It didn't really feel like Easter to us this year, since we missed the most important part. You know, the Easter service at church?
"Why did we miss it?" you ask. Well, standing in the dugout on Saturday morning 30 minutes before game time for our softball tournament, Roman proceeds to puke all over himself. So, we made a mad dash for home, hoping we'd make it before he got sick again. We arrived home just in time for him to continue puking in the grass. By lunchtime, he had a fever of 102, and he slept for a few hours. He felt better and played outside in the afternoon but felt a little warm when he went to bed last night.
We decided to keep our stomach virus to ourselves, so we stayed home for Easter. We did go for a walk and played outside in the afternoon. By the way, the girls won their softball game 3-0 against the No. 1 ranked 4A team in the state, West Johnston. I'm so proud of them!
The funniest story I can give you for the weekend though is this:
Tim told Roman when we put him to bed that he couldn't come out of his room again last night or the Easter bunny wouldn't come see him. The thought of course was that he'd walk back down the hallway and find his surprises. So a few hours later Roman yelled from his room that he had to potty. I got to his room and told him that he should come on and use the bathroom to which Roman replies, "I can't leave my room Mommy! That rabbit won't come visit!"
Happy Easter everyone!!
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Monday, March 17, 2008
5 AM...Blood everywhere!?!?!
Raiden has never been a good sleeper, so I often find my self in a slow stupor, feeling my way through our dark house to get a cup of milk out of the fridge. Sounds simple yet, it isn't. I have to quietly avoid the detection of my 3-year that is snoring loudly over the humdrum of his aquarium that I meant to fill with water 3 days ago. Next, I have to straddle a 3-foot gate between the hallway and the den. It guards the bedrooms from our loving yet annoying 6 year old mutt named Tic-tac, who although well meaning, wants to snuggle under the covers on cold winter nights, but wakes the house with her night time frolics for water or food. Once I've reached the bright light of the refrigerator, I can only see bright spots as I try to pour milk in a sippy cup, trying not to overfill the cup, I realize that once again, I've left only enough milk in the jug to fill the cup half full, or half empty depending on your position in life. I reach for a new jug only to battle the blindness of the light inside the fridge again. As I'm trying to make sure the top is back on, Raiden's wails grow louder and louder.
I head back through my obstacle course of toys and stacks of clean clothes and jump the gate while the dog groans loudly behind me. Of course, I've awoken the sleeping menace and I must jump back across the gate to let the dog outside before the entire house is awaken. I wait impatiently for the dog that only stares in the coolness of the morning back up at the closed door. I realize the dog doesn't need to use the bathroom; she just wants to invade the comforts of my bed. I let the dog back inside and it's a mad dash to the hallway. Man vs. beast...of course the dog wins. Now, here I am trying to get the dog back into the den, I'm trying to use my stern, intimidating voice to get the dog to abide by my whispered commands, while Raiden is still screaming "bloody murder", my 3 year old is still in dream land, and my husband probably has a pillow over his head.
With a little persuasion, I achieve my objective and pull the pocket door shut behind the dog. She's resigned the fact that she will be able to join the comforts of my bed and quiets down behind the door, as I move back down the hallway. I open the door to Raiden's room and walk over to his crib, where he has begun to soothe as he sees his rescuer in all her early morning beauty arriving to free him from his caged bed. As I pull him over the crib rail, he rests his little head on my shoulder and wraps his arms around me. Ahhh, those sweet moments in the night!
We arrive in my bedroom, as I've said this is a fairly usual occurrence, and begin to get all tucked in. As I reach to put his sippy cup to his mouth, the light from my son's aquarium across the hall displays an unusual finding. What is that under his nose?!? As I look closer, it appears to be on his forehead as well. I reach for the light as I bellow out, "Is this puke or blood?" My sleep-deprived husband turns over and suggests, "Kool-Aid!" A common beverage for our house, if there were no Kool-Aid, what would we drink? As the light sheds a little truth to the scene, I begin rambling about the impossibilities of this idea. "There's no way it could be Kool-Aid, he hasn't had any since Saturday," I recollect. "BLOOD!" I identify it as if an intruder has just entered our home. We scan the 18 month old, who's still blinking from the bright light that has interrupted his sleepiness, trying to find the source of this bloodshed. From his nose oozed a little blood, and by the time my husband is able to get a wet washcloth, the bleeding is beginning to cease.
A quick call to my parents confirmed the idea that had first come to mind. My dad had experienced nosebleeds the previous week, due to sinus problems, so we had a pretty good idea that this situation had the same culprit.
To sum it all up, a prescription from the doctor and one sick day later, Raiden is on his way to recovery. I guess I'll never quite get used to the surprises of parenthood, but then, what kinds of stories would I have to tell without them?
I head back through my obstacle course of toys and stacks of clean clothes and jump the gate while the dog groans loudly behind me. Of course, I've awoken the sleeping menace and I must jump back across the gate to let the dog outside before the entire house is awaken. I wait impatiently for the dog that only stares in the coolness of the morning back up at the closed door. I realize the dog doesn't need to use the bathroom; she just wants to invade the comforts of my bed. I let the dog back inside and it's a mad dash to the hallway. Man vs. beast...of course the dog wins. Now, here I am trying to get the dog back into the den, I'm trying to use my stern, intimidating voice to get the dog to abide by my whispered commands, while Raiden is still screaming "bloody murder", my 3 year old is still in dream land, and my husband probably has a pillow over his head.
With a little persuasion, I achieve my objective and pull the pocket door shut behind the dog. She's resigned the fact that she will be able to join the comforts of my bed and quiets down behind the door, as I move back down the hallway. I open the door to Raiden's room and walk over to his crib, where he has begun to soothe as he sees his rescuer in all her early morning beauty arriving to free him from his caged bed. As I pull him over the crib rail, he rests his little head on my shoulder and wraps his arms around me. Ahhh, those sweet moments in the night!
We arrive in my bedroom, as I've said this is a fairly usual occurrence, and begin to get all tucked in. As I reach to put his sippy cup to his mouth, the light from my son's aquarium across the hall displays an unusual finding. What is that under his nose?!? As I look closer, it appears to be on his forehead as well. I reach for the light as I bellow out, "Is this puke or blood?" My sleep-deprived husband turns over and suggests, "Kool-Aid!" A common beverage for our house, if there were no Kool-Aid, what would we drink? As the light sheds a little truth to the scene, I begin rambling about the impossibilities of this idea. "There's no way it could be Kool-Aid, he hasn't had any since Saturday," I recollect. "BLOOD!" I identify it as if an intruder has just entered our home. We scan the 18 month old, who's still blinking from the bright light that has interrupted his sleepiness, trying to find the source of this bloodshed. From his nose oozed a little blood, and by the time my husband is able to get a wet washcloth, the bleeding is beginning to cease.
A quick call to my parents confirmed the idea that had first come to mind. My dad had experienced nosebleeds the previous week, due to sinus problems, so we had a pretty good idea that this situation had the same culprit.
To sum it all up, a prescription from the doctor and one sick day later, Raiden is on his way to recovery. I guess I'll never quite get used to the surprises of parenthood, but then, what kinds of stories would I have to tell without them?
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