The Plauge

Florence Nightengale reporting in.

As I type this I think I identify 3 different coughs up there and the night is young . . . I promise I won't spend the next 20 minutes filling you in the gory boring details of our 'House of Sick'.  But, I thought I'd put this here for prosperity's sake since Flannery has no idea what has been happening in this house for the past 2 days.  Oh, yes, Flannery has been in bed unable to speak, swallow, or smile since Friday evening.  She actually went to the doctor on Saturday morning (!!!!!) and got prescribed something called, magic mouthwash.  I kid you not, it said magic right on the rx.  Unfortunately, it hasn't been magic enough.  Poor Flannery.  And, Cayla has been right beside her sporting temps up to 104.  And, just this evening when we saw numbers dip to 99 she refused to take any more Motrin because it make her gag.  She's already back up to 100.  Lovely.  I didn't fight her on it because I had just used up all my kind-sweet-silly-medicine-swallowing-tactics on a certain little man who refused to take his antibiotic for an ear infection.  YOU CAN'T REFUSE TO TAKE AN ANTIBIOTIC.  That's against the rules.  Then your infections won't go away.  And, the infection will grow into a superbug.  And, the next kid to get it won't be able to use that same antibiotic.  And, you have to take your antibiotic because Elmo says you do (I'm totally breaking out that video at 7am tomorrow morning), and it says all over the bottle to take it regularly until it's gone.  I sang songs, I cuddled him, I acted silly.  I tried bribing him with candy, pancakes, a spiderman bandaid, and a sucker.  The sucker finally worked.  But, to make it work, I had to give the little lady some fake medicine (gatorade!) which she happily sucked down and got her sucker.  I put a sucker in my mouth, and popped one in Collin's.  Watching all of us eating suckers was too much for him.  After a couple of fake swallows (still 5 ml in there, buddy) he broke down and swallowed the d@#$ antibiotic.  Wish me luck tomorrow!

Which brings me to the topic of today's blog entry.  I have forgotten how to speak 3-year-old.  I was doing OK until Flannery went MIA.  As Collin would say; today was an epic fail in the parent/3-year-old communication department.  Usually he is so ridiculously 3 that I can save myself before locking horns with him.  And, if not, I can always pick him up.  Scream and writhe as much as you want, lovely child, I can carry you around all day if needed:)  I just need to remember the following things:

1.  Everything is MINE:  the video games at the hockey ring (how dare some teenager come and put money in his game!), the toys at the library (not even a soft spot for that quiet 2 year-old who only requires 1 truck), the gumball that some random child just got after a putting a quarter in, Cayla's shoes, our minivan, need I go on?!?!?

2.  Crying is the #1 form of communication.  Oh, man do we lock heads on this one.  How long are you going to sit in your chair and cry?  I'll give you another pancake when you stop crying and say, "Pancake, please.".  Or just say anything.  Or, just sorta stop crying.  Repeat this when your mitten is stuck in your sleeve, the Dora video ends, your sister has the bath toy you want, the teenager at the hockey rink has the audacity to sit at YOUR video game while you are playing YOUR other video game.  Get the picture.

3.  Never tell a 3-year-old what you really want him to do.  Ask him to do the opposite.  Always.  Do not veer from this rule.  Ever.  If you do, the mittens will never go on, the medicine will not be swallowed, the coat will not be hung up, and he will never get in the bath.  This last one cracks me up.  Tonight he stared at his bath for about 10 minutes before finally giving in and climbing in.

And, yet, who do we all love like crazy?  The little 3-year-old who meows like a cat, screams gleefully every time we get to the end of 'open shut them', can recite the book Homemade Love (ho-may yoooooooove), crawls into our laps, runs like a race car whenever there is more than 15 feet of open space in front of him, says 'ok' in the cutest way known to man, can crunch a lollipop in 5 seconds flat, and has been asking for Cayla for the past 2 days.

Ahhhh, the coughing has quieted upstairs which is my cue to get some sleep before it begins again.