Statements from Goober

This isn't a funny post in any way. If you're looking for funny, go elsewhere, because tonight my heart is heavy with guilt. Guilt over not giving my all to Goober, or Smiley, or Ears-(11 month old I watch on occasion). I've felt this way for awhile, pretty much since week 3 of the semester. I haven't voiced it for fear of looking weak, or pitiful, or playing the victim. But here goes:

I brought this on myself, I thought I could do it all but I have realized too late that I cannot. I cannot put the time, energy, emotion into my senior thesis and still have something leftover for Goober. Smiley hasn't been greatly affected by this as I spent a maximum of 2 hours a day with him. Ears hasn't been affected because I only watch her 3 days a week for 2 hours--and she sleeps for 1.5 hours of that. But Goober has been affected. That's what makes this so difficult to write. I know my faithful readers, and some lurkers, and even some stranger will probably write kind words and tell me that it's okay. That I'm not a horrible person. But I know all of that, and while those words are appreciated, they fall on deaf ears. No amount of words in the world will lift the pain I feel in my heart tonight.

You may wonder where I'm going with this. Well, 2 comments that Goober made to me really brought hte issue to a head. I KNEW I wasn't giving her my all. I KNEW I have been emotionally distant. I KNEW it would only get worse. But I was hopeful that maybe she wouldn't notice. Maybe she would just blow it off. Maybe she would be too involved with the social life of a 1st grader that my lack of effort wouldn't phase her. That, unfortunately, wasn't the case. Here are 2 comments she made to me, verbatim. They stabbed me like a knife:

"Maybe when I get back from my dad's we can start having fun again."

and

"Miss Jen, I think your heart shrinked like the Grinch cause I don't feel loved like I used to."

I will leave you with that while I head off to bed. Good night.

Weekend Update

Ignore the title, I'm too tired to be witty. For all those who care, here's an update on the insanity that is otherwise known as my life:

1. I have declared next week to be "Zombie Week." Why? Because I will be spending no less than 50 hours on campus next week. Next week is my official week to run participants through my experiment. 45 of them to be exact. One at a time. Each one takes 45 minutes to run. They are back to back for 8 hours every day. Which leaves me with 15 minutes in between to set up the experiment for the next participant. In my tired-beyond-belief state I forgot to schedule a lunch & dinner break. Crap. Add that to the things I should've done differently list I guess.

2. I have to go grocery shopping. Though I'm not sure how much sense that makes, due to my lack of lunch and dinner breaks next week.

3. I need to do laundry tomorrow. It isn't even a "oh wow, I should do laundry this weekend." It is, "I'm wearing sweatpants, haven't worn socks in 3 days, and have been wearing tank tops even though it hasn't gotten above 40 all week." To my credit, I have been wearing sweaters over my tank tops. However, each of those sweaters has been worn a minimum of 3 times. As a side note, I have 7 sweaters. If you do the math, that's at least 21 days since I've done laundry. Yep, 21 days. But hey, at least I shower every day--which reminds me....

4. The store is another place I NEED to go. Body wash as shampoo just isn't cutting it anymore.

5. Speaking of cuts, I need a haircut. It's been over a year since I've had my hair cut. Yeah, a year. Can we say "split ends"?

6. Goober is gone next week, it's her spring break so she's going to her dad's. Hence the reason I took the entire week-(sans lunch and dinner breaks)-to work on my senior thesis for 8 hours a day. But there's one thing I forgot....

7. I've still got Smiley next week. Double oops. Sure there's time for me to watch him, as college students seem to have this thing with participating in experiments before noon and I watch him in the morning. Yep, way to plan that one out Jen.

8. Planning. Not my forte right now. Given that I ran out of sheets last week I've been sleeping on the couch. I have this thing with sleeping on a bed without sheets.

9. As far as sleeping goes, I've been sleeping on the couch for the past 10 days. Call it laziness, or extreme tiredness, but either way, the couch is my bed right now. Found out something interesting though....the couch is WAY more comfortable than my Sealy mattress. My $1000 Sealy mattress. Go figure.

10. Yes, I do have a $1000 Sealy mattress. No, I didn't buy it. I inherited it I guess. When my grandma moved into my parents house in um...2002, she "needed" this mattress. Then she died, and the mattress was stored. Then I left my ex and moved out, realized I didn't have a bed, and got the mattress. I don't have a frame for it, or box spring, or anything like that. Maybe that's why it's not comfortable. *shrugs* Either way, I don't like the mattress anymore.

Goobers

And here's the Gooberettes-(her nickname for us)

Easter Bunny Conversations

So Goober and I had some enlightening conversations about the Easter Bunny yesterday. Let me just say, some of the things that came out of her mouth made it very hard to keep a straight face. Enjoy.

"I don't think the Easter Bunny is a real bunny. It's just a guy dressed up in a costume."

"The Easter Bunny uses snowshoes to get around without freezing his paws off."

"Maybe he'll stop at your house to say hi to his friend."-(I have a netherland dwarf rabbit)

"He makes all the Easter candy and then sells it to Wal-Mart. Wow he must be rich."

"You're not a kid, but you're not an adult, so I don't know if you're gonna get anything from the Easter Bunny."

Happy Easter!

Pressure Cooker

I feel like I'm in a pressure cooker, with no way out. There is a light at the end of the tunnel, but there's an ironic side to it. The irony is that the closer the light gets, the more pressure I'm under. People keep telling me to take a day to myself, to get a massage, to relax, to *fill in the blank* but I can't. I can't because taking a day off adds to the stress. The stress of my senior thesis, working for 3 families, and taking 3 upper level classes in order to graduate. The stress is getting to me. And by getting to me, I mean:

1. Nightmares. Every night I have at least 1 nightmare about my senior thesis. About something going wrong, about participants showing up, about not supporting my hypothesis, about participants walking out of my experiment, thus leaving me with incomplete data.

2. Crying. I have cried over my senior thesis, over not giving myself 100% to the kids I watch, over not completing school.

3. Eating. I either eat like crazy, or I don't eat at all. I go through phases. 1 of those phases is to eat and eat and eat. Not healthy stuff though, oh no. Comfort food. The other phase is when I don't eat at all. This week I haven't eaten anything but granola bars, jolly ranchers, and diet coke. Next week, who knows.

4. Sleeping. Sort of like the eating thing, it's all or none. I either sleep 10-12 hours and sleep through the alarm, or I lay awake worrying all night and don't sleep for upwards of 30 hours. The problem is after 30 hours of awake time I'm overtired and find it impossible to go to sleep.

5. Pain. Every muscle in my body hurts. My stomach burns all day long. Headaches every day.

So, the pressure cooker ends on May 3rd. Just over a month until I reach the light. A month of stress, pressure, fear, worry, sleepless nights, binges, not eating, pain, nightmares, crying, and whatever else decides to creep up during this time.

If you read all of this, thank you. I'm just venting, getting things off my chest, trying to de-stress. Trying, but not succeeding. Adding to the cycle. I'm not happy, I barely smile anymore, I don't even enjoy spending time with the kids that I love so much I would lay down my life for them. I've struggled with depression since I was 13, but this....this is a new low that I've never felt before. I will make it, one day at a time. It's getting through those days that is the problem.

Coffee

It's 3:40pm and I'm finally getting my first cup of joe. I was going to forego the coffee today, opting for cheap Faygo diet cola instead. But 60 ounces of pop later I'm no more awake than I was 6 hours ago. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I worked last night, and this morning. Or maybe it's because I am STILL fighting a cold after 3 weeks. Or maybe, just maybe, the stress surrounding my senior thesis project has gotten to be too much.

No matter how you look at it, it's the middle of the afternoon and I have another 5 hours before I'm done with work. Which works, because I've already been here for 5 hours.

I'm going to go enjoy my coffee now!

Medical Terminology

It's Olivia time! I was talking to Bone the other day and he was asking about Olivia's medical problems. So, for all your curious/medical people out there...here is the birth defects going on in Olivia's little body:

1. Aortic Coarctation-Coarctation of the aorta is when the aorta has a very narrow area or segment like in an hourglass. Blood pressure increases above the narrow spot and the left ventricle has to pump harder because the pressure is high. The heart may enlarge from this extra work.
They did a small surgery using a catheter to open up the aorta a little bit more. She will need full open heart surgery when she is 6 months old.

2. Tracheoesophageal fistula-A tracheoesophageal fistula (TEF) is an abnormal connection between the esophagus and the trachea.
She had surgery to correct this and now has a feeding tube through her nose.

3. Esophageal Atresia-The esophageas ends in a blind pouch instead of connecting to the stomach.
She had surgery to correct this as well.

So, now an update:

Olivia has been off the vent for awhile now but yesterday she stopped breathing for a short period of time. Thankfully she began breathing again on her own. However, if this continues to happen and she has to go back on the vent, they will do the open heart surgery ASAP. They've been waiting for her to get older and stronger before attempting open heart surgery. In the one month she's been alive she's already had 2 surgeries and multiple minor procedures done on her so they are hoping that she does not need open heart surgery for another 5 months.

Olivia Timeline-in Pictures

First the stats: Olivia Marie was born on full term on February 11th by emergency c-section weighing 6lbs. 4oz. Here's the first picture of her taken 6 hrs. after she was born:


She had IV's in her hands, 1 in her head, and 1 in her foot. This picture was taken on February 16th when both her hands were free!



On February 17th, Olivia opened her eyes for the first time!


On February 25th, Olivia turned 2 weeks old. Here's a full body shot from that day.



Olivia's chest tube was removed on February 29th. Here's a picture of her without her chest tube, you can see the bandage on the side closest to you.


March 5th is when they took the vent out!!!

And finally, on March 7th, Olivia was able to wear clothes for the first time.

Language

The subtleties of the English language can be hard to pick up. I'm not talking about people who speak English as a second language, I'm talking about kids. As evidence of this, I bring to you Goober's latest trouble with the English language. Let me set this up for you:

Me: My ears are plugged with fluid so I have trouble hearing you when you're in the other room.

30 minutes later

Me: Goober come here please

*silence*

Me: Goober!

*silence*

I go find her.

Me: Hey, I've been calling for you.

Goober: Oh sorry. My head must be plugged with ears.

Memories

I've spent the majority of my spring break scrap booking. I sorted my photos, got everything ready, and began pasting the photos onto the pages. About 1/2 way through the 2nd book it hit me: the memories.

The memories of high school, college, boyfriends, friends, family, and kids. All of the memories were good, as is often the case with pictures. Pictures of bad times aren't often taken and my pictures are no different. They're all of happy times, of fun, games, and togetherness. Then I realized that my best memories are not of high school, college, boyfriends, friends, or family. No, they are of the kids. The kids I have had the pleasure to spend the last 8 years working with. The kids who I watched grow up, watched as they maneuvered through various stages, watched as they cracked their first smile, rolled over for the first time, learned to crawl, and took those first tentative steps into toddler hood.

Those are my best memories. The scrapbooks are just a way of putting them down on paper. I have a tendency to write on every page of a scrapbook. Write about the pictures, the events leading up to them, the events after. Telling a story if you will. I'm finding that the pages filled with writing are those pages plastered with pictures of children. Sure I have stuff written on the pages where pictures of my friends, family, and boyfriends are pasted. But those pages don't have the sincerity in the writing like the pages of kids do.

I have truly been given a gift. A gift to work with children, a gift of parents entrusting me with the care of their children, and the gift of a camera. But these gifts are bittersweet in a way. The children grow up, the families move, the camera breaks, the parents no longer need my services. Then comes the dreaded time when the children no longer remember me. They don't have the memories I do. They don't know my face, my name, my voice. They were too young when I cared for them to remember me. It was hard the first time that happened to me. But it is a fact of life when you work with young children. At least, when all is said and done, I have the memories. Memories that I hope to never forget, but if I do, I will always have the pictures and words written this spring break of 2008.

Questioning my Sanity

Maybe a better title would be "questioning my ability" but that sounds a bit too serious and I want this to be a light and funny post. So with that said, onward to the next paragraph my faithful readers!

"Don't let the baby play with plastic bags" -- Heard that one last week from a 1st time parent who I had never babysat for prior to that day. I had multiple sarcastic comebacks running through my head but managed to keep those to myself and just say "OK." The questioning my sanity part? I said "OK" when somebody told me not to let a baby play with plastic bags. I probably sounded completely unintelligent and clueless with that response. She hasn't called back for babysitting...probably for the better though. Wouldn't want to accidentally give her kid a paperclip and show the kid where the outlets are. She never warned me about that :)

"Whatever you do, don't shake the baby" -- Again, multiple sarcastic comebacks here but I bit my tongue and managed with a very weird look to the mother. And no, this was not the same lady as above, this was a different mother.

I know there's more, but those are just to 2 most recent ones. They both happened last week. It was weird. I'm used to parents saying stuff that sounds....odd...but I usually joke about it with them if I've babysat for them before. Call it mommy brain if you will, but generally they don't mean to say it exactly how it sounded. These 2 were kids I had never watched before. But it makes me wonder if I look completely incompetent as a child care provider or if I just come off as irresponsible. But on the other hand, if parents feel they need to tell me THAT kind of stuff, maybe they shouldn't be leaving their kids with me. Hmmm...quite the conundrum batman!

Breaking the Rules

I was bad last night. I probably deserve a time out. But I really don't feel at all guilty about what I did, in fact...I feel like I did the right thing. Here's the deal:

Smiley's mom called me last night and asked if I would babysit Smiley so she could go out again. Yeah, sure. No problem. So I show up, Smiley is up, hasn't slept all day, blah blah blah. He had just eaten 4oz. and she told me not to let him eat again for 2 hrs. and the only let him eat 4 oz. at the next feeding. Okay, whatever--no big deal. She leaves, and Smiley starts trying to nurse on me, his hand, basically anything he could get ahold of. I gave him his pacifier but that didn't work. He kept spitting it out and going for my boob. He's not breastfed anymore, but he was for 3 months. I look at the clock, 1 hr. too early for him to eat. *sigh* So I managed to hold him off for another 45 minutes and then fed him 15 minutes early. But this isn't the breaking the rules part. The breaking the rules part is this:

He sucked down the 4 oz. bottle in about 10 minutes. After he finished that, he was again sucking on anything he could get his hands on, and going for my boob. So I did a bad thing. I broke the rules. I made him another bottle, and he drank 2 oz. of it before nodding off to sleep. And you know what happened then? He slept, and slept, and slept some more. He didn't wake up for another bottle 2 hrs. later, he even lost his pacifier while he was sleeping and he didn't wake up--which is unusual for him. Generally when he uses his pacifier he wakes up right away and screams bloody murder.

So, yeah. I'm bad. I need a time out. I asked her why he's only allowed to drink 4 oz. at a time, and why only every 2 hrs. Her reason? "I don't want a fat baby." Okay, yeah. Now I REALLY don't feel at all guilty for giving him 6 oz. My opinion is let them eat/drink as much formula/breast milk as they want. He's 3 1/2 months old for crying out loud. Granted yes, he was born at 6lbs. 14oz and 18.25 inches long and is now 12lbs. 7oz & 25.5 inches long, but seriously---why limit the amount he can eat?

I understand that there are certain situations where you need to limit how much they eat at one sitting. I've watched kids where there's a medical reason for them to only eat a certain amount at a time. I just find it hard to watch a kid who is OBVIOUSLY still hungry and deny him food when there's no medical reason to do so.

Anyways, you parents out there can bash me all you want. I'm not watching your kids so it won't affect you. I just needed to vent a little bit about my frustration. I mean, "I don't want a fat baby" is not a good enough reason for me to deny an infant food. Sorry, ain't gonna happen.

My Saturday Night

*Note* Charge will from here on out be called "Goober" and Charge's cousin-(my boss's nephew) with be called "Smiley."

As a college student, I don't fit the stereotypes. I don't fit the nerdy stereotype of studying all the time, always having things done way ahead of time, always setting the curve. Nor do I fit the partying stereotype of partying every weekend, sleeping in late, and rushing to get everything done. I'm somewhere between the 2. I rush to get assignments turned in on time, but it's not because I party. I rush because I procrastinate. But all of my stuff is always turned in on time and I set the curve in my classes more often than not. Which brings me to my Saturday night.

My Saturday night involved 5 drunk parents a 3 kids. Said parents were all going out for a night on the town. 3 kids were Goober-6, Smiley-3.5 months, and Other Kid-18 months. I get there and parents are all drinking. Kids are all up, at 9:30pm. Yay for fun times. Other Kid was laid down by his mom before they left, Goober was laying on the couch watching a movie, and Smiley was sitting on his mom's lap.

Smiley's mom started this conversation with me about psycho dog. "Check this out Jen." I watch as she yells at the dog. "See how she bows down to me?" I nod. "That's how you deal with her, she doesn't do that to you. You can't be all happy with her cause then she doesn't bow down to you." I nod again, and stop listening. This conversation came out of nowhere, I had just walked in and the dog greeted me in her usual psycho dog way. I just shrugged it off, petted her, and then pushed her out of the way so I could get through the doorway. I usually don't have a huge problem with psycho dog. She gets really excited for about 5 minutes after I get there and then she settles down and lays at my feet, or goes and finds a toy, or brings me her beloved neon green ball. I've just come to accept that she's gonna be psycho for the first few minutes. I let it pass and then all is good.

Commotion is abundant after this conversation. Goober climbs up in my lap, Other Kid is screaming upstairs, Smiley is spitting up, parents are all talking at once, but not to me of course. Heaven forbid anyone talk to the babysitter about the kids she's gonna be watching. My boss fixed that with "Just let them do whatever." Yeah, that helped. So glad you told me that, I might've like--forced them to scrub the floors or something without that piece of advice. I ask, 3 times, when Smiley last ate. Smiley's mom just keeps talking to me about the dog and how incompitent I am at dealing with her. Okay, whatever. Other Kid's mom actually gives me some useful info. How to get him back down if he wakes up.

Parents all leave. Other Kid is screaming upstairs, Smiley is spitting up, and Goober is wanting my full attention. Goober says something that gets my attention: "Smiley has a bad cold and he hasn't slept since lunch time." Oh, great. Thankfully Goober is there to tell me the info that apparently none of the other parents thought was important enough to tell me. She also tells me that there's 3 bottles in the fridge for Smiley and 2 sippy cups of juice for Other Kid. At this point I'm somewhere between thankful and frusrated. Thankful that Goober is sharing this information with me. Frustrated that a 6 year old is having to tell me this.

The rest of the night went on...chaotic...but I made it through. I got Other Kid up for a little bit because he was having a freak out, Smiley was T-I-R-E-D but wouldn't sleep, and Goober laid on the couch. After 30 minutes I took Other Kid back upstairs to lay him down with the promise to Goober that I would watch the movie with her when I got back downstairs. Up to that point, I really hadn't had a chance to spend any time with her due to the 2 under 2 thing. So I come back downstairs and she's passed out on the couch. So much for quality time. Smiley was lying on his blanket, sucking on his hand and psycho dog was, well...I wasn't really sure.

I took Goober upstairs and laid her down. Heated up a bottle for Smiley, which he didn't want, walked with him for an hour before he finally crashed at 11:30pm. 11 hours and 30 minutes since he last slept. Cripes, how does he do it???? Then it was off to find the dog. Apparently the 5 drunk parents had let her out in the yard when she left. Usually not a problem, except that she hopped the fence. Great. So there I was, at midnight, calling to a dog that wasn't even mine, not being able to leave the yard because of hte kids inside, and probably pissing off the neighbors. She came back, and was promptly yelled at and put in her kennel. Yeah, I have no idea how to handle a dog. *rolls eyes*

Smiley woke up at 1 for another bottle, sucked down 7 oz. and fell back asleep. Drunk parents came home at 3. Then I got to be a chauffer. I made it home by 3:30 for 2 reasons. 1: None of the parents wanted to know how the night went and 2: Nobody was talking to me. So, I got home at 3:30 after dropping Smiley and his mom off at their house.

So, that was my Saturday night. Not quite what one would expect for a college student. But it is my life, and I wouldn't trade my night with 3 beautiful-(albeit cranky) children for the world. :)

Heelys & Babies

Charge has wanted Heelys since school started. Turns out 2 kids in her class have them. Don't know what Heelys are? Here's a picture:

I'm completely against her getting these. So is her mom. Apparently, her dad isn't. He bought them for her. This is also the man who bought her 5 Webkinz because she "needed" them. He also let her buy $100 worth of accessories for her Webkinz because, again, she "needed" them. So now we're onto the Heely battle. I made it very clear to her, before she even got these, that she would NOT be allowed to wear them when she was with me. I feel that they are dangerous and I don't want to be the one sitting with her in the ER and calling her mom at work to tell her about the broken arm/concussion/random injury that her daughter has because I let her wear her Heelys. Charge threw a fit over this. Stomped up to her room and wouldn't talk to me for over an hour. In her words, I'm mean, don't want her to have any fun, and I'm the worstest babysitter ever. Oh yeah, she hates me to.

Now for the baby thing. I'm getting that baby fever again. No idea why. I'm working with 2 infants right now, one is 11 months old and the other is 3 1/2 months old. You think that would be enough to curb the baby fever, but no. I feel like there's a piece missing in my life by my not having kids. *sigh* I don't know what to make of this, or how to make it go away. The baby fever thing just comes on out of the blue and it is STRONG. Stronger than any other pull I've ever felt before. Stronger than the pull to work with children even. It's kind of scary, because I can't stop it, and I have no inkling of when it's going to show up. But when it does show up, it seems like it takes forever for it to go away, no matter what I do.

That's my update for Saturday. Thankfully my spring break is next week so I'm just going to be working and doing homework. Oh yeah, and going on a much needed trip to the grocery store, Wally World, doing laundry, and cleaning my house.