And when I say hangover, its not related to alcohol. I’m hungover from the holidays. That magical mash-up of multiple parties, late nights, missed naps, insane cookie trays, crying children, shreds of paper that seem to get everywhere, that is promptly followed by … COLDS.
Well, one for sure. Sean is sick, poor wee man. Allie’s working on 3 molars right now. Her poor gums are swollen and bright red and her nose is stuffed up. Sean’s nose is stuffed up too — to the point that he’s calling Hubbs something between “Doggy”, “Daddy”, and “Donkey.” We’re not sure which.
OH! And now Hubbs — who is home with the kids all week — is getting sick.
Add some personal issues and 2 car mishaps in on Christmas Eve, and well … I was just hoping we’d survive.
Twas the night before Christmas, and from the garage
We were trying to load up for a festive homage.
Our car was packed up, we had taken great care
For oodles of gifts we had gotten to share.
When he stepped on the gas pedal, too quickly (in haste)
Into the garage door he did crunch our tailgate.
Well, the car seems to be fine. Just a bit scratched. The garage door, on the other hand, was dented, pushed off the track, and disengaged from the electric motor. (We also found out from the garage-door repair guy that a spring broke, which was why we couldn’t fix it.)
So there we were on Christmas Eve, garage door halfway open, completely askew, and us late for a party. It took me about 30 minutes in the bitter cold, but I was able to at least shut it. We left it that way, being that: 1. there was no hope of even getting someone out to look at it until Monday at the earliest, and 2. Only the Hulk could have lifted that door to get into the garage.
Party, Party, Party!
The two parties we went to were fun. They always are. And I enjoy going. But its harder now that I have kids. On Christmas Day, dinner wasn’t ready until 8:30 — a good 1.5 hours past Allie’s bed time. I kept her going until dinner by giving her bread and cookies, and once I put dinner in front of her, she horked down 2 kebabs of fruit, a quarter-sized piece of salmon, 10 pieces (maybe 1/2 oz) of prime rib, and a quarter-sized serving of mashed potatoes. She spit the green beans out and we discovered that she loves jell-o.
Sean, on the other hand, ate 1 fruit kebab, a piece of bread that I had brought from home, and a piece of string cheese, also from home. (Translation: He would eat more the next day.) He also had several tantrums, didn’t knew what he wanted, and started crying when a quasi-relative smiled and said “hi” to him. (Can you hear me sighing?)
I spent a good 20 minutes in the steam with Sean Wednesday night/morning at 1:30 a.m., trying to help him breathe easier and slathered his little chest in baby Vicks and cranked the humidifier on high.
And then he wouldn’t let go of my neck. Hubbs offered to sleep with him and was told “yeah” only to have that followed up with hysterical shrieking and a cacophony of “no”.
Sick toddlers have no idea what they want.
So I asked if he wanted me to sleep with him. He said “yeah” again, and let go of my neck, moved his pillow to one side of the bed, and laid down. As I kissed Hubbs goodnight, a little voice called “Mommy?!”
So I laid down with him, and the little guy curled up against me and pulled my arm across his body and snuggled in. It took me awhile to fall asleep, listening to his shallow, struggled breathing, willing him to just breathe through his mouth. Then he’d cough, wake up, move to another side, and fall back asleep.
All. Night. Long.
When he’s healthy, Sean sleeps like a brick. Once he’s asleep, he barely moves. When he’s sick, he’s like a fish out of water. He coughs, gasps for air, flops around, gets comfortable again, and goes back to sleep.
At 2 a.m., he fell asleep on my arm. By 2:30, he had his legs propped up on my stomach. Then farted on me. At 2:45, his head replaced his legs. At 3 a.m. I took a foot to the jaw as he flopped around again. I’m pretty sure I caught an elbow in to my throat at one point too, but I was too tired to care.
This Is Your Brain On Chocolate Milk
He crashed hard about 10 minutes later.
My House Looks Like A Hoarders Episode
What happens when you put a birthday and Christmas in the same month? A crazy amount of toys. Add Christmas decorations to the fray, and the house looks like a mild version of Hoarders. Except instead of junk, we have toys. Lots and lots of toys.
Hubbs donated 3 bins to Goodwill yesterday, which frightens me, because I don’t see a difference in the house. Its just like before Allie’s birthday party, when I took 2 garbage bags of toys into the garage to clear more space, then looked around and went “I think I need to do about 10 more bags.”
I started eyeballing the tree last night. Pretty sure that sucker’s coming down in the next couple of days. It’s taking up valuable toy space.
All the above being said, I need to mention a few things:
I am so thankful for my immediate and extended family. My brother watched the kids last week and rocked their world. My parents swooped in on Christmas and the kids saw stars. My extended family wrapped all of us in cheer, peace, and love. And for that I am incredibly thankful.
I’m thankful for my kids, because they bring me and Hubbs such joy and amusement and love. They make us see the world through their eyes and it instantly makes me feel a little better about that world.
And I’m thankful for the Hubbs. For supporting me 150% at all times. And for telling me what’s what. Even if I don’t always want to hear it. I love you.