Category Archives: Parenthood

Doing better

March 25, 2013 – 2:16 pm

I’ve been quiet around here. We had a full week of our house being completely torn apart to get new floors and between getting ready for that and trying to get things back to normal AFTER that, blogging has taken a back seat to things like wine & sleep.

But today I have something to share with you guys because I feel like it’s important. I have been having a rough time in the parenting department lately. And not in a “we had one bad day and I feel guilty” kind of way. Quite honestly, it’s been a “we’ve had a bad day every, single day” kind of way and even typing those words out makes me tear up.

I joke on here about Hannah being the spirited child. And it’s true… she is spirited and lovely and one of my three favorite people in the entire world.

She’s also almost two. And with that comes a whirlwind of adjectives.

Strong-willed.

Passionate.

Temperamental.

Intense.

Explosive.

Adoring.

Funny.

Smart.

Exhausting.

Hannah is all of those words… and so many more. And the tricky thing about two is she can be any combination of those words. And one minute that combination can equal sitting down together and reading books. And then I grab the wrong book, or turn the wrong page or I don’t know, breathe, and it’s all over. Before I can blink there is flailing and stiffening limbs and loud screams.

And frustration. Oh the frustration.

And the yelling. From all of us.

I’m not proud. I end each day feeling like I’ve failed Hannah. Why can’t I figure out what she wants? Why don’t I have the patience to calmly ignore her instead of engaging? Why do I yell at my husband as a means of coping?

And at night I can see it all logically. I know it’s a phase. I know it’s stemming from language and communication issues. I know she’s boundary testing and confused about limits and what decisions she gets to make on her own and which decisions are made for her.

I know all of that.

Except in the throws of a tantrum… before my morning coffee…. or after there have already been three that day… or when I’m simply trying to enjoy a dinner with the family in the few precious hours that we have together each evening, I am never able to see that.

I yell and I hate the person that my family has to put up with but I still can’t stop the yelling. I cry because I don’t know how else to deal with a child who knows what she wants but can’t TELL me what she wants. I lose sight of who I am and the mother I want to be. I don’t like who I am in those moments. I need to do better for Hannah and Madison. For Clint and let’s not forget for myself.

It’s so easy to look in the mirror and hate yourself for your inability to cope with all of the stress. I feel jealous of people that seem to have it all together.

The family enjoying their meal at a restaurant while we take turns walking Hannah around outside because she’s crying.

Or the kids at the park who don’t throw themselves on the ground because you put them in the wrong swing.

The happy photos of crafts and outings with smiling children sting when I see that mine always has a paci in her mouth because sometimes that’s the only way we can get through being out in public without a meltdown.

It’s hard.

But I’m not alone and neither are you.

Could I do better? Yes. And I’m constantly challenging myself to dig deeper. To find more patience, speak softer, hug more and yell less.

But I also have to take care of myself and last night I did that by reaching out to my internet friends. I wasn’t looking for an answer to our problem. I knew that no one had one. I was looking for comfort. I needed to hear that someone else was going through this. That I’m not the only mom who has yelled or walked out of a room and slammed a door because you just can’t take it anymore. That other mothers love their child but are also deeply frustrated and trapped by a certain age.

I needed to know that it’s okay to not love every part of this parenting thing and yet still love your children with every fiber of your being.

I wanted someone to tell me that all of it is okay and real and ALL of us feel like this to some extent.

And that got me thinking. About that mother who is complaining about her child on Twitter or Facebook? Perhaps she’s sharing a message about the non stop whining or the frustration with her day? Perhaps she’s making a comment at 10 a.m. about needing a stiff drink.

Go easy on her. Maybe that’s not really what her message is about at all. She’s probably lonely and isolated. She’s probably looking in the mirror feeling like a terrible mom because she lost her temper too much that day. What she needs is a hug. She needs to know we’ve all been there. She needs an ear to listen. She needs someone to say “me too, but I’m constantly trying to do better.”

Because she is too. That’s exactly what she’s trying to do by reaching out. She’s admitting to the world that it was a bad day and she needs comfort because she wants to do better.

I’ve been there and while it’s a very lonely place, please know you are never alone.

I’m there too. And I always bring wine.

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2042

November 16, 2012 – 2:55 pm

Yesterday Clint and I met up to sign our name on eleventy billion papers. We refinanced our house because we bought 5 years ago when interest rates were really high and guess what? Now they are really low. On most of the pages, I didn’t bother to read anything. I listened to what the notory said was on there, blindly trusted him and signed away.

Except on one page I happened to notice the year 2042. Thirty years from now.

I didn’t give much thought to the arbitrary day 30 years in the future the first time we bought our house. It was a different time. We weren’t even engaged yet so my mind never wandered ahead 30 years.

Except now we have two kids and for the rest of the day I couldn’t help but think about the year 2042. The girls will be about the ages Clint and I are now. What will they be like?

Will they be writers like me? Will they be hands on like their dad?

Will they want to travel the world advocating for AIDS orphans like their Aunt Sam?

Will they aspire to move to LA and be a movie producer like their Aunt Alex?

Will they love motorcycles like their Uncles? (Dear God, please no?)

Will they have the kind and loving heart of their Aunt Amanda?

I wonder if I’ll be sitting on the floor in that very same play room we sit in every night with my grandchildren. Will they even be married by that point? Will they want to have a family young like I did or will they still be sowing some last few wild oats and travelling the world?

Their stories are not yet written. Clint and I have the privilege of front row seats for watching their tale unfold. I’m constantly amazed and humbled that the these two beautiful, spunky girls were entrusted to us. And I’m so afraid of messing up and failing them that sometimes I lose sight of the beauty in raising them. It can be messy and hard but it is so full of love and joy.

And yesterday it really hit home what a blessing it is to be able to watch them grow up. They learn and change every minute. Their personalities blossom in front of our eyes.

I don’t know what 2042 will look like, but the view from here is just lovely.

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NaBloPoMo Parenthood

Pictures and Wine

November 10, 2012 – 9:56 pm

We had our family pictures today. All I can say is there is not enough wine in the world to help me cope with the fit Hannah threw before, during and after them.

Oh well, at least their outfits were cute.

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DDH Hannah Madison NaBloPoMo Parenthood

And so we wait

November 7, 2012 – 1:27 pm

Okay, so here’s the deal on Madison.

We actually didn’t find much out on Monday. Her hips have had some improvement. They could have gotten into more detail and explained the get into acetabular angles but it all sort of seems like French to me and at the end of the day, they aren’t what they want it to be.

His recommendation, based on the fact that she has full mobility and is functioning just fine is to wait one more year and if it hasn’t improved, he would like to perform an osteotomy on both hips. Possibly in two different surgeries six months apart.

Basically, the surgery would reshape the bone. Depending on what is needed it could either be a pelvic osteotomy (reshaping of the pelvic side of the socket) or femoral osteotomy (reshaping of the thigh bone).

Pretty intense right?

I’d be lying to you if I told you we felt comfort in the fact that we are going to wait a year. As many of you have pointed out, sometimes the waiting is the hardest part. But I can let you in on our thought processes and why I can tell you with a high percentage of certainty that we will more than likely decline the surgery if her hips have not improved on their own.

I think the biggest takeaway for us is there are so many unknowns with surgery. I know that any type of surgery can be traumatic on a child and parent and I certainly don’t want to make light of that, but this not like having adenoids removed or having tubes put in the ears. Those are all fairly common procedures with very distinct outcomes of curing a problem.

This surgery involves cutting her bones, putting them back together, body casts, loss of muscle control, relearning how to walk, and a host of other things.

And guess what? There are no guarantees it will “fix” whatever is wrong with her hips. There is no way of knowing if they’ll do this procedure and then want to do another one or another one. Unfortunately, in the world of hip dysplasia it seems like there is a trend of surgery after surgery after surgery.

And as a parent, I just can’t accept that as my only choice in treating my daughter.

It is very hard to have this type of discussion with a surgeon because he obviously wants to “fix” what he sees in the scans. And I do not doubt for one minute that if she does ultimately need any further surgeries that she is in extremely capable hands.

But, the fact remains Madison could go on to lead a 100% normal life with no issues without ever having surgery. She could also have the surgery and need more surgeries. She could have the surgery and it could “fix” her hips on X-ray. But at what cost? There have got to be long term effects of having bones in your hip and pelvis CUT and rebuilt with screws at four years old. There isn’t a whole lot of information on what that could cause down the line.

Am I willing to put her through all of that to prevent the possibility of issues in her future?

As of right now, the answer is no.
The more I think about it the more it seems like we are being told surgery is the answer and the risks are all being brushed aside as natural risks with any surgery. For a kid that runs around and has no pain and no developmental delays, I am going to need a pretty black and white case made to me to put her through TWO separate surgeries six months apart.

Do we essentially forfeit a year of her life when she’s young s to potentially delay arthritis or hip replacements that may still be necessary down the line?

We have a lot of time to think about all of it but Clint and I agree with the thought that unless he can tell me she’s in pain now or will without a doubt suffer in her young life without these surgeries, we will probably turn them down.

We’ve opted to participate in their research studies for genetics and hip dysplasia and I will be more than happy to have her be one of the patients who decided to give it a go without any more surgeries. If that means they want to scan her every 6 months for the duration of her young life to study that- so be it but that’s how we feel about it.

This could all change a year from now, but I’ve never felt more at peace with our decision our the future for Madison’s hip issues.

And if you are wondering, our little Hannah got checked out as well. Her hips are still not “normal” either but they are a lot less severe than her older sister’s (and always have been for that matter. Madison was born with a full dislocation in both hips, while Hannah’s were dysplastic, they were always in the socket. At this point, the definition of normal has ceased to hold any real meaning so I will just say that other than scans every year, I can say with full certainty that Hannah will never be treated again for hip dysplasia.

Thank you for all of your wonderful thoughts and prayers. We felt them and appreciate everyone’s support.