Doctor Visit

So this morning I am awoken at 6:50 a.m. to my 6-year-old toting her pillow to my room. Figuring she had had a bad dream, couldn't sleep, whatever, I started to make room for her in bed. Then she got closer and I noticed that her pink pillow was covered with blood, looking like maybe her ear had fallen off at some point in the night. Another nosebleed. This is probably the fifth or sixth one in six weeks. Enough of the guessing, time for the dreaded trip to the germ capital of the world -- the pediatrician's office. Gotta make sure there's no sinus infection living up there.

So after the requisite BP check, weight check, the pediatrician bee-bops in the door -- not in a chatty mood (It's Monday after all.) He takes one look in her throat, asks me literally two questions and says no infection, just scabs in her nose and then tells me to put Vaseline on a Q-tip, insert (Yeah, I know. I gagged and so did Syd.) and rub it onto the inside of her nose twice a day for a week.

I said, "Well, I just wanted to make sure she didn't have any swelling, infection, etc., because she's complaining of pain, too." He said, "No swelling, just irritation." The man did not even make an attempt at looking in her nose. How does he know she has no swelling in there? She could have a whole serving of macaroni up there for all he knows because HE DIDN'T TAKE THE TIME TO LOOK! So frustrating.

This is the second doctor we've had to go to at this particular pediatrician's office because the first doctor under-diagnosed Kelsey on more than one occasion and we ended up once in the E.R. the same night for severe ear infection (not just the cold she had been diagnosed with four hours before) and once back at the doctor's office the same day for strep throat (not just *seasonal allergies*, as the lovely doctor had told us that morning.) I guess I'm gonna have to start searching out a new group. Ugh.

But for now Sydney has dried up and is sleeping off her early wake-up call. Guess I'm on Vaseline duty at bedtime tonight. Yippee. If this post is not a major advertisement for birth control, I don't know what is!

Crazy Parents

The Knoxville News-Sentinel today has an article about why sports parents are so crazy, so pushy these days. A topic after my own heart. After what feels like a bazillion years as the wife of the coach, God knows I've seen and heard just about every negative, ignorant, irresponsible crazy rant there is about the coach.

"Why isn't Junior playing shortstop? He's played shortstop since he was 4." (Even though Junior now is as slow as my 82 year old grandmother and hasn't fielded a ball cleanly since the opening scrimmage.)

"Why is Junior bunting? Don't these idiots know he's a power hitter?" (Even though Junior is averaging maybe .150 in his last 15 at bats and his only prayer of seeing first base is with a successful bunt.)

"Why did those morons have the steal on?" "Don't they know we have two outs?" (Even though the steal sign wasn't on and Junior just decided -- down by a run in the bottom of the 8th inning with two outs -- he now has the speed of former Olympian Carl Lewis.)

In the Sentinel article, Coach Bill Young says that he and his wife came up with a policy to deal with the parent problem. They weren't going to be friends with the parents of the players on the team. They would be cordial, but would not have any close personal relationships.
Best idea ever, period.

Over the years, Joe and I have made our own peace with the no friend attitude. I dutifully march to the outfield at the beginning of every game (or at least as far away from the parent bleachers as I can), far enough away that I can not hear the whispers, the groans, the curses and the outright bashing of my husband and other family members who have so unselfishly agreed to coach these various teams. I have heard from different people that some of the other moms think I'm a *snob*, antisocial, etc. because I don't interact the way I should. That used to bother me tremendously. Nobody likes being the butt of jokes or gossip talk. But I just believe that a necessary part of surviving when your child plays competitive sports and your husband coaches is keeping a safe distance from the other parents.
From the looks of things, I guess I'll be an outfield mom for several more years to come. With both the girls playing softball now, it's only gonna get more interesting!

For more on this article, follow the link. http://knoxnews.com/news/2007/jul/29/the-vice/

No Training Wheels

Well, Sydney decided tonight was the night to let go of the training wheels. She begged her dad all day to teach her and after about 4 hours of putting her off, he finally said yes. So we all dutifully traipsed outside to watch. Joe took the training wheels off and gave the tires a little extra air while Sydney, with great seriousness, strapped on her knee pads, elbow pads and her helmet. I use the term *helmet* loosely because it is now nothing more than the styrofoam insert from her pink Barbie helmet! After getting all geared up, she asked me if there was some kind of pad to protect her belly. I assured her she would be fine and off we went.

After lots of discussion about who was the one actually running through the cul-de-sac behind her bike, I finally got elected (much to the delight of our neighbors, I am sure). I put one hand under her seat, steadied her handle bars and off she went. To make a long story short (too late!), after an hour and a half of falling to the asphalt, dodging parked cars and her sister (who decided she needed to ride, too), she FINALLY got it! Woohoo!

Granted, she just goes around in a circle to the right at this point! But either way, she's doing it alone and she couldn't be prouder of herself. After she realized she was going it alone, she couldn't wipe the smile off of her face. She pumped her hands into the air and squealed for joy after she got herself stopped. It was, I have to say, one of the greatest moments I've ever had. Pure joy!

Way to go, Syd!