Tag Archives: barf

Winding down the weekend…

Daddy-o has been out of town (for work) since Thursday morning. Thursday evening I had to call in the cavalry as I got a migraine. Grampie came to the rescue and played with Boopsie while I went to bed with earplugs and a pillow over my face. Things went really well otherwise… until this morning.

This morning Boopsie drank a cup of milk and then coughed… and threw it up all over us. The rest of the day she kept saying she had to “cough” (aka barf), but didn’t. Interestingly enough, those moments seemed to happen as soon as I picked up the phone or said I needed to do something. Suspicious? I thought so.

Tonight at dinner she wouldn’t eat a thing, and talked the whole time about throwing up:

“I need da bucket.”

“Th yellow gonna come out.”

“I gonna cough again.”

I tried to play it very blase… and ended up just giving her a bath and putting her to bed, explaining (as usual) there wouldn’t be any food/milk until morning. Now she’s in there wailing for “milky.” Here’s a few recent pics to help me remember that I love being a mother. (I need the reminder right now.)

Toddler watering flowers

Watering plants in fuzzy polar bear footie pajamas, pink rain boots and her bike windbreaker.

toddler picking yellow dandelions

Picking dandelions…

Black goat with toddler running toward it

Chasing goats at the zoo… apparently Boopsie loves goats as much as I do.

There, I feel much better now. (And it helps that she’s fallen asleep.) Let’s face it, this could be worse: Daddy-o is currently stuck in an airport, where his flight is delayed three hours. Blech.

Now, say it with me… “Please don’t puke, please don’t puke, please don’t puke.”

 

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Filed under drudgery, firsts, Fun

Things That Happened When I Got Pregnant

In sort-of chronological order, numbered for my own comfort:

1) I cried. (I was not sad, just a little surprised and overwhelmed. Within one hour of taking the pregnancy test I literally had to walk out of my house and get on a plane for a business trip to effing Las Vegas.)

2) I lost all my mommy-grody-mojo. Remember when I couldn’t handle anything even remotely disgusting? And then I had Boopsie and could handle lots of it? Yeah, that disappeared again. One night she had the stomach flu I couldn’t get within 10 feet of her without retching. It was 3 a.m. and Daddy-o had to do comforting and clean-up while I ran from room to room in our house gagging into the kitchen sink, the upstairs toilet, the downstairs toilet, a trash can, etc. I didn’t even have the flu yet (that came later).

3) On a related note, I started barfing (or at least retching) at the drop of a hat. Generally, I felt better this time around (as compared to Boopsie) but I was barfing a lot more. Go figure. Taking out the diaper pail? Puke. Catching a whiff of a bag of dry cat food? Gag-o-rama. Drink caffeine? Yark-tastic.

4) My dreams got… wow. Intense would be one word. Almost every night I was treated to a feature length movie with plots and subplots. There was the one where Boopsie was 14 and got kidnapped by sweet potato farmers. It was the same way when I was pregnant with Boopsie. Both times, my dreams were my first “tell”… vivid and memorable are both understatements.

5) I was convinced it was a boy and started name-storming. I find boy names much harder than girl names and was stressed about that. I was also worried about getting Boopsie out of the crib, potty trained and off the pacifier in short order.

6) I was sick as a dog, virus-wise. The stomach flu took 4+ days to get over. The doctor said, “You’re pregnant. It takes longer to recover.” Then I got a respiratory flu-like virus. I missed a week of work. I could only take Tylenol and I coughed so much I bruised my ribs, which was intensely painful.

7) I had a miscarriage. (Sorry for the Downton Abbey-like plot twist.) I started spotting and I went to the midwife and he couldn’t find a heartbeat and ultrasounds confirmed the shitty news. After all that barfing and all those dreams and slogging through all that illness and just before the holy grail of the second trimester it was done. Becoming undone. The fetus stopped developing at about 6.5 weeks and I miscarried at home just before 12. And it sucked. It was much more physically draining than I expected, on top of all the other physically draining illnesses that made up January.

In the days surrounding the actual miscarriage I was a hormonal mess. I was insanely nauseated and drained to the point where getting through each day was a physical battle. (Sleep on the floor of an unoccupied office? Why, yes I think I will.) My theory is that my body was finally catching on that things were not going well, and I know (based on multiple blood tests) that my HCG counts were in a total free fall. I had more insane dreams, but they were more ominous than usual. Right after the miscarriage I had one in which I was caring for a bunch of little babies and I was doing a crap job of it. CRAP. There was a little baby boy, and I didn’t know his name. I should have known his name. He was hidden in a crib in a closet, as happy as could be, but when people asked me who he was, I didn’t know. In the dream I was panicked.

I went about my life, letting people know on an as-needed basis and I was shocked at how many women had gone through at least one miscarriage. It’s so common, and yet so few people talk about it. For me, there’s something about it that makes me feel a ever-so-slightly ashamed. Rationally, I know that I couldn’t have done anything differently. And I’m not walking around feeling broken, or scarred, or in emotional pain. I’m living my life as I normally would. But deep in my gut, there’s one tiny, ugly voice that sometimes whispers, “You failed.” And so I tell it to shut the eff up.

This was way back in January. I don’t have any lingering health impacts (and my ribs finally “healed” about six weeks ago). I’m fortunately not overwhelmed by sadness and I thanked my lucky stars every day that I had Boopsie to distract me and Daddy-o to hug me. We haven’t decided what this means for our future family plans, but I do know I need some more time to get my physical act back together and my mental game “on” if we decide to try again. Because if there is another pregnancy, it’s going to be a long 14 weeks of trying to stay calm (while barfing).

Why am I sharing this? Like I said, no one talks about this. I don’t think women should feel like they have to talk about it, but I think they should feel like they can. No shame. No drama. Just be. Godspeed to all you pregnant ladies, and to all the ladies who are mourning/have mourned little ones. Hugs to you.

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Filed under medical, mom guilt

Catching up…

Pfft… Where did the last month go? I’m delinquent on a whole bunch of things in my life, not the least of which is this blog. All I can say is, “Get in line, Yo.” Here are a few randoms, in the hope of making up some ground:

1) We switched Boopsie’s car seat so she faces forward in the car. NHTSA may hate us, but it’s a hell of a lot of fun, especially because she is a big-time backseat driver. She likes to yell “Stop” on the freeway, and “Go” at red lights and “[Th]at way, mama!” It makes me laugh every day.

2) In October, I’m doing this “October Unprocessed” challenge. Why? Erm….well… I mostly ¬†want to drop my “Diet Coke every day” and my “full bag of cinnamon bears” habits. Time to clean it up. I’m on day two and eating a LOT more fruits and veggies… so far so good. (We’ll see what I’m saying in about two more days.)

3) Last week Boopsie had the stomach flu. And refused to throw up into a bucket. We went through nearly every towel we own, and I sympathy puked once. It was a bad night that made me think it’s way too early for stomach flu. And I still have PTSD from last winter’s illnesses.

4) In what can only be described as a major score, I picked up a big bag of used Duplos from a thrift store for a mere $6. I was hiding them in my trunk (very sneaky, right?) but Boopsie spotted them and yelled “My blocks! My blocks!” Christmas surprise, fail #1.

5) Cutest thing ever… EVER. Just saying.

Boopsie with Owl Backpack

My baby with her first backpack. And pink Chuck Taylors.

6) And finally, I tried to make applesauce…while doing other things. Including playing outside with Boopsie. Whoops.

Burnt apples in pan

I don’t know how I’m ever going to get the 1/4 inch of burnt apples off the bottom of that pan. But I bet it’s going to take a really long time. Boo.

 

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This just happened.

Oh dear god.

Daddy-o is out of town and I have an early (for me) meeting in the morning.

I thought it would be sweet (and efficient) for to take a bath with Boopsie tonight.

Boopsie thought it would be a great night to try pooping in the bathtub.

Miraculously, I didn’t throw up.

Now, if you’ll excuse me (and the bleach fumes) I’m going to go huddle in the fetal position for the next several hours.

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Filed under adventures, firsts, poop

Mom Karate: Advancing to the Red Belt

Today at work I actually gave myself a paper cut on my nose while reading through printed out PowerPoint slides. And that just about totally sums up how things have been going.

Friday night Boopsie had a fever. Saturday morning her fever was much worse. So we went off to urgent care, for the third time in four weeks. (Winter is FUN!) Boopsie came out with a prescription for a broad-spectrum antibiotic for a sinus infection (?!?). Things were on the upswing until last night…

I got home from a work function at about 9:45 p.m. At about 10:15 p.m. Boopsie woke up whining, so Daddy-o and I decided to give her some Tylenol. We gave her the Tylenol and Daddy-o was going to fill the humidifier. He was passing Boopsie over to me, when WHAM. Full frontal barf attack, direct hit on the front of my shirt. It was gross, to the nth degree.

But here’s the amazing thing: I didn’t barf. Can you believe that?? I. didn’t. barf. (Even though I was literally dripping in her dinner.)

In karate, they have different belts that correspond to different levels of ranking or achievement. They start at white and go through black. Generally the belts go white, yellow, green, blue, purple, red, brown and black. (Sometimes there are less, and sometimes there are more.) I figure last night’s episode got me into at least a red belt. I haven’t quite figured out what it would take to get into a black belt, but I’m pretty sure that one (generally) healthy kid can’t get me there.

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Filed under adventures, drudgery, medical

Someday I will be able to laugh about this…

Oh what a weekend!

Friday I picked Boopsie up from daycare and learned that she naps in an armchair. And frequently falls asleep in a Johnny-Jump-Up. WTF? How tacky is that? Since when is it okay first for a tot to get so tired that she falls asleep in a bouncing toy? (JESUS that sounds bad!) And since when is it cool for a 17-month-old to sleep in an armchair?

Oh goody! So begins another daycare hunt! (Except that we might move… and we don’t know where… so how do we pick a day care?)

Saturday I was spending time with some friends when I got an SOS from Daddy-o. Boopsie puked. Everywhere. She had the stomach flu. Luckily, she seems to be on the mend. And luckily for me (sorry Daddy-o) I missed the big first barf. Have I mentioned lately that my husband is a trooper?

Today Boopsie woke up… with a head cold. She is sneezing and snotting all over the place. Poor kid. I hope the antibiotics she’s still on for the ear infection help keep her from getting another one. Crikey!

On the upside:

  • I grocery shopped, made dinner tonight and am making this for Tuesday night. (Because I am planning ahead! FTW!)
  • Boopsie signed “more please” today. I nearly peed my pants.
  • She got the stomach flu in the daytime, rather than in the middle of the night.
  • Today we went to the coolest book store ever.

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Filed under adventures, books, day care, problems middle class parents have, problems white parents have