Below are the 18 most recent journal entries recorded in pinko_mommie's LiveJournal:

Wednesday, February 6th, 2008
4:18 pm	Guitar Hero I am probably only the ten millionth person to think this, but why am I wasting my energy playing a video game when I can be a real rock and roll star?  I am seriously inquiring into private lessons while the girls are at school.  I have always wanted to learn to play a musical instrument, and I am more excited about playing my favorite songs on an electric  guitar than, say, something kind of lame on the clarinet.  Besides, grrl rockers are sexy, and what mid-thirties stay-at-home-mom could not use a little more of that? (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Thursday, January 31st, 2008
8:32 am	Biohazard at the local Y Yesterday A's tooth came out.  It is  a normal part of childhood, and gap-toothed six-year-olds are poster children for cute.   But many people forget that it is something of a gore-fest, with bloody teeth hanging on by organic threads.  A's tooth started bleeding during Family Swim, and it was clear it was going to fall out within minutes.  Although little girls don't usually transmit HIV or hepititis,  still it is creepy to have one bleeding in the pool.  So we got out and went to the showers, where she continued to bleed because it still was hanging on (so gross).  I was hard-pressed to disguise my feelings of revulsion, but I can't let her see that because then she would freak out about it.  Then it bled onto the Y's nice white towels.  Then paper towels that A negilently dropped all over the place.  Finally she twisted it out, and was showing it off to the ladies in the locker room, who were very good sports about it.  I want to teach my daughter a lesson about Things People Find Gross, but she really can't help when her teeth fall out, and she was so keen.  So bleeding all over the Y is fine, but do not pick your nose, okay? (Comment on this)
Monday, January 28th, 2008
6:23 pm	Long story short Well, I guess after two years I am ready to make another entry. When last I was writing, I was extremely worried about A's development. I was insane with the pressures of parenting. Z was a toddler. Here is the rest of the story. ( Read more ) (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Thursday, February 23rd, 2006
9:01 pm	Shittiest Day of 2006 I submit my entry for Shittiest Day of 2006. ( Read more ) (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Saturday, May 28th, 2005
7:48 pm	Well, I am not sure about A. I thought it might be autism because she gets stuck in these Dora the Explorer re-enactments. But further reading about autism teaches that the kids have marked social impairment. A loves to play with other kids, especially her sister. And she seems to have normal intelligence (I used to hope for very high intelligence, but I would be thrilled with low-end normal). So my diagnosis du jour is that she has speech delay with intense emotions. I have no explanation for the Dora script. Well, actually, I will hazard that movies are a comfort for her. She sometimes asks for videos when she is upset. The land of make-believe is a soothing place for many people. Sometimes I just want to vege out in front of the tube. Doesn't everyone? Enough about A. How about Z? Just got her 9 month check-up and is doing well. And crawling to get` to the` key`````````````````````````board. more later (Comment on this)
Tuesday, May 17th, 2005
9:13 am	I am pretty sure A is retarded. There are lots of politically correct, sensitive terms for this: developmentally delayed, challenging, special needs, a little slow, late bloomer. I have sworn she will never hear this term from my mouth. But in my private thoughts and journal, she is retarded. And my heart is breaking! I am grieving the child I wished she would be. And I am at wit's end to care for her, and more to the point, control her impossible behavior. She has enormous tonsils, and she snores like an old man. One nurse thinks she is sleep deprived and this is causing her delay. Tonsils out and she will be cured. Too easy, I am thinking. I don't believe in simple solutions. And sleep deprivation does not explain her symptoms. I am waiting for an appointment with ear-nose-throat doctor. Last week I took her to the neurodevelopment clinic at Children's Hospital. The nurse practitioner there (the tonsil speculator) referred her for speech evaluation and therapy. I think it was the wrong clinic. This particular clinic looks for physical reasons for delay, such as genetic defect or brain damage. The clinic does not do cognitive evaluations. I spoke to A's usual nurse practitioner. We are next going through UW's clinic which will do an all-day, exhaustive study of A. Also, we are getting the public school to evaluate her. In addition, the paperwork is in for a speech and language evaluation through a local non-profit agency. I have high hopes for the public school system. They can connect me with a preschool for her. It might even be free. We are in an in-between stage. We know there is a problem, but not exactly what. I am eager for diagnosis so I can go to the next step of therapy and education. I also need to find a local support group of parents who understand what I am going through. Like I said earlier, she is unmanageable. I feel like this whole family is imprisoned by this three year old tyrant. She will not listen. She can follow instructions, such as bring me that pillow. But when I say stop touching your sister it is like she does not hear. I have to say it again and again and louder and louder, and finally physically remove her. Time outs do not work because she does not seem to understand why I put her in the chair. I might as well confess right now that I have spanked her. As abhorrent as this is to my attachment sensibilities, I would continue if I thought it did a bit of good. But of course it doesn't. Nothing that works for normal kids works for A. She is driving me insane with her misbehavior, and I don't know what to do. Poor Z is getting the short end, big-time. She is constantly pawed by her sister who simply does not understand the concept of personal space. A is very compassionate, but does not link smothering the baby with the baby's distress, despite my coaching. When Z is trying to nap A just won't shut up. Oh god! Z is falling asleep on the breast, and A wants to nurse. I explain that A will get her turn when Z is sleeping soundly enough to release the nipple. That she must be very quiet and then it will be her turn to nurse. Instead A screams that she wants to nurse, and wakes the baby. Now the baby is screaming, and no nap for anyone. No peace. Just a mother driven insane by the mutually exclusive needs of her children. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Saturday, April 16th, 2005
7:13 am	Warnings of Possible Delays I am worried. I have been worried for some time about A's cognitive development. I noticed about a year ago that her speech was below par for her age. About 6 months ago when she started preschool it became apparent that she does not understand things other kids her age can. I noticed that A had enlarged tonsils, so I made an appointment with her nurse practitioner. A virus, no big deal. While I was there the nurse and I got to talking about A's language, and she recommended speech evaluation. I asked her whether A is just a little slow, but the nurse remarked that her language is that of a 2 year old, not 3 and a half year old. I was concerned about this, and even filled out the paperwork for a speech evaluation, but did not send it in because she seemed to be improving, and the new baby had arrived, so my time and energy were at a premium. Now I wish I had gone ahead and got her in. Now I have to fill all that out again. I am also getting her evaluated for a developmental delay. The nurse has noticed that she is developmentally behind, but was waiting for me to broach the subject. I wish she had mentioned it earlier, because I have been concerned, thinking is it all in my imagination? What exactly is normal, and is she far enough behind to warrant intervention? Come to think of it, she may be emotionally delayed as well. She is extremely intense of emotion, particularly of sadness. This is most accute when separations occur, like when a playmate leaves. Even with someone she just met. And I may as well acknowledge that it is not normal for a three and a half year old to require so much nursing. It may not be so unusual for a 43 month old to resist potty training. When asked if she is a big girl, A replies that she is a big baby. Of course, much of this may be due to sibling rivalry. I hope that I can get an appointment for an evaluation soon. The medical assistant warned that the waiting list is three to six months long. That is a long time to be wallowing in uncertainty. God! What if my fears are confirmed, that she really is retarted? I must say that is very scary to me. This person I love will be limited, like her whole life will be one of frustration. And there is the very real fear of perpetual dependence on mom, and no golden retirement for pinko mommie once the kids are grown. Work work work up to and including the day I die. Please, please god, I don't want to home school! Prepare for some self-flagellation in the classic monastic style. I was on some woo-woo tofu earth mother medicine woman herbal kick when I was pregnant with A. I drank raspberry leaf tea every day. They say (In Wise Woman Herbal for the Childbearing Year) that it is a "uterine tonic." Fat lot of good it did me -- labor was excrutiating! I also suffered from insomnia, and took Calms Forte homeopathic pills which contain chamomile, passionflower, oats, and hops. Did I damage her brain? Also I took black and blue cohosh and primrose to induce labor when I became post dates. Then the epidural. Could it be teratogenic? Could my selfish need for sleep, pain relief, delivery, and woo-woo feminism have damaged my beloved child? I don't think so, but in my heart of hearts I can't shake the guilt. (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, March 11th, 2005
1:39 am	Oh, I am stuck again on the couch, shackled to the baby by my nipple. I am learning to make the most of it, browsing the internet and writing my journal. Z has picked up a very bad habit of biting me since her teeth came in. I am trying to stay a step ahead of her and prevent it, but sometimes she chomps down without warning. Four teeth, and more on the way. Aiyiyi, there is not enough lanolin in this world. The big news around here is that our kitchen and living room have been painted. We are very excited. We have been in this house a year and a half, and finally making it our own. A is going through a very clingy stage. She want to nurse frequently, and doesn't want to be dropped off at preschool. This morning she cried when I left. I am sure all the turmoil of painting is stressing her out some. She is increasingly jealous of Z. The other day she even tried to push her out of my lap. She has very deep feelings. I have begun reading a book called Your Highly Spirited Child. Some things apply to A, some don't. We shall see if it has any useful information. Last week I took A to a therapist for evaluation. My goal is to help her learn to cope with her intense feelings. That first session she just played and the therapist observed. It was kind of cool. There were all kinds of little toys and a small sandbox, and A was encouraged to play any way she wanted. Some of her play was about little dolls or animals getting stuck in the sand and being rescue by others. Lots of family stuff, mostly mommy and baby scenes played out by a collection of cows. When it was time to draw pictures, she was not interested in drawing pictures of her family, as the therapist suggested, instead drawing Winnie the Pooh characters. At home she draws people all the time. She is a very good artist for a three year old. Then she played in the blankets of the couch. It is kind of crappy to say so, but I was gratified that she cried when it was time to leave, so the therapist could observe an A sadness. The therapist and I will discuss this on the phone later. I am interested to hear her impressions. It was really cool how so many themes of A's life and feelings were literally played out in such a short time. How she likes to hide and be rescued, how she like to do the rescuing. How important closeness to her mom is to her, and how hard it is to leave friends. My liberation has progressed even farther. Saturday D watched both girls while I was gone for 3 hours for a dental appointment (more on that in a minute). Z survived, and so did D. Z has started eating baby food, so I did not have to worry she would get too hungry. Incidentally, I have begun pumping and storing my milk. My goal is to have an extended day (at the spa, of course) in a few months, with shorter outings in the meantime. Argh! My root canal has complications. I went in to the dentist to have the root canal started 2 weeks ago finished by crowning. It turns out that she didn't get all the nerve, because I have unusually long roots (why, oh why, could i not have long legs instead?). So she hacked away, then took an x-ray, then hacked, then x-ray. Still she could not get it all because it was calcified. So I have to go in later to finish the root canal, then another appointment to crown that, plus another appointment to crown last year's root canal. If it weren't for the nitrous, I might cry. By the way, nitrous is the shit! You feel really mellow and the high disappears in a few minutes when you are ready to drive home. If only you didn't have someone wrist-deep in your mouth it would be a very cool experience. (4 Comments |Comment on this)
1:39 am	Forgive me friends, for I have slacked. It has been a long time since my last entry. I will sing 5 Proud Marys. A great big thank you goes out to Mom, who is staying with us this week painting the kitchen. The walls are orange and the trim is green. It looks like the Oompa Loompa homeworld. We will spruce it up with Mexican style stuff. I think it will be very cool when everything comes together. I have a new look: pink and sparkly. This is a very big deal for me, because for the past 4 years my look has been pregnant and/or lactating. It is like I am coming out of hibernation. I used to pay a lot of attention to my creative side, and express it through my dress and home. I take this as a very good sign of my mental health, that I am ready to invest in myself again, and have renewed confidence. Limit to: (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, March 4th, 2005
2:39 am	I should be sleeping Or else Santa Claus will skip my house. Update on my dental situation: It hurts. It really really hurts. The dentist says all my nerves on the top right are dying. Because I clench my teeth. Because I am stressed out. I am paying attention to clenching, and trying to keep my jaw relaxed. Why oh why did I not wear my bite guard? And now I can't find the sucker. I thought it might be an infection, so I took one of my hoarded antibiotics. This particular antibiotic is zee hard-core for mastitis, and made me sick to my stomach. When I told my dentist about my treatment thus far, she said I was smart to start antibiotic as soon as possible. I felt gratified, particularly as I was expecting to be scolded for self-prescribing and not finishing the original prescription in the first place. I have been treating the pain with percoset left over from childbirth after-pains. Everyone knows you are not supposed to hoard drugs and always finish antibiotics, but my rebel ways serve me well in this matter. So while the drugs are kicking in, I thought I might give an update. Speaking of drugs, I have taken a massive dose of Martyr-No-More. This goes under the generic name "stupid-be-gone." I should be in a pharmaceutical ad wallowing in a field of daisies, my life has improved so. First of all, I switched A to that drop-off preschool. Wednesday was her first day. I just walked her there, saw that she was settled in, and left. No shit. Then I went for a walk, did a little shopping, taking plenty of time to browse, and even got my watch repaired. I could have been doing that this whole time. 2 and a half hours to myself. Well, just me and Z, and she doesn't mind being schepped according to my agenda. More later. The codeine is working its magic. (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, February 23rd, 2005
6:39 pm	Pity poor D. He married a Busald woman, and we are habitual furniture re-arrangers. It's the feng shui in our blood. Now we are back to 2 queen mattresses in the master bedroom and 1 king in the kid's. All on the floor, I am sorry to report, for it offends my furniture inclinations. The theory goes that A and D sleep in the kid's room. He puts her to sleep reading books, watching movies, bonking her on the head, whatever, it's not my department. I put Z to sleep by nursing her in bed, then sneak over to the other mattress after she falls asleep. The idea is that gradually the kids can sleep farther and farther away until each is sleeping in her own bed and I am sleeping in the Bahamas. (Comment on this)
6:46 am	joke Forget the middle class thing. The new straight line is "you might be a hard-core mother if. . ." your manicure includes a fingernail a little longer than the others to be used as a booger/earwax excavation tool. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, February 11th, 2005
1:39 am	Wow. My last entry stirred up a hornets' nest. I feel like I need to make a rebuttal. This is not really a blog. This is a journal, a chance to vent my particular feelings. In fact, I started writing in order to relieve the incredible stress I feel as a mother. It is not about criticizing anybody's parenting style. It is about me. Me me me me me me! As a matter of fact, It has taken me about 20 minutes to write that last 2 paragraphs, during which I nursed the baby, then the preschooler. Now the Z is on me again, and A is running about the house with the belt from my bathrobe. She has been wrapping it about her neck lately. So I am trying to feed one, while trying to exert my authority over the other one while I am more or less stuck in this position. In fact, nearly all my entries, as well as reading the blogs of friends is accomplished while some human is sucking my life away. Now Z is finished, but mostly naked after the water ballet of rub a dub dub 3 girls in a tub. I will dress the kids and take them on an outing, because all day in a house with the monkey vampire sisters will make me insane. Must pack a lunch. Must dress myself, too. I would have remembered eventually because it's cold outside. At least we are all clean. Outing has been postponed because Z needs a nap. I am stuck lying down nursing her to sleep. I hear water running. I hope A doesn't flood the bathroom again. My life is so hard! I wish I could say that I work from the moment I wake to the moment I sleep, but that just ain't so. I work overnight as well. I can't even eat meals without someone on me. And ditto for using the toilet. (later) Back from the outing. Gave A a little nursie. She pitched a fit when I had to stop in order to nurse Z. Wanna know how to unlatch an unwilling child? Do not break the seal or pull away, she will just chomp down and not let go. Squeeze her nose shut; she has to let you go if she wants to breathe. The first time I heard of that I was horrified. It seemed cruel. Now I acknowledge that nursing isn't all milky smiles and sitting in a rocking chair blissed out on prolactin. (much later) This is totally fucked up! Z is having her longest sleep stretch ever and tonight my insomnia is acting up. It's like some cosmic practical joke. Oh, why? Could be the perpetual cold I have had since A started preschool and I can't breathe properly. Could be the early afternoon cafe au lait. Could be A intruding on me just as I was drifting off and made me mad. I have tried reading, playing a word game, and 6 Calms Forte twice. What was I talking about? Oh, yeah, why I liked that article. I have utterly lost myself. There is no Tina, only mommy. There is no Dana, only Zul. My online persona is mommie, my business cards read "A and Z's mom." I am a work horse, or should I say cow? And I am suffering major depression. Before I started medication I was haunted by suicidal fantasies. Suicide! I was not a little put out -- I wanted to die! I am glad to say that I don't feel so desperate anymore, but I am still not well. The article reassured me that I am not alone. This incredible pressure I feel is not imagined. And I am not the only one using the new mother's little helpers to help me on my way to my busy dying day. Now Z is awake for her overnight nurse. More later. (3 Comments |Comment on this)
1:39 am	You heard it here first, folks I was in the bookstore to buy a gift for one of A's preschool classmates, birthday party at Big Inflatable Bouncy Thing Wonderland to commence in 5 minutes, when what to my wandering eye should appear but the current issue of Newsweek. The cover article is about how the supermom ideal is unattainable, the pursuit of which is leading a whole generation of mothers to major mommy burnout, not to mention clinical depression. In a follow-up article they even use the term I had thought I invented: ubermom. The article mostly focused on mothers employed outside the home, but the subject matter could be applied to stay at home mothers as well: women are sacrificing themselves in order to meet the needs, and often whims, of their children. The main article cited some social changes that must be made to stop this madness. Of course, available, affordable, quality day care for children of working mothers topped the list. But the list also included high quality available low cost preschool to give stay at home mothers a badly needed break. This was the first time I have ever heard mainstream America acknowledging that stay at home moms need and deserve a break, that we do real work and it is killing us. That shitty diapers, peanut butter sandwiches, pretend tea parties, fingerpainting, zoo outings, day in, day out, and overnight, is enough to make us nuts. That a walk in the park is not a walk in the park. The follow-up article was an editorial by Anna Quindlin. She made a point that resonated with me. Actually, I would call it an ephiphany. I read the sentence about 5 times. (I am paraphrasing because I loaned the article to another mom) "For stay at home mothers, motherhood has become professionalized. They have given up such great opportunities to stay at home with their kids that they must do the best possible job as mothers or else feel like they are squandering their lives." I thought Eureka (I have found the north pole!)! This is why I feel such pressure to perform the mad mommy mambo. I could be in medical school right now if it weren't for those little fuckers. So I am trying my best with the cards I have dealt myself. OK. Enough rant for now. On to lighter things. I am now officially a middle class mom. There should be a joke: "You might be a middle class mom if . . ." You keep a roll of gift paper in the car to wrap presents bought at the last minute on the way to a birthday party. (7 Comments |Comment on this)
1:39 am	sleepless in seattle A woke up crying about 3 a.m., a really urgent kind of cry. I thought, Oh, no, not the flu again! However, she did not vomit, like I was expecting. She just wanted to be nursed and held. I think this may be what is called the night terrors. Of course, the noise woke Z, who needed to be nursed back to sleep. I kind of held A tightly while I nursed Z, the when Z was asleep I nursed A. She did not fall back to sleep right away, but at least put up only nominal fuss while I held her. Now everybody is asleep but me at 5 a.m. It is too late to take my Calms Forte, so I guess I am up for the day. Parenthetically, the human reaction of fight-or-flight instinct has been put forth as the explanation for the dumping of adrenaline into the bloodstream during acute crises. I am assuming that the psychologists responible for this theory were not mothers. This is the same response which wakes a mother from a sound sleep to care for a puking child. But does the psychology establishment credit us with this important survival behavior? No it does not. Someone cared for them in the middle of the night, the ungrateful jerks. ( More behind the cut ) (3 Comments |Comment on this)
1:39 am	Both girls are sick, so today is a stay-at-home day again. Poor little Z sounds like Darth Vader as a suckling infant. Her nose is so runny it is hard for her to nurse. A never got colds as a baby because she did not have a preschooler giving her infectious smooches. Maybe we should adopt a policy like at Antioch University and request permission before kissing. A few mothers at preschool have been very supportive of me. One sent me a sympathetic e-mail, and the another took the time out of her 3-kid life to snail mail a sweet card full of encouragement. I take back calling them bitches. As I get to know more and more mothers, I realize we are all struggling in isolation and behind closed doors. Most everyone I know is in therapy or on anti-depressants. Prozac is the new valium, and mothers need their little helpers more than ever. ( More behind cut ) (Comment on this)
1:39 am	I am trying to take better care of myself. I had been putting myself low in the priority queue of the family. I feel I have become a workhorse. For starters, I am insisting that I eat my lunch before I nurse the girls for their naps. A pitched a fit at first, but she is learning to live with it. I have a right to eat! ( More behind cut ) (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, February 4th, 2005
9:36 pm	I am mad as hell, and I'm not going to take it anymore. Fuck you, Dr. Sears. Eat shit and die, Martha. Take a hike, La Leche League. And co-op preschool, you bitches piss me off! And A and Z: shut the fuck up. I tried to be EarthMother UberMommy. Instead I became total chump slave to my kids. Sometimes I hate those little fuckers. The zoloft is working well for my post-partum depression, but obviously I still have to address the underlying issues. Hence, this journal to relieve the stress. I haven't been coping very well. Mainly I assume the doormat position and sneak a swig when no one is looking. No, not booze, it's bad for my depression medication. I am swilling Hershey's syrup right out of the bottle. (5 Comments |Comment on this)