Tuesday, November 30, 2010

A very bad day ends well

Today was one of those days. Yup, you've had 'em. The kind of day where you want to run away screaming. Or drink. A lot.

After the morning rush (which actually went pretty well today) I plopped the youngest two down in front of Caillou, and ran upstairs to get dressed. BAW was in the shower. After about 5 minutes it dawned on me that I didn't hear any noise downstairs. When it's too quiet with Little Red on the loose, I don't think, I just panic.

Me: "R! What are you watching?"

R: "Nothing."

Me: "Where's N????"

R: "Outside. Heading down the steps."

FIVE MINUTES they were downstairs folks, maybe less. We live on a VERY busy street, the main one going into our neighborhood from the highway. As I said, I was upstairs getting dressed, which without getting into too much details insinuates various states of undress. I grabbed a bandanna, but had no time for shoes as I flew down the steps. I swooped down on him (in only a diaper of course) just in time. I won't even mention the group of work men with their dirty looks at the undressed woman who can't keep an eye on her own baby.

And that's how this wonderful day started. He came upstairs and sat on my bed with me while I had a near heart attack. It took 10 minutes for my heart to stop pounding and my breathing to be normal again.

When I could breathe again, we got dressed and headed out to the park.  Once there,  N always goes on his merry way, climbing to the highest room in the tallest tower. And instead of saving the princess, he dances around just out of my reach, dangling his feet over the edge, swinging off a one story high drop, yelling, "Imma! Look!", until again, I get the eyeball rolls of "What is wrong with this mother? Why doesn't she control her kid?"

When he does finally emerge from the slide he always, always comes right over and pokes me with one finger while saying "EEP". He is not autistic (at least not that I've decided yet), he is merely giving me a shock from the static of the slide. Every. Single. Time.

Then came The Incident with the Disgusting Cat at the Park. In a desperate attempt to seem "normal" (and not mildly child abusive) I try to make small talk with the other mothers in the park. For them, it's easy. Their cute babies play at their feet while drinking bottles, or munching crackers. Mine looks more like this:

But without the safety pulley and rope, mind you.

After talking to another mother for I dunno, 23 seconds, I neurotically look over at N, and behold, he is sitting on the ground with a HUGE stray male FILTHY cat draped all over him!! Now, ya'll know me: I like animals. I actually LOVE animals. But first of all, I hate cats. And there are few things I hate more than dirty Israeli cats, so imagine my delight when I find this:

After ten minutes of the cat laying on him, him laying on the cat, him trying to be a cat, I dragged him home and washed him up, really good. Then came my favorite time of day: NAP TIME!!

Except, nap time is only fun when you can find the passy and the child actually naps. It is NOT fun when, say, the passy is lost, the child climbs in and out of the crib, and the mother suddenly out of the blue has an inexplicable backache unlike any she has ever experienced. It was such intense pain, and so out of the blue, I can only attribute it either to stress or, running through the streets at 7:45am hardly dressed, and grabbing up a 25 lb toddler and hauling him all the way back up two flights of stairs. Hmmmm... we may never know the real cause.

So, there we were, him not napping, me not being able to move. Let me tell you, it was not pretty. He always starts off by "washing the dishes." Translated to: spilling water over any and all surfaces in the kitchen including (but not limited to) counters, bread on counters, stove top, igniter flames, and floor. Then, he gets down off his step ladder, and slips on the floor and cries. This is just what happens. We have it down to a science by now.

And then comes The Phone Call. Dummy that I am, I actually answer it. "Hi, this is the secretary of AY boys' school. Please hold for the principal." Oh Shoot.

"Hi Mrs. W. Is it possible that your first grader "S" is allergic to rabbits?"
"Um, yes. I guess so." Scintillating conversationalist that I am in Hebrew.
"Well, he isn't breathing very well. It could be something. It could be nothing. But we do have rabbits visiting for today. Also, his face is swelling. Kind of quickly. Maybe you should come pick him up."

BAW was there in about 3 minutes flat. While I lay on my back, also flat. And yes, it looks like he does have a pretty severe rabbit allergy. After a quick stop to the pediatrician who assured us he'll be just fine, we now have an appointment with a pediatric allergist for some more extensive allergy testing.

Since it's Tuesday, and my favorite day of the week, school was out early, so everyone walked in at just about the same time. Thankfully, BAW had managed to score some more passys in the midst of all the chaos. Don't worry! I was helpful too! Someone has to hold a place on the couch.

At this point, I was in so much pain, I was crying, and had no way to get any relief. That's when the kids got home, needing lunch. Oh, and I forgot. J had 2 friends come over straight from school, and B had one.

That put N's nap off forever as the girls needed the room. The rest of the afternoon was uneventful, and there's not much to report, except a trashed house, busy kids and a very bad backache. I did get a hot bath, but it helped almost not at all.

Hungry kids, broken mother, working father, R's Chanuka party at 5pm, big party here tomorrow with family = Crying mother.

Then came a strange turn around. Just yesterday I was asked to say daily perakim (chapters) of Tehilim for a very sick infant in the neighborhood. Since I was sitting around anyway, and it was getting close to shkiya, I sat and was able to have some real kavana. I davened that the girl should merit a refuah shlaima along with all the other cholim of Am Yisrael. It took me no more than ten minutes to say, and an amazing thing happened. My back ache was almost gone!!! 

I believe! (Please say this with a heavy Southern preacher's accent.)

And just in time for me to jump up and get R dressed for his party (5pm? No other kids from the family invited? Are you kidding me?), and run right over there. It was nice to be just me and him and we really had a great time at a beautiful party! On the way home, I noticed, no back ache! Really! It was truly amazing!

An even better end to The Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day was that a friend who is visiting from the US left me a message while I was out and is going to stop by in a bit and say hello. Oh, and I even got my dough for chanuka cookies up and in the fridge.

Our time is too short, and this post is too long, but one final thought. What's amazing to me is the ups and downs we can have in a day. I am going to remind myself that no matter how bad the "downs" the "ups" always follow.

Even in Australia.


SaraK said...

Honey, I truly do not know how you manage to make everything so humorous. Been there, done that with the back pain, although I needed Vicodin and PT for relief. Glad you are feeling better.
Chanukah Sameach!

Wendy said...

Yup, when I grow up, I want to be Kara. Backache, Little Red and all.