When you become a parent, or find out you are going to become a parent, you begin to get advice that there will be moments in the years to come when you will be tested, scared and even feel like giving your precious children a good whoopin. If you are like me, as a new parent, you probably brush those well meaning comments aside, and think, "Maybe someday." Well, someday came. In the form of one of those moments that I was warned of; a "scared beyond belief" moment. Croup. The evening was like any other. We played, ate, bathed, brushed teeth, read books and went to bed. A great evening, in fact. Daddy and I went to bed a bit late, as we were enthralled in a heated game of Scrabble on the Ipad. (wow, we are old.) About thirty minutes after we were in bed, we heard Ashton start screaming. A weird scream. A "something is not right" scream. I immediately jumped up (using that term loosely, as I am not really jumping anywhere these days) and ran to his room. When I walked in, he was on his knees, leaning over the protective side rail on his bed, fighting to breathe. Fighting hard. I scooped him up and yelled for daddy. Within two minutes of assessing him, daddy was strapping him into his carseat and I was fumbling around for my shoes. Any shoes I could find, really. I was in full blown panic mode. Daddy was calm and methodical, handing me my phone and wallet as I ran (again, using that loosely) past him toward the car. As I was hurriedly backing out of our driveway, Ashton made the most profound (and hilarious) statement. "Mom", he said, "Daddy is right. Daddy said I need to relax. We both need to relax." He also later told me in the hospital room that we needed to "stay calm". Hard to believe he is barely three sometimes. We were at the emergency room within ten minutes of discovering our precious boy fighting for air. As soon as we arrived, we were escorted back and immediately assessed. Two steroid shots, two breathing treatments and five chest x-rays later, the Doctor said to me, "welcome to the world of croup." Welcome, indeed. More like, "welcome to the absolute scariest moment of my life thus far". I have heard this before and it rang so true: Croup comes like a thief in the night and steals your child's ability to breathe. I hope we never experience this again. Thankfully, Ashton is already back to normal. Although intense and scary, croup doesn't stick around long. He was actually quite perturbed that I wouldn't let him go to school yesterday. Emory has been battling the beginning symptoms of bronchitis, so we all stayed home yesterday. Before all the hoopla ensued, I had big plans of baking, organizing, resting...generally nesting.
This is what I had hoped to accomplish yesterday. Hopefully tomorrow I will have a picture of a gorgeous, yummy, homemade apple pie. The hubby's fave. If it happens, it will be a first. I have not quite perfected the art of the "pretty" pie yet ;)
