Don't Hurt Me, Doctor!

Monday about 3:30, the babysitter calls to say Zachary has a low-grade fever and is complaining that his right ear hurts. We don't take any chances since the febrile seizure (read...we are OCD about fever prevention) so we took him to the twilight clinic that evening.

One of the intern doctors was seeing patients...don't know his last name, but his first was Craig. He was really nice and very good with Zachary. He explained that he had to look in his ear and Zach was all up for that, just kept telling him that his ear hurt.

As soon as Dr. Craig started to take a look, Zach panicked a bit...he started saying "Don't hurt me, doctor." Each time he said it, he got a little louder. Dr. Craig's first mistake was saying he would not hurt the boy. (Word of advice: don't tell a kid something will not hurt, when you just aren't that sure!) He kept having to get a bit of wax out and each time, Zachary flinched a bit more. The final time, Dr. Craig must've really went for it, because Zach started trembling and clenching his fists and yelling "YOU HURT ME! YOU HURT MEEEEEEEEE" followed by sobs and bucketloads of tears. I just held his head against my chest and wanted to cry with him.

The doctor felt really bad, but he wasn't finished. He told Zach that he'd still have to look in there. Zach was pretty adamant that he didn't do that, but finally relented. Bingo, ear infection number one of the winter. And now...mommy has the illness that caused the baby's ear infection...oh joy!

"I don't love you; I'm mad at you; Don't touch me!"

Yes, those words all spewed out of my child's mouth a few days ago...all of them at once, followed by him laying prone on the bed waiting for my reaction. Now, what horrible act on my part caused this? I'm still not really sure, however; it must've been me telling him to be quiet and lay down as it was time for sleep.

I have to admit the first time I heard him tell me he didn't love me, I cried. It had been a long day and I needed the unconditional love of my child. So that reaction has been my demise. Now, anytime I ask him to do something he doesn't want to do, he pouts for a few minutes then says "I don't love you." He's said it a lot the past few days. I don't want it to hurt my feelings, but it stings every time he says it. Although, my reaction now is far from crying. I've resolved to either tell him that's rude, ugly, etc. or to not react at all and just say okay, so you say.

I hope this habit ends quickly as I am getting more and more perturbed by it each day.

It has made me stop and think about my reaction to my heavenly Father when he asks something of me. I do tend to grumble and gripe and occasionally I don't feel love for him. I know that won't be a popular thing to say, but sometimes human emotions can be raw. How many times has he beckoned me to read my Bible a little longer, pray a little longer, treat someone nicer, give more sacrificially, love more unconditionally, be less judgemental and on and on? My reaction is probably more often than not one that nonverbally tells him I don't love him. He must be frustrated with me. Man these kids teach us so many lessons!!!

Crowns, wannabe princes and an ode to cokes

So my dentist made the very unpopular decision that my back molar needed a crown after the umpteenth crack and/or chip. (I blame this all on the other dentist, whom I will not name, who didn't treat this tooth right years ago). Anyway, I knew it was going to be rough because they can never get me numb. They will give me all the novocaine the law will allow and my entire face will be impalpable, but my jaw will still feel the drill! Needless to say, I am the ideal candidate for sedation dentistry, which by all means is a very nice way to nap through a procedure and then the rest of the day! So the actual procedure was painless and I had a great peaceful nap, but then the tooth started hurting like crazy. Every couple of days I called the dentist and they said it had been a very deep filling and thus, would be sore for several days. By the end of week two of my jawache, I'd really had enough so they brought me in and sure enough, the sucker had come loose and my bite was off. It wasn't too bad, I went sans drugs for that adjustment, but it still hurt like he double hockey sticks for a bit. That was Thursday, this is Tuesday and it's FINALLY subsiding to a tolerable level. Then they call this morning and say my perm crown won't be in until a week later than originally planned due to the lab's vacation time. So I get the perm crown on January 13; I tried to postpone it till January 20 so I can be numbed from the pain of two events...the crown and Obama's innauguration, but no luck!

Anyway, lately Zachary has turned into a gripier version on himself. For those of you who don't cohabitate with him, I know this is very hard to believe since he's so stinkin happy everywhere else. But trust me when I say, I'm SO ready for the wannabe prince and terrible twos phase to end! I don't want to fast forward his age, just his behaviour! God blessed me with a very independent-loving, determined, persistent and overly stubborn bundle of joy. Those traits can be very good, but even he doesn't know what to truly do with them yet.

This morning he wanted a bar (his plea for anything that is rectangle and comes in a wrapper...granola bar, fruit bar, etc.) I let him pick it out and try to open it. He couldn't get it all the way open, so allowed me to intervene. Only , when it opened he stomped off and said "No, Not THAT one!!!" I was dumbfounded since it was all his idea and he picked it out. So I took a bite to show him it was fine....wrong action. He freaked on me and ran into the corner of kitchen cabinets and began crying and yelling no, that he wanted a banana or candy or whatever he could think of to scream. I just watched and tried to plan my distracting technique. I thought "hmm, he LOVES the camera...hmmmm." So I went to get it and then started taking pictures of his tantrum as he laid prone on the floor. Well, that didn't go over too well and he just looked up at me red-faced and bawling and started screaming at me not to take his picture.

I just left him to his fit and went about getting ready. He pretty much carried on this way until we got to the baby sitter's and his yogurt magically ended the tantrum. I didn't try to brush his hair though; I didn't want to press my luck. I left my camera card at home or I would post a pic of the tantrum on here...so he could look at it later when he raids my computer haha. Oh well, I can always add it later! God love him, he's just so TWO!

So I'm swearing off cokes this week...yes any carbonated beverage is a sworn enemy this week. I don't need them, as evidenced by my nearly 6 pound weight loss yesterday on water alone...WOW is that even possible? Here is my ode to the carmely-colored, fizzy beverage.

Oh the joy I have felt
When at first your fumes I smelt.

The sound you make when I open the can
is more satisfying than any well-conceived plan.

Your glorious taste on my tongue
reminds me of when I was so young.

The sadness I feel when I drink the last drop
is worse than when I got stopped by that cop.

We will meet again, you and me
but on a less-frequent basis, you will see.

For I am not fond of feeling puffed up
so with you no more will I sup.

You've taken up residence too long and I'm kicking you OUT!