Here is what I've been going through lately:
1) The ongoing trials and tribulations of the Big Yam's health
Tuesday night, didn't make it to my class because the Dotytron called and was like, the Big Yam feels hot, J said she thinks he has a fever, how do I take his temperature, blah blah blah. So he takes the Big Yam's temp and it's like, 38.3 and then 38.9!!! (Anything about 38C when the temperature is taken rectally is a fever.) So we got the last appointment at our clinic (once again, I'm so so so thankful I got onto one of the Family Health Teams in Toronto - it's like the smartest, most efficient system, EVER!) - as it turns out, our doctor's office keeps a few appointments open during the day for just such a scenario, and it's called a "will-call" spot or something, and basically it's the doctor's call whether they think the symptoms warrant a visit. So we see the doctor and she's like, "Well, a fever alone is never harmful, it's the body's way of clearing infection. I know parents worry about febrile seizures and brain damage..." (cut to me SPAZZING OUT HARD on the inside because I HAD NO IDEA I SHOULD EVEN BE WORRIED ABOUT SEIZURES AND BRAIN DAMAGE!!! WTF?!??? WHY DOESN'T ANYONE TELL ME THIS STUFF?!!!??) "but," she continued, "that rarely ever happens. Even if your baby has a fever of 40C over 24 hours, it's not a cause for concern." She did say it was weird that he was presenting with a fever after being on antibiotics for 3 days, but she told us to monitor it and if it went on for more than 48 hours, to bring him back.
So, on Wednesday night, I come home from work and he's got a fever of 40.3!!! So the Dotytron and I totally freaked out and cancelled dodgeball so that we could basically just sit and stare at the Big Yam in silent worry. The Dotytron had basically not eaten dinner on Tuesday night because he just sat and stared at Master T in lieu of eating, even though throughout this, the Big Yam has been totally cheerful and fine and eating. Wednesday night was super weird, because Master T would suddenly break out in these inconsolable crying jags, that were so uncharacteristic of him - like, full on pouty, miserable, real-tears crying, for no reason! It was so weird. So we totally got freaked out by that.
Thursday, the fever is gone, and he's kind of back to his usual self, but appetite is decreased and a little clingy and irritable.
This morning, I notice he has this tiny, pin-prick rash on his forehead in between his eyes. When I'm changing him, I notice the same rash is all over his torso. I think it's a heat rash because we gave him a warm bath and put him in fleecy pajamas, note that he's not feverish, and bring him to J, who tells me that it might be chicken pox (which again, I HADN'T EVEN CONSIDERED BECAUSE I'M THE MOST OBLIVIOUS MAMA EVER!) but that she'll still take him because he's likely not contagious anymore (I've said it once, and I'll doubtless say it many, many more times over the years - I LOVE MY DAYCARE PROVIDER MORE THAN LIFE - especially cuz today, not coming in to work wasn't the best option for me). So I totally sent my kid to daycare today with chicken pox. Or, what my sister thinks might be roseola, another virus kids get that has high fever, pinprick rash symptoms. Oy. Vey.
2) The good news
The good news is, my kid takes a rectal thermometre like a champ. Seriously. So completely unfazed and cool with having something stuck up his butt. It's the best. My advice for parents: go to the doctor armed with rectal temperatures if you are the kind of person (like me) whose ego loves validation from traditional professionals (lawyers, doctors, not chiropractors, etc.) The doctor's look of approval after we responded "rectal thermometre" to her question about where the temperature was taken was almost enough to mitigate how bad I felt with the Big Yam being a sickie. A distant second choice is armpit, but that might be the way to go if you are worried about puncturing your kid's rectum - but seriously, the "just the tip" rule of thumb works really well here.
Yesterday was the interment for Poppa D's ashes, which was sad and sorrowful and stressful at the same time. He's in a beautiful spot at the Toronto Necropolis, which is close to our house for visiting and is one of Toronto's oldest cemeteries - it's really peaceful and quiet there and it's across the street from Riverdale Farm, which is perfect - I'm planning on taking the Big Yam there on Remembrance Day, when I have the day off of work. I still can't quite believe that Poppa D is gone - it hurts to think about it and it hurts every time I think about how fast the Big Yam is growing up and how he's growing up without his Poppa. My heart hurts and my head spins from the fact that life insists on continuing. I get teary thinking about how much he would have loved to see Master T in his cute little log costume and how much he's missing and how much the Big Yam is missing not having his Poppa around. I'm sad for how much the Dotytron is missing, not having his dad around...it's just sad all around...it's not fair.
Last night I heard my trashy neighbours yelling something so, being the not-so-discrete snoopy voyeur that I am, I looked out the window, thinking that I might be witnessing a domestic. They were shouting something and I saw this weird orange glow on their faces and noticed other people gawking on the street, so I went outside. Well, as it turns out, MY NEIGHBOUR'S TWO GARAGES WERE ENGULFED IN FLAMES. Not my neighbour-neighbour, like the house on the corner, about 14 houses down. He had two extremely derelict, ancient garages that were really just shack/frames, but they were ON FIRE - like flames already up onto the roof and jumping onto his fence and the front of his (new!) car on fire, fire. It was insane. I went out and confabbed about it with the neighbours and the one who called it in to 911 said that when she called, the flames were 2 feet off the ground, but in the time it took her to make the call, the entire thing was up. The fire department says it looks suspicious - my neighbour didn't keep anything in there (other than his car) but had just down the raking and had 12 bags of leaves in there. The fire department came super quick and got the blaze out but the guys garage is a smoking, charred wreck, his car is donezo, and his fence got all burned up.
If I were the fire department/fire marshals/what have you, I would have INSTANTLY gone around interviewing the bystanders. Because if you're an arsonist, wouldn't you want to hang around and see your work? That's what I've been led to believe by such incisive, informative, hard-hitting journalism pieces as Backdraft. If I were the fire department, I would be looking around the people assembled for this guy:
Is it bad that when I came back into the house all a-twitter with the excitement of the fire and the thrill of talking with your neighbours out of context in your pajamas that I wanted to dig out this record and blast it into the street?
If this ever happens again (let's hope not), I can just see me and the Dotytron looking at each other, giving each other a nod, and then pushing the speakers and sub woofer up to the front windows, putting on this record, and then raving in the street. LOL.
5) Group work and mid-term hell
I'm trying to merge all the components of my team for this stupid final report for a school assignment and it's killing me and no one else cares and it's driving me crazy. Those foolios better not think that I'm bringing the whole document together, because that ain't happening. I can tell you that much. I offered to bring the works cited list together and make it cohesive and that's what I'm doing. Then I have a mid-term due next week that is crazy. The prof has set these insaneo page limit expectations like, 7 pages single spaced for Part A, but when I look at the questions, they look like one line answers to me. UGH. Do you know how much WORK it is to make up so much b.s.? Answer: a lot. More than if I actually had a lot to say.
So that's the update. Things have been bats**t crazy around here and it's been non-stop stress and go and managing too many teams/coordinating too many events (like buying Prince tickets). This weekend our social docket is blessedly free, thank my lucky stars. We have massages on Saturday and I have to make a brief appearance at a baby shower on Sunday before having dinner with Momma D and Ehmdo at Momma D's house. Sounds pretty darned blissful, doesn't it?