Photo: Urgent Care is better than a straight-up ER, but it’s still not an ideal place to spend the afternoon.
So, The Husband and I were sick on Friday, so I actually spent most of the day in bed. I got little work done, despite much to do. But I needed the rest and I took it knowing that I’d have today to recover. I went to bed last night, announced my intention to the universe of getting up early, getting the coffee going, and sitting down for a good chunk of work time. The Husband was supportive. All was well.
I got up at 6:30 (later than I wanted), made the coffee, booted this computer, sat my butt down to commence to working. I got about three slides into the presentation I’m working on and the pitter patter of little feet came from above.
Lord in Heaven, I even know why I try.
I’m deadly serious: I want to know if children are genetically wired to respond to particular brainwaves their mothers give off. EVERY TIME I settle in for some good, satisfying thinking, some little boy wants something. Basically, what I’m trying to say is, my brain is so ridiculously awesome that I seem to omit waves that travel through the floors of my house and also rouse children from their slumber. What a gift! What a talent! What a joy!
Before long, The Husband was also out of bed and down the stairs and asking for me to make Mom decisions. My opportunity was gone before I could have even begun. I should have gotten dressed and left the house for a quiet spot.
It didn’t take long before the boys were fighting about something or other. In a rage, Major bit Minor (yes! With his teeth! Like a heathen! What the hell!?) and I was near about to send all three of the men in my life into the world beyond this one. I was going to rip a hole in existence and cast all three of them into it. Then I calmed down and settled for simply sending Major to his room for a talking to.
I got up there, began my lecture, and noticed a red blotch on his face.
And on his arms.
And lifted his shirt to find it on his torso.
Anyway, long story short, we all got dressed and heading for our doctor’s office where they have urgent care available, even on a holiday. The conclusion was some sort of mystery allergic reaction to something we can’t pinpoint. Benedryl for the rest of the day. That was 2-and-a-half hours of my life today. By the time we did all that, did the Costco run, got things put away, got dinner going… anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I’m way behind.
The little tiny bit of thoughtful energy I have remaining in my day I need to finish working on this presentation. I have to give it on Sunday and there is a lot of collaboration that needs to happen between now and then. If only I can get this ball rolling. So please excuse me for the short post which ballooned into something longer than expected.
The boy, by the way, is in fine spirits. The medicine seemed to work. He’s not contagious or uncomfortable. I’ve been given the greenlight to send him to school tomorrow and I will. Gleefully. Because this mama has got thangs to do. So everyone keep their fingers crossed for me less I am greeted with more surprises.
I hate surprises. Always have, always will.
Happy Monday? Indeed, Happy Monday, Dear Reader. You are still here. There is so much to do.
Until Wednesday, take care.