Tuesday 31 October 2017

unicorn mom and mommy potion

It's the happy, happiest time of the year! That's right it's a holly jolly Halloween! Isaac has been waiting all year for it. He is only three, but he knows exactly what Halloween is all about and had eagerly been practicing his trick or treat skills for months. Everyday, several times a day, his tiny toddler heart breaks when he asks me if it is time for trick or treating and I tell him no. Finally the day has arrived and just like every other toddler... he decided he didn't want to go trick or treating or wear the costume he had worn everyday for a month.

After much coaxing and a few episodes of scooby doo we rediscovered the joy of all things spooky and decided to brave the mall for trick or treating. I battled Zoey into her unicorn costume, mended the Velcro on superman's cape and donned my very own super mom shirt. We drove to the mall, fought the parking war and  managed the elevator button battle. We made the rounds and collected lots of candy for mommy's late night sugar binge (there is lots for the kids too, after all I really don't like peanut butter cups). After exhausting my candy slaves we stopped for some "dewicious bunch" at the food court where we discovered even more candy was being handed out. A final round of trick treating and we decided to stop at the indoor play area. This is where I found my mom soul mate. This woman was as majestic and as illusive as the unicorn my daughter was dressed as. She had mismatched socks, leggings with holes in the knee and hair that was in that typical five day dry shampoo binge messy bun. As I was watching this goddess manage the tiny minions clinging to legs, (she managed to get them to play by themselves) suddenly the announcement came that play time was over and everyone proceeded to file out the gate controlled by the play nazis. I gathered my beasts and was vaguely aware of my mom-spiration preparing to leave. I placed my self next to her at the sanitizer dispenser and tried to make small talk and that my friends is when it happened...

Tiny child: "I got alcohol on my hands!"
Unicorn mom: "Great dude, rub it in."
TC: I got alcohol on my hands, my mommy likes alcohol."
UM: Stop. That isn't appropriate."
TC: Alchy, alchy, alcohol!"

And it was in that moment that I knew I indeed am not a bad mom! There are others out there. At least my kid just calls it "mommy potion."

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Saturday 21 October 2017

The Potato Bum

We are getting ready to move and with this comes the challenge of packing the house. We have moved many times and each time has presented its own unique challenges, every time it's been a little harder. The first move we were young and moving into a tiny 500 sq ft apartment, we owned nothing. The first little while we literally spent with lawn chairs and a cardboard box as living room furniture. The next move was a main floor house, we were a month away from getting married and both in school, this left us little time to pack or clean. On our next move I was heavily pregnant and very hormonal, it was stressful and unpleasant. From there we moved to our current house with a toddler and a newborn. The toddler spent a few days crying and asking to go home, and the baby although less emotional had a sleep regression and nursing strike from the disruption of her routine. This time it's two toddlers and a dog. We didn't anticipate this move and had gotten pretty entrenched in this house. Now it's time to go through all the stuff, gather the toys that are sprawled every where, organize the chaos, and attempt to fit our lives into the back of a uhaul. Thank goodness we have lots of help and support with packing and the actual move.

We packed all the kids toys away except for two boxes. There is a lot of stuff in these boxes; a unicorn demon thing that actually talks and drink bottles, a paw patrol plane and five different versions of each pup, a couple of puzzles, a car or two, some dollies, and finally so very many Mr. Potato Heads along with all their various accessories.

My parents were over to help pack and we were making sure the toys didn't get tangled in with other things. I had gathered most of the toys but we were missing one bum for a Mr. Potato Head. I sent my mom to find it. She dissapered into the living room for a substantial amount of time. Finally she comes back into my room, where I was packing up some clothes.

Mom: "I found the bum, or maybe a tongue mouth thingy. I'm not sure."
Me: "How are you not sure? Does it look like a tongue or a bum."
Mom: "I don't know!"
Me: "Is it red or beige?"
Mom: "Red."
Me: "That is a tongue. It's a potato not a baboon."

We venture back to the living room together and look for all of 10 seconds before I find the missing back end. It was very logically placed in the Little People house bathroom. This is the obvious choice, where else would a bum belong?

Me: "Found it."
Mom: "Oh that is what you meant. I was looking for something else."
Me: ...
Mom: "You know, I thought there was some kind of bum attachment."
Me: "What kind of potatos do you play with?!"

I still can't figure out what the hell my mother thought she was looking for.

Wednesday 18 October 2017

Are you smarter then a toddler

Today we ventured out to my grandma's house. We hadn't been in a while and it was lovely visit. The kids were thrilled with the grilled cheese sandwiches and stoked to play with the ancient car collection. As per usual for us I tried to cram far to much into the day and stayed a little longer then I should have. I always seem to forget just how long it takes to put children in a car. As I was once again rushing away to our next destination Isaac spilled a few drops of juice on the sidewalk. Apparently terrified that he might drown in the minuscule puddle he was paralyzed with fear. He was also distressed at the terrible mess he had made (I guess the rest of the wreckage he leaves in his wake is ambience.) It took a few minutes of convincing him that some birds would come have a drink and clean up after him. This appeased the tiny dictator but made it him absolutely refuse to get in the car because he needed to see the birds with his own eyes. I'm not sure what it says about me that my three year old was calling my bullshit.

Tuesday 17 October 2017

There's a storm coming

I'm having a tough day. I feel anxious, depressed, and scared. I am moody and my body is literally aching all over. I knew this was coming. I knew this week would be really hard for me.

We had Isaac's eeg yesterday and waiting for the results is so hard. The nurse we usually talk with was on holidays for the last two weeks and while I realize that of course she is entitled to vacation (and probably desperately needs on after dealing with crazy, overbearing parents like me), it felt like I had been set a drift without a paddle. Before she left she did touch base with us and leave a few numbers in case we needed someone. She also promised to review Isaac's eeg with the neurologist and phone us with the results the next day. Ya that hasn't happened. She is done work in one hour and I haven't heard from her. I did call and leave a voicemail reminding her (and maybe called a million more times but hung up when I got the voicemail.) In the mean time I am desperately trying to find ways to distract myself.

This morning the kids slept in late, Zoey until 930 and Isaac until 10. This wasn't surprising to me, especially for Isaac since we had to sleep deprive him for the eeg. The phone rang around 9 and I lunged for it hoping it might be the neurology clinic. It wasn't. Although that was a slight disappointment, I was thrilled to hear my cousins voice on the other side. She is one of my very best friends and although she moved recently we try to keep in touch often. We spent hours on the phone catching up. The conversation went as most do when tiny children are involved on both ends. We talked to each other over the conversation of little kids (Isaac wanted to know all about the toys at Ollie's house and Ollie was desperately trying to convince Isaac to come over.) It was fantastic and therapeutic and I loved every minute of it. Once we realized it was nearly noon we decided to go our separate ways and get on with our days.

I had spent a lot of the conversation gathering supplies to take the kids to the library and run some errands. After consuming an inhumane number of fruit bars, goldfish, juice boxes and yogurt tubes my monkeys were ready to jump in the car. It only took me about six trips to gather them and all their crap into the vehicle before I pulled out of the garage.

As soon as I got on the highway and experienced the wind gusting so strongly we were almost blown off the road I regretted my decision. I didn't turn back though, the kids would have been devastated and the tears would have been endless. So I white knuckled it and made the drive.

The library was nice, the minions actually went and played independently for a whole 30 minutes! I sat in a chair and was left alone to peruse a few new crochet books I found. Things were really peaceful until another kid dared to think they might be able to play with some of the library toys. All of the sudden there were tiny fists flying and tears rolling down many chubby cheeks. I decided to simply remove my little monsters and get them involved in picking some new books. We came home with three bags worth of movies, cds, and books.

Once home I put the kids down for naps and thought I might do some homework. I sat down at the table opened the computer and stared at the screen for 10 minutes before I realized my own tears were soaking the keypad.

This day is hard, tomorrow might be too. Yesterday sucked. This whole week might blow. Things will turn around. Until then I shall drown my sorrows in copious amounts of carbohydrates and the world of netflix. I can totally manage to finish two papers and pack an entire house for a move in the next 13 days, right?

Saturday 14 October 2017

The other woman

I posted a little while ago about our search for a nanny, well we are lucky enough to have found one. So far I adore her! She thinks nothing of tidying the house or throwing on a load of laundry. She takes the kids outside everyday. She comes in last minute when I call her and say I'd like to pick up a shift. The kids love her, the dog loves her, and we love her. This isn't even the best part... I've trained her for post seizure care, seizure first aid, and how to give Isaac his medications. I'd still like to have her go through an official course done by the epilepsy foundation but for now I'm ok with training her myself (I am a nurse who works with seizure kids on a frequent basis so I know what I am doing.)

This week marked a major milestone for Isaac and I. He has a seizure, it was early morning when he was first waking up. He was upset and scared afterwords, plus his tongue hurt from  being bitten during the seizure. I have never left him after a seizure, he is always so scared and wants mama snuggles after. I can not describe the feelings I have when he seizes, my mama heart breaks, it rips into a million tiny pieces. Watching this sweet, outgoing, adventures boy be reduced to a tiny quivering ball of tears is the heart wrenching, soul shattering, and completely devastating. This week though I felt that it was time, I know this is something we are going to battle for the rest of our lives and even though I am so not ready I need to find a way. So I left, I went to work. I put in my 8 hours and I came home. The nanny did wonderfully, she cared for him perfectly, and he was safe and ok. I can't lie though it was the longest, hardest shift of my life. I love my job, if I'm in the NICU, on the burns and plastics ward, assigned to the trauma unit, or wherever else I am always stoked to be there. I pour 110% of myself into caring for other people's children. This shift was no different I gave my all, but this time I hated being there. I was thinking of my baby the entire time and all I wanted was to be home rubbing his head with his blanket and reading stories to him.

I found the strength this time... honestly I don't know if I ever will again.

Tuesday 10 October 2017

Kick me while I'm down

So I am currently facing a dilemma. It is one that many working parents face, especially if they have a child with special needs. I have developed a reputation of being unreliable at work and as a result I am not getting shifts. I understand from my colleagues perspective the frustration of being left short staffed, they are over worked and under appreciate. I know that they need to be able to count on people to show up, take over, and relieve them for the few hours of respite between shifts. Honestly though I am really angry right now. I feel betrayed. I feel boxed out, and I feel stabbed in the back.

When I started my job I was so excited to be there, and every time I go to work I feel the same way. I am lucky enough to have a job I love! Sure there are crappy moments, but the good moments... OH MY GOD they are AMAZING!! Those moments of watching a baby get better, the first time a baby can do skin to skin, the first moment parents get to see their baby with no wire, the first successful time a baby latches, the first bath, the first cry, of seeing a mom bond for the first time... I can not express the joy, the love, and the passion I feel.

I am sick to my stomach at the thought of losing this job. It is the dream I never knew I had until I stepped into the NICU but my family will always come first. Any parent can tell you that part. Somehow in spite of the hours I have put in, the blood, sweat, tears and sacrifice I have given I am being boxed out. I have worked double shifts, short shifted for straight time, come early, stayed late, missed breaks, gone entire shifts without taking a minute to pee. I know I am not the only one who does this, in fact most of my colleagues due, it is part of what makes the bonds of nursing staff so strong. Now I need help, I need compassion, I need understanding. I know it is so frustrating when my name comes up on the list and they wonder if I am coming. I know it is upsetting when once again I call and say I am not coming at the last minute. If you think it doesn't kill me to make that call, if you think I do not realize the impact this has on my patients and on my coworkers, if you think I would rather be missing work to do what I am doing you are wrong. That phone call is being made out of literal desperation. I am actually sitting on the floor with my unconscious toddler, watching him turn blue. I am counting respirations, checking his pulse, delivering a rescue medication, removing hazards from around his head, and making sure he does not aspirate the foam and blood that comes from his mouth. I count the seconds, I watch the clock, and I hold my breath waiting to see if the rescue med will work. Will the seizures stop? Will he keep breathing? Should I call the ambulance? Is this the time he isn't going to make it?

Yep I am unreliable, I am not a good coworker, I am not a good friend. I am a GREAT mom! I hope you can understand.

Sunday 1 October 2017

We got ghosted

I thought that getting ghosted was something that only happened to people in the dating world, really only people on apps like tinder. Turns out I was very wrong. We had the terrible experience of our whole family being ghosted today.

We've been desperately searching for a nanny pretty much since our last one up and quit after her wedding. It was sad and frustrating although not all that surprising to me. There were two really crappy parts to it... first my kids adored her and as a result so did I (there may have been more then one occasion I told Shane I would leave him for her), and secondly she quit through a text message (ugh millennials, shut up I know I am technically one.) Any way this search has been soul crushingly difficult. I know I am asking a lot for a person to drive half an hour out of the city and watch my children for 10 hours a day but I am only looking for two days a week, maybe more if I can get enough shifts at the three different hospitals I work at. We are also asking this person to take care of the dog during the days they are here and to hopefully be willing to switch to a city commute in a couple of months. It is a very high expectation I know, I am willing to pay decently. On top of this we have added in the challenge of Isaac being special needs with his epilepsy care. Call me crazy but when I was a nanny I would have definitely taken the job.

So back to today... after several failed interviews and even more wasted conversations we finally had found someone we thought was a pretty good fit. I had been messaging her for a couple of weeks and explained the job including all the quirky parts. We set up an interview and I got my hopes set pretty high. This morning we woke up early, dressed and fed the kids, tidied the house, and made ourselves presentable. Then we waited.... and waited... and waited.... NOTHING! Not an email, not a phone call, not an IM through the nanny board, nothing! We thought maybe she got lost. We waited an hour. Finally we gave up, had lunch and put the kids to bed. This was interspersed with toddler demands to make cookies and put up the Halloween decorations they managed to unbury from the pantry. My hopes of a beautiful angel floating into my life and lovingly caring for my children while simultaneously keeping the house from looking like a tornado struck, and walking the dog, had once again been dashed. The high hopes I had of no longer having to be awake for 36 hours in a row just to work a shift were shattered.

Guess it is back to the drawing board, or at least the nanny postings. First though it is time for sleep. I woke up and sacrificed precious pre-night shift sleep for this terrible waste of time. Maybe I will at least have some dreams of the perfect nanny... maybe I should hire the hot 20 year old manny that applied a couple months ago...