Three: Mommy, you go to potty? In your bathroom?
Me: Yes, Three. When are you going to go potty in the bathroom?
Three: When I grow a pen*s.
Me: I'm not sure that's going to happen without substantial effort and assistance. Maybe we can try the potty sooner?
Three: Ok.
Me: Ok. (now yelling to Dan) I KNOW WHEN THREE IS FINALLY GOING TO BE POTTY TRAINED!
Dan: When?
Me: (with a straight face) When she grows a pen*s.
Dan: Well, I guess we have a definite time frame then.
Me: Really?
Dan: Yeah, like never.
****
The big girls are doing super summer math workbooks. They are due weekly, and somehow we end up doing the entire week's worth the night before they are due. Again. Dan is out for a run with the dog, and I'm bribing Three to give us a moment of quite with a leftover Re*ce's peanut butter egg from Easter-- one of the big ones. My favorite candy on earth. I was desperate.
I tell her to eat it slowly and that the big kids will be done in a few minutes.
Me: Moo, you add up the sums in the bubbles. Color anything that has 7 as a total purp.....
Three: (muffled) muffmeee!
I look over and she has stuffed the entire giant egg in her mouth at once. She is drooling chocolate spit and she looks like she has a tennis ball in her mouth. I quickly start to walk her into the kitchen, where there isn't a rug, sensing that perhaps this isn't going to end well.
Me: Spit it out, just spit it out.
Three tries to spit it out, but the peanut butter appears to be stuck to the roof of her mouth. Chocolate is being drooled on my socks. She gags once, and suddenly I'm covered in chocolate peanut butter vomit.
There is not a spot on her. Not even that spittle string that sometimes hangs off of your mouth after a good barf.
Three: (cheerfully) Well that was gross!
Me: (wiping vomit off my face) Yes, yes it was.
I strip in the kitchen and head off to the shower. Doodle and Moo are instructed to stop math and put on a show to watch with their sister until their Dad comes home. I've thrown the clothes in the washer and wiped up most of the puke. All that is left is the wrapper and a smear of chocolate barf on the floor.
Doodle: DON'T LET PRITZIE IN THE KITCHEN THERE IS CHOCOLATE BARF ON THE FLOOR AND SHE WILL GET SICK AND DIE!!!
Dan: What the?
Moo: (nonchalantly) Oh, Three barfed chocolate on Mom. She's taking a shower. It was gross.
Dan: (from outside the shower curtain) I was gone for 30 minutes and there was barf and what????
Me: Just give me 15 minutes. Please. I need to wash the barf out of my hair. Just 15 minutes. I will explain. And then we will never speak of it again.
Dan: (laughing) I wasn't gone that long......So just your average night, huh.....
Me: GET. OUT. BEFORE I HURT YOU.
Dan: I'm sorry.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Mommy's smile is broken-- a summer vacation with sun, sand, and a little facial paralysis
Friday was our last day of work before vacation. My jaw hurt and I took some ibuprofen. Didn't think anything of it, but it wasn't getting better. My tongue also felt like it had coating on it. I thought maybe my sinus infection was coming back. I left work a little early and we headed to the beach.
After dinner with friends on Saturday, we took a group picture. At first I thought it was the chardonnay, but I couldn't fully smile. We left soon after and as soon as we got in the car, I told Dan, "I think I have Bell's Palsy." Moo said, "Mom, your smile is broken." Half of my face was paralyzed.
We went straight to the ER. Although I was pretty sure I wasn't having a stroke, since I could move my limbs and think clearly, it was still scary. Of course my blood pressure was through the roof, too-- because I was panicked.
My cousin, who had survived a brain aneurysm in December, met us at the hospital. I'm glad she was there, but it didn't help my blood pressure. She entertained the girls, and took them back to where we were staying.
The nurses thought Dan and I were freaks. He's doing a bit of his own exam in triage, and the nurse kept asking me where I had heard of Bell's Palsy. When I explained that Dan was a doctor, my cousin a nurse, and my mother-in-law had it once, she calmed down a bit. I felt better when they didn't take blood or put in an IV. I figured if they didn't do any of those things, that they weren't too worried.
An ear exam, a head CT scan, some lower blood pressures, and four hours later (there was a boating accident ahead of us), we discovered I have Ramsay-Hunt Syndrome. Well, Dan did. The ER doc was like, "It's a Bell's Palsy, nothing serious," and when Dan mentioned Ramsay-Hunt, asked Dan if he wanted antibiotic drops for my ear (you med people will understand that means the er guy was a bit of a doofus).
Basically Ramsay-Hunt Syndrome means I have shingles in my ear, which has aggravated my facial nerve. I can't fully close my left eye, and half of my face doesn't move when I talk. Literally, I'm talking out of the side of my mouth. The left side of my face droops a bit. Since my eye doesn't close, I'm sleeping with an eye patch on. I sometimes dribble food or beverages out of the side of my mouth.
Let me tell you, it's been *super*. The pharmacist at the 24 hour pharmacy kept looking at Dan when we dropped off the scripts. They gave me meds to help with the shingles virus that they use to treat herpes and some steroids, and the eye patch. Her look said, "First of all, this woman is no prize, and I'm not sure what kinky games you're going to play with that eye patch."
I'm relieved that this is treatable, and that the paralysis will likely completely resolve (in several weeks). So far, the pain isn't too bad. I can't really pronounce my "fs" so swearing is quite amusing. I never really appreciated how much I used the F-word. Or tell the girls to "Freeze."
I'm used to being on display, what with having Three and all. We often get looks because we are a transracial family. Now, we get even more looks. I'm thinking of getting a t-shirt that says, "I know my face is paralyzed, please stare at my boobs instead."
I'm trying to have a good attitude about it, and not be too impatient for improvement. The running joke with my family is that you can't take my cousin and I anywhere without a head CT first.
I'm just relieved it isn't anything worse. And I even more sensitive to the experience of others who have an obvious disability. I'm not ready to share pictures yet, but I will post some later.
After dinner with friends on Saturday, we took a group picture. At first I thought it was the chardonnay, but I couldn't fully smile. We left soon after and as soon as we got in the car, I told Dan, "I think I have Bell's Palsy." Moo said, "Mom, your smile is broken." Half of my face was paralyzed.
We went straight to the ER. Although I was pretty sure I wasn't having a stroke, since I could move my limbs and think clearly, it was still scary. Of course my blood pressure was through the roof, too-- because I was panicked.
My cousin, who had survived a brain aneurysm in December, met us at the hospital. I'm glad she was there, but it didn't help my blood pressure. She entertained the girls, and took them back to where we were staying.
The nurses thought Dan and I were freaks. He's doing a bit of his own exam in triage, and the nurse kept asking me where I had heard of Bell's Palsy. When I explained that Dan was a doctor, my cousin a nurse, and my mother-in-law had it once, she calmed down a bit. I felt better when they didn't take blood or put in an IV. I figured if they didn't do any of those things, that they weren't too worried.
An ear exam, a head CT scan, some lower blood pressures, and four hours later (there was a boating accident ahead of us), we discovered I have Ramsay-Hunt Syndrome. Well, Dan did. The ER doc was like, "It's a Bell's Palsy, nothing serious," and when Dan mentioned Ramsay-Hunt, asked Dan if he wanted antibiotic drops for my ear (you med people will understand that means the er guy was a bit of a doofus).
Basically Ramsay-Hunt Syndrome means I have shingles in my ear, which has aggravated my facial nerve. I can't fully close my left eye, and half of my face doesn't move when I talk. Literally, I'm talking out of the side of my mouth. The left side of my face droops a bit. Since my eye doesn't close, I'm sleeping with an eye patch on. I sometimes dribble food or beverages out of the side of my mouth.
Let me tell you, it's been *super*. The pharmacist at the 24 hour pharmacy kept looking at Dan when we dropped off the scripts. They gave me meds to help with the shingles virus that they use to treat herpes and some steroids, and the eye patch. Her look said, "First of all, this woman is no prize, and I'm not sure what kinky games you're going to play with that eye patch."
I'm relieved that this is treatable, and that the paralysis will likely completely resolve (in several weeks). So far, the pain isn't too bad. I can't really pronounce my "fs" so swearing is quite amusing. I never really appreciated how much I used the F-word. Or tell the girls to "Freeze."
I'm used to being on display, what with having Three and all. We often get looks because we are a transracial family. Now, we get even more looks. I'm thinking of getting a t-shirt that says, "I know my face is paralyzed, please stare at my boobs instead."
I'm trying to have a good attitude about it, and not be too impatient for improvement. The running joke with my family is that you can't take my cousin and I anywhere without a head CT first.
I'm just relieved it isn't anything worse. And I even more sensitive to the experience of others who have an obvious disability. I'm not ready to share pictures yet, but I will post some later.
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