It could be worse...

There is a side story associated with Joshua getting sick before the rotten ears, before I left for Bham that I wanted to share. After an incredibly long wait at the doctor’s office (we were there 1 ½ hrs), I was starving. Joshua said he wanted pizza for lunch so I decided to be adventurous and try a place *across the bridge* (Yes, it’s not that far away, but anything across the bridge just feels like a huge ordeal because you have to cross a body of water). After feeding Noah in the car we went in to this small place and I ordered the lunch special, pizza and salad, and some breadsticks. Of course by this point Joshua changed his mind and wanted chocolate ice-cream so I promised him some as soon as we left because the restaurant didn’t have ice-cream. Shortly after the salad and breadsticks arrived, J had what can best be described as volcanic diarrhea. He was sitting down and it literally shot up his back to his shoulder blades. It looked and smelled horrible and got on J, me, the seat… and J started crying. I gathered the boys and headed to the restroom only stopping to ask the waitress to box the pizza and bring a check. She said “I’m sorry. It’s a dine-in special.” Not wanting to explain how diarrhea went everywhere I said “My son just threw up. We have to go now. Can’t you please box it up?” She went to ask the manager and I went to the restroom. Unfortunately it was a tiny old fashioned bathroom with a pedestal sink and no change table. I stripped J down, changed his diaper, cleaned him as best I could, and wrapped him in Noah’s blanket, which of course upset Noah. I paid for lunch, grabbed the Styrofoam box holding the pizza, and staggered out the door balancing Noah in his carseat, Joshua, the diaper bag, the pizza, and a drink. I made it to the car, when my load shifted, I dropped the box, and the pizza fell on the ground. Oh well. I got in the car and headed toward Target to fill the prescriptions. I hated taking Joshua out in public, but I really wanted to start him on his medicine and I was afraid if we went home another disaster would strike so I loaded him in the double stroller wearing a diaper and a jacket. I bought him his prescriptions and chocolate ice cream. Then we headed home. I unloaded the boys, gave Joshua a bath, and then fixed him a bowl of ice-cream. To which he said “That not ice-cream. I want ice-cream.” There was no way to reason with him and I still don’t know what he thinks ice-cream is. It was an exhausting day.
 
So getting back to my title you are probably wondering ‘How could this be worse?’ After I got home, I called my dear friend Audrey to get some sympathy as she too was home with sick babies (Titus – 3 and Alice – 1). She patiently listened to my story and then said “You want to hear about my morning? Titus ate some breakfast then had to take some medicine which he threw up on the floor. I used a wash cloth to wipe his face and placed it over the vomit on the floor to I could clean it up after T was clean. After re-dressing T, I went looking for Alice. Guess where she was? In the kitchen, sucking on the wash cloth (she’s teething).” And that is called perspective. Yes, it could be worse.