About Anxious Mom, As Narrated By Morgan Freeman

While updating my About Me page, I decided to have a little fun with it. And since there has been an influx of new followers, I thought I’d share that page as a blog post. Welcome aboard, new folks.


Per the blog post title, you should read this in Morgan Freeman’s voice. 

Anxious Mom, who is known as “Mommy,” “Mom,” or “Momo” by her children, is a 30-something woman who resides in the Deep South. (And by “resides,” we mean “suffers” due to the unbearable heat and humidity.) She has two heathens — a son in middle school and a daughter in kindergarten. When the children aren’t busy tormenting each other, they torture their mother in ways only children can.

There are many things Anxious Mom enjoys doing in her spare time. If you ask her directly, she’d probably tell you that she loves reading and doing intellectual activities such as going to the museum. If you observe her in her habitat, however, you’ll find that she mostly watches shows on Netflix and plays games in her downtime. She is particularly fond of comedies, including The Office, Parks and Rec, Friends, and Brooklyn Nine-Nine. She has jokingly said that liking one of those shows is required to be friends with her, but through careful observation, we have learned it is not, in fact, a joke.

If you asked Anxious Mom about her background, she’d tell you that she did a brief stint as a teacher before becoming a stay-at-home-mom. Since then, she has done freelance work part-time, including providing content writing and editing services. Her primary job, however, is working as a chauffeur. This is where she truly excels in life, as she has a penchant for punctuality (as long as her children and husband don’t intervene) and safety. The mother, who we suspect was a hall monitor in another life, is proud of having never gotten a speeding ticket. She does, however, fill her swear jar every other day thanks to her time on the road, so she isn’t as goody-two-shoes as she seems.

As you can see, Anxious Mom is a blogger. Some people call her a mommy blogger, and that irritates her greatly. “I am a mom who blogs,” she maintains, as though there is truly a difference. She has blogged for five years and writes about herself and her family. When she first started blogging, she wrote a lot about her mental health, and it’s suspected that she’ll do so again. The rapidly-approaching-middle-age mother is also fond of writing blog posts where she rants about meaningless topics.

This concludes our glimpse into the life Anxious Mom. You can read her other blog posts or follow her on Instagram for other mundane insights into her life.

So Long Tonsils

I talked to Baby Girl’s teacher about things. She said she admired how we advocated for Norah and told me some things she is doing in the classroom to help. She admitted not knowing a lot about autism, but said she is researching strategies to help. She told me her goal is to minimize situations in the class that may be stressful for BG and reduce sensory overload (or meltdowns).

That was good to hear, of course. She also told me that she got an FM system for the girl . I’ve never seen one, but apparently it’s supposed to reduce background noise and deliver the teacher’s voice to BG. She said some kids were curious about it, so she explained what it was and BG seemed happy with it.

The teacher also talked about how they would handle any issues that came up and said that either she or her assistant would take BG to a quiet area to help her calm down while the other stays with the kids. She asked for suggestions for strategies and other changes she could make in the classroom that might help. I’m so happy to hear all of this, because while getting BG through the school day without a meltdown is important, reducing that frustration so she isn’t completely on the verge of one after school is important, too.

Also, the principal said that while she may not get an IEP and be eligible for certain accommodations through the school district, she’ll have a personal education plan for the school itself. It’s a charter school and receives state funding, but they’re able to make their own rules. (Like allowing her to start late if we had chosen to do so and letting her leave early for her therapy appointments.) The district psychologist has no control over that, so I am assuming that FM system was provided that way since she’s technically supposed to haven an IEP to get one. Take that, asshole.

Good stuff.

The girl had her tonsils out yesterday. That poor child seemed like she was on the verge of panic attacks multiple times over the past few days. She was terrified of having the surgery done. She wasn’t worried about pain — that never came up — but the idea of having them removed scared her.

We expected yesterday to be very difficult, but BG was in a good mood when she got up. She didn’t seem too nervous, even when we got to the hospital. After we checked in, a nurse took her back to a room that had the Disney channel playing. We got her dressed in a gown and then the doctor and the anesthesiologist came in to talk to us. When it was time for them to take her back, she didn’t cry, but I sure did when I watched them wheel her away.

We knew the surgery would be quick, but were surprised when the doctor came out half an hour later. I expected him to say something was wrong and they couldn’t remove the tonsils or something, but he said they got him out and she did great. It took longer for her to wake up from the anesthesia than it did for the tonsils to be removed.

When we went back to the recovery room, BG was crying a little. The nurse gave her some water and we rubbed her back. She then asked:

“Where’s my Barbie dream house?”

Um, what?

“What Barbie dream house?” I asked.

“The one I’m supposed to get after surgery.”

“But you don’t even like Barbies. We don’t have a Barbie dream house, sweetie.”

This made her start crying really hard. “But I want my Barbie dream house!” she wailed. I can only imagine how confused we must have looked to the nurses since our daughter, who can’t stand Barbies and other “girl stuff” was crying over a Barbie dream house that she thought she was going to get for some reason.

My husband asked if he should go get a Barbie dream house for her. I looked it up and they cost almost $200, which is half of what we paid for the surgery. I shot that idea down. She did manage to get him to stop by Target and get another gift for her, though.

The doctor said that BG would need a week, maybe two, to recover. After a half hour nap yesterday, she was bouncing off the walls. Same today. You wouldn’t even know she had surgery. I shouldn’t be too surprised since she’s not one to respond to pain much. Even when she had strep throat, she never complained about it hurting. We took her to the doctor because she had a fever and was lethargic and found out that way. Hopefully she continues feeling well and it isn’t a delayed reaction!

The Psychologist From Hell

Ever since BG was diagnosed as being on the spectrum, I’ve done so much reading. Part of that reading includes joining message boards on Facebook and checking out other parents’ experiences with their kids. I’ve seen so many comments about the hell parents dealt with to get accommodations and services for their kids. I felt relieved since we worked with the school in the past to get a 504 Plan for my son, and even though it took longer than I would’ve liked, it wasn’t an awful experience by any means.

And then today happened.

We requested a meeting to discuss a 504 Plan and speech services. LM had speech services at his teacher’s request when he was in second grade (before his 504 Plan was implemented), and I figured it’d be pretty easy to get them for the girl, too, especially since her speech issues are more severe. (I didn’t even realize LM wasn’t pronouncing his S’s right until the teacher told me.)

We expected to meet with the assistant principal (who also helps coordinate student services), the guidance counselor, BG’s teacher, and the school psychologist.

The school principal, a lady who coordinates speech therapy through the district, the school resource teacher, and the lead psychologist for the school district came as well. The school psychologist, who we absolutely loved with LM, wasn’t there. Things got off to a rough start with the lead psychologist (who we’ll call Asshole) asked why we were meeting. I was thinking, dude, there are like nine people in this room and you have no idea why we’re here?

I told him we were there to discuss accommodations for Norah’s ADHD and autism, plus talk about what speech services the school can provide.

“And where are you even getting this stuff?” Asshole asked condescendingly. “Where are you pulling that diagnosis from?”

My husband reminded him that we sent a copy of the report over weeks ago (and frankly, even if it didn’t make it to his desk, he should’ve come into the meeting with an idea of what’s going on). I brought in some extra copies I printed off and slid one over to him. Asshole made a face as if I placed a turd in front of him.

“I don’t want words on paper,” he snapped. “Where are you getting this stuff?”

“We aren’t just getting it from anywhere,” I said. “Following years of behavioral issues and developmental delays, we took BG to a child psychologist, who did a full work-up. Over the course of about a month’s worth of appointments, he did extensive testing and diagnosed BG with Asperger’s, or high functioning autism, and ADHD. He also noted that she has a language delay, sensory processing disorder, and motor skill coordination disorder. All of that is on the report from the psychologist.”

Asshole glanced at it and said, “Well, she might have a clinical diagnosis, but that doesn’t mean anything in a school setting, so I don’t know where you’re pulling this from.”

The speech lady spoke up and suggested we discuss her speech issues. So we did, and she said that BG likely wouldn’t qualify for speech services right now. They prefer to wait until they’re eight to start for the main sounds BG has trouble with. She did say that she would talk with her teacher on reminding BG how to form those sounds. The resource lady asked a lot of questions about her sensory processing and motor skills issues and said she could definitely work with her on that. She said she’d like to get an FM system for BG, too, and that it could deliver the teacher’s voice directly to Norah through headphones and that way she wouldn’t have to deal with so much background noise.

“She has to have an IEP and be a special ed student to go to the resource room,” Asshole interjected. “And I don’t know if we’re going to even evaluate her for an IEP. Maybe we’ll consider a 504 Plan.”

“We didn’t ask for an IEP meeting,” my husband answered. “We wanted her to get a 504 Plan to discuss classroom accommodations and speech.” I added that her teacher was already making the accommodations we wanted, but that it needed to be put in writing to follow her to other classes/grades. The lady over speech services said that she’d have to get an IEP to get formal speech therapy services, and we asked why LM got them without a 504 plan, and she said the speech services LM received were separate from that.

The resource lady asked if BG’s hearing had been tested and said some of the students she’s had before had speech issues because of hearing loss. I told her she was diagnosed with a mild higher frequency loss, but that her audiologist wanted to have her retested after she gets her tonsils out. She asked if there was a history of loss in the family, and I told her about my hearing loss.

I shit you not — Asshole chuckled. “WHAAAAAT?” he said in a loud, slow mocking voice. I’ve heard that mocking voice — the one indicated deaf/hard of hearing people are stupid — far too many times. If looks could kill. No one said anything for a bit until the assistant principal asked BG’s teacher how she did during the fire alarm yesterday, shifting gears back to the sensory processing stuff.

“Fine, no problems,” she said.

“Well, how’d she seem when you picked her up?” Asshole asked me.

“She was fine when I picked her up,” I said.

“I don’t see how there’s a problem with all of this then,” Asshole said.

“Oh wait!” BG’s teacher said. “I’m sorry, but I was wrong. She wasn’t there for the drill. She had already left for her therapy appointments when we did the drill. But I’ll make sure to give her a head’s up so she can put on her headphones next time.”

Asshole shrugged it off. The resource lady asked about meltdowns at home, and we discussed those for a while, with Asshole chiming in saying that these meltdowns are normal for kids in elementary school. Resource lady and the guidance counselor told him that while kids might have tantrums at home after school, that it wasn’t normal for a kid to have multiple meltdowns that get as extreme as hurting others and themselves. More shrugging off. He gave zero fucks.

The meeting lasted an hour. We were so pissed off by the time it was over. Again and again, Asshole made snarky comment after snarky comment. I can’t remember the last time I was around anyone who was so rude and condescending. I could tell he pissed off some of the other people at the table, too, because he was equally dismissive of their concerns or suggestions for helping BG. He also said it’d be easier if she’d just continue with her private therapies. I should’ve asked why he thought a kid with no problems needed private therapies, but I didn’t.

When it was wrapping up, the resource lady asked if she could keep a copy of BG’s evaluation. If she’s anything like the resource lady that I worked with years ago, she’ll probably try to help out BG whether she has an IEP or not. (The resource lady at my old school was an absolute saint and would include the kids whose parents would allow testing since she knew they needed help anyway.) The guidance counselor also asked for a copy.

“You can have this,” Asshole said and tossed it to the other end of the table. “I don’t need it.”

Perfect way to wrap things up.

I don’t get how someone who has never met my child, never heard the first teacher’s report about her, who wouldn’t even look at a psychological evaluation that’s sitting in front of him could just make up his mind and act like that. The lack of professionalism blew my mind.

After we left and discussed how horribly it went with that guy, my husband said he was going to talk to the principal and tell him that under no circumstance should that psychologist have anything to do with evaluating BG. Ultimately, all she needs is a 504 Plan with some accommodations in place, since we can continue taking her to therapies. And I know for a fact that we don’t need Asshole to initiate that. It’d be nice if those therapies were supplemented so she can make progress more quickly, but I’d rather keep things the way they are than have that douche anywhere near her.


On a positive note, I texted BG’s speech therapist yesterday morning about the tonsillectomy and said she’d miss next week. After her appointment yesterday afternoon, she told me she looked at her tonsils and was shocked at how large they are. She said that she’s had some patients in the past who had tonsillectomies that made incredible progress afterwards. She said when the tonsils are so large, it can push the tongue forward and cause speech issues. She said it’s not a guarantee that it’ll help with that too, but to keep our fingers crossed.

It’s amazing how much removing those tonsils could help. It will theoretically make the sleep apnea go away, which means she’ll get a more restful sleep. One of her doctors said that sleep apnea can cause ADHD like symptoms, so maybe those symptoms will improve. I’m sure that being more well rested would reduce her crankiness. And removing them might be able to help with her speech issues. It won’t help much as far as some of the other issues go, but that is still a lot. ❤

She Forgot She Is A Girl

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that I actually wouldn’t mind brewing you a cup today. We had a 3-day cool down, which ends this afternoon, but it was still a crisp 58 degrees this morning. Yesterday the high was 79, and between that and a breeze, it was absolutely glorious. We will return to the high 80s and 90s starting today for lord knows how long, but the reprieve from the heat was much appreciated.

We’ve had a pretty good week. The boy got his progress report on Thursday and had all As and one B. That’s a huge improvement from the three report cards he got in fifth grade (for his school, they only get report cards the last half of fifth grade; the rest of their 5.5 years there, they simply tell us whether they’re meeting expectations or not). Middle school is looking good on him so far.

The girl also got a progress report, and it said she is meeting expectations. We will have a 504 Plan meeting with her school on Tuesday. The VP was supposed to get stuff going on speech and occupational therapy services through the school before the school year started, but we found out that he has done nothing. (No surprise there, I could write a whole post on that guy.) So we’ll talk about that and other possible accommodations. Her teacher hasn’t had any complaints, so there probably won’t be a lot accommodations wise at this point, aside from stuff like preferential seating and using noise-canceling headphones. (She already takes care of that, but I guess it’d be good to get it in writing.) She manages okay until she gets home, and then she lets all of her pent-up frustrations loose.

I have been getting so cracked up at some of the papers BG brings home. Sometimes — mostly with math — she’ll scratch out the problem and write her own and answer that. “I don’t like their yucky questions,” she said. “I want my own problems.”

Here’s an example of one, although this one is more of a misunderstanding. She thought they messed up by not putting anything on the plate when it told her to count the objects and write the number, so she “fixed it.” ❤

The kids have taken an interest in scooters. LM’s friend sends him videos at the skate park, so LM wanted to try with a scooter he got for Christmas a few years ago. And since LM wanted to do it, so did BG. My husband took the kids to a church to scoot around in their parking lot this morning. When they came back, BG ran in and told me she had her very first scar. I asked where it was, and she yanked down her pants and underwear. 

“Look, it’s on my penis!” she informed me. “My very first scar is on my penis!”

Oh boy.

There was no scar. There definitely wasn’t a penis. I reminded her that she is a girl and girls have vulvas, not penises.

“Ohhhh…I forgot that I was a girl for a little while,” she responded.

That child.

We don’t have any big weekend plans. We’re going to a friend’s birthday party tonight, but that’s it. We’re going to take it easy tomorrow, and then we’ll get started on a busy week that will end with BG’s tonsillectomy.

Saturday Randomness

Yay, it’s the weekend!

And, yay, both sets of grandparents invited the kids over for Friday and Saturday! That means double weekend date night, a first in the history of Baby Girl. My husband and I went out last night to our favorite Italian restaurant and I had my usual chicken parm. (Obviously the 30-day keto challenge got postponed dammit.) It was so damn good. I had leftovers and threatened my husband’s life if he dared touch them like he did last time.

He also ordered a slice of chocolate cake, which ended up being enough for four people.

Yum.

I texted LM during the meal and taunted him with the cake, which didn’t amuse him very much.

Not shown is the other half of the cake, which we did bring home for the boy.

I doubt we’ll go anywhere tonight, so it’ll be a stay-at-home date night. He has whiskey and I’ll have rum and vodka, so we’ll do Hulu and for-real chill.

It looks like we’ll have guests in a few weeks. My in-laws are moving their mobile home and asked to stay with us for a few days. I love them to death, but am not looking forward to it, mostly because my father-in-law is the loudest person in the world. And as someone who a) takes out her hearing devices around him and b) is mostly deaf in one ear and has a severe loss in the “good” ear, that’s saying something. He and BG get going and it’s so loud that you literally can’t converse with anyone else in the room. Hello, headache town. They’ve always been good to us, though, so we could never say no to helping them out. I will be buying a new bottle of Excedrin migraine reliever, though.

This past school week ended up being good for BG for the most part. We had minimal crying in the mornings. On Thursday night, though, she had a meltdown of epic proportions because she didn’t want to go to school. She was in the bathtub of all place, and when it was time to wash up and get out, she refused because getting cleaned meant she had to go to bed soon and going to bed soon meant she had school in the morning. Oh my god, y’all. I came in to find her in the corner of the tub out of my husband’s reach (it’s a large garden tub) throwing water toys at him. I couldn’t get her to come to me, either, so I was like “fuck it” and got in.

Imagine this:

Except for it’s a 33-pound kid who is wet and somewhat sudsy from the bubble bath. And there’s also legs kicking, fingers clawing, and teeth attempting to bite. Plus screaming. Holy fucking hell. That’s the worst meltdown I’ve seen in a while. Lawdamercy Jesus, as my grandmother would say. We needed a truck load of Xanax after that.

We’ve been getting our Halloween costume plans together. Looks like we’ll do another family thing this year, and this time it’ll be Marvel Cinematic Universe inspired. BG is planning to be either Groot or Rocket or Loki, with a lean towards Groot because she wants to play “Mr. Blue Sky” on the phone and dance to it while trick-or-treating. I’m going as 90s grungy Carol Danvers, my husband is planning to be Bruce Banner mid Hulk-out, and the boy wants to be either Hawkeye or Black Panther. I love doing the family costumes! Last year we did the Incredibles and a year or two before that, we did DC. Now if our hell-on-earth state could just shift over to fall-like weather…

I’ve been thinking about a blog makeover. Maybe come up with a new name for it. Hmm.

What randomness would you like to share from your week?

Wednesday Funnies

It’s time for a few funny — or at least mildly amusing — things the kids have said over the past week.

Little Man and I have been playing Words With Friends with each other. (If you wanna play, you can find me at “supmynerds.”) I know we could play Scrabble, but this is much more convenient since we can just play it as we go. We were playing last night when the boy started giggling like crazy.

“Wait till you see what I put,” he said, still snickering. “It’s so inappropriate!”

I opened up the app wondering if “fart” or “poop” had made an appearance yet again. Nope. He spelled:

SEX

I chuckled. Here we go with the dirty middle schooler brain. (Or what he thinks is being dirty, anyway.) I imagine it won’t be long before “That’s what she said” clicks for him. Right now, he’s mostly chiming in with “That’s what she said” for perfectly innocent comments like, “I’m running to Wal-Mart now” or “Let’s watch something on TV.”


Over the weekend, the kids were tasked with picking up their toys in the living room and their bedrooms. BG was dragging ass, as usual, since cleaning is “the most yucky thing EVER.” (She usually changes her tune a bit when I bring out a trash bag to bag up her yucky toys to take to storage.) LM picked up something of hers in the living room and tossed it in the floor of her bedroom, which she took issue with.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to throw toys in the floor, LM. Pick it up and put it where it goes!”

“You’re a good one to talk,” LM said. “You’ve got toys all over your floor.”

BG huffed. “Well, you shouldn’t try to be like me.”

Cue LM getting the giggles.


This one started out rather annoying. LM had open house at school last week. He led us around to meet his teachers and got pissy when we wanted to meet all of the teachers on one hall before going to another.

“We need to go in order,” he insisted. “We have to go in the order the classes on my schedule is in.”

Walking all over the building from one end to the other multiple times in the crowded as fuck hallways? Uh-uh. Plus, we needed to hurry along and pick up BG so we could do dinner and baths and get in bed on time. We explained this, which put him in a hell of a mood. He walked to a couple of classes and glumly pointed out what they were and would try to take off before we could even speak to the teacher. By the time we were 2/3 of the way through the schedule, we were getting irritated.

And then we went to the gym.

The kid who wasn’t very happy about being pulled from a computer class (they put him in the same one twice) and moved to PE completely lit up.

“And this is where we have PE!” he said excitedly. “Come on, I want to show you something cool.”

He practically drug us to…

*drumroll*

The boys’ locker room. And it smelled like ass. I wasn’t sure what “cool” thing I was going to look at in the gym, but a gross locker room wasn’t on the list of possibilities.

“Come on, let’s check out everything. I can show you where I change and my locker and the football equipment.”

The PE teacher came in just then and totally cracked up. He said that was the first time a kid wanted to show off the locker room. We didn’t hang around in there long, because it seriously stunk. At least he got excited about something, though.

On another note, the teachers we got to talk to seemed to like LM. His English teacher especially. She mentioned how well-behaved and respectful he was and commented on how if she hadn’t seen his 504 Plan that she wouldn’t have known he had ADHD. That’s probably due to a combination of his meds and how much he enjoys their class. They switch up classes this week, so she’ll have in in the afternoon instead of the morning, so we’ll see if the meds are still working their magic by then.

Happy Wednesday!

Yet Another Lazy Weekend

The quality of my sleep has been garbage for the past couple of months. I’ve been falling asleep okay, which is a nice change from lying awake tossing and turning with a million thoughts racing through my head, but I still wake up feeling exhausted. That likely has something to do with Baby Girl joining us in the middle of the night. And laying with her head in my neck at times and kicking the ever loving shit out of my back at others. She joined us last night, too, but she got up with her dad at 7:30 and I slept until 10:30 this morning, so I feel good. It is so damn nice to wake up feeling refreshed.

We had a lazy weekend last week, and this one has been the same so far. My clothing changes have been limited to putting on fresh pajamas and I haven’t had to so much as touch a bra.

I’ll take swinging low at home any day over those damn restrictive bras.

I miss watching the kids play sports, but it nice to not have anywhere to be on Saturdays. (And three evenings during the week for more games and practices.) It’s good for LM to get a break, and BG didn’t want to play soccer anyway. I imagine we’ll sign her up in the spring whether she wants to or not just to get her out there and have her try again and see how it goes. Unless the boy does the winter play, all we’ll have to focus on is school until next February when soccer starts.

It’s almost fall, y’all. Soon enough I’ll be able to wear my preferred blue jeans and flannel shirts, which make me look manly instead of cute, but I love them. Fall is absolutely my favorite time of the year. We’re planning a weekend trip to the mountains in late October to see the leaves changing. That doesn’t sound very exciting, but it’s so lovely to look at. Plus it’ll be much cooler there than it is here, so bonus points.

With this being the first day of September, we’re starting a 30-day keto challenge. We’ve been doing keto or low carb on and off since April. I’m down a little over 30 pounds since starting, which is nice! I want to get back on only keto for a while since that seems to help my cravings better, plus I lost weight more quickly than only counting calories. I’m hoping to hit the 50-pound mark by my birthday. If I do, that’ll be my lowest weight since graduating from college and getting married. Fingers crossed.

Katie bug went to the market to get decorations for Christmas. She checked them out, then she went home. Then she watched a show. The End.

The girl crawled up next to me on the couch while I was writing and asked me to write out that “story” for her. She said she’s a writer now. ❤ And then she headbutted me on my forehead because she wants to start “head bumping” which is “like fist bumping, but better” she said. No, child, just no. I hope she doesn’t try to make that a thing at school.

Happy long weekend to those of y’all who get tomorrow off!

Anxious Kid And Reflux

Baby Girl has been having some reflux issues for the past two or three weeks. She has thrown up during the night twice, she complains about feeling nauseous sometimes after eating or drinking, and she has dry heaved after some of her meals. I had scheduled an appointment with her pediatrician for next week, and the reflux stuff was in full swing on Wednesday. She woke up around midnight and threw up once, and we got her cleaned up and back to sleep in our bed quickly. She dry heaved a little after breakfast that morning, but nothing came out and she seemed fine otherwise, so I took her to school.

BG cried about going to school again, which is par for the course. It didn’t help matters at all when we got to the school and the principal wasn’t out there with his dog. (The dog cuddles make her perk up a lot and then she goes into the building without issue.) She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the dog was missing and nearly had a meltdown. We sat on a bench outside for a while until she calmed down enough to go to class.

The school nurse called around 11:30 saying that BG was throwing up. The nurse said that BG told her she had thrown up that morning, “yet you brought her to school anyway.” I told her that I’d come get her, but tried to explain about her reflux issues, which she wasn’t having. I understand how frustrating it has to be when parents knowingly bring their kids to school sick and get everyone else sick, but that wasn’t the case. I should’ve messaged her teacher about it, though, so that’s on me.

When I got to the school, the nurse brought out BG. She said that BG told her teacher she felt nauseous, so her teacher sent her down. The nurse said that BG threw up twice, but nothing came out. That’s not throwing up and lines up with what I said about reflux, but okay. The nurse said BG didn’t have a fever and that another kid had a virus and was throwing up. I asked if that child had a fever.

“I wouldn’t know. Her parents didn’t bring her to school since she was sick.”

Argh. I again tried explaining about reflux, since those are the symptoms she had before, and that I wouldn’t have brought her to school if I thought she had something viral, but I could tell she thought it was bullshit. I guess I’m now that mom.

As soon as we walked out of the school, BG perked up and asked if I’d take her to Zaxby’s for lunch and get a grilled cheese. Hmm…surely my child wasn’t playing up feeling bad to get out of school, right? I got her a sandwich, but she just picked at it, so probably not. After we got home, I rescheduled the appointment with her pediatrician for the following day. On the off chance she did have something viral on top of the reflux, I wasn’t going take her to school anyway. She did more of the retching with nothing coming out. She took a nap and ate a decent supper, but woke up during the night after legit throwing up again.

When Baby Girl woke up yesterday, she asked if she had to go to school again. “I hate school! I don’t wanna go ever again!” (For the record, she has no specific complaints about school and seems to like her teacher a lot.) I told her she was getting the day off and that we were going to see her doctor, which made her happy. “Yay! I haven’t seen my doctor in a long, long time. I can’t wait!” (She saw her doctor in July for a well check-up, so it hasn’t been that long lol.) She didn’t eat much breakfast again and did a little more dry heaving.

We didn’t have to wait long to see the pediatrician. She chatted with BG for a bit and asked about school. We went over her symptoms, and the doctor said it sounded like reflux to her, too. She said she wants BG to go on a bland diet for a couple of weeks (no problem there, lol) and wants her to take a daily acid reflux pill and Tums or Rolaids as needed. I asked how to get her to take the acid reflux pill, as getting the child to take medicine has been the most challenging part of parenting her. She suggested opening up the capsule and mixing in the contents with a bite of yogurt. I’ve tried mixing medicine with food before and it didn’t work, but hadn’t tried yogurt.

The doctor told us she thought anxiety about school was contributing to BG’s reflux kicking up. Poor kiddo. She said if BG wasn’t significantly improved in a couple of weeks, that she wanted her to have an endoscopy to make sure there wasn’t anything else going on. I told the doctor about the interaction with the school nurse and asked what to do about that, since BG couldn’t very well come home every time she felt nauseous or dry heaved. They get 10 sick days, and she’s going to use five of those for her tonsillectomy next month. The doctor wrote a note to give to the school explaining that BG’s nausea and any throwing up were due to reflux and not anything contagious. She also put her line for the nurse to call if she needed a further explanation about BG’s condition. I’ve talked to BG’s teacher since, and we’re on the same page. I really hate that I didn’t contact her about it sooner and am not sure why I didn’t think of it.

I didn’t send in BG today because she slept awful last night. Her dad let her take a nap in the evening while I was out, and y’all know how that goes. She woke up at midnight and didn’t go asleep again. There was no way she would’ve made it through the day. I tried the yogurt trick this morning and it worked — my daughter actually took medicine without a battle! Huuuuge parenting win. The bigliest. BG seems to feel much better this afternoon. With the long weekend coming up, hopefully a few more doses of that medicine and not letting her eat a few things that could’ve been worsening the reflux will have her back to normal.

I hope BG’s school anxiety will get better soon. Her doctor recommended a book about kids with anxiety, so I’m going to read that and see if I can find something that’ll help with her. I’m going to bring it up to her occupational therapist, who has been working with her on coping skills for different situations. We also have an appointment with a play therapist next month, so if she’s not doing better by then, maybe that therapist will be able to help. Fingers and all the things crossed.