February 14, 2005
antibiotics for everyone!
For our first married Valentine’s day, ten years ago, Wade bought me the one piece of our stemware that we had not recieved as a wedding gift (how do you register for an even number and get an odd number?). He filled the glass with Hershy Kisses and propped a card against the stem, and left it on our incredibly ugly glass-topped dining table for me to find. It was an unbelievably romantic gesture from a man not really known for his sense of romance (which, by the way, is one of the reasons I fell in love with him–I’ll take goofy over romantic any old day).
This year, for our tenth married Valentine’s day, Wade is buying me cookware. Calphalon, to be specific. Eight pieces (although I think it should really be FIVE pieces–why do they count the lids as individual pieces? You might use the saucepan without the lid, but vice versa? I don’t think so–). In a wierd way, this is a sort of continuation of the first Valentine gift: the cookware is also something that we registered for and didn’t get (although we did get two–yes, TWO–silver serving dishes shaped like clamshells. I’m not kidding–I still have one of them, in a closet somewhere. Not surprisingly, I don’t use it much). The cookware is really a sort of self-defense gift; Wade is convinced that the skillet I am using to make grilled cheeses is slowly poisoning our children–the non-stick coating tends to stick to the sandwhiches, which means the kids are eating it on a fairly regular basis. My mother agrees with him. So cookware it is!
The really funny thing is that I don’t cook. It’s not so much that I don’t cook; it’s more that I cook only under duress, and only things that I’m sure I can do well (which is a very very short list). Unlike every other woman in Wade’s family, I don’t enjoy the whole cooking thing. There is nothing relaxing to me about chopping and peeling and braising and roasting (or whatever the hell it is those women are doing in the kitchen). I’m a little worried that Wade is hoping that new fabulous pots and pans will turn me into Julia Child (or at least his mother, who is a TERRIFIC cook). Oh well–at least the grilled cheese won’t be Teflon-coated any more!
But what, you are wondering, does any of this have to do with antibiotics? Nothing–except that Charlie woke up this morning (and, according to him, several times during the night) with an ear infection (he hasn’t yet realized that the big-boy bed has no sides, and that he can get out and roam at will–apparently, he just laid there and thought about how much his ear was hurting all night long, while I was snoozing away, dreaming about my new Calphalon). I heard him crying at 5:30, when I was lying in bed trying to decide if I should get up and do my “AM Yoga” tape (the one I never get to do because no matter how early I get up, someone else in this house is up, too, and needs me to do four hundred things for him). Ironically, Wade, who was sleeping in the guest room (because he’s been sick and not sleeping well, not because of the Calphalon), which is RIGHT ACROSS THE HALL from Charlie’s room, did NOT hear C crying, nor did he hear me crash into the Little People Dollhouse when I went in to check on C. Sigh.
Anyway, Charlie was whimpering and pulling his ear, and probably had a fever, but I wasn’t going to check since he was already so upset. I gave him Tylenol and put him in bed with me, which was the end of any fantasy I had about doing yoga today. And then I realized that if today is Monday, Charlie was going to miss school AGAIN, and I wasn’t going to get to do ANYTHING today, since I would have a sick child with me all day, and then I really started to get depressed about the whole cookware thing (which, really, isn’t related at all, it’s just the idea of having to be home all day and then cook dinner on top of it all).
But Wade got up early, for no good reason, and took Charlie while I showered, and of course by the time I was dressed, Charlie was announcing that Daddy had made his ear all better (ha ha ha don’t you love it when they do that?) and that he could go to school. And then I made him cry because I said no, we were going to the doctor. And then Henry got up, and our day really started.
So I spent my Monday morning–one of my two precious kid-free mornings–at the pediatrician’s office with Charlie who kept insisting that I kiss the infected ear and then crying because it still hurt. But we got him some drugs, which means that Henry is the only one at Chez Williams not currently on antibiotics, so I’m gearing up for another visit to the doctor, since I’m sure he’ll be next. Happy Valentine’s Day!
Posted by Susan @ 1:34 pm • Uncategorized
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