Today's debate

Today's debate was a tough one.
I was pretty sure Cambrie might be developing an ear infection.
Granted, my medical degree is self-imposed, but some of the sure signs were there. (I'll spare you the details, unless, of course, you are my sister who is expecting baby #1. Then, I'll fill you in...should you so inquire.)

Cambrie is normally an angelic child. Seriously. If I could trademark her personality, we could retire. And we'd be wealthy. She's that good....and happy. (Yeah, yeah, I know that one day she'll be THREE and I will be eating these words. But for now, she's pretty close to perfect. And since I'm her mother, I am allowed to think that.)

That's a really long way of getting to the point. But, given that she's cried more in the past two days than she has in the past two weeks...well, it was a good indicator that she wasn't feeling so hot.

Enter: THE DEBATE.

Do I take a possibly sick child, and two healthy children, to the doctor's office where I expose them to heaven-only-knows-how-many-germs-including-but-not-limited-to-H1N1?? I don't want to live my life paranoid (which is why I find myself avoiding most media outlets these days. And this -- from a journalism major. Go figure.), but I don't want to be stupid either.

The sad, crying child won out...so we hit the Urgent Care while Cannon was at scouts.

Turns out, all magazines and toys have been removed from the waiting room. Purell lurks on every countertop. Signs are posted on every wall warning that sick patients should notify medical personnel immediately if they are exhibiting or have experienced flu symptoms.

Kenzie dropped Cambrie's blanket on the floor and I jumped to grab it as if someone was about to scald the poor child. Ok, not really. I was going for dramatic effect in my story-telling. But, I did feel more on edge than normal. Like there was something there just waiting to attack or hurt my kids. I really wanted them to be in a bubble.

Lucky for us...we had the room nearly to ourselves AND we were in and out...with ear-infection diagnosis and prescription in 40 minutes. A record to be sure.

We picked up Cannon and stopped to get something to eat. I told the girls not to share the same straw. (I'm too cheap to buy everyone their own drinks so we always share. Sorry if that is gross -- but it's way more economical than 4 separate and wasted drinks. We are a large family and we come into contact with each quite a bit.)

Then we went to Giant Eagle to fill the prescription. While there, we grabbed some much needed items (Hot chocolate and toilet paper. We can do without many things...but not these). On more than one occasion, Kenzie ended up or sat down upon the floor. (Tripped once, sat down and pouted once, picked up a penny, dropped her sweater...) Gross. Yes...at any time, it's gross to come into contact with the floor of the grocery store. But, in the midst of the H1N1 paranoia and flu season? C'mon...work with me child. Have we not discussed germs ad nauseum?

Amdist my reprimands and voiced frustrations, we discovered the Clorox wipes were on sale - 4 for $10. I instructed Cannon to grab two in lemon scent and two in lavender scent. His response? "Since when are you a clean freak?"

Deep breath. I tried not to be offended by the fact that apparently, prior to now, my 9-year-old son had no knowledge that I care about things being clean and sanitary. Has he not noticed that I don't step foot inside his room any more than necessary? Does he not wonder why he is told EVERY SINGLE DAY that he MUST change his socks and underwear? Does he think I insist they do their chores because I like the sound of my own voice repeating the same instructions day after day after day....?

Clearly, I've dropped the ball somewhere.

Sigh.

The kids are now in bed. Cambrie started her medicine and is sleeping like the little angel she is. I just scoured the kitchen counters with Clorox wipes and bleach. Cambrie's blanket and Kenzie's sweater are in the wash. I'm too tired to mop the floors. They'll have to wait until tomorrow...at least. The microwave has been signaling that my hot chocolate is ready for about 20 minutes now.

Drink up. It could be a long winter.