Tuesday, January 21, 2014

over here...

We have been ill since the calendar changed years.
Which is a whole lot of fun for the gal in charge--
First Maddox, then Beckham.

Which we could have just changed their names to 'cranky' and 'crankier', and it would have been the same thing.
Or 'Hard to please' and 'Impossible to please' would have worked too.

As any decent mother does, I hate for my kids to be sick.
But if I am honest, my hatred stems more from the fact that the tears and fits and whining makes me slightly psychotic, and completely impatient.

There were lots of tears...
From all parties--
And worried family too.
Which was obvious from Pop's sweet delivery of "pedialyte", (which was more like "groceries") on my front porch during his lunch break!

Lance had jury duty last Friday and Monday.
The kids and I met him that Friday when they got out for a late lunch and I treated myself to some spending 'al la Christmas cash.
I bought a new Ninja mixer and pots and pans!
I am so almost 30.

I also took a couple of hours to have dinner with a couple of gal pals that night, and recharged.
 Which was timely, because illness had struck everyone in my home ...and finally it was my turn.

It started as just allergies-- my signature look of a meth addict; red face, swollen, and sneezing no less than 76 times a minute, while feeling like I could scratch my forehead right off my face.
We had gone to Audrey Jane's 3rd birthday party last weekend and the weather was perfect with some decent winds-- which is pretty much my arch enemy during the cold weather months.

Monday I made the kids stay inside all day with me for fear of re-exposure.  I was still achey and sluggish, but chalked it up to sneezing in Olympic measures the day before and still did not think I was "sick".

Tuesday, my mom came over and we went out to get donuts.  That little time outside got me going again, and I am pretty sure I ran a fever-- low grade-- but just enough to make me want to crawl in a cave and hibernate for the rest of the day…

It wasn't until Wednesday that I realized that this was more than an allergy thing-- that I had the boys' illness.

I had ventured out to meet a lady off of our community's Craig's List type site.
The boys and I met Lance for Chickfila, which for the first time of ever, sounded gross to me.
I ate my salad, and 3 glasses of sweet tea, and then I slid over to Kroger for a couple of things before I had to meet the lady.

On the meat isle, I started feeling the need to gag.
If you know me, this isn't a huge deal.  Raw meat makes me gag when I am well.  I shrugged it off as holly being holly.

But then I slid over to the bread and it was coming…
there was nothing I could do except stretch my head up towards the ceiling like a giraffe and make the dramatic gagging sound over and over-- just trying to hold the real mess back.
The boys were looking up at me like "please don't do this here mom!"… and I was certainly trying.
I looked over and made eye contact with a lady I was once in a lady's group with.
I can't tell if she didn't place me or if she was just doing us both a favor and moved on…
But it was then that it hit me from the other end….
I got my gags under control and tried to turn that bus of a cart around to get to the restroom but I was pushing one the carts with the little car attached to the front and we were getting no where fast.

I knew we were literally seconds from a mess, so I yelled at the kids, "get out and run!"
And we did.

Thankfully the "family" one was open and I got to hide out in there-- with an audience of two-- the smallest trying to crawl in my lap, so worried-- and once I finally felt well enough to retrieve my cart, I decided to forget the rest of the list and just pay.

Which means that I missed half of the things I needed---
including toilet paper…
which happens to be highly important to me during this mess.

I spent the rest of the night hugging up to the restroom and cleaning up Beckham who decided to poop his pants for no reason whatsoever.

Thursday, I completely forgot about the appraiser coming and opened the door in my robe-- with mascara a good 1/2" rubbed below my eyes, and an apology.
...While running back and forth to the restroom and hoping to goodness that he didn't notice.
The surveyor came out and did his thing too--this move is finally real.

I can't believe the house is rocking right along.
The house that wasn't even For Sale!
Three weeks ahead of schedule, actually.
They have told us that we can close early if we'd like--
but with January's mortgage already paid and the set-back of illness, on top of illness--
and not one box packed yet,
We are going to hold steady with the original close date for now.

I had made Lance a deal, years ago--
that if we sold the house and made it out to our land, he could buy a Ranger.
His truck has been paid off for years, and he has never told me one time that I can't have anything.
However, he's the only one in this house with a list of wants.
I am always the reasonable (bill paying) one, full of no's.
So it felt good to say yes...
And he's been on cloud nine since we brought it home on Saturday.

My mom and I spent all of Sunday and yesterday painting the rental.
We still are not finished and now mom has come down with a sore throat and a fever--
and I am still patiently waiting on a freeze to rescue myself from my look of meth.

There's not enough sinus rinses, nasal sprays, antihistamines, or showers to take away this misery.
I need to be packing...
I need to have a garage sale...
I need a dumpster and a free daycare...
(^ unrelated, those two)
I need more time.

But we are two weeks from moving...
Like it or not.

We are busy over here!

Thursday, January 9, 2014

Negative Nancy; checking in

I have heard that if you have nothing nice to say, then you should say nothing at all.
Well today is not my day.

And since Beckham is now 72 hours into vomiting, fever, diarrhea, and the pissiest attitude that I have ever seen--- my mom spent her day in the hospital having cat scans and being diagnosed with diverticulitis (while I sat at home sick, thinking she might have colon cancer), my neck being able to turn only about a .2 degree radius without a horrific pain shooting down my spine-- Maddox crying that he is scared, every. single. night. without fail-- call, being rock-star busy-- and having the pleasure of cleaning up the most awfullest smelling liquid stool not even 6" from the toilet, and all over the floor-- while Lance slept-- while mother nature knocks at my door and begs me to lose it--
I'm done.

Log off now if you aren't into bad attitudes, you've been warned.

First of all, I like posting pictures of my kids.
They're my kids.
Don't take it personal when one of my friends calls them models.
They're really not models.
Hence the fact that we are still poor nor have you seen them in the window of your local Gap.
I just have sweet friends.
And God asked me to think that they are cute, and love on them, and praise them, and post pictures of them too-- I'm sure!!
Obviously I don't have a whole lot more going for me over here… just give me that!  ;)

Also, this is my blog.
My place to post my thoughts, my opinions, and our life stories.
Sorry if it sometimes comes across braggy-- or negative-- or too happy or too mushy or whatever isn't to your likings.
I try and mix up a good array of all emotions-- the good, the bad, the ugly-- and I try to write by pretending that no one else is reading so I can be unfiltered.
The main reason that I blog is to create a time-stamp for my boys one day-- same as our yearbooks we bought in school.
It also serves as a debridement for me sometimes, and often my only release so that I can move on without going crazy!  Cheap therapy, if you will!
Either way, it is for me… us… The Erwins… and if I tried to not offend the 70,000 other people who popped over, I'd have to leave each page blank.
So sorry if you are or have been one of those.
And if you haven't… hang tight, today just might be your day!

Thirdly, Read this::  http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rachel-held-evans-/everyones-a-biblical-lite_b_4520676.html
Mainly because there's a grown woman on my FB who constantly writes hateful things, laced with scripture and fancy verbiage.
Her daughter is openly gay, and I find it annoying.
I can't imagine doing that to my kids-- as if the world isn't hateful enough.
Before Kaleb calls me out as a flip-flopper, yes-- I was quick to back Phil from Duck Dynasty.
Why?  Because I think people can have an opinion.  Their own opinion-- especially if they're not being hateful.  And I like that show.  My kids like it too.
Good family fun, no foul language, and a little prayer at the end.
I'm all over it.

People selling stuff.
I know everyone is trying to make a buck-- I get that-- I'm not even annoyed at that in itself.
I have some friends making some serious cash from it… and they're not beating me down to get there.
I truly am proud of them. I am.
It is the ones with the nonstop inspirational junk telling me that I am "stuck" in the same place or not reaching my full potential if I'm not doing what they're doing.
It's rude.
I don't want 15 emails begging me to be on some team-- and I don't want to buy anything either…
As a matter of fact, I didn't even make any New Years resolutions, so quit telling me I did!
You rock your amazing body--
I'll keep wearing my after-baby jeans and praising your success!
From afar.
Without selling anything.  :)

Changing sheets.
My poor baby-- the big one-- is still wetting the bed.
It was only once a month or so, and I guess because I did it until I was in the 1st grade, I originally thought it was normal.
But now that I have a potty trained two year old who NEVER does it, I realize that it might be an actual problem.
He hasn't in the last week but over the holidays it was getting out of hand. I know with all of the running around, he was more tired and sleeping deeper…
however, one can only wash so many sheets, or get drenched themselves in the middle of the night so many times, before getting ugly about it.
And one can only read up on adolescent bed-wetting and the depression and self -esteem issues that can come from it so many times before they feel like loser, doing everything wrong.
I put a diaper over his underwear one night during the 3-night-escapade of tee-teeing, once he had already fallen asleep-- and it broke his heart the next morning when he saw it.
"One" is a bit overwhelmed by it all --not wanting to do medications --knowing that the bed-wetting alarm will wake him about as well as if you were to whisper his name from 3 houses down would, as he sleeps like Lance  --that the bed wetting diapers for big kids obviously aren't an option  --and since we already limit night time drinks AND wake him during the night to make him go… I am out of ideas.
My fear is that he will not be able to spend the night with his friends or be made fun of.
I hate it.

This house.
Is a disaster.
I have said it before and I will say it again… I can't function in chaos.
My Christmas stuff is stacked in the kitchen-- clothes to donate fill up my entry way-- the play room is disgusting--
and I honestly don't know where to start ...or stop.
The selling of the house is still moving forward perfectly.  The house passed inspection and he only asked us to change one tiny thing that cost no money and two minutes of time.
The appraisal is supposedly going to be done this week-- but I still have this crazy worry that it is all going to fall through and I don't want to put the cart in front of the horse and do a whole lot of moving and boxing--
but I also don't want Lance to move all of the Christmas stuff up into the attic, just to move it all back down in two weeks.
So we are living like hoarders eating cat hair.
And we don't even own a cat.

My phone bill was almost as much as my car payment this month.
They're always so friendly when I call, so I hate to even complain--
but something is going on over there…
and I can't figure out what?
I work from my phone, so I have to talk on it but I am going to have to get another part time job to pay this bad boy if it doesn't get better!

I hate how people are so passionate on one side of the margin or the other…
I try to stay midline and off of people's toes but it has been all over my newsfeed lately and tonight I am giving in.

I happen to GIVE then as my JOB.
Something that I gave a lot of time and thought and tears into deciding to do.
I sat in front of my tv and watched the same Oprah episode that millions of others did where Jenny McCarthy planted the original seed of fear in me.
I almost quit my job over it, no lie.
But study, after study, after article, after educated opinion, after research, after on and on and so on…. proved to me that I am indeed helping children and not hurting them.
I had to believe that in my heart to continue doing my job.

The system isn't perfect, I will give you that.
I don't think it is a totally a one-size-fits-all kind of deal, either.
Of course there is a risk-- as there is to strap your kids into the car and drive 75 down the highway or take them into the pool with 50 other splashing kids.
But we do the best we can with what we've got and all have to weigh the risk vs reward.
We all don't have to do it the same.
That's okay.
I don't lash out at people who choose not to vaccinate because I know they have a choice just like I do.
However, I take it personally when people claim that it is a political/ money thing sent on by the government to scare you or other garbage like that.

I love kids.
I can't even tell you how many phone calls and texts I answer every week for friends or "friends of friends" that is completely off the clock and just out of love.
I would never choose a career to intentionally hurt people's children.
The doctors that I work for love kids, they vaccinate their own kids for Pete's sake--
these are people who have answered my own personal calls at dumb hours of the night-- waited up until 2:00am when my son over-dosed, stitched my other child's foot on their kitchen table and offered to drive out to my house (an hour away) to check on my blood pressure.
They aren't about stealing your money.
And I, am certainly not.
So to read any different is offensive to me.

Please understand that I am not lumping all non-vacciners into the same category.
Remember that I split up my vaccines for my kids; slow and steady until they were 2… I get fear.
My friend Jennifer's little boy can't get the flu shot-- he's highly allergic.
There are real reasons to skip some.
But it boggles me that some people let the fear of autism trump the fear of terrible, horrible, nasty, diseases that kill people.
I mean if there was a vaccine that you could get today that guaranteed that you would never have cancer-- or a heart attack-- or diabetes--
People wouldn't think twice.  Because they're real fears.  Most likely you know know someone personally with one of these things and can't imagine how you would deal with that had it happened to your kids-- or husband-- or parent.
But now we are in a generation of people who have not seen these deadly illnesses that killed many many children just decades previous, so it isn't real to us anymore.
Thankfully, vaccines did that for us!!

I believe that it is a personal decision, and I had to let my fear of the unknown be trumped by the self-awareness that I would never forgive myself if I ever watched my baby take their last breath over something I could have prevented.
I know me.

For that, I am the first to tell mom's to "follow their mommy gut"-- chances are, if you have ever called me for medical advice, I have said that to you more than once.  I believe that there is a lot to be said for mother's intuition.
I also know that as moms we worry about every little thing and question are every decision we make… while letting ideas from uneducated sources (like a reality tv star) creep into our thoughts and drown us.
Though I do not think it is smart, I am not offended by the choice not to vaccinate-- that's not what I am getting at here…

My point is that it should be a personal (family) decision… and one where the nurses and doctors aren't painted as bad guys, using your kids as bait to gain a quick buck.
To me, that is ludicrous and insulting.

So there.
I am pretty sure I have aired the majority of my negative energy, stepped on more toes than a packed dance floor and my stomach is in knots, just getting it all out.

I am off to bed-- because not only does my neck hurt, but my left thumb is numb and throbbing.

On one final note-- today marks the one year anniversary to Beckham's over-dose.
So take this as your friendly reminder to clean out your medicine cabinet and make sure you are using child-proof bottles-- kept way out of reach!!

Your girl, Negative Nancy--

Tuesday, January 7, 2014


We are a week into the new year and I am already behind on blogging!
I have kind of been in a bad mood with illnesses, a house in shambles, and trying to convince myself that 2014 was actually the year of the horse and not the year of the divorce!

I wanted to be in better spirits before I started typing, and tonight I finally am!

Maddox spent the day before NYE in bed, running a low grade fever and finished it off by vomiting.
Lance was run down and achy, but they both popped out of it the next day.

Lance skipped right past me at the stroke of midnight and traded Mommy kisses for Maddox and Beckham kisses--
and then my mom and I burned not one but TWO batches of cabbage the following day,
So per the superstitions; things weren't starting well.

My aunt Monica, Uncle John, cousins Courtney and Johnny, and her baby Sydney, flew in from South Carolina--
We all stayed the night at my mom's on NYE and played games and snacked and laughed.
My brother's family were sick so they weren't able to come-- and were missed,
but we still had a great time together.

New Year's day we ate our black-eyed peas and slightly-seared cabbage along with a big, yummy, traditional meal….
and then went out and walked our land.
The weather was amazing and the boys had a blast!
Maddox brought string, which he said that it was good in case of a bear attack!
Luckily, we didn't encounter any!!

Thursday we met up with Candace and her crew at Chickfila.
I realize that we eat there a lot. 
And thankfully, it was mild trip. 

Friday, our friends The Ponce's drove an hour to jump with us!
It was the first time that I have seen it crowded-- since we usually go during toddler time and share the entire building with about 10 one-year-olds.  But at least it gave Maddox a chance to play with kids his age for once.  They played more games than they could count in dodge ball-- and he had a blast with Lucas; who is so sweet to him.
Katie is so tiny and cute and she played in there with the best of them!!
Sometimes she got the game, and sometimes she pranced around like the princess she is without regard to their silly rules.
B… whined.
The entire time.
He didn't care one thing about jumping, but instead spent the majority of our 3 hours there watching Mickey Mouse on my phone.
Thankfully Amanda doesn't judge--
and she has a 2nd kid too…
and in true form, they both shed a few tears!
We laugh now at our years of growth, where we finally can just ignore and move on!!
We also laughed at how pathetically out of shape we are.
I was sore for 3 days afterward!

Saturday my mom, my sister, Beckham, and I went and had lunch and then went to look through houses being built for ideas, while Lance and Maddox worked on Lance's truck with his dad.
It was a lot of fun.
And overwhelming.
I'm thinking about just letting her be me and let me know when it is all finished and ready!
Or robbing a bank so that I can afford the land work, the house I really want, the well, the road, a designer while we are at it, and a maid.
I'm kidding…
Kind of.

Sunday I was on call.
Flu is here.
I hope all my loved ones got their flu shots because it is already proving to be a terribly bad season.

Monday was our honey-in-love, Audrey's, birthday.
The boys bought her a little Webkin's puppy and a balloon and we met her and the rest of the Addington clan at CFA (once again) for a little celebration.

You know we can write a book on our adventures to that place.
This trip was no exception.
First of all, Maddox insisted that he wear these glasses with the fake mustache.  He seriously thought he fooled people into thinking he was a 40 year old when he put them on and even asked if I thought people would think he was the owner of the store!!  We got tickled watching him giggle at himself and say, "it never gets old" as he slid into character.
Then things got dicey as Ellie came out of the play area holding her inner thigh (almost up to her private place) telling us that a little girl just bit her.
Candace yelped, "she BIT you??  ........THERE????"
And we turn around to see to culprit, who-- I kid you not, is covered in a rash that neither Candace nor myself (who have a combined pediatric nurse experience of almost 2 decades) have never seen.
It was awful... and head to toe.
We were thankful that Ellie was up to date on her vaccines, and said a little prayer that it wasn't infectious.
Not ten minutes later, the birthday girl comes out holding her cheek, saying a little boy pinched her.
When I saw this little hood-rat peeking around the corner, I was thankful that is all that happened to her.  He might have been in a gang for toddlers... seriously, he had a gold chain and everything... like a little mini Eminen! And I'm scared that his next move might have been to shank her!
Luckily it wasn't his first assault of the day and the mom decided to pack him up and leave on that note.
Then there was the fireman who all but asked Candace to marry him.
How do we know he was a fireman... because he worked it into the conversation twice-- as well as telling Candace what he spent on Christmas, while following her around the place awkwardly begging for more conversation.
B left the place with a huge scratch across his face and two on his back, and I have no idea where they came from, but my money's on the little rapper?
Which brings us back full circle to Maddox-- who punched the fireman's kid in the stomach.
You read that right.
My child, who I have worried will be bullied and ran over once he starts school, whopped a kid for growling at he and Ellie in their face like a lion.
I wasn't even mad-- I was too wore out and shocked I think-- and Aunt Candace had already made him apologize and got on to him by the time I found out.
Secretly I was a little proud that he was taking up for a girl-- although the kid didn't cry so he proved he's a rookie...
A 40 year old rookie; who's probably now in a gang.

The boys and I slid over to Target for groceries, which is about as fun as a pap smear-- and then we called it a day!

That night call was eerily slow and B was ultra whiny...
Lance was over it and down to his last whimper of patience, but my mommy instincts knew there was more to it...
At 3:00am he proved my intuitions true and vomited all over our bed... again at 4:00am... and he spent the rest of the day laying on me, crying, moaning, telling everyone who came near him that he didn't like them, and sleeping.

He vomited again tonight, then got a tiny boost of energy, and finally crashed at the end of his bed for [hopefully] the night.

Lance cleaned the entire kitchen for me without me asking and I finally got a chance to sit-- alone.

Tomorrow, my mom is coming over to help me start packing and tossing--
I can't believe this is still real!

2014.  It is here.