I think I have my head wedged tightly up my bum. Seriously...
I totally forgot to call my Dad on Father's Day. Who does that? Me... I did text him when I remembered it, but that was at 10:30 last night -- and he's on EST, not CST like me. Sorry, Daddy...
And then, I realized that I changed purses and never mailed a Mother's Day card to my Grandmother. Sigh... I am clearly not going to win "Most Favored Granddaughter" status this year. Sorry, Grandma...
What is going on with me?
I think the end of the academic year came rushing at me like a freight train on speed -- recovering from that has left me floundering, my head spinning right round like a record, baby. When you add in the amazing traveling husband, the t-ball playing, birthday partying boy child and the potty training girl child you get a mama about as organized as my Mom's junk drawer. Oh, yeah -- there's the chickens, house, laundry, cooking, cleaning, bill-paying, weed-filled gardening and trying-to-lose-weight-by-running, too.
I don't really have an excuse because when said hubby isn't traveling or working a show during the evening, he's a pretty darn helpful guy. Unfortunately, June has seen one opera, one trip to Texas, and the current week-long sojourn to Nebraska for this poor, overworked daddy. Poor fella spent Father's Day in a rented van driving through thunderstorms to recruit aspiring thespians.
And then, when I did get a chance to talk to him, I groused about the four empty ice cube trays in the kitchen. No one else uses ice, ice, baby. Just him. And the wonderful wife that is me took the opportunity to complain to him about it in Father's Day. Sorry, honey...
So, yeah... I've got a big ol' head wedgie right now...
Showing posts with label home alone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label home alone. Show all posts
Monday, June 21, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
Insomnia
Ah-ah-ah-insomnia-ah-ah!
I know why it's happening, but I'm not sure how to make it stop because it is all stress related. When I type stress, imagine it with 60,000 lightning bolts arcing around it, the metallic taste of ozone creeping into your mouth. Electric blue stress, with a side of last-adult-standing.
What's goin' on to make me stressed? Eh, a couple of things.
1. The miscarriage. As it stands right now, another phebotomist rolled another vein in my right arm, so I had to attend a wedding on Friday night with a nasty bruise and some track marks on the inside of my elbow. I solved this issue by always carrying a glass of wine -- brilliant! Friday night, my poor hubby had to insert four pills of Cytotec into my girly parts to medically induce a miscarriage. After reading horror stories online, I was too chicken to administer the meds myself. No horror story for me, though, as it didn't work. Well, it worked well enough that I had some crap-tastic diarrhea and was limp as a wet noodle all day Saturday, but I didn't finish the miscarriage, or maybe I didn't need to. I don't know anymore. I have an ultrasound scheduled for the 21st to see what's-a-going-on-in-there. Yippee!
2. Violet had a tummy bug. And now, every time one of the kids moves at night, I hear it on the monitor and think someone's drowning in puke in their bed. I jolt out of bed and tear into her room, searching for signs of vomit, then return empty-handed to repeat this ritual in 34 seconds. This has caused me so much anxiety that I have actually spent part of the last few nights snoozing on the futon where I can't hear the baby monitor. I'd turn it off, but Scott actually likes it. Maybe I'll just turn it off anyway.
3. Speaking of Scott, he's waist deep in a production, as he always is this time of year. Tech rehearsals kept him out of the house on Saturday when I was winning the couch-parenting-mother-of-the-year award and will tonight and tomorrow night. So now I've got to chase Violet around the playground during Milo's t-ball practice again. Because that was super-fun last week. And will be super-fun on Wednesday, too.
4. Scott is heading out of town. Yep, he'll be installing a set in Texas this week. Yay for the rental fee, yay for the per diem travel, and yay for the wages to install it, but BOO to Scott being gone. Boo, hiss...
5. Milo's birthday party is approaching. Which means cleaning and preparing for a party. And hoping that kids come... I've only had three RSVPs (two yes, one no) out of 10 invites. They aren't due until the 10th, so hopefully a few more will come through.
6. I'm gearing up to go to part-time status at the beginning of July. Trying to get as much done before then. And with classes out, the only living things in the basement of this building are me and the bugs. Did I mention that spiders creep me out? Well, they do.
7. My garden and plants aren't responding and growing as well as I'd hoped they would. Sure, some things are doing really well (corn, beans, zucchini, onions) but the ones I really want to eat (broccoli, tomatoes, and cauliflower) aren't. Some of the peppers are and some aren't. I got some organic fertilizer to see if that will make a difference... Now to find the time to use it.
8. I need to renew my driver's license and file for a homestead tax credit. OK, not real big stressors here, but stuff that does need to be done. Speaking of which, why hasn't my license plate renewal notice arrived? Better check into that, too.
9. Violet is trying to potty train. Sometimes. When it seems appropriate. Or darn inconvenient. Her little voice doesn't seem to carry the same sort of insistence that Milo's did when he was in that stage. Sometimes it sounds like she's singing, other times it sounds like she's asking for a drink. "My need tinkle" sounds a bit like "My need dwink!" doesn't it?
10. My allergies and sunburn have left me feeling totally itchy. And like I just don't want to be touched. At all. By anyone. And everyone I know wants to sit in my lap, cuddle me, snuggle me, sleep on me, sleep with me, squash me, and climb on me. I just don't seem to have any tolerance right now. Maybe a few nights sleeping in my bed all by myself with the monitor off will do the trick? Even if they don't that's still what's going to happen.
I know why it's happening, but I'm not sure how to make it stop because it is all stress related. When I type stress, imagine it with 60,000 lightning bolts arcing around it, the metallic taste of ozone creeping into your mouth. Electric blue stress, with a side of last-adult-standing.
What's goin' on to make me stressed? Eh, a couple of things.
1. The miscarriage. As it stands right now, another phebotomist rolled another vein in my right arm, so I had to attend a wedding on Friday night with a nasty bruise and some track marks on the inside of my elbow. I solved this issue by always carrying a glass of wine -- brilliant! Friday night, my poor hubby had to insert four pills of Cytotec into my girly parts to medically induce a miscarriage. After reading horror stories online, I was too chicken to administer the meds myself. No horror story for me, though, as it didn't work. Well, it worked well enough that I had some crap-tastic diarrhea and was limp as a wet noodle all day Saturday, but I didn't finish the miscarriage, or maybe I didn't need to. I don't know anymore. I have an ultrasound scheduled for the 21st to see what's-a-going-on-in-there. Yippee!
2. Violet had a tummy bug. And now, every time one of the kids moves at night, I hear it on the monitor and think someone's drowning in puke in their bed. I jolt out of bed and tear into her room, searching for signs of vomit, then return empty-handed to repeat this ritual in 34 seconds. This has caused me so much anxiety that I have actually spent part of the last few nights snoozing on the futon where I can't hear the baby monitor. I'd turn it off, but Scott actually likes it. Maybe I'll just turn it off anyway.
3. Speaking of Scott, he's waist deep in a production, as he always is this time of year. Tech rehearsals kept him out of the house on Saturday when I was winning the couch-parenting-mother-of-the-year award and will tonight and tomorrow night. So now I've got to chase Violet around the playground during Milo's t-ball practice again. Because that was super-fun last week. And will be super-fun on Wednesday, too.
4. Scott is heading out of town. Yep, he'll be installing a set in Texas this week. Yay for the rental fee, yay for the per diem travel, and yay for the wages to install it, but BOO to Scott being gone. Boo, hiss...
5. Milo's birthday party is approaching. Which means cleaning and preparing for a party. And hoping that kids come... I've only had three RSVPs (two yes, one no) out of 10 invites. They aren't due until the 10th, so hopefully a few more will come through.
6. I'm gearing up to go to part-time status at the beginning of July. Trying to get as much done before then. And with classes out, the only living things in the basement of this building are me and the bugs. Did I mention that spiders creep me out? Well, they do.
7. My garden and plants aren't responding and growing as well as I'd hoped they would. Sure, some things are doing really well (corn, beans, zucchini, onions) but the ones I really want to eat (broccoli, tomatoes, and cauliflower) aren't. Some of the peppers are and some aren't. I got some organic fertilizer to see if that will make a difference... Now to find the time to use it.
8. I need to renew my driver's license and file for a homestead tax credit. OK, not real big stressors here, but stuff that does need to be done. Speaking of which, why hasn't my license plate renewal notice arrived? Better check into that, too.
9. Violet is trying to potty train. Sometimes. When it seems appropriate. Or darn inconvenient. Her little voice doesn't seem to carry the same sort of insistence that Milo's did when he was in that stage. Sometimes it sounds like she's singing, other times it sounds like she's asking for a drink. "My need tinkle" sounds a bit like "My need dwink!" doesn't it?
10. My allergies and sunburn have left me feeling totally itchy. And like I just don't want to be touched. At all. By anyone. And everyone I know wants to sit in my lap, cuddle me, snuggle me, sleep on me, sleep with me, squash me, and climb on me. I just don't seem to have any tolerance right now. Maybe a few nights sleeping in my bed all by myself with the monitor off will do the trick? Even if they don't that's still what's going to happen.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
The Text Heard 'Round KC...
Apparently the text message I sent Scott yesterday is "the hit of the convention." Yes, he shared a text with, apparently, anyone who will listen. What was this text that has made it the Holy Grail of texts? You tell me why he's been sharing it with everyone he sees...
"Dave H. has steamer at Expo. (xxx) xxx-xxxx. Kids had good day. Ultrasound tech saw my brain thru my vaj and Tess did squirt on the floor. Chicks good."
I thought this was a completely thorough run-down of the day in 160 characters or less. Let me break it down for you:
"Dave H. has steamer at Expo. (xxx) xxx-xxxx. Kids had good day. Ultrasound tech saw my brain thru my vaj and Tess did squirt on the floor. Chicks good."
I thought this was a completely thorough run-down of the day in 160 characters or less. Let me break it down for you:
- Dave H. has steamer at Expo. Someone called the house with info Scott needed at his convention (they accidentally put our home number on the contact sheet, so I answered several calls from people calling him in Kansas City while they were in Kansas City and likely only two rooms away from him at the convention center).
- Kids had good day. Well, that's pretty clear, I think.
- Ultrasound tech saw my brain thru my vaj I had a very complete pelvic ultrasound today to see if anything jumped out as a reason why we are currently infertile.
- and Tess did squirt on the floor. One of the dogs had some diarrhea this morning and I was concerned about her pooping on the floor when I was at work. For good reason.
- Chicks good. The 25 chicks living in our basement are all still alive, cute, and doing a great job eating, sleeping, and pooping.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Stuffed with Sawdust and Leaking Sand
I am so darn tired. The last couple of weeks have just sapped me. The upcoming week promises to be challenging as Scott will be out of town the entire week.
I feel like a scarerow stuffed with sand and sawdust. And that in my dummy foot, there is a tear and the sand is trickling out with every step, leaving just the sawdust. Each step costs me a few grains, every grain takes with it a molecule of energy. At the end of the day, only the sawdust holds my skin in shape.
I hope to get some good rest, to fill up my reserves this week. To tank up for the week ahead. I'll need to employ all of my time-saving tricks, or I won't get all of us where we need to go, when we need to go there. That means, plotting the entire week in my calendar like I'm preparing to take battle. Gathering up all resources available, hoping that, unlike my misfortunes last spring, I do not get falling-down sick, nor near-hospitalization sick. Please, not this spring. Please?
The loneliness will be the toughest part -- working in my quiet office alone all day, then working alone in a quiet house after the kids have gone to bed, with only the random night sounds as a soundtrack. I don't mind being alone, but I also don't think that I'm in a good frame of mind to be alone right now. I don't behave irresponsibly, but the current fog of sadness that clings to my heart makes for bad company. I much prefer the irreverent humor of my husband to the dismal yearning of my soul.
I do not know how single parent navigate this loneliness -- the monumental effort of marshaling two young children, two large dogs and the state of affairs in a home occupied by two young children and two large dogs leaves me no energy for socialization, no desire for fun. How does a single mother even see past the endless drone of existence to look for friendship, courtship, or lovers? I haven't the ambition for it. I guess it is a very good thing that I love my spouse and want nothing but a good life with him, and that his goals and dreams nest together with mine perfectly. Thank all things good for that...
I feel like a scarerow stuffed with sand and sawdust. And that in my dummy foot, there is a tear and the sand is trickling out with every step, leaving just the sawdust. Each step costs me a few grains, every grain takes with it a molecule of energy. At the end of the day, only the sawdust holds my skin in shape.
I hope to get some good rest, to fill up my reserves this week. To tank up for the week ahead. I'll need to employ all of my time-saving tricks, or I won't get all of us where we need to go, when we need to go there. That means, plotting the entire week in my calendar like I'm preparing to take battle. Gathering up all resources available, hoping that, unlike my misfortunes last spring, I do not get falling-down sick, nor near-hospitalization sick. Please, not this spring. Please?
The loneliness will be the toughest part -- working in my quiet office alone all day, then working alone in a quiet house after the kids have gone to bed, with only the random night sounds as a soundtrack. I don't mind being alone, but I also don't think that I'm in a good frame of mind to be alone right now. I don't behave irresponsibly, but the current fog of sadness that clings to my heart makes for bad company. I much prefer the irreverent humor of my husband to the dismal yearning of my soul.
I do not know how single parent navigate this loneliness -- the monumental effort of marshaling two young children, two large dogs and the state of affairs in a home occupied by two young children and two large dogs leaves me no energy for socialization, no desire for fun. How does a single mother even see past the endless drone of existence to look for friendship, courtship, or lovers? I haven't the ambition for it. I guess it is a very good thing that I love my spouse and want nothing but a good life with him, and that his goals and dreams nest together with mine perfectly. Thank all things good for that...
Friday, January 15, 2010
Monday, January 4, 2010
Par-ty! Par-ty! Par-ty!
Hey! It's a new year! Welcome 2010!
Ages ago, when I was in college, 2010 was the address of THE party house for the theatre department, you know, "Party at twenty-ten!". I can't even say "two thousand and ten" -- it just won't come out of my mouth. I think that there was a standing order for a party there every weekend (and many a weekday). This is, in fact the location of the first kiss I shared with my not-yet-husband many moons ago... Like 17 years ago. Is that right? Holy crap, I'm old...
2009 ended in a vastly different place than I thought it would when I look back to where we were a year ago. Here's the recap!
January: Cold, cold, cold. I had good plans to exercise daily, even going as far as blocking off time on my calendar. I actually did pretty well with this goal, at least for this month. One of my supervisors left and I moved (temporarily) into her old office so that I was closer to students in that program. As a result of the move, I got to use a faster computer. This made me more effective for everything I did, so I was happy with that. I wasn't happy that the office was routinely only 63 degrees and had a breeze...
February: Why can't I remember this month? What happened?
March: Scott celebrated his three-dozenth birthday. He traveled several times, and during one of those trips I came down with an awful, horrible tummy bug and I vomit and pass out in front of my children. That was pretty bad. I don't want to revisit that experience.
April: Busy month -- Scott did a show, I traveled to my last skating competition, and the kids kept growing. Milo continued to follow daddy's interests in Star Wars and Indiana Jones and Violet learned to dress and undress herself. She started talking more, too. We began landscaping the backyard and talk of expanding the swing set because we're "going to be in this house for a while."
May: Scott traveled again, this time to NYC. There had been some talk of me going with him for part of the trip, but it was probably a good thing I didn't as I came down with a freak case of pneumonia and ended up arguing with my physician that she couldn't hospitalize me "because I'm the only parent at home right now!" I paid a babysitter $100 to stay over night in case I was too sick to take care of the kids. After all of the traveling, we managed to get some good family time in and we enjoyed the lush Iowa spring.
June: I got a new supervisor at work! Yay! Who could ask for a better birthday present? Then we traveled to California where we spent two whole weeks with friends, mostly being lazy, but also enjoying the sun, sand, and our friends. I got very excited thinking I might be pregnant, but I wasn't. The kids loved the beach and Milo got to beat Darth Vader in a light saber duel on his fourth birthday.
July: I participated in several committee meetings on campus and feel very good about the feedback I gave and received. I enjoyed getting to know my new colleague and turning over some of her new duties to her. I also sat back and breathed a bit about life in general. We refinanced the house, took a trip to Chicago to meet my on-line mommy friends, and otherwise enjoyed a busy month. Although my family very much enjoyed the trip to Chicago, I decided that the next meet-up will be a mommy-only affair as I was envious of the window shopping and cocktailing my friends did.
August: With both supervisors back on campus, we started gearing up for the new school year. Suddenly, the stuff I have to do seemed less intimidating as I'm not trying to do it and someone else's job. I enjoyed this feeling! We prepped Milo for school and he was alternately excited and terrified. Violet returned happily to daycare and was instantly the sitter's pet. Scott started working on one of the shows he designed. The fall looked busy, fortunately not as busy as last fall, but Scott's schedule, in particular, was daunting as the holidays approached.
September: Violet turned 2! Milo broke his arm! He went on his first ever field trip! I chaperoned my first field trip! We looked at a house and placed an offer on it! It is accepted! And holy-crap-we've-got-to-sell-our-home-ASAP. ASAP.
October: Well, what do you know? Our house sold ASAP on October 3, so we (me) started packing, packing, packing. Halloween was fun, but I can't remember much more than packing, packing, packing. And Milo got his cast off, yeah, that happened in October.
November: MOVE! Got used to driving a little further to work. Got used to having enough room for all of our stuff. I like that feeling! Bought six gallons of paint with the goal of having the entire downstairs (save the kitchen and my bathroom) painted by the new year. Started with the room in which the Christmas tree will live as the gag-a-liscious mauve bird poop faux finish will NOT appear in my Christmas photos. Also had a nasty cyst removed from my leg -- that bugger needed to be packed and dressed four times...
December: Oh, this month dragged on as Scott toured with the Christmas spectacular and took his annual deer hunting trip with his brothers. I had a ton of events on campus this month and raced about on a broken toe trying to photograph everything I'm supposed to shoot. Then I spent the last half-week at work in lazy party mode. Eh... I was even bored enough that I tried starting the novel that lives in my brain and wrote the most awful tripe. Yes, I deleted it. I painted two and a half more rooms and am 1/2 a room short of my goal of having the whole main level painted by the new year. I finished the half room on New Year's Day. Close enough! I also made a guest post on a friend's blog. It was kinda fun and I liked swearing in a blog post. I don't do that often enough. Fu#k. Da&n. Sh%t.
Spent the last night of 2009 falling asleep at 11:30 with Scotty whooshing away wearing his bi-pap next to me in our new home. Pretty good ending (except that I'm still not pregnant).
What will 2010 bring? Stay tuned for further updates...
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Bum, bum, bum, bum, buuuummmmm!
Hmmm... It's been a while since I've blogged, huh?
OK. QUITE a while... Like, two weeks. What have I been up to?
Work: Busy, busy, busy... roll-out events, guests on campus, redoing the budget forms for one of my programs, on and on -- good, yes. Unfortunately the college is struggling with budgetary issues and it sounds like Scott and I will both be receiving a 2% pay cut next year. Ouch! And the college will be reducing their contribution to our retirement accounts, boo, hiss... We'll be OK overall, but it's not gonna be a fun year by any means, and who knows what will happen next year.
Play: Scott's been hard at work on the kids' playset -- it now has rubber mulch underneath and a roof on the platform -- very cute. I think we'll stain it caramel color and paint the roof green to match the hardware. On to more landscaping stuff -- before the dogs smash all of the hostas that I just transplanted. I think I foresee a big dumpster in our future and a week of Scotty cleaning out and throwing away crap from the garage.
Other: Scott was in NYC from the 17-22 for the Broadway Lighting Master Classes. I think he got something from them, though maybe not as much as he expected. Ah, well... He did get to eat some pretty good food and see some good shows, something about which I am infinitely jealous.
Kids: Both kids are doing pretty well. Violet cracked me up yesterday as she drung me down the hall at the Olinger's to the chair where I usually nurse her when we're out there. She said, "Mere, Mom!" and took my finger and pulled me down the hall. She pointed to the chair and said, "You sit here. Nursing you!" I guess she wanted to nurse... Then, while nursing, she smacked me with an open handed slap on my belly, giggled and said, "I'm so silly! I silly!" Although it was likely the wrong thing to do, I couldn't help but giggle... She has also taken to shaving years off my life by vaulting off of the top platform of the swingset into my arms -- whether or not I knew that she was going to do it... Scares the heck outta me...
She's also been protesting her diaper. "My bum! My bum! My bum!" she says... Yes, it is your bum, but until your bum knows how to use the potty, your bum will be in a diaper. And not the one that you put on yourself... You know, the backwards one jammed between your legs that leaves your whole backside hanging in the wind... Yeah... Your bum will be in the diaper I put it in, little missy! "No, it's MY bum!" appears to be a battle cry.
Milo has been a conundrum lately -- he's so whiny that I think he's forgotten how to talk using a regular voice, but then he'll be startlingly sweet and kind about the most unexpected things. On Tuesday night, I took the kids to Subway solo because I was starting to feel icky and didn't really want to cook. I managed to get their food ordered, no small feat considering that the kids working the counter had smaller attention spans than my children. We sat down at the table and as I was portioning out food, Violet spilled half of her milk on the table. We had two napkins. Two... Who thought THAT was a good idea? After I finally managed to get another four napkins from the dimwitted teenaged cashier and mop up the mess, I sat down to eat with my left hand and help Violet with my right. Milo was sitting across the booth from us, eagerly chowing down on his "foot-long" (a six-inch spicy Italian). He watched me carefully -- feedign a toddler in a restaurant is akin to training an octopus -- and remarked softly, "Wow, mom, it looks like it is hard to eat and take care of someone at the same time." Yeah, that's my sweetie... Tears sprung to my eyes as his little round face looked at me with admiration. Yep, that pretty much made me feel like a heel for being annoyed with him whining mere minutes before...
And onto what has occupied the majority of my week: a sudden and harsh case of pneumonia. Completely out of the blue. As in Tuesday morning I wake up sneezing and think, "Gee, my allergies are pretty annoying today" and Wednesday at noon I'm trying to convince a doctor that I don't have swine flu and that I don't need to be hospitalized. Although I do apparently need a chest x-ray, in-office nebulizer treatment, a shot in the bum (rocephrine), two oral antibiotics (zythromax and augmentin), oral steroids, albuterol in both nebulizer and inhaler forms, and ibuprofen for the 102 degree fever. So not cool. I'm still hacking and I have oh-so-sexy man voice. What fun! I paid a sitter to sleep at the house in case I needed help Wednesday night and was off work until today.
I just can't believe how crazy it is that I haven't been sick in ages, then both times I get flat-on-my-back SICK sick, Scott's out of town. I managed to get some rest this weekend, but the kids wanted to be outside with daddy as he worked on their playset, so that meant supervising them outdoors, where my allergies aren't likely to speed recovery. I needed a day to loll about in bed, but aside from a Thursday morning nap, that didn't really happen, either. Oh, I was plenty lazy, but I didn't really REST rest, if you know what I mean. Thursday night Milo woke up croupy at 2 AM, so he and I were snuggled on the deck for a while, then I brought him back to bed with me -- not particularly relaxing as he flipped sideways in the bed and actually kicked me in the face. Then I rescued him three times from falling onto the floor. So not too much sleep that night, either. Violet has been waking once a night again, but I am luckily able to nurse her for a few minutes, then put her back down and she rolls right over onto her tummy, bum in the air. Anyway -- Milo went to the doctor where he was diagnosed with a cold and croup and prescribed steroids, which I will not give to him. Are you kidding me? He's amped up and whiny enough as it is -- I can't imagine him roid raging on top of being almost four... no way, baby!
In the meantime, the crazy amount of antibiotics in my system have done two good things and a bad thing. The bad thing, of course, is destroy the good flora in my digestive tract. Hence my yogurt all the time diet. The good things? Well, the pneumonia has been tamed into a bad chest cold. And the skin on my face is pristine! Who knew...
OK. QUITE a while... Like, two weeks. What have I been up to?
Work: Busy, busy, busy... roll-out events, guests on campus, redoing the budget forms for one of my programs, on and on -- good, yes. Unfortunately the college is struggling with budgetary issues and it sounds like Scott and I will both be receiving a 2% pay cut next year. Ouch! And the college will be reducing their contribution to our retirement accounts, boo, hiss... We'll be OK overall, but it's not gonna be a fun year by any means, and who knows what will happen next year.
Play: Scott's been hard at work on the kids' playset -- it now has rubber mulch underneath and a roof on the platform -- very cute. I think we'll stain it caramel color and paint the roof green to match the hardware. On to more landscaping stuff -- before the dogs smash all of the hostas that I just transplanted. I think I foresee a big dumpster in our future and a week of Scotty cleaning out and throwing away crap from the garage.
Other: Scott was in NYC from the 17-22 for the Broadway Lighting Master Classes. I think he got something from them, though maybe not as much as he expected. Ah, well... He did get to eat some pretty good food and see some good shows, something about which I am infinitely jealous.
Kids: Both kids are doing pretty well. Violet cracked me up yesterday as she drung me down the hall at the Olinger's to the chair where I usually nurse her when we're out there. She said, "Mere, Mom!" and took my finger and pulled me down the hall. She pointed to the chair and said, "You sit here. Nursing you!" I guess she wanted to nurse... Then, while nursing, she smacked me with an open handed slap on my belly, giggled and said, "I'm so silly! I silly!" Although it was likely the wrong thing to do, I couldn't help but giggle... She has also taken to shaving years off my life by vaulting off of the top platform of the swingset into my arms -- whether or not I knew that she was going to do it... Scares the heck outta me...
She's also been protesting her diaper. "My bum! My bum! My bum!" she says... Yes, it is your bum, but until your bum knows how to use the potty, your bum will be in a diaper. And not the one that you put on yourself... You know, the backwards one jammed between your legs that leaves your whole backside hanging in the wind... Yeah... Your bum will be in the diaper I put it in, little missy! "No, it's MY bum!" appears to be a battle cry.
Milo has been a conundrum lately -- he's so whiny that I think he's forgotten how to talk using a regular voice, but then he'll be startlingly sweet and kind about the most unexpected things. On Tuesday night, I took the kids to Subway solo because I was starting to feel icky and didn't really want to cook. I managed to get their food ordered, no small feat considering that the kids working the counter had smaller attention spans than my children. We sat down at the table and as I was portioning out food, Violet spilled half of her milk on the table. We had two napkins. Two... Who thought THAT was a good idea? After I finally managed to get another four napkins from the dimwitted teenaged cashier and mop up the mess, I sat down to eat with my left hand and help Violet with my right. Milo was sitting across the booth from us, eagerly chowing down on his "foot-long" (a six-inch spicy Italian). He watched me carefully -- feedign a toddler in a restaurant is akin to training an octopus -- and remarked softly, "Wow, mom, it looks like it is hard to eat and take care of someone at the same time." Yeah, that's my sweetie... Tears sprung to my eyes as his little round face looked at me with admiration. Yep, that pretty much made me feel like a heel for being annoyed with him whining mere minutes before...
And onto what has occupied the majority of my week: a sudden and harsh case of pneumonia. Completely out of the blue. As in Tuesday morning I wake up sneezing and think, "Gee, my allergies are pretty annoying today" and Wednesday at noon I'm trying to convince a doctor that I don't have swine flu and that I don't need to be hospitalized. Although I do apparently need a chest x-ray, in-office nebulizer treatment, a shot in the bum (rocephrine), two oral antibiotics (zythromax and augmentin), oral steroids, albuterol in both nebulizer and inhaler forms, and ibuprofen for the 102 degree fever. So not cool. I'm still hacking and I have oh-so-sexy man voice. What fun! I paid a sitter to sleep at the house in case I needed help Wednesday night and was off work until today.
I just can't believe how crazy it is that I haven't been sick in ages, then both times I get flat-on-my-back SICK sick, Scott's out of town. I managed to get some rest this weekend, but the kids wanted to be outside with daddy as he worked on their playset, so that meant supervising them outdoors, where my allergies aren't likely to speed recovery. I needed a day to loll about in bed, but aside from a Thursday morning nap, that didn't really happen, either. Oh, I was plenty lazy, but I didn't really REST rest, if you know what I mean. Thursday night Milo woke up croupy at 2 AM, so he and I were snuggled on the deck for a while, then I brought him back to bed with me -- not particularly relaxing as he flipped sideways in the bed and actually kicked me in the face. Then I rescued him three times from falling onto the floor. So not too much sleep that night, either. Violet has been waking once a night again, but I am luckily able to nurse her for a few minutes, then put her back down and she rolls right over onto her tummy, bum in the air. Anyway -- Milo went to the doctor where he was diagnosed with a cold and croup and prescribed steroids, which I will not give to him. Are you kidding me? He's amped up and whiny enough as it is -- I can't imagine him roid raging on top of being almost four... no way, baby!
In the meantime, the crazy amount of antibiotics in my system have done two good things and a bad thing. The bad thing, of course, is destroy the good flora in my digestive tract. Hence my yogurt all the time diet. The good things? Well, the pneumonia has been tamed into a bad chest cold. And the skin on my face is pristine! Who knew...
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Figuring
I cannot believe that nearly a month has elapsed since my last entry. Bad girl!
It has been quite a month, too. Scott has made several trips -- Nashville (Ass-ville, according to Milo), Connecticut, and now Cincinnati. I've taken on increasing responsibilities at work, culminating in the visit of a guest speaker/author/physician today. And we have interviewed three candidates in four working days for my supervisor's position. My first choice was offered the position and she *eagerly* accepted on the spot. I am thrilled!
Violet is talking more and more. Last night, she had a fit because while the kids were bathing in the tub, I was pawing through the clean clothes in the dryer to find clothing suitable for an indoor day at daycare. In the process of looking for clean clothes, I pulled out a pair of her new pajamas, then put them back in the dryer. When the kids were done with their baths, I was drying her off, Milo was shrugging into his new pajamas and I reached for the pair she'd worn the night before. She saw them, glared at me, crossed her arms so that I couldn't slip them into her sleeves, and said, "No! Nunnah! Nunnah!"
Clearly confused, I said, "It's time for your jammies!"
"Noooo! Nunnah! Nunnah!"
I realized she wanted something else. I let her down from my lap and she scrambled up the step and into the bathroom, where she pointed at the dryer, calling, "Nunnah! Nunnah!" I fished out the new jammies and held them up to her. She beamed, nodding and approving, "Huh! Huh!" Apparently, eighteen months is the time at which girls become insistent on their appearance...
Milo, on the other hand, is finding himself seeing the world through the eyes of his best friend. Particularly when it comes to what he's wearing. If I suggest something, he'll answer, "Yes! Mark likes that shirt!" or "No. Mark doesn't like that..." He feels too young to be concerned about what the world is thinking of him, but this anxiety has been coming on for about a year and I don't see it abating. He is still very afraid to enter a room full of strangers for fear that they are looking t him. He is fine entering or leaving s store or a place where he is anonymous, but anywhere I need to introduce him makes him petrified. He tenses his entire body, flushes, and climbs me like a tree.
I don't want him to be so concerned with the rest of the world -- but he wants to do things right and worries that he'll make mistakes. I try to point out to him all of the times I've made mistakes and have no issue in making mistakes, correcting myself, and pointing it out to him, but his inner perfectionist is growing louder and louder. I know how he feels -- I was that kid, and so was Scott. Scott doesn't believe me, but I think that his intellectual development is just enough ahead of his emotional development that he's struggling because he understands more than his emotions can handle. He is a bright and perceptive child. He asks outstanding questions about his world and observes so many things that I miss or overlook. But I think with that ability comes caution and he's very cautions of new situations. He doesn't like to try anything until he's certain that when he DOES try, he'll get it right. So we've introduced the concept of practicing to him. It helps some.
Violet, on the other hand, seems to have not a care in the world. Oh, sure she's got opinions and prefers it when she gets her way, but her general attitude sort of suggests that she knows no one is really paying THAT much attention to her (in the grand scheme of things) and that as long as she looks like she knows what she's doing, she is probably doing it right. I never really see her fail at anything, though, because she has an unusual combination of persistence and patience. She'll keep at it until she gets it because she is generally not frustrated by much. She's a very capable toddler, for certain, dressing herself and feeding herself -- she prefers an open cup these days to a sippy and properly uses a spoon and fork (most of the time).
It is so very interesting to me to watch them become the people that they are -- someone said to me today, "Having another child seems crazy at this point -- I feel like I just got this one figured out!" I guess if you have them close enough together you don't get that feeling of having figured a child out -- I know I haven't gotten Milo completely figured out and certainly not Miss Independent. Then again, I'm not sure I have ME figured out yet...
It has been quite a month, too. Scott has made several trips -- Nashville (Ass-ville, according to Milo), Connecticut, and now Cincinnati. I've taken on increasing responsibilities at work, culminating in the visit of a guest speaker/author/physician today. And we have interviewed three candidates in four working days for my supervisor's position. My first choice was offered the position and she *eagerly* accepted on the spot. I am thrilled!
Violet is talking more and more. Last night, she had a fit because while the kids were bathing in the tub, I was pawing through the clean clothes in the dryer to find clothing suitable for an indoor day at daycare. In the process of looking for clean clothes, I pulled out a pair of her new pajamas, then put them back in the dryer. When the kids were done with their baths, I was drying her off, Milo was shrugging into his new pajamas and I reached for the pair she'd worn the night before. She saw them, glared at me, crossed her arms so that I couldn't slip them into her sleeves, and said, "No! Nunnah! Nunnah!"
Clearly confused, I said, "It's time for your jammies!"
"Noooo! Nunnah! Nunnah!"
I realized she wanted something else. I let her down from my lap and she scrambled up the step and into the bathroom, where she pointed at the dryer, calling, "Nunnah! Nunnah!" I fished out the new jammies and held them up to her. She beamed, nodding and approving, "Huh! Huh!" Apparently, eighteen months is the time at which girls become insistent on their appearance...
Milo, on the other hand, is finding himself seeing the world through the eyes of his best friend. Particularly when it comes to what he's wearing. If I suggest something, he'll answer, "Yes! Mark likes that shirt!" or "No. Mark doesn't like that..." He feels too young to be concerned about what the world is thinking of him, but this anxiety has been coming on for about a year and I don't see it abating. He is still very afraid to enter a room full of strangers for fear that they are looking t him. He is fine entering or leaving s store or a place where he is anonymous, but anywhere I need to introduce him makes him petrified. He tenses his entire body, flushes, and climbs me like a tree.
I don't want him to be so concerned with the rest of the world -- but he wants to do things right and worries that he'll make mistakes. I try to point out to him all of the times I've made mistakes and have no issue in making mistakes, correcting myself, and pointing it out to him, but his inner perfectionist is growing louder and louder. I know how he feels -- I was that kid, and so was Scott. Scott doesn't believe me, but I think that his intellectual development is just enough ahead of his emotional development that he's struggling because he understands more than his emotions can handle. He is a bright and perceptive child. He asks outstanding questions about his world and observes so many things that I miss or overlook. But I think with that ability comes caution and he's very cautions of new situations. He doesn't like to try anything until he's certain that when he DOES try, he'll get it right. So we've introduced the concept of practicing to him. It helps some.
Violet, on the other hand, seems to have not a care in the world. Oh, sure she's got opinions and prefers it when she gets her way, but her general attitude sort of suggests that she knows no one is really paying THAT much attention to her (in the grand scheme of things) and that as long as she looks like she knows what she's doing, she is probably doing it right. I never really see her fail at anything, though, because she has an unusual combination of persistence and patience. She'll keep at it until she gets it because she is generally not frustrated by much. She's a very capable toddler, for certain, dressing herself and feeding herself -- she prefers an open cup these days to a sippy and properly uses a spoon and fork (most of the time).
It is so very interesting to me to watch them become the people that they are -- someone said to me today, "Having another child seems crazy at this point -- I feel like I just got this one figured out!" I guess if you have them close enough together you don't get that feeling of having figured a child out -- I know I haven't gotten Milo completely figured out and certainly not Miss Independent. Then again, I'm not sure I have ME figured out yet...
Monday, January 12, 2009
Well, poop!
Miss Violet has been under the weather. She vomited twice on Thursday night, but has had pretty bad diarrhea since then, though she's also got a good case of "boob-in-the-mouth-itis" and is not dehydrated in the least. Today she's only pooped once and it was much more solid than it has been, so I think she's fine to go to daycare tomorrow, yay!
Anyway, Scott's in a town about 85 miles away for the opera -- this is the same company that was flooded out this summer and they ended up taking a huge loss, so they are remounting an opera from a couple of years ago, but they had to move it to a different theatre -- 85 miles away instead of 20 miles away. With the late hours, there's no way Scott can commute, so he's up there until Thursday. Violet was too poopy yesterday for me to send her to daycare, so I took Milo to the sitter's and brought Vivi to work with me for a few hours this morning. Leaving the house almost on time was the EASY part this morning.
There's a blizzard, so it's snowing like mad out there and the temps are supposed to plummet tonight. Violet and I work for about a hour and a half before she conks out on my lap. I'm able to work another half an hour that way, which is fine. Why is it necessary that I get in to work with a sick kid on my lap? One of my bosses has resigned her position effective next Thursday. So, I gots lots to do!
Anyway, I bundled Violet up in the stroller like we're mushing across Alaska and we get into my office and get a bunch of stuff done, then I bundle her up and trudge across campus in the two inches of snow that have already fallen and make a delivery, then we hike back to my office and pack up for the morning. I know I'd be pushing her limits to have her there for longer than 3 1/2 or 4 hours.
At this point, I realize that there will likely be a snow emergency called, so I swing by the house while I only have one child with me and move Scott's car off of our street and onto a non-emergency route side street. Run back up the hill to get to Violet and drive to the sitters to pick up Milo. Sitter offers to keep Violet since she hasn't pooped yet and wasn't running a fever, but I'm exhausted by this point and think it will be easier to just go home NOW and hole up rather than try to get back out later after another four inches of snow has fallen... The kids and I park at the bottom of the hill and climb back up to our house and now both of them are napping.
All the while I am silently cursing Scott for abandoning me with a sick kid, an urgent situation at work, and a snow storm. Until I call him to find out how things are up North and he sounds like hell -- because he's been up all night vomiting. Now he can just stay up there until he's feeling better -- I have no need for more germs, thank you very much!
Anyway, Scott's in a town about 85 miles away for the opera -- this is the same company that was flooded out this summer and they ended up taking a huge loss, so they are remounting an opera from a couple of years ago, but they had to move it to a different theatre -- 85 miles away instead of 20 miles away. With the late hours, there's no way Scott can commute, so he's up there until Thursday. Violet was too poopy yesterday for me to send her to daycare, so I took Milo to the sitter's and brought Vivi to work with me for a few hours this morning. Leaving the house almost on time was the EASY part this morning.
There's a blizzard, so it's snowing like mad out there and the temps are supposed to plummet tonight. Violet and I work for about a hour and a half before she conks out on my lap. I'm able to work another half an hour that way, which is fine. Why is it necessary that I get in to work with a sick kid on my lap? One of my bosses has resigned her position effective next Thursday. So, I gots lots to do!
Anyway, I bundled Violet up in the stroller like we're mushing across Alaska and we get into my office and get a bunch of stuff done, then I bundle her up and trudge across campus in the two inches of snow that have already fallen and make a delivery, then we hike back to my office and pack up for the morning. I know I'd be pushing her limits to have her there for longer than 3 1/2 or 4 hours.
At this point, I realize that there will likely be a snow emergency called, so I swing by the house while I only have one child with me and move Scott's car off of our street and onto a non-emergency route side street. Run back up the hill to get to Violet and drive to the sitters to pick up Milo. Sitter offers to keep Violet since she hasn't pooped yet and wasn't running a fever, but I'm exhausted by this point and think it will be easier to just go home NOW and hole up rather than try to get back out later after another four inches of snow has fallen... The kids and I park at the bottom of the hill and climb back up to our house and now both of them are napping.
All the while I am silently cursing Scott for abandoning me with a sick kid, an urgent situation at work, and a snow storm. Until I call him to find out how things are up North and he sounds like hell -- because he's been up all night vomiting. Now he can just stay up there until he's feeling better -- I have no need for more germs, thank you very much!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)