Well it's been quite the few days. Brody man had continued with high fevers well into this morning. After our hospital visit, he came home and started wheezing which pretty much freaked me out so our Dr and I had a nice chat on the phone at 11pm. The wheezing stopped, but he was up every few hours with a fever. After his morning nap however, he seemed to have cooled off a bit. It was awful, the poor guy just cried and moaned and whined and just wanted to be held...and then not be held...and then be held. He hasn't eaten anything besides a few bites of Popsicle (hey, I'll take what I can get) and I've been pushing fluids down his little gullet as fast as I can. I felt very helpless and didn't know what else I could do besides drugging him up and giving him cool baths, ice chips and pedialyte. Whatever nasty virus it was, it looks like it's on it's way out. Hopefully it will miss the rest of us. I'm just worn out from taking care of a sick baby and a cranky two year old. Hopefully he's on the mend! Thanks for the calls and emails checking up on us!
Now I will talk about sweat and hair and showers. I know you probably could care less how hairy my legs are but I feel the need to indulge in details today for some odd reason. Quite frankly can't remember when I showered last....or ate a full meal for that matter. Wait, what day is it? I scared the garbage man this morning when I came walking out with p.j's and freakishly freaky freak hair (in case you're wondering what that is...it's freaky, think Edward Scissorhands) I'm looking forward to a shower and some nice shaving (I even invested in a fancy Women's razor...never done that before, I always use Lonnie's) I think my freakishly white legs are worth a good shave though. I really want to wear shorts tonight (it's band night woo hoo!) but I am dealthy afraid of scaring the living daylights out of the band with my legs. Someone told me the other day that I had, "indoor face." Ummmm, gee thanks. I'll translate for you. That means that you're so white it looks like you've seen a ghost and you need to get in the sun...STAT. Dude, I have INDOOR BODY. I spent far too long frying my face under tanning beds and being a lifeguard that I've got some major sun damage already, I don't want to continue down the path to wrinkledom anytime soon.
So I was reading a blog the other day and she was talking about how she hated being labeled a mommy blog because mommy blogs talk about mommy things and so on and so forth. It made me proud to be labeled a mommy blog. Why yes, I do blog about my children's poo, what shot out of their noses and how much sleep they didn't give me on a particular day. Even though a lot of you probably don't really care how many stale cheerios were stuck to my feet this morning when I waltzed through the kitchen (three) or where Baylor decided to go pee last night (on my tomato plants) or even how hairy my legs are (getting close to Sasquatch) I'm glad you keep reading and I'm a proud mommy blogger. Maybe you can learn a thing or two because most of the time I don't know what I'm doing either! Here's to flying by the seat of our pants mothering.