how we do things

Miss Biscuit had caught Senor Onion's cold. Only it was much more exciting with her. Her face would not stop leaking. She was incredibly miserable. She isn't exactly skilled in the art of blowing her nose. It was just a pile of fun. I accepted things and did a lot of holding. Last night she kept waking up and she was doing a lot of crying. I asked her what hurt and she said her ear. Oh my. I tried tylenol. That didn't do a lot. So I held her. She was obviously agitated and in pain. I put on Bach. She thought Bach could go and die in a fire. So I put on Horowitz playing Mozart. That calmed her down. Horowitz, I thank you for helping calm a little girl around midnight with your enthusiastic playing. The pain stopped for awhile. I put her back to bed and then put myself to bed. I had about half an hour of rest when she was up in pain once again. I tried some hippie dippie ear drops. (listen when it is nearly two in the morning, you are ready to try anything to sooth the pain of a child.) She slept for about ten minutes. I found that if I had her sleeping next to me (with my arms supporting her a bit so she at an incline, providing her some relief from her cold) and put a heating pad on her bad ear, she was able to sleep. I was contorted but as a Mother I can put up with the wear and tear on my arms if it means peace. She slept. I dozed.

Later she got up with Mr. Jenner. She mostly moaned because she is sick. I slept a little and then I booked her an appointment with the Doctor. Bless them for getting us in quick. After dosing up Miss Biscuit with some tylenol, she was all right. In the elevator she was humming Twinkle Twinkle over and over. She won the heart of a rather handsome doctor. He asked me if she does a lot of singing. I told him all of the time. He asked if she made up songs. I said, "Does singing 'Potato Potato' set to Twinkle Twinkle count?" Oh he was smitten with Miss Biscuit. The deal was sealed when she told him, "I am 'tick. My ear hurt." He said to me, "is having kids great? I am getting married in a few months and I am kind of psyched about having babies." I told him. "It changes everything. It humbles you. In a good way. It turns your world upside down but it isn't dull." He said, "OMG are you trying to scare me?" I didn't want to tell him, "Listen man. To be a parent is to be broken down and then built up again. Theories will go out the window." But you don't want to truly frighten the masses. I laughed. Oh cute doctor... how little you know.

I show up at the doctor's office where there is purell all over that place like piles of blow at a party in the 70s. Alas there wasn't a dunking station for the kids. I was given some forms to fill out as it was time to make sure things are up to date. I was kind of a zombie at this point. I could not remember the date for the life of me. I figured, "eh, it must be sometime around the beginning of February... let's go with the sixth or seventh." Turned out I was right. We were seen. Miss Biscuit was pretty cheerful about things except for the waiting for the doctor in the exam room part. I sympathize. The choice of reading material wasn't hot. She tried to leave. I said we had to wait. She pointed her finger at me and said in her "SERIOUS BIZNESS" voice, "GO AWAY" I told her, "Sorry Plum-bun, I know waiting for the doctor sucks. There are millions of people who get what you are feeling." She threw some books on the ground. Then she laid down on the floor to really demonstrate her emotions. Maybe grown-ups should do that more. I held her. She was pretty accepting of this. When the doctor arrived, she tried to approach Miss Biscuit with the well taught tactic of letting the kids play with a few instruments before going at them to look in their ear. Miss Biscuit who rarely gets sick acted like a pro. She pulled back her hair, pointed to her ear and said, (and I SWEAR I am not making this up) "My ear hurts. Look at it." The doctor said, "well okay then. No point in putting this off." The ear was crazy infected. Even before she had a close look she could see that things were not happy in Miss Biscuit-land. The other ear was fine. So we got loaded up with a prescription for that classic and ever disgusting anti-biotics. Always a chalky pink. To me it tastes of the 80s. If you ever wanted to taste the disappointment of a decade that never quite lived up to what it could have been, taste some liquid Amoxicillin. Maybe listen to "Hungry Eyes" while you are at it and enjoy that queasy feeling. (forgive me if the 80s were good to you. Have some blow and purell instead)
And because the antibiotics weren't enough, we got some fancy ear drops. Unfortunately no rubber duck this time. (the clinic's reward if you get a vaccine) Still a good time was had by all. And the world deemed Miss Biscuit the cutest two year old to ever exist because of her ability to wear a hat well and not completely lose her shit. My own little Dowager Countess in training. Kid needs a cane and I will teach her to say, "What IS a weekend?"

So drugs. We have them. Took forever to get said drugs because the doctor took awhile to email the pharmacy. (I KNOW! We live in the future now.) Then someone forgot to figure out what our insurance would be charged. Blah blah. But I like my pharmacist. He is from the East Coast, looks like he should be an extra in GoodFellas and looks so world-weary. He told me like three times to do the full ten days of the antibiotics. I know why. Because most people don't. He probably goes home at night thinking, "yeah. no one listens. I KNOW what I am talking about. Bunch of people running around on Capitol Hill with some weird strain of the clap that can't be cured because none of them took their drugs for ten days. Fuck. Why bother. I should take up contract killing. At least I know things will be done right."
I digress. I like him and his terse ways. I don't want to disappoint him. So ten days it is.

I am reaching that point where everything is funny. I am going to go to bed. Really.