Whistling in the Dark

This sucks!

2010-08-18T21:07:00.001-06:00

I'm at work right now. I can't concentrate at all.

My dog had surgery this morning to remove a mass on his side. When the vet opened him up he said that he was pretty certain it was cancerous, and that it was pretty invasive. What that means for the time being, I don't know. The mass is being sent off for testing to determine the type and severity of the cancer. We won't have results for a few days.

We adopted this dog from the pound 10 years ago (almost to the day!) when he was 2 months old. He's older than our children. I knew he wasn't going to last much longer, but he hasn't been acting like anything is wrong.

In fact, the only reason we brought him to the vet is because, what we had been told a few months earlier was just a lipoma and nothing to worry about, had changed size and texture drastically over the last week.

It's just such a shock.

I feel like I want the last 12 months back. It seems like everything that could go wrong, has gone wrong.

Starting at about this time last year:

Hubby lost his job because his employer ran out of money to pay their employees. He found another job, but it was still stressful for a little while.

Found out the Chipmunk was missing a testicle.

Around labor day, the Chipmunk had Roseola twice! A hospital visit for dehydration was included somewhere in there for him.

The Chipmunk had surgery to locate the missing testicle a few days before Halloween. We spent the night of Halloween in the ER due to an infection from the surgery, as well as dehydration.

My husband broke his shoulder on thanksgiving day.

Right before valentine's day I came down with mastoiditis - aka the ear infection from HELL - that lasted 4 months.

In the beginning of March, the kids and I all had the stomach flu so bad the Chipmunk and I had to be hospitalized for dehydration.

In June, I was diagnosed with scoliosis, degenerating disk disease, and bone spurs - at least I finally got an explanation for the back pain I've been suffering with for years.

The day after fathers day Hubby took 30 Tylenol PM and 6 vicodin, in an attempt to kill himself. A result of him taking too many prescribed steroids for his asthma and allergies.

The next week, the Monkey was diagnosed with asthma and has been given the greatest number of prescriptions than anyone else in the household combined.

The week after that, it was confirmed that the Chipmunk is extremely allergic to cows milk - making it nearly impossible for daycare to feed him anything she feeds anyone else in her care.

And now, the dog.

I think I would really like to slow down for a little bit. If I believed in god I would probably be thinking something along the lines of "you don't get more than you can handle".

But I don't believe in god. So, I have nothing to rely on but myself.

And I'm not sure how much more I can handle.

.

Stress

2010-08-18T01:53:00.000-06:00

So much has been going on my life lately that I'm not sure I can handle it all.

My back pain has been pretty bad lately. It's really affecting my attitude. I'm trying to get my chair at work fixed, but it doesn't look like it will happen anytime soon. That's what I get for working for the government.

This is what's been bugging me lately too. I try and take care of myslef and do the right things for my health, but everything just seems to get even more difficult the harder I try. At this point I'm thinking I shouldn't bother about the chair. But, I know that once it is fixed I'll feel much better. At least I hope that's the case.

The Hubs seemed depressed this morning. I'm worried about him all the time. I want him tell me what's wrong, but I don't want him to feel like I'm prying. I also don't want him to fell like if I don't try to find out what's wrong, then I don't care. It feels like I can't win no matter what I do.

.

Journaling

2010-08-15T16:17:00.002-06:00

I started seeing a new therapist a few weeks ago. I only saw the old one a few times too. I decided to change because she couldn't remember my name. Kind of important to remember who you're speaking to, don't you think?

Anyway, the new has asked that I start keeping a journal. I didn't tell her about the blog. Couldn't tell you why. Maybe it's because I post so rarely here that I don't really consider it a journal. Maybe it's because I don't think I could stand her wanting to read it. Who knows. I just know I don't want to tell her about it.

Anyway, I've never kept a real write-with-paper-and-pen journal. I hate the physical act of writing, it makes my hand hurt and my handwriting sucks so much I'm afraid I'd worry more about how the writing looked than what I actually wanted to write.

So I guess for now this will have to be my journal. I hope the few people who stop by don't mind. If you do, let me know and I might consider using an actual hard-copy journal. We'll see.

.

Playing favorites

2010-08-13T13:29:00.003-06:00

Yesterday I downloaded a song solely because it's the Chipmunk's favorite. I've never done this before, not even for the Monkey. It just makes me so happy when he starts dancing and singing along.

I'm afraid that the Chipmunk is turning into my favorite kid. I will do anything for him, even if it means that I suffer. He'll cry to be picked up, and I'll do it. He'll beg to go outside, and I'll go with him.

I'm not this accomodating with the Monkey. Is it because he's older and I can reason with him? Perhaps. Is it because if the Chipmunk doesn't get what he wants he throws a mega-tantrum? Maybe. But I'm not sure I don't get some sort of satisfaction from making him happy.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy making the Monkey happy, but the amount of joy the Chipmunk gets from little things seems a little intoxicating and I'd do anything to get that feeling myself. So, if I can make him happy, why not?

Am I wrong for doing this?

Does the Monkey realize the Chipmunk is my favorite?

Am I Spoiling him?

.

Decision

2010-07-09T07:33:00.000-06:00

I ended up starting the Lexapro the night I voiced my concerns. The final decision was made after a long talk with the Hubs where it was made clear that we are both going to need some help to get through this. Either medicinal, or otherwise.

I didn't take the Xanax until last night. It seems that one of the side effects of the Lexapro for me is insomnia. Since I was already an insomniac I was at my wits end after not sleeping for a few days. So, I took a Xanax last night and had the best nights sleep I've had in a long time. Which is unfortunate since I've just recently kicked an Ambien addiction. I really don't want to add Xanax addict to the list.

So, it seems for right now that there is better living through chemistry for me.

.

Unsure

2010-06-30T19:16:00.001-06:00

I don't know what came over me in that last post.

Unfortunately, I made it seem like the Hubs cheated on me. That is absolutely not the case. Although, I do think I feel somewhat betrayed.

Actually, I'm so confused I don't know if I even know what I'm feeling.

I went to the doctor today and asked for medication to help me cope with what's going on. I was prescribed Lexapro and Xanax. I'm scared to take them. I feel like such a failure for not being able to get through this without putting chemicals in my body. Chemicals that will change the way my brain works. Also, once I start taking them I'll have to stay on them or risk even more problems.

The sooner I start taking them, the sooner they'll start helping. But, what if the worst is over and I can get through the rest without assistance? I hate having these "what ifs" floating around my head.

Sometimes I wish we all came with owners manuals.

.

One week

2010-06-28T23:19:00.000-06:00

I feel like a sack of shit.

I'm so pissed at him.

I feel like I have lost my best friend. He says he wants to fix this. I want to fix this. I don't know if that's possible.

He says that I didn't have anything to do with it. I don't believe him. I don't believe him because the day it happened he called me to tell me what he had done. When I asked him why, he said that it was because he didn't think that I loved him anymore. If that's not an excited utterance, I don't know what is.

So now, I'm expected to go back to life as normal. I don't know how to do that.

He's getting help. He's on medication.

Where's my support? He was it. Now I can't trust him to be there for me. I have no one else in my life.

It's been one week and I can't concentrate on anything. I cant work. I can't sleep. I can't stop crying. He wants to know what's wrong.

What the fuck does he think is wrong?

.

Keep on truckin'

2010-06-14T00:21:00.000-06:00

Evidently I'm having a hard time keeping up here. No excuses, just blocked. Will try again.

.

Three days!

2010-01-27T12:05:00.000-07:00

It took me three days to figure it out.

Three days!

I bought the bottle on Sunday and didn't touch it until I was in the shower on Monday morning. So, maybe it only took me two days to figure it out.

I ran out of shampoo during my shower on Sunday morning.

I bought another bottle - with a pump dispenser - later on that morning.

While I was taking a shower Monday morning, I tried to open the new bottle - I couldn't do it.

I twisted, and twisted, the pump to try and get it to pop up so I could actually, you know, pump - I couldn't do it.

I tried pulling the pump up - I couldn't do it.

I went through all of this on Tuesday morning too.

Both days I gave up and took the whole top off of the bottle and dumped some shampoo into my hand. Do you know how awkward that is?

All this time I still had the old bottle (with the same pump dispenser!) in the shower. What can I say, I'm lazy.

Finally, on Wednesday morning, I came to my senses. I swapped out the pumps on the two bottles!

I was able to wash my hair without frustration.

I can't believe it took me so long to come up with a solution.

I'm such an idiot.

Either that or I'm just really tired when I shower in the morning.

Nah, I'm an idiot.

.

I can't sleep

2010-01-22T23:50:00.001-07:00

It's 15 minutes til midnight and I've been up since 5:45 this morning.

I've been running full on from then until 8:30 tonight. I was exhausted when I left work tonight.

But, for some unknown reason I'm awake right now. I've even taken extra Ambien and I still can't sleep.

What's wrong with me?

.

I don't know who to choose

2010-01-13T17:16:00.001-07:00

When I was driving home from work last week the song "Live Like We're Dying", by Kris Allen, came on the radio.

I don't like country music, and I'm pretty sure that's what you'd classify that song as. But, for the first time since it's been playing on the airwaves I actually listened to the words.

This next line made me think.

And then cry.

"And if your plane fell out of the skies
Who would you call with your last goodbye?"

My first reaction was that I would call my husband.

I immediately reconsidered and thought I would call the Monkey.

Again, I immediately reconsidered and thought I would call the Chipmunk. Oh how I would want to call the Chipmunk.

But then I felt guilty.

And confused.

I felt guilty because I was picking one of them over the others. I felt guilty because calling the Chipmunk wouldn't accomplish anything, since he wouldn't really be able to understand me.

I felt confused because I really would want to speak to all three of them, but if I truely had to choose one I kept going back to the Chipmunk. And I have no idea why.

That's why I was crying. I cried the whole way home after that. I kept going back to that line in the song and trying to make sense of my feelings.

Why do I have to choose one? They are all part of my heart. I would want them to know I was thinking of all of them during that time.

I guess I'm just going to have to hope it doesn't happen before I make up my mind.

.

This sucks

2010-01-08T22:23:00.001-07:00

It's almost six o'clock Friday evening and I'm still at work. I'm here until 6:15 - I normally finish at 4:15.

I'm still paying back my maternity leave. My employer doesn't offer what most people traditionally know as maternity leave. They will advance up to 240 hours of sick leave, which will then be paid back at the rate at which I earn it - 4 hours per pay period. And, that's assuming you take no other (advanced) sick leave for actually, you know, being sick.

Since I had the baby long over a year ago, and have only made headway on paying back about 35 hours, my employer is getting antsy about the amount still owed. Due to this, they "suggested" I work credit hours to have available should I, or anyone else I'm responsible for, get sick.

I've comitted to working 2 additional hours most Friday's until I have 24 hours saved up.

No one else is here.

I'm lonely.

I'm tired.

I can't wait to go home.

.

A little pee

2010-01-05T18:12:00.000-07:00

A while back all four of us were in the car.

I was driving, the hubs was in the front passenger seat.

Everyone was being quiet.

That's when the Monkey decided was the perfect time to announce - "Mommy & Daddy, sometimes, when I laugh, a little pee comes out."

The Hubs and I laughed so hard I almost did pee a little.

.

I want instant gratification!

2010-01-05T10:11:00.000-07:00

As I've already said, I received an iPod touch for Christmas.

I can blog from this thing!

The only problem is, I can't access any wireless networks from my office.

Bummer.

.

New Years Eve Eve

2009-12-30T11:39:00.001-07:00

Nanny and Pop went back to England today. It was very sad to see them go. The boys will really miss them. Pop was here for ten days longer than Nanny - to help me out after the hubs broke his shoulder. The Chipmunk will miss him the most - mostly because he won't understand what is going on.

The hubs and I are trying really hard to convince them to move here, and it looks like it might actually happen - at least more than it's ever been a possibility before.

We can only hope, right?

.

2009

2009-12-28T09:40:00.000-07:00

2009 has been really hard for me. I have been struggling with depression. And, even though I've been struggling with it so much, I've done nothing to seek help. Everytime I think about admitting I need help, I start feeling better, so I do nothing.

One of the reasons why I don't end up seeking help is because I don't think I can find the time to commit to it. I know that sounds like a cop-out, but it seems like everything has been going wrong this year.

The last time I wrote about the Chipmunk it was about how we had gotten a second opinion on his gagging problems. Well, the procedure was so traumatic for him I didn't feel like I could write about it afterwards. And, all that came out of it was a firm diagnosis of the reflux we've known he's had since he was about two months old. He has since gotten much, much better at keeping foods down, but he still has reflux, and is so underweight that he completely fell off the weight chart for kids his age. His weight issue doesn't seem to be too much of a result of his reflux, but more of a result of the problems he's had in the last few months.

In September, he had Roseola for a week. He didn't eat at all that week. Three weeks later, he had Roseola - again. Again, no eating for a week. At the end of October, he had surgery to correct an undescended testicle (that we didn't even know about until we saw the nurse practitioner at his 15 month well visit in September), he didn't eat for two weeks after that. Let's not forget the normal not-eating that occurs when any baby gets a new tooth.

The end of November brought us to the ER for the third time this year when my husband broke his shoulder on Thanksgiving morning.

Not everything has been bad this year. I've managed to lose 30 pounds, and I'm committed to start losing again after the holidays. The Monkey lost his first tooth. And, the Chipmunk is the most loveable little creature I've ever met. Also, I got an iPod Touch for Christmas - so I hope to do more writing here.

Anyway, I just wanted to get something written so I might be able to get a little momentum going.

I hope your year went well and I hope to get back to this blog soon.

.

Ladies First!

2009-06-29T19:47:00.004-06:00

The Monkey just told me that the next time we go out to the car I should go first. I asked him why, he said it's because ladies should always go first.

Awww.

He said he saw it on Lady and the Tramp.

See, some television is a good thing.

Cutie.

Second opinion on the Chipmunk!

2009-06-18T15:50:00.001-06:00

Last weekend was tough! Friday was the first day the Chipmunk had just milk in his bottles - according to his sheet from daycare, he did just fine. Before Friday we were slowly reducing the amount of formula and increasing the amount of milk in his bottles - he was doing fine with this, so it made sense to do away with the formula altogether. Unfortunately, he refused to take more than 2 ounces on Saturday, and 4 ounces on Sunday. Also, on Saturday, he refused to feed his Gerber addiction. Thankfully he came to his senses on Sunday and ate solids, even though we still couldn't get him to drink anything. By the end of the weekend the Chipmunk was a basket case (as were we).

So, on Monday I called the Pediatrician and told them that I thought his reflux was acting up. They asked me why I thought that and told them what he had consumed in the last 48 hours and how he was acting whenever I tried to get him to drink anything (in pain, wanting to drink but as soon as the bottle was in his mouth pulling away and screaming).

Needless to say, I got the green light to bring him in right away. By doing this, I accidentally got a second opinion on his eating problems.

It turns out the appointment I brought him to on Monday was with the Physician's Assistant. Not only was she concerned with the amount that he had ingested over the weekend, but she was very concerned about his weight overall. Apparently, the bare minimum they like to see at 12 months is that the baby has tripled his birth weight. The Chipmunk was born at 6 pounds 13 ounces - triple that would be 20 pounds 7 ounces. The Chipmunk was only 19 pounds at 12 months and 5 days. Obviously, he's not even close to what their bare minimum for weight gain is.

Another thing that had her concerned was the fact that he had obliterated their other bare minimum for weight gain at his 6 month check-up. At 6 months, they like to see a doubling of the baby's birth weight. Double his birth weight is 13 pounds 10 ounces - he was over 16 pounds at 6 months. According to the PA for him to slow down this much just as solid foods are being introduced is a huge red flag that something is wrong. Why didn't his regular doctor pick up on this?! Who knows.

The upside of all this though is the Chipmunk has some sort of swallow study scheduled for Tuesday. According to the person who scheduled it the Chipmunk has to drink a bottle of Barium for the radiologist to be able to watch as it goes through his digestive system on an x-ray. I don't see this being very successful since I can't get him to drink a bottle of milk - how the hell am I supposed to get him to drink something he's never had before? However, if we are successful with getting him to take the Barium and end up finding out that something is wrong we're going to be in the market for a new doctor.

Any suggestions on how we go about doing that? Clearly our current technique of choosing someone (walking into the closest one to our house and finding out if they are accepting new patients) hasn't worked.

Why do I have to be right all the time?

2009-06-09T12:55:00.001-06:00

Boo - I was right!

The Chipmunk hasn't even reached 19.5 pounds. In fact, he's only 19 pounds.

This puts him in the 5th percentile for weight - he was in the 45th at his 9 month check-up. Why such a huge drop?

I'm sure this is because he can't keep most solid foods down. If he would just quit puking, I'm sure he would put on some weight. At the rate he's going, he will still be facing backwards in his car seat when he's 18 months old.

The doctor doesn't seem concerned. His exact words - "he's a got a skinny brother, why should he be any different".

Yes, his brother is skinny. But, at least the Monkey has managed to stay on the same growth chart each time they weigh him. The doctor didn't even appear as if he wanted to talk about it. As soon as I brought up his eating issues and the fact that he doesn't drink as much milk as he needs to the doctor started to leave. As I continued to talk about it, he was in the doorway of the exam room with the door open and getting ready to walk away. That made me so angry!

I just don't know whether or not I should be worried. Hubby says that since the doctor isn't worried, then neither is he - after all, the doctor has been doing this for a long time, we should trust his judgment.

But what if he's wrong? What if something is actually wrong with the Chipmunk? I realize he hasn't lost any weight, but half a pound gain in three months? Surely that should be sounding some alarms - at least they are for me. I just don't know what to do about it, if anything.

You want what now?

2009-06-04T14:31:00.001-06:00

The daycare we send the kids to is a home-based daycare, certified by the state, run by a woman named MJ. She has three boys of her own. In addition to our two boys, she has three other boys attending daycare. So I guess you could say she knows boys. Obviously, she's had her own boys since infanthood, but she has also had two of the other boys since they were itty bitty (not including the Chipmunk). So I guess you could say she also knows how baby's work - although she is a little perplexed by the Chipmunk's problems with eating (as are we).

Even though his eating problems are annoying, we've all been dealing with them. We tell her if we've tried anything new and whether he was able to keep it down (normally we don't have good news for her), and she tells us if she's tried anything new and whether he was able to keep it down. She's normally more successful than we are with the introduction of new foods. So far, she has been able to get him to successfully eat Cheerios and any type of cracker (saltine, club, cheez it, graham...you get the idea). She has tried cheese, pancakes, mac-n-cheese, and a grilled cheese sandwich (in itty bitty pieces). All of these were immediately puked back up. So, as much as I would love for him to give up his Gerber addiction, it's currently really the only way for him to get his nutrients.

Because of her state certification she is subject to home visits from the people running the program (I'm assuming this is to make sure she isn't beating the kids or something like that). During the last few months the person visiting has been able to witness the problems the Chipmunk has with most table foods.

Also because of her state certification she gets to participate in the USDA food program. This means that she is able to get her weekly food bill subsidized for the meals that the daycare kids eat while they are under her care. This program has been especially useful for us since it meant that we didn't have to provide formula for the time that the Chipmunk was there - this practically cut our formula budget in half! On the other hand, we still have to provide the baby food he eats while he is there. However, now that the chipmunk is one he appears to be under different guidelines for what he is supposed to be eating.

When we picked the kids up yesterday we had note waiting for us stating that we needed to provide a doctor's note to MJ to be able to continue feeding the Chipmunk his Gerber goodness.

Say what now?!

I need a doctors note to provide the food that I want my child to eat?

Apparently, according to the USDA program guidelines, he's supposed to be getting all of his nourishment from regular table food and milk. And anything that differs from these guidelines needs to be approved by a doctor in order for MJ to remain in the program.

The last time I brought up the subject of the Chipmunk's super sensitive gag reflex with the doctor was at his 9 month well-baby check-up. The doctor's response "oh, my son did the same thing - he'll grow out of it eventually". Yeah, thanks - I didn't really think he'd still be eating Gerber's in College.

I get the feeling I'll get laughed out of the doctors office when I bring up my request for signed permission to continue feeding my child baby food. Based on previous experience with the guy, once he finds out that the Chipmunk is able to tolerate Cheerios and crackers he'll refuse to sign such a request. After all, if he can tolerate those other things he should be able to tolerate everything else.

I feel like I should lie to the doctor and tell him that the Chipmunk's not able to keep anything down. On the other hand, I feel like I should tell the doctor the truth. Unfortunately, I feel like telling the truth would result in not getting permission for the food that he needs while he is at daycare. My logical side tells me to tell the guy the truth, because who knows what that might tell him medically. But I really don't want the Chipmunk to become malnourished - or worse (is it really worse?), end up in the hospital because he can't keep anything down. I especially don't want him to start hating food because he starts throwing up every time we sit him down to eat. I honestly have no idea what to do. We didn't have this problem when the Monkey was a baby - at this age he ate anything that was put in front of him (unlike now, when he exists solely on water and air).

Maybe we should hope that the water and air diet works for the Chipmunk too - that just seems like the logical next step to me.

Guess the baby-weight

2009-06-02T16:07:00.001-06:00

Our main car is a Dodge Neon. It's supposed to seat five. I say the only way it's going to seat five is if it's two adults and three very small, not in any type of car/booster seat, children. So really, it seats four with room for jackets.

Hubby and I commute together practically everyday. This means that all four members of our family squeeze into the (very small) family car at least twice a day (it's especially funny when we have to go to Costco or Lowe's).

The Chipmunk is still facing backwards in his car seat, even though he turned 1 yesterday and could theoretically be turned around. To accommodate the rear-facing car seat the front passenger has to ride sitting straight up with his/her knees up against the dashboard - this is safe, right? We're waiting until his one year check-up on Friday to determine if he has reached 20 pounds yet. At his nine month check-up he was only 18.5 pounds, so there's a good chance that he hasn't made it (especially with all the puking and teething he's been doing lately). As much as I would love to turn the seat around, I do want to make sure the Chipmunk has reached the appropriate weight to do so.

I'm guessing he's not 19.5 pounds yet, let alone 20. How much do you think he weighs?

R.I.P.

2009-06-02T09:46:00.001-06:00

My camera is dead.

It's been dying for a few months now, but there was always some way to bring it back to life. Right now it's on life support when it really shouldn't be. It can't take pictures at all, though it can show you what's on the memory card. That's not what I want, or need from it. It lasted for just over 5 years. I think it's lived a good life.

I was so disappointed yesterday when I wasn't going to be able to take a picture of the Chipmunk trying to figure out what that hot glowing thing in front of him was (it was the candle on top of the cupcake he puked up). We gave the Monkey a really cheap digital camera for Christmas but we hadn't seen what it can produce until right before we sang Happy Birthday to the Chipmunk. It's crap. All of the pictures look like they were taken by someone in a car that was going 60 mph. We ended up using a disposable camera the Monkey had been given from my in-laws, but who knows if the pictures will actually come out (or if we'll even bring it to be developed).

So, I'm looking for a new camera. I want a DSLR, but I really can't afford one. Of the cheaper varieties I have seen, none of them come with a lens - I think they're kind of important, right? Can I use the camera without a lens? Also, if I could afford a cheap to mid-range one, which one would be the best? Also also, can DSLR's shoot video? Or, will I have to get a different device for that?

I hate that the camera chose now to completely crap out. I don't want to go back to my 35mm. I like the instant gratification of knowing whether or not what I took is the shot I wanted. I don't want to be a professional photographer or anything, but something decent would be great. I'm desperate right now and I don't think that's the best attitude to go shopping with since I'll probably end up getting whatever looks nice but might not do what I want.

So - help me choose a camera. If it means that I'll have to wait until our tax return next year, then so be it...I guess.

Happy Birthday, Chipmunk!

2009-06-01T20:25:00.004-06:00

One year ago, at this very moment, you were ripped out of the womb you had made your home. You were so in love with this place that you decided that an extra 6 (six!) days inside was appropriate. You probably would have liked longer but some doctor got it in her head that you were in distress and had to come out RIGHT NOW. She was probably right, you know. After all, she did have a lot of schooling to determine what was best for you (and only you).

I can't complain about your extended stay in my body too much, at least in there I knew you were well taken care of. Also, you managed to let the Monkey keep his birthday all to himself. Once you were out though, you were all on your own - and you weren't great at it to begin with either.

At first, you needed CPAP to help you breath, but were shortly able to adjust to a nasal cannula. I don't think you liked it very much. You managed to pull it out of your nose every chance you got. Unfortunately, you had to have it attached to your face at all times until you were 11 weeks old. That's a long time for you - almost a quarter of your life so far. The doctor kept telling us that if we were living at sea level you wouldn't need it. He told us this so many times that I finally asked him if he would like us to move, and I was serious. He didn't say anything after that. Thankfully, you were taken off of the supplemental oxygen and haven't looked back.

I've been worried about the damage the lack of oxygen has done - if any. It's probably still too early to tell, but I don't think you are going to have any problems (hopefully I didn't just jinx you). You have managed to do everything before your brother did. You were rolling over before you were three months old - the Monkey was six months. In fact, you started rolling just a few days after the supplemental oxygen was removed - I'm so glad you waited, I can't imagine the trouble you would have gotten into if you had gotten tangled in the oxygen tubing! You were crawling at seven months - the Monkey was almost eight months. I can't remember when you started sitting, but I'm pretty sure that was before your brother too. You haven't started walking yet so I think the Monkey will have you beat here. You're trying to walk, and are taking a few steps, but if you want to beat your brother you're going to have to take 23 steps all on your own within the next three days - I just don't see this happening. Go ahead, prove me wrong! Although you're excelling in physical areas, you are not yet able to show us whether the oxygen deprivation has affected your cognitive ability. I guess only time will tell here.

You are a very serious baby. It takes a lot to make you laugh. But when you do, it's the best sound I have ever heard.

You are still having trouble eating food that isn't pureed into an itty bitty pulp. Hopefully you will outgrow this soon. I felt so bad when we tried feeding you a cupcake tonight and you puked up the entire contents of your stomach! You were doing ok at first, but the 4th bite sent you over the edge. You love food so much, it doesn't seem fair to withhold the good stuff from you. We thought that you'd be able to handle the cupcake in very small pieces because you are now able to eat Cheerios and some crackers. At least, as long as you've had nothing else in the last hour you're able to eat these things without throwing up. I hope you get over this soon, you look so desperate to eat what's on our plates.

You're also doing better about letting Daddy give you a bottle - I am very grateful for this. In fact last night you only wanted a sip when I tried giving you your bottle. Because of this I decided to let Daddy put you to bed. When Daddy tried, you drank the whole damn thing! Can you keep this up please? Daddy was beginning to think you didn't like him as much as me - we don't want him thinking that do we?

You are my last baby. How I wish this weren't so. Unfortunately, I don't think my body could handle another pregnancy - and I want to be around for you and your brother for a long time. I wish you weren't growing up so fast, but then again I can't wait until you get to the stage that your brother is at right now. You are both going to be amazing people and I can't wait to see who you are going to be.

Happy Birthday! I love you to bits and pieces!

Happy Birthday, Monkey!

2009-05-27T18:53:00.010-06:00

Monkey,

At this very moment six years ago in Northern Vermont you entered the world. It was the most surreal experience of my life. Honestly, I didn't think I had it in me and I was petrified of the responsibility we were about to take on.

It turns out, we didn't need to be scared. I can't speak for your father, but I can safely say that you are the best thing that has happened to me - next to your brother, of course. You have made me accountable for my actions and have made me do things that I wouldn't normally have thought possible. I would do almost anything for you. I say almost because if I had to choose between killing a spider for you or running from the room shrieking, I'm afraid I'd have to choose the shrieking and running option. I've become stronger since you were born, but unfortunately this is still one area in which I have let my weakness overcome me.

In the short six years of your life you have become an amazing person. So confident, inquisitive, sensitive, and kind. You talk way more than we can handle at the moment, but I'm pretty sure that's going to turn out to be a good thing.

The way you are around your brother makes me extremely proud every single day. You don't show one ounce of jealousy towards him - I hope beyond hope that will continue. You love your brother so much, and it shows everyday. Where other siblings would get annoyed at the attention we show him, you just get in on it too. If we're playing a game with him, you want to join in immediately - not so we play the same game with you, but so you can make him laugh, or dance, or whatever it is we are doing at the moment.

The Chipmunk is learning to walk right now, and you are his number one supporter when we are not around. If he is getting into something he shouldn't, and we aren't there to take him away before he gets hurt, you do it - without being asked. I was so worried before the Chipmunk was born that you were going to resent not being an only child anymore since you had become so accustomed to having us all to yourself. I was wrong to be worried. You have adjusted to our new lives with such maturity, for which I am so thankful for.

You have made us so proud of you in school, too. You are reading way above the level that you should and keep amazing us everyday with the new words you know how to read. Like your parents, you have excelled at math as well. In Kindergarten this year, your teacher had you up in the front of the class helping her teach the lesson sometimes. This would normally embarrass other children, but not you. In fact, we didn't hear anything about it until parent-teacher conferences. It obviously didn't bother you one bit, otherwise you would have said something to us when it first happened.

You have come so far in the last six years.

You have come from this:

To this:

I can't wait to see who you become, I'm sure it's going to be great!

5 years and 4 days apart

2009-05-26T15:55:00.001-06:00

I have now entered what will forever be known as Birthday Week.

Tomorrow, May 27th, is the Monkey's birthday.

At 8:53pm EST my first born will turn six years old. The math hardly seems right. Actually, it seems possible and impossible at the same time. These six years feel like they have flown by, but they also feel like they were the longest six years of my life.

Monday, June 1st, is the Chipmunk's birthday.

At 10:25pm EST my second born will turn one year old. He was due today, but held out for another few days to make sure he didn't steal too much of the Monkey's Birthday Thunder (or at least that's what I'll tell them when they get older). Again, it hardly seems possible that only a year has passed. So much has happened in the last twelve months that it seems impossible to comprehend.

Because of the Monkey, I became a mother. Because of the Chipmunk, I will always be a mother to two boys. I find it hard to remember life without either one of them. Each one has left their mark on me, and I will be forever changed for it.

Happy Birthday, Boys! I love you both to bits and pieces.

Better

2009-05-13T20:37:00.002-06:00

I just got back from the gym where I was able to run for five separate minutes! I was aiming for four, but for some reason I felt like I could do five - so I did! It wasn't five minutes all together, but that will come. I walked for about 15 minutes first and then ran for a minute. Then I walked for two minutes and then ran for a minutes. I kept this pattern up for the five separate running portions. I can't believe I'm actually doing this.

This time the shin splints weren't nearly as bad as last time. Actually the only thing that really bothered me were my feet. I think I might need to get different shoes once I start running for longer. Next time I'll aim to run for six minutes.

This is gonna be harder than I thought

2009-05-11T20:53:00.003-06:00

I only got about half-way through the first day of the Couch to 5k program.

I ran three times...and then I died.

The End.

Actually, I walked for the remaining 17 or so minutes but my legs were really feeling the burn, and the shin splints were killing me. I'll aim to run four times on Wednesday.

On the road to a healthier me

2009-05-11T14:25:00.001-06:00

With both of my pregnancies I only gained 19 pounds.

After both children were born, I lost those 19 pounds before my six week follow-up.

Before both of those pregnancies I was nowhere near my ideal weight.

Both times, once I returned to work, I put the weight back on. This time around, I've put on more weight than I did my whole pregnancy.

It's not that I'm eating more. It's just that I'm not moving much. I'm just so wiped out after getting up at 6am, getting the kids ready for their day, getting ready for mine, getting the kids to daycare, working all day, picking the kids up from daycare, making dinner, putting the kids to bed, cleaning, laundry, blah, blah, blah....I have little energy to do anything else.

I have come to realize that my sedentary lifestyle has probably contributed to the increase in my blood pressure (well, I knew it before, but now I want to do something about it). So about a month ago, I started going to the gym. At first it was with a friend of Hubby's, but now she's my friend too - let's call her Cracker.

Cracker has a gym membership at 24 Hour Fitness that let's her bring a guest every time she goes for free. This was good for me since I wanted to get in better shape but didn't think I had the money to spend on a gym membership. This was good for her because she wanted someone to workout with.

At first I was a little skeptical. Cracker is in far better shape than I am and weighs a heck of a lot less. But, as it turns out, we work well together. In fact, we have even signed ourselves up for weekly torture, erm, sessions with a trainer. We've had two sessions so far.

After reading through Miss Zoot's archives and seeing her achieve her goal of running a marathon, I've been inspired to set a goal for myself. Since I'm so out of shape, and haven't run since races at summer camp, I decided to aim a wee bit lower.

I want to be able to run a 5k by my next birthday - April 10th 2010. If I'm able to do it sooner than that, great! But I also don't want to set myself up for disappointment. I am going to follow the Couch to 5k program starting today. I have joined a gym on my own so I don't have to depend on Cracker whenever I want to work out.

Also by my next birthday, I want to be 100 pounds lighter. I'll settle for 75 pounds, but I think 100 is possible and I don't want to aim for a weight that I wouldn't be happy with since I fear I might stop once I reach whatever goal I set for myself.

We have 14 sessions left with the trainer.

Wish me luck!

What's your definition of tragic?

2009-05-07T13:59:00.001-06:00

A few weeks ago, on a late Saturday afternoon, I was trying to take a nap so that I would be able to stay awake through the movie Hubby and I were planning to see on our "date".

About two minutes after falling asleep, the phone rang. Since we were getting a sitter to be able to go out on this date I thought it was her having to cancel. I considered this as the only option considering the only other phone calls we get are from my husband's family, which meant that a phone call that late would mean something was wrong given the time difference to the UK.

I looked over at the phone to see the caller ID show the names of my parents.

After last summer, I assumed I would either never hear from them again or, at the most, hear when one or the other had died - either way, I didn't care. So you can just imagine my surprise. Hubby was shocked too. In fact we were so shocked, neither one of us wanted to answer the phone. So we let the machine get it. No message was left. I wasn't able to fall asleep again after that.

About an hour later the phone rang again - at the exact moment our sitter was ringing the doorbell to relieve us of our parental duties for the evening. The caller ID showed the names of my parents again. Since I didn't feel like being admonished for being a horrible daughter right before our night out, we decided to let the machine get it. This time a message was left. It was the Doormat.

He said that he had something to say to me. That I shouldn't worry, it wasn't anything tragic. He'd be up until 10pm his time if I chose to return the call.

We went for our night out and had a good time, but a lot of the talk centered around the message. Like, what did he mean by "it's nothing tragic"? Also, was I even going to call him back? Personally, I didn't feel like putting myself in a position where I would feel compelled to forgive either of them for what happened, nor did I want to put myself in a position where I would start having a relationship with them again only to have the same shit happen again in a few years - I can't go through this again. Additionally, I didn't feel like calling and getting the Witch on the phone by accident. Finally, I didn't want to listen to reason after reason of why I'm a horrible person and substandard daughter.

I thought about what I was going to do for a little over a week, if I was even going to do anything. Instead of calling, I sent an email. In it I told him that if there was something that he needed to say to me, email was best. This way I could either read it or not. If I wanted, I could have Hubby read it first to see if the Doormat was going to rip me a new one.

A few days later I received a response from the Doormat. It turns out that the something he wanted to say to me was this:

I've thought about it, and I thought you should know that [the Witch] had a stroke about a month ago. She's completely paralyzed down her right side and can't speak at all....yada yada.

My first thought was that she had gotten what she had deserved - after all, karma's a bitch. I realize that makes me sound like a horrible person. But then I realized I didn't wish harm on her, at least not physical. Not only that, but I don't think I wished harm on the Doormat, I was just disappointed in him. Now he's saddled with dealing with this all on his own. I don't want that, and I don't think he can do it. Not only is his health not the greatest, but he is in no position to be lifting and moving an invalid around their three story house by himself and I don't think he's the type to hire help. However, since I'm not speaking to him I don't think it's my place to say anything about my concerns. So, I sent an email empathizing with his situation and telling him to let me know if there was anything I could do to help.

However, I still want to know, what do you think is his definition of tragic? The dictionary defines tragic as "very sad; especially involving grief or death or destruction;". Would you not classify what happened to the only person in your life you should love more than yourself as tragic? It makes me wonder whether he was hoping for something to happen to release him from her, or if he just chose the wrong word.

Knowing him though, he knew exactly what word he was using and it's intended meaning.

And now I wait. I'll either hear back from him soon asking for assistance, or I won't hear anything until after the funeral.

Knowing the Doormat, it will be the latter.

The art of laughter

2009-04-03T15:33:00.001-06:00

It takes a lot to get the Chipmunk to smile. It takes even more to get him to laugh. So, when I found something that made him laugh last weekend I was thrilled!

All I was doing was pretending to nibble his cheek right where his jawbones and ear meet. He thought it was hysterical. The Monkey was watching Pinocchio at the time and got upset that he couldn't hear the movie so we had to stop our fun. But the Chipmunk wanted it to keep going. The way he told me? He would nudge his forehead against my lips, kind of like a cat does when it kisses you.

It was so sweet, I just want to remember it forever.

Who doesn't like Redi-Whip?

2009-03-25T12:48:00.000-06:00

Remember how I've mentioned that the Chipmunk won't eat anything unless it's been pureed? I wasn't joking.

He'll be 10 months old next week and he still hasn't had a cheerio. We've put them in his mouth, but after about two seconds he starts gagging and proceeds to projectile vomit. It's not pretty. We've also tried him on those Gerber Puff things since they just dissolve the second they get into your mouth. That produces the same effect as a Cheerio.

Last night we tried Redi-Whip. Hubby put some on the tip of his finger and let the Chipmunk lick it off. We thought he would love it. I mean, who doesn't like cream or sugar? Put them together and it should have been fool proof! I mean, the stuff practically disintegrates the second it leaves the can. He should have loved it - dammit!

You can guess what happened, can't you?

He gagged and projectile vomited the second he tried to move the stuff from the front of his mouth to the back.

When is he supposed to get over this? The Monkey was eating Cheerios at seven months and could probably do it semi-unsupervised by ten. I don't remember it being this hard. Even now, if the Chipmunk's rice cereal isn't as watery as he would like he starts the whole gag routine. I know kids develop at different rates, but this seems a little extreme. At the rate we're going, he'll be in Kindergarten before he's able to eat like a toddler. Any suggestions?

What's in a name?

2009-03-24T14:30:00.000-06:00

I'm still trying to get used to the fact that I have a baby. Hell! Just the fact that I have two kids tends to blow my mind some days.

What I'm also trying to get used to is the baby's name.

I call the baby the Chipmunk here, but his real name is James...it isn't, but let's just say that's what it is. It would have been extremely cruel for us to name him that with the last name it would be paired with.

Anyway, when I was still pregnant with him we were absolutely, positively sure it was a girl. So sure, in fact, we hadn't come up with any boy's names until two weeks before I was due. We had a girl's name that we absolutely loved, but knew we should come up with a boy's name just in case we were wrong.

We decided on James since we liked the possible nicknames and it seemed to go with the Monkey's name. We thought we would call him Jimmy most of the time, but it turns out we use Jim or James most often. I don't think we've referred to him as Jimmy unless it was a joke.

The day the Chipmunk was born was one of the scariest days of my life. Things were not going as planned at all and I ended up needing an emergency C-section after 24 hours of unmedicated labor (unmedicated for pain, about 14 hours of pitocin). The doctor's were so concerned with saving him, and making sure nothing happened to me, that they forgot to check the gender when he was taken out.

Since I was so numb (as well as petrified) I had no idea that he had been taken out already until one of the doctor's said that the baby looked ok and they were getting ready to stitch me up. All day the doctor had been referring to the baby as he and him. She wasn't my regular doctor so she had no idea what the gender was, I just think it was her way of not confusing the baby with the mother (who is most definitely a she/her). So, after she had said she was going to stitch me up, she followed that with "he's just going to get looked over and then brought to the nursery".

This is what went through my head - Wait, did she just say he? Was that because it's a he? Or, is it because she's been referring to it as a he since I was admitted last night?

So, we did the logical thing and asked her to clarify.

Turns out she didn't look. Thankfully, the anesthesiologist ( I sooo had to look that up) offered to go check for us. When he returned he confirmed that the Chipmunk was indeed a boy.

After that, everything just moved so fast. The Chipmunk was taken down to the NICU for additional monitoring since he wasn't breathing right. I ordered Hubby to go with him. After I was stitched up I was taken to a room for observation as well. By the time I was out of Recovery, Hubby had told everyone in our families - as well as the hospital staff taking care of him - that his name was James.

Unfortunately, I don't feel like he is a James or a Jim. And he's definitely not a Jimmy.

What makes it worse is that his middle name is my maiden name. Given the crap that went on with my parents a few weeks after he was born, I'm sure you can see why that pains me.

To sum up, I'm not sure about his first name and I hate his middle name. I know I could have the names changed, it just seems wrong now. I just wish Hubby had waited to confirm with me that that's what I was sure I wanted his name to be.

I should have given naming responsibilities to Clink. She has already suggested a new nickname for my mother-in-law - BMIL (British Mother in Law). I think this is genius! She likely would have done much better than we did with the baby's name - dontcha think?

My mother-in-law is handy

2009-03-23T13:16:00.001-06:00

My mother-in-law (I'll call her Nanny) is coming for a visit on April 1st. She'll be staying with us for ten days - yippee!

I love it when she visits us. If she and my father-in-law would just move here already we would be very happy people.

This morning I thought of a very wonderful benefit of having her home all day with nothing to do while we are at work - cook dinner.

I cook dinner maybe three of the five weeknights. The other nights we're either just too busy or, forgot to take something out or, are way to exhausted to put any effort into it. Sometimes we have take-out, sometimes we have cereal.

So, to say I'm excited to have a home cooked meal waiting for me when I get home is an understatement.

I also thought of another benefit of having Nanny here - she'll be able to wash the Chipmunk's sleepsack!

The Chipmunk likes to use the top of this sleepsack as his comfort item. The second we put it on him he sticks the top part where the zipper is straight into his mouth. He probably sucks on it all night. Why he won't suck his thumb, is beyond me.

After a few nights of this treatment, the sleepsack is all kinds of nasty - washing only helps, but it does not get completely clean. Unfortunately they are expensive, so we only have one. The one we have is made out of fleece, which means putting it in the dryer is a no-no if you want to keep the fleecy quality of it. Since we're not home when he is not, it's extremely difficult to wash the thing. He's so attached to it, he struggles to sleep without it while we wait for it to air-dry.

With Nanny home during the day while we are at work and the Chipmunk is at daycare, the sleepsack could get washed everyday! This brings real joy to me - the thing might actually get clean!

Do you think Nanny will mind these chores?

Here comes the sun

2009-03-13T10:32:00.006-06:00

Not literally. I don't think, anyway.

All last week I was sick as a dog. It started with a little mini-cough which very quickly turned into something horrendous. After about 36 hours I was achy, had the chills, and was coughing up a lung. Turns out, I had the flu. At on point my fever was so high Tylenol and Advil did nothing to help. I thought I was going to have to go to the Emergency room. Thankfully, I came to my senses and took a shower. This brought my fever down to something more manageable. I didn't move from my bed for two days. Hubby did everything for the kids (except, of course, feed the Chipmunk). I got sick on Sunday.

Unfortunately, Hubby left to go back to the UK on Wednesday. It wasn't for a long trip, but it was long enough - he got home very late this past Sunday night. The days that I was still very sick but he wasn't here were not fun. The misery was going to be added to this past Friday when the boys had their check-up (Monkey for his annual, Chipmunk for his nine-month). I could have sworn one or both of them were due for shots. The last time the Monkey got shots he couldn't walk for days due to some adverse reaction. Every time the Chipmunk gets shots he's miserable and doesn't eat for days. This is why we try to schedule their appointments for Fridays. It's better for them to have the weekend to recover instead of us needing to miss work. Unfortunately, since Hubby was gone, I was going to have to deal with the recovery on my own while I was still feeling miserable myself. Thankfully, I was wrong about either of them needing shots and we were all able to survive the weekend - for the most part.

It seems I always fear the worst, but never hope for the best.

A while ago I wrote about the panic attack I had while I was still pregnant. My worries then were mainly about money - mainly not having enough after the baby was born to meet our current commitments, let alone any added expenses that resulted from a having a new baby around. As a re-cap:

I was going to be taking 12 weeks off of work, 3 of which were going to be unpaid. A loss of about $2000.
Taking that much time unpaid was going to result in me needing to pay for the company's portion of health insurance, about an additional $800 for the time I would need to pay.
I was probably going to fail miserably at breastfeeding, which meant we would need to spend money on formula, at least an additional $200 a month.
The mortgage on our rental unit was set to go up by $400 last July.
We would need to find a new daycare, since the old one was not going to be able to take the baby.
Let's not forget the already known about costs of diapers and daycare for the baby.

As it turned out, I didn't need to worry as much as I did.

I only took 9 days off unpaid. My maternity leave wasn't as long as I had hoped for, but it's what was best for our family financially. I think the total loss was about $1500, but I was able to stagger the unpaid time off so it didn't hurt as bad.
I didn't have to pay anything for the company's portion of my health insurance, this was incorrect information that was given to me.
I did fail miserably at breastfeeding, but we decided to go with generic formula this time around - saving us about $30 a can. A bonus of using the generic stuff is the fact that daycare will provide the baby any formula he uses while he is in her care. Now formula only costs about $40 a month.
I was entirely wrong about the mortgage. I think I must have been hallucinating when we originally closed on the note.
We found a new daycare. It took a while to find someone who would be able to accept both children and was able to take the Monkey to and from school. Considering the baby was a few months away from being born, and then wouldn't need care for another 12 weeks, we were really lucky we found someone when we did. We were also lucky she didn't want us to pay for the Chipmunk when we started using her just to keep his slot open for the 5 months she wouldn't be taking care of him - most daycares I was calling was making this a requirement.
A few weeks before I was scheduled to return to work, I got promoted. The change in my pay covered the new daycare cost - yay!

Unfortunately, we did end up having a few extra costs that were not anticipated in my original freak-out.

The Chipmunk stayed in the NICU for 6 days - $600
The Chipmunk needed supplemental oxygen for 11 weeks - I thik we ended up paying about $50 for this.
Because of the need for supplemental oxygen, he had more doctors' appointments than anticipated - this resulted in about $60 of additional co-pays.
The Chipmunk developed torticolis. This is still being treated by the chiropractor, but he is much better. An additional cost so far of about $250.

This is way better than I had initially anticipated. I wish I could have the mentality that it will all work out, saving me a ton of stress, but unfortunately that does not appear to be who I am.

Remember the blood tests I had a few weeks ago? I just go the results. Ever since the blood was drawn I was anticipating horrible news. I was certain something terrible was going to be revealed as the reason for my sudden increase in blood pressure. Something was found, though I'm not sure yet if it explains the blood pressure issue.

I'm Vitamin D deficient.

What that means yet, I have no idea. At first I thought, hey that's great! Nothing is really wrong. At least nothing a little more time out in the sun won't fix. Unfortunately, after doing a little research, it's not looking that simple.

I know Vitamin D is used to aid in the absorption of Calcium, so I'm at risk of brittle bones. Whether there are other problems associated with this deficiency has not been explained to me yet. I have an appointment in a little over a month to find out. Hopefully I can learn from the past year and try and have the mentality that everything is going to work out just fine. Wish me luck.

Well, that was easy

2009-02-25T15:53:00.001-07:00

A few weeks ago I wrote about the Monkey's very poor eating habits. I don't know if I made it clear in that post, but most mealtimes were fraught with pleading and anger - from both sides. He was pleading to be done or to have dessert, we were pleading for him to JUST TAKE ONE FRICKING BITE IT'S NOT GOING TO KILL YOU; he was angry because he had been fed something he didn't even want to try and because he wanted dessert, we were angry because he wouldn't JUST TAKE ONE FRICKING BITE IT'S NOT GOING TO KILL YOU!

Many times Hubby and I have discussed what we should do with the Monkey's extremely strong will to not eat anything that looked remotely healthy. Many times we have come to the conclusion that we should just not show him that we care. Many times we have resorted to the "take a bite, come on, please for me" routine. Then it would turn into, now you have to take three bites before you can leave the table or get dessert. Then it would turn into the Monkey asking how many bites he had to take to be done and get dessert before he even started the meal. This pattern would replay itself many, many times. Dinner was very, very painful to endure - to say the least.

This time I didn't discuss the game plan with Hubby.

The Monkey would whine and moan about what was being served, my reply was "ok, you can be done if you want". Then he would ask for dessert. My response was "nope, if you want dessert you have to eat what is on your plate". He would then proceed to whine some more. Hubby would get upset that we were letting the Monkey win and that he had to eat dinner or else he'd be up too early because he was hungry. My response to Hubby was that I was done fighting with the Monkey over what he ate. He could either eat what we made for him or go hungry.

Over the last two weeks something very bizarre happened. Sometimes the Monkey would complain about what he was being fed, and then he'd get to the point where he would ask if he could be done with dinner. When I would respond that he could be done, he would then ask for dessert. After realizing that he wasn't going to get dessert, and that he actually was hungry, he would turn around and come back to the table and finish everything on his plate - regardless of what it was. For the most part we were feeding him things that he would normally eat, albeit with a fight.

Last night we had something we never dreamed we could get him to eat, regardless of what the reward was. We fed him stew with a side of rice. He moaned the second we put it on the table, saying he didn't like it without even taking a bite. He loves rice, so he ate that and said he was done. Could he have dessert? Nope, not until all the meat and potatoes were gone. He said that he didn't want dessert and left the table. The Monkey saw that the Chipmunk was gobbling up his yummy (to the Chipmunk, yucky to me (trust me, I see the irony)) pureed squash and would soon be having dessert (pureed bananas). So, the Monkey turned around and came back to the table and ATE EVERY LAST PIECE OF MEAT AND POTATOES. He even ate a slice of carrot. With only the teeniest bit of complaining.

To say I'm thrilled is an understatement.

Some things

2009-02-24T13:20:00.004-07:00

I'm writing this from my brand new HP Mini! We got it a few weeks ago and we're still getting used to the fact that we have a laptop again. And, not just any laptop, one that is just so wee! The smaller keyboard is taking some getting used to, but other than that it is just fabulous.

***

I just returned from a doctor's appointment. I didn't think anything was wrong with me. It was an appointment that was forced on me by the doctors office so I could continue getting my prescription for my blood pressure refilled. The nurse also said that they wanted to run some labs since it had been a while since they were done.

So, I went to the appointment at about 9:30 without having breakfast (because of the labs they wanted to do). I nearly hit the floor when the nurse showed me the blood pressure reading - 172/110! I had no idea it was even high, let alone that high. I've been taking my medication regularly, but now that I think about it my head has been hurting for the last two weeks or so. Hmmmm. I guess more drugs for me then. I hope nothing too terrible shows up on the bloodwork.

The right place at the right time

2009-02-06T11:29:00.000-07:00

Casey is a goddess. She has managed to do something that I have not been able to do for over a year now.

She got my Hubby to buy a new computer.

A few days ago I was reading this entry while Hubby was in the shower. In that entry, she has you click over to her new review blog. The review at the top of the page that day was about her awesome new HP mini. So, by the time Hubby was out of the shower I had customized one for myself, on a whim. I knew Hubby would never go for the girly red one for two reasons: it was red and had flowers on it and, it was way more expensive than the one with no flowers on it. As soon as he saw it he told me to buy it.

So, for $425 we will be the proud new owners of the smallest laptop I have ever heard of.

At first we were a little unsure. There were a couple of issues that popped up during the discussion of whether or not we should get it.

First, it was an HP. We had had a ton of problems with our last laptop, also made by HP (but sold to us under the Compaq name). It's so old, I can't seem to find a link for it. But, the reason we bought that particular laptop almost 4 years ago was because I thought that I was going to need one with a full sized keyboard because I needed the number 10-key for my job. Turns out, I changed jobs about a month after getting the biggest/heaviest laptop known to man and had no use for it anymore. Since then, the laptop has been dying a slow and painful death. First, the motherboard had to be replaced twice in the first month that we owned it. Second, the battery quit working completely about two years ago. So much so, the computer wouldn't work at all when the battery was in the computer. It's been without a battery since 2007. Finally, it just stopped turning on about three months ago. However, somehow, we got over the HP name pretty quickly, just not sure how.

Second, it didn't come with a cd drive. This took a little longer to get over. The mini had an external drive you could purchase for $99, but that seemed to bring the cost of the laptop into the Dell range where the cd drive is internal. So, since we didn't want to spend another $100, how were we supposed to get any software on this computer? It turns out that we can take the cd drive (also a dvd burner) out of the crappy 4-year old laptop that died last year, pay $20 for some sort of case, and connect it to the mini via a USB cable. Problem Solved!

So, HP will build our new laptop in the next week or so and all will be right in the world. Yay!

Thank you, Casey.

Sleep is not for the weak

2009-02-05T10:44:00.002-07:00

Not only do I have a kid who doesn't make it absolutely clear that his ears are killing him (poor Chipmunk), but it appears I have a kid who will sleep through the night as long as his bum is not swimming in crap - painfully sore ears be damned!

Adventure's in motherhood. Or, you know, why I'm a horrible mother.

2009-02-04T15:13:00.001-07:00

The Chipmunk woke up at 2am.

I waited a little to see if he would go back to sleep, which he did after a little bit of on-again/off-again fussing - nothing major. But then he woke up again. I figured that since he had only had 15 ounces of formula yesterday (his normal is about 24) I should go in and try and feed him so we could both go back to sleep.

I prepared the bottle and went into his room to change his diaper.

As I walked into his bedroom I smelled something foul. Just to make sure it was coming from him (where else would it be coming from? Hey, it was 2am, give me a break) I picked him up and took a whiff of his bum (shut up, you've done it too). I nearly passed out from the smell.

Realizing that I was going to need the wipes (ya think?) that were in our bedroom, I put him down and blood-curdling screaming ensued.

Hmmm, that's weird. Normally he just does a little more fussing until I return. Oh well, he's probably just as upset as I am that he wasn't sleeping through the night (I've come to expect it now - I know, what was I thinking?), or at least that's what I think as I left the room (it's 2am people!).

After: procurement of said wipes, unzipping his sleep sack, and opening his pj's - I realize that I didn't hear the alert (danger! danger! blowout! blowout!) and that I would need to light on for this diaper change. There was crap everywhere!

I begin cleaning him up, holding back my own vomit. With every wipe comes an even louder blood-curdling scream. The poor thing, who went to bed with a very dry, very white bum had the reddest, weltiest bum I had ever seen.

Finally, Hubby hears what is going on and comes in to see what I'm doing to the Chipmunk to cause such screaming (why assume I'm doing something to him? I don't think I've been known to abuse our children - especially in the middle of the night - no, I save the abuse for the daylight hours (kidding)).

I thank god he's awake so he can get the diaper rash cream for me before I put a new diaper back on. Also very thankful because now Hubby can change the sheet on the crib mattress I can't reach with one hand (you know, since screaming bloody murder baby won't let me put him down).

After the Chipmunk settles down he decides that yes, a bottle of milk would be great right about now. Hubby goes back to sleep, and chug chug chug, so does the Chipmunk.

Repeat at 5:30, except for the bottle and the going back to sleep.

At the 2am debacle it was already decided that the Chipmunk would not be attending daycare today. Not fair on him, and definitely not fair on daycare lady (or, you know, the other parents who expect their kids to not come home with the bum plague). And, because I used all of my paid time off last summer for my maternity leave, Hubby will be staying home with him.

However, before I leave for work, I make a trip to Walgreens for some Pedialyte.

The bottle says to ask a doctor if giving to a kid under one.

The Chipmunk is under one.

Hmmmm.

It's 6:30 in the morning at this point, the doctor's office is not open. So, I opt for the next best thing - the pharmacist. He says to give the baby a 50% Pedialyte and 50% water mixture for now, but call the doctor when the office opens.

Giving the mixture to the Chipmunk is easier said than done.

The Chipmunk is no fool. Evidently, he knows the evil taste of Pedialyte before I am even able to get the bottle close to his mouth - forget about in it.

I let the Hubby know that I was not having any luck but I had to go to work and that I'd call the doctor's office at 8am. Good luck!

I got a hold of the nurse practitioner as soon as possible. She asks questions like:

"How often is the diarrhea?" Um, about every three hours.

"Is he running a fever?" I think so, he's awfully warm. Tylenol did not help, but Motrin did.

"Try not to give him Motrin." Doh!

More conversation about what I can give him to eat and drink. Blah, blah, blah. If he's still not better within 48 hours bring him in, within 24 hours and still running a fever bring him in.

Then she asks:

"Are his poo's bright green and unbelievably smelly?" Um, yes. And they were the consistency of cottage cheese yesterday.

"Oh. Bring him in today. It sounds like it's the Rotavirus." Um, ok.

Appointment is scheduled and Hubby is called with the time.

After the appointment, Hubby calls to tell me that it's not the dreaded Rotavirus, but that the Chipmunk has a double ear infection.

Wha??? How is that possible? I thought he had a stomach virus? Nope. No clue what is up with the diarrhea and the welty bum. So, she gave Hubby some stuff for the Chipmunk's welty bum, some soy formula to make his poo's more solid, and a prescription for an antibiotic

I mean, I know he's been tugging at his left ear on and off for about 10 days now, but that's all. He's more or less been as happy as his normal eight month old self.

Oh right. That. Hmmm, I guess I should have paid more attention to that. The poor thing has been suffering for almost two weeks and I completely ignored his way of telling me!

And that, my friends, is why I am a horrible mother.

Email me and I can give you the address of where you can send my awards to.

No Headgear Needed

2009-02-02T15:33:00.002-07:00

Phew!

We took the Chipmunk to the Neurosurgeon today. Thankfully, his torticollis induced misshaped head is nothing dire. It does not need to be fixed with either surgery (if I were religious I might be putting in an AMEN here, but I'm not, so I won't) or a helmet. The doc says that the Chipmunk will grow out of it by the time he's two.

Like I said - Phew!

Milestones

2009-01-30T14:12:00.001-07:00

Apparently my boys like to do things backwards.

Yeah, yeah - I know every kid develops at his or her own pace. But, I was talking with the pediatrician a few weeks ago and he asked if the Chipmunk was able to sit up for more than a few seconds yet. I said that he wasn't but he was crawling everywhere just fine so I wasn't worried at all. The pediatrician was astonished and said that he had never heard of it happening in that order before. My response was something along the lines of too bad the Monkey was not his patient when he was a baby, because he did the same exact thing. Except he went from crawling, to cruising, then to sitting up. Again, the pediatrician was astounded.

Now, I have nothing to worry about the Chipmunk meeting his developmental milestones - he's sitting up, all on his own...and crawling.

Now we just have to bring him to the Pediatric Neurosurgeon on Monday to make sure his misshapen head isn't something to worry about. Wish us luck!

The diet of a Kindergartner

2009-01-29T12:32:00.000-07:00

The Monkey doesn't eat.

Okay, that's a bit drastic. What I meant to say is, he survives on very little. More like water and air.

Okay, exaggerating again.

He will only eat a few things. God help you if you try and get him to eat something he doesn't like or has never even tried before. When he does eat, it takes forever.

Hubby blames me for his pickiness, but I only cook what I like so it's not like he can see me refusing to eat something. So, where is he learning it from?

I know this is supposed to be some sort of weird, cosmic, karma. But really, I know how picky I am, I don't need to be reminded of how annoying it is to others by giving me the pickiest child on the planet. Anyway, if I'm so incredibly picky why won't he eat what I've got on my plate?

I say it's genetic.

Hubby will eat anything you put in front of him - as long as it's not liver, or has nuts in it (for some reason he counts coconuts - why?).

I've always been a picky eater. The evil people who raised me always used to make fun of how picky I was (fun times) - they, like Hubby, will eat anything. So, where did I learn it from? Again, I'm resorting to genetics.

I didn't come up with this conclusion until a year and a half ago when I was in Kansas visiting with my biological mother. The first night we were there we went out to eat at a Mexican restaurant. My biological mother ordered first. What Hubby and I heard was enough to have us both laughing as silently as possible behind our menu's. It was like listening to something I would order..."I would like this, but could I have it with this instead of that, with some extra of that other thing on the side?". Just picture Meg Ryan's character in When Harry Met Sally, and that's what it was like (erm, what I'm like). It was very comical.

Great! Now I know why the Monkey and I are they way we are when it comes to food. Unfortunately, it doesn't help with the nightly battles we have over what he is going to eat.

Here is the complete list of what he will willingly eat without a fight:

Cheese tortellini in alfredo sauce
Mac 'n Cheese (Kraft or Annie's, definitely not homemade)
Spaghetti with meat sauce (just my homemade meat sauce, forget about taking him out to eat anywhere else and ordering that)
Plain spaghetti with butter & parmesan cheese
Peanut butter and honey sandwiches (cut into quarters) - He's better than me here, he doesn't care what kind of bread his sandwiches are made on as long as it doesn't have twigs (his word - I think it's intended to describe multigrain type breads)
Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (cut into quarters)
Cheese sandwiches (that's it, just cheese. No mayo, butter, or god forbid we offer to grill it. Just plain please).
Fish sticks
Pizza (maybe - depends on the kind)
Cheese Bread (pizza dough with cheese)
Oatmeal (instant maple flavored - that's it)
Most sugary children's cereal
Ice Cream (any and all kinds)
McDonald's Cheeseburgers (without anything else on it)
Apples (peeled & cut-up)
Yogurt
Most puddings
Chicken nuggets/chicken fingers
Taquito's
Scrambled eggs
Pancakes, preferably chocolate chip

That's it. No veggies, no fruit. He adores milk, and would have buckets of that for dinner if we let him.

We might be able to convince him (with some bribing) to eat:

Taco's - don't be fooled with this one. He won't eat taco's put together like taco's. Everything has to be separate. So he has to eat a bite of meat (seasoned ground beef), a bite of cheese, a (miniscule) bite of lettuce, a bite of taco (flour or corn, he doesn't mind)
Green beans - this really depends on what's for dessert.
Bacon

He will not, under any circumstances, eat anything made out of potato's. He also will not eat, no matter what you bribe him with, hot dogs. What kid doesn't eat fries or hot dogs? Mine.

Some nights, when we don't feel like fighting, he'll go to bed without dinner. Not because we want to punish him, but because it's his choice on whether or not he wants to eat what is in front of him. Other nights, when we don't feel like fighting, I'll make something that I know he loves just to avoid the conflict. Hubby and I refuse to make a separate meal for him, and maybe that's what we're doing wrong.

I don't want to jinx it, but so far the Chipmunk is doing much better (and faster) than his brother. He'll eat any food we put in his mouth as long as it's pureed to an itty, bitty pulp. I'm hoping it continues this way - the eating whatever we put in front of him, not the pureeing to the itty bitty pulpiness. I guess he takes after Hubby. Now, if the Chipmunk doesn't want a bottle at the exact moment you are offering it to him, that's a different story.

So, what am I supposed to do about the Monkey. I want to be able to put something in front of him and be done. If he eats it, great! If not, it doesn't matter. But it does matter. If he doesn't eat he starts misbehaving. I don't want to have to bribe him to eat. It's so frustrating. Hubby isn't helping either. He'll start yelling at the Monkey if he doesn't do what he wants him to do. I don't like that approach either.

Any suggestions?

I need to vent

2009-01-06T13:18:00.001-07:00

I understand that if I were still breastfeeding the Chipmunk then feeding him would be solely my responsibility (well, mine and daycare lady). However, the Chipmunk had only ever gone three or four days in a row without any supplementation whatsoever. That means that he's been taking a bottle pretty much since the day he was born. This also means that giving him a bottle and washing that bottle could have been performed by someone else.

Don't get me wrong, I love the quiet times we get together when I feed him. I've come to enjoy the fact that I'm the only one in our household that he will eat for (well, maybe not so much at 3am since he's still not consistently sleeping through the night - bygones). But, why does that mean that since I'm the only one that he'll eat for I should be the only one washing the bottles? Granted, it's a tedious task. But, it only takes 15 minutes - max.

Hubby will wash the bottles - if I ask him to, and even then he'll normally find one way or another to get out of it (even though I normally only ask him to wash them once or twice a week). But why do I even have to ask him to do it? He knows how many bottles we have. He knows (roughly) how many bottles are needed for one 24 hour period. Shouldn't it be self-explanatory that the bottles will need to be washed nightly?

Last night I was working on reconciling our bank account while he tried to find something to watch on TV. After I had spent almost an hour doing what I needed to do on the computer, he was lazing around on the bed still trying to find something to watch on TV. Also, before I had started working on our bank records I had bathed, fed, and put the Chipmunk to bed. When I asked him if he had washed the bottles yet, his reply was that there was still one more left.

What happens after that bottle is used in the middle of the night and we (ahem - I) need a clean one for first thing in the morning and four more clean ones to take to daycare? Is it just me, or does it seem like it would be easier to get the cleaning of the bottles done while we would normally be awake anyway than to get up early to wash them? Should I just accept this as my fate for another five months and not try to change my husband?

I won't even get started about how I appear to be the only one who knows where the Chipmunk's dresser is - you know, for putting away clean clothes.

Gah!

St. Thomas

2009-01-05T13:17:00.004-07:00

The trip to St. Thomas went well, all things considered.

It started out rough, but at least that only gave us the ability to improve from there!

We had to be at the airport by 5am on 11/21. We hadn't started packing until 6pm, 11/20.

After a whirlwind of packing, we were finally in bed by 10:30. Since we were so wound up, I didn't fall asleep right away. So, when the Chipmunk woke up at 11pm I was actually thankful that it had happened then, making me think that I wouldn't have to wake up to feed him at some ghastly time of night before we had to wake up at 3:30. Hah hah hah hah....

The Chipmunk finished his bottle and then went straight back to sleep...ahhhhh...for an hour. After that was fuss city. So, I got about 20 minutes of sleep before fuss-fest 2008 started. At about 3am I finally woke Hubby up to deal with the fussy Chipmunk who REFUSED TO SLEEP. Granted, the Chipmunk is hit or miss when it comes to sleeping through the night, but at least he goes straight back to sleep without problems...normally. He must have known something was going on. Anyway, I managed to get another 20 minutes of sleep before I had to wake up and to get ready to go. We woke the Monkey up at 4am to get him ready for when the taxi arrived to take us to the airport.

The taxi was scheduled to arrive at 4:30.

At 4:35 the taxi was still nowhere to be seen.

I called the taxi company, where I was politely told that they were having trouble finding a minivan (all of our stuff and bodies would not have fit into a regular sized taxi).

No problem, I said. Just send two regular sized taxi's but only charge us for one (don't I think quick for someone without any sleep at 4:30 in the morning).

No can do, taxi company said. But, we can get a minivan there in 5 minutes.

Tick Tick tick tick.

5 minutes passed. No minivan. Called taxi company again. It'll be at our house in 2 minutes, but it's not a minivan...doh!

So, I told them to forget about it and we took ourselves to the airport. The reason we wanted to take a taxi was because of the amount of stuff we were taking and getting that stuff into the airport from our parked (in long-term parking) car was going to be near impossible with only two adults, a sleepy 5 year old, and a sleeping in his infant car seat baby.

I say near impossible, but as it turned out it was quite possible. With the help of some guy on his way home from a business trip (thank you thank you).

Anyway, we arrived in the airport huffing and puffing after walking from long-term parking with all of our crap at 5:20. We wait...and wait...for our turn to check in.

After checking in, I run to the security line with the Monkey and the Chipmunk while Hubby is still loading our bags to be weighed.

Security takes forever, but this ok, since now we only have to wait for our group of seats to be called to board...silver lining, right?

At this point the Monkey hasn't had any breakfast (neither have his parents) and the Chipmunk hasn't had anything since that 11pm bottle.

We have no time to get the Monkey fed, but I do have time to get some bottled water to make the Chipmunk's bottle with once we get on the plane.

It turns out that I shouldn't have bothered with the water. The Chipmunk refused to eat anything the whole day.

Oh yeah, did I mention that we were traveling for 18 hours and had to take three planes? Fun times. At least all of our planes left on time and our luggage made it to St. Thomas...see, silver lining.

So, after 18 hours of traveling, after being up all night, with a baby who refused to eat a drop I was exhausted.

Thankfully, Nanny and Pop (Hubby's parent's) were at the airport waiting for us. It was such a relief when we finally got there. And, like I said, things just got better from there.

The reason for going to St. Thomas was for my brother-in-law's wedding, the day before Thanksgiving. The stars must have aligned properly by then because things went perfectly where the Chipmunk was concerned.

After breakfast I think I fed the Chipmunk and then we all went to the beach. Hubby or I played with one or the other of the boy's. Nanny came by and offered to take the Chipmunk for a walk to see if he would take a nap - yes please Nanny. That worked out while Hubby and I took the Monkey for some lunch. After a pretty long lunch we headed back to our spot where the Chipmunk was waking up from his nap, which was good since it was time to get back to the hotel to start getting ready for the wedding.

After feeding the Chipmunk some more he went down for a 3 hour nap!

While the Chipmunk was sleeping, the Monkey played quietly (again, stars aligning) with lego's on his bed and the Hubby and I got ready for the wedding.

15 minutes before we were supposed to the leave for the wedding location, the Chipmunk was still sleeping (!). I woke him up, fed him, changed him, and put him in the car at the precise time we were supposed to be leaving...like I said, the stars aligned.

The wedding went off without too many problems, the main concern being that no sounds were made by my well rested, well fed Chipmunk.

I guess it could have been worse. The trip out to St. Thomas could have gone perfectly and the day of the wedding could have been a disaster. Thankfully, the trip home from St. Thomas actually did go perfectly. The Chipmunk ate 7 ounces every three hours on the dot and slept the entire flight from Dallas to home (on me).

Ahh, if only every day could be that perfect.

New Year's Quiz

2008-12-30T19:03:00.010-07:00

Linda has asked that we all take part in this quiz. I haven't done it before, but here you go:

1. What did you do in 2008 that you’d never done before?

Aside from taking this quiz? Had a c-section.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I didn't make any resolutions. Normally it's to get in better shape, but at this time last year I was just trying to enjoy my last pregnancy.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Aside from myself? No

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Not sure, does my husband's grandfather count?

5. What countries did you visit?

St. Thomas - yeah I know it's technically part of the U.S., but they drive on the other side of the road for pete's sake!

6. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?

Sleep

7. What dates from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

June 1st, the day my second son was born.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Getting promoted, while on maternity leave.

9. What was your biggest failure?

Breastfeeding

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Uh, aside from the c-section? Thankfully not.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

Plane tickets to St. Thomas

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

My husband's - I would not have made it through the fiasco with my parents without him.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

My parents

14. Where did most of your money go?

Mortgages, then daycare

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Duh - the new baby! Oh yeah, and the new guy we have for president.

16. What song will always remind you of 2008?

I have no idea, I don't really listen to much music.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:a) happier or sadder?b) thinner or fatter?c) richer or poorer?

a)a little sadder (the parent situation)

b)the same

c)the same - surprisingly. Thankfully, the promotion took care of the added daycare costs.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Excercise

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Bottle washing

20. How did you spend Christmas?

At home, with my three boys - hubby, the monkey, & the chipmunk

21. Did you fall in love in 2008?

Absolutely - wouldn't you have fallen in love with these two guys?

22. What was your favorite TV program?

So You Think You Can Dance?

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

I don't know if I would call it hate, but I have a strong dislike for the two people who raised me.

24. What was the best book you read?

I've only read fluff this year

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?

Does the Yahoo customizable radio station count?

26. What did you want and get?

A Roomba

27. What did you want and not get?

More time to sleep

28. What was your favorite film of this year?

I saw I Am Legend this year

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I turned 31 this year. I went to work.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Having breastfeeding work out

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008?

Pregnant, and then sleep deprivation.

32. What kept you sane?

My DVR

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Barack Obama

34. What political issue stirred you the most?

Isn't that obvious?

35. Who did you miss?

Quite a few people

36. Who was the best new person you met?

The Chipmunk

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008.

That I've gotta take care of me first.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

Help by the Beatles - the entire song

Now it's your turn. I especially want to hear what you & you have to say

Thinking

2008-11-15T11:30:00.004-07:00

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about how thankful I am that the baby turned out to be a boy (much to everyones surprise in the operating room*). I wouldn't even have the slightest idea how to raise a girl (not that I know what I'm doing with the boys, all I can say here is I am definitely not a girly-girl). And it's not like the relationship with the woman who raised me leaves me with the warm and fuzzies, so the thought of not having to deal with the mother-daughter dynamic is quite relieving - although I would have loved a girl as much as I love the boys that I have, I would have been terrified of the outcome (Mr. Lady says it better than I can).

However, I'm not the only one that only has the y chromosomes to deal with.

Linda has been lamenting the presence of so many pensises, and Mrs. Glamore has more than opened my eyes to what life with the boys will be like when they get older (omg, Hubby and I have got to relax if we're going to come close to dealing with what's been thrown her way with anywhere near half the grace that she has).

In fact, it looks like Julie, Linda, Mrs. Glamore, and myself should start a support group or something. I mean, we're tasked with raising men! Nice, considerate men who might some day grow up to be your daughters husbands (if that's what they're into, that is) - what have I gotten myself into?

Wait a minute! Who said my kids were going to be allowed to have sex?

On second thought, maybe I should have stuck witht he four legged variety of children - at least I was able to get them "fixed". I don't think I'm allowed to do the same to my boys - darn it!

*we didn't find out what the baby was before it was born. Hubby was convinced it was a girl because he saw the ultrasound tech write the letter f (for female?) on the screen before turning it away from him. I was convinced it was a girl because the pregnancy was so very different from my first. I should have know better though - the next door neighbor has five girls, the law of averages was against us from the word go.

PSA - Insuring the kids

2008-11-10T15:43:00.005-07:00

We had our insurance agent over a few days ago to go over our life insurance policies. We've known for quite some time that we don't have enough, but didn't really have the energy or the money to anything about it.

We've had an insurance policy for the Monkey since he was about six months old. The reason for insuring the Monkey is not a morbid one, but a practical one. At the time that we started the policy I knew nothing about my biological health background, but we knew what Hubby's past could tell us.

Hubby has really bad asthma. One of his grandmothers died of cancer. One of his grandfathers died from heart problems. Forgetting about what my side of the family had to offer, the future of possible problems did not look good. Based on the information we had garnered, it would be extremely easy (and cheap) for the Monkey to increase the policy we purchased for him as an infant than for him to start one of his own should any of the above become a factor for him. So that's what we did.

Since the Monkey had a policy of his own, it was only right to get one for the Chipmunk. While were at it, we may as well see about increasing our own policies.

We went over what we would absolutely need and what we would like. We got quotes for all four of us. Then, the insurance agent (who is actually our neighbor, good friend, and father to our babysitter) informed us that for a mere $5 a month added to both mine and my husbands policy we could insure both of the kids for about the same amount as we would have insured them for individually - this worked out to be much less than had we decided to get them individual policies.

Why weren't we told about this when the Monkey was a baby?

Probably because insurance agents are greedy and don't want to divulge this information (we had not yet met our current agent/friend/neighbor).

So, consider this my gift to you.

If you have children (or will have children in the future) and your own insurance policies, you can add all of your children to your policies (they call it a rider (sp?)) for a fraction of the cost of getting them their own policies.

You're welcome.

Not So Doomed Afterall

2008-11-10T10:37:00.007-07:00

So, it seems my vote did count for something. I was astounded to see that my very conservative state went to Barack Obama, even though my county did not (not a huge surprise to me).

Also, although changing the temperature of the Chipmunk's bottle was a little painful in the lack of sleep area, things seem to be getting back to normal now. He still hates it when I've left the bottle of water to mix his formula with out overnight, but that seems to have worked in my favor.

The temperature in the house drops overnight, therefore the temperature in the water left out for his bottle drops overnight. He woke up a few nights when he wasn't eating enough during the day due to the change in protocol, but then he realized that the formula was even colder. I think he decided that it just wasn't worth it to him to wake up for a really cold bottle. He would take a few sips and realize his error and then insist on going back to sleep. Now, he's slept through the night the last two nights (if you count only waking up this morning at 4:30 as sleeping through the night - it's early, but I'm counting it). I hope things continue this way, because for a week or so of torture with him refusing to eat every now and then things are getting better (and he seems to be getting heavier).

Now I just have to work on introducing him to real food. Wish me luck!

Doomed

2008-10-29T14:36:00.009-06:00

I must be psychotic or something. It's either that or I can't leave good enough alone. I mean, why else would I have responded to the Chipmunk sleeping through the night twice last week by pissing him off with cold formula?

You see, we're going to St. Thomas in a few weeks. We've been preparing Chipmunk's bottles with warmer than warm tap water since he was about four weeks old - even though we had sworn to ourselves that we wouldn't do that if we ever had another child who needed to have formula when the Monkey was a baby. The Monkey liked his bottles scalding hot - which, by the way, is a pain in the ass when you leave the house and his bottles were made ahead of time with boiled water (yeah, we've thrown caution to the wind this time around - doesn't the second child always get the shaft? We're even using generic formula (gasp!)).

Anyway, we thought that using warmer than warm tap water would be ok since that would be available whereever we went. We've known since before the Chipmunk was born that we would be going to St. Thomas next month, I guess we just never thought that the tap water there would not be drinkable (at least that's what we've been told). So, to avoid a miserable vacation with him refusing to eat (which might happen anyway), we started giving him room temperature bottles this past weekend since we will be using bottled water to prepare his bottles while in St. Thomas. We don't want to use a bottle warmer - which was how we got the Monkey's bottles so scalding hot - because of the whole BPA issue.

To say the Chipmunk doesn't like them is an understatement - he is more than pissed. He went fourteen and a half hours on Sunday without a drop. He woke up four or five times last night (I lost count) and refused to eat anything except for one of those times.

Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, I'm the only one in this house that he'll let feed him so I don't get to share the sleep deprivation with Hubby.

I know if we keep at it he should eventually get used to it - right? At least that's what I need to keep telling myself. Otherwise, we're doomed.

***

Unrelated - I voted today. Unfortunately, Ted Haggard was right in front of me. I'm pretty confident we cancelled out each others votes. This wouldn't be so bad, except he brought his entire family that is of voting age with him. I'm guessing his family voted similar to him.

Yep, we're doomed.

Hubby's last letter

2008-10-26T09:43:00.009-06:00

Doormat

First, let me say thank you for your reply, however there are some things I feel I must say in response. Maybe I will even enlighten you to some facts.Second. I want to make this absolutely clear. These are solely my views and opinions. I do NOT speak for Swiggy.

I don't much care what you two think of me, it has been quite apparent from the beginning that you have never liked me - at least The Witch hasn't, and I suspect that opinion will diminish further after you read this. Perhaps this is because I have helped Swiggy to not be afraid of her mother. My only regret is that I did not make my voice clearer to you several years ago.

Your money has never been a concern for us. Certainly I have never been entitled to a penny. It is, and always will be, yours to do with what you want. Maybe you do not understand this as you have money, but while you were here the Doormat kept asking why Swiggy was so intent on breastfeeding - money is a big factor - formula is expensive. However, it is also because breast milk is best for the baby, as well as the added benefit that breastfeeding aids the mothers recovery. The Witch kept asking why Swiggy is not going to be taking more time off of work. The answer there is two-fold. Money, and she has a boss and is only allowed so much time off of work. These facts have been expressed, even before you came, yet you are still both unable to grasp the reality that most people live in.

Since you brought up money I think it is worth making you aware of the following. My parents very generously, without needing to be asked, re-mortgaged their home to help us out of a financial mess some years ago. We still owe them a considerable sum. Swiggy had asked The Witch for help. The Witch refused and said "Life is supposed to be hard at your age". Doesn't that just epitomize "a most loving and generous person"? So no surprises that Swiggy is not getting anything once The Witch passes. Strange how I never heard any stories about The Jerk being made to suffer, or how his life was ever supposed to be hard. I guess you forgot to tell me those ones.

Besides, we were under the impression Swiggy had been written out of the will several years ago anyway. The Witch had told us as much.

Swiggy never expected money from you. All she ever wanted, indeed still wants, is for you to give her some love, attention and affection - unfortunately The Jerk got all of the above, and he also got the financial aid.

I think giving your money to charity is a great idea. Might I make a suggestion as to which one? Should Swiggy not be able to breast-feed The Chipmunk, and that is looking increasingly likely thanks in no small part to the added stress you have put on her since your unusual departure, I will need a second, maybe third, job. Formula is not cheap. We are OK with this. We got ourselves into this financial quagmire, and, with the help of friends and my family, we will get ourselves out. It just means that myself, The Monkey and The Chipmunk will continue shopping at Goodwill and Swiggy will not buy any new clothes for the fourth year in a row. If only she had some "compassionate, loving and generous" family members to assist. Sorry, I digress. Do not make Goodwill your charity lest Swiggy actually benefit. Perhaps the Humane Society would be a good choice. The Witch always has liked animals. Perhaps that is because they will not talk back to her.

It is you who is mistaken as to who initiated your leaving. After The Witch shouted at The Monkey,(Personally I think that is her new low spot, (I will get to some more later) and an apology for that is needed, but it does give me an insight into Swiggys' childhood) and I told The Witch to "Leave him out of it as he is only Five, or else I will get involved" she promptly stood up and said " That is it, we are leaving, I am not taking any more of this" She proceeded to the bathroom, and you went downstairs to pack. So I suppose, technically, it was my doing that led to your leaving. (Unsurprisingly yours and The Witchs recollection are of course different) What happened in the basement after wards may very well fit your description of events, but It was 100% The Witchs' comment that put you on the path you followed. The Witch never has been able to take criticism from me - perhaps that is because I do not yield to bullies.

Even though The Monkey was crying and would not shake your hand (He is Five remember and was very confused) he does remember you saying goodbye to him and we both remember you waving from the car. I guess the stress of being shouted at by his Grandmother was too much for his little heart to handle. Can you blame him? You should both know that he sobbed when you left. He did not want you to leave. Did you hear The Witchs' first words when she saw The Monkey? "He is quiet, that is good." Little boys should be seen and not heard I suppose.

I take it from your statement that The Witch was "still stunned" when you left that you did not hear what she said to me while I was emptying your car:

The Witch - "I am sorry I never had children"

Hubby - "What do you mean? You have Two"

The Witch - "No I don't, I don't know what that monster upstairs is"

What a very compassionate, loving and generous mother The Witch is! I doubt she will admit to that statement either.

Even if The Witch was stunned, she still, after calming down, could have returned and apologized ... now I see the error in my thought process. Apologize. The Witch. Nope. Prove me wrong. All she had to do was to say "Sorry" But I doubt she is capable of that emotion either. I have NEVER heard her say, or express in any way, that she has had any remorse for any of her actions. Ever. Prove me wrong.

It takes two to tango. Certainly there have been errors on our part, but I doubt The Witch would admit her errors. She certainly has never accepted an apology from Swiggy. You may recall she refused flowers Swiggy once sent as an apology. In her mind, The Witch can do no wrong. The mind of a delusioned, narcissistic individual for sure.

If you truly feel that the incident at the restaurant was "a strain" then you have a very low tolerance. As I mentioned in my earlier letter, perhaps a bit of compassion and empathy for a woman recovering from surgery and severe sleep deprivation should have been considered. And of course her hormones are all over the place right now.

Swiggy was simply asking a question as to whether The Witch had decided to consciously eat ice-cream instead of eating dinner. Nothing more, nothing less. Personally, I was a little upset as I really thought you would both have enjoyed eating at one of our favorite restaurants. So sorry if you read more into it than that.

I am actually surprised your tolerance is so low. I would have thought listening to The Witch's shrills (I have heard them many times myself) you would be thicker skinned. Perhaps that is why you won't install Air Conditioning in your office so that The Witch won't, and I quote, "Pester me!" Seems like a double standard to me.

What other "strains" do you refer to? With the exception of the obvious travelling and altitude you had to endure, we both have admitted the trip went well - up until the end.

I wonder if The Witch is jealous of Swiggy as she was unable to reproduce?

How can The Witch even begin to believe she is a good Mother? For that matter, how can you believe that The Witch is a good Mother. There are many more events that I have witnessed over the past 15 years that I could elaborate on to emphasize the point, but I don't need to. The only needed proof that she is a lousy mother is clear. If you deny everything else in this letter (and I am sure The Witch can manipulate the truth to make that the case), the following you cannot deny.

A good, or even mediocre, mother would not flat deny the possibility that an admitted molester could have done what he did to Swiggy. It is despicable. I had always held some hope that her view would change. I was naive. I semi-applaud you, Doormat, as you had always made it clear that you did not dis-believe Swiggy. But not The Witch. Never. Ever. It is now clear why she is good at forgiving the prodigal son - he can apparently do no-wrong. You should know that that breaks Swiggys' heart every single day.

The Witch didn't like being shouted at! Maybe she should try being molested and then being called a liar for it for 20 plus years. That is a wound that will never heal. Excuse us if we don't give The Witch pity.

Surely you figured that out by yourselves? Any decent parent would have.

DO NOT ATTEMPT TO TELL ME SHE IS A LOVING MOTHER. SHE IS NOT.

You talk of Swiggys' lack of compassion. First you are mistaken, she is extremely compassionate to those who deserve it. But even if you are correct, read those last few paragraphs again and then show me the woman who erred the greatest. And then wonder where Swiggy learned her so called lack of compassion from.

The Witch does not get Swiggy's respect simply because she is her Mother. She has to earn that respect. Does she even know Swiggy's birthday, age, or wedding anniversary? Any time she has been asked in the past she has gotten it wrong. What a loving Mother! That is the tip of a very deep iceberg. These may not seem important to you, but they are to Swiggy.

Not being there for some important and pivotal events in Swiggy's life is not the road to respect. Perhaps that is why Swiggy was not there for The Witch following her stroke. What is good for the Goose is good for the Gander. Perhaps The Witch now knows what it is like when the shoe is on the other foot. You will of course remember that we both bent over backwards to help out following your broken neck incident. Need I mention again The Witchs continued denial of Swiggy being molested. What a wonderful example of compassion. The Witch again leading by example. If you think Swiggy's behavior is worse than that, then you are both more shallow than even I thought possible.

In case you didn't know, a very big reason for us attempting to move to the East Coast 6 years ago was so that our children (if at that point we were to have any) would have at least one set of grandparents nearby. Swiggy always hoped her children would be treated better by you than she was. You may also have guessed that while you were here we were fishing to see if you two might consider retiring to Colorado for the same reason - you would have acclimated to the altitude given time. But now, I do not want to have my children go through the torments that Swiggy has gone through. Nothing they do will be good enough, no apology will ever be accepted, I will not have them spoken to in the same tone Swiggy is, I do not want to have to fix their hearts when they are broken as I have had to with Swiggy at least a dozen times, I could go on.

Rest assured that if I have my way The Witch will not see her Grandchildren again. I will not allow it. Unless, of course, she can admit that she has made some terrible errors, is completely sorry, and begs Swiggy for her forgiveness. And even then I will need convincing.

The door is slightly ajar for you, Doormat.

Unfortunately We now need to think of a way to tell The Monkey and The Chipmunk why they likely cannot see their grandparents who live in the same country. Ironically we will try to put a positive spin on it. I wonder if The Witch would have been so generous? Maybe we will say you are too busy with The Jerk to pay them any attention, that is after all what happened with Swiggy. Even E will admit that. Will you? And if so, you shouldn't be surprised of her feelings towards you.

Doormat, you have said to me over the years a few times that The Witch does love Swiggy. Funny how I have never heard her say that to me. Nor have I heard her tell Swiggy that. Moreover, even if she has said it, simply saying it is not enough, actions speak louder than words, and The Witch's actions have spoken volumes, but not in a good way. If only The Witch was half as good with her actions and emotions as she clearly is with her writing. She certainly has earned her respect in that field.

Let me clarify some of the "Low spots" you both seem bewildered about. When Swiggy talks of a low spot I believe she is referring to actions that are most un-parent like. Things that you should be sorry for and possibly ashamed of, but are not. Perhaps because to you they do not seem wrong.

At the top of my list is the aforementioned grandmother shouting at her 5 year old grandchild incident.
Not believing in any shape or form that Swiggy was molested, and then thinking that she lied about it.
Not attending her High School graduation on the promise you would attend her College graduation.
Not attending her College graduation because "Those things are not important to us" This seems selfish, and I expect inaccurate as I am sure you would have gone had it been the U of C. And if not that is still simply selfish.
Not getting on a plane and coming to see us when you were already at the airport. You didn't even wait another 10 minutes to see if the airline resolved the problem (which it had). Again you broke her heart.
When we drove to Chicago (my idea, as Swiggy was sobbing in the airport, afraid you would not get to see The Monkey) we were quite obviously made to feel un-welcome by The Witch. And then The Witch got mad at a then three year old Monkey for chasing the cat, The Witch responded by saying " I hope he gets scratched!" We spent the visit counting the days till we could leave. We didn't cry off on the next plane home as we wanted The Monkey to see his Grandparents.
The Witch refusing the apology and flowers Swiggy sent her.
The Witch refusing to EVER accept ANY of Swiggy's apologies.
Getting mad at Swiggy after The Monkey was born for not driving down to where you live by herself to see you. Swiggy was still recovering from the birth. I did not want Swiggy to drive that far in her weakened state - and neither should you have. We could have come on a weekend, but The Witch did not want me to come.
Not seeing The Monkey until he was over a year old when you lived only 3 hours away. That one still kills Swiggy.
Thinking that Swiggy was simply "having fun" when my mother came to help for the first few weeks of The Monkey's life, and then conveniently forgetting that we had given you the choice as to when you wanted to come visit as my parents had to make travel plans.
Not realising, still, that we have regular M-F 9-5 jobs and cannot simply go wherever we want, whenever we want. We both have superiors to report too.
This next one is tricky as It involves our wedding. Which was in a beautiful setting. But it was marred by the fact that following Swiggy being told she could only invite so many people, which was fair since you were paying, to then find out there were a bunch of people at the wedding that The Witch had invited, some of whom we didn't even know! Even on Swiggys' special day The Witch was basically saying look at me, look what I have done. We have always said that one day we will get married again, and invite who WE want. Even if Swiggy had been asked about these additions there would have been no point her expressing her resentment.
Not putting E on the top table at our wedding. I was embarrassed for her.
Any time The Witch wants one of her "special chats" privately with Swiggy and then gives her dietary advice. The very last person anyone should take dietary advice from is The Witch - ice cream for dinner and cookies for breakfast, again leading by example.

Having listed those points I have no idea why Swiggy keeps coming back for more punishment. She is stronger than even I give her credit for. Perhaps she hopes that one day you will change, admit your errors, and start loving her with your actions. Starting with the molestation would be a good place to begin.

I would expect there are many, many more examples that Swiggy has, but they are some of mine. Do you now see some of the low spots? Do you yet blame yourselves, in any form, for the way Swiggy treats you? I doubt it. I expect you still think The Witch is compassionate, loving and generous. Simply saying it does not make it so.

Doormat, I wish you well in the future and hope that The Witch continues to make pointless online purchases to fill the empty void in her heart.

I absolutely understand you protecting The Witch, but I am at a complete loss as to why you defend her so heavily. Maybe you are blinded to the true horrors, simply don't care, are easily manipulated or something else. Whatever your reasons, of which I have no interest in knowing, I truly hope you feel you are making the right decisions with regards to your daughter, and that you can be at peace with those decisions.

As far as I am concerned my relationship with The Witch has ended. I want nothing more to do with her until she is mature enough to admit her shortcomings, apologize to her grandchild and starts treating her daughter the way she deserves to be treated. That will probably please her as she no longer needs to deal with me. She has also said in the past that she will not change. So I am not holding my breath.

If Swiggy wishes to continue her relationship with her parents then I will not stand in her way. She is a grown woman capable of making her own decisions. I just hope that you and The Witch do not hold my words against Swiggy.

You will also notice that I am sending you this email from my personal account and not from our joint account. This is so that I do not hurt Swiggy any more than she already has been. I did NOT tell Swiggy that her "compassionate, loving and generous mother" called her a Monster. The ball is in your court now. I emplore you to do the right thing.

As I said at the beginning these are my views, I do not speak for Swiggy. Hate me, not Swiggy.

Hubby

PS I have an idea for The Witchs' new book. A woman who kills people by continuosly breaking their heart. She could make it her autobiography. Will there be a happy ending ...

Some of the letters

2008-10-26T09:15:00.013-06:00

The following are the letters that were sent by Hubby after my parents stormed out of here a few months ago (names changed, go here for reference).

Doormat and Witch,

We hope you had a safe trip home.

First let me say that, with the obvious exception of the final act, we did enjoy your visit with us.

It was absolutely wonderful to see you interacting with the Monkey and the Chipmunk. Hopefully you enjoyed it too. I know the Monkey enjoyed it as he is still talking about the fun he had playing on his laptop with you Witch, although he is a little upset that you didn't say goodbye. I was pleasantly surprised, and am happy to admit, any reservations I may have had for your visit were unfounded.

I felt that some important bridges were being built between you and Swiggy, and certainly that was needed following the tulmultuous history you have had.

So let me get to the final act. What happened?

I find it very hard to believe that your leaving was based solely on the shouting incident. I am sure you have both experienced surgical pain and lack of sleep. I am sure you have both experienced the resulting loss of normality that comes with such traumas. I cannot believe that you had no compassion or empathy with what Swiggy has been going through these last few weeks (but perhaps I am wrong). As a result I am a little confused as to why you did not accept her very heartfelt apology.

I am therefore left to believe that something must have happened whilst I was at work to sow-the-seed for this most unusual ending to an otherwise great visit.

I would very much like to know what event that could have been, and look forward to hearing your side of the story.

Hubby

Obviously, he was blowing smoke up their asses to try and appease them and not put them on the defensive. At least, that's the only reason I can some up with as to why he was so nice to them in this first email.

The response from my parents wasn't as nice, but it wasn't too bad either.

I received your reasonable letter, most of which I agreed with. There is much, however, that was left out. I will try to correct that, as well as misconceptions Swiggy offered in her phone conversation Friday night.

Despite my original misgivings about the strain of such a long trip and the effects of the altitude (I had underestimated the latter), I thought it was a successful visit. We certainly, with patience and tolerance, sought to make it so. But there were increasing strains. I know I lost my temper at the restaurant when Swiggy asked me why The Witch was not ordering a meal (she had eaten ice cream an hour earlier), and Swiggy wanted to know if The Witch had done this "intentionally," as if Swiggy thought The Witch was purposely trying to ruin Swiggy's concept of a family dinner. I replied intemperately (for me) and asked Swiggy, "What's it to you?"

There were other strains, but the shouting over getting lost and Swiggy's sarcastic "apology" were the last straw for me. Swiggy was wrong to think that The Witch made the decision to leave. You may recall that I told you that we were leaving. At that time, The Witch was in the bathroom. She and I had not discussed this move. When she was told that I was downstairs, she called down to ask what I was doing and she was surprised when I said "Packing." She did not reject my decision. I think that she was in a state of shock. I have no doubt that this accounts for her stunned departure without saying goodby to the Monkey, who was crying in the bathroom, having refused to kiss me goodby or to shake my hand. The Witch says that when we got in the car, she did wave goodby to the Monkey.

I may have been wrong, but I saw nothing good and everything bad coming from a situation that had become intolerable to all concerned. I believed that a line had to be drawn against utterly unacceptable behavior on the part of a daughter towards her mother. Just as you feel that you must protect Swiggy, I feel the same way about The Witch. I feel bad about my decision, but I know I did the right thing.

I hope this will clarify for you and expecially for Swiggy the course of events.

Some things Swiggy said cannot be forgotten--particularly her telling The Witch that leaving without saying goodby was "a new low even for you." What "lows"? The Witch is a most loving and generous person. Swiggy's denial of these facts and her false view of her own mother's character are most hurtful. The result is that The Witch does not believe that Swiggy loves her or cares about her, and The Witch has never forgotten Swiggy's lack of compassion in not coming to be with her when she had a life-threatening stroke.

Finally, so as not to let money cloud any issues, we have decided that on our death we shall leave our money to charity. I thought you ought to know that these arrangements are being made in the event that knowing this may influence your own decisions.

The Doormat

Aaagh. Where to begin! I guess I'll let Hubby's reply convey how I feel. That will be my next post.

The visit from hell

2008-10-26T09:01:00.008-06:00

I said “I have also been shut out by my aparents (again - more on that another time, maybe) ”.

I’ve decided to share – I’m sure you’ve just been sitting on the edge of your seat for the last month or so, right?

My parents came all the way from Vermont to Colorado two weeks after the baby was born. It was supposed to be three weeks after he was born, but he was a week late. I couldn’t believe that they had actually made it, considering that not two days before they were supposed to leave they called to tell me that they weren’t going to make the trip. Something about The Witch's health … yada yada. As soon as I saw on the caller ID who it was I knew exactly what the phone call was going to be about so I kind of tuned out since I was expecting it anyway.

Even though I knew what the phone call was going to be about, I was still pretty upset that they were flaking on me, again! This would have been the third time that they said (and had actually made flight arrangements) that they were going to visit and then not actually show up. So, imagine my surprise when they called the next day to say that they were going to come. I had actually gotten used to the idea of them not coming (and was somewhat relieved) that I was now upset that they were coming – give me a break, my son wasn’t even two weeks old yet, you try dealing with that type of roller coaster in those conditions.

They were supposed to be here for 6 days. It was like walking on eggshells the moment they arrived (two hours late – The Witch's response to that was “see, I knew the trip was going to be a disaster”. There’s no pleasing her). I tried really hard not to let her picking about this, that, and the other thing get to me. I thought things were going ok. That is, until the afternoon before they were supposed to leave.

As with my first child, nursing with my second child did not go as planned. In fact, it was completely frustrating me. The Witch thought that the best way to support this frustration was to immediately say “why don’t you just forget about it. You weren’t breastfed, and you turned out fine.” Yes, I wasn’t breastfed and I managed to survive. But, I would hardly say that I turned out fine. Hubby is always saying that I’m one of the sickliest (is that even a word?) people he knows. Before I had my tonsils out last year I was always coming down with one thing or another.

After this wonderful support she provided, she then went on to advise me how to use the check that she had given to me as a gift. She wanted me to use the money to take some more time off from work. Yes Mom, that sounds great! Let’s forget about the fact that I’m only allowed to take so much time off from work without losing my job altogether, but the amount she gave would hardly cover a few days off and I was already taking almost three weeks off unpaid. Also, I thought the money was a gift! My response to this “suggestion” was to tell her that I was planning on using it to pay for formula since it wasn’t looking like nursing was going to work out. She took this to mean that if she hadn’t given me the money I was going to let him starve. Come on! Give me a little credit will you. This money just meant that I could use it instead of getting into more debt just to feed our child.

Anyway, as wonderful as this exchange sounds, it isn’t even close to what made it the visit from hell, leading to me never wanting to speak to them again.

The afternoon before they were supposed to leave they went out for a drive to view the beautiful scenery we have here. I told them if they got lost to give me a call and I’d try to help, but could they please please please be home by 4:30? You see, we were supposed to go out to dinner – all of us, including the kids. If my 5 year old does not eat by 5 o’clock he starts to lose his shit and can’t be controlled no matter what we do.

At 4 o’clock they called and asked if they could be a little late – they wanted to drive through one of the gorgeous city parks. I held my tongue and said sure! Even though I had already woken the baby up to feed him before we went out to make sure he was able to sleep through our meal. Also, I knew that the drive to, through, and back from this park was going to take way more than 30 minutes and I would have to feed my 5 year old before we left for the restaurant.

At 5 o’clock they still weren’t back.

They called at 5:30 because they were lost and needed directions.

I was trying to give directions to The Witch and asked her a question about whether she just wanted to us to come and meet them. She didn’t answer. So, I assumed that she wasn’t able to hear me and started yelling into the phone (granted, I probably should not have started yelling, but I was getting annoyed).

She heard the yelling and took this as the biggest insult of all time. How dare I yell at her for no reason (!!!). She started yelling back, in her god awful shrill voice. So, I then started really yelling at her because I couldn’t take it anymore. I was still trying to give directions, but they weren’t following them or paying attention to what direction they had just followed.

Somehow they made it back to the house and I apologized for yelling. The Witch said that she was not going to accept my apology, which made me even angrier. To avoid yelling even more I went upstairs to cool down.

Apparently, while I was up there, my 5 year old told my amother not to yell at me (go, Monkey!). That sent The Witch right over the edge and she snapped at him to not talk to her like that. My husband got involved. One thing led to another, which ended with them storming out of the house with their suitcases.

They left without saying goodbye to either me or their two grandsons.

Hubby sent them a rather polite email essentially asking what the hell happened. A somewhat rude email was returned by The Doormat. After this was received, Hubby fired off another email that ripped them to shreds. After it was received by The Witch she called and left a message saying that if I agree with anything that was written in that letter I could assume that I was no longer part of their family and to not bother contacting them again. Since I approved the content of the letter before it was sent, I haven’t called them. I’m guessing they think I know nothing of the letter because since then I have been receiving copies of it in mine and my husbands joint email account (the only one they know how to reach me at).

The next post shows the progression of the letters.

Cast of Characters

2008-10-26T08:51:00.006-06:00

To avoid any confusion in upcoming posts I'm going to give you a cheatsheet of who's who.

The Witch = my adoptive mother
The Doormat = my adoptive father
Monkey = my five year old son
Chipmunk = my new son (five months next week)
Hubby = my husband (obviously)
Swiggy = myself (it will be obvious why I would need to refer to myself in another post)
Jerk = my adoptive brother
E = someone who was like a mother to me growing up

I think that's all, I'll let you know if any more pop up.

Welcome!

2008-10-26T08:49:00.004-06:00

For those of you who followed me from my old site, welcome. New posts will be up shortly.

Who needs friends anyway?

2008-10-16T11:23:00.001-06:00

I live in a place where making friends is difficult, to say the least. If you don’t belong to a church or are not a stay at home mother (it’s preferable if both apply to you) it’s not likely that you’ll be making any new friends any time soon.

I am what most people around here consider a heathen. And, in their opinion, I will be going straight to hell upon my death. So, no, I do not belong to a church.

I make more than two times what my husband does (which is not very much at all). So, no, I can’t afford to stay home with my kids – as much as I would like to.

With these very dark marks against me, I have very few friends. Add to that the fact that I am extremely shy when I meet new people (to the point that they think that I’m a stuck up snob) and I haven’t been able to make a new friend in a very long time.

So, I tend to cherish the very few friends I do have.

I have two close friends left from my previous, pre-married life. I love them both, but I don’t get to see either of them since I live two thousand miles away.

I really only have one close local friend, or at least I thought I did.

I feel like she is purposely trying to get me out of her life. She’s never been the one to make the initial contact and I just thought it was because she was so busy. Every time I would call her to make plans or just to talk she would respond with “oh, I was just about to call you”. I didn’t realize how annoying this was until one of the calls I made a few months ago.

She’s a stay at home mother. I was on maternity leave for the whole summer. Not once did she call me to see how I was doing. Even though this was extremely hurtful to me, a week before I was scheduled to go back to work I called her with the intention of asking her to go to lunch with me. I knew all of her kids would be in school and I wouldn’t have another opportunity to do such a thing once I did go back to work full-time. Before I even got a chance to ask her she gave me her normal response of “oh, I was just about to call you”. But then, her husband came home for some reason or another and she said that she had to go but that she would call me back later on that day. That call never came.

I called and left a few messages, but never heard anything back until I received an email from her inviting me to one of her friends’ baby showers. Emails were exchanged, and somehow plans were made for us to go see a movie. I left it up to her to let me know when would be good for her since she seemed far busier than me. She never got back to me.

The last time I heard from her was in another email inviting my family (along with a few others) to her husbands 35th birthday get together. We couldn’t attend, nor did I want to at this point.

In addition to her being a stay at home mother, she and her family are ultra religious. I wouldn’t say that they are zealots or anything, but I’m beginning to think that these differences are too much for her to get over. Because without them I couldn’t understand why she would be acting like this. I don’t think that I’ve done anything to make her want to get me out of her life, but then again I could be wrong. Although, I hope I would remember being so awful to a person that they don’t want to be around me.

I’m beginning to resent being the one to initiate contact, and then being blown off as if I’m annoying her. Also, I’m beginning to feel like I’m being a burden to her and she doesn’t see the friendship the same way that I do, even though she has referred to me as her 7th sister in the past.

I’m at a loss as to what to do. Hubby wants me to forget about her since she’s obviously not interested in being friends. I want to try and salvage what I can since she’s the only person I have outside of work and my husband. Am I just kidding myself? Should I take her signals for what they appear to be and move on?

We’ve lived here on and off for ten years. My husband has friends through school (he graduated over a year ago) and work. Obviously, it’s time for me to make new friends regardless of whatever happens with her.

I’d like to meet people who are in the same boat as me – mothers who work a regular 9-5. I’m not even all that concerned about their religious beliefs, though it would be nice if we could go out for a drink (of the alcoholic variety) every once in a while, but even that isn’t necessary. I’ve joined the PTA, though I’m only meeting mothers who stay home with their kids. As I’ve already mentioned, I’m a heathen so I’m not about to join a church just to make friends. Besides, I think Hubby might ask for a divorce if that were to happen.

So, what’s a girl to do?

Get me a Ouija Board

2008-10-09T11:26:00.000-06:00

I channeled Swistle last night.

Although it would have been better had I been at Target, it was almost just as good.

You see, I’ve been trying to get out of the house to buy a dress for a wedding I’m going to next month. This wedding is going to be on the beach, in the Caribbean, the day before Thanksgiving (go ahead, kill me now). Due to this, I needed a nice summery dress. Summer normally ends where I live in the beginning of September, so I knew I was pushing the envelope. Because, with summer ending that meant that the summer wardrobe would be leaving store shelves (if it hadn’t already) to be replaced by comfy sweaters.

I was stressing about not being able to find a dress, even though I hadn’t tried to look for one.

I went shopping last night after work, not to look for the dress (because, apparently I enjoy stressing about something that I can easily solve).

No, I went to Kohls to replace the broken over-the-shoulder-boulder-holders (what, you don’t buy your bras at Kohls? Go easy on me, they were having a sale). After procuring non-broken bras, I wandered over to the section that covers the rest of my body to look for more work shirts (not before checking out the sale that was going on in the baby clothes section – it’s like kryptonite to me).

That’s when I looked at the clearance rack. I never look at the clearance rack, mainly because by the time I get there my size is either gone or what is in my size is horrendous.

That’s when I saw two dresses that would be perfect for the beach wedding. They were 70% off, bringing them to $16 each. And, they were in my size! I bought both of them, because I’m that indecisive and, hey, they were $16.

Swistle would be so proud.

Bra's Suck!

2008-10-03T11:29:00.000-06:00

I removed my bra while I was driving at 55mph. What? The underwire snapped and it was pinching me - I just wonder what the guy in the truck next to me was thinking.

When I got home to put on a new one before heading out again, the one I put on was also broken.

The only clean one left is a nursing bra.

That’s right! I haven’t nursed in over two months, but I’m wearing a nursing bra - and boy let me tell ya, it comfy (not)!

Snip Snip, part 2

2008-09-26T11:30:00.000-06:00

The 4th was just over three weeks ago.

After hashing it out some more, Hubby went ahead with the Snip. We both decided that it was the best decision for us.

We discussed how I thought that he would be okay with another one given his reaction to the possibility that I was pregnant again. He said that he wanted to completely go ape shit. He said that he didn’t because if I really was pregnant and he lost it, how would that make me feel? Kind of like when two teenagers realize that they are about to become parents and the guy proposes out of some sort of twisted feeling of responsibility. That made me think, “Holy shit, he really doesn’t want another child, but if I convince him to have one he’ll go along with it but then our relationship will be doomed from then on”.

So, I told him that I was set with the two children we have and to go ahead with it.

Now, according to him, we have to have sex (still protected) another god knows how many times to get the still living swimmers out of his system. Originally, the number of times was a much smaller amount, but had drastically changed after the follow-up visit with his doctor – hmmmm, do you think that this is men banding together to get more sex out of their wives?

So, unless some freaky failure of our current form of birth control happens, we will be a three child household. Oops, I mean two child household – Hubby doesn’t count, does he?

The 4th was just over three weeks ago.

After hashing it out some more, Hubby went ahead with the Snip. We both decided that it was the best decision for us.

We discussed how I thought that he would be okay with another one given his reaction to the possibility that I was pregnant again. He said that he wanted to completely go ape shit. He said that he didn’t because if I really was pregnant and he lost it, how would that make me feel? Kind of like when two teenagers realize that they are about to become parents and the guy proposes out of some sort of twisted feeling of responsibility. That made me think, “Holy shit, he really doesn’t want another child, but if I convince him to have one he’ll go along with it but then our relationship will be doomed from then on”.

So, I told him that I was set with the two children we have and to go ahead with it.

Now, according to him, we have to have sex (still protected) another god knows how many times to get the still living swimmers out of his system. Originally, the number of times was a much smaller amount, but had drastically changed after the follow-up visit with his doctor – hmmmm, do you think that this is men banding together to get more sex out of their wives?

So, unless some freaky failure of our current form of birth control happens, we will be a three child household. Oops, I mean two child household – Hubby doesn’t count, does he?

Snip Snip

2008-08-30T11:32:00.001-06:00

Ok, I know I’ve not posted in … oh, I don’t know how long it’s been, but it’s been a LONG time. I also have a ton of people I need to email, but I can’t get motivated to do that either. I’ve been dealing with some serious baby blues (if not full on PPD). And, to be quite honest, I hate apologizing for not posting. So, I’m going to say that posting is not a priority at the moment and apologies will not be made.

Moving on.

I need help with something.

As you may have guessed, I had a baby about three months ago. I have also been shut out by my aparents (again - more on that another time, maybe) which is why I’m turning to the internets for advice - I have no one else to go to.

Anyway, the pregnancy went ok. Not great (definitely not as easy as my first), but ok. There were a couple of OMG moments, but they were easily dealt with. Actually, these moments were more me freaking out and getting stressed over what turned out to be nothing.

However, the birth is a whole other story. In the end, I had to have an emergency C-section which left me thinking as they rolled me into the operating room that I never wanted to have another child. I had every bad scenario running through my head, most of them leaving my children motherless and my husband without a wife. For those of you who want a detailed description of what it was close to being like, go here.

While I was still pregnant Hubby and I had decided not to find out if it were a boy or a girl. Before the baby was born we had said that if it were a girl we would be done having children. If it were a boy, we would probably have another child to possibly try for a girl.

I was convinced it was a girl. He was convinced it was a girl. The Magic 8 Ball said it was a girl.

I had a boy.

He’s wonderful!

He spent a few days in the NICU, and was on oxygen for 11 weeks. Nights are a little harder than I thought they would be at this stage, but they’ve never been this bad. Breastfeeding was a huge disaster, as it was with our first child. But, apart from that, he’s pretty healthy.

After having some time to reflect on the pregnancy and birth, I’m not sure if I’m done having children. I’m 80% sure I’m done, but not 100% sure.

Hubby says he’s pretty sure he’s done, but the reasons he gives make it sound like he wouldn’t mind having another one. He’s 33 and I’m 31. He says he doesn’t want to have a child who’s still at home when he’s in his 60’s. I understand that. For him to have a child at home while he’s in his 60’s would mean that we would have another child 10 years from now - trust me, I do not want that either. The five years between our two sons is a huge age difference as it is, and I do not want to be pregnant when I’m 40 anyway (if it would even be possible). He also says that we don’t have the finances to support another child. Right now, that’s true. But, in a year or two when we’re doing better financially what will his take be on things then?

Ok, now for a little bit too much information.

About five weeks ago, I knew for sure that I had ovulated for the first time since giving birth. I also knew that we had had (protected) sex a few hours before. So, when I didn’t get my period two weeks later like was supposed to happen, we just assumed that the protection had failed and I was pregnant again. We were both mostly ok with this. Yes, it was a bit too soon since the birth of our second son. And, yes, it would mean that once the child was born I would have to be unemployed because of silly FMLA laws. But we were both prepared to deal with that. Two more weeks went by before I eventually did get my period, which meant that I had either been really late (unlikely for me - I’m usually on time or early) or had had a miscarriage. Either way, I’m not pregnant now.

Here’s where your advice comes in.

Hubby is scheduled for a vasectomy on the 4th. He says he’ll cancel it if I want him to. But I’m not sure if I do. I’m happy with my two boys. I’m pretty sure I don’t want another one, but like I said not 100% sure. I also don’t know if I want the option to be completely gone in less than a week. The surgeon says that the procedure is reversible 90-95% of the time, with a 50% chance of his fertility going back to what it was before. Those odds are not good.

Should I have him postpone the surgery? Should he go ahead with it anyway? Here’s how I look at it. If he’s sure that he doesn’t want any more children, then all the talking in the world isn’t going to change that and he should go ahead with it - right?

I know you can’t make my mind up for me, but any advice or information you have would be great.