My baby.... my poor, poor baby.
Pearl has the ear infection double whammy going... again. She has had a cold for a week, then last night she started digging at and yanking on her ears... and crying. Great big croupy sobs that could only be soothed by sitting on Daddy's lap so she can watch while his Night Elf fights enormous, nasty spider things. Gives me the willies, but it's mother's milk to her. Makes it fair, in my mind, that the girls call those cardboard cheese Totino's "pizzas": Daddy Pizza. You have to understand that Dadguy is the snootiest pizza gourmand I know. It's double funny because he hates frozen pizza of any ilk, but since Totino's tastes nothing like pizza, he's chill with them and wants to eat one occasionally. And so they call it DADDY PIZZA! Snerk... mmmphf! WAHahahahahahaaa!
On the flip side? They call Tums, "Mama Candy."
So today was a saga what with the snow, and the doctor's office waiting room, and the hospital Radiology waiting room, and the waiting, and the crusty trio of snot encrusted Crash Girls... waiting. The upshot is, contrary to what she sounds like, Pearl does not have walking pneumonia (would that be crawling pneumonia in her case?), nor scar tissue on her lungs or trachea. We don't know what's going on... but it's not that. We go to see an Ear, Nose and Throat specialist on the 15th... we hope that an ENT will have the answers for us. Serious... this poor kids breathing is so raspy and gurgling loud that she has to hold her breath to listen. I'm not talking "sick Pearl"... this is "every day Pearl" that sound like this. The other good news is that this is all "free" since we have finally hit our massive, freaking deductible for health insurance. Yay. Go us.