Showing posts from October, 2009

Post Pediatrician Ramblings

I took some kids to the doctor today. One had a well-visit. Three had to get flu shots. One had to be checked for wheezing, a follow-up to a visit two weeks ago. That's a lot of stuff, right? Well, that's nothing compared to the to-do list I left with. Check this out: -- Get eye exam for one kid. (Poor thing bombed her in-office eye exam...just like her momma!) -- Get chest xray for one kid. -- Get KUB xray for one kid. -- Fill prescription -- two different meds -- for one kid -- Get over the counter meds for one kid. -- Bring one back in a month. In the next 5 weeks, four of my kids will have their regular well-visits. Some people think of November and December as the Holiday Season. I think of those months as "Time to Reconnect with My Pediatrician Season." Which is nice, because I have a wonderful pediatrician, and love chatting with her. How many of you are facebook friends with your pediatrician? See, she's just that awesome. In fact, she's

Hook and Eye

Not very many people use hook and eye latches anymore. They're a bit outdated, I suppose. But there are two in my mom and dad's house, and I love them. Lest you think I have some strange attachment to bits of metal, let me tell you the story of how they came to be on the doors of the two bathrooms in my childhood home, and then you will know why I love them. * * * My mom and dad hosted my wedding reception in their backyard. It was a gorgeous June day. Early that morning, the preparations began, with family, friends and workers carting tables and chairs, spreading linens, and readying the BBQ. It was a lively, crowded scene. Two of our guests, our friends Margaret and Lola, arrived to dress, having driven up early in the morning in more comfortable clothes. Both were in the category of our "older" guests, and because of this, I was especially concerned about their comfort. They were also extremely honored guests; they have both had a profound, wonderful i

Raising Environmentalists

While I admire your commitment to the creed of "Reduce, Reuse, Recycle," I would much rather have you toss your empty Capri Sun pouch instead of saving it to use as a whoopie cushion. He does get 10 points for creativity, though. * * *

Rain on the Roof

I have learned my appreciation of poetry from my husband. Being a lover of books and literature in general, I've always liked poetry well enough, but have never really delved into the genre with enthusiasm. That is, until meeting and marrying the father of my children. He loves poetry. He loves the art, the craft, and maybe most of all, the marriage of sound and meaning. I had never really thought about the sounds of poetry before hearing him wax eloquently about the repetition of consonants or the rhythym of iambic pentameter. I just thought poetry was nice and rhyme-y. Except for the stuff that didn't rhyme, which I admit baffled me a bit. But Rick has introduced me, and our offspring, to the pleasure of sounds -- and really, sounds do take us places, don't they? I think of the deep delight I take in the sound of rain on the roof while I am cozy beneath blankets...or the rush of the creek next to my girlhood home after a big rain...or the crunch of car wheels p

Don't Report Me

Although I am definitely guilty of Blog Neglect, I am throwing myself at your mercy and begging you not to call BPS on me. Blog Protective Services. Those people could revoke my blog-ental rights and possibly even remove my blog from my home! Look, I know I can do better, be better. Give me another chance. Send me to some classes or training or something. Don't make me talk to a judge, who sees too many cases of Blog Neglect to give bloggers like me a fair shake. I am better than this. Please let me prove it. Signed, A blogger with the firm resolve to, you know, actually blog. Sometime soon. When work slows down. Or the kids grow up and move out. Or the earth moves under my feet. Or I just make the damn time. * * *

Support the Public Option

Another cut and paste from; please join me! * * * After months of delay, the full Senate is about to debate and vote on landmark health care legislation. But first, Senator Harry Reid and Democratic leaders have a big decision to make: Will the Senate consider real health care reform with a public health insurance option, or a watered-down compromise full of giveaways to Big Insurance? I just signed a petition asking Sen. Reid to include a strong public health insurance option in the Senate's health care bill. Will you join me at the link below? Click here to sign the petition! Thanks! * * *

It Must Be So Easy to Raise French Children

Today, I asked my three year old to put away her bowl and spoon. "No" is what I got in return. That and these gems: "I'm not gonna." "La la-la la-la la, you can't make me." "I hate you." Lots of these responses came from an upside-down mouth, as she repeatedly stood on her head (on the couch cushions), and bounced up and down like a crazed squirrel. There must be very few vocations that require as much on your feet creativity as parenting does: I had to work hard to come up with new and effective ways to get her to carry her bowl and spoon into the kitchen that did not involve using a choke hold, damaging my vocal chords, or promising her a pony. It was not easy. 15 minutes of my life are now a foggy, misty blur because I sacrificed them to the intense concentration necessary to get what I wanted from her while avoiding the aforementioned prohibitions. The bowl and spoon ended up where they belong, and I lost minutes off of my

Not My Path to Sainthood

Judging by the intense resentment I feel for every single one of my offspring today, laundry-as-devotion will never be my entre into beatification. But then again, how is it that I can have so little gumption, so little courage, that when I face a day determined to conquer the laundry and the dustbunnies that I last until just after lunch before giving up completely? At least I lasted until 3:47 before I cracked open a cold one. That has to count for something. Probably not towards spiritual enlightment, but maybe towards being a more bearable mother? I'll take it. * * *

Unlikely Blessings

I have a friend who once told me that she sees laundry as a spiritual exercise. Yes, you read that correctly. This comes from a mother of four young boys, who most certainly has a larger-than-most-families laundry case load. And she's not some rose-colored glasses, put-a-happy-face-on-everything mom. She's real, she's gritty, she yells as much as I do, she loses patience like we all do, and she loves her kids truly, madly, deeply. I think about her laundry prayer often when I am faced by incomprehensible piles of clothes, colassal mountains of dirty dishes, and family life detritus on every conceivable surface. Keeping up with this household feels so burdensome at times. But I aspire to my friend's brand of devotion to taking care of the things that take care of everyone else. The tasks are truly thankless and never-ending. And yet, they are vital to everyone in the family. If I can do them with some semblance of grace, patience, devotion, presence...maybe the

Just Wait

Just wait, you brand new parents, traveling through Safeway in your new baby fog. Just wait until that mushy little bundle is 5 years old and demanding sugar. * * * The other day, I took my 4 (almost 5) and 2 year olds to Safeway for a little shoppin'. It was the night before Samuel's birthday, and around here, birthdays are an occasion for sugary cereal. We don't buy sugar cereal except when we have a birthday, and then, the person of honor gets to pick one. He picked Fruit Loops. So there I was, in the produce section of Safeway, with IT and OTHER IT, who were both, at 5:30 in the evening, a tad wild. Along came the new parents . Mom, looking all glowy and soft, like a clean, downy pillow that has just been punched, fluffed, and smooshed into maximum comfortability. Dad, wearing the baby sling, with Newborn Miracle snuggled contentedly inside. The two (or rather three) of them were strolling through the veggies and fruit, doing that slow, ethereal walk one doe