I'm going to pretend for just a moment, that 1 or 2 of you are actually wondering why I haven't posted anything in a week....... (just let me live in my delusional reality for a bit, if you don't mind).
I feel this past week in my life bears to be written (ie. 'complained') about. And more importantly, justifies my increased consumption of wine.
It all began 1 week ago......my Aunt L came for a visit. Now, Aunt L, is my mother's sister. My mother passed away 3 years ago, so Aunt L has taken over position of mother/grandmother. And GOD BLESS HER for that! Truly. However, any outside visitors create a chaotic environment in my household. That's just how we roll in this house. "Little Man" tends to turn into a ......PSYCHOTIC LUNATIC....when his routine gets disrupted in any way (I'm not saying he gets this from me, but it's remotely possible).
During this same time, I was in communication with the Principal, Vice Principal, and Curriculum Director of Little Man's elementary school, in order to switch him from one Track to another Track (please refer to earlier posts about the school system here). My reasoning was to get him in a class with other children closer in age to him (he was the youngest and smallest in his kindergarten class), because I feel it will benefit him socially - now and in the future. I felt frantic about this situation, because school was due to start THIS Monday. I'm not usually a procrastinator, but I had a gut feeling about things, and I needed to act on them - FAST.
After some severe GI-stress-related issues, and 2 nights of insomnia, I am happy to say HE GOT SWITCHED. However, he's home for 3 more weeks.....not so sure I'm mentally prepared for that.
Anyway, during Aunt L's stay, "Baby Girl" developed a high fever (and by "high", I mean 105+). I gave her some ibuprofen, which she choked on, so I naturally assumed it was strep throat. After coordinating drop-off of my Little Man to VBS, I took Baby Girl to the pediatrician. She began twitching severely, looked up at me, her eyes rolled back, and she seized. Right there. In the doctor's office. In my arms.
I think I actually stopped breathing for a few minutes.
After the entire staff of receptionists and nurses came running out into the waiting area, she came to, and projectile vomited all over us. So, I spent the next 2 hours, covered in pink vomit, trying to figure out what was wrong with my child. Her fever was still 105. They gave her a Tylenol suppository, stuck her with needles & a urinary catheter. Cultures of all kinds were performed. Then they gave her a double dose of an antibiotic that is used to treat bacterial meningitis. Two injections. One in each thigh. It took me and 2 nurses to hold her down (this "fight" mentality will definitely be beneficial for her later in life).
I am strongly convinced I now suffer from PTSD.
Aside from an elevated white blood cell count, we still have no idea what was wrong. Thankfully, her fever came down after 24 hours.
A few days later, with oral antibiotics in tow, we ventured off to the beach, to stay with our dear friends and their 2 young boys. This trip had been planned for months, and we were intent on celebrating Little Man's 6th birthday.
All went great, and everyone had F.U.N.........
despite the 11pm bedtimes, and 6am wake up calls, the diarrhea caused by antibiotics.....
Oh, and Little Man pissing his pants during the fireworks show, saying "holy $hit" in front of everyone, and Baby Girl getting into the ant spray under the non-childproofed cupboards. (I've never claimed to be Mother of the Year, people).
Now, please excuse me while I go make myself a stiff drink.