I have a new found respect for Phoebe after having a nagging, respiratory, bronchitis-like cough for the last 2 weeks. It’s wearing on my nerves, and makes me tired and grumpy.  Phoebe spent the first 2 years of her young life on a nebulizer, oral steroids, decongestants, etc. etc.  She even had RSV at eleven months old and spent the night in the hospital. (With me right next to her bed)  This child never cried or got cranky…she was just Phoebe.  Happiest baby ever.  Of course, when she had a temp she was slightly more lethargic, but she always had a smile on her face.  Do I??  Um…let’s just say that’s a big NO.  I spent countless nights in her room, standing over her crib, counting the number of breaths she took.  Do I give a treatment or don’t I?  She couldn’t talk for herself.  She couldn’t say…”Hey mom! I am having a hard time breathing..can you get me some meds?”   So, I was “ON GUARD” 24 hours a day,  7 days a week.   I am not exaggerating when I say when we would be with someone with a sniffle, Phoebe would have it within a week, and be on breathing treatments the next day.  She was a mess!  Ok, fine…I WAS A MESS.  She was just, Phoebe.  Happy, little Phoebe.

Finally, she saw an allergist and was put on a more daily med, and did eventually grow out of it.  She was around 3-years-old.  

At 3-years-old, we started to see more delays than ever.  This is when the autism/ADHD, whatever-you-call-it diagnosis started.  (And, I found out I was pregnant with Brendan)

Looking back, this hasn’t been an easy ride for you Phoebe…and I give you a ton of credit for how far you have come.  Hopefully, you won’t get this nasty cold mom has.

(So, stop drinking out of my glass of water would you!?)