A (typically hectic, unusually manic) Day in the Life

Here’s the text I sent Des on Monday night at 7:54 PM when he was presumably dodging fly balls as the go-to pitcher and assistant coach for Liam’s first grade baseball team:

“Macmac barfed. Decker barfed. Quiche has mold. Help!!! BTW, don’t think mold & barfing are related. Think barf & strep are related & quiche is just bad luck!”

For those of you interested the events that preceded and followed, here’s a rundown of Monday, May 2nd in the Lyons Den:

5:57 Wake up. Finish blog post. Unload dishwasher. Make lunch. Pack snacks. Start laundry.

7:00 Drag Liam from bed, make breakfast, send him off on bus.

7:30 Moaning from triplets room prompts me to look inside. Discover MacMac (aka Cormac) in a feverish fit with green snot pouring from his nose. Literally pouring. Temp is 101.9

7:40 Debate w/ Des re: need to take MacMac to doctor. Des says no, I say yes. I win.

7:45 Shower, dress, change MacMac, wake Ciara, pack lunch and bag for work.

8:15 To the pediatrician we go – thank goodness for the walk-in hour!

8:45 Home we go – that walk-in hour sucks! Waiting room is overflowing with pink-eye, allergies, stomach bugs and generally sick kids. We make an appointment to return at 11:30.

9:00 Dump MacMac at home, head to work.

11:15 A bundle of nerves and stress, I leave my piled-high desk to retrieve my boy and return to doctor.

11:45 Discover MacMac has strep. Panic sets in. How long ‘til the rest of them fall?!

12:00 Quick trip to CVS to fill prescription.

12:45 Return to office, dig in to sandwich and emails that await. Work, work, work.

5:45 Home sweet home. Feverish boy slumbers on couch while other kids run wild and Des and Liam take off for baseball.

5:50 Closer look at couch reveals that feverish boy on couch is not MacMac. It’s Declan. Sh*t!!

6:00 Dinner is served. “Egg pie” (aka quiche!) and broccoli, typically a crowd pleaser is unanimously dismissed with a chorus of “no like it”

6:30 Backyardigans video provides 23 minutes of kid-entertainment and mom-relief. I shed my work clothes, locate thermometer and put on Florence Nightingale uniform. Ok, not really. 

 

7:00  Mac and Declan have rising fevers.  I put on their PJs and pop them in their cribs.  A suspicious gurgling precedes Mac's massive vomit. Ciara, playing the role of physician’s assistant, continually chimes in “it’s really bad Mom. REALLY bad” while Declan moans from crib and Kevin jumps up and down singing “MacMac throw up! MacMac throw up!”

7:30 Mac is changed, crib is changed, Declan has been given Tylenol, MacMac has had his antibiotic and a solid dose of Advil to keep the fever at bay. Ciara is brushing her teeth. The four kids I have at home are now ready for bed.  I think the worse is behind me.

7:45 Nope. The worst is still coming. As I discover mold on the quiche Des and I were going to have for dinner, there is a blood curdling scream from upstairs followed by Ciara’s call, “MOM! Come quick! It’s REALLY bad!!!”  Sound familiar?

7:46 Declan is covered in barf. His crib is covered in barf. I am covered in barf. Kevin’s enthusiasm for his brother’s barf has worn off; Cormac has nodded off.

7:54 Text to Des as per above. I stink like vomit, we have no dinner (though I’m no longer hungry!), there are piles of laundry to be done, work to catch up on and for the record, I’m exhausted, having only had about 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep the night before thanks to an itchy dog, a big boy with bad dreams, la ittle girl who woke us to tell us she went to the potty and a rotation of triplets with lost blankies, high fevers and general malaise!

Suffice it to say that in the hours that followed, there was more vomit, alternating doses of meds to keep MacMac and Declan’s fever at bay and less consecutive sleep than the night before. When the sun rose, I rose with it to get in a run. And boy, am I ever glad I did because today might as well have been Groundhog Day. Just hit the repeat button (or reread button?!) and you’ll know what my day was like. Even the pediatrician feigned surprise when I appeared once again at 11:30 with a little fella red with fever and ripe with strep. When I mentioned that I’d probably see her again tomorrow with my third little guy, she laughed and said she has the day off. Which leaves me to wonder… when will I get a day off? As MacMac has been known to say -- albeit under very different circumstances, as in when asked to apologize for biting his brother – “Not today!”