Monday, November 04, 2013

Just for documentation sake. Or, "When it rains, it pours" or #murphys law

Let's start with last Monday, a week ago, shall we?
Elliott had school and Ross dad offered to pick Wyatt up from school.  That left me and the little one with a day to ourselves.  I was looking forward to it until we realized our dad forgot his lunch.  We took it to him.  Quinn fell asleep in the car and woke up when we got home.  That 20 minutes was his nap for the day.  The rest of the day was, "A-hem" evil.  Worst day ever being his mom.  Crying and screaming and all around bad news.  We barely made it through the day.

Tuesday:  Killed a black widow in the garage after taking Elliott to school.  Killed it with bee spray and a shovel.  Scared and itchy all day long.  (Still won't go in the basement).  Tuesday afternoon when I took Quinn upstairs to put him down for a nap, I changed his diaper, sat in the rocking chair and SPEW!  That little kid, without warning, puked all over me.  On my chin and neck.  Down my shirt and underwear.  All over my pants.  We both had to have a bath and I had puke smell in my nose all day long.  I guess he didn't feel well.

Wednesday:  LONG day, but relatively okay.  Church Halloween carnival at night.  No one was sick.

Thursday:  There were some really great things about Thursday (I already wrote about them on my Halloween post).  But there were some bad things too.  Mostly, I lost my mind and yelled and screamed, and threw away things that were driving me crazy and made my baby cry by my craziness and my big boys ran away.  Almost took a xanex.  Made tacos and cooked a frozen pizza for dinner.  No one ate.  The boys trick or treated and the day ended.

Friday:  Early in the morning, around 1:00 am, Elliott started waking up telling us he felt like he was going to throw up.  Two hours later he did, several times.  He greeted the day with diarrhea and I didn't feel so hot myself.  (He and I both ate tacos).  By about 11:30, I'd been sick all morning with the big D myself, and once I got Quinn to sleep, I crawled into bed and left Wyatt in charge.  Ross came home for a couple of hours while I rested.  He had to go back to work, and after tearful pleadings on my part, he called his dad and his dad sat with the boys while I continued to sleep and throw up, and until Ross came home from work.  The night was supposed to be a fun one, but we barely survived.

Saturday:  Our dad left us for Poland.  Some of us still didn't feel well.  It was a good but long day.  But, Quinn woke up FIVE TIMES in the night.  I only slept about 2 hours.  Not the best welcome to Daylight Savings.

Sunday:  The big boys were good and well behaved at church.  The little brother was a menace.  After three hours I thought I was going to voluntarily get hit by a car.  But, we made it to grandma's.  Two boys fell asleep on the way home.  I got some work done on my online class.  Quinn only woke up twice in the night, both times before midnight.

Monday:  This brings us to this morning.  At 6:00 am Quinn woke up.  As I was changing his diaper, I heard the all too familiar cough of Wyatt's coming from the room next door.  If I hadn't have been so tired I would have been thinking clearly and gotten him to the bathroom in time.  Instead, I  finished with Quinn, put him back in his bed and made it to Wyatt just as he finished throwing up in his bed.  Only, it wasn't vomit, it was just his usual bad lung/phlegm ball of death.  He gets them when the air gets bad and his inhaler cannot break up the goo well enough.  He finished up in the bathroom and I got his sheets off the bed just as Elliott bolted out of the darkness of his bedroom.  Into the bathroom.  His face and hands covered in blood.  He wakes up with bloody noses every once in a while and I guess this morning was one of those mornings.

All this happened in 15 minutes.

But, everything (knock on wood) seems okay now.

It cannot get much worse.  Right?  RIGHT?

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