It's working! Isn't it?

It's working, internets!

Remember a few days ago, I told you about Thing 2's bedwetting problem?

He has been wearing the GoodNites® Underwear now since Saturday night and he hasn't woken up with wet pajamas once.  Every morning, except for one, he has woken up with a very saturated pull-up, but nothing else has gotten wet.  Meaning: I haven't had to change his sheets even once this week!!

Wednesday night, when Superman and I went out for our date night, Grandma and Grandpa Train came up to babysit for us.  They haven't been around much lately, due to some unfortunate family drama (oh, that is a-whole-nother blog of it's own, internet), so they did not know about the whole bed-wetting dilemma.  So when we told them not to forget to put Thing 2's pull ups on when getting him ready for bed, she was surprised.  (They haven't worn any potty training anything in over a year.)  We were in a rush to leave for the concert, so we didn't stay and discuss it very long.

This morning, I was talking to her on the phone and she mentioned that she had this conversation with him before bed.:

Grandma: You need to go potty before bed.
Thing 2: No I don't.  I have my pull-ups on, so I can just pee in them.

Uh-oh.

Grandma voiced her concern that by letting him use the pull-ups that maybe he will become dependent on them and not pee in the toilet on purpose.

But, I don't think so internet.  I truly think that at this point, it is truly a medical issue for my little one.  And that the pull-ups are helping us all get a good night's sleep.  (We are used to good sleep in our house.)

I think for right now, he sees the pull-ups as a novelty.  Something special that he has, that his brother doesn't.  Kind of like how when I was a kid I was weirdly proud of my cast for the first few days, but then got annoyed that I couldn't play or go swimming like my friends could.

I think, eventually, Thing 2 will become embarrassed of his pull ups, and not want to wear them. (I'm just cringing in anticipation of the day that Thing 1 tells him "you wear a diaper, and diapers are for babies")  And I will do my best to try and comfort him that they are nothing to be ashamed of.  And that he just wears them to help him stay dry at night.  And isn't it better than waking up all wet?

I am still confident that this is the right choice for us right now.  And really hope that he grows out of this phase sooner rather than later....

Jinya Beach

When Thing 1 and Thing 2 were just little bean sprouts in my belly, Superman and I had to decide where we were going to raise these little beings.  At the time, we were living in Buckeye Country, not anywhere near either of our families, and we knew that we didn't want to stay there.  But the question was, would we go back to the Hoosier state to be closer to his family, or back to the Old Dominion to be near mine?

I was raised a military brat, so I never lived near any of my grandparents, aunts, uncles, or cousins.  In fact, being that my dad was in the Navy (meaning we were always stationed in a coastal city), and my parents were both born and raised in the midwest, we were lucky when we got to see those relatives more than once a year.  We usually did a summer trip out, and occasionally got to go during the winter holidays.  Growing up, I desperately envied my friends who were close (geographically and emotionally) with their extended relatives, and that is always something I wanted for my kids.

So, in the end, we decided to move back to the Hoosier state for a few reasons:

• Superman's parents are retired.  Mine still work full time
• Superman has a huge extended family (his dad is one of 9 and his mom is one of 8), with lots of cousins.  And his two brothers, who both have kids around Thing 1 and Thing 2's age, also live here.  My sister has two kids, but they are in their late teens (and she lives 600 miles from my parents anyway) and my brother doesn't have any kids (or is even married yet).  And obviously I have no cousins or extended family there.
• Where he is from in the midwest is MUCH cheaper to live than where I'm from on the east coast.  We were able to buy a 4 bedroom house with a full basement for what we would have gotten a two bedroom condo for where I grew up.

But, life isn't black and white, and our choice is still sometimes hard to deal with.

I miss my friends and their kids terribly.  And they are all so close in age to my boys...they'd be perfect to grow up with.  Their un-cousins.  Superman only has one friend here that even has kids.

Their first year we made it home four times.  But since then, we are finding ourselves only able to visit about twice a year, because of time, work, money, etc.  My kids started referring to my parents as the "other grandma" and the "other grandpa".

This past Thanksgiving, after an 11 month absence, we were able to take a short visit back and see the other grandparents, my brother, my sister and her family, and most of my friends and their kids.  But the visit, like always, felt so rushed.  I felt like I had 100 people to visit in 72 hours.  I felt pulled in so many different directions, and felt like I was disappointing everyone and wasn't spending quality time with anyone.

After being guilted by one of my good friends, who bless her heart just wanted some time with me, I turned to Superman in tears and told him that I hated the emotional blackmail part of the trip so much that it makes me never want to come back for visits.  Since I know I'm invariable going to let someone (often multiple someones) down by not giving them the time they feel they deserve.  I left that trip relieved to be heading home and seriously dreading going back.

But Thing 1 and Thing 2 don't know about all of that.  They just knew that they loved being with their other grandma and grandpa, and taking their pack of dogs on long walks.  They loved playing with their aunt and uncles and cousins.  And loved playing with mommy's friends' kids.  They loved going to the beach.  Almost weekly since Thanksgiving, they have asked when we were going to "go far away again to Jinya Beach."  They have stopped calling my parents the other grandma and grandpa.  And I often overhear them playing with stuffed doggies, calling them my parents' dogs names.

On Sunday, I decided to surprise the boys by taking them to visit the dog shelter.  When they asked where we were going and I said it was a surprise, they asked "Are we going far away to Jinya Beach?"  When I said no, Thing 2 bursted into tears asking me why we couldn't go.  And it reminded me of those times as a child when I would literally cry from missing my midwest grandparents so much.  And it was almost as if I could feel all of those bitter and anxious feelings melting away from Thanksgiving, as I comforted my little boy and heard myself saying that maybe we can plan a trip to Jinya Beach for Spring Break.

My new favorite thing

I love pajamas.  I especially love kids in pajamas.  I especially especially love Thing 1 and Thing 2 in pajamas.  The only problem: pajamas are expensive.

I am a bargain hunter.  At the end of almost every season, my favorite shopping partner in crime (my mother-in-law) and I go and buy all the clothes the boys will need for the next year at the clearance prices.  If you go in my basement right now, you will find totes upon totes filled with 4T, 5T, and 6T boys clothes.  Shirts, shorts, sweaters, shoes, underwear, swimming trunks, you name it.  In fact, I probably already own the outfit they'll wear on their first day of kindergarten!

A shirt on sale for $10?  Ha!  Come talk to me when it's marked down 75%!  I speak red-line clearance fluently.

Now, I'm just a bargain hunter.  My mother-in-law, she is a professional compulsive shopper.  She cannot pass up a "good buy."  Combine our two personalities and you have a deadly combination leading to an overfull closet of marked down clothes.  (I won't point fingers of who won't stop buying long after they have more than plenty, but her name begins with "grand" and ends with "ma.")

But what we don't have overflowing...pajamas.  Why?  Because pajamas are expensive, and they never seem to go on clearance.  Sure, you might catch a buy 1 get 1 half off sale, but where I can routinely find name brand shirts for $2 and jeans for $3.50, I can never seem to find the same amazing deals on bedtime clothes.

This summer, we are the lowest on pajamas that we've ever been.  We literally have 3 pairs of 4T short sleeve/short combination pajamas.  I've been rotating those with a few pairs of 3T pairs I have left over from last summer.  For a while, it was working, but then...

Weird Science called.  Wyatt wants his shirt back.

The 1970s called.  The NBA wants their shorts back.

Obviously the boys needed new pajamas, but I didn't want to spend $15 a pair on outfits that never even leave the house!  And I didn't want to put Grandma-shop-aholic on the case, because I just wanted a few pair, not 20!  One look at their closet jam packed with tshirts, and you know she has no self-restraint.  Half of those shirts they've never even worn.

Wait...I have a plethora of shirts they've never worn....  EUREKA!

Instead of buying more pajamas, I headed over to Burlington and picked up a few packs of Hanes toddler boxers (did you know they made boxers for toddlers?!?!).  Two packs of 2 for $5.  Score!

Then, I match the cute plaid boxers with one of their millions of unworn tshirts and...PRESTO!  Instant pajamas!

But the best part...better than saving money....  Is they look so freaking adorable!!  Seriously, I thought seeing them march around in their little tighty whiteys was adorable...but I swear the boxer/tshirt combo is even cuter!  (That, or my boys get cuter everyday.  That is a possibility too!)

So there you go...if you have a little boy, and you want to help out your hurting wallet...skip the pajama aisle and head over to the underwear.  Pick up a few pairs of brightly colored boxers and pair them with matching tshirts that you probably already have plenty of.  I promise you won't miss the pajama cute factor!

Happy Birthday x2

Thing 1 and Thing 2's birthday...where do I start?  This birthday will definitely go down in infamy as the birthday that EVERYTHING WENT WRONG!

Fail #1 For weeks, the boys have been saying they wanted "guitar cake" (they had a guitar cake last year).  Thing 1 wanted a blue guitar cake and Thing 2 wanted a red guitar cake.  One week ago they sprung it on me that they wanted a train cake instead.  Hmm, so off to google images search for me.  I found a lot of inspiration and decided I could make a decent homemade train cake using bread pans and lots of colored icing.

It started out okay.  But as I was preparing to put the final touches on the train, I noticed that the train tracks I had drawn with marker on the cake board was bleeding.  UGH!  Hours of baking (all cakes and icing from scratch) and now the cakes might be ruined.  It was past midnight, and my choice was to start over or try and salvage the cake, hoping that the bleeding had only affected the cardboard, and not the cake itself.  I checked and the marker was "non-toxic", so I decided to try and salvage the cake.  Thing 1 and Thing 2 mostly just eat the icing off the top anyway, maybe other kids would do the same.

I re-located the cakes to another board, covered in foil, and finished piping it and covering it with candy cargo and oreo wheels.  It came out okay, not as cute as I'd imagined, but not bad.  But I was still worried that it would taste like magic marker, so to me, it was deemed ruined.

Yesterday we took it to school and had the boys' party.  Their classmates loved the cake.  And luckily, most only ate the candy and icing (good!).  But take it from me...do not use magic marker on your cake boards!!

Fail #2 The boys' birthday coincided with their last tee-ball game.  So I told the coach I would bring the snack for the game.  I made some super cute baseball cupcakes.  And unlike the train cake fiasco, these turned out exactly as I'd hoped.  The problem: it stormed last night and the fields were flooded.  So, their game was cancelled.  Am I bad, but I'm NOT making cupcakes again next week.  I'll go buy some popsicles instead!

Fail #3 We decided not to do a party this year.  I am not one of these parents that thinks my kids need a party every year.  We had a big one for their first birthday (actually, we had three!), but did a small family celebration for their second.  We planned a small one for their third birthday, but somehow it turned into a fairly big one because almost everyone we invited came, just one kid couldn't make it.

I honestly wasn't planning on doing any sort of party this year, but I felt bad that this was the first year the boys really got that it was their birthday, so we decided to do a "Birthday Playgroup."  Our plan was to invite their three best friends (two from school and one from church) to go bowling at the bowling alley right near our house.  About two weeks ago, I sent out a "Mark your calendar" email to the parents.  And then sent a FB message to the bowling alley asking if I needed to actually reserve a lane for only five kids.  No response.  About a week ago, I called them.  No answer.  Last night, I called maybe six times, each time letting the phone ring and ring and ring.  I even told Superman "maybe we should just go over there and make the reservation in person."  But in the end we decided that we highly doubted they'd be so crowded at opening on a Saturday that we couldn't just show up and snag a lane.  I was right.  And wrong.

We pulled into the parking lot at 12 pm sharp this afternoon.  There weren't a lot of cars, but no worry, the bowling alley opened at noon, so how many people would be there right at opening.  But it turns out, they weren't open at all.  In fact, they hadn't been open for more than a week.  UGH!?!?  At this point, all five boys were running around the parking lot, hugging and talking and laughing and excited to play.  Now we had to load them in the car and head over to the other bowling alley.

Fail #4  I was embarrassed for my lack of foresight, but everything was going to be fine because the other bowling alley wasn't a far drive.  And in about five minutes we were in their parking lot, which also seemed very empty.  A woman stuck her head out and let us know that they would be open at 2 pm, since their summer hours were different than their regular hours.  UGH!!!  Might want to change your website info people!!!

Man I was so embarrassed now.  I couldn't even think straight.  But with the help of the other parents, we decided to all head over to a nearby playground where we had an impromptu picnic pizza party (thanks to Little Ceasar's $5 hot and nows) while we passed the time waiting for bowling alley #2 to open.

Honestly, the kids had a blast running around chasing each other.  And they loved that they got to eat the cookies and candy in their treat bags while waiting for the pizza (because who doesn't love to eat dessert first?!).

2 o'clock came and we headed back to the bowling alley.  It was chaotic, but so much fun.  And I was really really glad that we only invited 3 kids though, because I don't know how we could have coped with more.  Teaching four 4 year olds and one 6 year old to take turns bowling was definitely a challenge. :)

Interestingly, while we were there Superman ran into a bunch of people who knew from his pre-married/kids life.  Among those, two birthday parties.  And guess what?  They had both had the same exact morning as us.  Well, not same exact.  Because their parties were a bit bigger than ours, and they had actually made reservations at the other bowling alley only to show up and find it closed.  So, I felt a little better knowing that even if I had made that reservation, the morning would still have been so disorganized. Turns out, the other bowling alley was closed down by the IRS.  I guess you can only go so long without paying your taxes...  And they had never notified any of the people with reservations of the closure.

After settling in to our game, the boys were all having a blast.  But then one by one they had to go home.  Bless their parents for letting them stay sooo long in the first place, after going from location to location.  We were so thankful they were so understanding and gladly waved goodbye and thanked them for coming.

The day did end on a perfect note, though.  Thing 1 and Thing 2, despite my best efforts, love McDonald's chicken nuggets.  So, we packed in the van, along with Grandma and Papaw Train and headed to Mickey D's and had a fast food feast with a side of indoor playground.  We came home, gave the boys a bath, and let them fall asleep in their train pajamas watching one of their new train DVDs.

In the end, the boys had a great birthday.  They didn't notice the train cake may or may not have tasted like magic marker.  They didn't notice that they missed their tee-ball game (because we spent that time skyping with my parents and opening their presents).  They didn't understand the bowling alley confusion fiasco; all they knew is that they got to play at the park and eat pizza and open presents and eat cupcakes and even ride in our van with two of their favorite buddies.  And of course, they loved their birthday dinner at McDonalds.  They even were able to get Papaw Train to buy them McCones before we left.

This is probably the first birthday they will remember (it's crazy to think they are going to be able to start remembering stuff that is happening long term now), but they will only remember the good stuff.  It's only us Type A hyper-organized mommies that will remember this as the birthday that taught her to always, always have a plan B! :)

I like to plan ahead...

Superman actually enjoys last minute shopping.  He gets a thrill out of going to the store and having to find "the perfect gift" in five minutes flat.  Unfortunately, more often than not it is the leftover gift...the gifts that no one else wanted.  Which is why I like to plan ahead.  If my gift is a fail, it is rarely for lack of trying.

Which is why Mother's Day has just passed, and I'm already thinking of the next holiday...Father's Day. On Mother's Day, I got my mom a "4 Reasons I Love Being a Grandma" shirt from PersonalizationMall.com, and for just $3 extra I was able to add a personalized card which I thought was a really cute and unique touch.

So, for Father's Day, I decided to head on over to another of my favorite websites, Shutterfly.com to order up a few personalized cards for Superman and the grandpas.  Right now, you get 20% off of all cards, plus free shipping on orders over $30.

I was able to fill up the cart with a bunch of things I needed printed and a few other upcoming gift necessities to get my free shipping.  (I have an unnatural need to never pay for shipping!)

The trick is you have to order these far enough ahead of time that you can wait the 7-10 days delivery time for the free shipping items.

Check out the card I made for Grandpa Train.  It maybe the only picture of him and Grandma Train with all of their grandkids.  I think he is going to LOVE it!

And, if you make a project and share it in your blog (like I have here), you'll get a code for $10 off your next purchase.

Take me out to the ball game

Our town has a mini-baseball season for the three and four year olds.  It consists of six Saturdays in Spring, and the first two are just practices.  The last four are "games".  Though I'm sure they won't even keep score.

Part of me felt like a stage mom signing my three year olds up for tee-ball.  I mean, what can a three year old really get out of it?  Will their chances of making the varsity baseball team in high school really hinge on whether they started little league at three or five?  I highly doubt it.

But, since Superman and I both grew up playing ball, we have been buying them ball caps, reading them books about baseball, and teaching them "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" since they were little, little babies.  So while I don't expect them to have perfect aim after six short Saturdays of tee-ball, I am hoping they will get excited about baseball and it will help develop their interest in playing it as they get older.

Their first Saturday consisted of meeting their coach and teammates, doing some stretches and jumping jacks, running the bases, hitting off a tee, and catching some ground balls.  Thing 1 had a blast!  Unfortunately, Thing 2 was benched due to a case of Toxic Synovitis.

Tomorrow, they'll be getting their jerseys and taking team pictures.  And Thing 2 should be up to running around like normal.

But as fun as watching them run around and doing jumping jacks was (and it was fun!), I am sad that my parents don't get to see them play.  No, they aren't dead (thankfully!), but they live about 700 miles away, so a quick trip in for a tee-ball game is not really on the agenda.  I grew up on the ball field with my dad in the dugout and my mom in the stands.  Sometimes them living so far away just sucks more than others, and this is one of those times.  I just really wish they were able to be on the sidelines to see my boys learn to love the sport that they taught me to love.

I am happy though that my good friend, let's call her "The Godmother", will be coming into town to see them play their first game.  In fact, I can't believe it, but she is actually skipping her cousin's wedding for the occasion, because she says seeing a game is so important to her.  Which is a nice reminder once again that family comes to you in many forms.  Sometimes family is made through blood and birth, sometimes it is made through wedding vows, and sometimes family can be made by having really awesome friends who really love your kids.

The Easter Bunny Threw Up

I'm proud to say that we actually only bought three of the things on the table.  The Bambi video and the baseball gloves.  That's the best thing about having really young kids, they don't remember that they got all of this other Easter crap for the last three Easters.

We've known for months now that we wanted to get the boys baseball mitts for their Easter baskets, especially since their first tee-ball practice is next weekend.  The only problem...we still don't know if they are right-handed or left-handed.  We've been trying for weeks to pinpoint, even enlisting their teachers to help us out, but we still aren't 100% sure.  Thing 1 seems to prefer his left hand for writing, throwing, and eating, at least most of the time.  But not all of the time.  Thing 2 seems to prefer his left hand for writing and eating, but throws with his right hand.  But again, most of the time that is true, but not all of the time.

Superman is really rooting for them to be left-handed.  First of all because his dad, Papaw Train, is left-handed and he (Superman) has a serious case of daddy-worship.  Second, because he has big dreams of the boys being Major league pitchers one day, which they'd have a better chance of if they were left-handed.

I personally would like Thing 1 to be left-handed and Thing 2 to be right-handed.  That'd make a perfect pitcher/catcher team!

For now, we bought three mitts.  Two left-handed and one right.  We are pretty sure Thing 1 is left-handed, but we got Thing 2 one of each, and we'll see which one he prefers and return the other.

A Mother's Intuition

I really need to learn to trust my mother's intuition.

Monday afternoon, right before lunch time, I got a call from the boys' school that Thing 2 was running a fever.  So, I left work to go pick him up and spend the rest of the day at home with him.  He was definitely feverish (hovering around 102 all night) and moaning and groaning and whimpering the most pitiful "nope" to just about every question I asked.  Around 11 pm, he started vomiting, and continued vomiting over the next few hours. Then, around 3 am, he finally fell into a deep, yet still fitful sleep.

Some things are going on at work right now that make me really anxious about taking too many days off and Superman doesn't have any sick days right now (long story), so I arranged for Grandma Train to come over on Tuesday and stay with him.  These boys tend to bounce back really quickly from sicknesses, so I didn't have too much guilt about abandoning him while he was ill.  I figured he'd be running around like normal in no time.  Besides, I was planning on going home to check on him around lunch time.

Well, Superman beat me to it.  He stopped by on his lunch break to help take Thing 2's temperature and help administer the next dose of pain killer (Grandma Train has a bad back, so while she can read to, play with, and comfort the boys, she can't lift our 36-lb sack of sick potatoes or have the strength to fight him to take his medicine or temperature.).  Around  11:30 or so, I get a phone call, Thing 2's temperature is 104.1.  At this point, I still wasn't positive I was taking him to the doctor's but I knew that a kid this sick needed his mom and Grandma Train needed some relief.

When I got home, it was 45 minutes after a cool bath and a dose of Ibuprofen, and he was still burning up.  I took his temp again (103.5) and called the doctor's office.  My mother's intuition said that my kid was really sick.  I'd never seen him so whiny and moany and miserable.  But, the nurse on the other end said based on his symptoms, and as long as the pain reliever was bringing the fever down some (even if just 1 degree), wait for 3 days and if his fever still didn't subside, to bring him in.

Later that afternoon, you could add diarrhea to the symptoms.

All that night he was feverish (pain killers only brought it down 1/.5 degree or so), lethargic, and all around not feeling good.  Superman slept in the guest room.  While I barely slept with Thing 2 in our bed.

The next day was more of the same.  More high temps.  More moody, whiny, needy boy who didn't know what he wanted, uncomfortable, and couldn't be satisfied.  Papaw Train did come buy with treats.  And he seemed to perk up enough to go downstairs and play trains.  But he fell asleep while playing, and Papaw left.  When he woke up, his temp was back up to 104 and he was as miserable as ever.

Later that afternoon, he started complaining about his belly hurting, rubbing down in his lower abdomen.  All along he has been barely eating, so I figured it must be an empty tummy.  Superman came home and got worried it was appendicitis.  We were on the verge of calling the doctor again when out of nowhere Thing 2 started acting better.  So much better in fact, he was walking around saying his "sick is broken now" and ready to go back to school.  He even ate a fair amount of dinner.  I was thrilled.  It definitely seemed he was on the mend.  And I was telling myself that that nurse had been right...that I just had to wait out the symptoms and they'd disappear on their own.

Bed time came and Thing 2 was whiny and threw a fit that we weren't letting him sleep in our bed yet again.  I explained that sick boys get to sleep in mommy and daddy's bed and well boys sleep in their own bed.

After missing half a day on Monday, half a day on Tuesday, and a full day on Wednesday, I was preparing for a good night sleep to go back to work on Thursday.

Wrong.

At about 1:30 am, our bed was invaded yet again by my whiny feverish hot box.  103.8 and as moany and miserable as ever. I guess his sick wasn't broken after all.

When asking Thing 2 what was hurting, he kept rubbing his lower abdomen and saying his tummy.  Superman gave me the look.  He was really worried about appendicitis.  He had just had his taken out 3 years ago when the boys were babies, and hadn't experienced the typical textbook symptoms.  So he was very convinced it was possible Thing 2's symptoms didn't have to follow the book either.  I wasn't as convinced (or at all), but I was up losing sleep over how to make my baby feel better and why I'd waited so long to take him to the doctor.  Now it was 3:30 am and I was counting down the minutes until 8 am when I could take him to see his doctor.

I guess I finally fell asleep, because around 7 am I woke up.  The first thing I did was feel Thing 2's forehead.  No fever.  But this time, when he woke up, he was not acting fine.  He might not have had a fever, but he was still whiny and moany with sick eyes.  He was still the sick version of himself.  I went ahead and called and make the appointment.  Then we got his brother dressed and dropped him off at school.

Thing 2 at first was upset he couldn't stay at school (mostly because he wanted to do the morning activity), but then perked up when we went to the donut shop.  Here is where I start doubting myself again...in the car to and while at the donut shop he was acting fine again.  Chatty.  Sweet.  Inquisitive.  And he seemed to have an appetite.  He ate 3/4 of his "white donut" (powdered sugar) and 1/4 of his "brown milk".

I'm thinking: Great, I'm taking him in to the doctor's with no fever and acting fine.  A waste of money and time.

But we press on.  At the doctor's office, his temperature is 98.7.  Perfectly normal.  But, he is acting weird again.  Lots of "nope" answers.  When I tell the doctor about the abdomen, she asked him if his belly hurts and he says a pitiful "yea".  Then she asks if his hair hurts and he says a pitiful "yea".  Then she points out that it's hard to diagnose children this age because of their lack of ability to effectively communicate.

One look at his throat with her little doctor light though, and the need for communication went out the window.  "Looks pretty red back there.  Let's get a strep test done."

My big boy opened wide and said "ahh" and about 5 minutes later, it was official...he has his first case of strep throat.  Fifteen minutes later, he had his first dose of amoxicillin.

Five hours later, he is feeling much better.  But I feel awful.  How could I have made him suffer through 3 days of aches and fevers when he had a legitimate illness?  When I get strep, I am at the doctor's within hours and getting my antibiotics.  No way I would suffer through without my drugs.  But I didn't want to be that mom bringing her kid to the doctor for some virus that would pass and there was nothing they could give them anyway.  Yet, on Tuesday and Wednesday both I had the nagging doubt of "should I go ahead and just take him in?" and didn't.

I still don't want to be that parent who takes her kid into the doctor for every cough and sneeze, but next time I'll know that if I know my kid is feeling miserable and really not himself, that I'll follow my mother's intuition on when to take him to see the doctor.