Murphy's Law Can Suck It!!!

Here is the obvious definition of "Murphy's Law" -

Anything that can go wrong, WILL go wrong.

Here is MY definition of "Murphy's Law" -

If Hun goes out of town on business, all hell breaks loose...

Remember this Post

It seems like the little stress I encounter on any average day is just not enough. I did not mention yesterday that Hun was out of town, because I am trying to avoid meeting the few insane people who read my blog, uninvited at 2 in the morning, in my bedroom. But of course he was out of town, for the first time since before Passover (and most certainly the last for quite some time), leaving me to tend to quite an ill child, another child who got some major tongue lashing from her Mama when I heard the words "I wish I was sick too" come out of her six and a half year old pie hole and a one month shy of turning three years old boy who just decided now to enter his terrible twos.

Shall I explain?

At 3 in the morning Wednesday (after getting to bed late because of the unexpected necessary vomit clean up in aisle - Ro) I was woken up by shower, shaver and rattling belt as Hun prepared to leave to the airport. Just when I thought it was safe to fall back asleep, Ate decided it was time to wake up crying for his father (who I could not nudge out of bed to take care of said crying child - because he was now on his way to a childless and wifeless vacation business trip). So after needing five minutes and a small crane to roll over and get myself out of bed, I made it to Ate's room where he was sitting up on his crib mattress which is not in the crib, but on the floor, crying and speaking incoherently.

This is where I digress to mention that this past Sunday, Ate officially decided it was time to escape from his crib when he was put in for a nap. When Ate went from singing "The Wheels On The Bus Go Round And Round" to complete quiet just after hearing the loudest "THUD" one could imagine, I just knew what we would encounter. And there he was - in the hallway, with his green blanket, half giggling. I suspect he was only HALF giggling because it was maybe not his intention to actually get out of the crib and may not have been the most pleasant experience for him. We put him back in the crib and asked him to show us what he did to escape, but he adamantly refused. I suspect he lifted his waist above the railing and just flipped right over... Either way, I can no longer keep him in his crib. But I was hoping for a few more months of Ate containment, because I am just not ready to make all the bedroom shifts I need to make amongst the kids and prospective child.

So back to 4 am Wednesday - he was sitting there on his floored crib mattress and would not give me any specific reason why he suddenly was crying for his father. I suspect he has some really incredible instincts and intuition like his mother, and this is also why he has become a terror lately and is testing more boundaries - because he knows something is coming and his family placement is in jeopardy. So he probably knew his father just left the State and he needs to cause me more lack of sleep. He ended up in Hun's bed, tossing and turning for another hour. It was not until after 5 am that he fell asleep, and so I could not fall asleep until he was out.

Now if you backtrack to my day yesterday, taking care of Ro, and add to it some lost hours of sleep and keep in mind my practically fully grown load that I can not yet put down in a crib or a baby swing... And you imagine Ate spending the day emptying buckets of blocks and cartons of 100 piece puzzles and bins full of toys for no other reason than to make a mess and wait for my response so he can laugh at me as I clean it up for the eighth time... This is obviously still not enough stress to complete my day.

No, I need more. Pile on the stress, and keep in mind that Hun is not coming home tonight. Hun will not be returning until Thursday. So I still have bewitching hour and supper and bedtime, and I am just certain that will all go smoothly.

HA!!!!

So is home and needs some attention, obviously she says, "I wish I was sick too" because she is not getting attention. No - she says it because she is not getting cups of ginger ale and freeze pops like her semi-conscious, roasting, tummy-clutching sister. I gather this because, the time I spent with her sitting on my non-existent lap listening to her about celebrating "Israel Independence Day" in school with falafel for lunch and blue and white cupcakes and games that won prizes and camel rides, was not enough attention. After she made her little, wanna be sick too, comment - I sent her to the other room with a book - "The Secret Garden" to be more specific, about a boy who can not walk and really would like to.... hmmmmm!!! I needed to finish making supper and was none too happy with her antics.

Well Ate decided to go off to the next room and hang with So. And about five minutes later, more fun for the Pregnant, thinly spread Mommy...

Ate was crying a nasty shriek and I figured So maybe, had a role in his latest outburst, but when I looked back into the living room, So had her nose buried in her book and Ate looked like he was clutching his hand.

I ran in there and asked So what happened, at which point she looked over towards the wall and said,

"I don't know, he was standing over there, and then he started crying."

I looked towards the wall and saw an outlet that had a light timer (that was not attached to the light) hanging halfway out of a socket, and then looked towards my shrieking child who kept rubbing at his right fingers, and almost went into labor right there.

I knew he must have gotten quite a shock, to be crying like that, but he was not letting me get a good look at his fingers. And frankly, his hair always looks like he stuck his finger in a socket, so that was not telling me anything either.

But I was worried. Because, even though he did not get enough voltage to be completely electrocuted, was not knocked unconscious, and from the little I could see, did not have singe marks on his finger, he was still inconsolable and grabbing at his fingers. One can not be too passive when a two year old gets shocked at an outlet, because it is possible that the electrical current has caused changes in the heart rhythm or has traveled enough to cause other damage. So I thought, I can not believe I now might have to take him to the ER, on top of everything else, and Hun is not around... AAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!

I called the Doctor's office first, it was now 6:45 pm. I thought it was after hours and a message service would page the Doctor and have him call me. But I think the office answered. After giving some information to, the secretary (maybe) she put me on hold and came back to tell me that the nurse said, I should bring him to the ER and have him evaluated because of his young age. If I had my mind at the time, I would have insisted on speaking to the Doctor, or at least to the nurse directly. But I just hung up and burst out crying. This is not what I wanted to hear. She said, take him to the ER, and I heard -

find someone to come over and watch your other kids, including an extremely sensitive fevered child, at the worse time of night, while you sit in an ER waiting room for 2 hours with a crap load of sneezing, coughing, dripping people who all think they have the swine flu, thus exposing your healthy child to worse problems when most probably he is fine and will want to watch the fishies swimming in the waiting room aquarium even when they finally call him to listen to his heart beat with the same stethoscope I have in my own house, just to say he is fine. (Whew, RUN ON like never before.)

So I called my Mom and I have no idea how she understood me through my sobbing, but she told me she would come over in ten minutes.

But then, I collected myself a bit and decided to call the ER. I asked the person who answered if she was a nurse or Doctor,

"No".

"Can I please speak to a nurse or Doctor"?

"To be honest, I don't think I can get a nurse or Doctor to the phone because we are so swamped tonight".

SEE - Damn swines - swamping the ER tonight with coughing, sneezing, drippy people.

"Well I need to know if I should bring my 2 year old in... blah.. blah... blah".

"Does he have a pre-existing heart condition"?

"No".

"You should probably, actually, NOT bring him in".

Yeah, I could hear it in her definitive tone - don't bring him here amongst the swine people...

Anyway, I don't even know who I was speaking to. Secretary? Maybe I was accidentally transferred to a patient in the Psych ward when I called the Hospital, and she was "playing" authority figure, but my gut told me to go with her advice.

At this point, Ate stopped crying with an offering of ginger ale and was still rubbing at his fingers a bit, but seemed fine enough to appease me. So I called off my Mom and just tried to polish off my evening with the little sanity I had left.

I had just put So into bed (after another short lived, "why am I going if Ro is still up" tantrum) at about 7:20 when I got a huge pick me up. My parents showed up unexpected to check up on me and see that I was okay. This is not completely typical of my parents - so I immediately felt somewhat taken care of. Especially after I tried to call Hun to vent to him and he did not answer his friggin' crackberry. I could be in labor, on my kitchen floor and he would not even know...

My parents left at close to 8 pm, and Ro, although no vomit all day, still had fever of 101.8. I gave her the Tylenol and Motrin, and off to bed she went.

I tried to put Ate to bed at 8:30, but he was not having it - probably because he needs to make a business trip drop in his diaper, but has not. So he came back out and did not yield any goods, but went back into bed at 10:00, only to chat with himself until 11:00.

I can not sleep until all my kids are asleep, because... well....because I am a mother. So after 11 something I dragged my tired self to bed, but did not fall asleep until checking repeatedly on all my kids - ascertaining that they were all breathing and not vomiting and were no where near outlets...

I am seriously banning Hun from business trips, until "Murphy" decides to move onto someone else's house. And please G-d, I hope Hun does not return with any signs of sneezing, coughing, drippiness.

Here is to good health, and safe and well behaving children!!!

Amen!