Last week Al was having a good ole’ time making fun of my hair. Not necessarily the style, or complete lack thereof, but rather the number of silvers creeping their way in. I informed her that it was her and the girls that were doing it to me, and that was that.
Fast forward to later that night, we jump out of bed to the sound of CB crooping in the other room. Any parents that are familiar with the croop come to know this sound all too well.
CB is gasping in her bed and really struggling to breathe. Fortunately, we’ve been through this before and assume the positions. I grab the breathing treatment and we get started. After a while we get CB settled back down and head to bed ourselves.
A couple hours later, the croop is back, and worse than ever. This time CB is freaking out because she can’t get a breath – which of course makes it harder to breathe. We load up another breathing treatment which at this point gets a little dangerous because you run the risk of pumping up her heart rate to 400 – good times.
I’m not one of those parents who runs to the ER – in fact we’ve only been twice and both times were breathing issues with CB. At this point, I’m giving CB another treatment, Al’s on the phone with the doctor, and I’ve already got the car warming up for a trip to the hospital. Thankfully, CB calms down enough to eventually fall asleep, and we give her another, different treatment while she’s sleeping. The doctor thinks we can wait until morning, unless of course, it’s get worse, at which point we should head in immediately – gee, thanks, couldn’t have figured that one out by ourselves.
Around 3:00 am we get CB settled in. She’s sleeping in our bed with me. Al has gone to check on MK who’s up fussing and winds up sleeping in CB’s bed. 5:30 alarm goes off for work – another Monday morning. And Al wonders where these silvers are coming from – I’m just shocked I’ve got anything left to go gray.