#11: Does It Make Me a Bad Mom If – I Overreact

chiquitaI know my child. Moms know their child. Despite my own disposition for people my kid actually loves people and is a really happy-go-lucky almost 3-year-old. I know I’m lucky. She rarely cries. She listens. She is always smiling. I really hope as she ages she continues to be the free spirit she is today.

That said, yesterday morning she was up at 5:30 am. WTF. This kid and I sleep until almost 8 o’clock on the weekends. You gotta be shitting me right now.

The Chiquita gently rubbed my cheek. “Mama,” she whispered.

“What?” I mumbled; looking over at the clock. “No, no, no, it is 5:30. We do not get up this early. Sleep in my bed or go back to your bed.”

Soon after we got out of bed and she was acting like a maniac. A total maniac. Crying, whining, and just being totally annoying. Is that wrong to say? I’m like what the heck is wrong with this kid?

We’ve been trying to potty train her and it’s not going well. Seems as though the Chiquita thinks she’s the kind of princess that should have her ass wiped for her for the rest of her life.

All morning she’s having these mini meltdowns…crying to me that her pee-pee hurts. She had had a diaper rash during the week so I just assumed that’s what she was referring to. I soon discovered it had to be more than that when she had a complete screaming meltdown while trying to rip her diaper off yelling: “My pee-pee is burning, my pee-pee!”

My first thought – a bladder infection! Any woman will tell you that a bladder infection is painful. The joy of being seasoned is that you know when you have one so you handle it before it gets to the point where you feel like you’re urinating fire. Not so the case for the Chiquita.

I got the Chiquita into the pediatrician that morning and while waiting for her appointment there was a lot more screaming and yelling “My pee-pee hurts!”

When we got to the doctor they of course wanted to collect a urine sample. I had a feeling they would want that, as I myself have been through this before. But, when I called and said I suspected my toddler has a bladder infection they didn’t warn me to try to get a urine sample. It was a feat in itself to get there in spite of her meltdowns.

So here we are in the pediatrician’s office with the Chiquita sitting on a plastic “bowl” if you will and trying to get her to urinate. Anything we can think of. You can have a fucking pony kid, just take a piss!

She wouldn’t. She’s no dummy. It hurts like hell. So she continued to hold it. My pediatrician was completely useless telling me they wouldn’t do anything without a urine sample. I get it, but there was a part of me that wanted to knock his glasses off his face. With my fist.

We head home with the plastic piss bucket and a sterile cup. The doctor’s office closes at 2 pm. I was determined to get a urine sample back to the doctor by 2 pm. I know something is wrong with my child and I will not wait until Monday to get medication. #asswipe

Finally, finally, finally – at 1:30 she’s dribbling pee. Not enough for a urine sample, and I’m pushing on her tummy and holding her hands saying, “You can do it, baby, go pee-pee, you can do it!”

Her arms are wrapped around me so tight she’s strangling me. Big crocodile tears are falling down her face. My heart was breaking. This was my first experience as a mother where I would have lifted a car to stop the pain for my child. It was killing me. Literally killing my insides as she’s screaming blood curdling screams.

And then I’m crying. And she’s still crying. And then she peed. And then she was fine.

She finally got medication, took a nap, went to bed and woke up this morning at 8 am with a wet diaper. #ThanktheLord I thought we made it over the hump. Her 3rd dose of medication…she was happy and laughing and back to her jovial self.

I went to the gym to do my 10 mile run to keep up with my ½ marathon training. (Happy to report I did make the 10 miles! Yayy!) I get home and we decide to go to our town’s summer festival. I jump in the shower and see the Chiquita dancing around and crossing her legs. I know she needs to pee. I come to find out she hasn’t peed all day but a dribble. She literally hadn’t peed since whenever she peed the night before. It could have been 3, 4, 5 in the morning?!

Back to the bribing we’re telling her we’ll give her anything – anything – if she’ll go pee-pee.

“We’ll go to the festival and get ice cream as soon as you go pee-pee!”

“OK…”she mumbles, but not happy about.

I sit her on the potty and we’re back in the same predicament as yesterday. The Chiquita on the potty. Me on a stool, legs spread with her arms wrapped around my neck. Strangling me. Crying.

“You can do it!” I tell her. “Come on; go pee-pee so we can go get ice cream.”

She says it hurts, it burns, her tummy hurts, her pee-pee hurts, no mama, no she can’t go. We go through the exact same thing as yesterday only somehow today it’s actually worse.

Her tears seem that much bigger, her cries seem that much louder, and she’s trying to bounce off the toilet. My husband is trying to equate it to potty training. You know, she just doesn’t feel like sitting on the potty right now. Yeah, that’s why she’s screaming bloody murder and telling me her pee-pee hurts. #mensaythedumbestshit

My gut was telling me something was wrong, this is wrong. She is screaming at the top of her lungs telling me she can’t go pee-pee because “it burns, Mama, it burns.”

I need to take this kid to the ER. I’m thinking the worst. She has a kidney infection or kidney stones or I don’t know what, but this kid hasn’t urinated since 7 am so what if her bladder explodes and urine is floating around her insides!? This is messed up. This kid doesn’t scream and cry. She’s always giggling.


Don’t mess with a woman’s intuition. I know some women are crazy and with the littlest thing they’re at the ER. #nojudgement

But, I’m totally not one of those moms. I’m all suck it up and unless your arm is half ripped off you’re OK. But this to me didn’t seem right. Something was wrong.

“We need to go to the ER,” I tell Hubs.

He looks at me like I have 3 eyes. “She’s fine,” he says. “Just put her diaper on.”

Put her diaper on and what? Go to the fest like nothing is wrong? Are you joking me right now? #seriouslymensaythedumbestshit

I finally went pretty fucking mental and said I was taking the Chiquita to the hospital. With or without him.

The three of us are finally in the car and headed to the hospital. I’m holding the Chiquita in my arms and stroking her head.

“My pee-pee hurts, Mama, my tummy hurts, Mama.” She’s telling me.

“I know,” I say in a soothing voice. “We’re taking you to the doctor.”

“To get medicine?” She asks.

“Yes, to make your pee-pee feel better,” I tell her.

At the ER I asked the nurse if I overreacted while another nurse shoved a thermometer up Eva’s butt. #sorryEves

The Chiquita chowing down on goldfish.
The Chiquita chowing down on goldfish.

“No,” she assured me. “It’s not normal for them to not urinate for that many hours.”

My husband’s totally pissed. And we’re starving. He thinks I’m being a total spaz, and that I should have just let her sleep and hope that she peed in her sleep.

Our three hours in the ER consisted of the nurse trying to get the Chiquita to urinate, two nurses draining her bladder with a catheter, the doctor coming in and pushing on her belly, and lots of waiting. And then we were off.

Yes, she has a UTI infection. No shit. I didn’t need a medical degree to figure that out.

She needs to continue her antibiotic and continue drinking cranberry juice, which she’s been drinking non-stop. The doctor was very nice, don’t get me wrong.

I looked at him and said, “So, I overreacted, didn’t I?”

“No! No, you didn’t.” He said, though I’m sure he thought I was one of those typical over reactive moms. FYI, he told me if she had a kidney infection it wouldn’t be burning anymore.

What was even worse though was getting into the car with my husband. He will never get me to admit that I was wrong. I am this little girl’s mother and I will do whatever it takes to care for her, to defend her and to love her. #fuckyeah

So, if this ER visit was a waste of time and money, then sorry I’m not sorry. I did what a mom needs to do.

Yes, I overreacted, but I did what my gut was telling me to do, and I will never apologize for that!

Kissing the goldfish. Such a charmer this one is....
Kissing the goldfish. Such a charmer this one is….

Author: jlee5879

Office manager by day...struggling writer by night

4 thoughts on “#11: Does It Make Me a Bad Mom If – I Overreact”

  1. Awww, I don’t think you over-reacted at all! It is a mothers job to trust her intuition and you know your child far better than any ER doctor does…I think you did the right thing having her checked out at the hospital 🙂 She is so adorable, by the way! I loved your photos 🙂 Hope she is feeling much better soon! My sympathies to you with regards to the potty-training ~ my youngest son is almost three, and not interested in the process at all! Zero desire to learn….Fingers crossed we may be able to laugh about this moment in another year’s time when they are trained??!! 🙂

    1. Thanks for the message! She is finally feeling back to her normal self, thank goodness. Yes, this potty-training thing is tougher than I expected. Hang in there and crossing fingers for both of us that soon they are trained! Hope you had a great 4th. 🙂

  2. For a few months where Connor used to get the croup alot (from age 2 to 3) I was in the ER all the time…..I was SO freakin nervous his throat would close..overreacter,probably…but TOTALLY worth it…Hope she is feeling better.

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