The Things No One Tells You About (Motherhood)

I was listening to a song not too long ago about someone's daughter and how she grows up too quickly. And it's true. But no one ever told me that would happen. This nostalgia has been weighing on my mind and heart a lot these past few months.

When I was pregnant with my first child, no one ever told me to enjoy having a miracle grow inside my belly. They only wanted to talk about all the complaints I had about being pregnant. When I was pregnant again shortly after the first, I didn't even have time to enjoy it if I wanted to. All I wanted to do was be able to bend over to pick up my very active toddler. No one told me that I might never be pregnant again. No one told me to be thankful for that little miracle and the bond we shared for nine months.

I have been focused a lot with my eldest child as he has special needs. And while I don't neglect my second-born, I know she doesn't need me nearly as much. She has just turned 4 and might as well be going on 18! It breaks my heart. I feel as if, on some level, my son will always need me in some capacity. But my daughter, well, she'd just rather do it herself. I love that about her. It also leaves me watching mostly from the sidelines. I wish I could go back in time and take a picture of all the memories I hurried to get through, since no one told me I would one day regret moving so fast to get there.

I remember waiting for her to talk then at five months she surprises us with "mama." No one told me I would miss her babbling and blowing spit bubbles. I remember wondering if she would ever stop nursing only to have her wake up one day at 11months and shake her head at me when I offered my milk. I know no one told me that I would miss diaper changes. But after she potty trained herself around 18months, the games we played on the changing table stopped, too. No one told me not to wish for her to finally start walking because that would mean I would have no reason to cradle her in my arms. No one told me I would miss those sweet moments.

And so I created this incredibly independent, spirited, and astoundingly intelligent young lady. I couldn't be prouder of her. But in doing so, I also hit fast forward past all the moments that make having a baby so precious.

I now have a pre-pre teen. She dresses herself, does her own hair. She tells me what kind of toys she wants me to buy, she plans her own menu for lunch, and she even back-seat drives while in the car with me. ("Mommy, yellow means slow down," "Mommy, you're going too fast," "This isn't the way to our house. Are you going the right way,") She doesn't want play dates with me she wants play dates with her friends. In fact, this weekend she taught herself how to swing. No one told me I would miss that.

While I regret all that I let slip away so quickly, I am grateful for the little girl she has become. She is respectful but can speak her mind. She won't let anyone walk all over her or her brother. She is such a loving and compassionate person. She knows what she wants and how to get it. She's only 4! Imagine what she will be like as an adult. She will make a wonderful mother but she will also be a smart businesswoman. It makes me sad that my baby isn't so much a baby anymore. And it makes me sad that she has the personality of, well, me; sarcasm included! But she is a good girl. She is kind and sweet and generous and she impresses me everyday. And she is all mine. I am so lucky!

And if all I get to do is watch from the sidelines then so be it. That will give me more time to brag about MY baby girl.

 

My Sweet Petunia

Kindergarten

I'm one of "those moms." I take 4,000 pictures of my kids whether there is an accomplishment involved or not (although, there is even more pictures if there is). Kindergarten, to me, is one of those accomplishments. It is a right of passage one takes in order to be considered a kid instead of a toddler. But be warned though; you can never go back.

 

I remember my first day of kindergarten. I had never been in school and I could not fathom why my mother would send me away for 6 hours a day (while juggling a work-from-home-job, other siblings and chores; don't worry mom, I get it now!) I remember being scared, kind of excited but mostly just counting down the time until I could go home. As an adult, I realize now why I went but most importantly, what my mother must have been going through on that dreadful first day.

Then I multiplied that feeling by, oh, say, 5 million and that's what I went through today as my first born walked into his kindergarten class.

I feel that as a mother of a child who has special needs, all my emotions are felt tenfold. With the kindergarten meeting not going well a few months ago, the anxiety I felt was warranted.

 

Would he cry?

Would he be upset after I leave?

Would he get the love and attention he needs?

Would he lash out at the teacher or his friends?

Will he not understand what is going on and wonder where I am all day?

 

Among the normal feelings during this transition, I felt guilt. This is the part about being a mother that nobody tells you about. He's been in preschool with me his whole life. I've never been more than a few doors down. If he needed me, I came running. Even a few months ago we switched pre-k from my school to his current school but that didn't bother me.

 

Today, the lesson I learned was why you never hear people tell stories of those bad memories. It's because everything works out in the end. So that all you're left with is the memories of how well it all turned out.

Ready for his first day of school

My son has anxiety when it comes to people and places he is not familiar with. There was a TON of people at the school during drop off time which usually only agitates him more. But he took it like a champ! He walked into his class, sat down at his desk and got to work. I was so proud of him that the word 'proud' doesn't even do justice to what I was feeling. It was an answered prayer (yes, literally!). The best part, the part that will stay with me forever was when I told him it was time for mommy and daddy to leave, he smiled real big at me and said, "Bye, mommy!"

My big boy.
That was the moment I lost all hope of keeping it together. My eyes instantly filled with tears. I would never forgive myself if I hindered his already amazing progress with my emotional outburst so I immediately hugged and kissed him like he was going off to war and fled the room like it was on fire.
My baby was in kindergarten.

We get out the door and I just let it all out. My husband asks me if I'm ok (as I'm pretty sure I am scaring him). And I shouted "NO!"

I wasn't OK. But my son is.

That's all that matters. I will gladly worry about him so that he won't have to.

Which is precisely what I did all day.

 

As I waited for him to get off the bus, that small moment of panic popped up again.

 

What if he had a horrible day?

What if he hates it there?

What if he's being crying all day for me?

What if...

...What if he had a great day and I didn't need to worry?

 

So, what if I'm that mom? Big deal that I take a thousand pictures of one single event. I will forever have those memories. I will forever be able to look back on all that my son has accomplished. I will be able to share those special moments...

 

because everything worked out in the end :)

 

Me and my kindergartener

 

Oh, The Places He'll Go

Not long after my son, Ethan, was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder, we started hearing a lot about the struggles he would have growing up. There was even a doctor (I use that term loosely) who told me that Ethan's behaviors were so bad, he would struggle through Kindergarten, if he would make it through at all.

Quickly following news of all his limitations we noticed that people; fellow parents, children, people without children (my personal favorite), became quick to judge. They each look at him differently. Expressions range from pity to curiosity to dislike. People look at us as parents and judge us, too. They don't take the time to look at the struggle we are persevering through as a family.

 

This morning the director at Ethan's preschool pulled me aside and asked me why my son was attending his preschool graduation. Normally, he goes to public school in the ESE program during the morning then goes to the preschool in the afternoons. But he has attended this preschool since birth and I felt like he and I have earned this special right of passage and therefore should be in attendance. She said that he doesn't really go to school here so she assumed he wasn't coming. (And I think we all know what happens when we assume..) I told her that he was a student enrolled in the preschool like everyone else and I assumed he would attend. She told me I should have asked her first. I said no and again explained that he was enrolled at the school like everyone else and should get to attend. What she failed to realize, what I can see very clearly, is that she somehow made this about her and it's not. It's about Ethan. It is about how far he has come in the last few years. From screaming and crying while throwing fits on the floor to using his words and reaching those goals that people assumed he wouldn't reach. His hard work, nearly 14 months of Occupational Therapy to get him ready for Kindergarten, and now he finally has something to show for it. And she tried to take that away from him all because she is embarrassed by his behavior. The fidgeting, pacing, teeth grinding, talking out of turn doesn't fit into her perfect little world. I feel sorry for her. All those things are part of what makes Ethan the wonderful, caring and fun little boy that he was made to be and she's missing it. People are missing opportunities to get to know someone so wonderful simply because they don't understand him. It is truly saddening that there are people in this world that will never privilege themselves with a chance to know a kid like Ethan. 

 

Then while Ethan attended his Kindergarten Orientation, I watched the uneasiness settle in and felt the worry creep into my bones. When they called all the students to go to the classrooms with the teachers, the anxiety started, as it usually does. With tears shimmering in his worried, blue eyes he whispered a simple plea, "Mommy, come with me" and it broke my heart in two. Ethan was the only kid in the group who was crying.
I watched him cry as he was asked to walk away from us and go with someone he has never seen before to a place he has never been. It was then that I noticed people staring, judging. I sat worrying what this new chapter in his life will bring. Will he regress? Will he hate me for making him do this? (I felt my own tears forming in my eyes..) Can he do this? Will he make it without me? (I felt my throat start to burn with unshed tears..) 
 

A half hour later, we went to pick Ethan up from his Kindergarten class. He was sitting in a group, still upset but relatively quiet, not screaming or throwing a fit with a Special Ed teacher sitting close by talking him down when he got anxious. No, he wasn't adjusted like the other kids but he was adjusting. At his own pace, sure, but he was doing it. And I couldn't have been prouder! It was then that I realized that my son is "Special Needs." Ever since his diagnosis, I have struggled with him fitting in like a typical child. But that's not who he is. And today I realized that I don't want him to be like that either. He needs an extra hug, or an extra moment to calm down. He needs help staying focused and he's going to need help until he can help himself. And it's OK that he has those 'special needs.' It is people like the Special Ed lady who helped him today, help moms like me realize that yes, he is always going to be a little different but never, NEVER less than anyone else. And no one can make him or us feel that way unless we let them. He can do this! He will make it through this like all the other challenges before. He will never cease to amaze me.

As a parent to a child with special needs, you can't help but worry. For me, I know Ethan's potential, his strengths and weaknesses, what he needs help with, what he pretends to need help with. But most importantly, I know what he is capable of and as much as I do worry, I know he will persevere. He is so strong and courageous; a true fighter. What this lesson has taught me is to let him be brave and fight his own battles. He can do or be anything he wants. But through it all, I will make sure he knows that mommy will always be right beside him, ready to fight, laugh or cry right along with him.

No matter what.

My Little Graduate



Why I Think Superman Has Autism

Just hear me out.

I'm sure you are all familiar with this superhero. Whether you've read the comics, seen the movies, have the action figure or play the video games, you know who I'm talking about.

Autism awareness, unfortunately, is not nearly as prominent. According to the Merriam-Webster online dictionary, Autism is defined as "a developmental disorder that is characterized by impairment of the ability to form normal social relationships..and by stereotyped behavior patterns."

Symptoms of autism are different for each individual. However, there are some symptoms that can be very common such as sensitivity to light, sound or touch and repetitive behaviors.

Have you ever noticed that our Caped-Crusader can hear EVERYTHING? Even the slightest whisper can catch his attention or distract him from his current task.
And don't even let him near Kryptonite. Even being around that stuff will cause him to freak out. In fact, he won't even touch it because he knows it will cause a tantrum.
Also, can't we all agree he is the King of repetitive behavior? Find someone in trouble, fight bad-guys, save someone in trouble. Over and over and over again he will do this and never seems to tire of it. (Sure, he varies it a little but I think that's more for our benefit than his.) Let's face it, he parades around in a costume all day and doesn't feel any different for it. If that isn't someone who colors their own world than I don't know what is!
My 4 year old son, Ethan, has autism and I've noticed some things about him, too.
He is so kind-hearted and always knows right from wrong. When he can, he will always help those in trouble. He is smart and courageous. Oh, and on more than one occasion, I have even caught him wearing a cape. Is this starting to sound like anyone you know?


He told me "I have to go help people!"



Now, I'm not saying that Superman definitely has autism. It's just a theory. I'm also not saying Ethan is a superhero. But to me, he is. 

What I am saying, is that no one has ever seen both of them in the same room together...



My Thursday

So I started my Thursday by finding out that a department store bill that was due and paid yesterday, was slapped with a $25 late fee. Someone please explain to me, how a late fee can be applied before it is even late! And yes, I even paid it before the time cutoff and have the email confirmation to prove it. Now normally, I'm quite the spokesperson for this store. They usually have great customer service, sales, and returns are a breeze. However, this angered me so much that if they didn't take the fee off, I was willing to close my account with them. In the end they did. But the guy I talked to made it sound like he was doing me a favor! I'm thinking, "Buddy, you don't even know.."

My Thursday ended with what I thought would be a quick trip to the eye doctor to check my contacts and to pick up my new pair of eye glasses. I was there for an hour and fifteen minutes. The appointment itself took all of maybe five minutes. They spent the remaining time trying to figure out where my glasses were. They LOST my glasses! Mind you, I spent the extra money to have them shipped in 1-4 business days they told me. That was over 8 days ago. Finally, they had to call the place that makes the glasses and had them redo my glasses and ship them overnight. Oh, did I mention I need them by Saturday?
I think I will go to bed early tonight so nothing else can stress me out..

The Long Road to Autism

My Son, Ethan. He is a fun, empathetic and well mannered little boy. He loves fiercely. He laughs about almost anything. And he is so very smart. He's also absolutely adorable!

Very recently Ethan, my oldest child, was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder. I find myself looking back on how we got to this point in our lives without knowing there was something wrong. After a few minutes of contemplating this; it finally came to me.

I knew all along.

I'm sure every parent initially turns to denial when faced with something traumatic. But I knew. And I am ashamed to say that I tried to pretend it wasn't true. I wanted it not to be true for his sake. There isn't anything I wouldn't do to take away any pain or suffering from either one of my kids. To know that this disorder could hinder him physically, emotionally and developmentally makes me hurt for him. But he is so much stronger than me. For the first time, in his four years, I am following his lead. And I couldn't be prouder!

While I had my suspicions, I didn't understand what was happening to him. And I didn't WANT there to be anything wrong with him. Thinking back, I remember when he was just four months old and was already fidgeting and tensing his body in ways 'normal' babies do not. He was such a great baby that I put those worries in the back of my mind. As a toddler, all (and I do mean ALL) he wanted to do was spin toys or watch things that spin. At 2, the emotions inside him were, at times, so uncontrollable, that I cried along with him. I thought it was "terrible two's" and tucked those emotions away, too. At 3, his aversions to touch or being touched, sounds, lights, and strange people or places made us avoid going out of the house unless we needed to. And I would always anticipate the fit that was almost always sure to follow such an adventure. That's when I finally accepted that something wasn't right and I talked to our pediatrician. Even his pediatrician was convinced that he didn't have Autism. She said it might be ADD or ADHD but not Autism.

We first had Ethan evaluated by an Occupational Therapist. After he was diagnosed with Sensory Processing Disorder by the OT, (which is very often associated with Autism) our pediatrician still said no. We found out that Ethan had visual processing and fine motor delays that were significant enough to warrant OT twice a week. Within 6 weeks, it was as if he was getting better. He changed in those few weeks, matured even. I thought we were out of the woods. But even though they appeared less frequently, deep down I could tell Ethan was still struggling with the same issues. Being the person I am, I demanded a referral for a full psychiatric evaluation from my pediatrician. If there is something wrong with my child, if he needed help, then I wanted him to have it. It was then that I accepted in my heart that he would be diagnosed with Autism. Several thousand dollars, one evaluation and a diagnosis later; we knew. We knew what I had known all along. Except now I have a new purpose. I have to be the advocate for him that I wasn't before. I am on a mission now. A mission to get Ethan the help that he needed years ago.

This describes it best.

For many days after his diagnosis, I contemplated how we were going to tell people. Those close to Ethan knew of his struggles but like any parent or loved one, you don't want there to be anything wrong with your child or someone you love. I was working on keeping it together myself. I knew what I have always known in my heart but how do you tell someone that doesn't understand. Afterwards, I finally just decided to tell people the truth. When I told people, there were a lot of hugs, a few "I'm so sorry's," even some 'ignorance is bliss.' I couldn't help but think why is everyone so upset? If its one thing I learned from all of this its that Ethan is stronger than we ever gave him credit for. He made it through all this, too. He is my little superhero.

And he is still the same sweet, smart and caring little boy he always was. Now, he just also happens to have Autism. Don't you worry though, Ethan is going to be just fine. He's got me. And Mommy will be there for him every step of the way. We'll get through this together, Baby Boy.

Me and my Little Monkey

How Do You Know?

Why does parenting have to be so hard?
 In my youth, I never once thought I would be uttering phrases like "We do not pee on our sister!' or "Stop licking the bottom of your shoe!" But when those moments arise, all you want to do as a parent is laugh. But you can only laugh for so long until you realize you actually have to stop one kid from peeing on the other kid. And then, of course, they have both seen you laugh so now they think its funny to pee on each other..*deep breaths*..
 But I want them to enjoy childhood. I want them to be able to laugh with us and each other. I want them to learn not to be afraid to try something new or meet new people. But how do you teach "We don't talk to strangers" and at the same time encourage them to make new friends? How do you encourage trying new things, for instance, a sport, while also explaining that they have to be careful or they will get hurt? How do I teach my children that its okay to be silly and goofy but also teach them manners and the "proper way to conduct oneself?" How do I teach my child not to hurt someone (physically or emotionally) while also teaching them to stand up for themselves and what they believe in? Most importantly, how do I instill in my children the lessons that will shape them into the adults that my husband and I, as well as God, would want them to be? Why do I feel like no matter what life lesson I'm trying to teach, I will always contradict myself? What if I'm doing this all wrong?
 Earlier today, I caught my son sneaking popcorn off the table. As if that wasn't bad enough, he had himself a little pile and was licking it off the table. Needless to say, it gave him GREAT pleasure and his little laugh made my heart skip a beat and a smile light my face. All because of some popcorn. My next thought was Oh no! If I don't explain to him what he's doing wrong he'll think its okay! I stopped and really gave the situation some thought. He knows how to eat during a meal. Then it clicked. He thinks that this is funny because he knows his manners. He realized he was being silly and it made him laugh. It took me a minute to figure it all out but I let him be and after a minute or two and many giggles later he stopped what he was doing and moved on. No harm done. Parental decision is a success! But the fact that I gave it so much thought and had myself all worked up over it made me contemplate my parenting skills. What if theses situations aren't always that easy?
 Another example that had my mind spinning, happened a few days ago at the grocery story. My 2yr old daughter loves to "help" at the grocery store. Really that means that I give her a bag of something or a can and she tosses it into the shopping cart, giggles, and asks to do it again. Without thinking on either of our parts, I handed my daughter a pint of blueberries to add to the cart and before I could turn back around blueberries were scattered as far as the eye could see. Then she looked up at me with the worst puppy dog eyes and this expression on her face, as if she just found out that Santa didn't exist, and tears formed in her eyes. It broke my heart that she was so upset about spilling a few blueberries. But I also found it to be an excellent teachable moment. I told her all about how it was an accident and that sometimes we make mistakes or have accidents and that its okay. I asked her if she would help me clean up the mess since we were the ones that made it in the first place. "Oh, sure, mommy!" And we proceeded to clean up. But then a follow mom came over to tell me she saw the whole thing happen and that my daughter didn't mean to make a mess and I should just let the store employee clean it up. I kindly thanked her and proceeded to help my daughter clean our mess. Just before we were finished a different store employee came over and said "Oh, you don't have to clean that up, we'll take care of it for you!" I kindly thanked him too and we finished what we set out to do. Afterwards, and for several hours later, I couldn't help but wonder if it was the right decision to make. At the time, sure, I went with my gut. My gut said it wasn't anyone's fault but ours and so we should clean it up. But the other mother's words "she didn't mean to" and "it was an accident" kept playing over in my head. What if I made my daughter feel worse by making her admit to her mistake? What if I embarrassed her my making her clean it up? How do I know I didn't do more harm than good? I couldn't believe how stressed out this made me. Do other parents have this much trouble parenting? Surely not! They know how to do it right. They must have all the answers. But then I thought about it. Really thought about it. My daughter never mentioned the incident after it was over. In fact, she was happy to help clean up and we went about our merry way. As a matter of fact, it was one of the most pleasant shopping trips we have ever had with the kids. If I upset her wouldn't it show somehow? I'm not saying the other mother was wrong but I am saying that I can give myself a pat on the back. Another parenting success.
 It may not have been the right answer to the problem but it worked out. I went with my gut. I did what I felt was right in my heart. I want my kids to be able to do the same. Then it dawned on me. They will learn by what I do and how I act. So, I think the answer to all my questions can be answered simply by saying: Lead By Example.

Where have all the gentlemen gone?

You know, I haven't been on this Earth that long but I feel like its long enough to get a feel for how things work. More now, as a mother, then when I was a single female, I feel like I am slighted by the male population. I don't know about other woman out there but I have a hard time counting the number of guys that will pull out a chair, open a door, let me proceed him in a line, etc. (Yes, even my hubby has a hard time with this.) And I have two small kids. I would like to think that would give a hint, if nothing else, that screams "Hey, this lady needs all the help she can get!" But that's just not how young men are raised these days. When did that stop? And why?
Today while driving into the crowded gas station, I got cut off by a guy racing me (yes, racing, all of five feet to the first open pump, like gasoline was going out of style!). I sighed and made another round along to the next open pump in my MINIVAN with my two small KIDS only to be cut off, AGAIN, by another guy. He seemed to think I was racing him to the stop sign. He slammed on the gas, (yes, slammed) and squealed a tire all to inch out ahead of me maybe 2-3 feet. Of course I was dumbfounded. Now, there's not much left in my arsenal since becoming a Mama. So, with nothing else to do, I gave him my best Mama Face and without missing a beat he drove off.
Similar things like this happened a lot while I was pregnant, nursing and even when I was by myself with a baby in the stroller and carrying a diaper bag, etc. And on more occasions than I would care to count, I had to open the door while trying to drag in said stroller, hold onto the diaper bag and somehow manage not to lose my toddler, too. All that without an ounce of help. Not even a "Hey, sure looks tough to do that by yourself." Maybe its me. My parents always taught us girls that was how we should be treated and taught my brother that is how he should treat woman. I assumed that everyone knew this. So imagine my surprise when I became a grown woman. I am almost in shock when a guy is a gentleman to me or my kids. I feel like I should give him a bear hug, a medal or a "Your mama would be proud" award. For the first time in a long time that happened to me just yesterday. I was walking into my building at work and a dad (so he probably feels my pain) saw my arms full of baby and work stuff and quickly offered to get the door for me. I actually just stood there for several seconds trying to figure out what just happened. And then I realized he was being a gentleman. So to him, I say "thank you." You were thoughtful and kind and you set the mood for the rest of my day. To the rest of the male population, I feel like I should let you in on a little secret: Just because we are empowered women does not mean we want to be treated like one of the guys.

The Store

A typical trip to the store seems to require at least one of my children to spontaneously burst into a tantrum. My 3yr old son has at least put together that he will not receive a cookie from the bakery (a treat the store provides) if he acts out in any way. And so he makes his decision upon each trip. Have a cookie or not to have a cookie? (Wouldn't it be nice if mommy's decisions were that easy...ha!) But he lives with the decision he makes. Very responsible.
My 2yr old daughter (going on 16), has not been able to comprehend that screaming like a banshee and/ or rolling around on the floor in a fit of rage for most of our trip will not get her a cookie. Even if she asks nicely on our way out the door! Needless to say, it has been quite a while since we have been rewarded a cookie.
On this particular day, the tantrum my daughter had started at the car when she decided she didn't need to hold a hand to cross the street. Well, you don't hold a hand, you get carried. As we made it over the threshold, so close to the groceries I could smell them, she wiggled free and threw herself on the floor directly in front of the shopping carts. So not only is she screaming, crying and throwing a fit, she is in the way of other shoppers and their carts.
An older woman who watched my daughter pitch a fit in this particular store on a past occasion once told me "Honey, you do what you need to do for you kids. Don't worry about anyone else!"
And so that is what I did. I explained the wrong choices she was making, that there were consequences to her actions should she decide that pitching a fit was really the decision she wanted to make and finally, I gave her exactly 3 seconds to get off the floor or we are going back to the car for a "family meeting."
However, in the midst of all of this, a young woman comes into the store and into her cell phone says "Oh my God! There is a kid screaming. Its SO annoying! I can't hear you, I'll call you back." She quickly turned around and walked out of the store. As she walked away, I made it to three, grabbed my daughter, now screaming louder and made quick work of getting to our "meeting." We passed the same young woman on our way out (she was already back on the phone by this time). I hear her say yet again, "Ugghh!! Its the same kid! I will call you back later!"
My daughter and I quickly had our 'meeting' and made it back into the store with no problems and quite frankly she was more than eager to help mommy out by carrying the basket (pat myself on the back for that!). Almost out the door, we passed that young woman that had nothing but awful things to say about a 2 YEAR OLD throwing a tantrum. If fact, she went so far as to  attempt to smile at my daughter as she walked by. While the mama bear in me wanted to give her Majesty the Queen a piece of my mind about where she could take her "important" phone calls next time, I decided to be a bigger person (and a mommy who sets examples) and just nod and smile. And so we went home.

I would like to think that the lesson I got from this outing and yes, there is always a lesson, is that it truly is important how my husband and I raise our children. People may not like our parenting, they may not care to hear the tantrums, they may think we are doing it all wrong. But I know, like the woman said to me, I am doing what I feel in my heart is right for my kids. And I am so proud of that.

And for the young woman we met today, I sincerely hope we meet again, preferably when you have a 3 and 2 yr old all by yourself in a store after a long day of work/school and you can show me how its done.

The Joy of Being a Mother

The kids were sick. Again.

Like a good mother, I decided to put them out of their misery and take them to the DR. Upon our arrival to the Dr's office at 12:40p, I find that my son has had an accident in his underwear, in his car seat, in daddy's car,  which is sans a diaper bag. Super.

So, I go to the receptionist, ask for a diaper, wipes and gloves and off we go to the bathroom. Stripped the clothes, cleaned the area, wrapped soiled clothing in gloves. Bam!

Ten minutes, two kids in and out of the bathroom (one half naked now) we sit down and wait. 20 minutes after that I hear “MOMMY! I need to go POTTY!!” Same child, we go sit on the potty. Ten minutes later, our name is called and he’s not done yet. So we wait some more. 5 minutes later, we are all done with the bathroom, hands washed and we walk back and the crying ensues. Weight done, symptoms checked, DR comes right in. Right on track! Its 110p.

I proceed to hold each one down. First one: Check breathing, throat and ears. Bam!

Next one: Check breathing, throat, ears. Ba-

Wait, dr can’t see inside the ear, they need to flush each ear clean. Umm…ok. So my son sits on the table and the screaming ensues yet again..for ten minutes. While I’m sitting on top of him, a nurse holding his head, and a nurse flushing the ear. TEN, minutes! All clean! Great! I’m exhausted.

Dr comes back to check the ears. More screaming, you get the idea..and...

Nothing. Both kids are fine. 

It is now 204p. We leave the same shame-filled way we walked in, get in the car and drive home and this is what I found...

 

Upon arriving at home and seeing my beautiful children sleeping so peacefully, I breathe a sigh of relief that I, too, will now get a moment’s peace. Hallelujah!

I put the car in park and…

 

 

”Mommy? Where we going now?!”