Keenly Peachy

I hate this

2010-04-14T22:09:00.002-04:00

I had some cute photos and other light and amusing posts.

Unfortunately, today it became clear that a close friend of my sister had killed himself.

Rest in peace Greg.

Confirmation

2010-04-07T13:48:00.008-04:00

Yesterday we officially received the results of some of Tinkerbell's testing. To our complete and utter lack of shock she is Autistic. She tested almost identically to her sister (one point difference during the entire test - interestingly enough that point pushed her into "autism" rather than "autism spectrum disorder,") so we are assuming she too will eventually end up with a diagnosis of Asperger's. Honestly, it was just good to get the results and have them in writing so that the school district can get started with the appropriate special ed. Children like her and her sister can be difficult for a school to test as there can be quite a bit of subtlety involved. Her current therapists were worried a typical 45 minute screening wouldn't be enough. Luckily, we were able to get her tested as a small part of a larger study that she took part in and they were finally able to give us the results as her part is winding down.

It's funny - 6 years ago my world was basically turned upside-down by the exact same news. This time around there are only knowing chuckles and relief to have the results in hand. It's amazing how a lot of knowledge and a bit of time can change things. This time around we understand it's not the end of the world or life as we know it. We understand that knowledge is power and will lead to us being better able to help her in the long run.

So are we happy? Of course not. Obviously this sort of diagnosis leads to a question about the future that is impossible to answer fully, but at least we know that a good future is possible and we will choose to work with that.

(On a lighter note to all statisticians - 3 full siblings, and the two *girls* are the ones on the spectrum. Gotta love the odds, no?)

Soooo Close

2010-04-06T00:21:00.003-04:00

Just, *so* close.

Damn, that was an amazing game. I just wish it had been a slightly more amazing game.

My evil little sister

2010-04-03T00:42:00.002-04:00

Is going to the Final Four tomorrow to watch Butler (hopefully) crush Michiagn State.

Im trying very hard not to hate her. And, in fact, mixed up a bunch of blue sparkly face paint for her.

In other news I was accused of being her twin sister while we were out shopping today. That was nice.

Well, today sucked

2010-03-18T01:58:00.003-04:00

Bear's school will officially be closing at the end of the school year.

I do not like the idea, but I do agree with the decision. I just don't care for the consequences.

In other news - Hi! Long time, no see...

Daisies and Hip Hop Don't Mix

2009-01-05T23:51:00.001-05:00

So, my Daisy troop co-leader hired someone to come in and teach the girls a hip hop routine today during our troop meeting.

It was the best money spent ever. It was adorable, hilarious, and darling all at the same time. During the "recital" afterwards several of the teachers at the school came in and watched.

Bear was, well, bear. From the waist down she's fine. She can do all of the complicated steps and turns, no problem. But from the waist up? A complete disaster. She barely moves at all. If her head moved six inches during the entire performance I would be shocked. They were doing the lean back shoulder groove thing and she moves about an inch. Max. They were supposed to be bent over and snapping their fingers while swaying. There was no sway. There was no bend. There, however, was snapping. However, she rocked the "strike a pose with an attitude" part at the end. My girl, she can pretend to be a bratty 13 year old, no problem. I was so proud.

Goodness, it was a good time. Best. Meeting. Ever!

NotD: China Glaze Vampy. I broke a nail badly last night while I was cleaning (and in a snit.) So it's dark, vampy colors for a while.

Today sleeping in, tomorrow school!

2009-01-04T23:35:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow normal life resumes. Well, for a day. Then Christmas Eve occurs and you know, normal life goes away again for a few days.

Today was boring again (I knnow, why the hell bother with blogging if nothing ever happens?) more cleaning, more games, more children who refuse to sleep.

Of games and sleepless children

2009-01-03T23:11:00.000-05:00

Note: It is difficult to post when your children strongly believe sleep is for the weak.

We have a lovely day today, though. We played the Cities and Knights expansion of Settlers of Catan for the first time and it was a blast (and no cleaning! Though I did sleep on the couch last night as there were three children on my side of the bed...)

Must get a California King!

NotD: OPI Vanilla-zuela

Me again

2009-01-02T23:38:00.000-05:00

I know, I know... Readers are dropping dead of heart attacks as we speak...

Today was a continuation of "The Great Toy Purge and Cleaning of 2008-2009, The Purge So Great, it Took Two Years." Bah! I've been at this for days and I'm pretty tired of it. Hopefully after tomorrow's boring blog entry (still cleaning...) I will finally be done.

Unfortunately with the massive amounts of cleaning comes lots of times for self reflection and thought. Never a good thing for me, of course. Turns out I still miss my father and cat. Who knew?

Okay, enough sarcasm for today. I promise, when the great purge is done there will be actual content.

No stitching today - only cleaning (actually, I sat down to stitch and promptly broke a glass. I took it as a sign from God.)

NOTD: Still NYC Molten Metal. But I've got some major tip wear (a cleaning issue, not a polish issue I think) so tomorrow I'm sure I'll be changing.

Happy New Year!

2009-01-01T23:39:00.001-05:00

Well, I'm going to desperately try to post more often this year. Call it a non-resolution for one who doesn't *do* resolutions (or talk about "this year being better" etc. I've been bitten on the ass enough by that one thankyouverymuch.)

So, consider this a filler post - hopefully the only one in a chatty year.

Current project: a counted canvaswork ornament
NOTD: NYC Molten Metal

O.M.G.

2008-11-05T09:23:00.002-05:00

Indiana went blue.

(aside to California: I'm sorry m but we have to break up now. You have let me down so thoroughly I can't even begin to explain it. Now my heart is in MA.)

Post-Olympic wrap-up

2008-08-26T00:53:00.004-04:00

First of all - serious kudos for those capable of blogging and stitching/knitting during the Olympics. How on Earth do you do it? For me the Olympics is the time I divorce my husband and plop in front of the TV for hours of uninterrupted competitive goodness. I watch it all. I'm utterly obsessed and inseparable from the TV. I can't stitch or even do logic puzzles. I'm just completely drawn in. So I am completely in awe of all of the Olympic stitching I have seen. (For the record, my obsession is not my fault - it's my father's. When I was younger he used to translate for sporting events and we got free tickets to attend. {In fact, I attended the first competition on US soil after the 1980 Olympics in which Soviet athletes competed.}So I've seem numerous track and field/aquatics competitions live, and have even been interviewed by the FBI after athletes defected. Ah, I miss the Cold War, don't you?) Oddly enough I glossed through the part of the Opening Ceremonies everyone else was going gaga over, I live for the Parade of Nations.

However, I did take one break during the Olympics (though it was darn inconvenient timing) and went to Projekt Revolution. My sister and I had a great time! (Not a surprise, we had a great time last year too.) We got there in time for Atreyu (Liz wanted to see them) and then kicked around until Chris Cornell took the stage (3 frickin' hours later.) Turns out we should have shown up earlier for Steel Drum Corp, because when we saw them later they completely rocked!) Year to year comparisons - I preferred last year. My Chemical Romance just stole the show. The lead singer is adorable and can put on one heck of an act (notice I'm trying to tone down the language - difficult when discussing punk.) Hearing Teenage live for a crowd of thousands was just amazing and the filler was awesome - more especially when he did We Will Rock You and an homage to dear sweet Mr. Mercury. Sigh. Although Cornell was pretty good. I just preferred MCR (oddly enough, I probably prefer Cornell's music, but MCR was a much better show.) The 80s chick in me was kinda miffed Busta' Rhymes pulled out. The would have been rather amusing to see, no? Let's see - significantly different demographics. Last year the average age had to be about 20. This year's was 30, easy. And a lots less pot. Seriously, much less. Last year by the end of the concert we were higher then kites (contact high people, contact high) and had the munchies something fierce. This year not at all. We didn't even stop for a late snack. Very odd. Of course, both years Linkin Park completely rocked. They know how to put on a live show and they do it well. Amazing energy, amazing connections with the audience. The perfect segues between fast, screaming songs and slow powerful ones. Whoever puts their set mix together show get an award - they do the most well balanced, thought out show I have ever seen. So, yeah, Liz and I have a date for next year, and it's cheap (we got lawn tickets for $15 and upgraded to Pavilion when we got there for $10 more making the tickets still cheaper then the actual price for the lawn seats.) Of course, PR routinely throws of my rocker chick, guitar heavy concert list, but I think it's probably worth it.

Now if only I could convince Queen + PR to extend their tour to the US. Please? Seriously, who do I have to kill to get Brian May to perform on US soil again?

Umm.. Brian May.

Movie quote meme

2008-08-25T11:30:00.007-04:00

Not that anyone reads this blog, but it seemed a fun thing to do.

1. Pick 15 of your favorite movies
2. Go to IMDb and find a quote from each movie.
3. Post them here for everyone to guess.
4. NO GOOGLING/using IMDb (or IMSDb) search functions.
5. Strike it out when someone guesses correctly, and put who guessed it and the movie.

Lots of these will be super simple as I'll probably use a favorite quote from each...

1) Some men get the world. Others get ex-hookers and a trip to Arizona.

2) Sir, the truth is I talk to God all the time, and no offense, but He never mentioned you.

3) - That was a very brave thing you did.
- Trying to catch the light?

4) So I was forced to deliver the news to a scared child who wanted nothing more than to play with other children. I had to tell this little boy that He was God's only Son, and that it meant a life of persecution and eventual crucifixion at the hands of the very people He came to enlighten and redeem. He begged me to take it back, as if I could. He begged me to make it all not true. And I'll let you in on something, Bethany, this is something I've never told anyone before... If I had the power, I would have. Suz is complete correct. Dogma - I adore this movie and the take it has on God and religion. One of the few movies I rented so many times I had actually spent more money then had I just bought it. So I did.

5) We need to get bigger guns. BIG FUCKING GUNS!

6) Memories are meant to fade. They're designed that way for a reason.

7) - Leonard, always get a receipt.
- That's good advice. I'll have to write that down.

8) ~~Tyrone, you know how much I love watching you work, but I've got my country's 500th anniversary to plan, my wedding to arrange, my wife to murder and Guilder to frame for it; I'm swamped.~~ Suz again. The Princess Bride - Admittedly a gimme, but how could you not love the line (or the movie?)

9) The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he did not exist. And like that... he is gone.

10) (two, because they're both too vague on their own)
You're beautiful.
Oh, the humanity!

11) Everything that you wanted I have done. You asked that the child be taken. I took him. You cowered before me, I was frightening. I have reordered time. I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for you! I am exhausted from living up to your expectations of me.

12) ~~We begin by coveting what we see every day.~~ Suz again. The Silence of the Lambs - I don't own this one, but I'm a complete lemming for it. Every time I flip by and it is on I have to watch the rest of it. It doesn't matter if it just started or if it is 5 minutes away from ending. I simply must watch it. Absolutely the best psychological thriller ever.

13) It's too bad she won't live! But then again, who does?

14) More's the pity. Then your tailors will rule the land, and no one will make the clothes. So much for French fashion, and French politics.

15) I don't know who you are or where you've come from, but from now on you'll do as I say, okay?

Enjoy!

The Glam Files - Case 1.0

2008-08-06T17:03:00.020-04:00

Wet 'n' Wild - Precious Metels - 354A Lilac Metel

So... I've been reading quite a bit of beauty and make-up porn recently. Which is rather odd considering I never wear make-up (other then lipstick. I'm a lipstick whore.) But, it's become my new obsession, as has finding make-up that truely doesn't look like make-up while hiding the fact that an entire alien army could be hiding in my pores and nobody would know... Stu likes to poke fun at me, but like all internet diversions it started innocently enough and in a completely different area.

I was frequently reading the Adagio Tea board. Because, well, I like tea and I order it from Adagio. One of the posters was a perfume blogger. And well, fragrence bloggers are their own beast. They buy, swap, and sell perfumes that retail for several hundred dollars a bottle. They describe scents I can't imagine. They actually like the smell of Chanel Number 5.

Just plain insane I tell you.

And completely out of my league. Though I've been wearing perfume more often and it is of a decent quality, it is no where near the niche perfumes that these people seek out. Turns out, though endlessly intriguing, I'm simply not the fragrence type.

But fragrence blogs led to make up blogs, as gateway drugs often do. Suddenly I found myself reading beauty and make up blogs daily. Obsessing over MUA and its FotD/EotD photos. I still can't imagine even attempting to carry off most of the looks at 31 and with three children. But ah, the drug was good and oh so enticing. I read and read about primer, foundation, powder, eye make up, lipstick, lip gloss, and nails. And it was still good. I took my husband out for dinner for his birthday and actually wore make up. And I didn't even feel that it looked like crap.

So here we are. I'm still not able to even contemplate wearing make up daily (or weekly, but maybe monthly.) But I'm back in the habit of painting my nails and still collecting lipsticks at a record pace.

On to the swatches -

This is not my normal color. I own maybe 15 polishes, and 13 of them are red. THis was a gift and I've been meaning to try it out for a while.

The left is two coats. I absolutely adore the effect. I'm more a rosey lilac then a true purple. The shimmer is thee, but the silver isn't overwhelming. The right is three. By three coats the purple is much more prominent and the silver is becoming much more powerful. Though I still like it, I greatly prefer two coats.

Again, two coats on left, three on the right. As for the polish itself. The application was easy - not too thick or too thin, and the feel is very smooth and slippery - not gritty or coarse. So even though it's not red. I just might like it anyway.

A Vignette

2008-08-05T10:08:00.002-04:00

More about life later - but first an interlude.

Saturday night we had done our usual dinner at DQ. Onion rings for me (something that always makes me all nostalgic as my dad and I used to do it all the time when I was a kids. Although, oddly enough, according to Liz he never did it with her,) fries for Stu, chicken finger meals for the kids, and ice cream for everyone after. We were on our way home when I noticed we weren't actually going home. Turns out we were continuing our new "actually talking on Saturday night" tradition (yes, for those of you who know me well, it is very unlike me. I have no clue how this began, I just know it is not me. You have my permission to be very afriad. But rest assured, I'm still silent as a churchmouse on almost everything. Wouldn't want to be communicative now would we?) and he wanted champagne, rather then the usual bottle of wine we split.

"But I don't have ID. I just grabbed money and the coupon."

"You haven't been carded in years. Just show them the grey hair if they ask."

*BONK*

So, I get out of the car, grab some champagne and, on a whim, some beer (for my biennial "Holy crap, I do hate beer!" reminder, and not the cheap stuff. If I'm going to hate beer, I'm going to hate a micro-brew.) Go up to the check-out and...

"Can I see your ID Miss?"

"No, I don't have it on me."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

At which point in time I basically collapsed into giggles. Yep folks, I was denied alcohol. I came out of the store with nothing but a grin and he just looked at me.

"You got carded?"

"Yep."

So, long story short he went in, got some champagne and we went on our way,

The bast part? He didn't get carded.

.

2008-03-13T12:04:00.001-04:00

She didn't make it.

The tumor had spread to her intestines.

Turns out Ukrainians can get drunk...

2008-03-11T23:09:00.000-04:00

You do have to pity the poor vodka. I've drunk it exactly two nights and it's easily over two-thirds gone.

Today was crappy. Yesterday was the second anniversary of dad's death. Today I signed papers that allow the vet to kill the creature I love the most in this world on Thursday. Yeah. I might be just the slightest bit drunk.

Addy has a massive tumor. As in, it wasn't there Friday, much less two weeks ago when she was at the vet twice for a surgical dental procedure. It's the size of a softball. Exploratory surgery is Thursday (assuming she lives that long, and will survive the anesthetic.) If the tumor can't be excised or if it involves her intestines (meaning the damage can't be repaired) he will put her to sleep rather then wake her back up.

The odds?

33% chance the anesthetic/surgery kills her. 33% cxhance the tumor is inoperable. Because I love her, I signed the appropriate paperwork so they could euthanize her if it is inoperable.

She'll be 10 and half on Easter Sunday, and I've had her since she was a few hours old. I'm the only mother she's even known and I have no clue how I'm expected to sleep at night without her.

The Tinkerbell Update

2008-03-10T23:31:00.001-04:00

I've been asked by a few friends to do a summation as to what it going on with Tinkerbell. Unfortunately, the answer to that question is "Hell if I know!" but I shall endeavor to give you all a brief summary:

- We noticed at about four months old that she had a killer-crazy attention span, and that you would routinely have to take toys away from her or she would become too engrossed in them and would become upset.

- At roughly five months old she started twitching her hands. It was obviously not a controlled action, it just happened. She also would repeatedly shake her head back and forth.

- At six months old the uncontrollable movements were happening quite a bit. I took her to her pediatrician who sent her to a pediatric neurologist.

- Said neurologist took one look at her and became quite concerned (she gave me "the look" which chilled me to the bone.) She ordered a slew of blood and urine tests as well as an MRI.

- The MRI came back abnormal - a diffuse loss of white brain matter to be precise.

- She had a minor (and singular) seizure in January.

- The urine test came back positive for ketones, which confirms the ketonic smell I have noticed on her (and her siblings) breath from time to time. Some of the actions toned down a bit as she was using her hands to crawl, etc. Unfortunately she had began to babble but pulled back. She still does not truly babble at all, but instead concentrates on a few utterances.

- We are currently preparing to run/running more blood and urine tests to rule in or out metabolic disorders. She did have a level two EEG come back normal, though.

- At her one year check up she weighed 17 pounds even, putting her under the 3rd percentile. This is actually a bigger dip then either of her siblings as she was up slightly higher then either of them.

There you have the basic timeline. We know something is wrong. We know she has metabolic issues. Are the metabolic issues leading to her neurological issues? Are they just the same issues her brother and sister have combined with something else neurological? Right now we are still in a waiting game. Wait and see what tests come back wonky, run more tests. Pray fervently that she does not backslide any more. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

There you have it. Of course that completely leaves out that she's a sweet, funny, loving girl who is almost always good tempered and giggling. She is incredibly intelligent (we think more so then Bear, which is scary.) She is also manipulative as heck and wants nothing more in life then to be held my one of her parents, even while sleeping. (This is the girl that at three days old figured out she could make sounds like she was hungry, get picked up and go straight back to sleep (without eating) in mommy's arms. After all, what good is life if no one is holding you? Even now she will be crying in her crib, if you pick her up and put her in bed, she will be completely out (and this is from a state of near-hysteria) before you can lay down next to her. I often wonder if Machiavelli would be a better nickname...

She is one of the apples of her parents' eyes. Hopefully this is all nothing, but if it's not that will still be true. Trust me, if you met her you could not help but to love her. I sometimes think that makes all of this that much more stressful. To love something so much and then to have to worry so much about it. Not fun. Not fun at all.

Moment of Truth

2008-03-07T23:21:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I'm watching the soul-killer that is FOX's Moment of Truth and was utterly shocked by the last question asked on Wednesday's show - "Do you expect to be married to your husband for the rest of your life?" The female contestant amped up the drama by hemming and hawing for a few minutes and then answered "Yes" with a smile on her face, and I instantly accused her of lying. In fact, I was down right shocked when the answer came back that she was telling the truth.

Seriously?

So I went down to my husband, dear old S, and told him the question, with the obvious answer of "No." He merely smiled, shook his head, and stated that the vast majority of people in the world would be utterly shocked by me. He then gave me a kiss and went to bed.

If you were to ask me to name the adjective that best described me I would without thinking or pausin for a second say "pragmatic." I may very well be the most practical person on the planet. I spend very little time dealing with emotions or possibilities and most of my time dealing with actualities. My answer would be no because I am female, my husband is 8 years older then I am, and his diet sucks. I would be flat out lying is I told you I expected to be married to him for the rest of my life because I fully expect him to die before I do. Do I expect to be married to him for the rest of his life? Yes.

So, is it just me? Or is there someone else out there who looks at these situations the same way?

And now for your moment of existential angst*

2008-03-04T23:34:00.000-05:00

*or holy crap, how the hell is Isabelle one?

So I have not been taking today's birthday very well. The existential funk started over the weekend and is now completely in full bloom. I no longer have a baby and will never have one again. Throw in a few "Wah!"s and you have my pity party.

I've been trying to figure out the "whys" of this particular situation. My guesses -

A) I am so completely defined my motherhood it freaks me out to not have that crutch

A1) This is made worse by the distinct possibility this definition will last much longer then it usually does. Special need kids do not necessarily "leave the nest" so to speak.

B) I just the slightest bit regret the whole tubal ligation thing. Not that I would ever want to be pregnant again. (Pregnancy=the Devil, and the whole miscarriage thing sucks.) That being said no pregnancy equals no nursing, and well, I enjoy nursing. It's a nice bonding experience.

B1) Interestingly enough last night my husband told me that he fully expects us to adopt in the future. Yeah, I wanted to push that point, but I never expected him to bring it up.

C) I feel that with these last two I missed a lot of the first year. With Giggles there was the whole "hey look, I'm pregnant" thing and with Tinkerbell there have been just overwhelming health concerns that have had us completely on edge.

D) Damn if I just don't enjoy babies.

E) I seriously seem to be incapable of remembering to take Zoloft daily.

F) My period arrived.

Yeah, I'm a peach, I tell ya. More explanation (and frequent posting) later.

Happy Birthday to Me!

2007-11-22T23:28:00.000-05:00

Okay, I had to share it with Thanksgiving, which kind of sucked, but it was a great day!

I got to sleep in, and then I scrubbed down the kitchen with some nervous energy. When we went over to mom's for lunch/dinner we ate and ate and then I cleaned up with the rest of my energy. We had some Cognac (how do people drink that stuff?) and had a spiked Black Forest birthday cake. Then I got my ass beaten at Pinochle.

All in all it was a nice laid back day.

Hope y'all had a great Thanksgiving!

And we have tooth

2007-11-14T01:13:00.000-05:00

;-)

Yeah to the one bright spot! Gigglebutt has a toofers!

And I was given some lovely anti-anxiety meds. Turns out if you look like absolute crap and have a hell of a sob story (albeit a true one) those lovely white coat types will hand you mood-altering drugs until the higher levels of SSRIs kick in. Xanax is my new best friend. And he's a very good friend at that.

MRI is Friday. At this point in time I'm not sure what sort of outcome we're looking for. She's backpedalled a bit - cooing and ah-ing instead of babbling. We're praying to any deity that will listen that it's merely a phase and not a portent of things to come.

In lesser news - pins and needle test tomorrow. Hopefully my arm is either severe enough for surgery or light enough a shot will knock it out.

See y'all after two doctor's appointments, an hour volunteering at school, Market Day pickup, and a belated anniversary date.

And some more Xanax.

Can't forget the Xanax.

If you have nothing nice to say...

2007-11-11T23:26:00.001-05:00

Don't say anything.

Yeah, that's what we spent our childhood's learning. Golden rule and all that. Unfortunately, it's also the reason I haven't been updating. Life has been, to put it bluntly, hell.

But hey, it might not be getting any better, so I may as well post now.

Today is our fifth anniversary. We officially dubbed it "the most unlikely day in history." Oddly enough our marriage is just fine, it's just everything else that is going to hell.

To wit:

My brother-in-law had an actual psychotic break. Seriously. And no, not loads of fun.

Bear is having a truly crappy time in school and even in girl scouts. Autism rears its ugly head.

Giggles is not speaking. Like not at all. Like speech therapist visiting the home and desperate attempts at sign language sort of not at all.

My husband had a complete nervous breakdown cause by stress and anxiety (see all items listed here.)

And, worst of all, there is something wrong, probably terribly wrong with the baby. We have an MRI scheduled for Friday and a slew of genetic tests next week. Rett's is the current forerunner, and that's scary as all shit, to be blunt. And the worst part? All she does wrong is wave her hands and shake her head. Other then that she's currently a sweet, fairly smart and strong child. But it seems that will all change.

Finally, the most trivial, but the one that makes the other worse - I can't use my right hand due to numbness in the thumb and first two digits (probably carpal tunnel). Meaning I can't stitch. Meaning I can't relax. Ever.

So I'm angry and pissed and depressed and not doing a good job on not saying not nice things.

But Bah! It could be ages before I post a happy, so I'm going with it.

Y'all be good now...

2007-05-29T00:12:00.000-04:00

I'm off to England for a bit more then a week.

See you on the flip side!

We just barely dodged the bullet

2007-05-19T01:18:00.001-04:00

Today's emergency?

A neighbor reporting to us that an orange cat had been killed and wondering if it was ours. (Seriously, there have been no HBCs in this area the entire time we've lived here. Now two in three days.) Of course, for the first time in history we could guarantee her that it was not our cat. After all, he's upstairs locked in a bathroom recovering, you know, from being hit by a car.

Wacky co-inky-dink, that.

She was very relieved - she loves Buttercup to death, it turns out.

As for his lovely adventure, I came down Wednesday morning late, after playing upstairs with the kids for a few hours. I noticed his head was all cut up and thought he had been in a fight. (Which in itself is odd as he is a cat that avoids conflict and never fights with anyone.) I went and gathered all of my post-fight cat supplies (gauze, H2O2, Neosporin, Q-Tips, No-Hurt wash, etc.) and went to go treat him. That's when I realized he wasn't dirty, no that "dirt was a tire tread. Of course, our vet was closing in 15 minutes (vets in the Midwest almost universally take Wednesday afternoon off to compensate for Saturday morning.) And when I called I was informed he has left early, but was given the name of another practice. I called them, they faxed over his records, and I was out the door (unshowered and with a skirt thrown over my nightgown in 1 minute flat. My overly-pragmatic streak can come in handy at times.) The exam showed no neurological damage but major pelvic pain. So I waited out the X-Rays to see how bad the news was. Shockingly enough the news was great but expensive. Not a single broken bone just a dislocated hip that once repaired would lead to no long-term problems. Of course, if the simple reduction and splinting (now just reduction as he kicked the splint off three times) doesn't work we'll have to spend a small fortune getting his hip screwed back into the socket. But better expensive and fixable then shattered pelvis and needing to be euthanized. All in all we (and he) were very lucky. Which is good. Because, he is seriously the sweetest cat on the planet. Purrs non-stop. Even while at the vet getting X-Rayed after being hit by a car. That's how sweet he is.

In the past 36 hours

2007-05-18T01:12:00.000-04:00

I've been to three different hospitals with three different emergencies.

Bear's cat Buttercup got hit by a car. (Fret it not, he's surprisingly well...)
Giggles fell and split open his chin.
And my mother suffered from a major concussion in what has to be the strangest accident ever.

Seriously people?

Seriously?

I actually managed to develop a full flush facial rash as a response to all the the stress. I can't even recognize myself in the mirror (No, seriously. It looks like my face has been beaten up badly my a baseball bat.)

So, goal for Friday: (Oddly enough, the same goal for Thursday, but I'm hoping this one sticks.) No trips to the damn ER!

While I Was Out

2007-03-12T14:45:00.000-04:00

Isabelle Marie Burke
March 4, 2007
7 pounds, 4 ounces
19.5 inches

Holy Crap!

2007-01-22T01:01:00.000-05:00

The Colts are going to Miami!

Who woudda thunk it? Especially after the beating we took in the first half.

But, geeze Louise, Superbowl here we come!

Of course this means I will actually have to watch the game, which will be a new and different experience for me, I'll admit.

But still, cool. Very, very cool.

The medical updates I've been avoiding

2007-01-19T23:09:00.000-05:00

By age...

Husband - He's doing fairly well. His back hasn't really been bothering him for quite some time. Unfortunately, his testosterone levels have still been running low, and since I've been pregnant, he can't take anything for it. His blood pressure is the real problem though (it's a trend!) It's running quite high, and he's refusing to schedule another appointment to get it checked. Men! He can fix it himself, he claims. Unfortunately, I happen to know his family history as well as his eating habits, etc. Not bloody likely... But Heaven forbid he go in and get it checked out and taken care of.

Me - Definitely with the pre-eclampsia, but it's thus far somewhat mild (on an absolute scale. One a relative scale to my normal bp it's completely out of control.) I was a +1 on protein this week (I was trace last) and my bp had inched up a couple of points. (My weight, however, still down. Heck, I lost 5 pounds in the two weeks over Christmas, this is hardly surprising. Especially when you take into consideration that pre-eclampsia increases nausea. Um, gee, thanks?) My OB offered to hospitalize me but didn't push it too hard. So I politely declined. I'll be 32 weeks Tuesday, so at least that's good. I had a mega ultrasound Wednesday and the baby is at about 4 pounds and looking good for now. So, here's to hoping that rest can control it and I'll see 36 weeks.

Bear - Still having "issues" at school. Now completely obsessed with death (it was the death of the young cat that drove her completely over the edge.) Still less dense then air. She's having pains in her legs, so we're now keeping detailed records as to which leg to see if it's growing pains or something to be more concerned with.

Giggles - The tough one. He was 18 pounds at 6 months (90th percentile.) At 12 months? 18 pounds. He gained about 13 ounces in six months, dropping 80+ percentiles. He was "officially" diagnosed as having failure to thrive. There is the distinct chance I completely and utterly broke down in the doctor's office after he said that. Two for two. Now the words "genetic" and "inherited metabolic disorder" and being banded around very seriously again. We know it's not environmental, I've moved twice since Bear was born, and not at all since he was. I cant even begin to get into how much this bothers me. I feel like a complete failure as a parent.

Sunday, Sunday... *

2007-01-17T17:30:00.000-05:00

Well, Sunday was it. Our last week at the church that we've been attending (and by "we" I mean the children and I.) It was completely miserable. Most depressing church service ever, and, of course, I didn't think to bring tissues. Afterwards there was a lovely lunch, but I really don't think lunch quite makes up for the injustices involved. That's not even mentioning having to sit through speeches made by those people who removed the pastors in the first place about how "special" and "wonderful" the pastors were and how "they will be deeply missed." Yeah, right.

I haven't settled on a new congregation yet, and considering my health, I'm not even sure about the possibilities of visiting new churches before the baby is born. Add that to fears she will be born to early and slight panic has begun to set in.

Bah!

Of course, what makes me the most angry is the fact that evil triumphed over good. That after a formal vote of confidence succeeded overwhelmingly, the board of elders still managed to fire the pastors involved. Yes, it was very clever (and I give great credit to them for said cleverness,) but that doesn't make it right or appropriate (especially as we are discussing a church.) One would think that dishonestly and breaking the rules would not be things that a board of elders should be encouraged to do.

About a third to a half of the congregation is leaving over this (including virtually all of the children. There will literally be one couple left with children and hey never attend Sunday School.) People are choosing to leave for a variety of reasons - the fact that the firing was so dishonest; the fact that the second "contemporary" service will be discontinued; the fact that it is estimated that the church will be without a permanent pastor for at least two years; the fact that the pastors were treated so shamefully; and the fact that bigotry has now become a value that the church elders have decided to embrace.

We're leaving for pretty much all of those reasons, but the end all, be all, really is the direction in which the church will now take. I simply can not, in good conscience, be a member of a church that believes that hated, exclusion, and bigotry are Christian values. I can not go to church every Sunday and send my children to Sunday school and have to actively worry about what they are going to hear preached from the pulpit or from their teachers. I changed denominations because I couldn't stand for that possibility to exist, and I am certainly not going to stand by and watch it happen anyway. Of course, my husband is embracing this full heartedly and constantly reminding me that this is his exact problem with organized religion. I keep parroting back that it's not Christian behavior to do what these people are doing. That humanity is Christianity's downfall, not vice-versa.

The one positive - the message of the service and the sermon were wonderful (those parts that weren't just tear-stained.) You could tell they had been saving it up for quite some time, and they got all of their digs in. But they got their digs in in a Christian manner. The sermon was about love, understanding, openness, and the willingness to accept all as Christ would regardless of personal feelings. That God is still speaking and wishes for a message of love for everyone to be heard. It really was a thing of beauty (and it didn't hurt that my personal favorite verse John 13:34 was what the sermon was based around.)

You know, Jesus was such a kind and caring fellow - it's a shame so many of his followers refuse to emulate him.

Enough religious ranting.

* With my apologies to The Mamas and the Papas

At some point in time God comes down and tells us it's all a joke, right? RIGHT?

2007-01-07T15:47:00.000-05:00

So....

Yesterday we come home from a movie and find that one of my sister's kittens is dead. Don't know how/etc. Just dead.

So we take it to my SMiL's to bury it (yes, it is legal there) and find out that her father's dog, which she has had since he died about 4 years ago, died the day after Christmas. Under what can only be described as absolutely horrific circumstances.

Seriously, this must end, because the ruined holidays are just adding up. (For the record, one day after Thanksgiving, one day after Christmas, and one Christmas Eve [we are Ukrainian, after all.]) Add to this the terrifying fact that I'm in the early stages of pre-eclampsia at 29w (30 on Tuesday!) and am supposed to be relaxing.

Yeah.

I swear to God if this baby comes before 32 weeks I will just lose it.

So, anyone wanna switch lives? Anyone?

Hey! Where are you all going?

You know that feeling. . .

2006-11-30T00:00:00.000-05:00

When you cry and cry and cry, so much so that when you stop, for the rest of the day you just feel completely and utterly exhausted?

Yeah, I'm right about there and have been for days.

Tomorrow we try to go back and insert ourselves back into real life.

I'd have to see it to believe it.

So, I'm a moron (part 5,376)

2006-11-26T16:55:00.000-05:00

Yeah, I actually said, "I'm. . . Seriously hoping this week is much better." So that makes me, what? The biggest idiot ever?

My birthday did actually go well. I found out that the tree I decorated for Bear's school won second place (out of over 40, not bad for a first try!) We had a nice dinner, etc. Then mom started not feeling well and by Thanksgiving morning had a full blown bad resurgence of diverticulitis. After some agonizing we still decided to go visit my family in Evansville, taking the children and my sister. So my husband finally got to meet the one uncle he hadn't met yet and that was nice.

Then his cell phone rang very early Friday morning. You know it's bad when the best thought you have while listening to a conversation is "maybe it was just a small heart attack." Unfortunately, that would have been good news. His grandmother died.

So, yeah, our holiday was wonderful.

We did end up staying until Saturday (no real point in going home) and tomorrow we have all the great funeral sorts of things that you have to do.

Count since March 1? One father, one grandmother, one cousin, one uncle, and one son of said father's best friend. Yeah, I'm kinda over the entire "people dying" thing. It can stop now.

The perfect end to the perfect week

2006-11-21T12:33:00.000-05:00

Yesterday Bear and I were completely wiped out by some sort of 24 hour stomach bug. You too can experience the joy of puking every two hours. Sigh. But we're better today other then some residual stomach muscle pain and minor dehydration.

Sunday church was miserable (and a ghost town) due to our pastors resigning after having been rather cleverly fired (albeit in a dishonest way) by the board of elders. Now I will probably have to find a new congregation as these pastors and their beliefs were the reason I joined the church in the first place. Sigh.

Friday my wallet was stolen from my purse. I found this out Saturday morning when Bear and I tried to go to a brunch and the tickets were in my wallet. They had charged up about $800 on two different cards by the time I got around to canceling them. Conveniently VISA will be taking care of everything, but I still have to replace all sorts of stuff and finalize a police report, etc. etc. Sigh.

Saturday night was at least nice. It was a joint birthday party for myself, my father-in-law, and my step-mother-in-law (at 30, 60, and 61 respectively.) It was mostly for my FIL, at he's turning 6-0 and all. But we got to see lots of family and friends and Bear got to play quite a bit with her cousins (they had their own party set up.)

Unfortunately, before said party we went to visit S's grandmother for the first time in the nursing home. (She had a fall and broke her hip. Combined with the Parkinson's, which is going downhill fast, it looks like she may not be going back home.) Obviously Mister necrophobiac is seriously not handling this well (not that anyone would, but he's worse then most,) and, well, I could have lived the rest of my life without having to reenter another nursing home again. She was not doing well while we were there, which made things worse (though when my FiL and SMiL went to visit the next day she was much better and thrilled the kids had visited.) And she had that look that people get in nursing homes that make them look nothing like themselves. So, seriously not pleasant.

So, I'm counting yesterday as the end of last week and seriously hoping this week is much better.

Because, Blech!

Re: Eating for Three and Knitting

2006-11-08T11:08:00.000-05:00

Eating for three -

Giggles is still being breastfed. (He's obviously still under a year, and no, I have no plans to wean him before the other one is born.) So I'm eating for myself, the baby, and Giggles. Thank God not twins. We wouldn't have room in the car!

Knitting -

Thank you Warrior Knitter for the tips. I figured out binding off from your description, but had to use the site you suggested to figure out casting on. It's seems I'm just a complete knitting moron. I then undid my practice piece and have started making a little sweater (simple, simple pattern) for OxFam. I have also started a simple scarf (seed stitch? Maybe?) for Bear. Will have pictures after Thanksgiving. I accidentally left our camera in Florida.

D'oh!

Oh my goodness

2006-11-08T00:19:00.000-05:00

Not only have the democrats done incredibly well nationwide, but...

Indiana is somehow now a blue state.

I honestly never thought the day could ever come. Our representatives are 5:4 and our congressional delegation is 6:5. Democratic majority.

And the Indiana house has also swung Democratic (although the Senate is overwhelmingly Republican.)

In all honestly it just seems completely surreal.

Mind you, I don't expect the state to vote for a democratic president anytime soon. But still...

Now we all just watch the Senate and wait to see if a recount is demanded in Virginia.

(On a personal sidenote - in the two races in which I either knew the candidate or the candidate's wife personally both were won by the person I knew. Baron Hill reclaimed his seat in the House and Ron Richardson was won as Sheriff of Madison County. A good, good night.)

As per usual, I am an over-reactive twit

2006-10-26T23:44:00.000-04:00

So, the ultrasound was today, and, yes, everything was just fine.

In fact, everything is girl-fine.

Bear is thrilled.

Baby was all curled up and sleeping like her mamma likes to (even down to the one hand under her head thing.) Everything appears to be just fine. This was an "actually seeing my OB" visit and she was very nice and cheerful. Though she did make the obligatory "you do know how people become pregnant" remark. My weight is still dead-even from my first visit, but considering the nausea (bad, but no where close to the same ball-park as with Giggles) and the fact that I am eating for three, that's a good thing.

I'm starting to think the lack of felt movement is a stress thing and that now that the stress has cleared up I will magically begin feeling her soon.

Oh, and let the naming battles begin!

Tick, tock, tick, tock. . .

2006-10-25T12:13:00.000-04:00

Well, I did some much needed housekeeping around these parts, and I think I have everything mostly updated. Be warned though, griddlers.net, while a wonderful place, is also the biggest time suck ever. We shouldn't even discuss how much time I have spent there working on puzzles since I found the site. Let's just say that around two hundred hours would seems to be correct. Ouch! But, seriously folks, yummy, yummy logic puzzles.

I have also recently denied nearly thirty years of precedent and attempted to, once again, learn to knit. This time, with much daily practice, the lessons seem to be sticking. However, I will be stuck soon without some help as I don't know how to cast off, I don't remember how to cast on and I'm running out of yarn. Thus far I've made about two feet of practice stitches, and I'm fairly proud that after the first few days the number of glaring errors (aka holes) significantly decreased. Go me! I also figured out the entire "when doing the rib stitch (or any stitching that switches from knitting to purling on the same row) you have to physically move the yarn" thing. Okay, so that may have taken quite a few tries to learn, but still...

As for the ticking time bomb, tomorrow is my ultrasound (19w2d) and I am very freaked out about it. Giggles didn't make an appearance until 17 weeks, and I panicked about that. Obviously at two weeks later I'm a bit concerned. Not to mention constant cramping (no blood, just mildish cramping) and so on and so forth. When S asked why I was so concerned, I was able to answer honestly. I've never even been close to having two successful pregnancies in a row (more about that in a later post) and so it just seems wrong. Not to mention the fact that I didn't have a weeks 4-7 panic fit while waiting to see a heartbeat because, oh, I didn't know I was pregnant. So I'm worrying now.

Hey, at least I'm logical with my panicking. And I do comprehend why I'm doing it. That garners me some stray sanity points, right?

Breathe in, breathe out

2006-09-28T21:09:00.000-04:00

Being very nice to your OB's scheduler does cut you some slack when you call in the morning begging for an emergency appointment.

It took awhile to find the heart beat, but once found it was nice and steady and strong.

Sigh.

She basically said that it was the equivalent of smoking. Not good, but if there wasn't a miscarriage because of it, not the end of the world.

We still have no gas. Blech! Tomorrow, hopefully. Showers at home would be nice.

Cue complete and total freakout

2006-09-28T01:33:00.000-04:00

So, we've all had headaches and general ugh-ness. Sear S goes to the doctor who casually mentions we might have a natural gas leak. Hahaha. We laugh it off, but call anyway, knowing we have nothing to worry about. (When, oh when will we learn? Yeah, never.)

Or, you know, we could have a major leak and the gas to our home had to be shut off.

Cue aforementioned panic.

I called my OB's "on call" number. Her associate basically said there was o reason to come in at the moment. Either damage was done (which is to say a lack of Oxygen, which is to say death) or it wasn't. Nothing could be done about it either way.

I can't believe I saw a heartbeat and am still in a horrid downward spiral panicking about a dead baby.

I'm planning on calling my OB and begging for a Doppler tomorrow. If that doesn't work I'm going to call our GP and beg my way in there. If I have to kill someone I will get a Doppler tomorrow.

Now you'll just have to excuse me as I panic and get ill in the corner.

Six month snippets

2006-09-21T22:41:00.000-04:00

Well, hello everyone.

Yes, yes, I know it's been a heck of a while since I've updated, and well, a whole crap-load of stuff has happened since then. So let's just leave it at "my bad" and move on, shall we?

'Cause one socio-emotional disorder is never enough...

Last February we took Bear in to the Genetics Clinic at Riley Hospital (the local children's hospital for those who are not local.) It was literally the most amazing doctor's appointment I have ever witnessed. Before arriving I filled out about an inch worth of paperwork detailing just about every family medical historical thing you can imagine as well as a detailed family tree. Not only did they read it, they had it memorized. Yes, I'm serious. No wonder they only have one new appointment a week. We were there a total of about eight hours. First there was a very exhaustive interview. Then Bear got the most detailed physical exam of her life. Every blemish, birth mark, mole, and slight genetic malformation was duly noted (turns out the cute button nose I'm so damn fond of is actually a genetic deformity, who knew?). Finally the geneticist (scientist), councilor (social scientist), and grad student left us for about an hour (we got some food, naturally.) When they came back we were in for what was to be the second great shock of my life. Tourette's Syndrome. Yes, as in (pardon my language) holy sh*t, m&th*r F(*^$^ Tourette's Syndrome. Turns out it's a dominant gene that is rather damn prominent in my branch of the family. It also turns out that the entire cursing thing is entirely male and still only in about 5% of the cases. In women it presents as a rather classic obsessive-compulsive disorder. In men the tics are far more prominent. So hubby was right - I am the reason Bear is so darn wacky. We broke the news to my mother's relatives during the viewing/funeral time and they were thrilled. After all, it's not everyday you learn you can curse with abandon and smile and get away with it. You'd think we gave then a decade's worth of Christmas presents. Of course, there goes my "we prefer to think of ourselves as eccentric" label. But, hey, at least now we know more of what is going on. Unfortunately, unlike autism, in which certain behaviors to a certain extent can be relearnt and corrected with Tourette's you are pretty much stuck. So Bear's therapy has had to go into some new directions. Not great, but knowledge is power, right? Oh, on a side note, Bear's diagnosis (ASD or PDD-NOS) was reconfirmed by one of the leading autism clinics in the country, and she has begun taking therapy there. It turns out every once in a great while a republican congressman can do a great amount of good, but only if it pertains to something that directly affected his family.

So, it turns out my husband wouldn't be cheating in the Tour de France...

Unlike the displace ex-winner, my husband has recently been diagnosed with low testosterone. Unfortunately the cure for which involves slathering a gel on your shoulders and then not allowing then near you children or you nursing wife. So he also gets the joy of fully bathing twice a day. On the bright side - funniest drug information packet ever! So many euphemisms for sex, so little time. Couples were asked to "vigorously rub abdomens" and spent time in "close physical, skin-on-skin proximity." Seriously folks, if a man is old enough to have low testosterone and be using this gel, he should be able to read that having sex will transfer the testosterone to his wife. So don't do it! Or bathe, or wear a shirt, or... Okay, you get the point. Anyway, it's very cute, especially with all the hubbub about the Tour. I was giggling and singing for days about how my husband would test just fine, with a doctor's excuse and all.

I'm not depressed, I just might snap and kill you...

While my father was ill I was diagnosed with more then just a touch of an anxiety disorder. I know, I found the news shocking too. So Zoloft and I are now fast friends. That's not to say there haven't been days and that I haven't realized that I am capable of some very dangerous coping mechanisms. (The "I need drugs now" moment was during my second full blown panic attack in 4 hours when I realized that both times I was using the early stages of all out self mutilation as a calming mechanism. And it was working. Scared the living daylights out of me.) So there have been some (read: a summer long) depressive spots, but I think that over all I'm fairly well controlled and doing well.

How about one natural disaster a year...

The exterior of our home was completely totaled during a hail storm (one we were driving in, and in fact the same one that caused the second of the afore mentioned panic attacks.) So after much fighting with our insurance company (actually, not so much fighting as saying "no" politely but firmly very often) we have new siding, new gutters, new drain spouts, new shutters, and a new roof. We went ahead and changed the color of the house. After all, everything but the first floor brick exterior was torn off and replaced. We now have a super-cool green roof. Total cost was somewhere in the neighborhood of 15K. Ouch. But it's taken care of and out rates won't go up because it was a disaster area. Now we're just hoping we don't get hit by another one in 2007. After all, how many disasters can strike the Midwest? (I know, a bad question from someone whose home was hit by two tornadoes exactly one year apart. Stupid, silly question!)

Mainstreaming sucks...

Bear is being mainstreamed for her last year of preschool. It is going badly. Very badly. As in "bi-weekly meetings with her teachers and the principal" badly. Badly enough it will get it's own post eventually. Badly enough we are thisclose to pulling her out.

You will make this cat well, or I will kill you...

Our summer excitement came after our family trip to the Dunes and then some time in Chicago. We came home to a dead (and completely decomposed and maggot infested) rabbit at my mother's house. I was at home cleaning up and putting things away, everyone else was over there. I get this phone call, "come over now. We need you." Yeah, one 17 year old and two adults both older then I am, and I get to be the one who cleans up the maggot infested carcass and carpeting. Of course, I was also too stupid to even put up a fight about it. I just took one look, sighed, and began cleaning. After all of that was done mom's cat got very ill. As in "Oh crap, she might die" ill. So at 1AM I got to rush her to the local emergency clinic. Luckily it was very fixable (though a few hours later...) and she's all better now. But there was the great worry that now mom's cat was going to die. And that simply could not be allowed to happen.

Speaking of small, stupid furry objects...

We might have accidentally acquired two more kittens after I pulled the "my father died and I want them" card and my sister had already gotten some. They are very sweet, I am very happy.

Well, there was one other bit of news...

So, cough, cough, it turns out that breastfeeding is not the most effective form of birth control out there. You can't even begin to imagine my surprise when not only did the two little lines show up, but they showed up quickly. I ended up taking the test at like 9 weeks, so I was a bit late in finding out. My favorite part was calling my OB and answering the "date of last period" question. March 27, 2005. Needless to say we needed an ultrasound for dating. Our last child is due March 20th. We're excited (though a bit shocked it happened so quickly) and happy.

The first day of the rest of your life

2006-03-20T23:00:00.000-05:00

Today was "the first day of the rest of my life." Of course, that phrase has become so trite as to have almost completely lost any meaning. In actuality banner days of change are a rarity in any lifetime. The day after your wedding (or, perhaps more correctly, after you return from your honeymoon), the day after you have a child, the day you graduate for the last time, and the day life returned to normal after the death of a loved one - these are pretty much the banner days in any life.

Today everyone went back to work or school. Today we all underwent our normal routines for the first time since January 18th. There were no hospitals, no nursing homes, no funeral arrangements, and no extra time to grieve. For the first time in two months the hours were not determined by visiting hours or the church. Today was simply an ordinary day like hundreds before it and like the thousands that will follow it. I went to the doctor's appointment I had to cancel the morning my father died. I kissed my husband and daughter as they went on their separate ways this morning. I tended to the baby, planned a birthday party, and arranged appointments. We went to Bear's favorite restaurant for lunch and by husband's favorite one for dinner. The only anomaly that spoke to the recent past was when I visited my father's grave on the way home from lunch and wondered who had arranged the flowers. And yet, that too will become a common part of my life.

Today life just was, and that in itself was both impossibly difficult and full of relief.

Tomorrow also will simply be.

I've been warned that things will hit at odd little moments. That an odd phrase or item will set off the grief. I already don't go to bed until I'm so exhausted that thought is impossible and sleep is all that is left. This is my new life. One so full of change so soon after other great changes. Two children, one wedding, the diagnosis of Bear with autism, and now this - these are the defining moments that change lives for better and for worse. These are all the days that just are.

When it's in print it's actual

2006-03-11T11:06:00.000-05:00

Right?

Indy Star

or

Evansville Courier Press

Argh, what a day. And today we get the fun of going to the cemetary.

Still too exhausted to have it really hit, I'm sure it wil by Monday. Thanks you everyone for your kind words and concern.

Finis.

2006-03-10T16:21:00.000-05:00

My father passed away this morning, it was much more quick then we anticipated.

Luckily it was fairly peaceful.

You know what's a whole lot of fun?

2006-03-03T13:34:00.000-05:00

Telling your father's best friend over the phone that while he was out of the country on the other side of the freakin' planet, we found out he was dying. Yeah, it's a blast.

Dad's best friend returned home last night and called this morning. There was a lot of "but he was fine when I left" and "how is everyone doing?" and "I'm so sorry" (from both parties) -s going on. It truly sucked. It might have even been worse then leaving the original message on an answering machine and then e-mailing him, and both are admittedly craptastic ways of conveying information.

He was sweet and kind and wonderful as usual, but seriously with the suckage.

I think that's it. Most of his classmates know, his relatives have been informed, and all of his close friends now know. True, that doesn't mean the random phone calls will stop for quite sometime, but at least the heartbreaking ones will.

You know what else blows? I've never spoken to my uncle and don't even know his name.

Bah!

An open letter to my father's doctors

2006-02-18T16:05:00.000-05:00

Drs. X, Y, and Z:

I am writing you today because you are the physicians that have been responsible for treating my father, John, and his cancer. As I'm sure you are aware, he originally had kidney cancer back in May of 2001 and it has now metastasized throughout his body, affecting his liver, other kidney, lungs, and brain. Of course, it should come as a shock to you that his family is even aware of the fact that he has cancer ion some place other then his brain. None of you have ever bothered to tell us that the cancer had spread throughout his entire body. You allowed a third of his lung to be removed five months ago and never informed us that the operation was merely briefly extending the inevitable. You never informed us that CAT scans had shown that the cancer was widespread and that there was literally no hope for improvement. You have been much less then honest with us about his condition, and according to the nurse that finally shared this information with us, this is a very common thing to have occur.

I can not even begin to tell you how your decision to withhold this information has effected our lives, but I feel it is important that I try so that I can hopefully spare another family the pain we have experienced.

Financially and legally you have left us in a precarious position. My father was quite phobic about death and as a result had no will, power of attorney, medical power of attorney, DNR, etc. That being said he was a very practical person. Had he known that he was going to be incapacitated soon and that his death was imminent he would have signed all of the appropriate paperwork easily allowing for all of the necessary transitions and decision making. Now he is mentally unable to sign any documents. He is barely lucid in his good moments, and no notary would sign off on his consent. Luckily, there will be no jockeying over his estate. The only claimants to it are all in agreement as to how it should be split. However, we realize that this is very rarely the case. What if he had half or step children that needed to be cared for? What if he had ailing parents or a previous wife who needed to receive something? What if his children wanted to make a claim against his estate instead of letting it transfer directly to his wife? Not to mention the various accounts that are being held in only his name or in his name and the name of one of his children. His Social Security for his minor child will have to be dealt with as he is currently named as her guardian on it. The family's lock-box only has his name listed on it. If he is still alive as on April 15th he will be unable to sign off of tax returns, etc. There are simply too many things that must be dealt with. Had we been informed of his illness when he was still well enough to sign documents we would not be experiencing any of these problems. As is, we will have to contact and attorney and try to make a difficult transition as smooth as possible. None of you seem to realize that these practicalities must be dealt with. It is impractical to not give people the opportunity to settle their estates. You need to take these considerations to mind! You have chosen to put us into this difficult state and we, as a family, are all in agreement. I can not imagine the added difficulties within families in which there is conflict about these decisions. You completely ignored the practical ramifications of your decision to withhold this information from us.

Medically, you lack of information to us has led to confusion, a medical crisis, and difficult decisions all of which you manufactured. Because you did not inform his personal physicians of his diagnosis we were quite confused as to what might be wrong with him (as were they.) Stress? A Stroke? A possible tumor? (Which we were told was the most unlikely prospect, imagine finding out how wrong we were.) We signed on to painful and upsetting treatments because we were told they might bring him back to some form of lucidity (treatments that the ordering doctors were unaware were unnecessary because they were also unaware of his condition). I took him to a doctor's visit completely unaware that it was going to be the last time he was ever going to be home. That moment will now forever be me putting him in a car and leaving with him having no opportunity to say goodbye or to know this goodbye was coming. Has he started oral steroids earlier and had we simply rejected radiation, he would not have crashed so hard so quickly causing a crisis so grave that returning home was suddenly not an option. We would have saved him much aggravation and upset had we known that it was all going to be in vain or had we stared some form of palliative treatment earlier. He had a fall that landed him in the ER and my mother had to make several wrenching decision about treatment, all of which would have been quite simple, had we know what his actual prognosis was.

Of course, worse then the financial/legal/medical matters are the emotional ones. I had a child last December 9th. I spent a month convinced my father was dying because of this. If we had had more emotional/physical energy to tend to him and realize how bad his downturn was. Did we not get him to a doctor quickly enough? Had my son not been born could we have noticed or acted more quickly, perhaps saving his life? Of course, now I know that the brain tumors are the least of his problems and that finding them a month earlier would not have helped matters at all, but you have no clue about the agony that I experienced thinking that my son;s birth and the resultant chaos of the next month might have led to his death. Can you even imagine what it feels like to feel directly responsible for the death of your parent? I felt that agony every day for a month, and I can assure you it was complete hell. Can you imagine how difficult it was to deal with a sweet and loving infant while wondering if he had not been born that your father would live? To have to contemplate whether or not the trade-off was worth it? To try to decide the relative values of these two lives that you love so deeply? I assure you, again, that you can not begin to imagine what it is like until you have experienced it for yourself. I am forever grateful to the nurse that went over his chart with us so that I can put those demons to rest and will not have to feel guilt over these things for the rest of my life. A guilt that your lying to us about his condition would have left me with forever. It was a downright cruel thing to do to me. We had plans to baptize our son this spring, not of course, he will completely miss it. Something that in his brief moment of lucidity completely stresses him out. We have no photographs of the two of them together, and now because radiation has so greatly altered his appearance, we never will. I took my father to a neurologist one day after prying/bullying him out of bed and assuring him he could shave later, and he will never, ever come back home. I unwittingly lied to my father and it's the last thing he will remember me doing. All of these things could have been helped/stopped if you had only told us the truth. As for my mother, she went for a follow-up check with her radiologist was assured her that there were tons of things that could be done for brain tumors and that he was horrified that she had stopped radiation treatments (which were causing him pain and even more confusion/agitation.) Because this happened on a Friday morning and none of you bothered to return her desperate phone calls (phone call that you have still not returned a week later) she spent an entire weekend thinking she had made several grievous errors in judgment in regards to his treatment. She also believes, for a brief period in time, that she was responsible for his death by not treating him enough. This is actually how we found out about his prognosis because a nurse, upon hearing about this, shared with us his diagnosis. Again, your actions (or lack thereof) were nothing but cruel.

The truth is I'm leaving out several other ways in which you have effected my family. We will need to look through all of his personal papers to find out what he wants on his monument because we was lucid enough to tell us that he wrote it down somewhere but not lucid enough to remember what it was. We have had to contact his priest to find out what is appropriate actions to take for a dying Catholic, because none of the rest of the family is Catholic and we are unfamiliar with their traditions. We will have to choose a cemetery and funeral home without his input. We will have to inform his friend in drips and drabs over the next year or so, and he have the added issue that many of them do not speak English. His best friend left the country for four months a week before my father checked into the hospital. Obviously, had he known he would not have left. You have negatively affected his life also as he is missing the death of his best friend. It just goes on and on.

I sincerely hope you can understand what your decision had done to our family. On top of being of very questionable legally and ethically, it had been the worst decision you could have made for our family. We can handle knowing he was dying that there was nothing anyone could do about it. It's unfortunate and sad, but it is how things are sometimes. But by choosing to deny us the truth you overlooked the practicalities that needed to be dealt with as well as the emotional consequences of your actions. Instead of making it "easier on the families" you made it a million times worse. We can not go back and change the things that we would have. We can not reverse the emotional hells we experienced questioning our culpabilities and responsibilities. We can not go back and set things "right" or allow for an easier legal transition and it is you that have denied us this. Your lies have led to our great upset and I feel it is very important that you realize what you have done so that you will hopefully not put another family through what you put us through.

Rachel

False Starts

2006-01-18T08:07:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was the first snow of the new year. It was also the first snow since the little one came home.

The world is all fresh and beautiful and new again.

My family has recently had an odd propensity for driving to hospitals in snow storms.

My father is dying.

One month ago today

2006-01-09T15:39:00.000-05:00

I came dangerously close to having a major stroke. Our son also came much closer then we would have liked to dying.

Thank God that day is over with.

It all actually started on the Sunday after Thanksgiving. S and I both noticed that my legs and ankles (and hand) were swollen. Very swollen. So swollen the skin was shiny from being pulled so taut. It was scary. The next morning I got an emergency appointment with the nurse and my weight had gone up significantly and my urine was showing traces of protein. Two days later at my regular appointment I still had all of the same symptoms (edema, sudden weight gain, traces of protein in urine, contractions every ten minutes) but no change in my blood pressure. The only added symptoms were increased nausea (I know, you can't even imagine how bad increased nausea was after 8 solid months of nausea) and a troubling headache that wouldn't go away. I was ordered onto strict bedrest and came home with three prescriptions - a sedative, a narcotic pain medication, and an anti-nausea medicine that also got rid of headaches and had severe drowsiness as a side effect. I was under orders to take the appropriate medication for my symptoms and to stay in bed. Yep, I spent over a week sedated, dude. And sleep I did. The best guess is that I was getting 16-20 hours a day. Zzzzzzz

Cut to a week later - Wednesday the 7th, and the first signs something was really going wrong. I had gained 14 pounds, my urine was +1, and my blood pressure was 150/112 (remember, I'm generally a 95/60 sort of girl.) My OB started making the appropriate noises about pre-eclampsia. I was sent home with a list of symptoms to call the office about and another appointment for Friday to check my weight and blood pressure. (Rather amusingly I ended up napping at her office that day because they had me lay on my left side for an hour and a half to get my BP back down, and, well, the drugs...)

Thursday night was supposed to be our tour of the maternity ward, but they called at 2pm to cancel due to the impending blizzard. (This is called foreshadowing.) At about 4pm I began to feel very, very off. I can't even describe to complete feeling of disconnect. It was horrible. Of course, because of the storm, my husband took about 3 hours to get home, so I was alone panicking until 7pm. At 7 we went to Target to check my BP on one of their machines. It was scary high - 170/135. I called the doctor on call who ordered me to labor and delivery. S was exhausted by this point in time, so my mother drove me (in an active blizzard!) Amusingly enough, we drove behind a cop who had no clue how to drive in a snow storm. So there was general amusement at his sliding. It was pointed out S's brother was born during a blizzard, as was I, and Bear came home from the hospital on the day of a freak late-March blizzard. At the hospital my BP started stabilizing (we didn't get there until about 10 pm due to the storm and it was down in the 150s when I arrived.) I was sent home at 2am with strict orders to rest (again! They like to reiterate things.) and to keep my appointment for the next day.

Now my appointment was with the nurse for a weight check at 9:00. S decided he was going to stay home and go to the appointment with me. However, the office called me to change the appointment to 11:15 with my OB because I had been admitted the previous night. I blithely sent S to work telling him "don't worry, I'm sure they won't induce me today." (Foreshadowing!) At the appointment I had gained 7 pounds (in two days!), my urine was at +2, and my BP was back in the 170s. Needless to say, I was instructed to walk my butt back over to L&D and that I was going to be induced. Nothing like doubling your BP to terrify your doctor into thinking you might have a stroke on the spot. When I called S to tell him, he had been at work for less then 10 minutes. Oops. Because of the Neil Diamond concert that night, my OB would start the induction, but one of her partners would do the delivery.

I checked in to L&D again (the same receptionist was working; she just looked at me and smiled while pointing to the clipboard.) I was, again, sent to Triage (everyone was having a baby at right that moment, there were no L&D rooms available.) About an hour later my mother arrived (describing the panic-stricken call from S summoning her to the hospital as "hilarious,") and the Scrabble playing began in earnest. (Hey, what do you think we did while she was receiving chemo?) I was fully checked in with the large compliment of questions. Do you want an epidural? Hell yes! Any birth plan? I would like to avoid forceps or a vaccuum delivery (Foreshadowing! Again!) Circumcision? Yes. Any drugs during pregnancy? I began spouting off the long list of drugs I had been prescribed (in the end 6) when she stopped me and kindly said, "We have your chart, I mean illegal drugs." Um, no.

A pediatric phlebotomist was sent in to start my IV (Veins? Who needs veins?) and around 1pm my induction began. S, Bear, and Liz all showed up and we talked about being packed in like sardines and Scrabble bonus points for a while. Of course, as this was going on, the nurse would surreptitiously turn up the pit drip every 15 minutes or so. At this point in time there were four people in the triage room meant for two. There were serious discussions about putting me in a surgical suite so I could deliver in relative privacy (as well as get that epidural.) S and the girls went back home to play in the snow (school had been cancelled.) I was fairly proud of myself. I was handling the contractions just fine - laying on my side clutching a book and playing with tiles. My wonderful nurse from triage the night before popped in and announced she was taking over my care. She joked that she knew I was coming back today, and had my file pulled out and ready for the staff.

Then the bad things began to happen. His heart beat began to get irregular and the monitor wasn't picking it up well. I was thrown onto oxygen and ordered to lie flat on my back to make sure the monitor could pick everything up. If you aren't aware, flat on your back is the worst position to labor in. The pain went from being bearable and okay to absolutely unbearable and overwhelming. Add to this the fact that my IV lines had been hooked up incorrectly, so the Stadol injection had to go through my pit line (which was fairly slow dripping.) So there was very, very little relief. Luckily my charming nature and good humor were beginning to pay off (and no, I'm actually not kidding.) I was bumped up in line and transferred to my own room. Translation - beloved epidural time - beloved epidural. Once it was in I was much better, but not real thrilled about being flat on my back and on oxygen. And have I mentioned exhausted? My contractions the night before were strong and every 10 minutes, so I had gotten no sleep. My previous plans for the day had consisted of going to the doctor's office and then driving home and slipping into a coma. I was at about 36 hours of wakefulness and was exhausted. My mom was also exhausted and at about 6:30 we called to have S come back so she could go home and get some sleep. We were expecting to deliver at 4 or 5 in the morning at the earliest. (Last time - foreshadowing!)

However, at about 7:20 the baby's heartbeat started to falter again (it had stabilized, albeit on the slow side.) The nurse did a quick check and I was complete and at +1 station. She paged the doctor to come in immediately and I called S to tell him to arrive now. (Once again sending him into a panicked tizzy fit!) There were beginning to be serious questions about whether on not either of them would arrive in time. A newborn bed was produced and the OB resident was sent in to be on hand just in case. At 7:40 they both walked in the door at exactly the same time. Time for the pushing to begin. He was so close it was looking like it would be less then half an hour (a nice change from the five hours of solid pushing with Bear.) However, after two pushes it became apparent he didn't have half an hour. His heart beat was slowing by more then half. During the next contraction his heartbeat stopped temporarily. Two types of forceps were ordered (leading to the first truly humorous moment when what sounded like a very laid back nurse said "okay." The doctor looked up and said, "did she sound a little too relaxed to anyone else?" Everyone nodded yes and he had begun to order she be recalled when she walked in with them - luckily, just her tone was relaxed.) Two moire contractions and two more stopped heartbeats later and our little man was pushed and forcepted into the world. Okay, so I really wanted to avoid them, but I wanted to avoid the entire dead child thing even more, and, well, hearing the heartbeat completely stop was terrifying.

Of course, things still weren't great. He wasn't breathing when he was born (though he was revived solely by hand and nasal aspirator.) And though his APGARs were 8 and 9 he was experiencing some serious respiratory distress. So no one got to hold him (or even touch him) for over the first 2 hours until that cleared up. Like his sister he was heavily jaundiced (thus our extended stay at the hospital.) Luckily, as I was breastfeeding, I got to stay at the hospital. The most amusing thing that happened? My placenta wasn't coming out and we were worrying about needing to send me into surgery. Finally the doctor said, "Well, try a push." It was like a horror movie, complete with a "swoosh" sound effect. Killed his outfit, killed the floor, complete hilarious gory horror. I simply looked up exhausted and said "Well, you said to push."

Ah, well, at least we have quite the happy ending. And the little pig weighed in at 10 pound 1 ounce at his one month appointment. Now I get to be jealous about my own child!

Been quite busy

2005-12-13T12:29:00.000-05:00

Small parasite decided that poisoning his mother would be fun.

So we now have Christopher James Burke, born 7:51PM Friday December 9th. 36w5d, 6 pounds 14.75 ounces, and 20 3/4 inches. Had a few post-partum issues, he was finally released this morning at about 10:30. He's a sweet cutie. Pics, etc. later.

You may now refer to me as "almost thirty"

2005-11-22T23:57:00.000-05:00

As dear, sweet S noted below, today is my birthday. Happy Birthday Me! I celebrated in the following ways: By not painting and by not having a baby. Yes, the excitement around here in unending, I tell ya. Oh, and I got to be measured by my nurse midwife. Hey, if you can't strip and search for dilation on your birthday when can you?

In other news, it's been a long week.

Sunday of last week was my shower. I was very on the fence about having one (didn't we just do this 3 years ago?) But, as I was endlessly reminded, none of S's family attended last time around (what with the not being invited and us not being on speaking terms and all.) So the shower was planned and scheduled accordingly. We had six cancellations the day before the event (2 families, 2 flus) but we were still looking good at about 25 guests. Then the heart attack happened. 1PM on Sunday rolled around and no one was there. Cue panic. I had a party and no one came. ACK! Luckily, we were just dealing with a combination of "driving an hour" time and Ukrainian time. Literally at 1:10 the floodgates opened and soon there were nearly thirty people milling around. Disaster averted. Everyone seemed to have a lovely time, so it was a good thing. (For the curious, we served pizza for lunch right away because of those who had to drive. We ended with cake and ice cream. The baby received some lovely gifts, including the ever necessary second Ocean Wonders Aquarium because there is no way on this Earth that Bear is giving hers up. But trust me when I say it's not about the gifts. I would have been fine with just a party and no gifts at all. I just love the coming together and chatting part.

Of course, after the fun was the great crash. Sunday through Tuesday of last week were basically consumed by a spiraling depression as I realized exactly how much crap was left to do and that I am supposed to do none of it. Meaning S is to do it. Those who have met my husband may now laugh endlessly. Those who have not? Trust me, damn funny concept. To give you a brief idea - the house needs to be cleaned badly and the nursery was full of boxes from the move. Yap. The move. Add to this the fact that my mother, sister, and husband all decided behind my back that we were not going to Evansville for Thanksgiving because I was too near to delivery. Dear God, I'm 34 weeks and it's not as if they don't have hospitals down there. Yes, I'm still royally pissed about this particular coup. Add to both of those facts that I have carpal tunnel of pregnancy kicking in like a bad dream and I was just channeling a bad mood dude.

Wednesday though Friday I spend sorting through the stuff in the baby's room. 15 boxes in three days. Bah! But by Friday night it was empty and ready to paint (after furniture rearrangement done Saturday morning by S. We're (and I use the term "we" very loosely) doing the four color thing (red, yellow, green, blue.)

Saturday we went to see Harry Potter and then looked at some dressers. Saturday evening I began painting while S began "very important project for work version 4.975." Sunday Liz and I continued painting (realizing rather sadly that it was going to take two coats) while S continued with his "very important project." Monday I valued sleep more the industriousness and painted a second coat on exactly one wall.

Which gets us to today, my birthday. I started out this morning with an appointment (week 34) with my nurse/midwife. It went okay until the actual exam part. 2-2.5 cm dilated, 25% effaced. Oops. Gee, but I'm measuring perfectly for someone at, say, 38 weeks. Damn. Insert lecture on restricted activity (insert mind set about child not having a place to sleep if I restrict too much.) She then wanted to make sure they had filed FMLA papers if I needed them. I told her, no, I have a three year old with autism. Her eyes went wide. "You cannot be chasing after a three year old!" I assured her that my father has been watching her. She then wanted to know if he needed FMLA papers. Luckily retirement takes care of those things, so not so much. Anyway, long story short, they're not thrilled. It's a race to see if December 7 (the 36 week appointment) or labor strikes first. If I go before 36 weeks and my water has not broken they will try to delay some with muscle relaxers and the like, but not so much that they will be using magnesium sulfate. Luckily, as of 34 weeks I can deliver locally instead of traveling 30 minutes north, so that's a good thing. Oh, and the parasite is finally head down.

So we seem to be at "any day now" unfortunately. As long as he holds off until Black Friday I'm good. But I'll be damned if my Thanksgiving is ruined twice!

Still to come: canvas ornaments, broken dishwashers, tornado damage, projectile vomiting, classroom visits, performance reviews, the toddler social event of the season, birthday celebrations, and a death in the family.

Contractions, Anniversaries, and Tornadoes, Oh My!

2005-11-12T18:10:00.000-05:00

Sorry about the long silence guys. It's been a long week.

As to the contractions - I am, indeed, in early labor. I was dilated on Tuesday and beginning to efface. I was hooked up to a baby monitor (a first for me - my water broke with Bear and she was just put on an internal monitor) for two hours. Small parasite just refused to move. His heartbeat was okay, but no movement, regardless of how many times he was buzzed. Finally after about an hour forty-five he began kicking a little, so that was a relief. However, during my hook up I had 10 contractions. Actual contractions - not Braxton-Hicks ones. They are coming fairly often, but they are not coming regularly. So I'm to rest. Not quite to the level of actual bed rest but rest nonetheless. Dad has been watching Bear during the day and I have been left feeling like a lazy worthless lump. Friday we went shopping for stuff for the baby shower. After I got home it was contraction city. I just really, really over did it, and that was just a little light shopping. So no movement for me. Just call me a lump!

Our third anniversary was yesterday. During the last contract negotiation S's employer switched over holidays and he now has Veteran's Day off (which, as the Fed is closed only makes sense!) So he didn't have to take a vacation day. Unfortunately with all of the shopping and contractions there was no fun "celebrating." Add to that the fact that he was suffering from a terrible attack of acid reflux (which as his very pregnant wife, I have been feeling no pity about!) and we didn't even go out to dinner. I imagine we'll go out on Monday instead, but it was still nice. He liked his gifts (a video game [Fear], some pendants [a Bast, a Gawain token, and a dragon head], and some chains to fit his gigantic neck.) Yes, I did take the opportunity to tease him that it is usually the wife who receives jewelry on her anniversary.

As to tornadoes - the one that hit the Evansville/Newburgh area had me somewhat worried for my cousins and ex-uncle. All three and their families live in Warrick county in Newburgh. I knew that we had no relatives that lived in the trailer park that got totaled in Evansville - so I wasn't that concerned about them. (Most of my mother's immediate family lives in the Evansville area.) However, it seems I hadn't read enough about the actual path of the tornado. I guess it actually just went merrily skipping down Newburgh Road starting in Evansville. And my aunt? My mother's closest sister? Lives on Newburgh Road. Her porch area (a three season/Florida room) was completely destroyed and there was other damage done to the house. Luckily no one was hurt. They're actually still without phone and utility service (they live on the top of a hill/ridge so running new lines isn't exactly easy.) The ironic thing? She's the mother of the cousins and the ex-wife of the uncle I was so worried about. The other ironic thing? This is the same aunt whose house got squished about 10 years ago by a tornado. It's a different house even. She's moved twice since then, and yet... The tornadoes follow her. We've determined that though we love her, it's probably better of that we never live too close to her! Ah well, at least she knows her way around dealing with insurance companies for tornado damage.

Tomorrow is the baby shower (yes, I was torn about having one for a second child, but S's family wasn't invited to the first. So the event is more to give them the experience of one.) I will also be 33 weeks tomorrow. Hopefully, I have learned my lesson about, you know, movement, but I doubt it. I did venture to the grocery store this evening, and it wasn't the smartest thing I've ever done. I just need to practice my new mantra - "I am comfortable being a bump on a log. I am comfortable being a bump on a log. I am comfortable being a bump on a log. Or, you know, not.

Pregnancy Panic

2005-11-07T23:30:00.000-05:00

So there have been no updates because I have been having panic attacks about the state of my uterus.

Saturday I left my local Stitch-In and during the drive home had 4 contractions inside of 15 minutes. Since then they've continued on continuing on. Nothing predictable enough to be "labor" but definitely not Braxton-Hicks either. I called my OB who basically stated "bedrest" until she could see me, unless the damn things became regular. So rest it has been. Only, whenever I'm not resting (i.e. standing/walking) I have very odd uterine activity -very tight and bunchy. Not crampy like contractions, but damn tight. And the exhaustion is back.

ICK.

I tried to get into the OB today but the only open appointment was at 7:50 and reception doesn't open until 9:00. So, no, not so much possible. I got in with the nurse/midwife tomorrow at 3:00PM. (No, I don't feel like I'm getting second-rate help. Most of my appointments have been with her because of scheduling conflicts/emergency C-sections and the like. Heck, I've only actually seen my OB for 2 appointments.) This pushes up my scheduled appointment by two days, so that's good. But I'm still freaking out. And my feet? Like water balloons (which is a first.)

So I'm being treated very gingerly by everyone who's around me and repeatedly hearing encouraging things like "32 weeks is good." As for me? "ACK!"

My Sense of Timing Still Works Just Fine

2005-11-04T09:04:00.000-05:00

Contains spoilers for this week's Survivor

I love Survivor. Sure, it's not unique or original or TAR (mmm, Phil...,) but I still love it. Every Thursday night I record it and I watch it on Friday morning. Then I go and read the TWOP recaplet - because TWOP rocks!

Anyway, I had to set the downstairs VCR to record CSI and Without a Trace last night. Our downstairs TV has digital cable, meaning I have to set the tuner on the correct channel in order to record a show. So I set the VCR while the tuner was on another channel and switched to CBS and turned off the TV. Total amount of time CBS was on? 3 seconds, max. In those three seconds (during which I wasn't even looking at the TV?) "The tribe has spoken. Brandon, bring me your torch."

WTF?

I couldn't believe it. S was literally doubled over with laughter. Oh well, at least my sense of ironic timing is intact.

Triage - of both cats and justice

2005-11-03T18:40:00.000-05:00

Well, first off, in icky news, I have two wounded cats. Addy seems to be starting to put on her winter weight. Now, admittedly, this makes her turn into a very adorable poof-ball (which is just hilarious as she is not an adorable, poofy, or ball-like cat). Unfortunately, she has this "thing" with collars touching her neck. You know the two finger rule? With her it's more like four fingers and still some looseness. If she even barely tried, the collar would come off, but because it's loose enough she leaves it alone. Unfortunately, if it's too tight she will claw and claw at both sides of her neck endlessly. I was petting her the other night and noticed the old-familiar scabbed spots. So I slipped my fingers under the collar - 3 fit perfectly. Stupid cat. I loosened it up another notch (now you could flick it of with very little effort,) and she was good to go again. I tried taking a good look at her, but I can't see the extra weight yet - it must all be in her neck.

Unfortunately, the other would is much worse. Mina (we're assuming) has bitten Galileo badly in the neck. She actually bit him on Monday. I cleaned that up, and by Wednesday she had gotten him twice more. So now the poor thing has this swath of sticks to itself bandage around his neck holding on the dressings and antibiotics as well as stopping further damage from occurring. He's not happy, but at least he was fairly easy to treat. You always worry about trying to hold down 25 pounds of angry, hurt cat, but he was a real trooper.

In actually-important-to-the-world-as-a-whole news, last weekend was wonderful. I guess they has spent the previous week in D.C. and were now watching state cases (mostly criminal) here. (In Ukraine, there is currently no differentiation between state and federal court.) It was an amazing experience. They were wonderful, friendly, gracious guests who were just a joy to spend time with. The two we hosted even spent a good hour peeling root veggies for that night's pot roast. It was utterly amazing to spend time with these people. After all, they are responsible for the ability of a country to undertake a huge social and democratic change. They allowed a revolution to be born and not a bloody, riot-causing one. No, a peaceful in accordance with the rules of justice and the principles of democracy revolution. They are undoubtedly, the most influential (to history) jurists currently sitting in any country and yet they were kind, helpful, funny, down-to-earth people (with an adoration for Target, Wal-Mart, and Meijer that only Eastern-Europeans can understand.) I can't imagine that spending three days with any of our Supreme Court Justices would be as pleasant and warming an experience. I think the robes of office tend to wear the jurist in this country (and probably many more) and not vice-versa. It was just too cool.

Okay, okay, I'll stop with the superlatives and just say "it was a very nice time."

October Stitching Wrap-Up

2005-11-02T22:58:00.000-05:00

Because, at some point in time, this was a stitching blog...

My Goals for October were as follows -
1. 2 Ornament RR ornies Check
2. 2 small class pieces Check
3. Catch up on LK Flip-It Blocks Nope
4. Catch up on SB Monthly Musings Nope, but I did do one
5. Catch up on EM's Stitcher's Surprise series Nope, but I did finish one and start on a second
6. Pick a new project and work on it. (Maybe a piece for DH for Christmas, depending on the amount of time left.) Nope
7. Finish straightening up the baby's room and prep it for painting. Nope, but I did get the floor completely cleaned
8. Finally hang up pictures on the wall. Nope

Ah, well, in my defense, I was certifiably and medically exhausted and all. And darn it if it isn't nearly impossible to finish a bunch of stuff while sleeping 15 hours a day!

I did manage to get six pieces done -
Erica Michael's Stitcher's Surprise Series 2005 (for Rainbow Gallery) August - Beeskep. This was your typical RG/EM piece. Lots of obligatory fibers and a few By Jupiter charms. I enjoy these pieces for some reason (especially the last two years' worth.) They're quick and amusing and the fibers are fun.

Shepherd's Bush's Monthly Musing for June - Hive. I'm not a big SB fan (huge understatement) but I do like this series. They stitch up quick (2 days) and I like the look of them. Best of all? No pudgy people!

Another Rainbow Gallery piece - Carol Algie's Ornament #3 (of 12) for 2005 - Golden Circle. Obviously, as it is not gold, the colors were changed. I also slightly altered the border and added the beads (the piece just seemed "unfinished" somehow. This was done as my LNS's canvas ornament night (aka the second Tuesday of the month.) I do just adore going in and picking up my kit and stitching away on a counted canvas piece. I have found cc work to be incredibly addicting, and the cute little kits end up being much cheaper then kitting a piece on my own (not that that has stopped me...)

Angie Pullen's Winter Scene from some 1997 issue of Just Cross Stitch. This thing is huge for an ornament (56 x 56) and uses some pearl and gold blending filaments. It was originally part of an ornament RR I'm participating in, but it has been pulled. (Because, seriously, huge!) I would like to find the issue and stitch the other four ornies she designed for it. So, if anyone has it (December 1997, maybe?) I would love to buy/borrow it from you!

Periwinkle Promises' Courage Accent Pillow. Those who know me know that I do not like this particular series, but my LNS's cross stitch ornament night (aka the third Tuesday of the month) did the Hope Pillow in March and this one for Breast Cancer Awareness Month . Obviously I will be giving it and it's sister piece to my mother for Christmas.

And finally we have Stitch Kitty's Moewy Halloween (from the eponymous leaflet.) His eyes, nose, and mouth are all stitched in glow-in-the-dark braid, which is quite a lovely effect. This piece was part of the Halloween 2005 RR I'm participating in.

November Goals -
1. Two small class pieces
2. 2 ornament RRs
3. Piece for finishing school
4. Ornamentify all outstanding ornaments!
5. Catch up on LK Flip-It Blocks
6. Catch up on SB Monthly Musings
7. Catch up on EM Stitcher's Surprise
8. Finish baby's room - including paint
9. Hang pictures
10. Label fabric
11. Start on Bear's Care Bear once the fabric arrives (if time allows)

Numbers 4 and 8 are the big ones, so wish me luck!

Dear Daughter,

2005-11-01T16:03:00.000-05:00

When Mommy has gone upstairs to take a quick shower and then gets out only to hear water running downstairs, it is not appropriate to answer Mommy's question of "How big of a mess did you make?" with a huge grin and "Very Big Mess!"

Love,
Mommy

Halloween-y Goodness

2005-11-01T10:03:00.000-05:00

Presenting mushy-sweet goodness in photo form!

DH took Minnie Mouse out trick-or-treating (he conned my sister into joining them, sigh. 'Cause, you know, actual parenting would be wrong.) I stayed home and handed out candy after a big house-cleaning jag.

Everything was going just peachy until DH and Bear got home and DH decided to hand out candy to one group of trick-or-treaters. He somehow managed to dislodge the bowl of candy, and it fell maybe three feet on to our carpeted stairs. And somehow, he managed to shatter a Pyrex bowl. I've dropped the things onto linoleum from 6 feet and just had them bounce. He's a talented one, my husband. He cut his hand up a bit (very minor cuts) and we had to shoo Bear away from the door. Of course there was still about half an hour's worth of trick-or-treating left, so I had to rescue the candy and give it out while trying to clean up the lovely mess we had. We actually managed to run out of candy, though. So that's new and different.

It was a nice night, though. 60 degrees, so with a cute black sweater Bear was plenty warm, and I didn't have to take her (which really rattles my nerves, or, at least, did last year. It's the entire ASD and trick-or-treating thing. She's won't say "trick or treat" and some people can be real jerks about it. So I'm better off by simply being not there.) So we achieved a win-win situation for everyone. And, yes, that is the infamous pumpkin-patch pumpkin. I offered to go get another (bigger) one, but she wanted hers. So hers it was.

Buzz buzz buzz

2005-10-28T22:48:00.000-05:00

I imagine I will be fairly incommunicado this weekend.

We still have to go buy and carve up a large pumpkin as well as buy Halloween candy. On top of that - the Supreme Court Justices of Ukraine are visiting Indianapolis this week, and we are helping to host two of them. So, of course, we will be very busy dealing with that. I'm looking forward to the opportunity of talking with them - especially about the Orange Revolution and their ruling that struck down the original election results last year.

Should be a good time.

30 Weeks and all is well(ish)...

2005-10-27T15:45:00.000-05:00

My appointment with the nurse today was rather informative and amusing -

At 28 weeks I had finally gained weight (4 pounds) which made absolutely no sense to me as I hadn't eaten anything at all in the previous two weeks. She was thrilled - I wrote it all off as water weight. Guess which one of us was correct? Yep, down to my weight at 28 weeks minus half a pound. Lalala. I can't hear you. Oh well, maybe I should write that book about the pregnancy diet, and at least I got to laugh at the scale as it proved me right.

The great and mysterious blood wonkiness has finally been solved. After my three hour test they resubmitted the samples for a CBC, etc. Turns out that I was just dehydrated two weeks ago, and that the real culprit is that I'm anemic - very, very anemic. As in wackily-strong-prescription-supplements-twice-a-day sort of anemic. And guess what the most common side effect of iron supplements are? You got it, nausea. Blech! I may never keep down another meal again. Thanks little parasite. Oh well, at least my incredibly excessive exhaustion (as well as a few other odd symptoms) now has a cause.

Lastly she warned me that I was still on the high road to pre-term labor. Her official guess is 34-37 weeks (about the window Bear was born in at 35w6d.) My contractions have been fairly consistent but low key. However, there is some slight cervical movement going on. More then five an hour, blah, blah, blah, go to hospital. Shouldn't be soon, but we're probably looking at soon-ish. Luckily, I've heard rumors that giving birth both a) ends morning sickness and b) ends the excessive and endless pelvis uncomfortableness I'm currently having. So, at least there's a light up ahead.

I'm off to get some stitching done. Later this evening, with DH holding a gun to my head, I'll be getting my 'script filled. He's threatening to count the pills. Bastard.

And the worst mother of the year award goes to...

2005-10-26T23:44:00.000-05:00

I'm going to stick by my claim that it was an unfortunate turn of events that earned me this award.

Monday night I stayed up way too late finishing the Courage Accent Pillow for Periwinkle Promises. As I was going to bed, S woke up. It being I didn't feel nauseous for the first time in recent memory another hour was summarily ticked off of my available sleep time. Tuesday morning I was woken up a half-hour early by my mother who wanted to give me a URL so that I could help her compare and contrast the new health insurance options that she has for next year. I took the bedroom phone downstairs with me to write down the URL. (Warning: plot point!) I then played a few quick games of Sudoku and then woke up, dressed, and fed Bear. After she was safely on her bus I realized that I was exhausted. I let the dogs into the house because of the sold weather (Warning: second plot point!) and went upstairs to take a nap. Because I didn't want to dogs bothering me I shut the bedroom door. (Warning: final plot point!) I set an alarm to wake me up at 11 so I would have plenty of time to shower, dress, and pick up a bit before Bear came home.

The long and the short of it? I shut myself upstairs in a bedroom behind a closed door without a phone even being on the same floor I was on.

I came downstairs after showering to 5 answering machine messages. Eh? The first two were the school nurse. Bear has had a medical problem and she's trying to get ahold of someone. If she can't reach me she'll try other numbers. Cue mind numbing and terrifying adrenaline rush. The third message is my DH informing me via his cel everything is fine, just fine. He'll call me back just as soon as he gets details. The forth was Bank One trying to reach someone I've never ever heard of, and I don't even think used to have our phone number. The fifth message was S again - Bear was bitten by another kid. He scratched the surface of the skin, but it didn't really break (it sis later, you know how scratches can work.) The school nurse cleaned it up and iced it and she's doing okay. She just wanted to talk to a parent (both Bear and the nurse.)

Of course, the one time I accidentally make myself completely incommunicado to the point where I can't possibly even hear that a phone is ringing, I'm needed. How the heck is that even fair?

Oh, and the icing on the cake? Tuesday and Wednesday were Parent-Teacher conference days (more about that tomorrow) so the poor thing had a sub in with her when it happened. Sob.

Bad Mommy! Bad, bad Mommy!

Luckily the school has the phone numbers of just about every relative Bear has that lives within the state. Had they not reached DH (they have both his work and cel) they could have tried my mother (work, cel, and home;) my father (home;) S's uncle that lives in the city (cel and home;) S's father and step-mother (work, cel, and home;) S's mother (home;) or even my sister at school (heck, she's in the same township, surely they could track down one of their own high-school students!) But it just really, really sucks that they couldn't track down me.

Sniff.

Now, to alleviate my guilt - photos of Bear with Strawberry Shortcake. She looks fairly well-adjusted, right?

Field Trip to the Pumpkin Patch

2005-10-25T23:04:00.000-05:00

aka - I have the most adorable daughter since the beginning of time.

Monday morning was field trip day with Bear's Preschool class. After studying pumpkins for two weeks we all went to the pumpkin patch. Unfortunately, the day was fairly chilly and it had rained the night before, leaving a nice layer of mud on top of everything. None of the kids minded at all (although Bear's teacher just about had a heart attack.)

Because of the weather, only 9 of the 15 kids that were expected to go on the field trip showed up for school (the morning and the afternoon classes were combined and went at the same time.) However, this left us with extra time and funds, so everyone got to ride a pony.

Personally, I can't imagine backing out of the field trip. It was literally all Bear talked about for the entire week before we went. I think she would have killed me.

We ended up going on about a 20 minute hay ride. Because of the weather we decided not to take the kids into the pumpkin patch itself (way too muddy.) Instead the kids just picked pumpkins out of the already harvested ones.

There was also a "Pumpkin Eating Dinosaur" (no, I'm not kidding.) The kids all thought he was an absolute blast as he crunched his way through six pumpkins. Honestly, I think they just liked seeing the destruction and the mess!

There was also, of course, the obligatory riding of tricycles, the playing in a tepee, and gallivanting through a pumpkin themed play area. All in all it was a nice morning. Sure, the weather wasn't perfect, but the kids had a ball, and there were 8 chaperones for 9 kids. Nearly a perfect ratio! I got to meet Bear's two bestest buds in school and had my belly rubbed by her classroom aides. And, because of the cancellations, I even got to ride there in a school bus. That's the life people - going to a pumpkin patch in the fall with a bunch of preschoolers.

Dear HEC,

2005-10-21T17:00:00.000-05:00

I'm an environmentalist - always have been, always will be. Our charitable donations go to environmental causes, humane societies, the ACLU, and the March of Dimes.

That being said, could you kindly take me off of your "walk to the door and knock on it" list. I only ask because every single time someone shows up here I send them away with merely a smile and a laugh. This will not be changing anytime soon. Perhaps if your supporters had not actually threatened my mother, or called for her job, (Which, lets face it, is about as ironic as it gets as she's about the only environmentalist left in the current administration.) or generally lied to the public as a whole about your motives and the "facts" you've gathered I would consider reconsidering. But as I imagine, much like a leopard, your spots will not be changing anytime soon.

So, no - now is not a bad time. You're just a bad NPO. And if I have to explain to one more brainwashed smiling college student who I am, I may just start being a little less nice and understanding about it.

Sincerely,
Peachy

Go Pancreas, Go!

2005-10-21T16:26:00.000-05:00

Well, the results are in...

My fasting level was 86. It needed to be less the 95, and well, it was close because I finished dinner about 5 minutes too late, and my fast was only 9ish hours instead of the standard 10-14.

My one hour level was a tiny bit elevated. 186 - should be less then 180. A touch worrisome, but considering how sick the solution made me, I can't say I'm surprised.

My two hour rating was 142, nicely within range.

And the fun one - my three hour rating. 59. Yep, my pancreas kicks butt and takes names y'all. This is actually below the norm. (70-140)

So, no gestational diabetes or even the threat therein for me.

I'm going to feed my pancreas some celebratory rice now.

Okay, so maybe the caffeine addiction has gone a bit too far

2005-10-20T14:36:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, I picked my sister up from high school at the end of her school day. Usually our father gets her, but I had been using the car and wasn't finished with grocery shopping in enough time to give him back the car. While I was driving back to my house she begged me to help her with a cross word puzzle for her history class. I agreed and she played with Bear for a bit while I looked everything up. (She did have a valid "help needing" point - some of the answers were misspelled, e.g., "Dolly Madison," and it was wreaking havoc on her attempts to finish it.)

Bear pulls out her tea set and puts it on the ground in front of E. (Mind you, she's probably been ignoring this toy for a year now, but hey, she's like that.) She gives out cups and saucers and spoons (with all motifs and colors matching, of course) and then asks the question -

"Coffee? "Want coffee."

E was nearly doubled over in laughter, and every time she "finished" a cup Bear would pour more because she "needed more coffee."

Finally E looks at me and says, "Hm, I wonder where she got that from?"

I can't possibly imagine.

Bring in 'Da Noise, Bring in 'Da Crazy

2005-10-19T12:25:00.000-05:00

I forgot to mention the completely insane thing about my mother on Friday. When she called me, she was at the local hospital. This means that my mother was experiencing chest pains, called her doctor (who told her to get to a hospital, now!) and still ended up getting in her car and driving back home to the local hospital. After all, going to one of the three hospitals located less then five minutes away from where she works would be bad. In the ER they were shocked. ("You drove?" "You didn't call an ambulance?" Etc.)

Bah!

The test today truly sucked. I was okay through the night - I kept rinsing my mouth out with water, but this morning was another matter. I managed to keep the glucose down through sheer force of will. I was so hideously sick, but I really didn't want to have to fast again. The nurse offered me a bed, but I knew that would be a bad idea. Instead of concentrating on stitching and not puking, I would be simply thinking about trying not to be sick. I figured I desperately needed the distraction. Then the last half hour I spent just starving. Hungry, hungry, hungry! When I was finally done I was so relieved and finally ate about half a sandwich (I didn't want to shock my stomach too much.) I still feel very, very sick, but I'm hoping that through the judicious use of drugs that will clear up. If not, well, I can throw up now. The one good thing? All four sticks used the same vein (I'm usually lucky to get one stick per vein, and I can remember exactly once that a vein lasted through two sticks.) So that was very, very cool.

Well, enough about my crazy family and bodily functions - I'm off to worship at the shrine of complex carbohydrates.

I'm Okay, She's Okay...

2005-10-18T12:41:00.000-05:00

Sorry about the long wait between posts - it was a long weekend for all of us.

Mom's just peachy. They figure it was either a gall bladder/killer acid reflux thing. Unfortunately, the first EKG she had run came back rather wonky, so we were at the hospital for quite a long while. The most amusing thing about the trip was the fact that they wheeled her in a wheelchair to go take a cardiac stress test (you know, with the running and the treadmill?) Of course, I bit my tongue on the entire S's step-cousin dying while taking a cardiac stress test thing, It was another hospital, and I figured the information wouldn't be all that helpful. We made it home and basically collapsed.

Dad showed up for about 35 seconds. When I went to pick him up it was "I need to shave." For S the excuses were alternately, "They might call about the car;" "I need to pick up E;" and "We have to go get the car soon." When they did show up (Dad, S, E, and Bear) it was with a built-in out-plan. They had to leave to go get the car in 20 minutes. I was rather impressed by the breadth and depth of excuses he threw around. He told mom later that S had told him he and Bear were visiting, so there was no way for him to get to the hospital. Um, right, other then the 30 bazillion phone calls S made over there to see if he wanted to go. Well, a phobia is a phobia, I guess. (When I realized dad wasn't coming, I had S drive me over so that they would have a car to come over with.)

Saturday I dragged my derriere out of bed at 9:45 to go to a local stitch-in. Mind you, it started at 9:15, but that so wasn't happening. I was there by 11:30, brought sandwich stuff with me, and still beat lunch - so it was all okay. It was nice to be able to decompress and just stitch after the previous day.

Sunday we took Bear to go meet and have her picture taken with Strawberry Shortcake. She was much better then last week with Larry and Bob. Mind you, we didn't push her either time, but we did get some nice pictures of her and Ms. Cake. Then it was group nap time and some light cleaning and heavy duty laundry. (I just pulled the 2T clothes out of the barn.) Bear helped with all of the "squares" and "rectangles."

Tomorrow I have to take the a glucose tolerance test. My stress test results were normal, but because my electrolytes were all screwy they want to run the longer version. I have no clue how I'm going to make it 12+ hours with no food, water, or Tums. I think death might be a preferable solution!

Stitching wise I'm finishing up my two RR pieces. So nothing too terribly exciting. Updates tomorrow on the state of my stomach/whether or not I pass out in the waiting room!

Damn Damn Damn Damn Damn

2005-10-14T09:28:00.000-05:00

(not the original title, I assure you)

My mother just called. From the hospital. With chest pains.

In the only working car we have within an hour's drive. DH's car = bad transmission. My car = an hour away, with DH at work. Our third car = the vehicle mom was driving. Mom and dad's car = at a body shop because some idiot hit it in a parking lot.

Damn.

I offered to take a taxi over, but she just demurred.

Dad doesn't know yet.

I called DH at work, and had to have him tracked down to the branch. He'll be here in a little over an hour. (Conversation - "Can you leave right now." "Um, no." "If I tell you you have to, can you leave right now." "I guess so?" "I'll see you in an hour.")

That's actually the other problem with me taking a taxi - if he gets too delayed there will be no one home to meet Bear when she gets off the bus.

So, right now?

I'm twiddling my thumbs. Praying and pacing. Petting the cat. And cursing, a whole lot.

Guess what's happening, again

2005-10-12T08:49:00.000-05:00

You know our sewage line?

The one that was dug up and replaced within a month of us moving here?

In fact, the very same one the city redug up because the contractor violated code and collapsed the city's system this summer?

The same one from which our yard was finally relandscaped after merely two months ago?

In fact, the exact same one from which our sidewalk was replaced just 20 days ago?

Yes, that one.

It's being dug up, again. There's a backhoe in my front yard as I type. It seems the city decided to red-flag our line (what with the violating code, not filing permits, and general incompetence and all) and the sewage company has had to hire a city approved contractor to come out and perform the fix during which a city inspector will come out and recheck everything.

I've been assured by a very sheepish original contractor that they will put everything back.

They had better.

Yes, I will take some cheese with that...

2005-10-07T23:12:00.000-05:00

I'm starting to think I'm losing my mind. (I know, I know, now is different how exactly?) I'm constantly, constantly sick. Seven months pregnant and throwing up at least 14 times a week. Blarg.

And it's getting to the point where I'm just losing it. Eating fills me with dread (though having something in my stomach seems to make me less nauseous. And bile? Bad, nasty, horrific stuff. Must keep some food in tummy.) Coughing frightens me. The smallest thing sets off my stomach and I'm down for the day. Then the tears hit. For some reason every time I get ill I break completely down. I don't know if it's because I'm tired or exhausted, or just plain annoyed beyond belief. All I know is it's driving me crazy. It's also making me miss Merlin even more then ever. When I was pregnant with Bear and sick he was always there for me. Anytime I was sick or crying he would show up - stupid look on his face and all. He would come over to me all wide-eyed and try to cuddle to make it all better. For a complete moron he was overflowing with empathy. And I miss him. Lots. And I'm sick. Lots. And I'm really, really tired of it. The Zofran seems to work, but I can't take it prophylactically, so I end up waiting until I get ill (or extremely nauseous) and then take it. The larger problem then becomes that I've begun to get ill with little to no warning at all. 10 seconds and I'm out. I can sprint to a bathroom faster then an Olympic athlete these days (having not made it and had to clean more times then I care t think about.) Blech. Then there's the guilt. I can't stomach prenatal vitamins or iron pills. I try to eat well-balanced meals, only to lose them and drown my sorrows in a pot of rice or noodles. Nice carby stomach-calming goodness, but not exactly balanced. I know the baby is measuring well (actually ahead of the curve) but I still feel like I'm depriving him. Besides, he's what's causing this. I just want him out, out, out so I can feel better already. Bah! Talk about a no win situation. Two more months of this.

Tick. Tock. Tick.

(And yes, I realize we desperately want another child or two, and that's I'm damn lucky to be pregnant in the first place. But, seriously? This well and truly bites.)

Family Update

2005-10-05T13:42:00.000-05:00

Friday I spent the day cleaning in preparation for my aunt (JR) visiting later that night and the next day. Actually, I had been fairly lax because she came up to visit my mother. (She and her husband were on their way to pick up their daughter and her family at the airport Saturday afternoon.) Then I came to the stunning realization that we live less then a mile away from my parents and that perhaps they might stop by here. Cold be damned, time to clean!

So Saturday morning my aunt and uncle came over early and everyone went out to breakfast. They liked the house, enjoyed the cats, and were shocked that we had "large" dogs. We played a game of dominoes and had a good time while my uncle worked on his sermon. After they left we went out to lunch at Don Pablos (otherwise known as my favorite restaurant.) All in all it was a very nice time, aside from the very, very bad news.

Over Thanksgiving/Christmas of last year my aunt and uncle were having a difficult time with their youngest son. He had been drinking with friends for a few months and had actually been pulled over for drinking and driving. I should note he was 17 at the time. Unfortunately, in southern Indiana there is a culture of underage drinking. Though my aunt and uncle disapproved and did the whole grounding/no going out with friends thing repeatedly (added to that was no car after the DUI, obviously) it was no particularly successful. The parents of his friends would routinely buy them alcohol and encourage their behavior, and the police seemed rather disinterested. Until about a month ago. A month ago his best friend was killed, another good friend is in a coma, not expected to wake up, and his girlfriend broke her hip. All because his best friend was driving. Luckily, he was not in the car at the time. Needless to say the lesson was learned, but it was a bit too damn expensive, I think. As much as I detest drunk driving (one of my parent's closest friends was killed in his own neighborhood when I was about 10, and my best friend when I was very little [otherwise known as "the girl who lived across the street"] was killed 4 years ago along with everyone else in the car with her. She was driving and she was toasted.) I do wish that he could have learned that lesson at a much cheaper price.

In other news... (no good segue here)

Bear caught my cold and was sick Thursday evening. I kept her out of school Friday, but she could probably have gone. It's amazing how quickly the non-pregnant can recover from these things. My mother also caught it and was down for less then 48 hours. Me? Still suffering from exhaustion.

Sunday we saw Serendipity. We all really, really enjoyed it, but then again we were all Firefly fans. (Goes along with being Buffy fans...)

Monday and Tuesday I spent still sleeping in a desperate hope to someday feel somewhat normal again. It's not looking so good, though...

Week 26

2005-09-30T10:55:00.000-05:00

Wednesday morning I had my 26 week check-up with my OB's Nurse Practitioner. Unfortunately, it led to a lecture. I had lost 5 more pounds (I'm at a smidge over 20.) She looked at me and told me in no uncertain terms that I simply couldn't lose any more weight. Then she rewrote my Zophran prescription. I promised her that I have been eating, but... She said that that was good, but that I really needed to gain some weight. (I know, this was the first and will no doubt be the last time in my life that I ever hear those words.)

In good news the baby is doing just fine. No Gestational Diabetes screening - I was too dehydrated from being sick. I go back in at 28 weeks, when I will, hopefully, at least not have lost any weight.

If it wasn't happening to me, I'd think I was lying too...

2005-09-28T08:20:00.000-05:00

My husband woke me up when he got home yesterday and told me there was a hysterical, yet indecipherable, message from my sister on the machine. Now the indecipherable part is nothing new - last time she called she was looking for literary criticisms for Sense and Sensibility and I honestly thought she was trying to figure out what time the America's Next Top Model rerun was on at. (No, really, I swear.) But hysterical, now that is a new and different tone.

I listened to the message twice and my face turned more then a little grey. S kept asking what happened, and I just insisted we go pick up Bear immediately. (Dad has been watching her, it being all I'm capable of at the moment is sleeping.) We got there and a bewildered S was left with my sister as I hunted down my mother and Bear in the computer room. I asked her what the hell was going on and she told me that her radiologist has looked at the CAT scan she had taken when they thought her appendix burst and instead she had a very bad case of diverticulitis. (Otherwise known as "no, not the most recent time I was at the hospital with a relative who might be dying, thankyouverymuch." The radiologist at the hospital had noted a few sections and sent the scan on to her GP who sent the scan on to her oncological radiologist (knowing she had an appointment with him soon.) Turns out there are some "spots" on her lungs. No, I am not fucking kidding. But, because they're too small for right now, we're all going to sit back and wait for November to rescan her so we can find out if I have a second parent (this one has never, ever, smoked) with lung cancer. Someone shoot me.

Liz meets me in the dark hallway after all of this (otherwise known as "sister central" and asks me what the odds are.

"Astronomical. If she has it, we need to have the house scanned for Radon."

I kind of got a blank look in response. I just gave her a big hug and moved on. Unfortunately, that's just how my brain works. Unflinching logic is my first reaction - then the complete breakdown hits. Good for logistical control, bad for family members.

So, for the record - My cat dies of lung cancer. My father, who hasn't smoked in 28 years, has kidney cancer that metastasizes to his lungs, prompting removal of one-third of the lung. And now my mother has "troublesome spots" on her lungs - all within a year and a half.

I was serious about the shooting thing.

A comprehensive list of drugs I've taken in the past 4 days

2005-09-27T02:08:00.000-05:00

TheraFlu - but only the dissolving strips because they have no pseudoephedrine in them. Unfortunately, this means they also don't really work. Suckage.

Cepacol - Because sleeping and breathing with a stuffed up nose leads to a badly sore throat.

Tylenol - I finally broke down when I was overheating and literally cooking in our home under a ceiling fan with the A/C on.

Robitussin - The funny thing about this one is I'm allergic to dextromethorphan. Cough syrup tends to make everybody else perk up and wide awake. It puts me in a nearly comatose state. So I very, very rarely take it. But how else is a coughing woman supposed to try to sleep?

Zofran - Because of all of the other drugs coursing through my system I laid off on this one for awhile. My reward? Vomiting 7 times in 6 hours. Lesson learned - do not mess with "morning" sickness at seven months pregnant.

So, if you still need to ask "why no updates?" I will just have to file you away with the terminally clueless and crash in my bed for hours of sleep 12-18 in a 24 hour period.

Weekend Update

2005-09-21T14:52:00.000-05:00

Stitchers go to Quaker camps for retreats. Makes perfect sense, no?

I'll leave the puns to fend for themselves.

Thursday before I left was hell. Literally 5 minutes before my ride arrived my father called. The tumor they removed from his lung was genetically related to the one in his kidney four years ago. Thus, metastasis. Fuck. (I would like to point out his original oncologist from this surgery didn't even bother to check. He only found this out because he went hoop jumping like a mad man to get another oncologist.) So stage 2 kidney cancer, with it's lovely 95% of all cases don't metastasize crap, is a bitch. It was a real damper, but luckily everyone was busy asking about DH so I didn't have to share and depress the entire weekend. He's getting a full body scan tomorrow morning (version 3.0, I believe) and we'll go from there. Of course, that bump on his thyroid is looking a whole lot more bothersome now. They still don't think chemotherapy would do any good. So, we're at the wait and see phase, yet again.

As for hubby dear. Still no confirmation on the stroke/no stroke thing. Monday he had the electroshock nerve and muscle induction thing (very technical terms here) done. Surprisingly enough his main nerve (the one most prone to carpal tunnel in most people) was pretty good - high normal, maybe mild carpal tunnel. However, the ulna nerve (the one not fixed by a wrist brace) showed mild to moderate damage. The big news, however, was the muscle test. It showed some chronic as well as new muscle weakness/damage. Source unknown (DH was never an athlete in any life.) There was an amusing moment when the neurologist was trying to show us how this one muscle read as abnormal by comparing it to the next one. "See, this one will be normal." Or, you know, actually more damaged. It really was damn funny at the time, but the narrative reads horribly, sorry. Because there is both chronic and new damage a stroke still can't be ruled out. However, it was clear that they expected just carpal tunnel results and the muscle damage threw then for a loop. Luckily, they had prepared for such results and had already ordered MRIs. So Friday he will be undergoing three hours worth of MRIs (brain - to look for stroke, neck - to look for what could be causing the damage, and lower back - to check his previously known herniated disk. Cause if you're gonna be at the MRI machine, ya might as well go all the way.) Luckily, I don't have to join him because they're are scheduled during when Bear gets home from school and someone has to meet the bus.

As for the stray that's out front - yes you are very sweet, but no you can not come in. Yes, this is my final decision on the matter.

As to the Tylenol - the migraines, they are killers. Two for the first dose, three for any thereafter. Just be happy I'm not taking four.

As for the new fall TV season - thank goodness you've finaly arrived! Woo-hoo!

Have a lovely weekend

2005-09-15T08:36:00.000-05:00

I'm off for a weekend stitching retreat. Yeah me!

No boys, no babies, no worries.

See ya Sunday!

Breaking the rules

2005-09-13T08:48:00.000-05:00

Throughout both this pregnancy and my pregnancy with Bear I have been very conscientious about taking medications. Specifically taking Tylenol. Because, well, I heart Tylenol. With enough of it and a healthy shot of caffeine the evil headache monsters go away. But, being the semi-responsible mother-to-be that I am I very, very carefully follow the lovely label directions (2 tablets, every 4-6 hours for extra strength.)

That is, until today, otherwise known as "day three of the headache that wouldn't quit." Today I realized there was the distinct possibility I would kill someone if this headache kept pounding away. So I bit the bullet and took three. Bad, bad me. I do honestly feel more then a twinge of guilt about it.

But, I feel loads better.

Meme time

2005-09-11T22:59:00.000-05:00

For I am tired and have nothing overly brilliant to say.

From Jenn - Bold what you have done and add another at the end.

I am homosexual.
I've run away from home.
I listen to political music.
I collect comic books.
I shut others out when I'm sad.
I open up to others easily.
I am keeping a secret from the world.
I watch the news.
I own over 5 rap CDs.
I own an ipod.
I own something from Hot Topic.
I love Disney movies.
I am a sucker for hair/eyes.
I don't kill bugs.
I curse regularly.
I have "x"s in my screen name.
I've slipped out a "lol" in a real conversation.
I love Spam.I bake well.
I would wear pajamas to school.
I own something from Abercrombie.
I have a job
I love Martha Stewart.
I am in love with someone.
I am guilty of tYpInG lIkE tHiS.
I am self conscious.
I like to laugh.
I smoke a pack a day.
I loved Go Ask Alice
I have cough drops when I'm not sick.
I can't swallow pills.
I have many scars.
I've been out of this country.
I believe in ghosts.
I can't sleep if there is a spider in the room.
I am really ticklish.
I love chocolate.
I bite my nails.
I am comfortable with being me.
I play computer games/video games when I'm bored.
Gotten lost in the city.
Saw a shooting star.
I have had two serious surgical procedures.
Gone out in public in my pajamas.
I have kissed a stranger.
Hugged a stranger.
Been in a fist fight with the same sex.
Been arrested.
Laughed and had milk/soda come out of your nose.
Pushed all the buttons on an elevator.
Made out in an elevator.
Sworn at my parents.
Kicked a guy where it hurts.
Been skydiving.
Been bungee jumping.
Broken a bone.
Played spin the bottle.
Gotten stitches.
Drank a whole gallon of milk in one hour.
Bitten someone.
Been to Niagara Falls.
Gotten the chicken pox.
Crashed into a car.
Been to Asia.
Ridden in a taxi.
Shoplifted.
Been fired.
Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back.
Stole something from my job.
Gone on a blind date.
Had a crush on a teacher/coach.
Celebrated Mardi Gras in New Orleans.
Been to Europe.
Slept with a co-worker.
Been married.
Gotten divorced.
Saw someone dying.
Driven over 400 miles in one day
Been to Canada.
Been on a plane.
Seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show.
Thrown up in a bar.
Eaten Sushi.
Been snowboarding.
Been skiing.
Been ice skating.
Met someone in person from the internet.
Been to a car show.
Going to or have gone to college.
Done hard drugs.
Taken painkillers.
Met a celebrity
Been kissed by same celebrity
Been addicted to painkillers.

There you have it. Speculate and be amused at will.

Baby Bits

2005-09-10T23:55:00.000-05:00

Well, as of the ultrasound that was long enough ago I'm embarrassed for not posting earlier, we are officially having a boy. In fact, the tech was rather thrilled as he was (at least to her) very obviously a boy. So there you have it - Penises of the world unite!

This, of course, left us in a rather interesting situation. We have only girls' clothing (though we have quite a bit if them;) I have no bloody clue what one does with baby/toddler/young boys (neither does my "never been accused of being 'sporty' husband";) and we only had girls' names planned out to argue over. So now we are buying clothing on clearance whenever we see them, are still confused, and are desperately trying to become enthusiastic about any, no really any, boys' names at all. As for the infamous (and oft argued about on the internet) "to snip or not to snip" question, there shall be snippage - at my insistence. S could really care less, and I have a strong opinion on the subject (and, yes, reasons for said opinion) so snippage is the way to go for us.

As of midnight I shall officially be 24 week. Yeah viability! Just wait until two more weeks from now when I'm 26 weeks. It will be par-ty time round about these parts. I am still losing weight at a rather amusing clip (and yes, I am also eating more. Now as for what remains eaten, 'tis another story altogether.) I'm officially at the "could gain a pound a week for the rest of the pregnancy and still not break even" point, but fear not, everything looks good on the baby. Four heart chambers, two kidneys, yadda, yadda, yadda. Quadruple screen came back just peachy (yippee!) and he's measuring a full week ahead of schedule. Which is, of course, good for him as I imagine he shall be born early.

So that's what there is to know. The threat that I will puke on you if you don't behave it still quite good, but the baby is peachy nonetheless.

"Well, we don't think..."

2005-09-09T13:02:00.000-05:00

I know it's been quite a while since I've posted. But all sorts of hell have been breaking loose (both here and on a more tragic level, down south.) I've been working on a post-Katrina post for a bit now, but it's not quite ready. So, instead I present you with more emergency medical fun. 'Cause that's what I'm all about - the fun.

Two weeks ago today (21w5d for those keeping track of such things) I began oozing some fluid (for a lack of a better way to put it.) It was obviously not urine, and just as obviously clear. And I wasn't even 22 weeks and September 11 (24w) or September 25 (26w) were seeming very, very far away. I got ahold of the on-call OB and ran an amusing self-diagnostic involving a maxi-pad and dog walking (nope, not kidding in the slightest.) Things seemed to be okay, so, although highly panicked, I waited. Wednesday was my regularly scheduled OB appointment. I went in and told her of the still appearing mysterious fluid. She shoved up a speculum and took a look around and then performed a quick and dirty ultrasound looking for fluid pockets. (Side note - there's a reason OBs hire ultrasound technicians. They suck at giving ultrasounds. The damn thing actually hurt.) The end result. "Well, I don't think you're amniotic sac is broken. You have some nice fluid pockets and the fluid isn't ferning well. But, at 22 weeks it might not fern well and it can be hard to tell if it is just a small leak. Wait, see, and let me know if things change." Oh goody, that's really damn reassuring.

Cut to Wednesday evening. I'm in bed for my daily 5-7PM nap. (Bear naps from 3-6:15, DH arrives home at 6.) S comes in and wakes me up. Being the lay-about I am, I enquired as to the time.

"6:10"
"Then go away. Tired."
"Honey, you need to wake up."
"Is Bear awake?"
"No."
"Then go away, tired!"
"We need to talk."

I should now point out that "We need to talk," is code between us for "bad, bad, stuff." I literally hopped up, disturbing the two cats that were curled around me and bringing a trail of drool with me.

"What's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing everything's fine."
"Eh?" (getting vaguely pissed off again)
"Well, about 2 hours ago my chest started hurting and my right arm is completely numb or in pain."

Cue absolute panic.

I called mom and had her pick up a still very drowsy Bear and we hopped in the car to go to the hospital. Once there he was promptly hooked up to a ton of equipment while I dutifully filled out insurance and admissions forms. Long story short, 5 hours later we got the beginnings of a diagnosis. "We tested all of your cardiac functions. They're fine. There is nothing wrong with your heart. However, your right arm failed the neurological exam. We don't think you've had a stroke, but you need to get into a neurologist. Take aspirin daily until you see one, just to be sure. I've called the head of this group, they can see you next week." (Basically the pain in his arm led to panic, which led to an acid reflux flare-up)

Oh, goody. They don't think my 36 year old husband has had a stroke. Are you kidding me? Even with the pull the ER doc and my family had with the Neurology group, his appointment is still for next Wednesday.

Yeesh!

I'm starting to think I would give my eye-teeth for some sort of actual diagnosis from someone. But that would probably be too much to ask for.

Well, they say photographs never lie

2005-08-11T23:42:00.000-05:00

In that case, I have determined my husband and I have never met each other.

For Bear's school (which begins tomorrow, though the first day is Monday for the Pre-Schoolers) we need to provide on 4" x 6" photograph of our family. I have just looked through all of the photos I can find, both print and digital, and I have come up with nothing.

There's one photo of S and I taken at the 75th Anniversary party at his work, but Bear is not in it. And there's our wedding photos - three years old. But there is not a single photo of just the three of us anywhere, and those that I have listed are literally the only photos of S and I together.

We could be strangers at a party, and we would have a more chronicled life on film.

Still very, very tired

2005-08-08T11:07:00.000-05:00

Instead of doing to logical thing and relaxing during the weekend, I keep working my tail off. Two weekends ago I cleaned the entire house. This past weekend I cleaned all of the carpets (and took an emergency trip to Muncie to visit family members who were flying out on Sunday.)

Just busy, busy, busy.

I was originally planning on continuing on with the "summer of much fun" today, but I'm thinking I might just beg off and try to get some more sleep.

*Yawn*

I'm such a bad mother.

Blogathon 2005

2005-08-06T13:12:00.000-05:00

For those of you with some time, money, or extra flour on you hands, go check out Bakerina today. She's participating in Blogathon 2005, raising money for Windows of Hope, and posting focaccia recipes and pictures.

In all honesty, this "God's punching bag" thing...

2005-08-02T22:20:00.000-05:00

Is getting really, really, really old.

So, I hear the Children's Museum is a nice place to visit. Not that I would know, because instead I had a day from hell, again, today, but I hear it's quite lovely.

I was woken up by a phone call at 7:30 this morning. Mind you, because of stress, etc. I went to bed at about 3:45 last night (Bear went to bed after midnight, sigh), so I was a bit out of it when the phone woke me up. It was mom, and she needed me to drive her to her doctor's appointment at 8:30 because she was in too much pain to drive (she's been having pain/cramping on and off since Thursday. Friday they guessed it was an ulcer. Today they were going to be running tests, etc.)

Figuring I would be at the office half an hour to an hour I skipped a shower in exchange for a bit more sleep. At 8:10 I strapped in a sleeping Bear and headed over there. Mom was in excruciating pain and her work clothes. I was amused. "And you're going to get to work how?" sort of amused.

I should have guessed we were in trouble by the big thick book she was carrying. Especially when she left it in the car when she went into the doctor's office. I helpfully brought it along and she told me, "No, that's in case I need to go to the hospital."

Um, what? Hospital? Um? What?!

High fever, intense abdomen pain, and a few x-rays later and we were heading to said hospital. The best guess? Diverticulitis or a burst appendix. Gee, now those are choices for you. After some stat blood work (I'm assuming a WBC) we were going to go down to medical imaging for a CAT scan. Unfortunately, by this point in time she's in too much pain to walk. So much so that a worker at the blood draw place ordered her to sit and wait for a wheelchair.

We get down to Medical Imaging and are informed that for a CAT Scan she's going to have to drink some super-charged lemonade, wait two hours, be injected with dye, wait fifteen minutes, and then get the scan done. Oh, good. I only have one book with me. Yippee.

We get the okay to give her some pain meds and it becomes obvious she needs to lay down. Unfortunately, they don't really have beds. However, they do have an old room that has been converted into a storage closet. So we spent two hours plus in there, mom sleeping and me finishing my book and trying, unsuccessfully, to doze off.

After the CAT scan we waited again for the results. Turns out she has a severe case of diverticulitis. She's thrilled and relieved. I chose that moment not to remind her that her sister very nearly died of an acute case of diverticulitis about 10 years ago (part of her colon died and that triggered a heart attack.) Yeah, best no to mention that.

So she's on Cipro (can you say anthrax?) and some lovely non-narcotic, non-NSAID pain relievers (can you say Tylenol?) I read all the drug literature to her (there's quite a lot of it with the nice strong antibiotics) and she's busy sleeping now.

In total - over 7 hours at the doctor's office and the hospital.

Have I mentioned I'm really, really sick of hospitals now?

Oh, great, another baby I can be irrationally jealous of

2005-08-01T23:22:00.000-05:00

Julie posted today about a problem she's currently having with Charlie. Namely, that the kid, bless his heart, he is not small. In fact at 8 (adjusted age 6) months he currently weighs 23 pounds. For those of you keeping track of my jealous insanity: that means he's less then a pound lighter then my 40 month old daughter!

Great, just great.

On a slightly better, but still ultimately depressing, note Bear has begun to mimic words. Sure, it's a milestone typically hit by 18 months, but at least she's hitting it. Or so I keep telling myself repeatedly. She is also currently using 3 word phrases/sentences (18-24 months) but is starkly refusing to move on to 4 words.

On the "other people suck" front, I had my first encounter with a bratty 7 year old who made fun of Bear. That was a blast. My poor sister tried to politely state Bear was only three, when she replied "my three year old sister talks much better then that!" and huffed off. It's speaks you twit. Also had bad people at a restaurant with us. Bear refused to get a drink until after she had seen me pay (it's a buffet we go to often.) And we got the head-wagging "your child is a spoiled brat" nonsense from a couple who was watching her.

So I'm a touch angry at the world, I guess.

Dad is home from the hospital. He just got home today, partially because he was delayed in being transferred out of the SICU. Originally there were no beds available, and when one did open up it turned out that the lead ward nurse is a friend of the family. So, he had to wait for a bed in a different section to open up. I'm kind of miffed about various things that happened while he was there (surprising, no?) But more on that tomorrow.

We did go to the zoo Friday. Turns out we flipped our days. We should have beached Friday and zooed Thursday. Oh, well. It was a cheap day out (we're members) and we all had a blast. I think we're going to go to the Children's Museum tomorrow morning. There is an Arthur exhibit there that is closing soon.

My ultrasound is Wednesday morning. I'm desperately hoping that all is well, but not expecting it.

Well, if bitching was all I had to do...

2005-07-28T21:18:00.000-05:00

Then I have quite a bit more to complain about.

Small unborn rat creature decided to finally make its presence known last night about an hour after I bitched about the lack of presence.

Took long enough.

We spent the day at the beach today (Er, reservoir, it is Indiana after all.) So we had playground, swimming, sand castle building fun. And we're all very tired now, thankyouverymuch.

We also fit in a few visits to the SICU. He should be moved to a regular room tomorrow. He was sitting in a chair, etc. today - all while bitching about how much his right side hurts (Well, duh! They spread your ribs and removed part of your lung and you have a gigantic tube sticking out of you. Why would you think that was painful?)

Tomorrow in happy, happy, fun, fun summer time we are planning on going to the zoo. Thankfully the heat wave has broken so we shall not be crispy critters.

Happy Happy Fun Fun Day

2005-07-27T21:16:00.000-05:00

Or, you know, not.

Long story short - we got to the hospital at 8AM. He went in for surgery at about 9:30AM. We spoke to the surgeon at 1PM. We saw him in the SICU from 2-3PM. We went home and cam back to visit again from 5:30-6PM.

The outcome? They first removed the "questionable nodule" and tested it. It came back positive for cancer, but the margins were clear. Just to be sure, they removed the entire upper lobe of his right lung and some lymph nodes. The type of cancer (new? old?) and whether or not the nodes were clean is still not known. These issues will factor into whether or not he needs chemotherapy.

So, if the cancer fairy could quit visiting my family, that would be just peachy. (For those keeping count, 3 in 4 years, or 4 in 6 years. Go Team!)

In other assorted news - I burned my hand after dumping my breakfast all over it and was sick all day long. And we had a bad, bad storm last night that was even worse in the city my husband works in, so we were getting phone calls all night long and he basically had to work from 2-7AM trying to revive the credit union's ATM, servers, system, etc. I told him if they had the audacity to charge him a vacation day for today to simply quit in the morning. Also, my father + morphine = lots of fun times.

Bah! I'm off to try to get some sleep and fret about every member of my family (including the unborn child who I still have not felt kick even though I am 17 weeks and it's freaking me out.)

So much for my welcome home party

2005-07-26T09:04:00.000-05:00

My lovely relaxing week has come crashing down around me.

Dad goes into surgery tomorrow morning to entirely remove the damaged area of his lung. No, they still do not know what is wrong with it (scar tissue, scar tissue, scar tissue...) They have simply decided to go in and take it (no biopsy either.) And we found this out yesterday (Monday) at 3PM.

So welcome home through the roof stress levels.

If you need me, I'll be napping

2005-07-25T09:07:00.000-05:00

Well, I'm back, and I'm mostly rested up after my long, sleepless travels. I'm still crashing before the 3 year-old, but I assume this too shall pass.

The car is fixed, the sewer works (though this is an amusing story in itself), and everybody survived without me. Sniff...

Bear is now no longer my "baby," which she insists upon telling me whenever I refer to her as one. Sniff...

My cat missed me, as did Galileo, oddly enough.

I am glad to be home, though.

Longer versions coming up - but the short version is Rome, Florence, Capri, Sorrento, Pompeii, Delphi, and Athens. Brief stops at airports in Chicago, Frankfort, and New York.

Everyone have a lovely week and a half

2005-07-11T10:28:00.000-05:00

I shall be in Italy and Greece thinking of you.

Well, maybe not you.

Everyone take care, no more huge crises while I'm gone please.

And yes, still no water, still no car. But....

I leavin' on a jet plane!

I leave for Italy and Greece in 20 hours.

2005-07-10T16:34:00.000-05:00

I leave for Italy and Greece in 20 hours...
I leave for Italy and Greece in 20 hours...
I leave for Italy and Greece in 20 hours...
I leave for Italy and Greece in 20 hours...

Excuse me for mantra-ing all over you, but we just found out that the relaid sewer line, the one done just last October has collapsed. We once again have no way of getting water out of the house.

I have called the owners of the company we used as well as the warranty company that recommended then, and have left long messages about the need to call us now so that they can schedule everything and we can have water again.

So once again, we will be needing a big back-hoe and our front yard will be trashed.

So I'm damn happy that we haven't re-seeded since the last time this happened.

I'm also more then just a little furious.

But...

I leave for Italy and Greece in 20 hours...

So my husband can deal with the rest of it. I think 11 days should be long enough.

Also? In even more fun? My car died Friday night. Cause unknown, after quite a few repairs.

But, again...

I leave for Italy and Greece in 20 hours...

I'm just hoping to come back to a house with water and a working car.

I leave for Italy and Greece in 20 hours...
I leave for Italy and Greece in 20 hours...
I leave for Italy and Greece in 20 hours...
I leave for Italy and Greece in 20 hours...

T-Minus Five Pounds and counting...

2005-07-07T15:53:00.000-05:00

Well, my appointment today was boringly normal other then the fact that I have now lost five (nearly six) pounds since my first weight at 7 weeks.

Well, gee, I thought this pregnancy thing was supposed to make you gain weight, silly me.

After checking how much I was eating (plenty, as it keeps the nausea away) and checking the heart beat (148-153 bpm) and the size of my uterus it was determined that yes, I really was just too damn sick. So I walked away with a prescription for precious, precious Zofran. Yeah, I'm pretty opposed to drugs during pregnancy, but I'm getting quite tired of puking and crying for three hours solid every night, and doing it in Italy and Greece sounds like less fun then doing it here.

Great Expectations

2005-07-05T23:02:00.000-05:00

Things I wish people had told me before my second pregnancy -

(Okay, not really the second pregnancy. But the second time I've hit the second trimester, so let's not be too pedantic.)

1. Although Mothershock and the amnesia of new motherhood seem to be well discussed and accepted phenomena, no one mentions pregnancy amnesia. I have been unbelievably ill for three straight months now. According to my friends and family, this is exactly what happened when I was pregnant with Bear. If that is so, why do I not remember it? I think it's a survival instinct designed to allow continued procreation. Otherwise no one would willingly go through pregnancy twice.

2. Even with the aforementioned amnesia, the illness can and will be worse this time. Unfortunately, practice does not make perfect.

3. This time, you are older. Okay, admittedly I got somewhat pissed when my SSiL told me this (she meant it very nicely.) After all, I'm not even 30 for Heaven's sake, don't call me old! But I am, nonetheless, older then I was four years ago, and although this difference is not readily reflected in many of the things I do - I think perhaps it is being reflected in this.

4. You know what can go wrong. As the parent of a child with a disability I am absolutely terrified for this child. I want everything and anything that can be tested for to be tested for. (Yes, I realize this is a rather unreasonable request. I also realize that autism can not be tested for in the womb.) I am terrified of having another "special needs" child and wondering how I would ever balance my time between the two.

5. You know what can go wrong during the birth. With Bear I was actively pushing for over five hours. It was hell. (I was induced after my water broke.) The cord was wrapped around her neck three times and the room was chalk full of Mds who were scurrying around doing their own thing. I really want a much calmer birth experience this time (something I keep hysterically mentioning to my OB. Think I've panicked her yet?)

6. You will look very pregnant very fast. Why the hell did no one tell me this? With Bear I still only looked moderately pregnant up until the 7th month (I didn't gain a lot of weight early on due to nausea.) With this one I looked six months pregnant at two and a half months along, and I had lost weight. My uterus, even at its current rather modest size, is poking out looking around being all hard as a rock and obvious. It's pretty wacky. I've heard this is because the abdominal muscles have been pulled apart before. The first time they resisted a bit, but this time around the give up the ghost and let the uterus just push itself out there. But In all seriousness, I look a hell of a lot more pregnant then I am. People keep asking me when I'm due and then wondering if I'm having twins.

7. All those other unpleasant and minor symptoms? Still unpleasant. Ligament pain? Shortness of breath? Bleeding after sex? Excessive tiredness? Check, check, check, and check. All the bloody annoyances of pregnancy are still there and are still annoying.

8. After four years of hormonal flushes you breasts will simply hate you. Eight months of pregnancy, three years of breastfeeding, and three months of pregnancy have left my breasts very, very angry. I think they're just tired of being messed with and just want a break. I have milk ducts clogging up all over the place (including the few misplaced milk ducts I have on either breast.) They are alternately hard, soft, painful, tender, and just irritated. The idea of someone touching them is enough to send me off my rocker. I think I should send them on a holiday to the Caribbean.

9. That incontinence thing everyone talks about? Hits hard while you are pregnant. I will admit to having been very lucky (and well exercised.) I have had virtually no issues with any form of incontinence following Bear's birth. Everything was keenly peachy and well held in. Until the nausea fairies came to visit. Now every time I am ill I'm also incontinent. Yep. It's rather disgusting, but it is entirely true, and from speaking to my family and friends, fairy common. So be warned! You will pee and vomit, and you will have to clean. And then you will sit and cry. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

10. You will be alternately ravishingly hungry and very, very sick. And, oddly enough, the best way to stop being sick will be to eat. How little sense does that make?

11. That bottle of Tums that lasted all of your last pregnancy? It will be gone by month four. I'm on bottle two now. If you suffered from acid reflux last time around you will suffer from it every time you dare put solid food into your mouth. Unfortunately, you will be eating many small meals a day, so you will be downing the suckers like candy. On the plus side, your burps will now be assorted fruit flavors.

12. Throwing up bile is yucky and nasty. And, unfortunately, it doesn't get any better after 15-20 times. So always, always eat. That way you won't be throwing up bile.

13. Pregnancy sucks.

Unlucky 13, eh? Well, I guess that works. Why did I want to be pregnant again? Bah. I have an appointment Thursday. Anyone want to lay a bet on the amount of weight I've lost?

But... But...

2005-06-19T00:36:00.000-05:00

Spoiler Warning: The following post contains many Batman: Begins spoilers. Many. About various salient plot lines. You have been warned.

I know I've not posted a lot recently. But I've had an excuse - I've been ill. Very, very, constantly ill. Feel free to make reference to whichever old wives' tale you feel this corresponds to. I assure you you won't be the first. But I did get out today to see the new Batman movie. Now, what some of you may not realize is that I'm a Batman fanatic. Yes, seriously. I adore him. And not the movie and/or TV Batman. I mean the comics. I adore Batman comics. I am the Queen of Batman. And Ra's? He the man. He is the only villain as far as I am concerned. How could you possibly not pity/love/be horrified by him.

So needless to say the movie was very much so my cup of tea. It was patterned off of the comics (Year One, to be specific, but I tried really hard not to hold that against him, but it was difficult. My hatred for Frank Miller is deep.) And Ra's was the main villain. Yep, it was true love.

I enjoyed that they went with Ra's and not Lady Shiva as his trainer. I feel both are equally good origin stories, but Ra's makes the most sense when you consider his grand scheme. After all, why exactly would an assassin help a playboy? Even a talented one? I was thoroughly miffed that Ra's actual goal was never discussed. Yeah, yeah make civilization a better place. Justice with an iron fist, yadda, yadda, yadda. Ra's wants a mate for his little girl and an heir apparent. All other goals are secondary. And Talia not being in the movie? Not a good thing. I know, they were pushing the Rachel angle, but the only woman Batman would and has ever loved and married is Talia. She's the perfect match, and playing with other's doesn't really change that.

The moment Liam Neeson started discussing loss and anger I knew he was Ra's. I even leaned over and told S,

"Good, he's the perfect Ra's."
"No, honey, he's not Ra's he's Ducard."
"Not with that back story he's not."

When the mountain top retreat burned down he even leaned over and whispered "Haha, Ra's is dead in the first hour. Um, hm..."

Later when the reveal happened I will admit to gloating more then once. Or say ten times.

Another nit-pick - Barbara's age. Maybe Gordon's wife is still alive, but there is no way Babs is still in diapers. Bruce Wayne is generally taken to be 36 or so, and is 29 in year one. So Babs gets shot/etc in the next 7 years? No...

But the biggest thing? That which made me cry? The damn ending scene was missing. The "Somewhere is East Asia" scene with Ra's walking out of the Lazarus Pit as fit as a fiddle. I kept expecting it. Once the movie ended I sat through the entire credits waiting for it. S waited with me.

"They have to have the scene."
"I know, they do."
"It must be there."
"It will."

I can only assume one of two things - a) the scene was deleted for time and will be on the DVD. or b) it will be the first scene of the next movie. Because, really? Ra's being dead is just silly. He had followers everywhere. Someone found his body and took him to the pit. It's what he pays them to do. I just found it to be horribly disappointing.

But, overall, I loved the movie. I loved the feel of it and the realism (well, within the Batman universe the realism.) I liked that Wayne Manor burned rather then the Earthquake getting it. I like how they got the prisoners out of Arkham. I like that we know that Victor Zsaz will probably be the next villain. I liked that Lucius Fox was in it. It was mostly all good.

But damn, if only it had that scene.

The Month of June is F-ing Cursed

2005-06-07T22:21:00.000-05:00

As I'm sure some of you remember, last June was when we found out about (and had the first steps of intervention for) my mother's breast cancer.

The doctor's notified her while we were gone on vacation the last week of May/first week of June. By the time I returned from my trip to Texas she had a biopsy scheduled. I then returned home early from my husband's step-mother's annual family trip to Indiana Beach in order to be able to go to the biopsy with her on the Monday after Father's Day.

This Monday after Father's Day? My father will be having his right upper lung biopsied after undergoing a bunch of blood tests and an MRI.

Great.

I've offered to return early again (I would have to take a separate car as my sister is also going to Indiana Beach with us.) But he's claiming it will be a long boring day and that he wants to go alone. I asked my mother if I should listen to this nonsense or insist upon accompanying him and she reminded me he's as stubborn as a mule and to let him go alone. This is a man who drove himself to the ER three times in the middle of the night in intensive pain and my mother was in the car with him.

Needless to say the fact that he even needs these tests is more then a little bit stressful.

He went in for his four year checkup after having his left kidney removed because of kidney cancer. (True story, we found out how old he really was moments before he went into surgery. Because, well, you don't lie to the nice man that's about to slice you open.) At the time they were certain it hadn't metastasized. His blood work has been looking wonderful for the past three years. Everything has been going just peachy until Monday. Monday they found a small mass in his lung. He quit smoking 29 years ago, so it's probably not related to that, and he has no other risk factors. So if it's cancer, they figure it's probably metastasized from the original site. Which is, you know, really, really, really damn bad. Especially finding it four fricking years later.

I'm, of course, still stubbornly insisting it's just some scar tissue. Probably from a bout of bronchitis this past winter.

Scar tissue people. Scar tissue.

Work with me on this one. Please?

Ever had one of those days?

2005-06-02T19:13:00.000-05:00

Today I was all set to be uber-productive.

I was up by 7, had Katie at my parent's house by 7:45. I was supposed to catch three cats and one dog for a trip to the vet's (and to the groomer for Sam.) I was going to finish the little bit of painting that was left on the old house. Go go me!

Instead I spent four hours removing a cat from a chimney. And then I cried. (Okay, I cried in the midst of the removal process also, but who's keeping track?) And then I napped. And then I spilled 20 ounces of coffee (with sugar and milk) on to the floor of my car.

Fun, fun, fun stuff.

Random News and Notes

2005-05-20T00:01:00.000-05:00

Informed MiL and SFiL of impending child. They were thrilled, but MiL is pushing a little too hard for a boy.

Missed getting a certified copy of our marriage license by 10 minutes. We have 3 uncertified copies, but none that are certified. How does that work?

The Apprentice finale - Duh.

The Pacers' loss - It was heartbreaking, but I'm glad Reggie's last game was at home. I was in tear by the time that sweet, wonderful Larry Brown used his last time out to help with the ovation for Miller. I'm glad that if we lost to anyone, it was last year's champions and a team coached by Brown. Both teams were utterly amazing before, during, and after the game. It was a game that should stand out as a shining example of sportsman like behavior.

Since Sunday we have been living with four dogs. One above my firm three dog limit. My sister found an incredibly sweet stray, so we've been fostering her until they can convince my father he wants another dog,. She really is a sweetie, but likes chasing cats too much. Sunday and Monday we had to keep her separated from our lot (Skippy hated her,) but now she's mixed in with them. I like her (as does Bear,) but I sincerely hope to be rid of her by the end of the weekend.

Wubba Wubba Wubba Wu

2005-05-17T22:32:00.000-05:00

For once, things went very well. There was a perfectly average fetus complete with a perfectly average heartbeat.

Yippee!!!

T-Minus Fourteen Hours

2005-05-16T20:39:00.000-05:00

In about fourteen hours I will have a clue as to whether or not this pregnancy is viable. Yep, I won't be sleeping tonight.

On the plus side I've had very little spotting and cramping. I have also come down with the obligatory pregnancy cold (why I've been so out of it for the past two weeks. Today is the first day in 15 I've not had a fever.) I have been experiencing morning sickness, and I have been taking my pills every single day (no small feat for me.)

On the minus side - I have had some spotting and cramping. I'm terrified I've just not had more because of the drugs. And I get morning sickness and a bad cold whether or not I carry to term.

Blah blah blah.

I could have had a clue last week, or even the week before. The nurse I don't see at my OB's office write down my LMP incorrectly and offered me a wrong appointment. But being the idiot I am, I called them back and rescheduled for 7w2d. Because I need to see a heartbeat. I've been down the "decent size, but no heartbeat. We'll wait until 10 weeks and see." road and it's not fun. So a heartbeat would maybe have begun to be detectable Sunday. So hopefully in will be tomorrow.

Hopefully.

You're it!

2005-05-14T23:48:00.000-05:00

I've been tagged...

by Lissa's Ramblings (and she was kind enough to let me know as I don't blogroll on the weekend!).

Choose 5 and complete the sentence and then tag 3 other bloggers...

If I could be a scientist . . .
If I could be a farmer . . .
If I could be a musician . . .
If I could be a doctor . . .
If I could be a painter . . .
If I could be a gardener . . .
If I could be a missionary . . .
If I could be a chef . . .
If I could be an architect . . .
If I could be a linguist . . .
If I could be a psychologist . . .
If I could be a librarian . . .
If I could be an athlete . . .
If I could be a lawyer . . .
If I could be an inn-keeper . . .
If I could be a professor . . .
If I could be a writer . . .
If I could be a llama-rider . . .
If I could be a bonnie pirate . . .
If I could be an astronaut . . .
If I could be a world famous blogger . . .
If I could be a justice on any one court in the world . . .
If I could be married to any current famous political figure . . .

If I could be a scientist I would be a medical researcher spending my time picking apart protein chains and amino acids. I would happily spends hours a day in my lab with a microscope.

If I could be a doctor my parents would be ecstatic. I, however, would choose pathology as the idea of holding people's lives in my hands doesn't thrill me as it does others.

If I could be a psychologist I would know better how to help my daughter and other like her. However, I doubt my own psychoses would pass.

If I could be a professor I would happily draw up historical lectures all day long while writing yet another brilliant book on post-Colonial African diplomacy.

If I could be a world famous blogger I would sell out in half a second flat and let ad revenue fund my lifestyle. But I don't think there's much call for an ultra liberal, fiber artist, stay a home mother to an autistic child who is trying to have another, who occasionally throws out complete mental goo. But that's just me...

I shall tag ACK, virtually everyone out there (who would do so) has been tagged! I choose Kym, Elfinlady, and Snow.

Pregnant Dreams

2005-05-13T23:52:00.000-05:00

A few nights ago I had a series of miserable nightmares. They were simply horrible. In one my husband left me. In the next he had an affair and I kicked him out. By the third he was leaving me for the other woman, and finally in the fourth I tried to forgive him and was shocked when he cheated yet again.

I wrote them off to the typical pregnancy dream insanity until I received a phone call right at lunch. It was S, and he was exhausted. It turns out that he had been unable to sleep that night and had gotten up a few times to do some work downstairs. He told me every time he left I whimpered and every time he came back I curled around him. Mind you, I normally don't move in my sleep so any expression at all is rather odd for me. So mystery solved. My subconscious was not at all thrilled with his getting out of bed repeatedly and built a whole slew of dreams around its unhappiness.

Bad, bad subconscious. But at least the dream thing was easy to figure out.

The game tonight was too much of a nail-biter at the end. Next time just keep the double digit lead guys.