The above photo was taken last week... This is NOT what our house looks like right now... But I had these fabulous photos that I wanted to show. So the photos are in no way a depiction of what is going on in our household right now. Instead, we have a cranky newborn and a screaming toddler. We will begin with the screaming toddler...
Two nights ago, the girl had an award-winning meltdown. She should have been given an Oscar. Unfortunately, poor Daddy was the recipient of all the wrath that she had to spew. In now trying to remember the timeline of events, my mind has actually blocked out most of it. My brain obviously knows how to keep me mentally sane. I do remember dinner being fine. Some good ole' fashion Mac 'N Cheese with Velveeta, of course -- much to the chagrin of E who swears that Velveeta is NOT considered cheese. In my raising in the Midwest, Velveeta actually has it's own cheese-subsection, but that's a story for another time.
Aaaah, yes. Then it was bath-time. Fish was to get a bath in the big bathtub as it's still fricking winter here (Hello, Mother Nature?!?!? Just wanted to tell you that I'M OVER IT! We had snow on the ground yesterday -- enough is enough. Seriously.) and our upstairs is a hell of a lot warmer than our main floor AND also, the kid is just too big for the infant bath that I usually put on the counter. So I used the infant rack (not sure what else to call it) and put that in the bathtub to give him a bath. Worked like a charm. Finn came up and "helped" with the bath. Obviously, her helping was wetting a washcloth and wringing it out on the floor. Once Brother is finished with his bath, she was up next, but wouldn't put down her washcloth and wouldn't stop wringing it out on the floor. Then we made a first-time parent of a toddler mistake. We said -- "Do you want to take a bath?" Ooops. Because of course, the answer was "NO!" And then all holy hell broke loose.
Girlfriend did NOT look like this two nights ago. She had horns growing out of her head, her teeth were sharp as knives, and she was holding a pitchfork.
I drained the tub of the water that we were going to give her a bath with as E tried to tame the tornado that she had become and put on her jammies. I'm not sure what brought about her wrath to be honest. Maybe a combination of not wanting to take a bath, not wanting to go to bed and not wanting to stop throwing water everywhere -- but I think the sole factor was that she was overly tired. Proceeding on, I took Fish into our bedroom to feed him and hopefully put him to sleep so E and I could be a two-man team against Finn the Ferocious. Unfortunately, he didn't get the memo and it took him about 45 minutes to fall asleep. So E was on his own. The screaming wails that were coming from her room were some of the worst that I've heard from her (worse than the shrieks that cats make when they are fighting). He put her in his crib and had to leave her room, probably to ensure that he would still have hearing the next day. Once she was calm, he proceeded back into the pits of fury only to return a couple of seconds later as the shrieks erupted, again. Finally, she had simmered enough to listen to him explain to her what she needed to do in order for him to stay with her. Then, the evil spirit that had taken over her body left and she became our little cherub again, dreaming sweet dreams until the morn when it all starts over again. Lather, rinse, repeat...
To top that all off, Fish isn't his sweet angelic self either. Rah, rah. Earlier in the week, I noticed his toes for the first time. I know, I know. What mother doesn't constantly pay attention to her kid's toes. Obviously, I don't. The poor baby has some serious ingrown toenails on his big toes. In fact, on his right big toe, the entire toenail bed is sunk at least 1/8 inch below his skin. So as that toenail is growing out, it is pushing it's way back into the skin on the edge of his toe -- the entire edge of his toenail, mind you. The left big toe is only halfway growing back into his skin. The right toe is so severe that if it continues, it will come out the other side of the tip of his toe! So I immediately call his pediatrician who is out on vacation and end up with Dr. Awesome, a younger doctor in her practice. E & I have had Dr. Awesome once before. Her name is derived from the fact that everything positive we told her was "Awesome!" "He is eating well." "Awesome!" "He is sleeping great." "Awesome!"
So I take Fish to see Dr. Awesome, who didn't say anything was awesome during this visit. In fact, she said that the toe was so severe that she couldn't do anything with it and gave me a referral to a podiatrist. As she was giving me some treatments that I could do at home with him while I wait for his podiatry appointment, she did say twice "He is going to LOVE that." The first time was in reference to me having to soak his toes in an epsom salt bath twice a day for 20 minutes! That time, I thought she was being serious as what baby doesn't love to be soaked in warm water, kind of like a bath. The second time was when I was supposed to clean it with hydrogen peroxide a couple of times a day and put bacitracin on it. Then I became suspicious that she was being sarcastic. Come to find out when I got home and begun soaking his feet, she was sarcastic. What newborn wants to sit straight up and have his feet dangling in water -- I usually end up soaked because he is kicking the bowl away. AND there is absolutely NO WAY that you can get a newborn to sit with his feet in water for 20 minutes! So we do it as long as we can -- usually 5 minutes. And of course, there are no pediatric podiatrist in our HUGE hospital system except one. And he is only a podiatrist that is willing to see a patient as young as Fish. Of course, we can't get in to see him until next Tuesday -- so I'm crossing my fingers and legs that his nails will not grow a lot in the next five days... So far, the toe nails are not infected, so that's a good thing. Again, crossing everything I got that it stays that way...
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