I woke up today very happy to be working from my Troy office today. I was unimpressed with the 40-60 minute one-way commute to Farmington Hills earlier in the week. I got ready and was taking my vitamins when I heard a soft mewing noise. I assumed the cat was up to some shenanigans and swallowed another pill when the cat walked by me, croaked, and sat down to observe. The mewing noise continued but was obviously not being made by Soup. I followed it upstairs to find Lilah still asleep but whimpering in her crib. I ran my hand over her forehead and felt her burning up with fever. She sat up and reached for me, pitifully saying, "Oww Mama," when I took hold of her. I took her temperature - 101.2. I don't have a sickly or feverish child on a regular basis. In fact, her previous ear infection was the only time she has ever cleared a low grade 99 for teething. I wasn't alarmed as much as concerned.
I gave her Motrin and a vitamin C/zinc lozenge and snuggled her after getting her a some water. She refused any food. Dano was up by then and helped me get her settled with a movie as I tried (unsuccessfully) to sneak out the door without her noticing. It killed me to leave, even knowing she was in the best possible hands.
Her fever went down to 99 in an hour and she was playing. I was relieved and went about my work day while still communicating with Dano. I toyed with the idea of getting her a Saturday morning appointment so we didn't have any weirdness pop up over the weekend. I got her new patient forms all filled out and faxed a records request to her previous pediatricians. After only 4.5 hours, the Motrin wore off and Dano reported she was listless and feverish again, this time climbing to 102. I had no Tylenol to supplement with in the house, so I expressed my concern to Maryl, the head nurse who has been in charge of my training. Within minutes, Lilah Rose had herself an appointment with Dr. Kolin for 2 hours in the future.
I watched the computer system click away as the office staff threw a chart together in no time for my daughter, who hadn't been more than a name to them moments before. Unlike other offices, they wanted her to have more Motrin before coming in, choosing to believe the parents and examine a comfortable child rather than have to see the fever and misery for themselves. I got a call telling me that Dano and Lilah were in the elevator - the MAs had been watching out the window. I was unsure how to proceed from there. Maryl said, "Go be a Mom." I was so thankful.
I went to the waiting room to find it empty. They had been taken straight back to a room. The MA Crystal was in the middle of getting Lilah to stand on the scale - 26lbs! Even with a fever she was still laughing and playing around. Her temp was down to 99 after the Motrin again. We only waited about 10 minutes for Dr. Kolin. Lilah had already told me she wanted a girl doctor at the new peds office, so I figured we'd see how she took to Dr. Kolin. She came in and said, "Hi Lilah Rose! I'm Dr. Myra!" She gave Lilah a high five and said she felt so lucky to be the first one to get to know her, and that she was beautiful. She asked me if anything pertinent had been going on lately, anyone we knew with strep, any colds or teething. I mentioned her knee infection and the doctor took a look and said she wasn't at all worried but checked the knee and hip lymph nodes anyway. Her ears looked "beautiful" and no infection there. No cough or congestion. She took one look in Lilah's mouth (with Lilah saying, "Blah!") and spotted some ulcers. "Coxsackies! That's Hand-foot-and mouth disease." Just a virus to run its course. She'd have a high fever for a few days and all we needed to do was keep it down and keep her comfortable. They didn't even have to strep test her. I was amazingly thankful they didn't try to throw her on antibiotics for no reason.
When Dr. Kolin was finished, she offered to hand Lilah back to me. Lilah said, "No, don't want to go to Mama." Lilah was totally comfortable with her. She explained everything she was doing to Lilah before she did it, and was quick without being brusque. We were out in under 30 minutes. I was back at my desk plugging away at my stack of health forms and Lilah was happy as a clam with a fistful of stickers and an orange sucker. In 3-5 days, she'll be good as new. Currently, she is screaming as loud and as long as she can since the ulcers hurt. "Aaaaah! Honey, it hurts. Aaaaaah!" It might be a long weekend, but I haven't felt this comfortable with her care since Dr. Hatfield. She can stay at this practice until she's 18 as far as I'm concerned.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Sunday, July 3, 2011
The infection pt. 2
Before I could fall asleep, I had to check on Lilah to make sure she hadn't spiked a fever or perhaps died (these obviously being the only options). Other than sleeping on top of her blankets and it being chilly with the air conditioning on, she was fast asleep with cool, dry skin. Her bandage was still intact and looked exactly the same.
I woke up at 5 and contemplated checking on her again but decided to stay sane and go back to sleep. At 8 I woke with a start at the cat nudging me awake to alert me that she had thrown up under the dining room table. I heard Lilah whining in her crib so I went to get her. Her skin was ice cold because she had thrown all the blankets out of the crib and sat in the air conditioning. Her bandage looked wet and had an odd color to it. I changed her diaper. The whole time she was chanting, "Take it off, Mama? Yeah? Gonna take it off now?" while tugging at her bandage. I took off the tape and unwound it. The swelling was reduced. The redness had calmed down to a gentle pink and was receding from the sharpie lines. The blistered area in the middle was more open and the surrounding skin was peeling a bit but I saw nothing but bright red tissue underneath. No pus, not a bit of drainage. Just healing skin.
The bandage, however, was not so lucky. It was soaking wet (possibly from the aloe goo) and covered in a rainbow of infection colors - greens, milky whites, and yellows. No smell but the aloe, thank goodness. But I looked at it in horror and couldn't believe that had all been in my child's body. Her body, yes, but thank God not her blood. Not yet.
Maybe I've been too nonchalant about her cuts and scrapes in the past. In an effort to make a tough little warrior who doesn't come crying to her mother with every stubbed toe, I might have glossed over the fact that she is still young with a developing immune system and we live in a world full of nasty invisible things. I will still let her stand up and brush off a hurt when she falls, but next time she bleeds I will make her pause from her playing to clean and cover the area. Soap, water, and Calendula if nothing else.
I truly believe my aloe plant did most of the good work in drawing out the infection and healing the underlying tissue. Other than the hydrogen peroxide and bactroban (even though hydrogen peroxide is a naturally occurring compound in the body), everything I used on her was natural. I'm not a super hippie type mother and I am a medical professional, but I think so many of the over the counter products we use in our day to day life could be equally substituted for things that were created and placed in the environment for our use. Animals know what plants to eat to cure different ailments, but humans are really bad at trusting nature after having been indoctrinated to run to the drugstore. Maybe more on this to come. For now I'm just beyond thankful that Lilah is fine. She never even knew anything could be wrong and that's the way it should be.
I woke up at 5 and contemplated checking on her again but decided to stay sane and go back to sleep. At 8 I woke with a start at the cat nudging me awake to alert me that she had thrown up under the dining room table. I heard Lilah whining in her crib so I went to get her. Her skin was ice cold because she had thrown all the blankets out of the crib and sat in the air conditioning. Her bandage looked wet and had an odd color to it. I changed her diaper. The whole time she was chanting, "Take it off, Mama? Yeah? Gonna take it off now?" while tugging at her bandage. I took off the tape and unwound it. The swelling was reduced. The redness had calmed down to a gentle pink and was receding from the sharpie lines. The blistered area in the middle was more open and the surrounding skin was peeling a bit but I saw nothing but bright red tissue underneath. No pus, not a bit of drainage. Just healing skin.
The bandage, however, was not so lucky. It was soaking wet (possibly from the aloe goo) and covered in a rainbow of infection colors - greens, milky whites, and yellows. No smell but the aloe, thank goodness. But I looked at it in horror and couldn't believe that had all been in my child's body. Her body, yes, but thank God not her blood. Not yet.
Maybe I've been too nonchalant about her cuts and scrapes in the past. In an effort to make a tough little warrior who doesn't come crying to her mother with every stubbed toe, I might have glossed over the fact that she is still young with a developing immune system and we live in a world full of nasty invisible things. I will still let her stand up and brush off a hurt when she falls, but next time she bleeds I will make her pause from her playing to clean and cover the area. Soap, water, and Calendula if nothing else.
I truly believe my aloe plant did most of the good work in drawing out the infection and healing the underlying tissue. Other than the hydrogen peroxide and bactroban (even though hydrogen peroxide is a naturally occurring compound in the body), everything I used on her was natural. I'm not a super hippie type mother and I am a medical professional, but I think so many of the over the counter products we use in our day to day life could be equally substituted for things that were created and placed in the environment for our use. Animals know what plants to eat to cure different ailments, but humans are really bad at trusting nature after having been indoctrinated to run to the drugstore. Maybe more on this to come. For now I'm just beyond thankful that Lilah is fine. She never even knew anything could be wrong and that's the way it should be.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
The infection
Ages since I last blogged, yeah yeah, don't judge me.
Lilah has been harder to keep up with every day. As per her normal 2 year old development, she has mood swings to rival a prepubescent girl. One moment my adorable daughter can be playing with me or reading a book. The next, she's grabbing my glasses off my face and smacking me with them, angry at a situation I'm not even aware of yet. We try our best to handle these things calmly as they arise, but some times are more difficult than others.
On Father's Day, Lilah was enjoying herself and running through the sprinkler with her cousins in the Ball's front yard. Kim, Dennis, and I were supervising the kids. I turned my head to answer Dennis and I saw his eyes get wide and he yelled, "Baby girl, you get back here!" At the same time, I heard Adam and Mike yell, "Lilah! Get out of the road!" I whipped my head around to see Lilah merrily frolicking in the middle of the street. I took off to get her, yelling at her to come back. She laughed at me and ran away. I was faster and caught up with her. I grabbed her by the arm, snatched her up, and shook her.
"You don't ever run away from your mama and you don't ever go in the road." By the time, she was crying hysterically and trying to wriggle away from me. I plopped her down on the steps for a time out. I was shaking. I told Kim and Dennis, "If I hadn't been so intent on getting her back here, I'd have spanked her butt." They both agreed they'd have spanked their kid.
The rest of the day went off without incident. She fell and scraped her knee at one point. There was a bit of blood and dirt, which I washed away. But Lilah is continually falling and scraping something so to be honest, I wasn't too concerned.
A week later, the scabbed knee was still scabbed and there was a tiny red area around the spot. I thought that curious, and made a mental note to keep checking on it.
Three days ago, the scab seemed to be more raised and a bit swollen. The reddish-pink area around it had gone from minimal and light to fire-engine red and larger. While (again) playing in the sprinkler, the scab softened and I brushed it away to see if there was any noticeable infection underneath. There wasn't (even after a bit of prodding until Lilah pushed me away). I told myself I would check on it in the morning.
By morning, it was a good inch larger on all sides, bright red, warm, and swollen. I kicked myself for bothering it in case I spread something. Still not a peep of complaint from Lilah and no fever (both pain and fever would have hinted at something systemic, not localized to the knee anymore). We went to the zoo and I worried about it on and off all day, reminding myself I would do some research when I got home.
When we got home and she was down for her nap, I did some digging. Apparently it was pretty common to get a staph infection in a wound like a scraped knee, staph being an opportunistic bastard. I had to wade through yahoo answer sites (where panicked mothers literally told the public and instructed their own children to open and dig out ANY wound and dump peroxide in it or you would get MRSA, have to go on IV antibiotics, and die anyway no matter what) to get to actual medical journals with helpful photos and treatment. I nearly had an anxiety attack while waiting to get a reasonable plan of care together for her. I snapped at Dano, cried, held the baby as if for the last time, and finally organized my thoughts. Lilah was unimpressed, but I held a warm compress to the area to bring the infection to the surface. I put hydrogen peroxide on it and let it bubble and boil. She squirmed and told me to stop it. I was relieved to have found some all natural remedies as well as the old medical stand-bys. I applied some bactroban ointment and Calendula salve. Calendula is a flower that is approved to treat wounds and inflammation in Germany. In America of course, if it doesn't come out of a lab it isn't worth the time it takes to grow the plant. I happen to have Calendula on backup supply at all times because it works beautifully and I don't have to worry about her eating it or something. The Calendula salve was applied liberally.
I then took a sharpie and traced the edges of the redness exactly. This way, I could track if the redness was spreading, reducing, or staying the same without the need to just "eyeball it". I had also nearly smacked myself in the head when I remembered the healing properties of aloe vera. It has been proven to heal hurts (even surgical wounds!) nearly twice as fast as those without aloe due to its vitamin E, C, and zinc. Also, it increases blood flow to the area to promote healing. Aloe alone has strong antibiotic properties. It reduces inflammation and speeds up the healing process. I have an aloe plant in the house, so I cut off a big fat leaf and slit it longways all the way to the top. Using a spoon, I scraped the gel (i.e. sticky, gooey slime) from the middle of the leaf and piled all that loveliness onto a 4x4. I bound that 4x4 loosely to her wound, taping it lightly in place with paper tape so she couldn't tug it loose. Lastly, she was allowed to suck on a vitamin c and zinc lozenge to boost her immune system and I gave her ibuprofen to reduce the swelling and any discomfort she wasn't vocalizing. She snuggled with us and watched Doctor Who with Tu (her new giant plush giraffe she named herself) and read stories until it was time for bed. My strong hope is that she wakes up in the morning happy, healthy, and with the redness decreasing from the sharpie border lines. I am trying hard not to be scared or worried. I am hoping she will heal herself with a little help and not need any more meds. I am hoping.
Lilah has been harder to keep up with every day. As per her normal 2 year old development, she has mood swings to rival a prepubescent girl. One moment my adorable daughter can be playing with me or reading a book. The next, she's grabbing my glasses off my face and smacking me with them, angry at a situation I'm not even aware of yet. We try our best to handle these things calmly as they arise, but some times are more difficult than others.
On Father's Day, Lilah was enjoying herself and running through the sprinkler with her cousins in the Ball's front yard. Kim, Dennis, and I were supervising the kids. I turned my head to answer Dennis and I saw his eyes get wide and he yelled, "Baby girl, you get back here!" At the same time, I heard Adam and Mike yell, "Lilah! Get out of the road!" I whipped my head around to see Lilah merrily frolicking in the middle of the street. I took off to get her, yelling at her to come back. She laughed at me and ran away. I was faster and caught up with her. I grabbed her by the arm, snatched her up, and shook her.
"You don't ever run away from your mama and you don't ever go in the road." By the time, she was crying hysterically and trying to wriggle away from me. I plopped her down on the steps for a time out. I was shaking. I told Kim and Dennis, "If I hadn't been so intent on getting her back here, I'd have spanked her butt." They both agreed they'd have spanked their kid.
The rest of the day went off without incident. She fell and scraped her knee at one point. There was a bit of blood and dirt, which I washed away. But Lilah is continually falling and scraping something so to be honest, I wasn't too concerned.
A week later, the scabbed knee was still scabbed and there was a tiny red area around the spot. I thought that curious, and made a mental note to keep checking on it.
Three days ago, the scab seemed to be more raised and a bit swollen. The reddish-pink area around it had gone from minimal and light to fire-engine red and larger. While (again) playing in the sprinkler, the scab softened and I brushed it away to see if there was any noticeable infection underneath. There wasn't (even after a bit of prodding until Lilah pushed me away). I told myself I would check on it in the morning.
By morning, it was a good inch larger on all sides, bright red, warm, and swollen. I kicked myself for bothering it in case I spread something. Still not a peep of complaint from Lilah and no fever (both pain and fever would have hinted at something systemic, not localized to the knee anymore). We went to the zoo and I worried about it on and off all day, reminding myself I would do some research when I got home.
When we got home and she was down for her nap, I did some digging. Apparently it was pretty common to get a staph infection in a wound like a scraped knee, staph being an opportunistic bastard. I had to wade through yahoo answer sites (where panicked mothers literally told the public and instructed their own children to open and dig out ANY wound and dump peroxide in it or you would get MRSA, have to go on IV antibiotics, and die anyway no matter what) to get to actual medical journals with helpful photos and treatment. I nearly had an anxiety attack while waiting to get a reasonable plan of care together for her. I snapped at Dano, cried, held the baby as if for the last time, and finally organized my thoughts. Lilah was unimpressed, but I held a warm compress to the area to bring the infection to the surface. I put hydrogen peroxide on it and let it bubble and boil. She squirmed and told me to stop it. I was relieved to have found some all natural remedies as well as the old medical stand-bys. I applied some bactroban ointment and Calendula salve. Calendula is a flower that is approved to treat wounds and inflammation in Germany. In America of course, if it doesn't come out of a lab it isn't worth the time it takes to grow the plant. I happen to have Calendula on backup supply at all times because it works beautifully and I don't have to worry about her eating it or something. The Calendula salve was applied liberally.
I then took a sharpie and traced the edges of the redness exactly. This way, I could track if the redness was spreading, reducing, or staying the same without the need to just "eyeball it". I had also nearly smacked myself in the head when I remembered the healing properties of aloe vera. It has been proven to heal hurts (even surgical wounds!) nearly twice as fast as those without aloe due to its vitamin E, C, and zinc. Also, it increases blood flow to the area to promote healing. Aloe alone has strong antibiotic properties. It reduces inflammation and speeds up the healing process. I have an aloe plant in the house, so I cut off a big fat leaf and slit it longways all the way to the top. Using a spoon, I scraped the gel (i.e. sticky, gooey slime) from the middle of the leaf and piled all that loveliness onto a 4x4. I bound that 4x4 loosely to her wound, taping it lightly in place with paper tape so she couldn't tug it loose. Lastly, she was allowed to suck on a vitamin c and zinc lozenge to boost her immune system and I gave her ibuprofen to reduce the swelling and any discomfort she wasn't vocalizing. She snuggled with us and watched Doctor Who with Tu (her new giant plush giraffe she named herself) and read stories until it was time for bed. My strong hope is that she wakes up in the morning happy, healthy, and with the redness decreasing from the sharpie border lines. I am trying hard not to be scared or worried. I am hoping she will heal herself with a little help and not need any more meds. I am hoping.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Just keep swimming
That seems to be the theme of the entire last 30 days. It has been stress piled on top of crisis, and the only thing holding our family together is, well, the family. I have had hard times in my life before where I've wanted to crawl into bed, pull my covers up over my head, and utterly refuse to come out until the bad times have gone away and the sun is shining merrily again. It seems like ever since Dano came into my life, I don't have those kinds of days anymore. I have this amazing sense of foundation. Instead of problems driving me to my knees in defeat and leaving me wondering miserably who I am in all of it, I am driven deeper into the arms of my husband and child. In comparison, the problems never seem as big when faced with the miracle that is the Alexanders. My crises still come, but now I tend to buckle down, set my jaw, and figure out a way through them. Some terrible things have gone on in my lifetime, and I've never been able to stop or change a single one of them. But I have noticed that I live through all of them and come out on the other side a different person. Sometimes it's a minute change in my existence; sometimes it's a drastic life change that leaves me reeling. Either way, I always make it and come out on the other side. This set of crises won't be any different.
In an effort to distract ourselves from the goings-on of this terrible weekend, Lilah and I went to the Farmer's Market with Rob after Dano made us bagels. We wandered around there for a bit (Lilah was on her best behavior this time). Lilah got to sample organic oatmeal, homemade gnocchi in basil sauce, creamery blueberry yogurt, fresh baked flaxseed bread, and local honey peanut butter. Rob got a cider slush. After trying it, he offered me a sip. "Here, you've got to try some." I took an enthusiastic drink.
Lilah was behind a few paces and I heard her start to chant, "Lilah tie? Lilah needs to tie. Please tie? PLEASE TIE, MAMA? PLEASE?" I had no idea what she was on about. I took another sip of slush and she started to cry. "Lilah wants to tie it, Mama." I suddenly realized two things simultaneously. 1) We needed to continue our work with consonant blend pronunciation. 2) Lilah wanted to try the slush and believed she would die if she couldn't. We all shared it on the ride home and I made it a point to tell Dano what this new phrase meant so as to avoid future meltdowns and confusion.
After Lilah's nap, we all went to Stoney Creek Park in Shelby Township to swim and have a picnic. Lilah loved the lake, having (naturally) no fear of older children, deeper water, seaweed, fish, or drowning. She utterly rebelled against floating in her nice, safe little lily pad boat, opting instead for the open sea and trying to yank her hand out of ours as often as possible. After hauling my spluttering daughter out from under the water for the 80th time, I reflected that perhaps we should cut back on her viewings of Ponyo and have a few earnest family discussions on the realities of little girls who are not, and had never been, fishes.
We grilled chicken pizzas by the water as some storm clouds rolled in. Lilah devoured her entire pizza in between playing on the nearby playground and running wildly about. Some other little girls were walking up the slides, and she was attempting to do the same and falling down. They told her (snottily in my opinion), "You can't do it. Only big girls can." Then they asked me to watch them do what my daughter was trying hard to mimic. I told them to zip it and go play somewhere else if they couldn't be nice to a baby. Dano disapproved of this decision. I disapproved of snotty 7 year olds.
We got Dairy Park on the way home and put Lilah to bed. She cuddled up to her stuffed Minion from Despicable Me and told me she loved me before falling asleep. I closed her bedroom door and it wasn't work, school, money, or life on my mind. It was how blessed I was to have such a lovely family and how I couldn't make it a single day without them.
In an effort to distract ourselves from the goings-on of this terrible weekend, Lilah and I went to the Farmer's Market with Rob after Dano made us bagels. We wandered around there for a bit (Lilah was on her best behavior this time). Lilah got to sample organic oatmeal, homemade gnocchi in basil sauce, creamery blueberry yogurt, fresh baked flaxseed bread, and local honey peanut butter. Rob got a cider slush. After trying it, he offered me a sip. "Here, you've got to try some." I took an enthusiastic drink.
Lilah was behind a few paces and I heard her start to chant, "Lilah tie? Lilah needs to tie. Please tie? PLEASE TIE, MAMA? PLEASE?" I had no idea what she was on about. I took another sip of slush and she started to cry. "Lilah wants to tie it, Mama." I suddenly realized two things simultaneously. 1) We needed to continue our work with consonant blend pronunciation. 2) Lilah wanted to try the slush and believed she would die if she couldn't. We all shared it on the ride home and I made it a point to tell Dano what this new phrase meant so as to avoid future meltdowns and confusion.
After Lilah's nap, we all went to Stoney Creek Park in Shelby Township to swim and have a picnic. Lilah loved the lake, having (naturally) no fear of older children, deeper water, seaweed, fish, or drowning. She utterly rebelled against floating in her nice, safe little lily pad boat, opting instead for the open sea and trying to yank her hand out of ours as often as possible. After hauling my spluttering daughter out from under the water for the 80th time, I reflected that perhaps we should cut back on her viewings of Ponyo and have a few earnest family discussions on the realities of little girls who are not, and had never been, fishes.
We grilled chicken pizzas by the water as some storm clouds rolled in. Lilah devoured her entire pizza in between playing on the nearby playground and running wildly about. Some other little girls were walking up the slides, and she was attempting to do the same and falling down. They told her (snottily in my opinion), "You can't do it. Only big girls can." Then they asked me to watch them do what my daughter was trying hard to mimic. I told them to zip it and go play somewhere else if they couldn't be nice to a baby. Dano disapproved of this decision. I disapproved of snotty 7 year olds.
We got Dairy Park on the way home and put Lilah to bed. She cuddled up to her stuffed Minion from Despicable Me and told me she loved me before falling asleep. I closed her bedroom door and it wasn't work, school, money, or life on my mind. It was how blessed I was to have such a lovely family and how I couldn't make it a single day without them.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Still 2
Terrible Two's. Yeah yeah yeah. When I saw that shrieking toddler in the grocery store, I always thought less about the child and more about the reaction of the parent(s). Embarrassment? Anger? Frustration? Did they give in? Did they yell? Did they punish the child?
Having grown up always around children and babies, I had become fairly good at ignoring tantrums and fits. Of course, that becomes worlds harder when it is your own precious little angel kicking and thrashing in public. In my head, I celebrate Lilah's fierce desire for autonomy and independence. Outwardly, it's getting harder and harder to deal with without dissolving into a screaming fit of my own.
We went to the Royal Oak Farmer's Market this morning. Lilah was dressed in a beautiful new white dress with green and blue flowers embroidered on it. She had white socks with green flowers, and a white sweater with green and blue buttons. I had laid out the outfit thinking we were taking some family photos later, but the weather intervened. Dano dressed her while I brushed my teeth and I smiled to myself thinking how gorgeous she would look in the sunshine in her pretty new dress. I came out of the bathroom and my eyes were accosted by red laser lights. Lilah was wearing her darling outfit and had completed the ensemble with neon pink and orange light up sandals. I immediately nabbed her to change her shoes, but Dano wouldn't let me.
"She picked those shoes out herself. You can't change them." I started grinding my teeth and we compromised. Dano agreed to let me change her shoes to her white ones for a couple of pictures (that never ended up happening anyway) but I was to leave them on for the time being.
While we were out, Lilah decided to morph into a small monster. She refused to hold hands while crossing the street, so one of us had to carry her at all times. She had a small powdered sugar donut, and smiled prettily for any passer-by. When it came time to walk around the Farmer's Market, she utterly refused to budge, crying and turning into a jelly fish when one of us attempted to hold her. I told her if she didn't stop carrying on, she would get a time out right there. She sat down on the concrete, kicked both feet out in front of her, tossed her head back and howled. Dano and I looked at each other. I'm sure I looked like I wanted to throw my head back and howl right along with her. She looked fairly comical in her angelic outfit, neon light up shoes, tear-streaked face, and head in her hands sitting on the ground in the middle of the Farmer's Market. Thankfully we could barely hear her over the sounds of the market. I picked her up and plopped her little butt in the closest chair.
"You can come out when you stop your screaming." She smacked herself in the chest and tore out some of her hair.
Seconds later. "Gonna get down now, Mama." And she took leave of the seat. I plopped her right back in it. She shrieked some more. People were aware and watching at that point. I turned my back to her. Normally I walk out of the room when she's in time out, but I couldn't very well walk out of the Farmer's Market, and if anyone tried to kidnap her I figured I would hear her screams getting more distant. After a couple minutes she stopped, so she was allowed to get down. She even let me carry her without incident.
We went to lunch instead of going for pictures, due to an impending thunderstorm. Lilah chose to throw her fork at Dano, shove her plate away ("Not gonna eat the noodles"), try to wriggle down, and all manner of nonsense. Dano took her outside for a timeout at one point. We ate as fast as we could and took her home for a nap. At one point of her tearing around the restaurant with her head thrown back, laughing maniacally, a waitress said, "Aww, isn't she cute. Is she 2?" It's like people just inherently know. She's a bundle of energy and curiosity. Exactly like the Decemberists' lyric - "All fiery Irish, clip and curl. All brine and piss and vinegar" wrapped up in a 33 inch tall child.
The only question I have is, "When does it stop?"
Having grown up always around children and babies, I had become fairly good at ignoring tantrums and fits. Of course, that becomes worlds harder when it is your own precious little angel kicking and thrashing in public. In my head, I celebrate Lilah's fierce desire for autonomy and independence. Outwardly, it's getting harder and harder to deal with without dissolving into a screaming fit of my own.
We went to the Royal Oak Farmer's Market this morning. Lilah was dressed in a beautiful new white dress with green and blue flowers embroidered on it. She had white socks with green flowers, and a white sweater with green and blue buttons. I had laid out the outfit thinking we were taking some family photos later, but the weather intervened. Dano dressed her while I brushed my teeth and I smiled to myself thinking how gorgeous she would look in the sunshine in her pretty new dress. I came out of the bathroom and my eyes were accosted by red laser lights. Lilah was wearing her darling outfit and had completed the ensemble with neon pink and orange light up sandals. I immediately nabbed her to change her shoes, but Dano wouldn't let me.
"She picked those shoes out herself. You can't change them." I started grinding my teeth and we compromised. Dano agreed to let me change her shoes to her white ones for a couple of pictures (that never ended up happening anyway) but I was to leave them on for the time being.
While we were out, Lilah decided to morph into a small monster. She refused to hold hands while crossing the street, so one of us had to carry her at all times. She had a small powdered sugar donut, and smiled prettily for any passer-by. When it came time to walk around the Farmer's Market, she utterly refused to budge, crying and turning into a jelly fish when one of us attempted to hold her. I told her if she didn't stop carrying on, she would get a time out right there. She sat down on the concrete, kicked both feet out in front of her, tossed her head back and howled. Dano and I looked at each other. I'm sure I looked like I wanted to throw my head back and howl right along with her. She looked fairly comical in her angelic outfit, neon light up shoes, tear-streaked face, and head in her hands sitting on the ground in the middle of the Farmer's Market. Thankfully we could barely hear her over the sounds of the market. I picked her up and plopped her little butt in the closest chair.
"You can come out when you stop your screaming." She smacked herself in the chest and tore out some of her hair.
Seconds later. "Gonna get down now, Mama." And she took leave of the seat. I plopped her right back in it. She shrieked some more. People were aware and watching at that point. I turned my back to her. Normally I walk out of the room when she's in time out, but I couldn't very well walk out of the Farmer's Market, and if anyone tried to kidnap her I figured I would hear her screams getting more distant. After a couple minutes she stopped, so she was allowed to get down. She even let me carry her without incident.
We went to lunch instead of going for pictures, due to an impending thunderstorm. Lilah chose to throw her fork at Dano, shove her plate away ("Not gonna eat the noodles"), try to wriggle down, and all manner of nonsense. Dano took her outside for a timeout at one point. We ate as fast as we could and took her home for a nap. At one point of her tearing around the restaurant with her head thrown back, laughing maniacally, a waitress said, "Aww, isn't she cute. Is she 2?" It's like people just inherently know. She's a bundle of energy and curiosity. Exactly like the Decemberists' lyric - "All fiery Irish, clip and curl. All brine and piss and vinegar" wrapped up in a 33 inch tall child.
The only question I have is, "When does it stop?"
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Jabbering away
Lilah went with Dano, Rob, and me to Royal Oak today to get lunch and mill about. It was a blustery 70 degree day. She wore a new pink dress and pink and green flip flops. She was very excited and kept saying, "New shoes! Pretty new dress!"
We went to Pronto's. Ironically, the food generally takes a minute there. This is all right with Lilah, as there is a bakery up front with displays of all manner of treats in glass cases. She took her shoes off and handed them to me as soon as we got there. "Here, Mama. Do you want it?" When she first started asking this particular question, I would sometimes reply no. No, I did not want that banana peel. No, I did not want that piece of trash. It became rapidly apparent that "No" was not an appropriate answer to the question.
"Do you want it?"
"No thanks."
"...Here. Here you go. Say thank you."
"...Thank you?"
"You're welcome, Mama."
I graciously accepted the shoes and Lilah said, "All done." I let her get down and prance around, as the place was nearly empty. I told her to go to the big window in front and look outside. She instead chose to make a beeline to the table full of cakes in the middle of the room. Dano steered her toward the desserts that were safely housed behind glass. She discussed all the ones she would like to eat with him while Rob and I chatted at the table.
Lilah ate everything placed in front of her. A grilled chicken sandwich, pickle, fries, onion ring, lettuce slice, chip, slice of tomato, bacon, cheese. I told her she could have literally anything she wanted for dessert after seeing her eat a slice of lettuce. She normally shuns all raw vegetables. After we were done there, Rob and I walked Lilah to Coldstone while Dano perused through books at Barnes and Noble. Lilah got a strawberry-banana-mango sorbet with sprinkles. She was feeling particularly lovey today. She kept reaching for my hand. "Wanna hold your hand, Mama." Sometimes she'd just stop and reach her arms up. "Wanna hooold you Mamaaaa!" I never get to hold my baby anymore, so I didn't mind carrying her around Royal Oak.
In Barnes and Noble, she played trains and ate her ice cream. She asked everyone she came into contact with their names, and generally had a good time.
I'm amazed every day at how fun, vocal, and coherent she is for being just barely 2 years old. Nothing extraordinary happened today. It was just a normal day for the family. Time spent having fun with each other and friends. I remarked at lunch, "She looks like a person today. I wish she'd knock it off."
We went to Pronto's. Ironically, the food generally takes a minute there. This is all right with Lilah, as there is a bakery up front with displays of all manner of treats in glass cases. She took her shoes off and handed them to me as soon as we got there. "Here, Mama. Do you want it?" When she first started asking this particular question, I would sometimes reply no. No, I did not want that banana peel. No, I did not want that piece of trash. It became rapidly apparent that "No" was not an appropriate answer to the question.
"Do you want it?"
"No thanks."
"...Here. Here you go. Say thank you."
"...Thank you?"
"You're welcome, Mama."
I graciously accepted the shoes and Lilah said, "All done." I let her get down and prance around, as the place was nearly empty. I told her to go to the big window in front and look outside. She instead chose to make a beeline to the table full of cakes in the middle of the room. Dano steered her toward the desserts that were safely housed behind glass. She discussed all the ones she would like to eat with him while Rob and I chatted at the table.
Lilah ate everything placed in front of her. A grilled chicken sandwich, pickle, fries, onion ring, lettuce slice, chip, slice of tomato, bacon, cheese. I told her she could have literally anything she wanted for dessert after seeing her eat a slice of lettuce. She normally shuns all raw vegetables. After we were done there, Rob and I walked Lilah to Coldstone while Dano perused through books at Barnes and Noble. Lilah got a strawberry-banana-mango sorbet with sprinkles. She was feeling particularly lovey today. She kept reaching for my hand. "Wanna hold your hand, Mama." Sometimes she'd just stop and reach her arms up. "Wanna hooold you Mamaaaa!" I never get to hold my baby anymore, so I didn't mind carrying her around Royal Oak.
In Barnes and Noble, she played trains and ate her ice cream. She asked everyone she came into contact with their names, and generally had a good time.
I'm amazed every day at how fun, vocal, and coherent she is for being just barely 2 years old. Nothing extraordinary happened today. It was just a normal day for the family. Time spent having fun with each other and friends. I remarked at lunch, "She looks like a person today. I wish she'd knock it off."
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Two Nights
Currently, I am writing this with a pressure bandage on my right anticubital space. My head is a little floaty from giving blood today and I have a large to-do list looming before me. In an effort to evade this, I thought I would blog about the horrific nature of the past two days.
Monday night, I went to Rob's house after work to watch a movie. I left around 2ish and came home to a sleeping Dano. I wasn't too worried about the time. We both had Tuesday off. I roused him to brush his teeth and come upstairs. I put on pajamas, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and sleepily climbed the staircase. I always check on Lilah after I get home from work, so I sneaked into her room and crept up to the crib. There was an odd smell in the room, and I noticed the window was open. It smelled like macaroni and cheese, or sour milk. Maybe both. I rolled my eyes and assumed there was some godforsaken animal outside that had gotten into the garbage. As I got close to the crib, I noticed she was wearing only a t shirt. I picked her up to change her into warmer pajamas and realized three things simultaneously as she nuzzled into my neck and said, "Hi, Mama." 1) I was standing in something wet. 2) Lilah's hair and clothes were wet. 3) The smell was coming from Lilah. Immediately I thought she'd had a bad diaper explosion, so I flipped on the light. What I saw made me reel. It was like a battle scene from a movie. It was carnage. Her crib was covered in vomit, and she had apparently being going for distance, since it made it out of the crib and onto the floor (under my feet, of course). Her hair, clothes, face, and now my socks, shoulder, tank top, and arms were coated. I switched into nurse mode out of self-preservation.
I carried her downstairs and started a hot bath. I took her temperature as she smiled sleepily up at me. Nothing. I stripped her down and plopped her in the tub. She splashed and played while Dano started her bedding in the washer. I wrapped her up in a towel and got her in warm pajamas. Dano fetched her some diluted juice. She kept saying, "I'm hungry, Mama!" I wasn't comfortable enough to give her anything but fluids. We put her in bed with us and Dano brought her a host of stuffed animals at her request. Her bear, frog, penguin, and worm all flocked to her side as she watched Aladdin and snuggled with me. Her bedding was clean and dry by the time the movie was over at 5AM. She had since decided it was playtime and was bounding all over the bed. Any subsequent attempts to snuggle were met with impatient wriggles and, "Bye, see ya!" In talking it over with Dano, we realized that she had eaten mac and cheese for lunch and a grilled cheese for dinner. Though she normally tolerates small amounts of cheese, this was too much for our lactose intolerant little daughter. We tucked her back in her bed and she slept until her normal wake up time - 8AM.
I went through Tuesday like a robot. I snatched sleep when I could in 20 minute intervals here and there. She went to sleep at 9 Tuesday night. By then I was so wired on iced Sidamo that Dano fell asleep at 11 and I stayed up until 1AM. Still very much awake, I decided to try getting into bed to coax tiredness. I sneaked once again into Lilah's room to make sure she hadn't randomly thrown up again. No vomit. However, she did sit straight up, look at me, and start shrieking at the top of her tiny lungs. Normally if she cries at night, we put her in bed with us until she calms down, after which she goes back in her crib for the night with no complaints. However, for whatever reason on this particular Tuesday night, she chose to break routine.
Dano put her back in bed. She screamed like she was being stabbed. I got her out and plopped her in bed with me. She played and giggled. This back and forth went on until 4:30. Finally I told Dano (who was about delirious and had class at 9AM) to let her cry a few minutes. After 10 minutes of alternating between sobbing pitifully and ear piercing shrieking, I started crying. I was beyond exhausted, and I firmly believe in not letting small children cry. At 2, if she was crying this long and hard, we had to be missing something. I felt helpless and upset. Crying was all I could do. I had nothing left. Dano lost his temper and went in there. "Stop it right this minute, Lilah Rose. Just stop it. You're making your mama cry." She cried even harder, and I couldn't do it anymore. I got out of bed without grabbing my glasses or sweater or anything. I just had on a thin t shirt and pants. I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I took her from Dano and she clung to my neck. She stopped crying instantly but still sobbed raggedly into my neck. Dano left to cool down. I was crying in Lilah's place. I held her and said, "Lilah, you have to sleep. Mama and Daddy have to sleep. You have to calm down and stop crying." She held me tighter and said, "Want Mama." I laid her down in her crib and she started screaming again. I sat next to her crib and put one hand on her chest and one on her head to stroke her hair. It took a few minutes before she would stop crying and saying, "C'mere". She just stared at me and hiccuped, convinced I was leaving. I was shivering from cold and emotions and exhaustion. I felt void and helpless. Eyes closed, I whispered, "Please, Ada." (my silly, childish name for God. It means Daddy.)
Something odd happened at that point. I felt something inside me, be it spirit or soul or what have you, rally all the remaining sanity and energy I had. I was a powerful woman who had created the tiny, distraught life in the crib in front of me. She feeds off my emotion constantly, and I was going to fill her with good ones. I had to transfer my energy to her. With a hand on her head and a hand on her heart, I closed my eyes and meditated.
Peace. Peace to my child. Calm mind, tranquil dreams, still waters, and serenity. Security, warmth, love, and all good feelings. Contentedness. Stillness. Quiet thoughts. Quiet heart. Freedom from worry and fear. Peace.
I willed all my warmth - physical and emotional - into my baby as her eyes drifted closed. I felt a shift, a transfer. I felt my benediction for my daughter trickle down like water over her, like the sound of rain. I felt a different kind of exhaustion. The kind that felt as if my spirit had wrapped its velvet wings around my daughter and encompassed her with all of my good thoughts and love. On a night where I had literally nothing left to give, I had the ability as a woman, a mother, and a healer to calm and comfort and protect. It rose up inside me from a place I didn't know existed before I conceived my daughter. It was a well of power and sacrement. I stayed with her until the birds started singing to greet the day and the sunlight was just starting to touch the edges of the night sky. Somewhere unbidden from the back of my depleted mind, this passage rose to the surface.
In the beginning, Gods created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the spirits of Gods were hovering over the waters.
Then Gods said, "Let us make man in our image, in our likeness.
So Gods created man in their own image.
In the image of Gods, they created him.
Male and female, they created them.
Gods saw all they had made, and it was very good. And there was evening, and there was morning - the 6th day.
Monday night, I went to Rob's house after work to watch a movie. I left around 2ish and came home to a sleeping Dano. I wasn't too worried about the time. We both had Tuesday off. I roused him to brush his teeth and come upstairs. I put on pajamas, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and sleepily climbed the staircase. I always check on Lilah after I get home from work, so I sneaked into her room and crept up to the crib. There was an odd smell in the room, and I noticed the window was open. It smelled like macaroni and cheese, or sour milk. Maybe both. I rolled my eyes and assumed there was some godforsaken animal outside that had gotten into the garbage. As I got close to the crib, I noticed she was wearing only a t shirt. I picked her up to change her into warmer pajamas and realized three things simultaneously as she nuzzled into my neck and said, "Hi, Mama." 1) I was standing in something wet. 2) Lilah's hair and clothes were wet. 3) The smell was coming from Lilah. Immediately I thought she'd had a bad diaper explosion, so I flipped on the light. What I saw made me reel. It was like a battle scene from a movie. It was carnage. Her crib was covered in vomit, and she had apparently being going for distance, since it made it out of the crib and onto the floor (under my feet, of course). Her hair, clothes, face, and now my socks, shoulder, tank top, and arms were coated. I switched into nurse mode out of self-preservation.
I carried her downstairs and started a hot bath. I took her temperature as she smiled sleepily up at me. Nothing. I stripped her down and plopped her in the tub. She splashed and played while Dano started her bedding in the washer. I wrapped her up in a towel and got her in warm pajamas. Dano fetched her some diluted juice. She kept saying, "I'm hungry, Mama!" I wasn't comfortable enough to give her anything but fluids. We put her in bed with us and Dano brought her a host of stuffed animals at her request. Her bear, frog, penguin, and worm all flocked to her side as she watched Aladdin and snuggled with me. Her bedding was clean and dry by the time the movie was over at 5AM. She had since decided it was playtime and was bounding all over the bed. Any subsequent attempts to snuggle were met with impatient wriggles and, "Bye, see ya!" In talking it over with Dano, we realized that she had eaten mac and cheese for lunch and a grilled cheese for dinner. Though she normally tolerates small amounts of cheese, this was too much for our lactose intolerant little daughter. We tucked her back in her bed and she slept until her normal wake up time - 8AM.
I went through Tuesday like a robot. I snatched sleep when I could in 20 minute intervals here and there. She went to sleep at 9 Tuesday night. By then I was so wired on iced Sidamo that Dano fell asleep at 11 and I stayed up until 1AM. Still very much awake, I decided to try getting into bed to coax tiredness. I sneaked once again into Lilah's room to make sure she hadn't randomly thrown up again. No vomit. However, she did sit straight up, look at me, and start shrieking at the top of her tiny lungs. Normally if she cries at night, we put her in bed with us until she calms down, after which she goes back in her crib for the night with no complaints. However, for whatever reason on this particular Tuesday night, she chose to break routine.
Dano put her back in bed. She screamed like she was being stabbed. I got her out and plopped her in bed with me. She played and giggled. This back and forth went on until 4:30. Finally I told Dano (who was about delirious and had class at 9AM) to let her cry a few minutes. After 10 minutes of alternating between sobbing pitifully and ear piercing shrieking, I started crying. I was beyond exhausted, and I firmly believe in not letting small children cry. At 2, if she was crying this long and hard, we had to be missing something. I felt helpless and upset. Crying was all I could do. I had nothing left. Dano lost his temper and went in there. "Stop it right this minute, Lilah Rose. Just stop it. You're making your mama cry." She cried even harder, and I couldn't do it anymore. I got out of bed without grabbing my glasses or sweater or anything. I just had on a thin t shirt and pants. I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I took her from Dano and she clung to my neck. She stopped crying instantly but still sobbed raggedly into my neck. Dano left to cool down. I was crying in Lilah's place. I held her and said, "Lilah, you have to sleep. Mama and Daddy have to sleep. You have to calm down and stop crying." She held me tighter and said, "Want Mama." I laid her down in her crib and she started screaming again. I sat next to her crib and put one hand on her chest and one on her head to stroke her hair. It took a few minutes before she would stop crying and saying, "C'mere". She just stared at me and hiccuped, convinced I was leaving. I was shivering from cold and emotions and exhaustion. I felt void and helpless. Eyes closed, I whispered, "Please, Ada." (my silly, childish name for God. It means Daddy.)
Something odd happened at that point. I felt something inside me, be it spirit or soul or what have you, rally all the remaining sanity and energy I had. I was a powerful woman who had created the tiny, distraught life in the crib in front of me. She feeds off my emotion constantly, and I was going to fill her with good ones. I had to transfer my energy to her. With a hand on her head and a hand on her heart, I closed my eyes and meditated.
Peace. Peace to my child. Calm mind, tranquil dreams, still waters, and serenity. Security, warmth, love, and all good feelings. Contentedness. Stillness. Quiet thoughts. Quiet heart. Freedom from worry and fear. Peace.
I willed all my warmth - physical and emotional - into my baby as her eyes drifted closed. I felt a shift, a transfer. I felt my benediction for my daughter trickle down like water over her, like the sound of rain. I felt a different kind of exhaustion. The kind that felt as if my spirit had wrapped its velvet wings around my daughter and encompassed her with all of my good thoughts and love. On a night where I had literally nothing left to give, I had the ability as a woman, a mother, and a healer to calm and comfort and protect. It rose up inside me from a place I didn't know existed before I conceived my daughter. It was a well of power and sacrement. I stayed with her until the birds started singing to greet the day and the sunlight was just starting to touch the edges of the night sky. Somewhere unbidden from the back of my depleted mind, this passage rose to the surface.
In the beginning, Gods created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the spirits of Gods were hovering over the waters.
Then Gods said, "Let us make man in our image, in our likeness.
So Gods created man in their own image.
In the image of Gods, they created him.
Male and female, they created them.
Gods saw all they had made, and it was very good. And there was evening, and there was morning - the 6th day.
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