One Eye Open

This isn't titled "One Eye Open" because I'm on alert, it's because I literally have only one eye open. The other is filled with too much goop to even bother. At least I can still sort of hear through my infected ears. Thanks, Timmy.
But, of course, I can't be upset about my insignificant little pink eye infection because Timmy also has it. And he has been on quite the roller coaster the past few days.

Let's see, where to begin? Where did I leave off? Who the hell knows...basically, Monday morning I take him to the pediatrician and get him started on antibiotics. I can't see my doctor until Tuesday afternoon. Tuesday morning, Timmy woke up nearly perfect. He had slept 13 hours, he had clear eyes and less congestion and was very happy. Wonderful! I thought. I took him to my appointment at 4pm Tuesday, then went straight to Target to get my Z-pack. That's when I noticed he was starting to feel warm. As soon as we got home, I took his temperature. It was somewhere around 102 or 103. We gave him Motrin, water, and a cool bath and put him to bed. That usually does the trick for him. But then he woke up at 2:30am (Wednesday now) with a crazy fever. 105.6 degrees to be exact. I totally panicked, he was hot to the touch. We immediately gave him Motrin and another cool bath, but it didn't help much. I called his pediatrician and she said to take him to the ER.

Around 3am, we get to the ER and he is just a crying mess. They gave him Tylenol. They put him in an awful vice used to take chest x-rays of infants that seriously looked like a medieval torture device. Timmy thought so too. Eventually, he fell asleep. Around 6am, he woke up in a pool of sweat but his fever had broken.

We were discharged with instructions to re-check with his pediatrician this afternoon. He seemed totally fine and happy and fever-free through his nap time, so she told us not to bother coming in, but call if anything changed. And of course, right about when their office closed for the day, he started getting another high fever and refusing food and drink.

The thing is, we're 99% sure the high fever is due to a viral infection, so there is no magic drug the doctor can give him. I'm just trying to pump him full of liquids, get rid of his fever and make sure he gets some rest. That's actually quite hard to do with a toddler who feels shitty and doesn't understand what's going on. It's also hard to do when I feel like crap myself.

How many times can I say that I'm so thankful for this happening now before I start working before the universe stops reminding me?

Down for the Count

I went to bed at 8pm last night. All three of us have been sick since Friday, and Timmy was back to his newborn ways of waking up every few hours at night. It was awful actually, because instead of just feeding or changing him and putting him back to sleep, all I could really do was hold, rock and console him as he cried out in pain every time he coughed. It was quite the pathetic little scene actually.

So far the daycare diseases seem to strike the hardest on weekends. This time, Timmy had a horrible cough, congestion and pink eye. I had an earache and sore throat with flu-like chills and PJO is only just now getting some version of what I had.

So instead of going to daycare yesterday, we went to the doctor. He's got antibiotics and eye drops now, and I think I have those to thank for the 12+ hours he's sleeping. (It's 7:30am and he's still sleeping, possibly a new record for him!)

You know when your body gets used to waking up every few hours with a new baby and then on the rare occasions when you're away from the baby or the baby sleeps longer, you still wake up and can't fall back asleep? That was me last night. Up at 11:45, up at 3, then awake for good at 6 when PJO was getting ready for work. I should have taken NyQuil.

Somebody please tell me that we won't be sick forever.

Do as I say, not as I do

One thing on my to do list was to go to the dentist. Last time I went was October 2007(!). I know, that's gross. The thing is, I showed up at my appointment for 6 months after that, and they refused to examine me because I was pregnant. Barely pregnant. Like, I don't even think the stick I had peed on was dry yet. 6 months after that I was still pregnant. Then 6 months later I had a newborn and was studying for finals. And then....I guess my excuse had to be having no one else to watch my baby during business hours. Anyway...it had been a while. And boy did I pay for it.

I hate admitting that I don't follow the rules, so it was with great shame that I fessed up to not flossing regularly and eating sugary candy. It was with even greater shame that I got 2 fillings fixed and got 2 new ones. I also may have to get some old dental work fixed at some point soon. I wish I were a shark and could just grow a new set of teeth.

So, tonight as Timmy screamed while I tried to floss between his two bottom teeth, I swore that I would establish good routines with him and make him appreciate a healthy smile. Because I really love that smile.

Peer Pressure

Today at our little playgroup, two more moms announced they are pregnant. This brings the grand total of moms in our group with only a single child to a whopping 1; Me. If you count the mom of triplets, everyone is on to round 2 besides me. I swear just yesterday I showed up to the park, sat down on our circle of blankets and watched everyone's babies learn to crawl and steal each others' teething toys. These days, though, our playgroups consist largely of mediating fights over the pink puppy or Tonka truck and saying "no hitting your friends." That, and oooohing and aaaaahing over the new little additions.

It's hard to explain, but I feel left behind. Our conversations about potty training, transitioning to toddler beds and pre-school are now punctuated with newborn sleep schedules and nursing. Any relevant commentary I might provide on those is based on very vague recollections at this point. On the days when I feel like complaining that Timmy won't take naps at home anymore, I don't because my problems are kind of trivial compared to those of the moms with a toddler AND a newborn. There are fewer and fewer friends to join me for a mom's night out to our local restaurant for wine or go work out with.

The thing is, I'm not quite ready to jump on that bandwagon. Well, I probably would if my circumstances were different, but I just can't. I don't think it is fair or wise to purposefully start my job pregnant. I also really want to give myself at least a few months of working before we decide to give up the relatively easy life of parents to one toddler. At the same time, I don't want the gap between Timmy and a second baby to be too large. We definitely want at least two kids and if we're going to all that trouble, it would be nice for them to at least be close enough in age to be friends.

So today, I'm finally feeling ready to think about baby #2, but am unable to do anything about it for awhile. Tomorrow, I will probably go back to marveling at how so few of my school/work friends have even thought of starting a family yet. Strange how the circles you run in can affect your perspective.

The many parts of our system

Today I got one step closer to preparing for my life as a working mother...I hired a babysitter. Timmy's daycare closes everyday at 6pm. Between PJO's 50 mile commute and my commute through the 7th circle of hell LA traffic, neither one of us can guarantee we'll be there by closing time. Considering daycare charges $2 per minute if you're late, we can't exactly show up late, offer heartfelt apologies, and go on our way. So we hired someone to pick Timmy up every day, bring him home, take him to the park, read him stories, and possibly give him dinner and a bath. Presumably at least one of us will be home by 7pm to send her home, and in the worst case scenario that we can't, it's easier to impose on someone that you always pay by the hour than the daycare. I'm hopeful it will work and I like the girl who will be Timmy's chauffeur.

But this sucks. I hate that I have to put him in daycare full time and still hire someone else to cover extra hours. I hate that the measly one hour separating an impossible time to get home from a reasonable one increases our monthly childcare costs by 60%. I hate that there will be 2 places I need to speak with if I want to hear about Timmy's day. I hate that I won't be the one who gets to show up to daycare and have a smiling Timmy running to me ready to show off something he made that day.

But this is our plan. I still would rather have him at daycare than at home with a nanny because I know he needs that environment and socialization. And it is cheaper, even with the babysitter added. But I would be a lot more excited about embarking on our new lives if it were a bit more simple. 9-5 never sounded more glamorous than it does right now.

This is the Whole Point

After successfully making it through week 1 of daycare, all three of us were excited for a weekend of family time. We ended up making spur of the moment plans with friends three different times and had a great time hanging out with our cuddly toddler. At least until Saturday night.

We went to our friends new apartment for dinner and drinks. Timmy fell asleep while I held him and I transferred him to their guestroom. Around 11:30pm, he woke up and came out to get us, so we decided it was time to leave. Our heads didn't hit the pillow until 1am. Around 3:30am, I heard Timmy crying, but didn't go into his room when he calmed himself down to a whimper. But screaming ensued at 5am, so I went to check on him. The wave of vomit hit me before I even saw him. It was everywhere, in his hair, on his PJs, on every lovey and stuffed animal he owns. Maybe throwing up isn't a big deal to most parents, but he's never done it before, so it seemed just awful. I slapped on my rubber yellow gloves and managed to clean it all up while PJO gave him a bath. Then all three of us snuggled together. He acted completely fine once we woke up, so I assumed we had just given him too much junk food that day.

But today, PJO and I both caught this bug. Of course, it happened on a day where Timmy and I drove down with PJO to work, so we were stuck there all day. Luckily, I was able to make it to my mom's house, and she watched Timmy while I moaned and groaned on the couch. PJO left work early, and we decided I should drive since he had thrown up more recently than I. Somehow we made the 48 mile drive without throwing up or falling asleep.

We couldn't have asked for better behavior from Timmy. He ate his dinner while we shivered and complained about our achey bodies on the couch. He watched 2 hours of Nick Jr today because I physically couldn't sit up and entertain him. I was cursing daycare for passing on this stomach bug because I never get the flu...I'm strictly a cold and sinus infection kind of gal. But then I realized, this was the whole point of starting him in daycare early. We are giving him almost 6 weeks before I start working so he can adjust and so we can hopefully get through some of the initial daycare-germ onslaught before PJO or I will have to leave work early to pick up a sick Timmy.

So even things are happening exactly as I predicted, it still sucks. I can't even imagine how much worse it will be when I get sick and have to work. Or when all three of us are sick at the same exact time. The one thing that has surprised me is how well Timmy is adjusting to daycare. I got glowing reviews yesterday at pick-up, and then had to wake him up from his nap (at 3:15pm!!). He has never taken a nap longer than 2 hours for me, so this is sweet, sweet victory.

Who is the Real Don Draper?

Did anyone else watch Mad Men tonight and find yourself wishing Don won't take the whole "get clean, sober and back on track" thing too seriously? What would Mad Men be without the boozing at work and the womanizing? Yet, at the same time, I cringe when I see his self-destructive behavior, the ugly chicks he doesn't know in his bed and Betty looking like the one in the relationship who is holding herself together.

At least if Mad Men goes south, Glee will be back on next week.

Man Hands

So many of my friends are teachers now and I think every one of them is just perfectly cut out for the job. They're all sweet, patient, fun and cute. The other night I told my friend, who was just hired to teach biology at a new school, that her students were going to love her because I can't imagine a better person to teach them. That got me reminiscing...what did I think of my teachers at the time?

I was horrified to remember that the kids in my class made fun of my 5th grade teacher for having hairy arms. Every time she would come to your desk and lean her arms across it to examine your work, people would stare in disgust at her thickly covered forearms. And there was our AP US History teacher who was morbidly obese and would have panic attacks in class; she certainly didn't go unnoticed by mean high school kids. Then there was my freshman MUN* teacher, I'll call her Ms. P. This one I have to acknowledge my participation in the ridiculing. She was a giant, probably over 6 feet tall, and built like a linebacker. Her saccharine-sweet voice was pretty much her only feminine trait. I remember giggling with my friends as we passed doodles back and forth, depicting exaggerated and outrageous cartoons of Ms. P, often with an arrow labeling her "man hands."

I'm sure that these teachers occasionally overheard students joking or intercepted a note passed in class. I would like to think that their self-esteem wasn't forever damaged by the opinions of teenagers. But oh. my. gosh. How rude was I?!?! The ironic thing, of course, is that I ended up being tall and lanky with large hands and probably many features that kids would dramatize and label in a cartoon of me. I shudder to think what my students would say about me if I became a teacher, which is why I am very thankful I'll be entering a profession which is not known for judging its members on beauty or popularity.

*Does anyone else know what MUN stands for, or was I the only nerd that did that?

Big Bad Preschooler

Today was his official first day at preschool. No tears at drop-off. He seemed completely unaware that he was supposed to notice me telling him I was leaving him there, alone.

I stopped by Starbucks on my way home and leisurely enjoyed drinking my pumpkin spice latte while I looked over my extensive to-do-before-work-starts list. No toddler demanding my attention every 5 minutes. Toys and books magically stayed where I put them all day. It was fantastic.

Everyone keeps asking me what exactly I'm going to do all day while childless. I have some big plans; projects that have been on the back-burner for years, books that I have been dying to read, work-outs that I've been shamefully neglecting. Today I accomplished two big things. First, I cleaned out my pre-married email inbox. I send all of my non-personal email there (i.e. advertising emails and confirmations), and I don't check it regularly. Somewhere it snowballed out of control and this morning I had over 5800 unread emails. Now there are 0. That took a while. Second, I cleaned both bathrooms in my apartment. I am still smelling the fumes and bleach, but I am really hoping that's the last deep clean I'll ever do on these bathrooms. My paycheck, and therefore my cleaning lady that I shall hire, cannot come soon enough.

Anyway, back to Timmy. He did much better than I expected he would. Apparently he cried off and on, but he happily played for much of the day. He refused his lunch, but he did take a nap. I walked in when all the kids were listening to music class. He was not happy, but he was watching. Then he looked up, locked his gaze on my eyes, and proceeded to bawl. Tears gushing down his face, chest heaving. I picked him up and it took two minutes to calm him down, but then he was fine. He happily said goodbye to his teachers and was only slightly more clingy than normal the rest of the afternoon. Other than crying at bedtime tonight (which never happens anymore), I see no evidence that he had any disruption to his normal routine.

So day 1 is down. I'm pleasantly surprised at how well he did, and not at all surprised at how well I did. I honestly did not feel the slightest bit sad. That probably has something to do with the fact that I'm not actually going to work yet, I know this is just transition right now, so it's ok if he is a little bit sad in the beginning. I know he is going to love being there, and I'm glad that by the time I do start working, he'll be adjusted and happy to be there. For now, I'm going to just enjoy my me-time and try to organize my life while I still have the time and energy to do it.

Timmy didn't cooperate in posing for a picture on his first day of school, but I did manage to get him enjoying his breakfast before leaving and then testing out the little chairs and toys upon arrival.

Family Bliss

Restored and refreshed, we're all back from our trip to the Mexican Riviera. I had the best time being with my two boys for a solid week where our biggest chore everyday was getting dressed up for dinner. PJO and I were able to really enjoy being with Timmy and watching him explore and admire everything around him.

Timmy made friends with much of the staff on the ship. For some reason, he really loved running in the hallway outside our cabin, so he would squeal with delight every time we opened the door. Upon hearing that (loud) sound, all the suite attendants would pop their heads out of the rooms they were cleaning and say "Hi, Timmy" with a big smile.

PJO and I took advantage of the cruise babysitting service a few times (2 hour blocks each time), which let us sit out by the pool with drinks, go out for some wine tasting and play at the arcade. It was just enough time to fully relax and enjoy our trip toddler-free without giving up the family aspect of the vacation.

At night, Timmy slept on the pull-out couch in our room and we would often enjoy a drink and conversation on the balcony, somewhat drowned out by the sound of the waves below us. The night of our anniversary, we sailed from Mazatlan to Puerto Vallarta. Once Timmy had fallen asleep, we shared a bottle of champagne and chocolate covered strawberries while looking out on an amazing lightening storm over the ocean.

While there were several shore excursions I would have loved to do, many were not toddler friendly (swimming with the dolphins, scuba diving, zip lining), so we ended up picking pretty low-key things to do in each place...hanging out at the beach in Cabo, at a resort on the beach in Puerto Vallarta. My favorite was "Salsa, Salsa, Margarita" in Mazatlan. At a beautiful hotel on the beach, we learned how to make several types of margaritas, guacamole and six kinds of salsa. Then we learned how to salsa dance. After the lessons, we lounged at the pool and beach and watched fat American tourists zip down the water slide. Eating guacamole and drinking margaritas were pretty much my only goals for my time in Mexico and I certainly accomplished them.

It was also nice to practice my Spanish a little bit. I haven't really spoken or listened to the language since I lived in Madrid 6 years ago (!), but I was amazed at how much came right back to me when I was trying to ask directions or negotiate for souvenirs.







I guess I'm happy to be back home and getting back to real life. I swore that I would detox from alcohol a bit when I returned from vacation, but then it just so happened that all of my favorite seasonal beer (pumpkin!) was fully stocked at the grocery store. And a 6 pack of Harvest Moon was $8.99 while a 12 pack was only $10.99, so of course it only made sense to buy the 12 pack. At least winter seasonal ale is usually disgusting.