Medical Attention

Have you ever been irritated a pediatric nurse with a sweet tone of voice and honest questions and not even realized it?  At least if I'm going to be in a fight, let me know about it.  Feeling caught off-guard by rudeness manifested out of nowhere is just wrong.  I need time to process what's coming my way--at least offer me that courtesy. 

It was my right to be upset, not hers--yet I wasn't.  She wasn't bounced back and forth from department A to department B, each time re-explaining to the forgetful receptionist who I was and what I wanted.  "Hold please...Hold please...Let me get the nurse again."  Maybe if I'm nice they'll humor me. 

So I thought.  

Not being on her end of the receiver, I couldn't see what other pressing assignments she had to attend to, so I couldn't imagine her frustration or where it truly came from.  But I can tell you she would've saved some time running around if she actually listened to my questions before trying to find the wrong answers.  Forgetting the reason why I even called, I entertained her for the few moments I wasn't on hold.  "I don't want to pay for this anti-body boost my son doesn't have to have at $100 a pop.  He stays at home with me and goes to group once a week where they turn you away if you are feeling sick."  "Well you should do it if it's for the well-being of your child."  Wait--did I catch that right?  Are we now insinuating that I don't have my child's well-being in mind when it comes down to money?  Now my tone has changed.

Answers--to questions I never even asked which got me way off-track and adjusted my attitude for the morning.  Those answers she inevitably thought they should suffice for now.  When I didn't say, "Thank you for all your hard work, have a nice day," it was almost as if she were looking at me from across the room asking What's she still doing here?  Finally I regained consciousness after the whirlwind of unnecessary conversation and cut to the chase.  There were plenty of other people I talked to moments prior who would gladly help me.  But she decided she was up to the task after all.

Who knew it could be that easy to schedule an appointment?

Before we hung up, she had the nerve to tell me "Things will get better," as if the agitation was all on me; as if all the questions were coming out of some pit of despair over my son rather than simply wanting simple answers to my simple questions.  What she didn't realize is that I wasn't irritated at all until she began to get short with me. 

Anyway, I hope the next time I call I won't have to speak to the whole (actually small) office before I get any real medical attention.~*

Reduce, Reuse, Recall

As I trip the light fantastic at the latest Mom-2-Mom, I only have one thing in mind: deals.  Part of the resale shopping high is price comparison; I gloat about my steals to anyone who will listen.  I have lost track of the hundreds of dollars I have saved over the past years by buying second-hand items.  Not only do I get a thrill by saving money, I also feel I am doing my duty as a good citizen of Earth.  Reusing is a great way to be green.  But as a very smart consumer, I really should be considering another aspect to this surprisingly risky business: recalls.

I sold an infant sling to a young new mom this weekend who instantly wanted to try it out with her newborn son.  I helped him in and refitted the strap for her and off she went, smiling at her great find.  This morning my mom's stomach turned as she heard the latest recall on the news--my infant sling, which has caused three infant deaths so far. 

Go with me if you will a few months back to a clearance end cap at Target.  I am 8 1/2 months pregnant, swollen feet, and nesting--which means I am on a mean bargain hunt making preparations for my son.  We find a great stroller to replace the not-so-great bargain stroller I had to have a couple pregnancy-moment months before.  The not-so-great bargain stroller I purchased on Craigslist and agreed to buy it before looking at it.  When we got it home, I was sorely disappointed after discovering the replacement parts, which I had convinced myself of all the way home could be easily found on the manufacturers website, were no longer in production and despite my meticulous searches to find a supplier, the had-to-have product was a bust.  I was pleased as punch when the shiney new stroller was assembled and ready for D-day.

To my chagrin, it has recently been recalled because the canopy can lacerate or cut-off a child's finger tip.  A new canopy can be reordered through the company.

But I've been down that road, too.  Our crib, another great find on Craigslist, was recalled just a week after we purchased it.  The hinges holding the matress board in place were not as strong as they needed to be and were breaking and causing serious injuries.  New hinges were sent to us as a replacement.  The second serious recall on the same crib was the drop-down siding, which could cause a child to be caught in between the rail and the matress, causing strangulation deaths across the country.  We were informed that a new fixed rail would be making its way to us...eventually.  After eventually waiting four months where our child had to sleep in his pack-n-play, we collapsed the apparent death trap and took it to Babies R' Us' own cash-for-clunkers and got a discount on a brand new not-yet-recalled crib.

Perhaps getting the best bargain on a gently used baby item doesn't have as much glory as I thought.  Can I risk a recall on an unknowingly dangerous older item because I want to save the planet? 

Of course I'm wondering, "Who's to blame?"  In discussing this with my friend, a co-mother, we both admitted tossing aside the instruction manuals at the excitement of the finished product.  Are people out there really that naive in thinking, "That won't really happen to my child," and use the product inproperly?  Are American's misuing product and then turning their unhappy outcome feelings on the people who made the item?  Are we really that sue-happy?  Or maybe it really is the baby gear companies' fault.  Perhaps in an effort to boost sales, they put quantity over quality and push out new stuff each season without really taking the time to test and re-test the very things which hold our precious cargo.  I imagine millions of products being recalled can't be good for business.  

I'm second, third, and fourth reguessing my trust in all these seemingly safe baby products.  And I thought H1N1 and SIDS were my biggest contenders.  I guess I'll have to rely on good ol' instinct and common sense if my child is going to make it to age 10.~*

Holy Zumba

Cheesy aerobics videos, endless boring magazine articles tucked in mom magazines of trim ladies using soup cans as hand weights, and the ever intimidating gym membership complete with tireless professional stair-steppers has surprisingly done nothing to inspire me into action.  Yet, I dare say, there's is an exercise routine out there that's worth looking forward to. 

Zumba!  If the name is as fun as it sounds, sign me up!

I've been bugging my husband for years now to take a dance class with me in order to get or keep in shape--whatever comes first.  Motivation is key when it comes to this sort of thing, and fun is definately high on the motivation list.  The dance class hasn't happened, but I found something more intense and invigorating than two-steppin'.  Zumba is packed with high-energy, fast paced movements to deliciously diverse music.  The slammin' dance moves keep your body grooving.  Your muscles scream, "STOP!" but your mind shouts "GO!" as you move to the beat.

I think I found my antidote to my companion, the blessed baby-weight.~*   

Photo Journaling

I've read and loved the book 3191: A Year of Mornings.  It is a photo journal between two friends who live in the city of Portland on both the east and west coasts.  Each morning the friends took a snapshot of something in their routine.  Wonderfully, the photos of the day seemed to compliment one another or in some cases, resemble the very same things.  The pictures captured such beauty and elegance in everyday, ordinary objects.  A peppered omelette over toast, scattered crayons from a child's drawing, raindrops on the window pane.  It was as if to say if you stop and smell the roses, you'll find they actually have some color, too.  Simple photos--a breather in one's busy day.

My long time wish is to take on this task of photo journaling.  Hopefully I will be able to better my skills with the lens and take some daily breathers as well.~*   

Transformative Power

If people really knew about the miraculous, transformative power of having a child with Down syndrome, they'd all be praying for one themselves.~*

Meet Meat

Turkey was (was) a hit, chicken didn't go over too well, and beef had the worst reaction of them all--a side order of tantrum topped with spitting.  We both needed baths after that encounter. 

Turkey alone, as I mentioned, was a hit.  It even smelled like turkey and was complemented well with some sweet potato puree.  But he wouldn't take it well with his grandma.  I told her to sing and sing she did.  Made-up melodies trailed off as she ushered in broadway classics, like West Side Story.  I didn't mind until she sang to him about the Jets; the whole "first cigarette to your last dyin' day" bit isn't exactly G-rated.  Anyway, the songs didn't inspire an "open wide," but it did drown out some of the protest at the other end of the spoon. 

Chicken, so I'm told, is gritty.  It sort of smelled like chicken, or I can see the likeness.  His face was priceless--simple snacking to immediate disgust as soon as his toothless gums began to mash it around.  Luckily he chose to swallow that entree instead of rejecting it toward his mama.

Beef--oh beef.  You smell like cat food and I don't blame my son for not liking you.  Green beans are enough to choke down, but dash it all I had to go and mix those two blasted ingredients and make a concoction so horrid it spewed in volcano-like fashion from a red hot mad little face into the air.  It was a peach co-vert op that saved the day. 

Onto the next meat frontier: egg yolk.  May you provide a better experience than your predecessors.~*