I actually did weigh in on Monday. I just forgot to write about it. Oops!
I had a successful week weight loss-wise. This is really the first week I have made a weight loss effort since I got the plague. I lost 1.7 pounds, which brings my total up to 8 pounds even. When I got dressed this morning, my jeans - fresh from the dryer even! - were loose around the waist. Yippee!
Eight pounds down, 49 to go.
10.07.2008
10.06.2008
A Really Long Day
I yahoo-ed too soon. Q woke up this morning with a tiny fever. By lunch time he was up to 103.7. Our regular pediatrician said he'd better see him since the fever had been going on for so long. When we got there, he couldn't find any obvious reason for 5+ days of such high fever, so he ordered a blood test.
I figured he would just say, "Nope. It still looks like a virus!" Wrong! The test came back with crazy high white blood cell count. Something 19,000 when normal is four to nine thousand. He didn't want to prescribe antibiotics willy nilly, so more tests were required. He sent Q over to the hospital with a stool culture and an x-ray order. The list of possible maladies went from alarming to OMGOMGOMFG! Possibilities in order of potential hysteria: pneumonia; gastroenteritis; blood borne infection; bone infection; leukemia(!).
I was pleasantly surprised at how quickly we got in at the hospital. We had to go into the emergency room, so I was prepared for the long haul. (Man, there were a bunch of scary people in the waiting room. I haven't been to an ER since college - when I was still a military dependent, which is a totally different experience.) But we were shown right to the radiology department. We had to wait maybe 5 minutes, then the techs were apologizing all over themselves and hustled us right in. The x-rays were over quickly and the only thing Q objected to was being strapped down. The techs email the films over to our doc and Q and I head home.
Unfortunately, when we arrive home our doctor has already called to tell us that there was a possible pneumonia in Q's right lung, but he needed another film to be sure. So back to the hospital we go. This time Q is wise to what is coming and put up a bit more fuss. But even so, it is all over quickly. This time we hang around until the doc calls us at the hospital. The news? Pneumonia. Whew! I know pneumonia is serious, but when I consider the other things it could have been, I must count my blessings.
Dr. C prescribes a powerful antibiotic (Dr. Dad-in-Law says Zithromax will kill bugs, mice, rabbits and small children) to be picked up from the one 24-hour pharmacy here in Small Town. We are to start giving it to Q this very night so as to avoid any future medical procedures. When I get there, the very nice pharmacist explains that the computer is rejecting my insurance card. He says that he knows the cards are good (they are less than a month old!) because he has the same insurance plan, but that Blue Cross/Blue Shield HealthSelect routinely rejects claims made after hours in the hopes that patrons wouldn't bother to come back the next day to get the difference refunded.
The nerve! That makes me more angry than I have words to express. Bilking people who really need the medicine or they wouldn't be at the pharmacy in the middle of the night. Arg! Q's prescription was only $43, but you can bet your sweet patootie that I will be at the pharmacy tomorrow getting the difference refunded.
I figured he would just say, "Nope. It still looks like a virus!" Wrong! The test came back with crazy high white blood cell count. Something 19,000 when normal is four to nine thousand. He didn't want to prescribe antibiotics willy nilly, so more tests were required. He sent Q over to the hospital with a stool culture and an x-ray order. The list of possible maladies went from alarming to OMGOMGOMFG! Possibilities in order of potential hysteria: pneumonia; gastroenteritis; blood borne infection; bone infection; leukemia(!).
I was pleasantly surprised at how quickly we got in at the hospital. We had to go into the emergency room, so I was prepared for the long haul. (Man, there were a bunch of scary people in the waiting room. I haven't been to an ER since college - when I was still a military dependent, which is a totally different experience.) But we were shown right to the radiology department. We had to wait maybe 5 minutes, then the techs were apologizing all over themselves and hustled us right in. The x-rays were over quickly and the only thing Q objected to was being strapped down. The techs email the films over to our doc and Q and I head home.
Unfortunately, when we arrive home our doctor has already called to tell us that there was a possible pneumonia in Q's right lung, but he needed another film to be sure. So back to the hospital we go. This time Q is wise to what is coming and put up a bit more fuss. But even so, it is all over quickly. This time we hang around until the doc calls us at the hospital. The news? Pneumonia. Whew! I know pneumonia is serious, but when I consider the other things it could have been, I must count my blessings.
Dr. C prescribes a powerful antibiotic (Dr. Dad-in-Law says Zithromax will kill bugs, mice, rabbits and small children) to be picked up from the one 24-hour pharmacy here in Small Town. We are to start giving it to Q this very night so as to avoid any future medical procedures. When I get there, the very nice pharmacist explains that the computer is rejecting my insurance card. He says that he knows the cards are good (they are less than a month old!) because he has the same insurance plan, but that Blue Cross/Blue Shield HealthSelect routinely rejects claims made after hours in the hopes that patrons wouldn't bother to come back the next day to get the difference refunded.
The nerve! That makes me more angry than I have words to express. Bilking people who really need the medicine or they wouldn't be at the pharmacy in the middle of the night. Arg! Q's prescription was only $43, but you can bet your sweet patootie that I will be at the pharmacy tomorrow getting the difference refunded.
10.05.2008
Yahoo!
Q's fever just broke. He woke up soaked in sweat and sporting a tummy ache, but his temp felt blessedly normal. Huzzah!
Scraps
Today, what I have is scraps:
- When I thought Z had conceded defeat over the bedtime battle last night? I was SO wrong. Q woke up in the dead of night, on fire with fever because his Motrin had worn off. I'm sure his head felt like it was exploding with a fever so high, and he showed his discomfort by screaming fit to wake the dead. But rather than ghouls, he awoke another little beastie: Z. As I was putting Q back down, I heard Z calling for me. Worried that she had contracted Q's viral nastiness, I go in to check on her. What does she say when I open the door? "I want you to read me a book."
- My great aunt and uncle stopped in for a quick visit today. I was totally unprepared for their arrival, as I had completely forgotten about it in all of the plague-ish excitement. Luckily, they called for directions, so I had time to get everyone dressed. The house? Alas, it was a wreck, as usual. My aunt is nine years older than my mom, which makes her 78. She and her husband were on their way to Branson for a reunion with their friends from when they were in the Peace Corps. How cool is that? I hope I take after my aunt instead of my mom in the brain health department!
- The angels sang at our house today. Both kiddos napped (and actually slept!) at the same time. I got to catch up on a little reading and sleep, too. Yippee!
- I am a voracious reader. No need to be impressed, however, as what I like to read is pretty much fluff - as I am sure you can tell by my 'What I Am Reading' list to the right. (The exception being Jen Lancaster's books, of course! Love, love, love her!) It seems to be all vampires all the time around here. I guess I am going to have to read the Twilight series, just to keep up the streak! It all started with Blood is the New Black, a recommendation from Jen Lancaster's blog. I stumbled on the rest when I was buying the first one on Amazon. Anyway, lots of sassy vampire fun at my house.
- The highpoint of my day? I got my very first comment from someone I'm not related to! Yay for Dodi! She made my day. It seems that I am a whore for comments. Who knew?
- Had to really marshall all of self control to keep my head from spinning around at bed time tonight. Z is showing all the classic signs of sibling rivalry with Q getting so much attention. Most of it has been the usual stuff: talking back, doing stuff to bug Q, crawling all over me. But tonight, she trotted out a new one. She peed on the floor. Arg! If I thought it was a case of not making it to the bathroom in time, it would have been no big deal. But the trail was leading away from her door and further into her room. I had to work very hard not to lose my mind. Good thing I have stock in Nature's Miracle because of the dogs!
- A weird thing I love? My alpha dog (all eight pounds of him!), Griffin, is sitting under my desk licking my feet. He is usually so busy keeping the other dogs in line that he doesn't show tons of affection. When I am writing, he keeps me company and gives me a pedicure. I love this giant ball of fluff!
10.04.2008
House of the Plague
Hello? 1-800-Rent-a-Gypsy? I have two slightly used children to sell. Cheap.
Back for an encore performance, it's Viruspalooza! This time with scary high fever and diarrhea! (The crowd goes wild! No, wait, that's just me.) Unlike his usually intractable sister who becomes mellow with the addition of a few degrees, happy-go-lucky Q becomes 23 pounds of cranky when he has a fever. Has to be held, but only in a position that is maximally uncomfortable for me. Wants his juice, but wants me to hold it. Wails like a banshee if Z even looks in his direction. Is exhausted, but refuses to sleep. I swear, when the kids are sick it makes me need a nap!
It was a beautiful fall day here in Texas today, but we were trapped inside. T is working nights, so he was asleep for most of the day and of no use to me parenting-wise. Z desperately wanted to go out, but there was no one to watch her. And she needs watching. No telling where she would go given even half a chance. I thought we would sneak out while Q was asleep, but his fever (+/-103) made him nap fitfully and as soon as Z was released from captivity, he was (unhappily) awake, too. As the evening progressed, Z became more and more tightly wound up. I guess I should have seen the bedtime fiasco coming.
We all headed upstairs for bath time. Z's room was an unholy wreck, so she had to clean it up before she joined her brother in the bath. I tried to stretch bath time out so Z could join us, but after Q's third escape attempt, I gave up and got him ready for bed. I took Q to his room and read and rocked and sang and got him to bed. He was settled, but not happy about it. I walked down to Z's room only to find that she had not put away a single toy in the 45 minutes I had spent with Q. I had to grab the top of my head to keep it from blowing off.
I am trying not to be a yeller, so I told Z matter of factly that she would be in bed in 15 minutes. How she used that time was up to her, but she had to fit cleaning her room, brushing her teeth, reading and snuggling into it. She puttered around as I counted down the time and put the last toy away just as her 15 minutes were up. When I told her to put on her PJ's and get into bed, she freaked. And ran. I found her hiding in my bedroom. I was all, "Really?" and goose stepped her back to her room, where she threw the tantrum to end all tantrums.
There was literally kicking and screaming. I had to hold the door to keep her in. She lay down on the floor and kicked her heels against the door - which woke up her brother. When I opened her door to tell her to knock it off or I would have to spank her, she tried to make a break for it. Where did she think she was going to go? The gate to the stairs was closed, so she only had the choice of my room or Q's. I corralled her again and put her back in her bed. At this point she changed tactics and was bawling about how she needed a hug. (This is a new delaying tactic she has been using lately. Cute at first, but now just annoying.) I told her I had already hugged her and to get back in bed. At this point, she finally conceded defeat and got in bed.
Now Q was crying. I rocked him to sleep and fumbled the dismount as I was laying him in his crib. I figured he would cry a little just for form's sake and drop off, but no dice. Instead, he had another round of badness in his diaper. So I changed him and comforted him and finally got him to sleep half an hour after his usual bed time.
Now I am tired and cranky. I'm not the least bit hungry, but I really want ice cream. Somehow, I don't think it is hunger I am trying to feed. This, class, is textbook emotional eating. I will resist. I hope. Maybe.
PS - Adding to the fun of fevers and diarrhea, the Dr. Doogie I took Q to yesterday? Gave me totally backwards advice. He mixed up the effects of two different meds. He told me one was safe to use daily and the other was habit forming. Our regular doc, who is off on Fridays, had told me to steer clear of the drug Doogie recommended. Confused, I checked out both drugs online. Doogie was completely wrong. Jeez! Do you need a medical degree just to be a parent? Do they have remedial medical school? I guess it just goes to show, even in medical school, someone has to graduate at the bottom of the class.
Back for an encore performance, it's Viruspalooza! This time with scary high fever and diarrhea! (The crowd goes wild! No, wait, that's just me.) Unlike his usually intractable sister who becomes mellow with the addition of a few degrees, happy-go-lucky Q becomes 23 pounds of cranky when he has a fever. Has to be held, but only in a position that is maximally uncomfortable for me. Wants his juice, but wants me to hold it. Wails like a banshee if Z even looks in his direction. Is exhausted, but refuses to sleep. I swear, when the kids are sick it makes me need a nap!
It was a beautiful fall day here in Texas today, but we were trapped inside. T is working nights, so he was asleep for most of the day and of no use to me parenting-wise. Z desperately wanted to go out, but there was no one to watch her. And she needs watching. No telling where she would go given even half a chance. I thought we would sneak out while Q was asleep, but his fever (+/-103) made him nap fitfully and as soon as Z was released from captivity, he was (unhappily) awake, too. As the evening progressed, Z became more and more tightly wound up. I guess I should have seen the bedtime fiasco coming.
We all headed upstairs for bath time. Z's room was an unholy wreck, so she had to clean it up before she joined her brother in the bath. I tried to stretch bath time out so Z could join us, but after Q's third escape attempt, I gave up and got him ready for bed. I took Q to his room and read and rocked and sang and got him to bed. He was settled, but not happy about it. I walked down to Z's room only to find that she had not put away a single toy in the 45 minutes I had spent with Q. I had to grab the top of my head to keep it from blowing off.
I am trying not to be a yeller, so I told Z matter of factly that she would be in bed in 15 minutes. How she used that time was up to her, but she had to fit cleaning her room, brushing her teeth, reading and snuggling into it. She puttered around as I counted down the time and put the last toy away just as her 15 minutes were up. When I told her to put on her PJ's and get into bed, she freaked. And ran. I found her hiding in my bedroom. I was all, "Really?" and goose stepped her back to her room, where she threw the tantrum to end all tantrums.
There was literally kicking and screaming. I had to hold the door to keep her in. She lay down on the floor and kicked her heels against the door - which woke up her brother. When I opened her door to tell her to knock it off or I would have to spank her, she tried to make a break for it. Where did she think she was going to go? The gate to the stairs was closed, so she only had the choice of my room or Q's. I corralled her again and put her back in her bed. At this point she changed tactics and was bawling about how she needed a hug. (This is a new delaying tactic she has been using lately. Cute at first, but now just annoying.) I told her I had already hugged her and to get back in bed. At this point, she finally conceded defeat and got in bed.
Now Q was crying. I rocked him to sleep and fumbled the dismount as I was laying him in his crib. I figured he would cry a little just for form's sake and drop off, but no dice. Instead, he had another round of badness in his diaper. So I changed him and comforted him and finally got him to sleep half an hour after his usual bed time.
Now I am tired and cranky. I'm not the least bit hungry, but I really want ice cream. Somehow, I don't think it is hunger I am trying to feed. This, class, is textbook emotional eating. I will resist. I hope. Maybe.
* ** *** ** *
PS - Adding to the fun of fevers and diarrhea, the Dr. Doogie I took Q to yesterday? Gave me totally backwards advice. He mixed up the effects of two different meds. He told me one was safe to use daily and the other was habit forming. Our regular doc, who is off on Fridays, had told me to steer clear of the drug Doogie recommended. Confused, I checked out both drugs online. Doogie was completely wrong. Jeez! Do you need a medical degree just to be a parent? Do they have remedial medical school? I guess it just goes to show, even in medical school, someone has to graduate at the bottom of the class.
10.02.2008
Other Compulsions Come to the Fore
Can't write. Must compulsively assemble digital photo album. Totally sucked in.
Before I dash back, I have to give mad props to my album publisher of choice, My Publisher. They rock! You download their (free) software onto your computer, so all storage is on your machine and permanent. They are competitively priced and the finished product is amazing. I used them to make both Z and Q's baby books. So cute!
Before I dash back, I have to give mad props to my album publisher of choice, My Publisher. They rock! You download their (free) software onto your computer, so all storage is on your machine and permanent. They are competitively priced and the finished product is amazing. I used them to make both Z and Q's baby books. So cute!
10.01.2008
Mom Roulette
My BFF, Chica, is adopting a baby girl. I am SO FREAKING HAPPY for her that I can hardly stand it. I finally get to pay her back for all the cool parties she has thrown for me (wedding, bachelorette party, baby #1, baby #2 - you get the picture!). So I found the cutest non-cutesy baby shower invites available on the web and called her up to get the particulars, only to find that she hadn't registered yet.
Now when it was time for me to register for my first baby, my other BFF, G, an experienced mom, took me in and showed me the ropes. She told me what was essential and what was a gimmick. I was fairly prepared when, at five months pregnant, I dragged the husband in to register with me. You know, to get him involved in the pregnancy. I had planned to offer this service to Chica, but have been out of pocket so often since returning from Colorado, that I have been unable to make it to Ginormousville to go with her. I suck.
Anyhoo, last night Chica and her husband made the safari into the land of all things baby. Instead of feeling better now that she is registered, she is now even more confused about what is gold and what is dross. She was going to take my advice and register for everything and sort it out after Baby Chica is born, but it seems that Babies R Us has a new (crappy) return policy. They are no longer doing exchanges without receipt unless it is on your registry. So she is wary of registering for a bunch of darling pink girly things just in case Baby Chica turns out to be a Chico. Drag!
She sent me this e-mail upon her return: "OMG HELP ME! Just came back from Babies R Us and feel confident that my child will not survive me." Poor Chica! I couldn't help but laugh, but she has gotten such conflicting advice from all of her different mom friends that she doesn't know what to think. Some say pacifiers! and others say no pacifiers! Some are pro technology and others think the vibrating chairs are the devil.
In the morning after post mortem, we were discussing all of the stuff that I think is essential. But here's the thing: I am a stay at home breast feeding mom. She will be a working bottle feeding mom. There are just some things for which I have no perspective to share. Babywise? Bottles? Huh?
None of us know in advance what kind of mom we will be, what we will use to cope or what pre-baby thing will have to give. I never figured that my kids would be such TV hounds (though given their parentage, I don't really see how it could be avoided! Go PBS!). I certainly never thought that my standards of grooming could limbo under such a low bar (pony tail? Check. Shirt with stainage? Check. Putting deodorant on to cover the funk? Check. Make up? What's that?).
What did remain? I am still connected with my friends back in Ginormousville. I always have some electronic and/or home decorating project going on. Other moms don't have time for phone calls/e-mails/hobbies because they are fans of good hygiene. Or make homemade baby food. Or have to work at that pesky other job so they can have food and shelter. Some can do it all. My friend J just put her baby in the sling and did her thing.
Hang in there, Chica! It doesn't matter what flavor of mom you are. You will be great!
Now when it was time for me to register for my first baby, my other BFF, G, an experienced mom, took me in and showed me the ropes. She told me what was essential and what was a gimmick. I was fairly prepared when, at five months pregnant, I dragged the husband in to register with me. You know, to get him involved in the pregnancy. I had planned to offer this service to Chica, but have been out of pocket so often since returning from Colorado, that I have been unable to make it to Ginormousville to go with her. I suck.
Anyhoo, last night Chica and her husband made the safari into the land of all things baby. Instead of feeling better now that she is registered, she is now even more confused about what is gold and what is dross. She was going to take my advice and register for everything and sort it out after Baby Chica is born, but it seems that Babies R Us has a new (crappy) return policy. They are no longer doing exchanges without receipt unless it is on your registry. So she is wary of registering for a bunch of darling pink girly things just in case Baby Chica turns out to be a Chico. Drag!
She sent me this e-mail upon her return: "OMG HELP ME! Just came back from Babies R Us and feel confident that my child will not survive me." Poor Chica! I couldn't help but laugh, but she has gotten such conflicting advice from all of her different mom friends that she doesn't know what to think. Some say pacifiers! and others say no pacifiers! Some are pro technology and others think the vibrating chairs are the devil.
In the morning after post mortem, we were discussing all of the stuff that I think is essential. But here's the thing: I am a stay at home breast feeding mom. She will be a working bottle feeding mom. There are just some things for which I have no perspective to share. Babywise? Bottles? Huh?
None of us know in advance what kind of mom we will be, what we will use to cope or what pre-baby thing will have to give. I never figured that my kids would be such TV hounds (though given their parentage, I don't really see how it could be avoided! Go PBS!). I certainly never thought that my standards of grooming could limbo under such a low bar (pony tail? Check. Shirt with stainage? Check. Putting deodorant on to cover the funk? Check. Make up? What's that?).
What did remain? I am still connected with my friends back in Ginormousville. I always have some electronic and/or home decorating project going on. Other moms don't have time for phone calls/e-mails/hobbies because they are fans of good hygiene. Or make homemade baby food. Or have to work at that pesky other job so they can have food and shelter. Some can do it all. My friend J just put her baby in the sling and did her thing.
Hang in there, Chica! It doesn't matter what flavor of mom you are. You will be great!
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