Hopping on the ol'Soapbox...

I get why people criticize others' parenting...I've certainly done enough of it in my day. Clearly everyone thinks their way is the right way or they wouldn't be doing it. And parenting is one of those things in which no ones does it exactly the same...so it is easy to pick up on differences and go on the attack. Plus, admit it, it feels good to "know" you're doing it better than someone else. Supernanny and Nanny 911 exist solely for that purpose--so that parents all over America can feel better about themselves and their parenting skills.

Real-life parenting isn't always pretty. I love my kids but I don't always like them. When Cassie is throwing a tantrum and hitting me, when Chase is ignoring me or shrieking about something or asking for another DS game or another Wii game--those are not the rosy Kodak moments I imagined during my six years of infertility hell. My mother felt the same way about me, particularly during my teen years. Parenting is hard. And it can be ugly. Uglier than that is unsolicited parenting advice from virtual strangers. Who appreciates that? WHO NEEDS IT? Parenting is hard enough w/o having your motives second-guessed and questioned! I think it may be one of those things where if you can't say something nice, don't say it at all!

Losing our Marbles

Last night Jamie's client bailed (probably had tickets to the All Star game) and Jamie came home to watch the game. Taking advantage of that...I stole outside on the deck to read a bit w/Shermy. When I came inside, chaos reigned. And Jamie informed me that he thought Cass swallowed a marble. I asked her where the marble was and she opened her mouth, pointed down her throat and said, "AHHHHHH!" Awesome.

I took her upstairs, bathed her, and was putting her to bed when Chase came upstairs. I sent him into the tub. I heard water running, but didn't think anything of it. Then Jamie came upstairs yelling at us. For two or three years I've been complaining about a water spot on the kitchen ceiling and for two or three years he's been ignoring me. Last night, the kitchen ceiling, coincidently (or not) the spot I've been complaining about, started dripping. Guess who isn't ignoring me anymore?

Apparently it was MY fault that Chase overflowed the tub. The kid is 7 1/2 years old and perfectly capable of bathing himself. I was reading to a todder, in said toddler's bedroom. Can I point out that Jamie only knew the kitchen ceiling was dripping b/c he was fixing himself an All Star snack before parking his butt back on the couch cushion it had been attached to ever since Obama threw out the first pitch?(And don't even get me started on what kind of idiot wears a WHITE SOX jacket to Busch Stadium? Seriously? He's dumber than I thought.) So yeah--last night was good times in the Tennyson household. After the kids were in bed, Sherman got a nice long walk so I could cool off.

In case you're wondering, the marble should "pass" in 1-2 weeks. Until then, I'm on poop patrol. I could "speed things up" by giving her mineral oil, but I'm just going to let nature take its course. The last thing I need is to give her diarrhea trying to get the marble out.

Chase starts 2nd grade tomorrow...not a moment too soon! Think I could send Cass along to be the class mascot?

The Nose Update

After 68 minutes of waiting for a 1:45pm appointment (that would be 45 minutes into naptime for those of you unfamiliar w/our family routine), during which a dude delivered a SUPOENA to the freaking doctor we were seeing, this ENT walks in the room, feels around on Cassie's nose and then turns to me and says, "Well, I think it's okay. I mean, you're her mother and you know what her nose should look like, what do you think?" Seriously. Well, in med school, I learned...oh wait, I didn't go to med school. YOU DID! Which is why I've screwed my daughter out of almost 90 minutes of her nap for you tell me what YOU think. What an ASSHAT (thanks for that word, Mikki). I guess it is too soon to tell if her nose is crooked or not b/c of the swelling. Which is what I tried to tell his staff when they scheduled the appointment today. But whatever. Now I know if her nose starts to look crooked as the swelling goes down to call my ENT (who I love) and either make the appt w/him or get a referral from him for a ped ENT. B/c Dr. Maack? Total. Asshat.

So that was my day. 8 days until Chase starts 2nd grade. Not that I'm counting or anything. Nope. Not me! ;P

And like that infamous Brady Bunch episode..."MY NOSE!"

Yes, those are adorable shots of my beautiful little girl smiling and eating a popsicle. And if you look closely you'll notice that her nasal bridge is bruised and swollen and that she's hamming it up and enjoying that popsicle in the ER, which is where we ended up last night after a lovely afternoon at Jim and Mary Ann's lake. I never dreamed that my first parental broken bone would be Cassie's broken nose at age 2. But that appears to be the case. The best part? Chase broke her nose! And if you ask her if her nose is broken, she'll say "Uh huh." And if you ask her WHO broke it, she'll say, "Bubba!"

However, it's not what it sounds like. At the lake, Cassie went and stood by the baby swing and asked to swing. I told her I'd swing her when I finished my dinner. Chase walked over and gave the swing a push, thinking she'd duck when it came at her. She's two. She didn't duck. It nailed her in the back of the head and she face planted on the concrete. Jamie picked her up (he saw the whole thing coming and tried to get to her to save her) and I immediately saw her nose and freaked out. We threw everything in the back of the van and headed home for a decent hospital. There was NO WAY we were going to the podunk hospital in Sullivan that missed his Grandma's stroke a few weeks ago w/my possible head-trauma daughter. Not happening.

So we headed up here to the nearby hospital w/a Children's branch in the ER. Jamie headed home w/Chase and Shermy and I stayed at the hospital w/Cass, who was in great spirits and climbing all over everything, much to the dismay of the staff. I finally set her up on a stool washing her hands in the sink, which she loved! She demanded to "EAT!" the minute the ped walked in the room--I wonder if that's because the ped looked more like a high school student than doctor...anyway, she was very nice, seemed to know her stuff and referred us to a specialist (we go Wednesday) b/c there isn't much they can do for broken noses.

In the meantime, I've nicknamed the kids Rocky Jr (Cass) and Muhammed Ali (Chase). And told Chase that just because I'm not mad and understand it was an accident doesn't mean I can't give him crap for breaking his sister's nose for the rest of our lives...;P