Good Times, Scary Times, & Laughing My Rear Off!
Well, since it is my nature to write things in chronological order, I shall begin with the Scary Times:
On Tuesday, December 19, 2006 I was busy with some holiday preparation or another when I noticed Ethan had laid himself down on the floor, bug-style. Having no other thought than to be a bit surprised that he appeared ready for his nap nearly an hour earlier than usual, I resolved to put him in his crib as soon as I'd finished with whatever I was in the middle of doing. However, in another 5-10min, just as I finished whatever I was doing, he was up and playing with his toys again. Fine. Back to work. Another half hour or so goes by and I notice him laying on the floor again. Okay, time for a nap. The second my hands hit his skin I know somethings wrong. I kiss his forehead and know immediately that he has a fever. A real fever. I take him with me to retrieve his thermometer and find confirmation in the reading it gives.
After that, my memory becomes a bit fuzzy so I may have some of the events out of order, but I do know that I rather quickly called Luke, Ethan's Pediatrician's office, and my mother. As an added blessing, my sister was staying with us while she took a preparation course for her RN exams. Her presence was very calming and I am SO grateful not to have been alone! Over the next few days Ethan's temperature ranged from 100.0 (about 2hrs after Infant Tylenol administered) to 104.9 (1hr after Tylenol had worn off). The temperature was his primary symptom. His only other symptoms were a lack of appetite (unheard of for Ethan) and a general listlessly. At the peak of his temperature spikes (which occured regularly in the last half hour before another dose of Tylenol could be almost without exception and which were the worst in the early evening & the wee hours of the morning) Ethan's eyes would glaze over, his face would be completely red, and he would give every impression of being a rag doll- almost not responding to anything or anyone. On day 2 or 3 (can't remember) Ethan went to see his doctor who, although unable to suggest anything new, did give me a lot of confidence boosting information and praised my methods of keeping Ethan's temperature down (Tylenol, lukewarm baths, cool cloths, light clothing & bedding). Oh, she did suggest that if we wanted to, we could "piggy back" Infant Motrin with the Tylenol so as to erase the spikes between doses. However, after purchasing the Motrin and discussing the option at length, Luke and I decided that introducing a new medicine (Ethan had not had it before) with the known side effects of Motrin (being hard on the stomach), combined with our suspicion that his illness was somehow related to his stomach, led us to the decision NOT to use the Motrin afterall. The doctor also noted that Ethan showed no signs of dehydration (always a concern with fever and poor appetites). Phew! ....Well, if memory serves it was Friday morning when Ethan's temperature finally returned to normal and stayed that way. This was a total surprise because the doctor had informed us that this year's fevers were tending to be higher and last longer (7-10days) than in years past. With this knowledge we had put our Christmas and Vacation plans on the "probably not going to happen" list. Thanks to Ethan's miraculously early recovery, we were able to proceed with our plans as originally hoped for. Another pleasant surprise was that Ethan did not develop the post-fever rash which the doctor said was also prevelent this year. Yeah! As suddenly as he had become ill, Ethan was well again! Praise the Lord!
Now on to the Good Times:
On the evening before Christmas Eve, Ethan and I ventured out of the house for the first time in a week. Luke took us to a neighborhood in Clairemont where almost every house on the street was lavishly decorated for the holidays and a couple of the houses were selling hot chocolate and cookies. We splurged and bought some from a soccer? team who was set up in the driveway of one of the houses to raise funds for their upcoming season. Ethan and I shared the cookies while Luke enjoyed the hot chocolate. Ethan, warmly dressed and snuggled in a blanket in our arms, was awwed by the sights on the street and appeared to enjoy every minute of it! On our way back to the car we noticed a two foot tall plastic santa holding a tray full of small boxes standing in the headlight beam of a car parked lengthwise in a driveway and specially decked out for the occasion. The sign attached to the santa's tray read "Please take one per family". Closer inspection of the boxes revealed several small candy dishes and what looked (according to the outside picture) like small metal bell ornaments. Touched by the generosity of the homeowners, we accepted one of the bell boxes as a souvenier of our wonderful night out as a family. To our surprise, when we returned home, we opened the box and found not a small metal bell ornament, but a medium sized porcelain bell with beautiful poinsettias painted on the front! I immediately said to Luke, "Oh good now we have a bell to use when we're sick!" His only response was a sarcastic "Great." lol
This year we celebrated Christmas day with Luke's family at his parents' house. I made a new recipe I'd found for Cranberry Icecream Pie and it was such a hit that I've been requested to make it every Christmas from now on! Ethan had a wonderful time playing with his two aunts, grandparents and great grandparents.
About 3:30 that afternoon we left for our apartment where we unloaded our plunder from Luke's family and reloaded with our gifts for my family along with all the luggage and gear we would need for the following week's trip to Utah for skiing. Arriving at my parent's home sometime around 9pm we inhaled a couple pieces of pizza, fed Ethan, and enjoyed another round of gift giving and receiving. My parents' offered to keep Ethan in their room for the evening to allow Luke and I a good night's sleep to help repair the damages of Ethan's recent sickness. Unfortunately, my mom had to drive the next morning, so when Ethan was still not cooperating an hour later, I retrieved him and took him to the living room couch where we could theoretically sleep without disturbing Dada who had a pounding migraine. Instead, Ethan slept very fitfully on my chest and changed positions about every 10-20minutes throughout the entire night. He capped off the night by overflowing his diaper and peeing through my nightgown onto the only pair of underwear I had not (stupidly) packed in my suitcase which had been promptly burried in the rental trailer upon arrival the evening before. Although Luke kindly retrieved my suitcase while I showered, I think it goes without saying that I was not the perkiest member of the group that morning. It was to be another two days (and another very long night) before we finally discovered the reason for Ethan's general crankiness and restless sleep: His first molar! Merry Christmas! *rolling eyes*
Despite this auspicious start to our skiing vacation, the trip actually turned out pretty great. Luke enjoyed snowboarding- something he hadn't done in years. Ethan hated snow the first day, but changed his mind and loved it the last day. (In between he mostly reaked havoc around the spacious condo and thoroughly enjoyed crawling up and down the stairs to the loft- with a grown up trailing obediently behind.) As for me, my memory of skiing at age 6 proved deceiving. As a 6 year old I'd easily picked up the sport and scared the life out of my mother by flying at breakneck speed down my first real hill so that my father had to speed up to stay with me. I remember not one ounce of fear. Twenty years later with a healthy understanding of what a broken bone feels like and the slow painful recovery and expense it entails, I suddenly found myself completely terrified of going "too fast" - meaning anything more than a turtle's pace so that I could stop instantly without falling. For the full story of my skiing adventure, visit our family blog: www.keepingcurrent.blogspot.com ....trust me, it's worth it! :-D
Okay, now for the Laughing My Rear off Story:
Today, I was working on my laptop in my chair in the living room (gotta love wireless internet!) with Ethan playing with his toys near my feet in front of the entertainment center, when my nose detected something needing attention.
"Ethan come here."
Ethan obediently rises from his squatting position and toddles over to the side of my chair. I take another sniff. Oh yeah. No question.
"Ethan, diaper change." I say. "Let's go. Diaper Change." I motion for him to go around my ottoman and start toward his bedroom.
As I set my laptop down, I watch him obediently follow the route I'd indicated, and notice something VERY wrong!
"Ethan stop." I say firmly, but without any hint that he may be in trouble.
He stops and looks at me curiously as I quickly lean forward and lift him from the armpits, being careful to hold him a foot in front of me. I don't want the poop trailing down his right inner thigh and stuck on his ankle to get anywhere near my clothes.
I carry him down the hall in this fashion and set him on his changing pad. As I reach for a clean diaper I move his wandering right hand away from his diaper area and notice that it is speckled with traces of poo and so, therefore, is my hand. Goody. I look at his mouth and note two spots of poo stuck to his upper lip. Oh no. I quickly wipe as much of the poo from his mouth, hands, leg, and foot as I can with wipees, then strip his diaper off and remove a majority of the poo from that area too. Again holding his beneath his arms, I swiftly carry him across the hall and deposit him in the empty tub.
"Ethan, stay there. Sit. Mama be right back. Sit down. Stay there. Mama be right back." I say this a couple times to ensure that he's caught all my instructions and to watch his face for signs that he has any intent of disobeying. Not seeing any, I grab the phone which had been left in the bathroom and rapidly dial my nurse-on-call (aka mother's) phone number as I head back out into the living room to ascertain in exactly which spot on the carpet he may have been standing when he relieved himself, how many innocent bystanders (aka toys) were splattered/smeared along the way, and exactly how far he trailed his gooey, smelly mess. My mother checks with a coworker who worked in pediatrics and assures me Ethan will suffer no ill effects from eating his own poo and not being able to find more than a handful of dry flakes which must have fallen from his leg, I hang up the phone and return to the bathroom where Ethan grins at me from his still-seated position in the empty tub. (He hadn't moved an inch from where I'd sat him. GOOD BOY!) Now the humor hits me and as I fill the tub in preparation for his bath I grip the side of the tub and laugh hysterically. Ethan grins at me quizzically for a moment and then starts laughing too.
On Tuesday, December 19, 2006 I was busy with some holiday preparation or another when I noticed Ethan had laid himself down on the floor, bug-style. Having no other thought than to be a bit surprised that he appeared ready for his nap nearly an hour earlier than usual, I resolved to put him in his crib as soon as I'd finished with whatever I was in the middle of doing. However, in another 5-10min, just as I finished whatever I was doing, he was up and playing with his toys again. Fine. Back to work. Another half hour or so goes by and I notice him laying on the floor again. Okay, time for a nap. The second my hands hit his skin I know somethings wrong. I kiss his forehead and know immediately that he has a fever. A real fever. I take him with me to retrieve his thermometer and find confirmation in the reading it gives.
After that, my memory becomes a bit fuzzy so I may have some of the events out of order, but I do know that I rather quickly called Luke, Ethan's Pediatrician's office, and my mother. As an added blessing, my sister was staying with us while she took a preparation course for her RN exams. Her presence was very calming and I am SO grateful not to have been alone! Over the next few days Ethan's temperature ranged from 100.0 (about 2hrs after Infant Tylenol administered) to 104.9 (1hr after Tylenol had worn off). The temperature was his primary symptom. His only other symptoms were a lack of appetite (unheard of for Ethan) and a general listlessly. At the peak of his temperature spikes (which occured regularly in the last half hour before another dose of Tylenol could be almost without exception and which were the worst in the early evening & the wee hours of the morning) Ethan's eyes would glaze over, his face would be completely red, and he would give every impression of being a rag doll- almost not responding to anything or anyone. On day 2 or 3 (can't remember) Ethan went to see his doctor who, although unable to suggest anything new, did give me a lot of confidence boosting information and praised my methods of keeping Ethan's temperature down (Tylenol, lukewarm baths, cool cloths, light clothing & bedding). Oh, she did suggest that if we wanted to, we could "piggy back" Infant Motrin with the Tylenol so as to erase the spikes between doses. However, after purchasing the Motrin and discussing the option at length, Luke and I decided that introducing a new medicine (Ethan had not had it before) with the known side effects of Motrin (being hard on the stomach), combined with our suspicion that his illness was somehow related to his stomach, led us to the decision NOT to use the Motrin afterall. The doctor also noted that Ethan showed no signs of dehydration (always a concern with fever and poor appetites). Phew! ....Well, if memory serves it was Friday morning when Ethan's temperature finally returned to normal and stayed that way. This was a total surprise because the doctor had informed us that this year's fevers were tending to be higher and last longer (7-10days) than in years past. With this knowledge we had put our Christmas and Vacation plans on the "probably not going to happen" list. Thanks to Ethan's miraculously early recovery, we were able to proceed with our plans as originally hoped for. Another pleasant surprise was that Ethan did not develop the post-fever rash which the doctor said was also prevelent this year. Yeah! As suddenly as he had become ill, Ethan was well again! Praise the Lord!
Now on to the Good Times:
On the evening before Christmas Eve, Ethan and I ventured out of the house for the first time in a week. Luke took us to a neighborhood in Clairemont where almost every house on the street was lavishly decorated for the holidays and a couple of the houses were selling hot chocolate and cookies. We splurged and bought some from a soccer? team who was set up in the driveway of one of the houses to raise funds for their upcoming season. Ethan and I shared the cookies while Luke enjoyed the hot chocolate. Ethan, warmly dressed and snuggled in a blanket in our arms, was awwed by the sights on the street and appeared to enjoy every minute of it! On our way back to the car we noticed a two foot tall plastic santa holding a tray full of small boxes standing in the headlight beam of a car parked lengthwise in a driveway and specially decked out for the occasion. The sign attached to the santa's tray read "Please take one per family". Closer inspection of the boxes revealed several small candy dishes and what looked (according to the outside picture) like small metal bell ornaments. Touched by the generosity of the homeowners, we accepted one of the bell boxes as a souvenier of our wonderful night out as a family. To our surprise, when we returned home, we opened the box and found not a small metal bell ornament, but a medium sized porcelain bell with beautiful poinsettias painted on the front! I immediately said to Luke, "Oh good now we have a bell to use when we're sick!" His only response was a sarcastic "Great." lol
This year we celebrated Christmas day with Luke's family at his parents' house. I made a new recipe I'd found for Cranberry Icecream Pie and it was such a hit that I've been requested to make it every Christmas from now on! Ethan had a wonderful time playing with his two aunts, grandparents and great grandparents.
About 3:30 that afternoon we left for our apartment where we unloaded our plunder from Luke's family and reloaded with our gifts for my family along with all the luggage and gear we would need for the following week's trip to Utah for skiing. Arriving at my parent's home sometime around 9pm we inhaled a couple pieces of pizza, fed Ethan, and enjoyed another round of gift giving and receiving. My parents' offered to keep Ethan in their room for the evening to allow Luke and I a good night's sleep to help repair the damages of Ethan's recent sickness. Unfortunately, my mom had to drive the next morning, so when Ethan was still not cooperating an hour later, I retrieved him and took him to the living room couch where we could theoretically sleep without disturbing Dada who had a pounding migraine. Instead, Ethan slept very fitfully on my chest and changed positions about every 10-20minutes throughout the entire night. He capped off the night by overflowing his diaper and peeing through my nightgown onto the only pair of underwear I had not (stupidly) packed in my suitcase which had been promptly burried in the rental trailer upon arrival the evening before. Although Luke kindly retrieved my suitcase while I showered, I think it goes without saying that I was not the perkiest member of the group that morning. It was to be another two days (and another very long night) before we finally discovered the reason for Ethan's general crankiness and restless sleep: His first molar! Merry Christmas! *rolling eyes*
Despite this auspicious start to our skiing vacation, the trip actually turned out pretty great. Luke enjoyed snowboarding- something he hadn't done in years. Ethan hated snow the first day, but changed his mind and loved it the last day. (In between he mostly reaked havoc around the spacious condo and thoroughly enjoyed crawling up and down the stairs to the loft- with a grown up trailing obediently behind.) As for me, my memory of skiing at age 6 proved deceiving. As a 6 year old I'd easily picked up the sport and scared the life out of my mother by flying at breakneck speed down my first real hill so that my father had to speed up to stay with me. I remember not one ounce of fear. Twenty years later with a healthy understanding of what a broken bone feels like and the slow painful recovery and expense it entails, I suddenly found myself completely terrified of going "too fast" - meaning anything more than a turtle's pace so that I could stop instantly without falling. For the full story of my skiing adventure, visit our family blog: www.keepingcurrent.blogspot.com ....trust me, it's worth it! :-D
Okay, now for the Laughing My Rear off Story:
Today, I was working on my laptop in my chair in the living room (gotta love wireless internet!) with Ethan playing with his toys near my feet in front of the entertainment center, when my nose detected something needing attention.
"Ethan come here."
Ethan obediently rises from his squatting position and toddles over to the side of my chair. I take another sniff. Oh yeah. No question.
"Ethan, diaper change." I say. "Let's go. Diaper Change." I motion for him to go around my ottoman and start toward his bedroom.
As I set my laptop down, I watch him obediently follow the route I'd indicated, and notice something VERY wrong!
"Ethan stop." I say firmly, but without any hint that he may be in trouble.
He stops and looks at me curiously as I quickly lean forward and lift him from the armpits, being careful to hold him a foot in front of me. I don't want the poop trailing down his right inner thigh and stuck on his ankle to get anywhere near my clothes.
I carry him down the hall in this fashion and set him on his changing pad. As I reach for a clean diaper I move his wandering right hand away from his diaper area and notice that it is speckled with traces of poo and so, therefore, is my hand. Goody. I look at his mouth and note two spots of poo stuck to his upper lip. Oh no. I quickly wipe as much of the poo from his mouth, hands, leg, and foot as I can with wipees, then strip his diaper off and remove a majority of the poo from that area too. Again holding his beneath his arms, I swiftly carry him across the hall and deposit him in the empty tub.
"Ethan, stay there. Sit. Mama be right back. Sit down. Stay there. Mama be right back." I say this a couple times to ensure that he's caught all my instructions and to watch his face for signs that he has any intent of disobeying. Not seeing any, I grab the phone which had been left in the bathroom and rapidly dial my nurse-on-call (aka mother's) phone number as I head back out into the living room to ascertain in exactly which spot on the carpet he may have been standing when he relieved himself, how many innocent bystanders (aka toys) were splattered/smeared along the way, and exactly how far he trailed his gooey, smelly mess. My mother checks with a coworker who worked in pediatrics and assures me Ethan will suffer no ill effects from eating his own poo and not being able to find more than a handful of dry flakes which must have fallen from his leg, I hang up the phone and return to the bathroom where Ethan grins at me from his still-seated position in the empty tub. (He hadn't moved an inch from where I'd sat him. GOOD BOY!) Now the humor hits me and as I fill the tub in preparation for his bath I grip the side of the tub and laugh hysterically. Ethan grins at me quizzically for a moment and then starts laughing too.
posted by KMD | 3:04 PM
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