Posts Tagged ‘ New Year’s resolution ’

My Kids’ Health Crisis, Part 1 = My Resolution Crisis

Tuesday, January 21st, 2014

Remind me to never make a New Year’s resolution for as long as I have kids under the age of 18. My resolutions were reasonable and tangible. For 5 minutes. At the top of my list: getting back on the blog. Posting at least twice a week. Followed by running 2 times a week and doing yoga at least once a week.

Then came the proverbial thunderstorm that sucked me into its vortex as it wreaked havoc on my week. Here is part 1 of my war story.*

Wednesday at 3 a.m.: Em coughs to the point of barfing. Fia wakes up complaining of something in her throat.

Em eventually falls back asleep, propped up in crib, humidifier at full speed, slathered in Vicks Vapor Rub, particularly on his feet (click here for more on this cough tip).

For Fia, I see a white “thing” almost like a skin tag on her tonsil. I give her Motrin.

Wednesday 9 a.m.: Em is doing awful. He can barely breathe because the cough is relentless. Fia is saying it’s hard to swallow. I rush both kids to the doctor. Em is diagnosed with full-blown pneumonia. They give him a hospital-grade antibiotic shot in the butt to try and avert an emergency room visit. I guess this is a super painful shot, and he screams bloody murder as big fat tears roll down his face. Fia can’t wait to tell everyone about this. She is almost giddy.

Meanwhile, she is diagnosed with a “tonsil stone“…which is when debris of food and bacteria build up on your tonsil, causing a hardened, white, almost scab-like spot. The doc doesn’t think it’s hardened yet though and is able to put a long Q-tip in her throat and knock it off. Or so he thinks. Problem solved. 

Wednesday 4 pm: Fia spikes a 105.5 fever. I’m suspect that the stone wasn’t the only issue.  Problem not solved. I give her Motrin, she seems fine and I am so preoccupied with Em, I don’t call the doctor. Em just wants to cuddle and sleep. For once the world’s most active (almost) 2-year old boy is passive.

Wednesday 11 pm: Em’s fever is 103 (love my thermometer because I don’t have to touch him to take his temp) and he is panting in his sleep at a rate of 70 breaths per minute. I speak to the on-call doctor. She said if we can give him Motrin and get his fever down, his breathing should slow to 30-35 bpm. If not, then we have to get him to the ER for oxygen.

Emmett is the worst child with taking medicine. Even at the doctor’s office the nurse gave up on helping me with Motrin when he barfed all over her. He is so stubborn, and he gargles it at the back of his throat until he pukes. But Phil and I had to get it down. So we get him up and pinch his cheeks so his mouth is open and the cheeks are between his teeth. That way the nurse said he can’t bite down because he’ll bite his cheeks. I get 1/5th of a dose in before he projectile vomits on us both. Fia is awake now screaming with a 104 fever.

I get Emmett in a cool bath, then try again once he’s dried off and a little calmer. I manage to get down about half a dosage. I decided not to push my luck, because I’d rather him have a little bit than barf all of it up.

Phil is with Motrin-medicated Fia, whose fever is down again. I’m with Emmett, waiting for him to fall asleep so I can count his breaths. 30 minutes later he is panting, but at a rate of 35-40 breaths per minute. I put him back in his crib and go to sleep on the spare bed.

It’s only been 20 hours since this all began…and that was just the beginning of my perfect shit-storm. And the end to my New Year’s resolutions. I’ll post the rest tomorrow.

*I realize in the grand-scheme of things, this is just a bad day/week. We are not battling a chronic illness or worse. But I like to put it all out there in case anyone else has experienced these same conditions or others. It’s parenting in the trenches. Thankfully I don’t have to do it often. Tell me your tips/stories.  It feels good to write it all down.

 

Yoga pose via Shutterstock

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My Embarrassing New Year’s Confession

Wednesday, January 2nd, 2013

Cynthia Roelle, mom to a 2-year-old daughter and award-winning photographer, shares a New Year’s confession … about her underwear! Read Cynthia’s guest blog every other Wednesday.

Screw the resolution, this year I thought I’d start off with a New Year’s confession. My underwear is 50 shades of gray. I’m not talking S&M or anything remotely approaching the realm of erotica. I’m talking about the saddest assortment of shabby panties you’ve ever seen (or could imagine).

Like any woman I’ve always had my A and B sets of underwear. The former was reserved for special occasions; the latter for everyday wear. They were all quite attractive and not a pair in the drawer was gray.

But over the years (yes, years) my once-pretty panties have practically disintegrated. Every last pair has become stretched and faded and frayed. I’ve literally worn them to dull, shapeless shreds of material.

The situation reached this drab state because I couldn’t bring myself to buy bigger underpants. Granny panties, blech.

Just when I thought my underwear situation couldn’t get any worse, I started losing weight. As it turns out, elastic doesn’t zip back into shape after you’ve stretched it beyond all reason for three years. Add saggy and baggy to 50 shades of gray and you don’t get a pretty picture.

At long last, I decided it was time to spring for new underpants. Undies with springy, fully-functioning elastic. After all, I’m down 20+ pounds (a Christmas miracle!) and I’m thrilled about it.

So, I’m starting 2013 with only a few pounds left to lose and a drawer full of pretty, new undies. We’re not talking Victoria’s Secret here but still, they’re nice. I’m so happy.

I didn’t want to offend anyone with a picture of my underwear (old or new) so instead I included a picture from New Years Eve—first night out with my new underwear! (and a new dress to boot!)

What’s your New Year’s confession?

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