1:00 IS the Best Time...

Whew! That's all I can say. Whew! I am going to complain about something that I have NO BUSINESS complaining about and I am going to whine even though I should be counting my blessings. I am too old and too tired (and it is too late) to count ANYTHING right now (except drinks if my body didn't hate me these days and would ALLOW me to do so). So. Where was I? Right--counting blessings. So I am very lucky to have such a wonderful family and am even luckier that we are all---teetering on healthy. Blah blah blah, I love them, blah blah blah, it could be so much worse, blah blah blah thank God! NOW...I am going to be ungrateful and perhaps snippy--I think. 'Cause to be honest, I NEVER know where this is going to go. EVER. Shocking, right?! Here you were thinking I typed out these well thought-out posts--okay, I can't even type this without choking. SOOOOO...I had a plan. I did. My children don't have school Thursday or Friday so I thought it would be fun to get them just before the bus on Wednesday and take them to stay with friends in Princeton (maybe not-so-much fun for the friends, but WE would be happy!) for the night. On Thursday, we would all go to a children's museum for the day. (If you don't have a friends and family reciprocal yearly pass and you have children 10 and under (maybe even older) it is WELL worth it! I even did it when we lived in Montana and the closest one was two hours away from us! It REALLY DOES pay for itself--we visit children's museums everywhere we go and stop along the way when we are on trips.) LOOONG sidebar! Anyway, there was this plan and it was going to be great. Like plans often are. Then, LIFE happens. On Sunday, my poor Addie was complaining that her ear hurt when she touched it. What did we say? Right--don't touch it! Well, she mentioned it to friends and said it again on Monday morning when I was showering her. It looked bright red, but she was in a hot shower and wasn't really COMPLAINING necessarily. It went more like this: "Leilani left scooowul eawrly dee othewer day." "Really? Was she sick?" "No. She went to dee dentist at 1:00." "Well, I hope she is okay." "Umm...no. She didn't bwrush hewer teef so she had to get a cabity at da dentist. At 1:00." "Okaaaaayyy..." "Cood I weave at 1:00 to go to da dentist one day? But I could go to da doctewer to fix my eawer? At 1:00?" "Seriously, Addison--why are you so obsessed with 1:00? What if we go at 2:00?" "No. Because Leilani left scooowul to get hewer cabity fwrom da dentist at 1:00." This was at seven in the morning. She didn't mention it again until we were in the car on our way to her school at 9:20. I would write the conversation, but it was EXACTLY the same as what I already typed. AND it turns out she had the EXACT same conversation with my husband the night before and with my friend over the weekend. She even walked into the school and said to the sweet ladies in the front, "I hafta weave at 1:00 to go to da doctewer." The child NEEDED to leave school at 1:00. Normally I wouldn't just pull her out because she WANTED me to...OBVIOUSLY...but her ear WAS bright red and she did complain about the pain...what if I didn't bring her and she ended up with an ear infection? I stoped by the doctor and what do you know? "The only available time we have is 1:30..." I'm sure the lady behind the desk thought I was a freak when I said, "That couldn't be MORE perfect!" When I got to school, she ran to me with her sweet smile, but she felt warm and her teacher said she was a bit melancholy throughout the day (she is usually, what? Bouncing off walls? Probably...). Her eyes were big and glassy and she seemed to get hotter by the second. As we waited to be seen by the doctor, I noticed her ear. It was portruding off the side of her head, but THAT wasn't the bothersome part. There was what looked to be a flat blister on her ear where it meets the skull. I hadn't noticed THAT when we were debating times in the shower. The back of her neck was swollen as well. I couldn't BELIEVE I had missed it! It seemed to grow by the SECOND and I couldn't stand having to wait for the doctor. At this rate, her head would need it's own ZIP CODE if he didn't get in there soon! More unnerving than how disgusting her...gaping wound? looked was the fact that our doctor brought in several others (nurses, doctors, custodial staff...) to take a look as well. It seems that my family is famous for coming up with new things for our doctors to investigate. Aren't WE the lucky ones?! We left with an Augmentin script and a follow-up appointment in the morning. It seems that having a gaping woulnd so close to one's skull (and brain) is alarming and needs to be treated seriously. When we returned in the morning (and the swelling was taking over most of her head (yes, I use hyperbole...I'm THE MOTHER. It's allowed), our doctor told me to take her to the children's hospital in Philly (CHOP) as soon as possible. Not. Scary. At. All. Part two is going to have to come tomorrow because I'm falling asleep writing this. From home. Where my healthy children are sleeping upstairs in their beds. Until I decide to go to sleep and they commence the hindering of my sleep. It's good to be home...'Night!

Carbon Monoxide...not so silent at the Corwin's (thank goodness!)

I have to say, my rantings about Halloween are itching to come out, though everything was trumped by the cries of our carbon monoxide detectors tonight. Or should I say, last night? Here we are at 3:34 in the morning and all three children are laughing hysterically at Little Bear hanging upside down in a tree. yeah--that's right. 3:30 IN THE MORNING. I know it's that late (or is it EARLY?!) because there were no fights about the viewing selection. I also know it's that late because we all have the shakes. If you didn't know better, you'd think you stumbled upon a dark alley in Philly, but alas it is our bedroom. Our bedroom that is registering 58 degrees. Fahrenheit, It all began when our furnace stopped working. I guess that made the story sound like it was going to be more in depth than it is. Our furnace stopped working. That's all. My children were limping around on their frozen toes, so my husband decided to use the fireplace (that we've NEVER used in the year we've lived here) and to get a space heater. It turns out the space heater has no significance in this story at all. So why do I mention it, you ask? BECAUSE IT IS 3: (40 now) IN THE MORNING AND I'M NOT IN COLLEGE ANYMORE. Where was I? The fireplace. I had a raging migraine all day (side bar) which isn't really unusual, but this one felt a little different. I thought it was because of "Snowtoberfest" and just tried to deal with it. After Dave did whatever it is you need to do to shut down a fire before bed, we headed upstairs. I felt a little lightheaded, but again--when DON'T I?! We checked the kids and crawled into bed. A few minutes later we hear an alarm that could wake the dead (NOT a complaint!) accompanied by that lovely voice that greets you on several voicemail services and the self-checkout at Wegman's or Target. You know--the one who gets annoyed if you place too many items in the bag before she's ready for you? Her. Well, she informed us in her haughty voice, "Carbon monoxide...carbon monoxide, CARBON MONOXIDE!" I swear she gets more insistent with time. The back up carbon monoxide alarm started going off as well. GOOD TIMES. Now, here we are with a stranger telling us that there is poisonous gas engulfing our babies as they sleep and contrary to popular belief (mostly because I SAID I...didn't like them very much sometimes. When I'm TIRED (which could be argued is ALL THE TIME...)) I love them with every fiber of my being. That said, I did not want to panic. I also did not want THEM to panic. Mostly I did not want THEM to panic. Dave called 911, we carried each child with minimal belongings and plopped them in their car seats. About a second later, the fire trucks arrived. 11:30--I'm certain the neighbors LOVED that show! The paramedics told me all that I needed to know about going to the hospital and I was concerned with how my children would react. They were so understanding and as I opened the door we heard loud laughing coupled with "Yeaaaaaaahhhhh--wooo-hooooo--Fireside girls PAAAAAAARRRRRRRTTTTTYYYYY!" Not sure what it meant, but pretty sure I didn't have to worry about panic ensuing. That was close. You may think that they would be a bit freaked out about forty firemen and eleven paramedics in their driveway, but you would be wrong. You might think that they would be concerned when one of the firemen yelled, "It's at 96 upstairs...that's high--they should probably go to the ER," but again--you would be wrong. You may even think that two of them would be a bit freaked out when they were told they had to go in an ambulance on their own because only two patients were allowed in an ambulance at a time and you would again be wrong. In fact, when Brayden and Ryan heard (after clebrating the fact that they "...got to ride in an AMBULANCE..." that they were going to move to their own ambulance (I of course wanted to "break it to them" in a way that wouldn't scare them, but there was no time for that since they JUMPED OUT OF THEIR SEATS and said, "Let's go!" Sadly for them, the second ambulance had to actually DRIVE to our house, so they were stuck with me for ten more minutes. The paramedic gave them each a stuffed animal, which was so sweet. Of course, Brayden's bear said, "Daddy's Little Girl," so when I went back for my purse (and a lesson on woeter versus watter--Jersey-talk versus Buffalo talk) a purple boa intertwined its way around his body. QUITE the score for a seven-year-old. The poor lady who got stuck in THEIR ambulance is now up for saint...dom? ...hood? She's a saint. She told me my life story as we entered the hospital because it can evidently be told by a first and second grader in the fifteen minutes it takes to get to the hospital! I had one person asking about Montana and another telling me the Sabres lost (like my night wasn't crummy enough)! After vitals, we all entered our triage room. The entire Corwin clan in separate corners--FINALLY. I wish I had my camera. THAT would have been a GREAT Christmas photo--each of us in our separate corners hooked up to oxygen--unbelievable! Addison kept taking hers off to see what the numbers would do. Ryan kept asking Dave (who seemed to think that he was exempt from all of this...) questions like, "What is this I'm breathing?" "Oxygen, Ryan." "So air? I'm breathing AIR?" and, "Now what is the deal with carbon monoxide again? I wanna get this straight...can we go to a store or something after this?" Poor Brayden acted like an old pro--from taking the oxygen to giving his blood, nary a peep came out of that sweet boy. The fact that this was old hat to him was a little disconcerting, but at least it wasn't traumatizing, right? He even asked if we could just please sleep there. "I hope not..." was all I could grunt between puffs. At around 3:00 (YES...IN THE MORNING) we were deemed healthy and were discharged. The slumber party in triage came to an end. Corwin, party of five (plus a snake, a bunny and a crazy looking stuffed baby-doll--ALL wearing oxygen masks with bags) meandered out of the hospital, their goodbyes echoing through the hallway. Here we are at 4:21 and Dave is the only one out. They gave me meds that are so good, I'm afraid to sleep. As much fun as it was, I feel like I'm done with slumber parties. Especially those that happen at the hospital.