I'm surprised I dreamed at all last night....my son has some molars moving into position so that they can force the baby teeth out and it's just not made for a pleasant atmosphere in our home. My child goes through spells of incessant crying and if that doesn't break your heart, it's almost topped by the frustration of not being able to do anything about it except alternate Tylenol and Motrin. And the worst spells are always at a time when you can't actually give him anything.
Oh, and school starts tomorrow. And we can't take medicine—including Tylenol or Motrin—to the school to be given to him as needed unless we have a Doctor's note. Because things are just that ridiculous these days.
Even more frustrating is that my husband took him to the dentist on Friday to get a tooth checked where the cap fell off. I told the husband to make sure they check his other teeth because he'd been having pain throughout the ride side of his upper teeth. They told my husband to bring him back if he has more.
Instead of doing something about it then.
Because, you know, that's another copay and time off of work, and now with school starting, time out of class as well.
Anyway. So I woke up at 2 a.m. last night and barely made it back to sleep when The Boy woke me up at 4 a.m. asking for medicine and his for stuffed animal that has a heat pack in the belly to be reheated for him. And then I was almost 6 a.m. getting back to sleep.
So I'm surprised I dreamed at all.
My sleep tracker says I got 12 hours of sleep though; in response I called my sleep tracker a name that can't be repeated here.
On to the dream.
Apparently a boy in my son's class died after an altercation with one or several students. My son and five others were taken into custody and not allowed to speak to us or see us until it was all resolved and they determined what happened. Color this Mama concerned and furious. It was not pretty.
Fortunately, Justin Kiriakis was designated to represent the boys in this matter which made me feel better because I knew that if he could get Sami off on Murder charges, he could solve this matter with a pack of eight year old boys.
In the end, after interrogations, statements, and polygraphs my son and four of his classmates were released to us. We then found out what was going on and a vague amount of what had happened. Apparently a boy named Christopher picked a fight with the victim, Michael, and things went from bad to worse and my child and his classmates were involved in the fight only because they were trying to intercede on Michael's behalf.
Regardless, we still got a bill for the attorney fees. Since Mr. Kiriakis represented the boys in a group, he billed it all on one bill for $401 so I was sending letters out to the other families letting them know what part their share of the bill amounted to.
Instead of typing it, I was handwriting it like a homework assignment and I had to show my work to let them see how I came about the figures that we were each paying. You would think it would be simple, $401 divided by 6 is $66.83 (I was going to pay the 2¢ left over), but for some reason when I was writing it out it was this super-complex math equation. I kept messing up on the duplicate letters (remember, I was handwriting them so they would look pretty) so I had to keep starting all over.
It was one of those dreams I was all too happy to wake up from.
Ashley is a thirty-something wife and mother of two boys. She enjoys spending time with her family, as well as reading and decorating their home. Her blogging adventures began in 2006 as a single mother and have carried on through marriage and a new life with a husband, a ten-year-old, and an infant.