Heads up everyone...
I officially moved my blog
http://kimmelin.wordpress.com/
Fresh look, fresh site - Kimmelin
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
This just might be the best Thursday in my entire life!
Note to reader: please indulge me by imagining me jumping up and down on a couch while screaming, screeching and hollering the following:
I could have kissed the UPS man, had he not scurried off in such a hurry after dropping the brown, cardboard package on my doorstep this morning...knocking twice, as always, as if the contents of that particular package, on this particular day, were not extraordinary and precious as gold. I could have kissed my publisher too, for speed delivering the book to me this week. Amazingly enough, I managed enough self control to WAIT TO OPEN THE PACKAGE until I could drive to my husband's office, and open it up with him. My kids, meanwhile, couldn't understand why Mommy kept jumping about and using an outside voice, inside the house, about the package in my hands.
I have come to realize, in the life of a writer, there are a few key moments that are simply incomparable to any other life event: 1) the first time your work is accepted by an editor and you see your name in print. 2) the first time you land a book publication deal. 3) the first time you receive a copy of your completed book.
I will keep you all posted on when/how/where you can order your own copy of A Dozen Invisible Pieces. Watch for another post tomorrow for the scoop...
Today, life feels just a little bit like Shangri La...
MY BOOK IS HERE!!!
I could have kissed the UPS man, had he not scurried off in such a hurry after dropping the brown, cardboard package on my doorstep this morning...knocking twice, as always, as if the contents of that particular package, on this particular day, were not extraordinary and precious as gold. I could have kissed my publisher too, for speed delivering the book to me this week. Amazingly enough, I managed enough self control to WAIT TO OPEN THE PACKAGE until I could drive to my husband's office, and open it up with him. My kids, meanwhile, couldn't understand why Mommy kept jumping about and using an outside voice, inside the house, about the package in my hands.
I have come to realize, in the life of a writer, there are a few key moments that are simply incomparable to any other life event: 1) the first time your work is accepted by an editor and you see your name in print. 2) the first time you land a book publication deal. 3) the first time you receive a copy of your completed book.
I will keep you all posted on when/how/where you can order your own copy of A Dozen Invisible Pieces. Watch for another post tomorrow for the scoop...
Today, life feels just a little bit like Shangri La...
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Depression Confession
I suffered from it. Twice. Once after a pregnancy. And another time during pregnancy.
Pregnancy related depression, pregnancy related mood disorder, postpartum depression, prenatal depression...call it what you like. It's horrible, no matter what title you stick on it.
My first bout of pregnancy related depression was shortly after the birth of our first son. I quickly grew to hate life. I hated getting out of bed in the morning. I hated being around other people. To say it felt like there was a thick, dark cloud hanging over me would have been an understatement. I went days without showering. I didn't smile. Couldn't laugh. I found no joy in being with my children--even the newborn I ought to have been devouring with love. Life held no pleasure for me. I didn't cry all that much. I wasn't exactly sad. I was just empty. Emotionless. Dry inside.
The next time was during my third and final pregnancy. The same sense of overwhelming confusion and inability to function normally, crept in mid way through the pregnancy. This time it was because of my sudden discontinuation of the medication I had been on since my previous bout with PPD. I didn't want to "hurt the baby" by taking the medication. So I went off it. Two weeks later I had stopped eating and drinking; I was unable to care for my current two children.
Each time, I bounced back fairly quickly--with a combination of medication and counseling. I'm still on the medication today, now almost two years after the birth of our third child.
I ran out of my medication for a few days, a couple weeks ago. I just kept forgetting to get to the pharmacy and pick up a new prescription. Granted, things are pretty stressful right now--with the upcoming launch of my book, and all. Not to mention life with three young children. And a winter that feels life it will NEVER end (it snowed another 4" here, just yesterday)...but I started to spiral downward pretty quickly.
I am one of those few women who will probably never be able to function without antidepressant medication. This confession might come against great scrutiny. But like a diabetic without insulin, I am not able to function properly--properly meaning, caring for my children adequately,and handling life's common stressors without falling apart--without medication. For me, depression is a medical condition that was exacerbated by pregnancy. And I hate it. I hate being dependent upon something artificial that I have to put into my body once a day. But, the alternative is worse. It is unsafe and unacceptable.
Katherine Stone does a great job highlighting current issues revolving around pregnancy related mood disorders. To find out about the bills in congress that will hopefully increase funding and support for research into causes of and treatments for pregnancy related mood disorders, follow this link.
For more information on pregnancy related depression, check out this resource.
Pregnancy related depression, pregnancy related mood disorder, postpartum depression, prenatal depression...call it what you like. It's horrible, no matter what title you stick on it.
My first bout of pregnancy related depression was shortly after the birth of our first son. I quickly grew to hate life. I hated getting out of bed in the morning. I hated being around other people. To say it felt like there was a thick, dark cloud hanging over me would have been an understatement. I went days without showering. I didn't smile. Couldn't laugh. I found no joy in being with my children--even the newborn I ought to have been devouring with love. Life held no pleasure for me. I didn't cry all that much. I wasn't exactly sad. I was just empty. Emotionless. Dry inside.
The next time was during my third and final pregnancy. The same sense of overwhelming confusion and inability to function normally, crept in mid way through the pregnancy. This time it was because of my sudden discontinuation of the medication I had been on since my previous bout with PPD. I didn't want to "hurt the baby" by taking the medication. So I went off it. Two weeks later I had stopped eating and drinking; I was unable to care for my current two children.
Each time, I bounced back fairly quickly--with a combination of medication and counseling. I'm still on the medication today, now almost two years after the birth of our third child.
I ran out of my medication for a few days, a couple weeks ago. I just kept forgetting to get to the pharmacy and pick up a new prescription. Granted, things are pretty stressful right now--with the upcoming launch of my book, and all. Not to mention life with three young children. And a winter that feels life it will NEVER end (it snowed another 4" here, just yesterday)...but I started to spiral downward pretty quickly.
I am one of those few women who will probably never be able to function without antidepressant medication. This confession might come against great scrutiny. But like a diabetic without insulin, I am not able to function properly--properly meaning, caring for my children adequately,and handling life's common stressors without falling apart--without medication. For me, depression is a medical condition that was exacerbated by pregnancy. And I hate it. I hate being dependent upon something artificial that I have to put into my body once a day. But, the alternative is worse. It is unsafe and unacceptable.
Katherine Stone does a great job highlighting current issues revolving around pregnancy related mood disorders. To find out about the bills in congress that will hopefully increase funding and support for research into causes of and treatments for pregnancy related mood disorders, follow this link.
For more information on pregnancy related depression, check out this resource.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
"Oh, if I only knew then what I know now."
I had the wonderful opportunity to meet with a group of women tonight at our local Stroller Strides -hosted Luna Moms Club Mom's Night Out. Also, aside from the normal amount of interaction with new moms I am blessed with through my work, I have had a couple of dear friends recently give birth and so I am bathing in the proverbial enjoyment of nurturing and celebrating with women in this terrifically emotional time of life. As I have sat with, emailed with, and talked via telephone with women from all walks of life, in a variety of geographical locations, and enduring different stages of New Mommyhood, I have found myself again and again reflecting on my own transitions into first motherhood, twice motherhood and thrice motherhood. And the same words keep reverberating through my head with each reflection, "Oh, if I only knew then what I know now."
While every different stage of Motherhood is tough stuff, making that initial transition from Free Spirit Woman Who Can Sleep in on Saturday Mornings If She Wants To....to....Awake Every Two to Three Hours During the Night With Bags Under Her Eyes, Yet Crazy In Love With Her New Baby...seems to be the hardest.
It's not just coming to terms with the fact that, "once that baby makes his or her entrance into your world, you are responsible for the well being of another person in some way for the rest of your life," that makes the transition...enormous...it's the worry, anxiety, questions, confusions, process of trial and error, self-doubt and doubt of the validity of one's own parental instincts that makes the transition what it is. And as I watch friends, students and new acquaintances struggle with night time sleep issues, feeding issues, discipline issues, and balancing act issues, I want so much to give them all just a little bit of that magical ingredient I seem to be slowly developing as I make my own transition from New Mom to Seasoned Mom: relaxation.
I'm not saying I am a totally laid back mom all the time...or even most of the time. Ask my husband, and he'll tell you, I am an emotional zero to sixty kinda' gal. One of my favorite places to be is on top of a soap box. But I've learned to go with the flow a little more as each day, week and year of parenthood passes. I am better able to disengage from the screaming tantrum antics of our three-year-old son and the, "my hair isn't cooperating!!!" antics of our five-year-old daughter with nary a rise in my blood pressure. Sometimes. But I don't find myself doubting my core capabilities as a mom like I used to. And I do seem to finally trust in the concept that tomorrow will be another day, and with it comes a new opportunity.
When our eldest was a colicky infant, I couldn't see past the next hour, let alone trust in the opportunity that a new day would bring. But those days are long gone now, (long enough gone to refer to them with a touch of nostalgia) and now the best I can do is offer the moms who are newer at this stuff than I am the encouragement that, "you will get through this. You will sleep again. You will figure out how to comfort her crying. You will find yourself again."
Cheers to all the mothers out there, new and not-so-new. Keep up the good work!
While every different stage of Motherhood is tough stuff, making that initial transition from Free Spirit Woman Who Can Sleep in on Saturday Mornings If She Wants To....to....Awake Every Two to Three Hours During the Night With Bags Under Her Eyes, Yet Crazy In Love With Her New Baby...seems to be the hardest.
It's not just coming to terms with the fact that, "once that baby makes his or her entrance into your world, you are responsible for the well being of another person in some way for the rest of your life," that makes the transition...enormous...it's the worry, anxiety, questions, confusions, process of trial and error, self-doubt and doubt of the validity of one's own parental instincts that makes the transition what it is. And as I watch friends, students and new acquaintances struggle with night time sleep issues, feeding issues, discipline issues, and balancing act issues, I want so much to give them all just a little bit of that magical ingredient I seem to be slowly developing as I make my own transition from New Mom to Seasoned Mom: relaxation.
I'm not saying I am a totally laid back mom all the time...or even most of the time. Ask my husband, and he'll tell you, I am an emotional zero to sixty kinda' gal. One of my favorite places to be is on top of a soap box. But I've learned to go with the flow a little more as each day, week and year of parenthood passes. I am better able to disengage from the screaming tantrum antics of our three-year-old son and the, "my hair isn't cooperating!!!" antics of our five-year-old daughter with nary a rise in my blood pressure. Sometimes. But I don't find myself doubting my core capabilities as a mom like I used to. And I do seem to finally trust in the concept that tomorrow will be another day, and with it comes a new opportunity.
When our eldest was a colicky infant, I couldn't see past the next hour, let alone trust in the opportunity that a new day would bring. But those days are long gone now, (long enough gone to refer to them with a touch of nostalgia) and now the best I can do is offer the moms who are newer at this stuff than I am the encouragement that, "you will get through this. You will sleep again. You will figure out how to comfort her crying. You will find yourself again."
Cheers to all the mothers out there, new and not-so-new. Keep up the good work!
Monday, April 14, 2008
Celebration of Motherhood
As Mother's Day approaches, I can't help but spend some time thinking about my own journey as a mom, and the journey of all the women who came before me. The attached video is a tribute to those women...and all women who struggle with, and find triumph in their own journey through Motherhood.
Enjoy~
Enjoy~
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Gotta' Love It
I know I don't have to tell any of you mom readers out there, but the difficult early years of raising young children is...um...difficult. And while griping and moaning about cleaning poop out of the carpet, refereeing squabbles, and fixing dinners that no one will like, with the remaining three ingredients in your pantry, serves its own VERY IMPORTANT purpose, we DO have to once in a while celebrate those moments that really keep us going.
Like this morning.
Now, I will start by saying that the inevitable ramification of children being raised by a childbirth educator is that they learn about having babies much sooner than other kids. You just can't expect young children to not take interest in the baby dolls, pelvis models and posters that mom hauls around with her to and from class. And I still call myself proud to know that my children know the correct terms for vagina and penis...there are no hoo-hoos or wee-wees in our household!
As we were getting ready to leave for preschool this morning, five-year-old Ellie was toting her doll around, cradling Baby Alice in her arms, telling me how "newborn babies like to be held this way," and confessing that, "I just had her yesterday. I walked around a lot and worked really hard to have her come out of my vagina." She made me promise her I would "give her baby mommy's milk" while she was gone to school, in case her baby got hungry. Oops. Baby Alice is still out in the car...
Anyway, now driving into town to make it to my dermatologist appointment before preschool drop off, all three kids in tow, Ellie wondered aloud what babies drink while they're inside their mommies' tummies. "There's a kind of water in there called amniotic fluid," I responded as matter-of-fact as always. "Oh," Ellie replied as content as always with my matter-of-fact answers.
"Is there any sharks in there?" Landon wanted to know of the water in a mommy's tummy. It was, after all, a legitimate concern. How would a baby stay safe in his mommy's tummy if the intrauterine environment was also inhabited by a Great White?
Once in the dermatologist's exam room, my kids were excited about the "big blue dress" I got to wear for my exam. "It's just a paper gown," I explained. "It makes it easier for the doctor to look at my skin." I was, after all, feeling quite gleeful that the doctor was only going to be looking at my skin. For me, going to the doctor in the past few years has usually involved a paper gown, a set of stirrups and a very cold instrument.
As the doctor looked me over, the kids intently eying her, and me, Ellie stood up on the exam table step. She began poking and prodding at my arms and chest in quick succession after the doctor. "This is a big one," she pointed out of the mole on my chest.
"Thanks for noticing that, Honey."
This, of course, comes on the tale of an incident two days ago during which I found three-year-old Landon hitting his twenty-month-old baby brother with a plastic golf club. "Landon, we don't hit people with golf clubs!" I hollered, swiping the club from his grasp. "Why would you think that's ok to do?"
"Because, I thought he was a golf course," Landon replied with as much innocence as he could muster.
I'm fairly sure my sister did exponentially more horrid things to me growing up and I, along with my own sometimes frazzled mom both survived. This is the stuff that makes life rich, right?
So I will continue to record these priceless moments. Who knows...maybe there's another book out there, just waiting for me to write!
What was YOUR favorite silly kid moment this week?
Like this morning.
Now, I will start by saying that the inevitable ramification of children being raised by a childbirth educator is that they learn about having babies much sooner than other kids. You just can't expect young children to not take interest in the baby dolls, pelvis models and posters that mom hauls around with her to and from class. And I still call myself proud to know that my children know the correct terms for vagina and penis...there are no hoo-hoos or wee-wees in our household!
As we were getting ready to leave for preschool this morning, five-year-old Ellie was toting her doll around, cradling Baby Alice in her arms, telling me how "newborn babies like to be held this way," and confessing that, "I just had her yesterday. I walked around a lot and worked really hard to have her come out of my vagina." She made me promise her I would "give her baby mommy's milk" while she was gone to school, in case her baby got hungry. Oops. Baby Alice is still out in the car...
Anyway, now driving into town to make it to my dermatologist appointment before preschool drop off, all three kids in tow, Ellie wondered aloud what babies drink while they're inside their mommies' tummies. "There's a kind of water in there called amniotic fluid," I responded as matter-of-fact as always. "Oh," Ellie replied as content as always with my matter-of-fact answers.
"Is there any sharks in there?" Landon wanted to know of the water in a mommy's tummy. It was, after all, a legitimate concern. How would a baby stay safe in his mommy's tummy if the intrauterine environment was also inhabited by a Great White?
Once in the dermatologist's exam room, my kids were excited about the "big blue dress" I got to wear for my exam. "It's just a paper gown," I explained. "It makes it easier for the doctor to look at my skin." I was, after all, feeling quite gleeful that the doctor was only going to be looking at my skin. For me, going to the doctor in the past few years has usually involved a paper gown, a set of stirrups and a very cold instrument.
As the doctor looked me over, the kids intently eying her, and me, Ellie stood up on the exam table step. She began poking and prodding at my arms and chest in quick succession after the doctor. "This is a big one," she pointed out of the mole on my chest.
"Thanks for noticing that, Honey."
This, of course, comes on the tale of an incident two days ago during which I found three-year-old Landon hitting his twenty-month-old baby brother with a plastic golf club. "Landon, we don't hit people with golf clubs!" I hollered, swiping the club from his grasp. "Why would you think that's ok to do?"
"Because, I thought he was a golf course," Landon replied with as much innocence as he could muster.
I'm fairly sure my sister did exponentially more horrid things to me growing up and I, along with my own sometimes frazzled mom both survived. This is the stuff that makes life rich, right?
So I will continue to record these priceless moments. Who knows...maybe there's another book out there, just waiting for me to write!
What was YOUR favorite silly kid moment this week?
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
With Thanks
Ok, Tera Luedde, I just have to tell you publicly that YOU ARE THE BOMB! For the rest of you, who have absolutely NO IDEA what I'm talking about, read this excerpt from an email Tera just sent out to 300 friends, colleagues, students, neighbors, playgroup parents...etc., etc.:
I couldn't have asked for a greater vote of confidence.
And while I'm at it, Tera's not the only one turning the tides on this book. Andrew, Liz, Mom...your support in helping me get this book out there has gone far and beyond what "devotion" can accurately describe. The depth of my thanks is unlimited.
Now, I will stop before I embarrass myself, or anyone else. But really, truly. THANK YOU.
"One of my very best friends, Kimmelin Hull whom I met when I lived in Pittsburgh, PA, has done what most of us only dream about. She has written an amazing book/memoir about her life as a stay-at-home mother of three children under the age of 5.
I was honored and had the pleasure of being able to read her manuscript a few months ago. It is absolutely BRILLIANT! First of all, I was shocked, because when the manuscript arrived in the mail I opened it and read the letter Kimmelin enclosed asking that I read it. I almost fell over. How could one of my very best friends write a book and not even tell anyone she was writing it while being a mother to 3 children under the age of 5? How in the world did she have the time, energy, and brain cells to do it? Needless to say, that next day while flying to Seattle for work I read the entire manuscript. I laughed out loud, cried, and was in awe of my friend. (the guy next to me in the plane asked if I was "OK" since I was laughing and crying, and I told him I was reading one of the best books ever written.)
And while I'm at it, Tera's not the only one turning the tides on this book. Andrew, Liz, Mom...your support in helping me get this book out there has gone far and beyond what "devotion" can accurately describe. The depth of my thanks is unlimited.
Now, I will stop before I embarrass myself, or anyone else. But really, truly. THANK YOU.
Blogg...Her?
So, I've spent the last few days exploring the world of blogging moms. It's a big world. All you have to do is look at the All Top list of the hottest (ok, most popular) mom blogs out there...and you've automatically got over 200 hundred to chose from. Blogs with names like Cheaper Than Therapy, Whiskey in My Sippey Cup, Suburban Oblivion, and Mamalogues. Wow. I'm suddenly having this strange experience...like I'm back in college again, facing sorority rush week, and wondering... hoping...I'll get accepted somewhere! And worse yet, while I hate to even admit this...this whole concept of maintaining a blog is really quite new to me.
Despite the fact I'm married to a software industry marketing guru, I'm really a pretty low tech. person. I did, after all, only become compelled to take the plunge and replace our family's 17" television crammed comfortably into the corner of the living room, with a 32" flat panel this past Christmas. Even at that, we only get two tv stations...one of which is PBS.
So grasping the enormity of the blogging world...especially the mom blogging world...has been a leap for me. But I think I'm starting to get it. What my mom, my grandmother, and generations of women before them, wouldn't have done to have such a freely accessible outlet to vent, celebrate, confess, and question their sojourns through life with kids in tow!
It's fascinating to scan through the seemingly endless list of mom blogs, absorbing the tone of voice...each woman's shtick(is that how you spell it?)...and realize that while the words, stories, gimmicks, and conversations may be unique to each blogger on each day...the overriding dialog is quite the same. Women are communicators. Any of us who took (endured) pre-marital classes or counseling sessions with our soon-to-be mate knows this. Those personality tests you can pay hundreds of dollars for a professional to interpret? They'll eventually get down to this bottom line too: women have got something to say, dammit. We need to talk, and we need to be heard.
The journey through Motherhood, whether nursing a previously entered career path, inventing a new one, or tending to our children full time without those other "distractions", we all need a venue to process our experience of this thing called Motherhood.
And so here I am, a thirty-five-year-old Montana mom of three young children with a business to run, a book to promote, and a new hobby to further distract me from the ever enlarging pile of laundry hidden behind a closed door.
I'm not sure if I'm worthy of admittance into the sorority of the mothers' blogosphere. But, I'm ok with it, even if not. I didn't exactly fit into the sorority I joined, either.
P.S. - I think this blog needs a new, blog-mom-worthy name. Any suggestions? (Please try to avoid sending suggestions such as, "This Blog Totally Sucks." Cut a girl a break, will ya'?
Despite the fact I'm married to a software industry marketing guru, I'm really a pretty low tech. person. I did, after all, only become compelled to take the plunge and replace our family's 17" television crammed comfortably into the corner of the living room, with a 32" flat panel this past Christmas. Even at that, we only get two tv stations...one of which is PBS.
So grasping the enormity of the blogging world...especially the mom blogging world...has been a leap for me. But I think I'm starting to get it. What my mom, my grandmother, and generations of women before them, wouldn't have done to have such a freely accessible outlet to vent, celebrate, confess, and question their sojourns through life with kids in tow!
It's fascinating to scan through the seemingly endless list of mom blogs, absorbing the tone of voice...each woman's shtick(is that how you spell it?)...and realize that while the words, stories, gimmicks, and conversations may be unique to each blogger on each day...the overriding dialog is quite the same. Women are communicators. Any of us who took (endured) pre-marital classes or counseling sessions with our soon-to-be mate knows this. Those personality tests you can pay hundreds of dollars for a professional to interpret? They'll eventually get down to this bottom line too: women have got something to say, dammit. We need to talk, and we need to be heard.
The journey through Motherhood, whether nursing a previously entered career path, inventing a new one, or tending to our children full time without those other "distractions", we all need a venue to process our experience of this thing called Motherhood.
And so here I am, a thirty-five-year-old Montana mom of three young children with a business to run, a book to promote, and a new hobby to further distract me from the ever enlarging pile of laundry hidden behind a closed door.
I'm not sure if I'm worthy of admittance into the sorority of the mothers' blogosphere. But, I'm ok with it, even if not. I didn't exactly fit into the sorority I joined, either.
P.S. - I think this blog needs a new, blog-mom-worthy name. Any suggestions? (Please try to avoid sending suggestions such as, "This Blog Totally Sucks." Cut a girl a break, will ya'?
Monday, April 7, 2008
Nightlife
So, here I am at yet another coffee shop, having completed yet another round of approvals on my book. But this time, it really is the last time.
Moments ago, I hit the "send" button that delivered my approval of A Dozen Invisible Pieces in its entirety to my publisher. I should see a hard copy of the book in a little over a week. My heart is pounding.
There have been many moments along the way when the reality of this book has become more and more evident. I discuss this in an interview with my (extraordinary) editor, Ashley Shelby, segments of which are availble on YouTube as well as my website. It really is daunting and exciting all at the same time. And yes, I have had plenty of moments during which I ask myself, "what do you think you're doing?"
But, as I sit here in the moments after hitting that "send" button, and watch the activity around me...activity that so DOES NOT comprise my day-to-day life anymore (the couple across from me, obviously on a first date... the group of five women to my right, holding their monthly book club meeting...the college student to my left in his ragged knit hat, plugged into his ipod...supposedly studying...) I realize that while the world around me has continued with its own version of normality, of some semblance of a regular routine, my routine, for the past two years, anyway, has been all about getting to this moment; about pushing that "send" button that officially releases this story I have felt compelled to share, into the world.
So there you go. It's on its way.
Moments ago, I hit the "send" button that delivered my approval of A Dozen Invisible Pieces in its entirety to my publisher. I should see a hard copy of the book in a little over a week. My heart is pounding.
There have been many moments along the way when the reality of this book has become more and more evident. I discuss this in an interview with my (extraordinary) editor, Ashley Shelby, segments of which are availble on YouTube as well as my website. It really is daunting and exciting all at the same time. And yes, I have had plenty of moments during which I ask myself, "what do you think you're doing?"
But, as I sit here in the moments after hitting that "send" button, and watch the activity around me...activity that so DOES NOT comprise my day-to-day life anymore (the couple across from me, obviously on a first date... the group of five women to my right, holding their monthly book club meeting...the college student to my left in his ragged knit hat, plugged into his ipod...supposedly studying...) I realize that while the world around me has continued with its own version of normality, of some semblance of a regular routine, my routine, for the past two years, anyway, has been all about getting to this moment; about pushing that "send" button that officially releases this story I have felt compelled to share, into the world.
So there you go. It's on its way.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Pee, Poop, Cough, Snort, Book
In case you can't decipher from the title of this posting, it's been a rather stressful week (or two).
Similar to Ellie at three-and-a-half-years-old, Landon is suffering a significant potty training regression. It started with a GI bug that dis-enabled his already irritable intestinal tract, once again, from maintaining control over his bowel movements....thus, having to be placed in the shower at his preschool on more than one occasion following the "accidents" that occurred well after the virus itself had cleared. Since then, while it is clear he has regained control of both his peeing and pooping, now he seems to be relieving himself whenever and wherever he wishes (on the carpeted floor, two feet outside the bathroom door, on the couch at preschool...) just for the heck of it.
As I amply describe in A Dozen Invisible Pieces, my kids are exceptionally good at feeding off my stress levels. As I come nearer to the launch of the book, and Andrew continues to drive the marketing and promotional efforts behind the launch, I have become increasingly anxious, tired and plain-old worn out. Awaiting the opportunity to view, and sign off on the final back cover design on the book, I am days away from getting an actual fully printed and bound version of my book. The wait is agonizing. So, between my own demeanor, and the stress adopted by my children, it's no wonder my kids continue to find new and more creative ways to challenge my authority, and that we've all ended up with colds.
Landon, however, doesn't get off scott-free with just a runny nose. No, when he picks up a cold, he does so with gusto. In January, the run-of-the-mill cold the rest of us acquired, and promptly fought off, resulted in his first bout of pneumonia. This week, we thought we were on the same track with him once again, but it ended up only being his fourth ear infection in the past year, and an asthmatic flare-up requiring more oral prednisone and frequent nebulizations which collectively wire him beyond the energy levels typical of other boys his age.
After teaching a two-hour Lamaze class Thursday night through a sore throat and headache, I hurded Gabriel with me the next morning into a meeting with a woman at Bozeman's Parent Place, to discuss the planning of my up-coming book launch event at the Bozeman Public Library, scheduled for May 17th, 10:00am. The meeting went great. Gabe found a wooden slide that he LOVED in the Parent Place play area, and I came away re-energized about the book release.
Then, it was time to retrieve the older kids from school. For more on this...read the next post.
Aaahhh, the life of a stay-at-home mom/author/business owner! For more stories of otherwww.rolemommy.com women managing this crazy kind of lifestyle, check out:
Similar to Ellie at three-and-a-half-years-old, Landon is suffering a significant potty training regression. It started with a GI bug that dis-enabled his already irritable intestinal tract, once again, from maintaining control over his bowel movements....thus, having to be placed in the shower at his preschool on more than one occasion following the "accidents" that occurred well after the virus itself had cleared. Since then, while it is clear he has regained control of both his peeing and pooping, now he seems to be relieving himself whenever and wherever he wishes (on the carpeted floor, two feet outside the bathroom door, on the couch at preschool...) just for the heck of it.
As I amply describe in A Dozen Invisible Pieces, my kids are exceptionally good at feeding off my stress levels. As I come nearer to the launch of the book, and Andrew continues to drive the marketing and promotional efforts behind the launch, I have become increasingly anxious, tired and plain-old worn out. Awaiting the opportunity to view, and sign off on the final back cover design on the book, I am days away from getting an actual fully printed and bound version of my book. The wait is agonizing. So, between my own demeanor, and the stress adopted by my children, it's no wonder my kids continue to find new and more creative ways to challenge my authority, and that we've all ended up with colds.
Landon, however, doesn't get off scott-free with just a runny nose. No, when he picks up a cold, he does so with gusto. In January, the run-of-the-mill cold the rest of us acquired, and promptly fought off, resulted in his first bout of pneumonia. This week, we thought we were on the same track with him once again, but it ended up only being his fourth ear infection in the past year, and an asthmatic flare-up requiring more oral prednisone and frequent nebulizations which collectively wire him beyond the energy levels typical of other boys his age.
After teaching a two-hour Lamaze class Thursday night through a sore throat and headache, I hurded Gabriel with me the next morning into a meeting with a woman at Bozeman's Parent Place, to discuss the planning of my up-coming book launch event at the Bozeman Public Library, scheduled for May 17th, 10:00am. The meeting went great. Gabe found a wooden slide that he LOVED in the Parent Place play area, and I came away re-energized about the book release.
Then, it was time to retrieve the older kids from school. For more on this...read the next post.
Aaahhh, the life of a stay-at-home mom/author/business owner! For more stories of otherwww.rolemommy.com women managing this crazy kind of lifestyle, check out:
Preschool Reprimand
I've heard friends with older children describe it: the horror of being the parent that gets pulled aside during after school pick up, and "talked to" by the teacher. My children--two out of the three--are only in preschool. Nonetheless, it's already happening.
My kids are smart. Considering their ages--the older two, that is--they are pretty compassionate and well mannered. This is what I had been told by other people, until recently.
"We had a couple incidents with P-U-D-D-L-E-S," the preschool teacher spelled out for me yesterday, referring to more of Landon's pee accidents that have now become common place at school. Two weeks ago, he'd purposely dropped his pants in the nap room and peed all over the couch. "And this one," indicating Ellie with a nod of the head, "had a small -A-C-C-I-D-E-N-T, and then stripped herself N-A-K-E-D in the bathroom where I found her crying hysterically because she didn't have a spare pair of underwear to put on." The teacher, whom I am generally enamored with due to her skill and tenderness toward our children, proceeded to describe how she had to coax Ellie out of her rapidly spiraling melt down, and back into the classroom where the other children were waiting to start a new lesson.
When Ellie and Landon first started attending their new preschool, after having been yanked without warning from their old preschool due to an incident I described in my January Montana Parent article: Choosing Childcare Wisely, it was generally warm, glowing reports on how my children had done each day. Ellie whizzed through the lessons, Landon hugged the teachers freely and played nicely with the other kids. Now, I'm almost dreading the drop-off, pick-up procedures...wondering what will be next. My friend Katherine sends her daughter to the same preschool. Apparently the teacher was scheduled to call her this morning to discuss some dynamic of concern occurring between her daughter and Ellie. Perhaps this will be on the docket for next week's rendezvous.
My children--all three of them, including 20-month-old Gabriel who is still generally quiet and compliant (plus he's one heck of a Mama's boy) really are great kids. They're just smart enough to know how to, incredibly effectively, test the waters...and the allegiance of their care takers. I should know; they test me every day.
My kids are smart. Considering their ages--the older two, that is--they are pretty compassionate and well mannered. This is what I had been told by other people, until recently.
"We had a couple incidents with P-U-D-D-L-E-S," the preschool teacher spelled out for me yesterday, referring to more of Landon's pee accidents that have now become common place at school. Two weeks ago, he'd purposely dropped his pants in the nap room and peed all over the couch. "And this one," indicating Ellie with a nod of the head, "had a small -A-C-C-I-D-E-N-T, and then stripped herself N-A-K-E-D in the bathroom where I found her crying hysterically because she didn't have a spare pair of underwear to put on." The teacher, whom I am generally enamored with due to her skill and tenderness toward our children, proceeded to describe how she had to coax Ellie out of her rapidly spiraling melt down, and back into the classroom where the other children were waiting to start a new lesson.
When Ellie and Landon first started attending their new preschool, after having been yanked without warning from their old preschool due to an incident I described in my January Montana Parent article: Choosing Childcare Wisely, it was generally warm, glowing reports on how my children had done each day. Ellie whizzed through the lessons, Landon hugged the teachers freely and played nicely with the other kids. Now, I'm almost dreading the drop-off, pick-up procedures...wondering what will be next. My friend Katherine sends her daughter to the same preschool. Apparently the teacher was scheduled to call her this morning to discuss some dynamic of concern occurring between her daughter and Ellie. Perhaps this will be on the docket for next week's rendezvous.
My children--all three of them, including 20-month-old Gabriel who is still generally quiet and compliant (plus he's one heck of a Mama's boy) really are great kids. They're just smart enough to know how to, incredibly effectively, test the waters...and the allegiance of their care takers. I should know; they test me every day.
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