Posts Tagged ‘The Sickness’

The Bright Side of Puking

Wednesday, February 3rd, 2010

Tiller’s got the pukes. It all started Sunday before last, with Rollie having no appetite. Any parent worth their salt knows that when a kid has no appetite for something that they usually scarf down, then you will be dealing with puke within 24 hours. It is a law of nature.

Rollie was out of school five days last week. He had only one puke incident, but then had a fever for six days straight. He felt better on Friday (just in time for the weekend!). Tiller fell sick on Sunday night. Same thing. No appetite, fever, a little puke. Both kids also have a cough with this thing.

This sounds crazy, but I kind of like it when my kids are sick. No, i hate to see them scared or puking, and I hate the getting up two or three times a night to soothe them, and clean puke and change sheets, or to lie awake listening to them cough and worry about pneumonia or freak bacterial infections. Not that part.

But when they are sick, I am reminded how very much I love them, and how I couldn’t bear it if something happened to one of them. I am reminded that I am lucky that they are so healthy. Now that they are older, they don’t want to sit in my lap as often, or snuggle on the couch. I am chopped liver. But when they are sick? They want me, need me, even.

I am reminded of one time when Rollie was sick. He was about 18 months or two years, probably. He came into the kitchen where Todd and i were standing, and he looked just pitiful, and then he started throwing up. He had that panicky look that little kids get when they are vomiting. They don’t understand what is happening to them, and they feel like they are choking, and their eyes are begging you to fix it. Todd grabbed a towel, while I got down on my knees and pulled Rollie into my lap. His little fists were clinging to me, and he was puking all over the both of us, and the whole time it was happening, all i could think of was that there was not another person on earth whom I would let sit on my lap and puke all over me.

I was thinking, There is nothing that I wouldn’t do for you. Nothing.

I Never Win Anything!

Friday, November 14th, 2008

But this morning, right there in my inbox, was a notification that I won a copy of this pre-release book. I love the site Goodreads and they have this nifty FirstReads give-away. Basically, you sign up to win pre-release copies from publishers. If you win, they send you a copy of the book and they request that you post a review on Goodreads. How cool is that?

So, NaNoWriMo is going well. I am at over 22,000 words. Almost halfway there and right on schedule. It has almost worked out well that I have been sick for over three weeks. More reason to sit around and write. The impact on my running has not been that great. Think wheezing on hills and coughing up massive amounts of green phlegm, but I’m still running on Thanksgiving, even if I am not at a hundred percent. I missed over a week of workouts, so i doubt it will make that much of a difference in my physical ability to run the half, but it definitely has affected my mental game. Confidence level is not high. Link

Still Chugging Along

Friday, November 7th, 2008

So, keeping up with my NaNoWriMo goals is definitely impacting my blogging. (Although it does not seem to have made any impact on my Facebooking.) But i am totally caught up on my word count so far, at day 6 of November. Yay me!

Even if I weren’t to write another lick the rest of the month, the progress I have made in just six days is astounding to me. I never knew I could crank out the writing like this! It has been very fun, and very inspiring, and I am so glad i took it on.

My running, on the other hand, is kind of slack this week. I have had the coughing, post-nasal drip thing for three weeks straight, and then last night i puked up dinner out of nowhere. Not sure what was up with that, but felt like doody this morning and have had an upset stomach all afternoon. I am not sure what the deal is with kids, but they are little Typhoid Marys, and you should not allow one in your house. Ever. Think zombies. It is horrible.

Anyway, sickness is good for writing, not so good for the mileage. Oh well.

Oooh, and we are going camping this weekend if all are healthy. I am very excited. I need me some nature.

Wow. Warner. Makes Me a Little Wacky.

Saturday, April 21st, 2007

First of all, Mom seems to be doing pretty well. Visited her in the hospital (hospy, to family in the know) and she seems better than before. Still hoping they will keep her a while longer, as she is precious cargo, and I would be afraid that Dad and I would screw things up here at the house.

2nd of all, if my father ever says he got “really good movies” at the video store, you should be scared. That usually means that you are going to be watching Iron Eagle II. Mom and Dad have a tendency to bring home the same movie over and over, not remembering that a)it wasn’t that good the first time around, and b)they already saw it. Ask them how many times they have rented the movie where Michelle Pfeiffer is dead and comes back to life (or something? have not seen it.) Anyway, the answer is “tons.”

That being said, I almost keeled over when the movies Dad picked turned out to be Last King of Scotland and Borat. Unfortunately for Dad, he wasn’t too jazzed about LKOS until people started bleeding a lot, and unfortunately for me, that meant he talked a lot during the first half. Dad doesn’t do dialogue. He does however like to namecheck the movie Manhattan, referring to it as a “social commentary,” even though I don’t think he knows what that means, or if he has even ever watched the whole movie. I also think that if he knew it was directed by that Commie Woody Allen, he wouldn’t talk about it so much.

All of the above two paragraphs are so not the point of this post. The point is: OMG. Forrest Whitaker is really good, and really scary as Idi Amin. I am also a little surprised that the lead kid wasn’t nominated. I thought he was actually really good, and you never heard that much about his performance.

Also feeling some Darfur guilt after watching it. Like, yeah, this happened in the not-so-distant past in Uganda, but here I am sitting and watching a movie while similar shit is still happening.

Must go drink another glass of wine. Do not be jealous, as it is Cecil Wine. That means that he opened a bottle like six months ago, stuck the stopper back in, and tells visitors that it is “perfectly good.” Note to Palmer guests: It is wise to bring a “hostess’ gift” of whatever it is you like to drink.

p.s. Love and kisses and hugs to all of you that have called and emailed and checked in on us. We love our Mama. Glad you do too.

Things We Should Have Learned By Adulthood

Saturday, March 10th, 2007

I went to the gym Thursday. I didn’t want to, because I have this stinking sinus cold thing, where my head hurts, and my snot is a nice, thick, brown-green, and when I turn over in the bed at night, I feel the air pressure in my sinuses changing and it makes a popping noise that keeps me awake. So, I took medicine, that day-time cold medicine, that doesn’t really make you feel better, it just makes you feel different in an “Is my head vibrating?” kind of way. Anyway, I wasn’t really in the mood for it, but I hadn’t been all week for the same reason, and I wasn’t dying or anything, so I went and I walked two miles. I had to walk two miles, even though I forgot my IPod, and exercising sucks when I don’t have music. When I found out I didn’t have my IPod, i thought about just grabbing the kids out of the nursery, packing them back in the car, and going right back home.

I didn’t do that, though, because when I brought the kids into the nursery in the first place, the same Goddamned well-meaning nursery worker who said it the last time after I had Rollie, and not right afterwards either, said to me:

“How are you and the baby doing?” she says.

I stare at her. I look at Rollie, then at Matilda, who is quite obviously a toddler now. I look blankly back at her. Then I realize.

“I’m not pregnant.” You fucking dumbass whore.

So, even though I didn’t feel like working out at all, and much less after her thoughtless blow to my self-esteem, I got my [fat to the point of looking pregnant] ass on the treadmill.

The moral of this story, in case you somehow don’t know this one, is the following:


One simple rule that will serve you well.

Go Me

Tuesday, February 27th, 2007

I haven’t been running much lately. Up until last week, one or both of the kids had been sick every week since Thanksgiving, which has been fucking awesome, thanks for asking. Anyway, I didn’t make it to the gym much, because it pisses me off when other people bring their sick kids to the gym and to school, (and don’t even get me started on assholes bringing their sick kids into the well-visit waiting room at the Pediatrician’s office) so why should I stoop to their level?

Anyway, that just meant that I didn’t quite get much exercise in the last three months. Pretty pitiful, actually, but I made a promise to myself that since we are all better, we will be making it back to the gym regularly. So, today, I only ran 2.5 miles and it sucked. Why does it have to be so sucky to get back into the swing of exercise?

That being said, I have felt great today mentally, and I know it is the exercise. I know it is good for me, that it is good for my mind, and that it makes me a much better parent, wife, and all-around person.

So, i am back on the wagon. Go me.

I Still Want My Mommy

Tuesday, February 13th, 2007

In case you don’t know, or don’t read Dogwood Girl regularly, parenting is hard as fuck. The hardest part, by far, is the worry in the back of your mind that something might happen to one of your children. It is constant. It never goes away. One can imagine losing a parent, sibling, or spouse. Losing a child is unimaginable. There is a saying, and I’m not sure to whom it is attributed, that having a child is forever having your heart walk around outside your body. You are helpless in protecting it. I can imagine no more frightening exercise in letting go of one’s fear than seeing a child walk away from you for the first time, or seeing a child drive away alone in a car.

The second hardest part is the sheer relentlessness of the physical requirements of caring for a child. You can schedule it to death, but the unscheduled will occur, and you will have to take care of it, right then and there. You can plan to write for an hour while the children watch Sesame Street, but they will make countless requests for snacks, diaper changes, channel changes, outfit changes, toy dispute reconciliations, and the occasional refereeing of to-the-death grudge matches. Having children means that things that usually take one minute will take ten. Things that take an hour will take at least two hours. It is a job that starts around 7a.m., but might start at 5:30 a.m. some mornings. (No advance notice is given if that is the case, but you can rest assured that if you stay out dancing with the girls until 5:30 a.m. the night before, that your son will wake up at 5:30 the next morning.) You do not get a breakfast, lunch or dinner break. You do not get an anything break. You are lucky if you get to take a shit by yourself, or if you do not have to cut that short to make sure that after you heard that shattering glass noise your child is not now eating glass. You are lucky if you get to wipe before getting up from the toilet. I have actually stood up from the toilet and not had the time to pull up my pants before rushing out of the bathroom to check on the latest catastrophe, my pants still around my ankles. The day usually ends at 7:30 or eight for us, but if someone is sick, or teething, or scared, or cold, or wets the bed, then you might have wakeup calls at any hour of the evening. And you still might have to get up at 5:30 a.m. the next day. So, you have anywhere from 12 to 14 hour days, with no breaks, and with being on call 24 hours a day. And weekends. In a good, healthy, sane week, you might work about 85 hours. Unpaid, but for the satisfaction of a snuggle here or a kiss or hug there. There is also the laughter. Kids say some damn funny stuff, and you have to appreciate that the laughter is part of the payoff, or you would be left with nothing.

And here is what to me is the next hardest part of parenting: Being sick while you are a parent. It sucks the biggest cock EVER.

It started Friday. Rollie was being a total shit, and even had to be taken out of the restaurant at dinner for his behavior. I should have known what was up, because he wouldn’t eat anything at dinner, including french fries, which is Mommy 101 for “You are going to be up all night with a puking kid.” Sure enough, we put the kids down Friday night at the Lakehouse, where we were staying because we were having the downstairs walls in our house painted. Now, the heat died this fall at the Lakehouse, so it is heated by only gas logs, but if you dress like lumberjacks and keep the logs on all the time, and sleep in two or three quilts at night, you are okay. It is not, however, conducive to being a sickhouse, where one has to get up out of bed multiple times in a night to clean up pukey kids, change puked-on sheets, and make up clean beds. Todd shivered the night away on the couch next to a drafty window, while I slept in his bed, and got up with Tiller who awoke crying multiple times. We made it through the night, thought maybe Rollie had just had too much chocolate milk at dinner, then he puked up his breakfast. Did I mention that the Lake has a washer, but no dryer? We dry the clothes on the line outside. It was about 30 degrees and cloudy. Time to go home. Todd packed up Rollie, while I cleaned up at the house with the help of my Dad, then followed with the still-healthy Tiller.

We came back to the house, and unpacked everything, starting to do laundry, while William, our painter, finished up painting downstairs. Todd and I, in our great wisdom, do not have a television in our bedroom. We feel it promotes a healthy marriage, where we talk or read before going to bed, rather than flipping through channels, or one of us watching something downstairs, while the other watches t.v. in bed.

We are idiots. It is pure hell to be stuck in a sickroom with two puking kids, and NO TELEVISION. Pure. Hell. Yep, Tiller went down for a nap at about 2 pm and woke up screaming bloody murder five minutes later. Covered in puke. I almost threw out her pitiful Hello Kitty doll, the one where kitty is wearing a Jackie-O pillbox hat, and carrying a cute pocketbook, and has a poodle on a leash. Very cute. Doesn’t machine wash. (Note to non-parents: Gifts that do not machine-wash end up in the trash.)

Diarrhea began not long after that. That was Saturday. No more puke out of either of them, but diarrhea continued through Sunday at 5 pm, when I started puking.

You know when you are really sick? I mean uncontrollable puking until the dry heaves hit, and you are still nauseated, when you start throwing up bile and possibly cracking ribs in the process? That’s when the diarrhea hits, and there is a lovely crossover period where you are sick from both ends, and you wish that your toilet was withing puking distance of your bathtub, so that you could do both at once. Then the vomiting subsides and you are left with an emptying diarrhea that lasts for hours and you shiver and are cold and you break out in a cold sweat and then the covers are too much, but it doesn’t matter because you can’t lie in bed for more than five minutes before having to rush back into the bathroom, and you are spent and so dehydrated and thirsty, but you are scared to drink anything, because every time something enters your mouth, it comes directly back out the other end.

Most of all, you want your Mommy, and unfortunately, you are the mommy.

Now imagine being that sick, and having two kids who are also sick. To give credit where credit is due, my dear husband took care of me and the kids while we were all sick this weekend, but just the guilt alone of being sick and not feeling like taking care of the little ones when they are sick is terrible. I was sick all night Sunday. I was weak and spent all day yesterday. The other bad part of being a sick family is when you are the non-sick one: All chores fell on Todd Sunday night and all day Monday. Not only are you responsible for puke and diarrhea cleanup, but you are responsible for planning and preparing meals (a land mine field of menu planning that dictates what kind of puke and diarrhea you will be cleaning up in the coming hours), laundry detail, and the gnawing fear that you have a toilet with your name on it in the future.

I started feeling better yesterday afternoon, but I was still weak and tired and unable to eat much. The kids seemed to be feeling better, but everyone was kind of laying around. Todd fixed dinner and Tiller puked it up. Both kids had more diarrhea after dinner. They had baths and went to bed. I made it till about 9 and then hit the hay myself, hoping to get a decent night’s sleep and recoup some energy. Tiller puked at 10, awakening with a cry. It is hard to describe how pitiful kids are when they puke in their beds: They wake up scared and in the dark and covered in their own sick. It is also hard to describe the sinking feeling you get as a parent when your kids wake up sick. Let’s just say that when I heard Todd utter “crap” upon checking on Tiller, I knew what had happened. She woke up puking again at 11. Luckily, she slept through the rest of the night uneventfully, because we only had one clean sheet left for her crib. Rollie crawled into bed with us at 6:30 a.m. All in all, a fairly decent night’s sleep.

This morning? Both kids have had breakfast and still no puke or cha-chas. (My sister and I call diarrhea “cha-chas”. We got it from Beavis and Butthead – they ridiculed their friend Daria by singing “Diarrhea Cha Cha Cha,” and it stuck with us. It makes something terrible sound so much cuter, no?)

Anyway, wish us luck. Todd is still healthy. I think i am feeling better. Tiller is asleep on my lap, as I type this w1H.

But I still want my Mommy.

Same Old Same Old

Tuesday, February 6th, 2007

Rollie came down with another ear infection last night. That makes, oh, the 4th or 5th one he has had since Thanksgiving. Poor little guy is piled up on the couch watching Cars and saying, “I’m a little bit sick,” every five minutes.

Tiller woke up this morning walking! Last night when I left the house, she was still in carry me or I cry until you want to blow your brains out mode. Then, today, she just started walking. Not two or three steps like the last month or so, but circles around the kitchen, through the dining room, and back into the kitchen.

I am a little scared, as she likes attention, and now she can actually chase us down. Lucky for us, she doesn’t come close to Dwight Shrute’s 2/3 scale rule.