We've come back from Germany with a BANG!  I feel like I have been spinning in a tornado..... actually, my house looks like I've been living in a tornado.  The past week has been eventful, but I will focus on the last two days, because they have seen enough action to last the week.

James has been sick since we got home, and Joshua has been sick since Monday.  Both have had fevers, coughs, acheness, runny nose, etc.  Yesterday morning James started putting his fingers in his ears, and saying "Ears owkie (ouchie)."  I thought he might have ear infections, but since most go away without antibiotics, I decided to just watch him.

Being a good mother, or attempting it,  I decided to put James' needs above my own yesterday.  I hadn't had breakfast, was still in my pajamas, and feeling pretty grungy, but when I saw that his face had dried snot on it, I gave him a bath first.   I got him out, put lotion on him, dressed him, brushed his hair and teeth, and then noticed that he had long, jagged fingernails.  I got out my new clippers, which are large, sharp and wonderful, straight from Germany.    I then preceded to cut his fingernails.

Looking at his hands now, I realize that the size of the clippers was effecting my precision, and I was cutting a little low.  At the time, I didn't realize this was the cause of James' shrieking, so I held him down and kept cutting.  On his right pointer finger, he moved his hand a little, and I cut the top of his finger off!  It makes me cringe just to write it.  He screamed (obviously) and his finger started to bleed immediately.  I ran him into the bathroom, and started holding it with a washcloth, applying as much pressure as I could.

We sat there for a long time, and every time I tried to look at his finger, my view was obstructed by free flowing blood, and lots of it.  Eventually, I was able to determine that a chunk of his skin was hanging off.  Our minivan has been broken down for a month and a half, so I had no choice but to call Jared and summon him home.  It took him a half hour to get home, where he found James and I sitting in front of the TV, both of us with blood covered hands, and me still in my pajamas with scum on my teeth.

I also failed to mention that  there is no first aid kit in the house.  All we had were a few lame band aids.  The first thing I did upon Jared's entry was send him to the car, where we have a well stocked first aid kit.  He then preceded to bandage up James, while I got dressed and brushed my teeth.  James and I then rushed to the emergency room.

The ER was fairly empty, which I took as a good sign, but I was wrong.  There was only one pediatric doc on duty, and we were number 7 in line.  We waited an hour.  The bleeding stopped shortly after our arrival (of course) and after 45 minutes I found James some toys.  Right before the doctor came, James tore the chunk of skin off, and the bloodbath started all over again.   Having been through a lot with my children, I pride myself on being tough.  However the sheer quantity of blood was difficult to stomach.  I started feeling queasy and lightheaded... it probably didn't help that I hadn't eaten.

When the doctor finally came, he looked at James' hand, and deemed it "not serious."  How can a missing fingertip be "not serious?"  All he did was give James a tight band aid and instruct me to keep a band aid with neosporin on it for a few days.

Well, we have a $50 ER copay, and I was determined to get the most for my money, so I had the doctor look at James' ears and diagnose double ear infections.  The doctor wrote  a prescription and give James the first dose in the ER.  At least we got something out of it.

After a round trip of almost 2 1/2 hours, we finally got home.  Jared, making the best use of time, was working on our kitchen cabinets (a story of its own for tomorrow).  Jared went back to work, I put James down for a nap, and got to work doing marketing for my father.

My children are determined to keep me from getting anything done.  James got out of his bed every five minutes.  I tried everything to get him to stay: I gave him Tylenol, I put a movie on for him, I read him books, and I laid with him.  That boy was determined to play with the kids.   After about two hours of chasing him around the house, I gave up, and let him watch TV in the basement with the other kids.

I got about an hour of interrupted work done before James came to me.  He said "Mommy, finger owkie again."  I looked at him, to see blood covering his hand and his arm all the way to his elbow.  The blood was pouring out again.

I ran to the bathroom, grabbed another washcloth, and started applying pressure.  I took him in the kitchen, and started yelling for Joshua and Claire to come - it was an emergency.  They ignored me.  I yelled more, they ignored me more.  Finally, Claire came, and I told her to go get the first aid kit from the living room.  She came back, telling me that it was gone, and Daddy must have taken it back to the car.  I looked at my bloody hands, and could not believe that Jared had taken the first aid kit!  What was he thinking????  I called for kids to come again, and eventually Joshua came, and brought me the phone.  I looked again at my blood covered hands, and used the phone anyway to call Jared.  I was very thankful when he told me that he had not taken the first aid kit, and told me exactly where it was.  I had Joshua go get it for me, and I bandaged James up again.

James bled for a solid hour, during which time I changed his bandage about 5 times, as he bled right through the thick gauze (there was a lot of blood).  When I finally got the bleeding under control, I bandaged him for the last time, then inspected my house.

There was blood everywhere.  James started bleeding in the basement, where he ripped off his band aid.  The new couch, which I bought two days before, had blood on it.  The floor, thankfully cement, was covered in blood.  There was blood on the carpet, starting from the basement stairs and continuing up to my bedroom.  There was even blood on the walls.  Claire told me I had chocolate on the back of my shirt; it was blood as well.

Well, enough talk about blood... I think you get the idea.  Lets move on to this morning.  I think it was a result of  the drama, but last night I couldn't sleep, so I slept in this morning.  I awoke to Claire saying "Mommy, come quickly.  The boys are making a mess!"  Coming from Claire, this is not a good thing.

I rushed downstairs to find a mess.  James had helped himself to raisin bran, which he had poured all over the living room.  Then he had taken the milk, and poured it on the cereal.  He and Joshua were feasting upon a bag of mini marshmallows.

I was (needless to say) disgusted.  I gave the kids clean-up instructions, then locked myself in the bathroom for a shower.  When I got back downstairs, I was not shocked to find the children dancing in the raisin bran, with no progress whatsoever towards cleanup.  James was covered in chocolate, which has been a common occurrence since our return from Germany (I can't seem to hide the candy stash without him finding it again!)  Today, I was pleasantly surprised to realize that he was eating bitter baking chocolate and not the good stuff.

The day progressed along similar lines.  I guess genetics really are strong, because Joshua and Claire used to like to pour cereal and milk on the carpet.  Of course, now they are old enough that it should not still happen.  However, they cannot resist a good roll in the grains, even if their mother is going insane.