Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Proud Mama!

I suppose I should start by saying that I'm a bit ashamed to have been so weak in this area to begin with, but the pride wins out, so I just don't care...

Rachel was 2 months old before we gave her a pacifier. We didn't want to, she didn't seem to need it, and we weren't gonna do it. Ever. Right....

She was such a LOUD sleeper as a baby, in the cradle next to our bed. She just made little noises in her sleep all the time and as new parents, of course, we jumped up for every single one of them. I clearly remember that October night, rummaging around in the dark, digging through the closet in the nursery, just positive there had to be a binky in there somewhere. Finally, I found one, it was clearly Heaven sent. She took it right away and we slept. All of us. Finally!

Fast forward a few years to the night before Easter about 5 months before she turned 3. I was 5 months pregnant and determined to break her of the binky before the new baby arrived. We had talked about how giving all of your binkies to the Easter Bunny meant he'd leave extra treats, and deliver the binkies to other babies' Easter baskets. This was all going well as she dropped each excitedly into the empty Easter basket before bed... until she got to the last one. She stopped. She looked up at me. Her eyes filled with tears. "But Mommy, this means I won't have any binkies!" Yes, dear, that's the point!

I looked at hubby, he looked at me. I could see his response in his eyes. "This was your idea, I'm staying out of it." And then I caved. She kept the last binky. But ONLY for bed and the car.

Then baby #2 came along. She wanted NO part of the paci and still we pushed it on her, right from the get-go. She had acid reflux and wasn't comfortable for a second of the first 11 weeks of her life, unless I was holding her upright, while standing, and bouncing. I am not exaggerating when I say I held her for 2 weeks straight from 6-7 weeks old. Anyway... the paci kept her calm, so we gave it to her ALL the time. And of course, with a new baby in the house who required constant attention, we were willing to "overlook" Rachel's increased (outside the bed and the car) use of the binky. A lot.

We finally weaned her back to "only" her two permitted spots. She turned 3 with the binky. And then 4. And then I'd had enough. MORE than enough. However, even the mere mention of taking it away elicited the most pained, tortured, someone-just-shot-my-best-friend sort of response. I wanted it gone, at any price. But hubby, who takes her and her binky-wielding little sister back and forth to school each day (45+ minutes each way) was not prepared to play along.

And then she lost it. Literally.

Last Thursday night, as I was tucking her in and she was saying goodnight through the binky (I hate that!) I mentioned again that soon, we'd need to get rid of it. She'll be 5 in August for cryin' out loud! Again, I got "the" response. Of course.

2am, she shuffles in to our room. "Daddy, I can't find my bee-bee." Daddy rolls out of bed, trudges into her room to help her find it, it's usually buried under covers or on the floor between the bed and the wall. Only this time, it wasn't. He told her just to go to sleep, she'd live.

Until 3am, when she shuffles back in to the room. "Daddy, I still can't find my bee-bee."

"Go to bed, Rachel, you'll find it in the morning."

Tears. Little feet shuffling back to her bed, whimpering softly. My heart breaking, yet determined to stay strong. The child will not die if she has to make it through the rest of the night without a piece of plastic in her mouth.

Until 5am, when she shuffles to my side of the bed. I send her away. It hurt me, but I did it.

45 minutes later, she finds me downstairs making my coffee. "Mommy...."

I trudge upstairs to help her find the binky. I can't find it. Did she swallow the thing?? It is no where to be found, literally.

I think quickly and decide to use the opportunity, as any self-serving yet brilliant mother would.

"Rachel, do you know what this means?!?! You did it! You went a night without your binky! You're a big girl now!!!"

"I am?" comes the soft response, full of wonder, amazement, and verging on tears.

"Yes, you did!!" ((((Big hugs!!))))

She's not sure, but that's it, no turning back now. She got upset getting in the car to go to school, but I made sure to give hubby the "if you slip her the binky that I know you have hidden in your pocket, you will be sleeping on the couch for a week" look. And guess what? She did it! Again! All the way to school, no binky. On the ride home, she didn't even ask for it. And she hasn't asked for it since. Over four years of trying to get that thing away from her, and all it took was for it to literally disappear in the middle of the night. Why did I not think of that myself?!?!?

Honestly, I don't have a clue where it went. I've pulled her room apart, I can't find the silly thing. Maybe she's hidden it and pulls it out after I go to sleep, who knows. All I know is that I can see her smile and hear her voice, and it's the most beautiful thing ever.

One kid down, one to go....

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

So many things to write about but instead....

So many things I'd like to write about here, if only there was more time in a day. If I had more free time, you'd have posts on:

My family's recent trip to New York, to celebrate my grandmother's 90th birthday. I'd tell you all about how it was the first time in almost 20 years that she had both her kids and all 4 of her grandkids (including one who lives in Austria!) in the same place at the same time, with the new addition of 2 great grandkids.

The lost and then found butterfly backpack that my 4-year-old left in the Syracuse airport, and the very nice police officer who tracked down my cell phone number and returned it to me. Of course, he scolded me for not letting her have snacks in it, but both the butterfly backpack and the cherished Jasmine doll made it back to us the very same night.

The two ladybugs that I found on the slide at my grandmother's house, which reminded me that even though my grandpa's been gone almost 7 years, he's always still here with us.

The two more times that a gas station attendant kept 2 cents of my change without blinking an eye, and the 2 cents I decided to leave on the counter another day, since there's clearly a penny shortage at my local gas station's convenience store.

My frustration with the healthcare system in this country, and the rates that doctors charge vs. the rates the companies pay vs. the co-pay for which I'm responsible.

The new summer swim camp that we just signed my girls up for.

So many more things....

But instead, since my time is limited, I choose to focus it on the following:

Spending extra time hugging and loving on my girls, my husband and my family, all the while saying prayers for peace and healing for the family of Sasha, a co-worker's 18-month-old neighbor who passed away on Friday, following an accident in the family pool last month.

Being thankful that my new shoes are pinching my toes because at least it means I can walk, and saying prayers for healing for my brother-in-law Steven and sister-in-law Ana, who were badly burned on their legs on Friday by a giant pot of boiling water (150 gallons) which tipped over in an freak accident. Steven is walking with crutches, Ana remains in the trauma center.

Checking the smoke detector batteries in my house, after my long-time friend Eric and his wife lost their entire home to a fire this weekend, and saying prayers of thanks that they both (along with the dog) made it out in time, and that their son was not home when it happened.

Making a baby blanket for my friend Megan, who is due in early June, and praying that her husband gets medical answers soon. They've ruled out lung cancer, tuberculosis and a few other things, but still can't tell him why he's been sick for 2 months or what he should do to start feeling better.

Thinking of new ways I can turn my spare change into something greater, something more than pennies, since I now know that 2 cents at a time won't change my life, but might mean something to somebody else.

What have you been doing with your free time?