Last Wednesday night we were buried beneath a foot of snow. A foot of snow isn’t very much to a lot of people, I know. But a foot of snow here is an impetus for total chaos. Needless to say, Thursday was a snow day. The government closed, daycare closed, even fucking Dominos was closed. WHAT THE HELL?!
RJ still had to work, though, so it was just the kids and me All. Day. Long. Maybe that sounds like fun to you, but I guarantee you it wasn’t fun. Snow days aren’t exactly fun when you’re a parent and 1) hate the cold but also 2) hate being cooped up inside and 3) have a shit ton of super time-intensive homework to do. But it’s the hand we were dealt so it’s the hand we played. For like, 15 minutes.
While the kids hung around on the couch watching cartoons and eating waffles, I ran around the house trying to find shit for them to wear in the snow. The only reason Emma had anything remotely snow-appropriate to wear was because mi amiga Heather dropped off piles and piles of hand-me-downs a few months ago, which happened to contain snow boots, snow pants, and a rain coat. So, you know, THANKS, HEATHER! Madden, on the other hand, was SOL. I had to double up his socks, his pants, and triple up his shirts and even then he definitely didn’t stay dry.
Neither one of the kids had any idea what was going on or how to play in the snow, which was a little embarrassing but also relieving because I wasn’t trying to spend all day out there in the freezing fucking cold. Emma was more concerned with cleaning the snow off the car than she was with playing in or with it, and Madden mostly just stood around looking perplexed or smacking the snow with his cutie little mittened hands. I snapped a few photos, called it good, and bribed the kids back inside with promises of Barney and treats. Thank god they both were totally fine with coming in and playing inside for the rest of the day because I have exactly zero amount of time to dedicate to the fucking cold. I really need to move to the beach.
♥ Happy Valentine’s Day from ER room 22C! ♥
When Emma was about 14 months old she developed a random but extreme fever during nap time one day. Like, it was so high (104+) and she was so red that her doctor told us to soak her in an ice bath while we waited to see if OTC fever meds would work or if an ER visit was in our immediate future. An ice bath for a 1 year old doesn’t exactly work (I dare you to try it), and, it turns out, neither did the meds. So off to the ER we went. And to the Children’s Hospital she was admitted for the next 36 hours. Turns out her fever was a reaction to the E. coli-caused UTI she had. Yeah. You read that right. At 1 year old Emma had a UTI caused by E. coli. THE FUCK? Anyway, after a day and a half in the hospital hooked up to meds she was fine and we were sent home.
Emma’s been super healthy since then, until she developed a random fever yesterday afternoon. We started her on a regimented schedule of ibuprofen and acetaminophen right away, but when neither med hadn’t started doing its job by 4:15 this morning, and her fever climbed to 105.9 degrees (according to a temporal AND under-the-arm thermometer), off to the ER we went again. And in the ER we stayed for the next five hours.
They took her blood, her urine, a nasal swab, and chest X-rays. The doc checked her ears and immediately diagnosed her with a double ear infection, and after hours of waiting, her nasal swab came back positive for the flu. Her blood chemistry came back fine, as did her chest X-rays (they were concerned about pneumonia because she also developed a sudden and pretty heavy chest cough), and her urine came back clean — no UTI. Thank fucking god. The doctor ordered another round of fluids and antibiotics via her IV, and once those were done she was finally discharged.
So here we are now at home, piled into the living room watching Disney, Jr. all day. She seems to be feeling much better, but clearly she isn’t all-the-way there yet. It’s going to be a fantastic weekend, guys. And it’s going to be a fantastic day. RJ’s off, which means he’s home all day. Emma’s recovering from being on her deathbed. My Valentine’s Day present for Shannon is already two days late because of that stupid storm we had (and when I check the tracking status the Estimated Delivery box says “N/A” — because that’s encouraging). And Shannon has to work late today. This isn’t exactly how I saw today going. But hey, what’re you gonna do? C’est la vie, my friends. C’est la fucking vie. At least Emma isn’t dying any more. And at least she scored a pretty sweet bunny Beanie Baby out of the whole deal (that’s her up there in those photos hanging out on the hospital bed railing).
Last Wednesday morning Shannon and I decided we were going to surprise Emma and Madden by taking them to get ice cream for dinner that evening. Why? Because we’re rad. And because we’re also slightly crazy/disillusioned. We had the idea that both kids would be super stoked for such a badass surprise but, after teasing a “super secret special surprise” from the time we picked them up at daycare, all Emma kept talking about was wanting a turtle. Huh? I DON’T GET YOU, YOU WEIRD LITTLE PERSON!
Anyway, we took them to Sweet Frog, a local self-serve, pay-by-the-pound (yes, the pound, because fuck a pint, give me a pound) ice cream and froyo shop. Emma picked out her ice cream by color, not flavor (obvi she chose pink), and wanted basically every topping option available. She ended up with mini m&ms, crushed Oreos, gummy worms, and fresh strawberries (A for effort, kid), and she downed it with a quickness. Madden picked out his ice cream by flavor (because ‘chocolate’ is his favorite flavor of anything) and got the same toppings as Emma, which ended up working out just fine because he was too busy running around the ice cream shop to give a shit about actually eating his ice cream, and Emma ate it for him. Mostly.
Emma ended up eating MOST of Madden’s ice cream before we headed back home, but there was still a liiiiiitle bit left, and even though it’d already melted she insisted on taking it home with us. I set it in the cup holder up front because NO, I did NOT feel like cleaning up melted chocolate ice cream from all over the backseat. Anyway, I forgot all about it until we got in the car the next morning for daycare and CrossFit, and because it had been 3 degrees overnight it had re-frozen. So you know, even though the kids didn’t react the way we’d hoped (Madden ran around the shop the whole time squealing and causing a huge ruckus, and Emma complained that she didn’t get ice cream once we got home, even though “I ate all of my dinner”) it ended up working out just fine because I ate the rest of it for breakfast the next morning before walking into CrossFit. Because chocolate and dairy make for the best preworkout. #onlygodcanjudgeme
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