WAIT WAIT ONE MORE, just because I cannot believe I missed the middle finger bit yesterday:
Seriously, I'm SLIPPING, you guys.
Ezra's face is just fine today, and he is currently coated in three (3!) different bug-repellant sprays of various natural and toxic varieties. This is how I tackle problems: I just throw the entire medicine cabinet at them.
We did visit the doctor yesterday -- technically we were already scheduled to be there anyway for make-up vaccines* but of course I managed to squeeze in a little conversation about OH HEY LOOK AT MY DISFIGURED CHILD. He's fine, though I recommend everybody go ahead and buy stock in Zyrtec and Benadryl this summer.
And speaking of medicine cabinets and doctors' offices, indulge me while I engage in a few rants about the scintillating topic of children's medicines:
1) First up, thanks so much, TYLENOL, for the recent refund check we received from your recent recall. We chucked about $50 worth of your products -- including the hard-to-find dye-free versions because your Red #40-laden regular versions make my preschooler go apeshit, which is always a great combination with already-generally-sick-and-jerky-acting. It was especially awesome to toss out the almost-empty bottles that I'd been generously dosing everybody from all winter.
2) But actually that really doesn't have anything to do with anything else in this entry.
3) Just about every bottle of medicine we own (other than the infant versions, which are pretty much limited to acetaminophen and ibuprofen) does not list a dosage for a child Ezra's age. No weight guidelines, no nothing, just "do not use" or "consult a doctor." I know this is technically in response to a number of parents incorrectly dosing their children and causing a lot of inadvertent harm. And harm is bad! I am not a fan of harm! But can anyone honestly say that removing ANY recommended dosage from the labels is actually a BETTER idea?
4) Because you know when kids get sick or swollen or asshole-y? After hours. When there's no one answering the phone at the doctor's office, and it's 2:15 in the morning and you're blearily staring at a bottle of never-used-but-about-to-expire Benadryl, wondering if you really do need to call some after-hours hotline or clinic or ER to find out how much you can give a 23-pound 19-month-old. For his mosquito bite.
5) And you know what? People don't call. I mean, I'm sure some do, but plenty don't. They Google. Or they totally guess. Which: Jeez, nothing bad will ever come of that, Children's Medicines Industry, oh noooo.
6) That said, the Internet told us a half teaspoon was a safe dosage for his age and weight, but Jason still insisted that Ezra sleep with us just so he could sit there all night watching him breathe because we are all so going to die of either mosquito bites or Benadryl overdoses, because my husband is kind of a total freak when it comes to his babies, IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED.
7) But then, at the office, the doctor was all, "Bitch, please. No wonder he looks like Eric Stoltz from Mask. Give him the whole freaking teaspoon, it's fine."
8) *throws hands up in air, gives up*
*Hey! Did you know there's a well-baby visit at 15 months? And then another one at 18 months? And if you only remember the one at 18 months everybody glares at you because your baby needs about four frillion shots and like, is so going to get fucking polio now or something? It is true. I know this because I am a parenting expert on the Internet**. Also, because I forgot about the 15-month check-up and totally got glared at.
**Which is to say: Do not use, consult a doctor.