twotothree

The other day Mike and I argued over whether Gloria needed to go to the doctor.  I thought that she was just being fussy because she's growing teeth like a maniac and has an explosive personality.  He thought there might be something wrong.

He won.  Luckily, because it turns out she has pneumonia.  She's back on the nebulizer and her medication list is so long that we need a treatment sheet clipped to her crib.  

I'M SO TIRED OF THE NEBULIZER.  It's important that I text-scream that so you understand just how tired I am of the god-damned nebulizer.  She will no longer wear the mask, no matter that our new mask has an adorable turtle face on it.  So I have to distract her with Blue's Clues while I hold the hose as close to her chin as I can get it without her noticing.  The entire family breathes in the  Albuterol and steroid with her.  I have to make sure to administer it to her when I'm not planning on driving or operating heavy machinery afterward, because I become super giggly and light-headed.  

It inspires spaz-oid baby to invade my laptop space.

It inspires me to force my child to wear fake mustaches.  To which she strongly protests.

My sister moved in this week.  Granted, it's still the honeymoon period, but it's incredible so far.  Mike and I hardly see each other with our opposite shifts, and it's so nice to have someone around.  Also, I've never had a tidy roommate.  My former roommates were college boys.  One always ate all of my food and the other had three feet of dirty socks coating all surfaces in his room.  She does dishes!