Wednesday evening, directly after dinner, in the mad rush we go through every week at this time...Olivia announced she had a headache. Yes, two seconds before we were blowing out the door to Awana. I poured some Tylenol down her throat and we were off. It seemed a little odd that two hours later, upon pick-up, she still had the headache but I chalked it up to needing some sleep. She never sleeps. She will tell you so.
I woke up Thursday morning to a groggy Olivia who still had a headache. Upon kissing her sweet face it seemed she had a fever too. I immediately
started thinking of the hundreds of kids that she has just given something to gave her another dose of Tylenol. Then she told me that her stomach hurt too. I gave her the normal line of hurting stomach questions and she informed me she wouldn't be eating. So, I sent a text to Meme. That is what you do. You want the nurse to have all of the details from the beginning. Then I had to text her 75.4 minutes later to tell her that we had two more down. Three fevers, one house.
After 14 billion requests for juice, ice, blankets, something to do, nose wipes, and hugs I survived the day. Until I put Allye to bed with her runny/stuffy nose. I will never understand how the nose works. Not breathing well through the nose + not able to suck the pacifier = crying baby. All.night.long. I sent a text to Man to get some wall plug-ins on his way home from work. He did. At like midnight. I know. He's a dream.
I thought it would be wise to put myself to bed early so I tucked in at ten, only to fall asleep to her whimpers and moans. Then I woke up every h.o.u.r after that because my body did not know what I did to it. (It doesn't see the bed that early...ever.) Then at 2:30 I awoke to sudden movements in the bed and lots of furry stuff rubbing on my feet. We don't own a dog. It was Man. From what I could see with my night vision, he was belly crawling under the covers. His feet were hanging off the side of the bed and then it happened....thump. His head met the foot board. I sat up in bed and with my best stage whisper said, "Are you all right?" He said, "Yes." I went back to sleep, until the next hour.
I decided to get up early since I didn't have anything better to do. I had also decided in one of my awake moments during the night that I was taking Allye to the doctor because it was Friday and we all know how that goes when you don't go and you wait and think you can make it to Monday. I quickly met Olivia and Addison and their foreheads...that were slightly fevered. No breakfast needed. They weren't eating. So as Man, Allye, and I ate some breakfast I figured I might want to know what was happening in our bed last night. He informed me that he was told to shoot at a glass in our kitchen so he low crawled under the covers and got ready to take aim into our kitchen. I am not kidding about this. I was trying not to laugh. He was dead serious. This sooooo reminded me of when he slept walk for the entire month before we had Olivia. He would put on his shoes and go to the back door then come back to bed. He's going to kill me for this.
Anyway, I was off with Allye to the doctor that morning and after she was thoroughly investigated and all ears deemed well I was questioned further about the two big girls. I explained their symptoms and I wish you knew Ms. Lela (our favorite nurse practitioner) she looked at me and said, "I think you need to be gettin' those girls in here today to see me. Sounds like they have strep throat." It was as if she stamped Mother of the Year on my forehead. I told her they would be here momentarily as they were already in route so their father could go to work. She promptly had the charts pulled and asked me to take my sweet self to the lobby and sign them in. I did it right away because you do what Ms. Lela says, no questions asked. And when she looked into Olivia's throat she did that thing where you know you are in trouble as a kid and she said, "Uhhhhh, huh." Two swabbed throats later and we were strep negative but apparently these mouths had the smell that only someone who has smelled something so awful knows about and they were sent home with antibiotics. 'Cause she knows better then any test. Apparently.
So, once again I am up for Mother of the Year. I took my "well" sick kid to the doctor in a frenzy and left my death bed kids well...on their death beds.
Olivia announced this morning at breakfast (where everyone was eating once again), "it is a miracle, God healed us overnight!" She did not find the humor when I added, "Yes, with the help of the Z-pak." Can I get an Amen?