The Little Man & I “played” Scrabble while Daddy relaxed.
Concentrating
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So serious
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Gritty (effect)
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Finding Our Words
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More Weekly Winners at Lotus’s place.
Photos 1-3 use the “vignette” effect. Photo 2 was “sharpened” under the general fixes, since it was a little blurry, but I loved it enough to ‘fix’ it. Photo 3 also has the “gritty” effect. I only added a watermark (text, overlay) to photo 4.
I use Picnik Premium (that I paid for myself).
My New Year’s Baby turned 3, and on Saturday the 2nd, we had a little party for him.
He started the day wearing Mommy’s necklace.
Ethan "The Little Man"
His best friends came over.
Aidan "The Big Guy"
Chloe "C.C."
He got some help blowing out the candle.
I paid WAY too much for this cake…
…but I guess it was worth it.
While the kids burned off the sugar high by racing around the dining room table…
…I loved up on Baby Odin.
They wrapped up the party by attacking Daddy B (Aidan’s dad) with party favors!
It was pretty much the perfect party.
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Find more weekly winners at Lotus’s place.
Today marks the second anniversary of Madeline Alice Spohr’s birth.
Today I weep a little more than usual for my friends, Heather and Mike.
Today I weep for the loss of my son’s friend, Maddie.
Ethan and Maddie
Today I reflect on how extremely lucky I am to have had a second birthday with my own preemie.
Snoozing and sunbathing in the incubator
Today I hope and pray for Baby Binky Spohr, growing steadily inside of Mama Spohr, to be born healthy, happy, and not too early.
Today I ask you to give what you can to the Friends of Maddie Foundation — for Maddie, for Ethan, for Aidan, for all of us parents of preemies who spent far too long in the NICU, for all the babies who fight daily to survive because they were born too soon.
Under the lights in his incubator
November is Prematurity Awareness Month. Please join me in donating to the Friends of Maddie Foundation TODAY to celebrate Miss Maddie Moo’s life and the success of my own preemie baby.
Five days old - precious time out of the incubator
My big boy now ~ nearly 3 years old
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Especially when asked if we’ll be having more children. So very thankful for the one I DO have.
In good news, I went back to the Endocrinologist yesterday and my crackah-ass thyroid is FINALLY back to “normal” after nearly 3 years of messing with medications. I’m not going to hold my breath that this lasts.
Have a good weekend, everyone! A huge THANK YOU to our Troops & Veterans on this early Veteran’s Day Weekend.
Aka, recapping my long gone vacation (see part one). Cuz um, what else do I have to do right now? Right. Don’t answer that.
Okay scrap the recap. Just look at my kid. Yes, his lips are ACTUALLY that color.
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Titi’s new (back then) haircut and a new face he’s taken to making quite often.
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Titi definitely had a fun trip (while it lasted). We turned down the heat in the hot tub so that we could “swim” in it, we took Sasha for walks, and found the most easily accessible beaches for Warrior’s broken foot. (Yeah, he was on month three of wearing his “Big Black Boot” during August. The fun never stops for the Cracker Family.)
Stay tuned for part three that includes the requisite beach photos! Woohoo!
As most of you know, I had surgery on my broken ankle a little over a week ago. I was put under general anesthesia and had numerous x-rays the week between breakage and fixage (I totes just made that up).
WARNING: FEMALE TMI AHEAD
A day and a half before I broke my ankle, I got what I thought was my period. My first off-birth-control-cuz- 9/1/09-we’re-gonna-start-trying-for-a-baby-period. Since my on-birth-control-periods of late have been ultra light and short I didn’t know what to expect.
So this first off-bc-period was short. But strange. But I didn’t think much of it. Cuz, oh HAI! Not only am *I* a cracker, but my body is, too (see: 50 days until a positive pregnancy test with the Little Man).
Friday, August 14th, 9am-ish, I break my ankle by (seriously) TRIPPING OVER A GAS HOSE THAT WAS PUMPING GAS INTO MY CAR at the Gas Station (as if that wasn’t clear). (Heh.)
WARNING: MEDICAL TMI AHEAD
I get numerous x-rays taken, a shot of morphine in the ass (doc asks, there’s no chance you’re pregnant, right? Me: No. Doc: SURE sure? Me: Like, on my period sure.), and a buttload of vicodin (ok, just 30) and a few valium to help me sleep.
The week leading up to the surgery, I’m on vicodin and then norco (twice as much narcotic painkiller and less acetaminophen than vicodin) nearly 24/7.
Friday, August 21st, 3pm-ish, I get my general anesthesia, some IV fluids, antibiotics and then more IV pain meds when I wake up.
Around 6pm the anesthesiologist comes by and asks about my pain and offers a nerve block — sort of like an epidural for your leg — and since I was kinda sorta hyperventilating from the pain, I said OH SURE!! Hook me up!!!
Before he started he jokingly said, “No yelling.” Then he stuck a bunch of needles into the back of my knee and top of my calf and jutted them around to hit all the nerves. A few of the nerves caused my foot and leg to twitch repeatedly and involuntary. It hurt a bit, but apparently I am awesome because he said, “WOW. You’re tough!” Which, DUH. (Snort.)
That starts to sink in but I’m still feeling some pain, so the nurse asks, “would you like a vicodin?” WHY YES I WOULD!! “Have you had these before?” WHY, YES, I HAVE!! “Would you like one or two?” TWO PLEASE!!!!
So I got two vicodin with a side of Sprite and graham crackers. By the time we left the Surgery Center, I was feeling no pain.
By the time I got settled at home, I was very, very high.
I took a norco before bed and called it a day.
Saturday, August 22nd, sometime-ish, popping norco every three hours, nerve block wears off, I start bleeding. NOT from my incision sites.
Hmm…that’s weird. I just HAD my period. Maybe it’s all the adrenaline and stress and trauma. (It’s happened before!)
Pop another norco.
Sunday, Monday, continue norco and bleeding. Appetite suppressed. Maybe the pills?
Tuesday, white wine spritzer. First drink in over a week. Causes heartburn. Strange. Same as above.
Wednesday, white wine spritzer. Same as above.
Thursday, something is wrong. I’m still bleeding (never A LOT). I’m slightly nauseous. I don’t want an alcoholic beverage (SOMETHING IS VERY WRONG)(snort). Maybe I should take a pregnancy test.
Thursday, August 27, 9:55pm, take a pregnancy test. Hmmm…there’s a faint line there…it’s getting darker. HOLY SHIT IT’S POSITIVE.
HUH.
Well. Hmm. WOW. Huh.
Warrior: How’d THAT happen?? We didn’t even…I mean uh….
Me: WELL I HAVEN’T BEEN SLEEPING WITH ANYONE ELSE IF THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE IMPLYING!!! (He wasn’t.)
Me: You think the baby’s fried? (Heh.)
No more norco.
Friday, August 28, Midnight, still awake. Damn fried baby thoughts keeping me awake.
9:10am, call the doctor.
9:30am, send Warrior across the street to borrow a pregnancy test.
9:55am, hear from the doctor. She acknowledges my crackerness in not so many words. (LOVE my doctor.)
10:00am, piss on a weird paper stick pregnancy test. Fail to realize that I PEED ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE STICK. BECAUSE THIS WAS SOME CHEAP ASS STICK THAT ONLY HAD THE PEE PAPER ON ONE SIDE OF THE STRIP.
10:02am, I am a pregnancy test failure. Null result.
11:00am, Warrior goes out for more pee sticks, dog medicine & food, lunch for preggers.
11:37am, Warrior home. I pee on another stick. Very clearly positive. (Oh yeah, STILL BLEEDING.)
3:30pm, go get blood drawn to test HCG levels.
4:30pm, Endocrinologist appointment. Thyroid still fucked. Let’s up meds to cover baby.
5:25pm, I think we’re getting a little excited about the idea of a baby.
Rest of the evening, I’m in a great amount of pain from my ankle and my uterus. More blood.
Saturday, August 29, morning, I feel nauseated. Good sign, right???
Sunday, August 30, morning, I don’t feel nauseous. I feel better! My uterus must be empty.
4:30pm, take another pregnancy test, IT’S NEGATIVE. Like I thought it would be. Cuz I felt empty. And not full.
Evening, hash out the negative test with my girls. Almost convinced it’s a fluke. Want to believe it’s a fluke. But I feel empty.
Monday, August 31, morning, I feel nauseous and dry heave a few times. Maybe this is a good sign? Slight headache coming on.
10:20am, attempt to get blood drawn. Dude can’t get no satisfaction from my arm. Goes for my hand. Ow.
11:00am, appointment with sleep doctor. I haven’t been sleeping. (More info in another post.)
12:20pm, I’m out to lunch with my Mother-in-Law, dining on tasty garlic noodles while my OB leaves a message at home saying that the HCG levels went from 287 on Friday to 193 today. Looks like an early miscarriage.
12:45pm, text message from Warrior checking in. Tells me his Big Boot remains for another three weeks (he broke his foot very badly on MAY 11TH. THREE AND A HALF MONTHS AGO).
1:38pm, actually get the message from my doc. Start to spread the word that there will be no baby this time.
1:50pm, take a norco and half a valium, as my headache has turned into a migraine and I’M NOT PREGNANT, so I can do that.
Afternoon, hash out my miscarriage with my girls.
UPTAKE:
80 hours is just enough time to get excited about having a baby. Even if it’s possibly drugged and fried.
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Please send me something funny if you want to do something at all. Or booze. Or chocolate. But please don’t send me flowers. (I hope this doesn’t sound presumptuous.)
I’m sharing this with you, not for sympathy (although that can be nice (heh)), but because that’s what “mommy bloggers” do, right? And hey, it’s easier to tell everyone at once. I hope the more we share, the more normal “these things” become.
I’m also hoping this will quiet the questions in my mind.
(((HUGS)))
Dear Little Man,
I can’t believe how much you have grown in the year since I stopped Mommy Blogging (Let’s face it — I totally let this ship sink. But can you blame me?? You are WAY more work now. You just. don’t. stop. (Moving on.)).
I love that you still say you are “Mama’s baby.” You make sure I know, and Daddy knows, that YOU are MY baby and Daddy’s Big Boy.
You have a smile that will excuse most of your sins. Flashing that grin and trying to win us over to avoid a time-out? Pretty sure you learned that trick from Mama.
One day a few months ago, you told me that you wanted to go pee-pee on the potty. I was compliant, as usual, but VERY surprised when you actually wanted to pull down your pants and diaper and then proceeded to PEE! ON THE POTTY!!! Like, WHOA, dude.
Since then we’ve had our accidents and what are clearly NOT accidents, but you pretty much potty trained yourself at two and a half. Pretty cool, dude. We’re proud and stuff, but it’d be okay if you still wanted to piss in your diapers. But the pooping on the potty thing?? FUCK YES. Thank you sweet baby Jesus.
You are clear about wanting a baby brother and NOT a baby sister. We’re not sure what that says about your relationships with your friends, but we’re hoping you’ll like a baby sister just as well if that’s what you end up with. We’d like to be working on that project, but DANG KID, you could go to bed a little bit earlier, mmkay?? Help a mom out.
You started “toddler school” in June with your best girl friend, CC. At first you hated being left, but now you LOVE it. We even had one of your teachers babysit last night and you were like, “Later dudes!! Get the eff out cuz I gots a hot date with my fave teach!!” and we were all, “Well OKAY THEN!! We’ll LEAVE!! Love ya, bye!!!” So we went out and had a fabulous time.
If I could make a request it would be that you quit the ugly face and whiny voice. That shit is TOTALLY annoying. CAN. NOT. STAND. IT. And don’t try to work that smile on me, baby! NOT WORKING THIS TIME!!
One incarnation of the Ugly Face
No matter what, I love you, my Big Boy. Don’t worry, you’ll always be my Baby.
Love,
Mama V
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