I hate you Cryptosporidium

After the doctor told us on Monday Alex "just had a stomach virus" and not the dreaded "pool parasite" so many kids have become unwilling hosts of, I was relieved that we were looking at two or three days of vomiting and diarrhea and we could then return to our normal lives. 

Today marks day number six at casa de poop n puke and Alex is beginning to look emaciated.  He's always been skinny, but now you could slice cheese on his collarbones.  I called the doctor this morning to ask what the f***k was going on in my son's tummy and why the hell it wasn't going away.  I was then told that yea, he's probably got Cryptosporidiosis and there's not much we can do about it other than let it just run it's course which could take ANOTHER WEEK!  In another week, Alex will be so thin he could fall through the floorboards. 

The good news is that if he isn't vomiting, I can feed him.  Which I haven't been able to do all week, but apparently can begin doing now that it's only coming out the back end.  The bad news is, he doesn't really feel like eating anything but bread.  Which, I guess is better than nothing, but I'm desperatly holding back the urge to hold him down and stuff him with Hostess Cupcakes before he wastes away to nothing.

Update

Alex is feeling better.  YAY!

John is home sick.

My own tummy is gurgling ominously. I'm pretty sure I'll be spending my evening with the toilet one way or another.

Sick day

While I spent my weekend at a Parelli seminar (which just stoked the already burining flames of my desire to once again be a horse owner) Alex quietly contracted a stomach bug which required a trip to the doctor this morning.  He's not holding anything down, not even water or saltine crackers, and even woke up with a dry diaper, raising a huge red flag regarding dehydration.  I'm giving him little sips of gatorade every 10 minutes or so and letting him nibble a bit on crackers when the desire strikes.

I hate it when Alex is sick, any parent hates it when their child is miserable and there's nothing they can do about it.  I'm very lucky though, unlike some kids who get cranky and mean while sick (like me), Alex just gets sweet and cuddly (like his dad).  He turns into a calm little love bug who just wants to be held all day long.

One of the drawbacks of having Alex in a big boy bed

The newest entry in Alex's baby book:

Baby's first time walking in on his parents having, um... relations
August 22, 2007

Let's just say, that a tug at the sheets and a whisper of "mommy?" was not what I was hoping for immediately post coitus.  We're not really sure how long he was standing there at the foot of the bed.  Luckily it was dark and thankfully, he's still young enough to not have to do much more explaining than "don't worry sweetie, Mommy didn't hurt Daddy.  Daddy was just really happy"

What a difference a couple of months make

A few months ago I took Alex to a place called Kangaroo Zoo where there were about a dozen inflatable bounce houses and slides.  Alex had a ball.  Running around like a maniac, making sure to go on every single activity at least five times.  He went through mazes, he slid down slides, he bounced until he couldn't bounce anymore.  It was such a success, that when a friend of mine asked if we wanted to go with her and her boys this morning, I jumped at the chance.

Alex was excited to go.  All morning, I'd ask him "Are you ready to bounce?" and he'd jump up and down saying "boing boing".  I was excited.  The last few days Alex has been such a cranky pants.  Throwing tantrums at the drop of a hat and pulling his patented "boneless legs" trick when trying to take him home from the park.  He's also getting very aggressive with other kids.  Sure, he's aggressively HUGGING them, but still, unwanted hugs can cause problems.  I figured a day at Kangaroo Zoo would give him an opportunity to run wild and scream and burn off some of that excess energy.  He'd have so much fun, he wouldn't want to waste any time throwing a tantrum.

I was wrong.

It started out great, he ran for the first bounce house and "boing boing"ed happily with his buddies.  Then he got out and made a bee line for the two and under section.  That's where it all went to hell.  Kangaroo Zoo has a sectioned off area for littler kids to play.  Filled with toys and cars and big pillows and puzzles.  This is great, because Alex can go in there and play with some toys when he gets sick of getting pushed around by the bigger kids in the bounce houses.  The bad part is, when he wants to get out, he wants to take the toys with him.  This isn't allowed.  This rule pisses Alex off to no extent.

He'd leave the play area, toy cars in hand, running for the nearest inflatable slide.  I'd go running after him, take the cars away and he'd scream at me, fall on his back and howl.  I'd pick him up, tell him that I understand he wants the toy, and he can have it in the play area.  He'd take the toy, I'd put him in the play area, he'd escape again, and throw the fit again.  Play this scenario on a loop for two hours and toss in a liberal amount of kicking, screaming, crying and throwing of said cars, and you'd have a good picture of what our morning at Kangaroo Zoo was like.

We finally left at noon, both of us covered in tears and snot, Alex still screaming about the fact that he did not have the toys in his hands.  I gave him a package of fruit snacks which he threw one by one in my general direction until they were gone, finally passing out about halfway home.

I'm beginning to realize that they weren't kidding about the "Terrible Twos".  My son is a grumpy little troll most of the time, with the occasional up mood swing when the planets are aligned just so.  Fun things are no longer fun.  He reacts to previous favorite foods as if they were poison.  I'm at a loss as to what to do.  My Positive Parenting book tells me to acknowledge and validate his feelings, and give him extra hugs and most of all smile, speak lovingly to him and simply redirect his attention to something else.  Redirection PISSES HIM OFF.  Alex knows what he wants, and I'm no longer able to distract him with a shiny object or odd looking kitchen utensil.  Not even a similar toy will do.  He wants THAT car.  THAT car with the STRIPES.  The YELLOW stripes, not the BLACK stripes and Oh my GOD, how DARE you try to trick me with the car with the yellow stripes and the blue bumpers when I've clearly indicated that I wanted the car with the yellow stripes and the green bumpers, you horrible beast of a woman!  Giving in to his demands only intensifies the tantrum because I WANT BOTH CARS!  WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME?  WWWWWAAAAAAAA!!!

I'm scared of Two.  Somebody, please hold me.

I haven't been posting a lot lately.  Partly because there's nothing much to write about lately and partly because of a certain child who is stuck to me like super glue.  Also, I just sent my laptop off to the doctor because a few keys have popped off (requiring a whole new keyboard!) making it doubly hard to detach myself from the monkey for a few minutes downstairs with our neglected desktop computer.

Alex and I are trying to soak up the last of the summer sunshine, making trips to any and all sprinklers and muddy puddles available within a 10 mile radius of our house.  Alex is such a water kid, I'll probably sign him up for swimming lessons this winter at the indoor pool. 

Autumn is fast approaching, which also will signal the official arrival of the "Terrible Two's" come Alex's birthday in September.  I've been getting a preview the last couple of days, and I have to tell you, it's looking like it will be a wild ride.  Some days I feel like I'm training for the pig wrestling championships. 

The second we hit the park every day, my son goes off running with a pack of wild boys, throwing sand, stealing other people's snacks and screaming like a howler monkey from the top of the playground structure.  Alex comes home from the park looking like Pigpen from Peanuts, oftentimes a new rip in his clothing, mud caked in his hair and peanut butter smeared across his cheeks and a few runny boogers snaking their way to his lips, always requiring a minimum of a hose down in the sink.  It's exhausting, these park outings, but I am grateful for the opportunity to let him burn off some steam every day.  God help us when we're stuck inside for the winter.  I really don't know what we're going to do.

Manipulation

He has recently discovered that saying "peees"  (please) will get him anything he wants.  If, for some reason, "peees" doesn't get him what he wants, he'll say "pitty peees" (pretty please).  That always works.  I mean, could YOU say no to "pitty peees"?

Mama's boy

I don't know if it's the age or the fact that we spend so much time together, but Alex is really becoming a mamas boy all of a sudden.  He's never been a particularly clingy kid.  Always happy to be with other people, or playing.  But lately, it's all me, all the time.  He wants to be held, ALL THE TIME.  Not even just when we're out.  At home too.  He wants to be held while I'm cooking dinner.  He wants to sit on my lap when I'm trying to go to the bathroom.  It's like I forgot to put fabric softener in the laundry and he's sticking to me like static cling.

He won't even go to John, much to John's dismay.  It doesn't help that I've been giving John grief about being a lazy dad, the only time he spends time with Alex is if I am unavailable and then it's just Alex running around while John watches TV, occasionally shouting "don't climb on that!" from the sofa.  Now John thinks Alex doesn't like him because Alex only wants me.  In some ways, it's payback.  Alex had always been more of a Daddy's boy in the past.  I do all the work, and John was getting all the love.  Now the work to love ratio is skewed in the other direction and I'm feeling a little bit smothered. 

I'm wondering if it has anything to do with my parenting style lately.  I've recently read a book about positive discipline and Alex's clingyness seems to coincide with about the time that I started implementing some of the suggestions from the book.  Maybe he's just responding to my more positive attitude.

I'm sure Alex will go back to being a Daddy's boy soon enough though.  In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy the extra snuggles while I can.

Recall close calls

Last week I had to toss a few cans of green beans because of potential botulism contamination.  Today, I found out about the Mattel/Fisher Price recall because of lead paint.  Imagine my horror when I saw this on the recall list:

This happens to be Alex's favorite bath toy.  So favorite in fact that both Elmo and Cookie monster are missing their eyes and most of their clothes because Alex CHEWED OFF THE PAINT! 

After taking a moment to overreact, and briefly consider gouging the eyes out of a Mattel voodoo doll, I calmed down enough to look further into the situation and breathe a sigh of relief that the recall affects only toys purchased AFTER May 2007.  Alex has had his Tub Sub longer than that.

I'm tossing it anyway.

I was also sad to see several Go Diego Go toys on the list.  A couple of those I'd planned to get for Alex's birthday next month.

Best Shot Monday

Our city had a hot air balloon festival on Saturday. I figured since my son has a near obsession with helium balloons, that he would just loose his mind over the hot air variety.  For the most part he did except when they'd shoot the fire into the ballon, then he'd wrap his legs as tightly around my waist as possible and bury his face in my shoulder. 

In the evening they had a "balloon glow" where they'd put up the ballons and the fire would light them up.  It was really cool.  I took lots of pictures from both the morning lift off and the evening glow, but for some reason, this is my favorite.

Autonomy

Alex took an empty cup off of the counter, walked over to the fridge's water dispenser, filled the cup up and took a drink.

Apparently, he can take care of his own hydration needs now.

Just call us Mr and Mrs Suess

Me:  Can you smell the sink?  I cleaned it with Plink.

Him:  Why?  Did it stink?

Another worthy entry for the baby book

Baby's first poop in the tub:  August 6, 2007

Though I'd heard many, many other mothers talk about their children pooping in the bathtub, I'd long ago gotten over that fear, due to the fact that Alex has never, ever done it.  I'd get after John for refusing to give Alex a bath using the "tub-poop" defense and I'd counter with my belief that since he hasn't done it in nearly two years, he's not likely to start now, so go get the bubble bath already!

I was wrong.  This afternoon as he was playing in the bubbles, he stopped moving and started grunting.  And almost immediately, there lying on the bottom of the tub was a little brown turd.  Having become immune to any and all bodily functions and excretions, I took it as an opportunity to take him out of the tub and stick him on the potty to hopefully finish his business there.  He promptly clamped his cheeks and refused to do any more business.

As a first time tub-poop goes, I count myself very lucky.  Alex had been suffering from a bout of the squirts all weekend so I've been giving him Gatorade and water in lieu of juice, making this bowl movement thankfully solid.  I just drained the tub water and picked it up with some toilet paper.  It could have been so much worse.

Best Shot Monday

This is not the best picture I've ever taken.  This picture, if you don't know my son, probably doesn't even say anything to you.  But to me, it's a triumph!  That thing in his hand?  It's a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  THAT HE ATE!  The whole thing.  Without complaint.  There was no flinging of bread on the floor, no squishing of peanut butter in the fist, no rubbing of jelly in the hair.  He didn't even try to shove the sandwich down his diaper.  He just smiled and happily ate his entire sandwich (well, it was just a half sandwich to begin with, but for a kid who eats a maximum of three bites at a meal, on a good day, a half a sandwich may as well have been an entire roasting pig).  I'm still in shock.

So, a couple of weeks ago John broke his hand and I was forbidden to write about it on my blog because he's embarrassed about it.  Well, I think mostly everyone knows now, so I can feel free to complain that my husband, despite having been told by the Orthopedic surgeon NOT to take his splint off until he comes back to see her in four and a half weeks, has removed it not once, but TWICE! 

When I picked him up after his appointment to have his bone set and saw that the doctor had not put a permanent cast on him, instead just re-wrapped his splint in bandages, I knew that thing didn't stand a chance of staying on longer than a week.  I was right.  He is at this moment not wearing his splint and enjoying the breeze blowing through his arm hair.

In his defense, however, I understand.  I mean it's bad enough to not be able to wash your hands and arm, but John's a germaphobe and I think the ick factor of the cast has caused more emotional trauma to him than the actual broken bone.

Parenting mistake #342

Left my can of Diet Pepsi Max on the counter and left the room.  Came back to find my son chugging the remainder of my soda.

Like I need him to be hyped on caffine.

It's 30 minutes from nap time.

Yea, that'll happen.

I'm in for a very long day.

A rookie mistake

Last night we were to spend the evening with our friends and their three year old daughter at their apartment.  Normally I absolutely hate going anywhere because it's so hard to keep Alex from breaking things or drinking water out of the dog dishes or smearing poop on other people's couches.  But last night we were going to be somewhere that was already mostly kid-proof, so I was uncharacteristically looking forward to getting out of our house for a change. 

Alex and Regan get along wonderfully, mostly because sharing isn't an issue.  She wants to play with the stuffed animals and Alex wants to play with matchbox cars.  This arrangement allows the two of them to play quite happily together in the playroom for hours with minimal hair pulling, biting and crying.

As expected, the evening went very well, with the exception of the one 15 minute tantrum Alex pitched because he was not allowed to play with the daddy toys (collectible GI Joe's and Star Wars figures that John and Josh were fawning over in the living room).  I blame this tantrum on John because really, what does he expect?  Of course Alex wants to play with the toys the daddy's are playing with.  When his choices are playing princess horsies with Regan and super cool army guys with the daddy's, I mean, come on.  Once he calmed down, it was smooth sailing the rest of the night.  He even fell asleep for two hours allowing us to finish up playing our game on the Wii uninterrupted by requests for juice.

And then we woke him up to go home. 

Normally, when we go somewhere I pack a 50 pound bag of anything and everything you could possibly need for an evening out with Alex.  A variety of different kinds of snacks ranging from Goldfish crackers to a can of green beans.  two bottles, one filled with juice, one empty and a spare juice box.  A minimum of two matchbox cars, three transformer "bots", two favorite stuffed animals, a dozen mega blocks, five books, and some random thing from the kitchen he's never seen like a whisk or an adjustable measuring cup.  I also bring eight diapers and two packs of wipes, butt cream, baby Tylenol, orajel swabs and a small bottle of instant hand sanitizer.  The most important thing I pack are one or all of his three favorites:  "Bunny" (his blue stuffed Easter bunny from this year), "Bankie" (his rocket ship blankie he's had since birth) and "Diego bankie" (his new Go Diego Go blanket).

Last night, I brought one bottle of juice, four diapers, one pack of wipes and hand sanitizer all packed in my relatively small tote bag.  I did this on purpose, reasoning that since we're going to a home occupied by a small child, I wouldn't need to load up for bear, moose and woolly mammoth.  And mostly I was right, that is until he woke up at 2:00AM to go home only to find he did not have "BANKIE!".  He didn't have "DIEGO BANKIE!".  He didn't even have "BUNNY!"

He cried as though John and I had just shot Diegogo in the head right in front of him.  The entire 40 minute drive home, our car shook with the wails of a child scorned.  His sobs were punctuated by shrieks for "BANKIE!  BBBBBANKIE!".  Occasionally, he'd collapse back into his car seat with a whimper and fall asleep for a few seconds before sitting bolt upright howling about the injustice that has been done to him.  I spent the drive turned around in my seat talking to him, occasionally trying to stroke his cheeks, hands and feet to comfort him, only to have him recoil in disgust and scream at me with fire in his eyes.  About halfway home, I began telling him how many miles until we get to bankie.  I told him bunny was waiting up for him in the living room and couldn't wait to see him.  I tried to tell him I was sorry, that I'd messed up.  Mommy made a mistake and it will never happen again, I promise. 

When we finally pulled up to our house, Alex was covered in tears, sweat and snot and I was sick to my stomach with guilt for having caused my poor child so much pain.  We went in to find bunny next to the door, having been tossed into the corner of the room earlier in the day.  We then went immediately into Alex's room, found Diego bankie and I wrapped him up like a burrito and held him until his sniffling subsided and he fell asleep for the night.

Had I ever doubted the need for a comfort item, had I ever thought that my child could survive a simple drive home without his favorite blankies or bunny, those notions have been banished for good.  Mark my words, I will never leave the house without my 50 pound "rescue pack" again.

Post "vacation" delirium

We got back from our annual trip to San Diego this morning and all three of us are understandably cranky and exhausted.  We drove the entire trip over night, leaving Tuesday night around 11:00pm and leaving to come home last night about the same time.  While this made for a easy stress-free trip toddler wise (Alex slept the entire trip both ways), John and I both stayed up all night.  John did the bulk of the driving, and I am unable to sleep in cars.  The trip home made it even harder for me to sleep as the floor in front of me was occupied by the cooler, requiring me to fold up my legs and ride the entire trip Indian style.  Amazingly uncomfortable, I can assure you.

The trip itself was mostly exhausting for me.  We stayed at my grandmother's house in Fallbrook which does not have air conditioning.  Her house is also filled with shiny breakable knick-knacks that were irresistible to Alex.  When I wasn't prying breakables out of my son's hands, I was in San Diego with John at ComicCon trying to navigate a giant stroller through an ocean of geeks.  Our time at ComicCon was spent standing in lines, standing in more lines, and, just for fun, we'd stand in a few lines.  Geeks love them some lines, let me tell you. In fact, on two separate occasions, I retreated to a far wall of the exhibition hall to take a break and people actually lined up behind me.  The first time it happened, within 20 minutes, I had four groups of people standing along the wall with me when someone walked by and asked me what the line was for.  "Line?  What line?  I'm not in line, I'm just standing here." I replied.  Everyone groaned and walked away.  I thought it was pretty funny until it happened again later in the day.

It wasn't all bad though, I got to meet Chief Tyrol (aka Aaron Douglas) from Battlestar Galactica and had his new action figure autographed.  He was really nice and willing to talk to fans.  Too bad all I could think to say to him was "Der, I bet it's cool to have your own action figure huh?  Snort".  Unfortunately, that was the day I'd forgotten to bring my camera, so this is the only proof I have of the encounter:

We also were lucky enough to get into the Heroes panel line just in time to get seats for the event.  We showed up at about 9:00, the panel started at 11:00, only to discover that apparently, Heroes is the new Beatles.  People had actually camped out the night before in line.  It was a good thing we'd left Alex with my family for the day as we spent the entire day glued to our seats in Ballroom 20 of the convention center for not only the Heroes panel (which was great), but the one panel I was excited about, "the women of Battlestar Gallactica".

We spent a couple of hours at the beach in La Jolla and we saw a baseball game...  All in all, it was a great trip, but I gotta tell ya, I'm wiped out.  I'm going to go take a nap.