2 Sick Babies

Nighttime is my favorite time of day. There's no whining toddler, no fussy baby, no Elmo on t.v... it's like heaven, only with more chocolate.

Last night I couldn't sleep. Freakin' insomnia. 1am, and I'm tossing and turning. When I finally feel sleep coming on, I hear Eric over John's baby monitor. John, of course, doesn't hear anything as he's fast asleep. Eric is moaning. And moaning. And moaning.

At this point, I am wide awake so I look at the monitor and see him tossing and turning. Eric is a sound sleeper, and unless he's sick, you don't hear a peep from him until morning. I decide since I'm awake anyway, I'll go and check on my semi-asleep child. I stroke his forehead. Wow. Awfully warm. I know he has a fever. Now I have a decision to make- 1)Wake him up to take his temperature, or 2)Let him rest and take it in the morning.

I'm sure you can guess which one I chose.

I head back to bed. John's still asleep. Since I'm wide awake, I figure John needs to know Eric is sick. The conversation went something like this:

Me: "Eric is sick. He has a fever."

John: (Half-asleep) "Huh?"

Me: "Eric has a fever."

John: *Snore*

Eric has never been sick. Don't hate me. He inherited Mommy's immune system of doom that attacks life in all its forms- virus, bacteria, grass, food... (he had a bad reaction 2 weeks ago that we think is related to yellow dye from some waffles he consumed. Yes, waffles.) So you can imagine my surprise by him being sick.

It's my fault, really. Last week I joined a gym that has free child care for up to two and a half hours a day. And it has a pool, hot tub, steam room, and sauna. I figure if Mom is happy, then everyone is happy, right? Eric didn't take to the child care at first, though the room looked like something out of a Toys R Us catalog, but once he started bringing his blankie, he was happy as a clam there. Rachel does fine, of course, except when she is overly tired, so I go first thing in the morning when they're rested and fed. It's glorious. Unfortunately, this opens them up to tons of germs.

Rachel also had a slight fever today, but she's teething. Poor thing; every time I look at her she's chewing her fingers like they're saltwater taffy. But I digress...

So after getting almost no sleep, I get up this morning and take Eric's temperature and it's 102. A friend told me her son had a fever with no other symptoms that went away after 24 hours. I'm convinced Eric has this, but the pediatrician wanted to see Eric anyway. Turns out Eric has hand, foot, and mouth disease. Sounds disgustingly awful, doesn't it? Like Mad Cow run rampant. But apparently, it's pretty common.

For the first time in my life, I go to the store to buy children's aspirin with Eric whining his feverish head off in the child seat and Rachel with her fingers in mouth, screaming in pain between bites. I then head to my old pediatrician's office. I'm actually in the process of changing pediatricians as the old practice are being real jack asses about my delaying vaccinations for my kids. Plus every time I go there, we are the first ones in and the last to be seen by a doctor. I'm convinced it's because we're "those people" who the doctors scorn as they think I must have watched an episode of Oprah and decided to expose our kids to measles, mumps, tetanus, polio, ebola, leprosy... all out of fear. (I tried once to explain about the auto-immune diseases in my family and why I'm hesitant to inject live viruses and various crap like animal fetuses and aluminum into my kids, but no one wants to have an intelligent discussion so I stopped trying to explain.) I think it's a conspiracy by the practice to make our visits hellish so we'll go elsewhere. John thinks I'm crazy.

I was right. It is a conspiracy. Waited 45 minutes to be seen. Got copies of their charts before I left. Vow to never go back.

After getting home, I wrestle Eric to the ground to force-feed him children's Tylenol. And his temperature went down. Still won't eat much because he has blisters in his mouth. Poor little guy. Yet even though I know he's in pain, the whining must stop. 12 hours alone with a screaming, teething baby and a sick, whining toddler is hell on earth.

Now the kids are in bed, but I can't rest. Instead, I need to head to the grocery store to buy Popsicles for Eric, teething tablets for Rachel and a box of wine for me. A BIG box of wine.

As I'm about to leave I hear this from John-

John: "In case your curious..."

Me: (sarcastically) "I've been sitting here all day babysitting sick kids, but dying of curiosity about the very thing you're about to say..." (I'm bitchy when I'm stressed, ok?)

John: "'Sarlacc' is in the Wikipedia!"

Me: [pause] "You have way too much free time on your hands..."

John: "In case you're wondering, the plural for 'Sarlacc' is 'Sarlacci.'"

Mommy needs a drink.