Sunday, December 27, 2009
I love my chiropractor. I got him from my sister. I can walk more like a normal human now. My chiropractor has given me TENS therapy several times and I looooove it. Apparently I mentioned it in conversation to the gift bearer and they decided I needed one. So wooot! I got a portable, battery operated TENS unit and have already put it to use. I kinda think this is cooler than my sister's breathalyzer thing.
the egads? Shopping takes energy when you're difficult to fit in the first place plus 3 months postpartum and still shrinking. I did score a pair of khakis and grey pants to expand my wardrobe beyond the jeans and the one pair of black pants. I have a sneaking suspicion that I will be in this size longer than I want to admit and my prepregnancy pants will be out of style by the time I fit back into them. Four babies does things like that to a mother's body.
the other egads? I-and everyone else- forgot the diaper bag when we went shopping. Thankfully I had a contingency plan for that and put a diaper in the van. That got full and had to be changed while shopping. Then between stops the baby filled the diaper with vileness. Poor thing, Mommy's antibiotics get shared and as a result her diapers are big messes. The one diaper in the van was all I had in there too. Devildog ran home to get the diaper bag and a change of clothes because she oozed. I had to wash the carseat cover when we got home. Yuk.
I'm still hacking and coughing because my lungs are still compromised. But that fever that slowed me down broke last night. What a Christmas gift! I awakened at 5 am fully drenched and smelling so abhorrent that it rivaled Beast's football funk. That aspect wasn't such a pleasant one. I do feel a bit better, but certainly won't complain about a return of my pulmonary function.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Yes I am. Augmentin = horse pills. Constant coughing due to lung spasms for lack of sufficient oxygen = raw throat. Devildog hates the "psst" I have to use to get someone's attention, despite the fact that's how I call my kids when we're in public. The number of "psst" is the number child I'm calling, and it's more fun to see what kind of looks I get from people than a game of Marco Polo. Everyone's becoming more proficient at figuring out the mix of charades and handful of sign language signs that I remember. And when all else fails I get pen and paper or use my cellphone text screen to get the message across.
Merry Christmas family, you got a wife & mother that can't nag you because she can't talk. Now I just have to figure out which one of these yayhoos put in that request to Santa. Next year they're getting a huge pile of coal.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
I may have to rethink my primary care provider though. Mine is a walk in clinic, but it is NOT a doc-in-a-box. So the caveat to that is waiting. And waiting. And waiting. Thankfully I brought my knitting with me and got a good bit done. Thanks to Devildog's aunt for teaching me to knit Continental. It goes SO much faster. I might actually finish this project in time for next Christmas. In the meantime, I am just too busy to be sick, but alas, my body said "HAH!" and now I'm too sick for busy. When you don't get enough oxygen, it makes things just a weeee challenging.
I really am trying to keep my focus on gratitude in all my challenges. No point in making things worse by whining like I so often do right? I'm too busy to whine about being sick or busy anyway.
Monday, December 21, 2009
To quote my crackbook status update for Sunday
Feisty went to Mass, fed baby, took a nap, fed baby, made dinner, fed baby, and now needs to clean and declutter SOMETHING in the den. Meanwhile everyone asks "which Christmas Mass are you attending?" ::shrug:: late vigil maybe? Depends on dh's work schedule & what happens at Dad's. Oldest sis has called a gathering at his house Christmas Eve.
I didn't clean anything because Devildog dragged out the Christmas tree and I gave him authority over the lights this year. I didn't have the energy, plus my lower back was screaming at me again by that point. We gave Clone full reign over where the ornaments went. Yet, all of that and I'm still awake, forgetting to order my FLYlady calendar so I can get it by the end of the current year. THAT and scheduling my work for the week were the whole reason I got online so late.
Meanwhile an old friend from a message board has been keeping things current on her blog. She's one of those overachieving, busy, suzy-homemaker types that works Catholic homeschooling waaaaaay better than I work my slacker mode. Feel free to peruse her blog, and perhaps send me some of the rum balls she's got posted somewhere in one of her recipes.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Without missing a single beat, breath, or blink the child said "No, you can not eat me"
Monday, October 26, 2009
I'm still busy tending the mini-human and her 3 older siblings, plus working (yes already) and going to the chiropractor twice a week for adjustments. I missed Friday's appointment because I was running behind the 8-ball and then there was an accident RIGHT in front of me. Then the mini-human screamed for my help with a yucky diaper, but I couldn't get out of the mom-bus to tend her because the rubberneckers are morons and would have clobbered me as they gawked at the vehicular carnage. I really needed an adjustment Friday, so I was upset with myself for being late, and really frustrated that I missed my appointment. That in conjunction with the postpartum hormones, I wanted to cry actually. Love the hormones. Really.
Today's adjustment consisted of a few additional manipulations than previous visits involved. I was really trying NOT to undo the chiropractor's handiwork. So I honestly did very little today in hopes of achieving that particular goal. Two of the kids were home from school today for planning day, and it was fairly quiet for the most part. Except, the Clone and her hormones were out of whack and PMSing today. I offered her chocolate and she said she didn't like it. ::quizzical look::
I'd be rambling with a bunch more of the mommy-blather at this point but I will spare you the boredom-induced drooling. I'm sure you would much rather use that salivary function for baked goods or that hidden Halloween candy you've been trying not to eat - but just can't seem to ignore its call.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Thinking = epic FAIL
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
She was born a week and a half before big brother's birthday. A board buddy on another site was due the first week of October, and because of some health related issues, she was induced the same day I was. So Thumper has a birthday buddy born a short time after she arrived.
Because I'm rather tied up with tending a baby, the other kids are a mixed bag of helpfulness and annoyance. The teenagers are taking advantage of things and I won't go into detail but I am hopping mad about one particular instance involving someone snooping in my drawers. I should hide other things in there that would shock that person, or require brain bleach. Later, karma will come back and say hi, they can rest assured about that. Then there are times when my time doesn't equal a child's timeframe...and THAT is enough to make lumps on heads a reality. Meanwhile Clone is having a hard time with my time and attention being directed at the baby. She's only getting slightly less attention than when she was the only girl and the baby of the household, but now my attention is directed at someone very loud and demanding and isn't easily quieted...well except via constant attachment to my person. We're getting more attitude and defiance from Clone and it's not typical for her unless she's overly tired. She's not overly tired so much as mad that someone has invaded her territory as the baby, and let's just add insult to injury and include that this someone has moved into her bedroom to boot.
I'm thankful Thumper has developed some semblance of a routine. It's not a concrete routine but more what you could call "guidelines". Eventually that pregnancy ticker at the top of the blog will get removed or changed to something else.
He's weirded out by my nursing Thumper, but he still maintains his sense of humor about it.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
I got to the hospital, was put into a room, with one of those *lovely* gowns that are too big for me, even that pregnant. Can we raid pediatrics for a gown more my size?
The doctor broke my water at 8, pitocin was started at 9 after several attempts to get the darn IV to not pinch me. I finally asked that it be redone because there was no "unpinching" of the first.
By 11 I was not having a party by any means.
By 12 I was a sniveling baby.
By 12:30 I was fighting the contractions and whining about an epidural.
At 12:50 I asked for the epidural.
The nurse called the anesthesiologist, stepped into the hallway for the epidural cart and brought it in, turned around to do something w/ the monitor and
At 12:51 I had to push - no time for epidural now because the baby exit was completely ready for the baby to leave the nest.
At 12:56 the baby was out - yelling that she was cold and did not appreciate having landed on the end of the bed. She only landed there because things moved so fast the bed didn't get broken down, and the doctor had to pause to unwrap the cord from the baby's neck.
The doctor almost didn't get to the room in time, barely got her hands into gloves and had to change clothes when she was done. It was a war zone for a few minutes. We were the talk of the maternity unit, and the OB's office.
My hips are still bothering me, and I think I broke my tailbone again. I need to go see a chiropractor for a realignment. It's been a busy week, and looking busier as time goes forward.
Her name means "peace-maker", she has a lot of hair, very functional lungs and a huge appetite.
For the sake of the blog...I might keep her name as Thumper, or change it to something like Torpedo. Heck, I might even go with Nascar for her - she goes from zero to sixty in no time flat.
And in other news....
HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEAST! Sorry, I didn't get you much for your birthday but I did get you a little sister ;) Yea, I know...I suck at this mom thing apparently.
Monday, September 28, 2009
I went for step 1 of the induction process Sunday. Step 2 is Monday. I'm too tired and uncomfortable right now to go into details, and I still have a bunch of crap to finish before heading to bed. So, just keeping it short and simple this go round. Prayers for us would be lovely.
Friday, September 25, 2009
I swear if it's not my 16 year old son stressing me out, it's my 82 year old father. Attention whores. Can't let me be the focus just a few months? Geeez.
The oven is still baking a baby, but it's baking past the due date. Shouldn't there be some kind of alarm that sounds when something overbakes? I mean when I use the oven and something's been in there too long, there is a smell of smoke, and then a noisy alarm sounds to tell me I got stupid and distracted, and I need to go take the stuff out of the oven. Baby-bakers don't come with such equipment in the womb.
Well if she's not done baking by the weekend, she's getting evicted from the oven Monday. The heat source is needed for other things too and she just can't be hogging it for herself. I finished my last round of service calls for the time being, and walked all week (yay for hips popping back into place last month!) in hopes of helping Thumper find the exit. We'll see if it helps.
God's just teaching me patience. It doesn't take rocket surgery to know that.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Went to my 40 week appointment and no change, still baking a baby, nothing exciting. She does have an eviction notice for the 28th if she's not out by then. She's apparently got a self imposed lockdown for herself but there's an end date in sight. Plus I have 6 service calls and a reset, and Devildog has inventory at work this week. Noooo, there's nothing going on that makes us too busy to be worrying about having a baby or anything. None. What. So. Ever.
My camera has impeccable timing and it crapped out on me a few weeks ago. I borrowed my sister's for the time being but it's 3 megapixels, my old one was 6. It's better than nothing so I accepted her generosity. I have my eye slated on a Nikon model that is in budget and has the SD memory card and AA battery requirements I need. Don't roll your eyes about the battery thing...I have a bunch of AA rechargables, and if I absolutely have to, I can get AA batteries at the dollar store in a pinch as needed. I'm not tied to a certain charger cord or a computer to charge the thing. When you have 4 kids, and at least one who inevitably move your belongings, a charger cord is one less thing for them to move on you. AA batteries ... common stuff and kids can't get all evil genius on you and hide EVERY last AA battery on earth from your reach or sight.
Monday, September 14, 2009
I've been an unwilling participant losing the game of Fetal Tetris.
My bladder crapped out on me back in May and has continuously been saying "piss on ya" since then.
This baby has successfully made me stupider than I was before. I'm just thankful I had a larger than average number of active and functioning brain cells when I started my family 16 years ago-well 17 years when you count the conception and gestation. I just hope that as dumb as I've become, this baby girl is an absolute genius stemming from her unadulterated theft of my cognition.
I'm moody, whiny, sullen, mean, evol, cranky, and otherwise like any other teenager in the world - especially when things don't go the way I expect or want. I've actually taken to hiding in my room to avoid spilling my vile mood on others. It doesn't work, because others seek me out and dare enter my room where the vile drips from the bed and stains the carpet. Watch your step in there, I can't get you up off the floor if you slip. I need a forklift myself as it is.
Last week at my doctor's appointment, she asked my sentiments about induction. I told her that I wasn't opposed to it, but felt it was unnecessary in my case and I'd like to wait. She said they don't like to do it till 39 weeks and prefer to see some kind of sign that mom's body is amenable to getting a baby out of her person.
I wagered a guess bout my progress of the baby-exit region, and the doctor confirmed my guess. She then said "we'd like to see more progress than that if we decide to induce you anyway."
At my next appointment the conversation will be revisited and I'm inclined to asking in return "Is NOW a good time for you?"
I did a LOT of walking at work, and shopping this past week. I hope that provided some gains in getting Thumper to exit. I scored some good deals and those are some of the highlights for me. At church Sunday, someone anonymously left me a BIG stack of diapers. It wasn't so much the tangible gift that made my weekend, as the fact that there are people who just love me and want to share with me. It's rather humbling.
I whine and moan way too much. I know that, and make no excuses for it. I try to find humor in things because otherwise I'd whine and moan just that much more anyway. I may as well entertain people out of my unpleasant happenings and experiences. So I guess my entertainment endears me to others or something and as a result, we've been blessed to not have to buy much of anything for Thumper. It was like that for Clone's arrival too. Most of the money out of pocket I've spent during this pregnancy has been for me on maternity and nursing stuff. With both girls, I've not had to buy much of anything. Friends and relatives have blessed me with what was needed, and my girl clothing purchases have been minimal. I'm sure we'll make up for this in their teen years, but by then their big brothers will be adults. And as I keep trying to look forward and count my blessings while painting silver on my thorns, I can't help but keep thinking and saying...
Just stick a fork in me, I'm done. Done waddling, sharing my person, making pit stops every 4 minutes, sleeping in a nest of pillows, being on a first name basis with Tums, and wondering just what exactly is leaking from where.
Friday, August 28, 2009
And from what I can tell, being pregnant makes it open season to lots of people.
Apparently some people were COMPLETELY unaware that I was growing a human. Those that know me, know my kids have all been hiders and sit on my back till they run out of room and have no choice but to make their presence known to the rest of the viewing public. I bet you're asking how that is even possible considering the expanding form (my facebook friends can see the progression since January). Well the thing is, at work, if I can use the fart cart I do. If any store has it, I use it. So me sitting on a cart kind of hides the already hide-y baby belly that is there.
What? You mean just growing a human can't possibly be that arduous? I even got asked by an old man at the grocery store "what's your disability that you have to use the cart?" I told him that I was growing a human and she was doing things to my body he couldn't imagine and walking was damn near impossible for me right now. He then moved on to questioning why I was buying whole milk instead of just a box of powdered and putting water in it because it was just the same. He's lucky my dad is his age and I understand the history of these Depression Era thinkers, and I didn't snap his hairy ears off his head. Thanks Dad for teaching me to respect my elders, too bad the lesson wasn't reciprocative for the elders to respect the youngers.
For the past month and a half or so, walking has been not only difficult or at times impossible, but just moving was painful. After talking to a couple other preggos on my online board for other September due dates, I diagnosed myself with this thing called SPD or symphasis pubis dysfunction. Short story of it all, given my history of pelvic girdle injuries and the associated misalignment, plus the weight of a parasitic human and her warm, watery habitat, plus preggo hormone relaxin, equals one really over-stretched ligament/tendon between my pubic bones.
So that pretty much explains the horrid sciatic pain that prevented me from moving. I had some days better than others, but there were plenty of days I just wanted to cry from it - the pain and the frustration. One of my OBs suggested compression on my hips and I consider her a total God-send for suggesting it. While it didn't make the pain go away, it helped tremendously. It helped push the bones closer so the overstretched ligament wasn't getting away with shearing off the bone. The general recommendation that came from the other OB (who I prefer not to see but that's another rant elsewhere) was for physical therapy. I can only guess this guy thinks chiropractors are quacks or something. Not even going there, just praying that if I don't change providers this far into the human growth process, that this particular scientifically degreed individual does not do the baby catching. However, I disagree with him and started calling chiros on my insurance. The ones I called and that came recommended by others were hesitant to take me on as a patient this far into the game without my having prior chiro care. Understandable and I'm not going to fault them. I get it. I knew the problem I was having was due to misalignment, and I could FEEL as much when I moved certain ways in my attempts to alleviate things myself. I will just go to a chiro postpartum and get myself realigned as the case merits. I must have moved in a good way a couple weeks ago because after stretching a direction I hadn't tried before, something in the pelvic region moved and popped a bit. The next morning I was rolling over to get out of bed and somehow managed to get my hips to pop (and it was not painful- it was actually relieving!) and I have been able to walk again relatively pain free since. I do have to mind how I move, and how long I'm on my feet etc. However it's been a much welcomed break from the literal pain in my butt I had for many weeks. I prayed daily to St Gianna for help getting through that agony.
My nesting energy has been spent working, so I have been completely useless at home. The house has puked on itself as we try to get ready for Thumper's arrival. Devildog is the one that got the Clone's bedroom ready to accommodate another human of sisterly kind. Persnickety and another friend gave me enough clothing and linens that this baby is dressed till Kindergarten and I am NOT exaggerating. At that point we still have Clone's stuff, and I'm sure others will pass on the wealth later as needed. Here I was giving stuff to Clone's old daycare, the women's shelter thrift shop, and others I knew personally that could make use of things as Clone no longer needed or used them. Silly me, should've known another human would appear huh?
"When are you due?"
"WHAT? No way! You don't look that far along/that pregnant/pregnant at all"
-um, thanks? I sure as hell FEEL every bit as pregnant as I really am. Waddling since May, Devildog called me ducky. It's now my answer when someone asks "how are you?" They're not paying attention and think I say "yucky". Here's a q-tip, clear the wax.
"Don't you know what causes that?"
- YES! We're good at it, and we've had 17 years of practice! (Happy Anniversary of our First Date, my baby daddy!)
"How many is this?"
-This is baby #4, girl #2. Teams are tied.
"How old are your other kids?"
-RW is 16, Beast will be 15 two weeks after I'm due, and Clone is 7.
"Oh WOW, you spaced them apart didn't you?"
-Well they were all surprises and we didn't expect the timing or spacing, but the bonus is built in babysitters and helpers, and the older ones are self-sufficient enough that if I am unable to do something, any of them can do it.
(and yes, even the Clone can do her own laundry, take a shower, dress herself, get her own PB&J sandwich, salad, yogurt, drink or almost any number of things. I am big on kids learning basic life skills so I can go back to being a slacker mom. I robbed myself of my adolescent years having RW in high school and Beast right after I graduated.)
"Well are you or your husband going to get fixed?"
-I didn't realize anything was broken, nor did I realize Devildog and I were of canine variety. Can someone hand me a towel, my tongue is bleeding from biting it so I don't ask people if they're going to get the rectal craniotomy reversed.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Saturday, August 8, 2009
It's at that point I'm going to lose my ever loving mind. Near-end of this pregnancy. End of summer. School isn't in session yet. Resets are about to start at work. I don't know if my boss has someone to cover the stores I've asked to be taken out of as I reduce my workload before Thumper arrives. Devildog works this crazy stupidity-inducing shift. Kids are stir crazy. Devildog finds something to do away from home on every one of his days off because quite honestly even I don't want to be here. The house has vomited all over itself. Between a friend BL and Persnickety, Thumper will need for nothing, and be well dressed to boot. I mean I even have a big bag of shoes for Pete's sake.
I hoped to make progress with this mess of a shoebox before mid-August, so I could just focus on the next few weeks at work, and getting the kids ready for school. So like a full on ADD brain, I start hopping around from project to project and never finishing any of them. Start working in Clone's room, fizzle out because I want the crib assembled so I can put baby stuff in it to get it out of the way for now. Well...do we use Clone's Crib4Life, or do we take someone up on their offer to give us their crib they no longer need? Since I have this butt load of baby stuff, I need to sort it by size, wash it, and wait...
Where are we going to put the baby's clothes, because cardboard boxes just are not going to work even though I have TONS of them. I have this dresser I scored from the curb, and Clone staked her claim on it, down to the wood stain color she wanted, so Thumper can use the shorter longer dresser (which comes in very handy as a changing station with one of those contoured pad things on it. This was all her idea, so I'm just going to let her think that she came up with it first. I'd already been thinking about it but was trying to tread carefully for fear of catching Clone on a "Thumper-can-just-sleep-in-the-living-room-on-the-futon" kind of days. Anyway, Devildog tossed out the last spitfull of paint remover some time ago (against my better judgement) and I lack the proper scraping or sanding tools to get through 8 layers of paint still in the nooks and crannies of this dresser. I'm mangling woodwork at this point with a razor blade, but I also don't care anymore. I just need this crap done. I can't do this work in the house, it's too cramped and makes a huge mess with the Ryobi rotary tool (think "dremel"), and sandpaper, and scraping of paint. I have almost all of it done but this project was easier when it was still cold outside versus the "hades on your doorstep" temperatures we get in August. As soon as I can stain that dresser, it's getting done, come hell or high water (please Lord, not BROKEN water-yet at least..or contractions either).
I've pulled out more work for myself than I can manage in a short time, and at this point, I just don't care anymore. Except, I still need a place to put this human who likes to party under my ribcage at varying hours of the day and night - most notably 1 and 2 in the morning. Oh yes, and she has a penchant for giving me heartburn at the most *opportune* times too. She's gotta stay put a little longer though, and hopefully in the time I have left before she exits the oven, I can make a sizable dent in the mess. I can deal with laundry later. However, right now, I need to get the stuff my house puked on itself cleaned up without losing my mind. My August calendar is chock full of other things that are going to physically wear me out as it is.
I'm not even going to start on the eminent danger the computer is in of dying for lack of sufficient RAM (working on that), the annoyance of the children and Devildog's schedule, and the other family drama of sheer stupidity that is swirling around me. Nor will I whack my head on the brick wall that is Devildog refusing to even look at baby clothes because he just isn't ready. Can you see my eyeroll? It's so far back that I really can see what the kids are doing behind me. God love my husband, he's apparently STILL shocked some near 30 weeks later, despite the visible evidence of another human's presence inside my own.
So, all I've accomplished is a bigger mess, a lot of grand plans of marvelous theory, and annoying my ENTIRE household with my insane ADD nesting. This is nothing like I'd hoped it would be at this point in time. nothing.
Now...if you'll excuse me, I *KNOW* I saw a waiter somewhere around here with a tray of cheese. I saw some that would go wonderfully with my whine....
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Clone to Thumper-in-belleh: "Thumper, do not EVER learn anything from our brothers. They're just no good!"
This from the same child who declared more than once that Thumper can sleep in the living room, even suggesting one time she could sleep on the futon.
For Christmas, can you just give me shares of stock in Garnier? I'm REALLY going to need it.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
I will however, finish compiling these blog posts of kid funnies and household "oh-gawd-what-now" moments and get them to you. I'm just busy trying to avoid going over the edge, and probably failing miserably with that task. My sleep pattern is absolutely screwed up too...and the growing a human part of things is not helping me sleep. Having to get up in the middle of the night to waddle to the bathroom, developing a nifty unofficially diagnosed thing with a medical abbreviation of SPD (some sort of pelvic displasia that makes it excruciatingly painful to walk, stand or even move), having to sleep in some strange way propped up by all the bed pillows to alleviate the heartburn while not causing more circulation or hip problems...ugh, I'll just spare you the rest. I'm just very grateful Moose told me about this pressure point for sciatic pain. I've used it extensively since the advice was dispensed.
the lesson? A person just does not realize how important hips are till they go awry and pregnant over 30 is absolutely FOR.THE.BIRDS.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Devildog later told the boys about this aspect of using Dad's razor. Beast laughed and said to RW "Maybe that's why your face has been breaking out so much."
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
I can't wait till he's an adult. I am going to set my alarm for that time in the morning and call him and yell into the phone "it's a boy!" and hang up cackling. Bwahahahaha!!! I'm such an evol mother!
Happy Birthday RW.
Monday, June 29, 2009
If you see me on the news, just know it was not unprovoked.
Monday, June 22, 2009
I was in the room when Devildog was flipping channels between the NASCAR race out in the California desert and the Atlanta/Boston game in Boston. I almost envy Bostonians and other New Englanders with temperatures below 80 degrees. Here in Florida, it's been around 100 degrees. At 2:30 PM when I was eating my post-church lunch, Devildog flipped over to the Weather Channel to get the current conditions. It said real temperature was 97, but the heat index (you know what your physical person says the weather feels like?) was...are you sitting down in a safe chair? I'll wait, I really don't want to knock you over because the heat here does enough of that without my helping. Ok, as I was saying, the heat index - yea, 109 degrees. As in- Hell came out of its depths and decided to play in my neighborhood. It can return to rightful place anytime now, like yesterday would be nice. I am fine with 92 degrees, because that is a cakewalk by comparison.
This heat is enough to make any crazy person reconsider leaving the house. I know plenty of SANE ones that are hiding indoors too. And there's no leaving the house after dark either. At midnight it was still 91 degrees even. Hell hath no fury like its own presence outside your door.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
So I get in my mom-bus and there's a mosquito. I can't accurately take aim, so of course I keep missing the bug. I gave up for the sake of getting to Persnickety's house on time. In that 20 minute drive, my ankles became a smorgasbord of sorts. I carted Snick to the doc, and then since I was in the neighborhood of one of my service calls for the week, I dragged her with me for the sake of fuel efficiency. On the way, the pesky mosquito reappeared, after having its fill of my ankles. I tried smacking at it several times, and of course, with no success. Persnickety took one whack and caught the bugger.
She then turned to me and said "you can't kill it if you're giving it a round of applause"
Thanks Persnickety, for pointing out yet another inadequacy in my life: my ability to miss the target. Bravo.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
I'm still kind of smirking about it 10 minutes later. My luck, he's going to be the one taking care of me when I'm old, volunteering to do so solely for the sake of making me need the Depends that much more from his entertainment. He'd be just weird enough to do that.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
"Well how did you get up so early?"
"um, well, I went to itch my head and I ended up pulling the lamp and that made my Dora alarm clock come crashing down on my head"
I laughed at this, immediately apologizing because she hates when someone laughs at her. At least she didn't shriek at me this time.
And here I've been all along, spending extra time setting my alarm clock so that it makes this obnoxious noise at me.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
In the cute category we have a friend's Baby R, who is about 6 months old. Sunday was a lovely brunch after church in the hall, and Beast nabbed Baby R. From Mama D., much to the relief of Mama D's arms. Baby R is a peanut but when it's your own peanut, your peanut weighs a lot. Beast had Baby R pretty much the entire hour or so we were there, playing with her, holding her, entertaining her. He's had previous experience with his own baby sister, who has become this 7 year old Clone of mine and isn't so easily entertained anymore. Mama D took the baby away from Beast, so she could make her goodbye rounds. I got a brief visit, and snagged Baby R from mom for a minute while mom said bye to someone else at the table. Beast walked up behind me and Baby R crawled up my shoulder to get to him. Mom nabbed R back and got stopped by someone else, and once again Baby R was reaching for Beast instead. Mama D wanted to kidnap Beast and take him home with her so he could help. I offered RW in his place because RW won't give her the same attitude he gives me. She declined the offer. I was so hoping...
In the not all that entertaining, but noteworthy category, we have the turkey timer:
It's starting to pop out, while I am losing sight of my feet. I'm small by comparison to lots of other people carting another human within. I now weigh the same as I did when I birthed the Beast almost 15 years ago. I'm not yet the same size and weight that I was with Clone. There's still hope for me to not get any bigger than that.
I do feel really badly for one of the teachers at Clone's school. She's due in a couple weeks and the poor woman is just huge. She needs to hire someone to walk around in front of her to hold up her belly. This is also her 4th baby, and 3rd girl. I'm telling you, pregnant over 30 is for the birds, girls are notoriously UNKIND to their mother's body, and the more babies that are baked the earlier things pop and become a pesky challenge.
In the Beverages category - a couple things. First of all, I had the WEIRDEST dream the other day. I only remember that I was sitting in a bar or some sort of gathering, holding a pint-glass full of lager (probably Yuengling) and enjoying the consumption of said beverage. However, I was house-sized pregnant in this dream. I have no clue why this baby has me actually wanting beer on a regular enough basis to call it frequent.
Also RW has been taking weekly (or as close to weekly) profile pictures of me, to chronicle the expansion of my girth. After dinner I asked him to do the belly shot, as we've come to call it. RW said we should just take the picture with me sitting in the chair because "You can't even stand up today." Devildog piped up from the other room to say "You're pregnant, you really shouldn't be drinking."
Has he been in my head while I'm dreaming or something?
Sunday, May 31, 2009
The excitement of my weekend is that it's my birthing day. Go back and read that before you post comments or I'll publicly lambaste you for not paying attention. Yes, I said "birthING", as in - one of my spawn was born a certain number of years ago. This occasion celebrates the Clone exiting the womb, and fairly effeciently I will add. Persnickety calls me a machine. 'Snick, Thanks for jinxing me. I feel loved. Really.
The timing of these things also coincides with the annual school district's "Reading Celebration" event. A previous superintendent implemented a standard that students should read 25 age appropriate (or tougher) books per year. Adjustments and allowances were made for novels that had so many pages, it would kill a cat if dropped on the unsuspecting feline. The subsequent Sups never changed that standard, and I actually don't disagree with it. So the kids that read at least 25 books got invited to this big vendor-fest downtown. My Clone qualified, something like 5 times over.
She is one of those girls I disliked in school. SHE went on record as having read 147 books. Yes, that was correct: one hundred forty seven. I had to staple an extra sheet of paper in her agenda book to extend her reading log. She likes to read, and I'm not going to prevent that. So I took her to the event, she earned it. Free lunch was involved for the kids, and who am I to argue that? I kidnapped the landlord's spawn since he took Beast for servitude elsewhere.
The girls and I suffered the beating sun and 90 plus degrees (no arguing the temps either, preggo thermometer rules are in place here). Clone loved that when she was asked how many books she read, her answer was met with astonishment and excitement.
Did I mention that when I was in school, I didn't like those over-achieving girls who read more books in a school year than I had interest in reading in my entire life?
I'm too much a slacker-mom to be one of those over-achieving people. I'll just have to live vicariously through my over-achieving clone.
Happy Birthday Clone.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
I was told not to hurt my husband - which I won't do because that would be an additional problem for me, and I try to make as few problems for myself as possible.
here, let me make it much simpler:
So, as you try to digest that...I'm going to my bed. And if you didn't see the humor we saw in it, meh, better luck next time for both of us. I'll just blame the sleep deprivation and the hawaiian curse. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Because it's been raining so much, the kids haven't been outside to do anything this entire week. All the kids are going bonkers, including the Stowaway, who is probably going to get nicknamed Thumper. I took Clone to Chick-Fil-A the other day so she could run around and play for an hour or so to get some of the energy out of the way. Last night friends C&S begged me to let Clone come to their house to play because their own child was firmly wedged in their unsunny places and they needed to sit down without an extra pair of little legs in the way. It was nice to not have Disney channel on the tv for a while. Except, the teenagers went no where and there was no quiet in my house anyway.
This morning, I was lazing in my bed because it's comfy and cozy in there. The kids keep trying to lay in my bed and hang out when I'm in there escaping or resting. GO AWAY! It's MY bed and yes, it's cozy because I made it that way! *ahem* sorry. Anyway, I was lazing in my bed and avoiding my parental duties to the two teens and a Clone because I am also a slacker mom who raised her spawn to be independent beings that can get their own sustenance in the mornings, including brewing a pot of coffee for the household. There arose with such a clatter - 0r more like a bunch of screeching, and yowling - the sounds of feathers and fur flying. The teenagers were pushing each others' buttons and the Clone was shrieking for them to stop. They went to blows a couple weeks ago in front of her, poor girl.
After I got out of bed and did my own shrieking, things settled down a bit, but I was still ticked. I refused to let them explain what was going on, why, how etc. I just didn't want to get in the middle of it. I need to set up a box office in the front yard, so I can make some extra money selling tickets to their fights. It might compensate for some of the stress they cause at least.
A little while later, Beast was in the kitchen and I forget what he did or said that made me look at him like I did, but I broke out the "mom stare". He stared back. After a few seconds of that he said "I guess what we have here is a good old-fashioned Mexican standoff." I continued to stare at him. Beast looked around and said "Wait, there are no Mexicans here. Let's go to Home Depot!" I continued to stare, attempting to retain the poker face, but it was failing. Comedians.
Monday, May 18, 2009
So, in preparation for that, and the fact that it's been 7 months since my last visit to LaNae's chair, I was overdue for a haircut. My hair was getting tied into a ponytail, or clipped somehow back off my face or up off my neck every day. That's a sure sign of my hair screaming for attention. I tried to go a couple weeks ago, but that whole bladder debacle topped off a day of screwy happenings, including missing my appointment with LaNae.
So here's the before picture.
Apparently RW likes to take pictures in a way that annoys the crap out of me, resulting in a surly expression on my face. There was also the fact that I was once again running late for my appointment with LaNae, after having spent the morning thinking way more than my pregnant brain should have been attempting. I don't do logistics in the morning, coffee or not.
I got there, and she asked how much was getting cut off today and pointed to the usual spot I have her cut my hair. I told her to go shorter in anticipation of the heat and general UGH that comes with the combination of a Florida summer and pregnancy. As usual, I never fail to look better after leaving LaNae's chair.
It also serves as my weekly belly picture that I've been doing during this pregnancy. I didn't get to do that with the other 3 kids - or at least I didn't think to do it, plus I would still have 20 rolls of undeveloped film sitting in a basket with those belly pictures on them anyway.
Devildog saw it, didn't like it and said it was too short. Clone saw it and got ticked because I didn't take her to get her hair cut too. RW saw it and said "ACK! It's short!" Beast hasn't seen it yet. I was crashed in my bed when he got home, and he himself has been asleep since he got in the door. I guess he's in the middle of a growth spurt or something.
In any case, I love it so far. I have actually contemplated getting my hair this short for a LONG time, but always chickened out for some reason. I don't know why, it's just hair and it grows back. I DO know that between heat, pregnancy and the work involved in getting a baby to exit my body, I needed it short.
At church today my dear friend E. sat next to us. It was nice to see her, she's been having some health issues, and teenage-son-becoming-adult-age issues and since I have your attention, keep this family in your prayers. Beast has been helping the ushers for quite some time now, and has pretty much been assimilated into their fold. It's prompted a lot of changes in him and his appearance at Mass. There were times he'd go play by the retention pond while I was at Mass, or he'd pitch a fit and sit in the bushes like a garden gnome (kid you not). He's gone from wearing wrinkled t-shirts and khakis to wearing less wrinkled collared shirts and khakis. Then he moved to dark pants and collared shirts. Then Clone's Godmother gave him a dress shirt and he snagged one of Devildog's ties. He outgrew that shirt fast enough and I had to buy him a bigger one. Then this week was the 8th grade semi-formal and he had to have a jacket to go. A sweet Salvation Army find, and on a day the blue and white tags were half off...$5 later, he has a jacket. So he was wearing that today as well, and lots of comments were shared on his new appearance. At one point, E. saw Beast and leaned over to Clone and asked "Is that your brother?"
Clone was busy filling out and doodling on her offering envelope, but looked up at E. and with a straight face, said "nope, I've never seen him before in my life."
When I asked what she said, and got the answer, I had a hard time containing my mirth. Do you know how difficult it is to not cackle during Mass?
Thursday, May 14, 2009
One of Clone's weekly assignments is to take her choice of 10 spelling words and create sentences with them. One of this week's words is "afford". The sentence she wrote using that word?
"I can't afford you a Gameboy."
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
What?? I told you I don't have a skillet.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
So I call the OB's office to let them know I'm going to be late. My Daddy taught me to do that because it's the courteous thing to do, and you wouldn't believe how surprised people are when you actually call and say "I'm running late". Thankfully they had a cancellation at 10:30 and I could still get my ultrasound, and be done in time to wait forever for my OB visit to follow up from the lovely adventure to the ER. So with Devildog and Clone in tow, we got to see the wiggly worm baby, and baby gave up the money shot - 3 lines, no bulging parts. So it's another girl - in case you didn't notice the change in the ticker color from a rainbow to pink.
Then I stopped back at that secondhand store to buy some snap-front onesies. I had a ton of them with Clone and they were an utter godsend if she had a blowout. If you've never changed a baby wearing a regular over-the-head onesie after a blowout diaper...ooh you're in for a treat. Blowouts+regular onesie = You're done for. Then I found a onesie with this design on it and immediately thought of Devildog's buddies. So I got it for the first time the guys get to meet the Stowaway. We'll see how many of them are paying attention.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Now, where I left off was what has prompted Kristin to call me Betsy-Wetsy - and Persnickety to promise never to let me live down such events.
The next day we went to Clearwater to play for the weekend. On the way down there though, we stopped in Bushnell to visit my mom's gravesite. I haven't ever been and I wanted to go at least once before Dad moves her up to the new VA cemetery being built in North Florida, that is so much closer. I would have liked some alone time for just 2 minutes, but by that point in the day, the kids were cabin-crazy and any unsupervised time was at risk for antics. We took some pictures and got back on the road. It's very quiet there, even when the landscapers were at work. We all know my penchant for quiet and how I crave it. On to our destination. As we got to the bay, all I could think was "wow the water is a beautiful turquoise", unlike the Atlantic Coast.
Someone rented sleeping quarters at a ... "quaint" condo on the inlet side of the beach where it was much quieter and actually really nice. They're an older set of buildings with a nice spankin new and sparkly high rise complex next to it. Red was giving directions to someone and said "you see the nice condos right there? Yea we're in the cheap seats next door." We were at the flamingo pink place. Absolutely respectable with full kitchens, a pool, and the on site managers always asked how we were doing when we passed them. I guess since I have nice things to say, I can tell you it was Coral Resort Condo in Clearwater Beach. It's a couple blocks from the ocean and there are lots of restaurants nearby. The beach has a covered playground and Clone said "I could play here ALL DAY!" She was not happy when we left but the pool made up for it.
I called Kristin and let her know I landed and we made arrangements for her to drive out to see me. I drove 4 hours to her neck of the woods and her aunt bagged on their weekend plans a few days before, so I was all too happy to force her to leave the house and socialize. Plus, she needed to rub my belly because I'm also all too happy to share my "fertility vibes" with anyone who desires to have it. I just look sideways at Devildog and get pregnant. Devildog joked about how he could help her achieve such goals, but it might require some hefty explanations since her husband is not geographically present at the moment.
Now, granted the company I was with wasn't exactly classy either. We have Devildog - self admitted redneck from the hood. Then there's Red, who is from New Hampshire, but apparently has been outside of the northeast enough that a gaggle of rednecks don't mind hanging with him. We've got a Michigan Redneck, plus a single guy who reeks of solo bachelorhood, our two resident lushes. We can trust these two guys to drink more than they should at any given gathering. There's J & K who got married last weekend. There's P. who just needs to know there's a plan of some kind, regardless of its ability to meet success or not. She, Devildog and I get along mostly because we just need to know what is going on and what the plan is. The other yayhoos are just fine flying by the seat of their pants 24/7.
So you get the bunch of us, and Clone, Beast and RW together...and it proves interesting. Having teenagers along was nice for trips to CVS to get things like film and supervising their little sister in the pool so I could rest in the AC. The kids absconded with the cameras (mine and Kristin's) and they got some good pictures. Granted the ones taken with her camera were way better because my camera is pretty low tech, is very much NOT user friendly, and I have been wanting a new one for months now. In the meantime, Red decided to up the ante on things and offered my boys cash money to cut their hair. So we have pictures of that stuff. I'm so glad Kristin was there to keep me company while I avoided the guys and their shenanigans. My boys do look so much better with haircuts, and I think they look a couple years older. Sad that a bunch of drunk guys were able to con my sons out of their hair.
But Kristin came with a mission in mind and that was accomplished. The drunken debauchery was a side perk, full of veritable entertainment that wasn't at my expense for a change.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
And I had to go to the ER for such antics, but only because the Dr's office was closed on a Friday afternoon! I was getting an oil change on the mom-bus and just sitting in the waiting area. I kept feeling like something was leaking randomly. It was a bit unnerving. I called my friend and she said I needed to call the doctor to be doubly sure that it wasn't an amniotic leak. The office was closed and the answering service had the nurse call me back. She told me that I should go to the ER to get checked. So I made a round of calls to make sure Clone got picked up from school, let Devildog know where I was heading, a friend to ride with me in case they kept me so she could drive my van home, and then a slew of friends to ask them to pray for us. Off I went, and was pretty much whisked in there and taken care of fairly quickly. Apparently ER's don't really like delivering babies - term or otherwise. Go figure. They did the pH swab test - negative. They did a urinalysis - clear. They did an ultrasound - and because of liability can't tell me ANY thing. She wasn't even allowed to show me the screen. I still have to wait till NEXT Friday the 8th to have the official scan. She did say that the baby has a strong heartbeat and the discharge report says that its around 150 beats per minute. She technically wasn't even allowed to say that but because I was feeling movement she felt safe to say that much. The official diagnosis is "stress incontinence". So basically the magic numbers of Baby #4, and 30-something Mom equals a bladder that said "screw you, and while we're at it, pee on ya too". Basically my bladder has decided it's no longer willing to hold its liquids and seal the exit till otherwise instructed. I get to keep my drawers lined and up the ante on the Kegels.
My poor husband was completely unnerved while he was at work and my friend Persnickety went with me while I went to get checked. I feel foolish for the ordeal, but it's far better to be safe than sorry. Persnickety delivered her 5 year old at 23 weeks and had been leaking fluid for a week prior and didn't realize it. I didn't want to do the same thing, especially since I'm 19 weeks. She also has a heart condition, and teased me saying she wasn't going to let me live down this adventure. Her commentary was "I go to the ER because my heart decides to stop functioning like it's supposed to, and YOU go to the ER because you wet your pants." We've known each other since 9th grade and teasing is nothing new to our friendship. Once again, I live up to the subtitle of my blog - Entertainment at my expense. At least I was able to entertain the ER staff. Nothing like yet another cranky patient to add to their day. I prefer to leave them smirking at the antics and commentary. Besides Persnickety and I hadn't seen each other in a while, so you know me, the drama queen, had to get her "Snick fix" and we needed to feed each other's snark. ANY excuse for a party right? Or in Persnickety's case, a colorful and descriptive blog post.
We're very relieved that it's this *lovely* stuff and not anything worse.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Well I looked at the clock and WOOPS, it was nearly time to go and I hadn't defunked from work yet. So off to the shower for scrubbing and relaxing. I was about 5 minutes from reaching relaxed, when there was a lot of punching and slamming of a door. I knew it was the boys. They got into a fisticuff on Saturday when I was up at the church serving lunch to the ladies at the retreat. I came home to a broken colander, trash can, and I'm afriad to even LOOK for anything else. I was essentially yanked out of the shower between rinsing conditioner and soaping my pits. I was at least able to shave my legs, while I can still reach them. They were fighting over TV programming. I told them if they got into another fight I was going to call the cops, because I'm just not going to deal with that crap. Plus it's the 2nd fight in just a few days (Saturday, then Wednesday), both times in front of their little sister. Plus if they are going to throw punches, do it in the yard. At least nothing in the house will get broken. I'd sell tickets for the neighbors to watch. Most of the time I spent sitting in the church parking lot was uncomfortable because the stress sent my belly into a tizzy. It took a while for things to settle down finally.
I came home and rested some more, made some chicken noodle soup from the stash of stock I had in the freezer, and RW carted Clone off to bed for me. I was Wanda Whiner at that point. My aunt R told me she was changing my name. She did say that admittedly it was a difficult day for me, and I had permission to whine for a while, but I couldn't let it go on forever. Then I made the error of checking my email and boards while on the phone with her.
The worst email of the day came saying my friend from my CRHP team that I thought about earlier in the day died right around the time I was thinking of her. Please keep the Ashmore family in your thoughts and prayers. Aimee had such incredible faith and she inspired me with her joy and smile, even in the face of challenge. It certainly put a lot of my day into perspective.
Then-I checked my boards on iVillage. One of the girls on my expecting club board was in danger of losing her little boy at 22 weeks because the placenta wasn't doing it's job properly. The blood flow to the baby was not good enough to keep him going till at least 24 weeks. We were holding out hope she could hang onto him till then. Vincent Patrick couldn't keep fighting any longer. It makes my heart break for her and her family. Here I am, I just look sideways at my husband and BOOM I get pregnant. Yet there are others that just struggle to GET pregnant and have to fight to STAY pregnant. It doesn't seem fair.
By the time Devildog got home from work, I was a mess of snot and tears. He listened to me whine a few minutes actually said something that wasn't caveman commentary, and was nice to me. I listened to him download his day, which wasn't a cakewalk for him to deal with the nonsense and BS a retail job hands a person.
In a word, my day was just woeful yesterday and it sucked. So today I haven't done much so far except sleep late. Thankfully Clone was helped to get ready this morning by the big brother and Devildog took her to school. I got up from the bed sometime closer to lunch than breakfast. I accompanied Devildog to the barber and we had lunch together. It was just nice to spend some time with him that didn't include kids, friends, or stress. Although, there was a guy at the counter sniping about the price of his milkshake and being a general bag of butt about it. It bemused me to hear Peggy, the lady at the counter, turn to her manager as the manager came to smooth feathers, and say "It's fine hon, he's been drinking. I can smell it on him." And Peggy, God love her, was not quiet about it, because practically every head in the place turned to see what Peggy was talking about when she said it. Yesterday was one of those days that if I wasn't pregnant, I would've been drinking. Nothing like a Whalers Vanille Rum and Dr Pepper to take the edge off a non-pregnant woeful Wednesday. But for now? It would be a Water Wednesday. No rum for me-woeful or otherwise.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
So, I'm out at the OB's office for my monthly checkup and while I'm driving, I see dh's friend who is hosting the party. I called to harass Red about the contents of his truck bed, but he didn't answer. I was trolling a second hand shop (that is now on my monthly 'must stop' list of places) to scope out baby and mommy stuff when Red called me back. He clarified the story for me, saying J & K were "pulling the trigger" because there's a group trip to the beach next weekend, so they're using that as their honeymoon. Red went on to say that J & K were going to originally have pizza at the party and he put a stop to that, because every redneck has to have a certain standard, and pizza was below his standard. So it was being catered by a BBQ place instead of a pizza joint. As I re-read that I suddenly started hearing Gretchen Wilson's "Redneck Woman" in my head....specifically that part about "high class broad". I know J & K enough to know that her father won't have to announce the nuptuals like this guy did.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Meanwhile, I have the stowaway being all parasitic and stuff. Lil bugger's bones are ossifying around this time according to the developmental ticker thing that isn't humorous like the one I posted at the top of the page. So that means I'm craving a lot of cheese, and SLEEP. I keep telling my people that growing a human takes a lot of energy. I am guessing that ossifying bones is super energy zapping because it seems like this whole past week, ALL I want to do is sleep. OK, so I do want to get up and clean and do things, but seriously, I lack the extra oomph. I need that extra oomph to get past my small speedbump when I sit on the floor or a low chair. So my nesting urge is screaming, but my body yawns. I was in the bed asleep when Devildog came home from work today. He asked if I was ok - I guess the way I was laying in the bed wasn't usual for me. I told him that I was fine, just super tired, that baby's bones are forming and it's zapping me. He grunted. You know, that code for "yea right"? I said "Hey, growing a human takes lots of energy out of me."
"I think you just tell me that because I can't prove it." See? Oldest isn't 100% exactly like me, he's got his father's snark too.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
So, for all that, she's my hero, and an awesome friend.
This past week has been uber busy with 4 resets and 4 service calls. However, I've done enough of them, that I have been doing them faster and faster. It sucks for my paycheck but since I just want to get them done and get out of there, it's good for my mental health. I may have broken a company record Thursday by getting the most recent reset done in 2 hours 35 minutes. If nothing else, I broke a personal record and probably a district record. The resets were slated to take six hours, and thankfully my district coordinator came up with a placement chart for the plastic shelf tags that speeds the process up by at least an hour or two. But in all of this, I was really tired and worn out this week. I took lots of breaks so I wouldn't overdo things. I drank plenty of water. And when I went shopping Friday for the groceries I'd need for the weekend, I used the fart cart in all three stores I visited. And I got the "lazy skinny broad" stares from people. I'll also be glad when people stop telling me that I don't LOOK pregnant. Surely I FEEL every bit of it, including what seems to be some pointy feet in some tender internal parts this morning. Oh gee, won't *I* be the life of the party instead of my 50 year old sister.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
The rest of my errands after the space age dental scraping and no x-ray cavity inspection included Target. In the parking lot, the woman I parked next to was loading her loot and her infant in the baby bucket in the Nissan Xterra. No big deal right? Well this baby maker was buckling the baby seat in facing forward. FORWARD, as in not the way the seat was intended, nor the way federal law mandates infants face in a car. I said "I think the seat is backwards." and she just looked at me like "what the hell do you know." And how much do you want to bet that if she gets into an accident and something happens to her child, she's going to be first in line to sue the car seat manufacturer. Why? Because apparently a representative from the carseat company wasn't there to hold a gun to her head and make her turn the bleeping seat around to face the rear. Wait, but didn't she read all the idiot clauses on the seat, the box, the printed materials, in her vehicle's owners manual? I'd bet not. Once again, Darwin fails to open that back door of the waiting room, and it still overflows.