Yesterday I got a call from the school saying that Logan had fallen asleep in class and they took his temperature and it was 104 degrees. When I got to the school he was asleep in the nurse's office and when they woke him up he looked awful.
We parked ourselves on the couch ("Momma, will you sit with me?") with water and the TV (River Monsters - one of his favorite shows!) and he slept on and off the rest of the night. He turned down dinner - which has NEVER happened before - and barely chatted with us at all. Every time he got up to go to the bathroom he cried about how bad his head hurt.
As a parent, when your child is sick like this, the feeling is ultimate helplessness. You do what you can to relieve their suffering and reach out to friends and family to find what old wives tales they've tried that have been successful, what medicines they've used in the past, and whether they would take their kid to the Doctor given the same situation. It is unfortunate but kids don't come with instruction manuals!
This morning I woke up hoping for the Hail Mary; the hope that everything would be all better and we could go on with our daily routine. As a working Momma one of the most difficult decisions to make is whether to call in sick or force the kiddos to school and see what happens. Mostly I'm a "just go and you'll feel better once you get there," kind of girl. That's how my Momma raised me, and so many times she was right. The risk you take is the ridicule you may receive; that is, will the school teachers and administrators think, "Why the heck did she send him back already?" Or will other kids get sick, probably through no fault of your child, and their parents will blame you? It really is a crap shoot. I like to err on the side of my kid spending as many days at school as possible. The fact is when you grow up and have a job you don't get to stay home for every sniffle or cough, every headache or cramp. You have to "buck up" and get on with your day. Of course there are always those that seemed to have never received that memo; my kids get it, loud and clear.
Today, I called in sick. Logan is still running a temp (although it is much lower) and I'm saving myself the judgement. We will see what tomorrow brings. If he's chatty and feeling OK, it's off to school he goes. I've got to get back to work!
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Failing at Easter.....almost!
As a kid Easter was always a huge deal at our house. My mom went out of her way to create these fantastic illusions: the house was decorated all month long, we had egg hunts outside, egg hunts inside, there would be "bunny tracks" throughout the house, the Easter basket would be packed to the brim, sometimes she even painted a Happy Easter sign on our large front window. And then we put on our new Easter clothes and went to church and then to my Grandma's house. Every year. No matter what.
Now, with the exception of the church part, I fully expected I would do the same for my kids. Oh, I have all the decorations. They are in a bin in the garage nicely labeled "Easter stuff." The only problem is they haven't been out of the bin for a good 5 years. And it's not just Easter; I have Valentine's Day decorations, St. Patty's Day decorations, Fourth of July decorations....all of which have not seen the light of day for many years. (We do generally manage to get the Halloween decorations out. That's good, right?)
As a result, I feel like a total failure as a parent. As I sit, half comatose in the recliner at 11pm last night my dear hubby was searching through a darkened garage with a flashlight trying to find the bin with the plastic eggs and Easter baskets. (Last year I was so lazy I just bought new ones so I wouldn't have to retrieve them from the bin!) He pieced together the random plastic eggs we had floating in the bin and filled them with change from the piggy bank in the kitchen and some old Jelly Belly's we had in the cabinet from last year. Then he proceeded to hide the 13 eggs we could find around the house. Now I DID manage to pick them up their Easter gifts last weekend so at least I had their movies and chocolate bunnies. But that is about all I did. I went to bed last night feeling horrible and didn't sleep much as a result.
As the light began to shine through the window I heard Logan's voice from the hallway, "HE LEFT AN EGG IN MY ROOM!!!" he shouted. Lilly woke up shortly after and the hunt began. She was thrilled to find an egg in her room as well. The thought of the Easter bunny quietly making his way through their rooms was very exciting to my two little kiddos. They found their baskets on the dining room table and were thrilled to get their movies, chocolate bunnies and a Ziploc bag of old jelly beans. When they found the twelfth egg they were content to sit and eat their candy, totally satisfied with their Easter experience. Daddy had to give them a hint that he noticed one other egg hidden. "But we each have 6 right now Dad. That's a dozen. And it's fair," said Lilly, never remembering that in the past there used to be a boatload of plastic eggs for the finding; a dozen each at least.
So you won't see cute pictures of my kids in their Sunday best posted on Facebook. They are in their grubby clothes, playing in the yard up at the farm today with their Dad. Meanwhile, I'm sitting at the computer, working, trying to relieve myself of the "Things to do" list so that I can sleep tonight. And, I feel better (even if my mom would give me a look like, "What? You didn't do more?!"). Kids don't expect fantastical explosions of decorations and excitement. They are perfectly happy with their 6 plastic eggs and year-old jelly beans. At least my kids are grateful for what they get. That makes me happy.
Now, with the exception of the church part, I fully expected I would do the same for my kids. Oh, I have all the decorations. They are in a bin in the garage nicely labeled "Easter stuff." The only problem is they haven't been out of the bin for a good 5 years. And it's not just Easter; I have Valentine's Day decorations, St. Patty's Day decorations, Fourth of July decorations....all of which have not seen the light of day for many years. (We do generally manage to get the Halloween decorations out. That's good, right?)
As a result, I feel like a total failure as a parent. As I sit, half comatose in the recliner at 11pm last night my dear hubby was searching through a darkened garage with a flashlight trying to find the bin with the plastic eggs and Easter baskets. (Last year I was so lazy I just bought new ones so I wouldn't have to retrieve them from the bin!) He pieced together the random plastic eggs we had floating in the bin and filled them with change from the piggy bank in the kitchen and some old Jelly Belly's we had in the cabinet from last year. Then he proceeded to hide the 13 eggs we could find around the house. Now I DID manage to pick them up their Easter gifts last weekend so at least I had their movies and chocolate bunnies. But that is about all I did. I went to bed last night feeling horrible and didn't sleep much as a result.
As the light began to shine through the window I heard Logan's voice from the hallway, "HE LEFT AN EGG IN MY ROOM!!!" he shouted. Lilly woke up shortly after and the hunt began. She was thrilled to find an egg in her room as well. The thought of the Easter bunny quietly making his way through their rooms was very exciting to my two little kiddos. They found their baskets on the dining room table and were thrilled to get their movies, chocolate bunnies and a Ziploc bag of old jelly beans. When they found the twelfth egg they were content to sit and eat their candy, totally satisfied with their Easter experience. Daddy had to give them a hint that he noticed one other egg hidden. "But we each have 6 right now Dad. That's a dozen. And it's fair," said Lilly, never remembering that in the past there used to be a boatload of plastic eggs for the finding; a dozen each at least.
So you won't see cute pictures of my kids in their Sunday best posted on Facebook. They are in their grubby clothes, playing in the yard up at the farm today with their Dad. Meanwhile, I'm sitting at the computer, working, trying to relieve myself of the "Things to do" list so that I can sleep tonight. And, I feel better (even if my mom would give me a look like, "What? You didn't do more?!"). Kids don't expect fantastical explosions of decorations and excitement. They are perfectly happy with their 6 plastic eggs and year-old jelly beans. At least my kids are grateful for what they get. That makes me happy.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Raising a Boy is a Funny Endeavor
I've been remiss and have neglected my blogging activities. I don't know why because I find it therapeutic and relaxing but despite that fact I still have not gotten around to writing. I would like to say that I will pick it back up and be consistent but I probably won't be. Life seems to get in the way!
ANYWAY...
I have 1 girl and 1 boy. It is interesting as a parent to see just how different raising the two of them can be. It doesn't help they happen to fall on the polar opposite ends of the spectrum.
When people say, "Boys will be boys," they are talking about Logan. He is rough and tumble. He doesn't get hurt easily. He is eager to get his hands in the mud and pick up bugs, slugs and other gross stuff. He LOVES to play sports. He loves to wrestle and fight with his Daddy. He doesn't care at all what clothes I buy him - in fact, he'd rather not wear clothes at all! He has no time for taking a shower or getting a haircut, they are both just time-takers from play time. He loves Spiderman and Transformers and anything he can bash together in an epic battle between good and evil.
He is also a constant source of comedy in our household. Children in and of themselves are uncensored and tend to tell it like it is. I love that about them. Logan, in particular, rarely thinks that something he says might be inappropriate or uncomfortable. In fact, as we are cracking up after some comment he made you will often see him looking around asking, "What's so funny?"
Logan recently started playing baseball. He lives to compete...and LOVES to win. (As much as we teach good sportsmanship and that "everyone's a winner" I believe it's innate in humans to want to be the best - to want to win!) As we got all the particulars together - you know, cleats, baseball pants, shirt, hat, mitt - we introduced him to the idea of wearing a cup.
We were in Sports Authority looking at a huge wall of cups - from little leaguers on up to grown men. Here was our conversation:
Logan: "What are these?:
Mommy: "Cups. They protect your "junk."
Logan: (looking at me quizzically) "So they go down here?" (he gestures to that region)
Mommy: "Yeah. They make it so that if you get hit with a baseball there, it won't hurt."
Logan: (looking incredulous) "So, right in this area?" (gesturing to that region again)
Mommy: "Yes. For that area. See this is how it works." (showing him the picture on the back)
Logan: (giggling) "Ewwww!"
Mommy: "Well, you have to wear one. Let's get this one with the undies."
Logan: "That one is tiny. I need a bigger one."
Mommy: "No, this one says it will fit you."
Logan: "I don't think so but whatever. So we aren't getting one of these that go up your butt?"
Mommy: "No, and they don't go up your butt. They go around your legs to hold it in place."
Logan: "Whatever. It looks like it goes up your butt. Gross."
Mommy: "Let's go."
Soon after leaving the store the idea of the cup was whooshed away by other chit chat. A couple weeks later as we are getting ready for the 1st big game it all came rushing back. There he was, standing there in his baseball socks and shirt. I took the cup out of the package and gave him the cup and the undies. He stepped into them and immediately started laughing hysterically.
Logan: "Oooohhhh, this feels weird!" (still laughing)
Mommy: "Is it comfortable enough?"
Logan: "Yeah. (yelling to the door) LILLY! COME SEE MY CUP!"
Mommy: "No. You don't need to show your sister."
Logan: "But look! (picking up and Transformer and banging it on the cup) It doesn't hurt at all! It's amazing! Lilly has to see this!
Mommy: "No. Really. Lilly doesn't want to see it."
Logan: (banging the cup into the walls and the doors) "This is fun!"
Mommy: "All right. Stop it. We need to get ready."
He seriously is hilarious. He makes Brandon and I laugh regularly with his witty, uncensored remarks. I know there are some things that kids say that you are supposed to not encourage; that you are supposed to suppress your laughter over so that they don't repeat the behavior. But sometimes, just sometimes, you have to just hug them and laugh!
ANYWAY...
I have 1 girl and 1 boy. It is interesting as a parent to see just how different raising the two of them can be. It doesn't help they happen to fall on the polar opposite ends of the spectrum.
When people say, "Boys will be boys," they are talking about Logan. He is rough and tumble. He doesn't get hurt easily. He is eager to get his hands in the mud and pick up bugs, slugs and other gross stuff. He LOVES to play sports. He loves to wrestle and fight with his Daddy. He doesn't care at all what clothes I buy him - in fact, he'd rather not wear clothes at all! He has no time for taking a shower or getting a haircut, they are both just time-takers from play time. He loves Spiderman and Transformers and anything he can bash together in an epic battle between good and evil.
He is also a constant source of comedy in our household. Children in and of themselves are uncensored and tend to tell it like it is. I love that about them. Logan, in particular, rarely thinks that something he says might be inappropriate or uncomfortable. In fact, as we are cracking up after some comment he made you will often see him looking around asking, "What's so funny?"
Logan recently started playing baseball. He lives to compete...and LOVES to win. (As much as we teach good sportsmanship and that "everyone's a winner" I believe it's innate in humans to want to be the best - to want to win!) As we got all the particulars together - you know, cleats, baseball pants, shirt, hat, mitt - we introduced him to the idea of wearing a cup.
We were in Sports Authority looking at a huge wall of cups - from little leaguers on up to grown men. Here was our conversation:
Logan: "What are these?:
Mommy: "Cups. They protect your "junk."
Logan: (looking at me quizzically) "So they go down here?" (he gestures to that region)
Mommy: "Yeah. They make it so that if you get hit with a baseball there, it won't hurt."
Logan: (looking incredulous) "So, right in this area?" (gesturing to that region again)
Mommy: "Yes. For that area. See this is how it works." (showing him the picture on the back)
Logan: (giggling) "Ewwww!"
Mommy: "Well, you have to wear one. Let's get this one with the undies."
Logan: "That one is tiny. I need a bigger one."
Mommy: "No, this one says it will fit you."
Logan: "I don't think so but whatever. So we aren't getting one of these that go up your butt?"
Mommy: "No, and they don't go up your butt. They go around your legs to hold it in place."
Logan: "Whatever. It looks like it goes up your butt. Gross."
Mommy: "Let's go."
Soon after leaving the store the idea of the cup was whooshed away by other chit chat. A couple weeks later as we are getting ready for the 1st big game it all came rushing back. There he was, standing there in his baseball socks and shirt. I took the cup out of the package and gave him the cup and the undies. He stepped into them and immediately started laughing hysterically.
Logan: "Oooohhhh, this feels weird!" (still laughing)
Mommy: "Is it comfortable enough?"
Logan: "Yeah. (yelling to the door) LILLY! COME SEE MY CUP!"
Mommy: "No. You don't need to show your sister."
Logan: "But look! (picking up and Transformer and banging it on the cup) It doesn't hurt at all! It's amazing! Lilly has to see this!
Mommy: "No. Really. Lilly doesn't want to see it."
Logan: (banging the cup into the walls and the doors) "This is fun!"
Mommy: "All right. Stop it. We need to get ready."
He seriously is hilarious. He makes Brandon and I laugh regularly with his witty, uncensored remarks. I know there are some things that kids say that you are supposed to not encourage; that you are supposed to suppress your laughter over so that they don't repeat the behavior. But sometimes, just sometimes, you have to just hug them and laugh!
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