Don't eat that!!!

Today, Auggie's ECFE class had a visit from the fire marshal.  He was there to impart important fire safety and medical information.  While he remained calm and informative, I found myself spiraling into a panic.  It didn't help that I had heard the same spiel last week during Harry's class.

Last week, I came home from the lecture and buckled my kids into their chairs for lunch (see previous post for my ode to harnesses).  While they munched away happily, I flew around the kitchen reorganizing various cleaning supplies that may not have been as securely locked as they should have been.  I suppose I was convinced that if I didn't take care of those things immediately I'd be calling poison control within the hour. I had visions of my children sneaking out of their room during naptime in order to guzzle Method cleaning supplies (that wouldn't be too bad because that brand is non-toxic, right? Kidding).

It is to my great surprise, I've not had to call Poison Control yet for the boys.  However, I did spend plenty of time (and money) discussing mushrooms with the animal poison control when the dogs were younger.  For something like $90, I learned how to prep the pups for a tasty serving of hydrogen peroxide so they could run around and puke up things they shouldn't have eaten all over the yard.  Those were good times.

I try to remind myself that diaper rash creams and baby shampoos and the various lotions and sunscreen we use on the boys must be somewhat safe to consume in small doses.  Right?  (If not, please refrain from saying so.  It's too late.  My children must also drink a healthy amount of their own urine since they both find bathwater to be delicious.  There's nothing like a cocktail of shampoo and pee.  Sigh.)  Otherwise, the phone lines would be inundated with calls from parents asking whether it was okay for Tommy to have licked his hand after sticking it down his behind where diaper cream was just spread (okay, okay, Tommy is code for Auggie).

This week, our class focused more on actual fire safety.  So now I'm convinced that the 10+ smoke alarms and carbon monoxide alarms (including the ones connected to our security system) are not nearly enough for our tiny house.  We need to get some of those interconnected wireless ones.  Pronto.  I'm not sure I could convince Derek to have sprinkler systems installed, but it's worth a shot.

Apparently, I also need to work on an exit strategy from the house in case of a fire.  I can't even begin to imagine what that looks like with two toddlers and two dogs, especially since Max (our yellow lab) really should be taking some sort of anti-anxiety medication.

Oh, and I should add a fire ladder to the list of supplies that Derek needs to get from Home Depot this week (that's in addition to the lightbulbs I asked you for 2 weeks ago, sweetie).

Thankfully, I found there to be one silver lining in the fire discussion.  Despite the fact that my house seems to be in perpetual disrepair, it will apparently burn much slower if it catches fire since it's so old. Awesome.

So now I'm stuck with the following dilemma:  it's dangerous for us to go outside since we are constantly falling down and contracting various illnesses, but it's equally a threat for us to remain inside due to the possibility of fire and inappropriate ingestion.

This is when I feel like we might be much better off in a rubber room.

Buckle up for Mom's Sanity!

There’s nothing like a good harness, buckle, or seat belt.  And before you go all 50 Shades on me, I’m talking about the various restraints that manage to keep my kids from potential emergency room visits.  I’ve come to realize that the most stress-free parts of my day are when my children are safely squared away into contraptions.  So I thought this week I’d pay homage to some of those devices.

The Stroller
I am in love with my double Bob.  I’ve used it practically every single day for the last 16 months.  It’s the only stroller we have, therefore I spend a lot of time hefting it in and out of the car (and I fully count that as my weight lifting routine, along with carrying Harry).

It also turns on a dime and fits through 99% of the doors I’ve attempted to maneuver it through.  I’ve had many a nurse try to persuade me that it wasn’t going to fit through an exam room door only to thankfully prove them wrong.  (I challenge you to go to a doctor’s appointment with 2 toddlers sans stroller.  DISASTER.  I know from experience because I was feeling cocky one day.  It didn’t end well and involved the hurling of several plastic cups and chalk and resulted in an angry doctor.) 

But I do have a confession to make.  


Keep reading here: Patch blog #10

Say What?: On Navigating a Speech Disorder

This morning, Auggie asked me if we could “pay oh eh.” Even though I’m typically his most proficient interpreter, I was a bit stumped. I said, “Oh, you want to dye more eggs. Well, we already did that this weekend.” He stared at me and vehemently shook his head no and repeated, “pay oh eh.”

Okay, okay, I thought. He wants to do something with an egg. Got it: “I understand. You would like to play with the plastic eggs the Easter bunny hid.” Auggie looked at me with what now appeared to be a hint of frustration in his eyes (probably mixed with consternation) and replied “No! Pay oh eh.”

Aha! I suddenly realized what he wanted and triumphantly asked, “Hey buddy, do you want to play with the playdough eggs that were in your Easter basket?” He appeared thrilled and said, “Yes, Mommy. That’s exactly what I said the first two times.” Ha! Not quite. But he did look at me excitedly and shout “pay oh eh pay oh eh”! And thus we happily made a mess with playdough for the next half hour.

This exchange is somewhat typical of what goes on all day in our household. While there are many words and phrases that my 29-month-old can now say successfully, there are also lots of times when I feel like we’re speaking different languages.

Keep reading here: Patch blog #9

Park Peril (of the Toddler Variety)

I had big plans for my mega millions winnings, had I actually won. Well, let’s be honest...had I won the jackpot, I probably wouldn’t be writing about it. Instead, I’d be buying crazy things like jet skis and Vespas and hiring private trainers and chefs.

But I’d like to think I would still be somewhat charitable and would fund the project that I believe is most necessary to the survival of moms everywhere: FENCED-IN PLAYGROUNDS.

Let me back up and explain. First, I haven’t blogged in what feels like forever because we were decimated by winter viruses in my home. Quite frankly, it became tedious to talk about the latest illness and our umpteenth doctor’s visit with family and friends, so I certainly didn’t want to bore the masses. There was a stretch in there where we visited our clinic 8 times in 3 weeks. Another high point was bringing both boys to urgent care on a Sunday at different times during the day. We experienced RSV, croup, two rounds of stomach bugs, multiple double ear infections, several asthma flare-ups, and a fun bout with thrush.

I came away with two important thoughts: 1) I really should go back to school to become a pediatric nurse (and if I’ve said this before, then I definitely need to start the application process), and 2) My kids will never miss a day of school once they start kindergarten because their immunity will be so awesome (In my fantasy, their time at school is when I enjoy a latte after a morning at the gym. However, my husband has deigned to enlighten me that this is the point in life when I will be returning to a job that provides a paycheck. Luckily, I have a few years to sort that and him out.)

Keep reading here: Patch blog #8

New Year, New Resolutions!

Well, the holidays are over. I’m not going to fully recap what happened at our house because it was surprisingly low-key (and without major illness). We had friends and family over, and celebrated Harry’s 1st birthday on Christmas day (notice we did not name him Nicholas, Christopher, or Jesus although I swear my mom did say that any of the three would be cute when he turned up at 12:39 am on Christmas morning last year. I’m also sure she would deny that conversation ever happened).

My favorite part of the week was watching my husband persevere in putting together a train table for four hours on Christmas Eve. I was actually incredibly proud that we were able to participate in that important rite of passage in which parents get tipsy while staying up way too late assembling overpriced toys, and then barely manage to pull themselves out of bed on Christmas morning when their children have the nerve to wake up before noon.

Anyhow, enough about the past. Let’s engage in another important cliche - New Year’s resolutions. Without further ado, here are mine:

Keep reading here: Patch blog #7

Antibiotics for Everyone!

Wow. I’m suddenly aware of how long it’s been since I last posted (or since I’ve slept in on a Saturday morning). Although I’m sure I could bore you with the specifics of what I’ve been up to in the past month - how many trips I’ve made to the pediatrician, the vet, the wine store, the pediatrician, Target, the vet - I thought it would be more fun to take a trip down memory lane and revisit the highs and lows of the last four weeks.

And here they are in no particular order:

Low - Dispensing antibiotics to both kids and both dogs (more to come on that). While I found myself thankful that modern medicine allowed me to act as a Florence Nightingale to my brood, I did find it somewhat obscene that all of them needed meds at once.

High - Going to see Twilight: Breaking Dawn by myself. I snuck out and saw a 9:30 am showing on a Sunday at Southdale. That’s right. My mom argues that this is slightly odd behavior, but I’m not sure there’s anything more luxurious than seeing a movie by oneself (well, aside from a a week at a spa but since that’s not happening anytime soon...). In fact, it is much preferable to ogle Robert Pattinson without my husband sitting next to me like he did for Eclipse (all I have to say is that I was pregnant and it was our anniversary).

Keep reading here: Patch Blog #6

Halloween Pukefest

Is it over yet?

For the love of all that is spooky, are we done with Halloween?

I know I sound like the Grinch, but I deserve a break. I was the bullseye for some massive projectile vomit yesterday. Now, I know that many moms have been thrown up on by their infants and I feel for them. But I also feel for me because it wasn't the baby that threw up on me; instead, it was a 33 lb two-year-old.

Disgusting.

I should have known something was amiss when I heard Auggie crying only an hour into his nap. I went to his door and found him peering pretty pitifully over the gate. (You might recall from a few weeks back that we transitioned to the toddler rail. This random walking around the room is an unfortunate byproduct of such a switch.)

Keep reading here: Patch Blog #5