Still didn't get any nuggets

Hi-ho!  This is Kermit the Frog of Sesame Street News, reporting from Oklahoma where I will bring you the story of Rachel's crappy week thus far.

Actually, if Kermit was the evening anchorman, I'd probably start watching the news again.  This week has been....interesting.  My lovely little germballs still have their coughs, but nothing noteworthy to bring to the doctor, such as ebola, smallpox, or hysterical pregnancy.  I finally caved and took Livi in because she said her ear hurt.  Praise Jesus!  It's a symptom that she doesn't typically fake!  It's sad when you have a little prima donna and have to second guess whether this is an illness or an audition for a health video.  Ethan still has the hack, but is reaching new heights bouncing on the trampoline, so I'm waiting until tomorrow to drag his screaming self to the pediatrician.  I was curious so I asked:

"Ethan?  Why are you so afraid of going to the doctor?"

Ethan: "No!! No doctor!  They have weapons there!"

Me:  "Weapons?  What?"

Ethan:  "They'll smash and crash you, and then everything will explode and be ruined!"

Me:  "Uh....if you're talking about a shot, then don't worry.  You're not getting one.  You'll probably have a light shined up your nose.  You might have a booger, and that's the worst that will probably happen."

Livi, however, left the doctor's office sporting an Elsa sticker and a double ear-infection.  Dr. Stephens took pictures and cheerfully showed them to me.  WHY?  Why do doctors do that?  I bet they are the same kids who fart and say, "Gross!  Here, smell this!" 
So, I got her started on antibiotic and then I felt it.   You know what I'm talking about.  That slightly tingly, scratching feeling in the back of your throat.  Soon, the tingling part wore off and the scratchiness increased to Brillo pad levels.  This sucks on any level, but I now have two sick kids and am succumbing to their plague.  Noooooo!!!!

Sure enough, next morning I feel like a sloth with mono.  Cannot....move.  Ug.  By a miracle (thanks Jesus! thumbs up), I managed to get my son dressed, fed and on the bus.  I tossed some dry Cheerios in Livi's general direction, and then I set her up on the iPad watching cartoons.  I vaguely remember crawling into bed, but much after that is a blur.  I could have been an extra on Yellow Submarine--everything was surreal.  I knew I had fever and chills, because I kept causing minor earthquakes every time my temp would drop.  I woke up in time to feed and dress Livi, and crawled to the car and plopped her off at Pre-K.  I'm sure I looked like an extra from Walking Dead, but I honestly didn't care at this point.  I had to give my mom a McDonalds gift card to get the kids Happy Meals (thanks Andra!), while I dined on graham crackers and sips of water.  I'm sure they loved that--wondering why they hadn't invested in biohazard suits after so many grandkids.  I tried to stay in my room and down, until I heard an inhuman noise.  Livi, reaching back and gaining strength and wisdom from her Celtic ancestors, uttered the most shrill, banshee wail imaginable.  She had discovered what it was like to have her first shart.  God love antibiotics and their side effects.  She's on what I call her, "Happy Fun Pill," which is a probiotic.  That keep the diarrhea at bay, but alas, not sharts.  I now have to calm down a freaked out 4 year-old, who is treating her shart like it's hot lava.  No!  We must not take off pants!  Lava will touch me and BURN!  Trying to explain about how walking around with crap in your pants is not an option doesn't go over very well.  Neither does bribery or extortion.  Finally, just grit and determination win, while I wrangle the fecal fun pants off while my head is throbbing like someone has just been playing "McDougal's Bitchin' Bagpipes" for 14 straight hours.

Thankfully, my fever broke and I had better success at getting Ethan ready to face society.  I even managed to get Livi to write her valentines before heading off to the doctors to find out what lovely disease my darling children have decided to share with me.  Well, praise be it's not the flu!  It's just Satan's Own Cold from Hell.  Glory be, funk's on me.  I merrily take Livi to school, happily dreaming of getting to take a pill that will help me feel better.  Then a weird thought popped into my head after dropping her off.  It said, "Good thing you've dropped off Livi, because now you're going to get in a wreck."  It's was one of those flitting, bizarre thoughts that skips merrily into your brain and leaves just as you wonder what the heck it was all about.  About two minutes later, I found out.

I was on Bryant, headed for Target, and had just gotten near to Old Chicago and Chick-Fil-A.  Traffic was at a standstill, but the little 20-something, Monster High/Punky Brewster hybrid chick behind me didn't notice.  My guess is, the cellphone she probably had glued to her ear was far more entertaining.  All I know is, I'm daydreaming about delicious nuggets, and wouldn't those be nice?  I am, after all, sick.  I EARNED those nuggets! when BAM!  My car is hit and pushed forward just as traffic was starting to move.  I was thrown forward a little, but not too badly and I was wearing my seatbelt.  Then I thought, well......isn't this craptastic?  I pulled off the road to Old Chicago to have a gander.  Yup.  This is going to be fun.  Turns out both of us were driving cars that aren't technically ours.  They want an estimate before we contact their insurance, so fine.  That's the fun bit I get to do tomorrow.

After getting Livi and getting home, I had the glorious task of making Ethan do HIS valentines.  Ethan doesn't understand the whole, "everyone gets one" thing.  In his mind, you have to earn that valentine.  All past wrongs were swiftly resurrected, and an accounting must be made!  Finally, I told Ethan that I didn't care if this kid was Satan spawn, he was going to get a valentine!  Ethan literally gnashed his teeth at me.  For making him write valentines.  It's been a joy. 

So if anyone needs me during this lovey-dovey, for-some-reason-red-and-pink-don't-clash-on-this-day, holiday--I will be hiding under my covers and will bite anyone who comes near.  Unless they have chocolate.