Friday, May 2, 2014
Mary Clare has had a rough week. We noticed last year that she has some seasonal allergy sensitivity, but wowsers. This year there was no question about it — allergies hit her full force. What's interesting is that when we lived on Botanical, we were only one block off of Tower Grove Park, and we would have to keep the windows closed or deal with visible pollen on every interior surface.
We are still surrounded by a plethora of trees, and our cars are certainly coated in pollen, but other than that I haven't noticed it in other areas outside the house, and I have yet to see that telltale green on any of my cleaning cloths. I'm not sure what the difference is, but Mary Clare is suffering, my poor girl.
She is taking Allegra regularly, we are doing eye drops and I wipe her hands and face every chance I get. Last night night we broke out the big guns with some Benadryl. Her teacher's daughter has severe allergies, so when Mrs. Green recommended we try that, as well as some other things, I didn't hesitate. Chip, on the other hand, was all, "What's the D in the name stand for?" And I'm all, "Who the hell cares? It says 'children's' on it and this poor girl needs a good night's rest! Now, quick, Mary Clare, drink this yummy grape stuff before your daddy tells us it's not safe."
And now you know how things work in our house.
Anyway, I went in later to check on her, and there she was, soundly sleeping thanks to a mother who is unwilling to read labels, but willing to blindly follow the suggestion of another mother. And she looked so sweet, I just had to take a picture. She may be five, she may be finishing up Pre-K in two weeks and she may be growing overnight, but she is still my baby, and I still love watching her sleep. Even when it is a drug-induced sleep.