Bird on the Street

Day Eight (of Twenty-Eight)

2:20 pm

What She Wore: Pink sweat pants; red t-shirt. We’re working on the house today, so I’m in my grubbies.

So many nice people commented on Charlie’s bottle strike that I thought I should give an update.

We called the on-call neuro, and he said that if he’s taking solids than it probably isn’t related to the medicine. Instead, it’s more likely a developmental situation. He instructed us to mix his solids with lots of liquid and bring him to the ER if he shows signs of dehydration or a severe digestive problem (like black or bloody stool).

So, we’ve been eating tons of solid food, and it’s a big hit! Chicken noodle actually gained smiles. We resorted to just squirting some medicine/formula down his throat and he swallows that just fine. I guess it’s sucking he’s opposed. As is usually the case with Charlie, he tell us what he wants and when he wants it.

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Day Seven (of Twenty-Eight)

5:07 pm

What She Wore: jeans; tennis shoes; gray LSU hoodie.

Well, we’ve survived exactly one week of house arrest. We do really exciting things like cruise the neighborhood in our stroller (no germy people around), ride in the car with no destination, kick our play mat, and tummy time. This is the life.

I’m kidding, but I haven’t gone nuts yet, and that’s a good sign.

Meanwhile, the strike continues. We are just B-A-R-E-L-Y getting enough liquids, so I did what any good mom with too much time on her hands and Internet access does–I googled Charlie’s new medicine. One of the side-effects? Upset stomach. He’s been really burpy (I’m not sure that’s a word) too, so I’ve put in a call and maybe we’ll be getting some zantac or something. While I wait, we’ve been experimenting with various cups.

I’ve taken to just squirting his medicine in his mouth. He doesn’t really mind the taste–the pharmacy makes everything for kids taste like sugar and cherries. Not my favorite flavor, but way better than the actual taste.

Enjoy the weekend.

PS: After spell-checking this thing, I find that I like taking real words and tacking “y” or “ie” on the end to create made-up words. According to google, “burpy,” “hoodie,” and “germy” aren’t words. You know what I meant, right?

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Day Six (of Twenty-Eight)

4:38 pm

What She Wore: red pajama pants; light blue t-shirt; socks. I’m not going anywhere today and it’s freezing, so I didn’t bother changing this morning–classy, huh?

Charlie is on strike. He no longer wants anything to do with a bottle. Now, I’ve checked the internet and he’s not the first baby to do this, but it’s still a little unsettling. Four of his daily bottles are laced with medicine and right now we’re having trouble getting them all down. I may have to concoct a new devious plan to drug my child [insert devilish wink]. The OT says that we need to move quickly to the cup, so he still gets his liquids. She wasn’t too concerned, though, since his overall intake seems OK. I think the little prince just prefers having everything spoon fed. It’s a tough life.

On a totally different topic, Target has put these really awesome (I’m a child of the 80s) stool/ottoman/tables on sale. They come in black and white and they’re only thirty dollars. I can think of about a million places in my house where one of these babies could go. Now if only I could sneak out of the house for about an hour. . .