Crazy Week.

I have six days to have the house packed up. Ross and the two girls leave a week from today, and I want it done before they leave so that I'll have a couple days to clean everything. Since every story has a bit of humor to it, here's how my week from Hell has been, climaxing with this morning.

The night before last, Aoife threw up BIG TIME around 9:30. It continued every 15 minutes throughout the ENTIRE night. Needless to say, by morning, I was running on fumes. Neither of us had slept. She was miserable and STILL throwing up. I took her in to the doctor at 11. They decided to keep her to watch her for a little more than an hour. (We spent almost 2 1/2 hours at the office, people!) I was to feed her 1 teaspoon of Pedialyte every five to 8 minutes. Claire screamed the whole time out of boredom, and Aoife screamed the whole time due to hunger and feeling miserable. I can't count how many times nurses stuck their heads in the door to check on us. They probably thought I was breaking my children's fingers, one at a time. I wanted to scream and cry, too.

The doctor decided to let us go home for a little break. She said it was because we lived so close, but I'm thinking it's because we were giving her a headache. Aoife was so exhausted, I just put her down. Claire did her usual thing while I attempted to clean and pack a little more. And eat. Lately I've been so occupied, I forget to eat.

I was on a roll cleaning the girl's room. (See earlier posts about Claire protesting naps for pictures, and you'll understand what a project it really is.)  I checked the clock and realized Aoife had been sleeping for over three hours! It usually isn't like her, so I went to check on her. Sometimes when she takes long naps, I automatically assume she has died. Much to my heart's relief, she wasn't dead. But there were a couple different puddles of vomit. I hadn't fed her since we'd been in the office, so she hadn't kept those 6 teaspoons of fluid down.

I called the doctor again, and she immediately sent us to have her blood drawn. A sweet friend took Claire for me, and even picked up Ross from work. (Thank you Jenna! I was a frantic mess yesterday!) When I took Aoife in, the nurses had a REALLY hard time finding a vein. I mean, one arm was impossible, and the other they had to wrap the elastic around her little arm extra tight. I had to pin her down when they put the needle in, but they still couldn't find a vein! They dug around with the needle for a while until they finally hit one. Her blood came out so slowly, like molasses or jelly, I was surprised they got enough to test. I felt so bad for the poor girl.

We had to wait FOREVER for the results to come back. The nurses and doctor even called down to the lab multiple times to tell them to hurry up. Aoife couldn't stay awake at this point, and I thought for sure they'd admit her. We were the last people in the office, aside for a couple nurses, and her two doctors. When the results came, her two doctors debated for a while. Dr. Later was going to Mt. Timp hospital for a few hours. They would have admitted her at that hospital so that he in particular could watch over Aoife, but her insurance didn't cover that hospital. Instead, Sue-Ann, her other doctor, gave me her cell phone number. I was to watch Aoife for the next few hours. If she were to get sick again, I'd give her doctor a call, and Aoife would be admitted to Utah Valley.

Luckily last night went smoothly and Aoife slept soundly, without getting sick. This morning even went well, too. I was supposed to only feed her a tiny bit of Pedialyte, but I could tell Aoife was well past hungry. I gave her a full bottle of it instead, and she has kept it down so far!

This morning I drove Ross to work. Our gas gauge was low, but the light hadn't come on yet. I had planned on getting gas on the way home, after dropping Ross off. There's a gas station right on the way home, but it's usually more expensive than one down the street. I drove past that station, turned to go down the street to the other station, and... put put put. I managed to pull to the side of the road, before the car refused to go any further. Right in front of my beloved Sonic. (It was a sign. I wasn't going to get one today.) I pulled out the stroller, loaded the girls, and walked to the station I had passed just mere minutes before.

They didn't have a canister I could borrow, so we trudged to the store to buy one. Then back to the station to fill it. Then back to the car. I've never run out of gas before. Ever. I've never even had to fill a lawn mower with gas. And the canister I bought didn't have the spout on the end. It was one that you kind of had to build the spout. I spent forever on the side of the road trying to figure out the stupid thing.

A gentleman quickly pulled up behind me and asked if I needed him help. Gratefully, I handed the spout over. He couldn't figure it out either and left as quickly as he came. At least he unscrewed the thing before he drove off! I decided to just try to get SOMETHING in the tank, so I could drive the 100 yards to the station and fill up. I ended up soaked in gasoline on the side of the road, just PRAYING that no one would drive past and throw a lit cigarette out the window. Otherwise, I'd light up the block like the 4th of July!

I managed to get something in there, and was able to fill up. Then I pulled into Sonic claiming that I needed a LARGE Diet Coke.

How many idiots does it take to fill a gas tank? Well, just one. And the gentleman who tired quickly. But I have officially joined the 'Lovelands who run out of gas club".

This week has been hysterical. It's funny how all of the chaos decided to wait until the final days of moving prep. Bring it on world. I have a sonic across the street and a sense of humor the size of Texas.