This week was the type of week where a Mommy (only a bad mommy) starts googling adoption agencies in hope that someone else might want a blonde, blue eyed DEVIL. Our sweet Carson was abducted and replaced with a lookalike that is a spawn from Satan himself.
It started on Sunday night when we awoke to a barking cough at midnight. That kicked off 48 hours of cartoon marathon to get through round 5 with croup. Thankfully I had a dose of steroids leftover from the last bout in September. I self-medicated him.
After two days straight of Dora, Mickey, and the Little Einsteins, I HAD to take him to school the next day or I might have been commited to an insane asylum.
We made it through Wednesday with a severe case of the bi-polars. Ranting, screaming, and raving one minute and laughing the next. Carson swung from high to low minute by minute. Hitting, kicking, and that's when the googling began.
Wednesday night I began spiraling downhill after catching Carson's cold. The TV came back on Thursday as I was too sick and tired to play. Now we are in serious TV addiction mode which brings out the devil even more.
Today, I dropped Carson off at school SCREAMING at the top of his lungs. Bloody-freakin-murder screaming. I told them to dope him up with baby Motrin and ran out the door. It couldn't even slam me in the butt on the way out because I was running so fast (wheezing and sneezing but running).
Then tonight when we picked him up from school, we had our first laugh all week. His teachers had done all the girls hair up in pigtails. Carson was the only boy but he was not immune. He had six perfect pigtails that were each an inch long. He LOVED it!
"Crazy hair, mommy!" One of his favorite books is called "Crazy Hair Day" and now he was living his dream!
Then tonight on the way home from dinner with friends, Carson pitifully whimpered from his car seat, "Help me mommy". It was dark. I couldn't really see what he needed help with.
"Help me mommy, me stuck." Again I searched the rear view mirror for what on earth he could be stuck in. He didn't have any toys. He didn't have any snacks.
But again, "Mommy, me stuck. Help me." Fortunately we were stopped at a red light, so Daddy and I both turned around to see what on earth could be happening.
HIS FINGER WAS STUCK IN HIS NOSE!!!
Was it really? No. But it was jammed up to the second knuckle and I swear he could have tickled his brain with another 1/8 inch.
And he really wanted us to help him pull out his finger. This apparently is a toddler's idea of a practical joke. We laughed for a good five minutes, which only encouraged him to do it over and over.
I guess we'll keep him after all.
I'll just file away the adoption agency forms for another bad week.