In preparation for my first child, I was super pumped to decorate the nursery. We had a four bedroom house, and only the master and one other were in use - and that one (the office) could be moved, so really, I had the choice of thee rooms. I chose the biggest, brightest one at the front of the house. It had three windows and I had visions on my infant and I, smiling and playing in all of the beautiful, natural light that filled the room.
Enter reality. I've written at length about my son's sleeping troubles, and that light turned out to be my mortal enemy. The windows that had previously been treated with just nice, clean, California shutters had to be covered over with super ugly, rolldown black-out shades :( Another mommi friend had a gorgeous palladian window in her sons's room, and adorable, custom-made curtains for the lower part...but she ended up hanging a comforter over the curtain bar to block out more light, and stuffing the palladian semi-circle with pillows to obscure that. Another just taped up garbage bags on the window in her baby's room to get the light-blocking job done in the meantime, before she could find a better solution.
Maybe you have nice, easy-sleeping babies who flourish in the pretty light. But if not, take my advice and choose the darkest, quietest room in your house to be your nursery. A walk in closet will do. I'm only half kidding. When my son was about 18 months, we visited a friend in Ottawa, and Avery had to sleep in a playpen in a walk-in closet - wait, wait - before you judge: I called ahead to make sure the closet had proper ventilation, and it was the fanciest, biggest closet I had ever seen - much nicer than the fanciest room in my house! It had gleaming, red wood floors, a matching California Closets system, and two chambers to it - one just a space for you to twirl around in front of the mirror! It was the closet if most girls' dreams, being totally wasted on a GUY ( a straight guy!!!)! But I digress...my point was going to be that Avery was never such a good sleeper as he was in that closet.
While convenient, avoid making the nursery right next to your own room, or any room that is likely to be occupied and noisy after baby bedtime. You have a monitor, right? Use it, and give yourself a bit of separation (physically, only, of course) from your infant. Don't overlook bathrooms, either: plumbing in the wall against which your kid's crib or bed is can be very noisy, and then you'll start not flushing the toilet every time you use it - which, while environmentally friendly, gets pretty gross - just trust me on that one :s
Anyhow, in preparation for Baby #2, I was wiser than I was the first time around. I also had help! The first time, my now-ex-husband was too busy to help me with the nursery, and I was too excited to wait! So, my mom and I painted the room, and my friend Karen and I assembled the crib, and so on (thank you!). This time around, my baby daddi (FIANCE now, did I mention? :D :D :D) was there with me every step of the way, and set up the furniture and did most of the painting all by himself (including Baby #1's room, because I'm very consumed with making sure he gets just as much attention and spoiling as new baby ;), which was a very nice contrast to my first experience :)
I was going to share photos, and I guess I still will a little later (I can't access the website where the photos are stored from my current location)...but what I'm about to share puts my designs kind of to shame anyway :s My good friend, Krista Salter, is a designer and owner of KMSalter Designs, but she is also a blogger, and did a delicious post on nursery design. Click here to check it out, and steal some inspiration for your own nursery. (Also check out my comments, because I feel they raise some valid points to consider when planning your own space ;))
Got any nursery-planning advice of your own? What's on your windows??
Thursday, 29 March 2012
Thursday, 22 March 2012
The Real Nanny Diaries
I stayed home with my son for the first year of his life, and when I returned to work, I felt he was still too young for daycare. My own mother had had a nanny for me when I was young, and her thought was that I could go into traditional care when I was old enough to talk, advocate for myself, or at least verbalize any complaints! I guess I adopted her line of thinking - plus, I was such a Sleep Nazi, and couldn't fathom the idea that my child would ever be able to nap at daycare at that age - and I was afraid of germs :s I realized he would be exposed to germs and get viruses at some point in his life; but under 2 years of age, there is little you can offer a child in terms of medical relief from illnesses, and again, the verbal thing: if he didn't get sick until he was a bit older, he could at least tell me what didn't feel good, and I'd be in a better position to help him. I know I'm neurotic - whatever.
My point is that I needed to return to work (a year of EI, followed by 2 months of absolutely no income (because I'm a teacher, and my mat leave ended just when summer holidays began), coinciding with the time I decided I needed to leave my marriage and my home with a baby, and another year and 9 months of bitter divorce negotiations and legal fees looming up ahead would create that need in most people, don't you think?). And I needed childcare. And I'm not lucky enough to be from a traditional or European family in which the grandparents just assume all childcare responsibility - and for free, at that! So, I needed a nanny.
Before leaving my marriage, we had planned to go the nanny route anyway, and had a friend and neighbour's Czech mother lined up to do the job. She would have been wonderful. She was kind and warm and wise - and being friends with one of her own adult daughters, I was able to see the result of her efforts, and it was good ("it" is you, Vendy!) :) However, as with many good things, that arrangement fell apart when I had to move out of the matrimonial home. Lovely Czech Grandma Nanny had only one flaw: she didn't drive, and bussing it to another city was an unreasonable request.
So I started researching nannies. I started with agencies, but they had 2 flaws: 1. their nannies are crazy expensive, and 2. they mostly deal with live-in nannies from overseas, and I was not in a position to offer live-in accommodation in my temporary-ghetto home (although I would have LOVED that).
Next, I hit Kijiji (similar to Craig's List or whatever sort of free listing service might exist in your area) and started searching. Here is what I learned.
First: most nannies don't drive for whatever reason. So, you need to live on a bus route, and close enough to whoever you hire.
Second: most nannies are not the kindly old grandmother-types you might imagine. I guess those don't really exist, because they are taken up by their own families. So, nannies who advertise on websites and in the paper are usually YOUNG - which usually also means inexperienced and uneducated. I don't even like writing this next part, but I have to: it also often means unreliable and irresponsible - not the sort you want watching your baby. Sorry, Responsible Mature Youth: I realize this generalization does not apply to all of you, but sadly, those it does outnumber you.
Third: a lot of nannies are not actually nannies. They are people who either have kids of their own who prevent them from getting other jobs (which means they will want to bring their kids with them to work in your home, and I personally, do not think any mommi can honestly say they can put their own child's needs AFTER yours' - and if they could, would you want that sort of person caring for yours??), or who have no real employable skills, and figure anyone can babysit! Um, no.
Last: lots of nannies (and people in general) are just WEIRD. For example, I interviewed (well, almost) one girl who sounded great on paper - she wrote about family values in her cover letter, explaining how she'd been home schooled and helped raise her own siblings, how involved she was in her church, etcetera...but when she showed up for her interview, I opened the door to a man. Nono - she was not a he. It was her father. HE wanted to interview ME before deciding whether I could interview his daughter! Okay...points for being a VERY responsible parent...but I'm looking to employ an adult - and adults don't bring their dads with them to job interviews.
I posted my own Nanny Wanted ad, and got better results than just searching through "available" ads. Most candidates I weeded out due to typos or grammatical errors in their resumes (what?? One year old is when babies do a TONNE of language acquisition, and did I want my child exposed to double negatives, mispronunciations, slang, and worse offences: like people who say things like "I SEEN a kid the other day", "I should OF done that...", and so on??? If you do not know the answer to this question, you missed my post on my various Nazi-isms - grammar being one of them.), others because they failed to punctuate or capitalize, others because they didn't even have a resume, and more because they used "lol" in their emails, or seemed more concerned with the pay and hours than with any questions related to my child.
But I did eventually hire a nanny. Three nannies to be accurate. One is not worth mentioning, only because she was normal and didn't engage in any laugh-worthy antics. But the others...well...here you go!
GROSSEST NANNY EVER
This was the first nanny I hired. I believe she was employed for about 2 weeks. She had step children as experience, seemed very nice, and was a singer by trade (allegedly).
But she showed up late on the very first day - and most days after that, as well. Luckily, I had my nannies scheduled to arrive 30 minutes before I actually had to leave the house in order to be on time myself - but I needed that time to actually get ready for work and stuff (things that take way longer with an infant attached to your leg). I was paying her hourly, so I started recording her start and end times to the minute in effort to make a point. She did not get the point, though, and often showed up with a Tim Horton's coffee - further infuriating me, because that says to me: I'm not late because of things beyond my control; I assessed my timelines and decided getting myself a coffee was more important than being on time for work.
Additionally, she showed up dirty. It's not like I expected a nanny to be dressed up for work with a baby...but clothing that was not torn, stained, too short because the bottoms had been inexplicably worn off, or faded past the point of recognition and featuring Disney characters would have been nice. She wore running shoes with no socks, and then took them off in my house, and her toes were visibly dirty and unmanicured. It was horrendous. But I'll save the best (worst) for last...
This is not the worst, but she was also..."lacking in common sense". Here are two examples: 1. I came home unannounced at lunch one day because I had forgotten something. She was preparing some frozen organic vegetables as part of my son's lunch - good! But she was microwaving them, (I know - microwaving is questionable itself, but that wasn't my biggest objection) in a SEALED plastic container! Now, the plastic was BPA-free, of course, because I had purchased it, not her...but sealed?? I could see the lid bending and bubbling in the microwave. I asked her if it was sealed, just because I coudlnt' quite believe my eyes, and she said yes, not comprehending my horror. "Isn't it going to explode?" I asked. "It hasn't before," she replied. "But where is the steam supposed to escape to??" my panic was rising. "I don't know," she said. Then I heard a horrible pop as the lid broke off and vegetables splattered all over the inside of the microwave. Come on - for real? Who doesn't know that you have to remove the lid??? 2. My nannies had a different "Nap-Time Task" to complete while my child was sleeping - this is the difference between a nanny and a babysitter: nannies are responsible for light housekeeping, as well as child care, and are thus paid more (several applicants - and employees - had difficulty with this, even though it was clearly outlined in their contracts). One of these tasks was washing the floors. This duty was assigned once a week, and it was a small apartment with tile and hardwood floors. So, I was perplexed when the bottle of Pinesol I had purchased lasted only 2 weeks. Knowing this nanny was not the brightest, I had been careful to leave VERY specific instructions on how to complete each task: pick up rugs and shake outside, sweep floors, wash floors using mop and bucket in closet, and Pinesol under sink - including under furniture...but I had failed to tell her to DILUTE THE PINESOL WITH WATER. She was using it full-strength - half a bottle each time! WTF??? No wonder my house always smelled SO strongly of the stuff when I came home, and why the floors always failed to be shiny!
She also got in the habit of asking to be paid early. The arrangement was that she would be paid every Friday, but she often asked to be paid Thursday. I would agree, but would only pay her for the time worked up until that point - i wasn't about to PRE-pay for the work she may or may not do on Friday! She didn't understand this and took issue with it.
But here is the worst: a compilation of the worst, all rolled into one day, actually... The day began with her being late - no surprise. She asked if she could leave early that day because she was going to a singing competition at a local fall fair right after work. Whatever - I allowed myself an extra 30 minutes at the end of my day in case I needed to run errands or whatnot before I went home, so I could just go straight home that day and let her leave as soon as I got there. She had some hideous green once-bridesmaid dress I'm sure and a bag of other supplies with her, which should have been the first red flag - but of course, since she'd been late, I was in a rush to get to work so didn't give it much thought. When I got home, I heard my son crying before I even got in the house. I rushed in, and found him still in his crib in his room in the dark, having clearly awoken from his nap some time ago. Gross Nanny was in the bathroom, already in her crazy dress, spraying her hair with hairspray - my hairspray. I was aghast: was this woman honestly primping for her competition while ignoring my child - and being paid for it??? But before I even had a chance to say anything, she saw me, grabbed her stuff, and dashed for the door. She did say, "Oh - look who's up" when she noticed Avery in my arms in the hallway. And then she was gone. And I was FUMING. But it gets worse. I comforted my boy and got that situation under control, played for a bit, and then had to use the washroom. My hair brush was out on the counter, and I looked to find it filled with her nasty hair! I dropped it, shuddered, and moved to the toilet. There were streaks of (you think I'm going to say poo here, don't you? Well, that reminds me of the time I came home and did find just that - poo - on the toilet seat, the side of the bowl, on the floor, and on the wall - clearly the result of a diaper change gone wrong - and hey, it happens - but then you clean it up!!! But anyway, no: I'm not going to say poo...) BLOOD on the bowl! I backed up in disgust, crashing into the shower and putting my hand on the window ledge to steady myself, NARROWLY missing the greatest horror yet: a USED TAMPON, sitting on my window ledge!!! I had no choice but to stifle my gag reflex and dispose of it myself, then disinfect the toilet. Then I washed my hands, but when I went to dry them, I discovered a soaking wet towel - she had obviously taken a shower at my house, used one of my towels to dry her filthy self, shedding skin cells all over I'm sure, then just hung the towel back on the rack, where it might easily be used by myself or my child! So, so gross. And when did she have time to do all of this?? While poor Avery cried, alone in his room? While I paid her? I needed some air, so decided it was time Avery and Mommi headed out for a walk. And it was on that walk that I found, not the grossest, but the most upsetting offence of all: one of my son's "sleepies", soaked and filthy on the side of the road. That might not seem like such a big deal, especially after the rest of the crap she pulled that day...but those sleepies are Avery's most precious belongings - the things he loves more than anything, and depends on for security and comfort.
That was the last straw. Or maybe the tampon had been the worst straw already. But at that moment I realized that I needed to fire her immediately, despite having no backup childcare arranged for the next day. I would call in sick and stay home with my baby, using the time to find another nanny ASAP. And that is what I did. But first, I pussied out and took advantage of the fact that I knew Gross Nanny was at her stupid singing competition and unable to answer her home phone (did I mention she didn't own a cell phone? Who doesn't own a cell phone?? I had to have a phone line installed at my apartment just for her use, to ensure she could reach me in an emergency, due to her lack of a cell phone). I called and left a message saying that something had come up and I wouldn't need her the next day, but to check her email for further details. Then I fired her by email. The only problem was that this woman held a key to my home :s I decided to bribe her with money to return the key, but she never mailed it back like I had asked. For months, I lived in fear that she would one day show up and torch my place, but luckily it never happened, and even more luckily, I moved out of there soon after.
I hired another nanny the very next day...
ONE EXTREME TO THE OTHER NANNY
This nanny vastly improved mine and Avery's lives. For a while.
She was only 18, and I was skeptical...but she was punctual, dressed professionally, had been accepted into the Early Childhood Educator program for the next year at a local college, so clearly wanted to work with children, as opposed to just having no skills and being resigned to it, waqs fluent in French, and had work experience at a daycare centre. She was cute and enthusiastic and fantastic. I asked her to babysit for an hour that night, because I needed a sitter, and also to give her a chance to familiarize herself with the house (because Avery would already be in bed). All I asked her to do was to feel free to snoop through cupboards and get a feel for where things were. But when I got home, she had watered the plants, washed the windows, folded some clothes, and dusted the living room. She told me that she had gone in to check on my sleeping child every 20 minutes (okay, a little overkill - and I later had to school her in my Sleep Nazi ways, which involve NEVER risking waking a sleeping child - but anyway...) <3 <3 <3 LOVE <3 <3 <3
She took to Avery and he to her instantly, and was a perfect fit to our lives. She was often early for work and didn't expect to get paid for it. Oh - and did I mention she only wanted to be paid $40 a day??? I couldn't do that. I'm sure it breaks laws and is exploitation or child labour or something. So, I insisted on paying her more, for which she loved me - and I loved her. I'd come home to a clean house and a happy child every day. My son's language and vocabulary were developing and expanding, she did cute crafts with him and taught him adorable little songs. She bought him stylish fashion for gifts. Life was fantastic.
Until it wasn't. After a few months, she claimed to have hurt her back and was therefore unable to complete many of the housekeeping tasks. Alright. Then she wanted more money, and, while I was paying her more than she had originally asked, it was still pitifully little, so that wasn't totally unreasonable...but we had a contract, so no - not right now. But that was a mistake, because shortly after that she began seriously slacking. She'd be a little bit late, she'd be visibly unhappy, she started sleeping on the job - literally: I came home to hear my son crying in his room, and she was passed out beside a mop and bucket on the couch. She didn't wake up when I called her name, and so I sent the kid in there to shake her. She awoke, but seemed dazed and I started to worry about drug usage (or perhaps chemical inhalation due to sleeping next to a bucket of Pinesol (and water this time, though!)). A few days later, she told me she'd been offered another nannying position with more hours and better pay. I mistakenly thought this was an opening to discuss giving her a raise, but she had already decided, and despite having signed a one-year contract, she was taking the other job and wanted to start as soon as possible. I was furious! One, because she was just totally disregarding the contract she had signed - and there was very little I could do about it, given that any contract is only legally enforceable if you are willing to pay the money and take the time to go to court over it. Two, because this would mean yet another disruption in my poor little guy's life, and he really liked this nanny! Three, because these nannies really have you over a barrel: you can't force them to work if they are unhappy, because they are in charge of your children, and you can't risk them taking out their displeasure with you on the babies!
So, that was the end of that. I cut her loose earlier than she expected, only because I was angry with her, and was able to find another nanny who I actually knew personally quite quickly.
There was another nanny, and it was not a perfect fit, either, but not nearly as drama-filled as the other two had become. What I learned is that having a nanny can dramatically improve your quality of life...or make it absolute hell. And you often get what you pay for. We made it through that year with in-home nanny care, but now that my son attends daycare, I can say that good nannies are better than daycare providers - but bad ones are far worse than the worst daycare provider - at least the worst daycare provider in a licenced and regulated daycare centre. They're just held more accountable, so have to be better.
I stand by my decision to keep my son home until he was old enough to communicate, advocate for himself, and fend off illnesses better! But am very happy with our current daycare situation, and have already reserved a future spot for my unborn baby :)
I should note that One Extreme To The Other Nanny did make good of her promise to stay in touch with Avery, and my rage and hurt at her abandoning us dissipated with time. She's a good person, just young, and maybe not aware of how her decisions impact others, or that sometimes doing what doesn't seem to be best for YOU at the time, can really be the best overall... She'll learn :) And I think she's going to be great in her career in anything child-related.
That was a long one, and it was tiring reliving that nanny drama! Almost doesnt' seem real... Is anyone still reading at this point? ;)
My point is that I needed to return to work (a year of EI, followed by 2 months of absolutely no income (because I'm a teacher, and my mat leave ended just when summer holidays began), coinciding with the time I decided I needed to leave my marriage and my home with a baby, and another year and 9 months of bitter divorce negotiations and legal fees looming up ahead would create that need in most people, don't you think?). And I needed childcare. And I'm not lucky enough to be from a traditional or European family in which the grandparents just assume all childcare responsibility - and for free, at that! So, I needed a nanny.
Before leaving my marriage, we had planned to go the nanny route anyway, and had a friend and neighbour's Czech mother lined up to do the job. She would have been wonderful. She was kind and warm and wise - and being friends with one of her own adult daughters, I was able to see the result of her efforts, and it was good ("it" is you, Vendy!) :) However, as with many good things, that arrangement fell apart when I had to move out of the matrimonial home. Lovely Czech Grandma Nanny had only one flaw: she didn't drive, and bussing it to another city was an unreasonable request.
So I started researching nannies. I started with agencies, but they had 2 flaws: 1. their nannies are crazy expensive, and 2. they mostly deal with live-in nannies from overseas, and I was not in a position to offer live-in accommodation in my temporary-ghetto home (although I would have LOVED that).
Next, I hit Kijiji (similar to Craig's List or whatever sort of free listing service might exist in your area) and started searching. Here is what I learned.
First: most nannies don't drive for whatever reason. So, you need to live on a bus route, and close enough to whoever you hire.
Second: most nannies are not the kindly old grandmother-types you might imagine. I guess those don't really exist, because they are taken up by their own families. So, nannies who advertise on websites and in the paper are usually YOUNG - which usually also means inexperienced and uneducated. I don't even like writing this next part, but I have to: it also often means unreliable and irresponsible - not the sort you want watching your baby. Sorry, Responsible Mature Youth: I realize this generalization does not apply to all of you, but sadly, those it does outnumber you.
Third: a lot of nannies are not actually nannies. They are people who either have kids of their own who prevent them from getting other jobs (which means they will want to bring their kids with them to work in your home, and I personally, do not think any mommi can honestly say they can put their own child's needs AFTER yours' - and if they could, would you want that sort of person caring for yours??), or who have no real employable skills, and figure anyone can babysit! Um, no.
Last: lots of nannies (and people in general) are just WEIRD. For example, I interviewed (well, almost) one girl who sounded great on paper - she wrote about family values in her cover letter, explaining how she'd been home schooled and helped raise her own siblings, how involved she was in her church, etcetera...but when she showed up for her interview, I opened the door to a man. Nono - she was not a he. It was her father. HE wanted to interview ME before deciding whether I could interview his daughter! Okay...points for being a VERY responsible parent...but I'm looking to employ an adult - and adults don't bring their dads with them to job interviews.
I posted my own Nanny Wanted ad, and got better results than just searching through "available" ads. Most candidates I weeded out due to typos or grammatical errors in their resumes (what?? One year old is when babies do a TONNE of language acquisition, and did I want my child exposed to double negatives, mispronunciations, slang, and worse offences: like people who say things like "I SEEN a kid the other day", "I should OF done that...", and so on??? If you do not know the answer to this question, you missed my post on my various Nazi-isms - grammar being one of them.), others because they failed to punctuate or capitalize, others because they didn't even have a resume, and more because they used "lol" in their emails, or seemed more concerned with the pay and hours than with any questions related to my child.
But I did eventually hire a nanny. Three nannies to be accurate. One is not worth mentioning, only because she was normal and didn't engage in any laugh-worthy antics. But the others...well...here you go!
GROSSEST NANNY EVER
This was the first nanny I hired. I believe she was employed for about 2 weeks. She had step children as experience, seemed very nice, and was a singer by trade (allegedly).
But she showed up late on the very first day - and most days after that, as well. Luckily, I had my nannies scheduled to arrive 30 minutes before I actually had to leave the house in order to be on time myself - but I needed that time to actually get ready for work and stuff (things that take way longer with an infant attached to your leg). I was paying her hourly, so I started recording her start and end times to the minute in effort to make a point. She did not get the point, though, and often showed up with a Tim Horton's coffee - further infuriating me, because that says to me: I'm not late because of things beyond my control; I assessed my timelines and decided getting myself a coffee was more important than being on time for work.
Additionally, she showed up dirty. It's not like I expected a nanny to be dressed up for work with a baby...but clothing that was not torn, stained, too short because the bottoms had been inexplicably worn off, or faded past the point of recognition and featuring Disney characters would have been nice. She wore running shoes with no socks, and then took them off in my house, and her toes were visibly dirty and unmanicured. It was horrendous. But I'll save the best (worst) for last...
This is not the worst, but she was also..."lacking in common sense". Here are two examples: 1. I came home unannounced at lunch one day because I had forgotten something. She was preparing some frozen organic vegetables as part of my son's lunch - good! But she was microwaving them, (I know - microwaving is questionable itself, but that wasn't my biggest objection) in a SEALED plastic container! Now, the plastic was BPA-free, of course, because I had purchased it, not her...but sealed?? I could see the lid bending and bubbling in the microwave. I asked her if it was sealed, just because I coudlnt' quite believe my eyes, and she said yes, not comprehending my horror. "Isn't it going to explode?" I asked. "It hasn't before," she replied. "But where is the steam supposed to escape to??" my panic was rising. "I don't know," she said. Then I heard a horrible pop as the lid broke off and vegetables splattered all over the inside of the microwave. Come on - for real? Who doesn't know that you have to remove the lid??? 2. My nannies had a different "Nap-Time Task" to complete while my child was sleeping - this is the difference between a nanny and a babysitter: nannies are responsible for light housekeeping, as well as child care, and are thus paid more (several applicants - and employees - had difficulty with this, even though it was clearly outlined in their contracts). One of these tasks was washing the floors. This duty was assigned once a week, and it was a small apartment with tile and hardwood floors. So, I was perplexed when the bottle of Pinesol I had purchased lasted only 2 weeks. Knowing this nanny was not the brightest, I had been careful to leave VERY specific instructions on how to complete each task: pick up rugs and shake outside, sweep floors, wash floors using mop and bucket in closet, and Pinesol under sink - including under furniture...but I had failed to tell her to DILUTE THE PINESOL WITH WATER. She was using it full-strength - half a bottle each time! WTF??? No wonder my house always smelled SO strongly of the stuff when I came home, and why the floors always failed to be shiny!
She also got in the habit of asking to be paid early. The arrangement was that she would be paid every Friday, but she often asked to be paid Thursday. I would agree, but would only pay her for the time worked up until that point - i wasn't about to PRE-pay for the work she may or may not do on Friday! She didn't understand this and took issue with it.
But here is the worst: a compilation of the worst, all rolled into one day, actually... The day began with her being late - no surprise. She asked if she could leave early that day because she was going to a singing competition at a local fall fair right after work. Whatever - I allowed myself an extra 30 minutes at the end of my day in case I needed to run errands or whatnot before I went home, so I could just go straight home that day and let her leave as soon as I got there. She had some hideous green once-bridesmaid dress I'm sure and a bag of other supplies with her, which should have been the first red flag - but of course, since she'd been late, I was in a rush to get to work so didn't give it much thought. When I got home, I heard my son crying before I even got in the house. I rushed in, and found him still in his crib in his room in the dark, having clearly awoken from his nap some time ago. Gross Nanny was in the bathroom, already in her crazy dress, spraying her hair with hairspray - my hairspray. I was aghast: was this woman honestly primping for her competition while ignoring my child - and being paid for it??? But before I even had a chance to say anything, she saw me, grabbed her stuff, and dashed for the door. She did say, "Oh - look who's up" when she noticed Avery in my arms in the hallway. And then she was gone. And I was FUMING. But it gets worse. I comforted my boy and got that situation under control, played for a bit, and then had to use the washroom. My hair brush was out on the counter, and I looked to find it filled with her nasty hair! I dropped it, shuddered, and moved to the toilet. There were streaks of (you think I'm going to say poo here, don't you? Well, that reminds me of the time I came home and did find just that - poo - on the toilet seat, the side of the bowl, on the floor, and on the wall - clearly the result of a diaper change gone wrong - and hey, it happens - but then you clean it up!!! But anyway, no: I'm not going to say poo...) BLOOD on the bowl! I backed up in disgust, crashing into the shower and putting my hand on the window ledge to steady myself, NARROWLY missing the greatest horror yet: a USED TAMPON, sitting on my window ledge!!! I had no choice but to stifle my gag reflex and dispose of it myself, then disinfect the toilet. Then I washed my hands, but when I went to dry them, I discovered a soaking wet towel - she had obviously taken a shower at my house, used one of my towels to dry her filthy self, shedding skin cells all over I'm sure, then just hung the towel back on the rack, where it might easily be used by myself or my child! So, so gross. And when did she have time to do all of this?? While poor Avery cried, alone in his room? While I paid her? I needed some air, so decided it was time Avery and Mommi headed out for a walk. And it was on that walk that I found, not the grossest, but the most upsetting offence of all: one of my son's "sleepies", soaked and filthy on the side of the road. That might not seem like such a big deal, especially after the rest of the crap she pulled that day...but those sleepies are Avery's most precious belongings - the things he loves more than anything, and depends on for security and comfort.
That was the last straw. Or maybe the tampon had been the worst straw already. But at that moment I realized that I needed to fire her immediately, despite having no backup childcare arranged for the next day. I would call in sick and stay home with my baby, using the time to find another nanny ASAP. And that is what I did. But first, I pussied out and took advantage of the fact that I knew Gross Nanny was at her stupid singing competition and unable to answer her home phone (did I mention she didn't own a cell phone? Who doesn't own a cell phone?? I had to have a phone line installed at my apartment just for her use, to ensure she could reach me in an emergency, due to her lack of a cell phone). I called and left a message saying that something had come up and I wouldn't need her the next day, but to check her email for further details. Then I fired her by email. The only problem was that this woman held a key to my home :s I decided to bribe her with money to return the key, but she never mailed it back like I had asked. For months, I lived in fear that she would one day show up and torch my place, but luckily it never happened, and even more luckily, I moved out of there soon after.
I hired another nanny the very next day...
ONE EXTREME TO THE OTHER NANNY
This nanny vastly improved mine and Avery's lives. For a while.
She was only 18, and I was skeptical...but she was punctual, dressed professionally, had been accepted into the Early Childhood Educator program for the next year at a local college, so clearly wanted to work with children, as opposed to just having no skills and being resigned to it, waqs fluent in French, and had work experience at a daycare centre. She was cute and enthusiastic and fantastic. I asked her to babysit for an hour that night, because I needed a sitter, and also to give her a chance to familiarize herself with the house (because Avery would already be in bed). All I asked her to do was to feel free to snoop through cupboards and get a feel for where things were. But when I got home, she had watered the plants, washed the windows, folded some clothes, and dusted the living room. She told me that she had gone in to check on my sleeping child every 20 minutes (okay, a little overkill - and I later had to school her in my Sleep Nazi ways, which involve NEVER risking waking a sleeping child - but anyway...) <3 <3 <3 LOVE <3 <3 <3
She took to Avery and he to her instantly, and was a perfect fit to our lives. She was often early for work and didn't expect to get paid for it. Oh - and did I mention she only wanted to be paid $40 a day??? I couldn't do that. I'm sure it breaks laws and is exploitation or child labour or something. So, I insisted on paying her more, for which she loved me - and I loved her. I'd come home to a clean house and a happy child every day. My son's language and vocabulary were developing and expanding, she did cute crafts with him and taught him adorable little songs. She bought him stylish fashion for gifts. Life was fantastic.
Until it wasn't. After a few months, she claimed to have hurt her back and was therefore unable to complete many of the housekeeping tasks. Alright. Then she wanted more money, and, while I was paying her more than she had originally asked, it was still pitifully little, so that wasn't totally unreasonable...but we had a contract, so no - not right now. But that was a mistake, because shortly after that she began seriously slacking. She'd be a little bit late, she'd be visibly unhappy, she started sleeping on the job - literally: I came home to hear my son crying in his room, and she was passed out beside a mop and bucket on the couch. She didn't wake up when I called her name, and so I sent the kid in there to shake her. She awoke, but seemed dazed and I started to worry about drug usage (or perhaps chemical inhalation due to sleeping next to a bucket of Pinesol (and water this time, though!)). A few days later, she told me she'd been offered another nannying position with more hours and better pay. I mistakenly thought this was an opening to discuss giving her a raise, but she had already decided, and despite having signed a one-year contract, she was taking the other job and wanted to start as soon as possible. I was furious! One, because she was just totally disregarding the contract she had signed - and there was very little I could do about it, given that any contract is only legally enforceable if you are willing to pay the money and take the time to go to court over it. Two, because this would mean yet another disruption in my poor little guy's life, and he really liked this nanny! Three, because these nannies really have you over a barrel: you can't force them to work if they are unhappy, because they are in charge of your children, and you can't risk them taking out their displeasure with you on the babies!
So, that was the end of that. I cut her loose earlier than she expected, only because I was angry with her, and was able to find another nanny who I actually knew personally quite quickly.
There was another nanny, and it was not a perfect fit, either, but not nearly as drama-filled as the other two had become. What I learned is that having a nanny can dramatically improve your quality of life...or make it absolute hell. And you often get what you pay for. We made it through that year with in-home nanny care, but now that my son attends daycare, I can say that good nannies are better than daycare providers - but bad ones are far worse than the worst daycare provider - at least the worst daycare provider in a licenced and regulated daycare centre. They're just held more accountable, so have to be better.
I stand by my decision to keep my son home until he was old enough to communicate, advocate for himself, and fend off illnesses better! But am very happy with our current daycare situation, and have already reserved a future spot for my unborn baby :)
I should note that One Extreme To The Other Nanny did make good of her promise to stay in touch with Avery, and my rage and hurt at her abandoning us dissipated with time. She's a good person, just young, and maybe not aware of how her decisions impact others, or that sometimes doing what doesn't seem to be best for YOU at the time, can really be the best overall... She'll learn :) And I think she's going to be great in her career in anything child-related.
That was a long one, and it was tiring reliving that nanny drama! Almost doesnt' seem real... Is anyone still reading at this point? ;)
Tuesday, 6 March 2012
Marketplace (Buy and Sell your Baby Items)
I'm not sure whether this will take off or not, but I've been thinking about adding a forum for buying and selling used baby items for a while, and today, another mommi contacted me because she is looking to sell her cloth diapers, so I figured now is the time! Also, I will become a Mommi Times Two in a couple months, and while I have a lot of things from the first time around, I'm in the market for a few new additions, too. So. I'm going to list my friend's cloth diapers below, and any followers can feel free to post their own ads, too. Just be sure to include contact info so interested parties can get ahold of you!
Important: Did you know...even if you do not have a Google Account, you can choose to give yourself a name when you make a post, rather than just selecting "Anonymous"? It won't link to an email address or anything, but it is helpful so that people can comment and have something to address you by :)
Important: Did you know...even if you do not have a Google Account, you can choose to give yourself a name when you make a post, rather than just selecting "Anonymous"? It won't link to an email address or anything, but it is helpful so that people can comment and have something to address you by :)
Tuesday, 21 February 2012
Tuesday, 7 February 2012
The Babymoon
There are many reasons to take a vacation when you're pregnant.
The first is that a vacation is good anytime....but you're more likely to get your way when you're pregnant, and when you can say "it's for the baby". If your Baby Daddy (husband, whatever...) tries to object, just complain about the physical symptoms you've been experiencing - first the nausea, the fatigue, the hormones, the back pain, and the physical toll growing a human is taking on you. Then, start to cry. Tell him you are concerned that the stress you've been under might in some way affect your fetus, so going away is really for the baby. And if he still says no, perhaps he should only ever be your Baby Daddy, and not someone you want to spend your life with, long-term. Same goes for if, when you manage to get away, he does not carry all of your bags and do everything for you. Oh, if you are not married, you can also use the tactic of threatening to give the baby your last name, not his. Just a suggestion ;) But seriously, I was starting to feel really heavy, and was body-sore at the end of each day. I'd been congested for the entire pregnancy. And I was getting fat. Going somewhere warm, if only for a few days, let me get rested and feel better, totally cleared up my congestion (that warm, humid air will do that for you), and how did it help the fatness? Well, any respectable Mommi should know that the quickest way to appear more toned and to minimize cellulite is to get a tan! (If you didn't know that, I'm surprised you enjoy my blog. But it's a good time you found me when you did - keep reading and I will attempt to dramatically improve your life.) Of course, I don't mean a REAL tan - at least not on your face - that would be unhealthy and could increase any melasma you might develop in your pregnancy :S I recommend getting an airbrushed tan before you leave, with an organic sugar-based solution, then wearing crazy sunscreen and a big hat the whole time you are away.
I'm using this as a second reason, but I suppose it relates to the first, in that it increases your overall sense of well-being: it's great to travel in the second trimester because, in the first you were too sick and tired, and in the third, you will once again be tired (but this time it will be because you are humongous) - and also, you're not supposed to fly that late in pregnancy, simply because planes take you too far away to get to your planned hospital, or wherever you plan to give birth, should you experience early labour. But in the second trimester, you should feel pretty good, and not be too fat. Granted, you will have quite a belly on you...but here is the thing: people expect you to have a belly - you're PREGNANT - and your belly will be hard and firm - it's impossible to get rolls! Seriously! You can sit anyway you like, without worrying, instead of making sure you are always leaning back on your elbows, so that belly fat rolls around to the back, and keeping your legs slightly bent, so that your thighs don't press against anything and look bigger. Actually, I take the last part back: I still recommend that legs slightly bent position - you're not carrying that baby in your thighs, afterall, are you? (Once again, if you did not know that that is the proper looking-good-in-a-bikini position, I am surprised you're still reading - but it's not too late! You can start practicing now.) And for many of us Mommis, the second trimester is one of the best boob times in your life. Work it.
A lot of the above, I have written tongue-in-cheek, but this part is actually important: I call a pregnancy vacation a Babymoon (I didn't invent the term, unfortunately), because it is one of the last opportunities you and the Daddi will have to spend quality time together, just the two of you, for quite some time. Once that baby gets there, life as you know it will be over. Second-timers like myself already know this, and yes, there are certainly ways to make sure you get a little grown-up time to yourselves post-baby...but getting away sure gets a heck of a lot trickier with a youngin' - or two - or more. It was hard being away from my little terrorist, so we only went for four days (also due to totally annoying factors like WORK COMMITMENTS and MONEY), and I had my mom get Avery on the phone for me several times, and text me daily updates so I'd know he was okay. But it was four days where the two of us could just relax, do whatever we wanted to (well, sort of: the area code rule does not exempt pregnant women from the usual restrictions like not drinking or smoking native herbs, I am sad to report), and really connect and enjoy one another's company. It was definitely good for our relationship, which will be a helpful boost when the baby comes, and our relationship is tested in terrible ways it has never been before. Veteran Mommis know what I'm talking about! Newbies...your day of reckoning is coming.
Our trip was great. We flew with WestJet out of Toronto, and stayed at the Iberostar Rose Hall Beach Report in Montego Bay, Jamaica. We chose Jamaica because of the climate at this time of year (Bahamas and Cuba would have been too iffy), the food and water safety (getting sick would be terrible - getting sick while pregnant would be worse, and dangerous to the fetus), and the decreased likelihood of getting murdered or having my baby cut out of my to be sold on the black market. Because I'm pregnant (and grandma-like), nightlife and excursions were not of great importance, while a great beach and pool area was. This resort really fit the bill.
Few notes:
*WestJet has more restrictions on flights to Montego Bay than any other route, for some reason. We had packed our things in just two carry-ons, hoping to avoid checking our luggage and potentially losing it (and wait times to claim it at the airport - we only had four days, afterall!), so had respected the rules about not taking liquids or aerosols of more than 100mL with us. We didn't bring sunscreen. Seems dumb, but this wasn't a stupid omission; it was a conscious decision - we would just buy some there. And we did...but we did not realize that the cheapest sunscreen available at the resort would cost $24 USD (or $1824, if you use crazy Jamaican currency)! And that was for some brand I had never heard of, and barely lasted us the trip - the usuals like Coppertone and stuff were upwards of $30. They also charged more for a higher SPF! And $8 for a bag of Cheetos. And because of the restrictions, we ended up having to check one of our bags, anyway, so could have taken our own too-big sunscreen with us afterall.
*It seems the Jamaican culture, or at least the people working at this resort - I don't want to generalize - feel that it is completely appropriate to yell "Hey, Baby Mama!", call you "Sexy Mama", and tell you that if you enjoy their drinks, your baby will love them more than its daddy. In Canada, we call this "sexual harassment". But you're on vacation! So, chill. And if you're pregnant, accept the fact that you can't do anything to conceal your extreme sexiness anyway :P
*I was concerned that we might be bored, because of my pregnancy-restrictions, like not being able to go on white water rafting excursions or on zipline tours. We were not. Lounging on the beach, a little kayaking, a snorkeling attempt, lots of eating kept us pleasantly occupied :) AND, there are some tours that are actually mandatory for pregnant women! (See photo and syntax error below - the English snob in me was on high alert this whole trip - grammatical errors abounded!)
Of course, the downside to taking any trip to a beautiful and tropical locale is your inevitable return to reality - and the wicked cold (that turned into a sinus infection for me), you will undoubtedly get, especially when pregnant, and your immune system is compromised :( But still: LOVED the Babymoon, love my Baby Daddy, and also .loved returning to my little guy at home. I highly recommend you try to take at least a mini-trip if you are pregnant and in your second trimester - or, actually, at any time, for any reason ;) Enjoy!
The first is that a vacation is good anytime....but you're more likely to get your way when you're pregnant, and when you can say "it's for the baby". If your Baby Daddy (husband, whatever...) tries to object, just complain about the physical symptoms you've been experiencing - first the nausea, the fatigue, the hormones, the back pain, and the physical toll growing a human is taking on you. Then, start to cry. Tell him you are concerned that the stress you've been under might in some way affect your fetus, so going away is really for the baby. And if he still says no, perhaps he should only ever be your Baby Daddy, and not someone you want to spend your life with, long-term. Same goes for if, when you manage to get away, he does not carry all of your bags and do everything for you. Oh, if you are not married, you can also use the tactic of threatening to give the baby your last name, not his. Just a suggestion ;) But seriously, I was starting to feel really heavy, and was body-sore at the end of each day. I'd been congested for the entire pregnancy. And I was getting fat. Going somewhere warm, if only for a few days, let me get rested and feel better, totally cleared up my congestion (that warm, humid air will do that for you), and how did it help the fatness? Well, any respectable Mommi should know that the quickest way to appear more toned and to minimize cellulite is to get a tan! (If you didn't know that, I'm surprised you enjoy my blog. But it's a good time you found me when you did - keep reading and I will attempt to dramatically improve your life.) Of course, I don't mean a REAL tan - at least not on your face - that would be unhealthy and could increase any melasma you might develop in your pregnancy :S I recommend getting an airbrushed tan before you leave, with an organic sugar-based solution, then wearing crazy sunscreen and a big hat the whole time you are away.
I'm using this as a second reason, but I suppose it relates to the first, in that it increases your overall sense of well-being: it's great to travel in the second trimester because, in the first you were too sick and tired, and in the third, you will once again be tired (but this time it will be because you are humongous) - and also, you're not supposed to fly that late in pregnancy, simply because planes take you too far away to get to your planned hospital, or wherever you plan to give birth, should you experience early labour. But in the second trimester, you should feel pretty good, and not be too fat. Granted, you will have quite a belly on you...but here is the thing: people expect you to have a belly - you're PREGNANT - and your belly will be hard and firm - it's impossible to get rolls! Seriously! You can sit anyway you like, without worrying, instead of making sure you are always leaning back on your elbows, so that belly fat rolls around to the back, and keeping your legs slightly bent, so that your thighs don't press against anything and look bigger. Actually, I take the last part back: I still recommend that legs slightly bent position - you're not carrying that baby in your thighs, afterall, are you? (Once again, if you did not know that that is the proper looking-good-in-a-bikini position, I am surprised you're still reading - but it's not too late! You can start practicing now.) And for many of us Mommis, the second trimester is one of the best boob times in your life. Work it.
A lot of the above, I have written tongue-in-cheek, but this part is actually important: I call a pregnancy vacation a Babymoon (I didn't invent the term, unfortunately), because it is one of the last opportunities you and the Daddi will have to spend quality time together, just the two of you, for quite some time. Once that baby gets there, life as you know it will be over. Second-timers like myself already know this, and yes, there are certainly ways to make sure you get a little grown-up time to yourselves post-baby...but getting away sure gets a heck of a lot trickier with a youngin' - or two - or more. It was hard being away from my little terrorist, so we only went for four days (also due to totally annoying factors like WORK COMMITMENTS and MONEY), and I had my mom get Avery on the phone for me several times, and text me daily updates so I'd know he was okay. But it was four days where the two of us could just relax, do whatever we wanted to (well, sort of: the area code rule does not exempt pregnant women from the usual restrictions like not drinking or smoking native herbs, I am sad to report), and really connect and enjoy one another's company. It was definitely good for our relationship, which will be a helpful boost when the baby comes, and our relationship is tested in terrible ways it has never been before. Veteran Mommis know what I'm talking about! Newbies...your day of reckoning is coming.
Our trip was great. We flew with WestJet out of Toronto, and stayed at the Iberostar Rose Hall Beach Report in Montego Bay, Jamaica. We chose Jamaica because of the climate at this time of year (Bahamas and Cuba would have been too iffy), the food and water safety (getting sick would be terrible - getting sick while pregnant would be worse, and dangerous to the fetus), and the decreased likelihood of getting murdered or having my baby cut out of my to be sold on the black market. Because I'm pregnant (and grandma-like), nightlife and excursions were not of great importance, while a great beach and pool area was. This resort really fit the bill.
Few notes:
*WestJet has more restrictions on flights to Montego Bay than any other route, for some reason. We had packed our things in just two carry-ons, hoping to avoid checking our luggage and potentially losing it (and wait times to claim it at the airport - we only had four days, afterall!), so had respected the rules about not taking liquids or aerosols of more than 100mL with us. We didn't bring sunscreen. Seems dumb, but this wasn't a stupid omission; it was a conscious decision - we would just buy some there. And we did...but we did not realize that the cheapest sunscreen available at the resort would cost $24 USD (or $1824, if you use crazy Jamaican currency)! And that was for some brand I had never heard of, and barely lasted us the trip - the usuals like Coppertone and stuff were upwards of $30. They also charged more for a higher SPF! And $8 for a bag of Cheetos. And because of the restrictions, we ended up having to check one of our bags, anyway, so could have taken our own too-big sunscreen with us afterall.
*It seems the Jamaican culture, or at least the people working at this resort - I don't want to generalize - feel that it is completely appropriate to yell "Hey, Baby Mama!", call you "Sexy Mama", and tell you that if you enjoy their drinks, your baby will love them more than its daddy. In Canada, we call this "sexual harassment". But you're on vacation! So, chill. And if you're pregnant, accept the fact that you can't do anything to conceal your extreme sexiness anyway :P
*I was concerned that we might be bored, because of my pregnancy-restrictions, like not being able to go on white water rafting excursions or on zipline tours. We were not. Lounging on the beach, a little kayaking, a snorkeling attempt, lots of eating kept us pleasantly occupied :) AND, there are some tours that are actually mandatory for pregnant women! (See photo and syntax error below - the English snob in me was on high alert this whole trip - grammatical errors abounded!)
Of course, the downside to taking any trip to a beautiful and tropical locale is your inevitable return to reality - and the wicked cold (that turned into a sinus infection for me), you will undoubtedly get, especially when pregnant, and your immune system is compromised :( But still: LOVED the Babymoon, love my Baby Daddy, and also .loved returning to my little guy at home. I highly recommend you try to take at least a mini-trip if you are pregnant and in your second trimester - or, actually, at any time, for any reason ;) Enjoy!
Thursday, 5 January 2012
Toddlers and Terrorists
My aesthetician told me a great joke today, while ripping hair off of my labia... What's the difference between toddlers and terrorists? You can negotiate with terrorists! HAHAHAHAHA. This totally applies to my own 2 year old, anyhow. My son is the most adorable little angel. A lot of the time. But he is also the Devil incarnate quite frequently, too. There is no in between: one extreme or the other, and he swaps between the two with lightening speed and lethal force.
Here are some of his angelic behaviours of late:
We had been planning on making a serious potty training effort over the Christmas holidays, just because I am off for two weeks, so have a greater opportunity to be consistent with him. But he had other plans! A couple weeks ago, on a Sunday, I was getting him dressed on the morning, and he simply said, "No diapey. Just underwear." I was nervous, but had heard that it's important for kids to be on board, so I thought, if it's HIS suggestion...and we went with it! We had a playdate that morning at Jungle Jam, which was less than ideal, but he was great! We packed a change of pants and underwear, and covered the carseat with a towel, made sure he peed just before we left, and then spent the rest of the day asking him if he had to pee every 5 minutes. He always replied "no", but every 45 minutes or so, we just took him to the bathroom anyway, and he went! NO ACCIDENTS!!! We still put a diaper on him for nap and nighttime, because he still often wakes up wet. My thought is that unconscious potty bladder control is actually a separate issue from potty training, and eventually, he will just start waking up dry, and then we will stop with the diapers for sleep. There have been a few accidents, but for the most part, he's made amazing progress. He has started actually telling me when he has to go. Getting him to pee in the potty at daycare was another matter. He would pee there for me, but not for his teachers. It took four days, but once he started there, he wouldn't stop :) We used fruit chews (the kind that are actually dried fruit, not fruit flavoured candy) as rewards. We experienced a big regression when he spent 24 hours with his dad :S He would still pee in the potty at home most of the time, but not at all at daycare for 5 whole days! But once he recovered, he managed to maintain his potty-prowess through his next daddy visit, and is a real pro now :) He still refuses to poo in the potty. But luckily, he also refuses to poo in his underwear, so he will suddenly demand a diaper, and then take care of business in it...in the pantry, for some reason :S. I'm not worried. I figure the same thing will happen as happened with peeing: one day he will just tell me he wants to poo in the potty, and we won't look back.
Other angelic behaviours include the singing of Christmas Carols. I particularly like when he sings "Elize Abiba" (Feliz Navidad). Also: freely telling me he loves me - including as I'm just about to leave his room after tucking him in, kissing my belly and talking to the baby, and trying to determine the gender of those around him. This began one day when he was in the bathroom with me, and asked, "Why Mama sit down a do pee pee?" I told him it was because Mommi doesn't have a penis: boys have penises, girls have vaginas. I'm a big proponent of using proper words for parts. But he misunderstood me, and said, "Mama have a Gina Penis." Sounds a bit too much like GIANT penis for my liking, but we'll work on it. It's funny now when he points to people in our company and asks me, "Cindy is a boy? Cindy have a penis?", and so on :D
But one major anti-christ-like behaviour of his swearing. And saying other inappropriate things. I will admit to dropping the occasional F-word or S-word - come on - who doesn't?? So it was inevitable that my little angle would repeat those two once in a while...but SOMEWHERE he has learned to use the, in sentences, and directed at people :S It began almost humourously. I picked him up from his dad's one day and noticed he had a scratch on his nose. I asked him where he got the scratch and he replied, "Um..fucking dumb cat scratched you" (he is working on his pronoun usage, but if you're c aught up on that, I think you're missing my point). Oh my. But kind of funny. I have never liked that cat... :P
You never forget your child's first words, the first time he tells you he loves you...or the first time he says "Fuck you , Mama!" That was lovely. We tried using the booster seat he now believes he is far too mature to need as a time-out chair. He'd sit in it and scream, "FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU, MAMA! FUCK YOU, JUSSIE!". And if we ignored him, he'd say, "I'm saying fuck you!", finally adding in a "This is BULLSHIT!" for good measure. I read somewhere that, for time-outs, your supposed to make the child sit somewhere without contact with you for 1 minute per year of age, so I turned my back on my screaming terrorist for 2 minutes, then went back and remind him he was in the baby chair because he had said bad words, had him apologize to me, then gave him a hug and a kiss and let him out. We had to repeat this procedure up to 20 times an hour at first, and by the end, he'd come up to me, put his hand on my arm and say, very earnestly, "Don't say fuck you." Umm...right. Sigh.
Things got worse when his daycare teacher pulled me aside one day when I came to pick him up, and told me that my little potty mouth had had to have a time out because he had smacked her on the butt and yelled "Tap that ass!" I had to accept the unfortunate truth that his swearing habit was starting to affect him outside our home. Worse still was when he pointed to the TV one evening, on which was a commercial for The Wiggles (adult men who wear bright outfits and sing and dance to children's songs), and exclaimed, "Oh! Fa....(I can't even get myself to finish typing the word. I was appalled)." Wait - was I unclear? He used the most offensive and derogatory term for homosexual I can think of.
Then there was the time in the car, on our way home from a visit with Daddy... I told Avery that I loved him, he said he loved me, too, then we launched into the game we often play: usually, I ask him who else he loves, and he lists off people. But this time he replied, "I love pussy" - [choke - gasp] WHAAT?? "I love pussy," he repeated. "You mean you love kitty cats, " I recovered. "I love fucking dumb cats," he countered. "Let's listen to music," I gave up, quickly switching on the radio. Sigh.
A few nasty emails between his father and I at least resulted in an agreeable disciplinary plan: we decided that ANY reaction was still giving the pint sized terrorist a reaction, and wasn't really helping. So, our newest tactic is to simply ignore him altogether when he swears or says other things that are offensive. It's working. Over Christmas, we had 2 good weeks of very minimal swearing. Then he had a relapse that lasted 2 days, but I think we're back on track... He has added a few new terms to his repertoire, like "douchebag"...and talks about poo a LOT...but still, compared to what we HAVE been dealing with, it's an improvement.
I will leave you with this image. Last weekend, we were snuggling in bed together one early morning, and Avery was being particularly darling, kissing and hugging my now-prominent baby bump. He will now tell people that Mommy has a baby in her belly (a blue baby, but whatever :s), and if you ask him what he's going to do with the baby when it comes out, he says, "Um...hug a baby...kiss a baby...snuggle 'ith a baby..." Very heartwarming. So, we're having this lovely moment, and I ask him if he wants to talk to the baby. He smiles and leans over, speaking directly into my belly button, and in the sweetest voice imaginable, he says..."Fuck you." [forehead slap (mine, not his)]
But Mommy loves you, you little terrorist from Heaven, you... <3
Here are some of his angelic behaviours of late:
We had been planning on making a serious potty training effort over the Christmas holidays, just because I am off for two weeks, so have a greater opportunity to be consistent with him. But he had other plans! A couple weeks ago, on a Sunday, I was getting him dressed on the morning, and he simply said, "No diapey. Just underwear." I was nervous, but had heard that it's important for kids to be on board, so I thought, if it's HIS suggestion...and we went with it! We had a playdate that morning at Jungle Jam, which was less than ideal, but he was great! We packed a change of pants and underwear, and covered the carseat with a towel, made sure he peed just before we left, and then spent the rest of the day asking him if he had to pee every 5 minutes. He always replied "no", but every 45 minutes or so, we just took him to the bathroom anyway, and he went! NO ACCIDENTS!!! We still put a diaper on him for nap and nighttime, because he still often wakes up wet. My thought is that unconscious potty bladder control is actually a separate issue from potty training, and eventually, he will just start waking up dry, and then we will stop with the diapers for sleep. There have been a few accidents, but for the most part, he's made amazing progress. He has started actually telling me when he has to go. Getting him to pee in the potty at daycare was another matter. He would pee there for me, but not for his teachers. It took four days, but once he started there, he wouldn't stop :) We used fruit chews (the kind that are actually dried fruit, not fruit flavoured candy) as rewards. We experienced a big regression when he spent 24 hours with his dad :S He would still pee in the potty at home most of the time, but not at all at daycare for 5 whole days! But once he recovered, he managed to maintain his potty-prowess through his next daddy visit, and is a real pro now :) He still refuses to poo in the potty. But luckily, he also refuses to poo in his underwear, so he will suddenly demand a diaper, and then take care of business in it...in the pantry, for some reason :S. I'm not worried. I figure the same thing will happen as happened with peeing: one day he will just tell me he wants to poo in the potty, and we won't look back.
Other angelic behaviours include the singing of Christmas Carols. I particularly like when he sings "Elize Abiba" (Feliz Navidad). Also: freely telling me he loves me - including as I'm just about to leave his room after tucking him in, kissing my belly and talking to the baby, and trying to determine the gender of those around him. This began one day when he was in the bathroom with me, and asked, "Why Mama sit down a do pee pee?" I told him it was because Mommi doesn't have a penis: boys have penises, girls have vaginas. I'm a big proponent of using proper words for parts. But he misunderstood me, and said, "Mama have a Gina Penis." Sounds a bit too much like GIANT penis for my liking, but we'll work on it. It's funny now when he points to people in our company and asks me, "Cindy is a boy? Cindy have a penis?", and so on :D
But one major anti-christ-like behaviour of his swearing. And saying other inappropriate things. I will admit to dropping the occasional F-word or S-word - come on - who doesn't?? So it was inevitable that my little angle would repeat those two once in a while...but SOMEWHERE he has learned to use the, in sentences, and directed at people :S It began almost humourously. I picked him up from his dad's one day and noticed he had a scratch on his nose. I asked him where he got the scratch and he replied, "Um..fucking dumb cat scratched you" (he is working on his pronoun usage, but if you're c aught up on that, I think you're missing my point). Oh my. But kind of funny. I have never liked that cat... :P
You never forget your child's first words, the first time he tells you he loves you...or the first time he says "Fuck you , Mama!" That was lovely. We tried using the booster seat he now believes he is far too mature to need as a time-out chair. He'd sit in it and scream, "FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU, MAMA! FUCK YOU, JUSSIE!". And if we ignored him, he'd say, "I'm saying fuck you!", finally adding in a "This is BULLSHIT!" for good measure. I read somewhere that, for time-outs, your supposed to make the child sit somewhere without contact with you for 1 minute per year of age, so I turned my back on my screaming terrorist for 2 minutes, then went back and remind him he was in the baby chair because he had said bad words, had him apologize to me, then gave him a hug and a kiss and let him out. We had to repeat this procedure up to 20 times an hour at first, and by the end, he'd come up to me, put his hand on my arm and say, very earnestly, "Don't say fuck you." Umm...right. Sigh.
Things got worse when his daycare teacher pulled me aside one day when I came to pick him up, and told me that my little potty mouth had had to have a time out because he had smacked her on the butt and yelled "Tap that ass!" I had to accept the unfortunate truth that his swearing habit was starting to affect him outside our home. Worse still was when he pointed to the TV one evening, on which was a commercial for The Wiggles (adult men who wear bright outfits and sing and dance to children's songs), and exclaimed, "Oh! Fa....(I can't even get myself to finish typing the word. I was appalled)." Wait - was I unclear? He used the most offensive and derogatory term for homosexual I can think of.
Then there was the time in the car, on our way home from a visit with Daddy... I told Avery that I loved him, he said he loved me, too, then we launched into the game we often play: usually, I ask him who else he loves, and he lists off people. But this time he replied, "I love pussy" - [choke - gasp] WHAAT?? "I love pussy," he repeated. "You mean you love kitty cats, " I recovered. "I love fucking dumb cats," he countered. "Let's listen to music," I gave up, quickly switching on the radio. Sigh.
A few nasty emails between his father and I at least resulted in an agreeable disciplinary plan: we decided that ANY reaction was still giving the pint sized terrorist a reaction, and wasn't really helping. So, our newest tactic is to simply ignore him altogether when he swears or says other things that are offensive. It's working. Over Christmas, we had 2 good weeks of very minimal swearing. Then he had a relapse that lasted 2 days, but I think we're back on track... He has added a few new terms to his repertoire, like "douchebag"...and talks about poo a LOT...but still, compared to what we HAVE been dealing with, it's an improvement.
I will leave you with this image. Last weekend, we were snuggling in bed together one early morning, and Avery was being particularly darling, kissing and hugging my now-prominent baby bump. He will now tell people that Mommy has a baby in her belly (a blue baby, but whatever :s), and if you ask him what he's going to do with the baby when it comes out, he says, "Um...hug a baby...kiss a baby...snuggle 'ith a baby..." Very heartwarming. So, we're having this lovely moment, and I ask him if he wants to talk to the baby. He smiles and leans over, speaking directly into my belly button, and in the sweetest voice imaginable, he says..."Fuck you." [forehead slap (mine, not his)]
But Mommy loves you, you little terrorist from Heaven, you... <3
Thursday, 1 December 2011
Because Kids Eat Stuff and Scrotums Bleed A Lot
Since babies and children are prone to eating non-food items, someone created Telehealth Ontario. Before I go on, save this number in your cell phone - or write it down somewhere if you haven't joined the age of technology (weird :s): 1 866 797 0000. I'm pretty sure other provinces (and states) have similar services, but you're going to have to look those numbers up yourself - hey, maybe comment on this post and share that info if you come across it! But anyhow, there are many reasons to call Telehealth, not all of them eating-related, but I would bet a lot of money on the fact that mommis make more of said calls to Telehealth than any other group, because mommis have kids, and kids eat stuff.
This morning, my 2 1/2 year old ate one of my prenatal vitamins. I know what you're thinking: who leaves a toddler unattended with drugs? But it's not like I had a bowl of them out on the coffee table. They were in a closed cardboard box, sealed in a blister pack, on the second shelf of our kitchen cabinet uppers! But toddlers are very resourceful, and you'd be amazed at what they can accomplish in the amount of time it takes you to fill a bowl of dog food (um, for the dog...not for the toddler - though he DOES enjoy kibble...but that is another post altogether). Anyhow, I was pretty sure there wasn't any harm in that - they're just vitamins, afterall - but I decided to call Telehealth on my way to work, just to be safe.
Telehealth is a free service. An operator takes your name and contact information, and records the nature of your call, and then has a Registered Nurse call you back about the issue. The operators are trained to redirect calls that are of an urgent nature. You don't need to have your healthcard with you - or even to have a health card at all. What you DO need to have with you, however, is the toddler you're calling about. Even though he had no symptoms, they won't assess your condition unless you are able to report on symptoms at that very moment. So, back to the daycare I drove. I called a coworker to tell her I'd be late for work - she kindly offered to cover my class.
The Telehealth nurse told me that most of the vitamins in a prenatal combo are water soluble, and therefore harmless, because the child will simply pee out any excess. But vitamin A and iron can be problematic, and since my prenatal vitamin is prescription strength (PregVit 5), she referred me to Poison Control. THAT was kind of scary! The Poison Control worker worked out how much vitamin A and iron my son could safely ingest, based on his weight: 300 000 IU of vitamin A, and 420mg of iron. I didn't have the product packaging with me, so had to call the pharmacy, but was relieved to discover that the one pill my son took only contained 700 IU of vitamin A and 35mg of iron - phew! It was also good that I was able to say with certainty that he only took one pill, since they were in the blister pack, and I could count how many were left.
But that's what Telehealth does - provides reassurance to freaked out mommis! I have called a number of times, and my concern has never been warranted, luckily - but if it was, they'd help me get the help I needed ASAP.
Here are some other reasons one might call Telehealth...
Sometimes babies eat poop. Gross, I know. But it happens! I don't remember how old my little guy was - maybe a few months - but during a particularly messy diaper change, he got his little hand down there, and into his mouth faster than I could stop him! I called Telehealth. It was embarrassing, but it's an anonymous service, so that's a relief ;) I remember them asking me to repeat myself, "Your son ate what, ma'am?" And then, "And was the feces (I said poop, they were much more professional) his own?" Yes!! What was she thinking?? But apparently there was reason to ask: I learned it is actually okay to eat your own feces, because it has bacteria that has already passed through your digestive system, and is therefore already present, whereas it is NOT okay to eat someone else's feces, and introduce new bacteria to your GI tract. You're making a mental note, aren't you?
Also, if your cat (or your partner's cat - because what NORMAL person owns a cat? Just kidding ;)) catches a claw through someone's scrotum, tearing a sizable hole in it, and you're not sure if he needs a Tetanus shot (cat OR scrotum owner) or stitches, you can call Telehealth to ask. They will be there to reassure you. Incidentally, if you are able to stop the bleeding and effectively disinfect the wound (I suggest getting the victim to hold his torn scrotum over the toilet, while you pour peroxide over it repeatedly), and get the skin to come together to heal...and then just watch for infection over the next few days, you probably do not need to go for stitches or a shot. But have you ever tried bandaging someone's scrotum?? Tough business. If you manage it, I recommend securing the area in the tightest available underwear for the night.
That is advice for everyone, not just mommis. I'd probably take my son right to emergency (and later take the cat right to the vet's for humane euthanasia) if such a thing occurred...but if it happens to an adult victim...I am less concerned. Still, call Telehealth!
Oh, and you can also call Telehealth for virus-like symptoms or if you're concerned about your child's fever...normal stuff!
Anyhow: CALL TELEHEALTH. Those are my words of wisdom for today :)
Anyone else ever have to call Telehealth for unusual reasons? Anyone have info on similar services in other areas? Please share!
This morning, my 2 1/2 year old ate one of my prenatal vitamins. I know what you're thinking: who leaves a toddler unattended with drugs? But it's not like I had a bowl of them out on the coffee table. They were in a closed cardboard box, sealed in a blister pack, on the second shelf of our kitchen cabinet uppers! But toddlers are very resourceful, and you'd be amazed at what they can accomplish in the amount of time it takes you to fill a bowl of dog food (um, for the dog...not for the toddler - though he DOES enjoy kibble...but that is another post altogether). Anyhow, I was pretty sure there wasn't any harm in that - they're just vitamins, afterall - but I decided to call Telehealth on my way to work, just to be safe.
Telehealth is a free service. An operator takes your name and contact information, and records the nature of your call, and then has a Registered Nurse call you back about the issue. The operators are trained to redirect calls that are of an urgent nature. You don't need to have your healthcard with you - or even to have a health card at all. What you DO need to have with you, however, is the toddler you're calling about. Even though he had no symptoms, they won't assess your condition unless you are able to report on symptoms at that very moment. So, back to the daycare I drove. I called a coworker to tell her I'd be late for work - she kindly offered to cover my class.
The Telehealth nurse told me that most of the vitamins in a prenatal combo are water soluble, and therefore harmless, because the child will simply pee out any excess. But vitamin A and iron can be problematic, and since my prenatal vitamin is prescription strength (PregVit 5), she referred me to Poison Control. THAT was kind of scary! The Poison Control worker worked out how much vitamin A and iron my son could safely ingest, based on his weight: 300 000 IU of vitamin A, and 420mg of iron. I didn't have the product packaging with me, so had to call the pharmacy, but was relieved to discover that the one pill my son took only contained 700 IU of vitamin A and 35mg of iron - phew! It was also good that I was able to say with certainty that he only took one pill, since they were in the blister pack, and I could count how many were left.
But that's what Telehealth does - provides reassurance to freaked out mommis! I have called a number of times, and my concern has never been warranted, luckily - but if it was, they'd help me get the help I needed ASAP.
Here are some other reasons one might call Telehealth...
Sometimes babies eat poop. Gross, I know. But it happens! I don't remember how old my little guy was - maybe a few months - but during a particularly messy diaper change, he got his little hand down there, and into his mouth faster than I could stop him! I called Telehealth. It was embarrassing, but it's an anonymous service, so that's a relief ;) I remember them asking me to repeat myself, "Your son ate what, ma'am?" And then, "And was the feces (I said poop, they were much more professional) his own?" Yes!! What was she thinking?? But apparently there was reason to ask: I learned it is actually okay to eat your own feces, because it has bacteria that has already passed through your digestive system, and is therefore already present, whereas it is NOT okay to eat someone else's feces, and introduce new bacteria to your GI tract. You're making a mental note, aren't you?
Also, if your cat (or your partner's cat - because what NORMAL person owns a cat? Just kidding ;)) catches a claw through someone's scrotum, tearing a sizable hole in it, and you're not sure if he needs a Tetanus shot (cat OR scrotum owner) or stitches, you can call Telehealth to ask. They will be there to reassure you. Incidentally, if you are able to stop the bleeding and effectively disinfect the wound (I suggest getting the victim to hold his torn scrotum over the toilet, while you pour peroxide over it repeatedly), and get the skin to come together to heal...and then just watch for infection over the next few days, you probably do not need to go for stitches or a shot. But have you ever tried bandaging someone's scrotum?? Tough business. If you manage it, I recommend securing the area in the tightest available underwear for the night.
That is advice for everyone, not just mommis. I'd probably take my son right to emergency (and later take the cat right to the vet's for humane euthanasia) if such a thing occurred...but if it happens to an adult victim...I am less concerned. Still, call Telehealth!
Oh, and you can also call Telehealth for virus-like symptoms or if you're concerned about your child's fever...normal stuff!
Anyhow: CALL TELEHEALTH. Those are my words of wisdom for today :)
Anyone else ever have to call Telehealth for unusual reasons? Anyone have info on similar services in other areas? Please share!
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