Wordless Wednesday

AKA-I'm too lazy to come up with a real post.

Still truckin' along...

We're here. Hanging on. Sick of being sick.

The kids shared their sinus infections with me. And Chase shared his poison oak with me, too. I have such a generous family.

So other than all the doctors appointments, sickness, & lack of sleep, there's been nothing going on. Nothing.

I can't think of anything to write about. Most of my thoughts are negative, woe is me type thoughts & that's not exactly what I want to be spreading around the internets.

So, until I get back in the groove, here's a few pictures from Carter's birthday weekend.

{Cake by the awesome Ashley, again}


{Birthday boy enjoyed his little frog cake}


{Claire loves to be "shocked". No matter what she's doing, if you tell her it's shocking, she'll make this face for you.}

I probably got another cyst as punishment for hitting my kid in public

Carter's evaluation went fine, no seizures, nothing to worry about. The neurologist tried to tell me he's delayed on his verbal & motor skills. I told him I disagreed, that I think it's more a case of 2nd kid-itis. His regular doctor, Chase, & pretty much anyone else that has any interaction with him agreed, too. Heck, if you could get what you wanted just by pointing & grunting, would you put any effort into talking? I didn't think so.

Both kids are little sicklets. It's awesome. Between sick visits, regular checkups, Claire's surgery for tubes, the surgery on my hand (and the possibility of a 2nd one), periodic orthopedic visits for the kids hips, & all the other doctor related stuff we've had this year, our ridiculously high deductible was met by the end of July. That is impressive yet disgusting at the same time. And yes, you read right about my hand. About a week after having my stitches taken out, I found another cyst. Same hand, different finger. My doctor didn't even look at it, just referred me right back to Dr. Hand.

Carter's birthday was awesome. It wasn't as big or complicated as Claire's party, which was great. Very few toys were received, which was even greater. And the few we got were quiet...no singing, talking, or flashing lights. Pictures coming soon.

And since I was too busy lazy to get around to writing a Random Tuesday Thoughts yesterday, I leave you with these little nuggets of love:

Claire secured my nomination for Mom of the Year yesterday while we were at the library. I got onto her for something & swatted her hand. Claire, sensing that the entire library had fallen quiet, chose that moment to shout "Mom! Don't hit me, mom!" Well played, daughter. Well played indeed.

I am debating writing to the board that licenses all new doctors & petitioning for a new test to be added. I think all doctors need to be able to pass a breath test before their license is handed over. Now, I'm not saying your breath needs to smell like unicorns & sunshine, but c'mon. A little Mentos never hurt anyone. For an hour & forty five minutes on Monday, I was only able to take tiny little gasping breaths because it smelled like the doctor dined on baby skunks for lunch.

So after a year & a half of having my car, I've got it pretty much figured out exactly how many miles I can get on a tank of gas. Yet it still annoys me to no end when Chase doesn't reset the tripometer after every fill up.

Finally, you never know what will pop out of Chase's mouth. Last week, after leaving Carter's appointment, we stopped at Starbucks since neither of us got much sleep the night before. Claire started whining for a chocolate chip cookie. "I want the cookie. Mom, I want the cookie. Mom, please? Please? I like chocolate cookie, Mom. Dad? Cookie? I like it." Chase pops off & says "You know who else likes cookies, Claire? The devil. That's who." Claire didn't say anything for about 20 seconds & then in this tiny little voice said "Uhm. Cookie? Please?"

Where I've been, where I'm headed...

Life in Casa de Beasty has been rough the past two weeks. My plate is full to the point of overflowing right now. For me, at least.

Two weeks ago found us with a sick household. It started out with Carter starting to act sick on Friday, right as company was showing up. That's right...two weeks ago I not only met internet strangers, I opened my house up to them. And it was every bit as awesome as I thought it would be. Jess & Marissa, I hope you'll come back soon!

By Monday, Claire was sniffling & coughing all over the place, Carter was acting even more run down, & Chase woke up whining. I spent the next few nights on the couch in an effort to make sure I didn't catch anything. Throw in Carter waking up every hour Tuesday night, me carrying him in the Moby wrap & pacing the street in front of our house for an hour & a barking cough & we were at the doctor the next day. Poor guy had a pretty severe ear infection.

My big guy, baby man, fatty thighs, Roo-Diddy, will be ONE on Friday. Wasn't it just a few weeks ago I was blogging about colic & how it was hitting us late in the game? I've been trying to get everything put together for his party on Saturday. It's not going so well. My house is a disaster from the two weeks I wasn't able to do much. I got my stitches taken out a week ago & I've had a lot of pain & still haven't been able to use my hand much.

And then, last week, the nightmares started. In any piece of parenting advice you read, "they" all say that 11 months old is too young to be having nightmares {night terrors if you want to get technical}. Yet for the past 2 weeks, Carter has had all the classic signs of nightmares. Initially, I didn't worry about it, just comforted him & followed all of "their" advice-don't try to wake him up, don't change his surroundings, etc. They were fairly short, 2-3 minutes, & as long as I would hold him, rock him, pat his back, he'd calm down quickly. He had two during naptime but I didn't think much of it.

That all changed on Monday. Halfway through naptime, I heard the screaming. The "I'm in pain, something is VERY wrong, I need you NOW" screaming. Moms, you know that scream. The one you hope to never hear. I went into their bedroom, expecting to find his fatty thigh stuck in the slats or to see that he was holding his head after hitting it on the side, which happens all too often. Instead, I walked in to sweet boy sitting up in bed, screaming & sobbing, eyes open but totally unfocused. I tried the usual lay him down, cover him with his blue {both kids have their silky blankets, which are oh-so imaginatively named "blue" & "pink"} & give him his pacifier. He threw my hands away & sat right back up.

I got him out of bed & we moved to the rocker. Carter continued to moan & sob & his little arms just couldn't stay still. After a few minutes of rubbing his back & whispering to him, he started to settle down but was still doing those deep, gasping sobs. After he finally quieted down, I tried to put him back in bed but it immediately started all over again. That started up another close to 5 minute stretch of the sobbing & flailing about. The hardest part for me were the times his eyes would be wide open but completely unfocused or rolling back in his head.

By this point in time, his fit had lasted for close to 10 minutes. Claire had nightmares when she was about 16-17 months old but they never lasted for more than a few minutes & she seemed to move past that stage fairly quickly, so the length alone of Carter's fit was enough to have me concerned. And then what was quite possibly the scariest moment I've had with either child happened. Carter would inhale, exhale quickly, & then 10-15 seconds would go by before he would inhale again. And when he did finally inhale, it would be huge, gasping, gulping breaths. The kind you take when you can't get enough air. He continued to do this 5 or 6 more times over a 10 minute period, on top of the sobbing, flailing & moaning before he finally settled down & fell back into a peaceful sleep.

To say I was scared is an understatement. I left the room long enough to call Chase & tell him what happened & then spent the rest of naptime sitting in the kids' room, listening to them breath. Wednesday brought another nightmare during naptime but like all previous ones, it only lasted a few minutes & he was easily calmed.

So that wraps up where I've been. When we went in for Roo's follow-up appointment on Thursday, I brought all of this up to his doctor. Which leads to where I'm headed. Carter's doctor agreed that it does sound like he's gotten an {albeit unfortunate} headstart on the nightmares. In his 27 years of practice, he's never had a baby that has had nightmares of this scale during naptime. Or one that lasted close to 20 minutes. He felt that his breathing issues were simply a matter of exhaustion from the length of the fit & wasn't overall concerned about them, in regards to the possibility of it having happened in the past or the likelihood of any recurrence.

Our doctor ended up consulting with a pediatric neurologist, whom we are headed to see on Tuesday. He has always been incredibly proactive & is one of those doctors where, if he doesn't know the answer, he doesn't hesitate to call someone who he thinks will. Based on a phone call only, the neurologist seems to think that Carter may have had an atypical seizure while he was sleeping. Chase & I wholeheartedly DISAGREE with the neurologist at this time. One perk of Chase holding a doctorate degree & spending 7 years in college? We have a wealth of medical textbooks stacked up in the basement & Chase knows which websites are the best & easiest to navigate. Chase showed me description after description of seizures, what I would have seen, other indicating factors, etc. & Carter displays NONE of those characteristics.

It is absolutely possible that Chase & I are completely wrong. Seeing as how neither one of us is a neurologist & all. So Tuesday, we are meeting with the neurologist & they are doing an EEG on Carter. The fun starts on Monday night at approximately 8:00pm. Bedtime around here is normally 8-8:30 but we've been instructed to keep Carter awake until midnight & then wake him up at 5:00am. And then keep him awake until we arrive in Wichita around 8:00am, which should be all kinds of fun since he almost always falls asleep in the car. He'll be sedated so that they can place the leads on his head & then testing should last approximately an hour.

But oh no, our fun does not end there! As soon as his appointment is finished, we'll head across town for Claire's appointment with the ENT. We didn't receive the call about Carter's EEG until 5:15 Friday afternoon, so it was too late to call & reschedule Claire's appointment. Then either Thursday or Friday, we have Carter's appointment with the orthopedist for his 1 year checkup on his hips. Friday is his "Happy Birthday Day" as Claire calls it & Saturday is his party. Monday will find us back in Wichita for his follow up evaluation with the neurologist & the reading of the EEG, which will take 2-3 hours & to round out a fun-filled week, Tuesday will be his 1 year checkup & shots.

That kid? Will hate me by the time the next week is over.

Like I said before, Chase & I completely disagree with the seizure possibility. But again, we're not neurologists. We can only hope & pray that the doctor is absolutely wrong & approaching this from a worst-case scenario standpoint & that the EEG is just a matter of playing it safe. Having to wait the week for results will be tough.

So if I'm not around much the next week, you'll know why. But then again, I might be blogging away about random crazy stuff just as a means of distraction from everything that I've got coming at me.

County Fair

The first weekend in August, Cowley County has their annual county fair. This year, we didn't realize the date, so the first night of the fair, Claire was off visiting Chase's parents for the weekend. The first night, Chase, one of his friends, Roo & I headed out after the guys got off of work. We walked, ate way too much, had fun crowd watching & Roo & I cheered on the guys while they attempted to win something from the games on the midway.

Carter was such a trooper while we were out there, taking in the sights & sounds. Around 9:30, he started to get cranky, as it was an hour after his bedtime. I snugged him up in his Moby & tried to get him fall asleep. I covered his head, gave him his favorite lovey & paced the midway, trying to soothe him.

Monday, the kids & I stopped at Wal-Mart to run in & get some stuff before naptime. As I was trying to get the kids from the car to the basket, a man was getting out of his car next to us. When he saw me, he got this look of shock on his face & asked if I lived here in town. He then asked if I'd been at the fair, carrying a baby. When I said yes, he said "I took your picture at the fair. I just assumed you were from out of town because I'd never seen you before. I've had your picture on display with my exhibit at the coffee shop. I hope you don't mind. I'd be happy to take it down if you'd like." I told him that, no, I didn't mind at all & that I'd be headed out there to see it soon.

Chase & I took the kids there for lunch yesterday. The picture was up with a whole collection of others taken during the fair. Chase liked the picture so much he bought it before we left. It's now hanging in our dining room with some of our other treasures & it makes me smile each time I walk by.

All photo credit goes to Ron Shufflebarger of Winfield. He can be found here and here.

Wordful Wednesday

The girl's got a wicked sense of style. This was what she wanted to wear to the fair on Sunday night. In case you can't tell? It's her Abby "Dabby" birthday outfit, paired with neon blue legwarmers with multi-colored stars & pink Hello Kitty rainboots. Nevermind the fact that it was 95 degrees out.



And this little squeezable ball of goo is going to be one in 37 days. Those chubby little cheeks & big blue eyes melt my heart all over again every single day.

Blog? What?

Hello? Is this thing on? Hello?

Remember me? You know, the blogger who likes to talk about the embarrassing things my kids do? Or things that my husband does that annoy me?

I'm still here. You'd think with all the sleepless nights I've been having lately, I'd be blogging up a storm, since I have nothing better to do, like, oh I dunno...sleep.

I'm in a vicious cycle right now. I lay down, stare at the ceiling for 30-45 minutes, get up, waste time, maybe clean a little, collapse in between 1 & 2, get maybe a good 4 hours before Roo wakes up for his bottle, consider myself lucky if I get another hour of uninterrupted sleep, & then start my day. Monday was the worst night by far. I laid in bed til 4am (couldn't get up & roam around since we had company) & then was wide awake at 7am. Tuesday? You rocked.

My brain just hasn't been shutting off lately. I lay down & start thinking about what I'm going to do the next day. What happened today that I haven't told Chase about yet? I start up a mental Wal-Mart list, just to forget it all when I'm actually there. I sing my ABCs, Twinkle Twinkle, You are my Sunshine, If you're happy & you know it. Mickey Mouse & the Imagination Movers have taken up permanent residence. Wonder Pets are slowly creeping back in. I question when the last time I watched a show I want to watch was.

We're having Claire's big birthday party on Sunday, so that's part of what I'm thinking about all night. Because you know. She's worried about whether the pinks & purples of the flowers will match the rest of the Abby Cadabby decorations. Or whether I'll be able to find a pair of leggings at Wal-Mart to go under the Abby outfit I bought her on Etsy. She can't stop thinking about how to get the center of the artichoke out to put in the veggie dip. And she's totally excited about carving the watermelon & scooping the insides out with the melon baller so we can put all the fruit inside. And I totally have to give her credit for thinking of the fact that we should serve orange punch instead of red so in case someone spills, it won't stain the carpet.

So far the guest count is between 20-30. It just depends on what day you ask someone if they're coming. I'm sure the main motivation for some is just to see the new house. Sorry, folks...hope you're not expecting anything bright & shiny on the inside. Because instead of the new living room furniture I've been trying to get for the last year, we have a massage chair sitting in our bedroom. And a dog being delivered to our house Saturday night. Oh, I can't forget...the shotgun sitting in my in-law's basement. Priorities, people!

But hey, at least Carter is easy to please. All he cares about is getting to eat cake. He's like that old saying about the fat kid & his cake. Except for the fat part. If I ate as much as him? I'd weigh 372lbs. He eats probably twice as much as Claire does & still drinks about 30oz of formula a day. And tops the scales at an unimpressive 18lbs. My left butt cheek weighs more than that. He's still hanging out in a size 2 diaper. Except not really. Because we switched to cloth. I'm sick of shelling out the dough every week for diapers. And for butt cream. The poor kid always has a diaper rash. And this week he managed to pull off a nasty yeast infection. Until they all get here, he's been suffering in the dreaded gDiapers. We used those until he was about 4 months old. I tried to like them, really. But that's a story for another time.

The little punk. Pretty sure he's going to say Dada first. It's ok, though. We all know who he loves best. That's right. The lady who wipes his butt & brings him food.

So internets, can you please forgive me for disappearing this last week? I'm really hoping that after everyone clears out on Monday, life will resume to a somewhat normal state & I can get back to the important things in life. Like blogging. And watching Carter try to take a few steps. And probably cleaning up more dog pee than I can imagine.

I'll leave you with this little gem. Because like I said, it's all about recording the embarrassing moments.

Someone thinks I'm doing something right!

The lovely Kyooty over at Kyooty Center has decided I'm a pretty good momma & sent me an award for it!

Thanks, Kyooty, for my first award!

I do love my little beastlets. Some rare pics of me with the terrible twosome :)

Momma & my precious TWO YEAR OLD! Happy birthday, sweet Bear. I love you more than I ever thought I could love someone & you are the sunshine of my day. You drag me out of bed way too early every morning, keep me laughing all day long, & send me crashing into bed every night. And I wouldn't have it any other way.


Momma & sweet little Roo baby. My little surprise, you continue to do just that every single day. You keep me on my toes, whether it be from crawling over to the table & getting stuck underneath it, pulling up on something & panicking when you can't get down, or trying to mimick what Bear is doing & getting hurt because you suffer from "little dog" syndrome. Don't rush, little man...one day, too soon, you will be a big boy, mobile & running all over the place, no longer my little booger butt.

Why I love my tile floors

Alternative title:

Who would like to come teach my children proper table etiquette?

I do believe I've mentioned in the past the hideous, completely pointless, completely horrid white carpet that was in our rent house? I may have failed to mention that this carpet extended into the dining room.

Sure, I hated that carpet. Hated it in the rest of the house. I totally, utterly, completely detested having carpet underneath my dining room table. That would be a common-sense FAIL right there.

The ridiculous carpet necessitated a sheet being kept underneath Bear's highchair at all times. And that sheet? Had to be washed pretty much daily because, well, she wasis a slob.

Which leads me to my love of my tile floors in the dining room & kitchen. Bear's still a total slob & Roo's just starting to get the hang of eating something that doesn't look like pureed dog doo, so he's lucky if he gets 50% of the food into his mouth.

It usually works like this:

• 7:00am: Start out the day with beautiful shining floors, clean table, clean highchairs.
  
• 9:00am: Feeding time at the zoo has begun.
  
• 9:15am: Step on some puffs, curse because it is totally smushed into my foot & I actually have to scrape it off.
  
• 9:20am: One of the beastlets has decided they are done eating, so whatever food is left on their plate is dumped.
  
• 9:21am: Take a peek at the floor, think Bear actually did a decent job of eating & that there isn't much food under her chair. Take a peek under Roo's highchair, wonder why I bother to put food on his plate at all. He'd be happier if I scattered it across the floor a la Hansel & Gretel & set him free to act as a human vacuum.
  
• 9:22am: Get kids down from table. Depending on what was served for breakfast, either herd them into the tub or herd them into the playroom.
  
• 9:23am: Walk out of kitchen & leave the mess on the floor.
  
• 11:45am: Repeat scene from breakfast. Except now it's lunch, so the food is a little messier.
  
• 12:15pm: Again repeat scene from breakfast. Remove beastlets from chairs, decide between bath or diaper/clothing changes & naptime wind down.
  
• 12:45pm: Beastlets are in bed. Whip out the trusty broom, dustpan & mop. Proceed to clean up approximately 2/3 of all food I painstakingly unwrapped prepared for the terrors.
  
• 3:30pm: Snacktime. Why did I bother sweeping & mopping?
  
• 7:45pm: Dinner. Repeat food scene played out through entire day.
  

So there you have it. I'm lazy. I don't sweep and/or mop after every feeding. If I did, my schedule would look like this: Feed, sweep, mop. Repeat 4x.

But it can't be that bad you might be saying to yourself. Ha! would be my reply. Still don't believe me? Here's photographic evidence. This is from breakfast & lunch today.

Here it is, still all spread out:


And here is the massive pile once it's been swept up:


I know...you're just totally clamoring to come eat with me & my kids. Right?

Seriously though. Those pictures? Proof of why, when we go out to eat, we tip based off of how big of a mess the kids made. Your service sucked balls? If they made a mess like the one above, you're still getting $10.

Roo's Story

Ahhh, Roo-baby. My little surprise. Your beginning was a surprise, your arrival was a surprise, and you continue to surprise me each & every day.

Bear was about 6 months old when we found out The Doctor's brother & sister-in-law were pregnant with #2. And holy crapola did baby fever hit us both. Hard. Before Bear was born, I was 150% certain that I only wanted one child. And then, surprisingly, I loved being pregnant. Every moment of it. I loved (even given the circumstances) the labor & delivery. And I wanted a second baby so badly, I could barely stand it.

Things got crazy. Doctor was finishing his first semester of rotations, driving into OKC 7 days a week for school & work. 2 hours a day on the road. I was home with Bear, still trying to settle into a routine, and packing to move to OKC for Doctor's last semester of school. We talked a little about having a second baby & decided we'd start trying after graduation, around the time Bear turned 1.

We moved, we unpacked, we took advantage of having a babysitter & went out a few times.

I swear to you. The Doctor & I simply TALKED about having a second baby & BAM. For about a week, I was so incredibly sick I couldn't get out of bed in the mornings. Bear & I didn't leave the house. The house looked like a tornado wrecked it. The Doctor started to get suspicious. Clear Blue Easy's stock prices once again rose.

14 (no lie) tests later & we finally accepted it. Do you have any idea how much 14 pregnancy tests cost? I don't suggest it.

I was close to 12 weeks by the time I had my first appointment. Chalk it up to losing my birth certificate, which was necessary to get a new drivers license-since mine had expired. However, you have to have a current drivers license to get a copy of your birth certificate. I had to wait for my mom to be able to take off of work to go get a copy of my birth certificate for me. Why was this necessary? You have to have all of those things to apply for Medicaid, which we had to have since Doctor was still in school.

I didn't know I was almost 12 weeks though. I had no clue when I might have gotten pregnant.

Totally. Uneventful. Pregnancy. You know, except for the part where we moved to another state, attended the Doctor's graduation in 90 degree heat, celebrated Bear's 1st birthday, chased around a crazy toddler, served as MOH in my beautiful sister's wedding, and traveled more than any sane person should.

And did I mention that I kept my doctor in OKC, which is close to a 2.5hr drive? It was worth it, though. I had an awesome doctor.

Awesome except for the part where he never checked me to see if I was making any progress. I started asking at 34 weeks because I wanted to try & have a general idea of when I should make sure to have my bag packed & all that fun stuff.

I went in for my 37wk appointment, asked to be checked, & was told we'd do it at my 38wk appointment. My doctor said he didn't expect much to be happening & that he figured he'd see me for my 38wk appointment, check me then, & see me at the hospital 3 days later to be induced. Because, you know, we planned on inducing so we didn't have to worry about going late, going into labor on my own, anything that would make the 2.5hr drive even more miserable than normal.

I came home from the appointment disappointed, fat, swollen, & totally over being pregnant. Fast forward through a totally ordinary week. I had my bag about 75% packed & Bear's bag totally packed. Wednesday, September 10th, I'm sure Bear & I spent the day doing our typical stuff. That night I lamented to The Doctor how OVER being pregnant I was. I cleaned the whole house, played with Bear, then jumped on the treadmill. Doctor's dad called about 20 minutes into my walk & laughed when I told him what I was doing.

Headed to bed, tried to, ah, you know, get things going, went to bed about 11:30.

1:31am. Wide awake, wondering if I really felt what I think I did. Went to the bathroom, walked around for a while, wondered if Roo was really doing a number on my bladder. Woke the Doctor up about 1:40, told him my water broke. I have never seen the man move quite so fast. "Get the bag! Get Bear! Where's my glasses? My phone! My wallet! Why can't I find anything? Do you feel OK? Are you having contractions? Lets go, lets go!" Did I mention we had a 2.5hr drive ahead of us?

Instead of rushing around, I convinced Doctor to help me load the dishwasher, take out the trash, you know, the usual. My reasoning was that I figured we wouldn't be home for 2 or 3 days & I wanted to come home to a clean house. We finally loaded up the car, got Bear in her carseat & took off. I had 1/2 a tank of gas & suggested to the Doctor that we needed to go ahead & get gas. Of course, being the smarty-pants that he is, says "Nah. We can make it." 145 miles on 1/2 a tank? Sure.

The interstate is 20min from town. By the time we hit the interstate, a mere 40 minutes after my water broke, my contractions were coming every 3-4 minutes. Uncomfortable but not unbearable. By the time we got to the Oklahoma state line, they were every 1-2 minutes, lasting about 45 seconds. Yeah. I was getting a little edgy by that point. And what do you know? About 30 miles later, we had to stop & get gas.

I asked suggested begged demanded the Doctor drive faster. I didn't know it until later but he was cruising down I35 at a relaxed 120mph. He may have been a little worried that we were going to have Roo on the side of the road. It should also be noted that from any point on the interstate, it would have taken us a minimum of 45 minutes to get to any hospital.

When we were about 10 minutes from the hospital, I called my brother-in-law, who lives about 10 minutes away & asked if one of them could meet us there to pick up Bear. Perhaps saying "asked" is stretching it. More like I grunted "having baby. come. get. Bear. NOW." Oh yes, now might be the time to mention...we made the 2.5hr drive in an hour & 40 minutes.

We pulled into the ER driveway, Doctor ran in & had someone come out with a wheelchair then took off to park the car. I gave them what information I could & was taken up to triage to "assess my condition." Those contractions that were taking my breath away? Nah...not a good enough indication of active labor. The nurse covering the ER desk called my doctor to let him know I was at the hospital & his response was "Are you sure you have the right patient? She's getting induced on Monday."

We get up there, the nurse asks me if I'm an epidural kind of girl & I respond that I am a GIVE ME DRUGS NOW kind of girl. About that time my sister-in-law showed up to pick up Bear & helped me get undressed & on the bed. The nurse came back in, checked me, told me I was at a 6 & they had a room ready for me.

In the 10 minutes it took us to get up to the L&D floor & into a bed, I went from a 6 to an 8. I started crying & asked if I still had time for my epidural. They assured me that the anesthesiologist was on his way up. Not 2 minutes later, they checked me again & said the most terrifying words I think I've ever heard: "OH Honey! That baby is coming NOW!" Those nurses scrambled, robed & gloved in under a minute. It should also be noted that the anesthesiologist walked in during delivery. And my doctor? A cool 15 minutes after Roo was born.

Ya'll...if I was a laboring patient in a room within 50 feet of mine, I'd be demanding my epidural NOW. My screams were that bad. I honest to goodness could not control myself. Thankfully, Roo decided to keep up his hectic schedule of getting here RIGHT THIS VERY MINUTE. I pushed 4 times & less than 40 minutes after getting to the hospital, Roo-baby made his arrival at 4:37am.

I. Was. Exhausted. My legs were so weak & they wouldn't stop shaking. I took the IV painkillers. I was so sensitive that when the nurses tried to finish the delivery, I accidentally kicked one of them. It was close to 10 minutes later before Doctor asked me if I wanted to see my son. I looked up, took a good long look at him & pronounced "He looks just like Bear." And then closed my eyes & fell asleep.

The rest of our hospital stay was so incredibly uneventful; boring, even. Doctor wasn't allowed to go with Roo when they took him to the nursery. Something about HIPPA laws & all that junk. Apparently, Between midnight Tuesday & noon Thursday, there were about 20ish baby boys born. So they decided to make the circumcision process one big 'ol party. The nurses told us they started at #1 & just moved on down the line.

Thursday afternoon, my doctor's office called to remind me of my 38wk appointment the next day. I laughed. By that night, I was absolutely stir-crazy. I was bored, I felt fine, I'd been up walking around since about 8am, I missed my Bear. We ended up telling our nurse the next morning that we were ready to check out.

So there's the story of my little Roo-baby. Like I said...he's been surprising us since the moment we found out about him.

The many faces of Roo...

2am is not a socializing hour

Well, hello there, son.

I know you know who I am. Your momma, right?

We've spent almost 7 months together. I feel we're getting a pretty good grasp on what we each like, dislike, & expect from each other.

As much as I like you & think you are just about the best thing since a good cup of coffee, I'm still struggling to figure out the answer to this question.

Where in the hell did you get the idea that I enjoy a 2am party invitation?

In the past 7 months, when did I once give you the impression that I am cool with a 2am wakeup call?

Because in case you haven't noticed, I'm only nice for about the first 5 minutes that you are awake in the middle of the night. Anything past 5 minutes & my patience is on a downhill slide.

Oh & your little party trick of clawing at me & screaming in my face? It would take about 9 stiff drinks for me to find that funny.

So son? Honestly, it's in your best interest to either A) start sleeping thru the night or B) quit insisting that I get you out of bed & rock you back to sleep.

I'll see you tonight, Roo Baby.

Love,
Momma

Hurry up & wait...

It's Saturday morning, too early o'clock. My thoughts are still random. But that's only cool on Tuesdays, when you can give Keely a shoutout, right?

• After reading Keely's comment from RTT, I figured I'd better clarify. Roo's naked booty isn't actually scooting across the floor, thus potentially leaving hard to clean streaks across my living room. He's perfecting his army crawl lately so it's the man-bag that's draggin', hence my worry about rug burn.
  
  
• Bear has been a tiny terror lately. Two is a beast. Yesterday she decided the dresses at the bridal store made the perfect hiding spot. She also tried to knock over the half-naked mannequin. And dear Lord has this girl developed some kind of super strength. She almost managed to pull me down on top of her when she decided to suddenly become dead weight as I was attempting to pull her up off of the ground.
  
  
• I'm attempting to be resourceful with the Hubband's money & my time, so I decided to be all adult & stuff & actually sat down & made up a menu for the week. And then even got all thoughty & checked the fridge & pantry before I made up my grocery list. And whaddya know? Grocery shopping was a little less of a hair-pulling, baby-screaming affair because I had a list, we were in & out, & I saved about $30 because I wasn't just randomly tossing stuff in the cart.
  
  
• I'm relieved to know I'm not the only one who doesn't feel like bein' up in the PW's biz all the time. I was starting to feel like maybe there was something wrong with me, being from Oklahoma & all, not thinking she was just ohmygodtodiefor.
  
  
• So like a good wifey, I got up redonkulously early with the two tiny terrors so the Hubband could sleep in. Now we're all sitting around, waiting on him to decide to wake up & join us. I probably shouldn't complain too much since I asked begged demanded we go to Wichita to do some shopping today.
  
  Actual news coming later today...oh, I know...you're on the edge of your seat waiting for it...

Listen here, Sonny...

Dear Roo:

As I write this (at 12:11am, no less), you are laying on the floor next to the recliner.

{*Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech*

"Did she just say it's 12:11am & her 6 month old is still awake?"

Yes, folks. Yes I did. And if you have a sensible answer to the question as to WHY he is still awake, I'd love to hear it. Now back to our scheduled story.}

Anyways. It is now 12:13am. You have been put to sleep no less than four times since 8:30pm. Apparently you think I was just trying to put you down for a nap?

And while I think you are scrumptiously adorable, what with your fuzzy blond hair, ever expanding thighs & cheesy little grin, you, my son, have caused me quite the lack of sleep the past few nights.

Let's just say my Sleep Bank is quickly reaching a negative account balance.

So while I think it is ridiculously adorable that you are mastering your crawling technique & repeatedly slapping yourself in the face with a comb as you try to jam it in your mouth, I? I am unbelievably tired right now.

If you & Bear believed in sleeping in past 7:30am, I might be able to forgive your lapse in judgement this evening. However, since you will both be screaming for me in T-minus 7 hours & 13 minutes (because it is now 12:17am), I am not amused.

So, as a warning, you have 3 minutes to finish your shenanigans. Because when that clock hits 12:20am (Good Lord, I haven't been up this late since, well since about 3 months ago before you started picking even more ridiculous times of the night to demand your appetite be satisfied), playtime is over.

You hear that? You are now down to 2 minutes, so you better enjoy your last little bit of freedom. I'm going to bust out the swaddler, pull a Houdini on your heinie, and get you to sleep if it's the last thing I do tonight.

Heh. It will be the last thing I do tonight because as soon as you are off to la-la land, Momma's flopping her tired booty into bed & passing out.

Please don't take it personally, son. I love you & all of your adorableness. It's just hard to remember how adorable you are when I can barely keep my eyelids propped open.

Love,
Momma

{Mostly} Wordless Wednesday

"Well hello there, Ladies. Care to join me?"

Not at all...

Nope. They don't look alike at all.

Bear:



Roo:



They are both right at 6 months old.

All before noon...

12:45am: Roo starts fussing, flips himself over in bed, decides he must.eat.now. Stumble into kitchen, grab bottle from fridge, heat, trip over toys on way back to bedroom, shove bottle in mouth. (Baby's mouth, not mine).
12:53am: Drop bottle off side of bed, immediately fall back asleep.
4:30am: Bear sneaks into our room, gets 2 inches from Hubband's face & lets out ear piercing scream to let us know she's awake & in our room.
4:31am: Roo is now awake, thanks to big sis, demands another bottle. Repeat scene from 12:45am.
6:30am: Bear is wide awake. Dig around in bed until pacifier is found, tell her normal people are still asleep at this time.
6:32am: Bear gets in Roo's face, demands he "hiccup" (wake up), manages to wake him up.
6:33am: Friggin' great. Both kids are awake before their normal time once again.
6:35am: Hubband demands to know when I'm getting up with the kids. Princess needs his beauty sleep, ya know?
6:40am: Shut up. Both kids fell back asleep.
6:42am: Roo spits out his bink, rolls over, gets pissed & screams. Scramble for the bink & his "blue", get him back to sleep.
7:00am: Bear is awake again. I think my luck is running out.
7:05am: "Daddy, HICCUP"
7:06am: "MOMMA HICCUP. CUP? Pink? Bink? HICCUP"
7:15am: Give up. Drag kids out of bed.
7:18am: Get coffee pot going, make cup of milk, make bottle, all with one hand.
7:25am: Try to catch the local news break, hoping the weather is good. Try to hear the forecast over ever loudening demands of Dora? Dora? Diego? Ming Ming? MING Ming? MING MING! Give up, change the channel.
7:30am: Change diapers
7:35-8:20am: Try to keep my eyes open
8:20am: Hubband's alarm goes off. Bear runs to bedroom, bangs on door & yells "DADDY HICCUP" Hubband ignores her.
8:30am: Alarm goes off for the 2nd time. I shout "It's getting late" which is answered with a "hmmppphhhh"
8:32am: Hubband wants to know where his clothes are. Bite my tongue to keep from responding "in the closet dummy". Get up & toss his clothes onto the bed.
8:45am: Hubband is out the door for work. Look at the kids already going crazy & wonder how early is too early for our daily Wal-Mart run. Why isn't it Tuesday so we can go to playgroup???
9:00am: Breakfast for Bear. She demands "starros" (strawberries). Meltdown ensues when I inform her she ate the last of them at dinner.
9:15-10:00am: The kids are playing. Attempt to get the kitchen cleaned up & get out of my PJ's.
10:05: Both kids are rubbing their eyes. Gee, guys, here's an idea...SLEEP PAST 6:30 & you won't be tired so early!
10:15: Two babies in bed. Clean or catch up on emails & blogs? Eh. I can clean around them later.
11:15: How do they manage to wake up at the exact same time every time? Even when neither one is loud enough to wake the other up, they still get up at the same time.
11:30: Decide we need (scratch that, I need) to get out of the house. Wal-Mart here we come. Swing through a drive-thru to pick up some lunch for Hubband. As soon as Bear realizes there's a bag of food in the front seat, she begins saying "Uh huh. Food. Uh huh. Food."
11:35: Pull into Wal-Mart. Answer requests to "See Dad? See Dad?" with "Yes, as soon as we get inside." Try to reassure the demands for "NOW" with "Yes, Bear. We're going now."
11:40: Try not to beat my head into the handlebar of the cart when I realize the overly friendly door greeter is working for the 10923808123 day in a row. This means we'll be stuck in the doorway for 5 minutes as she tries, once again unsuccessfully, to get Bear to say something more than "Hi. Baby? Cah-uh. See Dad."
11:45: Manage to get to the pharmacy. Bear says "DADDY!" All 10 customers waiting in line let out a simultaneous "Awww!" When Hubband doesn't respond immediately, Bear pulls out her new trick. "HEY CHASE!"
11:46: Here comes one of the techs with yet another cookie for Bear. Whatever. It keeps her happy while we're shopping. Leave Hubband's food on the counter, tell Bear we'll see him later.
11:55: Diapers? Check. Wipes? Check. Baby food? Check. Chocolate? Check. Get stuck in the slowest checkout line ever invented. Load the kids up & head home.
12:05: Sweet silence. Sleeping babies. Promise myself to get started on the house before Hubband comes home at 1:30.

The neglected blog

Geesh. I've been here, just brain dead.

In the past 6 weeks, we've managed to conquer colic, quit nursing, get through a family-wide cold, yet another ear infection for Miss C, pneumonia for Roobaby, & getting my last 2 wisdom teeth pulled.

Colic: Not sad to see you go! It was like a little switch just flipped in Roo's brain. And within a week of getting past colic, I started to dry up. We were back to nursing every hour-hour & a half during the day & every two hours at night. There was much pacing & rocking & pacing & shushing & hey-did I mention the pacing? I've got a mini racetrack imprinted on my living room floor. There was even a 5am drive around town to get him to fall asleep.

And this all happened at the same time all four of us were sick. So, back to the doctor we went. Let me start by saying that in one week, we were at a doctor's office three days in a row. First for Roo's 4 month checkup & Bear's possible (and confirmed) double ear infection. The next day it was off to the orthopedist for Roo's follow-up on his hips. Then on Thursday, it was back to the doctor because he was running a 102.3. After countless peeks in his ears, a set of chest x-rays & a consult with a pediatric radiologist, early stage pneumonia it was.

One frantic phone call to Hubband later, Bear was sitting in the pharmacy at Wal-Mart with him while I took Roo to the hospital for bloodwork. Thankfully, no RSV to add on top of all of this. Add in a round of antibiotics & a second set of chest x-rays & one week later he was good to go. I'm pretty sure we've already met our deductible for the year :)

Two weeks later, it's off to the dentist for me to have my final two wisdom teeth pulled. Holy hell. If the first two had been like this, no way would I have EVER willingly sat in that chair again. Throwing up, bone fragments, dry sockets, having my gum packed-another miserable two weeks. Now add into all the medical excitement, Bear's appointment with the ENT. Bet you can't guess where this one is going...yep, tubes at the end of the month.

Oh! And the drying up. It sucked. At least it was over fast though. I was an emotional wreck about it, alternating between lets do the formula & get it over with back to nooo, I can't give up the nursing! He was not happy about it. And he chose to prove this to me by not willingly taking a bottle for THIRTY HOURS straight. I would have to wait until he fell asleep & sneak the bottle in his mouth, where he would proceed to drink about 2oz before he woke up & got pissed all over again. The first week we were on formula, he woke up every.two.hours. to eat. After about a week, we realized regular formula wasn't agreeing with him. Messy red poops almost had us back at the doctor, yet again. We've switched him to soy, though, & I still can't get over what a 180 his attitude did now that the poor guy knows what it feels like to have a full tummy. We have good naps! Bedtime is...better. He's still waking every 4-5hrs to eat but it will get better. And not only is he chugging about 26-30oz a day (can we say oooiiiiiiink?) but he's eating some foods now, too. I don't know if you've ever had a baby on soy formula but it makes it hard for them to go. He was having adult poops, not the gummy poops you expect to see from a baby. So a few nights ago I picked up a jar of prunes to try out, not expecting much luck. He ate half a jar the first night! Again, with me now...oooiiinnnkkk! This kid will now eat about a jar & a half of baby food a day.

So. That's where the past 6 weeks have gone for me. Add in 2 snowstorms, an ice storm, a 4hr drive to my sister's for Christmas with my dad & his wife, 2 sick kids that weekend, and countless requests from family for me to pack up the kids & make the 2 hour drive to see them because they are too busy/overwhelmed/(ahem-lazy) to make the drive to see us, & I can see how we're already in the middle of February.

Oh-and a late happy birthday to my old man, who turned 26 this week. Yikes-that means 25 is 4 short months away for me. 25...the hump of your 20's! You're no longer a young 20 something but rather on the downhill slide to 30 :)