Thursday, June 12, 2008

Thursday Thirteen

So, it's been a crazy day, ok few days but let's count out:

Guilty Confessions of a Tired Mother.

Maybe we'll hit 13, I hope not.

1. When he starts crying lately my first thought is, Oh no, he's going to puke. I shouldn't just leap to that conclusion. But I can't stand puke. They say when it's your child, you don't mind. That's not true, puke is still puke and it's still really gross.
2. When he is going to puke, I step away, or give him to Daddy. Did I mention, I really don't like it when Chris gets pukey. I'm a sympathetic puker, and I heave just at the thought of him heaving. Enough.
3. When he started to bleed last night, my first thought was Oh no, not another hospital visit! Shouldn't it be, oh baby are you ok? OK, I will say that was my second thought.
4. I don't cook. Eric cooks. I bake occasionally, but since Chris, I have a low tolerance for raw meat, (see numbers 1, 2, and 3) and that marks out a lot of cooking processes. I feel like a defunct housewife that doesn't cook. Even Chris is getting in on cooking "toot" picking up spoons and stirring in real or imaginary pots.
5. I leave Chris behind, for example, I leave him for "Girl time" or drop him off in a play group or the church nursery where he is tortured by toys. Or at least you'd think he was tortured by the way he can tend to go on.
6. I take him on outings so I won't lose my temper with him. Not only does he behave better in public. But I am a better mother in public.
7. Time Outs are time outs for me. Lately Chris has gotten back to back time outs, because he hasn't come leaping out of the crib all happiness. Grudges do need more time. Last night he actually asked for More Time Out (Timer). Oh, and sometimes I forward it to 3 minutes for those few precious extra seconds. The thought of a 33 minute time out for me sounds heavenly. I'd probably fall asleep and take 3 hours.
8. I drink because he won't drink (either in his tube or the days when he could drink orally).
9. I drink because he cries. (Sometimes alcohol and sometimes Starbucks)
10. I pinned down his arms and a leg while the nurse did terribly painful things to his open G-tube wound today. They had to do the Silver nitrate therapy for granulation tissue on his site today, and they were very thorough.
11. I intentionally inflicted pain upon my baby "for his own good". See above. And I "helped". I did not feel helpful, I felt mean.
12. I could do nothing to stop his cry.
13. I bribed my son. I bribed him with a ride in a Riley red wagon. It didn't work. I bribed him with a trip to the zoo. That worked...for a while. I bribed him with drinks of water, which he probably shouldn't have, but at least he doesn't silently aspirate water, he noisily aspirates it. I bribed him with TV and he fell in love with Fraggle Rock.

OK, I can't think any more. Good night. Hopefully, tomorrow will be a better day.


Carrie said...

I already know what you mean about being an "accomplice" to their pain. It's horrible. When Brett was 5 days old they had to run a series of blood tests for his jaundace in the hospital, and I watched them try to collect 5 viles of blood from his tiny veins. His painful cry broke my heart.

Cathy said...

Thanks, it is so hard. I just felt like the worst parent ever. We can't explain to them, they don't understand, we're really trying to help. I take comfort in that he'll forget most of this.