One of those Mornings...

Remember how I mentioned in my last post that sometimes I have bad days? And, sometimes the kids have bad days? Well, I just sat down with my first cup of coffee and it seems as though an entire “bad day” has already taken place. 

I want to preface the morning with a description of my mood. 

I have been fighting a stomach bug of some sort for a while now. I think I may have gotten whatever tummy stuff is going around; but, my body is doing an okay job of fighting it. I’m avoiding the vomiting, but got all the other fun stuff a sickness brings. I am also particularly moody this week, if ya know what I mean (today is day 3). And, I have been having a hard time adjusting to a regular sleep schedule again; this means that I hit snooze a total of….six times this morning. Overall, I’m a freaking peach. 

The kids were fairly cooperative at least. They got out of bed and got dressed at a decent pace. Olive did wander around, sleepy-eyed, wrapped in a blanket much longer than I would have preferred, asking, “What do I wear?” (as she stood right next to the clothes I had laid out for her). But, it wasn’t much of an irregular morning at that point.

Then, I felt a sharp pain in my stomach that doubled me over. I realized that I should probably not go to my MOPS meeting scheduled for this morning. I wanted to go. But, I get livid when people knowingly share their germs/sickness with others. And, I have another Christmas this weekend; so, I’m trying to get better and stay as healthy as possible. The idea of missing the meeting bummed me out. We only get to go to meetings once a month and I truly enjoy them.

I continued on.

It didn’t take long before I noticed that Olive had a sore of some type between her nose and mouth. I don’t get cold sores (knock-on-wood); so, I wasn’t sure if that was all it was or not. I decided to ask her about it.

“Did you scratch your face?”

“I don’t know.”

“Does this hurt?”

“What?”

“You have a sore on your face. Do you know anything about it?”

“Momma, don’t touch it.”

So, things were going well. I was gathering a lot of helpful information.

I began a short, but civil lecture about washing hands and touching faces, etc. I then told her to wash her hands with soap and water. It turned out to be an impossible task, which was easier to lie about than actually do. After a bit of back-and-forth, I finally got her to wash her hands – I’m a horrid mother, I know. I then wet a wash cloth with the intention of cleaning her face.

This was at about 7:35 AM, everybody. So, if you heard the blood curdling screams, that was coming from our house.

You would have thought that I wiped her face with sand paper. So, after the one wipe, I left the scene to throw the washcloth into the laundry room. Walking back past Olive, I just turned my head and threw my hands in the air.

I made my way to the kitchen, meeting the blank stares of the other two kids. They were sitting at the island, eating their breakfast. That is when I made the grand statement of how stupid the situation was – one of my prouder moments of the morning. I then started rummaging through our “pain reliever” container, looking for some triple antibiotic. Olive appeared at my side, and quickly realized what I was doing. She started pleading, “Momma, no!”

Over her yelling, I tried to explain that it wasn’t a painful medicine. But, just her luck, I couldn’t find it. I let out a huff and put the container back in the cabinet. While there, I saw the dogs’ Heartguard that I was supposed to give them yesterday – oops. To remember, I took the box out and threw it on the counter. That act was enough to send Olive over the edge. She collapsed on the floor and started to wail.

This was when I made the second “this whole thing is so stupid” declaration of the day. 

After getting Olive composed and cleaned up, I threw a snack cake at her and begged everyone to load up. We were now running late.

Six out of the eight blocks to school were filled with my huffs and statements of anger. Literally, I just repeated, “Ugh. I’m so mad.” - switching out the “ughs” for sighs or huffs, and switching out “mad” for “angry” or “frustrated,” whichever synonym came to mind. 

I don’t know why I do it. I guess it is part to make me feel better and part to ‘bring Olive to the realization that her behavior is irrational and unwarranted, making us all a bit grumpier and late this morning, when all I was trying to do was help her and keep her healthy.’ You know, as one could infer…

It was on block seven that I realized that we didn’t have Henry’s winter coat, just a light fleece. He didn’t even have gloves or a stocking cap. As I whirled around to look for it on the floor of the car, I almost clipped another car who was turning onto my street. I immediately mouthed, “Sorry!” to the other driver. I think I knew her too…dammit.

The coat is not there and I was well on my way to ‘Mother of the Year.’

I finally pulled up to the curb. The kids barreled out. And, I yelled, “I love you!” in their general direction, as they ran up the sidewalk. I watched until they were safely inside.

I then closed the van door, locking in the silence of my solitude. I took a deep breath.

“What in the hell…” I whispered to myself.

Now, on with the day…

21 Week Update

Here we are again, outdoors, with a head! :) The bump is getting kind of crazy and out of control!

How far along?
I am 21 weeks and 4 days (129 days left)

Baby is the size of...
or rather, the length of...a carrot. She is 10.5 inches from head to toe and 3/4 of a pound. Although, I have a feeling that Olive is probably closer to a full pound, considering her weight three weeks ago! :)

Symptoms:
The last few days have been getting rough. I was feeling pretty good; but, I carried Lucy quite a bit this weekend, sat on some gym bleachers a couple of hours, and squatted to give our chihuahua a hair cut. It really did a number on my muscles! I was and still am sore from it all. My back and shoulders are so tight. I think my husband should massage them! :)  I have to give him credit, he has a little bit...

The one thing that I am not really supposed to talk about (bowel movements) are completely irregular and annoying. But, to save you all, that is all I will say. Annoying!

I am starting to have a tough time sleeping again. I wake up a lot and dream constantly. I sleep, but don't really feel rested. So, I am feeling really tired lately. The smallest activity, like walking around Target for an hour, just about lays me out. Aww, I'm making myself tired. Let's move on...

Anything New?
The name is the same. I haven't gone to the doctor again. The belly is just getting a lot bigger! She is moving quite a bit more, or I am just feeling it more. Unlike Lucy, who used to kick and punch mostly up by my ribs, Olive's kicks are all downward. She hits my bladder like crazy and I am not as confident about my bladder control as I was with Lucy! :{ Constipation, then diarrhea, possible incontinence...get back boys! I know I'm a catch, but I'm taken!

New with Heath?
This last weekend, since I didn't feel well, he spoiled me pretty bad. I appreciate it a lot. I was just out of it and still am a little bit. I am so thankful that he takes care of Lucy and me. He is a great daddy and husband. Thank goodness for me!

He has really started to talk about Olive. He talks to Lucy about her and talks to me about our future, all while referring to her as "Olive." It helps us to better realize that a fourth family member is on the way! It gets kind of hard to believe at times. Although I am absolutely positive nothing can prepare you for having a newborn baby! And, in our case, adding another one to the family, while also having a 2 1/2 year old!

We continue to think about what we need to buy and what we need to do. It isn't as overwhelming this time, however, we probably need to get on it! I've been nesting a lot, but mostly in other rooms of the house. The nursery needs some TLC, since Lucy moved out.

New with Lucy?
Although she still occasionally gets out of bed at night, I would say that we have successfully made the transition to her big girl room. She doesn't really talk about the crib or her old room at all. And.....we have been binkie-free for over 72 hours!! Small victory in our house! :)

I'd love to say that we did some type of ceremonial goodbye to the binkie, or "mailed them" to her baby friends. But, we didn't. She got in trouble Friday night and we took it away. And, well, we decided since we were on a roll, we should continue with it. When she asks for it, we just say, "No binkie. Sorry honey." Surprisingly, her response so far has been, "Okay..." - of course it is in a whiny tone.

Now we need to move on to our third feat - potty training. More about that some other time...

Anything else?
I was recently approached with this question, "You aren't seriously naming your baby Olive are you?"

I expected it from the person it came from. I tried to be cordial, "Yeah. I know it isn't very popular." She continued to make disgusted faces, while ridiculing the name. I just smiled, in the bitchiest way I could possibly come up with, and nodded. She ended her rant by saying, "I just worry about other kids making fun of her."

Ohh...I see. She was telling me the name Olive was horrible, as a favor! Silly me! "I told her that I didn't think there was anything to make fun of and to be honest, "if she is a good person, then I don't care."  Her response was, "Yeah, I guess. Was Olive Oil one of your favorite cartoons growing up?"

It wasn't, but oh my gosh! God forbid that children call her "Olive Oil." That would just be the absolute worst! Riiiiight...they won't even know what Popeye is in that generation.

Finally, I just said, "Yeah, many of my family members don't like it too much, but they are too polite to say anything." I was hoping that would shut her up.

Fun times!  I still love the name and no one is going to convince me otherwise. I just have no use for rude people. Get a clue....what a way to start the week! I hope the rest of it goes better!

"It hurt."

This is Lucy's arm. I bet you will never guess what happened there...

 - My Office telephone rings -

Blah, Blah, Blah, "This is Cori."

"Cori, this is K at DayCare." (That always makes me nervous!)

"Oh, hello!" I say all coy and stuff.

"I just wanted to call you and let you know that Lucy got bit today."

I admit; my first thought was, "by what?" But, it dawned on me quickly as I muttered, "Ohh..."

K continued, "We have a biter [in DayCare]. I put a cold cloth on it; but, it didn't break the skin. She just may have a bruise in the next couple of days."

I didn't really know what to say. I don't really remember where the conversation even went after that. We discussed Lucy's own demeanor and apparently she is a "pusher." To which Heath and I both agreed, if she shoved the girl after she was bit, then good for her! I certainly hope she sticks up for herself. :{

I just imagine poor Lucy staring at the girl in confusion, while she bit her arm. Then, slowly starting a silent, gasping cry. :( Poor girl. But, for the rest of the day, I tried to put it out of my mind. I mean, what was I going to do? say?

I know one thing, I wanted to know who did it. K didn't indicate who had. I knew that I would hold a personal grudge on said child...it was killing me.  I figured if I asked Lucy, she would tell me.

When I picked Lucy up at DayCare, I immediately went to her arms. I saw the same red, teeth shaped mark as you did above, with a little bit of swelling too. I said, "Well, someone small bit you." Lucy looked at me with a concerned face and said the name. I didn't understand her at first, until the other DayCare ladies told me who it was. Then, the name became clear to me. Ahhh....it was another little girl, just a bit older than Lucy. The ladies went on to tell me that the little girl bit two other kids that day too. I thought, hopefully her parents have been given some type of warning or something. That is a little out of hand! Three times? Three different children? That is a serious behavior issue.

All night, every time we said "arm" or "hurt." Lucy would say, "[So-and-So] bite me. It hurt."

It was pretty sad. These are the hardest parts of having a child in DayCare. I just want to protect Lucy every second of the day, at least until she's...um, let's say...18...haha. Or better yet, forever!

There really isn't much I can do. I know that the Director was concerned and knew that I'm the psycho mommy that she might want to call and warn. I guess that is kind of nice to know. I just hope Lucy doesn't start biting people now!

"Rough"

Sorry I haven't been around lately. I've been really busy again and really stressed out. Going to work after the holidays sucks - plain and simple.

Anyway, we have been getting back into the routine of things. Yesterday, I picked Lucy up from DayCare to experience another DayCare milestone. Wanna hear about it? It doesn't matter; because, I'm going to tell you anyway. It was far too frustrating.

I walk in to see Lucy dressed up in a cute little outfit. The provider and I start to talk about the outfit as I pull out my phone and snap a picture.

With a poofy hat on, I didn't notice anything different with Lucy. So, I peeled the clothing and headed to grab her coat. While getting Lucy ready to leave, the provider says, "Lucy has another little bruise on her forehead."

I brushed Lucy's bangs out of the way and see that she has a bruise right above her eyebrow; it still looked kind of red and a little swollen. My first thought is: "typical Lucy." She is constantly bumping her head on things. It happens at home all the time.

I waited to hear how she fell or ran into the doorway. Nope. The, the provider started to say something else. This time, she was choosing her word wisely. I could tell by all the stammering.

"She...well, they were...um, they...well,...they were being a little rough with her today."

My first thought was, "Who is they?"

My raised eyebrow of complete un-impressiveness must have made her continue on with her detail-lacking story.

"A lot of kids were in time-out today."

Okay...

While I finished buttoning up Lucy's coat and put her stocking cap on her, my mind was in a whirl. I could feel my face get hot with anger as I scanned the children in the room. Him...yep. I bet it was him. Or, maybe him.

At that moment two older children started to argue over some toys. One was maybe 6 or 7, definitely elementary school aged, and the other was 5. The five year old had walked up and snatched away the older child's toys. The older kid took them back. The five year old started whining. 

"Uhhhh......huh...huh...huh.....oooooo..."

I mean whiny-whining. Like, I wanted to put Lucy down, go over to him, grab him by the shoulders, tell him that he was 5 years old and to act like it...

I needed to exit and quickly.  

That probably sounds really awful to some of you children lovers out there. Sorry. I think I've addressed my total annoyance with misbehaved children.

I grabbed Lucy's bag, snarled at the children, held back something snarky to say, and muttered a "Bye."

As I walked across the parking lot I thought more and more about it. It really bugged me. I imagined poor little Lucy getting picked on. I looked at her and told her that I was sorry. I wished I could have been there for her. Violence is not the answer; but, at that moment, I hoped that she got a hit in too. I hoped that she did something really awful to them, like broke their toy or spit on them at lunch...something to at least make up for the hitting.

I wanted to ask DayCare who did it. Which kid? But, that would only end up with me strongly disliking the child....for, possibly, ever.

Now, I realize that those thoughts are irrational and unforgiving, especially for children. So, I apologize.

I just don't want Lucy to ever be picked on. I want to always be there for her, especially when she is too young to stick up for herself.

I immediately called Heath and vented. Why was she with those bigger children anyway? There wasn't a fight leading up to said bruise? Should we ask exactly what happened?

To be honest, maybe I shouldn't know. Again, maybe ignorance really is bliss. :[

Traveling Heart

I'm sure you've noticed; I'm in a funk.

Not a good funk, like The Commodores. A bad funk. My head is in the clouds. My brain is in a fog. My mind is...well, you get the idea.

A piece of my heart has traveled to Texas. And, I'm having a pretty rough time with it.

As most of you know, my dad recently got married and decided to move to Texas. Family, and specifically my dad, is very important to me. I'm sure you've realized my emphasis on family throughout the last year of posts. To add to the problem, I'm not that big on change. Sorry Obama.

When my dad decided to move, I was angry. I consistently fought my sarcastic, surly side; I wanted to say something hurtful or smart alecky. I knew that saying something mean wouldn't make him stay; but, perhaps it would remain in his mind forever. And, that is the reason I held a lot back. I didn't want him to have another reason to leave, like me being mean.

I didn't just hold the anger back. I held the sadness back. It's a common trait among my family members. We're not big on giving into painful emotion. It's much easier to pretend those feelings don't exist. Unhealthy? Absolutely. I have tried to work on it though. My psychology degree forces me to.

The day my dad left, I cried; however, I refused to let it sink in. He's not really moving. He'll be back soon. This is all temporary. My heart and my brain were in constant battle that day, trying to allow the truth in, while avoiding the emotion.

The first week he was gone, I did alright. We had gone a week without seeing each other; so, it was easy to pretend. The second week, it started to really set in. Things I normally held on to, to show him or to tell him about, I realized I would have to do over the telephone or Skype. He wouldn't be stopping by again after work.

Look at me. I talk like someone passed away, right? Whoa is me. But, it seriously is a big deal to me.

I was already feeling down about my dad leaving, then September 11th came and I watched all the horrible coverage, things that I tried to avoid and forget years ago, and then, my brother-in-law got into a terrible accident.  It was all a bit too much for my emotion.

I slowly fell into a funk - a deep, sad, funk.

We had a good weekend and somehow, today, I feel uplifted. I am not even sure why. I just am. Perhaps it's a turning point for me. Let's cross our fingers.

With the, hopefully steep, incline of my mood, there should be some more blog posts. Perhaps it's fall quickly approaching (heck - it might already be here!), that has me smiling. The leaves are falling, the windows are open, and I'm listening to the sweet sounds of football fans and broadcasters. Halloween is near. I have lots of plans for the next month and I'll be sure to share them all with you.

Sorry about the funk. And, I promise to get back with it soon. I will also include the final videos of my running challenge - like I've promised.

Happy September 19th! Smile everyone. It only gets better.

Ignorance Really is Bliss

Lucy got run over by a plastic car.

Yep. You read correctly. I watched as Lucy was smashed by a plastic, toy car.

 Let me explain.

As you may already know, I was Banned from DayCare; therefore, I can't go visit Lucy over my lunch hour anymore (which results in more blog posts - yay?). It was pretty difficult at first; but, Heath and I were beginning to manage pretty well. It was getting easier. But now...the children are going out to the playground during our lunch hour. We can hear them outside playing.

What's the harm in peeking out the window? None. Right?

Wrong.

The window in my office looks directly over the daycare playground. Heath is the one who first looked out and called me over.

"Cori - come look. She is walking around."

Of course I took off running for the window. She was so cute, just walking around in the grass, all wobbly. We were kind of surprised that she was unaccompanied. She was just going about her own business. We would never leave her to herself in our back yard. She'd be eating grass or rocks, or something!

She was walking along the sidewalk while the bigger children played on tricycles and big-wheelers. A few even had those plastic cars - you know, the red ones, with the yellow surround? They were some like those. One kid was pushing a car down the side walk. It was like slow motion.

Lucy was standing at a sidewalk intersection, not even looking at the bigger kid charging her way. My heart was begging for Lucy to move.

Lucy turned and bam. The bigger kid hit her with the car, pretty hard I might add. It knocked her down, flat to her belly, her head only about an inch from hitting the cement, as the kid continued to push the car over top of her.

My baby girl just laid there on the sidewalk with a plastic car over half of her body.

I was instantly...pissed.

I wanted to just go running to her rescue and to scold the older child for being so mean and careless. But, I was two floors up, watching helplessly. I waited...

She didn't cry. Whew...once the kid finally realized that Lucy was too big of a speed bump and backed up, she got up. She gave him a dirty look, which I enjoyed. I was so proud that she didn't cry and was very relieved that she wasn't hurt.

Now, where in the H-E-double-hockey-sticks were the daycare people?

Oh, out of all THREE of them out there, one was with the younger babies, in the stroller (rightfully so). The other two? Talking. Talking? Yep - just chattin' it up on the other side of the playground. There weren't even any children in their view! One had a cellphone in her hand too. She wasn't using it; but, I was still annoyed.

The entire thing happened and no one saw it - but, the second floor window parents (us!).

I knew then that an awkward, passive-aggressive conversation would soon be taking place between me and the director. I wondered how I would explain what happened without being a psycho, protective mommy. I mean, the director wasn't even there at the time.  However, I have to say something. If I achieve nothing else, I just want them to know that we could be watching, always.

If they want to ignore children (which they shouldn't be), at least they will know that they should always be watching Lucy. Her momma's a bit on the crazy side.

After discussion with, the also infuriated, Heath, we decided that perhaps it is better not to watch. Ignorance really just might be bliss...

Oh, who am I kidding? Now, I'm going to be at that window like a hawk!