Sunday, July 31, 2011
zaiki and co.: Poop, shoplifting and sloppy parenting - just an a...: " image:www.khushi.wordpress.com This morning I left my house ALONE with make up on. On time…Wow, it was a first time in forever…Usua..."
Kevin took the girls to the park the other day, and Sonya told him he was fat after he said he is too big to fit on the baby swing. Her first f-word. This is very sad - in my eyes, it's a beginning of the loss of innocence and universal acceptance that so amazes me in young children. It's a sign that the world is leaving its mark on my babies.
I grew up in a very superficial culture: you were considered beautiful if you were skinny and had long hair (just like everywhere else I imagine!). My mother kept my hair short and I was always referred to as "plump" during my childhood. That was very upsetting. My family was also decidedly, defiantly non-athletic. My feeble attempts in getting involved in sports were met with "Oh, just eat something!". This is why I love running - to me it is a symbol of breaking away from the mindset I was raised in and becoming my own person.
It took me years to start accepting the way I look, and I'm not even half-way there. An example of my neurosis is that I found a skirt in my closet I've had for 15 years (I know, I know, I'm a sad individual). I was able to zip it up, but it was a little tight and it derailed me for a couple of days.
I never use any physical descriptors (fat/skinny, cute/ugly) around my girls, and I was very surprised that Sonya said that. But, as my babysitter put it - you can't keep them in a bubble forever, older kids can be not nice to each other and little ones will pick it up. I was just hoping it wouldn't be so soon. It just hit me that, even as their mother, I don't have complete influence over what they are exposed to. All right, and hold all the "duh!" comments please, I'm allowed to have illusions. :) I still have them- that the girls will pick up their toys, that they will not fight with each other, always be nice, and go to win Nobel prizes for some groundbreaking research. Sigh.
Friday, July 22, 2011
|Image source: http://ejournal.eduprojects.net|
Maya's tonsillectomy came and went. Thanks to the Hunterdon Medical Center, Dr. Kroon from Hunterdon Otolaryngology Associates and wonderful pediatric nurses, it was as stress-free as possible. Here are a couple of wisdoms for those who are considering tonsillectomy or adenoid removal for their 2-3 year olds:
1. Partial tonsillectomy beats the full one - ask your doctor if it is an option. If he says no, get a second opinion.
2. If the doc shows no compassion to your child pre-op, switch. Your gut is usually right. The first doctor we saw wouldn't allow the zaikas to play with his blood pressure cuff in the exam room. His exact words (to two bored 2-year-olds) were: "don't touch my medical equipment". That did not sit well with me: if you are a pediatric ENT, you let your patients stand on their heads if they choose and it shouldn't rattle you.
3. Don't read the horror stories about starving children and tonsil removals gone wrong on the interwebs - that only adds to the anxiety. It's really, really not that bad. Honestly, Maya's pre-op blood work appointment was far more dramatic and stressful. Maybe it's because the
4. Children really are resilient - Maya was playing in the playroom at the hospital while drinking chocolate milk four hours after she came out of surgery. Then she got home and played with Sonya till bedtime.
5. Kids on codeine are funny: we gave her pain meds every 4 hours for the first two days, and it made her roll in circles on the bed, rub a fuzzy blanket like she was on ecstasy and sing "twinkle, twinkle" over and over again.
6.One bit of truth from the dreaded interwebs' discussions on horrible tonsil removals is indeed true: the dead dog breath. I'm hoping that there aren't many of you out there who smelled dead dogs, but the child's breath will be vile for awhile (that was intentional, I'm too cool for school :p)
7. Tonsils are like belly buttons: this gem was passed to me by Maya's doctor. Apparently, tonsils grow like belly buttons: an innie or an outie. Hers were so big, they were both. Poor kid's throat was almost completely blocked, so it's a good thing we did this.
It's been four days since Maya's surgery, and she was able to swallow meat for the first time yesterday. It was awesome!! I am so proud of my brave little girl, my great husband and of course Sonya, who handled the upheaval in the household and separation from her "sissy" in a truly graceful Sonya manner: with tantrums and biting. Love all three of them.