Let’s start with the Yay! part, shall we? Yes, we shall. Otherwise? I may not get to it.
So, in case you hadn’t heard, there is a new book available for pre-sale (and no, it is not written by Stephanie Meyer) called Meant to Be: Stories of International Adoption. All proceeds from the sale of this book go directly to benefit OrphanCare International. As I said, it was not written by Stephanie Meyer, so, you know, no inexplicably compelling sparkly vampire romance. But? Many stories of families being built through international adoption. One of them may be . . . ahem . . . my family’s story . . . ahem.
But most importantly? The proceeds will go to benefit orphans around the world.
Now for a little confession: I’m having a tiny anxiety attack about the whole thing. It’s been months since I wrote my contribution, and I find myself wondering, “What exactly did I write? What if it was crap? What if it was too long? What if it was too short? What happened to it during the editing process, over which I had no control? What? What? What?!?!?????”
See, you’ll have to order your own copy to find out.
And I hope those who developed this project and coordinated the whole thing don’t take that editing comment personally. It’s just that I’ve had a bad experience or two with editors in the past. Nothing like having your byline on something that got screwed up by an editor, you know? Quite embarrassing, actually, when you wrote a lead about students crisscrossing campus and it goes through the hands of an inept copy editor and to the press as crisiscrossing.
But that’s okay. This is for a good cause, so even if through the editing process our family’s adoption story comes out as being all about a piece of toast and the Virgin Mary, it’s good.
But you’ll have to order your copy to find out!
Order now and they’ll ship in June.
Go! What are you waiting for???
Okay, that’s pretty much it for the Yay! part.
Now for the Blargh! part.
The new carpet that we’ve had for about two months already looks like a bad 80s perm. People, we didn’t buy the cheap, bottom-end carpet. We have five kids and three dogs and two cats and, you know, the two of us. It does not behoove us to buy cheap carpet that will wear quickly. We bought good carpet that is supposed to last forever. The lovely folks at MOWHAK are saying they will replace it for us right now, but we will have to pay the installation. Again.
However, if we wait until it’s been in for six months and the problem hasn’t gotten any better, they will do the whole shebang for free.
Ummm . . . my carpet doesn’t have the swine flu. It’s coming untwisted. It doesn’t have a chance of getting better. I suppose if some very charitable, very bored elves decided to sneak into my house a few nights in a row and re-twist and seal each and every strand, then maybe it would get better. But otherwise? Nah.
Question: how many times can I complain about our pediatricians’ office before I just find a new one?
Answer: at least one more.
I believe I mentioned that the lovely nurse practitioner put Quinn on antibiotics rather than Claritin this time. That would be a Yay! except that some doofus (possibly me) had a little trouble with the childproof cap and failed to control the vertical alignment of the bottle in relation to the earth when the cap finally and unexpectedly popped off.
In other words, I spilled a lot of the Augmentin suspension. Six and a half of the necessary 20 doses, as it turns out. So I called the pediatricians’ office (yes, there are two of them, so don’t look down your nose and question my use of the apostrophe) and they phoned in another prescription for me. McH went to pick it up last night, and the lovely Wally World pharmacy wanted $95.00 for it. Our insurance wouldn’t cover any of it because, you know, it doesn’t take care of spills. I guess we’ll just leave that to the paper towel folks.
Interestingly enough, $95.00 was the full price, had we had to pay it, of the full 20 doses of Augmentin. Anyway, McH and I made the executive decision that $95.00 for 6.5 doses of medicine is crap, so we told the Wally World pharmacist he could just go take care of his own boogers with it (not really, but we didn’t buy it).
In the meantime, I looked up Augmentin online and found that it is mostly made of Amoxicillin, which most pharmacies practically give away. So, this morning I called the pediatricians’ office again to see if we couldn’t just have them phone in a prescription for four days worth of Amoxicillin instead, or, you know, is there some really important magical reason that my son goes from needing Claritin for his sinuses to needing amoxicillin/clavulanate potassium?
And the nurse says?
“Does he seem to be better yet?”
“Yes,” I tell her. “The green gunk is gone already.”
“Well,” she says, “Then I just wouldn’t worry about it. If he’s already better, let’s just leave it at what he’s already taken, and if the symptoms start to come back then you can bring him back in.”
“Right,” I say, “and you said your name was Lisa???? ‘Cause I need to make sure I know who to dime out when I bring my kid back in next week to have his ears checked and they find there is still fluid back there.”
Okay, okay, I didn’t exactly say that. I did, however, question the whole thing about giving antibiotics exactly as prescribed so as not to leave behind any little bacteria that would then become drug resistant and possibly make the rest of my son’s existence something of drug-resistant nightmare.
But Lisa doesn’t seem to think that will be a problem.
A friend of mine, who is a nurse and has kids who get sinus infections, seems to think Lisa is a few pills short of a full prescription herself.
And finally? I think I may be coming down with something. But I’m not sure. My head kind of hurts a little. My throat kind of hurts a little more. I feel like I have a fever, but the trusty thermometer is saying 99.1, which hardly counts. But if it gets worse? Since my throat is involved? Probably strep. It’s me. It’s what happens. Think they’ll give me antibiotics in suspension form?
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt would never sit at the computer with a green colander on his head just because the two-year-old climbed up on his lap and put it there. No, Tewt has way more dignity than that.