Yep, you guessed right, to yours truly.
What happened? Well, let me start from the beginning. My husband has a friend, who I suspect doesn't like me. I don't particularly care since my interactions with this person are very limited and I admit that the entire thing could be in my head. But this friend just had a baby, and we were invited to the celebration and religious ceremony. Since the invitation came less than a week before the event and I was under a tight deadline at work, I had to get a gift last minute (I actually tried to get it beforehand, but that's another story). I spent about 45 minutes trying to pick a perfect toy, all the while saying to the baby I have never seen, "Just because I don't like your daddy or think that he doesn't like me, doesn't mean that I have to get you a bad gift. I'll be the bigger person." (It's not as hard as it seems given my weight.) Finally I made my selections, and got in a very generous and celebratory mood. After all, the child is a blessing, and maybe the guy doesn't dislike me after all.
Because I had to finish something at work and because I couldn't possibly pick a gift in under 45 minutes, I arrived at the event about half hour late. I hoped that I came just in time and was about to go home, but it turned out that the celebration hasn't even started. Our kids were already exhausted and misbehaving. We split the kids thinking they would be easier to manage that way. I got my daughterm, and we decided to go to the second floor, which was packed with other women. My daughter wanted to see her daddy downstairs, so I managed to find a seat in the first row right in front of the balcony. Of course she had to lean over, so I was holding her very tight. The bar of the balcony barely reached her chest, and once again, I was holding her tight. So here's what happens at the event that runs an hour late and is packed with women who have very little going on in their lives and at the present time have nothing better to do than to gossip. It really is inevitable, like a law of physics. Well, almost.
My daughter was having fun watching my husband and her brother, I was holding her tight (I feel the need to repeat this yet again), trying to tune out all this talk in Farsi or whatever language all these women were speaking, when all of a sudden I heard a bark coming from my left. An elderly women started yelling at me from what seemed out of the blue, and please notice the reason for yelling, "Take her down!!! Don't you realize you are making people across from you nervous?! They think she might fall!" In my state of tiredness and complete ignorance when it comes to Farsi, I didn't realize that I was a topic of conversation for some time. And yeah, throw the kid down for all I care, just don't make people across from you nervous. So insensitive of me! Of course I put Naomi down and poor kid got yelled at when she tried to get back. As I was struggling to keep her in my lap, some woman from across the room came over and in a much nicer voice tried to tell me that what I was doing was probably dangerous, and head is heavier than body, and from where they were looking my daughter was almost all the way out. I knew I should've been nicer since the woman was polite and probably genuinely concerned and probably doing something I would've done myself, but I honestly couldn't convincingly fake gratitude. I gave her my most fake smile, thanked her and realized that we are probably better off downstairs. (Later at night I entertained the thought of finding the woman and apologizing to her, but I didn't find her, and I was also afraid that I might make things worse if she decided to give me another lecture.)
At that time hubby realized he couldn't control the baby and handed him off to me. Even though my son had complained all the time that he wanted mommy, he couldn't quite let go of daddy, who needed to pray. I tried to catch the baby a few times, and the last time my baby tried to sneak into the door after his dad, I caught his arm. Then I tried to pick him up, but the baby tried to wiggle his way out, so it looked like I raised him by one arm, which was also terribly twisted. And of course the entire episode had to be witnessed by another bunch of old ladies who also had nothing to do during the waiting time. And of course, they thought that a mother who is dumb enough to pick up her kid the way I did, wouldn't understand that they were talking about me, even though they were all raising their arms and pointing to their shoulders, to my kid and me. Oh, they are soooo conniving, so covert, they should work for KGB, CIA or Mossad. What a shame such gifts are lost on gossiping.
At that point, I couldn't take it any more and had nothing better to do than to go back upstairs. At least there were rooms without people where I could hide. Of course, the kids had the mind of their own and went to the room with the balcony. Of course, by that time it was already nine, the kids were exhausted and tried to take the place apart. Had I known the event would start this late, I would have kept them home. Luckily for me, they lost interest in the event unfolding downstairs, and simply tackled and scratched each other and tried to stick their fingers in the closing doors. A few time I was tempted to say to the onlookers, "You see, I actually have two kids that I could throw off the balcony, not just one." I guess it's payback time for all the bad thoughts I had pre-kids about parents unable to control their offspring. Sometimes they really are uncontrollable.
Finally, the praying was done with. I told the hubby that I wanted to get out ASAP, or as soon as the ceremony was over. If I could, I would have left eons ago. After another agonizing fifteen minutes with overtired kids, we finally went home. I was surprised that hubby saw things my way, and didn't think I was exaggerating. He was also annoyed about the delay, since he had to rearrange his schedule for nothing, really. He would've made the event without extra hassle since it started over an hour late. And my mood was genuinely spoiled. I spent entire day at work uncomfortably dressed, went very out of my way to get the gifts, tortured my kids and myself...for what? To be judged by the bunch of old women and leave in much worse mood than I came in with? Next time, I am staying home.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Monday, October 15, 2007
If all fails, use Murphy's law?
Last week my baby got some bug. He would throw up for no apparent reason and had diarrhea. In all other ways he was absolutely fine. This lasted for about three or four days. Then it stopped, but for the next 2 days he refused to eat and drank very little. At some point I noticed that his diapers were kind of dry. Then my folks took the kids for about half a day. When we picked them up, I asked when their diapers were changed, and mom mentioned that the baby didn't really need a diaper change for more than 6 hours. His diaper was completely dry. I got a bit worried. That day he started drinking normally, drank 2 bottles of chocolate milk and a bottle of juice. And still, his diapers were dry, for two consecutive days ... Of course I went on the Internet and found out that all of his symptoms pointed to UTI (urinary tract infection), which in kids could present with unusual symptoms, such as fever, little urination (as opposed to peeing every five minutes in adults), throwing up, refusal to eat, squirming and diarrhea. My guy had all of the above, except he wasn't running a fever and not particularly irritable, though he wanted to be held all the time. Immediately I thought of calling my pediatrician. Then I remembered that I have a best friend who is going through pediatric residency, and called her instead.
She said to give the baby lots of fluids and see if anything happens. She suggested not calling the doctor since he seemed fine. The doctor would not be able to do anything any way until the morning. So I tried to bribe my son with chocolate milk, cola, anything he might want to drink, but he refused. And he wasn't peeing. Then he took off his pants, and I thought, oh good, I won't put PJ's on him. Maybe if it's cool in the apartment and he's without pants, he might get cold and pee. I waited fifteen minutes, he still didn't pee. I took off his shirt, leaving him wearing only his diaper, and felt like the worst mother in world, since it was cool in the apartment. Still, dry diaper after fifteen minutes.
And then I had a bright idea. Ingenious, really. I should make Murphy's law work for me. You see, every (literally, every) time we leave the baby without a diaper, no matter for how short a period of time, he pees somewhere. He is really fast that way. It was supposed to work like this - if he wouldn't pee in his diaper, the baby definitely would if I took it off, so it would be harder to clean him up. So I took off his diaper quite excited about the idea. Still, the baby didn't pee. I gave up. My idea didn't work and Murphy's law didn't work, and if Murphy's law didn't work, nothing would. My disappointment was huge... I thought I discovered an equivalent of electricity, or at least something just as useful in everyday life. I already saw myself giving seminars on "Making Murphy's Law work for YOU", writing books, and overall improving people's lives, one disaster at a time. And there, my own idea didn't work for me. I was also quite worried that the baby didn't pee at all the entire day. Resolved to take the next day off and take him to the doctor, I went to get his diaper. When I got back to the room fifteen seconds later (again, literally), my son turned our living room upside down. I saw clothes thrown all over the floor and every other surface of our living room, toys everywhere and lo and behold three puddles on my kitchen floor, only one of them urine. The other two were...well, did I mention the baby had diarrhea?
So the lesson learned - you cannot use Murphy's law to your advantage, otherwise, it wouldn't be Murphy's law. It will still get you when you don't expect it - in my case I had to give up on the idea before it worked. Ironic, right? I immediately called my friend (I HAD to call her, even before I cleaned, right?) to tell her that Murphy's law worked a little too well for me and said that the only thing missing in this story was my husband, somewhat of a neat freak, at least in comparison to me. It would be a complete Murphy's law if he walked in right now, in this mess, when the entire day our apartment was more or less neat. He always complains that he never can come home and see a neat house; if he walked in that minute he would see more than the usual suspects - toys and clothes - on the floor... He probably would go crazy. But G-d in his infinite kindness had mercy on both of us, and my husband walked in three seconds after I cleaned up the poop. After I told him what had happened, he was so happy that it wasn't him cleaning that stuff up, he only laughed and didn't say anything about trashed living room - phew.
I think the idea of making Murphy's law work for you needs a little tweaking here and there before being marketing to the public, right?
She said to give the baby lots of fluids and see if anything happens. She suggested not calling the doctor since he seemed fine. The doctor would not be able to do anything any way until the morning. So I tried to bribe my son with chocolate milk, cola, anything he might want to drink, but he refused. And he wasn't peeing. Then he took off his pants, and I thought, oh good, I won't put PJ's on him. Maybe if it's cool in the apartment and he's without pants, he might get cold and pee. I waited fifteen minutes, he still didn't pee. I took off his shirt, leaving him wearing only his diaper, and felt like the worst mother in world, since it was cool in the apartment. Still, dry diaper after fifteen minutes.
And then I had a bright idea. Ingenious, really. I should make Murphy's law work for me. You see, every (literally, every) time we leave the baby without a diaper, no matter for how short a period of time, he pees somewhere. He is really fast that way. It was supposed to work like this - if he wouldn't pee in his diaper, the baby definitely would if I took it off, so it would be harder to clean him up. So I took off his diaper quite excited about the idea. Still, the baby didn't pee. I gave up. My idea didn't work and Murphy's law didn't work, and if Murphy's law didn't work, nothing would. My disappointment was huge... I thought I discovered an equivalent of electricity, or at least something just as useful in everyday life. I already saw myself giving seminars on "Making Murphy's Law work for YOU", writing books, and overall improving people's lives, one disaster at a time. And there, my own idea didn't work for me. I was also quite worried that the baby didn't pee at all the entire day. Resolved to take the next day off and take him to the doctor, I went to get his diaper. When I got back to the room fifteen seconds later (again, literally), my son turned our living room upside down. I saw clothes thrown all over the floor and every other surface of our living room, toys everywhere and lo and behold three puddles on my kitchen floor, only one of them urine. The other two were...well, did I mention the baby had diarrhea?
So the lesson learned - you cannot use Murphy's law to your advantage, otherwise, it wouldn't be Murphy's law. It will still get you when you don't expect it - in my case I had to give up on the idea before it worked. Ironic, right? I immediately called my friend (I HAD to call her, even before I cleaned, right?) to tell her that Murphy's law worked a little too well for me and said that the only thing missing in this story was my husband, somewhat of a neat freak, at least in comparison to me. It would be a complete Murphy's law if he walked in right now, in this mess, when the entire day our apartment was more or less neat. He always complains that he never can come home and see a neat house; if he walked in that minute he would see more than the usual suspects - toys and clothes - on the floor... He probably would go crazy. But G-d in his infinite kindness had mercy on both of us, and my husband walked in three seconds after I cleaned up the poop. After I told him what had happened, he was so happy that it wasn't him cleaning that stuff up, he only laughed and didn't say anything about trashed living room - phew.
I think the idea of making Murphy's law work for you needs a little tweaking here and there before being marketing to the public, right?
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Ten things I wouldn't know if I didn't co-sleep
If I didn't co-sleep with my children, I would probably never know...
...what it feels like to have three people in the bed meant for one.
...that I would have to justify my sleeping arrangements to everyone starting from my parents ending with the janitor in my pediatrician's office.
...that some (read: all) people who don't co-sleep are very judgmental.
...that a 15 pound baby could take up more space than a 200 pound adult.
...what if feels like to be spit up on.
...what it feels like to be peed on.
...what it feels like to be thrown up on.
...what it feels like to be happy that no one have pooped on you. Yet.
...that there's a good chance that I am a closeted masochist.
...that I could be happy to be woken up at 4 a.m. by my baby because it would give me another chance to cuddle with him/her.
...what it feels like to be woken up by my baby's kisses.
...what it feels like to be woken up by a very small fist hitting you straight in the eye (now the preferred choice of waking up mommy because she makes such a funny squeal when punched in the eye...)
...that my daydreaming would be about sleeping alone in my bed.
... that I would spend around $857 on professional advice trying to figure out how to win back my bed from the kids.
...that I would sabotage our efforts to win back my bed.
...that I would be obsessed with the word "bed".
...that I would be so sleep-deprived that I wouldn't see the difference between ten and twenty.
...that not seeing a difference between ten and twenty does not make you a bad accountant.
...that I would use any opportunity, no matter how short, to jump into bed if no one is there.
...that knowing all of the above ahead of time, I still would co-sleep.
...what it feels like to have three people in the bed meant for one.
...that I would have to justify my sleeping arrangements to everyone starting from my parents ending with the janitor in my pediatrician's office.
...that some (read: all) people who don't co-sleep are very judgmental.
...that a 15 pound baby could take up more space than a 200 pound adult.
...what if feels like to be spit up on.
...what it feels like to be peed on.
...what it feels like to be thrown up on.
...what it feels like to be happy that no one have pooped on you. Yet.
...that there's a good chance that I am a closeted masochist.
...that I could be happy to be woken up at 4 a.m. by my baby because it would give me another chance to cuddle with him/her.
...what it feels like to be woken up by my baby's kisses.
...what it feels like to be woken up by a very small fist hitting you straight in the eye (now the preferred choice of waking up mommy because she makes such a funny squeal when punched in the eye...)
...that my daydreaming would be about sleeping alone in my bed.
... that I would spend around $857 on professional advice trying to figure out how to win back my bed from the kids.
...that I would sabotage our efforts to win back my bed.
...that I would be obsessed with the word "bed".
...that I would be so sleep-deprived that I wouldn't see the difference between ten and twenty.
...that not seeing a difference between ten and twenty does not make you a bad accountant.
...that I would use any opportunity, no matter how short, to jump into bed if no one is there.
...that knowing all of the above ahead of time, I still would co-sleep.
Friday, October 12, 2007
First impressions
I am applying to schools for my daughter now. Someone had told me that I would be able to say a lot about the school based on their application. It is true, and quite honestly I am not impressed. In one school, they asked me so many questions just to mail me out the stupid form! So if they didn't like my maiden name, they wouldn't have sent me the application?
And then there are the applications themselves... Reading through them, one cannot but think that no one put much thought into the questions and no one is concerned that for most parents this is the first real encounter with the school. I guess nobody told them that first impressions really count. In my humble opinion, only questions that matter should appear on the form - if the question is not relevant in deciding whether the child gets to step 2 - the interview - why ask it? And if those questions are relevant, then quite frankly I would be disgusted. For example, why should it matter whether the child's parents are married/divorced/deceased? One school had only two options for the marital status of the parents: married or divorced/separated. What if a parent is widowed - need not apply? And then there are questions you would like to answer truthfully, but know that your application will be tossed if you do so, so you lie, pretty much just like most other applicants.
One application asks for the picture of my child. Why? Are they afraid I might sneak in a different child for the interview? Or do they run the picture through Interpol to make sure the 3-yr-old is not involved in any terrorist activity/drug smuggling/human trafficking? What's next - blood sample and fingerprints? And that particular school doesn't even guarantee you the interview, so what are they going to do with the pictures of kids who didn't get to that step? Post them on the Internet under the "Look at the losers who didn't merit an interview with our elite school"? And once again - does the picture help them in weeding out students not eligible for the interview? Do looks matter? Should I then go for the full disclosure and send my own picture as well, so that the school can decide ahead of time if they want a mug like that associated with their unblemished name?
The whole process would be extremely annoying (as opposed to just simply annoying) if not for one school, who simply did away with applications. They just take down your name, phone number and simply set up appointments to meet with prospective students. Just for that they have scored points in my book.
And then there are the applications themselves... Reading through them, one cannot but think that no one put much thought into the questions and no one is concerned that for most parents this is the first real encounter with the school. I guess nobody told them that first impressions really count. In my humble opinion, only questions that matter should appear on the form - if the question is not relevant in deciding whether the child gets to step 2 - the interview - why ask it? And if those questions are relevant, then quite frankly I would be disgusted. For example, why should it matter whether the child's parents are married/divorced/deceased? One school had only two options for the marital status of the parents: married or divorced/separated. What if a parent is widowed - need not apply? And then there are questions you would like to answer truthfully, but know that your application will be tossed if you do so, so you lie, pretty much just like most other applicants.
One application asks for the picture of my child. Why? Are they afraid I might sneak in a different child for the interview? Or do they run the picture through Interpol to make sure the 3-yr-old is not involved in any terrorist activity/drug smuggling/human trafficking? What's next - blood sample and fingerprints? And that particular school doesn't even guarantee you the interview, so what are they going to do with the pictures of kids who didn't get to that step? Post them on the Internet under the "Look at the losers who didn't merit an interview with our elite school"? And once again - does the picture help them in weeding out students not eligible for the interview? Do looks matter? Should I then go for the full disclosure and send my own picture as well, so that the school can decide ahead of time if they want a mug like that associated with their unblemished name?
The whole process would be extremely annoying (as opposed to just simply annoying) if not for one school, who simply did away with applications. They just take down your name, phone number and simply set up appointments to meet with prospective students. Just for that they have scored points in my book.
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