Archive for March, 2011

For this week’s topic I would like to discuss child related injuries. I’m not talking about injuries that children sustain e.g. by shoving a pencil up their nose or hanging upside down on wet monkey bars using only their teeth, I’m talking about the injuries we moms sustain as a result of having children.

We all know and expect the usual ones. Our bodies are never quite the same following pregnancy and childbirth, the onset of wrinkles seems to follow immediately after giving birth from worry and lack of sleep and don’t even get me started on the mental scars from stress, guilt and constantly asking ourselves “did I do the right thing there?” But I’ve discovered over the last few months that there are other dangers lurking around every corner.

My first was during the Christmas holidays when I threw myself and Flo down the stairs. Distracted by the snuggling, cuddly, sleepy girl I was carrying, I missed the last step.  The result of which was a badly sprained ankle that prevented me from performing my best Rock Band Wii groove over the holidays and for the months following.

The second occurred two weeks ago and started off so innocuously that it’s hard to believe I have arrived at where I am today. Whist carrying Flo’s empty (and pretty light) stroller up the stairs behind me, whilst simultaneously holding her hand in front of me to prevent her slipping on the stairs, I managed to injure my back. What started off as a mild pain turned into an ‘I can’t think straight, someone please knock me unconscious with a large blunt object’ pain.

You’ll understand that as a mom, being slowed down by a little excruciating pain is not an option. I tried an acetaminophen/ibuprofen combo in enough quantities to floor an elephant – it did nothing. I tried a chiropractor but despite all the cracking and popping (which he assured me was a good thing) the pain persisted. As a last ditch attempt at relief I went for a deep tissue massage which although it started off promising enough with lavender oil and soothing music, it was all just a nasty ruse and turned out to be more like a form of torture.

There is however light at the end of the tunnel, I have discovered a miracle cure. A glass or five two of wine or vodka or both, works wonders for the pain – or perhaps I just get to a point where I no longer care.

So in summary:

  1. Having children can seriously damage your health.
  2. They age you, by at least 5 years for every one of theirs, both inside and out (which combining Flo and Mo makes me around 90 years old – I certainly feel it).
  3. Deep tissue massage is not a treat or relaxing in any way. It is in fact a form of physical abuse.
  4. Alcohol is a far more effective form of pain relief than either acetaminophen or ibuprofen, so whatever ails you, pour yourself a glass, it’s doctors orders.


Last evening I came to the realization that all two enemies need in order to reach peaceful reconciliation, is a common foe over which to unite. If you’ve ever studied history or watched daytime soap operas you may have known this already. I probably did too, but what really brought it home was a pretty spectacular mommy meltdown.

Mo and Flo love each other. I know this and occasionally I even get a glimpse of it when they have a sneaky hug or kiss. But man, can those two fight. The hours between 8:30am and 4:00pm are pretty quiet around here, except for the occasional 2 year old tantrum over the “no chocolate brownies before 9am” rule. The hours before and after Mo’s school time however, are often akin to world war 3.

Mo you see, is an evil dictator who thinks that if she yells at Flo with enough force and authority, she will become her compliant servant. Flo unfortunately is a rebel, who when peaceful protest fails, is prepared to use violence to get her own way (pinching and slapping are common and once under extreme circumstances, biting was deployed – not a good day!) I’ve tried all the usual tricks. Taking turns – “why don’t we let Flo finish her turn and then you can have the bike.” Empathy – “how do you think you would feel if Mo took your favorite coloring book and colored on every page?” Nothing seems to work.

So when the arguing, which had been bubbling under the surface all the way home in the car, started 5 minutes after walking through the door last evening, I reached crack point, total red mist time and I snapped. The words “that’s it, I’ve had it,” were uttered at high volume. I’m pretty sure my face turned almost purple, I know my head felt like it was literally going to explode, there may have even been steam coming from my ears. Children were banished to separate rooms and mommy went to another room to count to a trillion, billion.

The result? A miracle, within minutes, realizing that this new enemy was even more extreme and volatile than themselves, Mo and Flo joined forces and formed a plan. They played quietly, negotiating terms for peaceful coexistence and left mommy alone until her face went back to normal.

So I guess Dr Phil is right, (who me? Watch Dr Phil? No!), to be a good parent and get your kids to behave you don’t need to be their friend, you must be their mortal enemy!

p.s. it lasted all of 30 minutes before negotiations broke down and battle once again commenced!

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