Yesterday was my first day back to work since I was placed on bedrest on April 8th.
For some working moms, the transition back to work is tough. I can't say that it is terribly difficult for me because each time I've gone back to work, Scott has had an additional week or so of paternity leave during which he cares for the new baby. And, given that I love and trust the man enough to want to have a gaggle of children with him, I have absolutely no qualms about leaving him alone with our kids, even as itty-bitty infants.
I just deleted a Judgy McJudgerson paragraph about choosing to have kids with someone you don't trust. It's too early in the morning (4 a.m.) for snark.
And this is how the summer will go: mommy works until noon, then comes home. Not a bad gig, let me tell you -- I get to come to work where I can choose whether or not to have music playing and definitely don't have children fighting all around me all day and then, about the time that I start to miss everyone, I get to come home and take over house mama duties so that Scott can work int he yard or go to meetings or whatever. And then we all get to hang in the evenings. Well, if hanging out includes t-ball games and swimming lessons, which it does this month.
Anyway, I came home from my easy first day back to pull into our driveway and be greeted by raucous giggling. And two blonde children who came dancing out from their hiding place behind Daddy's truck wearing nothing but swim diapers. Keep in mind that neither of these children have worn diapers for eons and that the diapers they had on were for babied up to 24 pounds. It made me pretty glad that we live out in the middle of nowhere...
Oh, and the babies were just fine, too.
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Friday, July 30, 2010
E is for Everything and That's Good Enough for Meee!
Hello, there. I haven't fallen off the bloggy face of the planet, I promise. But the last week has been a whirlwind and I have simply been to busy living that thing called life to sit and type. Bad blogger, bad, bad, bad... I know. This is probably why I'll never crack 100 subscribers in my Google Connect box, why I won't see more than 32 hits a day, why no one will remembah my name, fame!
Whoops! Giddy random posting ahead. That means Kahlua and cream at bedtime, but I'm not sleepy, so I'm post-y instead. So here's some delightful randomness from the last coulpe of weeks:
Violet mispronounces the word "noise" as "nows." This never fails to amuse me, mostly because, though this is consistent, Scott can't remember it from one use to the next. So she'll ask him, "What's that nows?" and he looks all Mr. Magoo befuddled. Hee!
We got Milo's school supply list and I'll be taking him shopping tomorrow for pencils, glue sticks, and other assorted Kindergarten stuffs. Squee!
Violet can pedal a tricycle. Which is more than I can say for poor Milo and his bike. He hasn't gotten the idea on the two-wheeler (plus training wheels) of how to use gravity to help you. As a result, he thinks he needs to practically park his bum on his back tire to get his bike started. Whee!
Completely to my surprise, some of our wimpy tomato plants are starting to bear fruit. I'm going to go out and thread them through some tomato cages tomorrow to see if we can ripen some. Who loves tomatoes? Me!
Violet is asking to use the potty at some very odd times. At least it means she's not getting out of the pool to squat and fill her already sodden swimmy diaper (aka tinkle down her leg). Pee!
My lovely supervisor at work has moved on to another organization, moving onward and upward in the world. Which means that one of two things will happen: I'll kick some heinie when I interview for her job or I'll have to train another supervisor. EEEeee!!
And now I'm sleepy. What does that mean? zzzzzzzzeee....
Whoops! Giddy random posting ahead. That means Kahlua and cream at bedtime, but I'm not sleepy, so I'm post-y instead. So here's some delightful randomness from the last coulpe of weeks:
Violet mispronounces the word "noise" as "nows." This never fails to amuse me, mostly because, though this is consistent, Scott can't remember it from one use to the next. So she'll ask him, "What's that nows?" and he looks all Mr. Magoo befuddled. Hee!
We got Milo's school supply list and I'll be taking him shopping tomorrow for pencils, glue sticks, and other assorted Kindergarten stuffs. Squee!
Violet can pedal a tricycle. Which is more than I can say for poor Milo and his bike. He hasn't gotten the idea on the two-wheeler (plus training wheels) of how to use gravity to help you. As a result, he thinks he needs to practically park his bum on his back tire to get his bike started. Whee!
Completely to my surprise, some of our wimpy tomato plants are starting to bear fruit. I'm going to go out and thread them through some tomato cages tomorrow to see if we can ripen some. Who loves tomatoes? Me!
Violet is asking to use the potty at some very odd times. At least it means she's not getting out of the pool to squat and fill her already sodden swimmy diaper (aka tinkle down her leg). Pee!
My lovely supervisor at work has moved on to another organization, moving onward and upward in the world. Which means that one of two things will happen: I'll kick some heinie when I interview for her job or I'll have to train another supervisor. EEEeee!!
And now I'm sleepy. What does that mean? zzzzzzzzeee....
Monday, June 7, 2010
Insomnia
Ah-ah-ah-insomnia-ah-ah!
I know why it's happening, but I'm not sure how to make it stop because it is all stress related. When I type stress, imagine it with 60,000 lightning bolts arcing around it, the metallic taste of ozone creeping into your mouth. Electric blue stress, with a side of last-adult-standing.
What's goin' on to make me stressed? Eh, a couple of things.
1. The miscarriage. As it stands right now, another phebotomist rolled another vein in my right arm, so I had to attend a wedding on Friday night with a nasty bruise and some track marks on the inside of my elbow. I solved this issue by always carrying a glass of wine -- brilliant! Friday night, my poor hubby had to insert four pills of Cytotec into my girly parts to medically induce a miscarriage. After reading horror stories online, I was too chicken to administer the meds myself. No horror story for me, though, as it didn't work. Well, it worked well enough that I had some crap-tastic diarrhea and was limp as a wet noodle all day Saturday, but I didn't finish the miscarriage, or maybe I didn't need to. I don't know anymore. I have an ultrasound scheduled for the 21st to see what's-a-going-on-in-there. Yippee!
2. Violet had a tummy bug. And now, every time one of the kids moves at night, I hear it on the monitor and think someone's drowning in puke in their bed. I jolt out of bed and tear into her room, searching for signs of vomit, then return empty-handed to repeat this ritual in 34 seconds. This has caused me so much anxiety that I have actually spent part of the last few nights snoozing on the futon where I can't hear the baby monitor. I'd turn it off, but Scott actually likes it. Maybe I'll just turn it off anyway.
3. Speaking of Scott, he's waist deep in a production, as he always is this time of year. Tech rehearsals kept him out of the house on Saturday when I was winning the couch-parenting-mother-of-the-year award and will tonight and tomorrow night. So now I've got to chase Violet around the playground during Milo's t-ball practice again. Because that was super-fun last week. And will be super-fun on Wednesday, too.
4. Scott is heading out of town. Yep, he'll be installing a set in Texas this week. Yay for the rental fee, yay for the per diem travel, and yay for the wages to install it, but BOO to Scott being gone. Boo, hiss...
5. Milo's birthday party is approaching. Which means cleaning and preparing for a party. And hoping that kids come... I've only had three RSVPs (two yes, one no) out of 10 invites. They aren't due until the 10th, so hopefully a few more will come through.
6. I'm gearing up to go to part-time status at the beginning of July. Trying to get as much done before then. And with classes out, the only living things in the basement of this building are me and the bugs. Did I mention that spiders creep me out? Well, they do.
7. My garden and plants aren't responding and growing as well as I'd hoped they would. Sure, some things are doing really well (corn, beans, zucchini, onions) but the ones I really want to eat (broccoli, tomatoes, and cauliflower) aren't. Some of the peppers are and some aren't. I got some organic fertilizer to see if that will make a difference... Now to find the time to use it.
8. I need to renew my driver's license and file for a homestead tax credit. OK, not real big stressors here, but stuff that does need to be done. Speaking of which, why hasn't my license plate renewal notice arrived? Better check into that, too.
9. Violet is trying to potty train. Sometimes. When it seems appropriate. Or darn inconvenient. Her little voice doesn't seem to carry the same sort of insistence that Milo's did when he was in that stage. Sometimes it sounds like she's singing, other times it sounds like she's asking for a drink. "My need tinkle" sounds a bit like "My need dwink!" doesn't it?
10. My allergies and sunburn have left me feeling totally itchy. And like I just don't want to be touched. At all. By anyone. And everyone I know wants to sit in my lap, cuddle me, snuggle me, sleep on me, sleep with me, squash me, and climb on me. I just don't seem to have any tolerance right now. Maybe a few nights sleeping in my bed all by myself with the monitor off will do the trick? Even if they don't that's still what's going to happen.
I know why it's happening, but I'm not sure how to make it stop because it is all stress related. When I type stress, imagine it with 60,000 lightning bolts arcing around it, the metallic taste of ozone creeping into your mouth. Electric blue stress, with a side of last-adult-standing.
What's goin' on to make me stressed? Eh, a couple of things.
1. The miscarriage. As it stands right now, another phebotomist rolled another vein in my right arm, so I had to attend a wedding on Friday night with a nasty bruise and some track marks on the inside of my elbow. I solved this issue by always carrying a glass of wine -- brilliant! Friday night, my poor hubby had to insert four pills of Cytotec into my girly parts to medically induce a miscarriage. After reading horror stories online, I was too chicken to administer the meds myself. No horror story for me, though, as it didn't work. Well, it worked well enough that I had some crap-tastic diarrhea and was limp as a wet noodle all day Saturday, but I didn't finish the miscarriage, or maybe I didn't need to. I don't know anymore. I have an ultrasound scheduled for the 21st to see what's-a-going-on-in-there. Yippee!
2. Violet had a tummy bug. And now, every time one of the kids moves at night, I hear it on the monitor and think someone's drowning in puke in their bed. I jolt out of bed and tear into her room, searching for signs of vomit, then return empty-handed to repeat this ritual in 34 seconds. This has caused me so much anxiety that I have actually spent part of the last few nights snoozing on the futon where I can't hear the baby monitor. I'd turn it off, but Scott actually likes it. Maybe I'll just turn it off anyway.
3. Speaking of Scott, he's waist deep in a production, as he always is this time of year. Tech rehearsals kept him out of the house on Saturday when I was winning the couch-parenting-mother-of-the-year award and will tonight and tomorrow night. So now I've got to chase Violet around the playground during Milo's t-ball practice again. Because that was super-fun last week. And will be super-fun on Wednesday, too.
4. Scott is heading out of town. Yep, he'll be installing a set in Texas this week. Yay for the rental fee, yay for the per diem travel, and yay for the wages to install it, but BOO to Scott being gone. Boo, hiss...
5. Milo's birthday party is approaching. Which means cleaning and preparing for a party. And hoping that kids come... I've only had three RSVPs (two yes, one no) out of 10 invites. They aren't due until the 10th, so hopefully a few more will come through.
6. I'm gearing up to go to part-time status at the beginning of July. Trying to get as much done before then. And with classes out, the only living things in the basement of this building are me and the bugs. Did I mention that spiders creep me out? Well, they do.
7. My garden and plants aren't responding and growing as well as I'd hoped they would. Sure, some things are doing really well (corn, beans, zucchini, onions) but the ones I really want to eat (broccoli, tomatoes, and cauliflower) aren't. Some of the peppers are and some aren't. I got some organic fertilizer to see if that will make a difference... Now to find the time to use it.
8. I need to renew my driver's license and file for a homestead tax credit. OK, not real big stressors here, but stuff that does need to be done. Speaking of which, why hasn't my license plate renewal notice arrived? Better check into that, too.
9. Violet is trying to potty train. Sometimes. When it seems appropriate. Or darn inconvenient. Her little voice doesn't seem to carry the same sort of insistence that Milo's did when he was in that stage. Sometimes it sounds like she's singing, other times it sounds like she's asking for a drink. "My need tinkle" sounds a bit like "My need dwink!" doesn't it?
10. My allergies and sunburn have left me feeling totally itchy. And like I just don't want to be touched. At all. By anyone. And everyone I know wants to sit in my lap, cuddle me, snuggle me, sleep on me, sleep with me, squash me, and climb on me. I just don't seem to have any tolerance right now. Maybe a few nights sleeping in my bed all by myself with the monitor off will do the trick? Even if they don't that's still what's going to happen.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Running in Pumps
I made a big boo-boo today. I was in a meeting and lost track of time until a co-worker asked me, "Don't you have to take your son to school?"
"Yes," I said. "At 12:15."
"It's 12:32."
PANIC! Danger, Will Robinson! And then that crazy sqwaking alarm from "Emergency!" AAAh-oooh-EEEEE!
Then mama was slamming her feet into her shoes, jamming her arms into her sweater, and cramming her coat under her arm.
Clack, clack, clack, clack as I speedwalk through the student union so that I don't look like a complete dork in front of the entire student body, or at least the ones waiting in line for food service.
Stamp, stamp, stamp, stamp as I climb the steps of terror. You can see the ground in between the steps and I have a fear of heights, so it was a Major Accomplishment for me to haul up this staircase, right up the middle and without clinging to the handrail like it was a ski tow rope.
Click, click on the tile for the two steps until I hit the doors.
Then SPRINT! Mama's running across campus in heels. Mama's running downhill perilously fast in pumps. Mama gets to the car, does an illegal U-turn while buckling her seat belt, drives three blocks to the sitter's, where an anxiously waiting man-child greets me at the door.
"I'm-oh-so-sorry-I-was-in-a-meeting-and-am-so-sorry-I'm-late! Let's-get-in-the-car-fast!" He can get in the car fast because it is still runnning and his door is flung wide open. Like a good little rabbit, he scurries to the car and into his seat.
While I'm buckling him, he asks in a quivering voice, "How many minutes?" As in how many minutes before we're late.
"Umm..." I falter. He's self-conscious enough that telling him we're late will freak him out. "One minute!" I say.
"That's not much time, mom..."
"Nope. But we'll get there. It's only five blocks and when we're on time there are always kids getting there after we do."
"Yeah, but everyone's going to stare at me."
"No they won't! Look -- those kids are late, too!" I had spied a daycare provider with four kids in tow arriving only a moment before we parked. "we'll be just fine! I'll unzip your coat when I unbuckle your carseat and we can take it off before we get into your room. I'll even carry it and your backpack, so all we need to do is find you name over your hook and then you can play, okay?'
Thankfully, the plan worked and he was in his class a mere four minutes late (my co-worker's watch was three minutes fast). And me? Well... I'm not flushed and sweaty anymore and my feet aren't screaming with blisters, so I'll consider that a winning performance. Whew!
"Yes," I said. "At 12:15."
"It's 12:32."
PANIC! Danger, Will Robinson! And then that crazy sqwaking alarm from "Emergency!" AAAh-oooh-EEEEE!
Then mama was slamming her feet into her shoes, jamming her arms into her sweater, and cramming her coat under her arm.
Clack, clack, clack, clack as I speedwalk through the student union so that I don't look like a complete dork in front of the entire student body, or at least the ones waiting in line for food service.
Stamp, stamp, stamp, stamp as I climb the steps of terror. You can see the ground in between the steps and I have a fear of heights, so it was a Major Accomplishment for me to haul up this staircase, right up the middle and without clinging to the handrail like it was a ski tow rope.
Click, click on the tile for the two steps until I hit the doors.
Then SPRINT! Mama's running across campus in heels. Mama's running downhill perilously fast in pumps. Mama gets to the car, does an illegal U-turn while buckling her seat belt, drives three blocks to the sitter's, where an anxiously waiting man-child greets me at the door.
"I'm-oh-so-sorry-I-was-in-a-meeting-and-am-so-sorry-I'm-late! Let's-get-in-the-car-fast!" He can get in the car fast because it is still runnning and his door is flung wide open. Like a good little rabbit, he scurries to the car and into his seat.
While I'm buckling him, he asks in a quivering voice, "How many minutes?" As in how many minutes before we're late.
"Umm..." I falter. He's self-conscious enough that telling him we're late will freak him out. "One minute!" I say.
"That's not much time, mom..."
"Nope. But we'll get there. It's only five blocks and when we're on time there are always kids getting there after we do."
"Yeah, but everyone's going to stare at me."
"No they won't! Look -- those kids are late, too!" I had spied a daycare provider with four kids in tow arriving only a moment before we parked. "we'll be just fine! I'll unzip your coat when I unbuckle your carseat and we can take it off before we get into your room. I'll even carry it and your backpack, so all we need to do is find you name over your hook and then you can play, okay?'
Thankfully, the plan worked and he was in his class a mere four minutes late (my co-worker's watch was three minutes fast). And me? Well... I'm not flushed and sweaty anymore and my feet aren't screaming with blisters, so I'll consider that a winning performance. Whew!
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Bum, bum, bum, bum, buuuummmmm!
Hmmm... It's been a while since I've blogged, huh?
OK. QUITE a while... Like, two weeks. What have I been up to?
Work: Busy, busy, busy... roll-out events, guests on campus, redoing the budget forms for one of my programs, on and on -- good, yes. Unfortunately the college is struggling with budgetary issues and it sounds like Scott and I will both be receiving a 2% pay cut next year. Ouch! And the college will be reducing their contribution to our retirement accounts, boo, hiss... We'll be OK overall, but it's not gonna be a fun year by any means, and who knows what will happen next year.
Play: Scott's been hard at work on the kids' playset -- it now has rubber mulch underneath and a roof on the platform -- very cute. I think we'll stain it caramel color and paint the roof green to match the hardware. On to more landscaping stuff -- before the dogs smash all of the hostas that I just transplanted. I think I foresee a big dumpster in our future and a week of Scotty cleaning out and throwing away crap from the garage.
Other: Scott was in NYC from the 17-22 for the Broadway Lighting Master Classes. I think he got something from them, though maybe not as much as he expected. Ah, well... He did get to eat some pretty good food and see some good shows, something about which I am infinitely jealous.
Kids: Both kids are doing pretty well. Violet cracked me up yesterday as she drung me down the hall at the Olinger's to the chair where I usually nurse her when we're out there. She said, "Mere, Mom!" and took my finger and pulled me down the hall. She pointed to the chair and said, "You sit here. Nursing you!" I guess she wanted to nurse... Then, while nursing, she smacked me with an open handed slap on my belly, giggled and said, "I'm so silly! I silly!" Although it was likely the wrong thing to do, I couldn't help but giggle... She has also taken to shaving years off my life by vaulting off of the top platform of the swingset into my arms -- whether or not I knew that she was going to do it... Scares the heck outta me...
She's also been protesting her diaper. "My bum! My bum! My bum!" she says... Yes, it is your bum, but until your bum knows how to use the potty, your bum will be in a diaper. And not the one that you put on yourself... You know, the backwards one jammed between your legs that leaves your whole backside hanging in the wind... Yeah... Your bum will be in the diaper I put it in, little missy! "No, it's MY bum!" appears to be a battle cry.
Milo has been a conundrum lately -- he's so whiny that I think he's forgotten how to talk using a regular voice, but then he'll be startlingly sweet and kind about the most unexpected things. On Tuesday night, I took the kids to Subway solo because I was starting to feel icky and didn't really want to cook. I managed to get their food ordered, no small feat considering that the kids working the counter had smaller attention spans than my children. We sat down at the table and as I was portioning out food, Violet spilled half of her milk on the table. We had two napkins. Two... Who thought THAT was a good idea? After I finally managed to get another four napkins from the dimwitted teenaged cashier and mop up the mess, I sat down to eat with my left hand and help Violet with my right. Milo was sitting across the booth from us, eagerly chowing down on his "foot-long" (a six-inch spicy Italian). He watched me carefully -- feedign a toddler in a restaurant is akin to training an octopus -- and remarked softly, "Wow, mom, it looks like it is hard to eat and take care of someone at the same time." Yeah, that's my sweetie... Tears sprung to my eyes as his little round face looked at me with admiration. Yep, that pretty much made me feel like a heel for being annoyed with him whining mere minutes before...
And onto what has occupied the majority of my week: a sudden and harsh case of pneumonia. Completely out of the blue. As in Tuesday morning I wake up sneezing and think, "Gee, my allergies are pretty annoying today" and Wednesday at noon I'm trying to convince a doctor that I don't have swine flu and that I don't need to be hospitalized. Although I do apparently need a chest x-ray, in-office nebulizer treatment, a shot in the bum (rocephrine), two oral antibiotics (zythromax and augmentin), oral steroids, albuterol in both nebulizer and inhaler forms, and ibuprofen for the 102 degree fever. So not cool. I'm still hacking and I have oh-so-sexy man voice. What fun! I paid a sitter to sleep at the house in case I needed help Wednesday night and was off work until today.
I just can't believe how crazy it is that I haven't been sick in ages, then both times I get flat-on-my-back SICK sick, Scott's out of town. I managed to get some rest this weekend, but the kids wanted to be outside with daddy as he worked on their playset, so that meant supervising them outdoors, where my allergies aren't likely to speed recovery. I needed a day to loll about in bed, but aside from a Thursday morning nap, that didn't really happen, either. Oh, I was plenty lazy, but I didn't really REST rest, if you know what I mean. Thursday night Milo woke up croupy at 2 AM, so he and I were snuggled on the deck for a while, then I brought him back to bed with me -- not particularly relaxing as he flipped sideways in the bed and actually kicked me in the face. Then I rescued him three times from falling onto the floor. So not too much sleep that night, either. Violet has been waking once a night again, but I am luckily able to nurse her for a few minutes, then put her back down and she rolls right over onto her tummy, bum in the air. Anyway -- Milo went to the doctor where he was diagnosed with a cold and croup and prescribed steroids, which I will not give to him. Are you kidding me? He's amped up and whiny enough as it is -- I can't imagine him roid raging on top of being almost four... no way, baby!
In the meantime, the crazy amount of antibiotics in my system have done two good things and a bad thing. The bad thing, of course, is destroy the good flora in my digestive tract. Hence my yogurt all the time diet. The good things? Well, the pneumonia has been tamed into a bad chest cold. And the skin on my face is pristine! Who knew...
OK. QUITE a while... Like, two weeks. What have I been up to?
Work: Busy, busy, busy... roll-out events, guests on campus, redoing the budget forms for one of my programs, on and on -- good, yes. Unfortunately the college is struggling with budgetary issues and it sounds like Scott and I will both be receiving a 2% pay cut next year. Ouch! And the college will be reducing their contribution to our retirement accounts, boo, hiss... We'll be OK overall, but it's not gonna be a fun year by any means, and who knows what will happen next year.
Play: Scott's been hard at work on the kids' playset -- it now has rubber mulch underneath and a roof on the platform -- very cute. I think we'll stain it caramel color and paint the roof green to match the hardware. On to more landscaping stuff -- before the dogs smash all of the hostas that I just transplanted. I think I foresee a big dumpster in our future and a week of Scotty cleaning out and throwing away crap from the garage.
Other: Scott was in NYC from the 17-22 for the Broadway Lighting Master Classes. I think he got something from them, though maybe not as much as he expected. Ah, well... He did get to eat some pretty good food and see some good shows, something about which I am infinitely jealous.
Kids: Both kids are doing pretty well. Violet cracked me up yesterday as she drung me down the hall at the Olinger's to the chair where I usually nurse her when we're out there. She said, "Mere, Mom!" and took my finger and pulled me down the hall. She pointed to the chair and said, "You sit here. Nursing you!" I guess she wanted to nurse... Then, while nursing, she smacked me with an open handed slap on my belly, giggled and said, "I'm so silly! I silly!" Although it was likely the wrong thing to do, I couldn't help but giggle... She has also taken to shaving years off my life by vaulting off of the top platform of the swingset into my arms -- whether or not I knew that she was going to do it... Scares the heck outta me...
She's also been protesting her diaper. "My bum! My bum! My bum!" she says... Yes, it is your bum, but until your bum knows how to use the potty, your bum will be in a diaper. And not the one that you put on yourself... You know, the backwards one jammed between your legs that leaves your whole backside hanging in the wind... Yeah... Your bum will be in the diaper I put it in, little missy! "No, it's MY bum!" appears to be a battle cry.
Milo has been a conundrum lately -- he's so whiny that I think he's forgotten how to talk using a regular voice, but then he'll be startlingly sweet and kind about the most unexpected things. On Tuesday night, I took the kids to Subway solo because I was starting to feel icky and didn't really want to cook. I managed to get their food ordered, no small feat considering that the kids working the counter had smaller attention spans than my children. We sat down at the table and as I was portioning out food, Violet spilled half of her milk on the table. We had two napkins. Two... Who thought THAT was a good idea? After I finally managed to get another four napkins from the dimwitted teenaged cashier and mop up the mess, I sat down to eat with my left hand and help Violet with my right. Milo was sitting across the booth from us, eagerly chowing down on his "foot-long" (a six-inch spicy Italian). He watched me carefully -- feedign a toddler in a restaurant is akin to training an octopus -- and remarked softly, "Wow, mom, it looks like it is hard to eat and take care of someone at the same time." Yeah, that's my sweetie... Tears sprung to my eyes as his little round face looked at me with admiration. Yep, that pretty much made me feel like a heel for being annoyed with him whining mere minutes before...
And onto what has occupied the majority of my week: a sudden and harsh case of pneumonia. Completely out of the blue. As in Tuesday morning I wake up sneezing and think, "Gee, my allergies are pretty annoying today" and Wednesday at noon I'm trying to convince a doctor that I don't have swine flu and that I don't need to be hospitalized. Although I do apparently need a chest x-ray, in-office nebulizer treatment, a shot in the bum (rocephrine), two oral antibiotics (zythromax and augmentin), oral steroids, albuterol in both nebulizer and inhaler forms, and ibuprofen for the 102 degree fever. So not cool. I'm still hacking and I have oh-so-sexy man voice. What fun! I paid a sitter to sleep at the house in case I needed help Wednesday night and was off work until today.
I just can't believe how crazy it is that I haven't been sick in ages, then both times I get flat-on-my-back SICK sick, Scott's out of town. I managed to get some rest this weekend, but the kids wanted to be outside with daddy as he worked on their playset, so that meant supervising them outdoors, where my allergies aren't likely to speed recovery. I needed a day to loll about in bed, but aside from a Thursday morning nap, that didn't really happen, either. Oh, I was plenty lazy, but I didn't really REST rest, if you know what I mean. Thursday night Milo woke up croupy at 2 AM, so he and I were snuggled on the deck for a while, then I brought him back to bed with me -- not particularly relaxing as he flipped sideways in the bed and actually kicked me in the face. Then I rescued him three times from falling onto the floor. So not too much sleep that night, either. Violet has been waking once a night again, but I am luckily able to nurse her for a few minutes, then put her back down and she rolls right over onto her tummy, bum in the air. Anyway -- Milo went to the doctor where he was diagnosed with a cold and croup and prescribed steroids, which I will not give to him. Are you kidding me? He's amped up and whiny enough as it is -- I can't imagine him roid raging on top of being almost four... no way, baby!
In the meantime, the crazy amount of antibiotics in my system have done two good things and a bad thing. The bad thing, of course, is destroy the good flora in my digestive tract. Hence my yogurt all the time diet. The good things? Well, the pneumonia has been tamed into a bad chest cold. And the skin on my face is pristine! Who knew...
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