Archive - 2011

1
Linguini Facial
2
Kids and Poison Control Safety
3
Dealing With Difficult People
4
Did She Just Shush Me?
5
Sometimes
6
Hump Day Is Exhausting
7
Pink Eye—Read the Label Folks
8
Lisa’s Lexicon
9
The Lies We Tell As Special Needs Moms
10
Wordless Wednesday – Avery’s Blue Period

Linguini Facial

I made a healthy, home-freaking-made-from-scratch meal and I was ready to impale myself on a dull spoon midway through dinner. My little girl eats like a bird. A baby humming bird.   Lately we’ve made great strides, both in food diversity and in weight gain. It’s a roller coaster—good days and bad. I’m okay with that. But, when your child refuses to eat something she normally loves, it’s irritating. For the love, who refuses linguini??   I tried everything. All of our usual tricks. Even our latest and greatest… paying off each bite with a butterscotch CHIPIT.   I can handle a little food refusal. What I can’t handle is when my child wrestles her dish (which was suction cupped to the table for stability) with such furry and determination that it launches suddenly upwards, flinging the entire meal like an aerial assault by an army of searing hot saucy snakes, into her mother’s face. I enjoy a facial, but I draw the line at a pesto prima vera treatment.    I threw in the towel, after wiping away the sauce with it, and retreated to my office, leaving daddy to deal with the pasta shrapnel. Tomorrow would be a[…]

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Kids and Poison Control Safety

In my youth, I would crank a wicked tune by metal band “Poison” and lose control. These days, my Bret Michaels poster* has been replaced by a fridge magnet with the phone number for Poison Control. Until yesterday, my calls have been for relatively minor inquiries like, “What should you do if your child should eat a handful of Hershey’s Kisses…with the foil on?“   Last night my daughter awoke with a fever. I immediately gave her a dose of children’s liquid acetaminophen. I put the bottle back in the latched chest on the top shelf in our locked hall closet. This is where we keep all medications—well out of reach. I left a bottle of ibuprofen on the bathroom counter ready for the morning. We alternate between Tylenol and Advil so we can safely overlap doses. I figured if I left the bottle out, there would be no hazy sleep-deprived confusion about which type to give her next. Smart right? Not really.   In the morning as usual, Avery got up and went to the bathroom. I was two minutes behind her. When I caught up with her, she was standing on her step stool, holding the OPEN medicine bottle, smacking her[…]

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Dealing With Difficult People

Some people are just plain disagreeable. You know the type. They ooze negativity and criticism. Mall parking lots and grocery line-ups are littered with them. Obviously, we don’t know what others might have going on in their lives. Perhaps they are usually pleasant, but happen to be temporarily bitter for a legitimate reason. I’m not counting them. I’m talking about the crotchety ones who are nasty on a daily basis. It’s futile to try to avoid these toxic humans. They’ll find you. And when they do, they can turn your happy smile into a painful grimace in an instant…if you let them. My mom emailed me an article about dealing with difficult people.  I’ve included excerpts below, with comments. What did you just say? Alexia Elejalde-Ruiz,  Hamilton Spectator   They are your sneering coworkers, your prying neighbours, your insulting in-laws. They are the nasty people who make environments toxic. But you can beat them without joining them. How to deal with nasty people: See it for what it is. Rather than internalize the criticism or dwell on what you might have done to deserve the attack, recognize that the nasty person has personal issues. Dwelling is a hard habit to[…]

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Did She Just Shush Me?

  Last week I took daughter with me on a “Mama is going out and doesn’t have a thing to wear” mission. We popped over to the Espirit outlet in hopes of finding a new shirt. Ever mindful of my…my…budget *shudder* I limited my quest to ONE item. Painful as it was, I sourced out a few tops to try on and headed to the change room…after I helped Avery pick up the pile of purple sweaters she had knocked onto the floor, put back the umbrella and two purses slung over her shoulder and removed the lavender tank top from around her neck. Shopping with a curious child is a challenge. However, how will she ever behave appropriately if she’s never given the opportunity to learn?   While I tried on the first shirt, Avery kept busy by yodeling. She found the echo of the empty change room area amusing. While I struggled out of the blouse (picture Houdini trying to escape from a straight jacket and chains), Avery began to hum.   Eventually her patience ran out and she attempted to escape under the door. I can’t really blame her. It was way more fun out there, unfolding[…]

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Sometimes

Sometimes when you have too much to say, you end up saying nothing at all. I’ve tried to write many times this week. But instead of writing a word, I clicked “close” every time.   Sometimes when life is too hard, you shut yourself off. You assure everyone around you that everything is fine and you try to believe it.    I feel guilty because others have struggles much harder than my own. I have a child with special needs. So what? So do many, many other parents. Our story is not unique. Avery is healthy and happy and beautiful and I should feel lucky. Or so I have been told. But some days, instead of lucky, I feel frightened, frustrated, angry or sad.   I’ve always had the attitude that everything will be okay. This is our normal and life is good. It’s not perfect, but it’s good. It seems you can only go on for so long fooling yourself into thinking your life isn’t hard.  My life is hard. Avery is funny and loving, but she’s difficult. She doesn’t understand “danger.” She is always at risk and it’s taxing living in a constant state of fight or flight.[…]

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Pink Eye—Read the Label Folks

We need a Hazmet team to disinfect this house. My husband is the latest victim of this itchy and ugly affliction called Pink Eye. I don’t need to explain how traumatic this has been in his eyes (I mean that both literally and figuratively). According to him, conjunctivitis is even more debilitating than a Man Cold. I know… My darling son itched his eye yesterday, just once, and I was on him with the drops before he could blink. I am hell bent to nip this mini-pandemic in the bud. Usually he’s very easy going about the eye drop insertion routine. This time however, he writhed and moaned and told me it stung. I poo-pooed his protests and carried on. This is when he really kicked up a fuss. “This feels different mom. I’m not kidding.” Seems I’d used ear drops by mistake. Just in the one eye. So that makes me only 50% negligent. right? When I got my hands on the correct drops and attempted to douse the second eye, I had to regain his trust. Silly kids. If they only knew that we’re basically just winging this whole parenting thing, they’d never trust us so blindly. Oh[…]

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Lisa’s Lexicon

Sometimes a word just fits. So what that you made it up and bastardized the English language in the process? If it gets your point across, does it really matter? Here are few words spewed forth from my keyboard that aren’t in the dictionary, but fabsolutely should be!  Blunderment: an awkward or embarrassing moment brought about by one’s own stupidity /“That fall in front of my child’s school was a blunderment of unspeakable proportions.” Fabsolutely: an exceedingly enthusiastic, yet sincere “Yes!” response / “Would I like to spend a child free day at the spa? Fabsolutely!” Manderpants: mens’ underwear, most often found inside-out on the bedroom floor / “I swear,if I find those manderpants on the floor one more time, I’ll stuff them up your nose.” Sapimental: a sappy, sentimental feeling or display of emotion resulting from nostalgia;  often includes “happy tears” or the “laugh/sob” / “Pass me a tissue. I’m feeling a little sapimental today.” Halloweiner: a husband who takes great pleasure from scaring innocent children on Halloween.  “I can’t believe you threw a severed leg at those kids! You are such a Halloweiner!”  Commfitment: a vow to get fit, like, for REALS this time. “I have made a serious commfitment. Pick me up for Zumba ok?[…]

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The Lies We Tell As Special Needs Moms

I told a lie about my child. You’re probably expecting a joke or a silly pun right about that. Not today.    I brought my daughter with me to the drugstore to buy eye drops (and shampoo and lip balm and a travel sized hairspray and milk. I need to get this impulse buying thing under control). As I stood in the skin care aisle (I also bought hand cream) Avery picked up various bottles and tubes and chattered away. Then she spontaneously hugged the guy who was stocking shelves next to us. She’s tactile and a hugger without boundaries, obviously.    All the while a young female clerk was casting glances our way. Later at the checkout that same clerk was organizing the magazines. She asked, “How old is she?” An innocent question, but one I’ve come to hate nonetheless. I understand why people ask. ALL THE TIME. They’re just trying to figure Avery out. She looks her age-ish physically, but her social graces and immature speech patterns make her appear much, much younger. “How old is she?” is an attempt to make sense of the disparity.    “How old is she?” asked the clerk. “She’s four,” I answered. […]

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