So this morning

I'm noticing that I start a lot of my blog posts with "so". I'm trying to figure out why. I *think* it might be that because I know like 99% of my bloggy readers-my mom, my sister-the-mother-of-five-boys-may-the-lord-have-mercy-on-her-and-her-home, my inlaws, Steph, Shosh, Elisha, Chaviva, who I don't know in real life but we'll go with it b/c she knows Rach, and Rach, and occasionally Amy. So I kind of feel like I'm chatting with my friends. So I say...so....like we're just picking up our conversation where we left off last.

So...

this morning as I as walking running back into the house from taking Dovi to the bus in my pajamas, salt encrusted Uggs (HELP! How do I clean them and get them back to their previously pristine black-ness?), and Benjie's dress coat (the only thing long enough to cover my pajama pants), and his winter hat and gloves, I noticed some yellow spots on the snow covered ground that had been so lovingly shoveled by ME thanks to Benjie's unfortunate illness this week. We are NOT going to discuss men and illness. But suffice it to say that it has been a long week at Casa P. And all you wives know what I mean.

Back to the yellow spots.

I was like:

"OH CRAP! Why the heck did someone let their dog pee all over my nicely shoveled sidewalk?"

Then I looked a little closer. The little yellow-ish droplet like spots went all the way up to my house. And in the door. And on the front hall floor.

To which you all are not thinking that my lovely son peed the whole way to the bus and is now sitting in pish-sodden clothing which is possibly freezing to his body due to the unfathomable cold that has gripped Chicago.

Then I realized. It was not pish. It was formula. Which meant one of a few possible options had occurred:

1. Dovi's g-tube had popped, his button had come out of his body (so not a big deal, chickadees. Happens a few times a year.), and his feeding pump was now feeding the floor of the bus through the now-deflated-out-of-Dovi's-tummy-button which was dangling from the end. And Dovi now had a small hole in his stomach which needed to be addressed ASAP lest the whole close up and we would get to spend the morning in the ER.
2. There was some type of hole in the tubing. Doubtful but possible.
3. The med port of the extension (that just sounded like a whole bunch of blahblahblahblah to most of you. Much like what the car repair man/appliance repair man says to me) had opened. So no big deal, we just need to close it. Otherwise, like option 1, we are feeding the bus
4. The extension tubing has detached from the bag tubing (the whole blahblahblahblah thing again. Go with it.), feeding the bus again.

Any way you look at it, it was messy and not good. So I ran to the kitchen, still in said coat and hat, and grabbed my trusty "P for Dummies" binder (we can discuss the P for Dummies binder at a later date. Yes, I have issues. But it makes our lives much, much, much easier. I need to update it, though), paged quickly to the Dovi section, found the bus company phone number, and breathlessly explained to them that they needed to call Dovi's bus to come back home. She was all like "They can't". To which I told her that I realized that my son's feeding tubing was malfunctioning. She sounded a bit scared and confused, but a minute later, Elisha, who had been dispatched to the front window to watch for the bus, called me that they were back.

I grabbed a kitchen towel and ran out there. Luckily, it was only option 4. The two parts of the tubing had detached. I reattached. I kissed the boy. I ran inside the house.

This has taken me no less than 20 minutes to recount for you all, but the entire event was over in less that five minutes.