And she is SO STRONG in cross-country sleeplessness, too.

Okay, so yesterday. Would you like to come with me on a luge ride down memory lane?

After finishing school with the boys and shoving some lunch in front of them, we piled in the van. Picked up Tim, Tre's friend. Drove to Nate and Gabe's house. Dropped off Tim, Tre, and Max so they could luxuriate in the nerf war/playstation/teen/tween boy atmosphere. Backed away slowly, being careful not to make eye contact or any sudden moves.

Then we drove to Josh's house (after one wrong turn - who puts Progress Circle a block away from Progress Drive? Have some imagination, people. Kira. There, I named a street for you. Kira Street.), and collected Josh and his spanish project. Drove to Jackson's house to deliver Josh, Raphael, and their spanish projects. Left them, musing about the joyous decibel level in the house with those particular three boys together. Wondered how much work was actually getting done. Thought sympathetically about the little twitch under Jackson's mom's left eye.

Aaaaand then I drove to the pediatrician's office, because parenthood is nothing if not an endless pop quiz. In about twelve hours Sophia had gone from being a little sniffly to being completely miserable with a barking cough and this gaspy, wheezy breathing that just wasn't happy. And I know what you're thinking - croup.

Okay, yeah, it was croup. With stridor, which is the medical term for "pitiful gasping noise specifically designed age the mother of the patient rapidly."

She was having enough trouble breathing that the doctor prescribed oral steroids. Oh, and antibiotics for the ear infection, because of course she had an ear infection. So we left, went to the pharmacy, went back to the pharmacy (this PARTICULAR pharmacy seems entirely staffed by idiots who hate me and are afraid of ever hitting any speed above "lackadaisical"), and home. Clay picked up Josh and Raphael and returned each to their own home. Tim's dad dropped Tre and Max on our doorstep.

Clay and I gave Sophia her first dose of the steroids, and she started breathing better right away. But you know what this means, right?

Now she can't compete in this year's Olympics.

Comments

[Heathere]

Pity about the Olympics. I think you should go out for the pentathelon, myself. Did I just invent an event? Excellent.

[Amy]

And Kira wins the Gold...uh and the silver and the bronze!

[Laura]

Well, hey, you win some you lose some. She's young,the Olympics will come around again!
My 18 year old daughter is also on steriods, antibiotics and an inhaler. Good news? She took herself to the dr., pharmacy and PAID FOR IT.
There really is a light at the end of the parenting tunnel!

[Karate Mom]

Hee hee! Update us on how Sophia does on the steriods, OK? When my daughter was little, long enough ago that I don't remember how little she was...maybe 18 months?...she had croup and was put on steroids. They worked wonders for her breathing, well enough that I called the doctor after two days and begged, "PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE can I stop giving them to her? She's turned into the Cranky Demon Child From The Pit Of Hell!!"
(She was a little...ummm...high spirited...before that, though, so that might have had something to do with it!)

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