As you all know, my poor Little A has already been confirmed with strep a couple days ago. When he was at the doctor, he had a fine rash (lots of teeny red dots) all over his torso and sort of starting onto his cheeks and legs. The doctor saw this and knew right away that he had strep and swabbed to confirm it.
So here we are, the third day on antibiotics, and now he looks like he’s got ant bites all over his hands & feet! I feel sure that this is the same sickness, so I’m reluctant to take him back to the doctor again (shameful, I know). But Big Daddy keeps suggesting all sorts of other maladies that it could be (Poision ivy? When he’s only been indoors? Really?!) so now it’s got me worried. This weekend is Little A’s visition with the “Sperm Donor,” as we so lovingly refer to his biological father (only when Little A is out of earshot, of course), and I am particularly worried about him getting worse when he isn’t with us. I am Mommy In Charge, and I want him in my sight at all times, especially when he’s sick, but this is one of those times that I’ll have to let go. I’ll just miss him more than normal and worry about him the whole time.
In other news, Big Daddy and I are having a date night! We’re going to the drive-in theater, probably to see Mirror Mirror, but we haven’t decided yet. He wants “beer for dinner,” so we are going to Atlanta (and Little Five Points – Home of the Hipsters, no less) to try a place with an 11-page beer menu. YUM!
It isn’t often that I am separated from Jackson (maybe once for every month since he was born?) so I am always a little pitter-pattery when we are apart. He is a perfect angel for us, but it seems like no one else knows how to handle him, because we get negative reports every time. “Oh, gosh, he just fussed and fussed the whole time. I couldn’t get him to sleep more than 15 minutes! And he wanted his diaper changed every 30!”
Lord help. That kid is in reliable cloth diapers and only needs a change every 3 hours unless he did a shadoobie. To get him to sleep, he needs a swaddle. That fussiness? He’s either lonely or bored. It ain’t difficult, people.
(This is why I prefer to have kids-included date nights.)