Great Things!

Indeed!

Mozart turned three this weekend and we had his Fire Truck party as requested.  We'd planned on having the party at home, per usual, but found out Home Depot hosts birthday party's a couple weeks ago, so I called 'em up to see if they were available when we wanted and the only thing we needed to do was pick the theme.

Seriously.  That's all we had to do.  I said fire trucks and she said, "Cool, would a Rescue Plane craft be ok?"  Uh, yeah! Cool!  I went back to Mozart and he then changed his theme to be "Rescue vehicles with fire trucks."    This was a good because, while I'm sure I could have fashioned a fire truck cake, I really didn't want to poison the children with a Red Dye #40 cake.  Mozart agreed to a "fire rescue scene" for his cake.  So I got to work.  I used the same recipe as his owl cake, which, admittedly takes a bit longer than your typical non-freezer affairs, but it was just so good that every time I made a cake TW would say, "Oh, yes, she's an excellent cook, but nothing will top the OWL CAKE."  So yeah.  Had to.  Not because it was asked of me, but because I gotta show what I got from time to time :D

So Thursday night I got to work.  Went shopping.  Spent entirely to much money.  Changed the landscape of the cake from round to square pans because they didn't sell the sizes I needed in round locally.  Went to a second store for food dye (I threw it all away last year because I was disgusted with the chemical dyes, but then I couldn't come up with viable options for real colors, so I caved). Baked three cakes and a batch of cupcakes.  Set them to the freezer. Made the frosting.  Made the daycare edition cupcakes for his party the next day:
 

And put the crumb coat on the main cake:


....before falling into bed.  I went to my job as any zombie does the next day and set to work when I got home.  First another batch of cream cheese frosting.  A double batch this time.  Made various colors. And set to the landscape:


I hadn't a plan for the burning building when I was in the baking process, so I ended up fashioning it out of graham crackers.  I did a second crumb coat for good measure, then applied the grass, and of course, the underground was made of Nutella.  Finally, I decorated the fire station, and put a crushed graham cracker and cocoa gravel down on the road before applying the rescue vehicles.  But all said and done, I'd say, a pretty fine Fire Rescue Scene cake:


The kids loved it (as did the adults)...


Oh.  And not so insignificantly, Home Depot does a BANG UP job on birthday parties!  This is what we were greeted with:

That's right, not only did they decorate and provide a craft, but they really went all out ~ that piece of art hanging over the chair there in front of the fire truck place mat, and under the suspended fire truck, was a hand-painted workman's apron for the little man.  Each kid got the choice of doing 1,2, or even 3 crafts (Pirate Ship, Race Car, or Trojan Horse Piggy Bank), and while they didn't actually have any Fire Rescue Plane kits left, they were able to give Mozart one that was already built.  So we did our crafts, and had a blast.  Mozart tested out the roadway for the ambulance:


And we served up the cake:


AND THEN the FIRE DEPARTMENT showed up!!!  Mozart gave all the firefighters hugs, and then got to explore the TWO trucks they brought, and THEN he, and the other kids, got to practice ACTUALLY USING the fire hose!!  It was a truly amazing day.


So all of that was Saturday.  We'd been telling Mozart for several weeks now that he needs to be potty trained when he turns three because he's not a baby anymore and that we're not going to buy any more diapers.  Despite all of that we were meeting a great deal of resistance to the whole potty training thing.

But you know what?

Sunday he got up and peed on his potty.  Put his undies on.  And stayed dry ALL DAY LONG!
Monday, he went to daycare in big boy pants, and stayed dry ALL DAY LONG! (he did wear a diaper for car transport)
Tuesday, he went to daycare in big boy pants, and stayed dry ALL DAY LONG! (without aforementioned diaper in the car)
And today he also stayed dry THE WHOLE TIME he was in big boy pants!  He did have a diaper towards the end of the day as he hadn't yet pooped (today was the 4th day), but then tonight, after MUCH ADO, he POOPED ON THE POTTY!

Yahooooo!  We are going to the pizza house tomorrow in celebration.

Fighting Chance

This arsenal is finally kicking Flu in the butt.

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.

I can breathe!

Both figuratively and literally  :)

I generally tend to get sick under three scenarios.  1) I am simply overtired and haven't been taking care of myself, 2) I have been dealt an emotional blow, or 3) when something stressful, even happy-stressful, is taking a lot of energy over a long period of time and suddenly it is over.

The first only makes sense.  If I don't get enough sleep, don't eat well, and generally don't take care of myself, what do I really expect...  The second, well, all I can say is that with every break-up that I've had and every child that left to an not-so-great situation, I got sick.  When things are out of control and it's breaking my heart, my immune system takes a blow.  It's true, often, I am up worrying or the like, and not sleeping as I should in these situations, sometimes not eating as I should, so I suppose that makes sense too - though it has happened even when I've kept my routine.  And the third, well, that's less explainable.  I feel like there is so much tension being build up and I am running on adrenaline until the big event happens - that when the even finally happens, my body lets down its defenses and lets in the germies.

And that is what happened on Wednesday.  I am elated by the election results.  I mean, I really did feel like I'd been holding my breath for the last several months, and finally, some time after the networks called it, I finally felt like I could breathe again.  When they first called it, I was unconvinced - in fact, I wished I'd been able to just go to sleep without watching any of the results come it - flashbacks to 2000 anyone...  but by 12:30 in the morning, I began to believe.  Began to relax.  And began to rejoice.  In my dreams, for I really was utterly exhausted.

While I was sleeping, the Wife remained awake and monitoring the remaining results roll in, and as she posted in the wee hours of Wednesday:

Reelected the 1st President ever who publicly supports marriage equality.
Passed marriage equality in ME in the first time by ballot initiative.
Approved marriage equality law in MD.
Approved marriage equality law in WA.
Defeated an anti-gay constitutional amendment for the 1st time in MN.
Elected the 1st openly LGBT US Senator.
Now, that's how to do an election! :D

And while I was overjoyed on waking, I couldn't really express it as I felt rather like I'd been hit by a semi. I dragged myself up and went to work nonetheless, though I admit I got little accomplished.  By the afternoon the mild headache had worsened, the stuffiness had turned into a full clogging, and I was regularly sneezing.  By evening I was a full-on faucet-face. This is not a pretty thing, people, I'll spare the details, but let's just say that nothing within my vicinity was free of germs.  I was in bed by 8:30, dosed up with Sudafed and a myriad of various herbs, tinctures and teas.  I woke feeling somewhat better, but by the time I got Mozart down to breakfast I was fairly miserable again.  I realized this when I looked up from my coffee and saw him mimicking me, head resting on hand, and groaning.  While that was way too cute, it made me understand just how bad it was.  And really, it would have been completely irresponsible to go to work and expose coworkers and clients alike to all of the germs going on.

So now here I am, wrapped up in a blanket, feeling much better than yesterday, but still trying to take it easy.  I'm looking around at the various messes that never seem to stop piling up and thinking I should do the dishes, sort through this pile or that, or clean out the fridge, and maybe I will, but for now I will finish this off and drink my tea with the knowledge that the tides are finally turning and there is hope that in the future we will be considered a bona fide family with the same rights and benefits that other families already have.