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 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!