Measuring up…or not…

As I sit here munching on a gummy octopus (yes, my child’s candy. I have no self-control whatsoever, and am only slightly embarrassed at this point to admit it) catching up on Dr. Blake mysteries, I can’t help but reflect on my day, or really the last few years  my whole life, if the truth is really to be told (typed? You know what I mean). If your thinking this is going to be a debbie-downer post, you are 100% right, but with a twist, so please let me get it all out and hang on for the cliché light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel-positivity at the end.  Even positive people need a little downer post every now and then, amirite?

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Testing out being a housewife

My son had his third hypospadias surgery done a couple of weeks ago. I think it’s a little on the ridiculous side that he’s had so many but his body just doesn’t respond well to being cut into (and whose body would?). Every time he has gotten this surgery it always gets infected and the infection eats out the stitches which in turn makes the incision come a part which leaves up back to where we were to begin with. Fingers cross, I didn’t see any infection this time, but I did notice the incision is coming back open at the base, go figure. It just looks like a tiny little paper cut at the moment so hopefully it’ll heal itself and this awful mess can all be over. If I had to do it all over again, I would just leave it as it was and not listen to the doctor telling me that it’s perfectly routine and easy.

While he had his stint in, he wasn’t allowed to go to daycare (liability issues and all that good stuff), so I got to stay home a solid week with him! Ladies and gentlemen, Continue reading

Well that’s never good…

I know you are all are saying it silently (or not so silently) to yourself: what the ham is she doing?! Today, I got to do my main job all day long (not on a weekend?! Gasp!). My poor baby has strep. I swear, it seems like he gets every, single thing he comes in contact with. Great for building up that immunity, I know, I know, but it stinks watching him cry himself to sleep after a shot of antibiotics (which he had a mild reaction to and needs to be monitored extra closely. See, everything happens to him!).

So, boiling the pacies must happen. I think this was the hardest part of this illness. Not the no sleeping, not the tantrums from me not understanding that he was hurting, not the part of that awful looking rash that I thought was a heat rash but turned out to be related, it was the boiling of the pacies that I found myself panicking for just a second.

My child is in LOVE with his pacies. It’s the only thing he’s truly attached to, most kids have teddy bears or blankets or some other crazy security, my son’s is his pacie. He’s not satisfied with just one, either. In the car, he has one for his mouth, and then one for each hand, three total (I know all you non-pacie moms are rolling your eyes right about now).

So, when I went to boil his pacies that meant no pacies for at least 30 minutes at home. At school he goes all day without one, but at home he instantly goes to the counter where we have the bowl of pacies and begs for one until we give him one. The moment I took his pacie away the fussing started. He needed his pacie, especially being sick and pitiful, but I persevered and you know what? It wasn’t bad! The instant I put it in the boiling water he kept saying “hot, hot, hot” (that’s his new word–can you tell I tell him that a lot) and knew he didn’t need them!

Just goes to show, the one thing you think you can’t handle, that will be the straw that break the camels back, the one thing you just dread, can be absolutely nothing. That’s my life’s story in a nutshell, I realized as I was boiling pacies (which I discovered he has a ridiculous amount of). I’m always living my life dreading what I think is going to go wrong and that I can’t handle, but I’m wasting my time worrying. The little stuff that I think is mountainous is just pacies boiling on the stove while my little guy decides his dump truck is worth trying to ride , even though it’s the size of his foot.

Have I mentioned I love being a mom?

P.S. Don’t try to boil those teething things you put in the freezer. One will pop and you will have to re-boil your pacies in clean, non-contaminated water :). Luckily, there still were no break downs about not having a pacie.

P.S.S. It took me 5 hours to finally finish this post lol. You know what they say, a mother’s work is never done.

P.S.S.S. I know you were all on the edge of your seats about what was going to come of the pacies. I promise a library post tomorrow 😉