The Wednesday Whine
Well. Hmmm. How do I do this again? Little rusty. But I've been busy (I know, excuses, excuses). Luckily, no one is beating the door down wondering where I've been. Anyway, back on track. I am multi-tasking, killing two birds with one stone, I am competent, I am woman (hear me wheeze), I can bring home the bacon, da na na na.
On Wednesdays it's become a favorite pastime to visit Phantom Scribbler. And today's blog is based entirely on my loafing over there instead of working. My post to her latest Wednesday Whining session is serving double duty.
So here's my whine(s): 2 1/2 year old discovered she can hold in her poo - FOR EIGHT DAYS! (Or somewhere around there anyway.) I started working hard on her (thinking it was constipation and not sheer obstinance) Saturday or Sunday when I realized it'd been a few days since she'd had a BM. Lots of fiber, lots of prune, lots of beans, lots of grains, fruit, nuts, juices. Nothing. Then I added the old standby: crystallose (or something like that). Nothing. Suppositories? Nothing. Long talk with pediatrician and one enema later - POO ABOUNDS. Poo on the floor, poo on the tub, poo on me, poo on the baby, poo in the potty (HOORAY - first time for that - mini anti-whine), poo on Daddy, poo on the bed. It was a veritable poo-fest.
And I was supposed to be in Southern College Towne taking care of my sick mother and sister's kids while said saintly sister hosts a telethon for children with cancer.
And the baby has been running a fever for two days (I didn't notice it the first day - rotten, rotten, rotten mother) and laying in my arms like a limp dishrag, whimpering pitifully if I should chance to put her down for a second. My husband is positive it's just that her molars are coming in, but then, he was also positive that the 2 year old would poo on her own.
And I’ve got a ton of work to do and no time to read or contribute to blogs (or work out, or have an hour of me time, or take a shower or go potty by myself without accompaniment by aforementioned babies, or write on my own blog, or – the biggie – finish my morning coffee prior to some major calamity).
There. I feel better now.
On Wednesdays it's become a favorite pastime to visit Phantom Scribbler. And today's blog is based entirely on my loafing over there instead of working. My post to her latest Wednesday Whining session is serving double duty.
So here's my whine(s): 2 1/2 year old discovered she can hold in her poo - FOR EIGHT DAYS! (Or somewhere around there anyway.) I started working hard on her (thinking it was constipation and not sheer obstinance) Saturday or Sunday when I realized it'd been a few days since she'd had a BM. Lots of fiber, lots of prune, lots of beans, lots of grains, fruit, nuts, juices. Nothing. Then I added the old standby: crystallose (or something like that). Nothing. Suppositories? Nothing. Long talk with pediatrician and one enema later - POO ABOUNDS. Poo on the floor, poo on the tub, poo on me, poo on the baby, poo in the potty (HOORAY - first time for that - mini anti-whine), poo on Daddy, poo on the bed. It was a veritable poo-fest.
And I was supposed to be in Southern College Towne taking care of my sick mother and sister's kids while said saintly sister hosts a telethon for children with cancer.
And the baby has been running a fever for two days (I didn't notice it the first day - rotten, rotten, rotten mother) and laying in my arms like a limp dishrag, whimpering pitifully if I should chance to put her down for a second. My husband is positive it's just that her molars are coming in, but then, he was also positive that the 2 year old would poo on her own.
And I’ve got a ton of work to do and no time to read or contribute to blogs (or work out, or have an hour of me time, or take a shower or go potty by myself without accompaniment by aforementioned babies, or write on my own blog, or – the biggie – finish my morning coffee prior to some major calamity).
There. I feel better now.
3 Comments:
We missed you!
Sounds like a simply poo-tacular event.
Thank you, Liz. And, just a note for those of you who may be interested, I was right, Hub was wrong. Conner was not teething. She had a throat infection, or something like that, requiring antibiotics. Of course, this story sounds short, but it is complicated - like all my stories. But I'm going to just leave it as the short version....
You called me "saintly". If it wasn't so sweet for you to say such a thing, I'd laugh myself stupid. And while it stank mightily that you weren't here so I could see you and my sweetie baby girls, we got by just fine. And I probably didn't really NEED you to come. It was more like I just wanted you here to enjoy having you around.
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