Rowan

Cock

Monday, 25. June 2007, 16:26:18

Kajsa, kiddoes, children, chinese astrology ...

So lately Kajsa’s been into making inappropriate noises as often as possible. It’s annoying, but we ~~know~~ hope it’s a phase. Having experienced Maya when she was four; however, I have a bit more patience for it than Chris does.

Unfortunately, though, Kajsa was at the store with Chris when the following interaction occurred.

Some dear, sweet little old gentleman walked up to Kajsa proclaiming, “Oh what a cute little girl.”

Kajsa immediately turned to sweet little old lady and bellowed, in a preternaturally low voice, “Cock!”

I’m not sure what Chris did at that point as this is the part of the story where I interrupt each time, either with fits of inappropriate giggles or queries as to where she could have picked up on such vernacular.

Part of me feels that I may be to blame. You see, Kajsa’s favorite restaurant, bar none, is the Chinese one down the road. The woman who owns the place coddles my girl telling her how proud she is that she eats spicy Kung Pao Tofu. She, additionally, always gives Kajsa some little gift as we leave. These have been everything from a bird whistle that you blow water through to make it sing - to magnets with full frontals of koala bears. Seriously, they're odd. And yet, there they are – proudly displayed on our refrigerator.

Anyway, while waiting for our food to arrive, we always have to check out the placemats’ Chinese Astrology. Chris is a rabbit. Maya’s a monkey. Kajsa’s a sheep. And when it gets to me, having been born in 1969, I unfailingly proclaim, “I’m a cock!”

And so I am. I’ll crow all day unless you put a bag over my head. Heck we moved out into the middle of nowhere with nothing to do and thousands of miles between myself and anything or anyone familiar. So what did I do, I started a blog and began some cyber crowing. But this isn’t really about me, is it?

It’s about my dear sweet little girl with a mouth like a sailor. We’ve caught her saying a few other questionable (at best) things lately as well. She’s called her new puppy, Rufus, both a “little prick” and a “little pussy”. (Hmmmmm…Canis Hermaphrititus?)

Now, I know she didn’t get those here. When we asked her where she did hear them, her response was, “Pre-school – a loooong time ago.” Mind you, she’s barely four. And while that does, somewhat, let me off the hook; it seems that now I get to have a fun, and oh so comfortable, conversation with her teachers.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

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Kajsa Nuggets

Sunday, 24. June 2007, 05:33:08

Kajsa, children, kids

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Getting on an elevator the other day, Kajsa turned to me and proclaimed that she loved riding in the alligator. I had to explain that while elevators can be mighty exhilarating, they should never be confused with aligators - and that riding in an alligator would most assuredly, um, bite.

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This morning's conversation:

Kajsa: Knock Knock!

Me: Who's there?

Kajsa: You say Mama.

Me: Huh?

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And finally, I win the prize for horriblest mom ever. Yep, horriblest.

Stopping at the pizza joint on our way home from Phoenix the other day, Kajsa and I immediately ran for the bathroom. Kajsa dawdled on the toilet for several minutes as I stood around doing the mommy martyr version of the pee-pee dance. Once it was finally my turn I settled myself just in time to witness one of childhood's many failed experiments.

You see, Kajsa has been having a fabulous time lately swinging from the bars on the playground. So...seeing an available bar against the wall, she grabbed ahold and lifted her legs, eager for the freedom of the swing. As you might imagine; with her feet behind her, and her hands otherwise occupied, there was nothing to keep her face from smacking loudly against the wall.

And what makes me a bad mom? Well, I laughed. I couldn't help it. I have a secret love of slapstick. And that was better than anything you'd find on an old Three's Company re-run.

Yep, horriblest mommy ever.

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Chinese Takeout

Sunday, 24. June 2007, 05:23:05

China, Transplant, organ donation

Let’s all give China a big hand. Figuratively, of course. China has just enacted its first set of rules banning human organ trade. And I couldn’t be happier to hear it. (We all know how important this subject is to me and mine.)

"China's first set of regulations on human organ transplant, which prohibits organizations and individuals from trading human organs in any form, went into effect on Tuesday.

Any doctor found to be involved in human organ trade will have their practitioner license revoked, according to the regulations issued by the State Council, China's cabinet. Clinics will be suspended from doing organ transplant operations for at least three years. Fines are set at between eight to ten times the value of the outlawed trade, the regulations say.

Officials convicted of trading in human organs will be sacked and kicked out of the government. China has carried out organ transplants for more than 20 years and is the world's second largest performer of transplants after the United States, with about 5,000 transplants operated each year."

Full article

It is my hope that as organ donation becomes more highly regulated throughout the world, greater numbers of people will find themselves comfortable with making the contribution. After all, we’ve all heard the horror stories about the tourist who woke up to find himself in a bath tub full of ice with one kidney missing. And to tell the truth, before Kajsa was born, this was the first image that popped into my mind when ever the subject was broached.

But since her birth, I’ve learned how absurd and paranoid my line of thinking was. Having been there though, I can fully empathize with anyone’s fears around the subject. Truly, I can. So if you’d like to find out more information – ever, just drop me a line. I won’t judge you. I’d simply love to help you to find the information you need.

Cross my heart.

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Tribute

Sunday, 24. June 2007, 01:02:42

hospital, pediatric, nurses, midwives ...

Moreena over at Healthcare Hollaback & The Wait and Wonder has sent out the request for positive hospital stories as they pertain to the folks who in their kindness have pulled our stays further from unbridled terror. And I was so pleased to find myself torn when trying to decide who to honor. Finally, I settled on the thought possibly posting more than once.

The following submission is but a snippet of a(n even) long(er and more) rambling post I wrote in January of 2006. In it I barely mention our midwife and the wonderful pediatrician she recommended. Were it not for this chain of caring professionals; however, Kajsa would have wasted away to a toxic bit of nothingness. They forever hold my grateful heart in their souls.

The true honoree of the post is a nurse, named LaDawn. And bear in mind that while she was, indeed, a real live person; she has come to represent to me an archetype of sorts – so often have I thought of her.

And now for the real post.

~~.~~.~~.~~.~~.~~.~~.~~.~~.~~~.~~

One of the things that Chris always loved best about me was my parenting style. So when we found out that we were to have a baby, we were elated. We signed up with Baby Diaper Service, took Bradley classes, and found the best midwife imaginable.

Kajsa was born at home on a warm late spring day. She was full term (although a bit small) and had all her fingers and toes. We figured the rest was the easy part. After all, I was an old pro. I’d always remembered the words of Maya Angelou, “Ain’t no trouble when you’re packin’ for double.”

Toni, our midwife, came by at day three to do the heel stick. I cried and cried to think of anyone hurting my baby. It all came back normal. Kajsa was a bit underweight. But, we figured all babies drop at first. p>

When Kajsa was still dropping at 2 weeks, Toni gave us the name of a very good pediatrician. Dr. Oriel is this neat little guy who reminds me of Peewee Herman with out the annoying laugh or off beat movie preferences. He had actually taught at Albert Einstein, and has a huge love of babies. We went to see him.

He began to talk to us about vaccination schedules. We told him that just was not gonna happen. While he was not exactly OK with this he agreed that it was our decision to make, and asked only that we read his information, as well as the literature upon which we had based our decision.

Dr. Oriel was also worried about Kajsa’s weight and had me go to see a lactation specialist to make certain that I was nursing well and that she didn’t have any problems with sucking. While we were at it, we began checking to see if she was allergic to my milk. This, I thought was the most absurd and insulting of notions I’d ever heard. Now I wish with all my heart that this had been the issue. I would have been quite put off, but I would have eventually gotten over it.

I was pumping around the clock and mixing my milk with formula at high caloric ratios to try to fatten her up. But she just kept dropping weight. We met Dr. Oriel at his office on the 4^th of July for a weight check. Down, still. Then he met us there two days later on a Sunday. He was so befuddled by our little bird girl. So, he said that he’d really like to take some blood to rule out a few things. Gulping down the nausea, we said alright.

We then watched in horror as he tried desperately to get blood from both arms. Finding this to be extremely difficult, we went downstairs to the lab. The woman there was eventually able to get some blood from her scalp. The poor girl was just SO dehydrated.

We went over to some good friends’ house that night for a visit and were just settling down to watch Lord of the Rings, when my phone rang. Dr. Oriel was on the line. Since he knew how little we valued Western/Allopathic medicine. He pulled no punches.

“Rowan, there’s something wrong with Kajsa’s kidneys. We need you to go to MaryBridge Children’s Hospital. You have time to go home and pack some clothes for yourself. Do not go anywhere else. You are in direct admission. That means they know you are coming.”

I hysterically went tearing into the other room where Chris was playing video games with his friends. I’m not sure that dolphins could have understood me as I tried to relay what I’d just been told. Chris took the phone and got directions to MaryBridge.

As we drove back to Auburn, I just kept wondering if this could all actually be real. I sobbed for the whole ride and just kept thinking that they must be horribly, horribly wrong. These things simply do not happen to me. I vacillated between disbelief and sheer terror. Chris said nothing and drove.

As I arrived at our house, I couldn’t figure out what to pack. Should I take clothes for Kajsa? Would she wear them while we were there? How many diapers would we need? Would there be a place to wash them? This is how much I knew about hospitals. I grabbed about 500 ounces of my milk from the freezer as we ran out the door.

We arrived safely (somehow) and were admitted to the seventh floor. Chris and I filled out what seemed like sooo much paperwork. (I can now do this in my sleep.) Chris stayed in the room as the IV specialists came up to draw more blood. I ~~have~~ had an intense fear of needles; so a wonderful nurse named, LaDawn, took me to a soundproofed treatment room to figure out the unbelievably industrial looking breast pump.

While there, she talked to me about her son. He had some chronic illness. She and her husband had lived on an army base in Germany when he was diagnosed. Her experiences led her to change careers to become a pediatric nurse. This story would repeat itself over and over during our various hospital stays. The mommy nurses were always my favorites. They just get it.

This is who can provide emotional support like no one else. It is from nurses whose children have had chronic illnesses that I learned how to be an unbelievable advocate for Kajsa. They are a resource to be valued, and never overlooked.

They are, indeed, the key to hospital sanity.

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