Man, yesterday was A Day. It started out promisingly enough...I apparently got up when my alarm went off and reset it to a wholly unacceptable wake-up time, and then W woke up and started screaming to be let out of his room the second I set foot in the shower.
After getting W out of his room, setting him up with a sippy of milk and some toddler TV, and getting my hair and make-up done, I went to get R up. When I opened his door, his room smelled, so I assumed he pooped overnight. I was wrong. I went to pick him up, and he (and his crib. And room) was covered in barf. Awesome.
I got R cleaned up and called in to work. I was hoping it was just something he ate last night, but he quickly came down with a fever and threw up several more times. He also started screaming every time I put him down. Awesome.
I was fighting my way through the morning with the assistance of Sprout, though it wasn't working too well. W still wanted my undivided attention, and didn't seem to understand the whole "R feels yucky and needs to sit on Mommy's lap" line of reasoning.
I then headed to the bathroom only to discover that I started my period. Yup, after 636 days without a visit from my lovely Aunt Flo, she decided to make an appearance this day. And she has made her appearance with a vengeance. Awesome.
As I was trying to beg clear liquids off of my lovely neighbor, Michelle, she suggested I call the doctor's office because some really nasty bugs are going around. So I did. And they wanted to see us fairly soon. In a city a half an hour away.
Quick aside: keeping nothing but milk, Diet Coke, and booze in the house doesn't work so well when you have a kid with a stomach bug.
In the middle of all my rushing around to get the boys and myself ready to go, the freaking tornado sirens go off. I decided to ignore them because I don't have time to go hide out in the basement. I switch on the weather (amid screams because I turned off Caillou) and discovered that we would be driving directly into the storm to get to the doctor's office. Awesome.
I ended up getting lucky and didn't have to drive through all the crap. About halfway to the doctor's office, however, I realized that we were solidly into the lunch hour and I hadn't fed the toddler. I also realized that the baggie of cheerios and the single pack of fruit snacks in my diaper bag weren't going to substitute for lunch. So, I do what any good mother would do and pull into the nearest McDonald's. While there, I get stuck in a non-moving drive-through line. By the time enough people leave so I can also leave, I've spent more time than I had sitting in line. Nothing is happening, so I take off. On the way past one of the service windows - which, coincidentally, you can't even remotely see from the ordering place - I see a sign that says "Sorry no power." The stop light right in front of the restaurant had power, so I never gave a thought to why the line wasn't moving. Luckily for me, W was asleep by the time we got back on the road, so I wouldn't have to worry about feeding him until later.
We continue on to the doctor, naturally arriving late. I find out as we're being ushered into the exam room that we have the doctor who is nice, but always makes me feel like an idiot for bringing my kid in for an exam. Case in point: after a couple of weeks of the daycare ladies mentioning to me that R was pulling at his ear (which he was doing because he was teething), I take him to the Saturday morning walk-in clinic for a check. I figure it's from teething, but there's a remote possibility that it's an ear infection, and I know daycare will get off my back if the doc says no ear infection. I tell this doc when he walks in that R either has an ear infection or is teething. Two minutes later, R is diagnosed with teething pain, and I'm given a slightly condescending chat about the signs of ear infections. I know the signs of ear infections. He knows I know the signs of ear infections. I have two kids who both had chronic ear infections and both have tubes. Additionally, because they both have tubes, when they get infections these days, goop leaks out of their ears.
Anywho, R is examined and is diagnosed with a stomach bug. But not before the doc makes me feel like an ass for bringing him in, even though IT WAS A NURSE AT HIS PRACTICE WHO TOLD ME TO BRING R IN. We're sent home with instructions to take it easy on the food and wait it out.
By the time we make it home, we're most of the way through nap time. W slept for a total of 20 minutes in the car and had no interest in going back down. R slept for maybe 40 minutes and needed far more, but woke up every time I even thought about putting him down. It was at this point that B came home. And the angels sang.
Things generally improved after that. I took W to the store to pick up some motrin for R, and we about had a serious meltdown situation, but that was it. Thankfully. It was just one of those days, and I'm so glad it's over.
After getting W out of his room, setting him up with a sippy of milk and some toddler TV, and getting my hair and make-up done, I went to get R up. When I opened his door, his room smelled, so I assumed he pooped overnight. I was wrong. I went to pick him up, and he (and his crib. And room) was covered in barf. Awesome.
I got R cleaned up and called in to work. I was hoping it was just something he ate last night, but he quickly came down with a fever and threw up several more times. He also started screaming every time I put him down. Awesome.
I was fighting my way through the morning with the assistance of Sprout, though it wasn't working too well. W still wanted my undivided attention, and didn't seem to understand the whole "R feels yucky and needs to sit on Mommy's lap" line of reasoning.
I then headed to the bathroom only to discover that I started my period. Yup, after 636 days without a visit from my lovely Aunt Flo, she decided to make an appearance this day. And she has made her appearance with a vengeance. Awesome.
As I was trying to beg clear liquids off of my lovely neighbor, Michelle, she suggested I call the doctor's office because some really nasty bugs are going around. So I did. And they wanted to see us fairly soon. In a city a half an hour away.
Quick aside: keeping nothing but milk, Diet Coke, and booze in the house doesn't work so well when you have a kid with a stomach bug.
In the middle of all my rushing around to get the boys and myself ready to go, the freaking tornado sirens go off. I decided to ignore them because I don't have time to go hide out in the basement. I switch on the weather (amid screams because I turned off Caillou) and discovered that we would be driving directly into the storm to get to the doctor's office. Awesome.
I ended up getting lucky and didn't have to drive through all the crap. About halfway to the doctor's office, however, I realized that we were solidly into the lunch hour and I hadn't fed the toddler. I also realized that the baggie of cheerios and the single pack of fruit snacks in my diaper bag weren't going to substitute for lunch. So, I do what any good mother would do and pull into the nearest McDonald's. While there, I get stuck in a non-moving drive-through line. By the time enough people leave so I can also leave, I've spent more time than I had sitting in line. Nothing is happening, so I take off. On the way past one of the service windows - which, coincidentally, you can't even remotely see from the ordering place - I see a sign that says "Sorry no power." The stop light right in front of the restaurant had power, so I never gave a thought to why the line wasn't moving. Luckily for me, W was asleep by the time we got back on the road, so I wouldn't have to worry about feeding him until later.
We continue on to the doctor, naturally arriving late. I find out as we're being ushered into the exam room that we have the doctor who is nice, but always makes me feel like an idiot for bringing my kid in for an exam. Case in point: after a couple of weeks of the daycare ladies mentioning to me that R was pulling at his ear (which he was doing because he was teething), I take him to the Saturday morning walk-in clinic for a check. I figure it's from teething, but there's a remote possibility that it's an ear infection, and I know daycare will get off my back if the doc says no ear infection. I tell this doc when he walks in that R either has an ear infection or is teething. Two minutes later, R is diagnosed with teething pain, and I'm given a slightly condescending chat about the signs of ear infections. I know the signs of ear infections. He knows I know the signs of ear infections. I have two kids who both had chronic ear infections and both have tubes. Additionally, because they both have tubes, when they get infections these days, goop leaks out of their ears.
Anywho, R is examined and is diagnosed with a stomach bug. But not before the doc makes me feel like an ass for bringing him in, even though IT WAS A NURSE AT HIS PRACTICE WHO TOLD ME TO BRING R IN. We're sent home with instructions to take it easy on the food and wait it out.
By the time we make it home, we're most of the way through nap time. W slept for a total of 20 minutes in the car and had no interest in going back down. R slept for maybe 40 minutes and needed far more, but woke up every time I even thought about putting him down. It was at this point that B came home. And the angels sang.
Things generally improved after that. I took W to the store to pick up some motrin for R, and we about had a serious meltdown situation, but that was it. Thankfully. It was just one of those days, and I'm so glad it's over.
No comments:
Post a Comment