Archive for February, 2007

Hello, Flu.

(Hell. That’s what I typed first for the title, just “Hell.” And that pretty much sums it all up.)

My daughter came home from school around noon yesterday. Her teacher called and said she was crying and coughing and complaining. So I went to pick her up. And she was just a MESS when I finally arrived – all of ten minutes later. By this morning her fever was up to 103.4 and I knew she had it bad.

When my son was sick this weekend, he never seemed too bad. I thought it was the flu, but he never seemed to be in really bad shape. And as of yesterday afternoon, he no longer has had a fever and is doing much better. (I kept him home today just in case. But his butt is going back to school tomorrow before he drives me completely insane!)

After I took my daughter to the doctor this morning, I called my husband to tell him it was officially the flu. And he proceeded to tell me that he would see me really soon because he now had the chills to go along with the congestion and cough. By the time he made it home, he was in rough shape.

I asked him to let me know what kind of medicines he thought he would need because I was headed to the grocery store and then the drugstore to pick up the TamiFlu (? spelled correctly) for my daughter. I felt a little under the weather, so I wanted to stock up before anything took ahold of me and neither one of us would be in any shape to go out.

Well, in the middle of the grocery store, there in the tea and coffee aisle, I suddenly felt cold. Very cold and shiver-y. It was as sudden as that. By the time I paid for the groceries – and by the way, I have no idea what I bought – and got them loaded into the van, I called my husband on the phone to whine that I was sick, “uuuuuggggh.”

I still had to go to the drugstore to get my daughter’s prescription. And I was sick. This is when I started to pout. Big time. And when I pulled into the drive-thru lane – which, by the way, bugs the crap out of me with the spelling – and they told me they would be with me in a second, I wanted to cry. Instead I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

Yep. Sleep. Right there in the van in the drive-thru lane. The lady woke me up, charged me $75 for a little bottle of medicine, and sent me on my way. I think it might have been prudent of her to ask me if I was okay to drive. But, eh, maybe she just wanted for me to clear out of her lane. Either way, I made it home in one piece.

So we’re all suffering with the flu. Well, the boy is doing better, having gone through it and come out the other side. This is the first time we’ve all been this sick. The first time I’ve had the flu in a very long time. And because the kids are sick and no one can take US to the doctor, we don’t get the fancy flu medicine that supposed to cut out half the suffering. Nope, we get to feel the full effect. Yay.

Hold me. And bring warm blankets. And mint green tea.

Sick…

again…with the sick.

I’m really hating the fact that someone has been perpetually sick here at our house for, oh, I don’t know, 3 weeks now? It’s like a very cruel way to slowly drive me insane and crush my spirit. It’s just not fair, I tell you, it’s just not fair.

Right now it’s my son who’s running the fever. Although if you check back with me later, it’s bound to be yet another person. In fact, I’m just waiting for the phone call from my daughter’s teacher telling me she’s sick too. (What can I say, I’m optimistic.)

So there’s nothing further to post for now. We’re too busy being sick. Darn it.

Birthday!

Yesterday was my daughter’s 6th birthday. As is tradition here at our house, we decorated all up, ordered a cake, and had ourselves a party. Normally we have what we call a “family party” which is just our fancy way of saying “It’s just us kid!” But after attending her first round of actual birthday parties this year, my daughter begged to have one herself – an actual party with guests other than family – and we gave in and invited the neighboring kids to join us. No big deal, we thought, we’ll just have them come over for a little cake and then everyone will be happy. Well, the little shindig turned into a full-fledged party. We ordered an obnoxious amount of pizza, got them all hopped up on cake and ice cream, and opened presents. All on a Thursday night. A school night. I hope their parents don’t hate us too much. But while they all ran around the living room screaming and I sat there with the nerve that leads from the back of my head directly to my left eye twinge-ing, my daughter was filled with pure joy. And that, folks, is what we do it all for.

Pictures to come sometimes soon-ish. (Or whenever the heck I get around to uploading them. I’m recouperating. It may take some time.)

(Sara, we got the package yesterday – right on time. You’re good. Real good.)

Giving a whole new meaning to ‘laying out on the beach’.

Scene: Son doing his homework at the kitchen table. Assignment is to read a book and write about the setting and main characters.

Son: (speaking aloud while writing) “It takes place on a b*tch.”

Me: (who is only half paying attention while I get another child a drink) “Say what?!”

Son: “On a b*tch.”

Me: (trying desperately to figure out what he’s talking about. I mean, what kind of books do they give first graders now-a-days anyway?) “Oh…I think you mean beach. Beach!”

Son: “B*tch, beach, same thing.”

Hello conundrum. Nice to see you again.

I think the house can be removed from it’s quarantine now. My daughter is officially no longer contagious now that she’s been using the eye drops for her pink eye for more than 24 hours. We all seem to be holding down food (and eliminating it in a normal way.) (Ewwww.)

I haven’t posted because I’ve been busy. Busy running errands, mailing packages – Sara, it’s officially on it’s way! And that darn post office was BUSY, let me tell you – and dealing with a difficult little boy. And no, it’s not MY boy. It’s the one I babysit. And let me just say I’m running out of ideas.

Just when I think we’ve got a handle on everything and he’s doing better, we have these days that make me want to throw my hands up and give up. When I get to the point of wondering if I want to keep on being his babysitter, I have a tendency to withdraw into silence. I guess I’m trying to figure it all out and regroup.

I’ve heard, Just quit. He’s not your child, why should you deal with all this? Why put yourself through it? And to that I say: I don’t want to give up on him. I feel like I’m a constant in his little life, and I think it would throw him into even more turmoil if I just abandoned him. And that’s what it would feel like, me abandoning him. I think it would bring out even more aggressive behavior on his part. And then sometimes I wonder if there is a better situation out there for him (IE: someone without children of their own who can concentrate on just him,) and I then wonder if I would actually be doing him a favor to bail. But I think the last part is just me trying to rationalize bailing on them.

This job is hard. It’s not like a regular job where you can just turn in your notice and they find another person to fill your place with an ad in the paper. (Well, technically, it is.) But it’s also personal, very, very personal. If I quit it would create hard feelings and a very difficult situation for the parents while they try to scramble for childcare. If I quit I’ll lose any kind of reference – in a very reference-reliant profession – from the only family I’ve been a nanny for since we’ve moved here.

And, also, if I quit I lose a salary. There’s always that to consider.

You can’t escape your destiny.

Well, it seems to be our destiny to be sick around here. At least, it’s the kids destiny. (Although, I’m usually not far behind them.)

Friday night my little girl started throwing up. In her bed. And she continued to throw up in her bed all night long until I ran out of clean sheets and blankets to put on the bed. Then I moved her downstairs – at around 4 AM – so she could continue to sleep, throw up, sleep throw up, ad infinitum. I was worried about her being sick from the whole peanut butter incident. (See: previous post.) I was worried she had come down with salmonella. But then…

My son started throwing up Saturday evening, and he doesn’t go anywhere near peanut butter. So I knew it was just a virus. However, it was a particularly nasty virus. And there was a lot of puke.

But as of Sunday evening, everyone was holding down food and looking better. Phew, I thought, I’m home free. Well, home free as long as I don’t get sick. Then this morning – never think you’re home free, it’ll curse you even to think it – I looked at my daughter’s eye and noticed it was a little pink. So off to the doctor we went. And guess what? She’s got pink eye! Oh boy…

All I can say is, stay very far away from us. Very far. We’ll be contagious until the middle of the week, I’m sure.

Well, F*CK

Have you seen this?

It’s a recall on peanut butter. Peter Pan peanut butter.

Guess what I have in my pantry right now…

Peter Pan peanut butter.

Guess what the serial numbers are on the the 2 (2!) jars I have in there…

If you guessed they start with 2111, you guessed right!

Now guess what I’ve fed my daughter and also the boy I babysit today…

Peter Pan peanut butter! The one that’s recalled for salmonella. Go me!

F*CK.