Abby has once more fallen victim to our old friend pneumonia. Both girls have been less than springtime-fresh the past couple days, so Jen ended up staying home with Abby today, then took both kids to the doctor to see what was up. Lily got off easy with an ear infection, an ailment for which I have yet to see one shred of evidence; yet, according to Jen, Dr. Griffin only needed to make a passing glance into her noggin' to make a steadfast proclimation of this infection's existence. All that simply means is that we're quite fortunate, relatively, that she is such a trooper and refuses to show symptoms.
We're also counting ourselves lucky not to have a bad case of the big P with Abs; no hospitalization, her oxygen is good, her color is good, her breath is stinky, her 401k is non-existent, her bee-bo is pointy, and her taste in music is still sublime. Like her sister, she's been relatively peachy about the whole thing ("Oh, pneumonia again...whatev.") so we're hoping for a smooth, anti-biotic-chugging experience. Also!...they love the anti-biotic...another plus! I smelled it, and it did have a nutty, aromatic bouquet. I'm hoping to steal a nip after Jen goes to bed.
Last night, though not breaking any records on the misery scale, was rough. I got up with Lily right away, before either of us fell asleep. I was gone for forty minutes, gave her a bit of bottle, held her close, then went back to bed, where Jen asked me, "Did you just close the door?" She was under the impression that I'd gotten up to simply close their bedroom door (which maddeningly creeps open due to cat, dog, draft, poltergeist, what have you), a task which takes roughly 12 seconds. I said, "Umm, I've been gone for forty minutes." Then she just rolled over and went back to sleep.
These nights are reminiscent of the early days, and it makes me miss them in a way. I miss the next day's recapitulation of the night's happenings. because they were so muddled.
d: "Did I get up with Abby or did you?"
j: "Which time?"
d: "She got up twice?"
j: "No, three times."
d: "We made three bottles?"
j: "You made all of them, actually. We talked for a while about how crazy it was that she was eating so much. You even checked on the internet to see if that was normal."
d: "What day is this?"
j: "Not sure."
d: "Well, I know I fed Lily at 3, for sure."
j: "Lily slept through the night."
d: "Like hell she did. I held her for 40 minutes at 3:30"
j: "No, you woke up and held the dog for nearly an hour, after which you tried to give him a bottle. Then you fell back asleep for two hours."
d: "I don't remember sleeping 2 hours. And why are you logging my time?"
j: "I'm not. Wait, are you claiming you did more than me last night?"
d: "No. Why, are you admiting I did more? Because if so, I agree."
ad nauseum. It feels a little like the morning after being at a keg party that got busted by the fuzz; nobody really knows what the hell happened. Okay, that's not actually true, usually Jen has a pretty good grip on the events as they went. More often than not, I'm the confused one, I admit.
Anyway...the kids are sick. Which is rotten luck because it's Jen's spring break, and yet it's good luck because it's over her spring break. She'll be staying home with them tomorrow, and it will be a long day for her. I'd feel bad for her, but all my sympathy is reserved for the tiny, heartbreaking little coughs that we hear over the monitor every couple minutes. Poor little monkeys.
Day thirty one.ps. big praise to Jen, thanks for taking the bloggity-blog duty last night; I think it needs to be a more frequent event.
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