and then the rain came.

I went to bed Sunday night thinking what a wonderful weekend it had been.  Gobbles was back to himself and then some, eating like a machine and playing and laughing like never before.  A cousin had her first baby, a beautiful little girl who we cannot wait to meet.  Friends of ours who have been together forever got engaged, and we were thrilled by the happy journey on which they're to embark.

And then the rain came.

Phone calls before the sun is up on Monday morning never bring good news.  Eleven months and six days after his lovely bride Babe passed, my grandpop, Mickey, decided it was time to join her.  The past year has been a series of ups and downs healthwise, and recently Grandpop was showing signs that he was ready.  He missed my Grandmom dearly and since her passing has spoken often of the times they've talked while he was sleeping. 
Despite his waning health, Mick still had moments of mental sharpness to the end.  On Sunday when we visited, after telling us what a good family he raised, how we're all good kids, he talked about now it's even with twenty, ten and ten.  He was referring to my cousin's new baby girl, number 19 of the great- grandchildren, who will soon be joined by her sister's baby girl, due in six weeks, making 20.  Part of me feels like Grandpop just held on this week in order to be able to deliver accurate news of their legacy to Grandmom, as the gender of this new baby was a surprise.  My Grandpop was a man who was always very meticulous about numbers and details. 

He had to be meticulous in order to provide for his eleven children.  Long after they had moved out of the house, he was still working on stretching his money in odd ways.  My grandparents' basement would be a stockroom of toilet paper and salad dressing, because if there was a buy one get one sale, the local acme was the place to find Mick.  He would even bypass the "limit two" restriction by repeatedly purchasing his items, bringing them to his car, and returning to the store to buy more.  I remember another creative way he'd make money after retirement was duping the credit card companies.  He would max out cash from zero percent cards, invest the cash in a high interest account, earn interest, and take the money back out to pay the credit card bills upon their due date.  So basically he was gaining interest off of someone else's money.  A lot of effort for probably not that much money, but it gave the old man something to do, and more importantly it made him proud.  He would always talk of these schemes with a glint in his eye knowing he was beating the system somehow.

When he wasn't yelling at someone to turn the thermostat down, or yelling at his kids about parking the car (he was really hard of hearing at the end, so the yelling is kind of a given), Mick had a soft gentle side as well.  Even though Gobbles will not remember, he is so lucky to have met his Great-Grandpop.  When Grandpop first met my child, who happened to be a little large in the beginning, he exclaimed, "wow this kid's heavy.  he's a monster!".  And the nickname stuck.  Every time my mom would visit, he'd ask How's that monster? But then when he'd see Gobbles again he'd be ever so gentle in talking to him and having him sit on his lap.  He even yelled at my mom one time, Stop talking so loud, you're scarin the kid! 

Just this past Sunday, he asked if Gobbles was walking yet. "Of course" we told him, "you knew that".  Well, said Grandpop, I think you're going to need a bigger house, because he's a monster! 

Opinionated with the right touch of sarcasm... Mick's humor & advice may seem offensive from the outside but for those close we know its all out of love (and usually pretty practical as well, harsh as the truth may be sometimes).  Sound familiar?  Yea, so that must be where I got it.  Thanks for that trait Grandpop, I consider it one of my best (and worst).

My mother is number two of eleven. I am number eleven of twenty-eight.  My son is number fifteen of nineteen (so far).  We are just a few of this wonderful family that you are so proud of.  We love you and will miss you Grandpop.  Give Grandmom a hug for me and take good care of her, as you always have.

Fear

It's just after midnight Sunday morning.  Normally, we'd all be asleep anticipating a lazy day ahead of us filled with lots of family time, some home cooking, and a soccer game.  Instead, I'm riding down the highway counting the miles down from 26 to 1 as we slowly get closer to our destination.  I look out the passenger window to see if my husband is driving alongside, but really knowing he's probably ahead of us.  This ambulance is driving so. damn. slow...  I strain around the other way to get a peek of what's happening behind me.  "He's in good hands," the driver assures me, "this is a great team." 

I hear snippets of muffled conversation from the back, but nothing I can make sense of.  My mind wanders back to just 14 hours earlier when I was laying on a massage table without a care in the world.  Feeling guilty for even thinking about the hours I took a break from parenting, I snap myself back to the present and what is going on... but what is going on?  I have no idea, and every minute that goes by, every exit we pass on a road I've driven a million times feels completely unfamiliar and a little bit scary. The sight of my son, tiny, helpless, and confused, strapped down to a stretcher will forever be burned in my mind...

Let's back up a bit here.  Last Thursday was such a great day.  With record highs and outside, I took a lunchtime run to blow off steam and finished up work in time to leave with the sun still up.  I danced out the door ready for my four day weekend with my boy.  I picked him up from daycare and the teachers raved about how much fun he had.  When I gave him a hug his buddha belly peeked out beneath his shirt, revealing a few red bumps.  Hmm.  Must be brushburn from the slide or some bug bites.  That's odd. 

On the way home, we discussed our plans, Friday would be Mommy / Gobbles day at the park - we've never been to the park together (I know, ok?).  Saturday will be Mommy's day out with a friend followed by all of us seeing our friends that night, including Lil Buddy.  Sunday would be family day, and Monday we'd head to the Please Touch Museum.  So much fun to be had!

After his bath, a few more little bumps showed up on the Gobbler's butt.  We called my mom, school teacher by day, children's medical expert by night.  She suggested not giving him his amoxicillan just in case before putting him to bed, but a couple of hives may just be from something he ate.  Yea, a couple of hives.  The little man fussed through the night but nothing more than requiring a paci plug or in-the-dark diaper change.  Gobbles woke up unusually early for the day, and though I walked in groggy eyed, I was jolted awake by the look of him.  A rash from head to toe, my poor little boy looked like Woogie from Something About Mary. 

Hubs quickly called the Dr, but the on-call never called us back.  A few more calls to the answering service yielded nothing, and finally as they were opening someone said they could see us mid-morning.  Not good enough, so we packed up and went to the ER.

After a short wait and a few questions, the doctors came to the conclusion that Gobbles was having an allergic reaction to his amoxicillan.  No matter that he had been on it for 10 days back in January with no problem.  Nor that it was his 9th day on it before any hives showed up, they explained how the antibodies formed and began to fight the drug.  Erythema Multiforme Minor, they called it.  Benedryl every 6 hours for two days and he should be ok.  The rash may last a few weeks, but he should be fine.

Besides, he was acting, fine - chillin in the ER eating a snack.  You know, all's good.

Ay?  You gots a problem heyah?  Didn't think so... where's mah paci?

Mmmm Fishies!

So off we went home, and hubs to work, deciding that Mommy/Gobbles day in the park can wait for another day.  Besides, it's a bit cloudy outside anyway.  He slept most of Friday due to the benedryl but during the time he was awake we played and played as if there were no problem.  Lots of extra hugs and kisses were required though.

Saturday started off as normal as could be.  I was excited for my mom's day out and Gobbles was excited for alone time with Daddy.  I was concerned because the rash had moved, but hubs had since become an expert thanks to Google and said this was ok, just as long is it didn't look worse.

Nothing to be concerned about Momma!  Well, except maybe that booger.  I mean, a tissue could help, right?

So off I went with my Momma friend and we pretended we do this kind of stuff all the time.  A massage and lunch, thank you.  Because really, we could definitely use pampering like that every weekend!  I allowed myself to get lost in our morning even though conversation inevitably went back to kids because, well, that's just where we are and what's surrounding us at this time.  Most of our friends have either been knocked up, are currently knocked up, or have newly minted sparklers on their left hands as the first step to someday in the future becoming knocked up. 

When I got home from my little date, Gobbles was down for his nap as expected, and the rest of the afternoon was pretty low key.  When he woke up we gave him a special aveeno oatmeal bath to ease the itching.  It worked temporarily.  For dinner, the little man loved his chicken and baked potato, which he ate in no time.  Drinking?  That was another story.  No sippies, no bottles, no big boy cups, no nothing.  Everything we tried was rejected.  At bedtime, we noticed he was a little warm, and took at temp of 102.  Not typically high for him, but the discharge instructions from the day before said to call the dr for anything over 101. 

Thankfully the on-call got back to us within minutes, just as Gobbles began dozing in his crib.  After hubs answered a few questions about the state of the rash, which had kind of turned purple, we were told it'd be best to head back to the ER.  Assuming it would be similar to the day before's visit, we grabbed a few things, woke up the baby, and were out the door.  Unfortunately, nothing was the same.

The hospital was hopping for 9:00 on a Saturday night, but the on-call had phoned ahead to let them know we were coming, and he was taken back right away.  Five minutes with my kid and the doctors said they couldn't help him there, and they were ordering a transfer to a nearby children's hospital. 

While waiting for the transfer, they decided to get the labs going and start him on IV fluids.  They needed both hubs and myself, plus a second nurse to hold down my confused, fidgety baby while they poked him first in the inner elbow and next on the back of the hand trying to draw blood.  With each new poke, my son remained silent but for a small whimper and began to pull back his free hand which I was holding down with all my might.  I couldn't look him in the eye as this was happening, I felt horrible for being a part of it.

The IV was in place, secured by tape, a splint, gauze, more tape, and eventually a plastic cap (all to stop curious hands from ripping it out).  We stood up relieved, and hubs quickly sat back down, almost passing out.  He had not been so devoid of color since the moment I got my Epidural on Gobbles' birthday.  After we all calmed down a bit, we took turns attempting to rock the baby to sleep.  He was exhausted, but too interested in what was going on and too uncomfortable to just pass out even though it was way past his bedtime. 

During our wait for the ambulance, one of the nurses came in and pressed a small coin into my hand.  I give these angels to people who need them.  Good luck.  I looked at her, confused, but before I could say anything she was gone.  I know she meant no harm, but that actually made me feel like I had a reason to be scared, when before I just always assumed we'd be fine.

After we got to the children's hospital, time picked up, or slowed down, or maybe it was just so much waiting and waiting that I don't have anything to say, but by now we were delirious and everything the doctors said to us was running together.  Gobbles still hadn't gone to sleep but for 15 minutes during the ambulance ride, and was only content laying on one of our chests at a very specific angle.  Sometime after 3 we were told that he would be admitted for having Steven Johnson's Syndrome, so hubs sent me home to let the dogs out and get some rest.  God bless him for staying there with Gobbles the whole time, my rock.

I'll admit, I have driven after putting down a beer or two before, and looking back, that state is so much safer then driving when you are so completely physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted but also wide awake with worry.  The highway was completely deserted and somehow I convinced myself that the stories I've heard on the news about someone driving the wrong way was destined to happen during the ride home.  I took each curve with caution trying to figure out where I'd veer off to if necessary.  At least that's what I remember from the drive.  Like I said, kind of delirious.

I slept on and off for about 4 hours when daylight began to stream into the room.  I decided I needed to get back to see my son.  Still drained, it took me a good 20 minutes to figure out how to pack a shirt for hubs, an outfit for Gobbs, and some toys.

I drove as quickly as I could into the sun-shiny day, passing the time on the highway by chatting with my sisters on the phone as I drove.  Gobbles was in a shared room that was partitioned by a privacy curtain.  When I walked in, my son's face said it all...

Momma I missed you

And I've learned to function without my left arm!

All smiles for a boy in a hospital bed, what?

Yup, after just a few hours, lots of fluids, and grease all over me I feel great!

Yea, I guess my legs still look a little rough, but I 'm still smiling :)

After spending a few minutes with my happy little guy I realized everything was going to be alright.  We got lots of hugs and kisses, and they soon disconnected him from the fluids to see how he'd do drinking on his own.  We all took a brief nap, then ordered Gobbles some lunch.  Let's just say they call him Gobbles for more than one reason...

Ugh. Tastes like cardboard

This kinda tastes like cardboard too, but it has pizza sauce. MMMMMMMmmmm!

The nurses even brought a friend to have lunch with me.

Nom nom nom.

While Gobbles ate, hubs ran out to find some lunch for us.  The doctors told me if he drank well he could be discharged by the evening.  Upon hearing this news, I began cheering every time the little man took a sip. 

Then I heard it from behind the curtain... Nicky, why don't we read our cards from our friends again?  Gobbles' roommate was a small boy about 6ish, and had spent most of his time sleeping with his dad by his side.  I began to hear conversation that just ripped my heart out.  The boy's father began to read cards from relatives, various doctors, and friends.  When the nurses came in to check on him, I learned that he'd been in that room, in the bed, for 3 weeks.  Based on the meds they were giving him, he was not in good shape.  As the father continued talking lovingly to his son, I began to well up.  Sorrow for what that family must be going through.  Guilt, that I made such a big deal about my little guy when he was going to be fine.  Sadness, that we were probably not the only roommate that this boy has seen come and go in less than a day.  Every parents' worst fears were being lived out by the man on the other side of the room.

I squeezed my son a little closer in those moments, and every moment since.  By Monday evening, although still running a fever, showing traces of a rash, and having bloodshot eyes, my son was just about back to himself.  Each day after has been even better, and it's now been a week since the first red bumps arrived.  The result?  No amoxicillan / penicillan ever again, and just a few tired parents, who have a renewed gratefulness for what they have been blessed with.  My heart still aches for the little roommate, who I cannot get off my mind.  I hope and pray that he and his family pull through and come out ok.

Love you everybody! Thanks for the well wishes - as you can see I'm back to being good ol' Gobbles :)



One Boy's Valentine's Day

My Momma dressed me up like a walking billboard that screamed Hey Ladies!  I'm kinda desperate!  So embarrassing.  Especially considering I'm in a class full of boys.  Sure the teachers are girls, but they're not very happy with me right now since all I do is whine for them to pick me up.  I mean, is it really too much to ask for them to tote around another 25 lbs while caring for four other children?  I'm cute, right?  I thought so until my mom put on this shirt that basically said I did not have a Valentine.  Gee thanks Grandma!

Mommy asked Gobbles, am I your special Valentine?  I laughed and shook my head, and pointed to my Daddy.  She asked - is Daddy your Valentine?  I laughed again, yup!

I thought maybe I could get my 6 pearly whites sparkly fresh for the big day.  But ohhh the bristles on my gums!  It was better to just suck on the toothbrush.

Before I went off to school Mommy helped me read my cards that I got for Valentine's day.  The one from Nana was so special I carried it around the house!

After Daddy got my shoes on, I was all set for a big day at school!

Today was a great day because even though I didn't get any valentines in my bag, Momma surprised me by picking me up!  She said today was special so she didn't have to work late.  (Shhhh. She told me shush about that too but I don't know what it means!).  Daddy came home happy as well because he got great news today about the new job he wanted.  He's so happy and may even get to take the puppies in once in awhile!  Too bad he can't take me - I'd love to hang out with Daddy all day long!

Dinner was great, because rather than fighting my tantrums to get me to eat my veggies, Mommy and Daddy just took away what I didn't want and let me have what I wanted!  (*Mom's interjection - Yes.  We really did decide that the two waking hours we have with him on work days would be better spent getting him to eat something, anything rather than fighting over food and ending up tired, cranky, and still hungry anyway.  Tonight's result - good.  He declined veggies and rice, but after some applesauce and cheese, he accepted some chicken and gladly took cheerios and puffs.  Went to bed happy!*) 

And since we didn't spend so much time throwing food around at dinner, I had time to play with my new band in a box!

The cymbals were my favorite!

I felt like a toy monkey!

After all that music making, it was just time to dance.  The good ol' fridge farm not only tastes good, but it's perfect for my pre-bedtime booty shake. 

And by 8:00, that was it.  I was tired from a great Valentine's day and ready for bed.  Mommy took me up and started reading my books.  But guess what?  I was so ready for bed that I just started climbing into the crib while she read.  So instead she recited my book to me and got my blankets.  I laughed at the parts I like, and smiled behind my paci.  I pointed to my light as if to say "turn it out! it's bedtime!"  Mommy told me she loved me so so much and bent all the way down to give me a kiss.  She touched my cheek and said Goodnight Gobbles!  I'll see you in the morning!  Happy Valentine's day!  I love you so much!

As she left my room, I giggled to myself.  I didn't need to find a Valentine in my class, I still have a few years before I'll call myself a "bachelor".  Right now, the only Valentine I need watched on the monitor as I talked and laughed to myself for 24 minutes before falling asleep.  My Mommy is the best Valentine I could ask for.  Besides my Daddy :)

Anatomy of a Tantrum

There are two kinds of tantrums.  At least in this little boys world.  At least, just two so far. 

First, there is the "out of nowhere, I don't even know what I'm screaming about, then it's gone" fit:

Step 1:  Life is calm, things are going well, and everybody is happy and playing:

Just readin mah book. lalala.  Upside down?  Didn't even notice!



Step 2:  The tides turn.  The toddler hears the word "no" and the world begins to crumble:

whaddya mean no?  what if i peak out all cute from behind my vest?

well if that doesn't work, forget this vest!!

Step 3:  The floodgates open, complete with kicking and screaming...

take me seriously dammit!!

call the wahhhhhmbulance!

 Step 4:  Peace is restored and all is right with the world (please note this step may come about a lot quicker with some redirection and/or bribery):

Ohhh look at this rattle!  What was I crying about again??

Second, much worse than the first one "I know what you want me to do but I'm just going to be defiant.  I'm going to be so stubborn that I will wear you to pieces until I get my way" freak out. 

I do not have a full pictorial for this one, as we were more focused on actually trying to respond properly.  Tonight at dinner, Gobbles decided he wanted no part of what we served him.  After waiting out a screaming fit and peas being thrown off the high chair in every direction, we calmed him down, knowing he was still hungry.  My boy loves yogurt, so we decided it would be a half decent dinner.  I fed him the first two spoonfuls and he wolfed them down.  Then, deciding he should practice with his spoon, with which he is very capable, I put some yogurt on it and handed the spoon to him.

That's when the chaos began.  He threw the spoon back and started crying.  I fed him another bite, all smiles.  Then again tried to pass the spoon and he smacked my hand away.  Let's do it together, I said, and held his hand in mine with the spoon.  Nope.  Only if mommy is holding the spoon completely.  Since he already won and got the food he wanted, I wasn't going to give in so easily, but boy is he stubborn.  Gobbles got so worked up in flinging that spoon back that we decided to take him out of the high chair to calm down. Out of my lap he jumped so he could sprawl on the floor.


I hate you peas.  I hate you spoons (not to be confused with my puppy Spoons).  WHY is  my life so hard?

 After we got him back into the chair, he refused the yogurt all together.  Defeated, and knowing there was only a half hour left to feed and bathe and bed the rambunctious child, we gave in.  So after 45 minutes of battle, Gobbles had veggie puffs and a nutrigrain bar for dinner, exactly what he wanted.  

Wow this parenting thing is hard...

Oh good.  Another happy picture.  We were starting to think "wow, mother of the year - taking pictures while your child is tormented and bawling on the floor".  lovely.  

A little bit of everything

This week started off on a good note. I'd been dying to see my girls, to have a night out dancing and making asses of ourselves. For awhile now I've been driving around in my car blasting Gaga and screaming Rhianna (after dropping Gobbles off of course, nice tame Mumford & Sons is what he prefers).  Luckily, the latest lady to get her finger bling is a true delco gal, and came home sans man for a night out. 

Since I was driving I couldn't exactly throw 'em back, but I definitely got just what I needed - a few hours where all I had to worry about was making sure I didn't catch a disease from the couple dancing next to me.  Sounds harsh, but next to some of the boulder diapers Gobbles puts out, it was nothing.  And the night wouldn't be complete without my (happily married) knocked up bff rubbing her 25 week belly and jumping up and down in response to the DJ's request for single ladies.   She knows how we work it!

I rolled in after 2 am to a sleepy hubs who complained to me, "the little man has been fighting sleep all night, you owe me!".  Thankfully, my awesome father-in-law, who was crashing at our house for a local trumpet convention, was more than eager to wake up with Gobbles when he decided it was time to start the day at 6am the next morning.  Grandparents are awesome like that.  The funniest part of the morning was when hubs and I finally woke up for real and went downstairs to see a wide smile on our son, a weary but loving Pop on the couch, and every item from the toybox strewn across the living room.  The response, well, he felt like playing with everything at some point, and as a grandfather it's not my place to deny him anything.

Monday, the 31st, was a big day for little Gobbles.  What I thought would be his last day in the infant room actually turned out to be his first full day in the toddler room.  After I got him all settled with his new teacher, I want back to gather up his things from the baby room.  No more crib for napping, no more bottles.  Since I thought we had 24 more hours, of course I got a little teary as I was saying goodbye and thank you to the infant teachers.  So there went the first of 18 "grade" transitions he's gonna make. My little boy's all growns up!
 
Apparently the toddler room doesn't suit my baby well, since I got a call late that afternoon: Come pick Gobbles up, he has a fever.  And don't forget our policy - 24 hours fever free before returning, so he can't come in tomorrow too.  Great.  Between snow and fevers, this kid hasn't had a full week of daycare since before christmas.  Glad we're getting our money's worth! 
 
Hubs graciously decided to take a sick day since I had been stuck working from home so much with the snow closures, so he took him to the doc and gave him some tlc.  The doctor told us to let him fight it, since he just finished his ear infection medicine.  Let the fever spike, give it tylonal if it gets really bad, but other than that let him build up his immunity.  Just what a mother wants to hear - let your child suffer as much as you can stand, it'll be good for him.  Unfortunately, Gobbles's fever spiked again late Tuesday and his eye just about crusted shut from mucus.  Yum.
 
The next day we awoke to find no power.  Normally this doesn't bother us.  Just 3 (or 4?) years ago we were having a party at our house when the power went out.  We just lit up the millions of yankee candles we have laying around, told our 20 or so guests that the pulled pork may get cold if not eaten immediately, and made sure to drink as much beer as possible lest it go bad.  Unfortunately, losing power is not the best thing to happen when you (a) have a sick child who likes warm food and a warm house and (b) have to work from home taking care of said sick child. 
 
But (score two for grandparents this post), my mom had the day off because of a power outage so she volunteered to take Gobbles while hubs and I went to work.  Unfortunately, the fever spiked again so we decided I'd work from home with the little guy the next day.  I made sure to stay late and get the critical stuff done, knowing that working on a laptop when all a child wants to do is cuddle is virtually impossible.  Luckily, by Thursday it seemed the boy was finally getting better, and all he wanted to do was sleep.  I managed to get a decent amount of work done with only one "crying during a conference call" episode (him, not me).  
 
By mid-afternoon I was ready to put away the computer and have some mommy / Gobbles time.  And despite playing the "I'm so pathetically sick, just love me" card so well, the little guys still managed to make me crack up.  When getting him up from his nap, I put him on the changing table, talking to him as I always do.  He started smiling and frantically clapping.  Awww, are you happy to see mommy??   He shook his head vigorously No no no, with a mischievous grin.  My nose then led me to ask Do you have a surprise in your diaper for mommy??  Hysterical laughter & more clapping.  Sure enough, inside the diaper was... well you guessed it.  Only my husband's son would be the kind of kid who's first "joke" would be about poop.  His father, who still cracks himself up about that which comes out of one's douppy*, was so proud of him when I relayed the story.  That's my boy!
 
**Douppy:  Mountain town speak for butt.  Rhymes with whoopie. Lord knows how it's spelled.

Helpin mommy work.  Don't mind the chewed up windowsill, they're a few years behind on repairs!

STOP with the tissues!  Who CARES if there are boogers coming out of my eye and nose!

If I'm cute will you stop?  Pleeeaase?

Look mommy, you can work just fine, Cannoli will pull me around!



But, if you take your eyes off of me for one second it's up the stairs I go! 

Why don't you have the gate up?

 

Haha, you caught me!  Now I feel better!