Monday, May 24, 2010

Why Didn't I Listen?

I've always trusted my gut instinct. If it doesn't feel right in my gut, I don't do it. If someone doesn't quite "click" with me, I trust that there is a reason I shouldn't have that person in my life. So why is it that when it came to my own child, I decided to ignore my gut instinct? I'm still kicking myself for it. Here's the story...

Within the first few days that Paige was born, I realized she was "tounge tied" - or that the frenulum under her tongue was connected all the way to the end. So she wasn't able to stick her tongue out - or breast feed correctly (hence the severe pain during nursing that I felt). When I asked the pediatrician, she said it was fine. I knew it wasn't. But I figured the pediatrician knew best. Actually, I somehow convinced myself that she would outgrow it. I know, I know. That doesn't make sense. But I thought that if it didn't need to be clipped, then maybe the tongue would stretch out on its own? Well - that's not the case.

So at her 4-month check-up I asked again.This time I was told it was "barbaric" to have a baby's tongue clipped. Barbaric?! My baby can't stick her tongue out! She couldn't nurse! The doctor implied that I was trying to do it for aesthetic reasons. Ummm... I may like clothes and make-up, but would I really put my daughter through a medical procedure that wasn't 100% necessary? To say the least, I was HIGHLY offended and angry that she wasn't taking my concerns seriously. Mama Bear mode officially kicked in.

I took the next few days to talk with family, experts and other moms - trying to figure out what my next steps should be. I ultimately decided to take Paige to a Pediatric Dentist for a consultation. Sure enough, they said it should have absolutely been clipped when she was first born. He consulted with a Pediatric Oral Surgeon, who felt that now that 5 months has passed, we should wait until she was closer to a year. Why? Because now she will have to be put under GENERAL ANESTHESIA for the procedure. Yes... you read correctly. Because it wasn't taken care of during the first few weeks, now my baby girl has to have major surgery.

I've decided to also have a consultation with a Pediatric Ear Nose Throat doctor. I feel they may have more experience administering anesthesia to babies... that appointment is in early June. Then I guess the next step is to schedule the surgery.

Throughout this process I have learned a HUGE lesson - and I hate that it is at the sake of my daughter's well-being. No matter what any doctor says... I know my daughter best. If I think there is a problem, there is. End of story. Never again will I let a doctor dismiss my gut instinct. I need to trust myself as a mama.

And as far as the doctor who told me I was barbaric for wanting my daughter's tounge clipped? Buh-bye. I've switched Pediatricians.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Ode to Mashed Bananas

Have you heard the rumor that Jennifer Aniston and Madonna are following the "Baby Food Diet" to stay skinny? It's something like 14 portions of pureed baby food a day. People are kind of grossed out by the concept, but seriously - I could totally survive off my baby's mashed bananas. They are delicious! I've been making my own baby food for the past few weeks and the mashed bananas are not only Paige's favorite, but mine as well : ) Today I made a new batch and somehow made too much to fit in the ice cube tray (and by "somehow" I really mean I purposely threw in a few extra bananas so I could save them for myself instead of stealing mini spoonfuls of my daughter's meal.) Now, if the Baby Food Diet involves pureed meats, then count me out. But I could totally do the peas, squash, apples, pears... or maybe I'm just delusional. What's next? Climbing into the ole' exersaucer for a workout? I wouldn;t put it past me.. : )

Monday, May 10, 2010

If You Give a Mom a Muffin

Today was a rough day. Not for any particular reason... other than the usual mama responsibilities: clean-up, pay bills, research doctors, cook, comfort, change diapers, feed, play, read... the list goes on and on : ) For some reason, I was just feeling overwhelmed. That was until I walked to the mailbox and opened the Mother's Day card from my mom. Inside was a great poem - "If You Give a Mom a Muffin" - that made me realize that ALL mamas have days like this... that no matter how much we try to make things go smoothly, there are always going to be hiccups. And spit-ups. : )

If You Give a Mom a Muffin
Written by Kathy Fictorie

If you give a mom a muffin,
She'll want a cup of coffee to go with it.
So she'll pour herself some.
The coffee will get spilled by her three year old.
She'll wipe it up.

Wiping the floor, she will find some dirty socks.
She'll remember she has to do some laundry.
When she puts the laundry in the washer,
She'll trip over some snow boots and bump into the freezer.
Bumping into the freezer will remind her she has to plan supper for tonight.

She will get out a pound of hamburger.
She'll look for her cookbook. (101 Things To Make With a Pound of
The cookbook is sitting under a pile of mail.
She will see the phone bill which is due tomorrow.
She will look for the checkbook.

The checkbook is in her purse that is being dumped out by her two year old.
She'll smell something funny.
She'll change the two year old.
While she is changing the two year old the phone will ring. (Of course!)
Her five year old will answer it and hang up.

She remembers that she wants to phone a friend to come over for coffee on
Thinking of coffee will remind her that she was going to have a cup.
She will pour herself some.
And chances are,
If she has a cup of coffee,
Her kids will have eaten the muffin that went with it.

Based on If You Give a Mouse a Cookie by Laura Numeroff

Friday, May 7, 2010

Poor Man's Pedicure

When I decided to be a stay-at-home mama, I knew I was going to have to cut back on some of the finer things in life in order to stay on budget. One thing that didn't make the cut was pedicures. Boo! But at $30-$40 a pop, they really add up! So for the past 4 months I've been doing my own pedicures. And by "doing my own" I really mean trimming back my eagle talon toenails and slapping some paint on them. I bought a pumice stone to use in the shower, but I might as well be rubbing day-old bread on my heels for the amount of "improvement" I have seen. Plus, when I do get a chance to paint my toenails, they end up smudging because what mama actually has time to sit and let her nails DRY! It's just not gonna happen.

So yesterday I was in CVS picking up some Schminfant Scmhylenol (aka generic-brand Infant Tylenol) thanks to the recall when I decided to take a stroll down the cosmetics aisle. I was initially going to purchase some quick-drying nail polish when I saw an interesting proposition - press-on toenails. Yes, I said it... press-on toenails. Remember those stick-on nails we used back in middle school to pretend we had luxurious red fingernails? So now they make them for toenails.They were the same cost as the quick-dry nail polish ($6) so I figured I would give it a shot. I put them on this morning and let me tell you - they are AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

First of all, they have improved DRAMATICALLY since the times of Lee Press-On Nails. No more flimsy stickers - you use full-on Crazy Glue to keep these suckers on. With the brand I purchased (Kiss) there were 30 different sizes, so I was able to find the perfect size for each of my toes. (BTW - totally found out my toes are VERY asymmetrical... had to use different sizes on each different toe) Once you figure out the right size for each toe, you slap some crazy glue on the back and stick it on. (Note: I got a little crazy with the crazy glue on the first toe, hence the glob of glue that will hopefully come off when I shower today). There is even a little nubby-thing to hold on to at the end of each nail for easier application. Then, the nubby-thing snaps off. The whole process took me about 20 minutes (which is about how long Paige can keep herself occupied without fussing) and now I have perfect toes. : ) YAHOOO! But now the true test... how long do they stay on for? The box said 10 days. AND - what condition are my toenails in when they do finally pop off. I figure they won't be any worse than before, that's for sure!

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

The Stinky Farm

Growing up, there was one stretch of road near my house that was unbearable to pass through during 6 months out of the year. See, on this road was a farm. A dairy farm. With LOTS of cows. And even more cow poop. My sister and I named this farm, "The Stinky Farm." As you were approaching the Stinky Farm, families would react as if they just found out radioactive materials were in the air. Windows were rolled up. Sunroofs closed. And air vents were turned to recirculate the interior air, rather than pull any contaminated air from the outside. Yes.. it was that bad. The smell of cow manure gagged even the strongest. The putrid air would get caught in your nose and lungs... not ceasing until mile or two past the farm.

So what does this have to do with being a mama? Oh, just wait...

Up until a few days ago, I had no problem changing my baby's diaper. Even the poopy diapers. It really didn't make me wince, gag or even think twice. So what changed? Two words: rice cereal. Once she turned four months I began to introduce rice cereal to her diet once a day. Now that she is starting to actually swallow it (vs. spitting it right out), her bowels have changed significantly. The sweet smell of formula is no more... yesterday when I opened her diaper I almost passed out. Seriously. I wondered if a cow from the Stinky Farm had snuck down to Atlanta, pooped in her diaper, and then put it back on her. Yes - my baby's poop now smells like cow manure. AHHHHHHH! You may be saying - How can two tablespoons of rice cereal create such a powerful odor? Well let me tell you - it does. And if rice cereal is bad, I can only imagine what peas, apples and - oh no - meats, will do.

Today I went for a walk with Paige and Lenni LuLu (the dog). It was a GORGEOUS day! But when I returned home and opened the door, I was hit with that smell. POOP! I gagged. I wrinkled my nose. And I acknowledged - my house is now the Stinky Farm. Febreeze, anyone?!