Apparently there are some women out there who believe that sending your child to daycare is a "last resort" for moms.... OK, I apologize in advance if I offend anyone out there but I need to address this issue.
I have been the target of pitiful looks and tongue lashings from "friends" (yeah, not in my life anymore) AND family (not mine, my husband's) for putting my child in daycare. Let me preface my arguments by saying that I have NO issue with women who choose to stay home and take care of the kids. That is probably one of the hardest things to do and unless you're a stay at home dad, men will NEVER understand how hard it is. I applaud you, really but that doesn't make you a better mother than me. In some instances that I've seen, the children are better off in the hands of strangers than their own parents. My arguments may not apply to EVERY child, but let's say 3 out of 4 for good measure...
Argument One: Socialization
My child is nearly 20 months old and WILL BE an only child. For many reasons, we decided this what was we wanted as a couple. If she was home with me all day, she wouldn't have any socialization skills. Instead, she would know all about being a Jersey Housewife, what an Intervention consists of and the lifestyle of the Kardashian sisters. I am addicted to TV and soon she would be to.... She isn't going to benefit from sitting in a house with me day in and day out while I try to find ways to amuse her. I think it's important she learns the benefits of friends and playing and all around, being a kid. I am late to have kids compared to some family and friends and have seen the downside to keeping their children home with them. My daughter started talking in sentences at an early age. I don't think it has anything to do with how smart she is but more the socialization skills she has gained from being around other kids. My daughter will never know what it's like NOT to have friends or a playmate. She won't be 4 years old and learning how to leave her mommy and make friends at the same time. I know 6 year olds that can't hack it. She is learning an important skill set that I wish I had. I know that if daycare was an option in the 70's, my mom would have sent me even if it was for one day a week. A child needs this exposure.
Argument Two: I'm Not Qualified
Sure, I am qualified to be a mom but there are people out there who went to school to receive Master's degrees in Early Elementary Education. Yeah, my JD isn't going to help me there. These women (and few men) have a ton more patience and knowledge than I will ever have. My daughter bonded to her primary infant care giver at daycare and I am forever grateful to her. I believe she was a strong influence on my daughter at the time and worked with her on achieving the milestones she needed before she turned one. My daughter's current teachers have taken extra time with her to help with her walking (she was late on this...). I'm a first time mom and I welcome most advice, but these women have been doing this for years with a ton of kids. I trust them. Her personality blossomed and she is practically running around the house (note to self, suspend gym membership due to excessive cardio every day).
Argument Three: Money
I'm not going to pretend my husband and I aren't well off, because we do pretty well. So, yes, I can afford to stay home with her. My income could be suspended for a few years until she goes to pre-school or Kindergarten. It's important to look at the bigger picture here. If I stay home, we would need to give up things which I believe are necessary. I'm not talking about Louboutins and dinners out, I'm talking about taking her to the zoo or the movies or even Disney on Ice. These are some of the best things about being a kid and I want her to have it all. I don't need her to be the best dressed kid in school, but I do need her to be happy. She has all the love in the world from us along with 4 grandparents that adore her. She is never at a loss for love or immaterial things. And from the selfish only child p.o.v. (me), there are still luxuries my husband and I don't want to give up (mani/pedis....). These things make US happy. When we're happy, she will inevitably be happy. Have you ever seen a child who comes from a home with unhappy parents? I have. It's not pretty.
Argument Four: FOR ME
I am a better mom, better wife and better person because I have not lost who I am. I need to work and have a life outside the home. The time I spend with her is precious and it is productive because I am at work and away from her all day. I was home on maternity leave for 16 weeks. I love my daughter more than the air that I breathe but I couldn't take it. You get into a routine, the days become monotonous, and you start to get depressed. Your whole life revolves around feedings, naps and dirty diapers. Yes, this is what I signed on for but it's not the ONLY thing I sign ed on for. NOTHING is better than seeing my daughter's face light up when I walk into daycare and hearing her say, "MOMMY!!!" and run up to me. NOTHING. It's brings tears to my eyes just writing this. That's what I wanted.... My husband works 12 hour days so I spend a lot of time with her on my days off. These are the moment I cherish because I'm not tired or stressed or depressed. I have waited all week for these hours with her. I look forward to the hours at night where I feed her, bathe her and read to her. It's the best part of my day.... If this was all I did, every day all day, I wouldn't appreciate it as much. I don't think anyone would.
I've had a lot of shitty things said to me and after some discussion, have learned that my friends have faced the same type of discrimination by "stay at home" moms. This was the decision my husband and I made. It wasn't easy. I didn't just drop her off on the front steps in her infant carrier... I cried for days and called the room EVERY SINGLE DAY to see how she was for a year. People tried to talk me out of it. They insisted my child would be sick ALL the time. Well, she was. She had chronic ear infections but those aren't contagious.... Aside from a few colds she was pretty healthy.
I know that some moms have family watch their kids or even may have a nanny if they can afford it. Again, I don't agree with it (see argument one) but I see their point of view. I know there are people who can't afford daycare and still work so rely on another family member or friend. Daycare is astronomical and I may have different arguments if I had more than one child or was a single mom. You don't want to work to pay for daycare. That's not conducive to a happy home either.
You don't get more points for being a stay at home mom. You don't get more points for putting your child in day care. It's important for women to realize this is a personal choice and shouldn't be criticized one way or another. Being a parent is a tough job on anyone. Sometimes you need all the help you can get. I'm confident in OUR decision to have our daughter in daycare and we're fortunate we can afford to have her there.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
...and scene.
After the last two blogs, I thought I should write about something good.... er, great.
Aside from: "Free Louboutins" or "Mr. Wahlberg is holding on line one for you"-- I didn't think I would hear something as wonderful as, "Dr. S called. The Cancer is gone." Is there anything even left to say after that? Even thought I have heard that news once before (my dad was in remission for about 15 minutes), this is the new positive me so I know my mom is going to be fine. Hearing the news was exhilarating and to be honest, it still hasn't hit me I don't think. (See previous sentence). I think there is still a small part of me that wonders if the tests were right and if it's really gone, but again, I'm going to try and be positive.
When I heard the news I cried from being so happy and couldn't wait to call my husband and the rest of the family for that matter. I sent out text messages to everyone who knew about my mom's diagnosis. It's possible that people won't even know she's Cancer free until they read this blog. I was asked not to post anything on a public forum (Facebook, Twitter, etc) so it took a while to reach everyone.... Hmmm, I wonder if blogging counts??? She's going to kill me if/when I ever tell her about this blog.
The obvious question is whether she will need the surgery still. Yes, she is still going in for surgery. I don't know if it's necessary as much as it's precautionary at this point. The doctors all seemed to be a bit shocked the Cancer is gone. I keep hearing the word "miracle" thrown around a lot lately with her fighting this disease. Maybe this is God's way (yes, I do believe there is one even after all of this) of making up for what happened to my dad. But, I don't thank Dr. S for this miraculous recovery and I don't thank God either... I thank my dad.
My spirituality doesn't come from a religious belief but more of a superstitious one. I'm not about to open a can of worms on theology so let's say I believe in God and leave it at that. I believe this was a divine intervention by my father. I've felt that way all along. My mom was lucky enough to have a Cancer diagnosed at Stage I, which is usually diagnosed at Stage III or Stage IV. I don't know how he did it, but he put the wheels in motion of her getting sick which led to her early diagnosis. Does this sound crazy? Sure but you can't change my mind on this.
My blog will go on for a while longer-- at least through the surgery. I'm going to need to vent somehow.
For now, all I can do is be thankful that she is Cancer free and hope she begins to feel better. The residual effects of various infections and treatment therapies have taken a toll on her. I miss having my mom around and I feel as though she isn't around (understandably). I do believe she is at least 75% of the way on the road to recovery.
If this continues to go well, I will no longer see Cancer as a death sentence. I do know Cancer survivors (I have to mention that my pug is one of them...) and I know people who know Cancer survivors. After my father died, it seemed everyone I knew with a Cancer diagnosis lived. I hope to now include my mom in that group of people.
Aside from: "Free Louboutins" or "Mr. Wahlberg is holding on line one for you"-- I didn't think I would hear something as wonderful as, "Dr. S called. The Cancer is gone." Is there anything even left to say after that? Even thought I have heard that news once before (my dad was in remission for about 15 minutes), this is the new positive me so I know my mom is going to be fine. Hearing the news was exhilarating and to be honest, it still hasn't hit me I don't think. (See previous sentence). I think there is still a small part of me that wonders if the tests were right and if it's really gone, but again, I'm going to try and be positive.
When I heard the news I cried from being so happy and couldn't wait to call my husband and the rest of the family for that matter. I sent out text messages to everyone who knew about my mom's diagnosis. It's possible that people won't even know she's Cancer free until they read this blog. I was asked not to post anything on a public forum (Facebook, Twitter, etc) so it took a while to reach everyone.... Hmmm, I wonder if blogging counts??? She's going to kill me if/when I ever tell her about this blog.
The obvious question is whether she will need the surgery still. Yes, she is still going in for surgery. I don't know if it's necessary as much as it's precautionary at this point. The doctors all seemed to be a bit shocked the Cancer is gone. I keep hearing the word "miracle" thrown around a lot lately with her fighting this disease. Maybe this is God's way (yes, I do believe there is one even after all of this) of making up for what happened to my dad. But, I don't thank Dr. S for this miraculous recovery and I don't thank God either... I thank my dad.
My spirituality doesn't come from a religious belief but more of a superstitious one. I'm not about to open a can of worms on theology so let's say I believe in God and leave it at that. I believe this was a divine intervention by my father. I've felt that way all along. My mom was lucky enough to have a Cancer diagnosed at Stage I, which is usually diagnosed at Stage III or Stage IV. I don't know how he did it, but he put the wheels in motion of her getting sick which led to her early diagnosis. Does this sound crazy? Sure but you can't change my mind on this.
My blog will go on for a while longer-- at least through the surgery. I'm going to need to vent somehow.
For now, all I can do is be thankful that she is Cancer free and hope she begins to feel better. The residual effects of various infections and treatment therapies have taken a toll on her. I miss having my mom around and I feel as though she isn't around (understandably). I do believe she is at least 75% of the way on the road to recovery.
If this continues to go well, I will no longer see Cancer as a death sentence. I do know Cancer survivors (I have to mention that my pug is one of them...) and I know people who know Cancer survivors. After my father died, it seemed everyone I knew with a Cancer diagnosis lived. I hope to now include my mom in that group of people.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Anatomy of a Panic Attack
For me, they come out of no where. One minute I'm fine and then the next I can't breathe. They don't always end up with me in tears but when they do, it measures a ten on the "This really sucks" scale..
Let me start from the beginning... The other day when I brought mom into the Cancer center, she wasn't feeling well at all. I can probably say she looked the worst I've seen her in months. Even though it's like ripping out my insides when I see her sick like that, I want to be there. It validates me as a daughter to be able to help but this time it back fired on me. I was given one job-- get mom upstairs to see the doctor.
As I was standing at the nurse's desk, giving her name, I heard a thump, followed by "Oh My God" screams, followed by "CODE!" When I turned around, I saw my mom on the ground. I vaguely heard someone say, "she's not breathing." WHAT THE FUCK? Are you kidding me?
I ran over and calmly sat down while I watched a dozen nurses and doctors work on my mom. It's important to note that she didn't ever stop breathing, she just passed out from the pain. I remember some random lady rubbing my back asking me if I was OK-- I must have turned white as a ghost. It was completely an out of body experience because I sort of remember looking at things from another angle. As if it were a dream but it wasn't.
They lifted my mom onto the gurney and rolled her into the back to examine her and do an EKG. ...this is where it gets really, really, really bad. Per usual, I was breathing at a normal pace... then I was breathing fast.... and then faster.... and then faster.... now I'm hyperventilating to the point of feeling dizzy. I remember trying to focus on breathing in and out but it was completely out of my control by this point. Everyone around me was asking, "are you OK?" --- hmmm, let's see..... I'M HYPERVENTILATING SO CLEARLY NO, I'M NOT OK YOU ASSCLOWNS.
Before I knew it, I was sobbing and saying, "I can't do this anymore......" That's all I could manage to get out of my mouth. I was having a complete and total meltdown. For the first time in three months, I was being honest, out loud, about my feelings. I wasn't hiding behind some thin veil of a positive attitude. I wasn't allowing my guilt of selfishness to hold me back from expressing myself. I really can't do it anymore. I'm tired of worrying all the time.... Every moment of every day is is filled with me worrying about my mom dying. Yeah, I know, unhealthy.....
A nurse from the back appeared from no where and while I was sitting there sobbing, she put her arms around me. She clearly had children because I could feel the maternal-ness (is that a word???) from her. I completely allowed myself to fall into her arms and cry for what seemed like hours. I had been carrying this weight with me for so long and it felt so good to just let go.
She kept telling me that I didn't need to try and fix this. That I didn't need to carry this responsibility anymore. It was time for me to ask for help because there was plenty of people who could help me. Well, that's never been my strong suit. People come to me for support, for help, for a shoulder to lean on.... I don't know how to do that, which is why I have panic attacks.
After the panic attack, I was numb. I was tired. I am tired.
Let me start from the beginning... The other day when I brought mom into the Cancer center, she wasn't feeling well at all. I can probably say she looked the worst I've seen her in months. Even though it's like ripping out my insides when I see her sick like that, I want to be there. It validates me as a daughter to be able to help but this time it back fired on me. I was given one job-- get mom upstairs to see the doctor.
As I was standing at the nurse's desk, giving her name, I heard a thump, followed by "Oh My God" screams, followed by "CODE!" When I turned around, I saw my mom on the ground. I vaguely heard someone say, "she's not breathing." WHAT THE FUCK? Are you kidding me?
I ran over and calmly sat down while I watched a dozen nurses and doctors work on my mom. It's important to note that she didn't ever stop breathing, she just passed out from the pain. I remember some random lady rubbing my back asking me if I was OK-- I must have turned white as a ghost. It was completely an out of body experience because I sort of remember looking at things from another angle. As if it were a dream but it wasn't.
They lifted my mom onto the gurney and rolled her into the back to examine her and do an EKG. ...this is where it gets really, really, really bad. Per usual, I was breathing at a normal pace... then I was breathing fast.... and then faster.... and then faster.... now I'm hyperventilating to the point of feeling dizzy. I remember trying to focus on breathing in and out but it was completely out of my control by this point. Everyone around me was asking, "are you OK?" --- hmmm, let's see..... I'M HYPERVENTILATING SO CLEARLY NO, I'M NOT OK YOU ASSCLOWNS.
Before I knew it, I was sobbing and saying, "I can't do this anymore......" That's all I could manage to get out of my mouth. I was having a complete and total meltdown. For the first time in three months, I was being honest, out loud, about my feelings. I wasn't hiding behind some thin veil of a positive attitude. I wasn't allowing my guilt of selfishness to hold me back from expressing myself. I really can't do it anymore. I'm tired of worrying all the time.... Every moment of every day is is filled with me worrying about my mom dying. Yeah, I know, unhealthy.....
A nurse from the back appeared from no where and while I was sitting there sobbing, she put her arms around me. She clearly had children because I could feel the maternal-ness (is that a word???) from her. I completely allowed myself to fall into her arms and cry for what seemed like hours. I had been carrying this weight with me for so long and it felt so good to just let go.
She kept telling me that I didn't need to try and fix this. That I didn't need to carry this responsibility anymore. It was time for me to ask for help because there was plenty of people who could help me. Well, that's never been my strong suit. People come to me for support, for help, for a shoulder to lean on.... I don't know how to do that, which is why I have panic attacks.
After the panic attack, I was numb. I was tired. I am tired.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Life Imitates Art
(Disclaimer: this post is being written by a slightly buzzed, very sleepy blogger.)
Have you ever noticed when you have something going on in your life--- on a particular day-- and you turn on the TV and some lame ass made for TV movie is on or a TV show has a life lesson that completely mirrors the horror show of a day you had. Today that's me.
I had one of the worst days in my life... ever. Although my mom finished her chemo treatments two weeks ago, she still isn't healing as well as she should be. She's been unable to get any food down and if she does get it down, it doesn't stay down. In the midst of this eating nightmare, she started to battle what we thought was a cold, but after spending the entire day in the ER, it turns out she may have a bacterial infection which is preventing her from being able to eat because it's irritating the radiated area and causing constant retching and vomiting. She was very weak as I brought her in for her IV fluids. We've been through this before and it's hard to listen to her beg me to help her, because I lack any ability to give her what she needs, unless it's a hug. As if that weren't enough, two minutes after I brought her into the Comprehensive Cancer Center, as I am checking her in at the nurses desk, I hear a loud crash, a scream and the following words loud and clear: "IT'S A CODE."
The next few seconds seemed like a lifetime because they happened in slow motion but I turn around, only to find out that my mom had passed out and wasn't breathing. Or we weren't sure she was breathing. It's cliche, but it was an out of body experience. It was as if I was watching the whole thing in slow motion. I remember about 10 nurses crowded around her along with a few doctors. Mind you, this is all taking place in the waiting room. I don't remember much.... Some wonderful woman came over, put her arms around me and kept telling me it was going to be OK. I don't know who she was and where she went after that, but for a brief moment, she was my hero and exactly what I needed.
Because my mom was having chest pain, they wheeled her off to the ER to make sure she didn't have a heart attack. What the Fuck? Cancer... now HEART ATTACK. what happened next is a whirlwind and needs an entire blog post --- I had the panic attack to end all panic attacks. More on that at a later date but to write about that now is more than I can handle.
In the end, my mom is OK and resting comfortably. I was told by the GI doc and the oncologist that she was in the best place now and they were going to do everything to make her feel better. No one seemed to think the tumor has grown. They are all still positive about her diagnosis and multiple medical professionals assured me, "this is all completely normal." We were begged by her and the doctors to go home and rest (yeah right, like that could ever fucking happen). After hours of the sitting and waiting, I finally acquiesced and came home to relax. Several glasses of wine, a few klonipin and a warm jacuzzi bath later, I felt better.
....then I turned on Glee. What happens in the first 5 minutes but the widower father of one of the characters has a heart attack. The rest of the episode focuses on religion but more moving than anything is Kurt's rendition of "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" which gives the song a perspective I would have never imagined. It was sung as a child to their parent-- asking to hold their hand, because they needed that closeness as confirmation that everything was going to be OK. It forced me to think of my mom, sitting in that hospital bed, which only led my thoughts to --- what am I going to do if I lose my mom? I wish I were there holding HER hand right now. Holding her hand would give me the comfort that I have been yearning for the last 2 months. I hate to say she's all I have because I have an amazing husband and a beautiful healthy daughter but she's the only mom that I have.
So much for watching TV to relax and unwind. But does this happen to anyone else? Life literally imitating art?
Thank God for the hilarity of Jeff Lewis but dude, my day was rough. Stay tuned for a review of the nervous breakdown.
Have you ever noticed when you have something going on in your life--- on a particular day-- and you turn on the TV and some lame ass made for TV movie is on or a TV show has a life lesson that completely mirrors the horror show of a day you had. Today that's me.
I had one of the worst days in my life... ever. Although my mom finished her chemo treatments two weeks ago, she still isn't healing as well as she should be. She's been unable to get any food down and if she does get it down, it doesn't stay down. In the midst of this eating nightmare, she started to battle what we thought was a cold, but after spending the entire day in the ER, it turns out she may have a bacterial infection which is preventing her from being able to eat because it's irritating the radiated area and causing constant retching and vomiting. She was very weak as I brought her in for her IV fluids. We've been through this before and it's hard to listen to her beg me to help her, because I lack any ability to give her what she needs, unless it's a hug. As if that weren't enough, two minutes after I brought her into the Comprehensive Cancer Center, as I am checking her in at the nurses desk, I hear a loud crash, a scream and the following words loud and clear: "IT'S A CODE."
The next few seconds seemed like a lifetime because they happened in slow motion but I turn around, only to find out that my mom had passed out and wasn't breathing. Or we weren't sure she was breathing. It's cliche, but it was an out of body experience. It was as if I was watching the whole thing in slow motion. I remember about 10 nurses crowded around her along with a few doctors. Mind you, this is all taking place in the waiting room. I don't remember much.... Some wonderful woman came over, put her arms around me and kept telling me it was going to be OK. I don't know who she was and where she went after that, but for a brief moment, she was my hero and exactly what I needed.
Because my mom was having chest pain, they wheeled her off to the ER to make sure she didn't have a heart attack. What the Fuck? Cancer... now HEART ATTACK. what happened next is a whirlwind and needs an entire blog post --- I had the panic attack to end all panic attacks. More on that at a later date but to write about that now is more than I can handle.
In the end, my mom is OK and resting comfortably. I was told by the GI doc and the oncologist that she was in the best place now and they were going to do everything to make her feel better. No one seemed to think the tumor has grown. They are all still positive about her diagnosis and multiple medical professionals assured me, "this is all completely normal." We were begged by her and the doctors to go home and rest (yeah right, like that could ever fucking happen). After hours of the sitting and waiting, I finally acquiesced and came home to relax. Several glasses of wine, a few klonipin and a warm jacuzzi bath later, I felt better.
....then I turned on Glee. What happens in the first 5 minutes but the widower father of one of the characters has a heart attack. The rest of the episode focuses on religion but more moving than anything is Kurt's rendition of "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" which gives the song a perspective I would have never imagined. It was sung as a child to their parent-- asking to hold their hand, because they needed that closeness as confirmation that everything was going to be OK. It forced me to think of my mom, sitting in that hospital bed, which only led my thoughts to --- what am I going to do if I lose my mom? I wish I were there holding HER hand right now. Holding her hand would give me the comfort that I have been yearning for the last 2 months. I hate to say she's all I have because I have an amazing husband and a beautiful healthy daughter but she's the only mom that I have.
So much for watching TV to relax and unwind. But does this happen to anyone else? Life literally imitating art?
Thank God for the hilarity of Jeff Lewis but dude, my day was rough. Stay tuned for a review of the nervous breakdown.
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