Live, Laugh, Love…Loprinzi: A day in our perfectly, imperfect life.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Love of a stuffed pup - a year and counting
2 weeks
6 weeks
8 weeks
4 months old
6 months
8 months
9 months
10 months
11months
12 months
Monday, May 25, 2015
Loprinzi puke-fest 2015
Ryker brought a stomach bug home.
He was puny on Saturday, feeling better a bit on Sunday, so we thought he'd perked up so we ventured out to go bowling. It was the grand opening weekend, and given that we live in a small city with not a whole heck of a lot to do, this bowling alley opening is like…the IT place.
We walk in the brand new facility, Jovie and Kip eager with anticipation. I get ready to pay, and then Ryk says, yells rather, "DAD, I DON'T FEEL GOOD"
I turn abruptly, notice his face of horror. The face of vomit. Pale, wide eyed, he just stares at me.
"get him outside, Paul!"
We leave before we can even start. A mess. A hot mess.
Ryker dry heaving in the parking lot, Kip and Jovie fuming mad and verbally showing it, over the fact that we'd promised to bowl, and failed to keep it.
Hartley was just so happy. Always so happy, until she is in her carseat.
Paul says, just get them in the car, just get them in the car. In an effort to hurry up the process, he lies to Jovie and Kip "lets just get into the car, take Ryker home, and then we'll come back." Lies. All lies. The things you do to get your tiny, complaining, fussing tribe back into the van without making more of a scene.
I hand Ryker a Kroger bag to contain the goods that might jump out, on the car ride home, given his state of pale, nauseation. Poor kid.
I pray that the prior day's events, field day all day in the 80 degree humidity at school, have just given him a bout of heat exhaustion. The kid doesn't know how to chill at all, so from 8am - 2pm he ran like wild outside.
Hoping to persuade the list of differential diagnosis I am coming up with in my head for Ryker, I turn to my phone and say "okay google" and then speak, because, well it is a really rad feature. I say "symptoms of heat exhaustion" to my phone, searching for some hope that is the cause of his state of sickness, and wishing away the other differential diagnosis of viral gastroenteritis.
The van is just full of bummed out people:
Ryker bummed because he is queasy and puny feeling
Kip and Jovie bummed because they just want to go bowling
Paul bummed because there is just so.much.fussing going on
Hartley bummed because she is back in that damn carseat
and me, bummed because a stomach virus is about to run rampant through our house.
As we are pulling back into the house, Ryk says, mom yesterday I sat next to a girl on the bus who threw up at field day…
sigh.
double sigh.
Deep breath.
Those 2nd grader kids are gross and germ filled.
*****
So far we are 1/2 way through spreading this yucky love. Jovie woke up abruptly at 4am, throwing up for about 5 hours straight, but complained of her belly hurting for about 24 hours. She wore herself down and fell asleep on the hardwood floor right next to her bed
and stayed asleep through me picking her up and snuggling her in her bed.
Hartley started throwing up last night at 8pm, and was sick all night long. She finally fell asleep at 5:30am, and slept until 8:30am. Then ate a bit of cheerios and threw up again at 11am. She went back to sleep, and that was the end of the vomiting…Also, a puking baby is a sad, sad sight. She was super clingy and wanted help the next two days, and rarely at much - just a LOT of nursing.
Kip came down with it next. 6 hours of vomiting every 15 minutes. He reports "it looked like smoothie" in case you were wondering. He was also impressed with the fact that he didn't cry. Not one bit. I told him it was okay to, if he needed to. He said that the only thing that needed to cry was his legs and back because they hurt so bad, but rationally explained that his legs and back don't have eyes so they can't cry.
I got sick at work. Had the NP who works opposite of me call in some zofran, and just busted through the remainder of the 6 hour shift. Running to the bathroom between patients. I've never been so miserably sick at work, ever, before. But knowing that Paul still would come down with this yuck, I toughed through the sick because I knew we wouldn't have any help over the holiday weekend from babysitters so I'd need to be home with the kiddos if he came down with it - thus needing to call in sick. Gotta save those sick days, you know, for using them up for sick kids/husband.
Paul was the final victim. Came down with it this morning, meaning we've had someone vomiting or puny for 8 days in this house now. I'm tired of the yuck, and he is NOT a good yuck coping guy. Between his race to the bathroom, he said "there is not any way I'm getting a vasectomy." Bless him, he cannot handle this sort of pain, at all. He can put himself through grueling pain with running, but when it comes to sickness, this man cannot handle it. He wants snuggled, and I want to stay away from the plague. Now before you think I'm horrible, and not nurturing him the way a wife should…I've checked on him laying in bed all day, brining multiple gatorades, and making sure the rice sock gets heated up every once in a while. Not a whole lot to do for someone, but empathize in the midst of this.
I'm looking forward to deep cleaning tomorrow.
He was puny on Saturday, feeling better a bit on Sunday, so we thought he'd perked up so we ventured out to go bowling. It was the grand opening weekend, and given that we live in a small city with not a whole heck of a lot to do, this bowling alley opening is like…the IT place.
We walk in the brand new facility, Jovie and Kip eager with anticipation. I get ready to pay, and then Ryk says, yells rather, "DAD, I DON'T FEEL GOOD"
I turn abruptly, notice his face of horror. The face of vomit. Pale, wide eyed, he just stares at me.
"get him outside, Paul!"
We leave before we can even start. A mess. A hot mess.
Ryker dry heaving in the parking lot, Kip and Jovie fuming mad and verbally showing it, over the fact that we'd promised to bowl, and failed to keep it.
Hartley was just so happy. Always so happy, until she is in her carseat.
Paul says, just get them in the car, just get them in the car. In an effort to hurry up the process, he lies to Jovie and Kip "lets just get into the car, take Ryker home, and then we'll come back." Lies. All lies. The things you do to get your tiny, complaining, fussing tribe back into the van without making more of a scene.
I hand Ryker a Kroger bag to contain the goods that might jump out, on the car ride home, given his state of pale, nauseation. Poor kid.
I pray that the prior day's events, field day all day in the 80 degree humidity at school, have just given him a bout of heat exhaustion. The kid doesn't know how to chill at all, so from 8am - 2pm he ran like wild outside.
Hoping to persuade the list of differential diagnosis I am coming up with in my head for Ryker, I turn to my phone and say "okay google" and then speak, because, well it is a really rad feature. I say "symptoms of heat exhaustion" to my phone, searching for some hope that is the cause of his state of sickness, and wishing away the other differential diagnosis of viral gastroenteritis.
The van is just full of bummed out people:
Ryker bummed because he is queasy and puny feeling
Kip and Jovie bummed because they just want to go bowling
Paul bummed because there is just so.much.fussing going on
Hartley bummed because she is back in that damn carseat
and me, bummed because a stomach virus is about to run rampant through our house.
As we are pulling back into the house, Ryk says, mom yesterday I sat next to a girl on the bus who threw up at field day…
sigh.
double sigh.
Deep breath.
Those 2nd grader kids are gross and germ filled.
*****
So far we are 1/2 way through spreading this yucky love. Jovie woke up abruptly at 4am, throwing up for about 5 hours straight, but complained of her belly hurting for about 24 hours. She wore herself down and fell asleep on the hardwood floor right next to her bed
Hartley started throwing up last night at 8pm, and was sick all night long. She finally fell asleep at 5:30am, and slept until 8:30am. Then ate a bit of cheerios and threw up again at 11am. She went back to sleep, and that was the end of the vomiting…Also, a puking baby is a sad, sad sight. She was super clingy and wanted help the next two days, and rarely at much - just a LOT of nursing.
Kip came down with it next. 6 hours of vomiting every 15 minutes. He reports "it looked like smoothie" in case you were wondering. He was also impressed with the fact that he didn't cry. Not one bit. I told him it was okay to, if he needed to. He said that the only thing that needed to cry was his legs and back because they hurt so bad, but rationally explained that his legs and back don't have eyes so they can't cry.
I got sick at work. Had the NP who works opposite of me call in some zofran, and just busted through the remainder of the 6 hour shift. Running to the bathroom between patients. I've never been so miserably sick at work, ever, before. But knowing that Paul still would come down with this yuck, I toughed through the sick because I knew we wouldn't have any help over the holiday weekend from babysitters so I'd need to be home with the kiddos if he came down with it - thus needing to call in sick. Gotta save those sick days, you know, for using them up for sick kids/husband.
Paul was the final victim. Came down with it this morning, meaning we've had someone vomiting or puny for 8 days in this house now. I'm tired of the yuck, and he is NOT a good yuck coping guy. Between his race to the bathroom, he said "there is not any way I'm getting a vasectomy." Bless him, he cannot handle this sort of pain, at all. He can put himself through grueling pain with running, but when it comes to sickness, this man cannot handle it. He wants snuggled, and I want to stay away from the plague. Now before you think I'm horrible, and not nurturing him the way a wife should…I've checked on him laying in bed all day, brining multiple gatorades, and making sure the rice sock gets heated up every once in a while. Not a whole lot to do for someone, but empathize in the midst of this.
I'm looking forward to deep cleaning tomorrow.
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
Flipping me out!
Girlfriend is a fan of outdoor festivities. Always.
When that gets old they move into the backyard for trampoline jumping. They have learned to do front flips. Every.single.time they look like they won't quite make the full flip, and then just in the knick of time they land on their butt or feet. We have a flip limit, and a rule that they can only do such craziness when I am home. I now know why my parents never purchased us a trampoline when I was a kid, despite our constant pleas.
So I diligently watch, while also snapping a picture of the squirmy baby who wants to join in the dangerous jumping action.
Kip flips
Jovie flips
Ryker flips
Ryker flexes, because I insist a max number of flips to make sure he doesn't get too tired. "see mom, I can do 1,000 flips because I am so strong I won't get hurt." Sure kid, sure.
"MOM DID YOU SEE ME DO A MEGA FLIP LIKE THE BOYS DO!!!" - half in amazement, half scared to death. But sister can do it, and now she is a little pro. Future gymnast?
And then a Mississippi storm rolled in, within minutes the sky turned dark black and we quickly retreated inside...
Then showers/baths, and smoothies/popcorn while watching Big Hero 6 together. Just an ordinary moment of what our day looks like after we pick Ryker up from school.
Monday, May 4, 2015
Rad voicemail
I screened a phone call last night. 8:20am, with an area code local to us.
It was Ryker's teacher, and after hearing the voicemail she left I'm so thankful I screened her call.
I'm a blubbering mess of thankfulness. Thankful that we have a rad 8 year old. Thankful that other people think he is rad. Thankful that he is so humble, and does not understand the level of rad-ness he possesses.
Moments that take my breath away. "He is a treasure, and the most polite, well behaved kid I've ever taught. He is just awesome."
There are moments when I feel like I am constantly on him. Telling him to listen, be respectful, stop talking back. Moments when I question our parenting habits. Moments that I'm not sure I am doing anything right in this parenting journey.
But that message, gave me hope. Hope that despite my shortcomings, somehow he is an awesome kid.
Saturday, May 2, 2015
Saturday at the zoo
We are not spontaneous. Perhaps because with 4 littles, spontaneity leads to a car full of fussing kids driving 90 minutes home from the zoo. But we went, most of them had fun, so I guess it was a win.
The playground at the Zoo was the highlight of Kip's outing. I let Hartley down so she could move around for the first time in 3 hours and out popped this little creep…I swiped Hartley up super quick. I'm not a reptile fan, ESPECIALLY when they sneak up on my BABY!
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