I heard moaning and the distinct floor creeks announcing the urgent pitter-patter of little feet racing toward me. When I blearily looked at the clock red fuzzy lines across my room, they formed somewhat of a 4 a.m. shape.
“Ah! Ah! Ah! I hafta go pee pee!!!” a potty-dancing Destroy whimpered. He darted into the bathroom and I waved him back to bed with a hug. I thought that was the end of that.
It wasn’t. Continue reading
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I was just finishing up a project after spending the wee hours of the morning driving down to Gramma and Papa’s house. I signed off, “Without further ado…”
“Don’t you mean adieu?” inquired Gramma J.
Did I? Ah, mother. “When you depart from me sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave.” (Apparently from Shakespeare’s “Much Adieu About Nothing.”) Perhaps this called for a song to appropriately end a conversation of such foolish or unnecessary talk. “So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, adieu. Ado, adieu, to yieu and yieu and yooo…”
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I spent the morning convincing Destroy that Darth Vader was not a superhero to be sported on superhero day at school. (The boys’ preschool class isn’t allowed to do Halloween costumes.)
So when evening rolled around, Search and Destroy were eager to take over the world’s candy supply as the costumed duo, Prince Charming and Darth Vader.
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It was supposed to be a footloose, fun and fancy-free girl’s weekend on the beach. We’d been planning our getaway for almost six months. Because when you’re a mom, these things take time to organize.
It was supposed to be. It was not. Continue reading
Given the title of this post, I’m sure you will be utterly SHOCKED to hear that one of the little men became so overwhelmed with the excitement of Christmas that he regurgitated yesterday’s breakfast.
I think his brother, Destroy, was just thankful Santa hadn’t stolen his soul in the dark of night. Continue reading
I got the call this afternoon that the fever was back. 101.7.
Dammit.
Back on the phone with the doctor. “You know, we typically like to see them if the fever remains for over 72 hours,” the advice nurse informed me. I reminded her that we’d just been there and was now calling back per medical instruction. Continue reading
It makes my heart hurt to see my little man lying next to me listlessly. Breath heavy, cheeks flushed. Those sad eyes only a child can wield.
It’s only a cold. It’s only the flu. It should break soon. He should feel better soon. It could be worse. Continue reading
Worst cold and flu season. Ever. To be continued from the Sunday Post – the muppets are sick again.
To be fair, this is only the second one they’ve endured. And that whole preemie thing put us mostly in isolation for the last one – minus the doctor visits for RSV shots and ER runs for the sniffles when Mommy panicked. So we don’t really have a HUGE comparison.
So, being the wild child(s) we are, we enrolled the muppets in daycare. Because nothing says maturity like a runny nose lasting five months. Straight. Continue reading
I still get nervous when I see the preschool principal calling. Destroy had a fever that had already spiked to 102. He needed to be picked up within the hour. It was one of those days.
His teacher carried Destroy around the corner. His head was listlessly lolled against her chest; his little face was flushed bright red. He certainly plays the sick man well. He looked up at me, and with sad toddler eyes, shared, “Ohhh no…” He hadn’t eaten his lunch. Destroy was definitely sick. Not eating let me know with unequivocal certainty that something was wrong. Continue reading
