Round and round

This morning I arose, feeling mostly back-to-normal, eager to hit the gym and run a few errands before the big snow storm hit. Unfortunately, when the wee one got up, he was not very perky. One eye was swollen and crusted completely shut  (I'll spare you a more graphic description only because I love you, dear reader), his cough had deepened and sounded painful, and his only request? "Wah-dur".




The saddest baby.


Over the river and through he woods, to the doctor's office we go.

Any hopes I had for visiting the gym and the grocery store slipped through my fingers.  I dressed myself and the boys, packed the diaper/please-cooperate-at-the-doctor's-office bag while carrying and soothing my twenty-two pound patient.

We drove slowly through slippery roads - I cursed at a moronic driver and the big boy repeated me. Awesome.

I carried both boys into the office, through the slushy snow, because the big one has a tantrum when he gets snow on his spiderman shoes.

The appointment was miraculously on schedule and blessedly brief. The wee one too sick to protest the exam. An ear infection and conjunctivitis. Awesome. A curative slip of paper.

"Fifteen minutes" said the CVS employee through the drive-up window.
We fishtailed our way over to Wendy's to get horribly bad junk food nuggets, fries, and a frosty to bribe the boys while we wait in the parking lot.



"Fra-fry"


When we pulled up to the window, it was discovered they had filled the scrip under Hubs' name instead of the baby's. More waiting, only now with a crying baby.  As I contorted myself to supply the sick one with his binky, I dropped the insurance card in between my seat and the center console and had to climb out into the maelstrom to move the seat and rescue it. Don't even ask what else I saw down there.  Awesome.

Now here's a factoid you might not know about me: I am a hypochondriac, and giving my kids medicine terrifies me.

When we arrived home, I checked the expiration date on the big boy's epi pen, and briefly reviewed the instructions before I gave the baby his first dose of the antibiotics. He could have a catastrophic allergic reaction, you know. 

I steadfastly ignored the pamphlet that comes with the Amoxicillin, aside from the dosing instructions, the side effects and potential adverse reactions make my palms sweaty.

I held him for fifteen minutes after the dose, counting his breaths while he dozed in my arms. When I was fairly certain he wasn't about to stop breathing, I put him in bed, and wished I could hook him up to a heart monitor.

I hate this. 

Only nine more doses to go. Awesome.