Last weekend the Hubs went out of town for work. (If you can call sitting 20 rows back at the ACM awards work. If you can call partying with the artists and friends and families work. If you can call seeing Carrie Underwood and Steve Tyler harmonizing on stage just a few feet from you work. Anyways. . . . . )
Bjorn started acting all grouchy and tired the day the Hubs left. From the truckloads of drool and relatively low 99.something fever, I figured he was teething, gave him some Tylenol and frozen washcloths to chew on. The next day, fever was the same, drool was the same and Bjorn was a Grump. Grouch. Crank. Nasty to be around. When he asked to go to bed at 7:30, I got down on my knees and said 'Thank you! Thank you, yes! Thank you!'
Because I am just that good of a Momma.
The Hubs got back Monday afternoon and by Tuesday afternoon he had decided that Bjorn's cough was just not going away and we were taking him to the Doc.
Why hadn't I already taken him while the Hubs was away? Because the last time this cough came about, the Doc said there was nothing you could do for a toddler with a cough but wait for it to go away. No meds, nothing. And because the fever was gone. I was sure the kiddo just had some phlegm from teething, or maybe some allergies. Nothing Doctor-worthy.
But I indulged the Hubs, paid my $40 copay and waited for the Doc to tell us all was good.
Except she didn't. Instead she told us that he had a double ear infection and his tonsils were red and swollen. Probably strep throat, too, but since the meds for an ear infection and strep are the same, there was no need to test him for strep (i.e. stick a huge long Q-tip into his throat and scrape against the swollen tissue) unless we just really had to know. We didn't.
So, I was wrong. It wasn't teething. Or just fussiness. The kid was seriously sick.
The day after we started his antibiotics, he slept 12 hours through the night (as he normally does) and then a four hour nap he had to be woken from. Apparently, the kid was finally able to sleep. He was exhausted.
The first day was no big deal to give Bjorn his antibiotics. He thought it was kinda fun to take the meds from a syringe.
But then, once he got a taste of it and realized that this was no cherry Popsicle, he threw a fit every time I came near with the meds. Arms flying, snot flinging everywhere, cries of animal desperation -anything to stop me from giving him medicine. By Day 2 my patience was gone and I dreaded every med time the way most people dread the dentist.
Until. . . .
The Hubs decided Bjorn shouldn't get all the meds himself and instead "gave" the medicine to the Dog. He put that syringe right up to the Dog's mouth (finger over the nozzle part) and, since Dog will eat anything and lick anything, it looked just like Dog was eating it. And that she was enjoying it. Which only made Bjorn want it.
"More. More. Doggie. More." He said, pointing at himself and then Dog. "More Dog."
So we alternately gave him and "gave" Dog the meds. No fight, no fuss. Now, if we ask him if he wants to take his medication, he goes to find Dog so he can share it with her. All the time asking for more.
And that, my dear Bloggy friends, is why kids have two parents. One to take him to the Doc on a hunch and a whim and one to roll their eyes and go along with it. One to struggle and lose patience and grit their teeth and one to come up with a fun, easy solution. Although I won't admit this often and will probably delete this post before the Hubs can read it and decide that Father really does know best, this week was definitely the Hubs' time to shine. He wins.