Monday, December 29, 2008

I am the Hero

Of Guitar Hero, that is.

Who knew that a woman who knows nothing about rock-n-roll music would LOVE Guitar Hero? Dream of those little buttons and the strummer?

Y'all, I ROCK at Guitar Hero. I think it might be my favorite Christmas present.

We all love it. I went out to dinner with some friends tonight. When I got home, I could see H playing through the window and my heart was warmed.

So, I've asked myself. What is H's favorite Christmas present? Probably not the socks I got him. Most definitely not the bag of coal that was the gag gift for the year. Maybe his remote control helicopter. Then I realized. His favorite gift is the same as mine--and he gave it to me! He loves Guitar Hero as much as I do!!

M couldn't care less about Guitar Hero. Her favorite gift depends on the moment. She loves her playdough and will play with it for almost an hour. We're mean parents and only let her play with one color at a time. She loves her new books and has read each one several times. She loves her new kitchen and has cooked many a meal, prepared many a drink, many a snack in it. Then again, she's so proud of her new little dresses, particularly the one that matches her little cousin's. Or maybe her favorite gift is her UGA crocs from her uncle. She wore them today and was so proud.

So, it's hard to say around here. We're a pretty satisfied little family.

Any one want to challenge the Hero?

Drats

As I signed on, I realized it's My Best Shot Monday. I have tons of pictures to share, but they are all on the camera and I've got too much to do to take the time to upload and edit them, so they will continue to just sit on my camera. Maybe next week.

My life has been a little like that lately. A day late and a dollar short. Too much to do, not enough time. Not enough patience. Not enough quality time. Too much laundry, too many dishes, too much remote control button pushing.

I'm home with M again this week. I have the entire week off to spend time with her. My goal is to turn off the TV and engage with her! Have her help with the chores, have her play with the play-dough while I clean the table. Talk to her, sing with her, cuddle and read with her.

And catch up in this place, too. In between snuggles, of course.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Cooking

For those that know me, it's okay to stop laughing now. Yes, I actually cooked tonight. Not dinner, but other things.

Let me list them for you:
1. Homemade hot chocolate (Spiced Orange Hot Cocoa, to be exact--and something's not right. H is on the way to the store to buy something to fix it)
2. Tiger Bark
3. Bourbon Brown Sugar Mustard (from scratch--GO ME!!!!)
4. Breakfast Casserole for my teaching team
5. Cheese Spread
6. Cheese biscuits (My grandmother's recipe. It just doesn't feel right to make something that my grandmother is famous for!)

It only took me a record 4 hours to do all of that.

Tomorrow is our last day of school before the holidays. I always take goodies to the teachers on my floor. They are getting some Tiger Bark and Hot Chocolate. We're all bringing something yummy to eat so I made the breakfast casserole for us. Tomorrow is also Family Tradition day. That's why I made the cheese biscuits.

The mustard is for our family meal Saturday. The cheese spread is for H's Christmas party tomorrow night.

I'm going to bed now.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Another Hurdle

At 12:30 today I got heard the diagnosis that I thought surely I would not hear.

"Left, yes."

Loooooong pause.

"Bilateral, yes."

How could I have been so wrong? The guilt is wrapping itself around my heart and squeezing until I almost cannot breathe. I'm the mother. I'm supposed to KNOW these things about my child.

I feel so melodramatic on top of guilty. The guilt is making things razor sharp. Every raindrop feels like a pin prick. Every light seems a thousand times too bright. Every noise vibrates painfully inside my skull.

Today, M had her VCUG. I can not tell you how many people I told I was having the test run to satisfy the doctors. "She does NOT have kidney reflux," I told a million people. "I would know. I mean, she was 2 1/2 before she had her first UTI."

My stomach is still lying on that radiology floor where I heard the news. I wanted to pick M up and run far away from there. I wanted to whisper in her ear how very, very sorry I am that I didn't think she had it. That I've put the test off for so long. That if only I'd had the test done sooner, she wouldn't have had her UTI in October. I'm so sorry, sweet girl. Mommy was so wrong.

My reaction is bigger than the actual problem. We are waiting to hear from the pediatrician, who will send us to a pediatric urologist. We happen to be going to the big city next Tuesday to see M's orthopedist, so I am hopeful we can see the urologist that morning. I don't know if it will happen, but I am hopeful.

The first treatment (and perhaps the only treatment) is antibiotics. They will keep the bacteria from growing as the urine is returned to the kidneys from the bladder. Kidney reflux is a condition that most little girls outgrow.

I am so glad I requested (maybe even demanded) sedation for this test. Even in a sedated state, M fought that catherization with every cell in her body. It took several tries to get it done so they could even begin the test. The radiology lady who was doing the test looked up and said, "I am so glad she's sedated. I can't imagine trying this if she was conscious!"

I'm going to quiet my guilt, send it back to the closet where Mommy Guilt lingers, waiting to rear its ugly head.

And then I'm going to get on the phone to make appointments for my sweet little girl.

Friday, December 12, 2008

We're here

Just a quick update:

We're here.

M is doing great. She has a dr's appt Dec. 23rd to have her cast removed. She'll have her VCUG on Tuesday, December 16th. She's just as sweet and sassy as always.

I'm doing fine. Busy, busy, busy and looking forward to Sunday when I can finally spend some quiet time with M. Maybe we'll take naps together! Special treats for both of us!

Oh, speaking of special treats--well, actually this is a digression. I'm going to TRY to get rid of the paci during our trip to my parents' house for Christmas. I told M the other day that we're goign to leave her paci at home when we go to Nona and OB's house. There was complete silence on her part, then she hesitantly said, "OK." When I told her how big she is now and how proud I am that she takes all her naps with her paci, she got a little more (umm...less hesitant?) interested. I dropped her off at her cousin's house yesterday and I said, "M, tell Aunt A what you're going to leave at home when we visit Nona and OB." She said, "I'm going to leave my paci in my crib at home." So, maybe this is our big break! We'll see. I'll give you an update in a few weeks.

That's it for now. I'm off to paint some cow spots on a bean bag toss. It might be a few days before I get back. Not that cow spot painting takes that long. Just that we have that much going on for the next few days.

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Frustrated

or The Mother Who Should Be Ashamed

It's been 15 days since the surgery. Guess who's doing great? M. Guess who is at the end of her rope? The mother.

Since she can't use all her energy moving around, she uses it all talking. NON-STOP. And I can't take it anymore. I want to hide in the bathroom, soaking in the tub and drinking an entire bottle of wine.

"I want donuts.
Did you hear me?
I want donuts
Mommy, are you going to buy me donuts?
Mommy, the donuts are NOT this way. They are DAT way.
Dat way OVER DERE. NOT THIS WAY.
YOU FORGOT MY DONUTS.
YOU SAID YOU WERE BUYING DONUTS."

Well, actually. I might have said that, but kiddo, you sure didn't hear me BECAUSE YOU NEVER TOOK A BREATH.

My response was this:
"If you say the word donut ONE MORE TIME, YOU WILL NEVER EAT A DONUT AGAIN IN YOUR LIFE, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, YOUNG LADY?????"

Does anyone see a pattern here?

Let me give you another example.

M: "Mommy, what are you looking for now?"
Me: "Chocolate syrup" (Oh, we're on the pancake syrup aisle)
M: "Mommy, there is syrup. There it is RIGHT there. Do you see it? Mommy, you are walking past the syrup. The syrup was back dere. It is not this way. You are going the wrong way.
Mommy, you are still going the wrong way. Mommy, do you know where the syrup is? It was WAY back dere. You need turn around. Turn around RIGHT NOW."
Me: "M, if you tell Mommy what to do again, YOU WILL NOT HAVE CHOCOLATE MILK FOR ONE WEEK. DO YOU HEAR ME? DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME????"
M: *when we finally find the chocolate milk* "Mommy, you tricked me. You DID know where the chocolate syrup is! OH!"

Or this:
On our way out of the grocery store into drizzly rain.
"Mommy, I not allowed to get my cast wet. Do you know where our car is? I don't see our car. Do you remember where you put it? Mommy, are you listening to me? Do you hear me? Don't let that rainy sky get on me. You need cover me up. Put those foods on my leg so the water doesn't get near it. Find our car NOW. I NEED GET IN MY CAR. DO YOU KNOW WHERE OUR CAR IS? Put me in my car before you put the foods in the car. I wait QUIETLY. GET OUR CAR. YOU LOST OUR CAR. I TELL DADDY YOU LOST OUR CAR. DADDY GET MAD AT YOU. PUT ME IN OUR CAR NOW!!!!"

My aggravated response:
"Daddy will NOT be mad at me. He is going to be upset with YOU for being so unkind to Mommy. You need to use KIND WORDS TO MOMMY. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?????? Mommy doesn't want your cast to get wet either. I'm hurrying AS FAST AS I CAN (to get us home, I think to myself). You need to be PATIENT."

As I shove humble pie in my own mouth. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Perhaps I should be patient. Oh, and maybe talk a little more to her. The conversation might not escalate if I responded to her a little earlier.

I'm going to pour myself a hefty glass of wine to have with my humble pie. And I might decorate the Christmas tree when I'm a little calmer.

Only 19 more days. I can do this. I CAN DO THIS.