We had a rather exciting weekend. I say that somewhat tongue in cheek...:/
Frankly - I barely remember much of it. First of all, Riley wasn't feeling so hot at the end of last week and in between me checking on his temperature and making sure school was finished up for the moment, I was hollering for people to quit kissing the baby. The new rule is 'you can kiss the top of her head ONLY' until you are not sniffling, fevering, or sneezing.
Then Janelle was feeling puny. Oh boy...here we go. By Friday evening - things weren't going so well. Charlotte started in and by Saturday afternoon my arms were numb from carrying her. She's little, but when you're holding her all the time she seems bigger. We spent a good chunk of Saturday velcro-ed together. By late that afternoon, most of the other kiddos were doing better but Charlotte managed to be 'off' for a while longer.
Earlier in the week (Monday, to be exact) we bought a vehicle. Found one we liked and off we went. Seems like a really great fit for us. Major 'thing' checked off the to-do list. Alan had asked if he could drive it and Saturday it was obvious *I* wasn't going anywhere. He had some errands to run and a meeting in Portland that afternoon so off he went in the snazzy, new to us van.
The day kind of worn on and I was getting a whole lot of baby snuggling and holding down the rocking chair done when Alan finally called around 5. His voice sounded kind of strange but I chalked it up to the meeting and hang out afterwards. Nooooooo.....he was calling me to come and pick him up. The van had died. In Portland. I thought he was joking and wanted to make some snarky comment about picking up Thai food as he walked home but then some bell went off in my brain. Oh. My. Heck. He wasn't kidding. I spluttered some inane verbiage and at one point the words, "I can't believe this is happening" came out of my mouth. His response? "Oh, I can." Aaaarrrggghhh....
So here I sat at home with a screaming baby, 3 other kids that were just coming back from 'dragging-ville', and a car that won't fit all of us if I *do* run over to Portland to pick him up. I hung up and posted on Facebook to my SL sisters in the trenches. I seriously couldn't even THINK what to do. They prayed I'm sure because I found a brain cell with which to think. I called a few tow places. $250 minimum. Oh....bad word. I called my parents. Shoot. On a last ditch effort and hope, I called our auto insurance to see if we had any kind of roadside assistance. HALLELUJAH. We do. I have no idea what it will do to our rates, but at that point I DIDN'T CARE. Beyond the irritating fact that we'd JUST bought the dumb van and it was already breaking down on us, I didn't want my hubby hitching his way back here or the new to us van getting towed to 'car jail' where we'd have to pay bigger bucks for it.
Did I mention that Charlotte had been screaming this whole time?
Alan finally got home about 8:30 with the van after a cushy ride in the cab of the tow truck. As he walked in, he dropped the mail on the counter. In it was the title to said van. 'Hmmm....now we can pay taxes and register the thing in our name. Oh wait, it's BROKEN DOWN." :maniacal laughter: It was the alternator. 24 hours later he had it fixed so it's almost humorous at this point. Almost. My sense of humor is still lost somewhere in 2011. I find fragments of it here and there scattered at inappropriate moments but for the most part, in the moment, I'm finding very few coping skills. Thank goodness Alan is still sane - and blessed with the gift of 'fix-it'.
Riley and Janelle seem better. Charlotte seems better. Natalie hasn't caught anything yet. The van is working. Whew....