Day 1 (Or would it be day 25 if we're counting down?)

So the first day without Mark.....all of it breaks loose. I ran out of diapers, and needed to get to the store to buy some before Sunday. This means dressing up the four little ones and heading to Wal-mart 7:30 at night. We all get dressed again (my kids have a habit of getting dressed and undressed about three times a day), and get ready to go in for the basics. We get out of the van, and low and behold, two out of four kids don't have shoes on. The middle two nonetheless. Being 7 miles away from home, I make them get into their own separate cart and let Katrina push the second cart with Taylor. So Voila, we are finally in the store, two hours after we started trying to get there.

Wal-mart has a fascinating way of making you forget what you went in for the moment you step inside. The kids start begging to get Shrek the Third and chocolate and waffles. If there had been pet toads by the front door they would of wanted a few of those too. We make our way to the Diapers (exact middle of the store) and I start looking for a coat for Mason. I turn my head for I would say 12 seconds, Caroline stands up, leans over, starts pulling on a video bin and turns the whole cart with her and Mason in it over. Knowing it is just their own stupidity, I get them up and try and put them back in the cart with the few scrapes they have. In the meantime, every wal-mart employee comes around offering ice and bandages and who knows what else.

I just wanted to leave right then, but knew I had to finish the shopping I came to do, because I was never going to be able to show my face in there with my lil 'ellians again. Caroline and Mason then fall asleep on each other in the cart, and there is peace (for a few minutes) until we get out to the car.

The wind was piercing cold, and those two wouldn't stand up and get out of the cart. They just pulled their blankets up tighter and want to stay in the parking lot! Again, Wal-mart employees start running over to see why they are screaming (cause they are half-asleep and cold and won't get into the car). And I'm trying to get Taylor and the groceries into the car. I just didn't have enough hands!

We get home, get everything in the house, and start trying to get them ready for bed. Which includes the amoxocillin. Yes, Carlie and Taylor both have ear infections and need their medicine. Caroline takes it just fine...but Taylor... Taylor is a whole other story. We take this medicine three times a day, and every time it is me pinning him in my arms, and taking a syringe and squirting tiny bits into his cheek. If you give too much, he has ammo to spit it at you, not enough, you will never get through the dose. Don't worry, only 29 doses to go!

So we make it through that torture, get everyone in their beds, everything settled down. I am the last to crawl in bed, I shut of the light, fluff my pillow, and let out a deep breath that I made it through the day. Then I hear the gurgling. Then the cough....Yup...Taylor. In bed with me. Threw up all of dinner, and the medicine of an hour earlier. This wouldn't make me so upset, except the fact that two weeks ago he threw up every night, twice. A girl just gets tired of never knowing when she's going to be puked, pissed, or pooped on.

So, I change the sheets, give Taylor his fourth bath of the day, get back in bed and sleep as best I could. Then came church (I am not going into the drama of church in this post), and the end of a very, very, long 24 hours since the last post.

The only thing that keeps running through my mind.... A song by Kenny Rogers.

"You picked a fine time to leave me, Lucille"