Strep, Love and Vomit

I am experiencing the phase in life that many parents of young children know all too well.  My children are ALWAYS sick.   Two weeks ago the entire family enjoyed a good old fashioned case of strep throat courtesy my four year old.  This week it was pink eye.  In between was perhaps the worst of all.

I went downstairs to check on my babies and could smell the foul aroma wafting out of their room, through the hallway and into the playroom (it seriously filled like 2000 square feet of space).  Any physician worth their salt can instantly identify that smell.  It was rotavirus.

I carefully investigated to determine who the culprit might be.  It was Baby Bird, the two-year old.  After lifting her unconscious body, it became immediately apparent that she had soiled her entire backside and the bed.  I plucked her out of bed and placed her on a towel in the bathroom.  In an emergency, the best thing to do is to call for help, so I leaned out into the hallway to yell for my husband.

Big Mistake.  Huge.

By the time I lean back in, Baby Bird has woken up and is spewing forth like a tiny Linda Blair.  It just keeps coming. Did you know that a twenty-four pound baby can hold up to a gallon of vomit?   Me neither.   It was on the floor, walls, my clothes, her clothes, in our hair, everywhere.   We put her in the bath and I set about cleaning up the puke when suddenly my husband, who is a sympathetic puker by the way, starts yelling for me as she starts puking in the tub and there is just so much puke.  Did I mention puke?

After a bazillion towels, a gallon of bleach, some plastic bags, and several days of reflection, I have come to one very important conclusion: Thank the Good Lord for Puke.

I have so many reasons to thank God in this situation.

  1. I have a wonderful husband who was willing to help me with my sick child.  Many women are in this parenting thing all alone.
  2. I had an almost endless supply of towels to clean up after my child and a totally endless supply of clean, fresh water.   I just think about some poor woman living with her toddler in a grass hut somewhere.  I am sure they have rotavirus in grasshutistan.  This poor lady doesn’t have an endless supply of clean fresh linens and clean fresh water to take care of their child.  Heck, they do not have enough clean fresh water for their child to drink probably.  Look at me with all my clean fresh water and towels.
  3. Being a doctor,  I had a readily available supply of nausea medication to medicate my child with.   I didn’t have to make the choice to blow this month’s budget in order to take care of my sick child.
  4. I have wonderful people willing to help me with my sick child while I work that I can implicitly trust with her care.  Did you see where I said people?  As in several.  As in several people that I can trust with my sick child.   Some people have NO support like this in their life.

So, yeah, I think I am pretty lucky with this stomach virus thing.  It could be a lot worse and is for many.  Thank you Lord again for your goodness in showing me how great I have it. wp-1486785740138.jpg

 

Karma, or Dogs are Not Children

Traditionally, I have not gone home much for the holidays. During residency and early on in my medical practice I spent many holidays at the hospital.   Now that I have children, some of that has gone out the window, so we decided to make the trip home to my mother’s for Thanksgiving.   There are drawbacks. In the tradition of little old ladies everywhere, it is way too hot, also, NO HIGH SPEED INTERNET, or ANY internet for that matter. Bonuses include plentiful, delicious junk food, FREE Babysitting, and nostalgia.

On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, my husband and I were taking advantage of the free babysitting by taking a nap. This is an absolute luxury available exclusively at the grandparent’s.   Imagine my surprise when I woke up to discover that my mother had cut my 2 year old’s hair without consulting me.   I mean she had casually mentioned beforehand that she thought she need a haircut, and I may have casually joked, “Good luck holding her down for that,” but I didn’t actually expect her to do it without me present.   But, we were taking advantage of the free babysitting so I decided to bite my tongue.

The next day, Dr. Pepper arrives and greets my toddler with, “Oh, who’s a pretty girl?   Did you get a new haircut Z?”   I mutter something under my breath about mom cutting her hair while I was asleep without my consent, and suddenly with wide-eyed, maniacal glee, my brother turns on me cackling, “So HOW does it feel? How does it FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL?”

It took me a moment of thought to determine what he was referring to with such vigor. Suddenly I recalled an incident about three years ago, before my days of childbearing.   Dr. Pepper was at work and left his precious, angel, Lucky in my care. Please see picture below to include crazy-laser eyes (he gets those from his daddy).

 

2010-08-22_19-51-29_827

As you can see, Lucky looks like you took a Yorkie and supersized it.   He has “bangs” falling into his eyes chronically and on this particular day, he kept running into my table, walls, doors, etc. because HE COULD NOT see. So, I took it upon myself to do a grooming which Dr. Pepper claims he undertakes regularly.   It took a week, and a liter of industrial strength pipe cleaner to set my bathroom to rights after this grooming.   I gently trimmed his bangs so that he could see, and Dr. Pepper went absolutely ballistic. He started screaming about how grooming his dog’s hair was akin to assault and how he would one day cut my future children’s hair without permission.

It was at this point that I pointed out that DOGS ARE NOT CHILDREN, much to the chagrin of my own personal Neurotic Beagle.   I understand.   I really do.   I have been that childless individual over-fixated on my four legger.   I still love the snot out of Neurotic Beagle, but the idea of someone grooming her not to my specifications does not fill me with the ire that the grooming of my toddler can inspire.   I know that this was a moment of Karmic justice in the eyes of Dr. Pepper, but I maintain that DOGS ARE NOT CHILDREN.

 

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