I got home this afternoon after spending the weekend at the ocean with my bookclub gals. We rented a house that’s located right on the beach and man did we have a view! The house was beautiful and the experience was amazing. Wehad acomfy house with enough bedsfor everyone. There was a cozy fireplace andmore liquorthan people. All that equates to agood time in my book.
I can’t leave out the weather. I have visited the ocean more times than I can count and have NEVER witnessed the kind of weather that we were dealt over the past couple of days. We had torrentialrain. We had hail. We had beautiful, glorious sun. We had thunder. We had lightning. We hadwinds.Weeven had a tornado!
All in all, we had an amazing time shopping and gossiping, drinking and marveling at the splendor of the sea.
And then I got home.
I literally waltzed out of a dream andwas plunged headfirstinto chaos. My daughter Avery, her cousin Sophie and their friend were vandalizing my front room with Bratz dolls, their faces painted with dollar store makeup and perfume so heavy it hung in the air like cigarette smoke in a bar.Jack was standing at the keyboard, toe-tapping tohis favorite song “Girl from Ipanema” blaring out of the speakers with the swagger of a nightclub singer.
Myimmediate headache prompted me to enforce myGod-given role as the mean mom and send the kids that state law does not require me to care for home with the hope that I could settle in for some peace and quiet with my family. Until Jackson started coughing. Gut-wrenchingly. You know how kids have this amazing ability to move from “completely fine” to “seriously sick” in a matter of seconds? Yup. After a quick call to theon-call doctor it was off to Urgent Care we went to imbibe in our annual dose of a local citizenry “reality check”.
After a surprisingly short wait we were ushered into an office, Jack received a quick check-up anda nebulizer treatment was ordered. Oh. My. God. I sat in that chair and wrestled my child like a country boy wrestling a greased pig. Jack squiggled and squealed and screamed and cried. Jer held the mouthpiece in front of Jack’s tightly closed lips while I anchored his head in my hands, sweat pooling in my armpits awaiting its destiny to dampen my grey t-shirt. Lovely.
Not much later we were sent on our way with a”watch him closely” diagnosis and a prescription in hand. To help ease his coughing fits I just spent the last 20 minutes in our handcrafted version of a sweat lodge (i.e. shower stall) with frizz-prone hair which has now just gone to hell. I’m anticipating a midnight car ride with the windows downin my not-so-distant future.
You ever have one of those days?Gheesh.
Love to all, in health, Mindy