**Warning: this post contains material that might gross you out.
Michael had to work during Easter weekend so I decided to drive to my parents' house for a little Easter vacation with the kids. It was filled with lots of family and friend festivities and lots of fun!
...until the night after Easter.
Around 3:00 Morgan woke up and started flopping around in bed. I kept poking her and telling her to go back to sleep. Then she covered her mouth and started dry heaving so I grabbed her and jumped out of bed running towards the bathroom and as soon as I stepped in the door she exploded. It hit the bathroom tile and splashed EVERYWHERE. Then I slid in it. Then she exploded again. I dropped her in front of the toilet where she threw up on the lid, then lifted the lid where she threw up on the seat, then lifted the seat where she threw up all around the toilet. She had a peanut butter sandwich and milk for a late dinner and way too much water so the entire bathroom floor was covered in a watery peanut buttery layer of vomit. I yelled for my mom to come help and she jumped out of bed screaming, which made my dad jump out of bed and grab his shotgun, and Jack wakes up from all the commotion and starts screaming. I strip Morgan down and run a bath, slipping all over the disgusting wet floor with every step I take, and yell for my mom to please bring me something to start cleaning with. She is so disoriented at being awakened in the middle of the night to deal with a puking child and screaming baby. She runs downstairs and returns with a container of baby wipes and a bottle of Woolite. The best part? I didn't have my glasses on so I had no idea what I was attempting to clean with. I started spraying down the floor and opened the wipes...and after pulling out two wipes, the container was empty. So basically I could clean about one tile. My mom finally shows up with an armful of what we refer to as 'hair color towels' so I can really start scrubbing. Poor Morgan is shivering in the bathtub, dry heaving into a cup, watching me slide around and clean the bathroom with Woolite. I step into the tub to wash off my feet, dry her off and send her out of the bathroom, and finally get my glasses...and that's when I realize that I'm cleaning the bathroom with carpet cleaner. I found the bathroom cleaner and started over and Morgan walks down the hallway wearing Wonder Woman underwear and says 'I'm not sick anymore!' and I can hear Jack laughing from his room, so at least the kids were happy. But it was 4am and I was dry heaving from the smell of peanut butter vomit and internally hexing any possible culprit that might have shared their germs with my children over our busy weekend. I made Morgan a little nest of old towels and sheets in the floor (I'm a firm believer that sick children do not belong in bed or on furniture) and rubbed her back until she went to sleep. Then I sent my poor mom back to bed and rocked Jack to sleep. Sometime around 5:30 I finally went to sleep and thank goodness the rest of the night was uneventful, until Jack woke up at 8:00 and I could hear him pooping. I was so tired and all I could think was 'I'm so over cleaning up body functions...'
How is Morgan? Fine. Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled that she's fine so far, but it's so frustrating to go through all of that and not even know what caused it. Was it a virus? Something she ate/drank? The fact that Baby Jesus grew up and died and came back from the dead blew her mind? No idea. But she woke up this morning, grabbed a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos, and ran in circles singing 'bad kitty bad kitty, what you gonna do, what you gonna do when they come for you..'
Soooo....wish me luck tonight....I will have the bathroom cleaner out just in case...
Monday, April 1, 2013
Sunday, March 24, 2013
shopping expedition
'I'm feeling bloggy...' I say to Michael who raises one eyebrow at me. 'Get it? Instead of 'I'm feeling froggy' 'I'm feeling bloggy'....I giggle at my own awesomeness even though it's a tough crowd from my couch.
This past week was spring break for my mom, who is a Kindergarten teacher 'back home.' So she decided to spend 4 nights in my crazy world. One of these days we took the kids to the Tanger Outlets in Washington PA, which are conveniently located about an hour from my house.
Shopping.
With a 4 year old and 8 month old.
In an 'outdoor' shopping center.
In 30 degree northern weather.
Yep. It was epic.
It takes about 4 hours to get myself and the 2 kids ready. Okay...I'm exaggerating. It only takes 3 hours. I have to feed everybody. Then everybody has to potty. Then I have to dress everybody. Then everybody has to potty again. Then somebody slobbers, pukes, spills, poops, etc. on their clothes so we have to start over. I have to make sure I have everything I need in the diaper bag...then recheck what I've packed...and I still usually end up forgetting something (like a bottle for Jack, which is traumatic for everyone involved). Then I have get shoes and coats on everybody. Then we have to potty again (don't judge me, I've had 2 kids...my bladder is dysfunctional). Then get everybody strapped into their car seats. Then run back in house to grab something forgotten. Then dig the GPS out from under the seat, scrape off the dried out chicken nugget, mutter a few explicits under your breath when the address you type in won't work, say a little prayer, and leave.
About halfway there, Morgan starts saying she has to potty, and that her stomach needs food in it, despite the fact that before you left the house she insisted she was not hungry and did not need to potty. We were on a two lane road that has zero spots to go to the restroom. Not even a shady little bar (hey, I would rather her go in a bar urinal than in her booster seat). Finally after one last 'I'm about to pee pee in my potty pants' we arrive in civilization and I send my mom in to a McDonald's with Morgan while I dig boogers out of Jack's nose with a diaper wipe, making him scream so loud that passerbys stare at me like I'm stabbing him with toothpicks.
Finally we get back on the road...and literally ten minutes later arrive at the outlets. I was so irritated that Morgan couldn't wait. The kid can usually last the 3.5 hour trip to visit my parents without having to stop once. But whatever. Children are God's gift to test parents' patience.
We find a parking spot somewhat close tot he nearest entrance and while unloading children and gear are almost blown away by what feels like -90 degree winds. My mom immediately starts hissing 'Doesn't the sun EVER shine here? Does it ALWAYS have to be so bloomin' cold?' which sends Morgan into a 'I'm soooooo coooooold' tizzy as I'm trying to get the stupid stroller unfolded and cram diaper bag and chubby baby into it.
We immediately go eat. My biggest complaint about the outlets...there's no good food. The choices were Subway (bleh), 'mall' type pizza (meh), or really questionable 'Chinese' (neh). The kids were angels while we ate.
Then we went to the first store.
I think boys are just born with an allergy to department stores. I'm not sure my dad and brothers have been inside a mall within the past five years. My husband avoids all shopping experiences unless it involves a trip to Lowe's. My son is no exception. Jack does not enjoy shopping. He loves going out to eat. But take him into a store and Happy Fat Boy turns into Sir Crankypants. Morgan LOVES to shop. She loves clothes. She loves trying them on. She loves buying them. She loves wearing them. I guess the fact that Jack screams whenever we dress him should be a clue as to how he feels about clothing and shopping.
By the 2nd store Jack is crying. And not just a 'I'm not happy' cry. More of a 'I am going to turn purple and scream until I burst a vessel in my head' cry that makes people stare at him and then at me, judging my parenting skills as I hurriedly try to dig through a rack of shirts looking for his size while throwing random toys and things at him trying to keep him quiet. At one point I even took off his shoe and gave it to him to gnaw on. My mom took pity on him and talked me into getting him out of the stroller. 'I will just carry him' she says. I chuckle to myself as I push the stroller full of shopping bags and hold Morgan's hand. Jack weighed 25 pounds at his 8 month appointment nearly a month ago. After about 3 minutes I stop and look back to check on my mom, who is shuffling her feet and breathing heavily, heading towards the nearest bench muttering 'Good Lord son you're heavy!'
hahahahahahahaha
So we take a break...in a bathroom. It had a little room with a diaper changing station and 2 rocking chairs. Mom decided to stay there with Jack while Morgan and I checked out other stores. In Gymboree Morgan was trying to talk her way into getting a dress...'I KNOW I have an Easter dress already mom, but this can be my HOME dress and the other one can be my CHURCH dress, deal?' when I hear somebody say my name and I turn to see a girl I graduated high school with and her mother in the store! We chatted for a few minutes then ended up going to find my mom and Jack...the six of us hanging out in the bathroom, catching up on life, with the random smells of what happens after people eat bad Chinese food floating around us.
Mom and I decide to continue our shopping adventure and put Jack back into the stroller. By this point he's exhausted and needs a nap but wants his comfy bed, not his stroller.
I mean seriously, he's an awesome baby. AT HOME.
Sigh.
So while I'm running around inside the Ralph Lauren outlet trying to piece together something for him to wear for Easter, mom is walking around in the cold trying to encourage him to fall asleep in his stroller. As I'm checking out she comes into the store saying 'I can't fell my hands...' and I notice Jack is asleep, or has frozen to death. Either way, he's quiet.
We decide to take a little snack break. Morgan and I hit the pretzel place for a cinnamon sugar pretzel while mom goes to a coffee store and takes the sleeping-possibly-frozen-to-death baby with her.
Cinnamon sugar pretzels are delicious.
And extremely messy.
Oh my goodness.
And my mom had the diaper bag with the baby wipes. And the pretzel place had no restroom so I had no sink to wash off Morgan's sticky crusty hands. I basically had to pick her up and shake her to get all of the crumbles to fall out of her hair and clothing. Some of it went down inside my boot and cleaning it out from between my toes was as fun as the time I relished in eating a Doritos Locos taco in the car while sitting in the parking lot of Joann Fabric, enjoying the peace and quiet of running errands with no children, and on the 2nd bite the entire taco fell apart and sour cream fell into my shoe. I now have a sour cream stain in the leather of the inside of my favorite pair of Toms.
Morgan and I sought out the other half of our shopping party in the coffee shop, where Morgan collapsed onto a leather chair proclaiming to be exhausted. But I wasn't finished! I have been trapped inside basically all winter, and I had shopping to do! So I left my mom and kids hanging out in the coffee shop and tried to 'speed shop' the entire complex, buying Michael a pair of pants, looking for a certain type of boots for me, searching for the missing pieces to Jack's Easter ensemble (why is it so hard to find cute stuff for baby boys to wear? Morgan picked out her adorable dress in about ten minutes). I stopped by in to check on mom and the kids and lured Morgan to come with me, to give my mom a little break. I think said something along the lines of 'Come on Morgan let's go find toys' because in each store Morgan loudly stated 'awwwww MAN there's just more clothes in here, I'm so over clothes, where's the toys? I need a Tiana Barbie!!!!' At one point I'm literally running while holding her (okay...more like trotting...or walking fast with a bounce). The poor kid was exhausted, but weighs 40 pounds. People are staring at me, wondering why a chubby girl is running around with a small child. Had it not been for the fact Morgan was laughing hysterical over me making strange noises (something along the lines of a camel with asthma) I think somebody would have phoned the police and put out an Amber alert. It also helped when Morgan loudly announced 'Mommy your boobies are hanging out, here let me cover them for you' claiming me as her mother as she pulled my sweater jacket over my v-neck shirt, which apparently revealed more than my normal 'mommy attire' (a stained over sized Marshall shirt...)
I finally realized it was 7:00 and time for Michael to get off work. We had been 'shopping' for 6 hours. I shoved all of our bags into the stroller and grabbed Jack to carry to the car. Lawwwd have mercy that boy IS a chunk. Especially after jogging while carrying a child even heavier. Plus it was getting dark and getting even colder and my mom is hissing at me over the fact that Jack's jacket didn't have a hood and 'oh my gosh I can't BELIEVE you make crochet hats and your poor baby doesn't even HAVE one!' ...which he DOES have one but it's that one thing I forgot...hey, it was better than forgetting the bottle again!! I threw a cloth diaper over his head which encouraged my mom to say things like 'poor kid with a diaper on his head' which made me look around for a kid wearing Huggies on their noggin but then I realized she was talking about MY kid...
Shew.
We made it back home and dumped out all of the bags to admire (and remind ourselves of what we bought) and put on a little fashion show for Michael (which mostly consisted of cramming Jack into his Easter outfit to make sure it fit, and yes he screamed the entire time). And then I washed all of our new goodies and Jack's navy blue vest bled all over my new coral tank top and Morgan's new coral leggings (curse you Ralph Lauren navy blue...) but now everything is put away and waiting for warmer weather so that we can venture out of the house again...
and by the way, it's snowing right now.
and I really want a Doritos Locos taco.
This past week was spring break for my mom, who is a Kindergarten teacher 'back home.' So she decided to spend 4 nights in my crazy world. One of these days we took the kids to the Tanger Outlets in Washington PA, which are conveniently located about an hour from my house.
Shopping.
With a 4 year old and 8 month old.
In an 'outdoor' shopping center.
In 30 degree northern weather.
Yep. It was epic.
It takes about 4 hours to get myself and the 2 kids ready. Okay...I'm exaggerating. It only takes 3 hours. I have to feed everybody. Then everybody has to potty. Then I have to dress everybody. Then everybody has to potty again. Then somebody slobbers, pukes, spills, poops, etc. on their clothes so we have to start over. I have to make sure I have everything I need in the diaper bag...then recheck what I've packed...and I still usually end up forgetting something (like a bottle for Jack, which is traumatic for everyone involved). Then I have get shoes and coats on everybody. Then we have to potty again (don't judge me, I've had 2 kids...my bladder is dysfunctional). Then get everybody strapped into their car seats. Then run back in house to grab something forgotten. Then dig the GPS out from under the seat, scrape off the dried out chicken nugget, mutter a few explicits under your breath when the address you type in won't work, say a little prayer, and leave.
About halfway there, Morgan starts saying she has to potty, and that her stomach needs food in it, despite the fact that before you left the house she insisted she was not hungry and did not need to potty. We were on a two lane road that has zero spots to go to the restroom. Not even a shady little bar (hey, I would rather her go in a bar urinal than in her booster seat). Finally after one last 'I'm about to pee pee in my potty pants' we arrive in civilization and I send my mom in to a McDonald's with Morgan while I dig boogers out of Jack's nose with a diaper wipe, making him scream so loud that passerbys stare at me like I'm stabbing him with toothpicks.
Finally we get back on the road...and literally ten minutes later arrive at the outlets. I was so irritated that Morgan couldn't wait. The kid can usually last the 3.5 hour trip to visit my parents without having to stop once. But whatever. Children are God's gift to test parents' patience.
We find a parking spot somewhat close tot he nearest entrance and while unloading children and gear are almost blown away by what feels like -90 degree winds. My mom immediately starts hissing 'Doesn't the sun EVER shine here? Does it ALWAYS have to be so bloomin' cold?' which sends Morgan into a 'I'm soooooo coooooold' tizzy as I'm trying to get the stupid stroller unfolded and cram diaper bag and chubby baby into it.
We immediately go eat. My biggest complaint about the outlets...there's no good food. The choices were Subway (bleh), 'mall' type pizza (meh), or really questionable 'Chinese' (neh). The kids were angels while we ate.
Then we went to the first store.
I think boys are just born with an allergy to department stores. I'm not sure my dad and brothers have been inside a mall within the past five years. My husband avoids all shopping experiences unless it involves a trip to Lowe's. My son is no exception. Jack does not enjoy shopping. He loves going out to eat. But take him into a store and Happy Fat Boy turns into Sir Crankypants. Morgan LOVES to shop. She loves clothes. She loves trying them on. She loves buying them. She loves wearing them. I guess the fact that Jack screams whenever we dress him should be a clue as to how he feels about clothing and shopping.
By the 2nd store Jack is crying. And not just a 'I'm not happy' cry. More of a 'I am going to turn purple and scream until I burst a vessel in my head' cry that makes people stare at him and then at me, judging my parenting skills as I hurriedly try to dig through a rack of shirts looking for his size while throwing random toys and things at him trying to keep him quiet. At one point I even took off his shoe and gave it to him to gnaw on. My mom took pity on him and talked me into getting him out of the stroller. 'I will just carry him' she says. I chuckle to myself as I push the stroller full of shopping bags and hold Morgan's hand. Jack weighed 25 pounds at his 8 month appointment nearly a month ago. After about 3 minutes I stop and look back to check on my mom, who is shuffling her feet and breathing heavily, heading towards the nearest bench muttering 'Good Lord son you're heavy!'
hahahahahahahaha
So we take a break...in a bathroom. It had a little room with a diaper changing station and 2 rocking chairs. Mom decided to stay there with Jack while Morgan and I checked out other stores. In Gymboree Morgan was trying to talk her way into getting a dress...'I KNOW I have an Easter dress already mom, but this can be my HOME dress and the other one can be my CHURCH dress, deal?' when I hear somebody say my name and I turn to see a girl I graduated high school with and her mother in the store! We chatted for a few minutes then ended up going to find my mom and Jack...the six of us hanging out in the bathroom, catching up on life, with the random smells of what happens after people eat bad Chinese food floating around us.
Mom and I decide to continue our shopping adventure and put Jack back into the stroller. By this point he's exhausted and needs a nap but wants his comfy bed, not his stroller.
I mean seriously, he's an awesome baby. AT HOME.
Sigh.
So while I'm running around inside the Ralph Lauren outlet trying to piece together something for him to wear for Easter, mom is walking around in the cold trying to encourage him to fall asleep in his stroller. As I'm checking out she comes into the store saying 'I can't fell my hands...' and I notice Jack is asleep, or has frozen to death. Either way, he's quiet.
We decide to take a little snack break. Morgan and I hit the pretzel place for a cinnamon sugar pretzel while mom goes to a coffee store and takes the sleeping-possibly-frozen-to-death baby with her.
Cinnamon sugar pretzels are delicious.
And extremely messy.
Oh my goodness.
And my mom had the diaper bag with the baby wipes. And the pretzel place had no restroom so I had no sink to wash off Morgan's sticky crusty hands. I basically had to pick her up and shake her to get all of the crumbles to fall out of her hair and clothing. Some of it went down inside my boot and cleaning it out from between my toes was as fun as the time I relished in eating a Doritos Locos taco in the car while sitting in the parking lot of Joann Fabric, enjoying the peace and quiet of running errands with no children, and on the 2nd bite the entire taco fell apart and sour cream fell into my shoe. I now have a sour cream stain in the leather of the inside of my favorite pair of Toms.
Morgan and I sought out the other half of our shopping party in the coffee shop, where Morgan collapsed onto a leather chair proclaiming to be exhausted. But I wasn't finished! I have been trapped inside basically all winter, and I had shopping to do! So I left my mom and kids hanging out in the coffee shop and tried to 'speed shop' the entire complex, buying Michael a pair of pants, looking for a certain type of boots for me, searching for the missing pieces to Jack's Easter ensemble (why is it so hard to find cute stuff for baby boys to wear? Morgan picked out her adorable dress in about ten minutes). I stopped by in to check on mom and the kids and lured Morgan to come with me, to give my mom a little break. I think said something along the lines of 'Come on Morgan let's go find toys' because in each store Morgan loudly stated 'awwwww MAN there's just more clothes in here, I'm so over clothes, where's the toys? I need a Tiana Barbie!!!!' At one point I'm literally running while holding her (okay...more like trotting...or walking fast with a bounce). The poor kid was exhausted, but weighs 40 pounds. People are staring at me, wondering why a chubby girl is running around with a small child. Had it not been for the fact Morgan was laughing hysterical over me making strange noises (something along the lines of a camel with asthma) I think somebody would have phoned the police and put out an Amber alert. It also helped when Morgan loudly announced 'Mommy your boobies are hanging out, here let me cover them for you' claiming me as her mother as she pulled my sweater jacket over my v-neck shirt, which apparently revealed more than my normal 'mommy attire' (a stained over sized Marshall shirt...)
I finally realized it was 7:00 and time for Michael to get off work. We had been 'shopping' for 6 hours. I shoved all of our bags into the stroller and grabbed Jack to carry to the car. Lawwwd have mercy that boy IS a chunk. Especially after jogging while carrying a child even heavier. Plus it was getting dark and getting even colder and my mom is hissing at me over the fact that Jack's jacket didn't have a hood and 'oh my gosh I can't BELIEVE you make crochet hats and your poor baby doesn't even HAVE one!' ...which he DOES have one but it's that one thing I forgot...hey, it was better than forgetting the bottle again!! I threw a cloth diaper over his head which encouraged my mom to say things like 'poor kid with a diaper on his head' which made me look around for a kid wearing Huggies on their noggin but then I realized she was talking about MY kid...
Shew.
We made it back home and dumped out all of the bags to admire (and remind ourselves of what we bought) and put on a little fashion show for Michael (which mostly consisted of cramming Jack into his Easter outfit to make sure it fit, and yes he screamed the entire time). And then I washed all of our new goodies and Jack's navy blue vest bled all over my new coral tank top and Morgan's new coral leggings (curse you Ralph Lauren navy blue...) but now everything is put away and waiting for warmer weather so that we can venture out of the house again...
and by the way, it's snowing right now.
and I really want a Doritos Locos taco.
Friday, February 22, 2013
the plague.
I've decided to hibernate until spring.
Every other status on Facebook is about coughing and/or puking.
It's the plague of 2013. People thought the world was going to end on 12-21-12 but what really happened is the aliens released new germs into our atmosphere...
We ended up with the 'chest plague' in our home. We went away for a weekend ski trip and came home with one kid coughing like a coal miner and the other kid with an earache. I made an appointment with the doctor before we even left to come home. The first night home was rough. Morgan coughed so hard that she vomited cough medication in the kitchen floor, which is much better than in bed or on the carpet, other than the fact that liquids that hit the kitchen floor splash everywhere. Cleanup aisle 7. Then Jack was up all night crying from the pain in his ear. I had to doze propped up on pillows while holding him so he could sleep upright in between crying fits. Poor baby had an ear infection so severe that Tylenol and Motrin were like giving him water.
So basically I was up all night, listening to one kid cough and the other kid cry, counting down the minutes until that doctor appointment.
And the best part? It was 11 degrees that day. And Michael had to work. So I had to drag the sick kids to the doctor. Alone. In the Arctic.
I bundled us up. Basically all you could see were the noses of the children under the layers of hats, coats, blankets...I even contemplated using those hand and feet warmer things we use for skiing but once I realized the kids were sweating I decided against it.
I circled the parking lot like a vulture looking for a spot close enough to the building and had to wait 15 minutes for an elderly lady to dig into her 20 gallon purse looking for her keys, then locate her car, then remember how to drive, before claiming her spot (after giving stink eye to other cars that slowed down anywhere near the area). I loaded myself down with purse, diaper bag, carrier with gigantic baby, and whiny toddler (yes Morgan I KNOW IT'S COLD!!!) and tumbled into the building.
And there was a wait. And by saying that, I mean the waiting room was crammed full of people. There was one chair open for me and 2 kids and all of our gear. And of course as soon as we settled in Morgan had to strip her 15 layers of warm clothes off, which I crammed into the diaper bag. Then Jack started to cry in pain so I had to drag him out of his carrier and walk around with him screaming in my ear while I tried to kindly tell Morgan no she could not play with the little boy who had snot dripping down his chin.
We waited an hour. But with a screaming baby and bored toddler it felt like 7 hours. Thank goodness a kind lady took pity on me and looked through a magazine with Morgan. After I gave her the 'mommy eye scan' searching for symptoms of illness I concluded she was there for a routine checkup and was safe to associate with. And I was grateful for her help.
It was finally our turn to see the doctor and I could hear the sigh of relief from the other people as we left the waiting room. I was tempted to turn around and stick my tongue out honestly. I mean seriously, my children only annoyed them for an hour, they annoy me 24/7!
The diagnosis for Jack was severe ear infection (duh) and possible childhood asthma for Morgan (huh?) and respiratory virus (duh). Morgan has never had a chest cold up until that point. The doctor tried her on a nebulizer treatment and told me to call and tell him if it seemed to help. Then they called in an antibiotic and took $40 and shoved us out the door. So then I had to go pick up Jack's medication...and of course we use a pharmacy that doesn't have a drive thru so I had to drag the kids back out into the cold to take them inside. While checking out Jack decides to fill his diaper and Morgan started yelling 'he's pooping mommy!' just in case anybody within 50 feet couldn't smell it.
Sigh.
The breathing treatment seemed to help Morgan, so I called the doctor to give an update and he called in a nebulizer machine with treatments. So we spent like $100 on a nebulizer machine and albuterol breathing treatments. And then the treatments caused Morgan to break out in hives on her arms and legs. And she got a fever of 102. I'm not sure if the fever was a result of allergic reaction or from being sick but she was a little 'out of her head' as my mom likes to say. She was saying random things like 'I like pink toothpaste' and 'don't forget the dragon' in her feverish haze. I was so worried. I shoved Claritin and Tylenol down her throat and decided to sleep on the couch with her just to make sure she lived through the night. Thank goodness one dose of strong antibiotic helped Jack enough to let him sleep better that night but I still only managed to get 4 hours of sleep, which is more than I got the night before.
I called the doctor about the hives and fever and he said to keep giving her the treatments along with Claritin to treat the hives. DRUG THAT KID UP! hahahaha
And then Morgan decided she didn't want to do the breathing treatments. She ran and hid and cried. I tried bribing her with everything from a trip to Disneyworld to painting her room pink. It's not like I was lying...I will take her to Disneyworld...eventually...
After she coughed so hard she threw up again, all down her nightgown and all over the kitchen floor again, Michael put her in 'time out' which the area next to our front door (random, I know), wearing only her underwear, until she agreed to do the breathing treatment which would help her stop coughing.
Dude, he's hardcore.
But it worked. She gave in.
And then Jack started coughing.
AUUUGGGHHHHHH
He had a coughing fit and was crying in the middle of the night, so we both got up to go help him. Michael tried giving him some Tylenol, then he had a coughing fit so I tried to pick him up...and in the process he threw up. All. Over. His. Crib.
So at 2:00am we are stripping down the crib. Bumper, sheets, blankets, there's really not much he missed. It was even dripping from somewhere onto the floor.
By this point we were both averaging about 4 hours of very interrupted sleep a night for several nights in a row, and Michael was working 12 hours a day and I was at home with the 2 sickos. I called the doctor back and we dragged the kids back to the doctor. At least this time I had Michael to help me. And it wasn't 11 degrees. And it was the first trip out of the house in a week. The doctor had Jack swabbed for RSV which not only cost $70, but was a ton of fun since it took me and a nurse to hold him down while another nurse shoved a huge q-tip up his nose while he turned purple and screamed. Thank goodness he didn't have RSV but he was put on the same breathing treatments as Morgan. Once Morgan saw Jack using her nebulizer she became miraculously cooperative and begged for breathing treatments.
I swear sometimes that kid has been put on this Earth to test our patience.
And then we both got sick.
*high five* germs. You win.
Michael had a terrible head cold and I got the cough. The type of cough that hardly any medication stops. I was drinking so much NyQuil that I felt drunk for about 4 hours after waking up (it ain't called Baptist Booze for nothing). I had to sleep on the couch so I wouldn't wake up the other half of the house with my nighttime coughing fits. Even the cats were giving me dirty looks. I went through half a bag of cough drops every night, falling asleep with one in my mouth and praying I wouldn't wake with it in my hair. I joined the kids during nebulizer treatments, passing it around like a bong. Puff puff pass Jack!
And then the antibiotic Jack was on started causing diaper blowouts. Liquid Augmentin is nasty stuff to begin with. It's like pineapple flavored chalk water. I have to mix it in apple juice to trick Jack into taking it. High doses of penicillin are hard on the digestive system. One morning I walked into the living room and could smell Jack before I saw him. He was sitting in the floor very still. I grabbed a diaper and the wipes and put him down on his back...and the contents of his diaper squished out the top, onto my carpet. I stared in shock. Then I cursed. Then I took a photo on my phone and texted it to Michael (who was at work) and he responded 'holy sh*t that's a lot of sh*t!' then I texted it to my brother Seth who can gut a deer with his bare hands no problem but starts dry heaving over baby body functions. I'm an awesome sister.
It was one of those messes where you just stare for a minute trying to figure out where to begin cleanup. I obviously cleaned up my kid first. Then I stuck him in his swing out of the way while I worked on the carpet. Morgan kept running in circles yelling things like 'oh my goodness Baby Jack poopied on the floor and it's ruined forever!' and 'he better not poopy on my toys!' because she takes drama to the next level. I used a roll of paper towels and a can of carpet cleaner but it did nothing for the dark stain. Michael and I both did some online research on how to clean the stain. God bless the Internet. I happened to have some Clorox 2. I opened the bottle to pour some on the stain and a huge glob came out.
Ugh.
So I spent over an hour working soapy suds up out of the carpet. On the bright side, I worked my arm muscles, and the stain came out. And the area smelled soapy clean for over a week.
The medications really helped the kids, regardless of digestive distress.
And then I got a sinus infection.
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!
The left side of my head started throbbing. Even my teeth hurt. On the bright side, the kids were recovering and were back to their normal antics of 'let's see how far we can push mommy before she runs in circles screaming.' After trying to fight it for a few days I finally broke down and called our doctor. And he wasn't in. Another doctor was covering. I hung up the phone, put my head on the table, and started sobbing. Then Morgan came over, poked me in the leg, and demanded more peanut butter. When Michael saw me on the couch with a heating pad on my face trying to ease the pain, he told me to just go to urgent care. So I burst into tears again, because our insurance has changed and urgent care type places copay went from $25 to $50, and seeing as we had just spent well over $200 on taking the kids to the doctor twice, buying antibiotics, nebulizer machine and treatments, over the counter medications, plus had some random $400 bills leftover from Jack's NICU stay show up, I didn't want to spend another penny on dealing with sickness.
But after about 10 seconds I got over it and went to get dressed to go to urgent care, dished out my $50 and had the doctor tell me 'wow that looks like it hurts' while staring up my nose. 45 minutes later I was home with a 10 day antibiotic.
And now we have all officially recovered from the plague.
I feel like the past month my life has been 'Groundhog Day Part 2'...a much less exciting version where I wake up every day to snow, Michael at work, and me being trapped in the house with sick kids.
I am so ready for spring.
Every other status on Facebook is about coughing and/or puking.
It's the plague of 2013. People thought the world was going to end on 12-21-12 but what really happened is the aliens released new germs into our atmosphere...
We ended up with the 'chest plague' in our home. We went away for a weekend ski trip and came home with one kid coughing like a coal miner and the other kid with an earache. I made an appointment with the doctor before we even left to come home. The first night home was rough. Morgan coughed so hard that she vomited cough medication in the kitchen floor, which is much better than in bed or on the carpet, other than the fact that liquids that hit the kitchen floor splash everywhere. Cleanup aisle 7. Then Jack was up all night crying from the pain in his ear. I had to doze propped up on pillows while holding him so he could sleep upright in between crying fits. Poor baby had an ear infection so severe that Tylenol and Motrin were like giving him water.
So basically I was up all night, listening to one kid cough and the other kid cry, counting down the minutes until that doctor appointment.
And the best part? It was 11 degrees that day. And Michael had to work. So I had to drag the sick kids to the doctor. Alone. In the Arctic.
I bundled us up. Basically all you could see were the noses of the children under the layers of hats, coats, blankets...I even contemplated using those hand and feet warmer things we use for skiing but once I realized the kids were sweating I decided against it.
I circled the parking lot like a vulture looking for a spot close enough to the building and had to wait 15 minutes for an elderly lady to dig into her 20 gallon purse looking for her keys, then locate her car, then remember how to drive, before claiming her spot (after giving stink eye to other cars that slowed down anywhere near the area). I loaded myself down with purse, diaper bag, carrier with gigantic baby, and whiny toddler (yes Morgan I KNOW IT'S COLD!!!) and tumbled into the building.
And there was a wait. And by saying that, I mean the waiting room was crammed full of people. There was one chair open for me and 2 kids and all of our gear. And of course as soon as we settled in Morgan had to strip her 15 layers of warm clothes off, which I crammed into the diaper bag. Then Jack started to cry in pain so I had to drag him out of his carrier and walk around with him screaming in my ear while I tried to kindly tell Morgan no she could not play with the little boy who had snot dripping down his chin.
We waited an hour. But with a screaming baby and bored toddler it felt like 7 hours. Thank goodness a kind lady took pity on me and looked through a magazine with Morgan. After I gave her the 'mommy eye scan' searching for symptoms of illness I concluded she was there for a routine checkup and was safe to associate with. And I was grateful for her help.
It was finally our turn to see the doctor and I could hear the sigh of relief from the other people as we left the waiting room. I was tempted to turn around and stick my tongue out honestly. I mean seriously, my children only annoyed them for an hour, they annoy me 24/7!
The diagnosis for Jack was severe ear infection (duh) and possible childhood asthma for Morgan (huh?) and respiratory virus (duh). Morgan has never had a chest cold up until that point. The doctor tried her on a nebulizer treatment and told me to call and tell him if it seemed to help. Then they called in an antibiotic and took $40 and shoved us out the door. So then I had to go pick up Jack's medication...and of course we use a pharmacy that doesn't have a drive thru so I had to drag the kids back out into the cold to take them inside. While checking out Jack decides to fill his diaper and Morgan started yelling 'he's pooping mommy!' just in case anybody within 50 feet couldn't smell it.
Sigh.
The breathing treatment seemed to help Morgan, so I called the doctor to give an update and he called in a nebulizer machine with treatments. So we spent like $100 on a nebulizer machine and albuterol breathing treatments. And then the treatments caused Morgan to break out in hives on her arms and legs. And she got a fever of 102. I'm not sure if the fever was a result of allergic reaction or from being sick but she was a little 'out of her head' as my mom likes to say. She was saying random things like 'I like pink toothpaste' and 'don't forget the dragon' in her feverish haze. I was so worried. I shoved Claritin and Tylenol down her throat and decided to sleep on the couch with her just to make sure she lived through the night. Thank goodness one dose of strong antibiotic helped Jack enough to let him sleep better that night but I still only managed to get 4 hours of sleep, which is more than I got the night before.
I called the doctor about the hives and fever and he said to keep giving her the treatments along with Claritin to treat the hives. DRUG THAT KID UP! hahahaha
And then Morgan decided she didn't want to do the breathing treatments. She ran and hid and cried. I tried bribing her with everything from a trip to Disneyworld to painting her room pink. It's not like I was lying...I will take her to Disneyworld...eventually...
After she coughed so hard she threw up again, all down her nightgown and all over the kitchen floor again, Michael put her in 'time out' which the area next to our front door (random, I know), wearing only her underwear, until she agreed to do the breathing treatment which would help her stop coughing.
Dude, he's hardcore.
But it worked. She gave in.
And then Jack started coughing.
AUUUGGGHHHHHH
He had a coughing fit and was crying in the middle of the night, so we both got up to go help him. Michael tried giving him some Tylenol, then he had a coughing fit so I tried to pick him up...and in the process he threw up. All. Over. His. Crib.
So at 2:00am we are stripping down the crib. Bumper, sheets, blankets, there's really not much he missed. It was even dripping from somewhere onto the floor.
By this point we were both averaging about 4 hours of very interrupted sleep a night for several nights in a row, and Michael was working 12 hours a day and I was at home with the 2 sickos. I called the doctor back and we dragged the kids back to the doctor. At least this time I had Michael to help me. And it wasn't 11 degrees. And it was the first trip out of the house in a week. The doctor had Jack swabbed for RSV which not only cost $70, but was a ton of fun since it took me and a nurse to hold him down while another nurse shoved a huge q-tip up his nose while he turned purple and screamed. Thank goodness he didn't have RSV but he was put on the same breathing treatments as Morgan. Once Morgan saw Jack using her nebulizer she became miraculously cooperative and begged for breathing treatments.
I swear sometimes that kid has been put on this Earth to test our patience.
And then we both got sick.
*high five* germs. You win.
Michael had a terrible head cold and I got the cough. The type of cough that hardly any medication stops. I was drinking so much NyQuil that I felt drunk for about 4 hours after waking up (it ain't called Baptist Booze for nothing). I had to sleep on the couch so I wouldn't wake up the other half of the house with my nighttime coughing fits. Even the cats were giving me dirty looks. I went through half a bag of cough drops every night, falling asleep with one in my mouth and praying I wouldn't wake with it in my hair. I joined the kids during nebulizer treatments, passing it around like a bong. Puff puff pass Jack!
And then the antibiotic Jack was on started causing diaper blowouts. Liquid Augmentin is nasty stuff to begin with. It's like pineapple flavored chalk water. I have to mix it in apple juice to trick Jack into taking it. High doses of penicillin are hard on the digestive system. One morning I walked into the living room and could smell Jack before I saw him. He was sitting in the floor very still. I grabbed a diaper and the wipes and put him down on his back...and the contents of his diaper squished out the top, onto my carpet. I stared in shock. Then I cursed. Then I took a photo on my phone and texted it to Michael (who was at work) and he responded 'holy sh*t that's a lot of sh*t!' then I texted it to my brother Seth who can gut a deer with his bare hands no problem but starts dry heaving over baby body functions. I'm an awesome sister.
It was one of those messes where you just stare for a minute trying to figure out where to begin cleanup. I obviously cleaned up my kid first. Then I stuck him in his swing out of the way while I worked on the carpet. Morgan kept running in circles yelling things like 'oh my goodness Baby Jack poopied on the floor and it's ruined forever!' and 'he better not poopy on my toys!' because she takes drama to the next level. I used a roll of paper towels and a can of carpet cleaner but it did nothing for the dark stain. Michael and I both did some online research on how to clean the stain. God bless the Internet. I happened to have some Clorox 2. I opened the bottle to pour some on the stain and a huge glob came out.
Ugh.
So I spent over an hour working soapy suds up out of the carpet. On the bright side, I worked my arm muscles, and the stain came out. And the area smelled soapy clean for over a week.
The medications really helped the kids, regardless of digestive distress.
And then I got a sinus infection.
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!
The left side of my head started throbbing. Even my teeth hurt. On the bright side, the kids were recovering and were back to their normal antics of 'let's see how far we can push mommy before she runs in circles screaming.' After trying to fight it for a few days I finally broke down and called our doctor. And he wasn't in. Another doctor was covering. I hung up the phone, put my head on the table, and started sobbing. Then Morgan came over, poked me in the leg, and demanded more peanut butter. When Michael saw me on the couch with a heating pad on my face trying to ease the pain, he told me to just go to urgent care. So I burst into tears again, because our insurance has changed and urgent care type places copay went from $25 to $50, and seeing as we had just spent well over $200 on taking the kids to the doctor twice, buying antibiotics, nebulizer machine and treatments, over the counter medications, plus had some random $400 bills leftover from Jack's NICU stay show up, I didn't want to spend another penny on dealing with sickness.
But after about 10 seconds I got over it and went to get dressed to go to urgent care, dished out my $50 and had the doctor tell me 'wow that looks like it hurts' while staring up my nose. 45 minutes later I was home with a 10 day antibiotic.
And now we have all officially recovered from the plague.
I feel like the past month my life has been 'Groundhog Day Part 2'...a much less exciting version where I wake up every day to snow, Michael at work, and me being trapped in the house with sick kids.
I am so ready for spring.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
yeah...I finally got peed on.
All of my mommy friends with baby boys had warned me about getting peed on. I've heard stories of pee hitting walls, faces, family pets...so I was prepared for a human sprinkler when we brought Jack home from the hospital. I changed diapers really quickly. I have the Pee Pee Teepees. But he proved to be quite the little gentleman and I have gotten really relaxed about him being nakey.
Until today.
Just this morning during our daily texts of 'ugh this is what my kids have done to drive me crazy so far today' with my closest mommy pal, she was telling me about getting peed on by her 5 month old month. I giggled. And then I bragged about Jack being a gentleman.
I sealed my doom in that final boast.
Although I'm on a strict diet, I guess the rest of my family still needs to eat, so we decided to brave the cold and snow for a grocery trip visit. I was completely dressed and ready, picked a warm outfit out for Jack, sat down in the living room floor to get him dressed, took off his diaper, stood him up because he likes standing without a diaper on....he smiled at me....and then used me as a urinal. A warm stream of pee hit me in the leg, arm, stomach. I screamed. He stopped. And then he finished peeing while Michael and Morgan watched and laughed.
Jack and I stared at each other for a few seconds. I was laughing and crying at the same time and he had a concerned look on his chubby little face, like he was trying to figure out if mommy had finally lost her mind.
I quickly put a diaper on him and assessed the damage. I had to strip off all of my clothes and find something else to wear, scrub the carpet, and clean the coffee table.
Lesson learned.
Until today.
Just this morning during our daily texts of 'ugh this is what my kids have done to drive me crazy so far today' with my closest mommy pal, she was telling me about getting peed on by her 5 month old month. I giggled. And then I bragged about Jack being a gentleman.
I sealed my doom in that final boast.
Although I'm on a strict diet, I guess the rest of my family still needs to eat, so we decided to brave the cold and snow for a grocery trip visit. I was completely dressed and ready, picked a warm outfit out for Jack, sat down in the living room floor to get him dressed, took off his diaper, stood him up because he likes standing without a diaper on....he smiled at me....and then used me as a urinal. A warm stream of pee hit me in the leg, arm, stomach. I screamed. He stopped. And then he finished peeing while Michael and Morgan watched and laughed.
Jack and I stared at each other for a few seconds. I was laughing and crying at the same time and he had a concerned look on his chubby little face, like he was trying to figure out if mommy had finally lost her mind.
I quickly put a diaper on him and assessed the damage. I had to strip off all of my clothes and find something else to wear, scrub the carpet, and clean the coffee table.
Lesson learned.
Cutest little grumpy skier ever
Wow it's been almost 2 months since I've posted? Honestly I think it's been about 2 months since I've been on my computer! We survived the holidays and our home is covered in a new layer of Fisher Price and Disney. We've gone on 2 ski trips, one of which we attempted to teach Morgan how to ski. She was so pumped and looked ADORABLE in in ski gear:
But notice the grouchy look on her face? Yeah, that sums it all up. She was excited about skis and boots and cooperated while we wrangled her into all of the gear...but as soon as she realized she was supposed to actually DO something, she was done. Fifteen minutes after trying to encourage her to let go of us and try it herself, we were calling my dad to come pick her up.
Fail.
During our second ski weekend, we asked Morgan if she wanted to ski and she said no...but stated that she wanted to ice skate. HA! I'm sure that would have been as successful as teaching her ski, plus considering the fact that it's been at least 10 years since either of us has been any sort of skating, it would have been a recipe for disaster. Or a really good video to send to AFV.
But notice the grouchy look on her face? Yeah, that sums it all up. She was excited about skis and boots and cooperated while we wrangled her into all of the gear...but as soon as she realized she was supposed to actually DO something, she was done. Fifteen minutes after trying to encourage her to let go of us and try it herself, we were calling my dad to come pick her up.
Fail.
During our second ski weekend, we asked Morgan if she wanted to ski and she said no...but stated that she wanted to ice skate. HA! I'm sure that would have been as successful as teaching her ski, plus considering the fact that it's been at least 10 years since either of us has been any sort of skating, it would have been a recipe for disaster. Or a really good video to send to AFV.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Morganisms
Morgan is a nut, but lately she's been saying some of the craziest things that are too good to not share.
On a daily basis she tells me I need to settle down. Especially this morning when I was doing a Jesco White jig to Jingle Bells at 8:30am. She stood with her hands on her hips and said in a firm voice, 'Mom, you need to settle down.'
My mom bought her a little purple Christmas tree for her bedroom and the cats are fascinated by it. They keep pawing at the ornaments. Last night she was hysterical when she thought one of the cats ate one of the ornaments and kept screaming 'you have to burp him to bring it back up!' until we found the ornament had just been knocked under her bed.
Every single day she begs me to go shopping. When I tell her we don't have any money she says 'that's okay, you have credit cards.'
Today while trying to do some online Christmas shopping, I hear 'look mommy I have a tail!' and she runs in with her pants down and a 'tail' of toilet paper tucked between her butt cheeks.
After her gymnastics class this evening I told her she had to wash her hands to get the germs off and she replied 'no thanks, I want to keep my germs, they are my friends.'
Which reminds me...last week she picked a booger that she called her best friend.
I mean seriously, is there a full moon?
I'm totally keeping a list of these things to pass out to any guy she might drag home when she's a teenager.
On a daily basis she tells me I need to settle down. Especially this morning when I was doing a Jesco White jig to Jingle Bells at 8:30am. She stood with her hands on her hips and said in a firm voice, 'Mom, you need to settle down.'
My mom bought her a little purple Christmas tree for her bedroom and the cats are fascinated by it. They keep pawing at the ornaments. Last night she was hysterical when she thought one of the cats ate one of the ornaments and kept screaming 'you have to burp him to bring it back up!' until we found the ornament had just been knocked under her bed.
Every single day she begs me to go shopping. When I tell her we don't have any money she says 'that's okay, you have credit cards.'
Today while trying to do some online Christmas shopping, I hear 'look mommy I have a tail!' and she runs in with her pants down and a 'tail' of toilet paper tucked between her butt cheeks.
After her gymnastics class this evening I told her she had to wash her hands to get the germs off and she replied 'no thanks, I want to keep my germs, they are my friends.'
Which reminds me...last week she picked a booger that she called her best friend.
I mean seriously, is there a full moon?
I'm totally keeping a list of these things to pass out to any guy she might drag home when she's a teenager.
why I refuse to be an Elf Mom
I have recently posted on Facebook about how I refuse to do Elf on the Shelf. I received a lot of feedback from other moms that claim their kids love the Elf, and I believe them! And I know my kids would love it (well Morgan might...Jack would just want to chew on him). Some moms are posting all these awesomely creative pictures with random things the Elf has done...and kudos to you Elf moms! You are a better mom than me, I admit it.
So why won't I participate?
Here's my list:
1. My brain is surrounded in a fog. I'm lucky to remember to wear pants when I go out to check the mail, much less come up with creative things for the Elf to do every single night.
2. The Elf is CREEPY! I mean seriously, that thing could cause major nightmares that would requires years of therapy to recover from. Not for my kids, for me. And my cats.
3. Although creative, and I am 190% sure kids LOVE it, I do NOT have time to do the tricks that Pinterest suggests. TP my Christmas tree? WHAT Christmas tree? We haven't even had time to purchase and decorate our tree. Marshmallow fight in the kitchen with Barbie? Seriously? After Jack blows raspberries splattering half a jar of baby food peaches across my kitchen, I am lucky to get that mess cleaned up before somebody slips and falls in it, and can't even comprehend the idea of throwing mini marshmallows all over the place and THEN having to clean that up.
4. I don't understand the purpose of the Elf. He's supposed to watch my kids and report their behavior to Santa? Well why is the Elf so bad? Can't I report HIM to Santa? Or just throw him outside and wait for my neighbor's dog to drag him off?
5. Kids aren't supposed to touch the Elf. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! Have you met my daughter? She touches EVERYTHING! ...but fruit and vegetables that is. And you're supposed to pretend to send the Elf back to the North Pole or something after he's been touched? Yeah...I would be doing that about once an hour.
6. Okay I'll admit...we haven't even done Santa for Morgan yet. We are never home on Christmas because we live away from both sets of grandparents and are on the road the entire holiday. This is the first year Morgan actually sort of understands the whole Santa concept and honestly it's a big responsibility to keep up with the lie. I can't keep up with the Elf on top of Santa. I am a horrible liar. By the time Morgan is 4 I'm sure I will accidentally forget that she actually CAN hear everything I say and will slip and say something like 'yeah we will probably be up all night playing Santa'....probably while dozing on the couch during Bubble Guppies.
7. An Elf in this house would be a raging alcoholic, I just know it. I would catch him in my freezer going after that bottle of vodka we are saving for a 'special occassion' which in mommyland means 'a night the kids are so bad you wonder why on earth you ever wanted a kid in the first place and then were stupid enough to have another one.'
8. It's just another thing to store!! Right now I am drowning in kid stuff...toys, baby gear, crayons, baby bottles...I can't handle one more thing to find a spot for in this house. Makes my left eye twitch even thinking about it.
So there ya go, call me a party pooper, a bad mom, I don't care. All of you amazing overachieving moms, please feel free to adopt my deprived children during the holidays so they can enjoy the Elf festivities!
So why won't I participate?
Here's my list:
1. My brain is surrounded in a fog. I'm lucky to remember to wear pants when I go out to check the mail, much less come up with creative things for the Elf to do every single night.
2. The Elf is CREEPY! I mean seriously, that thing could cause major nightmares that would requires years of therapy to recover from. Not for my kids, for me. And my cats.
3. Although creative, and I am 190% sure kids LOVE it, I do NOT have time to do the tricks that Pinterest suggests. TP my Christmas tree? WHAT Christmas tree? We haven't even had time to purchase and decorate our tree. Marshmallow fight in the kitchen with Barbie? Seriously? After Jack blows raspberries splattering half a jar of baby food peaches across my kitchen, I am lucky to get that mess cleaned up before somebody slips and falls in it, and can't even comprehend the idea of throwing mini marshmallows all over the place and THEN having to clean that up.
4. I don't understand the purpose of the Elf. He's supposed to watch my kids and report their behavior to Santa? Well why is the Elf so bad? Can't I report HIM to Santa? Or just throw him outside and wait for my neighbor's dog to drag him off?
5. Kids aren't supposed to touch the Elf. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! Have you met my daughter? She touches EVERYTHING! ...but fruit and vegetables that is. And you're supposed to pretend to send the Elf back to the North Pole or something after he's been touched? Yeah...I would be doing that about once an hour.
6. Okay I'll admit...we haven't even done Santa for Morgan yet. We are never home on Christmas because we live away from both sets of grandparents and are on the road the entire holiday. This is the first year Morgan actually sort of understands the whole Santa concept and honestly it's a big responsibility to keep up with the lie. I can't keep up with the Elf on top of Santa. I am a horrible liar. By the time Morgan is 4 I'm sure I will accidentally forget that she actually CAN hear everything I say and will slip and say something like 'yeah we will probably be up all night playing Santa'....probably while dozing on the couch during Bubble Guppies.
7. An Elf in this house would be a raging alcoholic, I just know it. I would catch him in my freezer going after that bottle of vodka we are saving for a 'special occassion' which in mommyland means 'a night the kids are so bad you wonder why on earth you ever wanted a kid in the first place and then were stupid enough to have another one.'
8. It's just another thing to store!! Right now I am drowning in kid stuff...toys, baby gear, crayons, baby bottles...I can't handle one more thing to find a spot for in this house. Makes my left eye twitch even thinking about it.
So there ya go, call me a party pooper, a bad mom, I don't care. All of you amazing overachieving moms, please feel free to adopt my deprived children during the holidays so they can enjoy the Elf festivities!
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