No Really... I Swear!

Remember that mom's group I found around the time that Fynn arrived?  The one that had their first get-together (after I'd heard of them) the night of Fynn's first shot?

And the second one the day of Tom's and my fifth wedding anniversary? 

The one that canceled every other get-together while I was off work and held two in a row the first two days I was back at work? 

The one where I stalked the leader and dragged my girls out in a storm to buy Girl Scout cookies, but the mom wasn't there? 

The one where I finally knew we were going to meet because there was this trip to the exotic animal sanctuary that's been in the works for almost two months?  That got snowed out yesterday.

I don't know if any of my friends are beginning to doubt their existence.  It really doesn't matter.  I am.

Still An Issue

Peek over my shoulder as I read my latest email, won't you?  It's brief.

You, Miss Shannon, are a doll!  Even if you can't seem to get buttons, zippers, etc. down.  :)

Snow Blossoms

Saturday was stormy.  "Sewiously windy," Mad said every time it seemed like a train screamed past.  Our 40-50 pound barbecue was blown off the patio and tumble about 10 feet.  Some time after the girls were in bed, rain turned to snow.  Not a lot.  Enough.

Storm or no, spring is coming, my friends.

Deepish Thoughts

As part of my job, I go wherever my employers have their materials.  One of my employers runs the business from her gorgeous home near the top of the foothills.  One morning Nance and I went to pick up a job.  The smell emanating from her house was noxious.  She said that her trainer had her cooking a bunch of broccoli the previous night and that it, for some reason, was still hanging in the air.


Last night I made a bunch of broccoli, pureed it and tossed in the freezer for future consumption by one Fynnie Fynn.


Last night and today I noticed a serious lack of noxious smells.  Except from Maisy, who'd gotten into the compost.


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I have a dilemma.  If I hold my stomach in, I look better.  An odd side effect is that my belly button goes up more than an inch.  Not to an unusual height or anything.


Dilemma?  That makes my breast over an inch closer to my belly button.  I'll bet if I had another baby, I'd eventually be bumping my breasts with my knees.  While walking.


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Last week I made a wild and crazy suggestion to Tom.  It used to be that he enjoyed my weird ideas.  This one involved sending the kids away to Grandma's for at least a day, possibly an overnight, this weekend.  To clean and organize our home.


A snowy pass and a long Saturday morning at work for Tom have eliminated the possibility for this weekend.  We have plans for next weekend that are supposed to be just as fun.  Trip to an exotic animal sanctuary with that mom's group I found when Fynn was born.  It could be fun, I guess.


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Speaking of the mom's group... I hunted down the woman who started the group yesterday.  Her daughter was selling Girl Scout cookies at Albertson's (which Mad now thinks is The Cookie Store).  Bundled up the girls, complete with hair and unstained, appropriate clothes for all of us.  Met the daughter of the mom, other Scouts and a couple of other mothers.  The mother wasn't there.  She apparently just missed us and heard how adorable my girls are.


I am so freaking close to making friends up here.  Part of me wonders if I've hallucinated the upcoming trip to the animal sanctuary.


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Mad thinks "Ins Mints" are the best thing ever.  She was disappointed Fynnie couldn't try them.


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Fynnie's first tooth erupted today.  About an hour after we got up.  She was chewing on my knuckle and it wasn't there.  She nursed, went back to the knuckle and there it was.  Thank goodness, poor baby.  She's the first one of my children to need anything more than a cool washcloth to help her get through.

Dear Abby I'm Not

Notice some subtle changes to my blog?  Yeah, well I was going to explain to someone else just how easy it would be to change hers.  Only I needed to go through the steps so I'd know what the heck I was saying.  For some reasons, changes took place without my meaning to.  Once those occurred, additional changes did not take place no matter how hard I tried.


Hmmph.


Yes, I was supposed to be working on something else anyway.  What?

Well Alrighty Then

Me:  What are you doing?


Madelyn:  I am coming out of my room.


Why?


I need to fold towels and clothes.

For My BB Buddies

There are good things and bad about joining an online pregnancy birth board.  Enough of a roller coaster that I haven't recommended joining one to any of my pregnant friends.  The ups are the friends you can make.  I've made a few good ones.  Mostly they live at the north end of this state, with a couple spread around the country.  Belly laughs are another great thing.  I have rarely laughed so hard at my computer as I have while reading posts on my birth board.


It's addictive.  While pregnant with Fynn, I seemed able to only sleep up to eight hours a day.  If I napped, that meant less sleep at night (good practice for those I-didn't-nap-but-I'm-still-not-getting-any-sleep nights).  August 7, 2010, for example, I took a short nap.  Thus, I was online responding to posts when my water broke August 8 at 2:20 A.M.


The downsides include a lot of unnecessary drama; you get 12,000 pregnant woman together and avoid drama.  Not surprisingly, the hair flips have died down since babies have started sleeping more and moms are feeling more human again.


A huge drawback... and the one that keeps me from promoting birth boards to expectant and new mamas... is that someone is going to have that awful, heartbreaking experience and the rest of us are going to go through it with them at some level, too.


Watching Mini Cooper fight to live... and then not make it.  It felt like losing a nephew.  It still hurts.  A lot.


Of course, there are the ones who do battle and win.  Gavin was born within days of Cooper.  He should be a few weeks younger than Fynn, but he turned nine months old about a week ago.  Gavin is strong and beautiful, and I love finding out what he's up to next.  You can check out the most adorable video of him giggling here.  It'll do your heart good.


Sometimes a baby is born perfectly healthy and things still go haywire.  Take Baby Scarlett, for example.  She was born in October.  Went to her two month check up, where the parents asked questions about the strange bruising on her forehead.  Last month she had two surgeries to remove a tumor from her brain.  The doctors got it all, but she needs to begin chemotherapy next week.  In all honesty, I follow Scarlett's story, but not as closely as "my boys," Gavin and Cooper, or "my girl," Evelyn.  It's hard on the heart. 


Going back to the good parts of being on a birth board, people really pull around one another.  Monday night when I was sitting in the ER with Fynn, I had a solid group of women sending up love, prayers and well wishes.  Such a short-term event, but it really brought home for me how much that support can mean.\


So I am doing what I can to pass on that support.  One of my Triple B's (uh, yeah, that's birth board buddies) has set up a scrapbooking service.  She's sending 15% of profits from any sales to help defray Scarlett's parents expenses.  If you could use a scrapbook, or you know someone who can, check her out.  Leave a comment between now and the end of Valentine's Day on this page, and you'll be entered in a drawing for a free scrapbook.  And if you find that she offers a service you'd like to use, know that you'll be helping a little girl and her parents.

Walk of Shame?

Left for work in the sun-not-quite-up hour yesterday morning.  Came home at 10:00 this morning wearing someone else's pants and T-shirt. 


Wild night partying?  I freaking wish.


Let me just start by saying there are some oddball traditions in my family that we really like.  Having Mad and Fynn delivered by nurses because there was no way for the doc to arrive in time (after ridiculous labors... I earned it!) is one.


And then there is the "my daughter had her first ride in an ambulance" tradition.  Tom and I are really over that one.


Went to pick up the girls yesterday evening.  Fynn felt a little warm.  Temperature was 101.4 and she wasn't quite herself.  However, I am usually driving her home by then, and she does sleep for about half of the trip.  I called the doc anyway and got guidelines for taking her to urgent care, as well as advice on managing things at home.  Tom spoke with his very knowledgeable mom who agreed with the doc.


As we'd just given Fynn acetaminophen before the doctor called, we decided to wait for her fever to go down (101.9 when the medication was given) before trekking home.  Ten minutes later I said that she seemed to be cooling down.  Margaret checked her temp again. 


Down?  Not even close.  It was 105.  I feel like an idiot who will never trust my hands and lips again.


We packed her up and headed straight to the car.  Just as I was about to put her in, she had a seizure.  My ability to communicate was sub-par.  All I told Tom was that we weren't going; call 911!


He had problems calling from his PDA (yes, I am working on my own words for what PDA really means).  He used Margaret's phone, but it was soon clear he didn't know what the hell was going on.  We got it straightened out and within 2 minutes help arrived.


Seeing the fire truck pull up brought back hard memories of Madelyn's injury, but they were quickly replaced with questions that needed to be answered.  Stupid easy questions took me a half-second longer to answer than they should.


What's her middle name?


*internally* Does she have a middle name?


We were advised to transport her via ambulance to the nearest hospital... (where she was born) a place we trust completely.  I rode with her.


When Mad and I went in the ambulance, she was calm and relaxed.  Not so with Fynn.  I was wearing some five- (or more) point harness, so it was tough to reach her.  I felt like I was fighting a parachute in the wind, but I managed to hold her hand, sometimes a foot, too.


I'll spare the minute-by-hour in the ER.  After Motrin was administered she actually perked back up.  That was more than doubly good because it meant she did not need to have a spinal tap to rule out meningitis.  Her lungs sounded perfectly clear, which meant we did not have to get chest X-rays.  The only diagnosis that couldn't be made without testing was regarding a bladder infection.  Fynn and I cried together as she was catheterized long enough to collect urine.  But the urine turned out to be clear.


It's a virus.  It's probably the same nasty virus that Tom, my mom and Corey all had this weekend.  It's miserable. 


We were released late last night into an ER lobby that was shockingly full of waiting babies and children. I'm so grateful that we were encouraged to take the ride in, as we were given a bed within a few minutes of arriving. Who knows how long we would have waited otherwise.  The three of us headed back to Dad and Margaret's, where we spent the night.  Neighbors from up and down the street dropped by to make sure Fynn was okay this morning.  That's the sort of neighborhood we need.


Mad and I are coming down with it, too.  But we know what to look for.  Tom is at the store now buying the girls their own bottles of acetaminophen, extra tissues, an ear thermometer and lots of water, Pedialyte and Gatorade.  Mad's been napping for two hours.  Fynn's been nursing and napping all morning.  I can't get out of this chair or I'd be asleep, too.  The good news is that Tom's feeling a lot better.  It gives us an idea of what to expect.  Plus, we're getting to spend the day together during the week, which is so rare.  (Yep, looking for all of the silver linings I can find right now.) 

And the Next Thing I Knew

... I was in Mexico.


No, really!  I went to pick up Mad and Fynn from Grandma and Papa's.  Decided to nurse Fynn for a few minutes before heading home.  Next thing I know, I'm wearing a sombrero, holding a margarita, and there's a donkey over in the corner.  Serapes everywhere.


So yes, I opened my eyes and said, "Margaret, I just went to Mexico.  Would you mind if I lay down in your bed before driving home?"


And I wonder why I'm getting dizzy spells.

Time Must Really Be Flying

Madelyn:  "I'm old.''


Mama:  "Huh?"


Madelyn:  "I'm getting old."


Mama:  "Oh!  You mean you're going to be three in April?  Right now you're two and you're going to be three?"


Madelyn:  "Now I'm five."