To set the stage: all three girls have been sick, Marin got a diaper rash infection a couple weeks ago that brought us to the doctor. We came home from that appointment with prescription ointment. She then brought us back on Monday and we came home with two ear infections and antibiotics.
Ailey's never been on antibiotics. We tried once and, 2 forms of it and 2 flavors later, her ear infection cleared itself up with no help from the one dose we were able to sneak into her pbj. So I really have no experience with the stuff.
Therefore it was only my Mommy Problem-Solving experience that helped me figure out that Silje's diarhea and subsequent diaper rash were probably due to the antibiotic. After a call to the doctor I've tried the past couple days to improve her rear-end while still giving her the medicine. This morning her bum was in such a state that I made another call to the doc and have now taken her off the antibiotic, am rinsing her bottom with water after every poop, air-drying it for 10-15 minutes, and applying the white diaper rash ointment I have religiously stayed away from because it is such a mess to deal with. She is in a lot of pain. Never mind the ear infection, she cries every time she tells me she is poopy!
With that in mind, this has been my day so far.... You don't need to send me any pity, I have enough self-pity surrounding me right now to last quite a while.
This morning I wake up, get up, get dressed and complete other get-ready duties.
I wake Ailey, herd her downstairs and make her breakfast. I make Marin and Silje's morning bottles and head to their room.
Upon entering I know for a fact that Silje is poopy. (I won't describe just how I know.) After the past couple days, I am already dreading putting her on the changing table. I give her the bottle first, then head to the table. She starts crying knowing where we're going.
With one look at her rear-end I grab the phone and dial the doctor's office while I clean her up. After a ten minute conversation and a wait while the nurse consults the doctor, I get my newest instructions. As quickly as is possible, I goop-up, diaper and clothe a crying, writhing Silje and move onto Marin. Then on to help Ailey finish getting ready for preschool.
Upon return to Marin and Silje's room I notice (read: smell) that Silje is poopy again. Armed with my newest doctor instructions I know that, even though we're supposed to leave in 5 mintues to get Ailey to preschool, I have to go through the new diaper routine with Silje.
Silje's clothes off, we head to the bathroom where the novelty of standing in the tub with a sprayer on her distracts her momentarily from the stinging she must feel at the impact of the water on her raw, weepy bottom.
Rinsed we head back to her room to let her air dry for a few mintues. Meanwhile I'm trying to sooth a frustrated Marin who is still holed up in her crib and holler to Ailey to get her socks, shoes and coat on, and her backpack and soccer ball ready to go (it's show-and-tell day).
Ailey, like the softest string of yarn you are trying to push straight on a slippery surface, is about that easy to move when you are trying to get her to do something with a deadline looming. So I am calling out instructions one by one, hoping we will actually make it to preschool
Silje dressed and ready to go, I take her to the car first hoping the change of scenery will make her forget that she needs to poop again. Get Marin and Ailey into the car and notice we're only leaving a few minutes later than normal. Not sure how that happened, but I was relieved.
Ailey gets to preschool. We go home and Marin and Silje have their breakfast. Silje is, of course, poopy when she comes out of her highchair, so we head upstairs to start the diapering routine again.
I'm hoping to leave with enough time to stop at Walgreens to get the ointment the nurse suggested for Silje's bottom. So after changing Marin I am cheering a little when I realize Silje has stayed poop-free for the past couple minutes. We pile into the car and take a little longer than I had hoped at Walgreen's, because now we are late to get Ailey.
We gather all her Easter projects and head to the car. I put Silje in the car with a sniff of her butt ... still poop-free.
We get home and after a few minutes of play-time Silje is poopy again. I give her a snack first knowing I can't go through the whole shower, air-dry, goop routine with Marin sitting alone in her highchair. Luckily, neither of them are very hungry, so it's only a few minutes while they drink some milk.
Then we head upstairs for the now dreaded routine. Silje is definitely in pain and her crying makes it all seem that much worse. But we do what we have to do, this time putting on the ointment we got at Walgreen's.
I change Marin too as it's now nap-time, and ... aaahhh, Silje is poopy again. Poor Marin is just waiting for the shade to go down, the hug-and-kiss, and to snuggle under her blanket. But we have to change Silje again. There's no napping through that noisy distraction.
Silje only gets about 5 minutes to air-dry this time. Marin is mollified with a book. Ointment mess is applied to Silje's still-red-and-weepy bottom, I lay them both down in their cribs, cover them with blankets, and skedaddle out of there as quickly as I can so Silje can fall asleep before she poops again.
Now it's only a little after 1 PM, Ailey is in front of the TV and I still have to go eat something before I get started making her birthday cake.
I realized this morning, mid-chaos, that I am tired. I am tired of kids being sick for the past three weeks. I am tired of dosing out Tylenol, Motrin and antibiotics. I am tired of applying ointment and goop to baby bottoms, because Marin is still on a diaper rash routine as well. I am tired of the poopy-smelling loads of laundry that are never-ending. I am tired of trying to stay patient with the sad, grouchy, and whining. I am just tired.
Though if awareness is the first step, then at least I know I'm on the road to recovery!
Silje only pooped once more the rest of the day. This time on Andy's watch. Maybe we are on the road to recovery.