Follow-Up Visit

We went back over to see the surgeon today.

Our actual follow-up visit wasn’t scheduled until Thursday, but Aviana had complained all day yesterday of her stomach hurting, and was up several times in the night, crying. (Brielle was too, but that’s a different matter.) I just got worried, even though she wasn’t exhibiting any of the signs the docs told us to watch for to key in on a recurring infection. I paged the doctor this morning, and he told us to come on in.

They did an X-ray just to double check everything, and they think part of the problem is she’s a bit constipated. She’s been going everyday, but has more stool than normal in her colon. Doctor told us to give her suppository for a couple of days, and sort of clean out her system. I’m relieved that it’s something so simple.

I think the other part of the problem is she is just milking all the extra attention for all it’s worth.

In point of fact:

“Mama! Mama! I need you!” she screams from upstairs.
“What, what is it, baby?” I breathlessly ask after running up from the laundry room.
“I dist need you to watch dis movie wif me.”

“Maa-maaa! Maa-maaa!!” She wakes up crying from a sound sleep.
I go in and rock her. “Do you hurt, or do you just want some attention?”
“I dist want some attention.”

“It’s so hard to det better and be sit at the same time.”

The awful whining voice has got to go! She did a lot better today. In fact, she was a delight to be around today.

Except when Dada bought her a chocolate chip cookie instead of a cinnamon roll and she threw herself to the ground screaming and flailing at Perkins and then sat on a bench refusing to apologize for 15 minutes.

And when she got escorted out of a store because she wouldn’t say thank you to the lady who picked up and put away the toy she got out, (I was in the process of making her pick it up herself) and she crossed her arms, stuck out her chin and pouted, and the store lady even said, “That’s a sassy one you’ve got there.”

Yes I do, thank you.

And when I said, “No, leave your bundies on.” And she looked me in the eye, and tossed them off anyway.

I feel like we’re at ground zero with discipline. I know it’s not true. I know she is just testing us all over the place to see if the boundaries are still the same. I also know we were so close to losing her, I wasn’t disciplining her like I normally do. It’s just a tough place to be, having your child be so ill.

Now though, she is fine. I know without a shadow of a doubt she is fine. I guess this week my main task will be to follow through every. single. time.

And while we’re on the topic of discipline, I notice that I have a harder time being consistent with Brielle than I did with Aviana at the same age. Brielle seems like so much more the baby than Aviana, now. Brielle is brilliant–

In point of fact:

My grandma, “Brielle, where is your other shoe?”
Brielle takes her into the bedroom and shows her the shoe rack.

A woman on the phone in a restaurant. “yeah…we won’t be home for at least an hour…. go ahead and ride the other horse…blah, blah blah…”
Brielle, who has been interacting with me, points out the horse on the wallpaper.

Me, pointing out the buttons on the printer and computer tower: “No, no. These are Mama’s. If you touch these, you will get a swat.”
Brielle, listening intently and making eye contact with me, “swats” her own hand.

So I know she notices, remembers and understands all sorts of concepts. But I find myself telling her “No, no.” over and over again, instead of just disciplining her the first time. And because I don’t discipline the first time, then I find myself getting irritated with her, because she keeps doing it.

I don’t really have a point. But I could sure use some advice and/or encouragement and/or milk chocolate right now.

2 thoughts on “Follow-Up Visit

  1. I’ll sit down and have some chocolate milk with you because I have no advice. I have the same issue with Judah, being the second and my baby. I am sure I had the same issues with Eve as well I just didn’t have an older more “disciplined” one to compare my parenting to.

    So, how about that chocolate milk?


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