Well, in our desire to post meaningful sentimental thoughtful heartfelt beautiful things on our blog in honor of our 2nd Adoption Day, we have been denying you -- our dear readers -- the down and dirty (read: not so beautiful) truth about what's been going on here at the Johnson-McCormick Family Homestead for the past three days. Now that the Adoption Day Lovliness is over you have to deal with the inside scoop on high fevers puke parental stress and other unpleasantries! Ha! Just when you thought everything was all warm and fuzzy lovely lovely!!!
Monday, from all reports, everything was great at daycare. Around 6:00pm I was making supper and Braydon was with the boys upstairs supervising while K & O were playing their new favorite sport: Jump Like Maniacs Over And Over Off Of Owen's Bed While Holding As Many Stuffed Animals In Your Arms As Possible. According to Braydon, suddenly, in the midst of the maniacal jumping, Kyle picked up Hunny Bunny and Sheep, matter-of-factly announced "I'm sick," and walked out of Owen's room. It was then that we knew something was seriously wrong.
By 6:30pm Braydon thought he should take Ky Ky's temperature: 102. Ugh. By 7:00 Ky Ky had puked up all his supper. Nice. By 8:00 he was in bed. At 3:30am the ear thermometer was reading 106.4 and we were having a hard time remaining calm.
By 10:30 Tuesday morning Braydon and I had cancelled everything for our workdays, Owen was at daycare, and Ky Ky was at the doctor's office with both of his anxious parents. Antibiotics were prescribed. And we've been battling the yuckies ever since. He's on the mend, and doing fine (no worries, he's okay), but our life has been thrown into a terrible out-of-control spiral.
We feel like we're barely managing (or as we think of it: "living on the edge" -- i.e., the edge of dispair/disfunction/disaster) all the time... but when one of us (or any combination of us) gets sick EVERYTHING falls apart. And I mean, everything. Kyle's a trooper: he's not a whiner when he's sick, he's just a boy-who-needs-to-be-held-by-his-mama-24x7 when he's sick. Braydon and I have been trying to make due by tag-teaming and working from home and cancelling whatever we can, but it is TOUGH. We're now on Day Three of this try-to-swing-it-and-look-like-a-professional-but-prioritize-your-kid-too thing. And poor Owen. Honestly I feel worse for him than his brother: it just sucks to have to go to daycare alone for three days in a row. And there just is nothing worse than being neglected because your twin brother is getting all the energy. Owen is a sweetie, and he handles it about as well as any two year old could possibly be expected to handle it. But really, it is all such a big bummer for him. And worst of all, this whole case of the yuckies has centered right smack around our Adoption Day. For us, our family Adoption Day is big. It is bigger than birthdays or anniversaries or most major holidays. And this year's did not go as planned: it has been a big drag.
The highlight of this whole thing (so far) was definately last night. We had been planning to go out to dinner to celebrate our Adoption Day. Braydon and Owen and Kyle were determined to make it happen. I was a little hesitant given that Kyle was still not even close to 100%... but I went along with it. We arrived at the restaurant and were seated at a great booth. Our server had just taken our drink order and was off to fetch it for us: 2 chocolate milks and 2 sangrias... now that's the way to celebrate in style! And then it started: the PUKE. Poor Ky Ky threw up everwhere. All over the table, all over the booster seat, all over the leather cushions of our lovely booth... and... all over himself... and... all over his Papi. It just kept coming and coming and coming -- it was dripping off of the table and dripping off of little Ky Ky and his Papi. Owen was just sitting in his little booster seat, scared, saying: "What's happened? What's happened Mama??" I was desperately trying to get Kyle out of the booth. Braydon was trying to wipe up puke with linen napkins. The rest of the restaurant (jam packed full during prime dinner time) was watching our family with distraught dazed looks on their faces.
We got outta there as quickly as possible. Me holding Kyle, both of us now covered in puke, and Kyle saying, "Mama, I threw up" over and over and over. Braydon holding Owen, both of them now covered in puke, and Owen crying loudly saying, "I can't ready to go-- I want my chocolate milk, I want my pasta, I want my chocolate milk, I want my pasta" over and over and over. Can you picture it? Happy Adoption Day Johnson-McCormicks!
Monday, from all reports, everything was great at daycare. Around 6:00pm I was making supper and Braydon was with the boys upstairs supervising while K & O were playing their new favorite sport: Jump Like Maniacs Over And Over Off Of Owen's Bed While Holding As Many Stuffed Animals In Your Arms As Possible. According to Braydon, suddenly, in the midst of the maniacal jumping, Kyle picked up Hunny Bunny and Sheep, matter-of-factly announced "I'm sick," and walked out of Owen's room. It was then that we knew something was seriously wrong.
By 6:30pm Braydon thought he should take Ky Ky's temperature: 102. Ugh. By 7:00 Ky Ky had puked up all his supper. Nice. By 8:00 he was in bed. At 3:30am the ear thermometer was reading 106.4 and we were having a hard time remaining calm.
By 10:30 Tuesday morning Braydon and I had cancelled everything for our workdays, Owen was at daycare, and Ky Ky was at the doctor's office with both of his anxious parents. Antibiotics were prescribed. And we've been battling the yuckies ever since. He's on the mend, and doing fine (no worries, he's okay), but our life has been thrown into a terrible out-of-control spiral.
We feel like we're barely managing (or as we think of it: "living on the edge" -- i.e., the edge of dispair/disfunction/disaster) all the time... but when one of us (or any combination of us) gets sick EVERYTHING falls apart. And I mean, everything. Kyle's a trooper: he's not a whiner when he's sick, he's just a boy-who-needs-to-be-held-by-his-mama-24x7 when he's sick. Braydon and I have been trying to make due by tag-teaming and working from home and cancelling whatever we can, but it is TOUGH. We're now on Day Three of this try-to-swing-it-and-look-like-a-professional-but-prioritize-your-kid-too thing. And poor Owen. Honestly I feel worse for him than his brother: it just sucks to have to go to daycare alone for three days in a row. And there just is nothing worse than being neglected because your twin brother is getting all the energy. Owen is a sweetie, and he handles it about as well as any two year old could possibly be expected to handle it. But really, it is all such a big bummer for him. And worst of all, this whole case of the yuckies has centered right smack around our Adoption Day. For us, our family Adoption Day is big. It is bigger than birthdays or anniversaries or most major holidays. And this year's did not go as planned: it has been a big drag.
The highlight of this whole thing (so far) was definately last night. We had been planning to go out to dinner to celebrate our Adoption Day. Braydon and Owen and Kyle were determined to make it happen. I was a little hesitant given that Kyle was still not even close to 100%... but I went along with it. We arrived at the restaurant and were seated at a great booth. Our server had just taken our drink order and was off to fetch it for us: 2 chocolate milks and 2 sangrias... now that's the way to celebrate in style! And then it started: the PUKE. Poor Ky Ky threw up everwhere. All over the table, all over the booster seat, all over the leather cushions of our lovely booth... and... all over himself... and... all over his Papi. It just kept coming and coming and coming -- it was dripping off of the table and dripping off of little Ky Ky and his Papi. Owen was just sitting in his little booster seat, scared, saying: "What's happened? What's happened Mama??" I was desperately trying to get Kyle out of the booth. Braydon was trying to wipe up puke with linen napkins. The rest of the restaurant (jam packed full during prime dinner time) was watching our family with distraught dazed looks on their faces.
We got outta there as quickly as possible. Me holding Kyle, both of us now covered in puke, and Kyle saying, "Mama, I threw up" over and over and over. Braydon holding Owen, both of them now covered in puke, and Owen crying loudly saying, "I can't ready to go-- I want my chocolate milk, I want my pasta, I want my chocolate milk, I want my pasta" over and over and over. Can you picture it? Happy Adoption Day Johnson-McCormicks!
No comments:
Post a Comment