It's All In the Past

Well, happy birthday to our dear little Allie! Wow, three years old! I just can't believe it, really. I also can't believe, too, that of all days to be sick, those punk germs had to take up residence in Allie's body on her birthday. Poor little thing. Sami is sick, too, actually. Man, I don't know why, but for the past two weeks, our house has been a literal snot factory. I think it probably had to do with the fact that I was getting too comfortable, and perhaps even slightly proud, of our "stout, healthy, invincible" immune systems. Mother Nature likes to kick ya in the pants when she sees that kind of pride-- "Healthy? Ha! Wanna bet?" Since this whole sick-cycle came into play, Allie has coughed little, dry fake-sounding coughs, And, in fact, I did think she was faking it, so I ignored her. Thursday we noticed she suddenly sounded like a chain smoker. Hoping it would go away, we kept an eye on it until Friday morning when I called the doctor to make an afternoon appointment for her. Dr. Nguyen checked her out, said she looked fine and that the only thing he could do was try to make a good guess, going with the hypothesis that she has mycoplasma, which most people know as "walking pneumonia." He prescribed something and sent us on our way, so now I'm just waiting to see if that stuff works. Man, I sure hope so, 'cause she sounds terrible. Plus, on top of that, she also caught Sami's cold, where Old Faithful ain't got nothin' on them. I mean, what could be more "faithful" than two little "geysers" that flow constantly. You sometimes think, Man, there just can't be anything more in there! And then Mother Nature steps in, rearing that ugly head again, laughing hysterically, providing the never-ending supply of mucus you thought just wasn't possible.

Oh, but going back to Friday... Some of you may be wondering why on earth I would wait until the afternoon to take Allie to the doctor. After all, any good mother would take her child in right when the office opened in the morning. All right, so that's what I usually do. But this time we were faced with a dilemma. See, we have a small temple-going group where we go all together once a month, with one of the couples babysitting all the children in the stake center (church building) across the street. This month happened to be our month to babysit, and Friday happened to be our temple day. Since we didn't want to leave everyone hangin', we took Allie anyway, since other than that cough, she really looked and acted fine. Kev, of course, brought his basketball, which Taylor and Cameron thought was pretty manly, I think. Later, while the kids were watching Cars in one of the classrooms, Kev stayed in the gym shooting the ball around by himself, and I wandered the halls with little baby Jane, who was tired, hungry, and missing her mommy. After a while, Kev came out announcing to me that he had just dunked on a regulation hoop for the first time in eight years! We wondered if it had to do with the whole losing-twenty-pounds-thing. So, good job, Kev! Heck, I never even dunked on that gimpy four-foot hoop they had at my elementary school. Granted, desire may have had something to do with that, but still...

I've also been proud of Kev for all of the household projects he has been completing for me, even though he hates it and would rather eat worms. It's nice to know he loves me more than he loves worms. That's what marriage is all about. But seriously, he put a chain and a peephole on the front door for me. And while I realize a measly little chain doesn't make me invincible, it makes one more barrier for a bad guy, and keeps little Miss Mischief inside. Here's what I mean... At the end of January, I got in the shower, having turned on the security alarm, as I always do just in case the little squirt tries to sneak out (she can unlock the deadbolt). In the middle of my relaxing, quiet moment, I nearly jumped out of my skin as the alarm sounded. Panicking, I bursted out of the shower, dripping wet, and ran to my bedroom door, poking my head out to see Allie frozen at the slightly open front door. I screamed, "ALLIE, SHUT THE DOOR!" She looked at me, completely distraught and confused, and I screamed again, at the top of my lungs (it's a loud alarm), "ALLIE, SHUT THE DOOR!" She didn't. I ran back and grabbed my robe. On my way to turn the alarm off, I remembered a termite inspector was scheduled to come that day. Oh no, I thought, so I glanced at the clock. I turned off the alarm, walked over to the the door, stood behind, and to see if someone was really there, said, "I'll be back in a minute!"

"Sure, no problem!" came the reply.

Aw, dang it! I shut the door, hopped back in the shower, rinsed my hair of the shampoo, got out and threw some clothes on. And needless to say, I taught Allie that in the future if someone comes to the door, she should not open the door, but come and tell me.

The next time the Terminix guy came to the door while I was in the shower, and she did just that-- came running in the bathroom saying, "Mom, go open the door!" Way to go, Allie! Man, I really need to get in the shower earlier.

And can you believe that Sami never woke up from her nap through that whole alarm incident? Gotta love that child.