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Hey Simon and Theodore! Look at me!
If you had to pick, with which cartoon character would you want people to confuse you? I know it’s an odd question, but go with me here. I always had my eye on Beauty (as in Beast), or even the Little Mermaid. I could, if I had to settle for a member of the animal kingdom, but even then it would have to be a starlet, like Minnie or Miss Piggy. But to my complete horror, I was informed by a 5 year-old this week that I, and I quote, “sound like a chipmunk. Alvin, mostly.”
Well, at least I got the leader. That’s something. Seriously, this comment left me a bit confused. It was just another day at the hospital and I was helping one of the trainee doctors sew up a little boy’s face. He’d had an altercation with a wall and the wall had prevailed. Anyway, the trainees were tempted to put him to sleep for the repair but I managed to convince them that a calm attitude and a lot of numbing medicine would do the trick. Then I gloved up and started injecting the anesthetic shot, chatting and joking and doing my best to distract the little wallbanger.
And that’s when he announced, to the embarrassment of his father and the absolute delight of the other doctors and nurses, that I remind him most of Alvin the Chipmunk. Apparently he owns several of their DVDs and went on to describe the riveting storylines involving 3 Chipmunks and their proud human.
I’ll admit, I wasn’t feeling terribly flattered but he was happily chatting and I was able to finish the injection and assist the trainee doctor with the sutures. It wasn’t until we had completely finished and his head was swathed in bandages that I actually finally realized what he meant. And then I felt immensely better.
I’m not actually a squeaky rodent. I’m American. My patient was British.
Alvin and I share an accent, not a pitch or frequency.
I love kids.
Summer Travels
Well, as you can see, I’ve been gone. On vacation. If by, “vacation,” you mean taking two small children on an airplane ride to see their grandparents. Without their father. Only to find the weather there is horrible, cold and raining. And with no kitchen of my own to speak of. Anyway. Sorry for the silence. I’ve been on vacation.
No matter how difficult it is, I really want my kids to have a close relationship with all their grandparents. Even if that means 15 hour flights with two small 20-mile an hour storms locked in a steel tube. Or a week in a tiny apartment that seems to have actually been designed as a death-trap for toddlers.
That’s part of the difficulty of traveling with little ones, isn’t it? You can’t expect others, especially those who haven’t lived with a young child for decades, to have the same keen eye when it comes to home safety as you do. And that’s also why this trip was anything but relaxing for me. The minute we arrived, I was scanning the place for chemicals, weapons, latex balloons, anything I thought could hurt Eva and Zoe. Oh, of course in addition to expensive ceramics and home electronics that could also be in danger themselves.
To my delight, my father-in-law had gone through the entire apartment with a ball of twine, tying nearly every cupboard shut. I thought we were okay. And then I walked into the kitchen. For convenience, he’d failed to tie off these cupboards. And to my delight I quickly realized that my in-laws not only keep drain cleaner and heart medications in open containers on the floor, but that they also actually keep their cleaving knives on the bottom shelf of the most accessible cupboard in the room.
How did my husband survive to adulthood? I remain mystified.
Anyway, I spent the next 60 minutes sneaking around, putting toilet cleaner up high and moving sharp blades and muscle relaxants to higher ground. Then I made sure all the doors to their 7th floor balcony were locked and the key was removed. I pulled the blinds all the way up and tucked their cords up near the ceiling. I checked windows, shut doors and basically rearranged their kitchen. And then I sat down.
Only to watch the girls begin smearing yogurt all over the furniture.
So, I’m back. And I’m spending the rest of my day lying in a quiet room in the dark. I need it.
“Child-Proof” and other lies.
“Hey, if a 2 year-old can get the safety cap off a bottle of Tylenol, do you think it’s doing its job?
That was my sister yesterday as we were chatting about life and children, breastfeeding and picky eaters. My niece presenting her mother with a fully opened bottle of acetaminophen tablets briefly interrupted our conversation.
Acetaminophen is a great medication for the treatment of fever and pain in infants and children. When properly dosed. Unlike ibuprofen, which has a pretty wide safety margin, acetaminophen-containing products can quickly land a child in the hospital if taken in overdose. Because of its effects on the liver, a child who has taken more than a standard dose needs to be evaluated quickly and if lab tests indicate so, will require antidote therapy for several days to ensure there is no lasting damage. That means that if a child found with an open bottle of acetaminophen and there is any question as to how much she has consumed requires, at the very least, a phone call to Poison Control.
After a quick look in the bottle and a thorough search of Olivia’s mouth and self, we decided that she hadn’t actually ingested any pills. Plus the child swore she hadn’t. Of course I believe everything a 2 year-old tells me so I felt pretty comfortable not insisting on a trip to the hospital.
However, my sister’s ability to regulate her household medicine cabinet left me less confident. After all, any niece of mine is surely not to be stopped by something so ridiculous as a “child-proof cap.” Even if my sister claims she herself can’t operate them. In the same way that every adult in my house is completely perplexed by the locks on our kitchen cabinets and yet my children seem to have no problem opening the drawers when no one is looking.
It’s an educational project, this child-proofing business. Teaching our kids problem-solving. One more way in which raising children is striking years off my life.
National Poison Control: 1-800-222-1222
Write it down.
Tumble tumble tumble splat.
It was the worst 3-5 seconds of my life. If I never see anything like that again in my life, it will still be too soon. Eva fell down the stairs last weekend. Actually, let’s be precise. I tripped while she was in my arms and lost my hold on her little body, sending her flying out of my arms and onto the wooden staircase. From there she thumped and bumped her way down to the cement landing. That makes about 8 stairs, plus the 4 feet from my arms, launched like a rocket onto a hard surface and then onto an even harder one.
And she’s fine.
I wasn’t. I’m still not sure I am. One thing that I truly didn’t appreciate before becoming a parent was the incessant fear that would become part of my everyday life. If they aren’t with me and the phone rings, I panic. If they are with me and I hear a loud “thump,” I panic. If they are with me and I hear silence, I panic even more. Raising children is frankly terrifying.
Naturally our multiple floors home doesn’t do much to alleviate my fears. Once the girls started moving I installed the mother of all baby gates at both top and bottom. I mean serious gates. So serious I had to call the company right after I finished the installation to find out how to open them. I’m not joking.
Of course, that doesn’t protect them while moving between their room and the kitchen and living room, a necessary evil. We make a big deal about “on our bottoms!” and holding hands and have pretty much done everything in our power to ensure that they are as safe as they can be here in our home.
No one accounted for wide-bottomed stretchy yoga pants.
My foot caught in the bottom of my trouser and the next thing I knew, I was struggling to keep myself from pitching down the staircase on top of her. All I could do was watch in horror. Our houseguest said my screams “literally came up through the floor of the kitchen.”
I probably reached the bottom of the staircase half a nanosecond after she did and as she lay there, screaming, I somehow, I don’t know how, had the wherewithal to reach behind her head and feel around and down onto her neck. I straightened out her legs and called her name. And when she opened her eyes and screamed right at me, I carefully picked her up, holding her to me and feeling every inch of her at the same time.
The worst few moments of my life. As I sat there, shaking and white (or so I’m told), it became very clear within a matter of seconds that she was okay. Her cry was angry and hurt but absolutely normal. She was holding onto my neck and nothing I did or touched seemed to hurt her. A few minutes (hours it felt like!) she was sitting on my lap, binky and blankie in hand, whimpering and throwing me nasty looks. Which I clearly deserved.
And the rest of the day was spent talking about how poor Eva went “tumble tumble tumble splat” and about how unbelievably lucky we were. She never lost consciousness and was immediately moving everything and acting absolutely appropriately (albeit mad). I watched her the rest of the day to make sure we didn’t have any episodes of vomiting (signs of a head injury) or weird limps (broken bone) or belly pain (internal bleeding). Oh, yes, and there was also a period of lying in a dark room for me.
What have we learned? No matter how careful you are, accidents can happen. Children are bouncy. I can’t keep them safe all the time. But most household falls are not that serious. Good lessons.
Oh but wait. Also when your mother falls while carrying you down the stairs , you get pizza and ice cream for dinner, are allowed to carry your binky and wubbie around the whole day, and get an extra episode of Elmo. Those are also very important lessons.
Go hug your kid for me. Just watch your step.
Top Secret Secret: Exposed!
I know none of you are going to believe this, but I have a little secret I’d like to share with you. Are you ready? Okay, here we go: pediatricians don’t know everything. What!? I know. It’s shocking. Yet true. Yes, we do know a lot, about everything from illnesses to injuries to normal development. And during our training there is a large emphasis placed upon pediatric primary care as we know it in the US: guiding a family through the adventures of parenting and making ourselves a resource not only for concerns about health but also on issues like feeding, sleeping and potty training. In fact, a huge part of our education is focused on the well child and educating families about everything from water safety to shampoo brands.
I know none of you are going to believe this, but I have a little secret I’d like to share with you. Are you ready? Okay, here we go: pediatricians don’t know everything. What!? I know. It’s shocking. Yet true. Yes, we do know a lot, about everything from illnesses to injuries to normal development. And during our training there is a large emphasis placed upon pediatric primary care as we know it in the US: guiding a family through the adventures of parenting and making ourselves a resource not only for concerns about health but also on issues like feeding, sleeping and potty training. In fact, a huge part of our education is focused on the well child and educating families about everything from water safety to shampoo brands.
And here’s where my dirty little confession comes in. For the bits we talk about that aren’t based on science, like which diaper wipes are best or whether green vegetables really need to come before yellow fruits, well, this information has come to us in many ways: our teachers, our own experiences, our reading and yes, even our own mothers. Don’t get me wrong, what we have to say is often tried and true and can be really valuable information for a parent who needs guidance. But not always. Because what works for Eva and Zoe might not work for you. It might. But maybe not.
And that is my point today. Yesterday I got an email from my sister that had me horribly upset. Based on her pediatrician’s advice she had enforced a rule upon her daughter that resulted in hours of screaming. (I sort of assumed she meant Olivia was crying but then again, it could just as easily have been my sister.) This is a rule that I personally don’t agree with and I counsel families differently on this issue. But even bigger than that is that I know my sister and the way we were raised and trying to follow her pediatrician’s advice flew smack into the face of what her instincts told her.
I know I’ve said it before but today I’d like to say it again. You know your kid best. If you think little Bubby is sicker than anyone else, it’s okay to ask for a second opinion. If your pediatrician tells you the best shampoo for little Sally smells like jasmine and it makes you puke, it’s okay to use another brand. Trust yourself and your instincts. And remember that not every method of discipline works for every child and every family.
As pediatricians, we are here to give you suggestions based on both science and experience but also colored by my upbringing, personal beliefs and what my Mom said. Of course you also have to remember that we have the benefit of seeing what works and what doesn’t for many families and many different children so we often can have really solid ideas. But if something we say doesn’t sit well with you, ask! Maybe I’ve got an alternative idea. Heck, I’m full of ideas. Full of them! But if the reason I’m saying something comes down to real science, health and safety, I’ll tell you that too.
My point is that parenting is about finding a balance between the advice you receive and what works for your kid. It’s about trial and error. And a lot about finding your own comfort zone. “Expert” advice is just that, especially for “soft” topics like feeding, potty training and sleep training.
In other words, please, whatever you do, don’t blindly follow my first advice just because I’m Lara Zibners. MD.
Although I am pretty awesome…
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"WHAT I LIKED: This book is written in a funny, down to earth way that doesn't make you feel like an idiot. I really would have appreciated something like this when my kids were really little and I freaked out over everything they put in their mouths. It has a scenario/question and answer format, with clear answers on when not to panic and when to call 911."
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