Sunday, March 29, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
So... the fish. Less than two weeks ago we set up a tank we found in the alley and got ourselves three goldfish: Petey the Pirate, Orangehead and Flatty. Calder loooves the tank. He always goes up to the table it's on and points and says "Fssh! Fssh!" Well, despite all the fun and enjoyment, it's a week and a half later and two of them are dead from Ich and all I have left is the vaguely retarded Petey to comfort me. Hopefully the treatments will save him because I am starting to feel really guilty about being a fish murderess. If Petey manages to somehow survive I am not sure I would be comfortable acquiring any more friends for him. They'll start putting my photo up in pet stores with a note saying, "Don't sell this woman any fish." Fortunately I have a somewhat better track record at keeping human children alive.
Calder is actually coming along swimmingly. He babbles away to himself constantly and it's beginning to sound more and more like the structure of the English language. It's still mostly nonsense of course but it has the patterns and cadences of the way we normally speak. Calder is really getting into his books too. He'll probably be able to read before he can speak properly. At night we spend about a half hour to an hour systematically going through his books. Usually it's about ten out of a group of thirty that he particularly enjoys which are then read several times each. Current favs include Eric Carle's Head to Toe, Very Hungry Caterpillar and The Very Busy Spider. He also really likes alphabet books, the How Do Dinosaurs series and anything with pop-up, moving or touchy-feely components.
Calder is really starting to look more like a little boy rather than having that vague, round cuteness of a baby. Despite this, I still cannot figure out which if us he really takes after. Some people say me, some say Bruce. I think the kid is actually a pretty good blend of the two. What I really wonder about are the inherited traits that are much less apparent to the naked eye. Like, what will his teeth be like? Will he have normal, straight healthy teeth with relatively few cavities like Bruce? Or will Calder be the tooth specialist's dream, like me, with inexplicable cavities and a front gap that would make Lauren Hutten blush? I swear on this blog in front of you all: I will never make my child wear headgear, cross my heart and hope my fish don't die. Or how about Calder's eyes? Both Bruce and I wear glasses so it's almost a foregone conclusion. However, is it gonna be farsightedness or nearsightedness? Bruce can't see farther than two feet from his face and I have needed to put on glasses to read a menu in a dim restaurant since I was 12. I have trouble seeing things within two feet of my face which often times leads to hi-larious flinching for no reason, like I am the most startleable person in the world. You see, Dad, I wasn't afraid of the softball. I just couldn't see the damn thing to field it. What if Calder gets both of these traits? Will he be the only toddler on the playground sporting bifocals?
And what about even less tangible things like personality? And intelligence? And talents? And interests? There are just so damn many things to wonder about that I want to put him in fast-forward to make see how he turns out, to make sure he turns out. Yet at the same time I want to stop him right here while he still wants to cuddle in my lap, while he still FITS in my lap, while I can't yet tell if I have been a success or a failure as a parent Because messing up my child? Whether genetically or environmentally, is a huge fear of mine. Every little thing make me worry that he will be a bunny boiling freak or an anti-social loner. Calder's super charming personality? OMG, he's a sociopath who will someday lead a cult to murder! Calder's refusal to wear pants? Holy hell, the child is going to be some crazy-flashing-sex-perv who watches ladies from a tree!!! On the other hand, maybe his love of knocking other kids over is indicative of his future success as a professional hockey player or his tendency to bite everything is just the first steps on his way to being a world-class chef. Who the hell knows. It makes me want to drink just thinking about it all.
Regardless, I think it'll be hard to watch him grow up and move away from me with such vast possibilities for his future but I really wouldn't mind a little independence if it meant I didn't have to handle his bio-hazard diapers anymore.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
The rash is gone, huzzah! The last time we saw any spots was Monday morning. Hopefully we can stop feeding Calder Benedryl now. Unlike some other people, namely me, Benedryl does not make Calder tired. Not one tiny smacking iota of sleepiness. Calder takes a shot and then proceeds to motor in circles around the living room for hours. This cannot stand.
I can barely stand lately myself since Calder takes after his mother and is a hossy mcfatty heifer-pants. My back is killing me from hauling him around all the time. Thank god Bruce does most of the putting in and removing from the car seat. I would not be able to survive all that off balance shoving an hunching. I am not imagining this either. Bruce put Calder on the scale during his last doctor visit and estimated that he now weighs 26.5 lbs. In contrast, his cousin Q weighed 27.3 lbs. at 18 months. I have no idea how tall he is but I do know that his head is at least up to and quite possibly above the dining room table. I know this because nothing on the table is safe any more. Nothing is safe anywhere anymore. Our apartment looks like we are afraid of an imminent flood with everything important being stored at least 5 feet from the ground. If it doesn't stop raining here soon, we may have an actual flood to contend with soon. I hope Calder is at least tall enough to keep his head above the water.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Calder had his first ambulance ride yesterday. I am kind of jealous; I’ve never ridden in an ambulance before. That’ll teach me to snark on my child’s medical condition.
What? You want to know why Calder had to betaken by ambulance to the ER in the middle of the day by the daycare center’s lovely Direct, Joanna? Oh fine. Yesterday Mr. Rashy-Pants was still rashy but generally feeling ok so with the permission of the daycare we sent him to school. He was fine until after his nap from which he woke with a GIANT TOMATO HEAD. The rash had spread all over his head which was also now puffy and swollen. Calder was wheezing a bit so they all freaked and thought his airways were closing up so they called 911. Then they called Bruce. Then Bruce called me. Then I lost my shit and basically ran out of work.
As it turns out Calder’s airways were fine and he was pretty much ok except for the fact that he was a lovely shade of scarlet from head to toe. Well, except for a small blaze of white down his forehead and nose. Like a horse. Apparently, he had a ball in the ambulance with the EMTs and when we got to the ER he had the entire floor stopping by to say hi and tickle him. He even went on rounds and visited the half dozen elderly people who were in the ER with actual life threatening old people diseases. After a few doses of Benedryl and Prednisolone and a few hours of observation we were all released with a suggestion to follow up with Dr. Merens and perhaps consider allergy testing. Um, yeah. Allergy testing a person whose immune system is not fully developed totally does not sound like a huge waste of time. Ahem.
Calder is still pink today albeit blotchy instead of the solid tomato-baby state of yesterday. He’ll be going to the doctor later this morning and getting additional Prednisolone for the next few days in addition to a baby Epi Pen in case something really tremendous happens. Let’s hope not.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
.....That it's an allergic reaction to something although she did not single out taco meat seasoning specifically. Let's all throw our arms up in surprise, shall we? Although she didn't offer any advice to build on what we are already doing, Dr. Merens did have some nice stuff to say regarding Bruce's photographs, "Those are amazing pictures. Most medical publications don't do as good a job! " So there's that anyway. Maybe Bruce could use that recommendation to get himself a real job.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Calder peed in his potty. Yes, he has a potty. Yes, he is still 14 months old. No, I didn't buy it. That would be Mr. Future Pushy Parent Extraordinaire Bruce. Bruce thinks Calder is ready to be toilet trained. No matter that Calder is just as happy to pee on the toilet than he is to go in it. In fact, I think Calder has whizzed on the floor of our apartment more times than Elby has. ANYWAY. The first, oh, let's say dozen or so time Calder was stripped down and placed on his throne he reacted the same way he does to almost everything new. He dropped to the floor and rolled around screaming his head off. Naturally Bruce kept doing that to him and even sometimes offered a demonstration and of course my attendance was required on the off chance Calder decided to cooperate. Let me just say there is nothing like being compelled to the bathroom to watch your husband have a pee. Thankfully Calder finally caught on two days ago and tinkled in his potty sans demonstration. We all clapped and had a small impromptu bathroom party and then we took Calder to the mall and bought him some books. I so wish I was kidding.
Related: Can someone tell me how I managed to raise a child for 14 months without owning Pat the Bunny?
I have decided that my post-baby body is, in fact, embarrassing and that I should stop eating like a hoss and get off my ass every once in a while. This may seem like, the duhiest report to have ever come out of duhville but as it is, it is very difficult to eat like a healthy, responsible adult when 30% of your meals involve dinosaur shaped nuggets and Chef Boyardee. Plus, as Calder gets older and stays up later it becomes really difficult to find time to exercise. If I wait until he goes to bed, I have maybe a half hour to get warmed up, exercised and wound down enough to fall asleep. I have been trying to get mini-workouts done while Calder is awake but they are not the most efficient. I will do squats and lunges while Calder plays Up/Down and I will also get up and move along with Calder when he is in the mood to dance. I don't think it's really doing much though. Because while lurching around my living room like a drunken water buffalo to the dulcet tones of DJ Lance Rock and the Gabba gang may burn calories, it is difficult to maintain for the necessary periods of time since I essentially look like a giant asshole. I don't want to imprint my terrible dance skills on Calder as such a young age. I want the poor kid to stand a chance.
Calder got pink eye. Yeeesh. But it's bacterial pink eye? And he didn't need to leave day care? But he did have to go to the doctor? And now he has eye drops? And they are somehow less offensive to Calder than trying to swipe off the boogers that are permanently gushing from his nose? Yeah. I dunno. Other than booking the doctor appointment I have had nothing to do with this whole situation. Calder looks fine to me. Maybe a little stoned what with the red eyes and all but fine.
Lastly, Calder has another giant full-body rash. No, I don't know why. Honestly? Don't care. I am sure that it is either from the antibiotic eye drops that he has been taking for the pink eye or related to something he ate. Possibly taco meat mix. If my own medical history is to be believed it could be from nothing at all. Being one of the lizard people is just more proof that Calder is so my child. I am Queen of the Random Non-Contagious Skin Disorderdom and Calder is my Scaly Bodied Dark Prince. Bruce freaked and texted me at work this morning to find out what he should do as though he has not also been parenting this damn delicate-skinned child. I wish I had been home so I could have laughed in his face. These rashes have become so flippin' common that calling the doctor's office never crossed my mind, just the holy trinity of irritated skincare. Benedryl, hydrocortisone and an oatmeal bath. Boom, rosacea'd.