The final piece of the puzzle...or is it?

Josie (my 5 yr. old) was sick with a low fever and just plain down for a couple days last week. Then, suddenly, she was better. Then suddenly, she wasn't.

She woke the next day with a rash all over her body. At first, I thought we had chicken pox (notice I say we because, as a mother, I think I experience a little of the infliction as well). But she had the vaccine at 1 yr. And yes, I know you can still get chicken pox even if you've had the shot, but this rash was WAY to heavy for a light case of CP. Plus she wasn't developing the all too familiar "pox". So I call a nurse and we decide (again with the "we") that it is hives. From what, we don't know but she tells me what to watch for and things to make her feel better.

My poor baby is just scratching and itching and scratching. These things are all over!!

The next day, the rash is even worse and she has a purple-ness under the rash. Now, purple is a color I was to watch for. For what reason and what it meant, I did not know at this point. I was soon to find out.

Back to the phone I go. The nurse (this is a nurse thru our insurance 1-800 number) tells me I need to get in contact with her doctor "NOW." Ummm...ok. It's a Sunday night, can I wait until Monday morning and just take her in?"NO!!" Ummm...ok.

So, I place a call to the clinic's number and of course, the answering service answers. The operator informs me that she will have our doctor call us.

A nurse calls us. I once AGAIN explain what's going on. No, no new foods. No, no new soaps No, NOTHING out of the ordinary.

She asks about the purple that has now spread all up her legs, her arms, even her face, although it is a very light purple.

She too says I must take her in. "NOW!" What is the urgency I ask. Well, turns out that lovely shade of purple could be, could be a sign of meningitis. Ummm.... NOT ok.

And just how do you test for meningitis? "A spinal tap is sometimes necessary so be prepared."

Be prepared? BE PREPARED?!! Ummm..... SO NOT OK!!!

Off we go to the ER. My heart pounding, Josie crying. I am praying like never before.

The triage nurse writes down all the important info, takes a look. And sends us to the waiting room. Where we wait. And wait. And wait. We're talking 2 hrs. with a 5 yr. old that is up 2 hours after her bedtime. At first I was angry that we were waiting so long. Until I asked WHY are we waiting so long? I was informed that the triage nurse decides the severity of the patient and who gets seen first.

I was never so relieved to be waiting!! At this point I figured that the nurse must not have thought Josie had anything too serious or we'd be seeing a doctor by now.

We finally did see a doctor who said it was just (ha! just) a bad case of hives. And we may never know what they were from.

We got home at about 2 a.m. where Josie says "That was fun!!" Oh, sweetie if you only knew what COULD have been.

I was so relieved all was well, I didn't care I only got 4 hours of sleep. I didn't care my child looked like a freak and people stared at the pharmacy the next day.

I knew already that as a parent,nothing, NOTHING matters more than your children. Their health and happiness.

Life is such a puzzle of emotions and feelings and ups and downs. And for me especially, I sometimes get all caught up in the tangible stuff. The housework, the bills, the tantrums and the fatigue (ok, fatigue is not tangible exactly but when I finally pass out at night I AM tangible).

But life is about much more important stuff. Life is thanking God about what COULD have been, but wasn't.

As far as the rest of the puzzle, THAT was in my shoe the other night. Seriously. You know, those wooden puzzles with the little red things that stick our for toddlers to easily grab? Yeah, about 20 pieces ( I think A-T) were in my tennis shoe.

Clean sheets

There will be no treasures found in our bed tonight because I have put clean sheets on the bed and cleaned up our room.
Maybe I should back track a little and explain that we have 4 kids in a 3 bedroom house. So, sometimes our room has to be a time out room or a nap room or movie room. Even though I hate this, I would LOVE our room to be an escape for my husband and I, it's just not realistic.

But every so often, (not often enough, I know) I thoroughly clean out our bedroom of all kid memorabilia and put nice clean sheets on the bed, rearrange furniture and swear that kids will no longer be allowed in our room. The "kid free zone" does not last long however and it's not long until we yet again find Nerf Gun darts in our bed.

But it's fun while it lasts.

Myths vs. Reality

MYTH:
If you are a stay at home mom, you do nothing all day but watch soaps and game shows and eat bonbons.

REALITY:
I did not know that our T.V. played anything other than Dora and Spongebob during the day!

MYTH:
If the previous MYTH is false, then you must bake cookies, do craft projects, have a spotless house and basically live the Martha Stewart life.

REALITY:
Does opening a tub of cookie dough count as baking? Oh, and I did put up another well done coloring page up on the fridge. Is that a craft project? And as far as the spotless house... ha! I did NOT find a banana in the couch...today.

MYTH:
If you stay at home, it must be because your husband makes a TON of money.

REALITY:
Although the life of a SAHM has it's own rewards, part of the truth is, there's no way we could put our kids in daycare. IF we even found a reliable, trustworthy daycare. My husband would have to make about $50 an hour to pay for daycare plus support all of us. Truth is, people have NO idea the sacrifices we make in order for me to stay at home. My kids wear hand me downs, we shop at discount food stores where you have to (gasp) bag your own groceries. We don't go on trips. We don't go out. We drive used cars/trucks. Our house is in constant need of repairs. Need I go on? We are one paycheck away from losing it all.

MYTH:
Being a SAHM is not fulfilling.

REALITY:
OK, maybe this one, for some people is true. If I'm honest, there are times where I feel like I've lost a little of my identity in the day to day process of diapers, noses, dishes and floors. BUT. OH. MY. GOD. The day to day process of hugs, kisses, giggles, silly jokes, first steps, first words, never ending energy (theirs, not mine), cuddles and the list goes on and on and on....

Turns out, you CAN take it with you!

My husband read my first entry the other night and asked "why are you writing about what the kids leave in our bed?" And I suppose that is a good question. Not that I would say that to him. I believe my response was more like " bug off!".

Some days, life gets just a little too close to the "too much to handle" side of parenthood. My kids are driving me bonkers, the house just won't stay clean, the dog threw up AGAIN, the phone is ringing AGAIN, the chicken is burnt and it doesn't matter because whatever I fix, the response is the same "ewwww.." and frankly, bedtime just doesn't come soon enough. For the kids and myself as well.

You know when you first fell in love with your husband/wife/boyfriend/girlfriend or whatever, and you'd catch a whiff of a smell, or hear a song, or see someone that reminded you of them and it was just make you happy? You'd be smiling that grin of only someone in love could smile. You'd start humming some lame brain song. You can't get off work fast enough to call them, you can't see them enough?

That's how I feel about finding cheerios, a hot wheel car, or one tiny Barbie shoe, in my bed. After the kids have been in bed and I have had a few minutes of quiet. Basically they have been out of my mind for a time. But, when I find that "treasure" left in my bed, I can't help but smile and think about the funny thing one or all of my "true loves" did that day.

Most of the time, my husband is oblivious to the objects in our bed. Mostly because he is so tired that he could fall asleep on a cactus and not notice. And when I show him the object he smiles but he hasn't been with them all day like I have so the "story" behind the object is lost on him.

The other night, he came home and handed me one sock belonging to child #4, approximately a size 24mo. So it was on the small size. I asked what the heck? He then told me how he had been working most of the day with this annoying "feeling" in his long sleeve shirt. He kept rubbing at it, pulling at it but the darn thing was still bugging him. He finally reached down the inside of the sleeve and found this sock. He knew it must have just gotten mixed up in the dryer but he still smiled because he knew who the sock belonged to and knew that the owner of said sock was an adorable 22 month old who was most likely driving his mother insane at that exact moment.

Finding the sock put a smile on his face and happy visions in his head. He had an "under the covers" moment, just at work. With his shirt and one little sock.

At least it wasn't a pair of undies!!

Explanation

First and foremost, if you are at this blog thinking, by the title, that this is going to be some story of my love life, you will be greatly disappointed. It is the farthest thing from that. Besides, there wouldn't be anything to write!

Actually, this is a blog about my life with my children, and a husband as well. I have 4. Children, not husbands. I stay home with them. The term would be "stay at home mom" but most days, I am anywhere but home. I have "drop off at preschool" twice a week, grocery shopping at least once a week, basketball/soccer/baseball or some sort of practice, church twice a week and other related events.

While at home I wish I could say that we spend quality time doing crafts and reading stories and that the house was constantly spotless. In truth, I clean all day (to no avail) and break up fights and beg for just a minute of quiet.

There is nothing profound and possibly to you, nothing all that interesting about my life. But, it is my life and it's crazy and wild and sweet and fun. I wouldn't trade it for anything.

At night, way too late at night, when I finally crawl into bed, settle down under the covers and get comfy, I all too often feel something under my pillow or down by my feet. There's something under the covers. Last night, it was one small glove. How did that get there? I have a pretty good idea that it was one of my children. Why is it there? I have no idea...

But I can't wait to find out...