Never A Dull Moment
Rob and I tiled our master bathroom floor, hung wainscoting on the walls, painted, redid plumbing, installed new toilet and sink, redid electrical and installed new light fixture. There are a few finishing touches left, i.e. the crown molding, wainscoting cap, medicine cabinet, and then more painting (oh yea!), but then the room will be completely done.
I completely cleaned out two of my children's bedrooms to include rearranging the furniture, washing the draperies, and scrubbing the walls where someone decided to color on them. The children in these two rooms are packrats and the condition of the rooms was nothing short of disgusting.
But now after untold hours, countless boxes of crap brought to the attic that I was not allowed to throw away, several bags of garbage I manage to sneak by them, and quite a few expletives, the rooms look great.
My eldest son is finally feeling better. I was beginning to worry that the antibiotic was not working well enough or that he did have a tonsillar abscess. The ped had mentioned it as a possibility, albeit a rare one, and said if he wasn't able to open his mouth fully in a few days and eat normally that we would need to see an ENT about having it drained. Oh what fun that would be... a needle hating kid with an extreme gag reflex having a huge needle down his throat to drain this thing. He would really be traumatized by the experience, as I am sure I would be as well.
But as he gets better, there is always someone to take the place as the sick one. This time my 8 yr old and 4 yr old are vying for the position. The 4 yr old began screaming after dinner tonight that his ear hurt, and he screamed and screamed until finally the Motrin kicked in. He has never had an ear infection before, but with the hacking cough he has had this week it wouldn't surprise me if this was the first.
My 8 yr old is complaining that his throat hurts on one side, and if we are going to the dr for the 4 yr old I might as well have him seen too.
And while I am at it, I may as well just have Rob's entire paycheck directly deposited into the pediatrician's bank account. Because once we all step into that petri dish otherwise known as the waiting room, we'll be back. And back. And back again.