Cold Medicine for Babies?

Status: Still stressed, but trying to "surf the chaos" as my friend Jen would say...

Okay, so the FDA is coming out and saying (officially) that children under age 2 shouldn't have any sort of cold medicine. I gave tons of cold medicines to my first three kids (granted this was 8 years ago) when they were babies. Apparently there are issues with overdosing and serious side effects.

Herein lies the problem: I'm supposed to just let my baby suffer?

The answer, is yes. Case in point: my eight-month old currently has the Cruds, or what I refer to "after" the cold. He is hacking up phlegm, and his nose is constantly stuffy and running. But he seems to be handling it just fine. Bottom line, all those cold medicines were made so the PARENTS could feel better, not the kids. Think about it--who wants to see their baby suffering with chest congestion or a stuffy nose? But in all reality, babies are quite adaptive and resilient (generally) and they just "deal with it." Plus there are other options. Saline drops for the nose, humidifiers, steam showers. Lots of things you can do to make baby more comfortable. Even elevating their heads (or in my case, having him sit up) helps.

I spoke with my pediatrician at length about this, and she said that most OTC cold remedies don't help babies, and some of them seemed to make symptoms worse. In fact, children under six should probably stay away from OTC cold medicines.

So I hate that my baby has a cold, but he's dealing with it just fine, and as long as I'm doing what I can to make him comfortable, that's the best thing for him.

So, I've been de-junking my back storage basement. I've been tearing up the cardboard boxes and converting to clear plastic tubs. Hubby built a TON of sturdy shelves back there for me, and I've got a ton of them lined up in rows so far. But the fun part is: it's sort of like Christmas again: I don't know what's in the box until I open it and then I have the Trip Down Memory Lane, or I am mortified because I've kept such and such this long, etc. etc. It's a blast!

The cobwebs, however, are not so much a blast. Ig.

Awesome Personal Trainer is coming tonight. We haven't seen her since Hawaii. I need to get back into the great routine I had going before then! I've lost 20 pounds, and I have a bit to go. But slow and sure. Sitting in a chair doing edits and writing are NOT helping my backside...

And it's STILL Cold...

Status: Freaked out. Stressed. Basically the norm...oh, and it's STILL freaking freezing!

Okay, so I LOVE my nifty little breakfast sandwich maker. It's like an over-sexed toaster. You stick the English muffins (crumpets to you anglophiles) in the toaster part, and a raw egg in the side holder, topped off with ham or a piece of bacon in the nifty holder above it, press a button, and three minutes later, voila--you have a breakfast sandwich! You just have to slap it all together and add a slice of cheese. Yummy. I think they sell them in bulk at Walmart right now. It's a "hot" item. Definitely a healthier alternative to the Egg McMuffin, which my kids LOVE. (I just don't love all the fat and grease and nastiness that's in those things.)

So, bravo Breakfast Sandwich Maker!

Got some pages edited yesterday. I'll change the status bar asap. I am trying to decide whether or not to add a key scene in. I cut it out to save on word count, but I've cut out other places, and it's my favorite scene in the ENTIRE novel, so I am trying to find a way to sneak it back in. I need to have my Trusty Reader give it a whirl and tell me if she thinks it fits the story.

Kids had a half day yesterday, I was bad and let Thing One babysit the baby so I could do things I wanted. But I needed the break. The baby is going through my favorite phase EVER: the "If-Mommy-Leaves-My-Line-of-Sight-I-Freak-Out-And-Cry" phase. Yep. My absolute favorite. So, if I don't have him right next to me (velcro baby anyone?) he is very very sad. Eight month olds! :-)

So, yes, I'm freaked out and stressed. I'll divulge at a later date. For now I need to focus on the de-junking of my house and the editing of my novel. It will keep me sane.

Or at least some semblance of it. When is a stay-home mom EVER truly sane??? ;-)

BRRRRRRRRR!!!

Status: Multi-tasking. Sitting at the computer blogging while alternately yelling at the kids to hurry up and get into their snow gear because the bus will be here ANY second. Oh, and keeping a baby with MASSIVE TOY ADD entertained. For my next act, I will juggle steaknives...

Didn't get any editing done on the ms yesterday, but spent a good two hours on research. I'm trying to figure out if one could feasibly hide a treasure in Buckland Abbey. Of course, it would be easier if I could just jump on a plane and VISIT Buckland Abbey to figure it out personally, but money, time and responsibilities are just in the way.

Bah. Anyway, I got away on a Paleography tangent because I can't read some of those Tudor-era documents. It doesn't help that they were written in sloppy script and everything was spelled phonetically. But DANG I thought "I" had bad handwriting!

ANYWAY, got the Perpetually Messy Guest Room fit for guests. Now it's sitting there pristine and perfect, and do we actually HAVE ANY GUESTS??? Heck no. I need to go dump something in it. I have to admit, the Guest room is GREAT as a catch-all.

It's freaking cold. The high yesterday was 19, and with windchill it was toodamncoldtomeasure. And it's going to get colder. This is where my heating bill climbs into Astronomical Amount territory.

Time to get going! I plan to give the research a rest and do edits today. I was reading a friend's ms yesterday and it got me in the mood to get going again!

:-)

Running Running Running

Status: About 1 Million MPH. Running!

I am ON a MISSION to get this house de-junked and organized. Maybe it's "new year" cleaning or "mid winter blahs" organizing, but I am throwing crap out by the landfill-full. Seriously.

I think the kids are done being "actively" sick, now they just have the CRUD that remains. You know, the kind where they cough up a lung and throwup. Hack hack cough. Niiiiice.

I got few pages edited this weekend, but I will definitely get a bunch this week. I want to be DONE! Only 75 pages to go! I can do it!

Now I have to go pick up all 72343 toys Thing Four has thrown down on the floor from his high chair. The Stinker.

Have a Happy Monday!

It's Friday??

Status: Kidnapped by aliens.

(Or at least it feels that way. Where did the week go?)

Hubby almost didn't make it home last night, he was on a straight flight from NYC to Milwaukee, and they got diverted JUST as they were trying to land, to Illinois, because the Milwaukee Airport got shut down due to snow. Poor Hubby had to endure SIX hours on an airplane, when he should have only had two and a half.

It was crazy weather. The sun was out, the skies were clear, and an hour later, it became cloudy, and we got two inches of snow, like THAT. Crazy.

I have to cart Thing Four to the dr. this morning. His cough has settled into his chest, and he has a fever. Okay. Seriously, didn't we just do this a few weeks ago? SHEESH!
The Dr. told me that the average kid gets about 15 colds a year. That's 200+ days of being sick! Gross.

Hubby scored some sweet Packers Playoff game tickets for tomorrow, but we can't go because we'd be leaving our sick kids with a sitter for about twelve hours. And what if something happened to them? We'd be stuck at Lambeau, a couple of hours away.
Nope, I would rather watch the game on the big screen from the comfort of my own home, and snuggle with the kiddos. That's what happens, the more kids you have, I guess. There are worse things.

Thing Four is watching The Wiggles as I type this. He's clappng his hands and giggling/coughing/snorting/choking. Poor thing. Hubby thinks the Wiggles are creepy. He doesn't get the whole "grown men performing for children" thing. The ones that creep me out are the "Doodlebops. I guess I'm more in awe of them. They wear about 3 inches of makeup, and jump around and never seem to break a sweat. The power of editing, I guess!

Okay, I am rambling. This post is more like a "stream of consciousness" post. I did get a bunch of pages edited last night before Hubby got home. I plan to finish this weekend, if I can. If not, then certainly by next week. Woo hoo!

Have a great weekend, everyone.

Craziness.

Status: Just Here. I've been staying up way too late.

I've been in a strange world lately. I've been editing a novel I haven't looked at for a couple of years, and I've been thrown back in to the world I created when I was in college. It's a neat place to visit. But it's also amazing to me what a pair of fresh eyes can do for a manuscript. I've been editing out uneccessary scenes, adding meat to my descriptions and dialogue, and getting a little "bold." Hubby is in NYC until tonight, so I've been up late every night editing, but I force myself to go to bed eventually.

February is going to be my "write a novel in a month" month. I am laying the groundwork, and figuring out the specifics, and then I'm just going to write. No editing, just writing. January was supposed to be the Writing Month, but I was so busy in December doing...stuff, it got shoved to the wayside. So January is my editing month, February is my writing month, and March is my submission month.

A good plan. We'll see what happens. At least I HAVE a plan!

I think my edits are coming along nicely. I am putting the action into a first-person present, (rather than past)tense. It's a style of writing I find very difficult to do, but it seems to work best for this story. It brings the reader into the action more. Well, so far, it brings ME into the action more!

You ever have one of those days where you have so much going on you just can't even begin to tell about it? Yeah, that's me today. So I guess I'll end here.

Sorry to be so cryptic, but I honestly don't know where to begin.

:-)

Snorkel Schmorkel...

Status: I'll give you one guess: I was up all night with the baby, who decided he wanted to "be awake" and moan all night. (He's got a stuffy nose). Sheesh.

So, one of my phobias is dark water. If I can't see what's in it, there is no way in HELL I'm getting into it. It creeps me out. Maybe I had too many run-ins with lake-bottom seaweed when I was younger or something, but I like SHALLOW, CLEAR water. You won't get me in anything else.

So, we're back in Hawaii (see previous post) after we've hiked and biked, it's time for "sail and snorkel." We were transported (a la sardines in the stinky van once more) to a wharf and when we saw our boat, I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. It was the grossest boat ever. Sort of like the nasty fishing boat Quint had in "JAWS." (another reason why I don't like swimming in the ocean.) And there were more people packed onto it than it should have held, I think. The two lady captains directed me to a bathroom on the bulk head which was the size of a shower stall (smaller actually), and looked like it had been underwater for a few millennia. (YUCK!) I changed into my tankini suit and sat next to my SIL, who had suited up before me.

After everyone had changed and complained about the nasty toilet room sufficiently, we set off. Now, I am not one to get seasick, so it was actually fun riding the choppy water to Kane`ohe Bay. I pictured it to be this clear pretty water in a pristine cove, with lots of pretty scenery.

NOT. Suddenly, in the MIDDLE OF THE FREAKING OCEAN, the boat stopped, and they announced that we were "here." First of all, we were in the MIDDLE OF THE OCEAN. There was nothing but water for miles, and it was raining and dark, and the #$&*^!#!! water was dark and creepy!!!

My blood ran cold. You have no idea how scared I suddenly was. Our guides ran here and there, outfitting us with the right size flippers, and gave us nasty snorkel equipment with MOLD in it. This one older fat lady next to me was talking and talking and TALKING nervously about her grandkids, and I felt bad because clearly she was as afraid as I was.

I've never been snorkeling. Neither had Hubby, or BIL or SIL. BIL was absolutely refusing to go. He was terrified of even being on boats, and was off on the other side of the ship, white knuckled and not speaking to his wife, because the whole thing had been "her idea."

One of the captain ladies gave us a crash course in about 30 seconds, and when I got the mask on, I tried to breathe through my nose and couldn't and I tore it off and looked at the dark water and at my hubby, and mouthed the words "I can't do this!" to him. He said I didn't have to. He looked a little concerned himself.

I was a mess. SIL had her mask and flippers on and seemed unfazed by it all. It was then and there that I decided I was just going to DO IT. Dammit, I needed to conquer this fear, and be able to say I did.

A bunch of people had already gotten off the boat, and were snorkeling around in the dark, creepy water, and so I waddled over to the aft part of the boat and started down the ladder. BRRRRR. Not only was the water dark and creepy, it was freezing cold. SIL and Hubby were behind me. I looked at the water, and put my mouthpiece in, and went in up to my neck.

I was amazed at how fast I could go with flippers...it was cool. So, now all I had to do was put my face in the water. Logic stopped me. If I put my face in the water and breathe, I will drown. That is what I've known for 30+ years. Kind of hard to suddenly do the opposite. I s-l-o-w-l-y put my face in the water, and suddenly I could see...fish! I could see them! and I was breathing! It was the coolest feeling ever! I started swimming with my flippers, and I saw the sea turtles, and the fish, about 12 feet down from me, in the semi-darkness! And I was actually OK with it.

I surprised myself. I lifted up my head to signal to Hubby that I was OK, and he was in the water, choking and nearly drowning because he had his upper lip caught in the snorkel mask. SIL had accidentally tried to snorkel without her tube in and had taken some nice gulps of seawater, so she was a mess like Hubby. I paddled over and helped him with his mask, and gave him a thumbs up, and went off snorkeling around.

It was really neat. Of course there was this tense moment when I came face-to-face with an enormous sea turtle and recoiled violently from shock (I think I scared him too because he went sailing to the bottom afterwards) but I really got the hang of it almost immediately and found it...fun. Can you believe it? Until a big swell caught me and water went into my tube and I nearly drowned. Yeah. That was fun. I gulped a huge gulp of ocean water and can I say it is the SALTIEST nastiest stuff? I immediately felt sick, and once we were finished, I almost got seasick on the way home.

And I was teased relentlessly by Hubby & Co. later at dinner, after we'd showered and dressed up. They said on the boat I was this terrified wreck, and 30 seconds later I was snorkeling like I'd done it for years, better than any of them. For some reason, they thought that was very funny. And Poor Hubby regaled us with the tale of how the Nervous-Talking-Grandma had panicked in the water and tried to cling to Hubby like he was her own personal Floatie. Poor lady. She didn't fare as well as me.

So, among my other names, I was dubbed the Snorkeling Queen.

Hey, it is better than Indiana Lara Poopy Pants!

:-)

Indiana Lara Poopy Pants

Status: Weary. I stayed up until 2am editing one of my novels. Smart, I know. But when you've got a bee in your bonnet...

So, one of the days of our trip to Hawaii was taken up by a certain local company (which shall remain nameless) where we had the opportunity to Hike, Bike, Sail and Snorkel.
The "hike" part was to be done in the Manoa Valley Rainforest. The "bike" part was to be a moderate downhill ride from the same place, and the sail and snorkel was to be done at Kane`ohe Bay, where we were promised that we'd see lots of sea turtles.
ANYWAY, our "guide" picked us up from some hotel in Honolulu we had to drive to (they didn't have pickups from the Ihilani) and I won't even start with how we got lost in downtown Honolulu trying to find the hotel. It was Hubby, me, Hubby's brother, and his wife.

We were packed into a smelly van like sardines, and they drove us to this residential neighborhood at the mouth of the Manoa Valley rainforest. There we were outiftted with these long rubber boots, and after I put mine on, I was ready for action. Hubby laughed and commented that I looked like an archaeologist with my gear, ready to find treasure. BIL said I looked right at home in the boots (I had tucked my khaki capris into them) and he said I looked like someone out of an Indiana Jones Movie. Hence the Moniker "Indiana Lara" was born.

We started hiking, and they had warned us that since it was a RAINFOREST, the trail might be "a bit" muddy. Yeah. Slight under-exaggeration there. Remember, it had rained every day we were in Hawaii, and especially the night before. In fact, it started to rain on our hike.
The "moderate three mile hike through lush tropical rainforest" turned out to be a miserable, mucky, mosquito infested DIFFICULT climb in a dense rainforest where tons of trees had fallen across the path, and our lead guide (who was one of those "adrenaline types" and made us all nervous) hacked away at the foliage with a knife the size of my leg. We were getting eaten alive, trudging through mud that was a foot thick, and there didn't seem to be any sort of real trail.

Hubby and BIL complained most of the way. They'd had it after mile one. But not me. I was a trooper. I was having FUN, anyway! I was pretending we were hiking through The Amazon, in search of a lost city. (Hey, whatever works, right?) The trail got a little hairy and steep (and slippery) at times. We crossed raging streams, slipped, sloshed and made our way finally to where we couldn't go any farther, and we found the "scenic waterfall" which really was just a pathetic trickle down the face of a cliff. The complaints really started then.

Then our "adrenaline junkie" guides decided to take us back down through a dense bamboo forest on one side of the mountain, where there was no trail whatsoever. They thought it would be fun, since they apparently knew the mountain like the backs of their own hands, to take all of us (20 total) through, for us to "see the beauty" of the bamboo.

Yeah, it was cool, but the guide went too fast and half of our group got lost because the dumbass in front of me had to take a picture of her parents and take about three minutes to do so. (camera not working, etc.)
People started to panic when we realized there was no one in sight, and no trail, and I reassured everyone and I plowed on ahead, following the footprints in the muck. Eventually we found them again, although the large wild pig hoofprints mixed in with the hiker's footprints made me a tad nervous.

Three hours later, we emerged from the rainforest, muddy to the gills. I looked fine, except for some reason I had reddish brown volcanic mud all over the inner thighs of my pants. Apparently when I had been stepping down the steep mudslides, the mud had crept up.

Everyone was laughing, because frankly, it looked like I'd crapped my pants.

So then, we were to bike downhill for six miles. More like SAIL downhill. I think I pedaled only once, because the incline was SO steep, I rode my brakes hard most of the way. We rode through a lot of water too, which I didn't think much of, until the end, when after we dismounted from our bikes for lunch, Hubby, BIL and SIL doubled over laughing when they saw the back of my pants. The muddy water had sprayed up the butt crack of my light colored khakis, and I looked even MORE like I'd soiled myself.
At this point I told them all I needed was for a big bird to swoop down and poop on my head, and it would have made the day complete. I was a sweaty, muddy, wet mess, and I looked awful. Luckily I had a sense of humor about it. And I told the guide that a "recommendation" I would make would be to tell their "guests" to wear dark colors, and BRING A CHANGE OF CLOTHES. Because guess who got to walk around the remainder of the day in her mud-stained, butt-crack stained LIGHT COLORED pants? Yep. ME.

Thus "Indiana Lara Poopy Pants" was born. Hey, at least I was a source of humor on the trip.

The Snorkeling Debacle will be in tomorrow's post.

Sadness.

Status: A little sad. Hey, I am entitled!

So I'm doing the one thing I do every January that makes me sad: taking down all the Christmas stuff. The trees, the wreaths, the wall stuff, the garland and changing out the candles from red and green to brown and cream, changing all the towels back, packing up the knick-knacks and generally DE-cheering the house. And it always seems to be a gloomy overcast day, when I do this.

Like today. Foggy, dark, gloomy. But hey, it was 50 degrees yesterday and all the snow melted! It's currently raining. Apparently it will rain through Wednesday and we'll get some colder temps and snow again. But for now, it's all soggy outside, and no ice and snow. I'll take it.

But I've already removed the garland and lights from the bannisters, and they are all boring and bare now. There's always this feeling of profound sadness and emptiness when I take down the Holiday stuff--and I feel like I need to "decorate" or at least do something to make up for all the decorations I'm taking down. I put clear lights in my fica trees, so that I'll still have something cheery at night. Little things like that help. It can get pretty gloomy during these cold winter months.

Lots to do today, it being a Monday. I have to run to Sam's Club and stock up on stuff (namely diapers and formula, EEEK $$$!) and run here and there. So I will regale you with a funny tale from our Hawaii trip on tomorrow's blog. The title? INDIANA LARA POOPY PANTS. Yes, that's the title. If that doesn't entice you to read tomorrow's blog, I don't know what will. And yes, this is NOT a name I gave myself. It was a name given to me by my husband, brother in law and his wife. Indiana Lara Poopy Pants.

I bet you can't wait... :-)

And Now Back To Our Regularly Scheduled Programming...

Status: Mellow. Taking the un-packing one suitcase at a time. Getting back on schedule. Bouncing from one time zone to another then another has sort of messed me up...

So, yes, Hawaii was awesome, although it rained every day but the LAST day we were there. On the last day we had alternating sun and rain, then sun and rain, etc.. So we lugged our pasty white bodies out on the beach and tried to soak up as much sun as we could. Hubby fell asleep. I was in the middle of a long overdue reading of Sara Gruen's Water For Elephants. The sun would be shining, then go away and rain would start, and I'd put the book back in the bag and wait for the rain to end. Five minutes or so later the sun would come out again, so would the book. 20 minutes later the sun would disappear, as would the book into the bag, and so on and so on, for about 4 hours.

Then we showered and went to the airport. Oh well.

Now we're back, and I want to get settled back into our usual routine of semi-chaos. Poor Thing One, she didn't get to bed until 11 pm and she has a soccer game right after school. Well, she wanted to do indoor soccer! But it's only on Fridays, and no practices.

This weekend is going to be a detox, relax weekend. Yes, I know we were just in Hawaii. But we weren't "relaxing" per se. We kind of ran here and there and everywhere, because of the rain. No lying out, hence no relaxation. Got up super early every morning, and collapsed into bed, exhausted, at night. But hey, I have a new favorite hobby: Snorkeling! Oh, and hiking through dense bamboo in a rainforest, where there was no trail whatsoever. Super cool.

Lots of stories to tell, but I'll save those for another blog. I have a synopsis to write out. Can't wait to get back into writing. I missed it!