The joys of taking Samilicous to the doctor

There are certain similiarities to my children. As much as I think they are so different in some ways, they are mirror images in others. Like baths - Jessie used to scream so much that she gave herself hives, and Sam's the grubbiest kid I've ever met because he'll literally cry so hard, he pukes when I give him a bath. And the doctor - oh, the doctors... Jess had ear infections all the time when she was little. And she HATED going to the doctor's. And Sam is following right along in step behind her. He refused to get on the scale, so I had to get on the scale first holding him and then drop him on the floor and get on without him to get an accurate weight. Then the time came to take his temp - and he clamped his little arm down and wasn't going to let the nurse stick that thing into his armpit. I had to pry it up (and he's scary strong for a two year old) and the poor nurse shoved it in. Meanwhile, he's got a fever, and is screaming - so he's all sweaty (and grubby - see the beginning of the paragraph). Finally, we finish the preliminaries, and I latch him on (one of those instances when I'm actually glad he's still nursing because it's an instant calm down for him). The doctor came in, he screamed thru the entire exam - fighting and struggling to get away. When it was finally over (he's got a wicked cough/cold, but nothing else, thank goodness), he stood up and said emphatically "Wet's get outta dis pwace!"

For what it's worth

Jessica Mary danced off to school this morning, happy as could be.

In other news, my vacuum has broken. I'm heart sore and in mourning. I loved that appliance, second only to the coffee pot.

Rough morning

There's very little that's harder for me to deal with than my child's unhappiness. That's not completely true, there's lots that would be harder - but this morning, I had to ship my little girl out the door kicking and screaming to go to school and know that I will spend the rest of the day feeling guilty and worried about her. Jess seems to be thriving at school, has friends, children who come to greet her when we walk into the school yard, her teacher raves about her - so I know that she's not going there and being victimized by horrible six year old bullies, I know that she's not struggling academically and not measuring up. I know all of these things in my head, but in my heart, I'm scared that I'm wrong. Scared that there's something about school - something that I can't possibly know because I'M NOT THERE, and she's dealing with it (whatever this phantom problem is) all by herself, and that's why she's crying. That's why she left this morning with tears on her cheeks and misery in her eyes.

Although it probably had more to do with the fact that I got her ready about ten minutes before Marc was ready, so she had time to get involved in a game with her little brother, and just didn't want to leave it. But what if that wasn't the case? What if it's the horrible six year old bully? What if, what if, what if?

It's mornings like this when I really regret not homeschooling.

Happy, happy, happy, happy

(on a side note, I've used this title before - which I think is kind of a nice sign of how I feel about my life :-)

I'm all sunshine and lollipops today - Samilicious is still soundly sleeping, and Miss Jess danced off to school with a smile on her face. We had a busy weekend, Jess and I both got hair cuts, and I'm still loving mine, and loving Jessie's as well. Marc and I have been at each other's throats for most of the weekend, which is blessedly rare, but have patched things up rather well, I think. We fought about the way the house looked when I came home on Saturday (why, oh why would they destroy my house? Why?) and his work out schedule (which will forever be a source of conflict for us). For me, marriage is all about choice. When it's hard. And sometimes it is. You (or at least I) have to consciously CHOOSE to not stay mad. To remember why you love him, to remember that his overall goal is good, and while he might screw up royally in the execution of it, his desire is not to make you miserable. And the nice thing about Marc is that while he might not ever be able to be the first one to make that overture to end a fight (his theory is that if you ignore it, maybe it'll go away), he's always receptive (and relieved) when I do it.

Moving right along... today - today is MY DAY. This is the day I've been clinging to, all last week, when I was drowning in children. I babysit during the day, but that's different, I love my babies (toddlers), it's when I've got four school age girls running around that I want to rip my hair out. And last week, I had more than my fill of whining and crying and yelling and 'it's my turn on the computer' and 'she won't share with me' and just the general nastiness that three sisters and one Glennys can get up to when they're stuck together for too long. But today - ah, today... I'm going to relax, unwind, chill out, watch all kinds of television, read a lot - Sam took unbelievably crappy naps on both Saturday and Sunday, which is why he's still asleep, and I'm so excited about just being me today.

Just a complaining post

I went out yesterday with my mother and my daughter and my favorite cousin - and had a LOVELY day. Really - got my hair cut, got a couple of new shirts, bought Jess a webkinz, got Jessie's hair cut (she looks gorgeous), then Marc met me down at my mother's house, she made a big dinner for everyone, it was delightful - right up until I came home. To find... just this huge, disgusting mess. And I'm mad and upset and all those negative things, thinking hostile thoughts towards husbands and step children, and angered that I must pay for any fun time out of the house by having to spend the entire next day cleaning up after people too lazy and apathetic to make any effort to do it themselves.

Just depressing.

Anyway - so I'm cleaning, and cleaning, and cleaning today. Picking up Barbie shoes and clothes, throwing away crayons (I have adopted the "toss it out if it's on the floor" theory in regards to art supplies) and folding things. I crawled into Sam's bed last night with Jess in the middle of the night (Sam having spent the night in my bed) and it was filled with dirt and crumbs and CRAP that I had to clean off the bed before I could even put my poor tired girl in there (she wet the bed - my fault, I was too cold to get up and take her to the potty in the middle of the night). I'm filled with hostility and resentment and not feeling particularly warm and fuzzy.

But my hair looks FABULOUS.

oh so very tired

Not too much going on these days... it's February vacation here, so I've been drowning in children. Today I've got Lilli, Sarah, Jessie and Sam and for the moment, they are all playing together quietly in Jessica's bedroom. I don't expect this to last. But actually, when it's just the four of them, it's relatively easy - they break up into two groups (usually Lilli/Jess and Sarah/Sam).

We're still working on the diabetes thing. I know that it's so much better than it could be - it could have been something awful, diabetes is chronic, but controllable. But still, I was thinking last night of just how crappy it really is. Marc has been dealing with it for a solid week now, and it struck me of how sad and unfair it is that for the rest of his life, he'll have to make himself bleed every morning and eat no more at a single meal than what I would consider a good meal for my six year old daughter. He's fighting off a cold as well, which just makes it all seem that much more crappy.

But all in all, things really are going well. Other than the diabetes and the head colds that Sam and Marc have, everyone is healthy and happy. Well, Jess seems to be spending a lot of her time miserable and mad, but I think she's just in touch with her inner drama queen. Intellectually, I know that she's not crying all the time, but sometimes it feels that way. I'm chipper as can be. Really. Although if Sarah keeps yelling I might lose my mind today.

Happy 7th Anniversary

http://cohenfamily-melissa.blogspot.com/2008/02/happy-valentines-day.html

Here's a link to last year's anniversary post. It's all still true - he's still my best friend and I still can't quite believe I got as lucky as I did.

When I was younger, the qualities that I always said I wanted to find in a guy was that he be smart and nice. Good looking, sure, tall, yep, absolutely - but what really turned me on was intelligence and kindness. Marc is literally the smartest and nicest man I've ever met.

Happy Anniversary, honey - I still love you the best!