March 31st, 2009 by Rainey

I now know why some women stay home with their children instead of reentering the workforce after giving birth.  While there are convincing reasons such as spending “quality time” with your children or truly enjoying playing toddler games of “build the blocks and knock them down” over and over…I am pretty sure that a good portion of women who can afford to stay home do so because they know that the money spent on daycare is ridiculously compounded over and over again by the cost of all the damn doctor visits making it come out about even in the long run.

Our son…who was breastfed and came to work with me for the first nine months of his life, etc. etc. Attachment Parenting, etc….has been sick for the majority of three and a half months.  The latest addition to our ongoing list of baby infirmities is now pink eye.  Oh, pink eye!  Why?!  Why?!

It didn’t seem bad at first.  Just a little watery.  A little pink on his eyelid mainly.  He was his normal, happy self.  And then I took him to the doctor because he was running a bit of a fever too and they prescribed him drops.  After two drops that day he looked almost completely better by that evening.  So we bee-bopped him along in our normal routine for the next couple of days until Sunday threw up all over us as his eye swelled up, his nose became a veritable fount of snot, and he looked like he had been run over by a mac truck.

Not to mention the sleepless nights.  Oh…the sleepless nights…

So we carted him back to the doctor only to find out that he still had pink eye, but apparently was ALLERGIC TO THE DROPS THEY HAD PRESCRIBED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


So much so that he now has a slight sinus infection from all the congestion, one of his ears looked like it was “on the verge of infection” and instead of one drop three times a day he is on new meds that require two drops four times a day and an oral antibiotic once a day!  FANTABULOUS!

Because giving/administering medicine to a fifteen month old is so damn easy.  It is like a cake walk.  Only instead of cakes you end up stepping in big steaming piles of….well you catch my drift.

He howls like a cat with his tail caught in the door as we wrestle him (lovingly) to the floor and pry open (with gentleness) his eyelids and or mouth.  Try to place two drops somewhat accurately onto his eye or try to force a teaspoon of meds into his mouth and then hope beyond hope that he won’t projectile vomit it back onto us.

And then, after a long, exhausting day of wrestling and cajoling your son into taking medicines that may or may not be somehow POISONING him…you give him a warm bath, put him in cute pj’s, and proceed to wrestle and cajole him into sleeping for more than an hour or so at a time for the rest of the night.

Rinse and repeat.

Ain’t parenthood grand?

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