MamaLaw #13 - I'm every Woman

"I'm Every Woman"

You know how they say (and we know) that being a mom means taking on a bunch of different roles? I.e. a teacher, chef, laundress, nurse, chauffeur, personal assistant, mediator, groomer, psychologist, personal shopper, maid, etc.? Well lately I have totally been playing the nurse/psychologist role with my two little gals. Let's meet the patients, shall we?

Patient No. 1: Youngest has been allergic to dairy since birth and has been on a dairy-free, egg-free diet ever since. In fact she couldn't even digest the proteins in soy formula, so after I stopped nursing she started drinking a special hydrolyzed formula that is easy on her tummy.

Now in case that doesn't sound expensive, let me assure you that it is. Now I have to say that she has been doing great on this formula, but now that she has turned 12 months old, it's time to make that switcheroo to cheaperregular milk. [In fact, I just found this handy dandy chart online, "The Cost of Feeding Your Baby," and if it's accurate, parents who feed their baby the "special" formula end up spending over $1,000 more per year than parents whose kids drink the regular formula. And I know some of you are thinking that breastfeeding is the cheapest and why didn't she just do that? And let me assure you that I tried my very best and it just wasn't in the cards for us to go past 6 months.] Anway, the cost of the formula aside, it's just time for her to start on regular milk. And much to my dismay, there is no foolproof test for baby allergies. According to our pediatrician, the blood tests for kids' allergies are not really all that accurate. And so...the big, important, thirty-minutes-in-the-waiting-room-with-snotty-feverish-kids, fancy-medical-degree advice she gave us was to give Youngest a spoonful of yogurt each day for 3 weeks and see how she reacts. I am sure there is a better way. After all, mankind has FLOWN to the moon and all. But alas here I am, in Week 2 of the Yo-Baby Bonanza, carefully watching my babe to see if she suddenly breaks out into hives or takes a pistachio-green poop or something equally as delightful. Oh, and let me just mention the side battles that I have to fight to make this happen. First, you just try to feed a baby who loves to eat only one spoonful of sweet and creamy yogurt. It ain't easy. She screams at me for more, so I have to have another snack on standby to quickly shove put in her mouth before she explodes into a yogurt-driven rage. Second, hubby -- in true manly form -- doesn't see the need for the whole 3-week trial thing and thinks we should just give Youngest a FULL CUP OF WHOLE MILK NOW. And told the babysitter as much yesterday without my knowledge. Give me strength.

Onto Patient No. 2: For the past 3 or 4 weeks, Oldest has suddenly developed an intense fear of everything animal. I have no idea what triggered it. She used to love going to the zoo and seeing dogs around the neighborhood and stuff. But, now, let her come within 100 yards of a cat, dog, bird, squirrel or hamster and it's all over. Shrill screams, instant tears, heart-wrenching wails and Mary Lou Retton-esq moves to escape the MEAN!UGLY!RABID! bunny rabbit. And it wouldn't be so bad were it not for the beginning of SPRING and the likelihood of us LEAVING THE HOUSE and all. Last week, when we were in Miami we thought it would be lovely to eat outside along the docks and enjoy the weather. Negative. There were birds everywhere and the only way to get Oldest to calm down was to have Grandma restrain hold her in her lap for the entire meal while trying to distract her from french-fry-hungry birds. It was a nightmare. Poor thing. Yesterday we went by a friend's house and I forgot my cell phone at home so I couldn't call ahead to ask that she hide her dog. Well, let me just say that it wasn't pretty. Once she laid eyes on that TERRORIZING!GROWLING!CANNIBAL! fifteen-year-old family dog, she freaked out and even ripped the pocket on my jacket trying to climb up my body. Hubby and I have been trying to talk to her about how animals are our friends and that they won't hurt her and she can just say "Go away birdie!" and such but nothing seems to be working just yet. Anyhoo, I am sure that this too shall pass.

But for now, just call me Fergie, M.D.

'Cause it's all in me.