Peter and I didn't stay in the snow very long. We enjoyed the warm fire instead. He was enjoying it, too, can't you tell?
John Paul didn't get to sled, but he was ready just incase...
After sledding, we enjoyed the fire and just hung out while the boys
My aunt and uncle and cousin were also in town, so that evening we had them over for a few snacks and a good visit. So much fun!
Then came the night. While our little champ of a baby slept through the night, the older two each woke four times screaming as if they had just been scared out of their minds. Once they were settled for good at 4:30 in the morning, the power went out. So, up we were to start a fire again (thank goodness for that!).
We hadn't gotten groceries the night before because we thought we'd just order breakfast. Well, the breakfast place's power was out, too. No worries. In three hours it was back on, and Jeremy was on his way to pick up some food. As he pulled out of the driveway, John Paul woke up screaming and just as I went into the room to grab him, I heard an alarm that I thought was the boys and their play again. As the older two started to run around screaming/crying with Carter yelling "Oh, dear, dis scares me!" I realize it wasn't their doing at all. Instead, it seems as if the gusts of wind had blown the flue to the fireplace partially closed, and ashes were blowing in the house! The security/fire alarm people called to ask for the password to shut the noise off and send the firetruck our way. Luckily amidst the screaming, I convinced her we were just fine and didn't need any assistance, as I called Jeremy to say, "COME BACK!"
He arrived shortly thereafter, and gave Peter a hug only to noticed he felt a little warm. So, off I went to find a thermometer and a little medicine in the big metropolis and came back to find out he was a little over 102. In a hurried attempt to get him in a cool bath before our appointment with urgent care, he had a little accident all over the bathroom door while waiting to be cooled off. In the meantime, Carter needed to go as well, and he didn't quite keep it in the toilet either. Back to Peter. Our ever-so-pleasant attempt to get his fever down only made him have the shakes, so I loaded him up for a trip to urgent care at the base of the slopes. When we arrived and saw a skier on a stretcher, we realized we weren't too bad off.
He had a sore throat and swollen tonsils and was told to drink and take tylenol. Done and done.
I came back to the cabin to a frazzled Dad. The smoke alarm and ashes had filled the cabin again....not once, but twice. In an effort to air out the cabin the doors had to be opened, and two little boys couldn't resit throwing the toys in the snow (these pictures were before we knew Peter was sick - in an effort to have them both catch pneumonia...anyone need mothering tips?)...
While Peter rested, Jeremy took Carter sledding again and had a blast. I tried to get all of the ashes out and the cabin smelling more like a home and less like a bar-b-que pit, and then, bathroom accident number three happened. It was the little guy's turn. We washed that load of laundry and got everything back in order to make the trek home, woke Peter up, loaded an older one who didn't want to leave, and put the car in drive with me praying we made it home without anyone getting sick.
Peter whimpered like a puppy all the way through the mountain pass. Carter slept with his blanket over his head yelling at Peter to be quiet, and at the very end, Carter yelled, "STOP! I NEED TO THROW UP!" We stopped at quick as we good, and then he screamed he didn't want to get out and fell right back asleep. Weird.
We made it home.
The next morning, Peter was worse, and we made another trip to our doctor to find he had a terrible throat and an ear infection. Maybe that's why he wasn't acting good through the mountains? Maybe the no gloves and playing in the snow made it worse? Maybe I didn't think of any of that. Brilliant.
R&R? Not completely. But, it is a funny memory, and we so enjoyed the new scenery and a good weekend together.
