Saturday was Jacob's first baseball game. I missed a lot of it because I was babysitting Danny, who was in A Mood, and handing out info sheets to other moms. One of the few scenes I caught:
    Our team was up at bat. Little N. shook her pigtails and hit the ball off the tee, and ran to first. The first base coach showed her how to lead off with one foot on the bag. Next kid comes up to bat, swings twice and hits the ball towards first base.... where Little N. reached out and attempted to catch the ball.

Later we went downtown to Wrigley Field for their garage sale. DH had wanted to purchase a brick from Wrigley, but when we got there and saw that they had old bench seats, he allowed that those were pretty cool, too. On our way to pick up our bench, I said how my brother might just die of jealousy, so DH went back and paid for another bench to send to him as a gift. (My bro bought us one of those Yuppie-Must-Have portable DVD players in January, which has gotten quite a lot of use ever since.) The pickers found us two really good samples -- each has a number still visible on top, with plenty of green paint still on it, and one even has a row number on the side as well. So that was cool.

That afternoon, I took Danny with me to work for a while. Unlike last time, he wanted to explore more of Mommy's Work, and didn't really want to just hold still and watch Wallace & Gromit shorts for two hours. I managed to keep him somewhat under control so I could get a few things done (especially good since the CIO's office is right next to where I'm working right now, and he came in while I was there). But I could tell things would get ugly so just after 4:30 we cleared out and headed to Costco.

I was washing the coffeepot while the kids examined their Costco pizza when Danny started projectile vomiting all over the kitchen. It started normally enough -- a funny-sounding cough that alerted me to snag the wastebasket and scream for DH -- but escalated until all we could do was stare in horrible amazment that such a copious amount of vile sludge could come out of such a little guy. DH plunked Danny up and brought him to the bathroom to strip him down and bathe him. I told Jacob he could take his dinner into another room.

A few minutes later, DH called to me that Danny didn't look good. He had striae of red across his neck and face, and was wheezing a bit. So I bundled him up and took him to the ER. We had to wait for a while because a rush of people had apparently beat us to the punch, but everyone was really nice. Danny was in a pretty good mood for someone who'd thrown up so damned much. I asked him every five minutes if his throat felt itchy. All he wanted was a drink, but the nurse said we couldn't give him anything until the doc okayed it.

There is a big aquarium at the Evanston ER, with the biggest black angelfish I've ever seen. I had a little MagnaDoodle with me for Danny, who demanded I draw the Big Giant Fish for him. He then erased each effort and told me to make it BIGGER! When I pointed out how I couldn't make the drawing bigger than the MagnaDoodle, he changed tactics and commanded that I write "the numbers" for Big Giant Fish. So I wrote
   BIG
    & nbsp;  GIANT
    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   FISH
on the MagnaDoodle. He took it carefully from me and held it up to the aquarium "This is you," Danny said to the fish. "This your name!"

After I drew "LOTS OF LITTLE FISH" for Danny a few times, a nurse finally called his name and brought us back to what would be his cubicle for the next few hours. She and I got Danny settled into the hospital bed in his little-kid johnny with his no-sew Cubs blanket over his legs. Then she put a very cool monitor on his finger that was like a band-aid with a red light on it. The lead went to the vital signs monitor -- so he didn't have to be IV'd or anything, which pleased me enormously.

The doc came in and examined Danny, listening to him breathe and checking his hives. He prescribed Benadryl and Prednisone, followed by popsicles, and watching him for a while to make sure he didn't have a recurrence. Apparently, the fact that I'd given Danny Benadryl at like 3:30 for his allergy-sounding cough had really helped to keep this reaction fairly low-key.

Danny hated the medicine but handled it pretty well, and accepted his grape popsicle joyously. "It's black!" he said to me, and began slurping it.

"Is it yummy?" I asked.

"Mmmm," he said. "Juicy!"

After a while, he sat peacefully with one hand clutching my arm and the other holding his popsicle. He insisted on sharing a little with me until I got him to finally keep it for himself. When he finished, I mopped him up with damp paper towels. He leaned back on the raised bed and said "Mommy?"

"Yes, Puppy?"

"Thith bed is comfy."

To keep him occupied, I did "Monkeys Jumping On The Bed" on command as well as a rousing round of "Ma Na Ma Na." Around 9:30, we were released from the hospital with a scrip for Prednisone and instructions to bring him back if yada yada yada. I brought him home and plopped him into bed with me & DH, where he sucked on a few freezy pops before passing out on my chest.

The fun continued on Sunday morning, when I dragged an unwilling Jacob with me to see the allergist myself. I've never really gotten tested, so I did the whole thing -- 40 dots of commen allergens on my forearms, and another 12 of common food allergens on my upper arm. Even before the histamine control could develop, sample #1 turned bright red and swelled, splashing nasty itchy red flush across my arm. What was Sample #1, you ask? Cats. Yep. I'm allergic to my cats -- who sleep not only on my bed but often in my hair and on my chest. (I'm also allergic to dust, dust mites, trees and weeds.) Jacob was horrified, thinking we would immediately go home and throw the cats out. I promised him that was definitely not in my plan; I've lived with these cats for 10 years and I'm not going to stop now. I was given samples of Nasonex, Singulair, and some evil eyedrops that felt like boric acid.

I further tortured Jacob by shlepping him through Target before we headed home, where Danny was giving DH a hard time. I put on the new Wallace & Grommit movie (Curse of the Were-Rabbit!!), which Danny then insisted on watching three times in a row (while DH and Jacob watched the Cubs game in the bedroom). At one point, I actually fell asleep with Danny sitting on my ribcage. And was glad to do so. Can you blame me?