I Fought the Law...and Murphy Won

I guess Murphy decided that we were home and settled in and that life was chugging along just a little to perfectly, because the last 24 hours have been a bit of crazy around here.

To start, the elder kiddo is starting to show just a little bit of cracking around the edges as the reality of having a sibling sinks in. He has to share his parents! What? Who said that was an ok idea? Most of the time he is great, but when he is not...well, there's that poem about a little girl with a curl? Yeah. So it's become a balancing act of trying to make sure he gets good attention, chances to be a big helper (which, not surprisingly seeing as he's probably smarter than me and Tim added together, he sees completely through), and time out for inappropriate emotional processing (i.e. tantrums when his way is not immediately allowed.) Throw in the fact that our trip totally threw his routine out the window, so he's overtired and fighting his naps, despite the fact that he sleeps better at night when he gets a good nap (I don't get this, I really don't, but if he's overtired he will. not. sleep. Which just makes him more overtired and so on and so forth until he finally crashes in a big ball of badly behaved tantrum flames. We're kind of at supernova right now on this front.) So we're working on reestablishing good sleep and, well, it's a process.

Next up, and not really big though it seems unnecessary with the elder kiddo issue, the younger kiddo is a bit, well, constipated. So he is currently spending the bulk of his awake time the shade of a stewed tomato as he grunts and pushes and flails his legs in the air miserably. Then he finally gets a big splurt out (you're welcome!) and seems to feel a little better for a teeny bit. Still, the consistency is fine (you're welcome again!), so the doctor is unconcerned. He also still has the rash on his booty from those stupid Luvs and it's just not clearing up, so I'll ask about it at the doctor tomorrow (2 week well baby check.)

Then we have the fact that, while trying to find something in the utility room yesterday, Tim brushed against the water heater valve and managed to cause a leak that will not stop. Yes, the thing is 12 years old, but honestly, according to him, he barely touched the thing. So for now we have a rather ingenious contraption using the fish tank siphon, spare rubber tubing, and a bucket to keep the rather constant stream of water going down the drain (because of course left to its own devices it doesn't actually head for the drain, even though the floor slopes toward said drain) and a new water heater on order from Sears. But hey, silver lining and all, we got 10% off since it's President's Day weekend.

Finally, and really the one that has pushed me just slightly over the edge in the stress department, the younger kiddo has a low grade fever. Last night as I was feeding him, I couldn't get over how hot his head felt, so I used the little behind the ear thermometer that we all use and just about had a heart attack because it came back at 100.5. So I quickly dialed up the on call nurse because that just seemed excessive for a newborn and she had me take his temperature rectally (why I didn't think to do this, I'm not sure, but it has been 4 years and the newborn thing is coming back a little slower in some ways.) That way, he was only at 99 ("only"), and she said just keep an eye on it. But hey, bonus, inserting a thermometer helped some with the constipation (you're welcome! And yes, it's about as gross as you think it would be to be holding a thermometer and have that all loosen up.) He hovered in the 99 range most of the night and is now back to 98.4, but his little head is still just so hot that I am having a hard time thinking he's ok, regardless of his core temp. At least his eating and pooping are back to normal today. But I'm worried, teetering on freaked out (regardless of the assurances of the advice nurse and Tim) and will just feel a lot better after our well baby visit tomorrow when the CNP we're seeing, who is brusque on the best days, will look at me with scorn and roll her eyes and tell me I worry too much. (Honestly, she's the worst one in the practice. She's competent, but I just really dislike seeing her - she makes you feel like an incompetent moron simply by breathing. But she was the only one available without a longer notice for the appointment, so you take what you can get.)

With all of that, Tim is working from home today. This mostly means he's stuck doing email type things (though he's had some conference calls) and I feel like I'm mostly responsible for having wrecked his schedule just as he was trying to get it back together after being gone. I know it's not my fault (really, he's the one who broke the water heater...also, he says "hot water heater" every time and it makes me giggle just a little. At this point I think he's doing it on purpose.) But still...I know he's stressed about being behind at work and neither of us really needed this pile on right now.

So if you need me, I'll be the one knocking on anything wooden I can find.

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