Save the Poison Control Center!

So, school is out for summer. We had a rather uneventful week, to my great relief. It was nice to have a week to unwind from the crecendo of preformances, tests, school parties, etc. We got onto a sort-of summer schedule, and it is was actually sunny a better part of each day (It has been a record-breaking streak of rainy days here in NJ lately).
Part of this schedule includes a chore schedule for the kids. No more free passes for them. What is the point of having kids if they can't help out a little, right? For the most part it has been great--laundry is actually getting done, the bathroom downstairs is presentable most of the time, and the dishes have even been completely done at some point during each day. All of this comes with its own price of course. Clothes are not folded like I'd like, Paris sprays every room he cleans with copious amounts of Lysol spray, and then there was the the dishwasher incident. Can you believe it happened again? Yes, another one of my children, which shall remain nameless (TRITAN), used dishwashing soap in the dishwasher instead of dishwasher detergent. I was in the middle of trying to cook dinner, when the bubbles started. This was day 3 of having the kids all day, and Brian, of course, was out of town this week. Let's just say I wasn't happy. But I swear, the thought of killing my kids never entered my mind.
However, later that night, that is just what I almost did.
It was finally 9pm and I could legally put the kids to bed. Dinner had been later than usual (gee, I wonder why) and the kitchen was still a mess (though the floors were again spotless). After prayers, it was vitamin and Zyrtec time. I couldn't find the Zyrtec dosing cup (though I didn't look all that hard--I was tired and wanted to send the kids to bed as quickly as possible), so I pulled out my measuring spoons and doled out the allergy juice.
Fast forward to midnight. After catching up on So You Think You Can Dance (I have to rewind and watch each dance at least twice before I can responsibly vote for my favorite dancers), I cleaned up the kitchen, and then fell into bed. I was exhausted but suddenly I was wide awake. In my mind, I could see the measuring spoons I had just cleaned up and it suddenly hit me that I had given Tritan and Athena 2 Tablespoons of Zyrtec, not 2 teaspoons. I ran into their rooms and checked to see that they were still breathing. Relieved that they were not dead already, I raced downstairs to check the bottle. Maybe, just maybe, it called for tablespoons? Crap. Nope--teapoons, and a warning to call poison control center right away if over dosed. I took a deep breath, and I'll admit, tried to rationalize not calling. No one likes admitting to poisoning their own children. They were alive, Tritan had even woken up (rather startled) when I bent over him to make sure he was still breathing. But I called, and May at the Poison Control Center was very nice. She did ask me 3 times if I had given them the medicine or if they had gotten it themselves, seemingly amazed that a mother could be so distracted. But luckily, she thought they would be O.K., I just needed to wake them periodically throughout the night to be sure.
So I woke them before I went to bed (at 1am), then again at 4am, and again at 6:30. Luckily, they were fine and ironically Athena complained about her allergies the next day.
May from Poison Control Center called the next morning to make sure the kids were fine. I have to say I find this service so useful: I have had to call them more than once in my life. The kids have eaten Desitin (twice) and once I found Paris with an open bottle of kids vitamins. They have always been prompt, helpful, and non-judgemental. My sister said that CA is considering not continuing the PCC service and that if they don't several other states may follow suit. I hope not. Apparently I need them!!