Ducky Diaries: April 2014

Monday, April 28, 2014

Hell House

This past week can go UCK-FAY itself!  
 
No....  Seriously. 
 
When it rains, it pours, shit, on your forehead.  This is a fact.   
 
What started out as a four day weekend from work for me, ended with me calling and begging my boss to let me come in. I offered to just come and work off the clock. I was that desperate to get away from my house and littles. 
 
Well, one Little to be precise. 
 
One crazy ass Little. 
 
We started out the week with her top two teeth pushing through (they are still NOT through).
 
Then we got a fever.
 
A three day fever that stayed well over the 103-104 degree range. 
 
By the third day I was fairly confident I knew what it was. 
 
I was exhausted by this point.  3 straight days with the clingiest, screamiest, clingiest, screamiest, cligiest.........
 
GET AHOLD OF YOURSELF! OMG! THIS CHILD! SHE WILL KILL ME!!!!
 
I was a mess, she was a mess. No one was sleeping! 
 
So anyway, by the 4th day I decided to take her to the doctor just to make sure she wasn't harboring an ear infection like it was a criminal.  The whole drive I kept repeating, "where the frick is the rash! where is it!!!???  this is madness!!! Maybe it is an ear infection minus all PLAUSIBLE symptoms just to BAFFLE my already crazed mind....?" ....
 
But as soon as I pulled her out of the car seat at the doctor office I noticed a tell tale pink rash spreading rapidly across her forehead and behind her ears.
 
OH HELLO ROSEOLA!
 
Where the hell were you an hour ago. 
 
I decided since we were already there we might as well just get a confirmation and make sure there was no ear infection or other surprises.
 
I was right. 
And I did manage to give the nurse a good laugh.
I was a little puzzled when she came into our room with the giggles and stated that 'mom must be tired'.    Apparently, I filled out my own personal information on Zo's paperwork.
 
Mental illness- Anxiety (check)
Past UTI- (check)
Last menstrual cycle- 4-10-14 (check)
 
I guess 11 month olds aren't supposed to have menstrual cycles???  
 
But here's the best part of all of this, the fever and rash are finally gone.  YAY!? Right? right??!??  RIGHT!?!?!?!?
 
Nope. No yay.  Zo has gotten so accustomed to having mommy at her every beck and call for a solid week.  So now, I'm dealing with a straight up diva.   I'm talking temper tantrums to the extreme at the drop of a hat.   Kicking feet, arms crossing, screaming "Na. Na! NA!!?!??? (An 11 month olds version of No?)", head swinging in the distinct "No" pattern when she refuses everything but being held.  
 
I am exhausted to put it mildly. 
I was going to attempt potty training the boy this week but, now I have to undo all the crap from last week and get Zo back into napping in her crib and you know quitting this hellish spoiled screaming. 
 
 
 





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Friday, April 18, 2014

Mom Brain


Is that applesauce or boogers on my pants?  I think it's applesauce.    Actually home made applesauce.  Because I am a badass.  Hear me roar!   Betty fuckin Crocker!  That's me. 

But it could be boogers.  

My pants are awesome.   I love these pants.  Too bad they're pajama pants.  I wonder if someone would look at me funny if I wore them outside?  Star spangled hot pants...  Cha cha cha!

Because that is how I roll.

Why does Bear have Zo's binky in his mouth?    Why does Zo have Bear's binky in her mouth?  Wtf is wrong with my children.  That is disgusting.   Whatever.  They're happy. Who am I to judge? 

Where are Zo's pants?   I swear child! 

They were both dressed this morning.   I'm not sure what happened. 

I should probably take the tote of summer clothes up to the kids room and hang it all up.    I was supposed to take it up to the children's closets yesterday.  Why did I not do that.  Oh yea, because I was running late for work.   Oh well, what's another day, or three? 

Why is there a ripped up baby wipe all over the floor?  Search for the culprit......

Bear.... You sneaky little devil.  

Oh well, he's smiling, and there's no blood.  He's happy, I'm happy. 

Mmmmmm this freakin coffee is delightful.  Thin- Mint creamer.  I could kiss the creator behind this shit. 

I should probably do the dishes some time today.   Maybe replace the burnt out bathroom light.... 

Decisions, decisions.... 

What's that smell? 

Is something burning?

What's burning?

Shit! 

What's in the oven?!?! 

Aww fuck, there goes dinner.  

 photo cooltext1292211702_zpsc9a335dc.png
If you like what you just read please click to send a quick vote for me on Top Mommy Blogs- The best mommy blog directory featuring top mom bloggers Don't forget to check out our "Exceptionally Special" page and "Tot Spot" for tips, tricks, and tidbits for the kiddos.

Monday, April 14, 2014

Protect the warrior

 
You have a child with special needs. 
 
You are your child's warrior. 
 
This is not a question, but a fact.
 
You refuse to accept any accolade.
 

ac·co·lade

noun
1. any award, honor, or laudatory notice: The play received accolades from the press. 
 
2. a light touch on the shoulder with the flat side of the sword or formerly by an embrace, done in the ceremony of conferring knighthood.
 
3. the ceremony itself.
 
You refuse to accept any accolade, assistance, support, because you are just doing "what you have to".   Day in and day out. It is just life.  Your life. Your child's life.  You don't have time for a break. You have to fight. You have to keep going.
 
Your child doesn't have a voice so you need to be that voice. You need to be loud, swift, and unafraid.
 
There is no other choice.
 
And so you go and go and go forward, ever pushing forward.
 
Fighting, talking, reasoning, rationalizing, refusing to compromise for any less than what your child needs.
 
If you're anything like me, you're subsisting on coffee and a stray hot dog slice chased with a cheese curl.  And when you're feeling especially frisky, dinner is a Pepsi or an iced coffee.
 
Sound familiar?
 
Are you failing to protect your body?
 
A warrior cannot fight with a damaged body. 
 
A warrior cannot fight with a damaged mind. 
 
In complete honesty I need you to ask yourself. 
 
"Who are the members of my support team?"
 
How many people can you name? 
 
Do you trust them?
 
Can you share ANYTHING with them?
 
Do they help ease your burdens when you are overwhelmed?
 
As special needs parents, we fail daily. 
 
We fail to protect the most integral member of our child's team.
 
We're failing to protect ourselves.
 
The Warrior.
 
The Warrior needs their army.
 
 
 
My plea to you is to protect the warrior.  Get rest, fuel your body, meditate, go on a walk, take a break, most importantly, have a support team.  It is vital.   Talk to them.  Allow them to help.  Do not stand in their way and assure them that "I got this!".  Even if you do, you deserve a moment of peace.  
 
I literally cannot say it enough.
 
Support, support, SUPPORT TEAM.
 
You need one! 
 
You, Dear Warrior, need your army.
 
You will not win your fight without them.
 
 
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Sunday, April 6, 2014

Living in a capable world.


This highchair.....  

To most, is just a regular restaurant style highchair. They are pretty much a staple at any dining establishment.

Not many people give it much thought outside of the fact that Jr. is licking the germs of it's surface. Which is scary.

However, for me, us, my family, my son, this chair is a nightmare.  

With it's flat, non contoured, hard structure, loose middle strap, and waist straps that are broken 99% of the time, this chair decides where we may take our family when we decide to venture out of the house.  

Let me paint a picture. 

My husband and I keep Dycem sheets stashed everywhere, including our car.   What is Dycem?
Well it's a non-slip sheet of material that we often have to use to keep Bear from sliding off his own bum.  It helps a lot of children with muscle tone issues maintain there balance when seated. 

So when we venture to an establishment that may have said high chair we take our trusty Dycem grip sheet and lay it in the seat of said chair.   Then D.i.c. and I work together, one holding Bear up in the air while one folds and contorts Bears stiff legs to get him into the seat. 

Within 5 minutes we are out of breath and have just about half the patrons staring at us. It's quite the spectacle. No one ever seems to know what to think....  Are we beating him?  Is he throwing a tantrum?  Are they forcing that poor child into his chair?  Who knows, am I rite!?

Don't even ask where Zo-Zo is and what she is doing during this time.  For about 30 second intervals I couldn't even tell you.  Thankfully she usually captures an elderly couples attention at a nearby table and is therefore occupied while we defeat the dragon known as "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! OMG! JUST HELP ME STICK HIM IN!?  GET HIS FEET?!  OMG! HIS LEG! DON'T BEND IT THAT WAY?!!?!?  DAMMIT!!!  EFF IT!!!!  JUST GET HIM OUT!!!  MCDONALDS IT IS!!! HE'S IN!!!! WOO!!!  FINALLY. WHERE'S THE OTHER CHILD?!??!".......

After that we frantically try to adjust the lap band and strap him down before he scoots his entire ass off the seat and tape and is dangling, middle strap crushing his little boy bits, hands gripping the bar for dear life....

 Back and legs completely straight and locked. Which renders our attempts useless for about another 5 minutes while we again re-adjust him in the seat.

 And then for the rest of the meal we take turns lifting him by the bum and readjusting him back into the seat  to keep from repeating the above scenario.  While holding our knees against his knees to keep him from sliding out. 

It's mucho fun.  We get lots of eating and enjoying done on these trips. 

NIGHTMARE.   

Luckily, we have found a small number of dining facilities that offer the wonderful Rubbermaid brand of high chairs with contoured seating, high backs, trays, safety belts, and WHEEEELSSS!!! HUZZAH!  

We frequent these places a lot.  They are wonderful.  I would kiss the management(s) all of them if I could.... 

 Sometimes, unfortunately it's not an option to end up at these places.

I know it must costs eating establishments an arm and a leg to switch from these outdated wooden chairs to nicely contoured Rubbermaid highchairs with high backs and actual trays that work with any and mostly ALL children's body types or conditions (roughly a $100.00 increase) but I wish they all would. It would be $100.00 well spent in my opinion so that every family may enjoy an outing.

Special needs parenting rant #2

 Play grounds.  

Dear whoever creates the blueprints and designs for community play grounds,

I'm happy to see that you are finally recognizing that EVERY child should be able to enjoy your facility, regardless of their abilities or inabilities.

However, when you only have one handicap swing available, set on it's own mulch pile, separated and segregated completely from the park........  You're not nailing it.  At all.    I'm just saying. 

And F.Y.I.  our children......  

Love to do more than just swing.

Here's an idea.  How about we add a sand area with multiple levels or tables that ALL children including ones in a wheel chair can reach and enjoy. 

Maybe a set of parallel bars, on the ground for children working on walking skills.

Wheel chair ramps to and from certain areas.

Or what about a nifty little dome or cave that ALL children can walk, crawl, or wheel into.  Add a wall of chimes or cowbells, maybe one of those large swivel tic tac toe boards that are all the rage at parks.

Why are we not automatically making ALL parks handi-capable?


I know it's easy to forget about our children, but you shouldn't.  They are important. They matter. 

This silent notion that we should keep them home locked away from the world is as outdated as wooden restaurant style highchairs and playgrounds only made for typical children. 

Help a momma out.


Sincerely,
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