What A Week. Or Two.

Dear Diary, 

     My apologies for my lack of presence as of late. Let me briefly explain why I was gone. 

Nov. 16- My grandmother passed away. 
Nov. 16- My husband's big birthday bash happened. 
Nov. 17- Was alone with the kids while my husband cashed in on his birthday present, which included flying an airplane by himself after instruction from a pilot. (Awesome, I know.) 
Nov. 18th- Gave a ten minute speech/talk/sermon (for whichever religion you are) at my church, it was also my brother's birthday. 
Nov. 19th- Drove 2.5 hours to Snowflake, AZ to begin our funeral/Thanksgiving journey. Our journey began at 6 PM. 
Nov. 20th- Woke up and headed the rest of the way to Albuquerque, NM (4 hours). Spent time with family and ran errands to prepare for the funeral. 
Nov. 21st- Day of the funeral and also my husband's OFFICIAL birthday. We also drove the 4 hours to El Paso, TX to spend the holidays with family. 

***So, just to be sure- did you catch that? At this point, we have traveled 10.5 hours, been in 3 states in 3 days and are about to sleep in the 4th different house for the 4th night in a row. Let's proceed. By the way, we have 2 kids.***

Nov. 21st- We arrive in TX, get the kids ready for bed and get ready to go to a movie to salvage what was left of my hubby's birthday. My 2 year old is hardly breathing and his heart is about to beat out of its chest. He had been feeling under the weather, so we run him to the Urgent Care. They don't take our insurance. We run him to the ER. The waiting room is pretty full. Finally, they check him (and others)with a stethoscope and decide he is first priority so they send him to triage. He is put on oxygen and we find out that no air was circulating through his lungs, thus the reason he is taking such short breaths. It is now 8:30 PM. 

9:00 PM- He begins the first of three albuterol treatments to open up his lungs. 

9:30 PM- Round 2 of albuterol, more oxygen. And coloring books.

10:00 PM- Administration of an oral steroid. 

10:30 PM- Chest X-Ray. 

11:00 PM- Round 3 of albuterol. 

Midnight- Oxygen saturation monitoring to see if we can go home. 

1:30 AM- Discharged with an inhaler chamber and prescriptions for 2 medications. 

1:55 AM- Pick up the medicines from Walgreens and hit up Jack in the Box for some late night chicken nuggets and fries.

2:30 AM- Finally go to bed. 

Nov. 22nd- My little man is up at 6:30, even though he went to bed 4 hours ago. My daughter eats something that didn't sit well and has a bloody/blistery diaper rash accompanied with poop water (delicious) and midnight screams that everyone greatly appreciated. Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving. 

Nov. 25th- We brave the 6 hour journey back to AZ. My husband decides we should stop and chat with family in Tucson, although we have 2 tired/cranky children. Visiting was a blast, but our baby cried the rest of the 2 hours home. I'm talking, BLOODY SCREAMS, people. 2 hours worth. Should I repeat that? 

Nov. 26th- Son has appointment with the ENT because of a possible infection. ENT orders him a CT Scan of the Sinuses and blood work to check for Valley Fever. 

Nov. 27th- Son has CT Scan and results are that he has a sinus infection and needs antibiotics and steroids. 

Nov. 29th- Son has blood work done, no results yet on the Valley Fever. Ran to the grocery store pharmacy to pick up his medications.

Nov. 30th- (TODAY!) Daughter has appointment with pediatrician. Both kids had the flu shot. Yesterday and today resulted in a lot of tears. 

Forgive me for not blogging these past 14 days...we've been a bit busy. Thanks for still reading!

Sincerely, 

Me. The Not-So Wimpy Mom Anymore. 

The Sounds of Motherhood.

Dear Diary, 

     Tonight, my toddler had his baby sister pinned down as he was tickling her stomach and they were both laughing so hard. It was music to my ears, sending a smile across my face. And then I realized something. I realized that even though the sound of double laughter is indeed music to my ears, the sound of double crying is as if someone took that super pointy paring knife that Cutco makes (you know the one...) and just SLICED my ear drum right open. In other words...it is death to my ears. Will there ever be a medium? Will. There. Ever. Be. A. Dang. Medium. That is the double question of the day. 

Sincerely, 

Me. 

Now I Know.

Dear Diary, 

     Every week, it's the same thing. Mondays stink, Mondays are the worst, Monday-Monday-Stupid-Monday. I always thought it was just some self-fulfilling prophecy from the pessimistic peeps of America, because hey- remember last Tuesday? When I knocked myself out? Yeah, that was not a Monday. I have had plenty of bad days, my friends. And my bad days don't discriminate. It's like Russian Roulette with bad days around this joint. 

     But today, I discovered the horrible beauty of Mondays being less than stellar. There really is something about kicking off the week with a string of negative events. You kind of pretty much feel like a failure at life. 

     My morning began with mealworms. Yes, these babies. All over my kitchen floor. Like a mealworm apocalyptic invasion. 

I saw one, then two. Thirty three mealworms later, all scooped up into my dustpan and about a million more in my kitchen trashcan, I hauled balls to clean up shop. I'm talkin dumping the kitchen trash into the big trash bin outside, sweeping the kitchen, power spraying out the plastic kitchen trash can, vacuuming, the whole kit and caboodle. 

     Phase two of my bad day was gathering up groceries with two kids in the cart that has an attachment that looks like a car (you know the kind...you feel like you're driving a Greyhound bus down the skinny aisles)only to realize at the checkout counter that your wallet is indeed at home. Just where you left it. Sadly enough, my freak-tastic photographic memory where I know all 16 digits, the expiration date and the security code on the back make no difference whatsoever and I was monetarily imprisoned by my forgetfulness. 

     Phase three included feeding a child who would rather have nothing to do with food (like, EVER) and it takes 45 minutes to eat a sandwich. He also likes to slam doors in the house and crush his baby sister's hand underneath it when I turn my back for 5 seconds. Somebody got some major spankings today. 

     Phase four was being asked to speak in church. In 6 days. Which, to be honest, wasn't that bad. I had a lot of good in my day today, too. Like kissing up my babies' cheeks (my kids have the kissiest skin you've ever kissed), having my hubby home for lunch, and Skype-ing with my brother and his girlfriend. Oh, and did I mention I took a 2 hour nap? Holla for a dolla, my friends. Today was not so bad. 

Sincerely, 

Me. Just another manic Monday. 

I'm Pregnant.

Dear Diary, 

     I'm pregnant. With twins. TWIN DOUGHNUTS. This would be the cutest 3 month pregnant belly, though. If I wasn't 9 months post-partum. Time to hit the gym and lay off the ice cream. 

Sincerely, 

Me. 

(Proof of my doughnut twins.)

Kids with Markers. Not Your Best Idea.

Dear Diary, 

     I am happy to say that the kids pictured above are NOT my children. I think I'd go into cardiac arrest and die. 

     Lately, my son has decided that my daughter is fun. This is EXCELLENT for me, because they actually play together instead of my toddler pulling on my t-shirt bottom, begging me to play with him while my daughter whines and cries, searching the house for me as if I have left her high and dry in the Sahara Desert to roam aimlessly until further notice. 

     My little guy will throw a blanket over my daughter's head while she sits there and flaps her arms and gasps for air (I'm not sure why she does that...). Then he'll RIP the blanket off and they both start cracking up. That is much more fun than giving a toddler a marker. It's just not the best idea in the world. Needless to say, my markers are hidden as well as my knives are. 

Sincerely, 

Me. 

Something Different.

Hey guys. Thanks for reading my blog so faithfully. I love you guys! Today I am doing something I haven't done on this blog before. I'm referring you to my OTHER blog without any real entry on this one. Please read this and share it with your friends! Thank you. Read Post Here.

Sincerely, 

Me. 

The Future of Moms.

Dear Diary, 

     I think it is safe to say that I, along with 99% of other mothers, will fall into this category in the coming years. Heaven help us all. 

Sincerely, 

Me. 

It Was a Knock-Out!

Dear Diary, 

     I knocked myself out today. Out cold. My screen of life went black. But instead of shutting down completely, my human computer just restarted itself. The color came back and surprisingly, the only words that came out of my mouth were, "Oh, shoot." And while holding my head, trying to get my bearings, my eyebrows shot up in surprise that I didn't blurt out something worse. (Especially considering I felt like this guy...)

     The story goes as follows. I decided to buck up and clean my car. (My first mistake. I knew cleaning was bad for you.)If you have kids, you know how daunting of a task this is. Smashed Cheeto's, books, binkies, finger-printed windows, stickers everywhere, wrappers, diapers, wipes, and all other kid-related items scattered throughout the vehicle. All the doors were open, including the back door when I was cleaning out my son's side of the car. While walking around to the other side, I walked full-force into the back door (I'm usually short enough to make clearance. Not this time). The corner tip of the door, which ran perpendicular to my body, scraped the top of my head and knocked me out. All went black and I doubled over. All I can say is, good thing it's Tuesday instead of Monday. Or is it. 

Sincerely, 

Me. 

Killer Move.

Dear Diary, 

     It appears I've moved at just the right time. A month or so ago, my next door neighbor in our condo complex was a victim of attempted murder by her drunk boyfriend. He was a winner. I tell ya, there is nothing quite like coming home from a date with your husband and being welcomed by 3 cop cars, a CSI van, concerned neighbors, and suspicious police officers trying to interrogate you. 

     Fast forward a few weeks and there is a triple shooting- one man dead, two hospitalized...in the OTHER condo complex to the right of us. Our location was killer. 

     But our new house? It's even MORE killer...in a good way. We have a mailbox. We are real people now. And we have carpet. Which means no more lazy diaper changes on the floor of any room. And we have bills. Soooo many bills. But we are happy, happy, happy! 

     Welcome home, us. Welcome home. 

Sincerely, 

Me. 

P.S. A picture of a different "Shooter". Just to end your night right. 

The Silent Treatment.

Dear Diary, 

     My recent move from condo to house has made for a rather ghost-like blog. And lately, I can relate to this ecard above. But I have to say, there are many incredible posts that await you, so keep reading. 

Sincerely, 

Me.