Seriously...where's George Clooney?

Another post, another trip to the ER. Things with Griffin got really bad on Monday. We received a call from his day care that he had been screaming for a couple of hours. He didn't have a temp, but his cough was sounding a lot worse. Patrick picked him up and when I got home from work, I just knew that things were going downhill...quickly. After a quick discussion (and a phone call to his doctor), we decided that the best thing would be to take him to the ER.

The poor little guy was put through the ringer - he got an RSV swab (think throat culture but this one is done up the nose), two separate breathing treatments, and a chest x-ray (they had to strap him into some weird contraption so he wouldn't squirm). They were able to eliminate some of the wheezing and bring the oxygen level in his blood almost back to 100%. It broke my heart to watch him fall asleep from pure exhaustion while the respiratory therapist held the tiny oxygen mask to his face.

No RSV. No Pneumonia. That was definitely good news, but he's still pretty sick. I stayed home with him yesterday because he was feeling pretty miserable, although he perked up a bit at night.

It has been a long couple of days and we're all tired. I'm looking forward to the extended holiday and I hope we still are able to make it to Chicago for Thanksgiving dinner with my family. It all depends on how Griffin is doing today.

4 Months

Teething

Just a few examples from the past couple of weeks:


(teething and cranky)

(chewing on anything and everything)

(he can almost fit his entire fist in his mouth)

(fingers are his new best friends)

(a happy drooler)

Where's George Clooney when you need him?

We ended up taking Griffin to the ER last night. He developed a raspy cough early on Monday morning, but by the end of the day yesterday it was pretty bad and he was wheezing quite a bit. When the doctor listened to him breathe, he said that Griffin was wheezing so bad that he couldn't even hear if he had pneumonia. So, we had to give him a breathing treatment - a difficult feat with a 4-month old. He moved his head around so much that I could barely keep the mask up to his face. The doctor listened to him again and said that there was no pneumonia, but he was having an asthmatic reaction to a respiratory infection. Now we're giving him breathing treatments twice a day for a week plus oral steroids and antibiotics. Good times.

Looks like the little guy wasn't so lucky having asthmatic parents...

Ugh

I'm dreading today's 5-hour management meeting. Is a 5-hour meeting really necessary? Probably not, but we're having it anyway. I developed a headache last night in anticipation of sitting in this ultra-warm room with a bunch of my co-workers who talk entirely too much (hence the need for a 5-hour meeting).

At least we're getting compensated with lunch...and apparently some good baklava.

I'm a Bad Mother

Hello. My name is Tracy and I'm a bad mother. No, not a "bad mutha" like Shaft...because that would actually be pretty awesome. I'm talking about a bad mother. A bad parent. The kind of bad mother who actually tells her screaming 3-month old baby to "shut up." I didn't just tell him, I yelled at him, and I didn't just yell it once. I yelled it over and over and over.

We're not sure what's wrong right now. He started to teethe a couple of weeks ago and he fights sleep like crazy. He can be completely asleep and then you put him in his crib and it's like someone lit his hair on fire. By the end of the night, I lose my patience. Last night, I was with him for an hour - changed his diaper, fed him a bottle, rocked him, rubbed his back, talked to him softly. He fell asleep. And then the wheels fell off - his and mine.

I can't believe that I did it. I can't believe that I yelled at him. I know he can't help it - he cries because that's one of the only ways he can communicate. I remember looking at him while he was screaming and he looked scared and exhausted. I should have hugged him. I should have kissed him. But I didn't. I chose to yell at him. Patrick finally came to relieve me and I went downstairs.

Griffin woke up at about 4:30 AM to be changed and fed. He looked up at me while he ate and he smiled. He didn't remember what I had said to him just a few hours earlier. All he knew was that I was there to comfort and feed him - I wasn't that horrible person who yelled.

After he fell back asleep, I just stood there and watched him...and I sobbed. I whispered over and over how sorry I was and how much I loved him.

I just hope he heard me.

Fight Club

The first rule of Fight Club is don't talk about Fight Club.

The first rule of parenting is don't talk about how absolutely crappy the previous night was...

Me and Patrick on Friday morning

The "Write" Place

If I had this room in my house, I would sit and write all day - no more excuses. Well...I guess I'd still have to take care of the kids and cook dinner and mop the floors and pay bills and...

Oh well, I still love the room. It's nice to have a dream, right?

First it was colic, and now this...

I couldn't have said it better myself...

"There was perhaps no more profound way to slam the door on eight years of the Bush administration than to elect the first African-American to replace him. The symbolism is powerful; the history is breathtaking. We changed a lot more than our political orientation last night. The country finally grew up.

Something stirred us in a profound way. The disillusionment and disappointment of failed polices everywhere you look were the catalysts. Barack Obama was the spark. Watching him in Grant Park last night, it occurred to me that just like Hemingway was born to write and Tiger Woods to hit a golf ball, this man, Obama, was born to do this, to lead."

~Jack Cafferty~

Mr. President

Wow

Waiting...

Voting

I left the house extra early this morning with Griffin so I could vote. First, the information I pulled from the County web site sent me to the wrong precinct. When I finally got to the correct precinct, it was completely disorganized and there was a long line. I waited it out and finally sat down to vote. I looked at Griffin, who was right next to me, sleeping peacefully. He has no idea how historic this election could be. I took a deep breath and filled in the bubble next to Barack Obama's name (no computerized voting where I live!).

It felt good.

And now we wait...

Election Anxiety

The Democrats' case of the jitters - The Boston Globe

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