marydell: (charlie-superman)
Me: Ok, honey, say bye-bye, I have to go to work.
Charlie: I come with you? I come too, Mommy.
Me: sorry, I can't drive you today or I'll be late. Daddy's going to take you to school.
Charlie: No, Mommy, I come with you!
Me: Tomorrow, honey, not today. I have a meeting, I can't be late. Say bye-bye.
Charlie: No! No say bye bye! I come with you! (*makes incipient-tantrum face*)
Me: (noticing loose money in my coat pocket) ...How about if I give you this dollar?
Charlie: Okay!
Me: *gives him a dollar*
Charlie: Bye bye, Mommy!
marydell: My hand holding a medusa head sculpture (by me) that's missing its snakes (Default)
Charlie, 8 AM: I want jello (brandishing a jello cup)
Me: you don't need jello, put it back in the fridge.
Charlie: I want jello.
Me: not now, you can have jello with lunch.
Charlie: I want lunch.
Me: do you just want lunch so you can have jello?
Charlie: Yes.


Charlie, playing with toy "Jokermobile:" Where guys?
Me: your guys for the car? (goes and finds Joker toy guy) here's the Joker.
Charlie: thanks!
Charlie: hey, where bad guy?
Me: bad guy? You mean Batman?
Charlie: yeah, Batman. Bad guy.
marydell: (charlie-twizzler)

What does a cat say?

Me: time for a bath, Charlie
Charlie: no want bath.
Me: you need to take a bath.
Charlie: No want bath.
(repeat times infinity)
(While Mike runs the bath, I try changing the subject to "animal noises" by asking about the toy cat he is holding)
Me: (pointing to toy cat) What does a cat say, Charlie? 
Charlie: (ponders for a moment)...cat says No want bath.

Choo choos forever!

Me: (after playing choo choos on the floor for oh gods, an eternity it seems like) Ok, I need a break.
Charlie: No, Mommy, no break! Play choo choos.
Me: My back hurts, so I need to sit in a chair for a bit.
Charlie: No, Mommy, no chair! Come on, it's fun!
Me: What, do you want me to play choo choos forever?
Charlie: (latching onto new word) Yeah, forever! Play choo choos forever, Mommy
Me: Uh, I don't think so. I'm taking a break now, I'll play more later.
Charlie: (grumbling) *Daddy* plays choo choos forever.

marydell: (charlie-sillybandz)
IMAG0148

Charlie: I want go downstairs [to the playroom]
Me: No, we have to get ready for school.
Charlie: I want go downstairs!
Me: No.
Charlie: I want go downstairs.
Me: I said no. Stop asking.
Charlie: I want go downstairs.
Me: Ok, who's the boss?
Charlie: (thinks for a moment) You boss, Mommy.
Me: That's right.
Charlie: I want go downstairs.

Charlie: (discovers my watches in my jewelry box) Clocks! I want clocks.
Me: (puts 4 watches on his wrist while he waits patiently) Ok, you can try them on, be careful, those are Mommy's watches.
Charlie: no, these Charlie's clocks! (runs off with them)

Me: (heading to bed around midnight, finding Charlie waiting by the stairs for me) Charlie, why are you up? Do you need the potty?
Charlie: (delighted smile) Hi, Mommy! I got up!!
Me: Ok, let's go back to bed, it's the middle of the night.
Charlie: Oh, I can't sleep NOW, Mommy! (Proceeds to stay awake for 2 hours)

Me: Take off your [Mickey Mouse] shirt, here's a clean shirt
Charlie: No, I wear Mickey
Me: That shirt is dirty, Charlie, you need to put on a clean shirt (shows him clean shirt)
Charlie: (grabs clean shirt, rubs it on the side of his head) It dirty! It dirty now (flings clean shirt away).

marydell: (charlie-superman)

So yesterday Charlie had an Echocardiagram (aka ECHO) (result:  good news, for those who can't stand suspense).  He was born with a small hole in his heart called a PFO (patent foramen ovale), which often can close on its own.  At a year old, however, it had grown, instead of closing, and at about half a centemeter was upgraded to being called an ASD (atrial septal defect).  If it continued growing, the doc told us at that time, it would need a repair when he reached 4 years old--a small screen inserted via cardiac catheter.  In the meantime it wouldn't cause any problem, but should be checked yearly. 

He should have had this ECHO about a year ago, but a year ago we were in the midst of random unpredictable violent mood stuff, plus regular vomiting and respiratory illness, so we focused on that instead, ultimately resolving it by treating his apparently very bad GERD and changing his antihistamines.

So, then he should have had this ECHO a couple of months ago, but he decided to have Scarlet Fever on the day he was scheduled, so we had to reschedule.

He should have had it at our local branch of the Heart Institute for Children, but they're booked through the end of winter, so we scheduled at a branch an hour away from home.

Mike was supposed to take him, and I spent a half week agonizing over what a terrible mother I am for conserving my last few vacation days (I have had 4 remaining through the end of March, whereas Mike has a bunch more than that and his roll over in January) in case Charlie needs to get tubes in his ears or some other drama happens before April.  I knew he'd be scared of the procedure and Mike is very comforting but I am Charlie's favorite security blanket.  But with difficulty I reconciled myself to being absent for this.

Then Mike got a cold.  Not a bad cold, but we don't go sit in waiting rooms full of medically fragile children when we have viruses, and this is a pediatric cardiology specialty office.  So I took the day off to take Charlie to his appointment, thus fixing my agonizing about motherhood and replacing it with worrying about my career instead.

So, Charlie was supposed to have the ECHO at 9 am.  We got to the place and the elevator wasn't working. People were taking the stairs and with the help of some M&M's I coaxed Charlie into the stairwell despite his protests of "too scary!" (This after several plaintive "I don't want doctor, no doctor!").  Walking up stairs is something he does happily enough, however, so he was ok with that part although my asthma was a bit annoyed with me.

We got to the office and there were only a couple of kids already in the waiting room.  However, when we signed in the receptionist told us something was wrong with the building power.  The lights were on but the elevator wasn't working, as I had already discovered.  What else wasn't working? ECHO and EKG systems, of course.

Power was restored about an hour later -- a truck had hit a pole or something, so they had to fix a transformer.  There had been kids waiting in the offices inside the whole time, so they still needed to have their procedures before we waiting room people could be called.  Thank god for my Ipad and for those obsessive people who make videos of trains.

Another hour or so and we got to go in and have normal doctor stuff plus the ECHO, which is a set of ultrasounds of the heart done from different angles.  Mercifully Charlie thought that was kind of cool, particularly because at one point it sounded like a train. Also helpful in keeping him from freaking out: my many promises of taking him to a toy store afterwards, plus giving him way too many M&M's and Dum Dums. 

I really, really expected to hear that the hole had doubled in size (Charlie has, himself, doubled in size, after all) and that he'd need surgery as soon as he got to be old enough.  I had just been assuming that and preparing to hear that, for months now. 

Instead, the doctor said the hole had gotten so small that it only showed from a couple angles on the ECHO, and wasn't visible from the other angles.  It's so small now that it's not considered abnormal or medically significant. 

"Goodbye; we won't need to see him again." 
marydell: (charlie-sillybandz)
1. Little boy, I am sympathetic to your fear of elevators and your declaring the crowded-n-dank elevators in this particular parking garage "too scaawy." I am so sympathetic to this that I don't mind walking up one flight of stairs with you and then pushing your stroller up an additional three floors of parking ramp, although my butt muscles definitely do mind. However, complaining during our climb that you want to go faster and get to the car sooner is SIMPLY NOT ON.

2. Lady in stairwell, I am sympathetic to your wanting to walk faster than a distracted 3-year-old when going up a crowded stair with lots of people behind us. I think passing us on the left is completely appropriate, which is why I made encouraging motions to all behind me to do precisely that. However, deciding that the lady on the left is also too slow, weaving around her between me and my child, and in the process sideswiping said child? Will result in a polite request from me of "how about you try not to knock my kid down the stairs, okay?" And MUCH ILL WILL, you freaking speed freak. (Fortunately he has the mass of a small planet at this point, so he kept his footing)

Cake

Oct. 18th, 2011 11:30 am
marydell: (charlie-superman)
Charlie got to have cake for the first time at a birthday party on Saturday (Prior to this his egg allergy had been a problem, but it's diminished). He only ate a couple of bites and quickly figured out that the frosting is better than the cake, but even so didn't want most of his piece (I took care of the rest for him, a Mommy's work is never done). He's weird about textures so this was fairly predictable, and overall he didn't seem that impressed by the experience.

In the morning, however, he showed me a little set of stacked round blocks he had put together on a small platform and said "cake." This is a child who has never done anything with blocks other than stack them as high as possible and then gleefully knock them down. I said "are those candles?" and he nodded and blew on them. Then he sang happy birthday to me.

So apparently cake is AWESOME, although maybe not so much for actually eating just yet.
marydell: (charlie-twizzler)
Thanks to spending his days in a room full of fellow chatty 3-year-olds, plus weekly speech therapy, Charlie is getting much better at talking. I sit in his room with him while he goes to sleep at night, and last night he wasn't tired and wanted to get out of bed by any means necessary. I took notes on his wheedles and lies:

I not sleepy.
I need TV.
I need dinner.
Look, binky!
Need more binky.
I want jump.
I crying, Mommy! I crying!
I need take off shirt.
I pooping!
I need McQueen [toy car Lightning McQueen]
I need shake [pediasure].
I need go that way [sleep with head at other end of the bed].
marydell: (charlie-sillybandz)
I'm on my 4th day of prednisone because of a flu-related asthma flareup, complete with constant coughing from hell. So I figured screw it, I'm having a piece of chocolate cake, what are my allergies going to do about it with prednisone crushing my entire immune response? Yay, chocolate cake. Charlie, (who is not sick) apparently noticed, however, because at bedtime he put on his best wheedling voice and said "I need cake!" and when I said no he didn't he said "I got cough! I need cake!"

New Rule

Oct. 3rd, 2011 08:13 pm
marydell: My hand holding a medusa head sculpture (by me) that's missing its snakes (Default)
I generally try not to invent rules for the boy when I'm upset about something he's done, as that tends to lead to overly punitive and specific rules like no more spumoni on Tuesdays. That said, I stand by last night's new rule: if you want to sleep upside down with your feet on the pillow, you need to go do that in your own bed, not mine.

Also when Mommy says "ow, you kicked me in the face," you are not allowed to laugh.
marydell: (charlie-sillybandz)


Resident physician: "eczema flareup, fever for 3 days, crying, stuffy nose, sore throat...I think this is a virus, it doesn't look like a bacterial infection. I'll prescribe a stronger antihistamine for his rash and then you can continue to give him motrin for the fever and let the virus run its course. Let me just talk to my boss, the attending, and he'll be in to look at him soon."

Attending physician: "You say the eczema flared up after you got a new pattern on his diapers--a lot of kids get rashes from the blue dye in diapers. This rash on his legs looks like it could be from that, and you say it's getting better since you changed diaper brands. This rash on his stomach and armpits, though...and this here inside his elbow...I'd like to do a strep test, because this looks like it might be scarlet fever. "

...

Guess who was right?


Of course, that's why the attending is in charge, and the resident is still studying.

Because we were in the ER, whence we had hightailed when he wouldn't stop crying (he is normally angry when sick, not sad), we got a choice of antibiotic treatments: either 10 days of the pink liquid twice a day, or one big honkin shot for the whole thing. As Mike puts it, "Two out of three Dells voted for the shot."  Charlie didn't get a vote, but he's on the mend and much happier now despite being pretty pissed off about the shot at the time.

Elbowing

Aug. 22nd, 2011 10:13 am
marydell: (charlie-twizzler)
If you have siblings you probably have gotten elbowed a lot in your time, and if you don't have siblings you probably still have endured a fair amount of elbowing from random folks, friends, classmates etc. I grew up in a family with 7 kids, plus a live-in Aunt and grandparents at various times, and we had a big round dinner table, so the elbowing, both accidental and deliberate, was constant.

Being elbowed without being allowed to elbow back is a form of injustice, in a large family, and generally retaliation was allowed as long as it didn't result in excess noise or pestering of any adults. As the youngest person in the family, my right of retaliatory elbowing is sacrosanct.

So it's a bit of a problem to have an affectionate--nay, clingy--child whose left arm ends at the elbow. There is no non-elbowy side to this arm. OMG THE ELBOWING IS EPIC. Including from 3 am to 5 am this morning when he got in bed next to me and kept snuggling up and elbowing me in the kidney.

And I'm totally not allowed to retaliate. Grump grump grump.
marydell: (charlie-twizzler)
So now Charlie thinks every speck on the floor is an ant. We have very old, tired, staple-hole-filled hardwood floors that spent 50 years living under a carpet before we came along. There are a lot of specks. I keep explaining to him that if it isn't moving, it probably isn't an ant, but he doesn't believe me and, to be fair, there is a non-zero chance that a speck really is an ant. It is August, after all.

C: Oh no, ant! Ant! Mommy, ant should go outside. [Pause to see if "ant" goes outside] *stomp*
marydell: My hand holding a medusa head sculpture (by me) that's missing its snakes (Default)
1. Silly Bandz!

IMG_0764

He had no idea what they were but he instantly wanted the whole package.

Many more pics behind the cut... )
Thanks for looking!

Sleepy Nap

Jul. 31st, 2011 09:54 pm
marydell: My hand holding a medusa head sculpture (by me) that's missing its snakes (Default)
Morning:

Charlie: (loud screechy noises, just because)
Me: Oh, quiet sweetie, Daddy is sleeping.
Charlie: Daddy take sleepy nap?
Me: that's right, he's having a sleepy nap. Let's leave him alone so he can sleep.
Charlie: Okay Mommy! (studiously avoids the hall by our bedroom, lets Mike sleep).

Afternoon:

Charlie: Where Mommy?
Mike: Mommy's taking a nap, Charlie. Let's be quiet so she can sleep.
Charlie: Mommy sleeping? Mommy take nap?
Mike: That's right.
Charlie: MOMMY! MOMMY! (runs into bedroom, leaps into bed next to me)
Charlie: Mommy take nap? I want blanket! I lie down! What doing, Mommy?
marydell: My hand holding a medusa head sculpture (by me) that's missing its snakes (Default)
Thanks to a half-price sale at the mattress store, my baby is going to have a much nicer mattress-and-boxspring-on-the-floor than Mommy and Daddy do, albeit a smaller one (standard twin size. It's being delivered on Friday, and I've spent a bunch of time today playing mental Tetris with the furniture in his room, figuring out where the thing is going to go.

I have sadface over how fast he is growing up...he's still a toddler in his personality and development, of course, but he looks and feels like a big boy and it is TOO SOON.

2008
100_0383

big, bigger, biggest boy (pix) )

.
marydell: My hand holding a medusa head sculpture (by me) that's missing its snakes (Default)
My kid's medical situation isn't as complicated or risky as SingleDad's daughter's situation, but this is a very useful model to follow in preparing emergency documentation for a child with special needs, and I'm going to get cracking on making something like this for Charlie right away: http://www.disableddaughter.com/?p=371

If your child has special medical needs that your backup people are not fully prepped for, something like this can help a lot to make sure they get what they need if you're sick or unavailable for a bit.
marydell: My hand holding a medusa head sculpture (by me) that's missing its snakes (Default)
Length of toddler/crib mattress: 52"
Length of Charlie: 41"

Of course our crib mattress is a fancy hypoallergenic organic thing, bought during his terrible eczema situation. Now his allergies and breathing etc are all controlled, so maybe I don't have to pay top dollar for a fancy hypoallergenic twin mattress! Woo! However I do have to buy a whole fricking new bed for a just-turned-three year old, grumble. I suppose I should go for the extra long 80" twin since he'll probably be needing the extra leg room by the time he's 5 or 6....

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