I thought I'd be quicker to post in the New Year... and then reality set in. And it's kind of funny to me at this point, so here's the story of the last few days:
On Wednesday, when I went to pick up Dash from preschool, his teacher came out with an Incident Report Form before I even saw him. She started explaining that he'd injured himself by ramming a car into the back of a bike during indoor recess. She basically needed for me to sign that she'd told me about his head injury, presumably so that I don't sue them if he has complications from a concussion in the night or something. In any event, I saw the goose egg on his head -- not pretty, but definitely not the worst he's had -- and proceeded to give away my right to sue sign the form. Later that day, I noticed that his hands had a bizarre rash-looking thing on them. Both hands. They looked as though he had the worst case of dry skin ever. They didn't look like they'd been burnt or injured, but this was bizarre. Did he stick his hands in some strong cleaning product in the school's kitchen when the teacher took him in there to ice his head? Or was the oven on? How would I know? This certainly wasn't in the incident report form. So I called a lawyer called his doctor. After treating his poor little hands with bacitracin, hydrocortizone, and Aquaphor for days, and after his wearing socks on his hands -- on his own volilition -- they do look much better.
But then, what do you know, I seemed to have a similar thing going on with my own hands. As luck would have it, the only dermatology group in the area that takes my insurance had a near-immediate appointment available. The doctor, who looked like Andy Rooney's twin, proclaimed it to be bad eczema and sent me on my way with a lot of Eucerin Plus. Case closed, I hope.
So the Guv and I made plans to frolic this Saturday, starting off with our usual hour of tennis at the gym and ending at King of Prussia mall so that I could start making plans to spend years' worth of Tiffany gift cards.
Sometimes I think we make these plans just to lament their being spoiled, as Petunia woke up with her umpteenth case of strep throat. Fortunately, the pediatrician trusts that I know when my kid has strep throat, since she has literally had it more than a dozen times in the last two years, so we avoided a Saturday morning hospital trip and just started the antibiotics directly.
In the end, the Guv and I still played tennis. Crappy tennis. I blamed it on my fingers, numbed from eczema, and on the fact that snowboarding did nothing for my arm strength. But the truth is, I feel like crap. I head to an ENT on Wednesday and am expecting to hear the same diagnosis I heard five years ago: I need to have my tonsils out. And this time, I think I'll take it seriously, because I'm sick of all of this sickness. Wellness has to start somewhere, and it might as well start with ridding myself of the sinusitis/tonsilitis that I've had since November 8. Seriously.
So... 2008 is definitely not getting off to the strong start I planned. Ever the optimist, though, I'm looking at it this way: Even feeling like crap, I learned to snowboard. Even with a pretty bad case of mommy martyr syndrome, I managed to meet my own needs by leaving the kids with our capable au pair today to squeeze in tennis. After coming home to check on things -- finding Petunia fast asleep on the couch and Dash miraculously leaving her alone -- the Guv and I even had a gluten-free lunch at P.F. Chang's. I am learning balance, and no one's suffering for it, including me -- so that's a good thing, even with raw hands and sore tonsils. And there's always 2009 to look forward to....
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