Last week our youngest had a stomach bug. Eeewww.
This week, we have had one pitfall after another. On Monday several things happened, but the worst was our car dying. We had just been on a field trip and then I went to pick up our tickets for the Michael Bulbe concert(woohoo!) and we were almost home. At a busy corner near our house, the car sputtered and died. ugh I tried to do the little trick that Steven showed me and nothing was happening. As the cars started piling up behind us, they started honking.
The more they honked, the more frantic I became. After almost ten minutes, it still wasn't starting. I called Steven and he tried to talk me thorugh the little trick. Nothing. More honking with rude gestures thrown in. The girls are starting to get hot and cranky. I start crying. Not because I was scared; but because I was powerless to do anything about the situation and crying was all I could do.
We continued to sit there and wait while Steven left work to come rescue us. Finally an older gentleman came over and offered to push us out of the intersection. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I didn't think he would be able to; I was just grateful that someone cared enough to offer. As he started pushing, another younger guy came and helped. They pushed us across the intersection to the far curb and left. After a few minutes the police showed up.
He asked if help was coming and if they could start the car. If not, you need to have it towed. Like I couldn't figure that one out. Sorry, I was getting a little surly by this point. Steven finally showed up after we had been sitting in the hot car for more than 40 minutes and we poured out of the car like roaches running from the light. The van was towed to the mechanics.
I then was allowed to ride my bike to soccer practice with two of the girls. On the way the 8yo crashed and flew over her handle bars. She wasn't hurt; I'm not sure how. We made it home without an incident. whew!
Tuesday we were stuck at home, no car, and our youngest was still acting punky. She wasn't eating and drinking very little. She needed some hydrating fluid. hmmm It looked like I would be walking to the store. No problem except she didn't want me to leave, she wanted held, and the older kids wanted to come with me. We walked and I carried the 40something pound child the whole way there and back.
That night the 12yo started complaining of stomach cramps and a few hours later was kneeling before the porcelain throne. Super.
Meanwhile at supper, we were eating supper because I had ruined the potatoes I was cooking. They were intended for Cheesey Potato Soup and I cooked them so long they were pulvarized. :( Steven graciously stopped for pizza w/o asking any questions. So anyway, I was eating pizza when I bit down and felt a sharp pain and then a wierd empty feeling along my gumline. I carefully moved my food around and discovered that I had broken a molar. I snapped it clean off up to the gumline. My tooth was just gone; at least half of it anyway. It started hurting and I started getting cranky.
I called our dentist office to find out that they were already closed for the day and the next day they were closed as well. It just gets better and better. That night my mouth was hurting and our oldest was moaning in her sleep from stomach cramps. Good times.
Steven woke me up at 6am, I had finally gotten to sleep around 2:30am, so I could take him to work. The dentist let me come in in the afternoon and temporarily fixed my tooth. I get a crown on Friday.
And it's only Wednesday!