It seems I have just about perfected the art of diagnosing the boys' illnesses over the years because I was right on the money again with Dracen last week. I told him I thought he had Bronchitis or possibly Pneumonia with a slight chance that it could be the flu which was exactly what the doctor thought. Chest x-ray, clear. Flu test, negative. Conclusion...Bronchitis. Too bad I can't write prescriptions. It would save us a lot of time, money and unnecessary whining.
The magic medicine (a.k.a. antibiotic) had him feeling better in no time and after he and his brother slept until high noon yesterday (thanks to Presidents Day) they got up and made their best attempt at driving me completely and utterly INSANE. I swear bickering and arguing with each other comes more naturally to those two than breathing in and out. It's like they need it to survive.
They also like to play a little game called let's-make-the-dogs-go-ape-sh*t-by-knocking-and-stomping-really-loud-so-they-think-a-very-large-unfriendly-stranger-has-entered-the-premises. That's always fun. Until the dogs get smart at which time they like to play let's-howl-like-a-pack-of-wolves-so-the-dogs-will-all-join-in. It's really a thousand wonders I don't have a substance abuse problem. I deserve a medal or something.
Because there was a time or two yesterday when I found myself this close to hurling my Kindle at somebody's head. They should be thanking their lucky stars that the good Lord gave me an extra dose when he was dishing out the willpower. Because let me tell you, it has saved both their little asses many, many a time. Though Devin's is not quite so little anymore. I suddenly noticed it Saturday.
Well, not literally his backside but his overall size. "Wait, hold up!" I shouted, and then, "Turn around." He looked scared. "Are you taller than me?!" I asked. "Is he TALLER than me?!" I repeated as I turned to Charlie. He had us turn back to back before comfirming that my firstborn has indeed now surpassed me in height.
I guess I should not have been surprised after that little discovery last week that his feet grew into size 10 man kicks overnight. I swear I just blogged about this a couple of months ago, didn't I? About how he would most likely grow taller than me over the next year? I just didn't realize it would happen so fast.
And is it just me or does life have a way of speeding up on us with every passing year? Because it still hasn't completely sunk in that he will be entering high school this August although we went to the first orientation last week and he has already registered for his freshman classes.
He asked me last night why I don't have any gray hair. I had to explain to him that I do have a few but I just keep my hair colored so you can't see them. He told me it's from stress and I told him that I think it has more to do with the fact that I'm almost 42 years old. He argued with me (because there's nothing he loves more than a good argument) saying that, according to Dr. Oz, it's because I'm stressed.
"So you and your brother are the cause then. Is that what you're saying?" I never heard his response because he was simultaneously having an argument with Charlie about Dracen's math homework on improper fractions which, surprisingly enough, I actually remembered how to do. I was both shocked and impressed with myself since I usually look at math homework with that possum-in-the-headlights syndrome before mumbling something like, "Er...I've got something in my eye. Go ask Charlie."
But this time I actually knew how to do the math without first consulting Google. Never mind the fact that Dracen was giving me the possum-in-the-headlights look when I tried to teach him how to do it because I was probably using some old school method they stopped using about twenty years ago. But hey, a right answer is still a right answer, right?
Unless of course your name is Devin or Dracen, in which case you must argue it out regardless and right up until bedtime.
Because although I never hurled anything at anybody's head yesterday, I can't say the same for Dracen who "accidentally" hit his brother in the head with a small metal object but insisted that he was really only trying to throw the object onto the bed when his brother's big head got in the way. DRAMA followed by retaliation followed by more DRAMA.
Nothing like one good heaping last dish of that stuff after a long hard day of wall climbing. They both went directly to bed without passing Go or collecting one red cent of their two hundred dollars...
I vote we skip Presidents Day next year.