Category Archives: My Life
- There is a long list of things I want to do. But I have no time to do them.
- I realized the other day that CDub never compliments my photography. Specifically, he hates every photo I’ve ever taken of him.
- And then later, when we were having a discussion about my photography in general, he said” the camera does all the work.” I almost dropped him. On the spot.
- The funny thing is ( or not so funny) is he really doesn’t understand that he insulted me.
- The new job is boring I mean really. But the novelty of sitting on my butt all day and having lunch has not worn off. I will keep it moving.
- Speaking of sitting on my butt all day, I got on the scale last week, and the number was a number I haven’t seen since pregnancy.
- Three words: AW.HELL.NO.
- I’m running again, and my knees are holding up just fine.
- I want to go to Type A Advanced in New Orleans. It’s one day and it combines the best of both worlds: photography, blogging and my favorite city. Bliss people. Bliss.
- But Blogalicious is the same month. hmmmmm
- Pookah is growing up too fast.
- Due to unexpected kindness, we are going to Disney after all this summer. Just for a day though. He’s 3 for goodness sake.
- I made a photography bucket list, I’ll share soon.
- I hate being a landlord. My tenant is about to drive me crazy.
- I thought I had found another school for Pookah. But the food situation is even worse. SIGH. There were too many hoops I was going to have to jump through to bring his lunch in.
- I’m going to have to quit the hospital soon…..after our vacation…..I’m just not interested anymore. But I keep holding on because last time I got a different job and quit the hospital, I got laid off and had nowhere to go. So…..
- My Dad is doing better. But he sleeps a lot. It’s kind of disconcerting to see. He looks almost frail. And it hurts my heart.
There’s more, but that’s all I feel like sharing for now.
First, let me start by saying thank you for all of the thoughts and kind words. I appreciate it.
And Pookah recovered quickly. The photo above was taken on Saturday, 2 days after the “incident”. He ran all day. And didn’t complain once. I had to force him to take breaks. He did need several breathing treatments but that was to be expected. But he’s doing fine.
It took a week for me to get some type of satisfaction from the “incident” as I have started to call it.
The day after, I had to return Pookah to school. Not by choice. But by necessity . I don’t have emergency backup childcare. And all friends, relatives, godmother’s anyone I could have trusted him with, they were all working or out of town.
That day, I was HOT, MAD. And so sad for my boy. But he was eager to go to school. Eager for show and share that happens every Friday. And after the horrible day he had had the day before, I just wanted him to have some happiness.
So I took him to school. I took him back to the place that had almost taken him away from me. The place that caused him to get stitches in his leg.
And most of the staff was falling over themselves to apologize.
But I was on a mission.
And I started with the teacher who gave him the pancake.
She didn’t know. She didn’t know he was allergic to anything. She just assumed that he never ate breakfast because he was full. NOT because he was allergic to anything. But she apologized. Profusely. Over and over.
I appreciated that.
But I had bigger fish to fry. Because the problem as I saw it was not that he got the pancake. The problem was that there was no safety measure in place to make sure that this didn’t happen.
Armed with that info, I went to the nurse. Gave her the new epi pen( that cost me $249 WITH insurance) and sat to wait for the Director to get in. And talked with one of my sources( read a gossip) who told me ALL about what happened that day.
And it wasn’t pretty. The mystery of the “scratch” as everyone kept calling it was solved. Seems there were three people holding him down to get in the epi pen and someone’s cheap ass ring scratched him. I’ve seen the teacher and the ring. We discussed. And that’s all I’m going to say about that. Also, I learned that no one knew their head from their ass as my child sat there for 2 hours struggling to breath before they figure out that he had a pancake.
Finally I had to go get dressed for work, but I stopped back by Pookah’s school to drop off Benadryl and who should I see but the Director. She sashays over, lays a condescending hand on my arm and says, “we’re so sorry this happened. And I hope his scratch is better. I would love to meet with you but I’m in a meeting right now.”
I shook off her hand and told her that “scratches” didn’t need stitches and here ( handing her the epi-pen bill and the ER bill) call me today. My number is in his file.
And I walked away.
Because I had to work. I’m still on my 3 month probation. SMH
She didn’t call.
She didn’t call that day, or Monday. Finally Tuesday morning, I called and spoke with her administrative assistant and basically told her that Boo, your boss needs to call me because you all almost killed my child and me and my Lawyer are starting to feel like you don’t care. I’m available after my meeting. Call me.
She called during my meeting and left a condescending message and said she hoped everything was resolved now and she would be back on Thursday.
That day, I went on a search for HER boss. The school has a board of directors. Did they know?
Of course they didn’t, but I was happy to inform them.
Amazing how I got that call from the Director on Thursday.
I think, she was getting her ducks in a row. She was planning, plotting, trying to have a plan for me. But like I told her, that’s all I needed you to do, was to TELL me you were working on it. To tell me that you had a revised plan going forward and what that plan was. I’m happy that you’ve got all of these committees and safeguards and revised plans of actions. Oh and that call to the state you say you need to make? Don’t worry, I got you! Already did that for you.
In the end, she and I came to an agreement. Financially and a plan for Pookah.
It works. For now.
A lot of people have told me that they would have removed Pookah from the school immediately. And while that was my first inclination( and still is if I’m honest) I had to look at the big picture. In this last week, I have searched and searched for a daycare near our house, near my job, near Cdub’s job. Either they aren’t teaching anything, they are way too expensive, or the food situation is worse than what we’ve got. In other words, the devil I know verses the devil I don’t .I’ve searched for nannies( so far out of my price range it isn’t funny) shared nannies( again, out of my price range), and even thought about COULD I stay at home? Could we afford it? No, No. NO.
We are not that fortunate. And we’re still recovering from when both of us got laid off in the same year as Pookah was born. And honestly, it’s not something I ever wanted to do. Never even thought of.
All in all, I’ve been pleased with his teachers, his happiness at this school( especially in relation to the last one) and what he’s been learning. He loves his teachers. He loves his friends. And honestly, they love him too, judging by the crying and carrying on I’ve had to sit through with them this past week. There is just the big overpowering fact that my child needed an epi pen in their care. Because of their carelessness, foolishness. Because they weren’t prepared.
But they are now.
So there is no perfect solution right now. I’m not giving up on looking into another daycare, or even looking for a nanny share. I’m even looking into what it would take for me to be able to stay home with him for the next year until we can get him into a preschool.
I hate that my hands are tied, but this is life right now.
We’ll just have to deal.
I’ve been practicing selfies for forever now. And they never come out right. Something is always off. The focus, the light, the composition. I’m never satisfied.
Sometimes, I feel like motherhood is the same way. I’ve been “practicing” for three years. But I always feel like I can never quite get it right. I can never quite do it like my mother did it. I’m not consistent enough. I’m not tough enough, I don’t play enough, I don’t discipline the “right” way, etc etc etc..
I had big plans for motherhood. A big lists of things I would and would not do. But motherhood is a journey, a learning experience. I wouldn’t say it’s an experiment, but close to it. I can only try to do my best and pray that it all turns out right. I think for the most part, I am doing OK. Because I am the mother to this brilliant 3 year old who is full of joy and laughter and light despite all the things that go wrong in his life.
Yesterday I got my first ever Mother’s Day card from my Pookah. It was handmade. And it was imperfectly perfect. I loved it. And I realized that Pookah loves me the same way. He doesn’t care that I’m an imperfect mother with all my perceived flaws. When that sweet voice tells me that he loves me and gives me sweet kisses, I know that all he sees is someone who loves him. Consistently. All the time.
And that lets me know I’m doing something right.
They gave my son, who is allergic to wheat, a pancake at daycare today.
Let’s let that marinate for a moment……
I get the call, around 930 that Pookah is not feeling well. He says his stomach is hurting. The school “nurse” also takes the time to point out that he is breathing hard and just doesn’t look right.
Confused, the first thing I ask is: what did he eat?
She asks the 3 year old, who replies: chicken nuggets…..which was lunch the day before.
I tell her to feel his belly. Is it hard? Yes…..take him to the bathroom and call me back.
15 minutes later……..
So, no he didn’t have to go to the bathoom. But now he is red in the face and he isn’t breathing too well.
By this time, CDub is already on his way down to the school from HIS job. Because I called him and told him to go lay eyes on my child.
I hang up, confident that he will get to the bottom of this….until the phone rings again:
“Ms Wiltz, he ate a pancake.”
“Wait..WHAT? He’s allergic to wheat!?!!!!”
“OH SHIT! I mean, what should I do?”
( side note, YOU A NURSE! WHY THE HELL ARE YOU ASKING ME WHAT TO DO?)
“Give him the epi pen NOW. I’m on the way”
“But I have to call 911 if I do! I’ll call you back.”
By this time, it had been at least an hour since he had the pancake.
I’m shaking I’m crying, I could barely get my purse out of the my desk. Luckily, my friend saw me and promised to tell my manager where I was going.
I arrived at the daycare just as the ambulance was leaving. Since CDub hadn’t called me and his car was still there, I assumed they didn’t take him to the hospital.
They said he was much better, but CDub noted that in the 5 minutes he had been there, he had already noted that the hives were coming back. And my baby was swollen, red, and just….
Well, off to the ER we went because even after the epi pen is given, you still have to watch a person because after the epi has worn off, the reaction could return. And as we drive, I watched in horror as my child vomited all over the place in the backseat.
And I’m a nurse who doesn’t do vomit. ( go figure)
I managed to drive, keep him from choaking on it, and keep myself from vomiting all at the same damn time.
But oh, it gets better….
We get there, start taking off his clothes, and found this……
On his leg.
WHAT THE HELL?
And Pookah wasn’t saying anything. But he wouldn’t let anyone touch it either. Soooo, they managed to put numbing cream on it and waited.
And then tried to clean out the wound. It took THREE of us to hold him down.
“He needs stitches”
He cried/screamed and I held his hands and sang to him while they had to add more lidocaine to the cut to numb it up before they could stitch it up.
He got a popsicle at the end of it and all was right in his world.
He had no clothes to come home in and no car seat to ride in since it was still full of vomit, so…….
( He did have a seat belt on all the way home and I drove really slow)
I got him home, gave him some motrin and he passed out.
I make it a point, every morning, to get up early and fix Pookah breakfast. EVERY MORNING. He NEVER eats breakfast in school. In fact, it is a small joke among his teachers that he eats oatmeal EVERY morning and refuses even an offer of fruit because he is full. He always TELLS them that “My Mommy fixed me oatmeal.”
The half story that I got was that he was in another teacher’s room and he got the pancakes there. Why didn’t she know my child was allergic to wheat? It’s EVERYWHERE.
2nd,if like they say, everyone knows, then how did he get the damn pancake? Because supposedly EVERYONE KNOWS!
Except the nurse who holds the epi pen…but I digress….
CDub said that when he got there, the DIRECTOR was saying, well they weren’t wheat pancakes. So clearly, there are some people who just don’t know that wheat is in damn near everything: cookies, cakes, cupcakes, pasta, breads, sauces, meatloafs, some meatballs, etc…….
Do I have to do a damn in-service?????
I’m going to have to make them realize that this is like a peanut allergy: he could die from it.
This is why I pack his damn lunch AND snacks every day. SO THAT THIS DOESN’T HAPPEN!
Oh we are all going to have a looooong talk tomorrow morning.
And there is no way I can be nice about it.
Just wait until tomorrow morning.