Boogers. Drool. Red Cheeks. Cough.
'nuff said.
Have a good weekend.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
Arts and Crafts
I did some organizing this weekend. And yes, I *might* be a little crazy, but hey, glitter is always fun.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Friday.
Where have I been all week? Not doing much, really, and in the interest of trying to be a better and more proficient mother, especially now with the Lent, I'm trying to limit my computer time more. The children are playing dominoes happily at my feet, so I'm justifying the blog at the moment.
I have spent hours of time on the computer this week though, searching and searching for anything that might pop up with my the health of my little guy. No, nothing is wrong right now, at least not any more wrong than it has been since he was born, but every once in awhile between his appointments I'll notice a new symptom; Paul will show something more that I hadn't seen before, and I'll be off googling for hours. And me, with little more than an interest and a small amount of common sense, am reckless when it comes to looking up medical information. Let's just say that I get a little ahead of myself.
But still, it's weird. Baby struggles with his digestion. I can't figure it out, which means I can't fix it. Blood work, allergy testing, and a barium enema--nothing. No diary, prune juice, yogurt, more juice, more fruit, more vegetables--whatever it is, whatever I do, it doesn't really matter. In some ways that's good, because I've basically given up on eliminating any foods from my diet or his, and then when he has a bout I chalk it up to chance, knowing that he has the same old foods everyday.
Last night was one particular night. He became restless and irritable after dinner. I put him to bed, and while he's been sleeping well, by 3am he was up more times than I kept track of. Poor baby's tummy hurt. Mark then graciously took him to the couch; daddy's chest a consolation for painful gas and tummy cramps.
And that's been our life for the past ten months. We have a small-stature infant with digestive issues who has the funkiest dirty diapers you've ever seen. And yet, there's not really anything wrong at this point, at least that we can put a label on. I'm not complaining about it, on the contrary we've been blessed with two healthy children. Sometimes I just wish I had the assurance to either stop making something out of nothing or to keep pursuing answers.
For today...
I have spent hours of time on the computer this week though, searching and searching for anything that might pop up with my the health of my little guy. No, nothing is wrong right now, at least not any more wrong than it has been since he was born, but every once in awhile between his appointments I'll notice a new symptom; Paul will show something more that I hadn't seen before, and I'll be off googling for hours. And me, with little more than an interest and a small amount of common sense, am reckless when it comes to looking up medical information. Let's just say that I get a little ahead of myself.
But still, it's weird. Baby struggles with his digestion. I can't figure it out, which means I can't fix it. Blood work, allergy testing, and a barium enema--nothing. No diary, prune juice, yogurt, more juice, more fruit, more vegetables--whatever it is, whatever I do, it doesn't really matter. In some ways that's good, because I've basically given up on eliminating any foods from my diet or his, and then when he has a bout I chalk it up to chance, knowing that he has the same old foods everyday.
Last night was one particular night. He became restless and irritable after dinner. I put him to bed, and while he's been sleeping well, by 3am he was up more times than I kept track of. Poor baby's tummy hurt. Mark then graciously took him to the couch; daddy's chest a consolation for painful gas and tummy cramps.
And that's been our life for the past ten months. We have a small-stature infant with digestive issues who has the funkiest dirty diapers you've ever seen. And yet, there's not really anything wrong at this point, at least that we can put a label on. I'm not complaining about it, on the contrary we've been blessed with two healthy children. Sometimes I just wish I had the assurance to either stop making something out of nothing or to keep pursuing answers.
For today...
Friday, February 12, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Deals, etc.
If you're a Wal-Mart shopper, or just like to save money in general, here is my brand new favorite website!
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
...And all that Jazz
I've never been a fan of the phrase "me time." Regardless of the intention, the phrase alone sounds selfish, and rather than a recuperative respite from the rigors of rearing rambunctious rascals, it gives the impression of wanting to escape from the realities of family life.
However, it seems that no matter how you put it, there does seem to come a point when you just need a break. I'm sure it's a combination of a lot of things, and for me, I'm slowly feeling myself burn out one eye roll and PBS episode at a time.
Part of it is the weather. I can't seem to get through the day without fantasizing about trips to the playground, bike riding in the driveway, and days playing in the sand. Heck, I'll even take galoshes and mud puddles at this point. Another part is the kids in general.
Life isn't any different than it normally is, it's just that over time my mental response changes, my patience thins and frustration takes over. It's take a special kind of preparation to wake up every single day and tackle the same obstacles over an over again. With the three year old it's being bombarded at seven in the morning with questions like, "How to you spell Stigymolic? Why did Jesus' crown give him ouies? Did Goliath have a bow and arrow? When can I get a Spiderman watch? Who got me these jammies?" For the baby it's whole plates of food being thrown on the floor after I've swept, a leaky diaper after I've changed the sheets, and the fun game of throwing freshly folded clothes out of the laundry baskets.
I can't complain about these things, really, stuff like this happens everyday. Apple juice spills, the cat pukes on the rug, nap times don't coordinate, an accident happens on the bathroom floor and midway through the day I've changed the kids so many time I've given up on their clothes matching. I really can't complain, this is life, and yet I do complain, because it is wearing both physically and mentally. After so long my ability to cope gracefully and patiently with "life" is lost and I give in to yelling, deep sighs and the ever so lovely eye rolling.
I guess the point is that we DO need breaks sometimes. For me, it can be as little as an walk outdoors on a decent day, lunch with a friend, or sneaking away for coffee during naptime on the weekend. In another season, when the baby is weaned, I'm looking forward to a weekend away with friends; not having to worry about staying up late laughing because of the early morning wake up that follows!
So...who's coming with me ;)
However, it seems that no matter how you put it, there does seem to come a point when you just need a break. I'm sure it's a combination of a lot of things, and for me, I'm slowly feeling myself burn out one eye roll and PBS episode at a time.
Part of it is the weather. I can't seem to get through the day without fantasizing about trips to the playground, bike riding in the driveway, and days playing in the sand. Heck, I'll even take galoshes and mud puddles at this point. Another part is the kids in general.
Life isn't any different than it normally is, it's just that over time my mental response changes, my patience thins and frustration takes over. It's take a special kind of preparation to wake up every single day and tackle the same obstacles over an over again. With the three year old it's being bombarded at seven in the morning with questions like, "How to you spell Stigymolic? Why did Jesus' crown give him ouies? Did Goliath have a bow and arrow? When can I get a Spiderman watch? Who got me these jammies?" For the baby it's whole plates of food being thrown on the floor after I've swept, a leaky diaper after I've changed the sheets, and the fun game of throwing freshly folded clothes out of the laundry baskets.
I can't complain about these things, really, stuff like this happens everyday. Apple juice spills, the cat pukes on the rug, nap times don't coordinate, an accident happens on the bathroom floor and midway through the day I've changed the kids so many time I've given up on their clothes matching. I really can't complain, this is life, and yet I do complain, because it is wearing both physically and mentally. After so long my ability to cope gracefully and patiently with "life" is lost and I give in to yelling, deep sighs and the ever so lovely eye rolling.
I guess the point is that we DO need breaks sometimes. For me, it can be as little as an walk outdoors on a decent day, lunch with a friend, or sneaking away for coffee during naptime on the weekend. In another season, when the baby is weaned, I'm looking forward to a weekend away with friends; not having to worry about staying up late laughing because of the early morning wake up that follows!
So...who's coming with me ;)
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Presto, Chango!
An ugly chair to a pretty chair, all during one naptime, the Dr. Oz show and a Diet Coke.
Before...
Tools: Screwdriver, wrench, scissors, staple gun, and fabric
Yeah! A pretty blue toile chair!
Before...
Tools: Screwdriver, wrench, scissors, staple gun, and fabric
Yeah! A pretty blue toile chair!
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
I Kid You Not!
I just read this in February's edition of Ladies Home Journal. I read it three times to make sure I was getting it right.
Question: "My sister treats her pets like family members. I don't have a problem with that, but recently she got mad because I didn't buy holiday gifts for the dog and cat! How should I handle this?"
Answer: "Buy presents for the pets! Not doing so--especially after your sister has expressed how hurt she feels when her "babies" are ignored--could come across as callous. 'Pets are family members,' says Arden. 'They provide love and companionship.' And don't forget to wrap the trinkets with pretty paper and bows. Your sister will certainly appreciate the kind and thoughtful gesture."
Um, are you serious? Apparently. This is ALMOST as bad as the day after our first son was born, I was still in the hospital and Mark shared with a passerby about his new baby. The lady responded how she could relate because she just got a new puppy!
Let's just say that my answer would have been MUCH different.
See for yourself...it's not a joke.
Question: "My sister treats her pets like family members. I don't have a problem with that, but recently she got mad because I didn't buy holiday gifts for the dog and cat! How should I handle this?"
Answer: "Buy presents for the pets! Not doing so--especially after your sister has expressed how hurt she feels when her "babies" are ignored--could come across as callous. 'Pets are family members,' says Arden. 'They provide love and companionship.' And don't forget to wrap the trinkets with pretty paper and bows. Your sister will certainly appreciate the kind and thoughtful gesture."
Um, are you serious? Apparently. This is ALMOST as bad as the day after our first son was born, I was still in the hospital and Mark shared with a passerby about his new baby. The lady responded how she could relate because she just got a new puppy!
Let's just say that my answer would have been MUCH different.
See for yourself...it's not a joke.
Monday, February 1, 2010
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
I can't talk. Seriously. Nothing.
I try and try and try and there is no voice. The best I can do is breathy, nearly silent whisper.
How in the world am I supposed to function as a mother when I can't instruct, demand, question and answer? No book reading, no song singing, no talking. Grr. Nothing has frustrated me more than WANTING to talk, but not being able to at all.
That's my vent. Off to more coloring books.
I try and try and try and there is no voice. The best I can do is breathy, nearly silent whisper.
How in the world am I supposed to function as a mother when I can't instruct, demand, question and answer? No book reading, no song singing, no talking. Grr. Nothing has frustrated me more than WANTING to talk, but not being able to at all.
That's my vent. Off to more coloring books.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
