The *Smack* Down

Last Monday is was freezing with a half foot of snow falling onto the ground.

This Monday I ate lunch outside without a coat.

70 degree weather is a fickle friend. It embraces you with a warm hug and kiss, and then*smack*, knocks you upside the head with the price of that warm hug.

The price? Illness.

I should have known better. Sure, it is one thing for ME to run around outside with a short sleeve shirt and no coat. It is a whole other thing to have Grace run around outside sans coat, sleeves and shoes.

So again - the price? Illness.

Monday morning Grace woke up SCREAMING. At 2:30 am. And REFUSED to go back to sleep. I should have known something was wrong right then and there.

Then I got reports of Gracie throwing up her lunch at daycare. The teachers said they thought she had just choked on some beans though, so not to worry about it. She was just really tired. She had to be woken up after 3 hours of naptime with everyone else playing around her. At dinner time - at the opportune moment after she donned a bib, but before her food was placed infront of her - she yacked again.

Great. Now this is something to worry about.

This was followed with a fever and runny nose, which has now morphed into a higher fever and snot encrusted face this morning.

Oh, and did I mention that I am taking Grace back to Chicago with me on Saturday? To a parade with a predicted high temperature of 45 degrees? That is so not 70 degrees her body (and mine) is now expecting.

Damn weather. *smack*

Super Sunday's

Gracie’s tendency towards vomit is a fascinating, disgusting thing.

She pukes a lot. You know this. I talk about it often because, at times, it feels like an all encompassing part of my dynamic with here. It’s a fear that lurks in the back of my head.

Her top three reasons for yacking are: illness, distress/crying and not chewing her food. The last one is the semi-preventable topic that I can’t seem to semi-prevent.

Now *fade into* Superbowl Sunday.

Mmmm … snacks galore. Meatballs, pizza bread, fruit, cheese … it was a baby bonanza fueled by the energy of being in the house of folks born, and somewhat raised, in Pittsburgh.

I guess I just didn’t realize how much Grace was eating. And just how big the pieces were that she was shoving into her mouth.

I kept giving them to her, so I guess I should have, but it was a party. I was talking. Kids were running around. Matt was off in the basement playing Wii, so the supervision consisted of my lax eye and a 10 year old.

About two hours into the party, I chased Grace into the kitchen. She’d reached the wall and could go no further. You could see the flint in her eye, she was not about to be caught. She was not having any diaper changes.

But then, the look changed. I saw the flash. I knew the flash well.

Oh no, Gracie don’t!

Too late. (Not that I really believed my plea would make any difference.)

Blaahh. Blaahh. Blaahh. (She is just like me. I think she is inheriting my OCD. She like things in three’s.)

Now there is all 2 hours worth of said snacks, along with 2 sippy cups of milk, all over their party-prepped kitchen floor and throw rug beneath the sink.

Ahhh…. Michelle? Ummm, I’m so sorry, but my daughter just threw up all over you floor. I think you’ll want to wash this rug.

She gets it. She totally understands. She’s got three kids.

But still. Please, please, PLEASE stop puking Gracie. You have molars! Use them!

Butterflies

I’ve always considered the flu to be a practical version of the butterfly effect. If you think about it, there are similarities.

Someone, WAY over THERE gets the bug from someone else even more WAY over THERE. A random dude doesn't wash their hands, the wind blows in a funny direction, a cricket chirps in a forest....

Then someone that is in my vicinity touches my door or sneezes or coughs or just breathes and there is the evil bug, just floating around.

So I walk through the cloud of ick and come into contact with the dreaded thing. Micro-particles just floating in seemingly harmless environments. And it sticks to me.

What do I then do? No amount of neurotic hand washing and sticking, burning sanitizer gel or even shots can save you if the F-L-U really wants to come in.

It came a knockin’.

Grace was sent home from daycare on Tuesday. I received two panicked phone calls in the span of 20 minutes. I guess you would be panicking too if you had to clean up the entire contents of a child’s stomach off the floor. Especially if it’s not your kid.

So we were banned. The rule is 3 runny poops or 2 yacks and your home for 24 hours.

I picked Gracie up mid-nap from daycare. She immediately fell asleep in the car. I woke her again to bring her inside the house when we got home and she immediately fell asleep in her bed again.

Hmmm. That’s not normal.

She took a conglomerate 4 hr nap. That is so not normal.

Two hours later she was ready for bed (an hour early) and preceded to sleep for 13 hours.

So, so, so not normal. Let’s call the Doc.

It’s confirmed. It’s the flu and only the flu, so your going to just have to wait it out. Umm, and as for your trip to Chicago Thursday morning, I wouldn’t plan on it. Not unless your all want to be miserable, infect everyone around you and pray that she doesn’t vomit or have explosive poop on the plane.

Good point Doc. Throw in the fact that my dad is immune depressed and Matt’s dad just got out of the hospital, let’s consider the visit cancelled.

Shortly after the doctor’s visit, we developed a one diaper an hour routine.

With another 13 hour bedtime, that was the making of quite the mess come morning. (1 diaper x 13 hours – actually changing the diaper in that 13 hours = EWW.) Throw in a little more yack just for good measure and that had been our last 3 days.

(I do have to admit though, I catagorized this as a milestone. Gracie's first flu. To celebrate lets all go wash our hands.)

How is your week going? Watch out for butterflies this time of year.

Nighttiming

Things went downhill yesterday, just like the roll of stones or the flow of water. Except our version of water was slightly digested and smelled like feta cheese.

I 6:40 pm last night I set about our nighttime routine.

- 8 oz bottle √
- tomorrows clothes √
- jammies √
- bath water warming up √

Then my mom called. Grace wasn’t actually in the bath yet, so we ran to see who was calling. Sorry Grams. Not answering.

Gracie gets in the bath and starts that play routine.

Phone rings again. What the ????. Not answering. It is now 6:50. People know better.

We get out of the bath, get dressed and start the bottle. Lights are off. Sleep Sheep rain is pattering. Humidifier is blowing.

7:00 phone rings again. Son of a !!!!!. Gracie sucks down the last drop of her bottle and starts looking around.

We go downstairs to make another bottle. 6oz should be more than enough. And the message light is blinking on the phone.

Back upstairs we settle back in and Gracie starts working on bottle #2. At 7:10 the phone rings again. ####. Grace looks around for a second but is getting sleepy.

Two seconds later my cell phone starts to ring. The dog barks. Gracie sits up in my lap. #### #### ####!

She settles back down quickly, entire bottle gone, and I rock her to sleep.

I am amazed that she drank a new record amount of 14 oz in one sitting and am thinking about how I have to call Matt to announce this big news, once I yell at all the people who have been calling.

We get up and as I stand Gracie opens her eyes and smiles at me.

Then she gives me the look. Uh Oh.

BLAH…..

Yack. All over my neck, shirt, pants. We start to move towards the bathroom.

BLAH…..

Yack. All over the hall carpet. We take the final steps into the bathroom.

BLAH…..

Yack. All over the mirror and sink.

I sit her on the counter with her feet in the sink.

BLAH…..

Yack. All over her footie pajamas.

I strip off all our clothes and wipe down my shaking baby. I curse and kick at Lil’ Rick, who is in the process of eating the carpet yack.

Once in new jammies, Gracie fell asleep quickly. I on the other hand, had the joys of parenting to attend to.

And a lot of phone calls to return.

Single Parenting

Matt flew to Green Bay Saturday morning so first news from the Midwest:

1) Matt is charmed. We bought a 1st class ticket for the flight because it was only $15 more than a regular old chump ticket, and hey, if your going to pay that much money you might as well get some snacks. Well, Matt got a whole lot more than that.

Being the chatty, superstar, sports aficionado that he is, Matt had the good fortune of being seated next to a referee flying out to officiate the Green Bay v Houston game. Over the course of a few hours and a few drinks, they apparently become best friends and he’s offered network seats to the game. Which he of course has to turn down. So business cards are exchanged and now Matt has an in for free awesome tickets to games he wants to go to. PLUS he was served MIXED drinks BEFORE the plane even left the runway.

2) While again, not related to PaPa’s health, his brother Rob, bought a Lotto Scratcher ticket on a whim Friday. Won $10,000. No big deal.

3) PaPa is making improvements. As of this morning, they plan to try and take him off the ventilator. The latest chest X-Rays show the same amount of infection in his lungs, but the respiratory sounds are getting much clearer. The same X-Rays are also indicating that there may be some heart issues, but nothing that they are concerned about right now. The bad news is the doctors are saying that he will be lucky if he’s out in two weeks…. So if you do the math, he might be spending Christmas in the hospital.

On the upside, Matt & Jeanine raided PaPa’s house and cleared out the offending cigars. They were actually able to collect all unopened packages of Swisher’s and return them at the local grocery store. You’ve got to love small towns at times.

Given everything, Gracie and I had a fairly good weekend. Well, except for a few highlights:

1) Gracie is always on the move. I am getting to the point where if I know the baby gate is up on the stairs I just let her run loose and play. We are pretty much baby-proofed. Unless it gets quiet. If more than a minute goes by without noise I know she is into something she’s not supposed to be in.

Case in point, she had stood up and grabbed a glass ornament that I thought was out of reach on the tree. While the glass was still blessedly in tact, she was scraping the glitter swirls off the ornament with her teeth. Although I will admit, the glitter all over her face/mouth/tongue was pretty funny.

2) Saturday night my body decided to kick me one more time. Thankfully, my version of the flu only lasted a few hours, and they were nighttime hours.

I will always remember when I was checked into the hospital to be induced into labor with Grace, my OB asked me what I had eaten for dinner. “Oh I was good. I kept it light. I just had a salad for dinner!”

She looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, probably not the best choice. If you have a second kid remember this – Only eat things that you won’t mind seeing come back up. Oatmeal is my favorite. Let’s just hope you keep it all down through your labor.”

I always thought that was a crazy thing to say. As I was revisiting my healthy salad on Saturday night / Sunday morning those words kept echoing in my head.

3) Sunday morning we went to the mall to Christmas shop. The 20 minute nap she took on the way home completely destroyed her sleep schedule for that afternoon. Normally she sleeps from 11:30 – 2:00. Yesterday, it was 1:15 to 1:45. I apparently added insult to the injury of making her nap by having Tim & Jen over to watch the Bears game when she woke up. This lead to very cranky pants for the following 45 minutes.

Given everything though, I think my first weekend of single parenting went smoothly. At least there was no blood to accompany either of our tears.

Do You Really Want to Know?

During the course of my work day, someone will inevitably ask how my evening was.

Do I tell the truth? Do they REALLY want to know?

Do I say, “Crappy. We were sitting at the kitchen table, eating fantastic homemade butternut squash chowder and French bread, when Gracie projectile vomited on me. It was great. I could identify the bits of fruit she ate for lunch. I think she needs to learn how to chew better.”?

Or do I say, “It was fine, how was yours?”?

I know the answer is number two, but still, the memory is still to fresh. The smell of puke is still in my nostrils. I even re-ran the washing machine this morning because I swear I could still smell the funk in the machine.

The one good thing about it was during my scrubbing of the tile on our floor, I realized how dirty it is. The cleaning lady HAS NOT been doing her job. Which means that it will soon become my job again.

OK, maybe that wasn't a good discovery. Ignorance is sometimes bliss. Especially when it means I don't have to vacuum or dust.

At least we will be spending $100 less a month.