Croup... again

You know you're a mother when your child coughs so hard (thank you, croup) that he vomits all over himself (four different times), his carseat, and the minivan, and here's the kicker: you're not phased. At all. You pull into the am/pm, take some towels, clean up the vomit, undress the boy down to his Buzz Lightyear undies, put him back in half dressed (only had an extra pair of pants), buy a super big gulp cup (39 cent rip off) should he need to vomit again, and continue on your merry way. I've crossed the threshold (especially after fecal foot matter incident), and these kind of things are just the everyday part of life.

After confirmation from the doctor this morning, Grant has a bad case of croup (worse than last time), and he had to have a steroid shot in hopes of reducing airway swelling. If it doesn't work in 12 hours, we're off to the ER for some special breathing treatment. Right now, he's resting peacefully thanks to some cough suppressant with codeine. Better living through chemistry, people.

Please pray for our little guy because the doctor put him on strict bed rest (yeah, right; he's two), so we're taking in lots and lots of Thomas the Tank Engine today.