Phew!

Well, we're over the hives. That poor girl had them head to toe. She was miserable and cranky, and tired enough from the benadryl to be bitchy, but not tired enough to sleep. I felt for her, though. The worst part was, she had no sense of humor. The doctor at the after-hours clinic said he was going to listen to her heart and then put his stethoscope on her forehead - and, honestly, that's funny stuff - and she just stared at him like, "seriously?" I kept calling her Hivey McRasherstein, and she kept yelling, "Mommy! Its not funny!!!!" I was in the hospital with tubes up my nose and gross, grainy potassium tablets and I still had a sense of humor. Sheesh, some people.

I had a couple of mornings in there where I wanted to kill myself. The dog got into my room and ate the cat food and hid under the bed. Actually, that time, I guess I wanted to kill him. Then I knocked a wine glass to the floor with my elbow and it shattered. A wine glass! The chalice that holds the sacred mommy-juice! Its almost criminal. And there was other stuff, but I've blocked it out by now.

But, we're through it now. We on the other side. We made it. Now we have to get into the weening her off the TV and special treats that she gets when she is sick.

I have to go. My food photographer neighbor just dropped off a very pretty chocolate cake, and I have to eat it. She's trying to kill me.