I was in bed on Friday night just after 9:30. I've been an absolute grump the past week, and mostly because I am just absolutely exhausted, so I needed to catch up on some sleep. My mind was racing though, and I know I laid there a good 20 minutes or more trying to calm my mind. I was up at 5:26 Saturday morning and nope not because of Tate; I seem to have reset my internal clock and I now awaken by 5:30 almost every single morning.
Totally sucks.
I try to be absolutely still so as to not bother Tate (another reason to move him downstairs to his room post haste) because he's just cycling through his last sleep cycle and is usually turning over, and if I move he pops up to start the day. So I try to stifle sneezes and sniffs, hold 'it' so he doesn't hear me getting out and back in the bed and not turn over. He popped up this morning, looked for his blanket and thankfully laid right back down and dozed back off. I on the other hand did not go back to sleep. When he did finally wake up at 6:10 I handed over my Macbook, opened Safari up to YouTube and his precious train videos and his new favorite 'Super Why'; I turned over and slept until 7:22!!
Bliss!!!
He managed to work the mousepad and not break my Mac. Awesome morning!
We finally rolled out of bed and made our way downstairs for breakfast. Tate was thrilled because he got to have Tiger Cheerios AKA Frosted Flakes. He had them for the first time a few weeks ago and promptly gave them that name. His normal breakfast is Cheerios in milk, plain yogurt and I mean plain and plain (again nothing added) oatmeal. So Tiger Cheerios are a real treat.
We got dressed and headed out of the house by 8:45.
First stop...Mr. Kirk for a haircut! Tate has asked numerous times to get his haircut the past couple of weeks, and I finally got around to it. Kirk is great...he's got three almost grown sons...26, 20 and 16. The oldest starts medical school this fall!! We've been coming here since Tate got his first haircut at 14 months. And he's always sat in the chair by himself. This is not Cool Cuts for Kids...it's a real barbershop. I was told to take a son to a barber for a haircut, and I'm so glad I did. Men know men and boys. Tate doesn't need any fancy videos or silly animals to sit on. He does just fine sitting on the booster getting his haircut like a man :) Other men come in and just hang out, while others wait to get their haircut. They talk about manly things...basketball, baseball, football :), the state of black America today, Paula Dean! today and Aaron Hernandez :(. The gentleman after Tate today was a Houston firefighter. A tall, nice looking, well spoken dark skinned Black American man who is a firefighter. In Houston. We talked about the fire on the 31st and the four lives lost. He talked about how he's decided he doesn't want to die like that and leave his wife and 4 year old daughter behind. He talked about how he gets frustrated with his wife who willingly (according to him!) will let him leave for work after a disagreement and not want to settle it or make up when he might not come back the next day. While the 3 of us talked, Tate was finished up and started running around, but he listened. I know he listened and heard.
 |
| He surely needed a cut! |
 |
| Doesn't it feel good to have your hair combed? |
 |
| Whoa! Is that me in the mirror? |
 |
| Let's get this going! |
 |
| So so still for the trimmer! |
 |
| Time to pay up! |
 |
| Handsome guy! |
 |
| Couldn't have cared less about the sun beating down on him! |
We then made our way to lunch at 'The French Fry Place' per Tate AKA Barnaby's. This time Tate of his own accord promised to eat some of his grilled cheese and not just french fries. I am proud to say he ate one whole fourth of his grilled cheese sandwich, dipping each bite in ketchup. I'm also very proud of him because we waited 30 minutes for our food. We arrived just after 11 and they had just stopped making breakfast. So there was a little down time as they turned the kitchen around, and they took special care since I reminded our waiter of Tate's egg allergy. Tate was awesome...he colored, read his magazine, talked to me, gave me hugs over the table and never once got up or stood up on the chair. Love this little boy!
 |
| So proud of him for really working on coloring within the lines these days! |
 |
| Reading his Junior National Geographic; his papa got him a subscription. |
 |
| Moving the magazine over to make room for the french fries. And grilled cheese! |
 |
| First train we saw! Javier! Ok so that's what I named this train when we rode it in Berlin last year as Tate thinks all trains have names. I would love to get this for him but it's over $400!! |
 |
| This train, this train elicited the first tantrum/ meltdown he's ever had about wanting something. When I refused to buy it he cried, stamped his feet and was just so very upset. "But I want it Mommy, I just want it. It's my favorite" Sigh. $410 favorite. |
 |
| It is pretty impressive. Maybe someday. |
 |
| The gentleman helping us, Eddie, turned the model train on for Tate who was beyond thrilled. |
 |
| He settled for this Emily HO train set. |
 |
| Polar Expresses Mommy! |
 |
| And the always favorite...train table!!! |
While he played for about 20 minutes I talked to Eddie. What a wealth of information this Vietnam veteran was. And he talked my ear off...I heard his life story practically, but I loved it. I oohed and aahed even when I wasn't sure quite where or when he was talking about. He was born in Houston, Mississippi and moved to Houston, Texas in 1958. He went to Reagan High School, but skipped school alot to go down to the train yard. He joined the armed forces in '67 and was shipped to Nam from Guantanamo Bay in '69. Came home and flipped a coin to see if he was gonna go work for UPS or the train yard. Heads came up and he went to work at the train yard for 20 years. Katy, Texas is named for the Katy railroad (I didn't know this). UP was big here until they were bought out; I can't remember by who and I assume UP is Union Pacific. At some point he drove a truck all over the country for an Islamic religious art tour, taking the display cases out and setting them up at each location. Now this man is not one you would take to be open-minded from first glance, but he taught me alot about first impressions this afternoon. I was a bit worried about driving up to Porter, Texas, me and my son being black. I don't know why, but whenever I leave the big city and go through or stop in these small towns a part of me is always concerned. God knows my heart and finds it well to put someone like Eddie in my path on days like today.
I'll definitely be going back. Eddie gave me their card with the name of the owner and his hours, so I can order Tate's Polar Express in time for Christmas, and he was sure to tell me about their layaway plan. He also put his own hours on there as he runs the train department, so I can be sure to come back on days he's there. He also adjusted the price of Tate's train for me.
God is good.
We made it back home and seeing as how it was a tad warm outside, we stopped and got Tate some ice cream from the Marble Slab.
 |
| 2:30pm |
We came home and I put his train together. I got a little frustrated with him, and I shouldn't have. This is an electric train set. It's meant for kids 8 and up. Tate cannot touch the tracks as they're hot, just like the tracks on the models. Cause yes this is a model train set. I went ahead and set it up on the floor as I have nowhere else to put it, but we're going to have to reinforce the 'Don't Touch' message quite a few times I believe. I did unplug it as soon as he finished watching it go round and round for 45 minutes straight...I did let him have the control to manage the speed. I must say, he did great and never touched the tracks, but he doesn't understand he can't play with the train on the floor by itself. A work in progress.
He was asleep by 7:40, not without some drama and some terse words from me. I know he was tired, yet he found it funny to piddle around on the bed, moving all his animals and the such all around, sitting up, laying this way, laying that way. I held onto my patience as long as I could before I got him by the arm and told him in no uncertain terms to lay down and go to sleep. Big tears and sadness and he laid down, hurt. I laid down beside him and calmed myself...why do I get so frustrated when he's just trying to play? Yet I want him to learn that when it's time for bed, it's time for bed. Because no matter how tired he is, he will play around, taking forever to fall asleep. If I lay down with him he usually falls asleep within 10-15 minutes. If I don't he'll take 30-45 minutes (of course this is on days he doesn't nap; when he does nap I lay down with him for 10 minutes and leave the room with strict instructions to not get out of bed!! Because I cannot lay there for 45-60 minutes. I put him down about 30 minutes later, hoping he'll fall asleep sooner than later...sigh) When do I get to stop obsessing about his sleep habits?
Apparently, Sunday morning :). Tate didn't wake up until 6:32 on Sunday morning! I, on the other hand, opened my eyeballs at 4:24, most unhappily. A few sneezes and sniffles later, and I went back to sleep. Until 6:32!! Woo to the hoo!! We lazed around in bed until about 7:45, thereby rendering church impossible, but I so wanted to revel in my good night's sleep (I went to bed right at 10 Saturday night). At breakfast I asked Tate what he wanted to do for the day. Bad idea.
"I want to go ride the train at the zoo Mommy. And then I want to go ride the carousel and see the animals. Because we didn't do that yesterday Mommy."
It was 8:24 am and 82 degrees already. I didn't see a train, zoo and carousel in our future. Our hot future.
I convinced him to go ride the train at the Downtown Aquarium. I figured we could get there in 10 minutes or less and it would be easy parking and relatively empty right at 10 am! He wasn't thrilled with the idea initially, but I talked it up and we were off!
We got there right after they opened, purchased our tickets and got in line for the ..........
TRAIN!!! The Shark Voyage Train!!
We then rode the carousel, and Tate wondered when we were going to see the animals. He was less than pleased that there were no animals, but he quickly moved on.
We then made our way to our car to go to the grocery store and headed home for some lunch.
Oh and for a nap. As we left the grocery store Tate said "I want to go home Mommy. I want to eat my lunch and take a nap. I want pizza cake (cheese quesadilla), broccoli, yogurt and milk Mommy. And then I want to take a nap."
Wow! He wanted to take a nap. I suppose that old adage of sleep begets sleep is really true. He slept 11 hours last night and wanted more sleep. I was so glad he wanted more sleep, though I worried he wouldn't sleep well Sunday night. My plan was to just 'rest' and I was going to let him watch 'The Polar Express' with me on the couch, figuring if he really needed to sleep he would, otherwise just a bit of calmness in the middle of the day would be a great idea.
I now know I should be careful what I wish for.
I use frozen broccoli; I put a small portion into a bowl, add about a tablespoon of water and microwave for 40 seconds. And voila! Perfect broccoli that he laps up. So I cooked the broccoli, while I got the cheese arranged on the tortilla. As the broccoli dinged since it was done, Tate came into the kitchen to help 'make his pizza cake'. He likes to push the buttons on the microwave and watch the cheese bubble. I took the broccoli out of the microwave, put it on the counter and put the tortilla with the cheese in the microwave. I picked Tate up to stand on the counter so he could reach the buttons. Just as I was setting him down I thought to myself "he's gonna knock the broccoli over; I should move it." I reached around him to move it just as he put his entire foot into the bowl of steaming hot broccoli and water.
Oh the screams. It was horrible.
Thank God he had on a sock.
As he was screaming I managed to get the sock off, all the while thinking this can't be that bad.
Was I ever wrong.
His skin was bubbling up and sloughy looking. I immediately grabbed an ice pack, though worried the cold would add to the sensation of burning, and put it on his little foot. I gave hugs and kisses then ran into the pantry to grab some Ibuprofen. As I squinted trying to read the damn teeny tiny print to be sure of the correct dose I comforted as best I could. (Why the hell is the print on these bottles so very small?????) I gave him a teaspoon (100mg) and tried to look at his foot some more. We went into the living room and I tried to get a better look. It looked like a second or third degree burn to my untrained eye. I decided to make a trip to our local ER. Tate was just screaming and screaming "Ouchie Ouchie Mommy!! OOOOWWWWIIIEEEE!!" Poor baby was drooling he was in so much pain. I started to get a little panicked. I called Lindsey and asked her to meet us there over Tate's screaming because I was worried if he didn't calm down I wouldn't be able to hear what the doctors said. Thank God for Aunt Lindsey. She arrived at the ER two minutes after we did. I lost it when she walked into our room, tears streaming down my face. She took charge of the situation, sitting down and proceeding to tell me and Tate how she's been burned lots of times (once while in our mommy's care when the iron was left on and she rubbed up against it; which reminds me I was burned in our mommy's care too when at 9 months old I toppled over my mommy's full coffee cup onto my right calf!) She stayed with us the whole time...she's so damn awesome.
Tate fussed and cried almost the entire time. The sweet nurse put an ice pack on it as soon as we arrived, and this did seem to help. The doc came in and said it was a second degree burn. Gave him some Tylenol w/Codeine amidst Tate's whimpering. After about 15 minutes the nurse came back in to slather some silvadene on the wound and bandage him up. Poor Tate was almost asleep, but woke up for that :(. We got all checked out; Lindsey dropped our prescriptions off at the pharmacy and Tate and I came home with our discharge instructions. He cried the whole way home, but not the big cries he had on the way over there. I carried him back inside and we sat in the rocking chair because he still wanted to nap.
He should have been exhausted plus he had all that codeine coursing through him. After about 30 minutes of rocking and laying in the bed together he pronounced his foot all better and wanted to come back downstairs for some lunch.
He promptly sat down to watch some 'Super Y' while I made him some lunch. Sat down on his foot with nary a peep.
He scarfed down a bit of quesadilla, a container of yogurt and oh yes the offending broccoli.
We hung out, did puzzles, he played trains, I cut up fruit for the week, got his bags and stuff ready for the week then we ran out to pick up his prescriptions. Once home I gave him a dose of Ibuprofen and washed my hair while he watched Mickey Mouse Christmas songs (he's had more tv today than in his lifetime!!!)
We ate dinner together and then we headed upstairs to get ready for bed. I decided he didn't need to bathe tonight, but I had to convince him he had to have his foot bandaged for bedtime. He did not want a bandage of any sort. But I cajoled, convinced and urged him that he needed to so it wouldn't hurt over night. I gave him one dose of the Tylenol with Codeine to piggy back the Ibuprofen because I know he'll be hurting overnight. I know because in 1985, my freshman year in college, I suffered 2nd degree burns on all the fingers of my right hand in Inorganic Chemistry lab. I was miserable. Absolutely miserable. As I listened to poor Tate scream and cry today, I knew exactly how he felt. Made worse by the fact that his skin is so very new and so very 'unused.' My sweet boy. Those first 24 hours were awful. Then I look at Tate running around playing this afternoon, barely limping...the only sign he's favoring his foot is that he keeps it covered when he's not moving with his hippo lovey (I removed the bandage around 2:30 to get some air on it, and he was hating the bandage anyway). Other than that I wouldn't know he'd suffered such a trauma this morning.
We got teeth brushed, a Curious George story read, some silvadene on his foot along with a huge bandage after taking some photos of his burn.
These are from this evening around 7:30pm.
These are from earlier today, around 2:30pm
Poor baby. But he's soldiering on. As I was getting the bandages out he started to cry a bit and said "I'm sorry I put my foot in the broccoli Mommy." "I don't want to do that again Mommy." "Please don't put the broccoli on the counter again, ok Mommy."
My heart aches. I told him he didn't need to apologize first of all, that it was an accident. That I was sorry I wasn't careful enough, but that accidents happen, just like in the Thomas song. I told him next time we make pizza cake the broccoli will be somewhere else. I gathered him in my arms and hugged him tight.
We read the story and laid down together in the bed. He tossed a bit, complaining about the bandage, but I promised him he needed it. He curled up next to me and fell asleep within minutes.
I never want to see Tate in that much pain again, though I know that's probably not possible in his lifetime. Today I despaired being a single mommy because initially I had noone to help me calm him down and I was horrified trying to figure out how I was going to handle the ER with a screaming kid when I needed to focus on what I was being told. But I've got my amazing village. My AMAZING village. Tate and me, we're never really on our own. There are people out there who love us dearly and come through time and time again.
God is good.
 |
| Dreaming of the Polar Express |
1 comment:
Poor Tate! And poor Jen!
Sorry you had to go through this but glad he's feeling better already.
Post a Comment