Friday, April 17, 2009

Mother's talk

As anyone who's ever had a kid (and anyone who's ever been a kid) knows, a parent has to wear several hats at once, often more than one on any given day.

Cook, chauffeur, dishwasher, nurse, cheerleader, coach, hairstylist, psychotherapist, massage therapist, personal shopper... the list goes on.

I've got a bit of hathead today.

It's been a bit of a rough week in this household.

The boy got hit with a 24 hour stomach bug. He doesn't get sick too often, we are lucky that way. But he'd also managed to clang his head with the steel garage door on his way in an hour before bedtime. Great timing. So I was concerned that his nausea may have been associated with a concussion. Do we keep him awake? Do we let him sleep?

In the end, I decided to sleep next to him on the sleeping bag (oh, boy, there go the bones). He likened it to a sleepover. He seemed fine, but was having bad dreams and then a very verbal stomach. Thank goodness he doesn't share his Mom's emetophobia. He managed to get whatever it was out of his system, every 3 hours. He was back on his feet, and after a day resting, all is well again.

Yesterday's saga was not as fun. I don't know if I've shared this, but my daughter HATES anything fruits and vegetables and fibre related. Yes, this is a concern. She's already had one really bad bout of constipation and we had to take her to her pediatrician for that. (I'm sure she's gonna love me for this story one day.)

For this particular episode, I was a little more prepared. The poor thing was sitting on the toilet, her face so red, tears streaming down her cheeks as she told me it hurt and she wanted it OUT! "Is it going to be stuck forever?"

It was breaking my heart.

I'll spare you the details, but fixing it involved suppositories.

Yes, a parent's job is never done. Jill-of-all-trades, master of none.

So down she sat again, a bit happier knowing that Mommy had done something and that she would be productive at some point. With her princess book on her lap, she smiled.

"You're like a doctor! I love you mommy!"

"I love you too monkey."

"I love you because you make my poo come out and go away"

So apparently I am a master of one.

You can write "shit disturber" on my next hat.


Cheryl said...

Why do children find the funniest things to say even when they are sick? I love it

Hope the household in on the mend and the bugs are all gone!

Have a great weekend.

Kori said...

Fibercon granules in milk; sounds sick, works great. Spoken like a mohter who KNOWS. Also pedia-lax dissolving strips; the taste like, um, crap, but before they notice they are all dissolved and gone, and voila!

Domestic Goddess (In Training) said...

Master of All Things Poo Related. That is a title I strive for, as I cannot get my 2 year old potty trained and sometimes unconstipated. You are my Guru of Poo!

mammydiaries said...

Lol! Had a giggle at that one. Can relate on so many levels... :)

Ed said...


louann said...

Haha! You saved the day!! =)

Laski said...

You know, I'd really be interested in seeing the "hat" of a "shit disturber."

I'd bet it be shaped like a suppository.

We've had to wear this hat ourselves. Took both of us. But, one suppository later and we had one very grateful kid.

Totally worth it.

Tara R. said...

My son had the same aversion to fruit and vegs too when he was young. He eats more now that he's older and the problem seems to have 'passed.'

Kami's Khlopchyk said...

Oh my word, that is funny! I, myself, have worn the shit disturber hat. Not my favourite, I'll be honest with you. Actually, it kind of stinks.

Badness Jones said...

Oh poor little one....I shouldn't be laughing, but I can't help it! Does she like muffins? I make healthy high-fibre muffins and then load them full of chocolate chips, somehow the chocolate makes them overlook the fibre. (Plus, chocolate also has the desired effect!)

J at said...

Oh, congratulations! Telling her that she wouldn't have that pain if she ate her fruits and veggies doesn't help? UGH. Being a parent can indeed be FRUSTRATING.


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