Our friends got results about what is happening with their little girl yesterday. These are friends that we have known since we were stationed together at Tech School in Texas together five and a half years ago. I was one of the first people to meet their daughter when she was born down there. We lived next door to each other then, as we do now. We were supposed to leave at the same time to move to England (yeah it is weird that we kept getting the same orders). They are no longer moving to England with us. Their daughter has Leukemia.
Right now other than emotional support we can't do much to help them. Their other 3 kids cannot come to stay at our house until KiKi and I are both well. There is no need in them picking up what we have and passing it along to their sister. Both my husband and I wish we could do more. The situation just sucks all around (this is me changing the subject before I get really worked up again).
Lastnight I thought all the drama was over for the day, both kids were asleep, I was watching my TiVo'd episode of Rasing the Bar, and oh I was so wrong. I hear LaLa start screaming from her bedroom. I really don't think much of it because she always screams when she wakes up for no reason at night. I go up there to get her back to sleep and she is covered from head to foot in puke. Smite me, oh Mighty Smiter! Seriously? Are you kidding me? Bathwater is immediately run, call to The Man is made because he is off with his buddy playing racketball, bedsheets are stripped off the bed. The Man arrives back home right after I put LaLa on the couch to watch some T.V. while I finish cleaning up her bed. Oh man it was a mess. I get LaLa back in bed after the show she is watching on Noggin ends. It is now 11:30 at night and I am beat like a red headed step-child.
I hear ya KiKi, I hear ya.
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