Trouble Comes in Threes

     You know that saying that trouble comes in threes? Well I believe it! Three days, three kids, three different illnesses. I'm just praying that it doesn't get shared three ways because this thing could initiate a geometric growth pattern before you could bleach the first door knob.

Child one, day one, illness one:

      Friday night, or more correctly early Saturday morning my youngest started throwing up. He felt a little warm but I didn't think feverish. I sat up with him all night remembering how a mere six hours previously he had been having a grand old time sticking his pacifier in my mouth.

      'What was that? Is my stomach growling or groaning? Do I feel queasy or is it just that someone has been throwing up on me all night?'

     Parenthood is hypochondria, always trying to not overthink yourself into a self induced illness and yet subvert illnesses as quickly as possible because... you're a parent. 

     The little prince was grumpy from lack of sleep but ate well and kept it all down the next day. No one else showed any similar symptoms until..

Child two, day two, illness two:

     My oldest boy started to complain of a headache on Saturday afternoon. It was bad enough that he didn't eat much dinner and went to bed with little fuss, which is the true indication of illness.

     'Did the little one start with a headache? How would I know? What does a one year old with a headache look like? I bet sweet boy starts throwing up around midnight. It's most likely the same thing.'

     The headache kept him from sleeping, only abating with Tylenol, and lasted through Sunday night. I finally called the nurse and she recommended sleep and bringing him in tomorrow if he still had it in the morning. He was fine the next morning.

     Parenthood is over analyzing every possible symptom. If you can catch it early maybe it won't spread to the rest of us, and then back and to the rest of us and... you get the picture. 

      So we survived the weekend, everyone's healthy again... right?

 Child three, day three, illness three:

      Both boys are finally rested up from their interrupted nights. We all head our separate ways on Monday morning. When I pick up baby girl she seems lethargic.

     'Maybe she was kept up while the boys were sick and hasn't caught up yet? Maybe her allergies are acting up? Maybe she's really hungry.'

     We all lie down for afternoon naps, baby girl wanted to cuddle so I inevitable drift off as well. When I wake up, because it's time to pick up the oldest from school, I notice that she feels HOT! I rush us all into the car, pick up my oldest.
    Once he is in the car I call their pediatrician and sit on hold. Meanwhile I run by the house for a thermometer, some Tylenol, which is becoming a hot commodity in our household, and our forgotten lunch (one asleep in the car on the way home, the other asleep while we waited for Daddy to eat with us = no lunch til 3:30 pm).

     Her temp is 102. Headache? A little. Stomach ache? Not really. Link to the boys? None that I can see.

     About this time I'm finally off hold and get an appointment.

     The verdict: Strep… which we had less than a month ago… which is not known for causing headaches that go away or vomiting. Of course, it is something totally different.

     I have them test the little prince for good measure (the oldest was with his Dad since taking three to the doctor is a nightmare of epic proportions), and stare open mouthed when the doctor confirms that as far as she can tell, they all have had different things.

     Three days…three unrelated problems… one half glance at what my future self would look like if they all pass these around was enough to make me slam a mental door on that thought and try to figure out how none of these could be transferable.

     'Maybe they all had a cold and it opened them up to be susceptible to different secondary problems? They aren't sharing cups. No one else should get strep, right? Maybe the little one had food poisoning and the oldest had allergies. Those aren't really catchable illnesses. They can't all get all of these things?' 

     Parenthood is coming up with reasons when what you see defies reason, or logic, or what you think you can survive. 

Parenthood, when you put it all together, is calling your mom to ask,"How in the world is this even possible!?"

If you spill a box of spaghetti...

     I knew I was too tired to function when I absentmindedly leaned over to straighten the baby gate and poured out half a box of dry spaghetti.
     I know the box was closed when I bought it, children had put it in the cart and on the conveyor at check-out, and no open package will survive that. Also I was pretty sure that it had been closed moments before when I had fished it out of the bags in the car and walked in with it, which was just before the moment that I had leaned over to fix the baby gate. Therefore I must have opened said box somewhere between the car and the house without knowing it.
     A mom on autopilot is not a good thing... in so many ways.

They look harmless...

     After I finished taking care of cooking the rest of the spaghetti, (I was making dinner for our church so it really couldn't be put off), I herded all the kids into my middle childs room, the neatest, most baby friendly room in the house, handed the kids an ipod with instructions to watch two Mickey Mouse cartoons, no more, (that's all we had time for before we needed to leave for church,) and lay down on the floor to take a power nap.
     The older two were happy with the cartoon and the youngest went back and forth between bothering his siblings and poking at me. In spite of all this, and the fact that I was lying on the floor, I was out in no time. A testament to how deep my exhaustion went.
     A blissful and peaceful moment.
     I was suddenly very awake when a vaguely familiar shooting pain exploded from my nose. The familiar feeling was my youngest son shoving his finger as hard as he could up my nose. I wish I could say this was the first time this had ever happened, but I can't.  I can say that this was the first time that I had woken up to it, though. I wish I knew why he did it, but I don't. I even wish that I could say that I woke up kindly and without shoving the assaulting infant away from me, but yeah right.

I got your nose!

     Well, now I was awake, very awake, and I knew what was coming next, my nose was bleeding, majorly bleeding. As I attempted to staunch, or catch, or divert the flow from my clothes, my children, and/or the carpet, my oldest began to freak out. He doesn't like blood. Trying to speak over the budding hysterics and dripping, I asked him to get toilet paper, or a washcloth, or anything from the other room for me.
     This is where it got interesting.
     I hear the clunk clunk of the doorknob, and the worried, "Uhhhh" of my son. "It's locked." he says.
     'That's crazy, who would lock the door, while we were all on the inside'.
     The spaghetti incident did not bode well for that train of thought so I moved on to train of thought B-
     'Can't be'.
     Assuming that he was just over reacting to the blood I fumble for the knob myself and find that it indeed is locked.

     Locked...
     My phone... in the other room...
     My husband... on his way to church
     The lockpick... not above the door

     In quick succession all my solutions were flying out the door that I couldn't get open.
     So I sat there, dripping blood, trying to figure out how to use the ipod to get a message to my husband while the kids scoured the room for something long and thin enough to pick the lock.

     Did I mention that this was the cleanest, most baby friendly room in the house?

     No such luck.

     One of the older ones had smuggled in one of the sticks of spaghetti, I had missed a few when I cleaned up the first disaster of the afternoon, but the piece was a little too short and I was afraid it would break off in the lock and ruin all of our future chances.
     Finally my eyes lit on the window.

     Had I left the front door unlocked?

     It was the one window with no screen so that wasn't the problem. Would I be able to fit my large bleeding self through that opening, into the rose bush that was planted just in front of it?

     No way.

     But my oldest could fit!
     I lowered him out the window, and around the bush, trying not to bleed on him... where he would see it... and he ran around the corner of the house.
     A few long seconds later we hear the rattle of the door knob, this time from the outside and resolving with that beautiful final clunk that meant that it was now unlocked.
     "I rescued you!" he exclaimed as he bounced through the door.

     Nodding to his self accolades I run to the shower to clean off and to avoid making a bigger mess while the bleeding stopped. Soon all was cleaned up and we were finally on our way.

Best excuse...ever.

     This is why dinner for the church was late but...
 
 you have to admit that this is one of the best excuses you've heard in a really, really, long time.

I Love You a Lifetime Worth

     I have known my husband since I was 17 years old. I was just coming out of the awkward, breaking into the unknown, and making as many stupid mistakes as I thought could get away with. I was selfish, a little vain, unsure of my place in the world, and moving into adulthood as trepidatiously as I could without losing face.

2003- K11 Formal

     I know that the girl that he met then cannot be the same one he wakes up to every morning. I am nearly 15 years older, three children older, and several heart breaking losses older. Each of these things have lined my face, my body, and my mind in their own relentless but gentle way. Life has carried me softly through these years and I can only hope that in time the sharp edges of my faith and personality will round out into the gentle curves that my body has. 

     I am still selfish, a little more thoughtful, demanding of those closest to me, and always striving to overcome the long list of shortcomings I am painfully aware of in myself and in doing so exhaust myself.

2005- At a friends wedding the
day after we got engaged.

     The steadfastness of my husband's love and desire for me through what I feel are drastic changes astounds me. It is on occasion both breathtaking and confounding to me. He doesn't see the faults as I do, as glaring errors in my general make up that flaw the whole. They are side effects of the things that he loves about me, my fierce spirit, my love for people, my vast but limited energy, and my desire to lead us all the be better people.

     I have never seen him hesitate to profess his love for me or flinch away from my body even in the distortions, the icky-ness, and the awkwardness that can come during pregnancy. Don't misunderstand me, pregnancy and the pregnant form is profound and beautiful, but it is messy, painful, and humbling too. A husband gets to see what the maternity photos don't show. The nausea, the blood, and all the other less photogenic side effects of this marvelous time.

2005- Silliness on our
wedding day

     So in this short little post here I want to thank the Lord for blessing me with a man that is more than I deserve, all that I need, and sometimes as much I can stand. And I want to thank Daniel for his patience, his desire for God, and his unyielding love for me. These years would have been a bleak shadow compare to what they were without you there in the midst of them. 

     Here is to another two weeks, another year, another decade. I love you a lifetime worth and I am so happy to be called your wife.

2015