Andrew had his soccer awards tonight because his team placed 2nd in their division.  The coach made a few comments on each player as they accepted their awards and he was particulary complimentary to Andrew, calling him the 'heart and soul' of the team.  He praised his energy, determination and sheer refusal to leave the field unless forced to.  Andrew has a beautiful trophy to put on his mantle and a great experience with this season. 

 

It was interesting to see all the other parents...truly a cross slice of Cowpen sociology.  I was shocked at the lack of camoflauge but certainly comforted by the amount of goatees, sleeveless shirts and hairstyles ala 1982.  Did I mention there was a spit cup on one of the tables?  You think I mock but again, it is only out of love for the imperfections of my fellow man.

 

I started with the Andrew story because you're going to think the Brooke version much more dramatic (but its not).  We spent the weekend outside at the park for our "Family Day" celebrating the day we became a family two years ago.  The weather was great and Brooke started to get the sniffles as she tends to do with allergy season but Sunday night she slid downhill and started wheezing and breathing heavy.  Jim took her in on Monday morning to her pediatrician who referred them to the Children's Hospital where we got to spend the last 36 hours. 

 

I drew night shift.  What that actually means is that I napped on the world's most uncomfortable plastic sofa in the arctic like temp that the nurse thought was best for Brooke's breathing in the 45 minute blocks between doctors, nurses and janitorial staff flipping on the lights and being all too freaking cheerful for the ungodly hours they kept.  Brooke had to have breathing treatments every 4 hours and the 2am doctor really really really must have thought my bleary eyed, half snoring grunt of acknowledgement was a clear invitation to monologue for 20 minutes on the features and benefits of whatever medications he was subjecting my soundly asleep child to.  Which I'd already heard during her previous 4 treatments.  So now I'm sleep deprived and a little slap happy having forgone sleep two nights running.  And cranky - did I mention that? 

 

Brooke thought it was the greatest adventure since Space Mountain.  She got to ride in a wheelchair, eat whatever she wanted and impress the nurses with her ability to swallow pills.  She had an IV in her hand and kept asking how much her 'surgery' was going to cost.  I had to unplug her from monitors and oxygen to get her to the bathroom and as I was following behind her bringing up the miles of tubing, she turned to me and proudly exclaimed "mommy!  I'm like a pet!"  (tubing...leash...get it?)

 

Anywho, Brooke and Jim were finally released about a half hour ago and are on their way home.  Apparently, Brooke has a medicine array to rival Jim's which is saying something.  And a bunch of rules regarding exposure to dog hair, grass, trees, other humans and weird things that take hold in air vents.  I asked if the rules came with a plastic bubble or if we were responsible for getting our own but Jim didn't find that funny.  Sleep deprivation.  On his part because I KNOW I'm funny.  Not Chris Farley/Patrick Swayze Chipndale scene funny but funny all the same.

 

How's that for an entry??  I need to put up more pics.  I have them...I just need to find the cord.