Granola Bar Up The Nose: Day 2

Yesterday, Daniel accidentally got a chunk of granola bar stuck up his nose. If you missed that post you can click HERE to get the full story. 

 

Today, after several phone calls with the doctor's office, we headed to the ENT. The specialist checked him out and saw no sign of any left over granola up there. She said we can continue with a saline spray to ensure that all tiny pieces are out but as far as she could tell it was gone. So there you have it, Daniel's nose is officially granola bar free.

Pediatrician's office co-pay: $20

Saline nasal spray: $4.25

ENT office co-pay: $30

A story that will last a lifetime: Priceless

 

All that's missing in this picture is some granola

The Rush

The Rush. The morning rush. The can't be late for soccer rush. The can't be late for piano rush. The can't get the kids ready for bed fast enough rush. All of it - it's doing a number on me lately. The main reason it's bothering me is because I can't seem to fix it. I'm Type A. I like structure and organization and to solve problems. After almost seven years as a mom, I'm starting to feel pretty defeated. I think The Rush is winning.

It doesn't matter what I do to be prepared for it, something unexpected comes up that throws it for a loop. Last night for soccer was THE NIGHT that we were going to arrive on time, skipping, and holding hands as a family with smiles and there was going to be no yelling and no rushing. I had planned it that way. I prepared for it. It was happening - until it didn't. There was an unexpected nap and an unexpected potty accident that went over the allotted "emergency" time I had factored in. I was frazzled and annoyed but we were still close to at least making it on time. That was until I realized on the drive there that, amongst the chaos of the departure, I had forgot my purse at home and we had to turn around and go back. It made me so mad.

It's always something. The mornings are the worst. I don't get how so many small things can go wrong each morning that "ruin" the whole thing. The boys are up hours ahead of time and we're still rushing. I pick out outfits the night before. I make sure lunches and backpacks are ready. Shoes are put away on the mat each night before bed (one of Isabelle's chores) and ready for the morning. I feel like we do so much to make sure the mornings are smooth and I don't need to get frustrated or yell but more often than not it's exactly what I do. I don't want the big kids last memory of me each morning to be yelling to get to the bus stop but alas, alas, it generally is. The part that really frustrates me is that I try so hard not to make that the case. Why can't I control it more? GDammit, why can't it run smoothly? Really, I know that I just need to accept that I can't fix it and go with the flow. People say the world won't end if we're a little late for things but I'm not sure I believe that. It's just not who I am. I am controlling and neurotic and might just end up in the looney bin over all of this. I sure hope they serve peanut butter cups there.

You're (almost) late

Failed Hearing Tests: Say What?

In May, Henry failed the hearing test at his Kindergarten screening. The test itself was actually quite comical. The school nurse and I were in the room with him and he wasn't raising his hands for the beeps even though the nurse and I could hear them through the headphones. It turns out that she had told him to raise his hands for "beeps" and he didn't think they sounded like beeps so he didn't raise his hand. Once we got it all cleared up with him that he shoud raise his hand for ANY noise he hears in the headphones we thought we would be all set but no dice. He failed in his left ear. So we headed off to his primary care doctor where he also failed for the left ear. The doctor said that he did have some fluid in his left ear which could be causing the problem so we should retest in a few weeks. So a couple weeks later the crew and I headed back to the doctor for a retest. It's always such a joy to bring three kids to the doctor. At that test he passed his left ear but failed his right. The doctor can't give a child a passing score until they pass both ears in the same test so we left with another fail. We were back at it a couple of weeks later for another test where once again he failed the right. So for those keeping track, that's two fails in the left ear and two fails in the right ear.

At that point his primary care doctor decided it would be best to send him off to an ENT for evaluation. I was so frustrated - not at the doctor, not at Henry - just at the situation. I really had no doubt that Henry's ears were fine. Failing the test is a total Henry thing to do. He is a dreamer - a head up in the clouds kind of kid. During one of the tests I heard him say to the nurse, "Oops, I keep forgetting to raise my hand!" That was on the third test when I was wrangling an unruly Daniel in the hallway and wouldn't have minded ripping my own ears off at that point.

But alas, alas, Henry and I headed off to see the ENT yesterday to have an evaluation and a full hearing test with an audiologist. Not surprisingly, you put that boy in a sound proof room with no distractions and high tech testing devices and he can hear everything. He heard every single noise and easily passed every part of the test. So there you have it - FIVE hearing tests later he got a passing score. Watch out Kindergarten - Henry's coming for you!

Note: When you finally pass, your mom will get you anything you want for lunch

The Truth Behind Bedtime Stories

As everyone knows you're supposed to read to your children. It sounds so easy. It sounds like it will be such a nice bonding experience. It sounds like it will be a relaxing thing to do before bed. 

I'm here to tell you that it's not - well not in our house anyway. If we want to get in some quality reading time it's definitely better to do it long before bedtime and preferably with just one child at a time. 

This is how reading at bedtime to three children goes at our house:

1.      Someone is always asking questions (What's that? Why did they do that? What does this say?)

2.      Someone is always invading personal space (That's where I'm sitting! I want my foot there!)

3.      Someone is always trying to turn the page too early (Stop it!!)

4.      No one can ever see (Look out! But I can't seeeeeeeee!)

5.      Someone is always fighting (See numbers 1 through 4 above)

6.      Someone is always crying (See numbers 1 through 5 above)

7.      Someone always wants to send the kids to the orphanage (Oh, that's me.)

 

Please tell me this is happening in other houses besides just my own. Oh, and if this rings home for you, make sure you read my post Top Five Reasons I Hate the Library!
 

My Daughter: A Mini-Me and a Best Friend

“You’re her best friend.” It’s something my husband said to me once about our five year old daughter. Although I’m sure he doesn’t even remember saying it, it’s really stuck with me. I was complaining one night about Isabelle. It wasn’t complaints of her being naughty but rather of just never having a moment of silence with her. She loves to be with me. She wants to do what I’m doing. She wants to help. She wants to tell me every single thing that has happened since the last moment I saw her. Hell, she wants to tell me every single thing that happened during moments I was there. She is a talker. She is a do-er. She is in an analyzer. She is me. She is me in a beautiful, miniature form. Now let me tell you, spending the whole day with myself can be exhausting. Never mind, having two of me to tend to. Sometimes I just want to hit the mute button on my brain and on her mouth.

I want to sneak away to Target by myself on a weekend and leave her home. I want to have a trip without incident, without endlessly talking about if we got everything on the list, what we are doing next, or what the boys are doing at home. I just want alone time. I often (somewhat begrudgingly) take her with me because I know she loves trips to the store as much as I do. Without fail, she will look at me at one point and say how she is enjoying our special “girls only” trip. For all the times I think of how I just want to be alone, I try to remember that she just wants to spend some one on one time with me. After all, I am her best friend.

Each night when she goes to bed she draws in a journal. Every few weeks or so she’ll bring it down in the morning to show me her hard work. Without fail, every few pages amongst the pictures of butterflies there is a picture of me and her with a heart around us. Without fail, there are pages covered with the words, “I love Mamma.” When she is upstairs in her bed, waiting for sleep, she is thinking about me and how much she loves me. This is what I remind myself of when I can’t get a minute to myself or a moment of silence. I am her best friend and someday in the not so distance future I will long for these days back again. 

Why I Love (and Hate) Pandora

On the rare occasion that I have some time alone where I can listen to music without anyone else around I love to crank Pandora. I turn on the “Diane” station and wonder why I don’t listen to it more often. It plays me songs that I love – songs that I had forgotten about. It plays me songs that bring back great memories. It occasionally throws a new song in the mix and you know what? I end up loving it. It’s because Pandora knows me. We’re friends. We’re maybe even BFFs.

Then some days I turn on the “Kid” station and Pandora quickly becomes my enemy. Now let’s keep in mind that I turn the music on for the kids so that they leave me alone. I envision them playing with their toys while happily listening to some tunes. This is never the case. Instead I hear, “We don’t know this song,” “This is a Mamma song (Note: It’s not),” “This is a Dadda song (Note: It’s not),” “We don’t like this song.” The thing is Pandora doesn’t understand the completely irrational minds of my children. It doesn’t understand that they want to hear the same ten songs on repeat all day long. It doesn’t understand that they will gladly listen to any Disney princess song but if you play Mary Poppins or Hercules they will scream. It doesn’t understand that they want to hear Hakuna Matata but if you play the Broadway version of it a revolution occurs. It doesn’t understand that they do not want ANY variety at all. So every time I make the mistake of putting on Pandora for them I spend the majority of my time yelling at the computer/TV (and the children) while frantically pushing the thumbs down button.  

Oh, Pandora I couldn’t love (or hate) you any more than I do.

Terrible 4s?!

Isabelle is our oldest and has always been great. She was an easy baby, an ahead of the game toddler, a smart preschooler, and the list goes on and on. We’ve been lucky – until now. For the last few weeks, something has happened. She has turned into a little devil. She does not listen. I repeat, she does not listen. She argues with me over the tiniest things. She knows things are wrong and she does them anyway. I tell her to stop doing something and she turns and looks me in the eye to defiantly say “No, I will not stop.” She fights with her brothers over everything and freely hits or kicks them to get her way. I constantly hear her say, “Henry, I am NEVER playing with you again.” This is then followed by the sound of Henry crying. As if that isn’t enough she also is throwing elbows and pushing when they walk by for no reason. She is straight up just being mean to them! Luckily, she only chooses to demonstrate this “awesome” behavior at home to her brothers. If she’s going to be a nightmare I’d prefer for her to be a nightmare at home and not while out with friends. But is a nightmare really my only option? Can I get that picture perfect, amazing little girl back? Please, pretty please?

Since the Time Out chair was becoming her new vacation spot, today I decided to up the ante.  While we were out she was being ridiculously defiant so I told her she was not allowed to swing on the swing set for the rest of the day today or tomorrow. Swinging on the new swing set is her favorite thing to do so this hit hard. In hindsight, I should have told her this after she was in the car and not while we were still approaching it since she FLIPPED OUT when I told her. Oh well, two can play this game. Devil Mommy is coming out and I’m going to win even if I have to play dirty. Game on.

Gonna be a swing-less couple of days!

An Easter Egg, Choking, and a lot of Vomit

This morning while doing the dishes, Isabelle yells “Daniel has an Easter Egg in his mouth.” Now with this type of comment, you don’t even get a reaction out of me anymore. Daniel ALWAYS has something in his mouth. It is certainly no reason to turn the water off and go check it out. I casually yell “Take it out of your mouth, Daniel” knowing that he will do no such thing. Then I hear the gagging. He had a half of a plastic egg in his mouth that ended up going farther down his throat than he anticipated and he started to choke on it. The choking then results in him gagging and throwing up. But wait, it gets better…the half an egg gets lodged in his mouth. He can breathe totally fine and the vomit found its way out around the egg so there is really no cause for alarm. Except of course, I can’t get the egg out. Oh, and he is hysterical. I spend the next minute or so fishing around in his mouth (which makes him vomit again) but finally get the egg out. He was shaken up from the experience which did not stop me from saying, “This is why we don’t put things in our mouth!!” Of course, my words fell on deaf ears since a minute later I saw him walking around with a bouncy ball in his mouth. Uggghhhhh!

"Oooh, I can't wait to choke on this egg later."