Walkin’ the Mile 💉

Just a miserable way to start of a beautiful Saturday.  This poor kid had no idea what he was about to go up against.  He was just so cute walking through the parking lot, seeing the ambulances and giving high fives to police officers and security guards.

Needless to say he had no idea he was going to be encountering a needle wielding woman who only wanted him  his blood.  It’s tough watching your kid walk so innocently with a big smile knowing he’s about to get stabbed more times than an inmate in a prison fight. The worst part is trying to keep a calm demeanor, because toddlers are like fortune tellers or gypsies or something, one wrong look and they immediately sense imminent danger and their happy, go-lucky attitude turns into all out panic mode as they flee for the nearest exit.  

Luckily we made it to the waiting room, but not with out the saddest looks  from just about every human in the building as we walked down the hall. I’m not even quite sure who the looks were for… Might have been for me knowing what I’m about to endure as well. It was a short distance but the walk felt like a epic journey down that white hallway which was lit by buzzing UV lights. 

We got the waiting room and he immediately made himself at home, pulling out an US Weekly and leafing through the pages.  (On a side note why are all hospital magazines decades old? Is it necessary on a day like today for my son to have to read about Jennifer Anisten and Brad Pitt filing for divorce?  I mean get something from this decade at least!)

The moment of truth arrived soon after Jax read about the falling of the Berlin Wall. As we were called in to a small room with two chairs, one which looked appropriately like an “electric chair” Jax began to understand why  we were there.  Sadly for him it was too late to run. I sat in the electric chair and was instructed to “hold him tight and not to let him move…”  I laughed sarcastically and wondered if they understood holding a two year old down is like trying to catch water with a strainer.  Luckily my PMT training came in handy as the basket hold at least kept him at bay until the needle began to jab him.  I literally watched in horror as they jabbed the needle, what seemed like 19 different times, in various directions and still did not find a vein.  I felt as if I were watching a live episode of Game of Thrones. 

After what seemed like hours of trying and more needle jabs than Barry Bonds in his prime, poor Jax was covered in tears and snot.  No SpiderMan bandaid was going to solve this problem and, “no nurse he doesn’t want your Lighteming McQueen sticker.” What he wants is to get the hell out of here and never come back.  

OCD and Yuck

I’m not sure sometimes who I’m writing this blog for… is really for Jackson?  Is it for others who share my infinity for hilarious things that happen on a day to day basis?  Or is it for me to finally come clean about my inner issues?

Well if it’s the latter I guess its time to come clean about something… I’m OCD… not Jack Nicholas from As Good as it Gets OCD… but OCD non-the-less.   Not so much a huge deal when you live at home with a wife who is relatively clean and tidy, but a HUGE problem when you bring a little mess maker into the world.  My OCD ramps up when things aren’t clean and tidy… when things are messy I get anxious.  When things are dirty or germy I want to barf!  Then you bring in this amazing little wonder into the house who makes every rainy day bright… but also brings with him germs that definitely could be derived from the Black Plague.

Here’s a list of my top three OCD inducing, dry-heave making issues:

1)  Spit up:  I don’t know about you, but the precursor to vomit (spit up) is just as disgusting as puke itself.  I cannot deal with it.  Why does it happen every single time I forget to put a bib on him or a burp cloth on my shoulder?   Why is it hot? (My microwave can’t even heat up a cup of coffee that fast, how did he get it to 287 degrees farenheight in 14 seconds?  Worst case scenario, Jax spits up while we are all eating… once that happens any food in the vicinity is dead to me… and there is no amount of hunger that could repair the damage done.

2)  Caca:  Caca is different from poop.  Poop is just that poop… it happens, its gross but you just deal.  But caca is disgusting.  I don’t want to see it, I don’t want to smell it, I don’t even want to know it happened.  Caca is the one where you know you are going to be sick when you hear the noises you child’s butt is making during the process.  All I can think about is caca particles beong released into the atmosphere.  I know they are there, you cant see them, but they are there waiting to penetrate everything you love… your clothes, your cup of water, even your pillow case… then it’s HELLO PINK EYE…

3)  Floor Yuck:  Floor yuck is another kind of invisible disgustingness that lurks around, well it lurks around the floor I guess.  There is this repulsive cycle that I feel takes place in this world and it is far too often overlooked.


Now the variable here is floor yuck… you see floor yuck can be categorized into three main groups:

      1)  Caca Yuck: Anything poo related, dog poo, baby poo, diaper remnants, shoe prints that stepped in poo… or anything that could have come in contact with poo. There’s not enough hand sanitizer in the world to solve this problem.

      2)  Insect Yuck: There is nothing that makes me shiver more than bugs.  I hate them, they are disgusting and I wish Noah never invited two of each on the arc.  They are bringers of eternal disgustingness and literally carry every type of disease known to man.  I want nothing to do with any of them.

      3)  Blood Yuck: Blood is right up there in the things that I wish didn’t exist.  I know we need it to live… but couldn’t we have filled our veins with something useful, like maple syrup or a good IPA?  I hate blood, the sight of it makes me want to pass out.  The problem is that people bleed all the time, they bleed and let it drip, they leave a Hansel and Gretel bread crumb trail from their injury site to the bathroom where the Band-Aids are… then they wipe up the trail with a wet paper towel.  I don’t care how strong the Brawny Man is… he aint cleaning up plasma and white blood cells.  If blood touches the floor you might as well tear it up and burn it.

So you can see that I have slight issues with life sometimes.  The thing is… Jax will inevitably make me want to vomit from time to time… weather it’s a diaper full of caca, spitting up or picking something up off the floor and shoving it into his mouth.  I guess this blog is my way of admitting I may have a problem.


This blog entry has been featured on:
Brilliant blog posts on HonestMum.com