Jan 252012
 

My kids have all taken turns sharing a respiratory funk over the last few weeks that I was lucky enough to catch as well.  Of course that’s what happens when a sick toddler tries to put one of her boogers in your nose.

I was down and out for most of last week, and I swear I looked like Gweneth Paltrow in Contagion.

Someone said, ‘at least you can pull off Gweneth Paltrow,’ which let me know they obviously hadn’t seen the movie.

Now that we’re right in the peak of cold and flu season, most of us have fallen ill at least once thanks to a nasty virus or bacteria. I’m certainly not alone there.

While at the doctor’s office last week, I was amused by a poster for ‘Avoiding the Flu’ which featured helpful tips for staying well.  Posters of this nature do offer some sound advice, but when you have small children, you really need to be very specific when trying to teach them these wellness tips.  As a parent, you may also find that these suggestions may need to be tailored to suit your own needs.

General Tip #1: Wash your hands frequently, especially before preparing or eating food.

Specific Kid’s Tip #1: Not all water is the same. When your older brother is at the sink, it is best to wait your turn instead of soaping up your hands and rinsing them in the toilet.

General Tip #2: Most cold and flu germs enter your body through your mouth, nose or eyes. Therefore keep your hands off your face which should help prevent germs from entering your system.

Specific Kid’s Tip #2: Having your sibling pick your booger for you will prevent germs from spreading from your finger into your nose; however, it will not prevent your sibling’s germs from entering your system. Please use a tissue in this instance.

General Tip # 3:  Get a flu shot if your doctor recommends it. Although it isn’t a guarantee, getting a flu shot each year is one of the best ways to prevent the flu.

Specific Kid’s Tip #3:  While you are waiting to get your flu shot at the doctor’s office, try not to catch the flu by licking the glass door which is covered in flu-ridden fingerprints.  This defeats the purpose of our visit.

General Tip #4: Eat healthy!  Foods like fruits and vegetables that are rich in antioxidants can help strengthen your immune system to keep you healthier.

Specific Kid’s Tip #4: Just because the United States Congress said pizza is a vegetable, doesn’t make it true.  Fruit snacks don’t count either. Eat your damn green beans.

General Tip #5:  Get plenty of sleep! Sufficient rest also helps the body function properly, and being well rested will further aid in your body being able to fight off illnesses.

Specific Kid’s Tip #5:  Go the f@ck to sleep!

There was also a suggestion to avoid sick people.  I suppose this means I either need to start home schooling or find bubbles for my kids to wear to school.  It is probably also going to further limit my already limited social calendar.

And if you’re a parent who catches a funk that your carrier monkeys brought home, remember, you get no sick time.  So rest when you can (turn on the babysitter-aka tv), drink lots of fluids (wine is a fluid, right?), and don’t worry about the laundry, dishes, etc.  They aren’t going anywhere!

What are your secrets for staying well?  Leave me a comment!  And while you’re here, give me a quick vote on Top Mommy Blogs by clicking the banner below! Thanks for your help!
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A few years ago, when Joey was potty training, the child would not use a public toilet…ever.  He wouldn’t pee or poop at school, while out shopping, traveling, and once on the way to the beach he cried for forty minutes because he had to go so bad and was holding it until we reached my parents.  We tried stopping at a fast food restaurant, told him to pee in the grass (which he still refuses to do), so I made a purchase of a travel potty, pictured above, in case of an emergency.

Last summer, miraculously, Joey began using public toilets.  In fact, now Joey likes to check out every public toilet we encounter.  He especially loves the ones that make me really cringe like at the doctor’s office, ball park or any frequently used but rarely cleaned facility.  It’s not just that I’m freaked out by germs, but Joey now likes to get “intimate” with the seat.  Anyway, the travel potty sat in the back of our SUV unchristened until a couple days ago.

Now, I know those of you who have read my story of one of my last trips to Pittsburgh where I was stuck in traffic, had not peed in seven hours and was forced to pee in a size 6 Huggies Diaper in the center lanes of downtown Pittsburgh during rush hour/holiday traffic might think I was the one who used the travel potty for the first time…but it wasn’t me.

So late Wednesday morning, on our last day in Pittsburgh, we accompanied my mother-in-law and sister-in-law up to the cemetery to plant some flowers on my father-in-law’s graveside.  Joey had been there only once and my other two children had never been in a cemetery.  On our short drive there I told them they needed to be respectful and although it was a beautiful day, there was to be no running around.

After the initial round of questioning, most of which I didn’t answer (about bones, being dead, ghosts and worms), we arrived and the kids immediately did not listen to a word I had said.  Although their general level of noise could wake the dead, we managed to keep things to a dull roar, and after some slight reminding, they stopped walking between headstones and asking if they could climb and sit on them too. Only about ten minutes had past before Jake announced his need to poop.  My husband told him he could go in the woods, Jake was decidedly against this because he “is not a bear.”  My husband then took Jake to the rear of the car where he proceeded to christen the travel potty in the middle of a cemetery.

So much for being respectful in a cemetery.  I’m pretty sure taking a crap is worse than running around, stepping on graves or sitting on headstones.  What can you do though? He’s three and when you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go…

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Challenged

 Posted by Domestic Diva at 7:23 pm  Uncategorized
Apr 212011
 

This has been one of those weeks where I’m feeling like I’m being tested daily (and not just as a parent).   There’s been no shortage of bloggable material, but to be perfectly honest, I just haven’t felt like sitting down and writing about it.  Aside from this week being incredible busy with a ton of running around, I’m in some sort of allergy haze as there’s been an eruption of pollen in my area.  So rather than doing multiple posts, here’s the week in review:

Saturday: Went to the beach even though it was raining and took the three kids outlet shoe shopping. No further explanation needed.

Sunday: Went to a park, played mini golf, went on the beach, ate an actual bucket of boardwalk fries, and nearly slipped into a coma.

Monday: With Easter less than a week away, I decided to get the stuff for the kid’s baskets while my husband took a quick break for lunch.  This was a deliberate move because the store where I was headed was the same place Jake insulted an old lady, biker, and cashier with an unknown gender all in one trip.  For the first time, I grabbed a cart because the “Easter Box” with all the baskets, grass, and plastic eggs I had saved from last year was swallowed by my basement.  I also had other items to purchase as well, so I hurried around, filling the pharmacy’s cart.  As I approached the front of the store the cashier placed both hands over her mouth and began to giggle.  She’s worked there a while so I know who she is, and I’d say she was socially awkward to say the least (that’s not an official diagnosis, and I’d rather just not go there).  Anyway, as I start unloading she loudly exclaims, “Your hair is like KAAAA-POOOOOW!”   I smiled and agreed, after all I walk around like this every day; I know what my hair looks like.

And yet for some reason, she kept at it.  For nearly six minutes she rang up my items, and stopped after almost every item scanned to comment on my hair. “Do you know it’s out there?” and “I don’t mean to say it like that, but it’s all like WOW!” and “What’s it like in the summer?” oh, and “Can you even fit it under a hat?”  There was a man, in his early forties maybe that was behind me in line.  He just kept repeating quietly, “Oh, my God, stop talking.”  If it wasn’t for the 10% off I get with every purchase, it might not be worth it to face the slew of insults at my local Rite Aide.

Tuesday: Spent the morning on a farm with Joey’s class, and Jake was also there with his preschool group accompanied by my husband.  I’m not real into touching livestock, getting intimate with my future food, or thrilled about ecoli, but the trip was really entertaining for the kids and only a couple of hours long. We managed to get out of there with only one) goof when I told Joey to listen to a man who was speaking to the kids about various seeds (wonder why he was not paying attention)? This particular “farmer” had a pretty thick accent and Joey yelled out, “I can’t understand him, Mom! He’s speaking Spanish!” (Except he was Indian and speaking English). The gentleman shot me a look and did not seem amused.  Other than that it was a good trip.

The kids were then loaded back on the bus and taken to a local park where all 106 of them respectively (with some other park goers and a few siblings) played for several hours after enjoying their lunch at picnic tables.  For the most part it was fine, but all those kids climbing on the equipment at the same time, some hanging out the sides of the “rocket” jungle gym 10 ft in the air, was almost too much for me to take.  I would have added some rum to my coke or tried to get my hands on some Xanax or something had I know the absolute mayhem that was about to take place. Just too many kids, too large of an area, with too few adults. Aside from some minor arguing over prime playground territory, a few kids drinking out of a dog watering bowl, a couple tumbles, and a few rain drops, the kids had a blast. There were no missing children, compound fractures or catastrophic falls, so all in all a good day.

The giant Rocket Jungle Gym that nearly gave me an anxiety attack. Please picture 100+ kids ALL on this at once. It happened.

Wednesday: Just like the last few weeks, we’ve had one day that hits 80 degrees (before it drops down to 50 again). Worked in the garden all day, husband had an allergy attack after cutting the grass and his eyes almost swelled totally shut. Ran to the store, saw FIVE people I knew, spoke to all of them, came home, looked in the mirror and was surprised they didn’t give the same reaction as the lady from Rite Aide. Dirt on my face. Dirt on my shirt. Hair was like “KAAAAA-POOOOW!”

Thursday: Spring break started a day early for Joey. He woke up with red, swollen eyes and a bad headache.  I spent the day trying to rid our house of all the pollen I let in yesterday when I had every window open.  Dusted and cleaned furniture, windows, walls, floors. Dust rag was a yellowish green from pollen and I sneezed most of the day. Considering wearing Depends Adult Diapers while Cecilia, the former sweet and innocent baby turned curious and destructive toddler, is awake. Took two bathroom breaks and paid for my brief moment behind a closed door.  Trip one into the bathroom she spilled both of her brother’s juice cups on the kitchen table and the kitchen floor. She then proceeded to empty a container of baby wipes in order to spread clean the mess up.  Two cups of coffee and a couple hours later, I slipped in the bathroom unnoticed…or so I thought. I heard a gentle scratching sound at the door and called out “Who’s there!” to which Cecilia squealed in delight and ran down the hall. Upon leaving the bathroom I discovered the scratching was not a sound made by her hands but rather from a red crayon that was all over the bathroom door, front door and down the hallway.

As I mentioned today is the official start of Spring Break. Pray for me, people. Pray for me.

Hope you’re all having a good week! Leave me a comment while you’re here and don’t forget to vote for me on Top Mommy Blogs!

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The End

 Posted by Domestic Diva at 10:41 am  Uncategorized
Mar 282011
 

There is almost a rhythm to the pounding in my head.  The constant thumping in sync with the beat of my heart might almost lull me to sleep if it wasn’t accompanied by pain.

My face hurts. Yeah, yeah and it’s killing you, right?  Seriously. My face hurts. My sinuses are under attack, and there is pain and pressure in my forehead, eyes and cheeks.

My nose is congested, and at the best of times I can breathe through one of my nostrils.  There is sneezing, blowing and now redness despite the lotion covered tissues.

The post nasal drip irritates my already sore throat and is causing a significant drop in appetite.  It is also causing a persistent, dry cough.

Sleep eludes me. Just as I begin dozing off a coughing fit comes or I gag from the all of the nasal congestion.

So what’s the diagnosis?  A drug resistant flu strain?  Pneumonia? Whooping Cough?  Tuberculosis?

No. Far worse. I’m not sure how this happened and I’m left wondering why this happened to me. Something is amiss in the universe, you see, I think I’ve caught a “man cold.”

By all accounts, this is just an ordinary cold. There was a slight fever on the first day, but four days later my temperature is normal. So why do I feel like this is the end? Why do I just want to curl up under a blanket and die? Why do I feel like I want to cry and moan and have someone take care of me? All signs point to a man cold. I just don’t know how this happened.

Unfortunately, since women are not known to contract “man colds,” I got up and showered. Still feeling terrible I dressed myself and my kids, fed them breakfast, made lunch, dropped Joey off at school, came home and did the dishes and a load of laundry. Maybe one day, I’ll be able to have a “man cold” but until then I’ll have to suffer through a “Mom cold” which comes with no sympathy, no one doing stuff for you, and no time off.

Shit.

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Butt Fingers

 Posted by Domestic Diva at 10:46 am  Uncategorized
Mar 152011
 

I didn’t just wake up one morning a total germ freak.  I’m a product of my environment.  I developed my chronic hand washing/sanitizing as a result of seeing some really disgusting and foul things over the years.  Now that I’m a Mom, and my kids are still young, I’m battling to keep them healthy in a dirty, disgusting world.

Just so you understand, and don’t judge me too harshly, here are some of the reasons I am why I am:

If you’re new, you may have missed the incident last year where I was trapped in a car and forced to pee in a Huggies Size 6 diaper (you can read that one here).  Now, had I just used a public rest stop bathroom, I wouldn’t have had this problem.  My issues with public toilets had been building for quite some time, but one incident that occurred when I was twenty really sticks out and was probably one of the biggest contributors to my public toilet phobia.

I went on Spring Break with three of my roommates to Cancun, Mexico.  On the next to last day of the trip, I was so drunk and dehydrated that I drank melted ice water from a beer cooler at a bar.  Genius right?  The last day of our trip (and for another three weeks after) Montezuma had his revenge.  Long story short, our plane was delayed going home and the airport was under renovations.  When I finally located an open bathroom, there were only two stalls.  The first door slowly creaked open to reveal a clogged poo and pee filled bowl that made me gag instantly.  I stumbled backwards and felt a shift in my own bowels that was the only thing propelling me forward to the next stall.  I bargained with God, swearing never to drink again of this next toilet was workable, and cautiously approached the door.  After the door opened far enough for me to see the only other available toilet, it revealed a horror my brain could have never comprehended before.  The seat…the seat….I’m sorry this is hard for me even now….the seat was COVERED in pubic hair.  And just so we’re clear, I mean the entire seat was covered in HUNDREDS of short, dark and curlies.

I remember standing there just totally sick, hungover, and tired staring at the seat for a minute. Then I began to cry.  My mind couldn’t comprehend what could have taken place in that stall.  It was one of the worst things I had ever seen, and if you’re a believer in post traumatic stress, I’m telling you I had it after that.  I’ve never looked at a public toilet the same way again.  So what did I do?  I cried a while and I stood in the bathroom holding my stomach and wishing I was back in the States. A friend said she’d stand guard and I could go in the sink, and then a stranger came in with the same travel related illness.  This girl was either crazy or a super hero, but either way she braved the pubes and the crabs I was sure were there too, and wiped the seat down.  After she cleaned and used the toilet, I layered about 7″ of toilet paper on the seat but still hovered, praying my ass wouldn’t catch anything from being within 3 feet of that previously furry seat.

That was just one incident in a foreign country’s airport. Surely, my experiences here would be better?  Or not.  I worked for years in a corporate setting, with various levels of management, and I can’t even begin to count how many times while using the bathroom at work, that I would hear a toilet flush and then the door open and close. These people just wipe, flush and walk right out of the bathroom without washing their hands.  These nasty people, many times slipped in and out without revealing their identity.  Who were they? Who knows…was it the person using the copy machine or fax ahead of me? Maybe.  Were their shitty hands punching the same buttons I would be using?  Were they hitting the elevator buttons and then heading to the cafeteria?  Were they handling the cups and sticking their poop-ridden hands in the ice (don’t even get me started why someone’s bare hand need be in the ice machine)? Perhaps.  Were they someone in a meeting who would shake my hand? Could be.  So when coworkers would tease and joke with me about my hand sanitizers and Clorox wipes, I would always smile and laugh too, but who knows, maybe they were the ones not washing and then carrying on with their day happily spreading shit (literally) around.

Bad news for some folks was if I caught them trying to leave without washing, I would say something.  Not embarrassing for me; they’re the nasty ones. Anyway, my point is, I’m like this because of the things I’ve seen time and time again.  I’m like this because every time I see something I thought was the worst possible thing I could see (like the pube toilet), someone does something worse.

Without further delay, I give you the worst possible thing I could see someone do in public. I’m pretty sure I would go postal on this lady if I saw this.  (If you watch Tosh.0, you probably saw this on last week’s episode. If you don’t watch Tosh, and you are easily grossed out, don’t watch this nasty ass-digging lady who could live in your town, pump from the same gas pumps, shop (and handle) the same produce, share the same library books, etc, etc, etc).

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Wheat free me

 Posted by Domestic Diva at 11:33 am  Uncategorized
Mar 072011
 

In case you’re new, I’m allergic to wheat.  It’s one of the many things that is wrong with me.  I didn’t always have a food allergy, and here’s the short version about how it happened (and if you already know the back story or you don’t care, skip to the 3rd paragraph):  About nine years ago I started getting sick.  It started one October and I literally threw up almost every day until the following January.  The only reason I didn’t puke seven days a week was because there were some days I was too sick to eat any food. I had to go to the hospital more times than I’d care to recall so I could be re-hydrated and given IV medications to stop the puke-a-thon.  They’d send me home, tell me to stick to a bland diet and then the whole cycle would start over again once I ate a piece of bread, crackers, pretzels, or anything else made with wheat/flour.  So after three months, an upper GI, CT scan, and a barrage of blood work and other rather unpleasant exams, no one ever mentioned the possibility that I could have developed a food allergy at age 23. Well, no one except my chiropractor, who was a bit alternative even for a chiropractor, and a lady my Mom worked with who had a similar experience.

So I cut all wheat products out of my diet and I stopped getting sick. It was like a God damn miracle.  My initial intent was to slowly introduce wheat back into my diet and see what happened.  I never made it that far though because I ended up eating food containing wheat by accident. I learned the hard way quite a few times about how foods are labeled such as “modified food starch” could contain wheat, and one of the worst was eating food that was labeled “gluten/wheat free” BUT also label as “made in a facility that processes wheat.” Basically that means that there could be cross contamination and as long as that’s on the label, it’s an eat at your own risk situation.  Wheat is also in a number of foods you might not expect, or realize, like some soy sauces, seasonings, and let’s not even talk about beer/alcohol (it just depresses me).  My point here is that I’ve basically become a label freak and read and analyze everything before I eat it.  If I’m going to a restaurant that is a larger chain I go to their website, read about ingredients, and have even emailed with questions.  If I was going to eat wheat and get sick on purpose I’d eat a whole pizza, drink a ton of beer, or enjoy a Cappriotti’s Italian sub with extra pickles.

So anyway, I’ve had two recent wheat accidents.  One was at a Wendy’s where I ate some French Fries, which at some point used to be listed as gluten free on their website, but now either the fries themselves have changed or now they are just cooked in the same oil as other wheaty items like chicken nuggets. Either way, I love french fries, and Wendy’s fries were always my favorite, but now I can’t eat them. The last time I ate them I was super, super sick.  Did I also mention that aside from puking, getting the cha-cha’s along with swelling in (ALL) my joints?  So it’s real easy for me to determine when I have a stomach bug/food poisoning versus wheat poisoning.

Even though I already knew the answer, I called Wendy’s customer service to confirm their fries were now another item I could not eat.  I told the customer service rep my story, and instead of saying, “sorry, the new fries do contain wheat and we’re so sorry you were sick for three days after eating them” she says, “Yep. The fries do have wheat.  The good news is you can still eat our salads without the croutons.”  That’s the good news? Seriously?  I don’t know about any of you, but there is nothing appealing about eating a Wendy’s salad.  If I wanted to eat something sure to give me diarrhea like their nasty lettuce, I’d just eat the fucking french fries.  That was pretty much my response to her too.

Over the weekend I opened a letter from the Perdue company and found an enclosed check for $15.00.  They sent this in response to an inquiry I made into their Perfect Portion individually wrapped chicken breasts with roasted garlic seasoning.  The package said “gluten free” but the time I spent in the bathroom, and the very unpleasant things that happened in there (along with the joint pain), was a pretty big indication to me it was not gluten free as advertised.  They sent me a very generic response to my initial inquiry about the cleanliness of their sites, how they feed, monitor and process the chickens which didn’t answer my question which was “are there other items that you process in your plant that contain wheat?”  They actually called and left me a voicemail saying there was no chance of contamination because the plant was wiped clean at night and the gluten free products are always made first.  I took that as there are wheat products in the plant, and as such there IS a chance of contamination. As far as the $15 check they sent, are they paying me back for the product or for the pain and suffering…or perhaps for the toilet paper I had to use?  At least they didn’t suggest I eat a salad.

In other news, I’m losing weight still without the need to exercise.  It’s probably in part to my occasional accidental wheat-purging and the fact that I’m reduced to eating foods like salad (thanks Wendy for the suggestion).  Also because I haven’t had french fries in months which may be the cause of my bitchiness (not the cold weather as I initially thought).  Sorry for the whining, I let myself indulge in a pity party every once in a while about my allergy.  I know it could be worse, but to someone who loves food as much as I do, and someone who would love the simplicity of eating a fucking sandwich, it’s a bummer.

Found this cartoon at http://jacattack.wordpress.com/2010/07/14/you-no-eat-a-no-wheat-a/)

Oh, and just so you all don’t experience anything close to what I go through when I eat wheat, please don’t miss the Skippy Peanut Butter recall. It sounds shitty. Happy Monday!

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Big Ones

 Posted by Domestic Diva at 11:42 am  Uncategorized
Feb 162011
 

I hate when people point out that I have big ones.  Obviously, I’m aware; they are on my body after all.

Although,  I cannot blame my kids for this body condition; unlike many other things that are going wrong with my body such as my Tom Selleck Mustache, gray hair and fine lines/wrinkles, my big ones have been… well, big, for quite some time. I can even recall people speaking, often in hushed voices, about my big ones since I was in my early teens.

At this point, I can’t even tell you their exact size.  To be honest, I’m not sure I want to know. My big ones cause certain people to stare, look longer than I feel is really necessary, and have been the centerpiece of some uncomfortable situations.  On one occasion, someone called an “associate” over to take a look. How awkward!  Are my big ones that noteworthy? Even after I had my children, my big ones have been referred to as:

  • Impressive
  • Well above average
  • Massive
  • Jumbo
  • Colossal
  • Plump
  • Much more voluminous than expected

There really isn’t anything I can do about it now.  They look large whether I’m wearing a turtleneck or a V-Cut.  My big ones appear massive in any kind of light.  Since I can’t attribute this to pregnancy/hormones/nursing, I guess it could have a genetic link.  At this point, even after diet and exercise, they remain over-sized, and I suppose the only way to reduce their girth would be through surgery.

“Here we go again,” I thought.  Today, upon meeting a doctor for the first time, he even took an extra long look.  “I know this may feel a bit awkward, but hold still just a moment longer,” he said as he studied my big ones. My face felt flushed and I felt more than just a little awkward as this so called ‘doctor’ examined my big ones oh so thoroughly. I would have assumed that since he was a doctor (and a man of his age), he would have seen his fair share of big ones, and wouldn’t need to hold such a lingering glance at mine.  Finally, his exam concluded but not before he gently rubbed all over them.  This motion actually made me feel nauseous for a moment.

“I should ask to see this guys diploma,” I thought. “Was such a comprehensive rub-down of my big ones really that necessary?  This guy probably could have made a diagnosis just by looking at me. He probably gets some sick pleasure from getting all up on someone’s big ones like that,” I silently contemplated.  “This guy’s first name could be ‘Doctor’ for all I know.  I wonder where he went to medical school…” but then my inner dialogue was cut short.

“There,” he said pulling his hands away, “you’re all finished.”

“Great,” I said looking at the ‘Doctor’ suspiciously.

“We’ll get the results of your throat culture in a few minutes.  Has anyone ever told you that you should have had your tonsils out a long time ago?” he questioned. “They are some of the biggest ones I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s been mentioned once or twice,” I casually replied.

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Feb 132011
 

I’m not a doctor by medical standards…and I suppose technically, I’m not a doctor by anyone’s standards, however, I feel like I have a basic understanding of the human body.  As an out-of-the-closet germaphobe, you might assume I’m always at the doctor’s office whenever I, or one of my offspring, have a sniffle.  That couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, I hate the doctor’s office, medical aide unit, and hospital.  Going to one of these places is like walking into the lion’s den. Tons of sick people congregating in one place, leaving germs all over, is a place I try to avoid.  Anyway, my point here is that I’m not one to rush to a doctor’s office just for your standard cold.

So after my son Jake, who is three, had a mild cold for 10 days and developed a fever, I called for an appointment.  I was slightly annoyed Tuesday that calling at 10:30am was too late for an appointment that day, so I took Jake in Wednesday.  The doctor did a throat culture (which was negative), checked his ears (which were clear), and listened for a long time to his chest and back.  Having a thick nasty cough, fever, chills, vomiting, and more thick green snot I than ever thought possible for a human child of his size, the doctor told me he needed a chest Xray.  Poor, Jake.  I admit, he was really sick and as much as I didn’t want him to have another Xray (the kid had one in December when he had walking pneumonia), I wanted to rule out anything serious.  Thankfully, it was clear, but I was surprised that the nurse who called with the report Wednesday afternoon said the doctor thought it was viral.  I think the initial 10 days of illness were, but the last three days of fever seemed like a secondary infection.  I argued that he was getting worse with higher temperatures coming closer together and that this was only the third sick visit this kid had ever had.  Furthermore, he’s only been on an antibiotic twice.  What about a sinus infection?  Long story short, no dice.  “Call back if he gets worse or has a fever Friday.”

So Wednesday night was bad, Thursday was worse, and Friday morning I called again.  They took a message and I got a call back from another nurse saying the doctor would see him again BUT he still thinks it’s viral.  WTF?  Then, the nurse starts with the slow talking.  I hate slow talking.  “Now, I understand that you are concerned about Jake, but a virus can cause a fever, “  The nurse condescendingly advised me.  She continued, “you can bring him back in, but when a child has a viral illness an antibiotic won’t help.”

“Duhhhhh! Doooooy!!! Errrrr!!!”  I began making these ‘idiot’ noises in my head.  Was this nurses fucking kidding me?  If she was saying this to my face I would have kicked her in the vagina.  I slow talk to my little kids all the time, “Now, Jake. Please don’t stand on the toilet and jump in the tub when I go get your towel. You could break your leg.” OR “Joey, if we let wild, dirty animals in the house it could cause a huge mess, dear.Plus Mommy doesn’t want to have to kill a dog.“  I slow talk to my kids because they may act like idiots, but they are just kids (and usually don’t know any better). Plus it helps me not scream and/or curse at them. Here’s an example of slow talking to one of my kids (true story) : Slow talking example. In general, slow talking, at least in my experience, is meant to be condescending. It really chaps my ass when someone talks to me like this.

I am not arguing that I’m a medical professional, but based on my own experience, research, and previous experience with my kids (who have been prescribed antibiotics a total of 6 times between the three of them) I didn’t see the harm in trying something for this potential bacterial infection.  So I slow talked back. “I do know that a virus can cause a fever.  I have three kids.  Two of them spent time in daycare, have gone through preschool, and my oldest is now in Kindergarten.  We have had our share of viruses.  Many of those viruses have caused fevers.  I also know that bacteria can cause infections too. Bacteria can also cause fevers. Antibiotics can kill bacteria and make you feel aaaallllllll better.”

She wasn’t amused.  I was not amused either.  Long story short, I told the office I would take him to an Urgent Care facility that I was confident would give him an antibiotic and not waste the time and another co-pay on a diagnosis they were not willing to change.  I planned on taking Jake Saturday morning when his fever broke.  He still sounds like a TB patient, but at least the fever is gone.  And now, because this is what happens with a house full of children, Cecilia has a fever and thick nasty cough after 11 days of mild cold symptoms.

So now, because my doctor wouldn’t give me the blood of a unicorn to cure my son…. oh wait, I wasn’t asking for something crazy like the blood of a unicorn, I was just looking for a simple antibiotic, so now I’m going to look for a new pediatrician. Hopefully, Cecilia’s fever and cough will be better by tomorrow or she’ll be visiting Urgent Care too.  Sounds like the way one of my Mondays would go…

The blood of a unicorn has magical healing powers. It seems more likely I'd be able to get this from my pediatrician than an antibiotic.

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I have a few things I’d love to post, but my brain is not functioning properly due to sleep deprivation. Hopefully I’ll be able to share some of them soon.  Right now I’ve got 2.5 sick kids and I’m still fighting a funk myself, so I’ll do a quick list of things that are only okay to say and do since I’m a Mom. Just some basic observations if you will.   In other situations, if you saw or heard someone saying/doing these things, without small children,  it might be a bit socially awkward (to say the least):

1. Saying, “Please get your finger out of his/her nose!”

2. Saying, “Please get your finger out of my nose!”

3. Catching someone’s vomit in your hands.

4.  Sniffing someone’s ass to see if they pooped

5.  Trying to explain to a person that burping and farting loudly in public isn’t okay just because you say “excuse me” afterward

6.  Instructing someone to “Call me when you’re done pooping, so I can help you wipe.”

7.  Advising someone “stop walking around holding your crotch and just go to the bathroom already!”

8.  Questioning “What are you eating now?” and then instructing “spit it in my hand now!” then sticking your fingers in someone’s mouth to remove said foreign object.

9.  Asking someone if they feel okay and what “kind” of poop they just had.

10. Having to repeat any basic question 58 times in order to get a response.

Reading over this there’s a lot of poop. Even though I think it comes with the territory,  I’ll generally apologize. I think it’s cause my week has literally been shitty too.  I’m still bitter about picking up that “raisin.”  Either way, you can’t get away with saying or doing this list with adults….well, most adults.

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Just like most of the country, we had some awful weather lately with Tuesday as an “ice” day and no school.  Also, just like seemingly everyone else, we’re all sick too with some sort of respiratory funk.  Although it’s snotty and miserable around here, I feel fortunate there have been no fevers/ear infections/rashes/puking/pneumonia as we’ve had in recent months.  Does it make the kids any less miserable? Nope.

It’s not their fault either, as much as they’ve been couped up, and now sick to boot, there’s been a bit more bickering between siblings..at least the boys.  Joey, who is five and a half, is big for his age.  Jake, age three and a half, is an average size for his age.  Joey weighs a full 25lbs more than Jake and is a good foot taller (at least).  Jake, though smaller, has learned quickly he cannot overtake his brother by force.  This means Jake needs to be a bit more calculating in his attacks.

For example, Joey gets mad and might push Jake or hold him on the ground.  Jake gets mad at Joey and he colors with crayon all over Joey’s wall.  Joey then freaks out and Jake,although is then punished, gloats and obviously feels triumphant with his mental warfare.  Jake is a clever little guy, and you can see him thinking things through and calculating his next move.  In fact, even when the boys pull a stunt together, I often wonder who the mastermind is…

Yesterday, although he hasn’t had a fever, I kept Joey home from school because of a persistent cough.  I pumped him full of fluids, vitamins and soothing foods and he still coughed, but also ran around all day playing.  He obviously sounded much worse than he was actually feeling.  Jake,who caught the funk from Joey over the weekend, was feeling sick and stayed home too.  Between being stuck indoors and feeling sick, they were going at it all day.  I stopped counting how many times I heard, “Mooooooooom! <insert Joey or Jake’s name here> is bugging me!” or “Tell him to leave me alone” or “Tell him to stop <looking, breathing, sitting> <in,on,near> me!!!”

This morning I heard Joey coughing and shut my alarm off. Truth be told, I feel awful too and wanted to call in sick myself.  If I knew how to pull that off, I’d be in bed right now.  Anyway, I called Joey out sick and after an hour of coughing he stopped.  What didn’t stop was the running around and fighting with Jake.  So after three hours of Joey not coughing and acting normal I took him to school for a half day.  His classroom, when I dropped him off, sounded like synchronized coughing, so in retrospect, I probably should have taken him yesterday.

Apparently, while I was gone, Jake began plotting revenge for Joey’s particularly unrelenting tattling and brutishness the last few days.  After I was home only twenty minutes or so from dropping Joey off my husband asked me to come and look at what Jake had done in the basement.  That is rarely a good thing.

So here’s a quick back story on the photo below.  Joey is obsessed with the Wii.  You saw the post where he ran and ran on the fitness running game, and he’s created over 100 Mii’s (the avatars for the Wii games).  I’ve had to limit the amount of time he spends playing Wii otherwise I am certain he’d do it morning, noon and night.  So Jake went in and hit him where it hurts…he took Joey’s favorite Mii and altered him.  What’s disturbing is Jake made Joey’s Wii look like Hitler….or at least I think so.

What now, big brother???

I guess that’s what Joey gets for being such an azul to his brother this morning.

I thought it was funny, but did make him change it back…what do you think? Leave me a comment!

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