Dentist Drama

The excitement of Girl 1's first no crying successful* dentist visit was quickly tempered by the discovery of cavities. So a week later we go back to fill them and...nope. Reverted right back to the shrinking/wailing/terrified kid that we had to be referred to a pediatric** dentist. And when we went to that dentist she was even more terrified and screamed even worse, so the only treatment she received was a heavy fluoride treatment and was told to start using a mouthwash. When we go back to the not in network pediatric dentist in 3 months we have to hope that stopped them from growing, otherwise we have to put her under to treat her. All for teeth that she's going to lose eventually anyway. *cries*    

*Both visits prior she shrank into herself (and she's already pretty small) and wailed so much the dentist couldn't do anything in order not to traumatize her. 

**That's not in network. Of course not.

At least the mouthwash would be an easy enough stopgap measure right? *cackle* Fuck NO. The rigmarole at the dentists pales to the tantrums we've endured the past 3 weeks. My daughter fought me tooth and nail on her teeth...and nails* when she was a toddler and it's so. much. worse now.

*yeah, I know. The irony is not lost on me.

We have tried everything: No treats. No screen time. No puzzle with Grandma. We'll get her a Frozen II bed. No berry picking. Bribes. Go out for ice cream. Promises of Panera. Hugs. Kisses. Soothing tones. Screaming. Offering to do it with her. No Stories. Extra Stories. Walking away. And the one we thought would do it: No going to the babysitter's.  

Sunday night I sorta hog tied her with one arm and threw the mouthwash in her mouth while she thrashes and screamed with my other arm. Which went as well as it sounds. Monday night I told her she couldn't leave the bathroom until she did the mouthwash. She was begging to go to her bed (an entirely different battle for another blog for another day) and held on for an hour and a half before falling asleep on the bathroom floor. I was equal parts highly impressed at her ferocious tenacity and completely mortified she was asleep on the bathroom floor. 

 

So I don't know what to do. I don't know how to motivate her. I don't know her it seems. I never say the right things. I can't calm her down. I want to be a positive parent rather than a punitive one. I want to know what to do to help my girl. And I know this takes work but I wish it wasn't so fucking hard. This gargantuan effort it's taking to connect to my daughter makes me feel that I'm failing her. I'm not the parent I want to be and that hurts. And tonight the saga continues. Stay tuned.

Not Surprised

I'm not surprised at the tragedy of Charlottesville. 

Angry about it? Yes. 

Disgusted with all things white supremacists? Absolutely. 

Frustratingly sad and overall appalled? You better believe it. 

But surprised? No. 

This powder keg has been on a slow burn since king deplorable announced his candidacy. And I don't think Charlottesville is going to change a thing. There's going to be another rally. There's going to be more injuries. There will probably be more deaths. The orange asshole will condone by refusing to condemn. There will be public outrage. There will definitely be twitter shaming. But change? Probably not. 

That's fucking terrifying 

2016 Election Thoughts

I am pretty horrified by the 2016 election results. Actually, scared shit-less is a better description.
I know my husband and I will be okay. We're a white/Asian heterosexual legally recognized married college educated couple. We both have careers and insurance through our employers. But what about my LGBTQ friends? What about my extended family who is uninsured? What about the disabled and all the other same groups of people I don't know? What about my daughter? What the hell kind of world are we leaving her?

A demagogue. A racist. A xenophobe. A misogynist. That. That scares the hell out of me. And it should scare the hell out you too.

And I'm angry. I get that people just hate Clinton, whether it's she's establishment, not your party, don't agree with her record, etc. But you couldn't accept this devil you know is far better (and safer choice) than the devil you don't? And though I vehemently disagree with you, I accept that you have a reason for your choice. But don't defend the demagogue president-elect's rhetoric and behavior. Defending is accepting and allows the stance that anyone who isn't a rich-white-man is less than and doesn't matter as much. And that should be unacceptable behavior for a human being.

And to those of you who assuaged your conscious and voted for a 3rd party or write-in I hope you feel at least some sort of shame too. Because even though you may be happy you didn't didn't vote for either evil, your protest vote was not a vote for Clinton and she needed numbers. And while I know her supporters needed to show up at the polls too, splitting the vote is simple math and helped put that orange asshole into power.  

I proudly voted for Clinton, so I'm dismayed at the election results. And for a small bit of levity for this terrified post, I'm also pretty disappointed there won't be a taco truck on every corner either.  

Bull Poop

Parenting truth: Poop is a part of your daily conversation pieces.

If we're being honest, this sh*t (pun intended) starts even before the baby arrives. Because one of the unfun things about your body creating a human is that pretty much every other system in your body goes apesh*t in one way or another. And so you talk about it. Because you're pregnant and grumpy and out of f*cks to give.

Anyway. Here's some of our exchanges since becoming parents.

Baby is 3 days old-
me: Baby pooped on me. Parenting achievement unlocked.

Baby is 5 days old:
me: I have been pooped on twice today. That is all.

Baby is 4 months old-ish:
me: Blowout today was through her onesie and up her back, but her pants stayed clean.
dr soc: Impressive.
me: I know right?

After daycare drop off:
me: We're on outfit number 2 already.
dr soc: Already? 
me:  Yeah. If we're being honest we hadn't even left the house yet.
dr soc: Ouch.
me: And stinky.

After a particularly toxic diaper change:
dr soc: How bad?
me: Bath-worthy.

Two weeks ago:
dr soc: Ever seen a purple-looking nugget in baby girl's diapers?
me: Yup. Was there a gray tinge to it as well?
dr soc: Not sure, it's in the pail now. I was just surprised.
me: It probably did. Gray and nugget like from the yogurt and purple from the prunes.

today:
me: If you do nothing else today please for the love of god give our daughter a bath. There was poop on the wall.

Happy New Year

So. My 2014 started off with a bang.
New Years Day we drove to Kentucky to visit my parents and our friends. Saturday we were headed to cinci for a college friends wedding, and Sunday we were headed back to Charlotte. But those plans were scraped because:

My dad was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia.

The day after Mike and I arrived (Thursday), when dad came home from his adult day care, he was moving incredibly slow, barely had any coordination and balance, and he was trembling all over and leaning heavily towards his right side. I hoped that it was just his blood sugar being low due to his diabetes, but the shaking and leaning had me so scared that I feared this was something far worse (a stroke). Dad has lost most of his ability to talk, so even if he did know and could describe what was wrong, he couldn't even tell us anyway. With his doctor's office closed for the evening and the doctor on call being busy when my mom called, Mike and I exchanged and look and decided we were taking him to the ER now.

With a lot of difficulty we got him in the car and with even more difficulty we got him out of it. Dad was like a rag doll at this point, so it took all 3 of us to move him from the car, and even then if it wasn't for the help of a good Samaritan, he would have collapsed on me and than both of us would have been hurt. He was checked in and taken back to an exam room pretty quickly, and then we waited. (Turns out I went to elementary school with the ER admitting tech. She couldn't remember if I was the older or younger one (older), but she did remember that one of us sucked our thumb for a really long time (that was totally my sister).) Eventually from all the tests, blood draws and other hospital stuff, the doctor diagnosed a clear case of pneumonia.

He was given antibiotics and admitted for treatment after that, but he would have to stay in the hospital for at least a few days. And you know, it never occurred to me he would be admitted. Even though pretty much anything with the exception of low blood sugar would probably require hospitalization, it didn't even cross my mind he would have to stay in the hospital for some reason. Mike said that was due to being in crisis mode, we were so focused on finding out what was wrong that we couldn't fathom anything past that point.

I could go on and give more details about the rest of our visit, but frankly I'm so tired and I'll finish up the rest of the story tomorrow. But my dad is recovering very well and he can leave the hospital tomorrow! Yes we were in crisis mode, but all things considered, it was a manageable crisis and it put mom, my sister and I on the same page of dad's care, which is something we have never had before.

So yeah, my dad certainly started 2014 with a bang.

Update 1/10/14:
Dad went home on Wednesday the 8th and he's doing very well. There really isn't much more of the story anyway. We spent the next few days rotating shifts and staying overnight with dad. We decided to not go to the wedding and missed seeing my college friends, but everyone understood and we did get a little more time to see our Lexington friends. And my mom finally, finally has started accepting help with my dad's care. So I'll reiterate that while this was a crisis and really scary, all things considered, things are going to be ok.    

Dream a Little Dream

I had a dream the other night that I was Anne Boleyn and Mike was Henry VIII. He was kissing me and promised he would love me forever as long as I gave him a son.
I thought in my dream: well shit I know how this turns out.  

Heal

Healing can take a very long time. Not only physically, but also emotionally.
The dogs were at the sitter's last weekend and they got into a fight. They have gotten into fights before, but this is the first time one of the dogs had to go to the emergency vet, and the first time we weren't there to stop it. Before we've been able to pull them apart before either dog got harmed. If we don't break it up soon enough Bailey will try to run away, but Jules has a scrappy/feisty streak and will keep going after Bailey. This fight Bailey fought back, chomped Jules' neck and Jules went to the emergency vet with some deep puncture wounds. It was incredibly lucky that while the wounds are deep, none of them needed stitches and there doesn't seem to be tissue damage either. While Jules was shaken up for a while, her spirits have mostly returned to normal.  And we're also lucky that Jules didn't hurt Bailey either. Despite their size difference  it could only take one well (or ill) placed bite to take a dog down or cause some serious harm.

But.

Jules looks really bad. They had to shave her neck to get a better look at things, so you can see all the wounds and scratches and they are ugly. It's hard to see Jules with her wounds and know how lucky she was. It's also hard to look at Bailey knowing that she did that.  We honestly don't know who started the fight to begin with, but it doesn't matter. It's hard to come to terms that if the unthinkable had happened, we would have lost not one, but both our girls.

All four of us are hurting from this.  Jules is hurting from her wounds but she's also a smidgen more timid now. Bailey is confused because she's being treated as a problem dog and being blamed for everything again. It hurts my husband to see Jules hurt and Bailey's to blame. And I hurt for the same thing, but also because I'm back to being on defense for Bailey, but also completely scared I'm going to loose not just her but possibly both my dogs.    

It's so much bigger than me and Bailey anymore. I know that Bailey and Jules are just dogs, but they are my family. And I would do almost anything in the world to save my family except give up on them. Someone I work with's daughter is a miracle worker dog trainer, and we're going to start some hard core expensive training for all 4 of us. We could have sent them away for a few weeks but miracle worker is booked until mid-December (probably because she's a miracle worker), so we're opting to start the private lessons sooner. Plus that option is much more hands on for us humans which is something I think we all need. Jules' physical wounds are more than likely going to take a fairly long time to heal and that's just something we're going to have to be patient with. But I'm really hopeful that this training will help heal our little family up too.  

Grey or Gray? Either Way, It's Not My Favorite Color

Apparently being too terrified to get the mail and doing nothing but worrying about getting into grad school was too much for Mike to handle.  So he made me call the grad school for my admission status this morning since classes start in a month.

I was right to be worried.

Someone in the grad school office looked up my name and the reason the decision was taking so long.  And then I talked to her supervisor to explain things. I was told that a decision has been made, but there are still some questions about my gpa.  So my application has been forwarded to the department head's attention.  Who is in Dallas the rest of this week and not looking at my application. So as of this moment, my admission status is still in a "gray area."

That? Is not a yes. It's not a no either, but... it's not a yes.

This has to be based on my uc gpa. Because my uk cumulative gpa was a 2.9.  I have nothing to show for my 6 years at uc except a low gpa.  And there is nothing I can do to change that.  So now I'm just wishing and hoping and praying that cincinnati hasn't kept me from something I want once again.  Last year when I walked at my graduation, I believed I had finally triumphed over that school.  I had nothing to be embarrassed about anymore. I could hold my head high and say I earned this, and cinci couldn't take anything away from me anymore.  I should have known better.

Needless to say, I'm even more anxious now.  I've said that I would apply again and look into other programs if it didn't happen this year.  But if my gpa is the reason for their hesitancy, there's nothing I can do to change that and this is just going to keep coming up, no matter what school I apply to.  I'm still at the mercy of other people's acceptance.  

Gray sucks.

Home Improvements

I own a home.* Unlike apartment living, if you don't like something, you can change it. And since I went to interior design school for 6 years,** I have the knowledge and wherewithal of what and how to change things. (the brute strength not so much. But that's why designers hire people to do the manual labor)

Well, anyway, our home is a new home and has builder white walls, so literally, a blank pallet. (see also: boring) So, we bought paint. Burgundy for our bedroom, blue for 2 bathrooms, green and orange for 2 different guest rooms and purple for the guest bathroom. Yes, I live in a fun house and I love it. (his mom I don't think cares too much for all of the paint colors, but dr soc and I love it and it's our (his) house.) Picking paint colors was one of my least favorite tasks of design school, and it still is to this day. But it went fairly well with dr soc. When we found a color we both liked and thought would work, we stopped looking and went for it.

We have an open plan for the living room/kitchen, and I wanted to keep the public spaces neutral, with an accent wall to give it some personality. So we bought more paint. We get the dogs crated and the drop cloths down, and start to paint the majority of the downstairs...

And it's pretty much the exact same color as what's already on the walls. So, so, SO glad we have 3 gallons of non returnable paint and 775 square feet to cover with it. We can't change it (well, we can, we're just not going to) so we're a little (lot) pissed off. We decide to do another accent wall and wait until the next morning*** to tackle them. Fortunately, the accent walls help and created the contrast in the room we (I) were going for. And once we got everything back in the room and the cover plates back on, we can see the contrast more and the room is warmer. It's subtle, but it's what we wanted. And we like it.

But god, we were really pissed off with that neutral!

*not really. Dr soc owns our home and I just live here.
**I'm claiming a 1/2 degree from uc. Six years, I get to claim something other than ptsd and an unhealthy dose of bitterness.
*** we woke up hoping the paint elves had finished the room and changed the color to something more noticeable. No such luck.

Stress Management

Everyone is telling me I need to manage my stress. Let's file that under the no shit sherlock category. It's pretty obvious I need to do so. My chest constricts several times a day. I get anxious and nervous just as often. I'm on the constant verge of tears and almost any little thing can start them.

I know that stress is a natural part of life. I just have a ridiculous amount of crap going on right now, and all that ridiculous amount of crap is really stressful crap. I know that I need to manage it. But the problem isn't that I haven't found the time to try to calm down and relax. It's that I don't have any place to do so.

I have no place I can mentally check out. School is school, where I need to be a senior student with 18 credit hours so I can graduate. Work, while not stressful in the slightest, is still work. But home is where my biggest stressers and things I worry about most are. My dog and my dad.

I'm constantly worried I'm going to come home to bad news. That Bailey lunged at another person, or another ticket or worse a citation. Or that the hateful neighbor has taken action. I'm worried that my dad has had a bad day, or walked the dog by himself. I worry that he'll get lost, hasn't eaten lunch or instead eaten every single snack in the house instead of lunch. I'm worried that when I talk to dr soc at night that if we start talking about my dog we'll get in a fight about her. And I hate that when the stress does get to be too much for me to handle and I break down, he's not here to let me sob on his shoulder.

So yes, I know I need to f*cking manage my stress. But until I find a place to do so, I'm pretty much shit out of luck.

I have the bad dog. For real this time

When I got home from class yesterday, there was something hanging on the door. It was a citation from animal control due to Bailey. When my father was walking her in the afternoon, she jumped on someone and mouthed someone's arm. The citation didn't say she bit, but still, not good at all. Whoever this neighbor was, they called animal control and hence the citation. Which I don't blame them for, I would do the same if it wasn't my dog. Essentially, the citation said even though the dog was leashed, we didn't have control over her.

The problem, amongst other things such as having an aggressive dog, (and paying a fee), is that my dad can't and never has had control over Bailey. With his coordination and reaction time worse then ever, he'll never be able to do so now. So now, I can't let him take her for walks, which was about the only exercise my dad has been getting. Not to mention a huge help for me in between trying to graduate and working. We've already limited his driving and I don't want to keep taking away things from him. But this... I don't blame him entirely though, she's strong and stubborn. Even though I'm more two and a half times her weight, she can still pull me down the street if I'm not paying attention. But this can not happen again.

I don't want to hear I told you so. I know my dog is bad. I know there are bad habits I let slide and now have to take care of. I know there are no problem dogs, only problem owners. I have to be the one to take responsibility for her actions. I have to train her and my family so we're all on the same page. I'll just add that to the list of crap that was on the back burner to now high on the front burner.

But, well, shit. This just blows.