Parents of the Year... Not!

Today we went to a local Arboretum to check out their Fall Festival. Even though it had rained all week and things were going to be a muddy mess we thought it would be a great place to let C run around and burn off some of that energy. They had piles and piles of pumpkins which was great... small ones he could pick up, big ones to climb on. This Arboretum is pretty kid friendly as they have these little theme houses throughout the grounds that the kids can go in to and play in.

Things were winding down, we were getting ready to head back out to the car and get home for lunch. Just as we were about to leave I spotted a kid-sized bench. I thought it would be really cute to get a picture of C sitting on this bench. My husband went along with my request, placing our son on the bench and then stepping back several feet to get out of the frame. Just then, C leans forward and does a face plant right onto the ground. That is, his feet didn't even hit the ground first. He didn't cry, he wasn't upset, and, most importantly, he wasn't injured. We, of course, felt terrible. Luckily, it had rained so much since the ground soaked and softened the blow. I'm not sure if anyone saw the incident. If they had, they could add it to the ever-growing list of reasons why we shouldn't be nominated Parents of the Year.

Before the "incident"

After the "incident"

Please check out this worthwhile blog from a Daddy blogger...

Ever heard of the American Girl doll line by Mattel? Please check out this blog post from Clark Kent's Lunchbox. It is a well written post by SAHD, Ron Mattocks. Evidently, Mattel sells a homeless girl doll... as the story goes, "Gwen" and her mother live in their car as Gwen's dead-beat dad left them and her mother lost her job. The doll sells for $95. Utterly offensive... on many levels.

Fool, I don't eat Cheerios!

I'm amazed at the behaviors toddlers pick up. Lately, C has been trying to feed his stuffed animals his Cheerios, string cheese, etc. Some of them don't even have mouths or an outline of a mouth but he knows that's where food, generally, goes. He's taken this one step beyond the stuffed animals and now tries to feed the cats the various items. One cat, Moxi, is pretty tolerant of The Boy. When she's had enough she'll run and hide. The other, Snickerdoodle, is a cat from hell. She is much less tolerant and has bapped (she's declawed since we anticipated this problem) The Boy a couple times in an effort to stand her ground. The other day poor Moxi got corralled into his room on accident. C saw this as the perfect opportunity to "share" his Cheerios with her. The look on her face was priceless: one of disgust and confusion. If she could talk I believe she would have said: Fool, I don't eat Cheerios!

Calgon... crack... something take me away

I'm beat. Stick a fork in me... I'm done.

As it turns out the 10 days of amoxicillin for C's ear infection didn't kick it. I called his Ped's office yesterday mentioning we had just finished up the antibiotics on Saturday and now, on Monday, he was running a fever again... might it still be the ear infection? I was assured by the nurse that: NO, no, it was not still the ear infection. Hmmmm... I didn't know that phone diagnoses could be made with things like that. I was instructed to call back if things worsened. Oh yah, that's exactly what happened.

Last night was r-o-u-g-h. C was pretty out of it early in the evening, ended up vomiting and had a fever that crept up to 103.5F. He was up off and on throughout the night. Finally, at 3:30 am we set up shop in his room, spreading blankets all over the floor and slept in his room. He got a few hours of solid sleep. I called the Ped's office again this morning, getting him an appointment for 10 am. After a 35 min wait in the waiting room, we were finally seen. (Let me just say, sick toddler or well toddler, a 35 min wait is torturous. In order to expedite us getting a room I decided to hover over the receptionist desk during the wrestling match with my son. I don't know if it helped us getting a room faster but it sure made me feel better knowing we were annoying them.) So, are you surprised that the diagnosis was ear infection?

Staying at home is challenging. Period. Staying home with a sick kid is downright draining. I'm wiped and will be heading to bed. After some difficulty getting C to bed, I anticipate getting up a few times throughout the night.

It's abstract season and I'm home with a sick kiddo, again...

I don't know about other fields, but in mine the month of October is what I call "abstract season". Two conferences that I typically attend have submission deadlines the first week in November. Add on top of that, a last minute announcement about another internal poster session with the nearby medical school where I have a joint appointment. I'm already behind and feeling the pressure to wrap up these analyses but things move slowly when there are other tasks to attend to: meetings, recruiting events (for research subjects), training sessions, and, oh yah, those pesky experiments. Needless to say, when the day care called and said that C was running a fever of 103F a little selfish part inside of me was angry. Not at C, but at the general situation. Can't one week go by where we're all well?

I thought C was coming down with something. He's had a runny nose the past couple of days. He's also been drooling a lot and putting EVERYTHING into his mouth. (Teething? Cold?) He woke up earlier than usual this morning and wouldn't eat breakfast (very unlike him to skip breakfast). I checked his temperature. Normal. So off to day care we went. Now, I have to admit that I'm not entirely sure I understand the timeframe in which all of these events occurred: outside play, temperature taking, and lunch time. When I got there to pick C up he was sleeping. After I got him up he didn't feel THAT warm to me. He wasn't fussy and didn't seem out of it, like you'd expect with a high fever. I wondered if his temperature was as high as they reported to me on the phone. I got him home and took it, getting 101.3F. Wanting to confirm that our thermometer wasn't broken, I found another digital thermometer and carried out my own experiment: one thermometer under each arm for comparison. How's that for a visual? (Here's a funny thermometer story from another blog.) So, definitely a temp but where did the 103F come from? I'm thinking they took it right after he was running around outside, which would, clearly increase temperature. (We sweat to dissipate that extra body heat.)

So, I guess I get to head back in to the lab after my husband gets home so I can get these analyses going. Not the way I like to start off the week...

WD40--A girl's best friend

Why, you ask, would WD40 be a girl's best friend? Earlier this week I had an enraging experience. Our garage door has been sticking a little when the electric door opener/closer is used to close the garage door. At first it wasn't really annoying since after a couple of tries it would eventually get far enough past the sticking point to actually shut. Well, it had to be on a day when I was running a few minutes late that the door wouldn't shut at all. It would start to shut a couple of feet and then go back to the open position. I've learned that if you stop the process at the right time you can get it past that sticking point. This strategy wasn't working. After about 7 minutes of trying from the driver's seat of my car, I decided that maybe if I got out and stood 2 feet in front the door that maybe that would help. (I don't know why, it just seemed right at the time.) There I am standing in the dark, garage door clicker in hand. It didn't work. I became so enraged I almost resorted to beating the shit out of that stupid door. I'm swearing like a drunken sailor, beginning to sweat a little, and starting to feel a lot like Lou Ferrigno. Suddenly aware that my son is watching me from the back seat, I slowly turn around and wave to him, fake smile and all. He's obliviously kicking his feet and looking around like: man, if she doesn't hurry I'm gonna miss out on claiming the good toys at day care.

I finally decided that I would have to manually shut the garage door, something I had never done before. (We've never lived in a house with a garage!) Okay, I'm a scientist, not an engineer but I managed to pull the right cords and get the thing shut and latched. Thanks to a WD40 purchase that night and some strategic spraying, the door no longer sticks. I no longer have to worry about beating the shit out of a garage door or turning in to the Incredible Hulk. What else can I apply WD40 to? It seems to have magical powers.

The worst work personalities all in one

Since I got to thinking about my son as Fred Sanford (which, by the way, has spread to my husband's co-workers who now affectionately call my son "Freddy") I started thinking about how toddlers are really all the worst work personalities all wrapped up in to one pint-sized being. Sometimes. We've been running a pretty good string of good days, which will now be jinxed because I said it (stoopid, stoopid, stoopid!) but think about those bad times/days and how they can be related to all those quirky personalities at work.

The one without people skills

Work: we've all come across these people (usually engineers, right?) that just can't seem to have appropriate interactions with other people.

Toddler: why do they all of a sudden do something strange that NEVER occurred before? Example, I was bending over picking something off the floor (probably some stale Cheerios or something else my son so nicely threw on the floor) and my son (14 months old, mind you) lifts up the back of my shirt, grabs onto my underwear and yanks it up. WTF? My 14 month old son just gave me a wedgie? Where did he learn that? (I'm gonna blame day care.)

The one that has that 1980's hairstyle but thinks they're cool

Work: you know this person. They probably have the last supply of Aqua Net and still own a crimping iron.

Toddler: hair grows in a different rates making a very strange 'do. Example, up until 2 weekends ago when we finally took C in for his first haircut my son had what we called the Bullet (b-ullet, or baby mullet). Yes, I do realize this is actually MY fault but this isn't about me, now is it?

The one that always puts the bathroom "out of order"

Work: the person that always manages to overflow the toilet or, worse yet, doesn't flush.

Toddler: uh, let's see... during breakfast, leans forward in highchair while grunting and red faced. When asked: are you alright? gives that weird half-smile that can only mean one thing... the unplanned-bath-for-baby-before-mommy-goes-to-work because sometimes it's just easier to start all over.

The sensitive one

Work: the one that cries at the smallest constructive criticism.

Toddler: some days you look at them funny and that's enough to set things off.

The overbearing one

Work: the one that needs to be involved in everything.

Toddler: what ever you have is what I want. Andale, woman!

The disgruntled one

Work: the one that's never happy. They always have something to complain about.

Toddler: what ever you've given me is not good enough. Example, the other day I was feeding my son dinner. He was so fixated on something that was on top of the microwave (where we keep pretzels, Goldfish crackers, etc.). At first I ignored him but the pointing just became too much (yes, mistake #1, I know). I pick up the pretzels, is THIS (said loudly and slowly as if to make more enticing) what you want? I get the violent head shaking and the hand waving. No. I move to the Goldfish, is THIS what you want? Again, head shaking and hand waving. No. I'm beginning to get frightened as I'm running out of options...

So, what I really imagine is all of these personalities rolled up in one barely 3' individual. It's no wonder some days I fear my 14 month old.