Tips from the Trenches: A Guide to Practical Parenting

My son is sick. He's been home from school for two days. Yesterday, when I took my daughter to preschool (5 minutes away), I decided to test leaving him at home by himself for a few minutes. See how it goes. I figured he's sick and not really motivated to make trouble. I was right, but...

Before I left, I wrote down my cell phone number, gave him the phone, and had him make a test call so he can see how it all works. He was confident that he would be fine. I agreed so off I went.

As I was buckling my daughter into the car, my phone rang. It was Jack.

"Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"Nothing. Just wanted to see if it works."
"OK, I'll be back in a few minutes. Bye."

As I was backing out of the parking space, my phone rang. It was Jack.

"Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"I can see you haven't left yet."
"No, I haven't. What did you need?"
"Nothing. Just wanted to see if it still works."
"OK. See you in a few minutes. Bye."

As I was turning into the carpool line, my phone rang. It was Jack.

"Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"Where are you?"
"I'm at Emma's school."
"Oh."
"When will you be back?"
"About 5 minutes."
"OK."
"Bye."

As I was pulling in to the parking space at home, my phone rang. It was Jack.

"Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"How much longer?"
"I'm nearly there."
"OK. I'm going to look out the window for you."
"OK. Bye."

As I was walking up to the back door, my phone rang. It was Jack.

"Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"I can see you."
"Oh, good."
"Bye."

Once I got home, there was a brief reprieve. However, about 30 minutes later, my phone rang. It was Jack.

"Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry to keep calling, but I'm too weak to come downstairs."
"What do you need?"
"I need a snack."

This went on all day. Even after I left the house to go to class.

This morning, I woke up to my cell phone ringing. It was Jack.

"Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"Are you still asleep?"
"No."
"Oh, OK. Just wanted to see if it still works."

Next time, I'm making up a phone number.

Depressing, but true. Turns out I was WAY off on the sock poll. Substantially more participants surveyed (a shocking 83%)  thought that it was more important for socks to be clean on the outside than on the inside.

Since I was the only person who voted for "clean on the inside", it appears I'm in the need of a major paradigm shift in my "beauty's only skin deep" philosophy. Crap...I guess it's time to start showering at the beginning of the day. (Or just make a bunch of new friends...that might be easier, actually.)

School lunch is an interesting topic. I doubt too many people would agree that the nutritional value of school lunch is, at least at times, pretty questionable, but it is convenient and cheap. (Isn't that what the fast food giants say, too? Interesting.)

My son and I used to have daily debates about lunch that involved me checking the published menu and negotiating whether or not he would take lunch. By the time we brokered a deal, I'd spent more time on talking about lunch than I would have spent making it.

So, I started making it everyday only to find him coming home with the healthiest parts leftover in his lunch bag. Then, I would spend each day pointing out what he should be eating instead of what he was eating since they don't bother to teach nutrition in schools while it matters the most. (Hmmm, obesity problem? Why not educate them early and often? But that's another soap box.)

After two years of honing my methods, I realized that my lunch strategy was simple AND effective! Basically, my lunch tips come down to two issues outlined below with my suggested solutions. So here goes:

Problem 1: Child doesn't want to eat school lunch.
Solution A: Progressively make home made lunches less palatable.
Solution B: Hide the food so that every once in a while you can say "I don't have anything to give you. You'll have to eat at school today."

Problem 2: Child doesn't eat the most nutritional parts of the home made lunch. (Why do those pieces of fruit or the carrots always come home?)
Solution: Slightly underfeed the child so that he/she is hungry enough to eat everything. Works every time!

Be sure to offer a nutritional snack at pick-up or as soon as he/she gets home. See here for tips on providing healthy snacks.

Happy eating!

Oh, dear. What happened? Some time between now and 2 weeks ago, I dropped off the planet into a hyper-speed time warp. (I hope that is a reasonable fictional Sci-Fi reference. My IQ drops at least 50 points in the presence of SCI FI-ese.)

Anyway, it all started pleasantly enough when I took my 6-year old to the dentist. It was one of the proudest moments of my life. Then, I took him to school. Went home. Went back to pick him up. Found him with a mouth stuffed full of tissue paper trying to assuage the bleeding in his cheek.

Turns out he mutilated his cheek while it was numb. It is still unclear whether or not it was an act of defiance (the dentist warned him!), ignorance (did he not listen to the warning?), or just stupidity (did he choose to IGNORE the warning and big, fat do it anyway?); but either way, it was a major mess.

The good news, I think he'll think twice before refusing to brush his teeth. The bad news, 10 days of antibiotics (3X per day) and Tylenol with codeine, a face that I thought would never un-swell, and some pretty dramatic scaring on the inside of this cheek.

So, anyway, that was bad. Yes, but the fun continues.

The next trauma was watching the murder of my beloved laptop ("it was an accident"). I say murder, but really it was more like it slipped unknowingly (but firmly) into a coma from which it would awake.

Upon receiving an estimate (that cost me $120!) of $805 to fix it, I dug deep in my soul (read: wallet) to consider the hard questions in life. Ultimately, I decided that I believe in socialized medicine so I said a prayer and turned off life support. Rest in pieces, Pink Sony Vaio. You will be missed.

Fortunately, I also believe in reincarnation, capitalism, and the kindness of family. New Sony Vaio on the way! Thank you, Black Friday! (Oh, and my superbly talented, frugal, and technically savvy genius of a brother who located the right buy at the right time. Yeah!)

On the bright side, instead of wasting my time on Facebook, I read 6 books.

Wait, not done yet.

On Tuesday, I went to pick-up my son from school locking the door behind me. Upon returning 20 minutes later, I find that the lock has broken in the locked position. So, after calling the landlord who called the locksmith who called me back who came to drillout the lock, the kids and I stood around for about 2 hours waiting to get in to the house.

Because, it turns out, my door is 2 1/4" thick (not the standard, I guess) the owners need to either replace the front door OR order an expensive custom lock. So until that earth shattering decision is made, I'm left with a lock that only works from the outside. (So, I can get in, but once I'm in I can't lock it or get out if it is locked.) All I need now is a Lo Jack and I can start logging some house arrest time, just in case. (I believe in being efficient...should I ever need to do some time under house arrest.)

Oh, and then there was Thanksgiving. No more explanation required.

Finally, last night we promised the kids that we would take them to see the fantastic Christmas lights display at the local botanical gardens only to have my 3-year old daughter throw-up in my ear as she was being loaded in to the car to go. This resulted in the cancelation of the promised trip and a cross between enraged freakout and the silent treatment that only an experienced 6-year old can administer. Not to mention, a nasty mess to clean out of my ear which is quite a bit harder than it sounds.

Because I'm supposed to be offering tips or other handy parenting advice, here are the learnings from this crazy month:

• Never take your child to the dentist. It is MUCH easier if you just let their rot and teeth fall out.
• Don't be too quick to judge socialized medicine. It works!
• Never lock your doors.
• Always keep a supply of antibacterial gel (any brand) and Q-Tips (not the cheap, generic kind) in your car, bag, and/or pocket. Always.

Today is another landmark day on my parenting skills calendar: the day my 6-year old sat patiently and in extremely good humor while the dentist filled cavities in his teeth.

After learning 2 weeks ago the he needed several cavities filled, I've been almost paralyzed by fear of his reaction to the process. He has not had a great amount of success with probing, specialist treatments even though he is always cooperative at the doctors for basic stuff. Add to that the potential for his first grade peers to tell him about their experiences. I knew I was in for trouble.

Let's overlook the negligent parenting involved in the development in the cavities in the first place for a minute and bask in the florescent glow of the dentist's bulb so that I can pass on my tips for prepping a child for the visit to the dentist.

While I didn't harp on the topic, I did spend the past two weeks prepping for the big day and I think it paid off, so here's what I did:

• First, I made VERY clear that he should COMPLETELY IGNORE everything that anyone, especially his friends, told him about going to the dentist. I told him to call the person a liar, cover his ears, then to scream and run away
• Then, I told him that it DIDN'T HURT, but that he would feel a pinch near his teeth and that this was only to make the fun stuff happen...the fat, sense-less lip.
• I explained that the doctor would put something on his gums that would make his mouth feel stranger than he'd ever flelt before, that he would not be able to smile properly, and that he would talk with a really silly lisp. I told him, in theory, someone could punch him in the cheek and that he wouldn't feel a thing (until it wore off, of course.)
• I imitated the screeching whir of the "cavity remover" (i.e. drill) and said that he shouldn't be worried about it as long as he didn't move.
• I also reminded him to close his eyes so that the water didn't splash his eyes.

When the big day came, he said that he was a little, tiny bit nervous, but he approached the magic chair with poise and charisma. Forty-five minutes later, he walked out with a mouth full of fillings and a fat lip. I was so proud.

The last thing I told him as we were heading out the door was that I had to pay exorbitantly for him to have so much fun and that I couldn't afford to do it again with Novocaine so he needed to BRUSH HIS TEETH!!!!!

Seemed to work like a charm. Whew! Hope he doesn't come home with a peer-induced fat lip.

For those of you who know me, you have probably figured out that I don't predict results particularly well. I'm habitually clumsy and am often surprised when disaster rears its ugly, vicious, fire breathing head. I've even, through extensive research, scientifically determined that in an emergency, I most likely would go out in a panicked blaze of unpreparedness.

Which brings me to a "quiet" morning (about 6 weeks ago) at the top of my stairs. I was listening to the kids peacefully discuss whose fault it was that the walls got accidentally painted in green Crayola paint while thinking about a lovely dream I'd had the night before where I was on a plane crashing in to the North Pole (must be thinking about Christmas shopping already). I'd just arranged to drop my kids with my MIL so I could get some errands done at lightening speed in preparation for our 2-week beach vacation in three days which also happen to coincide with my son's sixth birthday. (The numbers alone are staggering.)

It was then that I started my tenth leisurely stroll that morning down the stairs. I didn't think I was unusually distracted, but that's what I get for thinking, I guess. The next thing I remember was a nasty popping, cracking sound accompanied by a wrenching, ripping, popping sensation and MEGA PAIN! I was lying on the floor at the bottom of the stairs calmly reviewing my emergency preparedness plan while screaming some of my long lost-to-parenting favorite words.

It took a couple of seconds before I realized that my kids were standing in the doorway looking a little worried. The problem was I was alone with 2 young children and I was totally out of my mind in pain.

Lucky me, I'd fallen near my handbag. I was able to extract my newly acquired iPhone and began to call by EMT brother for advice. I was pretty sure I'd broken my leg in half, but I very reasonably wanted to check with him first. (I was very calm, you see.) When he didn't answer, I called just about everyone else in my phone. No one was answering. I was starting to sweat because of the pain. The only thing I could think of was that I didn't want to call my sister-in-law because she just started her job and it would not be good if she had to leave unexpectedly.

After not being able to reach my husband who was a 2-hour drive away, I decided that calling my SIL was the only option. Of course, she answered on the first ring. And, of course, immediately came to help. She was able to get in touch with my EMT brother who told me to call an ambulance. Which I did.

Then, I realized it was time for a little damage control. I smiled bewitchingly at my children, explained that I had fallen down the stairs (duh!), that I thought I'd broken my leg (duh!), and that they were not to worry because I'd called an ambulance and both Uncle Hugh and "Tato" were coming to help. I also slipped in a mention that they were not to repeat any of the new words they might have learned that morning.

It was at this point that I realized my front door is both locked and ridiculously hard for me to open. All at once, I knew that I couldn't do it and it would be almost impossible for my son. I was imagining the fire department showing up and breaking down the door to get to me lying gracelessly at the bottom of the stairs surrounded in packing materials from our move a few days earlier.

Fortunately, my son understood the importance of what he needed to do. (After I explained it, of course, in response to the "but I can't" complaints.) Just in time, he was able to turn the key and yank the door open as the ambulance, my brother, and his wife pulled up.

It turned out that the paramedics didn't think it was majorly broken and they were able to wheel me down the front steps to my brother's car in an odd wheel chair contraption so he could take me to the ER and they could get on with helping people who really needed it. After a surprisingly quick ER trip, I was booted, crutched, and returned to the ever patient hands of my children who were none the worse for wear. (Except a near paralyzing fear of the stairs, that is.)

To make a short story even longer, here's the moral. Plan a little. Even a teeny, tiny bit. Many of us, especially if you are a military spouse, spend enormous amounts of time alone for extended periods (days, weeks, even months). Prepare yourself and your kids for when something "out of the ordinary" happens. Explain what they would have to do if an ambulance arrived at your house one day. Let them know that an "official" (Child and Family Services) might be responsible for getting them to a family member safely if you cannot drive them there yourself. Show them where the phone is. Discuss your emergency plan with people upon whom you expect to rely for help. And, above all, remind them that they should always wear clean underwear and mind their manners.

Sometimes when you are a parent of small children, you are lucky enough to be admitted to the hospital. When you win the parenting lottery and this happens to you, it is best to be prepared.

I recommend packing a bag ahead of time so that you will not have to think while you are in pain. Grab and go is the best policy here. Some things to include in your bag are:

• A "Do Not Disturb" door hanger for your room. Just let the nurses know that you will buzz them when you need them and you do not want to be interrupted unless they are bringing you meds or your pizza delivery.
• Your computer so you don't miss out on valuable Facebook and blogging time. (Be sure to ask about the availability of Wi Fi in advance.)
• An updated list of your local food delivery service phone numbers. Call ahead to find out what they need to be able to deliver to the hospital. Sometimes this may require a "tip up front" arrangement to give them some incentive to work the complex hospital heirarchy.
• Your favorite personal items, such as lotion, nail polish, manicure set, make-up, etc.
• Reading material (Non-parenting related items are recommended. After all, you don't want to be distressed while you are "healing".)
• iPod with your favorite entertainment and games.
• A soduku puzzle mag. This is best used after you've taken your meds.
• Your best silk jammies (as long as you don't expect to have weeping wounds during your stay).
• Your favorite snacks and beverages. Room service is sometimes a little slow in hospitals. In addition, most hospitals will not serve alcoholic beverages, so pack carefully.

To get the most out of your spa treatment, call the nurses for any and all needs irrespective of their apparent importance to the nurse. After all, this is your time. Don't lose sight of that goal.

Be sure to ask if they have a physical therapist who can massage your bed sore muscles. Many hospitals provide this service and will happily bill your insurance company for you. No tipping required.

Get plenty of rest. This might be your last opportunity for your entire parent-cy. After a day or so of attending to your every whim, it is likely that you will have easy access to all sedatives required for maximum sleepiness.

Finally, be sure to fill out all your forms before you have your manicure. You wouldn't want to sacrifice beauty for bureaucracy.

And, don't forget to put the spa treatment on your list for Mother's Day! You never know.

Have you ever noticed that when your child is terribly ill, they are so nice? And when they are just getting better (not necessarily fully healthy), they are so mean? It's like the conscience, the essence of being, lies somewhere between healthy and ill. Too sick to be mean. Not well enough to be nice.

Being a child is hard. There's so much to learn and the bar is set quite high. It's no surprise really that few of us come out of childhood unscathed and I'm wondering if it has something to do with the strange, paradoxical expectation that we want our children to be both normal and unique. Interestingly, the trip through adulthood seems to be about fighting this paradox as well. Some of us want to be more "normal" while others of us want to be more "unique".

We spend a lot of time as parents asking ourselves, each other, our doctors, our teachers, and everyone in between if a behavior is "normal". Along side that is the hope and expectation that our children are treated as unique individuals and identified as special amongst their peers. For example, we want our "normal" children to get "straight As" in school. Is that possible? By definition, an "A" is awarded to excellent work. Not "normal" work.

Not that this is a news flash, but we live in a VERY competitive culture. The normal/unique paradox is almost the catalyst of this cultural issue. It is the classic battle between nature and nurture. The drive to survive and blend-in against the social expectation that we are more than we may be able to be. Living constantly in the disappointment of ourselves. It's no wonder self-esteem in children is at an all-time low. It makes me wonder if "acting out" a way to satisfy this mysterious expectation.

And what about all those children who can never be "normal"...those who are living a more dramatically unique life because they were given to us that way? How do they fit in to this picture?

I honestly don't know what the solution is, if there even is one. I'm just troubled by the issue and wanted to shine some light on it. As a typical parent, of course I want my child to be normal in "all the right ways" and unique in "all the right ways", but more than anything I'd like to find a way to reconcile the conflict. It's may easier if we're normal, but can be more fun if we're unique.

And the winner is Emma...103.9! A close race, but the victor is the 2-year old with an immune system of a 82-year old.

The first place prize is a gold-plated sippy cup trophey with an 6 oz. bottle of Children's Motrin. Photos will be held in the winner's crib.

After spending a hunk of the morning with 2 gals decontaminating the playgroup toys against the Hand, Foot, and Mouth plague that is running rampant here, I thought it might be useful to have a quick brief on how to contain illness in the jet setting preschool populus.

In short, you can't! But it's always fun trying....your options are:

1. Have an argument about washing hands at least 6 times a day
2. Have an argument about not putting the aforementioned hands in the mouth at least 6 times a day
3. Have an argument about taking Tylenol 6 times a day when the previously mentioned options don't work.

• Remove clothing while child is in crib so as not to contaminate the rest of the room
• Remove child and clean-up child
• Lie child on a towel on the floor with pillow and blanket (if alone) or have partner hold child if you are the designated "cleaner upper"
• Remove bedding and place in washer with powder, but do not run it yet! This will not be your first trip to the laundry room. No need to waste water!
• Replace waterproof matress cover
• Put towel over mattress cover (bring a stack in the room while you are at it)
• Put crib sheet on top of towel (the towel will help reduce the number of waterproof matress pads you need. Usually, you'll have more sheets on-hand that matress covers.)
• If there is a pillow, wrap pillow in large towel
• Return child to bed
• Place empty landry hamper outside bedroom door.
• Go to bed, but don't go to sleep. Within about 10-20 minutes you'll be needed for Round 2.
• When Round 2 comes (and it will), remove clothes and clean-up child, as before
• Place child on floor in safe location, as before
• Remove crib sheet and any soiled towels and place them in the empty hamper outside the bedroom door.
• Place fresh towels on bed and pillow and put on a fresh crib sheet.
• Return child to crib (probably with drink)
• Take hamper of soiled linens to washer and this time you can probably safely run the machine. You don't want to leave the nasty items too long and you'll probably have to wash everything at least twice.
• Return hamper to outside bedroom door for Round 3.
• Got to bed, sleep lightly until 5:45 when you will finally pass out exahausted only to be wakened at 6:05 by your suddenly healthy little one who is raring to go.

In a bed:

This process is similar than in a crib, but requires more urgency as the potential damage can be more widespread. Be sure to brief your child on what he/she must do it he/she ever feels sick in the night.

• Call loudly for help-do not try to self-manage the situation
• Do not stand up (sit only)
• Do not walk unless absolutely necessary or you have enough warning to make it to the toilet
• Do not vomit on pillow
• Do not vomit on floor
• Do not vomit on favorite lovey or use the Clone Theory of lovey management
• Do not vomit on cat (or dog) (Learned the hard way, folks!)

• Respond immediately and with haste
• Be sure to respond to the scene clearly giving instructions that are loud enough to hear (e.g. "Do NOT stand-up" or "Do NOT puke on the cat.")
• Perform the same procedures required for children in the crib including the use of towels, hampers, washing machine, etc.