The Strep Test

Megan is famous for praying sickness on herself at bedtime, so she can stay home from school the next day. She's even gone as far as licking things she knows Amanda's mouth has touched, in hopes of catching whatever illness her older sister was "lucky" enough to have contracted.

A couple nights ago (read 3:00 AM), she was crying with a fever and sore throat. I tried to comfort her by sleeping lying next to her in her twin bed, which suddenly felt more like the size of a preemie, than a full grown twin. In between her tears ...

Meg:  Remember all those times I prayed to get sick?

Me:  I do.

Meg:  I never thought it would be this bad.

Cue the sound of my heart breaking. Obviously that's all she needed to say, for me to stay put. 

Well today was Meg's 4th day with the fever and sore throat. I'm not one to immediately run to the doctor, but when she woke up again this morning in tears because of the pain, I made the phone call. They wanted to see her to rule out Strep.

She was all smiles as we waited in the examination room, until it dawned on her that she had no idea HOW they test for Strep. So she asked me, all nervous like, how they do it. In a split second the following debate took place inside my mommy brain ...


Oh boy. It's just a little swabbing of the throat, but is that gonna freak her out? 

Is she gonna start crying and bolt for the door when I mention the giant Q-tip? Probably shouldn't use the word GIANT.

If I downplay it and it's the worst thing she's ever had done at the doctor's office so far, then what? Is my credibility forever shot? 

If I make it sound bad, then .... no, that would be lame. What mom tells their child that the doctor is gonna totally hurt them? ACK!!! WHAT DO I SAY?!?! And more importantly, WHY ISN'T HER FATHER IN HERE TO ANSWER HER?!

Just go with the truth. That's what you would want.


Me: Well, they'll have you open your mouth and stick out your tongue, and then they'll take a Q-tip and get a sample from the back of your throat.

Meg much more nervous than before: They put a Q-tip ALL the way down my throat?!

Me: Not all the way down, just towards the back.

Meg:  It's gonna hurt, isn't it?

Me: It doesn't hurt. I used to get Strep as a kid all the time. It might make you gag a little, but it doesn't hurt.

Meg:  Couldn't I just spit for her instead, 'cause what if I throw up on her?

Me:  Well ... that's a very good question. How 'bout if I ask her when she comes in?

Meg:  Okay, but if she doesn't let me spit, can I get something for having to do the other thing?

Me:  Jamba Juice?

Meg:  Okay. And they'll probably let me have a sticker too, right?

Me:  For sure.

I did ask the physician's assistant if Meg could spit up a sample for her, instead of going through the whole swabbing process. Meg's eyes were so hopeful, but we were told that while they can test for the FLU from what one produces by blowing their nose (WOW), a spit sample would be too diluted by saliva to test for Strep.

Bummer.

She had Meg lay down, explaining that she might feel like coughing when the Q-tip touched her throat, but that's all. Mental note: The word 'coughing' sounds much better to a child than the word 'gagging'.

Meg held onto my hands tightly during the throat swabbing. She did cough a little, and then it was over, and the relief in her eyes was priceless.

The rapid culture came back negative, so hopefully that's that and the worst is over. Though if I'm being honest, there's that part of me that wishes she was already on an antibiotic.


Oh, and the sticker she picked out had a picture of Tweety Bird on it and said, "HUG ME!! I DID GREAT!!"

And I did, because she did. :)

Friday Night Cap

Tonight our family got to enjoy some yummy frozen yogurt while helping raise money for a friend's mission trip at the same time. Clearly a WIN-WIN.

As we were enjoying our dessert ...

Amanda:  Mom, you've got black stuff in your teeth.

Me:  Oh my gosh, is it gone now?

Amanda:  Yeah.

Me:  Okay, because that's like my BIGGEST FEAR.

Amanda: It's not ME DYING?

LONG AWKWARD SILENCE.

Me:  Yeah, I don't know how to answer that.





Pretty sure this conversation will be replayed on the couch of her future therapist.

The Good Old Days

So, this post comes from my long list of drafts. Every once in a while, I look through them to see if I'm in the mood to tweak any enough to publish. I was about to give up when I saw that, to date, I've posted 666 blog entries!! That number was all the motivation I needed to get to work.  So while this post is far from hilarious or riveting, it still gets me to #667!! Can I get an AMEN?!



The other day Meg was over by the fridge, and I was at the kitchen sink ...

Meg:  Where did you get this koala magnet?

Me:  Australia.

Meg:  When did YOU go to AUSTRALIA?

Me:  Back when we used to do stuff. You know, before you girls were born.

There are a LOT of things I did before my girls were born. Sleep, for one thing. I also thoroughly cleaned the house WEEKLY. And by "cleaned", I don't just mean "pick up". I actually mean: dust, vacuum, sanitize, and all those other glorious words!

Yes, I know, our current exhausting, chaotic and messy existence is only for a season. I just hope I don't forget to have fun in between my mental breakdowns.

It's funny ... every time I look at this koala with the sweet smirk on his face, it's almost like he was trying to tell me way back in 1999 that while Australia was AMAZING, the biggest adventure of our lives was still yet to come!

So to all of my fellow parents out there, may I just say: Good on ya, Mates. :)



  

My New Best Friend

I was chatting with a friend a while back, about my {sorry gentlemen} monthly mood swings (MMS). She told me she takes a B-100 daily to combat her own MMS. 

B-100? What in the world? Why have I never heard of this?! You better believe I ran out to Trader Joe's and bought me some!

Now while we women take our B-100, there's also a little something for you men who are married to women who suffer from MMS. Just ask my husband. A few years back he downloaded an app (P-Calendar on AppBox) that WARNS him when my MMS is about to hit. Can you EVEN BELIEVE such a thing EXISTS?! I don't know if I should be insulted or empowered by that. What I DO know, is that this app helps him know which nights he's better off working late. Like wait-till-she's-in-bed-ASLEEP late.

Okay, back to ME ... I took my first one last week, and boy was THAT a good thing!!

Not only was my body turning on itself, but my 5th grader brought home THE WORST math assignment EVER.

It was 50 problems (and isn't "problems" the PERFECT word to describe math questions?!) reviewing the last chapter studied. Or maybe it was reviewing the last TEN CHAPTERS ... it certainly felt that way to ME.

Megan had completed about 1/3 of the assignment, so the first thing I wanted to do was check those answers for accuracy before moving on.

Now it's easy to check your kid's math homework when you KNOW HOW TO DO IT. Not so much when you can't remember ever doing such problems when YOU were in school. 

I had to keep searching back several pages to find examples and teach myself how to do the stuff before I could figure out if she'd done it right. And even THEN, I wasn't sure if she'd done it right or not. HOW SAD IS THAT?!

The fact that I did not break a bazillion pencils or throw the math book out the window, is a clear testimony that the B-100 I took that morning WORKS. Oh sure, I was irritated, but I was composed the entire time. Can you say MIRACLE PILL?!

Once the torture session was over, Meg was free to do whatever she pleased, while I still had to make dinner!! And don't you know, this was the first night in MONTHS,  I had planned to actually GRILL CHICKEN and MAKE MASHED POTATOES. When do I EVER cook?!?!? NEVER!! I'm telling you, if it weren't for the B-100 ... I would have piled everyone in the car and driven to Taco Bell STAT.

Then after dinner, it was time to help Meg memorize ALL the parts of the HEART for a test the following day. SURE!! WHY NOT?! It's not like the kid needs to take a shower, or brush her teeth, or heaven forbid SLEEP tonight. Let's just do math and study the heart ALL NIGHT LONG.

When I finally collapsed into bed at 9:30, I couldn't believe all of my loved ones still had their heads attached to their bodies. Not one head had been bitten off by me. NOT ONE. Bless it.

By the next afternoon, the B-100 was definitely in my system. How do I know? Because when Meg told me that most of her class {or was that "class PARENTS?"} had bombed the math homework, and had the opportunity to CORRECT THE WRONG ANSWERS THAT NIGHT, I did NOT have ONE homicidal OR suicidal thought!! TRUE STORY.

AND I lost track of how many times Meg thanked me for helping her with her homework. Her mouth kept saying, "Thank you for helping me, Mom." But what she meant was, "Thank you for helping me, without losing your patience and yelling like a crazy lunatic, Mom."

So there you have it ... B-100. If I could be a paid spokesperson for the stuff, I would. Why? Because then I could PAY someone ELSE to help Meg with her 5th grade math from you know where!! ;)