An Attempt at Good Parenting.

I remember all through my childhood, watching my parents and other adults, and taking notes on what they did, as 'grown ups'. I remember thinking that there were some things that I was DEFINITELY going to do differently when I was the 'grown up'

• I was NEVER going to watch "the news" instead of cartoons.
• MY kids were going to be allowed to stay up as late as they wanted.
• I was not going to be the 'boring' grown up, and not talk to or 'be friends' with kids.  

Well......fast forward to now. I am 25 years old, a wife, and a mother of two small children. I guess I can safely call myself a "grown up" now. (though for the life of me it is still WIERD!!)  I look back on my juvenile expectations of adulthood and I realize that, I have fallen victim to whatever happens to kids when they grow up that makes them, not what they thought they would be. This is not to say that I am a completely boring grown up, I have put forth a great deal of effort to stay somewhat relatable to my kids at the very least. However, 

• I DO watch the news instead of cartoons, and do not find it mind numbingly boring (as my younger self did, and felt that she would forever) I do still watch some cartoons though if anyone remembers this post, you will understand how I feel about the cartoons being made today.
• I concede that my parents were.......right, and in a valiant attempt to maintain some semblance of sanity, I work very hard to enforce a bedtime.
• I still do my best to be friendly to people of all ages, including children, so this plan hasn't changed. I had many friends as a child who were grown up and I have fond memories of these people, I hope I can have the opportunity to impact some 'young people' as well

I spend most of every day attempting to do the very best I can for my small, impressionable children. I want nothing more than for them to look at me someday and feel warm, snuggly, fuzzy feelings about me, not unlike my own warm feelings towards my own awesome parents ( Love ya Momma, and Daddy!)

  This past week I feel that I have been tested in the paradoxical nature of this desire. This past week, both of my children have been keeping me busy. Andrew started with these horrid coughing fits that were causing him to gag, and also had a pretty gnarly runny nose. I got him in to the doctor of course (again trying to keep up the whole "good mom" thing)  and naturally he was diagnosed with an upper respiratory infection, as well as, bronchitis. We got the good cough syrup, and antibiotic and were good to go. He got through it quite nicely. Aubrey of course, did not allow me quite the same level of ease.

MISERABLE baby girl!

 She (naturally) came down with the very same illness three days later. I knew it was the same because the coughing was the same. Being that she is not quite six months old though, she was hit significantly harder. I went ahead and got her into the doctor as well, and, whaddaya know, she does, in fact, have the same infection as her big brother! She was SO miserable! I have never seen her so lethargic! We got the antibiotic, but the doc would not give us a decongestant because of her age. I knew that I would have to resort to the aspirator (a.k.a 'the nose sucky thing' a.k.a. 'the blue, device of ultimate torture'))

light, blue, rubber, torture device

There is nothing more heartbreaking than listening to my baby daughter, hot with a 102 degree fever, trying to breathe through a nasal passage, that is almost entirely flooded with nasty, thick, gooey, mucous, unless it is trying to hold my miserable, sick baby still, while I jam a little rubber tube up her nose and essentially vacuum out the terrible, nasal viscosity. The look she gets in her little, blue eyes, makes me want to cry! It is a look of complete, and utter terror!  I feel like the monster living under the bed, come to life and reflected in my petrified baby's eyes. I apologize fruitlessly. I know that doing this ( clearing my baby's airway's so that she is able to breathe) is   a GOOD thing, and makes me a caring/good parent. However, I cannot help the feeling of rotten-ness, in the infliction of this ultimate discomfort to my little baby girl! This is my paradox! I wish I could make her understand how important and necessary it is! But alas, all she knows is that the horrible, blue, torture device makes her life even more of a living hell, while she feels so miserable!

I wish I could explain that I am just trying to be helpful! I like to think that she might look at me, smile a little, sniff, and say, "I know Mom, you are doing what I cannot do for myself, and really, it does make me feel better!"  However if I am realistic with myself I know that what she would actually say is, "Mom, not cool.......not cool AT ALL! I don't see how ramming that thing up both of my nostrils is supposed to be ANY kind of 'helpful'. I think you are sick and twisted and, you had better be getting things all situated under your shirt with that nursing bra, right now, because.....you owe me.......BIG TIME!"

*sigh*

 I AM a good mom, I AM a good mom, I AM a good mom.................