A Personal Discovery

Over the last few weeks as I explore myself and my habits with my sponsor I have learned a lot about myself. Some stuff I've always known. Some stuff I've known but blocked with denial and other stuff have been completely new to me. I am only beginning this journey.

I've always known I like to have things my own way. But it's one thing to know it in your head and know it in your heart.

Today something happened that might of opened up my heart to it, at least a little bit. Baseball Boy has had a wart on his knee for a while. We tried freezing it with over the counter products but all it did was respond by growing bigger.

Last week we finally admitted defeat and I called the doctor to make an appointment to have it removed. The appointment was this morning. Last Friday afternoon while sliding into second base the wart tore right off. I wasn't there, The Engineer was at the game with him, but reports were that he was okay until other parents started freaking out. In case you didn't know warts bleed a lot. They got the bleeding controlled and he stayed to cheer his team on for the rest of the game but for him the game was over.

This morning at the doctors office the nurse tells us it's better to cut it off then freeze it. They will numb his knee cut it out and then freeze the root. Most of it was torn off anyway and it made sense.

The doctor comes in and she's on a mission. This one didn't waste any time with small talk. Baseball Boy is being brave until she turns around with a syringe, clear liquid dripping from the end of the needle. She wasted no time in going for the knee with the needle. Baseball Boy reaches over and grabs onto me. She takes his leg and just gives him the shot. There are some tears but no hysterical crying. After the knee is numb (which is almost instantaneous) she gets a flexible razor and shaves that thing down. Before I know it she's spraying the spot with the freezing stuff (that's the technical term ;-) ). Explains what to expect and we're done. Both the nurse and the doctor tell Baseball Boy how great he did and leave.

Baseball Boy is fine. I on the other hand am ready to freak out. Not from the blood or the procedure. But because all that happened so fast. They had explained what they were going to do, no surprises there. But when Baseball Boy reached over and grabbed onto me I wanted to stop. Right there and calm him down. When she didn't I felt powerless.

I couldn't wait to get out of the office. I felt like I was about to freak out. I had no control in there, the resulting feelings overwhelmed me. Normally if something like that happens I would bee line it for food. Now I know I can't do that. I have to face the feelings not cover them over.

We get in the car and I ask Baseball Boy how he is. I'm expecting him to be as freaked out as I am. His response surprised me. He said that it wasn't too bad. That he liked the doctor. I asked him why he grabbed me when she came at him with the needle. I thought it was because he wanted her to stop but he told me he just needed to hold all of me and not just my hand. Stopping her would have made it worse for him not better. Stopping her would have only made it better for me because I thought I had to stop her for him. He didn't need that. I needed to control the situation not let Baseball Boy and her control the situation.

I know as his parent it is my job to protect him. But I'm always preaching how you have to let them protect themselves with your guidance. I didn't let him do that, I did what I needed, yeah I thought it was what he needed but I didn't listen to him. He didn't say stop or try to get away after she grabbed his leg. He just rolled to the side and grabbed me.

So I learned a lot today. Baseball Boy applied what I had already taught him. I am proud of him for that. I am proud of myself for seeing that it wasn't about me having to control the situation to make it okay for him, even if it took me time to figure it out. It still took me a while to relax over my lack of control in the doctors office. I'm not totally over it yet. But I see it and that's the first step.

Book Review- Kids and Power Struggles

Kids, Parents, and Power Struggles Winning for a Lifetime by Mary Sheedy Kurcinka

Hope you're not expecting something literary. Because you're not going to get it.

I didn't finish the book. Too much on my plate and no time to read. I got about half way through it. I think the problem isn't with the book, it's with me. I'm just not in the mood for educational reading. If I have time to read I want to escape into a story right now. So I'm going to put it down. In the future I'll return and finish it. It wasn't a difficult read, overly wordy or condescending to parents or kids.

What I read had some very interesting ideas for dealing with the melt downs that occur with children. Some of the stuff I read was common sense, like taking a hungry kid into a grocery store is asking for trouble. Well yeah, me going into a grocery store hungry is asking for trouble.

But it did go on to say that when children melt down there is a reason behind it. That meltdowns and the sister to meltdowns, the temper tantrum, are not done by children to make us miserable or because we suck as parents. And to solve the problem of ongoing meltdowns you need to identify the triggers. It gave several examples to help you get to the bottom of the problem.

The last chapter I read talked about older kids and how they start to rebel. It gave an interesting example of how a woman wanted to ride her son's new bike. He got very upset and started yelling at her that he didn't want her riding his bike, that it was his, blah, blah, blah. I think we can all get the picture of the selfish teenager in our head. When the mother spoke to her son about why he didn't want her riding the bike instead of just writing him off as self absorbed teenager she found that he didn't mind her riding the bike but didn't want kids at school seeing her riding his bike. So he's not a selfish brat he just didn't want to get teased by the kids at school. I'm sure when I get back to the book it will go into further detail about this very trying time in the parent/child relationship.

There is a section of the book that talks about the author's workshops with parents who are having struggles with their children. The parents speak about what issues they were having and how some of them got to the bottom of it and how others were still trying to make the connection.

I definitely see the value in this book. If you have on and off again problems along these lines maybe a trip to the library would be in order for this one. If you have kids that seem to be one long line of meltdowns and power struggles this book would definitely be worth the purchase price.

I'm off today!

I only get one a year and today is the day. It's take your child to work day. All three kids were up at 5AM and left for work with The Engineer at 6AM. After work they will all go out to dinner together and won't be home until about 7:30 or so.

When they get home they will all collapse with exhaustion and for a period of time will appreciate how hard their father works.

I don't know who came up with the idea of Take Your Child to Work Day (I think it started as take your daughter to work but the politically correct police fixed that) but I'd like to shake their hand. Not just for my day off but because it gives kids a chance to see that parents aren't just hanging out to collect a paycheck.

My husband's employer is terrific when it comes to this day. They have a whole program set up so the kids really get to see how things work there, not just spend the day looking over their Dad's shoulder at something they don't understand. Of course that is built into the day too but when they come home they really have gotten to see how it all works and comes together.

I love Take Your Child to Work Day!

How the heck did a full time working Mom wind up being a homeschooling SAHM? Part 2-Live or Die

Some people say if they didn't have bad luck they'd have no luck at all....

I think that's a load of crap. I'm more of an everything happens for a reason type person. As you've probably figured by now the rabies test came back positive. I had been bitten by a rabid cat. And just to make it a little more interesting 3 days had gone by between the time of the bite and when we found out.

I get my hiney over to the hospital to start the rabies vaccine series. The doctor was pissed. Why did I wait three days? Do I know that once symptoms start you're dead? You should have come over right after you were bitten. Okay already! So what should I be looking for? Numbness and/or tingling at the bite site is one of the early signs. The problem with that symptom was I had that before I was bitten. Years of typing while entering emergency calls for dispatch had left me with a well established case of carpel tunnel syndrome. They said it would travel up my arm if it was rabies. So how long until I know for sure if I didn't start the shots in time. Ten days. So in ten days I'll know. Live or die. I spent a lot of time thinking about those three little words; live or die.

One of my only true fears is dying before my children are grown. Now I was facing that head on. The question was, had I given them everything I could while I had the chance? I didn't like the answer. Ten longs days and ten sleepless nights. Did I have regrets? Would I get a second chance?

Up until that time I was pretty darn pleased with the way things were going in my life. I honestly believed that if I died I would have no regrets. So why when that became a real possibility did all my answers change. Did I just not know better or was it denial of my true feelings? To this day I'm not really sure.

So ask yourself. If you died tomorrow, what would you regret? What didn't you do? I know some people who are making up lists of things they want to do before they die. I think it's kinda neat and might just do it myself. But a much more interesting list would be what do I need to change in my life right now so that I would have no regrets dying tomorrow. The lists may overlap in places but my goal would be to have nothing on the regrets list and something always on the to do list.

I'm still here. The shots were not fun but not as bad as I'd heard they would be. I was grateful they were available. The worst part was getting lectured by the doctors everytime I had to go to the ER to get the next in the series.

To this day I don't know why I went to work everyday during those ten days. I guess there was still a chunk of denial in the way. I certainly would not regret missing work if I was going to die. So why would I waste what little time I had left there. But I didn't ask those questions right away. In fact, it was almost 18 months later before I did.

That time I paid attention.....

How the heck did a full time working Mom wind up being a homeschooling SAHM? Part 1- Workaholic?

Hello, my name is Rusty's Mom and I'm a workaholic. I could picture myself standing in front of a group of others saying those words. Now is it denial or reality when I say, not really? I enjoyed my job but I also enjoyed my home time and looked forward to spending time with my husband and children. I mostly enjoyed making my own money, having the security. What if The Engineer died suddenly or found some cute hottie and I was left to raise three young children alone? Even BK (before kids) work was a huge part of my identity. I was a 911 dispatcher and had been for 21 years and worked at the vet's office too. I never hesitated to take home the on-call pager to pick up a little overtime either.

Helping people and animals and making decent money doing it. A great husband and three cool kids. The best dog ever. My life was sweet. Exhausting but sweet.

Because I worked 12 hour days the kids were only in day care two days one week and three days the next. It felt like a perfect balance between work and home. It also gave The Engineer full time parenting days because I worked every other weekend.

So what happened to change all this? Actually, it was two things. It started back when hubby and I decided to add another two legged kid to our family. That kid turned out to be Baseball Boy. But before conception occured I was bitten by a cat at the vets office. The cat was very ill when it was brought in. A family found it as a stray and wanted to help it. During the exam the cat bit me on the hand, drawing blood. Two days later the cat passed away and because of it's symptoms and subsequent death the vet decided to have it tested for rabies.

Some people say if they didn't have bad luck they'd have no luck at all....

Evil lurkes in the maternity ward...cont

A short time later she returns with a bag full of stuff. I don't remember where he went or why but The Engineer wasn't in the room when she returned. So she starts by informing me that I must wear this suction cup device on my nipples at all times when I'm not feeding. She then proceeds to grab my breast and apply it. Holy shit woman that hurt could you of warned me ahead of time. She is obviously insulted. I guess she feels like I should shut up and suck it up. She then asks me what type of breast pump I purchased. I hadn't gotten one because a good friend with three kids told me not to buy one right away and the hospitals had ones to use if I needed it. That way I would be able to find out what I really needed before I spent all that money. She looked at me like I had just said the stupidest thing she had ever heard. She informed me that I needed to send my husband out right now to purchase one so I would have it available immediately. After that little lecture she pulls out the next trick in her bag of horrors. I don't remember exactly what it was but she squeezed my nipple and I reacted by smacking her hand away. I didn't even think about it, I just did it. She immediately started telling me how I needed to gain control of myself because my emotions would just make it harder for the baby to relax and nurse. Still trying to hold it together for the sake of my child I apologized and let her continue to torture me. At some point I had enough and told her I needed to be alone for a while and just work on this on my own. She said she come back in a little while to help me try to get the baby to latch on. I told her that wouldn't be necessary and the nurses could help me. Once again I got another one of those looks. I burst into tears. At that very moment The Engineer walks into the room, takes one look at me and a look of astonishment crosses his face. That is quickly replaced by anger. This man can probably count on one hand the number of times he's seen me cry in 24 years. He turns to the "The Lactation Consultant" and asks her to please leave. She starts to say something and he cuts her off and informs her that her services will no longer be needed. I don't know if it's the tone of his voice or me crying in the background but she hightails it out of there. After I regained some control I told him the whole story. I finally talked and cried it all out and he asked me what I wanted to do. I took a deep breath and asked him to go get some bottles of formula from the nurses and ask them for any information they had on bottle feeding. He returned 5 minutes later with one of the nurses and a box full of bottles. The nurse asked me if I was okay and if I was sure this was what I wanted. She gave me a couple of pamphlets on bottle feeding, helped me get in a comfortable position with the baby and left us alone to peacefully feed her. I then burped her, swaddled her up and she slept peacefully for the first time since she was born.

The Engineer gathered up the medieval devices left behind and threw them away.

After taking a much needed nap we made a list of what we would need to bottle feed and The Engineer went shopping.

I'd love to say I never looked back. The truth is I beat myself up over my "failure" for a long time after The Scientist was born. But as she grew I realized there were going to be many things that didn't work out the way I planned. In spite of it she was growing up to be a happy and healthy kid.

I don't tell to many people I bottle fed because there are so many women out there who just need to tell me that I didn't do what was best for my child. Maybe not but I'll tell you that by doing what was best for me I did what was best for them. The Engineer got to "bond" with our children by feeding them too, that is a gift he wouldn't of had if I hadn't failed.

Evil lurkes in the maternity ward

When I was pregnant with my first, like most parents, we wanted to do everything right. The problem with "right" is it keeps changing. The other problem with "right" is some people think they are right and no one else could possibly be right.

We got sucked into all sorts of things that we must have if we are going to be able to successfully raise this delicate being to adulthood (and some would say beyond). Wipe warmers, bassinets, portable cribs, slings to carry them, changing tables, a diaper bag with 15 pockets, baby washcloths and towels, a matching crib sheet/comforter set with matching wallpaper border, a little mirror so you can watch the little cherubs while driving, neck supporter for the car seat, toys to hang from the car seat handle so they have something do (overscheduling starts in infancy), Baby Einstein videos (or else there goes Harvard), special diapers that keep baby extra dry, enough safety gadgets to protect even the most adventurous child and a hermetically sealed diaper pail so no one gets a whiff of what goes there. Oh my, I got carried away, sorry about that.
Also available are books on every topic you can imagine related to the gestation, birthing, and raising of said child.

Now some of these new fangled things are good. Car seats are the best thing that ever happened to child safety. If you get past the environmental effect, disposable diapers rock.
But the biggest push for making your baby all she can be was breastfeeding. The stories were everywhere. Breastfeeding improved IQ, prevented eczema, decreased gastrointestinal problems (unless mommy loves legumes or Mexican food), protected them from dreaded diseases, facilitated bonding, it's a list that goes on and on.

I had decided that come hell or high water I was going to breast feed this kid. I wasn't going to risk harming her in any way and how could I bond with her by just sticking a bottle in her mouth. ****WARNING: the following sentence contains what is probably TMI**** I had several obstacles to breastfeeding, "flat" nipples, size "H" breasts, and a complete and utter aversion to the thought of breastfeeding in any type of public situation (public being any where outside my house). None of this mattered though because I was going to do it, damn it, and nothing was going to stop me.

Skip ahead nine months and I deliver a healthy baby girl at a local hospital. The birth went just the way I'd hoped. We were exhausted but proud of ourselves. I even let The Engineer take a picture of me looking like crap holding our brand new baby.

The nurses are trying to help me figure out this whole breastfeeding thing. It certainly isn't as easy as the books make it sound. Is there some reason that no one mentioned that it hurts like hell and curls your toes? And I'm struggling, this whole treating my breasts like they're a hand to shake is freaking me out. And since sweet baby Scientist decided to scream the entire first night fatigue and a total collapse of the "way it should be" had left my nerves raw. All my insecurities came rushing in to laugh at me. Who was I kidding? They can't possibly think that I can take this baby home in less than 48 hours. There must be a rule about that somewhere. She won't survive, I am already showing my complete incompetence as a mother.

Still the nurses are terrific. They can see I'm struggling and their patience and understanding are the only thing keeping me from a complete breakdown. They suggested giving her a bottle. I was adamant, every thing I'd read and everyone said, "Do NOT give her a bottle." There was no way that was going to happen. All sorts of damage would be done to my ability to breastfeed if I succumb to the temptation.

So at some point they gave me what feels like the Holy Grail. They are going to call The Lactation Consultant to help. Surely with her training and experience she will be able to hold my hand and give me direction so I can feed this poor thing before I starve her to death.
An hour later she comes breezing into the room full of confidence and with a calm smile. Wasting no time she gets down to business. She pulls my gown to the side and exposes her prey my breasts without a word. I am mortified and tell her so. She informs me that I will get used to handling them for feeding and I'm being overly sensitive. She looks me over like she picking a roast for dinner and informs me that I have "flat" nipples. She then asks me what I've been doing during my pregnancy to fix them. I didn't know they had to be fixed. After telling her that she sighs and makes an under the breath comment about doctors. I'm trying to hold it together as another hope starts to crumble. She then informs me it just makes it more difficult but not impossible to breastfeed. At this point I'm willing to grasp at anything remotely positive and begin repeating that statement over and over to myself. Plus, I'm tough, I fight fires, I hold a green belt in karate and kicked butt at a big karate tournament, shit I just birthed this baby au natural, I can do whatever it takes. She tells me she'll be back in about a 1/2 hour with some things to help. She leaves a pamphlet for me to read and she breezes right out the door.

A few minutes later The Engineer returns after heading home for a shower and some real food. I tell him that The Lactation Consultant was there and even though she freaked me out in the beginning she did tell me she knew what to do to help and would be back soon.

I usually go with my first instinct, once again it's proven to be correct....

They think I'm a rotten parent...oh well they're mine to screw up if I want

My kids love going to the park. They can spend an entire afternoon at a playground. I love it. I find myself a nice spot to sit and pull out a good book. Out of the corner of my eye I see what their up to but usually it doesn't take long from me to get lost in my book. The kids are all over the playground. Climbing all over everything. When they were younger the rule was if you can't climb up it without help you're to small to be climbing on it. They knew when we were at the playground they were on their own. I'm not one of those parents who follows their kids around on the playground helping them do it. I didn't push them on the swing they learned to swing their feet. I didn't help them up the ladder for the slide, if they couldn't climb up they shouldn't be up there. But it didn't take long for my kids to notice all the other parents tagging along behind their kids. To put it bluntly, this pissed them off. Why don't you lift us up? Why won't you push us? My answer remained the same. This is a playground for kids, if you aren't big enough to do it by yourself you shouldn't be on it. Unfortunately, in this instance anyway, I also taught my kids that if they need help and Mom and Dad aren't around, ex. we got separated in a store or something, they should chose someone to help them, a woman with small children usually being their safest bet. If someone comes up to them and offers help to avoid them. It's always better to pick someone that to let someone pick you. So the Three Musketeers decided to put that advice to good use and played the poor me card. "Ma'am can you push me on the swing?" Of course, this causes the woman to look around and see who the horrible parent is who left their kid to play in the playground by themselves, horrors of all horrors. Sometimes my kid would point to me and I would wave with a smile. Needless to say many parents didn't agree with my attitude and I got a lot of nasty looks. I also let them climb things by themselves. A few times they got up to far and needed rescue but I took my time getting there and amazingly they often got down on their own before I arrived. I wanted my kids to learn their limits, even if they got some bumps and bruises along the way. What I ended up with is kids who know how to ask someone for help if they need it and know what it feels like to trust your feelings when you talk to an adult. Not a bad trade off. Even if half the parents in the playground think I suck as a parent.