2011 has been off to one heck of a start. The radio DJs I listen to on the way in have suggested that their listeners pick a single word, rather than a resolution, to define their year. As much as I've wanted to, I've hesitated to do so based on how the first 10 days of this year have turned out. Hopefully, they are no indication of how the remainder of this year...or this decade...are going to go.
We rang in the New Year with friends and woke to a day of football and a lunch spread that knocked us all into a food coma. Even Pumpkin took a long nap on New Year's Day that was a treat mom and dad could not have ever even hoped for. Things seemed wonderful, peaceful, hopeful...in other words, too good to be true.
That night, Pumpkin didn't sleep so well; the next night, even worse.
I was exhausted already and trying to prepare for the year's first jury trial set to begin on Tuesday January 4th. On Monday the 3rd, I kept her home from school and reported immediately to the doctor with complaints of fever, not sleeping or eating, and general grumpiness (Pumpkin's, not mine...at least not yet). The good doc checked her out and used the word that I once beamed to hear..."Perfect." WHAT?!?! I mean, I know she is perfect, but she is NOT perfect. But oh yes, the doctor looked me in the face and had the audacity to tell me that my perfect little baby was perfect. I had to fight back tears. Dammit, why was this man telling me my baby was perfect? I felt like maybe I was crazy...maybe my mother's intuition was in need of some serious calibration.
We return home and I swap baby duty with daddy so I can get ready for trial the next day. She still isn't sleeping, eating, or playing like her old self but we ship her off to school Tuesday and I report to Court. I get home late from a long day at work and Pumpkin is already half asleep. I'm beat and planning a long night of preparing for my expert examination at 8:30 on Wednesday morning. I kiss her good night thinking that I must have, in fact, been crazy and that she was, in fact, just perfect.
Before I nestle into bed with my binders and legal pads for some serious cramming, I go outside to let the dogs in from their evening bathroom break. I call for them and the chihuahua comes dashing by me and leaps into his bed and under the covers. The miniature schnauzer never comes. I walk into the darkness and reach for his lead, which he has been kept on for the past 6 months since he has discovered he can fit under the fence. I feel dead weight and my heart drops as I realize the chain leads directly into the pool. I run to the side of the pool to find the only thing above water is his little snout (luckily (?) although the lead was too close to the pool it was too short to allow him to go all the way under water - leaving just his little snout above the water line). He was literally hanging by a thread. He had long-since given up kicking. I drag his lifeless body out of the water and start screaming in the darkness in the backyard as I am running his limp body into the house, dripping with scummy (cold) pool water. After a frantic after-hours call to our vet, a blow dryer, an electric blanket, a baby bottle of drinking water, and several hours, the hypothermia and shock finally wore off and I was finally ready to get some work done.
It was no sooner that I finished the night's work and closed my eyes that I heard the first faint "rahr" from Pumpkin's room. No, no, it must be a dream. She isn't waking up. I have to be in court in less than six hours and haven't gotten any sleep. Unfortunately, it was no dream. Poor Pumpkin was screaming in pain within minutes, so tired she hardly opened her eyes but so miserable she couldn't sleep or quit crying. Aaron tried to take her and calm her, but failing mother's intuition or not, I could not sleep while my Pumpkin was in such misery...particularly because I didn't know what to do to treat her "perfection."
With about two solid hours of sleep, I reported for Court while trying to keep abreast of Aaron's dealings with the Children's Clinic. We saw a different doctor, who found the ear infection, gave her an antibiotic shot AND a prescription, as well as ear drops, and set her up for an ENT consult. At last, an answer. At least that was a start. So back to school she goes. That night wasn't much better, but at least I knew there was a real cause for her discomfort AND that I was not a total nutcase.
The next day, back to Court for me and back to school for Pumpkin. That is for about 15 minutes before Aaron got a phone call that she had diarrhea through all three of her spare outfits and needed new clothes. Normally, they keep them home at three in one day but they were trying to do us a favor, knowing I was in Court and Aaron had meetings for his new job all day. On his way to bring half of her closet to daycare, Aaron's truck dies. While he waits for a tow truck, the daycare graciously washes her little outfits. Aaron finally gets where he needs to be, truck gets to the shop, Aly gets clothes, and I'm in Court. All seems well...
Then the daycare calls to tell us that Aly has a rash breaking out all over her body. Back to the Children's Clinic...except I'm in Court and Aaron has no truck. We finally figure it out and discover that on top of her ear infection she also has some sort of virus that may have been to blame for the ear infection. With the diarrhea and rash, next came projectile vomiting.
Finally my trial ended and I spent the day Friday with my sleepy, vomity, rashy, poopy but somehow still perfect little baby. I was so looking forward to a restful weekend at home with my little fam and some football.
Saturday morning I woke up out of sorts. By 5:00 PM I was in a 12-hour toilet hug position, moving only to allow Aaron to take his turn bowing to the porcelin god. We sent Pumpkin over to my parents while we suffered through what was either a bug or food poisoning. The next day, feeling as though I had been mowed down by a runaway train, I pick Pumpkin up just in time for both of my parents to get the bug. Apparently our perfect Pumpkin is also a perfect petrie dish :)
I'm entering this second week of 2011 with bated breath, but I know that whatever it brings we have lots of love and one day we will have lots of laughs about these first 10 days. We are also sending love and prayers out to Grandma Brown and praying for a quick and speedy recovery for her. 2011 will get better for us all, as evidenced by the picture of Pumpkin and Baylor which was taken on the Friday after hell-week - both of them all smiles despite their respective rough weeks! Love you guys!
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