Whew.

My poor husband had his wisdom teeth pulled out today. Not so much fun. My day, in a nutshell:

6:30 am - Daniel is up saying "Pooo Pooo" so I ask him if he pooped. He says "nooooo". I bring him into bed to try and convince him to sleep some more.

7:00 am - Tickle Daniel to try and get him to wake up happy. It works, and Jake is also up. I turn on the TV, deliver breakfast, and jump in the shower. The shower, while warm on the inside, is receiving cold drafts from the outside because the door must never close while I am in the shower.

7:30 am - Wake up hubby, and remind him to take his meds while he can. Dress both boys and pack up their backpack for their morning with Grandma.

8:00 am - Grandma arrives, and we depart. We have to go to the hospital to get blood stuff done so the patient doesn't bleed too much.

8:40 am - Arrive at hospital, get blood stuff done, and pester my husband. I have a cafe mocha with whipped cream and chocolate drizzled on top, and he can have nothing. Not even water. I also tell him that his needle will be administered either through the temple, or the ear, but I can't remember which. Husband gets steadily angrier. I am going to be waiting on him for the next few days, so I'm getting my digs in while I can.

9:45 am- Leave hospital, and head to the surgicentre. More pestering in the waiting room, mostly consisting of the scenarios which could play out once he was unconscious.

10:15 am - It's go time. Time for some uninterrupted reading of waiting room materials. No little boys underfoot, no taking slapshots to the head, and no looking at the picture album a hundred times.

11:00 am - The magazines suck. I already read the Chatelaine, and some fashion magazine, and all that is left is Macleans. I've played poker on my phone, checked stuff, and I am done.

12:30 pm - He is done, hooray!! I go to get him, and he is messed up. I've never seen him like this, and it is pretty funny. He asks me a few times how long he was in there, and I tell him two hours. "TWO hours!!! It felt like five minutes!!" He has some pink paper sheet with him, and he kept asking "what the f*ck is this?? Where did I get this??" And then since I have the worst sense of direction ever, he tried to tell me how to get out of there. Fun.

1:00 pm - We are home, and he is much better. Sore and miserable, but not high as a kite anymore. I call Grandma, and the boys are on route.

1:45 pm - The boys are home. I realize that the husband is going to need some sustenance soon, so I pack up the kids (after a brief argument with Jake over the amount of items I had to buy) and take them to get a few things, namely smoothie supplies and soup.

2:30 pm - Home and the boys were surprisingly good. Find blender, half of which was under our bed (it's been a long time since I made a smoothie) and realize that the gasket is gone. Leave Jake home and take Danny to walmart to buy a new freakin' blender.

2:45 pm - This kid is too heavy to drag through walmart, and now the cheapest blender that they have in stock is $45. WTH? I suck it up and buy it because I'll be damned if I am going anywhere else.

3:00 pm - Home to make the damned smoothies. Of course, there is just enough for the husband and the boys, and that is it. Figures.

4:00 pm - Jake begs and pleads to watch the hockey skills dvd that came with the cereal that we bought at the store. He got it out of the box while we were blender buying so I put it on. After the dvd he has a fit because he wants to play hockey outside five minutes before dinnertime, and bends his new frames (that we had to pay to have replaced less than two weeks ago) purely out of spite. I tell him that he will now be going to bed right after dinner, which does not help his attitude at all.

5:00 pm - Leftover spaghetti is served.

5:45 pm - Jake is in bed. One down, one to go. Daniel must sense that his mommy is on the edge, because he submits willingly to both bath, and bedtime.

7:00 pm - Ahhhhhh. Wine time.

What is this kid's problem??

So Jake went off to work this morning, and I used the time to shop with one tyrant instead of two. Lately Danny has been going through a weird phase which makes it impossible to do anything with him. He doesn't want to be carried, he wants to be down. Ok, fine. I put him down, and then he refuses to walk. I've tried it all, the bye bye and the walk away, the stern voice, the walk or I'll carry you, and nothing works. He crouches and whines.

I complained to my hubby about it, and asked if there is a such a thing as a child sized cattle prod. A couple little zaps and I'm willing to bet he'd be shopping like K-Fed after a child support payment. Who am I kidding, I can't even force the kid to sit in a stroller because I know how much he hates it. Unless he has enough snacks to make the stroller a rolling buffet, he wants no part of it.

The face of defiance:

And Danny too....

I can't talk about one without talking about the other. Jake and Daniel are like night and day. Jake is picky, and Daniel will eat almost anything. Jake talked my head off by the time he was Danny's age, and while Daniel makes a lot of noise, he doesn't have too many words. He does say Spongebob though, but it comes out like this "Spaabaaaa". And he has mastered the use of the word no. I think it's his favorite. People he doesn't know will look at him, and he says no. A cashier will ask him if he is out shopping with his mom, and he says no. I ask him if Daddy is nice, and he says no. He'll be pretend cooking with all my pots in the kitchen, I'll ask him for a bite, and he says no.

He has just recently learned the art of the all better kiss. He'll whack Jake with a plastic golf club, and within the same second, lean in for a kiss. He will bash his toe, and then kiss himself better. If I complain about something hurting, he strokes my face and says "Niiiiii" for nice. I can't believe he is almost two already. There is nothing I love more than watching my little men grow up and turn into their own unique little people, with their weird little quirks. It almost makes me want just one more. But I don't think I could survive pregnancy, birth, and the first four months.

The Hospital

So last week was interesting. We ended up taking a trip to the new Children's Hospital because Jake was having some breathing issues. I noticed it during the day, but thought that it was dramatics due to a cold. When he was still breathing strangely while he was sleeping, I forced my wonderful husband to call the nurse to see what she thought. I knew when his note taking tapered off that we were hospital bound.

So, 10:00 at night, we wake Jake up and put him in the car. I had been slacking on laundry, so Jake is wearing a blue fleece button up jammie shirt with snowmen on it, and gray fitted jammie pants with green wrenches on them, both a little on the small side. Nice, but I am worried now, and not about to change him, especially after the nurse asks us to bring a cell phone and call an ambulance if his breathing gets worse.

We are in the car, and driving to the hospital. Jake is like a new man. I can't remember the last time he went for a car ride after dark, and judging from his excitement, I don't think he can either. We passed by a pawn shop that had giant dollar signs in the window made from Christmas lights, and Jake nearly shat himself. "Look Mommy!!! It's the dollar store!! They have hundreds of dollars, and millions of dollars!! I want to go there!"

He is winding himself up more and more, and is bouncing off the walls by the time we get into emergency. We talked him out of a fit when he thought that he was going to have to go in a wheelchair. I thought that they were going to kick us out of there. But no, we got to wait in the waiting room. And wait. And wait. By which time Jake was expressing his frustration by declaring, quite loudly that it was "a big waste of time". I'm sure that everyone else in the room was impressed with that. If looks could kill.

Eventually, we got admitted. The new hospital has individual rooms, which was a big change from the old one, where it was a giant room with beds separated by curtains. Personally, I am big on eavesdropping, especially in a hospital. It combats boredom, and you get to hear gems like "Exactly how much pot did you smoke??" which I overheard at the old children's hospital. Yes, children's hospital. Anyhoo, we are in our new private room, complete with TV. The nurse comes in, the doctor comes in, and the respiratory therapist comes in, and they conclude that Jake is having asthma like symptoms. They are going to give him breathing treatments, but he isn't going anywhere until his breathing has improved substantially.

Hubby and I decide that one of us will go after the first treatment is administered, to relieve my brother in law who came to sit with sleeping Danny. Jake wants Daddy to stay. Daddy is less than impressed, because by this time it is 12:30 am, and the temperature in the private room is 25 degrees (77 degrees F) and there is no way to turn it down. I go home, fall asleep on the couch, and get the call to pick them up at 3:30 am. Hubby told me all about what I missed whilst we were driving back home. Jake insisted on watching the weather channel (this kid is obsessed with the weather, like you would not believe) for two hours. Couple the weather channel with the heat in the room, and the two rock hard plastic chairs beside the bed, and I was pretty darn happy that I got to go home. Jake didn't sleep a wink, and wasn't all that impressed when we made him go straight to bed.

He is doing fine now, no breathing issues at all. I think it was the nasty cold that brought it out, but I will be keeping a puffer at hand just in case it ever happens again.