Living with an allergy-laden child has its definite disadvantages.
But one that seems to EAT EVERYTHING is seriously exhausting.
Last week, I told you in THIS POSTthat Sam has this nasty little habit of eating whatever he can possibly find...usually things that he shouldn't be eating.
I kid you not, as I wrote that post (I am literally one room away from him. I can hear him happily playing with trains as I type...) he did the unthinkable.
The night before, I had made these cupcakes:
Yeah. They are good cupcakes. But not for Sam. Not for me either as I'm not doing gluten right now.
But they are tempting...what with their REAL strawberry, homemade frosting...
Well, after Think tank, I had three left. Figured my kids or Adam could eat them... that is until I finished my blog post and walked into the living room.
That's when I saw this...
Never mind my ridiculously dirty carpet... that is the remnant of THREE entire cupcakes...three cupcakes that were on a plate, wrapped in foil and stuck AT THE VERY BACK of the counter.
HOW is he getting this stuff? Who is this kid, Inspector Gadget?
So, I thought that was the worst of it.
But then, yesterday. I was blogging again...(do we see a pattern here? Mom blogs and son retaliates by eating things he's not allowed to eat...what next? Will I find him sitting in the toilet with a straw?)
But today, it wasn't something he was allergic to. It wasn't even food.
It came in a container that looked a lot like this:
He came into my office from the toy room and I could smell it. Something weird. Fruity. And he pointed to his mouth, opened up for me to look inside. I saw nothing.
"Sam, what did you eat?" (this is becoming my standard line nowadays...)
He gagged and I had flashbacks of Sunday morning when he threw up all over me...
But he didn't throw up...(small miracles)
"M'ere." He wiggled his little fingers in the direction of the toy room. I walked in, scanned the floor for anything it could've been. Considering that last night I watched a Private Practice where 10 year old boy ate his pillow, a chair cushion, toilet paper...I am thinking it could be anything.
But then I saw this little red circle on the floor. I thought it maybe was a wheel or part of a toy. Maybe he swallowed a piece of a toy like the time I ate the rubber nose off of the Operation game.
I freaked out, ran home and told my mom I was dying.
Sometimes it's good to be wrong.
It wasn't a piece of a toy though, it was the bubble bath inside the toy that he DRANK.
yeah.
So, I called Adam who seriously put me ON HOLD while he took ANOTHER CALL. (Seriously?) When he came back I told him what happened and he told me it should be fine. It's not poison. And then I think he said "maybe you should stop blogging and start watching your kid."
Or something like that.
So, I hung up, but I still did not feel good about this massive soap ingestion, so I called the doctor. They were going to have the nurse call me back until I told them what happened, at which time they patched me through and the nurse came on and promptly gave me the number to Poison Control.
I just want to point out, I've never called Poison control.
Not with the girl one.
Or the monkey.
Just the Hobbit.
Hobbits, apparently not only have hairy feet, but they eat things they aren't supposed to.
Anyway. I called Poison Control. I told them what happened. I attempted to read the ingredients of the bubble bath to the guy, who I am SURE thought I was insane and who I think said at one point "Maybe you should stop blogging and watch your kid."
No joke.
So, I explained that it's quite possible he drank half this 10 oz. bottle. He sounded surprised and I started to re-think my assumption. The bubbles had been used in the bath (go figure, using bubble bath for its intended purpose...not as a surrogate toy...are we really in such desperate need for toys around here?) and there was still half left and he couldn't have just sat down and guzzled it...could he?
Now I felt even dumber.
So, the guy tells me it's probably fine but watch out for vomiting and diarrhea and oh, stop blogging and watch your kid.
So, that's what I'm doing...watching out for vomit and diarrhea.
It's the little things, folks.
Before I got off the phone, the guy asks for my son's name. Without thinking, I gave it to him, along with my zip code, at which time I envisioned DCFS banging on my front door. I nearly hung up on the guy--no joke. I considered making up fake names for us. I thought about switching to broken English, or attempting to speak Spanish just so I could get off the phone...
...but I am not nearly that quick on my feet.
And the only Spanish I know is from Dora. I don't think counting to TEN or saying "Larga...Gorta..." would've gotten me very far.
I'm praying those poison control people are understanding. Surely I can't be the only person who's had to call them lately?
Am I?
Please, tell me you have an ingestion horror story???
Let me share in your pain. I think it'll make me feel better.
I'm going to stop blogging now. I have a kid to watch.
