Stupid Facebook Quiz

You guys have probably all seen the quiz that’s been making the rounds through Facebook recently. A bunch of questions created by someone who obviously has way too much time on his/her hands, intended for a mom to ask her kids (and/or husband). So, because I obviously don’t have anything better to do, like taking care of a baby, doing laundry, cleaning the house, washing dishes . . . or anything else productive, I’m gonna go ahead and just do it.

Wait, what’s that kid chewing on now? Hold on, I’ll be right back . . .

Ok, just an electrical cord. No big deal. He’ll be fine. It will take him a while to gnaw through that plastic coating anyway. Let’s get to the important stuff. Quiz time!

I asked my oldest boys, and then even my husband, these questions. I will say that it was somewhat enlightening. I even tried to get the baby to give me some answers, but couldn’t quite figure out what he meant by, “eeeeeeeeeeee, bababamamamababamama.” If anyone speaks baby, let me know what he had to say.

Alright, let’s get this party started. First up to bat . . . the 7 year old. Here goes. (My reaction/comments on their answers are in italics).

1. What is something I always say? Go clean up the playroom (true).

2. What makes me happy? Coffee (yep).

3. What makes me sad? Don’t know.

4. How do I make you laugh? Tickling.

5. What was I like as a child? Happy and loved unicorns (um . . . sure).

6. How old am I? 40

7. How tall am I? 4 feet (so close).

8. What is my favorite thing to do? Go shopping (not even a little).

9. What do I do when you’re not home? Do laundry (sadly, yes).

10. What am I really good at? Taking care of the baby (awww, sniff).

11. What am I not very good at?  Being up in the morning without coffee (this boy knows me).

12. What do I do for a job? Take care of the baby. You quit your job as a . . . lawyer? (ding ding ding).

13. What is my favorite food? Sushi (not exactly, but ok).

14. What do you enjoy doing with me? Watching movies.

Next up, the 10 year old.

1. What do I always say?  Take the trash out.

2. What makes me happy?  When the baby’s being good and my brother and I are behaving.  And your kids are at school (this question was asked while the boys had been home for the 187th snow day this winter).

3. What makes me sad?  One of us getting hurt?

4. How do I make you laugh?  Telling a joke that’s funny.

5. What was I like as a child? I don’t know, I wasn’t living then!

6. How old am I? 40

7. How tall am I? 5’4″ (even closer!).

8. What is my favorite thing to do?  Probably relax or go on a vacation where you don’t have to do stuff (so much this).

9. What do I do when you’re not home? Your work:  take care of the baby, dishes, laundry, bottles, feeding the baby.  You know, chores.

10. What am I really good at?  Art and work around the house.

11. What am I not very good at?  Keeping your cool (FALSE!!  Um, I mean . . . who me?).

12. What do I do for a job?  Stay home and work around the house (please note his and his brother’s answers to this question . . . before we get to their father’s response below).

13. What is my favorite food? Sushi (again? ok).

14. What do you enjoy doing with me?  Taking walks around the neighborhood.

And finally, the hubs’ answers.  Brace yourselves.

1. What is something I always say?  Can you hold the baby for a minute.

2. What makes me happy?  Baths, sleeping in, reading books, personal time away, sitting in your chair (all correct, and sadly, all things I hardly ever get to do).

3. What makes me sad?   Your old job.

4. How do I make you laugh?  When you sing (mean!).

5. What was I like as a child? Beautiful & carefree (um, sure).

6. How old am I? 41 in a week (2 days now, but yes).

7. How tall am I? 5’6″ (when I told him I’m 5’5 1/2″ he just said he rounded up.  Uh huh, ok).

8. What is my favorite thing to do? Take a bath.

9. What do I do when you’re not home?  Take care of the kids, you know, you do your thing.

10. What am I really good at?  Remembering birthdays, sending cards to people you care about, and reading with the kids (very perceptive and correct!).

11. What am I not very good at? Finances (Ha!  Hello, pot. I’m kettle, nice to meet ya!) and cleaning (well, I just don’t like it, doesn’t mean I’m not good at it).

12. What do I do for a job? Housewife (which led to a 5 minute diatribe from yours truly about how I am not defined by my role as his wife because it’s not the 50’s and he doesn’t own me, etc.).  Ok, fine, whatever PC thing it’s called now. (So much better, thanks).  (Please note that my hubs is really not a misogynist, which is why I found his answer so surprising and kinda funny).

13. What is my favorite food? Pasta (there we go!).

14. What do you enjoy doing with me? Just gazing into your eyes.  (Very funny).  Ok, traveling with you, talking to you . . . when you’re not yelling at me.

So there you go.  A little insight into the minds of my boys.  Discovering what your family thinks of you is always interesting.  I was pleasantly surprised with many of my boys’ answers, and not quite as enthralled with the hubs.  But then again, when you ask a question, I guess you have to be prepared for an answer.  Whether it’s the answer you wanted/expected, or not.

I guess they’ll still get dinner tonight.

 

Humpty Dumpty

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
All the King’s horses and all the King’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again.

I’ve cracked. Just like an egg, my shell is completely shattered and I’m completely scrambled. And I don’t know if anyone can put me back together again.

What has broken me? Well, my kids, of course. What else?

Last week, pre-blizzard, my husband had to go away for a week for a training session for work. He left on a Friday night and did not return until the following Thursday night. My kids were home for 3 full days because of MLK day, and I thought I was going to go a bit crazy.

Pfft, I had no idea what crazy was at that point.

The blizzard hit us Friday afternoon. My kids were supposed to have a half day, returning home early from school, but because of the pending snow storm, they closed schools for the whole day. The snow started 2 hours after they would have gotten home.

We got a ton of snow. Over 2.5 feet in my area. We were completely snowed in the entire weekend. However, the snow stopped late Saturday night and the plows were out early Sunday morning.

I wasn’t surprised when my kids’ school was closed on Monday. There was still a huge amount of snow on the ground and on the roads. Snow plows were still out plowing and salting, but it was going to take a while to beat back the extreme amount of winter weather that had been dumped on us. The kids were happily playing outside in the snow, having snowball fights, sledding, etc. It was all good.

On Monday afternoon, we were told that schools would be closed again on Tuesday. At this point, the roads were pretty clear, but we figured the school system was just being overly cautious. My husband was working from home, so I at least had a bit of help. The kids were outside again, this time building a snowman, and even went over to a neighbor kid’s house to go sledding for a while. Things were fine.

And then they closed the schools on Wednesday as well. At this point, everyone was pretty much ready for the kids to go back to school, including the kids. And we thought that another day off was a bit much.  My boys were tired of the snow and didn’t really want to go outside to play any more. Instead, they opted to stay in and play video games pretty much the entire day. And my husband was away again for a couple of days for work.  This was getting ridiculous.

But the ridiculousness was not to end yet.  Oh no, because schools were closed yet again on Thursday!  The snow had melted at this point down to maybe around six inches, and you could even see grassy patches in some places. The roads were completely clear and safe to drive on. It had been 4 full days since the snow had stopped. We really couldn’t understand why the kids weren’t going to school at this point. And everyone was going stir crazy.

At this point, I had to drag the kids away from the video games, lest their brains begin to atrophy and turn to mush. I demanded reading of books and other non-screen activities. Eventually, I let them watch a movie. And after that, they drifted back to their games. The sheer amount of video games played in my house over the past week cannot be quantified by modern technology.

Can you guess what happened on Friday? Yep, no school. Again. By the time they go back to school on Monday (dear baby jeebus, let them have school on Monday!) they will have been home 13 out of the past 16 days.

I love my kids. I really do. And I love spending time with them. But my current job is taking care of a very active baby and trying to get all the chores done over the course of the day, while chasing him around, saying, “No. No. Stop. Come back here. Don’t touch that. Etc.” I also need to go grocery shopping occasionally, and dragging 3 kids around the store is not a joy, let me tell you. I need my kids to go to school.

I really need my kids to go to school.

Because their mom isn’t just scrambled.  She’s completely fried.

A Day in the Life

Since I’ve recently changed careers, going from a 9-5 career woman to a stay at home mom, things have been quite different in my life.  And since I am the only person who has ever changed from business mom to home with the kids mom, I figured that I’d give you all a little treat and do something really different . . . blog about it.  I know, it’s crazy!  It’s almost like I’m a . . . hmmm, what’s the term I’m looking for . . . I think I’ll call it, mommy blogging!  Sounds completely unique and creative, right?  And really, what could be more exciting for you than to hear all about how I take care of my kids and house all day, every day.  Buckle in, folks.  It’s gonna get bumpy!

Did you know that kids wake you up really early?  I know, what the hell, right? I figured once I quit my job and stayed home with the kids, I’d get to sleep in late, then take a long, luxurious bath while reading a book, getting out just before I became too pruney and right before it was time for my late morning nap.  But noooooo, the kids are all “F that noise!”  They wake me up and expect me to feed them.  Needy little bastards!

So I make a bottle for the baby and real breakfast for the older boys (I tried passing bottles all around, but they weren’t having it). Then the requisite emptying and refilling of the dishwasher (I might do about 18 loads of dishes a day . . . not sure how we dirty that many dishes!), before I can finally get a cup of coffee.  Has anyone heard about moms that never get to finish their coffee and it gets all cold and they reheat it a bunch of times over the course of the day, never getting to drink it?  Yeah, not me.  The one thing that is non-negotiable is that I get to drink that damn cup of coffee so that I can function for the rest of the day.

Once I pack up the boys’ lunches and get them on their bus, I put the baby down for a nap and grab a quick shower.  Then, obviously, I just lounge around all day with my feet up, eating bon bons while the maid serves me chilled beverages and massages my feet.  Or, as my kids believe, I just watch TV all day.  Ok, probably neither of those things.  Depends on the day, but sometimes I run errands once the baby wakes up, rushing to get home before lunch/nap time for him (and trying to keep him awake in the car so that I actually get a nap out of him after lunch).  Or, on the stay at home days, I alternate between doing laundry, cleaning up after my kids, organizing the house . . . and getting to play with the baby in his “baby jail.”

Mickey is our favorite!

After I feed him lunch and put him down for his nap, I finally get to have my lunch, around 2:00.  And yes, I sit my ass in front of the TV at this point and eat my lunch.  Then I get back to cleaning up, etc.  Soon after, the boys arrive home from school and the baby wakes up.  This is my busiest time of the day because I’m juggling the kids’ homework, feeding the baby, making lunches, getting dinner ready and washing out bottles.

Once the kids are all fed their dinner, and if the weather is nice like it was all last week, we might go for a quick walk around the neighborhood before it gets too dark.  On one such walk we saw 13 deer on the hill behind our house (yes, we counted multiple times), were attacked by bats as we walked past one house (twice), and watched the sunset on our way back home.

On days that it’s not warm and temperate, I usually just play with the baby in jail while I yell at my older boys to stop wrestling, which they ignore until someone gets an elbow in the eye and starts crying.  Yep, I have boys.  Good times.

Once I get the baby to bed, finish loading the rest of the dishes and wash the last bottle of the day, I finally sit down to eat my own dinner.  This is the time of day that I finally get to relax.  Unless there’s laundry that still needs to be folded.  Or my oldest son wants to read with me (we’re working our way through Harry Potter.  It has only taken us about 2 years and counting).  Or my middle child wants to show me some Lego creation he has made.  But otherwise, total relaxation!

So, as you can see, my life is perfection right now! Actually, I do not miss my old job at all.  But I do miss certain aspects of working out of the home.  I miss vacation days.  I miss conversations with adults.  I miss lunches out with friends.  I miss time alone in my office where I can check my email, Facebook and blog.  I miss being able to grocery shop by myself before coming home to the kids.

But . . . as much as I miss all of that, I wouldn’t go back if they paid me!  I mean, obviously I was being paid then and now all I make is bupkis.  But I do get paid in cuddles and giggles from the baby and lots of hugs from my older boys.  And really, who wouldn’t want to spend every waking minute with this gorgeous boy?

He’s gorgeous, you’ll just have to trust me on this.

 

Life Support

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

“CLEAR!!!”

BA-BOOM!

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

“CLEAR!!!”

BA-BOOM!

EEEEEEEEEEE . . . . . . . . . . beep . . . . . . . . . beep . . . beep . . . beep . . . beep . . .

“Heartbeat is weak, but steady.”

“Misty’s Laws.  Misty’s Laws, can you hear me?”

…………………………………

“Will she make it, doc?”

“It’s touch and go right now, but there’s a chance.  She just needs to rest and we’ll see how she recovers.  We’ll check on her in a few days and maybe she’ll be able to speak to us again.”

“Is there anything more we can do?”

“Just stay tuned . . . ”

beep . . . beep . . . beep . . . beep . . . beep . . . beep . . .

Catching Up

So . . . yeah. Ok, it’s been an eternity, but I really do have a valid excuse. I pushed an entire human person out of my nether-regions and that tiny human hasn’t let me sleep since. There is very little time for blogging in my world right now, honestly. But I did want to let everyone know that I am indeed still here, albeit entirely consumed by a little hungry tyrant who demands my every waking moment. And most of my sleeping moments as well. For the first 3 months, all he did was scream and eat. Lather, rinse, repeat. And while, obviously, that’s what newborns do so suck it up already, it’s been tiring and draining to say the least.

But I’m guessing you want details, right?  Yes?  No?  Who are you again?  Maybe?  Well, let’s go back.  To a magical time when I was getting 8 hours of sleep a night (except for the 4 times a night I got up to pee).  There I was . . . very pregnant and excited for my 3rd child to be born, and hoping he would grace us with his presence early.

I  had the big belly . . . I had the painted toes . . . I had the nursery all ready.  Now, all we needed was a baby!  He faked us out by pretending to come a week early, but once I got to the hospital, he apparently changed his mind.  Damn you, Braxton Hicks!!  He played with my emotions for about a week, with occasional contractions that made me hopeful, but ultimately ended in disappointment and frustration.  Finally, though, on his due date, he started making moves to enter the world.  For real this time.  So, after being up all night with contractions that continued until the next afternoon, a labor that was quite harrowing as his heartbeat slowed drastically with every contraction, and an epidural that slipped out of my back and had to be re-administered during the worst pain I’ve ever experienced in my life, he finally entered the world.  On December 1st, at 7 pounds, 4 ounces and 21 inches, he was healthy and beautiful.  I mean, just look at him!

And since that moment he has totally filled my world and my heart.  I am with him pretty much every moment of the day and it is wonderful, frustrating, fulfilling and exhausting.  However, once he arrived, I made a pretty drastic decision.  I will no longer be a slave to the corporate world as an attorney, but will instead solely be a slave to my kids as . . . wait for it . . . a stay at home mom!  Since this is my last baby, I just couldn’t hand him over to child care workers and run back to work, like I did with my first two kids.  So, my new full time job is MOM.  We sent the au pair off about 2 weeks ago, and so far it’s been great.  I mean, it’s tough trying to juggle the newborn and also the older kids’ school schedules, but that’s only temporary.  It will get a bit more manageable when the baby is older and not eating every 2-3 hours.  But so far, I think I’m doing fabulous at my new job.  I mean, I even clean the baby occasionally!

And I think I even worked out what was making him scream so much.  At first I thought it was colic.  Then the doctor said it was just reflux.  But I started to suspect it had something to do with an aversion to dairy.  Then again, he would also be miserable it I ate anything that was a gassy food (i.e. almost all fruits and veggies).  So, basically I’ve cut out all dairy from my diet and avoid almost every fruit, veggie, oily fish, nut and pasta.  But other than that, I can eat anything I want!  Yeah, that pretty much leaves me with meats and breads (as long as they don’t have milk in them).  And you wouldn’t believe how many things have dairy in them!  Pretty much everything, dammit.  So, it’s been frustrating to completely change my diet, but worth it for him not to wake up screaming in pain every night.  Oh, and did I mention that I also haven’t had a drink in over a year?  I am having the most fun!  Parenthood is such a joy.

And we probably don’t need to talk about the fact that I turned 40 three weeks ago as well, now do we?

Thanks, hubs!

So, now you know where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing these past few months.  And honestly, I can’t promise that this means a return to blogging regularly (or even sporadically) from now on, but I’ll at least try to check in occasionally.  If my little tyrant allows it.  Here’s hoping.

Making Room for #3

I was worried.  So was the hubs.  We had the best possible plans and intentions, but had no idea how it would be perceived.  Still, this was our best option, so we had to go with it, consequences be damned.

We have a four bedroom home.  Right now, all four of those bedrooms are occupied by myself/hubs, my oldest son, my youngest son and the au pair.  So, the question was . . . where does the new baby go?  We could have easily put him in a bassinet in our room, but that would only be a temporary solution and I have always been of the mind set to start them out early in the crib so they get used to it quickly.

Once upon a time, my youngest son’s room was a nursery.  In fact, it’s pretty much the only room in the house that I actually spent time designing and decorating, as he arrived soon after we moved into the house.  It has green/brown/tan painted stripes under a white chair rail with tan paint above and an adorable jungle theme.  The only thing that has changed over the past six years of my son’s life is the bed.  So, we decided . . . his room would once again become the nursery, and we would move him in with his brother.  In order to make this a reality, we needed to get bunk beds for the boys.

They have wanted bunk beds for a while now, ever since we flirted with the idea of getting them a couple of years ago but never pulled the trigger.  So, we were hoping that the excitement of finally getting those much coveted beds would trump the disappointment of them both losing their bedroom autonomy.  We were already creating a middle child by having this baby, but now we were taking away my youngest’s sanctuary and making him bunk with his older brother.  Like I said, we were worried as to how they would react.

Despite our trepidation, I found a perfect bed online and ordered it for delivery in early October.  Being the cowards that we are, we wanted to wait as long as possible before we had to tell the boys that they were going to be sharing a room, and have the beds delivered then.  But finally, we could wait no more, and we had to pull the trigger.

When we broke the news, we were surprised at how excited they were.  They couldn’t have been happier.  And while we were cautiously optimistic about their reaction, we still wanted to see how they would react once the reality of the situation presented itself.  After sharing the news, we took action . . . removing my oldest’s existing bed and moving around some of the furniture in preparation for the upcoming delivery of the new beds.  Then we waited . . .

Oldest son’s original room . . .

Room without bed.

The bunk beds arrived two days later and were set up and ready to go by the time my kids got home from school.  When I returned from work, I found my boys upstairs, hanging out on their new beds.  And loving them!  They were so excited, it was like Christmas day.  My oldest got the top bunk, which he thought was super cool.  My youngest got the bottom, Full sized bed with a brand new mattress, and he said it was super comfy and soft.  In fact, they loved their new bunks so much, that they without being told, took Clorox wipes to the dusty parts of it (the stairs, inside the cabinets, the top of the ceiling fan that was head height to the top bunk) and cleaned their brand new beds.  Phew!  Sigh of relief.

New bed.

My little animals enjoying their new bunks.

Since then, we have managed to somehow get all of my youngest’s clothing into the room, and with the addition of a new bookcase, have been able to organize their books and other items.  So far, they seem to be enjoying the new set up, and I even found them sleeping together on the bottom bed a couple of nights . . . giggling and talking as if they actually like each other!  So, I’m tentatively calling Project Combined Room Bunk Beds a success!

Now, I just need to get the baby’s room organized.  Anyone want to volunteer to help me locate all of the boxes full of baby clothes in my basement storage room?  I’m sure after six years, they will be super easy to find.  Oh, and then there’s the massive amounts of washing to be done once those clothes are found.  Seriously, people . . . I may actually need a village, so get your asses over here!

 

50 Things About ME!

Ok, so usually I don’t do these kinds of things.  And truthfully, I wasn’t even tagged to do it or anything.  But let’s be honest here for a minute, mkay?  I’m totally without blogging content as of late.  I don’t know if it’s that I’m blocked creatively or just don’t have anything going on to write about.  Whatever it is, I figured I should do something so you all know I haven’t dropped off the face of the earth, so when I saw my friend Andrea post her own 50 questions/answers, I thought I might go ahead and give it a whirl.

So, here goes.  50 things about me that you may or may not give a damn about.  And . . . GO!

1. What are you wearing? Currently a button down maternity top and super comfy huge black pants.

2. Ever been in love?  Of course.

3. Ever have a terrible break-up?  Yes.

4. How tall are you?  5’5.5″

5. How much do you weigh?  Well, I am 7 months pregnant, so I think I’m weighing in somewhere between an NFL Linebacker and a Humvee.

6. Any tattoos? No, never pulled the trigger on that.  I still may someday.

7. Any piercings?  My ears are double pierced, although one hole has closed.  In my youth, my belly button was pierced, but that closed up after my first pregnancy when I had to remove the belly ring.

8. OTP (One true pair, favorite fictional couple?)  Oh man, this is tough.  Lorelei and Luke from Gilmore Girls or Wesley & Buttercup from The Princess Bride.  (I would have gone literary, but most of my favorite books don’t really have “couples.”)

9. Favorite show?  Wow, and I thought the previous one was tough.  I watch so much TV and love so many shows.  Of all time, I’d probably say Friends.  Currently though, The Amazing Race & The Good Wife.

10. Favorite bands?  Pearl Jam.  Fall Out Boy.  Foo Fighters.  Red Hot Chili Peppers.

11. Something you miss?  My mother in law and father in law.  So much.

12. Favorite song?  My husband asked me this question once, many years ago, and I still haven’t answered him!  It all depends on what genre we are talking about and what my mood is at the moment.  For simplicity’s sake, and to answer the question, I’ll go with Release by Pearl Jam.

13. How old are you? Right now, I feel about 104.

14. Zodiac sign?  Pisces.

15. Quality to look for in a partner?  Someone with the tolerance to put up with my insanity.  And a sense of humor.

16. Favorite Quote?  “Outside of a dog, a book is a man’s best friend; and inside a dog, it’s too dark to read.”  Groucho Marx
 
17. Favorite Actor?  Johnny Depp or Robert Downey, Jr.
 
18. Favorite Color? Purple
 
19. Loud music or soft? Depends on my mood.  After a rough day and if I have a headache: soft.  If I feel like rocking out: loud.

20. Where do you go when you are sad?  Somewhere quiet and private so nobody can see me cry.
 
21.  How long does it take you to shower? 10-15 minutes.

22.  How long does it take you to get ready in the morning? Depends on whether I’m going to court or someplace where I care about my hair.  If I have to style it, it adds another 20 minutes.  If I’m just throwing my hair in a hat, from shower to out the door is about a half hour.

23. Ever been in a physical fight?  No.

24. Turn on?  Humor and intelligence.

25. Turn-off?  Hypocrites.

26. The reason I started blogging?  I needed a hobby and had started reading some other blogs and thought, “I can do this, too.”

27. Fears?  Something horrible happening to my kids and/or any of my family and friends.

28. Last thing that made you cry?  Damn Dancing with the Stars and talk about a last dance with a dying father.

29. Last time you said you loved someone?  This morning to my kids.

30. Meaning behind the name of your blog (Misty’s Laws)?    Not one of my more creative titles.  My name is Misty and I’m a lawyer.

31. Last book you read?  You Before Me by Jo Jo Moyes

32. Book you are currently reading?  High Five by Janet Evanovich (don’t judge . . . I needed something light and fun after reading about assisted suicide).

33. Last show you watched?  The aforementioned Dancing with the Stars.

34. Last person you talked to?  My secretary.

35. The relationship between you and the person you just texted?  Last person I texted was my hubs last night.  So . . . spouse.

36. Favorite food?  Pasta or sushi.

37. Place you want to visit?  So many . . . Australia, Germany, Switzerland, Singapore, Boston, Toronto.

38. Last place you were?  Right now I’m sitting at my desk at work. Prior to that, I was heating up some water for tea.  My life is uber exciting right now.

39.  Do you have a crush?  Um, no.
 
40. Last time you kissed someone?  Kissed my kids goodbye this morning.  Kissed my hubs last night.
 
41. Last time you were insulted?  By my husband this weekend.  He was being overly snarky and it got to me.  I’m sure it has nothing to do with pregnancy hormones or anything.

42. Favorite flavor of sweet?  Caramel.

43. What instruments do you play?  I used to play the clarinet in high school, but badly.  Played the piano in elementary school, also badly.  Instrument playing is apparently not my thing.

44. Favorite piece of jewelry? I don’t wear much jewelry, so I guess my wedding/engagement rings.

45. Last sport you played?  Sport?  What’s that?

46. Last song you sang? Hmmm, can’t remember.  I tend not to subject people to that form of torture.

47. Favorite chat up line?  Hey ho.  How’s tricks?

48. Have you ever used it?  Occasionally.

49.  Last time you hung out with anyone?  I went to lunch with some blogger friends last weekend.  I guess that would be considered “hanging out.”

50. Who should answer these questions next?  Anyone who feels the desire to share.

August Was Rough

Hey there.  Long time no see blog.  I know you’re probably not speaking to me now, because you think I just abandoned you without even a sayonara, but at least let me explain.  No, don’t look at me like that, I have a good reason, I promise!  Just give me one more chance.  Please?

So, the last you heard from me was early July.  I really have no explanation for the rest of that month, except to say that I was sad, and it’s hard to write witty, snarky posts when consumed by the sadness.  By the time I started to emerge from the funk, it was the annual family vacation time, which we all so desperately needed.  So, August started out pretty good, with a full week and a half of vacationing down the beach with my  husband’s crazy and wonderful family.  It was relaxing and fun and everything a vacation at the beach should be.  I laid in the sun and got tan, took my kids on rides and played games and mini-golfed, and even had a date night with my hubs at the local casino where I won some cash.  All and all it was the perfect getaway.

And then we returned, and I was punished for that enjoyment with extreme prejudice.  I got sick.  At first,  I thought it was just a bad cold, so I took a day off of work and went to my OB (because I’m there all the damn time and knew they wouldn’t charge me a $50 co-pay just to get a note for work).  I told them I had a cold and needed a note, they checked the baby’s heartbeat (although the baby was just fine thanks), gave me my  note, and I was on my way.  Although, the next day I felt even worse!  I decided just to take another day off to rest and try to recuperate, and deal with the whole “note” thing later.  But then Friday came.  And I felt the same.  I took another day (which is insane for me) and decided that it was finally time to go to an actual doctor.

Diagnosis?  Sinus infection.  Well, crap.  And since I’m allergic to penicillin and also pregnant, I was limited in the meds I could take.  So, I was given Erythromycin and sent on my way.  Cut to Monday where I still feel like hell and don’t make it into work again.  This was getting out of control.  I had no choice but to suck it up for Tuesday, since I was due in court, but by Tuesday afternoon, when I still felt like death, I returned to the doc to see what was up.

Apparently, I still had the infection as the meds had not worked.  On to antibiotic #2:  the Z-pac.  Once again, I dragged myself into work the next day for court, but by Thursday, I was done and took another day.  This was getting ridiculous, but I just couldn’t really function.  I once again womaned up for Friday and got to work, but knew I was in for another visit to the doc that afternoon when I felt exactly the same.  I happened to see the same doc from my first visit, and he informed me that my ears and throat looked just as infected as they had a week ago.  So, he prescribed the last possible antibiotic he could, which was Bactrum (#3), but also told me that if that one didn’t work, I’d have to go to an ENT to have my sinuses drained.  Oh, and that involved the breaking of my nasal bone to get up there and do that.  So that was good news!

Cut to Monday and I still feel the same and take another day off.  And also call the ENT, reluctantly, to make an appointment.  First available is for the following Friday.  Great.

The next 2 days are court days, so I’m at work, despite feeling the same.  Thursday I take off again.  Although, it was fortuitous that I was off, because I got a call early that morning from the ENT about a cancellation for that afternoon at 3:00.  Could I come in?  Damn straight I could.

Luckily, the doc was nice and didn’t break anything.  But, he also told me that it appeared that I no longer had the infection.  When I told him I still felt like crap, he poked around in all of my head orifices and said that it could be residual stuff in there or maybe even allergies.  He stuck some stuff up my nose and ended up sucking out a bunch of extreme snottiness.  Yum.  When I asked him about the nose breaking, he seemed surprised that the other doctor told me that, and explained that he doesn’t normally do that as a practice, unless it’s in very extreme circumstance.  Instead, he gave me some Nasonex, and sent me on my way.

Happy ending, right?  Oh how I wish it was that simple.  Cut to two days later and I’m sitting at my son’s baseball game feeling very uncomfortable and itchy.  I start seeing all of these little red dots appearing all over me and am feeling quite miserable (in addition to the current sinus misery I was still feeling, for whatever reason).  By the end of the day, I was a giant ball of red itchiness, so I passed on dinner with the team and ran home, stopping only to buy some oatmeal bath and gold bond menthol lotion.  Those were the only things that soothed my body when I had my last rash . . . 9 years ago when I was pregnant with my first child and contracted a rare pregnancy rash called PUPPS.  Miserable.  Hoping it wasn’t that, since I had 3 months to go before the baby came and the rash would subside, I went home and took my oatmeal bath and slathered myself with cooling lotion.  And . . . nothing.  I still felt the same, and actually it was getting worse by the minute.

By late that night, it had traveled to my face and I was completely covered with red bumpy itchies from head to toe.  Even my hair itched.  Not to mention other places that . . . well, I’m not going to mention.  At this point, I figured it wasn’t PUPPS, but a reaction to one of the meds I was taking.  This was the same reaction I got from Penicillin 20 years ago.  Currently, I was on Bactrum and Nasonex, and had had some Afrin/Lydocain sprayed up my nose 2 days prior by the ENT.  It could have been a reaction to any of these.  I just wish I knew which one.

Every attempt at sleep that night proved fruitless.  My entire body felt like it was on fire.  No matter how many oatmeal baths or lotion slatherings I administered, I felt exactly the same.  After my 3rd bath and lotioning at 3:00 am, I decided that sleep was not an option for me that night, so I grabbed my book and headed downstairs to read and then watch TV until the sun came up.  At 7:00, my youngest son woke up to see me downstairs, and was very confused.  I came up to greet him, and he looked at me with his head tilted and a bit of apprehension on his face.  “Mom, you look . . . different.”  I told him I was sick and he asked if I had the chicken pox.  I told him I just had a rash.  (Later, he would tell my husband that I looked “creepy.”  He wasn’t wrong).

After trying again to sleep and finding it to be impossible still, I took another bath and decided that I was again going to have to go to the doctor.  So, dressed in my finest pajamas, unwashed hair pulled back in a bun, glasses and no make up on, I ventured out into the world to scare more children.  After an hour of waiting to be seen, the doctor asked what was wrong, and I told her I was having an allergic reaction.  She said she would give me steroids, and I told her I was pregnant.  So, apparently, Benadryl was the only thing I could take.  Luckily, she had some there, so she gave me my pills and finally let me go home.  Worth noting is that she never even examined me.  Maybe I was just too “creepy” to touch?

I spent the rest of the day in bed and misery.  I could hear the entire extended family splashing around and whooping it up outside at my pool.  Did I mention that this was Labor Day weekend?  Yeah.  I had left strict instructions that nobody was to come in the house.  I was much too frightening to be seen.

Later that evening, I actually started to feel a bit of relief.  Whether it was the meds that were working, or complete and utter exhaustion, I at least was finally able to sleep that night.  A couple days later, the rash was cleared up and I felt better.  Still with the crappy sinus issues (since I’d stopped taking the Nasonex in case that was the culprit of the rash), but no longer on fire from head to toe.  That might be the best I can hope for at this point.

So, that’s my long, ridiculous story of this past month.  Of the 20 days possible for me to be at work in August, I managed to make it in a mere 7 times.  Creativity and writing were pretty much out of the question during that entire time as well.  So, that’s my excuse.  Are we good?  All square and such?  It really wasn’t entirely my fault.  You’ll have to blame my plague.

(Below are some pics of the rash.  These are not for the faint of heart, so if you’d prefer not to look, run away now while your eyes are still in tact.  You’ve been warned . . .)

 

Arm

Neck

Close up of big, itchy, pregnant belly.

Time to Say Goodbye

When I saw my husband’s face on my phone, I knew immediately why he was calling.  And my heart sank.  I steeled myself to answer and hear the news, then I heard my husband’s voice, informing me of what we had known was pending and inevitable.  Knowing it’s coming doesn’t make it any easier.

He was diagnosed almost a year earlier, and he went through many rounds of treatment before he eventually became disoriented and confused.  After a brief visit to the hospital and a relocation to my brother-in-law’s house to have more constant monitoring, the decision was made to stop the rounds of treatment.  They weren’t helping anyway.  At that point, everyone just hoped for the best.

He had his good days and bad.  On the good days, he would sleep through the night, walk around the house trailing his oxygen hose, interact with visitors, watch the Orioles’ games.  On the bad days, he would think the ceiling fan was leaking water onto his bed and start talking about people who died years earlier as if he had just seen them yesterday.  For a while, there were many more good days than bad.  Until last week.

My husband took the boys to go visit him before leaving for a weekend long baseball tournament over an hour away from home.  We would be staying the entire weekend, so this would be the last time they would see him until the next week.  He was having a very bad day.  Confused, delusional, scared.  It was the worst he had been in a while, and it was quite the sudden turn.  We got word on Saturday morning that an ambulance took him to a hospice home very early that morning.  We contemplated returning home, but were told it wasn’t a matter of hours, but rather days.  We hoped we’d have time to see him again.  We stayed for the tournament.

Late Sunday night we returned home, and while I took the kids home for dinner, baths and bedtime, my hubs went over to the hospice to visit.  The weekend was long and tiring, so I was in bed by the time he returned home, but the text from him that I saw the next morning reported how sad it was to see him like that.  He had been unconscious for the past 3 days.

Despite the fact that there was laundry and grocery shopping to be done, neglected while we were out of town the past weekend, I decided to forego all necessary yet mundane chores the next day after work.  There are priorities in life, and this was one of them.

When I arrived at the hospice center, my first impression was that it looked like a southwestern style spa oasis, not a building housing very ill people a few miles from Baltimore City.  It was a beautiful and richly appointed place, and the people inside seemed genuinely caring and sympathetic.  When I entered his room, I saw him sleeping on the bed.  A shadow of his former self and not much bigger than an anorexic teenager.  There was a TV facing his bed showing scenes of gently flowing streams and playing calming music.  It was very peaceful.  I did find the balcony off of his room, that overlooked a wooded area, to be a bit unnecessary in this setting, but it was a very lovely room.

I was glad to be alone with him.  It’s too much pressure when there are others there.  By ourselves I could just talk to him and hold his hand.  I talked about my oldest son’s tournament the previous weekend and how his team won the whole thing.  I told him that I was just starting to feel the baby move and I was so hoping he could have met his 13th grandchild, even though I knew he would see his birth and life from wherever his next destination might be.  I told him we would give the baby his name for his middle name, despite not having discussed this with my husband prior.  I told him that I was sure that he would soon be with his wife who passed a few years prior and that I knew it would be a happy reunion for them both.  I talked about when the boys were little and he and his wife used to watch them when I got home from work, allowing me to get dinner ready, and how the boys used to love visiting each day.  I told him how much we were all going to miss him, but how we understood if it was time for him to go.  I told him that 81 years was a lengthy time to be on this earth, and that he had fought for long enough.

I talked and talked, but have no idea if he heard a word.  It didn’t matter.   All of those words were just me saying goodbye.  When I heard that he passed the next morning, I was so thankful that I had that opportunity to see him that one last time.

He was a wonderful father to my husband, a surrogate dad to me, and a loving and doting Pop to my children.  He lived in our home for the past 15 years, and his absence will create a great void in our lives and hearts.  We will miss him terribly.  But are thankful we had the chance to know him.  The world is missing one more great man today, and so are we.

Guest Posting over at the Happiness Project

Since my good friend and fellow blogger, Jess, is currently on an envy-inducing and dream trip to Greece, she has asked a few blogger friends to guest post for her while she is gone.  This trip is actually her pre-honeymoon, as she is due to be married in July, but the soon to be wedded couple won’t have time to take a trip after the wedding, so they decided, “hell, let’s just go before!  Why not?”  I think it’s a brilliant idea, frankly.

Since she is pending her nuptials, I thought this might be a good time to finally tell the story of my wedding day, and all the joys and pitfalls that occurred on this most special of blessed occasions.  Despite the many months of hellish planning, and my increasing devolution into a wedding planning monster, it turned out just fine on the actual day.  Until the end.  The end was not just fine.  But, you’ll just have to read all about it to find out what happened.

Visit Jess at the Happiness Project to read my guest post and hear all about the day that I became a Mrs.