The Doctor's, Target and Derecho...

So I often think that maybe I have these utter debacles just so I can write about it and make other people feel better about their own chaos. I mean, the events that go on just sometimes can't be real... but they happen... to me. I am not claiming I have a terrible life. Quite the opposite, really. I just tend to have the "when it rains, it pours" kind of thing going. I feel like there are people that just seem to have it all together and things run smoothly for them, like ALL the time. That is not me, nor will it ever be. Well, I hope it will be someday... I have just accepted that it won't be anytime soon.

So last Thursday we woke up, made super delish sour cream pancakes (Pioneer Woman recipe), and watched the sky get out-of-control dark from that Derecho business. 
The girls were bopping around playing while I was trying to clean up. On Tuesday evening I had noticed a Olivia had a slight wheeze when she exhaled. Wednesday it seemed okay in the morning, but Thursday morning I could hear it when I was five feet away from her. She didn't seem upset by it or in major respiratory distress, but it was definitely not something I was comfortable with. I called the pediatrician (it is 10:15am at the time), and they said come in at 11:10. 

Now our pediatricians are absolutely amazing. They actually are the same ones I went to my entire life and dealt with all of my kidney/peritonitis issues when I was five (I'm going to assume it was a newer practice when I started because none of them are old). Now we used to live five minutes from there. Now we live 25-30 minutes away. So (obviously we are all still in pajamas), I start throwing clothes on the girls and myself, and trying to call my sister to see if I can possibly drop the older two off at her house. She was at the hospital visiting my grandma, but she was leaving anyways so she came straight to my house to pick up the girls (and literally saved my life and sanity... little did I know how much). We got to the doctor's office by a little after 11 and were brought back within five minutes to a treatment room. Now, the following events have actually never happened in my entire 29 years of going there (well you would have to ask my mom I guess... but they are always super timely and I am in and out fast. Always...) Well, we were put in a room that appeared like it was geared for older kids. It had one plastic truck and three books in it. A far cry from the plastic house, toys, etc in the waiting room and the umpteen toys that always seem to be in the other rooms. I tell myself not to worry, they are always quick... 50 minutes later (I am awkwardly sweating trying to entertain Olivia, per usual), the doctor comes in apologizing profusely. There was a mixup on which room we were in (because apparently they never use this one since it is for older kids). She does her exam and Olivia's wheeze is obvious and even worse when she would push on her chest to help her take deeper breaths. Her squeaks were so pathetic sounding! So, the doctor said she wanted to do a breathing treatment right now to see if she could get Olivia a little more comfortable, and then they would send a nebulizer machine home with us and we need to do it every four hours as needed, or at least three times a day for the next week. She said the medical assistant would be in to set it up in a minute. She apologized a bunch more times for it taking so long, and said she would be back to check her after the neb treatment. 

It is now 12:15, and my stomach is literally making the loudest noises EVER and Olivia is beyond cranky, tired and hungry. We wait for the neb treatment... and we wait. And wait. Twenty minutes later, the doctor comes flying back in, and she was like, "Wait, they haven't come done it yet??" She goes to find the medical assistant (who is the same one as when I was a child and is absolutely great), who comes in and is apologizing profusely because somehow no one had told her that this was supposed to be done. Anyway, they set up the machine and I put the mask over Livi's face and at first she seems content. It is supposed to go for five minutes, so as soon as the doctor and medical assistant left the room, Olivia started screaming bloody murder. Fighting me, pushing the mask away, sobbing hysterically (which doesn't help when you are trying to breath). I had to try to pin her arms back so I could keep it over her face but she is a strong little thing! The medical assistant walks back in and Olivia goes silent. (I swear she likes to keep up appearances or something, because she is an angel for everyone else but me). After the neb treatment, Olivia apparently sounded slightly better so the doctor called in the order to Target (right by them) so I could go run and pick it up. 

We pack up, go over to Target, and get in line behind SEVEN PEOPLE to pick up the prescription. Olivia is sobbing, starving, exhausted. She randomly coughs and wheezes super loud and several people asked me if she was okay. We finally get to the front of the line and somehow, it is not ready yet. I am kind of in disbelief as I am awkwardly sweating, holding a flailing, squeaking child. Okay, I will be back in 15 minutes. Sure, I can easily blow $100 at Target in 15 minutes. It's okay that we are both starving to a new level. So I grab a coverup for me, three rompers for Olivia and Layla (they wear the same size), a dress for Summer, milk, eggs, boxed lemon bar mix (See this is how hungry I was. Most random buy ever.) string cheese, bananas. I go back over to wait behind FIVE people for the prescription as Olivia is wailing, gripping onto the string cheese, trying to open it like she has never eaten before in her life. We finally get the prescription, go check out and make it to the car. 

McDonalds is in the same shopping center so obviously I make really good food choices when I am about to pass out from hunger (i.e. lemon bar box). We go get in what feels like the longest line ever in the drive thru. There is one car in front of us at the getting the food window when this van comes flying around the very narrow lane beside me (totes almost hit the Nav. Not okay). She gets out of her car and starts yelling at the McDonalds worker that she needs sugar. I couldn't hear what the worker said, but then the woman started screaming at the person in the car in front of me to move. A screaming match ensues as I sit in my car, mere feet away from chicken nuggets, fries and a mocha frappe. Finally that whole mess clears up and we get our food. 

My gas light is on (natch) and I have 8 miles left in my tank. Fantastic. So I go through the McDonald's parking lot over to the gas station next door (I actually drove right next to the woman with the sugar issue... I was tempted to stop and ask her why she was so evil but I made a better decision and kept driving). I pull up, give Olivia a few fries (she smashed them in her face so fast I thought she was going to choke). I go set up the gas, and of course, I chose the pump that the lever was broken and wouldn't go unless I stood there and held it. So, I go back and forth between pumping gas and running to give Olivia food. More awkward sweating. Finally my tank was filled ($90 later, downside of the Nav), and we are off to pick up Summer and Layla. After Olivia inhaled a few nuggets and a ton of fries, the poor baby was out like a light. 

We pick up Summer and Layla (I explained to my sister that she truly did save my life), FINALLY get home, I successfully transfer a sleeping Olivia to her crib, and collapse on the couch. Within 10 minutes, I get a text alert about tornados from the Derecho whateverness. I saw that is said Poolesville, Gaithersburg, etc. I'm like "Okay, whatever, we are fine." My sister calls two minutes later, "Are you in the basement?!?!" Me: "Umm no." Well, I missed the second alert that mentions that we needed to take shelter immediately and there was a tornado in Olney. Awesome. Fab. Just dandy. I have to go upstairs and get a SLEEPING child out of her crib, grab the other two, and go in the basement. I pulled one of the couches away from the window into what I thought was the safest area. We hung out down there until everything passed (One of the girls was crying because she was scared. One kept trying to look out the window. You guess).

A few positives I saw in these situations: 
-We are all safe with no damage to our house or anything. 
-My sister had Summer and Layla. I truly cannot imagine having all three during this.
-There was no Derecho issues while I was driving, getting in and out of any car, etc. 
-The doctor thinks Olivia's breathing issues are due to her fever virus thing. Hoping for that over something like asthma. She is a champ at home with it: 

-My new Tory Burch flip flops were super comfy and cute running around, even with the awkward sweating (A minor positive, but still important). 

-I didn't run out of gas. 

Happy Monday!! 


Time flies...

So the last week has been a bit nutty. 

Monday: Strawberry picking debacle. See previous post. 

Tuesday: up at 4am, work, home at 3:30pm, chaos, to be totally honest I absolutely cannot remember what else we did that day other than some awesome dance parties, collapse in bed. 

Wednesday: up at 7am, attempt to straighten up the house, leave for work at 12pm, home by 11pm, collapse in bed but can't fall asleep till after 1am. 

Thursday: up at 7am, Kohl's trip with my mom, lunch at Panera, chaos, Matt is gone for the evening playing in a golf tournament, collapse in bed. 

Friday: up at 4am, work, home at 3:30pm, Olivia wakes up from her nap with 103.9 degree fever, Matt is gone all evening again, up all night with Olivia, take a cool shower with her, (she randomly only wants to cuddle and kiss me--which was adorable/I wanted to die at 3am), Matt is a champ and we trade off shifts all night, Olivia's fever breaks at 5am and she does not have another symptom. 

Saturday: up at 6:30am, Matt gone (still the same tourney), make cookies, shower, Terminix shows up early (a preventative spray) while I am still in the shower, throw on clothes, go to the door looking like a drowned rat with mascara running down my face, let them in, wrap a birthday gift, birthday party at 4pm (but only for an hour because we had a sitter coming at 5:30pm), get ready frantically for our lobster dinner night out with Matt's brother Scott--Matt's 'guest' for the tourney-- and his amazeballs wife Karli, along with our neighbors Tammy and George and lots of other fun people), out for the evening, lots of food, too many drinks, live band, home after 1am, collapse in bed. 

Sunday: up at 7am, stay in bed but can't sleep, Matt takes the girls down to Easton to help his sister move, I walk to the Farmer's Market with my neighbors while eating leftover cold pizza, somehow buy no produce but find adorable Redskins headbands for the girls, walk home, collapse in bed (again), sleep for like four seconds, shower, drive to work (I was filling in for someone as charge nurse so I could go on vacation at the end of this month), have an utterly boring shift (other than having to catheterize one man and give a shot to this murderer who keeps telling everyone he is a doctor... but clearly isn't), get home at 12:45am, collapse in bed. 

Monday: up at 7am, find out my grandma is in the ICU with pneumonia, watch my sister's kids while she goes to visit, leave the girls with her to go visit her myself (and have a horribly awkward Starbucks experience... involving comments like, "My day is now better that you're here," interrupting every time I say my order to 'try' to be funny, refusing to give me my credit card back (making me pry it out of his hand), and a super awkward parting comment that I won't share... see my grandma in the ICU, go back to my sister's, watch all the kids while she goes to the store, pack up my girls, go to pick up my Harris Teeter Express Lane order (best invention ever), 

(which was beyond necessary due to the fact that we had less than one roll of toilet paper left in the entire house) get home, make dinner (shrimp cakes with a mango/pineapple salsa. Yum), 

put the girls to bed, collapse in bed. 

Tuesday: up at 4am, work, go straight to the hospital to see my grandma again, home, scrounge up some leftovers for dinner for the girls (Matt ended up having a work dinner), write up some plans for the bridal shower I am hosting in July, the bachelorette party I am planning in August, and the baby shower I am hosting in August (I actually have about 10239809 ideas for each of these so this is all exciting stuff. No stress yet), touch up some of my dining room paint, attempt a few loads of laundry (at 10pm on Tuesday night, this is how my laundry room looks after already doing three loads): 

And I think this next picture makes it obvious that the girls were clearly traumatized by the lack of toilet paper in the house, and took matters into their own hands after our Harris Teeter trip: 

Matt gets home around 11pm, we get into a super deep convo, collapse in bed around 1am (stupid, I know... but I missed him). 

So. Today, I am exhausted both physically and emotionally. Matt got up early to go visit my grandma before he went to work (yet another reason he is the best) and he even went back out to get her a donut (cleared by the nurse). I just feel like time is flying SO fast. I apologize that this is a very boring post and not well-written in any way, but sometimes I feel the need to think about what the heck I did for the last week and process it so maybe I can do things better next week... be a better mom,wife, and friend somehow. All I can do is try, right? 


Strawberries and the mattress pad update...

First things first: THE MATTRESS PAD WAS FOUND!! I can take no credit for finding it. Matt found it tucked under Olivia's crib. I don't feel quite so crazy anymore!! I still have absolutely no idea how it got there and it was there for a solid month. YAY!!! 

So I had a bit of a debacle on Monday... shocking, I know! My sister called me Sunday night at 9pm (Sidenote: I was already lying in bed. Don't judge). We usually *attempt* to do fun things with the kids on Mondays. She has the bright idea to go pick strawberries and make our homemade jam the next day. I was exhausted at the time (another shocker) and there had been a torrential downpour that day so I was less than enthused to go out in a soggy field with five kids, ages ranging from almost 18 months to 5 years. I said we will see how the weather turned out in the morning. Fast-forward to the next morning, it was overcast and slightly drizzly... I was still less than enthused (it perhaps also had to do with the literal mountains of laundry that were staring at me), but my sister was still extremely determined. We go back and forth for a bit, and finally decide that if the 70% chance of rain at 9am passed, we would make the effort to go. Well, it passed. And we went. Butler's Orchard may have the most random and bizarre back roads to get to it and you really aren't quite sure that you are actually going to end up at a location... but then it springs up out of the windy roads and woods, and we follow the very specific signs to the strawberry patch to begin our adventure. We had already decided that the kids would pick whatever amount of strawberries they wanted, and we would buy the rest down at the market/store/whatever it is called. They started off excited, digging in (sidenote: don't judge the outfits. I didn't want to care if they got destroyed): 

Then they focused more on eating: 

Then Layla decided to whip Tyler with a dead strawberry bush and refused to say sorry, so she had to sit alone and not pick strawberries: 

Let's zoom in for effect: 

She finally apologized to Tyler and was back to happy in 0.273 seconds: 

So, what felt like HOURS later (but was actually barely 30 minutes), we called it a day and went down to purchase the strawberries we actually did manage to pick (and not eat) which did not seem like many: 

The market/store/whatever only had two teeny baskets of strawberries left, which were like $6 each... so our jam-making was in serious jeopardy. We had an oh-so-lovely drive home with one child (who will remain nameless, but happens to belong to my sister) screaming bloody murder the entire ride home (I forgive her. It is SO not like her), which distracted me so much I missed my turn, which then caused it to be a much LONGER horrific ride home. She was crying so hard that we thought she was going to vomit strawberries all over my car... but she didn't. (It could have been good payback for last Friday when Layla peed Tyler's bed and Olivia took off her poopy diaper in my sister's pack n' play. It was bad. I offered to send Summer over to puke but she didn't take me up on it). 

We got home, fed them lunch, and may or may not have had some champagne with strawberries (again, don't judge). We tried to watch one of our stupid/trashy shows (which will remain nameless because I'm pretty sure I've had enough judgement for one post) while cutting out the strawberry tops, but every four seconds a child would pop in and we would have to pause it and try to redirect them. Olivia refused to nap and we actually watched her on the video monitor jumping on her bed like a lunatic. We attempted to make the jam... but didn't buy enough of the pectin boxes, so we both ended up with two and some jars each: 

Which to be honest, is so not worth the hassle that it all was... but what WAS worth it was the kids' happiness while we were there (minus the Layla/Tyler/whipping situation), the excitement when we found a robin's nest with eggs in it in the strawberry bushes, smashing the strawberries. Sometimes it is so hard to just go ahead and DO things when I know how it usually turns out. I end up thinking to myself "I don't know why I even try." But I do try. And I will keep trying. Because I want to keep making memories with my girls, and I want them to experience things despite our crazy and hectic life. 

These last two pics make me die laughing because here was my attempt at all three girls smiling together, but Livi is trying to swipe more strawberries and the sun is blinding Summer:  

Then Layla is clearly yelling, "NO MORE STRAWBERRIES WIVIA!!!" and poor Summer has her eyes closed: 

Until the next debacle...