And why they never go to Nolan's side of the bed?
(Actually, I can answer that. They could've lost an arm and be bleeding out, and Nolan would say, "You're fine. Go back to bed.")
So. The boys are at my bedside in their little boxer-briefs, shivering, and Ethan tells me, "I can't breathe."
If you don't have children who have had upper respiratory troubles since they were 15 months old, words simply cannot express how much you hate those words. I immediately go into Super!Mom mode. Like I hadn't been asleep for the last 5 hours already. Out comes the nebulizer, the Xopenex, and the pedia care & tylenol. I sit with him while we do a double treatment, and he goes back to sleep rather easily. I, on the other hand, did not. And as a little extra added bonus, I think I've got it, too.
His fever keeps coming back, but the flu and strep tests were negative when I took him to the doctor yesterday morning. Any advice from you moms on the f-list? If not, we hunker down and wait it out.
Aaron is an iron man. The child never gets sick, and he's a little indignant that Ethan's getting to stay home from school again.
Please let us get better before we have to spend 16 hours in a car. Pretty please? With sugar on top?
And a little side of delightful: reenie1sent me MUSIC yesterday, and it's freaking AWESOME, you don't even know. I'm listening to the Best of Led Zepplin (according to her) on the car ride home, looking at Ethan in the rear view mirror to make sure he's alright, thinking that he's going to make a comment about the new music. Because he notices when I get something new. He didn't say a word. I chalk it up to him being sick.
Then, I get him home and tuck him beneath a blanket on the couch, and stick in Bridge to Terabithia, and he says in a small little voice, "Mom? That CD in the car rocked."
I have to agree. It totally did. :D