Is this week done?

Have you ever started out the week where you had everything organized and ready for things to go smoothly? That was how my week started. B still can't play hockey due to his concussion, and M was done hockey at 3 on Saturday. After hockey I meal planned and went and got groceries and did the weekly lunch prep. I had everything planned that I needed for work this week. I had nothing to do Sunday. It would finally be the day of rest that it was intended to be.

Sunday morning the boys went out to play while the hublet was doing some 'man stuff' outside. I had peace to drink my coffee and catch up on Coronation Street. Bliss. Sunday afternoon the boys were playing and getting along (playing AND getting along. Red flag!) I thought I would lay down for a little nap. Ahhhhh-mazzzzzzing! I loved this Sunday! 

Then it happened.

B came running into my room telling me M was puking. I bolted out of bed and ran into the living room to find him on the couch with his face in my biggest Tupperware bowl (thank god for the sanitize cycle on the dishwasher!)  Luckily hublet was right with him. He spent the rest of the afternoon on and off facing the bowl.

Monday he stayed home from school. Luckily/unluckily my nephew came out with the same bug so he was able to go to my sisters while I went to work for the morning.

Tuesday everyone was healthy and at work and school. After I was done work I did some school work and caught up on some stuff around the house. I got the boys from the bus they told me about their days on the walk home. It was a beautiful day so I suggested they play outside. Not even 10 minutes later I hear crying. I go out M is losing it and B is crying telling me that M is bleeding. I go out into the snow, barefoot to get him. I get him in the house and look...Ya he totally needs stitches! Luckily my neighbor across the road works at the doctors office in my town and told us to go over there, and had called to tell them what happened and that we were on our way over.

Three stitches later we were on our way home. I'm not going to lie, it was a tramatic experience all around. Even the nurse who helped me hold him down cried after we left. But all things considered he was back to himself after the shock wore off.

Wednesday hublet had a convention for work. So we were all getting ready at the same time. Which is very rare and kind of throws everyone off. When B woke up he said his stomach hurt. Damn! I called my sister and he was able to go there. Literally 5 minutes before we were to be walking out the door, he gave me the look and told me he was going to do it. Let her rip little man, there's no sense holding that stuff in! That day was pretty rough for him. And just when I thought he was over, it started again at bedtime! And to add insult to injury....hublet was now sick!

So today, Thursday, B and hublet stayed home. B apparently was okay and he thinks he should have went to school. But better safe then sorry when it comes to issues of the tummy.

I'm almost afraid to see what tomorrow will bring. It's my day off so that pretty much guarantees that I will indeed be sick. Can't wait!

Hoarder of messages

After reading the title you have to admit, there are worse things to hoard. There's just something about pushing that delete button that makes my chest tighten and makes me question my judgement. What if I end up needing something from that message? What if it ends up being more important then I originally thought? I have 1 message that I will not delete, ever - period end of. It's one from my grandma. She's almost 92 and still with us, and truth be told, she'll probably outlive us all! But I'm not sure if I'll ever get another message from my grandma which means I won't have a recording of her voice.

But for real, do I need 21 messages? Probably not. Am I going to delete them? No! Maybe I'll see how far I can stretch my phones abilities.shee how many messages it will allow us to store.

Concussed!

Pardon me if this is brief, I'm shining my mother of the year trophy as I type this!

So 3 nights a week B, the oldest, goes to an after school program. It's sport and nutrition based. He's very athletic, so it's a perfect fir for him. Wednesday night I dropped him off, came home and continued my binge of how to make a murderer. About 20 minutes later my cell phone rings. It's in the kitchen, so I rush to get there all the time trying to think of who's calling me on my cell and not at home? My heart sunk as soon as I saw that it was the program coordinator. This is his third year attending, I've never received a phone call. I'm sure the panic showed in my voice when I answered. She immediately assured me that everything was okay, but.... (ya there's always a but that tells you everything's not fine) B had been hit in the head with a hockey stick fairly hard. He had a good sized goose egg but he wanted to stay. She told me that he was keeping ice on it for 20 minutes and then she would reassess the situation and get back to me. 20 minutes later she texted me that the swelling had gone down enough and he seemed fine that he would be okay to stay. Fine and well.

So Thursday morning I make a note in his school planner explaining the situation and jotted down my work number in case anything should come up. The phone didn't ring all morning, everything must be okay. So I went on my lunch visited with some coworkers about a few ikea purchases I had made and my plan for them when the phone rang. It was his teacher. After recess he started to feel unwell. I, being an awesome mom kind of played it off like he was wanting to come home. And in all honesty, the kid complains of an upset belly probably 5 times a week...or more! He sleeps with a bowl because he's not convinced that he isn't going to throw up. I explained all that to her. She agreed that he was fine to stay at school,  and said they would keep a closer eye on him. We said our goodbyes and I go back to my lunch.

Not even 10 minutes later she was calling back. When she got back down to the classroom she went to talk to him and he was now feeling dizzy. She thought he better get checked out just to be sure he was okay. I told her I would pack up at work and head out to get him. So I get to the school talk with the principal about the situation, she's with me not too concerned, but better to get it checked out then to let it go.

Let me start by saying that I don't have a Dr or a hospital in my town. Ya, it's that small! So I drove to my Dr's office thinking they could give him a quick once over and we would be on our way home for a nap. HA! The Dr's office was closed! So off to the closest emergency room 40 minutes away!

We waited in the waiting room for 2+ hours, then waited almost another 2 hours to see a Dr. When the Dr finally made his way in he was very friendly joked around with B, and really treated him like he was an adult. Which is huge for an 8 year old boy. The Dr was able to confirm that we were indeed looking at a concussion. Concussion treatment has come a long way since I was a kid in the 90s!

First off today we was on complete cognitive rest or brain rest. That means no tv, no devices (which we don't allow for kids in this house anyways) no reading, no music, nothing to stimulate brain activity. It's been a long day. He's no bored. I agreed that he could play some dominos for about 20 minutes this morning and again this afternoon. Just to keep him busy in some way. Tomorrow were allowed to slowly return to normal activities. This means he can play for 20 minutes and then rest his brain for 60. Or watch 20 minutes of tv, then rest for 60. If he starts to show symptoms, we go back to fully brain rest.

Also, because he's athletic and plays in organized sports, he has to go to a return to sport program in London (about 50 minutes away) at a sport medicine clinic.

Monday I will take him to school and have a meeting with the principal so we can make an individualized return to learn plan for him based on his current state of recovery.

It will be interesting to see what the coming weeks bring for B as well as the rest of us.

How are you spending your free time?

While I should be doing school work, and some odds and ends for work, or if you ask my family....folding laundry ;) I'm spending all my free time watching 'Making a Murderer' on Netflix. Procrastinating...maybe....worth it...you bet! I'm so torn as to if Steven is actually guilty. At the end of the day, I believe he was. But I do also believe there was a great mishandling of evidence. I don't think his nephew was involved. I think he was an unintelligent, scared kid who had no idea the multitude that he was admitting to. As he said, will I be out of here by 1:29? I have a project due in the 6th hour. He wasn't thinking about what he was admitting, he was telling them what they wanted to hear so he could get out of there and back to school in time to hand in his project.

I'm really interested to see where they take this series. And I say a series as they say season 1, which of course leads us to believe there will be a season 2. How often does this kind of stuff really happen? I think more often then not.

Why is so hard?

The struggle is real my friends. You think you have a decent picture of both your kids together and as soon as you push the shutter button, someone does something.

This has been a struggle for me since our first Christmas with 2 kids. Really...how hard could it be? Oh how naive I was then. I booked the boys into a local photo studio, bought them matchy matchy outfits, scheduled around the baby's feeding and napping schedule, fresh hair cut for the oldest, what could possibly go wrong? Gaaahhhh we were an hour and we got 1 single picture. I was sweating and possibly on the verge of tears. It was like an epic pinterest fail.

This tradition has carried with us always. Even candid pictures. This weekend we took the boys to a hockey game. I wanted 1 picture to document this. After multiple attempts, these are the best 2. My youngest is mad 8n both pictures. Why you might ask? Who knows. These moods strike him as he sees fit. And our oldest is trying to sneak away, and then pretending to be hurt.

Is this like the unspoken sibling law? Thou must not allow mom one nice picture?