Day two of the mysterious fever and unknown illness of the two youngest homo sapiens in the house. Slight congestion seems to be apparent, and a low to midgrade fever, along with general malaise. The "Could Be Anything" Bug has struck!
We don't do doctors unless we have to--which generally means being sick longer than 3 days or a high fever or something like that. And we don't have a doctor here, yet. Which will be tricky, because we don't vaccinate. I'm considering selectively vaccinating--perhaps polio--but for the most part, I think the body is pretty amazing and made to heal itself. Of course, I'm not like some religious zealot about it or anything. If someone gets cancer, we're getting the radiation and chemo... WHILE we do all the alternative stuff. (Spitting on the ground twice and knocking fervently on wood after even typing that out loud!)
So I'm hoping the Ibuprofen will be enough to hold off the Could Be Anything Bug long enough for the kids' immune systems to kick in. They both crawled into our bed this morning while hubbie was getting ready for work and made a mommy sandwich, asking for medicine.
But Z said: "Not the pink kind. It makes me pook." That's her version of "puke." She says she hates "pooking." Now, really... who doesn't? But ever since I gave her a dose before I realized it was stomach flu and not just a rumbly tummy and she immediately threw up all over her Strawberry Shortcake sheets, she has continually refused the "pink stuff," believing that it was the medicine that make her vomit. I assured her that she didn't need any of that kind of medicine, dosed them both up with Motrin, and we cuddled in bed to watch Muppets in Space.
Sick days are jammie days, so we didn't get out of ours. Until the phone rang. The -plumber, who was supposed to be here last Friday, but called with a family emergency and rescheduled for Monday, but never showed up or called... finally wanted to come out. Today. About nowish. So much for mommy having a jammie-day, too. I jumped in the shower and started straightening, trying to decide just how much mess was acceptable for the impending plumber visit.
The problem Mr. Plumber was coming to fix was twofold. 1. We have a leak in the ceiling which is just under the bathtub. 2. We have little to no water pressure. For a month I have been waiting 20 minutes for a bathtub to fill up to bathe the kids. I call our morning showers "drizzles." The best I can describe it... if you close your eyes while you're under our shower, you'd swear someone was peeing on your head. It's that bad. So while I was a little miffed at actually having to get showered and dressed today, I was actually looking forward to Mr. Plumber's visit.
Unfortunately, it turned out to be a two minute affair after all my running around-- loading the dishwasher, sweeping junk from the counters into a box and tossing it into the garage, and swishing the toilet bowl brush around that well-water stain in the bottom. He stayed long enough to tell me that it wasn't a problem with the plumbing, it was a problem with the caulking. "Bathrooms are supposed to be waterproof," he said. Well. Really? Duh. "Yours isn't." Um, yeah. We noticed. When I asked about the water pressure, he said, "That's a problem with the well. You need to call a well technician." Oh. And here I thought plumbing was plumbing. Apparently not!
So Mr. Plumber left, none of the problems fixed, and I stood at the front door watching forlornly as he drove away... and that's when I noticed the pumpkin. Well, it's not actually a pumpkin yet... it's just a vine growing out of a pot. The woman who lived here before us planted a pumpkin for us "for the little ones," she said. I thought it was sweet. I had never really considered how long pumpkin vines grow. Guess I should have paid more attention during those Charlie Brown specials? Not only that, but they're very pokey. I went out because I noticed some brown leaves near the top that I figured I should pull off... but ouch! Prickly little suckers!
I have no idea if it will actually grow a pumpkin or not. Even if it does, I have a feeling she planted it rather late. From what I'm reading, we should have fruit already... and there's nothing I can see that resembles a pumpkin. But it's kind of fun to watch the vine trailing along the side of the porch, getting bigger every day. It's rather strange and alien. Of course, growing things in general are all a bit odd to me. The thought that there might be something attached to that spikey vine that we could consume? Weird!
Of course, I'm the mom who said, "That's true" when my youngest answered the question, "Where does milk come from?" with "The store!" This whole living in the country thing really is going to take some getting used to...
Anyone know a good well-technician in the area?
That's okay... all I have to do is go next door and ask the neighbors...! :)
We don't do doctors unless we have to--which generally means being sick longer than 3 days or a high fever or something like that. And we don't have a doctor here, yet. Which will be tricky, because we don't vaccinate. I'm considering selectively vaccinating--perhaps polio--but for the most part, I think the body is pretty amazing and made to heal itself. Of course, I'm not like some religious zealot about it or anything. If someone gets cancer, we're getting the radiation and chemo... WHILE we do all the alternative stuff. (Spitting on the ground twice and knocking fervently on wood after even typing that out loud!)
So I'm hoping the Ibuprofen will be enough to hold off the Could Be Anything Bug long enough for the kids' immune systems to kick in. They both crawled into our bed this morning while hubbie was getting ready for work and made a mommy sandwich, asking for medicine.
But Z said: "Not the pink kind. It makes me pook." That's her version of "puke." She says she hates "pooking." Now, really... who doesn't? But ever since I gave her a dose before I realized it was stomach flu and not just a rumbly tummy and she immediately threw up all over her Strawberry Shortcake sheets, she has continually refused the "pink stuff," believing that it was the medicine that make her vomit. I assured her that she didn't need any of that kind of medicine, dosed them both up with Motrin, and we cuddled in bed to watch Muppets in Space.
Sick days are jammie days, so we didn't get out of ours. Until the phone rang. The -plumber, who was supposed to be here last Friday, but called with a family emergency and rescheduled for Monday, but never showed up or called... finally wanted to come out. Today. About nowish. So much for mommy having a jammie-day, too. I jumped in the shower and started straightening, trying to decide just how much mess was acceptable for the impending plumber visit.
The problem Mr. Plumber was coming to fix was twofold. 1. We have a leak in the ceiling which is just under the bathtub. 2. We have little to no water pressure. For a month I have been waiting 20 minutes for a bathtub to fill up to bathe the kids. I call our morning showers "drizzles." The best I can describe it... if you close your eyes while you're under our shower, you'd swear someone was peeing on your head. It's that bad. So while I was a little miffed at actually having to get showered and dressed today, I was actually looking forward to Mr. Plumber's visit.
Unfortunately, it turned out to be a two minute affair after all my running around-- loading the dishwasher, sweeping junk from the counters into a box and tossing it into the garage, and swishing the toilet bowl brush around that well-water stain in the bottom. He stayed long enough to tell me that it wasn't a problem with the plumbing, it was a problem with the caulking. "Bathrooms are supposed to be waterproof," he said. Well. Really? Duh. "Yours isn't." Um, yeah. We noticed. When I asked about the water pressure, he said, "That's a problem with the well. You need to call a well technician." Oh. And here I thought plumbing was plumbing. Apparently not!
So Mr. Plumber left, none of the problems fixed, and I stood at the front door watching forlornly as he drove away... and that's when I noticed the pumpkin. Well, it's not actually a pumpkin yet... it's just a vine growing out of a pot. The woman who lived here before us planted a pumpkin for us "for the little ones," she said. I thought it was sweet. I had never really considered how long pumpkin vines grow. Guess I should have paid more attention during those Charlie Brown specials? Not only that, but they're very pokey. I went out because I noticed some brown leaves near the top that I figured I should pull off... but ouch! Prickly little suckers!
I have no idea if it will actually grow a pumpkin or not. Even if it does, I have a feeling she planted it rather late. From what I'm reading, we should have fruit already... and there's nothing I can see that resembles a pumpkin. But it's kind of fun to watch the vine trailing along the side of the porch, getting bigger every day. It's rather strange and alien. Of course, growing things in general are all a bit odd to me. The thought that there might be something attached to that spikey vine that we could consume? Weird!
Of course, I'm the mom who said, "That's true" when my youngest answered the question, "Where does milk come from?" with "The store!" This whole living in the country thing really is going to take some getting used to...
Anyone know a good well-technician in the area?
That's okay... all I have to do is go next door and ask the neighbors...! :)
1 comment:
Sorry to hear the kiddos are sick...that's never fun. We have a two day rule about the doctor as well...more than half the time when you take them, they tell you whatever is wrong is viral and just needs to run its course. I hope they are feeling better.
The pumpkins should already have fruit on them, but you might get a baby green one by the time October rolls around anyway if you have a flower now.
Your milk story sounds like the time Z saw me making cookies. He told me I couldn't possibly be making cookies because I didn't go to the store and buy a roll of dough. Ha!
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