I may be jinxing this, but Bear is finally feeling much better. Thanks for all of your well wishes and prayers. I've been drugging him pretty heavily at the past few nights so that he will get some good sleep. Believe it or not, he has. No one is more surprised than me at this, because this sort of plan usually backfires on me. I am going to back off the cough syrup some tonight, though, as to not become dependent on it for his sleep.
One odd thing that has happened is that my four year old son has become a pill-popper. I had been giving him chewable benadryl at bedtime to ease the flow of snot. I can't give him sudafed at night because it keeps him up. Add to that albuterol and decadron and he'd really be ready to par-tay. Anyway, when we got home from the ER the other night after the pokies, I gave him some benadryl (the doctor okayed it). I was out of the chewable kind and Bear hates the liquid (can you blame him?!). But I did have the capsules that SD and SugarPlum and I take. I read the dosage and realized that one capsule was the same as two chewables, which is what Bear takes (yes, he weighs that much!). So, I asked him if he thought he could take a pill and he thought it sounded crazy, but better than the nasty "cherry" flavored crap, so he tried it. He did great, better than some adults I know. And now that's the only way he wants to take it. Bizarre.
So, since the second trip to the ER, the boys have been cooped up in the house. Fun! They have been inventing new and exciting ways to make Mommy scream. What scares them the most, I have found, is when I don't scream, but just sit on the couch and glare.
After they had dumped out every damned toy we ever owned and even somehow made some new toys materialize (I still don't know how they did that) in the family room and spread them all over in big, giant toy and debris mountains, I asked, begged, pleaded, demanded and yelled at them to clean up the mess already. After an hour of looks that said "Que? No hablas English," I gave up. I sat down upon the couch and started playing my handheld solitaire game.
That is how SD found me when he came downstairs. He said, "Hey, guys! Lets get these toys picked up!" And Bear said, "Okay!" and started picking up.
What the hell was that??
I just sat there and played my solitaire game and watched the show. SD looked at me oddly a few times as he and Bear picked up. Bug would have no part of it, other than to sing the Barney "Clean Up" song a few times. That is his big contribution to cleaning up most of the time. Everybody needs a cheerleader. It's a good thing he's so cute, or he'd be dead meat. Anyway, Bear and his daddy got things straightened up and I finally told SD that I was sorry that I was just sitting there watching. That it was either that or I would explode into apoplexy once again and frighten the children and neighbors with my shrieking. Given the choice, I went with option A: retreat into my solitaire game. SD agreed that it was probably the smart way to go. The good thing about upping my crazy pills is that I was able to see that option and make that choice. Before, I would have just screamed.
My husband loves me. Thank heaven. He puts up with my crazies and understands and makes allowances. Of course, I make allowances for his stuff, too. I suppose he is lucky this isn't one of those "Why My Husband is a Putz" blogs, because BOY could I go on. (If you ever meet him, ask him about the threat of the power sander.) But, really, I am a lucky woman to be married to this man. We have had a rough time lately, but we are muddling our way through. He is a blessing to me and my craziness. And I love him more and more every day!
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