Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Double the puking double the fun

Gavin's asthma flared up again and I have to laugh at how far I have come.  Here's the scenario....
Gavin caught a cold.  With this his asthma kicked in and we were up most of Friday night and all Saturday night (okay, so we got approximately 4 hours of interrupted sleep, but it felt like all night, between the nebulizing, the showers and the coughing until puking).  Finally, I called the oncall specialist and got the dosage of Prednisone to give him.  I probably should have called sooner, but we are pumping so much into his system anyway, I just hate to throw a huge steroid on top of it.  But, realistically, the kid needs to breath a this really does help quickly.  So...three tsp. of Prednisone, which taste HORRIBLE.  He spits half of it into his apple juice and Shawn makes him drink it down.  This is about an hour before bedtime and well, he is just zipping ready to go with all that in him.  So of course, he stays up later than normal.  (Meanwhile, Shawn and I are on our faces).
Finally...sleep, blessed sleep...
11pm Amanda wakes up crying (this never happens)
12 am Amanda wakes up crying (this really never happens)
1 am Amanda is crying (what the heck!?)

Morning finally rolls around.  I'm tired.  They are tired.  Gavin needs
 more Prednisone. I set them up with breakfast and get the tsp full of medicine.  Gavin gets up from the table and runs away.  I literally chase him down, while he's screaming.  Truly, I don't blame the kid, but in the end...a boy's gotta breathe.  I pin him down and put it in his mouth.  I could tell he was gonna spit it out (the kid holds it in his mouth, which only makes it worse).  I tell him he has to swallow or we do it all again...then quickly provide him with some apple juice and two candy corns (my kids LOVE those...I figured they would be a treat).  He eats them, still crying.  Then the coughing starts.  He coughs so hard he gags, then he turns...looking me straight in the eye and pukes it all over the floor.  From the corner of the room, Brayden looks over and yells, "Make him stop!" and starts to cover his mouth.
"Gavin," I say with a sigh.  He looks at me again, takes a step back and pukes again.
"Ahhh," I hear Bray as he begins to sympathy puke.
"Eww, gucky" Apprently Amanda needed to chime in her two cents.
Much to my credit, at this point I am actually finding this humorous.  Waste of some good candy corn.
I tell Bray to remove his pajamas and leave the kitchen until it's cleaned up (seeing as he's still gagging with his hand over his mouth and intermittently yelling "Moooom, get it gone!" I figure it's best he be removed from the situation.)  That kid never obeyed and got dressed so fast.  That part was a true highlight of the morning. 
Gavin changed his clothes, Mandy happily ate her breakfast and I proceeded to clean up the puke.  I hadn't even had my coffee yet.  At this point I was considering just filling the sink up with it and dunking my head in. 
I can say the rest the day went smoother...if you consider Preschool drop offs and pick ups where my kids are informing everyone they puked that morning, Dr. appointments with crazy two year olds and a hundred dollars worth of steroids and medications smooth.  In light of the fact that my son got a new med that did not instigate a wrestling match or puking, stopped coughing to the point of gagging, proceeded to sleep through the night and could inhale properly, I have officially decided...smooth enough for me.
This was all done by 11:30 am.  I used to think I got a lot accomplished in a day.  But then I didn't use to be a mom.  If you looked at the house, my car or my hair for that matter, you'd wondered what in the world I had done all morning. But in the end, crazy hair and all, I felt accomplished.  We had lunch, I put all the kids down and I was so thankful for the opportunity to be these kid's mom.  To laugh at the puke, to get excited over a new medicine that "tastes great" and to walk over the mess that is all over the house, to tuck their tired little heads into bed. 
Don't get me wrong, some days that go like this, I want to run screaming from the house.  But on this one, I was just thankful that God gave me the opportunity to be the mom who takes care of them.

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Looking down

Yesterday I went to lift Amanda up and I looked down at her on my hip.  Her legs were dangling and I was shocked at how long they were.  My little's legs were not little. 
These are strange moments for me.  I go day in and out watching my kids and then out of nowhere something will trigger a great moment of melancholy.  My heart will tighten and I'll realize that a season has passed...one I can't get back. 
It's the weirdest thing to me what triggers these moments
-Watching my son remove his socks and remembering when he used to put them on his hands a two year old and play "Wab wabbit" sock puppets in the car...when did that stop?
-Hearing Gavin say "Helicopter" as he points to the sky and realizing that it's no longer a "helehopter"
-Watching a backpack go over my kids shoulders
-Seeing my daughter put on her own shoes
-Watching Bray take his dishes to the sink and go wash his hands, without being asked to 4 or 5 times
-Seeing the kids all reading together on the couch
-Picking up a stuffy at night time, realizing that my big guy didn't need it to go to bed
-Looking down to realize the legs dangling off my hip are no longer baby legs

They are just small moments, but they seem to hold so much in them.  It is a sweet ache I get, but an ache none the less.  I love watching my kids grow, but I also feel a desperation to have some days back.  Of course, I can't.  I can only move ahead.  And so I do, but maybe at a little bit of a slower pace.  Hoping to take it all in...knowing someday, if they take after their dad, I probably won't be looking down at all!

Friday, October 5, 2012


It's that time of year again.  The leaves are turning.  The air is crisp.  The dew falls in the morning and the sun has been greeting us to shine it's light on this beautiful scene.  Oh and my kid's coat sleeves are covered with slug like trails, along with my pant leg at knee hight and usually my left shoulder. And let's not forget the beautiful sight and feel of my pockets and countertops that are littered with crinkled, soggy kleenex full of yellow snot. 
That's right folks...it's dripping out of all three little noses (fortunately, I already kicked this cold) and it's like a big ol' snot party over here.  I am not sure when I became accostumed to the yellow stuff, but I realized today, as I wiped a nose with my bare hand without flinching, that something was off.  When did that become normal
I supposes it falls into the long list of things that become normal.  Cheering when someone does a great poop. Considering three crusts and the left over apple slice lunch.  Statements like, "No your stuffed animals don't need suntan lotion" and "Would you please put the ranch dressing back, we don't need it in your backpack to go camping."  All these seem slightly abnormal standing alone, but in the average day, you are bound to cross something that previously would have made you pause, if not do a complete double take.  But no longer.  Now, wiping snot on my hand or pant leg (if necessary mind you) is normal. 
I suppose that's parenting all around.  Finding out that normal isn't really what you once thought it was.  Frankly, I decided today, that if I ever met a parent who was what I used to consider "normal", I'd probably think they are weird.  But then again, I'd be the lady with the trail of snot on my shoulder...who am I to judge.

Monday, October 1, 2012


I needed to grocery shop...in a bad way.  We had ketchup, a drop of milk and some carrot sticks.  While there are starving children in Africa who would apprciate this, I am afraid my family doesn't.  We'll work on that another day. 
I went to trader joes friday and told Shawn that the grocery store and Costco were my mission for Saturday.  The day got full with various things (good things, family things) and Shawn graciously told me to head out to grocery shop by myself, because he had to leave get our friends at the airport and he knew I wanted it done.  I turned as I left and said, "Hey, could you pull the laundry out of the drier and hang up the iron free clothes."  Shawn..."I'll try to remember."
Two and a half hours later, I had trudged through aisles, bagged my groceries, arranged and rearranged my costco cart to fit the toilet paper and paper towels around the various other items that were coming home.  I was pooped. I call to say I'm on my way home. Shawn informs me the kids haven't eaten. I tell him there's hotdogs in the fridge and head out.
I pull into the driveway and ask the boys to come help unload.  I look at them not moving, see their tired eyes and know I should probably let this battle alone, but in my own exhaustion, take it on anyway..."Boys, come help mommy."
"But I'm playing."
"I don't want to."
"Boys, COME!"
Trudge trudge trudge.
They actually perked up a bit and even amanda chipped in with a "haaavy" as she drug an oversized bag to the kitchen. 
I threw all the pantry items in the pantry in one big stack (there is still a ladder blocking the entery, from two weeks ago.  Shawn has a project to finish in the attic...that's a different blog).  I didn't have time to unpack all these before Shawn took off and he and the boys needed to shower before he left...my goal was get the kids to bed.  I was making rootbeer floats to get the rootbeer and ice cream out of the refrigerator, when Brayden asks..."Are we having floats for dinner?" 
ME:  "Uhhh...didn't you eat hot dogs?"
Shawn:  "No, we didn't get to it, I was giving Amanda a bath, she peed her pants."
Inward groan.  I totally would have splashed some water on the kid and called it good, but I am sure having a clean body is more important than my burning desire to have the kids in bed.  "Okay, you shower, I'll make dinner.  Did you by chance do the laundry?" 
Shawn:  "I hung up the two wrinkle free items."
Me:  "What about the rest of the clothes?"
Shawn:  "Nope."
Me:  "So looking into the drier, it didn't occur to you to fold the rest?"
Shawn:  "No, I was playing with the kids."
Me:  "Huh.  For future reference, feel free to do the rest."
Shawn:  "Well, you did get to go to the grocery store without the kids."
Me, turning on the snarky attitude as I mentally picture all the groceries I still have to unpack, the laundry I get to fold, the dinner that has yet to get made and the shower I want to take, since I am now the only household member who hasn't showered today (well in two days really) :  "Yeah, well, I guess that's what I have to look forward to for good times, two hours of grocery shopping on a Saturday night without kids.  I LOVE Costco lines!  I'm SO lucky!"
Shawn:  wisely remains silent.

I have to laugh a little.  I say "Hot dogs are in the fridge" and assume they will get fed to the children.  I never mention feeding, I never say to microwave them, I never actually asked Shawn to take care of it.  I ask him to "hang up the wrinkle free clothes in the dryer" and assume the rest the laundry will get done.  I never ask him to fold it, ask him to put it away, tell him I would appreciate the help. 
Specifics.  I have found I need to be more specific.  If I want something done, hinting at it and hoping that I have the husband who will read my mind and meet my every need is just asking for marital counseling.  Going on ten years now, I think it's about time I figure this out. 
My husband plays with the kids, cleans them up when they pee all over themselves and the floor, and does his best to make my job easier (cuz whether or not it makes for a great Sat. night activity, it is a lot easier to do Costco without three kids). I would love to say that he's the insensitive one. Oh he has his moments, but I actually think, this one is on me.  My need to have things done my way, in my time and through a great deal of mind reading.  He on the other hand, had his priorities straight...our kids first. 
And so, I am going to learn to be more specific.  Ask for what I need.  I am also going to learn to be grateful for what I get...even if it wasn't what I had planned on.  Cuz, it actually turned out to be a great night of rootbeer floats and rearranging the pantry all by myself with the kids in bed (for those that know me, this is actually a good thing, cuz I love to organize things).  Oh and I also got a shower.  Not too bad.