More Perfect

wherein i attempt to do all the things that women are supposed to do and generally make myself miserable in the process

Thursday, February 14, 2008

New Lows in Parenthood

"Milo doesn't smell so great. He needs a bath."

"I'm too tired to give him a bath. Can't we just spray him with air freshener or something?"

Labels: ,

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

New Lows in Parenting

A few weeks ago Milo developed a rash on his face. It looked a little like teenage acne -- tiny raised red bumps all over his cheeks. Over the course of the day the rash seemed to fade so I didn't worry about it too much. The next day the rash was back, worse than it had been the previous day. Also Milo was super crabby, and not sleeping well. But again, over the course of the day the rash faded. I called the pediatrician just in case, but missed their return call that evening. No big deal, I thought.

The next morning Milo woke up with his body entirely covered in the red rash. It was on his stomach, all over his back, and you could see the beginings of it on his arms. I flipped through the "How to Raise Your Child and Also Here's A List of Major Infectious Diseases" book and found the following options for Milo's rash:
1. Rubella
2. Measles
3. Fifth's Disease

Steven called the pediatrician that afternoon, but they were already closed for the day. We had the option of paging the doctor in the case of emergency.

"It's an emergency," I said.

We paged the doctor.

Was it actually an emergency? Who knew? If it was rubella, maybe. If it was some random weird rash, then no.

The doctor called back and said it sounded like Milo was having a reaction to something that was touching his skin. Had we changed his clothing recently? Detergent? Had he gotten into anything we could think of? No, no, and no.

But he had been drooling a lot lately. Maybe it was from sleeping in drool? I figured I'd change the crib sheet just in case. I walked into Milo's room, put my hand down on his crib sheet, and felt something weird, rough, and grainy. I flipped on the light and stared at my hand. It was covered in sand. The kid had been tracking in sand from the sandbox, and then sleeping on a beach for a week. Oh yes.

Labels: