I am constantly keeping tabs on myself to be sure I include all of my top-notch parenting moments in my application for “Mom of the Year.” I’m not sure where exactly to send it, but I’ve got a pretty strong dossier started.
For example, we recently had a ‘photo shoot’ for Blair’s one-year pictures. It included both girls in tutus painting canvases in our driveway. Now, I did my research and chose non-toxic acrylic paint. But, I was still a little freaked-out when Blair put a couple of fistfuls in her mouth.
But not freaked-out enough to stop the photographer (I mean, how cute will those pictures be?!?!?). In fact, I didn’t really start to worry until after baths when Blair was having her bottle. I was discussing it with Susu, and she sort of freaked me out a little (Thanks a lot Susu – you just HAVE to make me care about my kids! Sheesh!). So, I called Poison Control. And the call went like this:
Me: “Um, yes. My 1-year-old put some acrylic paint in her mouth. I don’t think she swallowed any, and I cleaned her mouth out with a towel and gave her some water. Weeeellll, she actually put some in her mouth twice. But I cleaned it out both times! And gave her water to drink. Both times.” (In my head I’m thinking “Stop talking, you idiot – you are only making things worse!”)
Operator: “And how long ago did your daughter put the paint in her mouth?”
Me: “Oh, about an hour and a half ago? Maybe two hours?”
Operator: Silence … followed a few seconds later by an, “Oh. Wow. Okay.”
Which I can only assume translated to something along the lines of “Huh. Well, if you were worried enough to call Poison Control you probably should have done so a few minutes after your daughter put the paint in her mouth. Not NINETY minutes later!!” (and let’s be honest, it was probably closer to 2 1/2 hours).
Obviously, Blair was fine. I KNEW she would be fine. I just needed them to assure me she would be.
They did ask me for my address to send “an informational packet of stickers and magnets” to our house. Which I can only assume translates to “a representative from Child Protective Services.”
Oh? What’s that you say MOTY Committee? You need another recent example? Sure:
Those of you who know Paige know that when she gets sleepy her eyes get a little … what’s the PC way to say it? Crossed.
So, she’s been seeing a pediatric opthamologist to keep an eye on things (HA! See what I did there? Keep an eye on things?!?! Totally unintentional, but hilarious).
I was noticing the other day that it seemed to be getting a little worse, and my next thought was that I’m pretty sure her last appointment was right after Blair was born. And I know they wanted to see her at least once a year, if not every six months. I wondered if I maybe forgot to transfer the appointment when I switched from a paper calendar to iCal. THEN, I remembered that we got rid of our home phone, so I bet they called to tell me about the appointment and they got a message that our line had been disconnected and they didn’t have my cell phone number and they didn’t know how to get a hold of us to make sure Paige came in.
Whew. See how exhausting that was to read? Imagine how the receptionist at Midwest Eye Institute felt as an over-caffeinated me made the call to explain all of this to her.
So, she said it was no problem – she’d just pull up Paige’s record and we could reschedule the appointment.
Oops, Mrs. Feldmann. It looks like you did miss an appointment. In February. And it’s taken you until June to even think about the fact that you might need to get your cross-eyed little girl in her for a check-up.
I got this competition in the bag, people. Locked up tight.