Past the Warranty Period

Hear It

2008-01-27T23:00:00.000-07:00

The stapedotomy experience was so peculiar. I was so nervous going in. When I finally got back into pre-op, I had to undress and put on this space-age hospital gown. It was made from thick paper, kind of like a vacuum cleaner bag, and similar to said bag, had reinforced circular holes in several places, along with various slits and vents. I also had to put on crotchless socks: knee-highs with no toes, and had my IV drip started. I felt very strange by this point, and even weirder when they hooked up my gown to an in-wall heating unit; a vacuum-cleaner-esque tube was attached to one of my holes and hot air was pumped in. That was the last good sensation I had for about 6 weeks.

Mark and the Manling got to join me, and we chatted and I knitted a bit on my Dashing gauntlets. We were separated from other patients by only a curtain so as we sat and sat and sat and waited for my doctor to arrive at the facility we heard such gems as "let's go ahead and wash your neck" - what kind of procedure was that guy having done? The anesthesiologist came in and went over a bunch of paperwork with me then asked me if I had any chipped teeth. At that point I asked frantically why and whether they were going to stick a tube down my throat. He looked surprised by not as much as I was when he informed me I was going to be put under General Anesthesia. At that point I freaked the fuck out, literally, since Mark and I had been under the assumption that was not the case. So the guy left and verified that it was indeed the case so I told him I was definitely going to need something, i.e. sedation because i was freaking out so badly. He gave me a shot of something, I said goodbye for what I was convinced was going to be the last time ever to Mark and the Manling, then was rolled down the hall and transferred to the operating gurney.

The next thing I recall is waking up in the recovery area, shaking so badly that my teeth were chattering involuntarily about 500x a minute, vomiting several times, and generally being so nauseous that I received a patch and several IV doses of every anti-nausea medication they had on hand. I also received a container holding my now modified stapes bone, a bone which I later learned is the smallest in your body. I spent that night puking but didn't feel too bad on the whole, although I was disappointed because another assumption I was laboring under was that my hearing would be dramatically improved at this point and it wasn't. Another gift I came home with was a couple of scratchy self-dissolving (riiiiight) stitches just behind my ear on my skull where the doctor had taken some tissue to pack in my new, robotic piston prosthetic.

The next day, I was escorted like a 900-year-old woman to a holiday tea, where I sat on a chair and felt the world spin and tilt all around me. Noises felt like they were being broadcast from inside my head and amplified fuzzily, but in general I felt ok. The noise thing didn't wear off for weeks, but the general good feeling wore off the next day. The contents of my head felt like it was expanding, rapidly, while my skull bones were shrinking even faster. I made it through the weekend, barely, the got steroids prescribed on Monday, and a fouler, more bitter-tasting medication there never was. They did the job, though.

One of my myriad post-op instructions involved how to keep my ear canal dry during bathing. I was supposed to coat a cotton ball in vaseline (my least favorite substance ever) and ram it down the canal. I waited 6 days to wash my hair, since I couldn't stand erect until then, and proceeded to get about 50 gallons of water down the tube. My 1-week post-op appointment was the next day so I had the nurse demonstrate the proper technique and was sent home with an equally useless shower cap that fit daintily over my ear. She explained to me then that my hearing would not necessarily seem like it had improved until the packing was removed 6 weeks post-op. At this point I was so frustrated and feeling like I had made the worst decision in my life to have this operation: no discernible improvement, the amplified broadcast noise, the dizziness, the exploding head sensation, the miserable showers and filthy hair.

After 2-3 weeks, my physical sensations seemed lessened so I only had the potential lack of hearing improvement to worry about. The solstice celebration we had helped my spirits improve dramatically, coinciding with the miserable year of abject depression and shit-luck, AKA 2007 nearly being over. The Manling really understands presents now and was a champ-een unwrapper. We didn't really get him many toys: a wooden train set, art supplies, a toy cell phone that made noises/lights (so he'd leave ours alone), and a few odds and ends. My parents got him a kid-sized table and chair set from Ikea and an art easel. He loves the "pretty lights" people hung up in the neighborhood and asked Mark to turn on the ones on ours every night.

But 2007 wasn't done giving me the stink-eye. Mark took my car to work just 2 days before it was finally over because it had snowed a lot and rear-ended a van on an acceleration ramp, which luckily sustained no damage. My car had extensive front-end damage, compounded by a damaged wiring system plug, dirt in the new paint, and a delay in the finishing touches, so it is still in the shop. Thank goodness for rental car coverage in our formerly inexpensive car insurance.

2008 hasn't been too much better and has already given me the biggest fuck you. But that's another blog post....

You've Got To Learn To Live With What You Are

2007-11-24T21:45:00.000-07:00

I don't even know where to begin to catch up. I have been on the thyroid 75mcg dose since the 1st week of October, and although I am not at rock bottom anymore, I still feel just blecch and depressed. I go for another thyroid blood test this next week. I am very curious to see if my dosage will be adjusted, and to what amount.

In a little over 2 weeks, I go under the knife. I have conductive hearing loss in my right ear, with at least 55% loss of hearing. It's so annoying, yet I'm terrified of the procedure (stapedectomy/stapedotomy) not working or getting infected with MRSI, that I'm having extreme anxiety about this as well. Apparently I have otosclerosis, and if I don't do anything, or if I get pregnant, it will get worse. But if I do get pregnant between now and then, I can't have the surgery. I don't think that's going to be an issue.

On the pregnancy front, there is still no good news. I didn't chart at all last month, nor for the past few months, so I don't even know if I ovulated or not. We did try though, so the arrival of my leetle friend was, as always, devastating.

Luckily I have the greatest kid in the world to partially make up for all of this. The Manling has really started talking a lot lately. He's putting together 2 and 3 word sentences, and what he talks about is amazing. He's so observant, and the way he makes connections between things is sometimes very illuminating or hysterically funny. I knitted Mark a stocking, and before I felted it, I laid it out on the ground to take pictures of it. He stared at it, the said "big sock", so I guess it actually resembled what it was supposed to; this was my very 1st sock/heel construction. Then he screwed up his little face in deep thought and looked down at his feet and said "baby sock." It was quite more impressive than it sounds here.

A better story follows. The Manling has been obsessed with balls and bats for a very long time now. He typically says "kick!" after he sees a ball or anything remotely ball-like, says the word ball, or hears anyone talk about balls. We're working on potty-learning, and the other day I took off his dipe in the bathroom before a bath, and a fresh round poop fell onto the ground. He announced "poop bawl!" He also knows that the litterbox is where "caht poop bawl" are located, put there but "Wee-wee" and "Gile." But I digress.... We were eating sausage pizza for what was his first time, although pizza is one of his favorite foods that he requests several times a week. He kept taking the sausage off his slice and wouldn't eat them. He was saying something about it, but it was loud, and he was on my deaf-ear side, so I missed what he said. When we got home, I told him to tell Mark what we did that day, and what we ate for lunch. He said "poop bawl pizza" or "pizza poop bawl," and I nearly died laughing. Also in his lexicon, is "pizza" instead of penis. He's a riot.

We started taking a weekly art class at a local community center. He generally enjoys the activites, but doesn't like getting paint or glue on his hands. He's also very fastidious in eating, and must have spills or drips immediately cleaned up with an imperiously announced "towl!"

My parents came out for 10 days. Vidalias went hunting with Mark for the weekend; they didn't even see any animals, and my mom hung out with The Manling and I. It was great to see them. We opened birthday presents, and ate a birthday cake. We also went to the very disappointing corn maze with them; apparently the hail we got multiple times in the summer really stunted the growth so the corn was only about 4' tall. This summer wasn't so good in many ways... We hadn't made a big deal out of The Manling's birthday, so I'm glad we got to do something a little festive for him. He blew out all his candles ( a big 2, plus 4 standard ones just for fun), and really enjoyed "birfday cake." He refers to any gift he got as birthday chairs, or birthday digger, etc to this day.

I think the highlight of their visit was that we went to the Westminster Promenade ice rink and he got to see some kids play hockey. He loves loves loves ice hockey, or "haw-hee" as he calls it. We took him to an Avs games last month which he really liked, and I record all the games so we can watch a few periods at a time. I've really gotten back into hockey, and Mark has discovered an affinity for it as well, but not nearly as much as the Little Man. He will point out "icesh," the go-wee," the "mashk" they wear, as well the "stick," "kates," and "hat" or "hehmeh" (helmet) the players use. I almost forgot the "buck!" We had talked about taking him to start ice skating lessons when he turns 3 (only 10 months away!) but we saw something this week that makes me think he might like just to go go ice skating this year: he placed 2 rectangular blocks, (and today 2 brochures) under his feet and called them skates while swinging his pirate sword ("bones") at a styrofoam ring (puck).

I am making a distinct and concerted effort to enjoy every bit of his life. I'm trying not to get too caught up in my problems so I can live in the moment with him. I am relishing each precious moment for itself, appreciating the great kid I have, and trying to ignore, yet fully cognizant of, that this might be the only time I get to go through this stage in someone's life. And so I have no regrets for breast-feeding for so long, or for using cloth diapers, or lying in his bed every night cuddling him or just lying there until he falls asleep, or letting him walk down the hallway in the middle of the night to come into our bed, etc. Although I must confess I sometimes can't stand the nights when he just won't sleep, or the weeks where he would just spit out food onto the floor, and I would get so mad and over-react. Then of course I feel so guilty and self-recriminating and feel like it's no wonder I can't get pregnant.

The only things keeping me relatively sane are that Mark has switched jobs to another big box retailer, and my knitting. So Mark is at a smaller big box, but he'd finally a general manager, making bigger bucks, and in charge of his schedule. After a few weeks of training, he'll get his own store and no more entire weeks of terrible mid-shifts so I get burned out; no more Mark missing impoertnant doctor appointments or art classes with the Manling. Though we are switiching insurance companies in January. Luckily I get to keep my existing doctor and hospital, and they are re-imbursing us the nearly $900/month COBRA bill.

I've become a knitting addict. I've made a few minor projects, changed my mind about the sweater I was dying to make and have settled on the Rogue, even completing one sleeve, and completed Mark's stocking, and am working on my stocking. I love cables, and my invitation to Ravelry finally came, so I've been poring over hundreds of great projects and patterns and yarns. Knitting has become so therapeutic for me. I never would have thought I'd ever be saying that.

Sick Of Dreaming

2007-10-09T01:23:00.000-06:00

After receiving a BFN on the pregnancy test, I got the Black Demon on CD35. I scheduled my thyroid test, due in July, soon thereafter. My TSH is up over 9 so I am back on the meds. Here's what I have to say about that:

i went to the dr last week, before the Manling, then me, and now mark have been stricken w/ explosive poo&puke disease, and he told me that my thyroid was back to broken. which is kinda sorta cool bc i am back on the meds, which MAY help alleviate my utter depression and dispair. he said if i don't start to feel significantly better in the next 2-3 weeks, we are going to start talking about anti-depressants. i don't know why, i mean it's not like the meds have kicked in, esp since i puked one day's worth up, but i feel much better already. i think bc there's hope at the end of this dark tunnel. HOWEVER, this also means i'm pretty certain i am not and will not be ovulating until my thyroid has been beaten into submission again. so that's depressing that i have to wait even longer, but gives me a little hope that the thyroid thing might be the only thing wrong with me. we shall see.

i hope you got to listen to the cds (some compilations I made for a friend) by now. i was jamming out to one of them recently. maybe today, as i finally escaped the house of flying puke w/ the Manling and did errands. which was great except i schizzed at every store and then the Manling puked ALL OVER the olive garden. it's been a hella week.

I need to talk about my utter lack of hope prior to this, the Manling's art class, his 2nd birthday (!!!!!), our 5th anniversary (!!!!!), and maybe a few other topics soon.

Wiggle Stick

2007-09-20T17:00:00.000-06:00

I've had lower back pain for the last couple weeks. I have a potentially strange taste in my mouth like I did with the Manling, but no implantation cramps like I did with the Deuce. Maybe the back pains are a kidney infection. My period is 3 days late, IF I can rely on a 27 day cycle. Do I pee on a stick and find out when I start bleeding in a day or so, or do I start bleeding in a day or so and not know I was pregnant? Am I pregnant? Would I stay pregnant? One thing for sure is I'm definitely off my rocker about this.

I went to see a newborn 2nd-child the other day. She was hard to see since she was conceived by accident last fall. Then I went to my first baby shower since this stuff happened, and I had a pretty good time. This baby was also an accident, and extremely: the couple had only been dating about a month or so. I can't blame them.

I think I will break down and buy some tests tomorrow, but I don't want to end up with just a collection of slowly-fading positives which are my only proof that the Deuce actually existed, albeit for a little bit. A negative would be better than that. The irony is that one of my cousins is getting married in the summer, and I really want to go to this wedding. If I am pregnant and stay pregnant, I won't be able to fly out there for it.

Learn How To Knit

2007-09-03T10:21:00.001-06:00

It gets better, sometime, right?

My parked car got hit by a lady swerving to avoid someone else who ran a stop sign a few weeks ago. Her insurance company isn't paying for the damages because she didn't cause the accident. There were 2 recent births and 1 second pregnancy announcement from my friends in the last 2 weeks. Someone under the age of 2 has stopped sleeping through the night. No matter where I am in my menstrual cycle, I feel depressed, irritable, and on edge, and without provocation.

On the upside, my brother-in-law, Grant, came to visit for a few days and we had a pretty good time. We saw the Railbender's play outside at Stapleton, or rather heard them since we were hidden behind a kiosk, while we ate some frou-frou mexican and got blasted on margaritas. Then we went to Lora's pirate-themed 30th birthday party. We ate sushi with Danea, Jason, and Ralph the next night. Mark and Grant went to Water World, and the 4 of us went to Mt Evans where we nearly got into an altercation with a very rude Park Service man (can you believe it?) over the semantics of the "no use" non-fee; apparently if you don't pay, you can't even slow down (not stop) to take a picture, nor can you go around the loop at the top of the road more than once. So he stopped us, gave us some grief and an envelope saying we were using the area and must pay the fee. I'm not above paying the fee, but we weren't exactly using the area. But since he was making us pay, we stopped and climbed to the top, including the Manling. So he and I now have the same number of fourteeners under our belt. The Manling has a very endearing habit lately where he sees a rock, names it , distinctly "ROCK!!", and outs it in his pocket. He will soon have a collection like mine.

We're hearing a lot more speech lately, and I'm starting to think about doing some more potty training. He's more prone to notice he's wet if he's wearing the Bummi's training pants than the Fuzzi Bunz dipes, but not consistently. I'm not pushing it in any way, but am trying to be more consistent myself in getting him to the potty.

I am still working on the Teva Durham Ragmuffin sweater for the Manling, but I am stuck at the neck. I grafted both shoulders instead of only the one, so now I am forced to do the neck on circular needles, which would be ok except I only have 40" needles AND until yesterday I didn't know how to translate pattern-speak from straight to circular. But for my first sweater, and only my 2nd knit piece ever, I think I'm doing alright. I'm not a masochist though: I did omit the patch motif from the pattern - that would have made me nuts. I went to some yarn stores this weekend to take advantage of Labor Day sales and scored some good stuff. I got some orange alpaca for the Manling's next sweater; some variegated black wool to make myself a killer scarf and mitten set or maybe something else; and I found and ordered the alpaca that I will use to make MY first sweater, once again a Teva Durham design, the slinky rib bark tunic which I will be lopping several inches off of. That Loop-D-Loop book is the best! That and Knitting Nature are the reasons I learned how to knit.

I'm hoping that since my summer went to crap on Memorial day that it will stop sucking today, on Labor Day.

These Dreams Are Dark

2007-08-15T08:56:00.000-06:00

I forgot to mention a critical milestone for the Manling in my last post: in late July, he was just starting to jump, with one foot at a time leaving the ground. He's gotten extraordinarily better since then, and has now started jumping with both feet off the ground. He looks like he might be an amazing ollie-er. More words including "pees" please also have been added, but thank goodness for the signing or I wouldn't now what to interpret!

Friday and yesterday, we went to see some great shows: Harry and the Potters with Draco and the Malfoys at the Denver and Boulder Library sponsored shows. The little man and Mark had a blast at each one, and the Manling actually kept his earplugs in the whole time without complaint. Between songs, the Manling would sign "more music" which I thought was great.

On the fertility fronmt, this has been the second month in a row where I haven't had any spinn, but my temps have spiked, so I'm assuming I've ovulated. I didn't make any concerted effort to try; still trying to get over my grief, and fear that I'll miscarry again. And there's been 2 recent pregnancy announcements amongst family and friends which have been debilitating blows. I need to pull myself together a little more.

Friends Back East

2007-07-27T22:38:00.001-06:00

Where to begin...

The Manling is now 21.5 months old. Starting from the beginning of this month, he has really been incorporating more speech into his communication, along with his signs. He says "kees" keys, "gaaa" grapes, "baabaah" Pepper, Daddeee but still only the very rare "mahmah", "deedee" penis, dee!!! plane, "cay" cage, "no". and possible a few others. He is still learning more signs, though at a much slower rate since we are not going to sign class anymore.

Also starting at the beginning of this month, has come the tantrums and frustrations that typically start around this time. Sometimes it's been a challenge not to freak out back when he's being totally irrational. but since I know what it's like to be irrational since I had a wicked case of PMS this week, i try to cut him some slack. I have been trying to help him out with what I can, and if it continues, then telling him he can go freak out in his room and come out when he's done. Nothing really is consistent though.

He also finally outgrew the size medium Fuzzi Bunz. 17 months was a great run, and he's nowhere even close to needing the size large waist, but his height means he's way too tall for the medium's rise. He's such a bean pole like me, but eats everything like his dad. He has such a funny sense of humor, too, and if I updated this regularly, perhaps I'd have some examples for you.

I taught myself to knit this month, which was difficult. I started out trying to learn to throw continental, but couldn't get the hang out it, so I went to Posh, my LYS, where they told me I was twisting every.single.one of my stitches, and I couldn't get anyone to show me how to purl continental, so I switched to english style. My mom gave me some pointers, and I started making a basic rectangle in stockinette which I then felted and it's to go under our plants and fishtank to absorb spills. Probably about 6" through that, I knew enough about the anatomy of the stitches that I decided to try continental again and voila! I can do it! I'm so excited! I can't wait to make my first sweater, but I need more practice: I have yet to increase or decrease or do anything besides stockinette. I was going to take a class, but.....

The main reason I haven't updated in quite some time is because this month something terrible happened. On the 4th of July, my lovely and talented friend Jackie was killed in a car accident. She had moved to California last fall to go to grad school for acting, and she decided to go to Vegas for the holiday with one of her friends from school. On the way home, the driver, her friend, hit the median, and the car flipped over, and Jackie was killed.

She was supposed to come visit here for a few days this month, too.

The Manling and I went back east for the funeral. I first stayed a few days with Joe and Christine who showed the kid and I a good time and were more than accommodating of our needs. It was about time I had visited them since they come out here all the time. They live in a suburb right outside of Baltimore, which despite its reputation looked to be a cool city.

We handed off the Manling to my parents en route to Gettysburg for the funeral events. The viewing was especially hard. She had been dead for 9 days by this point and maybe it was that or maybe because she didn't have any eyeliner or makeup or jewelry on, and she was wearing a sedate looking baby blue twin set, but it didn't look like Jackie; she looked like a 50-year old matron. A whole bunch of our college friends came to the funeral, so there was some drinking, a lot of melancholy, and a lot of reminiscing. I tried to stay positive and have a good time since I hadn't seen some of these people in years, and it made me realize how much I miss my friends. Plus I knew Jackie would've wanted us to enjoy it, or at least that's what I would want in the same situation. The funeral the next day was equally rough.

Since I am still grieving, although it's not quite as immediate or sharp anymore, I think I handled Jackie's death without too much freaking out. This has just extended my time of sadness and introspection. I can't quite articulate it; I just feel like the loss of my baby so recently put me into grief-mode where I could "easily" shift into grieving for another. But man it sucks. Once again I had to think about the now cut-off opportunities that Jackie will never have. I completely lost it talking to her mom at the viewing. I had never met her before and all I could say was that I was so sorry; as a mom as well I was just so sorry. Then I broke down and cried heavily for the first time. I can't imagine losing a child. I lost a child-to-be, and that was hard, but a living child must be so much harder. I'm crying now just thinking about it.

I spent a few days after that visiting my parents. I was in PA for my birthday. A whole bunch of the Vidalia's clan went to Knoebel's Grove that day, a family-run family-oriented small amusement park. That was the first time the Manling has been on any rides. He looooooved it. I wish Mark could have been there to see it all, but he had to stay here that week. We went to see Mark's aunt and uncle at the hatchery. His aunt just got diagnosed with scleroderma, which was what my step-sister-in-law died from.

We finally got home and I tried to relax for 2 days, then Mark was off to Vegas for 3 days. He claims not to have enjoyed Vegas without us there but I don't know if I entirely believe him. He got back, and we went camping with Pepper and the Manling. We went to this great campground in the Pike National Forest near Fairplay. I needed to get out of the million-degree heat we've been having all summer, and it was nice to see some greenery and wide open vistas.

My trip back east led me to really appreciate my friends and family more. I am more receptive to moving back there when the time comes. It's just not been a happy summer.

The Funeral Party

2007-06-21T16:30:00.000-06:00

When I went to the doctor last Tuesday, he said I only needed to do a thyroid test and a beta hcg test; no ultrasound because there wasn't really any point to one. He told me to come back in 8-12 weeks if I wasn't pregnant by then. My test results came back the next day and my beta hcg was I believe close to non-detectable, much as I had expected, but my TSH is back up to 5.4. The upper limit of normal is 5.5, so I wonder what it will be the next time. I have noticed how quiet and depressed and sluggish I am feeling lately, I'm sure primarily due to the miscarriage, but maybe exascerbated by the hypothyroidism I'm heading towards.

This past weekend we had a rather large bbq and Mark had a great time. I drank a little but not enough to not feel sad at the 1 pregnancy, 2 babies, and 10 toddlers/preschoolers we had over. I had no idea we knew so many kids. I managed to tell 3 of my friends about the miscarriage so far. Only the one who has had 2 miscarriages herself hasn't said anything stupid or unknowingly hurtful, and I didn't really get a chance to talk to her about how she got over them.

I was only able today to get around to taking down the pregnancy ticker I had posted here. It sucked having to do so.

Then on Father's Day I ended up getting into yet another screaming fit w/ my dad, culminating with me telling him fuck you and hanging up. It hasn't been a very good couple of weeks around here.

The Manling is getting into mischief and I should probably go figure out what it is.

White Lines

2007-06-11T17:00:00.000-06:00

I took a 6th and final hpt on Saturday, which came out with one solid line and the other area so barren (hah) that I knew there was no chance that I was still pregnant. Oddly, I've felt better (used loosely) since seeing it; almost as if my psyche can deal better with no chance than a slim chance. I go to the doctor tomorrow still. I wonder what he will say.

I keep feeling depressed about this miscarriage. I'm fairly certain that nothing I did caused it, but I still have those black whispers running through my brain that something I did made it happen. Like I'd get frustrated with the Manling or think how I'd never be able to handle 2 kids and the self-incrimination says that I deserve another baby. It's truly the worst thing I've ever felt.

And I feel numb half the time; I haven't cried more than a few tears at a time. I feel deflated and limp. I have been not a great mom to the Manling either. I let him do anything around the house while I laid on the counch and watched the entire Roots miniseries. Luckily my friend Dara made me get out of the house a few days; she's the only local person who knows.

Mark had been planning a big party this Saturday on the same day as our local street fair, and I told him we could still have it. I'm less depressed when I'm staying busy, and maybe I'll get hammered to dull the pain (it's amazing how I feel so much pain yet feel so numb). I want to tell my friends, not to get sympathy but just to acknowledge that I was pregnant and this child-that-wasn't means something to me. But what do you say? What's new? Oh, I had a miscarriage. I'm sure that would go over like a lead balloon. I read that grief for a miscarriage is one of the hardest things to be acknowledged by society because what was lost was so internal and unnoticed. The possibilities lost are what is tearing me up. It plain sucks.

In Sadding Around

2007-06-08T14:41:00.000-06:00

I go see the doctor on Tuesday for what I'm guess will be bloodwork for my thyroid as well as beta hcg numbers, and then perhaps an ultrasound. I'm trying to stay positive, that there might be a chance I'm still growing a baby, but nothing this time is similar to my last pregnancy, other than getting a negative test first. Last time I immediately had a weird metallic taste in my mouth, my boobs felt weird, I got morning sickness/nausea around now, and most importantly, no bleeding.

We are finally back home from what Joe called our Bataan Death March rather than a vacation. All in all, I had a really great time, if I completely ignore this miscarriage thing. We spent 2 days on the farm at the hatchery, and we were even there for a hatch. The Manling was unsure what to think of all those baby chickens, then finally decided to hold them, which meant squeezing their necks very hard until they were liberated by one of us. It was really nice to see Mark's aunt and uncle and brother. I know Mark really wants to move back to the farm. I just wish it wasn't so isolated for my immediate daily needs, like friends and libraries etc. The farm is where I first started bleeding; luckily we hadn't told anyone that I was pregnant, but unluckily, I just had to smile and pretend nothing was happening.

We next went to see my parents who graciously took the Manling for the weekend while Mark and I went to visit his brother in Manhattan!!!! Apparently the Manling had a terrific time with his cousins and all of their assorted tractors, four-wheelers, and the like, as well as the toddler-sized car my parents bought for him. They were all amazed at his sign-language, but I think they felt like it is delaying his speech. Speaking of which, the Manling has started vocalizing 10x what he had been over the past few weeks. He's hardly ever quiet now.

New York City was the best! We took the bus there to avoid parking hassles and met up with Grant, Mark's brother. He was able to get us tickets to see the opening night of his ballet. Unfortunately, the part that he switches off with another dancer was danced by that other guy that night, so we only got to see him in 2 smaller roles. It was still awesome though because I had never been to Lincoln Center, and this was a world premiere of the ballet. Before the show we ate at this great Italian restaurant near Times Square which was very reasonably priced, had delicious food, but had an arctic blast of air on us. I thought I was over-reacting until Mark's food came and the steam was literally blown sideways from this blast. Grant lives up in Harlem, and has a terrific studio apartment. Sleeping there was quieter than sleeping here in Denver! The next day we traipsed all over lower Manhattan from Washington Square down to Battery Park. We must've hit over 25 shops and locations I had painstakingly mapped out, from yarn stores to Jack Spade to historical sites to Ground Zero. It was amazing to see so many things. It makes me realize how provincial Denver is for a big city, yet the cleanliness and charm of Denver have a big pull for me. After the performance Saturday night, we met up with Grant and his girlfriend Ashley and then met other ballet dancers as well as one of Mark's friends who just moved from Denver to NYC a few months ago at a bar, where Mark and his friend looked "morbidly obese" as I put it around all these dancers. Even I felt fat. I had 1 beer there to take the edge of my aching legs and my mind off the continued bleeding. The next day the 3 of us went to Rockefeller Center and the MoMA store before getting back on the bus. I was so happy to see the Manling, and even happier to hear he was extraordinarily well-behaved while we were gone.

We spent the next day with my mom because it was her birthday then drove to Harrisburg to see Mark's dad and sister, and her boyfriend. We spent the next day with them and it was probably the most pleasant time I have spent around Mark's dad who usually drives me nuts.

Wednesday we stopped off at IKEA before heading to the airport and then realized we were horribly late for our flight. That is, until we got on the plane and they announced we were going to be delayed due to high winds in Denver. We were delayed about 3 hours total both in Philly as well as on the tarmac in Denver, until we finally got home. The Manling was very well-behaved through-out, luckily.

I must say, each day I appreciate and fall in love with that little guy more and more. Which is kind of making it harder to cope with the lost possibilities that this child would have been like. I really just don't feel pregnant. Deep down I feel like it's over; I want to stay positive but I just can't. This not knowing is killing me, and I'm just very very unhappy.

And in other news, Mark just found out that in the 9 days we were gone on vacation, his big box retailer has fucked him over again: they posted a store manager position, interviewed for it, and filled it. These things never happen this quickly. One of his friends got it, so there's hope he can go to this new store as an assistant and hopefully leave this hellhole he gambled to go to and lost. I know he's feeling very betrayed and angry right now, and I am too. This is yet another hurdle placed in front of our financial stability. And yet another weight on my perilously burdened mental state.

Over?

2007-05-30T13:44:00.001-06:00

I think it's all over. Cramps; bleeding. I want to die but have to keep up a pretense amongst all these relatives that all is well.

Misread

2007-05-24T08:30:00.000-06:00

I was wrong. Fooled again. I must be one of those women who doesn't have a detectable level of hcg in early pregnancy. The Manling's first test also gave a BFN; this time, however, I was convinced that I was not pregnant. But it appears that I am. Happy, happy, joy, joy. Mark claims that he had been surprised the first test was negative, because he was convinced I was pregnant, in part because I've gotten nastily sick again (head cold vs last time was a wicked awful stomach virus.) I was a bit suspicious myself because 2 days after we did the deed, I had weird crampy feelings for 2 full days, which must have been implantation. I don't remember feeling those the last time, but I also wasn't as in tune with my body as I am now. Those 2 days I also had a significant dip in my bbt, and I wondered then what was going on.

I'm about 5 weeks along now (day36 of the cycle), and the only things I have noticed is that my boobs don't hurt, but I do have a weird sensation (not cramps, not pain, just different) down below. I haven't gotten the metallicy taste in my mouth like last time either, although I can't really taste anything currently which I blame being sick for. I'm also getting tired at night fairly early (10-11pm vs normally 12-1).

I'm so looking forward to our vacation, and going to NYC. I don't think I'm going to tell my mom, or many people (if any) because it is so early and I know that thyroid issues often lead to miscarriage if your TSH is not between 1-2. Sadly, mine is not. I am waiting until after we get back from vacation to schedule a doctor appointment. I need to go in for more bloodwork around June 15th, and my doctor had said at my last appointment that if I was pregnant (which I was!) that it would be ok to wait until then to do the bloodwork. So hopefully nothing is wrong, I'll still be pregnant, and my thyroid will be working. I am crossing every appendage that I have.

In other news, we decided to keep Pepper and get her some shock-collar training. We are having a consultation with some trainers when we get from vacation.

And a request for any readers I may have: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT COMMENT ON MY MYSPACE PAGE ABOUT MY NEWS. My mom and Luanne both check it and I don't want them to know yet.

No Home, No Place To Pillow My Head

2007-05-18T20:30:00.000-06:00

CD28 was yesterday and I decided to take a test, which would make me around 10+ days past ovulation. It was negative. I didn't use my First morning urine though, so there is a slight glimmer of hope, combined with me remembering that the first test I took with the Manling was also negative. Back then I wasn't charting, looking at cervical mucus or anything back then so it was a crap shoot. I just thought it was time. Luckily, we had hit the jackpot. This time I doubt it. I think I will just wait until the bleeding begins. What really annoys me, besides not being pregnant, is that although I can go whoop it up in NYC on our vacation, my prime fertile days will most likely also occur during the vacation.

We still haven't found a home for Pepper, although Mark says his friend's friend is very interested. I hope so. If not, we most likely will be taking her to the local no-kill shelter, but then we'll never know what happens to her. I met with the director who said that being a biter won't be bad for her chances of being adopted but that she can't go to a family with small children. She said that the other shelters in the area will euthanize her due to her biting. I hope this guy works out. He's a single guy who lives with his brother so no kids in the picture. I put up an ad on my local mom's list as well as on cr.aigslist and from the latter I have gotten 2 hater emails saying that it's all the Manling's fault. I hope those people burn in a towering inferno here on earth. Seriously, I hate people like that.

I also picked up a sinus infection yesterday and feel completely gross today. Despite using the generic suda.phed and the lotion-y tissues, my snot keeps pouring out and my nose is bright red.

The only positive thing in the last few days is that I found, bought, and received this awesome swallow necklace from Etsy. It's 2 lucite swallows connected at the beak hanging from a basic black cord. I love it. I love the one- or few-of-a-kind things you can find on there. A few months ago I bought this rad shirt showing a tattoo-flash devil woman breastfeeding.

Mother Heroic

2007-05-13T15:15:00.000-06:00

I haven't been spending as much time on-line anymore. The warming spring weather and the antics of the Manling have kept me busy, and mentally and emotionally I've been feeling better.

There has been absolutely no progress on finding a new home for the dog. The longer she's with us I know it will be harder to maintain the will to give her away, but the thought of an unblemished Manling keeps the search going. We're facing up to potentially relinquishing her to a shelter, so I've started loking into local no-kill shelters. I want to make sure that her toys, bones, bed, crate, etc go with her to her new home but i don't know how logistically that works.

The Manling is a mischievous, fun-loving kid. He's sleeping regularly again, with middle of the night awakenings happening only 1-2x a week. He's still not talking very much, but has over 75 signs, and will make 2-3 sign sentences. He is big into categorizing things by shape, color, sound, gender, age, or unknown categories. We started instituting time outs in the last month as he had a biting problem, but within a few days that was addressed. Now we use them when he's really nuts, but generally he's well behaved unless he's hungry or tired or over-stimulated. We've been taking him to the playground a lot and he loves to climb up on the equipment, but unlike most other kids his age, he won't sit down to go down the slide by himself. Once you start him, he loves it, though. I can't remember when he started imaginative play like feeding his baby (a small bear) or putting his frog on his potty but I think it was in April. He loves to help us do projects; he will dig or sweep or rake in the garden/backyard, and he really likes to help Mark use tools. Anything needed to have a screwdriver applied to it, he's your Manling!

I went back to the doctor last week and got my new thyroid numbers. My T$ number I have forgotten to look at, but my TSH was at .05, which is more hyperthyroidic than last time despite the lowered dosage. My doctor said I should go off of the meds and we talked a lot about cervical mucus and ovulation, both of which I think I'm getting/doing. I of course forgot to bring my charts with me. I definitely am feeling more awake and less fatigued, but my hearing is still shot. He said I must start using nasal irrigation to try to unclog that duct. I haven't started, but I really would like to hear again.

I'm nearing the end of a 2ww, but am refusing to pee on a stick until Tuesday which will bring me up to 14 days. I'm not very optimistic about the results being positive, but there is a small chance we'll see the double lines.

People are starting to deliver the babies that got pregnant when I started trying. Others are just starting to be obviously pregnant. It's very frustrating. I'm so happy to have one totally rad little boy though. He makes me feel so great everyday, not just today on Mother's Day.

Feel the Bite//I'll Take New York

2007-04-26T16:30:00.000-06:00

Two Saturdays ago, the Manling and Pepper got into a fight. The Manling chased or followed Pepper under the dining room table, which is at bar height, and tormented the dog, whether by pulling her tail or tugging or fur or perhaps even just hugging her. I didn't see that part. I was alerted to the situation when I heard Pepper go into fight/bite mode. I threw one of the chairs across the room and found the Manling bleeding and Pepper skulking. Luckily, Mark was on his way home from work, so I rinsed off what blood I could, and got the Manling ready to go to the Urgent Care facility.

There, they cleaned him up better, and staunched the bleeding. Net result: 1 perfectly circular bite mark on his left temple with a particularly deep puncture, 2 bleeding areas above his left ear, and one large gash in the same area which required 2 staples. Mark got to hold the Manling down for that procedure; it seems as though that took a few years off of Mark's life staring into his bleeding, screaming toddler's face. I was in the room but stayed out of the way of the nurse and doctor. It was so heart-wrenching.

They prescribed antibiotics which we duly picked up and went home, where Pepper and the Manling both acted as if nothing had happened. Mark and I of course, scarred for life, but the principle actors just went along their way blithely, the little jerks. By Thursday, the temple bite was still very red and inflamed so off we went to our regular doctor's office. He said that it was infected so we got prescribed a 2nd antibiotic, but they took out the staples. The Manling was perfectly fine with that.

I am glad we had the Urgent Care option available (vs. an ER visit), so the Manling wouldn't associate our regular doctors and nurses with the staple incident. The Urgent care staff were great: professional and kind, but they said that there was only a 10% chance of infection, which we unluckily happened to fall in to, and that the staples would have to stay in for 10 days, rather than the 5 my doctor said. I just have a bad feeling associated with that place and I hope we never have to go back.

We have decided reluctantly to get rid of Pepper. This is the 2nd time she has bitten the Manling, albeit after being provoked by him, and we just can't risk another bite. I never thought I cared so much for her as I do. She's 3 now, out of her puppy stage, getting mellower and more well-behaved as time goes. I just wouldn't be able to live with myself if something else happened between her and the Manling. We don't know of anyone who will take her though, so I'm carefully watching the 2 of them and keeping them separated as much as possible. It's very sad.

I got my period on day 27 of the cycle. That is 9 days shorter than the first time. I know I can't expect to be regular after coming off of breastfeeding and those 3 months of the pill, but I'm a bit aggravated nonetheless.

The end of May we are tentatively planning a trip back east. We'd spend a few days each with Mark's uncle and dad, and then a few with my mom before heading off sans kid to NYC to vist Mark's brother in Manhattan. I am so excited. I truly cannot wait to have some alone/fun/vacation time with Mark. I will miss the Manling terribly, and this will be the first time he is away from both of us, but I can hoping everything will go okay. there are so many things I want to go see and do in Manhattan, and I believe Mark's brother might get us tickets to see him dance in The Sleeping Beauty at the Met. If this falls through in any way I am going to be devastated.

Do the Hippogrif

2007-04-13T21:30:00.000-06:00

The Manling's sleeping is going much better these days. We decided to just take off the long side of his crib and use it as a daybed. The fall would still be a little shocking if you were asleep, so we put an under-bed tote next to the crib. It makes it easier for us to slither out from his crib if he needs us to lie there until he falls asleep. Usually he gets drowsy as we read H.arry P.otter and the 'alf-blood P.rince aloud. It took us almost 2-1/2 t=years to get through the previous book, but we are midway through book 6, which we started a month or 2 ago. That author is really entertaining; she deserves every cent of the bazillions of dollars she is getting.

This cycle has turned out to be a loss... again. My temperatures have raised as of about 2-3 days ago, but cervical mucus didn't make an appearance. Actually, on Sunday, Mark and I actually got to go out. By ourselves! To a hockey game, and we actually saw all 3 periods without anyone getting arrested or their teeth knocked out! Mark arranged for his friend Rinaud to babysit the Manling, who apparently was very sweet and well-behaved, so maybe we can trick her, I mean ask her to babysit again.

Anyway, at the game, I thought I had abruptly peed my pants, so I ran to the bathroom. (Delivering a baby really does a number to your nethers, so you never know.) I had some perceptible mucus, but not the egg-white, stretchy spinnbarkeit type mucus so I thought nothing of it. It was gone by the time we got home. I am quite disappointed by the lack of mucus, but the temperature spike must mean I'm ovulating, right? I have about 6 more weeks before I can go bug my doctor about this during the thyroid appointment, and by then I should have another cycle under my belt, no pun intended.

This episode just pointed out that I haven't been using my "spit -o-scope" so I would have missed the ferning anyway. I can't bring myself to do the cervical-position test; I can barely remember to check my mucus before I pee. If I get more vigilant at using the spit-o-scope, charting my temps, and monitoring my cervical mucus, and I'm not pregnant by July, I would like to get a referral to a Reproductive Endocrinologist. I just don't know how long you have to wait before getting the referral since we're working on correcting the thyroid problem, and since I'd be a secondary infertility problem, I hope I don't have to wait a full 12 months. 12 months from when? July 2006 when we started trying? 12 months since I got my first bad thyroid numbers in November 2006? Or 12 months from when my thyroid TSH is back into the 1.0-2.0 range considered conducive for pregnancy... sometime in 2007?????

Until It Sleeps

2007-04-06T22:45:00.000-06:00

I'm not going deaf. I have fluid in my middle ear. I am supposed to do saline irrigation in my nose, and/or take Suda.fed. It may not go away for 3 or so weeks even doing these things; or more to the point, not irrigating. I just can't do that.

Another thing I just can't do is get the Manling to fall asleep on his own. The night before the doctor visit, he decided to houdini himself out of his crib. Luckily, Mark was sleeping on the floor in front of the crib, in another mid-night wake/sleep/lather/repeat session, so he wasn't hurt. We mentioned that to the doctor who said his recommendation is to move a toddler to a bed, whether it be toddler or regular, immediately, to prevent injuries or broken bones. We have been looking for a method to keep our sanity as well as the Manling safe. We bought a bedrail, and took off one long side of his crib, but the box says it's NOT for use with a crib. We've tried the mattress on the floor, but he just won't go to sleep on it. There is something security-wise for him about the crib, I think. I'm going crazy trying to get him to go to sleep and allow me to leave the room without him waking up and crying. I know this too will pass, but it's a very difficult stage.

More later about my shark-boy.

Telltale Signs/Stop Me If You Think You've Heard This One Before

2007-04-02T23:30:00.000-06:00

The Manling is in his "sign explosion" where he is learning about a million new signs a day. Seriously, he learned about 10-15 signs last week, including "mama" finally. He's also adding a few words, not "mama," of course. We go to his 18mo well-child visit tomorrow so I'll see what the doctor has to say about his development.

I've been reading up on the Billings Method of monitoring ovulation, as well as reading Taking Charge of Your Fertility by Toni Weschler. Hopefully I can determine exactly when (if) I ovulate this month. My calculations would put a delivery right after the solstice or near New Years. Perhaps do-able, no pun intended.

In other news on the medical front, I swear that I have lost a drastic amount of hearing in my right ear. It has been ringing for a few months, but I thought it was perhaps related to thyroid stuff of the jaw problem. (Man, I am falling apart!) I have a noticeable loss of hearing when talking on the phone and if I have my back turned to someone, it's difficult to distinguish what they are saying. I'm going to ask the doctor tomorrow who gives hearing tests and whether I should schedule it for my next blood draw or what. Too many loud shows, I guess.

I'm not a hypochondriac; all of my medical problems have causes. The good news is that I have been feeling a lot more positive and up-beat lately.

Bloodied Up

2007-03-24T20:45:00.000-06:00

Today was a great day!

Hyper-ballad

2007-03-23T20:30:00.000-06:00

Finally, some good news. Tuesday was the doctor's visit to go over my test results. at first my doc said that my TSH was 10.1. I couldn't believe that it would be exactly the same as it was 8 weeks ago so when he said my previous test was a 7-something, I made him check the dates. Sure enough, he didn't have the newest results on top. After all the suspense, my TSH is now a measly 0.1!! My thyroid is definitely reacting to the levothyroxine. Unfortunately, it's nothing I have noticed. My dosage got adjusted to 75 units a day since I am currently in the hyper-thyroidism range, and the best part is I get to take purple pills instead of the ghastly yellow ones. (I don't know what it is about the color yellow but I definitely hate it.) The doc says that this dosage may be the one I need, or else 50 or 88 units to get me into the therapeutic range, which reminds me: I forgot to ask what range he'd like my thyroid to be in. I hope this is the one so I can start feeling less exhausted and cold (spring coming rapidly should help the latter) and most importantly, I can ovulate.

We discussed my apparent lack of ovulation, the temperature charting, the weaning, and how I probably will not get a period this month. He said that he feels that my anovulation is thyroid-related. You think? I certainly hope so since it seems to be an easy fix. He also said that going back on the pill would probably just confuse my hormones, and since being on it makes me a little crazy, that's alright with me. It looks as though April will not be the month I get pregnant. The game is on until July before I get super depressed again. I'm just very excited that there is some hope glimmering!

The Manling has added "work," "help," and perhaps "pasta" and "dancing" to his signing repertoire. And one of his top fangs has broken through his gums with the other soon to follow. It's amazing to see how fast he is growing and learning. Wanting another child is making me really appreciate every moment of his development just on the off-chance it never happens again. He's so rad!

A Few Minutes On Friday

2007-03-16T21:16:00.000-06:00

The Manling has been transfixed by the diggers tearing up the street in front of our house this month. The water mains are being replaced, and the spot that sprung a leak was directly in front of his window. Heaven for this little boy. I got him Big Machines 2 from the library and we watched the segment on recycling and garbage removal; hopefully that will keep him occupied through the weekend until the guys get back to work. His other recent obsession, and I do mean obsession, are the liner notes and instruction guides in CDs and X.box games. He has added "book" to his repertoire of signs from these, but he does also sign that for real books. Other signs he's learned in the last few days are hot, gorilla, balloon, and perhaps monkey. I think he's in his sign "explosion" that the signing class lady has been talking about.

I am on day 27 or so of this cycle, and have been extremely emotional and irritable for the past few days. I can't wait to start bleeding so i can start my next cycle. I desparately want to get pregnant in April and this cycle and the next are obviously my shot at that. I go for my bloodwork results on Tuesday.

I've spent a few hours this week with moms with babies or pregnant moms. It hurts my heart to see some of these people getting pregnant and delivering babies pretty much the whole time I've been getting geared up for #2. And the blogosphere is chock full of pregnancies these days.

Orange Rolls, Angel's Spit

2007-03-07T21:21:00.000-07:00

I'm still tired. I am on my 6th week or so of the thyroid meds. I'm not dying of thirst anymore though, though I seem to still be peeing more. Aah, the life I lead: so exciting.

My friend Joe from Baltimore visited twice in the last 6 weeks or so. His wife Christine came along this last time which was great because I hadn't seen her since last January. I really enjoy spending time with them and hope they move out here soon. Plus I hope they have kids soon so I can spoil them and teach them bad habits (cough cough). I think it may be one or the other though.

Speaking of having kids soon; this month I haven't been on the pill, I started charting my temperature, I use the saliva microscope, and I'm pretty sure I've not ovulated on this, day 19 of my cycle. The temping is pretty hard to get a handle on. I wasn't aware that you need to take your temp at pretty much the same time every day or it can vary tremendously, until my friend Sarah let me in on that secret. It's also hard to get an accurate reading when your toddler is teething and wakes up in the middle of the night. the ovulation spit-scope, as I call it, is much easier... idiot-proof one might say. I just wish I would see the tell-tale ferning pattern but it's a small little slide to look at. I get so depressed when I see no ferns. I haven't been paying attention to cervical mucous, which will be added to my repertoire next month. Libido is still negligible.

The Manling never ceases to amaze me. He is now 17 months of pure joy. He's got a great sense of humour. I don't think I did a 16mo recap. The signing class has been great to learn not only signs but ways to incorporate them into our lives, and more importantly, how to recognize his versions of them. He signs: cat, light, fan, milk, more, all done, cracker, cookie, cheese, drink/cup, giraffe, ball, shoes, cold, and perhaps a few others. He puts together 2 word sentences involving more + whatever it is he wants, which he did last month at 16 months. The sign class instructor says that non-signing kids don't usually say sentences of 2 or more words until about 20-24 months. I really like using signs to figure out what it is he wants before he breaks down into frustration because I don't understand.

Verbally, he has added woof woof, grr (bear sound), roar(dinosaur sound), meow (or his version of it), digger (the water department is replacing pipes in front of our house - sheer heaven for this little boy), and perhaps a few others as well. I wasn't planning to blog tonight but Mark is at the Sick of It All//Dropkick Murphys concert tonight unexpectedly.

He still loves to throw balls, and has started to kick one occasionally. He likes to look at animals at the zoo, and loves loves loves to look through books. I hope he continues to be amused by reading. He will walk along beside the stroller but doesn't like to hold mommy or daddy's hands. Mark had been adamant about not using a leash but he is starting to agree with me that a backpack type leash may be a good thing.

We haven't gotten his haircut yet. It is very short in the front but in the back it is getting long, much like a mullet. I think it is cute, and I don't want to cut his hair until he is much older. He'll be bald soon enough.

Mark specifically said he wants another child and soon recently. I was so surprised that he told me that out of the blue one day; I thought it was mostly me that was ready for another child. It defies any attempt to put into words how much I love the Manling and to describe how happy he has made me. I only hope we can provide him with a sibling soon. 2007 looks to be a wash.

Hungry Like the Wolf

2007-02-16T21:00:00.000-07:00

Has it really been almost a month?

My Tsh turned out to be 10.7, with a free t4 of 1.02ng/dL, so my thyroid got worse and the T4 was normal. My doctor expressed a hesitancy to treat my thyroid. (By the way, in December of 2005 when I had my TSH done it was normal at 2.11) I let him know that getting pregnant was a high priority for me, and that since he told me it could take 3-4 months until I started feeling better if we started treatment, that I wanted to start treatment now. So he begrudgingly (at least that's how I perceived it - he wanted to wait another 2 months and retest me again) prescribed me generic thyroid medicine of 100 units daily. From what I've read, that's pretty high for a starting dose, but I go back 8 weeks after starting treatment to redo the bloodtests and I assume I will be adjusted then if needed.

He also told me in no uncertain terms that I need to quit breastfeeding. The Manling seems to be kind of weaning himself lately, so that might turn out to be in the works; there's no way I'm going to force it. He's been skipping some nursing sessions entirely, and other sessions he just wants to nurse for a few minutes (less than 10, I believe) before deciding to look at books or out the window before falling asleep. In a way, I am very pleased to have my body back to myself, but in another I will really miss the total bonding experience.

I decided to wait to start my thyroid medication until the Monday after the first weekend Joe came to visit us. He, Davey, and I went to the Streets of London one night, taking 2 hellacious cab rides (I hate cabs) and resulting in me drinking not 1, not 2, but 3 Long Beach Ice Teas and having a resulting internal implosions and explosions from 4am until 11am. I had a great time though; it was nice to go out with friends and have a not rediculous time and just talk and bully the jukebox and not worry about the Manling, who was at home with Mark.

The thyroid medicine hasn't seemed to have any adverse effects, after 2 weeks of taking it. The thing that sucks is that you are supposed to take it in the AM, on an empty stomach, and then wait 309-60 minutes before eating. So I wake up, stumble out of bed to pee, take the pill while I'm in the bathroom, get the Manling up, and then try to remember to take the thyroid pill before I get him breakfast, or else I have to take it after his brekfast and wait for what seems like forever until I can finally eat. The only things I've noticed is that I seem to be thirstier, hungrier, I pee more often, and I've been feeling exceptionally cold lately.

I've had a few playdates with Dara and her son DuranDuran, and I've decided I really like them. I think they like me too. I even bit the bullet and met some other moms at a HighlandsM.ommies playgroup Moms Night out and took her with me. It was pretty cool. It was at this bar that I hated and I sat next to a mom I had met before who didn't really talk to me that time, nor this time either, and by Dara, of course, and the last person at my end of the table was Mary who was in my birthclass oddly enough. I didn't really get a chance to talk to the 2 moms I didn't know, now Layla who I've met 3 times now, but I really had a good time. Maybe I can be a little more extroverted this year?

I think that's all I can write about now, though I do have more cactching up to do.

This Is Only A Test

2007-01-18T15:30:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I have really insensitive friends. I just wrote a lengthy email to my collge friends about my issues trying to get knocked up again (I refuse to say T*T*C)and how it's been bothering me. I got a really insensitive email back from one of them. I think it's bloodfeud time. I'm not saying insensitive like "maybe you should just relax," although I got an email like that too. I mean insensitive like:

"Blah blah blah blah BABY blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah HORMONE blah blah blah blah blah blah MENOPAUSE blah blah blah blah blah blah BABY blah blah blah blah blah blah THE MANLING blah blah blah blah blah blah BABY blah blah blah blah blah blah BABY blah blah.

What language are you speaking?"

I'm pretty furious about this.

Yesterday the Manling and I woke up and the crack of rush hour to go get blood drawn. Mark agreed to come, and of course he dawdled as usual so as usual I blew up since I HATE being late and I had so much damn anxiety about the impending test. The Manling was being tested for elevated lead levels, which I had wanted to do after the window installation, but that didn't happen since big home improvement retailers ordered the wrong ones. (And of course we had the area's longest coldest arctic-wintry-blizzardy spell in at least the 7 years I've lived here but that's another story...) The Manling did better than I did while having his blood drawn. He really is such a great trooper.

I donated a huge vial of blood and will be getting my TSH retested as well as Free T4 this time. I kind of wanted to get my prolactin level done too, but I forgot to negotiate that when the harpoon was right there in front of me. Results next Thursday. I thought I wasn't so worried that the results would be bad, but i am. Oh, I am.

Good news though: this month (2nd month on the Pill) I have not had any mid-cycle bleeding. I was completely insane though at the end of week 2, beginning of week 3 of the active pills. I thought I was seriously going to murder Mark. Poor guy. Neither one of us realized until mid-awful-fight-over-nothing that it was the hormones, but once I pointed that out, it took the edge off everything.

TV Movie

2007-01-13T19:45:00.000-07:00

Ok, to play catch up:

First, i realize I've been a bit remiss in doing a monthly recap for the Manling. The 20-degrees-below-normal weather including snow has really thrown me into a pit of depair and general despondency. That's not his fault though. Since the last recap for 14 months 6 weeks ago, he has become an absolute cham-peen walker. He hasn't quite figured out running; the day he learns to sprint I think I will just give up and start smoking cigarettes by the carton and eating nothing but lard-chips because at that point I seriously will not be able to keep up. He has experimented with walking backwards, and in circles, sometimes both concurrently. It's pretty funny to see him learn to use his body.

He's really become a lot more interested in using a spoon or fork while eating. Food on the utensil have to be pretty viscous though, because he likes to stare at it for a while before it slowly makes it way to his mouth. Notice I did not say into his mouth - that happens maybe 1 for 4.

We have slowly had a decrease in the amount of hitting. Before anyone calls child services on me, it's him hitting me, not vice versa. I have shown him the ASL for "hurt" and when he whacks me, I make the sign, point to the afflicted area, and pretend to cry or at least look very upset. He will come over and let me kiss him. The beginning of empathy is there, but he just doen't get it yet. Another fun activity which can bring out the hurt sign is throwing. Anything portable becomes a projectile missile. The boy has an arm on him that just won't quit. Mark keeps making jokes that he will be a multi-millionaire pitcher or a quarterback and asks if that will be acceptable. I can only shake my head. My worst career nightmare. Besides maybe drugdealer and the like.

We start Signing Smart classes on Tuesday evenings this coming week. I'm really excited, and I think Mark can come too, so we'll all be on the same page. Which reminds me: the Manling has learned (finally) how to do the sign for "milk" (I call it "nurse"). It's awesome. He gets this huge grin on his face and throws it at me like a gang sign when he's getting tired or exceptionally cranky. He's been doing that for about 2 weeks now, and in the last few days has started doing it with both hands. Mark thinks it's hysterical, especially since his grin gives you the impression he's saying something like hey, who can deny a face like this.

The National Western Stock show on Tuesday was a blast. Rather like entering another dimension, however. We walked around exhibits for what seemed like forever, and didn't even get to see much of the livestock. We took the Manling into a petting zoo that had ducks, pigs, a donley, sheep, and 2 llamas. The Manling and I entered first while Mark paid $2 for a cake-cone full of feed. As he navigated the series of gates and doors and pulled out the camera, several goats jumped up on him trying to get to the feed while one of the llamas, who kinda resembled Falkor the Luckdragon from the Neverending Story. It was pretty funny and I was quite pleased that I had the foresight to make Mark get the feed and not me.

As to the fore*skin reference I made in the last post, a few nights ago when I was changing the Manling's diaper, I saw that his fore*skin was extremely red and inflamed. As my doctor pointed out the next day when I took him to be checked out, the p*enis is a wonderful thing and constructed to balloon precisely in that manner for erec*tions. (Asterisks to reduce my Google hits) Mark got the fine duty to buy some vag*inal yeast infection/antifungal cream by himself, and now the little dude is back to regular size. Since he is intact, we do see the occasional redness as the smeg*ma builds up, but this time it was scarily huge. I'm just glad he's okay. And that my doctor didnt tell us to get immediately to the ER when I had called the night before, and an emergency ritual gen*ital mutilation was averted.

Man, finding an appropriate song title post is going to be hard!

Lastly, tonight was one of the rare occasions that a movie made me cry. I have to confess I was watching a Lifetime movie, Mom at Sixteen. The story deals with a teenaged single mom (duh), her mother, her teachers who are suffering from infertility (IVF and adoption are both heavily covered), and how she ends up having an open adoption with those teachers. The end shows her son at age 5 who says something like my birth mom knows how much I love her because "I'm the only one who knows what her heart sounds like from the inside." I don't know what it was, but that made me bawl and bawl.

Ah ha! And that embarassing confession gives me my title: TV Movie by Pulp.

High Expectation

2007-01-11T22:32:00.000-07:00

I hate hate hate when I set my expectations too high. I usually don't, and although Mark says I am really negative and a pessimist, I take a more positive, as it were, look at it: I say that if you expect the worst, if it happens, you are prepared. If it doesn't, you are pleasantly surprised. I would rather be pleasantly surprised.

The visit last week from Dave and Natalie didn't go at all as well as I had planned. A combination of an irrational fear, a sick kid, disrupted sleeping schedules and locations, yet another snowstorm, and possibly a few other things made it just not fun. Not horrible, by any means, but not fun, either.

A few things I think were the biggest issues:

Natalie is 5 months pregnant with their second child. Visibly so. They got pregnant immediately, right as I was initiating Operation #2, so it was painful to be around such a symbol of fecundity.
Being a SAHM, and a fairly self-isolated one at that, I have more or less a series of routines and can go for an entire week hearing only the noise of the library besides Mark and the Manling. Very calm, collected routines. A 2 year old is not any of those things. Plus, with the sickness and the snow, we were pretty much trapped in the house. So I was over-stimulated and had extreme cabin fever since I haven't really been able to get out of the house since mid-December. The Manling, on the other hand, thought having a 2yo around was the.greatest.thing.ever. I think he really learned a lot about how big kids play. I am really excited about that! They were so great together, although the Ninjakid wasn't a big fan of the Manling seizing every toy out of his hands every 2 seconds. The kids were high-energy, non-stop. It was amazing to see, but exhausting.
And lastly, I think because I knew Dave and Natalie pre-kids, I was really nostalgic for the old days when we would just be stupid and drink too much. That obviously didn't happen.

I had some other things to say about stuff since they left, like going to the Stock Show, and losing our camera, and foreskins, but I'll get to those later; I have to go eat something before I fall off of my desk. I will just say I am really quite pleased with myself: last night Luanne et al came over, and I didn't make even one single comment about the asinine things she does. Very hard to restrain myself, but I did it! I diidn't make any 2007 resolutions, so maybe I will be a kinder, gentler person this year. Yeah, right.

New Year's Day

2007-01-01T15:00:00.000-07:00

I'm not going to pretend last night was the most fun I've ever had on NYE, but honestly, it came pretty close. We went to a little-kids-welcome-too party at Kurt and Renee's house, and got home by 11:15pm. We watched the replay of the Dick-older-than-dirt-Clark NYE celebratiion at Times Square and a bit of the Vegas celebration. Maybe next year we'll do that. It looks a hell of a lot warmer. I always have these great expectations for NYE, and this year I didn't make any; I think that's why I'm pleasantly surprised at how good low-key felt.

The year ended with one last slap in the face for us. Our neighbors backed into Mark's car as they were parking, putting a hole in the bumper. I swear, this car is just a magnet for destruction. No wonder Mark hates it. They left us a note today. It didn't look like there was any damage until Mark swept more of the caked on snow off the bumper. Hopefully this won't lead to a blood-feud between us, since we finally just met the neighbors this summer after nearly 2 years of them living there!

I am really excited about Dave and Natalie coming this week. Natalie said she wouldn't mind hearing, "Hello, I'm Julie McCoy and I'll be your cruise director," which was hysterical, and so they're up for anything. I think we'll hit the Children's Museum while Mark and Dave snowboard, and then the next day, if I can get us in, massages for the ladies at the Woodhouse. Other than that, I just want to get some mexican food at Santiagos and then my idea-generating mind is shot. They want to introduce their son to snow so I bought him and the Manling some snowpants today. I'll have to see their son before I come up with a suitable acronym.... I have one in mind.

I just hope I don't get too freaked out by being around a pregnant lady for 4 days. Last night wasn't so bad, but it still kinda hurt. especially as it was a big topic of conversation , and there was a 2 month old infant there who I stole for a bit. We'll see. I have high hopes for 2007!

This Year's Kiss

2006-12-26T23:01:00.000-07:00

I am blatantly ripping off Summer who is ripping off Moxie who ripped off someone I don't read (yet, haha; like I need to add another feed to my Bloglines subscriptions) in the idea of posting the first line of the first post of each month of this year.

So I finally did it; created the blog. First post ever. I am glad I started this blog. I used to keep journals but have not done so in a long time. A new persona, a new medium. The anonymity yet blatant-ness of the internet is also a very interesting concept.
We had birth class reunion on tuesday night. This post is one of the first of many where I talk about meeting other moms, making new friends, and forging new relationships. This year has been pretty positive in that respect, looking back and reading my "documentation," surprisingly so.
This weekend, Mark, the Manling, and I are flying to Vegas. Was it any surprise this trip was a really bad idea? Bad in my estimation because Vegas is not fun with an infant. It was great to see my parents though, and to reconnect with Dave and Natalie!
My friend J. just sent the Manling a Nosferatu onesie in honor of the times we would watch the movie or have "theme" nights involving vampires. 2006 was the Year of the Babies. 2005, even though the Manling was out in the world for 3 months, was more the Year of Pregnancy. Jessica had her baby this year, and we rekindled our old friendship as well. I believe this month my post-partum depression was pretty much over and done with, but perhaps April.
So the Manling is an unbelievably seven months old as of this past week. One of many posts where I talk about the kiddo and his amazing milestones and developments. I took pictures probably 330 or more days this year of him. so few are printed, but I look through the collections all the time and remember silly little things he did, firsts that occurred, and tiny little outfits that are way too small. A child's first year is so awesome in the depth and breadth of the changes. Embryology is probably the only thing more intense!
Mark has recently gotten to join an elite tier, or so I'll describe it, at work where he is next in line to the throne. Oh, the economic pitfalls of being a single-income family. The elite tier was disbanded since then, and Mark is still not promoted. I honestly didn't think he would be after he told his district manager he wanted to stay at his new store through the relocation, which was followed immediately by the holiday shopping season. He told me that a new store is opening up in January 2007, so staffing should be occurring in the next few weeks. I hope and pray that he gets promoted then, or at least by March. We really need the additional money, and Mark deserves some recognition at work, since he gets so little at home, haha. I know I put probably too much pressure on him to be a great husband and father and help me aroubnd the house. I have to say, though, he does a great job. I hope I express it well enough to him.
I just added a "Ticker" showing how old the Manling is. This hopefully is not a slippery slope where I turn into one of those forum people with a signature that fills up half my monitor per post with vital stats, icons, tickers and the like. I'm thinking this is just showing myself to be a little more blog-savvy. I say that knowing I still haven't figured out how to add pictures to this thing!
I really feel terrible that I haven't updated this in forever. The beginning of my second baby obsession as well as increased mobility from the Manling. We also went on vaction this month, which I gave only a very cursory recp, totally omitting the Manling's first demolition derby: "Looook oaught!" I keep meaning to go back and fill in some more details, but I just can't make myself do it.
The Manling reached the eleventh month yesterday. A far cry from the exuberance of April's monthly letter. I was starting to wonder if I was ever going to ovulate again, and was having a really hard time thinking about ending breastfeeding. I'm glad I reached a compromise that I could live with.
I haven't posted in awhile... obviously. The one and only post for October. And that despite the momentous occasion of the Manling's first Anniversary of Birth. things were looking down. Waaaay down.
Looking back over the past few weeks, I think my depression was in part caused by the change in seasons, Mark working too much and thus, no personal time for me, and the advent of the Manling's birthday exascerbating my desire for a child because I love him so and want to replicate that feeling. Still depressed, but taking steps to alleviate the causes of it. My doctor telling me I was definitely not ovulating, and then getting bad test results put me into the worst depression I can remember. I am looking forward to getting more tests next month in the hopes that the results will be better, and that I will be that much closer to having a second child.
I feel like pointing out that I like to name my post subjects with song titles, especially since I haven't been doing shuffle playlists lately. Medical issues and thoughts on the holiday take up much of this month, but despite Mark working more than he did for the relocation project, I am handling it a lot better.

Looking back, the year wasn't all that bad. I have a lot to be thankful for, in the persons of my son and husband, and I'm making and maintaining more friendships.

I'm listening to music on shuffle and Baby I Love You by the Ramones just came on. That was the recessional song at our wedding. It always makes me smile.

Cool Yule

2006-12-23T15:15:00.000-07:00

I'm still bleeding, granted, not heavily, but bleeding nonetheless. Today is the first day of the no-pill week. I don't know what is supposed to happen: will I start withdrawal bleeding soon? I am trying to keep reminding myself to take my prenatal pills still so I will maintain my iron stores. I wonder what my doctor meant when he said I needed to have 3 "good periods" before I could stop taking the pill.

The Denver blizzard of 2006 has kept me trapped inside the house for the last 3 days. Wednesday we got about 24" of snow, totally crapping out any idea of receiving any gifts in time for the over-hyped holiday. Thursday I bundled the Manling up in his winter jacket, hat, and attempted mittens for the 30067th time to no avail. for lack of snowpants (this is Denver: we never need them), I improvised a stay-dry outer layer of 2 garbage bags over his pants and shoes. We made it out the backdoor so I could measure the final snowfall levels and as I was taking the reading, I heard a loud cry behind me; the Manling fell hands- and face-first into a huge snowbank almost as tall as he was. He hated it and so we went inside, not to go back out until today when I made Mark take me to the library and then drive me around the neighborhood so I could get some stimulation.

I have had absolutely no holiday spirit whatsoever this year. I am not a Christian, nor, for that matter, a member of any religion, and I think that the mass-consumerism of the christmas-centric holiday is pretty sick. I do like to celebrate the winter solstice, and I find it very interesting how many cultures celebrate the return of the longer days. I want the Manling to grow up with faith in something, and to feel joy in the celebration of things that are important. This all is a bit of disjointed thought, but bear with me.

Mark and I will put up what is commonly called a Christmas tree, to celebrate the renewal of life. I will not, despite family pressures, allow the Manling, or more to the point, force him, to believe in Santa Claus. I dod not think it is right to tell a child that some omniscient person/figure is watching over their behavior all year, and will reward good actions with tangible gifts. Epecially since most people only emphasize that Santa will not bring gifts to bad kids, and that the threat of no loot is only brought out around December. However, if I could figure out a way to incorporate more of the original source of St Nicholas and his charity into the story, I might consider it. A great post on Ask Moxie recently discussed what to do about the prevalence of Sants for non-christian families. My favorite solution is explaining that Santa is part of a game that Christians play around this time of year.

Today is indeed the solstice, or Yule, and I'm going to try to put on a happy face and enjoy knowing that tomorrow I will see incrementally more sunlight and revel in my husband being off work the next 2 days and try to internalize the joy my wonderful toddler feels when he looks at the lights and ornaments on the tree.

And I will sing, over and over my favorite wintry-themed song:
Just hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring-ting-tingling, too
Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you
Outside the snow is falling and friends are calling, "Yoo-hoo!"
Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you
Giddy-up, giddy-up, giddy-up, let's go
Let's look at the show
We're riding in a wonderland of snow
Giddy-up, giddy-up, giddy-up, it's grand
Just holding your hand
We're gliding along with bad a song of a wintery fairyland
Our cheeks are nice and rosy and comfy-cozy are we
We're snuggled up together like two birds of a feather would be
Let's take that road before us and sing a chorus or two
Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you
There's a birthday party at the home of Farmer Gray
It'll be the perfect ending of a perfect day
We'll be singing the songs we love to sing without a single stop
At the fireplace while we watch the chestnuts pop
Pop, pop, pop!
There's a happy feeling nothing in the world can buy
When they pass around the coffee and the pumpkin pie
It'll nearly be like a picture print by Currier and Ives
These wonderful things are the things we remember all through our lives
Just hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring-ting-tingling, too
Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you
Outside the snow is falling and friends are calling, "Yoo-hoo!"
Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you
Giddy-up, giddy-up, giddy-up, let's go
Let's look at the show
We're riding in a wonderland of snow
Giddy-up, giddy-up, giddy-up, it's grand
Just holding your hand
We're gliding along with a song of a wintery fairyland
Our cheeks are nice and rosy and comfy-cozy are we
We're snuggled up together like two birds of a feather would be
Let's take that road before us and sing a chorus or two
Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you

"Anguish is the following..."

2006-12-15T23:45:00.000-07:00

Today one of my friends told me she found out this week that she's pregnant with baby #2. She was using contraceptive gel, so it is a big surprise. She was planning to try for #2 this spring, and is frustrated that she doesn't have these few months of her body back to herself; she was at the tail end of weaning when this happened.

When she told me, I felt like my vision was in a tunnel and I wanted to cry. She knows the whole situation, and I know she wasn't trying to upset me.

I'm still bleeding. Bright red blood, with some major clots. I still don't understand what is happening.

Oh, the irony.

You're Bleeding//Teeth like God's Shoeshine

2006-12-13T23:15:00.000-07:00

Today, on day 12 of the pill, I started getting mid--cycle bleeding. A pink tinge, actually. I made Mark get down from the storage closet the pantiliners I haven't had to use since late December 2004. I see from my googling that this is very common, but I can't seem to find anything that explains why it happens.

Yesterday, I got fitted for my mouthguard. This device fits on my lower teeth and will prevent me from clenching my jaw, and will hopefully relax the jaw muscle that bothers me so. I never realized how often I clench my teeth, but Mark says I do it all the time. The dentist said my asymmetrical jaw movement/anatomy combined with the clenching/behavior is what is causing all the jaw pain. He said it's exascerbated by tension. That really made me laugh because this latest bout of chronic pain started in August when we were on vacation, ....with Mark's dad. Need I say more? Anyway, wearing even just for the last 24 hours I can tell a big difference in the way I hold my jaw, and that is exactly what we are intending. I have to wear it non-stop except for drinking and eating for at least the next 3 weeks, and at night thereafter.

Updated Blogroll

2006-12-09T21:15:00.000-07:00

I've added a few more good reads... not that anyone actually checks me out.

We're All Mad Here

2006-12-09T00:45:00.000-07:00

Just about every day to every other day since I got the results of the TSH test, maybe even the week before at the annual Pap/fisting, I have learned that someone else I read in the blogosphere or know in real life is pregnant, or at least tryin g.

I dream nearly every night about ovulating or conception. Like 8th grade science filmstrips.

I have been feeling exceptionally tired, and somewhat extreme-lower-abdomen crampy/twingy.

I'm starting to get really frustrated.

Cherry Tree Carol

2006-12-06T22:00:00.000-07:00

The Manling turned 1 year, 2 months old a few days ago. Each and every day brings more comprehension and a greater ability to move about. He still only says the word cat, and shrieks for dog, although sometimes he will do the ASL for come/dog. He's pointing at many things however, and has added plants and snow to his obession with lights and switches. Just yesterday, we put up our Holiday Tree, and he stood transfixed by the lights and tinsel. We looked over at a tapping sound to see him banging 2 glass ornaments together. I have found that if I correct his actions the first time he does something I'd prefer him not to, that he will generally not repeat it, and if he does, he will cease and desist upon a reminder. I wish I would have nipped in the bud him pulling down all the dvds on the bookshelf and him crawling into the dog's cage. Walking has improved seven-fold since one week ago exactly, and I expect him to be running and boycotting the stroller y the end of the month.

On my front, I have been taking the pill for 5 days now. It seems like it will be an eternity before these 3 months are up, and I can't even fathom 6 months. It brings to mind the first trimester of pregnancy and how molasses-slow time seemed to go. I read that women with a low Body Mass Index (below 20) often have a hard time conceiving. Mine is 19 or lower, which it was before I was pregnant. Also that low body fat (below 22%) can preclude ovulation or maintaining pregnancy. I would guess mine is around that judging from older info I've gotten from one of those scales that also tells you your body fat, but an estimation I performed said I was about 20 or 21. I am willing to gain some weight, if I can get and stay pregnant. Bring on the Ben and Jerry's! I have been trying to eat more, but I find it difficult to eat when I am depressed. Perhaps the hormones in the pill will pack on some pounds.

So far the only humorous thing about this is that it has helped me decide what I'd like for the Holidays: a ovulation-spit-microscope. I Googled "ovulation saliva microscope" and it returned over 40,00 results! I can only imagine Mark trying to find one. I think I may help him out and lok on eBay.

Questioningly//I Know There's An Answer

2006-12-01T11:45:00.000-07:00

I feel like pointing out that I like to name my post subjects with song titles, especially since I haven't been doing shuffle playlists lately.

I talked to my doctor on Wednesday. I was really down in the dumps that day, thinking about all the people I know who are pregnant, especially my cousin who was delivered that day. I waited around for what seemed like forever after leaving my number with his office. When he called, I asked him many of the questions from my last post:

Do you know of any links between breastfeeding and high TSH levels?He said that breastfeeding causes the body to have higher metabolic needs and that can throw you thyroid out of whack. I didn't see anything on the net about this, so I'm not exactly convinced. Mark, on the other hand, knows nothing about this stuff and thinks that anything thet the doctor says is the gospel. I feel like he's not taking my concerns seriously, and that really hurts.
What are the chances that cutting out these 1-2 feedings will make me ovulate? He said that that may just be enough to push my body, but of course, he can't say.
Is the birth control pill we talked about the "mini pill"/progestin-only? Is it triphasic? No. He feels a combination pill will work the best to "choreograph" my hormones, although he did say I could get a low-dose estrogen pill. He prescribed Loestrin, but my insurance covers the generic, Microgestin1/20, which is not triphasic, but only has 20 mcg of ehtinyl estradiol and 1 mg of norethindrone acetate. I have not started taking them yet. I should take a pregnancy test, just in case, tomorrow morning, or maybe this afternoon when Mark gets off work, before I start them. LactMed, the grestest website ever to see whether drugs will interfere with breastfeeding or cross over, says that my milk quality may decline a little, but it appears that the Manling should be safe. I'm just worried about other side effects, like insanity, weight gain, acne, and further loss of libido, since it's actually starting to come back a little now. Thank goodness for Astroglide!
How long will I be on this pill before I can stop taking them and start trying to conceive? He said a minimum of 3 months, with a maximum of 6 months. I need to have 3 regular periods while on the pill. I wonder since that brand is used for shorter, lighter periods, and I typically had short and light periods already, if I will have no period whatsoever. I should probably asked him what regular periods meant. He aslo said I may have some mid-cycle spotting during the first few months. I wonder if that would negate that cycles as a normal one?
If that doesn't work, what is my next step? I didn't ask this. Kinda afraid of the answer.
Should I prescribed thyroid replacement hormone? He said no, not until we hear the next thyroid test results will we even consider treatment. He said he doesn't like to rely on just 1 TSH test. I can be retested in 6-8 weeks, with 8 weeks being preferable. Since that is 2 months away, and I could potentially only be on the pill for 3 months, I decided to go ahead and get the prescription. If I waited to get retested and my thyroid was normal, and I was still not ovulating, I'd have to start the 3 month regimen then so I thought I'd get 2 months out of the way while I wait.
I saw treatment is may not commonly be done for TSH less than 10. He said he felt that 7 was not a high number, and I told him I read on several sites that pregnancy could not be sustained with TSH levels over 1.9. He said he didn't necessarily agree with that, so I have decided to drop it until my next test results were back.
What thyroid test was done in November 2005? What were those results? He did not have my full chart in front of him because he was at the hospital, so he was not sure. I can't find any paperwork from that test. All I know is that at my 6-8 week post-partum check-up, he had felt a potential lump on my thyroid so he had a blood test drawn. It was ok, but I don't know if it was a TSH test or not.
Should I have a thyroid function test (measures T3 and T4)? He said that T3 results can be "variable", so I will have a Free T4 test as well as a repeat of the TSH test. I can even come in and have my blood drawn a few days in advance so at my actual appointment we can look at the results.
Can I also get a thyroid antibodies test? I did not ask. I thought I'd wait to get the results of the above tests done first.
Should I start charting my basal temp.? He said I could. I know that the pill prevents ovulation, so I don't know how charting will help. I'll have to look into that.

Yesterday was interesting because I hosted my first playdate ever. Six moms and kids, ranging from 6 - 16 months came over to my house. I had such anxiety beforehand but it seemed to go pretty well. Two of the moms I had never met, but the presence of the other 4, of which 2 were good friends of mine, really made it easier. And one of the moms I'm hoping will be my friend. She seemed pretty awesome, especially for being 9-1/2 months pregnant. She even breastfed while pregnant up until the 2nd trimester. She crochets, too. She's my hero. Hopefully she liked the Manling and I as well . First dates are always odd.

Five-O Ford

2006-11-29T08:45:00.000-07:00

Big post number 50. Whoop-ed-e-doo....

From my reserach so far, I have yet to see a connection between breastfeeding and a high TSH number. Nonetheless, it has now been 8 nights with no mid-night feedings nor any early morning boobathon. The Manling seems to be taking it well. I am a little sad about it. Managably so, however. I have not yet called my doctor because I am compiling a list of questions for him:

Do you know of any links between breastfeeding and high TSH levels?
What are the chances that cutting out these 1-2 feedings will make me ovulate?
Is the birth control you mentioned the "mini-pill" (progesterone only)? How long would I have to be on that before I could stop and start trying to conceive? If that doesn't work, what is my next step?
Should I be prescribed thyroid replacement hormone :levothyroxine sodium (synthroid, levoxyl, levothyroid, unithyroid)? I saw treatment is may not commonly be done for TSH less than 10.
What thyroid test was done in November 2005? What were those results?
Should I have a thyroid function test (measures T3 and T4)? ("Free T4" measures unattached thyroid hormione in the blood; if "Total T4 then also do a "T3 resin uptake test" for free T3) I read that T4 levels are normal at around 50-165 nmol/L, with best feelings over 110.
Free T3 (Triiodothyronine) 1.4 - 4.4 pg/ml (less than around 2.3 )
Free T4 (Thyroxine) 0.8 - 2.0 ng/dl (less than .8 indicates hypothyroidism)
Can I also get a thyroid antibodies (antithyroglobulin and antimicrosomal) test?
Should I start charting my basal temp?

In other news, Luanne is being induced today. As of yet, I have heard no word. Her most recent MySp@ce info says she plans to stay in only one night, and it seems that she thinks it's going to be easy. I don't know if she was given prostaglandin, pitocin, or and epidural, if they stripped her membranes or broke her water, or if she's having a c-section. Being unable to conceive right now really makes this a bit painful for me.

Google University Vs Not Over-reacting

2006-11-25T19:00:00.000-07:00

I got my blood work results back today and I've been in a snit ever since. My TSH level is 7.16 H, falling in the "Out of Range" category, with the reference range being 0.40 - 5.5 MU/L. At the bottom of my test result page, my doctor wrote "thyroid looks low," which really freaked me out because I can clearly see that 7.16 is higher than 5.5. So I hopped on the internet and finally found a blurb on an infertility message board that high TSH = low thyroid = high prolactin = no ovulation = no conception. I became immediately depresed and started crying. Mark said I was over-reacting and if something was wrong that my doctor would've called me. I can't quite find numbers that say over such-and-such a range you won't ovulate, but I'm still a little concerned about being potentially hypothyroidal (is that even a word?). Then again, I saw someone say their TSH number was like 96. I need to do a lot more research before the office opens on Monday. I went to the library and checked out The Thyroid Sourcebook for Women, and I will be poring over that as well as Google University. Mark is really non-plussed and I'm pretty upset with him for not being more sympathetic. I know I have such a Cassandra attitude, but I like to be prepared for the worst so the good stuff is a pleasant surprise.

Thanklessgiving

2006-11-24T19:15:00.000-07:00

My dad didn't make the effort again this Thanksgiving to call. I think he still might be offended/hurt/whatever over the Baby Shower Incident. Hmm, I see I didn't write about that. The gist of the matter is that Luanne's mom was throwing her a baby shower in Ohio, where most of our family lives. I thought I'd go, thinking I could visit my dad, and introduce the Manling to my grandmother and other family members who hadn't met him yet, as well as my dad's new (3rd) wife. He lost his license from a DUI and still doesn't have it back, yet drives all over the place anyway. I tell him off about that. When his 2nd wife left him, he lost his shit, and lost his job, then lost his license. I was a little surprised since about 5-10 years ago he said he was an alcoholic and stopped drinking. I don't know when he started again. Anyway, so he had no job and no license, but a nice drinking problem. He eventually got a judge to let him drive soley to find emplyment. But he drove everywhere all the time. And still drank and drove. He either couldn't get or wouldn't take even the lowliest of jobs, and had cashed out retirement to live off of. He finally, after at least 18 months, started working for his sister.

Anyway, back to the shower... he dropped the new wife off, and drove off to do errands. She barely said anything to me, but I was with my mom and other aunts, and I wasn't expecting to get to really know her. She made absolutely no effort, but I hear she's shy. Whatever. He came back, and started drinking beers on the porch with her as the shower wrapped up. My mom and Vidalias joined them, and when my dad ran out of his brand of beer, he drove off to get more. I was pissed. I had planned to have my mom drop the Manling and I off at his place afterwards, but he was so drunk that I scrapped that idea and went to dinner with my mom and some other family. I left the diaper bag there and had to come back. He had the nerve to ask why I was going to dinner with them. I actually was so livid that I told him that it was because he had made a series of poor decisions that day, and that it was because he was stinking of smoke; he tried to hug me while holding a cigarette. I was so hurt on the inside, though. I could not believe that he couldn't or wouldn't stay sober even one evening so he cold hang out with his daughter and grandson. I still feel so raw inside over that, and I feel bad for the Manling that he won't have a good relationship with his grandfather. I sent him and the wife a thank you note for the gift for the Manling's birthday, and repeated that I didn't like to see him, or her to allow him, to drink and drive. I didn't mention how hurt I felt; I should have. I keep making excuses like maybe he felt awkward being around me, and other things. It just makes me feel so small and insignificant that my father would choose alcohol over me. I hate him for that.

Another major thing that annoyed me this Thanksgiving was that Mark's dad didn't call us either. Mark called him after we left dinner at a friend's house. His new girlfriend answered the phone; he was out at the store. Mark has never met her, our spoken to her, and she immediately asked Mark if he could get her a discount on an mp3 player. Apparently, she's a lawyer, and has a duaghter at some really expensive college, but the girlfriend has recently gotten a part-time job at a department store. We have no idea what kind of lawyer would need a part-time job, or a discount on an mp3 player. Mark's dad asked Mark what we wanted for Christmas. Mark kind of blew him off. After 4 years of marriage and 6 years of being together, that man has gotten me one Christmas present ever. And no birthday presents. Now that I think about it, maybe that's why the Manling didn't even get a card; maybe just just doesn't do birthdays. I have a lot more irritation about him, but I'm moving on.

My 3rd most annoying thing involved Luanne and Thanksgiving. Being her and her husband's only family out here, I assumed ( and yes I know what assuming does) that she would want to get together for the holiday. Why, oh why, do I continue to labor under that delusion? I asked her their plans and she said that her husband wanted a turkey and so they were making one. That's it. Nothing like you guys should come up, or we should come down. Just that. Irritating. I will not make the same mistake for Christmas.

The last bit of holiday scroogedom I will share, at least until the Winter Solstice, is that Mark had to go to bed around 6pm on Thanksgiving because he had to work at 4am. And of course the Manling wouldn't go to sleep until around 10pm, thereby throwing off his whole schedule Friday.

Grumble grumble.

Common People

2006-11-22T20:45:00.000-07:00

This past week I have grabbed the bull by the horns and tried to come out of my comfort zone and meet people. First, on Friday, I went to a Highlands Mommies playgroup hosted by a lady who I had actually met a few months ago at a free baby-gym thing. I haven't done any HM playgroups before, and I was a little leery, but I gave it a shot. The hostess is really nice and just moved here in 2005 from Florida, and her daughter is 16 months old.

I felt kind of like an ass because I sent her an email after reading her story in Parents/Parenting, I forget which.... In it, I asked her if the subgrup she and I both belong to were meeting at the park still since I felt awkward attending a playgroup at someone's house I'd never met. Plus I wanted to let her know I read her story in the magazine and empathized with the situation. Anyway, she emailed me back and was really nice and said she was a newer member of the subgroup so I shouldn't feel too weird. then later that week or so posted that she was having this playgroup. I figured now or never and did it.

In this past year, her house got demolished by a hurricane, her daughter was born, the family lost their health insurance and got royally screwed by the insurance industry, they moved to Denver, and remodeled their house. Holy cow! The house is amazing, even though it's right on the busiest arterial in NW Denver. It was within walking distance though so the Manling and I took BOB out for a stroll.

There were 5 kids, 2 girls and 3 boys, at the playgroup all told, and 4 moms, including myself and the hostess. The other kids were all 13-14 months, and I think the Manling was one if not the only beginning walker. I know 2 others were walking well and I can't remember. the other kids. The other moms were nice, too, but they seemed much older and I didn't feel I was making any repeat friendships. One mom who seemed promising left early and the 2 moms that were left were a little intimidating for me. Career women. And one was pregnant again. They didn't seem fun though. Hopefully my hostess connection thought I passed muster!.

I think that's probably my biggest hurdle as a mom: making mom friends who I'd like to hang out with. My friend Sarah, who of course lives on the east coast and not here has a 3yr old and she said she never really gets to pick her friends anymore based on her interests: she only gets to meet moms who have kids the same age as her son. Very depressing. But I think she lives in a small town versus the thriving metropolis of Denver.

On Monday after the worst night of the Manling NOT sleeping ever, I went to another sort of playdate at the Cherry Creek mall germpit, I mean breakfast food play area. That one was the 2nd ever SAHM portion of the Denver stitchandbitch yahoo group. I was an hour late, and the Manling had never been to the germ pit before plus he's still not a pro at walking so I spent all of my time with him. I only saw one other lady who had yarn/knitting, and I coudn't overcome my shyness and talk to her. I just lurk over there at that group, but mostly because I always have the Manling and Mark is working during their weekly stitch and bitch sessions.

It's a start.

Food, Sex, and Ewe

2006-11-21T20:30:00.000-07:00

To follow up on the long-promised breastfeeding/weaning/whatnot post:

I had a very interesting Tuesday last week. In the morning I had my first non-baby related Pap/gyno appointment since December of 2004. And by myself! I asked my doctor, who is also the Manling's pediatrician, my obstetrician, and Mark's general doctor about my amenorrhea, a condition that in the past I have indeed felt like "Amen" about, haha. This time I know it's because I'm breastfeeding.

I told my doc that I really want another child. He told me a few things:

I could possibly, but probably not, have a thyroid problem or something wrong that makes me not ovulate. So they drew blood, and now that I think about it, I haven't heard anything back. He said I needed my cholesterol numbers anyway. I thought: "you know I couldn't give a rat's ass about my cholesterol right now," but I digress.
From the look and feel of the environment in my vag (to avoid "prono" Google results) that it's very very very unlikely I'm ovulating now.
We can "force Nature's hand" as he said by prescribing birth control pills for a few months to get my hormones back into line. This idea I'm not so keen on because the last thing I want is synthetic hormones in my body (or in the Manling's) as well as contraception.
He said that I probably need to stop breastfeeding altogether if I want ot regain my fertility.

I have numerous problems with that. At 14 months, give or take a week or so, the Manling
is a great eater. He eats almost everything you put in front of him. He doesn't seem to like peaches, but that's about it. Recently, he's been unhappy if I try to feed him purees, and likes to eat more solid, grown up foods. He breastfeeds only about 3 times a day, sometimes 4. Typically, a wake-up session around 5 or 6am, where we bring him to our bed, after which he returns to his crib. Then, before napping a short time, and as of these last 2 weeks or so, naps are down to one long power nap of about 2 to 3-1/2 hours around 1pm. At bedtime, which is around 8-9pm, he'll nurse anywhere from a minute to 30 minutes until he's drowsy. Other than that, unless he's hurt physically or upset emotionally or something unconsolable by other methods, he'll pop on for a very short time. So there's a huge break at night of at least 8 hours nightly.

I don't know if I should go to a LLL meeting and ask them; I've read a bunch of their books but none of them really address not ovulating AND trying to get pregnant. I'm fully prepared to nurse while pregnant, and am thinking that I might hope for a beginning of weaning around 21 months at the earliest. I'm afraid that if I wean the Manling that I won't get my fertility back right away, anyway. Other than Mark's wish for massive amounts of "buckle-rubbin'," I am in desparate need of advice, suggestions, and understanding. I'm just so frustrated and everyone I've talked to says blithely, "just wean the Manling." People, it's just not that easy!

So, A Needle Pulling Thread...

2006-11-17T14:00:00.000-07:00

Oh, I forgot to mention that I've been doing a little sewing lately, to give my crochet hands a rest. I thinkI'm getting arthritis in my not so young age. I used the Jan Andrea directions to make myself not one, but 2 ring slings! First I went to my local tack shop where the nice redneck, oh I guess he was a cowboy, not a redneck, gave me 4 rings for free, andI got to buy my froufrou dogfood there, and the cuteLab puppy there kissed the Manling all over his face and I didn't even mind. Then I discovered I had more than enough fabric to begin, using two fairly substantial cottons or woven fabrics(maybe one was a twill?) . I then had to learn how to make a French seam because I had a bit too little of the lining (red cherry print) to match the outer black&white cherry print - might as well go rockabilly-hippie, eh? The French seam took me about an hour and I even had to use my ultimate nemesis of small appliances - the iron. Next I sewed and sewed and pleated and sewed and finally assembled the damn thing with the rings only to discover the 30" wide, now 2-ply fabric was waaaay to thick to overlap and sew on my machine. I hand sewed in the rings. Total time was about 8 hours. I put it on, only to discover the rings are too small in diameter to truly adjust the sling so I have to rip out the whole area, get new ones and re-do. Ugh. It seemed pretty comfortable though. I just will procrastinate until forever.

I had 2 rings left and decided to make another sling for in the meantime (plus my stroller had a flat tire) using this thinner definitely non-natural fiber crazy print that screeeeams "hippie". This sling would also be reversable but no French seam was needed, although I did cut the fabric in half prematurely so I had to sew all 4 sides like 8 times instead of just 3 sides and flip it right side out. Sew and sew and pleat and once again handsew in the rings. Total time about 2 hours including handsewing. This one is not so comfortable feeling but can be adjusted. Sigh.

I think I'm an idiot for waiting so long to try to sling the Manling. My friend Jessica has been slinging her 2 month old baby since birth and has made several of the Jan Andrea slings, so I think it'd probably have been easier if I started when he was a tiny 6 pounder. He's only 20 lbs but I walked to the library with him in the 2nd sling and my shoulder and neck felt like hell. I even trouble-shot my positioning over at the babywearer site before I left and I don't know what's wrong.The Manling loved being able to see and communicate with me more than just cruising passively in the stroller though, so I'd like to try again.

And She Was

2006-11-03T11:15:00.000-07:00

Looking back over the past few weeks, I think my depression was in part caused by the change in seasons, Mark working too much and thus, no personal time for me, and the advent of the Manling's birthday exascerbating my desire for a child because I love him so and want to replicate that feeling. Maybe replicate isn't the right word, I want another child because I love the Manling so much and I want more kids to love in the same way. I think that's more expressive of my feelings. Plus, I want him to have hopefully comrades to share familiy memories with. I feel much better, by the way. I also am feeling a little different in the nether regions, so maybe the "Long Winter" is receding and the "Fertile Spring" will soon be here.

Before I move on to more serious issues, some random thoughts:

Why doesn't Jeff from the Wiggles have eyebrows?
I finally got my ticket to the Decemberists!!!

The Manling is 13 months old today. He is such a darling boy; I am so lucky to have him. Truly. His latest hijinks include hugging and kissing people, pets, and stuffed animals; slapping them in the head is so September 2006. His vocabulary consists of only 1 word now: "gaaaaaahht" which he chants over and over at the resident felines. He no longer says "mama" or "dada", and said "doh" (dog) twice one day, never to be repeated. My theory is that he has a checklist of words, and once he knows them, he checks them off the list and moves along. Hopefully, that is. (But he did do something similar with rolling over.) I also worry that maybe I don't talk enough to him and that it's retarding his language ability. In late September, he only just started pointing, albeit with a whole hand. Since his birthday, he has started pointing with just his index finger. And of course, I read somewhere that the earlier children point, the better they are with reading/writing/language comprehension at school age. Arrrrgh! But back to more achievements.

A few days after his birthday, I was looking at board books in the bookstore while Mark kept his eye on him. A few minutes later, Mark came rushing over with the news that the Manling stood up by himself from the floor without the help of furniture of any kind. He was so proud of himself, and all throughout the month would stand up and throw his arms up in the air, accompanied by an enormous grin, looking much like a gymnast dismounting from the uneven bars. Very funny to watch. Within the past 2 weeks, he went from just standing between our legs while we held onto his hands, to cruising rather quickly with only 1 hand being held. I suspect the days of upright moblity are drawing near.

Sleeping has been literally a dream this past month. There were only a few nights when he woke up in the middle of the night, and his bedtime, especially since the end of Daylight Savings, has crept closer to 7pm, with his initial wake-up time between 5 and 6:30am, followed by a nosh in bed, then sleeping until 8 or 9am. We are finally well-rested. I think it's too good to last and foresee the learning to walk stage interrupting this pattern.

I'm running out of time, but will talk more next time about breastfeeding, weaning, and the like.

Pretty Vacant

2006-10-18T11:30:00.000-06:00

I haven't posted in awhile... obviously. I haven't really felt like it, although I've made several beginnings of posts in my head.

The birthday of the Manling was pretty anticlimactic. I decided not to throw a party since Mark had been working 6 days a week for the past few weeks until his store relocation-thing was complete. I was really burnt out. In addition to the normal "retail widow" syndrome, I was starting to feel like a single mom. I couldn't stomach getting the house ready, plus food, invitations, etc., by myself. Mark actually had to work all day on the Manling's birthday. Then 2 days later was our 4th anniversary. Mark also had to work all day that day.

Then at last the relocation project was complete and Mark had that Friday and Saturday off. Hurrah!!!! I got the Manling a cake (rom the local chain grocery store since they sent me a postcard to get a free one and since I was not inclined to make one and decorate it myself, it was very convenient. Tasty, too, as I've spent the last week eating the entire thing myself) and we lit the candles, sang the requisite song and let him dig in. The Manling was non-plussed by the cake and touched it once or twice but didn't tear into it. i think that the whole "1st birthday tearing into a cake" thing is yet another myth. We also opened gifts. We, meaning Mark and I, since the Manling there again didn't care about ripping open the presents.

I am very hurt and disappointed with Mark's father, because he didn't call or send even a card. This really didn't surprise me, but I thought that he might. I guess it's not so bad that we live so far away.

The only activity that we did to celebrate either our aniversary or the Manling's birthday was to go to the corn maze at the Denver Botanic Gardens at Chatfield. We went during the day, so it was fun, but not spooky, and we got lost. I took some very cute pictures of Mark and the Manling and I'm thinking of having some blown up.

Mark and I didn't exchange gifts because we are on a pretty tight budget, but ended up getting really expensive things anyway. I got a new computer tower since ours self-destructed. We lost tons of files including wedding things and all the music I'd been downloading for months. Luckily, the Manling's pictures were not lost - the only non-replaceable things. Mark got a 30-ought-6 rifle and all sorts of hunting supplies. He's going elk and mule deer hunting this weekend and will be gone for 4 long days. And he wants to take my car. I am less than pleased but I know he really enjoys hunting and has been working really long and hard so what can I say. He'll be camping at high-altitude at low temperatures so I hope he doesn't freeze.

I only wish I had something fun to do in the near future. I've started feeling really despondent again about my lack of close friends. I read recently about the concept of "air family," or those people who are your "friends" via proximity, like at work or something. I feel like most of the people I know are air family and that I don't really have an outlet to talk about my feelings or to do fun things with. I am trying to expand my comfort zone in an attempt to make new friends and to forge deeper relationships with people I already know, but it's tough. And with the winter season coming up, I am worried about becoming more and more isolated.

I love my husband and my son but it just isn't enough.

Sometimes I wonder if I only want another baby so much because I'd have another little person in my life that I could love. I hope that's not an underlying reason. I really want The Manling to have a sibling or 2 or 3 that he is close in age and in relationship with; for him more than me. I think the depression I'm having about friends and closeness is feeding into the depression I'm feeling about the lack of libido, the lack of pregnancy, etc and is exascerbating it all. My Seasonal Affective Disorder is flaring up again as well. I've seriously been considering starting therapy.

Signs

2006-09-26T13:58:00.000-06:00

So the Manling turns 1 in 6 days. What a wild rumpus the last year has been! I look at him everyday and see the little boy-child he is morphing into, and the sweet little infant that I cradled in my arms is fading away. I try to consciously remember these days, and I am very very glad that I took pictures almost every day this last year. I have recently put away (completely: washed, folded, "spacebagged," boxed up, and directed Mark where to stash) his 0-3 mo baby clothes, and have a whole stack of 6-12 mo clothes to do as well.

The weather has turned distinctly autumnal and the crisp days are kind of a welcome relief to those hotter than hell days of the summer. But still the seasonal change makes me sad as it always does. I just really do not like being cold. My lower core body temperature means that I will have icy-cold hands and feet and will have to wear sweaters for the next 7 months. I was trying to remember the weather that happened last October. I remember the 2nd as a very warm, t-shirt an maternity capris sort of day as I met Mark at work for a surprise lunch. But I can't for the life of me really remember anything after I delivered. I remember some days of sunshine, but only from the rays of sun shiny through the windows. I know we dragged the Manling out as much as possible, but I can't remember anything particular. I just remember the days getting shorter and my life being stretched out so that time crawled. I remember thinking I knew nothing about being a mother and not knowing what to do with an infant. I played WebSudoku and surfed the internet reading mommy-blogs, while the Manling slept on my lap or I gazed at his tiny face in his swing. I remember crying everyday when Mark would get home, just letting myself express the feelings I kept bottled up inside all day, trying not to let my oblivious infant know how overwhelmed I was. I remember feeling that my body would never stop bleeding nor recover from the incontinence. I remember the grief. Oh, do I remember the grief I felt for the person I was before: the scholar, the go-to-girl, the lover of live music, the drunk. I felt like such an inept failure; I had never even had an entry-level job in my chosen job field, I had a degree and 9/10ths, I wasn't contributing to my household. I felt like such a dependent little girl/housewife rather than the educated independent woman that I was, and am. I remember feeling emasculated, or whatever the female equivalent is, by having a man take care of me. I demanded and summararily received a direct-deposit "allowance" to partly alleviate these feelings. I remember hating Mark because I was now forced to wash the dishes, do the laundry, and do the housework all by myself when all I wanted to do was lie on the couch and cry. I remember Mark trying so hard to understand my grief, my confusion, my despair, and my still wildly out of control hormones. I remember the 2 hours twice a week when I went to my last class at college, bringing the Manling about half the time, and listening with pride to everyone ooh and aah over him and how quiet he was as we had lectures.

I was just thinking about those first few weeks when my friend Jessica had her baby, and I sent her a cautious email telling her about the need to grieve, and how the first three months are like triage and merely survival, and all these memories came back to me. Man, those first weeks were hard. And the lack of sleep! I can really relate to the use of sleep-deprivation as torture.

And despite all this, or maybe because of it, I'm still desperately, soul-searchingly anxious or eager or whatever to have a second baby. Goddamn the lack of libido. I can't make the Manling wean; he and I both love breastfeeding so, and I'm not going to pressure him to stop, even if it means I have to wait a while longer to hold Old Number 2 in my arms.

Denied X2

2006-09-06T16:30:00.000-06:00

1. Nothing is worse than getting really into a blog only to have it turn password protected.
The Rabbit Lived and Horkin Ramblings, I will miss you.

2. This week I took a pregnancy test to see if Operation Still Haven't Gotten My Period, Still Breastfeeding, Still Want Another Child was a success. Nope. I have a libido that is an un-libido, and I frequently feel too "touched out" by the Manling to want to even try to have sex. But I so desparately would like to be pregnant again. I am so happy with the Manling and want him to have a sibling or more. I want to feel this good about more children. I can't even imagine how infertile people must feel going through this month after month. I just can't. I can only just keep trying and have sworn not to get too upset until my period has returned.

Elevensies

2006-09-04T20:00:00.000-06:00

The Manling reached the eleventh month yesterday. I am absolutely dumbfounded thinking about how he has changed over the course of the last year and that his birthday is 4 weeks away.

This month was interesting in many ways. Physically, the Manling stands for a few seconds at a time, "falling" to the floor to crawl away with softer and softer thumps. He will cruise along any stationary object, and when entranced by getting his little mitts on taboos items such as the remote control, cell phones, car key/alarm remote, or Xbox controller will sometimes stand on his own for up to 10 seconds at a time.

He has learned the signs for UP, and perhaps ALL DONE, but still hasn't shown me NURSE, CAT, EAT, WATER, or CUP. He has been eating lots of table foods, but will gag and choke and cough and finally vomit when he gets a slightly big chunk of any Stage 3 baby foods. It's almost as if he thinks it's a waste of his time to be eating the 3s: "give me the real stuff or don't bother." He shakes his head vigorously back and forth to indicate I should not feed him whatever tasty morsel I'm trying not to shove down his throat at the time, and also shakes his head like that while laughing like a little game where I'm assuming he likes the way his view changes rapidly. Sleeping has been great this month with most nights hitting the hay around 8ish and waking up once anywhere between 3:30 and 6:30 am, and falling back to sleep until about 9am.

Verbally, I think he pulls out MAMA and UH-OH with each meaning what they say, with DADA coming out very rarely. We've had a few poops and pees in his little potty when I've been so lucky as to put him on it when he has to go. He will sit on the pot for a few minutes at a time but I don't think he knows what he's really supposed to be doing there. We moved it out of his room and into the bathroom and let him watch us as we both go. Mark is of course even more thrilled he doesn't have a lock on the bathroom door now. Speaking of doors, the Manling's favorite activity is opening and shutting things: books, doors, windows, and the dog crate.,Climbing up stairs is also a fun activity for the little guy.

I went to the Denver Public Library's used book sale and got about 30+ videos, CDs, and board- and story-books to add to our collection. I think the Manling is behind in his verbal learning. I am very introverted and can go a whole day not pointing out things to him. He doesn't point whatsoever and I feel very guilty like I'm starving his little brain. I never really enjoyed reading baby books to him and pointing out every little object; I read A Series of Unfortunate Events to him for his bedtime stories.

He has reached the 48 week growth spurt/sleep regression and is being a pain in the butt lately: needy during the day, nursing every.waking.second, and night sleep has also been disrupted. But I know this too will pass, and relish each minute spent with my little Manling. Watching him explore this big wide world with a smile for everyone but still coming back to the safety of my arms is my most favorite thing ever.

Down the Shore and Other Rabbit Holes

2006-08-23T12:00:00.000-06:00

More about vacation...

We got to see almost all of "The List" a.k.a. my college friends for a few hours at Grill's house. It was definitely weird to be around them all drunk while I was sober. Sober and breastfeeding. Everyone except for JP seemed to take to the Manling, although as we left, he grudgingly conceded that I had an ok baby or something very apropos for the Jipper. It was great to see Jackie K before she moves out to Cali to go to acting grad school. I can't wait to say "I knew her when...." Plus Barrett drove up from Baltimore, but Reds stayed at home. I think she's still having trouble with her nervous breakdown, whatever it is. I still can't get over how such a pillar of strength has crumbled. It defies my comprehension. I just hope she's ok. Georgia made some delicious food; I think Mark is in love with her. I asked Grill why he hadn't fed me like that when we were roommates; he said he wasn't ready for her then. We're all convinced they are secretly married, the shady bastards. Snatch and the Prof hung out with Mark and the Manling and I in the kitchen and the Manling kicked and knocked over the Prof's beer several times before she figured out to move it. She later called me from the same room and left a messgae, "When you're done nursing, call me, we'll hang out" which was fairly comical to hear later because you can hear me saying "jackass, you're supposed to call me when I'm not here."

We drove down to Ocean City that night, or should I say, I drove. I insisted on driving over the Ben Franklin bridge after taking an impromptu tour of Girard and Spring Garden away from the gentrified area of Northern Liberties, and finally making it to Delaware Ave as all the bars were letting out. There's nothing like the AC Expressway in the middle of the night to make you love driving, especially when blaring The Loon by Tapes N Tapes. I miss driving with the windows down, music way up, the humidity making the cool night feel sensually warm, and singing at the tops of my lungs. I'm sure the Manling was thrilled.

Vacation went on and on and I can really imagine writing any more about it. I'm lazy, I know. Some highlights:

The Manling's first visit to the Ocean. He loves the water and sat right in the tidal area, nearly getting swept away once or twice.
Mark bought the Manling a pair of Leopard creepers for when he really starts walking.
We took him to the Kutztown Fair where he came head to head with some cows, ate his first funnelcake and cotton candy, and went to his first demolition derby.
He saw his great uncle's chicken hatchery and got to sit on the tractor.
He met his aunt, uncle, great uncle, and great aunt for the first time.
The Manling acted like a seasoned pro on both flights.

Rats!

2006-08-22T17:30:00.000-06:00

Grrr. Of course the new Decemberists album leaked the week I was on vacation and I couldn't sample it for purely evaluative purposes.

Vacation (Meant To Be Spent Alone)

2006-08-22T12:45:00.000-06:00

Well, we're back. 10 days of abject insanity.

Of course the new TSA regulations started on the day we were flying. We were taking a red-eye flight, so when we got to the airport, there was absolutely no wait through security. Our bags got searched because I had left in the Manling's Butt Paste and a small bit of hand sanitizer. The darling TSA lady let me keep the Butt Paste, AKA liquid gold for it's magical abilities to fight diaper rash as well as it's price, but confiscated the hand sanitizer. No big deal. The Manling slept right through the flight, as did the other 5- 6 babies on board. Our rental car was an amazingly nice Hyund@i Sonata, and we headed up to Nascar Nance's work so she could show off the Manling to all of her cronies and toadies at work. Home to her house by 10AM Eastern, 8AM Mountain time for a nap. Smoketown Road festivities including bonfires and grilling until late in the night.

Saturday we went out on the boat to Blue Mountain Reservoir with a passle of grandkids, my mom, and Vidalias. I don't think I've been boating since about 1992 or the late 80s. I needn't go back for another 15 years either. Mark and the Manling had a good time though. Mark tried to learn how to waterski which was quite hysterical. I think he swallowed about a zillion gallons of green opaque lake water - ugh. The Manling did a little tubing. He had on a pink lifejacket and looked pretty hysterical himself. I tried to stay in the shade and willing us not to capsize or sink or anything Giliigan's Island-esque. I'm just not a big fan of boating.

Later that day we drove down into Philadelphia to see Jackie K perform in Shakespeare's Two Gentlemen of Verona, which was set to a Beatles score and costumed in the 60's. 1960s that is. The Manling came with us, and we met Snatch and Sarah there. (I've decided to stop using initials and to start using people's names, or at least the names I give them.) The Manling sat through the performance fairly rapt for a 10 month old. He'd watch for a little bit, then eat a few snacks, then nurse, and repeat. After the intermission he was a bit more rammy, and during the scene where the outlaws were hiding in the woods, shushing each other as they hid, he let out a hell of a yell, at which poit the actor doing the shushing through back an extra shush at him. This brought down the house. Maybe the Manling has an incredible sense of comic timing.

Afterwards, we all went to Grill's house for Jackie's going away party (and meet my baby session). On the way there, Mark happened to see my ex-boyfriend, Mike Murray. I was totally surprised by that because I think Mark only met him once or twice and to randomly run into him as he was bicycling and we were driving around Rittenhouse Square, and to have Mark recognize him and remember his name, was a little uncanny. We chatted for a bit and then off to Grills' house.

More later. The Manling has boycoytted his nap and must be removed from his crib before he explodes.

Songs: (not about vacation; just about this damn nap that's not)
The Smiths::Asleep
The Cure:: The Exploding Boy
Cold War Kids:: Quiet Please
Ben Fold Five:: Lullabye
Modest Mouse:: Sleepwalkin
Jawbreaker::Sleep
Stereolab: Baby Lulu
Jazz June:: Falling Asleep on Lincoln Drive
Supersuckers:: Sleepy Vampire
Plimsouls:: Hush, Hush
Colin Meloy:: Baby Song (Weird and Wonderful)

It's Been So Long

2006-08-09T12:30:00.000-06:00

I really feel terrible that I haven't updated this in forever. Like my hordes of readers out there really miss it...

Let me see, I got to see the Railbenders and 4020 a few weeks ago at the Breckenridge Beer Festival. It was a great show, outdoors, free, and lasted for what seemed like ever. I didn't participate in the Beer Fest because I was driving, but the Manling, Luanne and her husband, and I had a rip-roaring time. Until...

I got a blast from the past. I saw this scrawny dude wearing sunglasses doing the elbow noodle dance and rolled my eyes because he was totally trashed and wearing a woman's bright orange and yellow tanktop. A few songs later he corners me and asks me if my name is Anne. I say yes, then figure I better ask him what he said to clarify because my name sounds like 800 other things, especially when loud music is blaring. He repeats the question and asks me if I went to KU. I of course say yes and he says, "I totally know you from like 9 years ago," and I'm thinking who the hell is this? So I take off his sunglasses because he was not forthcoming with info and finally ask who he is because I have no idea and I'm thinking it could be anybody I was ever rude to at Turkey Hill or Shorty's and he says....

"My name was Ziggy" and proceeds to give me like 10 hugs and I of course hate that and he is thrilled to see me like we were best friends back in the day when he really annoyed the hell out of me. Anyway, he looked great compared to before: not fat, short hair, just a little strung out looking and bad taste in clothes. He was too drunk to talk to so I mumbled something about living in Denver as he asked me for the 5oth time what I was doing there and trying to avoid hug after hug after hug. I asked him if J. lives out here and he said yes but of course no other relevant info.

I totally never would've recognized him because he looks so different. I had to ask my friend B what his real name is, because he didn't tell me that either. For all I knew it could've been "Clarice."

One of the fellow Railbenders fans had posted some pictures of the crowd, and I saw my "best friend" Ziggy there captioned "douchebag in a tanktop." I posted on the forum how it was that this weirdo was hugging me, and I found out that Ziggy had ripped off 2 shirts from the band without paying. I guess despite his change in appearance, he still is a douchebag.

Other past events to recap:
Craftwise, I have made a pair of Elvis jammie pants for the eponymous Ms. P, and will be making several pairs in various patterns for the Manling when I have a chance. I crocheted a large ball for the Manling to scurry after and throw around the house. I crocheted and felted, but not constructed a stroller diaper bag for Luanne. I am about 1/3 done with a crocheted pink and fuschia fuzzy blanket for my friend S's baby.

I still haven't found the missing diamond stud earring that I have now lost twice. I know it's here in the house, but it has eluded my grasp for well over 8 weeks now. I am still very disenheartened since they were my 30th birthday present from Mark.

Travellingwise, my mom, stepfather, and nephew just visited us for 6 days. We went down to the Fours Corners area and did 2 days in Mesa Verde. Mark was very disappointed because the Centennial hikes allowing you to see sites rarely or never open to the public were sold out for months in advance. We did tours on the three major cliff dwellings. What a stupendous sight. What amazing ingenuity and tenacity those Indians of 800+ years had.

And tomorrow, we fly back to PA/NJ for 10 days. I am so not prepared. We still have no one to come feed the cats, and I only got the dog boarding situation taken care of yesterday. The high cost of plane tickets, rental car, dog boarding, and random expenses will probably make this our last vacation in just about forever.

The money situation continues to be vy tight around the old homestead, and I'm starting to believe I will have to get a job. In a way, I am rather excited because I would love the adult stimulation, and because I secretly think I am failing the Manling by not stimulating his little intellect enough, but I am also dreading the high sick-rate of daycare. We shall see, we shall see. I reckon I should get back to packing etc for the trip.

OH!!! About an hour ago the Manling was playing next to me. My "constant vigilance" slipped for a second and he pulled a wooden chair onto himself. He has a huge fat lip and his front teeth cut up the inside as well. He stopped crying within a minute or so, and there's not a lot of blood, but it's really broken my heart.

Listen to these songs:

Ben Folds - You To Thank
Colin Meloy - Pregnant For the Last Time
Gary Jules - Mad World

They'll give you a rough idea of how I'm feeling lately.

Birthday Recap

2006-07-22T22:00:00.000-06:00

The Manling's first birthday coincides with the release of the Decemberist's new album!

Speaking of birthdays, mine was actually a really great time. I didn't receive a single gift, which was a bummer, but Mark got me these amazing flowers that were about 4 feet tall, purple, and just crazy looking. I have no idea what they are called. Then, of course, the show!

We ended up having Mark's friend's wife babysit, way up it seemed near the Wyoming border. WE dropped the Manling off, and I had some anxiety that he would be hard to handle. Apparently, he did great: a little aggressive toward the little girls there, and then shy and miserable until he fell asleep. But no real tantrums, thank goodness.

We got to Red Rocks in the broiling sun only to find out that due to the request of Social Distortion that no containers, including the all-important-in-90+-degree-weather water. I was like you've got to be kidding me, and figured that that was the first sign of a very bad time.

The first band, 9 Black Alps, started promptly at 5pm, and ended at 5:30. I wasn't a big fan of them, so we had trekked up to the top to grab the first of the 4 margaritas I ended up drinking that night. I'm not sure what they put in those things (tragi-comic attempt to downplay my complete lack of tolerance anymore), but I was completely hammered by the end of the evening.

The Supersuckers played a vy brief set as well, and gave a shout out to the hometown darlings the Railbenders. I was hoping that Eddie would pull Jim Dalton up on stage to sing a song or 2 but since they were bumped by Tiger Army, I figure they didn't have the time. The highlights for me were "Pretty Fucked Up" and "Bloody Mary Morning," which Eddie dedicated to his wife, who was also having a birthday that day. During this set, L&K arrived and we 4 congratulated ourselves for being baby-free for the evening.

Tiger Army came on next, and despite the extremely long lines to get drinks, I was already pretty drunk. I do remember them playing most of my favourite songs, and that the bassist had a green bass, which I thought was very striking. It was the first time I'd ever seen Tiger Army and it was great! M,S, and M's "gaggle" of friends that he always seems to have, showed up during this set, and more making fun of my light-weightedness occurred.

I was having the time of my life, however. It felt good to be away from the Manling for more than 3-4 hours. This was the first time I had been away from him for that long. I wasn't too anxious about it, although I did keep thinking about how when I was his age, my parents left me with my aunt and I pulled a hot-water percolator onto myself causing major 2nd-degree burns which gave me major scarring since before I can remember anything and that really embarassed me when I was a kid. I figured that odds were severely against something like that happening, but it did keep running through my mind. I think that's why I really decided to drink - to get my mind off of it.

Social Distortion finally took the stage around 9pm. It was so weird to be at an early show, but since we had to drive back up to the North Pole to pick up the Manling, well, Mark was driving, not me, it wasn't really a bad thing. Mike Ness was in rare form, and played lots of oldies and goodies. Best of all, he wasn't in a ranting mood. Definitely one of, if not THE best Social D set I've seen ever.

I was really surprised to see that a good majority of the seats were empty before they played, but the place filled up when they took the stage. I like Social D quite a bit, but I didn't imagine that they'd draw such a crowd. Then again, D, J, J, and R told me that they only came to see Social D, and only came in right before their set, so I guess others felt the same way.

On the way out, we saw Eddie Spaghetti, his wife, and child (Quattro? Was his name really Quattro?) at the Supersuckers merch booth and gave him kudos for great but way too short set, and acknowledging the shout-out to the Railbenders. At least that's what I hope came out of my slurred converstaion.

The venue was exquisite. The weather eventually cooled down to a very tolerable temperature. The stars were shining. I had a nice drunk going. There were a bunch of my friends there. The line-up was a dream come true. All in all, it was in my top 5 Best Concerts Ever, and definitely beats out the other birthday concert I've seen - Material Issue at the Theatre of Living Arts in Philadelphia for my 16th birthday.

Picking up the Manling was the best part of the night though, and I sat next to my sleepy baby on the way home. He'd been asleep for 4 hours before we got there, and it was a good 45 minute drive home. Of course once we were at home and I really really needed to pass out, he decided to wake up and not go back to sleep for what seemed like an eternity. I crammed down a whole pizza and some water, gave him a bottle, and finally just let him crawl all over me on the floor until both of us fell asleep.

It was a great birthday! (I'm not even going to get into how I felt the next day, and I babysat a 5-week old infant!)

Randomosities

2006-07-13T10:30:00.000-06:00

So far I'm 2 for 3 on the myspace friends thing. I'm really quite pleased. I miss people. I wish I wouldn't get so much anxiety about these things.

The enormous spider escaped a few days ago. Mark thinks I left the lid ajar. I think the huge spider pushed his way out or else sent out spider-messages to his equally huge buddies who helped him make the jailbreak.

I hadn't mentioned this before, but I somehow have lost our cordless phone. Not the crappy hard-to-hear one, but the one attached to the answering machine. You'd think since I have the house torn apart that I would've found it by now, but no. Chalk it up there with Mark's vy expensive snowboard gloves, and one of the diamond studs I got last year for my birthday. All MIA. I'm thinking about creating those metal bracelets like the POW/MIA groups use.

Speaking of birthdays, mine is coming up in 2 days. The Powers That Be have taken steps to make it unpleasant as usual. Somehow they had slipped up and allowed Social Distortion and the Supersuckers to play at Red Rocks that day. I got tickets on pre-sale 2 months ago, and started looking for a babysitter. Fastforward 6 weeks when I had just about given up on the idea I'd get to go see this show. Tiger Army was added to the bill, and my conviction that it was ok that I'd miss this awesome show flew out the window and I really, really wanted to go again. My friend S said she'd babysit, and life was ok again. Then, just yeasterday, I was made aware that the 5pm time on the ticket was not when the doors opened, but when the 1st band was starting. This show starts insanely early: doors open at 3pm. So S won't be off work in time, throwing me into another bout of anxiety. Luckily Mark's coworker had said his wife would babysit. He'd offered her up previously, but they live 30 miles north of us so I'd thought that it'd end up being too late by the time we got back up there. But with the show starting at 5, I think it'll be over by 10pm. I guess Mike Ness can't handle staying up late anymore?

I guess I should start pumping so the Manling will have something to eat that day.

Stripping on a Saturday Night

2006-07-08T23:15:00.000-06:00

Between stripping the stink from the Manling's Fuzzi Bunz, I was cruising on that entity known as m.y.s.p.a.c.e. and I saw quite a few new (to me) profiles of people I used to know. Do I contact them? Would they care? I even found my ex-best-friend from grades 4 - 10 and my ex-boyfriend who stole every single CD, album, and tape I owned when we broke up. Not to mention numerous other people who I'd like to rekindle friendships with. It's just so hard. It worked with J and N&D, but will it work with others? Should I even bother?

Mark will be home from work soon to distract me from this.

Today I edged in the paint for our bedroom. The Manling hated watching me from his exersaucer and tried to suffocate himself with the dropcloths. I wasn't falling for that escapade, however.

I still haven't been able to locate the source of the cat pee stink, and I'm beginning to be obsessive about it. It seems to be moving. My newest hypothesis is that it's really the Manling's diapers; hence the stripping.

Poltergeists and Other Monsters

2006-07-07T22:30:00.000-06:00

I had to wait until evening to play CSI:Feline. As a side note, if I was a CSI, I'd definietely want to be Marg Helgenberger. I've loved her ever since she was KC Koloski, the amiable but tough whore on China Beach. Evening fell, and I got out the old blacklight recommended to me by those experts at my local big box home improvement store. I scanned every square inch of the office and our bedroom only to find....

Nothing.

Some quick googling led me to discover that not all blacklights are created equal. I, of course, had gotten the "cheap, novelty" kind. That explained why nothing at all really glowed - not cat pee, not white t-shirts, nothing of any day-glo emanations.

In the meantime, the smell of cat pee had been replaced by the smell of fresh paint since I had finished painting the trim so I could hang the new blinds up to regain some semblance of privacy in the bedroom.

The next day, I returned the 2 non-recommended odor removers and the cheap bulb and headed off to my local pet-crap-o-rama big box retailer where I purchased a UV black light for the princely sum of $20. Which reminds me, those "experts" told me at the other place that I didn't need a UV light, and that only medical supply stores sold UV lights. Did I mention the pet place is right next door to the home improvement place?

Evening finally rolled around, and Mark and I took turns being Marg and Gary "Warrick" Dourdan. Once again, we found zero evidence of any cat malfeasance.

Mark is of the impression that there truly is no cat pee. I cannot bring myself to accept that conclusion despite no evidence to the contrary. I smelled something. He smelled something. In 2 separate rooms separated by different floors. I also cannot bring myself to return the $30-some dollars worth of odor detectors/removers because I am convinced that once I do, the smell will come back.

The only good thing to come of this episode is that we are painting the bedroom finally! I've only been wanting to do this for the past 4 years. Other good home improvement project news: the stonework in the front of the house is 95% complete. Only a few more of the capstones need to be glued into place. Mark was taking some trash to the dumpster earlier this week and some neighbors who live on the opposite side of the alley complimented the yardwork we've been doing and asked him when we'd moved in. I think Mark mumbled something about living here for a while. Pure comedy. The other good news is that when my parents come to visit later this month, they're bringing my 14 yr old nephew M, who apparently loves to do chores for cash. We've been concocting all sorts of things for him to do.

I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned this, but Mark is vy terrified of spiders. So much so that Luanne got him this as a gag/real gift this past winter holiday. I don't mind them until they reach a combined leg/body size of a quarter; then even I reach for the bug gun. Earlier this week, one of those behemoths home-invaded our bedroom (earlier that the cat pee episode). Mark ran for the gun and threw it at me. I sucked up the monster, and encapsulated him in the see-through container. He's been living on our dining room table; I'm surprised he's lasted so long; most of them die after a day or so. His longevity and resilience so far makes me glad I didn't put him outside like we do to the smaller folk. He's kind of like Shelob in Lord of the Rings!

I'm going to attempt to revamp the shuffle playlist and see if I can come up with some topical recommendations:

Honky Cat - Elton John
Lovecats - the Cure
Piss Up A Rope - Ween
The Stench of Piss - Pro-pain
Blacklight - Misfits
Red Paint - the Promise Ring
You Blister My Paint - Screeching Weasel
Waste of Paint - Bright Eyes
Here Comes the Neighborhood - NOfX
Buggin Out - A Tribe Called Quest
Spider - They Might Be Giants
I Whupped Spiderman's Ass - Wesley Willis (check this out for a chance to create your own Wesley Willis song!)

Berlin - Take My Breath Away

2006-07-05T16:00:00.000-06:00

About a month or 2 ago, we took down the Berlin Wall, AKA the swinging gate, that separated the cat sector of the house from the dog sector of the house. One of the cats assimilated pretty well, and the dog settled down (mostly) after a few weeks although she still likes to wolf down the cat's food if left unattended. The second cat, my first and favorite pet in the house, has emphatically **NOT** assimilated.

This morning I awoke at 5:30 am, leisurely stretching and basking in the feeling that I had gotten an entire night's unbroken sleep. And then I smelled it.

Cat pee.

From an undisclosed location.

I woke up Mark and then tore the room apart trying to discover the location to no avail. I needed to run some errands so I hung out for a few hours until the other locations opened; I was not going to be one of those people who go to major unnamed retailer at 6am when they first open even though I considered it. A blacklight was needed immediately! While I was running around putting stuff from our room in other places I went downstairs to my office and realized that the smell I had thought was the drain backing up from the laundry room was really crime scene #2 for cat pee. I hate cat pee. It stinks so damn bad.

In the meantime, I decided that while the bedroom was fairly free from clutter, I would hang the blinds that have lived in boxes in the Manling's room for months since his replacement blinds came in. To hang them, I needed to paint the window sill and trim. To do that I had to remove 75 years of old blind hardware and scrape paint off the panes, yes the actual glass. As I was scraping I mentioned to Mark, who'd been trying to sleep as I tore apart the room and took down the hardware and was finally up getting ready for work, that one of the window panes seemed to be separating from the casement/trim/whatever and that I should pick up some glazing while I was out. He leaves; I continue scraping. I get to the last pane, the last side, the last 4" of glass when ping! the pane of glass snaps in half.

All of this before 7:30 am.

I go out and do my errands and come home with the blacklight bulb and 3 types of enzymatic odor/pee remover. I'm shining the blacklight all over the carpet just like CSI, but unlike them, I didn't have the crazy sunglasses and the sun was beating down on the carpet rendering the blacklight useless. Why didn't I shut the blinds, one might ask. Because I took them and their hardware down just hours before!

Later, I get the news that my friends J&C will not be moving out here in August. J. said that the idea has not been abandoned. I am sad it will not be happening soon, but I'm glad to hear that Operation Go West Young Man has not been aborted.

The good news is that J. said one of the 3 products I got to deal with the cat pee is fantastic.

Someday soon I will re-start my shuffle playlists again. Just not today.

Tickers

2006-07-02T12:00:00.000-06:00

I just added a "Ticker" showing how old the Manling is. I am undecided if I like it or not. I think tickers are pretty silly. I like the dragon, though.

And the age doesn't seem to jive with what I reckon he is: the weekly tally says he's 1 day shy of 29 weeks, the calendar says he's 1 day shy of 9 months, and this ticker says he's 8 months 4 weeks and 1 day old. I don't get it.

Innies and Outties

2006-06-30T21:00:00.002-06:00

To catch up from last week, we have not yet finished the retaining wall project because we still don't have the 3rd step. I'm really annoyed by this point. The aggregate for the stairs and the upper walkway can't be put in until we place that last step. Plus we can't place the capstones on the one side either. And we won't be getting the rest of the plants and the delivery of the mulch until we are done completely with the rock work. We planted a whole bunch of (mostly) drought tolerant plants on the side that is finished. I've even been watering them vigilantly!

The Manling's doctor visit turned out to be anti-climactic. The Doctor said that the sleeping, or lack of it, is common at this stage, and the fever and diarrhea are sometimes associated with teething. The puking was most likely due to him eating too much, too fast. I felt like an over-protective mother, but the good part was that the Manling had a non-harpoon visit, so perhaps he will not associate the office with pain.

The top left front tooth that had been ruining my life finally erupted on the 24th, and things have been settling down. We still have someone in the house who believes that they are nocturnal, more so than the cats. No names shall be mentioned, but he just had a 9-month well-baby doctor visit. The doctor said that developmentally he is on track. Physically, he is slightly anemic and underweight compared to formula-fed babies. Wouldn't you think that that means this is the normal state? I would think that formula-fed babies should therefore be considered super-non-anemic (is there a word for that?) and over-weight. No wonder we are a nation of obese! He is a tall, skinny dude- 95th percentile in height and 20th percentile for weight. We only discovered he was anemic after I expressed concern that I wasn't feeding him the right types of food to fulfill his nutritional needs and asked if he needed a multi-vitamin. A short wait for a blood test revealed his deficiency and now he gets a daily vitamin with iron. Iron produces the loveliest black poops.

The Manling started eating organic non-cheerios, strips of whole-grain bread and banana puffs in the past week. I would say that of every 4 bits, 2 go to the dog, 1 falls down into his chair, and the 4th makes it into his mouth. Watching him gum things is quite comical. The expressions he makes remind me of a toothless old man.

The crawling stage is, honestly, not very fun and very exhausting to chase him around the house. Especially since we have not yet fully babyproofed it. I'm thinking I should just move with the Manling into an unfurnished house for a while. His favorite targets are the dog's big rubber bone (which goes immediately into the Manling's mouth), the cats, any electrical cords, and the dvds and xbox games. My favorite thing he does lately is his reaction to Mark coming home from work. The dog will hear the car door slam and race towards the front door. The Manling takes this cue to indicate his beloved Daddy is coming in soon and lunges towards the dooras well, shrieking and cooing. I believe the dog and he are competing to see who will be acknowledged first.

He has still decided that he doesn't need to sleep anymore. Naps have become a struggle: he fights going to sleep and drops off for only 15 - 20 minutes before sitting up at the end of his crib crying to get out. If I gave him a tin cup, I'm sure he'd drag it against the bars like the old prison movies. And at night.... a bigger fight to fall asleep, and then up 1-3x for generally 30-60 minutes. Occasionally he will sleep right through just to throw me off guard. I'm trying to add in a 3rd meal of solids to see if that will help with the sleep.

To celebrate the Manling's 38th week, where he has had equal time on the outside as on the inside, we went camping. The doctor said that babies do better at altitude than adults do, so we drove up to West Chicago Creek campground outside of Idaho Springs. Mark and I hadn't been camping since 2004 so it was great to get away, and it was the dog's first camping trip as well - the cats had a lovely dog-free romp through the house with extra water and food left out for them. The camp was set in a pine and aspen forest so the scenery was excellent.

Mark tried to light the campfire but doesn't possess that gene. He had a pillar of smoke suitable for passing Indian signals, but no flame. I emerged from setting up the inside of the tent and within 2 minutes had a cheerful little blaze. We had traditional "camping food" i.e. Hamburger Helper Lasagna, turkey- and regular burgers, smores (even the Manling who bit into them like they were crack), and turned in early. No sleep, of course, because the ground was excessively hard, the Manling was squirmy, and the camp host had freaked us out by telling us that both beasr and mountain lions had been spotted there within the last week! The stars were amazing to see; it's interesting how you forget how many there are when you live in an urban area. The next day we took a short hike up to St Mary's Glacier.

Oh, I had forgotten to mention that 2 weekends ago, my friend J. had come out for a short visit/job interview. He was just offered the job, and his wife, C. recently had a phone interview with a local school district. It looks like they will be moving out here. I can't wait!

And in further friend news: my friends J and B just had a baby girl, A, on the 9th. They live only about 10 blocks away and B will be a SAHM. I will have a partner in crime soon! M and J, another couple, just announced that they are expecting a baby in January of 2007. The Manling and I hung out with S, who said that she and C are planning to start trying to conceive in the next 6 months or so.It's going to be Baby Central around these parts!

I felt very crampy and emotional today and am hoping that I am regaining my menstrual cycle. I mean, I don't want it to come back, but I need it to return so we can try for another nocturnal creature. I was telling S today that I really want to have child #2 soon, but would like to be pregnant without having to have sex. I wish my libido would come back as well! We reminisced about how I hated being pregnant and laughed about how now I'm a baby addict.

I really need to figure out how to upload pictures to this thing. I am 99% finished with my felted messenger/diaper bag. I sewed a key loop, a wallet pocket, and a brocade lining into the bag, and assembled it with the strap. It's really a fine, fine prototype of the bag I want to create. I have nothing else to crochet right now. I finished J's baby girl's skull hoodie, and S's and B's baby girls' hats, and I am not starting anything for Luanne's baby until she finds out the gender.

Last but not least, last Thursday after the doctor appointment that was so anticlimactic, I experienced something very climactic. I went to see Tapes n Tapes at the Larimer Lounge with Cold War Kids and Figurines. I only caught the last song of the Cold War Kids set, but they sounded awesome. I later checked out some of their mp3s online and am kicking myself for not picking up their album at the show. Figurines played a short but sweet set. I initially didn't care too much for them , but found myself singing and humming a few of their songs days later. The main event, Tapes n Tapes proved themselves to be everything the internet hasd hyed them up to be. I was blown away by the strength of their songs live. I got my hands on a physical copy of The Loon, which I have yet to open - saving it for an especially depressing day, and listening to the tracks I've been "previewing" from various music blogs. It was amazing to see such a great show at such a small venue, and it was all ages. I hope the hordes of youths I saw were equally impressed. I'm going to attempt to see TnT again when they return in a few months with the Futureheads.

Wally World

2006-06-22T11:25:00.000-06:00

The Manling has got crawling down now. He zooms all around the house, especially after the pets. It's amazing. Those front teeth, and I do believe both are coming in, have still not appeared. We can see these huge puffy gums and on one side the little white serrations are nearly through. He has been experiencing a variety of strange physical conditions the last week. He got over that high fever mentioned previously after the second day. He has had a slight fever on and off again this past week. He has a runny nose. He has a cough. He has been waking up in the middle of the night. He has thrown up a few times after eating. I am taking him to the doctor this afternoon to get him checked out.

Last week Mark took a week of vacation. We had initially planned to go Back East to see our various families, but decided to stay home and work on our house. We got 4 pallets of flagstone steppers, flagstone wall pieces, and aggregate to build a retaining wall, flagstone stairs, and 2 walkways. Mark had thought we could do all that in 3-4 days tops. We ended up working about 8 hours a day for 8 days straight. It was really great to work so hard, amazingly enough. I think that the hard labor brought us closer together - "team building" as they'd say in retail. Mark did all of the digging and prep work and I fit together all the stones for the wall and walkways.

The only crappy part is that the stone company kind of screwed us. They seemed pretty inept:

Delivered large flagstone pieces versus the cheaper and smaller steppers we'd ordered. This, however, was nice because we could reduce the "seams" between stones for the stroller on the walkway.
Delivered only 2 of the 3 stair steps. We have the top step rigged up with a large but uneven piece of flagstone which I am convinced someone will take a header over.
Sold our aggregate and delivered it to someone else so we had to purchase it from another company which had a cheaper delivery but a more expensive product.

Secret Squirrel

2006-06-10T02:15:00.000-06:00

The Manling is still working on perfecting the crawling. He wriggles, he rolls, he staggers, but he does not do a distinct crawl consistently. This is absolutely fine by me.

He came down with a fever over 102 degrees earlier this week. I at first thought it was just our record-setting heat, but slowly it dawned on me that his head was practically glowing. I took his temperature using my as-yet-to-be-used-for-its-rightful-purpose basal thermometer, as well as the ear thermometer that I can't get to switch from Celcius. Luckily, however, I have a college education in science so I can convert at the drop of a hat. A day and a night of Motrin, AKA Liquid Sleep, plus cool baths, cool washcloths, and lots of breastfeeding and the fever went away.

It occurred to me that maybe the copious amounts of drool, the fever, and my mom saying that his recent pictures all show him smiling with his mouth askew meant that he might be teething again. I pried his mouth open to see red puffy gums and the faintest glimmer of a upper front tooth buried inside. I was told oce that squirrels can lock their jaws when they bite, so if you get bitten by a squirrel, you generally have to break their jaw to get them off you. I don't know if it's true or not, but I was reminded of this as I tried to get that look into the Manling's mouth.

I did some frantic research on-line about fevers, emergency rooms, and teething before the fever had gone down. I find it intersting that some doctors say teething can cause a fever and some say that a fever is just a coincidence and is really a sign of some other ailment at the time. The Manling had no fevers during the first wham, bam, thank you ma'am set of teething. A second characteristic that may or may not be asssociated with teething is diarrhea. None the first time, but after the fever went away, I was gifted with a hearty 5-wipe poop. I'm thinking that these signs might indicate we are going to see some teeth soon.

Mark has decided not to go for the very-fasr-away job. I'm very relieved by that. But now of course I feel guilty for not contributing financially. I don't want to leave the Manling. Hell, I've got insomnia just thinking about who will watch him for one evening for my birthday, nevermind trying to get a job and find daycare. Luckily, it has not come to that point yet.

Administration

2006-06-02T23:30:00.000-06:00

I was just looking at some previous posts to see what/if I needed to update anything for my phalanx of loyal readers (haha). I noticed I had some comments. Wow, I thought. Someone actually reads this drivel and cared enough to comment.

Um, no. Not exactly. I had generic comments from sites that just led to spam sites, and, my favorite, 3 whole lists of pronogrpahy. Yep, spelled wrong to avoid any hits.

So now comment verification is on. Dummies.

Never Send To Know For Whom The Bell Tolls; It Tolls for Thee

2006-06-02T22:21:00.000-06:00

Mark has recently gotten to join an elite tier, or so I'll describe it, at work where he is next in line to the throne. I mean, this group is the only pool from which general managers for his retail big box company will be culled.

There is one store opening currently, and this is diametrically across town from us. Across town sounds cosy, like a short jaunt, or a brief drive. This drive, in reality, would be approximately 30 miles, with a Mapquest-generated driving time of 35 minutes. This is the best-case scenario. The store is on the very southeast fringe of the metro area, and he would have to drive on two very congested highways, one of which is a toll road. I'm estimating about 45 minutes to an hour each way which would take him away from the house about 12 hours a day. And the toll is $2 each way, so it will cost an extra $1000 per year to drive to work. Mark says that the company also says that you must stay in a particular store for a minimum of two years, unless there is a "considerable" benefit to the district.

He really thinks it will be beneficial to his career to put in an application for this opening. I hate the idea of it, but he says that unless he is promoted, we won't be able to afford to live on just his income alone. I want him to do what's best for him in all capacities. I want him to enjoy his job. I want him to be home enough to see the Manling growing up. I would even go back to work part-time in order for him to be able to be at home more. I feel trapped between two bad alternatives here. I hope that we get a good sceanrio here.

In other news, we have embarked on the quest to improve the front patch of dirt. We are not going on a vacation in two weeks, but are staying home and building a retaining wall, new stairs, and a flagstone walkway! What fun! Mark has been just itching to get started on making the front look less the Oklahoma Dust Bowl, and more like the front yards of the rest of our neighborhood. We made a deal that we would do the front yard improvements, and then start on the kitchen remodel.

I had an electrician come over to quote out running electricity to the garage, installing some ceiling fans, and putting a second(!) outlet in the Manling's room. I also asked him to do a rough quote on the electrical work involved with the kitchen remodel.

I got the quotes back today and I am quite surprised at how much it will cost for this one aspect of the job. I can see our home equity from the refinancing trickling away. I just have to keep telling myself that it will make the house more comfortable to live in as well as raise the value upon resale. I just dread getting the plumbing estimate, the windows plus their installation estimate, and the cabinets plus installation estimate. What really worries me is the "incidentals" on top of those.

Happily though, the Manling is a great, thriving, happy baby. Tomorrow he will be offically 8 months old. How quickly time flies! He has been growing and devloping like mad this month. Some new foods for him were beef, chicken, turkey, barley, apricots, and lentils, among others. He continues to eat everything wonderfully, except he shows a reluctance to cooked carrots still. He must pick up my dislike for them.

He has not crawled yet, but is desparately trying to do so. He started out the month by doing push-ups like the downward facing dog yoga position as you may recall. He balance soley on his big toes, which over the course of the month turned red, lost some skin, and are developing the first sighns of callusing. He has progressed to getting on all fours and rocking back and forth. And he has figured out that rolling over will increase his mobilty, reach, and viewpoints and will tumble over as needed. The boycott was ended about two weeks ago. He spins and shoves himself backwards and wriggles, but no crawling. I am not pushing him because I know it is only a matter of time before I will need to babyproof the house.

This month we discovered the Manling loves the water. Since the bathtub has become functional again, he no longer bathes in the kitchen sink. The extra room in the tub allows him to splash, eat bubbles, and play with his duck. He puts his mouth and chin in the water and doesn't mind when I pour water over his head. One sad thing, though, is that we were doing bubble baths regularly and have had to cut back on the suds because the soap was inflaming his uncut boy parts. We bought a small wading pool and he flopped around in it. We went to D's pool and bobbed around in there for several hours. He definitely enjoyed himself. I did too, despite having to buy a new swimsuit top since my previously too large bikini now looks like the smallest of pasties!

Babysitter Wanted

2006-05-26T22:00:00.000-06:00

Social Distortion and the Supersuckers are playing at Red Rocks on my birthday. I already bought tickets, and now have roughly two full months to find a babysitter. So I will probably begin the search in about 6 weeks.

Alumni, Orchids, and Moms

2006-05-15T20:30:00.000-06:00

I'm not sure if why I don't post more often. It feels like I have less time than ever, but nothing has substantially changed. The Manling has continued to sleep in his crib, and has pushed back his bedtime to between 8 and 9 pm, and sleeps through the night, so I have more time to myself. Granted, my friend J. did visit from Tuesday until Sunday, so that may have something to do with it.

It was great having him here. I think he and C. will be moving out to Denver after all. We did several "urban" hikes with the Manling, and he, Mark, and a couple of other people went to see Ministry on Friday. So what with all the shenanigans, I had a great time.

Other things of note are that we finally had J. ( a different one) come over and take professional pictures of the Manling. Maybe we will finally send out birth announcements!

And after complaining about it all week, I finally checked my transcripts on Thursday night and saw that my internship grade was changed to the A that I had really achieved, and thus I had fulfilled my program requirements. So yesterday, in addition to having my first Mother's Day (with a child "out-utero"), I also graduated from college. I had a 4.0 GPA, but was only listed in the program as graduating cum laude, rather than summ cum laude. I suspect that it won't be changed since they look at your GPA from the semester before you graduate, even though the internship was from the summer of 2004. That dratted department and the dratted lady who "takes care" of things. I could almost spit. I'm just happy to be done with the place.

Mark had to work, but the Manling and I went downtown to at least attend Commencement. I was planning to hear Gail Norton speak. When we got there, there were about 10,000 people plus some sort of youth chess tournament going on. I couldn't handle the crowd and the resultant stuffiness and heat, and I would've had to leave the Manling's stroller outside, so I grabbed some programs and went to the Tattered Cover bookstore, ate a delicious brownie, and perused some books.

Mark got me some amazing gifts for Mother's Day, but I am returning them. The first was a gorgeous two-stemmed orchid. I love orchids, but seem to kill them. Sometimes I can get the leaves to stay alive, but the flowers never bloom after the ones that they came home from the store with fall off. I'm returning it rather than kill it. The second gift were these really pretty pear-shaped tanzanite and diamond dangly earrings. I'm not a big dangly earring person, and I don't think I'd wear them. Plus I hate thinking about how much they cost. Mark says that jewelry is pretty much crappy and cheap or super-expensive and nice; I guess he's right. I think I'm going to pick out something else that I'll wear. I may even just put the money toward getting my honeymoon tanzanite gem set. This is kind of similar to what I'm thinking. I want princess-cut diamonds rather than round ones, and less of a prong-type setting and more of a triangular wrap-over type. It would be helpful to know the lingo for that once I go to the jeweler!

My mom sent me 2 dozen roses for Mother's Day with probably the nicer sentiment she's ever expressed towards me as the message. It said something along the lines of hoping that my memories of the Manling will be as meaningful to me as her memories of me are to her. I was really touched.

Plus last night something amazing happened. The Manling went to bed, conked out around 9ish. Mark offered to give me a massage, which I of course accepted. It was wonderful. We haven't had a chance to really get romantic in many a long months. I said we should make a plan to do something like that at least once a week as a firm commitment. I'm not going into details here, but Mark and I have been talking about baby #2, and when we'd like to have him/her. This massage may have speeded up the process, which I highly doubt due to breastfeeding, but we were considering starting to "practice" beginning next month. Only time will tell.

Se7en

2006-05-08T16:34:00.000-06:00

So the Manling is an unbelievably seven months old as of this past week.

He has some new skills:

Sitting up for a long, long, time, in a galaxy far, far away. Seriously, the kid has mastered sitting. He can't get into the postion by himself, but he tries. He will try to go straight from a on-the-back position to sitting upright by contracting his abdominal muscles. He hasn't quite figured out that rolling to one side and pushing up might be easier. I just figure he'll have a great six-pack.
Getting up in the dog's grill. Luckily I have acclimatized her to withstand repeated pulling of her jaw-skin, ears, tail and fur from the time we got her in preparation for this day.
Scooting backwards. The Manling has now replaced any need for a Swiffer to remove said dog's shed fur from the floor. And he does an excellent job of getting the dustbunnies out from underneath the entertainment center. He does get a wee bit frustrated at not being able to move forward, but I hope that won't be for a few more weeks. I like still being able to put him down and finding him relatively where I left him after I come back from playing on Myspace or making quesadillas. Just kidding, social services!
Push-ups. The Manling intuitively knows that crawling forward involves getting his belly and legs off the floor. But for some reason he believe all body parts must be off the floor at the same time. He does a sort of downward-facing dog (that's NOT the Manling) whereby only the pads of his big toes and the palms of his hands are on the ground. He will have the strongest big toes in the known universe.
And, trumpets please: Sleeping in his own crib, in his own room! I hesitate to actually write this, but for the last few days has been doing that very thing. I tried and tried to follow the guidelines set out in Tracy Hogg's wonderful Baby Whisperer books, but I just couldn't. So instead I turned to advice given by a terrific bloggers out there: Tertia of So Close, among others. I can't say I enjoyed these last few nights, but it really seems to be working. And I'm not going into any more detail nor am I going to apologize or defend it.

The last few months have been wonderful. I can't imagine life without the Manling.

Couch/Potato

2006-04-28T23:00:00.000-06:00

I'm still a little sick but not a whiny blatch any more.

Ok, I have to admit...I think I'm a hippy. Signs pointing to yes:
1. breastfeed
2. cloth dipes
3. crochet
4. make own baby food
5. stay at home mom

It kinda sucks. I'm not at all ashamed of any of these things, though. When I say it kinda sucks, I mean that these things don't really fit in with how I used to identify myself. But how I used to identify myself in the past, I really can't say. It's ironic that I do this stufff now, and love it.

I think I may also be a yuppie:
1. own 2 Hondas
2. highlight of week was when Crate and Barrel new couches were delivered
3. shop at Gymboree regularly
4. christ, isn't that enough?
5. my friends from college would also add: shop at Supertarget

I only say this because of those dear friends from college. We have an email list called oddly enough "The List" where we all just talk about the most random things. One recurring topic is who is and who is not a yuppie. I know that the signs above would definitely put me into the yuppie category according to The List. Those guys are odd though; apparently being a homeowner also makes you a yuppie but working in a corporate setting doesn't. It's just comedy.

Seriously, I'm in an odd mood. I just spent the last 2 hrs cooking and food-processor-ing 5lbs of potatos and 5 lbs of sweet potatoes for the Manling. That really gets annoyingly boring after the first batch or two. Especially alone on a friday night- Mark is as usual working.

We got the zebra Britax Marathon carseat earlier this week and Mark installed it I think Tuesday. I really love it for it's amazing safety rating, the ability to hold up to a 65lb child, and of course the super fancy pattern. It's just weird getting used to carrying the Manling in and out of the house just holding onto him. I think I'm going to drop him in our dust bowl. I mean yard.

Other than getting our new couches- finally! I can't think of anything else exciting of late. Our old couch and chair were hand me downs of hand me downs of hand me downs. The couch was a ripped up and faded ugly floral print which I had hidden via a slipcover which constantly came up in the back and was a magnet for animal hair and crumbs, and the cushions were being sucked into the crease by the heavy as hell sleeper sofa within. So on Sunday we get to say goodbye to that forever. I can't wait.

This is the first time Mark and I have bought furniture ever. I feel like such adults!!!! Well, I guess we had bought a dining room table/chairs but we never ate there because we always ate on the couch and now we have to use the table to try to preserve this god awfully over-priced furniture for as long as possible. So it probably sounds really lame, but that's the big news out this way.

Now, in terms of the Manlings foods, I hrecently tried to get him to eat a mashed potato. Mashed potatoes are the trademark favorite food of my family, and so I thought the Manling would take right to them. He HATED them. Hated them to the point of crying and them throwing them back up. Mark suspects it was because they were just plain potato- no salt, no butter, no sour cream, no milk. Poor little guy. I'd probably hate them too. This is the first food he's had such a reaction to; usually the Manling will gladly eat anything I put in front of him just like his dad.

The Next One That Comes To Mind Is That Socialite Marie

2006-04-22T22:07:00.000-06:00

The last two days the Manling and I have been invited to a few social gatherings. I am posting about this only because I think the big hand of karma is coming for me.

Last night, we went to a double birthday party for these two dudes I worked with at the big box retailer. One of the guests was a young dude I did not know who had a green mohawk. The Manling looked at him for a bit, his lip quivered, and then he started to cry.

today we went to a birthday bbq for one of our birth-class moms. I have the Manling dressed in Old Navy jeans, a green The Childrens Place polo shirt, a hawaiian-type yellow and green Gymboree button up shirt on top of that, and matching yellow Old Navy sneakers. He looks very 80's yet also very preppy.

I think the Manling is going to grow up to be either a thug or a frat-boy. Not punk rock at all. People who know me keep asking me why he is always dressed in these yuppie clothes versus anything punk rock. Unfortunately, it is much cheaper to get those clothes rather than ones I'd like him to wear. I think I mentioned this before. I need to start my own t-shirt company.

Blecch

2006-04-20T11:46:00.000-06:00

So I am sick: some sort of either allergies or sinus infection. And even w/ the lotioned up tissues, it still feels like I'm blowing my nose w/ a burlap sack 50x an hour. And because I am breastfeeding, I'm supposed to contact a health professional before I take anything. Like I can be bothered with that and thus I am just suffering and whining.

Other new things: the Manling can sit up by himself better; he had about 10 days of being a complete PITA by not sleeping at night; ordered the zebra Britax which should arrive tomorrow; had high gusts of winds on Monday which blew huge tree branch onto a line which up to 5 min ago was laying down into my backyard: 1st we called the electric co- they came out and said it was a phone line but at least it was dead so we could move the tree; then we called the phone co who came out and said it was the cable co; so called them- thank god we have satellite so I wasn't out of tv service til now, and finally they removed it. And these blinds that we had to have special ordered for the Manling's room so he can finally move into his room and I can get my bed back are acting up so I may have to send them to get repaired when all I want is a new one made so I don't have light pouring in ruining all naps and I used to work in the special order blinds area at a certain big box retailer so I know it can happen but the company (not my hookups at at said retailer) say I just need to fiddle with it, not to mention the whole pull thing came completely off soI'm livid. And my windshield got a big rock-dinger in it so I had to get that fixed today. And my college is being a bunch of cakesniffers about this internship that I took almost 2 summers ago but haven't gotten a grade yet for so I don't know if I'll really graduate in spring. Did I mention I'm sick and feel like I'm dying?

Luanne is now 8 weeks pregnant, and went to her first doctor visit on Tuesday. She's been completely nauseous since Saturday night, and hadn't been able to keep anything whatsoever down since then, so she's vy dehydrated. Finally, yesterday, she got a prescription for anti-nausea medication. The kicker is that it's in the form of anal suppositories. I really can't stop laughing. I thought for sure that since she hadn't had morning sickness by now that she wasn't going to get it, especially since I did, and she's so young. I feel bad for her, but at the same time I kind of feel like she needs to suck it up a little. My friend L. had hyperemesis throughout her pregnancy, but she only got the anti-nausea drugs in the last trimester. I just read that the younger you are, the worse you get morning sickness. That's entirely opposite of what I thought. I did go buy some things for her from my favorite local used children's stores that is unfortunately going out of business. I hope she likes the stuff.

News Item

2006-04-06T21:30:00.000-06:00

My cousin, whom I shall name Luanne for the point of this blog, just announced she is pregnant. At least according to the EPT's she's taken. I'm a bit excited, but I want to wait a few weeks before I really talk about how I feel.

Other than that, I forgot how much I liked They Might Be Giants.

All Things Fanged

2006-04-01T22:30:00.000-07:00

My friend J. just sent the Manling a Nosferatu onesie in honor of the times we would watch the movie or have "theme" nights involving vampires. It's the coolest thing I've ever seen.

The Manling took it upon himself to grow in some teeths the past two days. The front bottom teeth have appeared; first his left, then his right. I didn't notice really any "teething" problems like sleeplessness, general PITA, or excessive drooling. What a stoic little dude!

And the last item that's tooth-related is that Mark and I went to see the Avs-Ducks hockey game on Tuesday. This was the first game we had seen since an unfortunate "incident" 5 years ago where we never got to see the 3rd period but did get to descend into the bowels of the Pepsi Center to the Dungeon, and thence to the Art Museum, as Mark claims. Once again, we did not get to see the 3rd period; one of the guys who went with us passed out during the second intermission, falling on his face in the bathroom. It wasn't due to alcohol - just a passing-out, very reminiscent of my cousin's first day of work. anyway, the dude broke his nose, a rib, and 2 teeth, breaking a few others, and requiring his lower lip to be sewed back onto his jaw and 2 trips to the ER.

So it has been quite the week for teeth around these parts.

Midterm Review

2006-03-23T19:30:00.000-07:00

The Manling reached the 24 week milestone this week. I can't believe he's 6 months old, in Mommy-speak, or will be in 2 weeks- the rest-of-the-world-speak. What an unbelievable journey!

At this point, he's rolled over, back to front about 7 or 8 times, usually only to his right side. Maybe like Zoolander, he is destined to become a male model who just can't turn left. People everywhere say he is awfully cute. I tend to agree, but don't want to sound biased. He does have the biggest, brightest blue eyes (thank you, Mark), a nicely-shaped round head (thank you birth canal and lower birth weight), and a mellow disposition (once again, thanks, Mark). He also, according to our doctor, has an unusually broad repertoire of facial expressions for a baby his age; at least that's what he said at his 4 month visit.

He has developed a wide, gummy smile, that he uses on everyone, but no teeth yet, although he does produce copious amounts of drool. He eats rice cereal, oatmeal cereal, bananas, applesauce, and as of today, sweet potatoes, all of which he eats voraciously, again much like his dad. He sits very regally in his Bumbo baby seat from which vantage point he can keep an eye out on his best friends, the cats and the dog. His favorite activities, besides watching his furry siblings, are banging one of his rattles along the Bumbo, breastfeeding, sucking on first 2 fingers of left hand, playing what I call the hand bongos, where he slaps his hands onto each other over and over and over, and screeching at the top of his lungs.

He is currently wearing medium-sized FuzziBunz diapers and 3-6 month clothes. The latter will be changing to 6-12 month size as soon as I can bear to pack up yet another set of tiny baby clothes. He used Pampers Cruisers in size 3 while we were in Vegas - we were amazed how well his clothes fit since they are not as bulky as the cloth diapers but really hatedthe way they felt as well as the chemical super absorbent polymer gel so close to his skin every minute. We have been using BabiesRUs's propreitary brand of wipes, Especially for Baby. These we've found preferable to other brands because they are made of real fabric, and are unscented. Of course, these are as much of a traditional fabric as that they print currency on, but better than the others. A few snuck into the loads of cloth diapers a few weeks back, and unlike the other types that disintegrate, these come out of the washer and dryer looking brand new. Thanks to the wonders of Google, I found several Wipe Juice recipes and have started reusing them. They also are great for cleaning up after feedings. Some, of course, just get too foul to consider washing. The wipe recipe I've been using is as follows:

1 plastic wipe tub
about 50-60 wipes, laundered and sterilized by a hot wash cycle
1/8 C light olive oil
2 Tbsp baby wash
2 C distilled water
10-20 drops tea tree oil
2 Tbsp Calendula lotion (I found this at Whole Foods)

Mix all liquids in a small bowl and place prefolded wipes into wipe tub. Pour mix over wipes.

The Manling is doing wonderful in all aspects except for sleeping. We have his crib in our room because his room gets a little colder than the rest of the house. He generally starts out sleeping in his crib, but when he inevitably wakes, I bring him into our bed to eat, and both of us fall asleep during of afterwards. His "schedule" is as follows:

Wakes around 9 or 10 am and plays with his hands and coos until Mommy cracks an eye open.
Breastfeeds.
Mommy checks email, blogs, etc while Manling plays on activity mat
BF a small snack
Between 11am to 1 pm: naps up to 2 hours but can be as short as 15 minutes; falls asleep wherever he is; sometimes will nap in crib
BF and sometimes will eat a small meal
Fart around the house or go on errands
BF
Sometimes will take an evening nap of 30 - 60 min.
Dinner: cereal plus a fruit or vegetable, BF to top off
Play with Daddy whe he gets home
About 10:30 pm gets sleepy, usually BF and drifts off. Will occasionally drift off by himself.
Wakes at least once, usually twice; will BF back to sleep.

Is this enough of a schedule? Is he getting enough sleep? I am torn between attachment parenting/co-sleeping and cry-it-out sleeping with baby-led scheduling. I just wish he would sleep longer.

Vegas Aftermath

2006-03-19T16:31:00.000-07:00

Well. We're back from Vegas. It was a strange trip. The Manling was exquisite, the very model of good behavior on both flights. My mom babysat him so we could go out with D&N on Friday night. We went to dinner at Nine Fine Irishmen at the New York New York Casino, then had some drinks at this bar called the Slanted Oyster or something... Twisted Oyster maybe?

Saturday, we ate THE BEST Carl's Jr ever: fried zucchini, chocolate malt shake, jalapeno 6 dollar burger, santa fe chicken sandwich, and nectar of the gods: Dr. Pepper. I only mention this because it was literally the best meal I've ever had practically. Then we hung out with D&N again, meeting their son, G., who is 15 months old and complete dwarfs the Manling. The two of them together looked like models for the master race- both blonde haired, blue-eyed, which the 4 of us are not. Well, I guess Mark is, but still. It was weird seeing a small child who was still so small yet so much bigger than our little dude.

Sunday we went to D.'s parents' house in Henderson. P&B were always so nice to me when I used to camp out at their house and extended hospitality again to us. D.'s brother S., his wife, K., and their 15 month old daughter, M. were there too. It was like a crazy reunion. I almost expected the other 2 sons to come in too, but one lives in San Francisco and the other in New York City.

Monday we headed out with the Nance and Vidalias and the other PA NASCAR fans to the Valley of Fire State Park, which featured tons of petroglyphs and the ubiquitous red rocks. I've never seen so many petroglyphs in one area. Some day I'll learn how to add photos to this thing.

We did a little Strip shopping on Tuesday. We tried to park at the Venetian to go to Sephora, but they had it blocked off. Mark said that some guy who worked there that he talked to said there was a potential car-bomb there, but I don't know if I believe that. We left later that day, after splurging on eye-shadow, and the Manling was, again, the best baby ever on the plane. I was so glad to be home though.

Vegas is NOT a fun town to go to if you have a baby with you. It would have been intolerable if we hadn't had family and friends to visit with. I was in bed by 10 or 11 pm every night. Mark seemed to have a really great time, though, and since Tuesday was his birthday, I'm glad we had gotten to go afterall. Mark played in a few poker tournaments with his friend, D., who had moved to Vegas a few months ago to become a poker dealer. Oddly enough, this was the first year we've gone that Mark had a losing streak. Usually he wins enough to pay for most of the trip. He blew his gambling budget by more than he should have (think Clark W. Griswald) so he's grounded from gambling until 2007. The trip was so anticlimactic, much like this post.

And so lastly, the Shuffle Playlist:

Patsy Cline: San Antonio Rose
A Flock Of Seagulls: I Ran
Frank Sinatra: All Or Nothing At All
NoFX: Shut Up Already
Elvis Presley: I Got A Woman
Kings Of Convenience: Gold In the Air of Summer
Millencolin: A Whole Lot Less
Sting: Angel Eyes
Jesse Dayton: Don't Take Yesterday
The Smiths : I Want The One I Can't Have

R.I.P. Buster

2006-03-09T10:00:00.000-07:00

So back in the day, D. decided to get a pitbull puppy from our tattoo artist, T. Buster was the cutest pitbull puppy ever. He was that reddish color that I love, unfortunately had his little ears cropped, and was the tiniest little puppy. He was the runt, but not for long! That puppy grew and grew and quickly out-weighed me. Dave took him everywhere and doted on that dog. I was a big fan of Buster even though he was much bigger than me. He was a great dog. I was hoping to see him on this visit but the following is what I received from N. today:

Sadly we had to put buster down. Buster had cancer. It was just devastating for us but especially D. I have never seen him so heartbroken and it's something I pray to god we will never go through again. He never let on that he was sick. He went out with D. for for his usual 5 mile hike. D. went to work and when I came home, he collapsed as I walked through the door. I took him to the vet and they x rayed and didn't see anything they thought he was bitten by something so they gave him a steroid shot and he seemed great that night but he wasn't. After countless tests and prayers we went to have surgery for him (they found a "hidden" masses on his organs.) but a final x ray showed one of the masses had opened and his heart was only working at 50% god I can hardly type this I haven't remembered this part of the story in a long time it was awful. We had to put him down it was jan 2nd 2004. We had him cremated and have his ashes with us.

I feel sad to hear this too. So this post is dedicated to Buster. Also, please check out: Sorry Again

Pre-vacation playlist

2006-03-09T09:30:00.000-07:00

This weekend, Mark, the Manling, and I are flying to Vegas. It will be the first time we fly with the Manling, and I am having a lot of anxiety about the "ordeal at the airport." That really sounds like a cage-fighting championship bout! I am really excited because my parents will be there, and they have agreed to babysit the Manling so Mark and I can go hang out with my friends D&N. I haven't seen them, except for a quick blur at our wedding, in about 10 years. I.Cannot.Wait. I can't even begin to explain it!!!!!

In honor of the upcoming vacation, here is an iTunes shuffle playlist:
Primus: Jerry Was a Racecar Driver
Bad Religion: Change of Ideas
Kings of Conveneience: Misread
Sheer Terror: Don't Hate Me Because I'm Beautiful
Beastie Boys: Posse In Effect
Bouncing Souls: Shark Attack
Antiheroes: Alcoholics Anonymous
Murder City Devils: Idle Hands
White Stripes: Apple Blossom
NoFX: Showerdays
Reverend Horton Heat: Big Little Baby
Distillers: Open Sky
Tom Waits: Goin' Down Slow
Screeching Weasel: My Right
Ella Fitzgerald: They Can't Take That Away From Me
The Clash: Ivan Meets G I Joe
Dropkick Murphys: CAptain Kelly's Kitchen
All: She's My Ex
Hawthorne Heights: Niki FM
Cursive: The Great Decay

The Missing 72 Hours

2006-02-27T11:43:00.000-07:00

I don't have an iPod. Mark does, and loves it. I don't need one because all of my music is right here on my computer, and god only knows I don't stray to far from it these days. I was always partial to Music Match over iTunes, because iTunes doesn't have the database infrastructure that I like. But Music Match has given me one-too-many "Error: this program will have to close messages" despite numerous upgrades. So iTunes it is. And to fully jump on the bandwagon, here is my iTunes shuffle. My rules - I only skip songs that are from music only Mark listens to and music I've recently downloaded, cough, and haven't decided if I'm done evaluating it or not. On with the show:

The Amazing Crowns: Mr Lucky
Hillbilly Hellcats: Hillbilly Cats
Misfits: Halloween
NoFX: My Heart Is Yearning
Screeching Weasel: I Don't Want To Be Friends
Dave Matthews Band: Crash
The Clash: Four Horsemen
Morrissey: Little Man, What Now
All: Scary Sad
Bouncing Souls: Chunksong

Interesting. Pretty much all punk songs today. I thought there'd be more country, rockabilly, and/or indie selections.

As it is, I doubt I'll even listen to these today because it's beautiful, sunny, and warm out today so the Manling and I will be going for a walk. But before I go, I need to share this. One of the perils of being a SAHM means you don't really need to know what day it is, name or number. All I knew this past week was that the end of the month was coming up. I made mental plans for the 29th, 30th, and 31st, only to realize a few days ago that they don't exist in February. It's like a time warp. I've lost 3 days. And I want them back!

The Hospitality Trap

2006-02-24T21:30:00.000-07:00

Here's another post by the lovely Tertia that I could've written word for word. My problem, like hers, is that I can't cook, and I desperately want to reciprocate for the dinner parties I have been to at K&R' s and M&E's houses. There is another one scheduled for next Tuesday at K&R's house. And to compound matters, A&C are also invited. So that makes 4 couples, and the 2nd dinner party held at K&R's house. Luckily, it's a potluck, and I'm going to make the ribollata (that's pretty close to her recipe) a la Rachael Ray. (God I love her!) I'm starting to feel really uncomfortable about this, though.

Not only do I not cook, I also don't entertain, plus I also don't have appropriate furniture. I know, it sounds stupid, and I should hope people would like me more than care about furniture.

Let me explain. When I moved out here, I had a dresser, a folding table, 4 folding chairs, a coffee table, a bookshelf, and a futon. Mark similarly didn't have much furniture. We've bought a few pieces here and there, and are especially fond of the dining room table. The problem though is that it's barstool height, and although it has a really nice leaf to make it bigger, we only have 4 chairs. Not really enough to go around for 8, or even 6 people. And we can never get any more because we got them as a special buy from the Home Despot. (I knew we should've gotten a few more!)

And our living room is dominated by a hulking entertainment center and 2 overflowing bookcases full of DVDs. These tend to pull the eye away from the other furniture that is in there: hand-me-downs. The first beauty is a blue velour-y type stuffed chair. Not very comfortable but will do in a pinch, although its primary function is to hold the mail I throw on it until I decide whether its immediately recycled or not. But the pièce de résistance is the Sleeper Sofa From Hell. It is :

Covered in a lovely very worn floral print, ripped in many places, yet covered by a lovely "velvet" chocolate brown slipcover, but peeks out jauntily at the corners as the slipcover creeps towards the center crack. Ever see Crooklyn? You know how the missing dog is found in the sleeper sofa? I find myself never allowing the Manling to be left alone on the sofa lest we never see him again
.Structurally deficient in the cushion area. Much like a bedgraggled grin on a jack-o'-lantern, the cushions will not line up in any semblance of order. The left cushion gamely tries to walk the line, the center is sucked into the pits of Hell (as noted above), and the right cushion sticks out, trying to kill itself and end its misery by plummeting to the floor below.
Usually coated with a fine patina of dog hair (although, she too, to protect her from disappearing, is not allowed on the couch), my hair (I shed about a pound a day), baby spit, and food crumbs. Because despite our love of the dinig room table, we eat primarily on the couch.

The furniture issue, combined with the I'm a lousy cook issue, has given me anxiety. Here I go and make some friends, only to alienate them by not reciprocating their hospitality. I read the comments to Tertia's post with such great anticipation. I LURVE the idea of a barbeque, but that is a few months off.

And did I mention the deplorable state of the yard? I think we have Denver's version of Love Canal back there. It must be a Superfund site because despite valiant efforts on Mark's part, grass refuses to grow. We first seeded the lawn. Then we put in an underground sprinkler system. Last year we even laid (layed? where is my grammar nazi??) sod to no avail. That I'm not so worried about though. This year, we will attempt more sod, after reducing the area by some cautious and optimistic xeriscaping. Or as we saw at the Home and Garden Show, we will purchase fake putting green grass. It looked so real! Much better than the Turf Paint in vogue a few years ago. Ok, I'm kidding, but desparate times call for desparate measures.

Myspace Junkie, Internet Stalking, and Las Vegas

2006-02-23T14:30:00.000-07:00

Ah yes, I must confess, I do it too. I recently found out that Myspace is owned by the Rupert Murdoch/FOX evil empire, and I still can't stop. Where indeed are my principles??

After thinking, which I have ample time to do since I don't work outside the home, about my current state of friends, I started remembering friends I've had in the past. And mostly how I'm a bad friend in terms of staying in touch, and how I've lost touch with many of my friends. I decided to do somthing about it.

First I utilized the services of the kind folks over at Switchboard.com to look up as much information for free that I could find for one of my accomplices back in high school, D. I knew he last lived in a particular city, and when they came to my wedding, I found out he was dating this woman, N., who we had also hung out with back in the twentieth century. Lo and behold, I found her name now had his attached to it!!! So I assumed they got married, and I sent off a brief letter to the last known address. About 3 weeks went by and I figuerd they had moved, and/or thought I was insane. When all of a sudden, I got a phone call from D., who said yes they had got married, had a 15mo. old son, and moved to Las Vegas!!!!! I've been messaging them via Myspace, and will probably hook up with them next month.

You see, every year for the last 10 yrs, my mom, the NASCAR fanatic (we call her Nascar Nance), and my stepfather (his handle is Vidalias- which is another post entirely) go to Las Vegas for the race. The last 3 years we've joined them but thought we couldn't go this year due to conflicts with Mark's vacation. I decided I was going to go anyway with the Manling so he could visit the grandparent units (GPUs), and I could visit D&N. Mark tells me after I tell him of my plot that his vacation runs concurrently with the GPUs' so we could all go. The deal-maker/-breaker will be what will we do with our dog for those few days. I'm really excited though. What a series of surprises. But wait, there's more!

When I originally set up my Myspace, I hadn't attached any schools, figuring I hated everyone I went to high school with, I completely lost touch with my 1st college friends, everyone I know from my 2nd college detests Myspace except for the few "friends" I already had, and my 3rd college was a waste of accredation by any educational review board. But after my thoughts reached back to high school, I realized there were a few people I missed. So I added the school and browsed the alumni. Lo and behold again, 2 (M. and J.) of the probably 5 people I honestly liked showed up. Messages with them, blah blah blah, and 1 of them just happens to be coming to Colorado next month and is going to look me up!!!

Motherfudger. I just looked up the dates J. will be in CO and of course it's during the same period as the potential Vegas trip. I will have to do some serious finagling to get this all to work. Must go spend some time diabolicizing now. Hmm.... What to do, what to do...

Not So Donna Reed

2006-02-17T21:15:00.000-07:00

BrooklynGirl wrote a post about being a SAHM that really hit the spot for me. And then my friend E. lent me this book called How She Really Does It. I want to talk about both.

So BrooklynGirl says she never really imagined herself as a SAHM. Me neither. I have 2 college degrees (both B.S. literally and figuratively, but still), and never really liked kids. And here I am. I don't feel like I'm doing all that great of a job with the Manling, and like she says, it seems like most of the highlights are just due to developmental milestones rather than what I have done. I love being at home with my son, and I am really grateful (to whom I wonder?) to be able to have this "luxury." I just kinda wonder why I'm not satisfied.

I didn't leave a fabulous career, I don't enjoy cooking or cleaning or other tasks involved in running a house, and I have no idea what to do to raise babies.

Maybe my dissatisfaction comes from the feeling that I am wasting my education. But honestly, I was doing that before I opted out of the paid workforce. I am very unhappy with my choices that up to pregnancy, I had not sought out any even entry-level jobs in my field. I so very much see myself doing work for either a smaller government or a non-profit agency in the planning field. I love everything I learned in the Land Use/Planning program, and although I don't want to be anything more than a basic user of G.I.S., it's a great tool to complement work in that field. And I worry that when I do go back to work, either through financial necessity or when the kiddo(s) is ready for school, that my marquee value will be zero and I will be unwanted.

I had worked for the last 5 years in a big box home improvement store, and was good at what I did. I was the go-to-gal, the one who had all the answers. It was easy, I could get away with murder and do my own thing. Although I wasn't doing anything in my field, I was good at what I did. Now I don't even have that sort of feeling. I am a miserable housekeeper.

I started feeling guilty that Mark has to work so hard at his big box retail job to support the three of us and then come home to an unkempt wife, cluttered house, and have to forage for his own food. So I've been trying to do more around the house. Attacking the clutter was pretty easy, and I'm slowly whipping the house into shape. And I try to get out of pajamas and look decent by the time he gets home, but feeling depressed doesn't help that out. And then I'm trying to cook more.

Before I get to the cooking adventures, let me finish up about that book I mentioned earlier. I bugged E. to let me borrow it because I thought that it would give me some idea about how to balance my home duties and job duties when I do go back to work. And I thought it might inspire me and tip the scales to me going back. Wrong on all sides. The example of the "She" who's "really doing it" that comes to mind: Vera F-ing Wang. Like she, or really any of the women profiled, is at all typical of my life experience or that of my friends. We have to work. I don;t consider myself working class, but more solidly middle class. The women in that book "do it" by having staff, and the kind of jobs that allow the most flexibility like AM news anchors or upscale bridal designers. Sure there were some attorneys and doctors, but still. These people have probably 6-figure incomes. What about us, the little people? I was thoroughly disenchanted and even more depressed after reading that book.

On a more positive note, I found a book I truly love: Rachael Ray 365: No Repeats--A Year of Deliciously Different Dinners (A 30-Minute Meal Cookbook). My cousin got me into watching her show and I was pretty impressed that she made practical meals that looked delicious and fancy from start to finish in the 30 minutes her show aired. And she didn't use frou-frou ingredients. I saw the book when I was out at my "friendly" Sam's Club (that's another post) and picked it up. Out of the 365 recipes, I think I marked over 150 as things I would possibly eat, which is an amazing amount for a cookbook for me.

I've made 3 so far: pretzel coated chicken, a stale bread tomato soup, and prosciutto, garlic and herb cheese chicken roll-ups. All were very very good. And I made them all with only a little bit of anxiety, and Mark's assistance. I call him the Big Cheese when he helps, which is a throwback to my old 7th grad Home Ec class days.

But I get pissed off at myself. I don't want to be a good housekeeper or to be a good cook. I don;t feel like those things are what I want to be good at. I'm reluctant in so many ways to be a SAHM because I don't like that stuff. I HATE HATE HATE doing dishes more than almost anything. (Ironing being the only home-related thing that comes to mind that I hate more.) I enjoy time with my little Manling, and wouldn't give that up for anything. So I don't grin, but I bear it.

I feel like an anacronism, a throwback to the Donna Reed era. I feel like staying home is a smack in the face to my feminism and feel dis-empowered. Yet at the same time I feel like I should be grateful, like I said, that I have the opportunity to stay at home. I only wish that I could feel like I'm not "just" staying at home, not "just" a mom, etc. I wish that doing this most important job of raising the youth of today was something that society thought was financially equitable, socially important, and most especially, something that would make me feel like I'm still an important part of the world. It's rough.

Old Number 2

2006-02-02T11:57:00.000-07:00

We had birth class reunion on tuesday night. Eight of the ten babies and most of their parents came. Of those, only 3 were born vaginally, and only 3 were girls (not the same ones). Everyone breast fed, or at least gave breast milk for the first two months, and at least 5 of us were still going strong, tho one mom was still an exclusive pumper. And only 2 of us were cloth-diapering. It was really interesting to see all the babies and to notice how the personalities of the women came out if full effect now that we weren't pregnant and miserable. There's a rumour that there will be a 6 month reunion, too, but I doubt it.

The topic of second children came up. I heard a few people talking about how this is it for them. I was surprised by that only because in my experience, having this child o' mine has been the most amazing and wonderful experience. And I was never a child/baby person. The Manling has been such a wonderful baby: so happy and pleasant; no colic or attitude or problems. I think a lot about baby number 2. Depending on our financial situation, I would consider trying again starting in May. I guess we'll see.

I'm really enjoying instant messaging. I like being able to talk to people without actually having to voice things concstantly, since I'm so bad at small talk, and it's nice to be able to ignore or end conversations if something else is going on. My cousin says it's nice I'm talking to real people rather than just reading about the ones whose blogs I follow. I wish I could IM w/ some of them - like my blogging heroes Julie and the G&D Tertia . They write so wonderfully, with such wit and verve and humour.

Boring. Boring. Exterminate. Exterminate!

2006-01-30T14:05:00.000-07:00

Why, oh why, am I blogging? I have realized that I'm not witty, I don't have funny stories, and I don't really have any problems.

I seem to spend a lot of time on the internet. I read blogs, I download music (only legal files, I swear), I email people.

I actually just got IM tho, so now I can talk w/ my fam back east more.

But one piece of great news is that my cousin finally moved out so we now have our whole basement back. I moved my computer and most of the Manling's toys down there as she was moving her stuff out. I will miss her being around, but it's so good to get the space back!

Saturday Night's All Right For Blogging

2006-01-21T22:21:00.000-07:00

The problem with having an infant and a husband who is a manager in a retail big box store is that Saturday night's tend to be kinda boring. Not tonight, though. Tonight I found all sorts of really rad mp3s on the net. Many Colin Meloy and Decemberists songs, and some Jawbreaker and Modest Mouse covers. Check out some of the blogs I have listed in my new Lullabies link section.>>>>>
The Manling and I are having a sing-along dance-party.

I feel a little guilty because I blew off one of my friends tonight*, especially after the last two posts. I'm an asshole. I admit it.

*Edited to say, the friend I blew off by not answering the phone when she called, had left a message then saying her husband had made plans unbeknowst to her for the night. so I'm not an asshole, I'm just clairvoyant!

Dinner Party

2006-01-20T13:22:00.000-07:00

Oddly enough, after that last post, I think I've had some improvement on the friends front. Wednesday night, Mark, the Manling and I went over to K&R's house for dinner, also meeting up with E&M, and each couple's baby. We met them at our birth class. The six of us have all said we didn't expect to make friends at that class; hell, we didn't expect to even like it!

It truly is wonderful to have some women to talk to who are going through the same situations that I am learning how to be a mother. We all are in our early 30s, all have first babies, and they are all sons. R. and I are breastfeeding and staying at home; E. was an exclusive pumper for the first 3 months and has since gone back to work part-time and has switched to formula. We shared dinner and drinks and talked all night about how the boys have changed us, emotionally, hormonally, physically, economically, career-wise, etc. This helped push back the nagging monsters in my head a bit.

The funniest moment came when the Manling was face to face with E&M's baby, A. He's the youngest and the smallest, but has the most hair. He was looking at Manling, reaching out, and chatting. For some reason, the Manling started looking concerned and started to cry. Every time A. tried to be friendly, Manling would cry. It was a riot. In contrast, the Manling was fine when he was around K&R's baby, L., who is the middle baby but the largest.

Mark and I talked when we got home about how surprised we are to have made friends like this. Normal people we call them- not barhoppers, punkrawkers, skateboarders, or deviants. And how good it feels. And at least on my part, I feel like they actually give a crap about me.

K. had made a comment at dinner about how it was nice to have "dog people" over so they wouldn't have to put their dog away. I felt exactly the same way about these "baby people." It's so wonderful to have friends who acknowledge my baby and want to see him and us.

And I'm not sure if it's because I'm a mother now: went through all the humbling changes during pregnancy and labor and learning how to love and care for an infant, but I feel like I'm softening up. I don't feel so bothered by the little stuff anymore; I'm more laidback, humble, and open to change. I still feel awkward when making small talk, but I think that will come in time. Plus I always have the Manling to talk about. I'm still too shy to try to join the local mommies group, though.

Both couples have the most amazing older houses that they've extensively remodelled. They are much larger than ours, and definitely less cluttered. Both women are also really good cooks. I want to invite them over, to reciprocate, but I'm really nervous. I feel inadequate in a few areas.

Living room is tiny. There's no place to sit for 6 adults, and our couch/chair are mismatched, really old, and the cushions are messed up structurally.
Dining room ditto on tiny. Have only 4 chairs. Not so big of a deal but they're bar stool height and I haven't found extras I like.
Kitchen tiny as well, but that's not the issue. The issue being: I can't cook. At all. Seriously. What the hell would we serve????
Bathroom is still being remodelled since before the Manling was born. Not an issue because we talked about that in our birth class introduction and we've been joking about it ever since.

I'm sure all this sounds not as serious as it is to me. I don't want to appear trashy. I want to keep these friends. I don't care about impressing them- that's not the issue. I just want to present a decent appearance.

I know "stuff" isn't what makes or keeps friendships. Me not working gives me more time to work on our house, just less capital to do it with. But the to work or not to work is another post. I'm content to be making friends for now.

Friends

2006-01-16T17:17:00.000-07:00

My friends from college came to visit over this last week. I haven't seen C. & J. for a few years, but being with them really made me feel like I had only seen them just yesterday. Friendships like that are awesome.

I've been thinking a lot about the way to make friends since I read a post on that same topic on one of the great blogs I link to over there.>>>>>>
(Of course I don't remember which one since Babybrain has taken over.) Of course, my friends coming to visit and then leaving (assholes) made me consider my dearth of friends as well.

I've never been really good at making friends. When I was growing up, I was an only child, and I didn't really get too much interaction with other kids besides in school. And I was, and still am, pretty shy. Any one who knows me who would read this would probably scoff at that, and same I'm obnoxious and really out-going, but that's just a clever ruse to hide my inability to make small talk or invite people to do stuff with me. I've lived in Colorado for almost six years now and I think I have made about two friends who I actually call/hang out with semi-regularly.

I used to think I was seriously an alien from outer space. Now that I've given birth to an obviously human baby, that theory is shot and I must face up to the fact that I'm just socially inept. I think that's why I like blogging: I can say things, and read other things, and no one thinks I'm a weirdo (assumption is that no one has read this blog yet.)

Mark on the other hand, is completely charismatic and friendly. He can make friends like nobody's business in about five minutes from meeting them. I truly envy him and hope the Manling gets that characteristic from him.

C. told me that she started going to Adult Children of Alcoholics meetings. I was really surprised by that because she always seemed so together and with it, not to mention confident, friendly, and stable. I told her that both my parents are alcoholics and she said I'd probably benefit from going to meetings too. I just checked out the website http://www.adultchildren.org/ and found some interesting things in their description:

We had come to feel isolated, and uneasy with other people, especially authority figures. To protect ourselves, we became people pleasers, even though we lost our own identities in the process. All the same we would mistake any personal criticism as a threat.
We either became alcoholics ourselves, married them, or both. Failing that, we found other compulsive personalities, such as a workaholic, to fulfill our sick need for abandonment.
We lived live from the standpoint of victims. Having an over developed sense of responsibility, we preferred to be concerned with others rather than ourselves. We got guilt feelings when we trusted ourselves, giving in to others. We became reactors rather than actors, letting others take the initiative.
We were dependent personalities, terrified of abandonment, willing to do almost anything to hold on to a relationship in order not to be abandoned emotionally. We keep choosing insecure relationships because they matched our childhood relationship with alcoholic or dysfunctional parents.
These symptoms of the family disease of alcoholism or other dysfunction made us 'co-victims', those who take on the characteristics of the disease without necessarily ever taking a drink. We learned to keep our feelings down as children and keep them buried as adults. As a result of this conditioning, we often confused love with pity, tending to love those we could rescue.
Even more self-defeating, we became addicted to excitement in all our affairs, preferring constant upset to workable solutions.

I can relate to many of these things, and now I'm wondering if this might have anything to do with my inability to make friends. I don't think I'd ever go to meetings like this, however.

Little man is crying, so until next time....

Birth Story Part II

2006-01-15T15:46:00.000-07:00

Stage Two
My next contraction didn't feel any more intense like I thought it would; however, I still had that feeling like I had to push something out of me that second or I would die. It seems like everything after my water breaking took only about 30-45 minutes so things were really progressing fast. I was definitely very fortunate in that aspect. W. hadn't left my side since I entrenched myself on the bed with the "gottapoop" sensation, and after checking my cervix when my water broke, started paging the desk to get Dr. M. there immediately. Somewhere in the recesses of my brain, which had reverted to lizard-stage to cope with the pressure, I understood that to mean that I was going to pop that baby out really soon. It seemed like my contractions were coming one right after the other but I think that was because I still wasn't relaxing very well between them. I asked for drugs (only once more and I'd get them) but only as a means of making Mark realize how much pain I was feeling; I knew that at this far along I wouldn't be allowed to get any of those fine narcotics because they'd affect the baby.

Finally, it seemed, Dr. M. came into the room and put on his scrubs. As soon as he had, he came over and fisted me as well, although I could've told him I was definitely ready to push. And push we did. Meaning I attempted to hold both of my legs up in the air, while simultaneously holding my breath, pushing, and hollering. I wasn't so good at it. In birth class, we had practiced but I never did it at home. I was great at hollering, which got me immediate chastisement from W., Dr. M, and Mark. So W. and Mark both pushed back on the legs while I did the pushing. I will never think constipation is hard ever again - pushing was defintely way more challenging. During one "rest" between contractions, I asked how big the head was and asked what my chances were that I would tear. I then told Dr. M. that I'd take my chances on tearing, knowing the baby was not a giant, and opted out of the episiotomy.

It seemed to take forever for the head to even get close to crowning, but I'm told that it happened after about three pushes. I was convinced that the baby was out by this point but instead was told that if I reached down I could feel the top of his head. I really didn't want to, but I did, only to feel this very weird sensation. It felt at first impression as if I has a few extra sets of labia, and then as though the entire Rocky Mountains were sticking out of my vagina but covered in hair. I'm assuming that was the skull plates all compressed. It wasn't thrilling in the least and all I wanted to do was get my baby out.

Birth
Two more pushes or so later, and the Manling was born. I didn't feel any sensation as he passed through the birth canal and out into the world as I thought I would, neither physical (except intense pressure) nor emotional. I think I was in shock - I've never had that intense pain before and I was too exhausted to even feel relief. I laid there just trying to get my breath back to normal to really even think any thoughts. I think I only acknowledged any of it by saying, "Don't forget to cut the cord, Mark." It wasn't until they wrapped up in a blanket and put him on my chest that I really understood that I had had a baby. And then I felt amazed at what had happened and started feeling some love towards this little person all my own.

10/3/2005
6 lbs 13.9 oz
18" long
12:32 p.m.

Afterbirth and other stuff
This next part is definitely not in any chronological order:
I had to get several stitches because I did indeed tear. Maybe 6 or 60.... some were at the perineum area and I also had a few on each side of my labia. I remembered hearing somewhere that it took a while until your body expels the placenta but I think immediately after was born and Mark cut the cord that Dr. M. pulled the placenta out by the cord. It was a delightfully non-pressure event and felt warm and painless. Mark says my memory of Dr. M. pulling it our hand over hand like pulling on a rope is wrong but that's how I experienced it. Dr. M. showed Mark all kinds of stuff about the placenta while I was lying there recouping and the was getting checked out. I remember trying to look over and verify he had ten fingers and toes and genitals all in the right places and then just closing my eyes until they put him on me. latched on right away and started breastfeeding and that was a relief. He had had an excellent Apgar score of 9.9. I could not believe I went through this whole process with no drugs. It was amazing to myself and to Mark. W. and Dr. M. also congratulated me for making it to my goal.

After some period of time I was allowed to get up and shower in that great Jacuzzi tub, even though I felt like Carrie from Steven King as I bled profusely everywhere. And then the fancy mesh panties to hold up the ungodly enormous menstrual pads - definitely very chic. I ate voraciously and then got moved to our recovery room, pushing 's bassinet thing as I walked down the hall. I felt great, just very, very tired, and took a nap while Mark accompanied to the nursery for his first bath. We spent that night in the hospital, feeding, changing the meconium- aka black tar-filled diapers, and in Mark's case getting hosed down. We were also interrupted about a thousand times by all the staff. When I woke up the next morning, I was dying to be released from the hospital , and we finally got the go ahead about 5:30p.m.

And that concludes my birth story. I am so thankful I had a healthy baby, a relatively uneventful pregnancy, and a complication-free and drug-free delivery.

Birth Story Part I

2006-01-07T21:30:00.000-07:00

My due date was October 8th, and it was really accurate because I know when we conceived. The problem was: Mark and I were married October 5, 2002, and I was really concerned about sharing a birthday and an anniversary date. I know, I'm selfish, but I'd rather have the two separated by a few days. So October 1st came and went. I went to work that day, Saturday, but only stayed for two hours before

I went home.

Then Sunday October 2nd came. Mark was working, and after work I made
him go to a concert with his old colleague, and coincidentally, one of my managers, J., because it was his birthday and he had tickets to see System of A Down. I insisted Mark go because J.'s wife didn't want to go, and it was his birthday and all that. Plus, it was at the Pepsi Center, and was all ages so I figured he'd be home by 12:15 at the latest.

Mark told me when he got home: he met up with J. who was hammered, and they saw SOAD and Mars Volta. Mark had never heard of either of the two bands, and didn't really care for them. After the show, J. wanted to go to Shotgun Willie's, a local strip joint, and his friend, a manager there, comped their food and admission. Mark then said the manager was dressed up in an Evel Knieval a la "Matt Knieval" outfit and had a small 50cc dirtbike in the club. J. had told Mark it was a 250cc bike so Mark said he definitely had to go see this. This being: he was going to jump it off a ramp over a cookie sheet with flaming Matchbox cars on it - IN the club. The first time, Matt Knieval jumped over the tray, crashed the bike into a table, and fell over. The second attempt, he cleared the jump, did an endo, and then crashed it into a table. Mark said it was hysterical. They left after that debacle and Mark had to drive J. home to Parker, which is a suburb very far to the southeast. Due to T-REX construction on I-25, several of the on-ramps were closed so they had to drive all over hell and creation. Mark finally dropped J. off only to discover the northbound on-ramps were also closed. So he called me, lost in suburban hell and related his adventures as he navigated home.

Mark arrived at 2:30am and continued telling me about his night. I was rolling on the floor hysterically laughing. Finally, he finished the story and I told him that I had polished off the delicious salsa one of his associates had made us, and that my stomach felt funny. I had been having very, very mild contractions for a few weeks, with no regularity. I told him that I was having kind of regular contractions, and he told me it was probably due to the salsa and that we should go to bed. He had to work at eight and was already thinking he wouldn’t get enough sleep that night. I wasn’t in pain so I agreed.

Early Labor
At 4am, I woke up – not unusual for a nine month pregnant woman, right? Except this time, I felt these contractions. They were uncomfortable but not painful. I woke up Mark who tried to tell me it was the salsa again. I told him he was wrong and made him time some contractions which were only 30 seconds long and about 5-8 minutes apart. Then, he said, “Remember in birth class, they said to try to sleep until the contractions are one minute long, four minutes apart, for one hour.” I tried to go back to sleep, but the contractions went from uncomfortable to painful, and woke Mark up again. I felt like this was probably “it,” but was pretty calm.

Mark snoozed ‘til around 6am, when I made him time more contractions. They were about 30-50 seconds long and 3-6 minutes apart. We decided since I was in pain but not unbearable, that we’d wait ‘til 7am to call Dr. M., so I took a shower, drank water, and ate pineapple chunks, which were the only things that sounded appetizing to me. I also called my mom to let her know.

Actually, I took about three or four showers. The steam and water felt really, really good. I also spent a lot of time sitting on the toilet thinking I had to pee. Nope. But I did get the “bloody show,” and that really made me think this was the real deal. What was Mark doing? Snoozing intermittently.

Finally, it was 7am, and I made Mark call the doctor’s office. Of course, they opened at eight so I decided I would try to make it ‘til then. I was convinced I was just at 1 or 2cm dilation and at birth class they said to try to stay at home as long as you feel comfortable so you don’t get sent home as being not ready. I took a few more showers and the contractions held steady in duration and frequency but got worse in pain.

Active Labor
Eight o’clock came and Mark again called the doctor’s office. What he claims he told me at the time but I don’t remember, so I only “found out” last month, was that Dr. M. was off that day. All I knew was that a few minutes later, I was talking to Dr. M. and he told me I could go into the hospital.

I was, of course, packed, and had been for the 2+ weeks since the low amniotic fluid scare when I was convinced they were going to induce me immediately. We set off for the hospital using Mark’s chosen route, which I had finally admitted was quicker after seven months of squabbling. I sat in the back seat where I held on with white knuckles because by this point I was very, very uncomfortable.

We got to the hospital and to the Baby Place... that's what they call it, really, about 9:30am. There was a clan of people st the registration desk who seemed to be taking forever. By this point I really was overwhelmed with all kinds of thoughts:

impending death - fetal or mine
pain
epidural causing paralysis
c-section
and oh my god I'm having a baby!!!!

So I started bawling. The wait just sent me over the edge and I was hysterical. The nurses took me into the triage/examination area where they did my blood pressure and attached fetal monitors and asked me a thousand questions that I tried to have Mark answer.

I finally calmed down and W., the delivery nurse tried to put in the IV attachment thing: heparin lock? I, hating needles, shut my eyes. She put the rubber hose around my left arm and told me it would "work better if I opened and closed blah blah blah" as I had another contraction. I thought she meant my eyes for some reason so I blinked copiously until we all realized I was not clenching my fist. That ridiculousness took the edge of my tension and I relaxed. But then after rooting around in my left arm for what felt like ever, the nurse told me I had bad veins. I had always thought I had good veins because they pop out like crazy all the time. Apparently, I have gaskets every half-inch or so and the IV needle wouldn't lie in properly. On to the right arm where I was gouged and failed to get it in again. On the third try, we had success.

W. then fisted me, I mean checked my cervix. Amazingly, I was at 6cm. This was great news to me because I had made it so far with no drugs. I told her that my biggest concern was to avoid the epidural, but that I might consider narcotics. And so I graduated to a labor and delivery room. I was so relieved that I had made it half way that I started taking note of my surroundings. The Baby Place delivery rooms are very posh. Hardwood floors, decorative drop ceilings, CD players, wood cabinets, baby warmers built into the walls, and other amenities, including a Jacuzzi. I hopped immediately into it.

The Jacuzzi represented another personal milestone for me. I wanted to use it to relieve my pain since I had heard such great things during birth class, and I knew I could only use it as long I wasn't hooked up to/on any medications. The massage action, the sound, the water pressure, the cool side of the tub for me to lay my face on, the grab bar to clench, all helped the contractions to go by without being unbearable. To pass the time, Mark fanned me and read from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire which we have been reading out-loud to each other forever now.

Transition
After about an hour and a half (11am?), I started to feel intense pressure like I had to poop or push something out of my nether regions. I knew from birth class that this meant active labor was over and that transition was starting, and in class the instructor stressed NOT to push. The contractions became unbearable and I clenched up my belly muscles, screamed and hollered, and felt just plain awful. Mark got W. who fisted me again. She said I had progressed to 8cm. I decided to get back into the Jacuzzi until I went insane or demanded drugs, whichever came first.

For a while longer (time ceasing to have meaning for me), I sat in the Jacuzzi and tried to listen to Mark read, but the pressure was really, really intense. I finally couldn't stand it and laid on the bed while Mark got the nurse. I knew at that point that I wasn't getting out of that bed again. I was still at 8cm, and this was a crushing blow. How could I have stopped?!? W. explained she could break my amniotic sac and that would probably make me progress, but I told her no, knowing that the contractions would get even more intense. I knew I wouldn't be able to hold out from serious drugs if it got much worse.

I laid there, suffering, and couldn't get myself to relax between contractions because I was so tense from the effort not to push. I asked for drugs for the first time - I made Mark promise me I had to ask for drugs three times before I could get them, just like Susan & Steve in Coupling. W. told me to "go with it" and bear down to see if that would make my PUSH! feeling ease up. I bore down with the next contraction when whoosh! My water bag finally broke and spewed everywhere. It seriously was like someone had broken a water balloon from inside my vagina: same popping sound, same enormous amount of water, same amazed look on both Mark and my faces. It's good thing I had been covered by a sheet or else the fluid probably would've hit the wall on the other side of the room... seriously. W. fisted me yet again, causing the usual enormous amount of pain, but the good news was that I was at 10cm!!!!

First time always hurts

2006-01-06T15:37:00.000-07:00

So I finally did it; created the blog. I'm such a procrastinator, and I wanted to make a record of my memories of my son since he was born. The first week went by, then the first month, then two, then three. Finally it was New Year's Day, and although I don't make resolutions... I mean, honestly, who keeps them?... he had passed the 90 day mark. Somehow it's six days later but I did it. Riveting stuff, eh?

From the beginning:
My pregnancy was pretty uneventful. We always joked that 2005 was the Year We'd Make Babies. January came and during my estimated ovulation time, we did the deed, for what I felt was merely practice. About a week later, I peed on the stick test just to see if we'd conceived, though I was sure we hadn't. I mean, besides "oops!" pregnancies, who ever gets pregnant right away? At least that's what I thought. The test was negative so I smugly told Mark he was shooting blanks. I was honestly relieved because I really wasn't sure if I was ready for kids yet.

But I started feeling strange. I had this weird metallic taste in my mouth all the time, and when we'd go out to bars, I'd have A (as in one) beer which I couldn't finish because it tasted odd. Mark and I were supposed to have a long weekend off together (we both worked retail so that was a rarity) but someone else had taken it off at his work so he couldn't. I finally decided to fly back to Pennsylvania (PA) for my stepfather's surprise 60th birthday party. I talked to my mom one day on the way home from work, and she said she had told Lee (SF) I was coming home because I was going to tell them I was pregnant. She didn't know about 2005 being the Year of the Baby-making, and I had had that negative test so I just laughed. When I got home, since I had to pee really bad, and I still hadn't gotten my period (but I wasn't worried since I'm not too regular), I peed on test #2 and set it to the side. I was thinking just in case I was pregnant I didn't want to go back East and tear it up with all my friends from college. I finished up and picked up the test, expecting it to be negative. Well, it wasn't. I looked at the double pink lines and thought, "oh. wow. hmm. look at that," in a state of disbelief almost while everything fell into place.

Telling them:
I yelled for Mark to come into the bathroom, handed him the test, and said, "what do you think that is?" Keep in mind I hadn't told him I was taking another test, and did have a negative one already. But he says, "I don't know.... a toothbrush?" That totally took the shock away from me and I started laughing. He explained later that since I was leaving for PA the next day he thought I had gotten a travel toothbrush. We, of course, were ecstatic, and a little sad I was leaving for the weekend. That's me; impeccable timing.

I went to PA and ended up throwing up all over things in front of my parents right before the party. They kept giving each other significant looks that I missed because I was vomiting. At the party, which was a surprise, I spilled my guts; both literally and my secret. Everyone was surprised after all. And I ended up not having morning sickness but a very violent double-ended stomach virus.

The First Trimester:

Cranky
Pukey
Big swollen boobs
Bad taste in mouth
Started looking at names- baby provisionally called Cletus the Fetus

No great anecdotes. Well, no funny ones.
Some memorable ones: Mark got to see my cervix, and cried when we first heard the heartbeat. I, of course, remained stoic.

The Second Trimester:

Still cranky
Big swollen boobs being met by swollen stomach
Depression over not fitting into my clothes anymore
Pukey through 4th month

Highlights:

17week Ultrasound: showed a human not an alien!!! We chose not to find out the gender.

PA Baby Shower: lots of friends, relatives, and loot!!!! Plus my friend Eve did this crazy New Age pendulum thing over my belly and predicted a boy. I was pretty convinced I was having a girl, but my dreams at night were always of a boy.

Blood test: for Down's etc showed little risk!!!! I was a bit worried about that, and was a nightmare the week between the test and the results.

Birthday: turning 30 wasn't so painful because I felt miserably pregnant and that took my mind off of it. Plus I got some fancy diamond stud earrings. Bling!

The Third Trimester

Fat
Crankiest
Hot as Hell
Insanity struck and I began to play XBox
Insomnia

Highlights

Bathroom Remodel: still not done yet but slowly coming along

Birth Class: we thought this would be a nightmare, but instead we loved it!!!! Janet Grabe taught us and 9 other miserably pregnant couples all sorts of pain mitigation techniques and loads of information about labor and delivery. We love Janet. She's a doula and I would highly recommend her. Not only that, but we actually like two of our Birth Class couples.

Jesse Dayton: played at Benders Tavern and I waddled out to see him. He talked to Mark and I after the show and rubbed my belly like a Buddha.

My Mom Visited: we had a great time and went to a Chili Festival and saw the Railbenders.

Bad News: the doc said I looked pretty small for my gestational age at 35-36 weeks. I thought he was nuts since I gained almost 40 lbs. He sent me for an ultrasound to measure my amniotic fluid.

Ultrasound #2: Since I had been running around with my mom and not drinking enough water (Hello- no water in means no 300 zillion trips to the can to let it out. I'm not dumb. Or so I had thought.) I did indeed have low amniotic fluid. Which meant:

Bed Rest and freak out: for a week while I guzzled water, lay on the couch, watched movies, sweated, and played XBox. No work was awesome but staying still was intolerable. A week later:

Ultrasound #2 cont: I had told the technician "we hadn't found out the gender at our earlier scan, but if we (meaning Mark or I) saw anything today, it was ok." WE did not include the technician, who before we knew it, told us we were having a boy. The waterworks went on again with Mark. My first reaction: "oh no, TUBESOCKS" aka the bane of my existence. I didn't mind knowing by that far along in the game, and we kept it under wraps from most people. At least we could work more on the name.

Fetal Stress Test: a week more of low-key activity and then back to the hospital where we passed this test with flying colors.

That's enough for now- it brings us up to October- the Month Where Shit Went Down.