16 August 2008
Agreed
Brains must regenerate over time. Sarah Katherine has now asked if we would split the cost and not only would she pay half but she won't complain about babysiting the other children for a whole month! She's given me half the money and I'm going to make sure the backpack is a visual reminder so she doesn't complain (at least much)!
Brain Deterioration
We have smart children. I know we do because I've seen their IQ scores and they do fairly well in school. But try to reason with them about something that they "need" and right now and all of a sudden I think I should requesting a CAT scan to determine the amount of brain damage.
Two nights ago we were having our first family dinner in several weeks. All six of us were there and it was going well UNTIL Sarah Katherine brings up that she would like another backpack. I should probably stress the another because in her closet there are no less than 6 perfectly good ones in various shapes, colors and patterns. Well the chorus begins with "me too" "me too". The low roar becomes louder as we hear things like, "my notebook will no longer fit in this one" "I've had this since kindergarten" (look how well you've taken care of it I want to add), "mine's babyish" (I did remind Caroline that she was carrying the same one her cousin in middle school carries so it cannot possibly be babyish). Chris proclaims, "We are not buying another backpack." The low roar erupts like a stadium about to do the wave--and there voices were resonating. So I decided to have a moment of maturity (it didn't last long) and address each individually. I asked Sarah Katherine why she needed a new one. "well she said, I let everyone sign this one because you said last year I could get a new one this fall." I do not remember saying that; however, having just moved here and trying to help her feel comfortable, there is an outside chance I did. Chris, being less than mature, says "well she takes it back!" Sarah Katherine just kept repeating but you said but you said (proof of brain deterioration). Because Christopher is 2 years younger his brain has had less time to rot so he tries another route. He goes to get his sling back backpack and shows me that his notebook doesn't fit. At this point we must digress one year.....
Last summer literally 3 hours before we are to reboard a plane for England we went to target. Sarah Katherine found a pink messenger bag that she'd been "dying for" ($40) and Christopher found a slingback for another $40. At the time I said to Sarah Katherine who was about to start secondary school--perhaps you should wait until you start school to choose one. You usually want what others are carrying. She insisted that this was going to be it. This time Chris was the indulgent one and said just get it for her. Christopher stated his case and I distinctly remember saying to him, it's not going to hold much. But again, Chris was feeling generous and said fine you can have it. For the record, Sarah Katherine has carried the messenger bag 3 times. Back to this week
William jumps up and says he's dying for a slingback so Christopher gives it to him and we remind Christopher of the very nice LARGER backpack in his closet. This quiets him and all is restored in his life. I think we are progressing although there is continual back ground music singing over and over "but you said" Now William and Christopher are both happy or at least content and for whatever reason Caroline's orange backpack with a daisy on it is once again cool. They all leave the table and the chorus gets louder.
I tell Sarah Katherine who has oodles of money right now, "You are more than welcome to buy your own backpack." Her brain has definitely gone into meltdown because she begins to shout that it is our job to buy her what she needs for school, she doesn't want to spend her $50 on a backpack and on and on. She decides at this point to remind us that we don't pay her for babysitting our children (I chose not to remind her that none of us get paid for being in the family and I certainly don't get paid for laundry, meals and scrubbing toilets.) Chris has had enough. I have to say one of the things I love about Chris is he is usually laid back and levelheaded which is great for me who is dramatic and definitely gets on the preteen level more times than I should. But he has had it. I watch the color of his face turn from a lovely suntan hue to a sweating red. He's trying to stay in control and it is taking all he has. I can tell he's trying not to say something but for the life of me I can't figure out what it is so there is no stepping into save him--he's better at the saving and I'm better at the losing control. He's trying but Sarah Katherine is now standing and waving her arms about pointing out things wrong with her backpack. I truly am trying to salvage this family dinner so I turn to Sarah Katherine and say, "I've seen lots of girls at your school carrying backpacks that look just like yours." "No they're not", she shouts, "mine is land's end and they're all LL Bean. I want that one." There is no longer control in Chris--I think his head might pop off and he does what we try so hard not to do brings up money. We don't want our children to feel guilty for money we spend on them but he's lost it so he not so gently reminds Sarah Katherine of the tuition we pay each month for school of the thousands we put into ballet, of the sacrifices we make. I now have absolute proof that preteens brains are mush for as this list of financial burdens finishes, Sarah Katherine turns to us and says "then what's fifty dollars more?"
Two nights ago we were having our first family dinner in several weeks. All six of us were there and it was going well UNTIL Sarah Katherine brings up that she would like another backpack. I should probably stress the another because in her closet there are no less than 6 perfectly good ones in various shapes, colors and patterns. Well the chorus begins with "me too" "me too". The low roar becomes louder as we hear things like, "my notebook will no longer fit in this one" "I've had this since kindergarten" (look how well you've taken care of it I want to add), "mine's babyish" (I did remind Caroline that she was carrying the same one her cousin in middle school carries so it cannot possibly be babyish). Chris proclaims, "We are not buying another backpack." The low roar erupts like a stadium about to do the wave--and there voices were resonating. So I decided to have a moment of maturity (it didn't last long) and address each individually. I asked Sarah Katherine why she needed a new one. "well she said, I let everyone sign this one because you said last year I could get a new one this fall." I do not remember saying that; however, having just moved here and trying to help her feel comfortable, there is an outside chance I did. Chris, being less than mature, says "well she takes it back!" Sarah Katherine just kept repeating but you said but you said (proof of brain deterioration). Because Christopher is 2 years younger his brain has had less time to rot so he tries another route. He goes to get his sling back backpack and shows me that his notebook doesn't fit. At this point we must digress one year.....
Last summer literally 3 hours before we are to reboard a plane for England we went to target. Sarah Katherine found a pink messenger bag that she'd been "dying for" ($40) and Christopher found a slingback for another $40. At the time I said to Sarah Katherine who was about to start secondary school--perhaps you should wait until you start school to choose one. You usually want what others are carrying. She insisted that this was going to be it. This time Chris was the indulgent one and said just get it for her. Christopher stated his case and I distinctly remember saying to him, it's not going to hold much. But again, Chris was feeling generous and said fine you can have it. For the record, Sarah Katherine has carried the messenger bag 3 times. Back to this week
William jumps up and says he's dying for a slingback so Christopher gives it to him and we remind Christopher of the very nice LARGER backpack in his closet. This quiets him and all is restored in his life. I think we are progressing although there is continual back ground music singing over and over "but you said" Now William and Christopher are both happy or at least content and for whatever reason Caroline's orange backpack with a daisy on it is once again cool. They all leave the table and the chorus gets louder.
I tell Sarah Katherine who has oodles of money right now, "You are more than welcome to buy your own backpack." Her brain has definitely gone into meltdown because she begins to shout that it is our job to buy her what she needs for school, she doesn't want to spend her $50 on a backpack and on and on. She decides at this point to remind us that we don't pay her for babysitting our children (I chose not to remind her that none of us get paid for being in the family and I certainly don't get paid for laundry, meals and scrubbing toilets.) Chris has had enough. I have to say one of the things I love about Chris is he is usually laid back and levelheaded which is great for me who is dramatic and definitely gets on the preteen level more times than I should. But he has had it. I watch the color of his face turn from a lovely suntan hue to a sweating red. He's trying to stay in control and it is taking all he has. I can tell he's trying not to say something but for the life of me I can't figure out what it is so there is no stepping into save him--he's better at the saving and I'm better at the losing control. He's trying but Sarah Katherine is now standing and waving her arms about pointing out things wrong with her backpack. I truly am trying to salvage this family dinner so I turn to Sarah Katherine and say, "I've seen lots of girls at your school carrying backpacks that look just like yours." "No they're not", she shouts, "mine is land's end and they're all LL Bean. I want that one." There is no longer control in Chris--I think his head might pop off and he does what we try so hard not to do brings up money. We don't want our children to feel guilty for money we spend on them but he's lost it so he not so gently reminds Sarah Katherine of the tuition we pay each month for school of the thousands we put into ballet, of the sacrifices we make. I now have absolute proof that preteens brains are mush for as this list of financial burdens finishes, Sarah Katherine turns to us and says "then what's fifty dollars more?"
09 August 2008
Because he was chicken
I woke up yesterday and for the first time in weeks we had nothing planned until football run throughs at 6 pm. The weather was a bit cooler, no humidity, and the children were getting along. It was going to be a perfect day. Sarah Katherine was sleeping in for her last week of summer and the other three children went out to ride bikes. I was alone, drinking coffee, reading the paper, catching up on laundry and getting showered--all at a very leisurely pace.
I looked out the window and saw Christopher carrying the skateboard ramp down the street. "Taking it to the dog park", he shouted. It never occurred to me to ask why--mistake number one. Twenty minutes or so later Caroline and her friend rush into the house to tell me that William is hurt. "Is there any blood?" "None at all" they both respond. Relief floods over me (mistake number 2) and we walk over to the dog park. William is sitting on the grass and he tells me his neck and head hurt. I ask what happened and Christopher responds for him, "He was riding his bike down that hill and went up the ramp. It was so cool Mom he did a one and a half!" Where's your helmet, I ask. Caroline chimes in, "we weren't wearing them because we were on grass." [For anyone counting, you will realize that the true mistake number one was me not going outside to make sure they had on helmets. It never occurred to me they wouldn't--it's a cardinal rule in our house.] Having experienced several broken bones with the children, I think to myself "I need to make sure he can move his neck" Here ends my counting of mistakes because as most people know you NEVER move a neck injury. But--I did and he could move it although he was clearly in pain. I check him over and find no obvious injuries minus a scratch on his chest. "Let's go home" I say. And, yes, I let him walk with no help from me.
Somewhere between the five houses we had to pass I do decide that I should just check in with his pediatrician, so I come in and call. The nurse answers and as soon as she hears he landed on his head without a helmet she calmly but firmly says, "Hang up and take him directly to the emergency room. Take him only to the children's hospital. We'll call ahead and let them know you're coming." I interrupt to tell her that he seems fine because he can move it. I'm very certain that she rolled her eyes and thought about the idiotic woman who would move her injured son's neck, but God bless her, she just said, "Please do not allow him to move it again."
We get to the ER (after scooting around numerous one way streets) and wait our turn. The receptionist seemed very nervous about the patient in front of us, so I thought to myself she must be really sick. They swoop her back and put a hair net thing on her and then start disinfecting everything. You see, her father brought her in for lice! (I tell you this as proof that I was not the craziest person there!) They look up, see us and clap a collar on William's neck without a word. Obviously the nurse from the doctor's office has called ahead and warned them about the crazy mother who moves her child's injured neck.
The doctors come in, examine William and decide he needs neck and chest x rays. This takes a bit of time but remember I had nothing to do that day anyway. The good news is there are no broken bones; the bad news is they can't be certain of ligament damage for 7-10 days. At this point they tell us he has to stay in the collar without taking it off for even a bath. The reality sets in for William and he realizes that he won't be playing soccer for at least a week if not more. He begins to cry. The doctor was fantastic and gently explains to him all the things that could go wrong if he reinjured the neck. It seemed that William understood because he calmed down (meanwhile I am thinking about just having him in a padded room for the next week) William's calmer so the doctor begins to lecture him on wearing a bike helmet. I must admit I am feeling a bit guilty and defensive--it probably showed as every time he paused to breathe I would insert, "I always make them wear it but I didn't see them get the bikes out today" After I said this for the third or fourth time I realized that what I was basically saying was, "I always make them wear a helmet when I bother to come outside and check on them instead of sending them out to play so I can read the paper and drink coffee in peace." This epiphany shut me up!
The doctor turned back to William (I think he thought if he didn't make eye contact with me I would be quiet) and asked him why he rode his bike down a very steep hill onto a skate board ramp without a helmet? "Well", says William, "my brother Christopher wouldn't do it." "Why not?" says the doctor--I think we were both thinking that he was going to tell us because he was dared or Christopher said it was too dangerous. William smiling proudly replies, "He was too chicken."
I looked out the window and saw Christopher carrying the skateboard ramp down the street. "Taking it to the dog park", he shouted. It never occurred to me to ask why--mistake number one. Twenty minutes or so later Caroline and her friend rush into the house to tell me that William is hurt. "Is there any blood?" "None at all" they both respond. Relief floods over me (mistake number 2) and we walk over to the dog park. William is sitting on the grass and he tells me his neck and head hurt. I ask what happened and Christopher responds for him, "He was riding his bike down that hill and went up the ramp. It was so cool Mom he did a one and a half!" Where's your helmet, I ask. Caroline chimes in, "we weren't wearing them because we were on grass." [For anyone counting, you will realize that the true mistake number one was me not going outside to make sure they had on helmets. It never occurred to me they wouldn't--it's a cardinal rule in our house.] Having experienced several broken bones with the children, I think to myself "I need to make sure he can move his neck" Here ends my counting of mistakes because as most people know you NEVER move a neck injury. But--I did and he could move it although he was clearly in pain. I check him over and find no obvious injuries minus a scratch on his chest. "Let's go home" I say. And, yes, I let him walk with no help from me.
Somewhere between the five houses we had to pass I do decide that I should just check in with his pediatrician, so I come in and call. The nurse answers and as soon as she hears he landed on his head without a helmet she calmly but firmly says, "Hang up and take him directly to the emergency room. Take him only to the children's hospital. We'll call ahead and let them know you're coming." I interrupt to tell her that he seems fine because he can move it. I'm very certain that she rolled her eyes and thought about the idiotic woman who would move her injured son's neck, but God bless her, she just said, "Please do not allow him to move it again."
We get to the ER (after scooting around numerous one way streets) and wait our turn. The receptionist seemed very nervous about the patient in front of us, so I thought to myself she must be really sick. They swoop her back and put a hair net thing on her and then start disinfecting everything. You see, her father brought her in for lice! (I tell you this as proof that I was not the craziest person there!) They look up, see us and clap a collar on William's neck without a word. Obviously the nurse from the doctor's office has called ahead and warned them about the crazy mother who moves her child's injured neck.
The doctors come in, examine William and decide he needs neck and chest x rays. This takes a bit of time but remember I had nothing to do that day anyway. The good news is there are no broken bones; the bad news is they can't be certain of ligament damage for 7-10 days. At this point they tell us he has to stay in the collar without taking it off for even a bath. The reality sets in for William and he realizes that he won't be playing soccer for at least a week if not more. He begins to cry. The doctor was fantastic and gently explains to him all the things that could go wrong if he reinjured the neck. It seemed that William understood because he calmed down (meanwhile I am thinking about just having him in a padded room for the next week) William's calmer so the doctor begins to lecture him on wearing a bike helmet. I must admit I am feeling a bit guilty and defensive--it probably showed as every time he paused to breathe I would insert, "I always make them wear it but I didn't see them get the bikes out today" After I said this for the third or fourth time I realized that what I was basically saying was, "I always make them wear a helmet when I bother to come outside and check on them instead of sending them out to play so I can read the paper and drink coffee in peace." This epiphany shut me up!
The doctor turned back to William (I think he thought if he didn't make eye contact with me I would be quiet) and asked him why he rode his bike down a very steep hill onto a skate board ramp without a helmet? "Well", says William, "my brother Christopher wouldn't do it." "Why not?" says the doctor--I think we were both thinking that he was going to tell us because he was dared or Christopher said it was too dangerous. William smiling proudly replies, "He was too chicken."
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