I Smell Like Toasted Coconuts, and I Called 911

We headed home from the NICU for a few days at home. We got in around noon yesterday. I went to a salon and got my haircut, thankful for the stylist who understood our situation because her nephew was in the NICU for a time. Thankful she understood and I could just relax, vent a bit, and get my hair cut.

I took the kids to the pool again. Bliss. Relaxing. Well, other than when Abi's swim diaper burst while she was sitting out drying. And other than the moment my friend, who happened to show up with her little family while we were there, and I were watching Abi swim and thinking she was pulling herself along in the 2 foot deep water only to realize she'd gone under and we burst into panic mode, me yelling at my friend, "GET HER!!!!" because she was closer. Abi was just fine. A little shook up, but just fine. My heart was pounding. Other than that, it was the relaxing day I needed.

The kids and I chilling in the sun. Had a surreal moment where at first I didn't really have the energy or gumption to take them to the pool, then realized this is real life, and next summer, it won't be this easy. 

I did a little DIY repurposing. Took this old but loved dresser and made it into a kitchen island. We've been moving furniture around to make room for Chloe's crib to be downstairs. This used to house my coffee bar, but alas, it needed moved to make room for my Grandma's hutch, which had to be moved to make room for the TV, which had to be moved to make room for the rocking chair, which had to be moved to make room for the downstairs crib. I LOVE doing projects like this, so it was actually really relaxing 

and destressing to me. 

We played with Baby Chloe dolls. I taught Isaac how to swaddle his Baby Chloe doll. Abi took hers everywhere that afternoon. Including to a friend's bonfire, or barn flower as Abi called it. 

Enjoyed this more than I can say. Did we stay wayyyy too late? Yes. But it was my first, and probably only, bonfire of the season. I wanted it to last, even though I could tell our hosts were tired. They were sweet enough to overlook their tiredness and let us stay later. I soaked up the smell of the crackling wood. My children ate WAY too many marshmallows. I think Isaac had 6 s'mores. We laughed. We actually enjoyed ourselves and let our guard down to relax. I tried calling to check on Chloe while we were there, but somehow my ear dialed 911 instead. True story. I argued with the lady and insisted that I was simply trying to call and check on my daughter in the NICU. "Ok, well, somehow you dialed Riley County Emergency services, so if this is not an emergency, and you didn't mean to dial 911, then I need you to hang up." 

That I did. 

It was a normal day, for as normal as a summer day in this situation can be. I nearly broke down three times, thinking of everything. But I held it together and we got through the day as a family, complete with Alan cooking home made spaghetti for Isaac. 

At bedtime, we tucked the kids in. I laid out their clothes for church, and my clothes for church, in an attempt to be organized. I had made a goal for myself of getting up extra early and getting out the door to church extra early so I could swing through our beloved coffeeshop, Radina's on the Hill, and get a skinny raspberry mocha on my way to church. It was all planned out. Poptarts were already set out at the kid's seats at the table so they could have a nutritious and well balanced breakfast before church. I got my bible and journal and a pull up shoved in my tiny purse. I set out the kid's shoes. I placed my sunglasses and the keys on the newly hung shelf above the coat hooks by our front door, the shelf that was once part of my coffee bar and I made Alan hang in a new place for a new purpose just yesterday. I was so proud of finally having a place to put our keys and daily trinkets, that I even showed him. "Look hun! A place for the keys!!! They won't get lost anymore!!!"

I crawled into bed after consuming an 11pm snack of ibruprofen for allergy drainage throat, and fell asleep within seconds of my head hitting the pillow. I vaguely remember Alan kissing me goodbye before he left for church at 6am. Abi was crying, so she climbed into bed with me, in the same clothes she wore to the bonfire the night before because she was too tired to get changed. We both smelled of bonfire. And it was snuggle time and back to sleep. That was at 6:30am. A few more minutes of snuggles, then day #2 at home would begin. 

I finally woke up. I laid there for a moment looking around our room and thinking to myself that the size of our room at the Ronald McDonald house was the same size as our bedroom. I thought about the empty pack n play beside my bed, hoping it'd be filled soon with a baby and baby stuff, then wondering if it'd fit all her medical stuff. I watched the fan. I finally reached over for my phone to see what time it was, thinking it was 8am.

8:44am. 

Church starts at 9am!!!!!!

FLEW out of bed! Raced to the bathroom. Realized my hair didn't look half bad, so threw it back in a pony, washed my face, brushed my teeth, all the while hollering at my 2 year old to get out of bed and come go waters (code for potty). Slapped on the clothes I'd set out the night before. Smacked on a bit of deoderant. Stripped my daughter, placed her on the potty, put on a new pull up, listened to her scream as I tried to brush chlorine-watered-knotted-fire-smelling-marshmallow stuck-hair while she washed her hands. I thought for sure this would wake her sleeping brother, but alas, I was still yelling from the other room to get him to wake up. He was still asleep. How child?! Did you not hear the chaos?! GET UP!!!!

I sent both kids downstairs, told them to throw their shoes on and wait by the door, reassuring them Mommy would feed them a donut at church, knowing in my mind that there was ample chance the donuts were by now gone. 

I remembered I smelled like fire and quickly doused myself in Bath and Body Works coconut body spray. I now officially smelled like toasted coconut. Great for coconut cream pie. Not great for church. 

We raced to the door, I reached for the keys, but they weren't there. 

NO KEYS.

9:04am

Church had already started, but I could still make it. I instructed my children to look through the shoe tote below to find the keys, thinking for sure they just dropped. I texted my worship leader husband, knowing full well he was probably singing by now, "Did you take the keys?!" Like he'd respond (this I knew when I sent it, but it was a last ditch effort). I was adamant to get to church one way or another. We've only been back one Sunday in 12 weeks. I needed the morning worship. I needed familiar. I needed normal for one more day. 

I rushed the kids out the garage door, realizing I couldn't lock the front door, and said we're walking, let's go. Church is about a 1.5miles away. It'd take a normal adult 31 minutes. I only know this because I google mapped it just now. My children are 2.75yr and 4.6yr old. They'd never make it. And my daughter has a blister on her foot. And my children didn't have breakfast. And I'm wearing a dress and flip flops. What was I thinking??? We turned around, a half block from home, and walked back, all three of us depressed because we really wanted to go to church. Came inside and found the poptarts. Cracked open a Diet Pepsi for my breakfast because we are out of creamer. What good is coffee if it's black? I shook the Half and Half from last week, thinking it'd still be ok, only to get it all over because the cap wasn't on tight. Diet Pepsi it was. 

I yelled at my children for fighting over the last poptart. I lost it. I was fuming by this point. It was obviously the WRONG attitude. So things didn't go the way I thought. Again. Thus is life. 

By now Alan called and simply said, after a deep sigh, "I'm sorry, hun." I could tell he felt bad. It was a simple mistake. Sadly I wasn't the most forgiving wife, and told him I required Chipotle for the mistake and that he'd be taking the kids to Sunday evening church by himself so I can go for a very long walk tonight. 

So instead of church, we're laying low at home right now. My children are playing piano, watching Tinkerbell, playing with trains, and yanking the baby Chloe doll up by her oxygen tube. 

This is life. Real life. One. Day. At. A. Time.