I wish I could catch everyone up on the last three days but I’m having trouble holding my head up right now, let alone composing a decent sentence. Quickly, Em started having night terrors last week and we don’t know why. We just want to put an end to them and have no idea how to go about doing so. Last night was horrific.
Are you familiar with night terrors? I need to start doing some research and that’s going to require that I consume a lot more coffee.
This morning I decided that since Em is on his fourth round of antibiotics, we’d revisit the homemade pancake. He’s not supposed to have much wheat, but we let him have a little bit from time to time.
Nothing like waiting until the last minute, right? We’ve decided to celebrate Easter this year (and by celebrate, I mean eat candy) and I haven’t the slightest clue what I’m going to do for Em. He’s still a little young, so searching for hidden plastic eggs or dying the real ones probably isn’t an option for us. But I do want to get him a basket of some sort.
Instead of writing a woefully unrelated and hypothetical tale filled with loss and anguish and making this about me, I am going to encourage you to visit to The March of Dimes, and donate whatever you can spare in the name of Maddie Spohr.
I have type O negative blood. I really gave this little thought up until yesterday when my mother and I started talking about blood type. I told her I was O negative and she remembered something about the negative Rh factor. My eyes glazed over. Rh? Huh? Antigens who? Uncle what?
This recipe is nothing amazing, but it sure beats spending an arm and a leg on pre-made pizza dough from the store. Plus, you get to control what goes into it. And I love controlling what goes into my baked goods. (HFCS, I’m talking to you.)
It’s been a long couple of months for us health wise. Em has been sick on and off since December. Earaches, asthma and constipation have had Toby Joe and I at a loss for what to do next. It’s been a great big guessing game. We’re guessing more now than we were when he was first born, something I didn’t think was possible.
Jonathan sent me an interesting article from Adage about how a few vocal people can give an impression that something is a much bigger deal that it really is. (Remember the Motrin scandal?)
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