This Is Getting Ridiculous

10:30 pm + waking from sound sleep + high fever + vomiting = better than 50% chance of cancellation of surgery in the morning.

We're supposed to take her in anyway if she seems at all improved, though the peds anesthesiologist on call said they would still probably cancel. Yay.

8:00 am

We've cancelled. She had to go in and be assessed, but since her fever spiked again when she got up and she vomited in the car on the way in (and of course, we walked out of the house without the bag with her change-of-clothes), the anesthesiologist said there's no reason to make her more miserable and risk a longer hospital stay. This isn't a pressing issue, so we'll reschedule.

Lather, Rinse, Repeat

So, barring any more bicycle accidents, Peanut is scheduled for surgery tomorrow morning. We have to be at the hospital at the ungodly hour of 6:15 am, which is acceptable only because at least this way she won't be begging for breakfast for very long.

This will be the first time she'll go into surgery as a person who actually understands a little of what is going on. She was so young with the rest of them that there was no point in preparing her more than a few minutes ahead of time, and she tended to ignore us even then. Now she can talk and understand and anticipate, so we actually have to think of something to tell her. Plus, we have the nifty package from the children's hospital, containing a surgical hair covering and mask for Big Daddy to put on, and the oxygen mask for Peanut to play with, so she doesn't freak out at Daddy's face with the mask in the OR, or get scared when they put the mask on her. I'm not looking forward to it. Sometimes, parenting really sucks.

*****

Last week I didn't have much internet access because of work and because our home service was down for a few days, so I didn't get to share our big news. Our little Peanut has gained so much in the last year from Speech Therapy that she officially has been discharged from her therapist! I can't say I'm surprised, as I can't imagine that any two-year old that uses full sentences and can pronounce "rhinoceros" correctly as well as use it in a sentence qualifies for services anymore. She is testing at normal levels for pronunciation and waaay above normal for vocabulary and use. It really just blows my mind, as just a year ago she was so behind. She couldn't chew her food and she said just three words (no, up, and mo' for more- she sounded like she was Cajun). I'm so proud of her.

I have a couple of half-finished posts sitting around that I haven't had time to get up here. Plus, I am thinking of lifting my self-imposed moratorium on pictures (I was getting some really freaky searches on here--I'm not one to judge what someone gets off on but I'm not knowingly going to let my kid be a part of it). So we'll see what kind of time I have in the next couple of days. You know work has gotten bad when you look at your kid's surgery as a good thing because it means you don't have to go in to the office. But I might have some extra free time, which is good because there have been some rocking good posts by other people I want to respond to.

Excuse me, I am being requested to play the part of Baby Lady Puppy in the one-act, Hi, I'm Baby Rhinoceros, Would You Like Some Cookies?

Foiled

Last night she was asleep by 9:30, and today she napped,so I thought we were in the homestretch. But tonight, 10:30 again.

The last few nights she has been insisting that I tell her a story. When I asked her what she wanted it to be about, she said, "Dinosawr!" One named "Crunch", specifically. Crunch has been lost in the woods and escaped a T-Rex (or Dinosawr Rex, as she calls them), lived with a little girl and her parents, and gone sailing on a boat in the ocean so far.

Have I mentioned that I don't really have a creative bone in my body? Maybe one of the small, inner ear bones is creative, but it doesn't get much say. I am of German ancestry, and it seems to be overwhelming the Irish part when it comes to telling tales. I actually sat down and googled "Dinosaur Story" yesterday, in hopes that it would help. Apparently there are a lot of other people who don't have my problem. Or maybe they did, and just honed their skills by telling stories late at night to overtired toddlers.

On the bright side, this is what she decided she wanted to wear for Halloween. I wish you could hear her try to say "triceratops".

Night Owl

You think I was kidding about the no sleep thing? Last night it was 11:15. Tonight it is 10:25, and she's still awake, telling me she is afraid because she saw an alligator in her room. And no nap today either.

If Toddlers Ran The U.N.

Overheard in the car:

"Oh, I wuv you, dinosawr!"

"Oh, I wuv you too, Daffy Duck!"

Where I've Been (Again)

In case any of the 2 people who still read this blog (hell, my mother doesn't anymore) and don't know me in real life are interested, I am not blogging because Peanut has decided that sleep? SLEEP IS FOR LOSERS. Especially naps.

The nap thing wouldn't affect me too much (hey, my mom watches her during the day--it really sucks for her), except that on the car ride home she inevitably falls asleep despite frequent toe-ticklings. She will sleep coming out of the car seat, walking up to the house on the insanely busy street (including through ambulance sirens), walking through the house with the dog barking and jumping on me, but literally, as soon as she touches the bed the SCREAMING starts. And then she's refreshed, and ready to go another eight hours or so.

So the bedtime struggle has begun in earnest. She has recently finally gotten to the point where, assisted by a pillow, she can sit herself up from lying down on her own. This is good because it she is obviously more independent, and isn't crying "sit up bed! sit up bed!" to me at night anymore, which broke my heart. Other little kids can sit themselves back up in bed to play as soon as Mama leaves, after all. So now she can, but this is so new that a couple of weeks ago I went in after hearing her crying on the moniter two hours after putting her down to find her sitting up, in tears from exhaustion because she REFUSED to lie down if I wasn't making her. Since then, she has gotten better about laying herself down, but at least half the time that isn't before Letterman and who can stay up that late anymore? Besides Peanut? I can hear her on the moniter, even if (when) I give up and go to bed early, and it keeps me up. She's singing to her animals, they are inviting each other to parties, and periodically they fall down and get boo-boos and cry and call for their mamas in such a lifelike way I have to get up and check to see if it is Peanut or Blue Cow that needs me (I've discovered a key hint that helps me--if it is fake boo-boo she says, "Ow!Ow!Ow!", exactly like that, three times, but if it is real it's only once or twice before the crying starts).

(An aside: Peanut got a Paddington Bear as a gift recently and promptly took his clothes off to share with her other stuffed animal friends. Somehow, Blue Cow ended up wearing the pants. The other night, we were sitting and playing the game with the animals where they all say Hello and introduce themselves to each other. So I have Blue Cow and she has Bear and they politely introduce each other and then Bear says, rather indignantly, "Hey, you're wearing my pants!")

Most nights she finally goes to bed so late that all I can do is feed the pets before I am falling in to bed myself. I'm not exaggerating here, you can ask Big Daddy who has to do all the chores. I am working on various things to help change this, but because I am not cured of Chronic Fatigue Syndrom, just improved, it doesn't take very much to send me over the edge into all-out exhaustion. In fact, I'm so close now that I completely lost my train of thought as to where I was going with this post. I just discovered a sentence I started but didn't finish in the last paragraph, and I have no idea why. Our solution to this is going to be getting her a real bed. She's certainly old enough, and I think she'll feel less like she's going to prison in one. I will be able to lie down with her there instead of in my own bed, so perhaps I will get some sleep there.

Tonight, Big Daddy is sleeping in the guest room, the cats are shut out of the bedroom, and I will be putting in earplugs. Wish me luck.

Seriously, Don't Do It

I thank Steve for this game.