Binkytowne

Boo Boo and the Perfect Post

Some of you may recall last month where I went on a bit of a tirade about the Perfect Post awards and changed my mind about them in the process of writing it. Not long after, the lovely Perfect Post ladies also let me know that the name "Perfect Post" came about simply because it sounded good together so no big surprise here- it appears I got my undies in a bundle about nothing.

I read this post and then read it again and again. I'm not sure I want to paraphrase it because I don't know that I could do it justice. Simply put, she has interwoven quotes with her thoughts, gardening with life and life with photos. The clarity of her narrative makes you feel as though you are right there and more peaceful at the end then you were when you started.                                                                            

                                                               

I'd like to nominate Hello Josephine for the June Perfect Post "Wherein I End With A Poem I Used to Think Was Maudlin". (I think Boo Boo would agree).

Boo Boo and the Perfect Post

Some of you may recall last month where I went on a bit of a tirade about the Perfect Post awards and changed my mind about them in the process of writing it. Not long after, the lovely Perfect Post ladies also let me know that the name "Perfect Post" came about simply because it sounded good together so no big surprise here- it appears I got my undies in a bundle about nothing.

I read this post and then read it again and again. I'm not sure I want to paraphrase it because I don't know that I could do it justice. Simply put, she has interwoven quotes with her thoughts, gardening with life and life with photos. The clarity of her narrative makes you feel as though you are right there and more peaceful at the end then you were when you started.                                                                            

                                                               

I'd like to nominate Hello Josephine for the June Perfect Post "Wherein I End With A Poem I Used to Think Was Maudlin". (I think Boo Boo would agree).

First tooth.. first haircut.. first unwarranted trip to the..

                           

E.R.

Note to self: Add to list of 745,659 things that I must be vigilant about making sure the little man is not even close to touching. Ever.

Because then we wind up like this. 

All I was trying to do was make chili. I rinsed out the tomato can and placed it with many other sharp lidded aluminum cans in a paper bag on the floor next to the back door (Bad momma! BAD MOMMA!) where I collect my recyclables. No one told me that aluminum cans that have been opened need to be handled like rouge squirrels who take up residence in your attic. (You need to trap them and drive them at least 30 miles away.)

Along comes little man, he peers into the bag, as he's done a million times. Shiny metal objects momma! Pay attention! No, no- I say and shoo him along. He meanders off, but stumbles one step away from the bag, as he does a million times a day. Does he fall? Kind of, the bag of cans breaks his fall. Yes, the bag of recyclables with the open aluminum cans that apparently jumped up and lodged themselves in the inner forearm of my child.

I was surprisingly calm. Mostly because the little man was more pissed that I made him sit on my lap with a towel pressed into the wound than he was about the gaping hole in his arm. I wanted to take a picture of it and post it so you too would say- hmmmm. I think I would go the ER if that happened, but that just seemed icky.

I call the pediatricians office to see if there is any chance they will see me. It's 12:02. They are going to be at lunch for sure. Oh phew! They answer! They're getting the nurse! Click. They hang up on me.

I call back. Those biddies better answer the phone, they do. They go get the nurse. The nurse says if it looks like he could need stitches, they can't do stitches (What?!!? The Ped's office doesn't do stitches? I would do the freaking stitches if I had the right equipment. Is it too hard for my Ped to do? He can't do stitches? What good is he to me then? WTF???? OK. Focusing) so I should go right to the E.R. I say I can't tell if he needs them. Its not life threatening, but it's definitely worse than a scratch. There's a clear gap in the skin. Can they see him and tell me? Their "policy" is that they need to refer me to the E.R. If I don't feel comfortable with that, I can come in, wait until they can squeeze me in (since it's lunchtime, that's at least 1.5 hours from now) and if he needs stitches they will have to send me away to the E.R.

I call Mr B. Super busy Mr B.  who's got this to offer: What do you want me to do? I don't know what it looks like. Do you need me to come home? This was a patronizing tone, not the very willing to drop everything and help tone. He's no good to me either.

I think for a minute. What's worse. Have the ER Dr's and nurses snicker behind my back for eating up hundreds of dollars of charges for a band-aid or leave it as is and deal with a hungry, tired, irritated toddler in the Ped's office waiting room for what could be hours, fighting off bacteria from all sides. I don't know what to do, I choose the E.R.

We arrive and get evaluated quickly. This I believe, is already worth the additional $75.00 co-pay I'm going to have to shell out above what I would have paid at the Ped's office. The triage nurse says he could need 2-3 stitches and do I think he would object to having his temperature taken rectally? She asked me that with a straight face. Yes, I say. he most definitely would. Under the arm is fine. It's their "policy" to take a rectal temperature with infants. Would he like it better if I did it rectally for him? Ah, no. Not only would he not like it but I'm sure my face started to lose color imaging the frightening decibel of screams that would shriek down the hospital corridors if I stripped him down and stuck a rod in his anus at this point. Under the arm is fine, I repeat. She tries to sway me one more time- It won't be as accurate. I'm starting to get edgy. I'm not a doctor, but I do know he doesn't have a fever and he is bleeding- why are you messing with me?

The doc shows up. She's about 20. Looks like she hasn't slept in 5 days. Looks at it for 3 seconds and tells the nurse to dermabond it. That's a fancy word for superglue. They tell me it's superficial. He won't need stitches, but if it had gone any deeper it would have. They super glue him, put gauze over that, put some sticky tape over that and then put some white sleeve looking thing over that.

Wrapped up like a mummy, with a day-glo sticker in his pocket that says Feeling Funky, he and I were on our way. For what I'm sure will be a $700.00 ER bill, of which I'm guessing we will pay almost all of, because we just changed insurance and have a new family deductible, I received treatment equivalent to that I could have put together for $8.95 at Walgreens.

When the nurse handed us the discharge papers I said thank you for being so kind. I really didn't mean to be a nervous mom rushing in here for a cut. She really was sweet. She patted my arm, told me not to worry, it's better to come in. The risk of infection is much greater for the little ones if left untreated and how was I supposed to know? I wasn't a doctor. She got that right. 

First tooth.. first haircut.. first unwarranted trip to the..

                           

E.R.

Note to self: Add to list of 745,659 things that I must be vigilant about making sure the little man is not even close to touching. Ever.

Because then we wind up like this. 

All I was trying to do was make chili. I rinsed out the tomato can and placed it with many other sharp lidded aluminum cans in a paper bag on the floor next to the back door (Bad momma! BAD MOMMA!) where I collect my recyclables. No one told me that aluminum cans that have been opened need to be handled like rouge squirrels who take up residence in your attic. (You need to trap them and drive them at least 30 miles away.)

Along comes little man, he peers into the bag, as he's done a million times. Shiny metal objects momma! Pay attention! No, no- I say and shoo him along. He meanders off, but stumbles one step away from the bag, as he does a million times a day. Does he fall? Kind of, the bag of cans breaks his fall. Yes, the bag of recyclables with the open aluminum cans that apparently jumped up and lodged themselves in the inner forearm of my child.

I was surprisingly calm. Mostly because the little man was more pissed that I made him sit on my lap with a towel pressed into the wound than he was about the gaping hole in his arm. I wanted to take a picture of it and post it so you too would say- hmmmm. I think I would go the ER if that happened, but that just seemed icky.

I call the pediatricians office to see if there is any chance they will see me. It's 12:02. They are going to be at lunch for sure. Oh phew! They answer! They're getting the nurse! Click. They hang up on me.

I call back. Those biddies better answer the phone, they do. They go get the nurse. The nurse says if it looks like he could need stitches, they can't do stitches (What?!!? The Ped's office doesn't do stitches? I would do the freaking stitches if I had the right equipment. Is it too hard for my Ped to do? He can't do stitches? What good is he to me then? WTF???? OK. Focusing) so I should go right to the E.R. I say I can't tell if he needs them. Its not life threatening, but it's definitely worse than a scratch. There's a clear gap in the skin. Can they see him and tell me? Their "policy" is that they need to refer me to the E.R. If I don't feel comfortable with that, I can come in, wait until they can squeeze me in (since it's lunchtime, that's at least 1.5 hours from now) and if he needs stitches they will have to send me away to the E.R.

I call Mr B. Super busy Mr B.  who's got this to offer: What do you want me to do? I don't know what it looks like. Do you need me to come home? This was a patronizing tone, not the very willing to drop everything and help tone. He's no good to me either.

I think for a minute. What's worse. Have the ER Dr's and nurses snicker behind my back for eating up hundreds of dollars of charges for a band-aid or leave it as is and deal with a hungry, tired, irritated toddler in the Ped's office waiting room for what could be hours, fighting off bacteria from all sides. I don't know what to do, I choose the E.R.

We arrive and get evaluated quickly. This I believe, is already worth the additional $75.00 co-pay I'm going to have to shell out above what I would have paid at the Ped's office. The triage nurse says he could need 2-3 stitches and do I think he would object to having his temperature taken rectally? She asked me that with a straight face. Yes, I say. he most definitely would. Under the arm is fine. It's their "policy" to take a rectal temperature with infants. Would he like it better if I did it rectally for him? Ah, no. Not only would he not like it but I'm sure my face started to lose color imaging the frightening decibel of screams that would shriek down the hospital corridors if I stripped him down and stuck a rod in his anus at this point. Under the arm is fine, I repeat. She tries to sway me one more time- It won't be as accurate. I'm starting to get edgy. I'm not a doctor, but I do know he doesn't have a fever and he is bleeding- why are you messing with me?

The doc shows up. She's about 20. Looks like she hasn't slept in 5 days. Looks at it for 3 seconds and tells the nurse to dermabond it. That's a fancy word for superglue. They tell me it's superficial. He won't need stitches, but if it had gone any deeper it would have. They super glue him, put gauze over that, put some sticky tape over that and then put some white sleeve looking thing over that.

Wrapped up like a mummy, with a day-glo sticker in his pocket that says Feeling Funky, he and I were on our way. For what I'm sure will be a $700.00 ER bill, of which I'm guessing we will pay almost all of, because we just changed insurance and have a new family deductible, I received treatment equivalent to that I could have put together for $8.95 at Walgreens.

When the nurse handed us the discharge papers I said thank you for being so kind. I really didn't mean to be a nervous mom rushing in here for a cut. She really was sweet. She patted my arm, told me not to worry, it's better to come in. The risk of infection is much greater for the little ones if left untreated and how was I supposed to know? I wasn't a doctor. She got that right. 

Much better thanks

Thanks to all who offered advice or good old fashioned virtual support over the past few days!

Turns out we had a mild version of croup. He was fine when he was up and around but as soon as he fell asleep the barking would commence. We had to travel to the in-laws this weekend, it could not be avoided and I thought, brilliant! Sleeping up right in the car seat! This will solve all of our problems! WRONG! Apparently, this virus activates when eyes close. Saturday he did not sleep at all- I think that's the first time since he was born that he didn't nap in any way shape or form for a whole day. Was he grouchy? Oh. You have no idea. Not coughing, but very unhappy none the less. (Get it? That's Seal. Barking? Like a seal? Get it?)

All things considered, it wasn't so bad. I expected much worse. If any of you have had to take care of a sick toddler at someone else's house, you will know that when you return home it's exponentially easier to tend to them than it had been when you were away. He's MUCH better today.. oh. yeah. Except for the huge gaping gash in his arm. More on that tomorrow.   

Much better thanks

Thanks to all who offered advice or good old fashioned virtual support over the past few days!

Turns out we had a mild version of croup. He was fine when he was up and around but as soon as he fell asleep the barking would commence. We had to travel to the in-laws this weekend, it could not be avoided and I thought, brilliant! Sleeping up right in the car seat! This will solve all of our problems! WRONG! Apparently, this virus activates when eyes close. Saturday he did not sleep at all- I think that's the first time since he was born that he didn't nap in any way shape or form for a whole day. Was he grouchy? Oh. You have no idea. Not coughing, but very unhappy none the less. (Get it? That's Seal. Barking? Like a seal? Get it?)

All things considered, it wasn't so bad. I expected much worse. If any of you have had to take care of a sick toddler at someone else's house, you will know that when you return home it's exponentially easier to tend to them than it had been when you were away. He's MUCH better today.. oh. yeah. Except for the huge gaping gash in his arm. More on that tomorrow.   

OH CROUP!

Calling all MommyBloggers!

Croup has been going around little man's day care this week. Whenever something like this happens they post a notice on the sign-in sheet and every day I hold my breath hoping I won't see one.  I don't want to him to be sick- his first few months in day care he was sick all the time and it sucked. Last year around this same time we had some terrible fever/rash combination that our pediatrician just could not diagnose and I spend three days unable to go to the bathroom because the baby would only sleep if I held him.

When I start to see signs of anything other than the garden variety cold it pains me almost as much as it pains him. The anxiety of not knowing where it hurts, what I should do, how long it will last drives me batty. I hover over him, check him a million times when he naps, keep the rapid response thermometer on me at all times and monitor his temperature with more frequency and accuracy than an ER nurse. I watch his eyes, trying to gage just how lousy he feels and search for clues. I realize this is not good for me or for him. He does not need a whacked out mother fretting about every little thing as he gets older. Rule number one of motherhood = Your kids will get sick.

Monday the dreaded sign was out. There have been two confirmed cases of Croup in the Minnow room. *&^%.  The day care teachers seemed pretty non-chalant about it. If he has it, they tell me, as long as he doesn't have a fever he can come in. How will I know if he has it I ask? Oh you'll know. It's a barky sounding cough. Like a seal. Like they can't get a breath.

WHAT?!! Like they can't get a breath? I'm sorry but anything that causes difficulty breathing is NOT allowed.

I rush to read the baby books when I get home. I DO NOT feel better. This stuff is scaring the life out of me. Call the doctor if his lips turn blue?  Umm. You can bet if his lips are even slightly translucent I'll be speeding to the emergency room at the speed of light. Sit in the bathroom for 10-20 minutes with the shower running to ease his airway? to EASE HIS AIRWAY? This is not cool.

This morning he woke up with a cough I've never heard before. Not a bad cough or a frequent one, he still ate breakfast, read books, played with his matchbox cars, but it was definitely bark-ish sounding. Not exactly like a seal, but definitely different than I've ever heard. 

I sent him to day care today and told them to call me if he's acting like he doesn't feel well and I'll come and take him home. This really is a downside of being a working mom. I'd like to be home with him today because I can tell he doesn't feel well, but I can't because if he really gets sick over the weekend, I need to save those days for when there is no question that he needs mommy care. 

Has anyone experienced the croup? I'm not understanding the disconnect between how awful the baby books make it sound and how relaxed the day care seemed about it. Any ass-vice? Words of wisdom? Reassurance from the mom crew? If you've got it- pass it on. My stressed out virally challenged psyche thanks you.

Shout out to GGC, battling her own viral issues at home and opening up the discussion on educating ourselves and each other. 

 

OH CROUP!

Calling all MommyBloggers!

Croup has been going around little man's day care this week. Whenever something like this happens they post a notice on the sign-in sheet and every day I hold my breath hoping I won't see one.  I don't want to him to be sick- his first few months in day care he was sick all the time and it sucked. Last year around this same time we had some terrible fever/rash combination that our pediatrician just could not diagnose and I spend three days unable to go to the bathroom because the baby would only sleep if I held him.

When I start to see signs of anything other than the garden variety cold it pains me almost as much as it pains him. The anxiety of not knowing where it hurts, what I should do, how long it will last drives me batty. I hover over him, check him a million times when he naps, keep the rapid response thermometer on me at all times and monitor his temperature with more frequency and accuracy than an ER nurse. I watch his eyes, trying to gage just how lousy he feels and search for clues. I realize this is not good for me or for him. He does not need a whacked out mother fretting about every little thing as he gets older. Rule number one of motherhood = Your kids will get sick.

Monday the dreaded sign was out. There have been two confirmed cases of Croup in the Minnow room. *&^%.  The day care teachers seemed pretty non-chalant about it. If he has it, they tell me, as long as he doesn't have a fever he can come in. How will I know if he has it I ask? Oh you'll know. It's a barky sounding cough. Like a seal. Like they can't get a breath.

WHAT?!! Like they can't get a breath? I'm sorry but anything that causes difficulty breathing is NOT allowed.

I rush to read the baby books when I get home. I DO NOT feel better. This stuff is scaring the life out of me. Call the doctor if his lips turn blue?  Umm. You can bet if his lips are even slightly translucent I'll be speeding to the emergency room at the speed of light. Sit in the bathroom for 10-20 minutes with the shower running to ease his airway? to EASE HIS AIRWAY? This is not cool.

This morning he woke up with a cough I've never heard before. Not a bad cough or a frequent one, he still ate breakfast, read books, played with his matchbox cars, but it was definitely bark-ish sounding. Not exactly like a seal, but definitely different than I've ever heard. 

I sent him to day care today and told them to call me if he's acting like he doesn't feel well and I'll come and take him home. This really is a downside of being a working mom. I'd like to be home with him today because I can tell he doesn't feel well, but I can't because if he really gets sick over the weekend, I need to save those days for when there is no question that he needs mommy care. 

Has anyone experienced the croup? I'm not understanding the disconnect between how awful the baby books make it sound and how relaxed the day care seemed about it. Any ass-vice? Words of wisdom? Reassurance from the mom crew? If you've got it- pass it on. My stressed out virally challenged psyche thanks you.

Shout out to GGC, battling her own viral issues at home and opening up the discussion on educating ourselves and each other. 

 

Food Day Awards

There are a few bright spots in the corporate work week. One of them being the all-inclusive Food Day. Birthdays, holidays, weddings, baby showers, all excellent excuses to bring food to work, station it right smack in the middle of the isle and graze all day on a butt load of cheese and other good stuff.

Wait- wasn't I just complaining about needing to lose ten pounds before summer? What? Today is the summer solstice?  It's officially summer? Oh Rubbish.

It was someones birthday today (not mine) which means that you must be starving for some               

                             FOOD DAY AWARDS   

The award for best effort goes to: Me- of course! I volunteered to make a chocolate cake. Finding myself lacking both eggs and energy, I couldn't. Being the trooper that I am, I didn't stop at a crappy grocery store and buy the cheapest thing I could find. I went across town, before work, during a torrential downpour in the middle of a severe thunderstorm warning ( which are stupid. If a tornado is not heading directly down my street, I don't need to hear about every six seconds. I can recognize a bad thunderstorm, thanks) to a real bakery and got a lovely marble cake with butter cream frosting, personally inscribed for the b-day girl. When it comes to cake I don't mess around. Birthday cake is serious business. Mmmm. That cake was good. Maybe I'll have another sliver.

The award for most lame effort is a tie between:

The co-worker who clearly brought stale sandwich buns that have been sitting in her freezer. How do I know that? Because they were  A) stale and B) still frozen. How about this? Let's all assume that stale food should not satisfy your food day obligations. If you can't afford to stop at the store and buy a dozen not-stale sandwich buns, then don't sign up.

and

The co-worker who brought in food that was prepared by her mother, who also babysat for her child all day. Said co-worker was invited out at the last minute after work, so her mother not only kept her child for her, but prepared a rocking good dish. I'm jealous she went out on a work night and I love a solid food day dish, but if your mother made it for you and you are forty, that's lame. I'm sorry, it's true.

The award for best food day item: Spinach salad bringing lady. Spinach leaves, strawberries, nuts and a yummy poppy seed dressing. What's not to love? Fresh, healthy, tasty and easily re-creatable for my next party invite. 

The award for the least imaginative food day item: Cheese and cracker plate lady. Or possibly, maybe she's the most imaginative. Cheese and summer sausage=summer solstice? Coincidence? Not likely, but perhaps.

The award for most missed food day item: Salty snacks. Why is there no taco dip? No potato chips? No Doritos? One of the things I love most about food days is eating all the things from the deep fried chip food group that I don't allow myself to buy. My turkey sandwich on a stale whole wheat bun was very lonely and longing for a salty crunchy chip.

The award for most clever food day participant: The I brought the plates/silverware/napkins lady. Inexpensive and easy to carry and counts, even though no preparation is required.  

The award for best food day beverage: Minute Maid Light lady. 10 calories per can. Smart. Now I can eat more cake.   

    

 

Food Day Awards

There are a few bright spots in the corporate work week. One of them being the all-inclusive Food Day. Birthdays, holidays, weddings, baby showers, all excellent excuses to bring food to work, station it right smack in the middle of the isle and graze all day on a butt load of cheese and other good stuff.

Wait- wasn't I just complaining about needing to lose ten pounds before summer? What? Today is the summer solstice?  It's officially summer? Oh Rubbish.

It was someones birthday today (not mine) which means that you must be starving for some               

                             FOOD DAY AWARDS   

The award for best effort goes to: Me- of course! I volunteered to make a chocolate cake. Finding myself lacking both eggs and energy, I couldn't. Being the trooper that I am, I didn't stop at a crappy grocery store and buy the cheapest thing I could find. I went across town, before work, during a torrential downpour in the middle of a severe thunderstorm warning ( which are stupid. If a tornado is not heading directly down my street, I don't need to hear about every six seconds. I can recognize a bad thunderstorm, thanks) to a real bakery and got a lovely marble cake with butter cream frosting, personally inscribed for the b-day girl. When it comes to cake I don't mess around. Birthday cake is serious business. Mmmm. That cake was good. Maybe I'll have another sliver.

The award for most lame effort is a tie between:

The co-worker who clearly brought stale sandwich buns that have been sitting in her freezer. How do I know that? Because they were  A) stale and B) still frozen. How about this? Let's all assume that stale food should not satisfy your food day obligations. If you can't afford to stop at the store and buy a dozen not-stale sandwich buns, then don't sign up.

and

The co-worker who brought in food that was prepared by her mother, who also babysat for her child all day. Said co-worker was invited out at the last minute after work, so her mother not only kept her child for her, but prepared a rocking good dish. I'm jealous she went out on a work night and I love a solid food day dish, but if your mother made it for you and you are forty, that's lame. I'm sorry, it's true.

The award for best food day item: Spinach salad bringing lady. Spinach leaves, strawberries, nuts and a yummy poppy seed dressing. What's not to love? Fresh, healthy, tasty and easily re-creatable for my next party invite. 

The award for the least imaginative food day item: Cheese and cracker plate lady. Or possibly, maybe she's the most imaginative. Cheese and summer sausage=summer solstice? Coincidence? Not likely, but perhaps.

The award for most missed food day item: Salty snacks. Why is there no taco dip? No potato chips? No Doritos? One of the things I love most about food days is eating all the things from the deep fried chip food group that I don't allow myself to buy. My turkey sandwich on a stale whole wheat bun was very lonely and longing for a salty crunchy chip.

The award for most clever food day participant: The I brought the plates/silverware/napkins lady. Inexpensive and easy to carry and counts, even though no preparation is required.  

The award for best food day beverage: Minute Maid Light lady. 10 calories per can. Smart. Now I can eat more cake.