This appears to be turning in to a medical blog

We went for x-rays last week, and it wasn’t even for Matthew.  We tell the twins (who are FOUR and should KNOW BETTER) not to put stuff in their mouth all of the time.  (which translated in to ‘Grandrew’ means “pop all manner of non-food items in to your mouths at all times!”)  Now this is not usually for their safety, but rather because Daddy does not want drool on his legos.  (Yes, Daddy’s legos.  I’m pretty sure he has more toys than all four children put together.)  Anyhow, Gregory noticed a penny on the floor, so he picked it up and stuck it in his mouth (for safekeeping?) and promptly swallowed it.  Because he is a jeenyus.   Being about as far removed from anxious first mother status as one can possibly be, I merely thought to myself “Good job, moron” and we went back to what we were doing.  Later on, feeling a niggle of guilt, I called Mike and told him to google penny swallowing and WOULDN’T YOU KNOW google came back with dire warnings(!)  Any other coin would have been fine, but pennies manufactured after 1982 (or ’88, I forget) contain high levels of zinc, which if not passed out of the body can eat a whole through the stomach or intestines.

Aack!  I called the pediatrician, and we went for an x-ray, and saw the offending penny.  The doctor said to watch for it, and if it did not visibly exit the rectum in a week’s time Gregory would get another x-ray.  I could have combed through his poop like I was panning for gold, but not being an overly-anxious type A mother I figured if I didn’t see it winking at me from the potty we would just get another x-ray.  Which is, you know, less gross.  Of course, it has been over a week, and I have not seen it, and we haven’t gotten around to another x-ray, but honestly- if it was eating a hole through an organ some discomfort would be involved.  And if there is one thing the twins do NOT do it is suffer in silence.  At least that is how I am justifying my lack of acute concern, because I AM AN AWESOME MOTHER LIKE THAT.  Although, in my defense, all four boys are not only still alive, but still in possession of all major vital parts.  And as an exhausted mother of four active injury-prone boys one learns to celebrate small victories.  And you had better believe that there are days that keeping them alive until bedtime is a victory.  As is not putting them up for adoption.  Not that I don’t love them desperately, in fact, maybe it is in part because I love them so much that they have the ability to wear me down to a frazzled, sugar/carbohydrate gorging shell of myself.  That has become obsessed with cinnamon buns.  Specifically, Entenmann’s Ultimate cinnamon buns, which come in a box of four.  A box of four that weighs about SEVEN POUNDS.  In which supposedly each bun is 2 servings.  I can plow through a box a day, which would be a hefty victory were it not due to my recently developed double chin.  The more I gaze at my double chin, the better adoption sounds.  Because something has to go, and it SURE as hey won’t be my cinnamon buns.

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March 5, 2009. Uncategorized.

2 Comments

  1. Jill replied:

    hahahahahahahahaha. “Good job, moron”

  2. Jenn replied:

    Well, we’re in the same boat rowing together. Jacob said something was in his sock, I put my hand in the sock…nothing…put the sock on and let’s go. 2 nights later, we’re getting the spinter cut out of his foot at patient first 🙂 But like you I am victorious in keeping them alive until bed time!!

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