Happy $@#%&*! Monday

I think I really should start every post with....

"We woke up when (fill in the name of the child) started puking at 5:00 this morning..."

My poor, sweet baby boy. He awoke, almost literally, on fire. After taking his temperature in that certain place where no one should ever have to have their temperature taken, the thermometer read 104.6. Shortly thereafter, he threw up all over my down comforter.

So while making lunch for Miller, putting on Gray's shoes, packing book bags, refilling cereal bowls, and wiping noses, I managed to talk to the nurse after holding for **only** 10 minutes this time. She said they wanted to see him since his fever was so high, and we could go in at 9:20. By this time, we were already too late to get Miller to school on time (DAMN IT!) We arrive at school at 8:35, five minutes past the time that we can use the oh-so-convenient carpool line. Into the school I schlepped with all 3 kids.

With Miller at school, I dropped Gray off at 9:00, and headed over to the pediatrician's office. After being assured by a completely adorable 14-year old resident (um, I'm so not kidding about the 14-year old part) that he was almost sure it was an ear infection, our doctor (who I have to admit I find a little dreamy) came in and assured me that it most certainly was NOT an ear infection. And since his throat was clear, and his minimal snot was clear, they really had no clue why my child was practially melting his PJ's this morning. He sent us over to The Lab.

Sadly, I had no idea what was in store for us. I certainly had no idea that giving a 7 month old a chest x-ray would involve a clear acrylic contraption that looks most remarkably like a baby bike seat with a tennis-ball plastic can thing attached. The really bad part is when they clamped him in there, his arms pinned up to the sides of his head. God, it was a terrible sight, and I cried just looking at him in that medieval torture device. And you know what I thought? Do you know what utterly ridiculous thought I had as my baby was crying? I was thinking "Damn, I wish I had a picture of this." And yes, I know that is completely screwed up.

The next stop was The Mean Lady Who Poked My Boy with Needles. She tied this terrible rubber band contraption around him to try to find a vein (ha!) and then stuck him and drew an entire vial of blood from his tiny chunky monkey arm. My job was to hold him tightly so he couldn't move. He got an Elmo sticker for the pain.

We then headed back to the exam room where Everett was jabbed in each thigh with a dose of heavy-duty antibiotic... the same antibiotic, mind you, but they decided to split up the agony into two pokes. Meanies.

After the trauma, my little man fell asleep in my arms. And we waited, and waited, and waited, until finally Christmas 2009 came and the dr. showed back up to release us. Until our appointment tomorrow.

(Oh, and the chest x-ray was clear and the blood count was normal. No clue why his fever is so high.)

the end. I spent the rest of the day lying in bed eating bon-bons and watching Oprah and Days of Our Lives.



KIDDING!! At 12:30 I had to take Gray to his speech evaluation on the advice of his preschool teachers. He passed! It took 90 minutes, but we made it through and his speech is not a concern. Yay! I think his shyness seriously gets in his way, but the speech is there.

I'm exhausted and need my jammies. Being a mom is rough work.

Oh, and my throat hurts so badly I can almost not swallow. SUPER!!