Monday 28 August 2017

Pity Party for One

I am throwing myself a pity party. It is epic and long... since last night I have been drowning my sorrows in a bottle of wine, a package of liquorice, and a king sized chocolate bar. I spent most of the night bouncing between the bathtub full of any bubble bath I could get my hands on and the glider in the babies room while she screamed about teething. This morning I woke up and really truly did not think I had it in me to venture out of the warm, snuggly, caress of my bed. I thought just maybe if I squeezed my eyes tight enough and ignored the dog's whining for long enough I would get back to sleep. No such luck, my gremlins were waking up and dying to be released from their torture chambers (bedrooms). I pulled myself from the warm embrace of my heavenly blankets and got on with the morning ritual of changing diapers/pull-ups, digging through laundry piles, and forcing tiny monsters to brush their sharp little fangs. I threw some breakfast at them and attempted to push the new poison (epilepsy medication) down the toddler's throat. After thirty minutes of all out war and three bowls of cereal on the floor I locked myself in the bathroom and pretended I could not hear the crashes of every toy being pulled of the shelf. I thought that maybe at this point I should pick myself up and attempt to look human so my bad mood / shitty attitude wouldn't wear off on the kids. I tried on four different outfits and was beyond dismayed at how they fit (all the stress eating has turned my former oompa loompa like shape into that of Violet Beauregarde in the blueberry scene.) After finally giving in and pulling out the most potato sack like shirt I could find I scrubbed my face, brushed my teeth, and attempted to run a brush through the tangled rats nest on my head. Somehow I had gotten toothpaste on my hand and it ended up all over my hair, whatever it must act as either a dry shampoo or a leave in conditioner, right? Maybe it will be like that sun in stuff we all used in the 90's to make our hair that lovely sun-kissed (hahaha read disgusting) summery shade.

Alright well we are all dressed and kind of human looking now, I guess it is time to leave the house and interact with society. We can pretend we are normal for a couple hours. I think I will stop for some much needed caffeine on the way. I love my starbucks barista and I am sure that the $5 latte will solve all of my problems. At least that is what I will tell myself for the 30 minute drive into civilization (the city.)

Tuesday 22 August 2017

The big scary E

As a mom there is nothing more terrifying then your child being sick or hurt, especially when there is nothing you can do for them. As a nurse it is painful to see a patient suffer and no there is truly nothing you can do for them in that moment. These two things added together make for the most nightmarish moments of my life...

My sweet boy has been having seizure type episodes for over a year and while we are seeking treatment for him the process is long and trying. We have not even reached the point of a diagnosis never mind a solution.

We have seen many doctors and I have heard all kinds of medical terminology and theories thrown out about what might be going on. Many of these doctor's visits I am alone with the kids because for some ridiculous reason specialists seem to only work bankers hours, this makes it really hard for Shane to come as he can not take so much time off from work (it is a fairly new company). Luckily for us I do work shift work and I have given up my permanent position meaning my schedule is fairly flexible and when an appointment opens up I have the ability to change my work hours. This in itself is stressful and can sometimes be enough to push me over the edge.

At the first paediatrician appointment I had both kids and had worked a night shift the day before so I was not at my best. I tried so hard to be prepared and make sure I could keep both kids well occupied as doctors constantly seem to be running behind. I packed snacks, juice, toys, ipad, diapers, pullups, wipes, and even an emergency candy stash. We took the road trip into the city (yes it is only 30 minutes but with small kids, post night shift, trust me, it feels so very much longer.) We successfully navigated to the office and even managed to find a great parking spot (I parallel parked without incident!!!) We were even on time for our appointment (this never happens!) That is when the chaos cloud descended on us....

We walked into the office and were greeted by a gigantic boot rack where our shoes were to be placed, this would have been great if we were wearing socks... I didn't want to make a fuss so we took off our shoes and I thought we could just make sure to wash our feet straight after with the unending supply of baby wipes I had stashed in the car. The next obstacle was the dreaded sign "No food or drink please." FML!!! While I do understand that some kids have allergies and that this is fairly logical I had not even thought this would be in the realm of possibility. A place where there are small children but no snacks?! I think this is called hell. I checked in at the reception desk and managed to find a corner for the kids to sit and play with their toys but of course they wanted the germy office toys instead. After settling in and even managing to sit in a chair without my children climbing on me or making demands the nurse found us and asked to weigh and measure Isaac. This was only slightly painful and demeaning since he would not stand on the scale himself so I was also weighed (once with him and once without).

Finally we were herded into the tiny closet like space called an exam room and greeted by a paediatrician and a med student. They both poked and prodded at Isaac for his exam but he tolerated it pretty well. Finally he was allowed down to play with his sister and the doctor turned her attention to me. It was nearly impossible to concentrate on what she said to me as I was trying to stop the tiny humans from killing each other since they both wanted the same toy. The only thing I remember is all the scary words that popped out at me... MRI, genetic testing, neuro consult, EEG, ECG, blood work, brain imaging, grande mal, petite mal, absent seizure, focal seizure, and finally the scariest word that I never imagined hearing in relation to my kids.... EPILEPSY.

Now keep in mind this isn't yet a formal diagnosis only a theory of what might be going on. We have an MRI this week and our EEG next week. Hopefully the answers start to come soon.

#Epilepsy #paediatrics #medicalmama #nurselife #momlife #scarymoments #ijustwantsomeanswers

Thursday 17 August 2017

The eggs in grandma's pink basket

As a parent of two toddlers there are so many things that come out of my mouth that I never could have imagined saying. "No feet on the table.""Stop putting qtips in your nose.""We don't use spoons to hit.""Stop biting the dog." It goes on and on. One such sentence involved you guessed it; eggs and grandma's pink basket.

I suppose to most people that is a fairly innocent sentence that means nothing but after going through a couple of years of fertility treatments, working in a healthcare, and quite frankly being a woman eggs and a pink basket really can be misconstrued.

You see the day those words were uttered my mom had the brilliant (slightly torturous) idea of taking the children out of the house. I try to pack light but with two little kids that just doesn't happen, especially when I am trying to be fugal and not buy all the snacks. My mom raised three little kids so she knows exactly how excruciating it can be to take tiny people out. As a result when we go out we try for it to be a full day, this usually involves a picnic.

Both kids love food and Isaac in particular has started to take great delight in picnics. My parents have this little cooler, it is very 90's, hard-sided and pink with a green handle. The kids love this little cooler and think it holds the best food in the world. It doesn't matter if I pack the exact same food as my mom, the food that comes out of that pink box is the most decadent, heavenly, thing and the children must have it.

One of the staples that my parents pack is hard boiled eggs. Personally I despise eggs in most forms but find hard boiled the worst, I am pretty sure only the oldest people in the world actually enjoy them. That being said Isaac has an undying passion about eggs (I'm pretty sure it stems from the hours spent watching struthiomimus stealing eggs on land before time.) Anyway, every time we go out and Isaac spies that box he demands we immediately have "nunch." We have learned he really mostly wants eggs. This last picnic he ate a few eggs and after my parents managed to sneak a couple for themselves there were none left. "Gamma I need more eggs please!" "Sorry baby, there are no more eggs in grandma's pink basket."

#picnic #getoutside #momlife #toddlerlife #qtipsdontgothere #mommyblogger #bloggersofinstagram #toddlersofinstagram #whatdidijustsay

Saturday 5 August 2017

Potty purgatory

Ahhh the sweet moments of parenthood. The bright sunshine filled moments of life. Listen if you don't have kids you are missing out.

This morning I awoke from my luxurious beauty sleep, (a full 6 hours!) to the sweet sound of my little angel beckoning for me from her baby jail. "Mama! Baba!" she bellowed in her angelic tones.

Thank goodness it is the weekend so I do have Shane home to help with the morning rush. We got both kids up and nourished them with the traditional breakfast of high fructose corn syrup and red dye number 2. We managed to caffeinate ourselves and clear enough space on the floor for the beasts to battle *ahem* I mean play.

We decided it was a good time to go for a walk/bike ride/torture filled marathon to the park. Before this could happen we needed to dress all the flailing creatures, brush everyone's teeth, and take various bathroom trips. This is where the best part of my day happened, one of those #blessed moments of #motherhood. After the rest of my troop was cleaned, clothed, and pottyed, I thought I could take a moment in the washroom for myself. Hahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahhahahahahahahahhahahahahaha!!!!!!! I can hear you laughing.

I: "Mama can I come?"
M: "If you must."
He follows me into the bathroom and screams at me not to close the door.
I: "Don't close it mom! The ghosts will get us!"
I don't feel like fighting this battle as my bladder is about to burst so whatever I decided to pee with the door open. As I pop a squat so very gracefully my toddler thoughtfully thrusts a toy in my face...

I: "Here mom, Zurg! You be Zurg."
M: "Mom is going pee dude just wait."
I: "Zurg!"
Zurg is lovingly bashed into my face.

And this is how I found myself playing Toy Story on the potty. See you are totally missing out.
#blessed #motherhood #toystory #whathaveidone