Germs and Grammy’s

So the Grammy's are tonight. Lady Gaga, Ke$ha, Taylor Swift the Girl Giraffe… I could probably pre-liveblog it and make all the same jokes I'll make tonight.

Except I may not get a chance to make any tonight because Ike-a-saurus is sick. Alas. He was doing so well with the gaining weight and the eating and the walking, and now he's back on o2 day and night, coughing his wee brains out, and generally feeling icky. We're trying SO HARD to stay out of the big H this time around.

Also fun, the wee-er one is on abx for a double ear infection (one of those that made the doctor jump back and flinch after he looked in her right ear). She's much better now, but still super grouchy. We're getting some wonderful gems like:

Wee-er one: [spontaneous crying] "I want my mommy!"

Me: "I'm right here, baby."

Wee-er one: "No! I want my OTHER mommy!"

Me: ???

Can I blame the Omnicef? I blame the Omnicef.

And just this very morning, the wee one came up to me, all excited, and said, "Hey! You know how sometimes you get water poop? Well I just had completely liquid poop!"

So there's that.

I think we're about to have some kind of awesome trifecta of fuckedupedness as each of the kids trade illnesses in a circular pattern until we all end up laying on the kitchen floor surrounded by our own filth.

This means I may not be able to liveblog the Grammy's tonight. I will try, dear friends. I promise to try. And if all else fails, I can liveblog the whole family laying on the kitchen floor surrounded by our own filth. Maybe we can get aLifetime made-for-TV movie out of it. "The Haikuoftheday Household: Oxygen, Poop and Hysteria. Or, the story of one mother's struggle to have it all, if "all" counts as one day of three square meals, not traumatizing the children by screaming at them, and 8 hours of sleep."

I'm going to go take off my pants Lady Gaga-style and have some toast before the liquified shit hits the fan.

This post is so gross.

2 thoughts on “Germs and Grammy’s

  1. I love me a gross post. Even though I’m not a mom-type, I love stories of the front lines.
    When I was 8, I distinctly remember going up to my mom one afternoon and, while pointing to my forehead, saying “Mom! Look! I got my first pimple!” Her response? “Oh no. That’s Chickenpox.” I’m the oldest of three. My father didn’t have it as a child. You can pretty much see how the next few weeks went at my house.
    I’m thinking of you and the kids. Hope things turn around, soon. At least you have poop jokes. Life without poop jokes is not worth living.


  2. When my daughter was 2, she got a gi bug that kept coming back, and would gaily announce, “I have chocolate milk diapers again.” I had a 2 week old infant, and I had just come home after a week in isolation for a hospital induced staph infection. One Sunday morning my mother arrived to help out and found me in tears because the kids had either pooped or spit up on every item of clothing that I could fit into, including my husband’s bathrobe. I know all about gross. Some time in the last 25 years, I was able to start laughing about it.


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