Hives

It might not be a good day if the 5-year-old is in charge of the baby and is the one feeding her baby food.

It might not be a good day if the 3-year-old is in charge of the 2-year-old and is putting her in pj's for naptime.

It might not be a good day if I'm sitting down to a bowl of cereal at 1:30 pm.

No, not a good day at all.

What happened, you say?  Well, let me tell you....

We are part of a homeschoool co-op in another town.  Yes, we are weird homeschoolers and we love every minute of it!  Bee is in the nursery with Ladybug because if you're not already 3, you're in the nursery.  This might be ok if there weren't 15 kids in there all under the age of 3, or if every child didn't come with a sippie cup full of milk and a backpack with snacks.  Actually, this very well could be my worst nightmare.

I did notify everyone of the allergies, and I thought most everyone was aware of the serious nature of the allergies.  I was going to bring the snack every week.  I was going to be in the room with Bee.  We would be safe.

Wrong!

The chaos of caring for so many little children all with their own sippie cups and some even eating their own snacks nearly proved disastrous for us that day.  (Not to mention that I was the only nursery worker who showed up that day-tripling the usual chaos as volunteers were found).  Toward the end of class, Bee had a hive on her face.  This quickly turned in to a red ring around her mouth.  Soon her arms were swelling and breaking out in hives.  I gave her the Benadryl and I applied Cortizone.  But it was time for me to leave.  I absolutely had to get home.

There is nothing like rounding up 4 kids from separate rooms with their craft projects and trying to get them to the car.  Thankfully, the kids know the drill for when there's an emergency and they are usually unbelievably cooperative and helpful.  Another mom even helped us load.  I was shaking so hard I could barely drive out of the parking lot toward home.  I really didn't know if I would be able to make it.  I was two towns away from "home" and Prince Charming was in another state.

On our drive Bee started to cough and gag.  Anaphylaxis.  Not good.  I knew there was a fire station in the next town and I called 911 to get directions.  I made it to the fire station and was greeted by paramedics who monitored Bee.  Her oxygen levels were good but she was wheezing.

The paramedics left it up to me to decide if we should transport.  We waited at the station for a little while but I could tell that the swelling was going down and most of the hives had disappeared.  She had also stopped coughing and was acting more like herself.  One of the other moms had actually followed me to make sure we would make it.  There was nothing like having another set of hands to keep track of everyone at the fire station.

The paramedics were waiting to see what I would decide about Bee.  I felt that I could make it safely to the next town, which was home.  We loaded up for the second time and home has never looked so good.

Bee took a bath, ate a snack, and went to bed.  Her rash is gone and her breathing sounds normal once again. 

Ladybug is in bed napping.  I was finally able to enjoy my bowl of cereal.  And Tiger and Curly are in the living room playing.  Tiger is a fireman and Curly is the paramedic.  She is carting baby dolls to the "hospital" with her shopping cart.  Tiger is using his sword as an ax to break in to houses.

I'll cut down the door!  Then I'll use my ladder!  I have my ax!

We're going to the hospital!  We need more oxygen!

Ohhh, goodness.  My children will be scarred for life.