The plan was to write about Valentine's day. Just let the record show, that I had a plan. And it fell through. 'Cause that's what life does: it jumps up and bites me in the ass.
My overly-rosey cheeked babe got a little too rosey last week, his cheeks started to flake on Friday. Got worse on Saturday, which is when Aaron got home. Started to ooze on Sunday and by Monday morning was just... too much. Too, too much.
Called in, got an appointment, took him to the doctor. They started a round of antibiotics.
Not good enough.
The oozing got worse. Thick. Yellow-ish. Beading like an ice-cold drink on a warm summer day.
Trust me, this is not for the faint of heart:
That's not lotion. That's ooze. Think, crusty, stick to everything ooze.
I wanted to call the doctor yesterday, but knew we should ideally have 48 hours of antibiotics in him.
He was even worse this morning. Of course, he spent his night screaming.
Called, got an appointment, took him back today. Swabbed his cheeks for testing (results hopefully Friday). New antibiotic, new steroid, new antihistamine. Aaron worked overtime, is headed to pick them up now. Constant nursing and car rides are the only thing that calm him down. He doesn't like acetaminophen nor ibuprofen and spits them up.
Then, this evening Darwin didn't have his glasses on 'cause he's been wearing them so tightly, he's cracked the skin above his nose and it won't heal.
At dinner, he thought it would be "funny" to put the fork up to his one good eye and pretend to be in jail. I calmly moved it and took it away and then gave A VERY LOUD DISCUSSION ON WHY WE DO NOT PUT ANYTHING CLOSE TO OUR EYES.
(Short story: Darwin lost vision in his left eye after an accident when he was 15 months old. Long story here.)
This caused Darwin to cry a lot, but for Griffin to completely lose it.
Between the two boys, and the baby not being held, it was a round robin of crying over here.