Too much to say!

I don't know what to title this post, because... well, there's just too much to say.

I've been very quiet in bloggy world because my real world went into overdrive for a while there - and today, finally, I have found a space to breathe.

So - where to start?

The Sickies
Here we are, barely a foot into winter's corridor and my little ones are terribly sick. Malakai got a cough last week that rapidly turned into bronchial pneumonia. He was as sick as I've ever seen him - not eating, drinking or even moving for a good few days, temps up real high and a chest that sounded like it hurt to breathe. Thankfully, after a coarse of antibiotics, a concoction of other meds and nebulizing every 3 hours for the last five days, he's on the mend.
Only thing is - now Harlan is also sick, coughing like a veteran smoker and blocked up real bad. We're doing everything we can to stop him from getting worse (never mind better) at this point.

The Holiday
Every year we have an annual family holiday with my sister's family and our mother, booked and paid for months in advance. It fell slap bang in the middle of our fight to beat the sickies - and we naively thought we could actually go away (with two sick boys) and kind of, sort of enjoy it... What?? "It's be like home, but with a better view," we tried to convince ourselves beforehand. No. It sucked. Really bad. Seriously.
We left a day early and I don't have even one photograph of 'holiday'.

Saying Goodbye
While on holiday, having a really horrible time, my sister-in-law called to say that she found my eldest dog (one of three little mongrels), in the bushes after a night out. She wasn't walking. OK, so Baby (her name) is 14 years old, so I thought it might be a stroke. When the vet examined her, it was evident that one (or both) of the other dogs had fought with her and given her a really nasty bite on her side.
Baby, a little fat fluffy dog, had been with me since I was 16 years old. Ever a feisty little thing, she was always up for a rough-and-tumble game.
It was through Baby that I had my first epiphany - that love didn't have to said, it had to be done... love was about touch, about a stroke on the head, about a wagging tail and bright eyes peering back at you. You didn't talk about love - you did love.
We were home two days later and we weren't sure if Baby was going to make it. She showed signs of alertness, but wasn't drinking or eating. I hoped for the best (especially since she was too weak to operate on) but I expected the worst. In amongst this, Darryl and I were battling to care for our two sick babies, never mind having time to care for Baby. Luckily my mother had returned to our house with us after the mishappen holiday.
On our first night home I was already in bed, alseep, when my mother sat with Baby, holding and stroking her head while she took her final breath. My mother didn't wake me, and she gently wrapped Baby and put her outside. The next morning I noticed that she wasn't in her soft bed that we had made for her to recover in and my mother broke the news to me.
I cried because I will miss this little fluffy fat dog. I cried because Baby's been part of my life for 14 years. I cried because in the end she slowly died over 3 days, and this hurts my heart.
But, I am grateful for my mother, because after a week of two very sick children and a holiday nightmare, I was completely exhausted and I don't think I would've handled Baby dying in my arms. It would have killed me. But for my mother - I am so grateful.

My mother...
...the woman who picked up all the flack over the past week and a half. My mother helped administer medicine when Malakai cried his little eyes out. My mother sat up with Malakai when both myself and my husband were too tired to carry on. My mother cooked meals and fed us when we hardly had time to shower. My mother cared for and acknowledged my Baby dog when she most needed it, something I am not sure I would have been able to do.
Thank God for Moms!

Work
And! Now! After a hellish week and a half, I am going back to work next week. I've been on maternity leave for 4,5 months - I don't even know if I remember how to do my hair and dress up respectably! LOL!

Such is life.

Sometimes everything comes crashing down and life spins on the very edges of our control, threatening to engulf you in utter chaos. This happens more often than it used to, with two little ones in the house. At least, in the midst of it all, I am conscious of the fact that it too will pass and calm (or rather a two-small-baby-version of calm) is not too far away, if I just hold tight, focus on what needs to be done, and do it.

So, I guess I'm trying to say - I hope my boys get better soon, I love my mother for her utter strength and support and my heart hurts because my Baby dog is no longer with us.