Attack of the Crib

         Kids get stuck in things. It's a fact of life. Kid's get stuck in chairs, on their backs, between stair rails, or in Ducky's case between the crib slats. She has 8 teeth coming in (I wish I had whiskey in the house, not for her for me!) all at once, and the accompanying diaper rash she gets with it. So she was already having a rough night when she got her leg between the crib slats. I don't mean little stuck I mean wedged in and can't move it at all stuck. I was ready to punch out the crib slat to free her little leg when I finally got Daddy awake and he extricated her. She refused to go back in the crib (I can't blame her the crib tried to eat her leg!) so i had to spend the night holding her to get her to sleep. She now has big ugly bruises above her knee on the inside and outside of her leg as well as little finger print bruises from us grabbing her leg to try to get it out. As scary as this was it's not what had me terrified this week.

         She had shots the next day. (THIS IS NOT A FORUM TO DEBATE VACCINATIONS ANY COMMENTS ABOUT SUCH WILL BE DELETED). This to me was terrifying because I was afraid they wouldn't believe us about how and why she got the bruises. I'm scared of anyone ever trying to take my baby girl away from me (momma bear syndrome in full effect). This is where my knowledge of the law is a bad thing. I know if any medical professional suspects abuse they are required to report it to the proper authorities. I agree with this because sometimes a spiral fracture is the only outward evidence of a child's private hell. I also know sometimes kid's just fall/get stuck/run into things  (that wall jumped right in front of her!) and get bruises and broken bones. But unless you have photos or video of the accident how do you prove the bruises are from grabbing her leg to get it out instead of grabbing her leg in anger? Our pediatrician is awesome and knows we did nothing to harm our baby girl only helped her to escape the evil crib monster.

        Sorry for the short post but mommy is on vacation and has a little bundle of terror to play blocks with. :)

Sarcasm Is Its Own Language

            Sorry I'm late putting the blog up. Pulled muscle in my back (I really can't do laundry without hurting myself anymore), grocery shopping, and a very long but entertaining trip to the local amusement park kept me away from my electronic devices yesterday. But alas here is this weeks terrifying moment in parenting.
         
            I think every parent has the same thought at some point or another regarding their child, "Please don't let me screw them up!" I studied criminal justice and psychology in college so my fear might be a little more focused and specific than others. We all bring our personal backgrounds into how we raise our children and our specific fears and goals for them. Every day since I first found out I was pregnant my two main thoughts have been, "Let her be safe and don't let me screw her up too bad!" I'll come back to this through out the blog, because like I said it's my main fear regarding parenting.

            This week Ducky helped allay the fear that she would some how be too scared/regimented to express herself (while also making me terrified of her teenage years). She has mastered the seldom seen and always formidable nonverbal sarcasm, without any eye rolling! The other day she figured out how to use a pen (and I had thought nothing would ever beat the amount of "click-click click-click" you hear during final exams), this of course led to the lovely scribble art work we all have. After working on her artwork for a few minutes Ducky looked to the wall besides her. I of course advise her (aka yell in a panicked voice) that she can't draw on the walls only on the paper. Her response was to stare at me for a few seconds, take the paper off the box that doubles as a table, put the paper on the wall, and start scribbling on the paper all while maintaining eye contact. I was equal parts relieved that she knew she could sass me, amused at her comedic timing, and amazed that she mastered nonverbal sarcasm.

            It also turns out that this lack of fear in expressing her opinion also extends to strangers (Hooray! it's not just me!). Yesterday we went to our local amusement park for a fun filled day of games, rides, greasy food that's horrible for you, and last but not least the water park. After a leisurely walk through the park (she made my sister's boyfriend carry her half the way), a nutritious lunch (there have to be nutrients somewhere in bacon cheese fries!) and a few recreational games (no I don't feel bad beating a 5 yr old to win my daughter a giant purple unicorn!),  we made our way to the water park. Got everyone changed into their swimsuits and sprayed down with sunscreen (we're very pasty and I'm still trying to find a way to just fill a paint sprayer with spf100 sunscreen). After deciding the waves in the wave pool weren't fun because she had to wear a life vest we made our way to the kiddie pool area.

                    Here my little bundle of terror scared me by running to every water dispensing apparatus they had to play, climbing in and out of the pool yelling her new favorite phrase "I do it!" (be honest that's the one sentence that makes you proud and sad all at once), and attempting to swim like the big kids were. When the life guard blew the whistle I scooped her up telling her we had to get out of the pool, she responded with her new favorite word, "Why?".  I tried to explain that we can't be in the pool without the lifeguard there to keep us safe, she proceeded to look at the lifeguard and order him to stay (I didn't even know she knew the word stay). She finally calmed down when she saw all of her animal friends waiting for her in the stroller but there for a minute I thought she was going to lead a revolt of toddlers and babies that wanted to keep playing in the water.
         
                 So this week she showed me she's not afraid to let me and others know what she's thinking. This seems very small but it means she is not afraid of my reaction and trusts that I will listen and respond to her wants and needs. Hopefully she always believes this.

Fevers, Coughs, and Steroids Oh My!

       This has been the week of medical issues. First there was my fun tumble down the stairs (I'm able to walk without the air cast now btw). Then Tuesday Ducky spiked a random fever. I'm not sure how familiar everyone is with febrile seizures but they're definitely the boogie man in my house. It's pretty much a seizure brought on by fever. I started having them as a teen which is atypical but my father had issues with fevers as well. Ducky has started going from being fever free to suddenly over 102 within minutes, which is when I normally have seizures.

       So at 2am when I wake up to a burning baby my first thought is........where's the stupid thermometer? (Then when I eventually find it I have to get my eyes to work right to read the tiny nonbacklit screen.) Every time I see its over 102f I have the clutch of fear that this is the time she has a seizure. At least now that she's older I'm not having to take her to the ER every time it gets over 101. (If you've never had to hold a baby under 3 months down so they can draw cultures or swabs you're luck). Luckily after a day of snuggling and drinking a ton of fluid and eating an entire can of homestyle chicken noodle soup (something I can't even accomplish) her fever finally broke.

        I think things are going to settle back down (I don't know why considering they never do) when all of a sudden my husband starts coughing nonstop. When we drop our little bundle of terror off with Nana she's coughing too (I swear at one point their coughs matched up perfectly like a duet of misery). She tells us that she had been in the emergency room all night and has bronchitis. I'm hearing her cough come out of my husband and realize crap so does he. After several hours of arguing he finally agrees to go to the ER himself after I get off work where he gets diagnosed with bronchitic as well.

      The entire time I'm waiting for him to go and get checked out the only thought in my head is PLEASE DON"T BE VIRAL! I'm having flashbacks of when Ducky had a really bad upper respiratory  infection and I had to take her in for chest x-rays and breathing treatments. Our hospitals ER has this lovely device in order to take clear images (I think drugs were involved in getting the baby above to not be screaming and biting and everything else in order to get out like Ducky did) of infant's lungs.
Luckily according to the doctors its just weird coincidence that they both got it at the same time so I can stop having nightmares of this spreading through all the babies.


After getting a bunch of antibiotics and steroids (any one else ever benefit from the prednisone cleaning binges, my house is spotless!) into him my husband is breathing normally again. Ducky so far is fever free. My feet are still lovely shades of purple and red but able to work as feet now. We will see how long it lasts this time. And down below is a link about febrile seizures in case anyone wants more information.

http://www.ninds.nih.gov/disorders/febrile_seizures/detail_febrile_seizures.htm


   

My Baby Gate Tried to Kill Me

Every person I know that has a small human running around, and has baby gates up, has more than one bruise from them. You go to step over and you catch your shin on it or you stub your toe. You whack your knee off of it. Even if you can install the ones with the swinging gate you still end up with baby gate war wounds. Yesterday morning though my baby gate tried to kill me!

I was doing what a million working moms always do on a Saturday morning, trying to multitask and cram as many chores into my morning as possible so I don't have to deal with them during the week. Ducky (my little bundle of terror) and I were picking up all the dirty laundry (aka I put it in the laundry basket and she of course yanks it back out). We were coming down the stairs and as I was keeping an eye on her and carrying the laundry basket that gate reached out and grabbed my foot! Or you know with my innate lack of grace I stubbed my toes trying to step over it and executed an impressive fall that involved throwing the laundry basket and managing to catch myself before bashing my head off the toy chest. And as any mother who has hurt themselves while home alone with kids you don't get a second to sit on the floor and catch your breath (or curse like a sailor until whatever you hit stops throbbing) because your wonderful child will use this time to perpetrate unspeakable horrors. I immediately jump up to rescue the Duck and my ankle of course refuses to hold weight for some reason (it couldn't be that it was just twisted and bashed off every flat service by my stairs).

After Daddy gets home to find us, me with my foot iced and elevated and Ducky taking advantage of this by running in literal circles while hiding dirty clothes, I go get my foot X-ray'd. You've never lived til you have emergency room personnel giggle at your harrowing tumbles. Luckily nothing is broken just bruised and sprained. I'm currently stuck in an air cast (i.e. something with lots of velcro for little hands to investigate) and having to elevate and ice my feet. (always sounds AMAZING until hour two when you start losing it)

Now I know what everyone will say, "Why don't you get a swinging gate?" A. I can't install it where I need to because of the way my stairs are made. B. Ducky is way too smart and is figuring out how to open everything including child safety locks on cabinets.  There's also the "Well just take it down" which leads to visions of Ducky trying to execute her somersaults down the stairs.

In the end I pick the path of least terror, which just means I need to keep an eye on the gate from now on!

Intro

I'm been debating on starting a mom blog for a while now, almost 26 months. From the first moment I was told, "Yes you're pregnant we would normally recommend making an appointment in a few weeks you need to be seen ASAP because you're already considered high risk." through the c-section I crashed after, the baby's first fever and all the terrifying moments in between. I kept telling myself there's already blogs out there about these subjects, you know this because you read them! But since I'm currently stuck resting with my feet in the air (sounds like a dream right?) I figure I might as well start now with my tale of misadventure with safety equipment. Welcome to my terrifying journey through parenthood.

Ducky aka My Little Bundle of Terror