Mr. Simon goes to the Hospital

Yesterday evening Simon broke out in a rash. It happened suddenly so I texted a picture to my brother-in-law.

Sidetrack- A few months ago I was having laptop issues and a different brother-in-law, Ben, rescued me from a computer disaster. I commented on facebook that everyone should be related to 1. a mechanic, 2. a doctor and 3. a computer guy. My sister Lori is a nurse in the ER and her husband, although not a Dr. yet, is in medical school and just finished a rotation in pediatrics. Super helpful, right? Although I think they might get sick of my phone calls whenever something is ailing one of my many children. (I know, I know, four isn't that many. But these regular trips to the ER make it seem like that many.) Unfortunately I'm not related to a mechanic. Yet...

Jess?
Back to the story- Lori called and after consulting with Sean concurred that it was probably an allergic reaction, give him Benadryl. They even supplied with me the correct dosage. Lori and I continued to chat when I noticed that Simon wasn't breathing so well. It looked like he was "retracting." (How's that for stellar medical vocabulary?) Lori suggested I take a short video of his breathing and send it to Sean. I did so. MAGIC! Just like that he could see exactly what I was seeing. Lori called me back and said take that baby to the hospital, STAT!

Sidetrack again- (How's this for building suspense?) I've never felt compelled to justify my iPhone. I shamelessy acknowledge that it is a luxury. That's not to say I haven't used it in many practical ways, but when I bought it I felt indulgent. But should I need justification, here it is: Being able to take a video to show to Sean instantly, and then have readily available to show to the Dr. in the ER and to my pediatrician the next day for follow up was so helpful. It was so much more effective in aiding in their diagnosis than any discription I could have given about his respiratory distress. Technology is amazing. Love it. I thought about posting the video here, but it's just too sad.

By the time we arrived in the ER the Benadryl must have been working because he was looking much better. His vitals were good but the Doc still ordered an epinephrine breathing treatment and an IV. We stayed for a few hours for observation. We saw the pediatrician today and worked out a plan to figure out what exactly the reaction was to. That could create some obstacles for his future diet, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.

I was exhausted and ravenous by the time I got home last night. At first I was so frustrated that I had to spend my evening in the ER. I've been so desperate lately to get into some kind of routine around here and get the housework done that the last thing I wanted was a medical emergency. But as Richard and I talked about it before bed we felt so relieved that he was okay. I count my blessings that my children don't have more serious health issues that would make occasional visits to the emergency room look like a walk in the park. And we've just accepted that never-ending pile of medical bills and just part of this life we chose.

Dirty Dash

Last year I signed up for the Dirty Dash alone. When I arrived I was totally depressed about running by myself. Fortunately I met up with someone I knew and ran with her and her friend. This year I had planned to join a team but made too many excuses and didn't get around to it. At the last minute a friend of mine said that if I put together a team of five we could register for free.

We had a really great time. If you're not familiar with the dirty dash you can watch this video. But it is a 10k course that includes climbing over hay bales, walls, through tunnels, over tires and other obstacles including the longest slip 'n' slide you've ever seen. And of course lots of mud.
I made the mistake of trying to tackle Topaz in the mud pit. I ended up falling backwards and completely submerging in mud. I had to lick and spit over and over just to get it off my teeth. There was a little boy nearby with a squirt gun, who at my request squirted most the mud out of my eyes. It has taken days to get it all out of my ears. I think next year I'll take care to protect my facial orofices.

Jaymie Topaz me Julaine Celeste

so long dear hairbrush

This event was so traumatic it took precedence over all other un-blogged events, including Cameron's first day of first grade.

Women & girls know the significance of a hairbrush. Hairbrushes become loyal companions that matter more than all other beauty products. If I go on vacation without it, it's almost enough to ruin the vacation because it automatically ensures bad hair days for the duration of the separation.

My hairbrush has dutifully served me these last 12+ years. Although it was falling apart I have refused to part with it. That was, until Miriam dropped it in the toilet. If it was still in it's youth I would desperately fight for a way to sterilize it. But given it's already pathetic state, I'm going to go ahead and call it a loss.

My only consolation is that it wasn't my iPhone she carelessly flung into the filthy waters of the porcelain throne. That is likely my only possession that would have been more painful to lose.

the little fry

Richard's dad is famous for making up little songs about his kids. Richard is following in his footsteps and sings all the time:

"Si, Si, the little fry, such an amazing little guy."

He's four months old. Four and a half months actually, I'm a bit behind. He's got a raspy little voice and rusty hair which has earned him various other nicknames.

My co-worker has one little boy and is thinking about having a second but has the same fear every parent has. Can I possibly love another baby as much as the baby I already have? For me the fear is more like this: Did I really love my other babies as much as I love my most recent baby?

He delights me and I know for sure because of recent experiences that I am more grateful each day to have him than I was with my other children. I don't take him for granted. Kind of ironic considering he wasn't "planned"...

the case of the missing underwear

I thought Miriam had gotten past her interest in her brother's underwear. I was wrong.

One night after doing laundry I directed Eli to put his clothes in his drawer. Included were at least 5-6 pairs of underwear. He put them away as instructed and we all went to bed.

The next morning, of course we were in a hurry to get somewhere and the underwear were nowhere to be found. Typically I would not have much confidence that the clothes made it safely to the drawer, but this time both Eli and I were sure he had put them away. Yet, they were all missing. Not a clean pair of underwear to be found. All of us searched high and low to no avail. Finally we coerced him into wearing some of Cameron's underwear and we went on our way.

Later that day I discovered a stock-pile of Eli's underwear in Miriam's closet.

Erick and his adorable wifey

then it dawned on me...

These are the eight grandchildren of my parents, Tony & Cathy. (I won't put their last name; someone might steal my Dad's identity and he would never forgive me.) It's difficult to get eight children age six and under to sit still for a picture. But it's cute.

I truly laughed out loud when I realized half of them were mine. HALF. I am the third of six children. HOW DID IT HAPPEN THAT WAY?!

As a side note, there are two more grandchildren on the way in September and December. Both are girls, leaving poor Simon to be surrounded by six females, four older and two younger.

blast from the past

I've been totally unmotivated to blog lately. But when I took this picture of Miriam I had a major flashback and a wave of nostalgia and I had to share.


Remember this? Oh how I wanted a "Kid Sister." That was the most effective marketing I can recall from my childhood. Didn't those kids just seem to have the most glorious existance? I was sure they were so content with their "Buddy" or "Sister" they wanted for nothing else.





It makes me wonder if a doll like that would even sell today. No bells or whistles. Their eyes don't even close.

Sigh.