Just a quick Public Service Announcement:
If it is drizzling or sprinkling outside, you DO NOT need to put your windshield wipers on hyper-drive. It only makes you look like a paranoid idiot.
And while we’re on rain and driving, just because the road is slightly damp, there is no need to drive 20 mph under the speed limit. Also, slamming on your brakes when someone pulls into your lane 17 car lengths in front of you is just not necessary.
Thank you.
*Holly - I will try to post some greenery pics this week. It's been raining since Friday and isn't supposed to stop until the weekend, so I may be out in my rain slicker and galoshes taking these pics. :)
Monday, May 4, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
I love me some hot weather
It was beeeautiful this weekend. Friday it was about 75, Saturday 92, and Sunday 96. Ahhh…the heat. I love it.
I planted thyme, basil, spearmint, and cilantro in our herb garden and then transplanted marigolds, geraniums, and a few other flowers to pots in the backyard. We also transplanted the grapevines to the fence, and I admired my 13 cantaloupe sprouts. The hubs constructed a hanging tomato plant container, I laid out in the sun (with sunscreen on, of course), while the munchkin swam in her pool in the shade.
What a weekend.
It would only be better if we were doing all this in Texas.
I planted thyme, basil, spearmint, and cilantro in our herb garden and then transplanted marigolds, geraniums, and a few other flowers to pots in the backyard. We also transplanted the grapevines to the fence, and I admired my 13 cantaloupe sprouts. The hubs constructed a hanging tomato plant container, I laid out in the sun (with sunscreen on, of course), while the munchkin swam in her pool in the shade.
What a weekend.
It would only be better if we were doing all this in Texas.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
My little seal
The munchkin has croup. The cough started on Monday, but she had no fever and didn’t have to go to daycare that day. She had a few coughing fits over the next couple of nights and when she would wake up from a nap, but I honestly didn’t think it was anything serious because she’s had allergy problems over the last week and a half, and I thought that this was a result of post-nasal drip. She was at daycare yesterday, and sure enough she had a low-grade fever. The hubs took her to the dr, and they prescribed ten days of Amoxicillin and three days of Prednisolone. I HATE that she’s on a steroid. It makes me terribly nervous, but after the first dose last night, the coughing fits were less seal bark-like. She still had two fits last night, but it honestly just sounded like a normal cold-like cough.
But giving her that first dose was like a night with Linda Blair part deux. That medicine tasted so bad – the pharmacist warned me about it, and I even tasted it myself. It was horribly bitter and lingered in your mouth. I gave her about ¼ teaspoon (the dosage is ¾ tsp) and tried to follow it with juice, but she immediately started coughing from the awful taste. It wasn’t ten seconds later that we had projectile vomit. She had just eaten (food is required with this medicine), so she was still in her booster seat. I took the tray to the sink, but unfortunately, she was not done. She puked two more times. It was everywhere…her shirt, pants, hands, and feet, the booster seat, chair, floor, and rug. Needless to say, she had a bath in the deep sink in the garage. The next attempt was while she was having a bottle, and we were much more successful.
She really is in good spirits and acts like nothing is wrong. She’s talking, playing, and laughing as usual, which makes me feel better about the whole situation.
My poor munchkin. Daycare is the devil.
But giving her that first dose was like a night with Linda Blair part deux. That medicine tasted so bad – the pharmacist warned me about it, and I even tasted it myself. It was horribly bitter and lingered in your mouth. I gave her about ¼ teaspoon (the dosage is ¾ tsp) and tried to follow it with juice, but she immediately started coughing from the awful taste. It wasn’t ten seconds later that we had projectile vomit. She had just eaten (food is required with this medicine), so she was still in her booster seat. I took the tray to the sink, but unfortunately, she was not done. She puked two more times. It was everywhere…her shirt, pants, hands, and feet, the booster seat, chair, floor, and rug. Needless to say, she had a bath in the deep sink in the garage. The next attempt was while she was having a bottle, and we were much more successful.
She really is in good spirits and acts like nothing is wrong. She’s talking, playing, and laughing as usual, which makes me feel better about the whole situation.
My poor munchkin. Daycare is the devil.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
No matter what anyone says, money IS important
I have a good life.
I have a beautiful, healthy baby girl. I have a husband that takes very good care of us. No, we don't have a perfect relationship, but we get along well enough. I have a house, a yard, a car, some sweet dogs, a full time job (in today's market, that's an achievement), and some money in savings.
Yet, somehow, I am STILL jealous.
I have a friend who is a year younger than me. We graduated together from college, but because her friend's dad was a big-wig at an oil/gas company, she got a job BEFORE she even got her diploma. She's making at least twice what I make now. And don't let me forget to mention her husband. He took a pay cut to join the current company he's with, but he's still making nearly $100K/year. He was making $160K at his last job, but he went to the current company because they practically guaranteed him over $200K/year in less than eight years. They have traveled to so many places. In the fall, he went to Dubai, Malaysia, and Brazil. Last spring, they went to Costa Rica. They go to Denmark on a regular basis because he's from there, and once last year they also went to Norway. They went to Sedona on a weekend spa getaway. For their honeymoon? Crete. Since Christmas, she went to Miami for a bachelorette party, he went to Acapulco for a bachelor party (I mean, that's where we went on our honeymoon!), and they went to Playa del Carmen on a trip completely paid for by his company. They're going to Denmark again next month and then to St. Thomas with us in June. Oh, and they just sold their house...they're making $70K on it...in this effin market. I was flabbergasted.
My life is great, but is it wrong for me to be jealous of hers? I mean, I think it's only natural to be somewhat jealous of certain people in our lives. To be able to just go and do whatever and whenever, to have a practically indispensable cash flow...ugh.
Can't I just have a little...please?
I have a beautiful, healthy baby girl. I have a husband that takes very good care of us. No, we don't have a perfect relationship, but we get along well enough. I have a house, a yard, a car, some sweet dogs, a full time job (in today's market, that's an achievement), and some money in savings.
Yet, somehow, I am STILL jealous.
I have a friend who is a year younger than me. We graduated together from college, but because her friend's dad was a big-wig at an oil/gas company, she got a job BEFORE she even got her diploma. She's making at least twice what I make now. And don't let me forget to mention her husband. He took a pay cut to join the current company he's with, but he's still making nearly $100K/year. He was making $160K at his last job, but he went to the current company because they practically guaranteed him over $200K/year in less than eight years. They have traveled to so many places. In the fall, he went to Dubai, Malaysia, and Brazil. Last spring, they went to Costa Rica. They go to Denmark on a regular basis because he's from there, and once last year they also went to Norway. They went to Sedona on a weekend spa getaway. For their honeymoon? Crete. Since Christmas, she went to Miami for a bachelorette party, he went to Acapulco for a bachelor party (I mean, that's where we went on our honeymoon!), and they went to Playa del Carmen on a trip completely paid for by his company. They're going to Denmark again next month and then to St. Thomas with us in June. Oh, and they just sold their house...they're making $70K on it...in this effin market. I was flabbergasted.
My life is great, but is it wrong for me to be jealous of hers? I mean, I think it's only natural to be somewhat jealous of certain people in our lives. To be able to just go and do whatever and whenever, to have a practically indispensable cash flow...ugh.
Can't I just have a little...please?
Friday, April 17, 2009
Prepare for lots of tears
Need a cry fest? Click here. Unbelievably heartbreaking.
I was going to post about our theme for last week's trip to see the hubs ("I wish you had feelings, you bastard GPS"), but I'm just too emotional after reading about Maddie, that sweet baby girl in the link above. I wasn't going to read/watch because I just can't handle that stuff, but something drew me to it.
It really makes you appreciate what you have, which is why I'm letting my munchkin consume way too many M&Ms at this very moment.
I was going to post about our theme for last week's trip to see the hubs ("I wish you had feelings, you bastard GPS"), but I'm just too emotional after reading about Maddie, that sweet baby girl in the link above. I wasn't going to read/watch because I just can't handle that stuff, but something drew me to it.
It really makes you appreciate what you have, which is why I'm letting my munchkin consume way too many M&Ms at this very moment.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
For sanity's fucking sake
I feel as though, once again, I have my very own stalker.
Wait…let me rephrase that. My MUNCHKIN has her own stalker. Yes, already, at only 16 months.
This person’s name…MIL.
Let me begin by saying she is driving me up the mother fucking wall, across the ceiling, and back down again. She has to know every single itty bitty detail of munchkin’s existence. And it doesn’t help that the hubs fuels the fire by telling her nearly every single itty bitty detail.
For example, last week’s night with Linda Blair. Hubs told MIL about it, so the next day, FIL sends an email to me. I reply with what happened and how munchkin was doing, which was perfectly fine. MIL decides to send me an email about it later in the afternoon, to which I did not reply because I was actually working. At around 5:15, MIL calls. I was rocking munchkin, so I missed her call. Forty-five minutes later, MIL calls again. This time munchkin was sleeping in my arms, so I didn’t answer. Another 45 mother fucking minutes later, she calls again. This time, I was cooking, and my phone was nowhere near me. I called her back about 20 minutes later, and guess what…she is on the other line and doesn’t answer. I’m thinking, unreal. FIL calls me like 10 minutes after this. We talk a little more about munchkin and the dinner we had together just the night before (they were here the 3rd – 6th…all these effin phone calls took place the 7th). I say goodnight to FIL, and we hang up. Less than five minutes later, MIL calls me for the fourth fucking time, I shit you not. I see her name on the caller ID and think, YOU’VE GOT TO BE SHITTING ME!!! What does she want to know? The same shit I just got through telling FIL. He told her everything I said, but she “just had to talk to me herself.” Ho-ly smokes.
So Friday rolls around, and the hubs is deployed for his every-eight-weeks-two-week-tour. The munchkin and I decide to go visit him for the weekend because of Easter. I get a text from none other than MIL while I was driving asking if I was getting off early. I carefully texted back, “already on the road.” Oh, I have to say that the night before, she sent me an email telling me to let her know when we left the house to go see hubs and when we arrived at said destination. Ho-ly balls, my own mother doesn’t keep tabs on us like this. When we arrived, I asked the hubs, “Have you spoken to your parents yet?” “No, is something wrong?” he replies. I immediately texted my FIL for fear of another effin phone call. I didn’t hear back from him until around 9:00 when he texted, “Good. We were just getting ready to call.”
On Sunday, we left the hubs around noon (it’s about a three hour drive). I got a phone call from none other than my MIL when we were only 20 minutes from home.
MIL “When are you leaving?”
Me “I’m driving now.”
MIL “Is the hubs asleep?”**
Me “How the fuck would I know? I’m DRIVING.” No, I didn’t really say this, though I was TOTALLY thinking it. I said, “I have no idea. We’re only 20 minutes from home.”
MIL “Oh, well, I called him a few times, but he didn’t answer.”
Hellllloooo?!? He’s probably sleeping for Christ’s sake! He works the 11pm-6am shift, woman!! She then proceeds to go on about something, and all the while the munchkin is getting cranked up. She is so ready to get out of that car seat, and it’s all I can do to keep her occupied. MIL hears her getting upset, acknowledges it, but doesn’t stop talking. She keeps going on about the stuff she’s collecting for the munchkin to use while we are on vacation in a few months. Do I give a rat’s ass right now? Um, no. Is it illegal to drive and talk on the phone in my state? Hell-to-the-yes. Does she know this? Ding ding ding!! My frustration was mounting when she finally says, “Well, it sounds like you’re nearly home, so I’ll let you go.” Praise the sweet Lord for His mercy.
Is there really any question as to why my phone stays on vibrate 24 hours/day?
**Obviously, MIL did not say “the hubs,” but for sanity’s sake, his name will be left out.
Wait…let me rephrase that. My MUNCHKIN has her own stalker. Yes, already, at only 16 months.
This person’s name…MIL.
Let me begin by saying she is driving me up the mother fucking wall, across the ceiling, and back down again. She has to know every single itty bitty detail of munchkin’s existence. And it doesn’t help that the hubs fuels the fire by telling her nearly every single itty bitty detail.
For example, last week’s night with Linda Blair. Hubs told MIL about it, so the next day, FIL sends an email to me. I reply with what happened and how munchkin was doing, which was perfectly fine. MIL decides to send me an email about it later in the afternoon, to which I did not reply because I was actually working. At around 5:15, MIL calls. I was rocking munchkin, so I missed her call. Forty-five minutes later, MIL calls again. This time munchkin was sleeping in my arms, so I didn’t answer. Another 45 mother fucking minutes later, she calls again. This time, I was cooking, and my phone was nowhere near me. I called her back about 20 minutes later, and guess what…she is on the other line and doesn’t answer. I’m thinking, unreal. FIL calls me like 10 minutes after this. We talk a little more about munchkin and the dinner we had together just the night before (they were here the 3rd – 6th…all these effin phone calls took place the 7th). I say goodnight to FIL, and we hang up. Less than five minutes later, MIL calls me for the fourth fucking time, I shit you not. I see her name on the caller ID and think, YOU’VE GOT TO BE SHITTING ME!!! What does she want to know? The same shit I just got through telling FIL. He told her everything I said, but she “just had to talk to me herself.” Ho-ly smokes.
So Friday rolls around, and the hubs is deployed for his every-eight-weeks-two-week-tour. The munchkin and I decide to go visit him for the weekend because of Easter. I get a text from none other than MIL while I was driving asking if I was getting off early. I carefully texted back, “already on the road.” Oh, I have to say that the night before, she sent me an email telling me to let her know when we left the house to go see hubs and when we arrived at said destination. Ho-ly balls, my own mother doesn’t keep tabs on us like this. When we arrived, I asked the hubs, “Have you spoken to your parents yet?” “No, is something wrong?” he replies. I immediately texted my FIL for fear of another effin phone call. I didn’t hear back from him until around 9:00 when he texted, “Good. We were just getting ready to call.”
On Sunday, we left the hubs around noon (it’s about a three hour drive). I got a phone call from none other than my MIL when we were only 20 minutes from home.
MIL “When are you leaving?”
Me “I’m driving now.”
MIL “Is the hubs asleep?”**
Me “How the fuck would I know? I’m DRIVING.” No, I didn’t really say this, though I was TOTALLY thinking it. I said, “I have no idea. We’re only 20 minutes from home.”
MIL “Oh, well, I called him a few times, but he didn’t answer.”
Hellllloooo?!? He’s probably sleeping for Christ’s sake! He works the 11pm-6am shift, woman!! She then proceeds to go on about something, and all the while the munchkin is getting cranked up. She is so ready to get out of that car seat, and it’s all I can do to keep her occupied. MIL hears her getting upset, acknowledges it, but doesn’t stop talking. She keeps going on about the stuff she’s collecting for the munchkin to use while we are on vacation in a few months. Do I give a rat’s ass right now? Um, no. Is it illegal to drive and talk on the phone in my state? Hell-to-the-yes. Does she know this? Ding ding ding!! My frustration was mounting when she finally says, “Well, it sounds like you’re nearly home, so I’ll let you go.” Praise the sweet Lord for His mercy.
Is there really any question as to why my phone stays on vibrate 24 hours/day?
**Obviously, MIL did not say “the hubs,” but for sanity’s sake, his name will be left out.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
My night with Linda Blair
So last night, the munchkin and I were in bed, and she was having her nighttime bottle (yes, we do that…for now). She was slurping it down pretty fast. She pushed the bottle away from her mouth when she was done (like normal) but then she sat up pretty quickly. She laid her head on my stomach, sat up again, and then puked all over my chest and stomach. Before I could get the lamp on, she laid her head back down on my chest…in the barf.
The part I was most bothered by was seeing the right side of her face covered in puke. Before I sat up, I pulled her shirt off and wiped her face with it (as she started squealing in delight). I ripped the barf-stained comforter off, followed by my shirt (this took careful planning as I had to avoid any pouring off onto the carpet). In the bathroom, I wiped myself off really well, tipped my head forward, and still smelled sour milk. I had to give both of us a sponge bath in the sink (a second shower was just not an option…we took a shower together only thirty minutes before this). Amazingly, none got in my hair. I rinsed our shirts off in the shower and then had to clean out the green beans left in the drain.
I had just put new sheets on the bed not ten minutes before this nightmare, so I had to re-make it. We had to go back downstairs so that I could deposit the barf-stained linens at the washing machine area and to get the munchkin a new shirt. I ended up heating about 5 oz. of milk for her, but I was extremely hesitant about it. I tried to put her back down without the milk, but she was having too much fun bouncing around the bed (especially since Daddy wasn’t there to take up half the bed). I only let her have an ounce of milk, but that was enough to put her out. She slept fine after that and woke up as perky as ever.
Wouldn’t it be great if we could all have a barfing episode only to come out of it happy and feeling like a million bucks? I think I’d weigh a hell of a lot less.
The part I was most bothered by was seeing the right side of her face covered in puke. Before I sat up, I pulled her shirt off and wiped her face with it (as she started squealing in delight). I ripped the barf-stained comforter off, followed by my shirt (this took careful planning as I had to avoid any pouring off onto the carpet). In the bathroom, I wiped myself off really well, tipped my head forward, and still smelled sour milk. I had to give both of us a sponge bath in the sink (a second shower was just not an option…we took a shower together only thirty minutes before this). Amazingly, none got in my hair. I rinsed our shirts off in the shower and then had to clean out the green beans left in the drain.
I had just put new sheets on the bed not ten minutes before this nightmare, so I had to re-make it. We had to go back downstairs so that I could deposit the barf-stained linens at the washing machine area and to get the munchkin a new shirt. I ended up heating about 5 oz. of milk for her, but I was extremely hesitant about it. I tried to put her back down without the milk, but she was having too much fun bouncing around the bed (especially since Daddy wasn’t there to take up half the bed). I only let her have an ounce of milk, but that was enough to put her out. She slept fine after that and woke up as perky as ever.
Wouldn’t it be great if we could all have a barfing episode only to come out of it happy and feeling like a million bucks? I think I’d weigh a hell of a lot less.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
The devil hunts Easter eggs
Tonight the hubs heads out for DC once again. This time the munchkin and I will be going to visit. We’re heading down on Friday and coming back Sunday. I’m not so thrilled about not going to church on Easter (yes, we are those people that only go to church on holidays…I don’t like this, but it’s just the way it is until we agree on a denomination), but at least we’ll be spending time together as a family. I’m praying that the weather will be nice so that we can have a picnic at one of the memorial parks. I’ve got the munchkin’s Easter basket goodies all ready to go, and I plan on dying a half dozen eggs that she can hunt.
While we’re on the topic of Easter egg hunts…what is it about mean-ass kids and hunting fucking plastic eggs? The hubs’ work had an Easter egg hunt on Saturday, and the first kids to go were 3 and under. We only had about 30 seconds to hunt before the big kids broke out of their cage. This wasn’t the plan, but those kids couldn’t contain themselves any longer. I was coaxing my munchkin to an egg, and she was only a foot away when these two brats ran up and grabbed the egg. I gave them my dirtiest look, and let me tell you, I hope their stupid mothers saw. Just a word of advice…please teach your children that it is NOT polite to steal Easter eggs from babies.
Saturday I head to The Container Store in Arlington, VA. I am SO excited!!! I’ve never been but have perused through their website several times eyeing things I want. There is just something about organizational items that gets my blood pumpin’. Bacon keeper, here I come!
I will end with a poem from Office Haiku: Poems Inspired by the Daily Grind by James Rogauskas:
Late afternoon cup –
The coffee is cold and stale.
Drink it anyway.
While we’re on the topic of Easter egg hunts…what is it about mean-ass kids and hunting fucking plastic eggs? The hubs’ work had an Easter egg hunt on Saturday, and the first kids to go were 3 and under. We only had about 30 seconds to hunt before the big kids broke out of their cage. This wasn’t the plan, but those kids couldn’t contain themselves any longer. I was coaxing my munchkin to an egg, and she was only a foot away when these two brats ran up and grabbed the egg. I gave them my dirtiest look, and let me tell you, I hope their stupid mothers saw. Just a word of advice…please teach your children that it is NOT polite to steal Easter eggs from babies.
Saturday I head to The Container Store in Arlington, VA. I am SO excited!!! I’ve never been but have perused through their website several times eyeing things I want. There is just something about organizational items that gets my blood pumpin’. Bacon keeper, here I come!
I will end with a poem from Office Haiku: Poems Inspired by the Daily Grind by James Rogauskas:
Late afternoon cup –
The coffee is cold and stale.
Drink it anyway.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Leavin' on a jet plane
I couldn’t dread a tropical vacation more than I do the trip to St. Thomas in June. To make matters worse, the hubs says to me…
“I need you to take a half day to go to Cape May with me before we go to St. Thomas.”
“Why?”
“So we can go to legal…”
End conversation.
Cue crying.
It absolutely terrifies me to think about leaving my munchkin. I honestly want to cancel our trip. Actually, I’m seriously considering flying my mom out to meet us there so that she can watch the munchkin while we enjoy ourselves. I don’t think she’d mind babysitting in paradise for free.
He then adds, "We have to do it because we're both going to be on a plane, and she won't be with us." Cue hysteria.
Tell me (if anyone still reads this blog), when did you first leave your child? Was it the hardest thing ever? How old was your child?
When I think about our vacation, my hands begin to sweat, my heart rate skyrockets, and I get highly emotional. My therapist says this isn’t good.
Cue the medication.
“I need you to take a half day to go to Cape May with me before we go to St. Thomas.”
“Why?”
“So we can go to legal…”
End conversation.
Cue crying.
It absolutely terrifies me to think about leaving my munchkin. I honestly want to cancel our trip. Actually, I’m seriously considering flying my mom out to meet us there so that she can watch the munchkin while we enjoy ourselves. I don’t think she’d mind babysitting in paradise for free.
He then adds, "We have to do it because we're both going to be on a plane, and she won't be with us." Cue hysteria.
Tell me (if anyone still reads this blog), when did you first leave your child? Was it the hardest thing ever? How old was your child?
When I think about our vacation, my hands begin to sweat, my heart rate skyrockets, and I get highly emotional. My therapist says this isn’t good.
Cue the medication.
Friday, April 3, 2009
*SIGH*
I feel like life is lived by waiting on the next event. This past year and a half (almost) has been the happiest of my life, but it’s as though we’re always waiting on the next trip, vacation, family visit, etc. I just wish we could ignore the impending and thoroughly enjoy the now. My baby is growing up fast before my eyes…she’s already saying “thank you” and “uh-oh,” knows what a “kissy” is, knows what to do to put her jacket on. She runs and screams with delight. She loves the outdoors and cries when we have to come inside. She already knows and understands so much. I just want to be able to observe her more, to make thousands of mental notes about every move she makes just so I will never forget. I want to remember every smile, every tear, every laugh, every hug, every kiss, every everything.
Life, in essence, is just too damn fast.
Life, in essence, is just too damn fast.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
The Weather
Just a quick post to tell y'all how EFFING BEAUTIFUL this weekend has been! It was nearly 70 yesterday and 77 today.
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This was last weekend, if you can believe it. We got nearly 12 inches after it was all said and done!!
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This was last weekend, if you can believe it. We got nearly 12 inches after it was all said and done!!
Monday, March 2, 2009
SNOW DAY!!!
The hubs and I are the only two idiots in the state to be excited about all this snow. Over 10 INCHES, to be precise. The munchkin's daycare is closed, and neither of us had to go to work.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Florida and "The Sickness"
Hello hello.
Florida was fun. The drive down wasn't bad at all. We left that Friday night around 9:00pm and got to Savannah sometime that next morning. We dropped the dogs off at the hubs' uncle's house and went to see his grandmother at the assisted living facility. While we were there, the hubs' aunt called and said the mongrels got out. We flew back to their neighborhood (only about 2 blocks away), and the first mutt we spied was Panda way off in the distance traipsing through someone's yard. A glance down a second street found Trace. We pulled up to his uncle's house still missing three dogs, one of which, Spot, ran off last year. We hopped out of the truck and looked down the street and suddenly saw the three of them walking down the street in pack. The hubs ran down, but they had already turned off into someone's yard. He got down there, and a guy was playing with them waiting on the hubs. Effing dogs, I swear. If there is one piece of advice that I can give you, it's don't have five dogs.
But I love the bastards.
After Savannah, we headed to Florida and arrived just before 6:00 that Saturday evening. We were so effing exhausted that we went to bed at 8:00. The munchkin, at that point, had a cough and the sniffles. It only escalated through the week. Tuesday night she had a low-grade fever and woke up every 15-20 minutes, and by 4:00am she threw up all over me, herself, and the bed. That morning I called the dr, and they gave me the same shit about using a vaporizer. HELLO, MOTHER FUCKERS. I have been using this shit every single day for two full weeks, and she's not improving. "Well, you can't bring her in. You're in Florida." They have hospitals and doctors in Florida, you twit. They finally decided to call in an antibiotic for her. I don't like medicating her, but damn, she was getting worse. Three days of low-grade fever and five days of meds later and she was still feeling like crap. We didn't do anything while in Florida until Friday. The munchkin was feeling better (the hubs was feeling quite sick at this point), so we went to the Palm Beach Zoo. It was the munchkin's first time, and she seemed to really enjoy herself aside from not feeling 100%. We left on Saturday at around 4:00 and got home Sunday at 9:30am. All in all, we did have a good time. It was very relaxing, and I got to lay out by the pool every single day. It made me miss the south and the heat even more.
The munchkin is FINALLY getting better, I guess. We took her to the dr two Mondays ago, and he said her chest sounded great (I was super worried about bronchitis or pneumonia). Thursday, however, we took a few steps back. She had a low fever all day, and around 7:00, it was up to 103.8. I had just given her Tylenol, so we waited about 20 minutes to see if it started to go down before we went to the ER. The fever definitely started going down, so we went to bed. At 2am, it was back up to 102, so I laid awake feeling her constantly. At 3am, I gave her more Tylenol and fell asleep. When I woke at 6am, she was covered in sweat and was a cool 97.7. Thank God. The hubs stayed home with her that day, and her fever never returned. The nasty runny nose is officially back, though, and she still has a cough.
IS THIS NEVER-ENDING, SWEET JESUS?!?
Florida was fun. The drive down wasn't bad at all. We left that Friday night around 9:00pm and got to Savannah sometime that next morning. We dropped the dogs off at the hubs' uncle's house and went to see his grandmother at the assisted living facility. While we were there, the hubs' aunt called and said the mongrels got out. We flew back to their neighborhood (only about 2 blocks away), and the first mutt we spied was Panda way off in the distance traipsing through someone's yard. A glance down a second street found Trace. We pulled up to his uncle's house still missing three dogs, one of which, Spot, ran off last year. We hopped out of the truck and looked down the street and suddenly saw the three of them walking down the street in pack. The hubs ran down, but they had already turned off into someone's yard. He got down there, and a guy was playing with them waiting on the hubs. Effing dogs, I swear. If there is one piece of advice that I can give you, it's don't have five dogs.
But I love the bastards.
After Savannah, we headed to Florida and arrived just before 6:00 that Saturday evening. We were so effing exhausted that we went to bed at 8:00. The munchkin, at that point, had a cough and the sniffles. It only escalated through the week. Tuesday night she had a low-grade fever and woke up every 15-20 minutes, and by 4:00am she threw up all over me, herself, and the bed. That morning I called the dr, and they gave me the same shit about using a vaporizer. HELLO, MOTHER FUCKERS. I have been using this shit every single day for two full weeks, and she's not improving. "Well, you can't bring her in. You're in Florida." They have hospitals and doctors in Florida, you twit. They finally decided to call in an antibiotic for her. I don't like medicating her, but damn, she was getting worse. Three days of low-grade fever and five days of meds later and she was still feeling like crap. We didn't do anything while in Florida until Friday. The munchkin was feeling better (the hubs was feeling quite sick at this point), so we went to the Palm Beach Zoo. It was the munchkin's first time, and she seemed to really enjoy herself aside from not feeling 100%. We left on Saturday at around 4:00 and got home Sunday at 9:30am. All in all, we did have a good time. It was very relaxing, and I got to lay out by the pool every single day. It made me miss the south and the heat even more.
The munchkin is FINALLY getting better, I guess. We took her to the dr two Mondays ago, and he said her chest sounded great (I was super worried about bronchitis or pneumonia). Thursday, however, we took a few steps back. She had a low fever all day, and around 7:00, it was up to 103.8. I had just given her Tylenol, so we waited about 20 minutes to see if it started to go down before we went to the ER. The fever definitely started going down, so we went to bed. At 2am, it was back up to 102, so I laid awake feeling her constantly. At 3am, I gave her more Tylenol and fell asleep. When I woke at 6am, she was covered in sweat and was a cool 97.7. Thank God. The hubs stayed home with her that day, and her fever never returned. The nasty runny nose is officially back, though, and she still has a cough.
IS THIS NEVER-ENDING, SWEET JESUS?!?
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Public Service Announcement
If you decide to take a shit in the one-room bathroom at work where there are only three other people who use that toilet, please, for God's sake, clean out the mother fucking toilet. That's why there's a toilet brush right next to the pot. No one wants to see track marks when they walk in. The smell is bad enough.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Quick update
Tonight we begin our 17-hour trek to Florida. The forecast...mid-70s to 80s all next week. Thank the sweet Lord. I'll be thinking about all of you while I'm sitting in the hot tub with a drink in hand watching the munchkin frolic in the water. Man, am I ready for this vacay!
The munchkin is fighting the cold still. What is it with kids and colds that they produce more snot than an adult does in an entire year? Thankfully she's used to the nasal aspirator now. She'll even tilt her head back when she sees it coming.
Daycare is getting better. Yesterday she didn't even cry when I left, and they told the hubs that she did VERY well. The only issue is that she just will not nap for very long. The first couple of days she napped for like an hour and 45 minutes. Yesterday it was only 35 minutes. Does anyone recommend anything? The only time she really takes a good nap is when she's curled up with the hubs or me.
And did you hear about boyfriend? I'm gonna have to spank him. :)
I hope to have a post mid-vacay next week, but if I don't, y'all have a good one!
The munchkin is fighting the cold still. What is it with kids and colds that they produce more snot than an adult does in an entire year? Thankfully she's used to the nasal aspirator now. She'll even tilt her head back when she sees it coming.
Daycare is getting better. Yesterday she didn't even cry when I left, and they told the hubs that she did VERY well. The only issue is that she just will not nap for very long. The first couple of days she napped for like an hour and 45 minutes. Yesterday it was only 35 minutes. Does anyone recommend anything? The only time she really takes a good nap is when she's curled up with the hubs or me.
And did you hear about boyfriend? I'm gonna have to spank him. :)
I hope to have a post mid-vacay next week, but if I don't, y'all have a good one!
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Paid my dues and joined the club
Monday afternoon the munchkin and I went to the pharmacy. After shopping, I opened the driver side rear door, tossed my keys into the front seat, and strapped in the kiddo. I shut the door and went to open mine, but it wouldn't open. I tried to re-open the back door to no avail. That's right...I locked my 13-month-old in the car with the keys in my seat.
I reached into my purse for my cell when I realized that it, too, was in the car in the cup holder. I frantically glanced around for a pay phone, and there was one close but not close enough for me to walk away from my trapped child. A lady walked by at that point, and she let me use her phone. I couldn't, however, get the hubs to answer his phone (I later found out he was in Home Depot). The lady suggested I call 911, so I did. I didn't cry until the operator answered the phone. The munchkin soon followed.
As soon as I got off the phone with the operator, I called the hubs again, and he answered. He told me he was by the mall, which isn't far but was TOO far at that very moment. I told the lady she didn't have to stay, but she reminded me that 911 had her phone number, and she also told me she has two grandkids and would want someone to help them. Very sweet. I couldn't thank her enough for staying.
The 911 operator called back to check on us (munchkin was pretty upset by now), and I told her the hubs was on the way and that she could cancel the dispatch. She did but told me to call right back if anything changed. The hubs called back after that to tell me, "DO NOT let the police bust your car window." Ok, whatever. I told sweet lady to go ahead and leave, so she did. About 15 seconds later, a canine unit pulls up (I can only assume he was closest and came even though the call was canceled). Another two minutes later, a second trooper pulls up. Both guys were so sweet and talked to the munchkin through the glass (who was still VERY upset). When they asked me if I was ok, all I could say was, "This kind of shit happens on TV." They reassured me that it happens in reality all the time.
Ten minutes later I hear my doors unlock, glance into the street to see the hubs about to pull into the parking lot, and pulled the munchkin out. She had calmed down some at this point and was doing that sniffle-and-gasp-for-air-borderline-hyperventilating thing.
All-in-all the whole ordeal lasted about 25 minutes, but I swear to sweet Jesus that it felt like an eternity. I can only thank God that it was like 57 degrees outside - pretty much perfect weather for being locked in a car, I say.
I reached into my purse for my cell when I realized that it, too, was in the car in the cup holder. I frantically glanced around for a pay phone, and there was one close but not close enough for me to walk away from my trapped child. A lady walked by at that point, and she let me use her phone. I couldn't, however, get the hubs to answer his phone (I later found out he was in Home Depot). The lady suggested I call 911, so I did. I didn't cry until the operator answered the phone. The munchkin soon followed.
As soon as I got off the phone with the operator, I called the hubs again, and he answered. He told me he was by the mall, which isn't far but was TOO far at that very moment. I told the lady she didn't have to stay, but she reminded me that 911 had her phone number, and she also told me she has two grandkids and would want someone to help them. Very sweet. I couldn't thank her enough for staying.
The 911 operator called back to check on us (munchkin was pretty upset by now), and I told her the hubs was on the way and that she could cancel the dispatch. She did but told me to call right back if anything changed. The hubs called back after that to tell me, "DO NOT let the police bust your car window." Ok, whatever. I told sweet lady to go ahead and leave, so she did. About 15 seconds later, a canine unit pulls up (I can only assume he was closest and came even though the call was canceled). Another two minutes later, a second trooper pulls up. Both guys were so sweet and talked to the munchkin through the glass (who was still VERY upset). When they asked me if I was ok, all I could say was, "This kind of shit happens on TV." They reassured me that it happens in reality all the time.
Ten minutes later I hear my doors unlock, glance into the street to see the hubs about to pull into the parking lot, and pulled the munchkin out. She had calmed down some at this point and was doing that sniffle-and-gasp-for-air-borderline-hyperventilating thing.
All-in-all the whole ordeal lasted about 25 minutes, but I swear to sweet Jesus that it felt like an eternity. I can only thank God that it was like 57 degrees outside - pretty much perfect weather for being locked in a car, I say.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Our First Week of Daycare
I've been blog retarded for a few days but only because I've been balls-to-the-wall busy at work. Pure insanity.
So the munchkin started daycare on Monday. Hardest.day.ever. I was very proud of her though - she didn't shed one tear when I left. I, however, was bawling. I called to check on her later, and they said she refused breakfast twice but ate all her lunch. She took an hour and forty-five minute nap, too. When I called, she was watching Backyardigans (we took two burned dvds up there) and having a good time. When I came to get her, she smiled so big and came waddling to me.
Wednesday wasn't as good. She cried when I started to leave, so I started to get her ready for breakfast. When I was about to put her eggs in the microwave, the teacher said, "We'll do it." I just looked at her, and she said, "Let me tell you something about new moms. The longer you stay, the worse it gets. You should come in, put her stuff away, hug and kiss her goodbye, and leave. It will get better." The whole time she's telling me this my eyes are welling up with tears. I kissed her goodbye and bawled on my way to the car. I called later, and they said she was napping but was doing fine.
Today was better. She still cried when I left, so I waited at another door to the room she was in and watched through the window. She was upset but wasn't hysterical. I felt so bad. I just wanted to scoop her up and hold her until she stopped. When the hubs went to pick her up, they said she did very well today. She went right down for a nap and ate both breakfast and lunch.
My little munchkin is growing up...and without my permission.
So the munchkin started daycare on Monday. Hardest.day.ever. I was very proud of her though - she didn't shed one tear when I left. I, however, was bawling. I called to check on her later, and they said she refused breakfast twice but ate all her lunch. She took an hour and forty-five minute nap, too. When I called, she was watching Backyardigans (we took two burned dvds up there) and having a good time. When I came to get her, she smiled so big and came waddling to me.
Wednesday wasn't as good. She cried when I started to leave, so I started to get her ready for breakfast. When I was about to put her eggs in the microwave, the teacher said, "We'll do it." I just looked at her, and she said, "Let me tell you something about new moms. The longer you stay, the worse it gets. You should come in, put her stuff away, hug and kiss her goodbye, and leave. It will get better." The whole time she's telling me this my eyes are welling up with tears. I kissed her goodbye and bawled on my way to the car. I called later, and they said she was napping but was doing fine.
Today was better. She still cried when I left, so I waited at another door to the room she was in and watched through the window. She was upset but wasn't hysterical. I felt so bad. I just wanted to scoop her up and hold her until she stopped. When the hubs went to pick her up, they said she did very well today. She went right down for a nap and ate both breakfast and lunch.
My little munchkin is growing up...and without my permission.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
For your viewing pleasure
Yes, that is milk.
My loves.
Check out that tongue. Gotta taste everything!
My perfectly beautiful little ham.Friday, January 9, 2009
The Great Debate
Last night's episode of Private Practice was heart-wrenching for me. I am that mother that is pro-vaccine but also scared shitless of what people have said about Autism.
There's no way I wouldn't vaccinate the ham - there is just way to much risk involved in not doing it. I'd have to quit my job because she wouldn't be allowed in daycare, she wouldn't be able to go to school, there would be SO MUCH RISK if we traveled outside the US (what last night's PP episode hit on), and when she decides to have babies, she would need to be vaccinated because of all the risks associated with catching those bugs while pregnant.
And even though I've read articles that say vaccines don't cause Autism, and her pediatrician is a firm believer in that, I'm still scared.
She gets her first MMR vaccination next month. It will be a horribly scary day for me.
There's no way I wouldn't vaccinate the ham - there is just way to much risk involved in not doing it. I'd have to quit my job because she wouldn't be allowed in daycare, she wouldn't be able to go to school, there would be SO MUCH RISK if we traveled outside the US (what last night's PP episode hit on), and when she decides to have babies, she would need to be vaccinated because of all the risks associated with catching those bugs while pregnant.
And even though I've read articles that say vaccines don't cause Autism, and her pediatrician is a firm believer in that, I'm still scared.
She gets her first MMR vaccination next month. It will be a horribly scary day for me.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
The Human Pacifier
Imagine this...you are standing in front of four roofers holding your child and having a conversation. Before you know it, she has her hand inside your shirt and is practically groping you. And everyone can see.
This is like, my every day. The ham loves to play with my boobs. There is no easy way to put it. I know it's a comfort thing, so I'm not freakin' out about it, but DAMN.
It doesn't matter what kind of shirt I'm wearing - t-shirt, tanktop, hoodie, sweater, turtleneck - she will find a way to get her hand inside my shirt and past my bra in record time.
What makes it worse is that it's probably all my effing fault. Yes, she is still nursing but not during the day. I no longer pump, so she's on whole milk. The problem arises at night. Because she sleeps with us and nurses at night, she hasn't learned to self-soothe. She can fall asleep without nursing, but she prefers not to do it that way. I'm like a human frickin' pacifier.
Something has got to be done, but I don't even know where to begin. Put her in the crib at night? Hell to the no! Our bedroom is upstairs; hers is down. Ain't no way she's sleeping downstairs while we're up. Move the crib upstairs? Sure! Now convince the hubs because he's being a pain in the ass about that. I told him, "Well she's gonna be sleeping with us until we transfer again." "Ok."
**Let me just mention that we haven't had sex in our bed since before the ham was born. This living room has seen a lot of action. I sometimes wonder if the neighbors can see our silhouettes in the windows...teeheehee!
Anyway, the boob grabbin' has got to come to a close soon. As much as I enjoy her finding comfort in me, I can't take the men in the office breaking a sweat trying not to watch or saying things like, "Not now, huh?" or "What is she DOING?"
Lovin' on me, damnit!
This is like, my every day. The ham loves to play with my boobs. There is no easy way to put it. I know it's a comfort thing, so I'm not freakin' out about it, but DAMN.
It doesn't matter what kind of shirt I'm wearing - t-shirt, tanktop, hoodie, sweater, turtleneck - she will find a way to get her hand inside my shirt and past my bra in record time.
What makes it worse is that it's probably all my effing fault. Yes, she is still nursing but not during the day. I no longer pump, so she's on whole milk. The problem arises at night. Because she sleeps with us and nurses at night, she hasn't learned to self-soothe. She can fall asleep without nursing, but she prefers not to do it that way. I'm like a human frickin' pacifier.
Something has got to be done, but I don't even know where to begin. Put her in the crib at night? Hell to the no! Our bedroom is upstairs; hers is down. Ain't no way she's sleeping downstairs while we're up. Move the crib upstairs? Sure! Now convince the hubs because he's being a pain in the ass about that. I told him, "Well she's gonna be sleeping with us until we transfer again." "Ok."
**Let me just mention that we haven't had sex in our bed since before the ham was born. This living room has seen a lot of action. I sometimes wonder if the neighbors can see our silhouettes in the windows...teeheehee!
Anyway, the boob grabbin' has got to come to a close soon. As much as I enjoy her finding comfort in me, I can't take the men in the office breaking a sweat trying not to watch or saying things like, "Not now, huh?" or "What is she DOING?"
Lovin' on me, damnit!
Monday, January 5, 2009
House of Flying Body Fluids
I got halfway to work when the hubs called to tell me that Mary threw up big time. She hadn't done it since Saturday night, but she was pretty cranky most of yesterday and didn't each much. She was fine when I left for work, but apparently she wasn't feeling good. Anway, hubs started feeling sick this morning, too, so that means I'm now working from home.
As you can see, the ham has taken over my kitchen utensil junk drawer, so I've had to do a little rearranging. She's so worth the trouble. ;)
So I've decided that I'm sick of "hiding." I'm sick of having to correct names and such on this blog. It's a pain in my big ass, and I'm done, so from now on Mary is no longer Mary, and Dick is no longer Dick. I, therefore, am no longer Jane.
If someone comes across this blog because they decide to Google everyone in mother fucking creation, then so-be-it. I'll do what I can without driving myself mad to still somewhat disguise our names...J, K, and A. Or maybe I won't even do that. I will do my best not to use my own name since it's not common, and those that do have it don't spell it the way I do. Now I'm just thinking out loud.
As you can see, the ham has taken over my kitchen utensil junk drawer, so I've had to do a little rearranging. She's so worth the trouble. ;)
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Blaaaahhhh
I knew something was up with Mary last night when she refused her juice. She didn't each much dinner and was pretty cranky. I took her to bed a little late (around 9:30), but she took a late nap that day, so it worked out.
She slept until around 12:45. I laid down in bed with her, and she calmed right down but didn't immediately go to sleep. She was quiet and didn't want to nurse at all (yes...still nursing...but only at night). We laid there for around 45 minutes when she sat up, turned to me, and barfed all over my arm, shoulder, and side. She continued to puke a few more times all over the sheets. She cried for a minute, but I think she may have just been startled.
We went downstairs and both got in the bathtub, and she was perfectly fine. She played and splashed just like she always does. When it was time to go to bed, it was like our regular routine.
I know random barfing episodes are the norm for kids, but never did I imagine that I wouldn't even flinch when covered in milk-and-veggie-laden puke.
I guess you never really know your own stomach strength.
She slept until around 12:45. I laid down in bed with her, and she calmed right down but didn't immediately go to sleep. She was quiet and didn't want to nurse at all (yes...still nursing...but only at night). We laid there for around 45 minutes when she sat up, turned to me, and barfed all over my arm, shoulder, and side. She continued to puke a few more times all over the sheets. She cried for a minute, but I think she may have just been startled.
We went downstairs and both got in the bathtub, and she was perfectly fine. She played and splashed just like she always does. When it was time to go to bed, it was like our regular routine.
I know random barfing episodes are the norm for kids, but never did I imagine that I wouldn't even flinch when covered in milk-and-veggie-laden puke.
I guess you never really know your own stomach strength.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Adjustment Disorder, Separation Anxiety, or both?
The moment I have dreaded for months now has come. On Sunday morning, the hubs called to inform me that the bastards denied his continuance on the night shift at work. When will he be moving to the day shift, you ask? January mother-fucking 19th. That's right - three weeks until Mary has to start daycare. I would have waited after our Florida trip in February, but my MIL decided not to come up here when the hubs goes to DC next week since his trip has been shortened to one week. Mary will be at work with me for a full week during one of the busiest months of the year - W2 time and year-end close. I couldn't really wait much longer.
The hubs and I went daycare shopping with Mary on Tuesday and, suprisingly, found a daycare that we both loved. I didn't make any appointments and prepared 25 questions that I asked each provider. I was torn between two and actually had to sit down and write out a list of the pros and cons of each. Hubs had one chosen, so the decision was up to me.
Choosing who will provide daily childcare for your most precious possession has to be one of the hardest decisions EVER. After an unbelievable critique, I decided on one. They only had one spot left, so I had to turn in the papers yesterday. I started bawling as soon as I got in my car to go home.
She'll be there three days a week to start, and the other two days she'll be with me unless the hubs has a day off.
I am absolutely dreading the first day. Now I'm not sure who has separation anxiety worse...Mary or me.
The hubs and I went daycare shopping with Mary on Tuesday and, suprisingly, found a daycare that we both loved. I didn't make any appointments and prepared 25 questions that I asked each provider. I was torn between two and actually had to sit down and write out a list of the pros and cons of each. Hubs had one chosen, so the decision was up to me.
Choosing who will provide daily childcare for your most precious possession has to be one of the hardest decisions EVER. After an unbelievable critique, I decided on one. They only had one spot left, so I had to turn in the papers yesterday. I started bawling as soon as I got in my car to go home.
She'll be there three days a week to start, and the other two days she'll be with me unless the hubs has a day off.
I am absolutely dreading the first day. Now I'm not sure who has separation anxiety worse...Mary or me.
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