Oh the DRAMA

Kiddo is Five and a Half.

BIG KID.

All registered for Kindergarten, official Big Kid stuff.

So far he has survived elbow scrapes from the bicycle.  Knee scrapes.  A 'possible' broken wrist from a playmate at school.

But the drama that ensued yesterday morning when I brushed his teeth was of epic proportions.

My child's face got beet red.

He blushed.

He then turned purple.

And then....

He started wailing. 

Righteous wailing.

Know why?

He has a .... Loose Tooth.

Yes, my dramatic child who does not like change (he doesn't think he does) but is so freaking adaptable that I don't have to worry about throwing his schedule off...

Has a Loose Tooth.

Oh the Horror.

He cried for an hour.  Big gulping sobs.

So matter how much I hugged him and whispered to him.

We even emailed The Husband so that he could call us and be the first to know.

He bawled through that conversation.

He cried talking to my mom.

He cried in Walgreens.

It was a sight.

Eyes all red and puffy.  Sniffling.  The whole nine yards.

A nice lady in the allergy medicine aisle asked if his allergies were acting up, to which he started wailing again and reaching for me to pick his fifty pound tail up.  I had to explain he had his First Loose Tooth.

She just looked at me funny.

But the first tooth that made its appearance in my precious baby's mouth, will be the first tooth to fall.

I'll have to video it when it does come out. 

This should be good.

It's been forever

It's been absolutely forever since I sat down and blogged...again.

I think I wrote this apology a few months ago...might as well copy and paste again. 

Working 40+ hours a week, having a five year old that is constantly wanting my attention...and regular life...I just want to sit and stare when I have a few moments of peace.

The Husband I were talking the other day about our dream weekend.  His is some kind of sports car touring weekend...I started hearing blah blah blah increased insurance rates...blah blah blah.

I just point blank looked at him and said.  My perfect weekend would be a giant bag of Doritos, a six pack of very cold bottled Diet Mtn Dew, and a good book.  With silence.  No dog, no phone, no kid, no husband.  Silence.  I'd like to pee in peace.  Not have anyone tugging on me at every moment.   I constantly feel like I'm being touched all the time.

I feel tugged on at work.  Patients, Insurance, Pharmacies.  My Doctor is awesome.  I lurve her.

I feel tugged on at home.  The Husband and I try to have conversations, but I usually tune him out halfway through because Kiddo is yanking on my chain. 

The Husband and I are too exhausted and cranky.

Kiddo is full of energy.

We need a weekend away.

We did a Family Vacation and had a fun filled week at Disney World.  Awesomeness!

But The Husband and I need some time together.

By the way,  Kiddo has been Registered for Kindergarten.

O. M. G.

And again...

Kiddo has had an on again, off again relationship with ear infections.

I thought we had broken up with them forever and ever...

But alas, like a crazy old Ex that won't just find a hole and crawl in it, Ear Infection #25 found him today.

I'll take a five year old with a double ear infection over the screaming hot mess of an infant that he used to be.

Nothing will make a mother's heart drop quite like seeing the name of the Preschool flash up on the cell phone.

Husband was available to manage the pick up, bring to the doctor (where I work haha) and wrestle in the waiting room.

But my Mommy Proud moment came when I got to bring my own child back to the room and check him in.

I am biased, but he was by far, the best patient of the day. 

I explained I wasn't Mommy right now, I was Dr B's Assistant.  He did so well.  Explained how his ears felt, talked like the Big Kid that he is becoming, and overall was just awesome.

After it was all over, I gave him two suckers.

Not many kids get two suckers.

Noah

I am not the most religious person on the planet.

I question God.  I question the whole notion of a 'supreme being'.  I question them all.  Hindu, Jewish, Christian, etc.

I was raised Methodist.  I am more than happy to experience various religions and find their traditions fascinating.  I bow my head along with everyone else.  I'm not a screaming Atheist that doesn't want people to pray...ever.  I have no problem with it.  What they feel is what they feel.  What I feel is what I feel.  I respect their feelings and find the experiences educational and spiritual in my own way.

But I've never felt religion deeply.  I accept them all for face value and keep happily plugging along.

But Kiddo has started asking about God.

I mean, the child goes to a Church Preschool. He's starting to wonder who this 'God is Great' guy is all about.

The Husband and I have not been big on going to Church.  We just haven't.  Lots of excuses.  I won't list them.

So I picked up some Bible story books for Kiddo's age at the Library. 

After last week's events in Connecticut, I figured it was about time to try a little soul searching.

So we read the story of Noah last night....

I thought he'd be more interested in the animals all on the Ark.

Not so much...he was more interested in the rainbow at the end.

But when I read the paragraph "God watched them, these people who would continue the world.  Humans are not perfect, God thought.  There is an evil corner in their hearts. Perhaps they will learn goodness one day.  In the meantime, I made them, and must accept them as they are".

Oh wow. 

And it was not lost on me that they buried little Noah yesterday.  In Connecticut. 

But my heart has healed a little.  Just a crack.  Just a smidge. 

A tiny bit.

Trying

I'm trying.
Really I am.
I'm trying to not look at my five year old and cry.
I want to kneel down in front of each and every child that comes into our practice and hug them.
I want to pat the top of all their beautiful little heads.
The little girl with glasses and missing teeth today was the most beautiful child ever.  Her smile was just stunning.
And I had to turn and pretend to send a fax as my eyes filled with tears.
I can't talk about this at work.  I can't talk at home.
I am attending my son's 'Sing Along' program tomorrow and I know I'll cry at some point.  Hoping to make it to the car afterwards before I let it loose.
Because there are twenty parents in Connecticut that won't get to do that. 
Instead they are burying their children.
That's just so wrong. 
So very very wrong.

Grief

I heard about the Connecticut shooting at work.
I heard three people were dead.  Oh ok...another co worker shot up fellow coworkers.  Domestic issues gone wrong.
I was so very wrong. Very very wrong.
In this town in Connecticut, there are 20 sets of parents of first graders that are having to deal with Christmas presents, empty rooms, dirty laundry, and the loss of their child.
How do you go on?
I've cried myself stupid.
For my own sanity, I have not read a report, nor watched the news since Friday.  I cannot get on Facebook either.
I want to curl into a ball and sob my eyes out for parents that I don't even KNOW.  The grief is so striking...so painful.  I feel like I've been kicked.  I feel sad.  Sad isn't a good word.  I'm just hurt...
My Kiddo is five.  What the fuck would I do?  How would I go on?  How do you keep breathing?  How do you keep moving?  How do you not just die yourself?
I couldn't.
I've been to a toddlers funeral.  I still grieve for that child, and it's been seven years.  She was not mine.  I was not a mother at the time of her death.  But I still grieve.  Her parents have pushed through and are just wonderful people with very full lives for their children.  But I cannot for the life of me imagine having to push through.
I can't imagine the fear and terror these children experienced in that chaos...I cannot imagine their pain and confusion.
I just can't.
I flash to the face of my own child and the thoughts of what I would do.  I keep putting myself there.
My heart aches.  It just hurts so bad.  I want to get in the car and drive there and hug someone and say I am sorry.  So very very very sorry.
As I hug my fiesty child that has no idea this horrible evil ever happened.
My five year old.
With his presents from Santa waiting in the closet. 
And his dirty laundry strung everywhere.
And I am grateful that my child is safe and well, and happy. 
But those poor parents...those poor families...it hurts so badly. 
That town will never be the same.  How do you heal from that?  How do you ?
I have no answers.  Just grief for these parents.  The hopes that the news story will change. 
But it won't. 
And these kids are gone.
And the Christmas trees are lit.

A Tale of Two Turkeys

Ahhhh...the Tradition of running all over three states for the Thanksgiving Holiday had to be given up this year.

With Great New Job, comes the fact that I had to work on Friday after Thanksgiving.

So , no travelling.

My parents, both being sick, didn't come in.

My inlaws...well....nevermind.

So it was going to be a Dinner for Three.

I voted to go out to dinner.

The Husband voted to order dinner.

Kiddo wanted to 'do it right Mom'.

Which meant Biggest Turkey Ever, corn, rolls, carrots, and pies.

Here's the kicker...Kiddo has NEVER eaten the Traditional Meal.  Ever.

Last year, I had to stop at Waffle House in North Carolina and feed him.  He literally had not eaten for three days because he refused all the Traditional stuff.

I knew in my heart he wasn't going to go for this...but maybe, just maybe if we took him shopping he would be into it.

Off to the grocery store we go...armed with coupons and savings.

Kiddo promptly picked out a 22 lb turkey.

Yes, TWENTY TWO POUNDS.

No amount of convincing or talking would get him to give up on The Biggest Turkey Ever.

So we put Big Bird in the cart, and trolled around for the rest of the fixings.

The Husband and I kept eye balling each other sidewise, and like the team that we are, without saying a word, he picked up Kiddo as we were nearing the end of the store to take him to the salad bar to get a 'snack'. 

Wink Wink  Nudge Nudge.

I hoofed it back to the Freezer section as fast as I could fly.  I dodged down the aisle when I heard his voice pipe up.

I hoisted Big Bird out of the cart and flopped him back into the bin.

I mashed my pinky finger in the process.

I frantically rooted for the Smallest Turkey Ever. 

I settled for a 12 lb'r.

I raced back to the check out.

I informed the clerk to ring the Bird up first and stuff it quickly into the canvas shopping bag.

NOW!  Here they come!

Operation Turkey Switch was a success.

Kiddo talks about eating the turkey leg...the big slices of the turkey...and all the fixins.

Thanksgiving Day dawns...the Bird is being prepped for the oven. 

Kiddo admires my handiwork...watches it all day...ohhhhs and ahhhhs when I take it out of the oven.

I'm so proud to lay the thick slices on his plate with the pretty sides I've labored over all morning.

We say Grace...three times.  Three different ways. 

And Kiddo proceeds to ....

EAT.  NONE. OF. IT.

He had corn, carrots and a roll.

*Sigh* 

Next year, we are hitting Golden Corral.