you want!
Me: TRY SOME TOAST! (as I yell down the stairs)
Nate: You want some toast?
Laura: Mmm...
Nate: No! Reese! Don't eat the toast!
Nate: Ok, let's read a book. Go pick out a book.
Laura: Ok!
Nate: Ok!
It's been amusing to hear Nate get so frustrated when clearly the kid wants another piece of toast and not that stinking pedialyte. And so sweet to hear them learning and playing together. And as for me? Not my most productive day. But not my least productive day either!
I say somewhat, because while he has been able to work from home this afternoon, it was not for long enough for me to hop a train to DC, work, and hop a train back to Maryland in time for Nate's evening appointments. So I am working from home this afternoon, upstairs, while Nate entertains Laura downstairs. But since our house is fairly small, I've been able to overhear much of their conversations:
Nate: Laura, that is Daddy's calculator! It helps me count. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Someday you will be able to count just like that, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. But you have to learn to count on your own before you can use the calculator. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5!
Nate: No! Don't pull my laptop off table! Not cool, Laura. Not cool.
Nate: What is it that you want?! Water? No. Juice? No. I don't know what you want!
Me: TRY SOME TOAST! (as I yell down the stairs)
Nate: You want some toast?
Laura: Mmm...
Nate: No! Reese! Don't eat the toast!
Nate: Ok, let's read a book. Go pick out a book.
Laura: Ok!
Nate: Ok!
It's been amusing to hear Nate get so frustrated when clearly the kid wants another piece of toast and not that stinking pedialyte. And so sweet to hear them learning and playing together. And as for me? Not my most productive day. But not my least productive day either!
Sound Bites
Laura is home from school today, which should be obvious given her day yesterday. So far we are puke free, and have only gone through two outfits. So far. This whole not going to school thing has been rough on my sick leave. Thankfully, I have a wonderfully understanding boss, as well as a husband with a somewhat flexible schedule.
I say somewhat, because while he has been able to work from home this afternoon, it was not for long enough for me to hop a train to DC, work, and hop a train back to Maryland in time for Nate's evening appointments. So I am working from home this afternoon, upstairs, while Nate entertains Laura downstairs. But since our house is fairly small, I've been able to overhear much of their conversations:
Nate: Laura, that is Daddy's calculator! It helps me count. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Someday you will be able to count just like that, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. But you have to learn to count on your own before you can use the calculator. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5!
Nate: No! Don't pull my laptop off table! Not cool, Laura. Not cool.
Nate: What is it that you want?! Water? No. Juice? No. I don't know what you want!
Me: TRY SOME TOAST! (as I yell down the stairs)
Nate: You want some toast?
Laura: Mmm...
Nate: No! Reese! Don't eat the toast!
Nate: Ok, let's read a book. Go pick out a book.
Laura: Ok!
Nate: Ok!
It's been amusing to hear Nate get so frustrated when clearly the kid wants another piece of toast and not that stinking pedialyte. And so sweet to hear them learning and playing together. And as for me? Not my most productive day. But not my least productive day either!
I say somewhat, because while he has been able to work from home this afternoon, it was not for long enough for me to hop a train to DC, work, and hop a train back to Maryland in time for Nate's evening appointments. So I am working from home this afternoon, upstairs, while Nate entertains Laura downstairs. But since our house is fairly small, I've been able to overhear much of their conversations:
Nate: Laura, that is Daddy's calculator! It helps me count. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Someday you will be able to count just like that, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. But you have to learn to count on your own before you can use the calculator. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5!
Nate: No! Don't pull my laptop off table! Not cool, Laura. Not cool.
Nate: What is it that you want?! Water? No. Juice? No. I don't know what you want!
Me: TRY SOME TOAST! (as I yell down the stairs)
Nate: You want some toast?
Laura: Mmm...
Nate: No! Reese! Don't eat the toast!
Nate: Ok, let's read a book. Go pick out a book.
Laura: Ok!
Nate: Ok!
It's been amusing to hear Nate get so frustrated when clearly the kid wants another piece of toast and not that stinking pedialyte. And so sweet to hear them learning and playing together. And as for me? Not my most productive day. But not my least productive day either!
Monday, March 28, 2011
C'mon day! Get worse!
I just got one of the worst phone calls from day care:
"Hi, Laura is throwing up all over the place."
my poor baby! She must be terrified right now. Throwing up is so scary. And I feel awful for her teachers. Puke is gross. I can't imagine how awful it must be for them to keep calm, keep the other babies safe, and take care of Laura.
Nate's on his way, and I'm on the train to get home as soon as I can. But talk about feeling helpless. At least I was THERE for Laura all weekend to give her hugs. Where am I for her today? Sitting in a pointless meeting, and now I'm sitting in a rumbling train car trying my best to get home.
"Hi, Laura is throwing up all over the place."
my poor baby! She must be terrified right now. Throwing up is so scary. And I feel awful for her teachers. Puke is gross. I can't imagine how awful it must be for them to keep calm, keep the other babies safe, and take care of Laura.
Nate's on his way, and I'm on the train to get home as soon as I can. But talk about feeling helpless. At least I was THERE for Laura all weekend to give her hugs. Where am I for her today? Sitting in a pointless meeting, and now I'm sitting in a rumbling train car trying my best to get home.
Rough Weekend
I had a rough weekend. Actually, Laura had a rough weekend while I stood by and watched helplessly. Laura was sick, but cheerful, last week as she was diagnosed with ear infections. The doctor started her on antibiotics and sent us on our way. Laura's eyes cleared up immediately, and I figured she was all set. I clearly thought she was just fine, as on Wednesday I wrote about how awesome my daughter actually is.
Then Thursday hit. And Laura started going through diapers the way I go through M&Ms: quickly. She was still tearing through diapers (and outfits) on Friday. It was worse on Saturday. And even worse yesterday when she started throwing up on top of everything else. Her antibiotic, Suprax, is the devil drug. Laura was miserable, wanting to be held every minute. Not interested in eating or drinking. Barely able to show interest in even her most favorite games.
If you think Laura was bad off, you should have seen me! I was a wreck. A blubbery, emotional wreck. I have never seen Laura so sad, and it just tore at my heart strings. I was completely helpless to make her feel better. And I'll admit it - I even got a little frustrated. Laura and I went to the doctor this morning, where we were met by a completely cold and unconcerned physician. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes as he dismissed my worries about her frequent bowel movements, loss of interest and loss of weight. Laura now weighs 18 pounds; two ounces less than she weighed at her 12-month check-up two months ago. I feel like I have a right to be worried about that! But who am I to say anything; I'm just her mother.
I spent all weekend hunkering after a cookie. I went to CVS to get more Pedialyte, and was tempted by the Easter candy all around me. I wanted a Little Debbie snack cake so badly, I might have fought someone for one. I just wanted to eat something sweet and sugary. And I wasn't even hungry. It's hard to have an appetite when (a) your child is that sick and (b) the diapers are that nasty. I just wanted to drown my emotions in sugar. As if a fattening snack would make me feel better about Laura.
I declined all of these snacks. I didn't cave once to the emotional cravings. In actuality, I probably should have had more to drink (I'm sure I'm dehydrated) and eaten an actual meal of food. But I just couldn't. Even now, as I sit at work thinking about my daughter, I feel the sting in my eyes from such an emotionally draining weekend. Laura is at school this afternoon. She perked up the moment she saw her two best friends playing on the floor. I set her down, and she didn't even blink as I walked away. I guess Laura just needed to get out and see the world.
No one ever said being a mom is easy. I just didn't expect quite so many tears.
Then Thursday hit. And Laura started going through diapers the way I go through M&Ms: quickly. She was still tearing through diapers (and outfits) on Friday. It was worse on Saturday. And even worse yesterday when she started throwing up on top of everything else. Her antibiotic, Suprax, is the devil drug. Laura was miserable, wanting to be held every minute. Not interested in eating or drinking. Barely able to show interest in even her most favorite games.
If you think Laura was bad off, you should have seen me! I was a wreck. A blubbery, emotional wreck. I have never seen Laura so sad, and it just tore at my heart strings. I was completely helpless to make her feel better. And I'll admit it - I even got a little frustrated. Laura and I went to the doctor this morning, where we were met by a completely cold and unconcerned physician. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes as he dismissed my worries about her frequent bowel movements, loss of interest and loss of weight. Laura now weighs 18 pounds; two ounces less than she weighed at her 12-month check-up two months ago. I feel like I have a right to be worried about that! But who am I to say anything; I'm just her mother.
I spent all weekend hunkering after a cookie. I went to CVS to get more Pedialyte, and was tempted by the Easter candy all around me. I wanted a Little Debbie snack cake so badly, I might have fought someone for one. I just wanted to eat something sweet and sugary. And I wasn't even hungry. It's hard to have an appetite when (a) your child is that sick and (b) the diapers are that nasty. I just wanted to drown my emotions in sugar. As if a fattening snack would make me feel better about Laura.
I declined all of these snacks. I didn't cave once to the emotional cravings. In actuality, I probably should have had more to drink (I'm sure I'm dehydrated) and eaten an actual meal of food. But I just couldn't. Even now, as I sit at work thinking about my daughter, I feel the sting in my eyes from such an emotionally draining weekend. Laura is at school this afternoon. She perked up the moment she saw her two best friends playing on the floor. I set her down, and she didn't even blink as I walked away. I guess Laura just needed to get out and see the world.
No one ever said being a mom is easy. I just didn't expect quite so many tears.
C'mon day! Get worse!
I just got one of the worst phone calls from day care:
"Hi, Laura is throwing up all over the place."
my poor baby! She must be terrified right now. Throwing up is so scary. And I feel awful for her teachers. Puke is gross. I can't imagine how awful it must be for them to keep calm, keep the other babies safe, and take care of Laura.
Nate's on his way, and I'm on the train to get home as soon as I can. But talk about feeling helpless. At least I was THERE for Laura all weekend to give her hugs. Where am I for her today? Sitting in a pointless meeting, and now I'm sitting in a rumbling train car trying my best to get home.
"Hi, Laura is throwing up all over the place."
my poor baby! She must be terrified right now. Throwing up is so scary. And I feel awful for her teachers. Puke is gross. I can't imagine how awful it must be for them to keep calm, keep the other babies safe, and take care of Laura.
Nate's on his way, and I'm on the train to get home as soon as I can. But talk about feeling helpless. At least I was THERE for Laura all weekend to give her hugs. Where am I for her today? Sitting in a pointless meeting, and now I'm sitting in a rumbling train car trying my best to get home.
Rough Weekend
I had a rough weekend. Actually, Laura had a rough weekend while I stood by and watched helplessly. Laura was sick, but cheerful, last week as she was diagnosed with ear infections. The doctor started her on antibiotics and sent us on our way. Laura's eyes cleared up immediately, and I figured she was all set. I clearly thought she was just fine, as on Wednesday I wrote about how awesome my daughter actually is.
Then Thursday hit. And Laura started going through diapers the way I go through M&Ms: quickly. She was still tearing through diapers (and outfits) on Friday. It was worse on Saturday. And even worse yesterday when she started throwing up on top of everything else. Her antibiotic, Suprax, is the devil drug. Laura was miserable, wanting to be held every minute. Not interested in eating or drinking. Barely able to show interest in even her most favorite games.
If you think Laura was bad off, you should have seen me! I was a wreck. A blubbery, emotional wreck. I have never seen Laura so sad, and it just tore at my heart strings. I was completely helpless to make her feel better. And I'll admit it - I even got a little frustrated. Laura and I went to the doctor this morning, where we were met by a completely cold and unconcerned physician. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes as he dismissed my worries about her frequent bowel movements, loss of interest and loss of weight. Laura now weighs 18 pounds; two ounces less than she weighed at her 12-month check-up two months ago. I feel like I have a right to be worried about that! But who am I to say anything; I'm just her mother.
I spent all weekend hunkering after a cookie. I went to CVS to get more Pedialyte, and was tempted by the Easter candy all around me. I wanted a Little Debbie snack cake so badly, I might have fought someone for one. I just wanted to eat something sweet and sugary. And I wasn't even hungry. It's hard to have an appetite when (a) your child is that sick and (b) the diapers are that nasty. I just wanted to drown my emotions in sugar. As if a fattening snack would make me feel better about Laura.
I declined all of these snacks. I didn't cave once to the emotional cravings. In actuality, I probably should have had more to drink (I'm sure I'm dehydrated) and eaten an actual meal of food. But I just couldn't. Even now, as I sit at work thinking about my daughter, I feel the sting in my eyes from such an emotionally draining weekend. Laura is at school this afternoon. She perked up the moment she saw her two best friends playing on the floor. I set her down, and she didn't even blink as I walked away. I guess Laura just needed to get out and see the world.
No one ever said being a mom is easy. I just didn't expect quite so many tears.
Then Thursday hit. And Laura started going through diapers the way I go through M&Ms: quickly. She was still tearing through diapers (and outfits) on Friday. It was worse on Saturday. And even worse yesterday when she started throwing up on top of everything else. Her antibiotic, Suprax, is the devil drug. Laura was miserable, wanting to be held every minute. Not interested in eating or drinking. Barely able to show interest in even her most favorite games.
If you think Laura was bad off, you should have seen me! I was a wreck. A blubbery, emotional wreck. I have never seen Laura so sad, and it just tore at my heart strings. I was completely helpless to make her feel better. And I'll admit it - I even got a little frustrated. Laura and I went to the doctor this morning, where we were met by a completely cold and unconcerned physician. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes as he dismissed my worries about her frequent bowel movements, loss of interest and loss of weight. Laura now weighs 18 pounds; two ounces less than she weighed at her 12-month check-up two months ago. I feel like I have a right to be worried about that! But who am I to say anything; I'm just her mother.
I spent all weekend hunkering after a cookie. I went to CVS to get more Pedialyte, and was tempted by the Easter candy all around me. I wanted a Little Debbie snack cake so badly, I might have fought someone for one. I just wanted to eat something sweet and sugary. And I wasn't even hungry. It's hard to have an appetite when (a) your child is that sick and (b) the diapers are that nasty. I just wanted to drown my emotions in sugar. As if a fattening snack would make me feel better about Laura.
I declined all of these snacks. I didn't cave once to the emotional cravings. In actuality, I probably should have had more to drink (I'm sure I'm dehydrated) and eaten an actual meal of food. But I just couldn't. Even now, as I sit at work thinking about my daughter, I feel the sting in my eyes from such an emotionally draining weekend. Laura is at school this afternoon. She perked up the moment she saw her two best friends playing on the floor. I set her down, and she didn't even blink as I walked away. I guess Laura just needed to get out and see the world.
No one ever said being a mom is easy. I just didn't expect quite so many tears.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Balls
I've got balls. Lots of balls. I have lots of balls up in the air. The juggling sort. This is metaphorical, if you hadn't figured that out.
In real life, I can't juggle for shit. That's how you know this is a metaphor.
I have lots of balls in the air right now, and so far I've been able to keep them all going round and round. I haven't dropped any balls. Yet. But I can't shake this feeling that something is going to drop and soon.
There is just too much going on for me to keep hold of all the balls. It would be really nice if I could just shuffle one or two of the balls out of my act. But which balls would those be?
The house? Certainly not. It's a pigsty as it is. I can't let it get any worse! That ball stays in the air.
The husband? No way. I like him too much. He's cute and he makes 2 or 3 slice and bake cookies for us to share almost every night. There is no way I am letting go of a ball that makes me cookies!
The baby? As if! She is noisy and happy and ever present. And that's the best part about her. She gets into everything, which is why I am a fan of baby gates. Even with two ear infections, she is cheerful. Playing with Laura is relaxing.
So that leaves work. Work where I have a whole separate juggling act going on. I am managing these files and that project. And don't forget to verify those details. And what about the locations? How could I forget to update the locations? Did I remember to respond to that email? Are all the emails printed out for the files? Am I being polite enough to that coworker? Can I have a cookie from the kitchen? What else is on the to-do list? Where on earth did I put my pencil? Don't forget that meeting! And that other meeting! And all that imaging that is piling up! Don't forget to completely reorganize everything to make things easier to find.
I think the work ball is the one giving me the most trouble. But it's also a really important ball to keep up in the air. I have a great, understanding boss. But I can't let her down. I can ask for help, sure. But I'm not even sure at this point what I would most like help with. I guess I'm just starting to realize how many balls I have up in the air, and that number is daunting. I look up at all the balls swirling over my head, and I get dizzy with the movement. I'll keep all those balls going. I'm just not sure how.
It's going to be a very busy summer.
In real life, I can't juggle for shit. That's how you know this is a metaphor.
I have lots of balls in the air right now, and so far I've been able to keep them all going round and round. I haven't dropped any balls. Yet. But I can't shake this feeling that something is going to drop and soon.
There is just too much going on for me to keep hold of all the balls. It would be really nice if I could just shuffle one or two of the balls out of my act. But which balls would those be?
The house? Certainly not. It's a pigsty as it is. I can't let it get any worse! That ball stays in the air.
The husband? No way. I like him too much. He's cute and he makes 2 or 3 slice and bake cookies for us to share almost every night. There is no way I am letting go of a ball that makes me cookies!
The baby? As if! She is noisy and happy and ever present. And that's the best part about her. She gets into everything, which is why I am a fan of baby gates. Even with two ear infections, she is cheerful. Playing with Laura is relaxing.
So that leaves work. Work where I have a whole separate juggling act going on. I am managing these files and that project. And don't forget to verify those details. And what about the locations? How could I forget to update the locations? Did I remember to respond to that email? Are all the emails printed out for the files? Am I being polite enough to that coworker? Can I have a cookie from the kitchen? What else is on the to-do list? Where on earth did I put my pencil? Don't forget that meeting! And that other meeting! And all that imaging that is piling up! Don't forget to completely reorganize everything to make things easier to find.
I think the work ball is the one giving me the most trouble. But it's also a really important ball to keep up in the air. I have a great, understanding boss. But I can't let her down. I can ask for help, sure. But I'm not even sure at this point what I would most like help with. I guess I'm just starting to realize how many balls I have up in the air, and that number is daunting. I look up at all the balls swirling over my head, and I get dizzy with the movement. I'll keep all those balls going. I'm just not sure how.
It's going to be a very busy summer.
Balls
I've got balls. Lots of balls. I have lots of balls up in the air. The juggling sort. This is metaphorical, if you hadn't figured that out.
In real life, I can't juggle for shit. That's how you know this is a metaphor.
I have lots of balls in the air right now, and so far I've been able to keep them all going round and round. I haven't dropped any balls. Yet. But I can't shake this feeling that something is going to drop and soon.
There is just too much going on for me to keep hold of all the balls. It would be really nice if I could just shuffle one or two of the balls out of my act. But which balls would those be?
The house? Certainly not. It's a pigsty as it is. I can't let it get any worse! That ball stays in the air.
The husband? No way. I like him too much. He's cute and he makes 2 or 3 slice and bake cookies for us to share almost every night. There is no way I am letting go of a ball that makes me cookies!
The baby? As if! She is noisy and happy and ever present. And that's the best part about her. She gets into everything, which is why I am a fan of baby gates. Even with two ear infections, she is cheerful. Playing with Laura is relaxing.
So that leaves work. Work where I have a whole separate juggling act going on. I am managing these files and that project. And don't forget to verify those details. And what about the locations? How could I forget to update the locations? Did I remember to respond to that email? Are all the emails printed out for the files? Am I being polite enough to that coworker? Can I have a cookie from the kitchen? What else is on the to-do list? Where on earth did I put my pencil? Don't forget that meeting! And that other meeting! And all that imaging that is piling up! Don't forget to completely reorganize everything to make things easier to find.
I think the work ball is the one giving me the most trouble. But it's also a really important ball to keep up in the air. I have a great, understanding boss. But I can't let her down. I can ask for help, sure. But I'm not even sure at this point what I would most like help with. I guess I'm just starting to realize how many balls I have up in the air, and that number is daunting. I look up at all the balls swirling over my head, and I get dizzy with the movement. I'll keep all those balls going. I'm just not sure how.
It's going to be a very busy summer.
In real life, I can't juggle for shit. That's how you know this is a metaphor.
I have lots of balls in the air right now, and so far I've been able to keep them all going round and round. I haven't dropped any balls. Yet. But I can't shake this feeling that something is going to drop and soon.
There is just too much going on for me to keep hold of all the balls. It would be really nice if I could just shuffle one or two of the balls out of my act. But which balls would those be?
The house? Certainly not. It's a pigsty as it is. I can't let it get any worse! That ball stays in the air.
The husband? No way. I like him too much. He's cute and he makes 2 or 3 slice and bake cookies for us to share almost every night. There is no way I am letting go of a ball that makes me cookies!
The baby? As if! She is noisy and happy and ever present. And that's the best part about her. She gets into everything, which is why I am a fan of baby gates. Even with two ear infections, she is cheerful. Playing with Laura is relaxing.
So that leaves work. Work where I have a whole separate juggling act going on. I am managing these files and that project. And don't forget to verify those details. And what about the locations? How could I forget to update the locations? Did I remember to respond to that email? Are all the emails printed out for the files? Am I being polite enough to that coworker? Can I have a cookie from the kitchen? What else is on the to-do list? Where on earth did I put my pencil? Don't forget that meeting! And that other meeting! And all that imaging that is piling up! Don't forget to completely reorganize everything to make things easier to find.
I think the work ball is the one giving me the most trouble. But it's also a really important ball to keep up in the air. I have a great, understanding boss. But I can't let her down. I can ask for help, sure. But I'm not even sure at this point what I would most like help with. I guess I'm just starting to realize how many balls I have up in the air, and that number is daunting. I look up at all the balls swirling over my head, and I get dizzy with the movement. I'll keep all those balls going. I'm just not sure how.
It's going to be a very busy summer.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
It's All About Sacrifice
It's Lent. I'm Catholic. I had to give something up. You know, because it's Lent and stuff and that's what you do. You give something up for forty days and forty nights, and then you go crazy like a glutton on Easter Morning, gorging yourself with everything you gave up on Ash Wednesday. As a child, I sometimes gave up gum, which was sort of a cop-out, since I have never really liked gum. Another year, I gave up red meat - except for the week I spent with my French class in France. For the last few years, I have given up the snacks my coworkers leave in the kitchen. But this year I wanted to give up something more meaningful.
Unfortunately for me, by lunch on Ash Wednesday, I had already (a) bought breakfast at (b) Starbucks, where I had (c) coffee which I followed with (d) a snack of (e) chocolate that I (f) got from the kitchen at work. I had broken six sacrifices on the first day alone. I needed to find something else to give up. Something that would, hopefully, be a little more meaningful than candy or coffee.
I wracked my brain all day Wednesday and Thursday. I couldn't come up with anything. On Friday, it hit me like a bolt of lightning. Laura was screaming over nothing, and I was getting more and more upset. I turned to my favorite phrase: "Laura, you are driving me NUTS!" That's when I realized that I had something real, something meaningful, to give up for Lent.
I gave up being frustrated with my daughter.
It has been two weeks since I gave up being frustrated with Laura. By the second day, I had discovered the cause of my frustration: worry. Whenever I worried about something regarding Laura, I started to get frustrated with her. Not eating her dinner turned me into a frustrated psychopath. Surely my daughter wasn't getting enough nutrients! Doesn't she know she needs to eat?! Argh! And even worse? The more I worried, the more frustrated (with Laura) I became when I felt Nate wasn't being supportive enough.
So I stopped worrying about Laura's food intake. She's a happy, healthy little girl, so what does it matter? If she's hungry, she'll eat. She certainly never turns down a strawberry or banana, so she's getting something. I stopped worrying, and my frustration levels plummeted.
It has been two weeks since I gave up being frustrated with my daughter. And in that time, I have played more. I have laughed more. I have enjoyed my daughter more. And by not feeling constantly frustrated, I have been able to spend more time keeping our house (relatively) tidy. I have cooked dinner for my family, which we have eaten together as a family. Laura is eating more consistently, and is picking up new words and phrases like it's her job (which I guess maybe it is).
It's been two weeks since I gave up being frustrated with my daughter. My life is better. I have spent more energy reflecting on my fortunate life and my wonderful family. In the past two weeks, I have been a better wife, mother and person. This is the best thing I have ever given up for Lent.
Unfortunately for me, by lunch on Ash Wednesday, I had already (a) bought breakfast at (b) Starbucks, where I had (c) coffee which I followed with (d) a snack of (e) chocolate that I (f) got from the kitchen at work. I had broken six sacrifices on the first day alone. I needed to find something else to give up. Something that would, hopefully, be a little more meaningful than candy or coffee.
I wracked my brain all day Wednesday and Thursday. I couldn't come up with anything. On Friday, it hit me like a bolt of lightning. Laura was screaming over nothing, and I was getting more and more upset. I turned to my favorite phrase: "Laura, you are driving me NUTS!" That's when I realized that I had something real, something meaningful, to give up for Lent.
I gave up being frustrated with my daughter.
It has been two weeks since I gave up being frustrated with Laura. By the second day, I had discovered the cause of my frustration: worry. Whenever I worried about something regarding Laura, I started to get frustrated with her. Not eating her dinner turned me into a frustrated psychopath. Surely my daughter wasn't getting enough nutrients! Doesn't she know she needs to eat?! Argh! And even worse? The more I worried, the more frustrated (with Laura) I became when I felt Nate wasn't being supportive enough.
So I stopped worrying about Laura's food intake. She's a happy, healthy little girl, so what does it matter? If she's hungry, she'll eat. She certainly never turns down a strawberry or banana, so she's getting something. I stopped worrying, and my frustration levels plummeted.
It has been two weeks since I gave up being frustrated with my daughter. And in that time, I have played more. I have laughed more. I have enjoyed my daughter more. And by not feeling constantly frustrated, I have been able to spend more time keeping our house (relatively) tidy. I have cooked dinner for my family, which we have eaten together as a family. Laura is eating more consistently, and is picking up new words and phrases like it's her job (which I guess maybe it is).
It's been two weeks since I gave up being frustrated with my daughter. My life is better. I have spent more energy reflecting on my fortunate life and my wonderful family. In the past two weeks, I have been a better wife, mother and person. This is the best thing I have ever given up for Lent.
It's All About Sacrifice
It's Lent. I'm Catholic. I had to give something up. You know, because it's Lent and stuff and that's what you do. You give something up for forty days and forty nights, and then you go crazy like a glutton on Easter Morning, gorging yourself with everything you gave up on Ash Wednesday. As a child, I sometimes gave up gum, which was sort of a cop-out, since I have never really liked gum. Another year, I gave up red meat - except for the week I spent with my French class in France. For the last few years, I have given up the snacks my coworkers leave in the kitchen. But this year I wanted to give up something more meaningful.
Unfortunately for me, by lunch on Ash Wednesday, I had already (a) bought breakfast at (b) Starbucks, where I had (c) coffee which I followed with (d) a snack of (e) chocolate that I (f) got from the kitchen at work. I had broken six sacrifices on the first day alone. I needed to find something else to give up. Something that would, hopefully, be a little more meaningful than candy or coffee.
I wracked my brain all day Wednesday and Thursday. I couldn't come up with anything. On Friday, it hit me like a bolt of lightning. Laura was screaming over nothing, and I was getting more and more upset. I turned to my favorite phrase: "Laura, you are driving me NUTS!" That's when I realized that I had something real, something meaningful, to give up for Lent.
I gave up being frustrated with my daughter.
It has been two weeks since I gave up being frustrated with Laura. By the second day, I had discovered the cause of my frustration: worry. Whenever I worried about something regarding Laura, I started to get frustrated with her. Not eating her dinner turned me into a frustrated psychopath. Surely my daughter wasn't getting enough nutrients! Doesn't she know she needs to eat?! Argh! And even worse? The more I worried, the more frustrated (with Laura) I became when I felt Nate wasn't being supportive enough.
So I stopped worrying about Laura's food intake. She's a happy, healthy little girl, so what does it matter? If she's hungry, she'll eat. She certainly never turns down a strawberry or banana, so she's getting something. I stopped worrying, and my frustration levels plummeted.
It has been two weeks since I gave up being frustrated with my daughter. And in that time, I have played more. I have laughed more. I have enjoyed my daughter more. And by not feeling constantly frustrated, I have been able to spend more time keeping our house (relatively) tidy. I have cooked dinner for my family, which we have eaten together as a family. Laura is eating more consistently, and is picking up new words and phrases like it's her job (which I guess maybe it is).
It's been two weeks since I gave up being frustrated with my daughter. My life is better. I have spent more energy reflecting on my fortunate life and my wonderful family. In the past two weeks, I have been a better wife, mother and person. This is the best thing I have ever given up for Lent.
Unfortunately for me, by lunch on Ash Wednesday, I had already (a) bought breakfast at (b) Starbucks, where I had (c) coffee which I followed with (d) a snack of (e) chocolate that I (f) got from the kitchen at work. I had broken six sacrifices on the first day alone. I needed to find something else to give up. Something that would, hopefully, be a little more meaningful than candy or coffee.
I wracked my brain all day Wednesday and Thursday. I couldn't come up with anything. On Friday, it hit me like a bolt of lightning. Laura was screaming over nothing, and I was getting more and more upset. I turned to my favorite phrase: "Laura, you are driving me NUTS!" That's when I realized that I had something real, something meaningful, to give up for Lent.
I gave up being frustrated with my daughter.
It has been two weeks since I gave up being frustrated with Laura. By the second day, I had discovered the cause of my frustration: worry. Whenever I worried about something regarding Laura, I started to get frustrated with her. Not eating her dinner turned me into a frustrated psychopath. Surely my daughter wasn't getting enough nutrients! Doesn't she know she needs to eat?! Argh! And even worse? The more I worried, the more frustrated (with Laura) I became when I felt Nate wasn't being supportive enough.
So I stopped worrying about Laura's food intake. She's a happy, healthy little girl, so what does it matter? If she's hungry, she'll eat. She certainly never turns down a strawberry or banana, so she's getting something. I stopped worrying, and my frustration levels plummeted.
It has been two weeks since I gave up being frustrated with my daughter. And in that time, I have played more. I have laughed more. I have enjoyed my daughter more. And by not feeling constantly frustrated, I have been able to spend more time keeping our house (relatively) tidy. I have cooked dinner for my family, which we have eaten together as a family. Laura is eating more consistently, and is picking up new words and phrases like it's her job (which I guess maybe it is).
It's been two weeks since I gave up being frustrated with my daughter. My life is better. I have spent more energy reflecting on my fortunate life and my wonderful family. In the past two weeks, I have been a better wife, mother and person. This is the best thing I have ever given up for Lent.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Crusty
Laura and I had quite the weekend. It started off well enough - our flight into Boston Logan took off on time and arrived 20 minutes early. Laura and I zoomed through BWI; we totally aced the security line. This was especially impressive since Laura and I had to get a stroller, a duffel bag, and two purses through the scanner while we walked through the magnetometer with our shoes off. Did you know that babies have to take their shoes off too? Neither did I. Anyway, we made it to Boston just fine.
From the airport, we made it just fine to my parent's house. Laura slept part of the ride, and then stayed up playing sweetly till 10 pm, while I visited with my family. It was pretty lovely.
Saturday, Laura woke up happily enough. Except that she couldn't open her eyes. They were glued shut with yellow goop. Oook... this has happened before, I'll just hold a cold compress to her eyes and everything will be fine. Except that it wasn't fine. Her eyes got goopier and crustier every hour that passed.
My mom, dad and I finally looked at each other and decided it was time to take Laura to the clinic. I found a CVS minute clinic near my parents, and we buckled her up for the ride. Fifteen minutes later, we realized that CVS can't see anyone under 24 months old. Laura is 14 months. Strike one. So I called Laura's pediatrician to see if they could do anything over the phone. Apparently, the doctor can't do anything over the phone for a child under 24 months either. Strike two. So then, my mom found a pediatric clinic. We called before heading blindly off - good thing: they wouldn't take my insurance. Strike three. So we finally called the local ER to see how long a wait time they were experiencing. The nurse thanked me for calling ahead, and then told me that the wait was several hours and that I should avoid bringing a baby at all costs. Strike four.
So I gave Laura some children's Zyrtec and kept her at my parents. Her eyes were even worse yesterday (Sunday), but what could we do but get back on the plane? Our flight home took off and landed on time, but was not nearly as seamless as our flight up. We were seated next to a very cranky man, who wanted no part of sitting beside a healthy baby, much less a kid with oozing, crusty eyes! Frankly, I didn't really want to be sitting with us!
So Laura and I are home from school and work today. We have an appointment at 11:45. I just hope my poor little girl is feeling better (and looking better) soon.
From the airport, we made it just fine to my parent's house. Laura slept part of the ride, and then stayed up playing sweetly till 10 pm, while I visited with my family. It was pretty lovely.
Saturday, Laura woke up happily enough. Except that she couldn't open her eyes. They were glued shut with yellow goop. Oook... this has happened before, I'll just hold a cold compress to her eyes and everything will be fine. Except that it wasn't fine. Her eyes got goopier and crustier every hour that passed.
My mom, dad and I finally looked at each other and decided it was time to take Laura to the clinic. I found a CVS minute clinic near my parents, and we buckled her up for the ride. Fifteen minutes later, we realized that CVS can't see anyone under 24 months old. Laura is 14 months. Strike one. So I called Laura's pediatrician to see if they could do anything over the phone. Apparently, the doctor can't do anything over the phone for a child under 24 months either. Strike two. So then, my mom found a pediatric clinic. We called before heading blindly off - good thing: they wouldn't take my insurance. Strike three. So we finally called the local ER to see how long a wait time they were experiencing. The nurse thanked me for calling ahead, and then told me that the wait was several hours and that I should avoid bringing a baby at all costs. Strike four.
So I gave Laura some children's Zyrtec and kept her at my parents. Her eyes were even worse yesterday (Sunday), but what could we do but get back on the plane? Our flight home took off and landed on time, but was not nearly as seamless as our flight up. We were seated next to a very cranky man, who wanted no part of sitting beside a healthy baby, much less a kid with oozing, crusty eyes! Frankly, I didn't really want to be sitting with us!
So Laura and I are home from school and work today. We have an appointment at 11:45. I just hope my poor little girl is feeling better (and looking better) soon.
Crusty
Laura and I had quite the weekend. It started off well enough - our flight into Boston Logan took off on time and arrived 20 minutes early. Laura and I zoomed through BWI; we totally aced the security line. This was especially impressive since Laura and I had to get a stroller, a duffel bag, and two purses through the scanner while we walked through the magnetometer with our shoes off. Did you know that babies have to take their shoes off too? Neither did I. Anyway, we made it to Boston just fine.
From the airport, we made it just fine to my parent's house. Laura slept part of the ride, and then stayed up playing sweetly till 10 pm, while I visited with my family. It was pretty lovely.
Saturday, Laura woke up happily enough. Except that she couldn't open her eyes. They were glued shut with yellow goop. Oook... this has happened before, I'll just hold a cold compress to her eyes and everything will be fine. Except that it wasn't fine. Her eyes got goopier and crustier every hour that passed.
My mom, dad and I finally looked at each other and decided it was time to take Laura to the clinic. I found a CVS minute clinic near my parents, and we buckled her up for the ride. Fifteen minutes later, we realized that CVS can't see anyone under 24 months old. Laura is 14 months. Strike one. So I called Laura's pediatrician to see if they could do anything over the phone. Apparently, the doctor can't do anything over the phone for a child under 24 months either. Strike two. So then, my mom found a pediatric clinic. We called before heading blindly off - good thing: they wouldn't take my insurance. Strike three. So we finally called the local ER to see how long a wait time they were experiencing. The nurse thanked me for calling ahead, and then told me that the wait was several hours and that I should avoid bringing a baby at all costs. Strike four.
So I gave Laura some children's Zyrtec and kept her at my parents. Her eyes were even worse yesterday (Sunday), but what could we do but get back on the plane? Our flight home took off and landed on time, but was not nearly as seamless as our flight up. We were seated next to a very cranky man, who wanted no part of sitting beside a healthy baby, much less a kid with oozing, crusty eyes! Frankly, I didn't really want to be sitting with us!
So Laura and I are home from school and work today. We have an appointment at 11:45. I just hope my poor little girl is feeling better (and looking better) soon.
From the airport, we made it just fine to my parent's house. Laura slept part of the ride, and then stayed up playing sweetly till 10 pm, while I visited with my family. It was pretty lovely.
Saturday, Laura woke up happily enough. Except that she couldn't open her eyes. They were glued shut with yellow goop. Oook... this has happened before, I'll just hold a cold compress to her eyes and everything will be fine. Except that it wasn't fine. Her eyes got goopier and crustier every hour that passed.
My mom, dad and I finally looked at each other and decided it was time to take Laura to the clinic. I found a CVS minute clinic near my parents, and we buckled her up for the ride. Fifteen minutes later, we realized that CVS can't see anyone under 24 months old. Laura is 14 months. Strike one. So I called Laura's pediatrician to see if they could do anything over the phone. Apparently, the doctor can't do anything over the phone for a child under 24 months either. Strike two. So then, my mom found a pediatric clinic. We called before heading blindly off - good thing: they wouldn't take my insurance. Strike three. So we finally called the local ER to see how long a wait time they were experiencing. The nurse thanked me for calling ahead, and then told me that the wait was several hours and that I should avoid bringing a baby at all costs. Strike four.
So I gave Laura some children's Zyrtec and kept her at my parents. Her eyes were even worse yesterday (Sunday), but what could we do but get back on the plane? Our flight home took off and landed on time, but was not nearly as seamless as our flight up. We were seated next to a very cranky man, who wanted no part of sitting beside a healthy baby, much less a kid with oozing, crusty eyes! Frankly, I didn't really want to be sitting with us!
So Laura and I are home from school and work today. We have an appointment at 11:45. I just hope my poor little girl is feeling better (and looking better) soon.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Stouffer's Might Be Onto Something
I am sure you have heard the Stouffer's ad campaign, Let's Fix Dinner. The premise is that families who eat together at least once a week have healthier, happier children. I grew up in a family where we ate dinner together, at the table, every night. My mom made all our food, my siblings and I set the table, and my dad walked into the house after a long day in a suit and tie just as dinner was ready. We sat at the table and talked about our days. We would often stay at the table long after we had finished eating; our conversation had been that enjoyable.
That's not to say that we never had arguments or hurt feelings or tears at the table. We didn't always like what my mom made us for dinner. We weren't always all together, especially as each of us kids grew a little older and a little more busy in the evenings after school. But we are a fairly happy and healthy family. I always knew I could count on my parents to listen to me and to care about my day. Based on my happy childhood, it should seem fairly obvious to me that family dinner is a good thing. And yet, I have had a really hard time trying to figure out how to feed Laura, Nate and myself on a nightly basis.
Laura and I get home from work and school around 6. Laura is hungry and noisy, so I try to feed her a dinner in which she has absolutely no interest. The dog is delighted to receive, albeit secondhand, a second dinner of bite-sized whatever. I get frustrated and banish baby and dog to the gated family room, and try to make a grown-up dinner to be eaten in the family room with the noisy baby and dog while watching TV. Laura runs amok through the room, a veritable tornado of evening playtime, grabbing a bite of this or that off our plates as she zooms by. Most of what she grabs winds up in the dog's mouth. Laura hardly eats a thing (after barely eating anything at school), and goes to bed hungry. I know she's hungry, because she wakes up crying around 2am.
This is hardly a happy, healthy way to feed my family. I have been so frustrated with Laura's eating habits, and am determined to make a change. I think Stouffer's is onto something: eating at the table as a family is a really good thing. This evening, I made the change.
I stuck Laura in her high chair as soon as we got home with her favorite snack - some cut up grapes. That kept her quiet until I finished prepping dinner. I let Laura play in the kitchen at my feet as I unpacked her school bag and let dinner simmer on the stove. Nate came down for dinner around 7:30, just as everything was finishing up. I quickly threw some fresh spinach in with the chicken to wilt, and put dinner on the table.
Laura received a small plate of the chicken, spinach and pasta that Nate and I were eating, which she promptly dumped all over her tray. But that's fine - she was actually mildly interested in the food in front of her. Nate and I sat on either side of her, with actual plates of dinner and napkins and silverware! And no TV! And we were talking like married people sometimes do! It already felt better.
And then, a miracle. I airplaned a small piece of spinach on my fork into Laura's mouth. She started to spit the food out, but I kept the fork against her lips. She thought for a second, re-tasted the spinach, and then shoved it in her mouth and signed for more. My daughter wanted more! Spinach of all things! I was happy to oblige. In the end, Laura ate two bites of pasta, four or five bites of chicken, and at least ten bites of spinach. This was a major accomplishment. My daughter ate a dinner that consisted of more than grapes, freeze-dried strawberries, and banana puffs.
I think family dinner really might work.
That's not to say that we never had arguments or hurt feelings or tears at the table. We didn't always like what my mom made us for dinner. We weren't always all together, especially as each of us kids grew a little older and a little more busy in the evenings after school. But we are a fairly happy and healthy family. I always knew I could count on my parents to listen to me and to care about my day. Based on my happy childhood, it should seem fairly obvious to me that family dinner is a good thing. And yet, I have had a really hard time trying to figure out how to feed Laura, Nate and myself on a nightly basis.
Laura and I get home from work and school around 6. Laura is hungry and noisy, so I try to feed her a dinner in which she has absolutely no interest. The dog is delighted to receive, albeit secondhand, a second dinner of bite-sized whatever. I get frustrated and banish baby and dog to the gated family room, and try to make a grown-up dinner to be eaten in the family room with the noisy baby and dog while watching TV. Laura runs amok through the room, a veritable tornado of evening playtime, grabbing a bite of this or that off our plates as she zooms by. Most of what she grabs winds up in the dog's mouth. Laura hardly eats a thing (after barely eating anything at school), and goes to bed hungry. I know she's hungry, because she wakes up crying around 2am.
This is hardly a happy, healthy way to feed my family. I have been so frustrated with Laura's eating habits, and am determined to make a change. I think Stouffer's is onto something: eating at the table as a family is a really good thing. This evening, I made the change.
I stuck Laura in her high chair as soon as we got home with her favorite snack - some cut up grapes. That kept her quiet until I finished prepping dinner. I let Laura play in the kitchen at my feet as I unpacked her school bag and let dinner simmer on the stove. Nate came down for dinner around 7:30, just as everything was finishing up. I quickly threw some fresh spinach in with the chicken to wilt, and put dinner on the table.
Laura received a small plate of the chicken, spinach and pasta that Nate and I were eating, which she promptly dumped all over her tray. But that's fine - she was actually mildly interested in the food in front of her. Nate and I sat on either side of her, with actual plates of dinner and napkins and silverware! And no TV! And we were talking like married people sometimes do! It already felt better.
And then, a miracle. I airplaned a small piece of spinach on my fork into Laura's mouth. She started to spit the food out, but I kept the fork against her lips. She thought for a second, re-tasted the spinach, and then shoved it in her mouth and signed for more. My daughter wanted more! Spinach of all things! I was happy to oblige. In the end, Laura ate two bites of pasta, four or five bites of chicken, and at least ten bites of spinach. This was a major accomplishment. My daughter ate a dinner that consisted of more than grapes, freeze-dried strawberries, and banana puffs.
I think family dinner really might work.
Stouffer's Might Be Onto Something
I am sure you have heard the Stouffer's ad campaign, Let's Fix Dinner. The premise is that families who eat together at least once a week have healthier, happier children. I grew up in a family where we ate dinner together, at the table, every night. My mom made all our food, my siblings and I set the table, and my dad walked into the house after a long day in a suit and tie just as dinner was ready. We sat at the table and talked about our days. We would often stay at the table long after we had finished eating; our conversation had been that enjoyable.
That's not to say that we never had arguments or hurt feelings or tears at the table. We didn't always like what my mom made us for dinner. We weren't always all together, especially as each of us kids grew a little older and a little more busy in the evenings after school. But we are a fairly happy and healthy family. I always knew I could count on my parents to listen to me and to care about my day. Based on my happy childhood, it should seem fairly obvious to me that family dinner is a good thing. And yet, I have had a really hard time trying to figure out how to feed Laura, Nate and myself on a nightly basis.
Laura and I get home from work and school around 6. Laura is hungry and noisy, so I try to feed her a dinner in which she has absolutely no interest. The dog is delighted to receive, albeit secondhand, a second dinner of bite-sized whatever. I get frustrated and banish baby and dog to the gated family room, and try to make a grown-up dinner to be eaten in the family room with the noisy baby and dog while watching TV. Laura runs amok through the room, a veritable tornado of evening playtime, grabbing a bite of this or that off our plates as she zooms by. Most of what she grabs winds up in the dog's mouth. Laura hardly eats a thing (after barely eating anything at school), and goes to bed hungry. I know she's hungry, because she wakes up crying around 2am.
This is hardly a happy, healthy way to feed my family. I have been so frustrated with Laura's eating habits, and am determined to make a change. I think Stouffer's is onto something: eating at the table as a family is a really good thing. This evening, I made the change.
I stuck Laura in her high chair as soon as we got home with her favorite snack - some cut up grapes. That kept her quiet until I finished prepping dinner. I let Laura play in the kitchen at my feet as I unpacked her school bag and let dinner simmer on the stove. Nate came down for dinner around 7:30, just as everything was finishing up. I quickly threw some fresh spinach in with the chicken to wilt, and put dinner on the table.
Laura received a small plate of the chicken, spinach and pasta that Nate and I were eating, which she promptly dumped all over her tray. But that's fine - she was actually mildly interested in the food in front of her. Nate and I sat on either side of her, with actual plates of dinner and napkins and silverware! And no TV! And we were talking like married people sometimes do! It already felt better.
And then, a miracle. I airplaned a small piece of spinach on my fork into Laura's mouth. She started to spit the food out, but I kept the fork against her lips. She thought for a second, re-tasted the spinach, and then shoved it in her mouth and signed for more. My daughter wanted more! Spinach of all things! I was happy to oblige. In the end, Laura ate two bites of pasta, four or five bites of chicken, and at least ten bites of spinach. This was a major accomplishment. My daughter ate a dinner that consisted of more than grapes, freeze-dried strawberries, and banana puffs.
I think family dinner really might work.
That's not to say that we never had arguments or hurt feelings or tears at the table. We didn't always like what my mom made us for dinner. We weren't always all together, especially as each of us kids grew a little older and a little more busy in the evenings after school. But we are a fairly happy and healthy family. I always knew I could count on my parents to listen to me and to care about my day. Based on my happy childhood, it should seem fairly obvious to me that family dinner is a good thing. And yet, I have had a really hard time trying to figure out how to feed Laura, Nate and myself on a nightly basis.
Laura and I get home from work and school around 6. Laura is hungry and noisy, so I try to feed her a dinner in which she has absolutely no interest. The dog is delighted to receive, albeit secondhand, a second dinner of bite-sized whatever. I get frustrated and banish baby and dog to the gated family room, and try to make a grown-up dinner to be eaten in the family room with the noisy baby and dog while watching TV. Laura runs amok through the room, a veritable tornado of evening playtime, grabbing a bite of this or that off our plates as she zooms by. Most of what she grabs winds up in the dog's mouth. Laura hardly eats a thing (after barely eating anything at school), and goes to bed hungry. I know she's hungry, because she wakes up crying around 2am.
This is hardly a happy, healthy way to feed my family. I have been so frustrated with Laura's eating habits, and am determined to make a change. I think Stouffer's is onto something: eating at the table as a family is a really good thing. This evening, I made the change.
I stuck Laura in her high chair as soon as we got home with her favorite snack - some cut up grapes. That kept her quiet until I finished prepping dinner. I let Laura play in the kitchen at my feet as I unpacked her school bag and let dinner simmer on the stove. Nate came down for dinner around 7:30, just as everything was finishing up. I quickly threw some fresh spinach in with the chicken to wilt, and put dinner on the table.
Laura received a small plate of the chicken, spinach and pasta that Nate and I were eating, which she promptly dumped all over her tray. But that's fine - she was actually mildly interested in the food in front of her. Nate and I sat on either side of her, with actual plates of dinner and napkins and silverware! And no TV! And we were talking like married people sometimes do! It already felt better.
And then, a miracle. I airplaned a small piece of spinach on my fork into Laura's mouth. She started to spit the food out, but I kept the fork against her lips. She thought for a second, re-tasted the spinach, and then shoved it in her mouth and signed for more. My daughter wanted more! Spinach of all things! I was happy to oblige. In the end, Laura ate two bites of pasta, four or five bites of chicken, and at least ten bites of spinach. This was a major accomplishment. My daughter ate a dinner that consisted of more than grapes, freeze-dried strawberries, and banana puffs.
I think family dinner really might work.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Beauty
"They made me see that the world was beautiful if you were beautiful, and that you couldn't get unless you gave. And you had to give without wanting to get."
The Once and Future King by T.H. White
I read these words this morning, and was touched by their beautiful simplicity. Isn't it true that when we are good and kind, the world seems a more beautiful place? Not neccessarily happier, or better - just more beautiful for all its flaws. And isn't it far sweeter to receive something for which we have worked and sacrificed?
Nate, Laura and I actually went to Church this morning. We are not frequent Church-goers, though we are trying to be better. It is the first Sunday of Lent, and the priest's sermon was about The Temptation of Adam and Eve in the Garden. I was surprised to hear the elderly man, supported at the pulpit by a walker, speak of the goodness that came of the fall. Ok, sure. Adam and Eve brought sin into our world. But it also allowed Adam and Eve to truly see the goodness all around them for the first time. He said, "We are only completely free from temptation and sin for about 500 seconds before we die."
So yes. There is evil in this world. But there is also goodness and beauty. I'd like to see more of the beauty - in myself and in the world around me.
Beauty
"They made me see that the world was beautiful if you were beautiful, and that you couldn't get unless you gave. And you had to give without wanting to get."
The Once and Future King by T.H. White
I read these words this morning, and was touched by their beautiful simplicity. Isn't it true that when we are good and kind, the world seems a more beautiful place? Not neccessarily happier, or better - just more beautiful for all its flaws. And isn't it far sweeter to receive something for which we have worked and sacrificed?
Nate, Laura and I actually went to Church this morning. We are not frequent Church-goers, though we are trying to be better. It is the first Sunday of Lent, and the priest's sermon was about The Temptation of Adam and Eve in the Garden. I was surprised to hear the elderly man, supported at the pulpit by a walker, speak of the goodness that came of the fall. Ok, sure. Adam and Eve brought sin into our world. But it also allowed Adam and Eve to truly see the goodness all around them for the first time. He said, "We are only completely free from temptation and sin for about 500 seconds before we die."
So yes. There is evil in this world. But there is also goodness and beauty. I'd like to see more of the beauty - in myself and in the world around me.
Friday, March 11, 2011
I need your opinions!
I got friended on FB by two of Laura's daycare teachers.
I don't know what to do! Do I friend them? The young women who care for my daughter week in and week out? Do I expose them to a more intimate view of Laura's life? Do I expose myself to a more intimate view of their lives? Do I want to know what they do on the weekends when they are not wiping snot and changing diapers?
Or is it a good thing for me to be more friendly with Laura's teachers? Are they friending some of the other moms in the class? Is this a way for me to reach out to actual human beings, and perhaps become more involved?
PLEASE weigh in! I am seriously unsure whether to click "Accept" or "Ignore." I need your advice!
I don't know what to do! Do I friend them? The young women who care for my daughter week in and week out? Do I expose them to a more intimate view of Laura's life? Do I expose myself to a more intimate view of their lives? Do I want to know what they do on the weekends when they are not wiping snot and changing diapers?
Or is it a good thing for me to be more friendly with Laura's teachers? Are they friending some of the other moms in the class? Is this a way for me to reach out to actual human beings, and perhaps become more involved?
PLEASE weigh in! I am seriously unsure whether to click "Accept" or "Ignore." I need your advice!
I need your opinions!
I got friended on FB by two of Laura's daycare teachers.
I don't know what to do! Do I friend them? The young women who care for my daughter week in and week out? Do I expose them to a more intimate view of Laura's life? Do I expose myself to a more intimate view of their lives? Do I want to know what they do on the weekends when they are not wiping snot and changing diapers?
Or is it a good thing for me to be more friendly with Laura's teachers? Are they friending some of the other moms in the class? Is this a way for me to reach out to actual human beings, and perhaps become more involved?
PLEASE weigh in! I am seriously unsure whether to click "Accept" or "Ignore." I need your advice!
I don't know what to do! Do I friend them? The young women who care for my daughter week in and week out? Do I expose them to a more intimate view of Laura's life? Do I expose myself to a more intimate view of their lives? Do I want to know what they do on the weekends when they are not wiping snot and changing diapers?
Or is it a good thing for me to be more friendly with Laura's teachers? Are they friending some of the other moms in the class? Is this a way for me to reach out to actual human beings, and perhaps become more involved?
PLEASE weigh in! I am seriously unsure whether to click "Accept" or "Ignore." I need your advice!
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Dear Moms
Dear Moms out there,
We are all doing a great job. Keep up the good work!
Love,
Mrs. MidAtlantic
I once had a boss who would email himself periodically to tell him he was doing a good job. It might sound silly, but who doesn't need a little self-affirmation from time to time? We moms are all doing a great job.
Dear Moms
Dear Moms out there,
We are all doing a great job. Keep up the good work!
Love,
Mrs. MidAtlantic
I once had a boss who would email himself periodically to tell him he was doing a good job. It might sound silly, but who doesn't need a little self-affirmation from time to time? We moms are all doing a great job.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Tea Time
I've been getting frustrated a lot lately. Frustrated with co-workers. Frustrated with Hubby. Frustrated with my wardrobe. Frustrated with the dog. Frustrated with the weather (is it warming up, or still winter?!). Frustrated with Laura. Frustrated with myself. I don't like feeling this way, by any means. I just feel so overwhelmed that my only response is to get huffy and frustrated with everyone and everything around me.
So I think maybe I need to take more breaks. I need to stop what I'm doing and take a deep breath. I can't be perfect all the time. I'm never going to look perfect, and I don't need to. I'm never going to be the perfect friend, wife or mother, so I should stop trying to be. I need to stop every now and then, and refocus my life. I need to stop more often. I need to drink more tea.
So I think maybe I need to take more breaks. I need to stop what I'm doing and take a deep breath. I can't be perfect all the time. I'm never going to look perfect, and I don't need to. I'm never going to be the perfect friend, wife or mother, so I should stop trying to be. I need to stop every now and then, and refocus my life. I need to stop more often. I need to drink more tea.
There is no trouble so great or grave that cannot be much diminished by a nice cup of tea.
~Bernard-Paul Heroux
Tea does our fancy aid,
Repress those vapours which the head invade
And keeps that palace of the soul serene.
~Edmund Waller, "Of Tea"
Quotes Courtesy QuoteGarden
Tea Time
I've been getting frustrated a lot lately. Frustrated with co-workers. Frustrated with Hubby. Frustrated with my wardrobe. Frustrated with the dog. Frustrated with the weather (is it warming up, or still winter?!). Frustrated with Laura. Frustrated with myself. I don't like feeling this way, by any means. I just feel so overwhelmed that my only response is to get huffy and frustrated with everyone and everything around me.
So I think maybe I need to take more breaks. I need to stop what I'm doing and take a deep breath. I can't be perfect all the time. I'm never going to look perfect, and I don't need to. I'm never going to be the perfect friend, wife or mother, so I should stop trying to be. I need to stop every now and then, and refocus my life. I need to stop more often. I need to drink more tea.
So I think maybe I need to take more breaks. I need to stop what I'm doing and take a deep breath. I can't be perfect all the time. I'm never going to look perfect, and I don't need to. I'm never going to be the perfect friend, wife or mother, so I should stop trying to be. I need to stop every now and then, and refocus my life. I need to stop more often. I need to drink more tea.
There is no trouble so great or grave that cannot be much diminished by a nice cup of tea.
~Bernard-Paul Heroux
Tea does our fancy aid,
Repress those vapours which the head invade
And keeps that palace of the soul serene.
~Edmund Waller, "Of Tea"
Quotes Courtesy QuoteGarden
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Someone Was Hungry
I often say that Laura is so cute I could just eat her up. Look at her! What a tasty little morsel she would be! And like so many toddlers, she has this little sweet spot right at the back of her neck - SO kissable!
 |
| So cute, I could eat her up! |
 |
| Oh no! Her poor nose! |
Someone Was Hungry
I often say that Laura is so cute I could just eat her up. Look at her! What a tasty little morsel she would be! And like so many toddlers, she has this little sweet spot right at the back of her neck - SO kissable!
|
| So cute, I could eat her up! |
|
| Oh no! Her poor nose! |
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
My Kid is Normal!
For a while, I was afraid she wasn't. She refuses to eat pasta. Mac and cheese is poison to her. Potatoes? Yuck! Don't even begin to suggest carrots or sweet potatoes. How could Laura be my child?! My nickname growing up was "Potato." I ate so many carrots at one point, I turned orange. It seems so completely foreign to me to watch Laura spit out my favorite foods without a sideways glance.
But tonight, I discovered that Laura is still normal. She loves Spaghetti O's.
Just like any other normal kid out there, Laura got the pasta all over her face and arms.
And I didn't even mind cleaning it up!
My Kid is Normal!
For a while, I was afraid she wasn't. She refuses to eat pasta. Mac and cheese is poison to her. Potatoes? Yuck! Don't even begin to suggest carrots or sweet potatoes. How could Laura be my child?! My nickname growing up was "Potato." I ate so many carrots at one point, I turned orange. It seems so completely foreign to me to watch Laura spit out my favorite foods without a sideways glance.
But tonight, I discovered that Laura is still normal. She loves Spaghetti O's.
Just like any other normal kid out there, Laura got the pasta all over her face and arms.
And I didn't even mind cleaning it up!
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