Tag: Parenthood

Friday

~ Lenore Diane ~ 1 Comment

.:: Dust Mites
You may recall, my husband and I spent the weekend in the mountains. And, we enjoyed watching Dish Network’s Earth channel. Though many may find such a channel boring, my husband and I found it intriguing and amazing. I also found looking ‘down’ on planet earth both humbling and startling.

At night, while in the mountains, my husband and I sat on the deck for hours, staring at the countless stars. In the morning, we were literally awakened to the sunrise, watching it take place through the sliding glass doors in the bedroom. And, during the day we spent our time reading, writing and watching ‘planet earth’.

Life is good. Life is great. Life is happening all over this world, as I live it and see the earth upon which I live. I wonder what would happen if every public place had a streaming video of our earth. What would happen if everyone could see a live shot of earth from space at all times? Would we be moved to better protect our environment? Or, would we become quickly desensitized by the constant reminder of our Big Blue Marble?

As I watched the shot of earth from space, I could not help but think that we are the dust mites of the earth. From a distance, we are microscopic organisms feasting off its host. And, when we think of dust mites infesting our beds and linens, we shudder. Yet, viewing the earth from space, I can’t help but think we are the very things that make us shudder. Unfortunately, dust mites are – for the most part – harmless. Humans feeding off planet earth? Not so harmless.

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Beautiful from space,
Beauty covers the planet.
Handle it with care.

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.:: Lose a Tooth get a Prize
Earlier this week, as I mentioned in a previous post, Joe lost his first tooth. Though the tooth was loose for weeks, the ‘fall out’ seemed to happen suddenly and unexpectedly. And, because we don’t do the Easter Bunny or Santa (in the traditional sense), I had no clue how we’d handle the Tooth Fairy.

I told Rob I could go to the store to get something, but we decided we’d just give Joe a quarter and call it a ‘visit’.  That said, I looked in my wallet to see if I had any quarters. I didn’t. And, I knew I wouldn’t; we rarely carry cash. So, while the boys were getting a bath, I went into Charlie’s room and took a quarter out of their piggy bank. Rob walked in the room as I was taking the quarter. “Nice.” He said, smiling. “Stealing from the kids in the name of the Tooth Fairy.”

After their bath, Joe informed us that he was hoping he was going to get an ice cream sandwich or a lollipop from the Tooth Fairy. I told him I doubted that would happen. And, I reminded him that the ice cream sandwich would melt. Though, perhaps he was thinking he’d wake up in the middle of the night and eat it. Who knows.

When Joe was in bed, I crafted a little note to include in the pouch with the quarter. I had a feeling Joe was going to be disappointed, but I was hoping the simple ‘thought’ of a Tooth Fairy coming in the night would be enough to please him. Yeah. Not so much. He didn’t see the quarter initially, just the note; and, he was disappointed. I told him there was a quarter in the pouch, too, but he told me he didn’t want it. Ironic, because it was his quarter to begin with. I wonder if this means I can keep it?!

Knowing he was bummed, I agreed to buy him a lollipop. We don’t do lollipops in our house, so he was excited to hear he was going to get one. He became even more excited when he found out he was going to get two lollipops. Because, like all good Moms, I bribed him with a lollipop to get him to agree to getting his picture taken. Joe smiled and said, “You’re better than the Tooth Fairy.”

.||.

Why, he asks. Does she want my tooth?
Searching for answers is this little sleuth.

Why under the pillow? Why on my bed?
How can she get it? Will she lift my head?

The ways of the the fairy, the elf and the bunny.
He shakes his head, finding it all kind of funny.

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.:: A New Job
This week I started a 2nd job – a paid gig. I am helping friends handle the ‘night shift’ of parenthood. They recently celebrated the birth of their second child. And, wishing they had a ‘night shift’ helper with their first child, they put a plan in action to have help with the second. So, two nights a week from 11PM until 7AM, I do what I can to let Mom and Dad sleep (though Mom does wake up once to nurse the newborn).

It’s kind of nice taking care of a newborn again. I feel like a grandparent – able to enjoy the little baby, while handing the cutie off to her parents at the end of the day. Um. Wait, I hand off the baby at the beginning of the day.

Yes, just two nights into my job, and I’ve already lost track of the days. When I came home Thursday morning, it took me all day to realize the day was Thursday not Wednesday. And, perhaps because I am in my 40s, I find recovering from an all-nighter takes more than one night to recover. As the sun sets on this Friday, I feel my energy starting to return. Yes, just like a newborn, I may be getting my days and nights mixed up. Sure hope I don’t wake Rob up tonight by crying out for a bottle. That would be awkward.

.||.

The memories of my babies as newborns are foggy.
Perhaps because much of it was spent feeling groggy.

A full night of sleep did not exist in those days.
So often we walked in a sleep-deprived haze.

And when sleep is something that you lack.
The days of the week become harder to track.

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.:: And Now for Something Completely Random (Because it is Flighty Friday)
Top 7 Most Annoying Words/Phrases Currently Coming from the Mouth of My 5yr Old
7. “Oh, Baby.”
6. “Mr. Baby Underpants.”
5. “What did you say, Baby?”
4. “Mr. Baby Underpants”
3.  “Here we go, Baby!”
2. “Ok, Baby.”
1.  “Mr. Baby Underpants.”

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Thanks for Reading. Be good yourself, and help take care of others.

To Be or Not To Be

~ Lenore Diane ~ Leave a comment

She felt sick. Her stomach was in knots and her head was pounding. Yes, she knew she was overwhelmed with the number of tasks she had to tackle this week. And, she knew she had a tendency to stress herself out over nothing. But this? This was different. This was real; or, so she thought. Her gut thought so, too.

She made it through the day, with the ‘something’ continuing to hoover in her mind. After putting the boys to bed, she sat with him and tried to lose herself in television. It wasn’t working. She rested her head on him, wondering if she should say something. As he put his arm around her, she closed her eyes and decided to keep quiet. At least for the night.

She heard his alarm beeping. It was the secondary alarm. The two had overslept their own alarm. She fumbled to check the time. Oversleeping was not a common occurrence for her. She wanted to stay in bed. Her gut wanted her to stay in bed. But, she had to get the boys up and ready for school. Focus. She told herself. Focus.

Today was picture day at her oldest son’s school. When the teacher greeted him at the door, she asked “Are you ready to have your picture taken?” He nodded and replied, “I brought my best smile.”

As she drove away, she was smiling. She had such good kids. She knew she’d be OK. Maybe she was just overwhelmed with the tasks at hand. She decided to spend the entire day focusing on completing as many tasks as possible. With the deadline just two days away, there was little time left to lolly-gag and procrastinate. She shook her head, while visualizing an Etch-a-Sketch. If only it were as easy to clear the mind with a simple shake, as it is when one shakes an Etch-a-Sketch to clear the screen.

When she got home, she jumped into the first project. After about an hour, she couldn’t take it anymore. She decided to call her neighbor. Her hands were shaking as she dialed the number. Holding her breath, she waited for her neighbor to answer the phone. “Hi. We’re not home right now…” She hung up, and threw herself back into the tasks.

The phone rang. “How are you?” Her neighbor asked. She was glad her neighbor checked caller ID. In fact, she had counted on it. “Well,” she said. “Don’t freak out, OK?”

“What do you mean?” Her neighbor asked curiously. “What happened?”

“Do you have any pregnancy tests?” She blurted.

“Ha ha! Are you kidding me?!” Her neighbor asked, while laughing.

“Wait. Am I kidding on which part?” She responded.

She waited as her neighbor walked to the bathroom to rummage through the drawers. She told her neighbor how she had a feeling. Though she wasn’t officially ‘late’, she didn’t feel like mother nature would be calling any time soon.

“No, I don’t have any left over tests. I’m sorry.”

She sighed. “That’s OK. I may pick one up when I pick up my oldest from school.”

“I’ll go get you one. You just say the word.”

She had such a great neighbor.

After hanging up the phone, she felt a bit better. Just saying the word pregnancy out loud took some of the anxiety away. At the age of 41, a pregnancy was not something she was trying to make happen. In fact, when the moments arrive, steps are taken to prevent pregnancy. There is always a chance one might slip through the gates, though.

It was time to pick up her oldest from school. Her day had gotten better, having said the word and actually having tackled some of the tasks. However, the uncertainty remained, as did many tasks. And, when her oldest got in the car, she got cold feet and decided not to make a run to the store. ‘Maybe‘, she thought. ‘Maybe, I’ll pick one up after I pick up my youngest.‘

5:00 came around quickly. She loaded up her oldest, and headed out to pick up her youngest. Driving back home, she asked the boys if they wanted to run an errand with her. She smiled inside, knowing good and well, she didn’t usually ask permission to run errands. Anxiety reigned, and her boys said no.

“Well, I am going to drop you off at our neighbor’s house, because I have to run an errand.”

“What are you going to get?” One of the boys asked.

She hemmed. She hawed. “I’m going to get a test.”

“What kind of test?”

She hemmed again. She hawed again. “I’m going to get a pregnancy test.”

“What’s a pregnancy test?”

“It’s a test women take to find out if they are going to have a baby.”

“When can I have a baby in my tummy?”

“You can’t have a baby in your tummy.” My oldest said. “You’re not a girl.”

“Mommy. Why can’t I have a baby?”

“Because you don’t have a vagina or uterus, and you don’t have any ovaries.” She said. She figured she might as well just let it all out.

“What’s a vagina or uterus?”

“It’s the stuff that helps make babies.” She said.

“Yeah. It’s like a machine.” Her oldest said.

She pulled into her neighbor’s driveway. Her neighbor greeted her with a grin. She told her neighbor she’d be back soon. And, she headed for the store. Once in the store, she raced to the pharmacy section, assuming she’d find the tests. No dice. No tests, either. She went down the cosmetic aisle. No dice. No tests. She went down the baby aisle. Dice and tests! She grabbed a two’fer, just in case.

As she headed for the check-out, she turned suddenly and darted for the ice cream aisle. A smile came across her face. She might as well enjoy herself, regardless of the news.

“So. What do you have planned for tonight?” The friendly checkout clerk asked.

“What? Why are you asking me that? I am buying a pregnancy test and ice cream. What do you think I have planned? I am stressed, Mister. The list of tasks remains long, and now I may find out I am pregnant. Do you know how old I am? I am 41 yrs old. I know better. Yet, some little guy may have slipped through the cracks and made a baby. A baby. I wear socks with sandals, do I look like someone who is actively trying to get pregnant?! Do I?! What do you mean what do I have planned for tonight? I sure as heck did not plan for this!” She thought.

She smiled at the clerk and said “Oh, nothing.”

Back at her neighbor’s house, her neighbor asked, “Did you take it yet?”

“No.” She said. “I’ll wait until the boys are eating dinner.”

“Well, you had better call me, or I will hunt you down.”

The moment of truth arrived. She locked herself in the bathroom, while the boys enjoyed their PB&Js and Curious George. She sat. She pee’d. She waited.

She glanced at the stick, wondering if she’d see one line or two. She slowly unlocked the door, and walked to the kitchen. She stood silent for a moment. Then she opened the fridge and popped the top off a bottle of Guinness beer. She raised the bottle to the one line, her two boys, her loving husband and her two dogs. This was her family. She was happy. And, she was not pregnant.

‘Oh, crap.’ She thought, as she remembered she still had a ton of tasks to tackle.

.::|::.

Itching With Inspiration

~ Lenore Diane ~ 4 Comments

I am itching with inspiration. Itching. And the inspiration comes from an actual itch and Facebook. The itch can be scratched. Facebook? It will be the death of me, if I don’t learn to keep quiet.

I find myself funny; unfortunately, I don’t keep the ‘funny’ to myself. (I don’t keep anything to myself.) Moreover, as I share what I find funny, I soon realize the rest of the world does not see things the way I see things. Amazing. Really, it’s a shame. Poor, poor world. I have a friend that says ‘you might as well laugh as cry’, and I try to remember that sentiment when things get crazy.

Yesterday, I posted what I thought was a funny poem on my Facebook status. “Too much info I sometimes share; here’s an example in case you care, My kid Joe does not have rabies. Nah. Instead this kid has scabies.” Well, the humor in my poem went over like a lead balloon. *THUD* (Actually, my neighbor found it funny, as she literally called me on the phone seconds after I posted the status.)

Other Facebook friends? Not so much. One FB friend, who has a child in my son’s daycare class, proceeded to contact the daycare provider. She was not amused with my mentioning my child and scabies in the same poem. [I admit, ‘scabies’ sounds horrible.] She wanted to request my child not be allowed back into daycare until the scabies was cured. Ok. Fine. I understand her concern. I understand her wanting to protect her child, as well as the other children in the class. But – Charlie was not the one with a rash. In fact, Charlie is rash free.

Again, I understand the Mom’s concern. As a Mom, I experience the same concerns, and I certainly don’t want to expose other little ones to my sick little ones. However, as a Mom of two, my knee-jerk response to illnesses has lessened. Greatly.

When my oldest was a newborn and throughout his first three years, I freaked whenever he was sick and/or was thought to have been exposed to someone else who was sick. I freaked to the point of becoming a freak. (Rumor has it I am still a freak, but for other reasons.) Then, when I had my second child, I found I freaked less. I found juggling childcare and my paid gig was tough, especially when a child was sick and had to stay home. Hmm . . . maybe the kid isn’t sick. Maybe he just has allergies. No fever. He’s fine. Off to daycare you go.

Yes,  juggling work and two kids eased my freaky “Oh my gosh! My kid is sick! Quick! We must go to the Urgent Care Center STAT!” nature. Juggling parenthood and employment eased my freaky “What do you mean he was exposed to chickenpox? What kind of Mom takes their child out in public when they have chickenpox? Argh!” nature. Just like being a Mom of two eased my “He fell! Is he breathing? Is there blood? Do we have to go to the ER?” knee-jerk reaction. Now, if one of my two falls the reaction is more like, “I can’t see any blood from here. Shake it off. Rub it. Move along.”

I admit, my neighbor and I still call each other (immediately) when we fear one of our little ones is battling a scary illnesses or has just experienced a serious bonk of some sort. She and I will talk each other off the ‘freaking out’ ledge.

Back to the rash. I’ve discussed Charlie’s lack of rash, which brings me to Joe. Joe doesn’t have scabies. However, the pediatrician thought it best he (and Charlie) be treated for scabies because our neighbor’s kids had scabies. The rash on Joe’s arm is actually dermatitis, and we are treating it with a steroid cream. Still, last night, we did the scabies treatment, too, which consists of lathering the child in a special cream before bed and washing the cream off in the morning. Treatment also includes washing sheets, towels, etc. Done, done and done. Joe is enjoying a normal day at school, and Charlie is enjoying a not-so-normal day at home.

And Scabies? Yeah, it’s a scary name for a mite that is similar to lice. Scabies mites typically thrive on the body below the neck, whereas lice thrive on the scalp. Scabies is far easier to treat than lice; plus, unless you are sharing a bed or rolling around naked with someone suffering Scabies, Scabies is harder to transmit than lice. You can access the MayoClinc’s website for information about Scabies by clicking here.

I’ll work harder on keeping things to myself, while holding my humor in check. Still, tonight I may have to create a new poem for my FB status; many words rhyme with ‘flu’.