I don’t even know where to start with this one.

What a week?

Bless it.

I guess it’s true that “the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.”

After my post on Tuesday things went crazy down hill.  Crazy down hill, like, super fast.  Like the down hill and super fast of the new ride at Carowinds in Charlotte…Fury 325.

This was Lucas 325.

Tuesday night it began.  And this post might get long so I apologize up front.

Reynolds woke up somewhere around 2 or 2:30 am…screaming.  I lept from the bed and raced down the hall to his bedroom.  Since Eliza Jane’s room is next to his, there’s always this great fear that she will wake up from his screaming to start her own.

I got to his room and he cried for Da-da but I was able to convince him that I was just as good…

Here’s my question…do others of you, who have kids, go into their rooms at 2 am to soothe them back to sleep, but yet somehow they think it’s time for you to be an obstacle course for them?  What is this?!  For the next 30 or so minutes it was constant, him rolling over and climbing up and down me, with me telling him to “LAY DOWN!” {in a stern loudish whisper of course} and then him laying down for 3.2 seconds before he started all over again.  I was losing my mind and also thinking about how we were both going to be completely exhausted later that day.

I finally got back our bed at 4:35 am…just in time for about an hour’s sleep.

Up and making bottles {it’s now Wednesday morning around 6:40 am}, Andrew goes upstairs to retrieve the crazy one {Reynolds}, and in less than 5 minutes I hear in almost this proud daddy voice, “Hey Babe!  I think we get to use the Ooops Reynolds Fund!”

First of all, why is there a proud tone to this?!  And, what the heck happened in the short span of time that you were up there with him getting him out of bed and ready for school?!!?!

He comes downstairs with this crazy smirk on his face, holding Reynolds’ hand and says, “I think he broke his finger!”

Blah.

“Seriously?! HOW?!”  I said.  “What were y’all doing?!”  Because certainly, it had to have been something that THEY did!!

It was a mystery.  His hand was swollen and pink.  And after seeing him hold his bottle and do other such things I shook my head and said, “it’s not broken.  He wouldn’t be able to do anything with it if it was broken.”

Andrew was convinced that there was some kind of fracture to it.  I was thinking he’d been bit by something even though a visible bite was not present.

We took Eliza Jane to daycare and then on to the Pediatrician we went.

As we waited in the room, I was losing consciousness.  I was exhausted.  I could barely hold my head up and my eyes open.  I looked at Andrew and said, “You got this?”  I was leaving.  Mom of the year right here, folks.

I was up with the kid in the middle of the night, remember.

Right about then, Doc walked in and after a few moments of squeezing and observing, he concluded that it was possibly an ant bite.  “Give him some Zyrtec” he said, and the swelling should go down.

Well, being that we didn’t have the Zyrtec with us in the car, he didn’t get it, nor was he going to, until after daycare.

Fast-forward just a tad, to when I pick up the kids from daycare on Wednesday.

I open the door to Reynolds’ classroom and I can see it from the other side of the room.  It was like Rudolph’s nose…shining bright red.  His hand.  It was worse.  Oh dear, I remember thinking.  This can’t be good.  Gotta get him home and some Zyrtec in him.

{Question here, why didn’t I think of Benadryl?  Why?}

We got home, and after a short wrestling match {!!!!!!} I got him to take the Zyrtec.  I also took a couple of pics with my phone and sent them to Andrew and a few others…asking what to do.  It was worse than the morning and there was starting to show a head on it {gross.}.

As we ate dinner one friend texted that she’d sent it to a neighbor who works in the ER, who showed it to one of the Pediatric ER docs that was working and he said that it needed to be reassessed.  Apparently, when the hand swells, there’s no where for the swelling to go.  I took it to the next level and imagined the hand blowing up, popping like a balloon.  Too far, I know.

So Andrew called the neighbor {we actually know him too} who was working in the ER to get additional information.  Nerves.  Swelling.  Damage.  That’s all he heard and all he needed to hear before it was determined that Reynolds was in-fact going to make an appearance at the children’s ER Wednesday night.

I sent the picture to my cousin who is married to an ER doc with a request for his opinion.

Meanwhile, due to my rolling in pollen on Tuesday, I’d come down with a major case of the allergies and was nearly bed-ridden.  {not that dramatic, but I was starting to suffer greatly}

Around 8:45 pm Wednesday night, Andrew and I snuck into Reynolds’ room and scooped him from his comfy bed.  Andrew secured him into his carseat and off they went, first to pick up Uncle DJ {I think he wanted to go and be part of this wild adventure} and then to the ER.

In and out of sleep, because I could barely breathe, I texted Andrew around 12:38 am {Thursday morning} to get a status update.  He sent me a picture of R’s hand, and it had been traced on by a drunk person.  No, not really.  Someone had traced the swelling to see if it responded to the Benadryl they gave him.

Benadryl.

Remember earlier when I asked why didn’t I think of that?  Could have saved us probably $5k.  And that’s not being dramatic.  The ER ain’t cheap, y’all.  This was the 3rd trip in a year for this family…we know.

My cousin’s husband also recommended Benadryl.  But to my husband’s credit, he wanted to have someone look at it to be sure it was nothing more serious.

So back home, it was now around 1:30 am…I meet Andrew and R on the stairs and Andrew says to me…”Great news, Benadryl makes this kid super hyper.”  Apparently he bounced off the walls at the ER, much like a ball in a pin ball machine.

When Andrew’s alarm went off at 6 am, I let him know that I’d barely slept and was not getting up. :)

I got up at 9:24, went to Reynolds’ room, opened the blinds, turned off his sound machine, climbed in the bed with him and put my arm around him.  He didn’t move.  He didn’t even twitch.  This kid was OUT.  I laid there for a moment thinking that I could wake him up and have him be grumpy, or I could just let him rest.  After all, it was well after 2 am that he finally went to sleep.

He slept until 11:30 am that day.

I called Andrew to let him know that R was finally awake. “I can’t take him to daycare, all the other kids will be going down for a nap when we get there and there’s no way he’s going back to sleep.”  Guess who spent the afternoon together! :)

As I recall, Thursday afternoon was pretty normal after that.

Here we come to Friday.

It was a great morning.  Since I wasn’t working I got to spend the morning at daycare, setting up for and taking part in an event they had for the kids, complete with a bounce house.  It was the greatest morning.

On my way home, however, I got a call from our Vet.  I’d taken Lily on Tuesday afternoon for her check up and to have a few other things checked out.  The Vet found something in her abdomen that was questionable, so along with blood work, she took some samples.  I got the results while driving home.

Breast cancer.  My baby girl.  My sidekick.  She’s been with me through so much.  She’s got breast cancer.  I listened.  She explained the next steps, I took a breath and like someone hit me with a 2×4, I broke down.

“I’m sorry….it…just…hit…me.”  I could barely speak.  She was kind.  She was gracious.  She understood.  She told me she would get Lily’s records to the Oncologist in the next five minutes and then I could call to get her appointment scheduled.  I cried the rest of the way home, walked in the door and there my sweet girl was laying, looking up at me, with no idea that she is sick.  I hugged and kissed her sweet face.  I told her how much I love her.  Then I called the Oncologist.

I sat down on the couch late in the afternoon, with about an hour to read before I needed to leave to get the kids and as I was reading a few things stuck out to me and I thought, I need to start a blog post to include these thoughts so I don’t forget them.

I sat down at the computer.  Something wasn’t right.  Where are all my files?  Where are all my pictures?  My pictures.  WHERE?  ALL THE PICTURES?!

HACKED!

A moment of panic swept over me.  How? When? What do I do?  I sent Andrew a text:  Houston, we have a huge problem. Everything is missing from the computer, it’s been wiped.

I also called my IT friend, who in turn sent me a text that he was unavailable to talk, what’s up?

A string of messages from me had to have blown up his phone.  He gave me step one and I could see that I was somehow under a different profile, MY profile was there and everything was under it, but how did I get bumped out of it into a different {temporary} profile?!

He sent me a text saying to get my “nerd hat” on and then a Youtube video followed.

I watched it while sitting at the gas station, on the way to get the kids.

What a way to end a Friday.

But that wasn’t the end of the week.  Today is the end of the week.  And today there were more adventures.

I found myself pondering this morning.  It would be nice if my life was just a little dull.  Just a wee bit.  Just a tiny, tiny bit dull.  Not like, boring dull, but just not with SO much excitement all the time.  It seems constant.  Something.  All the time.

I took R to get a haircut this morning.  D-I-S-A-S-T-E-R.  What in the world possessed my child.  “No haircut” he told me.  This wasn’t an option.

No coaxing worked.  No animal crackers tasted good.  No lollipop could put a smile on this kid’s face.  He was screaming, red.  Flailing about like a mad man.  I couldn’t think.  I could barely breathe.  {Still.}  I was holding this maniac and I was sweating like I was running mile 25 of a marathon.  I told the lady cutting his hair that she was a saint.  She should be.  I don’t even know how she deals with that.  She was still so nice to him.  And how does she not either cut off his ear or her finger with him slinging his head all over the place?

I gave her a big tip.

Back home and re-clothed {I was covered in his hair}, we gathered up Daddy and headed to the Farmer’s Market.

This weekend is the plant and flower festival…and a great opportunity for me to gather inspiration for my new flower bed.

In the turning lane to the Farmer’s Market….Reynolds coughed and the next thing I knew he was wearing his breakfast all over again.  I’m on the console at this point hollering at Andrew to “PULL OVER!  YOU’VE GOT TO PULL OVER!!”  As if he was on some other planet, completely unaware as to what was currently happening right behind his head.

After stripping the kid down to his diaper, and using quite literally every wipe in the car, I put a beach towel in his car seat and we got back home.

Bless.  Y’all.  It’s been a rough five days.

Updates:

1. Reynolds hand: is no longer swollen.  He’s taking an antibiotic in case of any possible infection because the bite was on his knuckle.

2. I’m finally beginning to be able to breathe and feel like a human again.

3. Lily: and I have an appointment with the Oncologist Monday morning for a full assessment and treatment options for her.  Please pray for us.

4. The computer has been fixed: I watched the Youtube video, followed it step by step and was able to recover my profile that had been corrupted.

5. Reynolds: was able to hold down some Pedialyte and we were able to actually go to the plant and flower festival.  He enjoyed seeing the puppy dogs that were there.

Lord willing next week won’t be so “exciting”.