Let him sleep.
For when he wakes,
He will move mountains.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
well. well. well....
Actually, we aren't well at all!
Maddox went back to school Monday.
He was no longer wheezing and was satting 98%.
I knew it was a stretch even sending him-- and my mommy gut was right, as he did not have a great day at school.
I hate to be the mom who gives him an out... but I knew it was coming.
He had been on steroids and albuterol-- which is a lot like speed.
He had not been to bed before midnight since the day he was diagnosed with asthma.
Some nights, doing a treatment in the middle of the night and then up by 7:00...
And other nights he was up with nightmares-- like the magic pencil who kept smiling at him and saying bad words to me.
We were so out of whack.
And tired.
And we had many nights this week like this, both exhausted and finally throwing in the towel in my lap.
(although, until last night, both have still continued to stay in their bed all night!! ...HUGE success!)
So, though I was disappointed that he was crawling under the bathroom stall and leaving it locked behind at school on Monday, I wasn't shocked.
It did put me in a pickle, however, because my mom was already on her way to meet us so he could pick his toy for taking all of his breathing treatments, like she promised, and I wasn't sure how to deal with it-- since I didn't want to praise him after that incident.
Lance called him while we were still in the school parking lot and told him that we were disappointed for him getting in trouble but he could still get the toy because we were proud of him taking his treatments-- and that was unrelated to his day at school.
Two minutes later, he crashed in the car:
We did wake him at WalMart and he picked out a little "Turtle Ninja" figurine and a teeny-tiny little super-hero that came in a little ball.
back to school for a second::
I had a little anxiety in the hallway at school Monday, when I over-heard another mom talking to the teacher about how much attention her son takes in doing his work and how his pride shows.
I am not sure Maddox even realizes that he is suppose to color in between the lines-- and if he does, he doesn't care.
He always uses the same 4 colors: blue, orange, green and black.
An it is always a scribbled mess, randomly atop the black lines of the picture.
But then I realized that we aren't going to Kindergarten next year, and I gave myself a tiny thumbs up for my decision.
Maybe we will care a little more next year to color in the lines--
or not go crazy on the "o" when writing "Maddox", like he did there above.
But until then, we will crack up over the fact that he gave Beckham a "cranky face" and adore the fact that he tried to write, "I love you" and sounded it out as "I lf u".
This picture is my favorite drawing ever, thus far!
Tuesday Maddox and Beckham traded places.
Beckham has learned 4 new words in the last few days and is starting to put no-no in front of people's names...
our first 2 word sentence came from Lance pulling out the shop vac to clean up a cracker mess in the living room Monday night.
Beckham hates the vacuum and he gave Lance an ear full about it!
Maddox woke up in the middle of the night, Monday, also upset about the shop-vac!
He was sure Lance sucked up his new toy from Gigi-- and there wasn't anything I could say to calm him.
Still haven't found the little tiny super-hero, so knowing Lance, he did.
Yesterday I was able to get all of our laundry done and the house scrubbed.
I re-cut my Valentine's day flowers and moved them to a cute Mason jar in the window by my sink.
Beckham took a long nap and I got a super sweet (and super cute) letter in the mail from my pal Nicolle.
All was going well, except Maddox was a weepy mess.
And Beckham, after taking a long nap, was positive that he wasn't tired.
I had texted Amanda earlier in the day telling her that Maddox was pushing my limits, and then I heard my mom's friend Joyce saying, "I bet he's getting sick."
Twice now, I have complained about the way Maddox was acting and she said that she bet he was becoming ill.
The next day-- she was right-- both times.
Well at about 11:00, I was just going off call and had finally rocked B to sleep and I heard Maddox yelling my name.
Occasionally he does that, so I didn't jump right up and head to him because I knew he would either go right back to sleep or come to enough to walk to me-- and I had a sleeping baby in my hands and I didn't want him to wake him.
After a couple of times of saying my name, he stopped and I made my way to check on him.
One foot in the room, I stepped in a pile of vomit.
It was on the wall, all over the bed, and there was a trail to the potty where he was burying his baby head.
Had Joyce said it with her mouth, and not just in my head, I'd have to tell her that she was right again.
I cleaned the mess and shampooed the carpet.
And tossed them both in be with me.
(as Lance was still at the store, trying to get this thing finished.)
Diarrhea soon followed,
And Lance rolled in bed close to 2:00.
By morning, we had accidents from all orifices and there isn't a clean sheet left in my house.
We missed school today and Maddox still hasn't made it out of bed any further than to go potty.
He's achy and cold and thinks he can't walk on his feet.
(more importantly, he can't do his impatient foot tap that he does when he'd love to ask me to hurry-- but doesn't have the guts to actually say that!)
Beckham is doing his best to destroy the clean house...
he thinks it is funny to tell me that he doesn't love me...
and has diarrhea too!
Diarrhea + the skanky store brand diapers that I decided to cheap into this time = raw legs and a fancy rash for his bottom.
The laundry basket has clothes in it again.
Because I can't convince them that naked is the way to go.
And I am *hoping* that if I have to get this virus, it comes tonight...
as I can't afford to miss call tomorrow!
***
I know better than to brag about such a lovely day on Sunday.
I ate crow.
But it could always be worse!
Maddox went back to school Monday.
He was no longer wheezing and was satting 98%.
I knew it was a stretch even sending him-- and my mommy gut was right, as he did not have a great day at school.
I hate to be the mom who gives him an out... but I knew it was coming.
He had been on steroids and albuterol-- which is a lot like speed.
He had not been to bed before midnight since the day he was diagnosed with asthma.
Some nights, doing a treatment in the middle of the night and then up by 7:00...
And other nights he was up with nightmares-- like the magic pencil who kept smiling at him and saying bad words to me.
We were so out of whack.
And tired.
And we had many nights this week like this, both exhausted and finally throwing in the towel in my lap.
(although, until last night, both have still continued to stay in their bed all night!! ...HUGE success!)
So, though I was disappointed that he was crawling under the bathroom stall and leaving it locked behind at school on Monday, I wasn't shocked.
It did put me in a pickle, however, because my mom was already on her way to meet us so he could pick his toy for taking all of his breathing treatments, like she promised, and I wasn't sure how to deal with it-- since I didn't want to praise him after that incident.
Lance called him while we were still in the school parking lot and told him that we were disappointed for him getting in trouble but he could still get the toy because we were proud of him taking his treatments-- and that was unrelated to his day at school.
Two minutes later, he crashed in the car:
back to school for a second::
I had a little anxiety in the hallway at school Monday, when I over-heard another mom talking to the teacher about how much attention her son takes in doing his work and how his pride shows.
I am not sure Maddox even realizes that he is suppose to color in between the lines-- and if he does, he doesn't care.
He always uses the same 4 colors: blue, orange, green and black.
An it is always a scribbled mess, randomly atop the black lines of the picture.
Maybe we will care a little more next year to color in the lines--
or not go crazy on the "o" when writing "Maddox", like he did there above.
But until then, we will crack up over the fact that he gave Beckham a "cranky face" and adore the fact that he tried to write, "I love you" and sounded it out as "I lf u".
This picture is my favorite drawing ever, thus far!
Tuesday Maddox and Beckham traded places.
Beckham has learned 4 new words in the last few days and is starting to put no-no in front of people's names...
our first 2 word sentence came from Lance pulling out the shop vac to clean up a cracker mess in the living room Monday night.
Beckham hates the vacuum and he gave Lance an ear full about it!
Maddox woke up in the middle of the night, Monday, also upset about the shop-vac!
He was sure Lance sucked up his new toy from Gigi-- and there wasn't anything I could say to calm him.
Still haven't found the little tiny super-hero, so knowing Lance, he did.
Yesterday I was able to get all of our laundry done and the house scrubbed.
I re-cut my Valentine's day flowers and moved them to a cute Mason jar in the window by my sink.
Beckham took a long nap and I got a super sweet (and super cute) letter in the mail from my pal Nicolle.
All was going well, except Maddox was a weepy mess.
And Beckham, after taking a long nap, was positive that he wasn't tired.
I had texted Amanda earlier in the day telling her that Maddox was pushing my limits, and then I heard my mom's friend Joyce saying, "I bet he's getting sick."
Twice now, I have complained about the way Maddox was acting and she said that she bet he was becoming ill.
The next day-- she was right-- both times.
Well at about 11:00, I was just going off call and had finally rocked B to sleep and I heard Maddox yelling my name.
Occasionally he does that, so I didn't jump right up and head to him because I knew he would either go right back to sleep or come to enough to walk to me-- and I had a sleeping baby in my hands and I didn't want him to wake him.
After a couple of times of saying my name, he stopped and I made my way to check on him.
One foot in the room, I stepped in a pile of vomit.
It was on the wall, all over the bed, and there was a trail to the potty where he was burying his baby head.
Had Joyce said it with her mouth, and not just in my head, I'd have to tell her that she was right again.
I cleaned the mess and shampooed the carpet.
And tossed them both in be with me.
(as Lance was still at the store, trying to get this thing finished.)
And Lance rolled in bed close to 2:00.
By morning, we had accidents from all orifices and there isn't a clean sheet left in my house.
We missed school today and Maddox still hasn't made it out of bed any further than to go potty.
He's achy and cold and thinks he can't walk on his feet.
(more importantly, he can't do his impatient foot tap that he does when he'd love to ask me to hurry-- but doesn't have the guts to actually say that!)
Beckham is doing his best to destroy the clean house...
he thinks it is funny to tell me that he doesn't love me...
and has diarrhea too!
Diarrhea + the skanky store brand diapers that I decided to cheap into this time = raw legs and a fancy rash for his bottom.
The laundry basket has clothes in it again.
Because I can't convince them that naked is the way to go.
And I am *hoping* that if I have to get this virus, it comes tonight...
as I can't afford to miss call tomorrow!
***
I know better than to brag about such a lovely day on Sunday.
I ate crow.
But it could always be worse!
Monday, February 25, 2013
I love yesterday.
Lance was called into work at the last minute, which was a complete bummer.
I was soangry at his...no, aggravated at the situation that I almost stayed home my self.
But I am glad I didn't.
I love being home.
Even though the home my parents live in now was not the home I grew up in.
It still has the same smells, furnishings, food and people.
And since Maddox is no longer wheezing and has been holding his sats up-- I let them play outside.
On his scooter.
The swing set.
The tree swing.
In the leaves.
And they both talked Pop into a ride on the Ranger...
And if that wasn't good enough.
I came home to do laundry and Lance started helping without me even asking...
And then cut into folding to do a little dancing in our bedroom.
I love yesterday.
I was so
But I am glad I didn't.
I love being home.
Even though the home my parents live in now was not the home I grew up in.
It still has the same smells, furnishings, food and people.
And since Maddox is no longer wheezing and has been holding his sats up-- I let them play outside.
On his scooter.
The swing set.
The tree swing.
In the leaves.
And they both talked Pop into a ride on the Ranger...
And if that wasn't good enough.
I came home to do laundry and Lance started helping without me even asking...
And then cut into folding to do a little dancing in our bedroom.
I love yesterday.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
February 21
Nine years ago today, Lance asked me to marry him on a carriage ride, right before dinner at Del Frisco's.
I was 19 years old.
He makes me psychotic{er} at times... and I certainly think I cheated myself out of a few years of adventure and finding myself.
But at just 22, he did too.
And along the way, we have figured things out-- and traded travel and finer things for 2 boys worth more than gold.
And it may have taken him almost the entire 11 years to figure it out...
but last night he walked into the house that I left untouched--
with this.
Today was just as difficult...
Because wine, cupcakes and a massage didn't make Maddox breathe better or my 21 month old act right.
But it absolutely helped.
As did the play date with Candace this morning.
And tomorrow...
my 21 month old, turns 22 months.
But he's prepared...
because he is rocking a new do.
And a fierce attitude!
I was 19 years old.
He makes me psychotic{er} at times... and I certainly think I cheated myself out of a few years of adventure and finding myself.
But at just 22, he did too.
And along the way, we have figured things out-- and traded travel and finer things for 2 boys worth more than gold.
And it may have taken him almost the entire 11 years to figure it out...
but last night he walked into the house that I left untouched--
with this.
Today was just as difficult...
Because wine, cupcakes and a massage didn't make Maddox breathe better or my 21 month old act right.
But it absolutely helped.
As did the play date with Candace this morning.
And tomorrow...
my 21 month old, turns 22 months.
But he's prepared...
because he is rocking a new do.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
I am drained.
I was on call Sunday.
It was mild, in relation to how busy this sick season has been this year.
Lance had to work.
Beckham was being sweet.
And Maddox played outside.
All. Day. Long.
After dinner, Maddox told me his throat hurt and he needed medicine.
I rarely ever give our kids medication, at all, but he looked run down and beat-- and like we were minutes away from fever.
He wanted to lay in my bed for a while before he had to go to his own and he seemed like he was laboring to breathe.
I watched him for a minute, and then decided to get my stethoscope and listen.
His upper left lope was nothing but wheezing and he was visually laboring.
Now.
Lets back track to where I remind you that I was on call.
If you were to call me to tell that your 4 1/2 year old, non-asthmatic child was panting, wheezing, and complaining of a sore throat, I wouldn't give you another minute to finish your story-- and you would be ER bound.
As a matter of fact, I most likely sent a couple of kids to the ER that night for similar symptoms.
But for my own child,
I decided to watch him.
A. Because we still don't know which kidney we are going to have to give up to pay for Beckham's adventure.
B. Because I know the wait at CCMC ER right now... plus I was on call...
But mostly, I have decided,
C. Because I am an arrogant idiot.
To paint you an even more ignorant picture of myself, I made him sleep in his own bed because the boys have been doing so well staying out of our bed since we moved them together, that I was afraid of jacking up our rhythm.
He was up by 7 :00 (although he usually sleeps until 830 or 900) and he seemed worse than the night before.
I went ahead and started showers and waited for the office to open.
Of course it is a Monday morning and they were already swamped with calls but our sweet nurse (and pal) told me to head that way.
On the drive there, I starting magnifying how bad he really was and wondering why I was so negligent to wait this long.
They swept us right back to a room,
Which was good.
Because my little non-asthmatic-- never had RSV-- never wheezed a day in his life-- little boy...
was satting 89%.
We had him take some good deep breaths and he got up to 93%.
It you aren't familiar what a normal read is...
it's 100%.
Anything over 95% is fine.
89%-93% is shit.
Pardon the French.
Dr G said he was wheezing in every lobe and we needed to start him on a nebulizer.
I hate that I do this, but of course I am ringing it up in my brain like an old-timey cash register-- the neb machine-- the meds-- are we going for a chest xray?-- to Cooks?--
I didn't know.
But I do know that our insurance sucks.
After a neb, he was still 93-94% but he cleared all but one lobe of the wheezing.
Dr Guthrie said he landed himself in a perfect storm of humidity, temperature, and pollen--
but she was certain that this was true asthma.
Maybe seasonal-- maybe the real deal-- there's no way to tell at this point.
But-- he has to stay inside to play for a few days while we get him under control.
We left with a cute little bear shaped machine, a prescription for steroids and Albuterol, a little boy in tears-- begging to not have to do any more treatments, and enough sample vials to get us through the night.
Gigi promised him a toy if he did his treatments without crying-- and after the 2nd one, he hasn't seemed bothered about them at all anymore.
(although he was sure to call my mom yesterday morning to remind her about the toy)
We did his treatments every 3-4 hours on Monday, and once during the night.
He seemed a lot better yesterday morning but we bathed and headed to get our prescriptions.
Which turned into an emotional day.
Our house payment went up $100 due to taxes changing and a shortage in escrow.
We waited 3 hours for our prescriptions.
I spilled a large cherry vanilla coke into my some-what expensive purse that was housing my brand new Iphone 5.
Maddox, who looked better, was still satting 91%.
I was mad at myself for making light of his panting and letting him wait...
I was sad for him that he's confined indoors in such awesome weather-- while all the neighbor boys were playing right outside the window...
I was unsure about sending him to school today...
or sports for the rest of his life.
I broke out in my signature stress rash...
Call was terrible and each page took 10-15 minutes to get through, putting me behind.
Beckham cries. And screams. And demands this world to work his way.
Lance couldn't swaddle me up and make it better either-- instead he kept trying to joke with me like we were in the 7th grade.
I may have thrown the last of the Velveeta at him when he perched on one foot and stuck out both his hands in the air like the karate kid; mocking my breakdown...
And then ran away crying, as Beckham walked around the corner with a chunk of Velveeta-- chomping into it as if it were an apple.
I found a petechiae rash or weird bruise on Beckham that trickles from his hip to his knee...
and by 10:00pm last night,
I was convinced they both had cancer and there wasn't a crappier mom on the face of this earth.
Thank you God for great friends and an encouraging mom--
because it took more than one pep talk to make it through yesterday.
And crazy or not, I went ahead and bought our own pulse ox, to monitor Maddox' oxygen... and it was $40 well spent.
Because the little boy who "looked much better today" is still bottoming out every 4 hours or so-- and obviously I have already proved that I am terrible at assessing his status on my own.
***
People deal with asthma every single day.
I realize that.
But this is new to me.
People deal with unruly, hardly-happy, wild and reckless toddlers every day.
I know that too.
But it is still hard.
I just want to know how those people deal with the headaches, the tears and the tension around their upper back and neck....
because I will be honest--
as I was leaving Best Buy today, both Beckham and I crying... and him screaming-- only stopping long enough to gather his next breath and wail out again, body stiff, in a fit straight from hell-- I thought that being smacked in the head by a large frying pan, attacked by wild dogs or drinking so much wine that I peed on myself sounded like a more enjoyable way to spend my Wednesday.
And as I replayed Lance's voice saying, "He only acts like this for me. He's so much better for you during the day." As if me and the kids sprinkle glitter around the house, with perma-smiles and laughter while a fairy, whom we don't pay, cleans this house for me-- while he is at work-- and the 5:00 hits and Beckham removes his rainbows to reveal the inner monster just in time for Lance to take over.....
No.
I may have envisioned him playing with the dogs as well.
Or being bit.
A lot.
But then Beckham gave up and fell asleep--
and I breathed again.
And let go of my day dream of torture on Lance!
***
You know I hate to leave these entries on such a pissy note, so I'll also post a few funnies from the past week.
Or at least the ones I remember.
***
The other day B was on a terror and I said to Maddox, "Beckham needs a N. A. P.".
Of course he asked what that spelled and I made him sound it out.
Maddox's eyes got big and he said, "there's no telling what he will do with a PAN!"
On Saturday, Maddox and I slipped away for a little date over yogurt.
He asked me if I wanted him to take me to Egypt... or Paris... or Florida... or any other desert like that.
He asked me if I wanted to talk in French...
We chatted about "Turtle Ninjas", "Marmio brothers", and "Star Warriors"...
And we had the best time together.
While we were laughing and talking, the song, "Girl on Fire" by Alicia Keys came on, and without discussing it-- Maddox and I both interrupted our conversation at the same time to hit the chorus, in our best high pitched voices as if we were the only people in the yogurt shop, --"this. girl is on fiiiiiiiire..."
I giggled because he's me.
Lance would have wanted to crawl under a table and would have certainly told me that was 'enough'-- but I loved it.
Both of my kids love music like me.
And to dance.
As soon as we get in the car, actually, I can always count on hearing Maddox saying, "get it B!" and to look back at Beckham rocking out with the most serious expression.
And as soon as there is music playing in my house, both my kids ask me to dance.
Even Beckham.
Without words, he smiles real big and holds out one arm and I know what he wants.
It is one of my favorite things.
One of his favorite things too.
Besides stealing my coffee.
This morning, he told on his self as I could hear him laughing as I rounded the corner.
Of course it had already cooled and there was no more than a mouth-full left in the mug.
But he thought he was getting away with something huge!
Maddox was busy this morning too.
"Handling this war in China" that he built.
He kept moving them in different positions and asking me to take pictures of them.
And I can't forget to post these unrelated but awesome crafts the boys made.
They did an incredible job.
And to tell one final story on B.
At CFA on Monday after out appointment, a mom came over to tell me that my son was so sweet.
I am embarrassed to admit this, but I assumed she was talking about the one who gets those compliments a lot while we are out in public. She went on to tell me that her little boy was crying and he came over and and hugged him and was patting his back. Then she mentioned his adorable little shoes and Gap hat.
And I said, "the baby?" ... and she said yes, he's very affectionate and I'd say that's a sign that he's well loved.
She had no idea how much I needed to hear that.
Or maybe she could tell that I was drained-- and just knew how to fill my cup.
It was mild, in relation to how busy this sick season has been this year.
Lance had to work.
Beckham was being sweet.
And Maddox played outside.
All. Day. Long.
After dinner, Maddox told me his throat hurt and he needed medicine.
I rarely ever give our kids medication, at all, but he looked run down and beat-- and like we were minutes away from fever.
He wanted to lay in my bed for a while before he had to go to his own and he seemed like he was laboring to breathe.
I watched him for a minute, and then decided to get my stethoscope and listen.
His upper left lope was nothing but wheezing and he was visually laboring.
Now.
Lets back track to where I remind you that I was on call.
If you were to call me to tell that your 4 1/2 year old, non-asthmatic child was panting, wheezing, and complaining of a sore throat, I wouldn't give you another minute to finish your story-- and you would be ER bound.
As a matter of fact, I most likely sent a couple of kids to the ER that night for similar symptoms.
But for my own child,
I decided to watch him.
A. Because we still don't know which kidney we are going to have to give up to pay for Beckham's adventure.
B. Because I know the wait at CCMC ER right now... plus I was on call...
But mostly, I have decided,
C. Because I am an arrogant idiot.
To paint you an even more ignorant picture of myself, I made him sleep in his own bed because the boys have been doing so well staying out of our bed since we moved them together, that I was afraid of jacking up our rhythm.
He was up by 7 :00 (although he usually sleeps until 830 or 900) and he seemed worse than the night before.
I went ahead and started showers and waited for the office to open.
Of course it is a Monday morning and they were already swamped with calls but our sweet nurse (and pal) told me to head that way.
On the drive there, I starting magnifying how bad he really was and wondering why I was so negligent to wait this long.
They swept us right back to a room,
Which was good.
Because my little non-asthmatic-- never had RSV-- never wheezed a day in his life-- little boy...
was satting 89%.
We had him take some good deep breaths and he got up to 93%.
It you aren't familiar what a normal read is...
it's 100%.
Anything over 95% is fine.
89%-93% is shit.
Pardon the French.
Dr G said he was wheezing in every lobe and we needed to start him on a nebulizer.
I hate that I do this, but of course I am ringing it up in my brain like an old-timey cash register-- the neb machine-- the meds-- are we going for a chest xray?-- to Cooks?--
I didn't know.
But I do know that our insurance sucks.
After a neb, he was still 93-94% but he cleared all but one lobe of the wheezing.
Dr Guthrie said he landed himself in a perfect storm of humidity, temperature, and pollen--
but she was certain that this was true asthma.
Maybe seasonal-- maybe the real deal-- there's no way to tell at this point.
But-- he has to stay inside to play for a few days while we get him under control.
We left with a cute little bear shaped machine, a prescription for steroids and Albuterol, a little boy in tears-- begging to not have to do any more treatments, and enough sample vials to get us through the night.
Gigi promised him a toy if he did his treatments without crying-- and after the 2nd one, he hasn't seemed bothered about them at all anymore.
(although he was sure to call my mom yesterday morning to remind her about the toy)
We did his treatments every 3-4 hours on Monday, and once during the night.
He seemed a lot better yesterday morning but we bathed and headed to get our prescriptions.
Which turned into an emotional day.
Our house payment went up $100 due to taxes changing and a shortage in escrow.
We waited 3 hours for our prescriptions.
I spilled a large cherry vanilla coke into my some-what expensive purse that was housing my brand new Iphone 5.
Maddox, who looked better, was still satting 91%.
I was mad at myself for making light of his panting and letting him wait...
I was sad for him that he's confined indoors in such awesome weather-- while all the neighbor boys were playing right outside the window...
I was unsure about sending him to school today...
or sports for the rest of his life.
I broke out in my signature stress rash...
Call was terrible and each page took 10-15 minutes to get through, putting me behind.
Beckham cries. And screams. And demands this world to work his way.
Lance couldn't swaddle me up and make it better either-- instead he kept trying to joke with me like we were in the 7th grade.
I may have thrown the last of the Velveeta at him when he perched on one foot and stuck out both his hands in the air like the karate kid; mocking my breakdown...
And then ran away crying, as Beckham walked around the corner with a chunk of Velveeta-- chomping into it as if it were an apple.
I found a petechiae rash or weird bruise on Beckham that trickles from his hip to his knee...
and by 10:00pm last night,
I was convinced they both had cancer and there wasn't a crappier mom on the face of this earth.
Thank you God for great friends and an encouraging mom--
because it took more than one pep talk to make it through yesterday.
And crazy or not, I went ahead and bought our own pulse ox, to monitor Maddox' oxygen... and it was $40 well spent.
Because the little boy who "looked much better today" is still bottoming out every 4 hours or so-- and obviously I have already proved that I am terrible at assessing his status on my own.
***
People deal with asthma every single day.
I realize that.
But this is new to me.
People deal with unruly, hardly-happy, wild and reckless toddlers every day.
I know that too.
But it is still hard.
I just want to know how those people deal with the headaches, the tears and the tension around their upper back and neck....
because I will be honest--
as I was leaving Best Buy today, both Beckham and I crying... and him screaming-- only stopping long enough to gather his next breath and wail out again, body stiff, in a fit straight from hell-- I thought that being smacked in the head by a large frying pan, attacked by wild dogs or drinking so much wine that I peed on myself sounded like a more enjoyable way to spend my Wednesday.
And as I replayed Lance's voice saying, "He only acts like this for me. He's so much better for you during the day." As if me and the kids sprinkle glitter around the house, with perma-smiles and laughter while a fairy, whom we don't pay, cleans this house for me-- while he is at work-- and the 5:00 hits and Beckham removes his rainbows to reveal the inner monster just in time for Lance to take over.....
No.
I may have envisioned him playing with the dogs as well.
Or being bit.
A lot.
But then Beckham gave up and fell asleep--
and I breathed again.
And let go of my day dream of torture on Lance!
***
You know I hate to leave these entries on such a pissy note, so I'll also post a few funnies from the past week.
Or at least the ones I remember.
***
The other day B was on a terror and I said to Maddox, "Beckham needs a N. A. P.".
Of course he asked what that spelled and I made him sound it out.
Maddox's eyes got big and he said, "there's no telling what he will do with a PAN!"
On Saturday, Maddox and I slipped away for a little date over yogurt.
He asked me if I wanted him to take me to Egypt... or Paris... or Florida... or any other desert like that.
He asked me if I wanted to talk in French...
We chatted about "Turtle Ninjas", "Marmio brothers", and "Star Warriors"...
And we had the best time together.
While we were laughing and talking, the song, "Girl on Fire" by Alicia Keys came on, and without discussing it-- Maddox and I both interrupted our conversation at the same time to hit the chorus, in our best high pitched voices as if we were the only people in the yogurt shop, --"this. girl is on fiiiiiiiire..."
I giggled because he's me.
Lance would have wanted to crawl under a table and would have certainly told me that was 'enough'-- but I loved it.
Both of my kids love music like me.
And to dance.
As soon as we get in the car, actually, I can always count on hearing Maddox saying, "get it B!" and to look back at Beckham rocking out with the most serious expression.
And as soon as there is music playing in my house, both my kids ask me to dance.
Even Beckham.
Without words, he smiles real big and holds out one arm and I know what he wants.
It is one of my favorite things.
One of his favorite things too.
Besides stealing my coffee.
This morning, he told on his self as I could hear him laughing as I rounded the corner.
Of course it had already cooled and there was no more than a mouth-full left in the mug.
But he thought he was getting away with something huge!
"Handling this war in China" that he built.
He kept moving them in different positions and asking me to take pictures of them.
And I can't forget to post these unrelated but awesome crafts the boys made.
They did an incredible job.
At CFA on Monday after out appointment, a mom came over to tell me that my son was so sweet.
I am embarrassed to admit this, but I assumed she was talking about the one who gets those compliments a lot while we are out in public. She went on to tell me that her little boy was crying and he came over and and hugged him and was patting his back. Then she mentioned his adorable little shoes and Gap hat.
And I said, "the baby?" ... and she said yes, he's very affectionate and I'd say that's a sign that he's well loved.
She had no idea how much I needed to hear that.
Or maybe she could tell that I was drained-- and just knew how to fill my cup.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Valentine's Day
I love Valentines.
Always have...
Always will.
Because I take call on Thursday nights, we moved our celebratory dinner up a night.
Lance let Maddox pick where he was going to take me on a date, and of course he chose Chilis... but I talked him into watching a chef juggle fire like a ninja... and we had Hibatchi!
The boys had never been but loved it...
And because we went a night early, there was no crowd!
We centered today's meals around the holiday...
with hearts every where you looked!
The boys got mail from Nana yesterday.
As did Lance and I.
And a package from my Dad and step-mom today.
They got presents from Mommy and Daddy...
And Maddox brought home enough candy from his Valentine's party at school on Wednesday to feed a village.
We had a great day.
A day of love.
A day of play.
A day with my favorite people in the world.
Which is what this day of love means to me.
It is also a day to adore that man that I married.
...and not focus on the things that make me want to cut him. ;)
{{The CD is after we watched the Grammy's and Maddox knew every word to every song and Lance didn't know any song... at all! ...Sports radio plays little Mumford and Sons, so I brought him up to speed.}
Maddox made me this gorgeous bracelet on Monday that I have worn every day since...
Lance treated me to flowers today... a sweet card...
and this little gadget too.
And because it is the day of love,
I thought I would do a little collage of the things that make Lance unique to me...
Happy Valentine's Day!
Always have...
Always will.
Because I take call on Thursday nights, we moved our celebratory dinner up a night.
Lance let Maddox pick where he was going to take me on a date, and of course he chose Chilis... but I talked him into watching a chef juggle fire like a ninja... and we had Hibatchi!
The boys had never been but loved it...
And because we went a night early, there was no crowd!
We centered today's meals around the holiday...
with hearts every where you looked!
The boys got mail from Nana yesterday.
As did Lance and I.
And a package from my Dad and step-mom today.
They got presents from Mommy and Daddy...
And Maddox brought home enough candy from his Valentine's party at school on Wednesday to feed a village.
We had a great day.
A day of love.
A day of play.
A day with my favorite people in the world.
It is also a day to adore that man that I married.
...and not focus on the things that make me want to cut him. ;)
{{The CD is after we watched the Grammy's and Maddox knew every word to every song and Lance didn't know any song... at all! ...Sports radio plays little Mumford and Sons, so I brought him up to speed.}
Maddox made me this gorgeous bracelet on Monday that I have worn every day since...
Lance treated me to flowers today... a sweet card...
And because it is the day of love,
I thought I would do a little collage of the things that make Lance unique to me...
Happy Valentine's Day!
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