When I posted this picture on FB I explained the events in a few short sentences. And got the expected hahas and wows.
But the real story is so much longer...and more wonderful...and weird.
Briefly, here's all that happened. Jane has been a bit off since the family visit three days ago: less cheerful and starting to be sneaky in ways I've never seen before. Basically, there have been a few too many opportunities to teach why it's much worse to lie when confronted than just fess up right away.
Today as I walked into the playroom she jumped up and bolted out the other door guiltily. I called her back but she wouldn't say why she'd run. I reminded her punishments were worse if she lied and then sent her to the couch to think about what she wanted to tell me.
A few minutes later she came to me and said, "I don't get in trouble if I tell the truth, right?" I nodded and then she said, "There's something in my nose. I think it's a shoe."
I stayed calm and questioned her enough to get the story--yep, she'd been shoving a tiny plastic doll shoe up her nose as I walked into the room.
(Here's the wonderful: she told the truth! If she hadn't told me who knows how long it would've been in there! I'm so happy my kid shoved a shoe up her nose and then told me about it! Lesson learned! Horray!)
We tried to get it out at home but then took her to the doctor for professional removal. Here's where the weird moments happened.
1. When talking to the nurse I called it a Barbie shoe at first because that was the easiest term to use. Then, as she questioned me about size I said, well, actually I think it was a Polly Pocket shoe. (These were toys grandma had just given the girls and I, obviously, hadn't looked closely at what was inside the case.) The nurse acted like it was strange that I would confuse the two and made comments about Polly Pocket shoes being much smaller than Barbie shoes. She looked at me, puzzled, as to why I wouldn't know that.
And I just didn't feel like launching into an explanation about how I'm only 4 months into the world of girl toys and not yet up to speed on the lingo. So I am doll ignorant. Sue me.
2. Jane did not seek comfort or react to pain. It was way in there and the doc used long tweezers and there was some bleeding by the end. If James had been in that situation, first, it would've taken three nurses to hold him down, and second, he would've been sobbing and begging for me to save him. Jane just sat there all by herself on the big examining table and didn't speak. I went over and held her hand and talked to her during it even though she didn't ask.
It was one of those starkly sad moments when I realize there are huge holes in her life experience, like, the whole entire concept of seeking maternal comfort.
But now I get to end on the wonderful again.
Jane needs to repeat things endlessly as she processes information. She likes to get a 1-2 line script and repeat it at least 20 times. Before we left the exam room I took her onto my lap and we had a little chat.
So, as we're exiting through the waiting room I'm holding the specimen jar with the shoe inside and she's trailing behind me and announcing in her most important voice, "We do NOT put shoes up our nose! No! That is NOT a SAFE way to play with toys!"
Every single person in that waiting room busted out laughing. Even the receptionist doubled over. And I got to be the mom with the cute little girl saying the cute things.
Not once during the whole event did I say foster. Cuz sometimes I want it to be just about the shoe in the nose and nothing more.
But the real story is so much longer...and more wonderful...and weird.
Briefly, here's all that happened. Jane has been a bit off since the family visit three days ago: less cheerful and starting to be sneaky in ways I've never seen before. Basically, there have been a few too many opportunities to teach why it's much worse to lie when confronted than just fess up right away.
Today as I walked into the playroom she jumped up and bolted out the other door guiltily. I called her back but she wouldn't say why she'd run. I reminded her punishments were worse if she lied and then sent her to the couch to think about what she wanted to tell me.
A few minutes later she came to me and said, "I don't get in trouble if I tell the truth, right?" I nodded and then she said, "There's something in my nose. I think it's a shoe."
I stayed calm and questioned her enough to get the story--yep, she'd been shoving a tiny plastic doll shoe up her nose as I walked into the room.
(Here's the wonderful: she told the truth! If she hadn't told me who knows how long it would've been in there! I'm so happy my kid shoved a shoe up her nose and then told me about it! Lesson learned! Horray!)
We tried to get it out at home but then took her to the doctor for professional removal. Here's where the weird moments happened.
1. When talking to the nurse I called it a Barbie shoe at first because that was the easiest term to use. Then, as she questioned me about size I said, well, actually I think it was a Polly Pocket shoe. (These were toys grandma had just given the girls and I, obviously, hadn't looked closely at what was inside the case.) The nurse acted like it was strange that I would confuse the two and made comments about Polly Pocket shoes being much smaller than Barbie shoes. She looked at me, puzzled, as to why I wouldn't know that.
And I just didn't feel like launching into an explanation about how I'm only 4 months into the world of girl toys and not yet up to speed on the lingo. So I am doll ignorant. Sue me.
2. Jane did not seek comfort or react to pain. It was way in there and the doc used long tweezers and there was some bleeding by the end. If James had been in that situation, first, it would've taken three nurses to hold him down, and second, he would've been sobbing and begging for me to save him. Jane just sat there all by herself on the big examining table and didn't speak. I went over and held her hand and talked to her during it even though she didn't ask.
It was one of those starkly sad moments when I realize there are huge holes in her life experience, like, the whole entire concept of seeking maternal comfort.
But now I get to end on the wonderful again.
Jane needs to repeat things endlessly as she processes information. She likes to get a 1-2 line script and repeat it at least 20 times. Before we left the exam room I took her onto my lap and we had a little chat.
So, as we're exiting through the waiting room I'm holding the specimen jar with the shoe inside and she's trailing behind me and announcing in her most important voice, "We do NOT put shoes up our nose! No! That is NOT a SAFE way to play with toys!"
Every single person in that waiting room busted out laughing. Even the receptionist doubled over. And I got to be the mom with the cute little girl saying the cute things.
Not once during the whole event did I say foster. Cuz sometimes I want it to be just about the shoe in the nose and nothing more.
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