It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

T-minus 11 days.  That's what everyone tells us anyways.  In 11 days our three year old will turn four and peace will reign in our home.  Not to be cynical, but I'll believe it when I see it...

Take this past weekend for instance.  Rather than sit at home while Jason went on one of his boys' trips, Charlie and I road-tripped to Virginia Beach to spend the weekend with the Barletts.  Having done the same thing last year and had an easy drive and fabulous weekend, I was expecting bliss.  I was wrong.

The drive itself was fine with the rain letting up at South of the Border, and the friends were a delight, but the three year old was just too much.  No, he didn't break any laws (or even any furniture) and his head didn't spin around or anything, he was just unendingly defiant from Friday afternoon through Sunday morning. 

That's right -- Sunday morning.  His behavior, the endless corrections and the repeated time-outs got so exhausting that we left a whole day early.  It finally came down to the realization that if I were Tony, Lea, Lakely and Cashton, I wouldn't want to spend my Sunday afternoon dealing with Charlie's frequent assertions of, "I"m mad" and my subsequent reactions.

So at 11:00 I made the call and by 11:30 we were on the road.  I have all sorts of justifications for his behavior:  he'd been sick last week, he missed his Daddy, he's not around anyone other than me 24-7, blah, blah, blah.  Bottom line?  He decided to be a brat and forced my hand.

To make sure he got the point, the 6 1/2 hour ride home was devoid of movies and/or kids' music.  After passing our third racetrack (who knew I-95 was a NASCAR enthusiasts Road to Hana?) we did find the race on the radio, though.  Charlie never could understand why they weren't talking at all about how Daddy was doing, though he is fairly sure he heard Jason clapping at one point...

Lest I portray the weekend as a complete failure, I should point out that the homemade pizzas on Friday evening were delicious, the Stroller Strides class on Saturday morning was a blast (though I still struggle going up and down stairs -- lunges are evil!), Lea's and my girls' night out was fabulous and the joy of both Charlie and I getting to spend quality time with some of our very best friends was amazing.  I am just so grateful for patient, gracious friends and the miracle of squeezing so much laughter, life-updates and relaxation between tantrums. 

You really can't underestimate the gift of genuine friendship, and I would do it all over again in a heartbeat...though I might come up with some more effective consequences in advance.  Besides, by next year we'll only remember the pom-poms, wine and bunnies anyway (assuming of course my glutes stop burning by then...)

On the mend...

Charlie woke up yesterday morning fever-free and in a great mood, so Jason and I were convinced that the worst was behind us.  Hoping to ensure a full recovery (and still wary of being contagious), I went ahead and cancelled my afternoon meeting and settled in for a restful day at home.

All went according to plan through lunch and bath, but as I was drying Charlie off I noticed a rash all over his torso.  Uggghhh...

Still indecisive, I first thought it was just from too long in the tub, next convinced myself he had scarlet fever and finally called Jason to confirm that I should in fact take him to the doctor.

As any parent knows, a Monday at the pediatrician is like a war zone.  Add to that the fact that it was a school holiday, and I knew strategy was critical to avoid spending the rest of the day playing with germy toys and exposing ourselves to untold boredom and ailments.

Thankfully I remembered that Sweetgrass takes a lunch break from 12 to 1.  It was 12:50, so Charlie and I jumped into some clothes and drove on over to find an empty waiting room and a slightly annoyed receptionist. 

Yes, I knew that I didn't have an appointment, but I also knew that they were much less likely to be backed up at the start of a shift and that they leave gaps in the day for "emergencies", so I politely explained our situation and requested to see a doctor at the earliest opportunity.  She clicked and typed and glanced at me then clicked and typed and glanced at me and finally told me she was shocked to discover that she had a 2:00 opening, "very unusual for a Monday", but hesitated to even sign me in yet since the doctor wouldn't be back from lunch until 1:30.  Jackpot!

Charlie and I stopped by his old daycared (next door) to pick up a tax form, buzzed over to CVS to stock up on supplies for our upcoming road trip and swung into Publix for potatoes and garlic for dinner.  At 1:45 we walked back into the waiting room and were comfortably chatting on an exam table by 1:50.  I think Jason summed up my feeling best with his response to my bragging text, "You the MOM!"

After a lengthy discussion with the nurse regarding whether or not he would get a shot, Charlie was a trouper for the strep test and flirted with the doctor when she arrived. She was a bit taken aback when I couldn't give her an exact temperature reading for his fevers (I tend to test with kisses on the forehead, not a thermometer), but dropped it since his temperature was normal. 

Anyway, turns out that while Charlie's rash is unrelated (???) he does have strep, but the doctor did say that she could barely see signs of it in his throat -- making me feel a little less negligent. 

We are currently three doses into his ten day amoxycillin regime (which might break him of his desire for bubble gum for good -- he's not a fan), and despite a nose like a faucet, my little man is laughing, dancing, racing, playing and having a ball watching the men wash the windows care of my groupon that expires tomorrow. 

Now the trick will just be convincing him to change out of his "cute jammies" tomorrow when we reenter society.

This might possibly sound like the most ridiculous thing I've ever written on this blog (and yes, I realize that is saying a lot...) but we don't do sick well at this house.

In fact, I'm not even sure how one would do sick well.  I don't mean to be complaining...after all, a big part of the reason we're so confused when one of us is sick is it's a rare occurrence.  Even when Charlie was in daycare we didn't suffer through the bouts with strep throat, ear infections, hand, foot and mouth, etc that are so common.

And despite the fact that I tried to convince my mom I was sick every September through May Monday morning from 1984 to 1995, I hardly ever really was.  So I haven't a clue how to handle this stuff!

How do you know when to go to do the doctor?  Charlie has a sporadic fever and nose like a faucet, but he's playing and laughing... We never went to the doctor when I was a kid and I turned out ok.

How do you when you can and can't leave the house?  Fever equals contagious, I know -- but what about when the fever comes and goes?  Did we get the entire Childrens' Museum sick yesterday morning because I thought he was well?  Are we going overboard to already write-off church in the morning, since he just put himself to bed at 6:00 and his is useless for breathing?

Should I be banishing him to his bed all day (even though he managed to stay awake in it for over an hour and a half looking out his window) or should I be indulging him with all the movies he can watch?

Should we be trying harder to wake him up for dinner when he just told Jason that he wants to come down, but not until "his teeth get tall"?

How do people figure this stuff out?  I am convinced that we skip the stuff we could rightly attend and attend things radically infectious -- but how do you tell and is it really realistic to just drop out of the world for a week plus whenever someone is sick? (We cancelled our first commitments on Wednesday and at this point, with a little boy who just told me "I feel even more worser," I'm not sure we'll resurface before summer.

And yes, I'm one of those moms who neglects to medicate.  He doesn't have a cough and I do believe that a fever is the body's way of fighting infection, but would I be better off drugging him up -- if only for comfort's sake.  But then, would we wrongly infect even more masses?

Ugghhh...  We just don't do sick well and I pray that once he's recovered we go back to our ignorant bliss.  My baby is miserable and I'm not helping matters, so this just stinks!

Life Lesson #13,022

You can only fool them for so long if you allow them access to the outside world...


Charlie: Guess what I saw from my window, Mommy!  People getting icecream from the music truck.  Can you believe that?  Icecream from the music truck?!?!

Mommy: Sigh...

The Best Picture Ever!

Or at least I'm sure it would have been had there been anyone around to snap it...

Last night was movie night, complete with Lion King 1 1/2 on the DVR, blankets, skittles and cheesy popcorn in the living room.  (And yes, I was holding a damp rag the entire time...baby steps...)

Anyway, while it may be cute, the semi-sequel is no Lion King, which combined with a cozy, jammied baby, warm blanket and glass of chardonnay had me dozing long before 8:00 -- and I wasn't the only one. 

As soon as the popcorn bowl was empty, all five of us were out cold on the couch until well after 10:00.  I just wish I could have a picture of Jason, Charlie and me cuddled up in a line with Otis and Louie draped across our laps -- and a cacophony of snores ringing out, I'm sure.

Friday nights really don't get any better than that... 

Hello!

So, we do still have internet access...we've just been so busy having fun lately that I haven't had time to write anything. 

Our January was all about building and playing and being together.  Charlie is as crazy as ever and closing in on four years old way too fast.

Here are some pics, but I have to run...time to have more fun!