I'll be there in a sec honey...

This blog has moved.

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 20 Sep 2006 18:22:00 +0000

I've moved my blog over to Wordpress. The new address is:

http://mamat.wordpress.com

I hope y'all can make it over there!

Weekend mess in pictures

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 19 Sep 2006 21:32:00 +0000

Well I was going to post pictures of the mess from this past weekend, however Blogger won't let me. :( I've tried twice now and it just thinks and thinks and thinks and then I get the silly "timed out" message from their server.

What IS that smell?

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 18 Sep 2006 17:15:00 +0000

Remember this post about the stinky smell in the basement? Dead mouse? Dead frog? Nah, we weren't quite that lucky. Try our septic tank was overflowing from under the lid into our yard and we didn't discover it until Saturday afternoon. You know how many septic tank fixers work on a Saturday afternoon??!! Zip. Zero. Zilch. So while I was ranting and raving that SOMEBODY had to be able to return a call on the weekend, hubby just stared at me like the crazy I-want-action-NOW whacko that I can be. (This is why he put me in charge of the sub-contractors when we built the house. I could call them and get action out of them.)

I have pictures to document the fixin' of the problem, but I forgot them and without them, the rest of the story just wouldn't be the same. So I'll let you imagine what could have happened until tomorrow. All that I will say is that for once, I was glad The Home Depot was open late on a Saturday night. Oh and that we are able to flush the toilets and shower again.

Welcome to the Tweener Years

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 14 Sep 2006 20:32:00 +0000

It's with firm conviction that I declare G. to be Tweener. Too old to be a little girl and too young to be a pre-teen. The attitude, the self-conscience demeaner about looks, the unsure self-esteem of a pre-teen are all slowly surfacing, but yet the little girl obsessions over Barbie, Littlest Pet Shop and Polly Pockets are still there. It's a fine line to walk with her for her daddy. One minute she's happy so snuggle up and watch Shrek 2 and the next minute he's "totally embarrassing" her. In a moment they can go from joking around and teasing to tears and foot stomping or from I love you Daddy to you don't understand me Daddy.

It'll be interesting to see how this Tweener grows into a Pre-teen and beyond. Being in two households is hard enough for a kid, but being a hormone filled, gangly girl will surely be a challenge both for her and her parents. I have a feeling she'll clash with her Mom more than her Dad, mostly because she is SO much like her Dad, and there's so much history to show how "well" Mom and Dad get along. Albeit much better lately, but I think you catch my drift.

I imagine that the next year or two will be very telling. Will it be a battle all the time or will it only be an occasional battle? Will she become more withdrawn into her awkward tweener stage of life, or blossom into a socialite who shares every thing? Right now, she has declared that she doesn't care if she has a lot of friends. Will that change? If not, I can just imagine how much more boring we'll become to hang out with.

House boat in waiting

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 13 Sep 2006 18:57:00 +0000

Oh look, it's raining again. What a surprise! I wouldn't have expected it to rain for the 6th day in a row. (insert eye rolling smilie here)

Last night, or really early this morning at 4 a.m., it rained so hard I thought for sure the house was going to start floating away. This morning, it was no surprise when we woke up to see Lake G. and Lake G. Squared in the front and back of the house. Yes, we have a drainage problem. And yes, we are working on it. Obviously unsuccessfully working on it. But, if it doesn't stop raining, then we can't get out there and fix it because it's too muddy and wet to work with the tractor. Such a vicious cycle. We need the month of July back. Lots and lots of dry, dry, dry, hot days. But this is mid-September in Michigan, so the chances of that kind of weather are slim to none.

In other house news, I headed down into the basement yesterday morning and before I could reach the bottom two stairs I noticed a pungent dead mouse like smell coming from beyond the door. I followed my nose to the corner where the smell was the strongest and discovered it was coming from our sump pump crock. Convinced that a mouse or frog had fallen in and died, I grabbed a flash light to take a look. But no floating mouse or frog revealed itself. So what did I do next? Called hubby of course. Then when he couldn't figure it out, but was convinced that our septic field was leaking into our drainage field, I did the next logical thing. Call our plumber.

The plumber said, "Maybe a mouse or frog got in there and died. Put some bleach in there and see if it helps." So we did and this morning, the dead mouse smell is gone. But that might be because Lake G., which is in the back of the house, is draining into our drainage field at breakneck spead, so the water is being pumped out of the sump crock about every 5 minutes. If there was anything dead in there, it got jetted out somewhere in the middle of the night. So while the rain helped to solve one problem, it created another.

On the good news side of things, since hubby can't work outside this weekend, I can finally get him to help me move some things around on the inside. Or maybe, just maybe, we can *gasp* go out somewhere. It's a long shot, I know, but one can hope, one can hope. ;)

(Disclaimer: I inserted the winky because most of the time I'm just as lame as he is and opt for staying in rather than going out.)

Oh Ungrateful Me

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 11 Sep 2006 18:37:00 +0000

Me: Um, I don't know how to say this diplomatically, so I'm just going to say it. I don't want anymore of your Mom's hand-me-downs.

Hubby: Oh. Like what?

Me: Like she brought another lamp.

Hubby: It goes with the desk that she gave us.

Me: We have a lamp for that desk. And her style is not my style.

Hubby: I told her I wanted all her stuff. Like her couches.

Me: Her couches?!?!?! No way in hell am I taking those couches.

Hubby: Why? We could recover them.

Me: They are ugly and uncomfortable. We have no place for them.

Me: At the old house, I had to live with the ghost of your ex-wife. This is our house. I'm not living with your mom's furniture like I had to be reminded of your ex. all the time at the old house.

Hubby: Oh. It's just that a lot of it is my favorite stuff from my childhood.

Me: That's fine. I don't want it. I don't decorate in that style. We already have 2 desks, an armoire, a nightstand, a "game" table and lamps. One of those desks I didn't want in the first place.

So yes, hubby thinks he's doing us a great service by getting us "free" furniture, when all I see is yet another time in my life where somebody else gets to decorate my (our) space with their hand-me-downs. Frankly, I'd much rather NOT have anything and save the money to get what I really wanted in the first place. I am so past hand-me-downs.

Don't get me wrong, it's nice, solid, quality furniture, but it doesn't go with my Pottery Barn wannabe style. And the problem is, the stuff we do have, I didn't have much of say about either. He just showed up from a visit with a cargo van stuffed full of her furniture. So I guess I see this as the best opportunity to speak up about the rest of the stuff.

*************************************************************************************

I'm not ignoring the fact that today is the 5th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, but it also happens to be my step-daughters birthday. So I'd much rather think about this as her day and the day my husband became a father for the first time, than think about the horrible day that it was 5 years ago.

Ranting Part Deux

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 08 Sep 2006 18:35:00 +0000

I'll let my email to the company speak for itself:

Dear Sirs,
On July 7th, I purchased a pair of Chaco sandals at in , MI. Since then, I have worn them maybe 2 or 3 times a week. Today, as I left a meeting and got ready to walk the 15 minutes back to my office, I notice that my right sandal was fitting odd. I looked down and discovered that the plastic buckle on that sandal had broken. So, I walked back to my office and am now emailing you to find out what you can do for me and my barely two month old sandals. I've attached photos that I took with my picture phone. If you need better pictures, I'll be more than happy to take some with my digital camera and send them to you, along with proof of purchase.

As a side note, up until this point, I have always purchased Nike sandals and they have lasted my a good 3 or 4 years before I had to replace them because I wore them out. On the recommendation of several friends, I decided to give Chaco sandals a try. I hope I don't have to go back to Nike, because I've been very happy with my Chaco product up until now.

Thank you,

Edit: The response from the fine Chaco folks (note sarcasm)

We warranty all manufacturing defects. We warranty any component that has worn out more quickly than the rest of the sandals due to a flaw in the material. We would be more then happy to warranty evaluate the buckles. Your photo's show the broken buckle, but we do need to physically see them, since we haven't had a problem with defective buckles lately.

Please use our web site at www.chacousa.com <> and fill out the repair form, which has all the information you need. This entitles you to a $5.00 discount for using our web site, if there is a cost to you.

In any case, we will contact you with your options.

Ok, so basically they have a warranty, but I have to ship my sandal to them to prove that it is broken and if they deem that it is some freakish busted buckle episode, they'll fix it for free. Otherwise, I'll get to pony-up for shipping and a repair. (minus the $5 discount) Oh and I'm supposed to clean them in the wash machine before I ship them, because if they end up in Colorado dirty, they aren't touching them. But what if they break in the wash machine?? Hmmm???

Excuse me for expecting more from my 2 month old $75 sandals.

Restroom rant

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 08 Sep 2006 18:26:00 +0000

I have a bone to pick. Well actually, two bones.

One, how hard is it to flush the freakin' toilet?!?! I went into the restroom at work today and like so many times before, somebody before me didn't flush the toilet. Ick. My nine year old forgets to flush the toilet (often), I expect more out of adults.

Two, how the hell do you get the seat wet in a women's bathroom?! Ok, if you are squatting, I can see a stray spray happening, but then wipe it up. And before you tell me that I should squat, there's no way my legs are strong enough to squat for anything other than a #1. And I didn't have to do a #1, so I sat. And my thighs got wet. Ick.

Every time this happens, I immediately want to go home and shower. But I can't, so I get to live with a cold, wet and sticky icky feeling between my leg and my pants.

So please flush and if you squat and spray, wipe the seat. Because when I only have 5 minutes between meetings to take care of business, I don't always inspect the seat first for stray spray.

Fun at Millennium Park

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 07 Sep 2006 18:26:00 +0000

We had planned on going to the Museum of Science and Industry last Friday, but after a late start (surprise, surprise), a long train ride into the city (oops, no express trains at Noon) and the discovery that an equally long bus ride would have put us at the museum around 3:30 p.m., only to have it close in a couple hours, we settled on just hanging out in Millennium Park.

G. and her cousin had fun in the The Crown Fountain, until the little guy slipped and fell, getting soaked and bopping his head. But he survived, albeit a bit on the chilly side since we had no extra clothes with us because we were supposed to be at the museum.

Sofia got her chance to run around like the crazy nut that she is when we stopped for a snack at Jay Pritzker Pavilion/Great Lawn. Ever since learning to run, she only knows one speed these days: fast. It's a good thing her sis, cousin and daddy were up to the task of keeping up with her.

And last but not least, they have this really awesome thing called the Cloud Gate. I'll let the pictures explain:

As usual, I had forgotten one of my 5 Chicago city maps (because I forget every time and purchase another one), so I made my annual purchase and it helped us find the free trolleys that the city offers within The Loop. We hopped on the Red Square trolley and within 20 minutes we were on the Metra Train (X-press this time) back to the suburbs.

The only down side to the weekend was that once again, I had to fight with Sofia for every nap and every bedtime. Including on the train into downtown and on the way back. I'm sure the commuters enjoyed that. And I've yet to mention that she has started hitting when she gets tired or frustrated. So on the train ride back, I had to put her into the "Mommy Straight Jacket" to avoid getting beat up and screamed at.
This is so unlike my daughter and I'm not sure how to deal with it.

Head full of junk

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 06 Sep 2006 20:36:00 +0000

Too..much..going..on...

Make..it..stop..now...

Hope..to..post..soon..

1:00 a.m.

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 31 Aug 2006 17:59:00 +0000

Question: Why is it that my body always seems to start functioning in not-so-convenient ways at 1:00 a.m. in the morning when I'm trying to get one very awake 13 months old back to sleep?

First, as I was leaning over the crib rail patting her on the bottom, my nose started to run, so I had to quick grab a cloth diaper to wipe it. Then after the whole bottom patting didn't work, I tried rocking her. Well by then, my bladder kicked in and with every glider rocking motion forward, it screamed at me, "EMPTY ME SOON OR ELSE YOU WON'T LIKE WHAT WILL HAPPEN!". So, just when I thought I had her back to sleep, I slipped her back into her crib and made a b-line for the bathroom, only to have a now screaming child waiting for me when I got back.

Next, we moved down the hall to the spare bedroom, so as to not wake up hubby. I forgot that I didn't put the sheets back on, but said screw it and laid down with her on the mattress pad and pulled up the comforter. Within a couple of minutes, my nose started burning and the sneezing commenced. Lovely. Which then made my nose run again. Joy. It's no wonder I couldn't get her back to sleep. Once the nose settle down, then my stomach started grumbling like that of a bear who just came out a long winter hibernation. Breath in, quiet, breath out, GRUMBLE. Breath in, quiet, breath out, GRUMBLE. And so on.

Finally when all of that settled down and Sofia dozed off with my arms holding her tight, I fell asleep. But not for long because I woke myself up sucking air like I had just run a five miles for the first time in years because in some weird twisted dream, I was running around with Sofia in my arms yelling at everyone to help me because she was growing scales by the minute.

After checking her to make sure she indeed did not suddenly grow scales, I carried her back down the hallway and went in her room to put her back in her crib and discovered that I had not put the crib rail down when I fetched her in her screaming state earlier. Apparently my brain issues started well before dreams of a reptile daughter. What did I do? I did my very best to put her in without dropping her too much as I stood on my tippy toes. She went right back to sleep.

At 3:40 a.m., I crawled back into bed. And I slept. Soundly. Until the alarm went off at 6:00 a.m.

(Note: We are leaving tonight after work for Chicago, so I won't be blogging until we get back. Unless I hijack my MIL's computer. Have a great holiday weekend.)

(Chi)cken in a (Ca)r and the Car can't (Go)...

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 30 Aug 2006 18:52:00 +0000

...That's how you spell???? Come on now, I know you can figure it out..... Chicago!!!

Mom used to sing that all the time and still does, I think, whenever I tell her we are going to Chicago to visit hubby's Mom and the rest of his family residing there.

So yes, we are off to Chicago tomorrow night for the holiday weekend. The plan is to prepack the (ca)r as much as possible tonight after Sofia goes to bed (I need some good luck with that lately) and tomorrow after work, we swoop up Sofia from daycare, come home, throw the dog in the car (not literally), throw ourselves in the car (mini-SUV really), drive up to G.R. to throw G. in the car and then make the 5 hour trek to Grandmommies house. (depending on the lovely Chicago area construction) We are hoping that by leaving late on Thursday, we'll avoid the usually horrendous holiday weekend traffic AND catch a break in the construction areas. To which I say, Murphy will most likely have other plans for us, but we'll see.

We do have one glaring "issue" on our hands. With all the necessary baby-type stuff to bring and still leave Zoe (the dog) with enough room, it only makes it possible for us to bring our umbrella stroller. I have an issue with this because if we are going to be (and we will be) A. at the zoo B. in downtown Chicago or C. walking around "Last Fling" in Naperville, then I have a hard time making Sofia nap sitting up. And she needs to nap. Trust me, she does. Nor do I know if she'll nap sitting up. So, do I end up carrying her around in my arms sleeping for an hour like we did on Mackinac Island?? How fun THAT would be to do again! Or do we bring our kiddie backpack carrier and let her sleep in that while one of us must have her attached to us at all times? Don't..know..what..to..do. Hubby says she'll be fine. Hubby is usually making sure G. is happy, so it really isn't his issue, for the most part.

Vacation is supposed to be fun, right? I'm worrying over nothing, right? Don't get me wrong, I like going places and you know, actually doing things. But it's the battles that I have with Sofia to nap, find her someplace to nap and get her to go to bed in a strange place that make me want to stay home. Other than that, I don't mind vacation at all.

Living up to the pressure

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 29 Aug 2006 19:09:00 +0000

On my way into work this afternoon, I was listening to NPR (as I often do) and caught the last few minutes of the Diane Rehm Show. The guest on show was Alissa Quart discussing her book, "Hothouse Kids", which is about her experiences as a gifted child and research she did on parents and how they raise gifted kids. (and regular, but thought to be gifted kids) I caught the part of the discussion on how parents feel tremendous pressure to make sure they buy the Baby Einstein DVD's or CD's, sign their 2 year old up for math tutoring, teach them sign language and get them on that preschool waiting list even before they know how to walk. And she was not just talking about gifted kids.

I too feel that kind of pressure. I haven't given into it that much, mostly because I just don't have the time (and money) to spend on hours of Baby Einstein DVD's. And frankly, Sofia's attention span for most things, especially television, is about 5 minutes. If that. Oh and yeah, I know, kids under 2 aren't supposed to watch ANY television. Yep. Well, a few glimpes of Elmo or the Teletubbies on the weekend isn't going to rot her brain. Though, we do have a rule for G. that if Sofia is playing with her toys (in the living room), she can only tune the TV to the local PBS station or Sprout. So we do have some standards.

The pressure isn't limited to teaching kids these days either. I feel like the worst mom on earth if I suddenly don't have the budget to buy everything organic. Like all the ills that my daughter will have in the future will be caused by my not shopping at Foods For Living and putting us into even more debt. I try to cover all the food groups each day, doesn't that count for something any more? I have to try to cover the food groups AND make sure nary a pesticide has touched our food?

When we were in our Bradley Birthing class, the instructor did her very best to scare the shit out of us about everything in this world that I had been used to and how it would deform my baby if I continued to eat/do/use it. After I had Sofia most of my granola pursuits went out the window, except for breastfeeding. But now as she is getting older and I keep reading more and more about other moms doing this and that, I'm feeling really guilty for not following suit. Even though a lot of it isn't financially possible. So I will weigh the options and will probably buy organic something here and there, but mostly I'll keep doing what I'm doing and hope that it's the right thing to do.

Lost

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 28 Aug 2006 18:11:00 +0000

Lost: A friendship that I thought would last forever.

We were best of friends in college and you stood up for my first wedding. We lost touch once before, but when we reconnected right before you moved out west, it was like finding my lost sister. You helped me through my divorce, we climbed a mountain together, spent many night on the phone sharing our lives and then it just started to fade. I'm still not sure what happened. I got married, you didn't say congrats, my dad died, you didn't say I'm sorry, I gave birth to a daughter, you didn't return my call and then I heard you were moving again, and still no word that you are even alive. Your mom says you are busy as always, and I suppose that is some comfort in my feeling blown off state of mind. But I'm having hard time accepting that you just don't care. People come and go, but I never thought it would happen with us.

So as you move across the pond to somewhere outside of London, I wish you farewell, both for your move and our friendship. I hope that someday, we can be like sisters again and share a pint of Guinness on the patio of life.

It's been a long time since you've been here

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 25 Aug 2006 13:14:00 +0000

Hello eight consecutive hours of sleep! I haven't seen you around in a long time and this morning when I woke up, looked at the alarm clock and realized that it was 6:15 a.m. and you had payed me a visit last night, I was giddy happy. Of course, I secretly wished that you could have been replaced by nine or ten consecutive hours of sleep. But I realize that you could be gone as quickly as you arrived, so I refuse to take you for granted and hope that you'll extend your stay for at least one more night.

Love Thursday

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 24 Aug 2006 19:44:00 +0000

In keep with the Love Thursday theme that Chris passed along from chookooloonks, here is a picture of love:

Two brothers and a sister. Only the sister isn't here anymore, so it's pictures like this one that they have to rely on to remember her laughs, her smiles, her evil sneaky tricks, her thoughtfulness and her love for her 2 boys and husband.

Egg shells and stepin'

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 23 Aug 2006 18:57:00 +0000

If have to admit, that I've been a little "short" with my step-daughter lately, but I don't think any more so than if she was my own. I believe it's just a sign that summer needs to end soon and thankfully, it will (for our portion) tomorrow afternoon when hubby drops G. off with her mom at the end of the day. Then she's back in school after Labor Day and we are back to weekends where we don't have to hear incessant whining about how bored she is, how we never do anything (we do)or really, whining about everything associated with her dad and I. Hubby feels the same way too and expressed it last night with a comment something like this: "Tonight was just one of those nights where I just wanted to.....arrrghhhh!!!" This was just after we spent the evening hearing about how hungry she was (if I don't eat something soon I'll die), we get to Grandma and Grandpa's, she sees that the salmon isn't cooked the one way she'll eat it and runs off pouting. Then the cucumbers weren't any good. Then the tomatoes tasted like the cucumbers. Then she couldn't eat the beans because they had something on them. Etc, etc, etc... Oh and how come nobody consulted her when we (and the Grandparents) bought new smoker grills this spring, because she hates it and everything we cook on it. At that point, I left and took some food home because it was close to Sofia's bedtime and it showed.

So what does this have to do with egg shells and stepin'? Well I'll tell you. I have to watch my step when I make comments on moments like one described above. I'm not her mother, but I'm also not a doormat to get walked over. However, making comments on my hubbies parenting style with his daughter gets me in trouble more often then not. So, I have to tread lightly, as if on egg shells, because being a step-parent in NOT like being a parent. And when I made a comment when they came home last night and he made her a plate of food after refusing what was offered at the grandparents, I got a smartass comment back about yes, I'm a softy and do you want to divorce me too. So, me and my big mouth need to just shut up and pick and choose our battles.

Good news confusion.

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 21 Aug 2006 17:09:00 +0000

Ring, ring...

Me: Hello.

Nurse: Mrs. G? Hi, we've got Sofia's ultrasound results back and everything looks fine.

Me: Fine?

Nurse: Yes, fine.

Me: So, what do we do next? The Ped's G.I. appointment isn't for 2 months.

Nurse: Hold on, let me ask the doc.

Me: (waiting, waiting, waiting)

Nurse: Doc says give her some chocolate or strawberry milk to see if it changes the color of her poop.

Me: Uhhhhh....k??????? Chocolate milk........?

Nurse: Let us know what happens.

Me: And if it doesn't???? Can we try eliminating food on our own? Keeping a food journal?

Nurse: Sure.

Me: Sure?

Nurse: Sure.

Me: I'm paying your guys for what now? (No I didn't really say that, but I thought it really loud.)

Nurse: If she starts vomitting or gets worse, let us know. Have a good day!

Me: Mmmm....ok. Bye. (????!!!!)

Fun Fun Fun

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 21 Aug 2006 13:06:00 +0000

17 tickets for a Sunday afternoon Detroit Tigers game, hot dogs, nachos and drinks : $200+

2 Detroit Tigers hats and 1 pink mini-bat: $56

4 large pizzas, salad and drinks after the game: $160

After the game, getting to walk on the field and watch the kids run around the bases (while trying to convince the guards to let the adults do it too): priceless

Buy me some peanuts and cracker jacks....

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 21 Aug 2006 12:58:00 +0000

A picture of fun!

This message was sent using PIX-FLIX Messaging service from Verizon Wireless!

Let's go Tigers!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 20 Aug 2006 19:51:00 +0000

Go tigers

Our trip to the Diagnostic Center

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 17 Aug 2006 18:24:00 +0000

Well, that sucked. Flat out sucked. Hubby holding down her arms and me holding down her legs so the ultrasound tech could scan her tiny little organs sucked. Period. She cried her eyes out and wanted to get up so bad, which meant we had to pin her down a little harder. (but still be gentle)

I dropped her back off at our daycare provider and cried because I couldn't take the rest of the afternoon off and make it up to her.

Now we wait. Until Monday, at the earliest, for the results. I don't want to wait. I want to know now that my baby girl is ok.

Hump day declaration

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 16 Aug 2006 18:59:00 +0000

Late last week, I was flipping around on our HD channels and came across the show Dead Like Me on HD Net. I was immediately hooked and even got hubby hooked by the end of the second episode. I should also mention that, bless his anti-scary movie self, he was also pondering life and death and the fairness of it all by the time the credits ran. To which I said, "Honey, it was just a TV show." I don't think it helped.

Sunday rolls around and my mom calls with bad news, a good family friend has been sent home for hospice. Upsetting, but expected. Monday my mom calls with more bad news, Uncle in New Jersey passed away on Sunday. Again, upsetting, but expected since his severe stroke. Monday night, talk to my brother, thinks he might be getting a pink slip on Friday from work. Well shit, for all he's done for them..... Tuesday, other brother calls to confirm his and mom's plans to fly out to NJ and oh, by the way, Aunt So-and-So is in the hospital, chest pains = masses in her lungs. Cripes almighty!!! Today is Wednesday and everyone at work is in a pissy mood. I closed my door to avoid listening to small "discussion" in the hallway. There are still two more days in the (work) week.

So, I am officially declaring this "Bad Karma Week". If we can have "Play Tiddlywinks Week", "National Toenail Fungus Awareness Week" and "Genital Integrity Awareness Week" (no that is NOT a typo), then "Bad Karma Week" can be declared. This way, all the bad karma happens in one week and we have 51 weeks to enjoy good karma.

There will be no watching of Dead Like Me this week. I don't want to be blamed for "Bad Karma Week" being changed to "Bad Karma Week, Part 2, The Sequel". Sequels usually suck.

Only slightly freaked out

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 15 Aug 2006 17:01:00 +0000

Only slightly freaked out = me after the doctor appointment yesterday AND Sofia's reaction to having blood drawn. Honestly, she did much better than I did as I squished her little legs between my legs and held her right arm under my right arm while one technician held her left arm and the other took out the blood. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I think she complained more about being held still than having a needle stuck in her arm.

So the good news is that we got the blood tests back and all her levels were normal. However, we are still taking her for an ultrasound on her liver on Thursday, "just to be sure" as the doctor told me. Great. If that is normal, then we will be referred to a pediatric gastroenterologist (sp?), which will take 2 - 3 months to get an appointment. So yeah, I was right to be concerned about her poop, the bloodwork and liver test are to rule out the nasty stuff first. "Of course", says the doctor, "she could just end up having weird poop." Weird poop...technical term, right?

The ultrasound should be interesting on Thursday as we try to hold our almost 13 month old ants-in-her-pants kid still on an exam table for 15 minutes or more. Conjure up all the images that might come out of that experience and you know if nothing else, it'll be interesting. Interesting indeed.

Paranoia

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 14 Aug 2006 18:36:00 +0000

I had all these great things to blog about and then I started reading my AAP (American Academy of Pediatrics) and Harvard Medical School books trying to figure out why Sofia's #2 (or B.M. or poop...however you want to say it) has been really tan/light colored, bulky and really stinky the past couple weeks. Oh and why she has a rash on her scalp that the poor thing has scratched to bleeding.

After about an hour of reading (on the poop, not the rash), I'm about to drag her out of daycare and into the pediatrician. I'm really trying not to freak out, but those books scared the bejebus out of me.

Hopefully, she'll tell me a nut and to go home and stop reading. (And researching on the internet.)