It's days like today that just make me want to crawl into a corner in a closet somewhere and cry.
Actually, I think it started yesterday.
Yesterday I dropped Griffin off at daycare at 7am, and didn't stop running until I picked him up at 6pm, 1/2 an hour late, after it took me THREE HOURS to drive home from the city (usually an 80 minute drive.)
When I called the daycare from the highway to let her know I was running late, she warned me that I was about to pick up a very unhappy boy, who had been trying all day to poop, without any luck. (Poop troubles have plagued us for nearly a year now, and we're still sorting it out.) When I got to Griffin, he also informed me that he had "yucky pee." It was the first the daycare lady had heard about it, but it was not the last that I was to hear about it all night.
It turns out that "yucky pee" means it hurts to pee. Around 7pm, I noticed that Griffin had spiked a fever, and by 9pm we were sitting on the potty, screaming bloody murder that he couldn't pee because it hurt too much. Excellent.
At the 2am screaming bloody murder on the potty fest, I had the foresight to collect a "sample," figuring that it looked pretty likely that we'd be heading to the doc in the near future.
After the 8am scream fest (with no pee this time) I decided it was time to head to emerg. I tidied the house and barricaded the dog in the master bedroom, because if a screaming kid and a husband 1/2 way across the world isn't enough, our house is still for sale and we had a showing booked for 12:30, which I didn't know if I'd make it back for.
We got to the hospital (after waiting for 15 minutes in line at Tim Hortons to get some breakfast) and I was told sample that I thought I was so smart to take was no good, as it hadn't been refrigerated, and we'd have to get another....because getting a urine sample from a 3 year old is easy!
Griffin was actually in a great mood, until he had to pee, at which time he started screaming bloody murder again. He actually peed while we were in the waiting room, so when they finally got us a room, I started feeding him cup after cup of juice, knowing that I'd likely be able to get a sample out of him eventually, but that I was also setting myself up for more screams and tears.
And when it happened again, it came with a vengeance. There was hitting, there was throwing, there was screaming, all because he wanted to pee in his diaper, not in the cup. I did manage to get a sample finally, but not without getting urine all over the floor, the bed, the kid and me.
Diagnosis? Bladder infection. VERY rare for boys, so now we're scheduled for an ultrasound Monday morning too (which compliments our Tuesday morning appointment at the Fracture Clinic (over an hour away from here) and my Thursday morning appointment for a 2 hour glucose test at the lab and additional blood draw at the hospital.) I MAY make it to work sometime next week, if I'm lucky.
We finally got home at 1:30pm. Remember that dress I finished last week? Yeah, well it was a wedding dress for a friend. The wedding is today, and we were supposed to go. Except when we got home at 1:30, unshowered, unfed, and seriously feeling like I was going to fall over, the though of getting myself and the kid all gussied up, driving an hour in the pouring rain to be close to an hour late for a wedding where I didn't know anyone aside from the bride and groom was just too much.
Instead I made a vat of mac and cheese. Lit about a dozen candles. I still feel like I'm going to fall over, but at least when I do I'll be in my jogging pants and in my own home, and not in a dress and high heels surrounded by strangers.
I feel beaten by the day. I feel bad that I couldn't muster up the energy to get to this wedding. I feel worse, because I haven't been feeding my kid all his "poop medicine," because all I can do when I get home is throw together dinner for him and I, and then fall asleep when I put him to bed at 8pm...I feel lucky if I remember to feed the dog. Its possible that this bladder infection was caused by an excess build up of stool, pushing on his kidneys, so essentially, it's all my fault. Move over all you other Mothers of the Year, and make room for ME!
I'm going to go crawl into that corner now, except I think I'll make myself some hot chocolate to take with me. And then I'm going to try to stop feeling sorry for myself, and realize that there are WAY more people out there that have a lot worse things going for them than I do. And then I may try to find one or two of them, and see if they want a hot chocolate too.
Thanks for listening.