Vomit and Poop

This is what it is to be a parent.

Last night Leeloo decided to see what the teapot was like - down her throat. Immediately she began to Linda Blair and projectile vomit all over the carpet. A bath, a rag, and a vacuum later, she of course was hungry again.

Tonight as she was exiting the bath she began to struggle with dad. I was out of the room but I heard this kinda dialogue:

"Daddy! Daddy!"
"What are you doing?"
"Daddeeeee"
"What? I dunno why you're squirming. Wait? Are you pooping? Oh you're pooping!"
Tears and sobs.

By the time I got in there, the chiquita was standing naked in front of dad and looked super sad. In the tub was a pile of poop. D was trying to get her back int the tub because she wasn't finished and I stopped him, opting for the potty chair instead. She sat willingly, but cried the whole time. My drama queen. I think she was shocked and embarrassed.

Poor girl - she is understanding more and more everyday but still in the in-between of language and reason. Even when she bridges the gap I have to remember that she will still probably ignore some (most) of what I say and make poor decisions.

Yes. What it is like to be a parent.




On a happy note - here are some fountain pics of her not being gross at all.

In which we have a visit to the ER

I was not a healthy child. Some of my earliest memories are of the Emergency Room in the middle of the night. I had ear infections and viruses and all sorts of things that babies/children shouldn't get. Growing up I developed an acute dislike of doctors and hospitals, not because of their service, but because of all the guess work and red tape involved. By adulthood it had to be a "bleeding from the eyes" sort of situation before I would go into be seen. Pregnancy helped to change some of my reluctance. Since I was high-risk and had a belly full of two babies I understood that doc visits were necessary. Each trip was still an annoyance, but I went knowing that I was doing the best I could for my girlies.

Parenthood has given me a whole new perspective. I didn't realize that every time I didn't want to go the hospital my folks had the fear of God in them that the worst could be wrong. I get that now. I completely must apologize for 98% of their grays.

Leeloo and I are back in Arizona for another visit. Trips here are always a jam packed. In just a couple of days we were at an airport, a church, a playground, the Y, grocery stores, target, abuelita's house and  the rental car in between. Somewhere in that Family Circus path the chiquita got sick.

Around 6pm my little girl had a fever - easily overlooked (especially with all the droolishous teething that's been going on). We went to bed early (about 8:30ish), and I watched her toss and turn more than usual. An hour or so later when I put my hand on her back to sooth her I realized that she was no longer just warm, but hot. I took her temp three times: 102.9. Entirely too high for my comfort zone. I called the Kaiser advise nurse (5 million thank-yous to my trusty partner for providing us with insurance!), and after a series of questions she told me to go to the ER. In fact, she didn't suggest, she ordered, and then she made me repeat it back so she was sure I understood. We were on our way - no more hesitation ever about going to the doc. I woke my mom up and we all headed to the University Medical Center where I was born.

At this point I wasn't too frightened. I had answered "no" to most of the nurse's questions and I was sure she was just sending us to the hospital as a precaution. Despite being sleepy and hot the chiquita was smiling and in mostly good spirits, she was even flirting with the desk crew while I was filling out paper work. The all-consuming fear and worry came when I went to give to nurse my insurance card and Leeloo went Linda Blair all over my mom and the lobby. I had no idea that her little tummy could hold so much to throw up. She was covered, her abuelita was sprayed and the furniture and floor looked like a bad roller coaster accident. Sad baby, stressed mama, sticky grandma - welcome to the ER in the middle of the night.

After her Exorcist moment, Leeloo felt a lot better. Her fever went down immediately and she was back to playing with the hospital staff. Nurses and interns and docs poked and prodded her until it was determined that she had a Upper Respiratory Infection (which I think is fancy talk for "cold"). After hours of the waiting game (and falling asleep in the room), we were discharged at 3am.

All wrapped in a blanket at 3am.

Since then we've had low fevers, runny nose and a few restless nights, but she seems better each day. Last night we even slept through the entire night. Big sigh o' relief. This mama stuff is stressful. Now on with our vacation!