What a weekend...

This is a long one, so you might want to grab a snack and a beverage. Hmmm, well, considering the content, perhaps just a beverage. And a comfy chair.

Miss G hasn't had a great weekend so far. Thursday night, I started my First Place weight loss group meetings again (so watch out for Mini-Me Fridays to start over!) and Chris had the kiddos at home. I didn't realize until I got home that I had actually left my cell phone in the car. It had slid under one of Mason's blankets in the front seat. I walked in the door and his first question was "Where is your phone?"

Uh-oh. That's never a good welcome home question.

"Ummmmm, probably in the car, I'm guessing."
"Well, you should think about actually HAVING it with you more often."
"Yeah, I'll look into that."
"Where is the vinegar?"

Uh-oh. That's not good either. That means something needs to come out of the carpet with my super-duper, fantastic diaper-assisted removal technique.

"Why? What happened?"
"Just where is it?"
"Why???? What do you need it for?"
"She pooped on me, okay? She pooped on me AND the carpet, and I want to get it out! I put both of us in the shower with our clothes on, if that tells you anything."

Ohhhhkay then. Poop. The Cabana Boy has some major poop-related issues, so this was not a good night for dear ol' Daddy in the "quality time with the kids" department. (If you've seen the youtube collage of men changing babies' diapers, they are his kindred spirits. The 2nd man reminds me of him during our Norovirus night earlier this year, and the 3rd guy reminds me of when he changed Mitchell's diapers with a painter's mask on for the first few weeks of his career in Fatherhood. No kidding.) Did I also mention that we *just* had our carpets professionally cleaned last month? Yep, sure did. Oh, and I mean what I say at the top of my blog, by the way. You've been fairly warned. Poop seems to come up a lot around here.

Anyway, I helped Chris expertly extract the yuckiness from the carpet and then we got everyone into bed. It occured to me that in order for the poop scenario to play out the way it did, something was up with our baby girl's digestive world. It also came to mind that my first MOPS meeting of the year was in the morning (of course!) and she would probably not be a good candidate for the childcare situation. I am on the steering team (Alana, since you asked - I do publicity) and really needed to be there to help with the registration process and providing some of the food. Things got even worse when she woke up screaming her head off at about 2 a.m. She has issues with the lights being on - like the ACTUAL light in her room, not a night light. (That is a completely different post in itself that I'll bless you with on another day.) This is what she was screaming about, but while I had her in the bathroom going potty and all of that 2 am fun, I noted that her nose was running, she was all kinds of crazy stuffed up and had a cough.

Basically, she was a complete mess.

Luckily, my father-in-law wasn't working the next day and when I called him in the morning, he willingly agreed to put his own health at risk by watching this little germ factory for us. I went to pick her up after MOPS and he reported that she was as goofy as ever and that she didn't act like she felt bad at all. He also handed me a bag that held some rinsed out pants in it, meaning that the poop situation was not yet resolved. (It was also majorly putting a kink in our Operation Potty Training effort. *sigh*) As I put her into her carseat on their driveway, I asked if she had gotten stung or bit by something. He said he didn't think so, but I was looking at this.



As you can see, she isn't all that bothered by the ginormous welts taking up half of her sweet little face, but I sure was. I am allergic to bee stings and swell up in welts like that when I get bit by spiders, so I was thinking that was probably the case. She helped her Papa pick tomatoes in the garden, so it was a completely plausible theory at the time. I gave her some benadryl before I fed her lunch and thankfully, they disappeared after about 20 minutes. I put her down and she took a great nap. No pictures this time, but when I put her on the potty, I noticed that the rash had done a magical reappearing trick as it was now only on her left thigh.

Hmmmm. There goes the bite/sting theory.

Have you ever noticed that kids tend to get this sort of thing ONLY when there is something great going on that you have been looking forward to? My husband and I had a fun date night planned -- we had tickets to the Montgomery Gentry/Toby Keith concert. Of course.

I think we might have the best parents in the entire world because much like my hubby's father, my parents completely threw caution to the wind and gladly welcomed our little hive-sporting, snot blowing, poop shooting two year old into their home with open arms. (I should mention this would also be their first time babysitting all three of them at the same time!) I agonized about leaving her while she was sick, but again - she was running around like her normal little self, minus being a little sleepy from the Benadryl. We ended up going to the concert and having a wonderful time...I'm really glad everyone convinced me to still go. Miss G did fine - the poop situation improved and my parents said she did great.

We all spent the night at my parents' house since we got back so late and their house was so close to the concert location. When my mom and I got Georgia up in the morning and put her on the potty, the hives were back and in full force. This time they were on her right cheek, all over her stomach, and up and down both legs. It was just so bizarre! Thankfully, she wasn't itchy or in pain, but it was really starting to worry me.

Yeah, about that looking forward to stuff thing? My friend, Erin, got a free parking pass and tickets to sit in a suite at the Women of Faith conference and would be picking me up in about an hour and was taking Mason with me. Mitchell would be going to the CSU football game to watch our cousin play. I told Chris he just had to call the pediatrician and take her in now. It turns out that she has an ear infection. I guess the tube in her left ear isn't working like it should and that it is all tied to and possibly originated from her two year molars coming in.

Poor sweet girl. She never once said anything about her ears, and we asked! In fact, we just went to the pediatrician not too long ago to get her ears checked and they were fine. It was Mitchell who had the ear infection.

I always feel badly when it ends up being an ear infection, it makes me feel like we should have known and gotten her in sooner or something. The thing is, in this case, her ear infection was camouflaged. We saw hives, a runny nose, poop issues, no pain, and an overall happy little girl. Not what typically happens when she gets an ear infection.

I started thinking about how many times I do that in my own life. One issue gets covered up with something else. Something completely seeming unrelated gets piled on and before you know it, like my sweet Miss G, I am a complete mess.

The other day is a great example. We ran late for school. The carpool kiddo I pick up was runing even later. Mitchell left his lunchbox in the car and I had to take it back to school. A cup of milk got spilled on the floor I had just swept and mopped. I went to the pharmacy to pick up my prescription to find out they still hadn't gotten the refill authorization from my doctor that was requested a week before. The kids wouldn't nap at the same time. Mason was nursing while Mitchell needed help in the restroom. Miss G woke up from her nap early. I made tacos for dinner and as I went to put a filled up shell onto a plate, I fumbled it and everything dropped on the floor. That I had now already swept and mopped twice.

Ever had a day like that? How do you even begin to untangle that mess and figure out exactly where you started feeling annoyed. Or weary. Or frustrated. When do you physically break down and start crying? (For me, it was the taco that put me over the edge.) By the time my husband got home, I was not in a good way. I was covered in spit up, my hair was in a ponytail and pulled halfway out in little loops from Miss G's makeover attempts with her Dora brush, a trail of taco meat covered my shirt and pants, and my eyes were rimmed from crying. I think he deserves a shout out for not turning on his heel and running a four-hour errand or something.

The thing is, not once during the day did I stop to ask for help. I called my husband to vent and I got a latte, but neither of those made my insides feel any better. The one thing I didn't do is the one thing I should have done, starting with running late for school. I didn't pray. I didn't ask God to help me. To strengthen me. To give me an extra dose of patience. To give me an extra measure of laughter. To give me some p-e-a-c-e.

Seriously, Tara. What a bonehead move. I know that if I ask, He will give it to me. Now, for my friends who are not on the same page with me on this one, I'm not saying "give me a million dollars" and poof - it's there. I'm saying that when I pray for peace and comfort, I get it. Does it mean I'm not worried about things anymore? No. It means that the peace and comfort offsets the worries and anxieties of my life and things are more tolerable and less intense.

Please, learn from my mistake. When you have "that" day, don't wait until you end up being a complete mess before you take a breath and look to Him for some help. There's a good chance your day will turn around, and even if it doesn't, you won't be as weary and beaten down at the end of the day. Diagnose the problem early, and call The Doctor.