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Apr 13, 2012

Nothing Says Vacation Like Hard Labor

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The end of spring break is in sight, but oh it’s been a rough week. While we did get out of the house one day, I couldn’t sacrifice more of my work schedule for further outings. Besides, my odds for losing a child had already proven to be high, so I didn’t want to risk it again.

So by Wednesday at exactly 8:32am, the rounds of “I’m bored!” started, along with constant chatter directed at me while I was trying to focus on the computer. I offered them snacks, games, and whatever movies we owned or Netflix had online that they wanted to watch if they would just let me have a little time without needing me. And they took me up on all of them, and then still continued to express their boredom.

By 10am, I was desperate. So (with suggestions from others) I invented a new game: clean the house! Some families go to a beach for spring break; we do hard labor.

Amazingly, the kids seemed excited by it.

Both Cordy and Mira have chores they’re expected to do, but the tasks are limited. Turn off your bedroom lights, put your clothing away, clear your dishes off the table, let the dog out, etc. But neither have really participated in routine cleaning around the house.

I wrote up a quick list of what they could do with limited supervision from me. It was a surprisingly short list. Ah well, even 30 minutes would be a help for me.

And then? I put them to work.

They scrubbed the lower kitchen cabinets:

They took out the recycling. Mira dusted around the TV. They picked up toys and books in their rooms. I even showed Cordy how to mop:

Excuse the blurry photo and messy kitchen.

Surprisingly, the best time-waster chore was asking Mira to take the laundry out of the dryer and put it on my bed. She took one or two items out at a time, so she had to make a lot of trips back and forth. Best. idea. ever.

Cordy did exclaim at one point that she felt like Cinderella, being forced to scrub and mop. She tried to say she felt like a slave, too, but I shut down that direction of thought. For a kid who has very few responsibilities, she has no right to claim we’re treating her like a slave.

Did they do a fantastic job cleaning? Not really. Sure, everything is a little bit cleaner, but the point was to keep them busy and get them interested in helping out more around the house. And I still had to oversee a lot more than I had planned, but hopefully that means I won’t have to oversee as much in the future.

Despite the Cinderella comparisons (which actually just made them sing Cinderella songs while they scrubbed), I think they did enjoy helping out. Mira asked for more to do on Thursday and I had to scramble to think of more chores.

I think I’d still prefer to have a cleaning service if I could ever have it, but I have to admit these two are much cheaper. They work for beans. Jelly beans.

Filed Under: Cordy, daily life, Mira · Tagged:


Apr 11, 2012

Spring Break Madness

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If you’ve noticed how quiet I’ve been this week, I have two words for you: spring break. I used to think that working night shift and sleeping during the day while the kids were home was difficult, but it turns out trying to work from home during the day while they’re home is even harder. Like, near impossible.

Monday was filled with “I’m bored” as I silently cursed that school has to give them a full week off at a time. As I tried to get work done, I reached new lows in bribing the kids to entertain themselves. They were given full control of the TV, they were allowed extra computer time, and I nearly gave in to every food demand just to buy some peace and quiet.

Yesterday I cried uncle, put in a few intense hours of work that morning, and then ordered the girls into the car to meet up with friends in Dayton. Our friends were on spring break, too, so we met halfway and went to the Boonshoft Museum of Discovery. Cordy and Mira have been once before, but this was my first time. It’s a very cool children’s museum that focuses on science and nature, with a lot of fun thrown in, too.

My one complaint with the museum is that it is two floors with a very open floor plan, meaning kids can easily run from one area to another, but with plenty of walls and nooks to lose sight of your children in an instant. If you’re a parent who has to always have your child in view, I’d highly recommend taking any anxiety meds before you go.

There’s also a playground area with a climbing net that goes from first to second floors, and a giant twisty slide that goes back down to the first floor.

 The net – I saw some brave parents trying to climb this thing, too.

The stairs are nearby, which means when you see your child climb to the second floor, then lose sight of them, you climb the stairs to find them only to get to the top, look everywhere, and then peer over the rail to see them back downstairs. By the time you get down the stairs – they’re up again. No amount of waiting for them to return to one level will make it happen, but a trip up or down the stairs will magically change their position to the other floor. It’s exercise for the adults.

It only took five minutes after arrival for me to lose one of my kids. We met with friends, Mira had to use the bathroom, so I left Cordy with our friends at the exhibit right inside the door, telling her to stay with them and I’d be right back. When I came back, I quickly found my friend and her kids, but couldn’t find Cordy. The exhibit only had one way in or out, and she was nowhere to be found.

There was a Staff Only door at the other end of the exhibit and for a moment I worried Cordy had decided to ignore the sign. But just then a voice came over the intercom, “Would Christina please come meet Cordy at the Admissions desk?” I looked at everyone in the exhibit, sighed, “That would be for me.” and went out to the desk. Not 20 feet away from where I was, on the other side of a wall, was Cordy, smiling and waving at me.

“I thought you were gone forever so I asked for help!” she said. I thanked the museum staff and gathered my child, completely embarrassed.

The remainder of the day was less exciting. My two kids made sure to never play together to keep me on my toes, constantly checking to make sure no one had wandered somewhere they shouldn’t. Cordy mostly played by herself, while Mira made friends with every other kid and developed elaborate games with them.

Heeey, itza me, Cordy the plumber!
Mira as judge. The scariest photo you may ever witness.

At the end of the day we had one final moment of drama. I was in the little-kids area chatting with my friends, and thanks to a wall hiding me from the main view, Cordy couldn’t find me again. It was nearly time to go home, so I went looking for her and found her near tears in the playground area. She hugged me and cried, “I couldn’t find you anywhere! I thought you’d left me!I was trying to find my way back to the front to ask for help again.” Apparently she’s really convinced I’m trying to get rid of her.

Note to self: keep an eye on this kid everywhere you go, or you will always be that parent being announced over the intercom.

(Mira, of course, hadn’t seen me in over half an hour and had no concerns whatsoever. I could have left her there until the end of the day and come back to find her still playing and complaining that I was interrupting time with her new friends.)

Overall it was a lot of fun, and succeeded in tiring them out enough for me to get some work done when we got back home. Although I was pretty tired, too.

Unfortunately, I can’t do that every day this week, so today we’re back to creative endeavors at home. Maybe I’ll teach them to clean the house today?

Filed Under: clearly insane, Cordy, family time, kid logic, memories, Mira · Tagged:


Mar 27, 2012

Apple Dumplings a la Me

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When my old job was eliminated, one of the things I vowed to do was become more domestic. (It’s back there on that giant to-do list.) In our house, my husband is the cook. Yes, I have two hands and a brain to put together food, but somewhere between gathering the ingredients and removing it from heat, I generally screw something up to make a meal inedible.

Yes, I’ve actually burned water, if you count leaving water to boil on the stove too long so that it all boiled off and then the pot somehow caught fire.

The one exception is baking, where I tend to be a little better with results, but it can still be hit or miss.

Last week, Ree Drummond, better known as The Pioneer Woman, was in town for a book signing for her new book, The Pioneer Woman Cooks: Food From My Frontier. A group of us gathered for dinner the night before, where I shared with Ree that I planned to use her cookbook to help me in my goal of learning to cook.

(Amy, Ree, Momo, Wenderly, and me)

When I told Cordy and Mira who I was going to see at the bookstore the next day, they insisted on coming along. Cordy has recently decided she wants to be “a sewer, a cooker, and a mom” when she grows up, and Mira echoed that she wants to be the same, but also a vet. I had planned to go alone, but since they were so excited I agreed.

Ree planned for that same small group of us to meet in private before the big signing. We got to the bookstore 45 minutes before the signing started, and already there was practically no parking and the store was jammed full of women holding Ree’s book and lining up to meet her. With Cordy in tow, I was very thankful we could meet in private – she can’t handle waiting in lines and crowds make her extremely anxious and flappy.

Of course, when finally given the opportunity to meet Ree and tell her how much they want to be “cookers” when they grow up, my girls clammed up. Well, Cordy was too distracted to say much more than hi, and Mira focused on Ree’s necklace while placing her hand directly on Ree’s boobs. Mira has a bad habit of trying to get someone’s attention by reaching up and putting her hand on someone’s belly, which as she’s grown has now extended her reach to boobs. Insert my horror in any public situation with her here.

But they did pose nicely for a photo.

Once home, the kids begged to start making food from the book. I put it off until the weekend, and for our first experiment, I picked something to bake: apple dumplings. Baking is my stronger skill, so I wanted to ease into it.

One thing I love about Ree’s book (and her blog) is the number of clear photos she has showing each step of the process. When you’re domestically challenged like me, this is very, very helpful.

The first step was peeling the apples. Um, wait, how do I do that? I grabbed a knife and muddled through it, ending with most of the apple still on the core and no sliced fingers. I’ll call that a success.

Aaron was better at it than me.

But when it came to coring the apples and slicing them into 8 equal slices, I turned to modern convenience:

Hey look, that’s easy!

Rolling the slices into the crescent roll dough wasn’t hard. Mira asked if she could help, picking it up faster than me.

Rollin’, rollin’, rollin’…

We poured the sauce/syrup/whatever you want to call it mixture over the rolled up apples and then put it in the oven. The result?

Clearly, this will never be a food blog & I will never be a food photographer.

I gotta admit, it smelled amazing. And tasted pretty good, too.

OK, so it took the whole family to make apple dumplings (minus Cordy, who decided she really wasn’t that interested in it, but was still willing to taste test), but it was a good first start.

(Full disclosure: this isn’t really a review. I bought the book myself, and while I told Ree I planned to use the book to help me cook, she wasn’t expecting any kind of review. But if you ever meet her in person, you should ask her to show you what she can do with the Juicy Fruit app on her phone.)

Filed Under: Cordy, domestic zero, family time, me me me, Mira ·


Mar 22, 2012

No Answers, More Questions

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After all of the drama of last week’s visit to the doctor and the following blood draw to test for allergies, I had hoped to report one satisfying resolution to that arc of Mira’s story.

Unfortunately, life doesn’t seem to resolve mysteries as in novels or neatly storyboarded television shows, with all loose ends tied up and answers revealed.

Waiting for the results, I was focused more on what kind of lifestyle changes we might have to make to accommodate Mira’s allergies than anything else. What if she really was allergic to dairy and we had to go dairy-free? Or what if she had inherited the seasonal allergies of Aaron or I, but even worse, and would need to start allergy shots to bring some relief?

I didn’t hear anything by Friday afternoon, so I called the office and asked about the results. The doctor we spoke with last week wasn’t in the office, so one of the nurse practitioners called me back a little later with the full report.

Of the enormous list of food allergens and environmental allergens that Mira was tested for, she was allergic to…

None of them.

Wait, what?

The blood test showed no measurable allergy to anything in the test. This included about every kind of pollen, mold, and animal that she might encounter in Ohio, as well as all of the common food allergies and cinnamon. However, the nurse practitioner said the test results did show an elevated IgE level, which indicates she’s having a reaction to something, we just don’t know what.

The next step? Not sure yet. I have to get back in touch with the doctor to determine where to go from here. We may be seeing an allergist, or she may want further tests first. Either way, I need to make sure her symptoms aren’t forgotten. Mira’s flare-ups are random and she hasn’t had a vomiting episode/cramping in nearly a month, but we know it’ll happen again. And the eczema on her head is only slowly responding to the steroid treatment.

I’m glad this kid has such an easy-going personality. She was telling her preschool class last week about the blood draw and described it as, “It really hurt, but they weren’t being mean. They were just doing what they needed to help me feel better. They weren’t trying to hurt me.” Mira knows there may be more testing involved, too, and while I’m sure she won’t be as brave in the moment, she still says she’ll be brave and knows we only want to make her feel better.

That’s Mira – the kid rolls with anything life sends her way. Although she’ll make sure to remind you of the story of her bravery at least once a day for the next month, usually with some parts exaggerated for dramatic flair to make her the star/hero of the story. Maybe she needs her own blog – once she learns how to write.

You’d have thought the St. Patrick’s Day parade was in her honor the way she tells the story.
Filed Under: daily life, Mira · Tagged:


Mar 15, 2012

Mystery Diagnosis

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Mira was supposed to be my “biologically strong” child. Cordy inherited my pale, sensitive skin. Along with autism, she also has a sensitivity to artificial food dyes, has to have her clothing in natural fibers and washed in dye-free, perfume-free detergent, requires fragrance-free lotions, burns if the sun even comes near her skin and easily develops a rash. Mira, on the other hand, is neurotypical and inherited Aaron’s ability to never burn, but rather just develop an even, glowing tan as the summer progresses. She also seemed to have an iron stomach as a toddler, eating nearly anything with a preference for spicy food.

So when Mira started to develop a few strange symptoms last year, I tried to pass them off as nothing. A bit of a rash here and there, occasional bad stomach aches and other digestive issues that I won’t embarrass her future teenage self by writing here. Then she had stomach aches that switched into vomiting, followed by days of practically no appetite. And the rashes continued, to the point of bleeding at times. All of these symptoms lasted a short time and then wouldn’t appear for weeks.

In recent months, the rashes and stomach aches have continued. (She doesn’t have them all the time – they continue to come and go in patterns of days to weeks at a time.) I had hoped they might just go away permanently with a gentle diet and plenty of lotion for sensitive skin, but nothing has helped. Then last week, a new symptom appeared: scaly patches of eczema all over her scalp. I couldn’t ignore it any longer: it was time to see the doctor.

Do you know how hard it is to explain to the doctor why you’re there when you have about 10 semi-related symptoms that aren’t very serious when considered alone but when put together make Google tell you she could have some terrible disease? And even worse when you’re a nurse and don’t even need Google to tell you some of the life-altering conditions that could be diagnosed from these symptoms. I tried to calmly explain it all to the doctor, but even she seemed puzzled by the combination.

The doctor is leaning towards a diagnosis of an allergy, but we have no idea what it could be. Environmental? Food? Who knows at this point. She ordered a prescription steroid solution to help with the eczema and sent us right across the street to the Nationwide Children’s Hospital lab to get blood for an allergy panel. With this many symptoms, it was decided to skip straight to the blood test and avoid elimination diets and skin tests.

Mira was amazingly cheerful through all of this. She told the doctor all about her issues, acting like it was no big deal. She’s lived with many of these issues (off and on) for nearly a quarter of her life, so I’d imagine it is an everyday thing to her.

Getting blood drawn, however, changed her demeanor entirely. I was honest with her about what would happen and she became very nervous as we sat in the waiting room of the lab. She asked if it would hurt, and I told her it would, like a shot does, but only for a moment. Mira has been very brave with shots, so I hoped she’d be OK with this, too.

She wasn’t OK with it. As the med tech looked at her arms to find a good vein, she started to get upset and cry. She held still when the needle went in, but sadly the tech missed and spent WAY too long (in my opinion as a nurse) digging in her arm looking for that vein, which I’m sure hurt a LOT. At that point Mira was no longer brave and just wanted away from that place as fast as possible. Even when the needle was removed she continued to cry hard.

So when she realized they had to do it again (phlebotomy is an art, sadly, and you don’t always get it on the first try), no amount of stickers, suckers, toys or ponies could persuade Mira to go along with this plan. She cried “Not again!” over and over and tried to get off of my lap to run away. I felt horrible. Holding her down for another needle to hurt her made me feel like I was betraying her trust.

They brought in an IV nurse for the second try, and even though Mira was crying, screaming and not nearly as still as before, she got it on the first try and it was all over quickly. It took Mira several minutes to calm down, and Mira and I both felt traumatized as we left the building.

We’ll have the results of her allergy test by the end of the week, and then will decide where to go next, or how we’ll have to alter our lives if she does have an allergy to something we’re exposed to daily.

However, I can tell you there’s nothing wrong with Mira’s memory. She remembered she was promised a sticker. And when we got home she remembered I promised her fruit snacks. And a sucker.

The only reason she’s smiling is because she has a sucker in her hand.

She also brought up the bribe of a toy, too. We’re still negotiating that one.

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