YOLO

If you read my last post you know I had a pretty dramatic experience with my oldest Ava getting sick, well my youngest Lela got sick as well and we had an almost equally dramatic experience. This post is not about her being sick though, it's actually about the way I was treated when we went into the ER.
First, as many may gather, I am what you would consider a "young mother" part of the "who likes condoms?" species, under the "I was young and dumb, he was cute and dumber" genus, closely related to the "we have been married for a month so let's have a baby" genus.
Despite the way, the who, or the when of how I became a mother I feel like I have done a pretty damn good job of raising my kids and maintaining my household. That being said, let's move on to the delightful nurses and doctor that decided to use their medical school degrees to evaluate me as a mother based on my lack of life experience. It may be irrelevant how other people think of me but this is something that boils my blood.
So it's 10-11 pm and my two year old hasn't stopped crying since we got to the room in the ER, my other daughter is screaming because the nurses are repetitively stabbing at her for an unnecessary IV that they eventually gave up on. It is officially the second time within a week that I find myself in the hospital only I don't have my adoring husband with me (he is in the field). I am NOT in a good mood.
At this point I have already had Nurse A make remarks about how I was handling my melting down toddler, the doctor has reminded me in only the most condescending way possible that "an infant with a fever is an EMERGENCY situation" as if we weren't standing in an exam room in THE ER, and thye are telling me they need to do an (also unnecessary) spinal tap on Lela, when all of a sudden Nurse B (for Bitch) asks me "What's wrong with her?" looking at Ava like she smelled her own asshole, so I plainly told her that it is well past her bedtime and she doesn't want to be here.
"Well, you don't look like you want to be here either." she says, as she stares at me like I am a whining 10 year old brat.
.........................................................
so I spelled it out for her, since she clearly needed me to, "No, I don't."
"Well, young lady, we have to take care of your baby!!!!"

I was so far done....
About 20 minutes after this altercation, Nurse A-hole comes into the room right after they took Lela out for an x-ray and all I can think is "fuuuuuu, she is about to give me a speech about being a mom"
and that is what she did, starting with "Are you feelin' overwhelmed?" and finishing with "you're young and I know it's hard, but it will get easier..."

You would of thought I was the first person in history to walk into the ER in the middle of the night with a sick baby and screaming kid not thinking to put a sweet little smile on my oh so young face.

Can you catch the point of the story?
Why does everyone look at young mothers and automatically think they are in over their head and therefore need guidance, it's like there are old lady Yoda's lurking in the dark corners of all grocery stores, hospitals, and restaurants waiting for your child to misbehave so that they may use The Force on your ego (and patience) to remind you of your age.

I can remember after finding out I was pregnant with Ava when i was 19, being told that I should give her up for adoption because I had my whole life ahead of me and that I would miss out on so many experiences... I was literally told that I should shed my responsibility so that I could go have "fun".
Let me just say that having been married twice, traveling across Europe, or even simply going to college can not prep you on how to change a diaper, teach a child some manners, and generally keep them alive until they can do it themselves. Bringing another life into the world can come at any time and no matter what over priced book you have read, you will not be prepared and I will bet any amount of money that a 30 year old first timer who had all kinds of "life experiences" would be just as nervous as I was when I was a 19 year old first timer.

This has turned into a rant.
So, rant over I suppose.

Viruses are nasty SOB's

So this week was a first for me as a parent. I learned that there are some things that just come with the territory of being, not just a mom, but a parent in general. Both of my kids ended up with a nasty nasty virus. My oldest, Ava had it the worst and I swear she got it from the McDonald's play place. Before you judge me for taking my kid to McDonald's, that play place is awesome for play dates (if you can get over the stench of rubber, grease, and little kid sweat) it's cheap, there are plenty of other kids to entertain your kid for you, and you don't have to follow them around awkwardly trying to prevent them from falling....but that's a whole other blog post.


This virus that Ava had was just horrific. 4 days of pure hell for my child.
The very first thing I learned when I woke up that night to find vomit covering Ava and her bed is that only an ever doting mother could calm and clean their little one, put them back to a fresh bed, and then do it all over again 30 minutes later with a smile on her face. After the second time I realized I was NOT going to be getting sleep. Reminded me of some of the blurry and drunken nights in college that involved holding someones hair and telling them between their hysteric sobs that everything would be okay; this time, though, instead of Black Eyed Peas it was Veggie Tales in the background.

Over the next 36 hours I found myself cleaning various fluids from different parts of the house....carpet, couch, kitchen.... but surely enough she started to seem okay. Well Kenny and I had been invited to a free couples retreat with childcare and everything! We figured "f%*k it!" and went. Everything went okay enough until breakfast the next morning. Kenny had taken Ava out of the banquet hall because she became a bit fussy...about 5 minutes later some old woman is asking for me to come in the hallway. When I got to her she starts hurrying me towards our room and tells me that Ava was having a seizure. Did I freak out? uh, yea! I mean wouldn't you?
When we got to Kenny and Ava it was like walking into the first 5 minutes of the show House, you know where they have a dramatic scene of something medically effed up happening to some unsuspecting soul.... he was on the phone, two or maybe three cleaning ladies were standing near by whispering, another woman was checking for Ava's pulse and the whole time she was just lying there...so peacefully you would of thought she was simply taking a little nap. Lesson number two? Do not panic. You don't have time to panic. So naturally I called my mommy real quick.Within minutes the paramedics were carrying Ava out in their arms like she was a wounded puppy and we clambered into the ambulance.

Now is it just me or does anyone else ever get the urge to punch a nurse in the mouth? mmm, maybe it's just me but it tends to happen when they cheerfully let you know they will be restraining your terrified toddler so they may try and get an IV. I can think of nothing less fun than holding your kid still while strangers are sticking them over and over again. Lesson three... allow yourself 5 minutes of mental break down. Thankfully this is where Kenny stepped in and I stepped out. I couldn't watch anymore after they failed the first time and said they needed to do it again on the other arm.  Before I get a bunch of hate about this bit, let me just say that I know it is their job, I know that no one wants to purposefully put a child through pain but it's like anything else... just because it is someone's job to serve you with lawsuit papers doesn't mean you are excited about the happy demeanor in which they do so. Or the sales clerk who smiles at you as they let you know you have been declined for a store credit card. These people who are lightheartedly doing their jobs while you are going through an embarrassing, terrifying, or angering situation most absolutely bring on the urge to punch in the mouth.

Eventually things evened out and their explanation for what happened was that it was a mere virus, gave us a pamphlet, then sent us on our way. A fairly anticlimactic end to an emotional day. Lesson four: doctors will NEVER give us the answers we want.
Ava stayed sick the rest of that day as well as the next. I ended up with a minor version of what she had, mostly fever with crazy bad migraine and guess who didn't give two shits? My kids. Final lesson, there is no such thing as "sick days" in motherhood.