This can be one of the hardest things about parenthood, a close second to the temper tantrum of century for us. Getting your child to take their medicine can be damn near impossible. In our case, like ripping finger nails out one by one and pouring lemon juice on them. Hell, absolute hell.
B picked up scarlet fever when she was two. Where and how she got it is beyond me, but after a rushed trip to the clinic, it was confirmed. She had a rash ALL over her body, a huge fever, no appetite, she was throwing up on me, on the couch, in a bucket, in the toilet, it was rough. She was prescribed antibiotics. D and I knew that this would be a battle right from the start. While we would normally mix it with juice, B had already figured that one out. It was time for a new strategy.
D and I decided that we would have to force it down. It wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t fun, but it was necessary. The first time was one of the most awful experiences of my life. She and were both crying, while I gave her little squirts of banana flavored nastiness from the plastic syringe of doom. But I did it. I was a good mom. Pfffhhh…I was a fucking mess.
With every dose, we’d give her plenty of warning, five minutes, two minutes and then we’d do it, tantrum and all. After the third dose, we were both physically and emotionally exhausted, not to mention covered in spit up banana medicine.
Then, D came up with the ultimate hack. He put juice in one plastic syringe and medicine in another. And I was like, “Wait, didn’t we agree? Can’t we just stick to the plan? Please?” I just couldn’t take another tactic that would fail.
And then it happened. He gave her a little juice at first with one syringe, then slowly added the meds with the other. He filled up with juice again, and did another round. It worked! I couldn’t fucking believe it!! He finished it off, and she was all done. Every single drop. Pretty soon, she started to do the juice herself. It was actually fun for her, and she had a bit of control in the process too. I think that was a big part of it. A full cup of juice that tasted like ass just didn’t cut it anymore, and while she knew she had to take it, she had no control over anything.
Now,normally this would be a Rockstar Mommy post, but I believe giving credit where credit is due. Rockstar Daddy, we love you!!!!!
How about you guys, do you have a rockstar daddy in your life? One that just puts your mommy instincts to shame?! I’d love to hear about them!