Thursday

Oh how you love a little taste of my life, down here in Florida. I know you think it’s all sunshine, oranges and flamingos. I bet you didn’t know that it is also all pollen all the time. And this year? Worst pollen EVER.

I moved here with little to no allergies that I knew about. And since I have been here (and we are going on 4 years now), this fourth year is a bitch. A total huge bitch.

A pollen covered bitch.

So I have been a sneezing, itchy eyeballs, miserable person for about 2 weeks.

V has been slowly building up to getting sick. It seems to be a regular routine. So his doctor (my doctor~actually, the doctor I work for) checked him out today, put him on some antibiotics and, freakily, ordered an X-ray of his adenoids. Enlarged adenoids can cause bleeding? I didn’t know that…

Anyways, my Mummy-mind has leaped straight from sinus infection to adenoidectomy. I have rather an active imagination. So something fun for me to set up for the Little man in the next few weeks.

And so home I went, picked up antibiotics and, upon my arrival home, was greeted by the Dog, Little Man and the faint ‘hello~~’ coming from the couch.

My husband is sick again.

And the rest of my evening went as follows:

Snot, snot, snot.

Boogers.

I hate dinner.

I only want to eat “Nana toast” (which I, coincidentally, invented last night out of sheer desperation to get V to eat something. He hasn’t been that interested in food since he’s been so congested).

Scrambled eggs thrown all over the floor by V and quickly eaten by my dog.

He then fell, tripped, turned too quickly, arched his back to get away from me and hit his head 4 times. That resulted in 4 different screaming secessions.

M went to bed.

V went to bed.

I poured a glass of wine, sped off to get Thai takeout and sped home to drink the wine.

How I long for a Good Friday and an Easter Monday (which M didn’t believe me exists) of my very own.

Heres to no more bonked heads, another glass of wine and the desperate hope that I don’t get sick over the weekend!!

xoxo a.m.

Days like these…

5:00 am, alarm goes off.

5:30 the alarm goes off again.

And then, then no alarms. No alarms at all.

Yawning, I rummage under my duvet to where I have stashed my alarm clock so I can ignore it. In the dim light of the bedroom, I half open my right eye and peek at it.

6:29

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

M had to leave for work in 15 minutes and he was currently snoring. My left eye was still closed. V was still sleeping. So was the dog.

M, who was asleep, somehow managed to instantly manifest himself in the shower. Naked. Thank goodness he managed to take his clothes off.

I walked the dog, woke up V and traded places with M. It was a baby hand-off.

I had a 2 second shower. I forgot my breakfast on the kitchen counter. I did, however, manage to get myself dressed, get V dressed and drive my car.

Slightly out of breath, I managed to make it to daycare. We entered the classroom to the slightly apologetic smile of one of V’s teachers.

Unfortunately, she told us, DCF requires that students how have a documented fever not return to school for a 24 hour period. V was sent home yesterday at 4:10 with a fever of 100.8.

She reminded me that this was in the packet of papers that I filled out (I filled them out in September). Apparently I was expected to remember the fine print.

I was not pleased.

So Little Man went to work with Mummy this morning. And I called my Father-in-law, who happily came and picked him up and took him to Ikea for breakfast.

I swear I seethed about this all morning long. And I wonder how I will act around them this morning when I take him back. I haven’t quite made up my mind yet.

Later in the day I did receive an apologetic call from the school’s director, apologizing for the confusion with some blathering about how it was a ‘new policy’ (my ass) and how she was ‘sorry for the confusion’ (which she wasn’t). I knew she was only saying that as I had left the school saying that I ‘understood that there are rules, but I would have appreciated a reminder when I left with him the day before as I could have easily made arrangements’.

Regardless, I know the way it goes. When you work in one field, you automatically assume that everyone who employs your services understands the ins and outs. But the truth is, everyone knows very little.

So expecting me, as a mother of a young child, to automatically know the policies and procedures when a child has a fever is ridiculous. Perhaps if V was 3 or 4. But he isn’t even 2 yet and only  there for 3 months. So pardon me. Pardon freakin’ me for having not memorized all the paperwork that I signed and handed in in September and for, apparently, being a little ‘confused’ (as his young teacher explained to me with a wee frowny face) by everything.

And now, thursday morning, as I watch V eat breakfast and enjoy some morning Sesame Street, I am still thinking about how to handle the situation this morning. Humourously? Sternly? A combo of both?

One thing is for sure, there will be no apologizing on my part for anything. And since I am writing this down, I will be sure to remember to NOT apologize (it’s a bad habit of mine).

Wish me patience and a calm demeanor!

xoxo a.m.

Karma

So the other day my son  threw up everywhere. So awful. And even more so since the whole incidence was in public.

And then it suddenly was Christmas.

How are these 2 events linked together? This was information that I learned during Christmas morning with my sweet boys while I was unwrapping a prezzie from the Big M.

And so back to Tuesday we go, V and I wandering around the Mall on one side, while M went the other way. He likes to do his shopping last-minute. So as V and I were cruising, we strolled past the Aveda store. I am such a sucker for anything Aveda and was thinking about something for my sister-in-law and so in I strolled.

It’s basically like shopping at MAC, the shop staff is quite posh and slightly unapproachable. Completely dressed in black.  Impeccable hair.

Anyways, strolling in and around the closet that is Aveda, deeply inhaling the gorgeous aromas of their products. Of course, just staffed with one person who was deeply involved in a complicated discussion regarding conditioners.

I had a wee question to ask him, so V and I waited patiently near the till while he rang his customer up.

Suddenly, without any warnings at all, started projectile vomiting.

All I could say was “What the hell?!?!” as I tried to catch the vomit spewing out of him with one hand, while the other tipped him forward so he wouldn’t choke. And spew it did. Seemingly endless in manner…

While my hands were outstretched, both catching and supporting, the Aveda guy and customer made horrified faces at me and my child. Aveda guy offered me some towels and then went back to the counter to endlessly apologize to the blond woman who just stared at me with her lip curled in disgust. Childless bastards.

It felt endless, but maybe was approximately a minute or so. And then I cleaned up vomit for a few minutes. V just sat there in his stroller, looking shocked, I was shocked. Aveda guy was shocked. I was embarrassed. And apologetic. Aveda guy said “I’d help you, but I hope you understand that I am feeling a bit nauseaous” . And gave me a garbage bag when I asked.

I joked “Well, there could be worse places than Aveda! At least you can easily cover up the smell!!” I don’t think he thought it was as funny as I did.

I pretty much ran out of there with V, on the phone with M the whole time…

“Honey? Vomit-fest. V is covered. We are leaving. Meet you are Sears?”

“Sounds good. Why don’t you buy V something clean to wear at Sears?”

“Ok!” I said, slightly freaked out and panicked. But, of course, calm at the same time. Outwardly, anyways…

That stroller was practically on fire, it was going so fast. And a trail of vomit-odor followed us through the mall and into Sears. And into the elevator. And as the doors were starting to shut, someone shouted out for us to hold it. Really? Are you sure?

She was, and politely rode with us up to the second floor. In a vomit elevator.

I raced into the kids section going “2-t 2-t 2-t 2-t” in my head.  I only wanted that size, a shirt and pants or shorts. Quickly found some serviceable things and dashed off to the check-out.

Standing in line, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other with V in front of me caked in vomit. No-one gave us a second glance.

I reached the counter and had the following ridiculous converation:

“Did you find everything you were looking for?”

“Yes, thank you, I did.”

“Do you have any coupons you’d like to use today?”

“No, thank you.”

“Would you like to use your Sears card?”

“No, I don’t have one thanks.”

“Would you like to apply for one?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Everything would be almost free if you did~~~!”

“My child is covered in vomit, so I am not really interested at this time.”

The look on her face was priceless. And then she started apologizing. And frankly I didn’t care at all. I just paid, ripped the clothes off the hanger at the counter and refused her offer of a bag.

Back to the elevator, down to the second floor and out into the parking lot. M met me with the car on the sidewalk, which was where I stripped the Little Man down and changed his vomit-clothes. Most of them went right in the trash.

The day didn’t get any better from there. It basically sunk into vomit-hell.

Vomit, phone calls to the pediatrician, more vomit. Quick stop at home. Bath. Change. Vomit. Off to the Dr. More vomit. Vomit. Vomit. And some more vomit. Slight dehydration of the little man.

Christmas morning, as I opened a package from M, I learned more about karma than I ever knew. As I unwrapped several bottles of Aveda haircare products, M could barely contain his glee as he recounted his story. Apparently he had been in the Aveda store about 15 minutes before me. And Aveda guy was a total ass to him. So awful and condescending that M wondered why I liked their products.

So Aveda guy? Right back at ya…

Gravy

Maybe that's what I should dowith the left-overs...

No more verbal diarrhea about, well, garbage. Part of my New Years resolution.(see last nights post for garbage)

Plus do more yoga, blog more about interesting things that attract more readers, potty train V, run a 10 k, spend more time with M, lose this damned baby weight, contemplate a Masters Degree, maybe get pregnant… Clearly I am setting my sights high… nothing wrong with that!

I am just getting a head start, preparing the list of ‘resolutions’ a little early. We all know how much I like to make lists.

Can I just complain about the baby weight for a minute?

It’s a son of a bitch to lose.

SON OF A BITCH. Period.

Before there is even a conversation about baby #2, this weight needs to be so last week. Let’s ignore the fact that I have been talking about another baby for EVER. And focus instead on how I am going to find time to shake this crap off.

Already I am back on the super diet. And am about to hop back aboard the exercise train. I had deboarded due to some antibiotics that I was taking that made me feel a bit funny. But that kicked that nasty cold to the curb, so I was happy to sacrifice a week of exercise for that.

So welcome back yoga!! My first class will be this Thursday night. Now it won’t be Bikram yoga. The studio is now just too far away from my house, plus now that my home owners association fees include a membership to the YMCA I have no argument to not go to ‘free’ yoga. I don’t care, I just need yoga.

I really feel like it brings some measure of balance into my life. Calms me down. Makes me slightly less spastic.

So I eagerly await Thursday night’s appearance.

And on a completely different topic, my husband made  2 litres of gravy last night.

Why you ask? Not too sure.

We were eatting left over roast from Sunday night and I asked him to go and get some dry gravy mix. Gravy in a jar creeps me out.

Anyways, he came home with 2 packages and proceeded to spend about 30 minutes sauteing mushrooms in red wine, mixing the powder and water together in a separate bowl and then slowly added it to the boiling water on the stove. You would not even believe the mess in the kitchen. It looked like he had been cooking a la Julia Child.

It was gravy!!

Anyways, if you need some, just let me know. I have about 2 litres in the fridge and am happy to share it with you…

xoxo a.m. (a gravy-filled atlanticmama)

Sparkle!

Please bless this home with sparkles and multi-colour shoes.

Things we do to our children.

For example, the things I do to mine.

Friday was a short day for me. Christmas party at work, a luncheon with ‘games’ and in my excitement at leaving work early I planned just a few extra things. Things that, in retrospect, should have just been ‘fit in’ on their own day. I was a wee bit determined though and we all know what that’s like.

Xmas photos at the mall (in the tropical thunder-storm that hit the area?! Sure! No problem!). Late night trip to the grocery store (late being 7 pm). Dinner at 7:30. Bed at 8 pm. This is all very unusual for all members in my household, especially the dog. I think he relies on routine and gets confused when things don’t go according to his plans.

I stayed up way later than everyone else.

And thought about things.

About the lady I met in the photo studio last night who exchanged Iphone apps with me. Thanks for ‘Hatch’! Her son was roughly the same age as V and I couldn’t help but notice that she was loosing her hair. She was much older than I am/was/will be.

Whatever that means.

Anyways…

About the photographer that made the most interesting noises I have ever heard in order to gain and keep Little Man’s attention. Good job! I didn’t even know those noises existed! And how do you learn them? And oh, how I don’t want to ever be a photog working at a place like that.

About how crappy driving in the rain is here. It might be the equivalent to driving in the snow on Vancouver Island. Despite the fact that it rains here a lot, no-one still knows how to drive in it. Hence my Island reference. Re: snow.

About how letting Little Man stay up until 8 pm equals me getting to sleep in until 9 am. Not such a bad thing.

Anyways, we got home late. The only thing he wanted to eat was banana and milk. Who am I to argue with him? We were waaaaaay beyond that point. We were at the point of  ‘nobody matters at all’,  least of all Mummy. At least he ate.

And Sunday was the same… but slightly more of ‘Things we do to our children’ and ‘What the hell were we thinking!’.

Both of these topics seem to come up rather often.

We went to Downtown Disney. For those not in Florida, it is a cute area, on Disney property but not attached to any of the parks. Movie theatres, shops, Lego stores, McDonald’s (apparently an essential), it’s all that kind of thing.

It was a no-nap day. Just a light snooze in the car, followed by french fries and chocolate milk (which is the hugest treat ever). V, in his sweater, had the run of the place. And then M had the brilliant idea to see if he liked cotton candy.

Well, he does. And sugar gives him energy despite the lack of nap.

We got back to Hunters Creek around 4 pm. And then home, after a stop at the grocery store around 5 pm. And what did we buy at the store?

A roast. Because on a Sunday night, around 6 pm, this is clearly the perfect thing to slide in the oven. At the time we were discussing it (3:30 pm) it was! And sounded so delicious!

When we got home (5 pm), and put it in the oven (6 pm) it seemed like the beef was a dream. And a stupid dream at that. We had sushi for dinner while the roast cooked.

And we had Roast for dinner tonight. Way to plan!

Things I thought about today…

About how demanding people are. Is it an American thing? Not sure, but the kind of screaming that I face on the telephone is the equivalent to a toddler tantrum. People pout and fight when they don’t get their way. To be honest, it’s rather annoying. I would rather V have a temper tantrum in the middle of a busy street than talk to some guy who can’t understand why his post-nasal drip isn’t cause for National Concern (sometimes you can just hear the capitals).

Or why we can’t see you ‘right now’. Or why you can’t  ‘just come in and wait….. it will only take “5 minutes”‘. Pretty much this is every conversation that I will be having until years end.

About how I missed my BF Shanaenae* today at the office. Naenae, you know I need to see you every day.

It’s moving into that time of the year. Yes, that’s right. It’s Nature’s Menstrual cycle. Everyone gets bitchy. And the closer it gets to Xmas and New Years, the worse it gets for all of us making appointments and doing things of other Nation Concern to random people. Bastards.

How I felt sad that V ran into daycare this morning without a care in the world. I literally was like “Oh. Ok. Um….. Um. I guess I’ll go now…” Meanwhile V is happily playing without a care in the world with another little boy. My feelings were just a little bit hurt. Just a little. *sigh* Ok, a lot.

But miraculously, I felt waaaay better this afternoon when I went and picked him up and he immediately dropped everything he was doing and ran to me. And then clung to my legs.

THAT’S what I want to see!!!! Pure dependency!

All it does is cement that my little man is growing up. And that, probably, I need to have another baby.

Lord, please bless this home with a feminine child.

Mumma needs to buy sparkly shoes for someone…

*Girl, I am only using your Ghetto name for privacy reasons….

The Ladies

I know she only has one arm... sometimes the Ladies room is just that dangerous...

Things I did today for the first time….

Got poop stuck under one of my fingernails. And no, it was not mine. In 17 months, this was the first time it has happened. How it hasn’t, no idea…. however, lately he has become extremely thrashy. Like his father, mid-90’s. So genetics. Ya. Thanks M, for passing that genetic gift on.

I also took V into the Ladies Room with me today. Why I thought this would be a brilliant idea? Not sure… But I had to go to the bathroom and we were about to hit up a long drive. Luckily no-one was in the room when we entered and it stayed that way the whole time we were in there.

The moment his feet hit the floor of the stall, he turned around and those little fingers went right for the latch. Oh the fast mind of a mother…. “Ooooh, look honey…. toilet paper! On a roll! Oooooooh! Look! We can keep pulling and pulling and pulling it…..”

And that’s how he kept himself occupied the whole time we were in there. And then we washed our hands. With soap. All wet, freshly washed hands go directly down the front of Mummy’s shirts and into her bras.

And then there was the first time I said ‘NO!!’ in a very strong manner to Little Man. And then he laughed at me. Actually, he laughed so much, that he fell down on the ground and proceeded to keep giggling.

I even pulled out all of the stops with a full-on first, middle and last name firm, warning-like tone.

He kept laughing at me.

And then he hit his head on  the exact thing that I was trying to steer him away from. Which was the TV stand, in case you were wondering. That stand and all of its wires are truly a beacon to all men.

And then he cried. A lot. And then I felt slightly smug…. I was all like “See?!?! SEE!!!! That’s why I was trying to keep you away from there!!!”.

But since we are not really at a communicating stage yet, he didn’t listen to my logic and kept crying.

And I can’t handle it. So I scooped him up, gave him a cuddle and that crying stopped in…oh…2 seconds….

FAKER!!

I don’t think he really bumped his head at all… I think he just smacked the console and made a sound that was the same as hitting your head…

Damn it! So screwed over here… need more skills to deal with toddlers.

PS… All of these lovely occurrences happened today… just an fyi…

Suck it up, Mummy

How did November suck so fast?

I had high hopes for it. REALLY high ones, especially considering that October was the month of the plague in our little family. I was really over it all. Sick husband. Sick little boy. Projectile vomiting. High fevers. Lethargy. Do I need to go on? Are you getting the picture? Just skip back a few posts and you will be able to read all about it.

So as I got home today, my father-in-law was outside with V playing. I parked, scooped up that little Man and got the down low on how V had behaved for Pop-Pop and if anything was going on in daycare that I needed to know about.

Last week there was a confirmed case of Hand Foot and Mouth disease. They sent home a handy little info sheet, all about the disease and some ways of combating it. There is no cure. It is just a virus that runs its course and is also fairly common in care facilities with small children. Everything goes into the mouth and everything comes out of the mouth and goes onto everything else.

I was pleased that they had let us know, but thought nothing further about it. My son couldn’t possibly get something like that. Only dirty people do (that thought might have been lurking somewhere in the back of my mind…. it didn’t surface…just saying it was there…).

I clearly must have pissed someone off with that deeply hidden thought as not only is it Monday, but V has a blister inside his bottom lip. And a bit of a rash on his bum. That rash could be anything though. But Day-Care seems pretty sure that is what it is. You know, with all of their medical licenses and stuff.

I’ll be making my weekly call to the pediatrician tomorrow morning.

Read all about what we are going through HERE

I will be trying to suck it up while you are doing that…. (I am a big girl. I can handle this…again…still….forever…)

xoxo a.m.

Breasts

Recently V started something new.

Pointing at my chest, more like poking me in the breasts (gawd, I hate writing ‘breast’, makes me feel like I am a guidance counselor and have a group of teens giggling at me)…anyways, he pokes me in the ‘breasts’ and exclaims ‘Mumma!’. And then he pulls my shirt out and takes a peek down it. And after he’s done that, he looks up at me and grins in the hugest way…

My first reaction? Laughter… Because FOR REAL, how else do you react to something like that?!

That is followed by… ummm…not sure what…blank? Awkward grin? A wtf face?

One of those….

It WAS rather funny. And now it’s moved into a pattern of, say, all the time. Which I guess, in hindsight, is not really a pattern at all. More of a regular event. A daily event actually.

Hm.

As are the other things, and you parents of boys know exactly what I mean. And I can sum it all up with the phrase “It starts early and never ends”. And I mean it. And then, for you non-boy parents, I will throw in the phrase ‘bits’, ‘adjusting’ and ”touching’. Is it clear? Have you ever met a man? Talked with one? Perhaps lived with one?

Then it’s clear…

It is the beginning of man. With each day passing, I understand my husband of almost 5 years just a little bit more. Watching a baby grow into a toddler and into a boy and then into a man…. well it’s basically the evolution of ‘man’ itself.

The breast obsession/hype, followed by the penis obsession.

Oh son of mine, you will not read this for many, many a year. Thank you for the  inspiration…

(and stop poking my breasts like that!)

xoxo a.m.

Memories…

I can’t remember a damn thing.

Now. Partially this is genetic. And partially it’s a ‘I’m getting older’ thing. Although, since I am in my early thirties, that excuse might not fly as high as I would like it too.

Lately (and by lately, I mean the last 4 or 5 months), I have been noticing my memory  is severely lacking. Not in the “I am living in this house with….. who?” kind of department, but more like a “Where did this pen that I am holding come from… I swear I wasn’t holding it 5 seconds ago..”.

Now I had been falling back on that old ‘I have mom-nesia’ thing. BUT. THEN. I read an article in a parenting mag that states that there was a ‘study’ done, indicating that parenthood/mothering is not related to memory loss… or something to that effect. I always believe what I read in magazines. Or, at least I do for about 30 minutes, then get annoyed…
And so I was like “WHAT?!?! It’s not?!?! Huh. Wonder why I can’t remember anything?…… wait a minute… Parenting magazine does not speak the truth all the time… Bastards. “(Bastards is my current favorite word)

Anyways, so for about 30 minutes there I wondered what really was wrong with me. Then at the 31 minute mark, I decided it really was just parenthood. Oh, and combined with first-time home-buying as well. The nastiest of all nasty concoctions. Yuck.

So it is ok that I am holding things in my hand and I am not sure where they came from.

Also it is ok if, at work, I pick up and put down things at a dizzying rate all over the office. And then suddenly run out of pens (that’s what I pick up and put down). Or buy fish and then forget it in the fridge at work. Or day after day walk out of the office, drive half way home and then realize that I forgot all of those boxes that my co-workers have been saving for me at the back door.

And there are a million things more. I just can’t seem to keep my head on straight. I drop things. I knock things over. I enter rooms. Stop. Wonder what I am doing, walk out of them and then 1 minute later walk back in and grab my cell phone.

It is a truly sad state of affairs right now. Punctuated by a continued lack of caffeine (for health purposes).

Wet

Things to not do.

Do not, in your new motherhood-cockiness, undress your 13 month-old in his crib and let him play naked for a few minutes while the tub is filling.

It will lead to disaster, believe me.

I know you know where this is leading, so I won’t bore you with too many details.

V is always ecstatic to be naked. He likes to roll around his crib naked, lolling around on his back with his legs up in the air….. giggling the whole time. Inevitably those chubby little fingers find their way down to ‘the bits’. More giggling ensues… followed by a lot of stretching, pulling and tugging. And giggling

So I left him to his playing and giggling and went to go and check the tub. When I came back, he was standing up, one hand on the (gnawed within an inch of it’s life) crib rail and another clutched around his best friends. With a pleased and relaxed look on his face.

I had a sneaking suspicion as to what had happen. A suspicion that was quickly confirmed as my fingers encountered a warm puddle in the sheets.

*Sigh*

Never a dull moment over here!

M took V swiftly out of the crib and ran him over to the filled tub….. and as he ran, he turned and shouted over his shoulder “I can’t believe you thought that would be a good idea! Jame….. seriously. Changing table equals water-proof…”.

What was I thinking? I guess I was thinking that we hadn’t had any accidents yet, so I thought things were under control. Silly me.

I think at least one of these instances has to happen every week, otherwise M and I will grow too complacent. However, to be honest, they rarely seem to happen to him. Just me.

My life will be filled with pee and poop for the next several years. Eventually I will tire of posting….. not yet….but sometime soon.

It is still rather funny to me…