Blow
We are sick. Very sick. With the stomach garbage that makes you wish for death. It started on Friday night/early Saturday morning when Gideon started screaming in his crib. Jud went to get him after some prodding as I was already awake with back contractions and didn’t want to bend down to get him out of the crib. Jud yelled for me right away and the sound of alert in his voice made me forget the pain in my back immediately. We spent the next two hours reading him stories and shoving a bucket under his face anytime he started yelling “no, no, no,” which is apparently Gideon-speak for “the puke is coming now.” He slept off and on and took tiny sips of water and was in general an incredible kid. I’ve never seen someone feel so bad and smile so much. He’s just great.
Sunday night Jud and I went to see a movie that we couldn’t watch. We got our money back and I sobbed in the car about cruelty to children. We drove back to my parents house, where Gideon was having fun in between frequent diaper changes that also involved screaming ‘no’ and I hugged and hugged his little body, thankful that he’s been given to us to protect. And then I started feeling really bad. I asked for a bucket. I took the bucket back to our house and good thing too because we wouldn’t have made it inside cleanly otherwise. I made my little bed in the bathroom and prayed for the end. The second coming. A bullet. Whatever. It was horrid.
And then I heard Jud running for the bathroom. He’s been sleeping for about two days straight now and I’m not so sure he hasn’t died, except that every now and again I can see the covers move ever so slightly. Gideon is still waking up exhausted and covered in poo. Frankly, I’m just glad he’s still in diapers and not having to freak out about getting to the toilet like the rest of us just yet. How do you tell a toddler that sometimes going in your pants is your only option versus all those times you’ve encouraged them to tell you when they have to go? Ugh.
So, I’m exhausted, unable to sleep and still experiencing tiny bouts of shortness of breath with hot searing pain (no worries, says the doc. It’s just what happens when a giant baby is compressing your diaphragm and you’ve injured your muscles by heaving. Nice). We all hope your Valentine’s Day was just as exciting! Off to disinfect.
Read MoreFive or Six
This week I’ll begin seeing my OB every week. Did I tell you that I switched? Because I am slightly neurotic and couldn’t bring myself to get over the fact that I was going to deliver at a hospital where I had very little confidence in the nursing staff? And not the OB nurses. I know nothing of them. It’s technically the ER that leaves me shaking, but there’s that part of me that thinks “if they don’t have the best of the best in the highest pressure situations, why should I think they’ve got high standards in the rest of their departments?” And that’s just the tip of the giant iceberg-o-nuts. When the OB I was seeing started pushing me to his new PA for every visit without so much as a word and then moved his office to a less convenient location, I walked. And then I fretted. And considered driving to Dallas for my appointments and delivery just so that I could have my beloved doctor and hospital back. And then I woke up from insane daydreams and started quietly asking for some names from people I trust, one of them being a friend who just recently delivered a baby boy that is so tiny and delicious I have to restrain myself from shoving spoonfuls of him into my mouth. She raved about her doc and off I went. She is right. He is great, but his office is still slightly under par, in my obviously judgmental opinion.
Case in point:
Last week I got a funky infection in my nose. It started happening from time to time after my sceptoplasty in 95 at the place where the brace was sewn through my septum. It usually clears up with some OTC salve but this time didn’t. I called the OB because, in my limited experience, I’ve found that doctors like to be the only one prescribing you things and diagnosing your ills. I spoke with one of the nurses. She said she’d call back. I didn’t hear back until the next day (I called in the AM, so this was annoying. If it’s 3pm or later, I get the next day follow up. But I waited all day for them to call with what should happen and got nothing). When she did call back she told me that I didn’t have voicemail. I told her that I do have a machine so that couldn’t be it. She told me that it was busy. Totally possible if she called my land line because we only have that to save on the cell phone minutes and for babysitters to use in case they need to call 911. We don’t have call waiting, but a busy signal on my land line didn’t preclude them from calling my cell phone and I am sure that number is in my chart. I am positive they have ALL our numbers. So, anyway, after not calling back until the next day, she tells me that she didn’t talk to MY doctor but that she spoke with a different doc in the office who said I should see a primary care person. I don’t mind that at all. I love my primary care lady. She is tops, but I just kind of have that sneaking suspicion that the nurse didn’t talk with anyone. That she realized she didn’t get back in touch with me and then just told me to go somewhere else. Perhaps the tone of the calls played a factor or perhaps I am just incredibly distrustful of people in general. Either way, it left a slightly acidic taste in my mouth. But the doctor himself? So far, he is the best I’ve seen in this town. We’ll be getting to know him much more over the next few weeks.
In the meantime, the past two nights I’ve had the best sleep I’ve had in months. This is due to some unknown cosmic shift, my refusal to allow myself a nap at anytime of the day and a lovely drug called Protonix. It took a while to find something to tame this acid reflux beast, but this was the last thing on the list of the strong stuff to try and I am so thankful for those tiny yellow pills that have shut down my acid pumps. I heart you, nerdy scientist people who love to make drugs the legal way!
BehBeh #2 is all elbows and knees and fist punches and karate chops right now. I thought she’d be out of room for all of these dramatic movements by now, but she seems to be getting more and more angry at my right side every day. Or perhaps she attempting to exit womb right. The burrowing action she attempted the other day makes me think it is the latter. We shall see.
There really isn’t any other news these days than the normal grind of life. A friend is leaving for Africa soon and we are going to miss her terribly. Some more friends of ours are pregnant and we are unbelievably excited for them (there is nothing quite like the joy of parenting to make you want everyone to join in on the fun). I’m still looking for a long box of fake wheat grass to put on my mantle (although I did add a nice candlestick to the left side…still searching for the right candle). We’ve had gorgeous weather the past few days and I am loving that it rained today (rain! like it’s spring or something!) after Jud and I saw a robin on our fence this morning. See? Blissfully normal.
Read MoreTwo for the Road
I should probably never have taught him to say cheese.
Shortly before we retired this hoodie due to his expanding cranium
I have caught a head cold, one that requires me to keep myself from infecting other people by laying on the sofa and watching HGTV as much as humanly possible and shower frequently to help clear my nasal cavities. Last night before falling asleep, I made sure I had everything I needed on the coffee table for the night – generic Vics VapoRub, Chloroseptic, a box of tissues, a big glass of ice water, acetaminophen and a trash can for all the used tissues. The only thing I really needed, but didn’t have was a catheter. Since the fuzzy pregnancy brain is now clogged with mucus too, things around here are moving a bit more slowly than before (and I didn’t really think that was possible, given the extra 30lbs that have hunkered down around my midsection and thighs). I’m sure none of this is interesting and have no reason to share it with you except to say wha! very loudly down this series of tubes and, also, don’t be surprised if I I’m a zombie at Bible study tonight.
Read MoreA Little Help from My Friends
So, remember that burning problem of what to do above the mantle? Well, we’re on our way to solving it.
Help Wanted
I’m a simple girl and don’t typically have a lot of knickknacks strewn about. But I think this still needs something. The question is: What is it?…Something colorful? Something candle-ish? Something round? Something tall? All suggestions welcome but only the good ones will be indulged.
Read MoreOn Shadows
I love Bill Murray and Sonny and Cher. Just saying. But I really hate groundhogs. I’m also super freaked out by the people who get the animal out of his little cage. It’s just too over the top for me.
I did, however, want to know the outcome of his little foray. I didn’t see the story in print while perusing cnn.com today (just the video which I am avoiding), but I found a few stories that I wanted to share with all of you.
1. This website is getting tons of traffic. If you haven’t heard of it (as I hadn’t until just a few minutes ago), I’m guessing you won’t be able to get in on all that water cooler talk. It’s political and, I think, entertaining.
2. Apparently your home could be making you fat, instead of all those brownies and chips. Good to know. A few helpful hints from the site:
– don’t walk through your kitchen when you come home (they actually suggest using your main entrance, as if you would actually park in your garage and then walk outside to unlock your door and go through your house that way. You’ll get a few extra steps in that way too, I suppose)
– throw away food that your husband or children purchased (I’m sure that will make your life better. Be sure to let me know if you do this. I’d love to hear how it turns out)
– use tiny utensils, tools and plates to trick yourself into eating less (okay, so maybe I eat off of our small plates instead of our giant Asian-y ones to trick my brain, but I’m not subbing out chopsticks unless I’m consuming something involving ginger and soy)
– don’t change into baggy clothes when you get home, wear something fitted instead so that you have a true sense of your body (this one cannot be directed at pregnant ladies because we are barely wearing pants as it is…or is that just me?)
3. Oh, Michael. What kind of role model for ADHD kids are you now? I guess you did win all those medals and you didn’t test positive for drugs then, but I’m guessing that wouldn’t be the case right now. Get it together, dude.
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