"Hard" week

Sometime late September Campbell had an earache- the sort of earache that renders one to the brink of madness.  By the time preschool called me she was inconsolable. A quick phone call to the pediatrician with a description of the pain left us all certain it was a mean case of swimmers' ear.  Note:  swimmers' ear is painful to the physical touch as well as throbbing internal pain.  Meds were called in and administered- not without much failed negotiating, and many many many tears- both hers and mine. She only wanted her daddy and I was not allowed to even LOOK at the ear much less touch it.

Days passed and the pain lessened but never quite went away.  Finally, I was allowed to view the ear.  Eeeks. She had a giant piece of earwax in there. 
My mental conversations went something like this:
OMG! WTF?
Have I not been cleaning her ears enough?
Is she some sort of earwax freak?
What if she can't hear?
What if this glob of wax is trapping water down there and there is some sort of nasty fungus running a-muck?!
The ear is awfully close the brain!!!
I wonder if she will let me get it out??!! (Let me just save you a little time: big fat NO!)
I wonder if I could get it out while she is asleep??! (Uhhh, she is a ninja and would wake up every time I would try to sneak into her room.  Then she would pepper me with questions, so, no go.)

Off to the doctor we went.
Dr:  Yep, it's earwax. Try to soften it with earwax softener and then don't worry about it. It will work it's way out.

Fast forward to yesterday. We went to the doctor for Stratton's 15 month well check. Which, by the way, seems like a scam appointment that they snuck in for an extra co-pay because we have to go back at 18 months!  Whatever.
Anyway, I brought Campbell along for a flu shot and to check out the earwax that has taken up permanent residence in her little ear.
Doctor looks into her ear. No drama from the Diva.  Doctor says, "Yeah, that's a really big piece of wax.  Do you want me to get it out?"
Campbell slaps her hand over her ear and starts to cry.
Dr:  "Well just keep putting the softener in and it will eventually work its way out."

Now, I've already paid my co-pay for Stratton and Campbell so it wasn't as though I was trying to sneak this in on a single visit. And while I knew this was going to be a doozie, I knew my OCD could not support knowing this wax could have been removed and wasn't.  "Nope, I can't take it.  I need you to remove it.  It kills me knowing its in there."

I will leave out the brutal details of the screaming and kicking and flailing that ensued but let me just say this, if we had been in a bar I would have had to buy a round of drinks for the entire place.  It was not pretty.

As the doctor is extracting the wax he says, "Wow this is the biggest piece of wax I have ever seen!  Wait a minute.  It's not wax- it's a rock."

"What???!!!!  Let me see.  That's not a rock- that is a wood chip!"

1. I know! Poor baby!!
2. Yes, I will have her hearing checked
3. Yes, we got ice cream
4. Yes, I chewed the doctor's ass out for confusing wood with wax- not once, but twice
5. Yes, we discussed not putting anything in ears, noses, or other orifices of ourselves or other people (until at least age 26)

Leave it to Hooty to round out the drama with some comic relief:

PS- Honestly, I'll take the earwax over this.

Small town neighbors

It is safe to say that I am not the most neighborly neighbor. 

When I get home I typically close the garage door behind me before I even get out of the car.  I am sure I read an article at some point that said that was the thing to do to avoid being "gotten" by the Boogy Man. 

Yesterday when I got home I saw that Alan had pulled the trashcan down the driveway but left it outside the garage.  As not to get a nasty-gram from the HOA, I pulled into the garage, left the garage door open and rolled the trashcan into the garage.   I closed the garage door as I walked into the house.  Or I pushed the button to close the door.

Hours later (after dark) the doorbell rang.  It was our neighbors from about two houses down on the corner.  They had puzzled looks on their faces.  "Is everything alright?" they inquired.
"Yes. Why do you ask?"
"Your garage light is flashing and we were worried that it was a distress signal. We know you have two small children.  We just couldn't not come and check."

How about that for being neighborly? If I wasn't dead inside I am sure I would have cried for their thoughtfulness.  Instead, Alan told them that I am a spazz and something was probably blocking the sensor on the door.  I think I will bake them something yummy to say thank you.

PS- Turns out the trashcan was blocking the sensor so the door did not close and therefore the light was flashing like a disco rave.

"Ureka!"

says Stratton, or at least that is what the curious little grin on his face said this morning as I was changing his diaper.
Yep.  He found it.
Life will never be the same for him (or me) again.

Dear 2011, oh what are you doing to me already?

Sincerely,
Campbell's Stinking Baby Boy's Mom

Hello 2011!

We ate our obligatory single dirt- er black eyed-  pea. Blehck!!! Then, we washed it down with some sugar cookies rolled in green sprinkles.
2011 is lookin' good so far.
Here's hoping everyone has a great year!

Peace out from Campbell's House!