At one point this morning, I just stopped for a moment to look at the walls and ceiling and estimate how much of Collin's morning meal I would need to replace.
That's a pretty good picture of our day so far. I won't go into all the details, but it involves a finicky syringe shooting pureed cream/beef/green beans with the force of a fire hose. Twice. Because I'm a slow learner, apparently. And when I finally got what was left of the food in a syringe and Collin's tube plugged in, it didn't latch, which I didn't discover until later, when I found him sitting in a puddle of food and medicine. The fiasco ended with me wiping down the counters, cabinets, ceiling, walls, and floor, washing everything that was sitting out, giving Collin a bath, and taking a shower. Because not only was it in my hair and down my shirt, but also the creases of my eyelids. And, naturally, the face of the shower head fell off while I was cleaning up.
Collin had a seizure last night, which is what I blame for the catastrophe. He had been exactly two weeks seizure free and then, seemingly out of nowhere, had a seizure at bedtime. I am fully aware that one seizure in two weeks is a dream compared to the dozens he used to have in a day (hundreds if you count back to spasms), but as I'm sure other parents of kids with seizure disorders will attest, the first seizure after a seizure-free period is like a punch in the gut. This made for a lousy night's sleep for all involved, and so I was not at my prime this morning.