Month: November 2016

For the first year and a half of her life Baby Girl refused to say Mama. I waited impatiently for the day she would call out from her crib – Mama! Mama! Instead, when she wanted my attention she would just cry. You’d think her first word would have been Mama or Dada or something fairly normal. Nope. Her first word was Meow. Because the damn cat never shuts up. Well now that makes two of them. Once Baby Girl figured out the Mama thing (or at least decided she was going to actually use the word – I swear she was holding out because it entertained her to watch my frustration) – she has not shut up since. I gather most kids are like this. MAMA MAMA MAMA MAMA progressing eventually to MOMMOMMOMMOMMOM!

The kid is awfully cute when she’s talking. She’s trying hard to figure out colors – and she’ll say PINK! BUE! WED! YEWWOW! but doesn’t match them to the correct colors yet. Oddly, she knows all the letters of her name if you ask her – and she also knows P, B and O. I have no idea why these particular letters seem to be her favorites. She’s getting easier to understand too which is nice. She’ll say “I DO! I TOO POTTY!” or “I TOO SIDE!” Which means you are putting on your shoes or jacket and she’s panicking because God Forbid you go outside without her. Anytime she wants to do something with you, she’ll put the TOO in front of the word she wants to do – so adorable. Of course this comes with some drawbacks. She’ll want to DO TOO things that are not close to being acceptable. Like cook bacon. Or open the oven. Or push the buttons on the washing machine 40 times. When she does get to do something, she’ll say I DID IT!! She’s so delighted with herself. She’ll say I did it! for just about anything.

She currently has two new favorite phrases. One is “I can’t do it.” Oh boy. (Roll my eyes). I usually respond with “Oh yes. You can.” Because it’s usually something simple like move a toy from one spot to another or throw something in the trash or brush her teeth.  Something she simply doesn’t want to do. If she gets frustrated or mad she will start to scream. I’ve had to threaten her with timeouts over the screaming. I had no idea a 2 year old could scream like that. The volume and pitch of the screaming is like ice picks in my eyeballs. I’ve taken to hiding in my office hoping she won’t find me anytime I sense she’s getting frustrated.

Her other current favorite is “one second.” The kid uses this phrase to procrastinate over everything from changing her diaper to getting dressed to taking a bath. The first two times she said it we just died laughing. She even holds up one finger to accentuate the one second. Of course if you ignore her and continue to do whatever it is you were trying to do she quickly accelerates the one second plea to screaming, as above.

Sissy’s favorite is when Baby Girl says “is cute!” which she’ll say for just about anything. A shirt, a stuffed animal, a cookie – “aww, is cute!” Usually followed by a hug or a kiss. Pretty darn adorable really. My favorite thing is when she says yes. It’s really nice to hear after all the billions of Nos I’ve gotten in the past year. You can finally ask her if she wants something and she’ll say either Yes or No. Thank God. Of course, no still prevails most of the time but at least now I know she knows the difference.

And then there is the Repeat Button. If you even attempt to ignore anything Baby Girl says you are setting yourself up for “MAMA MAMA MAMA MAMA I CAN’T DO IT I CAN’T DO IT MAMA MAMA MAMA FLY MAMA BUG MAMA I CAN’T MAMA HEP HEP MAMA I CAN’T DO IT” until you sigh, get up from your cozy office chair and go get the damn fly swatter so the kid will stop driving you crazy over a fly that will fly away before you find it anyway. And then she’ll say “Where go?” Well, little one, I’m sure with all your screaming you probably busted it’s little ears out and it died a sad, painful death somewhere where you will eventually find it upside down on the floor slightly close to one of your toys which will inadvertently cause another meltdown. Even though it’s dead.

And don’t even try to get yourself a nice sweet tea from Sonic or Chicken Express without intending to share. You’ll get “I TOO TEA I TOO TEA I TOO TEA” incessantly. Even while you are in the process of pouring her tea into her cup or putting her straw in. GEEZ US KID gimme a damn minute! I’m getting you tea!

So the moral of the story is don’t teach your children to talk. Ha ha, just kidding. I just wish they came with an off button, or at least volume control. For those moments in your life when you just can’t take it anymore. I may invest in some ear plugs…

Toddlers on steroids. I highly recommend this. Miserable for children and adults. NON STOP crying. So fun. Just how you always wanted to spend your Thanksgiving week.

Almost two weeks ago Baby Girl started feeling a little under the weather. A little warm, a little cough, a runny nose. Off and on for about a week. Then last Sunday as Sissy curled our hair and we all got ready to go to our Family Christmas Pictures appointment Baby Girl started acting a little cranky. In the truck she was whiny and fussy. Now that’s pretty normal for her – she hates to be in the car seat. But once we get to the location Baby Girl refuses to participate. No smiles, no being still and sweet. No playing with the photographer or laughing with Sissy or Daddy. Aggravating of course, but we got through it.

So then we decided to go to dinner. We get to Olive Garden and Baby Girl does not want to eat. I notice her cheeks are red. The wind, Daddy and Sissy say. I say that’s not normal. As always, Mama knows. Pretty soon Baby Girl is curled up in my lap on the booth seat, not eating and not misbehaving. She falls asleep on the way home. Now I’m getting pretty worried. All of this is VERY unlike her. She’s usually grabbing at food and trying to crawl across the table, or eating the sugar directly out of the packets while I try in vain to actually enjoy what I’m eating.

Next morning I take Baby Girl to her regular doctor – we think she has flu they say. But they can’t do the test for it because they don’t have any. So no definitive diagnosis. Spend a miserable afternoon and evening at home. Little did I realize that things were about to go seriously down hill. Next morning Baby Girl still has a fever. Later that afternoon we do some finger painting which she really enjoys. Then she wants to watch “Mouse” – Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is her favorite thing. At least it’s not Wonder Pets or Dora the Explorer. Although the whole Toodles thing just makes me crazy – how the hell does he hide all the tools and where do they go when they are done with them?!

Anyway, after a little while I come to check on her and she is lying on the floor whimpering and covered in goosebumps and she is BURNING UP. Temperature is 102.6! MAMA FREAKS OUT! Baby Girl has spent relatively little time being sick in her whole two and a half years. She wasn’t sick at all her whole first year. So this is a whole new battleground for which I am woefully unprepared. Call her doctor – doctor says take her to hospital. Now, Daddy is currently in Sherman visiting his Dad, who is also in the hospital. I call him up and tell him to get his a$$ back to Pilot Point.

Once I get her to the hospital she is laying limp in my arms, burning up and whimpering. Of course I have to freak my mom and dad out too so they can share in the worry and stress. They get us back to a Fast Track room (where I later learn is where they take you when they think you aren’t really an emergency and therefore you get a cubicle instead of a room and you get charged less AND you get an NP – not a fully fledged MD). At some lengthy point later they actually do a flu test and it comes back negative. Of course. So then they decide to x-ray her lungs because she is breathing a little weirdly. Or snoring like a freight train through a cold winter night, as I point out.

After about a hundred hours of waiting we finally get the x-ray. Then wait another twelve hours for the results which show Acute Bronchitis. I said “how bad is it?” Wise Guy NP says “bad enough to bring her to the hospital.” Huh. HE says her throat is fine, her ears are fine, her nose is fine. I’m a little skeptical but with the diagnosis I feel a little better. He prescribes antibiotics and steroids to help with the breathing and we go home.

He says wait til tomorrow morning to give her the steroid because it’ll keep  her awake. Thanks for the tip, Doc. Baby Girl and I spend a miserable night with her not breathing well, therefore not sleeping well and myself being totally stressed out and exhausted. That was Tuesday and Tuesday night. I think. I’ve lost all track of the days. This morning my husband asked me what time my first lesson is and I was like “what lessons?” Totally forgot it’s Saturday. Anyway, on Wednesday we give her the steroid. Now, she’s not eating anything at all so she’s hungry but I’m guessing her throat is hurting too bad to eat. Hungry equals cranky. Tired equals crankier. Fever equals Hang On to Mama and Don’t Let Go Even if She has to Pee.

Wednesday afternoon she falls asleep finally about 2:00 after being awake as per the doctor’s prediction. She’s still asleep at 5:00. Daddy says you better wake her up because if you don’t she will never sleep tonight. I’m gonna tell you right now mamas… NEVER LISTEN TO DADDY. I wake her up and she proceeds to cry for THREE HOURS. It was finally my own mom who pointed out that it was probably the steroid causing the tears and the misery. Trying to put her back to bed on Wednesday night I tell my husband I’m going to throw Baby Girl out the window. He takes pity on me and actually comes in to lay down with her. As he should since it was HIS FAULT she’s crying and screaming MILK! MILK! over and over and over and over.

Thursday morning I get to sleep in. After listening to Baby Girl cry (read: Freak the F&*K out) when Daddy went in to get her instead of me, she finally calms down and I go back to sleep. At 8:30 my husband wakes me up and says “Baby Girl isn’t feeling well.” Really? Well this is new news. It’s Thanksgiving morning. But unfortunately he’s serious. Temperature reads 105, 106 and 107. Stupid thermometer is clearly not working right. But she’s obviously burning up and whimpering again so…. back to the ER we go.

THIS time we are “upgraded” to private room, an MD and an even longer wait while they decide A) what is really going on and B) what new charges they can come up with. Pus all in the back of her throat. Tonsils wickedly swollen, lymph nodes swollen. Strep test is negative. MONO test is positive. How the hell does a toddler get mono?! So of course I google it. WebMD and all the other helpful sites say that if a young child gets mono, the symptoms are usually so light that most of the time you don’t even know they have it. Uh huh. Interesting. What a bunch of baloney. Baby Girl is sick enough to be in the ER on Thanksgiving Day. I don’t think that qualifies as “lightly symptomatic.”

So eventually (like 3 pm) we get to go home once again. My mom and dad have come anyway bearing turkey and all the fixings. They are at the house waiting for us, bless their hearts. My mom and I spend the late afternoon wondering why the thing on the turkey won’t pop up. My husband and my dad spend the afternoon fixing a broken water pipe by one of the paddocks. Baby Girl sleeps and is miserable. Turkey dinner at 7 pm! We are thankful for NOT currently being in the ER.

Friday I make the mistake of giving her the steroid again – she falls asleep twice on her own – once on the living room floor and once on the floor in her own room. This time I do not wake her up but as soon as she does wake up it’s NON STOP CRYING all over again. OH what fun! What joy! My parents take off to go back home. Can’t say that I blame them. Baby Girl spends the whole day crying, whining and clinging to me. But finally the day is over and steroid has worn off and the rest of the bottle is now in the trash can.

This morning Baby Girl has finally woken up without a fever. She is smiling and eating a cookie. She is playing. I realize she may have re-lapses over the next few weeks before she gets over this entirely but for now I am grateful for the respite.

We are thankful.

This past weekend opened up a whole new can of Mama Bear Roars that I didn’t even know existed. All her life Baby Girl has been gushed over and cooed at and told she’s adorable. As her Mama, I just glowed with the never ending praise of her and never had any reason to have to defend her or protect her feelings because nothing negative had EVER happened. Until Sunday.

I have been teaching children for about 20 years. I have been their coach, their cheer leader, their champion, their devil’s advocate, and their other mom. I have loved them and respected them, and with some, got close enough to have fantastic relationships with them throughout their childhood and into adulthood. I have cried with them, cried over them, and cried because of them.

But NOTHING prepares you for the strength of the love you have for your very own child that bears your entire heart in her tiny little body. When she cries, you want to cry. When she hurts, your heart breaks. When they are first learning about this world they live in you rejoice in their discoveries and watch with wonder as their world expands around them. They have such joy with all things that you are completely unprepared for their first taste of disappointment. Getting peed on by a frog is not the same thing, y’all.

As a horse trainer and riding instructor mom, it was my dream for my little girl to ride horses herself. I could not wait for the moment she would get to wear braids and jodphurs and sit on that pony at her first horseshow. I bought the pink and blue bows with the “S” monogram on them about 6 months ago. I searched eBay for the littlest boots I could find. A friend gave her the cutest little black show gloves. Baby Girl and her Sissy practiced walking, practiced jump position and were totally pumped for her first lead line class. Sissy would take Baby Girl in the arena while Mama and Dada cheered from the sidelines. All Baby Girl’s friends (my students and their parents) would be watching. They were all just as excited as she was. The parents volunteered to take pictures and video, the girls did Apolo’s (the pony) hooves and were on standby for however they might be needed. We showed up at the arena at about 8:45 am ready for the class to start around 9:00. There were four other little girls in her class so it was going to be a competition! (Where they all win blue ribbons and stuffed ponies of course).

And we waited. Now, I KNOW all about the “hurry up and wait” issue at shows. Lord knows I’ve been to about a billion shows. But as we waited for the conflict in the other ring to end so Baby Girl’s class could go, she soon got tired of being on the pony. OK let’s get down and play with the doggie for a little while. Thirty minutes later the doggie was done playing and Baby Girl was ready to do something else. She’s pretty good at entertaining herself so she played with rocks, ate candy, and messed with her sister. After TWO HOURS the class still had not gone. At this point it’s going on 11 am and it’s time for Baby Girl’s nap. Sissy puts Baby Girl back on the pony and takes her over to the little field to walk around, where inevitably, disaster strikes. A horse spooked and Apolo jumped sideways slightly and Baby Girl falls off. On the opposite side of where Sissy was so she couldn’t even catch her. Baby Girl is now in tears and no longer wants to ride. She wants her paccy and her snuggie and she wants to go home.

Finally I ask if I could take her in the arena to walk around once because it was obvious we were not going to make it until whenever the class would eventually be held. Baby Girl cried all the way around the arena. Not because she was scared to ride but because she was just pooped. She had actually been at the show all day Friday, all day Saturday, and then this whole morning. She had been so good the entire time and she was just DONE. Dada then took her home where she finally fell asleep for the afternoon.

I was disappointed for her, because she did not get to do what she had practiced so hard for, and I was disappointed for myself because the moment I had been dreaming of had gone up in smoke. I thought I would complain to the President of the organization about making the little girls wait for almost three hours for their class. (I was told the class finally went about 45 minutes after Baby Girl left). Y’all – these girls are all 2 1/2 to 4 or 5 years old. They are doing Lead Line for pete’s sake. They should not have to wait three hours. Concessions should be made. Figure It The F**K Out is what I wanted to say. I managed not to say exactly that, but as I made my complaint I was astounded by the response I received. Zero compassion for the little girls. Zero tolerance for my disappointment and anger. And yes, I yelled. I didn’t start out yelling, but when your complaint and your concerns are not heard and not acted on and you are standing there trying to advocate for your child’s feelings and you are not winning, a Mama Bear suddenly and ferociously consumes you. I walked out of that office stunned and heartbroken. Then I saw those other little girls who had managed to wait it out and were able to participate in their class. I saw them on their ponies with their blue ribbons and I lost it. Thankfully a good friend of mine was there on her massive horse to shield my tears from the general public.

Later that day the Show Manager did try to make things right for which I am extremely grateful. She was kind, and compassionate and even offered to re-do the class. She reacted to my disappointment in a way that dispelled my anger and made me feel heard. Such an important thing to do for someone who had looked forward to this moment for such a long time.

Baby Girl will get to show again, I know. There will be more shows, more ribbons, and plenty of good times. But the very first show will never happen again. That moment can never be replaced, and it was tainted with tears and disappointment. However, I have a ton of photos of her smiling in her bows with her pony, her Sissy, her Dada and me. And that’ll have to be what we remember. Smiles and Good Friends.

 

Baby Girl was practically born in a barn. Nine months pregnant I was still driving a tractor and going to horseshows. I was, in fact, at a show the Sunday before she was born. My Dad had purchased the “ATV of strollers” so that we would be ready after she was born because there wasn’t a chance I wasn’t going to continue where I left off. She has been to countless horseshows since, and only for a little while when she was about 1 and a half to 2 years old was it very difficult. Now that she can walk and play and ride (some) she is pretty easy at horseshows. She collects rocks and plays with her toys and loves all the attention she gets.

Baby Girl loves all animals. She will say pretty much anything other than a dead cricket on the floor in our house is cute. Frogs, cats, puppies, any and all dogs, horses, goats, pigs, she loves them all. Her very first word was “meow” because she was copying the cat in our house. Now she tells him to Hush! and Get Down! and constantly asks for treats to feed him. (We’ve progressed from her eating the treats to actually giving them to the cat!). She is super sweet with other animals, too. Except occasionally when she tortures the cat on purpose because he lets her. She will pat the horse as she is riding it, she will be so soft and sweet with anything new she finds. You can tell she just adores them all. I even got her to kiss a frog once and it was surprisingly easy. She wants to pet the chickens and birds and is totally devastated when they fly away before she can reach them.

She has been, literally, raised in a barn. The work didn’t stop because the baby was born. It was achingly hard for awhile, for me, to watch as my husband and my employee Hannah did everything I wanted to do while I stayed inside with the baby, or walked around the property with her but couldn’t take my eyes or hands off her even for a second. As she has gotten bigger, however, she can run around and play while I do things in the barn. I can’t ride yet while she’s with me, but we clean stalls and feed the horses and get the hay and fill grain buckets and sweep and a million other little things that make me happy. She tries so hard to help. Being outside makes her happy too. She can find a stick or a flower or a mushroom or a pile of gravel Dada would rather she not spread out, and be completely absorbed for at least ten minutes at a time. (Ten minutes is a looonnngg time to a toddler). The pile of gravel is the BEST fun. When it was a huge pile she would climb and slide and climb and slide and got fantastically dirty. Later that day when I went to change her diaper, I pulled her pants off and gravel flew everywhere. Mind you, she had already taken her nap in her bed with this gravel in her pockets!

I used to have to have someone stay right on top of her at all times while I was teaching lessons. Now she will play inside or outside the arena while I teach. I would prefer outside of course, but sometimes she sneaks in to collect all the flowers from the flower boxes. She likes to get one of each color and then proceeds to tell me which is pink, which is blue, which is yewwow. She’s learned to get out of the way of the horses. She knows what it means when they jump. She will watch videos of the girls riding with me, when we’re in the house. But most important of all, she wants to WIDE herself. If she gets in the mood she will cry and beg and stomp and tell me 18 times that she wants to WIDE. Honestly it’s music to my ears. I love that she wants to ride so badly. She is certainly not afraid. She only walks, of course, but that is good enough for her and good enough for Mama right now too!

I decided a couple of months ago she was going to do lead line in our Year End Show coming up this weekend. She is now the proud owner of jodphur pants, paddock boots, black teeny tiny gloves she probably won’t wear, a belt that Dada made out of an old rein, a pink polo shirt and a white turtleneck. You never can tell with the weather in Texas. Of course she has a helmet, and a black cover for it. She’s totally ready for Sunday’s lead line class that Mama is highly anticipating. She will probably refuse to WIDE that day. It wouldn’t surprise me. You never can tell with bees.

When we are outside you usually have to bribe her to get her back inside. It may be wet, cold, windy but that little barn rat wants to be out in it! She wants to run up and down the paddock aisle while I feed the horses, she wants to help feed the horses grain and hay. She wants to climb on the gates. She now knows which bucket is “Sugar’s” and she can say the names of some of the horses (Sugar, for example. And Gracie.) She loves to splash in water, muddy or not. She does not care how dirty she gets.

As the era of the official “barn rat” seems to be coming to a close, it brightens my day and my heart to see her so happy outside and in the barn. Out of all the thousands of pictures I have of her outside, in the barn, and riding, it will be difficult to choose one for this story. I hope this story doesn’t have an ending. I pray that Baby Girl continues throughout her life to be a Barn Rat. Like her Mama.

A lot of people really enjoy Halloween. The fall weather, the spooky decorations, the dressing up, the candy. In my immediate family only one of us really enjoys it. And it’s not the toddler. It’s the teenager of course. What’s not to love about dressing up and going around the neighborhood with your friends, freaking each other out and getting a sugar high?

The toddler, on the other hand, has not quite figured this whole “Halloween = candy” stuff yet. By the morning after the trick or treating she had completely forgotten about the bag full of sweets she collected the night before. This was a lucky break for Mama and Sissy – eating the candy is the only part of Halloween that I enjoy. We were more than happy to step in on the candy-eating responsibility of the after trick-or-treating.

Back back to the beginning of October. When tacky costumes, orange and black crap and Halloween candy is the first thing you are assaulted with when you enter any retail store. And you’d better be pretty quick to decide and select because by a week before Halloween all this stuff is gone. Cleared. Final sales mixed with a small selection of Thanksgiving items. Then BAM, the day after Halloween you get the final sales on the Thanksgiving stuff and Christmas is in full swing. I made the mistake of waiting til a couple days before Baby Girl’s school Halloween party to go looking for something yummy to make for her 2 year old classmates. I found a bag of candy corn and some orange jello. I ended up with banana nut muffins with chopped up candy corn in them and the jello is still in the cupboard. Only a few were eaten.

Oh and I also had to have a costume for Baby Girl by the time of that party. There was to be a “costume parade” through all the classrooms. Now normally I throw a pretty cool Barn Halloween Fest where the kids all dress up their ponies and themselves and play games on horseback which in years past has been hugely popular. This year I was so stressed out about Baby Girl’s Halloween fun that I totally let that go. Did not even get the decorations out of the attic. Not a single pumpkin on my doorstep. My step daughter asked me two days before Halloween if I was going to have the Barn party. Are you out of your mind kid?! Honestly, none of the barn kids sans one even asked if I was going to do it so I guess it was no big loss after all. Although I did want to do a circus theme and have Baby Girl and Corkie (pony) dress up as baby elephants. Maybe next year.

Back to the costume problem. Grandma suggested something easy like a Minnie Mouse dress and ears. MOOOOMMMM that’s way too generic! In retrospect, why do I feel like Baby Girl would have happily put that costume on? Anyway, I searched. And I searched. Looked in stores. Looked online. Could not decide on anything. If I’d had more energy I’m sure I could have created something she would have loved. But creating something this year did not even enter into the stratosphere of possibilities. I was going to buy something cute! Finally I settled on an adorable Lion costume I found at Target. Took it home thinking Baby Girl would love it. She loves to roar at us with her little plastic Fisher Price lion so this was a sure thing right? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. No.

Here is a picture of Dada wearing the lion costume on his head trying to convince Baby Girl it’s cute and a good idea. You can tell by the look on her face that this is not working. She really enjoyed roaring with Dada. But only while HE was wearing the costume.

Not to be discouraged I thought, “Alright. She’ll get used to it. I’ll leave it in her playroom and she can mess around with it and maybe she’ll want to put it on at some point.”

Yeah. No. She simply moved it out of her way in order to do other things. Never even looked at it. So on the morning of the party I packed it up with her and the candy corn banana nut muffins and headed off to school. Huge diarrhea blow out on the way there. Have to pull over and get her all cleaned up. Have to take her pants off. So I get to the school and of course even with the pit stop I’m still the first one there (I am always the first one there) and I’m standing outside holding a cranky toddler with a diaper and a tee shirt on with her lion costume still in the truck while all these other adorable cuties are walking up in princess dresses and bumblebee costumes and PJ Masks Cat Boy outfits. I don’t even bother to say anything.

Finally inside the classroom I explain that I need to borrow the pants that are in her “extra clothes” cubby and that I can’t get her to wear her costume. The teacher (a saint) says go get the costume, maybe I can get it on her. Sure lady, we can try. Sure enough, she bribes my kid with M&M’s and the costume goes on long enough for me to get this picture:

You can tell she loves it. I have no idea how long the costume stayed on. I hightailed it out of there and left the teacher to it.

So on Halloween night I was sure I could bribe her again to get it on so we could go trick or treating. We pull over in the neighborhood we visited for this purpose and I get her out of the car seat and tell her it’s time to put her costume on. OH HELL NO. The fight is on. She screams and cries and I beg and plead and offer candy. Dada sits in the truck with an “I told you so” look. Finally I decide that once she sees other kids with their costumes on she will agree. How am I so dead wrong all the time? I swear I used to know things.

Sooooo we ended up trick or treating in a onesie and tennis shoes. To their credit everybody remarked how adorable she is and did not ask where her costume was. It’s a good thing because I probably would’ve gone for their necks. Or broke down crying. Baby Girl quickly learned two new words – house and lights. Because I told her we could only go ask for candy at the houses with lights on. Predictably when it came time to go home she threw a major fit and screamed HOUSE HOUSE HOUSE until I physically picked her up and chunked her none too softly into her car seat. The kid is brave though. She walked up to all sorts of scary things and grabbed her candy. She wasn’t going to miss out just ‘cuz something was a little creepy. AND she even leaned down and kissed a little pumpkin light thing on someone’s walk way and said it was cute. Awwww.