Home from Day-Care

Patrick had a rough week while we were on vacation. His allergies kicked in while we were out of town. Lots of coughing and medication later, we got home ... noticing a mild rash that may have stemmed from a new tooth coming in (yes, those two factors do seem to go together somehow).

Now, he has picked up something else that is causing diarrhea (think changing the diaper every fifteen to thirty minutes) which has irritated the rash ... taking things to a whole new level.

I got called by Patrick's day-care part way through my work day; severe rash and five diaper changes that were getting progressively more painful due to the consistency ... thankfully, I am a good trainer and my students were working through the launch of the software extremely well. I called Jen and left ... I had to stop by and swap vehicles since she had two things in her vehicle that I didn't in mine: the car seat and air conditioning (necessity with a sick child and consistently 90+ temperatures).

I called the doctor, who is on vacation ... the other doctor in the office had me get Aquaphor and Maalox. Apparently, these two can be gotten pre-mixed as a prescription (but, I am smart enough to mix them in a zip-lock baggie myself). This mixture is to be used at every diaper change, as well as we have to take him off milk (which he has not wanted in over six months) and acidic foods. Oh, yeah ... and more fiber too.

If Patrick is not better in two days, I have to call back.

All that in a five minute phone conversation before I got to Jen to swap cars. Cars swapped ... and I was off to the store to track down the chemicals for my science experiment. If that doctor had known me in high-school, this might not have happened.

Two laps around the store and a consult with the pharmacist and I was able to check out and head to day-care to get my little-man.

At day-care, they upped the diaper changes total to eight in four hours.

I stepped into the room to find Patrick sitting at the table with his fellow students (eight kids in seats mounted into the table top). Patrick is sound asleep; face down on his hands ... exhaustion. I almost wanted to leave him there. One of his fellow students tried to help wake him, shooed off by the day-care workers.

Patrick had enough energy to wave goodbye as we left. He took his sippy-cup, finishing half on the ride home ... saying little and generally staring out the window.

Once we arrived home, his energy picked up ... he walked, drank, ate, and played (destroyed the living room). At one point, I caught him as he managed to stand (yes, both feet on the seat) on the Hot-Wheels Cycle with one hand on the steering wheel. Other than the constant diaper changes, he was back to his usual self.

He is sleeping now, so as I finish this I am heading off to relax and watch television as he sleeps nearby ...

"Hello?"

We walked into my parents house ... looking for Papap. "Hello," we called. "'Ello," Patrick mimicked. "Hello," we called again, laughing a bit. "'Ello," Patrick mimicked again, delighted that he could get us laughing that easily. Out in the back yard, he went for the shovel (small blue plastic one I got for him a while back). "Maybe he should go shovel in the sand-box," Papap said ... Off he went to the sand-box, lugging the shovel. Later I asked him if he wanted raisins. Shaking his head no, he headed for the fridge. "Eeze," he said ... Cheese, he intended. His comprehension and vocal capacity is growing by leaps and bounds!

A Simple Evening

We had my parents over for dinner last night ... Patrick and Jen prepared dinner, even going as far as making brownies for desert! It was very cool watching Patrick cuddle with his Grandfather. It is always amazing to me how those two get along. It was also very cool watching Patrick and his Grandmother read a book together ... Before dinner, he got a chance to show off the cast-iron toy stove that Jen had played with as a child. This has become one of his favorite toys ... the parts certainly make a lot of noise when he tosses them across the room. At dinner, I sat next to Patrick, across from his grandparents ... their expressions as they watched him were sheer joy and a joy to watch, as well. At one point, I asked Patrick to show them the Moon and Stars in his room. He has a humidifier that lights up, projecting colored starts and a moon on the ceiling ... he loves them. He immediately headed for the stairs, and turned to his grandparents and signaled come on ... a q

Terror or Anger

Jennifer and I woke about twenty minutes ago to Patrick crying ... nothing unusual. I asked her to get him since I have to start getting ready for work in about three hours (yes, I have to work on a Saturday). Where things became unusual was the loud, sustained crash, and Patrick's cries rising to a hefty scream. Being the concerned parent that I am ... with visions of his changing table collapsed on top of him, I rushed to their aid. "What was that?" I cried. Jennifer, weakly replied, "I fell down the stairs." With Patrick screaming at the top of his lungs, I think I actually asked her to repeat what she said. I found my wife sitting, with her legs out and my son in her arms, at the bottom of the stairs. Asking if she and Patrick were OK was mixed into confused questioning about what happened. Somehow, her feet went out from under her (we suspect a couple of the leaves that Patrick likes to play with were on the steps). While my real concern was i

Fatherhood

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