At the direct and vehement request of an Unnamed Someone, I am changing some words in this blog to protect his sensitive ears. For clarification purposes, I hope it is obvious that I do not think my son is The Prince of Darkness, or Evil Incarnate or anything remotely related to those things/beings. I simply used those words to describe behaviors for which the Unnamed Someone was not present to witness. If one is so inclined, I would offer that one to take Luke with them to the dentist office himself and see what adjectives and comparasions are more accurate. That is all. On with the changing!
It seems my recent blog entries have been running much too close to the “BORING” label, so it’s time to add some spark into an otherwise dull and morbidly annoying blog. So get ready for some ZING. Here come the events of my day, written out where all the world can be immersed in true, unadulterated bloggety happiness. Bask in my world, people.
To bask properly, one must understand the cosmic (NOT “comic”, that’s very different) events of yesterday. To sum up: Went to pediatrician because of wheezing boy. Doctor gave prescription for steroids and instructions to use breathing treatments (Luke basically has same condition as Susanna. Reactive Airway Disease.) Doctor also mentioned that the steroids/breathing treatments can make said child “onery”. (Cue scary music) Foreshadowing? Perhaps….
Moving right along with the story that is entirely too long and dull….Over the next 24 hour period, I administered the steroids and gave the breathing treatments just like I was supposed to. To my surprise, my sweet little baby boy turned into an Incredible Hulkified Animal. (I’m taking a big risk here by assuming this descriptor is ok) I can’t say that I wasn’t warned though. And you know, the doctor told me not to take him out into the cold weather, but I thought it was because the cold air was a trigger for the wheezing (which it is). Not because the meds turned my boy into a naughty boy, thereby scaring the general public!
So skip forward to this morning. Susanna awoke with an intense ear ache. Susanna, who has absolutely NO nerves in her body (see Plasti-girl), does not complain of pain. EVER. So figuring something must be up, I kept her home from school. I think it was when she and Lydia were playing the game called Shout Your Lungs Out At Your Sister that I clued in that her ear ache (if real in the first place–I actually think it was. Call me crazy.) had cleared up. But not before she described to me what was going on inside her mouth. It seems that just below the spot where her tooth fell out a couple of weeks ago there is this white, blistery looking thing and it was causing her a great deal of pain (see third sentence of this paragraph). So I made an appointment with the dentist to check it out.
After Luke semi-destroyed the dentist’s waiting room (it took him a mere 10 minutes and then they probably only took us back there to prevent complete obliteration), we moved on to the actual examination room. (And I say, “room” in that there are walls, but it is WIDE open to God and everybody.) That is when Luke opened up a big can of Bad Baby on me and everyone within earshot/eyeshot/etc. SO! That must’ve been the signal for the dentist, because she came in within a few minutes of The Fury That Is unleashing his wrath upon us all. (Note to those concerned: Turns out Susanna’s mouth sore is “only an ulcer” and should clear up on its own. Right.) We exited the dentist’s office to the claps, whistling, and wild cheering of all its occupants. I think I may have heard a few “Thank yous” also, but I can’t be for sure.
Most of the rest of the day was spent in a blur of screaminess scattered with hints of insanity (on my part). This was my “one of those days” people talk about. Anyway, on to dinner!……
(By the way, the above is my favorite picture!)
Mark, being the kind and wonderful husband that he is, must have sensed that I was near-crazy status because he suggested we go out for dinner. We chose a fine Mexican food restaurant (truthfully, it was Tex-Mex. There is a difference!) and proceeded to dine. About halfway through, Lydia refused to eat her dinner (Clue Number 1). Then she started shaking (Clue Number 2). Then she got That Look and started the gagging reflex (hideous Clue Number 3). I grabbed my napkin just in time to catch most of The Yuck, but the sheer volume alone was too much for one little linen (oops!) napkin. An extremely kind waitress gave us rags with which to clean her up, but the damage was extensive. We asked for the check and made it to the car without too much more incident.
On to home, then Lydia to the tub, then jammies, and bedtime (including another dose of happy! meds! for Luke!) for the kids.
Just another day…..and lookout, ’cause here comes another one!
PS-And a big thank you to Google Images for the helpful visuals! I got some advice that adding pictures would help my blog……Thanks Andrew! hee hee!
Here’s a quick bedtime story for you younguns….
Girl writes check.
Girl loses checkbook (LAST Wednesday).
Girl nearly stresses self out over runaway checkbook.
Girl entirely tears up desk area (which, incidentally, already looked a bit tornado-fied) looking for hiding checkbook.
Blood pressure rises.
Then, just this evening (that would be Tuesday, if you’re keeping track), Girl finds checkbook hiding in one among many bags she carries on any given day. Not diaper bag. Not other diaper bag. Not kids’ backpacks. Not purse (duh!).
Any guesses as to where it was?
In the BIG bag (filled with oodles of Kids’ Club stuff) I take to church on …wait for it….WEDNESDAY nights (to pay for dinner).
Sometimes I wonder how I can remember my own name.
You can go to bed now.
PS-Happy Thanksgiving!! At least I’m early for something!
We have exciting news. Susanna lost her first tooth last night. At first, she was really excited. Then she started feeling the hole and with all the blood pouring out of it, she kinda freaked. She recovered, but it was touch-and-go for a bit. Here it is in her hand (’It’s a fuzzy shot’, you might say. Such is life.):
I tried to get a few pictures of her with the sizeable hole in the middle of her bottom row of choppers, but my flash went nutzo and it turned out to be a picture of a bright flash of white. Gonna have to work on that. In the meantime, I will regale you with something I wrote on this momentous occasion…..
Ode to Baby Teeth
For Susanna, 2005
My teeth are very helpful
When I want to chew my food.
I find they are most happy
when I brush them like I should.
But when one starts to wiggle,
I push it with my tongue.
I find the more I push it,
the more it comes undone!
And one day while I’m pushing it,
It gives a little “pop”,
It falls right out into my hand
With a bunch of bloody slop.
It goes under my pillow
Where it’s nice and warm and funny
The tooth fairy comes and takes it home
She gives me a little money!
So, teeth, I will take care of you,
I will brush and floss and rinse.
You will all fall out, eventually,
And you’re worth a lot of cents!
Ok, it’s not going to be my Pulitzer Prize this year, but hey, I tried.
Today is a momentous day around our house. It is the birthday of our middle child, Lydia.
It was 4 years ago that I was finally released from 3 weeks of bedrest (6 weeks before her due date) and so began life “outside” with our little Neonatal Intensive Care Unit preemie. She was only held captive by the NICU isolettes for a mere 10 days, but that was the longest 10 days of my life. It felt like an eternity.
We didn’t always get along so well. In her first year, she taught me to live on less than 3 hours of sleep per day and that only with an infant snoozing on my stomach. My arms would fall asleep trying to hold her still on my tummy (I’m glad SOME part of my body got some sleep!). She sealed my determination when she refused to nurse (for the first 8 weeks, which is normal for a preemie), but would instead scream her little baby brains out at me almost non-stop. (My current hearing problem started about the same time. Fancy that.) Three months after she was born, I had a huge meltdown and was diagnosed with Post Partum Depression. I never wanted to hurt her (or her sister). I just wanted to open the front door and go screaming down the street, never to return. Six months of anti-depressants took care of that.
Then we had Barffest 2005, which preceeded the whole nasty appendicitis incident, here, here, and here. A week in the hospital for her (and us) with lots of pain and drugs. Very scary. I don’t recommend that. But she survived (so did we!). We were/are very thankful.
These days her greatest loves are going to preschool and finding quick and secret ways to dig in Susanna’s school’s muddy flower beds (to my chagrin) while I’m not looking. She is a child of extremes — experiences are either euphorically excellent or they are utterly detestable. She keeps me on my toes (or at least, that’s what I’d like to think) and adds spontaneity and variety to every day. She is a sweet child who tells it like it is. I’m so glad she is in our family. And you can bet that life with Lydia will never, ever be dull. She will make sure of that.
Happy 4th Birthday, sweetie! I love you gobs!!!
PS-If it’s Lydia’s birthday, then you know it’s only 6 weeks until Christmas! Just a little reality check for you!
So Susanna is still being bothered by “RB” (also known as “The Girlie Name”). This is how part of our after-school conversation went today….
Me: Did RB-TGN call you mean names again?
Susanna: Yes, he told me I was gross. (Apparently, he lacks variety and imagination in his limited vocabulary.)
Me: Well, what did you do this time?
Susanna: I did this to him. (Proceeds to bobble head around and roll eyes around in head)
Very cute. That’s my girl! Fight stupidity with wild “dancing head” (her words) moves. I love the wit on that kid!
PS - Yesterday when I asked her about it (because it is now an everyday thing), she laughed and said that when he called her “Gross”, he didn’t see the teacher standing behind him and the teacher heard it and “sat him out” on the playground. Ha ha! Take that!!
Around the dinner table this evening, Susanna was relaying to us the events of her day at school….
Susanna: …So-and-so (not their real name) had to go to the nurse’s office for such-and-such (not their real incident) and oh yeah, RudeBoy (also not his real name) told me I was gross. (A little background info on RB: He has done this on a daily basis for about the last week or so. Plus, for some crazy reason, his momma gave him a girl’s name, a fact of which I would like to remind his little cretin-self, but maybe that was what started his problems in the first place. I digress….)
Me: You mean, he just said, “Ew, you’re gross”? Like that?
Susanna (seemingly unbothered): Yup. He said, “You are gross, Susanna.”
Mark: What did you say to him?
Susanna (with quirky, cute smile): I coughed on him. Without covering my mouth. Ha!
::Loud, boisterous laughter erupts from entire family::
Because that’s what our family is all about. Germing out those jerks that dare to strut their cheeky meaness. So beware, jerks!!! We’re on to you!
Here’s my current ponderance….How on earth can I go to the grocery store for only 3 items –eggs, peanut butter, and bread–and end up spending 60 bucks? (Not to mention that I left all of my precious coupons at home–because I was *only* going for 3 little things. Drat!) Am I addicted to the grocery store and all it’s foodly goodness?
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the question of the day…….