I've been to the pediatrician three times in the last twenty-four hours. Three visits for a total of four appointments, if you want to get into the specifics.
James started screaming on Saturday night in an Embassy Suites hotel where we were staying while visiting family. He started screaming around eleven o'clock, right when I was thinking of going to bed, and after several episodes of "Storm Stories" it became clear that he would not be going to sleep. Ever. At one o'clock in the morning Ryan strapped him into his car seat and drove the Big Gold Minivan around for AN HOUR (AT ONE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING) until he fell asleep. Then he drove back to the hotel, parked, and retired to the back seat with a sleeping bag and Charlie's honeybee Pillow Pet for the evening.
Sunday night after I tried to get him to sleep instead of comfort nursing (slash CHEWING), Ryan took over and the two of them ended up falling asleep on the floor. He then spent all day Monday howling in protest if I even got him near one of the many baby neglecting devices we have around the house (swings, play mats, exersaucers). And by five o'clock, when I returned home from the grocery store to more hysterical screaming, I had HAD IT. I impulsively called after-hours and made an appointment for him to be seen at 5:45. One hour and fifteen dollars later I had my "just a virus" diagnosis and still-screaming baby in hand. (Doctor's visit number one!)
The night did not go well. James had a well check (ironic!) this morning (Appointment Number Two!) where we added to his misery by giving him his six-month vaccinations. Since everyone was so wild in the exam room, I didn't remember to ask Pediatrician Man to take a look at the red marks on Wes's legs (FORESHADOWING!) and we left to get our donuts and take our screamy selves home.
By some miracle, Wes went down for a nap at a reasonable hour. I plugged Charlie into PBS and hooked James up to eat, then collapsed backward onto the couch, where I slipped into a light coma.
I woke up to the sound of coughing. It was Charlie and his face was COVERED in bright red blotches. I touched it and he said it didn't itch. I Googled "rash". Do not do this.
My mom was at my house, so I called and made an appointment. While on the phone with the nurse, I remembered the splotches on Wes's legs and ran upstairs to check on him. Not surprisingly, his splotches had also gotten larger and more pronounced.
So the big boys and I trooped back to Pediatrician Man (Doctor's visit number three! And four!!) where they were both diagnosed with Just! A! Virus!!
Symptoms of this virus include crabby, belligerent behavior, extreme silliness, and massive red blotches on the face (Charlie) and body (Wes).
Tonight after much trial and error, Ryan took James for a relaxing stroller ride while I laid in bed with my heating pad and Frontline. Holding a twenty-two pound baby for twelve hours does take a toll on your back, after all. An hour later Ryan came up the stairs carrying the entire stroller with James sleeping inside. He's woken up twice since then. It's going to be a long night, but Ryan? Is he not the best?