Hand, Foot, and Mouth (arms, legs, and throat)

This week is the busiest of the year in my professional life. Orientation/new student check-in, is huge at any university, but at a small private college it can make or break you. On the second Monday of Noel's daycare career I got the dreaded sick phone call. He was running a fever and generally miserable. I picked him up and kept him in my office until Chris could come get him to take him home. The long night we spent convinced us to head on in to the doctor where he tested positive for Strep throat. Glad to have a diagnosis and some medicine we endured our second sleepless night confident the drugs would kick in and we would sleep soon.
How wrong we were. Wednesday evening, the rash that had been mild on his legs was spreading all over his body and in his mouth. To be honest, we thought it was mild but with Noel's dark complexion it is very hard to tell. Thursday found us at the Pediatrician's office once again where he was diagnosed with Hand, Foot and Mouth syndrome. A viral infection that manifests itself in the form of blisters on, you guessed it, the hands, mouth, and feet. They can spread to the calves and fore arms but that is actually where Noel's started.
I am happy to report we got our first full night of sleep last night and I didn't find any new blisters this morning. I am so thankful my sons have an amazing father who takes such good care of them when I just can't miss work. Noel should be fully recovered by Monday and we will in all liklihood have to begin the daycare readjustment process all over again.

A Letter to my Youngest

Dear Noel,
One week ago today you began daycare, and while you won't remember this week, there are a few things I want you to know. It broke my heart to drop you off with virtual strangers. And though you marched in like a big boy and fought to get out of my arms, I so did not want to leave. I looked out my office window every other minute hoping to get a glimpse of you on the playground. I laughed out loud when I say you dumping the playground material on your teacher's head with a sand shovel. My heart nearly burst when I went to pick you up and you came running as fast you could.
I also need you to know that when you cried the following few days, I went to the van and cried too. I called to make sure you were ok, and I was a distracted mess all day long even though when I saw you out the window you were happy as a clam.
I have had to do a lot of soul searching and guilt analysis this week. It is no secret that I never put your brother in daycare. I have really been beating myself up over that fact. So here's the deal, I can't give you the same experiences I gave Chase, and even if I did I couldn't guarantee the same outcomes. I can only promise you to give you the absolute best I have to offer you at any given time and try not to make value judgements on whether that is better or worse than what your brother had.
I think somwhere in my heart of hearts I am terribly afraid if I don't do things exactly the same you will think that choice was made because you were adopted. In fact, one of my greatest fears is that you will somehow feel inferior because you did not grow inside of me. I feel deeply guilty about this whole daycare thing, if you can't tell. I guess this letter is a little bit of therapy for me. I guess I want to put into words you can understand later how I am feeling right now, since at 20 months, you are only a marginal conversationalist.
I could not love you more, son. The one thing I can promise to be the same between you and Chase is the fact I love you both more than I ever thought possible and nothing can change that. Your dad and I will always try to make the very best choices for you, and whenever I see you cry, I will feel like crying too.
Love,
Mommy

Back to the Grind

Chase kicked off his 2nd grade year today. Had I been blogging faithfully, you would have known how completely underwhelmed he was for school to be starting back. He made several impassioned speeches on the topic of how very brief his summer had been and that is seemed to have begun only yesterday. I cannot say I didn't agree with him, but I am the parent so I tried to be positive and encouraging about the start of the school year.

Last week I took a day off to spend with and for Chase. One of our goals for the day was to acquire a new backpack and lunchbox. While driving I asked if he had thought about the kind he wanted. He proceeded to describe a messanger bag style though he did not know that was the term. When I told him those were called messanger bags he said, " Well, that is what I want because I think that would just be more appropriate for second grade." Appropriate as it may be, once Chase tried one on for size he couldn't get past the fact it looked like a purse. So after checking out every backpack in town he settled for a traditional GI Joe backpack. The next challenge was to find a lunchbox which, at some point during the course of the day, he decided needed to match his backpack?!?!?!? Mission finally accomplished at Publix, of all places.

As it turns out, I think he was pretty excited. He certainly rushed me out the door this morning.

What a Wednesday

Prepare to be amused and disgusted.

Last night we went out to dinner with friends and I changed Noel into his PJ's in the van, in the dark. He was stinky, so it was extra challenging. At one point the dirty diaper fell into the floorboard, but it didn't fall face down so everything was o.k., or so I thought. We got home, I put the bag with offending stinky diaper into the trashcan. Chris even asked if I had gotten it out to make sure.

This morning I thought my van smelled kind of stinky. I knew for a fact the diaper had been thrown out so I thought it might just be Chase's dirty sandals that were in the van, or Noel's clothes that I had lazily just let in there last night. I drove to work with the windows down to get some fresh air.

At lunch I got into the van and thought the stink was very stubborn and I was very confused. I decided to go investigate the scene of the change, and there was a big poopy just laying in the floor of my van. Needless to say, I was mortified, but then I just started laughing at my self. I mean who drives around with poop in their car? I seriously debated whether or not to blog about this, but then I thought you guys could probably use a good laugh, and if you ever want to go for a spin in the poop mobile just let me know.