3, no 4, 5 ring circus?

This is escapist blogging. Jesse is listening to "Twas the night before Christmas" (talking bear, 75% off at CVS after some long ago holidays), mom is tucked up in a quilt watching the news, Caleb is sleeping under a comforter -on the upstairs hall floor because it is 10AM and he just had a grand mal seizure- while he was trying to watch Jesse for me -so I could put the finishing touches on a final exam so the students who misread the schedule and already bought their plane tickets could take it early -and before Jesse was due at the pediatrician for another shot so he can stay in preschool -and right after the college girl (ours that is) called looking for her Dad ("I need to talk to Dad," tends to send chills up my spine) -and now Jesse is crying on my lap explaining his orange peeling injury (I'll ignore the part about trying with a knife since there is no blood), and I am pretty sure I have completely lost control of this sentence.

Grand mal by the way means (pardon my French) "big bad" -rough but accurate translation. Caleb's big bad seizures last several minutes and he twists and doubles while I keep my hand on his back and pray nothing breaks. He always knows they are coming so he came out of his little brother's room to where he could lie down and call me (shout out). I called the department secretary (not 911) to be sure the exam had made it and apologize that it still needed a header while he was seizing. Jesse wanted to be with us. That was tricky -I have not attempted to explain seizures to him and usually some one else can keep him occupied. I did finally convince him to go "check on Grandma" -unfortunately she was in the bathroom so then I sat with Caleb listening to Jesse pound on the bathroom door shouting, "Open the doe-oar Gan-ma. I haf to check on you. Are you OK?"

At some point then between rescheduling appointments, and checking on the college girl (budget crisis), I was crying and hugging my mom and insisting she was not a burden as she claimed. -And then I feel those 4 year old arms come around me telling me not to cry and as he assured me, "You are not a burden, moomy, you are not a burden."