Ben has had a cold since, well, September. While his "daycare" is just him and two other little ones, since the other mom and I are teachers and Ben is a thumb-sucker, it's basically been one cold right after another for the poor guy. None have been very serious, thankfully. So he's had a runny nose for a couple of months, and it hasn't helped that he's been cutting molars for the last couple of weeks. Until a few days ago. The clear snot dripping down to his chin turned green. That's never a good sign. But as it cleared up within a day or two and he wasn't running any fever, I didn't think much of it. Until yesterday.
It was about 11:30, and I was finishing up Diptastic 2009. (hey, I was asked to do the hors d'oerves. go big or go home.) I looked down at my munchkin, who was on the floor playing with the mixing bowls and measuring cups; his face was covered in green goop. Awesome. His cheeks were also beet red, and when I touched it, on fire. Double awesome. So Matt grabbed the ear thermometer: 103.5. Crap. Besides being a mostly lame radio station, it was a fairly high fever, even for a toddler. I knew that when I called the doctor they'd want to know his rectal temp, so I reluctantly and apologetically grabbed THAT thermometer and some petroleum jelly. Two torturous minutes later: 104.6. Word worse than crap. I grabbed the phone and called the Kaiser nurse advice line, which told me I needed to take him in to Urgent Care as soon as possible. So while Matt changed his clothes I put the fresh and warm dips in the fridge, turned off the oven, and called my mom to apologetically cancel.
The nearest Kaiser urgent care is a wonderful two minutes away. It was mostly empty, which was nice. We didn't wait in the waiting room for very long, which was great, but as there were only two doctors on, we ended up waiting in the exam room for a while. Benjamin, who normally won't sit on my lap for any length of time as long is there is somewhere new to explore, was glued to me (with his thumb firmly glued to his mouth). So Elmo did a tour of the room, getting his tonsils checked, typing on the computer, doing dives off the supply cart, and sitting in the exam chair. Matt discovered buttons that made the chair move up and down. That got Ben out of my lap. He tried the buttons too, but to no avail, at least for a while. He finally managed to make the chair move, and he jumped halfway across the room. Suffice it to say, he reattached himself to me for the remainder of the time.
The doctor eventually came and looked at McSicky, who has a bacterial sinus infection. Twenty minutes, a box of baby motrin, and two bottles of amoxicillin later we were out the door.
At that point it was 1:30. We hadn't had lunch (we packed one and left it on the couch), and all we had in the cupboard to make for dinner was tuna helper. So we went back to Henry's, which was still open, and put together a little feast. For $25 we got a hunk of turkey, a carton of gravy, a bag of stuffing, a bag of frozen mashed potatoes, a bag of frozen corn, a ready-made pumpkin pie, and a bottle of wine. We grabbed fast food for lunch on the way home (not ideal, but we were starving and exhausted). Upon our return we tried to get the boy to eat, then put him down for his afternoon nap.
Side note: It appears Benjamin has finally hit a picky eater phase. He has been a human vacuum cleaner for the last 16 months. We have literally found nothing he won't eat. I keep hearing about picky toddler eater phases, and seeing things like "My one-year-old will hardly eat anything! Is that normal?" with a response like "Almost all toddlers go through that." The books and doctors say not to force any food on him, and if he shows signs of being done to stop feeding him, but we've never really seen it. Until the last week or so. Now he picks at his food and eats a few bites. Finally the eating machine has slowed down. And yet he's still in the 40th percentile. Go figure.
At any rate; back to Thanksgiving. After a long nap for Ben and some down time for us, Matt cooked our feast while I cuddled with Benjamin and watched Sesame Street. We then feasted and drank; it was most assuredly the feast I had been looking forward to for the last 364 days. The best part was at the end of the meal when I tried to give Ben his antibiotics. We basically had to pin him down and squirt the crap into his mouth while he writhed and screamed. Can I just tell you I am so very excited to do this twice a day for the next nine days?
After the torture session we played with a newly energized Benjamin. Who knew that four bites of mashed potatoes could provide enough calories for a second wind?
Around 6:45 he laid down on a pillow, thus signaling the end of the day. We bathed him and put him to bed, then settled down to watch a movie. Around 8:30 we heard crying, so we went into his room to finding him sobbing and crying "Emmo (Elmo)" (his Elmo doll had hidden beneath a blanket). Once Elmo was found and the singing seahorse started back up, he curled up in the corner and fell back asleep. He slept soundly until 7:30 this morning.
All irony and sarcasm aside, while it was certainly not either of the Thanksgivings we had planned, it was an adventure and a bonding experience. In the midst of the concern and the crying, I found peace and gratitude; peace in the knowledge that God was with us and kept us at home (can you imagine doing all of this away from home?), and gratitude for a God who provides and takes good care of us. I was sad to have missed out on family and those delicious homemade mashed potatoes and tasty gravy. But I learned a lot in the process. As I sat in the exam room holding my sick baby and watching my husband entertain us with an Elmo show, I felt joy and comfort. I am a good mother. Matthew is an incredible father. Benjamin is a precious gift. God is an extraordinary God. Also, there is very little that a glass of wine can't mitigate.
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