Wednesday, June 30, 2010

You might have a climber...

I wish I could remember who to give credit to on this one, but instead I'll just have to say this was inspired by a blog I saw awhile ago and hope to add the reference later.

Some time ago one of my fellow bloggers posted a quote (yes, I'm paraphrasing!) about hyperactive children. It went something like - all children climb on things. Your child might be hyperactive if he climbs on top of the refrigerator. She then posted a picture of her son in a spiderman costume climbing on the car windshield.

I laughed and thought of the story my husband had told about how his parents had taken away the cape from his superman costume so he'd stop trying to fly, but then I forgot.

I mentioned it to him awhile later and he looked at me and said - oh, I used to climb on top of the refrigerator.

I stopped what I was doing to stare. The things is - I was a climber as a kid. But this was always out of necessity. I had a very late growth spurt, so climbing was part of overcoming and adapting to the world. I climbed on the counter to get a glass for a drink. I climbed on the bathroom vanity to get a band aid. And, ok, yes, I did climb too high in our tree - but trees are meant to be climbed!

But here's the thing - he'd actually "done" the hyperbolic example!

I meant to blog about that then, but forgot.

Until this weekend... when my 16 month old daughter, who had shown *some* interest in climbing - up on the couch and chairs, going up the stairs, that sort of thing - climbed up into her high chair on her own.

I had my back turned and couldn't figure out how she'd managed to get up there. I had to wait to see her do it again. She put her knee up to the foot rest (about her chest level) with her hands on the seat. Once she got herself up that far, she moved her hands to the arm rests to get further up on the foot rest and then moved her hands to the back of the chair to pull herself into the seat.

My husband looked at me and said - on the one hand, I'm really impressed. On the other, oh crap.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Oops! My Guest Post

Forgot to mention - I'm a guest blogger over at Our Mommyhood this week. Please stop by and check it out when you have a chance -

The difference between men and women

Me: I know it'll be expensive, but I want to get some decent eye cream. I'm starting to get dark circles and I'm worried that I'll end up with those deep bags that really age your face.

Hubby: Hmm, do I have circles and bags too? (looking in the mirror) I kind of do. Maybe I should do something about that too (except he would never consider a moisturizer. It's too close to make-up, I think!)

Me: You know, what would probably make a real difference for you would be if you drank more water/stayed hydrated and used sunscreen.

Hubby: Yeah, but if I do that, then I won't look like a crusty old man!

Hmm...sort of the look I was trying to avoid for myself...

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

That 4:00 o'clock feeling

For me, that 4:00 o'clock feeling is some combination of the following:

1. Check the to do list to make sure there's not something random and major that really needs to be done today before I go home.
2. Speed up on whatever I'm working on so it will be done sometime in the vicinity of 5 (5:30 is in the vicinity of 5. 6 is probably not an easy walk - you might want to drive. 8 pm? That's a plane ride, my friend.)
3. If I feel like I've done NOTHING all day (it happens), check and make sure that there wasn't a big SOMETHING I was meant to be doing.
4. Also check that internal to do list of the personal things I meant to get done that I'll be too tired to do in the evening / will never get done on the weekend (credit card payment sent yet?)
5. And if I'm really really feeling organized / optimistic, think about what we might do for dinner - possibly look up a recipe or ask the hubby about it (so I'm not running to the store and getting home to start cooking at 7. See yesterday.)

My boss's 4 o'clock feeling seems to go more like this:
Hmm - got this email from [me] this morning about a project. I should look at that. Then gets distracted. Somewhere around 4:45, he gets to looking at it and right around 4:59 calls me for the changes he'd like today.

OK, I'm exaggerating. I'm not sure there's a 45 minute process. I think it might be around 4:55 that he realizes I'm going to leave soon and needs to call me before. About something I sent him 6 hours ago. This is most popular on Wednesdays, as I'm part time and don't work Thurs or Fri (which explains why I leave somewhere in the vicinity of 5).

In the case of today, it's a meeting scheduled for 4 to discuss the status of something my coworker sent at 8:15. Maybe I better call the hubby to make sure he's shopping for dinner now (last night when I got home and asked about dinner he suggested - let's just eat tomorrow.).

Monday, June 21, 2010

Monday Minute - 6/21/10

Monday Minute

1 - Have you ever had any feelings towards one of your teachers back in the day?

Hmm… Nothing much really. I mean, most of my teacher’s were women, so there wasn’t a lot of opportunity (although I really did love my earliest teachers. I thought my kindergarten teacher was SO pretty with her long blonde hair parted in the middle and her blue eyeshadow. Did I mention it was 1980?). I sort of had a very mild crush on my HS math teacher. He was a really great teacher and his class was a lot of fun. I think my love was more of math / the class than the teacher though. “Luckily” I had the antichrist the next year and got over the crush on higher level math as well….

2 - What's the most embarrassing thing that happened while at work?

I don’t know if I have a really great one here. I mean, somewhere I told the story of my boss knocking on my office door while I was pumping / expressing milk, but I wasn’t actually all that embarrassed (he, on the other hand, has not knocked on my closed door since. I consider it a win, actually).

I’ve done tons of stupid things, but they’re not all that funny to share.

3 - When was the last time you crapped yourself sharted?

Um, I can’t think of a time I’ve done this as an adult. But I will tell you, my husband as a paramedic has definitely gotten the advice from old men – “never trust a fart.” This wisdom is right up there with the old men who say – “never waste an erection.” Words to live by, my friends.

4 - What is one thing you have always kept a secret and why have you kept this a secret for so long?

Always? Always is a long time… I keep quite a bit secret on my blog – really all personal identifiers. This is mostly so I can be more honest in my writing. If all my friends and family were reading, I’d filter the stories to suit. I do still try to abide by some rules on what I blog about (sort of pretending they are reading and not talking about people behind their backs, that sort of thing).

5 - What's your best advice for us habitual coffee drinkers as to not have to poop right after drinking it?

Um… decaf? Actually, I don’t think that works either. Tea? Drink it with iron tablets, as I think those are supposed to cause constipation….

Father’s Day - In Memory of my Dad

In honor of Father’s Day this past weekend, I thought I’d write a post about my Dad. After all, he was the English teacher who inspired me to want to write as a kid (and maybe even as an adult too!).

It’s a little hard to think where to begin. My Dad inspired a lot of my life – even in his death. I hate to define him by death but truly – he even did that really “well.” He was diagnosed with cancer in late May of 2002. He’d had a malignant sarcoma (soft tissue cancer) in his back a few years before, but the doctor had removed it and said he was good to go – no need for chemo or radiation even. Turns out, he probably should have gotten a second opinion. The cancer spread to his lungs with a large tumor nestling itself on the aorta – so that in x-rays it actually just looked like a shadow of the heart. He’d been sick for several months, but x-rays then had revealed nothing. It was only found during an exploratory surgery.

I guess when my Mom told me that they’d found it – but didn’t remove it – I should have understood more about what that meant. Some place inside, I think I did, but not a place I was willing to share with my conscious mind. So I kept trucking along – visiting and talking to them more, but that was it. Scared as hell, but pushing that down. It was in September that the oncologist confirmed this was terminal. He’d do chemo (in addition to the radiation he’d already had) as long as it was palliative, but eventually they’d stop that and we’d lose him.

I talked to my Dad one time about what the possible “options” were – he said, there were two chances in all this. The first was a miracle (when hope number one is a miracle, that’s not all that reassuring) and the second was that the chemo could keep him around long enough for a cure to be found. So, being a religious man, my Dad chose a saint to focus his prayers for intercession on (Brother Andre of Montreal). He often said – Brother Andre needs one more miracle to be canonized and I need just this one miracle – it’s a win/win! And then he said – but if I get this miracle, I can’t just take this extra time I’m given in life and use it for me. I think I’ll plan to go someplace I’m needed and volunteer for several weeks or a month each year. If God’s given me this extra time, I can’t be selfish in it and need to share that. I remember I told a friend that and she said – you know, that’s really a lesson for all of us (using the time God has given us for others). I answered abruptly (only say 85% joking…), “Nope! No lessons without the miracle!”

The months of his illness went on – there were a few small moments of hope, but there were a lot more moments of abject fear (at least for me). I’d taken him out one time in October or so to go shopping for a birthday gift for my Mom. He’d taken an anti-nausea medication and it hit him during lunch, with horrible side effects. He was starting to hallucinate a little (as a side note, this was actually not an uncommon side effect for my Dad with medications. He’d had horrible hallucinations on morphine after his appendicitis. They’d finally gone away and he was watching the news when the Falkland Islands War was being covered. He saw that Argentina had declared war on the UK and called my Mom very upset – his hallucinations were clearly back! Nope, turns out truth is stranger than fiction) and was very unsteady on his feet. I was scared. I wanted to drive him to a hospital, but I suddenly realized that hospitals couldn’t do anything for him and that scared me in a whole different way.

But in all this – while I felt scared and confused and wondered about how to maintain faith. He didn’t. It was unreal – but only once did he ever mention anything like fear to me. He said, sort of academically, that this was odd for him. He’d never really known anyone who was dying, so it all felt like a strange uncharted territory. I tried to probe a little, but that was it. I think I was the only person who really ever cried much in front of him. I tried not to, as I think it upset him – but then again… Even though I knew he didn’t want us to be sad, well maybe it wasn’t so bad to see one person get a bit overwrought every once in awhile – you’d know you were really missed!

When asked how he felt about it all. He said he was pretty much ready. He said – look, I’m asking for this miracle, but I’m not at all mad if I don’t get it. I’ve had a wonderful life – how can I be mad at God for giving me so much? Sure I’d like more, but getting mad about not getting it would just be greedy.

That was a hard spirit for me to maintain… But when I’d start to get angry, I’d find that train of thought coming towards me. A friend of mine said at the time – the only way this could hurt less is if you loved him less.

I thought about that one a lot. During this time, a lot of people said a lot of well meaning, but in the end, kind of dumb things. This was the most noteworthy exception and it’s what I always say to people now. Because, the more I pondered it, the more I thought – you know, I wouldn’t give up one good memory to have it hurt less that I can’t repeat those. I suddenly felt a little less powerless in a situation that beat at my type A, control freak personality!

He eventually lost the battle against cancer in March 2003. As it happened, he’d actually seemed to have been on a decent plateau at the time – where we would have thought that we’d have a few more months at least. Despite months of a terminal illness, it felt sudden. Sudden enough that it was the first weekend in months that I wasn’t coming home to visit. I’d been exhausted with the strain of the constant drive and, selfish as it may sound, I’d wanted a weekend off to be young and go to a friend’s birthday party. My Mom called Friday night to tell me to come home, but despite breaking every traffic law known to man, I didn’t quite make it in time. (My brother and my cousin used to joke about their “beat the clock” trips back from DC – every one a challenge to how quick you could make it. That trip – at about 2.5 hours from Northern VA to Central NJ - was probably the new standard.)

And, what can I say? It really really sucked for awhile. But after a little over a year of first avoiding dealing with anything and then falling into my negative emotions, I finally came up for air. And it turned out that he even had the power to inspire me in death. I looked at my life and said – I’m fairly young and healthy and it’s time to get out there and live my life. I finally fully freed myself from a bad relationship (well, emotionally. The relationship was over quite awhile before) and just went out to have some fun. I took belly dancing lessons (even though my stress – all this was coupled with a very stressful time at work and finishing grad school – had put me at a point where I was very underweight and missing the required belly). I played adult kickball. I did 8 minute dating. And I decided to just get out there and stop worrying so much about the future and just have fun. And when I did, my future walked in – I met my husband about 6 weeks later.

And to think, my Dad, as he tried to insure that everything was taken care of and we were on the right path, had been so worried I might not ever settle down and meet someone! We were married about two years later and though I didn’t have my father daughter dance – a thought that had hovered in my brain during his illness – we did invite everyone to dance to “My Daughter’s Eyes” in his memory because he “was there. In [his] daughter’s eyes.”

Ooh… got really schmaltzy there at the end! Sorry for the long babbled post this week. What crazy things these Hallmark holidays do to us!

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Black and blue

As a small child I can remember wondering how I'd ever be able to wear skirts / stockings as an adult because everyone would see my black and blues / bruises. I simply didn't know how women did it! I wasn't (particularly) clumsy, but I was a kid - I was active! I climbed trees (did I ever? I'd climb so high, my Dad would have to talk me down. Hmm... active, but maybe not the smartest kid...), I played sports (badly) and I just played. It was a good day if I only had a scrape or bruise or two.

Hmm... now that I think of it, I did fall down some as well. There was one particular spot. It seemed that nearly every week walking to church one spring I fell on the SAME spot of sidewalk where a tree was pushing up the path. It was so frequent that as I'd run ahead my parents would remind me - remember the uneven spot is coming up. Don't fall! I'd yell back - I know! Afterall, I walked to school this way every day (and for some reason, never fell then - just every Sunday morning) and I'd fallen there before. And yet, a few minutes later, I'd be turning around to run back to my parents with torn tights and bloody knees. As a parent now, I imagine their sighs as I'd done it yet AGAIN. (By the way, sadly, no, this was not a phase I grew out of. It wasn't even solved by my parents choosing to drive the block and half to church as we often did anyway. It was solved by the sidewalk getting fixed. My Grandpa was a councilman and he moved that particular spot up on the priority list - cause it was clearly a safety hazzard!)

Anyway, eventually I *did* in fact grow up (well, mostly) and as I got to the age of skirts and stockings, it seemed that I magically didn't seem to have so many scrapes and bruises. I wasn't playing sports anymore (turns out people who fall down all the time on the same spot of sidewalk aren't necessarily athletic). I probably wasn't climbing so many trees. And the sidewalk had long since been fixed. So it turned out I could wear a skirt without violent bruises shouting out to the world.

Fast forward to today. I look down at my daughter's learning to walk legs and I've noticed that she seems to have a similar pattern of bruises to what I remember - faded black and blues and little scrapes adorning her chubby little legs. But you know, you might not even notice. The reason? I am covered with bruises again! I don't know what it is! There are at least 5 on my legs today - 2 or 3 reasonably faded ones on my left knee and another (also, mercifully faded) on my right and then a bunch of random (not really faded) ones higher up my legs! It's gotten to the point where, as the weather gets nicer and I'm wearing shorts, my husband seems to comment daily - dude, where did you get that one?! Man, that thing is huge! People are going to think I hit you!

Apparently he was at the park yesterday and happened to notice a few other mothers my age there with small children and said - Ok, it turns out they all have these huge bruises on their legs too. That made me feel a little better as my husband does not seem to be beat up the way I am. I thought maybe she just didn't like me... ;)

What about you? Do your kids practice their baby jujitsu on you? Do you bear "the marks" of motherhood (and here I thought it was just stretch marks and cellulite)?

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Round up

The other day my husband told me how he took our daughter out on a walk and, as she seemed to have energy to burn, he didn't put her in the stroller, but let her walk a bit. I was a bit unnerved - she's 16 months old and thinks the busy street is a good place to walk, but he explained that he was holding on to the back of her overalls so she couldn't go anywhere or really even fall.

I pictured him, hunched over, parading after her and thought about how uncomfortable that particular pose is for me (at 10 inches shorter) and said:

You know, I used to think leashes for kids were awful, but now... I can kind of see the benefit.

My husband said: Yeah, I know. But the choke chain is probably going too far.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Monday Minute

Good morning (well, it was morning when I started trying to write this...) and Happy Monday all! Today's Monday Minute (normally hosted by Ian) is hosted by Kmama.

And here we go!

1 - What's the specs of the first computer you owned?

It was a TI. I can't remember all the specifics, but this dinosaur was huge (think brontosaurus) and didn't do a whole heck of a lot. I remember taking Saturday morning classes (cause I was *that cool* even then!) to learn to program in basic:
Line 10 Start
Line 20 Print "I am really cool" (or something like that - it wasn't print. I can't remember...)
Line 30 Go to line 20
Line 40 end

and then it would loop, printing how cool I was all over the screen while I tried to recall how to get it to stop...

2 - Are you on Twitter/Facebook/etc, if so link it/them up

Nope. Am I the one and only lame-o left on the planet who just isn't quite getting twitter...? (Note - Saturday morning classes as a kid - we've established I'm lame, so I guess this is redundant...)
3 - Who's more to blame for the oil mess in the gulf - BP or the Gov't and why?

Would saying - they're all idiots be too much of a cop out? I think the whole thing is such an ugly mess. It makes me too sick to read about it in enough detail to come up with a really well informed opinion, but my primary blame would go to BP.

One of my cousins sent out the below picture with the note - "hey BP, follow your own rules." I'll leave it at that.

4 - What's your favorite Dr. Suess book?

Oh man, I think I love them all! Let's see - Oh The Places You'll Go will always have a spot in my heart. But then we also just read Green Eggs and Ham to my daughter for the first time last weekend (and reminisced about making green eggs in 2nd grade), so I can't leave that off. Oh and as we cut down all the trees in the jungle of our backyard, the Lorax is referenced often (though I guess not always so postively...).

Hmm, I think I can only be certain in noting my LEAST favorite Dr. Suess books - those my daughter wants read 34 times in a row. I could recite The Foot Book verbatim to you now, but won't torture you

And finally...

5 - What did you want to be when you grew up?

This changed ALL THE TIME! Let's see - there was a period where I wanted to be a doctor, but I decided I couldn't give needles (if only I knew that they alwasy sloughed that off to nurses!), an engineer (kind of wishing I'd followed that one more), an architect (another that I sometimes wonder why I didn't follow up) and last, so that we know that dreams really do come true - I think I always kind of figured I'd be some random not easily described business person sort of role. Something to do with numbers. And here I am, with Chandler Bing's job to prove you CAN live the dream!

My husband wanted to be a firefighter as a kid. After a brief dalliance with finance and IT consulting, he decided screw it and went after being a firefighter. It just goes to show that I should have been a more creative (or traditional!) kid! As an aside, now that he is "living the dream," he wishes he'd gone to medical school.

We are a hard bunch to please!

Now your turn! Head over to Kmama's and link up!

Friday, June 11, 2010

You can't argue with stupid.

Well, you can, but you won't win.

I know that's more of a thought for Monday, but Happy Friday anyway!

Thursday, June 10, 2010

And now for some answers

In response to my request to know what you want to know/hear about, Ian immediately jumped up with the following questions:

What do you want to get out of blogging?

When I started… hmm… well, I think at the beginning maybe I did have some dreams of “setting the world on fire” and really going somewhere with all this. Could it be my new career? Ha – probably not! But… I think that was just what got me thinking about it in the first place. Even not knowing how many bloggers are out there, I knew that was pretty unlikely. And, honestly, I’m not sure that would have motivated me to move forward. It definitely would not have motivated to keep it up!

The REAL reason was… I started blogging right around the time I went back to work. I’d been writing different things – drafts and lists and thoughts and all that – but my mind had been all over. This was true all through pregnancy, but the real stress came when the baby arrived! No matter what anyone had said, no one prepared me for the crazy hormones! And then, the decision to go back to work, to leave my job, wait no – to stay at my job part time – those were impossible / crazy / like nothing else. Around the time I started to blog, I was finally thinking I was finding some balance. And I wanted to share some of process in case it could help anyone else.

What are your goals?

Well, the big one was to honestly share some of the fears / challenges / disasters – and greatness that was going on so that other people feeling scared, overwhelmed or like a disaster themselves could see they weren’t alone in it – and particularly as it was getting better to share the light at the end of the tunnel. I don’t think I realized how many more fears and challenges (and disasters!) were yet to come – or how much greatness.

Now my goals are more, hmm, concrete – to try to write reasonably regularly just to get in the habit of writing again. I used to love to write, but then time and life and God knows what got in the way and I stopped. I’ve never been good about journaling, but I seem to do this a little more (well, at least a little).

Have you achieved any of them?

I don’t know. My original goals were sort of outward facing and I have no idea if anyone has found my journey or any of my struggles helpful. But, I think I’ve approached it honestly, so I can say I’ve achieved that one!

My goal of reasonable updates seem to be getting a little tattered these days.... Oops… Ok, I’m working on it.

Do you plan on having 6 more kids?

Not on your life! Or mine! Or my sanity! We’re starting to think about another one, but we’re more of the 2 or 3 at the max type. First, I’m 34, so 6 more kids (unless I become my own version of an octo-mom – but only 6, so that’s totally achievable, right?) isn’t all that realistic. But it was never a goal of mine anyway. I love my daughter and my husband and I love focusing our attention on her now. If we have a second, that’s fine, but we really don’t want a huge family. We want to love whatever (whoever) we get and not go crazy! ;)

I was at a family party this weekend and my aunt pointed out a niece on the other side of the family who has a 9 month older daughter and is expecting a sibling in November. She said – “no pressure, but” and introduced me. I looked at the Mom and said, “well, you’re a little crazy!” I think she took it the right way (but then later learned that her English isn’t so good, so she just might not have gotten it at all – which probably also works well).

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

So... what about you?

I've been feeling like my blog is getting a little dry and... well, uninspired, recently. I started out writing this for me - and I know I'll never set the world on fire with it or achieve fame and fortune. But hey, I would like to know what you want to hear / what you're interested in. A year into the life of the monkey, I think I'm getting a little stale...

Although, to be honest, I really always thought all the great parenting stories came once they started talking - inappropriately... in front of your grandmother/minister/boss/etc. As she's only got a few words still, most of my stories tend to focus more on the fact that I got pooped on TWICE this week - and peed on once...

Anyway, this post is a shout out to you. Is there anything you want to see? Questions you want answered? Comments that I really should have highlighted better?

Hope to hear from you!

Monday, June 7, 2010

My life is too exciting!

My husband's phone is not exactly working - he can text, but no one can hear him on it.

His text - headed to Safeway on the way home - where is your prescription to drop off?

My text - in my purse. I can stop at Safeway. What are we doing (healthy!) for dinner?

His text - leaving now. I'll meet you at Safeway.

I was left with only this to text - Our lives are just TOO exciting.

Ah the big Safeway date. Dude, it's not even wegmans! happy Monday all!

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Poop, there it is!

Ran home from work at lunch to see the monkey. She was asleep when I got home, so I ate lunch and chilled for a bit. Then she woke up so I happily did get to see her a little. I went to say goodbye (running late as always) and picked her up into my lap for a last hug/cuddle/kiss. As I put her down, my Mom (who's visiting this week), noticed a wet mark on my leg - was that mud?

Nope, she pooped on me.

And this is why I always seem to take long lunches!

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Roseola: Under seige

And the rash continues...

Day 3.

The monkey is still not at all bothered by the rash as far as we can tell. She's sleeping well, eating reasonably well (I mean, she's 15 months old and not a great eater anyway, so let's not expect miracles here) and playing well/happy. I, however, am bothered by it. It hurts me to look at it. Her tiny little body covered in red spots (sniffle). Thank GOD they don't bother her. I think I'd be a basket case if they did (cause I'm so sane to start off with, right?).

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Everything’s coming up roses

Where to begin?

I know I was a little MIA last week, so I never mentioned the snot faucet of last week. Sorry? Too graphic? Did I jump right in a little fast there? Let’s try again.

Last weekend, the monkey had a runny nose. Only saying a runny nose sounds a bit benign compared to the actual level of running – she had a marathoning nose. A nose whose procreative powers knew no limits. And thus I bring you back to my point – snot faucet.

So Monday we took her to the doctor, noting that she really had no other symptoms – no fever, eating fine, sleeping fine, all that – just gallons of colorful mucus. He checked her out and diagnosed an ear infection (despite the lack of fever or fussiness) and prescribed an antibiotic. We went on about our week – tissues in hand – until the weekend, when the congestion seemed worse and a cough started on Saturday. We talked about and, given that the office is closed on Sundays and it was a holiday weekend, it seemed like a good idea to bring her back in right away. So we did.

Apparently the antibiotic wasn’t working, so the doctor prescribed another antibiotic, something for the congestion (which no one stocks) and, ugh, a shot – extra strength antibiotic. It was horrible.

But maybe it was working as the mucus marathon seemed to be coasting down to a 5k or something (or the sprints were now a jog? I don’t know. Maybe this metaphor is dead.). So, we figured she was FINALLY getting better.

My husband went to work yesterday morning and when the baby got up, I gave her breakfast and her antibiotic and we decided to go for a walk. When I got her outside and saw her belly (her t-shirt had ridden up) when I put her in the stroller, I turned around and went right back in to the call the doctor. A rash.

Oh man – if it’s not one thing… So I called the doctor and left a message and the nurse called me back. I explained she’d had her 15 mo inoculations recently so it could be that (I later realized that they were 2.5 weeks ago, so it probably couldn’t be that) and she had a new antibiotic, so it could be a rash, but I really didn’t know. She said it could be a lot of things so she called the doctor, who called me back and told me to discontinue the antibiotic as it was either an allergic reaction (in which case it should clear in 24 hours if I stopped) or roseola.

This doctor (our least favorite at this office. Ok, fine, that was being polite. We really don’t like him.) has a very thick accent, so I kept trying to figure out what he meant. Rosacia maybe? While I’d waited for him to call me back, I’d called my husband and pretty much every mom I knew to get reassurance on what this was – none of the suggestions had sounded like that… Anyway, he said if she had no fever and seemed happy I shouldn’t worry, but should bring her in the next day.

This morning – I swear it looked worse. You definitely didn’t need to go outside to see it in the light. It was apparent everywhere (well, it’d been pretty much everywhere the day before – but maybe not so much on her face). We went to the doctor (we managed an appt for 8:40 so I was just a little late for work) and he (same one we don’t like) said, yes, it’s roseola. Apparently this is a common viral infection in kids under 2 – it normally starts with a high fever for a few days and then this rash.

Overall, he did NOT give us great info. I asked a lot of questions. He mostly seemed to keep talking about what he was talking about rather than giving responses. Then my husband repeated my questions and we actually got some answers. Oh yeah, I’m loving this guy now. Let me give an example:

Me: Should we tell parents of other kids she’s seen recently about this?
Dr.: You could do that. (Blah, blah about the progression from fever to rash.)
Me: Do we need to keep her away from other kids now?
Dr.: You could do that. (Blah, blah blah about the rash)
Hubby: Is she contagious?
Dr.: No, she shouldn’t be.

Ok, so why would I quarantine her if she’s not contagious? (Apparently, it’s sort of like chicken pox – it’s contagious before you have the rash. Maybe. Who knows? I think I picked that up from web MD.)

So my husband took her home and I went to work. I stopped in at lunch and the rash looked WAY worse. Much more pronounced on her face, the bumps seemed bigger / redder / more raised. My husband was just coming in from an errand and she was out cold asleep (thereby making her lethargic and much more worrisome to me!). We discussed our options of other doctors (don’t you think the doc should have mentioned we could expect the rash to get worse?) or an ER this evening.

I guess this is what parenting is all about…

Am I the only one or does everyone else get paranoid about illness (esp. these ugly rashes)? Has anyone else’s kids had roseola? (Any more surprise symptoms that my doctor didn’t think I’d want to know about?!)