Too Soon.

I cried Uncle too soon. That'll teach me.

Thursday afternoon, daycare called frantically and said Finley had a terrible rash and needed to go to the emergency room. I was overloaded at work after weeks of the solo daycare scramble, and Seth was finally back on his feet. I called his office and begged him to handle the latest crisis. No problem, he told me, and reported from the truck that Finley had a grand total of about two spots and seemed fine. He'd get her a doctor's note and have his doctor take a look at his leg since he was going to be there anyway, if I'd meet them at the hospital with takeout. Sounded like not a bad way to spend the evening.

By the time I got there both kids had tested positive for strep and Seth had just been informed he needed to go to Walter Reed for surgery the next day. I didn't even know what to say. This was a bridge too far.

So I did the only thing there was to do. Sat down on the floor of the emergency room and had a deep-breaths picnic dinner while Finley stuck stickers on the floor and Ford threw successive temper tantrums because I wouldn't let him stab people with scalpels. It was not any of our finest moment. I think Seth and I were both in shock.

We did get (relatively) lucky and Seth's doctor, who had been on his surgical team at Walter Reed and is doing a fellowship here, agreed to do the surgery at Keller and let Seth wait until the next day to be admitted.

I took the day off to administer antibiotics and attempt to work from home, and we went to see Seth post-surgery. Ford ate his dinner. Both kids loved the latex gloves. And the hospital turned out to be a hit.

Our weekend was a blur of antibiotics (everyone) and recovery (Seth, who checked himself out of the hospital and drove himself home while I was at the nature museum with the kids Saturday.)

We watched the Army game and ate frozen food (because seriously, grocery shopping is not an option right now) and Seth and I stayed up way too late thanks to USC's double overtime win against the Longhorns.

And Sunday, when the kids seemed to be feeling better, I took them apple picking at Penning Farms.

 Which had this ridiculous cow milking exhibit

and a terrible mini train that Ford made us ride approximately 27 times.

And that was before the epic war over who got to hold the apple bag that neither kid could actually carry.

We're taking it one day at a time. Seth is a superhero who eschewed pain meds and got up Monday morning, threw his wheelchair in the back of his truck, and pulled a full, regular day teaching classes.

I, on the other hand, am cape-less and floundering, as I'm the SJA in my boss's absence this week and the schedule is daunting even without the daycare dash on both ends and two not entirely healthy kids.Lots of Lean Pockets in our future.

The specter of six more wheelchair weeks is making both of us a little queasy. But we're hanging in there. Luckily interspersed with the "how on earth are we going to pull this off?" moments, there are an awful lot of joyful ones.

Before things went to hell in a handbasket last week, Finley had her first ballet class, which was unspeakably adorable if completely chaotic.

Ford crashed it and acted terrible.

We took the kids to branch week, during which each branch sets up sets up military equipment and vehicles to show off their capabilities in advance of the cadets' branch selections, and it was a blast. Finley now pretends everything is a gun, and yesterday morning asked me "can we have Bradley, Mom?"

No. No, we cannot. But it was a much-needed laugh, as were these favorites from the week.

 

And this gorgeous picture I took of Finley between ballet and a Corbin Forum event I dragged her to. It's a nice reminder that whatever else we may be at the moment ("total shitshow" comes to mind), we are lucky. 

Uncle.

It never rains but it pours.

Seth got out of a wheelchair (after more than three weeks) Thursday. Finley and Ford, who used it as a jungle gym, are the only ones who will miss it.

Friday Ashton, one of Seth's best friends, and his girlfriend and 5 year old arrived for game day Saturday. Game day with the whole fam was... exhausting.

And it culminated in Finley projectile vomiting Dorito chunks all over both Seth and the Nichols' truck.

To top off 3+ weeks of solo daycare pickup and dropoffs and kid-wrangling and chores, Sunday at 4am Seth left for three days in Oregon for Stan's Black & Gold Classic event. Both kids spiked fevers and puked in bed immediately after he left. I was almost relieved it hadn't been the Doritos.

I took Finley to work yesterday, since I didn't have enough notice to get a nanny and she was still super sick. Although not too sick to watch "Trolls" and take meetings.

Still- it was an incredibly long day, and I am currently checking my phone in meetings just waiting for daycare to call me to say somebody is sick today. UNCLE!!!!!

We're making it work, but it's not always pretty.

What it IS, is all-hands-on-deck

hilarious

heart-warming

 

occasionally death-defying

 madness.

 With a fair number of frozen pizza nights and light saber attacks thrown in for good measure.

"We wouldn't change a thing" may not be strictly accurate, but life is good. If a little crazy.

A fond farewell to summer.

We took this picture at Croton Point Park last year on Labor Day, having just completed our move to West Point, still swimming in boxes, and juggling school registration and inprocessing and new jobs and being suddenly without our parents with our new family of four in our new home. We had no idea what the next year would hold.

And it's been incredible. We've had such an idyllic year in this gorgeous place, which has afforded us the opportunity to put in lots of family time and go to Army football games and eat hot dogs in NYC and hike the Catskills and- finally, as of May- enjoy being long commute-free. It's hard to believe a whole year has gone by.

A year later, our "beach time" involves significantly more sand eating, and hair pulling, and begging for snacks, and beating one another with shovels.

We wouldn't change a thing.

Summers up here are special, and I was a little nostalgic saying goodbye to our last (only, really) full one here. We sent it off in style, with one last (chilly already, but exuberant) visit to our favorite swimming hole,

the first Army football game of the season,

new bikes,

the children's museum and German beer with friends,

and one last trip to Round Pond. Complete with giant, totally unauthorized unicorn.

And a chaotic game of "duck duck goose."

We also squeezed in family nap time on a rainy Sunday

and I finally made it with the kids to the Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary. Which was super crazy vegan, but they had a great time playing with the goats. Until one of them butted Finley, who totally deserved it- but still...

It was a fond farewell to what's been a terrific summer. Fall's usually my favorite, but upstate New York doesn't mess around with season changes and it's already abruptly jacket weather. I wasn't quite ready, but we're bracing for football and pumpkin flavored everything and getting excited about fall foliage.

In the meantime, I have a bunch of favorites from our last summer weekend.

There's this one, of Finley becoming the Women's Army Basketball team mascot at the game Friday.

And this one, of the little terrorists riding the neighbor's plasma car together, in a rare sweet moment which devolved into bloodletting shortly after being documented.

There's the fact that the best taco shop in upstate New York is near our swimming hole and yet Finley insisted on the abysmal pizza place next door and Ford seemed to love it.

And my excitement about the Spouses' Club "Super Sign Up" event on Thursday night, which was basically a repeat of my sorority days 20 years ago.

Or this sweet moment. In which Finley, licking the brownie batter and smearing it all over her face, suddenly burst out with "I really love you, Mom."

Chocolate is our love language.

Happy fall, y'all.