Phase 1: Terms of Endearment
You're driving home from the gym and have just found out via cellphone that son has suddenly come down with a 103.5 degree temperature, has sores in his mouth and is crying for you. You become Aurora from Terms of Endearment yelling at your anti-medicine husband, "I don't see why he has to have this pain-- It's time for his Motrin. Do you understand? Do something? All he has to do is hold on until ten, and it's past ten. He's in pain. My son is in pain. Give him the Motrin! Do you understand me? Alternate the Tylenol and the Motrin!"
Phase 2: Comforts of Walgreens
You are waiting for the pharmacist to call your name over the speaker letting you know the precious elixir of life that is Amoxicillin is ready to bring home to son. Even though husband said, "Bring home some juice, but try not to spend anything else till payday tomorrow." you are loading up your basket with Super Hero coloring books, popsicles, jello, special sparkly Halloween skull pens and deep sea diver bathtub toys.
Phase 3: Thank God for the sedative effect
The elixir of life makes child very sleeeepy. You get down on your knees and thank Christ because if you had to hear that special whinymoan that son has made his own for one more minute you were gonna lose it. Lose. It.
Phase 4: The Emperor is born
After 3 days of an everflowing apple juice sippy cup and on-demand cinnamon toast you have stroked the fires of an already large toddler ego to bonfire proportions. "Mommy, my chicken is too hot." Blow. "Now it's too cold. Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! I need more juice! Now Mommy. Now! Oh, I hate Big Big World, Mommy put in Toy Story. Not Toy Story II, Toy Story I and make some popcorn. With juice. I need some juice now Mommy. Oooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaah."
Phase 5: I'm not Sick (by son)
Whee look at me, I'm bouncing off the walls because I've been laying on my toddlerass for 3 days. The energy has built up and is ready to be released unto the world. The world that I can't go out into yet cause I'm still "resting". So instead I terrorize baby sister, whine for more juice, demand that my paints be set up and then announce that I'm done exactly 68 seconds after I've picked up the brush. Wheee. Where are you going mommy? Are you going potty? (Pound pound on the door). Are you peeing or pooping? Mommy? Mommy? Mommy, after you wipe come and see how I stood baby sister up on the dining room table. Kay Mommy? Kay? I need more juice when you come out Mommy!
Phase 6: Escape to Kohls
Husband: (Walks into the house, sets keys on the table and looks at wife.)
Husband: Need to go out?
Husband: See you ...(sound of minivan tires squealing in the distance)...later.