It’s funny; I think very often about the moments that make me really feel like a mom. And it is not the ones that I would expect.

Like packing lunch, for example. It’s such a mom thing. I put each item in it’s own separate little container and make sure everything is neat, and she often gets notes or drawings. But this doesn’t make me feel like a mom.

What does make me feel like a mom is when she comes home from school on a Friday, with her lunchbox destined to be sitting, vacant for the weekend, and I wipe down the inside with a disinfectant and making sure it is free from any crumbs.

These little tiny moments seem to always catch me by surprise. I feel like such a mom.

In the spirit of the honesty that I have pledged to you when stating mission of my blog, I will say that yesterday I had a little thing. I am fine, it’s just a thing, but I realized (and was told) that if I continue to write about every trip that I take to the Emergency Room I am going to seem like either:

A really hyperbolic hypochondriac

or

An oversharer

or

An attention seeker

or

A liar,

because seriously, who could make this stuff up?

Anyway, my “thing” left me with mixed emotions; I was drained of energy, but filled with love for my friends and family.

I was a bit nervous about today, being home alone with the baby all day long with no support, but I mustered up my confidence as best I could. I woke up slowly, having a hard time keeping my eyes open. At some point J texted me to check in. Here is our convo:

I was, what you could say, a tad run down. BUT, I took my medicine fastidiously, put the kids in cute clothing and even changed out of my pajamas.

Except, when I was changing out of my pajamas, I thought I looked funny in the mirror. My face looked fuller, which it really shouldn’t have, as I hadn’t eaten for most of the day prior. My eyes, especially, looked swollen. Kind of like when my son had his reaction to penicillin. I attributed it to IV fluids and moved on, taking note of the fact that my rings were tighter as I made a bottle for my son.

By some miracle, our babysitter bestie had to stop by today to pick something up, and she just so happens to be a nurse; and when she arrived, I just so happened to start getting itchy eyes and an itchy throat.

As it turns out (after speaking with my Doctor’s office) it was an allergic reaction to the medicine I had been told to take.

Of course.

Because why wouldn’t I have an allergic reaction to the medicine? It should be listed right there on that punch card that I am working on getting.

Now here is where it gets really funny.

My regular antihistamine (the medicine I was advised to take for my allergic reaction) was expired, so I had to use the kids’ liquid version. I saw that one pill contains 25mg of regular medicine, and according to the bottle, 5ML (the typical size for an infant’s medicine dropper) would contain 2.5mg of medicine.

We were incredulous, laughing, not knowing what to do.

We stood in my son’s room, trying to do math, multiplying & dividing, and then, because she is an angel, my friend realized that it did not, in fact, contain 2.5mg of medicine in 5ML but 12.5mg; She looked at the directions in Spanish, and the “12.5” was visible, whereas the “1” on the front of the bottle had worn off.

Thank goodness, because I was exceedingly close to taking 10 droppers full of benadryl (125mg, which would be a lot).

So I used an infant dropper and choked down the syrup and my symptoms subsided.

But instead of throwing up my hands and saying, “Why me?” I looked at this as an opportunity for me to laugh, to share a really funny experience with a person who is dear to me, and to make a hilarious memory for years to come.

I mean really, picture it, the two of us, running around, trying to do math, frantically, with a baby eye medicine dropper, my face and hands all swollen, the baby confused…it was quite a scene.

So this would be, I believe, an example of making lemonade out of lemons…

just like the lemonade that I packed in my daughter’s spotless, disinfected lunch box for the first time, today.

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So my daughter tells me things every day like:

“There was just a HUGE ghost in my room but I’m Daphne and I captured him with Shaggy!”

“It wasn’t me who dumped all of the straws out of the drawer, it was my baby, and I told him to stop, but he kept doing it, so I started to do it too.”

and

“I can really do the flip like the girl in the Sia video, mom. No, like really.”

So if you remember, last weekend I had some very special time with my friends, particularly in that we had an overnight guest who went from being one of my besties to being one of my daughter’s.

And the whole time that she was here my daughter kept saying something about, what I thought, was a “bamboozle challenge”. And she would take two things (not edible things, mind you) and say “Is this buttercream or diaper cream?” and we would “guess” (because she would be holding up a plastic ice cream cone and a piece of play dough) and she would tell us if we were right. It was kind of weird but cute and we all assumed that this was something that she had made up.

Imagine my surprise when at the pharmacy today (because my kids are still sick and now both need antibiotics) she found these:

A box of Beanboozled collection Jelly Belly jellybeans, which, evidently, are how you do the BEANboozle challenge. I could not believe that this actually existed.

So, here is how I think it works: You and friends or family members gather together and you are given a choice of two identical looking jelly beans. I will use as my example the first two flavors pictured on my box above, as that was my first challenge. So, you have to try to guess which one is the real Jelly Belly flavor and which one is the gross alternative. I find some of the flavors to be absolutely repulsive in thought, as I have not (yet) tasted them, including “Canned Dog Food”. “Barf” and “Booger”.

So, as I mentioned, I did the first challenge. My daughter had the whole thing down. Now let me just say that I still have no idea from where she learned about this challenge (is this what kids on the playground are talking about these days?!) but she instructed us. I was to take the two identical looking, speckled beans and she had my son holding a cup for me in case I chose wrong and got “Stinky Socks” instead of “Tutti Fruity”. (That part was admittedly super cute. He just sat there, holding a cup, having no idea what was going on with his crazy mom and sister.)

Well, wouldn’t you know that I got “Stinky socks” which tasted to me like rotten cheese. And I could not get the taste out of my mouth. So when I did eat the “Tutti Fruiti” flavored bean, it still tasted gross.

She was next. She chose the white jellybeans, which meant she would either get “Coconut” or “Baby Wipes”. She also chose wrong and, in solidarity, I tried the “Baby Wipes” flavor with her, because, you know, #yolo.

She was luckier on her second try, as she got “Berry Blue” instead of “Toothpaste”, and then we decided to call it a day. But don’t think that here won’t be more bamboozling going on around here tomorrow.

I should make it clear, I am in no way affiliated with the Jelly Belly brand. They are not my partners and they have no idea that I am writing this post. I am simply giving you, parents, caregivers, intoxicated college students, ideas for a fun activity to do when you’re a bit stir crazy in this cold (with these colds).

The funniest thing is that when I told my friend about the Beanboozle challenge she was also in disbelief that it actually exists. Well, perhaps I should start getting a care package together…

And for the record, I have never eaten a booger in my entire life. And I would prefer to keep that record going as long as possible. But who knows? I could get Beanboozled and then I lose one of my most powerful weapons in the game of “Never Have I Ever”.

Can’t wait to eat some “Skunk Spray” in the morrow.

Goodnight and sweet dreams (that is if you choose the right bean).

The post I’ve been beanboozled. appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

(except, if you mean temperature hot, which I do, a little).

Throughout the past four and a half years I have written about so many sick days; the time that my baby had her first fever and my husband was traveling across the country; the time when my husband had such severe strep that he was shivering in bed for days; recently, when my kids and I napped together and they woke up holding hands; and the general theme is that sick days are pretty crappy.

First and foremost, sick days are bad because it means that a kid or two is sick. And a sick kid is sad! Two sick kids are even sadder. I never want my kids to feel discomfort or pain, so I feel terrible when they are ill.

And some days sick days are tough, because it means juggling schedules and rescheduling appointments and finding childcare coverage. Today I had to cancel with the jaw chiropracter, just as we are starting to make real progress. So, not ideal.

And then there is the whole “What in the world am I going to do with two kids for twelve hours while they are cooped up indoors, sneezing, coughing and/or vomiting?”

But, the thing is, my kids now figure that part out for themselves. They worked as a team, their team.

As I was cleaning up the breakfast dishes, they built a train.

My daughter was the conductor (of course) and she told me that we were going to visit my sister in “Meyork City”.

I hopped on board.

And for a few minutes it didn’t really matter that her nose was running, and it didn’t really matter that there were some dishes in the sink or crumbs on the table,

I just felt so proud of my kids.

I feel honored when they let me join their team–when I can wear their pinny–and play along.

So we still have 8 hours until bedtime, but so far this sick day isn’t so bad. Not really at all.

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