Bleak Week

It's been one of those weeks. FYI, I've started and stopped writing this five or six times. Over five or six days. It's not like I'm not trying, Mom! ; ) I just can't get these children to get—and stay—well.

JVL departed for CA at zero dark thirty on Monday morning. Happily, Mom offered to come spend a couple days so I could go into the office for a few half days and not get too behind. This worked beautifully on Monday: she took the kids to school while I could feed and put Emma down at leisure, without stuffing her in the cold car to scream, then I went to work and picked the kids up on my way home. It was awesome, but I wasn't feeling so hot. My ear was filled with pressure and I had trouble sleeping. Tuesday, I worked from home, again turning over most driving duties to Mom — oh, to have a real chauffeur! I went to the doctor, who confirmed the presence of way too much fluid in my right ear, which happily was not yet infected (as it had been a few weeks ago.) "You need to get to an ENT. You really don't drain well," she told me solemnly. Yep, another thing I suck at. She gave me a steroid thingie to help shrink my whatever was blocking the snot, and I figured it'd work out in a day or two. The girls, though, seemed suspiciously sniffly. That night, my ear was throbbing and I finally fell asleep at about midnight. At 12:30, Cordelia stumbled in, sobbing: "MOMMY MY EAR HURTS!" She was burning hot. You all know how this story ends. She spent the rest of the night starfished to me in my bed, quivering and whimpering in pain despite the Motrin. At 5, Emma woke up, so I hurriedly fed her and tried to get her back to sleep. She screamed til 6:30. Cody came in then (he's not allowed to exit his room until the little clock starts glowing green — for "Go!:). I got Cordelia to her feet so we could all go get dressed and get ready for school/pediatrician. Cordelia stopped, glassy-eyed, and then projectile vomited onto the carpet.

I took a deep breath. Cody, because he is amazing in such moments, tore down the stairs into the garage and came upstairs shouting, "MOM! I got some club soda from the garage so you can clean up all the throw-up!" (It was actually a bottle of spring water, but it's the thought that counts.)

This scenario repeated a few times. Mom stayed with Emma and we took Cora to the pediatrician the second they opened, where Dr. Caplan murmured, over her screams of pain, "She really doesn't drain well." You're welcome, Cora.

Anyway. The conversation about ear tubes is "on the table" depending on how she clears this time around. It was kind of a scary day; she was pale and basically just cried quietly all day. I was so, so thankful to have Mom there (she extended her visit once she saw the chaos and puke). She manned the minivan so I could focus 100% on the girls…because Emma has been down and out for over a week, too.

Hmm.  I paused in my writing the day before last, and don't really remember where I was going with all this. There was a funny story in there somewhere, though. I think.

Oh! I remember. Once the dust had settled, I sat down with Cody to thank him for being such a trooper and showing such concern and helpfulness. He said thoughtfully, "Mom? Do you know what I was thinking when Cordelia was throwing up on the rug?"

I thought we were about to have a moment. He continued, "Well, after she threw up and you were cleaning her in the shower, I was just looking at the throw up there on the rug and do you know what? It reminded me of something. A map! She threw up IN THE SHAPE OF SOUTH AMERICA! Don't you think that's amazing?"

I did indeed. You can't make it up. He then proceeded to tell me all the countries in South America: "There's Suriname, and Guyana, and French Guyana, Equador, Colombia, Guatemala, Nicaragua, Venezuela, Chile, Argentina, Brazil, Uruguay, Paraguay, Peru, and Bolivia."

I checked Wikipedia, because I was unsure of the above. He was right. He even did it in a full-on Spanish accent.

A couple of days ago, we popped into the Giant together to pick up some groceries. As we passed the heart-shaped cookies and red-iced cakes in the bakery, he said, "Well, Mom, Valentine's Day is the next big holiday. Did you know February has a silent 'r'?" I confirmed. Then I said, "I get older every time Valentine's Day comes around." He threw his head back, giggled, and then said knowingly, "Oh, Mom. You're silly. Actually, you get older every second."

Truer words have never been spoken. : )

I can't think of anything more at the moment, and can't find my external drive with recent pictures, so this'll have to do. More soon, Mom. :)