Sick! Sick! Sick!

Mr. Peanut had his first (well, second if you count the fact that his parents are morons and took him there his first night home from the hospital) trip to the E.R. last night. He had a cold yesterday and the poor little man woke up from his nap the equivalent temperature of an Easter Ham. He was also as snuggly as my cat who thinks my lap is his own personal lounge chair and pretty much pushes me down regularly on the insistence that I should be in a recline position for his sleeping pleasure. Considering that Collin is your typical on-the-go toddler, this was unusual to say the least.

When the thermometer reaches 103 and he wants, actually wants to not only sit on my lap, but lay on my lap, I am not only concerned but FREAKED out. He didn't whine, complain or cry, but just laid on me like a dishtowel that had been boiled. So, I called the doctor, who was pretty much unconcerned but said, sure go to the hospital. Wheee! Permission! Anyone with Tricare knows my feelings. Alas, urgent care was closed by now, so E.R. here we come. Too bad we didn't know urgent care was closed...a fact we learned as we pulled up to the door. Pooh!

So we went to the E.R. where we sat behind no less than three other babies with scalding hot foreheads. Apparently, we weren't the only parents freaking out that day. The best part of our visit was the gender-ambiguous triage nurse who gave Collin his first dose of Tylenol and took his vitals. I'm so used to talking to Collin about what other people are doing or saying to him, like "Oh look, she's putting a magic bracelet on your ankle," or, "Be still while she measures your super temperature. Yeah!" You know how stupid we are when we talk to our kids, right, trying to make everything sound fun so they are still and cooperative.

Well, filling in those gender identifiers, like she/he became very sticky. I kept switching between she and he and feeling very embarrassed. After the first time, I thought I'd better not say anything again that forced me to refer to this she-he's sex. But blast if I didn't keep doing it. It was so freaking obvious. I felt like such a boob. So much so, that I kept looking at she-he's entire personage for ANY clear sign, including she-he's boobage area for that sign. But darn if she-he wasn't probably wearing the best smush-down sports bra ever if she even had boobs. Grrr.

Bryon saw her later and he insists that it was indeed a her. Where was he during the whole triage thing! Oh yeah, parking the car. Thanks, Dada. Alas, we were in and out quick thanks to our friend Pat the ambiguously gendered triage nurse who "fast-tracked" us to a special area for sniffly kids.

Ear infection. Thanks Collin, for making it totally unclear what was wrong with you by not pulling your ear or screaming in pain, just for nearly boiling your brain and freaking your mother out to the point that she ate about thirty Maalox last night by the time she went to bed. Hope you enjoy your two weeks of antibiotics. He feels better now, tylenol, motrin and the first dose of antibiotics will do that for kids. They are like magic, aren't they?