Jake is leaving behind the last year with a bang. Saturday a fever and breathing problems came out of nowhere, and by this morning he had lost his voice and was in obvious pain. Turns out he has croup, which sounds like something people should have stopped getting in the 1800's, but apparently it's still around "especially for children in day care." I hate when doctors say that. And she said this right before she strapped a big oxygen mask on Jake's face, told us he'd have to have a "breathing treatment" for 15 minutes, and left the room. Fifteen minutes! An almost-two-year old not feeling well with a mask strapped on his face? I tried my best to keep it on him, and I have the bruises on my shins to prove it.
We spent the day trying to follow doctors orders by getting lots of rest (I think we watched "Cars" 17 times), drinking enough juice boxes to fill a small landfill, and taking non-recalled doses of Motrin every 6-8 hours. Sounds like the little guy is going to have a rough week while he recovers from this, but I'm feeling lucky that he's peacefully asleep in his crib right now and hopeful that he'll shake this in time to fully enjoy turning "deuce" next Thursday.
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