I truly hope, this will be the last of the spring time excitement. I have yet to check, but I think we are probably close to having exhausted our flex account.
Monday morning started with a quick shower, history lesson about Justinian 1 and Theodora. I knew it would be the only lesson I would get done for the day.
Flutter Nutter in his PJs is out the door promptly at 8 am.
Time for ear tubes.
All went well, till the recovery.
I did not expect 30 minutes of crying.
and drama...remember the ER.
DRamA.
Flutter Nutter is king of drama.
Nurse would walk into the recovery area and wailing and sobbing when resume.
Thermometers were as scary as a horror film.
I was compassionate. I was kind. But completely not prepared emotionally for how emotional he was. I mean, I had ear tubes. I remember being a little freaked out by bloody cotton balls laying by my head and the fact I was in bed with a sheet over me and my gown and undies were missing. But then again, that was 30 years ago. I don't remember crying.
I asked him what he wanted to eat.
FN: "I can't eat today!" more sobbing.
Misunderstanding, fasting only until surgery was over.
In that case. McDonald's.
Can do.
Then he remembers the lollipops.
The nurse comes into the room.
FN: "I think that was worth 2"
She looks at me.
I laugh. He thinks what he has been through is worth 2 lollipops. She smiles.
And returns with another lollipop.
So I take him to McDonald's and like any good mother, I remember the Gymboree email I received this morning.
Gymboree is 2 miles away.
I coax him into letting me shop. $2.99 sale! TV, chairs, lounge and rest. Drink your root beer.
YES! He agreed. Turned out to be a good thing. An hour later, he was feeling much better and ready to see his siblings.
I scored some awesome deals.
Casting in the afternoon. More appointments scheduled for the ENT and follow up for the broken arm.
Wiggles, and wiggles and wiggles.
FN: "I am not allowed to hit you guys with my cast!"
That's right. Rule number 1 from the doctor.
Daddy's Buddy is quick to say he would have chosen the neon green. Without thinking, I said, "Well, break your arm and you can have whatever color you want."
Hmmm, running out of humor and patience and little fried.
Doctor was quick to say, "Shhh, don't say that. That one would likely take you up on it!"
CHOKE, GAG, he's right, what was I thinking?
By now, my boys look like they have beaten each other up. But it is all self~inflicted.
Do they slow down? No.
Do they care their mother's nerves are shot? No
Then.... yes, there is a then....
Almost bedtime and FN has a gushing bloody nose. Noticed by Little Princess.
Caused by picking his nose, of course.
Blood everywhere. We are trying to clean him up.
He sobs, dramatically, of course,
"It's just be mean to Flutter Nutter Day!"
and I am sure it very well felt like that. Tubes, fasting, casting, nose bleeds, blankies being washed...
Tomorrow had better be "Pamper the Mom day, cause she needs a vacation!"
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