Drugging my children and proud of it…

Anyone here ever had to drug a baby? Show of hands, please?

My daughter got her first ear infection at three months. Armed with a prescription for Amoxicillin, I prepared to dose her twice a day for ten days. I held her gently in my arms, and inserted the medicine syringe.

Daughter: What is this crap? Are you kidding me? Do you really think I’m going to swallow that garbage?
Me: Hold still. Drink it.
Daughter: Oh, hell no. ::squirm, fuss::
Me: (prying her mouth open and putting her in a headlock). Drink it, damn it! You have to!
Daughter: Nanananana…no I don’t! And you can’t make me!
Me: Wanna bet? (squirts the syringe into her cheeks, holding her upside down)
Daughter: (gives me an evil eye and spits the medicine in my face).

Repeat for 10 days. Need I say more? The child didn’t get the required dose, we ended up back in the pediatrician’s office, and she got a Rocephin shot.

3 months later:
Doctor: She’s got an ear infection. I’ll give you a prescription.
Me: Give her a shot.
Doctor: Well, for insurance purposes, we have to try the antibiotics first.
Me: She won’t take it.
Doctor: You just have to hold her down and force the medicine.
Me: (hysterical laughter)

My son is polar opposite. He thinks drugs are candy. If he could have medicine every day, he’d be thrilled. As for my daughter? She thinks it’s rat poison…

Men, babies, and duct-taped diapers

There are many women who don’t trust their husbands alone with the children. They’re afraid that he’ll forget to change the diaper, forget to feed the child, or lose the baby somewhere.

I am of a different opinion. I think men are perfectly capable of caring for the children. But it’ll definitely be different from your method. And that’s okay.

Once, I came home to find my husband holding the baby in the bathtub, running warm water from the faucet over our son’s bare bottom. Apparently he’d had an anti-gravity diaper, and short of hosing him off outside, this was the best my hubby could do.

Another time, I came home to find all the lights off, and Star Wars blaring at full volume. My son was in the swing full-speed, his little eyes wide open while light sabers dueled and laser beams shot across the screen. He was entranced. And better, not screaming.

Would I have ever considered these methods? Probably not. And that’s why men do just fine with the kids when we trust them.

What’s the most bizarre thing your husband has done to the kids?

Historic trivia: To make your own yeast, you use flour, salt, and boiling hop water. Add potatoes, sugar, and sometimes ginger. The potato is the best form of starch for the growth of yeast. (From the Boston Cook Book 1885)

Kid Sayings

My three-year-old son cracks me up. He is at the age where imagination controls everything. He can dream up the most incredible things, turning his coat into a superhero cape and a coloring page into a rolled up “light saber.” On the way home from day care, he’ll chatter on about his friends, periodically mixing in his own stories which may or may not be true. (killer bugs who tried to eat his friend Seth???) I can tell already he’s the son of a fiction writer. Sigh.

I ask him what he wants for breakfast and he replies, “Umm…probably just M&Ms.” When I explain that this is not a breakfast option (okay, so who WOULDN’T want M&Ms for breakfast), he says, “Okay. I’ll just have cookies then.” I love the matter-of-fact attitude.

What I love most of all is watching him with his sister when they don’t realize I’m there. He’ll kick back on the floor of his room, his feet propped against the bed, with a book in his hands. His sister will crawl over to see what he’s doing, and then she’ll get a book of her own to read, right next to him. Hers, of course, is the engrossing title “Yellow” which has a thought-provoking plot about ducks and lemons. His favorite titles range from “Stellaluna” to “One Dark Night.”

What favorite children’s books did you grow up with?

Historical trivia (yes, I forgot yesterday’s!!)–The vacuum cleaner or “hoover” was invented in 1899. The early models were huge and drawn by horses, like fire engines. If you wanted your house vacuumed, you ordered the cleaner, and the driver stopped the horses outside your door. The hoses were passed into the house through the windows, and the operators attached nozzles to the tubes to vacuum out the dirt.

Happy, Happy Birthday Baby

It’s my baby girl’s first birthday today. I can’t believe she’s one. The time has really flown. Of course, a baby photo is required to mark the occasion. Here we go:

The real reason for my excitement is that we get to flip the car seat around, AND no more formula! I swear, the rule of no milk until age one, must have been created by Enfamil and Similac. But it’s whole milk for us! Saving lots of money, money, money! Yippee!

For today’s history trivia, here’s the history of the birthday cake:

Some say the Greeks used to take cakes to the temple of the Goddess of the moon, Artemis. They took round cakes to represent the full moon. Another view is that the tradition of the birthday cake started in Germany. A bread was made in the shape of baby Jesus’ swaddling clothes. Geburtstagorten is another type of German cake that has been used for birthday. Hundreds of years ago it was customary to add small surprises to birthday cakes. When the guests received a slice, the different items were used to predict the future. Coins meant great wealth, a thimble meant you’d never marry.

**Can you imagine how ticked off a guest might have been if they got a thimble in their slice?

Baby Boot Camp

Last night, Baby and I had our first serious mother-daughter fight. The ChildWhoDoesNotSleep ™ decided that waking up at 1:30 a.m. and 4:00 a.m. for a bottle would be her new habit. I don’t think so. When she’s sick, that’s one thing. When she’s trying to rule the household, that’s another. So she got water in her bottle last night. This was her reaction: After approximately 1 hour of screaming, complaining, and being given water, she finally succumbed to a sulky sleep. Ha! I won.

And she did too, judging from the lack of sleep I got. Oh well, such is Baby Boot Camp. I’m big on training my kids to go to bed early and to get up early (of course I pay for this on the weekend). But I like having them both in bed at 7 p.m. so I can have some quality time with my husband. We have a pattern in our household, and it works for us.

This is what I need to do in my writing. My pattern is a bit off at the moment and I need to ensure that I write at the same time every day. Wasn’t there someone who said you have to do something 19 times in a row (or something like that) in order to form a habit? God help me if that’s how long it takes my daughter to sleep through the night. I think I’m really a morning person and I do so much better if I have my daily quota finished first thing. It brightens my day, knowing that I have X number of pages behind me. Maybe I need to stop blog-hopping in the morning and do my writing then. Hmmm…something to ponder.

What time of day is best for your writing?

Today’s trivia: In medieval times, cobwebs were used to staunch the bleeding in many wounds. The sticky quality of the spider webs would help the blood flow stop.

Dyeing Easter Eggs

Ah, 4:30 a.m. Gee, I love having babieswhodonotsleep(tm).

Today my son will be coloring Easter Eggs for the first time. This should be interesting. My friends have all warned me not to get it on clothing. But I have a sneaking suspicion that the dye won’t work…that it will stain my kitchen table, my son’s face, but not the eggs with that nice little Use Before March 16 stamp on them. Who came up with that, anyway? My husband is obsessive-compulsive about expiration dates. Now, I don’t go around using rotten eggs in my cooking, but I’ve never had a problem with it before.

This is the man who throws out the milk on the date stamped on it. If meat is three days old, out it goes. God forbid you should eat it 4 days later.

And worst of all, he doesn’t want the kids to eat cookie dough and batter. Raw eggs, you know. Salmonella.

Personally, I think licking the cookie dough bowl is a critical part of childhood. If you’ve never sneaked a hunk of chocolate chip cookie dough or licked the brownie bowl (okay, AFTER you’ve poured the batter into the pan), you’re missing out.

So we sneak around. When my hubby is watching sports or reading the paper, I grab a spoonful and sneak it to my son. We conspire together. Chocoholics unite.

One of the finer points of being a mom, in spite of the 4:30 wake-up calls.

It’s done

:cheers: Stick a fork in me! I’m done with the proposal.

Thanks to Kacey’s help, I now know where I need to tweak the synopsis to make it work. It’s the longest one I’ve ever done–9 pages. Ack! I’m usually a 5 page kind of girl. The quicker the better. On the bright side, it means I will probably be able to write this book faster than the others I’ve done. Maybe. It took me almost 3 weeks to do the synopsis which is HORRIBLE. The book turned out Amanda Quick-ish. I tried very hard not to do a villain in this book, but I guess I’m not quite ready to tackle that level of character-driven story. My idol is LaVyrle Spencer. Someday I’ll be as good as her level of writing (okay, so I’ll be ninety, but I’ll get there, okay?).

The kids enjoyed their Easter Egg hunt. My son was having a marvelous time. My daughter sat on the ground, looked at the three eggs beside her as it to say–you really expect ME to pick those up? Allow the peasants to serve me. It’s their purpose, after all.

If any of you have little boys and little girls, do you notice a difference in the way they behave? My boy is shy, but he has a great smile. My daughter has a sunny personality, but she is definitely a Princess (and don’t you forget it).

Last night I had my three-year-old son laughing hysterically. He asked me, “Mom, what are we having for dinner?” Usually I answer, to which he’ll respond–”I don’t like that. I’ll just have peanut butter and jelly.” I informed him it was bugs and sticks. He laughed so hard, he couldn’t contain himself. Gotta love three-year-old humor. But MAN, I was sick of that question.

Easter Egg Hunts

My kids are going on an Easter Egg hunt in a few hours. On my son’s first hunt when he was 14 months old, he picked up an egg and whacked it on the head of his best girlfriend. Now that’s courtship. Today, my daughter will have her first hunt. She’s eleven months old today. Not walking yet, but maybe she’ll crawl around. I’m curious as to what she’ll do. She’s the sort that would whack eggs (on her brother’s head). Her confidence and bullheaded personality are unbelievable (obviously, she MUST have gotten that from her father).

Anyway, Cheyenne McCray has a website Easter egg hunt. What a cool idea! You should go check it out.

In the meantime, I am wrapping up this synopsis. It is way too long (8 pages). Mine usually run about 5 pages, but for some reason, I feel the need to explain the characters’ goals, motivations, and conflicts. Gee, what a concept! Heh heh.

Now, to find a poor, unsuspecting editorial assistant….bwahahaha….:batman:

Dentists

My darling son had his first dentist visit today. It was a bit of a travesty. He took one look at the other patients (they had an open layout with only desks dividing the chairs) and a look of horror crossed over his three-year-old face. But he bravely climbed up into the chair, armed with a stuffed animal, prepared for the worst. He smiled gamely when they took his first dentist visit picture, though to me it looked like he was about to face a firing squad. She revealed the dental tools, and I noticed him staring at the dental pick like–Oh, God, no. What is that THING?

But it was all over when she turned on the polisher to show him how it tickled. The grinding sound made his little face screw up with an “Oh, HELL, no” look to it. It’s a wonder he didn’t flee from the chair. I tried to convince him to touch it. You’d have thought I asked him to touch a rattlesnake. We tried to have him open his mouth so she could look at his teeth. My son gave me a look that basically said–are you on CRACK, Mom? No way.

So, needless to say, he picked up his free toothbrush, waved at the hygienist (at which point she got the first glimpse of his teeth with his big smile of goodbye-you-weird-scary-people).

We’ll try again in six months. Sigh.