I about died

Sunday. Around 2:30 in the morning, a sleeping Pooh Bear in my bed woke us up because he was coughing. Our little party of five were all in the master bedroom because we had company so, their bedrooms were occupied. Anyway, I reach over to where Pooh is and can feel…some…wet chunks, to put it bluntly. Yup. Vomit. It's either puke or pee. Going on, Chris and I quickly leap into action: remove sick kid, remove the other kids, strip the bed as Chris showers Pooh, who is crying his little head off.  Finally get everybody settled back into bed and to sleep when around 4 in the morning…uh oh….I run to the bathroom and puke into the bucket I had set aside for Pooh. And as I'm hurling my little heart out ( TMI? Sorry. ) I'm thinking: but I only had a couple glasses of wine! Then I think…wait, when did I last have my…??? oh no…but no, I'm no Tori Spelling <wink, wink>.  Or perhaps FOOD POISONING! We had all eaten Pizza Haven but as far as I could tell, it was just me and Pooh to have lost our cookies eh, I mean pizza. He seemed fine upon waking up but I was near death Sunday, in a coma all day Monday, barely living on Tuesday and 95% better by Wednesday and Thursday. I feel great today, like 101% better! Not sure what it was but it was TERRIBLE. What made it more terrible? Knowing that my two older kids were basically taking care of themselves. Eating nothing but junk and watching nothing but junk as I laid barely alive in the next room. They were living it up. No one to tell them no…to anything. Then I had to will myself up to take care of the baby and honest to God, I hate to admit this but even that is a blur. Honestly, if child services had knocked on the door…know what I mean? Death, people…I was dying. As I puked up air, into a bucket of stale air. Air. And the whole time I'm thinking. No more babies. I'm done. The thought of getting sick like that EVER EVER EVER again. Done. Until I'm not done. Because I love having babies and I feel way better…now…and the kids keep asking when their other brother will be coming down from Heaven. Isn't that the cutest thing? Because we had no clue if Evie was going to be a boy or girl, we had a name picked out for both sexes and so, now they keep asking about the boy name. 

My point that I'm trying to make as I ramble is this: being sick sucks ass. It sucks big ass when you have little kids that scream "mama!?!" when you have your head in a bucket while you sit on the toilet. 

So, moving on:

this is what you get when you ask my three year old (aka Iron Man)
to pick up his room. He tried pulling the ol'  "Iron Man
don't cween"  card. Ha! Wanna make a bet, Iron Man?

even Iron Man gets a boo boo.

 This kid loves to leap off of furniture. He jumped from a chair, aiming for the deck swing, while it was swinging, causing him to miss the cushion but got full force of the metal bar. Right between the eyes. Think he'd stop? Don't you know?? NOTHING stops Iron Man!

she had her 6 year check up today


She was soooo afraid that she would be getting a shot that when ever anybody in a scrub would approach her, she
would say, "no shots please". She didn't receive any…this year.  She weighs 53 pounds and is almost 4 feet tall.
Now, I'm 4'11. Do you know how much it's going to suck having to look up to her when I ground her or lecture her
on anything in the near future?? Chris gets a good chuckle over this. Short sucks people.

Afterwards, we went to a local coffee shop where she tried on some stylish hats, ate a chocolate muffin and we had this sweet little conversation about ponies, mermaids, school and anything and everything that mattered to her today. The whole time I'm eating it up and thinking: I'm having a little outing with both of my girls. It was short and sweet because before we knew it, it was time to pick up Iron Man from his last day of  summer school. Which, by the way, he just loved. We came home, did some puzzles and just relaxed as I changed diaper after diaper…yup…thinking little Evie is coming down with whatever Pooh and I had.

 Followed by daddy coming home. We climbed into the trampoline and played a little game of Horse, Chris came up with this idea. Kids loved it. Ellie, not graceful ( poor girl, she is so much more like me every day) was the first to get Horse. Pooh, he has flexibility and can jump. I sat in the trampoline but on the side, holding Evie. Come next year, most likely, she'll be right in there bouncing and jumping with her older siblings. Afterwards, we all laid down and just looked up at the sky. And I'm thinking: Wow, I was ready to just die last week. Because people, it was like the death flu, not exaggerating. But today and tonight, I'm so thankful and grateful to be alive and have the awesome little family that I have.