Anyway, maybe it's the snack or the quiet house or the lovely Mother's Day we've had, but I feel grateful for my life and all the people in it. And I am not even drinking. Although I did start the day with a surprisingly strong mimosa-- maybe the brunch bartender felt bad for us as we wrangled 4 tiny kids-- and I was nostalgic for my day-drinking days. Ah, college. Ah, grad school. Ah, life before Mother's Day was about me.
Cooper did, of course, still have a fever on Friday. That's it, though, just a fever. 102.5 the second his Tylenol wore off round the clock. No other symptoms except general lethargy and crabbiness. He even fell asleep on the floor a couple of times. OF COURSE we went back to the pediatrician because after Harry's ordeal, I am "that mom" and will go to the doctor seeking antibiotics for every sniffle from here on out even if Ben is in class and I have to take several children by myself. Cooper lost his shit again OF COURSE, and I had to hold him for his exam while Dorothy lost her mind in the stroller (and it seems that Cooper begins freaking out the moment I pick up the baby, so I had to put her down mid-scream, but it was too late-- Coop was already cray-cray). Luckily he had an ear infection and scored a script, so the doctor did not have to culture his throat. He feels much better and is back to his usual living Build-a-Bear self. Phew. (Dorothy, though, has what looks like diaper rash in her neck folds, and Jack looked really sick at dinner tonight, so we might be back in the office before our already scheduled well child checks-- 18 months for Coop, 2 months for Dorothy, and 5 years for Jack-- next week).
My awesome parents sent me this on Thursday as an early birthday present, proving that you should always be Facebook friends with your parents because they will hear you crowdsourcing your friends and buy you good gifts.