It's been a bad 24 hours. The Cliff's Notes Version: Last night there was identical puking in identical cribs. Followed by twin refusal to go to bed because they suddenly decided they felt better and wanted to have fun. Today there was a wheezy twin that sounded like a squeaky toy. So, the doctor was called--an appointment was made. And I ended up arriving 20 minutes late because the children refused to cooperate with getting dressed and fed and all of those necessary things. There was an x-ray where wheezy twin had to be fastened into a device resembling a medieval torture apparatus. A prescription was written for an asthma inhaler that cost 70 dollars because insurance wouldn't cover it. Traffic caused our normally 25 minute drive to the doctors to be 1 hour and 35 minutes. And the whole time that we were stuck on the freeway Maggie thought she needed a drink, then food, then to go to the bathroom, then to watch a movie and play with her toys. Tantrums were thrown at each of those intervals even though none of the things she wanted were available in the car. I am beyond frazzled. Is it really only 5? Can I go to bed yet?
An ornery 3 year old, her asthmatic sibling, and his twin who keeps pooping every 15 minutes just for the smell of it are up for sale. Cheap.
P.S. A special thanks to my in-laws who met us at the doctors office, without who's help I would have completely lost it and would probably be checked into a mental institution.