Well, that was easy

A few weeks ago I wrote about the Monkey's very poor eating habits.  I don't know if I made it clear in that post, but most mealtimes were fraught with pleading and anger - from both sides.  He was pleading to be done or to have dessert, we were pleading for him to JUST TAKE ONE FRICKING BITE IT'S NOT GOING TO KILL YOU; he was angry because he had been fed something he didn't even want to try and because he wanted dessert, we were angry because he wouldn't JUST TAKE ONE FRICKING BITE IT'S NOT GOING TO KILL YOU!

 

Many times Hubby and I have discussed what we should do with the Monkey's extremely strong will to not eat anything that looked remotely healthy.  Many times we have come to the conclusion that we should just not show him that we care.  Many times we have resorted to the "take a bite, come on, please for me" routine.  Then it would turn into, now you have to take three bites before you can leave the table or get dessert.  Then it would turn into the Monkey asking how many bites he had to take to be done and get dessert before he even started the meal.  This pattern would replay itself many, many times.  Dinner was very, very painful to endure - to say the least.

 

This time I didn't discuss the game plan with Hubby.  

 

The Monkey would whine and moan about what was being served, my reply was "ok, you can be done if you want".  Then he would ask for dessert.  My response was "nope, if you want dessert you have to eat what is on your plate".  He would then proceed to whine some more.  Hubby would get upset that we were letting the Monkey win and that he had to eat dinner or else he'd be up too early because he was hungry.  My response to Hubby was that I was done fighting with the Monkey over what he ate.  He could either eat what we made for him or go hungry. 

 

Over the last two weeks something very bizarre happened.  Sometimes the Monkey would complain about what he was being fed, and then he'd get to the point where he would ask if he could be done with dinner.  When I would respond that he could be done, he would then ask for dessert.  After realizing that he wasn't going to get dessert, and that he actually was hungry, he would turn around and come back to the table and finish everything on his plate - regardless of what it was.  For the most part we were feeding him things that he would normally eat, albeit with a fight.

 

Last night we had something we never dreamed we could get him to eat, regardless of what the reward was.  We fed him stew with a side of rice.  He moaned the second we put it on the table, saying he didn't like it without even taking a bite.  He loves rice, so he ate that and said he was done.  Could he have dessert?  Nope, not until all the meat and potatoes were gone.  He said that he didn't want dessert and left the table.  The Monkey saw that the Chipmunk was gobbling up his yummy (to the Chipmunk, yucky to me (trust me, I see the irony)) pureed squash and would soon be having dessert (pureed bananas).  So, the Monkey turned around and came back to the table and ATE EVERY LAST PIECE OF MEAT AND POTATOES.  He even ate a slice of carrot.  With only the teeniest bit of complaining.

 

To say I'm thrilled is an understatement.

 

Some things

I'm writing this from my brand new HP Mini! We got it a few weeks ago and we're still getting used to the fact that we have a laptop again. And, not just any laptop, one that is just so wee! The smaller keyboard is taking some getting used to, but other than that it is just fabulous.

***

I just returned from a doctor's appointment. I didn't think anything was wrong with me. It was an appointment that was forced on me by the doctors office so I could continue getting my prescription for my blood pressure refilled. The nurse also said that they wanted to run some labs since it had been a while since they were done.

So, I went to the appointment at about 9:30 without having breakfast (because of the labs they wanted to do). I nearly hit the floor when the nurse showed me the blood pressure reading - 172/110! I had no idea it was even high, let alone that high. I've been taking my medication regularly, but now that I think about it my head has been hurting for the last two weeks or so. Hmmmm. I guess more drugs for me then. I hope nothing too terrible shows up on the bloodwork.

The right place at the right time

Casey is a goddess.  She has managed to do something that I have not been able to do for over a year now.

 

She got my Hubby to buy a new computer.

 

A few days ago I was reading this entry while Hubby was in the shower.  In that entry, she has you click over to her new review blog.  The review at the top of the page that day was about her awesome new HP mini.  So, by the time Hubby was out of the shower I had customized one for myself, on a whim.  I knew Hubby would never go for the girly red one for two reasons: it was red and had flowers on it and, it was way more expensive than the one with no flowers on it.  As soon as he saw it he told me to buy it.

 

So, for $425 we will be the proud new owners of the smallest laptop I have ever heard of.

 

At first we were a little unsure.  There were a couple of issues that popped up during the discussion of whether or not we should get it. 

 

First, it was an HP.  We had had a ton of problems with our last laptop, also made by HP (but sold to us under the Compaq name).  It's so old, I can't seem to find a link for it.  But, the reason we bought that particular laptop almost 4 years ago was because I thought that I was going to need one with a full sized keyboard because I needed the number 10-key for my job.  Turns out, I changed jobs about a month after getting the biggest/heaviest laptop known to man and had no use for it anymore.  Since then, the laptop has been dying a slow and painful death.  First, the motherboard had to be replaced twice in the first month that we owned it.  Second, the battery quit working completely about two years ago.  So much so, the computer wouldn't work at all when the battery was in the computer.  It's been without a battery since 2007.  Finally, it just stopped turning on about three months ago.  However, somehow, we got over the HP name pretty quickly, just not sure how.

 

Second, it didn't come with a cd drive.  This took a little longer to get over.  The mini had an external drive you could purchase for $99, but that seemed to bring the cost of the laptop into the Dell range where the cd drive is internal.  So, since we didn't want to spend another $100, how were we supposed to get any software on this computer?  It turns out that we can take the cd drive (also a dvd burner) out of the crappy 4-year old laptop that died last year, pay $20 for some sort of case, and connect it to the mini via a USB cable.  Problem Solved!

 

So, HP will build our new laptop in the next week or so and all will be right in the world.  Yay!

 

Thank you, Casey.

Sleep is not for the weak

Not only do I have a kid who doesn't make it absolutely clear that his ears are killing him (poor Chipmunk), but it appears I have a kid who will sleep through the night as long as his bum is not swimming in crap - painfully sore ears be damned!

Adventure's in motherhood. Or, you know, why I'm a horrible mother.

The Chipmunk woke up at 2am. 

 

I waited a little to see if he would go back to sleep, which he did after a little bit of on-again/off-again fussing - nothing major.  But then he woke up again.  I figured that since he had only had 15 ounces of formula yesterday (his normal is about 24) I should go in and try and feed him so we could both go back to sleep. 

 

I prepared the bottle and went into his room to change his diaper.

 

As I walked into his bedroom I smelled something foul.  Just to make sure it was coming from him (where else would it be coming from?  Hey, it was 2am, give me a break) I picked him up and took a whiff of his bum (shut up, you've done it too).  I nearly passed out from the smell. 

Realizing that I was going to need the wipes (ya think?) that were in our bedroom, I put him down and blood-curdling screaming ensued. 

 

Hmmm, that's weird.  Normally he just does a little more fussing until I return.  Oh well, he's probably just as upset as I am that he wasn't sleeping through the night (I've come to expect it now - I know, what was I thinking?), or at least that's what I think as I left the room (it's 2am people!).

 

After: procurement of said wipes, unzipping his sleep sack, and opening his pj's - I realize that I didn't hear the alert (danger! danger! blowout! blowout!) and that I would need to light on for this diaper change.  There was crap everywhere!

 

I begin cleaning him up, holding back my own vomit.  With every wipe comes an even louder blood-curdling scream.  The poor thing, who went to bed with a very dry, very white bum had the reddest, weltiest bum I had ever seen. 

 

Finally, Hubby hears what is going on and comes in to see what I'm doing to the Chipmunk to cause such screaming (why assume I'm doing something to him?  I don't think I've been known to abuse our children - especially in the middle of the night - no, I save the abuse for the daylight hours (kidding)). 

 

I thank god he's awake so he can get the diaper rash cream for me before I put a new diaper back on.  Also very thankful because now Hubby can change the sheet on the crib mattress I can't reach with one hand (you know, since screaming bloody murder baby won't let me put him down).

 

After the Chipmunk settles down he decides that yes, a bottle of milk would be great right about now.  Hubby goes back to sleep, and chug chug chug, so does the Chipmunk. 

 

Repeat at 5:30, except for the bottle and the going back to sleep.

 

At the 2am debacle it was already decided that the Chipmunk would not be attending daycare today.  Not fair on him, and definitely not fair on daycare lady (or, you know, the other parents who expect their kids to not come home with the bum plague).  And, because I used all of my paid time off last summer for my maternity leave, Hubby will be staying home with him.

 

However, before I leave for work, I make a trip to Walgreens for some Pedialyte. 

 

The bottle says to ask a doctor if giving to a kid under one. 

 

The Chipmunk is under one.

 

Hmmmm. 

 

It's 6:30 in the morning at this point, the doctor's office is not open.  So, I opt for the next best thing - the pharmacist.  He says to give the baby a 50% Pedialyte and 50% water mixture for now, but call the doctor when the office opens.

 

Giving the mixture to the Chipmunk is easier said than done.

 

The Chipmunk is no fool.  Evidently, he knows the evil taste of Pedialyte before I am even able to get the bottle close to his mouth - forget about in it.

 

I let the Hubby know that I was not having any luck but I had to go to work and that I'd call the doctor's office at 8am.  Good luck!

 

I got a hold of the nurse practitioner as soon as possible.  She asks questions like:

    "How often is the diarrhea?"  Um, about every three hours.

    "Is he running a fever?"  I think so, he's awfully warm.  Tylenol did not help, but Motrin did.

    "Try not to give him Motrin."  Doh!

More conversation about what I can give him to eat and drink.  Blah, blah, blah.  If he's still not better within 48 hours bring him in, within 24 hours and still running a fever bring him in.

 

Then she asks:

    "Are his poo's bright green and unbelievably smelly?"  Um, yes.  And they were the consistency of cottage cheese yesterday.

    "Oh.  Bring him in today.  It sounds like it's the Rotavirus."  Um, ok.

Appointment is scheduled and Hubby is called with the time.

 

After the appointment, Hubby calls to tell me that it's not the dreaded Rotavirus, but that the Chipmunk has a double ear infection. 

 

Wha???  How is that possible?  I thought he had a stomach virus?  Nope. No clue what is up with the diarrhea and the welty bum.  So, she gave Hubby some stuff for the Chipmunk's welty bum, some soy formula to make his poo's more solid, and a prescription for an antibiotic

 

I mean, I know he's been tugging at his left ear on and off for about 10 days now, but that's all.  He's more or less been as happy as his normal eight month old self.

 

Oh right.  That.  Hmmm, I guess I should have paid more attention to that.  The poor thing has been suffering for almost two weeks and I completely ignored his way of telling me!

 

And that, my friends, is why I am a horrible mother. 

 

Email me and I can give you the address of where you can send my awards to.

 

 

 

No Headgear Needed

Phew!

We took the Chipmunk to the Neurosurgeon today. Thankfully, his torticollis induced misshaped head is nothing dire. It does not need to be fixed with either surgery (if I were religious I might be putting in an AMEN here, but I'm not, so I won't) or a helmet. The doc says that the Chipmunk will grow out of it by the time he's two.

Like I said - Phew!