Bad Mom Week

Three little random vignettes:  First, I don't always join in my kids' reindeer games so they can learn a lesson. Second, I take all three to doctor appointments and grocery store errands because there is no alternative right now. Third, Christian perseveres through his hard homework assignment through tears as I, his mom, am having flu-like symptoms and want to call the assignment off.

Episode 1:

It's been a long week filled with doctor appointments, sick husband, sick children, and sick me.  Yesterday I went to the store with the kids after Gabriel's appointment to check on his ear (he'd had a burst ear drum and ear infection a couple weeks ago).  It's such fun to take three kids to the store, especially when they run around, fight, and/or play 'Me and My Shadow' behind my back.  I was not in the mood and I gave them fair warning before heading into Kroger.  Towards the end of our errand, Gaby and Christian thought it would be fun to 'hide' from me, but I decided it would be less stressful to pretend I didn't know they were hiding and continue shopping instead. I really should've been more concerned, but I figured if anyone got lost they'd learn a little lesson. I'd already scolded the boys and I just needed to finish shopping.

About 10 minutes later I heard over the intercom, "Can Uh-lay-nuh come to the cashier?"  I found Gaby sobbing with two Kroger employees by his side.  He told me it was Christian's fault he was lost.  How so, I asked.  "Because he was playing the hiding game!" I reminded him it was his fault he was lost; he shouldn't have strayed away from me to begin with.  By the way, it was not Gaby who sought out help. Two very attentive Kroger employees noticed him crying and asked if he was lost.

Episode 2:

A few nights ago I started to feel real woozy and feverish.  By 2:00 that afternoon I was ready to crawl into bed.  That evening Christian began work on some math word problems.  The more frustrated he became, the more exasperated I became.  It was a one-hour battle.  Finally I told him to put the homework away and leave it for the next morning.  This agitates Christian more than anything -- an unfinished assignment.  Oh no! It means he will be in trouble at school.  I explained, as patiently as I could, that I was tired and that he could complete it the next morning before school.  Then I lost it and took it away from him and proceeded upstairs to their room so I could put them to bed.  Poor Christian wanted to finish the homework, and out of sheer frustration and sadness he cried, "I'm an idiot!"  That got to me.  That really got to me.

So I hugged him and told him he is not dumb, he's just having trouble with this particular assignment and he'll get it. I told him that I had the same trouble in school when I was his age.  Some things took more time to learn and I used to feel pretty stupid, too.  I told him that I was going to help him learn different ways to solve problems.  Christian is a visual learner like me.  He needs drawings and charts to 'see' the answer and organize information, but like a young me, he sometimes gets caught up in using only one strategy to find a solution.  I remember my dad trying to show me different ways to solve problems, but if it was not exactly the way my teacher had shown us in class that very day, I worried that I was not doing it correctly.  I thought there was only one way to a solution. 

Christian told me he gets nervous about tests at school, and unfortunately, this is a life-long process.  Teachers measure kids to see not only what they know, but what they need help with.  So he completed his assignment and I praised him for his perseverance. He told me he was worried about moving "a clip" (used for discipline at school), and I told him that if we used clips in our house, I would've moved my own for the unfortunate way I reacted to Christian's frustration earlier in the evening.  He then spent the next hour with me downstairs for one of my "pep talks" that he seems to enjoy enduring.  This is the time we spend talking about life, how it's not fair at times, and why we are constantly tested by all things material and spiritual.

Episode 3: Awkward

Yesterday I had an appointment with a podiatrist to check on the annoying pain in my left foot. It's always a joy to go see a doctor with three kids in tow. I warned them not to clown around and they did ok, except when they fought over the water machine in the waiting room and fought over who got to sit in the round chair in the examination room.

Over the weekend Mike gave me a good foot massage, and I could only describe where the pain was as the doctor felt around the heel and arch of my foot for sore spots.  I assured the doctor that I was practically limping for the past several weeks and that the pain has been intermittent over the past couple years.  As he continued the exam he joked, "I'm not going to give you a free foot massage.." Ha ha. He really put his foot in his mouth...oh the foot puns that come to mind. Obviously, Mike had done a great job of stretching and kneading the tissue. 

I was given a steroid shot in the heel and told to come back in a couple weeks to see if the pain is completely gone.  Apparently I have plantar fascitis.  When the doctor left, Christian asked loudly, "Why was the doctor acting like your husband?  Is he a massage doctor?"   On the way out, Christian informed me that as we were walking towards the car, he peered into the window and saw the podiatrist.  Christian said, "I pointed at him and told him, 'You're a massage doctor!', and the doctor told me, 'I can hear you.'"  Oh boy, my follow up visit might be a little awkward in a couple weeks. I wish doctors' offices had waiting rooms for children so parents could complete their appointments in peace. 

Last evening as I was putting the boys to bed, Christian again joked about Dr. Massage. He said, "I should've told him my arm hurts so that he could massage it."  He asked me several times if I'd told Mike about this, and I assured him I had.  Christian double checked with Mike after he came back from his trip this afternoon. This doctor's appointment really seemed to bother Christian.  Perhaps, if the podiatrist had been a female it would not have struck Christian as something strange for someone to touch my foot in a similar way Mike does for me. I'm sure it had everything to do with the 'massage' comment, though. 

Nana Came to Town

Nana came to celebrate Jojo's birthday.  The boys went to the Halloween store and found this year's costumes: Transformers.  Christian, who is scared of the scary masks, did not go inside so he had no choice but to dress as a Transformer this year. 

We walked to the car show down the street.  I imagined riding in this car and waving my hand like Mrs. Bucket (That's "Mrs. Bouquet" to the commoners). 

Gabriel

Jojo

Christian wanted to do "something fun", which means anything outdoors.  Mike and Brenda took them to the park and to the creek.  They were worn out afterwards.

We went to the German Festival and had our fill of frankfurters.  There was a park for the kids to jump around in blow up trampolines, go on manual train/airplane rides, and face painting!  The live music was the best -- if you've never heard a polka-ized version of 'La Bamba', you don't know what you're missing!  The costumes, the food, the craft booths were so much fun. 

Nana and I also took Christian to the ER on Sunday night, but other than that, we had a good time with Nana! 

Anything involving Christian is usually a long dramatic tale.  I only add this so I'd remember:  right side pain could be the appendix, pain on the left side is probably gas.  Never take Christian to the ER when he has pain on the left side.  Never take him when Nana is in town the night before school when he's the only one who has school the next day.  Remember that his hip could hurt due to growing pains, though, just like Uncle Jimmy, somewhere around puberty.  Remember to look at all surrounding circumstances before taking him to the ER (Is Nana in town?  Is Monday the next day? Make sure Christian sleeps in his own bed the night before school when Nana is in town.)

Fall is in the air.

Requiem for a Raccoon

One day last week the kids and their friends asked for a shovel.  "What for?" I asked. 

"We found a dead raccoon and we want to bury him," Christian informed me. 

Let the dead bury the dead, I thought.  I suggested we call Animal Control, but the kids were adamant about giving it a proper burial.  They were careful to not touch the animal with bare hands.  The little gravesite was decorated with rocks and flowers.  Upon the headstone they tried to write in chalk, "We love you, Pokey."

Christian told his friends that the raccoon was now up in Heaven with God.  A day later their friend decided to unearth the creature to look at its bones when it fully decomposes.  Gross.

One Last Sin, Father...

Señor

dame paciencia

pero damela

URGENTEMENTE

Hanging on my walls are ceramics that I've picked up in Spain.  The above message is on a tile which hangs at the foot of the stairs in the house.  Translation: "Lord, give me patience, but give it to me NOW."  I think that I am the mother to three boys because I've constantly prayed for patience throughout my life. Sometimes prayers are answered in ways unexpected.  Instead of being given the grace of patience, I gave birth to three boys within four years to show me how to attain this virtue.  At least that's what I think.  Either that or God has a sense of humor.

The night before I went to Ohio to visit Mike I tried for the second or third time to go to Confession.  I was panicked because it was overdue and I had not had Communion for close to six weeks. At our church, you have to arrive 30 minutes before Confession to wait in line, and so I brought the boys with me because I had no other choice.  I was leaving on a flight the next day and a) I hate flying, b) I didn't want to die in flight without having a last Confession, and c) I was determined to get it done.  The other times I had attempted to go the last penitent was either a person or two ahead of me in line.  Sometimes I wish the priest would just pop his head out and look at the line of psyched-up, just-let-me-get-this-over-with people and take pity on us by allowing a few minutes extra.  I always seem to get stuck behind the person who hasn't been to Confession in years and who takes an extra five precious minutes or so.  That's why I write a list so I'm prepared.  Then I burn it or shred it.  I also have my handy Act of Contrition card that, for the life of me, I can't seem to memorize.

But, oh, how difficult it is to contemplate my sins, pray, and find that quiet place in my mind to focus when three boys are running between pews.  This day I had to leave the line several times to stop Jojo from standing on the pew while reaching over the row ahead of him.  I had to stop Gaby from bothering Jojo.  I had to ask Christian numerous times to stay still in one spot so his brothers would do the same.  But then Gaby would get too close to Christian and Christian would scoot further away from him and me.  Or he would sneak around the pew behind him to hide from his brothers.  Everyone in line got to enjoy this circus.

But then Jojo, who is going through the way-worse-than-twos stage at the age of three and is quite stubborn decided to stand on the pew once again and reach over to the pew in front of him. I gave him another warning.  Only this time he slipped and fell onto the hard floor flat on his back. How he did not hit his head I do not know.  There was an audible gasp from the line of people.  When I went to Jojo he was lying there looking straight up at the ceiling with a stunned expression.  He started to wail when I picked him up and I carried him back to my place in line.  I whispered loudly to Christian and Gaby to sit still! hush! see what happened?! stop it! enough!

Finally, the priest arrived and we were about 6th in line.  A thought struck me: why doesn't anyone ahead of me see my struggles and offer to let me go ahead of them?  Maybe they were in the same boat, though.  Maybe they too had tried to make a Confession before and missed getting in by one or two people and hell if they were going to lose their place in line! I can't blame them.  But still, I was annoyed and frustrated.

We made it to the front of the line, and when the lady ahead of me came out of the confessional, I instructed Gaby and Christian to wait right outside of the booth as I went in with Jojo.  I was afraid Jojo would hurt himself, and I didn't trust his brothers to watch him.

I quickly knelt down with Jojo beside me in front of the screen.

Father:  "How old is your child?"

Me:  "He's three."

Father: "Can he understand anything you are about to confess?"

Me: "No.  His older brothers are waiting outside."

Father: "Go ahead with your confession."

Me: "Bless me Father, I have sinned...it's been two months since my last confession..."

About 30 seconds later I blurted out all sins. What a relief! But still, I was annoyed and feeling angry at my kids.

Father: "Why didn't you attempt to make a confession earlier?"

Me: "I did try once or twice before...." and I explained what happened.  Still, no excuse for not trying harder.

My sins were absolved and penance given.  I made my Act of Contrition and it was then that Jojo decided to add his two cents worth. I'm sure he was fascinated by the stranger's voice coming through the screen.

Me:  "Oh My God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee.."

JoJo, with face fairly close to the screen:  "And I want to go to Chuck E. Cheese!"

Me, pulling Jojo closer to me: "...Who art all good and ..."

Jojo, struggling away from me, louder: "And we go to the park!"

Me, struggling with Jojo, louder: "I firmly resolve..."

Jojo, with face mashed against the screen: "We go to Chuck E. Cheese!"

Me: "...to avoid the near occasions of sin. Amen.  Oh, one more confession Father: I'm real angry with these kids and I have no patience with them." 

Father was gracious, although I detected a little impatience in his voice.  Oh, if he only knew what I'd just been through maybe he'd understand.  Or, maybe the priest had been praying for patience and this was one of those teaching moments God likes to send our way.

Faster than a Rolling 'O'

Christian: You're not allowed to wear the Darth Vader mask at the Balloon Fiesta.


Gaby: Yes I am, but you're not allowed to wear that cape at the Balloon Fiesta.



Nana and Papa came for the Balloon Fiesta in October. We saw the Glo-deo one evening and then came for the Mass Ascension one weekend.

The boys dressed up in their new Halloween costumes to see the Storm Troopers with the Darth Vader balloon.

The latter half of the month Gaby stayed home from preschool because he had his tonsils and adenoids removed.  He got to stay one night at the UNM Children's Hospital, which is a very nice place for children.  They have a special family room and a rooftop playground.  Plus, Mother Goose came round to read a story to Gaby who was very groggy and sore after the surgery.

Gaby gives tonsilloadenoidectomy surgery a one thumb rating.

One thing that was stressed to me by the numerous nurses and doctors:  make sure Gaby drinks plenty of fluids!  That first weekend home he hardly ate more than a bite of a popsicle or taste of yogurt or sip of juice.  We resorted to feeding him fluids with a medicine dropper.  The second item stressed:  keep ahead of the pain by giving him medicine every 4 hours the first few days.  The worst part was right after the surgery when Gaby came out from under anesthesia and I had to calm him as he kept waking/crying and passing out.  Although Mike stayed with him before surgery, he was unable to be there afterwards and Gaby remembered!  "Where's Daddy?  I want Daddy!" he would ask before he'd pass out.  It was the same scenario when he had his ear tube surgery a few years ago at the age of 17 months.  Only this time, I was prepared and not pregnant or hormonal when I had to see him like that. 

Since he's had the surgery, he no longer snores at night and sleeps well.  And he seems to have so much more energy and is less cranky, too.  He'll have another sleep study in January to see if the apnea has disappeared.  Gaby had an ear infection soon after the surgery, so he'll have his ears checked next month.  Only this time, he didn't have a sore throat and that was a relief.

Lack of H2O Woes

Last weekend Mike took the kids to Sandia Peak to go on a hike.  Mike is not used to the heat of the southwest -- the dry heat which causes some to sweat less and not realize they're thirsty or possibly dehydrated.

That night he felt tired and a little sore from the hiking.  He had carried Jojo part of the way and thought that may have been the reason for his exhaustion.

I heard Mike wake up around 3:30 that morning and walk to the fan switch. He had felt chilled, so he turned off the fan.  I vaguely remember hearing his footsteps when all of I sudden I heard a loud WHUMP. "Mike, are you ok?"  No answer.  I quickly jumped out of bed to turn on the light to see where he was. 

Poor Mike was out and I had to tap his face and shake him a little.  He had landed between the bed and our dresser, so the first thought I had was he must have tripped and hit his head.  He slowly came to and I asked him if he had rolled off the bed.  He thought he had, but a few minutes later he remembered that he was heading towards the bathroom after having turned off the fan.

He felt nauseous and I put a wash cloth on his head and then I took his blood pressure, which was low.  The next thought that ran through my mind was that he had had a heart attack.  But he didn't have any other symptoms.  Heat exhaustion was the furthest from my mind.  Mike seemed to be improving so we did not call 911.  The following day after speaking to friends and family about what had happened, we realized that he may have had heat exhaustion and had possibly been dehydrated. And then I heard that my cousin's daughter had experienced the same thing a few weeks prior -- nausea, fainting.  Lesson:  Always drink plenty of fluids when outdoors in the heat.

Bad Things Happen in ....Fives????

I have not been able to keep up with this blog because we have had a little excitement lately.

First, my mother broke her arm when she went to answer the phone late in the evening the night of our return from Spain. The airline had lost two pieces of luggage and had called around midnight to arrange to deliver them to their house. My mother was still half asleep and in a jetlagged state when she got out of bed to answer the phone quickly knowing that it was the airline calling. She does not know what she tripped over, but she ended up with a fractured wrist and some painful bruising on her face. Her cast is finally going to be removed next week.

A few weeks ago my cousin Alberto called to say that Tio Alberto had tripped at La Torre and fractured his femur close to the hip. They had to rush him from northern Spain to the hospital he works at in Madrid for surgery. Had he not had the position he has at the hospital, he would've had to wait at least three months for surgery (I'm not a heartless person; I'm absolutely against socialized medicine for that very reason among many others). He ended up having a pin put into his leg and was in severe pain probably because he has Paget's Disease, a secret he had withheld from the family for several years and for which he is now receiving treatment. Paget's is not curable, but treatment can prevent progression. It is hereditary as my grandmother had it, and a few years ago my brother and I observed that he walked with a limp like Abuela used to.

A couple weeks ago my mother-in-law came to visit and the day she arrived we took the boys to a park nearby. She started to complain about a sharp pain on her left side and thought it might be her diverticulitis acting up. But as we were driving home the pain was so severe that Mike took her to the ER that evening. She was misdiagnosed with diverticulitis and urinary tract infection, but as the weekend wore on (we celebrated Christian's birthday that weekend) she still did not feel better and by Sunday she was in agony, so back to the ER she went with John. The next morning John called to tell us she was going to be rushed to another hospital because they had found a 6-cm. (2.4 in.) mass on her left kidney, which turned out to be a benign kidney tumor (angiomyolipoma) that had to be embolized in order to starve and subsequently shrink it. Brenda needed to stay in the hospital for a few nights and recuperated for another week here in Albuquerque. She returned yesterday to Tennessee. We are so grateful that she is doing better, and they will see a urologist in the next month to see if the tumor has shrunk.

While she was here recuperating, last Friday morning I awoke at 5:30 to sharp pains in my abdomen and ended up in the ER myself because of a kidney stone that passed. Out of desperation I called my next door neighbor at 6:45 begging her to take me to the hospital because I knew I could not drive myself. Let me tell you, having a kidney stone is the worst pain I have experienced. I would rather repeat the petocin-induced labor, back labor pain and the too-late epidural that I had with Gaby than go through another kidney stone again. I was alone vomitting in the waiting room and a "helpful" person stuck her head out to tell me, "There's a bathroom down the hall," and then handed me a tub. I remember being in such miserable pain moaning, "Someone please help me." I had visions of being left alone to die in the ER waiting room as what happened to the poor lady in New York last summer as I myself was writhing in pain on the floor, vomitting into my pretty pink bucket as a hospital worker passed me by with nary a sympathetic glance in my direction. Finally, I was able to walk/crawl to the bathroom and finish my business. And suddenly I was able to walk upright back into the waiting room. I felt so foolish thinking I had had gas or some stomach bug, but I was told told my symptoms were those of passing a kidney stone. Here I was in the hospital while my mother-in-law, who went through something much worse, was waiting at home with the boys. She was a real trooper.

And the final bit of news is that my sister-in-law's parents were hit head-on by a drunk driver in Pittsburgh last night. It's miraculous that they survived as many victims rarely make it through such a crash. It happened right in front of the cemetery where their son was buried some 13 years ago. Jeanne's parents are doing well, although her mother received the brunt of the force on the passenger side and will be recovering for the next couple of weeks in the hospital. They both had to endure surgery for broken limbs and gashes. Jeanne and two of her sisters live in Dallas, and last night was a particularly ominous evening with dark clouds covering most of the city. Jeanne noticed something as she was driving home. "Look, Daniela. There's a pink shine coming from those clouds. That means Uncle Daniel is in heaven watching over us." It happened at the time when her parents were involved in the crash in Pittsburgh.

Even though this has been such a weird summer with all these happenings, I feel so lucky because things could have turned out so much worse for each of us. We have our lives, our families, friends, and love. Above all, God is good.

There is a reason for everything and someday it will be clear.

The Best Way to Find Out about a New Product: Have an Accident!

Mother's Day was great, yet a little eventful. Towards the end of the day, Jojo had a big fall which resulted in a gash on the head. I should've remembered Mike has a weak stomach as he handed me the poor bleeding babe. Mike did not do so well during my labor/delivery; He cheered me on from the headboard part of the bed and out of his mouth came one long sound, "Oohh...uggghhhh...whoa," as each bundle of joy made his first appearance in the world. I did not come close to fainting as I had with the finger incident a couple months ago. Of course, my dad was there to assist and that kept me calm. Did you know there is a spray-on (or paint-on) bandage product which holds wounds together? Kind of like Super Glue.

Christian enlisted Mama G.G. to go hunting for lizards in Yaya & Grandpa's yard.

There is Jojo with his bandage covering his "pupa" (poo-pah). The next day we went to the duck pond at UNM campus.
The boys fed the ducks some bread.
I sat in the shade to watch them. The sound of the fountain was relaxing until a certain thought entered my head.

Have I mentioned potty training Gaby? Well, it looks like he will not be potty trained by the time preschool starts. I've tried bribes, threats, cheering, and silly potty dances to no avail.

I leaned back to stare at the leaves above me against the wide blue sky and took a deep breath. Serenity now!

Is There a Nurse in the House? Oh Wait, That's Me.

This week has been filled with little accidents and incidents. I made my biannual call to Poison Control because Gaby found the bottle of allergy medication tucked away behind the spice rack as he was searching for the candy. I had kept/hidden the bottle in that spot to have it handy for Christian later in the day. Silly me, I forgot that everything hidden will be found by Weasel Tot #2, even if it were tucked away underneath a pile of blankets in the most remote corner of the house. Lesson #1: Never forget to put away medicine in a safe place, even if you know you are going to use it within five minutes, because if you have Adult ADD (it's contagious among women with small children) you'll forget why you left there in the first place. Lesson #2: Never leave Weasel Tot #2 alone downstairs alone with if there is a stash of sweets somewhere that is (a) visible and/or (b) within reach, even if it is on top of a refrigerator. Lesson #3: Never leave Gaby unattended - EVER. More and that later.

So I thought it was unusually quiet when I came downstairs. Gaby had sticky fingers and then I saw the puddle of medicine on the floor in the kitchen. There was also a teaspoon sitting on the counter. I realized he had opened the medicine and tried to pour it onto the spoon, just as he has seen me do many times before.

"Did you drink any of that medicine, Gaby" I asked.

"Yeah, I deeed. It's in my tummy."

"Did you drink any out of the bottle or from the spoon."

"Yeah, I deed dat."

"Which was it?! Did you drink? Yes? Did you drink from the teaspoon? Yes?" I panicked a little.

I called Gail first, one of my good friends who's also a pharmacist and who has received too many inquiries from me over the years. Like the time I worked for the semi-insane couple in NJ and whose wife expected me to take care of him while she went away to a funeral, including administering his medication at the correct times (I was their 'marketing specialist') and feeding their damned cats, and when I read the names of the many medications to Gail she responded, "Oh, Elena. Be careful with that man; he's psychotic." But I digress.

So I could not reach Gail at home, so I then I called Poison Control. Their number is memorized because on average I call twice a year: 800-222-1222. Gail used to work there, too, when she was fresh out of Pharmacy School. Poison Control is very good about checking back within four hours to see that everything is ok.

On Friday Jojo had a scary accident that involved lots of bleeding. That coffee table glass that was ruined last fall was replaced by Plexiglas for now (very classy). Jojo has now learned to climb on top of the table, and several times that morning I had removed him from the table. I should have removed the table instead. The moment I went into the kitchen Jojo got back onto the table and fell off, only this time his finger was caught between the Plexiglas and the frame which resulted in a good chunk of skin that was ripped up the side of his left pinky finger.

Blood makes me nervous, and after ten minutes of applying pressure to the wound I called my parents in a panic because I was afraid I'd have to take Jojo to the urgent care for stitches. Less than ten minutes later the blood stopped flowing as my dad was en route to our house. He checked it and saw that the wound was healing on its own and we decided not to go urgent care. Stitches and a shot would have been very painful for the little guy. As of today, it seems to be healing, although there is a little swelling. I'll take him to urgent care if it's still swollen tomorrow in case there is a fracture.

Other accidents to report: Jojo fell out of the crib after apparently climbing onto the pile of clothes that Gaby had thrown into the crib. I have already removed all toys from the room since Gaby has a terrible habit of throwing toys into the crib, which ended up putting a gash into Jojo's head. I may also have to remove all books and anything loose in that room. Either that or remove Jojo, but there'd be less room in Christian's room which means that I would have to move Christian into Gaby's room and move Gaby into Christian's. I'd rather remove all loose objects from Gaby and Jojo's room for now.

The only time I experienced labor pain was with Weasel Tot #2; he also kicked much when he was in my stomach. That should have been warning enough that this one was going to test my outer limits.