The hospital...

So, I haven't blogged in awhile because Sarah ended up in the hospital for a fever, yet again, and I was away from home for about a week. We have been home for a week, but it always takes a week to get Sarah back into her normal routine. I have heard tell from the nurses that this is the case with many parents who call the hospital their "home away from home" as we do. Bottom line, the hospital is sort of a vacuum, an alternate universe where time does not exist. Unless she has a roommate, Sarah can be up at 3 am, eating, and it's perfectly okay because she's not disturbing anyone but me. The nurses find it endearing, because they slept all day. I even find it endearing, because I have learned that when in the hospital, it is best to go back into "newborn mode"...sleep while she sleeps, or forever hold your peace...Then we get home, and it's not so cute when she wants to eat at 3 am, or when she stays awake until midnight when i have to get up at 5 am...

Not that we were getting that much sleep in the hospital. Because of her fevers, Sarah gets her vitals checked every two hours. If she has a fever, she gets Tylenol every four hours. Now, Sarah is so used to this that she can sleep right through it, blood pressure, temperature, even the meds. But me, they have to inform me of everything that's going on, which I appreciate, but it's not doing much for me by way of sleep. Now, most nurses are stealthy as ninjas, come in, do what they have to do, silently and in the dark, and leave without you ever knowing they were there. Some will even change the baby's diaper. This is the best kind of nurse, the kind I thank God for every night in my prayers. Then, Lord bless them, there are the kind of nurses that seem to crash into everything, make as much noise as possible, and wake me up needlessly to tell me unnecessary things. "Mrs. Gomez, I left her medication right there so you can give it to her when she wakes up." Um...yeah...if she doesn't need to take it NOW, why the @#$% are you waking me up? I will wake up LATER, make her take it LATER, and if I have any questions I will call you! Jeez...I don't know whose brilliant idea it was to make the staff play Skip to my Lou, (for some reason, they make the nurses rotate every so often now, so nurses from other floors and departments work in Oncology now) but it was a HORRIBLE idea! These are usually the nurses who wake me up, give me useless information, and enforce stupid rules from other floors onto me.

So, a week of this, and Sarah is happy as a clam because they treat her like a princess and she sleeps whenever she wants, and Momma is ready to kill everyone because I'm missing a week's worth of shuteye. Then, God smiles down on me, and we get to come home! Yay! But Sarah is not so happy because she knows that as soon as we get home, things go back to normal, and that is not good.

So here we are, a week after being home, and only tonight did I get Sarah to go to bed on time and stay in bed. This whole ordeal with getting her to sleep would be HILARIOUS if it wasn't happening to me. It goes a little something like this lately:

8:00 pm-I start warning Sarah that it's almost time for her bath, so it's last call for snacks and playing. She throws a fit, screams "NO!!!!" then throws a Barbie or two across the room, and today, as an added bonus, she threw a chair. Lovely. I make her go to her mad corner, she goes, comes back two seconds later all smiles.

8:15-I tell Sarah it is now time to pick up her toys and get ready for her bath. Again, she screams "NO!!!" throws less toys than before, but still throws at least one, then bursts into tears and cries, "I don't WANT to take a bath!" I ignore her, she gets the hint and begins to pick up her toys, then announces proudly, "I did it, Momma!"

8:20ish-Meds, then we make our way to our room, where she starts playing with the toys in there, while I pull some pajama choices out of the drawer. I ask her which, she ignores me because she is playing with her toys. I give up after asking her three times to come and choose, and pick a pair myself. Sarah comes along, and says, "No, Momma, not that one!" Grrr...

8:25ish-Sarah picks out three or four books she wants me to read, NOW, when she knows story time is after bath and before bed, and I have already told her five times that she gets only one book before bed. She relents without a fight, (thank GOD!) and chooses one book. She picks a towel, makes me put it on my head, and we march in a line toward the bathroom.

8:30-I give Sarah her bath, which takes five minutes for all practical purposes, but thirty minutes while she plays with Creepella and the other mermaids.

9:00 pm-I pull Sarah out of the bath, put her pajamas on, brush her teeth, all the while trying to move fast enough to match the commands she is barking at me like this is Baby Boot Camp. "Put cream on my belly! I need socks! Where's my chupie?!"

9:05-Storytime...I read one book, preferably a short one, and Sarah is content. I finish, announce bedtime, and she insists on another. Not wanting to curb her enthusiasm for literature, I relent and read at least one more book, then end up reading the whole stack she picked out before her bath. Sigh.

9:15 (if I'm lucky)-Sarah finally climbs into bed, I cover her up, give her a hug and a kiss, and make sure she has everything she needs.

9:16 "I have to go potty."

9:17 (in the bathroom still) "i'm not done yet!" (She has been sitting there doing nothing, wants to chat, read her books, all of which I have denied, then get fed up and try to pull her off the potty.)

9:18-Sarah gives up, we wash up, replace the pull-up she has already peed in (regression in potty training is another lovely side-effect of our hospital stays), and I settle her back in bed.

9:20 "I want chocolate milk."
9:21-After a short argument, I make my way to the kitchen for the @#$% chocolate milk...
9:22-Sarah is quietly drinking her chocolate milk
9:24-"My legs hurt. I need Vick's."
9:30-"My tummy hurts."
9:31-"I have to go potty"
9:40-clean up and back to bed after another fruitless potty attempt.
I could go on, but imagine another THREE HOURS OF THIS, and finally, she drifts off to sleep around midnight. Keep in mind, if I deny her anything she has asked for, she throws a screaming fit, which gets louder the longer I ignore it, but ignoring it seems to be the only way to get it to stop. Being forceful only seems to escalate it. So, needless to say that by midnight, I am EXHAUSTED!!! I think she's worn herself out, too, because tonight she went down without a fight and has stayed asleep the entire time, and it is now 11:30. Success!!! Only took me a week...but now I can't sleep! Hence, the lengthy blog...oh, well...did I mention that she is not only asleep, but in her own bed? I suppose I should be thankful for the little things...and get to bed before she decides to wake up! :)