Heavyweight Juvenile Wrestler Caught Doping

This week has been brought to you by Jane's incessant need to put random objects in her mouth. I'm not sure when it happened exactly, but sometime last week, Jane's mouth made contact with a surface with which a sick child had also recently made contact. A small thing, really. Nonetheless, it led to a wasted week and a lot of misery for everyone involved, most of all Jane.

When Jane got sick last week, I was irritated and tired. Mainly because I had to go in to her in the middle of the night and hold her while she screamed and coughed. I am not a good night nurse. Both my kids slept through the night before they were three months old and I can't help but think it had something to do with my less-than-cheery disposition in the wee hours.

Monday it finally became clear that the cold, which should have passed long ago, was getting worse. Three hours of Healthreach fun later, Jane was diagnosed with "the beginnings of" pneumonia (which I believe was gentler way of saying that she has pneumonia but it isn't to the point where she's coughing up blood on her white lace handkerchief like they do in all the Jane Austen novels). I was given the choice of taking her home or checking her into the hospital. Of course, I chose to take her home. Chris canceled his work trip (thank goodness) and went to pick up the giant mystery bag o'meds from the pharmacy.

Jane is finally starting to improve, thanks to the miracle of modern antibiotics and a healthy dose of steroids. Just in case you're wondering, yes, babies do get roid rage and, no, it isn't fun. Another perk is that she will have a lingering cough for two or three weeks. That means I'm going to get paid back for all the skunk eyes I have given parents for bringing coughing kids out in public.

Now that Jane is over the worst of things, I can start being annoyed at the fact that I am sick for the fourth time in six weeks. Before I had kids, I hardly ever got a cold. I thought I had a super immune system. Turns out I just had a hand washing compulsion. Those sorts of things don't keep you well when you are hauling around a 24 pound sack of germs for several hours a day.

I am adding "not being sick all the time" to the list of things I'm looking forward to when my kids get older. Right behind "not having to wipe poopie bums" and right in front of  "being able to have a meal out with the family without wanting to kill myself". This list will come in handy when my kids are cranky teenagers and they hate my guts. And in the meantime, it will give me hope that this too will pass.