Worst mother on earth right here.

I took Grant to the doctor today. We were there for three hours. Me, mason and Grant. Fun times.

I was in the car headed to the bank and HEB when the nurse returned my phone call about Grant at 11:24. After describing his symptoms - a cough that seems to be getting better, NO fever, healthy appetite, but this little wheezing - the nurse acted like I was awful for not bringing him in immediately.

This was tick mark one in the "worst mother" column. I didn't know, okay? He's been happy and cheerful and sleeping great. I know now. Wheezing in any teeny tiny form should immediately be reported to a medical professional. I must have missed that section of Grant's owner's manual.

During the 11:24 am phone call I was told that I could have an appt at 11:30. Um, like six minutes from now 11:30? So I drove straight through the bank line without cashing a check that was, well, desperately needed, and headed for the doctor. No snacks. No bottle. No toys to occupy the elder child.

Tick mark two in the "worst mother" column.

When we arrive at the doctor I checked in and the waiting began. And seemingly never ended. The whole time I am sitting there I was just thinking what a horrible mother I am for not bringing him in sooner. These were my thoughts: "He's been cheerful. The cough was getting better. BUT, horrible mother, he's three months old and wheezing. Wheezing! And the cough has been around for a while. But, he's been sleeping so well. and never ran a fever and is super cheerful, BUT, you stupid mother who shouldn't be, your mom told you..." and so on.

After TWO hours of sitting in the waiting room with only two other people, we were called in. We had to see Dr. Young whose nurse made it very clear that "it's been very busy. There are only two doctors doing the work of eight..." She was nice though. Anyway, we go through the whole weighing (16.8 lbs), and temperature taking and interrogation of the inadequate mother, followed by another forty minute stint waiting for the actual doctor, who again interrogated me upon arrival.

Tick Mark three for waiting so long to bring him in. Tick Mark four for snapping at Mason a dozen times for petty things. Tick Mark five for not knowing the precise moment in time that the cough/wheezing/congestion began.

The Doctor busts out the stethoscope. Grant is adorably giggling through the whole examination. She says we are going to give him a breathing treatment and listen again.

We wait for the breathing treatment. It finally arrives. I cover my poor little baby's face with an a mask as medicine fogs around him. The guilt has hit a new high.

The doctor returns, listens again, washes her hands and then says, "If I were a betting person, I would bet he has RSV."

Tick Marks 6-10 for allowing your three month to somehow contract this horrible disease. Tick Marks 11-20 for not doing anything sooner.

So, we were sent home with a nebulizer and a prescription for arbu...tol...something and now Grant has to have breathing treatments every four hours until Wednesday when he has to go back to my doctor to make sure he actually has RSV and to see what we need to do.

So, after three hours at the doctor, an hour at HEB waiting for the prescription, finally at about 4 pm I feed both my children and myself.

Like I said worst mother on earth here.

So Grant has RSV. We will be homebound for some time....Except that Grant's first day of daycare is supposed to be on Thursday...

Absolute worst mother on earth.

Obviously he can't go to daycare. I have to go to work. Stupid dumb stupid stupid work. I have to figure this out. Sigh.

So here we are. Rock - Jenny - Hard Place.

It will work out. God willing it will work out.

God will it.

God, will it?