Save the First-time Mommies Campaign

Website under Construction – please excuse the messiness of the site; and while we’re on it excuse the mess which used to be known as my living room!!

First-time “mommy anxiety”, or what I like to call the Chicken Little complex, can be overwhelming; especially when you constantly feel the sky could drop on your head at any given second.  Women who have never been anxious in their lives, will develop fears and panic they never thought they could have; and mommies who are prone to over-react to what life brings them (I’ll call these women the severely empathetic), can be absolutely mortified throughout every moment of the day!

I ran into a first-time mother at the pediatrician’s office yesterday.  When she first entered the waiting room, you could see the excitement on her face, proudly showing off her 6 week-old pride and joy.  Remember that feeling when you got to leave the house with your perfect infant for the first time, after being cooped up for six weeks?  You’re craving all the praise for your efforts of making it thus far, and in a sleep-deprived stupor, wish for the pediatrician to grant you the Mother of the Year award.  You are just sure no other mother could possibly understand what you have just been through in the last month and a half.  Sleep really does prevent insanity and delusions…

This new mommy left hubby and baby in the waiting room for a few minutes, and then returned from the bathroom in a panic.  I recognized the anxiety, so I consoled her, had her sit down and call her OB/GYN immediately.  Now one of the pediatric Nurse Practitioners in the office brought her back to a room to be observed, and then I don’t know what happened after that, for our name was called and we were moved to a room to share our stories of mucus…AGAIN.  But I said a little prayer that this new mom was okay – and she probably was, but it was so apparent the anxiety was at an all-time high for this mother –her fears were palpable.

It’s situations like this that seem to arise just when you least expect it.  A clarity, which hits you in the brain-house so hard you have to share it with others.  Here is my idea:  If you see a new mother who looks scared, confused or panic-stricken, stop and talk to her.  Ask her if she is okay.  Listen to her complaints.  Feel free to give her positive advice and encouragement.  This is my new pledge for 2010.  It’s the “Save a First-Time Mommy” campaign.  Look for them in waiting rooms, the grocery store, or in the baby aisle at Wal-Mart or Target.  Help them so when they get their life under control, they can pass it forward and help the next Chicken Little.

©2010, Hatton. All rights reserved.

More mucus? You’ve Got to Be Kidding me!!

“KNOCK, KNOCK”
“Who’s there?

Why is it whenever my children get sick, I always catch it and my husband doesn’t?  Is it since I carried the mucus mongers in my womb at one time, I have a stronger attachment to them and am therefore more prone to contract every sniffle, cough and ache?  Is it because I married a super hero who has an invisible virus shield as a pocket protector? Perhaps.

A doctor I visited recently (not my regular doc), asked me point blank, “Why are you getting sick so often this year?”  Now if I really knew that answer, don’t you think I would be working on the prevention and not be sitting in her drab office in search of the miracle cure? Next question please, Doc…

Now I am not criticizing all doctors.  I love doctors – that’s why I need to have a personal one on pager at all times during the cold and flu season.  Argh!!!

Parents out there – do you seem to be catching everything your kids are getting this year?  I don’t remember my mother catching every bug I got.  Of course that was only a few decades ago, and my memory is like a steel trap.  Isn’t yours?

©2010, Hatton. All rights reserved.

Prayers for Local Pediatrician

As a humorist, I can usually find the “funny” in about anything.  However, this is a difficult time to find material when all everyone wants and needs to do is to aid the people of Haiti.  The earthquake last week deeply saddened my heart and photos in the media have made it impossible to ignore.  Which is finally a good thing!

However, as I sit down to write this posting, my heart is pained on a personal note.   This morning the Kansas City Star ran a front page article on the disappearance of  Dr. Frank Vaughters, a beloved Kansas City pediatrician who was doing mission work in Haiti at the time of the earthquake.  No one has heard from him since.  Even though I only worked with him briefly as a home health nurse, his compassion and love of his job shined through the phone when I would call with worries about his patients.  Obviously, with his dedication to the people and children of Haiti, his passion for healing was greater than most and his disappearance is devastating.

If you are a prayerful person, please take a moment and send a prayer to Dr. Vaughters, his family, his fellow co-workers, his patients and their families.  And please pray for a miracle for this doctor (who so selflessly creates miracles for children and families every day) so that he will call home once again…  God bless you, Dr. Vaughters.

Here is the link to the KC Star article from this morning:  http://www.kansascity.com/842/story/1699780.html

Chinese Method of Potty Training

I thought today would be a good day to make some headway on potty training.  Still cold outside, no school, and needed a project for the day.  I had recently read a story about how the Chinese potty-trained their kids in the old days (maybe some are still doing it this way, but  I don’t have any hard or soft facts).  The Chines strip their children of all clothing and let them out and about the house and yard.  I thought this sounded interesting, especially since my child doesn’t prefer clothing in the first place.

I don’t have any answers yet on how this method will work out for us, but here is a photo of our success this morning.

For those of you who know a  nurse, you realize we tend to be a bit germ phobic, so yes that photo is a re-inactment of the true event.  After she showed me her prize, I whipped it up and removed all traces of her deposit.  This instant replay is indeed a rock, but is a close version of the real deal!  Staged poo for you…  ENJOY.

©2010, Hatton. All rights reserved.

Slow it Down, Girl!

Here is today’s article from the KC Star.  My next blog will continue on Wednesday!

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THE KANSAS CITY STAR (January 20, 2010)

STACEY HATTON COMMENTARY

Slow down and take a deep breath

While leaving my children’s preschool one morning, I fortunately was reminded what every parent needs to hear at the beginning of the day: slow down!

Who would say that to your face? No one with any sense of decorum — maybe with the exception of hall monitors or lifeguards. I was indirectly asked to slow down by a woman walking behind me who let out an audible exhalation. Actually, she could have blown me out the door with it!

Now, she didn’t realize she had done this, because when I turned around and mentioned it, she was embarrassed, so sorry. But I think she did me a favor. I am here to pass on her exhalation to you parents of young children out there. (Please, insert yours here. Don’t worry, I’ll wait.)

As the caregivers of our offspring, today’s society has programmed us to be in high gear all day long. How many times have you gotten through the kids’ nightly bath and thought, “Where did the day go? Didn’t I just have my first cup of coffee a minute ago?”

We are creatures of habit and nurturers, so we run through the day repeating: feed, clean, feed, clean, feed, clean, clean, read aloud, fall into a pile of mush and pass out. Doesn’t this sound familiar?

I think breath-holding has become an epidemic problem. We need to start a movement to change this behavior. No more walking through life with our shoulders up to our ears, wracked with stress! No more headaches brought on by forgetting to eat or drink water for half the day! No more absentmindedness from multi-tasking to the extreme when you really aren’t doing anything well because you can’t focus on one thing at a time! No more weekly appointments to the massage therapist or chiropractor! OK, I take that back. I didn’t mean to say that.

Let me break down this problem medically. Our body needs oxygen (and food and water) to survive. When we are stressed, humans have a tendency to take shorter inhalations and not exhale completely. Breathe in oxygen; breathe out same amount of carbon dioxide. That’s what we should do.

Many of us stressed individuals walk around holding our breath the majority of the day. This is not good for us or the plants, which need our carbon dioxide to survive. It really isn’t just something made up by yoga instructors or granola crunchers of the 70s. You need to get rid of extra carbon dioxide in your body. And if Whitney Houston can do it, so can you! No waiting to exhale.

So when you feel your stress creeping up on you, stop and exhale. Exhale daily and deeply. Think about it. You might even save a plant.

Stacey Hatton is an Overland Park pediatric nurse and freelance writer. Her blog is at http://nursemommylaughs.com.

Posted on Tue, Jan. 19, 2010 10:15 PM

©2010, Hatton. All rights reserved.

How Many Mommies Drove Their Kids to School on MLK Day?

Now, I must preface this by saying, I am blonde and have the luxury of using this status whenever I deem appropriate and neccesary. This is one of those moments. Maybe I can keep a tally on this blog to track my blondeness-ness…ness.

BLONDE STORY #1:

Last week I had a sick child, so I was not able to have my “Mommy day off.” You know the day…the only day sans children (who you love and adore and can’t imagine being apart from) where you can run errands, have lunch dates, go to the grocery store ALONE, etc… So after a busy weekend, I was cherishing the quiet moments alone on my Monday. My day. My day of peacefulness, Diet Coke and blogging. Near perfection!

So after rushing my children around this Monday morning, tearing through folded laundry baskets for matching socks and the “right” pink dress, screams of no teeth and hair brushing, tears of frustration and ear-piercing screams of clothing refusal, I kept it cool with one beautiful thought… I will have the day to myself in one hour, 30 minutes, 15 minutes…

So after putting one child in the car with the bare minimum: no coat, no socks, no shoes (these can always be done in the school parking lot), I drove through the morning fog to the girls’ preschool. It did not occur to me when the usually busy streets were completely empty that something was different. It is my day! It didn’t occur to me when I told my husband that the banks were closed today because of MLK Day. Six hours of true concentration. It hit me in the noggin when I pulled into the school’s parking lot and nary a car was there. No sign of life at the always hopping church.

I won’t bore you with the details of the thoughts that were racing through my mind regarding poorly organized calendars (mine, not the schools), cancellations of today’s luncheon with fabulously fun friends, babysitters, and lastly blondeness. But I will share that if it were any other holiday, I might have had more frustration with losing my precious day of solitude.

As I pulled back into my driveway, after sufficient moaning and whining in my head, I thought of Martin Luther King, Jr. and how he would be shaking his head at my behaviour.  At that moment, I was reminded why we have this special day for him and his fight for equality. Such a beautiful person was brutally removed from our earth and I should be spending this day reflecting on his messages, spending  quality time with my fabulous children and yes…I Shall Overcome the loss of my Mommy Day, for another Monday hopefully will be next week!

©2010, Hatton. All rights reserved.

Toddler Temper-Tantrums are F-U-N!!

As many of you know…potty training is such a joy. My husband and I decided it would be far less stress to NOT dictate when our kids were to be potty-trained. Our oldest was trained at 3 years without any battles and without the stress I hear from so many parents. Forcing your child to be potty-trained by a certain time is as “out” as spanking is now a days. And if you have independent children (aka stubborn as all get out!), you know forcing just doesn’t work.

Our youngest (she is three) will “peeps” and “poo” (these are the correct medical terms) in the toilet when placed there and needs to go, but would rather “go” in her pull-ups instead of asking to go to the restroom. In the days of cloth only diapers, kids were floating like a buoy atop their wet diapers, which I’m sure wasn’t pleasant. I can’t remember that feeling personally, but can only imagine the discomfort. But with today’s wonderful wicking of the wetness, my kids don’t care if their diaper weighs as much as a small Yorkie. I would think the competition set by the older child would help us with our young one, but she isn’t into competing or even wanting to attend the game.

So today when we were at the library, formerly a tranquil place – that is until my children discovered it, my youngest decides to urinate in her Pull-up in front of the bathroom. She then announces to the patrons that she just went “pee-pee.” OK…fine. Pretty cute. Nevertheless, there are several problems with this scenario: ONE…she keeps repeating this announcement with the energy of a bullhorn and clarity of an operatic soprano. Minutes can feel like hours when it is your child. TWO…after she quits repeating her bodily functions, she decides the next thing to do is to scream comparable to a tornado siren. If you aren’t from the Midwest, just believe me, it is piercing. THREE…now I am always prepared for bathroom emergencies. This time, however, my supplies were in the car in the parking lot. No problem! I’ll just check out the books and return to the car for a quick change. This plan was not sufficient for my child who before this very moment could remain in a wet diaper all day. She decided that since she went “pee-pee” in the Young Adult book section, she needed to take off her clothing right there and change into a fresh pull-up in that same section. So the screaming started and continued while I tried to locate my library card, and then with the nimbleness that only adrenalin can suck away, tried to scan the truckload of books my children insisted on checking out. Of course the computer locked up and I couldn’t scan the last four books, but my child was a trooper and screamed all the way through the ever-patient librarian trying to assist me in a job that truly any sane person can do.

Just so you don’t think my child is a maniac and any different than any other three year old, she pulled it together when I suggested she could press the handicapped button that automatically opens the doors to the exit. She sucked up the tears, wiped them away with her parka sleeve and said, “Great Mommy! That would be fun!!” Tantrum #1 of the day complete.

©2010, Hatton. All rights reserved.

Elvis Better be at End of Flu Line

What’s worse than a three-hour car ride to Omaha with carsick toddlers, or your legs after running a three-hour marathon? What’s more painful than a three-hour root canal?

If you spent Halloween morning winding down the sidewalks outside the Johnson County Health Department, you know the answer: waiting in line for three hours to get your young children vaccinated for the H1N1.

Now, I am not bad-mouthing the department’s work. I truly believe the health department did a magnificent job. They didn’t have a Black Friday disaster. No one trampled anyone, which is a plus. It was a well executed event for approximately 1,900 of my now closest friends.

My only advice for any future events is maybe put up a movie screen and project Sesame Street episodes back to back. If you really want to win ‘em over, have Mr. Stinky Feet and Funky Mama singing in shifts in the parking lot. (Snacks and diaper stations would be fabulous also, but who would expect children between the ages of 6 months and 5 years would need to “use the facilities” while waiting in 46 degree weather for three hours?)

But really, I’m not complaining.

The morning started off with a bang. First crazy rumors started flying that a handful of perky mommies had started the line before 6 a.m. when doors weren’t to open until 7:45. I have no idea if this was true. I couldn’t even see the beginning of the line from my coveted place. At 6 a.m., I was trying to haul myself out of bed to pack my U-Haul wagon full of activities with the anticipation I would be waiting an hour. Major under estimation!

I did see others faring worse than I was, however. Several parents just pulled their infant up out of the car seat — maybe with a blanket, if they were thinking — with no stroller or diaper bag Can you imagine? Being stuck in line, holding your child in your arms, thinking it was going to be a quick affair and no diapers, snacks, bottles or line stand-ins?

After only a fraction of an hour, officials from a race said we had to clear the sidewalk for the runners to get through. Didn’t they know who we were? I’m pretty sure H1N1 groupies trump runners for sidewalk space. And, Mr. Race Man, have you looked at this line? No one has stood in a line like this since the Great Depression! I hope Elvis is behind those doors!

Then to make things even more interesting, nearby businesses started towing cars off their property. It wasn’t even 8:15 yet. Thankfully, police came around announcing on the bull horn we needed to move cars in various lots. I heard people saying they would rather have their car towed than risk the chance of not getting the H1N1 shot. I could see their point.

This brings me to the overall fear which slowly crept up on all of us. The question was, “What if I get to the front of the line, and the Seinfeld sitcom’s Soup Nazi was there dealing out the shots! “No flu for you!” How disappointing would that be?

Fortunately, we got immunized.

Later that evening when my friend and I were trick-or-treating with our kids, she disclosed to me she took her little one up to the same clinic 15 minutes before it closed that afternoon. She just walked through the doors, and within several minutes her kid was immunized.

“What?!” I nearly pulled a Black Friday on her, but lucky for her, she’s a good friend.

Stacey Hatton is a freelance writer who lives in Overland Park.

©2010, Hatton. All rights reserved.

Look for Some Good in Everyone

A reverend, a rabbi and bestselling author Mitch Albom walked into a Leawood church…and lo, and behold, world peace is obtained. It could happen.

On a recent Tuesday night, (Albom apparently likes Tuesdays) I was mesmerized by a former sports writer turned mega-author who brought hundreds of Kansas Citians of differing beliefs together to discuss faith. I initially thought this was going to be just a little book signing. Oh, so wrong!

When I entered the sanctuary at United Methodist Church of the Resurrection, a petite congregation the size of a small nation or kingdom, I thought, “Wow, this guy is reaching the masses with his message of hope and faith, and he plays in a rock band with Dave Barry and Stephen King!” What a stud!

Albom is best known for his best-selling books, “Tuesdays With Morrie” and “The Five People You Meet in Heaven.” He is now on a national book tour for his newly released non-fiction book, “Have a Little Faith.” It’s an inspirational book about two men who literally changed his life: a rabbi, whom Albom has known since infancy, and a Detroit pastor who aids the homeless after giving up his corrupt life of “breaking all Ten Commandments.”

Now I am not getting paid to plug Albom’s book, and I don’t want to create a book report or just relay the details of the evening, but after driving home with the radio off (a rare Zen moment), I realized I needed to tap into what most moved me about his speech.

Unfortunately, the idea came to me in bed. I hate that! I have discovered it best not to announce to my husband while in bed that I’m thinking of another man, but after Albom’s talk, I could not get his words out of my head. I dutifully got up and headed straight to the computer.

Earlier that evening, Albom dove into some deep topics: why he strayed from his faith and whether we had personally gotten to know our clergy.

Through his poignant story, he invited the audience to reminisce on their past religious experiences. But it was an off-hand remark, not the core of his talk at all, that got me thinking. Mitch Albom looks for greatness in every person he meets. Really? Well, smack me in the head, why don’t cha? How do you find the extra time to write all those novels?

Then it hit me. This could be the key to world peace. What if I can find one great thing about everyone I meet? Life could be all puppies and pigtails, right? Would empathy swell throughout the world? And why didn’t Oprah think of this years ago?

If the political parties could step out of their box and try to find greatness in individual members of the opposing party, could they find common ground and respect? If warring countries could laugh together and share zany family stories over a beer or a juice box, could the fighting cease?

I have a friend who instead of offering loud words or gestures when enraged by a (let’s say a great but distracted) driver, she blows them a kiss. She figures they need some positive reinforcement. I believe this makes her great.

So if someone you meet does something you don’t care for, stop and remember Mitch Albom’s tip and my new mantra: look for the greatness. This incredibly irritating person could end up being your new best friend forever! It could happen.

Stacey Hatton is a freelance writer who lives in Overland Park.

©2010, Hatton. All rights reserved.

Brace Yourself for Perfect Princess Party

With my daughter’s fourth year approaching, all anyone heard from her for two months prior was her upcoming party, the presents she desired and the cake…oh, yes, the pink cake!

As a first time mother, I wasn’t aware how important these three things were, but fortunately, since she reminded me every 13 minutes, I was prepared. A young girl’s fourth birthday, in terms of life importance, is comparable to your first new car, senior prom, your wedding day and the next book in the “Twilight” series all tied into one. It’s that big. Now our daughter’s party request was a surprise to my husband and me, who thought she was enough of a tomboy to barrel through the princess phase unscathed, but boy, were we mistaken.

Tip No. 1: If you have a girl who is 3 years old, start saving up for next year’s party because she will demand:

It must be a princess party — a perfectly precious princess party.

50 balloons, pink and off-pink.

Huge pink cake with pink icing and princesses on it. (Translation: Every Disney princess that has ever been created.)

Every guest must be dressed as a princess, preferably in what? Yes, pink.

A pink princess piñata. I know what you are thinking. Yes, they do make these scary contraptions, but you don’t have to beat a princess over the head with a baseball bat anymore. You can buy a pull-string piñata, but it still felt odd having every child grab a ribbon from the perfectly pink underskirt and seeing copious amounts of candy fall on the floor. We opted for a pink tiara piñata. It’s just as effective for the kids without all the adult jokes.

Tip No. 2: Do not mention this party to your child again until the morning of the big day. If you think it’s a bonding experience to involve your child in the party planning, you are wrong.

So how many girls get invited?

Tip No. 3: Many invitation and party kits come in sets of eight. Whatever you do, don’t invite nine girls. It will rock your planning world.

Tip No. 4: Are there any big sporting events on this day? If you want the men in your family to be present, don’t schedule the big event during a Big 12 or Chief’s football game. They will be irritated and resentment might ensue. This is no way to start off a princess party.

Next, do you have any friends who owe you a big favor? Any friends you can hit up to help on the big day with an “I might need a little help with a teensy, tiny art project for a few girls”?

Promising cake can help if they hesitate, but I told my friend she could keep her tiara and that was enough.

The big day arrives and I was prepared. My friend showed up early, grabbed a tiara and we stood post for the “carriages” to arrive.

Here’s a quick version of the party: introductions and greetings in formal dining room, art project, opening of presents, piñata string spectacular, dance break and a reading of Cinderella.

Things were going great! Then I leaned into my friend and whispered, “We only have cake and ice cream to do, and over an hour and a half left!”

Tip No. 5: Have much more planned than you think you have time for. This can include such improvised games as pin the pink ribbon on the door or pick up the piñata candy with a spoon and put it in your princess purse. Or the best one we came up with: turn up the radio and have a princess dance fest!

The princess party was perfectly precious!

The girls had a great time and after I awoke from my sugar induced coma, I realized all the effort was worth it. My daughter remained in her dress and heels until bedtime, requesting to wear them to sleep (denied). However, she got over it quickly, told me how much she loved her party and was asleep before her head hit her royal pillow.

And I’m pretty sure my big 4-year-old princess dreamt in “pink” that night.

Stacey Hatton is a freelance writer who lives in Overland Park.

©2010, Hatton. All rights reserved.