Skip to main content

Bark: What My Son, Eric, Does Like a Seal

The past two nights have been eventful. Tuesday night brought Caroline into our bed with a bad dream. She didn't keep to my cardinal rule of crawling between John and I. Of course, she came to my side of the bed, shoving me into the middle, a position I detest. A king-size bed is absolutely not king-sized when one of the occupants is an 8-year-old octopus. I did fairly well stumbling through the day on Wednesday, however, even with the interrupted REM sleep I got.

Last night was a repeat, but it was Eric this time, barking like a seal. He practiced the same technique as Caroline, taking my side of the bed, my favorite pillow and the comfiest spot on the mattress, leaving me again, squished in the middle to be pummeled and prodded with no escape. Not only that, he continued to bark, wheeze and develop a croupy cough. Being the devoted mother that I am, always thinking of my childrens' best interest, I reverted to the emergency expert and instructed John to go find some medicine for Eric. Since he has more diverse experience with this sort of condition than I do, he couldn't argue. John stumbled out to the medic car at 2am and found the albuterol inhaler treatment used for asthma, croup and other breathing issues. He gave Eric a treatment which did calm the cough a bit, the the night was still full of tossing, turning, barking and waking.

The good thing is that I am a stay-at-home mom. The bad thing is that I had three appointments that I had made for during the daytime since I am a stay-at-home mom. So instead of me stopping by the dentist, hurrying off to the MOMS group and running to a Children's Council meeting, I'll be hauling Eric to the doctor to make sure nothing serious is going on.

A couple of bonuses with my altered schedule--I get to watch Dr. Phil at 9am (which never happens), I let Caroline sleep in and go to school late (which also never happens) and I'll be stuck at home pretty much all day (which really never happens) because I'm a stay-at-home mom.

Comments

Anonymous said…
I don't know whether to say good for you, you can stay home today to watch Dr. Phil and perhaps get a little nap or OH - MY - GOODNESS... I'm really sorry... I think I'll choose all of the above.

I hope Eric feels better soon.

- Debbie Stewart
Rochelle said…
Hopefully tonight will be a better nights sleep for you! Hopefully Eric feels better & the barking will be limited to the dog....

Popular posts from this blog

Little Chic's New Do

I have been bugging Little Chic to cut her waist-length hair for a long time. She did take about 4 inches off it about two months ago, and ever since, has been toying with the idea of something drastic and cool. Today was the day! I love it, but it's a little sad too--seeing how it makes her look all mature and teenager-ish.

Stickin' It Out

I got married today. Well, not exactly today. It was Friday, June 2. But the year was 1989 - 17 years ago. "Amazing", people say. "Good for you", they comment. "You must have picked the right one", the add. Amazing? Yes. Good for me? I'll admit it. But it has nothing to do with picking the right one, really. It's not because I found the perfect boy, and it's certainly not because he found the perfect girl. It might sound a little unromantic, but there never really is a 'right one' floating around out there waiting in the cosmos for the other 'right one' to crash and connect. There may be 'better ones'; there may be 'more easily compatible' or something or other. But the real story is you start becoming the right one the moment you vow that "you do". When I married, I had been 20 for a whole 33 days, we had just completed a 2-year long-distance realtionship and HE was five years older tha

"Huncle" Dave

This guy's my uncle. He's 8 years older than me. With my dad being the oldest of 10 kids, my grandma still had kids at home by the time my dad was getting started with life. This guy was my hero when I was growing up--sort of the big brother role, but with a little more novelty than a constant bully and boss hanging around. He certainly did his share of bossing and bullying, but I took it all in stride since I thought he was an incredibly big deal. Since he was the youngest of 10 kids, but older than all the grandkids, he took full advantage and made the best of his position in life. One aspect of him being more 'mature and world-wise' was that he required treatment of proper respect and authority. Thus, I, and my cousins, were expected to boost his ego by calling him by his rightful name "Huncle". This classy moniker had the unique combination of the relationship (uncle) and his self-proclamation of him being a teenage 'hunk'. Since growing up,