Stoopid Google Blogger

A few years ago during one of the many changes at Google, they did an update to Blogger and asked if I would like to update my dashboard or keep the old style. Being the non-fan of change that I am, I selected the old style. Well, they have gone and changed it again and since I'm old-skewl, my dashboard SUCKS. Like, I can't even spell-check my posts. All my post options are gone. There is no spacing between my paragraphs, etc. Everything is haywire! Does anyone know what to do to fix it? Ugly posts are making me hesitant to post. Bahumbug. Ha! Please send help!

House Hunting

So, we're house hunting and all that jazz. It's about time we lived like grown-ups instead of perpetually renting from my parents. I was just looking at the MLS for our desired areas, and boy is it bad! I would not want to be a realtor! I mean, you shouldn't have to tell people certain things. If you have a mirror on your ceiling in the master, I will not be able to get the image of your constant sexcapades out of my mind. If you have animal feces everywhere or it looks like you have never owned a vacuum, I am going to insist you install new flooring. That hurts your bottom line! I will have a hard time envisioning my own junk in the place if I can't even see the space due to your hoarding piles covering every square inch. Guess it's time to dust off the old imagination! :(

I'm Still Alive

So, 2012 has been one of the most difficult of my life. I have retreated in many aspects, including blogging (obvi.) But, I can't live my life under a rock, and if you'll have me, I'd like to make a return to blogging. I don't have much that I can report on in regards to what, exactly, was sucking the life out of me. But, I am better now. And I am getting better every day. So, I intend to continue writing and continue commenting on your blogs. Love and miss you all!

Lincoln

I still desperately need a hiatus, but since I always promise an update on Lincoln and never deliver, I figured I'd share the photo that will be on his birthday invite. I can't believe he is already 11 months old!

Blah

I'm in a bad place right now, and I think it would be best if I didn't blog about it. So, a slight hiatus it is. I'll be back. P.S. I absolutely despise cryptic blog posts but trust me that I need to keep my thoughts to myself. Thanks.

Here I Am!

Man, it feels like forever and a day since I have posted anything over here. Lots of things have happened, in no particular order: * Rob's truck was totalled. He is taking it very hard. We are now down to one car and having to make some serious financial decisions. * I am now teaching classes that include CPR for infants and adults. I really enjoy it and am thankful for the opportunity. The one downside fo the job is that I am always worried I am not a good teacher. I don't know where the insecurity comes from other than I am an insecure person by nature. * I am debating on signing Lincoln up for swim lessons. Any thoughts? My mom is convinced he will get ear infections, and several other moms have told me it is a waste this young. It is literally not an option to not swim during summer here and I want him to know how to stay safe. Hmn.... * We took it upon ourselves to lower Paris's dosage on her anti-seizure medicine and she is back to being her spritely self again. I don't want her to have another seizure but her quality of lie is compromised beign so drugged out. * Lincoln is standing on his own for brief stints. Where did my tiny, squishy baby go? I promised to put a new picture up of him and now it is time for his quarterly photo to be taken again so I will just post one of those, probably. He is sooo cute!

Moms, Give Me Your Advice

Lincoln is 8.5 months old and does not sleep through the night. He has a bedtime routine and always goes to bed at the same time. On a good night he will wake up once, and then again for the day some time after 6:30. On a bad night he might be up several times.

In the past week I have allowed him to CIO if he has been up within the hour.

Generally speaking, CIO is not always a winner with him. I am learning that it works with some kids, not all, and that it is not to be relied on as a tried-and-true strategy for us.

Lately I am reading conflicting information from various doctors on when it is appropriate for a child to sleep through the night. I haven't asked my physician, but he was the one who told me to CIO to begin with so I am thinking that is what he might say. I have read from multiple sources that breastfed babies never fully sleep through the night till they are weaned.

When he only wakes once, I don't mind it too much. I know it won't be forever. I'm just not sure how I feel. He is stirring as I write this and he has been down for a mere hour. I read an article last week where the physician author said that babies do not have coping skills prior to 9 months so basically you're just hoping they wear themselves out.

I know I have sought advice on naps before, and we are doing better in that department, but I would really like to know what other nursing moms have experienced. (I know formula babies burn their food off slower.)

An Update

I went to the doctor yesterday regarding my, ahem, "issues. Here is the conversation as best I recall it:

Dr: So, no bleeding, no pain, etc.?

Me: Nope.

(The she examines me.)

Dr: Huh.

Me: Uh...?

Dr: Well, you had one of the most severe tears I've seen. I really figured we'd be scheduling you a surgery today. I didn't think the treatment plan would work.

Me: Uh...?

Dr: Well, you're healed. I didn't think you would!

Me: I'm glad you have a good poker face! I would've been despondent at the thought of another surgery.

Dr: It's incredible. A miracle, really.

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

This FANTASTIC news really makes it much easier to continue pounding laxatives for the next year (long story.) And when I do get around to another pregnancy, you can bet your life's savings that I will begin scarfing milk of magnesia waaaay before I deliver and for a lonnnnnng time after. Lesson learned!

Oh, and I will not be having a colonoscopy. Praise Jesus!

Why?

Why is it, that when you're about to have a medical procedure done, people feel compelled to tell you just how awful of an experience you're about to have?

My CT scan is in a couple of hours, and it really perturbs me the number of people who have "warned" me that the barium liquid is terrible. I know it is terrible. I have sat through the procedure a number of times with my brother, watched him steel his nerves against vomiting on the carpet, etc. As it is I am fasting so that gives me a headache. And I'm terribly concerned Lincoln will decide to stop nursing since he will have to take a bottle for 24 hours.

So, lots on my mind without the added stress of helpful folks telling me how crappy my procedure will be. Same thing with my colonoscopy. Like, I didn't need you to tell me that having epic diarrhea for twelve hours followed by someone shoving a camera up my butt was gonna suck. I sorta figured as much on my own. Sheesh.

My mantra is: someone else is going through a way worse procedure, and I continue to be thankful for modern medicine. Period. Thank you, sweet Jesus, for barium liquid, for cameras to go up butts, and for doctors who committed their lives to looking up butts for their living!

A Letter

Dear Everyone Asking When I'm Going to Have Another Baby,

First and foremost, how rude! There are several reasons why you should never ask someone such a question and they include (but are not limited to) fertility issues, sex issues and money issues. But! Since you asked, I am going to answer.

I believe with all my heart that you owe it to your kids to be the best you can be. This means doing your best to raise them properly. Now, Lincoln is only 8 months old. If I were to be pregnant, that would mean having two children under the age of two. Now, plenty of people love that scenario and for many it works. Let me be clear: I could not be the best possible mother with two kids that close in age.

I just couldn't.

It would be a disservice to my offspring. More power to ya if that is your deal, but to be my best for them, I need some spacing.

And another thing! Baby making is supposed to be fun. To be honest, we are not yet back to fun. Because Lincoln is still almost exclusively breast fed, and in combination with lovely hormones, I suffer the same issue as most menopausal women. Yeah, I'm lucky like that. So, with my sex life in the (temporary) crapper, it is highly unlikely I will be having that oh-so-special baby making sex. (Aren't you glad you read my blog so you can get guaranteed TMI posts in your feed? No. Harumph.)

And last but certainly not least, I am broke. So broke, in fact, that I probably qualify for public assistance. I don't believe you should accept benefits unless you really need them, so for now I haven't collected. But my point here is that if I can barely afford the kid I have now, I don't really have any business making another one. When the glorious day arrives that we no longer live with my parents, and are more financially stable, I will hurriedly get knocked up.

We do want more kids in the future, but in the meantime we are enjoying the infant we still have. I'm so glad you're happy that you knocked out a grip of kids consecutively. I also appreciate you think I have the mettle to do the same. But please, for the love of all that is Holy, do not ask me at the zoo in front of 5 other women, at church, in the grocery store (I'm looking at you, Strangers!) or any other time for that matter. Procreation is personal. I don't mind sharing certain things in private, but as someone who didn't get pregnant the very second they started trying, I really wish you'd stop asking when Blessing #2 is scheduled to make an appearance.

Signed,

Happy With What I've Already Got

Well, Crap!

I am thinking of re-naming this blog "Debbie Downer Central" because it seems all I have to write about lately is bad stuff. Sigh.

My doctor's office called. To make a long story short, back when I had my gallbladder removed, the e.r. doctor noted some irritation with my colon. We all know I procrastinated on seeing the colon specialist and initially she said I didn't need a colonoscopy, that my issues were related to my fissure. She did say that she would review my CT scan to be sure, but that usually those who don't specialize in the colon don't typically know what they're looking at.

I guess that random dude DID know what he was looking at because now I have to have a colonoscopy. I am kicking myself so hard for waiting so many months. How could I endanger myself this way? I am such a fool. I have a baby that I really want to live to see grow up.

So, now I have to worry about healing up this fissure, only to have a camera shoved up my butt immediately after. Two steps forward, three steps back.

I just keep telling myself I am blessed to live in a country where such medical procedures are available. I could've been born in a Third World country. I could've waited a year instead of 6 months. "Shoulda, woulda, coulda." People are already telling me how awful the bowel prep kit is. Well, I will take it if it means peace of mind and taking care of my health. Going forward I am going to learn from my mistakes and take charge of my health. The alternative is much, much worse.

PLEASE learn from my mistakes and go to the doctor if you need to!

Scarrrrrred

As you may recall, about two weeks ago I lost a friend to a sudden illness. She was in good health and it has sent all who knew her reeling.

In all the years I have known him, my husband has never called out sick from work. Today he did.

And today, without the usual fuss, he allowed me to make him a doctor's appointment.

I should disclose that the night prior, I had a headache and asked him to cancel his plans with a friend to help me with Lincoln. The second he walked in the door he kept saying how sick he felt, and he even took a 2-hour nap on the couch, all while I seethed that I never get a break from parenting. He even apologized before bed, explaining that he really did feel extremely sick.

My husband has pneumonia. Lots of people get it, but it is also to be taken seriously. He had been coughing for going on 7 weeks, but yesterday his symptoms went from annoying to extremely concerning.

Clearly we have issues in this family with going to the doctor in a timely fashion.

Anyway, I am confident in his treatment and expect a quick recovery. But! If you can learn anything from my crankiness, it is that we all need to exercise compassion, regardless of how we are feeling. And also, hold your loved ones a little tighter.

Warning: TMI Post

There's a saying I really like that floats around out there. I'm sure you've heard a version of it. It goes something along the lines of, "You plan, God laughs."

There are two reasons I had a c-section and both were equally important for me. The first being that I honestly didn't feel woman enough to deliver vaginally. The mere thought of a natural birth gave me an anxiety attack. No exaggeration.

The second reason was, I was hoping to avoid stuff like hemorrhoids. Yeah, well, I'd take only hemorrhoids over the other post-birth complications any day!

I, my friends, have a severe internal fissure. Why am I telling the internet this? Because hopefully it makes one other woman not afraid to go to the doctor, not afraid of the exam, or not afraid, in general, to talk about what happens after you have a baby.

A simple Wikipedia search returned some info, but it wasn't quite accurate for my situation. You see, my tear is internal. There is no exterior evidence. Basically, I have a rip in my muscle wall. The doctor said that it can take over a decade to heal because the area never gets any rest. Basically the skin covering the muscle can't be pulled taught if it is going to heal; rather, it needs to loosen up so a scab can form. Well, if you ever poop, the skin is pulled taught.

Everybody poops.

There, I said it.

I guess now this is a poop blog.

To be honest, I put off going to the doctor for months because I was so mortified over what the exam would entail.

It was over in less than a minute and was painless. The doctor treated me with total dignity and put me at ease. She was heaven sent! The other reason I avoided going was because I didn't want bad news (i.e. my brother's cancer) and I didn't want a colonoscopy.

Both reasons are foolish.

I have a child and i owe it to him to set a good example and take care of myself.

Anyway, treatment is not glamorous but what can ya do?

Please, I implore you, if you're having issues, please see someone.

And yeah, everybody poops.

Phew! 1 Down, 1 To Go!

I saw the dermatologist today.

The suspicious spot on my face is NOT skin cancer. I am so thankful!

He also removed an unsightly mole, and gave me an awesome rate to have all my cherry angiomas removed, which I plan to schedule as soon as I can find someone to watch Lincoln. Lasers may be my new best friend!

Friday's appointment is the one I am dreading the most, as the idea of someone looking up my butt automatically gives me hives. However, I keep reminding myself that Lincoln needs his mother and it is my responsibility to take care of my health. If not for my sake, than his. To soften the blow I also remind myself that someone deliberately CHOSE this particular specialty, even if I think it is a heinous job. Hey, someone's gotta do it, right? So very thankful for specialists who work in the field of Gross!

Rough Week

So, last week was super sad.

This week won't be much better, and it stands to be a lot more stressful.

I am trying to help organize meals and the memorial service for my friend who passed. I really hope I can do well by her family.

In the midst of all that I have two doctor appointments I am absolutely dreading. On Wednesday I have to see a dermatologist to make sure whatever is on my face isn't skin cancer. On Friday I have to see a different specialist to make sure that I don't have colon issues of some sort. Fun! Not really.

If you're so inclined, please send some good vibes or prayers my way that I don't screw up what should be a special day to honor and celebrate my friend, and that my body isn't trying to tell me bad news.

Much obliged.

Sad Day

A friend of mine died this morning.

She got sick and then within a day she was gone.

Her daughter is in preschool and her son is in kindergarten.

I can't begin to fathom the loss for her husband and sweet babies.

Sometimes life just doesn't make sense. I know it isn't for me to understand, or anyone for that matter. It is just such a heartbreaking tragedy.

Today is a sad day.

12

Every time I try to sit down and blog, Lincoln throws a fit. The way I see it, he is my "employer" and I owe it to him to tend to him and entertain him, so....blogging takes a back seat.

The title of this post is a reference to my pant size. Halellujah! I haven't been a 12 since I got married. And by golly, I vow to keep losing more weight. Yes, I did just spill the beans to the internet about my pant size. No shame here! (All the shame is in regards to my previous pant size. Sigh.)

I will post a picture of Lincoln this week. I can't believe he is already 7 months old. Where did the time go??

Oh, and he is finally sleeping in his own room. It was a painless transition. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was sick of rooming with us. He has adored his fancy-schmancy mattress since day one. He is sleeping for long stretches, too. My sole complaint is that he won't sleep in there for naps, or if it is light outside. I am debating spending the money on blackout curtains, per his pediatrician's recommendation. My concern is he will then be accustomed to only sleeping in the pitch black. I am constantly worried about starting bad habits. Sigh. (Again.)

Love to you all!

Eeeew!

Sometimes when I am desperate and poor I eat Kraft Mac 'n' Cheese. The kind in a blue box. It isn't often, as I prefer a sauce made from scratch with a roux as opposed to orange powder, but you get the point.

Yesterday at our Super Bowl party I made some of the Kraft stuff for the kids in attendance. I figured they wouldn't like my veggie pasta with rosemary and garlic. I put it in a large serving dish on the same table as the food being served to the grown-ups (which, incidentally, there was plenty of the "good" food for the kids to eat but sometimes kids are picky and I like to cater to all parties...it wasn't like I treat my friend's kids like second class citizens.)

To my complete shock, some adults put the mac 'n' cheese on their plates! Now, I am confused. Did they take some to be polite? Are they picky eaters?

Basically I am mortified that an adult would think the Kraft stuff was something I was actually presenting for consumption at a party!

I Don't Care About the Game

We're having our 5th annual Super Bowl party this weekend and I couldn't be more excited!

For the food, that is. Truth be told, I don't care much for sports. I do, however, enjoy the socializing and the snacking. We are expecting somewhere around 20 people, excluding the 7 of us, which I feel is a fun number.

My only qualm with the party is that there are too many good recipes to choose from and only one party! Typically I go way overboard (last year I made 8 different appetizers) so this year I am going to reign it in a little. Please feel free to add to my agony by sharing a recipe I can bookmark for next year!

Here is our menu sans desserts, which I am still brainstorming:

Hot wings
Spinach rolls
My mom's famous version of "Queso"
Pasta salad
Meatball sliders

A Week in Hell

I have decided that we can immediately cease torturing terrorists and prisoners of war with traditional methods like water boarding. Instead, we can employ them to sleep train infants using the Cry It Out (CIO) method.

Prior to having children, I felt that CIO was inhumane. One week into the process, I still feel that way. Except, I don't know if it is worse on Lincoln or myself. He and I could easily get into a pissing match over who is suffering more! But then, I also feel conflicted....

I have suffered from chronic insomnia since I was 10 years old. It would be nightmarish for me to envision passing along bad sleep habits to my son. Sleep is vitally crucial to not only physical health, but mental health as well. Mom after mom after mom has told me that CIO is vital to teaching a baby to self soothe and become a strong sleeper. My pediatrician also recommends it.

On the other hand, I was reading a study on trauma and it said that even though you don't have memories from infancy, any time something traumatic happens (such as being left to cry with little to no interaction, especially if you're scared) the information is stored in your middle brain (amygdala.) This is important because scientists believe the information stored in the amygdala is what forms your personality. I don't think CIO will turn Lincoln into a future serial killer but I want him to feel safe, secure and loved.

I will be the first to admit, I have a mess on my hands. My mom seems to think I created the nightmare myself, but that is because she is a conspiracy theorist who doesn't believe in Lincoln's diagnosis of reflux disease (even as someone who suffers from it herself...but that's a whole 'nother Oprah!) Let me explain....

Lincoln never screamed his head off in pain from having reflux. We discovered he had it because he would barf and barf and barf some more. We're not talking a little but at a time, either. He has needing to eat constantly because he couldn't hold down enough food. We have tried various medicines and dosages, but part of the alternative treatment plan is that he needs to be burped for a minimum of twenty minutes and he has to sleep elevated.

The elevated sleeping is where we have encountered trouble. For the past couple of months he has slept in a bassinet that essentially leaves him in a sitting position. He has been an excellent sleeper since 6 weeks but started reverting to early infant cycles, waking every 1.5-2 hours. At first I thought it was a growth spurt but then I determined he was not able to sleep comfortably in his special bassinet. Additionally, babies need to sleep in cribs so they can wriggle and move as part of their motor development, something that can't happen when you're being squished to sleep.

Also, we are travelling later this month and I don't want to torture our lovely hosts with a baby who won't sleep because he doesn't have his bassinet, etc. I decided to transition him to a pack 'n' play for nighttime and his crib during the day. Thus far, he has decided his crib is entirely off limits. He cried for close to 70 minutes one day, which lead me to caving and picking him up so my neighbor wouldn't call CPS. There also seems to be a problem with the ducting going into his room so it is exceptionally cold. I need to have the landlord send someone to fix it but I haven't been too worried since sleeping in the pack 'n' play is priority for our trip.

I am torn about whether we have made any progress. I started with a wedge under him for elevation, but he would wind up sideways or upside down, which is not helpful. I took the wedge out but now he seems to cough on bile almost every night and sometimes it wakes him up. While he will sleep in there, he absolutely will NOT nap in there. And the longest he will sleep is four hours. So much for sleeping through the night at 6 months! I am not sure if the fact that he is breastfed is part of the problem, since he burns off the milk fast. I don't feel I am producing enough but formula is out. Rice cereal before bed hasn't helped. His frequent wakings have led me to put him in his swing at about 4 a.m. so I can get a solid two hour stretch of rest before conquering my day. This is a bad habit made worse by the fact that he is outgrowing the swing.

When we return from California he will be 6 months old and he will be sleeping in his crib, come hell or high water. The time is now. I do not want to "ruin" him and I need some more sleep for myself, even if it means a long trek to the nursery for frequent feedings.

I'm very frustrated. Please send encouragement.

5 Months Post-Partum

So, here I am a little more than 5 months after birthing Mr. Lincoln. I had a doctor's appointment today to follow up with an issue I am having following his delivery. I need to see a specialist, which sucks donkey balls, but my doctor said she feels it is very unlikely I have cancer, despite my brother's history. Cancer is what I was fearing so I am glad for that.

The good news is, I am 22 pounds below my pre-pregnancy weight. I started off a fatty so I won't go too far and say I am rockin' a hot bod or anything, but I am pleased nonetheless. Thank you, breastfeeding! So, with the 17 pounds from pregnancy and the extra 22, I would say it is nice to have a few more options in the wardrobe department. I can fit into a 14, which is nice. I can also wear size Large and wear a few things from the juniors department, which hasn't seen me in many years. I still have a small ton of weight to lose, but I am one of those people with a sensitive milk supply so I have to be careful on going too hard for the sake of feeding Lincoln.

Before I had Lincoln, I didn't get what women meant when they said pregnancy changed their shape. Of course, I thought I did, but until that baby has exited your body, you never truly know what you're in for. My shape is very different. I still have too much "back fat." And to quote Caroline Manzo, I feel like "Eight pounds of sausage in a five pound casing." I can't really blame my c-section for my "mother's apron" because as I stated, I was a fatty beforehand.

Maybe I will have Rob photograph me when he gets home so I can document the transformation I am undergoing?!? I love to see people post those types of things but I don't want to come across as obnoxious. What do you guys think?

Most important of all, since Lincoln is starting foods, Rob and I need to set a good example for eating healthfully. We aren't buying junk food anymore. I will still bake, as it is a personal passion and I still feel treats have their place. It's just that my self control (or lack thereof) and willpower are pretty weak, and dessert doesn't belong with every meal (sob). We owe it to Lincoln to start him off on the right track. if he decides as an adult to eat poorly, at least I will know we did our part.

Flirty Thirty

On December 17th I celebrated my thirtieth birthday! Contrary to what I expected, I didn't agonize over the looming milestone, I didn't turn introspective and if I am being honest, I barely thought about it other than casually in passing over the days leading up to it. I truly thought I would be a hot mess about it but I wasn't. If I may say, I was proud of myself for holding it together! Ha!

I think it all boils down to being grateful. I have been blessed with everything I ever longed for, truly. There was a time in my life when I never thought marriage and a family would be a reality for me. But now, I have both.

Rob threw me a surprise birthday party with some of my Texas friends at my favorite local restaurant, a small French patisserie. It was very glamorous and I was so thankful! He organized a tasting menu with assorted gourmet pizzas, crudites, calamari, etc. He also arranged for a variety of cupcakes, all of which were delicious.

This is going to sound braggadocios but I also received several amazing gifts! My parents got me some fabulous earrings and Rob gifted me with a 5 carat light amethyst. The ring is seriously insane. I can't seem to take a picture that does it justice but for the sake of sharing my extreme glee, here is a picture:



On my actual birthday we hosted a benefit for a family we adopted through our bible study at our house. No better way to celebrate life than by giving back to others, right? Here are some shots from my birthday celebrations: