Usually, I like to wait about a week to see where things land and play them where they lie. It’s only Tuesday and I’ve had a pretty full week already.
It’s a given that during a school year, it is decreed that the family will pass around a cold from member to member and sometimes more than once. So we have been passing around the nasty cold. Bud just got over his, I’m in the middle of mine and Mr. J just finished his, but his sinuses are still draining. (ew!) When I take him to school, everything appears to be fine. He has been in the most excellent of moods, so happy to be there (finally!!) and can’t wait to get going! We get there, I let him out of the car, put his backpack on and he takes my hand to walk him to where the class is gathering. Our first stop along the way is to give a high five to whoever is doing bus duty—that’s usually Mr. Jimmy. Then I get pulled along to class, where once he sees the class, he lets go of my hand and finds his spot in the line and sits down, waiting patiently, all smiles, jabbering up a storm. When the class goes to walk in, I’m able to give him our special “I love you” by touching our foreheads together. I send him off with an “I love you and be awesome!” He walks away from me saying “Bye-bye!” and I wave until we can’t see each other anymore.
That just so is not the same kid that started school last August! I’m so very proud!
But this week, we are being challenged by that nasty little cold. [**Warning, the following contains Booger Content. Those with weak constitutions are advised**]
Monday I had to come and get him after a couple of hours because his nose went out of control. I should have had an indicator before we left the house and he had wiped his nose on my sweatshirt sleeve, like in that bleach commercial where the little boy wipes his nose on the stranger’s shirtsleeve. The teacher called me, and described to me the mayhem his nose was causing. Mr. J was fine otherwise. He was so happy to be there, and didn’t want to leave, but his nose dictated otherwise by running so bad to where he had the boogers from ear to ear and into his hair. They were trying to clean him up and he’s running away laughing at them. So I was called to please get my “booger.”
I had a sad that I had to take him home, because he wanted to be at school so bad!! But I could not leave him there in that condition, so I dealt with it for the rest of the day. He’s mostly over his cold, but his sinuses were still draining, and not in a good way. Every little cough, every sneeze I was armed with the Boogie Wipes (Grape scented!) Needless to say, he was pretty tired of me man-handling his face by the end of the day. Poor booger!
And then for Tuesday!! Darnedest, weirdest, funkiest thing. I get a call from the nurse about Mr. J’s face swelling up just above his right eye and could I please come over to take a look at it. I didn’t need to necessarily take him home, but since I was the mother, they thought I could shed some light on it. I thought that odd. I asked all the usual questions and answered theirs. Is he allergic to something? Not that I’m aware of. Did he fall or smack his head on something? No. Was it a bug bite? Not that we could tell. There were no markings and no bruise. Just a lump above his eye. Okay! So I wrapped it up at Target since I was doing my errands I didn’t get to run the day before and high-tailed it over to the school, where I discussed it with the school nurse. It just so happened I had taken a picture of his smiley face just that same morning for comparison. But aside from this little spot of weirdness, Mr. J was doing just fine. He was happy, not fussing, not in pain and it didn’t seem to be bothering him any, so I used my good judgment and let Mr. J finish out the school day. Of course with this little disruption in his day he was not exactly happy that I was leaving him there again, but he soon recovered and was still his happy self when I picked him up again.
Of course I couldn’t just sit by and let the mystery lump go. So after another day of seeing if it would go away (and it didn’t) we were at the Doctor’s on Thursday. Always a traumatic experience there. I was more peeved over the fact that I had an appointment and didn’t get called back until 45 minutes after. The poor nurse only got to get a weight. No temp, no blood pressure, no nothing. I told her that he was autistic, so good luck getting anywhere near him for anything. “Well, I have to do something!” she snaps at me in frustration. Justin is already crying at this point. “Fine,” I tell her. “It’s your job, I get it, but you go right ahead. If he has an epic melt-down, you have to be the one to calm him down, not me!” Of course we get back into the room for the Doc to see us. He’s good—in that he understands about Mr. J and between us we do the best we can for him to see and get an idea of what we’re dealing with. Well, it’s not red, it’s not pussy, there’s no bruise, there’s no other mark. So he doesn’t know what it is—not without an ultrasound. Not what I wanted to hear. Ultrasound means applying something to Mr. J’s head. We’d have to sedate him or something. I’m not looking forward to it.
Croak now.
So we survive to Friday. On Friday, one of Mr. J’s classmates was celebrating a birthday, so the mom brought in pizza and cupcakes. I told the teachers, I told the mom. If Mr. J actually eats it, awesome. Otherwise, he has his own lunch. I pick him up from school, get him home, unload and see that his lunch was never touched and Mr. J was starving. [SIGH] Why does this happen to my poor Mr. J?
By the time we got to our night routine on Friday, poor little guy didn’t even know which way was up! It was a fight to get him out of the tub. It was a fight to get him into his Pj’s. It was a fight to get him to go say “Night Night” to his dad. It was a fight to get through the stories. It was his way or the highway, and if we didn’t do it that way, then bedtime would not be a pleasant experience for anyone.
[SIGH]
What. A. Week.
Where'd My Hair Go?! 