Showing posts with label Kiddy Crack. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kiddy Crack. Show all posts

Toddler Times

I've been trying to make a concerted effort of to not load Mozart up with carbs for his snacks.  This is hard as he prefers carb: Biscuits, cookies, crackers, popcorn, bread, dry cereal, the list goes on...  Tonight we stopped at the store on the way home for a couple of things.  The garbage disposal broke, so TW asked me to pick something up for dinner.  Mozart overheard this and suggested pizza.  I was game.  Still had to go to the store, but pizza it is (we are waiting).  When we got home, though, Mozart said he needed a snack.  I cut up pears.  This was not his idea of a snack, and he let me know by wailing, "NO, I need bunny crack!!!"

We, of course, do not give our child crack of any kind.  Not even the bunny kind.**  And let's be clear if we were going to drug him, it would be of the tranquilizing nature. Not that we would ever think of that.  Not even now, as he continues to wail about having his crack.  Not even as he methodically takes his bowl of pears to the sink and dumped them in.  And not even as he throws himself on the floor, lamenting toddler-style, about how unfair life is and then bangs his head on the coffee table, making the screams all the more pleasant.

Sigh.



**The bunny crack he is referring too is Annie's Cheddar Bunnies 

Lazy morning.

Good Heavens, I slept until 10:46!!  I did wake up at 6 to get the Boy, but the Wife took over when he wouldn't be accommodating to continued rest.  And then I dreamed I was in the countryside in France enjoying a lovely meal with some very nice wines.  And then I dreamed I headed off to Paris for the day and learned that the hottest new style is "Homeless Chicque" - derived from having large backpacks full of seemingly everything and a blanket looped the belt - all to facilitate the ability to go all places on foot or by bicycle rather than cars.  Just when I began to dream that I was paralyzed (this happens often for me when I've slept too long), I woke up.   The Boy was watching "Charlie Brown's Christmas" and the Wife had cleared the toy corner out to make way for the tree.  We may just be tree hunting this afternoon.
 
Mozart took his last dose of Prednisone yesterday, and his is nearly himself today - can I have a YIPPEEEE!?!  He did learn some bad habits having been in a 'roid rage the past week, but it is so nice to have him back!

Mr. Personality

I started this post yesterday, but crashed before I could really even get started.  This is how far I got:
Fart. Screech. Fling. Y. dinner. Pizza box, Where'd it go? Fling. 4. Yeah-yeah-yeah! Want one - sink, no. Snake, yes.
Really, as you can see, it's just a list of reminders for me. This is usually how I thing of my blog posts before I write them out, but this time I was afraid if I didn't write it out I'd lose it. I thought it funny when I opened it up again, so thought I'd share.

Thing is, Mozart is still on those crazy meds, and while this kid has personality on any old day, it is a bit amped up when he is so wired.   I had a busy day yesterday and found myself on the daycare side of town with errands still to do on the other side of town, but not enough time before I had to collect him, so I went to get him early and take him along shopping with me.  Perhaps I should have skipped it considering his state of being, but I was determined.  We went to a couple of stored and ended with Wilson's.  They still have the old style strollers you see in department stores, but they really are from the 50's or 60's and the seat belts have long since lost buckles, etc.  After a trip up to the children's section, and Mozart standing in the thing several times, I used what was left of the seat belt to just tie him in.  So, so much safer after that!

The rest of the trip, mostly in the kitchen department, was spent trying to keep my cool and alternately hush him and apologize to other shoppers while he perfected his screech-monkey impression. And then he passed gas.  Rather loudly.  We were the only people in that corner at the moment, so I thought we got a pass.  But, oh, no.  The next several minutes were spent announcing, QUITE loudly, "FART!"  With glee.

On arrival home, he was running around without direction and just kind of bouncing off people and objects.  I decided it would be a good idea to go to the Y and let him run off his energy.  I voiced my idea and it was met with pure joy!  Course, had to have dinner first, which was a feat, but we managed to get about 4-5 bites in him.  I think there is an appetite suppressant in that stuff, and then of course, he flung the dinner to the floor.  Afterwards, while I was cleaning up, he picked a frozen pizza box from the recycling.  Very proud of himself, he announces, "Pizza!"  Then folds the box and says, "Where'd it go?!"  And continued to do this while we laughed at and with him. 

Once at the Y we went to the gym.  They've got it all set up so the Littles can run and tumble and, as long as they don't get trampled by an older kid, they probably won't hurt themselves.  This place is wonderful.  I wish it was an everyday thing, but it's only Fridays and Saturdays.  And only for an hour.  So for the next hour he ran from slide to trampoline to huge foam wedges, blocks and obstacles screaming, "Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah!!!"  And then every once in awhile, whenever counting might be appropriate, "FOUR!"  That's his favorite number, apparently.

On the way home, he was yammering on about who knows what in the back seat and then said, "I want one!"  We asked him what he wanted.  And the response was something to the effect of, "snnk", and I had no idea what that could mean.  Sounded like sink.  He said no.  No luck with asking him to say it again.  I asked him was it a snake.  "Yes!"  Oh, Boy. 

A new cycle begins.

And so Mercury is finally out of Retrograde.  I'm no astrology buff, but I gotta say, with the last couple months we've had, this is a HUGE relief.  I don't know what this new cycle is, but I'm already looking forward to it.

Mercury came out of Retrograde with a bang, though.  Mozart hadn't been feeling well for about a week and woke up on Sunday not quite himself.  I'm not one to overreact with kid-stuff anymore.  Poor Mozart - they say that after the first kid, parents tend not to freak out about the little stuff anymore.  And by the third kid, a parent may not think to take their kid with a  fractured arm to the hospital (this happened to the Wife - she reports having to "cry in my bed for hours before she eventually took me").  Well, having been foster parents, we don't overreact about kid stuff, and in that department we might have what you call the Duggar Syndrome (just now named after that family with insanely-crazy and ever-growing numbers of children), after having had 17 kids through the house. 

So, yeah, he was sick on Sunday.  I noticed it in the morning when he slept until 8:30am (what!?!, and YAHOO!!, and, um, wow, that NEVER happened before).  Then he was wheezy and raspy and breathing kinda quick.  He was running around like usual most of the time, but then would poop out and get clingy.  After nap, instead of running about and playing he crawled up on the couch and just lay there like a tired old man.  I should have been alarmed.  Instead, I took a picture.  By that night though, I started to get this nagging feeling that it might be more serious, and started to worry about him all on his own in his room by himself while we slept. 

I'd recently heard about RSV and how dangerous it could be (somehow I missed the hype about it when we were foster parents), and thought to look it up.  Well, yeah, the website said this:
Call the doctor immediately if he has one or more of the following symptoms:
  • Labored or fast breathing (faster than 40 breaths per minute when not crying), flaring nostrils, the rib cage expanding more than usual with each breath, wheezing, grunting when breathing
  • A cough that's getting worse after the first few days
  • Difficulty feeding
  • Bluish lips or fingernails
He was still eating and his color was good, but that first bullet up there had me alarmed (um, finally!) because I counted his breathing at 59 per minute and I think they had been faster earlier in the day, and he was definitely using a lot of muscles to breathe, and he was wheezing and sometimes grunting.  I called the pediatrician and the on-call didn't even let me get past saying how fast he was breathing, she just said, "Go, now, to the ER." 

So we did.  His respirations were 66 (much to high) and his oxygen levels were 92 (too low).   They gave him Albuterol and a chest x-ray* and five hours later, after some talk of him not being where they'd like to see him yet with his oxygen levels, we were discharged with diagnoses of "acute asthma attack" and "bronchiolitis, possibly caused by RSV", nebulizer for more Albuterol treatments and an antibiotic.  They said to give him the neb treatment when we got home and every four hours if he needed it, but that we shouldn't wake him because he'll wake up if he needs a treatment. 

Well, he woke up two hours later.  Definitely needing another treatment. The Duggar Syndrome was now completely gone and replaced by Frantic First Mommy Syndrome.  Thankfully, I had enough sense to call the ER, rather than just taking him back for another $100, and they said he could really have it every two hours, but if it was any less than that or if the treatment didn't work, then we did need to take him back in. 

Somehow we made it through the night, and I stayed home with him in a sleepless/stupefied state.  Took him into his regular pedi and they did the RSV test there and a script for Prednisone to help the Albuterol work** because it was still not working as well as he'd have liked.  The pedi is not giving him a diagnosis of Asthma - yet - because this is only his 2nd episode of weird respiratory stuff.  The test for RSV came back negative today.  This is a huge relief, in a way, but also begs the question of why he had such a problem.  The pedi says that it could be asthma - I have the exercise induced kind - and also, because I took so much Tylenol during my pregnancy with Mozart (seriously, three times a day, every day for the last two trimesters, didn't touch the pain) and they have recently come out with a study saying there is a link (apparently, there are other studies, but I didn't ever hear about this until after he was born!!), but he's still not ready to give the diagnosis.  

Anyhoo, we all survived, and we're ready for that new cycle now.  But a couple things of note:
* A baby chest x-ray is a horrible thing.  They have this plastic contraption that you have to stick the baby in, with his hands over head, squish him in, strap his head in, while he screams.  The respiratory therapist gave us a head's up, thank goodness, cause I'd have been freaked if I just went in there without warning.
** Albuterol is kiddy speed.  Add Prednisone and you have kiddy crack.  Mozart is generally a typical 20 month old.  Usually very mellow, with little bouts of tantrums.  This kid is currently a maniac.  He is crawling out of his skin.  He tried to flip the coffee table for gits and shiggles.