Wesley is under the control of some kind of dark force. It started after his "nap" this morning. His "nap" was approximately fifteen minutes of fitful car sleep on the way home from dropping Charlie at school. That was it for the day. The other attempts I made at leaving him in the crib to fuss himself down (as is our usual routine) only made him MADDER.
After the second attempt I made an appointment with Pediatrician Man because my precious schmoopy would never act this crazy--something must be wrong. Surely he has an ear infection. I was not going to make the same mistake I made last week, in which I was in the middle of dialing a Russian orphanage to see if they would take Charlie when it finally dawned on me that he might be sick, and not just premenstrual.
So I made an appointment, all proactive and stuff. And then I sat Wesley down and gave him some lunch. And YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHAT! He was FREAKING DELIGHTFUL for the next hour or so. Hmm, so maybe he was hungry. I dialed Pediatrician Man and said a little prayer that a different nurse answered the phone. Then I cancelled the appointment. And then gave myself a few pats on the back for not wasting Pediatrician Man's time.
An hour later he started rubbing his eyes and trying to lie down, so I took him to his crib and then got in the shower. Wesley was Not Pleased with this arrangement and screamed the entire time. It was a short shower. After I dried off and got him calmed down I put him on the bathroom floor so I could go to the bathroom. And that's when he started screaming and BANGING HIS HEAD ON THE FLOOR.
So, just because I missed Pediatrician Man so much and the way he "accidentally" grazes my boob with the back of his hand as he moves the stethoscope around Wesley's back, I decided to give them another call. I called them from the car while Wesley screamed from the back seat. It's more convincing when they experience the fussy instead of you just telling them they were acting fussy.
He had developed a nice little low (LOW) grade fever by the time we were called back, the kind of low-grade fever only I could detect, apparently, but his ears and lungs were mysteriously clear. Pediatrician Man told me gently that he was probably getting some teeth and then pulled Wesley's upper lip up to reveal two angry red and white squares on his gums.
Well, yes, I guess that would make him a little cranky. You see, teeth are outside my realm of experience since Charlie didn't have any until he was fifteen months old!. So in that sense I'm like every other freaked out first time parent who drags their kid to the doctor for every little whimper. Add to that our history of ear infections and wheezing and I'm quite trigger-happy with the doctor's visits. AND it's like 105 degrees outside and my $15 copay is a freaking bargain for a half-hour of movies, indoor entertainment, and stickers for two kids.
Tylenol and Orajel seem to have solved the problem. HUGE surprise.