Are those leftovers on my chest?

Yet another way I am reminded that Eve is special:
Each night when I break out the Press 'n Seal to wrap up leftovers, Eve walks into the kitchen and lifts up her shirt. Exhibitionist? Only on laundry days. No, Eve sees that yellow rectangular box and thinks it's time to put some Emla on her port. Press 'n Seal is much gentler on her skin than the adhesives that come with the numbing cream, so we keep it around the house. Now that we don't need to use it very often for Eve, I'm thinking of having a little European Body Wrap party. Lose 6 to 30 inches in one hour, guaranteed!


Yesterday was a quick trip to Duke. Duke-time didn't even get a chance to catch up to me and slow us down. Eve's port needs to be flushed once a month while she keeps it in. I guess I'll have to delay that party while she's still got it. Press 'n Seal is expensive!

I'm fairly convinced the children are whole-heartedly trying to see if all three kids can meet their out-of-pocket maximums for the year. First place goes to Eve, who met hers pretty much on New Year's Day. Second is Dan, who decided he might want to start breathing through his nose. In a distant third place is Nat, who loves herself some urgent care. She's trying her hardest. Gotta love that spirit!

Natalie started complaining about her ear hurting over the weekend. I can't help it that kids cry wolf. Look, I don't know when you're really hurt if you keep crying anytime you get grazed by a throw pillow! But I might start paying attention if you complain about the same malady three days in a row. I figure most kids would drop the act after the first 48 hours.

My guess: swimmer's ear. The verdict after today's visit? Swimmer's ear. This totally makes me feel better after last October when I thought Eve was just constipated when in fact she had a baker's dozen of tumors in her kidneys.

I'm sure the receptionist was polishing off the Mother of the Year plaque while on the phone with me.
Me: I think my daughter has swimmer's ear. She's complaining about it hurting really bad. I need to get her in today.
Her: Ouch! I can get her in at 9:30.
Me: Hmm...well she's got camp in the morning. Do you have anything later?
Her: The only other appointment I have with the doctor you want isn't until 4:00.
Me: That sounds wonderful.

Judge me if you must, but if you've got three-and-a-half hours of alone time in the morning, swimmer's ear is not standing in your way of it.

Going to the doctor with all three kids is ridiculous. Going to the doctor with all MY three kids is ridiculous like a long nails on old men is ridiculous. (What's so damn itchy that they need those talons, anyway?) First we have Eve, who thinks all doctors wish to examine her. My sweet little nutjob gets upset when no one wants to prick her finger or take her blood pressure. And then there's Daniel, who is worried he's going back to the doctor for another shot. I bet the way he felt when he realized it was Natalie who was today's patient is akin to the way Toyota felt when the oil spill started. Out of the hot seat, at last!

So we get to put these drops in Nat's ears and she can't get her ears wet for four days. The drops are kind of cool because they are the first medicine we have ever received that lists "This medication has no known side effects" under the section Side Effects. No risk of needing to call poison control? Where's the fun in that? I haven't called that number since 3-year-old Nat and 2-year-old Dan both polished off that bottle of Zicam. (I've never had Zicam in the house again after the incident, but mostly because the poison control lady said they could each have eaten an entire bottle and it still wouldn't have done anything. Well, that probably means it's doing nothing for my cold. I don't trust pills that don't require a good stomach-pumping if you eat too many.)