When We Are In This Together

The girls have staph infections.

There. I said it. I admitted it to the world. And it makes me feel like crap. Good moms don’t let this happen.

I should have known earlier that the infected bug bites Rilla has been battling all summer were not going to go away on their own. I should have known the red bumps on her butt were more than just sensitive skin baby rash. I should have paid closer attention to the ginormous bite on Juliet’s belly. I just should have been….better.

So the bites are deflating, and everyone is itching less. But that is only because we have an oral medication twice a day, ointment three-times a day regimen that is making me beg for school to start again.

If we mix the medicine with chocolate syrup, Juliet offers to take both hers and her sisters. But Rilla? She ain’t having it. It is like wrestling a screaming mountain lion cub. And I’ve been on every mommy message board and tried every suggestion on the entire internet (Ask her nicely worked for you? Well isn’t that just precious.) and still every morning and night, two tablespoons of the pink stuff go in and out of her mouth, in her hair, on my clothes, on the kitchen floor, anywhere but in her little system to do all the good anti-biotic magic.

The suggestions aren’t helping. They just make me feel worse. But you know what did help? Hearing that when my husband asked his professor for tips he shrugged his shoulders and said “don’t get your finger bitten off.” Apparently, the professor’s attempts at giving his three-year old medicine resulted in an open wound. Knowing I am not in this alone makes me feel better. It makes the wild wrestling on the floor of my kitchen as the pink stuff flies all over the floor just a little bit more bearable.

I posted yesterday, about this season of hard faith I am walking through. Everything feels just out of grasp. And the comments section were a healing balm. I got no pieces of advice, no helpful suggestions. I got offers of prayers and the ever holy “me too.” The writing it all out, the exposing the thoughts to light had helped, but the me too’s brought healing.

Isn’t that always how it is? Aren’t my thoughts like bumps in the night, terrifying when left in the dark by myself but totally understandable in the light, almost laughable with a friend. Let’s do this thing together, shall we?

________________________________________________________________

In the spirit of doing this thing together, in a brave and stupid act a few months ago I decided to go visit my family via airplane, with the girls, by myself. I am freaking out, we leave tomorrow morning. Prayers appreciated.

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9 thoughts on “When We Are In This Together

  1. Apparently wordpress doesn’t want me posting, so I’ll try this again. There are two products that may help with staph. One, Melaleuca, I know helps a lot, especially the oil. Our friend used it on her two young boys to get theirs under control. Another I just learned about today is pascalite clay. if you go to pascalite dot com you can learn more about it. A trusted friend told me about it just a few hours ago. It might help with the sores as well and reduce the need for medication in the future.

    Good luck!

  2. When my boys were the ages of your daughters, there was a fellow called “The Children’s Doctor,” who wrote a book of the same name. Dr. T. Barry Brazleton. There were two things I took to heart from that book: if your children have friends, they will have the myriad of childhood infestations – pinworms, head lice, etc. – and is not reflection on your mothering ability; forget about sleeping – by the time you no longer wakefully worry about sick children, they are teen agers and there is a new set of worries, then when you get through all those worries and your children are successfully raised, you have aches and pains of your own to prevent a good night’s sleep.

  3. Me too. Me too. Me too.

    No quick fixes. This is hard.

    I remember when my littlest was a baby, she hated having her diaper changed. She was like a wet Tasmanian devil covered in gross. It was torture everyday, but somedays I’d get to hear my husband yell out “I’m trying to help you!!! Help me, help you!” Nothing made me feel better about my own daily struggles than his frustrated battle cry. 🙂 thank you God for empathy and humor.

  4. You are a wonderful mother, among the best of us who have also tackled staph infections. Bacteria is everywhere, including on my children and yours. 🙂 As for the medicine, all I have to offer you is a “good luck”, “God speed”, and “this, too, shall pass”. My youngest will only take it in “little bits” as we say while offering her minuscule dregs of the pink stuff. Your daughter may grow up to be like me, who was a kindergartner swallowing pills because I detested the stuff so! You could always give a call to your pharmacist and see if they have any alternatives–could you get pills and halve them, slipping them into her food to swallow? In a piece of cheese (like I do with my dog!)? Best of luck and prayers. You’re doing a fantastic job, mom.

  5. Did you try explaining to her rationally and logically the science behind the antibiotics? Hmmm – that didn’t work? Did you pull up images on Google of people who have lost LIMBS from staph infections? What??? She didn’t care? I say you lie and tell your family that pre-planning starts tomorrow!!!

    I’m visiting family in Maine. On day 13 – ALMOST as much fun as a staph infection 🙂

    See you next week!

    Val xo

    Sent from my iPad

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