Well, the rest of our little weekend getaway was rather uneventful. I realized that I had also forgotten to pack socks for Boopsie… I brought four outfits for two days (be prepared!) but somehow forgot to bring any socks, so she wore the same pair for three days in a row. We took her in the hotel pool, which was fun… watching her go from very skeptical to enjoying herself.
It was when we returned that all h-e-double-hockey-sticks broke loose. I pulled Boopsie from the car seat and she was a burning hot little rag doll. She’d had a fever on Saturday, but we didn’t have a thermometer. I took her inside and took her temp… 102.7. Add a degree… it’s 103.7. That, combined with her totally lethargic demeanor (she could barely lift her head) made us decide to get right back into the car and head for our first trip to urgent care.
Ahh… urgent care on a Sunday in January. We waited 1.5 hours. We did get some interim help from a nurse who took her temp again (still about 104) and gave us ibuprofen, which seemed to perk her up a lot. Anyway, saw the doctor and he diagnosed a double ear infection. That’s when things got interesting:
My wild banshee from last week? Double it. Actually triple it.
She also decided that all medicine sucks… event the stuff she used like (such as Tylenol and ibuprofen). Currently, the protocol is amoxicillin twice a day (HATES it), and tylenol or ibuprofen about every three hours (dear god… it’s like the toddler apocalypse every three hours).
Food is also a problem. Today I pretty much fed her yogurt and graham crackers. Thankfully, we took a trip to my parents’ house where she had a bit of the omelette my dad made me.
Last night I was up with her at 11:30 p.m. 12:30 a.m., 2:30 a.m. and 3:30 a.m., at which point I brought her into bed with me. This morning when Boopsie woke up she immediately started kicking and hitting me. I tried very hard not to take it personally, but the less than awake, less than mature part of me thought, You’re welcome, my love.
I had the day off (Thank you Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., for all the awesome things you did for our country and I hope you are resting in peace), so I stayed home with my crispy She-beast. And let me tell you… it was a mental and physical thrashing. When Daddy-o arrived home from work I basically ran out the door. I took refuge in a grocery store — how lame is that?
Anyway, the whole way there and back all I could think about was how hard this has been, and how much of a freaking wimp this makes me. I am spent. I’m exhausted and I’m burnt out. From one day… ONE DAY! How do stay-at-home moms do it? How do parents of children with health problems do it? How do I keep going? And how long until those damn antibiotics make her feel better?
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an important date with a Grainbelt Nordeast. That will be all.