Gratitude Friday...

Today, I am grateful my children are...

...still alive.

So the afternoon started off pretty easily.  

But we had to go on a hunting expedition for Aubrey Kate's juice cup.  Because despite the fact I had instructed her bring her backpack inside from the car, she hadn't.  

Of course.

I knew it was there.  But I know how to bring my backpack in from the car.  She needs to learn.  Therefore, we go through the process of searching for it.  

Where did you have it last?  Did you put it in your backpack after lunch?  Did you bring it in from the car?

YOU DIDN'T?

(shock)

Maybe you should have brought it in when I asked you to, huh?

Yeah.

Okay, let's go to the car.

But see, here's the problem with the car.  RHYS LOVES IT.

He can climb in now so he does and then he thinks it is just super-duper fun to play in there.  

Ask me how much I love it.  Go ahead.

Thus, while I was attempting to drag Rhys kicking and screaming out of the car, AK had retrieved the lost backpack and was standing in the doorway between the garage and the house.

I watched IN HORROR as a wasp whipped right into the house.

Once we got inside, I searched in all the usual places (where the light hits) but no wasp.

In the meantime, we started getting ready to head to the park.  It was a gorgeous day here.  Almost 80 and sunny.  While Aubrey Kate was putting on her socks and shoes, the elusive wasp appeared.

AND STUNG MY LITTLE GIRL.

I died.  

Hurry, hurry, hurry...google "wasp sting"....crying, crying, crying..."ice, benadryl, watch for reaction"....crying, crying, crying...

AND MEANWHILE, 

Rhys has moved a kitchen chair over to the counter and it playing with whatever is up there.  I hear that happening but am largely distracted by the fear my daughter might be allergic to wasp stings.

WHY DO WE NOT HAVE AN EMERGENCY EPI-PEN????

Then I hear what sounds like rice hitting the floor.

And now you have my attention.

I run over and find my allergy medication all.over.the.place.

Apparently, APPARENTLY, Target doesn't fill all their medications in childproof bottles.

Well.  Sure.

I dug the remainder of Lord-only-knows-how-many pills out of Rhys' mouth.

Then I got down to the business of counting pills.  

For a moment, I thought he'd eaten two but found one little pill all alone underneath a towel.  

I closed my "wasp sting" google search and opened "xyzal" google search.  I skimmed all WebMD had to offer and found nothing too scary.  

But then I looked over at my gorgeous little man and thought, CPS is not gonna care one bit about my  WebMD reading if something happens.  

More importantly, Chris was not gonna care.

So I called Poison Control.  For the first time in my life.

Lord, let it be the last.

Good news, based on his weight, age and the fact he only ate one pill, he's in the clear.  Maybe a little dry mouth.  

Sheesh.

About forty-five minutes later, after AK had asked for the 284th time for daddy, we loaded up and headed to school.  

The seven minute trip was just enough time for Rhys to have a blow-out diaper.  

Cause WHY NOT????

We came home in our two vehicle caravan.  The kids went to the front yard to check out the beauty of nature.  All 200 square feet of it.  

In the blink of an eye, Rhys took off.  Clear into the street.

AND AN ONCOMING CAR.

I ran after him and put my arm in the air.  

You know, the arm you fling out over the passenger seat to protect your purse from flying forward when you have to stop quickly.  

Yeah, that arm.

Obviously, not strong enough to stop a car.

Chris was right behind me with his arms in the air too.

Thankfully, the driver was watching and stopped.  

I scooped him up and ran into the house.  

Where I totally lost it.  UGLY CRY.

Chris came in and took Rhys while I ran to cry in the peace of the bathroom.  

Our bedtime gratitude list:

Aubrey Kate grateful for Momma.  (Awwwww....)

Momma grateful Pumpkin is not allergic to wasp stings.

Daddy grateful Rhys was not killed by a car.

Word.

I feel like that's enough for today.  We're good here.  

Now for sleeping off the ugly cry headache.