It's Been a Hard Day's Night

Presley's been a little under the weather this past week and that all came to a head at 3am Friday morning. She woke up screaming and coughing and basically gasping for air. I ran down stairs to check her temperature which was 103.2.

I woke the rest of the fam up and we took a delightful little trip to the Lockney ER. When we got there her pulse ox. levels were at 96 (they should be 98 at the min.) and her temp was still holding strong at 103. They gave her a shot of steroids to open her lungs. It was her first shot ever, poor baby. :( They also gave her an oral steroid and set us up in a room w/a vaporizer. We stayed in there for about an hour and then they sent us home.

By the time we got home (6:30ish) she was sounding pretty bad so Kevin set up two vaporizers in the guest bedroom and Presley and I hung out in there for a few hours while the men folk took a nap.

I ended up taking her to PRHC because I was really not pleased w/the lack of diagnosis/medicine given to us in Lockney. The NP at PRHC gave her a breathing treatment and sent us home with 2 oral steroids, an antibiotic (she's got an ear infection too), and a heavy duty decongestant.

After spending 2 hours at Wal-Mart waiting for her medicine, we finally made it back home. My dear friend Liza picked up Caedmon and braved the park all alone with a 7 year old, two 5 year olds, a 3 year old and an 18 month old. She's my hero.

So finally at 3pm, after being awake for 12 hours, I took a nap...for an hour.

Everything after that is a blur. Having a kid on steroids sucks. I should know, I've had my fair share. There is no sleep, there is no down time, there isn't even any smiling. My poor kid is wired, exhausted, and miserable. Her eyes are dilated, her cheeks are red, and she's shaking like a crack addict who needs a fix.

Pray for her. And us.

Vogue

The other day Miss Priss got called to be the model for the latest WBU Alumni wear. She looked adorable, as always, so I thought I'd share one of the photos.

Cake or Death? Death please. No! I meant Cake!

You'd think that typing out a few sentences on my blog every few days wouldn't be beyond my realm of capabilities, but apparently you'd be wrong. You'd also think, do to my lack of posting, that I'm not on the computer much and you'd also be wrong. Her majesty has decided that the only appropriate nap time routine is for me to bounce her on my shoulder while sitting at the desk. I can't see how that could possibly be comfortable, but whatver. If she's sleeping, I'm happy.

I digress, all this extra computer time has, sadly, not resulted in anymore blog posting than usual. Mainly because I only have one free hand during the duration of the nap. I don't like typing one handed.

So, yes. When I lack a witty story to impart it becomes glaringly obvious that I'm not much of a writer, no?

And now for an open letter to Mr. Olan Mills photo dude.

Mr. Olan Mills Photo Dude,

I realize it's your job to sell me pictures. And I realize that you don't make any money off of me when I just bring my family in to get a free church directory photo taken. But, can I be honest with you Mr. Olan Mills Photo Dude? You're pictures? They're not so good. My family doesn't look attractive lined up in a row in front of a blue marbled background with fake smiles plastered on their faces. I wish we did, but we don't. Ok, now I've lied to you, I don't wish we did. And also, Mr. Olan Mills Photo Dude, it's ok if Presley wants to put her fingers in her mouth when you take the picture. She's a baby, that's what she does. It's actually considered a good thing to capture her personality in the photo. It's not, however, considered a good thing when she's screaming her head off because you keep pulling her fingers out of her mouth in attempts to make us look like the Cleavers. Just a friendly tip. I mean, I'm not a photographer or anything. :)

In closing, I'd like to apologize for cutting our photo session short and, in doing so, preventing you from taking loads of pictures that I have no inclination to purchase. I can see that you were more than a little irked about that. But, to be honest Mr. Olan Mills Photo Dude, I'm more than a little irked that our staff got Jason photos and we didnt. So ;p.

Good day,
Mrs. Amanda Leggett

Proof that my Mailman is, indeed, on Crack

Exhibit A:
After eagerly awaiting a package* I gather the mail and find that it's not there. Not a big deal, slightly disappointed. 2 hours later I leave the house and the package is in my mailbox.

Exhibit B:
While awaiting another package* I delay leaving town to wait for the mail. The mailman comes, personally puts the mail in my hand, no package. I leave town. Two hours later Kevin calls to tell me the package was in the mailbox when he got home.

Exhibit C:
Yesterday, while eagerly awaiting yet another package*, I watch the mailman walk through my front lawn and throw an empty chip bag on the ground. As he leaves he brushes more trash out of his truck onto my driveway. No package.

Exhibit D (read:Undeniable Proof):
Today, while still eagerly awaiting the same package from yesterday...

9:30am: I take some mail out to the box to be sent out. My neighbors happen to be doing the same.

10:30am: I go check the box even though I know full well the mail never comes before 11:30. The mail I was sending is gone, my box is full of mail. The neighbors mail is still waiting to be taken.

11:00am: I check again to see if he swung back by to get the neighbors mail and, hopefully, drop off my package. Neighbors mail is gone. No package.

1:30pm: We leave the house to run errands. My much anticipated package is in the mailbox.

3:30pm: We return home. No change in the mailbox.

6:00pm: Kevin leaves for work. Comes back in the door moments later carrying a handful of mail from the box.

7.5 hours and 4 trips to deliver mail to one house? Obviously we're dealing with some heavy duty drug use here people.

*Yes, I know I get an inordinate amount of packages in the mail. Cloth diapers, the good ones anyway, are only available online so I'm usually getting a fairly steady stream of "fluffy mail". Sadly, this is the highlight of my life, therefore my mailman is always under my close scrutiny.*

On an unrelated note, here's some pics of the kiddos on halloween. You can also see Caedmon's trip to the Johnson's house here: www.xanga.com/JJPHOTO