So its just been a week since my last post - for that I am quite proud of myself. I will get better at this blogging thing - I promise. And then you will be annoyed with me and my life you will never want to visit this blog again :)
Sooo...what have we been up to....
We went to the Houston Pumpkin Festival this past weekend. It was a lot of fun, but very, very muddy. Which paired with a 4 year old and a one year old meant mama was in for some killer laundry :). Ava got to ride on the train though and she LOVED it. I was even more impressed that she didn’t have a complete meltdown, when after waiting for EONS to ride the thing, the rope cut off right before her when we got to the front of the line. My daughter held it together and simply said “now I get to pick my own color, mommy”. Lemons to lemonade! I was so proud of her.
On Sunday I went to the flea market to try and rid our house of some baby items Ella has outgrown. Wasn’t very successful at all – but I did get a pretty big self esteem boost watching some of the people who look like regulars there. No offense to bargain hunters – but you guys know who I am talking about. The people for whom lycra is a fashion statement. Oh yeah.
In amazing mom fashion, I also made it to church on Sunday with Ava and she got to go to her 2nd time of Sunday school. She seems to really enjoy it. She brought back her little page they were using for their lesson and it was about sharing. I noticed on the front she had colored two of the children red around their heads. I asked her what that meant and she told me “they were bleeding mommy”. It took me a few minutes to absorb that information, all the while imagining the HUGE therapy bill we were obviously going to need for our toddler. I then asked her why they were bleeding. “They were hurt, mommy”. So after a bit of pondering I had finally figured out what she meant. You see – two weeks ago tomorrow Ava experienced something that I hope that no one EVER has to experience with their child. She couldn’t breathe. It was 11:30pm. We had just gone to bed and heard her crying on the monitor. We assumed she was having a bad dream. Phil went upstairs and ran back down with her frantically. She couldn’t breathe. In between what little breath she was taking she would cough and it sounded like croup to me. We took her outside in the cold air and tried steam. This process altogether took about 10 minutes and without any success, I rushed off to the ER with her still frantic and not breathing in the back seat of our SUV. I called 911 and told them my 4 year old asthmatic was on her way to the ER so that they would be ready. When we got there – they gave her epinephrine and a steroid and after about 20-30 minutes she was breathing more normally. It was, by far, the scariest moment of my life to date. And obviously was pretty scary for our daughter too. I asked her on the way to school yesterday if the kids on the picture from Church were hurt because they couldn’t breathe? She said - yes mommy, that is why they were hurt. That is why they were red.
So that was that. I hope she is able to make peace with it soon. I know this mommy won’t forget it though. Not ever.