Last week we had a sick baby. Poor guy was not too happy Tuesday. He did well on Wednesday with the help of some Tylenol, but we went on in to the doctor on Thursday and found out he had an ear infection. We got an antibiotic. I'm not crazy about going that route, but the poor guy is so little and I felt bad for him. Well, I shouldn't have felt bad. I couldn't figure out how to get the stupid medicine in him. We tried a dropper (about 25% effective), a syringe (0% effective), and mixing it with breast milk in a bottle (50% effective). So by Saturday night I was done. We tried with a bottle on Sunday morning since that method had actually worked once, and he completely refused it. At that point I figured the antibiotic was pretty useless anyway. And Silas was doing great. So we moved on.
Up until this week, I was about 4 or 5 days ahead of Silas in terms of stored breast milk in the fridge. It was nice to have a buffer and every once in a while I would freeze some so I didn't have an overabundance in the fridge. Last Tuesday I pumped once at work before I got the phone call that baby was sick. I ended up home the rest of the week and then we had a three day weekend. So by this Tuesday I had moved a lot of the milk from the fridge into the freezer and all I had left was the 4 ounce bottle from the previous Tuesday. So I'm slowly catching back up again this week. He's had plenty to drink each day between what I had in the fridge, taking out a frozen bag from four months ago, and pumping each day. My pumping sessions basically get me just enough for him for the next day, but sometimes I'm a little short. This is why I really liked having that buffer. Tuesday I pumped 7 ounces; he normally eats around 8 ounces during the time he's at day care. By some miracle I managed to get about 9 ounces on Wednesday. So now I have a tiny bit extra. Maybe I can build up that buffer again.
I will say too, I was actually wondering if I really needed this buffer and if I was ever going to use all the milk I keep freezing. (One day I need to go through all the frozen stuff and see how much I have, I'm very curious!) I learned this week that this is why I need that buffer and why I have all this frozen milk. It will get used. Eventually.
My Cursillo small group has gotten back together again! It has been over a year since we last met, maybe longer. It was so nice to get together again, share what we've been doing, how we're growing closer to Christ, and to pray together. We're now meeting once a month, early on a Saturday morning so as to not interfere with the day too much (translation: not leave the kids with the husbands for too long), and I think this is going to work out great. Very much looking forward to this continuing!
Saturday (after my Cursillo group met) we packed up the kids and headed up 75 to the Cincinnati Zoo. We had last been there in October, so the boys are a bit older now and seem much more interested. Plus, I was 7 months pregnant then, so I was kind of tired on that trip and moving slowly. This was a perfect time to go. The boys had a great time (they got to ride the train!!) and they loved the animals. I also got to wear Silas in the ring sling and he fell asleep while he was in it. He is so cute when he falls asleep in the sling. He has the most contented look on his face. I love it so much!!
While at the zoo we were heading up a ramp towards the area where the giraffes are and we passed a family on their way down. I really didn't notice them too much because I was pushing the stroller, had Silas in the sling on me, and was trying to keep Ethan from running into someone (he was holding a handle attached to the stroller, which I think makes him feel secure enough that he doesn't think he needs to look forward, so he's often walking way off to the side as far as the handle's cord will stretch and looking off at things to the side or behind us; thus, I spend a lot of time with my hand on his head guiding him forward and keeping him from running into other people or other things). Hubby was just ahead of us with Peter and the wagon, but close enough that it was obvious that we were all together (each of us with a toddler that look identical to each other probably gave it away too). Anyway, this family passes us, but like I said, I didn't notice them too much (I mean, come on, it's the zoo on a Saturday, there are a lot of people around). But I looked up when this girl said something obviously directed at us. She couldn't have been more than 11 or 12 years old, but she distinctly made a comment in our direction about the number of children we had. Her exact words:
"Three kids?! What a pain!"
Seriously? It's only three. Even the family behind us heard and the woman behind me commented on how rude the girl's comment was. I was just speechless! But it really made me wonder about this girl's parents. What in the world are they saying in front of their child that an 11 or 12 year old girl is commenting on someone's "large" family? Or that an 11 or 12 year old girl even has it in her head that three kids is too many? For Pete's sake, it's only three kids! I know so many people with way more than three!
I think that was my first encounter with a rude "too many children" comment. I just never expected it to come from someone so young. How sad.
A Catholic moms group I'm in often has a "Toddlers in the Pew" thread on Sundays. We certainly have our share of adventures there, but this past Sunday it was the 5 month old who showed everyone up. It was during Communion, we had already received and gotten back to the pew, had knelt to pray; Silas was a little antsy so I sat back on the edge of the pew with him just to change position a little bit. Then I heard a familiar noise and quickly moved my hand off his bottom. I've been there too many times: he poops, my hand is right there, the poop goes right up his back. Only this time it did not go up his back. It somehow managed to go out his legs ... and then got on my shirt ... my pants ... and, yes, even my shoes. *Big heavy sigh.* Very quickly I put him in his car seat, grabbed the diaper bag and my purse and left immediately. I mumbled something quickly to Hubby as I rushed out, leaving him with both of the boys.
So I head out of the church, trying not to knock over people waiting in the communion lines as I try to get out as quickly as possible. I head toward the hallway down which the bathrooms are located and where I know there is a real changing table, not just one of those pull down things, and I pull on the door and it doesn't budge. It tried a few more times and nothing. How could the door be locked!! I was mortified!
Now, let me pause here and say this. I have never known this door to be locked, particular when there are lots of people in the building. Several hours after this event happened, I was thinking about it and, in the heat of the moment, I realize I wasn't thinking clearly. I distinctly remember looking between the doors and did not see the deadbolt between them. And yet I couldn't open the door. Why? It's possible the door should have been pushed and not pulled. Once again: *Big heavy sigh.*
But since at the time I thought the door was locked, I panicked, momentarily. Then I realized that the nursery was across the hall and I knew they would have a changing table. Plus really nice volunteers, mostly all moms themselves, who would take pity on me. Until I got Silas on the changing table, I didn't realize the extent of the mess. Ick! It was bad.
On top of all that, by the time I had us cleaned up (as much as I could anyway), Mass was over and I wasn't seeing the rest of my family leaving the church. So I hauled Silas back in to find Hubby still in the pew. I was a bit annoyed at first until I realized that he stayed there because there was also poop on the kneeler and the floor.
Yep, it was bad.
Finally, this is birthday season around here! Wednesday was Hubby's 43rd birthday. Happy Birthday, Honey! And today is the boys 3rd birthday! Can you believe they are already 3 years old? We're having a small party (not even really a party, but that's what we're calling it) on Saturday with just us and both sets of grandparents. This is such a fun age for birthdays! It's the first time they really understand it. As much as a 3 year old can understand these things. It should be fun and I promise to take some pictures. We're having a purple and yellow themed birthday party for them. I can explain why later.
Have a great weekend and check out Jen's 7 Quick Takes over at Conversion Diary. Thanks for hosting, Jen!!