Category: health

children, health, humor, mommyhood

Nice Try

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We have been hosting my sister-in-law’s family for the Thanksgiving holiday. She has two boys (B Squared) and they are seven and five. My boys adore them. They wish they could play with them every single day.

Today at Grandma’s we did a gift exchange with all the boy cousins. Even Lil’ Superman was there. We had to do the exchange now because B Squared are from way up north and won’t be here on Christmas. All the boys were in wrapping paper heaven as they clawed their way through gift after gift. It was a heaping mess of joy and a lot of fun to watch.

After the gifts were open I decided I needed to take little T.Puzzle home. He still was emitting large amounts of green snot and coughing up a storm. I knew he needed another good nap at home (me too because I have what he has of course). We took a reluctant Full Speed with us. He protested that he needed to stay with B Squared and Lil’ Superman. We thought he looked awfully tired and could use a break, too.

I had no intention of Full Speed taking a nap. I figured he would rest quietly like always and just have some down time. Lo and behold, he actually fell asleep! That is saying something. The last time Full Speed took a nap was several months ago. He didn’t even nap on his recent post-eye surgery days. That kid was TIRED.

Since more than half of my in-laws had hit the road this morning, my sister-in-law relocated to the now vacant rooms at Grandma’s house. Full Speed did not like this new scenario.

“When am I going to see B Squared again?” he asked with the puppy dog eyes. “The first night B Squared stayed at our house, the second night we all stayed at Grandma’s (except sick little T.Puzzle) and then we came back to stay at our house. I’m supposed to go to Grandma’s tonight or we will break the pattern (which he pronounces pattren).”

“No, Full Speed, not tonight. You need to get some rest, we will see B Squared and Lil’ Superman again tomorrow,” is my firm reply.

“If I go to Grandma’s I PROMISE I will be really good!” he protests. He is mustering every ounce of sincerely sad charm. His eyes are wide and hopeful.

“No, Full Speed.”

“If I have to stay home I’m going to be really bad then!” he replies.

Nice try, Full Speed. Nice try.

children, health, marital blissishness, mommyhood

Party Pooper

WFAM

It’s nearly impossible to surprise your significant other. That’s because your lives are so deeply entwined any time you veer off course their suspicions are raised. It took some planning and discretion but I think I managed to surprise Mad Dog with a cake for his birthday at his family’s Thanksgiving feast. I also made sure that his parents’ house was sufficiently supplied with Ben and Jerry’s ice cream (cookie dough is Mad Dog’s absolute addiction).

The end result was awesome (it even had a picture of the boys on it riding a motorcycle taken at our recent portrait sitting). The cake turned out better than I hoped and was quite tasty. It was red cake with cream cheese frosting which is also a Mad Dog fave. My end goal wasn’t necessarily a delicious treat; it was to demonstrate how much I love Mad Dog. He does so much to care for our little family; I wanted to do something special for him.

After the cake, and let me tell you, it was weird slicing through the picture of my boys’ faces, all the boy cousins set forth in wild play. However, it was obvious little T.Puzzle was not feeling great. The sniffle and sneeze he’s been fighting developed into a full-blown fever topped off with green snot. Additionally, as the evening was winding down, he had an explosive poop which required a shower and a changing of the clothes for him (he was NOT happy).

Well, you know how the saying goes; it’s not really a party until someone has a messy, explosive poop, right?

children, health, marital blissishness, parenting

Vomitville: Part Two (It Was Only A Matter Of Time)

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pb153480After some stalling and uncertainty, the decision was made. Even though it wasn’t an early start which would have been ideal, we are headed to the Jacksonville Zoo and Gardens. Before we leave T.Puzzle gets a hold of his sippy cup from the diaper bag. He insists he is thirsty and manages to splash water down the side of the bag (you’ll need this information as it relates to later in the story).

We are in the convertible headed to the gas station. Mad Dog needs an energy drink (if you had a Full Speed and a T.Puzzle, you’d need one, too). It’s a short drive, less than a mile and the entire time, T.Puzzle is coughing and hacking. I think nothing of it as his allergies have been acting up and we are in the open air. As we park and Mad Dog exits to go to the convenience store, the hacking worsens. I undo my seatbelt, turn around and am going to try to get T.Puzzle to drink some water to hopefully ease his discomfort.

Instead I turn around just about the time he lets loose a long, cascade of multi-colored vomit. I’m helpless. I determine the best course of action is to let the seemingly endless vomit run its course and then clean-up after. The good news is, it isn’t projectile so it sort of pools on him and in his car seat sparing most of the convertible’s interior. Mad Dog approaches and I tell him, “Grab the diaper bag and find me a baggie!”

Now, as any Mom knows, you can’t be mad at your poor, pukey child so the frustration you feel rising has to go somewhere. That somewhere is usually your spouse.

Mad Dog grabs the diaper bag and I just knew, I KNEW, he wasn’t going to be able to find a baggie. On his first attempt, he makes a face and says, “T.Puzzle got vomit all over the bag!” He face twists in distorted disgust and I lose it.

“No, he didn’t, the vomit is contained to this side of the car. That is WATER from his sippy cup!” I shout. I can’t believe he is freaking out over imaginary vomit when I am up to my armpits in the real thing. AND, I still have no baggie to start putting the mountain of wipes I’m accumulating in my frantic attempts to clean up little T.Puzzle.

Eventually, after what seemed like days, Mad Dog finds a baggie, I have T.Puzzle mostly cleaned and we head home to do a T.Puzzle strip down and major clean-up. The pics I have in the post today are literally FIFTEEN minutes after his endless vomit. If only we all could recover from life so quickly.

pb153479

children, health, mommyhood

Vomitville (disclaimer: not for the weak of stomach)

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Mad Dog and I were scheduled to view the proofs from our photo session at the studio. The stars had sort of aligned because our babysitter was available and the appointment was late enough in the evening that Mad Dog could easily make it. My day was busy leading up to it. I even managed to get my self showered and prettied before I took the boys to Tae Kwon Do. The boys had a good class. T.Puzzle earned his belt back (long story, check out my previous post ‘Mother of the Year’ for more details) and Full Speed was in good form. After class I headed through the drive-thru and even successfully got my babysitter something to eat, too. I get home, get the boys out of their uniforms because food and white uniforms are a superbad combination, and get them settled in to eat.

Full Speed is becoming difficult. He does this sometimes when I order him chicken nuggets because he prefers cheeseburgers (sorry, Full Speed, Chick-Fil-A only has chicken so you get what you get). He immediately drops into negotiation mode. I’m still trying to get my house organized, laundry done, dishes cleared, etc., that I’m not really in the mood to listen to him. At about five minutes before the babysitter arrives he jumps up from the table and says his chicken nuggets are ‘choking him’. Personally, it takes a lot of restraint on my part not to ‘choke him’ instead. I think it’s all an elaborate act to get out of eating the nuggets. I was wrong. I was doggone, puky wrong.

He starts to cry and in an instant I can sense we are on the express train to vomitville. I realize it too late. Our home is lovely with a nice, open floor layout. This is nice so I can always keep on eye on the boys In terms of puke containment, it spells disaster. He starts the vomit in the kitchen nook, trails it over by the computer into the family room. I do my best to maneuver him to the bathroom which just leads to a trail of vomit down our hall and into the bathroom (which he showers down in slime as well).

Of course, my Mommy instinct kicks in and I become oblivious to the grossness. Thankfully (and I bless the heavens for this) my babysitter arrives just at that moment. I let her in, brief her on the situation and she bravely takes the boys upstairs to bathe them while I set to clean and sanitize the likes of my entire first floor. Of course I do this all in a cute, dressy top and black pants (vomit mess waits for no one).

vomitvilleWhen all is said and done and our home smells like a freshly disinfected hospital room, I send the babysitter home (this is right about when Mad Dog arrives into the chaos), cancel our appointment at the studio and collapse on the couch in our front room. I quickly realize my cute outfit smells anything but. Mad Dog sends me upstairs to shower and change. As I write this I’m still traumatized by the level of mess that Full Speed achieved. I may never be able to look at a chicken nugget again without breaking into a cold, cold sweat.

health, self care (or lack thereof)

Ocean Drive

WFAM

p2142575So, at five-thirty this a.m. I find myself awakened to a swollen throat. The right side of my neck is throbbing and my right ear is aching like a son of a gun. I realize with dread that this is the day I have to seek medical attention.

First, Full Speed is off to school and then secondly, I have to stop for my allergy shots (I’m so close to maintenance shots which means less future trips to the allergist that I cannot skip). From there I will head to the Minute Clinic at CVS pharmacy. Of course T.Puzzle must accompany me on both of these glorious outings (let the record reflect my sarcasm).

The allergy shots went fine if you think getting poked with a sharp needle three times is fine (which I do not). I think T.Puzzle may have overdosed on Cheerios and Goldfish (the crackers, not the actual fish in the office aquarium) while we waited. I didn’t mind because he was quietly content.

I called Mad Dog and asked him to get directions to the Minute Clinic from the allergy office and text them to me. He did and I sent him a quick text of ‘thanks’.

I think I am delirious. I didn’t trust the directions and felt I knew what I was doing. I went the wrong way for a long, long time. I pull over because I am sensing we are getting close to the ocean which isn’t good unless of course you want to go to the ocean (which I do not). I call Mad Dog and he tells me immediately where I made my mistake and how to correct it. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve been sick all week or if I am fed up that I’ve been sick all week, but I didn’t handle this suggested course correction well. Okay, I flippin’ lose it. Don’t worry, Mad Dog has heard worse from me but it doesn’t make it right. We end our conversation and tears are streaming down my frustrated face.

I turn around and I finally stumble upon the Clinic. T.Puzzle and I enter and then wait to check-in at the kiosk. I kid you not; the man in front of us took FOREVER to sign in. I don’t know what he was doing but it took an enormous amount of willpower not to yank the touch-screen stylus from his hand and enter his information for him (as a side note, it took me less than two minutes to sign in and I was holding a squirming, thirty-five pound, two year old).

We wait our turn and I bring out the DVD player for T.Puzzle. That is something I rarely do. Believe me I have weathered enough outings, doctor’s appointments, ophthalmology visits without resorting to digital entertainment for my kids. Today is the exception because I feel like crap. The woman next to me makes some snotty comment about ‘kids today’ and how they need computerized stuff to be entertained and that they don’t know how to exist without it. I felt too crappy to argue but it really cheesed me off.

To add insult to injury when I finally see the nurse practitioner she says there isn’t a darn thing she can do to alleviate my misery. Basically, I had a nasty virus and my body is fighting it off the best it can, hence the enormous, painful swelling of my glands in my neck. The swelling is what is making my throat hurt and probably causing the earache, too.

I realize I should be thankful that it hasn’t manifested into a nasty bacterial infection in my sinuses, ears or throat (which is what normally happens). However, I was hoping for something, anything to make me feel better. Only time can heal all wounds and apparently viruses, too.