Sick as a dog

Dave got a bug a while back, maybe two weeks ago. It was a fierce cold that wouldn't go away. I think traces of it are FINALLY gone. I was thinking we were all in the clear when lo and behold about a week after the fact, Drake started in on the same symptoms. We tried to combat it as best we could when ultimately we ended up in the doctors office this past Wednesday. He had a ruptured ear drum and double ear infection. Awesome. Meanwhile, both Carson and Brooks have been battling the sniffles and coughs. Not me though, I was fine.
Thursday night I started feeling like ca-ca. Dave put me to bed early (7:30 ish) and did EVERYTHING around the house and with the kids. Bless my perfect husband! I had an incredibly hard time falling asleep, my brain was trying to burn it's way out the front of my skull. I feel asleep late, and had a fit-filled night. I woke up Friday morning determined to make it all happen; let Dave go to work, take care of kids, house, and everything else on my plate. Not so much. I called Dave at 8:20.
"Please come home", I begged. "I am feeling really sick".
I spent the rest of the day in bed moaning, writhing, and crying (blast those hot, fever tears). I couldn't even get to the bathroom unassisted (Katie, where were you?!) - I thought I was going to pass out.
I had spiked a fever of 103 which felt more like a million degrees. My body ached terribly. Dave came in to see what I needed and rubbed my leg; it make me wince, I was so achy and tender! My throat was sore. But mostly, my brain. Oh, my brain. It was killing me. and Ibuprofen had done nothing.
In the evening I sent Dave to the store for some Aleve; I've heard it works a bit better. It did nothing.
8:30 rolled around and I was starting to worry and get seriously nauseous. Because of the stiffness in my neck, I starting thinking things like; meningitis...aneurism...
Then, I sort of started to freak out, and might or might not have ripped of my clothes...
Dave called our neighbors and good friends to come watch the kids while he took me to the doctor. "Do you think I am ok?" I kept asking between sobs as we drove to the clinic. I hobbled into the urgent care clinic, sat in a chair and moaned and groaned. I was quite the spectacle I am sure. I was writhing; I changed positions about every two seconds - seriously. My hair was out. of. control. I had done it in a bun on the top of my head earlier that day so I could take a bath and then lay down without it messing with my head on my pillow. With all the discomfort, I had developed some great "dreads" on the back of my head. The rest was now flopping around on the top of my noggin. My mascara was smeared down my cheeks from the night before, and the crying. And to top it off I hadn't eaten anything (I tried!) because of the raging fever, and had some horrendous ketosis breath.
Then I barfed, right there in front of everybody.
What seemed like and eternity later, they finally called my name. To make a long story short; I have a nasty case of strep throat which, the doctor explained hits adults a lot harder than little kids, and mine is extreme at that.
So after one thick, gooey shot in the bum, a Zofran under the tongue, numbing throat rinse (which numbs my tongue more than anything), and prescription anti-inflammatory pills for my brain; I still feel like poo. You thought I'd say I felt better, didn't ya? :)
My throat KILLS today - much worse than yesterday. The brain pills help a lot though. When I feel like my cranium is shrinking down around my brain and it's about ready to come exploding through, I take another of those blessed pills. Otherwise, most symptoms are the same except my fever is gone.
Drake is already on antibiotics from the ear infections, but Carson and the baby are at risk. I am praying nobody else gets this. I am being very careful not to share my germs as I am still contagious for the next few hours. Also, I learned at the doctors that children under two are FAR less likely to get strep and the medical world doesn't know why, but that was a little nugget of relief for me. So that leaves Carson. We have a very close eye on him. What a blessing it will be if we don't have to take him in too.
After all this sickness, I suppose I am more grateful than ever for my sweet, little family, especially a worthy priesthood holder who can administer to us when we need it. I guess, all I can say, is mine is a blessed life :).

* I should mention some funny parts of this story:
Last night Carson and Drake saw me leave and were a bit concerned. Today while talking about it and trying to lighten it up a bit, I told them how I threw up at the clinic.
"You threw up?" Carson was immediately intrigued.
"Yup"
"Cool! What color was it??"....I'll spare you the rest of that conversation.

Also, while at the clinic, the ever-so-enthusiastic (NOT) assistant who checked me in was going through the run-down of symptoms, vitals, family history, etc.
"When was your last period?"
"Two years ago," I said. His head jerked up. I secretly delighted in getting a reaction out of him. Like a good patient though I went on to explain that I had a nursing 9 month old and hadn't had a period since getting pregnant. Melanie =1 Burned out Medical Assistant =0

It's good logic I suppose

Drake was rather upset that we were putting him to bed last night. In his little mind it was rather unjust, "I not go to bed tonight; I went to bed last night!"

I scream, you scream, we all scream...

...but nobody screams as well as Drake screams.

Our little public library has a new children's room and computer lab. It is the neatest place. They have some awesome and educational puzzles, games, places to draw, dress ups, magnets, etc. They also have four computers designated ONLY for children 7 and under. They are on short little tables with adorable tiny chairs for those little bums to sit in. The monitors are HUGE and have a cool, hard plastic covers, so for those not quite skilled enough to use a mouse, they can touch the screen instead.
Carson and Drake were LOVING the cute little computers with their educational games tailored to young kids. To top it all off, there was a Dora feature on them. Since they both have crushes on her, that is where they spent the entirety of the allotted 20 minutes time session...and then it came to an end.
cue D.R.A.M.A.
"Drake, handsome; our time is up on the computer and it is lunch time so we should go home and make something yummy to eat," I whispered in his ear while gently pulling the earphones from off his head.
Strong, little hands shot up stopping the headphone removal. "No! Watch Doh-wuh!" Was the emphatic response I received while he struggled to adjust the headphones back in place.
"No, we need to go see daddy, and then eat lunch," I prompted again.
Carson was quick to respond and close up at his station.
"NO! Watch DOH-WUH!" The decibel level was rising. He now had a death grip on the headphones.
Seeing this was not going to be easy, I braced myself, made sure the baby was secure and comfortable in the sling on my chest, readjusted my purse and bag of books on my arm, squared my shoulders, and advanced on the ornery little booger.
I tried leading him by the hand toward the doorway but as though he was attached to some giant rubber band, he would snap right back to that computer, clawing for the headphones in a hysterical fit screaming for his love.
At this point I had to set my purse and bag down (which Carson promptly picked up for me. My hero!), and grip Drake by the upper arm with one hand while prying the headphones out of his fingers with the other.
Eventually we made it out the doorway but still had the whole library to traverse chuck full of people watching our circus act.
Drake had already pulled the limp as a fish, throw himself on the floor routine, so I had to lug him, sobbing, screaming and hacking (which he does we he gets really worked up) by the upper arms, and waddle over his writhing body between my knees with the baby craned forward off my chest trying to watch the wild animal below him. Carson followed, grunting, sweating, and yanking on the bags he was pulling.
After what seemed like an eternity, we made it out the front door. My forearms were burning from the exertion of hauling 35 pounds of moving craziness, in an awkward position. At least we were outside where screaming was (slightly) more acceptable.
We continued the show when all of the sudden I heard, "Hello, Sister Crockett! How are you?" Hallelujah, I was saved...until I turned and saw the missionaries. The ONLY people from church who can't actually hold a baby or child.
"Oh, I'm wonderful!" I panted.
They all burst out laughing. Rightfully so. We were pretty comical. On they went.
Hoping the missionaries were enough of a distraction, and feeling like making it out of the building was a safe bet to let Drake go, I did just that. It was a deadly mistake indeed. Drake was off like a shot; his stumpy little legs pumping FAST; he flew up the sidewalk, tore through the doors, and ran through the library and all I could do was watch his red shirt fade in the distance along with his screams of torture. I was speechless, and defeated.
"Go get him, mommy," I heard a small voice behind me say. There was sweet Carson.
And so, I followed.
I made it back through the library doors to see a little red bullet fly around the corner.
"Can you catch him??" I desperately begged of a man watching the scene unfold.
He tried, but was a little intimidated by the feral animal now snarling in the computer lab. It was up to me.
I cornered him, slung him up on my hip hoping the baby would forgive me for squishing him, and ran out of the building past all the faces still staring our direction.
It only got worse from there. But eventually we made it home. After the exorbitant amount of boogers being shot from flaring nostrils, angry tears, bloodcurdling screams, and sore muscles, it was done. I guess the only thing to do now is laugh because it's either that or cry, and I am an ugly crier. Besides, it's a funny story; just ask all the people we tormented at the library...

Dance Party!

For our family scripture study were are currently reading about Alma and Amulek. I think I have mentioned how we read scriptures, if not, I'll recap; we each read a verse (or picture from the illustrated Book of Mormon), it was Carson's turn.

What he was SUPPOSED to repeat, "...Zeezrom began to shake with fear."
What was ACTUALLY said, "...Zeezrom began to shake his rear."

...I'm still laughing

They won't stop changing!!

These little boys are growing up so quickly! I just wanted to add a picture of each of them for no reason other than to look back and see how cute they were at 4, 2, and 8 months! And, I threw one in there of Dave and I on his birthday. (Nevermind that Carson and Drake wouldn't take a normal picture. I guess around here that is what you call....normal!)

Whoops! Forgot Christmas!!

Drake's spoils

One of Santa's elves hard at work.

Carson's loot

And quite possibly the boys favorite part of Christmas; the fact that Santa came and ATE THE COOKIES!!! If that's not proof that he's real, I don't know what is!

16 inches of snow!

We got DUMPED on these past few days. A big storm system hit our area and is continuing east. There are a few things about it that stress me out, that being said, I am putting a smile on my face about it. In honor of each blessed inch that we got, here are 16 things I like about it:
1. It waters my lawn (after seeding that past fall, I can't be grateful enough for this moisture!)
2. It makes everything beautiful
3. It's romantic to cuddle up inside a warm, cozy home while it snows outside
4. We are blessed with the means to stay warm even when it's freezing outside...or you happen to be buried in a snow pile...

5. It's fun to dress Drake up in his snow gear and watch him try to move in it...yes, he is face down on the carpet...motionless

6. I am SOOOOO grateful for a garage to park in. No snow on my cars thankyouverymuch! (This is one bizarre picture...it cracks me up that all you can see is my legs. I am trying to fix Drake's boots and I had to sit down to do it. I had no idea this picture even existed till five minutes ago.)
7. I am grateful for my boots; even if they aren't snow boots...

8. It's a lot of fun to be able to play in it with these two little goofballs.
9. Snow makes me grateful for snow shovels. We'd be toast without them!
10. That being said, I am grateful when it snows because I like to shovel it.
11. I like to exercise and shoveling snow is a FANTASTIC workout. Dave and I burned 1000 calories today just clearing the driveway.
12. Storms like this make memories.

Notice how deep our pile is already...use the snow shovel as a reference. This is after just half to two-thirds of the driveway has been cleared...see below

13. I don't have to sleep in it. Can you imagine being a pioneer??!!
14. It makes me appreciate the other seasons even more.
15. It's fun to play in the snow. Better than leaves if you ask me (even though autumn is my favorite season).
16. It it more evidence of a majestic God.

Dave turned 28!

This year was Dave's golden birthday. We celebrated but it was nothing too extravagant. I have been so incredibly busy lately I did the very best I could but it only amounted to a dinner at Red Robin, some AWESOME Fluffernutter Cake Bars, and a quiet shopping session at Kohls with a gift card.
There is no way to sum up how I feel about this man; suffice it to say, if I only had 28 seconds with him ever in my whole life, I would feel like the luckiest girl on the planet.