I type a lot on my blog. I use it to brainstorm, there are quite a few posts you will never see. This is a snippet from a brainstorming post on the 25th of February:
"Don't you love a day where everything just flows. We did our handwriting, reading, gymnastics, piano and percussion lessons. I've already made another batch of pumpkin bread, two loaves of bread are rising, chicken noodle soup is almost done and a roast in the crock pot. It's not even noon. Why do I have a feeling I am going to pay for this very soon......."
And pay I did. Tuesday night the pigs escaped from their pen. Chris found them on the driveway having a free morning. Problem was something was not quite right with the girl. Some of her intestines were protruding.
Ah ha! I've been reading up on this! I can do this! I head to some stores to try and find something to sedate her so I can attempt to clean, reinsert and stitch her up. Four hours later, and nothing to show for it, I return to find she now has about 5 inches of intestines sticking out of her. This is officially out of my hands.
Needless to say I cannot get four children and a pig into my vehicle. I picked up jumper cables while I was out since the battery in our other car had gone dormant. I didn't realize the battery on the family car doesn't have leads on top like I've always seen. They are on the side. Not wanting my children to see mommy electrocuted I opted to wait for Chris to get home with his work van.
The work van had other ideas. Chris calls me about an hour before he should have been home to say the van is freaking out so he's taking it to the shop. He gets home too late to do anything for the pig on Wednesday. Plus the Jeep, even after being jumped, won't run properly. Add one more thing to the to do list for this weekend.
I am up at the crack of dawn Thursday after a restless night with Lydia. Chris and I head outside, corral the pig into a crate and load her in the back of the dead vehicle so that I will be able to shift her by myself into my grandfather's truck. Drop off kids at my sister's, collect said truck, and head home to get the pig. During all of that I am calling multiple vet offices trying to find any place other than the one nearly an hour away to take care of her. Just before I get home I talk to one about 7 miles away from me.
The pig deposited, I spent the rest of my day running some other errands I needed a truck for. Wish I could have spent more time hanging out with my sister, but so thankful she was around to babysit for me. I could not have gotten the pig there without her.
Friday, the vet tells me Miss Piggy (formerly known as bacon) is fine. They have done what they needed to do, but there's one more thing. She's pregnant. Probably about two more weeks. So, I'll need to cut the stitches holding her vagina together when I notice her milk come in (between the time we found her and when she made it to the vet the prolapse had gone from just her rectum to rectum and vagina). When their milk comes in they've got a day or two before giving birth, he says.
She stayed at the vet all day Friday, I picked her up early Saturday morning. The vet is telling me to squeeze for milk, as he does this, guess what! Milk! Frack. "You'll need to cut those first thing tomorrow."
It is now Sunday morning. I am headed outside to do just that.
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