Author: lardcupcakes

Every Saturday night Brent and I have the girls set out everything they need so readying on Sunday morning for church is as flawless as possible.

This past Saturday was no exception.

When they went to bed all their Easter dresses, shoes, and accessories were laid out on child specific dining room chairs.

Easy peasy, right?!

And, yes I know that sounds slightly neurotic.

Let us jump to Easter Sunday morning, with T – 10 minutes to leave and Banshee can’t find shorts to go under her dress.

She swears she looked everywhere.

I’m inquiring while half-dressed (a church clothes and pajama combo) and frustrated they aren’t completely ready to leave the house.

“I don’t have any shorts!” Banshee says with an exasperated tone.

“Did you look in your drawer?”

“I diiiiiiiiiiiid!”

Ugh.

Now, I’m even more frustrated.

So, I begin walking with abandon, frustration, and determination to find Banshee a pair of shorts for her dress.

I’m walking quickly, eyeing our baby gate in the hallway (it’s to prevent our dog from roaming around the bedrooms and chewing things), and I notice it’s slightly ajar.

Perfect, I can still keep this quick, frustrated step and open the gate as I walk through.

NEGATIVE.

I walk right to the gate, pull up to unlatch, and instead of walking through the next thing I know I am staring at the hallway floor.

Why is my face so close to the floor?

Why is my butt in the air and my feet not touching the floor?!

Y’all, I just shy of flipped over our hallway gate.

Just imagine the downward dog yoga pose.

That was me but with a baby gate holding up my middle.

And, let’s throw that cherry on top: my kids were right behind me, literally staring at my butt in the air because I walked away frustrated like a child.

I pushed myself off the ground and stood up.

Y’all, I was so mad.

I turn around and looked at my girls, they are horrified and uncertain what to say.

I put my hands on the gate, took a deep breath and said, “Well, I bet mommy looked dumb.”

We all started laughing.

“I guess I deserved that since Mommy acted like a child.”

*continued snickering*

And I have been laughing about that ever since.

Later I asked my girls what they thought when it happened.

They said they were stunned and wanted to laugh but was afraid I was going to be really mad if they responded that way.

Let’s be real, if it were someone else I would have laughed at them too.

We’ve been on a journey with our youngest middle, Banshee.

Over the last few weeks we have experienced many ups and downs with her reactions to things, her inability to bring herself back down, and her skin and auditory sensitivities.

And the instance with the macaroni and cheese was a tipping point: https://lardcupcakes.com/2022/02/23/trauma-seek-and-find/

So, with the continued outbursts and my lacking knowledge and know-how, it was clear it was time to see our art therapist again.

I made an appointment and in we went.

Because it had been a little bit since her last session, Banshee asked me to stay with her for the beginning.

I obliged and used that time to recap her ups and downs with her therapist.

Once she was comfortable, she was fine with me stepping out of the room.

When she was done, I was called back in for a recap.

Banshee excitedly showed me the artwork she did to help her build confidence, which is now taped to her bedroom wall right by her bed – per her request.

Her session recap consisted of recognizing her progress, but also what was really lying beneath what visibly looked like anger.

Her therapist told me that her expression of sadness looks like anger.

She is sad.

It absolutely broke my heart.

She’s been experiencing high levels of sadness and I had no idea, especially when it’s masked as anger.

I honestly thought she was just a really tightly wound kiddo who needed moments to express her anger or frustration, so it was a bit of a surprise that sadness was the real culprit.

My little girl has been carrying around such a big emotion that she neither understands how to manage nor interpret its internal turmoil.

Her therapist continued and informed me that while in their session they dug into those emotions but Banshee said, “I don’t want to feel those big feelings.”

I cried.

How heavy this feeling must weigh to her.

Then the internal questions come.

How much of her feelings are due to me (my parenting)?

Of what part do I need to claim ownership?

When have I minimized her response to something because I couldn’t see the real deal?

*deep breath*

Do I blame myself?

Yeah, some. Specifically with respect to taking responsibility for my part.

Is that wrong?

Not necessarily.

As parents we have an effect on our children and it’s important we take ownership even when it shows our downfalls.

They will learn how to navigate their external and internal world from our modeling.

That coupled with their own personality leaning, they develop an understanding on how to interpret life and its many moments.

As I work on owning my part of her, she is working on understanding, reconnecting, and grounding her emotions.

Raising kids is hard, but worth the work – both for them and you.

*stepping onto my soapbox*

*tapping microphone*

Is this thing on?

*tap tap tap*

Test. 1. 2. 3.

Alright, y’all.

There is a group of words that really frustrate me as a parent.

It’s, “you just wait.”

I’ve seen his countless times on social media, overheard in a conversation, and unfortunately, I’ve also uttered those words.

They’re often said to a parent who is having a rough day and decides to vent.

“My kids made me late because they didn’t want to put on pants.”

“My oldest keeps showing me so much attitude. I’m just sick of it.”

“I feel like I can’t catch a break – we are so busy.”

Or really any other comment made by a tired, frustrated parent.

The friend, or eavesdropping adult responds, “you just wait.”

“You just wait until they can’t decide on what clothes to wear when you need to leave the house.”

What they hear: you don’t have anything to complain about – you don’t really know what it’s like to have children make you late for something.

“You just wait until your child is a teenager.”

What they hear: You don’t know real attitude, so you can’t complain until you have a teenager.

“You just wait until your children are older – then you will really be busy.”

What they hear: what you’re experiencing isn’t true busyness and shouldn’t complain that you’re tired.

Parents hear: you have no right to be frustrated, tired, busy, worn-out, or insert any other adjective.

Why?

Why do we respond with comments similar to those?

How does that serve the tired, frustrated parent who just wanted someone to hear them?

What do they actually need to hear or experience?

They need to feel heard.

They need you to say, “yeah, that sucks and I’m really sorry you feel ________.”

They need you to give them a hug – that is, if they’re a hugger.

I’m not exempt from this either – i’ve responded the same way on countless occasions too.

I challenge you the next time one of your friends takes a moment to confide and vent about their frustrations, you respond with a comment of encouragement and understanding.

*steps off soabox*

Our church put out a Lent Guide for our families.

It’s a weekly set-up where families are encouraged to read about a miracle Jesus did, discussion questions, a catechism, and a prayer point.

So, the last three weeks we have read through the material.

At dinner the other night, I sat down with the girls and read the assigned passage.

It was Luke 5: 17-26, where Jesus heals a paralytic.

I had this unrealistic picture that everyone would be listening intently, soaking in truth – basically doing all the right things.

Basically I was believing all the lies.

Instead, the entire time I read the passage, the girls were fidgety.

Torpedo kept moving around and flinging food.

Tempest kept asking when we’d be done so she could go back outside.

Sprite listened, but all the while sitting at the edge of her seat waiting to make a mad dash to the front door.

And, Banshee kept dashing underneath the kitchen table.

It looked just shy of complete chaos.

Everyone seemed preoccupied.

But, I kept reading.

They heard how the friends of the paralyzed man acted boldly to be with Jesus.

They heard how Jesus commended their faith and forgave their sins.

They heard that the Pharisees called Jesus’ action blasphemous.

They heard how Jesus healed the man.

They heard that Jesus has power over sickness and disease.

They heard that only God can heal what we can’t.

They heard that Jesus heals our disease: sin.

They heard.

Reading this passage brought about some quick discussions regarding the trinity, baptism, and sin.

All of that to say, reading scripture aloud to your children won’t always be picturesque.

But, it’s important because when you do read scripture aloud to them, they hear the Word.

They experience the love and beauty of Jesus.

Side note: please don’t read this post and think I have it all together. This is not a normal rhythm for us, though I desire it to be so.

Instead, I’m using this opportunity to begin a rhythm of family worship.

So, keep sharing the Word with your children.

You will not regret it.

O my people, hear my teaching; listen to the words of my mouth. I will open my mouth in parables, I will utter hidden things, things from of old–what we have heard and known, what our fathers have told us. We will not hide them from their children; we will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the LORD, his power, and the wonders he has done. He decreed statutes for Jacob and established the law in Israel, which he commanded our forefathers to teach their children, so the next generation would know them, even the children yet to be born, and they in turn would tell their children. Then they would put their trust in God and would not forget his deeds but would keep his commands.”

Psalm 78: 1-6

Brent and I have been on a journey with our third, Banshee, trying to discover the root of her sensory issues.

To try and navigate a world with which we are not well-versed, we began participating in art therapy.

My oldest, Sprite, has been going to her art therapist for a few years now.

So, when Banshee started showing signs of some sensory and emotional swings, we added her to the roster.

This has brought a few things to light: she does have some sensory issues, but that she will likely grow out of them.

But, one of the things that threw me off was the root.

Trauma.

I kept thinking, nothing has happened to her.

She hasn’t been gravely sick, she has a good home where her needs are met, etc.

But, she was talking about birth trauma and her first year and a half of life.

My pregnancy with her was riddled with anxiety: I had a hematoma that they constantly monitored (and thankfully didn’t grow); she was breech at 36 weeks and they wanted to schedule a c-section (she turned a couple of days later); while in labor she was in distress so I had to push her out quickly; following birth, I had some postpartum hemorrhaging.

All of that is anxiety, that not only I experienced, but she did as well.

Then when she was 5 months my dad was diagnosed with cancer.

At this time we began numerous travel stints from here to North Carolina where we could be with him, care for him, and bring some extra busyness and distraction to him.

For 15 months following his initial diagnosis, we traveled 12 hours one way with a van loaded with our stuff, including our newly purchased puppy (because, if you’re gonna do something do it right!).

We would stay for 3-4 weeks at a time, then return home for a week.

Large time spans where she was not in her home.

At the end of the 15 months, just after Christmas, he passed bringing insurmountable grief on us all, including a little 18 month old who had no control or understanding of her changing environment.

Do you know what a blanket term for all of this is?

Trauma.

And, here’s the weird thing about trauma.

It doesn’t show up in ways you’d expect.

Trauma doesn’t appear in moments where you can say, “Oh, yeah, that’s because of trauma.”

No, it shows in the regular day to day activities that seemingly make no connection.

One of these instances happened to me a few days ago.

I literally found myself standing at the kitchen sink, doling out freshly made macaroni and cheese, and feeling stumped.

Banshee, just before this instant, was sent to her room because she began screaming after I accidentally poured the cheese into the pot of noodles.

Prior to me draining the noodles, she asked if she could be the one who poured in the cheese and mixed it for everyone.

Sure, no problem.

It came time.

I opened the cheese packet and dumped the cheese into the pot.

Did you catch that – –>I<– dumped in the cheese.

Completely and utterly forgot.

I was in the motion, with it in my hand, and poured it in.

It wasn’t until all of it was sitting in the pot did I realize my mistake.

Crap.

“Sweetie, I am so sorry. I was not paying attention. I apologize. I will make sure the next time you get to pour in the cheese. Would you like to mix it?”

She begins closing up, opposite hands holding tight to her arms, head down, and the whining and wailing began.

“Sweetie, I am really sorry.”

The whining builds.

She’s so upset she cannot move on.

She walks around the corner to the couch where she continues, and even intensifies, her volume.

*deep breath*

“Banshee, go to you room and take a few minutes.”

She very reluctantly gets up, whining as she heads down the hallway where she slams her door and out it came.

Screaming at the top of her lungs.

I don’t have a camera in her room, but I have this feeling she is just standing in the middle of her room, leaning over and pushing out all the cries and screams with every breath intake.

Y’all, she goes like this for 15 minutes.

15 whole minutes.

I literally didn’t know what would be the best course of action.

Should I go in and talk with her?

Should I give her space to feel frustrated and disappointed with me?

I don’t want to rush in every time something doesn’t go her way, or someone accidentally disrupts her expectations or routines.

Yet, she’s also 4, almost 5 if you ask her.

Nonetheless, neither option felt like the right one.

So, I waited.

After some time had passed, she came out of her room and meandered into the kitchen where I was.

She came up close, head down, and said, “Mommy, I really wanted to put in the cheese.”

I picked her up and held her close.

“I know, sweetie. And, I promise I didn’t put in the cheese to hurt you, I really just forgot. I am so sorry. Do you forgive mommy?”

She shook her head up and down.

I held her like that for a few minutes, then set her down so she could eat.

She went to the table and ate her lunch.

As she did, I just looked at her and remembered that she doesn’t know what’s going on in her body.

Her emotions are bigger than she is.

And the trauma from her developing in my belly, to experiencing the extreme sadness of my dad’s journey with cancer and passing, have deeply affected her.

So much so, the accidental mishap of me pouring in the boxed cheese mix into the noodles bring up very large, and uncontrollable emotions and reactions.

Trauma is a finicky topic.

Its triggers are sometimes unknown, particularly with little bodies.

I would actually really love to hear how those of you who’ve experienced trauma, what are instances you’ve seen it appear?

When did its expression or reaction catch you off guard?

What have you learned?

You ever have that feeling that your plans and intentions for the day are going to be completely derailed?

Well, that was me last Wednesday.

I woke up and just felt blah.

That coupled with rain, I wanted nothing to do with anything Wednesday had to offer.

But, our regular routine for Wednesdays are to get up and get moving to BSF.

So, even though I felt blah, and everyone was moving slower than normal, I gave direction to change clothes and prepare to leave.

Everyone was informed about where to find clothes – laundry couch, given a specific timeframe, and very clear expectations.

I *thought* I could step out of the room to fix my hair and change my clothes and the girls would do what I needed them to do.

Mistake.

Nonetheless, I stepped away to do get ready.

This took roughly 15 minutes.

15 whole minutes.

After I was done, I came back into the living room to find Banshee lackadaisically laying on the couch playing with putty.

Y’all.

I’m sure you can imagine my face.

HYSTERIA.

In a raised voice, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! I TOLD YOU TO GET READY?!”

“I am. I aaaaammmmmmm.”

“You most certainly are not getting ready. Get up now and change your clothes. We are now going to be late.”

*she begrudgingly gets off the couch, yet still plays with the stupid putty*

I am now wide-eyed.

“PUT DOWN THE PUTTY AND CHANGE YOUR CLOTHES!”

*insert sloth pace to “look” for clothes*

“I can’t find pants!”

“Look in that (I pointed) basket.”

“There’s no pants!”

I tossed her some pajamas pants. “Here are pants.”

I literally have no cares about what my kids wear these days, as long as it covers all the necessary areas.

“I don’t like these pants! They’re itchy!”

“I don’t have any other pants for you. You will have to wear those.”

Then we begin the pant refusal.

*crying*

*whining*

*removing the pants and refusing to look for something else*

“Banshee, put the pants on we have to go. We are already late.”

“I DON’T LIKE THOSE PANTS!”

“STOP!” I put my hand up.

*she starts crying*

I just sat down and just about decided not to attend my bible study group.

It just felt like a giant fight.

But, as I sat, I really didn’t want to give into the dynamics and allow my kids to have control over what we do or don’t.

I called Banshee over and apologized.

“Mommy is really frustrated right now. I really want to attend my bible study and hear the lecture before my class. But, that doesn’t make it okay for mommy to act that way. Do you forgive mommy?”

*she’s crying and hugging me.”

We reconciled.

I gave everyone else a pep talk and told them to get into the van.

Then, it started all over again.

Now, Banshee can’t find her shoes and she doesn’t like the ones that are available in the shoe bucket.

I find her some other shoes.

Not good enough.

I’m over it.

Again.

“I don’t care what shoes you wear, I just need you to get some shoes on your feet and get into the van!”

“Oooookkkkkaaaaayyyyyyyy-yyyyyaaaaa.”

Can you feel what I might be feeling as this 2 syllable word was stretched into a several syllable word?

Yep.

Ahhhhhhhhh!

I just look at her and said, “No ma’am. Get your shoes on your feet and come out to the van.”

Instead of standing over her I decided to go sit in the van.

Which, if I’m honest, wasn’t completely helpful because I just sat in the driver’s seat and stewed, but at least I wasn’t standing over her and growing in frustration in front of her.

*shrug*

She finally gets into the van and I am FUMING.

We are literally pulling out of our driveway 20 minutes late.

We scurry to the interstate and Tempest and Sprite are quiet.

They feel bad.

Some of their feelings are warranted, but some of that is due my own reaction and guilt I imbued to them.

Winning.

I am totally winning today.

On the way there, I find out a mom friend and her kiddos will not be in attendance.

*curse words*

Banshee puts up such a fight to attend her class and the only silver lining is her friend who attends with her.

And that safety net won’t be there today.

I take a deep breath and warn everyone.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. We are going into the church. I will take you to your classes and everyone will go in without any issue. Okay? Banshee, your friend won’t be there today, but you are still going to class.”

*Banshee begins whimpering*

I knew it.

I knew this would blow our entire attempt at arriving, never mind arriving late.

“Banshee, you can go to class. You are brave and courageous.”

Even as I said this, my insides were screaming, “I just need you to go to class and not throw a huge fit.”

No dice.

She begins crying and saying she wouldn’t go to class.

I had a decision to make.

I knew if I took her inside the church and attempted sending her to class it would probably damage our relationship.

Nothing that would come out of my mouth would be helpful.

It would be a lot of, ‘I don’t care. Get into class coupled with crying and screaming.”

So, do I keep pushing and let the chips fall where they may?

Or do I separate and protect my relationship with Banshee?

I struggled.

I really wanted to attend, but I also didn’t want it to be a huge fight and taint Bible study.

Pause.

“We’re going home. Everyone put your seatbelts on, we’re going back home.”

From the backseat, Tempest squeaks, “I’m sorry mommy.”

“It’s not your fault. This is just better for everyone. Nothing good will come out of trying to get everyone inside.”

The inner struggle.

I felt like I let her win.

She threw a fit so I changed plans.

But, as I sit and reflect I chose to protect my relationship with her.

Not that I need that control, but understanding my relationship with her is more important than attending a Bible study.

The struggles of parenthood are constant.

And, sometimes we have to throw our plans and intentions aside and meet our kids where they need.

Wednesday

Torpedo, Day 1 (Wednesday): runny nose, red under her eyes signifying she wasn’t feeling well, clingy, and overall lethargic. She did have a cough develop overnight.

Thursday

Sprite, Day 1 (Thursday): slight sniffle, fatigue, minor breathing difficulty when exerting too much, and body aches.

Me, Day 1 (Thursday): earache, growing headache, runny nose, and fatigue.

Torpedo, Day 2: persistent fever of roughly 101, fatigue, congestion, clingy, and woke up overnight due to a coughing fit. I sat up with her for a bit. While I did so, I could literally feel heat radiating off her body through her fleece footed pajamas, zipper blanket, through my robe and pants, onto my leg. I didn’t even take her temperature – I knew it would probably be 102/103. But, I am a firm believer in letting my kiddos have fevers – the heat they produce burns up the virus (whichever one they have at the time). I laid her back down and she slept until morning.

Friday

Torpedo, Day 3: No fever, increased appetite, slightly clingy, residual congestion, and overall energy increase, which is the absolute best when you feel like crap. But, anyway.

Sprite, Day 2: fatigue and a little sniffly, all other symptoms were gone. No body aches, or breathing difficulty. She did go to bed with some slight nausea, but, otherwise, alright.

Me, Day 2: chills (so much so I had on a t-shirt, hoodie, pants, socks and shoes, and a very warm robe, and I was still having chills), headache, decreased appetite, neck pain, earache, fatigue, eye-pain, and decent body aches. My hips felt like someone took a sledgehammer to them, and even my fingers ached.

Banshee, Day 1: headache, very light appetite. She exhibited a headache in the late afternoon, and she doesn’t ever get a headache unless she’s sick.

Tempest, Day 1: earache and body aches (specifically said her ankles hurt), no fever.

Brent, Day 1: felt rundown as the day progressed and experieneced some chills.

Saturday

Torpedo, Day 4: remaining congestion, cough, and a continued decline throughout the day. Increased clinginess and lethargy mixed with bouts of energy that wipe her out afterwards. She her fever returned this evening (101) just before bed.

Me, Day 3: I had night sweats – which is just the best thing ever, slight headache, hips still a little achy, but definitely an improvement from the previous day, fingers still ache some, increased congestion, sneezing, and (new this day) sore throat. Let me tell you what is absolutely amazing – sneezing when you have a sore throat. *pain* I also developed a cough on this day.

Sprite, Day 3: said she generally felt better, but I can tell she’s not completely 100%.

Banshee, Day 2: increased body aches and continued headache, no fever. She was overall in good spirits. Before bed this day she said to me, “Mom, my head hurts, but not just my head, it hurts everywhere.” “That’s body aches sweetie. Go lay down and I’ll get some oils for you.”

Tempest, Day 2: increased body aches (said her ankles and knees hurt), earache, and headache. Generally just feeling run down.

Brent, Day 2: run down, chills, and grumpy. He took a home covid test this day, but it came back negative, which I find super weird.

Sunday

Torpedo (Day 5): She was very clingy this morning, felt warm, but not overly so. This should be her last day on quarantine according to the CDC, but if her fever returns again tonight, we will add a day. She also fell asleep while I used my laptop this morning.

Me (Day 4): Body aches are gone, headache less than the previous days, earache still present, and residual congestion (honestly, I’m treating it with everything I can think of, but waiting for it to shift to a sinus infection).

Sprite (Day 4): She woke up this morning and said she felt a little nauseous and run down.

Tempest (Day 3): she said she feels a little better.

Banshee (Day 3): She woke up this morning with a nasty headache.

Brent (Day 3): Slept most of the morning, not counting the couple of times Torpedo busted through our bedroom door, “DADDY! DADDY!” He also lost his sense of taste and smell today.

Monday

Torpedo (Day 0): significantly better spirits today. Still has some residual congestion, but otherwise, she’s moving about terrorizing everything like a regular almost 2 year old.

Sprite (Day 5): better today. She went for a PCR test just to verify she is negative. She is also VERY GRUMPY this day. We have literally spent the past three days with the TV or their Kindles on pretty much non-stop. Technology detoxes are THE BEST!

Me (Day 5): Body aches are gone (thankfully), and I still have some residual sinus congestion and continued earaches. I did get up and exercise this morning, and it zapped all my energy, but I also needed to get moving a little more than from the couch to the bed.

Tempest (Day 4): Also GRUMPFEST 2022 going on with her. Lots of yelling today, she can’t do anything right, she’s a horrible sister, and everything I ask her to do is of the most immense inconsideration on my part.

Banshee (Day 4): WHINY is the key word for her today. When she’s not doing that, she’s fine – playing with slime sand, doing gymnastics, or dancing to music from Encanto.

Brent (Day 4): said he feels worse today than he did the day before. This morning, he, Sprite, and Tempest went to complete a PCR test. He was annoyed because the lady who swabbed his nose, barely put the giant q-tip in there. *eyeroll* What I didn’t realize until yesterday was the PTSD this whole experience has caused him. If you’ve read any of the posts over the summer about his long, scary, and arduous hospital stint, you’ll understand why. But, due to my own selfishness and personality dealing with things like this, I wasn’t sensitive to that for him. https://lardcupcakes.com/2021/05/05/this-day-7-years-ago/

Tuesday

Torpedo (Day -1): She has some lingering congestion and her energy is up and down, but overall, improved.

Me (Day -0): I tested positive on a home test today. What the heck? I still have a lingering earache, which is super annoying, but otherwise, feeling closer to my normal self.

Sprite (Day -0): She received her PCR test results this afternoon: positive. She was disappointed to get this result today. She feels fine. So, to her it felt like a punch in the gut. “I thought I was all done with it!”

Tempest (Day 5): She received her PCR test results this afternoon too: positive. She was also bummed at these results.

Banshee (Day 5): She told me that only her head hurt today, but not her whole body. But, she didn’t want any essential oils, instead, she wanted to pray that her head wouldn’t hurt when she woke up.

Brent (Day 5): he received his PCR test results today: negative. But, yay! He gained his sense of taste back today. He exclaimed, “hey! I can taste this!” Today, however, he is still very rundown and wiped.

Wednesday

Torpedo (Day -3): Significantly improved. She has been up and playing all day. Clinginess less than the day before. Still congested, but I suppose that will be lingering for a bit.

Me (Day -2): I felt more like myself today than I have since coming down with Covid. It was nice to feel normal.

Sprite (Day -2): She’s back to her normal self.

Tempest Day -1): She’s also back to her normal self.

Banshee (Day -1): Same as above.

Brent (Day 0): Said he felt worse today than the previous day.

Remedies

I am not a doctor, I chose on my own accord, to use these remedies to assist with the alleviation of Covid symptoms. I love using essential oils to help the body fight illness.

Earache: Tea Tree – I put two drops on my pinky fingers, rubbed them together, and swabbed the inside of my ear. Note: I did not, nor should you, drop an essential oil directly into your ear; ears are a very sensitive part of your body. I also took a couple of drops and rubbed them down the side of my neck overtop my lymphnodes.

Headache: Normally I would use Frankincense, but I couldn’t find it, so instead, I used lavender. I placed a couple of drops on the back of my hand, then used my other to swipe it off and rub the drops on to my forehead and temples. I also did this with my kiddos, but with an olive oil dilution.

Congestion: either Eucalyptus Globulous (I know, it’s a super weird sounding name), or Ravinstara on the chest and back. These also work great in a diffuser to assist with night congestion.

Overall wellness: Thieves – 2-3 drops on the girls’ spine, rub in, then some olive oil on top and rubbed in. Children need dilution for essential oils. Their skin is significantly more sensitive than ours.

Cough: Cypress is a great cough helper, I usually take a couple of drops diluted in olive oil and rub on their back overtop their lungs. I also diffuse it with Thieves at night.

Immune boosting: I used a product called Immupro for the girls. It’s a chewable immune helper, but it also has melatonin in it (which I am not a fan of using with my kiddos), so I slice the chewable into 8-10 pieces and give them one. It does help them sleep, which is helpful since your body heals when you sleep, and provides them some internal immune help).

Other helpers: pedialyte popsicles are a huge help as they offer electrolytes, fluid, and (bonus) feels like a treat. I also gave Torpedo some generic Zyrtec to help dry up the runny nose, and will continue to do so until her nose slows down.

Nap: I took a nap on Friday, and before I did so, I had Brent rub some essential oils up and down my spine: Egyptian Gold, Thieves, and Cypress, undiluted.

Rice pack: often times when my head hurts a lot, my shoulders begin scrunching up and assisting with the pain. So, a rice pack is a huge helper with pain relief and overall relaxation.

Points to consider: Brent and I are two-dose vaccinated, but not boosted. Our children are not vaccinated.

We attended a funeral visitation last week for a dear neighbor of my in-laws.

Due to location, the girls and I met Brent at the funeral home.

We arrived in our recently vacuumed van:

Anyway, we stroll in with slightly acceptable clothes, dolls, purses, and more.

As we visited with some of the family, this being roughly 15 minutes in, I look to my right a notice a pink fabric on the ground.

I thought to myself, “those look like Sprite’s underwear.”

*dismiss such a thought*

I return to the nearby conversation, but am wondering about this wad of fabric.

*thinking* “I bet it’s a headband. Yeah, yeah, that’s what it is, a headband.”

*growing confidence in newfound claim*

But, something just keeps bugging me.

Why I didn’t do this a few minutes before is well, who knows, I just didn’t.

Call it benefit of the doubt, I suppose.

Anyway, I meander over to take a closer look at this supposed headband.

*wide-eyed*

It’s underwear.

Pink underwear belonging to Sprite.

Why the bleep is there a pair of my kid’s underwear on the floor of a funeral home?

Dumbfounded.

I quickly scoop them up and shove them in my cardigan pocket.

I stand over by Brent and my mother-in-law and nonchalantly say, “there’s nothing like picking up a pair of my kids underwear off the floor of a funeral home.”

*thumbs up*

“It’s the best and not embarrassing at all!”

As I continued to contemplate the reason for this incident, I had a revelation: it was because of Torpedo.

She likes to pack bags with a random assortment of clothing that is piled on or fell off of laundry couch.

And, this time she selected a pair of underwear and stuffed them in Tempest’s purse.

I mean, you never know when you’ll need an extra pair of underwear.

Really, she was preparing to save someone’s day.