OK OK. So I fell off the NaBloPo wagon. Sorry about that folks. Here is the story.
Thanksgiving was at my house this year. This was my own doing. I wanted it this way. And it was fine. My grandfather came from his nursing home with my parents and it was just them and us and my sister. A small gathering. Intimate. My mother made some green bean caserole, some sort of cauliflower caserole and two pies. My sister made corn bread and bought the wine. I did the rest. It was quite a spread and very traditional.
The boys were not interested in anything remotely Thanksgiving-y. All they wanted to eat were cinnamon graham crackers. Much of their dinner was left on the floor. Half way through the meal they began to fall asleep so we knew it was time for them to visit Swingtown and napping ensued.
This was actually excellent timing because I was able to enjoy my feasting using both hands and taking time to taste the foods. Perfect.
Later, we realised that Waylon was wheezing and that his breathing was very labored. I pulled out the nebulizer from when he had pnemonia at 6 months old. This helped him for about an hour and a half, then we needed to do it again. Poor little guy was miserable.
Company departs and we try to put the boys to bed. Waylon would have none of it and his breathing seemed to worsen. So I become, once again, that woman who calls the pediatrician on every single holiday with some sort of question or concern. (remember the one last year when I called to say I had dropped a box of chocolates on the baby's head while we were in Target?!)
Doctor says to keep giving him the medicine every two hours through the night and if he gets worse to go to the hospital. Then to bring him to the office first thing in the morning.
Nobody got any sleep that night. Baby spent all night in mommy and daddy's bed, not sleeping. Other baby was in his own room and woke screaming to find his brother missing.
Go to doctor. Doctor says, "no more monkey's jumping on the bed" - no he says "sounds like he has some pnemonia again and definitely is wheezing". More meds. Antibiotics, steroids, asthma stuff. Great.
Second baby has chronic runny nose that ends in his mouth every time. Gross, but at least he is able to breathe so he gets very little attention over the next several days.
So, the next night, nobody sleeps. Try to get Waylon to sleep in his own crib. It doesn't work. Spend the night alternatingly putting him back to his crib, carrying him into my room.
Next day, back to doctor. Doctor says "Ooo eee, ooo ah ah ting tang walla walla, bing bang..." - no he says "sounds like he is doing better. Keep him on the meds and bring him back on Monday."
That night, nobody sleeps....blah blah blah.
Monday, we all go to the doctor for a scheduled 15 month check-up. Sick baby gets no shots but his poor, neglected brother gets two for good measure. Plan of action is to keep sick baby on nebulizer through mid-January to prevent him from getting more phnemonia. Problem is, sick baby HATES nebulizer more than he hates eggs (just like his daddy).
Other piece of adivice from pediatrician at 15 month check-up - create a room in your house where they can play. Take out all of the furniture and put a light in the ceiling. Put pre-school-type padding on the floor and pad the lower half of the walls if you need to. Put lots of pillows on the floor. Oh yeah, and the room should have no windows. Why you may ask? Well, this is because one boy likes to bang his head on things like the floor or the wall and then his brother follows along and they both think it is hysterical. They both also enjoy breaking every gate we have in place to confine their world, and crawling up and down the stairs ar breakneck speeds is a favorite passtime. Also, slamming one another's fingers (and on occassion, one's own) in the piano is great fun! And lastly, the best time these days is had by shaking the gate that seperates them from the flat screen TV and the cabinet it is on so that both the TV and the cabinet shake and teeter precariously. And the floor lamp has already been knocked down, broken and removed from the room.
Did I happen to mention that this is my livingroom?
Does this sound like a fun place to play or solitary confinement?
And, by the way, we live in a 100 year old house. Every room has windows, mostly they are only 2 1/2 feet off the ground (perfect for boys to bang on), and every room has weird angles and corners. There are no simple, square, one point of entry rooms in our home. So, unless we move this isn't going to happen.
Today mommy is back at work and babies are having a daddy/baby-sitter day today. Mommy is a wee bit tired after such a fun filled few days at home with the family, but wouldn't trade it for anything.
Now, if anyone knows of a house with a room like that for sale, let me know.