The Hot Spot

It's certainly different with three children. My lap is the hot spot, with each child competing for their share of my lapfront property. Of course the newborn has top dibs, but my son and daughter are equally quick to snatch their opportunities as well. I have never felt so popular. Fortunately my scar is pretty much healed over now, and the bruises are mostly gone. This helps enormously when my son, who is quite a bruiser (a solid, stocky build--this kid will always be BIG), clambers up on my lap like he's conquering a steel playgym frame. Whereas previously such activity would cause me grimace and squirm away from his digging toes, now I am slightly more prepared.

I am having a harder time refraining from picking up my two eldest children when they need something. Yesterday I picked up our 45 lb daughter because she fell and hurt herself on the backyard playground. I've picked up our 42 lb son (and he's 2 years younger than our oldest daughter...I told you, this kid is big) several times to help him into his carseat and into a stroller or shopping cart. All of which is supposed to be verboten still, as we are only at the 2.5 week mark since my c-section. I admit to having a bit of trepidation about things settling back into their proper places internally. It seems to be taking longer for certain postpartum symptoms to subside than it did last time, but then again it's not as if I took notes! It does not help to have folks chastising me about such things as well. Please, you explain to our two year old why Mommy, the closest adult, cannot help him into his carseat and such.

I remember that our eldest daughter (I am still having to get used to this, the whole "eldest" bit is easy to forget) had the same reaction to her new baby brother. She used to get upset when I couldn't help her do something, and she definitely displayed the same type of jealousy that we are seeing with our son. I have yet to hear "When does he go back to the hospital?" that we heard from DD, but he's been quite vociferous in telling me to "Put Baby Jane down!" and demanding his share of my lap. He doesn't quite understand that when she's eating, well, she's eating and there really aren't any options for putting her down at that particular point in time.

On the other hand, he is quite an attentive brother and will give her toys that make music or alert us when she fusses. Our eldest has been quite the little mama, too, and is quite keen to hold her baby sister and give her toys and blankets, etc. Neither one of them is shy about asking where she is when they can't see her, and it seems to be unacceptable to not show her various things, such as pictures they draw or favorite toys.

My in-laws are in residence now and they are mucking in outside, in the absolute mess that is my garden. They've already weeded one bed and started on the next, and have purchased two roses for me, plus a sedum. I think by the time they leave my gardens will be drenched in water, compost, and happy attention. Good thing, too, as I haven't had much of any of that to spare, except for the guilt-induced watering I have done to keep things minimally alive. My master gardener neighbor dropped off some columbine and ferns for me yesterday, so more work awaits. I will be asking my OB about doing some light gardening at my appointment Wednesday, but until then I am benched. Some things never change, though, and thus I probably need to go and fold the mountain of clothes on my bed before my newest child decides she is unhappy in her swing. But it's a nice cool day, all of my children are happy at this moment, and my husband is back to work and wading through a mass of emails. Life is good. Thank you God!

C-Section Recovery

There are a few things about birth and the whole messy aspects of it that are really things that one cannot fully appreciate until one experiences them. Therefore in the interest of avoiding the gross-out, ick factor, I am putting in a disclaimer that this might contain more information than you want to know about c-sections and how they are done, etc. Suffice it to say that I do not feel too much sympathy for you, dear reader, unless you too have been fortuitous enough to have this information imparted to you personally as your insides are open and being worked on by surgeons discussing their plans for the weekend. In any case, you have been adequately forewarned.

I confess I had forgotten some things about the whole c-section process and recovery from the last time I went down this particular primrose pathway. Because it was somewhat traumatic last time, despite being a planned c-section for my son, I think my brain had dumped some crucial information and put a decidedly dark haze on the rest. So while I felt somewhat calm ahead of this one, and knew what to expect, there were decidedly aspects of the surgery and aftermath that I had completely expunged from my memory banks. In the interest of educating anyone who might be faced with this in the future, and reminding myself should we get surprised with a #4, here are a few tidbits about this surgery.

• The anesthesia is really not so bad. Last time I had an epidural, and this time I got a spinal block. I looooooove the spinal block. Oh, sooooooo much better than the epidural. First, you get to walk into the OR yourself, which is somehow more dignified than being wheeled in with your lower half numb and being manhandled onto the operating table. Second, you get the same local anesthesia shots in your back (the worst part, really), but the needle used for a spinal block is SO much smaller than the epidural needle, and I could not feel anything, no pressure at all. My toes started to get warm and tingly and I was able to put them on the table myself. Lastly, it wore off much faster than the epidural. I was already starting to wiggle my toes on my left foot while I was waiting for my bed and transfer back to the recovery room. I do not like the sensation of wanting to move my legs and not being able to, so having the anesthesia wear off faster was a big plus in my book.
• The lower back pain during the surgery, that is not so good. I told my anesthesiologist about this and (you were warned!) he told me it was because they had my uterus outside my body and were tugging on it, and it would feel better once they put it back in. Yeah. May I just say that I did NOT need the visual to accompany the lower back pain? Bad enough that they have an organ outside my body, I did not need to know that my body was telling me "this is bad" despite the heavy anesthesia.
• Despite thirst and hunger immediately resuming post-surgery, I was reminded in the most vivid manner possible of the "nausea" that my DH and mom remembered from my last c-section but which I had blissfully eliminated from my memory banks. I was feeling good and motoring along past the ice chips and water, TYVM, and had dived into the popsicles and Jello I was being allowed to eat. A few bites of Jello did not seem to sit well, so I laid off the Jello and had a second popsicle a few hours later. Suffice it to say it did not take long for it to come back to say hello, along with everything else that I had consumed post-surgery. So I spent a long night with only ice chips and water for sustenance...which brings me to:
• Don't believe them when they say you will only be without food for 8 hours. Ha! More like 24 hours! It's a very good thing I had a big breakfast right before my 8 hour "nothing by mouth" period began, because I was not allowed to eat anything substantial until breakfast the following morning--and then I had to push for it. I had a big bowl of real oatmeal (whole oats, cooked slowly) with cream and brown sugar and fresh blueberries, strawberries, and apples, and it did carry me over quite nicely to surgery, as well as being kind to my system. I had blueberry pancakes afterward and they were quite nice too. Of course hunger is the best seasoning there is! Mercifully no repeat of any other nausea, but those first few hours post-surgery are a real kicker.
• The incisions are not the source of post-surgical pain, for the most part. No, this is the provenance of the massive bruises on your tissues inflicted by the retractors and tugging, etc. Aside from the typical stretching/pulling from the incision, I haven't had anything to complain about on that front. My pressure dressing came off quite readily in the hospital when I had my first post-surgery shower (oh, the bliss!) and my DH pointed out that I had several large "purple grape colored bruises" around it, and that was probably the source of pain for me. Now I have been informed that they have faded to a "luminous green", 9 days post-surgery (I can't really see them that well myself, just the top of two of them). Nothing like having a real rainbow tummy to show for a birth.
• Painkillers are a blessing and a curse. I was again prescribed Percocet for my pain, plus horse-size ibuprofen pills. The Percocet were much appreciated for the first three days, but after that I hated the decidedly loopy spin that they put on everything for me, and I resisted taking them as much as possible. (And there are people out there that LIKE that feeling and abuse these drugs?? This I do not understand...) Now I am about three days out from taking any Percocet, and have also resisted the ibuprofen, relying instead on one dose of Tylenol at bedtime.
• Sleep is the best healer of all. I have had some really long nights of sleep for the past two nights, and have felt much better in the morning than I did the previous week. Of course sleep in the hospital is always a cut-up business, between the nurses coming in to check me and then to check the baby. But even at home, I was not able to really doze off whenever, because I had my parents asking things, or doing things that required some form of input, or our children were all over me because I was HOME and they wanted my attention too (really Mom it's not just about that new little baby, there's ME too and I need you NOW Mommyyyyyyy...). However, my parents went to visit my brother and his family for a few days, and our friends were giving us our space and resisting visits, so I've had a chance to just be and do absolutely nothing other than sleep in until 9 am and go to bed (and sleep!) at 8 pm, and it's been WONDERFUL.
• Every time something else was removed from my body post-surgery or I was given the all-clear to do something, it felt like I was reclaiming a piece of myself. I was moving away from "SciencePhDMom, hospital patient" to just "SciencePhDMom". Getting up and walking around, getting the catheter removed, being allowed to drink and eat, having my first shower and getting rid of that dressing and smelling like ME instead of calcium gluconate pre-surgery wipes...all of these things helped me feel more like ME. And it was good to finally bid the IV goodbye. I will be so happy when that little circular scab finally falls off my wrist.

I must reiterate that if anyone has a choice, there is really no contest and a vaginal birth is the absolute best way for a baby to be born. However, I am very grateful that we have c-sections for medically needed interventions, and obstetricians and hospitals well-trained in how to do them well and as safely as possible for mom & baby. I do not understand opting for a c-section if there is no medical reason to do so, as my sister-in-law did for both of her sons. I really honestly do not understand it. I am not putting her down or anyone else down who has opted for this, but I just cannot wrap my head around such a thing. Having experienced both, the recovery from a vaginal birth is so much easier (and that even with an episiotomy). I could be driving now. I would not have these bruises and pains and long list of verboten actions, such as even lifting up my two year old son (who frankly still does not understand why this is so). And I have to go with the vaginal birth as the way God intended it to be, KWIM? Women's bodies are designed to birth their babies, period.

Anyhow, that is the subject for another post, exploring the vast antagonism and gulf that exists in the good ol' USA today between the natural birth movement (ever heard of "The Business of Being Born"?) and obstetrical care & culture. Having been torn between the two camps and placed in a decidely uncomfortable position between>>>ROCK<<<>>>>HARD PLACE<<<<, I have a few thoughts on that subject. That will have to wait until I am feeling more myself, however. And in case you haven't seen her, here is a link to a few shots of my newest family member:

http://www.dropshots.com/stbridgit#date/2009-07-24/05:48:22

My sweet baby Jane. She is worth it all. :)

The Tablecloth

There really is something to sitting down together around the dining table for dinner every night. It's civilized, it teaches the kids table manners, and it helps us stick to our meal plan (it's not quite the same thing to sit down at the dinner table to some take-out pizza, know what I'm saying?).

Now that second little point is a big one, really. No one wants their kids to be slobs at the table, and no one wants their kids to be those kids at a restaurant, running around with straws stuck up their noses or throwing food on the floor. However, getting from the '2 year old and big enough to sit in a real chair (with a booster) and eat like everyone' to 'well mannered, polite 6 year old that everyone compliments when dining in public' is a big transition. Right now our 4 year old daughter is pretty good at the table. She backslides when her brother is being naughty and she eggs him on, and she forgets that the principal purpose of sitting down to eat dinner is to eat dinner, not entertain us with stories and made-up songs and theatrical hand flares that endanger the nearest beverage glasses. But she doesn't throw food on the floor, she doesn't spit out food if she decides halfway through chewing it that she doesn't like it, and she doesn't fling her hands around, knocking over anything in their path.

Our son...well, he does do all of those things. He's two. And, I swear, EVERY NIGHT the boy spills his drink. EVERY NIGHT. It does not matter where I put his cup, or how carefully I watch him so that I can grab it and move it before a vigorous hand wave topples it over. Somehow, each evening, the boy manages to spill his beverage on the table.

Now, I have discovered that, in addition to my pet peeve about always having clean fingernails (let me just say that I will never go camping without running water again), I don't like having a dirty tablecloth. The tablecloth is one of those civilizing elements of dinner together. It's like a stately butler, bidding all to behave at table. Somehow having a permanently stained and perpetually damp-within-minutes tablecloth really put a damper on my enjoyment of the whole dinner ritual. I had two "everyday" tablecloths that were purchased on the cheap and had lasted us for about seven years. However, they have not been able to withstand the onslaught wrought by our children. The pale green tablecloth now has a distorted yellow spot covering about ten percent of the middle, and the white & burgundy one is dotted with dark stains and some large blots.

It was time to upgrade the table linens, friends. I bought two new "everyday" tablecloths at Kohls, one of which is a microfiber tablecloth. Aha! Something my children should not (in theory) be able to stain! Yippee!

Well, my son is putting this tablecloth through its paces. Both of our kids have placemats, in an attempt to rein in the stainmaking potential at their places. Despite his beloved "Cars" being plastered all over his placemat, my son still has an uncanny knack for pushing it back just enough so that he can spill with abandon on the tablecloth itself. Tonight he dumped a full glass of milk (and please note that two year olds ALSO think they are too OLD for sippy cups, Mommy!) on it, and that beaded right up on the tablecloth like it was nothing. We were impressed. However, I think the everlasting piece of genius has to go to DH, who in a moment of inspiration swapped our son's placemat for a Shamwow. Yes, he is a genius (particularly because my dad sent them to us from their Costco pack and I hadn't a clue what we could use them for). I think they should make themed placemats out of that stuff. Now our son's place at the table has a generous lip that runs off the table, and plenty of coverage to either side. He could spill milk and other food repeatedly and still it will not touch the tablecloth.

A double armor system, that is what it takes. That, and lots of wine and humor. And Wine Away stain remover. It's not just for wine, my friends. It works on a lot of other kid mangling stains. You too could make an "everyday" tablecloth last for seven plus years, even WITH table training kids. I dare you.

Of Divas and Dogs

We have a new discipline problem confronting us with DD. I don't know how many of my few readers have a strong-willed child, but our daughter is STRONG-WILLED. Lately she has had bad temper tantrums where she completely loses control of herself, banging at the walls of her room and repeating the same promise incessantly to do better, to listen, to do X like we asked her to, etc. No matter how many times we tell her that she is choosing the hard way, she continues to choose it. She seems to think that she is free to ignore what we tell her if she doesn't want to do it, and no amount of post-punishment explaining of our reasons for telling her to do something makes any difference in her decision to willfully defy us. This is not unexpected--she is 4, she is not able to reason. However, DH & I think that she ought to figure out that we are consistent in the expectation that she do what she's told, and she is consistently punished for not doing so, and she's a smart kid...surely she ought to figure out that she could have a much easier existence if she just did what she was told when she is told to do it.

Unfortunately I think that we are still applying too much logic to the situation. She is told to do something that she doesn't want to do, often in direct contradiction to what she wants to do. Because she does not understand why we don't want her to do it, I presume she decides our commands are less important than her wants, and she disobeys. Perhaps it's not even that clear-cut--she sees something she wants to do, she does it, and to hell with the consequences.

DH and I have noticed a clear correlation between incredibly poor behavior choices and daycare. When she is in daycare, she comes home with this incredibly bad attitude and nasty disobedience. When she is not in daycare, as she wasn't during spring break and for most of this week due to a cold, she has a day of being corrected and then she gets back into our expectations and behaves herself. I think part of it may be the attitude of her new daycare teacher. She told me that "all the little girls in her class come out little divas". Um, I don't want a diva, I want my daughter. I sincerely hope that it's not directly the teacher, but more the other kids and the fact that the teacher can't possibly be monitoring every behavior all the time.

Our dog is also still learning, just as we are still learning about her. I had a good time today taking her to obedience class. She has started nipping and jumping at me in the yard when she wants to play, as well as tugging on my pant leg with her teeth or trying to nip at my ankles. The trainer suggested standing still, because it clearly communicates, "you're boring me" to the dog and they will give up. We were doing a high pitched "yelp" the way another dog would, to get her to stop the ankle nipping, but that wasn't as effective. Now we have to teach the kids how to do the same thing. Fortunately she is displaying typical puppy behaviors, where she is not really biting but she is mouthing. This is scary to our kids, especially our son. He is closest to her size and it's really important that the dog learns not to do this. As with everything else puppy-related, it is a question of consistency and time. She will outgrow that behavior eventually and we just have to be patient.

Our son is enjoying wearing big boy underwear now when he's at home. This has resulted in many puddles and otherwise droopy drawers, such that sometimes my husband and I aren't clear whose piddle or poop we are cleaning up! However, he, too, is learning and getting better. He managed to keep a pair clean all morning today, pulling them down twice to use the potty and actually putting them back on. Hopefully this means he finally comprehends that we don't change our underwear twenty times a day to see a new character whenever we peek at our underwear. Likewise he has discovered that that hole in the front of his underwear is pretty cool--much cooler than wearing the underwear backwards so he can see the big print design.

Progress in some areas and not in others--the story of my life!!

Cool Jobs

On our way to daycare this morning, we got stopped at a red light next to a cement truck, which inspired much pointing and shouting, "Mama, twuck! Seh-mahn twuck!" from DS and a discussion of how the cement was inside the rolling drum, turning around and around until it was ready to be used. DD & DS were both vastly entertained watching the drum spin around and around, and I realized that certain jobs have a cachet for kids that is lost for grown-ups.

For example, a fire truck never fails to inspire comment from both of our kids, as do ambulances, cherry pickers, cranes, "bobbies" (any form of construction equipment, be it diggers, excavators, etc). Likewise the guys who are up in the cherry picker trimming trees or working on power lines are viewed with a certain awe by kids. Anything where the person is up high or using a big machine will never cease to be cool to little ones.

Similiarly, anyone who gets to use neat equipment or make big noises has a cool job. Even the garbage man has a cool job to kids. He drives this neat truck with a special lift on it and he gets to stop whenever he likes and use flashing lights. Ditto the street sweeper, or the schoolbus driver. Schoolbuses never fail to inspire comments, as they might be carrying other kids inside and thus are worthy of great scrutiny and speculation about where they are going. Are they coming from school, or going to school?

The fire truck and police cars at the county fair were nearly as a big a hit as the rides for our kids, I think. The police cars and motorcycles were littered with neat lights and sirens and equipment, and the fire truck has all the bells and whistles (literally) that you could imagine. All hot stuff to young children, and all the people who work in them are just cool, in a way that kids get and adults sometimes forget.

I have decided that if it's a cool job to a kid, it has to be a cool job forever. I mean, what job could be better than having little kids point at you in awe or keep a fervent watch for your vehicle while they are being towed around town by their parents? Those types of jobs can never lose their 'cool' cachet. Impressing children has to count for something even when you're old enough to be annoyed at being caught behind the street sweeper. After all, a lot of those jobs have precious few perks to adults, might as well enjoy the adulation that comes from the pint-sized perspective!

My Mother Will Never Die

I was chatting with some friends on Sunday about parenting and the difference in perspective when you are actually the parent, instead of the child. My friends are at various stages of life and their kids' ages reflect that, so it's fun to talk about what changes and what stays the same as your kiddos grow up. And one of my friend's kids was listening to our conversation. As it happens this young lady is 14 and a full-blown teenager, and after we were all chuckling about something I asked her, "I'll bet you think your parents make lots of mistakes, huh?" She just laughed (as did her mom) and I said, "You don't have to tell us, but we all know--you're going to do things differently when YOU'RE the mom, right?" She said, "Oh yeah."

LOL! How well I remember saying the same thing as a teenager. I knew exactly what my parents were screwing up with regard to my upbringing (and my siblings'), and by golly *I* would never say/do what they did! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! As proof of God's great sense of humor, here are a few things I have found myself saying which I distinctly recall swearing I would NEVER SAY as a mom.

• Do I need to stop this car and pull over?
• How many times do I have to tell you to {do X}?
• Are you listening to me?
• If you do that one more time, you'll be sorry! (talk about an empty threat...the most meaningless threat of punishment there is the unexplained punishment)
• Don't make me come in there!
• There are hungry children who would be grateful to eat that dinner. (again, totally meaningless...because any smart child will instantly offer to give it to them!)
• Because I said so, that's why.
• Stop teasing your brother. (says the woman who used to tease HER brother)
• If these toys aren't cleaned up in five minutes I'm throwing them away. (to be fair it's usually DH who says this...I put toys into time-out if they aren't tidied up)
• This is your last chance.

I know there are more which I can't remember right now. And as our kids get older, more and more old chestnuts that I used to hate hearing as a kid will be spouting forth from my lips. Is it any wonder my parents are so well entertained when they visit us? Payback is hell!

The Delusion of Child Messes

When you become a parent, somehow you think that you are going to find better ways to do everything. You will do a better job of introducing your kids to healthy foods. You will get them to voluntarily pick up their rooms. You will avoid the annoying toys and the extremely messy/dirty activities, or manage to contain them. You are sure you can do all of this and remain sane.

Play Doh will be kept in separate colors so it won't turn into the perennial gray green that every tub of playdoh at daycare or church becomes two seconds after it is opened. YOUR children will only play with it on a designated table only, and you will not let it get tracked or moved all over the house. You say to yourself, "Well, if I buy this cute little sandpit with a cover, the kids won't get sand everywhere and it will stay dry." You even splurge for the extra high walls to prevent sand creeping onto your lawn. What you don't think about is the fact that instead of worrying about sand escaping at will as your children play, you should be worrying about how much will make its way into your house in the form of sandy hands, bodies, and clothing.

Well, I'm here to vouch for the fact that it's just not possible to avoid or even contain messes. Even if you try to avoid messy toys or games, your kids will find them by themselves. And even when you think you have a toy that is contained to a certain season, think again! I thought with our sand table being put away for the winter, our children would be forced to amuse themselves with the plethora of fall leaves and sticks on the lawn, and all the cool creatures crawling around in the leaf litter. Well, I was partly right. They did entertain themselves with that for about half an hour, then they went back to their (wet) Jeep and other stuff by the house. Fine. I was occupied raking leaves from our 100 ft plus big leaf maple, so as long as they weren't killing each other, I was happy. Then I heard the scream and crying, and saw from my decent distance away that my son had a dirty face. I thought it was dirt. Yeah. No, it was play sand...wet play sand at that. DD had shoved/thrown it in his face. When I asked her why she did that, she said, "I wanted a sand fight." *ahem*

One time-out for DD, shower for DS (remember that bit about clothing with sand? Well, add in a cloth DIAPER full of sand), clean clothes, and chill-out nursing session later, and everyone is happy again. Except that I had to sweep up tons of sand from my bedroom and bathroom floor, and I haven't finished rinsing the sand down the sink drain or shower drain yet. I had to change my clothes after wrestling DS out of his, so yet another laundry load is in the wash.

And that Play Doh? Well, after holding out for nearly four years and insisting that DD only play with one color at a time, I finally threw caution to the wind while DH was gone last week and let the kids play with five colors at once. And you know what, it was okay. They don't mind the gray green, and they had a blast with their rainbow Play Doh while it lasted. And really it didn't matter what color it was, I still had about a bazillion dried out pieces to vacuum and sweep up after they were done. I guess I've just realized that childhood is supposed to be messy...I can try to keep it contained most of the time, but I wouldn't want to have a spotless house if it meant my kids didn't enjoy their toys and their messes. Have dustpan, will parent!

Tour De Potties

Well, the sticker chart did the trick for DD. Using the potty is now de rigeur, and it's quite accepted that when she wakes up in the morning, we put on 'big girl panties' and that's how she spends all day. No accidents, she is doing really well!

The downside is what I am calling the Tour De Potties. DD is now fascinated by how different public restrooms can be. She absolutely loves checking out the different toilet paper holders, and whether a stall has seat covers or not. Handwashing is a whole different set of things to explore: some faucets turn themselves on and off, others require lifting a lever, others are knobs...and the soap varieties! Liquid soap! Foamy soap! Even one place with soap flakes! Who knew it could be so fascinating?? She dislikes the hand dryers ("they're too noisy Mommy, I don't like it") but loves the motion sensing paper towel dispensers. She hasn't figured out how the center 'pull' towel dispensers work yet, probably because her hands are usually too wet to grasp and pull effectively.

I did not anticipate this side of potty training. I was expecting to stop more frequently at public restrooms, but was totally unprepared for the sense of wonder my DD experiences when she gets to use a different public toilet. She just can't get over how many things are done differently in each place! So now we are subjected to, "I need to go pooooottyyyyy," whenever we are in a store where, coincidentally, she has never used the bathroom before. Hmmmmmmm. We are still in that delicate place where we don't want to discourage using the bathroom, but when my DD chooses to make this proclamation just as I've finished putting all the groceries and her brother in the car, well, it's a bit more dodgy to get everyone organized and back inside for the sole purpose of using the restroom.

I am trying to be more proactive about this, and ask her as we enter the store if she needs to go. And of course she gets a mandatory pit stop before leaving the house. When presented with these requests, I find myself gauging how long ago she finished her chocolate milk and how far we are from home, coupled with the relative new-ness of the store, etc. Should we go? Will she make it home? Questions I had not anticipated as part of this whole process. And sometimes I am boldly telling her she will have to wait until we get home, and praying we make it. So far, so good.

Yet another reminder that the world is a whooooooole different place to a (nearly) three year old. *LOL*

Medical Mistake

I was referred for a thyroid scan due to an enlarged thyroid. Not a big deal, something that is relatively common, right? Except, my doctor forgot to note that I am breastfeeding my son, 9 months old. And the clinic personnel didn't ask. And I, unforgivably, did not think to look up the potential side effects of radioactive iodine on breastmilk until AFTER I had taken the d#$n pills! And guess what??? It's concentrated in breastmilk!!!

I was extremely upset after reading this (naturally), and a flurry of phone calls ensued between me and my doctor's office. First they said to pump and dump for 48 hours. Then they said they spoke to the chief radiologist and it wasn't really necessary to pump and dump, the percentages that were expressed in breastmilk were so small, but to be conservative I could pump and dump for 24 hours. And then they called my pediatrician for me and she recommended pumping and dumping for 24 hours.

What followed that evening can only be described as sheer hell, as I listened to my son wailing non-stop for me, then escalate to screaming non-stop for over an hour, even with my husband holding him. AND I COULDN'T NURSE HIM. I just really cannot express in words the sheer hellishness of knowing your child is crying FOR YOU and you can't give him what he needs. We gave him milk that I had frozen (fortunately, as with no warning I hadn't had a chance to prepare a stash of stored milk) but he just needed the comfort of nursing. I ended up nursing him 16+ hours after taking the I¹²³, because I figured out that he would not be getting much at that point, based on some journal articles I found online. (Thank God for my degree!)

My son tossed and turned all night, woke repeatedly crying, and in general was inconsolable until I was finally able to nurse him. Then all was well with his world again.

What is really p!ssing me off about this whole thing is that after researching this online, I find that post-partum thyroiditis is common and can last up to 18 months postpartum! Eighteen months!! So I didn't even need to have this test! It could have waited until my son was weaned! They could have just checked my TSH levels in my blood occasionally and if it was still present at 18 months postpartum, THEN we could have gone down this road. So my son and I went through this for no good reason!

And, I am really pissed off that there was no standard information sheet given to me about this radioactive iodine, nor was I required to sign any permission form, nothing that might have said, "Tell your doctor if you are pregnant or breastfeeding." Heck, my doctor KNEW I was breastfeeding, and still sent me for this test (a mistake!). And the technician administering the test didn't even ask if I was pregnant! Not one check before I could have been giving my kid potentially damaging doses of radioactivity straight to his tiny thyroid gland. Thank the Lord I looked it up, because I then knew the seriousness and that if I had nursed him 6 hours after taking it, he would have gotten a significant dose of radiation! Come on!

I am going to be following up on this with the clinic and my doctor. They assured me they will be changing all their literature to ensure it doesn't happen again, but my point is, what literature? I wasn't given anything, I was not asked to sign anything. So they really need to do some serious retraining, because someone else could have done this and then gone home and merrily dosed their little baby up with radioactive iodine. What if it was a smaller baby, or a relative newborn, or a baby with some immune-compromising disorder? I mean, COME ON PEOPLE!!! I don't intend to sue them, but there had better be more that comes out of this than some rapid heinie-covering behavior with me on the phone and absolutely zero follow up the next day. They were supposed to call a lactation consultant and get back to me with her advice, too, but I haven't heard a d@mn thing back about that. Hello?

As you can tell, I am still very upset about the whole thing. For something so important to be missing, well, that's a huge problem. I just don't want anyone else to have to go through this, and I don't want some little baby to be exposed to something when it's so easily prevented. And I don't like knowing I was sent for a test that I probably didn't need to have right now, which caused such excruciating pain for me and my son. I pumped ELEVEN OUNCES of breastmilk from one side within an hour that night, and I STILL had a hard spot and some symptoms of mastitis that night. I was not happy. I'm still not happy. I'd better see some real changes and concern from this clinic, or I'm going to be talking to the director.

Would This Be Acceptable...

...to the Department of Health? I find myself asking this question when I peruse the state of my kickboard under the kitchen cabinets. I am quite sure that most days the Department of Health would not certify my kitchen "A", given that I routinely have bits of stuff in that annoying under cabinet space where my vacuum cleaner does not reach and I have to use the wand attachment to clean out. And frankly this only happens every three weeks or so, when I ask myself "the Department of Health" question and thereby convince myself of the necessity for vacuuming my cabinet kickplate space.

Of course you think to yourself that "people will notice!" when your house is dirty, but the reality is that most people probably don't notice, and I've been looking at other people's homes to reassure myself of this fact. When company is coming not everyone has the entire house spic and span. Mind you, most of the people we know have their house significantly less cluttered and decidedly minimalist, but I am afraid you'll have to give me another decade or so to unlearn ingrained family clutterbug tendencies.

I think most people have their hot button things that they can't have dirty when company comes. As I discovered during my recovery from DS' birth, my MIL cannot abide cluttered surfaces, and swept all of our clutter into bags for her own personal sanity in advance of guests arriving. Personally I don't like having dirty toilets when company is coming. If my commodes are less than spic and span, I am not a happy camper. I can tolerate dirty floors to a degree if they are freshly vacuumed, and can even tolerate mildly dirty floors in need of vacuuming. I absolutely cannot have dirty dishes in the sink or a dirty stovetop. Kickplate space I can ignore as a general rule if I had to vacuum in a hurry. Likewise clutter is completely not on my radar.

I've been lucky today because both of our urchins tolerated a good vacuuming with reasonable good humor, although their beneficence in the behavior arena did not extend long enough for me to clean the birdcage. And now that I really need to fold about 4 loads of laundry and put them away, of course DS is being, well, bratty. He is insisting on conking his head on every surface, has spilled stale urine from DD's training potty (the potty itself awaits DH's cleaning attention, as I get so P!$$ed, haha, that he has the nasty habit of not emptying it promptly after she uses it), and is in general being an Obnoxious Teething Monster. DD is being very good, and has drawn a lovely collage of faces for me. Apart from the fact that she is in a PullUp after having yet another accident, she is doing good.

Now the plan! I'm going to fold laundry when DH gets home, sans children. My own little 30 minutes of child-free time, watching a snippet of "Pride and Prejudice" for the umpteenth time. Ahhhhh. Everyone has to have a plan, even if it's asking yourself, "Would the Department of Health tolerate this?"

Everyone Does This, Right?

So it's nearly time for DH to be home and I'm so glad it's Friday, but we are facing a dilemma of sorts this evening. The question: to attend or not attend the family Bible study tonight?

Now I know for a lot of people the answer is a no brainer--"Go!" "No, we'd never go!" Yeah, it isn't that clear cut for us right now. On the one hand, they are just starting a new study that is supposed to be pretty good, and tonight they give out the books and do the introductory material, etc. So it would be a great time to jump back in after a spring/summer break from it. On the other hand, DD would now be the only toddler present, and instead of having a 12 year old there to sort of ride herd on the younger kids while they all watch a movie, it would just be our DD and three other kids who are all 5 years older (or more). Hmmmmmmm. In addition, we have DS to consider--who is now a mobile baby who isn't interested in sleeping through the whole study time or being confined to my lap with a few small (and quiet!) toys.

Frankly I am leaning toward not going right now. I don't anticipate that DD is going to be able to behave herself without adult supervision, which knocks either me or DH out of the study group from the get-go. Secondly, I don't think DS is going to be well behaved without close supervision either, and at that point we are just kindly making a dinner entree or dessert for 8-10 people out of the goodness of our hearts and trucking it 24 minutes away to be able to eat it cold and pass up a lot of the other offerings due to our own pickiness as eaters. Oh, and that while we try to convince DD to eat something, anything, because she's so excited by the other kids (already) and doesn't want to waste time eating, for pete's sake!

However, I did make a big 13" x 9" pan of cookie-brownie bars this afternoon on the original plan of going, which will just go straight to my ample buttocks and thighs if we don't get it out of our house. And I am curious about the study they are going to do. And it would be nice to have some fellowship time with some of the folks from church, with DH.

It does seem like a cop-out to beg the "young kids" excuse to not do stuff, but really, if we're not able to participate at all because we are busy keeping our kids from inconveniencing everyone else (and not doing that well, given my DD's shrieking the last few aborted times we went)...is that worth it? I don't think so. I'm just trying to be honest here. And of course I'd be lying if I didn't say that vegging out on the couch with DH watching our recorded Survivor and eating some brownie-cookie bars with a big glass of milk doesn't sound oh-so-attractive after I've spent some time cleaning out baby spit-up from the Lego box (doesn't everyone have to do that on a regular basis?). And I really do think that my children going without baths for three days requires rectification this evening, don't you? Something which would not happen if we dashed off to Bible study the minute DH came in the door.

Hmmmmmm. I'm thinking the scales have been weighed here, folks. I'm calling it Survivor and bath night...and hopefully that is best for everybody.

Musings

Well I have comforted myself with the knowledge that our cash flow situation this month is because I am putting money back into our savings account from my overdraft oops last month, so that's something anyway. *phew* For a minute there I was thinking, "Ok, how are we going to eat?" I had scheduled it automatically and because it was entered early in Quicken, my brain just sort of ignored that line. Ah the fun of money...not!

And of course we wouldn't really have a problem eating because I am doing so well with the Grocery Game. I have done phenomenally well this week, scoring Campbell's microwave soup bowls this week for $1 each (absolutely rock bottom price!) for DH's lunches, and basically Quaker paid me to take some of their stuff off the grocery store shelves. So I was quite pleased about that, even if I did treat myself to a Tully's sugar free almond latte at the store.

Speaking of which, our local grocery store has dumped Starbucks from inside the store and swapped it for a Tully's. I like the lower prices of Tully's, and the fact that they have sugar free almond syrup (*drool*), however, I have to say the coffee is just a tad lower on the taste scale for me and their baristas are not nearly as personable. Oh well.

I am lamenting my inability to buy DS some good winter clothes through the Children's Place fall sale. In particular I am kicking myself over the sport corduroy pants which are on sale, but we have no extra moola so I can't buy them. *sniff!* They are SO CUTE! Ditto the long sleeved onesies, henley shirts, and jackets which he does actually NEED for this winter. *sigh* I am pinning my hopes on a MOPS clothing swap on the 12th, and hopefully I will get enough cute and warm things for him that it will assuage my guilt over that "inability to purchase right now even though it's a great deal" sadness that is plagueing me.

And, I have caught up with all my neighbors about their lives and such, so I feel like a Good Neighbor. I owe 1 apple pie or some other baked good to one set, and I really ought to bake something to bring along when I introduce myself to the 2 new sets of neighbors on our street. Hopefully I will get around to that shortly.

Kiddos are driving me a bit mad at the moment...cranky DS who I suspect is teething again, is now fully mobile and also has a really bad yeast rash for which we now have a prescription cream. DD is potty training and has her hits and misses. *sigh* How long does this process take, exactly? *LOL* Basically they are sucking up all my attention and I am not handling it well. I even skipped my Bible study homework the past 2 days in lieu of having some unstructured mommy time to myself, where I could read a magazine or the newspaper. I just couldn't handle another type of "brain required" activity. I know, I know...God would have provided. I just didn't let him. I'm too tired to feel too guilty about that, although I'm sure that will come around tomorrow when I actually do it.

Well I have to go off to the grocery store now and get some more milk. I have been skimping on the milk purchasing and now finally have a discount price to justify buying 3 whole gallons at once. Oh, the luxury of it!

Countermeasures

Watching my children play, it's clear that they are avid subscribers to the Second Law of Thermodynamics, namely, that spontaneous processes contribute to disorder in the Universe at large, and specifically this house. Give my children ten minutes and some toys, and they can scatter them in a perfect random distribution throughout the house. Furthermore, they can turn on toys, faucets, unroll toilet paper, and shred paper or books with uncanny speed and alacrity that is never employed to eat disfavored foods.

Thus, I have begun employing the "just five minutes a day" countermeasure to this clutter and chaos induction. For just five minutes each day, I am attempting to clean up and keep up with the spread of chaos by reintroducing order.

What this is turning into, in practice, is at least five minutes spent cleaning, but often more. I've just spent 30 minutes tidying and cleaning, because one thing inevitably led to another and while I started tidying 2 tables, I progressed to tidying the PlayDoh table, then toys in general, then "Oh my the carpet doesn't react well to Play Doh and it really needs a good vacuuming anyway" and before I knew it I had vacuumed half my house and reorganized the living room toys into an appropriate basket! Behold, the power of the "five minutes a day" head strategy for at least starting to make order from chaos.

Regarding PlayDoh, have you ever noticed how it is impossible to thoroughly clean out PlayDoh from the toys they make to shape it and extrude cool things? It's like the engineers purposefully obscured the design and added tiny little crevices to grab and hold onto the PlayDoh until it falls out, rock solid and unable to be used. I'm quite certain they did this on purpose, because that means eventually you will use up all of your PlayDoh and have to buy more. I wish I could talk to those toy engineers and reassure them on that score. You see, preschoolers leave PlayDoh out until it gets hard and crusty, and then a parent is forced to toss it because it can no longer be shaped. So really, it was unnecessary to badly design the extruder toys, because the child him or her self will render the PlayDoh obsolete far before those crevices can eat it all up. Further, a parent is also forced to wonder if the Dyson can really handle all those large-ish clumps of PlayDoh on the carpet and be forced to pick it up by hand, aggravating any sore back issues that may plague a parent.

Yep, five minutes a day to clean...and at least five to pick up PlayDoh. At least I finished my Bible study homework early today!

Intoxicating Independence

DS woke at the ungodly hour of 6:15 this morning, and despite my attempts to coax him back to sleep he insisted that he was ready for the day, as announced by a large SPLAT that necessitated turning on the light, gathering diaper supplies, etc...by which time, he was thoroughly awake and so was I. *sigh* I got myself a cup of coffee and toted him out to the front room where he proceeded to happily entertain himself for 45 minutes before conking out again in the swing, just in time for his sister to wake up--which means a day of them being off-sync from each other looms. Oh joy.

But during that scoot-around time this morning, I enjoyed watching DS enjoy his new independence. He doesn't have forward motion down completely yet, but he has worked out his own system with sitting up and pushing himself up onto his toes, sort of leveraging himself forward. It's quite ingenious really...I'm betting it will delay the onset of "true" crawling because he seems quite content with his own style of forward movement. Watching him, it's like the whole world has opened up for his tactile discovery and enjoyment. It's so darn cute! He is delighted with himself for getting underneath the coffee table, and now that is his favorite place to play with whatever toy has captivated his attention. This morning it was the wipes container, and he spent a merry five minutes using it like a drum and pushing it around. You can almost see the thoughts and wheels turning in his head--hey, this is fun!

DD has her own brand of intoxicating independence moments. Lately it has been being able to put on her socks and underwear by herself, thank you very much! She is also intrigued with hand washing and indeed I have to be quite firm about the number of times and frequency of hand washing. (Tip for those who aren't there yet--the foam hand soaps are much, MUCH easier for beginning hand washers, and you don't have a huge puddle of soap to clean up or attempt to wash off their tiny hands either.) She also has to put on her own shoes and socks. Next is picking out her own clothes, I know, although for now the 'give her two options and let her pick' strategy is working.

I realize the whole goal of parenting is to encourage independence, so that eventually they don't need you any more and are ready to handle things by themselves. Nonetheless, it's quite fascinating, heartwarming, and a bit heartstring-tugging to see your children asserting their independence and mastery of new skills. Sort of a reminder that I'm working myself out of a job...which is entirely as it should be. *sniff*

A Mom's Perspective

There is a long list of things that used to gross me out before I was a parent. Now, they are just an everyday deal, a part of life. Here's a partial list, off the top of my head:

• snot on face/hands/clothes
• boogers on face/hands/clothes/every reachable-to-toddler-hands surface
• soppy baby cereal on face/hands/table/highchair
• half-eaten baby puffs or fruit or toast
• someone else's drink
• someone else drinking out of my drink
• baby poop in all its varieties (brocco-poopy, people...that's all I'm sayin')
• baby spit-up
• vomit

Oh don't get me wrong--I still don't like any of those things. But I deal with them in an off-hand manner that I know our non-parent friends find at best bemusing and at worst, well, gross! Half-eaten, soggy-with-saliva food gets handled and tossed bare-handed, with hand washing done after all clean-up activities are completed. My DD drinks out of my drink on a regular basis, now that I'm convinced she doesn't backwash as much since I don't see big chunks of whatever she's eating in my glass (I conveniently ignore the fact that I've made it a rule that she has to finish eating whatever she's gnawing on before being allowed to drink from my cup). DH & I joke about what kind of poop we are going to find in DS' diaper based on his newest food group. And I really do not know how we lived without baby wipes to clean up just about anything before.

I still strongly dislike projectile vomit, sour milk spit-up, or really vomit of any kind, to be honest. Likewise I have developed a strong loathing for cleaning up urine, although DS eating it or peeing on things doesn't distress me too much since I know urine is sterile coming out of the body, yada yada yada. There's the REAL benefit of my science education! *LOL* DD's accidents bother me because I know that she knows better and she chooses not to do so, in the cases of a deliberate accident (not enough attention, being naughty beforehand). So cleaning up that is more annoying than the times she is too busy playing to stop and use the potty. You know what I mean...they just KNOW the difference at some point.

Anyway, I clean all of that up without a second thought. It's a normal part of my life. I think this is the thing that is really impossible for the non-parent to understand. It's just so a part of your day that you don't bat an eyelash at it any more. I realize that some golden day in the distant future, I will not be dealing with these things on a regular basis, but then I will probably be worrying about broken limbs and blood and will be quite accustomed to bloody scrapes and cuts, etc. When the ever nebulous "they" talk about the joys of parenthood, I think this ought to be included in the Full Disclosure Form, don't you?

Misty Morning Musings

You can tell I've had my coffee this morning, with that whimsical alliteration! *LOL* I also have my lovely parrot Alex sitting on my arm assisting me with blogging this morning, so we'll see how long this lasts before my computer keyboard is under attack.

(now resuming this after extensive head rubbing for Alex, who decided she wanted some love and attention)

I think she's in a good mood because I pressure washed her cage yesterday, so it's nearly as clean as it was when I bought it (and her) ten years ago. (more lovings for Alex) The thing about bird poop is that the uric acid in it eats at paint, though, so it needs to be repainted with a good black powdercoat. Eventually I might do this--maybe next summer when I can pressure wash it again and let it thoroughly dry, then don my work respirator and do it myself. Yep, I'm too cheap frugal to pay someone else $200 (half the cost of the cage!!) when I can do it myself.

I keep looking out of my window at the mist and wondering if I will see the doe who visited us a few weeks ago on a similiar misty morning. And seeing the mist with all the shades of green has me keen to get out my Irish music and throw some on the CD player...not any of the jigs or reels, but something mournful or haunting, to suit the morning. Unfortunately, my DD is still asleep and I don't want to wake her up, as she had a fever and slight cold yesterday. Hopefully the mist and mood will hang around long enough for me to do so, as I don't listen to that music often enough.

I was thinking about my blog title and reminding myself that the genesis for this blogging gig was not entirely the randomness of life's events, but also the incredible thoughtlessness with which I (and I argue most other people) live their lives these days. Our pastor preached a sermon on Proverbs 15:16-17. "Better a little with the fear of the LORD than great wealth with turmoil. Better a meal of vegetables where there is love than a fattened calf with hatred."

Related story: we were members of a church in Arizona that supported an orphanage and school in Uganda. Not as in, we send $XXXX every so often (although we did that too), but as in, we actually went there (well a routine group of members did once a year) and we actually had the founder/principal/pastor come and visit us on a semi-regular basis. And those kids eat beans and rice for every meal. EVERY MEAL. And they are BLESSED to get it! The principal talked about how he tried to get some meat for the kids every now and then, but it was very expensive and when you are feeding 400 kids he just couldn't afford it. They cooked over an open pit fire (no kitchen to start, although they had built a 3-sided lean-to with a tarp roof by the time we moved), and the kids bunked, two kids per bunk bed, stacked 3 high, and crammed as many as they could into one building. The caretaker had to chain them and lock them in at night, because of the danger to the kids from witch doctors and other unscrupulous people who would prey on them. So the pastor's greatest fear was fire.

I mean, can you imagine your life in those circumstances? Can we really, and I mean really appreciate all the blessings we've got? These kids were so starved for adult role models, but they were kind to each other, they loved getting hugs from visitors, and their faces just lit up when they were given a small piece of hard candy and some paper and a new pencil. Totally, utterly humbling.

Which is why I am really doing what I can to contribute to Operation Christmas Child in our community. I have bought school supplies at rock bottom prices to provide pens for kids like those. I hope I can get over to our church this weekend to help wrap shoe boxes to hold the goodies for the kids. What a difference something so small can make to a child in such dire circumstances. So I challenge you--the next time you are out grocery shopping, get some paper or pencils for Operation Christmas Child. Drop them off at your local organization's drop-off point. You can find it right here: http://www.samaritanspurse.org/OCC_DropOff_Index.asp?zip=%20&radius=100&OCCPath=1

Make a difference.

Of Clutter and Bribery

Have you ever noticed that clutter is like a Tribble? You clutter up one surface, and it multiplies behind your back to cover surfaces all over your house. It's like you mentally give yourself and other family members subconscious permission to just leave crap lying everywhere when you just let one surface get out of control.

Take my dining table, for example. I put down a newspaper on it the other day (yes, it was the other day and not sometime last week!), and now, a scant few days later, here's a list of what's on it:

1. wicker basket used to serve food
2. DD's "Shopping" book and cardboard cut-outs from the book
3. DD's foam alphabet stickers (in the container, not stuck to the tablecloth)
4. an empty and clean cake plate and cover
5. empty IKEA wood picture frames
6. 12 framed flower pictures for hanging in the kitchen
7. a SECOND wicker basket used to serve food
8. trivet
9. salt & pepper shakers
10. FOUR newspapers
11. coupons
12. assorted bills & mail items
13. the digital camera
14. empty red plastic cup
15. water bottle
16. shopping list pad and pen
17. DD's NWF "Animal Baby" magazine from June (of course)
18. my Bible study binder
19. my laptop
20. Gerber puffs for DS, and the tray from his highchair

You'd have all that on your dining room table, wouldn't you? Of course you would...and so would any other reasonable person in America. That's my Delusion of the Day.

On a completely unrelated note, we have discovered that yes, bribery does work with potty training. DD had been completely refusing to do pooping on the potty, and while she was doing okay with peeing on the potty we were still having a bit too many accidents for my liking. So, I told her on Monday that if she went pee-pee AND poo-poo in the potty ALL WEEK, she could go to Barnes & Noble on Friday and pick out a brand new book! Well, that has done the trick like nothing else! I have also been a bit more vigilant about enforcing potty time, and she has done really, really well. I am not going to count my chickens before they hatch, but I would be oh-so-happy to buy a children's book on Friday.

And on the "Not as Easy as It Looks" front, DH got up with both kiddos this morning in a characteristic act of kindness so that I could sleep in, after a very disturbed night of sleep for us all. DD & DS were quite grumpy and woke several times last night, so I was ecstatic to sleep on, even if my dream involved an annoying return to graduate school and a reminder of how glad I am to be done with that phase of my life. Anyway, I was woken up precisely an hour later by DH storming in, DS in his arms, with an emphatic proclamation of, "I'm sorry but you're just going to have to get up now. I can't do this any more."

Apparently my DD had been diligently practicing using her potty, including using the toilet paper which is sitting on the table next to her potty (in the living room, natch). And DS had rolled/crawled over to check out this potty thing (unsurprisingly, he loves exploring now that he's mobile). So DH moved him, and went about doing something else (not quite clear on this bit), but he came back and found DS...eating bits of pee-soaked toilet paper. (Ewwww!) Yes, my son had crawled over to the potty, opened the lid, and helped himself to the toilet paper. DH was nearly apoplectic with a grinning DS in his arms.

Ahem. This would be why I empty her potty IMMEDIATELY after use. You see, I may appear to be ensconced in email, message boards, and blogs here in the mornings, but I really am paying attention to what my kiddos are getting into (most of the time). It's not as easy as it looks. I smothered my laughter and got up, much to my children's delight. What could be better than TWO tired parents to entertain/annoy? At least DH gets to go to the office 4 days a week. *LOL*

Random "First of the Day" Ramblings

I wonder if, upon being woken by one's DS at 6 am, one really would melt into the floor and die for lack of coffee? Note this is a strictly rhetorical question as I have a steaming hot cup of java right here with me.

The house is cool in the mornings now, and even though it's supposed to get up into the 80s F again today, it is quite pleasant (for now) to have to put on some slipper socks to feel comfortable. Of course, I'm still wearing shorts. It's an odd time of the year.

I have decided that it is OKAY to keep kiddos in PJs until at least mid-morning. With the cool mornings and hot afternoons, I really don't want to deal with repeats of yesterday, where DS didn't nap well in the morning because he was cold...or the other day, when he whined in the afternoon because he was too hot. I categorically refuse to put him in more than one set of clothes per day, unless blow-out diapers necessitate it...I have enough laundry! So he can stay in his warm PJs until the mercury rises a bit.

If one child wakes up early and will not be entertained in your room (*cough* DS *cough*), then you can bet that the other child will be woken up early and will insist on joining you in the living room. I can see an early lunch and early naps in my future today.

As an update for any who might be interested, I have almost reached the end of the 1 skein of fun fur yarn for my first attempt at a scarf, and suffice it to say, it is faaaaaaar too short as I cast on, oh, about 3 times the stitches that the pattern called for, because it didn't look wide enough to me. Ahem. Yes, a complete failure on the first go! I think I am going to unravel it all and start again. Now that I have a better sense of what I'm doing it will hopefully go a bit better this time. Yes, that's the ticket.

And, for reasons that utterly mystify me, I decided DD's room was not "done" enough and I made a ribbon chandelier to suspend from the ceiling around her plain vanilla light fixture. I like how it turned out, even if it's not precisely what I had envisioned when I planned the project. Suffice it to say, getting graceful swoops of ribbon between two wreath frames is harder than one imagines it is. But she's happy, I'm happy, and I'm going to do a modified version for DS's room--a hot air balloon. Eventually. When I, you know, get seized by that freak "MUST CRAFT" impulse. So, probably in a year or so.

Time for breakfast!

Officially Nutto, and Beat Up Too

Remind me, peeps, the next time my parents are coming, to NOT undertake any major projects such as furniture moving and rearranging, two days prior to any visit. Furthermore, any proclamations that all clutter shall be banished should be verboten prior to company coming to town.

Oh, I think if the kids are angels this afternoon (they have been very tolerant of my busyness this morning) I can complete about 90% of the tasks, make no mistake...and it will be a miracle, and the angels will sing because surely God will have helped me along with the multitude of work! However, understand that there will still be dust covering surfaces that probably need a good dusting (dust is most welcome in this house, I am building up tremendous immune systems in my children and thus avoiding any occurrence of asthma). And the vacuuming will be poor because the famed Dyson Animal has been beaten down by repeated cage cleanings and parrot feathers and hair in the bathrooms. I suspect it has a clog somewhere, reducing its famous suction to something quite half-hearted which has me questioning the point of vacuuming at all, really.

I can hear some of you now, with helpful suggestions like, "just do a little cleaning each day, and keep up with it instead of cleaning for company." Yes, these are the types of helpful suggestions you read in women's magazines and parenting magazines, but you never read about days like my day yesterday, oh no you don't.

You don't read about parents schlepping their two kids under 3 in a double stroller from the autoglass place to the mall, weaving through construction zones around the mall and dodging people zooming to the Goodwill drop off and cursing while they streak off equally irritably upon discovery that the trailer is full today. And you don't read about moms who scour the purported "clearance" racks in the stores but find clothes that are still overpriced for what they are (which is clothes that look cute with unique buttons and embroidery and bits of lace but which will turn into dangerous (broken buttons), unraveling, need-to-be-ironed to look presentable clothing which will be irrevocably stained after about the third wearing). So you obtain a bribe ice cream cone to keep your two year old happy and tell yourself that a little caffeinated coffee ice cream is really not bad in the big scheme of things for your seven month old--at least he's happy! And then two hours later you call the autoglass place and find out that they do not have the right glass for your car, but oops our installer didn't catch it until he cut out your old glass, so we have these options, all of which involve inconvenience and about $200 more...*sigh*

Then you take your two year old to the playground, because you promised you would, before schlepping them back to the autoglass place to remove your carseats and get a ride home from their receptionist (oh joy). And your two year old refuses to come to you at the playground entrance when you clearly counted down the time left until you had to go. And you try to grab your DD as she runs past, keeping your DS and stroller within a moderate distance at the entrance, and end up doing a face plant on the floor, crashing your DD to the floor with you, resulting in a wrenched knee and a wailing child to console. So you awkwardly hobble the mile back to the autoglass store with the double stroller and two exhausted children, get your stuff arranged and get home, only to wrench your shoulder moving furniture.

Why is it that we never read about these types of things in the parenting magazines, hmmm? "Mom Tips for Surviving Child-Inflicted Injuries", or "How Not to Care About Housecleaning When Company's Coming". Now THOSE are articles I could use, peeps!

All right, I'm off to ice my knee and continue moving furniture. Don't worry, I only have a really heavy poplar pie safe to move now. And a chair and ottoman. And the desk from the doorway of the guest room to our cottage. Along with the metal bedframe on our deck. Did I mention clearing a path in the cottage to be able to move those things in? No? Well, don't mind me...I'm just nutto here.

The Frenzy of Preparation

My parents are coming for a visit this weekend, and I am in the process of frenetically cleaning, organizing, and preparing my house and myself for their arrival Thursday. The clutter of mail had spread beyond the normal 2 clutterpoints in the house, so I have shoved the remainder in a drawer because I was tired of dealing with it tidied it away neatly in anticipation of their arrival. Their house is full of clutter, so I have the vain hope that if I can have our house neat and relatively clutter-free, it will subliminally tell them that it is NOT okay to clutter up MY house during their five day stay. I really, really hope this is what they will pick up.

Anyway, I am also attempting to have all laundry done, all dishes done (including no pans left by DH to "soak" in the sink for days on end), and the two clutterpoints actually GONE and everything TIDY...and the angels singing en masse because it will be a miracle if it all happens.

As it happens I have actually finally mounted the curtain hardware and hung the curtains I sewed a year ago for DS's room, which also pinch-hits as the guest room. We will just ignore the fact that I forgot how long they are and mounted the curtain rod too low on the wall and the bottoms of the curtain sort of sit on top of one of the guest beds, yes we are just ignoring that for the time being...ahem... I am also reorganizing all the hand-me-down clothes for DS, getting them semi-organized in bags and somewhat tidied away in the closet. I've even accidentally pulled out from the wall preventatively tested the wall strap for DS's dresser in the closet, so DH has a little fix-it project to tackle at some point in the future when DS actually, you know, occupies his room instead of the pack-n-play in our room.

We have arranged a family visit to my brother and fam up north, so that will be fun. I am steeling myself for my dad's grumbling about "walking too far" regardless of wherever we choose to picnic, and am hoping that wherever my parents treat us for dinner out, the food will not be sniffed at with proclamations of "it's too spicy" or "they used too much pepper". I hope.

Of course, DD is ecstatic at TWO trips to the airport, and the presence of grandparents who are sure to treat her to too much ice cream, cookies, and sugar for her general well being. Now that both of my parents are diabetic, I have bought some sugar free cookies (including Oreos) and will be sneaky and put them in ziploc baggies before they arrive, thus they will probably eat them. Hehe. And I bought my mom her preferred snacks of several 100 calorie packs from Nabisco, closing my eyes and paying FULL PRICE for them at the grocery store--complete, utter breaking of grocery shopping rules! She will eat them if I have to shove them at her 24/7 during their stay. All snack purchases, of course, were made in the vain hope that they will not go to the grocery store and buy a bunch of crappy processed high sugar food name brand snacks. If I can keep them out of Costco and the grocery store, I will have succeeded.

And naturally now was the perfect time to completely rearrange all the furniture in our living room and den! Sofa and sofabed were moved by myself yesterday, and floorplans and furniture arrangements dissected until we have what we think is a workable plan. I just have to finish moving it all...by myself...today. Did I mention that DD is potty training in earnest? And just had her second accident of the morning, this time, on purpose, because I would not put on a video she wanted to watch? So she purposely left the room with her training potty and went to her room and peed on her soft foam princess chair? Which I now have to wash?

Yep-er, a great day looms. DD has been warned that if she goes elsewhere to pee again, she is getting spanked. Whatever about negative associations--this kid KNEW EXACTLY WHAT SHE WAS DOING. And that is something "up with which I will not put." Sorry, I draw the line. *sigh* Oh yes, and I am getting my windscreen replaced on my car today rather than hear my dad bitch complain about it all through the visit. I hadn't saved up the money to do so yet, so that's a hit to the e-fund. Oh great. Better though than hear my dad endlessly ranting about it for five days, which would inevitably yield to some other ranting about how poorly we keep our cars.

Oh yes, this will be great fun. Now, where are my margarita fixings??? Just kidding.