We Live in a Horror Movie

Now that both kids recovering, it's like we're living with those horror-movie kids that keep popping up out of nowhere.  You think they're fast asleep in their beds, and then you turn around and almost step on them.  Or, you wake at 2 am to disheveled hair and saucer eyes blinking at you over the edge of the bed, willing you to wake up and let them climb in.

These pictures are old, but, alas, a 2:30 a.m. wake-up call from a kid saying, "I'll never te-ell," is not my idea of a Kodak moment.


Speaking of demonic possession, I have a sweet little vignette to share with you from our adventures at Mike's clinic yesterday.

 Let me back up a minute to say that Sarah is THE TOUGHEST out of all of us when it comes to illness.  She never complains or even shows the slightest trace of discomfort. Of the handful of times in her life that she's been sick, we didn't know it until she was on the mend.  Meanwhile, I whine on the web, Will milks a cold for three weeks, and Mike is always the sickest of all of us (according to him), requiring Gatorade and bed rest for a hangnail.

Anyway, all this to say that when Sarah puked all over her bed the other night, we sat up and took notice.  And changed all of the sheets, scrubbed the floor, and did laundry.  Mike made an appointment for us to come on in and be checked out, so we dragged in late (of course) and generally made a spectacle in the waiting room.  Once they called us back, the examination revealed a double ear infection and Strep throat for Sarah. Wha?! Trooper, I tell ya.  Since we had one kid with a positive Strep test, the NP recommended that we get the little man tested too, a task that proved much easier said than done.

Will has a natural fear of doing anything that another person (especially a parent or authority figure) wants him to do.  We wanted to perform a perfectly painless procedure of swabbing his throat with a Q-tip, so, therefore he did NOT want this done.  Even as I held his arms still and clasped him against me, he thrashed and kicked while the nurse tried to find a way to swab his mouth.  She did finally get the Q-tip in briefly, so I let him go.  Will ran to a corner, folded his chubby arms across his chest and hissed at all of us like the feral beast that he is.

So, what were the results of all of these efforts to tame the wild man? Inconclusive, due to the patient EATING the test.