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The Tater Tot’s words of the day are “overachiever” and “accessible”. “What the heck?”, you ask. These are the words that Tater Tot repeated completely clearly while I was having a conversation with the preschool teacher today. We were talking about a relative who has her entire house decorated for Christmas, all of her hundreds of presents bought and wrapped and under the tree and just had a hysterectomy two weeks ago. I said, “Overachiever!” and Tater Tot parroted back “Overachiever” perfectly clearly! We all about fell out laughing. Later we were singing “Head and Shoulders, Knees and Toes” and she commented that Tater Tot’s toes were right there (Uh, I forgot her shoes today…yeah, not winning Mother of the Year) and I said they were “accessible”. Loudly and clearly she says “accessible!”. I swear this kid cracks me up…

And, yes, you read that right. I got all the way to preschool and realized that The Tot had socks on but no shoes. Gak! I have no idea how that happened. I knew right where the shoes were that I had planned to put on her but, between getting her sippy cup, my shoes and sunglasses, making sure the diaper bag was stocked with the essentials, and getting out the door on time, that little detail was missed. I knew that there was a WalMart down the street from the preschool so I thought I’d just pop in and get her an inexpensive pair of new shoes. I was so proud of myself for thinking on my feet when I realized (in the WalMart parking lot, of course) that I had left my wallet upstairs by the computer when I was renewing our library books. Oh Good Lord! What the heck happened to my brain today? Did it leak out my ears? On top of that all, I had not written down when I had snack duty and thought it was next week but wasn’t 100% sure. There was a little niggling in the back of my brain that said “You’d better call just to make sure”. Thankfully she called me back and let me know that I didn’t have snack duty this week because I was only 75% prepared. It would have been a much more hectic morning than it already was.

Can you imagine what a wreck I would be with more than one child? I don’t even want to think about it.

No, I’m not putting her in day care and going back to work. Tater Tot and I are going to “Pre-School” today! At least that’s what our city rec department calls it. It’s basically a Mommy and Me playgroup dealie that I signed us up for since I have been negligent in making it to the Mommy Group events that are free! Yeah, leave it to me. I’m not winning any Mother of The Year awards. As she has had precious little interaction with other children (and I have had the same amount with other mothers!), I thought it’d be a good idea. I think she’ll enjoy it judging from her reactions to other kids at the park and the beach. She walks up and just looks at them and grins. She’s not overly outgoing, just curious. So, we’ll see! I’ll let you know how it goes…

UPDATE: She had fun! She was the only child that cried during all of the transitions and had a security item with her (yes, Mr. Duckie did come with us!) but, overall, she had a great time! It was very cute that she talked so much. More than any other child, for sure. Even during Quiet Time. From the very beginning when I was filling out our heart-shaped name tags, she piped up “Hearta, hearta.” And “Nummy, nummy.” during Quiet Snack Time. She’s still a little shy around other kids, though. Interested in what they’re doing but when they approach her too quickly, “Mommy!” and she comes a-runnin’. I tried really hard to stand back and let her go instead of hover but with her feeling so obviously insecure the first day, I hate to say, I hovered a lot. But there were times when she was across the room doin’ her thing and I was just watching. She’ll get there. Or should I say “We’ll get there”?

This is what The Tot tells anyone who is trying to hug or love on her when she is interested in doing something other than hugging or loving. And, yes, it’s all my fault. One day when I asked “Can Mommy have Little Huggies?” and she got flustered (I took that to be a “no”), I said “That’s okay, Tater Tot is busy, busy, busy.” And of course she repeated “Bissy, bissy, bissy.” So now she automatically says “Bissy, bissy, bissy” when someone tries to invade her space. I doubt she really knows what it means but it’s clear that she knows that it keeps her from having to do something that she doesn’t want to do right that minute (having her personal space invaded). And that’s what matters. It doesn’t sound cuddly and lovey that there are times that my child doesn’t want to be hugged by me or anyone else but that’s who she is. She is plenty affectionate at other times when she is not intent on exploring the entire universe (and she does want to explore it all!). I’m secretly glad that I inadvertently taught her “bissy, bissy” because it helps her to assert her independence. If she can stand up to me, she surely can stand up to the poor influences that will cross her path down the road, right? I am not going to be The Mommy that insists that The Tot kisses her Auntie So-And-So or Grandma or Whoever. She’ll kiss them if she wants to. If not, they’ll know that they’ve got a little more work to do getting to know her before she wants to be affectionate with them. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to let her be rude but I also won’t let other people break the boundaries that she feels comfortable with. Hey, can you tell I’ve thought about this a little? Yeah, I know. I think A LOT.

*Heavy Sigh* It’s been a long couple of days. Wednesday was not fun and yesterday we were recuperating. Let me rephrase that: I was recuperating and The Tater Tot was running circles around me all day while I tried to get her to slow down.

Wednesday started out well just like every other day at our house. Up at the crack of dawn, “music and dancing” when we get up to ease the indignation at having to have the diapers changed (she hates diaper changes these days), breakfast and a walk, playtime, nap time…you get the picture. Just percolating along as usual. Until Tater Tot took a spill that freaked me out. The way that she fell was such that I thought it best to take her to the Urgent Care facility just in case. I am a Cautious Mommy and am not prone to being laid back about all things physical/medical.

After the fall, Tater cried for a couple of minutes. Mostly, I think, because I screamed bloody murder and scooped her up, walking frantically around the house telling her that she was okay. After she stopped crying, she seemed fine but I was absolutely NOT fine so I loaded her in the car and we set out for Urgent Care.

While waiting at Urgent Care, The Tater Tot had the overwhelming urge to walk around the waiting room and, since some of it was tile, I took her socks off so she wouldn’t slip. We walked and walked and walked while everyone around smiled and told me she was just the cutest thing. Once we got in the waiting room I realized that her feet were nearing black in color. Hmmm…clean the waiting room much?

Apparently, the doctor we saw is as conservative as I am about all things medical and he recommended at least having her x-rayed. They couldn’t do that at Urgent Care. Why, I don’t know. So we had to go to the Emergency Room. Okay. Not great but not the end of the world. Although he wanted to transport us by ambulance, which I thought was a bit much since she was showing no signs that anything was wrong. But I understand they have protocol and all that. Wouldn’t have been a big deal. The local ER is three blocks from Urgent Care. Super. Let’s go. Uh, they’re on “bypass” whatever the heck that means. We get to take a half hour ambulance ride halfway down the county to the children’s hospital instead. All the while, Tater Tot is crying and agitated since they had to strap her car seat onto a gurney to transport her in the ambulance. Seriously, she was laughing and “talking” to me the whole way to Urgent Care without a single tear or concern. It would have been much better for her if they would have let me load her in her freakin’ car seat in MY car and just driven her down there myself. Protocol. What-freakin’-ever!

So I am using all available energy to calm her down and get her to the point where the paramedic in the ambulance can take her vitals continuously on the half hour ride after spending 20 minutes waiting for them to get the green light to even load her in the stupid ambulance and I realize that I have had to pee since we got to Urgent Care over an hour ago. I am agitated.

Since this is already a very long story, I’ll begin abbreviating. I spent 4 1/2 hours at the children’s hospital, 3 1/2 of which was spent holding and rocking The Tater Tot before The Daddy arrived. We spent a total of 15 minutes face time (if that) with anybody much less the doctor and were sent home with—luckily—nothing wrong.

On the ride home, I am in the back with Tater Tot dialing the phone trying to get ahold of the Urgent Care facility where my car is still parked to see if they tow if I leave it overnight. Since it is already an hour past Tater’s bed time and we are all pretty exhausted, we’re hoping that they don’t. I finally get ahold of them and they are nice enough to tell the security guard that I will be back to pick up my car after The Daddy gets off work the next day so they won’t tow it. I look over and Tater has eaten half of the hot pink “Visitor” sticker that I stuck on her for fun and she has her black, dirty foot in her mouth. I swear they’re going to yank my Mommy License and never give it back.

When we get home, I feed The Tot and put her down while The Daddy is off getting us dinner from the local fast food place since we never do that and we are both feeling the need for french fries. An hour, many fries and an ice cream Drumstick later, I am almost passed out on the couch so I go to bed, grateful that the day is over.

Yesterday I observed Tater closely all day and tried to get her to slow down but she wasn’t havin’ it. She seems fine and is acting normal so I’m sure she’s okay. *Exhale* Phew. Did I forget to breathe?

Every morning, The Tater Tot and I go for a walk/jog/whatever around our neighborhood. Some days are jogs for Mommy and other days are walks for Tater Tot to touch the leaves and flowers. Hot pink flowers, little purple flowers, red and green leaves, short palm fronds, ivy, and so many more! We see and feel sprinklers and doggies and wave to the people walking by us. It doesn’t ever get too cold here during the winter but you can still feel a difference when “Spring has sprung”. And our neighbors’ landscaping sure does look different during the Spring season. Everything comes alive.

The other day, as we were eating our lunch, Tater Tot pointed to her sippy cup that has flowers on it. Vwa-vwa. Vwa-vwa-vwa-vwa *high-pitched sing-song*. Points to the tulips on the dining table “vwa-vwa’. So I’m singing “vwa-vwa-vwa” back to her when I finally realize that there is a pattern here. “Yes, Sweetie, those are flowers.” Duh, Mommy.

Spring has sprung and the vwa-vwas are in bloom!

Disclaimer: I have one of “these days” every once in a while and I need to rant. Most days are good even if I am tired but today is an exception and I need to get it out of my system. I will return to regularly scheduled programming soon.

Today is one of “those days”. I am exhausted and I don’t know why. I have no job outside of the home, one child, and a supportive husband. I also have Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis which basically means that my body recognizes my thyroid gland as a foreign object and tries to destroy it, but I’m on thyroid replacement medication for that so that shouldn’t be an issue. My last test results were “within normal limits”. I don’t sleep enough but I did last night. I exercise and eat right most of the time. So why is it that I feel like my ass is dragging today? Dragging so hard that I’m leaving track marks behind me. (Attractive picture, isn’t it?) I’m still holding onto that extra weight and flab that I’ve been trying to get rid of for a year and even though I don’t eat refined carbs and eat more fruits and vegetables than I used to, I still feel like crap more days than I’d like. Is this just part of my new reality or is there something wrong? Should I expect more from life or is this the best I’m going to feel? Am I just getting old? I will be 39 in 5 1/2 months and there are days when I have never felt worse…except before I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s but that was so long ago that I don’t hardly remember what that felt like.

I recognize also that I have always set extremely high standards for myself both personally and professionally. I think that I put pressure on myself where there may not be outside pressure to do things as well as my standards dictate. Being a stay-at-home mommy and housewife is no exception to that. If I have a job, I will work hard at it. My job right now is to take care of my beautiful little girl and our house. And maybe I put too much pressure on myself to do these things perfectly. But doesn’t everyone else have it all under control with only one kid? Isn’t it supposed to be easy with only one? How do I not have enough time or energy? Nevermind that I’m always “on” even if she’s napping. That’s when the laundry gets shifted, the breakfast/lunch mess gets cleaned up and miscellaneous crap gets done. When you add exercise and diet to lose weight into the mix, it throws me over the edge. Maybe I’ve just shifted the focus of my mildly obsessive/perfectionistic tendencies from mainly on my professional life to my personal life since there isn’t a professional life to speak of. Thankfully, I have not shifted those tendencies to Tater Tot. They are squarely focused on my performance, not hers, and I intend to keep it that way. If I keep those tendencies, that is. I’d like to get rid of them. They’re not really very helpful and I suspect that they play a large role in my periodic difficulty sleeping.

Then there’s always the fact that women of the generations before me didn’t have the benefit of all the support that I have and they handled it. That makes me feel even more whiny and stupid for being so tired and frustrated and needing to “vent”. Maybe I’m just too self-indulgent and I need to “suck it up”. Maybe I just need to change my perspective, embrace my Inner Housewife, and realize that this is what the job is. It’s 24-7 so be sure you take your coffee break when you can (uh, nap when she naps, anyone?). I chose this job. Heck, I wanted this job so bad I couldn’t think about anything else. I took my temperature faithfully every morning before getting out of bed for months and peed on more sticks than I cared to count! What do you mean you’d like to go on a trip with the guys? I’m ovulating!

I sometimes have a hard time differentiating between the pressure I put on myself and the pressure society puts on mothers but I think that it’s there. I think that society does have unrealistic expectations of what mothers can/should be able to do and I think (ok, I know) that I’ve bought into them!

I’m coming to the conclusion that I am a perfectionistic wuss who needs to let go of some stuff. I don’t think I need to suck it up necessarily but I do need to change my perspective every once in a while and lower my expectations of myself. I need to realize that I can only do what I can do and that The Tater Tot will be just fine if she eats a couple of jars of Gerber 3rd Foods instead of home made baby food, wears a couple of disposable diapers, or watches the Baby Einstein DVD twice in a day every once in a while. I need to realize that I am doing a good job, heck, even an excellent job with her and that I need to cut myself some slack. I am in pretty good shape for an almost 39 year old woman who has had a child. I need to put my feet up during her naps and watch stupid TV or read a book or sleep, for heaven’s sake! I think that cutting myself some slack will help me sleep better which will help me feel better which will help me be better.

Okay, rant is over. Good timing. I hear the Tater Tot waking up from her nap. Hey, let’s go play “Lay Down On The Floor And Play With Mommy”!

Thanks for reading…I’ll be back to regularly scheduled programming tomorrow. Does anybody else ever feel this way? Slip me a comment and let me know!

No, Princess Tater Tot isn’t sick again.  I spoke too soon when I said the long week is over, however.  She was up four times last night and I’m thrashed.  She took a two hour nap this morning but, unfortunately, that was the only time I had to do a Costco run so The Daddy got the benefit of that nap time.  So, here I am limping through the last 2 1/2 hours of Tater Tot’s day and praying that whatever woke her up last night does not tonight.

Speaking of whatever woke her up, I have no idea what it was.  She’d fall back asleep fairly quickly only to wake up crying 15 minutes later.  I did a diaper check, a snot check, gave her teething tablets and even Tylenol but she still didn’t get back to sleep until after midnight.  There’s nothing like not being able to figure out what’s wrong with your one year old to make you feel like Crappy Mommy.  I guess I figured that by the time she was one year old I should be able to figure this stuff out.  Apparently I can’t.  If you’ve got it all figured out by now, by all means, please let me know the secret!

We’ve had a long 24 hours.  I put The Tot down at 6:30 last night after a long, fussy day and settled in to watch the last episodes of the Scrubs – The Complete First Season DVD I had rented from Netflix.  I got through the last one just as Tater Tot woke up fussing.  Since she had a blow out diaper yesterday and a fever, I figured I should go in and change her when normally I would let her “work it out” unless she was crying hard.  I changed her and started rocking her when I felt her twitch.  And twitch.  And twitch some more.  Unlike any other falling-asleep twitching I had experienced with her.  It happened about every 3-5 seconds for about 15 minutes but she wasn’t falling asleep.  She was drowsy, for sure, but she didn’t fall asleep. So I got scared.  Particularly since she had a fever and I knew that kids with fevers could have seizures.  I called the Nurse Hotline and they tried to get ahold of the pediatrician on call.  No luck.  They recommended that I take her in, which I did.  Oh, Good Lord, what a freak show there was at our local ER.  I had no idea. Honestly.  

Unfortunately, Tater Tot had to have her temperature taken rectally not only once, but twice.  I had hoped to avoid that lovely experience in her childhood but I guess it wasn’t meant to be.  She was decidedly unhappy about the whole experience.  Even the benign stuff like the sticker they put on her to find her pulse.  It’s just a sticker!  But she wailed like a banshee.  Between the necessary stuff was the waiting.  And waiting.  And waiting some more.  She was perfectly happy to look at all the new surroundings and “interesting” people and babble to Mommy and Daddy.  So we stood around (she wouldn’t let me sit) waiting for 2 1/2 hours until the doc got to us.  I described what I felt and he asked detailed questions about it.  You know what it was?  The doc thought it was pre-sleep twitches.  Admittedly at an unusual frequency and duration but pre-sleep twitches nonetheless.  Back off, Ladies, Mother of The Year is mine! 

So we spent three hours in the middle of the night at the ER because my daughter was sleepy and twitching.  Huh.  That made me feel pretty stupid.  Even though I feel moderately stupid, I know I did the right thing.  I had not known the difference between a febrile seizure and pre-sleep twitches (myoclonic movements) and now I do.  If something had happened to Princess Tater Tot because I didn’t look into it, I would never have been able to forgive myself.  Sometimes I wish I could be more laid back but I’m just not.  “Better safe than sorry”.

Needless to say, we’ve had an unusual day since neither of us got enough sleep.  The schedule was screwed and I just “winged it” all day.  I’ll be relieved when it’s tomorrow afternoon and we have a better idea of what is wrong with her (and what isn’t)!

It’s funny the things that you take for granted.  When I can vacuum, I don’t particularly want to but now that I can’t, I would like to vacuum almost more than anything.  Why can’t I vacuum?  Princess Tater Tot does not like the vacuum.  Okay, that is the understatement of the year.  She loathes the vacuum.   I try to vacuum and she screams and cries like her life depends on it.  It’s actually quite scary and disturbing to see.  I experimented the other day with putting her in her high chair with a tasty snack while I vacuumed thinking that, since food is one of her favorite things in the world, she would be distracted enough to let me vacuum.  Oh Good Lord was I wrong!  It took 10 minutes after the vacuum was off to calm her down!  It took picking her up out of her high chair, swaying and humming, looking at all of the pictures of Mommy and Daddy, and The Grandmas and Grandpas, and the Princess Tater Tot calendar to get her back to her Happy Place.  Needless to say, I won’t be experimenting with that again any time soon. 

My instinct was to expose her gradually to it and let her cry a little but continue to expose her so she gets used to it.  “A little” was not anywhere close to how much she was crying so I’m thinking we need to go back to our current arrangement: let the dog hair build up until The Mommy absolutely can’t stand it anymore (or until we can make a life-sized dog out of the hair on the carpet), then have either The Mommy or The Daddy take The Tot out on a walk while the other one vacuums.  Strange, but it’s what’s working for now.  Somebody please tell me she’ll grow out of this soon!

I bet you think I’m going to write about food or clothing, don’t you?  Nope.  Although I do have those leanings toward organic food and eco-friendly/body-friendly/non-synthetic clothing, I am a walking dichotomy.  I have been known to shop at major discount stores where just about nothing is organic to save money.  A Mommy has to strike a balance wherever she can.  I’d love to have the luxury of spending as much as I’d need to in order to be completely eco-friendly but in this one-income household, we need to prioritize.  But, I digress.

I wasn’t I’m not going to write about organic food or clothing today.  I’m writing about letting things happen organically.  Last week during our First Birthday Picture Extravaganza  we found a cute little area in the mall with these fiberglass cars, crawl tunnel, bridge, funky mirrors, and twirly things on the walls that had a TON of kids running around.  So we waited for our pictures to develop while playing and watching the other kids.  Tater Tot had a ball and, I think, developed a crush on a little boy while there (she just kept staring at him and tried to reach out and touch him).  We had a good time.  So, today after our major discount store run we went over there to play again.  I knew I was pushing it trying to get a store run and some play time in before we got home but I thought she’d enjoy it.  Well, when we got there, there were 5 kids there and three of them were screaming their heads off and running around at breakneck speeds.  Needless to say, Tater Tot, who doesn’t get out much was a little frightened by it and clung to The Mommy.  Then I started to smell a smell that I hoped was not coming from my child.  But wherever we went, there it was.  So I could only conclude that it could possibly be coming from The Tot.  Time to go because I pulled a Rookie Mommy maneuver and did not bring the diaper bag.  Tater rarely needs changing when we’re out and about and this was supposed to be a quick trip so I thought I could swing it.  Yet another reason I’m not in the running for Mother of the Year. 

We got back in the car and luckily The Tot didn’t throw a fit.  She played happily in the back on the way home and I, strangely enough, no longer smelled the smell.  I hauled her to the changing table as soon as we got home and there was no pooky to be found.  Huh.  But it was good that we left when we did because she was a Hungry Girl and ready for nap time.  Just goes to show this Mommy that sometimes the things that are the most fun are the things that aren’t planned.  Sometimes the plan just doesn’t work out.  Go with the flow, Mommy!

Post script: This applies to developmental stuff too.  When I find myself comparing notes with other mothers, their offspring is inevitably “ahead” of The Tot but Tater ends up getting to it when she is good and ready and well within the range of normal.  So far I’ve been able to squash that urge to do more than “gently encourage” activities because I just think that it’s better for it to happen “organically”.  Better for her, better for me.  Better for everybody.