Thursday, May 23, 2013
Music School
This afternoon, we're going to visit a music school that teaches, in the afternoons, in a local private school. The Boy seems to be just about ready (maybe) to start piano lessons again, and we're thinking that having lessons be out of the house - maybe with other kids around, to be more social - will trigger his interest. He's a tough nut to crack, very much a creature of momentum, and "ripping" him away from playing with his brothers might not be the best manner of starting his musical education. He's also a creature of routine, so hopefully getting him started on something regular (it's Saturday morning, it's time for music classes) will help him. We'll see.
I'm always a worst-case-scenario person, so I'm hopefully this will be better than that.
Little Bear has started with the holding-the-violin and pushing-the-bow thing, which is kind of cool. I think he'll be ready, earlier, than The Boy. He's not ready yet, but I don't predict that it'll be as much of a struggle. He sung more than The Boy did as an infant; he probably sung the most of the three boys. The Baby was a tad more vocal than Little Bear, but I think Little Bear actually sung / vocally experimented a bit more.
I really want my kids to be proficient musicians. I don't want them to pursue music as a career - not much of a retirement plan, you know? - but I do want them to be able to play and to sing. My ideal would be to have the three boys sing in a quartet with me. I'd kill to have them in contest with me as a quartet! (There was a dad with his three sons at the contest in April, and it was such a wonderful, heart-warming thing. The fact that they were really nice - and really good - only made it that much cooler.) I want them to be able to sit down at a piano and noodle a bit. I want them to be able to pick up an instrument and play, if they'd like.
I know that I'll gleefully join the local barbershop chorus if one or more of the boys would sing with me.
The family went to the zoo this afternoon while I was at work, and the skies just opened up in an incredible deluge. So, they're soaking wet, and Mum didn't pack any extra outfits for the big boys. Oh, well... damp children at the music school today. I'm sure they're not the first. Little boys tend to accumulate dirt and moisture from everywhere. I always thought Pig Pen, from Peanuts, was an exaggeration, but he isn't. My children can walk, perfectly clean, into a sterile clean room and walk out with dirty faces.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Tooth Fairy
On the good news front, The Boy lost another tooth yesterday. It's the lower middle tooth; he had lost the other one. The Tooth Fairy completely forgot to visit last night; looks like he got a little distracted by the Officers' Installation Dinner for his chorus and it entirely slipped his mind. Sigh.
Not really sure what I'm going to do for the tooth fairy this time around. I think I'm still going to go with the action figures, mostly because I have a big trunk of them thanks to Uncle B. I'm fairly sure that there's enough for all the kids' baby teeth - at least for the first two. Granted, there might come a time when they'd rather have money - we'll see.
We haven't discussed the money thing with them. They know what it is, and they know that I go to work to get more, but that's about it. We haven't started any of them on an allowance yet. If they've wanted something, they ask for it. If we can afford it, we'll get it - maybe not right away, because that's how to find good birthday gifts. If it's something that's too expensive, we'll explain it to them and see if there are any alternatives - like, making our own costumes and that sort of thing. I know that we eventually have to do the money thing with them, but I'm in no rush. Let them live in blissful ignorance for a little while.
Kindergarten, we'll probably start the boys on an allowance. Do your chores, earn your allowance. I think that's pretty fair, although I'm willing to remove chores from the allowance discussion - there's some thought that the two are separate because household chores should be done without the expectation of a reward. I mean, SOMEONE has to clean their room / load the dishwasher / scrape dishes / clean bathroom / whatever they eventually wind up doing. I'm not sure I buy that, but I do understand the rationale behind it. It's more important for me to help teach them some responsibility to use their money.
One would hope that, considering that my job responsibilities revolve around credit, that I'd eventually do a good job of teaching my kids how to be financially conservative and careful of their credit. Just because their credit card has a $5,000 limit doesn't mean that you SHOULD spend the $5,000.
Interesting thoughts for the day.
Not really sure what I'm going to do for the tooth fairy this time around. I think I'm still going to go with the action figures, mostly because I have a big trunk of them thanks to Uncle B. I'm fairly sure that there's enough for all the kids' baby teeth - at least for the first two. Granted, there might come a time when they'd rather have money - we'll see.
We haven't discussed the money thing with them. They know what it is, and they know that I go to work to get more, but that's about it. We haven't started any of them on an allowance yet. If they've wanted something, they ask for it. If we can afford it, we'll get it - maybe not right away, because that's how to find good birthday gifts. If it's something that's too expensive, we'll explain it to them and see if there are any alternatives - like, making our own costumes and that sort of thing. I know that we eventually have to do the money thing with them, but I'm in no rush. Let them live in blissful ignorance for a little while.
Kindergarten, we'll probably start the boys on an allowance. Do your chores, earn your allowance. I think that's pretty fair, although I'm willing to remove chores from the allowance discussion - there's some thought that the two are separate because household chores should be done without the expectation of a reward. I mean, SOMEONE has to clean their room / load the dishwasher / scrape dishes / clean bathroom / whatever they eventually wind up doing. I'm not sure I buy that, but I do understand the rationale behind it. It's more important for me to help teach them some responsibility to use their money.
One would hope that, considering that my job responsibilities revolve around credit, that I'd eventually do a good job of teaching my kids how to be financially conservative and careful of their credit. Just because their credit card has a $5,000 limit doesn't mean that you SHOULD spend the $5,000.
Interesting thoughts for the day.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Three Years Old
Yesterday was a perfect example of Little Bear being - well - three and a half years old.
The Boy was home from school because of the obvious stomach issues, which somewhat limited the abilities of the other children to go out and do much of anything.
While Grandma did sit with The Boy while The Wife took Little Bear and The Baby to the toy library to return some toys and to blow off some steam, they were home most of the day. When Little Bear starts to get cabin fever, he gets mean: pushing, hitting, throwing things at his brothers, talking back, and spitting/hissing at his parents. He is too little to be able to skip his nap as regularly as he does, but he's old enough to willfully resist the nap. Also, when he naps, he tends to be awake until midnight. She finally sent Little Bear to his room to cool off, only to find him curled up in bed, asleep. She only let him sleep fifteen minutes or so; a catnap to relieve some of the pressure.
I stopped home quickly after work to pick up a sandwich, get changed, and go to rehearsal, so I threw Little Bear in the car. We were a trio last night, so I knew it'd be a short rehearsal. He wandered around and explored a bit but got frightened when a big housefly divebombed him in the bathroom. While he was sitting and playing with my phone, the custodian asked, "Can he have an ice cream sandwich?" and gave him one from the school cafeteria. How cool was that? I had been planning to take him to Dunkin Donuts after rehearsal, but he got a neat treat and saved me the calories.
He watched a little bit of the Disney movie Hercules while we sang, and he was excited to hear that the song "Go The Distance," that my quartet sings is from that movie. Good ears by him for noticing that.
He was asking to go home about 45 minutes into rehearsal, which is actually much longer than The Boy lasts. He likes some of our songs, but the rehearsal process is, after all, boring to hear when you're not participating.
Bedtime was kind of challenging, as all three kids hit their second wind around 8pm, when they should have been settling down. However, with some perserverance, we got them to calm down and, one by one, go to sleep. For the first time since The Boy got sick, we had three children asleep at (roughly) a normal hour.
The Boy stayed home from school today - one more day - and will be ready to go back tomorrow. He's eating normally, and everything else is starting to return to normal. We'll see.
The Boy was home from school because of the obvious stomach issues, which somewhat limited the abilities of the other children to go out and do much of anything.
While Grandma did sit with The Boy while The Wife took Little Bear and The Baby to the toy library to return some toys and to blow off some steam, they were home most of the day. When Little Bear starts to get cabin fever, he gets mean: pushing, hitting, throwing things at his brothers, talking back, and spitting/hissing at his parents. He is too little to be able to skip his nap as regularly as he does, but he's old enough to willfully resist the nap. Also, when he naps, he tends to be awake until midnight. She finally sent Little Bear to his room to cool off, only to find him curled up in bed, asleep. She only let him sleep fifteen minutes or so; a catnap to relieve some of the pressure.
I stopped home quickly after work to pick up a sandwich, get changed, and go to rehearsal, so I threw Little Bear in the car. We were a trio last night, so I knew it'd be a short rehearsal. He wandered around and explored a bit but got frightened when a big housefly divebombed him in the bathroom. While he was sitting and playing with my phone, the custodian asked, "Can he have an ice cream sandwich?" and gave him one from the school cafeteria. How cool was that? I had been planning to take him to Dunkin Donuts after rehearsal, but he got a neat treat and saved me the calories.
He watched a little bit of the Disney movie Hercules while we sang, and he was excited to hear that the song "Go The Distance," that my quartet sings is from that movie. Good ears by him for noticing that.
He was asking to go home about 45 minutes into rehearsal, which is actually much longer than The Boy lasts. He likes some of our songs, but the rehearsal process is, after all, boring to hear when you're not participating.
Bedtime was kind of challenging, as all three kids hit their second wind around 8pm, when they should have been settling down. However, with some perserverance, we got them to calm down and, one by one, go to sleep. For the first time since The Boy got sick, we had three children asleep at (roughly) a normal hour.
The Boy stayed home from school today - one more day - and will be ready to go back tomorrow. He's eating normally, and everything else is starting to return to normal. We'll see.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Home Again
So, Saturday night in the hospital was a heck of lot easier than Thursday night at the hospital. For one thing, the diarrhea was more under control and there was less vomiting, and because of that, the nurse and nurse's assistant were only in the room for two brief visits apiece. That meant that I got almost 90 minutes of uninterrupted sleep on no less than 3 occasions! I was pretty excited about that. The final occasion was just about 90 minutes before the new morning nurse burst in the room with a cheery, loud, "Good morning!"
You'd think that you would know not to do that, but I digress. Up in hem/onc, that nurse would be killed, and I'd probably speak with a supervisor about it, discreetly. In the general populace, it's just idiocy.
So, we had a nice breakfast - made nicer by two facts: 1) The Boy was enthusiastic about eating, for the first time that I'd seen in a few days;
(Side note: Mouse pancakes)
and 2) since he's old enough to manage himself, I was able to run down to the cafeteria and back and get my own breakfast. We watched Wreck It Ralph again (it was on the hospitals on-demand service, so he watched it about four times per day while he was there). The nurse said that we could go down to the playroom for a little while.
The playroom was quite nice. Because it was Sunday morning, there were ample volunteers - six volunteers for The Boy and the only other kid there. Kind of intimidating for the kids, actually. So, The Boy played with some college kids and did some art work with different college kids. He felt paid-attention-to, I suppose. We were told to be back in our room for a final blood draw. Once the results came in, we could go home.
We went back upstairs, obediently at 11, and were told that the blood draw was unnecessary. They were drawing up our discharge papers! I met The Wife at home around noon, we had lunch, and she napped with The Boy while I took Little Bear and The Baby to the park. After naptime, I did some outside work (the lawn was resembling a rain forest at this point) while she entertained the children. The Baby and Little Bear went to sleep early. The Boy was in his bed for an hour or so, but he joined me quickly in our bed. "Daddy, I don't want to sleep alone. I still feel icky."
All in all, not our worst visit, not our best visit. It's reassuring but scary that our "inpatient" muscles reassert themselves so quickly! The violent expulsion from both ends made Thursday and Friday difficult, but things started to come under control on Saturday. We're not out of the woods, yet, but we at least found a path. Back to normal.
But, man, it's easy to forget how freaking exhausting the hospital is.
You'd think that you would know not to do that, but I digress. Up in hem/onc, that nurse would be killed, and I'd probably speak with a supervisor about it, discreetly. In the general populace, it's just idiocy.
So, we had a nice breakfast - made nicer by two facts: 1) The Boy was enthusiastic about eating, for the first time that I'd seen in a few days;
(Side note: Mouse pancakes)
and 2) since he's old enough to manage himself, I was able to run down to the cafeteria and back and get my own breakfast. We watched Wreck It Ralph again (it was on the hospitals on-demand service, so he watched it about four times per day while he was there). The nurse said that we could go down to the playroom for a little while.
The playroom was quite nice. Because it was Sunday morning, there were ample volunteers - six volunteers for The Boy and the only other kid there. Kind of intimidating for the kids, actually. So, The Boy played with some college kids and did some art work with different college kids. He felt paid-attention-to, I suppose. We were told to be back in our room for a final blood draw. Once the results came in, we could go home.
We went back upstairs, obediently at 11, and were told that the blood draw was unnecessary. They were drawing up our discharge papers! I met The Wife at home around noon, we had lunch, and she napped with The Boy while I took Little Bear and The Baby to the park. After naptime, I did some outside work (the lawn was resembling a rain forest at this point) while she entertained the children. The Baby and Little Bear went to sleep early. The Boy was in his bed for an hour or so, but he joined me quickly in our bed. "Daddy, I don't want to sleep alone. I still feel icky."
All in all, not our worst visit, not our best visit. It's reassuring but scary that our "inpatient" muscles reassert themselves so quickly! The violent expulsion from both ends made Thursday and Friday difficult, but things started to come under control on Saturday. We're not out of the woods, yet, but we at least found a path. Back to normal.
But, man, it's easy to forget how freaking exhausting the hospital is.
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Cleveland and Back Again
Thursday night in the hospital as fairly easy. Since he had been sleeping on and off for a big chunk of the day (getting your fluids drained down to, well, nothing is surprisingly tiring), he was up for a good chunk of the evening. We played and drew and used iPad and did the normal Daddy and The Boy thing. Around 12:30, he asked me to play a comic book game on my iPhone, to which he fell asleep. I was asleep a bit later than that and woke every other hour when the nurse came in to check vitals. Twice during that time, I changed and cleaned The Boy's diaper (he slept in a real diaper because he was pooping uncontrollably and copiously). I was up for good around 5:30, when the beeping to change the IV bag went unattended for five minutes or so. Sigh. The Wife got to me late, but I got to work by 9am.
That night, I was supposed to head out to Cleveland for the Sweet Adeline convention. I was supposed to get there for the end of the quartet contest, have the chorus contest and show Saturday, celebrate and network and stuff afterwards, then head home Sunday morning. That obviously changed. The Wife and I maintain strong communication all day Friday to determine what my plans would actually be. I hate the thought of leaving The Boy in the hospital and leaving town, but, as she put it, I went to contest while he was getting chemo. Why would I stay home for something correspondingly less serious? No real argument.
So, I went out to the contest. I did spend and hour at the hospital first, relieving Grandpa and - you guessed it - cleaning up more poo. I got to Cleveland around 9:30, checked in, rehearsed with the chorus and went to bed. Woke up the next morning, ran on the treadmill, did the contest thing, finished second in the region (to my deep shock, surprise, and lifelong pleasure), recapped with my chorus, then went back directly to the hospital.
The Boy is in much, much better spirits and better health. He's happy and playful and active (sort of). He was coloring when I got there, and he said that he got to play with Guru, from my quartet. Hooray! He also watched Wreck It Ralph about six times. He and I roughhoused a little bit (VERY gently), we read some stories, and played some video games together. He just fell asleep around 11:15. He requested that I sleep in the bed with him, which I'm considering except for the facts:
1) He's not three anymore, and while he's grown, the beds have stayed the same size, and
2) I don't want what he's got. I was in the hospital already within the last year, and I don't want to be there again.
I'm probably going to take the couch again.
We are hopeful that he'll be released tomorrow. They need to see him off fluids and eating for 12 hours. They're measuring ins (food/drink) and outs (he poops into an asshat. Not kidding, that's the name), and as soon as the ins outweigh the outs....
I guess there is at least a decent chance that he's in for another night. We'll see.
2nd place. Hee hee. I'm tickled.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
That night, I was supposed to head out to Cleveland for the Sweet Adeline convention. I was supposed to get there for the end of the quartet contest, have the chorus contest and show Saturday, celebrate and network and stuff afterwards, then head home Sunday morning. That obviously changed. The Wife and I maintain strong communication all day Friday to determine what my plans would actually be. I hate the thought of leaving The Boy in the hospital and leaving town, but, as she put it, I went to contest while he was getting chemo. Why would I stay home for something correspondingly less serious? No real argument.
So, I went out to the contest. I did spend and hour at the hospital first, relieving Grandpa and - you guessed it - cleaning up more poo. I got to Cleveland around 9:30, checked in, rehearsed with the chorus and went to bed. Woke up the next morning, ran on the treadmill, did the contest thing, finished second in the region (to my deep shock, surprise, and lifelong pleasure), recapped with my chorus, then went back directly to the hospital.
The Boy is in much, much better spirits and better health. He's happy and playful and active (sort of). He was coloring when I got there, and he said that he got to play with Guru, from my quartet. Hooray! He also watched Wreck It Ralph about six times. He and I roughhoused a little bit (VERY gently), we read some stories, and played some video games together. He just fell asleep around 11:15. He requested that I sleep in the bed with him, which I'm considering except for the facts:
1) He's not three anymore, and while he's grown, the beds have stayed the same size, and
2) I don't want what he's got. I was in the hospital already within the last year, and I don't want to be there again.
I'm probably going to take the couch again.
We are hopeful that he'll be released tomorrow. They need to see him off fluids and eating for 12 hours. They're measuring ins (food/drink) and outs (he poops into an asshat. Not kidding, that's the name), and as soon as the ins outweigh the outs....
I guess there is at least a decent chance that he's in for another night. We'll see.
2nd place. Hee hee. I'm tickled.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Familiar Surroundings
So, Wednesday was considerably easier than Tuesday. Not easy, mind you; just easier.
At the end of the work day, I was starting to feel a little sketchy. I was thinking that I might be catching what The Boy had - was feeling squeamish in the belly, but I was not exploding out of either end, so if I had it, it was a correspondingly minor case. Looking back, I think it was a case of extreme tiredness combined with sympathetic feelings. Either way, at the end of the work day, I went to Big Lots to get some Powerade (in case I did start moving the wrong way) and some pillows (because diarrhea wrecked two pillows, including my pillow).
When I got home from the store, I picked up The Boy to take him to the bathroom, and he felt warm. That comes back later.
The rest of the night was challenging. Little Bear and The Baby went out to dinner with Grandma and Grandpa, and LB fell asleep on the way home. He went right up to bed, and slept until about 9:30. The Baby went to sleep around 9, and I was settling The Boy down to sleep when he puked all over the now-freshly made Daddy's bed. Rookie mistake - left the bucket downstairs when I brought him upstairs. So, we slept in the trundle bed - he wanted the bottom one, I got the top.
At that point, I was nearly delirious from exhaustion. I had sent The Wife no sleep an hour earlier, and Little Bear now decided that he was both awake and needed direct soothing and attention. I tried taking him downstairs to watch some tv (and get some desperately needed sleep), the the extra show and a half didn't help. Eventually, The Wife woke up, put me to bed, and soothed the kids. We slept the night through uneventfully.
Today was somewhat easier - Little Bear and The Baby were in good moods, and The Boy was drinking a little bit of water and holding it in. But, as the day went on, he became progressively more lethargic. Long story short, I left work at 4 and met The Wife and The Boy at the emergency room.
They've pumped a prodigious amount of fluid in him, and he progressed from a limp noodle to a grumpy little boy (not angry, just discomfited). They're keeping him here at night so that they can keep an eye on him - once the fluids start coming in, he started with the diarrhea. And, since Mommy is The Baby's pacifier, she's home with 2 & 3 while I'm here with The Boy.
Only differences: we're on the 7th floor and not the 9th, and we're not VIPs. I'm okay with that. He also asked that I sleep on the couch and not in the bed with him, which is a pretty big change. I'm kind of okay with that; I don't think I would fit, and I don't want to be pooped on.
Interesting conundrum: this weekend is contest weekend for my Sweet Adelines in Cleveland. The good news is that we had reinforcements coming to help because I was planning on being away for the weekend. Nt sure how long I'll be able to stay, with The Boy in the hospital.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
At the end of the work day, I was starting to feel a little sketchy. I was thinking that I might be catching what The Boy had - was feeling squeamish in the belly, but I was not exploding out of either end, so if I had it, it was a correspondingly minor case. Looking back, I think it was a case of extreme tiredness combined with sympathetic feelings. Either way, at the end of the work day, I went to Big Lots to get some Powerade (in case I did start moving the wrong way) and some pillows (because diarrhea wrecked two pillows, including my pillow).
When I got home from the store, I picked up The Boy to take him to the bathroom, and he felt warm. That comes back later.
The rest of the night was challenging. Little Bear and The Baby went out to dinner with Grandma and Grandpa, and LB fell asleep on the way home. He went right up to bed, and slept until about 9:30. The Baby went to sleep around 9, and I was settling The Boy down to sleep when he puked all over the now-freshly made Daddy's bed. Rookie mistake - left the bucket downstairs when I brought him upstairs. So, we slept in the trundle bed - he wanted the bottom one, I got the top.
At that point, I was nearly delirious from exhaustion. I had sent The Wife no sleep an hour earlier, and Little Bear now decided that he was both awake and needed direct soothing and attention. I tried taking him downstairs to watch some tv (and get some desperately needed sleep), the the extra show and a half didn't help. Eventually, The Wife woke up, put me to bed, and soothed the kids. We slept the night through uneventfully.
Today was somewhat easier - Little Bear and The Baby were in good moods, and The Boy was drinking a little bit of water and holding it in. But, as the day went on, he became progressively more lethargic. Long story short, I left work at 4 and met The Wife and The Boy at the emergency room.
They've pumped a prodigious amount of fluid in him, and he progressed from a limp noodle to a grumpy little boy (not angry, just discomfited). They're keeping him here at night so that they can keep an eye on him - once the fluids start coming in, he started with the diarrhea. And, since Mommy is The Baby's pacifier, she's home with 2 & 3 while I'm here with The Boy.
Only differences: we're on the 7th floor and not the 9th, and we're not VIPs. I'm okay with that. He also asked that I sleep on the couch and not in the bed with him, which is a pretty big change. I'm kind of okay with that; I don't think I would fit, and I don't want to be pooped on.
Interesting conundrum: this weekend is contest weekend for my Sweet Adelines in Cleveland. The good news is that we had reinforcements coming to help because I was planning on being away for the weekend. Nt sure how long I'll be able to stay, with The Boy in the hospital.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Out Both Ends
Last night was Friends and Family Night for my chorus - it's the night where the chorus and affiliated quartets get to show off for - you guessed it - our friends and family. It's a shorter (45-60 minute), informal performance and dress rehearsal (literally) for the chorus contest this coming weekend in Cleveland. I sang with my quartet and directed the chorus, and The Wife brought the boys up to the rehearsal site.
Things started... questionably. The boys last through the contest performance, which The Wife actually got to watch. They grew quickly restless during the quartets and made random, mad dashes towards the performers. (Including, during our second run-through, a mad dash towards me, which was REALLY not appreciated. It happened last year and still wasn't cute. I'm not pleased about that - not The Wife's fault, but the boys need to be better than that.) After the performance, we have social time and - most importantly - treats of a WIDE variety.
Best part about being director? When everything ends, I'm closest to the cookie table.
While I was socializing and doing some minor playing with the kid, I was called over to The Boy, who had just vomited onto the gym floor - it was a LOT of puke. Granted, not even in the top 50 of puking incidents (big, wide gym floor is easy to clean. Try to clean puke out of a car seat, buckles, and the little creases and crevices), but still pretty unpleasant. The Baby wandered over to me and got puked on (the third set of throwing up The Boy did). The ladies from my chorus helped me clean up, I threw the kids in the car, and The Wife took them home. I followed soon after.
Here's how the rest of my night went:
11:00: everyone is settled in and sleeping. I moved The Boy and Little Bear to their beds.
11:30: I slept.
12:30: The Boy's first diarrhea attack caught him by surprise, demolishing his bed (thankfully on the wet pad that was under the sheets) and pajamas. The Wife and I stripped the bed, threw boy in the tub, cleaned up the floor, steam cleaned it to get the smell out, put a load of diaper-type wash on, got him dressed and night diapered-up, calmed down The Baby, put Little Bear back to sleep, put The Boy back to sleep in our bed. The Wife went downstairs to keep The Baby away from whatever stomach bug The Boy has. Only good part was that the Pirates had just won their game in the 13th inning, so I got to watch highlights of that before settling down.
2:00: Little Bear came in, threw a major fit when I wouldn't let him into bed with us and wouldn't let him downstairs to bother Mom. I sat with him until he calmed down and went back to sleep.
2:30: The Boy went to the potty for the first time by himself.
3:15: The Boy went to the potty for the second time by himself. This time, he didn't put his night diaper back on before climbing back into bed.
4:00: Little Bear came back in the room. Repeat of 1:30.
5:30: The Boy had another attack of the runs, didn't wake up through it.
5:45: I discovered this when I put my hand on the other side of The Boy.
6:00: "Awake" for the day.
Breakfast didn't go well. He had some diluted grape juice and didn't keep it down. After I left for work, he started keeping some fluids down, which means that we're hopeful that we'll be able to avoid an emergency room trip. Rough night, to say the least.
Could be worse, though - this isn't the first time we've been awake with a puking, pooping The Boy, and this is FAR easier than dealing with the puking and pooping that follows chemotherapy and low-count-induced sickness.
Things started... questionably. The boys last through the contest performance, which The Wife actually got to watch. They grew quickly restless during the quartets and made random, mad dashes towards the performers. (Including, during our second run-through, a mad dash towards me, which was REALLY not appreciated. It happened last year and still wasn't cute. I'm not pleased about that - not The Wife's fault, but the boys need to be better than that.) After the performance, we have social time and - most importantly - treats of a WIDE variety.
Best part about being director? When everything ends, I'm closest to the cookie table.
While I was socializing and doing some minor playing with the kid, I was called over to The Boy, who had just vomited onto the gym floor - it was a LOT of puke. Granted, not even in the top 50 of puking incidents (big, wide gym floor is easy to clean. Try to clean puke out of a car seat, buckles, and the little creases and crevices), but still pretty unpleasant. The Baby wandered over to me and got puked on (the third set of throwing up The Boy did). The ladies from my chorus helped me clean up, I threw the kids in the car, and The Wife took them home. I followed soon after.
Here's how the rest of my night went:
11:00: everyone is settled in and sleeping. I moved The Boy and Little Bear to their beds.
11:30: I slept.
12:30: The Boy's first diarrhea attack caught him by surprise, demolishing his bed (thankfully on the wet pad that was under the sheets) and pajamas. The Wife and I stripped the bed, threw boy in the tub, cleaned up the floor, steam cleaned it to get the smell out, put a load of diaper-type wash on, got him dressed and night diapered-up, calmed down The Baby, put Little Bear back to sleep, put The Boy back to sleep in our bed. The Wife went downstairs to keep The Baby away from whatever stomach bug The Boy has. Only good part was that the Pirates had just won their game in the 13th inning, so I got to watch highlights of that before settling down.
2:00: Little Bear came in, threw a major fit when I wouldn't let him into bed with us and wouldn't let him downstairs to bother Mom. I sat with him until he calmed down and went back to sleep.
2:30: The Boy went to the potty for the first time by himself.
3:15: The Boy went to the potty for the second time by himself. This time, he didn't put his night diaper back on before climbing back into bed.
4:00: Little Bear came back in the room. Repeat of 1:30.
5:30: The Boy had another attack of the runs, didn't wake up through it.
5:45: I discovered this when I put my hand on the other side of The Boy.
6:00: "Awake" for the day.
Breakfast didn't go well. He had some diluted grape juice and didn't keep it down. After I left for work, he started keeping some fluids down, which means that we're hopeful that we'll be able to avoid an emergency room trip. Rough night, to say the least.
Could be worse, though - this isn't the first time we've been awake with a puking, pooping The Boy, and this is FAR easier than dealing with the puking and pooping that follows chemotherapy and low-count-induced sickness.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)