Happy Mother's Day, Granna

I am not my daughter's favorite person. 

I used to be, but when it comes to my oldest girl, her favorite person is MY mom, better known to her as "Granna." 

We were in PA last week and taking care of these two girls is a blessing but when it's just the hubby and I, it's often downright overwhelming. Camila is a year and a half and is brilliant but she knows it, so she's already becoming a bit rebellious. She despises naps although she desperately needs them. We also have about 70 million stairs in the house, a fact that didn't occur to me until I had a one-year-old who has only mastered the ability to climb UP but not down. In addition, Camila has started to become more and more aware that her little sister is here to stay, which sometimes brings out the green monster of jealousy in her. I love her more than life itself, but I admit that sometimes Camila can be a handful. She's a good girl and many times will entertain herself for ages by singing, playing with little toys, or (gasp!) watching television...but she IS a toddler- and toddlers are handfuls by nature. 

I am not exaggerating when I say that I couldn't do it without my parents. I am BEYOND blessed to have them right there with us in NY and I wish I could take them everywhere we go! My daughters see their grandmother and grandfather AKA "Granna" and "Tot-Tot" ( no idea how that came from "grandpa") almost daily. I try not to abuse the offer, but I know that if, at any point, I need to bring one or both girls to their grandparents so that I could shower, sleep, make a phone call, go shopping, or paint my grody toenails...it's never a problem with them. I honestly don't know how other moms do it without this kind of support. I guess when you have no choice, you survive, but dang. 

My parents came out to stay with us for a few days in PA during Spring Break and it was THE BEST. While college kids were in Acapulco partying themselves into a MTV-worthy stupor (WOOT! Spring Break!), we were putting in some serious BBQ hours over in the Poconos. ("WOOT!!! Grilled Corn!!!") I serious cried when they left even though I would see them again in NY in just a couple of days. Having them with us (in NY or PA or on the freaking moon) is the absolute best. They help out in ways I never even realized I needed. Our daughters are growing up with their grandparents right beside them and I couldn't be happier about their relationship. 

With that, though, comes its consequences. When she was much younger and I was breastfeeding her, I was Camila's favorite person. I was her source of comfort, life, and sustenance. I could bring a smile to her face like nobody else could. But I stopped breastfeeding at 8 months and that, combined with me going back to work, has put me into the position of second fiddle. It's understandable, I'm the meanie who has to put her to bed every night when she wants to stay up, who tries to force her to eat different kinds of food (and by "force", I mean put broccoli, carrots, oranges, or anything remotely healthy in front of her and watch as she throws them on the floor for me to clean up like her own personal trained maid-monkey. Toddlerhood is a blast), who changes her diaper when she isn't in the mood and starts to flail like a fish out of water while squealing like a cat (yeah...idk).  Plus, I'm ALWAYS THERE. It's not special to be around me, it's expected. 

But my mom...she's special. Going to Granna's is a treat. She makes everything fun. Even the stinky, cranky diaper changes are s blast with a song, a game, a tickle and a giggle. She sneaks chocolate or strawberry syrup into her milk (I know you do it, mom!) and always has Camila's favorite tv shows on standby. She's always cheery, has cookies and cheese at the ready to snack on, I mean, who WOULDN'T want to hang with her?

Sounds perfect, huh? Well yes, until I pick my daughter up from my mom's place and she cries and kicks and screams bloody murder because she'd rather be with my mom than with me. Carlos and I often have to trick her into coming with us by distracting her with a bottle and then grabbing her and running away to our apartment.  In the mornings when Camila wakes up cranky as all heck, I could do everything and anything to comfort her to no avail...a smile doesn't appear on her face until I bring her to grandma. They watch Wheel of Fortune together and shout out letters for the contestants to guess. They sing and dance to the oldies on the radio channel. Somehow even with Camila's limited toddler vocabulary, they have full-blown conversations about life, family, and the latest episode of Bubble Guppies. Basically, my mom is Camila's favorite...not me. 

I know that my mom feels guilty about this. She didn't PLAN on this happening. She tries to play it off, by saying things like "Camila loves her mommy, right Camila?" But I know the truth. 

And you know what?

I'm okay with it. In fact, I think it's wonderful. 

My daughter loves me, I don't doubt that. I'm her mom and that's a bond that nobody can break between us. A grandmother-granddaughter bond on the other hand, is much more rare. I loved all my grandparents dearly but I can't say I remember ever having the connection that my daughter has with my mom. They are absolutely best buddies, or "two peas in a pod" as my dad likes to say. I know very few people that ever had that connection with a grandparent. It's kind of the best thing ever. Getting to see my mom "in action" again is like going back in time and seeing how she was with me. And I learn so much from just observing them together. Like me, my mother was a teacher (recently retired-woohoo) but I don't think she realizes how much teaching she is still doing outside of the classroom. I watch as she teaches my daughter to say new words, sing songs, put things back where they belong and grasp the concept of "No" (although that one's a work in progress).  I'm finding my own way as a mother, but I can't deny that a lot of my actions are shaped by what I see my own mom doing with Camila. 

So it's okay that mom is my daughter's favorite, because you know what? She's kinda my favorite too ☺️

Out, Damned Spot!!!

I'm warning you now, this post is a little gross. I don't think it's THAT bad, but if you are at all squeamish, back away slowly. 

Don't say I didn't warn you.

I think I'm somewhat of a medical marvel because weird medical things happen to me. My left kidney was missing for a decade before it was finally found tucked in between an ovary and my uterus. Once I had this weird rash for a month that presented itself as circles all over my arms and legs. Not spots, CIRCLES. Like the letter O. I was convinced I had the most epic Lyme disease ever, but then it disappeared. I gave my sister a mean case of the chicken pox and nobody knew because I only had one pock. I like to think of myself as the Queen of Medical Mysteries. Okay, maybe not queen, but I'm at least a duchess. I figure I'm SOME kind of royalty. (Also, did you know "duchess" didn't have a t in it? I had to look it up, but I could've sworn it did.)

Anyway, about 5 years ago, I developed a spot on the tip of my tongue. It was large, white and painless. I just assumed it was a swollen tastebud, even though it didn't really hurt the way a tastebud often does. For the first year or so, I ignored it. You can kind of see it in this picture: 

I won't zoom in because, gross, but you can definitely spy it with your little eye. I eventually started to get suspicious about it, but life happens and it wasn't my main concern until two years ago when I had a root canal and the dentist was like "Um, what is that?" (FYI medical professionals: patients don't like to hear that!) I said I didn't know but that it's been there for years. She suggested I mention it to my regular dentist next time I go in (she was just doing the root canal). I'm sure you know what's coming next...

I consulted Dr. Google, because that's what people do. And let me tell you, looking up "strange growths on tongue" is NOT a pleasant experience. Just...don't.  Aside from grossing myself the eff out, naturally I started to convince myself I had tongue cancer. Nothing else seemed to fit my description (In retrospect, cancer didn't fit my description either but in my Worst-Case-Scenario mind, weird growths=cancer=death). 

I didn't have another dentist appointment for a while, though, so again it fell to the back burner for quite a while. My dentist finally looked at it this past summer and said he'd "never seen anything like that before" (again, medical professionals...WTF?) and that I should see their oral surgeon-which would cost me about $200 because the surgeon doesn't participate in my dental plan. I didn't make the appointment yet because I figured I would either find someone who DID take my dental plan or perhaps find an ear-nose-and-throat doc who takes my medical insurance. 

I looked online that day, didn't find anything, and forgot about it because, again, life and stuff. 

Don't get me wrong, I was still freaked out and feared something was terribly wrong, but I was busy with a one-year old and another on the way...and I was avoiding it. I think it was more laziness than fear, but it was definitely a combination of the two. 

Two days ago I went to the dentist again. It just so happened that for the first time, the dot was hurting me. It also looked a bit more swollen than usual. I mentioned it again, and he gave me the oral surgeon's info again- except this time, I made the appointment. It is set for April 18. I'll finally get an answer. 

Fast forward to today. An hour ago, I randomly went to a mirror to look at the dot...aaaaaand it was gone. It vanished. I have no idea if it fell off or just shrank or reabsorbed itself or what, but there is nothing there. No dot. I searched my whole tongue in case it, like, moved or something, but no. I don't know what to think. My appointment that I FINALLY made that is set for eight days from now will be cancelled. On a very good note, I'm assuming it's not cancer because I'm pretty sure cancerous tumors don't just fall off (although they SHOULD because cancer sucks).  It's the most bizarre thing. I mean, I'm happy my tongue looks normal again. I was always worried people would think it was a piece of food...nasty. 

I just...don't know. It's like it waited for me to make the appointment and then went "Sike!"  It's so bizarre. So, yeah. This is my life, folks. Glamorous, huh?

In related news, I still have to go to the dentist this Wednesday because the aforementioned root canal cap doesn't quite fit properly and it hurts when food gets in there. We'll see what craziness is in store for me next! Always an adventure.