Let's start with the past week. Last Wednesday started out pretty normal, until hubs got a call that his dad was being transported to HUP via ambulance because his local hospital wasn't equipped to handle him. Father-in-law, with a history of heart issues, had been having some chest pains and went to his routine appointment thinking he would have some caths replaced. When the doctors took a look they deemed it much worse and ordered open heart surgery. When hubs said it was likely we'd have to cancel plans for the wedding he was in on Friday, I realized this was pretty serious.
Sis-in-law came down right away and she and hubs went down to spend time with their dad before his surgery, which was scheduled for Thursday morning. After Gobbles got a horrible nights' sleep on Wednesday, he slept in pretty late Thursday, so despite having a few showings and a vet appointment, I kept both kids home with me as well. As soon as we woke up we called hubs for an update. The Penn doctors had re-reviewed Pop's charts, and decided that they could do what the doctors at the other hospital weren't capable of, and place a few stints in the arteries at his heart. Everyone was relieved to hear this because the risks and recovery are so much better. Instead of being in the ICU for over a week, he'd only be in for a day or so. By Thursday afternoon, hubs decided we would be attending the wedding, but he wouldn't be making the rehearsal which was Thursday evening 3 hours away in North Jersey.
Meanwhile, at home, the battle over bedtime continued with Gobbles' nap not happening because of the timing of the vet appointment, the Lobster Roll's nap was not happening because of Gobbles' incessant screaming, and I was an emotional mess because I had spent the day contemplating hubs' health fate since he has the same heart as his father, who had his first attack in his early 40s. So by the end of the day all I wanted was a glass of wine and a hug from my husband. My mother, God Bless Her, took the kids 12 hours earlier than planned - that evening instead of the next day. As exhausted as we were, hubs and I took advantage and went out for a last minute late dinner, down at our new favorite suburban byob - Styers Garden Cafe at Terrain. Farm fresh 5 course tasting. YUM.
The next morning was more running around as hubs gave the lawn a much needed mow (for the weekend's showings), and I ran the dogs down to the boarder and got a quick haircut. We were finally wedding-bound with my sister in tow around noon (her hubs, also in the wedding, had gone up Thursday). We got a text from said brother in law when we were still on the road asking how far we were - as hubs was needed for pictures. Hilarity ensued as we drove up the highway while he tried to put on a three piece tailed tux in the backseat. We finally got to the hotel, after first going to the wrong one (two Hyatt's in the same town? Stupid jersey!) just as the wedding party was ready to go. Sis and I rushed off to get ready.
The wedding ceremony was beautiful, and this couple is one of my favorite couples - they're the type that are so genuinely sweet and considerate that they almost make me feel bad about myself for being the a-hole that I am. Having been to a million church weddings including my own, they're typically all the same. This one was even more beautiful though because the groom had recently converted so the couple was all involved in the church, and the priest was able to speak about them as he knew - it really made the ceremony extra special. And the food at the reception? I knew it was going to be good considering we were in North Jersey / practically Manhattan, but I didn't realize I'd be scraping clean the crab dip pot or chasing around the lamb chop guy during cocktail hour. I normally don't even like lamb chops. Of course I drank my fill (plus some) and partied the night away, with just a few breaks to pump in the bathroom when the milk started to flow...
Next morning, or should I say 3 hours after I went to bed, I woke up with horrible horrible pain in my boobs, and a little in my head. Thinking my mastitis had returned, I went into the bathroom and pumped pumped pumped, but nothing was coming out. Of course I didn't drink enough to replace the pumping dehydration, let alone deal with the hangover, so I was in rough shape by the time we checked out and went to breakfast. I couldn't get down any of the food because my chest hurt too much and just wanted to get into the car and hooked up to the pump, thinking if I could relieve the chest pain the rest of me would feel better. It was a temporary solution, and as hubs drove I finally got some milk out and got them to unclog. Just as I got my pump put away, the queasiness set in. I had just enough time to grab a gallon sized ziploc bag that was intended to carry pump parts before i lost it. The few bites of breakfast and the dinner the night before... let's just say the bag was full when we pulled over on the side of the road to dump it... ugh. I'm just glad I was neat about getting sick and that the bag had no holes.... And I'm mad at myself because I'm not going to be able to drink my face off at a wedding this coming weekend for fear of not recovering in time for my first day of work (Sorry Kite!). #breastfeeding momma problems, ha!
Anyway, back to the last week, so Saturday and half of Sunday were spent recovering, and off to the local funfair we went on Sunday afternoon. I think my poor son is more fearful than me - we were in line for these dogs that went around in a circle (think dumbo ride, but smaller), and he lost it. No Dogs! They scare me! They go in a circle buds, come on! So I asked if he wanted the school bus instead, which basically went around in a vertical circle (like a ferris wheel but really small). He agreed. No sooner had the guy shut the door to the ride when Gobbles let out a WAIL. Like he was being tortured, he started screaming - Get off. Get OFF. I DONT LIKE IT GET OFF!! So yea he kinda ruined it for everyone around us, oh well. Live and learn. We decided no more motion rides, and I took him on this plaything where you walked through a hall of mirrors, up some steps, then down a slide. Nope, wouldn't take that either. At this point we were kinda over the fair and walked home, Gobbles whining the whole way.
It wasn't until after dinner that we realized why - the poor kid had a fever of 102. We started rattling off the list - does your belly hurt? No. Throat hurt? No. Teeth Hurt? No. Ear Hurt? No. no. no. Since everything was a no and 102 isn't high we let it go figuring we'd see how he was. The only problem was that he was so cranky and so whiny so we kept him home from school Monday. The fever came and went over Monday so I called the peditrician on Tuesday and they said with no other symptoms just keep monitoring it and resting. By Tuesday afternoon he was fine and we planned to bring him back to school Wednesday. Of course that's when it hit. Gobbles went to bed ok Tuesday night, cranky and exhausted from me having had to drag him out of the house for a showing and for my eye dr appointment (trying to get it all in before I go back to work). He woke up in the middle of the night sweating profusely and screaming. His face was pale and he looked like he had jumped from a swimming pool into bed, so we changed him and paged the pediatrician. A few minutes later he was sleeping soundly again, this time in our bed. We all fell asleep assuming the pediatrician would call back if it was something to be worried about - I'd had a hunch that I've just never seen a child sweat out a fever.
The doctor called back in the morning and told us to bring him in just to be safe, so they checked and turns out my boy had viral tonsillitous! His throat was enflamed but strep cultures came back negative, meaning he could return to school upon feeling better. (His fever didn't come back after Tuesday night). He spend Wednesday watching episode after episode of Barney (thank you Netflix for the damn Adventure Bus and your damn songs about elephants and pizza). He also took a long nap and woke up in the cold sweat again, but finally, after sleeping all night last night, woke up bright and cheery and ready for school (until we got there).
Dropoff today was pure hell because he'd been out for a week straight, I could only imagine how horrible he'd be if he had spent 3 months at home with me - it would have taken a month to get back into the routine instead of a day. And my poor lil lobster roll was in school all week being a happy smiley angel because I wanted to keep her away from Gobbles in case he was contageous. Today they're both there so I can clean up the house and get prepped for work and all (and heck, we're paying for it), and tomorrow I'll have one last day off with my little girl - manis pedis perhaps?
So to sum up we've had a rough week in this house...
but we've come out full of smiles:
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