Front-Facing Car Puke

This post should have been able to focus on a huge milestone--Munch, at 2 years old, is now front-facing in his carseat! Hubs and I have been so excited for this change, yet another step in growing up. No longer is Munch crunched against the back of the seat, his long legs folded over, with only himself in his monkey mirror to look at.

But. The first front-facing car ride was more exciting than Hubs and I ever could have dreamed.

Hubs heroically turned the seat around in under an hour, having to resort to an online reference video only once. Because the weather was finally nice, and to give Munch a treat, we decided to drive up to Wegmans, about a half hour away, instead of going to our normal grocery store just down the street.

At first, everything went as I envisioned: I kept turning around to say hi to Munch, he kept giving me his little "I can't believe I'm doing this" side-eye smile in return. About halfway through the trip, though, Munch's demeanor changed. He didn't smile in response. He hardly made eye contact. I told Hubs, "He's out of it." And I thought he was going to fall asleep.

We got to Wegmans and parked. Hubs and I turned around and I started to tell Munch about this great grocery store when ....

The child puked.

Horrible, wrenching heaves that wouldn't stop for quite some time.

I won't go into more detail. But believe me, it was bad. Puke. Everywhere.

I jumped out of the car and froze. The problem seemed so huge, I couldn't start to fix it. Hubs, bless his soul, went straight to the backseat and started extricating Munch, instructing me to get the extra outfit out of the diaper bag (thank God we still keep that thing kinda stocked!). Then I ran in to Wegmans (we're at a grocery store, self! they sell everything you could need) and got wet paper towels.

I changed poor, shaking Munch while Hubs, again heroically, started scrubbing out the car as best he could.

The biggest question (besides how we were going to make it home in such a disgusting car) was why the puke.

• First thought--car sick. Could it be a coincidence that on Munch's first front-facing ride, he threw up? Although, he's never showed any propensity for motion sickness, either in the car, as Daddy twirls him all over in their dancing and rough-housing, or on the Dumbo ride at Disney.
• Second thought--his medicine. Munch is on a very high dose of antibiotic to try to get rid of this lingering ear infection. 
• Third thought--bug. A stomach bug that could ravage the rest of us? Joy.

His doctor said that any one of these could be the problem. After he got home with no puking incident (of course, nothing was left in his stomach, but), she recommended that we give him his evening dose of medicine and see what happened.

What happened was, he puked in bed at 12:30am. Commence heroic Daddy again, cleaning up the sheets and starting to wash every lovie in Munch's crib. This time, though, Mommy didn't freeze and I washed poor again shaking Munch in the bath and then cuddled the poor thing to sleep.

So, not carsick. But, still could have been medicine. Or, could have been bug. We skipped 2 days of medicine and didn't give Munch any dairy on Sunday. We had no further puke incidents. Hubs and I both felt a bit off, but neither of us had incidents either.

So, the question of bug or medicine remains. And, he's back on the medicine and we're going on a car trip this weekend, so we should find that out in a few days.

Not fun, but yet another parental milestone dealt with--the dreaded car puke. We survived. And the car is being detailed as we speak.

Ear Infections Can Suck It

Waaaay back in January 2012, Munch got ear tubes when he was 9 months old. Though he was young, it was the absolute right decision; he'd endured infection after infection for months, really since he started getting the ever-present colds that accompany day care enrollment.

After the procedure, which was an incredibly stressful experience, Munch going under anethesia for the first time, his ear infections went away. He no longer needed to be on antibiotics pretty much every couple weeks. His speech blossomed. His tubes fell out last summer and September and I waited with bated breath. He got his typical colds through the fall and winter; rarely did he need an antibiotic and never for an ear infection. Hubs and I thought we were out of the woods.

Unfortunately, the ear infections are back.

Munch started with a cold near the end of February. He got a fever that seemed unexplainable. I should have known then: both ears infected. I was pretty disappointed, but, figured, it was bound to happen once.

At his 2-year appointment, 2 weeks later, the infection wasn't cleared up. The doctor put him on a different, more powerful antibiotic.

Today, it turns out that both ears, but his left especially, are infected. Still.

I'm completely pissed. Now we have yet another antibiotic--this will be 6 weeks of about the last 7 that Munch has been on medicine. I'm left wondering WHY his ears aren't responding to the medicine. I HATE that he's surely in pain, uncomfortable. And, the prospect of a second set of tubes looms.

He comes by his ear infections genetically--I myself had two sets of tubes and I have slight hearing loss from my early years of constant infections. I know this isn't an end of the world type thing. But I just want him better. I want his nose to be clear, his eyes ungooped. Free of pain.

We'll see what the next 2 weeks bring. Munch is being his typical self--happy, sleeping pretty well, energetic. Besides a couple pokes at his ear, I wouldn't have known from observing him that his ears were infected. This is both a good and bad thing. He's a trooper, our little Munch.

18-Month Well Baby

Last night, Munch had his 18-month well baby visit--yes, my pediatrician has evening hours on Wednesdays. Love her!

Here are the stats:

Weight: 23.9 pounds, putting him nearer the 25th percentile than the 10th--yay!
Height: 32.75 inches--my tall boy!

He got two shots--pneumococcal and hep A--that he endured bravely and got two tiger-stripe Band-Aids for his trouble.

The only downside was he couldn't get the flu shot at the same time as the pneumococcal--so we go back in November, and Hubs and I will be able to get them from Dr. H as well.

Our appointment was at 7, but we didn't end up seeing her until closer to 7:30. Munch walked happily around the exam room, eating some banana and fish, exploring until about 7:20. Then he was done. It was incredibly hot in there, and he got pretty tired in a snap. So, he cried for most of the appointment, unfortunately.

Dr. H says all looks good--his ears look normal, now that they're tubeless, so fingers crossed for a good fall/winter for ears.

We talked to her about what we see as his slightly lagging speech development. She's not concerned, as he's definitely verbalizing, he says his version of a few words (ca, do, bbbb--I'll let you figure out what each of those are) and he obviously understands what we're saying. (I believe this child understands exactly everything. I say, want to take off your shoes? Touches them immediately. Want milk? Goes to the refrigerator. He knows.)

So, as with his walking, he's taking his own sweet time, practicing his long, babbly sentences, and one day, I'm sure, he'll look at me and say, "Mother, please turn on Disney Junior."

Okay, maybe, "Mama, up." I'd be satisfied.

Parental Panic

We've all been there: In that moment when something goes wrong with our children and our stomachs seize and our chests tighten and our minds go blank and then race: "Please let nothing be really wrong."

Luckily, knock on wood and all that, my moments of parental panic during these first nearly 18 months have been momentary and not truly panic-worthy. But don't they all feel like the world is crashing around us?

Last night, I had my most recent moment, and the most serious one since Munch was very little--when he had bronchialitis at 4 months old and he needed to be nebulized in the doctor's office; when he'd gotten a bruise in the middle of his tiny 5-month-old forehead when a day care buddy threw his bottle and hit Munch in the head.

Last night, at 11:45, Munch's cries rang out through the monitor. They sounded different, dry somehow. I went in to find him on his back, gasping with each intake of breath. He, it seemed, couldn't breathe. I cried out for my husband, rushing into our bedroom as Munch continued to try to cry silently and gasp on the inhale. My heart was pounding and my mouth dry, my own breath coming quickly. What will I do, I thought, if he just stops breathing? I felt sure, in my white-panic brain, that he was dying in my arms as I watched, and there was nothing I could do.

It wasn't like he had sucked a Trix into his throat as I did at 9 years old and couldn't breathe for a REASON. He had been asleep, soundly, and now he was struggling for breath. I saw fear on my husband's face and that more than anything terrified me.

And then, it was over. He had hardly even opened his eyes. It must have only been 30 seconds. And he was again sleeping soundly, breathing normally, chest rising and falling regularly, in my arms.

Munch slept. I cried. Hubs examined. I had him call our pediatrician, the first late-night phone call since before Munch  turned a year old, the first since before he was 9 months old. The verdict: Croup. Not serious. Common. Often don't know your kid has it. Yes, in fact, he has sounded hoarse when he cried the past few days.

Remedies: Keep him calm. (Um, so, running through the house yelling for my husband while my own heart races ISN'T the best way to help my son? Got it.) Nebulize him. Try a steam room (read: bathroom with hot shower) if he continues to have trouble. If all else fails: ER.

He was fine the rest of the night and chipper this morning. These moments of parental panic seem so silly when they're over and when you realize nothing big truly was at stake. Nothing tragic was imminent, nothing even really bad. The time I scooped peanut butter out of the jar with my finger, then gave Munch his pacifier with the same hand, only to realize I had PB under my nail (this was when Munch was about 6 months old and still hadn't tried PB). I stood over him and watched for anaphylactic shock to seize him.

Or, when he was even littler, 2 months little, when he was asleep in my arms and then started breathing in quick bursts, huh-huh, as if he'd been crying very hard . He did this for about 20 minutes; I had another night of watching him like a hawk. Our pediatrician told us that babies drive their parents crazy with their little breathing quirks and likely Munch was DREAMING that he'd been crying and his body was reacting as if he really had been.

I am calmer post-croup, but my doubts linger. "I hope this is croup. And not something more serious like, say, congestive heart failure." This is where my mind goes. Jumps pneumonia and straight to the ICU.

And now, I watch. And even though this was "nothing" (*hopefully* knock on wood and all that again) these moments remind us of what is at stake when we have these little people, with pumping hearts and firing synapses and lungs that need to fill every few seconds. Everything. Everything is at stake when you become a parent. And I'm better about the things that could lead to a panic moment than I was when he was born--for instance, he barrel-rolled off a hardwood step in our living room yesterday and I cuddled him, ran my hands over him, and set him off to play again.

But sometimes--sometimes, I am reminded. A breath away.

Back From M.I.A.

It has been a week. Not only was I too busy/stressed/preoccupied to followup on last week's goals, but I didn't even set official goals for this week OR do a weekend wrapup post.

Long and short: Munch's temp started to elevate on Sunday night and by Monday morning, it was a full-blown 102 fever. :-( He was so hot. I took him to the doctor, ignoring the "wait 5 days rule" because we are supposed to go away on Friday, and because he's been coughing and sniffling for a freaking month.

It appears he has a sinus infection like he did in April. It's like the cold lingers long enough to morph into something more. His fever was gone yesterday, but boy was it rough for a while. I was off work until about 1:30 on Monday, and when I left him with my MIL so I could get a little work done, he cried so hard and clung to my neck so desperately, that I sobbed my way out the door and cried all the way home. It was one of the worst times I've ever left him. It was heart-wrenching and devestating because I knew so clearly that all he wanted was ME to comfort him and I felt like I was abandoning him. It was terrible. I felt the dualing roles of mother and worker acutely.

Tuesday was better, still feverish, but playing, so he wasn't just wanting me to hold him. Tuesday night, however, was awful. For one thing, he took a nap later in the day than usual and so he wasn't tired until later. We tried at 9:30 and it was clearly not happening, so we gave it until 11 (before which he just played). He fell asleep, but within 5 minutes coughed himself awake and from then on it was screaming/writhing/crying/wanting to play/but wanting to sleep/horror until 1:30, when he finally fell fitfully to sleep after I sang "What Child Is This?" for 40 straight minutes.

We kept him home one more day yesterday, and he was tired and cranky, but by evening seemed to be turning the corner. I haven't heard anything from day care today, so I assume that means he's done well today. He hardly ate anything all week, but he did keep drinking lots of milk and water, so that's good.

Now we just have 7 more freaking days of the antibiotic, which entails a wrestling match, projectile spitting, coughing and choking, and much crying all around. I'll let you puzzle out who does what.

Tube Out



 DAVID N. DAVIS/
SCIENCE PHOTO LIBRARY



Hubs and I took Munch to the ENT for his regular followup and to see if his left ear needed any fluid to be suctioned.

In fact, the left tube was out! It was still in his ear, but done functioning. Dr. G said he had to remove it.

This flashed me back to when I was about 5 years old and having my second set of tubes checked. My pediatrician thought one looked ready to come out; he pulled; and I felt the most searing, excruciating pain I’ve ever felt in my entire life. I can still feel it to this day. Conclusion: Tube not ready to come out.

So I asked Dr. G to confirm that it really was ready, and he assured me that it was. He had me hold Munch’s head to my chest and Hubbaland held his legs so he wouldn’t flail. Munch started crying right away, before anything was done, from the oppression.

The tube came out without incident—it was tiny, a little black ball of black plastic. (My tube was at least a half-inch long. 20+ years changes a lot!) We kept it, what a keepsake. Dr. G also pulled out a ball of wax that had accumulated around the nonfunctioning tube. His ear was clear of fluid and looked good. Munch got a Hot Wheels sticker for his trouble.

It’s likely that at the next appointment in 3 months, the right tube will be ready to come out. Dr. G said only time will tell if Munch is in the 20% of kids who need another set of tubes. I thought these would be in his ears for at least a year, not a mere 5 months, so I am bracing for another set. But hoping for a matured Eustachian tube that can drain all on its own!

Well-Baby

I had the Munch to his 15 month appt yesterday morning. Highlights:

• Weight: 21.6 lbs, 10-25th percentile. I talked to her about his size. She is not concerned. His chart and growth curve look completely normal. She said some kids have to be small to counter the kids who are at the top of the chart.
• Height: 31.5 inches, 75th percentile. I think this was an accurate reading, as I watched it happen. He is a tall boy!
• Food: She said, and I quote, "Calories are calories." I shouldn't be worried about him eating pizza or poptarts at this point, and I should just be glad that he also seems to round it out with vegetables. With all the milk he's getting, it's good protein there.
• Lungs: Still hearing some squeaking. She said some kids just have reactive lung issues to viruses/colds, and Hubbaland and I should nebulize him once a day to the extent that we can. This is the issue I'm most concerned about.
• Ears: Right is good, left continues to have fluid. The tube still looks like it has crusty things on it, so we're going back on the drops for a week. She said he may have to go to the ENT for it to be suctioned, and he's due in July to have a routine checkup with them anyway.
• Got last DTAP until Kindergarten and last HIB ever!