This summer I was blessed enough to be a part of the St. Jude Mattoon to Peoria Run. The run is a fundraiser for children at St. Jude and culminates in a 150-mile run from Mattoon to Peoria where the fundraising is celebrated. I am not a runner, so I rode along and provided "run support." I also took photos and made a video of my trip (naturally, I'm a journalist!). It was an amazing experience and very inspiring to see these 50 runners and their physical and emotional dedication to this cause. After it's all said and done, there is a wrap party to share photos and memories. I decided to attend this party and take my 15-month-old. By myself. My husband was needing to get some yardwork done and I thought, "What a great time for him to do that and we'll go and enjoy the party!" (In case you're interested in seeing what the run is all about, you can view the video I made here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lK2cW2YQWDI)
Now, I've been places with my son by myself before, but I can safely say this was a new experience. And a learning one. First, he's walking now so his favorite thing to do was run around and try to play with other kids and explore. Not so bad. I can just follow him and make sure he plays nice and doesn't explore anything too dirty or inappropriate. I never bothered trying to go to the bathroom while I was there because I honestly had no idea what I would do with him. I don't think he could stand still and behave in a bathroom stall long enough! He did well sitting at the table and eating snacks until dinnertime. I decided to take him to the line with me to get food (it was buffet-style). This is where it got interesting. Like I said, I was learning new things all the time here as I often am as a first-time parent. Luckily, I knew many people there and my friends Dalena and Rick were able to help me and entertain Tyler a little in line or what happened next could've been a complete disaster.
We're in line waiting patiently (well, sort of) and I pick up a plate and proceed to get a few rolls. Next is the buns for the pulled pork they were serving. Right about there in the line Tyler decides to grab the whole bun bag and pull it off the counter. Luckily, Dalena is right behind us to grab them before they all hit the floor and are rendered completely useless. We get that all taken care of an move up to the pulled pork. I reach up to get the tongs and Tyler beats me to them and pulls them out of the dish flinging hot pork juice all over. I'm struggling to get them and keep him settled down while he's wildly waving the tongs around. Dalena and Rick rescue the tongs before they get dumped on the floor or thrown at somebody, thank goodness! Another disaster averted. We did finally get to our table and manage to eat and watch the videos without incident (except Tyler falling asleep for a few minutes. I'm sure he was exhausted from all of that potential fun-ruining!).
I guess the moral of the story is, thank goodness for good friends and life with kids will always be a learning experience! It certainly made me appreciate all of those times I have help even more. It's crazy to think that it's so much easier when someone is with you. You can go to the bathroom, order a drink, walk across the room to talk to someone, etc., and there's another set of eyes to watch him! It's totally doable on your own, but again, it sure made me grateful for all the help I do get!
Friday, August 17, 2012
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
12 Reasons Why I Wouldn't Live Anywhere But a Small Town
"Sometimes you wanna go...where everybody knows your name!" Okay, so now that I've got you singing along with me, I'll move on to the actual topic of this post that the Cheers theme song so aptly segueys us into: 12 Reasons Why I Wouldn't Live Anywhere But a Small Town.
I realize this isn't a "misadventure" so to say, but it was a topic that just happened to be on my mind today. I was reading an article about 10 Reasons Living in a Small Town Rocks posted by a Facebook friend the other day. It focused more on the arts and artisans parts of small-town living, but it got me thinking about why I like living in a small town, and just to be different, I had to come up with 12 reasons, instead of 10, so here goes.
1. There's never any traffic. You may never find yourself in a legitimate traffic jam in a small town unless it's shift change or there's a funeral procession. And even then, we still only call it "rush minute." There is no such thing as rush hour.
2. When you go out, people actually do know your name (and sometimes your order at your favorite eatery, your kids' names, your cousins, aunts, uncles, mom and dad and siblings). Sounds like a bad thing, right? I beg to differ. There are advantages to this. Like going to the bank. They don't ask for my picture ID or my name. They already know me and bring up my account as I walk int he door. Another example I can think of is losing your dog. A friend of mine at work lost her dog the other day and the neighbor found her, let her in the back yard, fed her and sent an email out to her contacts about having this missing dog. The email eventually got to someone who knew my friend. That someone called my friend and the dog and owner were reunited. Only in a small town. And it's still the type of town where we post flyers with photos of our missing pets because there is hope that they'll actually be returned safely. Another good example is leaving the door unlocked. I've had to do this in more than one instance and I'm never afraid. Not having fear goes a long way in my book. I'm not saying all cities are scary, I'm just saying that the Beaver Cleaver-esqueness of small-town neighborhoods is something I can't get enough of. My neighbors still wave at you, bring you electric hedge trimmers when you're struggling with manual ones and stop by just to say "hi" sometimes. The interconnectedness of your community really makes you feel safe and welcome.
3. Shopping local is just about the only option and it's actually fun! I have actually recently adopted this as my new challenge. Shop as local as possible. Small towns develop little boutique businesses and if we choose to support them, we can also find out that they have more unique offerings than your big box stores. Let's face it: Most small towns only have a Wal-Mart, so patronizing the little antique stores, resale shops, health food stores and other pop-up mom and pops are our best option. And you better bet the items and food you buy are a whole lot better than a lot of your chain choices.
4. This is one the other article mentioned, but I agree with 100%. Trends seem to come late or pass us by completely and sometimes that's ok. At least we don't buy trendy things we'll be sick of in the immediate future. Since it takes so long for trendy things to make their way to rural America, many times they're over and done with before we even get wind of them. Two things here: again, we don't spend a lot of money on things that will only be hot for a short time, and two, if we do want to get something trendy, we have to go a long way to find it, so chances are it'll at least be a thought-out purchase before we make it.
5. People still get together just to chat. It's a slower pace in Small Town, USA, and people still get together at the local McDonald's or the cafe down the street just to have coffee and catch up. It seems in cities the hustle and bustle has everyone using the "I'm too busy" excuse. Not in a small town. We make the time for our friends and family.
6. It's not a competition or race to the 4-Way stop so that you can go first. I've noticed this a lot lately. Three people get to a four-way stop at the same time. Who goes first? Well, here in my small town, no one's in a hurry so we all wave each other on. One person tries to go, then another, then we get stuck again and the whole silly dance starts over. I actually love this. It's one of those things that makes me happy inside because even though we're all strangers, we really want you to just go ahead and get to your destination first. We're happy to wait.
7. Riding the lawnmower down the city streets is not an uncommon sight. So it's a little Redneck, but you can't help but think that guy or gal is headed to help a neighbor mow, right? Why else would you drive your mower down the street? No matter what the reason, you only see it in small towns and I love it.
8. High school football. Yeah, we're totally all "Friday Night Lights" around here during football season. You don't have to have a kid in sports to want to watch either. The whole community takes pride in their local high school teams. A deep-rooted, simple pleasure you can't get at this level of intensity anywhere else.
9. Volunteerism and community pride. Without volunteers and people taking a little pride in their hometown, most little villages, towns and cities couldn't survive. There's nothing like seeing a group of small-town people coming together for a blood drive, during times of disaster, or any other time. It's just a feeling I don't think can be matched in volume or degrees of care in any big city.
10. Farmer's Markets. Sure, there's fresh produce markets in big cities, but they're not your good, ol' downtown farmer's market. Fresh, homemade pies, homegrown corn, local tomatoes and sometimes even local music fill the streets once a month in many small towns. Neighbors chat, new friends are made and it's just the best example of local people coming together to support one-another.
11. Finding something to do presents a challenge. Again, sounds bad, right? I see it another way. Learning to discover the little things right here at home in your community is priceless. Maybe it's the local history museum or restored candy kitchen or soda fountain, but every small town has something like that and finding those little gems and making a day of them truly makes it worth the hunt. Cities are great and have an abundance of activities, but what's the fun in knowing where you're going when you can explore and create your own fun in rural America?
12. The people. People in small towns are easy-going, friendly and always willing to help. Flat tire? No problem. Even a stranger would probably stop to help you around here. It's just the way people are in small towns and it's something I've grown up on and will never forget. Small town people really do rock!
In case you want to read the original article I got my topical inspiration from, you can find it here:
http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/10-reasons-why-i-love-living-in-a-small-town-173511
I realize this isn't a "misadventure" so to say, but it was a topic that just happened to be on my mind today. I was reading an article about 10 Reasons Living in a Small Town Rocks posted by a Facebook friend the other day. It focused more on the arts and artisans parts of small-town living, but it got me thinking about why I like living in a small town, and just to be different, I had to come up with 12 reasons, instead of 10, so here goes.
1. There's never any traffic. You may never find yourself in a legitimate traffic jam in a small town unless it's shift change or there's a funeral procession. And even then, we still only call it "rush minute." There is no such thing as rush hour.
2. When you go out, people actually do know your name (and sometimes your order at your favorite eatery, your kids' names, your cousins, aunts, uncles, mom and dad and siblings). Sounds like a bad thing, right? I beg to differ. There are advantages to this. Like going to the bank. They don't ask for my picture ID or my name. They already know me and bring up my account as I walk int he door. Another example I can think of is losing your dog. A friend of mine at work lost her dog the other day and the neighbor found her, let her in the back yard, fed her and sent an email out to her contacts about having this missing dog. The email eventually got to someone who knew my friend. That someone called my friend and the dog and owner were reunited. Only in a small town. And it's still the type of town where we post flyers with photos of our missing pets because there is hope that they'll actually be returned safely. Another good example is leaving the door unlocked. I've had to do this in more than one instance and I'm never afraid. Not having fear goes a long way in my book. I'm not saying all cities are scary, I'm just saying that the Beaver Cleaver-esqueness of small-town neighborhoods is something I can't get enough of. My neighbors still wave at you, bring you electric hedge trimmers when you're struggling with manual ones and stop by just to say "hi" sometimes. The interconnectedness of your community really makes you feel safe and welcome.
3. Shopping local is just about the only option and it's actually fun! I have actually recently adopted this as my new challenge. Shop as local as possible. Small towns develop little boutique businesses and if we choose to support them, we can also find out that they have more unique offerings than your big box stores. Let's face it: Most small towns only have a Wal-Mart, so patronizing the little antique stores, resale shops, health food stores and other pop-up mom and pops are our best option. And you better bet the items and food you buy are a whole lot better than a lot of your chain choices.
4. This is one the other article mentioned, but I agree with 100%. Trends seem to come late or pass us by completely and sometimes that's ok. At least we don't buy trendy things we'll be sick of in the immediate future. Since it takes so long for trendy things to make their way to rural America, many times they're over and done with before we even get wind of them. Two things here: again, we don't spend a lot of money on things that will only be hot for a short time, and two, if we do want to get something trendy, we have to go a long way to find it, so chances are it'll at least be a thought-out purchase before we make it.
5. People still get together just to chat. It's a slower pace in Small Town, USA, and people still get together at the local McDonald's or the cafe down the street just to have coffee and catch up. It seems in cities the hustle and bustle has everyone using the "I'm too busy" excuse. Not in a small town. We make the time for our friends and family.
6. It's not a competition or race to the 4-Way stop so that you can go first. I've noticed this a lot lately. Three people get to a four-way stop at the same time. Who goes first? Well, here in my small town, no one's in a hurry so we all wave each other on. One person tries to go, then another, then we get stuck again and the whole silly dance starts over. I actually love this. It's one of those things that makes me happy inside because even though we're all strangers, we really want you to just go ahead and get to your destination first. We're happy to wait.
7. Riding the lawnmower down the city streets is not an uncommon sight. So it's a little Redneck, but you can't help but think that guy or gal is headed to help a neighbor mow, right? Why else would you drive your mower down the street? No matter what the reason, you only see it in small towns and I love it.
8. High school football. Yeah, we're totally all "Friday Night Lights" around here during football season. You don't have to have a kid in sports to want to watch either. The whole community takes pride in their local high school teams. A deep-rooted, simple pleasure you can't get at this level of intensity anywhere else.
9. Volunteerism and community pride. Without volunteers and people taking a little pride in their hometown, most little villages, towns and cities couldn't survive. There's nothing like seeing a group of small-town people coming together for a blood drive, during times of disaster, or any other time. It's just a feeling I don't think can be matched in volume or degrees of care in any big city.
10. Farmer's Markets. Sure, there's fresh produce markets in big cities, but they're not your good, ol' downtown farmer's market. Fresh, homemade pies, homegrown corn, local tomatoes and sometimes even local music fill the streets once a month in many small towns. Neighbors chat, new friends are made and it's just the best example of local people coming together to support one-another.
11. Finding something to do presents a challenge. Again, sounds bad, right? I see it another way. Learning to discover the little things right here at home in your community is priceless. Maybe it's the local history museum or restored candy kitchen or soda fountain, but every small town has something like that and finding those little gems and making a day of them truly makes it worth the hunt. Cities are great and have an abundance of activities, but what's the fun in knowing where you're going when you can explore and create your own fun in rural America?
12. The people. People in small towns are easy-going, friendly and always willing to help. Flat tire? No problem. Even a stranger would probably stop to help you around here. It's just the way people are in small towns and it's something I've grown up on and will never forget. Small town people really do rock!
In case you want to read the original article I got my topical inspiration from, you can find it here:
http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/10-reasons-why-i-love-living-in-a-small-town-173511
Friday, June 22, 2012
The "Almost Done With Grad School" Misadventure
Have you ever had that sudden, gut-crunching feeling when the wheels fall off? I can honestly say I hadn't until near the end of my grad school career. I'm what many like to call "organized." I like to get things done (sometimes even before the deadline). So, I made sure that my final paper for my grad school thesis-like project was turned in with plenty of time to spare. I think my final draft was turned into my advisor sometime in late February and it wasn't necessarily due until early April. At any rate, I got it done, got it pretty much off my mind and continued to prepare for my oral presentation of the paper that was to come in mid-April (which means I made the Power Point and never looked at it again. I never practice speeches). About two weeks before my presentation I get to thinking about my panel committee (previously selected and scheduled for my big presentation). I start to wonder if I was supposed to give them my paper or if my advisor would do this. A little panic sets in, but I email my advisor and he says just to put hard copies in their mailboxes and all should be well. Ok, no problem. I can totally do that. I print the copies off five minutes later and in a matter of 10 minutes I have them dropped off to the appropriate people. While I'm dropping them off I receive an email from one of my committee members (and the chair of the department).
It says something to the effect of, "I haven't seen your paper yet, have you submitted it?" I quickly reply back that yes I had (it was done many moons ago) and that a hard copy is now in the mailboxes (which is required, no electronic copies will do). She emails back, "I don't feel like one week is adequate enough time for me to review your paper and perhaps you should reschedule your presentation." Panic. Pure panic sets in. Here I am, I have everything done, I worked hard to make sure I'm all scheduled and ready to go and this person wants me to reschedule?! There's that "wheels fell off" feeling. Just like a punch in the gut. I'm frantically searching through the handbook thinking, "Can she do this to me? I am all ready to go and I don't have time later to fit the presentation in my schedule!" I find the section in the book that says the paper must be submitted to the committee two weeks in advance. So, she's right. I didn't provide the paper in the proper amount of time for review. Now I'm really freaking out. My advisor is usually awesome at giving us deadlines and reminding us to do things like this, so I'm trying to figure out how I missed this one. I'm a graduate student, I should know better and don't need to rely on other people to remind me!
I forward the email to my advisor with a note simply asking, "What do I do!?" In the meantime, I haven't replied to her other than to say the copy is in her mailbox. My phone rings. It's the advisor. "What the heck does she think she's doing to you!?" He's pretty mad at this point just like I am. He goes on to explain that apparently nobody has followed this rule in the last 2 years and it's never been made a big deal of. He's all fired up and says he'll just find someone else to be on my panel if she can't find the time over an entire week to read a 40-page paper. He tells me not to worry and not to let it ruin my day. I'm a little relieved, but glad that he's on my side at least. He could've easily told me that I'm a grad student and I'm responsible for the hole I dug myself into.
Of course I worry. And of course, I never hear back from her. I have to have at least 3 people present at my panel so I go there the following week not knowing what to expect. She is there in the room for the previous panel but leaves before mine. So, I'm thinking, well, we'll use the advisors backup pick who shows up right on time. She ends up coming back and sits down without saying a word. I'm just silently running through my presentation, trying to calm my nerves. My advisor decides to ask her why she's here. She says, "Well, I'm on the committee." He scoffs in disbelief and says, "Well, I didn't know if you'd be here or not since you sent that email." She says she would have told someone if she wasn't going to be there. By this point, it's five minutes past my time to present and our backup pick (it feels like the draft or something!) says he'll just stay because it doesn't look like my other comittee member will make it. So I start. I'm doing well. The door opens, here comes the final committee member.
To make a long story short, I ended up with a bonus committee member and I passed the presentation with distinction. So, I ended up with a Master of Science in Technology with a 4.0 Grade Point Average and distinction for my presentation. What started out as a scary week, turned out to be just about the best one ever. Even if it did mean nearly having a heart attack.
It says something to the effect of, "I haven't seen your paper yet, have you submitted it?" I quickly reply back that yes I had (it was done many moons ago) and that a hard copy is now in the mailboxes (which is required, no electronic copies will do). She emails back, "I don't feel like one week is adequate enough time for me to review your paper and perhaps you should reschedule your presentation." Panic. Pure panic sets in. Here I am, I have everything done, I worked hard to make sure I'm all scheduled and ready to go and this person wants me to reschedule?! There's that "wheels fell off" feeling. Just like a punch in the gut. I'm frantically searching through the handbook thinking, "Can she do this to me? I am all ready to go and I don't have time later to fit the presentation in my schedule!" I find the section in the book that says the paper must be submitted to the committee two weeks in advance. So, she's right. I didn't provide the paper in the proper amount of time for review. Now I'm really freaking out. My advisor is usually awesome at giving us deadlines and reminding us to do things like this, so I'm trying to figure out how I missed this one. I'm a graduate student, I should know better and don't need to rely on other people to remind me!
I forward the email to my advisor with a note simply asking, "What do I do!?" In the meantime, I haven't replied to her other than to say the copy is in her mailbox. My phone rings. It's the advisor. "What the heck does she think she's doing to you!?" He's pretty mad at this point just like I am. He goes on to explain that apparently nobody has followed this rule in the last 2 years and it's never been made a big deal of. He's all fired up and says he'll just find someone else to be on my panel if she can't find the time over an entire week to read a 40-page paper. He tells me not to worry and not to let it ruin my day. I'm a little relieved, but glad that he's on my side at least. He could've easily told me that I'm a grad student and I'm responsible for the hole I dug myself into.
Of course I worry. And of course, I never hear back from her. I have to have at least 3 people present at my panel so I go there the following week not knowing what to expect. She is there in the room for the previous panel but leaves before mine. So, I'm thinking, well, we'll use the advisors backup pick who shows up right on time. She ends up coming back and sits down without saying a word. I'm just silently running through my presentation, trying to calm my nerves. My advisor decides to ask her why she's here. She says, "Well, I'm on the committee." He scoffs in disbelief and says, "Well, I didn't know if you'd be here or not since you sent that email." She says she would have told someone if she wasn't going to be there. By this point, it's five minutes past my time to present and our backup pick (it feels like the draft or something!) says he'll just stay because it doesn't look like my other comittee member will make it. So I start. I'm doing well. The door opens, here comes the final committee member.
To make a long story short, I ended up with a bonus committee member and I passed the presentation with distinction. So, I ended up with a Master of Science in Technology with a 4.0 Grade Point Average and distinction for my presentation. What started out as a scary week, turned out to be just about the best one ever. Even if it did mean nearly having a heart attack.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Misadventures in Beekeeping
No, I'm not a beekeeper. I just play one on TV sometimes. I've said it before, I have a pretty cool job. I host a travel show for a small PBS station and we travel around Illinois meeting people and visiting places that are unique. One of my recent ventures was to a beekeeping farm in rural Central Illinois. For anyone that knows me, you know I'm terrified of bees. Well, I'm terrifed of all flying insects really. So, when I ventured out to this bee farm for my show, I never dreamed I'd be getting up close and personal with the bees.
I was doing okay filming them. The beekeeper told me where to stand and assured me I wouldn't get stung, so all was well. Then he said "I've got an extra suit, maybe you want to demonstrate some of this on camera?" Uh, I'm sure I looked blank, but after grinding about it for a minute I decided that you only live once and I'd give it a shot. I suited up in the white suit, made sure all of the velcro was as tight as possible and proceeded to the chosen hive. I was going to lift one of the combs out of the hive for my co-host to film...WITH MY BARE HANDS! I was like, "Aren't there gloves or something?" I was informed that no, there were not. Your hands need to be sensitive so you know how much pressure you're exerting everywhere and not crushing bees. Ugh, I shuttered just thinking about accidentally touching a bee. But, at any rate I went ahead and picked up the comb and even managed a smile for the camera. Later, I got brave enough to taste the honey right off the comb (AMAZING!). It turned out to be a really fun and educational day, despite my fears. I maybe even got over some of them...a little.
I'm also happy to announce that I didn't get stung! I've posted the video above so you can see what all the buzz is about (Ha-Ha)!
I was doing okay filming them. The beekeeper told me where to stand and assured me I wouldn't get stung, so all was well. Then he said "I've got an extra suit, maybe you want to demonstrate some of this on camera?" Uh, I'm sure I looked blank, but after grinding about it for a minute I decided that you only live once and I'd give it a shot. I suited up in the white suit, made sure all of the velcro was as tight as possible and proceeded to the chosen hive. I was going to lift one of the combs out of the hive for my co-host to film...WITH MY BARE HANDS! I was like, "Aren't there gloves or something?" I was informed that no, there were not. Your hands need to be sensitive so you know how much pressure you're exerting everywhere and not crushing bees. Ugh, I shuttered just thinking about accidentally touching a bee. But, at any rate I went ahead and picked up the comb and even managed a smile for the camera. Later, I got brave enough to taste the honey right off the comb (AMAZING!). It turned out to be a really fun and educational day, despite my fears. I maybe even got over some of them...a little.
I'm also happy to announce that I didn't get stung! I've posted the video above so you can see what all the buzz is about (Ha-Ha)!
Thursday, March 8, 2012
The Pee Through and the Poop-a-Roo
Ok, so I never dreamed I'd talk this much about bodily functions until I had a child, but I think you might all get a kick out of these. I know I did (well, I'm laughing now at least). So you've all heard the adage, "Let sleeping dogs lie." Well, I'm willing to bet you've thought the same thing about babies, right? Never wake a sleeping baby. That's one of my primary missions in life. I always do my best to not wake my 10-month-old son once he's gone to sleep. So, recently when he went to bed at his normal time, I went along with my normal routine. I watch a video monitor while he sleeps and I usually go in his room a few times before I got to bed to do a physical inspection (I look at him, listen to him breathe, feel his arms and head to make sure he's warm enough). On this particular night he had been running a fever, so I put my hand under his back to make sure he wasn't sweating (if he was, I had planned to take him out of his sleep sack for a while). Oh, he wasn't sweaty, he had peed! That has never happened! He was soaked, his bed was soaked, everything was wet. Now I had to break my cardinal rule. I picked up the sleeping baby and proceeded to get him out of all the wet jammies, sleep sack, diaper, etc. I laid him on the floor in his room because it was the fastest way. Right away I discovered the issue. His diaper was only closed on one side. We won't say whose fault that is...
Somewhere deep in my heart I thought, "maybe he'll stay asleep." Haha, wishful thinking! So he's screaming, I'm changing sheets, jammies, diapers all in a blur. We finally made enough noise to rouse my husband (I was trying to spare him the sleep loss). So, now we're all in on it, but we finally get everything dry and the baby back to sleep with a little rocking and the night proceeds as usual. Needless to say, I now stick my hand under the baby every night to make sure that hasn't happened! It was just such a weird thing!
On the whole other side of the bodily function spectrum is the toy at our house that we now affectionately refer to as the poop-a-roo. Everyone always thinks I'm joking when I say that every time my kid gets in the jumparoo, he has to potty. People always say, "oh surely not every time!" with a dismissive laugh. Well, I'm here to tell you, it's just about 99 percent of the time! My daycare even started laughing about it because he does it there in their jumparoo too. I guess it's just a natural "mover" so to speak, but everytime you put him down in there he jumps and screams and laughs and then just stops, and you know what's happening! I've washed the seat of that thing more times than any person probably ever should have to because you can imagine what doing your thing and then jumping up and down can cause...
Anyway, that's my tale of the pee through and poop-a-roo. One rare thing and one that happens all the time. Ahhh, the joys of parenthood. But I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.
Somewhere deep in my heart I thought, "maybe he'll stay asleep." Haha, wishful thinking! So he's screaming, I'm changing sheets, jammies, diapers all in a blur. We finally made enough noise to rouse my husband (I was trying to spare him the sleep loss). So, now we're all in on it, but we finally get everything dry and the baby back to sleep with a little rocking and the night proceeds as usual. Needless to say, I now stick my hand under the baby every night to make sure that hasn't happened! It was just such a weird thing!
On the whole other side of the bodily function spectrum is the toy at our house that we now affectionately refer to as the poop-a-roo. Everyone always thinks I'm joking when I say that every time my kid gets in the jumparoo, he has to potty. People always say, "oh surely not every time!" with a dismissive laugh. Well, I'm here to tell you, it's just about 99 percent of the time! My daycare even started laughing about it because he does it there in their jumparoo too. I guess it's just a natural "mover" so to speak, but everytime you put him down in there he jumps and screams and laughs and then just stops, and you know what's happening! I've washed the seat of that thing more times than any person probably ever should have to because you can imagine what doing your thing and then jumping up and down can cause...
Anyway, that's my tale of the pee through and poop-a-roo. One rare thing and one that happens all the time. Ahhh, the joys of parenthood. But I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
A Week of Misadventure
Sometimes life gets in the way...of blogging at least. So, I humbly register my apologies for not posting for a while, but I think this blog will explain why things have been a little hectic at my house lately. It mostly involves timing more than anything.
You know how life seems to be going along at a nice clip and you know it's too good to be true? Well, it usually is and it was a few weeks ago. I had a normal Tuesday and upon stopping into work on Wednesday I learned of a terrible loss a co-woker had experienced unexpectedly overnight. After recovering from the initial shock, I began to formulate how I could help and I decided to offer to take over much of her duties at work when I could. This entailed spending a lot of time trying to do both her job and mine (thankful that the time I couldn't help, a journalism professor here could). I was so glad I had the skillset to be able to help and it really just meant staying a little longer at work here and there. Well, this works all fine and good because my wonderful husband was available each night to pick up our son from daycare and take him home (which is usually my duty).
A few days of this and it's going well until lunch one day when my husband says, "I hate to even say this out loud, but I have to go out of town for a few days." Wow. Now my support drops out! Of course work would come calling now because that's how it usually goes right? Neither of us are overly busy for a long time, then all of the sudden, BAM! We talk it out and decide that I can get some help filling in the later times at work for the next few days so I can go back to picking up my son and it all works out great, crises are averted and all of that good stuff. Eventually, life pretty much gets back to the new normal. Now, I'm officially back to doing my own work, which is nice in a lot of ways but I was glad that I could help out when needed.
I have to be honest. I admire single parents or those that are alone for long periods of time. Raising our son is very much a partnership and I find myself a little bamboozled from time-to-time when I'm alone. It's the simple things like leaving the baby with my husband when I have to go to the bathroom, or when I want to take a shower or when I answer the phone, switch the laundry, etc. Oh, believe me, I've found ways around some of that by adapating as I'm sure all parents faced with this do. Some are normal, some are funny. My personal favorite is the day I took my son to the bathroom with me. It's a little strange, yes, but I just held him on my lap. Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do! He's about to the stage now where you can't leave him alone because he's somewhat mobile and even a 2-minute trip to the bathroom could turn ugly and leaving him in his crib is just a stressful trip to the bathroom because he cries most of the time unless he's already peaceful and happy, so you do what you gotta do! I'm sure some of you out there can relate! You can't tell me you haven't spread a blanket out on the floor of your bathroom and made funny faces in the mirror while you put on your makeup in the morning to keep the little person in your life happy!? Well, that's at least another one of my little tricks. I try to do everything else after he's gone to bed for the evening.
So, anyway, the stress of doing two jobs in one, grad school, my single parenting moment and everything else has pretty much evened out now, but it was definitely one crazy week worthy of the misadventures. Oh, and as for my son...I think he came out of it okay too.
You know how life seems to be going along at a nice clip and you know it's too good to be true? Well, it usually is and it was a few weeks ago. I had a normal Tuesday and upon stopping into work on Wednesday I learned of a terrible loss a co-woker had experienced unexpectedly overnight. After recovering from the initial shock, I began to formulate how I could help and I decided to offer to take over much of her duties at work when I could. This entailed spending a lot of time trying to do both her job and mine (thankful that the time I couldn't help, a journalism professor here could). I was so glad I had the skillset to be able to help and it really just meant staying a little longer at work here and there. Well, this works all fine and good because my wonderful husband was available each night to pick up our son from daycare and take him home (which is usually my duty).
A few days of this and it's going well until lunch one day when my husband says, "I hate to even say this out loud, but I have to go out of town for a few days." Wow. Now my support drops out! Of course work would come calling now because that's how it usually goes right? Neither of us are overly busy for a long time, then all of the sudden, BAM! We talk it out and decide that I can get some help filling in the later times at work for the next few days so I can go back to picking up my son and it all works out great, crises are averted and all of that good stuff. Eventually, life pretty much gets back to the new normal. Now, I'm officially back to doing my own work, which is nice in a lot of ways but I was glad that I could help out when needed.
I have to be honest. I admire single parents or those that are alone for long periods of time. Raising our son is very much a partnership and I find myself a little bamboozled from time-to-time when I'm alone. It's the simple things like leaving the baby with my husband when I have to go to the bathroom, or when I want to take a shower or when I answer the phone, switch the laundry, etc. Oh, believe me, I've found ways around some of that by adapating as I'm sure all parents faced with this do. Some are normal, some are funny. My personal favorite is the day I took my son to the bathroom with me. It's a little strange, yes, but I just held him on my lap. Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do! He's about to the stage now where you can't leave him alone because he's somewhat mobile and even a 2-minute trip to the bathroom could turn ugly and leaving him in his crib is just a stressful trip to the bathroom because he cries most of the time unless he's already peaceful and happy, so you do what you gotta do! I'm sure some of you out there can relate! You can't tell me you haven't spread a blanket out on the floor of your bathroom and made funny faces in the mirror while you put on your makeup in the morning to keep the little person in your life happy!? Well, that's at least another one of my little tricks. I try to do everything else after he's gone to bed for the evening.
So, anyway, the stress of doing two jobs in one, grad school, my single parenting moment and everything else has pretty much evened out now, but it was definitely one crazy week worthy of the misadventures. Oh, and as for my son...I think he came out of it okay too.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Oh Deer!
So, I'm not generally too much of a "soft touch," well, at least I didn't used to be. I think being a parent has changed that...or something. Anyway, just about everything makes me feel and overthink things now like I never used to. I give you this back story so I can get to the front story. It's all about a deer.
I'm driving to a meeting for a service group that I'm a part of down our area 4-lane highway when I see a police car in front of me turn on his passing lights and then red-n-blues some distance down the road from me. As I approach him, he's in the left lane stopped with his spotlight on shining into the median. I'm slowing down to respect him as I always do police and other emergency personnel (and maybe to rubberneck a little too) when I look over and see a deer. The poor thing is laying down, crouched kind of on all fours, just off the side of the road looking at the policeman in horror, but it can't move. I'm assuming it's been clipped by a car. So, wishing I could wash my eyes and brain and not remember seeing that, I drive on to my meeting.
Great, now I'm all teary thinking about what he might have to do to the deer. What's the protocol on something like this? Will animal control come get it and put it out of its misery? Will the cop shoot it? I pretty much figure the policeman will just shoot the poor thing. Now I'm all upset, but I manage to keep it together and get to the meeting after turning up the music a little and vowing to think about other things. Now, after the meeting, all the way home, I'm thinking about it again. As I approach the spot where the deer had been I'm looking into the dark to see if it's still there and wondering what did happen to it. I don't see it. So, I'm going with this: the deer wasn't hurt, she was just tired, took a little roadside nap and the officer just came along and sent her on her way. Ok? Ok. We're going with that and I'd thank you to let me live in my happy little place on this one! I guess this is more of a misadventure for the deer than for me, but still, I felt like I wanted to share this story for some reason.
I think the point I'm making here is mommy-guilt is real. Life experiences have made me soft. Everything that can even hint at pulling out emotions does now. And to the extreme! Hallmark commercials, thinking about other peoples' situations even when I don't know them, and on and on and on and on. Realizing how short life is and how important every moment is definitely is something I have come to respect more than I used to. Whether it's age or becoming a new parent, I both love and hate it. So thank you, you poor little deer for reminding me again that life is short and even if it's the little things, we shouldn't take them for granted.
I'm driving to a meeting for a service group that I'm a part of down our area 4-lane highway when I see a police car in front of me turn on his passing lights and then red-n-blues some distance down the road from me. As I approach him, he's in the left lane stopped with his spotlight on shining into the median. I'm slowing down to respect him as I always do police and other emergency personnel (and maybe to rubberneck a little too) when I look over and see a deer. The poor thing is laying down, crouched kind of on all fours, just off the side of the road looking at the policeman in horror, but it can't move. I'm assuming it's been clipped by a car. So, wishing I could wash my eyes and brain and not remember seeing that, I drive on to my meeting.
Great, now I'm all teary thinking about what he might have to do to the deer. What's the protocol on something like this? Will animal control come get it and put it out of its misery? Will the cop shoot it? I pretty much figure the policeman will just shoot the poor thing. Now I'm all upset, but I manage to keep it together and get to the meeting after turning up the music a little and vowing to think about other things. Now, after the meeting, all the way home, I'm thinking about it again. As I approach the spot where the deer had been I'm looking into the dark to see if it's still there and wondering what did happen to it. I don't see it. So, I'm going with this: the deer wasn't hurt, she was just tired, took a little roadside nap and the officer just came along and sent her on her way. Ok? Ok. We're going with that and I'd thank you to let me live in my happy little place on this one! I guess this is more of a misadventure for the deer than for me, but still, I felt like I wanted to share this story for some reason.
I think the point I'm making here is mommy-guilt is real. Life experiences have made me soft. Everything that can even hint at pulling out emotions does now. And to the extreme! Hallmark commercials, thinking about other peoples' situations even when I don't know them, and on and on and on and on. Realizing how short life is and how important every moment is definitely is something I have come to respect more than I used to. Whether it's age or becoming a new parent, I both love and hate it. So thank you, you poor little deer for reminding me again that life is short and even if it's the little things, we shouldn't take them for granted.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
The Ongoing Ear-y Misadventures
Happy New Yaer! Wow, my apologies for not posting in a terribly long time (especially in the blogosphere!). We've been busy at our house. Most of what's going on is what the subject of this blog is about. Ears. My poor son, Tyler, has had nothing but trouble with his for the last 4 months of his life and we've crossed over from understanding and consoling to downright anger and "get something done now" type of feelings. It started with an ear infection, which of course we didn't know about until it was bad. Ear infections in babies have a way of being stealthy until they're pretty full blown. I'd say this first one was when he was about 3-4 months old. We went to the doctor, got the medicine, healed it up, all was well. Then they started happening frequently, as in one would come up a week after the antibiotic course from the last one. So, we continued to see the doctor (about every 2 weeks) and kept getting antibiotics. I know I speak for a lot of parents when I say that all you want when they feel that way is to make them better. The poor guy tosses his head around and wakes anywhere from 5 to 15 times a night because of it. So after several months of this, we are referred to an Ear, Nose and Throat Specialist (ENT). We have our appointment with her and she suggests saline rinses to his sinuses and Prevacid to stop any reflux (also known as spitting up) that we can.
While I appreciate that she didn't rush right into surgery, I have to admit I was a little disappointed that she didn't go ahead and suggest tubes for his ears. We were just wanting SOME sort of relief. She said she thought the spit-up was splashing and sitting in his ears causing the constant infections. Try it for six weeks and come back (January 20th). Oh, ok. Would you like to come home and deal with this with me for 6 weeks, because I'm pretty sure you have NO idea!
Well, here we were 2 weeks before Christmas and he gets ANOTHER one. This time, his ear drum bursts. To say I am mad is a vast understatement. I get that she can't predict that, but now I'm ready to talk tubes. I hold myself together for the pediatrician who more than senses my frustration. She gives him more antibiotics and puts him on a semi-permanent preventative dose. She says "that should be enough evidence (for tubes)." Okay, that'll do for now, but I am NOT waiting until the 20th. Luckily, we got rescheduled for this Friday, January 6th. In the meantime, my poor little kid is still tossing his head around on occassion but is generally the happiest baby you could ever know. He's been quite the trooper. But I'll tell you one thing, I will not be discussing anything other than tubes this Friday. As far as I'm concerned, the ear-y misadventures must stop.
While I appreciate that she didn't rush right into surgery, I have to admit I was a little disappointed that she didn't go ahead and suggest tubes for his ears. We were just wanting SOME sort of relief. She said she thought the spit-up was splashing and sitting in his ears causing the constant infections. Try it for six weeks and come back (January 20th). Oh, ok. Would you like to come home and deal with this with me for 6 weeks, because I'm pretty sure you have NO idea!
Well, here we were 2 weeks before Christmas and he gets ANOTHER one. This time, his ear drum bursts. To say I am mad is a vast understatement. I get that she can't predict that, but now I'm ready to talk tubes. I hold myself together for the pediatrician who more than senses my frustration. She gives him more antibiotics and puts him on a semi-permanent preventative dose. She says "that should be enough evidence (for tubes)." Okay, that'll do for now, but I am NOT waiting until the 20th. Luckily, we got rescheduled for this Friday, January 6th. In the meantime, my poor little kid is still tossing his head around on occassion but is generally the happiest baby you could ever know. He's been quite the trooper. But I'll tell you one thing, I will not be discussing anything other than tubes this Friday. As far as I'm concerned, the ear-y misadventures must stop.
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