Archive for the ‘little hands’ Category

There are some things in this world that, as a mom, is unavoidable. No matter how much you want to you just can’t get around-

  • whining
  • waiting at the doctors
  • paperwork
  • puke
  • poop

That last one has been very popular around here lately.

It all started last month when Amanda had The Bug. You know the one I’m talking about. Puking, sharting, exhaustion, seemingly endless diarrhea, refusal to eat, all followed up with a nice case of acid reflux.  We call it Icky Belly.

I threw out 4 pairs of underwear last month.  It was that bad.

Now yesterday, I put Perry in her crib for a nap. She protested until she fell asleep. Or so I thought.

I kept smelling poop and since Kieran has recently potty trained himself, I thought he had an accident. That poor boy endured my interrogation for a full 5 minutes.

He’ll make a very patient man someday.

Then I heard Perry.

As I approached the bedroom, the smell became stronger.  When I opened the door I was greeted by a butt neked, grinning she-devil. And poop.

Pooplets to be exact.  Perry had smashed what must have been a dry, little poopie and rubbed it all over her mattress and pushed what was left behind her crib.

Lovely.

Later on, we had a visit from Naana. As usual Kieran hid out with his toys. I thought he was improving because he was actually being quiet about it rather than screaming.

He’ll also grow up to be Anthropophobic .

I have to say that I am not the one who made the discovery. To did when he checked on Kieran.  I found out because Tom is not calm when it comes to body function related emergencys.

To save my own sanity, I stepped in.

I was on the poop hunt again. I had to pick up and inspect every toy in the room. That, of course, was  every toy we owned.  I ended up following a pooplet trail from one side of the room to the other.

At least it was easy to clean up.

Tonight was another story.

Amanda, bless her skinny little heart, refuses to get out of bed by herself.  There is not a good enough reason in this world for her to get up with out permission. She tried once and saw a monster in Mommy and Daddy’s room and never tried again. I also never left my bedroom door open during grown up time again.

Tonight that bit us both in the tush.

Amanda called for me and I couldn’t here her. I’ll blame selective hearing. By the time I responded, it happened. Shit, that is.

This was no pooplet.  It was shit all over the inside of her jammies and down her leg.  It didn’t help that Amanda was having a dancing, whining tizzy while I”m trying to clean her up.

Ugh. I hope this is the last poop event for a while.

And just for the record, we are now down 5 pairs of panties and a pair of pink footie pajamas.

4 years ago I was hallucinating. I thought I was in St. Mary’s Hospital in Knoxville,Tennessee. I kept looking at the door, waitign for my aunt to duck waddle into the room. I was going to verbally throw her out on her can. After all that she had done, she had a set of brass ones to walk in right then.

While I was busy waiting for bad blood to rise, Tom did the unthinkable. He walked up, gently touched my hand and informed me he was going to the bathroom. All I could do was nod. I watched as he walked across the room, entered the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Panic set in. tears started to flow. How could he leave me sitting here scared, alone and in pain. I understood that he had to use the potty when he told me but as soon as that door closed , I was convinved that he left me in the hospital. I was sure he was driving home. In my mind, I was abandoned.

Between working 3rd shift, being sent to the hospital most of the day before for tests and then being up all night with a UTI, I was a mess. I called my DR no less than 20 times that morning only to be redirected to the nurses station at the local hospital. The nurse on duty kept telling me that I was fine and my pain was normal. Something told me she was wrong, so I kept calling.

Finally, she asked me why I didn’t just call my DR. She was pretty annoyed at that point but so was I. She didn’t even offer to page him when I told her that was how got to talk to her all night long. All I got was ” He should be in now, keep trying”. Even after I told her I was bleeding.

I *love* small country hospitals.
I finally got in contact with DR. MIA and was seen immediately. He sent me off to the oh so *wonderful* hospital and the *helpful* nurse for a transfer. They couldn’t help me there. At least they knew that much. 
As soon as I was hooked up to the machines, Nurse*Helpful* came in to tell me that what was happing now had nothing to do with the tests I had yesterday. Maybe not, but I told you my pain had moved and became more intense right before you discharged me. You blew me off. Just like my manager blew me off when I said I needed to pee. He left me waiting for an hour and a half each time.
I really should have let them fire me when I got in trouble for using the bathroom too much.
I didn’t care what she said. I just nodded and asked when I was being transfered and when was Tom showing up. I had lost my confidence in her and the hospital. I wanted OUT.
I knew my situation was bad, but just how bad I was unsure of. I did get a small clue when they gave me some drugs for the pain and brought the ambulance stretcher in at the same time. Only 15 minutes had passed since my arrival. I had sat in the same room for 6 hours the day before over a UTI. I was a little sad that I didn’t get to ride in a helicopter but happy to be going to a better hospital. The problem would be taken care of and I would be in my own bed that night.
Tom must have been flying because he walked in as they were wheeling me out. There was an hour between our locations and he covered it in under 20 minutes.
Despite the painkillers, the ride was agony. Paved or not, that was some of the roughest road I had ever been on. All the dips and turns and sinkholes. I was starting to wonder if the nurse had given me a placebo. Don’t ask me why. That was probably the first delusion of many that night.
They did use the siren for me at lights. Yay me!
I get to Big Hospital still relatively calm. There’s that whole delusional thing working again. I’m greeted by a flock of nurses. Competent, well informed, very nice nurses. 
I hope I apologized in advance. I don’t handle pain well. I’m down right nasty. Like “Exorcist” nasty.
They hook me up and get me comfortable. As much as I can be anyway.   Tom, my mom and his mom show up shortly after me. 
I get to see DR. Specialist who runs some tests to see if I need surgery.
We hang out, I try to relieve the pain while waiting for the okay for drugs. I don’t do so well. I can’t have anything until the tests come back. If I need surgery, they’ll have to give me anesthesia and they don’t want any bad reactions to it.
I’m growling and grumpy. I won’t let poor Tom touch me. It hurt too much. They had me lay on my back for a catheter insertion. Have you ever had one of those with out drugs AND with a UTI. It wasn’t on my list of things to do before I die. It shouldn’t be on your either. I almost puked the pain was so bad. I hadn’t eaten in more than 12 hours so it wouldn’t have produced much anyway.
DR. Specialist comes back and tells me that I don’t need surgery. Yay! Unfortunately the situation had progress too far for me to go home. He also tells me that I can have what ever drugs I want as soon as the anesthesiologist is done with a c-section. Yay! In an hour. Damn!
Time passes, the moms go home with promises to come back first thing, Tom passes out in a chair.
More time passes. I have long since convinced myself that I was in TN and Tom left me.The pain is so intense I can’t sit still and I am using some colorful language. I really hope I apologized at some point. My body keeps trying to fall asleep or pass out, I can’t tell. All I knew was that I was staring at the clock and suddenly two minutes had passed.
Almost 3 hours after the Dr’s okay, my hero walks in. The rockstar of the medical world. 
The Anesthesiologist!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sweet relief!!!! I don’t care how much he gets paid, it’s not enough.
I actually let Tom touch me again, then I am out like a light before  the staff can leave the room. I don’t care how tired you are, there is no way to sleep soundly when people keep poking at you and asking what your pain level is. I didn’t care. I felt no pain and that was my only goal.
Well, it was until something had changed. I woke Tom up and sent him for a nurse because I was too groggy to find the call button. There was a flurry of activity. Every one moved so quick, It was like watching a movie in time lapse. I felt weird being the only one not doing something. I really didn’t have a choice at that point.
After 12 minutes I got this….. 
Due to a UTI, Amanda was born 6 weeks premature on 5/26/2006.
Even through all of that, when I think of her birth, the first thing I think of is turning to Tom, who was all up in my shit to watch,  and saying 
“Holy Shit! I just gave birth!”. 
Happy 4th Birthday Amanda!