A Dose of Perspective

Perspective is something that you’d think mothers would have a lot of. After all, we have the most important job in the world – raising the next generation. But somehow, in all of the minutia and emotion, perspective is the only thing I seem to loose more than my keys.

This week, Jennifer Bunich passed away unexpectedly. I’d only recently met Jen. She was one of the two smart moms behind the blog Charlotte Smarty Pants. Jen was a lot like me, a lot like all of us. She was a young, working mom with a young daughter and adoring husband. She had a job that she loved and a new passion in the blog that she started. I was instantly taken with the blog and we crafted a partnership that would bring them into Charlotte Baby & Child through columns and newsletter articles. Just a week or so ago, we were working on her ad and head shots. And now, she’s gone.

I find myself what wondering what would be happening right now if that were me and not her. Would I have felt like I really lived my last few weeks? Would I have enjoyed the last few stories I read to my kids. Would I have relished the tuck-in back rubs?

I fear that the answer is no. Between juggling the kids, the magazine fast approaching deadline, a husband out of the country, one bout of stomach virus, a recent diagnosis of asthma and an eighteen month old that’s discovered a fascination with poop-finger-painting, this was one week of my life that I wouldn’t have cared to repeat -- unless you told me it would have been my last. Then, I would have savored every last time I held my daughter while she vomited. I would have relished each moment of holding the nebulizer mask over my sleeping son’s face at 2am. I would have appreciated every kind word from and advertiser and looked at every challenge as an opportunity to grow.

I know that Jen leaves a lot of people behind in the world that loved her and will miss her dearly. And she leaves behind her readers who will miss her witty and to-the-point writing style. I will mourn that I only got to glimpse the tip of the iceberg of this dynamic woman. And I’ll be forever grateful to her for giving me this incredibly powerful does of perspective. One that I really, desperately needed.

Mr. B can't breathe and I'm the one who's mad!

Last night at 6:40 pm we had a sick visit with our pediatrician. Baby B had been up since 3:45am and wasn't even able to nap. He coughed constantly in his sleep and I was beginning to hear some wheezing again. By early afternoon he alternated between screaming and flailing in my arms and collapsing on my chest lethargically. Rarely the alarmist, I decided it was time to call the doctor.

My kiddos are normally in bed at seven pm, so I dressed them in their jammies and robes and we headed out. I don't know if any of you guys have tried to get a pulseox reading on a seventeen month old before, but it was not pretty. The nurse and doctor were both good natured about it, but I was really at my wits end. By the time we decided to give him a course of nebulizer breathing treatments (his third in his short life and the second this month), I was nearly in tears. On the drive home, I tried to figure out why.

I don't know what it was about hearing the diagnosis of asthma. He has eczema, has had three of these episodes, and has a family history on my husband's side. You'd think I would have expected it. But I didn't. I know that its still very possible that he outgrows it, but the idea that my precious little boy has any sort of chronic condition makes me sad and angry. I know that asthma is very manageable, and I'm lucky compared to millions of other parents. Top my anger off with a good measure of guilt, because I know that there are parents out there coping with feeding tubes, transfusions and worse. I know that I'm incredibly lucky to have children as healthy as they are. But I am still so upset.

Part of me is angry because he's been so uncomfortable his short little time on earth. He was plagued by reflux as an infant and spent the first nine months of his life on Prevacid - which finally got him comfortable enough to stop screaming. And now this. I don't even know if I really know what his little personality is like. He's so upset all the time, and largely because something always wrong.

If I'm mad, I can only imagine how mad he has been. I have seen that frustrated, angry look on his face so many times. Now I wonder if he's been trying to tell me that he can't breathe or that his chest hurts. The thought of how that must feel for him makes me cry. I hope we're able to get him well enough that I can get to know my little boy and he can get to know me.

We started nebulizer treatments of Xopenex last night. He gets those every four to six hours. And then he gets Pulmicort once every twenty four hours. We have a dinosaur mask for his nebulizer that's supposed to look friendly, but he just hates it. He screams in my arms for nearly the whole treatment. I try to hold him still and Mel holds the mask, but he leaves for Asia tomorrow and I'm on my own trying to get him to take the treatment. I may have to snag a neighbor, but it will have to be a pretty good friend to drop by every four hours. We'll see. Everyone tells me that they get used to it and will tolerate it once they understand that its working. But so far, not my little guy.

What to do with Mr. B's Room?

Everyone who knows me, knows that my favorite rooms to decorate are my children's rooms. Charlotte Baby & Child readers have seen Mr. B's nursery in the book (http://www.charlottebabyandchild.com/archives/nurseries/jungleroom.htm), the WG's nursery and her big girl room too. And now, it's time to start thinking about Mr. B's big boy room, which (surprise, surprise) is scheduled to appear in our October 2008 issue. I have three major ideas and am wondering which you guys like best. Leave a comment and let me know! Here are the rough ideas:

A Cabin in the Woods Theme
My first idea is to do a woodsy theme but with a whimsical and cartoony twist, perhaps even a little bit modern. Something, really bright and whimsical. I was thinking that a moose, raccoon, etc standing in a stream or going for a swim could be a cute mural. (My good friend Allison has a nursery with a great outdoorsy cartoon mural.) Skiing animals could be fun. Bears fishing with poles could also be fun. I was thinking something with a fun, cartoony feel would work best with the bedding. Or something bright and solid. It might be fun to have a real tent in the room and paint a campfire on the wall, etc.

I was thinking about this bed

With a rocking moose

Lighting like this...

A rug like this one

And for added effect, there's a company that makes amazing firefly like lighting....We could use that for a "nightlight" effect.We can install them in fake trees or perhaps even in the wall. Check them out here. http://www.fireflymagic.com/

And we'd have to have one of these nightlights by his bedside table....

City Boy

In a totally different direction, I also thought a New York City theme might be a lot of fun. I thought that some sort of skyline mural could be fun. Especially if we could make it on MDF and mount lights behind it somehow so that the city lights could be his "nightlight". (ambitious, i know)

We could use a fun taxi pedal car

Street signs on the walls

This lamp

Traffic light clock

Bears with "I love NY" shirts on, Broadway posters, maybe even a manhole cover rug?

Nautical Theme

My first idea was a nautical theme, which my family pooh-poohed as ordinary, but I still kind of like....
We could do something bright and whimsical so it's still very "little boy" like. Maybe big whales swimming in the sea. Funny cartoony animals sailing?

I'd love to do this in one corner...

And I love this snuggling cutter

I love this bedding

These flags are great too!

So, what do you think? Which do you like best? Which gives Mr. B the most longevity? Which is most original? And which do you think he'll love most? Can't wait to hear all your opinions!

How I'm Coping with the Writer's Strike

Okay, so I'm all for the writer's getting more money. And I think the studios should break down and settle it already. Mel is traveling, so I'm on my own in the quiet house most evenings. I write the new issue of the magazine a bit. I have a new trash novel. But my favorite diversions, Fox's House with the scrumptious Hugh Laurie and My Name is Earl have not been new since God was a boy. So, I've decided to branch out.

I'm one of those people that usually Tivos three or four shows for myself and about 42 shows for my children. How horrible would it be if they requested Wow Wow Wubzy and I couldn't deliver! But now, I'm recording a whole mess of shows and trying to get into them. Luckily, I've found a winner.

I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I'm an OC junkie now. Because it's on SoapNet twice a day, I've already caught up on one whole season in a little more than a week. There's Marissa, the earnest albeit slightly melodramatic protagonist. Ryan, the troubled teen from the hood taken in be wealthy benefactors. Seth, the adorable, funny one that I totally would have fallen for in high school. Summer, the endearingly vapid and shallow one. It's just yummy. Campy, indulgent, with all the plot twists you'd expect from a night time high school soap.

I blame Ira Glass for my new found addiction. If you don't know who Ira is, then you're not a terrifically geeky NPR junkie like I am. My love of NPR has been life long (I was the only seven year old I knew who counted Mara Liason and Nina Totenberg among her heroines). On one episode of This American Life, he shared his passion for the OC and how sad he was that is was being canceled. That was it, if it was good enough for Ira, it was good enough for me. All I needed was the impetus of a disastrously long writers strike.

So Hollywood execs listen up. We're not turning to new reality TV. But we are willing to get turned on to new dramas and scripted shows that we haven't made time for in the past. Hurry up, pay the writers more already, before we all decide to take up crochet.

All About Me!

My One New Year’s Resolution

Right now, I’ll bet that you and I are doing the exact same thing – making our New Year’s resolutions. My mommy-friends have been busily sharing them via email over the past few days. Each woman has laudable goals – to be more organized, to go to the gym more often, to find a church home, to go on more dates with their spouses. But this year, my resolution is far more selfish. This year, I am going to pay attention to myself.

At first it may sound strange, but if you think about it, I’ll bet you too find it hard to pay attention to yourself. Almost every mom I know has busily made lunch for her kids, changed diapers, put babies to bed only to look up and realize it’s after three o’clock and she hasn’t eaten all day. There have been whole days where I have forgotten to go to the bathroom. Or worse, rather than paying attention to my building frustration or resentment, I busily move on to the next task and totally loose my cool when something goes wrong.

This year is going to be different. I know because the resolution is already different. Last year, I resolved to be a more attentive mother, to play on the floor with my kids more, to do more activities with them, and to spend time one-on-one with each of them. I resolved to be a more patient and forgiving spouse. And I resolved to become more active and involved in my church. Are you noticing a trend? Although all my resolutions were wonderful ones, they were all organized around other people’s experiences.

This year, I am going to try to care just at much about how my day is going, as I do about my four year old’s time at preschool. I’m going to make sure that I get a good night sleep in the same way that I try to maximize the baby’s sleep. I’m going to play outings that I enjoy in the same way that I plan them for the children. And I’m going to help enable my own good eating and workout routine in the same way that I facilities those healthy habits for my husband.
I am quite certain that I’m still going to be frustrated by how many hours there are in a day. And the limitations on my time may mean that my kids get fewer outings and a few less craft projects this year. But what they will gain, a mom that is happy, healthy and content to live in the present moment, will likely far surpass that one additional experience.

Mr. B's Book Reviews

It's tough to find books that hold the attention of a 13 month old. Now that he can crawl and climb, Mr. B barely stops moving until he's actually snoring. But these books always slow him down and help him settle in for bottle and bedtime. Pick them up for any infant you know. They'll be well-loved baby gifts.

Here are Mr. B's favorite right now:

Little Cricket's Song
Sweet, lilting rhymes tell the story of a little cricket that wants to learn to sing. The pictures are lovely and the end of line rhyme scheme gives the book a sing-song quality, but the highlight of this book is the clicking cricket. Push either the mommy or baby cricket's head for a baby-delighting "clicking" sound.

Ten Little Christmas Lights
Mr. B loves this one so much, we've been reading it since the spring. On ten wonderful pages, animal decorate thier homes with Christmas lights, and a new tiny little light glows on each page. The final page brings all the animals back for an encore with a Christmas tree full of lights. Luckily, the lights go off two or three times, so your baby will get to enjoy pushing the button a couple of times per reading.

Chicka Chicka Boom Boom
Mr. B loves a gimmicky book right now. But this one charms by the force of word and sound alone. Eveytime I say "Chicka Chicka Boom Boom, Will there be enough room?" he giggles with delight.

Mr. B Blows!

I mean that quite literally. Yesterday, I made mac and cheese for lunch. It was still hot, but he was clamoring for it, so I brought the dish to him, let him touch it and said, "hot!" Clearly, this wasn't the first time I'd said that, because he started to blow. At first I thought it was a coincidence, but when I brought it to his lips, he blew on it before he opened up for the bite. While this might not seem amazing to everyone else, this "1+1=2" was pretty exciting for his mom. He did it again and again, and when I smiled and praised him, he clapped for himself, blowing all the while.

Then, later that afternoon, he crawled over to his sisters Crocs on the floor and tried to put them on his feet. Amazing! He used to only chew on them. Now he knows that they go on feet!

We're at the stage where he is growing and changing nearly every day and I'm trying really hard to savor every minute. I'm at my mothering worst during toddlerhood. The kiddos are just so go-go-go. They make a million messes a day and breeze through the house like tiny little Tasmanian Devils.

But at the end of the day, he's lovely and luscious, and when I sing the ABC song he curls up in my arms because he knows its time for bed. He surrenders all that frustration and toddler angst just to be my baby for a little while longer. And then, he lies his head down and goes to sleep, usually, exhausted and without a peep.