I am writing this down because one day I may actually laugh about it. There is no need for you to read all the way through it unless you are really interested. :)
My grandmother's funeral was this weekend. Let me back up to the week before. The funeral was planned for the same weekend that Tim and I had plans for a 4 night getaway to Breckenridge. We were really looking forward to spending some time alone. Without 4 little cuties begging for our attention. Skiing. Romance. Snow. We cancelled our trip. It took my mom (yes, she really did call) and I at least 6 phone conversations before the hotel would refund all our money.
Wednesday Night: I return home from coffee with friends to find Tim headed upstairs with a bunch of cleaning supplies. I first thought maybe he had finally realized how dirty his sink was. . . nope. Joel had just thrown up. We moved Joel to our room where he threw up one more time and woke us up every couple of hours.
Thursday: Joel has fever all day. I attempt to pack all 4 kids and 2 adults worth of stuff in as few suitcases as possible to avoid checked baggage fees.
Friday Morning: We get up and leave on 7:20 am flight (that requires a 5am wake-up). We arrive in Dallas, meet my parents at the baggage claim, and leave our first mark of the weekend. Caleb throws up all over the floor. The crowd backs up. Tim has remnants all over his pants and shoes. We kindly leave the mess to the janitor and get into the car to head to Austin. Caleb continues to throw up every hr or so all the way there. We collect barf bags at every McDonald's. We arrive at the funeral home and hang outside while my parents finish with the service arrangements. Caleb continues to leave his mark on all the bushes outside. . . .and my mom barely saves the casket at one point.
Everyone looks so innocent here on the plane.
Totally oblivious to the rest of the day we are going to endure.
Pre-puke Caleb
Friday Evening: We finally arrive at hotel. Caleb and Levi have fevers. I leave to get some medicine and baby supplies with my Great Aunt Lula Margaret. We return to the hotel to find that Levi has thrown up in his pack-n-play. He also throws up in our bed. Children take turns coughing and crying throughout the night. Around midnight I check on Caleb and realize that he has diarrhea-ed in his bed. Tim takes all the sheets downstairs and gets a fresh pair. We move the boys around and re-make the bed. Calm returns. Until Joel wakes up and throws up. We get him back to bed and I call the pediatric off-hours line to avoid panicking. I talk to him for at least 30 minutes, and he walks through a recovery plan for each of the boys. (Thank you, Children's Mercy!) Around 4am, Tim and I finally get to sleep.
Saturday: Tired, whiny children, but no puking. Tim stays behind with 3 younger boys while I take Joel to the family luncheon. Tim arrives with kids just in time for funeral. This may sound strange, but it was the best part of the whole weekend. My dad did a great job organizing the service. He made a video with pictures of my Grandma, and I found out some new things about her life. It was nice to hear about how other's knew her and their memories of her. We went to the graveside where Josiah kept informing us that he needed to go to the bathroom. . . #2. (We are way out in the middle of nowhere in a cemetery). We eat dinner with family and head back to the hotel. Except we run out of gas. Levi is hysterical at this point. Thankfully, after a 45 minute wait, my uncle brings us gas and my parents come to assist us.
Sunday: After breakfast, we take Levi to urgent care. He was coughing a lot and seemed lethargic. While there, he has diarrhea. . . .which doesn't stop even when we attempt to change his diaper. The doctor checked all the majors (ears, lungs, etc) and concludes that he is just not feeling well but will be fine. We start the drive back to Dallas. After about 45 minutes, we stop for a bathroom break and Tim gives me Caleb who is crying about his tummy. Caleb proceeds to throw up again. And then again 30 minutes later in the car. The second time is enormous - he had eaten a full breakfast and someone (ahem) that was not me gave him an entire smoothie to drink. I managed to catch most of it in the bag, but my hands are covered. I heave a few times. . . . and cry for the umpteenth time this weekend. Somehow we make it back to Dallas. Get the kids to bed, and I go to bed before 9pm. Levi wakes up an coughs/cry about every 30 minutes.
Aunt Tessie rocks Levi to sleep for a little nap before we head to the urgent care.
Monday: We get up at 4:30am and catch 7:10am flight back to Kansas. Tim heads into work. Three younger boys all take 4 hour naps. Praying we are on our way back to health and a drama-free week!
***UPDATE from original posting that I posted just an hr before the following occurred.
Tuesday: Caleb wakes up around 10pm screaming about his tummy hurting again. I called the nurse line and she told me to take him straight to the emergency room. He screamed all the way there and for the 20 minutes while in the waiting room. Within 5 minutes of being shown to our room, he pukes....again. After x-rays, they decide that his belly is having a hard time recovering from the virus and is so full of gas and stool that he is unable to get anything through it. They give him a suppository, Caleb leaves a small deposit and given the ok home with the promise of a full day of Miralax on Wednesday. Lovely.
It is now Friday evening and I NOW believe we may be through with all this.
Special shout-outs to:
My parents for loving us anyways and holding all our sick babies.
My uncle for bringing gas.
My mother-in-law who brought us dinner when we got back in town.
My sweet friends who brought me some groceries and are providing dinners for the next 3 nights.
And most of all - my husband. He wins the award for the best husband and dad ever. He remained calm the entire time, cleaned up more bodily fluids than can be imagined, held me when I cried, and took care of our sick boys so I could spend a little time with my extended family.
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