The No Cavity Club

The girls had their teeth cleaned today. Alyssa complained, asking why I always schedule the cleanings around holidays.

I reminded her that the last one was in April and nowhere near a holiday. She reminded me that the one before that was on Halloween. Whatever, kid.

I made the appointment for today because it meant that the girls wouldn’t have to miss any school.

So when did schools start being closed on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving? I know it’s been for as long as Alyssa’s been in school but back in my day (for the record, I know how old I sound when I write/say that) we went to school Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday during the week of Thanksgiving and had Thursday and Friday off along with the rest of the country.

Anyway!!! Alyssa is once again a member of the No Cavity Club. Go her.

Olivia…is not. Poor kid needs two fillings. One is actually not because of a cavity but rather because of a deformity in one of her newest molars, a crevice that will allow food (or debris, as the dentist said, which…makes it sounds like she stands outside during a tornado with her mouth open) to get trapped in there and cause decay. So they want to put some filling material in the crevice to protect the tooth.

The problem? Olivia is great during cleanings but actual fillings or other procedures don’t go so well. Her last encounter with the pediatric dentist who crowned one tooth and fixed another damaged tooth was horrible. She was a mess for hours after.

And this is the dentist our current dentist wants me to take her to for the procedure. Our current dentist is just a regular old dentist. He isn’t classified as a pediatric dentist. But his office is perfect for cleanings and check ups. But he doesn’t feel comfortable trying to fill O’s teeth given her history. He thinks she needs to be gently sedated.

I think she needs to be knocked out. But I’m sure the pediatric dentist won’t agree.

And so…I hesitate. I know she needs the fillings. I know this. But I also don’t want to put her through another experience like the one she had two years ago. Then again, I remind myself that she’s older, more mature and then I laugh at myself because, duh, she’s still only six (or will be when we do actually make it to the pediatric dentist.)

I know, I know. Suck it up, Mom. Deal. And Olivia will deal too. But neither of us is going to like it.

Up All Night

Olivia woke up with the sniffles yesterday morning.

Nothing major, no fever, but a little sinus congestion and some annoying snottiness.

I gave her a dose of medicine before taking her to my mom’s yesterday morning and she got another dose from my mom when she got off the bus. I gave her one more dose right before bed last night.

She woke up at 3 this morning, ready to rock. She was still sniffly but she was also wide awake.

I was not so much wide awake. But I did get up and take her to the bathroom, I too her wet pull up off of her and tucked her into my bed. I laid next to her, my back to her and tried to go back to sleep.

She tossed and turned and sniffed and rubbed at her nose. She asked for a tissue, repeatedly, insisting on handing me the used tissue every single time.

She asked me to hold her, which I did. She asked me to rub her back. Again, I did as she requested. Then, I told her I was tired and was done scratching.

I rolled away from her again.

She twisted back and forth. I told her if she didn’t stop moving around and go to sleep I was going to leave her in that bed and go to another.

She laid there for a few seconds before asking, “Mommy? Are you sorry for being so grouchy with me?”

Huh. Yeah, but no, not really. By this time it was 5am. My stupid alarm was going to go off in a half hour. I was so flipping tired. I just muttered, “You need to go to sleep.” (I usually apologize for any grouchiness in the middle of the night. I might get a little snippy but then I’ll tell her I’m sorry but I’m just really, really tired.)

She asked, “Can I snuggle with you?”

I rolled back toward her, put my arm under her shoulders, pulled her close and kissed her head. She asked me to rub her hair. I did.

She fell asleep ten minutes before the alarm went off.

Guess who was still sleeping when I left for work at 7:30 this morning?

Maturity

This morning Olivia woke at her usual 5:30 and requested that I go downstairs and get her Dream Lite for her. I told her it was at the end of her bed and rolled over. She found the light and proceeded to ooh and ahh over it for the next half hour.

At one point, she declared, “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. It’s just so beautiful.”

Okay. Cool. Now, shhhh, momma’s sleeping.

As I stepped out of the shower, I saw Olivia pick the pinkest of nail polish out of the drawer and put it on the counter. She saw my look and said, “Maybe we’ll just do this color on both hands.”

I glanced at the clock and told her I wasn’t sure we’d have time this morning because I had to take her to Grams. Tom has jury duty and so my mom is stepping in to do morning Olivia care.

O raised her eyebrows at me and declared, “It will only take a minute.”

She was right.

During the birthday party celebrating Olivia, Sabella and Jaxon, Alyssa watched in wonder and joy as the littler kids opened their presents. She loved helping Jaxon and Olivia figure out their Dream Lites (that spelling still bothers me) and their Stompees (ugh, another stupid spelling.)

Jason, my brother, mentioned later that he was really impressed with Alyssa’s lack of jealousy at not having any gifts herself.

I reminded him that it was actually NOT her birthday so she knew she wouldn’t be getting anything. Sort of like, duh.

Except…over the years my aunts, lovely women all, have gotten into the habit of getting small things for every child who will be at a party, whether they’re the birthday girl/boy or not.

And I find this irritating. Why do all the kids need presents just because the birthday child is getting one? Where did this come from? I feel like it just feeds into that sense of entitlement. I’ve worked hard over the years to remind my girls that some days are for others. That sometimes, we’re celebrating them and other times, we’re celebrating other people. And just because one person gets a gift doesn’t mean everyone gets one.

What do you know? It’s worked. Alyssa loved watching the other open their presents. She loved seeing the joy on their faces as they got the very things they wanted.

I think a lot of nine year olds can have this sort of generosity, if we teach it to them. But then again, maybe she’s just a really good kid with an amazing mom. Yeah, that’s got to be it.

The Party

For the last five years, we've had Olivia's birthday party over a week before her actual party.

This is because my cousin's daughter, Sabella's birthday is November 17 and my nephew Jaxon's birthday is November 19. The three kids were born almost exactly one year after the other times three.

Sabella turned seven yesterday. Jaxon will be five tomorrow and if Olivia had been born on her due date, she'd have turned six today.

But instead, her actual birthday is still nine days away.

We celebrate the three birthdays together because...it's fun and easy. It's cheaper too to rent a room when there are three familes sharing the bill.

My mom offered to have the party at her house today, so the only cost was food and, of course, presents.

The best present of the day?

Dream Lites, courtesy of Gram. Olivia got the purple butterfly, Sabella got the rainbow unicorn and Jaxon got the brown dog. They love them so, so much.

At one point in the party, all four kids (Alyssa was there, of course) disappeared. Jason came to report that he'd found them and was yelled at by Jaxon. He was told to close the door, the kids were trying to sleep with their Dream Lites (can I tell you how much it annoys me to have to type lights that way?)

It was a fun afternoon. I know that at some point these kids are going to want to have parties of their own but for now, they love being together, celebrating their days in one big ol' party.

Olivia's theme? Pink. Of course.

Winterized

Yesterday I sent Tom an email to let him know that I needed to got buy some unmentionables (bras, how's that for mentioning it?) and it would be lovely if I could do this task without the company of children.

He was cool with that.

However, this morning while doing our usual Saturday morning laundry and breakfasting, Alyssa asked when we were going to leave for Walmart and the library.

Now, I've admitted to being the meanest of moms but even I can't deny a child's request to visit hte library. Reading takes priority in this house.

So off we went.

Let me state that the library and Walmart are an 18 miles drive from home. Which meant that if I wanted to shop for bras alone I'd have to bring the girls home from town and then go back.

So...we went to the library. I fed them a nutrionally empty meal at McD's and we went to Meijer to pick up things for the S/O/J birthday party tomorrow. Guess what the O stands for?

We also bought a new coat for Alyssa and new boots for both girls. They're so happy with their winter outerwear.

Since they were so good at Meijer, I decided to tempt fate and took them to Kohl's with me to buy some new bras. I was down to my very last decent bra since the second to the last one blew a wire a few days ago while I was at work. You know how much that sucks? I spent several hours attempting to subtly adjust the two ends of the wire that were jabbing me in the left breast.

Yes, yes, blogging is absolutely the epitomy of too much information. Whatever.

But you know what else? They were pretty good at Kohl's and I got three new bras. Yay for me.

After that, we still had to go to Walmart and buy groceries. Ugh.

But now we're home and they're burning off energy in their usual ways. All's well that ends well and when I end up with three new bras with as little aggravation as possible, I'm calling it ending well.

Reading

As mentioned several times before, I try to read to Olivia every night. It was one of my resolutions last January and it’s one of the few (the only?) I’ve ever managed to keep.

The reason I made this resolution was because Olivia, at just over five years old was finally, finally willing and able to sit still and listen to an entire book in one sitting. We currently read three books each night and if I pause after the second book, she’ll ask when I’m going to start the third. I love that she’s aware of how many stories we’re reading and that she reminds me if we haven’t read the required amount.

We got to the library every single week and check out twenty-one books each week.

Last weekend the librarian who checked us out looked at our check-out history and asked if I was a homeschooler because of the enormous amount of books we check out each week.

I explained our routine and then mentioned that Olivia is one of the very few kids in this world who doesn’t like to hear the same stories over and over. She likes new adventures.

This morning, though, as I was gathering my things to leave for work, Olivia brought Tom a book we’d read the night before. She wanted to hear it again. I love that. I love that she’s getting to a stage where she wants to hear the same stories over and over. I know this is a phase that most kids hit around two or three years old but as always, Olivia is on her own schedule. And that’s okay. Today, that’s okay.

She has heard the book Pinkalicious a few times and it has yet to get old for her. In fact, when I read it to her this past Thursday, she giggled and then asked if we had any green olives. We didn’t, but we do not and she’s already eaten almost half the jar. Ahem, yeah, that’s a lot of salt for a 44 pounder.

Oh, did I mention that our visit to the doctor on Wednesday let me know that Olivia now weighs 44 pounds? That’s pretty awesome, isn’t it? I mean, that’s right there with typical six year olds. Wheee!

And this is starting to veer off on a few too many tangents…

Where was I?

Oh yes, reading and repetition. She loves hearing stories. She loves to look at the books after I’ve read them and trace the letters with her finger. She likes to tell me all the letters in the words. We’re pre-reading, is what I’m saying. And I couldn’t be prouder of my sweet, super-special snowflake.

Accidents

Olivia’s teacher has had to send me an email every single day this week. Some days she’s sent more than one.

Yesterday, she sent two emails and called me fifteen minutes before school let out. Olivia had had her third accident of the day and had no more spare clothes. Mrs. H didn’t want to put O on a cold bus in wet clothes.

I called Tom and he took clean clothes for Olivia and took her with him for the day.

When I got off work, I went home, picked up Olivia and took her directly to the doctor to check for a bladder infection.

These accidents are not normal for her. At least, not anymore. Yes, last year there were accidents aplenty but she’s a year old and has been doing so well and she even had two accidents at my mom’s between the time Tom dropped her off and the time I got there, which was all of 45 minutes.

So.

Bladder infection it is. And don’t I feel terrible about not taking her sooner? Except, well, let’s remember she had 5p- syndrome and thus, accidents are going to happen and if I run her off to the doctor at the first drop of pee in her underwear, well, let’s just say our flexible spending account would be dry before the first thaw each year.

Along with antibiotics to make her feel better, I sent a brand new tube of peppermint chapstick (‘tis the season) for her teacher to use as bribery, um, I mean a reward for each time Olivia uses the toilet at school instead of staying right there in her seat and peeing in her pants.

The last resort will be to send a pull up along with the three pairs of clean pants/underwear and having her teacher put that on her after the first accident of the day. I hate to do that, though because it feels so much like a step back.

These are the times I hate 5p- syndrome. I hate that I have to wonder if these accidents are the result of an illness or if her muscles are just too weak to hold the urine or if it’s a behavioral issues stemming from the missing part of her chromosome.

It is in moments like this that I am reminded that I would give her back that missing DNA in a heartbeat if that were an option.

I love Olivia more than York peppermint patties. I adore this child so very, very much. I think she’s amazing just the way she is.

But unlike other parents out there (who are NOT wrong, let me say that right here) who wouldn’t change their child even a little, I would absolutely give her back that part of her fifth chromosome.

Damnit, life is challenging enough without the added pressure of ‘special’ challenges. I hate that she’s going to deal with every day challenges while also taking on the world with less DNA than the rest of us.

It sucks and I know nothing can be done except to give her the tools she needs to work around this.

I would like to think it goes without saying but I’ll say it anyway; I would not trade Olivia for all the chromosomally typical kids in the world. I think she’s amazing just the way she is. But for her, for her own peace, if given the opportunity, I’d give her back her health. I’d take away her syndrome because 5p- does not define my child. Olivia would still be funny and sassy and girly and sweet even with all her chromosomes intact. She’d still dance and sing and do amazing forward rolls. She’d run and skip and maybe even ride a bike. She’d still be Olivia but without the challenges that 5p- brings with it.

Alas, there is no way to give her back what 5p- had taken away. So instead, I’ll continue to love her, to advocate for her, to fight for her to get all the help she needs to reach her greatest potential. And I’ll take her to the doctor and figure out what’s going on since she can’t always articulate what’s happening in her own body.

That’s what we do, we moms of typical and special needs kids. We love our kids to the tips of our toes and we do everything we can to make life just a little easier, a little better for our little loves.