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Despite my refusal to allow my children to change or grow in any way, shape or form while I’m on holiday, apparently Eva has had the gall to sprout 2 more teeth while I’ve been gone. No big tears, just some teeth. The kid doesn’t really seem to mind “teething” as a rite of passage. Which just reinforces what I’ve been saying for years: Teething causes teeth. Not diarrhea, fevers or wheezing. It’s so easy for parents to blame a runny nose on a possible bony eruption but it’s more likely your kid licked the floor at Baby Gym and has a cold. Plenty of studies back me up on this.
That said, I have no doubt that it is probably a little uncomfortable, having a tooth rip through your gum tissue. So, irritability, chewing on everything (including your sister) and trouble sleeping might be attributed to teething. My mother was concerned, so she’s been giving some ibuprofen in my absence. Today she checked that it was okay (3 days later) and I said it was fine, especially since she’d under-dosed her by 600%. Homeopathic pain medicine can’t hurt. Can’t help. But can’t hurt. ANYWAY.
What this all means in the end is that Zoe remains “at risk.” We’ve already talked about toddlers biting. It’s just a slightly different game when the attacker is 10 months old. She doesn’t really understand, “No!” In the same way that she doesn’t seem to get that Zoe’s belly button is not a Cheerio that she can pick up and eat. (Despite daily, multiple, attempts)
On the other hand, Zoe has reportedly started hair pulling. Makes sense since she’s both bald and edentulous. If I understand correctly, Eva is not pleased. But that’s what happens when you have thick, luscious hair and you try to eat someone’s belly button. In other words, kids have a way of working these things out. It’s just up to us to let them figure it out while we make sure they don’t cause any permanent damage to anyone. Diplomatic Advisor. One of the many jobs that compromises the title, “Parent.”
Dr. Lara Zibners, Aug 31, 2010
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Greetings from Buenos Aires. It’s hard to believe that we’ve already been gone 5 nights. The good news is, we’re all surviving. The girls are thriving. And I’m doing okay too, stimulating the South American economy in an attempt to distract myself. But there’s still this nagging suspicion that I’m missing some terribly important stuff up north. Like teeth and new tricks. Before I left, I told the girls and their grandparents that they were welcome to have a good time but there were to be no developmental milestones reached while I was gone. None.
My mother said, “What do I do? Tie them to a chair?” I said, “Yep. A chair sounds good.” My general rule is: If Mommy didn’t see it, it didn’t happen.” I can’t tell you exactly what day the girls each sat up or held their own cookie, because it didn’t count unless I was there. Seems fair to me. There is a wickedly wide window for every developmental step and no one will be the wiser if I fudge it a few days. Like when we were at Gymboree and a very tall infant with a full set of teeth walked (walked!) over and I asked how old she was. “10 Months!” said her Mom and I thought, as I looked at my very short, enamel-challenged, barely crawling 10 month-old, “Yeah, right. Or so you told your husband. ” Normal is probably normal for your kid, nothing doing what the neighbor’s tot is doing. It is a well-known fact that a formal developmental assessment in the pediatrician’s office can’t hold a candle to the simple question: Does your kid seem to be keeping up with her peers? As long as her peers aren’t just a big troupe of freakish giants with huge teeth, it’s a good way to judge.
So that said, I’m still not too keen on my little girls growing up unless I’m there to see it. If my parents were paying attention, my kids are probably having their new teeth filed down the gum line as I write this. With any luck, my father has strapped newspapers to their legs to prevent new methods of mobility. Mommy’s babies will be just as she left them.
Dr. Lara Zibners, Aug 30, 2010
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Well, I did it. Got on that plane. Yesterday was spent packing hurriedly since up until the night before I honestly didn’t believe we’d be going. I felt so sick to my stomach that I couldn’t eat the entire day. Finally, preparing to say our final “Later Gators,” I made a piece of toast with cheese, put Eva on my lap and started to weep. She looked up at me, not with concern or sadness, but with hunger. A few grunts and my lunch was in her mouth, Eva happily grinning from behind a massive piece of crust. And that sums it up, doesn’t it?
I know that going away is good for all of us but it didn’t make it any easier on me. The kids clearly weren’t bothered. Part of what got me out the door was knowing how valuable this time was for the grandparents. The chance to enjoy these gorgeous girls without their Sleep Freak, Baby-Handbook Authoring, Routine-Addicted (but only because there is 2 of them. One baby could probably do as she likes. Two require direction) Mommy telling them what to do. Even though I know it won’t be exactly like when Mommy is there, I’m quite confident that they will all survive.
So, sitting here in Ipanema, sipping a caipirhina, I’m trying to forget that I just called home, where it’s 5pm, to hear that both babies “are asleep.” Really?! That’s fabulous. I’m sure bedtime is going to go really well. Sigh. And in the same theme, may I direct you to a wonderful, and timely, article by Melanie Rosen that appeared on Parenting Magazine’s website this week, featuring 23 pages of my wisdom? Grandma’s Way v. Your Way.
http://www.parenting.com/gallery/Mom/grandmas-way-vs-your-way/1/
Dr. Lara Zibners, Aug 26, 2010
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So as you may recall, I am supposed to go to South America today. The Flight of the Grandparents began Sunday and will conclude this afternoon, resulting in 4 very eager people anxious to spoil my children. I say, “supposed to go” because we’re not actually sure we’re getting on that plane. It’s a combination of Mommy feeling sick about leaving those babies for so long and Papa having a ridiculous job that could prevent his departure. Regardless, I’ve been preparing myself, the house and the kids just in case I actually have to pack that new swimsuit and pile of trashy books and fly away. So what does a super OCD Mommy/pediatrician do to prepare to leave her children behind?
First is the stuff I don’t want to think about. In the US, doctors aren’t legally allowed to treat a child without its parent’s consent, except in the case of a true emergency. Technically, I’m not supposed to even tell Grandma what kind of antibiotic he had last month without Mom’s express permission. Therefore, if you are leaving your little ones behind, it’s prudent to have some kind of legal documentation drawn up. A notarized letter giving permission for Aunt Jane to seek medical care for the child is probably okay. It’s also a good idea to let your pediatrician know that you are out of town and it’s okay to talk to Cousin Sally about little Johnnie. Of course, we live in England where they don’t have such rules. Here they assume that if I trust my mother to care for the kid, I trust her to deal with an ear infection. It’s called “implied consent” and it saved me one little step. But you Yanks should be aware.
Secondly, OCD Mommy wrote out a Handbook. Typed. 6 pages. Seriously. But at the very least, what is important could probably be put into 1 page. Our pediatrician’s number, after-hours number and address went at the top. Right under that I listed phone numbers for everyone who might be of help while I’m gone, like my sitter, my neighbor and our plumber (I’m very practical). Then I listed our home address and phone number, because in an emergency will they remember where they are? Finally I left instructions on how to call emergency services because it’s different in different places. At my house you have to dial “9” to get an outside line, then “999” for the British “911.” Don’t get worried. I inked it for them. I’m not even mentioning medications and allergies because I’m sure you already thought of that.
And then of course, I wrote down all the stuff that made my father declare me, “completely neurotic,” like the exact recipe for cinnamon apples that Eva likes. And how often to feed my plants. So now I suppose all that is left is to actually pack my bags and kiss my babies. It’s making me sick inside. I’ll let you know how it goes.
By the way, I’ll do my best to keep up with you the next week and a half but of course everything will depend on internet access, time and hemisphere. Either way, I’ll be thinking of you!
Dr. Lara Zibners, Aug 24, 2010
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Well, I’ll say, our little Binky dilemma has definitely gotten a response out of some of you! From, “am I supposed to encourage my newborn to take one?!,” to “better a Bink than a thumb! One gets tossed, the other requires surgical amputation.” I think pacifiers might be as divisive and polarizing as politics and religion. Seriously. So here’s a further 2 cents.
All babies suck. And not just when they are hungry. It’s called “non-nutritive sucking” and it’s important for a baby’s development. If they don’t get a pacifier (or won’t take one!) then they’ll probably use a thumb, finger, or lip. In other words, they all suck something. It’s just a matter of what.
Secondly, yes, pacifiers have been shown to possibly decrease the risk of SIDS, or crib death. No one is quite sure why but one theory is that sucking keeps a baby from going so deep into sleep that he forgets to breathe. Just a theory. But cause withstanding, the effect does seem to be a decrease in risk to an infant.
So that leaves us with the core question: do you force a Binky on your kid or not? How do you take it away? Is it better to never have one? I can’t fully answer this. I can only give you the facts. Non-nutritive sucking. SIDS. And I can say this to you as a mother of a child who literally acted like she was being stabbed to death every time one came near her face. In other words, even if you decide a pacifier is the right choice for you, you’re not in control. Maybe you get a Binky kid (Zoe) and maybe you don’t (Eva).
Let’s talk some more later, about limits and time frames and how not to make a Binky string into a strangulation risk. But now I have to go clean the house. Bibi arrives in the morning. And she’s better have a big, fat, brightly colored bag of Soothies for Princess Eva in her carry on.
Dr. Lara Zibners, Aug 22, 2010
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