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February 04, 2006


No, they're not talking about you. You can't control kids -- especially boys -- all the time.

Milkula, love the names. Great post. It gave me flashbacks. Parenting through pools of blood is definitely not covered in the manual. Sounds like you have a little baby Calvin on your hands (Calvin and Hobbes). Try to enjoy these years.

For a few moments please let me be your "grammie":
Sweetie- things happen and it's always at the worst of times. You need a pause, take a beather, get a baby sitter, go out with your "dude" to: movie/dinner/watching-the-stars/whatever.

The short person will learn not to climb in sinks with socks on...eventually...

No Anne, you do NOT suck at parenting. You did the best you could in what can only be described as extremely difficult circumstances. Parenting is an inexact science as the best authorities on the subject are willing to admit. You can only do your best and hope that it's the right thing at the time.

When my now 19 year old was 3 1/2 months old, I had laid him down on my bed for just a few moments (so I could brush my teeth), knowing of course, that he wouldn't be able to go anywhere, right? WRONG! He decided that was the moment to practice his newly acquired skill of turning over...which he did...right off the bed, leaving him stuck between the nightstand and my bed. He screamed, I ran to rescue him...it was Mother's day, no less, and I was sure that the L.A. Times would put me on the front page as worst mother of the year...but,in spite of me,he did make it to 19 last week. When my younger son, now 16 was about 4 months old...I was holding him in my arms, and while walking into his bedroom I whacked his head into the doorjam.
Now there are some good parenting skills! Anne...you are not alone...you are a good mom. Only a good mom would write a post like this one. A not so good mom, would not even wonder if she were doing things right.

Aw, shucks, everyone, thanks for sticking up for me. Not sure the Monsterling would agree, as he seemed to keep blaming me the whole next day. His lip jutts out a good way too and is looking kinda gross. Now he's downstairs re-enacting the scene with his Thomas trains. I think Salty is getting it on the chin.

Secure in my still-childless state, I can confidently assert that it's no big deal. We've all done it to ourselves and survived, right? I've got a good scar on my left ear from where I split it open, and a few on my shins as well. It's a life lesson, it is.

(That said, the first time my daughter-to-be hurts herself I'm going to dissolve into a big angsty puddle.)

Awwwww mama, you don't suck, and you did just fine. You took a gamble and this time, it didn't pan out. But that's ok. Amazingly enough, even though we secretly imagine ourselves invulnerable super-mamas, able to be many places at once and solve every drama at once (while baking those allergen-free cupcakes--hee hee!--with the other hand)--we aren't, and we can't. Believe me, I feel your pain, cos I've been there myself--just chalk this one up to experience and move on. The kids are ok (thank G-d), you got a good story out of it, and life trundles merrily on with you (mostly) at the wheel.

I could tell a story, but I won't. Suffice it to say that both of your kids will survive without any lasting trauma, despite all of the ways in which this story could be twisted. Heaven forbid if the La Leche League discovers that you denied milk to your child, even if it was for a brief moment and due to an emergency.

Okay, everybody has to hold their breath for Dreadmouse, whose little mouse is due any day now (or is here already?). Good luck! You'll be an awesome Dad.

And, OE, I've already ticked off the La Leche Leaguers ... the baby's starting to eat solid food. Though I tried giving her avocado yesterday and all I had to show for my efforts was bright green spit-up.

When my sister was in town for my son's Bar Mitzvah, we came home from shul Friday night to find everybody frazzled and panicked (except my wife; nothing phases that woman). My sister, my mom, my kids. The PT was ecstatic:

"Andrew jumped off the couch and split open his head!"

So I took my sister, my brother in law, and my nephew Andrew and spent Friday night in the ER with the knife and gun club. My sister kept insisting that I jump somehow to the head of the line. "You're a doctor, aren't you? What good are you??"

Boys will be boys.

NOW you're a parent.

My oldest (Now 18) fell down while walking around holding a bottle in his mouth at around..must have been just around or just under 1 year old (we spontaneously bottle-weaned him at 13 months old after forgetting his bottle on the airplane on a trip to Grandma's) I was actually WATCHING HIM while he did this. He put the bottom teeth right through the lip and I freaked (for all I knew) like no mom has ever freaked before! I dragged him to the emergency room immediately, where the doctor patiently explained to me, "WHAT? if I put stitches in it, he's going to yank them. If I put a bandaid on it, he's going to yank it off...go home and stop being such a...NEW MOM!" (paraphrased, of course) After that, BOTH of my younger children did the SAME thing to their lower lips in nearly the SAME manner! (and while I watched or was close-by, I might add) I never skipped a beat, just put a wet icey washcloth on it and kept on going. It gets so much easier after the first time, and those little bottom lip scars are not only cute, but ubiquitous! I can't think of a kid I know who doesn't have one!

I'm really enjoying parents' "war stories" here. Glad to know I'm not the only one whose kid is all scarred!

But he IS listening to me lately, especially when I warn him that something (ie, jumping up and down in his sister's crib, laying on the floor and kicking the sliding glass doors, sitting on the kitchen counter and using his bare feet to explore the knife drawer) is very dangerous.

And yesterday, we had a big hugging session and he wouldn't let go for a while. I asked him what was wrong and he said, "I'm sorry I had a bleed, Mommy."

Awwww ...

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