the wiener mom and life in the sick lane

The sick lane? That's like slower than the slow lane. You do not move. I'm speaking in tongues. Let me rewind.

Last week all is fine and dandy in wiener world until Daddy wiener and I are awoke by screaming in the night. It's middle wiener and I handily pretend not to hear, so Daddy Wiener (bless him) gets up and goes to see what the hell is up. It's not good news, I know that immediately from the way he calls my name. Real menacing like, you know?

So, there has been a vomiting event. A large, chunky, red vomiting event in bed. On the bed, sheets, pillow, comforter, every single one of those damn backyardigans and of course, all over the wiener. Middle wiener doesn't tolerate things well. Just generally, it's a rule. So, if you throw something like this at him...
I do not do well with vomit. I do not like vomit; it has something to do with my super human sense of smell (both a gift and a curse). The vomiting event thus repeats itself at 6, with another showing at 6:15. So, middle wiener can not go to school.

The vomiting is gone... and has been replaced by rancid poo. The watery, explosive type. So, middle wiener still can't go to school and now I get to spend my days changing pull ups and lifting him up onto the potty every 10 minutes. His life sucks, my life sucks, it all just sucks.

What could make any of this worse? Now, little wiener awakes in the night barking like a seal. He's got a fever, how high I'm unsure. He hates having his temperature taken and insists on ripping the thermometer out of his armpit. I'm pretty sure that a rectal wouldn't go any better.

A phone call to the nurse about not one wiener, but two. Pick one, any one... It's little wiener. Apt. at 2:30. Daddy wiener has to ride his bike home like the wind to stay with middle wiener. I don't feel like risking a explosive poo accident at the Dr's office. I just don't.

Little wiener has croup. The "will my child make it through the night or will they die gasping for air" virus that every parent loves. So, now I get to lay awake praying that little wiener continues to breath and bark.

It's the weekend and I am just barely hanging on. More explosive poo! More fevers and barking! It's like a big sick party.

Now, we seem to be on the upswing, finally. It's like coming out from under a huge cloud of germs. I am starting to feel like a human being again. It's hard to explain to someone who's never been there, but being stuck at home with sick children has got to be one of the most isolating positions to be in. You can't go anywhere. You're totally out of your routine. No one wants to be near you. There is no escape. But, like I said I see the light. We seem to be not exactly symptom free, but closer than we were yesterday. Middle wiener WILL go to school tomorrow. He must.

So, the light's getting brighter, unless I'm just having a febrile hallucination myself. must go lie down.

the wiener mom's quote of the day

"Sorry Mom, I couldn't hear you: I was peeing too loud!"

the wiener mom has a few nice things to say about someone special

As far as wiener moms go, I am a lucky one. I am very lucky to have a very special wiener in my life. Of course, all my wieners are special, but the one less talked about one is extra special. He doesn't try to pull his penis off (not that he'll admit). He doesn't need extra help reading. He doesn't like to sit in the window and watch the traffic go by (waiting, just waiting to see a BUH!) He doesn't really do anything too newsworthy or entertaining for that matter. He's Daddy Wiener! Round of Applause!

Daddy wiener is the best daddy wiener that I know; have known or will know. YOU wanna make something of it? Let's go. He has always been a great husband and continues to be better each day (blah, blah, romance crap). But he is really and truly the best father any wiener or wiener mom could ask for.

The other day at preschool drop-off, I'm standing by middle wiener's locker waiting a painfully loooooong time for him to take his outerwear off. There are two moms that I know only casually conversing a couple lockers down. I hear snippets like this:
He doesn't lift a finger.
The division of labor is like set (like,totally?).
If he helps one of the kids brush their teeth, he thinks he's doing me a favor.
He's never (!) put one of the kids to bed on his own.
He never does anything, so eventually I just do everything.

I am horrified. First of all, if any of this stuff (like) ever went down in my house; some serious daddy wiener ass would be kicked.
Second, I can't imagine living like that; without a partner, with another child to take care of. What a sad, sad life. Parenting should be a partnership, not you do all the work and he breezes in to play video games and wrestle.

So, I once again (as I periodically do) came to the revelation that I am indeed a very lucky wiener mom. Daddy wiener does it all; I mean it all. He does an absolute equal amount of parenting as I do and probably a little more housework, if we're being shamefully truthful (kiss, kiss, if you're reading this D.W.)
He encourages me to leave the house, sans wieners. He disciplines. He takes over when he can tell I'm ready to walk out (and may or may not return, sometimes it's dicey). All in all, he's perfect.

So, if you're reading this Daddy Wiener (which I know you are, because you always do -PERFECT!!) I love you and thank you for being all around wonderful and not at all an a-hole.

P.S. he does have one fault, but I guess it's not really a fault. He breathes a lot when he sleeps. I guess it's his right and all, but simmer down over there D.W.

the wiener mom finds out all the wonderful things you can do with a wiener

Middle wiener: Mommy, my glasses are dirty. (hands glasses to the wiener mom)
wiener mom: How did they get so dirty? (as she starts spit cleaning them)
Middle wiener: I put my penis on them.
Really? Really?

[Middle wiener in the bathtub]
Middle wiener: Look, mommy I can stick this lego guy to my penis!
Really? Really?

You can stretch it! But you can't pull it off (see previous post-a very short play)!
You can twist it! You can jam it up into itself (apparently)!
You can compare the size of it to the size of another wiener's wiener!
Oh the fun you can have with a wiener!

like the wiener mom needs this stress

So, Santa (the bastard) brought the wieners an aquarium. Not just any aquarium, but a 40 gallon aquarium. Why start small, right? The bigger the aquarium, the easier it is to keep clean (allegedly). It has something to do with surface area and volume and some other mathematical terms that I blanked out on. I'm all for easy. Fish- easy, right? Right?

Not so much apparently. We begin with starter fish; in other words, really small, boring fish that are very hardy. They set the healthy bacteria level in the water. Blah, blah, blah, more words I blank out on-this time science. Hardy equals easy right? Once again, right?

It seems that our particular aquarium is a death trap for starter fish. We lost 4 out of the 6. But, in our defense it wasn't really our fault. No, really. We had a bully fish that picked on other fish until they just died in order to be left alone. So we were down to 2 fish and then had to wait a month before we could get more (read bigger and better) fish.

We had our water tested and everything was good to go. We chose 4 very hardy (please let this be easy) fish. Little did we know just how easy one of them turned out to be. Mrs. Platy had to go and get herself knocked up by Mr. Platy.

Side note: One Platy continuously poking the other in the side with a modified penis fin = babies 6 weeks later. Google it if you must.

So now just about 6 weeks later we have a full aquarium (15 fish) and Mrs. Platy about to give birth. What will happen then you ask?
She will give birth to live fish, called fry (hee-hee) and then all the other fish will eat them. The end.

Just the perfect lesson for little wieners everywhere. I looked into the other options, but they involved a lot of effort and a lot of money. Like say, getting a separate tank, filter and heater for the mother, until she gives birth. Then, getting her out asap, so she doesn't eat her own young. If you have enough plants and other hiding spots some of the fry might live amongst the cannibals. So, we're going that route. Hope for the best and all that.

Now Mrs. Platy is in the process of finding the perfect place to give birth; she's trying out different locations around the tank; in the green plant, under the orange plant, in Catfish Stevens' secret lair. Meanwhile, Mr. Platy and his sidekick Swordtail are nervously following her around and trying to get all up in her business. You'd think they cared, instead of just hangning around waiting for dinner.

So, how does this possibly cause the wiener mom stress? Let nature take it's course right? It's driving me nuts. I'm constantly checking for spawn. I'm trying to gauge her level of pregnancy. I'm wishing that Mr. Platy and Swordtail would just leave her the eff alone.

Besides the fact that I'm still waiting for someone to die. If I can't find Mustache I freak out. If one of the glass catfish isn't where they usually are I check the filter to see if another one of thier lifeless bodies is stuck to it (that wasn't our fault either). We've been able to keep a good many fish alive for awhile now, but I'm constantly on edge. Of the 23 fish that have been under our care, we've only lost 6 and IT WASN'T OUR FAULT! Those odds aren't so bad; I'd try to figure it out, but that would involve math.

no, no, don't say it...

The six most dreaded words in wiener world...
I peed on my whole self.