Tuesday, March 9, 2010

The never-ending ear infection

I took Emmie in for her two-week ear recheck today only to find she has another ear infection. Or maybe the same one from two weeks ago that never fully went away. We'll never know.

What I do know is that the day after she finished her big-gun antibiotic (Omnicef) she started dripping snot all over the place, coughing up a lung and woke up multiple times per night.

Now she's on the Z-pack. Thanks to her delightful penicillin allergy, she's a little limited on the drug choices. If the new meds can't kick it, then it looks like tubes for Miss Em.

She probably didn't get rid of the infection on purpose because she knew more visits to the doctor meant more crack Dora stickers. She started happily screaming "Ticker! Dorda! Dorda ticker!" as we walked into the office. She even willingly ran into the exam room and sat on the table like a big girl.

Perhaps I should invest in a sleeve of these stickers for home use. I could have her loading the dishwasher and taking out the garbage in no time.

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Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Fevered pitch

This is what a 104.1 degree temperature, coupled with a double ear infection and strep looks like.



Poor Emmie. She started acting like a lunatic on Friday afternoon. We stopped at the park after school and because she didn't have her snowpants, I told her she could only go in the swing. After about three minutes, she started protesting that she wanted out and I told her if she got out, she would go straight in the stroller and we'd have to head home.

She still wanted out, so homeward bound we were. With Emmie screaming her fool head off the entire way. She screamed the two blocks home, all the way into the house and for a solid 15 minutes after we walked in the door. I was all "What is your deal? Knock it off." I even went so far as to walk away and tell her to let me know when she was done.

Eventually she calmed down and I forgot about it. The next day, Saturday, she went swimming and to Jack's soccer class and acted fine. After Josh got her up from her nap, she was red-cheeked and clingy. I touched her neck and it was hot hot hot.

A temperature check revealed she was at a solid 103.3 degrees. Awesome. Motrin and some extra love seemed to help, but after multiple nightwakings, I suspected an ear infection. When she was a cool 104.1 the next morning, I called for an appointment. Hooray for seven-day-a-week pediatricians.

He confirmed mom's diagnosis of an ear infection -- times two -- and added that she had strep. Well isn't that just dandy? I remarked that it should be no time at all before Maeve had it, but our doctor said it's incredibly rare for babies less than a year old to contract strep. Small favors, I guess.

After a few days of antibiotics, she is almost back to normal. That means she's still screaming and crying over little things and sticking her germy face and fingers up in Maeve's grill all day.

I'm sure she'll be fine just in time for Jack to come down with it. Or me. Please God, don't let it be me.

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Friday, January 22, 2010

Puke-tastic, part the second

At midnight last night, Josh woke me up with the dreaded words, "Jack's throwing up."

Four days after we dealt with Emmie's chunk-blowing, we had the pleasure of repeating it with Jack. Unfortunately for us, instead of puking on the rug, he puked all over his bed. The sheets, the comforter, his little blanket, his lovey, his carpet, his jammies, everything. Why yes, he did have pizza for dinner, thanks for asking.

Josh took the poor traumatized child into the bathroom while I got to work stripping the bed. Gagging repeatedly, I managed to get the job done while Jack was puking again in the bathroom sink.

I ran a load of laundry and sprayed the rug down with the Nature's Miracle I bought earlier in the week after the Emmie debacle. Nobody paid me to say this, but if you are a parent, you should always have a bottle of this on hand. It seriously takes the smell out immediately. I laid down a plastic tarp and a sheet on the couch and went back to bed, leaving Josh to spend the night with the puker on the couch downstairs. Seeing as I would have to feed the baby, Josh drew sick duty.

Good thing we didn't send him back to bed because he puked twice more before finally falling back asleep at 3:30 a.m. But of course, he was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 6:30 this morning.

I stumbled back downstairs at 8:30, relieving Josh of kid duty so he could get some decent sleep in our bed. As we passed on the stairs, I told him I was thanking my lucky stars this didn't happen next Monday. You know, when I am alone with all three kids for four straight days. I shudder to think what I would have done if I had to clean up, get Jack settled, stay with him on the couch and still feed Maeve multiple times overnight and get Emmie up for the day. Single parents -- you have my complete and total respect.

Because Jack was so sick, we kept him home from school, but we still had the conference with his teachers. I am digesting all the info and trying to figure out what to say about it all. So I'm sorry, but I will have to take the weekend for that. Suffice it to say we're not raising a sociopath, but he definitely needs to work on his impulse control. As do I, seeing as I stress-ate several more cookies than should be legally allowed prior to the meeting.

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Monday, January 18, 2010

Puke-tastic

Last year, the day before her birthday, Emmie woke up from her nap covered in puke. That was really awesome. Today, almost exactly a year later, she puked her shit again, this time all over the living room area rug.

If you've never tried to clean a seven-year-old Ikea rug with a Hoover carpet cleaner, well then you've never lived. Not only does my entire house now smell like puke, it smells like wet puke. You're welcome if you just threw up in your mouth.

I was still sleeping, but word on the street from Grandpa was that one minute she was playing nicely and the next, she was yakking all over herself and the rug while Jack stood by yelling, "Emmie is growing up! Emmie is growing up!" Later we corrected him, you know, when we weren't cleaning chunks out of the rug.

My mom woke me up with the news and I came downstairs to find Emmie running around as if nothing ever happened, the rug covered in towels and Jack immersed in a play-by-play of the events of the morning.

Again, Grandpa was a trooper. The man had never changed a diaper until this year, despite having raised two daughters of his own, but this is the second time he has cleaned up after a puking grandchild. The man deserves a medal for this performance, seriously.

Emmie seemed herself most of the day, but we didn't let her eat anything except a few pretzels and a small container of applesauce. She refused to drink any Pedialyte or apple juice and since we wouldn't let her have her beloved milk, she settled begrudgingly for small amounts of water. By dinner time, she had regained her appetite and wolfed down some turkey, a bite of toast, 1.5 cereal bars and two oatmeal raisin cookies.

The most amusing part of the entire day, however, came when she accidentally slammed her fingers in the cabinet door. She was screaming bloody murder and Jack ran up the stairs and yelled in the most excited voice I have ever heard him muster, "Is Emmie throwing up again?!" Apparently, her vomiting made quite the impression on him.

When I asked him before bed tonight what his favorite part of the day was, he didn't even hesitate.

"When Emmie got sick!" he said. Perhaps we won't need to save any money for medical school, seeing as his bedside manner leaves something to be desired.

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Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Mmmm, bacon

After yesterday's exciting events (see: treatment for swine flu) I took the Tamiflu my OB prescribed, ate some chicken soup and went to bed where I slept peacefully for 11 hours.

I woke up not feeling like I was hit by a truck, which was a lovely change of pace, and spent the day convalescing in bed. It was kind of like being home sick from school -- I hung out watching daytime television, eating soup and relaxing -- except I had the Internet to amuse me. It's a good thing Twitter and Facebook didn't exist when I was home sick in fourth grade because I would have claimed mono and tried to stay home for the entire school year.

Surprisingly, the Tamiflu really helped. I don't feel like I am going to die at any moment and the aches and fever are a thing of the past. Now the cough? That stuck around. And the stuffy nose is still going like the Energizer bunny. But for the most part, I feel human.

Emmie was dispatched to Grandma's house until I am no longer oinking and I have been trying to keep my distance from Jack as much as possible. He's been OK about it, and even knows I am not supposed to be touching anything or anyone. I picked up a bowl in the kitchen tonight and he looked alarmed. "Mommy, does that have germs on it now?" he asked with concern. Poor kid, I am going to make him a germaphobe in no time.

Josh has picked up the slack and thankfully he can work from home some of the time, so he's been able to pitch in when needed. I pulled myself together enough to pick Jack up from school, but cautioned everyone to stay 15 feet away from me as I shrouded myself in a cloud of sanitizer.

In closing, let me give this public service announcement: if you are pregnant, get the H1N1 vaccine. Trust me, you don't want to feel like this when you are pregnant. If you have kids, get them the H1N1 vaccine. Trust me, you definitely don't want your kids to feel like this. Especially not kids who can't even tell you how miserable they feel because they can't talk. I know people come down on both sides and there are strong arguments for vaccinating and not vaccinating, but as someone who has experienced it, it's not fun and I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

Well, not knowingly wish it. Unfortunately for all the shoppers at Whole Foods and Trader Joe's yesterday, as well as my friend I had breakfast with and all the people around us, I unknowingly infected you with my pestilence. Although that's probably how I picked it up in the first place, so what goes around, comes around, I guess.

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Monday, November 2, 2009

On second thought...

Right after I published that last post, I am pretty sure I was hit by a truck. Aches, chills, fever -- you know, the three symptoms I didn't have that convinced me I didn't have H1N1.

The nurse at my OB's office says based on symptoms and because I am pregnant, they are prescribing Tamiflu and treating me for swine flu.

Oink, oink.

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Shutting my yap

Two weeks ago, I was spouting off to Josh about how the extra Vitamin D that I have been taking must be working its magic on my immune system because the kids were sick three times in the last six weeks and I, chief nose-wiper and coughed-upon caretaker, didn't get even a sniffle.

And then the weekend arrived and I ate my words and then some. It started with a little cough Friday night, nothing major. By Saturday morning, I was hacking up and lung. Sunday, I started with the congested nose.

This morning I woke up at 4:15 a.m. with a headache so severe, my back molars hurt. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't stop coughing and I was convinced I was going to die. Perhaps a bit melodramatic (who, me?) but definitely a valid thought considering the time of day and the fact I am nine months pregnant and can't take anything stronger than Tylenol.

I tossed and turned and might have woken Josh up just to tell him how bad I was feeling. He mumbled something about that being too bad from his side of the bed and continued on with his snot-free, phlegm-free rest. When Jack woke up at 4:30 (why yes, we DO love daylight savings time changes around here, thanks for asking) I figured I might as well be the one who helped him to the bathroom seeing as I was already up.

Upon returning to bed, I started mentally tallying all my symptoms with that of the H1N1. Considering I have only had the vaccine in my system for 10 days, I probably don't have the proper levels of immunity built up. But I didn't feel like I had been run over by a truck, I just felt as if I had a bad cold. Perhaps a touch of bronchitis. Or pneumonia. Or the plague. But not the flu.

So I soldiered on with my day, getting up and showered and getting Jack ready for school. I dropped him off and had breakfast with a friend before hitting two grocery stores. Supermom for the win!

This in no way precludes me from claiming illness when Josh gets home from work, however, and making him do the dinner/bath/bedtime routine while I hide out in our bedroom in a haze of vaporizer mist and the smell of Vicks rub emanating from my person.

I sacrificed my naptime so I could get some work done, and now I am thinking that was a horrid idea. I'm sure Jack will totally be up for a game of "Let's rest our eyes and be quiet on the couch" when he gets home from school. That's one of his favorites. Right after "Beat on your sister" and "Throw your trains across the room when they derail off the tracks."

If I'm still alive tomorrow, I will regale you with photos and pictures from Trick or Treat. If I'm dead, Josh will take over my blog and alert the proper authorities. If that is the case, I can only hope he lives up to my blogging standards and brings the funny.

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Thursday, October 22, 2009

In sickness and in health

Most people associate the phrase "in sickness and in health" with marriage vows, but I assure you, it is much more applicable to your relationship with your children. If your spouse gets sick, well that blows, but it doesn't suck the soul out of your heart and cause sleep deprivation the likes of which has only been used as a torture device by the CIA.

When your spouse gets sick, you feel kind of bad and then get really scared you're going to get it next and then finally are just all kinds of annoyed because HELLO, it's a sore throat, deal. But when your young children get sick, they neeeeeed you. In the middle of the night. Multiple times. And when both your children get sick at the same time? You might as well just camp out in the hallway because you're not getting any sleep in your own bed, that's for sure.

Last night Jack went to sleep at his normal time with a bit of a cough. He quieted down pretty quickly, so I figured he would be fine. Emmie went to bed at her normal time with nothing but a few sneezing fits throughout the day. Emmie sneezing repeatedly can only mean one thing and it's that she's getting sick. I tried to pretend it was just construction dust and ignored it. She awoke screaming at the top of her lungs at 8:40 p.m. For a kid who has been sleeping through the night for almost a year now, that was not a welcome deviation from the norm.

She didn't have a fever, but she was covered in snot and generally unhappy about life. We dosed her up with Motrin and Josh rocked her for a few minutes. She protested when he put her back in her crib, but she was conked out in a few minutes.

Predicting doom to Josh, I should have gone to bed right then. But I didn't. I stayed up voting for myself in the "Best Mommy Blog" contest and painting baseboards for the new bedroom. Josh shooed me to bed at 11 p.m. and the next thing I knew, I was awoken by a cat coughing up a hairball three rooms away.

Except we don't have cats anymore. I struggled to place the sound coming out of the monitor and realized it was Jack, hacking up a lung. This continued for several minutes, so I got up and got him some water to see if that would help. The time read 1:37 a.m. on my clock. Awesome. Jack, surprisingly, wasn't woken by his lungs exiting his body. So I woke him up to give him some water and Motrin and he promptly went back to sleep. And back to coughing.

He coughed non-stop for the next four hours. He coughed until he woke up for the day at 4:40 a.m. Who voluntarily gets up before 5 a.m.? How is this child even related to me? And more importantly, what did I ever do to deserve this sleep deprivation? Because when Jack wakes up at 4:40 a.m., so does Mommy.

In the meantime, Sleeping Beauty (aka Josh) hadn't missed a single wink and was snoring on his side of the bed, buried under the covers. I have never been more annoyed by him as much as I was at that moment. Here I was working on about two hours of sleep, all stolen in 15-minute increments when Jack's coughing slowed down, and now I was going to be awake for the day at 4:45 a.m.

Emmie wanted to get the band back together, so she joined the fun at 5:15 a.m. when I first heard her playing with the crib soother. I bit my own lip to stifle the scream coming out of my mouth and turned the monitors down a bit. Josh thinks I keep them at "jet-engine level" anyway, so turning them down just made the yelling quieter, it didn't silence it completely.

I laid there listening to the singing/coughing from Jack and the whining/lullabye music from Emmie for a little while and when Emmie went from whining to screaming at 6 a.m., I snapped.

"JOSH," I hissed. "I can't. I just can't. I know you have to work but you have to get up with them. I haven't slept all night. Literally, all night. I am pregnant. I am exhausted. I. Can't. Do. It."

He asked me what I wanted him to do and I cried in exasperation that I didn't care and I just wanted to sleep for an hour. Sixty measly minutes. I grabbed a pillow, stuffed it over my head, and found a comfortable position for my fat, pregnant ass. I don't know what he did or how he did it, but I woke up an hour later when he brought a happy Emmie in to our bedroom, joyfully yelling, "Momma! Momma!"

Jack didn't have a fever, so I sent him off to school. That's where he got this damn cough of doom anyway, so they could deal with it. I think the lack of sleep finally got to him, however, because he finally took a nap at school. I think his teacher almost fell over when she saw he really went to sleep, but he did. He came out to the car a little dazed, and cried that he wasn't feeling well, but perked up once we got home and he had a snack.

Emmie spent the day plowing through a box of Kleenex, clinging to me and generally acting like someone who will be seeing the doctor for an ear check in about two days if this keeps up. After he ultra-early wakeup, she took an awesome (insert eye-roll here) one-hour nap and woke up supremely cranky. Because she was sick, I let her have a cereal bar at each meal, therefor negating all the progress we have made in just saying no to cereal bars in the last two days. I am a sucker.

I spent the day wondering if it was naptime yet and trying to peel Emmie off my leg so I could use the bathroom alone. When I left her with my sister-in-law so I could run to Home Depot and pick Jack up from school, I think my ear drum ruptured from the screams she emitted. Thank goodness for my sister-in-law because thanks to her playing with the kids, I got to take a short power nap and woke up feeling slightly less like death was near.

I am guessing tonight is going to be much like last night and I am prepared to play the pregnancy card if I have to. Josh is working from home tomorrow and he is so doing the early-morning duty. My sanity depends on it.

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Monday, October 5, 2009

It's an honor to be nominated

There's this little blogging contest over at The Bump. SnarkyMommy.com is in the running for Best Stay-At-Home Mom Blog. I, being of a competitive nature, would like to win. And you can help!

If you wouldn't mind, I would so dearly appreciate some nominations. Don't feel obligated or anything. But it would be awesome. And I know it's a little annoying, but you have to register for their site to nominate. But it's not like they ask for your first-born, just a few standard questions.

You can click the image below, or go to http://pregnant.thebump.com/extras/mommy-blog-awards.aspx.



In the meantime, I'm over here just bathing myself in hand sanitizer because I am surrounded by a bunch of feverish, sickly children who clearly delight in spreading their pestilence to pregnant women. It's totally acceptable to keep them at arm's length, right? Even when they whine and cry and look at me with their little red eyes and rosy cheeks?

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Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Suckitude, Part the First

As usual yesterday morning, things were a little chaotic around the house. Josh was up and out before 7 a.m., Jack woke at the ass-crack of 5:45 a.m. (after waking me up TWICE to go potty during the night) and Emmie was screaming in her crib at 6:40 a.m.

Can't we ever just start the day on a nice relaxing note? Why isn't my life like a Folger's commercial where I am awakened by the smell of brewing coffee in my crisp, clean 1,000-thread-count sheets with a breeze gently blowing the curtains back to reveal a glorious sunrise? I mean I don't drink coffee, my sheets aren't exactly crisp, we can't sleep with the windows open because we live on a busy street and I hate light in the room when I am trying to sleep, but other than those minor details, I would love to wake up like that just once.

I dragged my tired ass through the getting ready-breakfastmaking-lunchmaking-getting kids dressed routine and noticed Emmie was a little whiny. But I don't have time for drama in the morning when we have three people who need to be out the door by 8:25 a.m. for the brisk walk to school.

As I picked out clothes for Jack, she followed me around his room screaming. I calmly peeled her off my leg as I headed for her bedroom. As we walked in, she backed away from me, looked up and puked all over the rug. Oh for God's sake. I don't have time to clean up puke on this tight schedule, much less figure out how to take a puking 20-month-old along to drop her brother off at school.

Just as I was staring at the rug and trying to calm Emmie down, keep her away from the puddle of vomit and answer eleventy billion questions from Jack about why Emmie threw up, Josh called to tell me he needed me to read him something from a Post-it in his office two floors away or he could not function at work. That would be when my head exploded and my brains scattered all over the walls of Emmie's room.

After depositing Emmie in her crib so I could clean the rug, I shooed Jack into his room to continue getting dressed and ran downstairs to get the Post-it note info. I ran back upstairs, phone to ear, where I got Emmie dressed and corralled both kids downstairs to put on shoes and get everyone and the Hummer-sized stroller outside. We were running only three minutes behind, a feat of epic proportions considering what I went through moments before.

Emmie and I went about the rest of our day, grocery shopping and making a trip to Target. I figured her being in a stoller and not a cart would contain her pestilence somewhat and I really didn't care about other people's feelings because I really needed some organic turkey, damn it, and I wasn't going without my new favorite lunch -- grilled turkey and cheese.

Just as I was sitting down and blogging about my day, Jack's school phone number appeared on the caller ID. Was this Jack's mom? He had an accident.

CLIFFHANGER!

(More on this tomorrow, right now, I need to head out to an event involving adult beverages and no children. Plus, everyone likes a two-part blog post, right?)

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Monday, April 27, 2009

She gives me fever

Emmie, Emmie, Emmie. She of the 104.4-degree temperature TWICE in the last 24 hours. This one, she's going to give me a heart attack.

Thursday she went for her 15-month checkup with a little runny nose. It morphed into a 101-degree temperature by Friday afternoon and she's been running a high fever almost continuously since Saturday. Last night at bedtime, it hit the 104s and again this afternoon after her nap.

She won't eat, but she's drinking milk like it's going out of style. I tried to give her some cold water and she took a huge gulp, then threw the cup at my head. Hard. I took that as a sign she wanted more milk. The poor thing is irritable, but also playing and interacting most of the time. The irritability might have something to do with her looking like a white trash toddler in her T-shirt and diaper. But we have to keep her cool, style be damned.

I did manage to clothe her properly for her repeat visit to the doctor this morning, however. While there, they deduced it's Just A Virus (that should be an official kid disease, like Measles and Chicken Pox). The treatment for Just A Virus is Motrin or Tylenol, fluids and alcohol. The alcohol being for the parents, who don't get any sleep and spend all day wiping noses and carrying weeping child around.

She did, however, test negative for the flu. I, of course, was convinced she had the Swine Flu. Because she's traveled to Mexico. And played with livestock. If she did have it, damn would that have made for an awesome blog post! I figured maybe it would be like birthing the first baby of the New Year -- we'd be famous and get lots of free stuff. I heard on the news that one of the kids who had it in New York went to the doctor with a 103-degree fever and I was all, "That's total bullshit. Emmie's is higher than that and no one thinks SHE has swine flu."

So in the meantime, we'll just be here tending to the not-Swine Flu and ducking flying water cups.

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Friday, March 27, 2009

Great timing for once

Jack has pooped on the potty for the last three days, which, holy hell it's about time. There has been great excitement around these parts as a result. He keeps reminding me "Mommy so happy!" every time we talk about it. So that is great progress.

I, however, have spent the last 24 hours within arms reach of a bathroom because I have contracted a pitiful stomach bug. I didn't feel well all day yesterday, but soldiered on because I was going to Dooce's book signing. And Josh was feeding the kids dinner AND doing bath and bedtime by himself. Which always makes me secretly happy because I have to do it alone three days a week and him doing it once a month is a little taste of what my life is like when he's gone.

Whoa, sorry for the "my life is not fair because my husband travels for work" sidebar there. Back on task.

My illness was so bad I had to leave twice during the book signing/reading. Ick. Borders bookstore bathrooms, however, not so ick. So that's good. Could have been a gas station bathroom, so I have that going for me. Which is nice.

But I spent literally all night getting up and walking the 10 feet to the bathroom and back. Multiple times. Then Jack woke up screaming because he had wet through his pajamas and then I was sick a few more times and on and on ad naseum throughout the day.

But after eating some chicken soup for lunch and chugging a lot of Gatorade, I was feeling a lot better. We had dinner plans at an Italian place in the neighborhood and I lost my damn mind and thought it would be a good idea to order fettuccini alfredo. Because a cream sauce -- that sounds nice and light. Definitely on the bland BRAT diet.

Jack had his favorite meal -- pizza -- and we thought nothing of it. Until it was time for bed and he told us he had to poop on the potty and that his tummy hurt. And then he proceeded to poop 10 times the next hour.

During Bathroom Sit-in No. 9, Josh said, "Well, at least this is getting him over his fear of the potty."

From his lips to God's ears. So if you're looking for a quick way to get your kid pooping in the potty, just infect him with the stomach flu. He'll be a champ in no time.

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Monday, February 16, 2009

Again? Really?

No time to blog because I have to go upstairs and comfort Emmie again. She's been trying to fall asleep for almost three hours now, but every time she gets quiet, she wakes up screaming. Seeing as she has a horrid yellow snot coming out of her nose, I am guessing ANOTHER EAR INFECTION.

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Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Ear infection times two

On Saturday, Jack was doing a big floor puzzle and I was watching him from the couch. I noticed he kept shrugging his shoulder on one side, almost as if he was trying to touch his head to his shoulder.

I asked him why he was doing that and he replied, "Ear itchy!"

Realizing he was probably trying to express something he didn't know how to explain, I asked him, "Does your ear hurt?" and he looked like a lightbulb popped in his head and he said yes.

I called the doctor and got him in for an after-hours appointment at 3:15 p.m. I was informed I would have to cough up an additional $25 over the co-pay, but I figured he was worth it. Maybe. For that price, he damn well better have an actual illness, none of this "it's a virus, let it run its course" crap. In the meantime, I gave him some Motrin and put him down for his nap. When he woke up at 3, he was screaming.

"Ear hurt! Ear hurt!" he sobbed as I frantically got his coat on him and dragged him to the car with promises of the doctor making his ear all better.

Low and behold, he was indeed infected in the ear. With a prescription for Amoxicillin and Elmo stickers in hand, we were on our way in a few short minutes.

To recap, in the last two weeks our little family has suffered through four cases of the stomach flu, two ear infections (one double) and two colds that came complete with hacking coughs.

And it's only halfway through the winter cold season! I am thinking about sheathing myself in a protective bubble and bathing the children in hand sanitizer three times a day. I am telling you, it's those damn preschool germs that are doing us in.

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Wednesday, January 21, 2009

No pain, no gain

Emmie had her one-year doctor visit yesterday and as always, it was good news and bad news. Let's start with the bad news: she has yet another ear infection. This is her third in three months, but this time it's only a single ear, her right one.

I figured she had one after her nose started running like a faucet the day after she puked last week and the snot turned a lovely shade of green and yellow this weekend. She also woke up during the night on Monday, a surefire sign of ear troubles in this child. But the doctor ordered up a sulfur-based antibiotic for the next 10 days and we're hoping to clear it right up.

Now, the good news: Miss Failure To Thrive Six Months Ago is now between the 10th and 25th percentile for weight, tipping the scales at 19 pounds. She's 30.25 inches, which puts her in the 95th percentile for height, which she has been at since she was a wee baby. Her weight gain impressed the doctor, which was awesome. I was hoping for 20 pounds, so we could put her in the big-girl carseat facing forward, but it shouldn't take long to reach that last pound now that she's drinking whole milk and eating full-fat yogurt and cheese.

She's doing all the things she should be doing and he agreed that she's probably going to take her first steps any day now. Overall, a stellar appointment. Three shots and a finger prick for her lead screening and we were out the door.

Here's to making a new curve on the growth chart -- way to go Emmie!

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Monday, January 19, 2009

Throwing (up) a party

Let me tell you about Emmie's big first birthday party. We had everything in place, the pizzas were on the way, the beer and soda were chilling in the ice tub and the cupcakes were on display. She was in her cute little birthday dress waiting for the guests to arrive when Jack woke up from his nap.

Josh went in to get him, took two steps into the room and announced, "Uh, Amy? Jack is sick." And with that, the Mommy in me went from party mode to parent mode. We got him out of his vomit-covered crib and into the bathtub, where Josh stripped him down and bathed him while I stripped the crib and got all the sheets and blankets and loveys into the wash.

Because it was 15 minutes before the party was set to start, it was too late to call the guests. We decided to keep him upstairs and warn everyone at the door that we had a puker. If they didn't want to come inside, we wouldn't hold it against them in a court of law. Even better if they offered to go upstairs and nurse him back to health.

Since Emmie had only puked once when she had it two days earlier, I figured he would be fine, but he was still sequestered upstairs. The two grandpas volunteered to play with Jack so we could attend Emmie's party with her and make sure everyone was having a good time.

No one ran screaming from the house when they arrived and heard the news, so the party went on. Uncfortunately, so did the puking. There's nothing worse for a mommy than being torn between two children who need you. Every time he puked, Jack would ask for me and I would run upstairs to see if he was OK and tell him how brave he was and then I would run back downstairs to celebrate the big milestone birthday with Emmie.

It was almost a blessing that Jack was as sick as he was because he had no idea what was going on downstairs. He just laid on the floor of our bedroom on a sheet, watching "Sesame Street" on a constant loop, occasionally playing with some toys we brought up for him. Also a blessing was that it was so bitterly cold last week because it meant we kept the kids out of the basement playroom, so he hadn't played with any of the toys in three days and therefor had not contaminated any of them and the guests could play with them without fear of germs.

Emmie had a great time and everyone sang Happy Birthday and she enjoyed licking her cupcake and daintily eating some of the cake and frosting. Mostly, she just crawled around and investigated all the people invading her house. As soon as the last of the kids departed, I went upstairs to Jack for the rest of the evening. In all, he threw up eight times over five hours. I can't thank the two Grandpas enough for all their help, from teaching him how to use the bucket to playing Hungy Hippos with him.

By 10 p.m., he could keep a teaspoon of Pedialite in him every 15 minutes for an hour and we put his pale little face in bed for the night. I figured he would be up all night, but he slept through the night and woke up the next morning bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Years from now, when he asks us why there's no pictures of him at Emmie's first birthday party, we'll just tell him we made him stay upstairs while everyone else had fun.

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Friday, January 16, 2009

Emmie: Twelve months

Dear Emmie,

Hooray! It's finally the big day, your very first birthday! A year ago you hadn't joined our family yet and now here you are like you own the place. You have changed all of us in so many ways -- all of them good -- and I am incredulous every day at the little girl you have become. If you don't believe me, just take a look at the pictures I took of you every day for the last year to see how much you have changed.



A year ago I was still pregnant, thinking I had several more days before you were going to make your appearance. But you had other plans and in a complete reversal of your personality, you took charge and decided you were coming out 12 days ahead of schedule. That might have been the last time you ever imposed your will on me, because since your birth, you have been pretty much the most laidback kid I know.

That laidback attitude was evident this last month when it came to your attempts at walking. You are so content to just walk along the furniture and then let go and stand totally still. You can balance now for 30 seconds or more on your own, but if you want something, you gracefully plop down on your butt and crawl on over to whatever it is that has captured your attention. We have tried to get you to take a few steps, but you either throw yourself in the direction of the other person or you get jello legs and crumple to the ground laughing. I think you're really close to walking, though, and it won't be more than a couple of weeks before you do.



Your first birthday was almost marred by a case of the stomach flu, but you rallied and seem to be fine today. Yesterday you threw up for the first time and it was a shock to me, as I came into your room after naptime to find you in three puddles with vomit all over your clothes and in your hair. But true to form, when you saw me, you laughed and clapped. The world's happiest sick child. But it appeared to be a one-time thing and after several rounds of pedialite, you were fine and back to normal by this morning. Of course you developed a runny nose and a case of the Mommy Clings today, so there's probably a cold on your horizon.

This past month also gave you your first taste of presents. Your Christmas was fun and full of gifts, but like most kids, you were much more interested in the wrapping paper and bags than the toys and clothes. Your brother was more than happy to both unwrap all your gifts and play with all the toys on your behalf. That's brotherly love for you.



The relationship with your brother continued to be a little sketchy this past month. You really like to watch what he's doing at all times, getting right up with him and looking at toys or books. Unfortunately, he's not so into that and he tends to deal with it by hitting, pushing or kicking you. I have resorted to telling him not to touch you at all because he can't seem to find a way to be nice to you lately. I know this too shall pass, but some day when you ask why we let him abuse you, please know we gave him timeouts each and every time he hit you. Really. But there have been some good times between the two of you, mostly at mealtimes when the two of you sit in your chairs and make each other laugh. You love to watch him and he loves to say silly things and make you giggle. The best thing right now is how much he loves to come upstairs when you wake up from your nap. He hears you on the monitor and when I say we're going to go up and get you, he runs up the stairs and throws the door open and yells, "Gooooood morning Emmie!" and climbs up on the rail of your crib and pats your hands. You smile like a ray of sun and laugh and I stand watching the two of you from the doorway, content to know that you do have some parts of your relationship that are working and free from violence.



Perhaps things will get even better when you can talk, so you can express your feelings to him. For now, you are a pretty complex babbler. You can say just about all the range of babble sounds from bababa to mamama to dadada to rarara to wawawa and many more. We're trying to teach you a few signs -- notably "more" and "all done" -- but so far you just think we're really funny when we do them.

You are still nursing twice a day at this point, soon to be weaned. We have a little vacation coming up in two weeks, so you'll probably be fully weaned sometime around then. For now, you are still nursing in the morning and at night, and you get two bottles of whole milk during the day. You are not a fan of the milk and it takes some cajoling to get all 5 ounces down. I tried to get you to move right to a sippy cup with the milk, but you were so violently opposed to the milk itself, I figured I might get a better response by at least letting you drink it from a bottle. Hopefully as you get used to it, you'll stop fighting it so much. But thankfully your dairy intolerance is gone. You now eat cheese and yogurt and drink milk, all without problems. That's great news for your weight gain, as you should be porking up nicely in the coming months with all that fat and calories in your diet. You're still pretty adventurous when it comes to eating, and your favorites are turkey sandwiches, pita and hummus, chicken, peas and avocado, but you won't eat bananas anymore unless we mush them up in a bowl.



The fun part about your eating, however, is that you have entered the stage where when you are done, you just fling it on the floor. So one second you're grooving on your little pieces of avocado and the next, you're launching them across the room like you're throwing out a runner at second base. Even your brother knows throwing food is not cool and is quick to point it out to me when you start doing it. I know this is a stage that does not quickly die out, so I am not looking forward to months of telling you, "No throw!"

What I am looking forward to is more sleep. In the last month, you gradually gave up your last nightwaking at 4 a.m. and started sleeping through the night for 12 straight hours. We put you to bed at 7:30 p.m. and are greeted with pleasant chatter and your crib soother music at 7:30 a.m. We go in to get you and are greeted with a huge smile and outstretched arms. I knew you would get here eventually, and I couldn't be more excited about this development. There are some rare times where I miss our middle-of-the-night co-sleeping, but mostly I enjoy the ability to sleep on my right side whenever I want. And you sleep so much better in your own crib, that it's the best situation for all of us.

People always make such a big deal over the first birthday. There's cake and parties and presents and pictures. Tonight you had presents and cake, although you could have cared less about the presents and cried when you ate your cake. Apparently we could have given you a jar of veggies and you would have been much happier. But you can try again tomorrow at your big birthday bash. But looking back, there has been so much to celebrate this past year, it seems silly to celebrate it all on one day. You have brought joy and sunshine to our lives each day. There is not a single minute that goes by that I am not thankful for you. You are a joy to be around. Watching you learn new things is so much fun, I see things from your perspective and learn new things myself. One of your favorite games is to give us a toy and then have us say thank you and give it back to you. Every time we give it back it's like you've never experienced such generosity and you get so excited. I love to see that joy in your eyes and I hope it is there for the rest of your life. You have brought me such joy and happiness and I genuinely like the little person you have become. You are a social little girl who seems very concerned about others. I think this will serve you well in the years to come.



I love you so very much and want only the best things for you. This past year has been an incredible journey and your second year is going to be even better. Thank you for being such a fabulous little girl. We couldn't ask for a better daughter and sister.

Love,
Mommy

(Just want to throw a note out there for all the readers... Could you please leave a comment for Emmie on this post? Even you lurkers out there -- you can make it your first comment! I am going to print out the post and comments for her babybook, and it would be great to have all the comments for her too!)

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Tuesday, January 13, 2009

I have the plague

So I either have the good old intestinal flu or food poisoning. Either way, I feel like death. Josh has played the role of stay-at-home dad today with great gusto. He even did the preschool dropoff and pickup. Thank goodness he was home this week. I honestly don't know what I would have done.

In case you were wondering, so far no one else is showing symptoms. Which is great. Because the last thing we need is a bunch of stomach flu victims when we are having a party this weekend. Methinks food poisoning since no one else got sick and it happened about six hours after I ate a Chipotle veggie burrito bowl -- the only thing I ate differently from Josh all day yesterday. Perhaps getting Mexican fast food right before closing time might not be the best idea for the future.

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Monday, December 15, 2008

Peek-a-boo!

This weekend, we were waiting forever at the pharmacy for Emmie's presciption and she amused herself by learning to play peek-a-boo.

Why is she on medicine again, you might be asking yourself. The answer would be because she has her second double ear infection in the last three weeks. I suspected this one after the snotty nose became green-tinged, the low-grade fever stuck around and she was awake 6-7 times per night, including an hour-long screamfest at 3 a.m. on Friday night.

The doctor said if she has one more ear infection before February, we'll probably get a referral to an ENT. Of course we will, because this poor kid hasn't been through enough in the last 11 months. Of course she'll get tubes too. Par for the course around here.

Anyway, here's the sicky demonstrating her newfound skillz.

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Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Let's not be rash

Emmie woke up this morning looking like this.


I, thinking she was a little young for acne, reacted with restraint and calmness. I at least waited until the office opened to call the pediatrician. They told us to come on in after I told them Emmie had a rash of mysterious origin.

The poor thing was in fine spirits, laughing and playing and being her generally cordial self. She napped well and ate well, so I didn't think she was sick. But my goodness, she was looking rather like a leper. I tried to keep her in the house, lest anyone be scared off by her appearance, but we had to do the preschool pickup. I think the staff ran away when they saw her condition.

Her doctor walked in and the first thing he asked was, "What antibiotic is Emily on?" He's like magic, that one. I love him. He looked in her chart and saw it was Amoxicillin (aka The Pink Medicine) and said this was a classic penicillin allergy. Not bad enough to be life-threatening, but still an allergy. It's now been entered into her permanent record. Dun dun dunnnnnnnnn.

She had been on it for a week before the rash violently exploded on her face, legs and arms, so I was confused. Shouldn't it have happened right after she took the first dose? Not so much. Apparently it can take a few days for the histamine to kick in and then boom, symptoms.

It had started to calm down a little this evening, 24 hours since her last dose. Hopefully by Friday it will gone. Nobody wants to see pictures of a little rashy girl on Santa's lap.

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Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Busy day

Emmie and her double ear infection slept until 8:15 a.m. this morning. She did wake once at 6 a.m. and then we threw her in the swing and got two more hours out of her. So that was awesome.

Not so awesome was the fact she ran a fever off and on today. So apparently the three doses of antibiotics have yet to kick in. And I took her for the Thansgiving celebration at Jack's preschool this morning. In my defense, I had no other option and I didn't let her touch anyone else. And it's an ear infection, for God's sake. It's not like it's leaping from her ear to someone else's.

But oh my, what cuteness the Thanksgiving was. There were headbands and snacks and stories and snacks and did I mention the snacks? Because those were Jack's favorite part.



After turkey day at school, I put Emmie down for her nap and headed out with Jack for his flu vaccine. Lucky for Jack, he is old enough for the flu mist so he didn't have to get a shot. He was a trooper and collected his two stickers after allowing the nice nurse to "look in his nose," as Mommy put it.

Then this evening, Josh and I hosted a cocktail party for the parents in Jack's preschool class. We had a great time and it seemed like everyone else did as well. At least they left with a few glasses of wine under their belts, so it had to be somewhat fun.

Tomorrow, we begin our holiday travels hither and yon -- with two kids this year! One of them sick! I can't wait!

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Monday, November 24, 2008

Two times the fun

If you had "double ear infection" in the Guess Emmie's Ailment pool, you are the big winner. Your prize will be waiting for you in your mailbox real soon. Just after I get over the Mommy Guilt.

She definitely was batting at the back of her head and her ears this weekend, but I figured she was rocking to some weird beat and gettin' down in her wee little way. She was waking up multiple times per night, but I figured she was just being needy. Her father insisted we make her cry it out, although I only made her cry a few times before I finally went in and rescued her. She was inconsolable and crabby, but I figured she was just pissy that I wasn't spending more time with her because I was busy. Her nose has been running like a faucet, but I figured she just had a cold.

Mother of the Year nominees, the line forms to the rear.

The doctor said her rash might not be related to the ear infection, it might just be a weird way her body is responding to the fever. And the great news is that if the ear infection is viral, not bacterial, then the other child is probably going to get it too! Since we're T-minus two days to Thanksgiving and lots of travel, I would put my money on Jack coming down with it, oh, about 10 a.m. on Wednesday.

For now, the Emmie gets lots of hugs and spoiling and two doses of antibiotic per day for 10 days. And a pony. And her own phone in her room. And a car. That Mommy Guilt is a powerful thing.

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Sunday, November 23, 2008

Fifth time's a charm

The past few days have been rather challenging with Emmie. Oh hell, let's just call it like it is and say it's been a pain in the ass.

She has had a little cold this week, nothing more than a runny nose for a few days, but was waking up multiple times each night. Like four times a night. I look like someone punched me in both eyes due to lack of sleep. She's also been generally fussy, in a "Nothing makes me happy so leave me alone! No, pick me up! No, put me down!" kind of way.

I attributed it to the fact I was busy working nonstop on Snarky stuff, so grandma was babysitting. I figured she was just mad I wasn't paying nonstop attention to her and she was going to let us know how she felt about that. Tonight, her fussiness increased to orange on the National Fuss Level scale around 5 p.m., so I whipped out the boob in the hopes of calming her down. She nursed for a few minutes and then up and fell asleep on the boppy for 45 minutes. I let her sleep because she was so wiped out. She only woke up because her brother was screeching like a dinosaur a mere 3 feet away.

After she complained all the way through dinner, and ate about half of what she normally does, I swooped in to take her upstairs for a bath. That was when I noticed her legs looked really weird -- they were covered with a lacy, red rash that almost looked like the circulation in her legs was not right. Then I saw it on her arms, back and stomach, too.

Here's what it looks like, because I am nothing if not a documentor of my child's life on the interwebs. Seriously, my first thought after seeing the rash was, "I need to take a picture of this for my blog."



Dr. Google told me it was probably Fifth's Disease or possibly Roseola. But she didn't have a fever, which was a little confusing. Except when I thought about it, she did feel a little warm. So I took her temperature and damn if it didn't read 102.1 -- perhaps more than a little warm.

I gave her some Tylenol and generally kicked myself for a few minutes for not realizing she was SICK, not a pain in the ass. Who's regretting that cry-it-out theory from last night now, huh?

So tomorrow I'll take her in for what will be the first sick-baby visit of her 10-month life. But I am guessing I am just going to hear "It's a virus, let it run its course, give her Tylenol and call us if it gets worse."

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Saturday, November 15, 2008

Lameass NaBloMe post

It's always around this midway point of NaBloPoMo that I get fatigued and bored of my own boring blogging. Lucky for you, I soldier on. Oh yes, I am nothing if not dedicated.

Anyway, I am sick. With a terrible cold. The cold both my children have had this week. And now I know why Emmie was waking up multiple times per night, because I woke up multiple times last night. I cried and wanted Josh to come and get me, but he made me cry it out.

Tonight, we're going on a Date. Capital D. A movie and something to eat. And for the first time ever, we are paying a babysitter. Up until now, we've been lucky enough to leave them with family. And because we're cheapasses, it works out well. Tonight's babysitter is still family (Josh's cousin) but we're paying him. Our immediate family better not get any ideas from that though -- they're still on the hook for free.

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Monday, November 10, 2008

Snot-nosed kid

Poor Emmie is sick again. Her nose had finally stopped running for a mere five days after her epic 21-day cold of last month and now it started again.

This time, however, I am fighting it with a humidifier and Vicks on the bottom of her feet. I read it really does work, so I am giving it a try.

Unfortunately, her cold also throws her sleep all to shit. Two nights ago, she woke up at 10 and would only be pacified by the boob. And even that didn't put her to sleep, it only calmed her down. Last night she woke at 9, same drill. Screamed hysterically, snot everywhere, until I finally brought her in my bed and fed her.

Can't wait to see what tonight has in store for us. Because I do so love being up multiple times per night 10 months into this.

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Monday, October 13, 2008

Poor thing

Emmie sneezed approximately 746 times today, leading me to believe that she was getting sick.

She woke up crying tonight after only being in bed for an hour. Then another 15 minutes after that. Because she is sick, I decided to go in there and not make her cry it out. She was interupting my Entourage viewing, but because she probably needed me, I paused it. I am selfless like that.

She lifted her head and she was covered in snot. Literally dripping down her face. So I moved her to the swing so she could be propped up, snd you know, breathing. Sent Josh out for Tylenol. We'll drug her up good and hope for the best.

It's those damn preschool germs. Poor kid doesn't get any of the fun of finger-painting, snack time or the train set and all the fun of the sickness.

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Monday, September 22, 2008

Covered in snot

We went to the lake again this weekend and both my children decided it would be a good time to cover ever available inch of me and the house with their snot. Jack started first on Friday and Emmie wasn't far behind a few hours later.

Of course for Jack, it's not that huge of a deal. We chase him around the house with a Kleenex a few times and he acts like a whinybutt and he sleeps more than usual. No biggie.

But Emmie is a whole different ball of wax. I finally had her sleeping 7 p.m. to 4 a.m. this week, putting herself to sleep in her crib, and now the sickness strikes. She can't breathe with a pacifier or her fingers in her mouth because her nose is running like a faucet, so she can't soothe herself to sleep or back to sleep. So she screams and cries mutliple times a night and I have to go in there. Last night I ended up putting her to sleep in her swing so she would be propped up and able to breathe.

Of course, she fights me on the nose sucker like she's drowning and heaven forbid I should try to wipe her nose. Oh, the horror.

This little illness should strike me down in about two days, which would make it just in time for our trip to Vegas and San Francisco later this week. Because nothing says "child-free vacation" like a stuffy nose and the smell of Vicks.

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Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Taking a look

Today I had to take Emmie in for her abdominal ultrasound. You know, one of tests she doesn't need to have done because there's nothing wrong with her except being skinny.

It was funny because I am used to seeing her on ultrasound, not seeing ultrasounds done on her. I half expected to see a fetus pop up on the screen and wave it's little skeletor arm at me.

The technician said everything looked fine. Emmie was talking and twisting and trying to grab the ultrasound wand and generally acting like a thriving seven-month old. Well, a seven-month old with a cold. A pathetic runny nose and little cough. Poor kid.

She didn't even cry when they stuck the needle in her arm for the blood draw. She was super interested in the Snoopy bandaid afterward, however.

Not so successful was the attempt to collect her urine sample. With wee babies, they use this plastic bag contraption that gets taped in place and is supposed to collect the urine. Except Emmie somehow successfully peed around the bag. Twice. I have to take the stealth pee-er back for one more test on Friday, so I can just keep trying until then.

I plan to have her sit in a bowl until she has to go. I figure she can't outsmart me then.

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Monday, August 11, 2008

Feeling like a failure

Today Emmie had her appointment with the pediatric gastroenterologist. The GI doc asked a lot of questions, examined her and of course measured and weighed her.

While she went from 13 lbs 11 ounces to 14 lbs 2 ounces in the last three weeks, she's still not where she should be in terms of weight. Her weigh-in today placed her in the 5th percentile, which also got her the official label of Failure To Thrive. Except, the GI doc said, she appears to be thriving. So he is saying it's in name only at this point.

We also found out our pediatrician mis-measured her at her last appointment and her height is only in the 50th percentile, not greater than the 95th. So she's apparently not going to be doing shoe endorsements for Nike any time soon. She's just average, I guess.

We discussed the silent reflux, and he said he does not think she has it. He told us to stop the Zantac, as it probably wasn't doing anything. Although I am sure she will miss the spectacular grape taste twice each day, we discontinued it tonight.

He also wants to run a few tests, specifically blood, sweat, stool and urine in addition to an ultrasound of her stomach. He said he doesn't expect to find anything, but it's better to have them done.

His most interesting question came in reference to her suspected milk protein intolerance. When I told him I had cut out all dairy and soy, he said I also need to cut out nuts and shellfish. Apparently, the shrimp skewers with peanut sauce are off the menu from now on. But I digress. After we discussed my limited diet, he asked how committed I was to breastfeeding on a scale of 1-10. I of course said 10 and that I would do whatever I needed to do to make it to a year. He was supportive and said that was fine, he just wanted to let me know we could try a hypoallergenic formula if I didn't want to be so restricted.

For now, he wants us giving her three or four meals of solids a day, following up with breastfeeding. He also said to feed her on demand, no matter what time of day or night. His exact words were, "Let her eat."

So we're going to bust out the avocado and applesauce mixture that Jack enjoyed so much, I am going to whip out the boob at the slightest whif of interest and we'll be back for a follow-up in a month. Until then, we'll just be being over here, failing to thrive.

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Friday, July 25, 2008

Weighty matters

I took Little Miss Giant to her six-month pediatrician visit on Wednesday, where it was confirmed she was still indeed a giant -- 27.25 inches, which is greater than the 95th percentile. Get your 2028 WNBA tickets now!

But -- and you knew with this kid there had to be a but -- she's not gaining enough weight. She only weighed 13 pounds 11 ounces and her doctor said he would have liked to see her weigh 14.5 to even consider having her cry it out at night. The CIO no longer concerns me, since clearly she needs the calories, but the lack of weight-gain is kind of troubling.

At her four-month appointment, Emmie weighed 12 pounds 2 ounces, giving her a whopping gain of just over one-and-a-half pounds in two months. This, combined with her milk protein intolerance, got us a referral to a pediatric GI specialist. Our doctor said he's not concerned yet, but he wants to rule out any problems. He also wants to see her back in a month for a weight check.

At first, I pooh-poohed the issue. She's a totally happy baby, only cries when she's tired and is meeting her milestones at or ahead of time. She even waved at the doctor, which he said was advanced because it's a nine-month skill. Sure, she's the crappiest sleeper ever, but I am convinced her caloric intake goes to making herself taller, not making herself chubbier.

He also said they wouldn't worry unless her head stopped growing, and her head circumference stayed right on her curve in the 50th percentile.

Today, my degree from the Google School of Medicine starting kicking in. She wakes multiple times during the night. She eats frequently overnight, oh about six or seven times, but who's counting? She does crunches. She really likes sleeping in her swing. We hold her a lot. She has a milk protein intolerance. She's not gaining weight like she should.

Holy crap -- those are all symptoms of silent reflux. Suddenly the heavens parted and the light shone down upon me and I felt a moment of being one with the universe. I think Emmie has silent reflux. She very rarely spits up. She eats a lot, but spends a lot of time pulling off the breast. Combined with all of the above, it's pretty good match.

So this morning I called my pediatrician and reported my suspicions. When I presented my case to him, he said it did sound like it could be silent reflux. He prescribed her Zantac, twice a day and we'll see if it makes any difference. If it does, and she gains weight and starts sleeping better, awesome. If nothing changes, we've ruled it out and still have an appointment with the GI doctor.

Or, as Josh said the other day, maybe she's buying into the media messages and is trying to keep her slim figure via an eating disorder.

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Tuesday, June 3, 2008

Rolling, rolling, rolling

Emmie rolled from her back to her front today. This is momentus for two reasons.

First, she abhors being on her stomach with the passion normally reserved for religious zealots. You put her down and she is smiley for about 45 seconds and then the fuss begins and soon she is so upset I just swoop in and pick her up because listening to her cry raises my blood pressure by about 70 points. So I am not sure why she would voluntarily flip herself onto her tummy, but she did.

The second reason is she is now, in theory, mobile. And we wanted the basement remodeling project done before she was mobile. So we really need to get past the stage we are at today, which involved demolition of all the drywall downstairs. I actually see the brick on the outside of this house from the inside of the house. It's kind of urban-loft hipster, except not. Because it's not cool, it's just messy.

Also, an update on Jack and his sickness. He's still sick, Running around playing and generally acting like himself. We took him to Grandma and Grandpa's lake house this weekend and he had a great time. No more vomiting, but wowsa, those diapers are DISGUSTING. Poor kid is so traumatized he won't poop anywhere but in his diaper in his bed, so he ends up wandering around saying, "Butt hurt. Poop bed." I finally put him in his bed for a few minutes this morning, which produced the desired result, and he seemed to feel better for a while. But we're still on Dehydration-Watch 2008 here. So far, no one else has gotten sick. You know I just cursed myself by typing that.

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Friday, May 30, 2008

It was a good vomit-free run

It lasted 27 months, 22 days but all good things must come to an end. My son puked for the first time this morning and I was thisclose to missing it. Unfortunately for me, and fortunately for Josh, I was literally walking out the door to meet a friend for coffee when he started blowing chunks in his high chair. So I stopped in my tracks. Although I did consider getting my beverage and muffin to go. I wouldn't have been gone that long.

Josh said Jack woke up with possibly the worst diaper he has ever had to change. But he was acting normal and wanting to eat his "mel" (oatmeal) so Josh made him a bowl. Next thing he knew, Jack was starting to gag and then the oatmeal was mixed with a lot of other stuff.

Jack was sobbing, obviously he was scared about the whole thing. Hell, I cry when I throw up. (I have not thrown up from a stomach bug since I was in eighth grade. I should get a medal, no?)

I was almost sobbing when I had to help clean it up. I don't do puke. Those friends you have in college who always vow to hold your hair while you puke? Yeah that wasn't me. I was the friend leaving them in the dorm bathroom and going out for another drink. But when it was my own child, I manned up. Josh and I tag-teamed the cleaning of the boy and I hosed down the high chair and started the laundry.

After all that excitement, and a trip to the grocery store for pedialyte and applesauce, I came home and needed something from Jack's room. It pretty much reeked of the diaper from that morning and I couldn't understand why since we disposed of that affront to nature in the outdoor garbage. That's when I found his pajamas -- with poop inside them. And then glanced in his bed, where I found more poop. Not sure how Josh missed those little presents, but I will give him the benefit of the doubt since he stumbled in there at the ungodly hour of 7 a.m.

The rest of the morning and afternoon were sickness-free. He ate some dry toast, egg, applesauce and pedialyte. He took a three-and-a-half-hour nap and woke up in a chipper mood. My pediatrician's office says to start a regular diet, including milk, 6-8 hours after the last bout of sickness. So we gave him some crackers and milk and he was fine. His father declared him well enough to go out for pizza.

You might think I am going somewhere with this. Nowhere you might be guessing.

The pizza dinner was fine. But when we got home, he started wandering around the house saying, "Butt hurt, butt hurt. Poop." We encouraged him to go on the potty, but he was having none of that. Instead he went in his diaper, which was fine. Josh said it was bad again, changed him and got him ready for the bath. Where he started wandering around saying the same thing. But this time he was looking kinda nervous. We put him down in the bathtub, he stood up and promptly pooped in the bathtub.

So not only did he puke for the first time today, he also pooped in the bathtub for the first time. It upset him much more than it did us. He knew he wasn't supposed to do it, and he tried so hard not to. We kept telling him it was OK, but he just cried. We got him cleaned up and into bed and hopefully this will be the last of it. Although I doubt that is the case.

I'll just be here doing more laundry. And trying to decide if eco-friendly green cleaning products can also sanitize my memory of this incident every time I take a shower in my bathroom for the next year.

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Thursday, December 20, 2007

Double your pleasure

The doctor found not a single, but a double ear infection in Jack this morning. You could have knocked me over with that diagnosis. He wasn't pulling on his ears, he wasn't screaming in the middle of the night.

He woke at 8:45 this morning -- a sure tipoff he is ill -- and I am pretty sure it is the sickest I have ever seen this poor little boy. He was lethargic and coughed all night and his nose was running a disgusting amount and he just looked sick. Poor kid was up every hour during the night and I just felt so bad for him.

Thankfully we got in this morning and we were on our merry way with prescriptions for a once-a-day antibiotic and ear drops in no time at all. As an aside, how awesome is a one-dose-per-day medicine? No remembering the doses, no waking a sleeping child, no coercing them to swallow several times per day. I think all medication should henceforth be dispensed in this manner.

Anyway.

Doc says Jack should be back to normal in 48 hours and I am thrilled it's something non-communicable to the pregnant Mommy. Although I am sure I will find a way to catch an ear infection.

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Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Fever update

Here we are in hour 60 of the Great Fever of 2007, and Jack's temperature was a solid 101 degrees before bedtime. That was down from a rousing high of 103.5 this afternoon. During the middle of the night, one of the 25 times he woke up crying, he was so hot to the touch I didn't even take his temperature because I didn't want to know what it was.

So there you have it.

My pediatrician wants to see kids who run a fever of 100.4 or higher for 72 hours, so methinks we'll be in the waiting room tomorrow afternoon. I don't know if there's anything they can do for him, but I really don't want to take a chance either. That's what co-pays are for!

The coughing continues unabated and his nose is running like a faucet and he was crabbier than all get out for most of the day. That's my favorite part. The whining and the shorter-than-normal attention span.

Again, I thank the God of The Sickies that this is happening now and not, oh, say, Monday afternoon. But could we please just have one week -- one measly week -- where someone in this three-person family is not sick? Apparently, too much to ask.

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Monday, December 17, 2007

You give me fever

I was going to post about our visit to Santa last Friday or perhaps about being 34 weeks pregnant and hitting a wall and just wanting to sleep all day in one position so I don't have to actually turn over in bed or bend down.

Oh but then Jack came down with a fever and a cough and of course, there's no material like a sick child to just increase that readership.

Yesterday when I left for tea with my friends (I know! Tea! At The Drake, like I am all fancy-pants!) he was napping and fine. When Josh and Jack picked me up from tea, Jack sounded like he might be a little sick, that or he smoked a pack of Marbs and washed it down with some Jim Beam. Hard to tell.

We are visiting in Peoria this week and by the time we got here, it was 9:45 p.m. and my child was still awake. Awake with an odd little cough. Not anything major, but it sounded like what the doctor likes to call a "productive" cough, with a little phlegm in there.

Seriously, if you want to remove this blog from your favorites right now, I would not blame you. Who blogs about phlegm? Not to mention the posts that should be coming right up in the ensuing weeks about mucus plugs and placentas.

This morning, after a brief wakeup around 6 o'ungodlyclock, he slept in until 9:30 a.m.! I would chalk it up to the late bedtime, but I have to attribute it to the sickies now. Because shortly before lunch, I took his temperature and it was up to 100.5 and he seemed not himself.

Of course this did not stop me from taking him out to get new shoes. In my bad-Mommy defense, he has a blister on his big toe and the shoe situation has reached a critical stage. We also stopped at Panera, but he did eat soup, so I am chalking that one up to health benefits.

Before bathtime tonight, he was a whopping 102.5 and we dosed him with the Motrin again and put him to bed with a vaporizer, where he proceded to fall immediately asleep. Again, NOT NORMAL was flashing in neon lights on the door to the bedoom.

So we wait out the sickies and I give a silent thanks for this not being next Monday. Because I hear Santa passes by the chimneys that are marked "quarantine."

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Monday, November 12, 2007

Again with the plague

How many times can I get sick in one year? Seriously, this is so annoying.

I have the plague again. So does Jack. Between the two of us, we went through an entire box of Kleenex yesterday. Today, I started coughing. That was after the fun of last night when I couldn't breathe lying down, making sleep impossible. Oh and I think my ear hurt today, but I am trying to pretend that didn't happen.

But soldier on, I did. I still got up with Jack. I still went to music class with him. I still went to the park. I still made and served him a dinner that he chewed and spit out instead of ingesting.

I know it sounds like I am complaining. That's because I am. I am sick of being sick and not being able to take anything for it because I am either pregnant or breastfeeding. I am pretty sure that of the last three years, I have spent approximately 28 months in a state where I could not take any over-the-counter medication. I just want some damn Nyquil so I can fall into a drug-induced sleep. Is that too much to ask?

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