A cold dared to invade our home. In and out, like a thief, taking with it, my happy, well-adjusted children. Oh, a sly cold, indeed. Making itself known while Brian is out of town and there is only me to do Every. Single. Thing. A diabolical, evil cold that left me with a baby who has cried very nearly non-stop for 3 days. A cold that entered 4 lungs rendering them wheezy and requiring generic steroid prescription that doesn't taste "dood" and breathing treatments.
Something must be very wrong with my sweet baby boy. I am so tired of his whining and fussing and crying; I would gladly sell him cheap. Real cheap. I just do not respond well to screaming that goes on and on with no discernible rhyme or reason. Like now. He's been screaming in his bed for at least 20 minutes. Not fussing. Not whining. Full-on screaming. He is teething and he does have this cold issue, but I don't seem to be able to make it better for him. Is there anything more frustrating that that?
Reagan is not feeling like herself either. She's obviously feeling froggy because every simple request from me gets an automatic "no", either verbally or she just stands there silently begging me to do something about it. When I get up to oblige, she begins her screaming frenzy. I love it when everyone screams at the same time. This morning we had the Screaming Trifecta. I can't think of a time where we've had more than 3 screaming and crying at one time, and only a few times where there was 3. Today, one of those mornings. Let's see, it was Bubba, Reagan and someone else. Oh yeah. Me.
I was very frazzled this morning trying to get everyone ready for school appropriately dressed with lunches made and where they needed to be on time. It did not help matters that Bubba only wanted to scream and Reagan made a very large puddle in her bed and therefore needed an emergency bath wherein she emptied the whole bottle of soap in the tub with her. Not really her fault since I'm the one who left it tubside the other night. Trying to get Bubba to eat when screaming was on the menu...just an exercise in futility. Of course I was irritated when Reagan spilled her whole cup of milk on the floor mere seconds before we all had to leave. I'm not gonna lie: it's still there.
Last Wednesday did not rock either. I usually reserve my meltdowns for Thursdays. In fact, for the last 5 years, Thursday is known far and wide as Meltdown Thursday. Wednesday cannot become the new Thursday. There is really no room for it there. Wednesday has its own set of problems. It is not tough enough to handle weekly meltdowns. Only Thursday.
I'd write more, but someone is still screaming...