This is not unusual she “hates” it. “I don’t want too!” She says.
So I gave her a warning. “You have until I get this bath run…”
So dad decides to walk in the room. I know full well he ain’t gonna be able to get her to do anything. And then I hear her crying over the sound of water running into the tub.
I go in there and cannot keep a straight face. The Hubs is just sitting in the chair and The Kid is crying in the loveseat. But I can tell (you just can as a parent) that these are not true tears. These are crocodile tears. She’s faking it. She’s getting really good at faking it.
So I straighten my face up, ask her if she’s done. She stops the fake tears, and I have to raise my voice. Not yelling or screaming. But clearly showing her I am the boss, not her.
Eventually she reluctantly comes to the bathroom for the bath. And no time later, she’s back to telling me, “you’re the meat mommy in the whole world.” And “guess whose my favorite in the whole world?” And the ever amazing, “you’re my favorite mommy.”
Kid I’m your only mommy. But I ain’t mad.
She is young yet. Less than ten. She has not been jaded or broken or wounded by the world, or worst of all, a parent. She’s not had her heart truly broken by someone she can trust, someone she loves.
It’ll happen one day. If it is by lort, punish me for eternity because I would never harm that child if I can help it. But if someone else does it they have me to deal with. And my wrath will be mighty.
But seeking vengeance for my baby’s broken heart will not heal it. And one day she will be hurt and she’ll see she cannot be so quick to forgive. Though I wish I could keep her pure and loving and happy for ever.
In order to be a good mom, you need to love your kids, care for them, provide for their needs, and show them you care. Understand they they have their limits just as you have yours.
You’re not a bad mom if you want some quiet time to yourself. And you’re not a good mom just because you don’t ask for that time, or you prefer not to have it.
But you also need to take good care of yourself in order to take good care of your kids. If you’re not in a good place physically, mentally, emotionally, you might have a difficult time caring for someone else. Especially when they might be able to see that.
Children are intuitive. They know things. They sense things. My kid knows when I’m depressed. She’s especially loving on those days. I check myself before I problems affect her or our relationship.
There is no such thing as the perfect mom, but I’ve met and experienced some pretty darn good ones. Well all have our flaws. But that doesn’t mean we don’t try our best.
HappyMother’s Day to all my mommas. New Moms, old moms. Moms that are biological, moms that aren’t.Step moms, bonus moms. Adoptive, Mom-in-laws. The aunts and grandmas who are raising someone’s babies. There are all kinds of moms.Out there. And I know someone thinks you’re a good one, even if you don’t think you are sometimes.
This was not just your typical run of the mill every six months check up.
About six months ago, I came home from work, and the first thing my child said to me was, “mommy I fell but I’m not crying anymore!” Well that’s great honey.*looks at daddy* what the hell?
Baby daddy/spouse goes on to explain that Child was being her usual self and jumping on her little indoor trampoline (best worst purchase ever) and was told to be careful. Minutes later she fell. It’s been some time so I can’t remember the details but she bruised her chin but otherwise did not complain.
A few days later I was checking her teeth. I’m a paranoid momma and I wanted to a: make sure she didn’t hurt them and b: she was still a member of the no cavity club.
When I looked at her teeth, the first thing I noticed were her two bottom front teeth. They each had a dark line! I thought, “dear lort she’s cracked her two front teeth!”
But upon closer inspection, it turned out to be, I believe, markings left by her trampoline bar, when she fell. She said they didn’t hurt and were fine. So I sighed, “this child gonna kill me.” And I continued inspections.
That’s when we came to the root of the problem (ha). I first thought it was a cavity, as it was dark, and encompassed a large portion of her tooth. But, panic setting in, I used one of my flossers and cleaned it out. She’d eaten a brownie before and that was our fake cavity. The problem was: her tooth, a back tooth, didn’t look quite right.
My first thought was, oh no, my baby has tooth decay.
Good Dental Hygiene Wasn’t a Priority
Growing up in a lower income family? We didn’t have regular dental care. We couldn’t afford for a long time the “extra” insurance that was dental and vision, not until much later.
I remember when we got most of our dental work, was when dad was out of work and we were “on true draw”. Mom utilized that government insurance and took us all to get checked. Lort knew when we’d lose it, or when dad would have a a job, so, get while the getting is good.
It also wasn’t a priority to keep our teeth clean. At a certain age it becomes “if you wanna keep ‘em, you gotta clean ‘em”. I don’t recall a lot of being made to go brush. So as an adult I really want to instill the importance of good dental hygiene in my child.
The Child Grinds
Have you ever met a six year old who grinds their teeth?
Welp. Guess what Dr Dentist notices EVERY TIME?! Yup. Girl grinds her teeth. It’s not as often as it used to be. But it still happens.
So when we showed up for an out of regular schedule visit, I don’t expect him to take one look and say, “oh yeah, it’s where she grinds, she chipped it.”
Dude says what now?
Like, when? Where? Where did it go? Did she swallow it? Why? Huh? Of course my child…
These I didn’t ask. But I did ask, is there any way to stop the grinding? Nope. If she keeps it up into her adult teeth, she’ll need a mouth guard for the night.
The only option was to fix it, until broken tooth leaves and her permanent tooth comes in. With a cap.
Now, girl normally won’t even let them take an X-ray. I knew capping would be a battle.
Today was (supposed to be) the capping. She wasn’t having it from the X-ray to the green table. I admire and praise the dentist and his assistant for attempting but my girl was just a struggle. And it was a traumatizing experience. For both of us! They got far enough to put the material on, but she started to panic.
She has been scheduled for a sedation assisted procedure.
This one time when she wasn’t even walking, she swallowed a dime. She had to be put to sleep and scoped. That was five years ago.
Needless to say, momma is stressed from today and stressed just thinking about what’s to come! Luckily it’s over a month away so I can mentally prepare.
Here’s hoping it all goes smooth.
Thanks for Reading!
She told the assistant that the tooth cleaning stuff tasted like birthday cake and smelled like pickles. What time she wasn’t freaking out, she was being adorable.
From the time she was old enough to lift her tiny little hand my daughter had a thing about rubbing people’s noses and faces to fall asleep-especially mine. Now she’s four and a lot stronger and has a habit of pinching my nose closed, and hitting it. Not hard, but noses are tinder.
As hard as we try to break her she still picks her nose and eats it. Gross. I’m afraid she’ll get laughed at one day.
She’s super smart and loves to learn. I blame Daycare and YouTube Kids. I helped a little too. She’s got a good brain and learns fast.
Except for potty training. We’ve had lots of ups and downs. But maybe we will get there. Maybe.
She’s my whole world and I wouldn’t change a single moment with her. Not the poop, the nose slaps. Not the late nights or early mornings. Or those first six months where she barely slept at night and I was *this close* to jumping off a bridge.
I wouldn’t change a thing. I wouldn’t have another either. But I wouldn’t change a thing about the one I got!
She has two parents who love her very much, who love each other, and live under the same roof. And if, god forbid, her parents ever stop living together, they never stop wanting her happiness above all else.
Some children aren’t quite as lucky. Some children only live with one parent, some children live with grandparents. Some children have no parents at all. Some children’s parents fight with each other over who gets more time.
Some parents just want to love their children. I am very lucky. I get to move my daughter, daily, under the same roof as her and her father. I love them both and their happiness will never stop being important to me.
Sometimes children are better off when parents are separated. Because happier parents make for happy children. Some adults simply cannot get along. It happens. For whatever reason, two people who were together long enough to make a child cannot or should not be together. That happens.
But sadly the children can suffer. And sometimes a parent suffers. Step-parents suffer. Because sometimes those parents cannot be with their child as much as they used to, as much as they’d like to.
My daughter is very lucky, so am I and her father. I will always be grateful I found someone I love, and with that love we were able to create a life we will cherish.
Some families aren’t so lucky.
I hope sincerely that a permanent solution can come about that can be equally beneficial to all parties. Because no one likes a broken heart. But maybe we can live with scars, if we can find a way for everyone to be happy.
I truly hope that one person involved is doing what they’re doing for the right reasons. Because if not, in the long run, it’s the innocent that’s gonna get hurt.
Impotent rage: basically extreme anger that you can do nothing with.
I’m feeling it now, Mr. Crabs.
My kid is sick. I don’t know what’s wrong. She’s had a fever off and on all night. I don’t know how high, I just know that she goes from burning up to cool. And she will not let me put her down. I hope to god she’s teething.
I need to take her to the doctor. I need to make sure it’s nothing major.
But if I call in with another unexcused absence, I’ll get “coached”. If I get coached I will likely be fired.
Last time I called in, I’d been puking all morning. The time before that my child had a virus. I could not take her to daycare. E These were BOTH unexcused.
I don’t love my job. Once in a while I like it. I might even enjoy some days. More often than not, especially lately, I loathe my job. But I cannot afford to quit without another on the line, and I sure as heck do not want fired.
So you see my conundrum.
I was told, LAST TIME I got a “discussion” for unexcused absences, “let us know before hand if you need to miss, and we will do our best to help you out.” HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THAT?! Anticipate the day before? “Hey, I’m 50% sure my kid will need to see a doctor tomorrow, can I randomly take a day off without pay, just in case?”
And normally I would express my frustrations with the help of a Facebook post. But I deactivated that yesterday. So here I am dear blog followers.
And I’m holding a finally sleeping infant, so screaming is not an option.
Children are amazing creatures. They love with big hearts, hearts untouched by the misery of adulthood and still basking in the glory that is the blissful ignorance of what lies ahead.
I’ve only been a mother for a short while now. It’s not even been a year since I learned I would be. And already I have experienced and cherish my child’s superpower.
For all I know, it may only work on me, and possibly my husband. But I do know that her ability to make me smile, sometimes even through tears, is epic.
I was recently forced to come to a depressing conclusion. This conclusion broke my heart because it involved my relationship to someone I am very close too. As an adult, we have to come to the conclusion that things won’t always be fine and dandy between ourselves and those we love. We won’t always understand why. It is the why in my situation that I am still confused about, and I’m sure the other party isn’t likely to cave. Neither am I.
Despite my desire to “be done” with it and all it entails, my heart still breaks, I still find moments when the tears decide to come, regardless of where I am, who I’m talking to, or what I’m doing. I’m sure this will be the case until I move on, or the situation is resolved (I feel I’ll move on before there’s resolution).
But at the end of the day, no matter what’s gotten me down, the first and last person I think of is the one with all the power, the one with the superpower. My daughter.
Tonight when I got off work, almost thirty minutes late, I thought only of her. And I smiled. Even when we are apart, she can make me smile. I have been in tears, and she’s made me smile. In the first few weeks of her life, when she would not sleep, and I was so very tired, the tears came uncontrolled and of their own accord, as I held her. And then, hilariously, she farted. She passed an epic man sized burst of hot smelly air and then grinned. And I laughed. Through my tears, I laughed.
Her unintentional comedy, her sleep grins, and yes her manly flatulence, it all has a power over me that no other human being on this earth, past present or future may ever have again. Sure, I might have another child, and this possible future child may possess the same power, developed in the womb. But right now, the tiny sleeping human next to me can unknowingly change my very countenance.
It may be a very long time before I am over what’s happened. Its more likely that I may never be over it, not really. Do we ever really get over devastation? But until then, if then ever comes, I will hold my daughter close to me, kiss her cradle capped head, wrap my arms around her tiny form, and be greatly affected by her ability to change my mood.
It is truly a super power, for no other person has ever possessed such an ability. She is my ray of light on a darkened day, my sunshine. And she is my super hero.
After about six weeks away from my retail position, which I’ve had for nearly six years now, returning postpartum was bittersweet.
While savings hadn’t quite dwindled, I was glad to be making money again, though most would be going to paying off hospital bills. It was also good to start catching up with work friends.
But leaving tiny human at home, despite knowing my mom would take good care of her, was saddening. If I could have stayed home on a more permanent basis, I would have.
In six weeks I’d forgotten many things about working. Namely walking out to my car in the cold dark on sore legs and feet, and the stiffness and aches that came within hours. I’d been spoiled by pain free days and nights.
This morning I woke up with stiff and sore legs, ankles, and feet. Not pleasant.
Though my first day back was a good one, coming home in a good mood to see my baby after eight hours away was lovely. Walking in the house on sore limbs and waking with even more painful limbs was not fun.