300 Flushes - part III

You’ll never believe this… but Tristan had the stomach bug again on Saturday evening. Connor had it Tuesday night and if the good Lord’s willin’ and the creek don’t rise Jorma and I won’t get it. The problem with not getting it is that it makes me live in fear. Each time I burp or have indigestion, I think I’m getting it. Each time I’m tired, cranky or my hair doesn’t fix quite right, I think I’m getting it. And so far the only thing that I’m getting is Emetophobia, which is the fear of vomiting. I mean, if I get it again, it will be the third time that I’ve had it. I’ve already explained to the universe that I REALLY WAS just kidding about that 8 more stomach flus to my goal weight thing. I mean really. If the universe wants to help me out it could just see to it that I suddenly lose interest in chocolate peanut butter ice cream, right?

It’s easy for the kids when they get it. They throw up. They continue their day as if it never happened. There may be an extra cartoon or two involved, but that’s more because Mommy is certain that rest is needed, more than rest being actually needed.

In fact, Connor woke up in the middle of the night Tuesday and threw up on his floor and went right back to sleep. I found out that he had thrown up because he casually mentioned it the next morning after he had been awake for about half an hour. He said, “Mommy. There is throw up in my room.” To which I froze and immediately assessed the situation. Vomit? In his room? Has he touched me? I went to look and sure enough, it looked like he just sat up, spewed and went right back to sleep. While I was cleaning it up, I explained to him that I really wanted him to call Mommy or Daddy if he’s sick in the night. He responded, “That’s ok Mommy. I was just so tired I wanted to go back to sleep. I didn’t get it on me or anything.” At any case I made him strip down and put his pjs in the washing machine where I had loaded the sheets and blankets that also saw their share of this midnight Rendezvous.

You aren’t going to believe this, but I hope if I’m going to get it, I go ahead and get it. This paranoia thing sucks.

Dear Tristan - 2 Years, 5 Months

Dear Tristan,
You are exceptional, child. I'm not just saying that because you put your dishes in the sink without me having to tell you to, or pick up trash that you find on the floor and put it into the trashcan without being told. I'm not saying it because you jump right into bed when we ask, without a fight or a whimper, (most nights) or because you know some of your alphabet, how to hold a pencil or how to lock and unlock doors. All of this is the second child advantage. You are exceptional because your smile lights up a room and because you seem to know just when to say your sorry or when to give a hug. I have to admit after I've swept the kitchen floor and you come up to me and say, "Fank you, Mommy" my heart swells just a little bit. Mostly though, I say that you are exceptional because we are all so in love with you.

Your favorite part of the day is when Daddy comes home. Sometimes you hear a noise that sounds like the door unlocking and you freeze and gasp, "Daddy home!" and look up at me with hope. When I tell you that it's just Pippin knocking his mouse around downstairs you always look disappointed and ask if Daddy will be home soon. You cry for Daddy sometimes during the day, when I put you down for nap or have put you in time out. I've thought about teaching you the phrase, "Where is the good cop?" just so it will amuse me when you pretend I'm tormenting you by making you sit on the kitchen floor in the corner for kicking the cat.
You still scare the bajesus out of the cat and with good reason. You are obsessed with looking at his teeth. You always want to show them to me or to your brother or to anyone else that will watch you lift his lips and look at them. That cat deserves every cat treat he gets.

Finally you are independent enough that we can take you and your brother to museums without you having to be strapped into a stroller. You still try to run off, but listen to reason and the threat of the monkey leash and you fall into step. It's still difficult for us however, if your brother decides that he wants to run about a place, because you decide that's what you are also supposed to be doing and we have two children running in two different directions.

You are so full of wonder and enchantment! There is nothing like seeing the world anew through a childs eyes. There is nothing like seeing through a child's eyes a second time. I finally understand why people have 5 children. Although, my sanity is too precious to me to grant you that many siblings.

You are still quite attached to your blanket, which has been promoted from Ganky to Blankie. You'd take it everywhere if we let you, but we have you convinced that Blankie needs sleep so you are content to tuck it into bed and tell it night night when you leave the room. Now that we've taken the gate down from the bottom of the steps you still sneak upstairs and rescue Blankie from nap. You like to snuggle on the couch with it while you feed your Go, Diego Go! obsession.

Your brother won't admit it, (probably now or ever) but when you aren't around all he wants to do is know when you are going to be home again and if you are doing something that he's not getting to do. You love a laugh, a tickle, a cuddle but only for a second. You have things to do and a cat to chase, after all.

I love you so much,
Mommy

Burial at Sea

For Christmas the boys received a Triops kit. A Triops is a Triassic creature that's related to the shrimp. Think Seamonkey. You put the eggs and the peat moss into distilled water and eventually the eggs hatch and you can watch your Triops grow. And grow they do. We thought that the kids might be into it, but we never guessed that Jorma and I would enjoy the Triops so. The growth rate is impressive, with a visable difference each day. Our Triops lived for about 6 weeks, after which Pippin began to take an interest in "fishing". Because the Triops lived in a bowl with no cover, it was pretty easy for Pippin to dip his paw into the bowl, which we believe brought the life of the Triops to an untimely end.

Instead of "sending the Triops to the hospital through the toliet" like we did with our last fish I decided that Connor was ready for his first experience with death. I told him that the Triops died and that we were going to have a burial at sea. It was about that time that I realized by the look on Connor's face that maybe I should have just flushed it and told Connor we were sending it to the ocean so it could be with it's friends. But it was too late. There was nothing left to do but continue. We put the Triops in the toliet and we all said something nice about the Triops. I said how much we enjoyed watching the Triops grow, Tristan said, "Triops!" and Connor said, "TRIOPS, I LOVE YOU!!!" and burst into tears.

I took pictures of the event, pictures I would have been happy to share with the internet had my toliet been in any condition for public viewing, (I'm just keepin it real). It wasn't. So you'll just have to take my word for it and look at the two pictures that I can post.

Here's how Connor felt about the Triops funeral.

Here's how Tristan felt about the Triops funeral.

May our Triops rest in peace.

Sick and Tired

The auction planning is well underway and we are humming right along. If you haven’t heard from me yet to beg for a contribution it’s because I’m slowing dying from the common cold. Tristan brought it home from preschool and of course Mommy got it. You know you can’t get rid of a cold until you give it to someone else, so now that Jorma has it, I’m sure to be feeling better soon.

I suffered with congestion and cough for almost two weeks until I went to the Dr. and was given Zpack to stop the sinus infection I had acquired. The antibiotic doesn’t do anything for the upper respiratory infection that I’m also carrying because that’s viral in nature and just has to be waited out. Because nothing is simple I also was blessed with oral thrush from the antibiotic requiring a call to the Dr and a Rx. I don’t know if you’ve ever had oral thrush but if you’d like to see what it’s like, try drinking battery acid. My throat, mouth and esophagus feel like they are on fire which means, eating just does not work for me. While the thrush is probably more effective than stomach reduction surgery it’s not a good exercise program which is probably what I really need and would be undertaking if I was not needlessly suffering from this virus.

I’ve gotten more sleep over the past two weeks than I’ve probably gotten in the last two years which has been beneficial to everyone in keeping me on an even keel. During this time, I’m keeping myself from boredom while in quarantine by painting a mural in our foyer hallway and chasing the children. I’m tired and I’m tired of being sick and tired. I guess a Jagermeister binge may be in order, sure to be a good time on the empty stomach I’ve been carrying around.