You Shouldn’t Give Up
So the Big One is pretty darn funny sometimes. This morning the Little One was eating yogurt with her fingers instead of her spoon. The Big One announced that the Little One shouldn’t be eating with her fingers.
I told her, I agreed, but that right now I “give-up.” What I meant was that I was in no mood to fight the Little One to use a spoon. If she wanted to use her fingers, so be it.
At which point the Big One says, “Benny doesn’t give up in the race and neither should you Mommy.”
Apparently she was watching a recent episode of Dora when Benny the Bull runs into some trouble during a race. Dora and her friends gather up and help Benny to complete the race.
So there is some three-year-old wisdom for the day. No matter what is happening in your life… don’t give up.
Dumb Idea Part III…There Really Are No Words
Rather than write a bunch today, I offer these pictures:
The Baby Doll
The Drain Cover
The Hose
My Brand-New Reefs
A Spoon
My new favorite product {AKA house-broken my arse!}
I‘ve been Naughty…. Apparently
This here is my official proclamation in “My Name is Earl” style.
I am sorry!
To anyone and anything that I have ever harmed, offended, hurt, lied to, pissed off, beat-up, injured, maimed, killed, insulted, wounded, etc.
I am S.O.R.R.Y.
Please, please, please forgive me and remove the blessed puking curse that has taken over my household.
Last night the Little One fussed for a couple minutes, then coughed and then was quiet. I didn’t even get up to check on her because the entire episode lasted all of three minutes. She wasn’t wailing, gagging, wretching or anything else that resembled the telltale puking signs. She fussed and coughed and then seemingly went back to sleepy oblivion.
Oblivion, my butt. This is what it looked liked in her room at 7:15 when I went to get her up.
And the smell is beyond any words that I can even come up with.
As disgusting as this all is, it is further proof that the Little One is the sweetest child on the face of the Earth. Would you smile like this if you were covered in caked-on puke?
It must be 5 o’clock somewhere, right?
A Diagnosis? Is It Worth This?
Well we have some medicine, so hopefully we’ll have no more middle of the night puking. The pediatrician thinks that the Big One is suffering from GastroEsophageal Reflux Disease (GERD). Yep it appears it’s reflux that is causing all the fun around here.
So she gave us a prescription for Omeprazole, (Prilosec). Okay, y’all this stuff tastes like rotting fish in a bucket of old salt water. It is absolutely wretched. Yes I did taste it and feel horrible for trying to force 3.5ml down her throat.
So I turned to my favorite source of experts, the moms on Baby Center. They are the best, most knowledgeable group of gals around. They recommended switching to the Prevacid SoluTabs. Apparently they are strawberry flavored and dissolve fairly quickly. So I e-mail our pediatrician and asked about them.
She responded and said Prevacid was safe and she would put the prescription in. I was feeling confident that we were going to get this puking under control. So I head to the pharmacy leaving the Husband in charge of the bedtime routine. (He’s got Reserves stuff this weekend, so I am on my own for three days). The lovely tech at the pharmacy tells me it’s about a 25 minute wait. So 45 minutes later, the Big One’s name finally flashed on the magic screen.
I go get in line and once it’s my turn am dismayed when I am handed a bottle of liquid Prevacid and told that Kaiser “doesn’t cover” the SoluTabs, that they are “too expensive.”
And then the tech proceeds to tell me my co-pay for this liquid crap is $90. OH! And they “owe” me two bottles because they are currently short on supply.
Then the pharmacist comes over to do his “consult” since it’s a new medicine. All the man did was read the box to me. Then I asked about mixing the medicine with some juice or apple sauce or yogurt. He tells me he thinks it’s okay. So I ask about the flavor of the medicine. I had read on the box that it said “cherry, banana, mint.” I was trying to surmise if it was all three “flavors” mixed in one or what. He tells me that the flavor is “citric acid flavor… so it tastes like orange” he says. Too tired to argue I took the little bag and waked out.
Turns out the first two ingredients listed on the box are “citric acid and flavors…” So thank you very much, Mr. Kaiser pharmacist for being completely useless. And also thank you to Ms. Kaiser Pediatrician for $90 worth of liquid crap that I have to try and force down the Big One’s throat.
I Really Should Know Better
I QUIT!
I know better than to whine because it can and usually does get worse!
Just for sh!ts and giggles, I imagine, my household decided to go for the trifecta today. Yes I already complained about the Big One puking and the dog peeing on my carpet. So I guess it only fitting that the Little One got in on the action.
What did the Little One do? Well what’s left? You’ve got pee, puke and then you get diarrhea. Not just a little liquid poop in the diaper. This was an explosion of putrid proportions. All over her clothes, body, bed, blanket, sheets, you get the picture.
As soon as I reached the top of the stairs, I knew I was in trouble. The smell wafted all the way down the hallway.
As I result, I am done. I officially declare the kitchen closed. If anyone wants to eat dinner tonight they can get their own freaking food. I will be drowing my sorrows in something liquid, I believe.
It’s 5 o’clock somewhere, right?
Breaking Point…
Yeah, I might be there.
Somewhere between cleaning up the Big One’s puke (yes again) at 1 a.m. and the dog’s pee at 2 a.m.. I think I may have hit a wall.
OH! And I went to the dentist yesterday and was told I need two crowns. UGH!
Calgon… take me away.
{The one ray of hope that I have is the Big one now has a doctor’s appointment this morning to see if we can come up with a reasonable explanation to all of the recent puking.
Dumb Idea Part II
Let me preface this by saying I am a dog lover. I have always had a dog. I dig dogs. I think they are great companions, friends, protectors and pets. Dogs rock.
The problem is this is the first time I have had to train a dog with two small children. When I adopted Max 10 years ago, I was single and still living with my parents so it wasn’t so bad and I had back-up in the form of mom and dad.
With Gracie Lou I am essentially on my own. She is leery petrified of the Husband. We conclude she must have been abused by a man at some point. So every time he even looks at her she cowers and hides behind me. So for training, I am on my own.
Another disclaimer: Gracie Lou is a great dog. She is sweet, playful, house-trained, non-aggressive and fun.
The first issue is she is still a puppy. So the list of unauthorized things that I pulled from her mouth and/or paws yesterday included: One Elmo slipper, one pink sock, one white tiger figurine, one small boy (the only person we have to the doll house we bought the girls at thrift store, and one of the only toys they consistently fight over), one sippy cup, one pink kitty cat Robeez shoe (no she didn’t go for the knock-off Robeez she went for the real thing) and one caterpillar tambourine.
But honestly, she didn’t “destroy” any of those items. I caught her quick enough there was minimal damage. The bigger challenge for me is the additional stress.
Here’s how or afternoon played out. At about 2:30 the Little One started screaming like someone was ripping her toenails off. She usually sleeps until 3 p.m. so the fact that she was even awake was strange let alone screaming. As I raced up the stairs, Graice lou thought it was a game and just about killed me trying to beat me up the stairs. Thank God we have a landing halfway up or else I think I might have been trampled.
As we reached the top of the stairs, the Big One was crying too. So I stopped in the bathroom first to see what was wrong with the Big One. Turns out she didn’t quite make it to the potty on time so she was sitting on the pot holding her poop stained panties sobbing. I take the panties put them in the sink and head for the Little One who really sounds like she is dying now.
Turns out she was in pain, lots of pain. Somehow she got her chunky little leg wedged in between the slats of her crib. She must have stuck her knee through and then twisted a bit because it was stuck. I tried pushing it back through to no avail. So now my mind was racing as to what to do. I was thinking I could go to the garage and get a saw to try and cut the slats away. But then I figured with the way she was writhing in pain I probably would have cut her leg off. So then I thought about a hammer and just whacking the slats until they gave way. No that won’t work either because then I would have splintered wood exposed and where would she sleep later. I could go find a wrench to try and take the thing apart, but that would take too long. Mind you it had only been about 5.3 seconds since I assessed the initial situation. The mind of a mommy is quick!
I took a chance and twisted her knee just a bit and forced it back through. As soon as it was through, she collapsed in her crib. So I was convinced I broke her leg and what in the world was I going to do with this dog when I have to take her to the Emergency Department. It was not good.
I picked her up, took her over to the changing table and changed her nasty stinky diaper first. (you all know the saying… scared the poop out of her, yes I think that’s what happened). And then I manipulated her leg. She let me bend and straighten it so I figured it wasn’t actually broken. It was just mis-shapen, red, bruised and turned a little sideways. I put her down on the floor to see if she could walk. She was a bit wobbly, then she limped for an hour or so and then she was fine.
What does any of this have to do with the dog. Well you see all the while I was trying to get the Little One un-stuck, the Big One was still sitting on the potty. During the entire ordeal all I kept hearing was, “NO! Gwacie Wou… NO butt sniffing.” Followed by “STOP SNIFFING MY BUTT, GWACIE WOU!”
Yes, Gracie Lou is a good dog. Other than the fact that she is petrified of the Husband, she chews on anything she can find and she is a butt/crotch sniffer.
Ahhhhh, fun times.
Whose Dumb Idea Was This?
Oh yeah, that was me. You see when my precious Max died in May I was distraught. I was sad. I was mad. The Husband and I had a deal that when the day came that Max left us we could get a husky. The problem is that Max wasn’t supposed to die so young. He was only 10 for goodness sake. He was supposed to be around for at least 14 or 15 years. I figured by then I would be ready to say good-bye and we would be back in San Diego where having a Husky doesn’t seem quite as cruel as having a husky in the high desert.
So when my friend Karen found a Husky mix available for adoption in our area. I figured I had a 50/50 chance that the Husband would agree to it. Well guess what? He agreed. I think reluctantly, but he agreed. I think part of his giving in was the fact that he seems to be gone more than the obligatory “one weekend a month and two weeks a year” that the Reserves promise. Since I feel more comfortable when it’s just the girls and me if there is a dog in the house {preferably a dog with a really loud bark, which apparently Gracie Lou has}, the Husband agreed and for the low price of $150 we adopted her.
Yes, her name is Gracie Lou and it seems to suit her. She at least responds to it. She is a 1-year-old Husky/German Shepherd mix. She’s been in a foster home for three months and while she was a bit worried leaving her foster mom, she seems to be adjusting okay.
The problem is the Big One doesn’t like kisses and Gracie Lou loves the Big One. I think because they are the closest in size, Gracie Lou thinks the Big One is her perfect playmate. Of course the Big One’s reactions range from a stern “NO kisses, Gracie,” to a shrieking squeal followed by a chase. Of course, the Big One doesn’t quite understand that if she runs, Gracie Lou runs with her.
*sigh* in time I hope it will all work out. She really is a sweet dog, if only I could convince her the couch doesn’t taste good and that her toys are in one box and the girls toys are in all the other boxes!
Defeated But Not Out
It was bound to happen sooner or later. I have enjoyed my reign as the ultimate fix-it person in our household. But a few days ago, I was defeated. I had to admit to the Big One that mommy couldn’t fix something.
Shocking, I know.
The object that beat me? This little cheap-o pink bracelet. The Big One received it in a “goody bag” at our neighbor’s birthday party. I swear the thing broke as soon as she touched it. Devastated, she cried real tears and was very sad for about three minutes at the birthday party. She soon got over it and I hoped would forget all about it.
She’s 3, she doesn’t forget anything. So as soon as her eyes opened the morning after the party she asked me to fix it. I tried in vain to get the Super Glue to bond to the plastic material. 
What happened? Well I broke it further. You see the Big One had broken it into two pieces. In trying to fix it, I broke it into three pieces.
It was useless, so we thought. I had a brief moment when it seemed the glue was finally taking and I got a little bit excited. So I just left it to sit for a while. After 15 minutes or so (an eternity to a 3 year-old) I gently picked up the bracelet. And it immediately snapped back into three pieces.
Not one to admit that I was not able to fix it, instead I promised the Big One I would make her an even better bracelet to replace this one. So off we went to Joanne’s to let her pick out whatever color she wanted. She, of course, picked blue, it is after all her favorite color. And now we have this bracelet to wear instead.
So while the FixItMommy was not able to fix the original bracelet, I was able to fix the Big One’s spirit with the new bracelet. That’s still counts as fixing the thing right?
Murphy’s Law or Scientific Fact?
That is the question today. Is it Murphy’s Law or proven science that kids only throw-up at night? The Big One has puked once during the day time and of late, several times at night. {that is a different issue, and I am creating a spreadsheet to track the episodes, to try and figure out what’s causing it!}
Two nights ago, our last night in San Diego, the Big One started screaming at 2 a.m. She proclaimed very loudly that she did NOT want to get sick. I reassured her she was fine and that she could go back to bed. All was quiet for about 30 minutes then the screaming began, followed by little feet racing to the bathroom. (as sad as all the recent puking has been , thank God she has gotten what the cues are and can get herself to the bathroom before the retching begins.)
Usually she is a one-puke kind of kid. She purges it all and then quietly goes back to sleep. Not this night. The poor kid puked for two and a half hours. Yes all the food was gone after the second time, but she continued to dry heave and pull up bile for 150 minutes.
It was awful. I felt horrible for her.
At about 4:30 a.m. she was so tired she finally fell asleep curled up on my lap on the bathroom floor. Sounds great, right? Not so much. Each time she moved, her little body punished her with more retching. But since she was so tired she didn’t even wake up. So we sat there on the floor both covered in yuck for an hour.
Who knew that a kid could continue to puke for a long time without even waking up? Needless to say I did get to utilize the roll and remove technique that you my fabulous readers taught me. Granted by the time we were both on our third shirts, I gave up and we both slept for about 2 hours in the puked on clothes. We didn’t have anything left since we were still at grandma and grandpa’s house.
fixitmommy.com 