Yesterday my Dad asked me if I felt like I was living a reality tv show. I had to laugh! Let’s take a look at my week:
This time last week I was relaxing on the beach with my knitting, The Help, and a coffee, watching my children frolic in the surf. Then........
My Grandfather passed away changing our vacation plans. My sister and I drove 2 hours for the wake, 2 hours back to the Cape to pack up the house. We woke up at 5:30am to pack the cars and drive 2 hours to the funeral then 2 hours home after.
My brother, home for one week before leaving for Afghanistan was supposed to be on the Cape with us the days of the wake and funeral. Needless to say that did not happen and we were very disappointed.
On Wednesday of our vacation Grace hurt her achilles tendon while skim boarding. She cried off and on for 24 hours and would not walk properly. Our wonderful pediatrician recommended a trip to the nearest walk in center. Greg did this while I was driving to the wake. Diagnosis was a bruised achilles tendon. However, no help for given to relieve the pain other than “keep limping”. Nice.
Came home Friday night to one very sick dog who acquired canine influenza in the kennel. Brought her to the emergency vet Friday night as I was concerned about her shallow breathing. Prescribed Robetussin -- which worked wonders.
Saturday both dogs were sick, which resulted in another vet bill, this time from our wonderful veterinarian who prescribed antibiotics in addition to the cough suppressant.
Sunday was spent at my mothers with Grace on crutches we borrowed from my nephew. We were supposed to be enjoying being together as a family however the stress of the imminent deployment weighed on us all.
Monday brought us a visit to our wonderful pediatrician since Grace was still crying in pain from her foot. That visit was immediately followed by a visit to our wonderful pediatric orthopedic doctor, who confirmed the original diagnosis, but immobilized her foot in a walking boot which needs to be worn for one week, followed by physical therapy.
Tuesday brought us one last family dinner gathered at my Mom’s house. This time the tension was lighter. Still palpable, but somehow it did not hang so heavy on our shoulders. Just before we sat down to enjoy our Christmas dinner of filet mignon in August, Lilah comes running in, blood pouring out of a one inch cut on her thumb joint. Cause: whittling-- the kids newest pastime. She and I missed dinner rushing to the local walk in center for two stitches. Thankfully, my Mom kept it warm and we enjoyed it an hour later when we returned.
That has been my week.
My bags are still not unpacked and my house is not very clean. My dogs are still not well. Each girl is dealing with their own medical issue. I am having friends to our house for the first time tomorrow (they may be horrified and never come again), but I hope not!
So does this sound like an episode of Real Housewives of New Jersey? Nope. I think it sounds more like an episode of Modern Family!