It’s been a long time. But I am still alive. I think.
I spent the entire six days of mission trip being EFFICIENT and ENERGETIC. The house stayed clean. (Except for the floors…still dirty). The children were fed, and we only ate out twice. And I dropped into bed every night absolutely done in.
Being efficient and energetic takes a lot of…energy.
Monday afternoon Amelie came down with a fever. An hour and a half after giving her tylenol, it jumped up to 103. I called my Personal Triage Nurse who is on call 24/7 (THANKS MOM!!!) and got the temperature down to 101. I was trying to figure out how I was supposed to go to urgent care all by myself with two children in the middle of the night. Luckily I didn’t have to figure it out.
But that meant very little sleep between temperature checks and medication dosing and normal pee trips.
Tuesday we hung around coddling Amelie and her fever. Except for a brief trip to Costco to get potatoes for Thanksgiving.
It became clear that the source of the fever was probably a stomach bug. Let us just say that I could now write an amusing (and gross) epistle entitled “Adventures in Diarrhea – what happens when you feed your sick baby carrot juice”. With a chapter on the downfalls of strapping the diaper too loose AND too tight.
And then Devo came home and Lia’s reunion with her Pappie was so very sweet. “I missed you, Pappie.” Amelie still gets worried when Devo goes to church-she was convinced the entire time he was gone that “Pappie – eating – church.” Translation: Pappie is at the world’s longest meeting at the church.
Wednesday we went for our inaugural trip to Disneyland (thanks Mom!). It was the most dismal trip to the D place we’ve ever had…and it had nothing to do with the rain (which actually cheered us up). Lia was tired and nothing seemed to go right. But we did get to see “It’s a Small World” all decorated for Christmas, so all was not lost. And we have a whole year of trips ahead of us!
Thursday, Thanksgiving, I slept in until 8 (thank you Devo!). Got into the kitchen at nine, and by 3pm when we went to the Peckhams for TG dinner, I had made one pan of candied yams and one batch of potato rolls. And the rolls weren’t even baked yet. Yes, six hours on my feet with two items to show for it. Oh, plus the gingerbread men, who only needed to be rolled and cut and baked.
I melted. Melted like butter on hot mashed potatoes.
Dinner was nice, and Cheryl’s tofu lettuce wraps were absolutely incredibly delicious. I think I would have been happy to stop the dinner at the appetizers and just have lettuce wraps. They were really good.
I think we were asleep by 9.
Friday we got our Christmas tree and decorated it. Took a nap. And in the afternoon, went out to Torrance for Greg and Allison’s wedding rehearsal. The wedding is tomorrow and Devo is Best Man and Lia is Flower Girl. It was an incredibly efficient rehearsal and dinner…three hours for the whole kit ‘n’ caboodle. Unfortunately the church is almost an hour and half away, so it was pretty late when we got home.
But Devo let me sleep in again. On SABBATH. (Let us all stop to recognize the love.) And I’m so glad he did, because every time I woke up in the night, I had the overwhelming urge to cry. But I prudently decided that sleep would be a better option.
He bathed, dressed, and fed the children. I did their hair. And managed to shower and dress. Obviously I’ve run out of both energy and efficiency.
I dragged us to Sabbath School, and then we all played hooky from church and came home for a nap. Devo was going to go to church, but when I told him after Sabbath School, with a tremble in my voice and a quiver in my chin, that I was on the verge of falling apart, he changed his mind. Bless him.
After a three hour nap (no, not a three hour tour), I awoke and felt…pretty much the same as before all that sleep. I don’t know if the last week is catching up with me, if I’ve got a bit of Amelie’s bug, if I’m having major hormonal fluctuations, or all of the above.
Greg’s “Batcheler Party” (read: wii party with brothers) is currently going on in our living room. I contributed homemade cinnamon potato rolls. They sounded good. Now, after consuming three large rolls, they sound sweet.
Tomorrow is the wedding, and I hope and hope and hope that I’ll have enough get up and go to adequately care for Amelie whilst the other two do all their wedding stuff.
And that curling Lia’s hair, pinning up the curls, wrapping them in a handkerchief, and then instructing Lia not to rub her head on her car seat will produce beautiful curls after an hour an a half in the car.
Hope springs eternal!
Well, I’m off to bed.
OH, I’m 19 weeks this week, but last week, I was 18 weeks, and Baby was the size of a sweet potato. Now, wasn’t that fitting for Thanksgiving?