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Milestone Monday ’ Category
Wednesday, July 24th, 2013
Okay, I know I’m not talking world peace here. And I know there are plenty of clueless parents and caretakers who commit far more egregious acts. But I have to vent about this one nanny who drives me crazy at Emmett’s gymnastics class.
First of all, it’s a “baby and me” class. Which means you have to be with your kid the whole time. It’s for tiny tots. Em and I have a blast—he runs from the rings to the mats to the trampoline while I dash behind making sure he doesn’t smash his face or break his nose. Or run into another tot and smash their face and break their nose. The first 15 minutes are free play. Then it’s trampoline time.
One by one each child gets on the trampoline while the caretakers/parents and kids sit on the sidelines and clap an ABC song. It’s not even as annoying as it sounds (unlike music class). It ends with a seat drop and a high-five to Coach Sam. If your kid doesn’t want to sit and wait his/her turn, you just take them to play on the other 51 things available. In other words, participation is not required. However, being present is.
The coach is really good about telling kids who invariably jump out of turn to, “sit down and wait or go play somewhere else.” Parents/nannies are generally really good about jumping in and making sure their kid isn’t being disruptive. Except for “Purple Shirt” nanny. That’s what I will call her. Because today I went to take a picture of Emmett on the trampoline and she ended up in my picture. You can’t see it because I cropped it (though I did debate…), but she is standing there on her phone. The girl is to the right of Emmett jumping up and down.
Notice the other kids are sitting down, waiting for “popcorn.” That’s when the coach bounces them up and down together. You have to be sitting for it. But is this girl? Of course not. Is her nanny telling her to? Nope. She’s too busy doing something incredibly important on her phone. Maybe she’s CIA? Though I doubt it.
From the very first time I saw this woman, she wandered aimlessly on the mat, eyes glued to her iPhone while her then 2-year-old charge ran wild. Before I knew which parents/caretakers went with which kid, I wondered if this tot was here by herself. Which I knew wasn’t possible. But literally the little girl would be on one end and the nanny would be at the other (and it’s a real gym, used for gymnasts. It’s big). That was 6 months ago and it’s never changed.
It continues to astound me that this woman has a job taking care of a kid. I cringe to think what she’s like on the playground. It would be pretty easy to abduct a child when your nose is buried in your phone.
On the trampoline the girl repeatedly kept jumping up and down out of turn. Coach Sam had to keep stopping the other kids to say, “Charlie, sit down. Charlie, sit down or go play,” as Purple Shirt did nothing. Nada. Every other adult holds their child so they can’t just randomly jump out of sequence. Not Purple Shirt. She doesn’t even sit with the kid. She just sits there half smiling, eyes half glazed from looking at her phone, and waits for the coach to get up and physically remove the girl. If I didn’t know better I would think she was blind, deaf, and dumb. Luckily, the coach is very patient and gentle about it, but I can tell even he is annoyed.
Here’s the kicker: when Coach Sam told the girl to go play somewhere else, she did. She jumped off and went running. And Purple Shirt? She stayed at the trampoline with her back to the girl. Head down, eyes on the phone. Maybe she is a spy and solving world peace. But something tells me her phone is just much more important than her job. I can’t imagine the parents are aware. If they were, how could they tolerate this?
And remember: this happens Every. Single. Week. It’s sad and annoying all in one.
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Fearless Feisty Mama, Milestone Monday, Mom Situations, Mom Tricks and Tips, The Sitter Chronicles
Monday, July 8th, 2013
If you haven’t already, I urge everyone to take the 3 minutes and 36 seconds to watch this incredible poet, Hollie McNish, deliver her brilliantly and elegantly worded poem, Embarrassed. Her mantra strikes to the heart of our society–that in a day and age where, “this country of billboards [is] covered in tits,” women are still shamed from breastfeeding in public. She is talking about her homeland in the UK, but her words carry the same weight for mothers in America–and possibly everywhere– as well.
This is one of the most powerful statements I’ve ever seen. I’m not alone. According to the Huffington Post, the video has gone viral. It’s also all over the blogosphere. So if you want to be hip to what’s hot, take the time to watch it. Then pass it on.
Pic of breastfeeding via Shutterstock
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baby formula, Billboards, billboards covered in tits, breastfeeding, breastfeeding in bathrooms, Embarrassed, Holly McNish breastfeeding poem, Holly McNish Embarrassed, Holly McNish poet, Nursing in public, Poet, tits | Categories:
Fearless Feisty Mama, Milestone Monday, Mom Situations, Mom Tricks and Tips, Must Read, Newborn Care
Saturday, June 29th, 2013
I tend to do things to the extreme. When I decided on a whim it would be fun to climb a mountain, it couldn’t be some obscure, domestic mountain. It had to be Mt. Kilimanjaro. In Tanzania. With my 64-year old Aunt Nancy.
When I decided to start running more, it couldn’t be without a goal. I had to do marathons. Three of them.
So over the past couple months when I realized I was becoming a forty-something frump, I knew I wouldn’t go downhill half-ass. Rather I would do it with a fully covered ass in the form of granny panties. If I was going down, I was going to do it right. I’m an overachiever even in ruin.
Two weeks ago I professed my love for those granny panties. Even the panty line. Last week I lamented about how I didn’t care about the sad state of my boobs. I had no energy to fix myself. Not caring gives you a huge sense of freedom. I was headed for rock bottom and enjoying it immensely.
Everyone knows though once you hit bottom you either bounce back up or well, die.
Clearly for me, it wasn’t the latter.
I can’t point to anything specific, but suddenly overnight, I went to the other extreme. My mom was manic. Perhaps I got a gene or two…
In the past week I have:
- Bought out Victoria’s secret. Seamless underwear (not thongs, still can’t do those post baby), 6 new bras, one new bikini swimsuit. All with major padding. My boobs look, well, at least like boobs.
- Ordered 2 more swimsuits from LandsEnd. Both tankini’s so if I’m feeling self conscious about my now-outie-bellybutton-thanks-to-the-Y-chromosone-birth-of-my-son-I can cover it.
- Bought 5 new shirts, two pairs of shorts, summer pants and new pajamas. I even bought a belt. It’s been 10 years since that’s happened.
- Dealt with my hooves. ie: got a pedicure with callous remover and a manicure.
- Got into bootcamp. Hard core.
- Went to Yoga. Twice
- Then the big one: walked into my hairdresser yesterday and told her to do something crazy. I emerged looking like this:
Other than basic highlights throughout the past 2 decades, I have never ever changed my haircolor. Especially not to a redish-purpleish-blackish-brown thing. That’s when I realized perhaps I was having a midlife crisis.
My hairdresser very kindly and enthusiastically said, “Oh no you’re not. I’ve seen people have a midlife crisis. This isn’t. You just decided to push the reset button.”
Reset? Yes! That’s describes my scenario perfectly. Sometimes we just have to RESET.
I think as moms, we run and run and give and give and we suddenly have no time for ourselves and suddenly, the very basics have been neglected. I’m talking more on a physical level than mental here. Though both affect each other. I’m talking about losing my feminine energy and finding it again.
The thing about my downfall was that I didn’t mind it. This wasn’t an existential crisis; I wasn’t depressed. This was more like feeling burdened by trying to beautify. I didn’t feel like taking the time or energy for myself. I liked being lazy. What I kept wondering was, “Why don’t I care?” I still don’t have the answer. But I care now, and hope my post-frump ambition will hold. It has to. Because I just realized another first: my eyebrows don’t match my hair…they need to be dyed too.
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granny panties, haircolor, hairdo, hairdresser, highlight, midlife crisis, post baby underwear, reset button, saggy boobs | Categories:
Fearless Feisty Mama, Milestone Monday, Mom Situations, Mom Tricks and Tips
Monday, June 17th, 2013
Am happy to report all went textbook smoothly this morning at Children’s Hospital of Los Angeles. Emmett is now home with some swelling around his eye and some blue dye still draining. But his tear duct is now open. I don’t have to obsessively clean his eye 11 times a day. He is probably more thrilled than I.
When I first got there at the brutal hour of 5:45 a.m., I spoke with the anesthesiologist. He explained that first they give babies an oral sedative, so they don’t freak out when the gas mask goes on. It makes them fall gently to sleep. But he did give me the option to skip that step and go straight to gas. Thinking the less medicine the better, I said no to the oral stuff. I knew a cousin of Emmett’s had a reverse reaction and became very agitated.
However, that meant either Phil or I had to go back with him to keep him calm when the mask went on. The doctor warned me that he might start breathing really heavy, with his eyes rolling back. He wanted to make sure I could handle it. I quickly elected Phil. I know my limitations and if I had to, I could do it. But I knew Phil would have an easier time keeping calm.
Phil and Fia showed up at 7 and by 7:30 Phil was back there while Emmett went down. He came back shrugging his shoulders. “He’s fine.”
“But how did it go?” I asked.
“Fine,” he said again. Typical guy response. No details.
About 20 minutes after that the little man was in post-op. That’s when things got a bit ugly and I began to doubt my wisdom of skipping the oral sedative.
What the anesthesiologist didn’t tell me was that the oral sedative often allows them to come out of the fog a little more gently. At least that’s what the post-op nurses told me. Instead, Emmett was a mess. He was screaming, writhing his body around, and crying. His legs kept getting caught in the IV and blood pressure tubing and Phil had to mostly take over and just hold him tight, as I kept losing my grasp. Much of the time Em was doing it in a half-sleep daze, with his eyes partially shut. It took the better part of an hour for the gas to wear off enough for me to take him in my arms. I just brushed his hair with my fingertips and sang him into a deep sleep. Then we went home.
Once awake again, he remained agitated and irritable until he had his bottle. Things started getting back to normal then.
Now he is taking his usual afternoon nap and I’m decompressing. I’m so glad this procedure is over with. I’m lucky it was a simple and smooth operation. I can’t imagine having a chronically ill kid. Being at a hospital for children gives you great perspective.
So now he looks like a tough guy. I’ve always said he’s a bruiser. This is proof.
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Monday, June 10th, 2013
At the risk of freaking myself out, I am asking those of you who have had to put your babies under general anesthesia what to expect. Luckily for Emmett it won’t be for long–maybe 15 minutes. But the thought of him limp on the table could take me to a really dark place. I am trying not to focus on it. Nor do I want to get dramatic for what is to be a very simple, routine surgery.
One friend of mine said to just be prepared that I may lose it unexpectedly. She said she was completely cool leading up to her son’s surgery for tubes in his ears. But as soon as she saw him on the table not moving and being wheeled away she lost it.
The procedure is to open up his clogged tear duct. This thing has taunted us from birth. It’s fairly common–but usually the duct opens on its own before your child turns 1. Emmett’s didn’t. After consulting two different specialists and waiting until he turned 16 months, I threw in the towel and scheduled the procedure. There is a window of time when the surgery is far more likely to open up the duct. I am right in that window. If I wait much longer I could chance him having a leaky eye.
The only risk really involved with this is the general anesthesia. That is the only reason I have put it off this long. I kept hoping it would open on its own. But as it stands now, there is constant goop in the corner of his right eye. He often has tears running down that cheek no matter what mood he is in (which is mostly happy). It hasn’t changed since he was born. I know how sick he is of me constantly cleaning it out. There are some mornings when we wakes up with it gooped shut. Poor guy.
We have an excellent pediatric eye surgeon and it will be done at Children’s Hospital of Los Angeles. We are scheduled for Monday morning, June 17. I will keep you posted. Also, how long will he be drowsy for afterwards? Surgery is less than 30 minutes. In fact, to open the duct it can be done in 2 minutes. So I think he will only be under for avery short time. Any pointers or insight is much appreciated.
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