Speaking of attitude, yesterday, Cooper threw a 10-minute fit because he saw a 6-pack of Corona Light in the fridge and really wanted one. "Juice!" he insisted. He finally calmed himself down enough to stomp back over the fridge and throw it open to peer inside for another beverage choice (spoiler alert: we one have water, milk, beer, and wine, maybe a little vodka in the freezer, but I used most of it making pie crust). He found a container of half and half I bought to make chicken pot pie, decided it was a milk box, and pounded it-- all of it-- with lunch. I didn't stop him because I did not want another tantrum. He is noticeably fatter already.
In the midst of this cozy scene, the school nurse called to tell me Harrison was having CHEST PAINS. WHAT THE EFF? He has been on a hard-core drug used typically to treat gout and arthritis (neither of which he has, but Cooper probably has gout after yesterday's lunch) that was supposed to prevent inflammation. I, of course, freaked out, scheduled an immediate echo and cardiology appointment, woke up the babies-- who were PISSED-- went across the street and got both boys because I would never be back in time to pick up Jack, and took all 4 kids to the children's hospital, stopping at the Starbuck's drive through for an after school snack along the way.
Cooper is so funny with the to-scale Starbucks cup.
Harry is fine. Labs and echo fine. Cardiologist not worried. Next appointment in February. Chest pain unexplained. But he's fine.
Here's the gourmet dinner I assembled last night before leaving Ben with all 4 kids and hockey try-outs and a conference call so I could go to wine night: (I really am a hell of a catch, huh?)