Part 6 (1/2)

As if getting into the clean diapers wasn't enough, they had ripped off their own diapers, along with the accompanying p.o.o.p.

Breathe, Kate, breathe, I had to remind myself. I had to remind myself.

With the kids finally cleaned up and a fresh diaper on each one, I left them in the bathroom while I ran down to my bedroom to grab the camera. When I walked back into the war zone-their bedroom-I surveyed the damage and took photos. I still couldn't believe it: Dressers were knocked over with drawers spilling out their contents. Light bulbs and lamps were broken, which is where the gla.s.s came from. It was nothing short of a miracle that no one was hurt or cut.

Why hadn't I heard anything? I had been downstairs the entire time! How could this have happened without me knowing?

”Is that a hole in the wall?” I realized they had even peeled a section of paint and dry wall off the wall. I started to freak out, but consoled myself by remembering that no one was hurt or trapped under the dresser. This could have been disastrous.

I knew we really should have been downstairs eating dinner already in order to be ready by the time Jon got home, but this was going to take hours to clean. Exhausted and overwhelmed, I called my dear friend. ”Carla, you're not going to believe this...” Carla has rescued me more times than I can count and offered to come over to help.

I picked my way over to the dressers and pulled out clothes for church and shut the door on my way out. I didn't see the room in that shape again. Carla and her husband cleaned the entire room by the time we got home, and it was as good as new-with only the patch of missing drywall to remind me.

Notice the missing drywall.

One night, when the little kids were two and a half, we were all upstairs in the nursery playing before bed. I was exhausted as usual and was laying on the floor while they were playing on top of me. The girls would play with my hair while the boys drove their trucks on my back and arms and legs, like I was a highway-a toddler ma.s.sage. Hannah came over with a heavy plastic piggy bank and dropped it on the corner of my eye and eyebrow. I felt pain shoot through me as I gripped my head.

Blood was everywhere, and I thought I needed st.i.tches. I figured we couldn't go to the hospital. Who would we get to watch the kids so Jon could take me? The cut ended up not being as bad as I thought, so I just put pressure on it and then a pressure bandage. I was okay, though I have a nice scar. Hannah felt sad that she gave me an accidental ”boo boo” and offered me ”cake.”

Between injuries and b.l.o.o.d.y noses, I have to do some kind of first aid or get out the Band-Aids every single day. Blood and injuries no longer cause panic. They are as normal as mealtime!

Another time after we put the little kids to bed, Jon and I were in the garage opening and organizing fan mail and packages. Cara and Mady came down and said someone was crying. We asked if they could go see what was wrong; but after ten minutes went by, they didn't come back to tell us what happened. So we went upstairs to check it out, thinking the girls just settled whoever it was back to sleep.

They were near Leah's toddler bed, trying to calm her. I don't know why they didn't come back and tell us what was wrong. When I asked them, they said, ”Mommy, we felt something wet on her forehead when we were putting her back into bed, and thought it was just tears.” We figured Leah had thrown up so Jon grabbed a flashlight and went in to investigate. He quickly realized it was blood, so he grabbed Leah while I went in and started cleaning up.

The blood was everywhere! I thought she had had a b.l.o.o.d.y nose, until Jon realized when he was bathing her that Leah had a huge gash on her forehead! It was about a half inch long, and while not deep, it was gaping open. I put a pressure bandage on it, gave her Tylenol for the pain, and let her sleep in our room that night so we could keep an eye on it.

In the morning, the wound was still weeping blood a little bit, so I called a neighbor who was an emergency room nurse to come over and take a look. I didn't want to subject Leah to st.i.tches on her head unless it was absolutely necessary as it would cause her more pain and agony. My neighbor said Leah could probably use a st.i.tch, she wasn't sure, so she got some Steri-Strips and we bandaged her together. We kept the wound clean and covered it in antibiotic cream.

I still don't know what happened to Leah, and that left me a bit unsettled. But G.o.d knew exactly what happened, and I knew he loved Leah more than we did-which was mind-boggling, because I love her a lot. I prayed that he would protect her little head and help it to heal without a scar and without infection. Mostly I was thankful he did not let something worse to happen to her. She healed beautifully.

Leah's boo boo.

During the first winter in the Elizabethtown house, the flu was going around in our family. One afternoon all the kids were settled into their beds for a nap, and Jon was out doing errands with Cara and Mady. Alexis, who was the last one to get the flu, was resting in a makes.h.i.+ft bed on the floor of our bedroom while I was at the computer. Sitting with my back toward her, I began to hear alarming sounds. I turned to see her attempting to cry with each cry being interrupted by a strange jerking movement. Each lurch would cause her to cry louder and harder. As I rushed to her side, I saw fear in her eyes. After feeling her burning hot forehead, I realized she was having a febrile seizure-something I had walked through with parents many times on the phone when I worked as a nurse in the pediatric office.

I had no idea these could be so scary, and I fought to keep my emotions at bay. It didn't work though, as my mother-mode quickly overtook my nurse-mode. I frantically tried to call Jon back home, and when I couldn't reach him, I then called a friend who wasn't available. When panic took over completely, I ended up calling 9-1-1. I knew there was nothing they could do-I could only put her in a lukewarm bath to get her fever down-but I needed rea.s.surance that I was doing everything I could do. Alexis was limp between her intermittent jerking as I sat on the floor rocking her. When I saw the whites of her eyes as they were rolling back into her head, I was completely terrified and started sobbing.

In the end, I was able to cool Alexis down gradually in the bathtub so her seizure stopped, and I knew it was now safe to give her Motrin to help ensure that her temperature would return to normal. She was much better by the time the emergency crew arrived and Jon got home. This truly was one of the scariest times I've experienced as a mom.

I recall another health concern when Hannah started getting headaches when she was two. Every so often she would come down the stairs in the morning complaining of a stomachache and headache. At first I didn't know what was really happening, but when her headaches persisted, I took her to the pediatrician, who ordered a CAT scan and confirmed Hannah was having migraines. The doctor explained that a migraine could be triggered by getting woken up too early. Hannah has always slept in later than Alexis and Leah, and they would often wake her up in the morning, which sometimes triggered the migraines. When the migraines came, we figured out a routine: I would give her Tylenol, which she promptly threw up; she would then fall asleep for an hour or two and wake up completely better.

Her headaches continue every so often but at least now I know what to do.

I have to confess that I didn't handle all this chaos well all the time. One infamous Friday in October, we started out with the usual stuff: diaper changes, breakfast, playtime in the bas.e.m.e.nt, and lunch. Then I put the little kids in their cribs for naps, got the girls off to school, cleaned up, and ate my own lunch while watching a cooking show on TV. The awful part came after the nap.

I went up to get the little kids at 3:30 as usual. Hannah and Leah were still sleeping so I let them sleep while I got the other four and we went downstairs to wait for the school bus. The girls were still asleep when I went back up at 4:30, but I decided to wake them up anyway. I went over to Leah and I couldn't believe my eyes! She was asleep with p.o.o.p from head to toe and all over her crib! p.o.o.p was mashed into the bottoms of both feet and on her sheet, blankets, a book in her crib-some was even flung to the edge of Alexis' crib.

I was so mad and woke her up with my angry voice. I put her in the bathtub and stood her in an inch of water to soak her feet and showered her. Poor little Leah was shaking, as I cleaned her up. Then I had to clean up her crib. All this happened after the other four had gotten into the tissue box on Grandma's desk (again!), and Alexis had gotten into the baby wipes in the bathroom and was trying to flush them down the toilet, which was completely clogged at this point.

As soon as I had Leah's mess cleaned up, I realized I didn't know where Alexis was, again. When I called her, she came running into the room, soaking wet. She had made a pool of water on the kitchen floor with the waterspout from the freezer door. I seriously lost it, so I put her in her crib until Jon got home and told him he could get the ”monster” and feed her dinner. I was so frustrated! Of course she's not a monster, but she was surely capable of monster messes and I didn't know what to do at that point.

I felt so guilty about how I handled everything. After everyone was in bed, I journaled about the events and prayed for patience-again. It was late and I didn't know quite how cheery I would be in the morning when I greeted them, but I knew all their smiling faces would help. And of course, their ”Hi Mommy” voices would make me melt. Thank goodness for their grace!

Every mom knows what it's like when something unexpected interrupts her day. But with eight kids under six years old, a single event could change my day from calm to chaotic. With two six-year-olds and six two-year-olds in one house, one event would trigger seven others until the neatly stacked dominoes of the day toppled into a heap.

Wednesday, February 28, 2007, was yet another one of those days. Although it wasn't funny at the time, I can now laugh about the series of events that took place that afternoon.

The morning went smoothly, and I was feeling quite accomplished. After lunch, the older girls went off to school and the little kids went down for a nap. For weeks, I had been waiting for a conference call with the Discovery Health Channel, the executives in charge of our show. It was scheduled for that afternoon.

Promptly at two o'clock, I called the number I had been given. Each of the partic.i.p.ants on the call introduced themselves, and we'd just gotten into the heart of the discussion when the phone beeped. I glanced at the caller ID and saw it was the girls' school on the other line. It was 2:17, and there wasn't a good reason for them to be calling me unless there was trouble.

”Excuse me, but my daughters' school is calling and I need to take this call. I'll be right back.” I switched to the other line.

”h.e.l.lo?”

”Hi, Kate. This is Mady's teacher. I'm sorry to bother you, but Mady has a b.l.o.o.d.y nose.”

I could hear Mady crying hysterically in the background.

”She's really upset and she wants to come home. Do you want to talk to her?”

”Yes, please put her on.”

The sound of Mady's crying intensified as she got closer to the phone. ”Mady, Mady, calm down. Are you okay? Tell me what happened.” She was crying so hard I couldn't understand what she was trying to say. I quickly realized I couldn't do anything over the phone. ”Listen, Mady, I will come and get you just as soon as I can find someone to sit with the little kids. Please calm down. I am coming to get you.”

The Discovery Health executives would have to understand. I clicked back to the conference call. ”I'm sorry but I am going to have to reschedule this meeting.” I hung up before they had a chance to reply and frantically dialed neighbors to get someone to stay with the six. For normal families, it would be as simple as putting a kid or two in a car seat to make a quick run to the elementary school. But for me, it meant waking six kids from a nap, changing six diapers, and trying to buckle six crying babies into six car seats by myself. It just wasn't practical. After a few calls, my sister-in-law was available. Thank goodness!

While I waited for her to get there, I went to the bathroom to comb my hair. I wasn't one of those people who had to get dolled up just to leave the house; at that time I often left without any makeup. Getting pretty took time I just didn't have then. But when I looked in the mirror that afternoon, my appearance scared even me. I jumped into the shower and did a ten second rinse off. I barely dried off and got dressed while I was still wet.

When my sister-in-law arrived, I rattled off instructions while grabbing the keys and heading to the door. My imagination got the worst of me on the ride to school. What condition would Mady be in when I got there?

As I ran into the school building, the sight of Mady surprised me. She was sitting in the office smiling and apparently happy. I think the whole commotion embarra.s.sed her. I felt so bad for her. I hugged her, signed her out, and took her home.

By the time I got home, the little kids were already stirring. My sister-in-law slipped out, and I left the kids in their beds a few minutes longer while I got Mady settled. Fortunately, her nose had stopped bleeding. I just needed to clean her up.

After I got the little kids up and changed their diapers, I did something I rarely did-I offered them a snack. It was already four o'clock. Usually, dinner was cooking before then, but in all the excitement, I hadn't even started preparations. While they ate, I washed the chicken b.r.e.a.s.t.s and started broiling them in the oven. I filled a large pot with water for the pasta and started grabbing the ingredients I would need. I made trip after trip to the pantry as I consulted the recipe. I think there were about nine hundred ingredients on the counter by the time I finished.

On one of these trips, I heard Leah say her belly hurt, but I didn't pay much attention. I concentrated on finis.h.i.+ng my already-late dinner, and I was only half listening. But when I heard a choking sound, I stopped what I was doing and looked down to see Leah lying on the s.h.a.g rug in front of the kitchen sink, inches from my feet. She was vomiting. Not once, not twice, but what seemed to be a continuous stream. I ran over to her and sat her up so she wouldn't choke. I tried to hold her over the rug so that the liquid, if not the smell, would be at least somewhat contained.

When Leah finished, I stood to rinse out the sink. (When we moved into that house, I had the old sink taken out and an industrial sized sink put in; I called it the tub because it was larger than anything you would normally see in a residential kitchen.) I scrubbed that sink, then filled it with clean water. I lifted Leah to the counter and carefully peeled off her vomit-drenched clothing and put her in the ”tub” to clean her up.

I sent Hannah to get a bucket. Cara went to get a towel. And Mady and Alexis got a clean outfit for Leah. Later, I chuckled. I knew that I must have been desperate to send those two girls together as they were not the combination to get anything in an emergency. But I didn't have a choice.

While naked Leah sat splas.h.i.+ng in the sink, I turned the nearly blackened chicken and made sure the noodles didn't overcook. Leah had a blast playing while I alternated between was.h.i.+ng her and continuing the dinner preparations.