We're on Spring Break here- no, wait. The boys are on Spring Break. I don't get a Spring Break. 'Cause I'm a Mom. A Responsible Mom. A Responsible Mom who doesn't drink rum in the middle of the day even though she really wants to. Especially when the boys are on Spring Break.
So. The boys are on Spring Break from school. Aaron's still out of town (hello, day 13: you suck).
Because I'm a Responsible Mom, I'm making the boys clean the playroom over Spring Break. Which means, according to them, I'm a rotten, awful mother who will be sent to the grossiest of gross nursing homes as soon as they can falsify my records and make me sound like I'm incapable of making Responsible decisions.
Which means at the rate that Griffin and his lawyer-ness is going, two years?
And I will par-tay.
ANYWAY. The cleaning. Yes. See?
Please note: yes, Emerson has "tiny" legos in his hands, but they are impossible-to-choke-on-legos. And I'm only helping Griffin find me the rottenest of nursing homes, yes?
Emerson's test results came back last week: dog and egg
Which totally stumped me. "What do you mean only dog and egg?" "Isn't that enough?" "Have you not looked at my other boys' files? He's got to be allergic to more than that!"
I got the paper copy of his test results Monday and yes. Turns out he's way more allergic than "just" eggs and dog. But whatever(s) it is, it's not testable yet. His general-allergic-to-the-world IgE was through the roof. Which means, most likely, he's allergic to me. Like Darwin was. Why the children's hospital can't test that is beyond me, but there it is.
And I've tried weaning him onto the Elecare (that wonderful hypoallergenic formula) and he isn't going for it. On Monday, the allergist gave us vanilla-flavored Elecare. And I got a little excited on Facebook and Twitter and posted this with a WIN! and yeah. That WIN! lasted about two minutes.
I'm an overzealous person, internets.
My new plan is to ditch this place and go away this weekend when Aaron gets home, so Aaron could get him to take a damn bottle and I could sleep.
I really think not-getting-two-straight-hours-of-sleep-at-any-time is really screwing with my brain.
But? HA. Like that's really gonna happen. Please. I'm a Responsible Mom, remember?
Internet, meet The Incisors of Death. You realize I'm still nursing, right?