Anna Kate Donovan

…another trip to the pediatrician.  With all three girls.  By myself…..

I don’t know why these trips are so incredibly stressful for me.

That’s a lie.  I do know.  I am there to get information about my child’s health.  I am trying to give all the pertinent facts and answer all of the questions so that I can then listen to the doctor’s diagnosis and advice.  Is that asking too much?  Apparently my children think this a time to entertain the doctor.  I don’t think we’re on the same page….

Once Dr. M has entered the room and greeted the girls she turns to me and asks “What brings you in today?”.  My children see that as a golden opportunity to tell the story of their day/week/month/year.  Our current doctor is great (all of our pediatricians have been great, FYI).  She patiently listens to each of my daughters ramble on for a few minutes before subtly helping them wrap up their story.  The girls have gotten all of their important words out into the open so Dr. M. and I can finally start talking about why we are there.  Now the girls start to touch stuff.  Anything silver and shiny and off-limits.  Let me interject here and say that, in the grand scheme of things, my daughters are not being that bad.  They are not screaming, hitting, kicking, biting or disturbing other patients.  They are just disturbing my patience.  I know exactly what is going on.  They are at their doctor where we are talking about their issues and they want their attention.  I know that.  I understand that.  I have no problem with that.  It is very simple.  However, when I am sitting in that room trying to determine if my child needs to be referred to an ENT about her ear issues, I tend to forget that principle.

I have yet to completely “lose it” at the doctor’s office.  Somehow in the presence of a health professional, I can muster the fortitude to hold in my frustration.  I wish I could do that all the time.  As I said before, I am not talking about serious misbehavior – they are just being the curious, talkative little girls that they are.  So why do I have such a problem?  I think it has to do with my belief that the doctor’s time is precious.  I know how fortunate I am to have good health insurance and the ability to get the health care my family needs.  I am very aware of how many others are in the waiting room also needing to be seen.  I don’t want to be the person who takes up valuable time with meaningless chit-chat.  But I digress….

The most tedious trips are the last minute ones when someone is in need of an ear check or strep test or what have you.  That happened today.  But I survived.  I even managed to pick up medicine on the way home.  Did I mention that Laura didn’t have a nap?  Did I forget to tell you that Robert is out of town?  HA HA HA HA.  BRING IT ON!

The girls are in bed, there’s chocolate in the kitchen and my alma mater is about to kick off in the BCS National Championship.  Life is good.

It’s official.  I don’t have a baby any more.

Laura turns 3 today and has now exited babyhood.  She is not a toddler either – she stopped “toddling” almost 2 years ago.  I guess she falls in the generic category of “child”.  I must say though, that the word “child” doesn’t seem complicated enough to encompass Laura’s current state of being.

She is at a point where she is mastering the potty.  She knows where her pajamas are kept.  She recognizes her favorite songs within the first few notes.  She can tell you what is wrong, what she wants and that she loves you.  When she says I love you, she says it so sincerely that it will melt you in an instant.  She is developing quite a sense of humor.  Her favorite saying of late is “buckle up Buttercup” from a cruise advertisement.  She says it all the time just to get a laugh.  She also knows what the rules are and when she is breaking them.  Just a few days ago, she swiped my cell phone from the counter and ran off to hide in her room.  By the time my father called to tell me about his conversation with her, she had not only called him but also my brother and father-in-law.  Twice.  I walked into her room to retrieve my phone and she said “Go away, Mommy, I’m talking!”  Did I mention sassy?

We are blessed with 3 very intelligent, goofy, kind, silly, beautiful girls and we are thankful for them every day.  That being said, most days are like roller coasters.  Guess we’d better buckle up!

I’ve always thought that “gamers” were people who played Dungeons and Dragons or belonged to role-playing clubs.  Now I’m not so sure.

I’ve always loved games.  I played card games with my parents from an early age.  Puzzles and board games too.  As I’ve gotten older, I have started enjoying crosswords, logic puzzles, sudoku, etc.  Almost every evening after the girls are in bed, I collapse on the sofa with the dog and my laptop and start my daily fix of “puzzling”.  That would usually include a couple of online crosswords and sudoku.  Perfectly harmless, right?

When Abigail started kindergarten a few years ago, she began learning about computers in school.  We decided that she deserved to have supervised computer time at home as well.  We let her have 30 minutes each day once any homework was finished and we found a number of good sites for her to choose from.  Now that Hattie has begun school, she has 30 minutes each day as well.

The girls tend to play dress-up, make-up and cooking games.  Abigail is starting to enjoy less juvenile games like the original Mario, etc.  A couple of weeks ago, she discovered a game called Woobies.  The point is to “rescue” some furry little creatures before they are crushed.  It sounds barbaric but it couldn’t be more innocent.  Unfortunately, she showed it to me and I tried it.

I am shamelessly hooked.  I can’t wait to get done with whatever I’m doing so I can have a few moments to play another level on my laptop.  Plus I can’t seem to win so that adds fuel to the fire. In my defense, all of my books, sewing and scrap booking supplies are in boxes in the mini warehouse for a few more months.  All of my hobbies are packed away leaving me only the laptop to occupy idle time.

Then a few days ago, a friend recommended the game “Typing Maniac” on Facebook. I’ve never been a highly competitve person but this has opened the flood gates.

I guess I’ve answered my own question.  I have become a gamer.  Is that bad?  😉

Don’t recognize the name?  Martin Handford is the creator of the ever-popular Where’s Waldo? series.  These books are fabulous.  If you don’t know about Where’s Waldo?, it is a series of books about a world traveler.  In each two page scene, the reader must find Waldo and a bevy of other items.  In one book you are looking for Waldo, his entourage of friends and his dog.  In another, you are looking for a tiny book Waldo has dropped.  In another, you must find all of Waldo’s equipment that he has lost.  Each scene is meticulously drawn and has thousands of minute details.

The beauty of these books is in the target demographics.  They are great for everyone.  Laura (2) loves to find all the mermaids in the underwater scenes.  Hattie (5) looks for Waldo and moves on.  Abigail (8) wants to find everything on the list of things you are supposed to find.  Robert and I find enjoyment in all of the crazy things Handford has included in the drawing.

It seems that it is getting more and more difficult to find activities that everyone enjoys.  Especially on a rainy day when we can’t go outside.  The chances of all 5 of us wanting to watch the same movie or play the same game together aren’t great.  With 2 of our children unable to read fluently, our options are limited even further.  Where’s Waldo? bridges the gap.  There is no reading required but you still have to use your brain.

I have loved these books since they came out in the early 1990s.  There is also a series of I Spy books that are similar but they lack the story that goes along with Waldo and his travels.  Every time you look at a Waldo book, you will find things you’ve never seen before even if this is the 100th trip through the book.  This is one of the few things that will stay on our shelves as other toys and books come and go.  A rare find indeed!

There are a lot of things I wish I could do well.  One of them is to play tennis.  Every year, I watch the grand slam events almost obsessively.  This obsession started in high school.  Two of my best friends are great tennis players and I loved to watch them play.

Currently, I am watching the US Open.  I just watched Melanie Oudin lose to Caroline Wozniacki.  The talent of these teenagers is nothing short of awesome.  They are unbelievably good and between the two of them, they have taken out many of the top seeded players in the first week of the tournament.

The only other sport I watch this intently is college football.  Alabama football to be exact.  But I have absolutely no desire to play football.  Tennis, on the other hand, looks fun.  I think I might be able to play doubles if I were a little more flexible.  And coordinated.  And quick on my feet.  And in shape.  And owned a racket….

For now, I am happy to live vicariously through my television as I watch athletes half my age duke it out on center court.  What’s my excuse?  I have 3 little girls age 8 and under.  That’s got to be harder than tennis!

It was 3:42 this morning.  Laura had pulled her “reverse Houdini” routine.  That is, she had crept into our room, climbed into the bed, snuggled down under the covers and fallen asleep.  I slept right through that part as usual.

At exactly 3:42 she sat up and screamed “in the living room!” at the top of her lungs.  It came out “in da yivin woom” but I understood exactly what she said.  Pardon me, screamed.  Right…in…my…ear.  Apparently she was arguing with someone in her dream and needed to get her point across.  As soon as she closed her mouth, she collapsed back into the pillow and returned to her dream.  I’m not exactly sure why but I started laughing.  I guess it was a natural reaction to release pent up anxiety from being scared out of my skin.  My guffawing woke Laura from her vivid dream.  She was NOT happy.  So that left Robert in shock from being jerked out of a deep sleep, me laughing uncontrollably and Laura fussing at me saying “it’s NOT funny, Mama!”

Of course, my mind then wandered back about 11 hours to yesterday afternoon.  I was inside finishing my book and Robert had taken the girls down to the lake.  As soon as I was done reading, I went outside to join them.  Laura came running up to tell me about a frog she had held.  Her favorite part?  “Mama, he pee on me!”  That got a huge laugh from me so Laura spent the rest of the afternoon yelling “he pee on me!  dat fwog pee on me!” and making me laugh.

There I was.  3:42AM  Laughing my ass off at the peeing frog who is supposed to be in the “yivin woom!”  No wonder I am exhausted….

Nothing surprises me any more.  Wait, that’s not true.  “Octomom” surprised the heck out of me.  Did she forget that she already had EIGHT children?  But that’s beside the point. The point is that in the course of my life, I have been through so much that it takes a lot to really surprise me.

Take the last 15 minutes, for instance.

Robert was on the porch reading his book.  I was in the kitchen putting dinner together.  The girls were all watching a movie.

I got dinner in the oven and came in the living room to sit down with the girls for a few minutes.  Laura was standing by my purse trying to be invisible.  I said “what are you doing Laura?”  and she made the face.  The “I’m doing something I know I’m not supposed to be doing but maybe you won’t notice” face.  She had found a peppermint buried in the bottom of my purse.  She had taken it out of the wrapper, licked it and tried unsuccessfully to put it back.  More than once.  Judging by the stickiness of the mint, she had done this many, many times.  The mint was covered in lint and random crumbs from the bottom of my use-it-for-everything purse.  YUCK.

Was I surprised?  Nope.  Disgusted?  Yep.

Just another page in the book of ways to strengthen your child’s immune system…

Laura didn’t have her regular nap yesterday.  The afternoon was not pleasant.

The mistake I made was trying to run an errand with her just before lunch.  I know better.  But I needed to go to the post office.  I was hoping to go by myself.  Of course Laura spotted me grabbing my purse and promptly asked “where we goin’, Mommy?”  Usually I would explain that she’s staying home with Daddy and he would distract her while I sneak out but Robert has a bad sinus infection so I didn’t want to put him through that.  Off we went to the post office.  Once our package was in the mail we headed home.  Less than 2 blocks later, Laura was asleep.

We got home and I tried to move her from the van to the car but since I spent an extra 5 minutes talking to my friend on the phone, Laura’s brain was convinced that she’d already had her nap and more sleeping would just be a waste of valuable playtime.  That was totally my fault.  How dare I try to have an adult conversation?  Who cares if we have no cell signal in our apartment?  The nerve!

Needless to say, the move from the van to her bed didn’t go as planned.  After 30 minutes of unsuccessful soothing and rocking, I gave up.  I knew exactly how the rest of the day would go…but I gave up anyway.

Nothing was right for Laura after that.  Her sisters touched everything she didn’t want them to touch.  The dog tried to take a nap on her blankie.  She didn’t want to come inside when it was time to come inside.  She didn’t want to leave her handfuls of dirt and sticks outside.  The dog looked at her funny.  She didn’t want a banana for snack much less juice.  The dog ignored her.  There was no happiness for Laura.

At 4:45, she fell asleep…on the sofa…in the living room…I decided to leave her in hopes that she would wake in a different mood.

At 6:00 we were serving dinner and Laura began to rouse.  I was thinking – great, she’s had a little rest so now we can enjoy dinner and the rest of the evening.  Boy was I wrong.  The word grumpy doesn’t begin to do her mood justice.  Dinner was not what she wanted.  She wasn’t ready to put on her pajamas.  We weren’t watching what she wanted to watch on TV.  She wanted something to drink but didn’t want anything we offered.  This went on and on and on and on……

Eventually it was time for bed and to my surprise, she went willingly.  She was asleep within seconds.  As I stood in the doorway listening to her breathe, I was overcome with love for this little girl.  Despite the difficult hours just prior to this moment, I was reminded that she is a sweet, caring, imaginative and smart child.  We’ve all had bad days more than we’d like to admit.  That’s all this was.  A bad day for Laura.  Besides, she’s absolutely adorable when she sleeps!!  😉

Yes, I realize that none of these pictures are from her bed.  Once she’s asleep in her own bed I wouldn’t dare wake her with the flash! 🙂

If you read my earlier post “What was I thinking?” you know that I do not like arcades.  They are loud, chaotic and stressful for me.  I don’t have an explanation why it stresses me out, it just does.  I don’t like letting my kids run around like wild animals in public either so that makes it worse.  Plus, my two children under age 6 need to be accompanied so I have no choice but to enter the den of chaos.

I know the reason for putting an arcade in a family restaurant.  The kids pump quarters in the machines ad nauseum while the parents eat their dinner.  It is a stellar idea.

SO, one time when Robert was out of town (of course he was – these things only happen when he is out of town), Hattie was invited to a birthday party at the big pizza place in town.  The arcade at this particular pizza place doubles as the party room.  Yippee!  With Robert gone, I attended the party with all three girls in tow.  We got there and greeted the birthday boy and were immediately seated for our pizza dinner.

I have never seen children gobble down pepperoni so fast.  Even Hattie, who takes a half hour to eat a spoonful of rice one grain at a time, finished her pizza at a Guinness record pace.  Within minutes, all of the children have choked down their dinner and are chomping at the bit to get their tokens and hit the slots.  Abigail is old enough to be on her own so I gave her some tokens and she headed off.  Hattie is still a little uncoordinated and can’t read yet so she needs my help.  Laura just wants to run from game to game and screech.  Yea!

Hattie made her first game choice and was able to manage it with minimal instruction.  I set off to pull Laura away from dominating the driving game and I hear Hattie yell “Mom, I WON!”  Laura and I go dashing over to Hattie and sure enough, she has hit the jackpot.  I am watching the game tally the score when I realize that Hattie is already on to game #2.  The first game starts spitting out tickets and I hear “Mom, I WON AGAIN!”  I turn to see that game start churning out tickets and Hattie is running to the 3rd game.  But the 1st game is still barfing out tickets in a pile at my feet!  And, oh no, WHERE IS LAURA???

Luckily, this arcade is designed so that the door back into the restaurant is not easily noticed by toddlers so Laura was not far.  Also, lucky for me, this was a birthday party with lots of moms.  It only took one look at my harried face for other moms at the party to come to my rescue.

In the end, Abigail won 48 tickets.  With those she “bought” 3 pieces of gum and a neon eraser.  Hattie, the uncoordinated child, won 576 tickets in less than 30 minutes.  She bought 5 pieces of candy and a parachuting Dora that promptly broke in the car on the way home.  Gotta love it….

I don’t get Bratz.  I don’t understand why people buy these dolls for their daughters.  Why would you want to idolize the epitome of what we don’t want our children to become?  Or am I the only one who doesn’t want her daughters to be spoiled brats in inappropriate outfits?

Barbies and Polly Pockets don’t bother me.  Does that make me a hypocrite?  Maybe.  My girls have a lot of both Barbies and Pollies.  That being said, we do not purchase all of the clothes and accessories that are available for these dolls.  If my girls want a house for their dolls, they have to build one out of Legos or shoe boxes or use the dollhouse that my parents built for me when I was 5.  I certainly don’t buy any of the outfits that look like they belong in a strip club…and believe me, I could if I wanted to!

When Abigail started 1st grade I was forced to accept that things aren’t the same now as they were when I was in 1st grade.  When I was seven I paid no attention whatsoever to what my friends were wearing.  Okay, that’s a lie.  I secretly coveted my best friend’s purple New Edition t-shirt.  But that’s it.  I had no idea about brands or fashions or the cost of clothes and neither did anyone else in my class.  It wasn’t an issue until I was in the 6th grade.  Even then it was forced on me by other girls in my school.  Looking back, it was wonderful to be truly innocent during elementary school.  I had plenty to occupy my mind just being a child.  Now stores are selling low rise jeans and skimpy panties for elementary aged girls.  Many stores don’t even offer “regular” children’s clothes.  It’s all just the junior department in tiny sizes.  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m not suggesting that children can’t be fashion forward or that they should wear smocked dresses or sweatpants every day.  I just don’t think they should be dressed like tiny adults.  I also don’t want my daughters to dress in an overtly sexual way at age 16 much less at age 8.  Am I the only one who thinks that these trends are sending the wrong messages?  Then there are the moms who try to hold on to their youth by dressing like 18 year olds.  As my favorite duo, Stacy and Clinton from What Not to Wear say, “18 year olds always win!”  But I digress….

I don’t think parents realize what they are setting themselves up for.  Little girls should have the chance to be little girls.  There is no reason to make age 13 come any quicker than it already does.  It will come fast enough!

My mother-in-law gave me a great book for Christmas about raising girls in the current era of advertising.  I will admit that I haven’t finished the book but what I have read so far intrigues me.  As parents in 2009, we face a whole new set of challenges that didn’t even exist when we were children.  There are entire marketing campaigns targeting young children.  If you’ve ever watched Saturday morning cartoons (there aren’t that many to choose from these days!) with your children, you have probably noticed that the majority of the air time is dominated by commercials.  Commercials for crap.  “All you ever wanted in its own storage tub for $19.99!  Call now and we’ll double your order!”  Great.  Double crap.  Fabulous!!

I know I’ve written a lot lately about my ideals of raising children – girls in particular.  Please do not get the wrong idea.  I am merely expressing my thoughts.  I am not going to judge you if you don’t agree with me.  This is my opinion, nothing more.  I am not a nominee for mother-of-the-year and I never will be.  I make a lot of mistakes.  We all do.  But it’s my job to give my children the best chance to succeed in life.  And I don’t think missing the Bratz boat will hurt them one little bit!