No More Tears

I had to pick up Rachel from the school nurse's office today. She went in for a cough drop and had a 100.5 degree fever.

Somehow, I managed to line up a doctor's appointment on the way home. Rachel started crying, fearing she would get a shot.

Well, as it turns out, she didn't. But many tears were shed as she had her throat swabbed for the first time. There was a sudden stunned look on her face and she looked at me as if to say, "How can you allow this to happen?" before she burst into tears.

When the doctor came in, the crying resumed. Doctor Cooper assured Rachel he wouldn't hurt her; he said he leaves that to the nurses. He looked at her throat, in her ears and checked her breathing.

Diagnosis: Croupy cough. Remedy: Liquid steroid with a possible side effect of making her hyper. Daddy's note: Oh, great!

As a reward, I took her to Olive Garden. She cleaned her plate of spaghetti, so she earned a kids' chocolate gelato. As the woman at the next table left, she eyed the dessert and expressed wishes she could have one.

We told her Rachel had just finished at the doctor, but she didn't have to get a shot."

"Yeah, I cried for nothing!" she related.

Setting The Record Straight

I don't know what made me do this, but I told Rachel today that I was the first person ever to fart.
"That move originated with me!" I trumpeted.
"No, it didn't!" Rachel countered. "Adam and Eve were first."

CSI Vomit

Parenthood changes you in so many ways, some of which you never imagined.

Take vomit for instance. Whether single or married, you don't generally give vomit much thought. It all changes when the little person who identifies you as 'mommy" or "daddy" goes all Linda Blair on you.

Our latest "moment of spew" occured at our favorite Mexican restaurant. Rachel had ordered her special, white chicken, no spices with tortilla provided separately. Our little Sally from "When Harry Met Sally."

We had arrived at the restaurant perilously close to Rachel's bedtime. She devoured her tortilla and drank her milk, but fell asleep before making any dent in her chicken.

Occasionally, I gave her a loving glance. Her glasses were framed by her gorgeous hair. Her stylish pink cowboy boots were tucked under her against the end of our wooden booth.

After about 20 minutes, she awakened and slammed the back of her head hard against the wood. Rachel usually cries at a hangnail, but strangely, she didn't cry here. She then shivered several times. Something seemed off. I held up three fingers and asked her how many she saw. She didn't respond. She just stared. Then, all of a sudden, she threw up, twice. And she still looked "out of it."

Rebecca and I did what all parents do. We started examining the evidence. "What's that? Well, that looks like...."

Rachel told us her head hurt really bad. We were very concerned and discussed taking her to a clinic or hospital. However, by the time we got to the car, Rachel was able to tell me how many fingers I was holding up, when her birthday was and answered other questions appropriately.

It wasn't until two hours later that Rebecca figured out what made Rachel sick. She had flattened her tortilla out on the table, rather than her plate. Apparently, remnants of the cleaning solution the restaurant used to wipe off the table seeped into the tortilla. When Rachel ate it, she got sick.

You never know where danger may lurk.

Rachel Loves Me

I was away from Rebecca and Rachel for the first time in my seven years of marriage last week. I was a groomsman in a wedding in Portland, Oregon. I had a good time and love how fresh the air smelled. I was gone Wednesday through Sunday.

The next day was Presidents Day. Rachel had no school. We made up for lost time. We played baseball in the front yard....with Rachel standing on her mini-trampoline. We blew soap bubbles. We drew chalk on the pavement. We played tag. We cleaned the gutter next to our driveway, so rain runoff would not be impeded by dirt and leaves. She found an earthworm, which she made her pet, wormy. We rode our bike and picked up imaginary passengers. She was clearly happy to be back with her daddy and the feeling was mutual.

Later in the day, she told me she loved me in a unique way. She said, "I like to be on you, with you or know where you are.'

Awwwwww!

Rebecca's Handiwork

And Rebecca painstakingly sewed 100 buttons into this design. Safe to say she is a lot more patient than her husband!

Rachel at 100

For the 100th day of school, Rachel and her classmates were to dress up as if they were 100 years old. Rachel looks pretty good for a centenarian!