"What a week I'm having!"

That line is from Splash, when Eugene Levy has been through a week of broken limbs, being hosed down in the street, and falling down stairs. He says it with the best whine, I can totally hear it now, and it perfectly captures how I'm feeling. I love that movie. Have I ever told you about my love affair for Tom Hanks? Another time, then.

Let's start with the fact that for three weeks, one of my kids has been sick. Two weeks ago, Fynn spent nearly five days with a fever up in the 103s. I finally got him all better, in time for Ewan's birthday party, when Ewan popped up with a high fever the following Tuesday. As of this Monday, his fever hadn't even started to get better, so off to the doctor we went, and she determined he did actually need antibiotics. But it took three days before they started to show effectiveness, three days of Ewan having screaming, crying panic attacks because he couldn't breathe and because his fever was so high. Fynn's well-baby checkup was on Wednesday, and he was vaccinated. I've never had trouble with their vaccinations before, but last night, Fynn had a 104.2 fever. Now, I'm usually pretty cool and collected about illness, but fevers make me completely panic. Not to mention one that is 104.2. So while he was getting love and cold water from Daddy, I was doing some research online (not a good idea in this case) and I the first website I found had hundred of accounts from parents whose children had received the very shot Fynn received. Accounts of very high fevers. Seizures. Autism. Death. I went into the bedroom and said, "You will give that baby a blessing RIGHT NOW." He did, and I was completely astonished at how quickly that fever cleared up. It was like a magic wand had been waved. I've never had such a faith reaffirming experience in my entire life. He still has a fever today, but not nearly as high, and hopefully it will clear soon. So after having spent three days this week at Target pharmacy, hopefully we'll all finally be well at the same time.

I have to interject here to say that in the middle of typing this, Fynn was done with his lunch, so I walked over to him to take him out of the highchair, bumped into one of my very pretty plates hanging on my wall and it broke (one with sentimental value that I've had for ten years.) Just thought you should know.

Last night, we received some extremely distressing news about members of our family, which I won't go into, but it's not good, so there's that. Besides the illness, family problems and broken plates - on Wednesday I got into the car to go pay for Ewan's preschool, and the battery was dead. Bryce hasn't gotten home early enough to fix it yet this week, so I've been driving his car. After discovering this morning we were out of bread, I decided to do the weekly grocery trip. Kids all strapped in, halfway down the street, I realize I'm driving on a completely flat tire. In fact, driving on the rim. (But I have an awesome mother-in-law, who immediately came and sat with the kids so I could take her car. Thanks, Mary Ann!) Thursday Ewan threw a royal fit and refused to go into preschool, which resulted in us sitting in the parking lot for nearly half an hour because neither one of us would back down. I did finally win, after several times threatening to dismantle all electronic fun-ness out of the house.

Yucky sidenotes:  my dog peed on the rug, 3/4 of the way into the book I've been reading all week, I realized it actually stinks and can't finish it, and the news about the pregnant man was all over everything.  Ensuring that if I don't have morning sickness, I'll still be nauseated.

Forgive me for being a downer, because I will end on good notes - we got good news about the pregnancy, Ewan is finally better, the sun is shining, my testimony in blessing was strengthened, Mary Ann rocks, and I have eggrolls and Coke in my fridge. And it's FRIDAY. Things are looking up.