... And, we're back
Back, after a brief (but traumatic) hiatus due to brain tumor, by the demand of my pregnant sisters (one of whom lives less than 10 miles from our house and nannies for Little B), is the weeberts blog…
What can I say? It’s hard to start writing after a hiatus. Also, when your entire world is picked up and shaken like a doggie chew toy, it’s hard to know really where to begin. So, I guess, we’ll start with today. At least it is fresh in my mind.
Big A (since he’s now 5, I guess he can be “Big”) has a heck of a cold. He is coughing like mad, and is actually having these “spells” where he’s having a hard time breathing he’s coughing so hard that he can hardly breathe. Well, he wanted to go to school, so off he went (he felt, he said, *fine* (with the distain only a five year old can muster to protect himself against an over-protective mother)). Little B’s new nanny, Erica, started today. She was great with Little B. He started out a little fussy, but really warmed up to her. I’m not surprised that she won him over, but I was pleasantly surprised as to how quickly it happened. I set up an appointment for Big A with his pediatrician’s office, just to be sure we weren’t dealing with pneumonia or something of that sort. Little B took a great nap, and was pretty happy when he woke up. I worked and attended meetings, which was always fun.
Little B and I picked up Big A in our new (to us) van – a red 2008 Kia Sedona (her name: Rona!). It is a fair improvement on our prior van, which was getting a little rough around the edges. We actually bought the van yesterday, so it was a bit of an adventure to figure out all of the new features and whatnot (again with the fair improvement over the prior van). It is really nice that the van has heaters for the back seat, as the Portland metro area is bracing for snow and unseasonably chilly weather in the next 24 hours or so.
In any case, the pediatrician’s visit confirms what we all know: Big A is a tough kid. He has a bad ear infection (why won’t he tell me when he has an earache?!?!), and obviously a bad cough. The cough is not pneumonia, which is good. In any case, we ended up in the pharmacy with two prescriptions for Big A…
Which brings our story to Little B. The kid had a brain tumor the size of a golf ball removed less than a month ago, and he’s doing great. His vocabulary has just exploded. He is a remarkably communicative, and just a busy little kid. The incision is healing great, and he doesn’t seem to have any lingering effects of the surgery in terms of physical limitations. He’s a bit weak in terms of stair climbing, but he really didn’t move much for the two weeks following the surgery. Little B is definitely a bit nervous when the four of us aren’t together – his separation anxiety skyrocketed after leaving the hospital. He’s also very, very much a Daddy’s boy – ok, maybe even a little obsessed with G. Unfortunately, Little B is still vomiting about five times per day. We have been told that this might be a post-operation complication that will last for a while. We’re certainly hoping not! Because if nothing else, the laundry is KILLING us. He’s also losing weight, which is bad. In any case, we’re trying a new medicine in the morning, so hopefully that will help us out.
In any case, so there I am with Big A and Little B, standing in the pharmacy. To set the stage, Little B is on a full-time formula pump, which is housed in a backpack (with a tube to his feeding tube), so he can’t be more than three feet away from me at any time). I have a diaper bag the size of Rhode Island flopping about, and a Starbucks soy-milk-steamer-with-honey-and-cinnamon for Big A (half consumed) that I am demanding he drink (honey is allegedly a natural cough suppressant, but it is likely just something people say so that you can try it and have it fail). Then the boys decide that it is time for a smack down. Little B starts taking meds off the shelves. Big A is reading a “Rad VW” magazine (Really? Seriously? Oh, yes.) and wants to “have a discussion about the names of the parts.” Yeah, um. Right. Then Big A has to go potty. Now. Right now. Off we go, with Little B yowling and carrying a package of vitamins and a box of laxatives… Whew, made it just in time. Back to the pharmacy waiting room. And the VW parts magazine. And the shelves of drugs. Finally! Our number is called. The pharmacist wants to talk to us to train me on how to use a syringe. (Seriously, my kid had a brain tumor. Is fed by an NG tube. We know syringes. Really.) Little B is shrieking “Keys-Keys-Keys” at the top of his lungs, and hitting Big A with his fist. Big A is trying to drink his steamer, and wailing that Little B is hitting him. To distract Little B, I give him my wallet, which in retrospect was a big freaking mistake. Out go my credit cards, and they get flung hither and yon. The pharmacist is just giggling at this point because Little B is giving her the credit cards. I finally get everything picked up when Big A drops the rest of the steamer. There wasn’t much left, but well, there wasn’t much left of my patience, either. So the pharmacist (who still has one of my credit cards), just scoops everything up into a bag, gives me a receipt, and lets me sign my name with a half-hearted squiggle. I basically bolted out of the pharmacy in shame, with Big A railing against the loss of his steamer, Little B still shrieking for the keys, and the diaper bag, pharmacy bag, and feeding pump bag trailing behind.
You get the picture, right? The day, not so pretty. The effort has been valiant, but results are a bit iffy. We’re hoping for an eventual rally. Well, here’s hoping!
I did have one small victory over Big A that I will share: Big A got some heavy-duty cough medicine so that he could get some sleep. Well, unfortunately, it tastes like dirty socks. Really, really dirty socks. So he took about 0.25 mls and immediately started spitting and flipping out. In any case, the cough medicine was not going into his mouth if he had anything to do with it. Well, as a mom who knows when she has been beat, I figured maybe we should make some hot cocoa to see if that would help Big A sleep. Happily enough, Big A was so very delighted that he got hot cocoa that he didn’t notice when I dosed the cocoa with the cough medicine… And thank you very much, he’s sleeping quite well. Here’s hoping that G and I get to as well.
Oh, and Little B is teething. Again.
What can I say? It’s hard to start writing after a hiatus. Also, when your entire world is picked up and shaken like a doggie chew toy, it’s hard to know really where to begin. So, I guess, we’ll start with today. At least it is fresh in my mind.
Big A (since he’s now 5, I guess he can be “Big”) has a heck of a cold. He is coughing like mad, and is actually having these “spells” where he’s having a hard time breathing he’s coughing so hard that he can hardly breathe. Well, he wanted to go to school, so off he went (he felt, he said, *fine* (with the distain only a five year old can muster to protect himself against an over-protective mother)). Little B’s new nanny, Erica, started today. She was great with Little B. He started out a little fussy, but really warmed up to her. I’m not surprised that she won him over, but I was pleasantly surprised as to how quickly it happened. I set up an appointment for Big A with his pediatrician’s office, just to be sure we weren’t dealing with pneumonia or something of that sort. Little B took a great nap, and was pretty happy when he woke up. I worked and attended meetings, which was always fun.
Little B and I picked up Big A in our new (to us) van – a red 2008 Kia Sedona (her name: Rona!). It is a fair improvement on our prior van, which was getting a little rough around the edges. We actually bought the van yesterday, so it was a bit of an adventure to figure out all of the new features and whatnot (again with the fair improvement over the prior van). It is really nice that the van has heaters for the back seat, as the Portland metro area is bracing for snow and unseasonably chilly weather in the next 24 hours or so.
In any case, the pediatrician’s visit confirms what we all know: Big A is a tough kid. He has a bad ear infection (why won’t he tell me when he has an earache?!?!), and obviously a bad cough. The cough is not pneumonia, which is good. In any case, we ended up in the pharmacy with two prescriptions for Big A…
Which brings our story to Little B. The kid had a brain tumor the size of a golf ball removed less than a month ago, and he’s doing great. His vocabulary has just exploded. He is a remarkably communicative, and just a busy little kid. The incision is healing great, and he doesn’t seem to have any lingering effects of the surgery in terms of physical limitations. He’s a bit weak in terms of stair climbing, but he really didn’t move much for the two weeks following the surgery. Little B is definitely a bit nervous when the four of us aren’t together – his separation anxiety skyrocketed after leaving the hospital. He’s also very, very much a Daddy’s boy – ok, maybe even a little obsessed with G. Unfortunately, Little B is still vomiting about five times per day. We have been told that this might be a post-operation complication that will last for a while. We’re certainly hoping not! Because if nothing else, the laundry is KILLING us. He’s also losing weight, which is bad. In any case, we’re trying a new medicine in the morning, so hopefully that will help us out.
In any case, so there I am with Big A and Little B, standing in the pharmacy. To set the stage, Little B is on a full-time formula pump, which is housed in a backpack (with a tube to his feeding tube), so he can’t be more than three feet away from me at any time). I have a diaper bag the size of Rhode Island flopping about, and a Starbucks soy-milk-steamer-with-honey-and-cinnamon for Big A (half consumed) that I am demanding he drink (honey is allegedly a natural cough suppressant, but it is likely just something people say so that you can try it and have it fail). Then the boys decide that it is time for a smack down. Little B starts taking meds off the shelves. Big A is reading a “Rad VW” magazine (Really? Seriously? Oh, yes.) and wants to “have a discussion about the names of the parts.” Yeah, um. Right. Then Big A has to go potty. Now. Right now. Off we go, with Little B yowling and carrying a package of vitamins and a box of laxatives… Whew, made it just in time. Back to the pharmacy waiting room. And the VW parts magazine. And the shelves of drugs. Finally! Our number is called. The pharmacist wants to talk to us to train me on how to use a syringe. (Seriously, my kid had a brain tumor. Is fed by an NG tube. We know syringes. Really.) Little B is shrieking “Keys-Keys-Keys” at the top of his lungs, and hitting Big A with his fist. Big A is trying to drink his steamer, and wailing that Little B is hitting him. To distract Little B, I give him my wallet, which in retrospect was a big freaking mistake. Out go my credit cards, and they get flung hither and yon. The pharmacist is just giggling at this point because Little B is giving her the credit cards. I finally get everything picked up when Big A drops the rest of the steamer. There wasn’t much left, but well, there wasn’t much left of my patience, either. So the pharmacist (who still has one of my credit cards), just scoops everything up into a bag, gives me a receipt, and lets me sign my name with a half-hearted squiggle. I basically bolted out of the pharmacy in shame, with Big A railing against the loss of his steamer, Little B still shrieking for the keys, and the diaper bag, pharmacy bag, and feeding pump bag trailing behind.
You get the picture, right? The day, not so pretty. The effort has been valiant, but results are a bit iffy. We’re hoping for an eventual rally. Well, here’s hoping!
I did have one small victory over Big A that I will share: Big A got some heavy-duty cough medicine so that he could get some sleep. Well, unfortunately, it tastes like dirty socks. Really, really dirty socks. So he took about 0.25 mls and immediately started spitting and flipping out. In any case, the cough medicine was not going into his mouth if he had anything to do with it. Well, as a mom who knows when she has been beat, I figured maybe we should make some hot cocoa to see if that would help Big A sleep. Happily enough, Big A was so very delighted that he got hot cocoa that he didn’t notice when I dosed the cocoa with the cough medicine… And thank you very much, he’s sleeping quite well. Here’s hoping that G and I get to as well.
Oh, and Little B is teething. Again.
Thank you, thank you, thank you for sharing your daily happenings again...your perspective on your life is priceless. I love reading about your adventures with the boys, especially because you were the sister that wasn't going to have kids.
ReplyDeleteOh, you need to update your blog profile picture, if you need some pics to choose from just ask Heather.
ReplyDeleteSounds like one of my days.....when mine were 2 and 4.....Things will get easier Missy - hang in there : )
ReplyDelete