Last week the babies had colds and about Tuesday I decided to take them to the doctor because I was ready to have a nervous breakdown. They were so miserable and Paige was also. Picture me trying to get anything done with two babies pulling on each pantleg. (It doesn't help that those pantlegs were always falling down because they were pajama pants--couldn't go upstairs to even get dressed without screaming and carrying on.) I was hoping they had ear infections, don't you always hope for that so you feel like you can blame it on something. We were planning on camping that weekend and had been telling the kids about it for weeks, so if it was curable I wanted them well. I made the appointment for Anna since she had the highest fever and figured I'd try and get him to check out Owen too. Well, he even looked at Paige and saw she had red spots on her palate so he gave all three thick, peanut buttery, penicillin shots in the butt and sent a swab from Paige to be tested for strep. Figured we were on our way to happiness. Nope. The next day I was rocking Owen and found some blisters on his hands, then I proceeded to look at the bottoms of his feet and sure enough, HFMD. (Hand, Foot and Mouth Disease) Why do we get this crap nearly every stinkin' year! So, our camping trip was ruined because the stuff if so contagious. Poor Weston didn't get to go last year because of the babies and we just kept saying, "We'll go next year when the babies are one." It's amazing how fast kids bounce back from disappointment. We pulled the camper behind the house and made a fire in the backyard and had a pretty good time by ourselves. The best part was, our real bathroom and I got to sleep in the house with the babies.
