I've been thinking for a while that my family needs a new baby. My boys are getting big, and we are experiencing a major lack of cute, squishy babies. Problem is, I don't want a baby, don't have room for a baby, and couldn't afford a baby even if I did want one. Luckily, my sister did want a baby, has room for a baby, and can even afford one! So......... MY SISTER IS HAVING A BABY!!!!! I am so ridiculously excited. I'm going to be an aunt, and we're finally going to get another sweet, precious, adorable baby around these parts!! Yahooo!!!!
And let me tell you, this is one lucky baby- it's getting a kick-ass set of parents. Elizabeth has spent her whole life doing everything I do, only better. And motherhood is going to be no exception. She is going to be amazing. She is already one of the best teachers I have ever known- she's a thousand times better at it than I ever was. She is so dedicated and so committed to those kids. And she didn't even give birth to any of them, so imagine how great she's going to be with the one that she did! And Michael, my brother-in-law, is going to be a great dad. He'll make sure that this kid is fluent in sarcasm and dry wit by its first birthday. Hell, it will probably learn to roll its eyes before it learns to roll over!
We are so excited for them, and we're so anxious to meet this wonderful little person (currently being referred to as "Tater") that's joining our family. And now I can pass on the maternity clothes, and sit back and watch them leap onto the roller coaster ride that is parenthood. And in those early, sleepless, exhausting days, I will give my sister advice and reassurance, and then I will laugh my butt off as I head off to bed for a full night's sleep!
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
Coming Around Again
Lately I've been feeling a sense of deja vu around my house, and it's all because of the twins. They're almost three, and while they're very different than Mason was when he was three, there are a couple of things that are exactly the same. Two in particular- movies and books.
When Mason was three, he was completely obsessed with the movie Cars. He watched it countless times and we had every single car from the movie. I stepped on them constantly and cursed them mightily, but he loved them, so we kept on buying them. He lost interest in cars when he was about 4 1/2 and it was like watching an old friend go. We packed up the multitude of cars with a sigh of nostalgia and let him get on with the business of turning into a big kid. But then, a few weeks ago, Hays discovered Cars and the obsession was resurrected.
He LOVES it. He wants to watch it every day, preferably multiple times a day. And don't get me started on Mater and the Ghost Light. When we busted out the bag of cars we had stashed in a closet, it was like Christmas all over again. Even Mason has a renewed interest in his old favorite. And Hays plays with those cars non-stop. First thing every morning I hear "I want Mater, Sally and Nice and Clean (Lightening McQueen- is that funny, or what?) So once again, little metal cars are scattered all over my house and I'm stepping on them constantly. In fact, I'm currently sporting an angry, purple bruise on the bottom of my foot from Mater- the most unforgiving of the bunch.
And it's not just Cars that has reemerged as a household favorite. Mason's favorite book at three was a book about a garbage truck called I Stink. If you have a three year old boy in your life, I highly recommend it. I've yet to meet one that didn't love it. And Will and Hays are no exception. We read it so many times a day that the boys recite it along with me. And I read it to Mason so many times that I knew most of it by heart even before the twins started with daily requests for "I Tink."
And I have to tell you, I really don't mind the deja vu (Angry, purple bruise not withstanding). It always makes me a little sad when they outgrow something they loved, so it's kind of nice to see old friends come around again. Especially since we spent a small fortune on those dang cars!!
When Mason was three, he was completely obsessed with the movie Cars. He watched it countless times and we had every single car from the movie. I stepped on them constantly and cursed them mightily, but he loved them, so we kept on buying them. He lost interest in cars when he was about 4 1/2 and it was like watching an old friend go. We packed up the multitude of cars with a sigh of nostalgia and let him get on with the business of turning into a big kid. But then, a few weeks ago, Hays discovered Cars and the obsession was resurrected.
He LOVES it. He wants to watch it every day, preferably multiple times a day. And don't get me started on Mater and the Ghost Light. When we busted out the bag of cars we had stashed in a closet, it was like Christmas all over again. Even Mason has a renewed interest in his old favorite. And Hays plays with those cars non-stop. First thing every morning I hear "I want Mater, Sally and Nice and Clean (Lightening McQueen- is that funny, or what?) So once again, little metal cars are scattered all over my house and I'm stepping on them constantly. In fact, I'm currently sporting an angry, purple bruise on the bottom of my foot from Mater- the most unforgiving of the bunch.
And it's not just Cars that has reemerged as a household favorite. Mason's favorite book at three was a book about a garbage truck called I Stink. If you have a three year old boy in your life, I highly recommend it. I've yet to meet one that didn't love it. And Will and Hays are no exception. We read it so many times a day that the boys recite it along with me. And I read it to Mason so many times that I knew most of it by heart even before the twins started with daily requests for "I Tink."
And I have to tell you, I really don't mind the deja vu (Angry, purple bruise not withstanding). It always makes me a little sad when they outgrow something they loved, so it's kind of nice to see old friends come around again. Especially since we spent a small fortune on those dang cars!!
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Pits of Hell
Good evening, ladies and gentleman. I'm reporting live from the pits of hell. Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration. I'm home with a grilled cheese and an enormous glass of wine. Matt's covering the night shift in the pits of hell. Will's in the hospital. Again.
He had a runny nose last Thursday, and the tell-tale cough started Friday morning. I had him in the pediatrician's office by Friday afternoon, and got the usual antibiotics/steroid prescription. But it didn't work. He got sicker over the weekend and kept running a high fever. We were back at the doctor's office Monday, and he busted out the big guns- three days of Rocephin shots. But they didn't work either. I was supposed to take him on Wednesday for his last shot and a follow-up with the doctor. After examining him, our pediatrician agreed that he wasn't getting better and sent us for a chest x-ray.
By "us" I mean me, Will and Hays. Matt and all the local grandparents were tied up, so I had to wrangle two toddlers through the hospital by myself and attempt to control them in the waiting room of the x-ray unit. That didn't go so well. The good news is that no matter how many people are waiting ahead of you, if you come in with two loud, rowdy toddlers that are attempting to dismantle the waiting area, they'll bump you right on up to the front of the line. The bad news is, Will had pneumonia.
So our doctor put him in the hospital early Wednesday afternoon. Thank God for our vast support network of grandparents that stepped in to help with the other two. Because of them, we've been able to keep things running relatively smoothly. We finally realized that it makes no sense for Matt and I to sit up in that little hospital room together. All that happens when we do is that I get bitchy and cranky and take it all out (unfairly) on Matt. But when I'm there by myself, I have to put on my big-girl panties and be the mom and act like a grown-up. So I've been taking the day shift and he's been spending the night. It pretty much sucks all the way around.
Today was especially sucky. Will's been pretty agreeable and easy going. (He's been too sick to be anything else) He's been super-polite to his nurses- thanking them for everything and just being cute in general. And that was what did me in this afternoon.
They put in an IV for his antibiotics yesterday. It took them two tries, but they finally got it in. However, by this afternoon it had clotted and was useless, so they had to try to put in a new one. The nurse tried once, and the vein blew. Second try, same results. The whole time, I'm holding him, talking to him while he's strapped down on a table, screaming. I can handle the screaming. What reduced me to a bawling mass of snot and tears was when he cried, "All done. Thank you. All done. Want to go home. Thank you, Mommy."
We gave it one last shot after he'd had a chance to calm down (and a popsicle), but it was no go. His veins just wouldn't cooperate. So after enduring three IV attempts, he had to get ANOTHER shot of Rocephin. And he gets one more tomorrow. That makes a grand total of NINE needle sticks in five days.
But it's finally working. He's getting better. He sounds better, not great, but better. And his fever is gone. As long as it stays gone tonight, he'll get one more shot tomorrow morning and then they'll send him home. We're sooooooo ready to be done with the hospital. It's so boring, and time just drags interminably. Not to mention trying to keep Will somewhat entertained when he feels good enough to play. So keep all your fingers and toes crossed that he stays fever-free tonight and we're all home tomorrow, and we don't see the inside of the hospital again this year. I mean, we love St. Mary's, and we love those nurses, but I would be 100% okay with never setting foot in there again.
He had a runny nose last Thursday, and the tell-tale cough started Friday morning. I had him in the pediatrician's office by Friday afternoon, and got the usual antibiotics/steroid prescription. But it didn't work. He got sicker over the weekend and kept running a high fever. We were back at the doctor's office Monday, and he busted out the big guns- three days of Rocephin shots. But they didn't work either. I was supposed to take him on Wednesday for his last shot and a follow-up with the doctor. After examining him, our pediatrician agreed that he wasn't getting better and sent us for a chest x-ray.
By "us" I mean me, Will and Hays. Matt and all the local grandparents were tied up, so I had to wrangle two toddlers through the hospital by myself and attempt to control them in the waiting room of the x-ray unit. That didn't go so well. The good news is that no matter how many people are waiting ahead of you, if you come in with two loud, rowdy toddlers that are attempting to dismantle the waiting area, they'll bump you right on up to the front of the line. The bad news is, Will had pneumonia.
So our doctor put him in the hospital early Wednesday afternoon. Thank God for our vast support network of grandparents that stepped in to help with the other two. Because of them, we've been able to keep things running relatively smoothly. We finally realized that it makes no sense for Matt and I to sit up in that little hospital room together. All that happens when we do is that I get bitchy and cranky and take it all out (unfairly) on Matt. But when I'm there by myself, I have to put on my big-girl panties and be the mom and act like a grown-up. So I've been taking the day shift and he's been spending the night. It pretty much sucks all the way around.
Today was especially sucky. Will's been pretty agreeable and easy going. (He's been too sick to be anything else) He's been super-polite to his nurses- thanking them for everything and just being cute in general. And that was what did me in this afternoon.
They put in an IV for his antibiotics yesterday. It took them two tries, but they finally got it in. However, by this afternoon it had clotted and was useless, so they had to try to put in a new one. The nurse tried once, and the vein blew. Second try, same results. The whole time, I'm holding him, talking to him while he's strapped down on a table, screaming. I can handle the screaming. What reduced me to a bawling mass of snot and tears was when he cried, "All done. Thank you. All done. Want to go home. Thank you, Mommy."
We gave it one last shot after he'd had a chance to calm down (and a popsicle), but it was no go. His veins just wouldn't cooperate. So after enduring three IV attempts, he had to get ANOTHER shot of Rocephin. And he gets one more tomorrow. That makes a grand total of NINE needle sticks in five days.
But it's finally working. He's getting better. He sounds better, not great, but better. And his fever is gone. As long as it stays gone tonight, he'll get one more shot tomorrow morning and then they'll send him home. We're sooooooo ready to be done with the hospital. It's so boring, and time just drags interminably. Not to mention trying to keep Will somewhat entertained when he feels good enough to play. So keep all your fingers and toes crossed that he stays fever-free tonight and we're all home tomorrow, and we don't see the inside of the hospital again this year. I mean, we love St. Mary's, and we love those nurses, but I would be 100% okay with never setting foot in there again.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Snowmageddon '11
We are snowbound, iced in, totally stuck. It is, quite literally, Snowmageddon. I have seen a fair amount of snow and ice in Georgia in my lifetime, but nothing in my 32 years like this. We knew it was coming, but nothing could have prepared us for how long it would stay. We are coming up on day FIVE of being stuck at home. That is absurd and unheard of. So here's how it all went down...
The Snowpocalypse was supposed to start Sunday night. The news was calling for all kinds of mass power outages. Having been through that two years ago, I was in no hurry to suffer through a cold, dark house with three bored kids again in this lifetime. So we decided to relocate to Matt's mom's house. Her neighborhood has buried power lines, and if that didn't keep the lights on, she had a fireplace so we could at least stay (sort of) warm. But since we had no idea how long we'd be there or how cold we might get, packing everything we might need was a guessing game at best. That meant I had to pack up anything we might possibly need for any conceivable situation. By the time I was done, it took us not one, not two, but THREE trips to get everything and everybody (including the pets) over to Pat's house.
And let me tell you a bit about Pat's house. It's beautiful. It has lovely, expensive things. It looks like something straight out of a Pottery Barn catalogue. Or at least, it did until my brood descended upon it. Then it looked like a catalogue shoot gone horribly, horribly wrong. There were toys and junk strewn from one end of that house to the other. And here's the kicker- the power stayed on. It stayed on at her house, my house, everywhere. So all that packing and worrying was for absolutely nothing.
Well, maybe not nothing. It was, at least, a change of scenery. The kids got to play with different toys, and it was kind of a novelty for them. I called it our "snowcation." But after three days, the novelty had worn off and everyone was ready to get home. Luckily, the inches of ice on the road had thawed enough that we could slowly, but safely drive home. Well, Matt could. No way in hell was I driving my babies home on that ice rink.
So we made it home yesterday, and that was nice for about five seconds. Then the mantel of cabin fever that had been building up since Sunday settled over us once again. Because while we could get home, the roads were in no shape to be driving unless you had to. So we were still stuck inside. And I was slowly going bat-shit crazy. Truly, it's starting to resemble The Shining around here. I keep expecting to see Scatman Crothers show up at any moment. The kids are bored and whiny and demanding, and Hays is sick as a dog!
That little guy started running a fever Tuesday, and we were finally able to get him to the doctor this morning. (But my daddy had to drive us because the roads were still too icy for my liking) He has a double ear infection- his third this month. So after a nasty, painful Rocephin shot and a prescription for Zithromax, they're referring us to an ENT to get tubes in his ears and his adenoids removed. Yay, the fun is never-ending!!
And now school's been canceled again tomorrow. And Monday is a holiday. And if I don't get out of this house soon (by myself), somebody better hide all the axes.
The Snowpocalypse was supposed to start Sunday night. The news was calling for all kinds of mass power outages. Having been through that two years ago, I was in no hurry to suffer through a cold, dark house with three bored kids again in this lifetime. So we decided to relocate to Matt's mom's house. Her neighborhood has buried power lines, and if that didn't keep the lights on, she had a fireplace so we could at least stay (sort of) warm. But since we had no idea how long we'd be there or how cold we might get, packing everything we might need was a guessing game at best. That meant I had to pack up anything we might possibly need for any conceivable situation. By the time I was done, it took us not one, not two, but THREE trips to get everything and everybody (including the pets) over to Pat's house.
And let me tell you a bit about Pat's house. It's beautiful. It has lovely, expensive things. It looks like something straight out of a Pottery Barn catalogue. Or at least, it did until my brood descended upon it. Then it looked like a catalogue shoot gone horribly, horribly wrong. There were toys and junk strewn from one end of that house to the other. And here's the kicker- the power stayed on. It stayed on at her house, my house, everywhere. So all that packing and worrying was for absolutely nothing.
Well, maybe not nothing. It was, at least, a change of scenery. The kids got to play with different toys, and it was kind of a novelty for them. I called it our "snowcation." But after three days, the novelty had worn off and everyone was ready to get home. Luckily, the inches of ice on the road had thawed enough that we could slowly, but safely drive home. Well, Matt could. No way in hell was I driving my babies home on that ice rink.
So we made it home yesterday, and that was nice for about five seconds. Then the mantel of cabin fever that had been building up since Sunday settled over us once again. Because while we could get home, the roads were in no shape to be driving unless you had to. So we were still stuck inside. And I was slowly going bat-shit crazy. Truly, it's starting to resemble The Shining around here. I keep expecting to see Scatman Crothers show up at any moment. The kids are bored and whiny and demanding, and Hays is sick as a dog!
That little guy started running a fever Tuesday, and we were finally able to get him to the doctor this morning. (But my daddy had to drive us because the roads were still too icy for my liking) He has a double ear infection- his third this month. So after a nasty, painful Rocephin shot and a prescription for Zithromax, they're referring us to an ENT to get tubes in his ears and his adenoids removed. Yay, the fun is never-ending!!
And now school's been canceled again tomorrow. And Monday is a holiday. And if I don't get out of this house soon (by myself), somebody better hide all the axes.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Things Are Coming Along....
So I told y'all I got an elliptical and it was killing me. That was a week ago, so here's my update. It's still killing me. BUT, I've stuck with it, increased my time, and- drumroll please- lost four pounds!!!! That's right, one week in, and I'm a fifth of the way to my goal. (At least, I think it's a fifth, I'm really bad at math.)
It's not just the elliptical, I'm also doing all that other crap like watching what I'm eating, portion control, cutting back on the vino. And it's working- at least according to the scale. And the weirdest part is that I look forward to exercising each day. Not because it's fun. Hell no, it's not fun. I feel like I'm dying. My legs feel like they might fall off and I'm sweating like a whore in church. Actually, probably more, LOTS more. But then, I'm done, and I've burned a bunch of calories and done something really good for myself, and it makes me feel freakishly good.
Even minus the four pounds, I'm still way more of a fatass than I'd like to be. I mean, I'm not circus fat or anything, but back in the day I was really little and cute. Now I'm more short and squat, kind of like a fireplug. But even though I still look in the mirror and sigh, it's a hopeful sigh. Because while I'm not there yet, I'm on the road. I'm getting there, and that feels much better than looking in the mirror, sighing, and eating ice cream! It's also motivating me to work on other things, like turning the twins into humans.
Let's face it, if you read this blog, you know they're pretty much wild animals. Part of it is just who they are, but part of it is me being lazy. Imagine if you had two chimpanzees loose in your house all day. You'd try to train them and housebreak them, right? But keep in mind that the whole time you're trying to train them, they're mashing bananas into their fur, throwing poop at you, and swinging from your chandelier, all while pointing and grinning their big chimp grins at you. It would get exhausting, right? And you would want to park their monkey butts in front of the TV just to get a moment's peace, right? Well, yeah, me too. But at some point, you've got to get those monkeys trained before they grow bigger than you and rip your arms off and beat you to death with them.
So that's what I'm trying to do with my chimps, I mean, twins. Less TV, more attention to manners, being persistent when it comes to making them listen and follow directions, more consistent with enforcing rules and consequences. It's exhausting. But I've been pleasantly surprised at their response. The better I am, the better they are. I took them to the library for story time yesterday, and it wasn't even awful! I'm going to socialize those cute little primates if it kills me!!!
I know we're only a week in, but I'm telling you folks, I'm going to own 2011. (Maybe? I hope??) But I've publicly stated it, so now I have to stick with it or face the shame and humiliation of failing in front of my entire internet community. Here's to hot, skinny mamas and well behaved kids!!!!
It's not just the elliptical, I'm also doing all that other crap like watching what I'm eating, portion control, cutting back on the vino. And it's working- at least according to the scale. And the weirdest part is that I look forward to exercising each day. Not because it's fun. Hell no, it's not fun. I feel like I'm dying. My legs feel like they might fall off and I'm sweating like a whore in church. Actually, probably more, LOTS more. But then, I'm done, and I've burned a bunch of calories and done something really good for myself, and it makes me feel freakishly good.
Even minus the four pounds, I'm still way more of a fatass than I'd like to be. I mean, I'm not circus fat or anything, but back in the day I was really little and cute. Now I'm more short and squat, kind of like a fireplug. But even though I still look in the mirror and sigh, it's a hopeful sigh. Because while I'm not there yet, I'm on the road. I'm getting there, and that feels much better than looking in the mirror, sighing, and eating ice cream! It's also motivating me to work on other things, like turning the twins into humans.
Let's face it, if you read this blog, you know they're pretty much wild animals. Part of it is just who they are, but part of it is me being lazy. Imagine if you had two chimpanzees loose in your house all day. You'd try to train them and housebreak them, right? But keep in mind that the whole time you're trying to train them, they're mashing bananas into their fur, throwing poop at you, and swinging from your chandelier, all while pointing and grinning their big chimp grins at you. It would get exhausting, right? And you would want to park their monkey butts in front of the TV just to get a moment's peace, right? Well, yeah, me too. But at some point, you've got to get those monkeys trained before they grow bigger than you and rip your arms off and beat you to death with them.
So that's what I'm trying to do with my chimps, I mean, twins. Less TV, more attention to manners, being persistent when it comes to making them listen and follow directions, more consistent with enforcing rules and consequences. It's exhausting. But I've been pleasantly surprised at their response. The better I am, the better they are. I took them to the library for story time yesterday, and it wasn't even awful! I'm going to socialize those cute little primates if it kills me!!!
I know we're only a week in, but I'm telling you folks, I'm going to own 2011. (Maybe? I hope??) But I've publicly stated it, so now I have to stick with it or face the shame and humiliation of failing in front of my entire internet community. Here's to hot, skinny mamas and well behaved kids!!!!
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