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February 17, 2002
Okay, I’m failing at my twice-monthly diary-writing goal mostly because my life was (is?) spinning out of control. There’s a chance I’ll regain my balance someday. I’m retaining hope.
BIRTHDAY BASH AND INVASION OF THE TOYS
The twinners turned two on Christmas. We hosted a chaotic birthday party at The Little Gym, which Tommy loved and Jakey despised. Tommy mugged for the video camera and shouted “Cheese!” while Jake did his best to crawl into my lap never to emerge. If shooed from my lap, Jake immediately cleaved himself to my leg.
But both boys were thrilled with all of their toys. I, on the other hand, stared at the mound of Xmas AND birthday presents in horror. Quite a forbidding mountain. I briefly considered printing a Toys-R-US banner, pasting it to my front door and opening the house up for business. Instead I put the twins down for a nap, farmed 5-year-old Max out to a friend’s house and executed a surgical toy-removal strike. Any toy broken, with missing pieces or untouched in the last three months hit the garbage can with a satisfying crunch.
I almost got a hernia dragging the can swiftly to the curb before spotted by any of my kids, but I knew NOT to throw away toys in the house. Max had once tossed a candy wrapper onto his most ear-splitting Thomas the Train engine, which I’d recently thrown away in favor of retaining my hearing. Max dug out the train and starred at me with horror-struck baby blues saying, “Mommy, WHO could have thrown THIS away?” I was the only adult present, but still I looked behind me before shrugging in sympathy and placing the train back into the toy room (sigh!). Worse, I didn’t dare to throw it away again, and it’s still there.
HIGH-HO, HIGH-HO IT”S HOME FROM THE HOSPITAL WE GO!
After nursing cold-infested (extra-whiny!) kiddos for a week I was ready to run from the house shrieking, “Help! I’m stuck in here and I can’t get out.” Little did I know things were about to get worse.
Jake started wheezing one night and looked lethargic by morning so I hit the doctor’s office early. The doctor listened to his chest, got that ultra-scary “there’s bad news coming” crease in his forehead and told me Jake was in for a hospital visit. Gulp! I called my lifesaver friend, Shawn, to come get Tommy, trying not to sob in fear, and rushed Jake to Primary Children’s Hospital. The hospital’s beds were all full but my doctor cleared Jake to be seen in the ER immediately, and then admitted when a bed became available.
Meanwhile, Jake was wheezing even worse, gasping and looking very, very pale. That was when the ER admitting doctor made the mistake of telling me there was a FIVE HOUR wait to be seen. Excuse me? Hadn’t I just explained to him that my child couldn’t BREATHE? I threw a fit that would have made Eddy Murphy proud, and was in an exam room with Jake a mere minute later. The new doctor listened to his chest and immediately ordered oxygen and an IV. I gulped, thinking Jake the Earthquake would have a ground-shaking fit at oxygen prongs up his nose and a needle in his arm, but sadly he was too sick to care.
That’s when I really got scared.
He was soon admitted, and I spent the night not sleeping on the vinyl pull-out couch next to him, my heart rate skyrocketing every time his oxygen monitor beeped. It was awful He was connected to three machines.
Jake slept some, but in between he sadly kept up this non-stop mantra: “Bye-bye! Ought-oh! Out!” By the 3,000th time I have to admit it was getting old. I tried to explain to Jake why he was there, but he was too young to understand. It must have been horrifying for him--whisked from home to a scary place to be hooked up to machines and prodded by strangers every two hours. Poor little dude!
Luckily, Lars showed up to spend the next night with Jake and let me go home, change my clothes and shower. I’m scarred to think what I smelled like because I was spending plenty of time sweating with worry. Anyway, I returned to the hospital in the morning to more of the same and my mom, bless her, slept with Jake the next night.
Jake was in for a total of five nerve-wracking days and his diagnosis was RSV and pneumonia. On the last day, after the doctor’s okay, I asked Jake if he was ready to go home. He smiled for the first time in five days and piped, “Go bye-bye. Yay!”
OLYMPIC EXCITEMENT
I was lucky enough to attend the spectacular Olympic opening ceremony. For a taste of first-hand Olympic excitement read my article: “Oh What A Night! Attending he Olympic Opening Ceremony”: http://iparenting.com/resources/articles/olympics.htm
VIVA LAS VEGAS II
We decided to take a break from the Olympic stampede and head for Las Vegas to leave the snow behind and bask in the sun. I searched the net and booked inexpensive rooms at the Excalibur hotel. I knew the boys would love staying in castle. And they did! The drive wasn’t unbearable either, thanks to the portable TV/VCR that I bought for the car. I closely regulate TV time and the boys were thrilled at this illicit viewing freedom.
Yes, Mr. Earthquake was quite spoiled from my indulging his every whim in the hospital and was throwing quite the tantrum-a-thon when we crossed him. But I brought 13-year-old Laurel and Ashley along as nannies, and they were masters at distracting him. As a bonus, by some miracle, Tommy was all smiles the entire trip.
Max fell in love with the Luxor hotel, which looks like an Egyptian pyramid. He was mesmerized by Egyptian artifacts and hieroglyphics. I took him to the Luxor’s IMAX film on Egypt, which I worried might put most 5-year-olds to sleep, but he sat forward in his seat and didn’t blink. Max now wants to study archeology and he told everyone from the hotel bellman to restaurant servers. They’d chuckle at the big word “archeology” from such a small mouth. One man looked at Max like, yeah, right, and he asked him what archeology meant. Max astonished him with a detailed definition.
The Excalibur had a train to other hotels, and I juggled demands to ride the train ("Choo- Choo!") with demands to visit the Luxor (again!). Luckily Laurel and Ashley were flexible and didn’t mind accompanying us wherever. In deep gratitude I sent them to see the Blue Man Show, which they loved. Those girls are my lifesavers.
Despite Max’s newfound obsession with archeology, he said his favorite part of the trip was a luncheon visit with his Great-Grandma Wanda. When that child isn’t arguing with me (rare) he’s a charmer. The twinners loved the choo-choo and as for me, I simply enjoyed thawing out for five days and making the most of our fun in the sun.
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