Tuesday, June 12, 2007

I'd Rather Have a Leaky Cauldron

I know the definition of irony. Really, I do. But I wrote that "typical day" thing yesterday, and, as I was sitting up at 3 am this morning I thought, "You know, that day happens like, once a week,"

And it's true. More days than I care to keep track of are like today:

12:30 am, 1:00 am, 1:30 am, 2:30 am: Thomas wakes up coughing.
Not a big deal - he's got this ridiculously persistent cold, but it's nothing out of the ordinary for a little guy who skipped a lot of the normal childhood illnesses during his first year.

Except, because of his having had the trach for so long, he isn't so good at coughing. So I sit up, listening to him wake up gagging a bit and hollering. I race in to the rescue, mentally reviewing the new child CPR techniques, and find him fumbling for his pacifier. Pop. In it goes, and he's out again.

3:30 am: I wake up with the fever he has given me. I try to remember why I had wanted children.

8 am: "'Cott! 'Cott!" I stumble into his room, having decided to stay home from work. When Thomas sees me, his whole face lights up. "Hiiiiiiiiiii-iyyyyy!!!" he says, happily surprised. I love kids.

8:15 am: I notice a leak in the faucet while preparing T's morning bottle. It doesn't seem that bad. I report it to the Minister of Leaky Faucets.

8:20 am: Scott discerns that the leak has flooded the cabinet below the sink and that we need to replace the faucet and the immediately-connected plumbing ... parts ....or ...whatever.

...and that's how my typical day of work turned into a day off and then immediately into a day of keeping Thomas out of the kitchen while Dada replaced the faucet.

Similarly, Scott had already spent all Monday at the hospital getting x-rays for an on-again-off-again surgery plan to check Thomas's ears and bronchial tubes, post-trach. He got all the way home after lunch and they called him back for a second round of x-rays and discussions.

We sat around tonight in our messy house and asked ourselves why two people couldn't get dinner on the table and the house cleaned up on a regular basis. Well, Scott asked this while I sucked on my asthma treatment and Thomas practiced throwing every single block out of the block box and under the tv cabinet.

I don't remember what we said, but we both laughed.

Read more!


At 1:22 AM, Blogger Ctelblog said...

How I recognise that day. Cleaning the house always feels such a big achievement. I only manage to clean ours when the wife takes the boy to the market on a Sunday morning. No point in trying to oover when the boy's around. He hates the noise and will choke and cough until he needs suctioning and won't stop until it's turned off. Was looking at our filthy windows this morning trying to decide whether (a) they were disgusting and needed a clean; or (b) they filter out some of the sunlight and are therefore a positive strategy to protect his light-sensitive eyes. Since I had to leave for work, I voted for option (b).

At 1:58 PM, Blogger Lizard said...

That cracks me up that he yells Scott's name. Kids are smart and efficient.

At 9:11 PM, Blogger FunkyMonkeyJunk said...

LOVE that he calls him Cott! LOL!


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