The Fourth Year Check-Up

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Yesterday I took Bean in for her yearly check up.  I thought I would share some of her stats here.  I should have been doing this all along because this blog was started as a memory book of sorts but I feel out of the habit.

She is 38 ½ inches tall (23 percentile), and weighs 29 pounds 4 ounces (6th percentile).  Yes, she is a tiny thing.  The doctor wasn’t that concerned about the weight though.  We talked about Bean being a picky eater and my frustrations with that.  This doctor has seen Bean from her first pediatric visit and knows that Bean came into this world at only 5 pounds 4 ounces, and then lost down to 4 pounds 12 ounces while in the hospital.  So she knows she runs small.

The doctor mentioned that we could put her back on Pediasure.  Bean used to love those and I’m sure would do so again.  Of course, she likes something one day and hates it the next which is part of the frustration and I guess par for the course with a toddler.  I remember being a very picky eater, sometimes still can be, so I guess she gets it honestly.

The one hitch to the visit was that Bean failed her hearing test.  They are not sure if it was because of remaining fluid in her ears after just getting over being sick and having allergies, or if maybe she’s too immature to understand how to follow the testing rules.  They used a machine that they inserted into her ear and it would play a number of beeps.  She was to raise her hand once she heard a beep and then put her hand back down.  Well, the hand would go up and stay up.  Then once they put her hand down, there were several beeps that she did not respond to.  So they aren’t sure if there is really a problem or if she just needs a little more time to understand what she needs to do.

A couple of years ago, I had to take her to an ENT for recurring ear infections and they did a whole hearing test on her then and she passed.  So I am hoping that she just did not understand how to do what they wanted her to do.

She did get her finger pricked to test for anemia again.  The poor baby’s finger bled for a couple of hours after that.  Then they gave her four booster shots.  I had forgotten this was going to happen and I hadn’t prepared her by giving her Advil beforehand or prepared myself with the pep talk I always have to do.  I absolutely hate having to hold my child down while they give her shots.  She’s crying and screaming and I’m trying not to cry and scream myself.  It’s horrible.

After the doctor’s visit she had to go to the dentist for her six month check up.  She did pretty good during the exam and has a small spot on the front of one of her front teeth that has to be fixed.  But the dentist was happy with how we’ve gotten better at tooth care and Bean was excited to get her prizes for being good.  She even took her goodies to school today so she could show them off.  (Sorry teachers!)

Then after all of these check ups, it was off to get another haircut so she can see again.  Now she is getting more and more excited for her birthday party this weekend.

So if you all are the praying type, please pray that Bean's hearing is fine.  I'd appreciate it.  I am going to try not to worry about it until I have something to worry about.  

The Bean is 4!

Sunday marked our beloved Bean's 4th birthday!

Four years.

Fours years of love, laughter, smiles, tantrums (hers and mine), learning, giggles, hugs, kisses, and did I say love?  Oh yeah.  I did.  But love is all I think of when I think of our Bean.

Here are some pictures I took of Bean in one of her new girlie dresses on her fourth birthday.  I see a bunch of love in them.

Happy Birthday Baby!

Bad Mom - Exhibit A

One sign I'm a bad mom is that as I'm getting the kid out of the car this morning at her school, I look down and notice that I completely forgot to brush her hair.  It wasn't that bad because at night I comb and comb it while I'm blowing it dry during the winter months but it was stringy.  I didn't have a brush or comb with me so oh well.  And maybe that doesn't necessarily make me a bad mom, just a forgetful one or a rushed one or something.

But what leads me to believe I am a bad mom or really that I have no freaking clue what I'm doing is what occurred at the grocery store last night.

Bean and I stopped by the store so I could get some fixins to make pizza for dinner.  While there I remembered other things I needed like you always do.  We walked by the bakery and Bean saw that they had cake pops and asked for one.  Okay fine.  One was boxed up and she of course wanted it immediately.  Nope.  Have to wait for dinner.  Whining ensued but not too much.  (I hate the freaking whining.  I think for one day all the adults in the world should whine to their kids like the kids do all the other days.)

We also looked at cakes and cupcakes and I placed an order for the birthday party.  The kid will not stay next to the buggy.  Back and forth to this display, then to another.  Stand the hell still, kid.  I can't watch you to make sure someone doesn't snatch you up, and carry on a conversation with the bakery dude.  I CANNOT MULTITASK.  It's been proven.

Kid proceeds to climb under the grocery cart and lay on the bottom part where you put dog food or if you're lucky, beer.  Enough beer to make you not notice the whining.  She did this a couple of weeks back at another grocery store and she got stuck.  Spectators gathered.  Blood pressure rose.

As soon as I saw this planking demonstration begin, I grabbed two little wrists and pulled her back to a sensible level.  Her shoe came off.  This set off more whining.  Bakery dude thinks this is all entertaining.

After our show was over at the bakery, we headed to the soft drink aisle which is also the beer aisle and I was tempted.  Tempted people.  You have no clue how tempted.  Leave the bottled water and the orange drink I’m addicted to and grab the Molson.  (Shout out to my Canadian friends there.)

While debating the merits of beginner alcoholism, I noticed Bean hanging on the end of the cart and giggling fiendishly.  “What’s so funny, Bean?”

“Mommy, I pooted.”  Careless whispers.  Remember that song?  This was most definitely careless, but NOT a whisper.  In fact, a 20-something dude was walking by at the time and heard this profession.  Laughing ensued again.  I am thinking I need to start charging for this floor show.

“Bean, we don’t say that in public.”  Also made a mental note to discuss the “pooting giggles” with Hubz when I get home.  They think this is a funny way to spend a few minutes together.
During our store meanderings, the cart had been filled with a Hello Kitty cup, Double Stuff Oreos, and Little Debbie Brownies.  Some of this was added with permission, some added surreptitiously.  The Hello Kitty cup I agreed to since I was the one that melted the straw on the last Hello Kitty cup.  And it IS Hello Kitty.

So with a cart filled with cake pops, Oreos, and brownies, you would think the average kid would be happy as a pig in a blanket, right?

No, your Honor, they would not.  At least not my unmannered, sugar-ladened unruly child.  This grocery store has developed a wonderful marketing tool that only sick and demented childless store designers would ever think of - they have a self-serve candy bin right in the middle of all the checkout lanes.  These sick bastards have never had to stand in a mile long check out line with an antsy uncontrollable toddler who doesn’t understand that the candy in the bins isn’t there for the taking like it is at Nano’s house.

I wish them one day in my shoes.  The sick bastards.

Bean asked me for some candy and pointed at the bins.  She was told no.  This did not compute.

As I push our cart to the point of no return in the lane and start unloading our wares, she takes off.  Right to the candy bin which is, of course, out of my reach.

I say “Bean, get back over here.”

“Mommy, I want candy.”  Yeah, you and that group from the 80s.  I’ve heard it before.

Do you know how hard it is to try and stretch your leg one way to keep in contact with the cart that is holding your purse, and then stretch out the rest of your body the exact opposite way to try and capture a smiling sugar monster?  It is near dang impossible.  I think it should actually be an Olympic event.  I think I would win gold.

“Bean, get over here right now.”

“I want candy.”

“No.  No.  No.”

As she is just out of my grip, she stands by the malted milk balls.  She looks at me and smiles this smile that rivals the one of Jack Nicholson in The Shining.  She reaches into the malted milk balls - doesn’t even use the provided tongs - and snatches a milk ball.  She smiles right at me again and pops the candy right into her mouth.

Immediate thought - this child is possessed by Jack Nicholson.  No, he’s still alive.  This child is evil.

That’s it.  Blood pressure all the way up.  Steam coming out of my ears.  Trying to remember if the will is made out.  Take off over to the bins to grab hellion.

Hellion takes off!

SICK BASTARDS!!!!!!  I hate this store.  I hate my life.  I hate that my child is possessed.  I hate that I have no control.

This would have never happened to my own mother.

I must be a bad mom.  I must be one of those moms that I used to watch in stores and just shake my head.  Karma, baby.  I sure wished my mom was here to give me some pointers on controlling this possessed hellion.

So from now on, if there is a trip to the grocery store in our future, it won’t be this candy bin displaying sick bastards store.  And we won’t be setting foot in any store without a new roll of duct tape.  I used to make this joke all the time but more and more I’m understanding what a valuable child-rearing tool duct tape really is.  Even if I decide not to use it on the kid, I can put it over my own mouth to drown out the sounds of my screams.

Meet Oliver

Bean received one early Christmas present.  This present came a week before Christmas.  Santa had a hard time wrapping this one and keeping it hidden so he gave us the okay to go ahead and give it to her early.

We'd like to introduce you to the newest member of our family.

This is Oliver.

Oliver is a lemon beagle.  We got him a week before Christmas and he was six weeks old when he came to live with us.  He is very sweet and loveable.  He likes to nibble on us and will cuddle up with us to take his puppy naps.  We call him "Ollie" for short.

Bean was taking a kiddie nap in her car seat when Oliver first arrived.  He couldn't believe that anyone could sleep through his introduction so he promptly woke her up.  She first opened her eyes, looked right at Ollie and then threw her arm around his neck to put him in a headlock and rolled over with him tailing right behind - still in the headlock.

Once she woke up she warmed right up to him.  "Puppy! Puppy! Puppy!"  She was instantly in love.

Oliver has brought us tons of laughs and love already.  His little personality is beginning to shine.  The only challenge we've had so far is the same everyone has with a new puppy and that's house training.  I haven't had to house train a doggie since 1997!  I think I've forgotten all I ever learned.  But we'll get there.  I sure hope we get there.  LOL