Little One's Lexicon

Things I need to learn to say/not say:

Okay: All right. Not okay: Okay.
Okay: What do you want? Not okay: What's up? (In response to her calling me.)
Okay: Yes. Not okay: Yep.

To be continued...

Relief

I have a friend who is a pediatrician. She assures me that the itching private parts are most likely due to poor hygiene and probably no one is abusing my sweetheart. Phew.

In my effort to forestall future moments of dehydration, I am trying a spearmint. (That is infantile-Foster-Ima for "experiment.") Snack size zipper bag, filled with water, three drops of food coloring, stick in the freezer. Snip off a tiny corner and voila, a cool-looking but flavor (and sugar) free ice pop. (Voila, stain in a bag. Hm, hadn't thought about that...)

More butt kicking

Her vagina itches. Fabulous. Eczema? Maybe. Probably. I think so. I hope so. I hope nothing worse.

Fate, kicking me in the rear end.

[Note: I'm not really sure it's fate doing the kicking. But my brain isn't on 100% at the moment. And my rear end really is getting kicked.]

Let's just start with the minor stuff, shall we?

First, there was that huge lack of sleep thing last night.

Second, perhaps because of the lack of sleep, this morning we had a Sabrina complaining of an upset tummy (my diagnosis? she was tired). Then my brain was befuddled and even though the time 8:15 was sticking in my head, it was sticking in my head as the time we needed to leave, not the time we needed to be at school. So we left 15 minutes late when I realized I was being stupid.

Third, after I dropped Sabrina off at school, I was on auto-pilot and turned the wrong way on the busy road nearest her school. So I had to drive around a few blocks in a not-great neighborhood that I'm not familiar with.

Then (fourth) I got thoroughly and hopelessly lost trying to find the parking garage at the subway station by Sabrina's school. It took a half hour to find. (I should add that the subway station is literally across the street from her school. But the school is on a cul de sac that has a cut-through to the street with the subway station, but the cut-through is supposedly only for emergency vehicles.)

Work was fine. Really and truly fine. A bit stressful because I was trying to take a deadline seriously and the person who is training me wasn't there, and I didn't have access to the system that I needed. But fine.

Then I had to leave a little bit earlier than I planned because yet another person attempted (I haven't followed up on the outcome) suicide by subway and there were delays on the line I needed to take to get to Sabrina's school.

All was well for a few hours. Sabrina got registered in aftercare, I went to the grocery store, I went back and picked her up (she reported that they sat doing nothing for 2 hours, but I doubt it!), and she fell asleep in the car about 5 minutes from home.

And then.

Oh, and then.

She wouldn't wake up. Major freak out. I called 911, continued to freak out, but remarkably remained fairly calm. And about 30 seconds before the ambulance arrived, she opened her eyes. Her oxygen levels were fine, and she even got out of the car by herself, so I opted out of going to the hospital. (Oh please G-d let that have been a reasoned decision and not motivated by the milk and fish that were warming/thawing as this adventure was going on.)

My guess is that she is dehydrated, but I can't force feed her water or apple juice. She's (not quite) sleeping on the sofa and I have the air conditioning on full blast.

So much for taking a bath, and doing laundry (we have no clean underwear...well, I have clean underwear, but Sabrina doesn't). At least Sabrina is doing better.

Please, let day two of working parenthood be better than day one!

Day one of working parenthood

Hello, stress.

Today I have to do the following (besides getting Sabrina to wear clean underpants):

1. find the parking lot at the subway station near Sabrina's school
2. work
3. enroll Sabrina in aftercare
4. go grocery shopping (we need bread, milk, moisturizing cream, and I'm not sure what I'm forgetting)
5. call Sabrina's doctor to ask about her allergies
6. do laundry
7. give Sabrina a bath
8. make a healthy dinner

Not all in that order. Plus we both slept like cr@p last night (I'm mostly blaming my poor sleep on her waking up 6 or 7 times; I really don't know why she had to wake me up at 4:30 when her earring came out).

Today we see how well the "no coke" resolution goes.

Clean underpants

Sabrina is not wearing them.

I am currently being mean and not helping her to button her dress. I told her that I would help as soon as she puts on clean underpants. Since I'm not helping, I am mean. I am bossing her around.

I confess that it is my fault that she has only one clean pair of underpants. She wants to wear them on Friday. "Sabrina, you can wear them today AND Friday." "NO!!"

I personally feel that clean underpants aren't so much to ask, since I'm letting her wear a dirty undershirt and winter tights, and yesterday's underpants are kind of gross from some sliding down a concrete hill on her bottom, and I don't know if they were clean when she put them on (though I assume they were). However, she seems to disagree.

The part of this that is the funniest? They are day of the week underpants--for Wednesday.

Spring break

If you are like me, you have about 27 hundred foster/adoption blogs in your google reader and don't actually notice when any one individual blogger takes a day or two or eleven off. (Um, hi! I love you all, even if I don't notice when you fall off the face of the earth because your child has attempted to flush you down the toilet!)

But in case you, you know, are a better person than I am, I thought I should poke my head up for a quick hello.

Sabrina is with her dad for spring break. She comes back Tuesday afternoon; I have a friend picking her up from school since it is the last day of Passover and I am therefore unable to drive, and let me tell you, as much as Sabrina thinks it would be fun to walk home from school, she wouldn't make it the multiple miles and by the way, highway? Not so friendly for pedestrians.

I've decided I need to have guests for lunch on Tuesday so that I don't accidentally nap through Sabrina getting home, but half of my first batch of invitees have declined already. People! I have food! I want to give it to you! Oh well, their loss.

In actual foster parenting related news, I got a big envelope from the agency last week with a single sheet of paper (and we wonder why the city is having budget problems) telling me to save the date for a "Summit!" But it didn't say what the date of said Summit! is. Brilliant. (Or, for that matter, what said Summit! is.)

At least it isn't asking me for money. On Friday I got an invitation to join the local foster parent association. The one that I only know about because of my previous professional involvement with my agency. According to the invitation letter, it is a "time of great change for foster care" in our city and "it will take everyday citizens like you and I to assist in the change." The letter doesn't say what the association does, but I am welcome to pay $35 for the privilege of joining. I should send cash to the executive director who just happens to share a last name with the president. Sure, let me just get out my wallet.