My Cat Could Write a Better Title
So my cat Thurman sat on my keyboard and began this post with "llllllllllllllnnnnnnnnn," but I erased it in favor of something more eloquent. Although now that I have, I can't really think of a better opener.*
*I mean, if your name is Ellen, my cat's opener is actually pretty awesome.
I think part of the reason I can't come up with anything is because my brain is still on the edge of a turkey-(and-other-things)-induced coma from Thanksgiving. I can still technically wear one pair of my pre-pregnancy jeans, but occasions such as holidays call for stretchy-paneled maternity pants. So I busted those suckas out and ate until I fell asleep and then woke up and repeated the whole thing. For like three days straight. (Maybe not quite, but that's what it felt like.)
And then there are the boys, who are constantly draining my energy just by being dudes. Yesterday morning, I was getting ready to leave the house to teach my nine o'clock Zumba class - with only a couple of minutes to spare, mind you - when I realized I hadn't seen Cameron for a few minutes. And the bathroom door was closed. With a sinking feeling, I opened it.
And there he was.
Completely naked, even though I had just dressed him - down to the shoes - moments earlier.
With his bottom half covered with poop.
And a toilet-paper-wrapped turd wedged between his butt cheeks.
And poop smeared on the toilet seat.
And when I staggered backwards out of the bathroom in shock, I just happened to spot his clothes.
Which were laying in a pile on the floor.
Next to two wayward turds, just chillin' on the carpet.
WHAT. the EFF.
Needless to say, I was not happy, and even more unhappy when his only explanation was "Colin was using the toilet and I couldn't get on."
"But we have two toilets!!" I shrieked. My reaction was met with a blank sort of stare.
Anyway, that was a great way to start my morning. And then, after I had cleaned up Cameron and his mess, I was putting coats on everyone when I caught a whiff of another rank smell. Yep, Coby had taken a dump in his diaper. Impeccable timing, that one.
Thank goodness the ladies in my class were understanding when I was like five minutes behind schedule.
Colin, my six-year-old, has been another source of worry altogether. Last Wednesday, he woke up fine - but within a couple of hours, had a low-grade fever. I gave him some Motrin and his fever went away, and stayed away, so I didn't think much of it. Thursday, he was completely fine. When he woke up Friday morning, his face was a little bit swollen, but we were visiting family out-of-state so I thought maybe he was allergic to something there and gave him some antihistamine. The swelling went down for the most part, and he seemed fine. He was fine Saturday. Sunday he complained in the afternoon of not feeling well, but we were in the process of driving home and he sometimes gets carsick, so I chalked it up to that. When he woke up Monday morning he was fine - but just before the end of the school day, I got a call from the school nurse saying he was in her office with a fever. I picked him up and brought him home, and as soon as he laid down on the couch his face started to swell again. This time it didn't go down.
So the next morning, Curtis took Colin to the doctor to get to the bottom of all this weirdness. There were blood and protein in his urine. After extensive testing, the official diagnosis was post-streptococcal glomerulonephritis. Basically, he had - at some point unknown to us - a strep infection that went untreated, and it ended up affecting his kidneys. He's on antibiotics and a diuretic, and being closely monitored by his pediatrician (three visits this week alone), and the prognosis for complete recovery is good.
But OMG, y'all. Don't I feel like Mother of the Year ... my poor baby had a strep infection and I didn't even frickin' know. And even when he was exhibiting the first symptoms of his post-strep glomer-whatever-it-is, I kept brushing them off or attributing them to other things. Ugh. (Take a moment to feel awesome about your own parenting. I'll wait.) Thank goodness the damage to his kidneys isn't permanent, or I would never forgive myself. Now I'm going to be one of those moms whose kid sneezes and I'm all, "Uh-oh, let's make you an appointment."
Oh yeah: and this evening, between bath time and diaper, Coby peed ... in the heater vent.
Anyway, that's what I've been up to: honing my fabulous maternal skillz. And going insane, one brain cell at a time. What have you been doing lately?
*I mean, if your name is Ellen, my cat's opener is actually pretty awesome.
I also can't find a relevant picture for this post, but I find this one hilarious. You're welcome.
I think part of the reason I can't come up with anything is because my brain is still on the edge of a turkey-(and-other-things)-induced coma from Thanksgiving. I can still technically wear one pair of my pre-pregnancy jeans, but occasions such as holidays call for stretchy-paneled maternity pants. So I busted those suckas out and ate until I fell asleep and then woke up and repeated the whole thing. For like three days straight. (Maybe not quite, but that's what it felt like.)
And then there are the boys, who are constantly draining my energy just by being dudes. Yesterday morning, I was getting ready to leave the house to teach my nine o'clock Zumba class - with only a couple of minutes to spare, mind you - when I realized I hadn't seen Cameron for a few minutes. And the bathroom door was closed. With a sinking feeling, I opened it.
And there he was.
Completely naked, even though I had just dressed him - down to the shoes - moments earlier.
With his bottom half covered with poop.
And a toilet-paper-wrapped turd wedged between his butt cheeks.
And poop smeared on the toilet seat.
And when I staggered backwards out of the bathroom in shock, I just happened to spot his clothes.
Which were laying in a pile on the floor.
Next to two wayward turds, just chillin' on the carpet.
WHAT. the EFF.
Needless to say, I was not happy, and even more unhappy when his only explanation was "Colin was using the toilet and I couldn't get on."
"But we have two toilets!!" I shrieked. My reaction was met with a blank sort of stare.
Anyway, that was a great way to start my morning. And then, after I had cleaned up Cameron and his mess, I was putting coats on everyone when I caught a whiff of another rank smell. Yep, Coby had taken a dump in his diaper. Impeccable timing, that one.
Thank goodness the ladies in my class were understanding when I was like five minutes behind schedule.
Colin, my six-year-old, has been another source of worry altogether. Last Wednesday, he woke up fine - but within a couple of hours, had a low-grade fever. I gave him some Motrin and his fever went away, and stayed away, so I didn't think much of it. Thursday, he was completely fine. When he woke up Friday morning, his face was a little bit swollen, but we were visiting family out-of-state so I thought maybe he was allergic to something there and gave him some antihistamine. The swelling went down for the most part, and he seemed fine. He was fine Saturday. Sunday he complained in the afternoon of not feeling well, but we were in the process of driving home and he sometimes gets carsick, so I chalked it up to that. When he woke up Monday morning he was fine - but just before the end of the school day, I got a call from the school nurse saying he was in her office with a fever. I picked him up and brought him home, and as soon as he laid down on the couch his face started to swell again. This time it didn't go down.
So the next morning, Curtis took Colin to the doctor to get to the bottom of all this weirdness. There were blood and protein in his urine. After extensive testing, the official diagnosis was post-streptococcal glomerulonephritis. Basically, he had - at some point unknown to us - a strep infection that went untreated, and it ended up affecting his kidneys. He's on antibiotics and a diuretic, and being closely monitored by his pediatrician (three visits this week alone), and the prognosis for complete recovery is good.
But OMG, y'all. Don't I feel like Mother of the Year ... my poor baby had a strep infection and I didn't even frickin' know. And even when he was exhibiting the first symptoms of his post-strep glomer-whatever-it-is, I kept brushing them off or attributing them to other things. Ugh. (Take a moment to feel awesome about your own parenting. I'll wait.) Thank goodness the damage to his kidneys isn't permanent, or I would never forgive myself. Now I'm going to be one of those moms whose kid sneezes and I'm all, "Uh-oh, let's make you an appointment."
Oh yeah: and this evening, between bath time and diaper, Coby peed ... in the heater vent.
Anyway, that's what I've been up to: honing my fabulous maternal skillz. And going insane, one brain cell at a time. What have you been doing lately?
okay, first, I stole the pic to share on FB with my son-in-law.... he will love it. Secondly, you are a great mother ... and if you didn't puke with all the poop, must mean you are over the morning sickness! one good thing!
ReplyDeleteI was doing some work in the basement two nights ago, and the kids were running around upstairs. The Wife mopped the kitchen and living room floors. As I came up the stairs, The Girl looked at The Wife...and pissed on the clean floor through her clothes.
ReplyDeletePower struggle if there ever was one.
Ok, never doubt how great a mom you are! You shouldn't feel bad about not noticing the strep thingy, some people are just carriers. Here's a little story to make you feel more awesome about your parenting:
ReplyDeleteWhen my oldest was two, he was playing down in the finished basement with another two year old. I was fixing snack, I believe, and I heard crying. I went down to find my son on the floor. As a two year old, he couldn't specifically tell me what happened, only that he fell down. There were some toys scattered around on the floor of course, and I figured that he had stepped on one and slipped. I was pregnant at the time with the next one, and very hormonal - grumpy hormonal. So I told him he was fine (I couldn't see blood or bruising after all) and told him to get up. He wouldn't. I got angry. "Stand up!" I said. He wouldn't. I picked him up and called his dad to take him to the clinic, thinking he had pulled a muscle or at the worst, knocked something out of it's socket. We shoved the poor kid into his carseat and off he went. Several hours later my DH called me -
from the hospital! My poor baby had fractured his femur! That's the hardest bone to break. It was such a bad fracture (they called it a spiral fracture, where one part of the bone breaks off and "spirals" up beside the other bone) that he was put in a cast from his chest to his toes on that leg, and on the other non-broken leg, to his knee for three whole months. The hospital staff wouldn't stop questioning us. How did it happen? What exactly were the circumstances? It looked like child abuse to them, when it was honestly a simple accident.
He is ten now, and totally fine. But to this day I still feel like a real "mother-of-the-year" when I think of how I made him try to stand on a severely broken leg, shoved him into a carseat, and then took him to a walk-in clinic instead of the hospital!
Ok that is funny. I got exhausted just reading that and you're pregnant! But something really funny....I don't get that picture...at all. I tried for at least 15min. Clue me in PUHLEASE!
ReplyDeleteOh man I can relate. One of my kids had a staff infection that, when I first saw it, looked kinda like a heat rash. So I dismissed it, as it was down below and he had been having issues wetting the bed at night. Until a couple days later when he came in and showed me a full blown mess of yuckiness. He had a staff infection. I am sooo grateful it didn't spread or, you know, kill him as it has been known for. That was a fantastic mother of the year moment for me.
ReplyDeleteYou, however, are doing an amazing job at being a mom! Boys are no easy task, I know that for sure...but you roll with the punches splendidly. Thanks for the laughs! :)
lmfaoooo! Honestly you have great parenting skills because you have seen and been through some crazy stuff. Hope Colin gets better quickly.
ReplyDeleteOh lady, you and my friend Sarah have the best poo stories.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry about Colin! Poor dude! I know how that is with the illness though- it is so hard to decide whether to take them to the doc or not. Sending healing thoughts to him.
Huh. Speak of the devil. This week I posted on my blog the story of how I peed in a heater vent as a kid, and just got linked here from Laundry Hurts My Feelings.
ReplyDeletehttp://twelvedaysold.blogspot.com/2011/11/peeter-vent.html
When my son was six, he had internal bleeding. We were living in Romania at the time, and they sent us to London for tests. Everything came back negative, though the test for Meckles Diverticulum (which the doctor in Romania said it was) was only 70% accurate. They sent him home, and one week later, he perforated. So he came into our bedroom in the middle of the night complaining that his stomach hurt. I was totally aware of the likelihood that there was something serious going on, and I STILL made him wait until morning before we called the doctor. I even got up and held him while he grunted in agony for a couple of hours. I didn't want to disturb the doctor's sleep. When I found out what was wrong, I couldn't have felt worse. He's 11 now, and has completely forgotten about it, but I still feel terrible, and always will.
ReplyDelete