Our household was recently hit by the dreaded lurgy (which is one of those British phrases I'd very much like to get people using here in the US). A couple of weeks ago, Owen brought home a daycare cold, which resulted in getting me sick. He recovered pretty quickly but, having given the munchkin all my antibodies, I didn't fare so well. After the cold symptoms dissipated, the following week of sinus headaches led me to the ENT doctor. He congratulated me on the general disturbing state of my sinuses and tonsils, then sent me home with a 10 day dose of antibiotics. The drugs had just taken hold on my infection when Owen started coughing and wheezing, leading to a weekend trip to urgent care where he was diagnosed with bronchitis. Now we have to give him breathing treatments with albuterol twice a day, which essentially means we wave a wand that is spewing vapor into his mouth and try to get him to stay still for 10 minutes while it works it's magic and opens up his airways. There is nothing fun about this. Trying to get a six month old to stay in one spot for 10 minutes is hard enough as is, let alone with something that he doesn't understand shoved in his face. If he doesn't start crying straight away, I will potentially spend those 10 minutes trying to wrestle the wand out of his hands because he's trying to eat it. This morning he thought it was a gigantic straw and was trying to suck liquid out of it, then got frustrated because it wasn't working. The kid is too smart for his own good.
Somewhere in the middle of all that, we did have cause for celebration. Owen turned 6 months on Monday. That's half a year since he burst into our lives and changed us forever. I can hardly believe it. In that he was sick, I didn't get to do the photoshoot that I was hoping to, but snapped some pics on my cell phone to commemorate. I'll do a proper photoshoot with him in the next couple of weeks. I'd say his "blue steel" is pretty good already though.
Yesterday, it was my birthday. I'd say 34 is a relative non-event, and the universe did feel the need to remind me of that as I struggled with car trouble and a wheezing baby, which meant my celebratory dinner ended up being Indian takeout, obtained and hand-delivered by my loving husband. It certainly wasn't the ideal birthday but, in the end, I was surrounded by my boys (the big one, the small one, and the furry one) and I can't complain about that too much.