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!?"

Blessings in Contrast

Check out these dance moves

My daughter is a typical three year old. She tests boundaries, has limited awareness of where her limbs are, and unbridled exuberance when something appeals to her. She is a little ball of energy barely tempered by the knowledge that there are somethings that have consequences... if mommy catches her doing it. If she could get away with it she would prance, dance, and run headlong through life.
Yesterday we were at Chick-fil-a, the mom mecca, as my sister-in-law calls it, and it was time for us to go. I had two bags on one shoulder and my 20 lbs one year old on the opposite hip. I stopped at the counter to get a refill on my caffeination, aka sweet tea, therefore all my hands were occupied.

"I'm ready to go now."

Baby girl had a monster truck that one of my children had smuggled in from the car. This in hand, she took off down the length of the counter, barely dodging a young couple, driving this truck at top speed. I apologized and called her back to me. Instead of walking back to me, the way someone in my brain that fails to learn from past experiences expected her to, she turned, verbally revving the trucks engine, and shot back down the counter, startling a woman as she dodged in front of her and that same couple that I had already apologized to before stopping at my side. I look up, second apology on my lips but before I could do more than stutter the woman looks right at me and says, "How can you let your child run wild?!"...
Me, the couple, and the kid behind the counter all just stared at her for a few shocked moments as my brain tried to process what she had just said. I was hurt, embarrassed, and beginning to feel indignant.

My oldest sons 7th birthday, we went to
Chick-fil-a after school and got a
sweet suprise.

The couple were the first to recover and looking my way said softly, "That was so rude!" to which the kid behind the counter replied, "That was totally uncalled for."
Their votes of solidarity brought the air back to my lungs. And I walked out with my head held high thankful that those kind of people were the ones that I typically found in Chick-fil-a.
Chick-fil-a is a safe place for me and other moms. The staff knows us by name, opens the door for me when I have to drag fussing children out of the building, and always offers a smile when I ask for anything, no matter how bizarre. The other customers are typically good humored, understanding, and willing to pardon unintended offenses committed by my children.

Cow Appreciation Day 2015

So what I want to say to this woman, who it feels called every fiber of my motherhood into question, is thank you, Thank you for reminding me why I come here, why I feel so comfortable here, and for laying out in stark contrasts the loving and patient people that I find every day. I don't know what your day had been like but I hope that at the end of it you feel half as loved and blessed as I do every day.