Well there were alot of things I wanted to write about this week, but of course life got in the way and I've been too busy, too tired, and my brain too numb to come up with anything. After my glowing post about how May was the best month ever, in comes June to give us a big reality check.
It all started on Friday, my usual day off with J. We immediately should have known something was up because he slept in until 7:30am (trust me, this is sleeping in for him). As soon as he woke up we could tell he didn't feel well -- he didn't want to eat or drink, and he didn't want to do anything but lay on our bed watching TV. Oh yeah and he had a 103.2 fever. Yikes. There were no other real symptoms, just lethargy and fever, so we loaded him up with Motrin and he basically hung out on the couch all day. By the end of the day the fever had only come down a little bit to 101.0, and thus began the Weekend Illness Shuffle: Go to Urgent Care or ride it out? How long with a fever should we be worried? 24 hours? 48? (Yes I know, I'm a doctor, as my husband never fails to point out. Why don't I know the answers to these questions? I'm a vet, people. If he was a puppy he'd already have the appropriate antibiotics and maybe an IV. Since he's not a puppy, I'm just as clueless sometimes with these things as every other parent.)
The fever continued throughout the weekend. I had to work on Saturday and when I got home J looked a little better but along with the fever he acquired Extreme Crankiness which resulted in Extreme Satanic Tantrums. I'm serious. At one point in the midst of one of these 30-minute episodes of screaming, kicking the floor, and growling (best way I can describe it), TH looked at me and said, "I don't think he needs anymore Tylenol. What he needs is an exorcist." Then we laughed kind of nervously...just kidding, right? Right?
That was pretty much how our weekend went. We tempted fate by going to Home Depot on Sunday for much-needed house stuff, and of course The Universe rewarded us with one of the most embarassing public melt-downs J has ever had. I won't go into detail except to say that as we were trying to scoop him up from the floor (where he was doing that flailing limp rag-doll thing) this pregnant lady who was looking at nursery wallpaper was standing there with the most horrified look on her face. You know, that judgemental look we all gave moms with screaming toddlers in the store back when we were still the supermom who hadn't had kids yet. I wanted to say, "Sorry to burst your bubble, lady--what you just witnessed wasn't bad parenting, it was a glimpse into your future," but instead of being snarky I figured she'll find out on her own eventually so I smiled apologetically and gave the Lame Mom Excuse: "He's just tired."
Sooo....here we are on Monday. J's is at daycare (after much debating again this morning about whether he should stay home) and I'm back at work. All I have to say is THANK GOD we're going on vacation in a couple of weeks.
Practice makes perfect
8 years ago