Sniffling, Sneezing, Coughing...

Dear Tiny Snot Factory,

Who knew a person your size could create such copious supplies of snot?!? It's fascinating, really, and quite impressive. It started Thursday (thus my hiatus from letter-writing), ramped up over the weekend, and is still happening, but the quantity has reached more manageable levels. You had a low-grade fever starting Friday evening, and it spiked to 104 in the wee hours of Sunday morning, but then things simmered down and you stayed either normal or low-grade from then on. Your temp has been 99 or less for almost two full days now, with zero assistance from our good friend, Tylenol. Your pediatrician said on Friday that it was just a cold, nothing to worry about, and your lungs were "clear as a bell." We've had no reason to believe that has changed, though you do have a bit of a junky-sounding cough when you're lying down and when you first wake up... as all of us do when we've got nasty gunk running into our throats all night.

The good news: you seem to be over the worst of it and are in relatively high spirits, considering the fact that you're still coughing and sneezing here and there. Plus, so far at least, your parents haven't had any symptoms. I don't necessarily expect that to continue, since you actually sneezed into my eye Sunday morning. After many other coughs and sneezes aimed directly at my face, you finally hit your target with a well-timed volley.

The not-so-good news: this whole snot-fest has thrown a major wrench in our plans to take you for a follow-up visit to your specialist at Hopkins this week. Oh, well. It's probably for the best anyway. They got more than two feet of snow over the weekend and are forecast to have another 10-20 inches on top of that by tomorrow. According to one of my friends there, the local news channel's weather person was calling the weekend storm the "Snowtorious B.I.G.," which I find endlessly amusing. Since we were planning to drive, I suspect the trip would have been difficult at best, but we were kind of looking forward to having the time together, even though the circumstances weren't ideal. We're still waiting to hear back about rescheduling everything and have high hopes that we can take the trip well before your little brother or sister arrives. Your doc's schedule is a busy one, though, so we may end up having to wait 'til summer to make the trip with you and the new baby when all is said and done.

Anyhow, now that you've won our admiration and recognition for your snot-producing prowess, feel free to stop production whenever you're ready, ok? I can only imagine how tired you feel from all that hard work, and I know my eyeball could use a break from the action.

With tissues in hand,
Your (One) Mom

A donation solicitation

Dear Patience,

My child's personality has changed quite suddenly. Supposedly, around their half-birthdays, kiddos are typically quite comfy in their own skin, and their skills match their abilities and desires; this is called equilibrium. Then around their birthdays, they go into a state of chaos because they can't or aren't allowed to do all the things they wish they could; this is called disequilibrium. As of approximately four days ago, Beaker is, I believe, in a state of severe disequilibrium, and as a result, so are his parents.

He's almost two. He's screaming and throwing fits and completely ignoring our attempts to chastise him. In short, he is exceedingly happy when he gets his way, but his way often involves putting himself in dangerous situations (there's lots of climbing happening around here), so he sometimes doesn't get his way, and this makes him exceedingly unhappy.

As the current Meanest Mommy on the Planet titleholder, I'm gonna' need you to send some reinforcements. We need more of you at our house. I'm known for having you in somewhat short supply as it is, but even my Hub, who is generally The Most Patient Man on the Planet, is struggling to hold his temper on the really rough days, so it's time to stockpile however much of you can be spared in preparation for the long six months or so that lie ahead. Let me also remind you that there will be a NEWBORN in our house in less than three months, so you can trust that our need is truly urgent and we'll be using every last available morsel of whatever you choose to donate. Please don't delay in sending everything you've got. Since you may very well be the Obi-Wan Kenobi of virtues, I'll leave you with this plea: Help me, Patience. You're my only hope.

With many thanks in advance,
One Mom

Let him eat cake!

Dear Beaker,

Thanks for being such a sweet little guy when you stayed with our good friends A & M and their daughter, S, today. I know you love playing with S, and I think she'll be a good friend of yours for a long, long time. Though I feel a little guilty about the fact that you only napped for 20 minutes while you were there, as opposed to your usual two hours, our friends were thankfully very kind about your little grump-fest intermixed with bouts of almost-manic behavior as you fought to keep yourself awake. Thankfully, you finally passed out a while ago, so we have high hopes that you might actually sleep really late tomorrow so we can, too. We so love family sleep-in days, and I know they'll be few and far between once your little brother or sister arrives.

Now about the little cake incident? We gotta' talk, kiddo. Apparently, since S is about five months younger than you (and a girl, so perhaps less interested in seeking out opportunities for trouble?), A & M aren't accustomed to having to be so careful about putting things waaaaay out of reach, but you really shouldn't take advantage of their hospitality like that. Honestly, I don't blame you for grabbing the piece of cake from the countertop and pulling it onto the floor. Really, I don't. I might have done the same thing were I in your shoes. In fact, I'm almost proud of you. You know a tasty treat when you see it, and you didn't hesitate to scarf down almost the entire piece before you got caught. Poor A called me in a panic, afraid I would be upset that she accidentally let you eat something so full of sugar. On the contrary, besides laughing, all I could think about was how jealous I was that you got to eat cake today, and I didn't. You come by your sweet tooth honestly, baby boy, so I hope you enjoyed every bite!

Love,
Your (One) Mom

p.s. Chocolate frosting is the best, isn't it?

A Masterpiece

Dear Crayola,

Thanks for your most brilliant invention of Color Wonder paper. Not only have you made it possible for an under-two-year-old to experience the joys of coloring without causing his mother to have a heart attack over the possibility of finding artwork on the table, walls, or furniture, but you have also provided him a wonderful opportunity to practice his gross and fine motor skills from the confines of a booster seat (which means I can do something besides chase him for a few sweet moments).

While the Color Wonder markers are the only medium we've tried thus far, I've heard great things about the crayons and finger paints from my mom-friends. I look forward to purchasing more of your products in the near future so that we may take full advantage of your miraculous paper. As a thank you for the bright spot you've created in my day, please enjoy a sampling of artwork from today's studio time. I trust you will agree that he is already quite the little artist:



Happy coloring,
One Mom

Rat Bastards

Dear LG&E,

What the hell is up with having our January bill due on the 25th and the February bill due on the 1st? Are you out of your mind?? Are you under the mistaken impression that we've got an overwhelming supply of cash lying around and paying two WINTER heating bills within a week is just no big deal?? I hate you, and you can suck it.

Your Biggest Fan,
One Mom

Is he really old enough for this already??

Dear Local Preschool,

Thanks for your hospitality! I enjoyed the open house tonight. It was unfortunate that Hub and Beaker couldn't come with me because of the whole stomach bug thing (kiddo's better now, but we wanted him to be symptom-free for at least 24-48 hours before letting him roam through the classrooms of a school), but I'm in love with what I learned about you and really, really hope we can snag a spot in one of your classes for next year.

Beyond the fact that I have several friends whose children attend your school and absolutely love it, there are a few things about you that have left a significant impression on me:

1) You reserve a significant percentage of your slots for children with special needs. Beaker's potentially one of those kids, though we're not certain of that just yet. He definitely has unique medical circumstances, and as a result, he'll be potty-training well behind most of his peers. This fact alone will make a ton of other pre-schools a non-option for us because they expect all children to develop on the same timeline, no matter their individual situation. In addition, he's late to talking and is about to begin weekly speech therapy sessions through a state-funded program for little ones. While we anticipate that he'll benefit from the therapy and will probably catch up with his peers relatively soon, if he does continue to demonstrate a speech delay, he'll need to be in a place that can accommodate his needs with individualized instruction without taking him out of the environment of a typical, age-appropriate classroom. Kids at your school with special needs learn in the same classroom with more typical peers, and everyone seems to benefit from this blend.

2) There are two teachers in every classroom, and all the lead teachers are CERTIFIED (pretty rare in a private school environment), with a limit of 10-12 kids per class, depending on the age. The children range in age from 12 months through 3rd grade, with 4th and 5th grades to be added in the next two years. The curriculum is challenging, but individualized for each child's developmental needs, and there is plenty of opportunity for learning through both unstructured and structured play time. The focus is on educating the whole child--socially, emotionally, and intellectually, and parents receive ongoing assessments of their child's progress. All of this makes me exceedingly happy as a parent and as a former educator.

3) You promote and teach respect for differences, respect for the individual, peaceful conflict resolution, non-violence, and non-competitiveness. Yes, even pre-schoolers can learn such lofty concepts, and I love that you're making that happen.

4) You are a family cooperative, meaning you not only encourage, but expect parental involvement. Parents are asked to work a certain number of hours each month in the school, assisting in the classroom, with school fundraisers, and in various other ways to help the school as a whole. This means the whole family becomes part of the school community. There are family fun nights, picnics, and other family-centered activities to encourage family involvement and participation.

5) The director reports to a parent-run board. That means parents have the final say in all major decisions, including budget stuff. Call me a control freak, but I like the idea of parents having a say in how their own childrens' school is run.

In addition to all of this, I have to say it doesn't hurt that the school's director is an old friend of mine from college, and I feel very comfortable knowing that she's ultimately in charge of the curriculum. Plus, it would be nice having a familiar face watching out for my child's best interests... though I can tell she takes a personal interest in every child at the school, and she really loves her job.

I suppose you're wondering if there's anything I don't like about you, huh? Well, not really, at least not in terms of what you have to offer our family (and more specifically, our kid). But let's be real: you're kinda' pricey, and it's going to be a stretch for us. Hub recently made the leap into grad school, we've got a new kid on the way, and I've currently got what you might call limited earning potential--gotta' love self-employment in a crappy economy! Oh, and it will be a slight nuisance to have to buy disposable diapers because you won't use the cloth ones we already have. But yeah, all that said, we really want to make it happen if at all possible. So let us have a spot, ok??

With utmost admiration,
One Mom

An Unwelcome Visitor

Dear Mr. Stomach Bug,

You're not welcome in my home, and I would ask that you vacate the premises immediately. Leave it to you to show up just after we've been forced to make a well visit to the pediatrician. We had to go to get some paperwork signed by the ped so that Beaker could get speech therapy, along with some other paperwork we'll need when we take him to one of his specialists in a couple of weeks for a follow-up visit. And yeah, our pediatrician has separate waiting rooms for well kids and sick kids, but they all end up in the same exam rooms, so it's hard to see the point. I'm pretty sure you hang out all over that joint anyway, so really, I guess there was no avoiding you. This is only the second time he's ever really been sick, and the first was a nasty head cold he caught when he was admitted to the hospital for a spider bite, of all things. It's annoying, but not at all surprising, that you seem to thrive in the very places that are supposed to be sterile and clean. And that's exactly why we don't normally do "well" visits. I know my kid is well--at least 'til I take him to see a doctor--and I don't need a doctor to confirm it.

To be fair, we also spent a fair amount of time at the playground on Saturday, surrounded by a bunch of little germ factories... erm... I mean children. But I'm doubting we met you at the playground, since the doc's office confirmed when I called them that you've been making a lot of appearances there lately, Mr. Stomach Bug. Thankfully, your symptoms are relatively mild thus far. He's a little lethargic and has almost no appetite, but otherwise, is in reasonably good spirits. Except when he barfs, of course. This morning's episode was actually his first "big boy barf," as I'm calling it... meaning it was like grown-up vomit, not just spit up. And he's had a couple more instances of his little belly starting to heave with minimal production (for lack of a better word), and that freaks him out a little. He gets this scared look on his sweet little face and starts crying, which is exactly what we all want to do when we're puking, right? His tummy's doing lots of gurgling, with the usual side effects that come with that, and once again, I'm feeling really, really thankful that I'm past the nausea stage of pregnancy--but I gotta' say, I've come close to revisiting those golden days a couple of times today.

Movies have been our saving grace. He's currently obsessed with Cars, but will occasionally allow us to watch Aladdin, and he has spent a good bit of time curled up on the floor or the sofa with his rubber duckie blanket that his Grandma quilted for him as a Christmas present. It's his movie blanket and also keeps him nice and warm on those rare occasions when he naps on the sofa, as he did today:


We're almost out of laundry detergent, so I'll be running to Target when Hub gets home from school, and then getting to work on the towels and clothes you've left in your wake thus far. I've missed an appointment with my midwife today as a result of your unwelcome presence (don't wanna' share you with any other pregnant moms), and I'm missing a board meeting for my birth professionals network as I type this. Tomorrow, we're supposed to attend an open house for the preschool where we hope to be able to enroll Beaker next year, and it's looking like I'll have to leave Hub home with him and go alone, which is obviously less than ideal because thankfully, Daddy actually cares where his kid goes to school. In summation, you are a pain in our asses, and we do not like you.

Let this be your warning: leave my kid alone, and don't you dare mess with the rest of us, including the little one I'm working so hard to build! We have things to do, and we don't have time for any more of your mean little games. Bug off already, will ya'?!?

One Mom

Oh, the sweetness

Dear Beaker,

Thank you for your sweet little hugs throughout the day. At 22 months old, you've made a regular habit of randomly stopping what you're doing, running over, and hugging my leg or your daddy's, with a sweet little "mmmmm" noise to accompany the hug. This has been going on for a couple of months now, but recently, it's been happening more frequently. Sometimes, we even get a random kiss just for good measure, which is especially nice now that you've figured out that you can kiss with your lips and not just an open mouth and some slobber (that kind of kissing will return someday, but you'll be much, much older, and we won't want to know about it). On a couple of occasions, when I've been having a rough day and feeling a little sad, you've climbed into my lap, grabbed my face with both hands, and just touched your forehead to mine; it scares me a little that you're so intuitive about my feelings, but it also warms my heart. It's like you're saying, "Mommy, don't be sad. It will all be ok." These moments make my day, and I know Daddy feels the same.

Sometimes, your sweetness is overwhelming. I can only hope you'll be so loving with your little brother or sister, though I suspect becoming a big brother might be a difficult transition for you. Please know that we love you more than you can imagine and that we really treasure your affectionate little personality... and try not to grow out of your desire for regular hug breaks too quickly, ok??

Love,
Your (One) Mom

Tasty, but messy.

Dear Oatmeal,

I'm a big fan of yours. However, as food goes, you're seriously messy. The toddler enjoyed you for a few minutes, then got a little overwhelmed by your stickiness. Apparently, the spoon thing wasn't going well for him today, and he declared himself "all done!" Thankfully, he had a bath immediately following breakfast. This worked out well, since it turns out you weren't the only big mess of the morning. I'll spare you the gory details, but let's just say there was a diaper involved, and I'm really, really glad to be past the nausea phase of pregnancy. And just so you know, I'm not entirely convinced you're not also to blame for mess #2 (pardon the pun).

We'll be seeing you again soon, I'm sure, but I expect we'll return to the usual morning fare of waffles with peanut butter and some variety of fruit for a few days, at least. You gotta' realize I need to prepare myself mentally for this kind of clean-up effort. Perhaps if I could get Uncle B on the case, I could escape clean-up duty altogether. While I work out those logistics, enjoy this little peek at the mess you caused (which, for the record, was significantly worse off-camera when his lap was uncovered).



Fondly,
One Mom

Greetings from Motherland

Dear Family and Friends,

Welcome to my first post! I've been meaning to get a blog going so that the very short list of mildly interested parties could follow along with our family's little journey. Not that it's a very exotic journey, mind you, but we're glad to be on it and I thought I'd share some little snippets of our day-to-day "adventures," however small they may be. Along the way, you'll likely find a few semi-unrelated posts where I don't write about my family, but instead go off on some tangent or other about motherhood or birth or natural parenting or whatever else strikes my fancy that day. Consider yourselves warned, and feel free to skip over whatever may bore or offend you; I promise not to take it personally.

Anywho, if you're a grandparent, aunt, or uncle--to our kid(s), specifically--this is especially for you, since you'll find photos and videos of our little man and his sibling-in-progress (though don't expect pictures, moving or otherwise, until after the new kid is earthside). I'm not terribly good about keeping up with this sort of thing, but I'm going to do my best. We'll call it a New Year's resolution... but that's not even a fair assessment, since this blog is a holdover of a goal I had way back before Beaker was born. I'm obviously behind schedule, considering he's nearing the two-year mark, so I make no promises about the quality and/or frequency of my posts.

By the way, don't be confused by the Beaker thing: I'll be using pseudonyms here, and I would ask that you try to use them, too, should you choose to leave a comment. I don't care what you call yourself in the comments, but if you're referring to my family, let's agree to the following: Beaker is our firstborn, Bunsen is currently under construction, and my hub will just be called Hub. I'm One Mom, as opposed to EveryMom (who I imagine believes that her individual experience represents a microcosmic view of the general experience of all mothers). I won't pretend that folks will necessarily find my experience as a mother interesting, relatable, or even mildly entertaining, but I hope at least some of you will humor me by reading along anyway. You can also refer to us by our first initials, if that helps, but I'd like to keep our real names out of the picture whenever possible. I'm willing to admit this might be more of a challenge with video posts, where names are often spoken. Anyone who knows me personally already knows most of these nicknames, so figuring out who's who in our family shouldn't be too difficult. If you're a stranger, feel free to tune in, but honestly, I'm pretty sure we're not the best show in town, so know that you have every right to read elsewhere.

I promise to give you something cute to look at next post around. For now, it's my bedtime!

'Night, 'night,
One Mom

p.s. I actually wrote this on a different date than the date stamp suggests, but I had to move my blog to a different site because of some technical difficulties, and I'm just now re-publishing it.