Every parent, one goal: keeping our kids safe and healthy. Tips from the experts at Dayton Children’s Hospital

By Darci Jordan | Monday, May 21, 2012, 06:59 AM

I had the privilege of spending some time with an array of people from Dayton Children’s Hospital recently.

Thankfully, my visit wasn’t because one of my kids was sick or injured, but I was invited because I’m a mom and I write about it.

Yes, in fact there is an army of us who write/blog/vent about motherhood.

We were joined by Dayton Children’s bloggers: Dr. Gregory Ramey a child psychologist who also writes a parenting column printed weekly in the Dayton Daily News; “Dr. Mom” Melissa King, a pediatrician in the Children’s Clinic and Mommy Safety expert, Jessica Saunders.

As a mom who struggles with anxiety, my first thought was, “Uh-Oh. What symptoms am I going to have to watch for - constantly - in my kids now?”

While I did walk away from the panel with a few new things to worry about, I also found that this group helped to dispel fears of things that are often exaggerated. They each touched on some Hot Topics for the coming summer season.

For example: ticks (the creepy, crawly, biting kind). Dr. Mom explained that while there is concern for the spread of disease by ticks, it is rare. Most symptoms of illness spread by ticks appear within 48 to 72 hours following the bite. And - here’s a tip - ticks can be removed by using a cotton ball soaked in soapy water.

Dr. Ramey shared his Secrets of Effective Parenting. “Work the problem rather than whine about it,” he said.

Ramey suggests having a sit-down dinner with your family at least four times each week making the rules clear: no electronic distractions. No TV, no cell phones, etc.

“Work for the rewarding payoff.”

Summer is right around the corner so, Mommy Safety expert Jessica Saunders stressed the urgency of making sure you do not leave your child in a hot car.

As of May 7, when this panel was held, two children in the United States had already died of hyperthermia because they were left in a hot car.

“It can happen to anyone,” said Saunders.

A campaign - ACT: Avoid. Create reminders. Take Action. - has been launched to give parents tips on avoiding this tragedy.

Saunders suggests simple things: put your purse or briefcase in the backseat with your child or set an alarm on your cell phone to remind you of any change in your routine.

While you are setting the alarm on your phone, you might want to also consider removing the batteries from your bathroom scale and tossing the musical children’s books. Not because the bathroom scale is a known enemy, but the battery it runs on is. A coin-sized lithium battery - if ingested - can kill a child. Not from choking, but by burning through the esophagus.

Now that my daughter is being weaned from her pacifier, she has unfortunately taken to putting everything else in her mouth. Consequently, our car key fobs no longer work and we have to walk up to the TV to change the channel.

For more information - on pretty much all things related to kids health - or to follow these three bloggers visit childrensdayton.org.

Contact this contributing writer at Motherhoodcolumn@yahoo.com or facebook.com/motherhoodCTC.

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An unwelcome visit from the Ear-Infection-Fairy … again

By Darci Jordan | Monday, May 14, 2012, 08:42 AM

It has been one of those weeks. You know the kind; when Murphy shows up and says, “Hey! I make the law!”

The Hub was on a business trip, my parents had the nerve to be on vacation (leaving me completely and utterly alone) and the Infection Fairy paid a harsh visit to my daughter.

I jinxed us again, having just said out-loud that the kids hadn’t been sick much this year. My oldest even received a Perfect Attendance certificate for the winter period at school. Of course, he was absent - home sick - the day the certificate was presented.

Soon after my son’s brief tummy ailment, my daughter developed a nasty hack. She ran a low-grade fever, too: “Probably viral,” I reasoned.

But soon she was pulling on her ear, saying “My ear hurts.” And she was coughing so hard she … well, lost her dinner in the car (Parenting Rule # 1: always, always have a barf-bag in the car).

So, off to see the pediatrician we went.

The Princess had an ear infection worthy of treatment. She was put on an antibiotic - the thick, chalky pink stuff - and we were sent home. However, this girl was done with swallowing anything from a syringe-dropper.

Forcing the medicine into her mouth became a cruel kind of “How dare you get sick!” punishment for both of us.

Just when I thought she was feeling better, she took a turn for the worse. She became lethargic and spiked a temperature of 104.3.

My Worry-Meter was off the charts. I couldn’t even enjoy my nightly (huge, heaping) bowl of ice-cream after the kids went to bed (because then I don’t have to share). Instead, I monitored her all night and sped off to the doctor again first thing in the morning.

Apparently, if you spit out your antibiotic it does not work. Who knew?

An antibiotic shot (in two doses) was administered - painfully - into my baby girl’s thigh. This scenario was repeated for three (yes, tthhhrreeeeee) days. Her thighs looked like pin-cushions and the Band-Aid people all got a pay raise.

As a result, Operation Binky-Be-Gone was aborted.

But we got by - with a little help from a friend - who brought dinner, watched my neglected sons while I made another trip to the pharmacy and offered encouraging words after my sick child then threw-up dinner, “It’s OK. We’re moms now!”

And to think I felt so “alone.”

I’m happy to report that the Princess is on the mend - naturally - because Daddy is back in town and Grandpa and Memaw are now home from vacation.

Their travel agent, however, has gone missing. Hmm…

Contact this contributing writer at Motherhoodcolumn@yahoo.com or facebook.com/motherhoodCTC.

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Pulling the plug: Day 2

By Darci Jordan | Monday, May 7, 2012, 07:28 AM

The Binky Diaries Continued …

What is the best way to break your child of the pacifier habit? I wish I knew. But, I can tell you this: 1) Pacifiers are highly addictive; possibly even more so than Words With Friends.

2) If your child uses a pacifier, try breaking the habit before he/she is old enough to realize how cruel you are being by abruptly taking it away; thus avoiding him/her yelling, “I don’t like you anymore!” followed by an ear-piercing scream.

3) Keep the coffee warm … ALL day. You are going to need it because you will not sleep through your child’s cries in the night for, “Biiiinnkkky, please, bbiinnkkyy…” or her stumbling sleepily into your room begging you for mercy.

4) Have a sponsor available to take your calls at all times: “Oh-my-word, Mother. I just can’t take it. I am SO tired. She’s even moving the chairs so she can stand on them to look for her binky in the cabinet. “Yes, I’m brewing more coffee.”

5) Said child will wear you down.

And wear me down is exactly what my little Princess Persistent did. We made it through nap time on day two of Operation: Binky-Be-Gone.

By the time bedtime rolled around that next day I could take no more. The toothpicks holding my eyelids open were failing and my temper was, too.

So, we compromised.

Nothing says, “Parenting Fail!” like compromising with a 2-year-old.

We are now on day four of the pacifier compromise and it’s going surprisingly well.

Perhaps baby-steps is the better way to go with her (at least that is what I’m telling myself so I don’t feel like a failure).

After my daughter got out of bed for the 12th (no kidding) time on day two, I gave in. I went to the secret hiding place and pulled out one of her beloved pacifiers.

I picked her up, exhausted and stumbling down the hall, and placed her back in her bed. I presented her with the prize binky in my hand. Her eyes widened with hope, and then closed immediately into slumber when I placed it in her mouth.

She didn’t even have time to ask for that second binky she is so accustomed to having in her hand before she was out.

And then so was I.

My shoulders slumped; I breathed a sigh of relief and crash landed into my own bed.

The next morning, feeling refreshed, I took her binky from her and put it away. It only comes out now at nap time and bedtime.

One day at a time and one step at a time, although I’m not ruling out a visit from the Binky Fairy in the near future.

Contact this contributing writer at Motherhoodcolumn@yahoo.com or facebook.com/MotherhoodCTC.

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Pulling the plug: day 1

By Darci Jordan | Monday, April 23, 2012, 08:05 AM

I don’t really know what made me do it, but I did. I pulled the plug - with no warning - on my 2-year-old daughter’s pacifier habit.

She refused to go to sleep without at least two pacifiers (one in mouth and one in hand) and if she found one during playtime, she always popped it into her mouth.

I admit, as a mom of three - and her being my third - I was more inclined to pop a pacifier into her mouth myself.

It was the easy solution to a tired/crabby/whiny/persistent toddler.

It was time to hold an intervention; for her sake and mine.

She’s been aching for her beloved Binky like an addict for more than a full day now. It’s not been without difficulty…

Day One: On that unexpected morn, the Princess woke from her slumber before the sun came up. Maybe it was because she woke me so early, too, that I decided to suddenly impose this cruel, torturous Behavior Modification Plan.

No, let’s be honest: I did it because my husband (the Princess’ personal servant) was super busy with work and would not be around to undermine my intervention attempt.

My son was more than 3-years-old when the Binky Fairy came to exchange his pacifier(s) for a new pair of Big Boy preschool shoes. It wasn’t a cake-walk, but at least he was old enough to understand what happened.

My daughter? She just thinks her pacifiers disappeared. Except for the one she found in her brother’s room … and in the sink (I really thought I had found them all!).

I quickly took the discovered hidden treasures from her and instead gave her a Lollipop (no, not really, but I did take them).

But soon, nap-time was upon us.

I tucked her in bed - bracing myself against her cries for, “Biiiinky!” - and left the room. Then she left the room, too. Again and again and again …

I almost gave in, “Maybe I should start slow and just let her have one, and only when she’s sleeping. No. No! Be strong. No binky!”

I carried her back to her bed over and over and over - not speaking a word to her, just placing her back in bed and leaving the room quietly (Super Nanny Style).

After eight brisk walks down the hall with her, she finally went to sleep.

But not for long, and she didn’t sleep well; I thought, come night time, she’d be exhausted and wouldn’t care if she had her binky.

Wrong. What a long night it was …

(Next week: Day Two.)

Contact this contributing writer at Motherhoodcolumn@yahoo.com or facebook.com/motherhoodCTC.

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Because that’s what Gram would do …

By Darci Jordan | Tuesday, April 17, 2012, 07:07 AM

It’s a uniquely quiet afternoon this day - the Eve of Easter. My daughter is napping and my husband and sons are out-and-about visiting family.

After a chaotic family vacation - er, “trip” rather - during Spring Break week, this quiet time is welcome, but for me it is also reflective.

The plastic Easter eggs are stuffed with candy, the Easter baskets are filled and the eggs are ready to be colored this evening.

This Easter will be different though. We lost a wonderful lady just a few weeks ago: my grandmother or “Mamaw” as she was fondly called by her Greats.

I recall my own childhood Easters attending church with Gram and Grandpa; wearing an Easter Bonnet and singing “In my Easter bonnet, with all the frills upon it …”

There are pictures of more than 30 Easter celebrations at my Gram’s house; every year a picture of her traditional bunny cake being decorated by the grand-kids.

There will still be a bunny cake on Easter day; the tradition being passed forward to her daughter, my aunt.

She was never a complainer, though she suffered with severe rheumatoid arthritis.

“How are you today, Gram?”

Her answer - even through her final days - was always, “I’m fine.”

Faith and prayers have carried my family through these last few weeks (thanks, all).

I miss my Gram. I hated telling my sons and daughter that she was no longer with us. My heart aches for my grandfather who after 64-years of marriage is now on his own. Sad times, but also enlightening times.

I find myself asking, “What would Gram say or do?”

I hear her voice calling to my daughter, “There’s my little sweetie!”

And when I just can’t hang on to those memories and keep it together I’m reminded that in the end, things are going to be OK.

It’s my own daughter who brings me to this peaceful state. Being that she is a 2-year-old, I hear the irony in that statement.

Things in life happen that are difficult, trying and sad. I’m guilty of taking my many blessings for granted. And when my kids are acting like heathens, it’s not easy to consider them a “blessing.”

But they are. And oh, to have that child-like mind again.

My daughter now sleeps in a Big Girl Bed, meaning, she can climb out. And climb out she does - more often then I’d like.

At my wits end, she climbs out one last time and pleads for me to sit with her in the rocking chair. I’m exhausted - physically and emotionally - but, I give in. I sit with her for those few serene moments and think, “This is what Gram would do for her. She loved her - and all of us - so much.”

And then my daughter asks me to sing to her. “Sing ‘Jesus Loves Me’” she says.

Her request gives me pause: yes, He does; I just needed a reminder.

So I sing, because that is what Gram would do; and my daughter sings along with me. I think we’re going to be just “fine.”

Happy Easter.

Contact this contributing writer at Motherhoodcolumn@yahoo.com or facebook.com/MotherhoodCTC.

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Spring break is over! I need a vacation …

By Darci Jordan | Monday, April 9, 2012, 09:24 PM

So, Spring Break week has come and gone. We had no plans to go veg on the beach somewhere warm, but we didn’t want to keep the kids cooped up at home for a week either. So we decided to tag along on a business trip with my husband to the Windy City.

We loaded into the Family Wagon for the six-hour-drive to Chicago. Other than my 2-year-old handing me a booger the size of Texas (guess who forgot to bring tissues?), the ride was fairly smooth.

When we arrived at the hotel our kids were bursting with energy and the family chaos began.

“I wanna go swimming!” “Can we watch a movie?” “When are we going to Lego Land?”

In the midst of this barrage of questions, said 2-year-old (who is gradually being potty-trained) decided to change her own diaper thus resulting in a … well, we’ll just call it a “mess” on the floor (a reminder as to why this germ-phobic mom cringes in hotel rooms).

Next up? Dinner. We opted for a small, local Italian joint. More importantly, it was close.

My husband - who is trilingual - was speaking to the restaurant owner in his native tongue of Italian. My kids - who think they are able to speak other languages correctly - decided to order their dinner in Spanish.

“Quesadilla, por favor!” they said giggling between their many bickering sessions.

“… and Mommy will have a vino, please,” I added.

Later, my husband took the kids to the pool - (for a “bath” of course) - while I set up the room and disinfected all surfaces.

After the conference the next day we met up with friends and ventured to the aquarium.

Call me Small Town Spoiled, but we lost an hour in traffic, another hour waiting in line, $20 on parking and $35 on hotdogs and snacks because we missed lunchtime.

It was total chaos in the aquarium so we moved on to dinner - at a Brazilian steakhouse - and we were outnumbered: four adults and six tired kids with knives. Enough said.

But did we learn? Of course not (otherwise, what would I write about?).

“Let’s all go to the conference trade-show with Daddy!” we decided early the next day.

This was like trick-or-treat for the boys who paraded around the event with their “shopping bags” loading up on free loot: ink pens, stress balls, key chains, candy.

However, it was the end-of-the-line for our exhausted toddler. Cat-naps in the car/stroller just weren’t cutting it. She collapsed onto the floor, screaming her protests. I scooped her up and carried her - flailing all the way - to the car.

On our way out she targeted an innocent businessman and - before I could stop her - threw her binky at him as hard as she possibly could.

I apologized profusely, shrugged off the gasps from the room, gathered my child - and myself - and bolted from the building.

And to think it was only noon on day two … (should have gone to the beach).

Contact this contributing writer at Motherhoodcolumn@yahoo.com or facebook.com/motherhoodCTC.

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The Tooth Fairy hates me … and now my kids, too

By Darci Jordan | Monday, April 2, 2012, 09:08 PM

This is beginning to sound repetitive, but I had to take my kid to the dentist this week; again.

There were no embarrassing moments or news-worthy stories this time, but my 2-year-old daughter did promptly march into the office and immediately announce, “That dog is going to eat me!” (“That Dog” is Rascal the Chihuahua who visits patients).

The employees in our dental office must think I make appointments because I need a topic for my next column.

But, no; it’s because the Tooth Fairy hates me. She has always hated me.

How do I know this? Because she only left me a Quarter for each of my baby teeth. Kids these days are getting upwards of twenty-bucks per tooth.

Back in the day $20 would have bought at least six My Little Ponies; today it will buy maybe two.

I held on to my baby teeth until - no kidding - the age of 14

My first two baby teeth were pulled by the dentist and my last two baby teeth were pulled by the dentist.

And now, the same goes for my sons - at least for the first two teeth.

I like to think that it’s because my boys inherited my super-strong, cavity-free chompers (although they also got the crooked-gappy chompers of my day, too).

It never crossed my mind that my 6-year-old would be sprouting permanent teeth, but he was. And it was right behind his baby tooth.

“Mom,” he said with his finger in his mouth. “I feel something stuck in my teeth.”

I grabbed the floss and said, “Let me see.”

There it was, a brand new Big-Person Tooth. Needless-to-say, the floss didn’t work.

I poked around in my son’s mouth trying to wiggle his baby tooth but it wouldn’t budge. We poked, prodded and wiggled - did everything short of tying a string from his tooth to the doorknob - for another two weeks to no avail.

That is when it hit me: the Tooth Fairy hates me and now, my kids, too.

Even my oldest son, at 8-years-old, has lost only two teeth - because they were pulled - just last summer. He’s “dentally immature” by several months.

There is hope though, as he has two top teeth that are loose (they have been loose since before last Christmas).

Maybe the Tooth Fairy will come to our house next time without any coaxing from the dentist. But, I’m pretty sure she won’t be leaving $20.

(As for my daughter; this is my new saving grace when it comes to convincing a toddler that oral care is fun: http://www.fireflytoothbrush.com/products/)

Contact this contributing writer at Motherhoodcolumn@yahoo.com or Facebook.com/MotherhoodCTC.

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