iStroller

The weather finally took a turn this week and summer just might be around the corner. My Mom and I met for a walk at a local park earlier in the week. She brought the 2 year-old boy she is a nanny for and I had Little Bee.

The park we visited was just brewing with people itching to get some fresh air, exercise and sun rays. The birds were chirping, the sky was a beautiful blue and the temperature was just perfect.

There were people fishing in the river, a few joggers plodding happily along, some cyclists just as happy but going faster and many children playing on the playground. In my estimation, all seemed right with the world.

The park has a paved pathway with a little over a 1.5 mile serpetine loop. If I had my drothers I would have walked around the path at least 2 or 3 times to really soak up the scenery…except for the screaming child in the stroller my hands were attached to.

Ah yes, this put the brakes on my idea of fun that morning. I thought surely she would fall asleep. Okay, didn’t happen. Didn’t she know there were several toys for her to play with? Plunk! There falls another plastic teether on the concrete. She had a clean diaper. She was very well fed (it is truly remarkable how much this little missy packs away!)

And then my Mom had an idea. The all great and powerful iPhone entered in to our stroll.

I do not have an iPhone so this thought would not have occured to me. My mother however is hip to the technology everyone seems to have and is not afraid to use it.

Imagine the scene: on the path by the river’s edge, beneath a huge and gorgeous old willow tree with ducks swimming by the 2-year-old took the iphone, searched for a cartoon, queued it up, and handed the phone to Bee in her stroller. She then took it, held it and started happily watching the cartoon. Unbelievable, hysterical and pathetic to me all at the same time. And yes, her crying routine was long forgotten…until I had to take it away because she had put the phone in her mouth and was eating it instead. Atta girl.

Love Letter to Mom

Thank you for letting me back in the house when I packed up my corduroy briefcase from Grandma and “ran away” from home because macaroni and cheese wasn’t on the menu that night.

How cool are you for helping me color my hair when I was 14? Except for the time we got it so wrong and you took me to the high-end salon to be sure it was fixed right.

By putting in a good word for me at your long-time employer it ultimately led me to my husband.

Passing along the special red plate tradition as a marker of an achievement or birthday made a lasting impression.

Did you know that the Irish Lullaby you used to sing to our two oldest is the Lullaby they now sing to Baby Girl?

For having the most optimistic outlook on life yet still knowing time and again how to respond to my glass half-empty rants is perfect.

When you can’t stop laughing from something being funny, I can’t seem to either.

To this day, the chicken and biscuits you made the day we brought our firstborn home from the hospital ranks among the best home-cooked meals we’ve ever had.

Despite the additional paper coming in to my house, (!) the numerous magazine and newspaper articles, coupons and deals you want to share is endearing and thoughtful.

The first person who calls me in anticipation of a good story from an event, a trip or an overall momentous occasion is you. I’m looking forward to hearing about your latest road trip.

I love that you love fashion, fun and being young. Age is just a number and you are timeless.

O mystical radio contest winner…from the year’s supply of bubble gum in the 70’s to the Disco cruise we snorted through a few years ago, how do you do it? I can never get through!

By encouraging me to travel, try new things and be joyful about it, you have created a lifelong appreciation for what anticipation can mean. And it is priceless.

You have established yourself as the master bingo caller, VCR operator, consignment shop treasure finder, wine glass connoisseur, beef roll-up maker and rocking chair baby whisperer.

And you have always modeled what it is to be a good daughter, sister, wife and friend. And in doing so you have made it possible for my life to have more meaning.

Three Cheers for you Mom. Repeated daily.

Love, Me

It’s A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

It is 12:20 a.m. I am sitting on the couch, head rolling back and eyelids barely able to stay open from sheer exhaustion. Am I drooling? I may be. Ice is face down on a quilt on the carpet having since konked out moments ago. Daniel Tiger, an adorable animated television program based on the works of Fred Rogers, is on the TV. (We have no less than 6 episodes taped for Little Bee). My party girl is tentatively making her way around the coffee table with her tiny steps, slowly, one at a time. Did I mention she is also shaking maracas? Oh yes, cue the Mariachi band…

How did we get here?

Less than 36 hours before I had three paramedics and a police officer in my living room. I am so grateful I have never had to call 911 in my life – until this week.

My “micro-napper” Bee took a three and a half hour nap on Monday and I just knew when she woke up something was not right. She was so out of it and VERY warm. She is usually ready with a smile and a bounce in her step. But she took a long time to wake up. After awhile I called the doctor and wondered “Is this fever from teething?” She had been cutting a tooth for the last week and it had seemed to be mildly uncomfortable for her. After talking with a nurse and getting some advice I hung up the phone.

But wait…she seemed to be getting warmer by the minute. Her lids were droopy and she was getting kind of listless. What is going on??? my brain was screaming to me.

I took her temperature a second time…and a third…it seemed like it was climbing. I called the doctor back and spoke to the receptionist. I waited and I waited for a nurse to answer my call.

With Bee in one arm, I balanced the cordless phone on one shoulder and picked up my cell phone to call Ice. “Something is not right” I said in a panic. He calmly told me to call 911.

Ice would rather rip out his fingernails than have to make a trip to the Doctor. “Rub some dirt on it!” I have heard him say tougue-in-cheek when a minor injury occurs. So the mere fact that he advised me to make that call kind of freaked me out. I hung up with him and dialed that dreaded number.

Techno and Twinkle Toes were downstairs playing. I needed to inform them of the call I just made. This brought great panic to their eyes and caused me to have to verbally re-enact the scene from the movie Moonstruck when Cher slaps Nicolas Cage and says “Snap out of it!”

I remembered thinking how odd it was that I heard the siren, knowing it was coming for my daughter. Just that morning I had looked out my kitchen window and seen an ambulance speeding down the road, siren blaring and wondered “Where is that going today? Who needs it?” Having NO idea just hours later I would be relying on it myself.

To their credit, my two older children were on the phone with my husband at this time keeping him informed while he raced home. I was so proud of them.

The ambulance arrived very quickly. The doorbell rang and I answered it with Bee in my arms. After taking vitals, noting how she seemed to be more alert than what I had witnessed before they came (I had given her some Ibuprofen at the advice of the nurse the first time) and seeing her demeanor change just a hair…the paramedic was able to offer me some relief that maybe this sudden spike in temperature was something other than life-threatening and it would be manageable.

I declined to have her ride in the ambulance. I promised to follow-up with our pediatrician and I kept repeating over and over how utterly stupid I felt for calling.

The police officer who had a 15-month old kept making references to similar situations with her little one and offering her best advice to calm me and relate to me as a mother. It was extremely helpful and welcomed at a time like this. None of them made me feel bad for calling, assured me that it was okay and eventually departed – sure to offer phenomenal assistance in some other desperate situation.

As it turned out from what we can tell, Bee fought off a virus of some sort for a few days. She had no other symptoms but a sudden onset of a fever.

I was surely tested this week. But was offered the best care and concern for Bee from the first responders, support from my family and friends and the best part is that she is doing well. It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

There’s No Place Like Mom

My milestone birthday girls’ trip I’ve been planning for 6 months complete with grueling half marathon in the steamy Florida heat is here. I can’t remember now – I wanted to celebrate this way why? Five days without laundry piles, mounds of dishes, poopy diapers, chauffering, pouring rain and chill and early morning wake-up calls. Ah yes, it’s coming back to me…

However, the prospect of coordinating childcare, grocery shopping and making sure Ice knows what to take to the babysitters’ house is slightly daunting. Communicating Little Bee’s food preferences and semi-nap schedule (I say semi- because if I told you childcare providers that she doesn’t nap regularly would you still have taken her?) Trying to make time to pack and needlessly putting pressure on myself to find time to “air dry” after I slap orange lotion on my body to make it look like I am tan when clearly I am white as rice and from Wisconsin is ridiculous (I can see that now! Heck, I could see it then but I still wanted to do it anyway)!

But the coup de gras is the anxiety I am harboring that my house could not function without me for 5 days now that we have a baby again. A couple of years ago sure I would miss Techno and Twinkle – a lot. But they can actually wake up and pour their own bowl of cereal and handle the ins and outs of a bathroom quite well. What happens if the drippy nose Little Bee started to get before I left turns into something more serious? What if she finally starts crawling and I miss it? What if she won’t take her bottle? Afterall she’s still a breastfed baby.

And don’t even get me started on how much pressure I put on myself to ensure that when I got on that plane bound for home that I had the “liquid gold” that all nursing Moms protect and defend to the death. It really was remarkable the federal case I made out of this issue. There were friends, family, flight attendants, TSA agents and as Ice likes to joke “the interweb” weighing in on my conundrum of how to transport Bee’s hot commodity on the airplane and intact when I arrived home. I discussed it on the phone, at the babysitter’s, on the treadmill training for the race, in my kitchen over a glass of wine with friends and I’m sure numerous other places I have now forgotten.

In the end, it wasn’t the dry ice that I secured ( a “hazardous material”) that caused the TSA agents at the airport to frown. It was the bottled water I hadn’t emptied before I went through! Geesh!

So now is my public THANK YOU to all who endured the repeated and I’m certain dreaded conversations of me brainstorming out loud about it – you know who you are!

And for all the worry? As Ice reminded me before I left, “Honey, I run a company, I got this!” And as always, so he did.

The washer and dryer were empty as was the laundry basket on top. The dishes were done. And my personal catch-all spot in the kitchen was spotless. Even my baby who I feared might be getting cranky beyond consoling from missing her Mama took a moment to warm-up to me when she first saw me. She gave me a look like….”Mmmmm, you look familiar but I can’t quite place you!” Afterall, how far back does a 10 month-old baby’s memory really go? I can now say it is dangerously close to 5 days!

So once again I learn that all the worry and undue stress is all for naught. My family gets along fine without me. I think it is my ego that suffers the most!

To Be Continued…

Gimme a (Spring) Break!

It is Spring Break for my 10-year old son and 8-year old daughter, heretofore referred to as Techno (for his affinity for his laptop, my cell phone and the occasional X-Box session) and Twinkle Toes (it’s obvious, right?) We are not in the -land, -world, -shores. -beach or anything remotely vacation sounding this week. We are at HOME. Gasp! Does anybody do that anymore??

Each morning I still get up at 6:30am because my smallest creation, 9 month-old Little Bee doesn’t know it is Spring Break and she has no notion of sleeping in. As this week’s cruise director I am reminded each morning that Techno and Twinkle’s friends are not home. My favorite phrase du jour…What are we going to do today?

It is an act of Congress to get Little Bee fed, take a shower and do some light housework (by light I mean make sure that the dishes do not reach the ceiling, ditto the laundry). I have found that by the time I accomplish these tasks it is almost time for the next meal and the ensuing “light housework”.

Meanwhile when my mind can take a millisecond to wander I envision the scores of families enjoying a toe in the sand, a ride on the teacups or a splash from Shamu. Back to the dishes…

Easter weekend kicked off with the climax of my own terrible sinus and congestion issues. Twinkle experienced some major gastrointestinal upset. And in between her heaves, Techno and I decorated Easter eggs. Peter Cottontail still had to make a stop at our house and as is customary hide the eggs that we color.

My dear husband, Ice (the love of my life and my In Case of Emergency) coughed and sputtered his way through the weekend only to find out Monday morning that he had his first case (and hopefully the last!) of pneumonia.

And before I know it it is Sunday and Spring Break is fast coming to a close. What have we done?

Well I can report that I had some great couch time relaxing with Ice. I enjoyed a more complex than advertised sewing craft with Twinkle and a nice walk in the chilly air with Techno and Little Bee (WHEN will Spring come to the Midwest??) I managed to ignore most of the housework that desperately needed doing, showed Little Bee the finer points of riding my knees like an airplane and was taught a new card game by Twinkle. We enjoyed the Final Four games with good friends (go Wolverines!) and busted a few moves with Just Dance Greatest Hits.

I am thoroughly sick of watching the dust bunnies float by and if I am subjected to one more laugh track on a Disney show I will most certainly feel the need to scream. But damn I sure do enjoy the company I keep. Can we do this again next week? I’m just not ready to deal with the bunnies – dust not Peter Cottontail.