I remember thinking that 4 months was a magical milestone for Barrett. I was so happy that his stomach settled and that his screaming ceased. Then, at 5 months, I thought that was the most miraculous month. And with each month that followed, it just got better and better. At eleven months, our progress seemed to halt. Barrett went in for surgery and the month that followed including a much fussier babe than we had known for quite some time. Of course, I had a horrible fear that the Saturday Baby we knew and loved was no longer and that we were entering a new mood for a one year old man. It’s not that Barrett was never happy for the month of January and beginning of February, it was more that he was fussier, clingier, and much more needy than he had been.
The first time mom in me was certain that this was an attack of the terrible twos one year early. I thought, “Really… this is the way you choose to be advanced?”. Luckily though, my momdar was off and sure enough, Saturday Baby has returned and of course, I now think that 1 is pretty fantastic. Barrett is one happy chappy these days and is becoming more independent. With this independence, of course, comes exploration. And with this exploration comes Advil. Yep, you read that right. The other day, Barrett found his way into a travel sized bottle of Advil {go ahead, judge away} and while I wasn’t sure if he had ingested any of the aqua gel tabs, I bit the bullet and made a call to poison control.
Much like the day that Barrett rolled off the changing table, my first {and hopefully last} call to poison control is something I will never forget. To be honest, after assessing the situation and nearly convincing myself that it was highly improbable that Barrett had, in the mere minutes we were apart, figured out how to open the bottle and throw it back, I really debated calling. Who really wants to call a complete stranger and explain that, once again, 2010 is not the year that I would not be crowned Mother of the Year {holding out for 2011}? But, better safe than sorry and so, this is what followed:
Poison Control Lady {PCL}: Hello, Poison Control. Could I get your name and telephone number?
……..
Me: My son seems to have found his way into a bottle of Advil.
PCL: Okay. And how many did he ingest?
Me: I’m not really sure. I was in the other room.
PCL: Okay.
Me: I’m trying to let him explore. You know, because he’s one… and he’s trying to be more independent. And so we’ve been working on that… And I didn’t call right away because who really wants to call a stranger and tell them they’re a bad mom.
PCL: Okay. You said he’s one… how much does he weigh?
Me: 17 and a half pounds.
PCL: And he’s one?
Me: Yes. He was born small.
PCL: Okay. Let me do a calculation… please hold.
…….
PCL: Thank you for holding. Okay, based on his weight, Barrett would need to have ingested 6 Advil in order to take him to the Emergency Room. Do you know how many were in the container to start with?
Me: Um, do people actually know that?
PCL: {laughter}
Me: No, not sure but I highly doubt he took six.
PCL: Okay. We recommend you give him a snack and don’t let him take any more Advil.
Me: Sounds good. I will watch for any head spinning and vomiting and I will limit his Advil intake. And hopefully the next time he has a headache, he’ll just tell me. Am I going to get a follow-up visit after this call?
PCL: Only common callers get follow-ups. Hope the rest of your day goes better!
…….
So, after a day free of spitting pea soup or head rotating, I am fairly certain that we avoided a catastrophe with the Advil bottle. Guess that’s the end of Barrett’s explorations for the near future.
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