I need some advice.
Yesterday my 1st grader (Gwen, you probably know her...) came to me with a bit of a problem. In her class there's this girl (we'll call her Barbie) who doesn't have any friends. She told Gwen that she was her only friend and wants to spend all her time with her. I love that Gwen is an accepting and obsessively social girl who wants to be best friends with everyone, and I encourage that. But there's a reason little miss Barbie is friendless. She's a little bully. She got mad at one of Gwen's other friends (Peanut) and told Gwen she can't be friends with her anymore. Gwen told me she's scared of Barbie and told her she wouldn't be friends with Peanut, that she didn't like her anymore. Barbie had actually punched Peanut in the stomach earlier in the year that went untold, and Gwen doesn't want to be punched. But Gwen said she secretly was still friends with Peanut and would make sure Peanut knew it. But it would all be hush hush.
Of course, I told Gwen it's more important to stand up for herself and for her friends and not be scared of being hit. If she hit her, she'd tell a teacher and me and that little bratty Barbie would be home schooled from that point onward. (Or I said something along those lines.) Gwen seemed a bit nervous but agreed, and we made a plan that if she told Gwen she couldn't be friends with Peanut again to say, "I still want to be friends with Peanut. But don't worry, Barbie. I'll still be your friend, too." I mean, this girl is only 6 or 7, and she's telling my daughter that she secretly wants to be a Bad Girl and wants Gwen to be a bad girl with her. (Fun fact: when I was a kid, I was in a Mischief Maker club with a friend and we'd go around and do little things here and there for tee-hees and giggles. It's not a big deal, I guess little kids like the thrill of it.) But Barbie is already taking shots at people and I'm not liking her sort of mischief.
BUT.
I told her to still be friends with her. Is that wrong? Gwen's her only friend and she's pressuring Gwen to do wrong things, but they are only 1st graders. Gwen is a very strong personality and won't do anything she doesn't want to do, and if this Barbie girl has a real friend who genuinely wants to be her friend and love her until the end of days with her hundred other best buds, I think it'll be the best thing for Barbie. Or am I crazy? Should I tell Gwen to stay away from her, to be nice, but find somebody else to play with? I find that a bit harsh, especially since they are so young. Maybe Barbie won't turn into such a bully if she had a nice friend. Or is there a good chance Gwen will start acting up with her if she keeps playing with her? What would you do?
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Monday, January 6, 2014
The Labor Story, Take Four
Baby's down. Fidgeting only slightly... let's see if I can get this all down before he demands to be fed again.
Because this little man can eat.
So I figured I'd share my labor story. I love labor stories. They are horrific and gruesome, but usually have a sappy, happy ending. Love them.
I decided this time to plan for a c-section. I'm pretty sure I developed gestational diabetes after the glucose test (that I barely passed anyway) so my baby boy was really, really big. Phoebe and Isaac were both VBACs, but they were also very big (over 9 pounds) and they were almost impossible to push out for me. Doctors had to use the vacuum and forceps to get the job done, and my babies were so beat up, bruised, and exhausted. Not to mention, recovering from these births was long and brutal. Recovering from the c-section when I had Gwen wasn't even nearly as painful for me, so I decided c-section it is. Especially since the ultrasound to measure this little boy proved him not so little.
December 14th was our day. I was exactly 39 weeks, and I wasn't going to wait a day more. But I was so unbearably nervous for the surgery. I felt something was going to go wrong and I was pacing and praying up a storm. Thankfully, nothing really did go wrong. It was pretty much a by the book delivery! (Except for one little thing that I'll mention in a minute...) Samuel Shadrach was born kicking and screaming. He wasn't drugged or groggy like my previous 2 (no epidural...), he wasn't bruised, no broken bones, and he was my first baby who came out howling. The doctors and nurses predicted he was between 8 or 9 pounds. I laughed at them. I knew better. 10 pounds, 7 ounces! 22 inches long. A week early! And there was a TON of water in there with him too. Doctor joked and said we should name him Noah. He was beautiful. They lifted him up over the curtain and I cried as he howled away.
I'm glad I remember seeing him that first time. The doctors had to give me a medicine to make me forget the surgery because the spinal I was given wore off during it. I know I've told this story a bazillion times, but you're going to hear it again! It was traumatizing at the time (and a pretty good story, in my opinion...) I told the anesthesiologist that I was feeling something, but he told me that was normal, that I would feel pressure and pulling. Um... no. That's not what I was feeling. I could feel the knife being used, my skin breaking away, my organs being shifted, my uterus being stitched up. It wasn't until I started making real noise and going "ow ow ow" after every little stitch that I got my doctor's attention and he asked why the heck I was feeling this. Then I was given my forgetfulness potion, and... that didn't quite work either. I still remember the surgery and that I was in pain (though not the pain itself from that point) and I do remember hallucinating. I felt like drunk Dumbo. Unfortunately though, by the end of the surgery, I have very little memory. They wheeled me to my room, I got to hold Sammy and feed him, but I don't remember that. My first memory after the surgery was when Logan said his parents were on their way over. It's strange, looking back on pictures I took and were taken of me during this period. I'm smiling away... no memory. Weird.
We all made it through however! Sammy had a bit of jaundice that kept us in the hospital an extra day, but other than that, everything was perfect. I healed up well, no epidural migraine, Sammy was perfect, an excellent breast feeder, slept a lot. Good thing too, because I saw Logan for only 2 hours a day during the stay there, and I had the baby in the room with me the whole time. It was a little rough, but we managed. We watched A LOT of HGTV. Helped us through.
Sammy's 3 weeks already. He's almost 12 pounds and he's holding his head up like a bonafide human being. Time's already flying by. We celebrated Christmas and the New Year in our first home as a whole family. Lovely times.
And I've lost over 30 pounds already. I mean, sure... I'm counting from 9 months preggo, but still. It counts.
Because this little man can eat.
So I figured I'd share my labor story. I love labor stories. They are horrific and gruesome, but usually have a sappy, happy ending. Love them.
I decided this time to plan for a c-section. I'm pretty sure I developed gestational diabetes after the glucose test (that I barely passed anyway) so my baby boy was really, really big. Phoebe and Isaac were both VBACs, but they were also very big (over 9 pounds) and they were almost impossible to push out for me. Doctors had to use the vacuum and forceps to get the job done, and my babies were so beat up, bruised, and exhausted. Not to mention, recovering from these births was long and brutal. Recovering from the c-section when I had Gwen wasn't even nearly as painful for me, so I decided c-section it is. Especially since the ultrasound to measure this little boy proved him not so little.
December 14th was our day. I was exactly 39 weeks, and I wasn't going to wait a day more. But I was so unbearably nervous for the surgery. I felt something was going to go wrong and I was pacing and praying up a storm. Thankfully, nothing really did go wrong. It was pretty much a by the book delivery! (Except for one little thing that I'll mention in a minute...) Samuel Shadrach was born kicking and screaming. He wasn't drugged or groggy like my previous 2 (no epidural...), he wasn't bruised, no broken bones, and he was my first baby who came out howling. The doctors and nurses predicted he was between 8 or 9 pounds. I laughed at them. I knew better. 10 pounds, 7 ounces! 22 inches long. A week early! And there was a TON of water in there with him too. Doctor joked and said we should name him Noah. He was beautiful. They lifted him up over the curtain and I cried as he howled away.
I'm glad I remember seeing him that first time. The doctors had to give me a medicine to make me forget the surgery because the spinal I was given wore off during it. I know I've told this story a bazillion times, but you're going to hear it again! It was traumatizing at the time (and a pretty good story, in my opinion...) I told the anesthesiologist that I was feeling something, but he told me that was normal, that I would feel pressure and pulling. Um... no. That's not what I was feeling. I could feel the knife being used, my skin breaking away, my organs being shifted, my uterus being stitched up. It wasn't until I started making real noise and going "ow ow ow" after every little stitch that I got my doctor's attention and he asked why the heck I was feeling this. Then I was given my forgetfulness potion, and... that didn't quite work either. I still remember the surgery and that I was in pain (though not the pain itself from that point) and I do remember hallucinating. I felt like drunk Dumbo. Unfortunately though, by the end of the surgery, I have very little memory. They wheeled me to my room, I got to hold Sammy and feed him, but I don't remember that. My first memory after the surgery was when Logan said his parents were on their way over. It's strange, looking back on pictures I took and were taken of me during this period. I'm smiling away... no memory. Weird.
We all made it through however! Sammy had a bit of jaundice that kept us in the hospital an extra day, but other than that, everything was perfect. I healed up well, no epidural migraine, Sammy was perfect, an excellent breast feeder, slept a lot. Good thing too, because I saw Logan for only 2 hours a day during the stay there, and I had the baby in the room with me the whole time. It was a little rough, but we managed. We watched A LOT of HGTV. Helped us through.
Sammy's 3 weeks already. He's almost 12 pounds and he's holding his head up like a bonafide human being. Time's already flying by. We celebrated Christmas and the New Year in our first home as a whole family. Lovely times.
And I've lost over 30 pounds already. I mean, sure... I'm counting from 9 months preggo, but still. It counts.
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