A first of many

Andy got in a fight at school last week. Actually, he got in two fights. My seemingly well behaved, good natured kid managed to clock two kids on the same day. It wasn't even with one of the so-called bad kids in his class (and every class even at this age has a kid who seems to always be in trouble for something so I could understand hitting that kid). Nope, these were two separate kids -- a boy and a girl.

The hit on Chelsea wasn't so bad apparently. They were playing and she took something so he bonked her with a plastic shovel. The other, the worse of the two, was his friend Evan. Apparently Evan "wasn't playing right" so Andy hit him. And actually made him bleed. Great.

Bjorn got the news from his teacher that afternoon. He's such a good kid normally she was embarrassed to have to tell him. When we talked to Andy about it, he was so matter of fact and not sorry at all. "He wasn't playing right." or "She hurt my feelings." Later I ran into Evan and his mom at the library and got to apologize for his behavior. She understood -- apparently Evan said he took Andy's toy and wouldn't give it back. But still. I am sure I'm going to be apologizing for my kids for the next 20 years ago. Then it will be time for them to apologize for me.

Mini-Andy

Meg is in a hero worship stage with her big brother. I imagine this will last off and on the rest of her life. She really wants to do everything he does. Andy is riding his bike? She wants on the bike. He plays with the water table? She wants to stick her hands in. A few days ago I even took out the high chair (perhaps even, gasp, forever!) and put in a booster seat right next to Andy's chair. She is thrilled to be right next to him. Now I just have to make sure to feed them the same stuff because she totally notices if he gets juice and she gets milk.

What is also fun about this stage is that he's old enough to teach her things. Like tonight at dinner he was teaching her the "open, shut them" song that they sing at school before meals. It involves holding up your hands and clapping. He was proudly showing her and she was doing it. I know, beyond adorable.

Also adorable, Andy pretends that Meg tells him things. So she'll say, "Baba baby oweyo." And he'll say, "Mom, she says Daisy is not a fan of President Obama's plans for health reform." Okay, it's really more like, "Mom, she said she's not going to let me play with the blocks ever because her baby wants them." I do find that she is saying some real words and even some two word sentences, but certainly not to the extent he gives her credit for.

Sibling rivalry

It was bound to happen. Once the kids could play together, they would naturally learn how to fight, too. Case in point, Andy was building a "road" with his big living room blocks. Meg decided to get in on the action by finding the biggest block and promptly sitting on it. Andy cried/whined and then pushed her off. She then came appealing to me for intervention. I'll admit I'm not sure what to do with all this. My options here are:

a) Try to get Meg interested in something else or out of the room.
b) Get Andy to be okay with her in the midst of his "work."
c) Discipline Andy for pushing her and let her have the blocks.
d) Have another glass of wine.
e) Some combination of the above.

Thoughts?

Out of the mouths of babes

"Andy, why did you say that? It's not nice to say, 'Mommy, get away from me.''
"I don't know. I think it was germs. Some strange germs got in my mouth and made me say that."

Pictures

Andy and Marc in the pool on the fourth. It has been remarkably coolish here so they were the only ones brave enough to get in the pool. I love the artistic water shot Bjorn got.
Meg and Lauren eating outside while we prepared fireworks. I posted this picture because this expression she has in the photo reminds me of someone in the family, but I can't quite place it.

I love the fun that can come from something as simple as a diaper box. Here the kids are in Andy's "boat." He is at a stage where his imagination is really taking off. He turns all sorts of every day items into his imaginary playthings. I love it.

Andy was so tired from school last week he went to "rest" on our bed and fell asleep half-way off. I was tickled by the picture and by the way his hair fell.

Follow up appointment or how long does it take for a toddler to pee in a bag?

We had a follow up appointment for Meg this morning. Our doctor's office has Saturday walk-in hours for sick only (i.e. no appointments), but he wanted her to come in to check her urine to see if the infection was gone. Despite improvements since Wednesday, she still hasn't been herself the last few days. Thursday she was still pretty fussy throughout the day and very tired with a fever. Even on Friday she slept until 10:15 (unheard of!) and was only up for about two hours before she needed a nap. I did call the doctor to ask if that was okay. Granted, she was better -- lower fever, no vomiting, eating and normal bowel movements, but she still wasn't herself. He said that sick as she'd been, it was going to take a while to improve and so long as she was making eye contact and walking normally, she was progressing okay. I must say I appreciated Dr. Murphys' calm reassurances. He has not normally been my favorite, what with calling me "mom" all the time (which everyone at the ER did, too -- must be an industry standard), but he's been great through this.

Anyway, we went in today. Meg was perkier and generally happier, especially after a breakfast that included chocolate chip cupcakes that I baked to bring to the doctor's office (I am nothing but a suck-up). She was playing nicely in the waiting room until we went back and Dr. Murphy laid her down to attach the plastic pee bag. Poor thing, her legs were shaking as she clearly remembered how it went the last time a doctor laid her out. She was also shaking when the nurse came to draw blood from her toe (and she cried and was MAD about it). Now I just needed to wait for her to pee in the bag. Which took two hours, despite my plying her with nine ounces of Pedialyte in a baby bottle.

The good news, her white blood cell count is down to 30,000 from 40,000 on Wednesday. That means the antibiotics are working and the infection is working its way out. Now we wait until tomorrow to see if bacteria grows in the urine sample.

The theory is that last week when she had diarrhea, that a little bit of the poop made its way where it shouldn't causing the bladder/urinary tract infection (despite being different pieces of anatomy, the diagnoses are interchangeable). The cold she has is just a secondary infection. We will go back in about two weeks to check her urine when she's allegedly healthy to see if there is an infection. If she's clear, that's all fine, but if she's got an infection, it may be a sign that she's got an anatomical problem that would warrant more testing.

In all of this, Bjorn says, "Hey, have you seen the big cat? I haven't seen her since last night. The little cat came in the morning, but I haven't seen Coltrane." So with all this, we're casing the streets looking for a cat. Andy doesn't care since he's already decided he wants a black kitten. Fortunately, as my hope is waning she comes trotting up the driveway, seemingly healthy and covered in grass like she's been hiding in some one's yard. Phew. I wasn't sure how much more drama I needed this week.

Our first real trip to the ER

Little Miss Margaret got her first trip to the ER tonight. After another hitting the Wednesday mark with no improvement since Monday, we went back to the pediatrician who ran some blood work, another strep test, a urine test and whatever other tests. He couldn't find anything except that her white blood cell count was 40,000. Apparently that's really high. Normal is like 12,000. That was the sign that some bacteria was amiss in her system. He suspected it might be pneumonia and he gently said we'd have to go to the emergency room for better blood work and chest X-rays. Meg was fussy at the news (well, all day for a week, really) and I teared up even.

I headed over to Fairfax hospital next to my office and had the good sense to call an office friend to meet me. Bjorn was in Richmond for the day so I called Jennifer to pick up Andy who coordinated with Mark to babysit.

The whole event was pretty awful and tear-wrenching (for me as well) as they poked and prodded a kid who obviously didn't feel well. The X-rays were uncomfortable, but not so bad. What sucked was the catheter for the urine sample. What sucked worse was them looking for a vein and then getting the IV into her little right hand and covering it up with a strange little collar. They finally came back after probably four hours with a diagnosis of a urinary tract infection. She got some IV antibiotics and a script for omnicef and a follow-up with her doctor.

Fortunately, by the end, she had perked up with some IV fluids, Motrin and cuddles with Daddy. She was really tired, but not as sad and mopey (and dehydrated) as before.

As for me, I'm exhausted and going to bed.

Neurotic mess

Can someone explain to me why I am more neurotic with the second kid than the first? Doesn't that defy normal logic? Both are (relatively) healthy, beautiful kids. Both so far are following all the normal milestone progression. So why is it when she gets something I totally freak out?

Case in point, Meg has a fever. A high one, clocking in at 104 today. It started with her diarrhea/barfing adventure on Tuesday and Wednesday. Thursday she was a little warm and by Friday (when I left to go out of town), she went up to 102 and tracked off and on like that all weekend. I got home last night and she was seeming better, but she didn't eat much and had a rough night, waking up 2-3 times and still had a fever in the morning. I took her to the doctor this morning. Fortunately, no strep and no ear infection, but she does have a sore throat and a fever. Apparently a virus is going around that lasts about three to five days and the recommendation was to keep her hydrated and medicate the fever as necessary.

Ayesha kindly offered to watch her for a few hours while I "took rest" as she calls it since I worked all weekend and didn't sleep much while I was away only to be up a lot of last night. I rested and then went to pick her up about four after a few hours. As Andy and I arrived, Meg had just thrown up her snack and was incredibly listless. It was freaking me out to see her so limp and hot, alternating with chills, not to mention clingy and just sort of out it. I tried to give her some Tylenol, and after about five minutes, she threw that up, too. Ayesha asked if we should go to the emergency room with her fever so high, which sort of freaked me out, too. I called the doctor and left a detailed message. After about 30 minutes, I called back (now armed with the 104 temperature news) and she seemed somewhat annoyed to be forced by her receptionist to take my call.

"I imagine with a fever that high she would be miserable and achey. You should get some Tylenol suppositories, which sell under the name Feverall. They might be behind the counter. For her weight, give her 160 mg. Give her comfort foods, Pedialyte and white grape juice in small quantities. The fever may get worse overnight and be better in the morning for a couple more days." She earlier to come back Wednesday if it's not better.

Fortunately, the last dose of Tylenol I gave her before I got the Feverall stayed down as did the Motrin I gave her about an hour later bringing her temp down to 99.8. She even was hungry for what Andy was having for dinner and drank some Pedialyte. I am hopeful I can consistently work to keep her temperature down until this works its way through.

So why does this freak me out so? Was I just too naive the first time around? Do I just know now that I can bug the doctor when I have a question rather than be a martyr and wait? Am I just more impatient now and I want an answer/treatment now? Is it that two pregnancies have made my pregnancy brain permanent?

In other news, Andy keeps singing, "Who let the dogs in? Who, who, who?"

Bjornism

I have to give Bjorn credit, he is definitely more of a half-glass full guy than a half-empty kind of guy. It's usually a good balance for me since I tend to be more cautious. Today is a perfect example.

Meg and Andy were beyond adorable after dinner as they were both in an empty diaper box "driving." I think it was a bus, but it could have been a boat. I'm not sure Andy was entirely clear. But they were playing together and laughing.

"Wow. Isn't that adorable? It's so great that they can play together a little now," I said.
"Yeah, it really is great. 'Andy, you are being a good big brother,'" said Bjorn.
"It was a long way to go for this, but I do love it."
"Are you kidding? This is worth everything."

I know, what a sweetheart.

I leave for a work trip for the weekend tomorrow. Meg has been sick this week starting with diarrhea Tuesday followed by the barfs Tuesday night into Wednesday. I was up with her Tuesday night and then Bjorn stayed home with her yesterday (again, what a good guy.) She was really whiny and sad off and on during the day (and refusing Tylenol) so it was so great when she woke up this morning much more like herself. It makes me appreciate the joy the kids were having together all the morning.

Oh, what's up with Michael Jackson today? I just have to add that my mom wins cool points for taking us to his Thriller concert at Texas Stadium back in like 1980. The killer? We had front row seats. Apparently Mom sent away by mail for the tickets from the back of a Rolling Stone magazine. Totally cool.

Happy Father's Day

Two days late, I wanted to give a shout-out to Bjorn for Father's day. I love that he loves his kids, all four of them. At each stage, he has said every age is the best age. His positive attitude is a great asset on a day where both the big kids have asked for money and both the little kids have thrown consecutive temper tantrums. Seriously, he's a sweet guy, a good husband, very smart, and except for being just a little too chatty and know-it-all ity (I know, pot/kettle?), I'm glad he's my baby daddy.

Oh, pictures are from his birthday two weeks earlier, but I thought it was cute. I also need to hide those thick flannel winter pajamas as Andy insists on wearing them and then when I check on him in the night I find him sweating like Pete Schweaty.

Social media

It's weird, with the fun stuff like Facebook and Twitter (which I now am using a lot for work, thank you very much), I find I'm neglecting my blog. It's a shame, too, since this is my excuse for not really doing a baby book to record what my kids are doing. It's just that I'm finding it's more fun and immediate to post little things here and there rathering to really think about a post. Plus, there is all the fun of stalking high school and college friends to see what they're up to. It's like the best reunion I've never been to in that I get to see what everyone is doing, send some e-mails, view some pictures but not have to endure the awkward half drunk conversation at the Marriott over a $5 Bud light.

In other news, the kids are almost playing with each other right now. And I say almost because she wants to do what he's doing, but his initial interest in that wanes quickly and he whines and cries that she's taking something/breaking his fort/doing something else clearly evil and wrong. I've even witnessed him give her that a little too hard push or smack her almost testing to see what happens. I can see a future of "S/he's touching me."

Meanwhile, we're trying to plan an August get-away to Lewes, Delaware. I've been corresponding with a realtor about rentals, but I don't know the area. Anybody have a clue? I'm just afraid what looks fine in pictures is really in Dowistrepla or something.

Dolly

Dollies. Having a boy first, we never really went through baby dolls. Andy has his dogs and never really showed much interest in dolls. Of course, I don't think I ever gave him one explicitly, but when we were with my nieces or other girls with them, he wanted to play with the baby stroller and not the baby.

Now I have a daughter and things are different.

I picked Meg up from her babysitter's on Monday and she was dragging around a baby doll. She was reluctant to give it up so Ayesha let me take her home. I promptly named her Daisy after the famous air gun that I'd seen with my folks at the NRA firearms museum that day. (I'm not a queen of naming stuffed animals like Betsy, but I am actually rather proud of this one).

Since then, she's been carrying Daisy everywhere and sleeping with her. Not to be left out, Andy now says he wants a doll, too. I tried to give him a soft doll that my mother gave Meg for Christmas, a doll I promptly named Remy, short for Remington, sticking with my weapons theme. He instead wants one just like hers. That doll that we haven't gotten yet, will be a boy, Andy says. And I will name him Colt, after the rifle as well as the after the Texas quarterback Colt McCoy.

Picture is somewhat unrelated, but I really like it.

Hooray

My folks were visiting this weekend so my dad could be honored with an award for his legal writing (go Dad!) so we went (well, I forced them) to hit the Newseum that I've been trying to visit for at least a year. It was great and I want to go spend more time there, but the highlight was getting this great picture.

Classic.

I conned Andy into taking a nap yesterday. I knew he was tired and made him like next to me quietly in my bed. After about 15 minutes, he actually fell asleep. By then it was already 2:30 and I knew Meg would be waking up soon so I opted to crawl out quietly to do some work on my laptop rather than try to get in a nap that would be so short it would just piss me off.

About 10 minutes later, I heard a thumb, followed by a cry. Andy had fallen out of bed. I quickly scooped him back up and tucked him back into bed.

"That was funny," Andy said. And then he passed out for another hour.

Adorableness.

Boo!

I have a baby board book called Baby Boo! (thanks Frances, I think it was a hand-me-down from you actually.) It's got like eight pages and 15 words in the whole thing, so I love to read it too as it doesn't take forever to get through. On one page, you ask where the baby is and on the next page, it says "boo" to a smiling baby's face. In total adorableness, Meg now says "boo" when we read it, sometimes even on the right page!

She's getting so interactive right now I just love it.

One of those days

My kids had one of those days yesterday. That alone isn't that notable, but they chose yesterday to both have a bad day. At the same time. At the same time as it was pouring down rain. It started with Meg's ear follow up appointment. I was surprised to hear that her latest ear infection didn't clear up with the Suprax as expected. Next up, Augmentin. She had that last about six months ago (ages in the life of a 16 month old) and it caused some diarrhea. But that could have been due to something she ate or the antibiotics. I guess we'll see. The concern now is that this may be speeding up the timetable on ear tubes.

In any event, after the visit, we dropped off the prescription at the CVS drive-through (we're now good friends with the folks there). Then I needed to go to Target for a few things. There, they both proceeded to whine and wiggle through the entire store. If one wasn't crying, the other was and then they both were. Meg is now of an age (and temperament) that when she doesn't want something, she can really arch her back and make it difficult to carry her. So I couldn't contain her in the cart or control her on her feet. And Andy was just crybabying the whole way. Ugh.

Then we needed to head into the library to return DVDs from our trip and pick up a new one. This whole exercise usually takes five minutes, but Andy was still whining about everything (including all the "strangers" in the library and Meg was running away from me and/or climbing on chairs. It got so bad I had one librarian helping Andy who was crying because I had to run to grab Meg and he was crying that I had left. Then as we checked out, Meg ran off and I had a nice lady behind me with three kids of her own holding her while I checked out and Andy cried about not wanting to check out at a certain station. Big stuff.

We went home for a nap (hers at least) then we trekked into town to see an old high school friend who was visiting with her two kids and staying in Dupont Circle. In the afternoon, they were better, but I did discover upon returning that when Andy was having "quiet time," what he did was write all over his pillows with markers. Good times. I had several glasses of wine last night.

And then? Both kids slept until 8 this morning, which is unheard of. Then they were then precious angels most of the day, playing, smiling, eating properly. Meg took a power nap in the afternoon and I even got a nap in (which always makes me in a better mood.) What a difference a day makes sometimes.

Adorableness

Megan, Andy and Emma at the DCC last weekend. I know, they are totally beautiful.

Photo gallery

Meg didn't get to go on our trip, so I had to take adorable pictures of her before I left to show off. Note the new pink shoes and the open strap -- she insists on keeping the straps un-velcroed. I can't explain it. This was also after she climbed the big kid slide and went down by herself. That kid is a fearless climber.

Tia with Emma and her totally awesome hair that morning.

My birthday tiara was actually far less interesting than the seriously awesome fudge cake Mom, Mary and Bitsie picked up at Celebrity Deli.

Bjorn is horrified by his manly little boy dressed in a hula skirt and pink hat. I personally think he looks pretty cute.

The customary bathtub picture of the kids. We are going to try to get a photo every time they're together in the tub. This will probably be a problem in few years with a very high mortification factor.

Uh oh

Tonight Andy took the Neosporin and covered his naked body in it.

"Look, Mommy. I'm all slippery."

I should have taken a photo and didn't, but his whole body looked like it was getting ready for a G-string and a strip club.

Vacay

Andy and I are in Dallas at the moment. We came for a quick trip for a long weekend to visit leaving Bjorn and Meggie Meg at home. It's been fun and weird just having one kid. Andy has loved the attention. Well, when he's noticed me. He's be loving playing with his cousin Megan and occasionally Emma. It's been nice to not have to be so rigid about bedtimes and naps as a four year old is more flexible than a 16-month-old, but I have missed her. Emma is 22-months though and I love watching her closely to get a feel for what's coming my way. She is almost talking and is generally more into running and playing than Meg is at the moment.  I know Meg is going to really love playing with her the next time we're together. 

The trip has been too short to be able to really look anyone up unfortunately. Next time...