It's pretty easy sometimes to complain about routines. The same old thing, day after day. Same breakfast. Same clothes. Same job. Same house. Same car. Same television. Same bedtime. Same haircut. Same drinks in the fridge. Same sofa. Same bills. Same everything. But after the past month, The Smiths are wondering if all that routine isn't actually a hidden blessing we should relish instead of rue. After all, there are a lot worse things than having the luxury of being able to predict to a high degree of certai
nty how your day is likely going to go. Witness the events from just the past few weeks since Thanksgiving - a whole 25 days ago:
- Mary Poole, after having her 9th ear infection in less than a year, finally got ventilation tubes put in her ears. Easy procedure, but still one in which she had to be put under, which is scary.
- Not to be outdone, on Thanksgiving Day, Perritt was very, very sick. So sick that he missed the Thanksgiving feast at Mimi and Big Daddy's. And Perritt never misses green bean casserole. Ever. He was so sick though that he not only missed the feast, he slept right through it. In fact, he pretty much slept all day. That night we took him to Scottish Rite and that's where we found out he had RSV, which had led to pneumonia. He was, in fact, a very sick little boy. They admitted him that night. Four days and four nights later, he came home. Normally I try to keep the blog light, but really there was nothing funny or lighthearted about that stay. IVs. Lots of needles. Lots of mucus suctioning. Vitals being checked every 2 hours. Lots of crying. Oh, and LeeAnn and I got sick too.
- A day after Perritt was admitted, Mary Poole also came down with the same strain of RSV. So we took her to the hospital on Saturday. She was not, lucky for us, admitted. This is odd because Perritt is normally the one who avoids illness and Mary Poole is usually the one getting high fevers and falling ill with everything. No one's complaining though.
- A couple of days after bringing Perritt home, we have our "well visit" with our pediatrician and Perritt's got dual, raging ear infections. His 9th or 10th. Heck it could have been his 23rd as we're not really sure when he has an ear infection or not. He just sort of toughs it out. Back on antibiotics.
- Mary Poole, meanwhile, snatches back the spotlight with a really, how do you say this? aggressive? noticeable? grody? stomach bug that left her throwing up. A lot. Lots of laundry. Still not having fun at this point.
- The day Perritt got his antibiotic for his ears, he picks up Mary Poole's bug. Only he decides he's going to really get sick. So he throws up so much that toward the end of the day, we see blood in what he's throwing up. Back to the ER. Back on an IV. We leave the ER at 2:30 am but we're thankful we're leaving instead of taking the gurney upstairs like last time. Bonus: we got to watch Wall-E. Twice.
So that pretty much catches us up to last week. Since then we've been illness-free. But I'm not sure that we've really owned up to the shock of all of this. All in
all, it's been a pretty rough month. And remember, this is just stuff in the health column. There's plenty of other stuff to tack on from other departments, but really, why lament? It's Christmas!
Things we're thankful for:
Peas and Dah-dah
Mary Poole's got a bevy of great little words that make our days a lot brighter. Peas and dah-dah top the list. "Peas" is her version of "please" as in Mary Poole standing there, pointing at something and looking up at you with these longing, "Please don't neglect my basic human needs for a Tostito chip" eyes saying "Peeeeaaasss. Peeeaaassss. . . . . Peaaaaaassssss." While we've tried to steel ourselves against this attack on our heartstrings, it's incredibly hard not to cave in this situation. So of course we give her a chip, which elicits a "Dah-dah" meaning "Thank You". It should be noted that in most cases, there is one intermediate step in this exchange. This is the devilish laugh/chuckle that follows the adult reaching into the chip back and precedes the actual giving of the chip to Mary Poole. If you could translate the laugh to words, it might go something like: "Heheh, sucker. You totally caved. . . just wait until I have this perfected. Oh wait, I already do. Heheh. You're putty in my hands, Old Man." If only she weren't right. Blast!
Rah-rai
Another one of the phrases/words on Mary Poole's list. This one was sort of unique because it was until last night a cryptic phrase that we had not translated yet. All we knew is that Mary Poole would utter "rah-rai" every time she agreed with a question you asked her. Example: "Mary Poole, are you ready to go see the Christmas lights?" "Rah-raiii!, rah-RAAIIII!". LeeAnn's mom had guessed it was "Okay", which seemed logical. I kind of thought it was "Yes, please!" given her awareness of "please" and "thank you". LeeAnn didn't really have a good guess on the subject but leaned toward the OK theory. The other night when we were looking at Christmas lights around town, we decided to get to the bottom of it and quizzed her. "Mary Poole, can you say OK?" to which she responded with an indecipherable phrase. That couldn't be it. "Mary Poole, can you say 'Yes, please." . . . "Rehh peeeas." Hmm, close, but not the very familiar "Rah-raiii". "Mary Poole, can you say "Yes, sir." . . .. Not it. We pause for a second to think of other possibilities. LeeAnn says "OOH! Mary Poole, can you say 'Alright!' . . . "Rah Raaiiiiii!!!". Jackpot. Mystery solved. Yes, this is the way parent's spend their time. Deciphering baby talk. Please refrain from pointing and snickering. It's all we've got. 
Boo
We're not sure where this came from, but Perritt has developed a sincere interest in the moon. We don't think it was from Goodnight Moon, but rather it seemed to have come from spying the moon in the night sky from time to time. At this point he's genuinely obsessed with it. Once the sun sets and the night is upon us, he'll walk over to any external door or window, start patting it and saying "Boo, boo. Boo, boo." To which we have lately (because the moon is rising much later than their bedtime) been saying "The moon is still sleeping." When he sees it in books, it's all "Boo! Boo!". He's even decided that the logo that made Nike a household name and a world-famous brand is not, in fact a "swoosh" but is rather a slightly distorted "boo". Boos are everywhere as it turns out. This all started a couple weeks back, when the moon was rising earlier in the night. He'd catch a glimpse of it, stare at it from out the window of the car or pull the windowshade back from the nursery to peek through the blinds at the moon. Then, before he'd get in bet, after we'd read some stories and brushed our teeth, he'd go to the nursery door, start patting it and say "Boo". So we'd take him out into the hallway, down the hall, through the front door, out into the bitter cold and down the walkway enough so that he could turn around, gaze up as the sky to find his lunar friend, point and say "Boo!" with a big smile on his face. We'd tell him that's right, it's the moon, but now it's time to go to bed, tell the moon good night. He'd look at us and then back up to the moon and say "Bye Bye" and we'd all walk in to go to bed. It's enough to make the Grinch's heart grow three sizes.
BAAA!
This is one of Perritt and Mary Poole's first words but Perritt's most entertaining besides "truck." As with a fine wine, the use and enunciation of the word has really aged well - getting fuller-boded and more flavorful as time wears on. What started out as a "meow" approximation has become it's own word - standing alone from any former linkage to its heritage. This is the yawp shouted by Perritt whenever he sees a cat or is asked what a cat says. "Bah! Baaaah!" Not like the sheep Baaaaah - but more like Boo! only with an "A". Very staccato. I need to get audio on this because it's pretty hilarious. The best part is that he'll start to do this randomly - like in the store, or driving down the road - when he catches sight of a cat or cat-like animal (racoon, fox, etc.) Since we're not nearly as attuned or aware of the cat images in our daily life, once he starts saying "Baaaa! BAAAAH!!!" it becomes a game of I Spy/Where's Waldo for LeeAnn and me as we quickly scan the environs for the kitty he's seeing, or more commonly, what Perritt thinks is a kitty. Occasionally he'll throw a curve ball at us and break out a "Baa! . . . BAAAA!!!" when there's no kitty anywhere but he just wants to see if we'll look at him. We do, and he smiles. Sneaky devil. But most of the time there IS a kitty somewhere. As with moons, kitties are everywhere it seems. It was a kitty on LeeAnn's pajama pants the other day. Yesterday, it was a racoon on the side of a pest control truck we passed on the highway. Meh, close enough.
Hopefully if the kids can stay healthy, we can have some more regular posts. Repeat three times, routine is your friend. Routine is your friend. Routine is your friend.
