Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Unluck of the Irish

Today started out with amazing potential. The hubby got up with Laylabug and they played in her room for awhile so I could stretch my sleep a little after a long night of not being able to get comfortable (it's an 8 1/2 months pregnant thing). Then Laylabug and I watched Princess and the Frog and ate leprechaun gold sized pancakes with extra butter. There was a bath time filled with laughter and there wasn't much fuss when it was time to pull up the toddlers hair. Lunch was eaten without protest. Even naptime (while slightly whiney) went down pretty easy. But, Layla took a pretty short nap...only about 30 to 45 minutes. She was still in a lovely mood though.

When Laylabug came downstairs the front door was open and I had told her earlier that she could go outside after nap so when she put up a valiant request (shoes on & sunglasses in hand) I grabbed my camera, cell phone and half a pepsi and headed outside to be a good sport. Now I must add at this point my child is wearing an adorable short set but I am fresh out of the shower with a sundress on (without a bra) and no shoes on but I figure it won't matter.

She finds her bike in the garage and peddles it around a bit. It's the first time she's actually been able to successfully peddle alone, her legs are finally long enough. After awhile the white trash neighbors keep driving in and out and I talk her into going to play in the shade with chalk. I attempt to sit in a nice chair in the grass but am drug by one finger onto the concrete to draw as well.

At this point the afternoon is lovely, there is a breeze and my kid is happily coloring with chalk on the sidewalk. Although, I am having some discomfort because I'm way too pregnant to be sitting on concrete I just suffer through it sending texts to my mom (who ended up taking longer than expected to show up at the house to help after Jon went to work) and trying to keep my kid from drinking my entire pepsi.

Laylabug alternates between running in circles around me (I blame the pepsi) and drawing with me on the sidewalk. She jumps around on the porch, dings the wind chimes, digs in the dirt a bit and dispite being uncomfortable I am thinking this is WONDERFUL.

Then the cat came. The neighbor has cats. I think she has 3...there might be 4. They are mostly outside cats and I spend a lot of time being bitter that I find them in my back yard, or their feces in my front yard or worse yet...their furry little faces rubbing on my front screen door when Layla gets too close to the door. With a kid with SEVERE cat allergies that sort of stuff pisses you off. They are pretty much stray cats she feeds, they seldom interact with them or clean up after them. Pisser.

So the first 3 times the cat comes up I try to scare it off with normal tactics. I use the "sk sk sk" scare a cat away noise the first time, I shoo it away with my hand waving the chalk box (because I can't touch it and touch Layla), I throw a pepsi can at it in a moment of desperation...then the 4th time I actually pour an entire bucket of water at the cat and it runs off to the neighbors yard.

I decide that was too close for comfort so I start packing up the kid, the chair, the electronics, the chalk and as I am carrying that stuff into the house I give Layla a watering can to water the dead flower pot on the porch until I can come back for her. Getting a toddler in the house takes 2 hands.

When I round the corner to get her I am just in time to watch the cat rub her shoulder. Her bare shoulder which is wearing the cutest top ever which will not protect her from the cat. I freak out on the cat and it runs away as I am screaming. Then I try to act like it's not a big deal. Layla is already scratching (30 seconds into the encounter) and by the time I trick her into the garage and shut the door behind her 3 things have happened.

A minor fit has started because she doesn't want to go inside yet and the garage door starts to be pounded by little angry fists, when not pounding on the garage door she is scratching her face with both hands and mid protest...a scream gets stuck and is replaced by a wheeze. (Probably 3 minutes into this experience).

I throw the kid over my shoulder and take her kicking and screaming into the house. I try to give her liquid albuterol (by the way, ever try to swallow while you can't breath...it was tragic). I wash her face and shoulder. I turn to see her vomit all over the kitchen floor. I give her benadryl instead. Then I try to calm her down.

There are 3 problems at this point. 1. She still wants to go outside so she's pissed 2. She's itchy and she now knows that doesn't have to happen. 3. She's still a little wheezy.

I get in a movie and we calm down enough that I can change the blow out diaper that is a result of screaming and medicine. So far we have one every time we take the asthma med. And I watch as my kid slowly cranks up.

The label on albuterol should say "the good news is they'll breath, the bad news is you'll want to smother them". When Laylabug takes it she sometimes gets shakey, sometimes moody, mostly she gets a little crazy. I think it's an adrenaline thing.

Mom arrived and off and on the rest of the night we battled the worlds longest fit. Laylabug got so itchy she stripped naked and insisted on staying that way until bedtime. I had to lather her down twice with lotion and she may or may not have gone to bed with chocolate on her face 45 minutes later than her normal latest ever bedtime. All the while, I've been having stress contractions (there were only 3 things the Dr said not to do and I did 2 of them in a row trying to save my kid from El Gato... I picked up a heavy object (more than once) and I did something stressful instead of laying on my left side when my vision got blurry from my blood pressure going through the roof).

I took a picture of her mid-throws-of-anguish because some people still don't get it but it makes me want to cry to look at her tear streaked miserable little face. I don't feel like parent of the year already being as I couldn't protect her from the cat or make the horrible feeling that caused the tantrum of all tantrums go away. I don't even want to talk about the tantrum, it makes me have contractions and it makes my heart hurt.

I hate cats. I really dislike irresponsible cat owners. You want a cat...keep it at your house in your yard. If I had a dog and it hung out in your yard you'd throw a fit but if it's a cat people just act like it's no big deal. Those people, they need to live my life for one night...

So much for St Patricks Day

3 comments:

Nana'sGirls said...

It is heartbreaking... and you shouldn't feel badly, it's normal to feel frustrated and it's a mom's natural instinct to want to protect your child, even unto DEATH ... sigh

Dad and I were talking about it, how you'd almost have to live in the country to protect Layla because as you say, cat owners don't feel it's the same as having a dog use a neighbors yard as a potty... Sadly, Layla didn't understand what was happening or why, only that her skin hurt to have material on it, or Nana's hand for that matter... she couldn't breath and she was scared and Mommy and Nana couldn't make it better like they'd normally do, as the meds take time to work

I think people who read your blog should know that until Layla's birth YOU were a cat person, but you gave away a beloved pet because it had to be done.

I think I'll buy a B.B. gun!

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