Housekeeping Tip

For a nice, "just waxed" shine on your wooden floors, try a coat of Dimetapp Cold and Allergy. As an added bonus, the grape flavor gives your home a delightful, fruity smell.

How would I know this?

It all began a few days ago, after the beautiful autumn weather settled in and brought with it cool breezes, falling leaves...

...and allergies.

All of my children have seasonal allergies, but Brother and Baby have it the worst. Brother takes Claratin, so his have been somewhat tempered. Baby has been miserable. She's had a cough and hasn't been able to breathe well, which means she doesn't sleep well, which means I don't sleep well.

And that is a problem.

I hate having to give my children medicine and will wait as long as I possibly can. With Baby, I've tried to keep the Dimetapp to naptime and bedtime.

But it hasn't been enough.

I've had to up the dosage to every 4-6 hours. Problem is, I didn't consult her before I began this process, and she is very unhappy about the decision. In order to convince me of her extreme displeasure, she has taken to screaming, flailing, hitting, clenching her mouth closed, spitting out what little gets in her mouth and just generally refusing to take part in the medication ritual.

Beautiful, tender moments to cherish forever and always.

So around midnight last night, after two hours of her tossing, turning, snorting and coughing, I decided I might as well wrassle her down and try to get a little something in her. I was exhausted after two days of not getting much sleep and in no mood for games.

I take her to the kitchen, where I have the plastic, measuring spoon thingie and sit her down in a chair. She cries while I get the Dimetapp and pour it into the spoon. Thinking perhaps she might be tired and disoriented enough to actually cooperate, I come at her smiling, offering the sticky, grape liquid as though it were mint chocolate chip ice cream cone.

Apparently I was the one who was disoriented.

She immediately turns her head and lets out a shriek of disapproval.

No more Mr. Nice Guy.

I take her in my arms and put the wrestling hold on her, pinning her hands down and positioning her head between my arm and shoulder.

Oh, but she's obstinate.

She spits it out, letting it run down her neck and into her hair. She got some, but I don't know how much. She needs more, but I don't know how much more.

I'm tired.

I'm sick of fighting her.

I'm frustrated with the whole thing.

I just want to sleep.

So, what do I do?

The thing most helpful to the situation.

The mature thing.

I do what any rational, thoughtful parent would do.

I throw things.

I first throw the plastic spoon against the wall. But it was too light. It didn't make a nice "thud". So I chuck the bottle of Dimetapp. It bounces off the wall and into the floor.

Not good enough.

I pick it up and throw it again.

This time it makes a great thud. So great it pops the lid off the childproof bottle and the bottle goes rolling into the living room. All the way across the room to the front door, leaving a sweet, purple trail.

After bathing Baby and mopping the floor, we got to bed around 1:00 a.m., where we both slept most soundly.

Weird. My floor is shiny.