Unexplored Territory

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Because life wasn't exciting enough....

Yesterday, the Monkey and I went to The Walton Trust Fund for some items. Sorry Sue..... I can't help myself. I have to go there. If you don't read Sue's (The Mind) blog, you should. She is HIlarious ... and her viewpoints on Wally World... priceless!

So we were done shopping and loading our things into the van. And the phone rings.

I have ringtones for a select few. I know I have talked about them before ... the Mominator has The Godfather. Mini Martha has The Odd Couple.

I really should set something like The Death March to the schools' ringtones.

It was the Queen's school. And not just the secretary .... the dreaded SCHOOL NURSE!

Waiting to hear that the Queen had a headache, or her stomach was hurting her, I stood in the parking lot, tensing up.

But it wasn't that at all. She had taken a "spill" on the playground.

Ok. Fine. This is the same child who took the header off the bus when she was in Kindergarten... that was a good one, let me tell you. So I thought "all right, they want me to talk to her to tell her to go back to class."

Nope. They had sent her back to class after icing the goose egg on her head, but she had returned, complaining of feeling "wobbly" and nauseous.

Of course, the first thought through my head was: concussion. So off to the ER we went.... the first time.

The first time, the Queen looked ok. She was perky. I thought "WHY am I here with you?!?!" The Monkey decided that riding the doctor's chair around the room was good entertainment. I thought so, too ... until she started to climb up on it. And then we were looking at a twofer visit if I didn't get her down. So she was relegated to just riding the seat around, and got a curt "get DOWN from there" when I saw her getting all Monkey-like.

The doc took a look at the Queen, felt the back of her head, said "I don't like to overexpose these kids, so I'm not going to order any scans. She is going to be just fine. I will send you home with a list of things to look for ... if you see any of those, bring her back in IMMEDIATELY!"

So we got our marching orders, and started to take off. I had given the Queen an ibuprofen. And then the games began.

She immediately stated that she felt like she was going to throw up. So she hung over the trashcan. The nurse said "well maybe she's hungry...." so she immediately handed us a package of crackers and a barf bag and sent us on our way.

We didn't even get home before the Queen used that bag.

We got home, she barreled past the Monkey in the van, ran into the house, and laid down in our bedroom with a trashcan. Which she immediately started to use.

Throwing up more than once is one of the signs.

Then she started crying that her head was hurting worse than ever.

The headache getting worse, not better, is another one of those signs.

So the ER was called, they told us to come back immediately, and a CaTscan would be ordered.

We arrived, they scanned, and we sat. And sat. And sat. And sat.

And the Queen got better. And better. And better. To the point that I kept telling her to sit down.

And I sat there, thinking that we had just wasted everyone's time.

You see, the Queen ... when she has a massive headache (we used to think it was migraines), she does this same thing. But when it is so close to a head injury, you have to wonder.

We FINALLY received the green light well over two hours after the scan, rushed off to get the Monkey from dance class so Ace could take the Man to his first Scout meeting, and promptly ran through Taco Bell, where the Queen ordered a Nachos Supreme and a soft taco.

And she snarfed those down like they were being taken away from her at any minute. And threw a fit that her brother was wearing one of her shirts (that was MY fault ... shoot, it was gray), and had gotten a stain on it.

So I would say we are in the clear.

For another day, of course.

Labels: ER trips, the Queen

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

The Queen Who Ate the Fair

After having dealt with my trip to he&& and back, AKA Mammoth Onyz Cave, I decided that whatever else they had planned for the trip I would just bow out of. I wanted to go fishing, so that was a given that I would be there for that. I actually LOVE to fish, believe it or not. But that story is for Thursday's reading pleasure.

Saturday, after getting off the boat, the inlaws wanted to go back to their house and rest for a while. Then they wanted to take the kids out to the county fair! Yeehaw!!!

I had already made the decision that I wouldn't be attending because (1) the only fair I like is our fair and (2) just the idea of spending time in the close proximity of tobacco chewers and spitters, and the crowd that was there just to see the tractor pulls didn't excite me in the least.

Ace took an oath that he would not allow the kids to eat meat at this fair. I said "whatever you do ... DO NOT LET THE KIDS EAT MEAT."

I had these visions. Visions of being stuck at my inlaws house for ONE more day while the four of them ralphed into trashcans because of some nasty food poisoning. I am NO dummy.

Apparently in Ace's mind, the oath meant NOTHING. Zilch. Nada.

Yeah yeah yeah... if I had wanted to be the control freak that we all know I am, I would have gone along. But I didn't want to go, so there.

They are gone for a good four hours, coming home smelling of the outdoors and cotton candy. They were telling me all about the rides that I would NEVER have placed my worst enemy's kids on, and then they went off to bed. They were still pretty riled up.

About an hour goes by, and I can't stay awake any longer. We head off downstairs, and the Queen is still awake. She can't get comfortable. Her stomach was hurting her. I turned and looked at Ace and asked him "WHAT did she eat?"

Knowing the Queen's penchant for junk food, I could only imagine. In the short amount of time they were there, the Queen consumed:

1. A bag of cotton candy
2. A caramel apple with nuts
3. A Sprite
4. A lemon shakeup
5. Part of a funnel cake
6. A CORN DOG

Now, the last time I had checked, the dog part of the corn dog means meat. Does it mean something else in other parts of the world that Ace has never been to? Thankyouverymuch for listening to me, dear.

She settled into my bed for the night (because, deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep down inside, I was hoping the Queen would let loose of her stomach contents on him during the night; it didn't happen that way). I went to sleep with the Monkey. Who promptly woke up. And started talking to me. At midnight.

Mommy... you sleeping with me (this time, she sounded nothing like DeNiro)? Why you sleeping with me?

Shhhhh... go to sleep.

10 minutes later: Mommy.... you still here? Why you here?

GO TO SLEEP!

Finally realizing and remembering that this child does not do well with people other than her 10,000 dolls and Barbies in her bed, I decided to leave for that lovely cot. The one that creaked like I was going to break it in half.

I try to get some sleep, but that cot is just so .... uncomfortable. It is fine and dandy for an 8 year old, but not a 37 year old. I get a little bit of sleep, but then my stooopid bladder wakes me up.

I decide that I am going to go sleep on the concrete floor that has carpet on it, otherwise known as the Monkey's floor. THAT is flipping uncomfortable. I manage to sneak back into the Monkey's bed with her, and sleep in a very precarious position for about 30 minutes.

Then she wakes up from a bad dream, and proceeds to carry on ANOTHER conversation with me. I leave for the cot again (only after having made it make a horrid sound, and the Monkey had to come out and survey whether the cot was still in one piece, as well as her mother).

The Queen gets up for the day, eats a good breakfast that her Grammy has made for her, and the proceeds to complain MORE about her stomach. At one point, she thought she was going to throw up.

So we bed her down in the back of the van, give her some trashbags, and hope for the best.

About 3 1/2 hours into the trip, she ralphs in a plastic bag. But then she is remarkably better. I guess she just needed to get it all out.

I would like to thank my husband for giving all of this to me as payback for having 4 hours of unadulterated silence.

I should have gone to that da** fair.

Labels: fairs, summer vacation, the Queen

I'm a mom of three peeps ... Queen Bee, The Door Man, and the Chandelier Monkey, and wife to Ace, the Helpful Hardware Man. I created this space to get away from the people known as my inlaws, and because life with three kids and a hubby is all Unexplored Territory.

The nine-year-old who seems to be growing older every minute, has an opinion and a comment for everything, and has a true servant's heart.

The seven-year-old who loves the organization of things, will someday be someone's therapist because of his kind soul, and will more than likely be living with us until he is 40 years old.

The five-year-old with the 13-year-old attitude, who has a dictator's personality, asks you to watch her all the time and say "hold on" to keep your attention, and will someday come home on the back of some dude's motorcycle with 10 tatts and a body piercing or two.

The man of the house, the fixer of things, the winner of prizes, and the only person in his family to escape the South.