When the kids were babies and in daycare, they caught every dang virus known to man. It seemed like we were home more than we were at work in the winter months. The eldest was susceptible to ear infections; we practically lived at the pediatricians office for years.
We've been so healthy lately that we've barely seen our pediatrician. I was lectured about that fact when I had to have them write a script for the eldest, who needed permission to take Advil at school.
I hadn't brought her in for a physical in two years.
Bad me.
This go around, I let the youngest fight a weird, spiky fever for three days before I clued in that it might be more than a run-of-the-mill cold. We so rarely get strep that while I know the symptoms, I didn't have the penny drop until I was on the phone with the nurse.
Pass that worst mother of the year trophy over this way, would ya?
So we're medicated now. (Yay, bubblegum flavoring. Walgreens, I hate that you make us pay for it, but it was worth the $2. This time.)
We're all bleached and washed. Everything should be normal, knock wood, from here. Yours truly will be more observant about that whole fever, sore throat thing from here on out, too.
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