Lights Out

I ran out of work at 4:15 yesterday to pick up LP and bring her to the doctor. Her conjunctivitis did not appear to be clearing up and well, after two days, I kind of missed the doctor's office. By 5:45 we were in Walgreens waiting for her eye drop prescription to be filled. It is unfathomable to me that a 3ML bottle of eye drops costs $50 with my insurance. So far during the month of January we have spent $125 on doctor visits and $90 on prescriptions.

And yet, the hectic part of my day was only beginning. At 6 pm.

As I was trying to check our answering machine messages as I drove to pick up LP, I kept getting this weird message, "We're sorry, your call can not be completed at this time. Please try again later." Thinking maybe my cell phone sucked, I called my parents and had no problem getting through. Hmm...We do have phone service through our cable company so my suspicions were raised about a potential power outage.

Regardless, as stated in my opening paragraph I had other things to worry about.

After finishing up at the pharmacy I was pleased to note that there were lights along the main road. Then I turned into my neighborhood. PITCH FREAKING BLACK. And when I say black - I mean really dark. No lights for about a 4 block radius. It is now about 6:15. I have no diaper bag, no idea where flashlights are in my house, and a little munchkin with hunger pains and puffy red eyes in need of eye drops. Oh, and the Hoos is at an event for work and NOT ANSWERING HIS CELL PHONE. Not like he could have done much, he drove to the event with a bunch of other people and there isn't much assistance he could provide from Hartford, but still, I wanted someone to commiserate with me.

Holding out hope that the power will come back on soon, LP and I drive to that kid mecca, McDonalds, instead of working our way into the house. I would like to try to operate in the dark as little as possible. We kill an hour in McDonalds with other blackout refugees and attempt to call our local family, none of which answer their cell or home phones. Actually, my sister-in-law is the only one that answers her phone, but she is at work so she can't really offer any assistance.

We return to our electricity-free home. I am thrilled to remember that I put a battery operated "tap light" inside the house by the back door when we moved in to offer light in the event we get home late and don't leave any lights on. I tap it and both LP and I giggle with excitement when it pops on. I then attempt to remove it from the wall. It falls and the batteries scatter all over the back steps. Crap.

Toddler and I manage to make our way into the house, locate candles and light them. We then try to use a candle to recover the batteries for the tap light so we can have something a little less dangerous to light our way. (For the next five minutes LP periodically yells out "batt'ries" and "Amen" - though not really in conjunction with one another). As yet another aside, it is REALLY REALLY HARD to change a poopy diaper in the dark. I did it, but it took a while, especially since LP insisted on holding the tap light during the process, and dropping it, causing the batt'ries to fall out again.

About a half hour later we try my in-laws again and they have returned home from their outing. Hallelujah! LP and I pack stuff up in the dark and head out for the 20 minute drive to their home. On our way there my phone rings, both the Hoos and my brother-in-law call me back to see why I am stalking them via cell phone. Growl.

After slipping LP into the bath at my in-laws (and noticing that she has diaper rash from walking around with a dirty diaper for who-knows how long), I call home and our phone actually rings. Power has been restored. It is 8:45. By 9:15 we are home, LP is sleeping and I am trying to think of a good reason not to want to injure the Hoos. Of course, it doesn't take long to remember that I need him: LP can't go to school today because of the conjunctivitis so I need him to stay home with her in the morning while I get some work done. Lucky man.

Minimum Qualifications

After some recent interactions with unpleasant people, I have decided that there needs to be some criteria that people need to meet, consistently, in order to be considered adults:

1. Look people in the eye when having a conversation.
2. Accept responsibility when you are at fault, and even occasionally when you aren't.
3. Treat everyone with respect even if they don't deserve it.
   
4. Acknowledge other contributors in your life (personal and professional).
5. Channel your excess energy into positive activities. (Note "consistently" is not the same as "always")
   
6. Take it if you dish it. I am all about the quick comeback, but if you can't accept someone returning a smart retort, keep your trap shut.
7. Learn to make at least one meal. Even mac and cheese from a box. I once had a roommate that would measure the amount of water for boiling the mac according to the instructions on the box. Even so, at least after 10 minutes she had a meal.
8. Leave it on your plate, even if you don't want it - literally and figuratively. LP is the queen of throwing food that she doesn't want on the floor or at me. Even so, with some of the hot potato passing going on in my office, it is a wonder I don't come home looking like a high school food fight survivor on a daily basis.
   
9. Show some love. A little patience and understand can go a long way sometimes.
   
10. Keep it in your pants. Don't show too much love. Everyone doesn't need to see your goods. Yes, sometimes you need to vent, and as an exception world-wide sharing may be cathartic. But, really, having a few special friends is cool; showing your goods to the entire school, not only whorish, but sad.

This is only the beginning. Whatcha got to add, blog readers?

Serves Me Right

SO I complained about a weekend when I shouldn't have. Someone is getting back at me.

LP woke up around 8 this morning and when I went into her room she said "eye!" and was rubbing her eyes. Which were a bit gunky. I knew sweet little curly haired MCH from LP's class was at the doctor on Sunday for conjunctivitis so I figured I might as well join the club. Walk-in hours are 9-10:30 so I quickly packed my little raggamuffin up and we headed over to get the inevitable out of the way.

Pulling into the parking lot I immediately recognized a car from yet another one of LP's classmates, LS, the smallest, cutest class toughie I ever saw. Good lord! I like the kids and the moms, but I don't really want to be running into them so frequently at the doc's office.

Turns out LP's eyes aren't so bad. But her left ear is ugly. I guess now is as good a time as any to try out alternatives to penicillin...

Weakend

I thought the weekends were supposed to be LESS manic than the rest of the week. For some reason it seems as though Saturday and Sunday are chock full - even when they are chock full of nothing. Not this weekend. Here are some highlights:

Saturday
LP woke up with a rash on her entire trunk. Fortunately, I was able to get a 10:30 appointment at the pediatrician. (Has anyone else noticed that weekend doctor's appointments seem to take about 4 times as long as a weekday visit? Not that we have the doctor's attention for longer, but we just spend more time in the office.) Turns out, despite the fact that LP took her last dose of antibiotic Friday am and this rash first showed up on Friday evening, the cause was determined to be the amoxicillin. Yay! A potential allergy to penicillin. Better safe than sorry and she most likely won't ever get a penicillin-derived antibiotic again, but still a pain in the arse to deal with for the rest of her life. Woo-hoo.

Oh, and LP peed on me when getting ready for her bath. Despite the fact that we were standing next to the open potty.

Sunday
A much more enjoyable day. I spent mid-day with five fabulous ladies: some of the other moms from LP's day care class. We are all working moms, with at least one kid and three of us are pregnant. It was nice to talk to grown ups, with a wide range of backgrounds and experience, but with some (actually more than some) common ground. We lingered over lunch and still probably had a lot more we could have chatted about when we figured it was time to rescue our husbands.

The evening was spent celebrating my nephew O's 9th birthday. LP is absolutely adorable when she is with her cousins, a real ham that enjoys the attention she gets from being the baby.

The weekend ended with LP peeing on the potty TWICE. Once before her bath and once after. Monday I expect to get peed on again.

Looking Ahead
Tomorrow night I start my new class. It doesn't involve math so there should be considerably less complaining and solicitations for assistance with my homework. Unless anyone wants to volunteer to go to class and pretend to be me...

Taken Advantage Of

This morning I got up with LP around 7:30. This is early for her, but when she starts yelling out random body parts ("Eye! Ehbow!") you know she is awake for good.

By the time I got around to taking off her wet diaper the Hoos was downstairs with us finishing getting ready for work. LP decided she had to pee and was walking around bottomless, sitting on the potty for 2 or 3 minutes at a time before jumping off and running on to the next thing. The Hoos was getting frustrated and kept attempting to put her diaper on. She would scream and squirm.

I told him to let her go and I would deal with it (I am trying to be supportive of the potty training thing). The Hoos was frustrated with me and as he left he called out "Make sure she doesn't wear you out - you are pregnant! And don't let her take advantage of you."

Fast forward 10 minutes and 4 or 5 quick sits on the potty. Picture LP eating a bialy, pretending to do her business. Suddenly she gets up, runs into the hallway...and pees on the floor.

Maybe in my next life I will know better.

Lesson 1: There Are No Comparisons

Almost a year ago I wrote about the temptation to compare LP's development to that of her peers. I think I have been successful in just being happy with her growing and learning at her own rate. In my mind she continues to be the "best and brightest," the same thing every other parent on the planet thinks about their kid.

I have discovered a new comparison pitfall: Comparing me to myself. I know, it sounds dumb, right? Like, "what the hell does she mean" dumb. I keep comparing my demeanor, my physique, my growth, my everything to me two years ago.

To give you some perspective, two years ago I was almost exactly at the same point in my pregnancy with LP. Bun's due date is a week later than LP's due date. Some examples of my struggle:

• Last time around: Eagerly awaiting "looking pregnant" so that people would know and understand my inner glow. This time: Eagerly awaiting looking pregnant so that I would stop looking pudgy and look like I was putting on weight for a reason.
• Last time: Excited about wearing maternity clothes like a 'real pregnant person'. This time: Dreading putting on maternity clothes and admitting that, yup, I had gained enough weight and my shape had changed enough to warrant it.
• Last time: Going to bed early so that I could keep my strength up and have a healthy and relaxing pregnancy. This time: Staying up later so that I can straighten up a house that looks like it was ransacked by a bunch of marauding hoodlums.
  
• Last time: Looking at the scale with acceptance because if I was growing, the baby was growing. This time: Looking at the scale in horror, thinking "Did I gain this much weight 20 weeks in last time?" and knowing that I really don't want to gain more weight than the first time around.
  
• Last time: Thinking my due date was THE DAY our kid would arrive. This time: Feeling confident that this baby will be three days 'late', exactly like LP.

All of these lead up to an idea for a post for the future: How the heck can I train my self not to compare kids if I can't help but compare pregnancies?

We Have a Winner - Kinda, Sorta

When I wrote the MomAgenda giveaway post I yelled out to the Hoos "The number is FIVE". He looked really confused, but nevertheless it was the official winning number. Unfortunately, no one exactly guessed it. Robyn was closest. Robyn - please email me your address (my email address is linked to directly from my profile) and I will drop it in the mail.

A Little Less Conversation, a Little More Action

I am tired of listening to myself whine about being lazy, having few local girlfriends, and only running errands in my free time. Yesterday I decided it was time for action!

I emailed a bunch of the other moms from LP's day care class asking them to get together for a moms-only lunch this weekend. Despite the last minute invitation I was thrilled to get an affirmative response from everyone! When does this ever happen?

I remember when LP was only a few months old one of the women from the mom's group at Stamford Hospital (where I gave birth) tried to stage a get together for a weekend day. When I replied, "Are kids invited?" she said something to the effect of, "Of course! I miss my baby so horribly when I am at work during the week that I want to spend every waking minute with him on the weekends."

At the time I felt chastised and a bit like a bad mommy. Of course I wanted to be with my daughter. I love her more than life itself. But now I feel confident enough in the fact that I am an awesome mom to say that sometimes a few hours without her makes everyone a bit more sane.

Besides, lunch is scheduled during her nap time...

Early Valentine's Day Give-Away

Today I received another one of my WMAG Holiday give-away prizes: a fuchsia 2007-2008 MomAgenda. Fortunately for you all, I already have a MomAgenda. I use it frequently, more to track my schedule than LP's and the accompanying address book is my most up-to-date resource of addresses and phone numbers.

I want to share the love. I am not much good at coming up with contest and the like, so instead of making this about judging (who has the energy anymore, really?), I am going to make it easy. I will pick a number between 1 and 5. Leave a comment with your number guess. The first person to pick the right number, wins. Just make sure I can contact you somehow to get your address.

Thanks for reading!

The Special Club

This morning when the Hoos called me after dropping LP off at day care, one of the first things he said to me was, "Do you ever think of us as being in a special club? You know, a parents-only club where only members can truly understand how much you can love a little person?"

This is not a knock on non-parents. It is really just a note about how fortunate we feel to be LP's parents. I couldn't even have imagined the depth of my feeling toward little LP before she arrived. And, now that we are expecting Bun, I am already anticipating how that feeling of fullness will grow. And I am sure I am even under-estimating that.