My mother said to me once, "A mother is only as happy as her least happy child." That seems so depressing, but at the same time, it's so totally true.
Baby Meg has had a miserable cold and cough all week and it's really killing me. I know, I know, I'm not the one hacking so much it makes me throw up my dinner, but it's been really hard for me to watch and not be able to do anything. I practically begged the pediatrician's office for something to give her, a cough suppressant, coedine, meth, whatever, and they finally relented to let me give her a little Benadryl to help her sleep. Fingers crossed, she does seem to be improving.
I've been giving her watered down formula, basically two scoops per six ounces of water instead of three, because the doctor thought it might have a better chance of staying down. That combined with her antibiotics, Vicks Vaporub all over her body, a soothing vapo bath and a humidifier with vapo steam crap in it + time = baby who seems to seems to finally be feeling a little better. She's also a little lighter. I guess the hacking cough diet is working for her.
P.S. On a totally unrelated note, when did the mohawk turn into the new mullet/rat tail for kids? I was at McDonald's last week where Andy proudly redeemed his free ice cream for doing his reading at the library and was stunned to see at least four mohawks. Classy.
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