All is Quiet

I love our pediatrician. He's not an in-your-face practitioner. He knows that I'm the one who has the ultimate responsibility for the well-being of these children. He's a partner in the plan, and we appreciate that. He listens. He advises. And then he leaves the ball in our court. He. Is. Wonderful. He was careful to check for any concurrent icks that may be going on, and all looks well. He also wrote a refill on the prescription in case the other three monkeys get the eye crud over the weekend. Zorak has it, too, poor guy.

John is resting now. He's got antibiotic drops for his eyes, and they sting. I'm pretty sure he cried most of the medication out. Quietly. Holding my hand. He didn't fuss, but you could tell he was miserable. I slipped out of the room to douse a cotton pad in "Mother's Secret Antibiotic Solution" *grin*, and brought it back to him. It's soothing and comforting, and he's now sound asleep, and healing. Tomorrow will be much better.

Miss Emily's teething and her cold kept her up until about two-thirty last night. John awoke at three with his eye glued shut and was awake until a little after five. Just as I got him settled in and asleep, Smidge awoke and ran screaming from his room. I found him in the kitchen, crying and calling for me. Turned out he had bad dreams. By the time all was said and done, I slept about 45 minutes last night. So I'm going to bed.

And I'm thankful for the bed.
For the babies.
For the soft, warm covers.
I'm thankful for the warm, nourishing meal Zorak prepared while I was out with John today.
For the hugs all around when we returned.
For the rest that evening brings, and the fresh start that rises with the sun.

I couldn't talk Zorak out of a foot rub, but that's okay. There is still so much to be thankful for.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy