A totally less fun post here, it has been a crazy few weeks with many drama filled decisions. For example: after two years of sharing a bedroom and a bunk bed, the boys will be separated this summer, back into their own rooms. We are looking for less drama llamas over every little thing that comes from being with another person practically 24/7. Bigs is excited to have a quiet, restful place where he can close the family out so that he could read Captain Underpants for the 40^th time. Smalls is offended that Bigs needs that quiet time and is only excited that his mini fridge and lazy boy will be brought into his own room. Neither is excited that we refuse to keep the bunk bed.

As we’re looking at what we need to do this summer as well as what we want to do, life is, of course, throwing in wrenches into the mix. We want to make sure that we’re spending enough time out of the house, in the sun and doing fun zoo trips, hiking, u-pick farming, bubbles and trampolining. But, life pops up with a resound NO. Last week, Hank’s class went to a local farm. He. Had. A. Blast. I wasn’t able to come and chaperone, but several friends were, and I received pictures and texts, “He’s already told me that he can’t feed the cows because he is allergic to dairy!” And “He asked me if he needed to be on the watch out for eggs, because he is allergic.” But, still, he came home with a swollen eye. But since he’s Hank, he could only talk about riding a horse, petting a cow, feeding goats. Not that he couldn’t see and his face was running with grossness of snot and tears.

Friday, my smallest dude complained of being hot and heavy at school pick up.  It’s Michigan, so yeah, it was 80 degrees. On the way home, he fell asleep in the car. At home, the thermometer measured 104.1 degrees. He was dry, hot and lethargic. He had full blown heat stroke. Together, my hubs and I – fully clothed – stood in the shower, taking turns holding Hank, while lukewarm water sprayed his burning skin. He screamed, kicked and vomited. A call to the nurse’s station at the doctor’s office told us to keep doing what we were and only if he doesn’t respond – take him to the ER.

We talked to him, asking when he started feeling ill and he started talking about feeling too hot in Art class. That the class room was so warm, that he was feeling sleepy. The scary part of this, he hadn’t had art that day. He had lost a full day in his memory.

We did the shower another time with almost the same results. Wet clothing, but no vomit. We filled him up with cold drinks, plopped him in front of the T.V. with a fan trained on his back. Soon, he turned bluish as his body cooled down, but his temperature kept fluctuating between 100.4 and 99.1.

That night, he fell fast asleep. Not once coming back down for additional food, not coming back down in the middle of the night for snuggles. Just a log. I checked on him in the middle of the night, and that kid was out so hard, he was drooling. The next morning, he was fine. Warmed from sleep but lacking a high temperature. He spent the day, quiet, playing with this brother and watching TV.

The trampoline stood silent and will as we take it easy for the next week or so.

This week, Monday was the last Monday of the school year and while standing in line, waiting for the door to his room to open, he tells me that he was very cold. How long does it take to recover from heat stroke? A while.

Remember, water, shade, light and loose clothing.