Monday, December 18, 2006

When It Rains, It Pours

And the explosions continue... only now Mystery Baby is involved. Oh, she's not sick or anything... she's just a newborn prone to blowing out her dipes.

So today I have done 3 loads of laundry, administered 3 baths, and still managed to eat a warm lunch. The kiddies are napping... although Mystery is sleeping in the swing because she fell asleep before I could get Wonder Boy cleaned up the second time.

Now... about that Toxic Waste Permit. I think I may need to apply for one after all.

Sunday, December 17, 2006

Explosive Toddlers - (It's not what you think)

TMI Warning: Do NOT eat while reading!!!


Wonder Boy is on his 3rd round of antibiotics in just 6 weeks. As I posted before, we have a plague of Biblical proportions sweeping through our home. Wonder Boy has a lingering ear infection and upper respiratory yuckiness... so his ped put him on Augmentin.

Now, I don't know if you read much, but my reading has been mainly medical in nature these days. for a little light reading before bed, I read the prescription labels & info sheets. I am now fairly well-informed about the potential side effects of many antibiotics as well as those of Prevacid (which Wonder Boy also takes for GERD). You'd think I would take the warnings to heart.

On Friday, Wonder Boy had a wonder-diaper! It was n.a.s.t.y. Luckily, I was at a friend's house and was able to give WB a bath and throw his clothes in plastic bags. I had forgotten that I left a pair of pajamas in the diaper bag, so at least he had something to wear. Then I seriously debated whether or not I like the clothes enough to launder them. In the end (so to speak), I did launder them, but only because I was sure I would not be granted a Toxic Waste Dumping Permit for said clothing. That evening I informed our Fearless Leader about our latest adventure in diapering - I waited til he was done eating, too.

On Saturday, the family headed out to visit the great grandmother's Christamas party. We haven't been out much since the plague descended upon us, so we jumped at the chance to see Santa, eat goodies, and listen to the older set's version of holiday tunes. We had a grand time. After a bit, I wandered off to feed Mystery Baby while the rest of the family waited to ride the horse drawn carriage. Suddenly our Fearless Leader's mother appeared and hurriedly snatched the diaper bag - and I noticed her pants were sporting a new lovely holiday green splatter pattern. Uh-oh. So I gather up Mystery Baby and head out to the van to see for myself thow this was going to play out. Turns out WB exploded just as the family sat down in the carriage. The older kids got to ride while our Fearless Leader and his mom left with WB. All three were covered in festive green poo. So, we all ended up in great grandmother's apartment for a quick shower and change for WB. That was the end of our evening. The older kids were denied a ride on the ferris wheel and were unable to deliver their litanies to Santa... but we made it home without further incident.

Today is young. Nothing spectacular has happened. And here I sit, waiting for the next diaper to explode.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Biopsies are Not for Sissies

Biopsies rot. Talk about no fun. Yesterday I had a "fine needle aspiration biopsy" of my thyroid (Adventures in Hyperthyroidism is a whole 'nother post for another day) - which is a fancy way of saying that a doctor gets to repeatedly attack your throat with a needle. Ok. Ok. It wasn't that bad, but it wasn't fun. There's nothing like being told you can't swallow and then having a needle stuck in your throat and jiggled around... and, oh! not enough cells? Let's do it again.

My favorite part was waiting on my gurney in the hall outside of the ultrasound department. Another bed was parked next to mine and there we sat for a good 10 minutes. My eyes kept drifting to the sign clearly posted on the wall: Keep This Area Clear According To Fire Code. Um....

At least the ride to and from outpatient admissions was fun.

Toddlers and Universal Implosion - a Theory or Fact?

I strongly suspect that toddler tantrums are evidence of a toddler's amazing ability to tap into cosmic power. And along with great power comes great responsibility, as we superhero-types know... but toddlers lack anything resembling responsibility and self control. So, it is my sole purpose in life to teach Wonder Boy to use his powers for good. (I am shamelessly stealing this line from a dear friend. She, too, had a SuperBoy in need of much guidance.)

Last night we attempted to attend Family Mass at our parish. Let's just say that our Fearless Leader is amazing - he spent the entire time in the van with Wonder Boy while the rest of our heroic clan prayed for the safety of the universe.

Sunday, December 10, 2006

Never run out of everything at the same time and never get sick.


It feels like we've had the plague. No kidding - since the first week of November we've been hit hard and heavy with all kinds of illness. Our Fearless Leader came down with strep throat. Then the kids starting dropping like flies... and then I got it. We wrapped up the month with a nice ear infection w/upper respiratory yuck for Wonder Boy and a nifty cold for Mystery Baby. I think we spent more in copays than a month's premium for our insurance costs!

Money... that's what brings me to my point. Shopping with a two year old and a new baby is not high on my list of fun things to do. Actually, getting bloodwork drawn is easier to deal with. We had stocked our pantry and freezer before Mystery was born, but supplies ran low. The writing on the wall was clear this past Friday night when we scrounged for dinner. It was a "Mustgo" night (as in, everything must go!): leftover pizza, a pork chop, some baked sweet potatoes & apples, and chocolate cream of wheat left from breakfast. Last night was the last of the pasta. So today, I knew I had to bite the bullet and go. Our Fearless Leader and the older boys had errands to run, so the Littles and I did the big shop together. $350 later, we came home tired and laden with yummies. Believe it or not, I did manage to buy real food and found most of the things on my list. It did, however, take 2 carryout kids and 3 carts to get it all out to my van. You should have seen me hoisting the 2 carts - one loaded with the toddler & baby in carseat, the other with food practically falling out.

Anyway. It hurt to swipe that debit card.

Thursday, December 7, 2006

Frequent night feedings are not conducive to clear daytime thinking.

The post partum time in a woman's life can be a blur. This morning is a perfect case in point.

I took advantage of a delay in my husband's morning schedule to dash upstairs and get dressed for my day. Let's just say that frequent night feedings are not conducive to clear daytime thinking - I realize this is not news to anyone, but I feel the need to post this as a public service. What is so difficult about dressing oneself? It's not rocket science. But it does require a certain presence of mind. My mind was still abed... I placed my disposable breast pads in the laundry and threw away my socks.

Note to self: Do not attempt to cook today lest you throw away the food and bake the dishtowels.

Dumpster Diving At Home 101

Nothing like a typical Wonder Boy adventure to start this blog.

Today I was checking posts on one of my favorite forums. The Mystery Baby was napping and Wonder Boy was playing quietly... a little too quietly. I went in search for him and found him in the kitchen - covered in honey butter.

Now, the problem with this is not so much the mess - it's that the honey butter smeared all over his face, hands and clothes was found in the garbage! My beloved, our Fearless Leader, had brought home a dozen rolls from The Texas Roadhouse several nights ago. Honey butter isn't a big hit around here, so it got pitched. I didn't think to snap a picture of the Butterball until it was too late - I had cleaned him up.

What does this say about my parenting? Maybe I should serve a more timely lunch to keep my kid from foraging on his own. Something to think about.