A Day in the Life

I received this particularly entertaining email from Beth while I was out of town last week. In case you're considering children of your own, consider yourself forewarned. Posted with permission.


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From: Beth Rustici
Sent: Wed 8/9/2006 11:01 AM
To: Mike Rustici
Subject: we need a bath


mike-
it is 10am and we all already need a bath. why? you
may ask. oh, let me tell you. she has already managed
to have all of the following on her, in her, in her
hair, and on her face. POOP. you already know this
story. PEE. again, no need to repeat. ANIMAL CRACKERS.
went to the park and thought these would be a good to
keep her occupied. oh, 1/2 way through, stopped, and
checked out why she was so quiet. oh yeah, we like to
PLAY in the animal crackers, not eat them. they are
all over her, in her hair, in her hands, all over the
sides and front of the stroller. oh well, what can you
do now. proceed with my walk. get done, go the car,
and proceed to park her so i can use a wet wipe to
"clean" her up. oops, my mistake. i have parked her
too close to the car's tire. yep, you guessed it. now
we have black TIRE smudge all over our hands to match
the animal crackers. proceed to clean THAT up. get
home and decide to give her a snack. hey, let's try
the jarred MAC AND CHEESE! good idea! actually, not
one. do you know how far that mac and cheese can fly
when she grabs the spoon FROM your hands and proceeds
to flap her arms widely over her head. yes, now we can
add the walls and blinds to clean up as well and the
mac and cheese from her, and the TURKEY MEAT that she
has proceeded to wipe all over the chair, and the
WATER off the floor that she insists on dropping
(those damn sippy cups DO leak). have to run, she just
dropped a HUGE load in her diaper. that makes 4 shooey
diapers today. okay, candid camera, come on out. and
seriously, you want to know when i ovulate again?!
~beth

Dinner and a Doc

So Tuesday started out like any other day. A big slimy poop in the diaper, some Cheerios and bananas for breakfast, some play here and there and a few good naps. I had an easy job of afternoon baby duty while Amelia napped and then the three of us met up with some friends for dinner (one of whom had to go to the hospital the prior Tuesday). She'd been droopy and sleeping a lot over the past day or so, but we didn't think anything of it...really, we just enjoyed the extra sleep.

After dinner the guys went out for ice cream (Cold Stone of course) while the girls went back to the house to gather the baby presents we were going to deliver to Rachel and Shannon. Chris and I returned to the house with glee in our eyes (it was time for ice cream and presents), but to our dismay the girls were in a panic. Turns out somebody thought to take Amelia's temperature and it was 104.5.

So, I'm thinking, "give her some Tylenol, let's eat". But somebody has the bright idea to call the pediatrician who tells us she needs to go to the emergency room. Bummer. (ok, so I admit, calling the doctor was a good idea, but come on, this was Cold Stone).

Beth and I get off the phone with the doctor and head upstairs ready to wisk little Amelia away to the hospital...first though we need to get her out of the bathtub. Jonie, Jenny and Chris thought it might be a good idea to put her in a cold bath. Personally, I would have just given her some (of Beth's) cold ice cream.

So we get to the hospital, checked in and back to the room. We look up, and there's Terri...or um, Dr. Theresa S. White...pediatrician, Amelia's godmother and hero of the day. Sweet! We've got our own private doctor. Really there's nothing like having a private doctor stay in the room with you the whole time, talk you through the treatment and tell you the moment they've eliminated everything that can kill a baby. Seriously, it was awesome. I highly recommend a full time private pediatrician to anybody who can afford it, or anybody that has an awesome doctor friend who will drive twenty minutes at the drop of a hat and then sit with you in the ER for most of the night!

Another thing that is awesome is hospital grade rectal thermometers! The home jobbies just don't cut it. You gotta stick them in and leave them there for at least a minute. Hospital grade, seven seconds tops. Fifty-three fewer seconds of jabbing a stick up your squirming and crying babies derrière is certainly worth the cost of proper equipment.

Oh yeah, anyways. SHE'S FINE. Did I forget to mention that earlier? Apparently it's just a virus and all we can do is let it run its course. She's still droopy and sick, but there's nothing to worry about. And yes, in case you were wondering, I did get to eat my ice cream...but not until the next night.