She rides, I pay » Parenting

Colic Surgery For The Girl

Elizabeth — Fri, 03 Jun 2011 19:56:57 +0000

Back where we belong. Photo by John Oren.

I’ve been missing. There’s a story behind it. Here it is.

When you are responsible for the care of someone else, be they canine, equine or human, there are times when you inevitably fail them. If you are critical in your self-assessment of this care, you no doubt can find fault frequently.

I pulled a doozy recently when I misdiagnosed Samantha’s virus. Umm, it was appendicitis. She had an emergency appendectomy on Thursday, April 21. In my defense, when she seemed to be suffering from her second bout of the fever/upset stomach bug that was making its rounds, I did call the pediatrician’s office. The nurse told me that the current virus running through the area was particularly virulent and was striking quite a few kids more than once. She did say that I was more than welcome to bring Samantha in to be checked out. Alas, not wanting to be that mom (again) who dragged her kid to the pediatrician only to be told, “It’s a virus,” I decided to just wait it out.

Samantha spent the first two days of her school vacation week on the couch, which should have been my first clue that something was truly amiss. As we know, when this kid doesn’t go to the barn, there is something not right in the world.

On Wednesday she rallied and did ride, but she was incredibly pale. Thursday I was home with her and after a very short period of morning activity she laid in a chair and cried, saying that she had a sharp pain in her belly. That did it. Light finally dawned on marble-mom head. Off to the doctor we went, with the boy in tow.

Samantha’s doctor is a wonderful woman, kind and reassuring. So much so that when she shared her suspicion it took me a minute to catch up. In her friendly, sing-songy voice she stated, “Yeah, I think what I’m going to do is have you run her up to the hospital and have an ultrasound so that we can rule out appendicitis.”

Come again? Excuse me? Say what? I was finally able to say, “Oh, OK, would you please call ahead to let them know that we’re coming? Thank you, so very much.” What I was thinking was: “&^%%*^%@!” “Doh!” “Of course it’s appendicitis.” “&*^^&%”

Luckily, Samantha really didn’t have much of a clue what that meant. My next challenge was retrieving the boy from the waiting room and telling him. Why would this be a concern? Here’s why:

Me: “OK, Ethan, Samantha needs a test, and they don’t have the special machine to do the test here, so we’re going to have it done up at the hospital.”

The boy: “IS SHE GOING TO DIE? MOM, IS SHE GOING TO DIE?”

Yes, now everyone in the waiting room is staring at us. Oh, joy. As I gritted out, “No, Ethan your sister is not going to die,” we left the doctor’s office.

Let’s just say that the day got worse. Luckily, a friend was able to come get the boy, who spent the rest of the afternoon practicing with the St. Michael’s College lacrosse team. It doesn’t matter to him that he’s only 10; clearly they need him.

Poor Samantha. Through the tears, the painful waiting, two days in the hospital and a week on the couch her only concern was getting better in time for her first horse show. I did not go on a business trip to Chicago and Grand Rapids, Mich. I also spent a week near the couch, getting my little pumpkin (who is now officially taller than me) whatever she wanted.

Our first horse show was at GMHA in Woodstock, Vt., on May 21, and this was also supposed to be Samantha’s first three-foot horse show. No pressure! We talked about it, and I told her that if she did nothing but hack around the show grounds that would be great, and I would be happy and proud of her. Do the warm-ups if you feel up to it. Try one round of hunters. Don’t put any pressure on yourself. You had surgery one month ago.

In theory, she was with me. But once we got to the show, it was game on. She had a good warm-up day on Friday and decided to “try” the 12-14 equitation division on Saturday. Her flat class was, OK, it was a disaster. Mondavi thought it was a race, not a class, and while Samantha did a great job controlling him, there was no ribbon for that achievement. She made up for it by winning her first over fences class with a beautiful trip and placing third in the second over fences class, becoming reserve champion in the division. Her first-ever attempt in the NEHC medal was flawless (mom’s opinion), and she placed fourth out of 15 very competitive riders.

Sunday wasn’t quite as stellar—she was tired, and it showed. There were a few threes in the two-stride that made Samantha’s blood boil. I giggled—but only when she couldn’t see me. She had already accomplished so much there was no way to disappoint. We had a two-hour ride home for me to convince her of that, regardless of how she felt about her trips on Sunday.

I remained, as always, grateful that she talked the whole way home. She accomplished what she set out to do—she did not miss the first horse show of the season—the one we waited so long for. And now, we have a whole season in front of us.

Wishing you all a healthy and happy show season. Here we go!

This article was first published on The Chronicle of the Horse website.

I am afraid of third grade

Elizabeth — Fri, 26 Mar 2010 20:39:25 +0000

This week, as part of my mom duties, I went to the elementary school and spent an hour in the boy’s class “helping.” The husband and I (that is a lie, this was my idea and the husband was happy to go along) decided to try this so we can better understand the math program. Third grade math is completely beyond me. I figured that time in the classroom might help make homework time less like an episode of “The Sopranos,” with the boy and the dad screaming obscenities at each other, while the dog and I hide downstairs under a desk. The girl is at the barn, oblivious.

Go to the classroom, hang out with the kids, it’s only an hour, no biggie, right? Well, for some reason, that one hour goes by slower than the Bataan Death March. Time stops. I look at the clock 314 times in 10 minutes. This week, I finally figured out why. I am afraid of third grade.

As my assigned hour approaches, I start getting nervous. I wait as long as possible to leave the house and strategically park the car as far away from the school as possible (that way I’ll get in some extra walking, 10,000 steps a day and all).

My first panicked moment comes when I can’t figure out how to enter the building, one I have visited hundreds of times in the last 12 years. You can open the front door, but are then locked into the space between the two sets of doors (is there a word for that space?). There are three glass doors in front of me, all locked. The third door has a button to press, but also a disabled sign. So, do I only press that button if I am disabled? There’s also a window in to the office, so that the entire office staff can plainly see me as I work feverishly to figure out how to get in the building. Keep reading at The Chronicle….

Horse Show Mom Hits “The Wall”

Elizabeth — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 17:59:06 +0000

It was a busy weekend, and in the midst of it, I hit “the wall.” It wasn’t pretty, but I hope you will at least find it entertaining.

Click here to see today’s post on The Chronicle of the Horse.

Horse Show Schedule Released, Panic Ensues…

Elizabeth — Tue, 26 Jan 2010 15:14:02 +0000

My latest post is up on Chronicle of the Horse. We were delighted to hear that the tentative Vermont Hunter Jumper Association (VHJA) show schedule for 2010 was announced yesterday. The girl quickly absconded with the computer to begin secretly contemplating her coming show season. I’m not really feeling the love. Also, check out the hee-lar-ious comments

Summer days, horse shows, coming soon....

posted by fellow COTHers.

Horse Shows vs. Hockey Tournaments

Elizabeth — Tue, 12 Jan 2010 15:49:51 +0000

Back from a weekend in Cowansville, Quebec for a hockey tournament. My musings on the differences between horse shows and hockey tournaments are up today on the Chronicle of the Horse.

What do you give the child who has already cost you $12,000 this year?

Elizabeth — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 12:35:21 +0000

As I try to finish my Christmas shopping, my inner Grinch is raising its ugly head. And this green eyed monster is asking me one question: Why?

Why are you stressing about buying gifts for the child who has a pony? But yet I am consumed with thoughts such as: do I have enough? Will she notice that her brother has more gifts in his pile? Will that upset her? What else can I get her that won’t cost too much? Why is there no more room on my credit card?

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

As far as I’m concerned, the fact that she has a pony should absolve me from any parental gift-giving for the rest of her and my natural life.

So here’s what I am reminding myself, in an attempt to be my own therapist:

The girl is very appreciate. Otherwise she wouldn’t have said pony.

Our “gifts” to the girl this year have already included:

$6,000 in room and board for a Connemara pony that has a better view of Vermont’s Green Mountains from her stall and paddock than I do in my own home.

$1,500 in lessons.

At least $1,000 in farrier and vet bills.

M ore than $3,000 spent on horse shows.

And I’m guessing a few random thousand here and there on horse related items that I have chosen to forget.

Not to mention the free room and board, pony boot camp and trailering provided by Auntie Kathleen in New Jersey over the summer.

I feel like I should close with a thanks to my own parents, who suffered these same indignities with not one, but two daughters.

Happy Holidays!

Tutu update….

Elizabeth — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 10:16:07 +0000

Pony Princess

Yesterday’s post was about the upcoming barn Halloween party. Well, I posted my dilemma on the Chronicle of the Horse (COTH) forum and that group DELIVERED. Along with some genuinely great ideas, I also received some HILARIOUS photos and links. Some “posters” were just tickled by my little “dilemma.” Hardy har har.

One poster told me about this website which is devoted to Horse and Rider costumes. Pictures only, they are not selling costumes. Great site.

Of course, now the girl wants me to make a hat like this for Dara. Honey, one reminder, YOUR MOTHER IS NOT CRAFTY.

Here was some of the great tutu advice:

“Do you have a crafty friend that could sew one together for you? I bet it wouldn’t be that hard…. You might even be able to put one together with fabric glue and velcro. You could do the tutu around her neck, or you could stick some sort of princess-y skirt fabric to the back of the saddle and just let it drape over her haunches (this could be tulle but satin might be nicer around her flanks, or whatever, as long as it’s girly colored like pink). Then glitter her hooves, braid her main and put ribbons in it (maybe dye it pink if it’s light), and you’re good to go.”

“We took took the fabric (crinoline?) and just hand stitched it onto a polo wrap and velcroed the polo wrap around her stomach area right behind the saddle.”

“I don’t know why I’m responding, because I’m not really crafty at all . . . but . .., could you get a quarter sheet and get a lot of princessy fabric on ebay and then hot glue gun the fabric to the quarter sheet, so it fell over the back of the pony, making the pony more princess like? And then braid sparkly things (long ribbons?) in her mane? (Can you tell I have three boys and built-up princess demand is clamoring to get out??!).”

The next comment came from the very cool people at SpecialHorses.org :

“This is how we make them for the kids for photoshoots. Buy a gizzillion yards of various colors of fine netting tulle from the craft store. For a horse….prolly 20-25 yards. You’ll need some heavy elastic and some velcro too. Find a piece of board or the lid off a large rectangular storage tote and wrap the tulle around the wood/lid the long way. Then snip through the fabric at the bottom. You should have piles of pieces of tulle in lengths of about 3-4ft. Now comes the super easy part. Measure your elastic around your horse and cut it to fit. Now start grabbing lengths of tulle and just tie them in a knot around the length of elastic. Keep going until your elastic is covered. Knot your ends and sew on some velcro. TADA! One giant huge tutu!”

In the not-so-helpful-category, I received these replies:

“I want a pony.”

“I can’t help you, but your subject line gave me a much-needed belly laugh. If you need an Elvis costume for her, THAT I can do.”

Ah, Dara as Elvis? No thanks. Maybe Stormy could be Elvis.

“My Palomino wanted to be a giraffe. Then a goldfish. Now he wants to be balloon boy.”

Thanks to everyone who replied. I’ll keep you updated regarding my progress.

Help! I need a tutu for a 14.2 Connemara

Elizabeth — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 11:12:21 +0000

I hate Halloween. This year, there’s an added twist to the misery. We’re having a Halloween party at the barn. Party=good. Halloween party= nightmare! Now not only do we have to go through the drama of putting together costumes for a 12-year-old girl and a 9-year-old boy, but I also have to help figure out how to make a costume for a 15-year-old-Connemara. She wants to be a princess. Well, that’s what she told my daughter, apparently.

Now I know our friends in the Arabian and Western world have more experience with horse costumes that the HJ’s. So, I’m putting it out there, I need help.

I’ve found a few web sites that sell dog and horse costumes, but the horse costumes are mostly just unicorn attachments for the halter or bridle.

Help me, please.