A few days ago I called and made an appointment for our cat to get her annual shots.

30 minutes before our appointment I went to the kitchen to get the kids a snack to eat in the car.  After all, hungry kids are no fun when running errands.

As I was packing yogurt-covered raisins into baggies, the kids grabbed hands and started playing a super-fast version of Ring-Around-the-Rosie.

Bam!

The next thing I knew the 3 year-old was crying, blood pouring from his mouth.  He had slipped on a cardboard sign they had made earlier and had left on the floor.

I scooped him up, tried to look in his mouth, and realized it was impossible to really see the issue.  To calm him down, and make it easier to assess the damage, I got a popsicle out of the freezer.  After a moment I took the popsicle and looked in his mouth:  the blood was coming from around his top front tooth.

Oh, no!  I thought…  Please, please don’t let his tooth be loose!  I started second-guessing my choice of pediatric dentists since ours is over an hour away…

I tried to wiggle it, and it seemed okay.  His tears were already drying as he asked for his popsicle back.

Figuring things were okay, I went to put a bag of old towels in the car that I planned to donate to the vet’s office.  I slammed the door to the car and, “Meooooowwwwwww!”

Remember how our cat loves cars, even after her near-death experience this summer?

You guessed it, I looked down and there was the cat, tip of her tail stuck in the door.

Quickly I opened the door and she ran across the garage.

I hesitantly walked over where she was, and she appeared no worse for wear.   At least we’re heading to the vet, I thought.

I went back inside, got the kids into their coats and loaded them into the car.  Now all I had to do was get the cat and we were good to go.

“Here, Kitty-Kitty….”  She came right to me, and I preceded to try to put her in the brand-new cat carrier.

To say she didn’t want in the carrier would be an understatement.  I swear her 4 legs went 8 different directions.  After a minute or so of wrestling, she twisted herself out of my grasp.

No problem, we’d just try again.

She came right back when I called, and again those legs were flailing, this time she hooked her claws into me, getting my hand pretty good.  Blood dripping, I called to the kids, “Mommy just has to put a band-aid on and then I’ll get the cat!”

Heck with the darn cat carrier!    When I was younger my mom and I always took my cat to the vet in a pillow case, twisted around at the top and held closed.  I’d do that!  I grabbed a pillowcase from the linen closet and returned to the scene.

This time she was wise to me.  I had to coax her from hiding with the laser pointer that she loves to chase.  Once I got her, I tried sitting her on the open pillowcase, her body twisting and turning like her life depended on it.  (I’m thinking this was easier when I was younger because one of us held the cat and one of us pulled the pillowcase up….)  Despite my grip on her, she was gone in seconds.

At this point I was thinking we needed to cancel the appointment.  After all, if you’ve been counting, 3 of us had injuries now, and we only had 5 minutes until our appointment time.

I had one more idea.  A box.  Before I got the cat carrier, the cat had gone in an old diaper box.  (I only got the carrier because the vet had suggested it.)

I raced inside and down the steps and grabbed on of the boxes.  Hmm…  It looked kind of small now that she was no longer a kitten.  Then a light bulb moment happened:  a storage tub!

You know what’s great about storage tubs?  They have a nice big opening at the top, and the lids snap on fast.

Once again the cat came out for that red dot she loves to chase.

Before she knew it, she was in that tub, and we were on the way to the vet.

The cat’s tail?  So far, it’s still okay, although the vet told me to watch it for the next 2 weeks.  If it start to get hard at the tip, we’ll have to go back and get it amputated.

I’ve already told the husband he gets to take the cat to the vet next time.  (Allergies or not, he’s got to have an easier time of it!)

What wild experiences have you had with taking pets to the vet?

The post Adventures of Taking the Cat to the Vet first appeared on There's Just One Mommy.

It started simply enough – a call to the doctor’s office to get an appointment for my 3 year-old.  He has an itchy rash under his arms and down his sides, which started when we were on our recent mini-vacation.  Our usual doctor is out of town this week, so I prepped little guy ahead of time that he’d be seeing a different doctor.

I never thought to prep him for a different nurse.

His name was called and we stepped through the door.  He took one look at her and freaked.  Refused to step on the scale.  Went running for the exit.

Yep, things were going well.

So, finally, after I successfully held his arms down long enough for the nurse to run the thermometer across his forehead, promising him a lollipop if he’d just let her take his temperature, she left and he calmed down.  A little.

Then the doctor came in, and trying to get out of there as fast as he could, little guy pulled his sleeve down a bit and said, “Here’s my rash.”  The doctor wasn’t even in the door all the way yet.  Then Monkey did a wild swing of his body and smacked his forehead on the corner of the doctor’s desk.

Hard.

Hey, if you’re going to have a new injury, what better place than at the doctor’s office?

He screamed (and honestly, it was a hard hit, so I understand that).  Once he calmed down from that incident, it was all, “I want to go.  I want to leave…”  There was no way this new guy was getting a good look at his rash at this point.

I did wind up prying his shirt up far enough that the doctor was able to get a look, and that, with the knowledge that we’d been away a few days and had gone swimming in the hotel pool, made the doctor think it was a form of eczema caused by an allergic reaction to something he’d come in contact with.  (Later I realized he’d worn a new shirt that I hadn’t washed yet that day, so maybe from that??)

You’d think that was enough for the morning.

But no.

I go to strap him in the car seat and a cat jumps in when I open the door.

Not just any cat.  Our cat.  If she hadn’t had her pink collar I’d never believe it.  She was panting like I’ve never seen a cat pant in my life, and she looked terrified.

How she got there is a total mystery.  Did she ride in the car and then jump out without either of the kids or me seeing her?  (I really don’t think she could hide for that long and jump out without us seeing her….) Did she ride on top of the car all the way?  (It IS her favorite perch in the garage…)  Or was she somehow underneath?

There’s no way to know.

One thing’s for certain, she used 1 of her 9 lives up today.

The post Good Thing Cat’s Have 9 Lives… first appeared on There's Just One Mommy.

I haven’t written a Manic Monday post in a long time.  Not because my kids became perfect angels one day, just because I was focussing on other things.

But I am one for irony… You see, I just shared this past Manic Monday post with some bloggy friends.  I smiled as I remembered that day and the things that would sometimes happen when I was in the shower, until I discovered my magic shower combination, that is.

And then this weekend happened.

Being a little older now, there are times I leave the kids playing in the living room while I take my quick shower.  I usually leave them with, “No hitting, biting, screaming, or fighting…”  And usually things go fine.  Yes, sometimes I step out and they can’t wait to tell me what the other one did.  And once my daughter greeted me with a comb she had twirled and gotten stuck in her hair.  But these past few months I haven’t stepped out of the shower to face a mess.  So I wasn’t expecting what happened when I jumped in the shower while my husband was picking up a few things outside…

I was just stepping out of the shower when my husband poked his head in the bathroom and said, “Oh, you’re done?  I was hoping we could stick this one in there with you.”

I grabbed my glasses (because I can’t see two inches from my face without them) to see what he was talking about.  There was my son, covered with powdered chocolatey goodness.  “Chocolate!” he said, grinning at me.

That’s when his big sister ran in to show me that the bottoms of her feet were covered in chocolate.  (Yes, she had just ran through the carpeted living room and hallway, leaving little footprints in her wake.)

Evidently they had found the Ovaltine in the cabinet.  And evidently, now that they are older (and bigger and stronger), they can now open the Ovaltine container.  (This is why as a parent, child-proofing is NEVER finished.  They just keep getting stronger and smarter!)

Of course, I had to have my husband grab the camera and snap a picture of my little guy before I tossed him and his big sister in the tub.  (After all, have to have some proof of his mischievousness when he’s older.)  Then I set about wiping chocolate finger prints from the walls and little footprints from the floors.

And the Ovaltine?

Sounded good, so I made myself a glass of chocolate milk and put the Ovaltine container in a higher cabinet.  Pretty soon my bottom cabinet will be empty.What funny things have happened when you’ve tried to get a shower with little ones running about?

The post More Ovaltine, Please! first appeared on There's Just One Mommy.

Ever have a day where you just feel like a bad parent?  Worry about what your kids are/are not learning from you words and actions?

We all do.  (It’s not just me, right?)

Those are the days I sit back and take a closer look at my kids to see how I’m really doing. 

Here’s how I know I’m doing okay:

1.  Every time my preschooler gets her milk from the fridge she also gets her little brother’s.  Every time.

2.  I often hear our preschooler trying to calm her brother down when he gets upset.  “It’s okay.  Calm down, Honey…”  (Very grown up sounding when she does it, mind you.)

3.  When McDonald’s had Smurfs in the Happy Meals my daughter saw how much her brother liked his Smurf and decided he could have hers too.  No prompting.  No whining about it later.  All on her own.  (Pretty good for a 3 1/2 year old, I think.)

4.  Our daughter likes to ask her daddy if he needs a back rub after work.  She then proceeds to give him one.

5.  When our toddler finds one of his sister’s stuffed animals in the living room, he tells me it is hers and then he runs to find her to give it to her.

6.  When he saw his big sister crying the other day, my toddler went and got her “snuggie” for her.  (That’s what they call their security objects.)

7.  When my toddler was scared to go in his room because the light was off, his big sister said, “I’ll go with you.”  Then she took his hand and helped him turn on his light.

8.  Last week they were fighting over a new riding toy I had bought our son.  His sister was on it and he kept crying, “Mine!”  Even though I had told him she was just taking a turn, he was still super upset, and she wound up getting off the toy.  He jumped on it and walked it around the kitchen for a long time, and then he said, “Pea’ut’s turn!”  and got off and brought it to her.  I didn’t even have to ask him to let her have another turn… (No, Peanut isn’t her real name, just what I use on here…)  (Mind you, we still have plenty of squabbles, but at least this let me know they DO LISTEN and understand taking turns…)

Your turn.  Take a minute today and remind yourself what GOOD things you’ve taught your kids.

How have they shown you what a good job you’re doing?

Oh!  And last chance to enter the SafetyTats giveaway!

The post I’m Doing Okay first appeared on There's Just One Mommy.

I’m sure each of you have your own moments where you’ve wondered if you’d keep your sanity, or felt like the day would never end.  Want to share?

I’m looking for a couple guest posters to do a Manic Monday post.  I’m looking for original content, please.  You may link back to your site in the post, and if you want to include pics – great!

If you are up for the challenge please email me at:

phaetalle(at)theresjustonemommy(dot)com

The post Looking for a Few Guest Posters… first appeared on There's Just One Mommy.

Today’s Manic Monday is getting up a little late because we went to the museum… It’s the one I promised last week about our preschooler’s tantrum.

Sure, my little preschooler has had her share of tantrums.  I remember my birthday 2 years ago – I tried desperately to enjoy the Chinese food my husband had brought home while she lay on the kitchen floor and wailed.  But nothing, NOTHING was like what happened last week.  In the midst of it I could not even recognize her.  It was scary.

Both of my kids have been really tired this summer, whether it’s the heat, or something in the air, or what, I don’t know.   And it’s been affecting them with big time crankiness.

We had a play date that day, and Peanut didn’t get her usual quiet time; I’ve learned she really does need that down time (actually she probably needs a nap most days, but she won’t take one).  She and her play mate had a few squabbles early on, the usual stuff when 2 preschool girls both want to call the shots.

It wasn’t until after play date (thank God) that Peanut completely unhinged.  I don’t even know what started it.

No, wait, I remember… She had taken her top off to put on some dress up clothes during play date and she was complaining that she was now cold.  She wouldn’t go to her room to get her shirt because her bedroom light was off.  If I really thought she was scared of going I might have gone with her, but she goes down the hall and turns on her own light ALL the time.  I was pretty sure it was a “I wonder if I can make Mommy do what I want” moment, and so I continued to put away the dishes from the dishwasher.

Then came the whining, followed by her hanging on my leg.  They always say to ignore a child having a tantrum and it will end faster.  And usually it does for my daughter, but how do you ignore someone hanging on your leg???

I asked her to let go.  I eventually pried her off and tried to get her to go get her shirt on her own while I watched her go down the hallway.  She made it 2 feet from where her shirt was before she came running back.  Again there was hanging on my leg, then my arm.

Both kids had eaten dinner, but I hadn’t eaten dinner yet, having spent most of the dinner time putting a sweater on my topless daughter since she was cold, only to have her take it back off.  The rest of the dinner I spent trying to get her picky brother to eat.

I was trying to eat some of the zucchini I had cooked for them; that’s when she really went off the handle.  She kept trying to knock the plate out of my hand.  I had never seen her like that before.  I put the plate down, let her know that was NOT acceptable and she started hitting me, still yelling something about wanting her clothes.  I knew she was tired, but I had no idea just how tired until as she was screaming the yawns just kept coming.

I tried putting her in time out after the hitting, but she kept leaving the corner.  I really didn’t want her little brother to keep seeing her that way, so I tried putting her in her room.  But she would run out screaming and throwing herself at me before I even made it down the hallway.  Her brother thought this was hilarious.

I hate to even say it, but at one point I locked her door, certain if she just was alone a few minutes she’d calm down, maybe even fall asleep from exhaustion.  Evidently she has learned how to unlock the door because she came out pretty much right away after that, too.

I gave up at that point.  I grabbed her and just hugged her, maybe a little too tightly at first, and when she finally stopped fighting as hard, I, again, told her that she was tired and needed to go to sleep.  “But Mommy,” she said, “I’ll be uncomfortable in my clothes.”  (She had at some point gotten her shirt back on while in her room.)

So after an hour with a little girl I didn’t realize, we went down the hallway, this time with a little girl I did recognize,  to get her nightgown on and go potty.  I promised I’d rock her a bit, and she was asleep in less than 5 minutes, even with her little brother asking me to draw pirates and cars the entire time on his Magna Doodle.  She was asleep by 6:30 and didn’t wake until her usual time in the morning.

The post When You Don’t Recognize Your Own Child… first appeared on There's Just One Mommy.