If I had a super-power (and I'm not saying I don't because, you know, superheroes have to keep their identities secret) it would be to load the dishwasher freakishly full of dishes and still have them come out clean.
We should have a contest to decide what my superheroine name would be with this power. Maytag Mom. Bosch Beauty. SarcasticHero.
++++
You know what else is super (or, you know, not)? Mr. Long-Suffering spiked a 104-degree fever and they are testing him for Lyme Disease and Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. I kind of hope it's RMSF (as opposed to Lyme Disease if he must have one of those) because the name just sounds so dang exotic. Supposedly, it's endemic in the ticks of Missouri (Mr. L-S did find a tick on himself when we were in the woods at the Science Museum in Camdenton).
Monday, June 28, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
An Anecdote and A Product Review
There were big purple blobs on the radar last night with evidence of rotation. We spent the evening below ground in the family room. Chuckles was getting a wee bit frightened by the thunder, so I threw the kids in the shower in the downstairs bathroom...the better to drown out the noise and be away from windows while getting clean. And Mythbusters says you don't really need to worry about showering during an electrical storm.
Then, the power went out for hours and hours. I ended up calling the police because Rowdy Teens were out joyriding and knocking on doors at midnight during a power outage (and we have many elderly neighbors and a history of looting in Chicagoland). I ended up sitting in the front window (in the dark) and waited for them to come back up to our front door and then right when they were ready to knock and run: blinded them with a 20 million candle power flashlight. That was really funny. Mr. Long-Suffering had no idea what I was doing and then BAM…teens scrambling away.
====
First things first: I received nothing bought or sold nor did I buy anything sold or bought. Anything bought was bought with my own money at retail prices without a coupon.
I'd like to give two hearty thumbs up to Glad Press and Seal Wrap. I purchased a roll of this at Lo*Mart. I planned to use it on our recent vacation for the following things:
Then, the power went out for hours and hours. I ended up calling the police because Rowdy Teens were out joyriding and knocking on doors at midnight during a power outage (and we have many elderly neighbors and a history of looting in Chicagoland). I ended up sitting in the front window (in the dark) and waited for them to come back up to our front door and then right when they were ready to knock and run: blinded them with a 20 million candle power flashlight. That was really funny. Mr. Long-Suffering had no idea what I was doing and then BAM…teens scrambling away.
====
First things first: I received nothing bought or sold nor did I buy anything sold or bought. Anything bought was bought with my own money at retail prices without a coupon.
I'd like to give two hearty thumbs up to Glad Press and Seal Wrap. I purchased a roll of this at Lo*Mart. I planned to use it on our recent vacation for the following things:
- Cover restaurant tables where Bobo would be eating directly off of the table (although, in reality, he is using plates more and more frequently now, but I didn't know the extent of any immune issues when I made this plan).
- Use it in lieu of Tupperware on vacation. I didn't want to pack a bunch of containers and regular cling wrap does not work. Aluminum foil was an option but since I was already packing this for #1 above, I thought this could do double duty.
- Use it in lieu of sandwich and zipper bags on vacation.
It did all three things well. It stuck to bowls, it stuck to tables, and I was able to fashion sandwich and snack bags from it for an impromptu picnic we took on the boat. Price-wise, I don't know where it falls relative to other plastic wraps as I generally avoid them (since they don't work), but I would say this was a good buy since it worked so well and did triple-duty.
For the record, I am not signed up for any kind of amazon referral either. I just provided a link so you could see the product if you never have before.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose
Well, huh. Here we are. On the other side.
Lisa the Loud came home from the kitty hospital yesterday as a dope fiend. I guess she meows non-stop and displays some neurotic behavior when not on painkillers. They hope it's temporary until the pain recedes as she heals. I sure hope so. I don't need to send he to kitty rehab. Maybe she'll bump into Lindsey Lohan's puppy there though. They'd be fast friends.
OK, we went away for a week's vacation. And it was lovely. Simply lovely. We did Julia's I-Spy list. The whole family enjoyed it. We even wrote down unusual things we saw that weren't on the list (Car on Fire, Parasailers).
We went to the Ozarks in Missouri. We took the boat to restaurants for dinner. We swam, we went to the pool, played tennis, hiked the hills pushing 100-pounds of child(ren)+stroller, played dime skee-ball, went to a children's museum with a Zip Line, rode bumper cars and go-karts. It was fun in a way that taking your kids on vacation where you went as a child is. Things, of course, have changed some since I was a kid and I told everyone all about how it was when I was young.
We went with my father, the kids' grandfather. I used to go there with my grandparents when I was a kid (though we went with my mother's side of the family back then). It was relaxing, which is odd considering it was still a vacation with our kids. In 3 weeks, we are going away again with my in-laws.
I am a totally logical, scientific person whose life is based on reason and fact. So, I haven't mentioned my nanny search much lately for fear of jinxing myself.
When I went back to work when Chuckles was 2.5 (August 2007), he went to the same day care he started at when he was 11 weeks old. From August 2007-May 2010, Chuckles had the same teacher for all but 10 weeks. Mrs. Marie. Other teachers used to tell me about how well Mrs. Marie and Chuckles got along. In fact, when I was on maternity leave, Mrs. Marie would save certain activities for the entire class until a day when Chuckles would be at school because she knew he would find the activities especially amusing. She would save certain stories with subtle humor for Chuckles days. If he was out sick, she always inquired after him. One time, Chuckles actually turned to me and called me Mrs. Marie. I found it funny (I'm sure there are some moms out there who would not find it amusing, btu I took it to mean he had a bond and loving relationship with her). When Mrs. Marie found out that I was pulling the kids from day care (and interviewing teenagers to be our new nanny), she started crying. And from there, we hired her away from the day care. She had been there 18 years. She started with us yesterday morning.
We had a kid in that day care for almost 5 years. During that time, our entire extended family had come to know Mrs. Marie. And it turns out her mother was my mother-in-law's Avon Lady back when that was the thing. Her brother went to HS with my sister-in-law. These things came out over time, since she is married and had a different last name. Mrs. Marie's sister is going to be our back-up, fill-in nanny for when Mrs. Marie is on vacation or sick (unless they want to go on vacation together, then I'll just take a vacay day). We know Mrs. Marie's sister too since she used to work at our day care as well and also went to HS with my husband.
I told a few men at work with whom I was in a meeting, that I am living their reality now: I have a SAH wife. I am so happy. Relieved. It's like one giant pool of relief the last two weeks after the previous 3 weeks or month of total chaos. I trust Mrs. Marie. Priceless.
Lisa the Loud came home from the kitty hospital yesterday as a dope fiend. I guess she meows non-stop and displays some neurotic behavior when not on painkillers. They hope it's temporary until the pain recedes as she heals. I sure hope so. I don't need to send he to kitty rehab. Maybe she'll bump into Lindsey Lohan's puppy there though. They'd be fast friends.
OK, we went away for a week's vacation. And it was lovely. Simply lovely. We did Julia's I-Spy list. The whole family enjoyed it. We even wrote down unusual things we saw that weren't on the list (Car on Fire, Parasailers).
We went to the Ozarks in Missouri. We took the boat to restaurants for dinner. We swam, we went to the pool, played tennis, hiked the hills pushing 100-pounds of child(ren)+stroller, played dime skee-ball, went to a children's museum with a Zip Line, rode bumper cars and go-karts. It was fun in a way that taking your kids on vacation where you went as a child is. Things, of course, have changed some since I was a kid and I told everyone all about how it was when I was young.
We went with my father, the kids' grandfather. I used to go there with my grandparents when I was a kid (though we went with my mother's side of the family back then). It was relaxing, which is odd considering it was still a vacation with our kids. In 3 weeks, we are going away again with my in-laws.
I am a totally logical, scientific person whose life is based on reason and fact. So, I haven't mentioned my nanny search much lately for fear of jinxing myself.
When I went back to work when Chuckles was 2.5 (August 2007), he went to the same day care he started at when he was 11 weeks old. From August 2007-May 2010, Chuckles had the same teacher for all but 10 weeks. Mrs. Marie. Other teachers used to tell me about how well Mrs. Marie and Chuckles got along. In fact, when I was on maternity leave, Mrs. Marie would save certain activities for the entire class until a day when Chuckles would be at school because she knew he would find the activities especially amusing. She would save certain stories with subtle humor for Chuckles days. If he was out sick, she always inquired after him. One time, Chuckles actually turned to me and called me Mrs. Marie. I found it funny (I'm sure there are some moms out there who would not find it amusing, btu I took it to mean he had a bond and loving relationship with her). When Mrs. Marie found out that I was pulling the kids from day care (and interviewing teenagers to be our new nanny), she started crying. And from there, we hired her away from the day care. She had been there 18 years. She started with us yesterday morning.
We had a kid in that day care for almost 5 years. During that time, our entire extended family had come to know Mrs. Marie. And it turns out her mother was my mother-in-law's Avon Lady back when that was the thing. Her brother went to HS with my sister-in-law. These things came out over time, since she is married and had a different last name. Mrs. Marie's sister is going to be our back-up, fill-in nanny for when Mrs. Marie is on vacation or sick (unless they want to go on vacation together, then I'll just take a vacay day). We know Mrs. Marie's sister too since she used to work at our day care as well and also went to HS with my husband.
I told a few men at work with whom I was in a meeting, that I am living their reality now: I have a SAH wife. I am so happy. Relieved. It's like one giant pool of relief the last two weeks after the previous 3 weeks or month of total chaos. I trust Mrs. Marie. Priceless.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
My shoulders are now 6" lower
And I didn't even stop wearing shoulder pads.
We got all of Bobo's blood test results back. With the exception of the elevated liver enzymes (which were most likely caused by Nystatin), he is fine. La-de-Dah. Fine fine fine. Did I mention fine? He has no IgE allergy responses at all to anything (not milk, not cats, not peanuts, not shellfish, not soy, not wheat, not mild, nothing). None. Nada.
His IgA, IgE, IgG, and IgM levels were all normal. His titers for diphtheria and tetanus were good. Hios M-CHAT score was ZERO on Tuesday. ZERO! ZERO! He is healthy and fever-free. He's making great strides in speaking ("buh", "Cah", "MAMA"). He's running. And climbing, and throwing temper tantrums. He's an almost-perfect 19-month old. We've lost 8 months of his life to illness, but now that he's out of day care, he's making up for lost time. Between the one-on-one attention with one of his parents and the (stunning) lack of illness, he's like an entirely different person. Speech therapy should commence this week. In six months, I hope this will all be a distant memory. The FMLA paperwork should be completed and turned in right around the time that this ends. Yippee.
Lisa the Loud, however, has a bladder stone. She's in the kitty hospital. She needs $1500 worth of work. Before Bobo's test results were back, I had been working on finding her a new home. If Bobo had been allergic, we probably would have put her to sleep (since we couldn't find anyone to take a healthy cat, I doubt they'd take a sick cat). But, since Bobo is fine. Fine fine. Lisa gets a reprieve. I called the vet hospital this morning to schedule the surgery. She's staying there for 10 days as a border since we are slated to be en vacances next week and I can't have cone-head cat walking around our house unsupervised and peeing. Stanley Steemer was out last week and cleaned the carpets only to have Lisa soil them on Monday.
The vet tells me that Lisa is spitting and hissing. Lisa is the most docile cat I have ever seen. A little skittish maybe, but gentle. So either she is in a lot of pain or she really doesn't like being in a kitty condo. They say it's not a cage, but they did have to put a blanket over her to calm her the eff down. I just hope when she comes home all fixed and healthy that she's not mean. I can't have that (nor can I have a cat who uses our house as her personal litter box).
We got all of Bobo's blood test results back. With the exception of the elevated liver enzymes (which were most likely caused by Nystatin), he is fine. La-de-Dah. Fine fine fine. Did I mention fine? He has no IgE allergy responses at all to anything (not milk, not cats, not peanuts, not shellfish, not soy, not wheat, not mild, nothing). None. Nada.
His IgA, IgE, IgG, and IgM levels were all normal. His titers for diphtheria and tetanus were good. Hios M-CHAT score was ZERO on Tuesday. ZERO! ZERO! He is healthy and fever-free. He's making great strides in speaking ("buh", "Cah", "MAMA"). He's running. And climbing, and throwing temper tantrums. He's an almost-perfect 19-month old. We've lost 8 months of his life to illness, but now that he's out of day care, he's making up for lost time. Between the one-on-one attention with one of his parents and the (stunning) lack of illness, he's like an entirely different person. Speech therapy should commence this week. In six months, I hope this will all be a distant memory. The FMLA paperwork should be completed and turned in right around the time that this ends. Yippee.
Lisa the Loud, however, has a bladder stone. She's in the kitty hospital. She needs $1500 worth of work. Before Bobo's test results were back, I had been working on finding her a new home. If Bobo had been allergic, we probably would have put her to sleep (since we couldn't find anyone to take a healthy cat, I doubt they'd take a sick cat). But, since Bobo is fine. Fine fine. Lisa gets a reprieve. I called the vet hospital this morning to schedule the surgery. She's staying there for 10 days as a border since we are slated to be en vacances next week and I can't have cone-head cat walking around our house unsupervised and peeing. Stanley Steemer was out last week and cleaned the carpets only to have Lisa soil them on Monday.
The vet tells me that Lisa is spitting and hissing. Lisa is the most docile cat I have ever seen. A little skittish maybe, but gentle. So either she is in a lot of pain or she really doesn't like being in a kitty condo. They say it's not a cage, but they did have to put a blanket over her to calm her the eff down. I just hope when she comes home all fixed and healthy that she's not mean. I can't have that (nor can I have a cat who uses our house as her personal litter box).
Wednesday, June 02, 2010
In Which I Blog Like a 90-year Old Woman
So, did you hear? Did you hear? DID YOU HEAR? Myrtle got a new hip. MYRTLE GOT A NEW HIP. (That was me blogging like you were old too and couldn't hear me the first time...not funny, you say. OK, but I'm laughing.)
So, I will now recount my various encounters with medical professionals from the last 2 days. Tuesday morning the ENT's office called and there was a cancellation. There was no time for me to leave work and get home for it, so Mr. Long-Suffering took both kids with him to the ENT (and the blood draw lab). As an aside, I told MR. L-S where I have been hiding the Leapster for the last 4 months so he could use it to "bribe" Chip into being quiet during the visits.
The ENT said Bobo's ears looked clear and fine right now. Some of the blood work results were back (they have computerized medical records so she could view the results as can our pediatrician). Everything that had been run to that point looked within normal ranges except for liver enzymes (and I don't know which tests had already been run). Since Bobo has been on a variety of various and sundry medications in the last...oh let's say 3-6 months, I'm not that surprised. I'm sure something clears through the liver. Though, for the record, we never ever ever use Tylenol (or acetominophen). So, we'll repeat that at some point.
The ENT thinks Bobo is suffering from allergies and has recommended that we do the asthma treatment to our house (get rid of blinds, clean the carpet, put stuffed friends in the dryer for 30 minutes on high every couple of days). We'll see. Turns out the ENT takes her newborn to the same day care we just left. Hee hee. Anyway, the allergy panel blood draw is being sent to a special lab and those results aren't in yet (and we don't yet know whether they got enough blood to run the tests). We'll do the easy part of the allergy and asthma stuff (like putting munker in the dryer...munker is the name of Bobo's sutffed monkey), but I don't really know how you clean blinds. I understand the concept of dusting them (and do dust them). But the blinds in the kitchen need to be degreased and cleaned beyond dusting. Is there someone I can hire? Does Servicemaster handle this? I mean, if they can clean up a burst sewage line, they can clean blinds, right?
All-in-all, I'm not totally heck-bent on discovering why Bobo has been so uncommonly sick if taking him out of day care makes him better. If you know how to treat the problem, do you really need to know the root cause?
So, I spent the day today being a SAHM with both kids. They were good (although active and hell bent on injury and destruction). I gave each child one time-out (Bobo doesn't get it but I thought that it might make Chip realize that I dole out corrections to both of them). And I said, "Sit down" and "Put your bottom in the chair" and "No standing" at least six-thousand seven-hundred nineteen times. Standing on the couch (or in the chair or on the arm of the couch) is super huge big fun.
Cute child story and then I am going to bed: Chip can do math. He can add and subtract (no borrowing). So,8+8 is 16. And when asked what 80 plus 80 was, he answered, "Sixteeny." Bu-dum-dum.
So, I will now recount my various encounters with medical professionals from the last 2 days. Tuesday morning the ENT's office called and there was a cancellation. There was no time for me to leave work and get home for it, so Mr. Long-Suffering took both kids with him to the ENT (and the blood draw lab). As an aside, I told MR. L-S where I have been hiding the Leapster for the last 4 months so he could use it to "bribe" Chip into being quiet during the visits.
The ENT said Bobo's ears looked clear and fine right now. Some of the blood work results were back (they have computerized medical records so she could view the results as can our pediatrician). Everything that had been run to that point looked within normal ranges except for liver enzymes (and I don't know which tests had already been run). Since Bobo has been on a variety of various and sundry medications in the last...oh let's say 3-6 months, I'm not that surprised. I'm sure something clears through the liver. Though, for the record, we never ever ever use Tylenol (or acetominophen). So, we'll repeat that at some point.
The ENT thinks Bobo is suffering from allergies and has recommended that we do the asthma treatment to our house (get rid of blinds, clean the carpet, put stuffed friends in the dryer for 30 minutes on high every couple of days). We'll see. Turns out the ENT takes her newborn to the same day care we just left. Hee hee. Anyway, the allergy panel blood draw is being sent to a special lab and those results aren't in yet (and we don't yet know whether they got enough blood to run the tests). We'll do the easy part of the allergy and asthma stuff (like putting munker in the dryer...munker is the name of Bobo's sutffed monkey), but I don't really know how you clean blinds. I understand the concept of dusting them (and do dust them). But the blinds in the kitchen need to be degreased and cleaned beyond dusting. Is there someone I can hire? Does Servicemaster handle this? I mean, if they can clean up a burst sewage line, they can clean blinds, right?
All-in-all, I'm not totally heck-bent on discovering why Bobo has been so uncommonly sick if taking him out of day care makes him better. If you know how to treat the problem, do you really need to know the root cause?
So, I spent the day today being a SAHM with both kids. They were good (although active and hell bent on injury and destruction). I gave each child one time-out (Bobo doesn't get it but I thought that it might make Chip realize that I dole out corrections to both of them). And I said, "Sit down" and "Put your bottom in the chair" and "No standing" at least six-thousand seven-hundred nineteen times. Standing on the couch (or in the chair or on the arm of the couch) is super huge big fun.
Cute child story and then I am going to bed: Chip can do math. He can add and subtract (no borrowing). So,8+8 is 16. And when asked what 80 plus 80 was, he answered, "Sixteeny." Bu-dum-dum.
Tuesday, June 01, 2010
Hippos, Rhinos and this title has little to do with the content of the post
I bumped in to our Speech/Developmental Therapist at the park near our house when I was out chatting with other mothers while the kids frolicked and played. After everyone else was out of earshot, our therapist said, "I will never tell anyone where we know each other from unless you say so first." And I was all like, "What?! Why?!? There's not supposed to be any stigma." I'm just going to assume it's like HIPAA, and she took some oath.
Which reminds me...in the last week or so, several people have said some variation of "When you have a child with special needs...not that Bobo has special needs or anything..." WTF? Really? Oh, OK then. Don't all children have their own special needs? Aren't all children special? Aren't all children different from every other chld? If it means Bobo gets extra special attention, I will take any label anyone has to throw at him (much like I'll take labels for Chuckles if it means he gets special attention at school).
Follow-up: Do you remember when I said they took totally gross cultures from Bobo's ears? Did I ever tell you what the result was? No, I did not. So, ear cultures. He has a lot of drainage. Not all the time but probably half of the time (you know, like when he has an active infection). The standard treatment for ear drainage in kids with tubes is antibiotic ear drops or steroid ear drops w/ antibiotics. Bobo got his ear tubes 3/3/10. By May 19th, he had been on ear drops 4 times. He had a lot of drainage that day, but we hadn't been using the drops. I wanted to see whether he would fight it off on his own. So, cultures were taken and drops were started after we left. The cultures came back positive for something rather odd. Something that would not be helped by antibiotic drops: yeast. Bobo had a yeast infection in his ear. He had not been on antibiotics immediately prior to that. But his ears are warm, moist, and dark. It ended up clearing up on its own, but ewwww. I'm thinking of renting him out to artisinal bread makers. Once the cultures were back we discontinued the antibiotic drops and every thing sort of worked itself out. (Typical treatment for yeast in the ear is white vinegar drops but our ped wasn't sure whether that was OK with ear tubes. A call to the ENT and it is OK, but we did not end up doing it.) Chalk another one up to opportunistic infection. Oh, and he developed thrush again, but it resolved on its own (and thank goodness because the Nystatin made Bobo vomit which was un-fun.)
By the way, to the poster who recommended Dr. Raoul Wolf... three more people have recommended him to me. We might end up seeing him depending on what these blood draws show. However, Children's Memorial Hospital has a pediatric immunologist with office hours in Northwest Indiana one day per week, so that would be convenient. I'm not sure what we'll do about that when the time comes, and I don't have the head space to worry about it before we know anything, so I am inclined to ignore it for now. Head meet sand. Although, I will say that I know the back way to U of C and it's only a half hour away so we're not talking about driving to Milwaukee or anything. I will probably end up calling two or three and seeing who has the earliest appointment availability if it comes to that.
We need a palate cleansing laugh. I want to share one of the applications I got to my job on SitterCity. I will change key details (and name) to protect the "innocent". I hope this makes you laugh as much as it made me cringe. The email is paraphrased in blue with my comments in black:
Dear C (I just used my first initial in the posting so this seemed perfectly acceptable and normal to me): My name is Uhlitia (pronounced like Alicia) (alrighty then, I will call you NotAlicia). I'm 22 years old and have a lot of childcare experience. My dad left my mom when I was 12 to have an affair with another woman. It was really hard on all of us (OK, I fell I should tell you that childcare experience is good, but you could leave some of the details out about how you got that experience...says the woman who tells the entire internet about her nether regions). My mom had to work all the time so I pretty much raised my younger brother and sister . Children are my passion, and I really enjoy them. Your ad asked for a non-smoker, but I want to be honest with you (which is a good, good thing, but you might want to quit smoking because it is bad for you, and I care about you, NotAlicia.). I am a smoker, but never in the house and never around the children (well, that is considerate but the pediatrician has said no to first-hand smoke, obviously, second hand smoke, and third hand smoke for Bobo). I always make sure the kids are asleep or my friends are watching them before I go outside to smoke (OMG, were you planning on letting your friends in to my house when I wasn't home and leaving my kids with them while you went out to smoke or went to the store to buy a pack of cigs?). I hope you will consider me for the position. Uhlitia
I appreciate the honesty. It makes it easier to dismiss your application. I will now contrast this with another nanny application we received so you can see how different they are.
Replying to the Nanny Position. I Love caring for and teaching children, am CPR and First Aid Certified. Own Transportation.I live close by as I also live in [redacted]. I am nurturing, dependable and have excellent references. I work in the church nursery along with my husband. We are foster parents and host foreign exchange students during the school year. (We also train butterflies to do our yardwork and have a fleet of speech therapists on speed dial...all of whom owe us a favor.) Experience Includes:Worked in a NICU caring for Premature Babies, and Nanny for 14 years for a wonderful family. Looking forward to hearing from you. Thank You. Mary Poppins at (219) 555-1234
What Mary Poppins left out is that I would need to sell approximately one kidney and 15 of my eggs every year to afford her. Perhaps in this down economy she would take less, but her profile tells me she is looking for about $20/hour. That works out to one Acura TL plus one Nissan Versa every year (or one fully loaded Buick Enclave if you prefer an American auto counterpart).
Which reminds me...in the last week or so, several people have said some variation of "When you have a child with special needs...not that Bobo has special needs or anything..." WTF? Really? Oh, OK then. Don't all children have their own special needs? Aren't all children special? Aren't all children different from every other chld? If it means Bobo gets extra special attention, I will take any label anyone has to throw at him (much like I'll take labels for Chuckles if it means he gets special attention at school).
Follow-up: Do you remember when I said they took totally gross cultures from Bobo's ears? Did I ever tell you what the result was? No, I did not. So, ear cultures. He has a lot of drainage. Not all the time but probably half of the time (you know, like when he has an active infection). The standard treatment for ear drainage in kids with tubes is antibiotic ear drops or steroid ear drops w/ antibiotics. Bobo got his ear tubes 3/3/10. By May 19th, he had been on ear drops 4 times. He had a lot of drainage that day, but we hadn't been using the drops. I wanted to see whether he would fight it off on his own. So, cultures were taken and drops were started after we left. The cultures came back positive for something rather odd. Something that would not be helped by antibiotic drops: yeast. Bobo had a yeast infection in his ear. He had not been on antibiotics immediately prior to that. But his ears are warm, moist, and dark. It ended up clearing up on its own, but ewwww. I'm thinking of renting him out to artisinal bread makers. Once the cultures were back we discontinued the antibiotic drops and every thing sort of worked itself out. (Typical treatment for yeast in the ear is white vinegar drops but our ped wasn't sure whether that was OK with ear tubes. A call to the ENT and it is OK, but we did not end up doing it.) Chalk another one up to opportunistic infection. Oh, and he developed thrush again, but it resolved on its own (and thank goodness because the Nystatin made Bobo vomit which was un-fun.)
By the way, to the poster who recommended Dr. Raoul Wolf... three more people have recommended him to me. We might end up seeing him depending on what these blood draws show. However, Children's Memorial Hospital has a pediatric immunologist with office hours in Northwest Indiana one day per week, so that would be convenient. I'm not sure what we'll do about that when the time comes, and I don't have the head space to worry about it before we know anything, so I am inclined to ignore it for now. Head meet sand. Although, I will say that I know the back way to U of C and it's only a half hour away so we're not talking about driving to Milwaukee or anything. I will probably end up calling two or three and seeing who has the earliest appointment availability if it comes to that.
We need a palate cleansing laugh. I want to share one of the applications I got to my job on SitterCity. I will change key details (and name) to protect the "innocent". I hope this makes you laugh as much as it made me cringe. The email is paraphrased in blue with my comments in black:
Dear C (I just used my first initial in the posting so this seemed perfectly acceptable and normal to me): My name is Uhlitia (pronounced like Alicia) (alrighty then, I will call you NotAlicia). I'm 22 years old and have a lot of childcare experience. My dad left my mom when I was 12 to have an affair with another woman. It was really hard on all of us (OK, I fell I should tell you that childcare experience is good, but you could leave some of the details out about how you got that experience...says the woman who tells the entire internet about her nether regions). My mom had to work all the time so I pretty much raised my younger brother and sister . Children are my passion, and I really enjoy them. Your ad asked for a non-smoker, but I want to be honest with you (which is a good, good thing, but you might want to quit smoking because it is bad for you, and I care about you, NotAlicia.). I am a smoker, but never in the house and never around the children (well, that is considerate but the pediatrician has said no to first-hand smoke, obviously, second hand smoke, and third hand smoke for Bobo). I always make sure the kids are asleep or my friends are watching them before I go outside to smoke (OMG, were you planning on letting your friends in to my house when I wasn't home and leaving my kids with them while you went out to smoke or went to the store to buy a pack of cigs?). I hope you will consider me for the position. Uhlitia
I appreciate the honesty. It makes it easier to dismiss your application. I will now contrast this with another nanny application we received so you can see how different they are.
Replying to the Nanny Position. I Love caring for and teaching children, am CPR and First Aid Certified. Own Transportation.I live close by as I also live in [redacted]. I am nurturing, dependable and have excellent references. I work in the church nursery along with my husband. We are foster parents and host foreign exchange students during the school year. (We also train butterflies to do our yardwork and have a fleet of speech therapists on speed dial...all of whom owe us a favor.) Experience Includes:Worked in a NICU caring for Premature Babies, and Nanny for 14 years for a wonderful family. Looking forward to hearing from you. Thank You. Mary Poppins at (219) 555-1234
What Mary Poppins left out is that I would need to sell approximately one kidney and 15 of my eggs every year to afford her. Perhaps in this down economy she would take less, but her profile tells me she is looking for about $20/hour. That works out to one Acura TL plus one Nissan Versa every year (or one fully loaded Buick Enclave if you prefer an American auto counterpart).
Monday, May 31, 2010
New Hair-Do
So, I got that bikini wax. And to whoever you people in the computer were who said it was great or it didn't hurt at all, I say, "Liars!" and also "Damn Liars". I went quite conservative (as in my nether parts did not go to South America), and still...OMFG!!!!! What is wrong with you people? Really? What is wrong with you? Are you like masochists?
The part where she waxed areas that are properly called my legs went fine. But anything that was a little, ahem, more private revolted against the wax. It was revolting. The bikini areas kind of, uhhhh, bled a little everywhere the hairs were yanked from their follicles. It's a good thing I took a couple of ibuprofen before I went.
I did that Saturday. It's late on Monday and I still cringe every time I go to the bathroom and my undies are stuck to my body with the little bits of unsexy ooze coming from my newly smooth skin. This was probably one of the worst grooming incidents of my life (and I once waxed most of an eyebrow off...at least it didn't bleed).
So, I told my new waxing friend (her name is Holli) as I was nearly crying that I really am not usually such a big baby because I did the whole natural childbirth thing and it wasn't that bad. Then, I started with my lamaze breathing.
She said that "where you are in the month can affect how much it hurts" and then she told me a story about getting waxed right before she had her daughter because people were going to be looking down there and so on. So, we started chatting (as women who are naked from the waist down often do) about how many kids we have and so on. And of course, she asked me about my c-sections as she ripped the hair from the scar.
Anyway, it turns out that Holli's first born was a 23-weeker and didn't make it. Having been faced with this line of conversation before, I think I said all the right things. I truly was sorry but I know she has probably made some kind of peace with it after 9 years and she certainly doesn't want my pity. So, I told her that I was sorry to hear it but very happy that she is able to talk about it now. She went on to have two children at full term (with cerclage and a take-it-easy approach during pregnancy, in case you were wondering how she did it).
In summation, bikini wax = bad idea jeans.
==Abrupt topic change==
Bobo is having the basic immunology panel done. He's getting a CBC, IgA, IgG, IgM, IgE, titers for diphteria and tetanus (to see whether he put up an immune response to his vaccines), environmental and food allergy panel, HIV test (we had to sign a special paper authorizing that), and one other thing I can't think of. All-in-all it works out to 9 tubes of blood. He's been poked 5 times so far and he's only given up 3 or 4 tubes of blood-total. That was Friday and Saturday. The lab is ordering a special blood draw kit for Tuesday. If anything comes back unusual, I am getting the referral to a pediatric specialist because I bet they'll have some better set up for blood tests on kids. I feel like they've done the right things (warmers to bring the veins to the surface, butterfly needle of tiny gauge, etc) but this lab can't (by their license) draw from leg or scalp veins which I think might be better/bigger. Bobo is my pin cushion.
Bobo was basically on house arrest/quarantine from May 19th to the 28th. On the 28th, I took him to Meijer (where I disinfected the cart with spray and wipes and we bought cupcakes for Chuckles's last day at day care), the doctor's office, and another lab. Saturday, we went to the outdoor plant store and the lab again. Sunday we visited with family and went to IHOP (where I disinfected the table and high chair). Today, Bobo has disgusting ear drainage indicating to me that he caught a cold somewhere. ((Sigh)) I'm waiting for the fever so I know what level of high alert I should be on. Right now, I am not on alert...just on fire watch. We'll see.
I turned in the FMLA paperwork to the doctor's office because Bobo needs to be home (obviously) since routine errands apparently are too much for him. He was doing really well. In fact, he's still doing pretty well. He's making more sounds that resemble words. He's added a word for bye, one for car, and my MIL thinks he said "Gecko" but I'm not so sure. He says "guh" but I think it means "dog". So, progress. Which is something we hadn't seen on the language front in a long time.
Tomorrow, Mr. Long-Suffering is taking Bobo for the blood draw with the special syringe kit. I'll let you know how it goes. I'll also let you know if my lady bidness heals up.
The part where she waxed areas that are properly called my legs went fine. But anything that was a little, ahem, more private revolted against the wax. It was revolting. The bikini areas kind of, uhhhh, bled a little everywhere the hairs were yanked from their follicles. It's a good thing I took a couple of ibuprofen before I went.
I did that Saturday. It's late on Monday and I still cringe every time I go to the bathroom and my undies are stuck to my body with the little bits of unsexy ooze coming from my newly smooth skin. This was probably one of the worst grooming incidents of my life (and I once waxed most of an eyebrow off...at least it didn't bleed).
So, I told my new waxing friend (her name is Holli) as I was nearly crying that I really am not usually such a big baby because I did the whole natural childbirth thing and it wasn't that bad. Then, I started with my lamaze breathing.
She said that "where you are in the month can affect how much it hurts" and then she told me a story about getting waxed right before she had her daughter because people were going to be looking down there and so on. So, we started chatting (as women who are naked from the waist down often do) about how many kids we have and so on. And of course, she asked me about my c-sections as she ripped the hair from the scar.
Anyway, it turns out that Holli's first born was a 23-weeker and didn't make it. Having been faced with this line of conversation before, I think I said all the right things. I truly was sorry but I know she has probably made some kind of peace with it after 9 years and she certainly doesn't want my pity. So, I told her that I was sorry to hear it but very happy that she is able to talk about it now. She went on to have two children at full term (with cerclage and a take-it-easy approach during pregnancy, in case you were wondering how she did it).
In summation, bikini wax = bad idea jeans.
==Abrupt topic change==
Bobo is having the basic immunology panel done. He's getting a CBC, IgA, IgG, IgM, IgE, titers for diphteria and tetanus (to see whether he put up an immune response to his vaccines), environmental and food allergy panel, HIV test (we had to sign a special paper authorizing that), and one other thing I can't think of. All-in-all it works out to 9 tubes of blood. He's been poked 5 times so far and he's only given up 3 or 4 tubes of blood-total. That was Friday and Saturday. The lab is ordering a special blood draw kit for Tuesday. If anything comes back unusual, I am getting the referral to a pediatric specialist because I bet they'll have some better set up for blood tests on kids. I feel like they've done the right things (warmers to bring the veins to the surface, butterfly needle of tiny gauge, etc) but this lab can't (by their license) draw from leg or scalp veins which I think might be better/bigger. Bobo is my pin cushion.
Bobo was basically on house arrest/quarantine from May 19th to the 28th. On the 28th, I took him to Meijer (where I disinfected the cart with spray and wipes and we bought cupcakes for Chuckles's last day at day care), the doctor's office, and another lab. Saturday, we went to the outdoor plant store and the lab again. Sunday we visited with family and went to IHOP (where I disinfected the table and high chair). Today, Bobo has disgusting ear drainage indicating to me that he caught a cold somewhere. ((Sigh)) I'm waiting for the fever so I know what level of high alert I should be on. Right now, I am not on alert...just on fire watch. We'll see.
I turned in the FMLA paperwork to the doctor's office because Bobo needs to be home (obviously) since routine errands apparently are too much for him. He was doing really well. In fact, he's still doing pretty well. He's making more sounds that resemble words. He's added a word for bye, one for car, and my MIL thinks he said "Gecko" but I'm not so sure. He says "guh" but I think it means "dog". So, progress. Which is something we hadn't seen on the language front in a long time.
Tomorrow, Mr. Long-Suffering is taking Bobo for the blood draw with the special syringe kit. I'll let you know how it goes. I'll also let you know if my lady bidness heals up.
Monday, May 24, 2010
A New Blog Record
So, 8 comments! Wow. Nothing brings you guys out of hiding like my own existential crisis.
We interviewed 3 potential nannies over the weekend. All of whom we would hire (if their references and background checks pass muster). We have a one last nanny candidate coming today. I think maybe 30 people responded to the ad. I give SitterCity a thumbs up from that perspective.
So, we are thisclose to hiring ourselves a nanny. And now Mr. Long-Suffering is having second thoughts. He wants to stay home. I fowarded his call to HR. Giant Industrial Manufcaturing Company can sometimes be remarkably caring and accomodating to parents in crisis. He wants to take June off of work. (and do what? I don't know.) I think he wants to show the nanny how to take care of our kids. Make sure she's not a deranged criminal. We're thinking of interviewing her neighbors (just kidding, kind of).
So, things are looking up. I should have someone by the middle of the week.
We're getting rid of Lisa the Loud. She's still at the vet. They gave her an antibiotic shot for whatever it is she had that caused her to eliminate on Mr. Long-Suffering. I need to find her a new home because there is some concern (not mine...but other caring, intrusive individuals to whom we are related) that Bobo has cat issues/allergies. I haven't googled it, but do cats carry strep? Some people in teh extended family have suggested as much. (Google confirms they can/do.) So, we'll have to find out what it is Lisa had while she spent the weekend at the vet. I think I found a nice family who will keep her for the summer. If Bobo gets better, we might try taking Lisa back. We'll see. This is still quite tentative.
We're having the carpeting and duct work cleaned. I spent the weekend rearranging the furniture and vacuuming under and around everything, and I moved everything about. The new arrangement turns part of the living room into a preschool playland. I am not ashamed to say that I love it. My living room is a romper room and that's OK.
So, that's where I am today.
We interviewed 3 potential nannies over the weekend. All of whom we would hire (if their references and background checks pass muster). We have a one last nanny candidate coming today. I think maybe 30 people responded to the ad. I give SitterCity a thumbs up from that perspective.
So, we are thisclose to hiring ourselves a nanny. And now Mr. Long-Suffering is having second thoughts. He wants to stay home. I fowarded his call to HR. Giant Industrial Manufcaturing Company can sometimes be remarkably caring and accomodating to parents in crisis. He wants to take June off of work. (and do what? I don't know.) I think he wants to show the nanny how to take care of our kids. Make sure she's not a deranged criminal. We're thinking of interviewing her neighbors (just kidding, kind of).
So, things are looking up. I should have someone by the middle of the week.
We're getting rid of Lisa the Loud. She's still at the vet. They gave her an antibiotic shot for whatever it is she had that caused her to eliminate on Mr. Long-Suffering. I need to find her a new home because there is some concern (not mine...but other caring, intrusive individuals to whom we are related) that Bobo has cat issues/allergies. I haven't googled it, but do cats carry strep? Some people in teh extended family have suggested as much. (Google confirms they can/do.) So, we'll have to find out what it is Lisa had while she spent the weekend at the vet. I think I found a nice family who will keep her for the summer. If Bobo gets better, we might try taking Lisa back. We'll see. This is still quite tentative.
We're having the carpeting and duct work cleaned. I spent the weekend rearranging the furniture and vacuuming under and around everything, and I moved everything about. The new arrangement turns part of the living room into a preschool playland. I am not ashamed to say that I love it. My living room is a romper room and that's OK.
So, that's where I am today.
Friday, May 21, 2010
A New Day Brings Clarity
I did not cry once all day. Score one for me.
I took the morning at home (working from home due to sick kid). I logged in to the work computer at 6:30 am. I had Chuckles sitting on my lap typing out my emails. Then, we ate a leisurely breakfast together at the kitchen table. Bobo didn't get up until 7:30. Then we did our morning routine, I dropped Chuckles at school (where everyone was very mellow since they had all been up after bedtime) and came home and called my mom.
Mimi came over for a couple of hours and I joined SitterCity. I called 3 or four nannies on the phone, emailed 7 or 8 more, and posted a job online. I felt (feel) empowered. And if I don't have a nanny by Monday, it's OK. Bobo and I can suffer through another week of day care if it means we get good quality child care at the end of the rainbow. A lot of teachers and aides will be available in a couple of weeks.
I called the pediatrician's office back because Bobo developed sores on his mouth this morning. I had no idea what they are, but the office said it's probably impetigo. A quick google image search confirms. Bobo has impetigo. The good news just keeps coming.
Now, a few posts ago, I declared that sick blogging was boring. I still fundamentally agree that this is true, but I've decided to do it anyway. I'm crazy like that. I laugh in the face of boredom. And I'm a hypocrite. But that's OK. I'm in good company.
So, impetigo. According to Google Health: [Impetigo] is most common in children, particularly those in unhealthy living conditions. Now, I know I have mentioned that my housekeeping skills are not necessarily June Cleaver-y, but squalor is more of a colorfully descriptive word than an accurate description of my domesticity. The kitchen counter is a little sticky in that one spot, but overall, it's not too bad. I wouldn't eat off of the floor (after the 5 second rule expires) but that's mostly because Lisa The Loudest Cat Ever lives here. And the county early intervention people have been visiting this last month (plus we had company at Chuckles's birthday party) so I've been doing Company-Is-Coming Panic Cleaning lately (and I got that new vaccum). So overall, it's not the house.
Bobo has a pretty varied diet, although the quantities of food he eats fluctuate wildly. I am going to guess that his throat has been a little sore for at least the last month (since the pediatrician declared his throat raw at the last few visits and he has had strep throat for probably the last 3 weeks). He drinks 12-16 ounces of formula a day (still in a bottle), so I don't think he's missing out on any key nutrients.
Oh, about that bottle. He only takes it at night and nap. I had Chuckles off of the bottle by this age, but Bobo is not Chuckles. As with so many things with Bobo (like bottles, pacifiers, sleep training, potty training, etc), I keep saying, "We need to wait until he's healthy to do [fill in the blank]." Well, healthy has not been forthcoming.
So, now that we're at a crossroads and a crisis point. And I'm trying to put the pieces together. Let's assume it's all related, OK?
A couple of days after birth, we noticed scabs on Bobo's feet/toes. Is this significant? I don't know.
At 6 weeks old, he started sleeping through the night. That ended at age 3 months and has not been back regularly since then.
At 3.5 months, despite parents and sibling being vaccinated and not attending child care and still being in the baby bucket car seat (so not touching shopping carts or public high chairs), Bobo developed influenza.
At 4.5 months, I went back to work. Then the fun really began. Ear infections, colds, chicken pox, allergic reactions, antibiotics, strep pneumo, ear infections, I weaned, pink eye, ear tubes, a nosebleed that didn't stop and needed to be packed (after a minor fall), more ear infections, more pink eye, strep throat, thrush, impetigo.
So, that is not exactly a picture of health, but it's not exactly a smiley face with Xs for eyes either. So, maybe he's just a sickly kid. Nothing wrong with that. I just keep thinking that if he were healthy, he might be talking. We've spent so much time and energy managing his various illnesses. Maybe we haven't had the energy to play the sound mimic game. I'm tapping a well of undiscovered maternal strength and energy and vowing to manage illness and enjoy playful times as well. I've decided to scale my sleep back from 8 hours per night to 7. I know that sounds luxurious, but it's not like it's continuous hours of sleep.
OMG: this just in: Lisa the Loudest Cat Ever just peed on Mr. Long-Suffering. I guess Lisa is sick and needs to go to the vet. Yay. It's been 48 hours since I visited with a medical professional. I was starting to get jittery. Good thing I tapped that well.
Anyway, where was I? It turns out that our families have been avoiding us because they are all afraid they are going to catch whatever it is that Bobo has as the illness du jour. This is sad. It's very sad. Chuckles has an excellent relationship with his grandparents. And they won't go near Bobo for fear of contracting whatever it is he has on any given day. They don't want to get sick and be unable to visit their other grandchildren. But Chuckles suffers as well because they don't visit with us as a family. (And I personally, think they could visit without getting sick as Chuckles, Mr. Long-Suffering, and I have remained reasonably healthy throughout this and adults are pretty good about washing hands and not touching their eyes/noses/mouths.) We've stopped going places as a family. Chuckles and the parent of choice go to parties and visits and errands. Bobo stays home with the other parent. I didn't really notice it happening. It was gradual enough. But now, it's quite clear. Bobo is usually sick enough that he needs to stay home (to make sure he gets a good nap in his crib). I can't tell you the last time our family went somewhere together and Bobo didn't spend the whole time looking pitiful in my arms. I can't believe I didn't see all of this sooner. Oh, and I know he will be fine some day. Of this, I have no doubt. I'm more up-in-arms because I didn't see it sooner, didn't pull him from day care sooner, and still don't have a nanny lined up. It's the second guessing coupled with the fear of the unknown.
So, this has been kind of a downer post, but I'm sorting through my feelings in real time here.
If asked what I need from you, my 3 faithful readers, the answer is I need you to listen and validate my feelings. And if you have any insights, I'll take those too. Stories of how you missed your own child's illness or even stories of how you caught it early and then the kid puked in the waiting room are also good.
Oh, and I still feel very lucky. Very, very lucky. I am acutely aware that if we were in a different economic position, a chronic illness (or speech therapy) could very well bankrupt us (do you have any idea how much unicorns charge for their services?). If we were in a different time, some of these illnesses could have proved fatal to Bobo (if he had even survived birth with the whole placenta previa thing). So, yes, I am going to play the lottery again tomorrow. Somebody's gonna Lotto...might as well be me.
I took the morning at home (working from home due to sick kid). I logged in to the work computer at 6:30 am. I had Chuckles sitting on my lap typing out my emails. Then, we ate a leisurely breakfast together at the kitchen table. Bobo didn't get up until 7:30. Then we did our morning routine, I dropped Chuckles at school (where everyone was very mellow since they had all been up after bedtime) and came home and called my mom.
Mimi came over for a couple of hours and I joined SitterCity. I called 3 or four nannies on the phone, emailed 7 or 8 more, and posted a job online. I felt (feel) empowered. And if I don't have a nanny by Monday, it's OK. Bobo and I can suffer through another week of day care if it means we get good quality child care at the end of the rainbow. A lot of teachers and aides will be available in a couple of weeks.
I called the pediatrician's office back because Bobo developed sores on his mouth this morning. I had no idea what they are, but the office said it's probably impetigo. A quick google image search confirms. Bobo has impetigo. The good news just keeps coming.
Now, a few posts ago, I declared that sick blogging was boring. I still fundamentally agree that this is true, but I've decided to do it anyway. I'm crazy like that. I laugh in the face of boredom. And I'm a hypocrite. But that's OK. I'm in good company.
So, impetigo. According to Google Health: [Impetigo] is most common in children, particularly those in unhealthy living conditions. Now, I know I have mentioned that my housekeeping skills are not necessarily June Cleaver-y, but squalor is more of a colorfully descriptive word than an accurate description of my domesticity. The kitchen counter is a little sticky in that one spot, but overall, it's not too bad. I wouldn't eat off of the floor (after the 5 second rule expires) but that's mostly because Lisa The Loudest Cat Ever lives here. And the county early intervention people have been visiting this last month (plus we had company at Chuckles's birthday party) so I've been doing Company-Is-Coming Panic Cleaning lately (and I got that new vaccum). So overall, it's not the house.
Bobo has a pretty varied diet, although the quantities of food he eats fluctuate wildly. I am going to guess that his throat has been a little sore for at least the last month (since the pediatrician declared his throat raw at the last few visits and he has had strep throat for probably the last 3 weeks). He drinks 12-16 ounces of formula a day (still in a bottle), so I don't think he's missing out on any key nutrients.
Oh, about that bottle. He only takes it at night and nap. I had Chuckles off of the bottle by this age, but Bobo is not Chuckles. As with so many things with Bobo (like bottles, pacifiers, sleep training, potty training, etc), I keep saying, "We need to wait until he's healthy to do [fill in the blank]." Well, healthy has not been forthcoming.
So, now that we're at a crossroads and a crisis point. And I'm trying to put the pieces together. Let's assume it's all related, OK?
A couple of days after birth, we noticed scabs on Bobo's feet/toes. Is this significant? I don't know.
At 6 weeks old, he started sleeping through the night. That ended at age 3 months and has not been back regularly since then.
At 3.5 months, despite parents and sibling being vaccinated and not attending child care and still being in the baby bucket car seat (so not touching shopping carts or public high chairs), Bobo developed influenza.
At 4.5 months, I went back to work. Then the fun really began. Ear infections, colds, chicken pox, allergic reactions, antibiotics, strep pneumo, ear infections, I weaned, pink eye, ear tubes, a nosebleed that didn't stop and needed to be packed (after a minor fall), more ear infections, more pink eye, strep throat, thrush, impetigo.
So, that is not exactly a picture of health, but it's not exactly a smiley face with Xs for eyes either. So, maybe he's just a sickly kid. Nothing wrong with that. I just keep thinking that if he were healthy, he might be talking. We've spent so much time and energy managing his various illnesses. Maybe we haven't had the energy to play the sound mimic game. I'm tapping a well of undiscovered maternal strength and energy and vowing to manage illness and enjoy playful times as well. I've decided to scale my sleep back from 8 hours per night to 7. I know that sounds luxurious, but it's not like it's continuous hours of sleep.
OMG: this just in: Lisa the Loudest Cat Ever just peed on Mr. Long-Suffering. I guess Lisa is sick and needs to go to the vet. Yay. It's been 48 hours since I visited with a medical professional. I was starting to get jittery. Good thing I tapped that well.
Anyway, where was I? It turns out that our families have been avoiding us because they are all afraid they are going to catch whatever it is that Bobo has as the illness du jour. This is sad. It's very sad. Chuckles has an excellent relationship with his grandparents. And they won't go near Bobo for fear of contracting whatever it is he has on any given day. They don't want to get sick and be unable to visit their other grandchildren. But Chuckles suffers as well because they don't visit with us as a family. (And I personally, think they could visit without getting sick as Chuckles, Mr. Long-Suffering, and I have remained reasonably healthy throughout this and adults are pretty good about washing hands and not touching their eyes/noses/mouths.) We've stopped going places as a family. Chuckles and the parent of choice go to parties and visits and errands. Bobo stays home with the other parent. I didn't really notice it happening. It was gradual enough. But now, it's quite clear. Bobo is usually sick enough that he needs to stay home (to make sure he gets a good nap in his crib). I can't tell you the last time our family went somewhere together and Bobo didn't spend the whole time looking pitiful in my arms. I can't believe I didn't see all of this sooner. Oh, and I know he will be fine some day. Of this, I have no doubt. I'm more up-in-arms because I didn't see it sooner, didn't pull him from day care sooner, and still don't have a nanny lined up. It's the second guessing coupled with the fear of the unknown.
So, this has been kind of a downer post, but I'm sorting through my feelings in real time here.
If asked what I need from you, my 3 faithful readers, the answer is I need you to listen and validate my feelings. And if you have any insights, I'll take those too. Stories of how you missed your own child's illness or even stories of how you caught it early and then the kid puked in the waiting room are also good.
Oh, and I still feel very lucky. Very, very lucky. I am acutely aware that if we were in a different economic position, a chronic illness (or speech therapy) could very well bankrupt us (do you have any idea how much unicorns charge for their services?). If we were in a different time, some of these illnesses could have proved fatal to Bobo (if he had even survived birth with the whole placenta previa thing). So, yes, I am going to play the lottery again tomorrow. Somebody's gonna Lotto...might as well be me.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Unicorns, Water Sprites, and Speech-Language Pathologists with Openings
What are things that don't exist, Alex?
Anyway, I couldn't get Bobo a speech therapist. I am on the waiting list. I ended up getting him a developmental therapist with some experience with speech issues. I am on 7 waiting lists. The earliest opening is in 2-3 months.
Chuckles graduated from kindergarten tonight. It was cute and disorganized, and I did not cry one single tear the entire time. Even though I had cried intermittently the entire day.
Because Bobo is sick. Again. And badly. He just got over thrush. For gosh sake's my 18 month old contracted thrush, an opportunistic infection if ever there was one. He has subacute strep bacteria in his throat. They took a variety of cultures from him (ear cultures are pretty gross, for the record). He's sick. Again and we're going to do antibody studies because it sounds like Bobo has primary immunodeficiency. Which I am not googling. Any more. He gets sick with opportunistic infections. Ear tubes have meant that instead of being on oral antibiotics constantly, he's now on antibiotic ear drops and eye drops every other week. Our pediatrician told us in no uncertain terms that Bobo needs to leave day care for at least 6 weeks so he can be healthy enough for some of the tests. It's hard to do antibody studies when you have an active infection.
I'm a wreck. I had made my peace with our day care. I liked it plenty. Chuckles flourished there. But Bobo is not Chuckles. Every child is different. Don't compare your kids. And CHuckles just graduated. So, we're getting a nanny. On Monday. Mind you, I don't have a nanny picked out, but Bobo can't go back, so I don't know what I am doing. The grandparents are not willing to be stop-gap childcare for us. I could take vacation or something. I don't know. The pediatrician said he can't write us out on FMLA for this. We just need a week. TOmorrow, I am calling nannies and interviewing them this weekend with a Target Date of June 1st.
So, I'm crying and I think I totally missed all of Chuckles's graduation because unbeknownst (is that spelled right?) to me, Bobo had a 102-deg fever during the graduation. He's on antibiotics. Why did he spike a fever? And now he's in bed coughing. ANd I'm weeping and blogging. And crying. And not cute Bachelorette-style tears but the big snotty, puffy faced kind.
I have to go to bed now. I'm sure I'll get sleep...not. Good night.
Anyway, I couldn't get Bobo a speech therapist. I am on the waiting list. I ended up getting him a developmental therapist with some experience with speech issues. I am on 7 waiting lists. The earliest opening is in 2-3 months.
Chuckles graduated from kindergarten tonight. It was cute and disorganized, and I did not cry one single tear the entire time. Even though I had cried intermittently the entire day.
Because Bobo is sick. Again. And badly. He just got over thrush. For gosh sake's my 18 month old contracted thrush, an opportunistic infection if ever there was one. He has subacute strep bacteria in his throat. They took a variety of cultures from him (ear cultures are pretty gross, for the record). He's sick. Again and we're going to do antibody studies because it sounds like Bobo has primary immunodeficiency. Which I am not googling. Any more. He gets sick with opportunistic infections. Ear tubes have meant that instead of being on oral antibiotics constantly, he's now on antibiotic ear drops and eye drops every other week. Our pediatrician told us in no uncertain terms that Bobo needs to leave day care for at least 6 weeks so he can be healthy enough for some of the tests. It's hard to do antibody studies when you have an active infection.
I'm a wreck. I had made my peace with our day care. I liked it plenty. Chuckles flourished there. But Bobo is not Chuckles. Every child is different. Don't compare your kids. And CHuckles just graduated. So, we're getting a nanny. On Monday. Mind you, I don't have a nanny picked out, but Bobo can't go back, so I don't know what I am doing. The grandparents are not willing to be stop-gap childcare for us. I could take vacation or something. I don't know. The pediatrician said he can't write us out on FMLA for this. We just need a week. TOmorrow, I am calling nannies and interviewing them this weekend with a Target Date of June 1st.
So, I'm crying and I think I totally missed all of Chuckles's graduation because unbeknownst (is that spelled right?) to me, Bobo had a 102-deg fever during the graduation. He's on antibiotics. Why did he spike a fever? And now he's in bed coughing. ANd I'm weeping and blogging. And crying. And not cute Bachelorette-style tears but the big snotty, puffy faced kind.
I have to go to bed now. I'm sure I'll get sleep...not. Good night.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Other Important News
I forgot to mention that my new vacuum cleaner is a Hoover WindTunnel Bagged (not self-propelled). This thing drags you around the room so I am really glad we opted to save the 50 bucks and not ge the self-propelled version.
Also, I am really sorry that I have been spelling vacuum wrong in these posts. I just like the double-c next to the double-u.
The deal at amazon is better than I got. I had to pay sales tax because I shopped at a store. So a 7% mark-up for the government. With free shipping and no tax, I'd say buy it from amazon (and buy it because it works)!
It does have some drawbacks like a dorky cord winding area that interferes with the on-board cleaning attachments, but if I need to access the attachments, chances are that it is plugged in anyway, so that's not a big deal.
I had the hose cover part C issue that some reviewers at amazon mentioned. It has not been a big deal yet but I haven't used the attachments much (should vacuum couch...need to find spare change).
All-in-all, a good vacuum so far. My previous Hoover is still going strong at 12 years old, but I don't vacuum often so it's lightly used. I bought a new one because the technology has gotten better and we have a multi-floor house so I moved out old vacuum to the lower level and the Panasonic we were using there can go to the garage for the cars (instead of dragging the Shop Vac out there from the basement).
Also, I am really sorry that I have been spelling vacuum wrong in these posts. I just like the double-c next to the double-u.
The deal at amazon is better than I got. I had to pay sales tax because I shopped at a store. So a 7% mark-up for the government. With free shipping and no tax, I'd say buy it from amazon (and buy it because it works)!
It does have some drawbacks like a dorky cord winding area that interferes with the on-board cleaning attachments, but if I need to access the attachments, chances are that it is plugged in anyway, so that's not a big deal.
I had the hose cover part C issue that some reviewers at amazon mentioned. It has not been a big deal yet but I haven't used the attachments much (should vacuum couch...need to find spare change).
All-in-all, a good vacuum so far. My previous Hoover is still going strong at 12 years old, but I don't vacuum often so it's lightly used. I bought a new one because the technology has gotten better and we have a multi-floor house so I moved out old vacuum to the lower level and the Panasonic we were using there can go to the garage for the cars (instead of dragging the Shop Vac out there from the basement).
The Evaluation
We had our evaluation with the county early intervention people yesterday. They looked at Bobo as a whole child. They evealuated fine and gross motor skills, social/emotional Bobo, and silent Bob.
So, some nuggets:
Bobo thinks, "This is the best thing EVER! Two, 2, TWO pretty ladies came to my house with the express purpose of playing with me. Me! Not my brother but me! And I got to eat cinnamon goldsifh crackers to show up my pincer grip. They played with me! I got to throw a balloon and kick and smile and charm. Uninterrupted attention. Yippee. What else can I mess up to get more of this?"
Dina and Kate were wonderful with him. One of them was a behavioral therapist and the other was a speech-language pathologist. They banged a drum and played a mimicking game (wherein he did not mimic any sounds). They read him a story. They stacked blocks, watched him eat, played Duplos, rolled cars, etc. He got to point to body parts and do the hand motions to "The Wheels on the Bus".
He screamed like a pteradactyl. He said, "oh oh", which is like "uh oh" but even less. He said, "Muh" while signing for more. He said, "Gah" while pointing at a wooden cat. He smiled. He charmed. He was delighted. He failed his expressive language portion of the exam. Pretty spectacularly.
Our Wednesday meeting has not been canceled which means Bobo qualifies for services, so today, like the good little mommy I am, I started calling speech-language pathologists and getting put on fricken waiting lists because OMG, there are no SLPs with openings. There are a few who work in the schools and have summer openings, but then I am right back here in August. Two of the SLPs told me they have kids in their programs turning 3 in September or October and I can get in then. I even tried going to the self-pay play clinic. They have no openings, and we're on their waiting list. So, then I started calling behavioral therapists with bachelors degrees in speech/language (and Masters Degrees in whatever). I left several messages. I called 7 SLPs/BTs and no one has any openings. I guess I will keep calling because it is that important. Note to all of you: get training and certification in SLP...you'll never be unemployed.
I don't think I have anything else to say except Chuckles is graduating from kindergarten on Thursday and his Jostens cap and gown came home yesterday and I started tearing up. Stupid mom.
So, some nuggets:
Bobo thinks, "This is the best thing EVER! Two, 2, TWO pretty ladies came to my house with the express purpose of playing with me. Me! Not my brother but me! And I got to eat cinnamon goldsifh crackers to show up my pincer grip. They played with me! I got to throw a balloon and kick and smile and charm. Uninterrupted attention. Yippee. What else can I mess up to get more of this?"
Dina and Kate were wonderful with him. One of them was a behavioral therapist and the other was a speech-language pathologist. They banged a drum and played a mimicking game (wherein he did not mimic any sounds). They read him a story. They stacked blocks, watched him eat, played Duplos, rolled cars, etc. He got to point to body parts and do the hand motions to "The Wheels on the Bus".
He screamed like a pteradactyl. He said, "oh oh", which is like "uh oh" but even less. He said, "Muh" while signing for more. He said, "Gah" while pointing at a wooden cat. He smiled. He charmed. He was delighted. He failed his expressive language portion of the exam. Pretty spectacularly.
Our Wednesday meeting has not been canceled which means Bobo qualifies for services, so today, like the good little mommy I am, I started calling speech-language pathologists and getting put on fricken waiting lists because OMG, there are no SLPs with openings. There are a few who work in the schools and have summer openings, but then I am right back here in August. Two of the SLPs told me they have kids in their programs turning 3 in September or October and I can get in then. I even tried going to the self-pay play clinic. They have no openings, and we're on their waiting list. So, then I started calling behavioral therapists with bachelors degrees in speech/language (and Masters Degrees in whatever). I left several messages. I called 7 SLPs/BTs and no one has any openings. I guess I will keep calling because it is that important. Note to all of you: get training and certification in SLP...you'll never be unemployed.
I don't think I have anything else to say except Chuckles is graduating from kindergarten on Thursday and his Jostens cap and gown came home yesterday and I started tearing up. Stupid mom.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Fun New Game
Fun New Game: Let's play "Stomach Virus or Food Poisoning"?
Let's see. There were items to indicate that it was either food poisoning or a tummy bug. I'm not sure which, but I did spend 7 hours on the couch with intermittent consciousness. Which sounds like fun. Until you realize there was vomit involved. Good news? Children unaffected.
What else?
I would like to tell you the crazy that this Early Intervention is, but I don’t think I can fully capture it. Here goes:
We are doing the eval on Monday, but they won’t tell us then whether Bobo needs therapy. We need to wait for Wednesday’s review meeting. But the review meeting won’t take place if he doesn’t qualify for services. (So if you're real smart like me...like I, you can figure out what it means if your meeting isn't cancelled.)
So, if he doesn’t need therapy, they will cancel the Wed mtg after the Mon mtg. On Wednesday at the review meeting, we need to name the person we want to do the therapies (that we don't know until the meeting he needs).
So she told me to interview the therapists and have one (them?) picked out by Wednesday. So I am going through their resumes online right now. How do you pick someone? She told me to call and interview them. Most of them only work 9:30-3 M-F, so do I pick one who does evenings and weekends or someone with a lot of experience who might not be current on latest info or not energetic or someone young and inexperienced but playful?
Moving on....
Chuckles turned 5, and I did not die. I cannot believe I am the mother of a 5-year old. A 4-year sounds like a big toddler, a preschooler perhaps. But a 5-year old is a kid. A real-live person.
We threw a birthday party for him. 53 people came. There was a giant, inflatable thing in my backyard with a slide and obstacles and jumping areas. And it was awesome. We got 3 out of 6 grandparents to go into it. There was some rain. We had a campfire. And S'mores! There was my version of a pinata (a Trader Joe's bag on a pulley system in the front yard). There were kids and cake. And leftovers (which have been discarded, see also Food Poisoning, possible). How awesome would it be to give your entire family and all your friends food poisoning? The answer is not awesome at all. Only Mr. Long-Suffering, my dad, and I were sickened, so I think maybe we all just caught a bug.
Chuckles received too many toys, a gaggle of books, and enough clothes to rival any sorority sister. And, of course, he wants more. But he's being parented firmly but lovingly back into reality ("Are you kidding me? You cannot get a new toy/book. You just got a million new Zhu-Zhu pets/Transformers/cars/sprinklers.")
Bobo had the gall to smile at me the other night while awake at 1 am. Dang him! Dang him to heck! He and I spent a lovely lightning-filled evening together from 11 pm until 2am where every time I set him down he cried like the crib was made of lava. Then, in an act of quiet desperation, I called my husband (who was at work) and demanded to know where I had left the ibuprofen (sure, that sentence reads funny, but it was the middle of the night and when upright, the child was smiling at me. There is nothing more infuriating than that.) So, ibuprofen was administered and he was kept upright for the requisiste 15 minutes for it to kick in, and then, I laid him down. And I slept. Sweet baby Bobo, sleep is a glorious thing (especially when recovering from Vomit-Fest 2010).
Let's see. There were items to indicate that it was either food poisoning or a tummy bug. I'm not sure which, but I did spend 7 hours on the couch with intermittent consciousness. Which sounds like fun. Until you realize there was vomit involved. Good news? Children unaffected.
What else?
I would like to tell you the crazy that this Early Intervention is, but I don’t think I can fully capture it. Here goes:
We are doing the eval on Monday, but they won’t tell us then whether Bobo needs therapy. We need to wait for Wednesday’s review meeting. But the review meeting won’t take place if he doesn’t qualify for services. (So if you're real smart like me...like I, you can figure out what it means if your meeting isn't cancelled.)
So, if he doesn’t need therapy, they will cancel the Wed mtg after the Mon mtg. On Wednesday at the review meeting, we need to name the person we want to do the therapies (that we don't know until the meeting he needs).
So she told me to interview the therapists and have one (them?) picked out by Wednesday. So I am going through their resumes online right now. How do you pick someone? She told me to call and interview them. Most of them only work 9:30-3 M-F, so do I pick one who does evenings and weekends or someone with a lot of experience who might not be current on latest info or not energetic or someone young and inexperienced but playful?
Moving on....
Chuckles turned 5, and I did not die. I cannot believe I am the mother of a 5-year old. A 4-year sounds like a big toddler, a preschooler perhaps. But a 5-year old is a kid. A real-live person.
We threw a birthday party for him. 53 people came. There was a giant, inflatable thing in my backyard with a slide and obstacles and jumping areas. And it was awesome. We got 3 out of 6 grandparents to go into it. There was some rain. We had a campfire. And S'mores! There was my version of a pinata (a Trader Joe's bag on a pulley system in the front yard). There were kids and cake. And leftovers (which have been discarded, see also Food Poisoning, possible). How awesome would it be to give your entire family and all your friends food poisoning? The answer is not awesome at all. Only Mr. Long-Suffering, my dad, and I were sickened, so I think maybe we all just caught a bug.
Chuckles received too many toys, a gaggle of books, and enough clothes to rival any sorority sister. And, of course, he wants more. But he's being parented firmly but lovingly back into reality ("Are you kidding me? You cannot get a new toy/book. You just got a million new Zhu-Zhu pets/Transformers/cars/sprinklers.")
Bobo had the gall to smile at me the other night while awake at 1 am. Dang him! Dang him to heck! He and I spent a lovely lightning-filled evening together from 11 pm until 2am where every time I set him down he cried like the crib was made of lava. Then, in an act of quiet desperation, I called my husband (who was at work) and demanded to know where I had left the ibuprofen (sure, that sentence reads funny, but it was the middle of the night and when upright, the child was smiling at me. There is nothing more infuriating than that.) So, ibuprofen was administered and he was kept upright for the requisiste 15 minutes for it to kick in, and then, I laid him down. And I slept. Sweet baby Bobo, sleep is a glorious thing (especially when recovering from Vomit-Fest 2010).
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Squish Squish, Moo
I am deciding whether we should teach Bobo some sign language so he can tell us deep thoughts like: "I hate you for not feeding me chocolate teddy grahams and in protest, I will hurl this binky at your head." Actually, he doesn't need sign language for that. That one is pretty clear.
Anyway, while trying to find a print out chart of some easy signs I could teach him, I found a video thing and discovered that the sign for "milk" is the motion one would make while milking a cow with one hand. I find this disturbing. Probably because I used to be the cow.
Anyway, while trying to find a print out chart of some easy signs I could teach him, I found a video thing and discovered that the sign for "milk" is the motion one would make while milking a cow with one hand. I find this disturbing. Probably because I used to be the cow.
Mommy's Video Game
On Saturday morning, we arrived at Sears Appliance before they opened. When the clock struck 10 am, we entered and proceeded to spend money. We got a new vaccuum cleaner. I know! I am so excited because I am boring and a mom. But a new vaccuum.
On Sunday afternoon, it was all assembled and ready to go, so I vaccuumed the whole house. It has a little red light that shows you it's dirty, and the light turns green when the air being sucked in is no longer filthy. It's Mommy's New Video Game. Big Fun.
Also, I signed up for a cheap trial of XM radio, so I have video games and all the best of Hair Nation radio. Woo Woo!
On Sunday afternoon, it was all assembled and ready to go, so I vaccuumed the whole house. It has a little red light that shows you it's dirty, and the light turns green when the air being sucked in is no longer filthy. It's Mommy's New Video Game. Big Fun.
Also, I signed up for a cheap trial of XM radio, so I have video games and all the best of Hair Nation radio. Woo Woo!
Home Alone
Last Friday, I came home from work early for the Early Intervention meeting (some day, I'll probably be all like "EI this" and "ST that" but for now, I'm not down with the abbreviations like I am in TTC world). Anyway, I came home early for the EI intake appointment.
And Mr. Long-Suffering was already at home picking up and straightening so we wouldn't be embarrassed by our sloth. I got home before Linda the intake worker arrived, so we were home alone. We haven't been in our house sans enfants since January. It's a weird feeling. A free feeling. So, Mr. Long-Suffering comes out of the kitchen holding a Keebler Fudge Stripe cookie in one hand and a can of Redi-Whip in the other and makes an appetizer out of those two things and asks me if I want one. No KIDS. No KIDS. We can eat junk and not share and not pass down bad habits involving canned whipping cream.
And Mr. Long-Suffering was already at home picking up and straightening so we wouldn't be embarrassed by our sloth. I got home before Linda the intake worker arrived, so we were home alone. We haven't been in our house sans enfants since January. It's a weird feeling. A free feeling. So, Mr. Long-Suffering comes out of the kitchen holding a Keebler Fudge Stripe cookie in one hand and a can of Redi-Whip in the other and makes an appetizer out of those two things and asks me if I want one. No KIDS. No KIDS. We can eat junk and not share and not pass down bad habits involving canned whipping cream.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Adventures in E*Bay
I don't know how much of my biographical information I have given you, so here goes: I cannot gamble. Well, I can. I could. I did. But, you know I am so frugal. So, when I lose, I get angry with myself.
When I was in college, I got a summer internship in Michigan (shout out to my Tri-County area peeps who have flown in or out of MBS Airport). Anyway, this caused me to live near an Indian Reservation and Casino. I enjoyed it much. Until I realized I had been sitting at the same blackjack table for 17 consecturive hours with nothing to eat and only little tiny juice glasses of non-alcoholic beverage served by entirely too-clad Native American women. I was up $40. I was always up. I never walked out of that casino with less money than I had going in, but it took all fricken day to earn $40. You see, I couldn't see my way to gamble more than $3 on any single hand of blackjack (splitting and doubling down, excepted). And time is money. But I was, perhaps, a wee bit compulsive.
Fast-forward to now. I work 90 yards from a casino into which I have never stepped foot (except the rare luncheon at the restaurant with coworkers). I've never gone into the casino part. Because I don't know whether I would be able to leave.
Did I also mention that I am a competitive jerk with a perfectionist complex? Oh yes, it's great fun to be seated at the table with me as I stack my chips into completely neat and symmetrical piles of only matching (or patterns!) colors.
So, it should not surprise you that I cannot go on ebay.
It all started on Easter. We had dinner here at our house. Mr. Long-Suffering washed dishes and broke one of my Waterford crystal flutes (two swans in the shape of a heart on the side). Anyway, I told him not to worry and I went to replacements.com Well, they wanted over a hundred dollars for one stinking flute. I am way too cheap for that, so I went to e*bay and they had a ton. I bid on a few and lost. Once I saw a price pattern developing, I realized I could win some. So I ended up bidding on something like 34 Waterford crystal champagne flutes. I won 3 pairs (6 glasses). None of which are the actual glass Mr. L-S broke. I say I had been planning on getting a few more flutes anyway. Which is true. But I was not going to do it this year. Oh well. It's done.
And that all would have been fine because I realized I now have enough crystal and I stopped bidding (because I have super self-control). But then I went back to leave feedback for my sellers. I can't believe I gave 5 stars to the guy who wrapped the glasses in scrap from his papershredder tainted with glitter, but I did. The glasses didn't break in transit but I nearly drove to the return address and dropped glitter all over his living room.
Anway, while leaving all this positive feedback lovefest, I noticed that there are people selling "Envelopes". Why in the world would you buy an envelope on e*bay? Because the people fill the envelopes with formula checks and coupons. Of course, you aren't allowed to sell those, so the people put the envelopes up on e*bay and send the coupons in the envelope as a free gift. Anyway, Bobo is 17-months old and still on formula (and soy milk) so I looked into it and turned into a competitive jerk. So, I closed the browser down and decided to come here and tell all. That is all. I have already spent an unholy amount of money this month and I don't need to be hanging out on e*bay wasting my time and money any longer.
Today was the intake appointment with the Early Intervention people. The date of the evaluation has been set as has the day for the review of the Action Plan. Those two meetings are 36 hours apart. The assessment was scheduled close to the deadline, so we're having the review on the deadline date. It's all so strange and weird. They want to know whether you'd like to apply for assistance. You get subsidized services if you make under $228,000 per year. So, uhhh, yes, I would like to apply for that but isn't that just my tax dollars coming back to me? Anyway, that's what is going on here.
I am a compulsive, competitive jerk. And Bobo still doesn't talk.
And Chuckles is turning into a master manipulator. Master. "Mommy, if I be your good helper all week, could I have a treat like a toy?"
When I was in college, I got a summer internship in Michigan (shout out to my Tri-County area peeps who have flown in or out of MBS Airport). Anyway, this caused me to live near an Indian Reservation and Casino. I enjoyed it much. Until I realized I had been sitting at the same blackjack table for 17 consecturive hours with nothing to eat and only little tiny juice glasses of non-alcoholic beverage served by entirely too-clad Native American women. I was up $40. I was always up. I never walked out of that casino with less money than I had going in, but it took all fricken day to earn $40. You see, I couldn't see my way to gamble more than $3 on any single hand of blackjack (splitting and doubling down, excepted). And time is money. But I was, perhaps, a wee bit compulsive.
Fast-forward to now. I work 90 yards from a casino into which I have never stepped foot (except the rare luncheon at the restaurant with coworkers). I've never gone into the casino part. Because I don't know whether I would be able to leave.
Did I also mention that I am a competitive jerk with a perfectionist complex? Oh yes, it's great fun to be seated at the table with me as I stack my chips into completely neat and symmetrical piles of only matching (or patterns!) colors.
So, it should not surprise you that I cannot go on ebay.
It all started on Easter. We had dinner here at our house. Mr. Long-Suffering washed dishes and broke one of my Waterford crystal flutes (two swans in the shape of a heart on the side). Anyway, I told him not to worry and I went to replacements.com Well, they wanted over a hundred dollars for one stinking flute. I am way too cheap for that, so I went to e*bay and they had a ton. I bid on a few and lost. Once I saw a price pattern developing, I realized I could win some. So I ended up bidding on something like 34 Waterford crystal champagne flutes. I won 3 pairs (6 glasses). None of which are the actual glass Mr. L-S broke. I say I had been planning on getting a few more flutes anyway. Which is true. But I was not going to do it this year. Oh well. It's done.
And that all would have been fine because I realized I now have enough crystal and I stopped bidding (because I have super self-control). But then I went back to leave feedback for my sellers. I can't believe I gave 5 stars to the guy who wrapped the glasses in scrap from his papershredder tainted with glitter, but I did. The glasses didn't break in transit but I nearly drove to the return address and dropped glitter all over his living room.
Anway, while leaving all this positive feedback lovefest, I noticed that there are people selling "Envelopes". Why in the world would you buy an envelope on e*bay? Because the people fill the envelopes with formula checks and coupons. Of course, you aren't allowed to sell those, so the people put the envelopes up on e*bay and send the coupons in the envelope as a free gift. Anyway, Bobo is 17-months old and still on formula (and soy milk) so I looked into it and turned into a competitive jerk. So, I closed the browser down and decided to come here and tell all. That is all. I have already spent an unholy amount of money this month and I don't need to be hanging out on e*bay wasting my time and money any longer.
Today was the intake appointment with the Early Intervention people. The date of the evaluation has been set as has the day for the review of the Action Plan. Those two meetings are 36 hours apart. The assessment was scheduled close to the deadline, so we're having the review on the deadline date. It's all so strange and weird. They want to know whether you'd like to apply for assistance. You get subsidized services if you make under $228,000 per year. So, uhhh, yes, I would like to apply for that but isn't that just my tax dollars coming back to me? Anyway, that's what is going on here.
I am a compulsive, competitive jerk. And Bobo still doesn't talk.
And Chuckles is turning into a master manipulator. Master. "Mommy, if I be your good helper all week, could I have a treat like a toy?"
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
There is Much That Needs to Be Said
Well, actually, there is not. But that will not stop me. I will not be deterred.
Chuckles contracted strep throat which sent us to Urgent Care on Thursday night. He ws a sobbing, mommy-loving, whimpering mess. I knew things were bad when he didn't want to eat his bribe, errr, medicinal rich, chocolate frostie from Wendy's. I wish I had followed my mommy instincts and brought him in on Wednesday but a kid with a sore throat and a 99-degree "fever" is not really something that would send most people to the doctor. Of course, most people have not memorized the vacation schedule for the pediatrician's office.
Friday I went to the pediatrician with Bobo for his M-CHAT. We're off of high alert for autism for the time being. We're going for a speech-language pathology work-up thing with the county's early intervention. This could wind up in speech therapy. That would be super. While Bobo and I were out having our one-on-one time at the Ped, the grandmas were at home with Chip.
When I returned from work Friday and gave Chuckles a bath, I noticed a rash. Friday evening is the worst time to discover anything wrong with your child because the on-call schedule has no pediatrician on Friday evening (Christmas, yes...Friday night, no). Anyway, a call to the on-call nurse and doctor and a new script for a different antibiotic was called in, but I didn't fill it.
I waited for Saturday to come around. I walked past the pharmacy on our way to see our pediatrician who was on-call on Saturday. The rash was Scarlet Fever. Really? Really? Who develops Scarlet Fever after already being on antibiotics for strep throat? Who does? Chuckles. That is who. So, I swung by the pharmacy to let them know I wouldn't be filling the script for amoxicillin that was called in Friday night. They mixed it with the water when I walked in the door figuring I was going to pick it up. Pink stuff, wasted. Oh well.
So, how frequent of a flyer do you have to be for the pharmacy staff to recognize you?
Anway, Easter was grand. The Bunny brought new Binkies for Bobo and a Transformer and underpants for Chip. There was a restrained amount of candy and the Grandmas kept themselves under control on the basket front as well. And my BFF gave the kdis Easter Bags and they were just so very very happy about it. It turns out Bobo has a mad love affair with crayons. Mad, I tell you. Give the kid a pen and some paper in the waiting room and he's amused for a good 15 minutes. Also, let him play in the sink in the exam room...another 15 minutes. And then, only another 40 minutes of waiting time to fill. I kid...it was only 37 minutes more.
Chuckles contracted strep throat which sent us to Urgent Care on Thursday night. He ws a sobbing, mommy-loving, whimpering mess. I knew things were bad when he didn't want to eat his bribe, errr, medicinal rich, chocolate frostie from Wendy's. I wish I had followed my mommy instincts and brought him in on Wednesday but a kid with a sore throat and a 99-degree "fever" is not really something that would send most people to the doctor. Of course, most people have not memorized the vacation schedule for the pediatrician's office.
Friday I went to the pediatrician with Bobo for his M-CHAT. We're off of high alert for autism for the time being. We're going for a speech-language pathology work-up thing with the county's early intervention. This could wind up in speech therapy. That would be super. While Bobo and I were out having our one-on-one time at the Ped, the grandmas were at home with Chip.
When I returned from work Friday and gave Chuckles a bath, I noticed a rash. Friday evening is the worst time to discover anything wrong with your child because the on-call schedule has no pediatrician on Friday evening (Christmas, yes...Friday night, no). Anyway, a call to the on-call nurse and doctor and a new script for a different antibiotic was called in, but I didn't fill it.
I waited for Saturday to come around. I walked past the pharmacy on our way to see our pediatrician who was on-call on Saturday. The rash was Scarlet Fever. Really? Really? Who develops Scarlet Fever after already being on antibiotics for strep throat? Who does? Chuckles. That is who. So, I swung by the pharmacy to let them know I wouldn't be filling the script for amoxicillin that was called in Friday night. They mixed it with the water when I walked in the door figuring I was going to pick it up. Pink stuff, wasted. Oh well.
So, how frequent of a flyer do you have to be for the pharmacy staff to recognize you?
Anway, Easter was grand. The Bunny brought new Binkies for Bobo and a Transformer and underpants for Chip. There was a restrained amount of candy and the Grandmas kept themselves under control on the basket front as well. And my BFF gave the kdis Easter Bags and they were just so very very happy about it. It turns out Bobo has a mad love affair with crayons. Mad, I tell you. Give the kid a pen and some paper in the waiting room and he's amused for a good 15 minutes. Also, let him play in the sink in the exam room...another 15 minutes. And then, only another 40 minutes of waiting time to fill. I kid...it was only 37 minutes more.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
I believe in Latin, they call it "errata"
Anyway, I bought a new bathing suit at Costco because I hadn't gotten a new one (that wasn't maternity) in a while. It's nice. I bought a suit without trying it on first. It's a tankini with a modest brief bottom. I'm thinking of getting my first ever bikini wax. Good idea or Epic Fail? Opinions welcome. Did I mention that the Mirena is making me less estrogen-rich so I have extra hair? Please factor this in to your decision both on a grooming and pain front.
Bobo had his hearing test. The good news is: He's not completely deaf. The neutral news: It's really hard to test an uncooperative 17-month old. The bad news: There might be some hearing loss but it's inconclusive at this time. M-CHAT next Friday.
In other Bobo news: he said "ITE" which I am pretty sure meant (dome) light. So, he speaks. I think. Probably. It must be more than a coincidence.
In Chuckles news:
Last weekend, Chuckles sat on my lap (while I was trying to work) and dictated an email to the Easter Bunny which I dutifully recorded here and saved as a DRAFT. Here I am providing it to you in its entirety.
++++++++++++++++++
Dear Easter Bunny,
I have been very good since Christmas. I promise to keep my underpants dry and put all of my pee in the toilet. I will not wait until some drops of pee come out first before I go. ALL of my pee will go in the potty.
I would like
Bumblebee
Sentinel Prime
Or any other Transformers you think I would like, Easter Bunny.
I would also like some candy since I have been good.
I want you to know that I love you, Easter Bunny. My brother has been good and he should get something too.
Love,
Chuckles Jay Long-Suffering
++++++++++++++++++++++++
Chuckles just started to read last weekend and now no one is safe. Every sign, every billboard, every time I say c-a-n-d-y or c-o-o-k-i-e is now subjected to phonics and me being caught. Must become better person, pronto!
Have I mentioned that Bobo is really smart? I think in all my talk about his various and sundry routine medical issues, I have not captured his essence enough. He is really bright. And not in the my-child-is-a-genius sense, but in the totally objective opinion of outside observers like his grandparents and doctors. OK, so maybe his grandparents aren't he most impartial observers.
Anyway, three quick stories to illustrate my point.
My sister-in-law and her almost-one-year old were over. She was feeding her son and Bobo watermelon chunks. Bobo was wandering around and periodically grazing. My nephew was in the high chair. He swung his head from side-to-side and she asked him if he was all done. Bobo came over, got the tupperware lid, put it on the tupperware (on the table over his head), walked over to the fridge, opened the door (with help), put it on the shelf, slid it back while doing that adorable toddler crouching thing, then closed the refrigerator door. All done, indeed.
The other day, Bobo was in his high chair and looking out our kitchen window toward our backyard. As soon as he was let down, he walked to the front door, got his shoes and sat on the steps to be shoed. Shoes were placed on his feet by bewildered parents. He then stood by the door. Patiently waiting. The door was opened and he went outside. He proceeded to walk around the house to the backyard and pointed at the baby swing on the swingset. Boy wanted to go swinging. So, for the M-CHAT question about whether you child is able to communicate his desires, I think I'll answer "yes".
During his hearing test, one of the audiologists sat in the booth with him trying to get him to look forward so they could gauge whether he turned his head toward the sounds at his sides as opposed to just looking around. At one point, she put an elephant puppet on her hand. He is the first child in their combined experience to lift the puppet up to find the audiologist's hand. Of course, he was more interested in the missing hand than in the noise that just came out of speaker-left.
Bobo had his hearing test. The good news is: He's not completely deaf. The neutral news: It's really hard to test an uncooperative 17-month old. The bad news: There might be some hearing loss but it's inconclusive at this time. M-CHAT next Friday.
In other Bobo news: he said "ITE" which I am pretty sure meant (dome) light. So, he speaks. I think. Probably. It must be more than a coincidence.
In Chuckles news:
Last weekend, Chuckles sat on my lap (while I was trying to work) and dictated an email to the Easter Bunny which I dutifully recorded here and saved as a DRAFT. Here I am providing it to you in its entirety.
++++++++++++++++++
Dear Easter Bunny,
I have been very good since Christmas. I promise to keep my underpants dry and put all of my pee in the toilet. I will not wait until some drops of pee come out first before I go. ALL of my pee will go in the potty.
I would like
Bumblebee
Sentinel Prime
Or any other Transformers you think I would like, Easter Bunny.
I would also like some candy since I have been good.
I want you to know that I love you, Easter Bunny. My brother has been good and he should get something too.
Love,
Chuckles Jay Long-Suffering
++++++++++++++++++++++++
Chuckles just started to read last weekend and now no one is safe. Every sign, every billboard, every time I say c-a-n-d-y or c-o-o-k-i-e is now subjected to phonics and me being caught. Must become better person, pronto!
Have I mentioned that Bobo is really smart? I think in all my talk about his various and sundry routine medical issues, I have not captured his essence enough. He is really bright. And not in the my-child-is-a-genius sense, but in the totally objective opinion of outside observers like his grandparents and doctors. OK, so maybe his grandparents aren't he most impartial observers.
Anyway, three quick stories to illustrate my point.
My sister-in-law and her almost-one-year old were over. She was feeding her son and Bobo watermelon chunks. Bobo was wandering around and periodically grazing. My nephew was in the high chair. He swung his head from side-to-side and she asked him if he was all done. Bobo came over, got the tupperware lid, put it on the tupperware (on the table over his head), walked over to the fridge, opened the door (with help), put it on the shelf, slid it back while doing that adorable toddler crouching thing, then closed the refrigerator door. All done, indeed.
The other day, Bobo was in his high chair and looking out our kitchen window toward our backyard. As soon as he was let down, he walked to the front door, got his shoes and sat on the steps to be shoed. Shoes were placed on his feet by bewildered parents. He then stood by the door. Patiently waiting. The door was opened and he went outside. He proceeded to walk around the house to the backyard and pointed at the baby swing on the swingset. Boy wanted to go swinging. So, for the M-CHAT question about whether you child is able to communicate his desires, I think I'll answer "yes".
During his hearing test, one of the audiologists sat in the booth with him trying to get him to look forward so they could gauge whether he turned his head toward the sounds at his sides as opposed to just looking around. At one point, she put an elephant puppet on her hand. He is the first child in their combined experience to lift the puppet up to find the audiologist's hand. Of course, he was more interested in the missing hand than in the noise that just came out of speaker-left.
Friday, March 26, 2010
This Loss is Your Gain
I was over at Julia's Blog trying to post a comment about a drunken escapade, but the comment functionality wasn't working, so I've copied my comment here. Their loss is your gain.
I was about 4 months pregnant with my first when we had to fly to DC for the wedding of one of dummy dope's friends. He was an usher in the wedding. Our rental car was missing and they assigned us a minivan that I had to drive out to Tysons Corners without a map.
Anyway, after the wedding came the reception as was the custom in my day. They had an amazing open bar at the reception (of which I could not partake). The lot of them got drunk and as the designated driver, I was in charge of getting our group back to the hotel.
I got them in to the parking garage which was supposed to close 15 minutes after the end of the reception. One woman who was having her first night out wihtout the baby evening started laughing at midnight and didn't shut up for an hour.
One enebriated woman started laughing at woman #1 and then couldn't stop. It was hilarity solidarity.
One guy wandered off of the elevator in the parking garage and onto a level where the lights were off. THe doors closed before we could get him back in the elevator and by the time we got back down there he had wandered quite a distance away and perilously close to the edge. All the while the giggle twins were laughing.
My husband wanted to find the minivan but couldn't figure out where it was and which key worked (fortunately none of them since I had confiscated the keys). I eventually got all of them in the mini-van. None of them were sober enough to figure out how to flip-n-fold the seats to get to the third row, so the skinniest of them (who were not necessarily the most sober) decided to go over the top of the middle row seat. And the giggle twins just kept laughing.
At this point I had been awake for 20 hours and was experiencing a wee bit of pregnancy narcolepsy. I have no idea how many people were in the minivan (8, maybe) and I'm driving in DC without a map but it's OK because one of the groomsmen tells me he know the way back to the hotel. Well, he's leaning up against this tiny little minivan window trying to figure out whether he could vomit through a straw and get it out the window. (answer: no)
I got them all back. I left giggle twin #1 in her dress in the bath tub of her hotel room with her husband fixated on finding the ice machine so he could make high ball cocktails.
Giggle twin #2 was left without her dress in her bed with the garbage can at bedside just in case. Her husband was on the bathroom floor.
My husband was trying to help husband #1 find ice but not for high balls. He wanted an Old Fashioned. A brrrrraaaaaandy Old Fashioned.
And the guy with the straw couldn't remember his room number so I had to take him and his wife to the front desk to get a new key for them.
The next morning at the free breakfast buffet, I was happily having my revenge as I kept offering people greasy bacon with orange juice, biscuits and gravy, drippy chunks of watermelon, etc. I haven't laughed that much in years.
I was about 4 months pregnant with my first when we had to fly to DC for the wedding of one of dummy dope's friends. He was an usher in the wedding. Our rental car was missing and they assigned us a minivan that I had to drive out to Tysons Corners without a map.
Anyway, after the wedding came the reception as was the custom in my day. They had an amazing open bar at the reception (of which I could not partake). The lot of them got drunk and as the designated driver, I was in charge of getting our group back to the hotel.
I got them in to the parking garage which was supposed to close 15 minutes after the end of the reception. One woman who was having her first night out wihtout the baby evening started laughing at midnight and didn't shut up for an hour.
One enebriated woman started laughing at woman #1 and then couldn't stop. It was hilarity solidarity.
One guy wandered off of the elevator in the parking garage and onto a level where the lights were off. THe doors closed before we could get him back in the elevator and by the time we got back down there he had wandered quite a distance away and perilously close to the edge. All the while the giggle twins were laughing.
My husband wanted to find the minivan but couldn't figure out where it was and which key worked (fortunately none of them since I had confiscated the keys). I eventually got all of them in the mini-van. None of them were sober enough to figure out how to flip-n-fold the seats to get to the third row, so the skinniest of them (who were not necessarily the most sober) decided to go over the top of the middle row seat. And the giggle twins just kept laughing.
At this point I had been awake for 20 hours and was experiencing a wee bit of pregnancy narcolepsy. I have no idea how many people were in the minivan (8, maybe) and I'm driving in DC without a map but it's OK because one of the groomsmen tells me he know the way back to the hotel. Well, he's leaning up against this tiny little minivan window trying to figure out whether he could vomit through a straw and get it out the window. (answer: no)
I got them all back. I left giggle twin #1 in her dress in the bath tub of her hotel room with her husband fixated on finding the ice machine so he could make high ball cocktails.
Giggle twin #2 was left without her dress in her bed with the garbage can at bedside just in case. Her husband was on the bathroom floor.
My husband was trying to help husband #1 find ice but not for high balls. He wanted an Old Fashioned. A brrrrraaaaaandy Old Fashioned.
And the guy with the straw couldn't remember his room number so I had to take him and his wife to the front desk to get a new key for them.
The next morning at the free breakfast buffet, I was happily having my revenge as I kept offering people greasy bacon with orange juice, biscuits and gravy, drippy chunks of watermelon, etc. I haven't laughed that much in years.
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