So, we had another fire maybe a mile from our house.
The order was reversed from what we've become used to. Normally, fire happens, ash falls on power lines, power goes out. In this case, power line fell, power went out, downed power line caused fire. I don't know what brought the power line down.
I think I've lost count the number of times I've had to feed Logan IN THE DARK, WHEN THERE WAS A FIRE SOMEWHERE NEARBY. And it was strangely hot again, even though it's January. [The Gap Fire was in July. The combination of smoke outside and an unbearably hot house from the heat of the day, and no power to even run fans, was unbearable. The Tea House Fire was in early December, I think, and didn't actually affect us, but of course made us really nervous. And it managed to destroy alot of people's houses. :( ]
Anyway, I'm becoming old hand at feeding Logan and changing Logan in a blackout.
Man, the news sucked for this one. I tried various news channels on the radio, but couldn't get anything about the current power outage or fire. Didn't know if we might have to evacuate, or what the heck was going on. Sat there, changing radio channels, squinting in the dim light of candles and a flashlight as I tried to get the spoon into Logan's mouth.
My husband and I both have headlamps for hiking at night. They have become very useful during these fire-blackouts. My husband, after noting how we've had to feed Logan way too many times during blackouts, that Logan deserved his own headlamp now.
We had a load of work clothes in the dryer, sopping wet. The blackout lasted just long enough for me to think I might need to hang a clothesline in front of the fireplace. But it was back on at 9:30pm in our area (8:30pm across the highway from us)... 2 hours after it had gone off.
So I'm hurriedly getting loads of laundry done. I feel like I'm 2 hours behind on a Sunday night. :P
Just glad I didn't have to bathe Logan by flashlight. :P
Ok, goodnight everyone. Be safe. Godspeed.
Oh, almost forgot. Nothing like a blackout to make you take all your toys and ensure they are in their chargers once the power is back on. ;)
Monday, January 19, 2009
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Lessons in Love
My son is sick. And I think I've caught it.
Last week he started having a cough, then a runny nose, then post nasal drip I think. [You try looking into the throat of a stubborn, strong, uncooperative 13 month old. I figure post-nasal drip was involved as he would sniffle while sleeping and then have a coughing fit that sounded to me like some of the snot went down his throat.]
Sunday night he puked up the little bit of formula he was able to drink. Monday morning, I got 4 ounces of formula into the little guy, and he promptly puked that up at the doctor's office. So, the rest of Monday, and all of Tuesday, the poor little guy lived on nothing but Pedialyte.
Monday night he could not get comfortable when I tried to rock him to sleep. He was coughing, dry-heaving, and basically very miserable. He would start to get comfortable, fall asleep for maybe 5 minutes, and then a coughing fit would wake him up. On top of that, with no food in his stomach and trying to drink fluid with a clogged nose, he had swallowed alot of air and was having gas pains which would also wake him up.
If I tried to put him down in his crib when asleep, he would wake up and cry. If I tried to do it when awake, after having had a wrestling match with him in my arms, obviously totally uncomfortable there due to gas pains, he would cry. Either way, he'd want to be picked back up.
I tried explaining to him that there was just no way that I was going to be as comfortable for him as a bed, but all he knew was he felt like crap, was often in pain, and wanted to be held. Even if that meant he was being held in my arms while he flung himself all over the place, as if attempting to get me to drop him.
I started getting angry. Not at him, but at God, and at the virus. I mean he was just a little kid, and he was suffering so much. And the times he got to sleep, he would be asleep for about 3 to 10 minutes, and then wake up. It started to feel like I was being teased! After maybe the 5th time, I was all like, "ah, come on!!!" Again, I wasn't mad at Logan but at the bug that was doing this to him. Or at God, I guess.
I failed the Job test.
Good thing God is forgiving.
I was praying that Logan would get better and be able to sleep. At first it was for his sake, but as I got more and more exhausted, it started selfishly being more for my sake. :P Some mother I am.
Anyway...
Either Tuesday or just today the following hit me: this was nothing. Absolutely nothing. I knew a little 3 year old girl named Katie who has liver cancer, and suffers terribly. I knew that her Sister, Parents, and the rest of her family got very little sleep on the bad nights. And that the bad nights were numerous, due to the illness and the chemo. And, like me, they still had to work in the mornning. Unlike me, they couldn't take days off if they weren't feeling well or felt too tired... like I took Tuesday off as I was exhausted and coming down with Logan's bug. They need all the money they can get to pay for Katie's treatment. I mean, there's no way in hell that if there's a treatment that could save her, that they were going to avoid it because of their budget.
So, I'm a moron. I'm fighting off a bug, Logan is fighting off a bug. But Logan doesn't have cancer, and I can afford to take a day off if I need to... although not too many days off, as Logan and I have both been sick on and off all December. [Ah, December and winter in general: 'tis the season to be sneezing.]
But anyway, this has been a lesson in love. A lesson in humility. A lesson in counting my blessings. A lesson in not feeling so sorry for myself.
Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go cough up a lung.
Oh, I forgot to add one thing. Realizing the mercilessness of the bug Logan was fighting, I started wishing there was some way I could cause it pain. Some way I could find it, it's parents, it's siblings, it's children, and it's friends and other family, and kill them all slowly... with immense pain.
I started to fantasize that once I got to the vomiting stage, maybe I could take the vomit and heat it up over the stove to painfully torture and kill any of the virus that I puked up. Yes, I was starting to get a, uhm, little strange.
Feeling helpless does weird things to you sometimes.
Last week he started having a cough, then a runny nose, then post nasal drip I think. [You try looking into the throat of a stubborn, strong, uncooperative 13 month old. I figure post-nasal drip was involved as he would sniffle while sleeping and then have a coughing fit that sounded to me like some of the snot went down his throat.]
Sunday night he puked up the little bit of formula he was able to drink. Monday morning, I got 4 ounces of formula into the little guy, and he promptly puked that up at the doctor's office. So, the rest of Monday, and all of Tuesday, the poor little guy lived on nothing but Pedialyte.
Monday night he could not get comfortable when I tried to rock him to sleep. He was coughing, dry-heaving, and basically very miserable. He would start to get comfortable, fall asleep for maybe 5 minutes, and then a coughing fit would wake him up. On top of that, with no food in his stomach and trying to drink fluid with a clogged nose, he had swallowed alot of air and was having gas pains which would also wake him up.
If I tried to put him down in his crib when asleep, he would wake up and cry. If I tried to do it when awake, after having had a wrestling match with him in my arms, obviously totally uncomfortable there due to gas pains, he would cry. Either way, he'd want to be picked back up.
I tried explaining to him that there was just no way that I was going to be as comfortable for him as a bed, but all he knew was he felt like crap, was often in pain, and wanted to be held. Even if that meant he was being held in my arms while he flung himself all over the place, as if attempting to get me to drop him.
I started getting angry. Not at him, but at God, and at the virus. I mean he was just a little kid, and he was suffering so much. And the times he got to sleep, he would be asleep for about 3 to 10 minutes, and then wake up. It started to feel like I was being teased! After maybe the 5th time, I was all like, "ah, come on!!!" Again, I wasn't mad at Logan but at the bug that was doing this to him. Or at God, I guess.
I failed the Job test.
Good thing God is forgiving.
I was praying that Logan would get better and be able to sleep. At first it was for his sake, but as I got more and more exhausted, it started selfishly being more for my sake. :P Some mother I am.
Anyway...
Either Tuesday or just today the following hit me: this was nothing. Absolutely nothing. I knew a little 3 year old girl named Katie who has liver cancer, and suffers terribly. I knew that her Sister, Parents, and the rest of her family got very little sleep on the bad nights. And that the bad nights were numerous, due to the illness and the chemo. And, like me, they still had to work in the mornning. Unlike me, they couldn't take days off if they weren't feeling well or felt too tired... like I took Tuesday off as I was exhausted and coming down with Logan's bug. They need all the money they can get to pay for Katie's treatment. I mean, there's no way in hell that if there's a treatment that could save her, that they were going to avoid it because of their budget.
So, I'm a moron. I'm fighting off a bug, Logan is fighting off a bug. But Logan doesn't have cancer, and I can afford to take a day off if I need to... although not too many days off, as Logan and I have both been sick on and off all December. [Ah, December and winter in general: 'tis the season to be sneezing.]
But anyway, this has been a lesson in love. A lesson in humility. A lesson in counting my blessings. A lesson in not feeling so sorry for myself.
Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go cough up a lung.
Oh, I forgot to add one thing. Realizing the mercilessness of the bug Logan was fighting, I started wishing there was some way I could cause it pain. Some way I could find it, it's parents, it's siblings, it's children, and it's friends and other family, and kill them all slowly... with immense pain.
I started to fantasize that once I got to the vomiting stage, maybe I could take the vomit and heat it up over the stove to painfully torture and kill any of the virus that I puked up. Yes, I was starting to get a, uhm, little strange.
Feeling helpless does weird things to you sometimes.
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