Today is my wife’s birthday.

I met her when she was just 21 years old. (I was just about to turn 23.) Thinking back, and looking at old pictures of her, she looked so very young. In her twenties, she looked like a teenager. She was petite, sweet, and cute, then; Now she’s petite, sweet, and freakin’ hot. She wears maturity well. So very well. Hubba, hubba.

We’re one of those couples like you see on TV sitcoms: dorky guy with a hot wife.

For a mother of two rambunctious boys, with all the whirlwind of activity and craziness that goes with them, she’s managed to not only hold herself together well, she’s actually gotten better through it all. She’s a great mother.

She’s a great wife, too. She’s a great cook. She’s a great organizer. She’s. . . just a great everything. I’m lucky, proud, and blessed to have her as my wife.

And if she keeps getting better with age from here on, as she has from 21 to now, good lord, she’ll be the pinnacle of God’s creations before she gets grandchildren.

Bullgrit

I mentioned on Wednesday how our boys were up sick early Wednesday morning. Well, they both stayed sick all day Wednesday. Thursday, they were still pathetic with fever, just sleeping all day. Friday, Calfgirt5 was better, but Calfgrit9 was still out of it. He was maintaining a 102-104 fever, lowering occasionally, with Motrin, to around 100.

Friday, he was taken to the pediatrician. They tested him, but he had no flu or strep. Because he wasn’t eating or drinking much [at all], the doctor feared he was becoming dehydrated. She said if he didn’t “round the corner” by Saturday, to take him to the hospital children’s emergency department so they could set him up with fluids by IV.

Saturday morning, CG9 was no better. He still had a 103 temperature, and still didn’t want to eat or drink anything — he just wanted to be left alone to sleep. We called his doc again, and she directed us to take him to the hospital.

We dropped his little brother off with their grandmother, and we headed for the main county hospital. We arrived at about 11:00, and handled the paperwork, went through triage, and then waited with a pager (like at a restaurant). While waiting in the waiting room, we managed to get him to eat a couple of crackers and take a few sips of water, but he was just lethargic. He did laugh a few times at watching Ice Age on the TV mounted overhead. (This was the children’s emergency department.)

Eventually we got called back to the rooms. The children’s emergency department is very different than the normal, adult version. With all the colors, shapes, and pictures, it looked more like an elementary school (with lots of computers and strange gizmos all around).

The nurses and doctor got us all settled in, and got CG9 set up with an IV drip — he was very brave about it all. (Although having the TV in the room tuned to Cartoon Network helped keep him distracted like a zombie staring at a brain in a jar.) We were going to be there for a while. And we were.

The IV drip finished after 3:30, and CG9 was discharged at about 4:00. We’d been at the hospital for five hours, total. Not exactly how one wants to spend a Saturday.

But after the IV fluids were in his system, CG9 said he wanted a hot dog. Great! He hadn’t eaten anything for three and a half days. We gave him a hot dog.

The rest of Saturday, and all day Sunday, per the doctor’s orders, we kept him drinking water and Gatorade to keep him fully hydrated. His fever went away, his energy came back, and he’ll be going to school this morning. His parents are happy to have him well, again. (And are happy to get him out of the house, back in school, for a few hours each day, again.)

Bullgrit

I was talking to a friend about cell phones, and he was telling me about how he was getting a new phone, and was now going to get Internet access with his wireless service. He was totally sold on how useful it would be to have Internet access on his phone, and he was trying to convince me of the wisdom. I had Internet access on my cell phone for several months a couple of years ago, and after the initial novelty wore off, (within a month), I had no use for it.

The things I want and need the Web for are things I don’t want to have to look at on a small cell phone screen. Besides, 90% of my work day is spent in front of a computer, where I have Internet access, and I can check something any moment I want. The only times I don’t have relatively immediate access are times when I shouldn’t be surfing the Web anyway, like while driving, playing with my boys, and sleeping.

But this friend was convinced and excited about getting ‘Net access on his new phone:

“For instance,” he said, “I was in the library yesterday, and I couldn’t think of the author of a book series. It would have been great to have Internet on my phone, then. I could just flip open my phone, surf the Web, and . . .”

He stopped talking when I started laughing. I said, “You need Internet access on your phone so you can look up an author of a book, while at the library?”

He looked at me, annoyed. “That’s. . .”

“At the library?” I held in the guffaw.

Bullgrit

Last night at midnight, Calfgrit5 woke up and hurried to the bathroom. Unfortunately, he lost his stomach contents before reaching the toilet bowl, or even the tiled bathroom floor. The hallway carpet caught most of it, with only a trail leading into the bathroom. We joined him in the bathroom to help him. We traded off soothing him and cleaning up the mess.

We were up with the little guy for over an hour, but eventually we got him back in his bed, with a towel under him and a wastebasket beside him. He got up another couple of times before finally falling to sleep around 2:00 a.m. The poor little guy was pathetic.

We eventually fell back to sleep ourselves. But then at 4:00 a.m., Calfgrit9 came into our room saying he felt sick. He then ran to our bathroom and asploded! We jumped up and ran to him.

We both pulled up short, shocked by the mess. Oh. My. God. I could only see his back as he stood leaning over the toilet. Judging from the mess on the floor, on the toilet, and on the walls around, I expected the front of his body to be opened like some slimy alien had burst from his chest. (I actually had the thought cross my mind: take a picture, ’cause no one will believe this story.)

Once finished vomiting, we got him to step into the shower. While he got washed down, and his clothes taken to the washer, I commenced cleaning the room.

I had to turn on the overhead fan to pull the stench out. I almost threw up from the sight and smell. After thoroughly cleaning the room, I had to get in the shower, myself. My pajamas and t-shirt were taken to the washer, too, but they could be burned for all I care to have them back.

CG9 went to bed easier than his little brother did after his episode. I really hope they both sleep plenty long this morning. I won’t be going to work tomorrow today. If we’re lucky, we’ll be sleeping late. That’s all I’m hoping for right now, as I expect the day to be horrible and disgusting.

I’m pretty much wide awake, now, at 5:00 a.m. Dammit.

Bullgrit