bar fights and collectors items

Things are getting back to normal here at Chez O'Neill. When I look back over the last two weeks, I really can't believe we all survived with our sanity.

I would say sanity is relative, though.

Thursday I spent half the day crying my eyes out. I don't know why. I was overcome with emotion that I believe was FINALLY released when I got home from the hospital, felt like all my men were relatively healthy or at least improving and BREATHED for the first time in 14 days.

Gavin now has a phobia of the hospital. He is afraid to tell me when he doesn't feel well. I have explained that just because he doesn't feel well doesn't mean he will necessarily go to the hospital. Also, I have explained that the hospital is, in fact, what helped him get better. At home, he would have become sicker and sicker and could have died from his lungs not working right if we hadn't gone to the hospital at some point in time. He said they lied about putting a straw in his arm. It was really a needle first. Ah, true, wise Gavin. Necessary evils to get kids to cooperate.

Brian looks like he got in a bar fight. He has a raging black eye. Behind his ear is an enormous bruise - black and purple. His abdomen looks like he took a couple of kicks to the gut with its bruising. And the top of his head has a stitched up slit that looks like a beer bottle had its way with his scalp. This is all from the surgery - the bleeding that was not visible from the procedure making its way out of the system.

Grant is acting out. He has become a bit aggressive and destructive. Saturday, while I was away at a baby shower, he had his way with the big screen TV downstairs. Nerf gun war, apparently. There were little Nerf dart marks all over that were easily wiped away. However, the large scratches, MOST, but not all of which buffed out were a result of the NERF GUN attacking the screen. Grant's hand was on the opposite end of the gun.

Then Grant threw a fit in the store yesterday when I explained he was not getting a cookie because he disobeyed me again about keeping his jacket out of his mouth - the same jacket which now has an inoperable zipper due to the same mouth and teeth that can't stay away from it. He took off his jacket and swung it wildly in the air as hard as he could hitting an innocent lady as she walked by. When she heard my horror and shock-filled gasp, she sheepishly looked back and said it was okay. I think she was afraid of what might happen to the adorable, wide-eyed little boy whose mother was foaming at the mouth if she would have made a big deal about it. He was obviously going to have a consequence for his actions.

I threw away an $85 tennis ball today. On purpose.

When I arrived home from the baby shower on Saturday, I was told our basement toilet was clogged. The guys had spent a large portion of the afternoon trying to remedy the problem to no avail. One of my nephews had taken a large dump and it was thought this was the culprit. Plunging did nothing. I bought a sort of snake de-clogging tool and it also did nothing. In fact, it would not penetrate the neck of the toilet. So, I called the plumber today. The plumber tried the same things unsuccessfully. He then shop-vac-ed out the poop water and found a TENNIS BALL lodged in the neck of the toilet. INTERESTING. I am pretty sure my 8 year old nephew did not use a tennis ball to wipe his messy little bum. I know from this post, I wanted the boys to work on their aim, but I meant it a little more anatomically than athletically.

When Grant got home from school today, I explained that the plumber had been here and fixed the toilet.
Me: Guess what? He found something in it.
Grant: A tennis ball?
Me: Yes. How did you know that?
Grant: I guessed?
Me: Uh- huh. I see. How did the tennis ball get into the toilet?
Grant: I don't know?
Me: Yes you do. How?
Grant: I think I don't remember.
Me: I think you need to remember.
Grant: Ummm. I THINK I was going pee and I had the tennis ball in my hand, but I set it down on the edge of the toilet and I think it probably fell in. Then I finished going pee, I think.
Me: And you flushed the toilet with the tennis ball in it?
Grant: Yes, I accidentally forgot to get the tennis ball out first.

So, I explained that accidents happen and it is gross when things fall in the toilet, but he should have told us this happened because we could have saved a lot of time and money if we knew what the problem was. If he ever drops something in the toilet again, he needs to tell us RIGHT AWAY and NEVER FLUSH IT FIRST.

So, does anyone know the going rate for 5 year old child labor? I have $85 owed to me.

Lessons learned from this: If you want to save some money and not call the plumber after your toilet does not respond to plunging and snake routing for declogging, you can wet-vac the water out and find the lodged item. However, having someone else suction dung-water out of my toilet to find a feces covered tennis ball is worth EVERY BIT OF $85 for 25 minutes of work. EVERY PENNY.

KEEP BELIEVING