Tuesday

Monday was long, right?

How could Tuesday top Monday? I mean, sure it's crazy and we've got a schedule that includes Karate, then Piano Lessons, and dinner in the car as I drive from one to the other.

Unless, of course, I get a text from the Babysitter saying "CALL ME ASAP!!!"

Given yesterday's fiasco with the baby and the phone, I would lean toward not freaking out. Until I read the next text.

"Gunther. Had a seizure. There's blood and I don't know what to do."

Gunther is a dog, people. A pet. A pet who, at 4am, decided to pee in the hallway despite being let out at 10:30pm, a good 2 hours later than usual. And at that moment I seriously wondered if it was time to consider putting him down. It's not like it was my 7-year-old child passing out.

But I rushed him to the vet.

And the vet looked at him and said "He seems fine." And the dog? He was acting fine. I knew he's actually had a seizure because Nate described it to me in great detail, and there was blood in his cone-of-shame, which was coming off tonight anyway. The blood was probably from biting his tongue while he was shaking.

The vet said sometimes dogs will have one seizure and then never have another. Or sometimes they start having them every few days, or every 30 minutes. We'll have to see. Unless we want the expensive bloodwork to start now. I opted to wait.

There was no karate. There was no piano. Instead we had our sandwiches at the table. I let the kids listen / watch  the beginning of Amadeus (after the suicide attempt) while they took a bath.

After the boys were in bed I realized that Andy had a concert tomorrow at 10am and that there was also an after school trip that the boys had to be at by 3pm, which was awkward and involved picking all three kids up early. (Because they don't let you pick up after 2:20. If you have to be someplace at 3:15, you need to get picked up an hour earlier. Even if it's down the street.)

Then I ate cheese and had a bowl of cereal.

Tomorrow will be better, right? It has to be.