Wow. It has been a busy week. But I think I can finally stop holding by breath. Things are starting to slow down from a sprint to a jog, and life is getting back on track.
Here's where the marathon began:
My brother got married last weekend (June 20th). It was a gorgeous weekend. We all had a great time and welcome his wife (that word is still a little hard to swallow -my baby brother has a
wife!!) into our family with great honor and joy. It was also a very emotional weekend; Jake is my only sibling, and the baby by six years. I am so incredibly happy for him, but am still not quite sure he should be 16, let alone the 25 year old grown adult
husband that he truly is.
The wedding brought a weekend packed with events starting with the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner on Friday, straight through to the brunch on Sunday. And it turns out that when you have two parents of a 4 month old infant who are both in a wedding, that the infant needs to also attend... and who's being cared for for the day by a darling Aunt and Uncle (Jason's) that live 150 miles away... it is a bit like a clown fire drill at the circus. Everyone going in different directions at ridiculous speeds.
Add to this: Family in town from all over, both for the wedding (essentially ALL of my family, and Jason's parents) and to watch Marin (Jason's aforementioned Aunt and Uncle) who were staying with us, plus Father's Day (Jason's first- so I wanted it to be extra special)... and you see why I have been holding my breath.
As if that weren't enough, on Thursday before the circus rolled into town I came down with a cold. I have one sibling who gets married once in his life, requiring one weekend out of my entire existence, and of course, I'm sick. What are the odds. What's more is, I only got sick because I apparently underestimated the toxicity of germs from a person who only weighs 12 pounds. Marin had been sick, and she passed it to me. In all of Jake's wedding pictures I either have watery eyes (and not from crying) or a red nose from blowing it until my brains about burst. People will look back at the pictures and think I was a crack addict. Johanna the red-nosed bridesmaid.
But there was no time for vanity, because on Sunday morning Marin woke up with a terrible cough. Since Sunday was Father's Day (more on this later) we spent the day monitoring it, and finally decided to take her in first thing Monday morning. Just in time for Jason to ship out to New York on business, leaving me a single mommy for a few days. Monday morning I woke up to call the doctor to find that I, myself, had no voice at this point. When I called some people at work to ask them to take care of some things for me while I was out with Marin, one girl thought it was a
man playing a trick on her.
Monday we spent about 2 1/2 hours at the doctor's office because once we got there the doctor got called into a "difficult case" and we were left waiting. Meanwhile, Marin is coughing up a lung, and the girl at the front desk is all but offering to make me lunch while I wait "patiently". When we finally were seen, the doctor listened to Marin's lungs and told me she was so glad that I brought her in (mom panic sets in here). She also said that Marin was the happiest sick baby she has ever seen (mom pride sets in here). Marin would hack up what sounded like her entire miniature lung and then look up at the doctor and grin from ear to ear. Marin was having labored breathing and was given a nebulizer. For those of you who don't know what this is (I didn't) it is a breathing treatment where by a mask was strapped to Marin's tiny little face and she had to breathe in this medicine that is puffed out through this machine that is plugged into the wall (I'm
clearly not in medicine- this is as technical as I get.). This lasted only 10 minutes, although considering the fact that Marin was screaming bloody murder the whole time, it seemed like 10 hours. So much for the happiest baby bit. Marin was sitting on my lap and I was essentially holding her down, all the while leaning over the machine thinking maybe it would help my lungs, too.
Horrible as this whole thing was, it apparently worked, so Marin was fitted for a little take home mask and was prescribed an inhaler. The rest of Monday was spent sucking Marin's nose out with the aspirator, and trying to get her to inhale her medicine by way of the inhaler, and a tube attached to the mask. Did I mention that Jason was out of town? Poor guy- it was much harder on him to be away, not knowing what was going on. And lord knows that I was wishing he were home, if for no other reason than his two hands, and his patience. When the day was done, I just wanted to sleep. Marin woke up at 2am, 4am, 4:30am, and 5:30am. Awesome.
When Marin wasn't much better the next day, the doctor wanted to see her back again (mom panic continues). Luckily this time Marin was better! She still had the cough, but the doctor said it sounded like it was moving out of her lungs. Best. News. Ever. When we got home, I was greeted by my darling dog, who went to the bathroom all over the rug by the front door- where she no doubt stood patiently for me to take her out- only for me to ignore her due to the (finally sleeping) sick baby. I vehemently apologized to the dog (who at this point thinks she getting a treat) and flipped the rug over to find the laundering directions. "Profession Clean Only." I interpreted this to mean that I can throw it in the tub for a good soak with mild detergent.
When I finished cleaning up the dogs "accident" a quick check of my blackberry reveals that a student has been trying to reach me and when unsuccessful, wrote a note to a colleague to the tune of, "where the (heck) is Johanna and why isn't she helping me." Oh yeah, I have a job. I quickly write to my colleague to explain the situation, then forward the student a quick response and copy another colleague asking her to expand. I had a information session for a struggling group later in the day that I have gotten a slew of RSVP's for- a can't miss- and I asked the same colleague to cover for me. I spent the next few minutes thanking God for my flexible job and that of my friends that I work with.
But the dog needed to go outside, and with her accident fresh in my mind I wasn't taking any chances. So I gathered the baby in her carrier, throw it around my neck, and get the dog outside. As if I didn't already have my hands full, special treat discovered here: the dog has diarrhea. I can't make this stuff up. I don't have to tell you how I spent the rest of this day, but it deals with a lot of sucking and scooping.
At the end of the day, the house was finally quiet. Another check of my blackberry informs me that we have FOUR showings the next day. I did a little happy dance, then began stuffing diapers in the dryer, and dog beds under the couch. And I emptied the trash cans filled with boxes of snotty kleenex.
It suddenly hit me that it is Tuesday night and the next day we are all leaving the house for 11 days. So I began packing for a dog, and a baby and one tired mama (Jason can pack himself when he gets back) for 11 days. Luckily Jason helped schlep some things to the car before he left for New York- hallelujah- one less trip back and forth. I'm not even sure
what made it into my bag. At that point I just hoped that I would be clothed, and that something would fit my slightly bloated post pregnancy frame. I made a master list of all that I needed to pack (categorized by person, of course); it filled an entire legal size of paper. I packed and piled things until after midnight.
Wednesday morning my mom arrived for some much needed relief. With the news that Marin was getting better, I needed to head back to work. I had a meeting in Wheeling, and was 15 minutes late. But I was there and in one piece. That night we went to my parents house for a few days. They helped with Marin, and Jason met us on Friday when he was back in town. It was so great to have us all back under one roof (even if that roof wasn't our own) and on the path to recovery.
Saturday morning, Jason woke up with Marin's cold.
Still, healthy or not, we celebrated a wonderful occasion, and Marin (and I) survived her first bout of sickness. We are headed to Lake Minnetonka in Minneapolis for a Patterson cousin's annual reunion Wednesday morning. And you better believe that come h-e-double hockey sticks or high water, I'll be enjoying a cold drink in the boat by Wednesday afternoon. I'm determined.
I think I have definitely earned my title as "mom".