Two weeks ago on Saturday we ended up in the emergency room with our 9-month-old daughter. She had a cold for a few days, but on Friday when I picked her up from the sitter she had a 102 temperature.

By Saturday afternoon, my daughter’s temp had spiked to 104.6. And Tylenol wasn’t working anymore. We took our sons to my mom’s and the baby to the ER. Three hours and a chest X-ray later she was diagnosed with an ear infection and upper respiratory infection.

By Monday, my baby girl was fever free. Of course, Tuesday was her routine check up at the pediatrician. (It never falls on the day the kids are actually sick, does it?)

We told the doctor about her illness, the antibiotic the ER doctor prescribed, etc.

"What did they say was wrong with her?" he asked.

We told him. He checked her out. When he looked in her ears he said, "I don’t see how they could have even diagnosed that with all the wax build up in there."

Huh?

So here’s the gross part. How do you remove a young child’s ear wax? Or shouldn’t you?

My kids seem to grow carrots (that’s what we call them in my house) in their ears by the bucket full. I don't understand it. My children are clean. I use carrot sticks (That’s what we call Q-tips in our house) to clean the outside part of their ears after baths.

Anyone else ever notice this? Do you know why kids have so much ear wax? Are you supposed to do anything about it, or not?

-Marci

Winter boots for $6.99.

Winter coats for $12.99.

Snowpants, sweaters, fleece pullovers, winter pajamas -- all for 70-80 percent off.

For the last few weeks, the winter clearance aisles have been full of bargains. I peruse the racks knowing I should stock up for next year, but my heart and head just aren’t in it. I am so absolutely sick of shoving snowpants into our hall closet; why would I purchase extra pairs? And I am so tired of buckling puffy-parka-ed children into their car seats that new winter coats are the last thing on my mind.

Alas, the bargains go to smarter shoppers who can predict what size their children will be in next year and buy now at rock-bottom prices. I am not one of those smart shoppers. I can barely guess what shoe size my youngest will be this Easter, much less next fall.

Are there any parents out there who are actually organized enough to purchase mittens, scarves, hats, gloves, boots, coats and other winter essentials for next year?

Oh, and while we’re talking about closets (impressive segue, I know), here’s a quick tip courtesy of my husband: The next time you need a chip-clip for the dozens of open snacks in your pantry, head to your child’s closet. If your house is anything like my house, you have dozens of unused children's hangers, many of which came with the bottom half of a two-piece outfit. My husband read somewhere to recycle the clips used on children’s pants- and skirt-hangers. Just break them off the hanger and bring them to the kitchen. Sure enough, they’re perfect chip-clips – and free. It’s a simple idea, but one that hadn’t occurred to me. Our pantry is a fresher, neater place. Anyone else with tips to share?

We hear it all the time: Every child is different. But yet, there are so many "helpful" developmental milestone guidelines. It's been fun to watch him discover things about the world around him and himself (ooh! I've got hands!), but it's also hard not to compare him with those lists... or other children.

What are some of the milestones you remember? The first time your child smiled at you? How old was she when she rolled over or crawled? Did you worry about when he would reach them?

Due to technical issues we had to repost this blog entry. People's initial posts are pasted below:

(5) Comments

Posted by: HSmom on February 20, 2008 10:47AM EST

When I had my first child, I was anxious for him to learn to sit up by himself. He had just turned 7 months old and I was thinking he was a little late reaching this milestone, when he finally did sit up. That very afternoon, I went to get him up after his nap and he was STANDING up in his crib!! I guess sitting was WAY too boring for him. After that, he seemed to be early with everything.

The little guy I am caring for now is a week away from being 7 months old. He crawls all around, can sit, can go from sitting to crawling and then back to sitting, can stand and even walk around if I hold on to his hands. He waves and babbles. If you saw my blog the other day, he pulled himself up for the first time last week.

My niece, however, had leg braces on for a few months, so she didn't crawl or even sit until she was more like 8-9 months old.

Posted by: Cheers on February 20, 2008 10:57AM EST

I wouldn't say I was 'worried' really. but sometimes I wonder if she (now 3) is where she should be. But it does seem to go in spurts like the other poster described. So, I dont think it makes any sense to worry. I just know that once my daughter could sit...she was MUCH happier and the "colic" seemed to disappear. :)

Posted by: cyndi on February 20, 2008 11:10AM EST

My 16 year old dd was a 33 week preemie, so I always 1/2 wondered if she would be a little slower in her development....

I got a little nervous when she turned 1 and wasn't walking, but the girl spent soooo much time in her sling and I suppose she figured "why bother?" After a while I started to get the impression that she was purposely not walking 'cause she didn't want to (who wouldn't like being carried around all day?), and sure enough, at 13 months, she forgot herself one afternoon and jumped up and ran after a group of kids she wanted to play with and then stopped suddenly, knowing that I was watching and the jig was up-- she walked *perfectly* after that.

Stinker!

She's been pulling little tricks out of her hat ever since;-)

Posted by: Stinky on February 20, 2008 11:22AM EST

As a father who's kids are now in high school let me say that you need not worry about whether you child develops at the same pace as the "guidelines" for other kids. My wife started walking at a remarkably early age. That didn't make her better/smarter/healthier/stronger than other babies her age. MY MIL still brags about how early she walked but I can't see how it makes any difference at all. Now that my wife is 43 nobody has ever come up to her and remarked what a great walker she is. :)

My son never did crawl. He just rolled everywhere he wanted to go until he started to walk. That didn't hinder him at all in his development, he is now 6'5" and 250lbs and seems to get around just fine.

Enjoy every moment of his development and discoveries. Don't place too much importance on whether he is on pace or not. Even if he is a bit late, he will catch up and never be able to tell the difference.

My suggestion- if you havn't already done so.

Buy a journal and write all of those little things down. When my kids were small, a friend and I would talk a couple of times a week about the funny things our kids did/said and laugh at all the stories. I wish to God that I could remember those stories but I can't. I would love to go back and refresh my memory and pass the stories along to my kids but I can't.

So I tell every new parent that I encounter not to make that same mistake.

Posted by: HSmom on February 20, 2008 11:31AM EST

That's a great idea, Stinky.

I'm sure you've heard this many times before and will continue to hear it many more times - but seriously, they grow up SO fast - you really have to savor every moment and enjoy it for what it is.

The mother of the little guy I'm caring for now was complaining a little about how squirmy he is when she is trying to change his diaper and just trying to hold him or put him into his car seat. I reminded her of how it wasn't very long ago that we were all looking forward to when he would be able to roll over and then learn to crawl - we have to remember to be happy and enjoy this time when he is able to squirm around - to be able to crawl and be more independent, even though it can make caring for him more of a challenge at times.

This is why some people choose to call the Terrible 2's the Terrific 2's - it is all the way you choose to look at it. The kids become more independent which is wonderful, but it just makes our jobs as caregivers that much more difficult. :)

My mom -- who is a very wise woman and an outstanding mother to three now-adult children -- always says the same thing about my baby/toddler days. I’ve heard it a thousand times: “Elizabeth, if you were my first child, you would have been my last.”

Apparently I was not an easy child. I was colicky, finicky, picky, clingy, persnickety and pretty much all things -ickety. I didn’t sleep well. I bit my older sister. I did things like throw my orthopedic shoes out the car window on a mountainous Pennsylvania highway at age 2. I threw tantrums like no child she had ever seen. Once, during a particularly vicious fit, it took her two hours to drive the 12 blocks home from Storyhour because I kept getting out of my seat, climbing into the front seat and grabbing the steering wheel.

And when it came time for me to go to school, I cried so loudly and clung so ferociously that she enlisted a friend to take me to kindergarten and first grade. I can remember to this day being buckled into somebody else’s back seat against my will, screaming for my mother as we pulled out of the driveway.

My older sister, of course, had been a perfect baby -- the only thing that convinced my mother to gamble on a third child. My easy-going, always-happy, “I-took-him-to-the-pediatrician-because-he-never-cried!” baby brother was her reward for the years she had to deal with me.

So when I had my first baby 5-1/2 years ago, and this baby ended up being more like me than I would have preferred, my mother was very supportive. She relieved me on mornings that I hadn’t slept all night. She nodded with recognition at my tales of woe. She bit her lip to keep from laughing at the first few tantrums. And because she’s a good mom, she didn’t revel in the karma/justice of it all. At least not while I was in the room.

I am now the mother of two fabulous daughters -- one 5-1/2, one 3-1/2. But I knew from the first week with my first baby that she would be my Difficult Child. She was my karma. My own Mini Me.

 

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Two nights ago, the baby gave me a great gift: He slept from 10 p.m. to 5 a.m. Straight through, no wake-ups for diaper changes, nursing or lost pacifiers.

Last night I so wanted the same thing.

We went out for an early dinner after work, then headed home. By 7 p.m., he was ready to eat. I fed him, we played for an hour, and then he fell asleep.

8 o'clock. Baby's asleep and I'm ready to watch some television. Within 20 minutes, I'm asleep, too.

I wake up about midnight, when my husband comes back in from shoveling snow. He helps me get the bassinet ready: preparing the swaddling blanket and making sure there's a pacifier or two at the ready.

I lay the baby down gently, so he doesn't wake up with the position change. I swaddle him up, and he's still sleeping, eyes closed, what a sweetie.

We back away.

Still sleeping.

And then... pop! Up go the eyelids. His blue eyes scan the room, focusing on us.

But instead of a cry, a whimper or squirm, his face breaks into the biggest grin possible.

I walk up, replace the pacifier, stroke his face between his eyes, and back away again.

Another grin.

And another.

And another.

I look at my husband.

At least he's not crying. I go pick him up, and bring him back to the living room, where after five minutes of snuggling, he's fast asleep again. This time, the transfer from arms to bassinet goes perfectly.

We have a sleeping peanut, sweetly breathing in and out in the dark room.

Two hours later, I realized I made a mistake. I should have fed the little guy when he woke up at midnight. 2:30 a.m., and he's soaked, hungry and screaming. I change him, feed him and he's back asleep. I, however, am wide awake, and it's after 4 when I finally get back to bed.

One night, tons of sleep. The next night, not so much. But I wouldn't have traded the sleep for the smiles.

So I admit it: I rolled my eyes when the press release first came across my desk. “High School Musical -- The Ice Tour.” Are you kidding me? I thought. Who on earth is going to pay $15 a seat or more to see a faux-Troy and faux-Gabriella spin around on ice skates???

After all, my daughters spend way too much energy already talking about Gabriella, singing like Gabriella, pointing out people who look like Gabriella. And while my almost-6-year-old likes the Disney characters, my almost 4-year-old LIVES the characters. She names all her dolls Gabriella. She wants to go to Albuquerque to find Gabriella. She will only jump into a pool if she’s pretending to be Gabriella (who works as a lifeguard in “High School Musical 2”).

She’s got two singing Gabriella dolls and one singing Troy doll, who end up naked in the Barbie Hot Tub Party Bus far more often than I’d like. (Of course, she’s too young to realize how inappropriate this is -- she just can’t find the dolls’ swimming suits -- but I want to shout: “Get some clothes on those dolls or everybody’s out of the hot tub! NOW!!”)

So no way was I going to take my impressionable young daughters to an over-hyped, over-marketed, over-priced ice show. No way.

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My 9-month-old is becoming quite the princess. It doesn’t matter that her vocabulary is limited to Mama, Dada, babbles and screeches, she makes her wants and needs KNOWN in no uncertain terms.

All she has to do when she wants something is put up her arms, bare her two lower teeth (the only teeth in her head), and cry. And, of course, my 6 and 4-year-old sons happily oblige. They hand over toys, the remote control, stuffed animals, blankets, the telephone. They’ll do anything to make her happy.

One day when I was out of the room for a minute, I came rushing back in at the sound of her crying. She was sitting on the family room floor, surrounded by toys, weeping.

"What happened?" I asked my 6-year-old.

"She took my glasses off my face," he said.

"Did she hurt herself with them?" I say, rushing to her side.

"No, I just took them back," he said, with a worried look on his face like I might actually be upset with him for taking his glasses - the ones he needs to see - away from his baby sister.

May I add, before I get clobbered for being a lousy parent, that my husband and I do NOT encourage this behavior. In fact, we spend a lot of time telling our boys to keep the matchbox cars, paper books, chocolate chip cookies - and anything else that is dangerous or that our daughter could destroy - away from her.

We also don’t give into her, which is probably why her rants only last about 1 minute. Then she’s back to giggles and pulling her socks off.

You see, despite her rather sometimes noisy demands, my baby girl is quite good. She laughs easy. She eats EVERYTHING and usually goes to sleep without fuss.

So I was a little surprised and worried a few weeks ago when she cried continuously after I put her to bed for the night. "Maybe she needs her diaper changed," I thought to myself, because there really couldn’t have been anything else wrong.

I went upstairs, plucked her out of the crib and laid her on the changing table, as she continued to wail. I opened her diaper, which was fairly dry and slipped it off. That’s when I saw it roll out from her pajamas: a pea leftover from dinner.

After wrapping a new diaper around her bottom and zipping up her pjs, I set my baby girl back down in bed. She grabbed her fluffy and favorite pink blanket, rolled to the side and shut her eyes, finally content.

"My God," I thought, "My princess was bothered by a pea."

-Marci

Three months ago, when my husband was going back to work, I was overwhelmed with the constant duties of caring for our newborn son. In some ways, I envied his return to work. He didn't have a crying baby, the demands of almost-constant feeding, total sleep deprivation or baby poop to deal with.

There were days when it was all I could do to manage to eat one meal and take a shower between 9 a.m. when my husband left for work and 5 p.m. when he came home. All I wanted when he came home was a few minutes without a kid attached to me.

Now, I’m the one heading to work in the morning, leaving the boys home alone. I’m glad we’re able to have this extra month of full-time, at-home care for the baby. It’s made returning to work a bit easier. I get to see that our son can survive without me, at least for eight hours a day. Next month, I’ll get to see that he can survive day care.

Leaving the house last Monday morning was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. And I was leaving an 11-week-old baby with his dad while I went to work 10 minutes away from home. That day, as I drove into work, my heart went out to every mother who’s ever had to leave their baby, especially those who have had to do it so much earlier.

Now that I’ve been back at work for a week-and-a-half, it’s getting easier. Scheduling is harder, and I’m less likely to stretch a day out into the 10-hour range just to get something done.

That kiddo is calling me, and I want to rush home to hold him close.

Moms (and dads, too), how do you deal with going to work when you’ve got kids that need full-time care?

I think I’ve said this already on the Mommy Talk blog, but my 5-1/2-year-old is a wicked Uno player. She’s the kind of kid who drops three "Draw 2" cards in a row, and follows them with a "Wildcard Draw 4." Last week, during a snowday Uno marathon, her killer strategy repeatedly killed my chances at victory. I was 2-11. In one game, she called "Uno!" and won before I had the opportunity to put down a single card.

I welcome losing. Finally, I’m really losing. When she says "Wanna play Uno?", I say "Game ON!"

It has been a tough five years for my competitive spirit. I love games, and I always loved game nights when I was growing up. My siblings, parents and I would engage in hilarious but brutal battles of Pictionary, Scrabble, Monopoly, Balderdash, Trivial Pursuit. Then I became a mom — a mom to two daughters. And I gave up my beloved Monopoly piece for the plastic crown in Pretty Pretty Princess.

I also had to shelve my need to win. I don’t believe in letting kids win every game, but I do believe in letting them win enough games to feel good about themselves. I believe in letting them win the last game before bedtime so we’re all happy for the walk upstairs. And I also believe in letting them win just so we can stop playing already.

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