There was a link to an excellent explanation concerning why we are having a credit crisis posted by Erin from Tales of A Baby Human (password protected). Here is the link. It's written in such a way that even I can understand it (smile).
We've started going to yet another place for DD's swimming lessons. For the first set of lessons, we were at an athletic club (not as members), but they decided to drop group lessons. In the process of doing that, they fired the swimming teacher and her assistant. It was extremely callous, since they'd just hired them a few months earlier. They fired them after they'd developed a whole program. Needless to say, even though it's nice, we will not be going back there. I don't think much of a place that treats its employees so badly. And, even though the teachers were absolutely wonderful (two teachers to a six-child class), DD didn't pass the first level.
So, we tried the local Y. Even though the pool was wonderful, with a capital "W," they had a ratio of six kids to one teacher. DD didn't pass the first level again.
Undaunted, we decided to go to another another athletic club that we'd heard good things about. We did join this time, because they reduced the enrollment fee. We were happy with the ratios in the introductory swimming class, which were 4 to 1. And, I've had the chance to work with DD in our own pool, which I think has helped. This class is actually 3 to 1 because they didn't get full enrollment. There is a little girl, 2-1/2 years old, named G; she comes with her daddy only. There is a little boy who appears to be over 4, and his name slips my mind at the moment; he comes with both parents. And there is DD, who is going to be 4 in August, and DH and I come to her lessons.
Her teacher seems kind of spacey, though things were OK after the first lesson. We are not allowed to sit near the children. Instead, we have to go into an observation room. We can see the kids, and they can see us, but the concern is that, at least with the smaller kids, a parent close by is too distracting. There is some merit to that.
This Saturday, the teacher was five minutes late (lessons are only a half an hour). All of the parents were by the kids in the pool, waiting for class to start. She didn't apologize. Instead, she got into the water, and started having a conversation with some other woman who was in the pool with a very small child (not in our class). Another several minutes gone. We were all pretty p*ssed off. But, we trotted off to the observation room and didn't say anything.
Shortly before the lesson was scheduled to end (there was no makeup for the lost time), we all came back out. DH and the other three parents were standing at the narrow end of the rectangular pool, waiting for the kids to come back, since that's where the steps are. The children are supposed to move along the side of the pool, hand over hand (there's a wide rail that you can stand on). Or, mom and dad can come over to the side of the pool and help the kids out. I chose to sit on the long side of the pool on a bench not five feet away from the kids as they were finishing up the lesson.
The teacher dismissed the class. The little boy started walking through the water over to his parents (he's tall enough to manage the three foot water level at the deepest part of this section). G was standing right next to the teacher, not a foot away, on her right hand side. DD had gotten out of the pool, and I was fumbling for the towel. The teacher started telling me how good DD had done that day. This exchange took only about a minute. And, the next thing I knew, I heard G's father yell, "G!" as loudly as he could. But the time I turned to see where the yelling had come from, he was right there (he was actually only about 20 feet away, and I don't know if he knew that the class had been dismissed).
To my horror, G was under the water. And I never f*cking saw it happen. Nor did her teacher. G's father pulled her out, she started crying, and everything was OK. I don't think she was under more than a couple of seconds. But I was only five feet away, and the teacher was standing right next to her. And we never saw a thing. Neither did the two life guards who were directly across from where this happened, on the other side of the pool. DH also didn't see it from where he was standing, because he also had his eyes on DD. But he did ask me why I didn't do anything, not realizing that I just didn't see it happen.
In my heart, which was now in my stomach, I knew that G would not have drowned. I would have seen her in a few seconds when I looked away from the teacher (we weren't having that deep of a discussion). And the teacher certainly would have seen her when she turned to toward the steps to get out. But how scary that was.
It's true what they say you know. They slip under, quietly, and sink like a stone. There wasn't a struggle. There wasn't a splash. And now I know I understand why so many kids drown while an adult is right there watching.
Later, in the family locker room, I apologized to the father for not seeing what was right in front of me. He was angry at the teacher, and I don't blame him. She should have noticed.
But, I will always hate myself a little bit for not noticing too.
When we were trying to figure out what the heck to buy for our new baby, DH and I relied a lot on the book, Baby Bargains. It provided us with a lot of information about safety, utility, etc.
DH asked to be put on the mailing list, and he recently received a disturbing e-mail from them. The link to the article is here. Now, I've heard a lot about BPA, but I kind of dismissed what I was hearing, thinking that the results were inconclusive.
But, at least according to the authors of "Baby Bargains," it's something that should be taken seriously. They even go so far as to tell people that they should throw out their Avent’s Natural Feeding Bottle and Dr. Brown’s Natural Flow (or any bottle made of polycarbonate plastic), bottles that they had previously recommended. We used the Avent when DD received bottled breast milk, sometimes at home, but usually at daycare (she started at daycare when she was six months old).
Fortunately, there other options for our next baby, should we be blessed enough to have one. Bottles made of glass or opaque plastic are OK, as are bottle liners. There are also BPA-free bottles, though they cost twice as much as the Avent.
As with everything else, it's a personal decision. But I think that we are probably going to play it safe and ditch the old bottles. All the while, though, I'm praying that they are wrong about this.
I like to look at my stats and referrers. I always find it interesting to see who is reading this blog, and how they got here. At least one person a day comes here as a result of typing in "germophobic." Sometimes, the searches are funny, like my all-time frequent favorite -- "mommy got boobs."
Today, I was completely disgusted by a Google search. The search itself was quite long, and told an awful story. Apparently, a woman was nursing her baby on the bed, her husband found this to be erotic, and as a consequence, he digitally penetrated the little girl. And her response was to type this search into Google.
I wonder what she hoped to find. And I really wonder why such a search turned up my site, which at most, matched her terms for breast feeding in bed. For G-d's sake, woman, why don't you at a minimum think about counseling for this man you are married to? What he did was a crime! Google is not going to help you with that. And I fear that this is only the beginning.
Every day, I remember the children who are physically, sexually, or emotionally abused in my prayers, and I ask that G-d find a way to help them out of that circumstance. What I cannot fathom is why so many people like me are unable to have children, while other people easily become parents, only to subject these kids to a miserable existence. After I die, G-d and I are going to have a heart to heart about that one.
I don't really know what else to say about this, except that I will be making room in my prayers for one more precious little soul.
DD had a fever this weekend, but it only lasted for a day, and then she went back to normal. A little lower than normal, actually. She threw up on Monday morning, so we kept her home. But she seemed fine after that, and DH was a little peeved with me that I'd asked him to keep her home. She went to school on Tuesday, but they said that she had a little diarrhea. And she threw up last night. But still, no fever. To be cautious, we kept her home today, and it was my turn to take the day off.
Today, everything was fine until around 2:30. And then, I changed seven -- yes, seven -- diapers in about 35 minutes. And they were mostly full. And I had to change her onesie a couple of times as well because she had some small blowouts.
It was one of the few times that I've been really scared about what to do. How was I going to get her to a doctor if I needed to? Finally, it did stop. And she didn't go again until about an hour and a half later. What a relief. It honestly seemed like it would never end. Of course, I was afraid of dehydration. And I wondered if she picked up some exotic fatal disease somewhere. That's just how my mind works sometimes. I always have to think the worst.
So, DH is going to stay home with her tomorrow, and we have our fingers crossed that everything will be OK. She perked up later in the day, though I can't say that I was disappointed that she wanted to cuddle a lot today. She really isn't much of a cuddler; I don't think that she likes having that much downtime. Instead, she's a mile-a-minute kid who always wants to be doing something.
So, here's hoping that everything will be OK now. And that it's not contagious!
Well, today my little daughter took about ten years off my life. Twice. So I guess I'll be checking into the nursing home any minute now.
It started around noon, just before I went out to do all my errands. Usually, DH and DD will watch me leave, waving goodbye before they go off to the park, color, or whatever it is they do in the the short while before DD goes down for her nap.
Today, DD took my keys from me, because she loves to push the lock key and make the horn beep. I don't mind that at all. It's not a really loud horn, and she gets a kick out of it.
But -- when it was time for me to go, I asked for the keys back. DD started laughing and ran away. Toward the street. And she wouldn't stop despite my yelling and DH's yelling. Fortunately, she made a 90-degree turn at the last minute and went along the sidewalk in her effort to run away. But still -- DH ran after her, and he wouldn't have caught her in time had she decided to continue on, straight into the street.
Later on in the day, she ran away from us again. Right into the middle of the street. Fortunately, it was the side street, but how would she know the difference? And it is still possible to get hit by a car, even though it is not particularly busy. And again, she wouldn't stop. We had to run after her. But she was in the middle of the street before DH caught up with her.
Now, we have gone over and over what to do to cross the street. DD goes through the steps herself now. "Stop. Look. One way. The other way. Are there cars? No. OK. Time to cross. Hold mommy or daddy's hand, and hurry, hurry, hurry across the street." She really does know the drill.
Scary, scary stuff. I think that we are going to have to play red light/green light, or Simon Says stop/go, to try to bring the lesson home that when we say "stop," she has to stop. I can't remember where I learned that these were good games to try, but I think that it was on Mary's site. She always has good advice. And we need some. This is just not acceptable behavior, and I don't have that many years left that DD can scare off of me, you know?
Someone hits on this site from time to time with the search "rectal thermometers as childhood punishment" or some variation on that theme (though I still haven't quite figured out how this search brings up my site). I get a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever I see this search, thinking that there is someone out there who is trying to figure out if this is the right or wrong thing to do and wondering if he or she is trying to gather information about it. DH said it won't make a difference if I say anything, but on the off chance that it might --
Whoever you are -- if you know someone who is using a rectal thermometer to punish a child, please know that it is not a punishment, it is child abuse. Please get help!