Hooray for a New Week!!!

So, to say the least, last week wasn't really the best. When I saw my OB on Friday, he asked me how I was doing (emotionally). It was hard to get a real clear picture of how I'm doing. Yes, I did spend a good part of my week with tears; but a good part of my week was just not so peachy.

On Wednesday, Brooklyn has "early release" and gets out of school one hour early. That day, I went at my regular time to pick her up, and I immediately knew something was amiss when I got to the school and I didn't have to run over anyone to find a place to park. I realized what I had done, and rushed into the office of the school to find Brooklyn. The secretary was useless, and said that any kids that don't get picked up go to the lunchroom. I have a daughter in junior kindergarten, she doesn't even eat lunch, I don't know where the lunchroom is. She rolled her eyes and explained it to me. When I got there, Brooklyn wasn't there either. Panic set in at that point. Another teacher told me some kids had been sent to yet another room. Thankfully, it was there that I found Brooklyn and she was with a teacher's aide that I know from her classroom. Of course, the combination of stress, relief, embarrassment, joy, stupidity, and anger (why didn't someone CALL me?) collided and I burst into tears. Fortunately, Brooklyn was the bigger person in the situation, and she was fine.

The next day, as I was dropping her off for school, I stepped out to help her out of the car and onto the sidewalk. I left Sadie and Ty in the car, it was still running (after all, I was just stepping out). Anyway, the doors locked behind me; with kids, purse, cell phone, and keys all locked in the car. Again, the tears came rolling in and I borrowed a cell phone to call Jake. Jake being the smart one between the two of us (and the smart alec) pointed out that I could instruct Ty how to unlock the doors. After a few minutes of screaming and gesturing in sub zero temps, I was back inside my warm car with my kiddos.

Then, here's the kicker, and absolute salute to my stupdity/bad week. On Saturday morning, I was making oatmeal. I took it (piping hot) out of the microwave, and sat it on the counter. It fell off of the counter and the oatmeal landed on my foot. Of course, I got serious burns all over my foot. It was incredible pain. I'm not a screamer, but I was screaming trying to get the oatmeal off. We didn't want to have to go to the doctor, mainly because I hate it when they say, "yeah dummy, your burnt your foot, keep cool compresses on it...take a few tylenol..etc". Often, a doctors advice is not worth paying for. Anyway, we were putting cool compresses on it and it was still killing me. About an hour later, I was trying to relax in a recliner, and I started to feel faint and nauseated; then I blacked out. Jake at that point decided to take me to the ER. On the way, I continued to feel awful, and managed to throw up all over myself...so embarrassing when I went to the ER.

They treated my burn in the ER, and fortunately were able to give me fluids, meds for nausea, and meds for pain (and a tetanus shot too...ouch...still hurts today). After treating my burn (all they could do was get me out of pain and put on antibiotic cream and bandages...they supposedly have awesome burn cream, but they can't give it to pregnant ladies)...they did an EKG and checked my vitals to see if they could see why I blacked out. Then, I had to go up to their Labor and Delivery unit to have the baby monitored for a few hours (he was fine). In the end, they think that I blacked out for two reasons: one, sheer pain; two, the position I was sitting in may have put the baby on one of my veins and temporarily blocked bloodflow to my brains.

What a story! It's not funny yet, but I'm sure it will be someday. The best question of the day (from the ER doc): "Were you wearing shoes when this happened?" (Duh dude, check out those second-degree burns covering the top of my foot...whaddya think?). He then replied, "You probably would not have been burned so badly if you had been wearing shoes" (Thanks man, you rock. Did you have to go to med school to dispense awesome advice like that? I somehow missed that on the package of oatmeal I was preparing that I should have protective footwear)

Fortunately, I'm getting better (me and my prescription pain killers). I'm hoping for the best this week. On a happy note, I heard a Christmas song this morning that really put me in tune with the season, and maybe took out some of my frustration from last week. After all, last year, it was on December 19 (one day before my 30th birthday, 6 days before Christmas) that I experienced a miscarriage. The song "Where are you Christmas?" really hit home for me last year; as I had a hard time finding joy in the holiday when I was in so much physical and emotional pain. When I heard that song again today, my kids were somewhat happily eating lunch together, and the pains and aches of pregnancy and burns seemed somehow insignificant. Christmas is here.

My Husband's Son

You know when you were a kid, and you misbehaved, and your mom used to say "I hope, one day, when you grow up, that you will have a child JUST LIKE YOU!" Let me just say, in all fairness, this is not a fair statement for mothers to make to SONS. For one day, it will not be your son that will pay the price of your curse, but your sweet daughter-in-law (yeah, the one who willingly took that son off of your hands). I just happen to know someone who is currently bemoaning her current situation, in having to raise a child that is just like her husband.
Today, as I was working on fixing dinner, Brooklyn and Ty were behind me in the dining room. Brooklyn said, "Mom, Ty is playing with the knives! (butter knives, thankfully). Ty then said "No Mom, I'm playing my violin!" As I turned around to confiscant the knives, he was standing with two knives in hand. His eyes were quietly closed and his head was cocked, as he was carefully drawing one knife upon the other, as a bow upon a string. I can't laugh, it will just make it worse!

Pushing Excuses

I'm able to attest to the fact that some behaviors (such as pushing and hitting) must be nature, not nurture. Despite my best parenting attempts, my kids often are use brute force to express themselves, and sometimes, I'm not even sure they're expressing any deep emotions or opinions, but maybe just knowing how good it feels to have some power.

At any rate, I've heard some fabulous excuses this weekend for pushing.

Yesterday, Brooklyn pushed Ty and said: "I wasn't pushing him, I just went through him!" She was emphatic about the difference and positive that her argument was sound.

Today, Ty was standing at the top of the stairs with Sadie and pushed her. I'm seriously paranoid about one of the kids getting pushed down my long flight of hardwood stairs, so I immediately reprimanded him. He then replied, "I wasn't pushing her, I was strapping a rocket on her back". Seriously? He almost had to be to come up with something so creative.

At least Ty and Brooklyn make excuses, trying to cover up misdeeds. Sadie, on the other hand, is 23 1/2 pounds of pure attitude. She pushes everyone, including Jake and I, much more often than any of the other kids. She doesn't make excuses, she never denies it, but confesses as if she were fully justified. What's a mom to do? I'm thinking about pushing back a bit!

Useful Information

For those of you who live here in Milwaukee, be it known that not making a full and complete stop when turning right at a red light WILL get you pulled over. I learned so last night. I was lost, trying to get to a restaurant in the Third Ward. The officer was at the intersection, I totally saw him; but I didn't think about making a rolling stop to turn right at the light. I was lost, and more focused on looking at street signs and figuring out where to go than making a complete stop. Honestly, when those lights started flashing in my rear view, I didn't even know why I was getting pulled over. Fortunately, the office was very kind; offered me only a warning and gave even me directions (then followed me most of the way there, I don't know if he was concerned about me or just checking my story). He simply asked why I did what I did, I tried my best to look pathetic and lost (sticking out my pregnant belly as much as possible). Off the hook! (And no ladies, I didn't even have to resort to crying) Drivers beware and be careful!

Like Mother, Like Daughter, and so it goes

I've been a rotten blogger lately, but I did want to post something of note that made me laugh. Brooklyn's b-day was a few weeks ago; and she was supposed to take birthday treats to her school class. After contemplating letting the grocery store bakery make our goodies for me, I guilted myself into feeling like a "good mom" would make homemade goodies. So, I referred to one of my wonderful friends (Google) to try to come up with some fun, simple cupcake ideas. I won't go into boring details, but I spent way too much valuable time planning cupcakes for a 5-year old to take to Junior Kindergarten. After I completed my cupcakes (which did end up being adorable (and very simple) thanks to butterfly shaped gummies that I found at my local grocery), I called my Mom to tell her. After all, I remember when I was young, my mom often stressed about what for me to take to my class (yes, I remember this, maybe it had something to do with having a birthday 5 days before Christmas). Anyway, I related to her how funny I thought it was that she always stressed about silly b-day treats; and now I was stressing. She then related to me a story about my Grandma's mother, regarding the same thing. As the story goes, my great-grandma was up all night, burning batch after batch of candies on a wood stove for my grandma to take to her school class. It's hilarious to me to see the commonalities of women of all generations. Gluttons for punishment we are, and it's apparently either genetic or a trait that follow the female sex in general. Next time I pull an all-nighter for the sake of being a "good" mom/wife/friend/church member/nut case/perfectionist/over-achiever; I will remember that I am in good company and that it's nothing new!

I'm ALIVE!!!

As you can see from my cute little counter there on the right, I am 27 weeks and 5 days pregnant. I'll leave that as my number one excuse for not blogging. We're all doing pretty well. October was a rough month, I just couldn't keep my family healthy. I'm hoping maybe we've got some credit earned for future illness this winter. (With Brooklyn in her first year of school, I'm afraid not). The kids enjoyed Halloween, and I'm now devising a way to toss out some candy without someone taking note. I am really good at making my kids limit their candy intake, it's ME that's the problem. "Oh, I'm pregnant...I need the extra calories...I worked out today...I'm feeling stressed today, I deserve it!" I try to remind myself that delivering this baby isn't going to do anything for my hips and thighs. At any rate, the candy has to go before the Christmas treats start rolling in.
I will post pictures later (of the kids, not the hips; it was enough the my sister in law posted SWIMSUIT photos of me on Facebook last month...I'm still thinking of how to return the favor...it's pretty hard to match pregnant AND swimsuit)

Getting OLD

This weekend, when we were celebrating Brooklyn and Jake's birthdays, Brooklyn was very excited about "being bigger" and growing up. All day, she was sure that she had acquired new skills, talents, and abilities by becoming 5. She asked Jake how old he was, and he told her. She then counted to 30, and said, "Wow! You went all the way through all of your twenties!" Ironically, I am 10 months OLDER than Jake, but I had a lot of fun teasing him about being "OLD". I'm comfortable in my old skin; I have so much more confidence now than I did way back when. (Also, last year, the day before my birthday I had a miscarriage, so I kinda worked my way out of old jokes). Anyway, Happy Birthday Jake!