Not an incredibly productive day, although I did get that Kinko's letter mailed. It's a quarter to seven and I've written a third of what I needed to get done by the end of the day. Okay, no biggie, we'll just have to push back the end of the day by another, oh, six hours.
Nothing really went wrong although I did keep getting distracted by my own yarn, and the seeds arrived for the garden, and the pattern arrived for the twins' Aran sweaters . . .
After lunch I lay down next to the twins in my big bed and worked on Baby Oliver's sweater while waiting for the twins to fall asleep. Ben did. Milo didn't. I waited and waited and waited . . . nope. Wide awake. But as I waited I noticed that no matter how hard he coughed--two or three times a minute it seemed--he never got the crackling to go away in his lungs. I thought about it some more and sort of vaguely remembered my brother saying that crackling was one of those things you were supposed to take them in for. I would have called him but he's in Paris or something with my sister-in-law enjoying one last exotic vacation before they settle down for a bit.
So I took him in. Milo *loves* going to the doctor. It's so exciting and it's all about him. He charms the pants off of every professional he talks to. So he happily wheezed on cue and earned himself an albuterol breathing treatment which Milo did like a pro. We left with a prescription and after a stop at home to pick up my HSA checkbook, we went to Wegman's to fill the prescription. No luck--they were out of the dosage called for. So I bought some vics thinking maybe that would help and we'll go back in the morning to get the real thing. We bought a bake-it-yourself pizza and went home.
And that is how I had a mildly productive morning and haven't gotten a thing done since 12:30pm. Right. Back to work.