Our family was fortunate this year to get a full
5 days off and spend it in the mountains.
We had two family reunions back to back (on Mitch's side), and they were awesome! We saw our siblings & cousins who live out of state in Utah & Alabama.
The only
not-awesome part was that
1/3 of the grandkids were puking out their guts at the same time. By the end of it all, I'm pretty sure at least 1/2 of everyone in attendance contracted the flu at some point, because we were still passing it around for days after we left. It was horrible.
On
Monday of the reunion,
my baby started throwing up. I thought he'd be okay, but by night fall, he wasn't holding ANYTHING down.
When he wasn't throwing up fluids, he was dry heaving, and throwing up bile. It was so continuous, too. I was afraid he had an internal blockage (like maybe he swallowed a rock or something) and that he would possibly throw up blood eventually because he was vomiting so much. Then he started having diarreah, too. I know someone who lost their child because they were so dehydrated from having diarreah & throwing up at the same time (it happened fast, too--he got sick and I want to say in a day or two, he passed away).
So, here we were at least an hour and a half away from the nearest hospital, it was the middle of the night, and my baby was so sick;
I didn't know what to do. He had already had a priesthood blessing in which he was told he would be protected from getting dehydrated, and my bro-in-law, Kit had driven into town to get some Pedialyte. So, fortunately that gave me some peace of mind that things would probably be okay,
but there was no end in sight. Mitch took the first shift watching movies & taking care of Miles. Around 2:30am, he came to our cabin and it was my turn to stay up with the baby. At this time, Emmett was burning up, too, and Mitchell had left the Tylenol at a different cabin. He was exhausted,
so even though I NEVER walk between the cabins by myself when it's dark, I told myself I would be okay, and I could be brave to save my kids (plus I needed to relieve myself, so that was double motivation). I grabbed the flashlight, and hustled through the woods to the next cabin, a distant 50 yards away. With each step I felt safer and safer.
Trotting along I grew more confident by the second. Until it happened. Placing my foot on the steps of the green cabin,
out of the darkness came a low, rumbling, man-like voice. It said something short, but inaudible. I didn't know where he was as my flashlight only illuminated 3 feet in front of me. In that moment, all I could remember were the stories my father told me in my childhood of his Uncle Elwood experiencing creepy moments when he was with his horses, alone in the woods (even the horses were unsettled by their experience).
I didn't hesitate to stare Sasquatch in the eyes--I didn't want to see him. Screaming, I ran up the steps, grabbed the door of the cabin, slammed it behind me, ran into the bathroom, and slammed that door, too. By now, I was already talking myself out of what happened. I knew whoever said whatever it was that they said, was probably laughing their heads off, but I still wasn't going to walk back to my cabin alone in case there was still a stranger outside, lurking in the darkness. Startled by the commotion, my sister-in-law, Tina ran in to see if everything was okay.
I explained the situation, and she said she would watch me from the steps as I walked back. How convenient, right? She would stay in a safe location and watch me get mauled by a beast as I went back alone. That wasn't good enough for me. Still needing to get the Tylenol to save my children, I walked into the kitchen, and who was there?
None other than my
smirking father-in-law lying on the couch.
In his raspy, low & rumbly, morning voice, he repeated the 4 words I had previously been unable to identify, "Can I help you?" You cannot believe my relief in knowing that it WASN'T Big Foot who was lurking outside with malicious intent. But as punishment for
scaring the weebie-ba-jeebies out of me, I made him walk me back to my cabin. Apparently Dale wakes up 2 or 3 times a night, and he happened to be out on the porch looking at the stars at exactly the moment I was hurrying up the steps. Gee whiz.
If he had been wearing a hairy outfit, I'm sure I would have peed my pants.
Making it back to our little tool bunk cabin safely, I finished the night out with the sick children. I was actually grateful for the comic relief, but I was still scared for my baby. I don't think I've ever prayed so hard in my life. As the night wore on, I finally prayed that my baby would be able to stop throwing up like this by morning. He threw up for the last time a little before 5am, and finally was able to keep some Pedialyte down and fall asleep for a couple hours.
A peace came over me as I looked across the land in the early morning light. I was so grateful that my prayer had been answered. Miles' stomach was still touchy for the next couple of days, but he only threw up about 2 or 3 times on Tuesday, and maybe a couple of times a day until Friday as he was on the mend. The virus hit him the worst and it stayed with him the longest, but I know my prayers were answered, and I'm so grateful we didn't have to hospitalize him.
At any rate, for a while I had been thinking about trying a cleanse to jump start weight loss. But, I'm telling you, after I met Sasquatch & got the flu at the reunion, I came home a full 5 pounds lighter than when I left (usually I come home from trips a few pounds heavier). Lucky me, I don't have to do a cleanse anymore. Haha!
Here are some other highlights from our reunion:
Don't be fooled by the cute blue jay on top of the out-house. Uncles Brad & Brian told Kallianne about the "Fart-Hissing-Poop-Snakes" that reside under the outhouses. She thought it was an obvious lie, until she asked her dad, Kit, about it. Without talking to Brad or Brian, he reaffirmed the legend and told her, "Oh, yeah, those are the snakes whose hissing actually sounds like a fart, and it stinks, too. You'd better stay far away from them." She hesitated, "Wait? They're real?" We all died laughing when Kit told us the story.
The Borden Girls (not many of us)
The Borden Boys (pretty sure the family name will LIVE on)
Emmett was starting to get sick on this hike. We didn't realize until later that he truly wasn't feeling well. He stayed in denial about being sick until he actually threw up. I woke him up around 3 in the morning and said, "Emmett, honey, wake up! Here's some medicine, you're sick." Out of a dead sleep he JUMPED from the bed fighting mad. "NO I'M NOT!" I said, "Actually, you have a fever and need medicine." He scowled back and yelled, "NO I DON'T!!!!" Mitch and I were cracking up; it was HILARIOUS! He was spit-fire mad. I told him to let me know when he was ready for medicine. About 20 minutes later, he popped out of bed from a dead sleep again, "Okay! I need medicine!"
Look closely at his feet. Haha!
Crawdad fishing with Grandpa Borden
Miles & Merrill finally met for the 1st time, now that they're ONE year old!
Regatta boat races
Learned about Grandpa Jay Whiting "All Hands On Deck"
Hanging with Aunt Tina--she always spoils the babies!
We have an awesome family--I couldn't love them more. It's great being a Borden!
