108483310024715252

Where to begin? Sunday morning the house was completely unrecovered from the party but we headed to the grandparents’ for a day of yard work. When we got there we learned that my mother had what she ‘claimed’ was food poisoning. The day was spent starting the re-landscaping of my parents’ yard. It didn’t get finished of course. That evening we all went to Sarah and Noah’s choir program. Last night at bedtime Noah complained about his eye and I realized he had pink eye. The house still looked like a disaster because we hadn’t yet spent any time at home to clean up where we walked in the door from the scout meeting with bags and boxes full of yarn and the birthday party with bags and boxes of stuff and tossed everything all over the living room and kitchen. Also, no laundry was washed the entire weekend because of all the activities. Doug sat in bed and whimpered about his sore muscles for about 5 minutes before he fell into a deep sleep.

Flash ahead to this morning. Tommy’s school asked that we pick him up and take him to the doctor because his face looks awful. I’ll explain that better in his blog. So, I took a quickie bath, didn’t wash my hair and hauled the two boys and Amy to the pede. We were lucky enough to get a nurse practitioner which I greatly prefer to doctors. I had forgotten my driver’s license and credit card so I had to ask Doug to run them to me. He had a job interview and didn’t need our help to make his day stressful. Noah’s pink eye was confirmed and eye drops were prescribed. Tommy’s scratching had turned into impetigo so he got antibiotics, steroids and cortisone. Neither of the boys can go to school tomorrow.

From the pede to Burger King where Amy played happily on the indoor climbing gym. Then, straight to Tommy’s psychologist to try and find a way to stop the picking. We couldn’t find an easy explanation but Tommy gave every excuse he could think of why he would be so stressed that he’d scratch his skin off his face. The psych appt came during Amy’s nap time so she cried and fussed the entire visit. We came home and Amy went down for a nap. So did Mommy. Tommy made sure to wake me every 15 minutes with questions. “Can I build a tent?” “Where’s my D&D books?”

Awoke from the nap to my mother calling to say the dr had diagnosed her with a virus and not food poisoning. We knew that already since Noah started vomiting this afternoon. He continues to do so even now. Doug can’t handle yucky noses and jiggly teeth. I can’t handle vomit. The smell sends me into heaves of my own. I went to the pharmacy and spent a week’s worth of grocery money on prescriptions. Came home and Doug rushed out to handle our support group alone (couldn’t very well ask my mother to babysit). He forgot his phone. Of course, looking at the mess and state of people over here I wonder if he didn’t ‘forget’ on purpose. Amy is watching “Finding Nemo” for the second time today and my head is throbbing. I need a valium.

3 thoughts on “108483310024715252

  1. Doug never could handle loose teeth … not even his own when a shiny quarter was waiting as a reward.

  2. Looks like you have a consensus so far on the vomit. Dog poo is right up there for me on the gag-o-meter, though.

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