Thursday, July 24, 2008
One Little Pilot
"Mommy, Daddy, I don't want to be an Astronaut anymore."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to go to space."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to wear Astronaut Pull-Ups. I'm just going to fly airplanes instead."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to go to space."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to wear Astronaut Pull-Ups. I'm just going to fly airplanes instead."
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
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Saturday, July 12, 2008
And This Two Shall Pass
Hello, my name is Heidi. Second-time parent, first-time administrice d'enema.
That means I gave my daughter a shit pill.
It appears that Ollie's first big-girl poop may be stuck in the chute. According to our Ped, she's reached the ripe old age when her cottage cheese-like curdy stools give way to something...uh...more solid?* She wiggles, she grunts, she turns various shades of red and purple, but her little muscles just don't have the oomph. My poor baby!
It's been 11 days people.
The Rx:
-1/2 Infant Gylcerin Suppository, cut "girth-wise"
Manually pinch cheeks closed for 15 minutes to retain pill and prevent seepage. Deisred effect generally produced in 1/4 to 1 hour. (Currently 3h 22m and counting...) If bowel movement has not been passed after 8 hours, repeat. If that doesn't work, call the Ped.
I just love how these things always fall on a Sunday.
*Neither J or I remember this from the Cracker, just the introduction to solids. Yick. Something to look forward to, especially since we are cloth diapering.** I'm totally jonesing one of these.
**Except not tonight, even though I know cloth would handle a blowout better (shout out to my girl Izabela: her diapers can hold anything, and her stiching is a work of art that will make you weep) but because I am as equally fond of our fluffies as I am terrified of what will hopefully come out of my daughter.
That means I gave my daughter a shit pill.
It appears that Ollie's first big-girl poop may be stuck in the chute. According to our Ped, she's reached the ripe old age when her cottage cheese-like curdy stools give way to something...uh...more solid?* She wiggles, she grunts, she turns various shades of red and purple, but her little muscles just don't have the oomph. My poor baby!
It's been 11 days people.
The Rx:
-1/2 Infant Gylcerin Suppository, cut "girth-wise"
Manually pinch cheeks closed for 15 minutes to retain pill and prevent seepage. Deisred effect generally produced in 1/4 to 1 hour. (Currently 3h 22m and counting...) If bowel movement has not been passed after 8 hours, repeat. If that doesn't work, call the Ped.
I just love how these things always fall on a Sunday.
*Neither J or I remember this from the Cracker, just the introduction to solids. Yick. Something to look forward to, especially since we are cloth diapering.** I'm totally jonesing one of these.
**Except not tonight, even though I know cloth would handle a blowout better (shout out to my girl Izabela: her diapers can hold anything, and her stiching is a work of art that will make you weep) but because I am as equally fond of our fluffies as I am terrified of what will hopefully come out of my daughter.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
There's a placenta in my fridge
Introducing
OLIVE MOR.AN
16 April 2008
5:58pm
6 pounds, 8 ounces
20 inches
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Localese
My first trip to Walmart in a year.
"Hi. Do you know what aisle I can find antibacterial moist towelettes?"
"Huh?"
"Little antibacterial wipes? They come individually packaged, maybe 20 in a little box."
"Eh?"
"Similar idea as Purell, but in a little wipe?"
"Sorry, I don't know what you're talking about."
Grr....
"Like they give you in a restraunt after you eat ribs for cleaning up."
"Oh! Right this way!"
"Hi. Do you know what aisle I can find antibacterial moist towelettes?"
"Huh?"
"Little antibacterial wipes? They come individually packaged, maybe 20 in a little box."
"Eh?"
"Similar idea as Purell, but in a little wipe?"
"Sorry, I don't know what you're talking about."
Grr....
"Like they give you in a restraunt after you eat ribs for cleaning up."
"Oh! Right this way!"
Friday, March 07, 2008
Too Late
"Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"How do you spell 'booty'?"
"B-O-O-T-Y."
"B-O-O-T-Y spells booty. B-O-O-T-Y."
Wait...shit.
"Yes?"
"How do you spell 'booty'?"
"B-O-O-T-Y."
"B-O-O-T-Y spells booty. B-O-O-T-Y."
Wait...shit.
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Thank You, Dear Husband
There's just something about my son telling people (read strangers) that the baby is actually safely tucked away "inside a baby holder called a uterwus."
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Queen of Vague
Thank you for the emails. Because I am always so terminally late with the posting I tend to backtrack instead of stay current on this blog.
So here's the update:
I do have gestational diabetes. I have been monitoring and watching my diet for 9 days now, and things are going extremely well. The first two days were very hard because I was already stressed about my Dad and Dean trying to get home, my Sciatica was really acting up, and I was averaging 3-4 hours of sleep a day for a solid week. Getting told during this time that I had to start preplanning meals and measuring my food was just too much. Sometimes you're just too tired to stand there and count out exactly 17 medium sized grapes (15 grams of carbs worth) when eating itself almost takes more energy than you can muster.
As far as how it goes today, well, I can guestimate and just use common sense except at night. My numbers during the day are just fine, enough so that I've been told to up my carbs at breakfast and snacks and have not seen any rise in my blood glucose. I already eat pretty healthfully, so the only things I've given up so far are milk and cereal. I can't tell you how much I wish fiber wasn't a carb!
The problem is overnight while I'm sleeping/fasting . The goal for a fasting glucose is 90 or below, and mine remains 93-95 even with a big dose of protein only before bed. When I add even 10g of carbs it shoots up to 101-106. I should find out by Tuesday whether or not we'll be adding meds before bed. During the day I am supposed to aim for no more than 120 2 hours after a meal. I've been consistently in the high 80s to mid 90s. Funny though, stress really does play a role. (I saw my glucose shoot to 138 after receiving a statement from my insurance that suggested I may have to fork over $1400 that should have been covered. It's since been resolved.) To give you an idea of where these fall, I am not to call anyone unless I have a reading of 240 or above. I have also had two just above what they want to see ketone readings, but they think that by adding more carbs and cals during the day like I have been should bring it back down.
I have also learned from another blood test that this is absolutely gestational diabetes. In some cases the mother had diabetes prepregnancy and it just hadn't been diagnosed yet. Big fat phew!
So all is well here. Things are going to be pretty hectic until Olive makes her debut. (We're expecting her earlier now since the diagnosis. Can't say that knowing I won't go until 42 weeks again and have to be induced anyway isn't a big relief.) Preschool is starting the end of the the school year onslaught of guests and parties, soccer season starts this Saturday, floor hockey starts sometime in March, sib class for the Cracker, his birthday party the weekend after this one, Jason's birthday next week, family coming to town both for the Cracker's birthday party and then right back again for the baby... I already miss sleeping in. And the baby's room is not done. Sigh.
As for the chickadee herself, she's was pronounced head down at my 30 week appointment. This was no shock as I can really feel the difference, especially in my bladder. (As my midwife puts it, heads are much heavier than butts.) Since flipping she's decided that rib kicking is a super fun way to pass the time. We've also hit that stage where it's no longer "I think I just saw your belly move...wait there it is again" to "OMG what the hell is she doing in there???"
Life is good.
So here's the update:
I do have gestational diabetes. I have been monitoring and watching my diet for 9 days now, and things are going extremely well. The first two days were very hard because I was already stressed about my Dad and Dean trying to get home, my Sciatica was really acting up, and I was averaging 3-4 hours of sleep a day for a solid week. Getting told during this time that I had to start preplanning meals and measuring my food was just too much. Sometimes you're just too tired to stand there and count out exactly 17 medium sized grapes (15 grams of carbs worth) when eating itself almost takes more energy than you can muster.
As far as how it goes today, well, I can guestimate and just use common sense except at night. My numbers during the day are just fine, enough so that I've been told to up my carbs at breakfast and snacks and have not seen any rise in my blood glucose. I already eat pretty healthfully, so the only things I've given up so far are milk and cereal. I can't tell you how much I wish fiber wasn't a carb!
The problem is overnight while I'm sleeping/fasting . The goal for a fasting glucose is 90 or below, and mine remains 93-95 even with a big dose of protein only before bed. When I add even 10g of carbs it shoots up to 101-106. I should find out by Tuesday whether or not we'll be adding meds before bed. During the day I am supposed to aim for no more than 120 2 hours after a meal. I've been consistently in the high 80s to mid 90s. Funny though, stress really does play a role. (I saw my glucose shoot to 138 after receiving a statement from my insurance that suggested I may have to fork over $1400 that should have been covered. It's since been resolved.) To give you an idea of where these fall, I am not to call anyone unless I have a reading of 240 or above. I have also had two just above what they want to see ketone readings, but they think that by adding more carbs and cals during the day like I have been should bring it back down.
I have also learned from another blood test that this is absolutely gestational diabetes. In some cases the mother had diabetes prepregnancy and it just hadn't been diagnosed yet. Big fat phew!
So all is well here. Things are going to be pretty hectic until Olive makes her debut. (We're expecting her earlier now since the diagnosis. Can't say that knowing I won't go until 42 weeks again and have to be induced anyway isn't a big relief.) Preschool is starting the end of the the school year onslaught of guests and parties, soccer season starts this Saturday, floor hockey starts sometime in March, sib class for the Cracker, his birthday party the weekend after this one, Jason's birthday next week, family coming to town both for the Cracker's birthday party and then right back again for the baby... I already miss sleeping in. And the baby's room is not done. Sigh.
As for the chickadee herself, she's was pronounced head down at my 30 week appointment. This was no shock as I can really feel the difference, especially in my bladder. (As my midwife puts it, heads are much heavier than butts.) Since flipping she's decided that rib kicking is a super fun way to pass the time. We've also hit that stage where it's no longer "I think I just saw your belly move...wait there it is again" to "OMG what the hell is she doing in there???"
Life is good.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Bring on the Drama, Part 1
I give up.
So the morning after finding out I had failed the 1 hour glucose it was my day to work at the Co-op. It was also our day to bring snack. And in case you don't already know, when you're 4 bringing your Mom/Dad to preschool and snack on the same day is like the biggest friggin deal ever. (Because you get to turn off the lights and tell everyone it's time to clean up, pick a song at story time, and help the teachers open the door for recess.) Now school most days for the Cracker is only 2.5 hours, so being an hour late sucks because we already live 25 minutes away. And if you are one of the parents working that day you just make sure not to be late. Easy. Except, I get the car loaded up, drive 3 feet, and can tell something is not right. Not a little flat or huh well that's flat, but a fuck that rat bastard is sitting on the rim and ain't nobody going nowhere flat. Luckily for me and not so much for him, it was the one day that J had decided to go in late so he could catch up on some much needed sleep. So we woke his ass up, poor guy, rushed him as best we could, me with the "OMG FUCK! I'm working today!" and the Cracker with the "OMG my friends will all die of starvation if I don't bring snack!" and carpooled in. Now, normally I would have just at least attempted to change the damn tire, but you know, 7.5 mos pregnant and all, on a vehicle that I've owned for more than 4 years but never had to change a tire on, and how the hell do you get the spare out when it's up and under on the outside (SUV) which must require some tool and where the hell is the owner's manual... Yeah, no. So we made it, late, but everyone survived and snack was served.
Oh, and because what are the odds... I had not had a flat since like 2001, but after buying this set of tires in December 2006 I had two slow leaks, a nail and a screw, in the first 3 months. Interestingly, no nails/screws while the houses all around us were under construction, but two years after we are now up to three in a year. Oh, and this is the good part: this new nail was on one of the tires that had already been patched and right next to said patch, and they cannot patch next to a patch, so tire was a total loss at like 12K on a 75K rated tire. That takes mad driving skills yo, let me tell you. But because it was Costco, and I heart Costco (though they royally pissed me off the other day...vent later) I only had to pay $60 for a new $200+ tire. Hooray for the my wife aims for nails road hazard warranty.
Next day I go for my 3 hour glucose. The plan was for J to go to work ahead of time (lab is only a mile away from his office) and I bring the Cracker in and get started, J comes and gets him from the lab and takes him to school, and then if all is just perfectly timed I can pick him up. (School = 2.5hrs and is a good 10-15 minutes from the lab.) Except J is stressed, and even though I have been nagging him double and triple checking that he can do it, he forgets that morning and he can't. Fine, really. I just tell the lab that sorry, I have to drive my kid up to school after we get underway, I'll be back within the hour no problem. They say fine...they couldn't care less. I've checked in and they know why I'm there: 4 perfectly timed blood tests, the drink, and 3 hours. They tell me it will be a few minutes while they get things prepped. Except they can't stop flirting with each other long enough to start the process, and then suddenly it's busy. The Cracker and I are seated in the same long hall as the overflow from the walk-in clinic, and I the ever increasing Germaphobe (because I've already been sick enough once this pregnancy, thank you) am freaking out because everyone in New Mexico seems to currently have the flu: everyone at J's work, 1/2 the class is out at school, and it's headlining the local news. Co-mingling with urgent care and a little boy who must touch everything and then pick his nose is not my idea of fun. And I've been fasting for 14hours already. AN HOUR AND 20 MINUTES LATER they finally get me started. Wow, gee, thanks. All someone had to do to start the process was take a little vial of blood, then hand me a drink and start the timer, but flirting is way more important than doing your actual job. I end up rushing back to get him between timed tests and then have an hour to kill after finishing and before my midwife appointment in the same building. Oh, and I am suddenly shaky 15 minutes after the 4th blood draw. Fantastic sign, no?
As for taking my son with me to see the midwife... Can I just say right now how fun it is to have to pee in a cup with your almost 5 year old son watching and screaming DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING INCLUDING THAT WHICH SEEMS INNOCUOUS BUT MAY HAVE BEEN TOUCHED BY THE LAST PERSON WHO HAD BAD AIM, BEFORE THEY WASHED THEIR HANDS. And the room is so tiny that if he isn't facing me he's licking the wall inadvertently. And what are those wipes for Mom? Why are you wiping before you pee? Why do they come in little packages? What's sterile? Why do they need to be sterile? Bugs?There might be bugs???
(Sometimes, just sometimes, it is nice to have a checkup by yourself without the 20 questions.)
Results were, of course, not in yet and hour after the fact. But there was glucose in my urine at that midwife appointment, and I had my nice solid 1 hour fail, not to mention shakes after being done, so yeah, no suspense there.
So the morning after finding out I had failed the 1 hour glucose it was my day to work at the Co-op. It was also our day to bring snack. And in case you don't already know, when you're 4 bringing your Mom/Dad to preschool and snack on the same day is like the biggest friggin deal ever. (Because you get to turn off the lights and tell everyone it's time to clean up, pick a song at story time, and help the teachers open the door for recess.) Now school most days for the Cracker is only 2.5 hours, so being an hour late sucks because we already live 25 minutes away. And if you are one of the parents working that day you just make sure not to be late. Easy. Except, I get the car loaded up, drive 3 feet, and can tell something is not right. Not a little flat or huh well that's flat, but a fuck that rat bastard is sitting on the rim and ain't nobody going nowhere flat. Luckily for me and not so much for him, it was the one day that J had decided to go in late so he could catch up on some much needed sleep. So we woke his ass up, poor guy, rushed him as best we could, me with the "OMG FUCK! I'm working today!" and the Cracker with the "OMG my friends will all die of starvation if I don't bring snack!" and carpooled in. Now, normally I would have just at least attempted to change the damn tire, but you know, 7.5 mos pregnant and all, on a vehicle that I've owned for more than 4 years but never had to change a tire on, and how the hell do you get the spare out when it's up and under on the outside (SUV) which must require some tool and where the hell is the owner's manual... Yeah, no. So we made it, late, but everyone survived and snack was served.
Oh, and because what are the odds... I had not had a flat since like 2001, but after buying this set of tires in December 2006 I had two slow leaks, a nail and a screw, in the first 3 months. Interestingly, no nails/screws while the houses all around us were under construction, but two years after we are now up to three in a year. Oh, and this is the good part: this new nail was on one of the tires that had already been patched and right next to said patch, and they cannot patch next to a patch, so tire was a total loss at like 12K on a 75K rated tire. That takes mad driving skills yo, let me tell you. But because it was Costco, and I heart Costco (though they royally pissed me off the other day...vent later) I only had to pay $60 for a new $200+ tire. Hooray for the
Next day I go for my 3 hour glucose. The plan was for J to go to work ahead of time (lab is only a mile away from his office) and I bring the Cracker in and get started, J comes and gets him from the lab and takes him to school, and then if all is just perfectly timed I can pick him up. (School = 2.5hrs and is a good 10-15 minutes from the lab.) Except J is stressed, and even though I have been nagging him double and triple checking that he can do it, he forgets that morning and he can't. Fine, really. I just tell the lab that sorry, I have to drive my kid up to school after we get underway, I'll be back within the hour no problem. They say fine...they couldn't care less. I've checked in and they know why I'm there: 4 perfectly timed blood tests, the drink, and 3 hours. They tell me it will be a few minutes while they get things prepped. Except they can't stop flirting with each other long enough to start the process, and then suddenly it's busy. The Cracker and I are seated in the same long hall as the overflow from the walk-in clinic, and I the ever increasing Germaphobe (because I've already been sick enough once this pregnancy, thank you) am freaking out because everyone in New Mexico seems to currently have the flu: everyone at J's work, 1/2 the class is out at school, and it's headlining the local news. Co-mingling with urgent care and a little boy who must touch everything and then pick his nose is not my idea of fun. And I've been fasting for 14hours already. AN HOUR AND 20 MINUTES LATER they finally get me started. Wow, gee, thanks. All someone had to do to start the process was take a little vial of blood, then hand me a drink and start the timer, but flirting is way more important than doing your actual job. I end up rushing back to get him between timed tests and then have an hour to kill after finishing and before my midwife appointment in the same building. Oh, and I am suddenly shaky 15 minutes after the 4th blood draw. Fantastic sign, no?
As for taking my son with me to see the midwife... Can I just say right now how fun it is to have to pee in a cup with your almost 5 year old son watching and screaming DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING INCLUDING THAT WHICH SEEMS INNOCUOUS BUT MAY HAVE BEEN TOUCHED BY THE LAST PERSON WHO HAD BAD AIM, BEFORE THEY WASHED THEIR HANDS. And the room is so tiny that if he isn't facing me he's licking the wall inadvertently. And what are those wipes for Mom? Why are you wiping before you pee? Why do they come in little packages? What's sterile? Why do they need to be sterile? Bugs?There might be bugs???
(Sometimes, just sometimes, it is nice to have a checkup by yourself without the 20 questions.)
Results were, of course, not in yet and hour after the fact. But there was glucose in my urine at that midwife appointment, and I had my nice solid 1 hour fail, not to mention shakes after being done, so yeah, no suspense there.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
My Something Happy
With all the sadness in the world lately, I feel the need to post something happy.
Voilà one "Smiling Porcupine"
(And if you happen to be eating your Wheaties at the present time urine is mentioned in a not so appetizing way below.)
Being the weirdo that I am, I asked the Cracker if he knew what porcupines eat. His guess? Popcorn.
So we ran to the computer to Wiki it.
Salt. They like salt. I enjoy popcorn for the salt, so awesome guess in my book. Know what else they like?
"Natural sources of salt consumed by porcupines include varieties of salt-rich plants (such as yellow water lily and aquatic liverwort), fresh animal bones, outer tree bark, mud in salt-rich soils, and objects impregnated with urine."
One day I shall remember to read ahead.
Voilà one "Smiling Porcupine"
(And if you happen to be eating your Wheaties at the present time urine is mentioned in a not so appetizing way below.)
Being the weirdo that I am, I asked the Cracker if he knew what porcupines eat. His guess? Popcorn.
So we ran to the computer to Wiki it.
Salt. They like salt. I enjoy popcorn for the salt, so awesome guess in my book. Know what else they like?
"Natural sources of salt consumed by porcupines include varieties of salt-rich plants (such as yellow water lily and aquatic liverwort), fresh animal bones, outer tree bark, mud in salt-rich soils, and objects impregnated with urine."
One day I shall remember to read ahead.
Monday, February 18, 2008
The world lost a really beautiful person today
Most of us are born into loving families. My dad was not. As the old saying goes, you may not get to choose your family, but you do get to choose your friends. Dean was my Dad's best friend; Dean was family to us.
He and my Dad had just left this last Thursday on a nearly month long tour of South America. This morning in Santiago, Chile, while getting ready to leave for the next destination, Dean simply collapsed. My Dad was right there.
Not only has he lost his best friend, my Dad is now struggling through loads of foreign red tape trying to figure out how he will get his body released to bring Dean home to his wife and daughters. My Dad will not come home without him.
I am beyond devestated for my Dad. They were best friends who not only spent much of their free time together, but also worked together, climbing the ranks together up until retirement. (Dean ended his career a Judge as well.) They had season tickets to the Giants and Bears Football together. All I can think is that those kind of friends don't come around more than once in a lifetime, and how very lonely my Dad will be.
Dean was my first crush, even though he had about 40 years on me. I still remember when he asked me to dance with him at his wedding. I was 6 and it was the most magical moment of my young life. He had me stand on his feet.
When I went looking for pictures tonight I found about a gazillion, but these were my favorites. The second one they had self titled "Judges Gone Wild"
He will be very missed.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Elevated
A month ago I had days where the pain was so bad I couldn't get out of bed, just lay there with tears streaming down my face. Just trying to get to the bathroom was a huge undertaking: the pain and inactivity made me stiff, I had a leg that wasn't working at all, and no idea where my center of gravity was. J was already working mega overtime on a project that had been doomed for months but was now nearing peak catastrophe levels, no family in town to help, it was scary because I was only at 25 weeks. The Cracker was born at 42 weeks, 1 day. What the hell was I going to do if things not only didn't get better but got worse over the next 15-17 weeks? It was all so unpredictable...one day I would be okay, and then a string of bad days would follow. I didn't really feel like it was fair to ask my parents to drag themselves out here from California to take care of the Cracker when who even knew how I'd feel tomorrow. It was after 5 really bad days in a row that I totally lost my shit and became hysterical and was able to get my first Chiropractor appointment moved up on an emergency basis. That was a Thursday. Whaddaya know? The next day was a better day...I was able to get out of bed. By my first appointment the following Monday things were much better again. I felt like an ass.
So...yesterday I was shooting my mouth off to J about how positively fantastic I was feeling. With all the little episodes of mini drama during my first and second trimesters resolved, my back problems/sciatica are under control under the care of an amazing (specializes in pregnancy) Chiropractor I felt on top of the world. I even had more energy, much more than I've had pretty much this entire pregnancy. And it all felt soooo good, not just physically, but mentally too. I'm 29 weeks pregnant, feeling fucking like Wonder Woman. I was done with the drama...this was how it was going to be dammit!
And today was going to be the best day yet, because this was my one day this week to sleep in past 7:15a. No school, no school functions, no Midwife/Doctor/Dentist appointments, no birthday parties, and none of that blasted Saturday morning soccer.
At 7:23a the phone rang. "You failed your 1 hour glucose test." I'm sorry...didn't you get the "No More Drama No Matter How Minor" memo? It's before 8a and I haven't had any caffeine since goddamn August.
"How badly did I fail?"
"Your level was elevated. We need more information."
"Did I barely fail, solidly fail, or miserably fail?"
"Solidly."
Fucking fantastic. My happy bubble is officially popped.
I know this isn't a diagnosis, and even if it were, it's not the end of the world. But just like clockwork, here we go again with a new thing every 3-4 weeks.
I am seriously pissed off.
So...yesterday I was shooting my mouth off to J about how positively fantastic I was feeling. With all the little episodes of mini drama during my first and second trimesters resolved, my back problems/sciatica are under control under the care of an amazing (specializes in pregnancy) Chiropractor I felt on top of the world. I even had more energy, much more than I've had pretty much this entire pregnancy. And it all felt soooo good, not just physically, but mentally too. I'm 29 weeks pregnant, feeling fucking like Wonder Woman. I was done with the drama...this was how it was going to be dammit!
And today was going to be the best day yet, because this was my one day this week to sleep in past 7:15a. No school, no school functions, no Midwife/Doctor/Dentist appointments, no birthday parties, and none of that blasted Saturday morning soccer.
At 7:23a the phone rang. "You failed your 1 hour glucose test." I'm sorry...didn't you get the "No More Drama No Matter How Minor" memo? It's before 8a and I haven't had any caffeine since goddamn August.
"How badly did I fail?"
"Your level was elevated. We need more information."
"Did I barely fail, solidly fail, or miserably fail?"
"Solidly."
Fucking fantastic. My happy bubble is officially popped.
I know this isn't a diagnosis, and even if it were, it's not the end of the world. But just like clockwork, here we go again with a new thing every 3-4 weeks.
I am seriously pissed off.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Funny how that doesn't narrow it down
"Hey Mom, can we go to that place again today?"
"What place?"
"That place blah blah blah blah blah."
"Huh? What was it called?"
"I don't bremember, but blah blah blah. Oh! And we got rockstar parking!"
My dear child, we live in New Mexico. Unless you're at Walmart, Flying Star, or a carniceria, rockstar parking just isn't a big wup.
"What place?"
"That place blah blah blah blah blah."
"Huh? What was it called?"
"I don't bremember, but blah blah blah. Oh! And we got rockstar parking!"
My dear child, we live in New Mexico. Unless you're at Walmart, Flying Star, or a carniceria, rockstar parking just isn't a big wup.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Keeping It Real
If gardening bores you, well, this isn't completely about gardening, or the environment...eventually.
One of the most rewarding parts of home ownership for me so far has been having a yard. And in that yard I have been working on our very own 300sq ft veggie garden. Since our soil is 100% alkaline crap, it's been a slow process. Oh, and I am trying to not only get in as much rich organic matter in as possible for the least amount of money, I want to raise the whole 300sq ft bed a minimum of 18 inches.
Yeah. It's gonna take a few years, but I'm enjoying the ride. I'm a sweat equity kind of girl.
So we got into composting, and last year vermicomposting. When ever I think about it and I'm already in town I stop at every Starbucks along my route and pick up used coffee grounds, which with my totally alkaline soil is a rock star when it comes to amending the pH. Starbucks will literally give you gigantic garbage bags full if you request them. (Info here.) And dude, it's free. Awesome.
The whole family is pretty well trained, and just between composting, recycling and bringing our own bags to the store right now we could easily go 2 months before filling our city issued trash can to the top. Heck...even in our hick town they offer electronics recycling at no charge a few times a year. It just keeps getting harder and harder to simply throw things away.
So do I think my little family making a difference? Hell no! But it's the thought that counts.
------
Now, for the record, I don't plan on making lasagne, or spaghetti, or pizza. (Recipes here.) I also hear it's excellent sautéed up with a little onion and...what was it? Fennel, perhaps?
But dude, I totally want to bring home the placenta.
And I am oh so totally serious.
Fuck no I don't plan on eating it, but hello, it really seems wrong to just send it off as biohazardous waste, probably to some incinerator when I could, I dunno, find some way to use it to spruce up my veggie garden.
Totally organic homegrown zucchini...anyone? Anyone?
And once you find people you actually know have already BTDT the stigma fades quite quickly. Turns out a good friend of mine from our preschool co-op kept hers in the freezer for 2 years before she figured out what to do with it. Let me tell you...it was one of the top 5 hot topics of our drunken, off-site Halloween party. There's nothing like stories of freaking out the people who dare to explore your icebox sin permiso to get a party started.
(That and her husband dressed up as the most convincing Mormon missionary ever, complete with backpack and bike helmet. We like them and we're feel honored that they like us back.)
Honestly, I am not quite as hippie as I sound. There is still a part of me that keeps asking...really?
But my mind is made up.
Okay, so where to start? G-o-o-g-l-e.
Alrighty. Apparently I will need:
-a placenta
-1 large Tupperware container with a "very tight fitting lid"
Oh for Christ's sake.
But beware! DANG-EH! Step 5 of How to Take the Placenta Home warns:
"Keep it away from any pets you have. Do not allow your pet to smell it so it can get your baby's scent. Most pets have an instinctual desire to eat the placenta."
Good morning, friends. =)
One of the most rewarding parts of home ownership for me so far has been having a yard. And in that yard I have been working on our very own 300sq ft veggie garden. Since our soil is 100% alkaline crap, it's been a slow process. Oh, and I am trying to not only get in as much rich organic matter in as possible for the least amount of money, I want to raise the whole 300sq ft bed a minimum of 18 inches.
Yeah. It's gonna take a few years, but I'm enjoying the ride. I'm a sweat equity kind of girl.
So we got into composting, and last year vermicomposting. When ever I think about it and I'm already in town I stop at every Starbucks along my route and pick up used coffee grounds, which with my totally alkaline soil is a rock star when it comes to amending the pH. Starbucks will literally give you gigantic garbage bags full if you request them. (Info here.) And dude, it's free. Awesome.
The whole family is pretty well trained, and just between composting, recycling and bringing our own bags to the store right now we could easily go 2 months before filling our city issued trash can to the top. Heck...even in our hick town they offer electronics recycling at no charge a few times a year. It just keeps getting harder and harder to simply throw things away.
So do I think my little family making a difference? Hell no! But it's the thought that counts.
------
Now, for the record, I don't plan on making lasagne, or spaghetti, or pizza. (Recipes here.) I also hear it's excellent sautéed up with a little onion and...what was it? Fennel, perhaps?
But dude, I totally want to bring home the placenta.
And I am oh so totally serious.
Fuck no I don't plan on eating it, but hello, it really seems wrong to just send it off as biohazardous waste, probably to some incinerator when I could, I dunno, find some way to use it to spruce up my veggie garden.
Totally organic homegrown zucchini...anyone? Anyone?
And once you find people you actually know have already BTDT the stigma fades quite quickly. Turns out a good friend of mine from our preschool co-op kept hers in the freezer for 2 years before she figured out what to do with it. Let me tell you...it was one of the top 5 hot topics of our drunken, off-site Halloween party. There's nothing like stories of freaking out the people who dare to explore your icebox sin permiso to get a party started.
(That and her husband dressed up as the most convincing Mormon missionary ever, complete with backpack and bike helmet. We like them and we're feel honored that they like us back.)
Honestly, I am not quite as hippie as I sound. There is still a part of me that keeps asking...really?
But my mind is made up.
Okay, so where to start? G-o-o-g-l-e.
Alrighty. Apparently I will need:
-a placenta
-1 large Tupperware container with a "very tight fitting lid"
Oh for Christ's sake.
But beware! DANG-EH! Step 5 of How to Take the Placenta Home warns:
"Keep it away from any pets you have. Do not allow your pet to smell it so it can get your baby's scent. Most pets have an instinctual desire to eat the placenta."
Good morning, friends. =)
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Sayonara Second Trimester
Good riddance.
I haven't been blogging because really all I want to do is complain, and complaining makes me feel like a total ass because I am fully aware that the world is full of people with real problems. (Not that any of that has stopped me from having the occasional pity party...I just haven't published any of it until now. But this will at least be condensed.) (And for the record, until week 37 with the Cracker I had the most boring pregnancy ever. Seriously.)
So, in the spirit of cleansing and moving on and having what I have decided will be the awesomest third trimester ever, here we go.
What I learned this second trimester:
Spotting that came out of nowhere and lasted a good full week = unexplained and apparently not of concern (after ultrasound) to anyone but us.
Still feeling really rundown = anemic by blood volume.
Not having a gallbladder = icky digestion issues = no weight gain through week 21. (But go me...I gained 4lbs for my week 25 appointment after holiday binging.)
It may just be two or three drops every time I sneeze, but incontinence = incontinence = unacceptable and deeply disturbing.
Back pain so low that really it's better described as above the crack all the way across my ass pain, but more so on my left = sciatica = Oh! So that's why my leg keeps falling asleep, except that it's painful, and stomping around/rain dancing does not even kinda wake it up = a bad day cannot just be walked off...the only relief is to lay down.
By week 24 standing up = swelling, but sitting = back pain = I prefer swelling. (Uh...isn't this a little early???) New thing learned: I can swell out of Birkenstocks but I cannot swell out of Crocs = good to know.
The uncontrollable urge to nest = a bitch on a bad sciatica day. Think I'm just going to get out of bed to unload/reload the dishwasher because of my God I fucking refuse to have any dirty dishes in the sink and it's going to make me feel better about the fact that I can't tear the closets apart and/or move furniture that's too heavy to move anyway that my husband swore he'd move last weekend by didn't = hysterical sobbing because even such a rudimentary task really really hurts and why the fuck can't I stop myself from doing in anyway? = I am screwed if I ever become a chronic pain patient = I am a wuss even if I did do a natural childbirth the first time around.
My first ever UTI. My first ever kidney infection. Apparently they were "raging." (And after a round of antibiotics incontinence = gone! Happyhappyhappy!) (And for the sake of brevity we won't get into my less than a day hospital stay, but yes, they did take it seriously and made a big affair of making sure I wasn't in preterm labor.)
In a misguided and unconscious attempt to deal with the Sciatica = start walking/sleeping/sitting/something funny that causes upper back pain = keeps getting worse = more crying because dammit I want to be detailing baseboards with Q-tips and cleaning up the cat gak that my son just slide across the carpet on.
(Think I'm done now.)
And in good news:
Waking up with leg cramps was new to me this pregnancy too, but I have now perfected the art of waking up, flexing my foot before they take hold and falling back asleep all within 1 second. Check me out...I'm super fucking talented.
My first Chiropractor appointment is Monday, and insurance is supposedly going to cover it without a referral. I. Am. So. Excited.
I got a pregnancy pillow today that came highly recommended and so far seems to rock. Lo and behold there's even still room for J in the bed. (He totally wanted to try it out because he thought it looked "awesome" so I totally took his picture with it and we thought we were pretty damn funny in the moment.) (Yes, we know that while perfectly suited for each other that no one else would ever love either or us, so this is it.)
First and middle...we have a full official name. (It's even been official for more than a month.) The first name is uncommon enough that it hasn't hit the Social Security Administration's Top 1000 Most Popular Girl's Names list since 1950 (very important to J) yet it isn't something that we made up. It's part old fashioned, part spunky, something you've heard of and comes with 3 fantastic possible nicknames. We're totally in love. The middle name is a variation of a tradition from my family where girls are named after a particular line of tugboats. J was very sweet about giving up one of his favorite names early on, which was good, because...no. While it started out as a joke, he seriously fell in love with Creirdyddlydd. I shit you not. "Thirteen letters and five of them are Ds...It's beautiful." UhhNO. On a random note, out of our top 3 girl names (all of which were decently unusual) 2 have been used in the last few months by Australian celebrities. (And for those who know me from back when or remember the stories of my crazy youth...I did my last foreign exchange student gig in New Zealand, not Australia.)
Anyway, that about catches things up. Sayonara.
I haven't been blogging because really all I want to do is complain, and complaining makes me feel like a total ass because I am fully aware that the world is full of people with real problems. (Not that any of that has stopped me from having the occasional pity party...I just haven't published any of it until now. But this will at least be condensed.) (And for the record, until week 37 with the Cracker I had the most boring pregnancy ever. Seriously.)
So, in the spirit of cleansing and moving on and having what I have decided will be the awesomest third trimester ever, here we go.
What I learned this second trimester:
Spotting that came out of nowhere and lasted a good full week = unexplained and apparently not of concern (after ultrasound) to anyone but us.
Still feeling really rundown = anemic by blood volume.
Not having a gallbladder = icky digestion issues = no weight gain through week 21. (But go me...I gained 4lbs for my week 25 appointment after holiday binging.)
It may just be two or three drops every time I sneeze, but incontinence = incontinence = unacceptable and deeply disturbing.
Back pain so low that really it's better described as above the crack all the way across my ass pain, but more so on my left = sciatica = Oh! So that's why my leg keeps falling asleep, except that it's painful, and stomping around/rain dancing does not even kinda wake it up = a bad day cannot just be walked off...the only relief is to lay down.
By week 24 standing up = swelling, but sitting = back pain = I prefer swelling. (Uh...isn't this a little early???) New thing learned: I can swell out of Birkenstocks but I cannot swell out of Crocs = good to know.
The uncontrollable urge to nest = a bitch on a bad sciatica day. Think I'm just going to get out of bed to unload/reload the dishwasher because of my God I fucking refuse to have any dirty dishes in the sink and it's going to make me feel better about the fact that I can't tear the closets apart and/or move furniture that's too heavy to move anyway that my husband swore he'd move last weekend by didn't = hysterical sobbing because even such a rudimentary task really really hurts and why the fuck can't I stop myself from doing in anyway? = I am screwed if I ever become a chronic pain patient = I am a wuss even if I did do a natural childbirth the first time around.
My first ever UTI. My first ever kidney infection. Apparently they were "raging." (And after a round of antibiotics incontinence = gone! Happyhappyhappy!) (And for the sake of brevity we won't get into my less than a day hospital stay, but yes, they did take it seriously and made a big affair of making sure I wasn't in preterm labor.)
In a misguided and unconscious attempt to deal with the Sciatica = start walking/sleeping/sitting/something funny that causes upper back pain = keeps getting worse = more crying because dammit I want to be detailing baseboards with Q-tips and cleaning up the cat gak that my son just slide across the carpet on.
(Think I'm done now.)
And in good news:
Waking up with leg cramps was new to me this pregnancy too, but I have now perfected the art of waking up, flexing my foot before they take hold and falling back asleep all within 1 second. Check me out...I'm super fucking talented.
My first Chiropractor appointment is Monday, and insurance is supposedly going to cover it without a referral. I. Am. So. Excited.
I got a pregnancy pillow today that came highly recommended and so far seems to rock. Lo and behold there's even still room for J in the bed. (He totally wanted to try it out because he thought it looked "awesome" so I totally took his picture with it and we thought we were pretty damn funny in the moment.) (Yes, we know that while perfectly suited for each other that no one else would ever love either or us, so this is it.)
First and middle...we have a full official name. (It's even been official for more than a month.) The first name is uncommon enough that it hasn't hit the Social Security Administration's Top 1000 Most Popular Girl's Names list since 1950 (very important to J) yet it isn't something that we made up. It's part old fashioned, part spunky, something you've heard of and comes with 3 fantastic possible nicknames. We're totally in love. The middle name is a variation of a tradition from my family where girls are named after a particular line of tugboats. J was very sweet about giving up one of his favorite names early on, which was good, because...no. While it started out as a joke, he seriously fell in love with Creirdyddlydd. I shit you not. "Thirteen letters and five of them are Ds...It's beautiful." UhhNO. On a random note, out of our top 3 girl names (all of which were decently unusual) 2 have been used in the last few months by Australian celebrities. (And for those who know me from back when or remember the stories of my crazy youth...I did my last foreign exchange student gig in New Zealand, not Australia.)
Anyway, that about catches things up. Sayonara.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Last Week in Art
"Look what I made at school!"
"Wow! That is one gorgeous Christmas tree!"
"No silly! It's a rocket ship with gooey eyeballs!"
The Things They Remember
(Vibrators mentioned.)
"Hey Mom, where's your blue one?"
"My blue what? Oh. Umm, yeah, it broke. Put that back in the nightstand please."
Dude, I had a blue one for less than a week, like, last spring.
"Hey Mom, where's your blue one?"
"My blue what? Oh. Umm, yeah, it broke. Put that back in the nightstand please."
Dude, I had a blue one for less than a week, like, last spring.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Happy Holidays
The Cracker's final (updated) and sent to Santa list for 2007:
1. Barricade (Check!)
2. Pat Pat Rocket (It's a good thing he's got grandparents because, well, it's a $40 Target Exclusive HTF POS that I wouldn't buy. Check.)
3. A drum stick (And then J talks me into *see below)
4. Marble Mania (Check! You gotta love grandparents)
5. Geo Trax (The You-Can't-Have-Everything-And-We-Already-Have-Thomas lesson)
*********************************************************
1. Barricade (Check!)
2. Pat Pat Rocket (It's a good thing he's got grandparents because, well, it's a $40 Target Exclusive HTF POS that I wouldn't buy. Check.)
3. A drum stick (And then J talks me into *see below)
4. Marble Mania (Check! You gotta love grandparents)
5. Geo Trax (The You-Can't-Have-Everything-And-We-Already-Have-Thomas lesson)
*********************************************************
Sunday, September 30, 2007
So.............
Enough with the procrastinating already.
IUI #3 (with Clomid) worked.
Yuppers.
Ten weeks on Monday.
(Stunned? I still kinda am too.)
While I know it would be exceptionally bad taste to immediately start bitching and moaning, I believe I've earned the right to at least point out the following:
Weight lost in September...21 lbs.
Weight gained (all in the last week)...1/2 lb.
To be continued...
IUI #3 (with Clomid) worked.
Yuppers.
Ten weeks on Monday.
(Stunned? I still kinda am too.)
While I know it would be exceptionally bad taste to immediately start bitching and moaning, I believe I've earned the right to at least point out the following:
Weight lost in September...21 lbs.
Weight gained (all in the last week)...1/2 lb.
To be continued...
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