Jack has had a rough month. It started with a double-ear infection just before Christmas. He now has a sinus infection and, over the weekend, all of his cranial orifices were so clogged that he ended up with pink eye. Ew. This has left me administering many medications to an unwilling child.
The last time J had an ear infection, we took him to a doc in our group who was not his usual pediatrician. He was a short, slight man, but had a nice bedside manner. When he tried to pin Jack to look in his ears, he needed help. As the then 2-year-old thrashed about, limbs flailing in all directions, the tiny doc looked up and said "Boy, he;s strong!" with the most weirdly intense, I-am-trying-to-hold-it-together smile I have ever seen from a physician.
I tell you this because now it is my turn in the ring with The Toddler. We started Saturday night with eye drops for the Pink Eye. After about 6 unsuccessful attempts, I tagged in my partner. Well, "tag" is not really true. It took BOTH of us - large-ish, grown people, to hold down The Boy and pry his eyelids open to administer the drops. I SWEAR he is going to have 2 black eyes by the time we're done with the drops tonight.
He also has what I call (God, forgive me) Wal-Mart Baby Nose. He wakes up with a thick crust of goop attached to both nose-holes. And this goop has multiplied, had a family, given them names. You know, taken root. This is stuff that cannot be sicked out by the Booger Ball (oh, what, you actually call it the "nasal aspirator?).
Here is something not a lot of people will say out loud: Only your mother loves you enough to pick your nose. This also involves me pinning him to the floor with my knees and holding his head in some kind of grip I must have learned from watching "COPS." I have tried sucking the boogies out with the little bulb aspirator thingny. I have tried having him blow. I have tried warm washcloths to loosen said goop. Aside from take a pick axe and a miner's head lamp up in there, this is the only way I can figure to get the job done, people.
Finally, there is the administering of the horrible tasting medicine. Even though we have had it flavored "grape," I have tasted it. It is BAD. This involves the aforementioned pinning, trying to get him to swallow the medicine while The Boy is basically blowing a constant stream of air out of his mouth so that nothing can go it (he's a smart little bugger). My only chance is catching him on the inhale. And to get him to swallow it, I have to hold his nose. Lord, it is awful. This entire routine takes a while each evening. And we've started bribing him with chocolate. It helps, but only with the taste afterward.
I'm not sure which one of us is going to come out of this latest bout of illness more scarred - physically and emotionally. I won't lie. The kid has a killer right hook. He land's it almost 50% of the time, because Mommy is old and slow. But I swear I need a drink every night after the trauma of having my only child scream "Noooooo MOOOOOMMMMYYYYYYY!!! STOP!" For a good 10 minutes.
OK, so that is my vent for the day. I am going to go pump some iron now, in preparation for tonight's match. God help me if that kid learns how to drop-kick.
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7 comments:
Oh, dude. You're taking me back...
My niece Shelby was attacked by a dog who took a nice chunk of her face out on her 3rd birthday. Her parents were out of town so I was the one holding her(down)in the ER while they stitched her face up. My heart broke in 2 when she said, clear as a bell, "No! You can't do this to me! It's my body and I say no!" Her mother had so carefully taught her about not allowing people to touch you in a way you don't like and here I was holding her down while people touched her in a way she most assuredly did not like, disproving the whole lesson. It was possibly the hardest thing I'd ever done. I was sure she would hate me when it was over and I thought, "oh well, better me than her mom". But I was wrong. She clung to me when it was over. She somehow knew that - scary and painful as it was - I was the one who was there looking out for her.
She's 9 now and doesn't remember any of that (although she does remember the attack). I, on the other hand, will never forget it.
Booger ball? I hadn't heard that one. Walmart Baby Nose? Classic. Life sucks when your baby's sick. Hope YOU are healthy at least. By the way, I pick my kids' boogers, too. I find it somehow more satisfying than picking my own. What is it about getting a really good chunk of booger out from deep in one of their teeny tiny nostrils that's so satisfying?
It's that "instant gratification" thing, I think :)
I am well, since I have learned the wonders of the SinuRinse. A post unto itself. No sinus infections since I started using it, though. TMI?
Is it not a little bit funny that today in your blog you were the "masked avenger" and in my blog I was "batgirl"?
Jenny - We always were a great team. Even separated by several hundred miles and a time zone. Great minds always think alike. Apparently, we both are feeling like Super Heroes - oh wait, we're just moms. Same thing.
Here's a thought, something that worked for Nick when he was that age. His biggest issue with amoxicillin, eye drops and nasal clearing was that he didn't have a choice in the matter. So I offered to him that he could squirt the syringe in the back of his mouth past the tongue where he couldn't taste it. Or he could gulp it down from the cup--his choice, but it had to be done. Once he had the control, he took it willingly. BTW this is also the reason why my kids take cherry tylenol "swoops" and we say "let's do shots" before medicine time. It prepares them for college.
Anyhow, Jack might have to practice, but if his main issue is the loss of control, not the actual medication itself, you might just want to hand over a little self-determination to him.
And the boogers? Let 'em sit right where they are. Tie a hanky to his hand or put him in your least-favorite of his long-sleeved shirts. He'll take care of it.
Feeb - That's funny. When J takes his Tylenol from the cup, Osi and I chant "Chug, chug chug!" Also niccely preparing him for college.
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