Why I love Ross

I wrote earlier about the birthday party my daughter went to. I love shopping for birthday parties, especially when they're for 5 year old girls. There's nothing more enjoyable than finding fun girl things. I especially like Ross (and Marshall's and TJ Maxx) for this sort of thing. Here's what I found for this particular cute birthday girl:



fun, stylish sweater and pants set. Seriously, they make the coolest clothes for little kids these days! And, 5 year olds don't care if it came from Ross.

Also found:



fun, stylish packaging for said present (and better yet - no wasteful spending on wrapping supplies that get torn up and discarded). I don't know about other 5 year old's out there, but mine loves loves loves boxes. This is right up her alley and only cost about $5.

Total cost for all items: $21.

Now I just need to find some more birthday girls to shop for. This is an addiction--a serious addiction. I can foresee how becoming a grandparent is going to financially destroy me.

Things I learned from the swine flu

Our house got hit with the swine flu last Tuesday. My daughter brought it home from either school or church; it's hard to say where, since both places were teeming with it.



Here's what I learned from our encounter with H1N1:

1 - It spreads quick. The absences from my daughter's class are happening 5 at a time, for a week at a time. It seems like everyone in our little community has had it.

2 - It presents with drastically different symptoms for everyone. My daughter had it the worst of our family--she had a high fever, a sore throat, a lingering cough, nausea, and extreme tiredness. For the rest of us, it was a mix of milder symptoms. For me, it came in the form of severe all-over muscle cramps, a fever for a day, and exhaustion. It took a few days for my kidneys to forgive me. My firefighter had horrible abdominal cramps, but no fever. My baby was feverish for a day, but never developed a cough. My 3 year old was lucky enough to have received the vaccine during his 3 year check-up.

3 - Just when you think it's gone, the fever resurfaces. My daughter was fever free for a full two days when it came back.

4 - One dose of the vaccine is enough to keep the flu at bay, at least it was for my 3 year old. He's getting his booster dose next week anyway, just in case.

5 - Being fever free and loaded with candy made for a very happy weekend for all.

Firefighter Parking

Some of the firefighter-related objects that enter our house are hard to find a home for.

Others are easy.

Evolution

What comes to mind when you hear the term "evolution?" Probably something similar to what used to come to my mind...



Darwin



Apes



the walking fish...



You know, the standard stuff. Yeah, I used to think of those things too when I heard the word. However, my perception of the term "evolution" has changed, thanks to my firefighter's career.

Now I think of evolution as in doing an evolution--being timed while doing hose lays,





and throwing ladders,





and hauling tools around,





and doing practice rescue-y stuff.





We watched The Academy last night, a show detailing the rigorous firefighter academy for Orange County. It is painfully similar in intensity, length, training, injuries, even down to stealing the guidon, to the academy that my firefighter attended. In it, they detail an evolution. If you have a spare hour, you can give it a watch here.

In Sickness and in Health (and Alone)

When I signed up for this job, or at least signed my husband up for this job (and I feel like I did sign up, since I'm the one who filled out the applications to all the fire departments), I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew that as a mom, I would have periods of time when my husband would be inaccessible, short of a family emergency. I'd have days where I would just have to make it work on my own.

Yesterday was such a day. My firefighter had the day off, and we were asleep when the phone rang at 6:45 in the morning. I instantly woke up and knew what it meant.

"Honey... HONEY! Wake up!"

"Huh? What?"

"Answer the phone."

"...Huh? What?"

"Work is calling."

"...oh."

Yeah. "Oh." That about sums it up. We had a big day planned yesterday. Some of the activities we had planned that day could be skipped, but my daughter had her heart set on going to her friend's birthday party and attending a Trunk or Treat that evening. She has been talking about them for days; letting her go was an easy decision. Problem is, we only have one car still. In order to get her to her activities, it meant that we all had to get up as quickly as possible and drive my husband to work, an hour away.

My firefighter jumped in the shower and I ran downstairs to get the various bottles and beverages ready for the diaper bag. I shoved the kids' shoes in my over-sized tote, just in case they would need to get out of the car for some reason. My daughter looked confused when I woke her up. Her hair was a ratty mess. There was no time to fix it. She went potty while I woke up the baby, who had been up and down all night anyway, and buckled him into his car seat. He grinned at me the whole time. He's always up for an adventure.

My 3 year old is usually happy to go on a car ride, too. I woke him up, quickly changed his diaper, and carried him down to the car in his jammies. My groggy daughter made it down, my firefighter clipped the carseat into it's base, and I did a quick run through of the needed items.

Two loveys and a blanket. Check.
Bottles. Check.
Shoes. Check.
Peace-keeping snacks. Check.
Paci. Check.



We got all buckled in and watched the sunrise as we drove through the hills. My 3 year old excitedly pointed out all the wind turbines and big trucks, and hid in his loveys when the sunlight hit his face. My daughter and the baby fell asleep. My firefighter and I talked about how excited we were to finally get an extra day of pay, after an uncommon six week overtime dry spell. We could really use the money and we discussed how to best spend it.

After dropping him off, the kids and I came back home. My daughter decided it was time to get ready for the birthday party, 6 hours early. Getting tired of the incessant "is it time to go yet?" I piled the kids in the stroller and decided that a nice slow walk to the party would be a good way to speed up departure time. She loaded her present into the basket and we took off. The boys are usually just as excited about a stroller ride as they are about a car ride. Still, I couldn't help but wish that my firefighter were home to take care of the boys while I took my daughter to her party.



After the party, we all got ready for the trunk or treat that evening. Again, I wished that my husband could help. It took a couple of hours to somehow work in a shower and get them all diapered, cleaned up, dressed in their costumes, fed, happy, and ready to go. I went through my mental checklist of things to bring for the second time that day.

Have you ever taken three young children to an exciting outdoor party on your own? It's not as simple as one might think. The logistics are difficult. The 5 year old wants to run off to be with her friends but still needs supervision, the three year old just wants to run off, and the baby wants to be held because of all of the over-stimulation. Yesterday was a perfect example of what problems might arise in this situation.

Problem 1: I somehow forgot the paci at home. That meant that the baby was NOT going to be happy at some point.

Problem 2: As we were pulling in alongside the other vehicles getting ready for the trunk part of the trunk or treat, my daughter declared that she was car sick (something that has been happening a lot lately).

Problem 3: My 3 year old is sensitive to others and was crying over the discomfort of the other two. He kept reminding me to put the paci in. I tried to explain that we don't have it, but there's only so much he understands when he's upset.

Thankfully, once I got everyone out of the car, my daughter said she felt fine. The younger two were content to be pushed in the stroller as I followed my daughter around to keep an eye on her. I took some pictures and was happy that the evening had turned out to be so manageable, aside from the one moment when I dropped my camera and watched pieces of plastic pop off.





This is where things REALLY started to go downhill as a single mom for a day.

The baby, as I knew would happen, got fussy once we stopped moving so I had him in my arms. We were all sitting on hay bales watching a movie when my daughter declared that she was, after all, still sick from the car. She heaved and put her hand to her mouth. My 3 year old was still happily strapped into the front seat of the stroller, enthralled with the movie, bless his heart. I had to make a split second decision--there were too many obstacles and people to be able to take the stroller inside and make it on time. I could either stay with the stroller and let my daughter vomit in public, or leave the stroller and help her find the bathroom. I chose the second option, since there were other parents nearby. My daughter, the baby and I ran inside and found the bathroom in time. I worried about leaving my 3 year old alone out there the whole time and hurried her up.

She washed up and felt much better after that, and things looked up again--especially after a kind lady offered to hold my baby for me while I took the other two around to collect candy. The second time my daughter needed to go potty, we all went. I hefted the double stroller over curbs and rolled it through the hall inside, while carrying the baby in my other arm. We waited by the door while my daughter finished up. They were decorating pumpkins just outside a nearby door, so we went out that way.



My daughter, dressed as a princess, bent over to inspect the pumpkin that she had just hefted to the ground. She hesitated and declared that she was going to throw up again. My heart sank. This clearly was not just a case of car sickness; she had a bug. And, she was going to throw up and share it with everyone. The door we had just come out of was locked from the outside going in. It was dark by then. I told her to throw up in a nearby bush. She wasn't listening--she took off running in a flurry of pink and white tulle. I yelled after her, and tried to work my way around the throng of children with the double stroller.

I didn't know which way she had run in the darkness, but figured she had tried to get to the other door to make it to the bathroom. She knew the way by then. For the third time, I hefted the double stroller over all the obstacles and made my way to the bathroom. Thankfully, that's where she was. Only this time she hadn't made it to the toilet in time. She cried as she showed me that her costume was covered in vomit.

After cleaning her up and promising her that I would be able to clean her costume in time for the real Halloween, we headed straight for the car. As I stretched the seat belt over my daughter's yucky costume, I felt her forehead--no fever. Phew. The baby cried the whole way home, wanting his paci. My middle child cried in sympathy and pleaded for me to help the baby, whom I could not reach, let alone help. My daughter sat quiet and sallow and was sad that she didn't get to decorate her pumpkin.

It was a loud, pitiful trip. I got home and unloaded them one by one. After stripping all costumes off, I showed my daughter her pumpkin and the decorations I had grabbed. That cheered her up and she set about decorating it. She threw up another two or three times. Meanwhile, I put the boys in bed.

When I came out after settling the other two down, I saw that my daughter had crawled into bed and had already fallen to sleep. That was a first.

Yesterday was definitely one of those days when I wish that my firefighter had been here to help out. Yet, as much as I missed him, and even though I am certain there will be more days like yesterday, I wouldn't want him to be in any other career. His job satisfaction affects the whole house. He absolutely loves what he does. Not only that, but it allows me to do what I absolutely love--be home with the children--even on vomit days. The perks are too great to pass up, for either of us.

My daughter ended up sleeping through most of the night, and when she did have to throw up again, she did it quietly in her own bathroom and went back to bed on her own. This morning she said that she put herself to sleep and didn't tell me when she was sick again because she didn't want to get me sick. What a little sweetheart!!

(As I write this, she is happily playing. She hasn't thrown up all day and only had a low grade fever early this morning. I'm thinking it must have been food poisoning.)

Time of death

My firefighter got toned out for a possible heart attack the other day. It was bright and early, and he and the firefighter he works with both had the same thought. First thing in the morning is when paramedics declare a lot of deaths. That's when the calls come in for elderly people who woke up to find their spouse had passed away in the middle of the night. At least the calls are for people who passed in a fairly ideal way.

Sure enough, this was one of those calls. It was at an assisted living community and the man had flat-lined before my firefighter even arrived on scene. The gentleman was gone, but since there were no obvious signs of death, my firefighter went through all of the motions--CPR, drugs, cardiac monitor, start an IV--just in case, and because that's the law. He was kneeling over this man, doing CPR, right by the front door. Proper CPR means breaking ribs. He felt all but one of them pop on the first compression and could tell that the man had osteoporosis. He sent another firefighter to find out if the man had a DNR (do not resuscitate) order.



The death itself happened peacefully, but the aftermath was anything but peaceful. The other residents of the assisted living community were treating this as a spectacle. Instead of giving the family and the emergency personnel their space, they all came out to see what was going on. Not only did they come out of their houses, which I can understand, but they tried to open the door and actually come in to the apartment where my firefighter was working. Here was my firefighter, doing CPR on a man, trying to keep the door shut with his foot while he worked. He said that around 40 people tried to come in. The community was predominantly not english speaking, but I think they understood what he meant when my firefighter yelled "NO!" at them. That didn't stop them from trying.

One man was especially tenacious. He did speak English, and when my firefighter was standing outside at the end of the call, he came up to find out what had happened. The man wanted to know which apartment the dead man was in. My firefighter didn't tell him. So, undeterred, he went around and just started opening residents' doors to see if he could find the right house, not even knocking first.

If people are that curious when I pass away peacefully in my sleep, I hope that at the very least, they do something useful--like bring a plate of cookies for my family and the emergency personnel. I might be convinced to overlook the intrusion if there are cookies involved.

Insomnia

It happens more often than not. I don't know why. But for some reason, I can never get to sleep at a decent hour when my firefighter is at work. Usually, the days he's gone are long and I look forward to that time when I can crash in bed and think of nothing in particular. I spend the better part of the day planning to put the kids to bed early, have a bowl of ice cream, watch a chick flick, and get to bed on time.



However, it never works out that way. I usually end up staying awake later than I do on nights when my firefighter is home. I end up on the computer, trying not to let the worries creep into my mind, or just enjoying my me time.

The other time I get insomnia is when I've had Excedrin. I'm really sensitive to the caffeine and I've been known to stay up all night if I take it too late in the day. The good news is that my sensitivity to it makes it super effective on migraines. Some things are worth a lost night of sleep.

Especially lately, when I get so little sleep as it is with my youngest waking up so often, it's rare for me not to be able to fall asleep. But, here I am, still up, while everyone else is blissfully sleeping. I've got no caffeine in my system, and my firefighter (who does, ironically, have Excedrin in his system--he got his second ever migraine today), is home tonight, sleeping in the other room.

I've got a lot on my mind tonight, which must be the root of the problem. I've been thinking about my now 3 year old.



He recently had his birthday, which he adored.



He also recently had a near miss with the swine flu. It struck literally half the kids who attended the church nursery last week. Thankfully, I kept him home with me that day, since he had a slight cold, and I had a migraine (I'm noticing a theme here). He has since had the vaccine, so hopefully he doesn't get hit by it at all.

I've also been thinking about my restless, non-sleeping youngest. We recently added solids to his repertoire in the hopes that it would help him sleep through the night.



It did not. In fact, he woke up right in the middle of this post, about the time I was searching for a picture of Mr. Darcy.

Since being up in the middle of the night seems pretty much unavoidable these days, I've decided that I need to change insomnia from being a frustrating time to being a happy time. I'm thinking that it's time to resurrect the stash of M&M's, only to be eaten in the middle of the night. That should do the trick.

I don't have any M&M's tonight, but I do have a mug of raspberry hot chocolate. So, cheers.



Here's to the new happy hour.

(Ummm... yeah... about that diet...)