Where is the end of your tether?

It has been a week-end full of contrasts. Gorgeous weather, sick children, chocolate goodies oh and did I mention the sick children?

Tommy developed a tight chest on Thursday night. He had to pick the night before a long week-end, I hear that is an unspoken rule amongst children, pick the most difficult time to fall ill - it ensures that you have the undivided attention of every adult at all times! Anyway, he developed a tight chest which sounded exactly like Crupe. Years ago my sister suffered from bouts of Crupe at the change of every season until the age of about 6 so I remember the sound all too well. Unfortunately I hadn't yet bought a humidifier because I am a bad mother and thus I don't deserve healthy children, so the poor tyke had to make do until Friday morning. I called out doctors emergency number on Friday morning and they had the on duty nurse call me back.

I explained the situation and mentioned that Nate was showing some signs of getting it as well. Her advice was to dose them up every 4 hours or so on paracetamol and if necessary alternate with Ibuprofen. Unfortunately it seems that not much more could be done over the long week-end - didn't we know that people (including doctors) are on holiday? So we muddled through and admittedly the days weren't too bad.

Last night the boys slept really well. They woke occasionally from the barking but seemed willing and able to go back to sleep without too much prompting. I took this to be a sign that we had reached a turning point and I made the silly mistake of lowering my guard.

Roll on this evening, by bath time both boys were winging and rubbing their eyes so we knew that they were exhausted from all the activities over the week-end. We followed the same routine that we have used for the last 7 months with nothing different. We bathed, dresses and fed them and took them off to bed as we always do except Tommy decided that he didn't want to sleep. None of the normal tricks worked and he alternated between crying and laughing. I tried ignoring him but he woke Nathan up so he had to be re-settled. I tried pacing, the RO tried his full repertoire of tricks too. Eventually in desperation I took Tommy into our room and put him on the bed. The poor chap was obviously exhausted as was evident in his inability to keep his head up for more than a few seconds at a time but every time I tried to get him to lie down and relax he would fight it. Nearly 2 hours later he finally gave in and allowed me to return him to his bed.

I thought I knew what patience was before, now I'm just thankful that I have Fluoxetine to help me through these moments.

So what does it take to press your buttons?

A