Everett's Big Adventures

This guy has been no stranger to the ER or the doctor's office in his time. He's had stitches in his face. He's had his face glued before. He was there with us (briefly) when Henry got his concussion a couple months ago. That said, Everett has had a pretty rough June. The little guy managed to pick up some Lyme disease in the last couple of weeks.

BTW, this is what a bulls-eye rash looks like which is a clear indicator of Lyme disease.

Then, within just a week of Ev's diagnosis for Lyme, on Father's Day, we decided it'd be a great idea to ride bikes over to the Portage Marina (Marina Shores) and fish off the dock. Everett's getting to be really good at handling his little bike, and I was impressed with his ability to manage one of the wheel chair ramps when we got closer to the marina. Then, we reached another ramp that led down to where the boats are docked, and as we rode down this ramp, I quickly began to realize that the grade was more significant than I would have expected (being a wheelchair ramp heading toward a marina). Right at the moment that I realized this, Everett had finished the ramp and rounded the corner at the end of the ramp, and his momentum carried him (and his bike) right off the edge of the platform and into the dark, murky waters of the marina.

I've probably never been so scared in my whole life.

Luckily, Willis was able to leap from the platform to the dock (somewhere around 7 feet or so, I'd guess) so that he could reach down and grab Everett out of the water. I couldn't see Ev in the water when Willis got him, but he said that Everett was actually keeping his face above water on his own somehow (I'm thanking God for swim lessons and bike helmets right now). They keep the docks locked for security reasons, so there was no getting on the dock any other way.

When he came out, he cried for about 1.5 hours. For a few minutes, we were pretty confident his bike was gone (it disappeared under the water). Luckily, some boaters came over to help with a boat hook, and we were able to retrieve his bike. We did not go fishing. Ev has said he never wants to go fishing again.

Ev was also pretty upset that he lost a Croc (shoe). Also, he hurt his wrist somewhere in the process, so we had a hard time figuring out if we needed to get an x-ray for that with all the other crying he was doing about everything else.

Willis doing some dadding. He described the rescue as his first "George Bailey" moment.

I even drove Ev to the ER (on Father's Day) shortly after this happened to go get it x-rayed, but the ER was full of people with head injuries. Plus, Everett started to cheer up and be silly with me at the ER, so I ended up just leaving thinking that he must be okay after all.

Then, in the middle of the night, Everett complained about his arm again. So, this morning, when a friend offered to take my older two (the best), I ran him to the pediatrician's office (calling on the way). The lady that looked at Everett was the same nurse practitioner we used to see at our pediatrician's office in La Porte when we lived there, so it was neat to see her again. She gave us a brace for Ev's arm, and then, she sent us to the digital imaging department where Everett got his arm x-rayed.

He's not a fan of the brace. Not even a little.

As it turns out, there is a fracture in his wrist. And, I've been spending the day waiting to hear back from the orthopedic people and losing my mind. Everett keeps taking the brace off. I'm frustrated and impatient. Once we get some answers, I can get back to focusing on the fact that I'm just ecstatic that he's still here and breathing.

Also, I wish I could thank the sweet lady who was in tears who offered her help when and after it happened. I don't know who she was, but I appreciated her. I didn't, however, much appreciate the staff of the marina who kind-of yelled at Nora and Henry because their (and our) bikes were in the way of their service ATV that they were driving on the platform. "Oh, hey. Yeah. Our kid just fell in here and almost died. Give us a sec to collect ourselves."

It's been surreal.

I guess it's time to call the ortho people again and ask them why the heck they haven't called back yet . . .

Purdue Musical Organizations Meets The Hunger Games: 10 Years In

Dreams have eluded me for what seems like seven years, so I am still wondering why, today of all days, I woke up dreaming. Perhaps it's the amount of reflection that has been happening this week. (Last week, I had a 15 year high school reunion, and while we were nearby, we managed to sneak over to Purdue's campus with our kids.)

This dream was unsettling, though, and, yet, comforting in places. I'll describe it, in short, as Purdue Musical Organizations (with the folks that were in it when I was) meets The Hunger Games.

Several familiar faces (from the aforementioned PMO) met us (Willis and me) at a gathering place. We all laughed and enjoyed each other's company like time stood still since we had last seen each other. Then, we were all separated and shipped off on a really fast train to some facility that had some Starbucks-like features with undertones of corporate death. I realized, standing in this sterile place, that I had forgotten to plan ahead in any sort of fashion (bad shoes, clothes, no supplies, etc.). That's when I saw a local mom (present day) walk by with a concerned look on her face (not looking at me, just walking by), but she was clearly prepared and well-dressed for the occasion (which is hilarious because this lady is always so well-dressed and prepared).

In all this, I realized I was separated from Willis, and I had left my phone in our room (when I told Willis this part, he was like, "OH! The HORROR!"). I was realizing I might never see him again, unless it was on the battlefield where he might have to kill me. I was carrying a knife that was given to me in transit (probably by Woody Harrelson) that had more than just two dimensions that I wasn't particularly thrilled about trying to pocket.

Then, as I faced and looked out a panel of windows to realize that we were seated a tad lower than sea level, I saw some waves swell and crash over the retaining wall toward the windows. It was quite unsettling.

Then, of course, I woke up in a total panic. As the fog wore off (which took awhile, by the way), my heart started to explode with gratitude. Gratitude for not being in that place. Gratitude for realizing that I am waking up with a house full of joy, and getting ready to sneak away (just for a bit) and celebrate our ten years of marriage. Gratitude for stupid dreams that help me keep perspective.

I wonder if we'll always feel like our beginning days were just yesterday. We seem to age, but the memories sure do not.

How I Got Melted Red Crayon Out of an Entire Load of Laundry

Yesterday, I opened up a dryer full of adult clothes (my husband's work shirts, pants, some of my shorts, a skirt I made, yadda) and discovered that they were all splattered in RED. After I praised God for my children not being in the house when I made this discovery (I may have gone on a sailor-styled cursing rant), I tried not to panic. And, also, cry. It took me until I had everything out of the dryer before I discovered a flattened piece of red generic crayon paper.

I did what any other modern mom would do, and left that pile of clothes on the floor and ran to Google. I saw so many different things. I laughed at every single one that said, "Use an iron and paper bags," because I was dealing with an ENTIRE load of laundry. Covered. In red. Addressing all those stains with an iron would take a month. And my sanity.

So, after combining a few ideas from several different blog posts (and also what Crayola said to do about it—even though this crayon was an impostor), I came up with this concoction.

• 1 cup of Borax (I used 20 Mule Team—is there any other kind?)
• 2 full scoops (to the top line) of Oxyclean
• ¼ cup of Dawn dish detergent
• 1 full cap (to the top line) of Tide laundry detergent

I dumped all those ingredients into the bottom of the washing machine. I threw all those clothes back in there.

I turned on the water at my utility sink (next to my washer and dryer) to full blast hot and waited until it got hot. Then, I filled up the washing machine. My washing machine is a new, old-school top loader, and I was able to finagle it so that it would sit and soak after it filled. If I didn't have this, I was probably going to have to plug up the utility sink to do it in there.

I let that sit overnight. Then, this morning, I ran the load through the full cycle (in the same water), and when I went to pull it out of the wash, it was as if it didn't even happen.

I did see that a sport bra had a faint pink area on the inside, and a pair of my husband's shorts had a faint pink spot on the rear (but there were stains and holes in that sucker already, anyway). If I had tried again with those (to treat them), I'm sure it would have come out. I didn't even care at that point, and I knew those spots wouldn't cause more damage. So, I carried on.

Also, the dryer didn't have any solid chunks in it, but it was a faint pink color. I used a Magic Eraser on the drum, and then, I got an already-ruined towel wet and ran it in there on hot afterwards. That took care of it.

That's it! Don't cry. It'll be okay.