Sometimes it's better to put it in writing.

This morning, T announces that his throat hurts. Really? Crap.

He has allergies. I have no idea what, besides this particular part of Illinois, sets them off, so when he starts sounding really congested, I generally restart the allergy meds to see if taking them helps. If so, we chalk it up to allergies, if not, then we go from there. Unfortunately, at least twice a year T develops a horrible cough. I'm not sure if it's from the congestion and drainage or if it's virus related. There's no way to really tell.

I used to take him to the doctor when he'd develop it, especially once he was in preschool, but we were always told that there was nothing to be done but to let him cough and for situation to resolve itself. Not exactly reassuring words from your health care professional. When we moved here, I tried again hoping I'd get a different answer. I didn't.

So here we are, deep in the latest round of cough-gate. Does his throat hurt because of the coughing (which has been surprisingly helped with a humidifier and Vicks vapor liquid) or has he picked up strep from me? I ask S if her throat hurts. She says yes. I look at their throats. Both my kids have super sized tonsils, so it's extremely hard for me to tell when they are swollen because they always look swollen to me.  What to do? What to do?

Clinic. Strep tests. Yay.

However - better safe than sorry since we are going to Chicago tomorrow after the basketball game. Our reservations are made and paid for, so I really don't want to cancel. Plus it's Star Wars weekend at Legoland. None of us want to miss that. Ahem.

Off we go to the clinic. This time they get us in immediately. (woohoo!). The medical tech is all business. Weight, sit, swab, bp, temp. Rinse and repeat with S. So far so good. The rapid strep test (the other times we've taken it) was a five minute test. This one? Done in far less time. As in, T's was 'read' when S finished her rotation of medical intervention, and S's was 'read' right after T's. Seriously, did the swab even have enough time to get wet?

Of course they came out negative. I'm grabbing on to that ray of hope and assuming that our tech knew what she was doing. Yes, I have my doubts. The second swab for each kid was sent to the lab, which means that someone else will more carefully double check her work. I hope.

I had already decided that, should the need arise for medication of the penicillin variety, I was going to bite the bullet and ask for the kids to get one shot versus days of multiple doses. To prepare for that, I called R at work and told him of my evil, diabolical plan. I also asked if he'd come to help me hold down the kids. He said yes. Luckily, that didn't need to happen, so I called to give him the 'all clear' on the way back to the car.

We managed to cross the street together and safely, and then the kids just...scattered. In a parking lot. As if they thought no cars might ever come in there. Parking on base is difficult to find. It's also a very busy base. As I saw S and T running around cars, darting in and out, I just reacted and yelled at them to (and I quote): "Get over here RIGHT NOW. We do NOT play in parking lots! Do you NOT see all the CARS!?!???! What are you DOING!?! And thank you VERY MUCH for making me sound like I raised you in a barn!!!!"

Not that people were staring or anything. By the way, I'm still on the phone with R, who finds this amusing. As I would if the situation were reversed. Also? Not my finest parenting moment, which compounds itself a few minutes later when I accidentally drop T's Nintendo DSi. There were a few tiny black specks on it -- gravel transfer if you will--but it works just fine. T is majorly upset. Understandable. So I record a little message for him and it goes a little something like this.

I'm very sorry that I dropped your DSi. I promise to be more careful in the future. I love you T.

That didn't really help, so I tried this:

Mommy was wrong.
Mommy was wrong.
Mommy was wrong, Mommy was wrong, Mommy was wrong.
Mommy was wrong, Mommy was wrong, Mommy was wrong.
Mommy was wroooo-oooo-ooong.

That worked juuuuuuuuust fine.

Off we go to take T to school. We have to stop to get T some chapstick because his entire mouth is so horribly chapped. The only chapstick I could find in the shoppette was cherry, which meant that it would show up as pinkish when T put it on. ::Note to self - put some chapstick in the car!:: And it did. So T went off to school today a little pink around the edges. Worse things have happened. Like hearing my "Mommy was wrong" song repeated endlessly for about half an hour. As soon as I figure out how to work that dang DSi, I'm erasing it. He'll just have to accept it in writing.