Typical Week

On Sunday night, my husband wasn't feeling well. He took a sick day on Monday and I got up early to take our daughter to school. I took his Jeep because it's nicer than my car. I was driving down the road and it just shut off. I was PISSED. This is the 3rd time this year that we've had this issue. We've had the car less than 2 years and it only has 38,000 miles on it. Every time they say it's something else and fix it and then it's good for a few months.

I got it to start and it sputtered back home. I took her to school in my car and then I had a million errands to run. I called the Jeep dealership and they said, "We don't have an appointment until September 11th."
"I'm not supposed to drive my car until September 11th?"
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
I couldn't handle it. "So, what's actually going to happen is that I'm dropping off my car this afternoon and you guys are going to fix it."
"We can't look at it today."
"Well, you will look at it tomorrow." I was being a huge bitch.

We dropped the car off that afternoon and I told my husband I'd take him to work/pick him up for a few days until they get us a loner.

In the meantime, the kids have been the kids. My youngest is doing online school and I'm helping her with that. They teach math so idiotically nowadays. My oldest is having her typical teenage melodramas.

On Tuesday, my oldest came home from marching band and complained of being achy. She had a long day, so I gave her some ibprofen told her to take a shower and go straight to bed.

I was awoken by her at 2 am. "Mama, I'm not feeling good," she told me. She was a little warm but nothing alarming. I was half asleep and I let her come into bed with us. She snuggled in-between me and my husband and I rubbed her back. After a half hour or so, she complained that she was shmushed and went back to bed.

My phone rang at 4:14 am. It was my daughter, "Mom, I feel really bad." I got out of bed and went into her room and she was literally burning alive. She had stripped down and was sweaty and delirious. I went downstairs to get the thermometer and could not find it anywhere. We lose thermometers constantly in this house.

My kids are always taking their temperature for no reason. Cramps? Take your temperature. Itchy nose? Take your temperature. There are probably a bunch of thermometers under their beds.

I gave her fever reducer and a glass of ice water and I sponged down her steaming body with a cool cloth. She tossed and turned and moaned. I felt terrible for her. She finally settled into sleep at 6 am.

No sleep for me because I had to get up and take my husband to work. I'd barely slept so I made myself a cup of coffee and left in my pajamas. After I dropped him off, I ran into Walgreens to grab a thermometer. I shuffled through the aisles in my pajamas, moccasins, hair a mess, no bra. That's me!

I got a thermometer and some cold Gatorades and went to the check out. The cashier was my little buddy that tells me EVERY TIME that I have the same name of a girl he went to high school with. He liked her, but she was kind of a bitch. I have to hear this story EVERY TIME. He's a little slow, sweet though. So I stood there with my hot mess self and listened to his story about the girl he went to high school with as he rung me up and I just nodded like I had never heard the story before.

I got home and took her temperature - 103. Yikes! She hasn't had a high fever like that in years. She was very achy and her throat hurt.

"I'm going to get dressed and I'll take you to the doctors and we'll go pick up some chicken noodle soup."

I was getting dressed and my phone pinged. It was a text from my daughter:
CAN YOU GET RAVIOLI AT THE STORE?
REGULAR RAVIOLI OR CHEF BOYARDEE? I replied.
I DON'T UNDERSTAND

I called her, "Do you want regular ravioli or Chef Boyardee?"
"What's Chef Boyardee?" she asked, pronouncing Boyardee with a french accent. "Is that fancy ravioli or something?"

I laughed so hard that I almost pissed my pant. "No, baby. It's not fancy ravioli."

There are certain things my kids have not been exposed to: Chef Boyardee, bologna, American Cheese, Spam, Hot Pockets, Vienna sausages, white bread.... I don't buy that stuff. I'm not trying to be a food snob or anything, I just don't like having diarrhea.

"Just regular ravioli then, or if they have spinach, than spinach." My kids are so weird. I take food requests every week before I go to the grocery store. This week my 11 year old said, "I want salami, sushi, soda, and tomato soup."
             

I took my daughter to Urgent Care where they diagnosed her with strep throat and prescribed antibiotics. Then we went to get chicken noodle soup-and "regular" ravioli.

She was very lethargic, I had to coax her to eat and drink. Last night her fever was still high. She called me in the middle of the night, and I laid with her. She burrowed herself into me. My pajamas were wet with her sweat. She hasn't wanted me to leave her side.

I wonder when she will stop wanting her mama when she is sick. I think it's kind of weird because I never wanted my parents ever when I was a kid. She'll be 40 years old and she'll still be calling me when she's sick.

So, one is sick, I'm helping the other with school, I'm driving my husband back and forth....and my husband calls today and says, "Yeah, so we need to get a whole brand new engine."
"What?"
"Yeah, I thought that was a little excessive too. Can you track down all the oil change records and bring them to the dealership?"

That was not what I wanted to do. We've had 7 oil changes since we've owned the car - I have the records for 5 of them and the other 2 were at an Meineke which shut down 2 months ago. It's been a big cluster. I'm still waiting to hear back from them....

Amazingly, I don't feel stressed out. I'm kind of like,

             

So, whatever. Welcome to my shit show.