We then ran around to art classes and birthday parties. Sunday was more mellow consisting of crescents and coffee in the morning, followed by church. We ended up driving to Delaware, having a leisurely family lunch and wandering the mall en route to picking up CB in Maryland.
Speaking of V-Day, so it's 7:00 pm Sunday night and I've just gotten CB home and the family fed, bathed and settled. I finally actually READ the note from Pink's second grade teacher regarding Valentines Day which instructed parents to send in Valentines cards for the party on MONDAY the 13th, instead of Tuesday the 14th. Good to know. But guess who had not bought any valentines for their children's classes yet and was going to do it the day before like she did the "100 Days of School" project and just about everything else? Freakin' UGH!
So, I scrambled to the closest grocery store at 7:30 pm instead of my beloved Target because Dr. Fabulous SWORE the grocery store sold valentines and, as usual, he was mistaken. I should have known better. According to him, any store that is in the closest proximity at the moment is always the store he swears sells whatever it is I need.
"Sure the movie theatre sells AA batteries."
"Of course Home Depot sells strawberries!!"
"Don't drive 15 minutes to Target even though you know they actually HAVE baby wipes. They sell them right there at the corner deli next to the olive loaf... Duh!"
I was feeling slightly bummed at myself for waiting until the last minute with the Valentines cards. I had such big hopes of crafting up super cute homemade Valentines for the girls to hand out that I saw on Pinterest (my new obsession) and I just let this stupid, overrated holiday sneak up on me. My stay-at-home mommy pride stinging a bit from this little fall from grace, I wandered up to bed at 10:00 and engaged in my ritualistic "checking on the children" routine only to find CB finishing up another noctornal seizure which trailed off into her odd pattern of abnormal, labored breathing, spastic movements, teeth grinding and agitation.
I'm never quite sure if this is just part of the post-ictal (after seizure, for those not in the know) experience or petit mal seizures like aftershocks from the big earthquake. But I sit there poised to run to the closet for the Diastat Kit or the phone for 9-1-1 because it's now been 10 minutes of this weird stuff after goodness knows how long she was quietly seizing in bed before I found her.
Everything ended up settling down and eventually I was able to drift off into sleep after a string of desperate prayers for her health and safety that I feel guilty even muttering in the silence because who am I and how can I ask when so many awful thing occur in this world that are far worse than any situation we have going on here. But I asked nonetheless for something - anything- because when you are completely impotent to do anything to help your baby all you really can do is pray and hope with all your soul that your prayer is somehow different than the helpless act of begging into the darkness.
And just like that, my Valentines card fiasco seemed really, really stupid and insignificant.