It's the one thing I was dreading...the most natural instinctive action first thing in the morning is to rub your eye - especially one that's had ointment kohl-ed into it the previous night. For all my hawkeyed monitoring, I couldn't grab the kiddo's hand in time to stop a solitary rub of his eyelid (yes, the one that had been operated on). An hour later, the eyelid was swollen and I was panicking.
His doctor was going to be in surgery today, but his assistant asked us to bring the kid along by 2 pm anyway. When we go there, we learnt that the surgeon was going to be delayed because two unexpected cases had come in. We finally met another surgeon, who said - bless him - that the eye was 90% healed and that swelling could be expected. It was likely a result of that one rub in the morning, but that was nothing to worry about. Phew!
The doctor who saw him also allowed him an hour of TV every day, in bursts of 30 minutes each. But that wasn't enough for the kid - he was still fixated on getting a Lego set.
It's well nigh impossible to find a choice of Lego sets in Bangalore. And Lego doesn't ship to India so you can't buy the stuff online either. Most sets are imported and therefore really expensive. He has an old one of mine he plays with, courtesy my mother who has the of preserving stuff like new. And we've managed to buy a few smaller vehicle kits (an ambulance and a race car) every now and then without breaking the bank. But now he's been wanting another set which is way beyond any reasonable price for a set of plastic pieces, no matter how legendary they are. Don't get me wrong - I'm a great fan of Lego - but this is just getting to be a bit much. The hospital visit meant I got into the office only by 3.30pm and left by 8.30pm. By that time, all the shops were downing shutters. I thought I'd convinced him on the phone about the delay to tomorrow, but even as I'm writing this, he's sulking - and looking quite like he's going to throw a tantrum - about having to wait 23 hours for a Lego set, instead of the 6-7 hours he'd imagined. Talk about wanting instant gratification... (to add to which my cold and cough is now so bad that my voice is cracked and the pain is just about bearable with a couple of painkillers!)
Anyway, I'm just glad the swelling was nothing to be scared of. Now to go manage the tantrum before it turns into a full blown epic battle.... sigh.
Showing posts with label Tantrums. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tantrums. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Monday, January 19, 2009
Post-cryo eye exam & Back to school
I made a big mistake this morning. I told my son that his eye exam today would not involve dilation drops. I thought I was right because the doctor had never had his eyes dilated so soon after a round of cryo. But this time he did, and I was in the dock for my 'false promise'.
Worse, it took inordinately long for our turn to come (which meant I didn't get to work until lunch!) during which time the little rascal whined and whined (until we forced him to eat something - he was better after that.)
When we finally got to the doctor, he said the cryo had been effective. The next check will be in late April/early May.
We had a bite to eat at the hospital canteen (they make the most wonderful idlis - Munchkin's favourite food after 'red chicken') but had to wait some more because a couple of details on his discharge summary were incorrect. In fact, there are still some errors - but we didn't have the time - and I didn't have the patience - to wait around some more.
I actually wanted to take an autorickshaw and go to the office straight from the hospital, but DH said they would drop me in the car. And then we go into a series of some seriously demented traffic jams, during which time the cacophonous offspring nearly drove me deaf and mad. I made some very loud threats and sulked for the hour it took to travel 12 km!
Anyway, the little tyke goes back to school tomorrow. I need to have a word with his class teacher not to mollycoddle him needlessly. I'm a bit worried about Munchkin's behavior - he's been trying to leverage this condition to get new toys and eat junk food. And constantly whines! About the stupidest things. I'm at my wits' end, trying to balance his tantrums with his eye condition. I hope his teacher has better luck!
Worse, it took inordinately long for our turn to come (which meant I didn't get to work until lunch!) during which time the little rascal whined and whined (until we forced him to eat something - he was better after that.)
When we finally got to the doctor, he said the cryo had been effective. The next check will be in late April/early May.
We had a bite to eat at the hospital canteen (they make the most wonderful idlis - Munchkin's favourite food after 'red chicken') but had to wait some more because a couple of details on his discharge summary were incorrect. In fact, there are still some errors - but we didn't have the time - and I didn't have the patience - to wait around some more.
I actually wanted to take an autorickshaw and go to the office straight from the hospital, but DH said they would drop me in the car. And then we go into a series of some seriously demented traffic jams, during which time the cacophonous offspring nearly drove me deaf and mad. I made some very loud threats and sulked for the hour it took to travel 12 km!
Anyway, the little tyke goes back to school tomorrow. I need to have a word with his class teacher not to mollycoddle him needlessly. I'm a bit worried about Munchkin's behavior - he's been trying to leverage this condition to get new toys and eat junk food. And constantly whines! About the stupidest things. I'm at my wits' end, trying to balance his tantrums with his eye condition. I hope his teacher has better luck!
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Cryo postponed, tantrums extended
Munchkin's cryo treatment got postponed last Wednesday. This time, he was aware that he hadn't eaten anything since Tuesday's dinner (late, at 10 pm) and worse, he wasn't the first in line for his procedure at the hospital. There were three babies - all under 2 years old - ahead of him.
It was tough on him: the little tyke kept saying he was hungry every half hour. Only my mother had the fortitude to keep him occupied for over two hours. At noon, a doctor from the OR said that an emergency implant surgery on an infant was taking far longer than expected. The earliest the OR would be free was 2 pm, but it could be longer. Munchkin's doctor too came out and said it might be better to reschedule the procedure for Thursday since the little fellow must be hungry.
So that's what we did - fed Munchkin and left the hospital.
After a quick lunch of McDonalds - coz Poppet wanted the toy that came with it, this time the hippo from Madagascar 2 - wherein the drive thru messed up our order (again!), I trudged to work to tackle work handed by a rather arrogant individual (long story, and not meant for this blog).
We normally get Poppet a small toy after his procedure - and this time, although the cryo was cancelled, he was adamant that he wanted a toy. He wanted mum to take him out in the afternoon - this is on a hot and sunny day, with no transportation available since we'd taken the car - so she called me and made me promise I or his father would get him something on our way back from the office. I spent a few harrowing hours at work while DH managed to pick up something for the kid at a toy store. We were late getting back and while speaking to my mother on the phone, Poppet came on the line. He asked his dad what he'd got for him and his father happened to say it was something small.
When we reached home (mum's home - in the same building) I found mum crying. Poppet was slightly insolent and I pretty much guessed what had happened. Ever since he'd learnt that the toy was 'something small' he'd taken off on my mother, saying she was "responsible" for the inadequate size of the toy. Under normal circumstances, mum would have given him a quiet dressing down (don't ask, she has her ways, and they involve no screaming and shouting, unlike yours truly). But she was already falling to pieces over his condition and him being hungry for more than half a day and having to go through the whole process again the following day. So she just broke down.
I felt it was inexcusable the way he'd behaved. He said he was sorry after he saw that his 'small' toy was actually a gorgeous racing car. But I couldn't get over his behavior so he got a stern lecture from me.
Later that night, I cried for a while after he'd gone to sleep, trying to tell myself that what I'd done was right. My head said it was, but my heart wouldn't forgive me. I still feel terrible about it - like a lesser being or something for having done what I did
It was tough on him: the little tyke kept saying he was hungry every half hour. Only my mother had the fortitude to keep him occupied for over two hours. At noon, a doctor from the OR said that an emergency implant surgery on an infant was taking far longer than expected. The earliest the OR would be free was 2 pm, but it could be longer. Munchkin's doctor too came out and said it might be better to reschedule the procedure for Thursday since the little fellow must be hungry.
So that's what we did - fed Munchkin and left the hospital.
After a quick lunch of McDonalds - coz Poppet wanted the toy that came with it, this time the hippo from Madagascar 2 - wherein the drive thru messed up our order (again!), I trudged to work to tackle work handed by a rather arrogant individual (long story, and not meant for this blog).
We normally get Poppet a small toy after his procedure - and this time, although the cryo was cancelled, he was adamant that he wanted a toy. He wanted mum to take him out in the afternoon - this is on a hot and sunny day, with no transportation available since we'd taken the car - so she called me and made me promise I or his father would get him something on our way back from the office. I spent a few harrowing hours at work while DH managed to pick up something for the kid at a toy store. We were late getting back and while speaking to my mother on the phone, Poppet came on the line. He asked his dad what he'd got for him and his father happened to say it was something small.
When we reached home (mum's home - in the same building) I found mum crying. Poppet was slightly insolent and I pretty much guessed what had happened. Ever since he'd learnt that the toy was 'something small' he'd taken off on my mother, saying she was "responsible" for the inadequate size of the toy. Under normal circumstances, mum would have given him a quiet dressing down (don't ask, she has her ways, and they involve no screaming and shouting, unlike yours truly). But she was already falling to pieces over his condition and him being hungry for more than half a day and having to go through the whole process again the following day. So she just broke down.
I felt it was inexcusable the way he'd behaved. He said he was sorry after he saw that his 'small' toy was actually a gorgeous racing car. But I couldn't get over his behavior so he got a stern lecture from me.
Later that night, I cried for a while after he'd gone to sleep, trying to tell myself that what I'd done was right. My head said it was, but my heart wouldn't forgive me. I still feel terrible about it - like a lesser being or something for having done what I did
Friday, February 15, 2008
Where did my happy baby go?
Look at my last few posts and you'll realize that things are going downhill with Munchkin. Putting him to sleep at night and then getting him ready in the morning saps me of all my energy. This morning, things got really bad. I was so wound up that I threw up afterwards. Actually, getting him to do anything is a problem. The sleeping and get-ready-for-school routines are particularly bad because they involve multiple steps and a time limit.
He cries - nay, hooowwwwlllls - about everything. Nudge him a little to get off the sofa and brush his teeth and he explodes into: "Why did you push me? Does anybody push a little child like that? You hurt me! Waaaah....." followed by "You made me cry again! You make me cry all the time." And this is with real tears streaming down his cheeks - most of the time anyway!
From getting out of bed, brushing his teeth, drinking his milk, having a shower and eating his breakfast, every step is like climbing Mount Everest - without oxygen. In the night, it's worse. Here is a kid who gets more than enough physical exercise in the evenings - playing in the park, riding his bicycle, running around, etc. He yawns and yawns but he won't close his eyes. How on earth am I supposed to get him to do that?
We're all terrified the excess crying will hurt his Coats eye. The condition is unpredictable to begin with and we have no idea what can make it worse (apart from the whole altitude fluctuation thing.) It doesn't stop me from being strict with him but it wears me out to get every little job done with threats/bribes/endless cajoling.
I've thought of a hundred ways to improve the situation and made no progress with a single one. Must keep on trying, of course. But it is getting more and more difficult by the day.
He cries - nay, hooowwwwlllls - about everything. Nudge him a little to get off the sofa and brush his teeth and he explodes into: "Why did you push me? Does anybody push a little child like that? You hurt me! Waaaah....." followed by "You made me cry again! You make me cry all the time." And this is with real tears streaming down his cheeks - most of the time anyway!
From getting out of bed, brushing his teeth, drinking his milk, having a shower and eating his breakfast, every step is like climbing Mount Everest - without oxygen. In the night, it's worse. Here is a kid who gets more than enough physical exercise in the evenings - playing in the park, riding his bicycle, running around, etc. He yawns and yawns but he won't close his eyes. How on earth am I supposed to get him to do that?
We're all terrified the excess crying will hurt his Coats eye. The condition is unpredictable to begin with and we have no idea what can make it worse (apart from the whole altitude fluctuation thing.) It doesn't stop me from being strict with him but it wears me out to get every little job done with threats/bribes/endless cajoling.
I've thought of a hundred ways to improve the situation and made no progress with a single one. Must keep on trying, of course. But it is getting more and more difficult by the day.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
A pain in the head, literally!
I haven't posted anything in a few days, mainly because I've just emerged from the worst migraine attack I've ever suffered. I had it in college, but never to the point of nausea and feeling like I was about to collapse. Now, this blog is supposed to be my son's so why am I taking up precious space? Well, for starters, it's the little tyke who's partially responsible for this. (Yes dear, you can make me feel guilty about writing this when you're a teenager, but I'm still writing it.)
Ever since he recovered from his illness, he's been ultra-cranky. It's always that way with kids. But this time - probably because his father and I were also sick, and because he's bigger now - we haven't been able to tackle him just as efficiently. Every morning is a dreadful sequence of his father waking him up, him asking for me, me dropping all the kitchen work to get him out of bed (See earlier post: You Wake Me Up So Nicely) and then it gets worse. He refuses to brush his teeth or drink his milk and throws a major tantrum when it's time for his bath. The "reasons" for this slo-mo activity range from "I hate school," and "You never let me watch any TV," to "Why are you always irritating me so much?"
And while I somehow manage to get him to the schoolbus on time, I've been reaching my office pretty late. I hate being late, but that's a different story.
It's the same story in the night: to change his clothes, to wash up, to eat dinner, to sleep. "You don't like me. You want me to be unhappy," he raves. Duh, did I miss a generation? Is 6 the new 13? Mum says it's all part of the recovery: we've seen his behavior deteriorate after an illness before returning to normal. But this time, it's taken a major toll on my health. The migraines stem from being too sleep deprived for too long. I hope to rectify matters when DH takes off on a week-long official trip next Monday. Somehow, it's always been easier to bring him back on track when there's only one parent around. Keeping my fingers crossed...
Ever since he recovered from his illness, he's been ultra-cranky. It's always that way with kids. But this time - probably because his father and I were also sick, and because he's bigger now - we haven't been able to tackle him just as efficiently. Every morning is a dreadful sequence of his father waking him up, him asking for me, me dropping all the kitchen work to get him out of bed (See earlier post: You Wake Me Up So Nicely) and then it gets worse. He refuses to brush his teeth or drink his milk and throws a major tantrum when it's time for his bath. The "reasons" for this slo-mo activity range from "I hate school," and "You never let me watch any TV," to "Why are you always irritating me so much?"
And while I somehow manage to get him to the schoolbus on time, I've been reaching my office pretty late. I hate being late, but that's a different story.
It's the same story in the night: to change his clothes, to wash up, to eat dinner, to sleep. "You don't like me. You want me to be unhappy," he raves. Duh, did I miss a generation? Is 6 the new 13? Mum says it's all part of the recovery: we've seen his behavior deteriorate after an illness before returning to normal. But this time, it's taken a major toll on my health. The migraines stem from being too sleep deprived for too long. I hope to rectify matters when DH takes off on a week-long official trip next Monday. Somehow, it's always been easier to bring him back on track when there's only one parent around. Keeping my fingers crossed...
Friday, January 18, 2008
Munchkin is Miserable
If Munchkin is miserable, that's a problem for me.
My dear husband (DH) went back to work a little while ago after spending 13 months at home writing a novel. And when he comes back, he grabs a bite and heads straight for the computer. (One of these days I need to post about the fact that I'm an Orkut/GTalk widow!) Now, although the little fellow is busy playing with his friends until it's almost dinner time, he's taken to announcing that he wants to have dinner at my mum's place. Which we found weird at first but the little rascal is quite attached to her. And given his Coats condition, we don't want him to bawl for no reason. So he's been packing up his dinner and heading down, sometimes making quite a fuss about coming back upstairs to sleep.
Worse, his class teacher at school is not coming back this year. A few months back, she had a severe back problem and has had spinal surgery. Poppet's class got several substitutes until the new teacher settled in. He doesn't seem to like her very much. So he's been moaning in the mornings saying he doesn't want to go to school.
But this morning, he was positively miserable. Virtually in tears. Last night, he got a major scolding and spanking from his father for making a huge fuss about going to sleep and how many stories he could get before bed-time. Earlier in the evening, he had cried his eyes out saying he wanted pizza for dinner because we hadn't ordered in for a long time. (This is true, it's been a few months, I think. And his father took up his cause. So the two of them had pizza.) At any rate, the little fellow was quite petrified at the end of it all and I had a tough time calming him down. Then I told him a story and made sure he smiled before he went to sleep.
Now, I've scolded him plenty of times before when he wouldn't sleep on time. Past 11 pm is much too late for a four-year-old and yet, he would simply not sleep before then. His sleeping pattern has caused huge fights between my husband and I. None of it is Munchkin's fault, his father self-confessedly needs food on time, peace and quiet, and 8 hours or more of sleep and goes ballistic if there's any noise in the house when he is in his "I-need---" mode.
Anyway, this morning he got ready after the usual whining but when I was putting him into the van, his eyes were brimming over. I promised him we'd take pictures tonight - he loves the new camera - and that seemed to cheer him up a bit. Nevertheless, he stuck his arm out of the window of the van as it was driving away and yowled: "Bye, Mamma!"
I have a feeling he's feeling neglected. I've never pampered him much. But the thing is, he senses that things have changed around the house now that his dad has returned to full time work. And 13 months is a long time in the life of a six-year-old. For my part, I've made sure I have no chores to do once I'm home except laying the table and heating the food. It was a conscious decision to be able to free up time so I could do whatever he wanted me to do. But I think he misses the stuff he and his father did together. It wasn't all that much, but still, he's just a kid.
I hope to remedy the situation as soon as I can. I did raise the issue - in a roundabout kind of way - with DH, but he put it down to the changes in school. Before she left, his original teacher - whom Munchkin had quite a soft spot for - had told me that he felt unchallenged in class, bored even because he seems to know so much more than the other children. So one solution is to move him to a better school. Tomorrow, we'll know the results of an entrance test he took last Saturday. He didn't know several of the spellings they asked for but did everything else fine, including the addition and coloring. I'm keeping my fingers crossed. There is one other very good school but seats are subject to vacancies - so we'll know about that only in March or even later.
Also, this other school is quite expensive. Since I am sure that I will quit my job at the drop of a hat should my son want me at home, DH may have to support us all for a while. I reminded him of this - important, because what he really wants to do is sit at home and write novels and make a living from that. He says he'll aim for a better position somewhere in a couple of years. I can live with that. At least he's open to the idea.
In the meantime, I need Poppet to be a happy little boy again. His sixth birthday is just around the corner and he deserves to be really, really happy after the tough year he's had.
My dear husband (DH) went back to work a little while ago after spending 13 months at home writing a novel. And when he comes back, he grabs a bite and heads straight for the computer. (One of these days I need to post about the fact that I'm an Orkut/GTalk widow!) Now, although the little fellow is busy playing with his friends until it's almost dinner time, he's taken to announcing that he wants to have dinner at my mum's place. Which we found weird at first but the little rascal is quite attached to her. And given his Coats condition, we don't want him to bawl for no reason. So he's been packing up his dinner and heading down, sometimes making quite a fuss about coming back upstairs to sleep.
Worse, his class teacher at school is not coming back this year. A few months back, she had a severe back problem and has had spinal surgery. Poppet's class got several substitutes until the new teacher settled in. He doesn't seem to like her very much. So he's been moaning in the mornings saying he doesn't want to go to school.
But this morning, he was positively miserable. Virtually in tears. Last night, he got a major scolding and spanking from his father for making a huge fuss about going to sleep and how many stories he could get before bed-time. Earlier in the evening, he had cried his eyes out saying he wanted pizza for dinner because we hadn't ordered in for a long time. (This is true, it's been a few months, I think. And his father took up his cause. So the two of them had pizza.) At any rate, the little fellow was quite petrified at the end of it all and I had a tough time calming him down. Then I told him a story and made sure he smiled before he went to sleep.
Now, I've scolded him plenty of times before when he wouldn't sleep on time. Past 11 pm is much too late for a four-year-old and yet, he would simply not sleep before then. His sleeping pattern has caused huge fights between my husband and I. None of it is Munchkin's fault, his father self-confessedly needs food on time, peace and quiet, and 8 hours or more of sleep and goes ballistic if there's any noise in the house when he is in his "I-need---" mode.
Anyway, this morning he got ready after the usual whining but when I was putting him into the van, his eyes were brimming over. I promised him we'd take pictures tonight - he loves the new camera - and that seemed to cheer him up a bit. Nevertheless, he stuck his arm out of the window of the van as it was driving away and yowled: "Bye, Mamma!"
I have a feeling he's feeling neglected. I've never pampered him much. But the thing is, he senses that things have changed around the house now that his dad has returned to full time work. And 13 months is a long time in the life of a six-year-old. For my part, I've made sure I have no chores to do once I'm home except laying the table and heating the food. It was a conscious decision to be able to free up time so I could do whatever he wanted me to do. But I think he misses the stuff he and his father did together. It wasn't all that much, but still, he's just a kid.
I hope to remedy the situation as soon as I can. I did raise the issue - in a roundabout kind of way - with DH, but he put it down to the changes in school. Before she left, his original teacher - whom Munchkin had quite a soft spot for - had told me that he felt unchallenged in class, bored even because he seems to know so much more than the other children. So one solution is to move him to a better school. Tomorrow, we'll know the results of an entrance test he took last Saturday. He didn't know several of the spellings they asked for but did everything else fine, including the addition and coloring. I'm keeping my fingers crossed. There is one other very good school but seats are subject to vacancies - so we'll know about that only in March or even later.
Also, this other school is quite expensive. Since I am sure that I will quit my job at the drop of a hat should my son want me at home, DH may have to support us all for a while. I reminded him of this - important, because what he really wants to do is sit at home and write novels and make a living from that. He says he'll aim for a better position somewhere in a couple of years. I can live with that. At least he's open to the idea.
In the meantime, I need Poppet to be a happy little boy again. His sixth birthday is just around the corner and he deserves to be really, really happy after the tough year he's had.
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