Posts Tagged ‘Emma’

Is there a pill for patience?

December 17, 2008

Since we’ve had three snow days this week (and with today’s blizzard, we’ll probably be out the rest of the week), all three kids are home. This isn’t much of an issue with Emma and James, since they find a lot of stuff to occupy themselves with: sledding, reading, painting, etc. However, with Henry, it’s a whole ‘nother ballgame.

Henry is our special needs kid, and as he gets older this becomes more prevalent. He’s falling further and further behind academically, socially, and emotionally, and this is something that we just have to deal with day by day. He is afraid of everything: horses, sledding, Polly Pockets (uh huh), you name it, he’s probably got some sort of sensory issue with it. Plus, he tends to scream whenever he’s frustrated, angry, or confused – which is most of the time. This makes for a pretty stressful time of it.

Dean and I pinch-hit with Henry. For the most part, we usually don’t get stressed with his behavior at the same time (unless he REALLY is on a roll), so if one of us is getting frustrated or burnt out, we can pass him off to the other one, or take the other one aside and remind them that we’ve got to be patient. This happened this morning, in fact.

I don’t know where I’m going with this, exactly. I guess that some days are harder than others. Henry has changed me profoundly in ways that I would never have imagined, and I’m grateful for that. It’s just that I never thought that the process would be so dang hard.

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Blood, blood everywhere

July 31, 2008

So! This morning, my sweet daughter Emma decided to make me toast as a surprise. What was REALLY surprising, though, was that she decided to cut it with a gigantic butcher knife, and cut the bejeebus out of her finger.

Because she wanted to keep it a surprise, she decided not to tell me (I was reading, BAD MOM, and didn’t notice) and bravely tried to stop the bleeding. After soaking through a couple towels, she came out sobbing (and I still hadn’t noticed…good Lord) and then my Super Mommy Nurse persona kicked into fantastic, butt-kicking action.

If you’re a mom, you know about Super Mommy Nurse mode, so I don’t need to explain it to you. If you’re not a mom, here’s a quick blurb: basically, you become some kind of cross between Marcus Welby and George Clooney on ER, with a little bit of Nurse Ratched kicked in for fun. (Just kidding about the Nurse Ratched part. Maybe.)

Anyway, after like an hour of holding bloody towels on a gushing finger, it finally stopped. I assigned her brother to tell her funny stories to keep her relaxed, and of course, he went for the easy laugh: fart jokes. Picture this if you can: two little kids, one with blood all over her, one with a giant parrot toy, sitting together on the floor in the bathroom, laughing hysterically at fart jokes while Mommy talks to the advice nurse on whether she should get stitches or not.

Long story short, she’s fine, all’s fine, and I’m cleaning up blood as we speak. I mean, after I type. I’m not THAT coordinated.