A&E Round Two

At the time of writing I was waiting for Mister Husband and Shy Boy to come home from A&E.

Nothing serious.  History repeating itself which kept me calm.   I knew what to expect so I was not the least bit surprised when A&E was his last port of call for the day.

Shy Boy woke with a whistle and a wheeze in his chest.  He went to school as normal but on coming home it was clear he needed to see the GP.

Over the course of an hour he had two rounds of a nebulizer plus a dose of steroids.

His oxygen levels improved and I was glad to see his complexion pinking up but he was still “tugging” with his breathing.

So for the second time in as many months, and it has to be said, years, we visited A&E.

When Shy Boy was 7 months old he had a particularly nasty case of bronchiolitis and he needed to be nebulized.

For as long as I can remember he has had a loud, sharp bark, particularly at night.  Not totally unlike a seal.

On occasion I would notice a wheeze in his chest but it never developed.

Monday we were told he most likely had several small asthma episodes over the years but as they were minor, we didn’t notice.

Straight away I remembered the handful of wheezing, coughing and chesty issues he had.  A year ago on summer holidays, he asked for “a go” of Oldest Boy’s puffer to help his chest.

Something worth noting, if a child is to develop asthma, it will be by the time they are two or three years old.  Not older.  And as a result, there is a strong possibility they will grow out of it. 

Within twenty four hours Shy Boy was all but 100% improved.  I kept him home from school, more for my own peace of mind than anything else.  But I also wanted to make sure he knew how to use his puffer correctly.

Then he told me Oldest Boy had come to him in the school yard to see if he was ok and my heart almost did two things; burst with pride for Oldest Boy keeping a concerned eye on his younger brother and broke with the guilt of sending Shy Boy to school when he was feeling so badly.

But there is a lovely upside to the whole episode.

Shy Boy was in great form altogether.

I can quite honestly say I have not seen him so chipper in quite a while.

I think the small bit of attention he received did wonders for his self-worth.  I think he thoroughly enjoyed the one on one time with his daddy the night before.  The half hour journey to the hospital in the van, the treats afterwards and when he got home, I slept in beside him.

He’s great now.  He needs his puffer a lot during the day to help his chest but this is expected to decrease considerably until he may not need it so regularly.  If at all.

This evening, he is coughing a little bit but hasn’t requested his puffer at all.

I think he’s almost cured.  Now all I have to do is purchase a large staple gun somewhere to keep his clothes on.

Days Like This

“Well, my mama told me, there’ll be days like this.”  She’s not wrong, Van Morrison’s mama.

When I woke up Tuesday morning, the day didn’t start too great.  For starters I had a headache and felt strangely, hideously hung-over.

If I’m going to feel like this, I remember thinking, I want to see several empty bottles of wine when I go downstairs.

It being a school day, that wasn’t going to happen.

Then Smallest Boy, having been freed from the confines of his cot, came wandering in, tights clutched in his hand.

I got a big forehead touch and a nose rub before he proceeded to scramble in beside me.  I was then treated to a “go” of his tights which involved having them rubbed along my nose and cheek.  His little way of sharing his comforter with me.

The headache lingered until I finally gave in and took a pain killer.  After that everything just perked right up.

Every cloud has a silver lining and my headache had a lovely, glittery edge.

Because I had been feeling so awful I decided to do just what needed doing.  Nothing more.  Nothing less.

So I took a moment.  Actually I took lots of them!

I drank cups of ginger and zesty lemon tea.  I ate scrambled eggs.

I went for a walk around the garden. 

Smallest Boy was having a decadent early morning nap and Lovely Liam tagged along with me.  We walked amongst the swooping, chattering swallows and kept an eye out for ladybirds.  They are definitely not as plentiful as they were last month.

We went back inside and I made some mini-buns.  The recipe yields around 30 so I put some aside for Lovely Liam to take to school that afternoon.

We watched The Gruffalo.  A gorgeous half hour of animated loveliness and we made a pretty good attempt at reciting the lines ourselves.

Shy Boy came home from school and ran straight into my arms for a hug. 

He had homework for the first time since going back to school and because Oldest Boy was on a play date, he had me all to himself.  He took out his pencil and work sheet and we sat together for ten, Zen minutes as he finished his obair bhaile. 

The day could not have been as chilled had I put in a personal request.  Fights were few and far between.  I had one less school run to do, the one that is usually the most stressful as sometimes I need to wake Smallest Boy and I really, really dislike this.

I believe your body sends you little signals, advising you, encouraging you to slow down and take it easy.  If you don’t listen to them, they get more persistent.

Mine was only a headache.  But I never get headaches.  It was my second one in three days.

I’m glad I listened.  I could have gone hell for leather after taking pain relief but I chose not to.

I’m glad I listened. 

  

Hugs

Hugs are good.  Hugs are great.  Even the loud, half asleep ones, at silly o’clock. 

I wasn’t always so fond of hugs.

But my boys learned me.  They showed me the warm and fuzzy way. 

Over the last few years I have seen too many people depart from this world to be awkward about a hug anymore.

When Lovely Liam was but a wee baby, he would wake at the aforementioned silly o’clock for a kiss and a hug. 

It was hard.  It was frustrating.  But that was what he wanted and he wasn’t going back to sleep until he got one. 

Today, at four years old, he will turn to me, countless times every day and tell me he loves me.  Sometimes he punctuates it a wink, deadly serious, and returns to his telly watching. 

Once I found him staring straight at me. He silently mouthed “I love you,” nodded and 

looked away.

I told myself it was not a bit weird, it was lovely and one day, not too far away in the near future, there will come a time when all four of them will cross the road in order not to be seen with me.

That could be starting already.

Shy Boy will run ahead at the school gate of a morning so I can’t kiss him goodbye.  But he wants me to give chase and of course I do, because he really does want that kiss and cuddle before he goes to his classroom, even if he goes about it in a not so obvious way.

Oldest Boy has already looked at me with sheer horror and fear when I ask him for a kiss gate.

Alas, he means it so I don’t pursue.

According to mindbodygreen.com we need at least 8 hugs a day and being enveloped by someone can raise your serotonin levels, which elevates your mood.

You’ll be glad to hear they also reckon a hug can strengthen your immune system.   

Amongst other things hugging boosts self-esteem, relaxes muscles, balances the nervous system and my favourite claim is they teach us how to give and receive.

So go on.  Give someone a free hug today.

It’s not a bit weird.

You know you want to.

Back to School Costs

Two down. Two to go.

Irish Parenting Bloggers are at it again.  This time we are “marching” about back to school and the inevitable costs involved.  Today it is my turn.

 “Wait till they start secondary school.” 

I have heard this more than once over the last month since Back to School preparations 

began in earnest.

At the moment two of our four boys attend the local Gaelscoil and before summer holidays even commenced, booklists plus details of school requisites were sent home in school bags.

Hit with it straight away.

School books were bought on line the first week of July when Child Benefit came through.  I bought the same books our oldest used for the five and a half year old as they use workbooks in the school, therefore cannot be passed down.  The cost of that list came to €123.  This included delivery and having the books covered. 

I still had to buy bits and pieces like colouring pencils, scrapbooks, erasers, glue sticks and an art folder.

The school requisites, by the way, amounts to €131.

They needed school bags and these were €20 each.  Yes, I could have gotten cheaper but they would have been smaller therefore not suitable.  School bags have an annoying habit of remaining perfectly intact body wise, but not bottom wise.  I could see the ground through the threadbare ends of theirs.

Last year I made the decision to drive the boys to school.  Their bus tickets would have set me back €200.  This went instead towards their books.  The bus does not stop at or near our house and I would have to drive them to the bus stop which seemed to defeat the purpose.  Also that collection point does not have anywhere to park safely and is on a main and busy road. 

Not worth it. 

I also noticed last year, instead of keeping the children inside the bus until the school gate opened, they were all released and left to their own devices.

A decision that was already made became cemented.  

Our boys wear a crested jumper and tracksuit top.  These are compulsory as is the case in many schools.  Both of these can set you back €23 per item.

I made a few savings in this area.  The joys of hand me downs and an older cousin who attended the same school.

I needed to buy two trousers for Oldest Boy.  I always spend extra on trousers for the very reason they have to be durable in order to survive inevitable wear and tear to be passed along the next year.  I am also strict about changing their uniform as soon as they come home from school in the evenings.

Footwear next.  Nothing wrong with checking out department stores for footwear over a well-known brand name.  I managed to save €139 this way.  One thing bugged me greatly however; I thought the selection of girl’s shoes was by far superior to the health board selection on offer for the boys. 

Do your homework first and check prices on line.  I did this for both Dunnes Stores and Marks and Spencer.  Prices start at €12.

My one real bargain was spotting a John Rocha raincoat for Oldest Boy, reduced from a shocking original price of €48 down to under €15.

That’s the usual stuff dealt with.  How about the hidden extras?

Voluntary contributions for one.  I have heard parents say they feel guilted and pressured into paying.  At present ours is €7 for the two boys each week.

I, hand on heart, don’t mind paying this.  I am not available at the moment to participate in flag days for the school.  Nor am I free in the morning to assist with extra reading practice in the school so, for me, this is my way of contributing.  When I can.

Birthday parties.  Both a delight and a curse.  Oldest Boy has been known to receive up to ten invites for the month of October alone.  I generally put ten euros into an envelope for the birthday boy or girl. 

Call me mad but I feel birthday parties are an important part of school so I like my boys to go to them and extend the invitation when it’s their turn.

This year our third son will partake of the ECCE free preschool year which will garner him 15 hours of fun a week. I still have to drive him there, however, and collect him.

What about after school activities?  Maybe your child/children are musically inclined.  This brings us nicely to renting/buying musical instruments plus the paying for lessons.

Oldest Boy goes swimming with the school in November and this usually extends to five sessions.  

School trips are another hidden cost.

We have a First Holy Communicant next May.  Others will be celebrating their Confirmation. 

Before you know it, summer is upon us again and the kids come home from school with flyers for summer camps that take place; sports, drama, swimming, adventure camps. 

Our boys signed up for one such camp this August.  €110 euros for Monday through to Friday mornings, 10am till 1pm. 

What’s that you say?  Wait till they go to college?

I’d rather not, thanks all the same.  I have enough to be getting on with there, don’t you think?