Peanut

My little Peanut is developing into quite a little character. He is very funny and of course, very cute. I also love that he is outgoing and friendly to everyone. There is no one he will not say hello to whether walking in the store, or driving by people on street corners. What amazes me still is how people will always wave back and smile at him. As an introvert myself, I find myself in shock at times at the responses he gets. He just expects that people will respond back to him and then they do. Maybe that is why, because he has no inhibitions or hang-ups. Or it could be that he is a very cute, blue-eyed blonde with an infectious smile and charismatic personality.

Today, he really made me laugh. I was putting on his shoes and he gave me a foot. I said, "No, the other one." So he changed and I thought I would take the opportunity to have a teachable moment and so I said, "Peanut, this is your right foot. Do you know what that one is called?"

Very matter-a-factly, he replied, "The other foot."

Like I said, he's very cute and very funny!

Toothpaste

I have a love-hate thing with toothpaste. I have not picked a favorite brand. I guess I am not real fussy as long as it does the job and tastes good. I have tried different types for my kids as well. The problem is that it never goes where it is supposed to. Toothpaste has been squirted out on to the sink, the counter, the light switch...even out the window. I have found it on the walls, rubbed all over towels and very seldom on a toothbrush. I have tried every type of container to see if I can find something that is not as tempting to squirt out. Nothing works.

Now I am going to have to resort to keeping it in my bathroom and the kids will have to check it out from me.

However, this week my problem with toothpaste was purely my own. It had nothing to do with the kids. Somehow, I still can't quite figure out how, I wound up getting toothpaste in my eye. If you have ever gotten shampoo in your eye, let me tell you, toothpaste is FAR FAR worse. My eye was stinging all day long.

Now I think I can no longer trust myself with toothpaste. Maybe I will have to have the neighbor keep the tube and we can all go over there twice a day, armed with empty toothbrushes for our twice daily allotment.

Catches of Conversation

So, we were driving along in the car when I hear Banana Boy reciting some idioms that he is pondering. He is pretty accurate in his interpretation. We had been out looking at a house that we are hoping to move into and I think all the kids were talking about it, when Banana Boy says, "Well, don't count your chickens before they hatch."

Peanut chimes in, "Yeah! And if a chicken does cross the road, you have to stop!"

Banana Boy counters with, "Nooo, what it means is that you can't count on something until it happens."

Later in the evening, we were watching the 2nd Spiderman movie on TV and my middle son whom I call Pumpkin (although he prefers to be known as Pumpkinhead Pie Face"), blurts out,

"It's not a great idea to fight while you are falling."

My kids amuse me greatly!!

Peanut's First Joke

Peanut says: "Why did the cow eat the sandwich?"

Mom says, "I don't know. Why did the cow eat the sandwich?"

Peanut: "Because he was hungry."

I love kids!

Conversations in the Car

Today did not go the way I had planned it. But it ended in a way I could have never planned and for that very ending, I would not change a thing about my day.

I was commenting to a friend yesterday that I am really enjoying my more regular hours...having time in the evening and having every weekend off. It has done a lot for my own mental health to have more predictable days.

But then along comes Monday. "Monday, Monday, Can't trust that day..."

I began shifting into work-mind as I took my shower and planned an outfit for the day. I said good-bye to the kids and drove to Stillwater to start my work day. The morning went well. I had an appointment and the client has made improvements, so that is alway gratifying. And then I got some paperwork started. Next thing I know it's lunch with a co-worker and then a meeting with my supervisor. From there things started to go off track.

Ordinarily, I work til 4:30 but today, Banana Boy had a doctor appt in Minneapolis and I had to leave at 2:30. I have a client who is on a blood thinner and his medication changes daily sometimes. I called the doctor's nurse and asked her to get back to me by 2pm so I would have time to see my client before leaving for my son's appt. She didn't get back to me until 2:30. And suddenly I have a dilemma..a client who needs his meds, a son who needs this appt because he needs medication too and not enough time to do it all. So, I decided that I would "wing it" and pick up B B and then swing by the client's home after B.B.'s appt. Sounds fairly reasonable.

BUT....

Banana Boy is at school in Brooklyn Park. It takes 40 minutes to get to the school. His doctor is in Minneapolis but that only took us 15 minutes to get to. We finish with the doctor a little after 5pm...then have to wait at the pharmacy for his new med and now we get back on the road at 5:30. What I did NOT factor into my plan was TRAFFIC. So, it took 45 minutes to get over to St. Paul and then it only took me 5 minutes to set up the client's meds and get back on the road...and back through St. Paul and Minneapolis to home in Brooklyn Park at 7:05.

I was feeling very frazzled and upset with the inefficiency of my day and IF things had gone the way I had it laid out in my mind, Banana Boy and I could have been at home by 6pm. Also adding to my FRAZZLED mind was the said traffic, bumper to bumper, side mirror to side mirror as far as I can see. Banana Boy has been chatting happily, playing with my cell phone and making changes (but that is another story for another time). Suddenly, B. B. says to me, "Mom, I sure do like our conversations, when it is just me and you. Don't you?"

So, Purpletulip, s-----l-----o------w down! Listen to this precious child who sees this aggrivating situation as a special time to bond with mom. As they say in the Visa commercials, "Priceless". And it made all the hectic, harried, stress and aggrivation all melt away and I began to listen carefully to what my son had to say and I realized that this conversation in the car was giving me a rare glimpse into the world of my son, who on top of being very bright and full of questions, has a special place in my heart because of his ADHD challenges. Life will not be easy for this boy. He has a voracious appetite for information and an amazing ability to sort through layers of complexity in every day life and then make it jive with his 8 year old brain. And this drizzly afternoon, racing across the Twin Cities and back was something that he took away as being very special.

Realistically, and because I am well aware of my own limitations, I would not want another crazy, inefficient, frustrating day like that again but if it meant that I somehow managed to touch a deep part of one of my children, I would gladly do it again.

Wednesday

My Mom and I have this running joke that comes from watching Olympic gymnastics. When the athlete completes the routine and lands on the mat, they do this little footwork, with a flourishing wave and the announcer will say "...And they stuck the landing." Sometimes, that was the only stellar part of the performance. My Mom and my joke began when one of us would have a less than graceful moment and as we tried to regain our composure, we would say, "At least I stuck my landing."

On Wednesday, I was trying to find a building in downtown St. Paul for a monthly meeting. I began my downward spiral that ended with an "ungraceful performance". After I spent 10 minutes driving around the same 4 block radius, looking for 400 Sibley, which IS NOT, by the way, on the block between 3rd and 4th... I parked my car and began to wander aimlessly. I must have grabbed the attention of the hot dog vendor because she asked me what I was trying to find. Probably a slow day for the hot dog business. She suggested I head down toward 3rd. I walked all the way to Kellogg and knew it was not right. At this point, I figured I had two options, call my boss and cry for help or go home, hanging my head in shame, knowing I had been defeated by the city of St. Paul. At that point, I was fine with either option.

However, my boss called me back and I explained my problem and he offered to come down and meet me on the corner to show me where to go. I was close but not close enough. I saw him standing on the corner and began to cross the street. He started talking to me and next thing I know, I lost my footing, and fell down hard on my hands and knees...my right knee in particular.

Not only was my boss an eye witness, and he gave me a hand up, but there were many other people in the area who also so my performance. I did not stick the landing.

But I got a day off. And a visit to the workman's comp doc.Not to mention a HUGE bruise on my knee and a scraped palm. It will be fun watching it change colors over the next week.

Don't Blow My Cover

RN. That's me. I worked hard to be able to put that RN behind my name. And in my profession, it does give me certain degree of credibility and clout, if you will. People listen to what I have to say or ask me questions about medical issues, hoping I have the answers. I like that aspect of my job. I feel it is what I was called to do. God gave me a sharp mind and lead me through school and gave me what I needed to in order to put those credentials behind my name.

But when my youngest was sick this weekend and I feared it was strept throat, I had to decide whether or not to blow my cover and display my credentials.

I really did struggle with this. What was my motivation for telling the nurse or the doctor that I was a nurse? Did I want to foster comaraderie and medical professionalism, as we, the mom and medical professional along with the staff, determine the nature of the illness that was plaguing my son and thus decide on the best course of action for his treatmant? Or did I want to wipe away the smug look and the condescending attitude I sensed from the urgent care nurse?

I feared it was the latter. So, I bit my tongue.

The nurse asked about symptoms and I described them: sore throat, fever, no cough, lethargy and irritability. I think I sounded intelligent without sounding like a smarty-pants. But when she asked what his temp had been, I said, "Well, I didn't actually take a temp but I figured it was fairly high...around 102." (Insert the condescending look here. And I imagined the nurse was thinking, "Well, it probably is just a little above normal...and WHY didn't you take his temp?")

A mom knows. She knows her child has a temperature because his face is also extremely flushed, his eyes look glassy and he is miserable. This child also had a febrile seizure a year ago and I am not too inclined to let him spike a temp, so I give him Motrin early on. HA!!!

But I didn't say these things. I kept my cover. And I bit my tongue. But I still struggle with my attitude. Maybe it is pride because I do have these initials that follow my name when I am in my professional realm. In the real world, the line between profession and motherhood is a little blurred. I have knowledge from nursing school but I also have a lot of knowledge about my kids and have always had a good sense when they were sick and needed to go to the doctor. It's expensive to go for every sniffle and I don't go running in for every skinned knee or bumped head. I use my judgement and spend money wisely. However, on occasion, I would like to blow my cover and announce to all who can hear that I am:

Mom, RN