1:23 a.m.

Just talked to Kyle. Mason is breathing the same, but the ER nurse took an oxygen level and that was okay. They gave him a shot of Decadron to open up his airways and now they are waiting for a room.

I'm sure he has croup, especially since his sisters both just had it. But dang ... that is the worst sounding croup I've ever heard!

12:44 a.m.

About 15 minutes ago, Mason woke up coughing like a seal. A very large seal. The worst I've ever heard.

Kyle ran into Mason's room with me in hot pursuit. He grabbed him out of bed and took him straight to the bathroom. And Mason vomited.

Not such a big deal, but he couldn't breathe. He was breathing the most labored breaths I've ever heard and he just couldn't catch his breath. His little body was shaking out of control and he kept saying how cold he was. Mind you, we have the AC on because it is so hot in our upstairs.

After watching him breathe like this for several minutes with no relief, I told Kyle we needed to take him to the ER. I totally freaked out. I am so not used to dealing with illness and health problems with Mason, as weird as that sounds. Typically, it is the girls that have the issues.

So please pray for Mason ... I know Kyle is freaking out too, so that says a lot! As soon as Mason heard me say "ER", the first thing he said was, "Am I going to have to get a shot?" Poor kid, he is so worried about having to get a shot while I'm trying to figure out if he can even catch his breath.

I am blogging because now I'm wide awake and sitting here waiting for Kyle's call. Even though I know they are not even at the ER yet. It is going to be a long night.

Here we go again

I am pretty sure that if Payton could talk, she would say this ...

I want to do EVERYTHING my brother does. I think I'm five just like him. I also think I'm a boy and that I can do all the crazy things that boys do. Just.like.him ... just like my brother. I love him after all and I want to be just.like.him.

And if she were to say that, I'd tell her ...

No Payton, you cannot do everything your brother does. He is five and he has two years of gross motor skill on you. He is also a boy and well ... boys are a lot more crazy than girls. So please baby ... PLEASE ... stop trying to do everything he does. You can copy him on most things, but let's stop with EVERYTHING. Okay?

Need an explanation? Haha.

Mason has this little thing he likes to do here at home. I like to call it skidding out. We have some pretty slick hardwood floors and in his spare time, he likes to take off running and skid out ... as if he is sliding into home plate or something.

Somewhere along the way ... instead of looking at him like he is crazy ... Payton decided to join in. So last night they were skidding away, although Payton isn't the most graceful skidder in the world.

Bam ... she slid right into the pantry door and busted open her forehead, right in the exact same area that the guitar assaulted her. Except this time we got a 1/2" wide horizontal gash.

Lovely.

So after a five hour emergency room visit and some more liquid stitches, we were home and nestled in our bed by 12:30 a.m.

This child is quickly following in my footsteps, as I had a few sets of stitches myself as a young child. Then came my arm break and sprained ankles. Ei yi yi ... I hope she starts following someone else's footsteps soon, because I was a disaster of a child.

Payton lost the fight.

WARNING ... this post is not for those with a weak stomach.

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Don't say I didn't warn ya. Because I did.

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This afternoon, I was making dinner in the kitchen, enjoying life as all three of my kids had themselves happily encompassed in separate activities not more than 15 feet from me. Nobody was bothering anyone.

Ahh ... peace.

Until ... Payton started crying. Crying loudly. Screaming. Screaming at the top of her lungs.

What in the heck? I quickly ran over to her and found this ... the crime scene ...



















Clearly this picture was taken after I removed the culprit from the scene and tended to my daughter. But you get the picture.

The culprit ...



















This guitar had been leaning in the corner behind the piano that Payton was playing with. She must have moved the piano in such a way that it bumped the guitar, causing it to fall.

It fell on her. On her head. It hit her right smack dab in the middle of her forehead.

There was blood everywhere, gushing out of her forehead. A huge pile of blood on the floor as you can see above. I immediately put pressure on her forehead and yelled for Mason to get me some paper towels.

The thing would not stop bleeding. I completely panicked and knew I had to get her to the hospital, but I wasn't sure how I was going to do that with me, three kids and a gushing forehead.

I applied pressure for several minutes until the bleeding slowed down. In the interim, Mason got me the phone so I could call for help. The only problem was my mind was racing so fast that I could barely remember anyone's phone number.

I called my friend Jodi who lives around the corner first ... I figured she could get to me the fastest. NO ANSWER. I called my sister several times. NO ANSWER. I called my husband several times. NO ANSWER. I called my mom several times on two different cell phones. NO ANSWER.

Seriously people!

Those were the phone numbers I knew off the top of my head. My cell phone was elsewhere in the house and I couldn't get to it. I knew I needed to call my sister-in-law, but my brain was not functioning. So ... I have to apologize to the person whose phone number is 414-659-1271 ... I really didn't mean to bother you and I'm sorry if I sounded like a frazzled lunatic ... but at that moment I was. That phone number would be the area code of my sister-in-law's cell phone, combined with portions of my fax number.

Sigh.

I finally pulled myself together and got her number right. SHE ANSWERED. Thank God for her! She said she'd meet me at the hospital and off we went. On our way there, I finally reached my mom and Kyle, both of whom planned to meet me at the hospital too.

Upon arrival, I took this picture of Payton with my cell phone ...

After having Payton's wound numbed and cleaned, I was amazed at how tiny the gash was. The strange thing was that it looked like a hole in her head ... probably about 2mm in diameter. Who knew that so much blood could come from such a small gash? The RN decided that Payton needed to have stitches and agreed that liquid stitches would do the trick. Phew.

But nonetheless, I knew Payton would put up a good fight. We had to restrain her using a pillowcase ... thank God the actual closing of the gash didn't take that long. Although, just a few seconds of what we experienced seemed like an eternity.

Our pretty princess got a McD's happy meal on our way home for being such a champ. Here she is enjoying her fries and chocolate milk ... all while making sure to let us know she has a boo-boo. Poor baby girl ...



















Now I'm off to find that damn guitar ... it is going in the trash!