So, before I talk about our adventures in the Hospital on Tuesday – there’s a preface – and it has nothing to do with Kaleb.
And everything to do with a certain naked two year old.
I woke up, looked at the monitor – and saw a little butt waving at me.
I asked if he had to pee. He said “Yeah!” He fibbed.
I put him in underwear and got the boys breakfast. He took off his underwear and ran around laughing.
I put him in underwear and took a phone call. He took off his underwear and ran around laughing.
I put him in underwear and we fed the fish. He took off his underwear and ran around laughing.
I am not amused. But I give up. Fine. Be naked. Just don’t pee on anything but the toilet. Who am I kidding??
Daddy woke up, shuffled his way to the coffee maker, and was greeted with Mason’s free-flying weenis. For the second time in a day, I heard “Oh my God! Why are you naked?!”
Okay, now I’m amused.
So, anyway. Back to the hospital.
Kaleb fell asleep Monday night around midnight – shaking and upset, but better than he was. I pulled out the couch/bed thing and set myself up to get some rest. Or not.
You would think, as worked up as Kaleb had been, that he would sleep long and hard after such an ordeal. Not our kid. He doesn’t sleep well on a good day, let alone a traumatic one. He was up most of the night – whining, talking in his sleep, thrashing, crying – you get the idea. It wasn’t a good night. Around 2 he woke up screaming in agony, and I knew without even thinking he had to pee. He hadn’t gone to the bathroom since we left home (for those of you who don’t know, Kaleb doesn’t do unfamiliar toilets. They aren’t safe. End of story). So I gather him up, while he’s screaming, thrashing, still mostly asleep – grab the little bag that has the little box that all of his little wires are connected to, make sure I have enough cord free to reach the toilet, and carry him over.
Stand him up, and stay right behind him, because he’s still pretty much asleep and he’s swaying on his feet precariously, strip him down and tell him to pee. Amazingly, he does. He’s still screaming the entire time, and he’s yelling at me in his sleep that it’s not a safe potty, but he does go to the bathroom (are we picking up on a theme here? Most of my life revolves around a toilet these days!). Back to bed with him, he thrashes and whines for another two hours, and finally falls into a peaceful sleep around 4 – I was out shortly after.
I woke up around 7am, to find him still sleeping soundly. I ordered his breakfast and some coffee for myself, cleaned up my sleep space and read until he woke up about 8. That’s when the real fun began. We argued over what he was going to watch for about thirty minutes (he wanted Madagascar 3 – of course one of the only movies we don’t have on DVD), until he finally settled on the Lorax. We pulled out his little binder of paper and markers for him to color – but he refused to color because “I can’t do anything with sticky things on my head! The lady with no mouth broke me Mommy! You’re supposed to fix me so we can go home! I can’t color because I’m broken and I have sticky things on me! People with sticky things can’t do ANYTHING!”
Luckily his breakfast arrived (along with my coffee-ish substance), and I was given a bit of time to figure out how to explain to him he was not broken.
After breakfast I grabbed his paper and a marker and asked if I could show him what the sticky things were for. He didn’t scream at me, so I took his silence as a yes and went to work. First of all – you need to understand, Mommy is not an artist. Mommy has no artistic talent whatsoever. When Kaleb was little he used to carry around a Magna-Doodle like it was his lifeline. He would constantly as me to draw things, then (every single time) he yell at me because I didn’t draw what he told me to. Yes I did! I just didn’t do it well.
Anyway, I told Kaleb that all the sticky things were like little readers. They all read different parts of his brain, and when the doctor puts them all together they tell a story. So the doctor gets to read the story of his brain. I went on for quite some time, but that was gist of it. Our picture (and I say our picture because Kaleb told me to draw 90% of it) came out like this:
This seemed to appease him for a while. He continued to get more and more agitated each time a nurse checked his vitals, and was constantly wary that the lady with no mouth would come back – but at least he wasn’t saying he’s broken anymore. Which was a plus. He also wasn’t screaming – which was even better because mommy was going through serious nicotine and caffeine withdrawal.
I ordered his lunch, and he remained focused on that for the hour until it arrived. The nurses can’t check his vitals because he has to have lunch. Then his lunch came and he refused to eat it. He also refused to drink the milk – again it’s school milk and we’re in the hospital and he’s sticky and he can’t have school milk in the hospital when he is sticky. How on earth am I supposed to argue with that logic?? It got worse when Woody Woodpecker arrived from Universal. Kaleb was NOT having that. He immediately threw his blankie over his head and started screaming at Woody. That was fun.
But not as fun as the thirty minutes we spent in the bathroom while he screamed bloody murder because he had to pee but refused to use the potty as it was not safe. The nurse came in four times to check on us – they could hear him screaming down the hallway, and she was shocked when she realized he was not in mortal danger – he just needed to pee.
Finally, Sho-Sho arrived. Bearing gifts. Beautiful, wonderful Sho-Sho with her beautiful wonderful gifts. The Lego City Police Station for Kaleb. And cupcakes. And milk. And snacks. And Madagascar. Diet Pepsi for Mommy. And a break. Thank goodness for Sho-Sho! A couple hours into her visit, I had run out to the parking garage to take some stuff to the car and have a much needed nicotine fix. As I walked back to the room I saw a giant, fuzzy, green monster thing leave Kaleb’s room. My first thought was oh no. I walked into the room to find Kaleb in bed, with two Miami Heat dancers on either side of him, while he completely ignored them to work on his Legos. According to Sho-Sho, when they all walked in the room, Kaleb’s only response was “No! You are NOT Lego builders!” After that he ignored them.
“Sho-Sho, you went to school today.”
“Yes, I sure did buddy.”
“Did you borrow my school?”
“No. I have my own school.”
“No! You have to borrow my school!”
“Okay. Well, can I borrow your school!”
“No! You’re on your own! Surprise!”
Both of us just about fell out of our seats laughing. Even when he’s stressed out the kid is outrageous.
Eventually Sho-Sho went home and we watched Madagascar for the 7th time while settling in for bed. Until Kaleb pulled off one of his leads. Thankfully it was one on his temple, so the guy just taped it back down – no glue required, and only a minor meltdown. He finally fell asleep around midnight, fitfully, but asleep. A tech woke me up at 2 – Kaleb had pulled out another lead and this one he had to glue. Oh Hell. Thankfully, someone out there likes me, and Kaleb slept through the entire thing, with only a few twitches and nonsensical mutterings.
Of course, Wednesday is another day. And I’ll write about that tomorrow. For now I have to go chase a naked baby into the bathroom.