A Bit of Gratitude. So it’s been nearly a week since I’ve written and I can attribute that to the plague that has hit my home. Or so it feels. I was up four nights last week with sick kids. The last of which ended up in an ambulance ride to the hospital after my son had yet another seizure due to rapid fever onset. After four nights of no sleep and then being at the hospital till four, I shockingly developed the flu which has now turned into a wicked head-cold. But I must find something to be thankful during this time despite the fact that my nose is so red that if I were to sport some antlers I would likely be mistaken for Rudolf. So here it goes. I am so very thankful that my mom is visiting and taking my daughter to school and doing laundry and buying groceries and cooking dinner. Because if she wasn’t here I would be doing all of that on top of my trying to cope with an ever-growing head-cold and as much fun as I have known that to be I am much happier having her take care of me while I crash on the couch and catch up on episodes of the Vampire Diaries. I am also grateful that I shopped like a madwoman when my Mom first arrived last week and got all my Christmas shopping done. Because even though I can’t hear and my head is horribly fuzzy I at least don’t have the stress of having to shop! Ok enough pity party, let’s move on to something much more amusing.
Be Prepared. Ok well actually since I was just on the topic of being sick, let me tell you a ditty about our hospital visit. So back in October we spent way too much time having to quickly pack bags and run my son to the hospital. After which I decided the best thing to do was “be prepared”. So I did just that. I prepared several bags for us. One bag for each of my children with a complete set of change of clothes, extra mittens, you name it. I also packed a bag of snacks for the kids. I threw in a case of water and a small backpack of toys all in the back of my van. My thought was that if I ever had to run to the hospital on a moments notice, I would be prepared. It also turned out to be great when one of my kids lots a mitten or I forgot to grab a scarf on the way out the door. I had toys when we were out at a restaurant and had snacks when the kids didn’t like the menu items. I was a freaking Beaver Scout let me tell you. Prepared, prepared, prepared! But here I was last Friday night reading in bed, with my two-year old asleep next to me when he suddenly had a seizure and I was on the phone to 911. Shortly thereafter we were on our way to the hospital by ambulance and I had no emergency bags with me. Why? Because they were in the back of my van. The van which was at soccer practice with my husband. Hmmm, best made plans…Anyways, it turned out ok because my husband came to the hospital but now I feel like I may need back-up bags for the back-up bags. Oh and here is the best part of my trip. My wardrobe. That’s right, my awesome ‘pajamas’ that I was wearing when the paramedics arrived. Which I didn’t even think about until about three hours later when I looked down at my sorry self and just shook my head. You see I don’t really own any pajamas. I used to have a lot of pjs but then I lost a bunch of weight and none of them fit anymore. Which is obviously a good thing. But buying new ones just hasn’t been on my priority list. So instead I just throw something together. On the night in question it was the t-shirt I wear when I dye my hair. An awesome old ratty white t-shirt covered in brown hair dye. And for pajama bottoms I was wearing an old pair of maternity bottoms. So as I was walking around the hospital in what looked like the dirtiest t-shirt ever, I also had the crotch of the pajama bottom’s hanging at my knees. Awesome! I think Santa might need to grab me a pair or two of pjs for Christmas.
The Twelve Days of Whack-a-Mole. So today we attended my daughter’s school Christmas concert. I’m not going to gush about how cute the 5 year olds all looked singing Little Toy Trains in their pjs or how adorable my son was because he just had to wear pjs to the concert too, just like his big sister (oops). No instead I’ll share a little story that I like to call the “Human Whack-a-Mole”. You know the ‘whack-a-mole’ game right? The one at the arcades or carnivals where moles pop up out of holes and you whack them with your hammer? Well that was me. Along with about 200 other parents and kids at today’s concert. Here’s the scene. The music teacher tells us that we are all going to sing the Twelve Days of Christmas, only every time a number is mentioned it is going to correspond with a birthday month. So when we sing “On the First day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…” all the people with January birthdays have to stand up. And so on and so forth. Only we have to do it every time your number is mentioned. And if you remember the song, you add a number every stanza and then count down again. So it looked something like this:
[Shay stand up] “On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me four colly birds, [Shay sit down Kelly stand up], three french hens, [Kelly sit down, Steve stand up] two turtle doves, [Steve sit down, Grandma stand up], and a partridge in a pair tree”. [Grandma sit down, random person next to me stand up] “On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me , five golden rings, [random person sit down, Shay stand up] four colly birds, [Shay sit down Kelly stand up], three french hens, [Kelly sit down, Steve stand up] two turtle doves, [Steve sit down, Grandma stand up], and a partridge in a pair tree” and so on and so on. My friend emailed me tonight saying she will never, ever, for the rest of her life, forget my birthday month after going through that!
Seriously, try this at home with your family. It is truly like a human whack a mole game. I couldn’t help but laugh. It was silly and we all looked ridiculous. But I think deep down everyone had a lot of fun.
I’m pretty sure I had another funny story to share but my head is becoming more and more cloudy and my thoughts are making less and less sense. So I am going to attempt to get a good night’s rest in hopes of a clear head tomorrow.
Until I write again…