Tuesday, February 3, 2009

I May Not Cry Over Spilled Milk, But Spilled Motrin?

On the floors that I JUST. MOPPED. yesterday? The floors that made me ache with horrible pelvic floor pain?

:sigh:

Yes, I totally lost my cool this morning.

Back up a bit and let me just say that Friday afternoon, I received a call from the school.

"Uh, hello, Mrs. Meyer?"

"Yes?"

"Hi, it's School Nurse, but it's not an emergency. Punkinhead came down to the health office for a bit this afternoon to rest as he was not feeling well. After about 20 minutes he returned to class and proceeded to throw up. Do ya think you can come get him?"

So I went and got him, and LMNOB since it was like 20 minutes before the final bell would ring. We made a trip to the grocers to get some gatorade and soup supplies - you know, things for an upset tummy. In the parking lot, he threw up again, poor guy.

Saturday he stayed home from the Daddy and Kids Snowshoeing extravaganza that had been planned. (Charlie Brown and LMNOB went and had a great time). He was puke free and showed no signs of fever or any other maladies.

Sunday night, he complained of being "cold" despite it being completely warm. And again last night, plus he put himself to bed at 7:00 instead of pushing the envelope past 8:30. So the bug is not totally gone and he was running a small fever right?

This morning he was A-OK. Until we started REALLY getting ready for school - then it was a fuss and suddenly his throat was hurting terribly. Remember, Punkinhead is pushing the limits lately, too. I proceeded to get the Children's Motrin and Tylenol out and stagger dose him for the pain. This is after all just a rotten virus going through the school.

And the struggle ensued.

My kids HATE medicine. Of any sort.

To the point that I usually have to tag team them with Charlie Brown, plugging their noses and prying open their mouths with the Jaws of Life to force the medicine down. If our society suddenly turned Christian Scientist (or whoever it is that doesn't believe in medicines), we'd undoubtedly be reported as child abusers. In the absence of Charlie Brown and the presence of a 3rd trimester belly, this proved to be more than difficult, and my painstakingly mopped kitchen floor wound up wearing the first med-cup of Motrin.

And I lost my cool. First I screamed a primal roar that conveyed my rage and frustration at the situation. My kids looked at me in fear, which was awful but I couldn't stop.

"YOU ARE THE CHILD AND *I* AM THE PARENT! YOU DO WHAT I SAY, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND! I KNOW WHAT IS BEST FOR YOU, SO JUST STOP FIGHTING!!!"

Punkinhead began to cry (again) and I snapped out of it.

"Honey, you need to take this medicine if you are going to feel better. Otherwise you are going to hurt all day and it's going to be no fun at all. You ARE going to school."

And that did the trick.

As we'd missed the bus by now, I drove them to school. On the way, Punkinhead announced, "Now my throat doesn't hurt anymore!"

I don't think they heard my teeth clench.






© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

5 comments:

  1. I have had my share of medicine fights. One of the benefits to them getting older is they can reason slightly better....not much but slightly!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Sounds like dosing a cat. I'm so sorry.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Sounds so familiar. Mornings suck.

    Hang in there, Friend!

    ReplyDelete
  4. My kids are so weird. They all love taking medicine. Especially the four-year-old. He'll ask for medicine when he's not even sick.

    But my mornings suck, too, just in different ways. Hang in there!

    ReplyDelete
  5. You haven't posted for so long! Hope you and the family are well :)

    ReplyDelete