Wow

The world we live in can often be describes as cold, rude, insensitive, ignorant and mean. Even thought I live in a town where none of that is true (well, at times, but overall, that isnt the case) I was very concerned about taking my kids back into the world where those traits are a part of day to day life. Sad but true.

I was pleasantly surpise and somewhat shocked to have my concerns pushed aside thanks to a few "good people".

The LAST place I would even think of run into a helpful human being would be in an airport. I expected that the shuttle driver from the parking lot would be helpful...his tip depends on it. I did not expect any help from airline employees or TSA and I was not disappointed.

I was unexpectedly suprised when the business man in security declined my offer to go ahead of us, instead he helped by getting more bins for me, and helping to collapse the stroller.

My amazement continued when we went for pre-boarding and a fellow passenger helped me to break down the car seat/stroller.

The woman who sat next to us was very kind and didnt seem bothered when Sage did fuss right before fallling asleep. I determined she must be a grandmother.

Upon departing, a third passenger helped me to get the stroller set back up again and on our way.

And yet again, someone went back into the elevator and held the door open for us.

Shock and amazement at how kind people were. It was unexpected. It was a pleasant surpise that really helped calm my nerves of flying with 2 kids and tons of crap.

In a way, it renewed my faith in people. It wasnt that long ago that I was in an airport and people were rude and snippy and over all just jerks. I was concerned about being "that mom" on the plane. You know the one who is a hot mess with all the stuff I had and a screaming child or 2. I probably fit this description to a point, and would have been completely a disaster if I hadnt had the help from some many strangers.

So THANK YOU to those who helped me. To everyone else, I encourage you to hold the elevator, help collapse the stroller, or just wait in the line behind the crazy mess of a mom. Even if you dont physically help her out, just waiting and being patient can mean the difference in how the flight goes. And as we all know...when mommy is happy because the baby isnt crying, then everyone on the plane is happy.

Life with a Tween

I am spoke of this before, the drama (and resulting trauma) that is caused by living with a tween. I should say a female tween....doesnt seem as the boys moms have quiet as many issues as girls moms do.

Today it started with getting dressed for school. Well, things always start with getting dressed because this is not her favorite thing to do. I have tried getting her to pick out her clothes the night before. She just changes her mind in the morning. I have tried getting her up even earlier...that was a bad idea of catastrophic proportions. I have triend yelling, threatening, bargaining, pleading and yes, there have been tears. Nothing works.

I thought for about 3 seconds that maybe, this morning, would be an uneventful as she went upstairs to get dressed after one being asked once.

Then the stomping began.

Which is often followed by the slamming of dresser drawers.

Then she appears back on the stairs, red faced and crying because she cant find anything to wear.

"You cant find them because they are still on the floor and not in your dresser."

"MOM.....I cant find ANY jeans."

To her credit all of her jeans are in the dryer, which quieted her down for, oh as long as it took her to walk to the dryer.

She goes back upstairs and we all know that what goes up, must come down and she did.

Stomping all the way and screaming about how she "never wants anyone to wash her jeans again. They are wrinkly and crunchy and dont fit right and I am never, ever going to wear them again."

After a few comments about doing your own laundry and how much fun it will be for her to replace the floor she is going to break stomping around like an elephant, she calmed down. Slightly.

Then she got on her coat and boots, backpack and lunch box 10 minutes before we had to leave. Usually, I am starting to ask her now to get her stuff on because she get distracted easily...yes, distracted is a good way of putting it.

But this time, she starts to complain about how hot she is, why do we have to keep the house that warm, why cant we open a window. She fired them off faster then I had a response until I finally quieted her down by saying "if your so hot, go wait outside and play with the dogs for a few minutes."

Then on the way to school she told me about all the drama with her friends at school the day before, complete with hand gestures and tears.

Seriously, all of this before 730am.

I'm not sure we are all going to make it on this crazy train called life with a tween. And they say teen is worse then tween...oh my...

I told you so!

It all started yesterday afterschool when SHE responded to the question "Where are your snow boots at?" with "in my room, go get them for me."

Umm, no...and now you know why she is being referred to as SHE.

Well, its safe to say that I didnt go get them. For several reasons, first and foremost being I am not her slave and I dont take orders from her. I have had this exact conversation with my darling offspring more then once and her answer is usually "well why do I have to take orders from you then?"

One word...LABOR.

This time, instead of arguing with her, I just let her go. I informed her that she would be very cold in the morning because we were getting 6 inches of snow tonight and she kept walking, so I let her.

There was no snow in the forecast, but I had to give it one more shot.

Fast forward to this morning and sweetie-pie getting up and getting dressed in her skirt and tights and favorite pair of shoes. Hannah Montana with a slight wedge heel. I knew where we were going with this....I saw it happening last night when she left the boots at school. She wants to show off her fancy shoes, that are a size to small but "MOM its OK...I LOVE THEM and will suffer to wear them"....oh my.

We get to school and I tell her to "watch out for the ice, walk around the car."

"OK" which usually means an acknowledgement of what was said......but who am I kidding....she is 7...there is never a guarantee of acknowledgement.

As I am talking to another fabulous mom about the drama of her morning and how our husbands share the same thought process (which can be seriously lacking, I might add) I watch dear daughter start to walk across the frozen pond that is covering the parking lot at school....then break through...then instead of turning around and getting out of the icy water she kept going until she is up to her ankles in water.

Wet shoes. Wet tights. Wet child.

Is it bad that it took everything I had to curb my inner child from yelling "I TOLD YOU SO!!"?

She didnt even bother to look back because she knew that I was right. I told her that would happen, I told her she would get her precious Hannah Montana shoes wet. I wasnt going to feel bad for her because I had told her numerous times about her boots.

As I was shaking my head, one of her friends showed up at my door and told me that Piper said I should go get her tights and dry shoes because she was all wet. I told her friend that she could tell Piper I was pretty sure she wouldnt melt for being a little wet but she was that miserable, to put on her gym socks and boots...at least those were dry.

At least she was smart enough to send someone else to ask that question.

Small victory, I'll admit and I probably should feel slightly bad for her but really...I dont. I can only talk and talk and talk so much and frankly, I am getting tired of talking and reminding. I am really getting tired of the demands that I go get all the things that she forgets. That probably makes me a bad mom but oh well....we tend to learn lessons the hard way in my house. I have a feeling that this may be one lesson that is now officially learned.

Until the next time.

My pixie faced princess: The nose picker Repost

Originally posted on MySpace September 20, 2008


have quite a few friends whose children are younger then mine is, so often times we sit and discuss our children. I can usually give them a good idea of what lays ahead. This can work in many different scenarios, such as sleeping, eating, school, friends, discipline, support, things like that. I try never to tell anyone what to do, but tell them what works/worked for me, and give them idea. Most importantly, I let them know that whatever their child has tried, mine has done it also, survived and we all moved on in our happy little lives.
This is one of those moments I would like to share.....please first understand that I am not a mom who flips her lid over her childs actions. No, I am much more laid back (maybe to much) but I believe that kids are kids and unless there are more than 206 bones in her body (meaning 1 bone is now in more then 1 piece), massive, FLOWING blood (key word there is FLOWING, and not massive by a 5 year olds standards), or she is unconscious, I dont freak out. Chances are, she has already flipped her lid so I must maintain my sanity for the sake of our neighborhood (and so I can calm her down before someone calls the police thinking she is being killed).
Last night Shawn and I were remenicing of one of the first adventures Shawn had on his long trek into the "parenthood". Like most children, my daughter has a strange fascination with boogers. It started when she was about 2, and while I have managed to stop it for the most part....occasionally, when looking in the rear-view mirror, I can still see her index finger making its way to her face but not nearly as often as before "the incident".
P.S. Telling her that if she eats her boogers she will get a booger farm in her tummy does not stop a child obsessed with boogers. Sadly, it can escalate the issue at hand. Please, use that as a last resort.
We were driving to Denver International Airport on our way home from a week in Nebraska in January. It was later in the afternoon because our flight wasnt actually until the following morning, so we were taking our time on our way to the hotel for the night. We had Karen's car and Piper had made herself at home in the back. We made our obligatory stop at KFC for her, she had a drink, food, a DVD and a Dora movie...she was good. I had her settled in, Shawn and I had drinks, good weather, the 3 hour drive was going to go by peacefully.
Somewhere along the lines....about 90 minutes into I-76, my pixie faced princess, starts messing around with her napkin. She is ripping it, throwing it, eating it, everything but what it is meant for....which I tell her is getting the food off her face and blowing her nose.
Uh oh...there I said it. I reminded her of her nose. Whatever, as long as she isnt eating her napkin anymore in place of her chicken leg, then I dont care.
Until the whimpering starts. "mommy" she calls....and I am deep in conversation with Shawn about something, trying to keep myself awake as the sun is now gone and the long highway is now long and pitch black.
"mommy"
"yes Piper"
"my nose hurts"
"get your finger out of it"
"my finger isnt in my nose"
"well what is then?"
I turn around to look and there she is, my little girl with a big piece of napkin shooved up her left nostril. She starts laughing hysterically, because after all she is the funniest person she knows....and possibly at the look on my face. I reach back and yank it out of her nose.....turn around and on our merry way we go.
Until...."mommy"
"yes Piper"
"my nose still hurts"
"get your finger out of it"
"No mommy, my nose hurts up here" and she points to farther up her nose, near the bridge of her nose. She is at that point now, the point where I have to be sane to calm her down because of hysterics...the one where people may think she is dying....yep...that point. In a car. On a dark, desolate highway.
Ok, so I-76 is alot of things but desolate isnt one of them.
ANYWAY...by now, I am halfway into the back of the car and I can feel a large lump in the bridge of her nose. I have her tip her head back, fulling expecting to see a marble or a barbie shoe......but nothing. I cant see anything. Feel her nose again...yep....something is there....look back into her nose....nothing visible.
I get back into my seat, look at Shawn and he says whats going on......I tell him she has something stuck up her nose.
"What?"
"She has something stuck up her nose."
"What does she has stuck up her nose?"
"I dont know, I cant see it but I can feel it."
Piper is now in a full on panic (and I am not far behind) wondering now "if this thing is ever going to come out of my nose or will it be there forever"
Shawn has now gotten off the highway, at an exit that looked to me like it belonged in a bad Stephen King movie.
I get back into the back seat of the car, with a napkin, asking Piper the whole time what exactly did she stick up her nose.
"nothing mommy, just the napkin and my finger" Classic.
I hold the napkin to the tear stained, red, bumpy nosed face, semi screaming, semi laughing 5 year old and calmy tell her to blow her nose.
She does....at least she says she does, but it didnt feel like it to me.
Harder. The hardest you have ever blown your nose (Shawn is standing in the passenger door now, trying hard not to laugh, and I am sure he is seriously reconsidering this whole parenthood thing at this time.)
Again, harder I tell her. Now she is yelling at me about how hard she is blowing her nose, and she is very upset and scared and my yelling at her isnt helping.
Seriously, she is a piece of work at times. I am trying to think of the best way for me to calming ask Shawn where the nearest ER is located because I didnt think we would be able to get it out. I really didnt want to make that phone call to my mom either.....
Hi mom...yeah, things are good...no, we had to make a stop on our way to the hotel. We are at the ER because Piper got something shoved so far up her nose I cant get it out. I think we will make our flight unless they have to do surgery to remove it, I will let you know.
Yeah, that is not a phone call you want to make to Mimi.
Finally, she calms down enough to try again and she listens (or she is so pissed off at me) she blows really hard and I feel it, whatever it is, land in the napkin.
"YEAH"...she yells....."I can breathe out of this side of my nose again Mommy!!"
I look at the napkin to find out the offending object stuck up Piper's nose was the top portion of the napkin I had yanked out earlier. It was good sized and must have been jammed up into her sinus cavity because it was there....I could feel it, but I couldnt see it. After looking at the crumpled, ball of napkin and snot, I was amazed at how far she had it up there. I think Shawn was impressed and he states he is really happy because he has no idea where the nearest hospital is.
Great minds think alike, we both thought we would need professional help. I was thrilled I didnt have to call and explain to work that I missed my flight home because Piper had a napkin stuck up her nose.
We started driving. Piper is back enthralled in her Dora movie, drinking her Dr. Pepper and eating her 2 hour hold chicken leg. We looked at each other and I said "welcome to the parenthood honey" and we started to laugh. This is the point in time where Piper interjected her opinion that if I had left the napkin in her nose and not pulled it out, none of this would have been a problem. Mom. (she ends everything with Mom. She uses it like puntucation.)
Of course it was my fault. Everything is my fault. I am the mom....duh.
I wanted to share what is now referred to as "the incident" with everyone because at sometime, you child will stick something up their nose. Maybe a finger. Maybe a napkin. Maybe a marble or a barbie shoe. Regardless, most parents have been through it before, and our children all lived without any major, traumatic scars. Well....she may have scars inside her nose, but I will deal with that when I have to.

Piper + gravity = ER

Originally posted on MySpace September 24 2008


It was a beautiful evening in Midland. Crisp, fall air, the changing leaves, a perfect fall day.
We went to register for Girl Scouts, then had to run over to Piper's school to drop some papers off to Amy for Lilly's Scout registration. The girls were playing on the playgroud and I was chatting with Amy and her mom, when Lilly came over, semi cry because she just fell off the monkey bars. Amy sent her back on her way after ensuring nothing was permanmently damanged and we looked over at my monkey child, to which I uttered the infamous word I have now come to regret:

"I am amazed I havent ended up in the ER with her yet."

Amy told me I jinxed myself, Nah, I said.....I say that about her all the time and nothing...she may fall, but she wont get hurt to bad.

Then it happened. Not 5 minutes later. I didnt see it, but I heard it and I heard her. Turning around, I saw her laying on the ground, screaming, holding her arm.

By the time I got to her (which I didnt run, that only freaks her out more....I have done traumatic moments with her before....my panic becomes her panic) her left elbow was twice the size of the right one. I scooped her up, made sure her wrist and fingers worked, her shoulder was alright, so it was obvious the issue was in the middle.

Piper has a very high pain tolerance so I waited a few minutes to see if she would relax and calm down. She never did. She got a stomach ache. She got a headache and said her arm was getting cold.

At this time, my concern got greater because now she is not only quiet, and still crying about her arm, but she seems to be going into shock. I called Shawn, got him and off to the ER we went.
Of course, they were packed, and not very nice. Thankfully, Piper was such a good girl and tried so hard to be tough, that they put us in a room in the back so that we didnt have to wait it out in the waiting room.

Waiting it out meant 2 hours of sitting there waiting for someone to come and see us. There wasnt any comfortable way for her to lay down, no where really for Shawn and I to sit to snuggle with her.....just not condusive to a 6 y/o with a busted up arm. Heart attacks are probably very comfortable, so would be the occasional drunk person who doesnt want anyone to touch them but a 6 y/o with a painful arm who just wants her mommy to sit on the bed with her and make her arm feel better, not so much.

Dr. Newman finally comes in and he is very nice. VERY good with her and says he thinks is a break in the lower part of her humuorus bone. Off to X-Ray we go. First they gave us some pain killers for her, with a narcotic to help take the pain way.

X-Ray was the worst part, as any of us who have had X-Rays can attest to. If you have never had to help your child move their arm into positions that are extrememly painful in a room full of big, white equipment with strangers telling her what to do, its the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I wanted to cry with her, but I couldnt because I had to have my big girl panties on.
Anyway, she gets the X-Rays done, the tech's let Shawn look at them but I waited in the hallway with Piper. We go back to the ER, and what do you know....the medicine has kicked in. She is not asleep. She doesnt feel any pain, but she isnt asleep.

Mental note: codene is a STIMULANT for Piper.

She is now chatty, chatty, chatty and keeping all the ER nurses entertained. Apparently, since everyone else in Midland County had already been treated and sent home she had a fairly captive audience.

Dr. Newman comes in a says what he knew already, she broke the bottom bone of her humurous. Nothing shifted in the wrong place, everything looks good so here is the Orthopedic Surgeons number, call him in the morning.
She has a splint from her finger tips to her shoulder, and a sling with Charlie Brown on it. She slept with us last night, in the middle of us because we were worried about her rolling over on it.

The appointment with the specialist is tomorrow at 1030am.

She wants a hot pink cast. The wedding is in 6 weeks. Most casts are on for 8.....stay turned for the beautiful flower girl with the hot pink cast!!