No!

I was cleaning out the diaper genie and Demon ran by with a stinky diaper. So I told him we had to change it.

He says, "no."

I take the trash bag in his room and lay the towel on his bed (that's how we do his diapers) and tell him he needs to come lie on Mr Boat. (The towel has a boat on it)

He says, "no."

10 minutes into this argument Bug starts wailing. I tell him he has to get in his room and lie down so we can change his diaper because I have to feed Bug.

He says, "no."

I tell him if he makes me get up and come PUT him in his room he's staying in there by himself while I feed Bug.

He says, "no,"

I tell him he has until the count of 3 before I get up and then he's sitting in his room by himself.

He says, "no."

"1"
"No"
"2"
"No"
"3"
"No"

So I get up, pick his stinky butt up and put him in his room and go get Bug. He cries, "Mama! Mama."

I said, "are you ready to have your diaper changed?"

He says, "no"

So i feed Bug, and I wrestle Bug and I put Bug down for a nap. I have to walk by his room to do this. I ask if he's ready to have his diaper changed.

He says, "no. Lie down. Sleeping."

So the stubborn booger has decided he's going to BED at 4pm instead of letting me change his diaper that's full of poop.

He stayed in his room, from all appearances, happily playing, for an hour and a half until my husband got home from work. Then he let my husband change him. 

Sometimes I feel like I live in a deranged Dr. Seuss book. 

“You cannot change my poop today

You cannot clean my butt, no way!

I will not let you in a house

I will not let you for a mouse

I do not like clean diapers mom

I do not want to put one on.”

Oh look!

You ever have those days? You know the ones. The, "oh, hey, look, fossilized cheese! Awesome" days.  Come on now, you know you do.

RSV: Take Two

Obviously I haven’t had any time to update my blog in a very long time. At the moment, I have about six million things I should be doing, and at least one I’d like to be doing, but I find I’m driven to write instead. 

I pointed a friend at my RSV post the other day, and in the process, reread it.  I realized it ended prematurely.  My daughter did end up in the hospital, which is why I stopped posting to the blog.  Once something is stopped, it seems hard to pick up again. 

My last blog post was on a Thursday. The follow Sunday morning I slept in. My husband got up with the kids so I could catch up on some sleep. My daughter had gone to bed with a little cough, not promising with RSV in the house.  All morning long, while lying in bed, I kept be awoken by the sound of her coughing. Finally, at 10am, I thought, “I have to get up and take her to the ER.”  I thought my husband was going to frown at me and tell me I was overreacting. Not that he’s prone to that sort of thing, but I thought it was possible that I was overreacting. I got up, and walked into the living room, which is our children’s play area.  He looked at me and said, “you need to call the doctor for Bug.”  At this, my heart sank. I was hoping, having been mostly asleep, I was maybe exaggerating in my mind (understandably based on the previous week) how bad she really was.  Turns out, she wasn’t eating. 

So, I threw some clothes on, packed a diaper bag, expecting for her to be gone at least most of the day, and off to the ER we went. Again. 

This time, when they ran the RSV test it came back positive. She still really wasn’t eating. At the time she was four months old, and sleeping through the night. By my calculations that meant she’d eaten about six ounces since 9pm the night before. (We got to the ER at 11am)  The ER doctor, the same one who had treated Demon, and remembered us, decided to try a bottle of just Pedialyte. She said it was thinner and easier to get out of the bottle. The problem Bug was having was not that she didn’t WANT to eat, like Demon hadn’t, but that every time she tried to eat she’d start coughing so badly she couldn’t.  After a few attempts  she’d give up. Which is exactly what you don’t want a four month old baby to do. At that age they are still so little that they really shouldn’t go very long without eating. It lowers their blood super and they just have less and less energy. 

She did eat four ounces of Pedialyte, but it took her an entire hour, which was very unlike her. She had always been a good eater, and could suck down four ounces in fifteen minutes on a normal day. The doctor had a breathing specialist come in and give her a nebulizer treatment.  He was beyond impressed. She fell asleep about two minutes in.  He said he’s never seen a baby do that before, usually they scream the whole time.  I told him she was a very calm baby. I wondered though if it was that the treatment helped so much she could breath easier, or if she was just too exhausted from coughing and not eating to stay awake. 

The doctor decided, since she was still having so much trouble eating, they should give her IV fluids, and admit her overnight. It took us four hours to get a room. She said there were three babies in front of us, all being admitted with RSV. 

While we were waiting, they came down to start and IV on her. She cried, but otherwise was pretty good. This time I pointedly didn’t look at what they were doing, and did fine. She was a total trooper. 

Four hours after being told she was being admitted, we got a room. Our floor nurse came in to introduce herself and look Bug over. There is something disconcerting when someone has to put on hazard gear to touch your kid. Gown, booties, hat, mask. Really?  It makes sense. They have an entire floor of people, and they don’t want to spread a viral infection. It Doesn’t make it any easier to watch no one touching your kid without several layers in between them and her. 

So, it’s about 7/8pm now, and we’re facing a problem. My husband missed so many days of work in the previous two weeks, due to his illness, and our son’s many ER trips, that he can’t take off any more work. He needs the job, we need the money, but, more importantly at the moment, we need the health insurance!  After calling every one I can think of who may be able to watch Demon overnight, I’m at a loss and in tears. I don’t want to leave this tiny four month old in the hospital alone. My cousin did offer to take Demon overnight, and take him to daycare with her son in the morning. I was terrifies though that he’s infect the whole daycare.  The nurse came in again to talk about something. I told her I may not be able to stay overnight. She told me I couldn’t leave.  

I certainly didn’t want to leave my sick child in the hospital alone overnight. That was one of the last things I wanted to do. i also couldn’t leave my two year old alone all day, and I didn’t have anywhere to take him, and my husband couldn’t lose his job, or we couldn’t afford to have sick children in the hospital. The nurse told me they could check on her, every several hours, but they couldn’t really keep an eye on her, and, I know, they wouldn’t feed her.  So, I called my mom, who was very sick with our virus, and begged her to watch my two year old at 5am the next morning. She agreed. 

I got to spend the night in the hospital with my sick baby. I was relieved, and stressed out. I had spent many night in the hospital when my son was four weeks old. No sleeping happens there. Not for the parents. Plus, I didn’t have anything for the next morning, and I couldn’t leave to go pick anything up. One day I am going to learn to pack several changes of clothing every time I go to the ER, just in case. 

Mr Wampus came by that evening with Demon and dropped off some clothes. My darling boy was happy to see me,  but not very happy to be in a hospital. (The last time it hadn’t gone to well for him, and that kid has a memory like a steel trap)  They brought me some sweats to sleep in, and other small things, you know, like a toothbrush. They also brought me dinner, which was nice, even if it did come from a drive through window. 

The visited a little and then left. Demon cried all the way to the car. 

After a few hours (at this point I don’t even know, eight or ten hours) of IV antibiotics Bug started eating again. I swaddled her to she wouldn’t bump her IV, and realized that at some point in the last three months she had grown too big to be swaddled in the hospital blankets. We had a rather uneventful night. She slept some, I slept none. She ate a lot. We snuggled quite a bit. I was grateful that my phone had a kindle app on it and so I could read my book while she slept instead of staring at the wall. 

Monday morning I went downstairs and got myself coffee and muffins to take back upstairs with me.  A very nice woman from the Ronald McDonald house charities came by and brought Bug a mobile. It was a plastic version, with a big panda on the front. Bug spent most of the day smiling and cooing at the panda. Up until then she’s only cooed at mom and dad. 

Monday night, around seven of eight, they discharged her. It was uneventful, he case was very mild. (which I attribute to her vaccine)  Shortly before they discharged her she developed pink eye. Not surprising since everyone else in the house had already had it.  They gave us medicine for that, and sent us home. 

Bug continued to cough all week, but it didn’t seem to be getting worse, and it didn’t interfere with her eating. We did take her in for a recheck, and they said she looked good. 

The following Thursday night her pink eye came back. She had gross gooey drainage, and they were very red. I gave her the eyedrops again, but this time they didn’t seem to work. Her eye didn’t get worse on Friday, but it didn’t get any better either. It didn’t seem to bother her much.  Saturday morning I thought it was getting better, then that afternoon, it suddenly got much worse very quickly. I called the pediatrician’s after hours number, again. The on call doctor yelled at me for not brining her into the office that morning while they were open. He told me if the medicine wasn’t working she could have a secondary eye infection. He told me I had to take her to an Urgent Care, right now, and I had to take her to one that was good with small children. I was brave enough to ask which Urgent care he suggested for small children. 

Shortly after getting off the phone, Bug, Demon, Mr Wampus, and I packed into the car and headed out for the Urgent Care, which, luckily, wasn’t too far away.  They were also not busy, which was a big plus.

They saw her pretty quickly, and she was diagnosed with severe conjunctivitis, a massive ear infection (even though she had run no fever) and pneumonia. Really?  They gave us drops, and antibiotics, we had them filled on the way home. She was pretty happy for someone so sick. Four or Five days into the antibiotics they didn’t seem to be working. I took her into the pediatrician's office, Demon in tow. Her right ear was still infected, and her left ear was now massively infected. 

Remember the horrible, awful, painful, shot we had to do for Demon that took two nurses to administer simultaneously because it is so painful? Well, it was Bug’s turn.  Poor Demon. Those two nurses walked into the room and both snapped on their gloves and he had an instant panic attack. He started screaming and clawing at the examine room door. Even though I tried to reassure him, it wasn’t for him, he managed to pop the door open and went fleeing down the hall screaming. One of the nurses he ran by said that she would watch him. I could hear, as the door was closing, “Do you like stickers?” and I knew that he was in good hands. Bug weathered her shots well. There were tears, but they cleared up quickly. Demon was returned and we went home again. 

Bug improved, Demon was better. Eventually my husband and I improved too, as did my mother and grandfather who we’d made sick. My grandfather spent some time in the hospital for pneumonia, and I felt awful. He weather the storm as well, and was only there a day or two before he got to go home. 

What is in a name?

The origin of my children’s nicknames. 

My children have interesting nicknames.  They evolved organically. Which is to say, they kind of came about on their own. I always expect someone to ask me why I call my oldest “Demon,” or tell me I might give him a complex. Yes, I do actually call him that in real life, and yes, when the mood strikes him, he does answer to it. I find this both completely entertaining, and slightly disturbing. Maybe the reason no one has ever asked me is that they’ve met my son.  What did surprise me was that someone asked about my daughter’s nickname.  One of my cousins said, “so her facebook name is ‘Bug’?” *raised eyebrow* It struck me as funny. Not that she was asking, but that no one has about my son’s. In fact, I’ve had multiple people ask about “Bug.” While no one has ever asked about “Demon.”

We’ll start with Demon. 

His is slightly more complicated. There is a series of romance novels called, “Cynister Novels” written by Stephanie Laurens. They aren’t the best written books ever, but they’re pretty good. They’re cute and entertaining. The series follows a bunch of male cousins who have all been given nicknames suck as, “Demon, Devil, Lucifer,” you get the idea. I suppose this is what made it an ok idea in my head. It isn’t why I call him that though. 

My son was an early teether. He started teething at 3 months old. He had all his teeth by 1 year. He started working on 2 year molars at 15 months. He’s a horrible teether. It’s incredibly painful for him and seems to take forever. I decided somewhere around the time that he was 6 months old that there was a very fine line between teething and demonic possession. If you’ve never seen the similarities I envy you. There were many jokes about me waiting for his head to spin around, or calling a priest. (I seriously considered that a few times because it got so bad. I didn’t think the priest would take me seriously though.) 

My son is also known to get into a mood. When he’s tired, or hungry, or doesn’t feel well he’s quite a handful. On these days you can always tell something is wrong because he suddenly insists on getting into everything he knows he’s not supposed to, and usually leaves alone. He doesn’t listen to instructions, and has meltdowns at any provocation. My neighbor, who my son loves to play with daily when the weather permits, is fond of saying, “Ohhh, you can see the devil in him,” on these occasions. She does it in such a sinister way that it’s pretty funny. I think this, more then anything, is what has made the name stick. 

As he’s gotten older he has shown a brilliance marked with much curiosity and mischief.  These days it’s an affectionate nod toward those traits. He can be adorably devilish, more so then other 2 year olds. In fact he has shown a particular talent for getting into trouble. Some day I will write a blog post called, “things my son did quietly in his room, that weren’t napping,” or “things Demon has put in his hair.” (That hair one would be pretty long) 

Just so we’re always clear. I’m not calling my son A demon, or suggesting he is actually demonic, or anywhere close. It is just an affectionate nickname (one of many) that has stuck as he’s entered the “terrible twos.”

Bug’s name is not nearly as interesting. 

When you tightly swaddle a baby, they end up looking like a little inch worm, or glow bug. Especially one who isn’t sure they want to be swaddled.  Bug will inch along you, or the couch, or bed, when she’s been swaddled, but isn’t sure she’s ready for bed. We found ourselves commenting on how she was, “small as a bug” or “snuggly as a little bug.” This, coupled with the fact that her bedding is ladybugs, and so I’ve done her room in a “bug” theme (ladybugs, butterflies, dragonflies) has led to her affectionately being named “Bug.”  I’m sure as she gets bigger she will grow out of it. I hope she never thinks we likened her to a beetle, or something creepy.  I think of her more as my tiny inchworm, soon to be my butterfly (yes, I know caterpillar/butterfly, inchworm/moth, but inchworm to butterfly will fit her better.) I’m also fond of calling her my little bug-a-boo, or snug-a-bug. And again, yes, we actually call her Bug. Some day, if she’s feeling inclined, she may even answer to it. 

RSV

One nasty virus.

I remember someone telling me, when I brought Demon home from the NICU, that RSV could present in older children as “just a runny nose.” I have to tell you, that’s something I simply can’t believe after this week.

Friday morning my 2yr old little Demon woke up with a cough, and it looked like someone had turned a facet on in his nose. By noon it was noticeably worse, and he couldn’t nap because of  coughing. I took him in to the doctor’s Friday afternoon. We ended up taking Bug with us as well, only because I couldn’t find a sitter. It turned out to be good though, she started coughing on the way there. 

They told me to keep an eye on it, because it could be RSV, but they were hoping it was just a cold. 

Friday night I tried to give Demon a nebulizer treatment. He’s had “asthma episodes” before with bad colds. He freaked out so bad he choked the threw up. He coughed so bad Friday night he was up most of the night. He was sick all Saturday. Saturday night I waited for him to go to sleep and then tried a “blow by” treatment. (That’s where you basically point it at their face, from a distance) He woke up 10mins in and flipped. I calmed him down and he went back to sleep. He was waking up every 30mins crying and whimpering, coughing himself awake. I was laying in his room with him, quieting him back to sleep. By 10pm the coughing had gotten so bad I called the exchange for our pediatrician. The on call doctor told me to take both kids into the ER because it sounded like RSV. 

At the ER Saturday night/Sunday morning they swabbed both kids for RSV. Demon’s came back positive, and Bug’s was negative. The doctor told us it usually gets worse for 4-5 days then better for 4-5 days. They said his lungs sounded fine, and Bug had an upper respiratory infection, but was doing really well, and had no RSV, yet. I got to bed at around 8am Sunday morning. 

Monday morning Demon was a mess. He had a fever, he wouldn’t take any medicine, he wouldn’t eat or drink anything, and he was just a little snuggly ball of snot and whining. I tried to hold him down and squirt the tylenol down his throat. He flipped out, choked, and threw it all up.  I called and got him an appointment at the pediatricians at 1pm. By 1pm his fever was at 102.5, he still wouldn’t eat or drink anything, he wouldn’t walk, he wouldn’t let us change his PJs, he hadn’t had a wet diaper since 6am, he had nasty green stuff coming out of his nose, and his eye.  Again we took both kids in so they could check Bug too. Again they ran the RSV test on her, and again it came back negative. (This is a very good thing. It’s harder the younger the kid is. The case of RSV my 25 month old son got could have easily killed my 2 1/2 month daughter. As I type this we’re not completely out of the woods) 

They said Demon had a massive infection in one ear, and pink eye, but his lungs still sounded good. They gave us a prescription for oral antibiotics and sent us home with the warning that if he continued to not drink and got dehydrated we were going to have to go to the ER. 

At 5pm, out of desperation, and under a suggestion from some mom friends I gave him a tylenol suppository to try and bring his fever down.  His fever came down slightly (from 102 to 101) and he drank a couple of ounces, and ate a handful of grapes, which was more then he’d eaten or drank all day. By 9pm his fever was on the rise again, and he was insisting on going to sleep, still refusing liquids and medicine. 

I called the exchange again and they told me I had to take him in to the ER. I cried. So, at 9pm Monday night we called my step-father-in-law to babysit Bug and packed Demon, still in his PJs up to take to the ER.  It took us 2 hours to even get a room. By the time Demon was checked out he had two massive ear infections, pink eye in both eyes, was showing signs of serious dehydration, and his lungs sounded “junky.”  (This was, at most, 12hrs after our last check.) 

They started an IV for fluids and antibiotics. Having to start an IV in a small child is hard. Having to start an IV in a small child who’s dehydrated is very hard. The nurse went in through his wrist and had to dig around for quite awhile to hit the vein. She then popped the end off, and went looking for the piece to use the IV for a blood draw, letting him bleed dark red sluggish blood on the table. I’ve never had a bad reaction to blood, but that did it for me. At this point I failed my child. I couldn’t hold him. I couldn’t comfort him. I had to sit on the floor with my head between my knees while I struggled with everything that I had not to pass out or throw up. He kept crying, “mama, mama!” When they finished my husband picked him up and snuggled him, my husband was in tears. Demon kept begging us to take the IV “off” telling us he was “done.”  They started the IV fluids, and we put in his favorite movie. (Which I had remembered to pack) 

A few hours later they came back in and checked on him.  The difference with just fluid was really amazing. He was like a whole different little boy. Unfortunately this meant he had more energy, and was more upset about being confined to a bed and having an IV in his arm. They sent us down to get X-rays on his lungs. My husband and I both had to hold him down for the X-rays, but at least it was quick, and nothing compared to the IV.  While we waited for the X-ray results they gave him IV antibiotics, and another round of IV fluids.  The X-rays showed what the doctor called, “text book viral pneumonia typical with RSV.”  his oxygen levels were good enough, and he had turned around enough, that they sent us home at 3:30am.  The pink eye, and green junk from his nose, was completely gone. I was up with Demon, and then Bug, until about 8am again. When we left the ER they told us to have Demon rechecked Wednesday.

Monday morning I had started coughing up technicolor junk from my case of RSV. I called the doctor who called in a prescription for me. Tuesday my husband went to urgent care and was diagnosed with bronchitis from his case of RSV. Turns out I’m allergic to the antibiotics the doctor’s office called in. I called them Tuesday and asked for a different one. They called in another one I’m allergic too. Today, Wednesday, I got one I’m not allergic to. Bummer is I now have a nasty case of bronchitis and a nasty sinus infection. 

Tuesday Demon was drinking, and eating again. Not a ton, but some, which was better then Monday. He was also walking around little bits, and talking. Neither of which he had been doing on Monday. 

At Demon’s recheck this morning one of his ears was looking clear, but the other one was still really infected. They gave us the choice of ten days of oral antibiotics, or an antibiotic shot. Now, if you’ve never had the shot done on a child, it’s brutal. It’s a super thick, intramuscular shot. This means super long needle, and really painful. So much so, in fact, that they split it into two syringes, which they inject simultaneously.  Demon had had the shot once before, at 6 months old, for a nasty ear infection when he stated throwing up all his medicine. At the time he was too little to do much more then cry. This year with his flu shot (which is also an IM shot) he was much more objectionable. Telling me it hurt, refusing to walk on his leg after the shot, limping around all day. Not that I blame him, those things hurt. So I knew what I was in for if we opted for the shot. I also knew that, while he had been drinking, and we’d been able to get some tylenol into him by hiding it in his juice, he was still refusing to take any and all medications, and wasn’t drinking the juice very reliably. We decided that 1, painful, horrible shot, was better then 10 days of fighting about swallowing medicine, and another potential trip to the ER.  So I held him down while they stuck him. My poor baby.

They said his lungs still sounded “junky” but not horrible, and the medicine wouldn’t help with any of the RSV symptoms, because it’s viral, so we’d just have to wait it out, which I knew. I don’t mind, as long as he’s not in distress. They also said if he’s still running any sort of fever by Friday to bring him back in for another shot. They looked Bug over again, and she still looks fine. They warned us if she starts wheezing at all to immediately take her in. It’s more severe in younger children, and it was fast moving in Demon. There is no doubt that if Bug gets it she’ll end up in the hospital for a prolong stay, if we’re lucky. 

All the doctors are in agreement, that what we got in our house was a particularly severe case of RSV, for whatever reason. So we got the nasty version of a nasty virus. I have never felt so helpless, or seen my little boy so sick in his entire life. (And he nearly died at 4 weeks old) I’m not sure I’ve ever had a worse cold then this one, and every time I think of “just a runny nose” I can’t help but chuckle a little at that absurd understatement. 

I think two nightmares of parenting are; having your infant contract Beta Strep and having your preemie get a severe case of RSV. We have now weathered both of these storms and, so far, come out on the winning side. I would like to say it’s because we did everything right. I would like to give a list of steps we took that led to the outcome that we’ve had, a map for other parents to follow. I don’t believe it though. I do believe we did everything right, but I don’t believe that is why my son is ok. I think we could have done everything right and he could have not been ok. I believe we have come out where we have due to luck and God’s grace, but not “right” action on our part. 

At the moment my 2 month old is the only one in the house who doesn’t have a severe case of RSV. This isn’t due to anything we have done particularly. Keeping my children separate isn’t an option. It’s a small house, I’m the primary caregiver, and there is only one mommy.  The only thing protecting her, I believe, is the grace of God, and the synagis shot (RSV vaccines) she got upon leaving the NICU 2 months ago. The vaccine is only supposed to be good for 30 days. It could be there is some other reason she isn’t as sick as the rest of us, but probably it was the shot. 

So now we cross our fingers. We hope my son continues to mend, that he doesn’t have to go and get another round of the antibiotic shot. We hope my daughter continues to remain RSV free and there are no other ER visits in our immediate future. We hope mommy and daddy both manage to recover quickly. (Because parents don’t get sick days) And we hope that we have managed not to infect any of our many helpers from this last week. 

I slept on the floor of my son’s room, or in his bed with him, for four nights straight because he would wake up coughing and crying. My husband even took a turn last night. I have watched my daughter closely to make sure she isn’t getting sick. I have gone without sleep, food, and medical attention (as has my husband) because I was too preoccupied with my children’s health, or simply because they were sick and they needed me. Whatever else I may do or say, let their never be any mistake about how much I love my children, and what lengths I will go to for their well being and happiness. 

Mama Brag Post

I will most likely be posting a lot about my frustrations with my children. As people, I think it is rare that we need an outlet for the good. Everyone wants to hear good. More often we need an outlet for the bad. Most of what is written ends up being bad. Rarely do you call people at 2am with good news. Especially relatively mild good news.  With that in mind, and because I want to, I thought I’d write a mama brag post. (This is me bragging about my wonderful children)

On Monday I took Demon for his two year check up and Bug for her two month check up. The pediatrician was examining Bug, stops takes a step back, and says, “she’s getting ready to roll over,” with no small amount of surprise in her voice. I said, “yea, she’s really strong. She can hold her head up, push her chest off the floor and hold it there, get her knees under her and push up. It’s a little crazy.” The doctor seemed very impressed with my little girl five and a half week early preemie. She’s 22 in. and 12.3 lbs, which puts her in the 50th-75th% for height, weight, also head size, non adjusted. She’s met all her milestones and then some.

For those of you who don’t have kids, or haven’t had a preemie: they do all your checkups based on their birthdate. All of their milestones though are based on their due date. So technically, both my kids get an extra six weeks to meet all of their milestones. Six weeks it a big difference when you’re only seven weeks old. (We had her checkup a little early) 

Demon has met all his millstones, and exceeded them, as always.  He’s 32 lbs and 37in, which puts him above the 95th percentile for height and around the 75th for weight. The doctor was also impressed with how good he is with Bug. He’s never made any show of aggression towards her, which I really have been expecting. It’s more then common for toddlers to be a little aggressive towards new babies. They don’t mean anything by it. They’re too young to understand that other people feel pain, much less that they can cause that pain. They just lash out from frustration. He hasn’t (yet) done anything aggressive towards her. In fact, he’s very gentle and protective of her. He likes to show her off to people, and show them how to interact with her - by petting her head and saying, “nice,” hehe. He will bring me her pacifier and blanket if she cries. If we’re in the other room (doing a bath or diaper or something) and she starts crying he says, “Bug, crying,” or “oh no, Bug.”   He takes Bun (his very favorite stuffed rabbit) and puts him in the baby swing, covers him with a blanket and turns it on. He’ll also tuck Bun in in the Pack N Play if Bug’s not in it. He likes to bring me Bun and have him swaddled. This morning he insisted Bun needed a diaper and a shirt. 

Here both kids woke up and i lost my train of thought, because it’s only 5am, and I only have so much at 5am. Anyway, I’m proud of my wonderful kids! Even if they were born this way, and it has nothing to do with what i do with them. 

Cold Coffee and Warm Beer

When looking for a name for my blog I considered a few different things. I suppose I wasn’t feeling very creative. Katywampus is a screen name I use just about everywhere. It comes from Catawapmpus. 

Catawampus:

Main Entry: askew. 

Part of Speech: adjective. 

Definition: crooked. 

Synonyms: askance, askant, aslant, awry, bent, buckled, catawampus , cockeyed, crookedly, curved, knotted, lopsided, oblique, obliquely, off-center, slanted, slanting, to one side, topsy-turvey, turned, twisted, yaw ways, zigzag.

It’s a term I’ve only ever heard used by engineers or construction people. It means literally diagonal to where it is supposed to be. If you take the definition and apply it to someone’s state of mind, or personality though it takes on a whole new meaning. I’m always entertained by it. I always feel slightly off kilter or unbalanced it seems. I think parenthood, particularly, is punctuated by feeling off your game, or out of step. A bit catawampus if you will. Plus, it’s a fun word, and I get to use it in an ironic way, which I always find entertaining. 

It occurred to me though, after finally settling on a title, that I should have named it “Cold Coffee and Warm Beer.” My husband is always telling me that he hasn’t gotten to drink his beer cold, or his coffee warm since we had kids. That’s about two years now. I think probably that is the best descriptive explanation of having children. It’s putting all of your previous joys and wants behind the needs of someone else. Someone tiny, and small, and helpless, and totally worth it, but still, coming in second in your own life. 

 A lot of people have a hard time with the adjustment. I think that’s the primary reason parenthood is so hard for so many people. (That and sleep deprivation) We spend years trying to figure out how to take care of ourselves, how to get our own needs met, and then give it all up for someone else. We spent hours, and days, and years trying to figure out how to take care of this new person. Trying to figure out what they need, why they’re unhappy, how to make then happy, and still have then grow up to be self sufficient and independent. We spend hours, and days, and months learning to translate screams and cries, learning to function on little to no sleep, and little to no food. There are all sorts of things we would love to do... if we only had time. We don’t have time, of course, because we’re putting someone else’s needs in front of our own.  This is the hallmark of parenting though. It is what makes us good parents. It is how it is supposed to be, and why we have such a hard time figuring out how to put ourselves, or our marriage first later I think. It is why we occasionally fall to pieces, and why so many marriages with kids don’t make it. It is why parenthood can bring more joy and satisfaction, but less happiness. It is why it has taken me two hours to type one page. 

We are parents. We don’t ever get to drink the beer cold or the coffee warm. 

This also happens to be the reason I bought a coffee maker that uses those little pods and makes just one cup of coffee at the push of a button, as well as an electric tea kettle. For some strange reason all my recent stove top tea kettles have been destroyed, (melted) and I can’t seem the find the time to measure, avoid spilling, or clean up coffee grounds, not to mention wait for an entire pot of coffee to brew. 

I am Mommy

I am Mommy. 

I wash hair, cut nails, clean cuts, kiss booboos, brush teeth, do laundry, wash dishes, and make bottles. I change diapers, sheets, outfits, and clothing multiple times a day. I clean pee, poop, puke, blood, snot, crumbs, and miscellaneous sticky stuff. I hold my children up with praise, and down for shots. I am teacher, nurse, chauffeur, art director, dietitian, and coach. I teach lessons and enforce rules. I make breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Then I clean it off the table, floor, walls, and blinds. I go without sleep, food, and often showers. I don’t get vacation days, sicks days, pay, or (often) acknowledgment. I don’t go to the bathroom alone. I shower with the door, and curtain, open. My life is primary colored, motion activated, and runs on batteries. I care for children, dogs, and fish. I do play dates, play class, music class, art class, and children’s museums.  I teach numbers, colors, letters, and tame tantrums. I pray for health, help, and sanity.  I am the center of someone's universe.  I comfort my children when they are hurt, hold them when they are sick, pick them up when the fall, and let them use me to climb higher. Sometimes I succeed and sometimes I fail, but I always try. 

I am a mom, and I’m sure I’m not alone. 

cartoon from everydaypeoplecartoon.com

Exercise

Yesterday we went to free play at Gymboree in hopes that the big room wouldn't be so novel and Demon would stay in music class today. He was worn out by the end slipped and twisted his ankle, or pinched his toes or something. He was fine, but had a huge tantrum, and then was limping all around going, "ow ow ow." Of course, it was right at the end, so we had to leave. I packed Bug all up and out we went. In the middle of the street he pulls out the "ow ow ow" and sits down. I had to pick him up and carry him!! So here I am carrying my 35lb (or so) toddler a 10lb infant in a 40lb pumpkin seat for a block and a half. We walked by a gym with big windows and people on treadmills. I thought, "HA!"


I'm fat. I've had 2 kids in under 2 years, the last a mere 6 weeks ago. I'm working on losing weight, but it's a slow process. I hate gyms, but I'd kill for some time on the treadmill. (It'd be easier if I only had to kill someone to get it, or better yet, kill someone to be thin. As it is I'll have to work instead)  The gym was one of those "women's gyms."  I'd been thinking maybe I should join and go work out there. As I was struggling down the street with my load of children it occurred to me that wasn't going to happen. Also, that if just walking was going to work that walking and carrying an extra 85lbs should work even better. Maybe I just have to practice carrying both kids for further and further distances. Every time I have to carry both of them, or even just my super tall toddler, I think, "you think I'd be thinner."  It seems to me that carrying around all that extra weight and chasing a toddler on a never ending basis would cause you to lose weight. Not so much so. 

A Good Day to Die

My youngest brother is 13yrs younger then me. He was always my little buddy. When I would visit, we would go to the park. My step mom would take the older two kids, and I'd spend a lot of time with my youngest brother. People used to give me the dirtiest looks. I suppose I looked old enough to be his (unwed, teenage) mother. I always thought it was funny. When he was about the age Demon is now he had huge blond curls and would follow me everywhere, and do whatever I did. I thought it was sweet. (I was around 15 at the time and getting out of my self centered teenage idiocy.)

When he was 5 and i would visit I would stay in the guest room in the basement down the hall from the playroom. He used to love Quake. Which was like the 2nd generation of Doom. (And for those of you living under a rock for the last 20yrs, Doom was a gruesome first person shooter) He used to turn the volume on the computer speakers all the way up. ALL the way up. No matter where I'd set it the night before, he'd come down, turn the nob all the way up, and the walls would shake.  One morning I got up to ask him to turn it down, he asked me if I'd like to play. I told him I didn't know how to play. He said, "I'll teach you."

So, however early it was in my 18yr old world, I thought this was an interesting opportunity. What would a 5yr old teach me about computer games? This is how you walk? Shoot, look, jump, whatever? He was so darn cute though, and clearly wanted to play with me, I couldn't walk away. So I sat down with a chuckle, he climbed in my lap, and we started up the game. 

As soon as the game loads he goes, "ok, ok, ok, ok, ok, what you do is: you push this button ~ *click* and type 'it's a good day to die'"  *tappity tappity *itsagooddaytodie*  

...and here my brain stalled out

For those of you living under that rock what my 5yr old little brother had just done was turn on God Mode. This allows you to play the game without taking any damage. It's a cheat, a code that allows you to win.

So, here, my first instruction from a 5yr old was to cheat. Not that I'm completely opposed to it in 1 player games, but it's usually not my first plan of attack.

So, all these ideas crashed into my head at once. He'd just cheated, he, apparently, ALWAYS cheated, was he that bloodthirsty? plus, a 5yr old shouldn't be able to say, "it's a good day to die," much less SPELL IT. I wasn't sure if I should be horrified or proud. Was he a genius? A bloodthirsty little killer waiting to happen?

So here I am staring at him, mouth hanging open, and he looks up at me with his adorable, cherubic 5yr old face, and huge eyes, and says, "now they can't hurt you," and my brain shifted back into gear.

He's not playing to win, he's not a bloodthirsty little person, he has no clue what he's just put into the computer, not really. All he knows is that he's found magic armor. These magic words stop everything scary in the game from hurting you, therefor rending it not scary anymore. He's taken a game, acclaimed at the time for it's realism and gore, and made it harmless to his 5yr old self. And his first instruction to me is to put on the magic armor, so nothing can hurt me either. 

He played a lot of bloody games during his early childhood. I think about that now as I struggle with what my son will or will not watch, and what he, eventually, will or will not play as far as games are concerned. My youngest brother is one of the best gamers I know (my middle brother being the other best gamer I know.) He's also one of the most gentle souls I've ever met. He is kind, and caring, and I think still trying to protect everyone. I remember him and his 5yr old magic armor a lot. i remember my shock as he typed, "it's a good day to die" into the computer, and my revelation at what it meant to him, and I always look a little closer at children. Usually there is innocence under every action.