Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing—Benjamin Franklin

Happy birthday to me!

Well, this birthday was an interesting one all told. We originally planned on heading to DC for a fun-filled day with my sister and her family, but then had to cancel do to a surprise storm that we're attributing to divine intervention. So, instead I woke up to this: 
An elbow heart attack made by my oh so funny husband (and yes, those little black and white ones in between the hearts are indeed elbows). Let me see how succinctly I can explain why this is the funniest thing he could have done... There was a time not too far back that my elbow was having weird pains. As I was complaining to Bryce, he decided that it must be a heart attack, to which I replied, "Yeah... An ELBOW heart attack!" And being tired and ridiculous like we tend to be, this made us crack up and every fake/overly dramatic bodily complaint from that point forward became and "elbow-whatever." Ex: elbow stomach ache, elbow brain tumor, etc. Thus waking up to an elbow heart attack on my door was pretty much the best way to start my day. 
Then, that same wonderful husband brought me my Little and put on a show for us to watch in bed while he made a fantastic french toast breakfast for us to consume while still in bed. Then, he let us kidnap him to do whatever we wanted all day. Which turned out was just hanging out and doing a few errands. That is where we discovered this little gem to the left. Yes, I acknowledge that I am obsessed, but really... Pirate ice cubes? Amazing. It was a fantastic day. 
Up until around 5:00pm that is. Little was falling asleep weirdly early on his daddy's lap when suddenly Bryce turns to me and says, "Honey, he is burning up." I think he's being overly dramatic until I put my hand on the little man and it turns out his head feels like I just pulled it out of the oven. Unfortunate. Within a half hour his temperature was 103.7 and climbing and he was getting increasingly lethargic. Come to find out, Little is in the small percentage of kids who are lucky enough to get Roseola twice. I can handle sick days when he just has the gucks, but when he acts half dead... no good. Between baths and popsicles and medicine, we finally got his temperature down, but it was definitely a long night. Scratch that... a long couple of days. The poor chap is tired, but back to acting like himself with only a bit of groggy moodiness to show for it. Hallelujah! 
And to make matters worse, the sister we were supposed to hang out with had some pretty serious catastrophes of her own. We're pretty sure the storm was Heavenly Father's way of looking out for us and making sure everything worked out as well as it could despite all the semi-disasters. Man alive! I am more grateful than I can say that He watches over us!


hosander said...

I'm glad you had a good birthday, despite the illness. But I have to go now, I have the elbow death.

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