I Can Write a Book

by kim on January 12, 2015 · 1 comment

in parenthood

toddler silence

Kids, amirite?

Since the girls started daycare this fall, we have been exposed to a myriad of viruses and bacteria. Pink eye, sinus infections, ear infections (aplenty), hand foot and mouth, and, or course, the stomach flu. When I heard that Ellie threw up at my mom’s house I felt horrible for her. It must have been so confusing…it’s confusing enough for adults who know full well what is happening. Can you imagine not having any control over your body and that happening?

Most of these things trickle back to The Mister and me in their own way. We’ve been sick pretty much this whole fall/winter. The stomach flu hit us hard on Friday. I haven’t thrown up since I was pregnant. Despite having IBS and GERD, my ability to keep food down regularly is pretty impressive. So when I rushed from the living room to the bathroom to…relieve myself…I was not only sick but irritated that my non-vomiting streak was over.

When I emerged from the bathroom, the girls were rifling through my purse. There were papers everywhere. And when Emma turned around, I saw a hint of blue on her dark pink shirt. It took me a minute to piece it together.

I had Brooklyn’s Xanax in my purse and those bright blue pills proved to be too tempting for a toddler to ignore.

Now, this sent me into overdrive despite being ridiculously sick. I called for The Mister who was home sick in the other room. We rushed and got dressed. I called poison control. They alerted the ER. We drove there. I didn’t know if it was just Emma or if Ellie had any. Poison control told us there would be a monitoring period at the hospital.

It became pretty clear fairly quickly that Emma had taken the medication and probably most or all of it. She started acting all wobbly and out of it. She started throwing out phrases like the drunk girl you knew in college who couldn’t stop chattering when she was drunk about anything and everything (you know, ME)…

spanish for goose





Ellie, on the other hand, had her normal dose of skepticism and when I put them in a big wheelchair to wheel them in while The Mister parked, she started crying and didn’t stop until they were done taking her vitals.

As we started the monitoring period, the attending pediatrician came around and looked at The Mister.

“Are you okay, sir?”

We explained that we had the stomach flu.

“I think you need to go to the adult section yourself,” he told The Mister. “You don’t look good.”

Sure enough, he was massively dehydrated. Having diabetes, being dehydrated is a double-whammy. So I was stuck with Drunk Toddler and Skeptical Ellie, both of whom were getting restless. Thankfully, my mom came and helped. When she got there, I had the pleasure of acquainting myself with the pediatric ER bathroom facilities…over and over again.


Four hours in a curtained-off ER stall with two toddlers and your mother while having the stomach flu is a Jared Subway commercial and Tal Bachman song away from the seventh level of hell.

As we neared the end of our four hour observation period, Emma demanded to get down on the floor. But when she would try to walk, she’d fall over. Thankfully, being Drunk Toddler led her to just get back up and go “HA! Whoops!” Not so thankfully, the doctors insisted that she would have to stay overnight. The meds hadn’t left her system yet.

It was clear that of the five milligrams of Xanax available, she took all five.

Do you know how much that is? Many normal adult doses are about half a milligram. Brooklyn’s is one milligram…and she’s crazy. I took three milligrams once and lost memory of most of an afternoon. It’s that strong.

The Mister stayed with Emma until bedtime. I took Ellie home and got her settled. She seemed pretty content. When my dad was off of work, I went with him to the hospital and I relieved Garrett who came home.

That’s when the real fun began.

were here to fuck shit up

Have you ever seen a hospital crib for a sick kid? It looks like a medieval torture dungeon. Someone had cleverly put stickers on the inside trying to trick an unsuspecting toddler to get in there, but Emma wasn’t falling for that nonsense when it came to bedtime. I don’t blame her. I felt like shit and just wanted her to sleep, but I was actually happy she was alert enough to be pissed about that.


So I decided to let her try to sleep with me on the pullout less-than-twin-size bed-foldout-chair they had in the room.


Have you slept with a toddler before? Let me explain it to you. It’s like sleeping with a fish that is constantly struggling for air and yet is able to talk and question EVERY.SINGLE.THING.YOU.DO.OR.SAY. She didn’t want to lay down. She wanted Dada. She wanted Brooklyn. She wanted Ellie. She called for Ellie over and over. It was sad as hell, actually. I had to tell her that Ellie was at home sleeping and we’d see her in the morning. All that did was cause her to say “Ellie?!?!?! Ellie sleeping.” Over and over and over. Then she decided to list every person she could remember. “Mama. Dada. Ellie. Brooklyn. Gigi. Grandpa. Amy. Unkandy [Uncle Andy]. Spencer. Lucy.” and so on.

stop talking crazy

At one point, she demanded to see the Chica Show…a kids show on the Sprout channel. When i couldn’t find that she wanted Caillou. When that was boring she wanted Thomas and Friends. That’s when I realized the battery charger I brought for my phone wasn’t working. And I had 30% battery left.


Sleep was so necessary. It was 10:30. Her normal bedtime is no later than 8. She didn’t really have a nap. She was hungover.

Getting her to lay down was impossible. We ended up half-sharing and me half-hanging off the bed. She was hooked up to wires to monitor her and had an IV in so every time she moved she’d get stuck and yell “STUCK!”

crying into pillow

Finally, around 11:30, she fell asleep.

The nurse came in to take her vitals at midnight but noticed she was asleep and said she’d wait until 4 am. She knew how bad it was.

At 3:00 am we got a roommate. I prayed to all available ddeitiesthat she wouldn’t wake up. She didn’t.

thank you

Until 3:55 am. That’s when a cough turned into her vomiting up green slime everywhere. I narrowly escaped with her Animal (the Muppet) and bunny rabbit. The nurse came in. So did the doctor. It took us a minute to realize the green was because The Mister had given her some Fruit Loops. We were worried at first, but Fruit Loops do tend to meld together to that green-gray color.


Meanwhile, the roommate’s mother left her TV on all night. ALL.NIGHT.


Around 5 am she fell asleep again. Until about 7:20. Thankfully they wanted to discharge us quickly as everyone else there had the plague and we weren’t infectious. And despite the first rush of endorphins that hit you after a night of barely any sleep, we were working on about an ounce of gas in the tank.

tape eyes open

We got home around 11 am. We were exhausted. Beyond exhausted. Naptime could not come soon enough.

I’ve had multiple people tell me I should write a book. Clearly these things are constitutive of my life. These aren’t things that happen to me. They happen because of me. I never leave my purse out, but the one time I do is the time I have to throw up for the first time in over two years. And the drama that has ensued has made me pay for it in spades.

I can write a book. Sure. Right after I get some sleep and some vomit-free clothing.

Does anyone know how to get vomit out of Frozen fuzzy slippers? Asking for a friend.

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All These Little Drafts

by kim on January 8, 2015 · 1 comment

in blogging

This fall kicked my ass front, back and sideways. I knew it was coming. I braced for it. I bore down and took nothing for granted. And, in the end, it was still as frustrating as I thought it would be. That’s not to say it was all bad. But it is to say that some things suffered. Like this space.

dog losing to slide

I never thought I’d see the day when I didn’t have multiple blog posts in a week. Now I’m posting once a month. That just won’t do. This space is, at the very least, a compilation of all of my hopes and dreams about the world…and all of the infuriating things that come along with trying to figure those out.

Plus….the GIFs. I’ve been saving them. Waiting to unleash them. In hiding. In hibernation.

much needed sarcasm

I have saved drafts. I have snippets of titles. I have scrawls on pieces of paper. Yet nothing has made it here.

It’s 2015.

I’m going to blog more in 2015.

That’s the long and short of it.

I have so many things to talk about. Podcasts(Serial, anyone?). Kids (snot, anyone?). My refound love of Bob’s Burgers. The way different people deal with grief. The last two classes of my PhD (exhausted, anyone?). So damn much…so little time.

But I’ll be here. I’m making a commitment. I’ll make the time.

I just hope there are still people out there listening.

tomorrow is another day

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