Raising Reagan

I have a feeling of calm today.

Even after hearing the news last week of the terrorist plot to blow up one of the biggest building in Dallas...only blocks from where we used to live...I still feel at ease.

I now know that the terrorists are just toying with us ...because if they were truly serious, they would inject strep throat into the government offices. No...not into the politicians themselves, but into their children.

I'm fairly certain that NOTHING can bring a seemingly functional family...or already dysfunctional government office... to a screeching halt than when a four year old...like Reagan...get's strep.

No school. No sleep. No fun. She became the patient, we lost our patience.

Reagan began her flu-like symptoms last week around Wednesday. As the temperature went up, she equally wound down. It would probably be wrong to sometimes wish their kid had a fever, but anywhere over 102, and they usual Chevy Chase prat-fall antics cease, and all she wants to do is watch her shows...quietly...ahhhhhh.

Other than a few doses of motrin and the concern of explaining 'swine' flu to a four year old ("No, Reagan, you're not turning into a pig...any more than usual..."), getting past the flu is doable.

Strep, however, involves seemingly unexplainable throat pain ( "Daddy, why can't you make it stop hurting?!" is a tough one to swallow). Even worse is the lack of sleep, which then leads to night terrors. I mean HER night terrors, but eventually it becomes ours as well!

Once sleep exits the building, so does the functionality. All of the sudden there's subtle arguments over who's going to sooth the crazy kid tapping her throat in the other room, or what's for breakfast or even how to properly flush a non-working toilet. We were less tired after running a half marathon!! So now NO one wants to do anything, and NOTHING productive gets done (which really, is what the weekends are for, no?).

This morning was a tough go, but Reagan has been on her antibiotics...aka...'magical pink fairy milk'...(hey...whatever it takes)...for over two days now. The note from the doctor says that the school may take her back into the germ factory that introduced this pain to her/us in the first place, after this had occurred. But re-delivering a sick kid BACK into school prompts looks from teachers and parents alike that...well...prompt further explanation that your child is, in fact, NOT turning into a pig.

Besides...if we keep her out of Pre-K, the terrorists win.