Bread Crumbs In The Butter

So we had the snot, then the croup, now the pneumonia and puke!

I'm gonna have to create an entire category for our family's bodily fluids.  I don't even want to think about what might be next for us.

Wednesday was the girls' Christmas Concert at school. After having two doses of steroids Sunday and Monday, I thought Meghan was fine and recovering from the croup nicely.  I know she didn't want to miss her show. I arrived there (late) to be told by the secretary that she was not feeling well and waiting for me inside.  The lights were all off, so I couldn't see her and had to wait until after the show.  I felt awful knowing she was in there somewhere crying and sick.

When I finally found her she completely broke down. She was feverish and lethargic.  I took her immediately to the ER (again!) and waited two hours to find out that I had sent her to school with an ear infection and pneumonia!  Fuck me I felt like the world's worst parent.

3 days into Zithromax and she seems just fine.

But wait, it gets better for the family!

Yesterday at 4pm I was fine. Yesterday at 5pm, I could barely walk and was laying on the hallway carpet wondering if this was the end.  I spent the next 3 hours puking out every liquid (and solid) in my body and feeling like I was giving birth to an alien.  Seems I ate a bad chicken ceasar salad.  By 9pm I was feeling better and munching on pretzels and ginger ale on the couch while finally watching the finale of "The Apprentice".

If someone has any Christmas Spirit to spare can you send it my way?

Instead of snot, we have croup

Alex is on the mend ... and more! I think he is more excitable and crazy than before he got sick. Bugger.

So then Meghan got sick and because sick Meghan requires alot of attention, I couldn't blog about it and she is now on the mend too. What a ride though. Two ER visits resulting in steroids and masks and lots of scary talk about what to do if she coughs so hard a lung falls out.  We had lots of coughing till she puked, but no lungs.

Flu and cold season rocks!

I removed a link from my sidebar.  It was just a link to the stats page for my s*occer league but there was an incident in our league last week and it was in the papers and on the news.  I got 15 google hits requesting the name of the place we play. Meaning, there is a decent chance someone I know found this blog and it doesn't take long to connect the dots. I play with smart women (see me sucking up?).

I panicked when I saw this. Not that I have any desire to remain perfectly anonymous or secure, but I worry that the more people who know me in real life, the more pressured I will feel.  The IRL people who read this blog know me really well. Some of them for 20 plus years.  I can handle those people comparing Blog Me to Real Life Me. I hope there isn't too much of a difference and I'm really just here to poke fun and make light at what my life has become.

And okay, this is where I might offend some and I know how retarded this is!  I am a complete computer addict. If I could check my email on the toilet I would.  I check my email constantly. I have been known to instant message someone I am talking with on the phone.  I know I'm not alone.  But, does anyone find there is a bit of a stigma for people with our problem?  That we have no lives and nothing better to do? (See how I've quickly included all of you in this? Brilliant on my part.)

Thoughts?

Am I just afraid of being outed as a computer geek who walks around making up blog posts as she goes?

What's with all the snot?

Sick children are dirty filthy creatures!  Mothers with four kids are, by association, also dirty filthy creatures.  Once you've done it all four times, you'll pretty much wipe snot on anything you can get your hands on.

Alex has snot coming out of many of the holes in his face. He wakes up at 4am and of course, can't get to sleep knowing that John and I are sharing a nice warm bed in the other room.

This was the conversation John said he heard last night (yet, note that he did not join in the conversation or let it be known that he was awake at all);

"Okay Buddy. Let's go to sleep now."

"No. Watch Tee-Tee."

"No. Sleep"

"No. Juice."

"Argh" Then he heard me get up and get some juice.

"Okay. Now sleep."

"No. Pee pee!"

"Argh" Then he heard me get up and take him pee.

"Now sleep."

"Otay. Seep with Mammy."

From there we got kicked, poked and coughed on until it was time to get up. 

I tell ya, being a parent is a whole new kind of tired.  You thought you were tired after an all night liquor bender in school? No way man.  You thought you were tired after working late or studying all night? Not even close. Parent Tired is a tired you feel in your bones. It makes you wish you were in jail!  Just for some alone time and a small, quiet room that doesn't need much cleaning. With only one toilet!

Revenge of the Slush Puppie

My poor Alex.  Some nasty intestinal virus got Kristyn and then John over the weekend. No serious symptoms, just alot of cramping and power toilet hugging.  Now Alex has it. He was up every 45 minutes screaming in pain and running to the toilet (rather, I was carrying him FAST).

The first bout hit at about 7:30pm with John saying "Chantal, come here and see this!?"  I looked down into the toilet and his poop was green. Not just green though. Poster paint green. Crayon green. I asked him if he had eaten any crayons and he said no. A look into the box showed in tact green crayons. I racked my brain trying to figure it out when Kristyn had a look and said "Hey, that looks like the Slush Puppie he had today!" 

Ohhhh! See, I had bought Kristyn and Alex slushies at the hospital for Kristyn's appointment with the anesthesiologist.  He had the whole thing, which was about 12 ounces of pure green dye really. So that solved the mystery.

Still, that didn't make the power pooping at 3am seem any less like an alien exiting his poor 2 year old arse. Ouch.

He was a little confused with the concept at first ...

Hold on to your hats people, I am attempting to potty train a boy. He is showing real interest. By that I mean he refuses to wear clothing or diapers.

Friday night after his bath he announced he had to pee. So I grabbed him and not knowing what to do, practically hung him upside down over the toilet to aim the penis toward it.

"Down!" he yelled.

So I put him down. He plopped his penis on the side of the bowl (that got a big "Ewwww" from the girls) and let it rip.

You would swear he had just let the sun shine out of his ass with the fanfare we gave him.  I can't contain how excited I am that diapers will one day be a thing of the past here.  All was well. He would run along all naked and such until we went out, then I would put a prefold and wrap on him.

Yesterday he wanted to master pooping. Only problem is he thought you do that standing up too and he pooped on the bath mat.  We have since bought him a potty and today, while reading "Brown Bear Brown Bear" he had himself a nice morning poop. I wiped. He flushed.

A good time was had by all.

It deserved an entry of it's own anyway...

Sorry for the non-working link in my earlier post, but this really does deserve a post of it's own. Let's see if I have this figured out.

I want to point everyone to a blog I recently found through Moxie. The post I am going to link to is so eloquently written.  She says everything I want to say and so well to boot.

I've discussed the whole "lactivist=Nazi" thing with my friends many times.  Most, if not all of us have been involved with LLL in some form or another and all of us are pro-breastfeeding. We hate that we've been equalled to Nazis or Fascists.

Happy Reading:

The Boob Nazis

You mean at 6 feet tall you're not graceful, Chantal?

Remember when I wrote about redoing the dining room and making it the beautiful showpiece it is now?  I said something about a Little Tikes picnic table that used to sit in it.

It's been moved all over the house. It's been in the way. I keep telling the kids to move it out of the way or I am going to just put it outside.

"But we like to colour on it!" 

For the past few days it's been in the family room.  I've vaccumed around it. I've moved it. I've cursed it.

Last night I turned off the last lamp in the room and turned to go upsatirs.  I fell right over this fucking thing. I'm not kidding. Arse over teakettle!  John heard it and ran downstairs yelling "What the Hell was that!?"

I'm okay, but I want to apologize to anyone in my neighbourhood who heard the crazy lady wielding a picnic table yelling "There! I'm throwing it outside!"

There. That's the fluffiest thing I could come up with on a Monday morning.