This past week has been nuts. Nuts, I tell ya.
Jason and I have both been meeting ourselves coming and going over the past couple of weeks. Come Saturday, he will have worked 21 days straight. No breaks. No rest. Not one day off. And when he gets home from a stressful and busy day, he helps me endlessly with the girls.
I have been busy with work and the girls and keeping up with what feels like all of our crazy schedules.
Stella has been sick with a cough, a fever and she developed a nasty rash all over her legs and arms. This was due to a switch in laundry detergent that I'm convincing myself someone else forced me to buy at gunpoint. Needless to say, the girl has not been getting a lot of sleep, which translates into none of us getting a lot of sleep.
Free and clear for the rest of our lives.
Friday the girls were in our friends' wedding...it was so beautiful, the bride was gorgeous and the girls did a great job.
Chloe was the epitome of a flower a girl. She was 100% committed and played the part perfectly. She kept saying, "I can't wait to go get married!!!!" Her daddy wasn't so happy about that comment. I pointed out that I was okay with it because at least she wasn't telling people she was going to marry her sister. This has been her ongoing dialogue for the past couple of weeks. Weird.
Stella was her normal spit-fire, full-of-life self and did a really, really great job. She ripped the bow out of her head right before she walked, no ran, down the aisle, but she sure was cute. The manner in which she ran down the aisle reminded me of the time last week she streaked through the Y in nothing but a diaper and pair of sandals. Quite possibly the most embarrassing and funniest moment of my life.
Then we move to Saturday. Thought Stella was on the up and up with being sick and right before Jason and I went to bed I said, "I think we'll actually get a really good night's sleep tonight."
Kiss of death. Don't ever say those words.
Stella was coughing up a storm and Chloe started running a fever.
To add injury to insult, Chloe cut her eyeball on her dad's leg hair when he was picking the feverish kid up out of bed in the middle of the night.
Let me repeat. She cut her eye on his leg hair. I am just so thankful it wasn't mine.
An early morning call to the doctor's office turned into a run to the ER. The girl has a corneal abrasion. From her dad's leg hair. (I don't think I can say it enough, it's so weird.)
So there you have it. We've been busy. We've been sick. We've had our corneas abrased (not an actual word). But we just keep plugging along. That's all you can do, right? Keep moving forward. Enjoy the moment. Continue working hard.
Case and point. After I took Chloe to the ER, we stopped to get some ice cream. She can't open her right eye at all and pretty much keeps it covered with a rag. But the girl adapted and pressed on.
And albeit, she ate that ice cream with her eyes closed.
Even at the cost of her clean face and the teddy bear the nurse gave her at the ER. It was precious.
If there's ever anything I can teach her, don't ever give up, girl. Especially when it comes to the important things, like ice cream.
Oh, and did I tell you that somewhere along the way I entered my third trimester? Flying by. And all I have to show for a belly shot is this ridiculous picture from Halloween.
As I've promised my girls, I will promise the boy too. Therapy is paid for, expressly by me.
I should probably post some Halloween pictures, come to think of it. That will be first on my list when things return somewhat to normal.
Did I tell you that Chloe has a corneal abrasion from her dad's leg hair? I don't think I can say it enough.
Jason's gonna kill me.