The thing that ate my family

So, the day Julian's high fever broke, Lucy woke up with a moderately high fever, which quickly got higher and higher. You know where this is going. Fools that we were!We had just been breathing a sigh of relief that no one else in the family got the bug from Hell that took down my baby boy for a week.

So, of course, the Bug from Hell took me down, and Lucy too. Until last week, I didn't know an adult could sustain a fever of 103 for days on end. I was shivering, sweating, crying and basically just trying to get through. Couldn't eat due to the bleeding sores in the back of my throat. Couldn't see due to my mysteriously burning, burning eyes. Lucy's fever and tummy ache lasted a full week, the fever and other monstrous symptoms hung on to me for only about four days. But let me tell you, the past two weeks have been awful. The three of us have been sicker than we have ever been in our lives. I would not wish this on anyone, not anyone. D has so far been spared this miserable thing, and its a good thing too, this house would have fallen completely apart without him to take care of us these past couple weeks.

I'm contining my quest for medical practitioners, of every ilk, (eastern/western/traditional/alterative) to help me figure out what I need to do to make this The Year of Good Health for my family. So much sickness last year nearly sent me over the edge, and besides, I like to think that we are a healthy lot, overall. We eat well, practice good hygeine, so what gives? There must be something bigger going on here, that we all keep getting sick. I just want to get to the bottom of it, and get us all healthy.

I'll write more when I am coherent. We are on day 2 of recovery from this thing and we had a B-day party for Lucy today. It was a fun party, and so great to see the family, but she and I are both pretty wiped out from it all. Julian is happy and lovin' life, and Dom is still holding steady.

hello again

OK, It's been a veryveryvery long time since I posted anything here. Sorry about that. Recovering from our chronic condition of trying to do too much. We had a rather busy few weeks there, with a trip to northern WI for a vacation with Dominic's family at a northwoods cabin, shortly followed by a glorious and long trip to the Colorado Rockies. We've been home from Colorado for a week now, but J has been sick with an extremely high fever which just broke yesterday.

So, trying to settle back into a routine is tough. But we're getting there. If anyone is actually still reading this, I'll post more often from now on.

As for the Compact, there's not much to say, other than things are stil going just fine and although I am still so weary of the whole clothing issue, everything is going well. The kids' birthdays are both this month and luckily last Christmas when D and I made the decision to undertake a year of no-buying, we set aside a few Christmas presents for this very occasion. J's birthday was last weekend, but the poor little dude had a fever of 103 so wasn't much in the partying mood. We're headed to my mothers this weekend for a belated birthday celebration, and hopefully everyone will be in good spirits.

With two kids' birthdays just weeks apart, I see the point in having one big family get-together to celebrate both. On the other hand, I am a bit leery of "watering down" each party-birthdays are so special, and I want each of my children to feel their day is a celebration of his/her uniqueness and arrival on this big ol' hunk of dirt. If we start combining parties, will that be ost somehow?

Another exception

This morning I had to take L in to the doctor's office for a shot. This was actually akin to torture. She was terrified and screaming, biting my shoulder, crying, it was just awful. This primal need that I have to protect my daughter from any pain or discomfort in this world? I bumped up against it big time today and it laughed in my face.

Anyway.

So, to soften the blow of this scary experience (for both of us) I told Lucy we would go to the toy store and pick something special out. (What? Where does this come from? Am I teaching her to assuage her pain and fear with material goods? Am I bribing her? Am I teaching her some terribly flawed lesson about "earning" toys based on her behavior?--I don't care what the hidden messages are today, people. I just wanted my baby to feel better!) I knew I was going to violate the Compact for this, and I figured, why not? She's gotta get a shot and this is going to suck. Take her to the toy store, get her a kitty, she'll feel better. To heck with the Compact. This is an acceptable exception.

Well, we got to the toy store and the thing she wanted most of all, more than anything else, was a little doll stroller. Mind you, she already has a doll stroller, which is about 2 years old. It is rickety and has been duct-taped together more than any other thing we own (except possibly for Julian's CD player, long story)--it still works but is really in rough shape. She found a pretty little number, purple with pink ballet slippers on it. She found a stuffed kitty to push around and generally had a blast at the toy store. (We probably could have left at that point, as the horror of the shot was all but forgotten by this point anyway.)

L: "I want this stroller."
me: "But you already have one of these honey, let's look for something else that might be fun for you to play with"
L: "But I want this stroller."
Me:"Look here honey, look at this high chair. Do you think your kitties might like to sit in this high chair and eat their kitty treats?"
L: "But you said I could get anything."
Me: "Yes but you already have a stroller, let's find something that you don't have. Look at this pretty high chair."

We left the store with a frigging doll high chair. My chirpy sales pitch worked. She got a little excited about the high chair and I swooped on that enthusiasm to get her the toy I thought would be the best choice. But she had picked out the toy she wanted the most, just like I promised her she could, and what did I do? I ignored her choice. I didn't want to get something we already had. I am curious how long the current stroller will last. I figure it still works OK, so why get a new one? Why not get something she doesn't have?

I was kicking myself the whole entire way home from the store. Why am I such a jerk? Why couldn't I just get her the thing that she really wanted? Why did I talk her out of it, and basically make myself a liar by not letting her get "anything" she wanted? The rare occasion we violate the terms of the Compact for a toy, and she doesn't even really get the one she wants.

Not only that, but the doll high chair sucks. It is stupid. We got home, got it out of the box, and it is way too short, so she has to kneel down to use it, plus, her kitties are too big to sit in it properly, and the tray doesn't come off. It's too hard for her to use the way she wants to. So I feel even worse about the whole damn day.

Yes, I realize I am most definitely overthinking this one, but I feel rotten. I feel like an awful wretch of a mother.

The Mother of all Garage Sales.

We are finally having a garage sale! We were originally just planning to "bring a few things over" to my dad's garage sale last weekend, but then Julian got sick (just a cold, but he had a high fever and a rash for a few days) and Dom decided to paint the outside of the house, where the addition was put on last year. (a busy weekend) so, true to form, we left that small pile of "a few things" to rot in our basement.

Coincidentally, this weekend, my neighborhood association (of which I am a proud board member, I might add) is hosting a neighborhood-wide Sale-o-Rama, so Dom and I sprung into action this week, rummaged through the closets, the boxes, the piles of clutter everywhere, and came up with a pretty sizeable pile of stuff to sell. We don't intend to get rich (unless someone does in fact buy the violin, the bed, the mountain bike, and the kayak)-but what a fun way to meet the neighbors, chat with folks, and enjoy a summer Saturday in Minnesota. Plus, maybe we can get rid of some of this STUFF that's been plaguing us. By noon I'll be giving stuff away, I am sure. I just want it out of here.

I can't believe Dom agreed to do it--he hates garage sales. When we're in the car and we drive past one, or better yet, a flea market, I have to beg and plead to get him to stop. On the rare occasion that he actually does stop, he grumbles so much about it that it's really not even that fun. (Sorry, Dom, but you know it's true!) He sees no point in "paying money for stuff other people are throwing away" and wasting time wandering around looking at crap....I call it browsing around in search of random goodies and treasures unknown! And I thoroughly enjoy it!

So, if you're in the area this Saturday, mosey on over. You can indulge your secret desire to become a violin player,or a collector of random pieces of childrens play equipment.

fashionally challenged

Here's what a total dork I am. Last week, when it seemed spring had finally arrived (oh, blessed spring! How I have missed you!) and I had the luxury of a kidless couple of hours, I went to run some errands. My wardrobe is pitiful. It's not as if the errands were anything exciting, say, a Kentucky Derby party or a lunch meeting with Obama....just a trip to the grocery store and the car wash. (exciting life I lead, no?)

Granted, most of my "spring wardrobe" has been boxed up and sitting in the crawlspace for the better part of three years (in the past three spring/summer seasons I was pregnant/postpartum or too busy chasing a one-year old and too freaked out about everything to care what I was wearing...and then pregnant/postpartum again)

So I found myself sauntering through the parking lot on the most beautiful spring day...blue sky, puffy white clouds, sunshine so bright you could smell it (well, I could anyway) and leaves practically exploding from the branches. I was a stunning vision of...brown. And not the brown that is the new black either. I'm talking about faded brown cords, and a long-sleeved brown maternity shirt that still passes as a loose fitting shirt. Yeah. I was lookin' good, people.



So began my quest for decent, well fitting clothes. For me. I've had some minimal issues with finding kids clothes (see this post) but nothing I can't deal with, given enough time and laundry detergent. It was time to exhume my spring wardrobe from the bowels of my house. A few hours after my lovelies were asleep, I found myself knee-deep in clothes I have had for years, some old favorites, and many, many "what was I thinking?" pieces. So I did a ton of laundry that night and realized that I am in deep doo-doo.



My cute summer shorts, which fit me great four years ago, don't particularly, shall we say, get along with my two time-post-postpartum body. My cute summer shirts, which used to fit, now aren't particularly thrilled to stretch across my rather-ahem-ample baby-feeding system.

So, at the very next kid-free opportunity, I hit the consignment stores hard. Three hours later I had a somewhat sizeable collection of passable clothes. I am not going to stop any cars with my incredible fashion sense, but at least I'm not wearing corduroy anymore!

Of course, the grand irony here is that it's back down to 50 degrees and rain. So I believe the fashion editors of the world might forgive my corduroy, should it emerge from my closet again...

Our First Cheat

So, I went out and bought something recently without a second thought. I fell off the wagon of non-consumerism. And I have no regrets at all. None. What was the ultra-tempting item that got me to turn away from my values, to ignore this challenge we've taken on, to shun our quest for simplicity? A new car? Some great clothes?

Light-blocking fabric.

Those of you who have seen me recently probably don't have to try very hard to recall my pitted eyes, sallow complexion and complete lack of energy these past few months. What many of you know is that our dear baby boy was trying for the world record of sleepless days and nights. He was making a pretty good run of it, too. 9 months without a nap. (no, I'm not exaggerating) No single stretch of sleep at night lasting more than three hours. Nine months of this was really taking its toll on me. I was physically and mentally exhausted, completely drained, and, frankly, starting to lose my grip. I was short on patience (aka an UberHag of a mother and wife), I was short on ideas. We have tried everything to get this kid to sleep. And I do mean, everything. Health experts from every end of the spectrum weighed in on his difficulty. Friends were generous with advice and suggestions. I have sung every lullaby ever written to this child.

Finally, a friend (bless you S) menti0ned how well her son started to sleep after she taped black poster board up on the windows, to block out the light. Why didn't I think of this before? I raced to the fabric store the next morning, wondering how on earth I could have overlooked this one. But of course. He has wood shades, but they aren't great at blocking the light.

I spent twenty minutes velcroing the fabric up in J's room, and that afternoon, miracle of miracles, he took a nap. And not just any nap, friends, he took a three hour nap. Since then, he has napped every day, for about an hour and a half. And the nights? His current average is to wake up two or three times. This is down from the 5 to 10 times per night I was getting up with him before.

To say I am restored is an understatement.

So, yeah, we broke the terms of the Compact this time. But like I said, it is so worth it. No regrets here. I am re-joining the living, and it is good.

The Article.

Oh, yeah, I should probably post this link.