Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Sick For The Cure

Last week was Spring Break week, and we went to our favorite place on earth---Gatlinburg!  We stayed in a gorgeous cabin and went shopping, drove around in the mountains, went to the Aquarium, and all the other things we love to do when we go there.  East Tennessee is my happy place and I NEVER want to come home.  

 *sniff* I wanna be back there.

Only downfall we had?  Shelby got into something, we're still not sure what, that caused her to break out in a rash that covered her legs and arms.  Poor thing looked like a little leper.  And of course, being the eight year old that she is, we couldn't get her to quit scratching at it, which made it a million times worse. 

So when we got home, I took her to the doctor, because I wasn't sure if she was allergic to something, or if it was a reaction that went beyond that.  The doc said most likely it was just a reaction from something environmental.  Whatever it was, it was pretty rough looking, so she put her on antibiotics and steroids.

Now, before I go further, you've got to understand some things about my precious Shelby.  She's....um....well, she's a firecracker.   She's got the sweetest, tender heart.  She cries any time there's a hurt animal on TV, or when she watches Disney movies, she sits in her room and writes sweet letters to her teachers, because she loves them so much, she loves and kisses all over Gibson, and she'll give hugs to anyone---even just walking through the mall, she'll walk up and hug little old ladies.  But there's also the OTHER side of Shelby.  That girl has an attitude that could rival the girls on The O.C.  If I say the sky is blue, then by god, she's gonna find a way to make it green and prove me wrong.  There are times when I'll use reverse psychology on her, just to get her to cooperate, because she refuses to comply if it's my idea.  She can torture Patrick just by staring at him, and she can drive me to the brink of madness with her defiance.   But deep down, she really is a sweet little soul who just wants to be independent.

 My Sweet, Beautiful, Precocious Girl

But back to the story.   I go to pick up the prescriptions, and the pharmacist asks if I have any questions.  Well, considering we might as well have stock in Augmentin, I pretty much know the routine with that one.  But I'd heard other people, mostly adults, talk about all the negative crap they dealt with on steroids.  I wasn't sure if it was the same way for kids.  So I just casually asked, "Are there any weird effects with the steroids?"  And the girl  replied, "Well, it can make them sorta irritable."  Just like that, no big deal, just irritable.  I was like "Um, okay, well, she's irritable all the time, what else is new."

NOWHERE in the side effects list did it mention that she was going to be playing the lead role in the next E! True Hollywood Story:  Beautiful Children Who Slaughter Entire Communities.    Holy CRAP!!  What the hell do they put in this stuff??  I've seen people on PCP who aren't as psycho as she is on this junk.   I'm not talking about the usual rolling of the eyes, stomping down the hallway, or screaming childlike profanities about me behind closed doors.   Oh, no, any minute now, I'm expecting the kid from Pet Cemetery to come walking through my room.  You know, this kid:


I actually laid here with one eye opened, because I seriously was worried that she was going to come in and slice my Achilles tendon while I slept.  One minute, she's bawling her head off, begging me to write a note to her P.E. teacher because "my leg hurts too much to run."  Two minutes later, she's all but swinging from the balcony from a rope, just to tackle Patrick, because apparently he took a quarter that she claimed was hers.  The girl will try any and everything to get out of P.E. (Can't say I really blame her there, though.  It was torturous for me, too. I'm too self-conscious and not exactly a fan of people watch me openly make a fool of myself.  It happens accidentally enough as it is.) but this was just ridiculous.  I'm not trying to send her to a concentration camp!

Then I made the mistake of showing her the new summery clothes I'd bought her for school, that also had matching jeweled sandals.   Being the Fashion Club member that she is, she completely freaked out and begged to wear the new skirt and sandals to school.  Of course, today being P.E. day, I said "No, wait and wear them on Thursday."   At that moment, you would've thought I just beheaded a puppy right in front of her.   She immediately threw herself on the floor, screaming and sobbing, and going on about how she's never going to school again, and she's never going to have a boyfriend (remember--she's EIGHT!) and she hates everything and she's never going to be happy again.  For a minute there, it was like watching Lindsay Lohan get told that she was gonna have to spend 45 minutes in jail for stealing $20,000 worth of jewelry.



I just kinda stood there in stunned silence.  First of all, I'm not a cryer.  I'm either a "bottle up your emotions until you fly off the deep end" or a "turn your sadness and homicidal rage into sardonic humor" kinda girl.  (Hey, don't judge, it works for me....and look, you wouldn't have any blogs to read if I wasn't that way.)  So trying to wrap my brain around the 8 year old version of a hormonal-infested 90210 breakdown was not something I'd brushed up on in my parenting manuals lately.  So I did what any level-headed, confident, mentally stable, disciplinarian mother would do.....I turned and ran upstairs and left her screaming and sobbing in her dad's office.


Seriously, I did it for her own safety....and to torture him just a little bit.  Why should I always have to deal with the meltdowns?  Pure innocent fun, I tell ya!  It'll prepare him for what he has to look forward to in a few years.  A hormonal wife AND daughter!

I had to keep telling myself, "it's the meds, it's the meds, she's not gonna kill you in your sleep, it's the meds, it's the meds, don't strangle her, don't spike her drink with horse tranquilizers"  But at some point, you finally just have enough and have to give up, go to bed, and hope for a better day tomorrow.   I do have to admit, it was a fitful night's sleep, though.  It's pretty hard to settle into dreamland, having visions of a man with Ian Somerhalder's face and Alan Rickman's voice when in the back of your mind you keep envisioning



So from this point on, if the pharmacist ever vaguely mentions the fact that some medicine might cause my child to be "sorta irritable,"  I will now know to drive immediately to the hardware store for some soundproof padding, ropes, and a huge pad-lock.   Sorta irritable, my ass.    Now I'm just hoping that she makes it through the day at school without pulling a Carrie and setting the gymnasium on fire.  (Remember----she's not a fan of P.E.)

Starting tomorrow, I think she's just gonna have to deal with the itching....


Peace out, guys!  Til next time, signin' out: 











I have no idea why, but for some reason, I now can't get this song out of my head.  *sigh*  They just don't make music (or music videos) like this anymore.

2 comments:

  1. funny stuff and I like to read your stories to hopefully prepare me with my little one :) even though most of your stuff scares that crap outta me haha

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    1. You have hope, though, because you have a boy! lol You'll still have the craziness, just hopefully minus a bit of the attitude. ;-)

      Thank you!

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