Safe Kids Fair and Another Instacare Trip

We ventured out of the house.  All of us -- to an actual public place!  It was awesome.  Um, until we were there for a half hour of nonstop Isaac-screaming, so I left to take him to Instacare.  Of course.  :-)

Let me start over though.  So, every February, we try and go to the "Safe Kids Fair" at the Expo Center.  We didn't make it last year, I think due to swine flu or something, so once it seemed like everyone was well enough, I was excited we'd be able to make it this year.  My Mom, Dad, my sister Talina, her husband David, and my sister Star, all met up with Greg, the kids and I on Saturday afternoon to explore the fair.  Actually, the kids and I had gone for a few hours on Friday as well -- it's free, so why not?  Greg met up with us after work, and with the 'snow storm', the place was fairly vacant and we were able to climb around in helicopters, do the bike rodeo and play in fire trucks without ever waiting in line.  But, because this has become such a fun tradition in my family, we all met up on Saturday again when everyone was off work.  There were a ton more people there, and the lines were kinda ridiculous at times, but Ellie got to talk to Belle and Elmo (there's a lot of people walking around in costume) and Annie got her face painted, so all in all, I'd call the outing successful.  Except for the whole pesky INSTACARE VISIT!  Grrrr.  Anyway, Isaac had been fussy that day.  He completely skipped his nap, and I knew we were in for it at the Fair.  I almost debated not going, but everyone was looking forward to it and after being cooped up for so long, I didn't want to miss out either!  We got there and I cuddled Isaac down into the sling and hoped he'd fall asleep soon.  Except, he didn't.  He started to cry.  Then scream.  Then scream bloody murder in a way that was frightening other small children and my sisters.  So, Greg moved his carseat into my sister's car, and Star and I headed off to Instacare with him.  I was convinced he'd have an ear infection.  'Cause in my house, that's usually the source of all unexplained screaming and nap-skipping.  Star and I got to the closest Instacare and I went to check in.  My heart kinda sunk at the sight of many, many people waiting to be seen.  Then I found out this Instacare didn't have a built in Kidscare (the difference being that Isaac would be seen by a pediatrician at Kidscare and it would cost me $20 vs. $50.)  So, Star and I loaded him back up into the car and headed to another Kidscare with Isaac.  (Along those same lines, I got nine -- NINE! -- insurance statements/'explanation of benefits' in the mail on Saturday.  Nine!  And that doesn't even cover one of our ER visits and a couple more doctors and Instacare visits).  Fortunately, there was NO wait at this Kidscare, and I saved $30, so I was happy about how things turned out.  Isaac weighed in at 17lbs 10oz. (this adds nothing to the story, I just like having these things recorded for posterity and all that), and he spent the rest of the time happily interacting with the nurse and doctor.  And starting at his fist that he was holding out in front of himself like he was stoned or something.  It was kinda funny.  I think it was just lack of sleep, and not that my seven month old was actually high.  After an initial scare of his oxygen looking like it was in the 80s again (I almost had some kinda PTSD episode when I saw that), but after reattaching the leads to his foot, the pulse ox showed a much more respectable 97, and I could breathe again.  The doctor listened to Isaac's chest and declared the RSV pretty much gone.  I could've kissed the man.  He asked how long I'd been told RSV would last, and I said 10-14 days, thus my growing concern after WEEKS of illness.  He shook his head and said he always tells parents to expect a month or better of recovery.  Well, that would've been nice to hear from the beginning!  Anyway, this wasn't the RSV anyway, so he checked the ears and they looked great.  Here's where I almost had another mini-panic attack.  See, I've been dragging Isaac into the doctor's the last couple week's 'cause he's been so fussy/grumpy/pissy/angry/sad/sick/etc.  And every time they've shrugged it off as 'nothing's wrong, he's still jut getting over RSV.'  Well, this time the doctor, looking into his throat, exclaimed that it was DEFINITELY really red and the poor kid had a sore throat.  Yay!  I mean, I felt bad for poor Isaac . . . but it was an ACTUAL diagnosis of what was wrong, and not a sympathetic 'sorry crazy-Mom, you're just bringing your kid in for nothing and wasting another $20' shrug.  So, I was told to dope him up on some Motrin, and expect a few more nights of suckiness (probably not the Doctor's exact words), and to 'feed him a lot, because it'll make his throat feel better,' which almost made me laugh out loud since I've been feeding the kid almost hourly at night lately.  So, he checked out as relatively OK, with yet another bug to fight off, but nothing nasty.  So, we headed off to meet back up with the family for pizza.  Thanks Star for dragging me and my sick baby all over in your nifty new car!

So, I missed most of our outing -- but fortunately, Greg did a FANTASTIC job of taking pictures.  So, because this is my first time going through them too, y'all get to see all the fun stuff my kids got to do yesterday, after nearly a month of quarantine.  (Well, technically, Annie got to go on her field trip, but there's been an unprecedented amount of time spent within the confines of our own home lately, so it was good for the kids to get to go do something fun and active!)

Ellie in her 'Silly Monkey' shirt, kinda looking like a silly monkey.  So I liked this one. :-)

Aw, such sweet sisters!

And they love each other!  (Usually)

On the 'Tumble Bus' -- this was a favorite of theirs -- a bus that was turned into a jungle gym/obstacle course inside.

Annie driving the fire truck.

Passengers on the fire truck.

Annie and Uncle David and some kinda gila monster or something . . .

Face painted Ellie -- she was SO happy about this!

Face painted Annie.  Annie happily waited in a very long line to get this done.  It was pretty much the only thing she was really interested in doing after they'd been there for awhile.

Ellie riding the police motorcycle -- and Aunt Talina with some strange third eye :-)

Angry biker chick Ellie.

Annie on the motorcycle.

Annie loved the obstacle course.

Going through the tubes to get to the 'fire'.

My two little firefighters dragging the hose to the scene.

Annie putting out the fire with the water-squirting fire extinguisher.

One quick story about Ellie and the face painting.  After Ellie had gotten her face done, Aunt Talina handed her a dollar to tip the woman, and whispered a reminder to Ellie to say "Thank you." Ellie looked down at the dollar, then up to Talina happily and said an enthusiastic, "Thank you!"

And shoved the dollar in her pocket and started to walk away.

Ha!

Talina had to re-explain the point of the tip.  :-)

Pictures from the Quarantined . . .

A quick video of Isaac's forward progression . . . 

He was not happy about anything this evening though, so he wasn't overly cooperative and I didn't get the best video . . .

Over three weeks in to this virus, and every time I turn around his face is suddenly 'slimed' in snot again . . .

Not so sure about this tummy time . . .

REALLY not sure about tummy time . . .

Wary of Mom and her tummy-timing ways . . .

The one happy, healthy child in the bunch . . .

Sickly Ellie rocks the bedhead.  The girls play 'doctor' a lot lately, not like that's been the focus of their life lately or anything.  The other day I heard Annie in her room, telling her baby doll, "It's OK, it's OK . . . it'll only hurt for a minute . . . but the suctioning will make you feel better . . ."  Made me feel suddenly really guilty.  :-)

At Least One of Us is Mobile . . .

Health update:  Greg and I are pretty much on the mend.  Annie is off on a preschool field trip.  That kid could not possibly be any more excited about FINALLY getting to leave the house.  I can only imagine how she feels . . . :-)  The two little kids are just having a really rough go of it.  It's breaking my heart (and seriously messing with my sleep), as they wake up nearly hourly throughout the night (and inconveniently, not on the hourly same schedule).  They sound and look just horrible.

But there's one thing I've kept meaning to mention, that I just keep forgetting.  Isaac's mobile now.  He chose this last three weeks of serious illness to really get his butt in gear, and you can't leave the kid in one place anymore and expect him to still be there when you get back.  It isn't really crawling, per se, and it ain't pretty, but that kid can get to anything he wants to now.  A week or so ago, I set him down with some toys in the middle of the front room, and went in to dishes.  Before I even had the dishwasher unloaded, I heard a happy grunt from behind me, and there was Isaac, all the way across the front room and at the edge of the kitchen, happily showing off his forward progression.  For awhile it was a bunch of rolling and wiggling to get where he wants to go in a roundabout way, but now it is full on forward progression.  He spent the whole morning while I was working out, happily moving himself from one side of the room to the other.  Finally interrupting my work out completely (which I was secretly grateful for) when he landed himself smack dab in between my legs.  He can also spend huge chunks of time just sitting there.  All proudly, and a tiny bit wobbly, but upright for a good thirty minutes or so at a time.  Sitting-mobile Isaac is a lot happier as an active participant in life -- but, then again, I can no longer leave the room with any kind of expectation of him being in the same place when I get back.  So, there are trade offs :-)

But at least one of us is getting some exercise.  As for me, I'm just getting back into it after a several week break of craziness and non-fitness.  Am I the only one who watches Jillian Michael thinking, "That doesn't look that hard . . ." and then attempts it for 18 minutes and nearly dies and is grateful when the baby suddenly shows up under their feet and they 'have' to stop to take care of the baby?  It really doesn't look that bad, then you're doing it and thinking, "Holy crap?!  There are muscles there?!"  But, I figure my body needs a few days to get back into it.  I am finally feeling ready to get back into a healthier lifestyle.  My Biggest Loser competition has obviously fallen by the wayside, and I have put back on 1.8 lbs from my lowest weight, but I figure that since my baby has been dealing with RSV for TWENTY THREE FREAKING DAYS now, I'm not going to beat myself up over that.  I keep thinking that by nursing around the clock I should be burning enough calories to keep losing weight . . . but then I remember that my stress-coping-skills have pretty much bottomed out in the 'constantly eat Hershey Kisses' zone, and it becomes clear why I'm not losing.

I figure I'll just follow Isaac's example, and just get moving nonstop, and I'll get back on track in no time . . . 

Here We Go Again . . .

Greg and I are past the worst of the illness, and seem to be steadily getting better each day.

While Annie has horrible coughing fits randomly throughout the day, she really seems to be almost back to normal.  We're still using her steroid inhaler and her rescue inhaler fairly regularly, but we haven't done a nebulizer breathing treatment in a few days.

The two little kids though -- what the crap!?  They're both progressively getting sicker.  They are three and two weeks into their illnesses, and it should be over! They sound and look horrible -- coughing, snotty noses, funky congested breathing.  They're both grumpy and napping crappy.  And sleeping at night is a disaster . . . I dread night time.  I lay in bed at night, dreading falling asleep because I know that as soon as I do, one (or both!) of them will wake up screaming.  Last night I went to bed around 10:30PM, and by then Isaac had already woken up twice and Ellie had woken up three times.  Isaac woke up every 1-3 hours throughout the rest of the night (nursing so often that even though I drank over 32 ounces during the night, I was so dehydrated when I woke up my lips were cracking!)  Ellie fortunately only whimpered and coughed throughout the night, but never really woke up again after 10PM until 7:20AM (which is totally sleeping in for Ellie -- the child almost never wakes up this side of 7AM). 
I have now dragged Isaac into the doctor's twice for this 'mystery illness' -- he's had chest x-rays and urine tests, and nothing.  The doctor's have shrugged it off as, "He must just want to see Mommy during the night!"  I cannot wait for this to get over . . . I was pretty patient during the first round, but I'm starting to think I won't handle a second round with as much 'grace' . . . :-)

Ode to the World's Greatest Sister AND Attack of the Man-Cold

Sorry Star, Talina, Andrea and Liz . . . but today, Lacy reigns supreme.  You're all still amazing and I love you, but Lacy is currently my favorite person on the planet.  :-)

So, this'll come as no surprise to anyone reading this, but the last couple weeks have been, um, a bit rough.  We already felt like we were trapped in a germ filled prison that'd need a few lysol bombs to go off before it'd ever be safe to touch anything again.  Add to that the nasty gray water that backed up into our basement, and it just felt a bit icky around here.  I spent a chunk of my day trying to scrub and mop and disinfect and just, in general, make my house feel livable again.   That's when my baby sister, Lacy, called.  All week she's been calling to find out the latest, and lamenting how there was nothing she could do while being two hours away at school.  Today she resolutely exclaimed (when I told her about our kitchen sink that was leaking and needed to be repaired), "That's it. I'm coming over and I'm cleaning your house."  I told her that wasn't really necessary, but the thought counts and I was really touched.  But mere hours later Lacy showed up on my doorstep . . . with four of her friends.  This crew of Utah State students spent the next several hours (along with my Mom and I) cleaning nearly every surface on two of the levels of my house.

To name just a few things that got done:
1.  They cleaned and organized the toy room.
2.  Shampooed my carpets . . . one guy spent a solid two hours meticulously cleaning every stair in my house.  It is awesome!
3.  Vacuumed, including moving all furniture and vacuuming all the couches.  Then they shampooed the cushions.
4.  Washed walls!  Including the stairwells!
5.  Washed windows and blinds . . . my whole house seems brighter!
6.  Baseboards are spotless!
7.  The top of my fridge and cabinets are pristine!
8.  My microwave, toaster, Kitchen Aid, cookie jar . . . they all look brand new.
9.  The fronts of all kitchen cabinets and the dishwasher and stove have been scrubbed.
10.  Floors mopped!
11.  Everything is dusted.  Every shelf was cleared and cleaned, all knick knacks washed in the sink, dried and carefully returned to the clean shelves.
12.  Inside of my microwave is scrubbed.
13.  The inside of my fireplace is clean.  Seriously.  I've never done that before.
14.  And the list goes on . . .

For hours the seven of us cleaned until the whole house (at least the common areas) look, smell and just feel clean.  I don't think I could be happier!

So, Lacy . . . thanks.  That was beyond awesome.  In our family prayers tonight Annie said, "Heavenly Father, thank you for Lacy and Lacy's friends."  Your not-so-little act of service did a huge amount to help bring my life back into a little balance.  I feel more 'head above water-ish' then I have in weeks.  Those few hours saved me countless hours and stress of trying to accomplish the same things between naps, and with tiny children screaming at me for attention.  (My Dad was watching the girls at his house, while Greg had Isaac at the Instacare.  Oh yeah, about that.  Isaac's fine.  He's just still acting so weird, and his congestion and cough have gotten bad again . . . but chest x-rays showed it's still just the same ol' stupid RSV that hasn't completely cleared up, and not pneumonia (which is what we wanted to check for).  They're also running a urine sample to rule out a few things, but we haven't heard anything back on that yet.)

I've been thinking a lot about this last two crazy weeks. 
And honestly, I feel really lucky.
I mean, sure, there have been more than a few occasions where I've snapped an angry, "You have got to be freaking kidding me!" at nobody in particular.  But for the most part, I've taken things (shockingly) in stride.
Unexpected medical bill after medical bill . . . it's okay.  Not only do we have insurance, but we have a flex spending account.  Sure, it's all used up for the YEAR now, but we've had hospital stays and ER visits and a dozen other things come up, and we haven't had to take one cent out of our budget.
Flooded basement . . . hey, we caught it early.  It could've been so bad, but it just so happened that my Mom stopped in asking to borrow something (that I keep down in the basement) within hours of when we believed the flooding started.  Because of that, the damage was minimal, and aside from some new carpet pads, cleaning costs and some labor, we got out of this one pretty easy.  
A new water heater . . . we'd need a new one eventually anyway, and how great that it happened the same time we're getting a nice tax return. And if it had started leaking AFTER we got our basement put back together from the earlier flooding, then we'd had to have done the whole flooding thing twice!  This way we got both done in one day.
Again, I don't wanna come across as Pollyanna here -- I've been upset a few times.  I've cried a little.  I've gotten kinda angry (usually at Greg's man-cold*).  :-)
But all in all, I've felt a very quiet peace.  A reassurance that while this may suck mightily, it really wasn't that bad.  My baby in the hospital for two days . . . yeah, that wasn't fun.  But it was two days, and he was never in any real danger and we were able to leave in no time.  One of my best friend's babies spent FIVE months in the hospital, with close calls that I can't even imagine living through.  So yeah, my baby was sick.  But he was fine.  And I never doubted he'd be fine.  Cleaning up Ellie's puke wasn't fun, obviously, but it came between bouts of her bouncing around happily, so who am I to complain when my RSV infected daughter can't sit still for two seconds because she has so much energy and is doing so well.  The scariest moments for me had to be Annie's asthma attacks.  But even then, even when I was legitimately freaked out and scared -- I knew we were less that ten minutes from a hospital.  I knew that we could pick up and head to a hospital without a second thought.  I also had amazing machines and medicines at my disposal to treat her.  Can you imagine the horror of watching your child struggle for breath and not be able to do anything about it?  I could whip out a nebulizer and get a treatment going within minutes.  Seconds, really.  Even if it didn't do quite enough, it was something.  It bought us time to get her somewhere else. 
We've also been spoiled.  We have friends and neighbors and family bring us meals, check in on us constantly.  I've had emails, phone calls, facebook messages, blog comments.  A lot of people have been thinking about us, and praying for us.  I've felt it.  My parents have been here at the drop of a hat over and over and over again.  They've watched kids while we were in the hospital, in the ER, when we had a doctor's appointment, when I just needed a break.  My Dad's been here getting just as gross and disgusting as Greg and I wading through backed up water and sucking it up with my carpet shampooer.  Then he was back over not even a half hour later, staying late to help install a new water heater.  My Mom spent hours today cleaning and scrubbing and effectively directing the lot of us in our housework.  And I think she'd been here and done my dishes almost as many times as I have this week.
I've felt a great deal of peace, comfort and, as the only word that I can come up with to sum it up, stillness, in myself as I've been dealing with all that's come our way the last week.  I've been reassured on a very deep level that I am the Mom.  That with that title/job/duty, I am afforded very real gifts/intuition/skills/knowledge/understanding that help me accomplish the great work of mothering.  Nobody knows my kids like I do.  Nobody is more in tune with what they need.  Nobody wakes up in the middle of the night, suddenly knowing my children need something, quite like me.  There is power and peace and confidence and comfort that comes with living this in a very real way, outside our normal day to day 'easy' life.  I'm the Mom -- I'm perfectly suited to be their Mom, and I have everything I need inside me (and in the support system I've been blessed with around me) to do my job well. 
I'm actually feeling pretty good, and incredibly blessed, despite (or, I guess even because of) the drama of the last two weeks.  Life is good.  God is there.  My children are healthy.  We're able to provide for them all we need to.  And the people in my life just rock. 

*Speaking of Greg's man-cold, we had a funny exchange last night while he laid there 'dying'.  He was miserable.  Legitimately miserable.  And I understood, 'cause hey, I've been miserable for days too.  Every time he'd lay down he'd sit back up seconds later, exclaimed, "I can't breathe!"  It really was horrible -- you felt like you were suffocating every time you'd lie down.  I sadly mentioned, "I hate feeling like this -- all I can think about is how horrible the kids must've felt!"  Greg's response:  "They weren't this sick."  Me:  "What?!"  Greg:  "They weren't as sick as me . . . "  Me:  "What?!  Do you not REMEMBER the last two weeks.  Hospital stays.  ER visits.  Asthma attacks, not being able to breathe?!"  Greg moaned:  "Yeah, but they weren't sick like this . . . "  
It's amazing I didn't suffocate him with his pillow :-)


Now that I've teased Greg about his man-cold, I should mention he really has been amazing while being sick.  Greg does not operate well while sick.  He typically barely moves at all, sleeping for 24 hours or so until he is suddenly over it and ready to get back to life as normal.  That wasn't possible this time.  For one thing, we have three sick children, and I'm feeling pretty crappy too.  Another thing, our house suddenly decided to fall apart on us and there was a lot of intense physical labor that had to be done, pretty immediately.  He's done it all.  Without (much) complaining.  He has really manned up (well, womanned-up seems more apt here, since we're discussing overcoming man-colds.)  I really do hope he can get a good night's sleep tonight and get back to normal, 'cause he's had it rough this weekend. 

Laugh or Cry

"The only way to get through life is laugh your way through it. You either have to laugh or cry. I prefer to laugh. Crying gives me a headache." - Marjorie Pay Hinckley

Did I mention we just discovered our kitchen sink is leaking and the area under the sink was soaking wet and warped?
Greg's response upon our discovery, "I hate water." :-)  Ha!

Also, I tried to take Isaac into Instacare earlier today.  His coughing and breathing is getting worse now, not better.  But, the wait was TWO to THREE hours!  So, I brought him home, had a friend who's a nurse listen to him, assure me he was breathing fine, and we'll bring him in for a chest x-ray later today.  

On the Bright Side . . .

We made it a whole 24 hours with nobody having to go to the emergency room.

But, the drain in our furnace room backed up and flooded the basement.  But, we have it on the way to being cleaned up (carpets ripped up, pads torn out, fans going.)  We're in a good holding pattern until we figure out what to do next. 


My house smells like rotten food and sewer water.  Fortunately, I'm so sick and stuffed up that I can barely smell it.  :-)

Edited to add:  Seriously -- you're all going to think I'm joking, BUT, our water heater has a leak and we need a new one. Greg (who is sick) is on his way to Home Depot to get a new one. And the leaking water heater had nothing to do with today's earlier flooding.

Back from the Hospital

So, Annie and I just got home from the hospital.  Yep, again.

Let me back up a bit . . .

We gave Annie a breathing treatment around 4:30PM.  Then again at 7:30PM.  They were only three hours apart, rather than the prescribed four, but it was bedtime and we wanted to get it in before she was asleep.  Around 9:00, everything at our house went a little crazy.  Greg and I listened sadly to horrific coughing fits coming from our girls' bedroom.  But since nobody was waking up from it, we left it alone for a bit.  I told Greg it worried me that Annie was coughing so bad, especially since it hadn't been long since her last breathing treatment.  Then the coughing got worse, and Greg headed in to check on Annie.  Only to find it was Ellie coughing that hard.  And then Ellie began throwing up.  Again.  Repeatedly.  Then while we were dealing with the clean up with Ellie back in our room, the coughing fits started again, and this time they were Annie.  She woke up (kinda), freaking out, and we brought her into our room too.  She obviously wasn't breathing very well.  We quickly decided that, even though it had only been an hour and a half since her last one, she desperately needed another breathing treatment.  We watched, and a bit of terror set in, as she obviously wasn't inhaling during the breathing treatment.  The mist coming from the mouth piece was barely moving, and she was obviously struggling to move air.  After a few minutes of what seemed like a completely useless breathing treatment, and her starting to tear at the face mask and getting upset by it, I stopped the treatment and got the normal inhaler and tried two puffs of that.  I held her while we waited to see if it was working.  She still seemed to be barely breathing.  We asked her to talk to us, which she refused to do for a minute or so.  Finally, I coaxed her to say her name.  It came out labored as she had to pause with each word and take in a ragged breath.  It's safe to say I was a tad bit freaking out at this point.  I ran to go get shoes and a coat while Greg got her socks on, and within a minute or two I was on my way back to the hospital. 

Fortunately, by the time we got there, I could tell she'd already gotten over the hump.  She was obviously breathing easier, but I still wanted her checked out.  Her oxygen, with the medicine kicked in, was a respectable 93 or so.  Her respiration rate and all that was fine.  The doctor listened to her, obviously concerned that she's having such a difficult time while on all of these medicines and over 48 hours on steroids, but was confident that she wasn't in any current trouble anymore.  So, we were told we could give her breathing treatments (even two in a row) as often as every two hours, as long as she's 'coming back' okay after them.  If we can't get her back to normal with back to back treatments more often than every two hours, then we need to come back in.  Pronto. 

So, we're home now and getting settled in for the night.  I don't know how well I'll sleep, wondering if she's breathing enough, but I do feel a lot better knowing that the treatment we have available to us at home does work, even if it took longer than I was initially comfortable with. 


Oh, and once Ellie puked up all her dinner, she was fine.  Hyper and adorable and playful and breathing fine.  Her little throwing up thing just added to the stress and drama (and laundry) of the evening.  She's struggling with the virus in her lungs too, but fortunately without the added problem of asthma, she's handling it better than her big sister.



This whole last week or two has been a bit surreal.  In a lot of odd ways, I've found myself feeling very grateful.  Yeah, it's sucked.  But things could be worse.  Much worse.  As it is, I'm surrounded by top notch medical facilities, wonderful caregivers, and a ton of loving friends and family who've brought us meals, helped out, and kept us in their thoughts and prayers.  Neighbors have checked in, I've had a ton of emotional support online, my brother in law came by just to play with the girls this evening after work, just so I could get a bit of a break.  Annie's cute preschool teacher brought us my very favorite soup and fresh squeezed orange juice.  Add to that, I learned this morning of an old friend and neighbor who passed away after a long battle with cancer.  Leaving behind several young children.  My heart breaks for her sweet family.  Any trials I've dealt with, even having a baby in the hospital or watching my four year old struggle to breathe, pale in comparison.  My life is filled with rich and abundant blessings, and sometimes a little struggle and heartache make that all the more apparent.  I've been tired, sometimes a bit overwhelmed, and even a tad amused by the medical soap opera my life has been lately -- but I have constantly felt loved, comforted and taken care of -- whether by my friends and loved ones or from a tender, mindful God.  This last few weeks have been unique in my life, and I've found myself, dare I say it, grateful for the experience. 

Latest Update . . .

So, I'm just stealing this from what I just posted on facebook, but here's the latest from our (sickly) house:

The week that WILL. NOT. END. . . .
So, Isaac was up a LOT last night. Like every hour or two. I thought maybe he hadn't gotten over his ear infection, so I made a doctor's appointment for him around 11 this morning. A few hours before we left, I'd given Annie her latest asthma breathing treatment (we're doing them every 4-6 hours while she has RSV). Once we got to the doctor's, Annie was coughing a lot. So, I asked the nurse who was checking Isaac in, if she could grab the pulse ox machine and check out Annie's oxygen levels. Lo and behold, Annie was only breathing in the high 80s, and so they checked her in as well for a breathing treatment.
This is my second appt in just over a week that we've gone for one kid and ended up with two being checked out. Plus the two other appointments we've gone to :-)

Isaac checked out fine -- the official diagnosis was along the lines of, "Well, someone wanted to hang out with Mommy last night." I wonder if he had a bad night just to get us into the doctor's for Annie's sake . . .

Annie is breathing OK for now. We're just have to stay up on her breathing treatments (it was moved to a solid 'once every four hours or more' schedule from the previous 'every 4-6' instructions) and keep a close eye on her. It'll probably get a little worse before getting better (as she's about 4-5 days into the illness), but it shouldn't be much longer before we see her on the mend!

Did I mention I'm running a low grade fever, and have a sore throat and cough?

I'm tired. :-)

Edited to add:  This is almost getting comical.  Greg just called from work.  He's coming home sick.  Of course.

Last Week in Pictures . . .

My baby boy last Monday, right after getting rid of the oxygen -- you can see his little 'circles' from where the 'dots' on his face holding the oxygen were . . . and you could see them for days!  That stuff was hard to get off!

Last Tuesday, Ellie was feeling so sick, she put her pillow down at the foot of my bed, pulled some of our blanket off the bed, and fell asleep.

Friday -- Dress up!

Since we weren't well enough to play outside, we got all dolled up and had a fashion show.

 

The best part about this picture:  The day after I took it my Dad came over.  My parents are getting ready to go on another Mexican cruise, and my Dad said, "I'm not going to bring back any more Mexican dresses for your girls."  "Um, OK." "They never wear them, it was just a waste of money!"  "They do too wear them."  "I've never seen it."  "Well, are you here every day?"  "No, but I've never seen them wearing them."  "Yeah, for your information, they wore them yesterday."  "Yeah right."  "No really," as I grab my camera which we just happened to be standing next to, "Look are these?"  Ha!  He looked so sheepish.  :-)

Valentine's Day -- Daddy reading to the girls at bedtime.

Annie complete with nebulizer treatment.

This morning, Annie getting her second breathing treatment for the day.

Oh, Come On!

Annie had a better night.  She did wake up at 10 or so with an asthma attack manifesting as a horrific coughing fit.  We treated her with a nebulizer, and she was able to go back to sleep.  I was worried about what this meant for our night, as she had just had her last breathing treatment a mere three hours before.  But shockingly, she slept the rest of the night.  Even with me sneaking in several times, perched awkwardly up over the top of her bunk bed, trying to feel her chest for both temperature and movement.  But she slept 'til 7AM, never once running a fever or waking up again.  Hallelujah. 

BUT, Isaac woke up screaming for the third time of the night -- and then I noticed something new.  The kid is very congested, coughing and has a FREAKING FEVER.  He was a little over 100 degrees.  Really?!  Seriously!?  Isaac's sick again.  You gotta be kidding me . . .

Hospital, Again

Annie woke up in the early morning hours for the second night with a 102-103 degree temperature and very rapid, shallow breathing.  The night before we gave her Tylenol and a breathing treatment and she was doing better really quickly.  Well, not this time.  After breathing treatments and an extra dose of Ventolin, she was still breathing VERY rapidly and it was raspy.  So, I packed her into the van and took her to the E.R.  We got there and found she was around 90 on her oxygen.  So, they suctioned her out (the most horrible, evil thing ever -- it was BAD when they did it to Isaac, it was horrific when they swaddled Annie in a large sheet, the nurse and I held her down, and they shoved tubes down both nostrils while hooked up to a vacuum.  It makes me shudder just thinking about it again.)  Then gave her steroids, a dose of Motrin (since her temperature was still 101) some other drug and then hooked her up to another breathing treatment.  We then got chest x-rays.  At this point, because it was now morning, and children always seem to be their sickest during the night then suddenly seem fine during the day, she was perking up a bit.  Her oxygen stayed right around 93, but the asthma was cleared up and it was just the virus at this point.  She was also very happy about her TWO new teddy bears (one from the respiratory person who'd suctioned her, and one from our sweet nurse) and a new Winnie the Pooh book and several stickers and a coloring book.  She feels like she made out like a bandit, but since I had just signed a $100 bill, they just felt like very expensive cheap teddy bears to me.  :-)  But she was quite proud of herself, and would tell anyone who came in the room that she got a new teddy bear because she was so very brace.  Anyway, they came in after her x-ray and said it definitely looks like RSV and possibly some atypical pneumonia (something Annie's had in the past and cleared up fine with antibiotics).  They let us come home after the ER doctor talked to Annie's pediatrician this morning and it was agreed we'd bring her in to be checked out again this afternoon (or if she gets any worse before then). 

So, we're home now.  My Mom did my dishes this morning while watching my kids, which makes her awesome.  It cost me $100, but I did get out of dishes and she took out the diapers. 

We'll see how today goes, and in theory, we should be getting past RSV in our house sooner or later . . .

My Baby Brother and My Poor Sick Babies

First, something that made me smile:

This was a story my little brother sent from his mission today.  His Spanish is coming along incredibly, but he's still learning to pick up all the words he hears . . .
"We were doing contacts and we arrived to this door with a lot of barking dogs. A lady came to the door, we introduced ourselves, but she said she was busy. She than said something very quickly in Spanish, something about bathing her dogs . . . or so i thought. I quickly piped in 'Can we help you?'  To which my comp turns to me and says, 'She is about to take a bath!' I quickly added, 'Can we help with your dogs?' :-). Turns out she had actually said that she was about to take a bath and she has crazy dogs."
Oops! :-)  He he he.

Less smiling:

Greg took Ellie to Instacare yesterday, after a day of nonstop crying, screaming and whining.  She has a raging ear infection.  Of course.  When he first got there and was waiting for their turn to be seen, he called to say, "Ellie seems fine now!  She's bouncing off the walls!"  I explained, with the wisdom of a mother who has seen her kids miraculously healed many a times in the waiting room at the doctor's office, after you've paid the co-pay but are still waiting your turn, that this is quite common.  I don't know the why or how they do it, but they always seem better when they get in front of the doctor, and you're sitting there, haggard, trying to explain why your toddler is swinging from the chandelier (if, you know, they had one in the exam room) and you've brought them in to see a doctor for some imaginary illness.  You explain, almost pleadingly, "You have to understand, she cried ALL day, and she didn't sleep last night . . . " as the doctor stares at your cartwheeling child.  It's just a thing kids do.  I can't explain it, but I can attest to the phenomena.  Ellie did have something diagnosable though, so at least Greg didn't look crazy for bringing her in for an appointment.

Then last night, in the middle of the night, Annie wakes up in sheer terror.  I would've assumed she'd had a nightmare by the sound of her frantic cries.  Instead I found out she was running a very high fever, soaking through her pajamas with sweat.  She was having a hard time breathing, really struggling to move air in and out . . . we got out the nebulizer and gave her a treatment and she seemed to be doing much better.  Although the coughing was still there.  She fell asleep in my arms, where I held her for the rest of the night (so I could listen to her breathing, which had vastly improved with the treatments).  We're heading into the doctors again today.  She missed her preschool Valentine's party this morning, that she's been looking forward to and spent hours making Valentine's for all week . . . poor kid.

And now Isaac just woke up from his morning nap.  After only 30 minutes.  That is just so not okay . . . I'm refusing to acknowledge his 'end of nap talking', and will insist he remain in there until he falls asleep again . . . or until he starts to freak out . . . 

Things I Love

Dear Kohls,

I love you times infinity.  Saving $129 on an $8.29 purchase made my day.  And two dollars of that Star had to pay me back, since she bought a $30 sweater that cost two bucks.  I'm also very excited about my new $70 running shoes I got for $17.

Love,
Shopaholic Hilary

---

Dear Pretty New Treadmill,

This really feels like the start of something beautiful.  Right next to my bed, your presence is going to be a constant reminder to get my butt in gear.  Plus, my iPod looks so pretty up on your console.

Love,
Soon-to-be-uber-fit Hilary

 ---

Dear Mechanically Inclined Husband,

Thanks for putting together aforementioned treadmill while I checked facebook and updated my blog.

Your most admiring wife,
Smitten Hilary

--

Dear Two Youngest Children,

Thanks for almost being over all your various illnesses.  Although, for feeling better, you're still awfully grumpy.  But your ever-present moodiness today has made me especially grateful for the hours that come after 8PM.  I have a greater appreciation for night time.  Thanks for being in bed and asleep (although, I guess I really owe your Dad on that one) by the time I got back from shopping with your Aunts and Grandma.  Let's get back to sleeping all night and not being tiny terrors during the day.  It'll be good for all involved.

Love,
Your loving, but-having-kids-scream-at-her-all-day-is-starting-to-get-old, Mommy

--

Dear Oldest Child,

You've been pretty well awesome.  Work a little harder on that whole not-smacking-your-obnoxious-little-sister-thing, and you'll pretty much be the most amazing four year old on planet Earth.

Love,
Don't-know-what-I'd-do-without-you Mom

Ugh

So, it wasn't my best day.

Both little kids are recovering, pretty much.  There's still some fevers (Ellie) and snotty noses (both) and grumpiness (everyone), but it feels like we're out of the woods.  I don't expect to wake up in the middle of the night in a panic, wondering if everyone is breathing well enough.  Which is saying something. 

But, with the snotty noses and fevers and tiredness is coming a lot of orneriness.  And it's catching.  Add to that, when I went to weigh in the this morning, I found my scale wouldn't work.  I messed with it, replacing the battery and trying everything else I could think of to get it to work (it's been a problem since I got it -- I should've just returned it in the beginning).  The entire time I'm messing with it, I'm also listening to the girls fighting, Isaac screaming because he's not being held, and we're ever closer to needing to have Annie to preschool . . . but darn it, I wanted to weigh in before I ate breakfast.  I eventually had to give up to get Annie ready.  Then that erupted into a big "fine, I'll just give all your toys away if you refuse to pick them up"/"you can't give away my toys, they're mine" argument that wasn't fully settled until Annie gave in and cleaned up and ended up being 20 minutes late to preschool.  Then I spent the next hour dragging every toy from their bedroom, the front room and my room down into the basement once and for all.  Once I'd de-toyed our entire top two floors, and Isaac had settled into playing with some baby toys (the only ones left upstairs), I tried out my stupid scale again.  It dared to flash its "ERR0" message at me yet again, and I suddenly couldn't help myself, as I chucked the scale across my bathroom.  Really, I threw a scale.  Across the room.  Like a crazy person.  As soon as it landed with a crash (making Isaac start to cry in the other room) I suddenly realized how stupid I felt.  I guess I couldn't take out my frustrations on my tired, grumpy, sickly children, so the scale is now officially done.  I ordered a new one on Amazon about 20 minutes later.  Things were uneventful for a bit, and Annie was home soon.  In order to 'earn' back some of her earlier lost toys from the morning's debacle, it was now Annie's responsibility to change the laundry.  She came happily skipping in, with my cell phone in hand, "Look what I found in the washing machine Mom!" she sung out.  Crap.  CRAP.  My BRAND NEW cell phone, that I bought about a month ago, just went through the wash!  And this isn't my old water proof awesome phone, but some crappy new Samsung that I don't imagine likes the rinse cycle of my washing machine.  I stuck it in rice and hoped for the best.  I then rearranged my bedroom furniture, but foolishly tried to attempt it while Isaac was awake, so it was mainly me trying to ignore his wailing while I frantically finished my work, and Annie danced around singing loudly (adding to the noise level of the room) attempting (futilely) to soothe her baby brother's cries. I also have some graphics work to catch up on, what with our hospital stay and sick kids adventures, and I spent an hour or so doing that.  An hour of listening to my kids whine, "When do we get to play on the computer?" and "Mom, she's touching me!" and then the baby waking up screaming when I was this close to being done with one project.  I asked Annie to go in and talk to her little brother in his crib for just three minutes while I finished emailing these files to my client . . . once she went in he quieted down but it was only a minute or so later I heard Isaac start to frantically scream.  I rush in to find that Annie had climbed into his crib and picked him up, but while trying to help him 'stand' he pulled away and smacked his poor little head against the side of the crib and he now had a nice red mark on his forehead.  A mark that felt very much like a condemnation of my neglectful mothering.  Isaac calmed down as soon as I picked him up, and the red spot disappeared in no time, but it was too late -- my motherly guilt was already in overdrive.  My poor, sick, fussy little boy and I sent his sister in to calm him down so I could get my work done -- and then he was injured -- I was pretty sure was the worst Mom ever.  I also had just put Ellie in time out.  Can you put a feverish two year old in time out?  How do you balance that -- on one hand, she feels like crap and is therefore less able to handle her strong emotions on little sleep and being sick, and I should be holding and comforting and soothing her.  On the other hand, she can't just go walking around smacking her sister or yelling at her brother. 

And did I mention that Ellie painted her toenails.  And skirt, and hands, and shirt.  All a lovely shade of purple glitter.  

And how I forgot all about Annie's music class until about 5 minutes before it was over.  For the SECOND time in a month.  And Annie cried because she missed it again.

And Isaac suddenly seems unable to keep down either sweet potatoes or amoxicillin.  I don't know which was the culprit, but together they made for bright pink and orange spit up that went down my shirt, on my carpet, on my bedspread and on the stairs.

And Greg called to tell me that work had been crazy and he would be home an hour and a half later than normal.

It's just been one of those days.

Edited to add:  Isaac (whom I love, and I didn't really think about trading him in for another baby at 3AM like I said I was) decided to wake up FIVE times last night.   FIVE times.  Stinker.

Well, Last Night Sucked

So, Isaac woke up every two hours.

That I could deal with.

Ellie, on the other hand, woke up crying every single time she coughed.  With RSV and possible pneumonia.  That's a lot of coughing.  For the first part of the night, she'd wake up freaked out, Greg would go rushing in and comfort her back to sleep, sitting on the floor next to her bed until she was sound asleep again.  Then he'd do it all again 15 minutes later.  I finally suggested just bringing her to bed with us.  Greg claimed he'd never be able to sleep with her in bed.  I stared at him incredulously, "And we're sleeping now?"  So, he brought her in.  She heated our whole bed with her 102 degree body. She managed to wake up about every 5 minutes or so, suddenly opening her eyes and whimpering, "I don't want to cough," and then going into a coughing fit that ranged from just a few coughs to a long string of horribleness.  But then all three of us would pretty much instantly fall back asleep as soon as she stopped coughing.  It was long, and awful and sad, but by the light of day she seems a bit better.  I'm hoping now that we've had 12 hours of fevers, things will get better.  Of course, Isaac ran his 102 degree fever the night before his emergency room trip . . .

In other news, I shocked myself at this week's weigh in.  After a two day hospital stay where I was barely able to shower, and I was tethered with a 10 foot oxygen tube around Isaac's crib, you can imagine that my working out fell by the wayside.  I went from working out 6 days a week, with some pretty awesome intensity, to sitting in a rocking chair for two straight days.  It must've been the stress though, 'cause when I weighed in I was actually down 1.4 lbs for the week.  I was pleasantly surprised, to say the least.  Of course, now I'm on day 6 of being way off my workout routine and stellar diet and this morning I found that 1.4 pounds, plus another 10 ounces of its closest friends, found their way back to my midsection.  Sigh.  I decided today was the day to get back into the routine, so after a healthy breakfast I put in an aerobics video, then promptly quit it about 7 minutes later.  I couldn't do it.  I could barely move.  I forgot how tired and sore and tired my body is.  (Did I mention tired?)  And I'd forgotten about my own 100 degree temperature last night.  I think I needed to remind myself there's a time and a place -- and two sick kids, a complete lack of sleep for nearly a week now, and a possible oncoming illness -- probably not the time for kick boxing.  I'll focus on the healthy diet thing, and just some walking, and we'll work up to working out . . .

Good News & Bad News

Came back with good news & bad news from Isaac's doctor's appointment.

Good news:  Isaac was able to come off his oxygen already.  His follow up appointment went great and he's looking great and recovering even better than they'd hoped!

Bad news:  One look at Ellie and the doctor sent her in for chest x-rays -- looks like Ellie has pneumonia.


Sigh.

Isaac's First Bottle and Hospital Pictures

Starting around 6 months old we started giving water here and there -- not in bottles though, but in a sippy cup.  In the hospital they were worried about his hydration, and although we were nursing pretty much around the clock, everyone figured a little water could only help.  But, when they got Isaac a sippy cup,  he didn't like the style and couldn't get it to work with the valve it had.  So, we got him a bottle.  This was the first bottle he'd ever had.  He thought it was a cool new toy, except when he'd hit himself in the head with it, or drop water in his eye.  Then it made him mad.  Most of the time though, he had a lot of fun with it . . .

 

This was his identification sticker -- they couldn't keep his anklet thing on, so they just stuck this to his back :-)

Edited to add:  One other thing I just thought of . . . Isaac is a very pale skinned baby.  I already knew that, but it was funny to see in the hospital just how light his skin tone really is.  Doctors and nurses would get really worried about how pale he was when they'd first examine him and I'd have to assure them that it was his normal skin tone.  He's just an albino. :-)

We're Home!

So, we're home now.  Isaac is doing pretty well.  He did come home on .5 liters of oxygen, but we're hoping that we'll be able to wean him off that by Monday or Tuesday, but we'll just have to wait and see.  The hospital was packed -- one of my nurses told us she had NEVER seen more than 8 kids on the floor, and when she came in that morning there were 15.  Between RSV, bronchiolitis, croup and whooping cough, the place was packed.  Isaac has RSV and bronchiolitis, as well as an ear infection, but he has done remarkably well.  We managed to avoid getting an IV by pretty much nursing around the clock (but after holding him down during vacuum suctioning multiple times and a chest x-ray, there was no way I wanted to hold him down for an IV.)  And despite being a pretty sick little boy, he would usually perk up when people came in -- he was well known for his flirting antics with the nurses.  When one nurse in particular would come in, he'd sit up and spit.  Loudly spit, over and over again.  Then blow bubbles in said spit. He pretty much thought he was the most clever, charming baby in the whole wide world.
The last couple nights have been some of the more exhausting of my life. 
Isaac's been sick lately, but nothing too worrying.  I'd called his doctor's office on Thursday, just to let them know about his snotty nose and cough, and the fever he'd had the night before but was now gone.  They said to follow up if it got any worse.  Well, around 2AM, Isaac woke up screaming.  Like completely writhing and thrashing and screaming like I've never seen him before.  And coughing, so hard that he couldn't stop.  After about a half hour or so of him nursing then breaking away and screaming and coughing, I told Greg that I really was starting to think something was wrong.  I decided to take him to the ER.  We got there and the first thing they did was hook him up to check his oxygen, and my heart sunk when I was that it was only at 85.  Within an hour, and after a breathing treatment (that everyone thought was probably unnecessary, but since we have a family history of asthma, they did it anyway), a chest x-ray and some horrible vacuum suctioning of his nose, we were admitted to the hospital.  I've had three kids, and this is my first time we've had to be admitted like this.  In the early morning hours the doctors and nurses were so impressed with how well he was responding to the oxygen that they excitedly told me about their new protocol -- if a baby could stay above 87 consistently on .5 liters of oxygen for eight hours, they'd send them home on it.  Everyone was so confident that Isaac would be one of these babies that it wasn't until 7PM, after several disappointing dips in his oxygen levels, that the nurse finally took down a complete medical history and went through all the registration information with us -- she said, "We had all hoped you guys wouldn't have to be here over night!"
Then last night was somewhere between a comedy and my worst nightmare.  Isaac seemed to think we should spend the whole night with me sitting in the chair and holding him and nursing him.  I wanted to lay down at some point (I'm guessing I've had about 11 hours of sleep in the past three days), so I dared to lay him down in his crib.  So he screamed.  And screamed.  And started to doze off, then kicked off his pulse ox monitor on his foot.  So the nurse came in and had to get it back on.  Then he was wide awake.  And he started screaming again.  This is when I called Greg sobbing.  He, of course, said he'd come right away and I could come home and sleep for a few hours.  But, I knew I'd never be able to fall asleep worrying about him, so I told Greg to get one good night of uninterrupted sleep 'cause when I finally got home, I was sleeping as much as I wanted to while he was in charge of everything else.
Anyway, last night, after finally getting Isaac to sleep, I was able to drift off.  And less than 45 minutes later, the alarms started up.  The alarm would sound anytime Isaac's pulse ox would go below 87.  I felt like for awhile there it was just this roller coaster of falling asleep, alarm, watching the numbers go 87 - 86 - 85 - 86 - 87 -88 (alarm stops) - 88 - 88 - 88 - I start to drift off again - 87 (alarm) - 86 - 85.   Over and over again.  Finally, he was holding steady in the low 90s and I started to really fall asleep again.  Then I'd suddenly wake up to the distant sounds of shrieking babies.  Not mine, who was soundly sleeping about 12 feet from me, but all the other babies in our hallway.  My Mommy nerves would frazzle each time I heard a screaming baby.  I finally did get an hour or two chunk of sleep with no alarms and no (noticeably) screaming babies, then Isaac woke up around 2.  And thought he needed my undivided attention 'til about 4AM.  Then, for good measure, he'd kick off various wires and we'd have to have the nurses come back in.  They rehooked up his pulse ox monitor four times in one half hour period at one point.  When I finally got him to sleep again, around four o'clock, it was by laying him in the crib and going and hiding in the bathroom so he couldn't see me until he finally fell asleep.  I did get to sleep until about 6AM, which was a heavenly almost 2 hour block of sleep, then he was up for the day.  He did nap in Daddy's arms when Greg came in the morning, and I laid down and got about another 45 minutes of sleep before Isaac woke up wanting to eat (again).
But, we'd accomplished what we'd needed to -- Isaac went about 11 hours with consistently improving oxygen levels, so we were given a tank of oxygen and told we could go home.  Then about three and a half hours later they actually got us all the way checked out :-)  We got home around 11AM, and I've never been so happy to see my own bed.  :-)
So now we're just playing the waiting game.  We can bring Isaac back to the hospital at any time to get suctioned if he's too congested, and we go back Monday to get his oxygen checked and talk to his pediatrician about weaning him off of it.  But for now, I'm hoping we all just get a lot of rest and get to take it easy.  Well, and do the last five days worth of laundry that's piled up.  :-) 

In the ER the first night -- I have more pictures of him in the hospital gown and all, but this was the only one on my phone, and I'm not going to deal with uploading my camera pictures until I've gotten a bit more sleep in :-)

Hospital

Isaac is in the hospital . . . Possibly RSV.

Prayers please?