Colin pooped in the bathtub tonight. Well, more like diarrhea. Every kiddo has done it at least once now... It was just really, really, really something that I didn't need to deal with tonight. But, it capped off a really crappy week, so it seemed fitting.
We were supposed to have Spring Break this week. Jordan was off to Oklahoma, and I had plans to some fun things with the little ones. Instead, we all got sick. I've been wiping noses, wiping up vomit, washing clothes, towels, etc... all week. All week. ALL WEEK. Crap.
Then, I finally got to feeling a little better today and thought that maybe we could salvage this crappy week by doing something fun. The first Friday of the month is a hiking day for our homeschool group. That sounded like fun. But first, I was convinced that I needed to get in to see the Dr. ASAP because my lymph glands under my jaw were swollen and hurt - I've felt it before M A N Y a time.. it almost always means an infection. Made my appointment, with time to spare to get to the hike, and let the morning unfold. By the time the appointment rolled around, I was tired. I had tried to get caught up on the all of the dishes that had piled up during the past few days, and I ended up wearing myself out. Showed up late for the appt. I thought it was 10:30. Nope. 10:15. On the way up to the appt. Owen got into the elevator before me, and started pushing buttons. The 'Help" button to be exact. Crap. Not so helpful. I get to wait in the waiting room for an extra 10 minutes while they find a way to squeeze me back into the schedule. The nurse shuffles all of us to the examination room. I can already tell she is irritated with my children. She begins with the basics: Weight.. (crap).. moving on. Blood pressure 122/84. Pulse Ox. good.
She leaves. The kids are opening drawers, pushing buttons, pulling levers. At least they are not screaming or jumping up and down. Yet. I look up. There are two pictures of flowery meadows on the ceiling. And a picture of Hugh Jackman. Another of Brad Bitt. In a male Dr.'s office. Ewww. That's just wrong. To be lying there getting a pap test done by a male Dr. and look at a sexy picture of Brad Pitt? Ewww. Dr. comes in. Strep test. Negative. He recommends Lidocane for the pain, faxes the prescription. We're done.
We drive to Subway to get some sandwiches. We've missed the beginning of the hike, so it's on to Plan B. As I order our food, I see a friend come in that I haven't seen in years. I'm in the midst of paying, but we say 'hi', admire each other's children, and say goodbye. I leave the store, get to the park, and as I am unpacking and divvying out the food, I am missing the apple slices that were supposed to come with Rylan's and Owen's meals. Crap. Stupid cashier - I asked the cashier if I needed to grab them - he said 'no'. (of course I was also distracted...) We hang out at the park and have a relatively nice time. I got Colin to drink from a straw - yay. I guess that would have to be the highlight of the day.
We left the park to do a dreaded shopping trip to Target. We are running out of everything. This was going to be expensive. I go to pick up my prescription. The pharmacist kindly informs me that she has never dispensed Lidocane as my Dr. prescribed. (a gargle??) "If you ingest enough of this, it can cause heart failure." Nice. What kind of crap did this Dr. expect me to take?? With children in the house? I said thanks but no thanks. Hopefully the sore throat will go away with time. But I ask myself this: What was this Dr. thinking?
Get home for a few minutes of downtime before it is time to pick up Dean. I check Facebook. Mistake. I made a comment earlier in the day about my disgust with the Republicans in the Colorado House that vote down Civil Unions (in committee) from going on to a vote in the entire house. I didn't mince words. I am pissed. Equal rights for all, damn it. Several friends gives a thumbs up, but one in particular calls me down. Not only calls me down, but downright chastises me for expressing my opinion. read: **my** opinion. Please Don't Poop in my Bathtub. My Facebook wall is my platform, as is my blog, to express (as I see fit), my joy, heartache, anger, happiness, fear, confusion, etc. If you don't like it - Don't Read it. Don't take a public crap on my words and my opinion. If I offend you, Don't Read it.
Don't Poop in my Bathtub.... and Please Don't Eat the Daisies either.
