I was blessed with the opportunity to speak at a conference this past weekend, and upon my return, The Husband had to set out for the start of his back to back travel schedule.
I figured, no big deal, right? We've been home all summer. It has been relatively quiet. Three weeks. We can handle it.
Monday was fine. In fact, it was so uneventful, I don't even remember it. I know we spent some time at my parents so I could get in a treadmill run, but the kids oddly calm and seemed happy to be in the same room as I was working out.
Tuesday our oldest had her 5 year checkup. I promised them a trip to the bounce house if they behaved, which they did (with a lot of threatening and bribery) and off to the bounce house we went. They were all really good there, so I thought I'd push my luck a little and try to get in another treadmill run. This one was cut short at 2 miles because they started asking for D'Daddy's jelly beans that were sitting on the end table. Rather than explain the severity of touching his things without asking, we quickly exited the house.
PS: The checkup went fine. Mini-Me was officially diagnosed with Inattentive ADD (shocker) and likely needs glasses (double shocker). And when I say shocker, what I really mean is that genetics can be a bitch and Mini-Me got more than her fair share of my genetic makeup.
Wednesday was my workout "day off". I'm not used to my parents' treadmill, so I guess my form was a little off. Long story short, I pulled a booty muscle and had a hitch in my getalong all day. We diligently ran errands, taking recycle, dropping off laundry, etc. and returned to the house relatively unscathed. I was feeling so bold in fact that we invited my friend and HER three kids over to play. She's super laid back and I'm a natural ball of stress so between the two of us the six kids stay safe and manage to have fun at the same time. We waved goodbye at 3:30, had dinner by 5, and everyone was in bed by 6:30.
However, by 10:00 pm the hitch was full on stitch and I was in some serious pain. Enter Mohawk Monster screaming that the washing machine was banging. Incidentally, it was not and I jumped off the couch fearing a ghost or intruder. Yes, I have a tendency to overreact. However, when I tucked him back in bed I discovered that his forehead was burning up.
A burning up forehead on this kid is not a good sign. When he goes down, he goes down HARD.
A quick temp-check revealed a scalding 104 fever. I gave him motrin, swept him into my bed, and woke up every 3 hours to alternate the tylenol and motrin to keep the fever at bay even though it never fully went away. He had some seriously crazy dreams and by 5:30 was wide awake and completely miserable.
Fast forward to the afternoon because this is where it gets good. By 3:30 his fever had not gone down and off to the doctor we went. I bribed them with chick-fil-a to behave and we were given the diagnosis of an unknown viral fever. Awesome. I would have preferred something treatable with an antibiotic to be honest.
At this point, my nerves are pretty shot. Two doctor's visits in three days and a sick kid with two others surely in line to get it next. I run upstairs to get towels and all. hell. breaks. loose.
Picture it: Lil-bit (who was recently potty trained) decided to take the 2.5 seconds it took me to run upstairs to poop in her underwear. Mohawk monster is SCREAMING that "LIL POOPED" while Mini-Me is wandering around clearly having forgotten that I asked her to get ready for her shower. Someone - who has yet to be identified, had just gone to the bathroom because the toilet was running...
What happened next is a blur of curse words, toilet water, and Not-So-Little-Lil-Bit-Poos. Somehow, the toilet started to overflow. Lil-bit is still ass-in-the-air while I'm trying to clean up her mess and Mini-Me is streaking through the hallway. Mohawk Monster is standing in the doorway, shaking and shivering from his fever.
I'm just staring at the toilet as if it's going to unclog itself. I heard myself screaming for towels, but no one was moving. I think I went into auto-pilot because somehow the toilet stopped and things were relatively under control. I managed to get the bathroom completely cleaned - all I could think about was all of us getting e-coli - and everyone was showered and tucked into bed.
A facebook post by a friend revealed that it's a full moon. Thank GOD because I thought I was just losing my mind.
Tomorrow I am planning for us to all just sit in one place and not move until The Husband gets home. If the week continues on this quick downward spiral, he will be lucky to come home to a standing house and a sane wife.
Love, hugs, and blessings,
The Mama
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