More cute M vocab:
too-toos (tissues)
gih-gap (giraffe)
da-da (MaDear) (who she pretends to talk to on the telephone)
She loves pretending to talk on the phone. And serving “tea.” And putting her babies to bed. And singing old McDonald, and songs of her own devising.
And she knows all her colors…!
The upshot of M’s elbow is, we were walking home from daycare and I had her by the hand, and in my other hand, a huge pile of stuff. She laid down in the middle of the street. So I picked her straight up by the arm… and felt the little pop. She screamed all the way home. It took us until Saturday morning to figure out it was her elbow. At the time I freaked out that I had broken my child’s arm or at least sprained her wrist. ~Guilt~
So, nursemaid’s elbow is a pretty minor outcome of that, and as other moms have said… what were you supposed to do? Still, I’m haunted by the pop.
Mamala said, “We all lose our cool sometimes.” ‘Thing is, I wasn’t even mad, though I was in a hurry and frustrated in that moment. I didn’t yank. Yanking is a no-no with nursemaid’s elbow. We learned that with C. But still… ugh.
Today I was in the kitchen and noticed that I hadn’t seen M for a while (both girls are home sick). I finally found her in the bathroom, messing around with the pooper scooper and the cat box, with the scoop dangerously close to her mouth. I said, “Nonononono!!!” and whisked her away. She bawled. Again I felt bad. She was trying to help; she’d watched Daddy do it earlier today. A simple but firm redirect would have sufficed. Oh well.
Consider this the divine miss M confessional post.
12 Responses to “more divine miss m adventures”
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» I’m looking for some new online reading materials–blogs, zines, whatever. Creative yet accessible, inspiring but not schmaltzy, smart but not impenetrable. Recommendations welcome.
» The latest on SBJ: at one year, he weighs 30.5 pounds (99%), is 32 inches tall (97%) and is 100% cute.
» I have been remiss in posting SBJ’s latest stats: 23 pounds and 27 inches at six months. Yes, I’ve got the big mama biceps.
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Frankly, I would shout nononononono if even my cat was contemplating snacking off the pooper scooper, (and we all know what they do with their mouths right in front of us), so no guilt coming this way.
My sister’s two boys are prone to nursemaid’s elbow. They’ve both dislocated elbows at least twice, just playing on the floor with their parents, taking off jackets, other stuff. They (the parents) are grateful for an understanding pediatrician who recognizes that they’re not abusive parents…
Our ped actually said that cases of nursemaid’s elbow seem to come in waves. Which is pretty strange if true. At any rate, nobody said Boo to us about it.
So, if M didn’t have an elbow problem, would you have even thought twice about the things you did?
I didn’t think so.
So you were just plain reactionary-at least you were keeping her safe. When the kid’s about to eat cat poop, or is playing in traffic, you’re not gonna think through the “proper parenting manual” of how to calmly explain why that’s not appropriate.
You’re a great mom, you love your kids, ‘nuf said.
Good point.
No harm no foul on the cat box thing. She’ll be fine. Reflecting on it later, I just realized that I was experiencing a textbook example from the parenting class I took. They talked about how it’s important to figure out why a kid is doing what she is doing. She wasn’t misbehaving. She wanted to help. So how could I have given her the chance to help without allowing her to ingest cat feces? That is the question!
Ah, parenting classes are always about the ideal, aren’t they? But I do wish I hadn’t flown off the handle in quite the way I did and would like to work on this. (I had a teacher in high school describe me as “volatile,” and he meant it as a positive and a negative.)
In talking to other parents, I’ve decided that impulsive toddlers bring out impulsiveness in their grownups.
Dadgum Mommy guilt! I struggle with it all the time. With two 4-year-olds I sometimes feel like the only words that come out of my mouth are tied to “No” or “Stop that.” Sometimes when I go to bed at night I think about all the ways I could have/should have reacted to my children. The good news is that as they get a little older, I seem to be a little better able to handle much of the chaos. That and they both still seem to know how much they are loved. Thank God for grace!
Oh. There’s little worse than the guilt of the arm lift. Like when Little Listing collapses on a filthy floor and I just can’t tell her “no” in a reasonable tone one more time.
She gets over it quickly.
I do not.
]*
I suspect that the only possible conclusion to draw from all this is that actually, my friend, you are human - and human parents do stuff sometimes that they beat themselves up with for years after the child has completely recovered, forgotten and moved on…
Just yesterday AM my little boy, who is just a few months younger than M, ran into the street when cars were coming. I was terrified and screaming. I had already told him several times to stay away from the street, and my naughty little charmer ran out there anyway (he is the one I have to stay on 24-hour safety patrol with). He was laughing, I think he thought it was a game. Thank God, the cars (which were coming from both directions) saw him (or heard me bellowing) in plenty of time and stopped so I could run out and get him. I am not a spanker, but I swear only the presence of those drivers peering through their windshields and my fear of them using a cell phone to call CPS stopped me from whacking him. I am still shaken up about it. I think those are the moments as parents when we are most likely to lose it - when we realize how quickly something could happen that would harm them. YIKES! Glad that M is better - here’s to many years of safety patrol ahead for both of us. Wait til you see how many ways a little boy will come up with to scare you!
Wait…I didn’t raise you to be the perfect mom at all times…oh, where did I fail?
yipes! Sore elbow and cat poop, not the best combo. Doesn’t seem to be the kind of stuff she’ll be in therapy for years to get over. I’ve screamed “nooooooooooo” so often at babygirl that now when she starts to do something I don’t want her to do she turns to me and says “I’m doing it, so don’t tell me no!” It doesn’t bode well for the teenage years!
Little miss M is such a delight , curious and with a love of life. Seems like she will try all kinds of things and have many adventures, as well as, probably, misadventures. I am guessing her mother was a little like that!