A short list of why today did not rock:
1. Dean slept between Marcus and me last night....always a recipe for disaster. He also woke up every hour and a half SCREAMING. No fever, no obvious pain, just screams. Sometimes it was because he wanted some juice. (At least I think he wanted it. He stopped screaming when I stuck a sippy cup in his mouth, so Yes! He wanted juice.) Other times, it was like he was trying to start a conversation. Dean goes from zero to sixty in no time. He'd be conked out asleep, then suddenly screaming "Daddyyyyyyyyy! I go!" at full volume. My favorite wake-up time was when he stuck his monkey Stu's head in my mouth at 4:45. Good times.
2. I woke up feeling like sleep-deprived, congested poo.
3. I was still tripping on cold medicine during my class. This led me to make bad choices such as teaching them vocabulary words like "pouf" and "pumpkin pants." What's worse? There were illustrations. Done by me.
4. Marcus and I tag-teamed taking care of Dean this morning since we kept him home from school. He had a doctor's appointment this afternoon at 2:50. At 2:20, I figured I'd start getting him ready to go. I got his shoes on, his bag packed and went to grab my keys. Nowhere to be found. I texted Marcus, who was teaching at the time. Behold our conversation:
J: Any idea where my keys are?
M: In my pocket.
J: Nice, Lane.
M: Sorry? I love you?
J: Yeah. I guess I'm cancelling the appointment.
J: I'm calling to cancel the appointment.
M: No! One of our office workers is on her way with them now! Did I mention that I love you?
We made it with 30 seconds to spare. Not that it mattered. We spent 30 minutes in the waiting room getting infected with God-knows-what. The best part of this story, however, was when they asked for my co-pay and I discovered that in Marcus's pocket where the keys were living? Was my debit card.
5. Once in the exam room, the nurse lifted Dean's shirt to take his temperature and we discovered a rash all over his abdomen. I, being the cool, calm, collected and mature woman that I am, immediately started shouting something about Scarlet Fever. You'd be surprised how fast a pediatrician will run into an exam room when she hears "Scarlet Fever" being shouted in a southern accent.
6. Turns out, it was a heat rash. He'd been hugging me tightly for our entire stay in the waiting room and was blotchy. We did, however, get to endure testing for the flu (swab up the nose) and strep (2 swabs to the back of the throat), both of which came back negative.
7. The nurse doing the swab test missed one side of his throat the first time, so she had to swab it AGAIN, which made Dean gag and then barf all over my arm. It will be a very long time before I'm able to see or smell Annie's Macaroni and White Cheddar sauce again.
The moral of this story: At least we don't have the Hamthrax.
Here's hoping your day was better.