Wow. I am totally and completely stressed out. For you to understand, I need to start at the beginning.
Remember the ants? My ant invasion? I won. I killed them. Don't ask me how, but I did it. Now, for the last five or so days, I've been finding dead bodies. Everywhere. (I see dead ants. All the time.) In my cupboards, behind my sugar jar, everywhere they were. Ahh!! So, I decided on Sunday that this week would be deep clean week.
Let me tell you something about myself. I hate cleaning. HATE IT. I used to think it was a woman's honor, pride, etc etc. to be a good housekeeper, mom, cook, everything else. I have relinquished my ego. If I had the money to hire a maid and never clean again--I would. (One more thing I'd do with my billion dollars.)
And then Sunday night Asher (the baby) started throwing up. He's done this before. (warning: lots of nauseous terminology ahead.) But usually he only throws up maybe twice a month. And it's the big throw-up, the projectile vomiting, the kind that shoots out three feet and leaves his clothing untarnished. One good thing.
Sunday he started throwing up and hasn't stopped yet. I told myself yesterday, if he's still throwing up today, I'm taking him back to the doctor (we were just there a week ago). I did manage to deep clean the living room yesterday. Poor Asher. He's not sick. No fever, no runny nose, no cough, just vomit after every bit of food.
He threw up on my bed last night. Changed the blankets. Threw up on it this morning. As I'm throwing all my blankets and sheets into the washing machine, I call to make a doctor's appointment. Then we head out to the car. I'm buckling in Jacen (my 3-year-old) and he says, "Mommy! You left it open!" I look at what he's pointing at. The mirror on my visor. And there's a light on that mirror. Stomach drop. Uh-oh.
Sure enough, I get in and the car won't start. Luckily Mark's car is in the driveway next to mine, so I pull out his keys and my jumper cables and jump the car. Twenty minutes later, we're on the road. Whew! We get stopped behind the train track, to Jacen's joy and my dismay. And then I hear it. Asher. Throwing up. In his car seat.
Wow. Not good.
I strip him before I go into the doctor's office. My car stinks. I need to wash his car seat. And the doctor doesn't know what it is. He looks and acts perfectly fine. But since Asher's growth has been a cause of concern (he's in the zero percentile. Yay Asher! No one else is ever so small!), we made an appointment with the Children's Hospital in Little Rock. For a consultation in October. Not even the actual procedure. Have I mentioned that Little Rock is four hours away????
Mark will be home by then. He can help. In the meantime, they gave Asher a prescription to help the vomiting. If it doesn't help, we have to go back, b/c the poor kid has to keep some food down over the next six weeks.
I just put the kids down for a nap. I don't know that I'll get to the kitchen today. I need some me time. That means writing. Excuse me while I scream and throw pillows around the house.
Sequel Stats:
today's goal: 11,495
actual: 12,953 (+2,458)
tomorrow's goal: 13,953
14 comments:
Oh my gosh, Tamara! I'm so sorry! Your poor baby! And poor you! It's sooo hard to take care of little kids when they throw up. The stink and the laundry... it's awful! I'm sorry the doctor can't figure out what it is. I really hope it isn't anything serious--just like reflux or something. I'll remember little Asher in my prayers. :)
I am with you 100% when it comes to cleaning. I used to not mind it, but now I'd MUCH rather write or read a book. I should probably clean the shower or toilet or something during our quiet time, but then I think I would snap. I also need the ME time.
Eeeeek. Moms have my utmost respect for all you go through. It's like the world is spinning out of control and somehow you manage to hold it all together.
So sorry. Hope it's nothing serious.
LOL, Stephanie! you make me feel like supermom! there's me, holding on to the world, keeping it from entering utter chaos. If only I felt that way!
Thanks Mary!!! We need the prayers! And I'm so glad I'm not the only non-cleaner! I feel like such a failure when I go over to people's houses that are neat, clean, and organized!
O...MG! With my youngest daughter, it was diareah. I don't think I spelled that right. The doctors were giving her medication that GAVE her the runs. Her kidneys weren't working properly. Poor kid, but, holy PETE! That kid went through so many changes of clothes and diapers and...EVERYTHING was covered in plastic. GadZOOKS! That...was nasty.
But! *shooting streamers* You fought the ants and won. Yea you!!!
That's right Frankie!!! celebration! Victory over the ants! and I've got enough dead bodies for a funeral pyre!
Oh, wow, Tamara, tough tough times, let's hope you get through it in one piece! I did have to smile, though---ants, a vomiting baby, husband in basic, novel in editing with the publisher, zillions of words into your sequel---and you are agonizing over a messy house!
People used to ask me how I raised such a large family without going crazy and I usually said, "My standards aren't that high." I let SO MANY things go, i.e. housework, cooking, exercise, ironing, shopping....
Oh man Tamara, that is rough! Good luck with everything. I hope little Asher is ok!
Mandie! Good to see you, girl!
Ha ha Karen...you haven't seen just how messy my house is. I mean, doesnt' dead ant bodies lying around for days tell you something???
Oh, man. I'm so sorry you had such a rough day. I have no idea how you're doing this all sans spouse AND writing except that you must be Superwoman. Go, you!
Wow, that sucks. We had that problem with my nephew when he was a few months old, but it was because he had something stuck in his esophagus. They just went in and removed it. I hope everything is okay!
that's what I'm hoping. That it's something like that.
Oh Tamara!!! I hope that little bitty is feeling better soon. And you need a break. And a cocktail. Sending one over in a futile attempt to save those pillows.
Jenny, you are absolutely hilarious. Make sure it's a virgin cocktail. And hurry, or the pillows are gonna lose the battle.
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