I’m using you guys as my Complaint Department today, ok?
If I could have a redo on this beautiful Thursday, I would seriously consider activating it. Porter has croup, and his little cough is about the saddest thing in all the land. His first sick visit to the pediatrician had us leaving with a round of steroids and at least 3 days home from daycare.
I took Amos with us as an afterthought because he’d ran a tiny bit of fever early Thursday morning, and woke up with really puffy eyes. Turns out he was the sicker of the two.
I’m skipping the specifics and letting you know that he’s been drinking spinach and fruit smoothies for the last few days (I was afraid he might starve after a 2 week-long boycott of our real-food-go-to’s for him) and coupled with his illness, it did not end well. The icing on this disgusting cake is that we’re a week and a half into operation “get that boy outta diapers quick-like!”
It was bad.
When he came to our bed at 6 this morning, he was smelling a little ripe. I followed him back to his bed, and it was that scene from dirty jobs where Mike Rowe has to clean a basement that had seen a pretty bad sewage backup.
We were already germ-xing like, whoa! but I needed the big guns to help with this. I know that between the daycare and sick days at home, I’ll never be able to smell Lemon Lysol and not think of all of the germ fighting I’ve done in my life.
The disaster zone was wide spread thanks to Amos tossing and turning during the night. We learned the hard way that green smoothies aren’t meant to be ingested when you’re sick. Take that nugget of advice to the bank. Or the toilet, whichever is closer.
Pat and I got things cleaned up as fast as we could since school doesn’t accept tardy notes that say things like “Hank’s little brother exploda-pooped all over the bottom bunk and his parents were busy praying and screaming about it.”
This gross morning didn’t end with toddler sick belly. No way, that’d be too easy. I got round 2 when I went outside to let our big dogs out of their crate *Side note* PLEASE! SOMEONE LET THEM COME LIVE WITH YOU!!! THEY CAN’T STAY IN A CRATE FOR EVER!.
Pat had to go on to drop Hank off, and my mom was on her way to help with the little boys, but I couldn’t leave without letting Simon and Suze try to escape while I stood in the enclosure with them (or pee, whatever you want to call it). I let them out SIX TIMES yesterday. More times in 1 day than I have since they had to be banished to the crate last week. They managed to knock over their water dish during the night, and the short version is they were brown when they rushed out at 7:24 AM. I don’t know if you’re familiar with how big of a poop a 65lb dog can make, but it’s big. And what they’d churned up in that crate was a level of Dante’s Inferno, I’m pretty sure.
I put that fire out…uh…NO! I washed that poop up, ran inside to change clothes, doused myself with more Lysol, and Bo Duked my way across the hood of my Expedition to make it to work on time with Margaret Hannah.
I was there long enough to live it up with my class on our first color party day and came home to be with the little boys before 10. It only took about 20 minutes before the next wave came over our house, and for the last 4 hours, I’ve been toting around my Lysol in one hand and a sick boy in the other. You can’t be around too much Lysol, can you?
Pray for us, will you? And spray a little Lysol out at your house for the homies caught up in this evil, please. It’ll do your soul and immune system some good.