A Day in the Life of...

Our house. My New Year's Resolution--update this thing more often.

The Rooster has an ear infection. Eeny hasn't ever had one, so we're on new turf. Rooster's on amoxicillin for it. He did really well the first few days, but today has given me zero cooperation.

Our Adventure in Infant Medication:

Step 1: Attempt to squirt medication via syringe into Squirming Hollering Infant's cheek.

Step 2: Wipe bright pink staining medication off of Infant's mouth, head, and outfit, then off of self, the couch, and brand new shirt.

Step 3: Since the syringe obviously isn't working, try putting a little bit in a baby spoon and see if he'll bite.

Step 4: Oh, he bites all right. No really. I'd like the spoon back, please. Stop waggling it at me and giggling. You're getting pink stuff everywhere.

Step 5: Wipe bright pink staining medication off of Infant's mouth, head, and outfit, then off of self, the high chair, and brand new shirt.

Step 6: Out of desperation, think to mix meds with prunes. Cautiously edge spoon to infant's mouth.

Step 7: After prying spoon from Infant's teeth, wipe Prun-icillin from self, brand new shirt, jeans, table, and hair.

Step 8: Put mixture in the fridge for an hour or so later, and acknowledge that an 8 month old has beaten me.

Step 9: Deposit amoxi-prune-covered Infant in bathtub, and watch him expend large amounts of energy crawling back and forth and splashing. Attempt to scrub mixture from Infant's face and end up realizing that the brand new shirt will never be the same again, and the bathroom floor really needs a good mopping.

Step 10: Convince Infant that the bathtub is worth leaving by surreptitiously pulling the plug. Realize the towel has been forgotten and rush dripping Infant through the house to the room, where it is realized that the only clean dry thing resembling a towel is a flannel receiving blanket.

Step 11: Dry Infant with receiving blanket amid gales of baby laughter that is almost certainly at Mommy and not with Mommy. Diaper.

Step 12: Take cute pictures of Infant with Flock of Seagulls 'do, then another of Infant with a mohawk, then another of the Infant attacking Mommy with kisses.

Step 13: Stuff protesting infant into sleeper.

Step 14: Nurse infant to sleep and hope he'll stay that way long enough for his clothes to be thrown in the washer, then despair of him ever getting to wear cute little "Born at Home" t-shirt in public again.



Now that that's done, some Eenyisms:

Eeny: Where's Jeff?
(Jeff's the Purple Wiggle, for those unaware of the details of children's television)
Me: I don't know.
Eeny (knowingly): Sleepin da countryside.
Me: He is? Oh good.
Eeny (emphatically): Sleepin da countryside.
Me: Where's Jeff?
Eeny: Sleepin da countryside. Sleepin da backseat. Oh, big red car.


My pint-sized Wiggles fan has also decided that no one may sleep if he's awake. Someone sleeping results in:

Eeny: Rooster sleeping.

Me: Yes, Rooster's sleeping. Please use your quiet voice.

Eeny: Rooster sleeping. Let's wake 'im up.

Me (hoarse whisper): Ack! No! Shhhhhhh!!!!

Eeny (waaaay too enthusiastically): Ooooooone! Twooooooooooo! THREE! WAKE UP
ROOSTER!!!!!

Rooster: ::::cracking one eye::::

Me: Whew! Eeny, you must be quiet. Rooster is taking a nap.

Eeny: No, Rooster wake up. WAKE UP ROOSTER!

Rooster: :::baby grumbling, progressing to a full-fledged yell::::

Me: Why couldn't you sing "Rock a Bye Your Bear?" Argh.