On Friday my sister came home to visit and to attend the memorial for our grandmother who recently passed away. I wanted to go see her at my parents’ house so she could see the kids and I could see her amazingly, wonderful dog. I planned to give her time to sleep in, and head over there for lunch. I figured it would also give me time to do a little of my homework that was due that night and throw in a load of laundry, including the high chair cover that is always the filthiest item in our house.
Everything is going to plan, all is well, I take the kids upstairs to get dressed and I realize the washing machine isn’t running and I didn’t hear it buzz. Sure enough it’s dead and filled with gray water and our clothes. I spent the next 20 minutes wringing everything out and throwing it in the dryer. During the process Mr. Man, the little Hulk that he is, managed to rip the gate off of the kitchen doorway and drop it on his face. Typical.
Assessed Mr. Man’s red face, got the dryer going, called a repairperson, who I wouldn’t be able to fit into our schedule until Monday, and started lunch since we obviously weren’t going to make it to my parents house. We decided to meet up with them later at the mall since we all needed last minute memorial clothes. Almost done making lunch and Mr. Man slams his head into the refrigerator.
The rest of the day was busy, but uneventful with the exception of Mr. Man spitting up while I put him in his car seat and blowing a raspberry that shot vomit all over my face. I just laughed, it was so fitting for the day we were having.
The following day was the memorial, which was a really great day. The only thing that went wrong was a sippy cup malfunction when Mr. Man threw his cup of coconut milk to the ground in the funeral home where it exploded all over a family friend’s pants. And then we had to go buy a carton of coconut milk on the way to lunch since it’s not something restaurants have. High-maintenance kiddo.
Sunday we miraculously made it through unscathed, albeit buried in dirty laundry. And then came Monday. Little Miss woke up with a stomachache. She has never in her life complained of a stomachache. However, she still wanted to go to swimming lessons. All the way until I put her shoes on she wanted to go, and then she started crying and said, “I think we should stay home.”
Sure enough a low fever followed and she ended up listless on the couch. I called the doctor and made an appointment… at the same time someone was supposed to come and see the washing machine. Rescheduled that to today.
The doctor didn’t think there was anything majorly wrong with her, but of course Google had made me a panic about appendicitis so I was still nervous. Oh! And Mr. Man had acquired a one-day fever last week when I brought him for his vaccines so, surprise! He got some shots during Little Miss’s visit. Hooray for two screaming kids!
We went to my parents’ house where we panicked about Little Miss and talked to the doctor on the phone two more times. She took a nap, ate one chicken nugget and we went home.
When we got home she was a mess again, crying, fever, didn’t want to take the Tylenol. I was imagining having to go to the ER and I was afraid to have her sleep in her room. So we all got pajamas on, and went downstairs to the couch. Little Miss was at one end and I was holding Mr. Man at the other. With in about five minutes, they were both out cold. I texted my mom to let her know and then Little Miss woke up crying… and threw up everywhere, which woke up Mr. Man, who started screaming, and continued to scream while I cleaned everything up.
Thankfully Little Miss felt better, but I had a new problem, a heap of clothes a blanket and a towel, all covered in vomit and still no washing machine. I just dumped it on the kitchen floor and got everyone back on the couch where they passed back out in seconds.
So this brings us to today. The washing machine guy should be here any minute. The vomit items are still on the kitchen floor. Little Miss is feeling better, but still has a fever so she’s staying on the couch. And Mr. Man has helped matters by dumping out every bin of toys all over the family room.
The way I see it, step one is getting the washing machine fixed and getting the puke covered stuff in there. After that, I’m hoping everything will follow suit and we can get back on track!