The Call

The nurse at Abby's school called me today to tell me that Abby stuck a raisin up her nose.
We'll talk about this later.

Procrastination Station

Since I havent' blogged in over a month I thought that now, when I have a gillion things on my plate, I woudl start back up again.
What has been happening here? I'll give you the highlights.
Nora is almost potty trained and I feel like she did it herself the same way Abby did. Abby is a full fledged kindergartner with an attitude. Apparently this is normal that all kindergartners go through this adjustment of being in 'big kid' school so they try to see what they can get away with. It is killing me. Nora is going to be Conky (the robot from PeeWee's Playhouse) for Halloween and despite my efforts to persuade her otherwise Abby is going as a Monarch Butterfly Fairy Princess. My mom and I had a fight because she completely screwed me last week and left me in a lurch. I had a colonoscopy and really enjoyed the drugs they gave me (it was like a wonderful nap). I don't sleep at night any more. We need a new washing machine. We are getting new windows. We are rearranging our house. Tim wants a new TV and I think his desire for a new TV is making our old TV sad and it is not working well. I think that is about it.
I saw this awesome t-shirt the other day that said: I fucked Sarah Palin! I voted for Obama.
I am still laughing about that.

Minivans and Power Tools

Tim has joined a Bag-O league at a local bar. He is on a team with our Republican neighbor and got into this through a friend of Abby's dad. They are outside "practicing" and so far I have heard them discuss the merits of the Ford Windstar over the Toyota Sienna and how Matco Tools are better than Snap On. Is this what happens when you give yourself over to Suburbia?

In other news we are two days into kindergarten and loving it. We had a fantastic trip to the Motor City to celebrate Clementine's 3rd birthday this weekend, and life is good. I have more sewing projects than I know what to do with and the PTA is stalking me.
Life is good.

And we're back

She got off the bus today wearing a necklace that she made at school that said "I survived the first day of kindergarten".
I want to know where mine is.

And so it begins.....

Kindergarten starts tomorrow.
We have laid out our clothes, picked out our snack, and got our backpack ready.
Do you think kindergarten is ready for Miss Thing?

Me Without You

I am losing my sidekick.
For the last almost 6 year I have spent each day with Abby by my side, and now the public school system is breaking up the band. School is starting next week and I have to get ready to pack my kid up and ship her off on the bus every morning to kindergarten. While I am totally excited that she is going to school and is growing up and is so totally and completely awesome in every way, I can't help but be a little bummed that we are now tied to someone else's calendar.
I am now the parent of a school aged child, do you know what that means? I should now plan all vacations, doctor appointments and fun outings around days off of school. I can no longer wake up and decide to go to the Jelly Belly factory in Wisconsin. I can no longer go to Detroit for long weekends. I can no longer declare it 'jammy day' and allow up to loll around all day watching TV and playing board games.
Major bummer.
The upside is that now going to the doctor while she should be in school will be fun. And we will have some much needed structure to our days. And she gets to ride the bus which is something that I dreamed of as a kid. And she gets to make new friends (who may or may not attend the same school as her for 1st through 5th grades thanks to the asinine school board). The upsides go on....
As with the start of every school year there are pros and cons, but I can't help but feel like we are turning a page here. We are no longer the parents of a toddler named Abby, or even a preschooler named Abby. My girl is off to kindergarten and I hope that they are ready for her because she is the best pal, buddy, sidekick, partner in crime, cohort, and crony in town. She is wicked smart, terribly funny and adorably serious about things. She is intense, and silly, and frustrating. She can be divinely irritating and amazingly helpful. As I tell her all the time, she is the bomb.
I can't help but think that Nora and I are going to be a little lonely without her around to orchestrate shows and plan tea parties all day, but really we are easing into this whole school thing.
After all kindergarten is only half the day......

Single Parenting

It is no secret that I am the alpha parent around these parts. I spend by far way more time with the girls than the hub does, which is fine since someone needs to make some money. I spend a lot more time as a single parent than most at home moms do because of Tim's crappy work schedule. He is often gone before they wake up, and most nights doesn't come home until just before bedtime or well after, which means I perform my minstrel show all damn day long. I also travel with my kids alone which is fun (I'm not going to wait around for hub to sack up and ask for time off- the ladies and I have places to go!), but also causes trouble between Tim and I ( I hate hate hate that he gets multiple days and nights alone in our house and I struggle to get a few minutes).
For the most part I am down with this set up. However, there are times when this is kind of annoying....

.....like this morning when it took about 45 minutes for him to air up the bike tires before we left for the farmers market this morning. Seriously,the ladies I could have been there and on my way home in the amount of time it took for him to get ready to leave.

........like when I am gone for an entire day and I come home and the house is a complete sty. What the fuck. When I am alone all day with the kids I can manage to get dishes into the sink (at least off the table) and seem to be able to get the toys off the floor and also do my "job" of keeping our household running. I'm not a superhero, I don't have more hours in my day than he gets- what's the deal? I am also able to entertain the children for up to 12 consecutive hours without turning on the TV- go me.

.....like when he spends most of the weekend yelling at the girls. Not really berating them yelling at them, but more barking at them for being kids. I am all for well behaved children, and I am the first to admit that telling someone to get their shoes on 114 times is way annoying, but the amount of barking that goes on is painful to listen to. I used to joke around and call him Bella Kyroli, but it is kind of not funny anymore. What sucks is that I have 2 choices on how to handle this- I can say something which then results in a "fine then I won't parent at all", or I can say nothing and allow him to make himself an ogre in his kids' eyes. I know that this is the only way he knows how to parent, and I am trying to show him other ways to do things, but he is kind of stubborn and believes his way is working just fine.

......like when he 'checks out' and does nothing but follow me around and wait for direction.

......like when he spends 3 hours washing the car when the lawn needs to be mowed, the kids tended to, or the house cleaned (all part of my job description).

Now I know being a true single parent would be rough, but there are Sunday nights, after long weekends of togetherness when I wonder......


P.S. How excited are we that Michael Phelps not only won all his gold medals, but that he also got a good PR person who gave him something to say other than "I am at a loss for words" to say in interviews (not the lame ones with that woman who pulls them aside just after they have won or lost, but the legitimate ones with Bob Costas, who seriously needs to chill out on the Grecian Formula)

What makes your world go round?

I spent today in Milwaukee at the home of Mrs. Materialism listening to her talk about her upcoming move and her Brazilian cherrywood floors. Her husband, Dr. Materialism, has been looking all over the country for a job as a radiologist that will pay him the gazillion dollars he believes he is worth. They won't be staying in Milwaukee because he can only make $300,000, however if they move to the outer reaches of northern Michigan he will make $896,472, with a huge signing bonus and some other nonsense. Mrs. M doesn't want to move there because she doesn't want to be cold, or that far from a Target (fair enough).
When I asked her where Dr. M would be happiest, her answer didn't surprise me, but it did annoy me. He wants to be where ever will pay him the most money (no big surprise there). It makes me sad that he is a doctor who is not a doctor to help people or because he has a passion for science, he is a doctor because he wants to make a buck. And she supports this because she wants the lifestyle of a woman with a husband who pulls down a pretty good buck.
Whatever.
It is so weird to me that they truly believe that their happiness lies in a pay stub. Money makes their world go round, and as I was driving home I tried to figure out what makes my world go round.
I think it is the happiness of my kids and things like laughter, good tv, naps, helping people, and enough hugs and kisses for everyone make my world go round. Sure it would be great to have a giant pile of money for all those things, but that is unrealistic. If given the option I would pass on the cash and take the happy things. Is that weird?
The Materialism family is positively exhausting. I will say my little demon God son has really mellowed into this adorable little guy who hates wearing pants and loves growing things in the garden. There is hope for him yet.....

Going for the Gold

Is anyone watching the Olympics?
They are kind of taking over my life.
We had an impromptu party Friday night to watch the opening ceremonies, which was fun with the exception of the Republican from down the street. Anytime this guy comes over he stays way too late, and manages to offend my sensibilities with his socio/political beliefs while drinking all our beer. Seriously, after going off about how we should drill the hell out of Alaska so that he can fuel up his NASCAR a little cheaper he started a lecture about Barack Obama that ended in him calling me a baby killer. Then he told me that his cousin has "epilepticsy" because his aunt had an abortion and God was punishing her.
The problem is that all this is done in a nice neighborly manner where he doesn't really take offense to me telling him he sounds like a red neck so therefore I should take no offense to him calling me a baby killer. I guess I generally surround myself with people who share at least some of my ideals so it is kind of shocking/annoying when someone so outspokenly disagrees with me. He really sounded like a moron telling me about Barack Obama's push to brainwash people with his blackness.
I don't know what it is, when Chach bashes Obama, it doesn't strike the same nerve because I feel like we at least have some common ground since he so actively supported Hillary's bid. Not that I won't love him a little less if he votes for John McCain, because hell yeah, I will, but I at least he is not doing to because Fox News told him to.
And another thing.......
The whole New Yorker cartoon- why are we talking about this? Why are people so offended by seeing a black and white drawing of what every anti-Obama email forward has been saying for months? Maybe I don't get it, but really is it that big of a deal? Every stereotype portrayed in that cartoon found its way into my neighbor's litany of reasons not to vote for him.

But anyway, the Olympics are kind of my favorite. I remember watching the winter Olympics in Italy with a newborn Nora, and making a "leafy crown" for Abby while watching the Olympics from Athens with her. Sure they get boring, but Tivo has totally changed the face of it all for me. The one thing I can't handle are the announcers. I yell at them constantly for being mean about the athletes. Can't they just be a little supportive? And Bob Costas' chat with George W. was more painful than watching any of the gymnasts fall, but for the most part the Olympics make me happy. I want to know what Michael Phelps is listening to on his iPod, and I want to know how one decides to become a synchronized diver. I also want it on the record that volleyball is boring and that I want to punch all of the roaming camera men who get close to and zoom in on athletes who have just lost .And did you see Bela Kyroli's plaid jacket-hot!

I just love the Olympics.

Blast from the past

I did something today that I haven't done in a long time. I cut the bejeesus out of my leg while shaving in the shower this morning. Seriously it is like the worst wound in the history of shaving. We're talking 4 inch gash on my right shin. My bathroom looked like a crime scene by the time I go the 8 band aids on it, and while it doesn't really hurt I am slightly concerned that it has not stopped bleeding. The big bummer is that now my tan is shot.
That's right I said it, I am officially working on my tan this summer. I know, I know, in this time of melanoma we should be covered form head to toe in SPF 1,000 and wearing large brimmed hats and turtlenecks to the pool, but this summer I am going with the bacon theory- fat looks better tan.
Not only has my blogging been nonexistent since the spring, my working out has as well.
Here are things that have not- my crafting, my tv watching, my Wii playing, and a whole litany of other time sucks (like Facebook- I am now 'friends' with people I haven't laid eyes on in 15 years and, to be honest, i feel a little weird about it).
Details on the healing process to follow.....

Check out what we have been up to since April.

Stay Tuned

I'm on my way back, really I am.

Good Fences

I had 3 goals this week, one of which was to get my whole yard edged and looking pretty.
I need to send a memo to my lonely neighbor (Kimmie Gibler's mom) that me being in my yard is not an invitation to chat. It is not my way of secretly trying to signal to her that I want nothing more than for her to come over and talk my ear off.
My presence in my yard is also not a request for other neighbors walking their pets to come and do any of the following:
-ask how much our brick work and landscaping cost
-suggest ways in which I could "enhance" my yard
-offer unsolicited advice about my child rearing/lawn mowing/car parking
-comment on the number of dandelions growing in my yard
-allow their dog "do his business" on my yard then ask me to just rake it up with the other stuff I have to take care of

Sometimes I hate being a homeowner........

Full House

Do you remember last summer when I would mention my racist neighbor who would come by and just lurk and hang out anytime we were outside? I have taken to calling him Kimmie Gibler and I am astounded that no one gets the joke.

We went out Saturday night with some friends and one of them they call Bob Sagget because he "looks just like him!". Really he only looks like him after 3 personal pitchers and a shot or 3.

We went to see the Korean import today. All is well with them. His mama is slowly adjusting to new motherhood. They seem to be doing really well and I sometimes forget that they have to worry about "attachment issues" and what not. I loved hearing about their trip to Korea, but I was sad when she told me that someone on the subway in Seoul asked them why they weren't allowed to adopt a baby in their own country. She replied with a "How rude!" and all I could think of was Stephanie Tanner. Who, incidentally, just had a baby named Zoie, which seriously? It is a great name, but better without the 'i', don't you think?

We also went to the park today to blow off some steam before hopping in the car to see our new friend. Abby's friend Jackie (who I think I hate) asked Abby if she wanted to play "Olson Twins" which made me wonder if they were going to design a clothing line and stand in the corner smoking, trying to hide from the ever present paparazzi. When I asked Jackie's mom where she had heard of the Olson Twins she told me they get their DVDs from the library "all the time" and that they really "instill good virtues" when little Jackie watches them. Isn't that her parent's job?

Since last week's ER, which is sitting on my Tivo is not going to watch itself I am going to watch John Stamos try to get it on with the chick from Freaks and Geeks. No not that chick, the other one.

Now all I need is a run in with the older sister and the other creepy "uncle" who lived in the basement and I have the whole cast of Full House. Or I need a life. One of the two.

Taxman

Yesterday I got a frantic phone call from Tim at about 11:30 am. According to our accountant (o.k., I need to clarify- he is my father in law's accountant and since he deems Tim and I to dim to do our own taxes we get our stuff done for free every year) we owe the United States Government $5,574.00.
Excuse me?

According to our accountant we made more money last year than we ever have (sounds good, right), but due to the way in which Tim gets paid by his cheapskate asshole boss (his father) we are being taxed on money we have not yet seen. Which begs the question- where is said money? Apparently the accountant was horrified that my father in law withholds earnings like this and that there is no consistency to Tim's income. When confronted with this by the accountant, my father in law insisted that what he was doing was "teaching Tim a lesson". I think that class was dismissed when the accountant told my FIL that this practice was bad bad bad business and that it was illegal depending on how you look at it.

Now I don't know about any of the rest of you, but $5,574.00 is kind of a lot of money to us. While we technically have the money it is requiring some robbing Peter to pay Paul for bills this month so as to not completely destroy our savings and yet still pay Uncle Sam by the 15th.

Have I mentioned lately that I really dislike being a grown up.

Feo

Yesterday the crowned prince of Batavia arrived safe and sound after his journey home from Korea. Our dear friends are now the proud parents of the cutest Korean ever. They had a little "meet and greet" yesterday afternoon so that all their middle aged women friends (she is a teacher and he is the principal of an elementary school- they are surrounded by children and middle aged women all day long) could say that they had seen the baby then get out of their grill so they could work on being a family.
Not ones to ever miss a party (or our chance to meet Theo) the girls and I headed out to see the kid. We couldn't come empty handed so Abby made him about 100 cards and pictures- all addressed to "Feo". I was really impressed by how well my kids grasped the concept of adoption. While they were disappointed that he wasn't up to doing more playing it was so fun to finally meet this little soul who we have all been so anxiously waiting for.
They talk about the red string that connects us all, and I feel like I have seen the red string in action. This little boy was born over 6,000 miles away to parents who wanted something different for him than they could give. Six months ago he was designated as my friend's baby, and I think from that moment on he has had all their love and all the good wishes of everyone they know raining down on him. This was obviously meant to be. He has taken to them, as they have to him.
While their transition into parenthood will not be without trials, who's is? I had to bite my tongue while she took his temperature (for the 5th time) and fretted over a 99.2 degree fever (the kid was held all day and was wearing 2 shirts, a hoodie, pants, and socks in a room full of people- of course he was hot!). I said nothing about the net over the crib, and I didn't laugh when I heard that she put sunscreen on him to get from the airport to the car.
I can't tell who is luckier, sweet little Ha Bhin (his Korean name) or his wonderful parents.

A Memo to the Grocery Baggers of America

Hi Friends,
Thank you so much for bagging groceries. I am sure that it is probably a pretty sucky job, and I applaud you for stepping up to the plate and making it so that I do not have to bag my groceries myself. While I appreciate you and your efforts, I do need to make a small request.... When I come in and the cashier hands you my reuseable grocery bags could you a) not look at them in disgust, and b) could you please please please not put things in plastic bags then in my reuseable ones? The thing is, I don't want any more plastic bags, really I don't. If I did, I would not bother to bring my reuseable ones in (see how that works). Also, while you are at it could you also not throw the bag away if I have refused it and taken the single item, such as a loaf of bread, out of said bag. Really, my bread does not need it's own plastic bag, and if you really want to get down to it it is technically already in one so putting it in another one then in reuseable bag makes no sense. Really it doesn't. I know what bread looks like, I know not to squish it too much, and I also know that squished bread won't kill a person, so please don't try to point out my bread to prevent said squishing by putting it in a bag that I don't want. And if you do this and I refuse the bag please just put it back on those little hook things rather than shoving it in the garbage can.
Can we work together on this, please? Or can you just move the hell out of my way and let me do it myself? Honestly, I usually try to get the lane with no bagger to avoid this all together, if you must know.
Thanks!
The Lady With the Reuseable Bags

Just Like Labor

Last week our dear friends who are adopting a baby from Korea got their travel call.
Now, in a few short hours they are going to meet their son.
Check it out- www.theoadoption.blogspot.com
If you need me, that is where I'll be.....

Yawn

I am watching this documentary that I tivoed from the Sundance Channel about "utopian livint" in places like Celebration on the grounds of Disney World. Unhappy with that this guy moved to a "shared living community". I am riding this edge of being creeped out and fascinated by this. These people live in West Virginia in a "neighborhood" with smaller homes and one large "community house" where all mail and periodicals are delivered, and the "community members" meet on a daily basis for group meals. Odd?

I can't find Abby's backpack. Any ideas?

I painted the kitchen this weekend, and I love love love it. My mom came in and looked at it then asked me if I was going to repaint it. She is back from Florida and her visit today made me want to poke my eyes out. I am so going to hell.

Today is my dad's birthday. I am a bad daughter because I didn't get anything in the mail for him. I am spending my Easter there with my kids and no husband, isn't that enough?

Seriously, did I leave Abby's back pack at school?

I am going to a conference with Abby's teachers tomorrow. Why does this make me nervous? I am sure that they will tell me wonderful things because she is a wonderful kid, but last year they told me she was a little spacy and I have been neurotic about it ever since.

I have a million of sewing projects that I want to work on, but I am severely lacking in the motivation department. Nora is trying to drop her nap and I am a mess with the time change which is hurting any kind of ability to do anything other than clean up after the tornado that seems to hit my house at 2:30 pm. I need the snow to melt so we can go outside and frolick.

Steamed

I am sitting here waiting for my tiny bathroom to fill with steam so that I can take Miss Nora in there and exorcise the deamon in her lungs. We were free of any kind of cough the whole time we were in Florida, but as soon as we got home it came back. Last night at midnight she woke up with a terrible croup-y cough that breaks my heart. We took her outside, and did what they say to do and it helped, but I slept the fitful mother's sleep that was interrupted several times by her sad barking cough.
I took her to the allergist today, sure that he was going to tell us that we had to get rid of Vince, our beloved cat, but alas the tests were inconclusive. Yes, she has a slight allergy to cats and dogs and pollen of some sorts, but it is too cold for pollen, and the pet allergy is not that bad. So she is taking this non steroid thing that should help her breath better (of course my mother in law is on the same medication and she says it doesn't do anything for anyone anywhere so I am wasting my time and I should go directly to allergy shots every two weeks like she did when she was a kid because she had/has the worst allergies of anyone anywhere. Seriously, who won't anyone just allow my kid to be sick and not tell me how much worse they have had it?).

10 minutes later.....

The steam shower did approximately nothing to help her. She is kind of sleeping, but continues to cough and cry.

What do I do here?
The last time I took her into the doctor for a walk in visit when she had the croup the doctor listened to her chest and shooed me away telling me Abby had pink eye and that Nora was fine (it wasn't my regular doctor). I know that this gets better in the morning, but my kid can't seem to get all the air she needs right now and it stresses me out. Am I totally neurotic if I call the pediatrician tonight? Will I hate myself tomorrow if I don't call tonight and I take her in tomorrow to find out I should have called? Will this just correct itself? Why is this so difficult?

Bowling for Baby Showers

I have been to two bowling alleys and a baby shower in the last 24 hours. It would have been better if the baby shower had been at a bowling alley, but who am I to complain.
We also went to this weird cocktail party last night. I'm sorry, it was a wine and cheese party. There is a difference.
Abby has show and tell tomorrow.

We're back from Florida, by the way.

The Happiest Place on Earth

So we are off in just a few short hours to Disney World.
We will be traveling with my mother in law and meeting my father in law in Orlando where we will spend 3 nights at Disney then 2 nights at "the condo".
I have not stopped moving today in preparation to travel. Tim travels about as well as a china doll by pony express, and his mom is not much better, so I am totally looking forward to our 7 am flight.
I posted some new pictures on Flickr, more to come after our trip.....
Anyone need anything from Disney World?

There's No Place Like Home

Yesterday morning I took a shower which is kind of a big deal. It is rare that I actually get one in before nap or bed time, but I had things to do, people to see, and place to go.
So I left the house armed with my girls and my to do list and a pretty tight schedule so that we could fit everything in. We hit the grocery store, the mailbox, then a friend's house to drop something off. Next was the pediatrician (to make sure Nora was really ok), then back home to clean and do laundry and get set for the week. It was there that we took a small detour.
After a quick listen to Nora's lungs the same doctor who told me a week ago that what was going on with my babe was viral, announced that she had pneumonia, and it didn't sound good. She prescribed an antibiotic and kept trying to get a decent pulse ox reading, but couldn't get one above the mid 80s. This is bad.
Now let me rewind a bit to last week...We went on Monday and her lungs were clear. I made then cancelled an appointment on Wednesday because I was worried, but then feared that I was being totally neurotic. My regular doctor (not the one I had seen) assured me that he had been seeing a lot of the same symptoms and told me to wait until about a week to ten days of symptoms. So I stayed up with her at night holding her while she coughed and hacked then went back to bed to listen to Tim tell me that she has the same thing he does. I talked about taking her in to the doctor on Friday, but Tim told me that I was crazy and that I should wait until Monday. He knows how she feels, he has the same cough, remember, "she's fine". So against my better judgement I let someone who spends a small fraction of the time that I do with her tell me how to handle this.
Bad Idea.
So yesterday, after 2 nebulizer treatments, her pulse ox didn't improve so we were told to head on over to the hospital and get checked in for a chest x-ray, IV fluids, and antibiotics. Needless to say I was not prepared for this.
Once we got in the car I drove to where I had cell service (my service sucks these days and it is killing me) and called Tim who yelled at me (more toward me) and was totally unhelpful. I then called my cousin (who is moving out of the state in a few days and had many other things to do) who dropped everything to come and get Abby so that I could head off to the hospital with Nora.
We got to the pediatric ward and while waiting to get her x-ray I made a million phone calls to get Abby taken care of for the rest of the day and today. My mother in law stepped up, which is huge, as did a lot of my friends. Not Tim, he was worried about his hockey game that he didn't want to miss and having to work late. He wasn't worried about coming down to visit his baby, or bringing his wife a change of clothes, a tooth brush, or dinner. He wasn't worried about the groceries that were still in the back of my car from earlier. He was worried about his hockey game. (You think that is ridiculous, just wait, he makes another dazzling appearance in this story shortly)
So we go get a chest x-ray, and my poor baby rode through the halls in a wheel chair looking pitiful. The chest x-ray showed that she has pretty bad pneumonia in her right lung, but it should be treatable with hardcore antibiotics. They poked and prodded her little arms and wrists trying to get an IV started, but she was just dehydrated enough to make it almost impossible so they ended up deciding to just give her shots of the antibiotics. Holding her down while this bitchy nurse jiggled a needle in her arm was one of the most awful things I have had to do as a parent. It is so hard to remember that it is going to make her better when she is in so much pain.
She was a trooper, however, and survived that ordeal (I think the visit to the treasure box helped). They ordered the antibiotics and again we waited. Once she fell a sleep for the night they finally came in so we had to wake her up and give her a giant shot in her little leg. HSe fell into fitful sleep after that, and I would be lying if I said it was a good night for either of us.
Not 10 years ago I found it acceptable to sleep with another full sized human being in a twin sized bed. Come on, we all did this in college- the boyfriend sleeps over and somehow you manage to sleep 2 in a twin bed. Why is it virtually impossible to do this with a toddler? Seriously, she should take up less room right? Wrong. Between that and the coughing and the machine beeping when her pulse ox got too low and the nurse coming in every hour to take her temperature (seriously folks, she hasn't had a fever since we got here, why wake her up to do this?) and the fact that I was still wearing jeans and the strange shirt I left the house in earlier it was a bad night.
We survived and the antibiotics are doing their thing. The doctor came in this morning and told me that we could go home after the next dose of antibiotics which she could have at 5pm. So we waited, and waited, and waited. We killed time around the hospital (as much as we could in her mask and hospital gown). It was a long day, but we entertained ourselves. My mother in law called no less that 11 times, and as we were getting discharged by the nicest doctor ever Tim called.
I answered the phone and asked if I could call him back. He said no, so I assumed that there was something more pressing than his child having pneumonia. Alas, he was calling to demand that I tell him exactly when we would be home because his dad needed a ride home from the airport. I promptly hung up on him and unplugged the phone.
So we made it home tonight and the patient is resting comfortably in her own bed . There is still some coughing, but her sparkle is returning and I think we are on the mend. I have so much complaining to do about my husband, but no energy to do it. I am horrified at how selfish he has been and how inconsiderate. The sad part is that I wish I were more surprised by his actions.
As my grandmother would say, "Lord give me strength".
Everyone has told me I should find a new pediatrician, but really I don't blame them for missing this. I should have trusted my motherly instincts and and taken her in earlier and not been so worried about being neurotic. I am neurotic, I guess I should stop trying to fight it.

Did I mention we are leaving for Disneyworld with Tim's parents on Thursday morning?

Down With Disease

Once again, Eleanor is sick. last week she started this high fever thing and it has only gone down hill. Her fever has hovered around 102 (gone up a few points and down a few here and there), and she is just pathetic. She has had little to drink and has thrown up everything she has eaten for the past three days. All she does is lay on my bed moaning and coughing, sometimes crying. It is so sad.
I am not quite sure what to do here. I called the pediatrician's office when she spiked the fever, but then felt like a fool because when they called to follow up she was fine. I have tried to keep her hydrated and comfortable, but she just lays on my bed watching TV and sleeping. I took her in to the walk in hours at the ped's office this morning, they told me it is just viral and I should just keep doing what I'm doing. Nora then whined and coughed on my bed all afternoon. I got her to eat a little which she promptly threw up. I finally put her to bed tonight with a temp of 102, and I am completely perplexed about what to do next.
I don't want to be the mom who keeps taking her kid to the doctor looking for a different answer, but I am seriously worried. She has hardly moved off my bed today, and the vomit is totally stressing me out. She has lost 2 lbs, which is kind of a big deal since she was 30 to start with. I feel like she is wasting away in front of me.
Am I being dramatic? Is my pediatrician's office going to think I am crazy if I call again tomorrow?
Why is parenting so hard?

Hot Wheels

Not to be outdone by my sister and her fleet of cars (seriously, they have 5 cars for 2 drivers, and I think they would have more if they could) Tim bought a car today. El Diablo, his Dodge SRT4 (its a Neon, but we don't talk about that), got its ass kicked by the winter storms we have been hit with lately, so Tim hopped onto Auto Trader and found himself a "beater car". We are now the proud owners of a 1987 Jeep Grand Cherokee. Hooray.
I am not mad that Tim bought a car for the purpose of getting him safely to and from work during the winter months. In fact I kind of support the idea of a more sensible car than El Diablo (I call it that because there are flames painted on the side and it has a big handle of a spoiler on the back, also it kind of irks him when I call it that because he is sensitive about the fact he drives a Neon). I just wish he would have been more sensible about buying a sensible car.
This Jeep represents a lot of my issues with Tim. Sure we talked about the purchase before he made it, but not really. To me it would have made sense to have saved the $800 he spent on it and put it away and added to it here and there so we could buy a car to replace mine without having to trade it in (this isn't just me wanting a new car, it is something we have been talking about and plan to do in the next year or so).
But TIm needed instant gratification.
So now we have a new old car and our new house fund didn't get the transfusion it needed this month. Tim and I seem to have the same financial goals, but for whatever reason he is not as focused on them as I am. I suppose we could start storing stuff in the back of the new (old) Jeep....

Primary Concerns

So tomorrow is Super Tuesday.
I was planning on not voting in the primary because the pain of choosing a candidate has been unbearable, but I feel like I have to have a voice in some of the local stuff around here so it is off to the polls I go.
Of course I have my mom in my ear complaining about me wanting to vote for a democrat on any level, let alone a Clinton. And yes, Hillary Clinton kind of scares me, but I am kind of indifferent about which democrat gets the nod. I like Obama, he is, for lack of a better word, fine. Hillary doesn't make me want to move out of the country (although she does make me nervous), and I like John Edwards (and his pretty pony hair) but he is no longer an option. I just feel like anything is better than what we've got going on now....
So I guess my dilemma is this: would I be voting for Hillary just because she is a woman? How can I tell my little girls that they can do and be whatever they want and help teach them to be supportive of other women doing and being whatever they want if I don't completely support Hillary? I know I know they are too young to understand, but I think that the act of electing a woman to the highest office in the land lays much firmer groundwork for future generations of women than just watching her run does.
I say that Hillary scares me because I don't believe that one can raise the kind of money that she has and still maintain her integrity and not owe anyone something somewhere. And the idea that Ann Coulter would support her makes me scared. I don't ever want it to be said that Ann Coulter and I have anything in common. That, and she is, after all, a Clinton.
I like Obama, I do, but as a resident of his great state I can't help but be a little annoyed that during his senatorial campaign he denied any interest in the presidency and now has kind of abandoned his post in Illinois politics. That aside, I think he is a slid candidate who provides people with a sense of hope that is much needed in this time of war and legislation in the bedroom.
Either way the election goes we are pretty much guaranteed a huge regime change, and we are all getting a front row seat to some serious history making... a woman or and African American president is huge for the history books when you look at the state of political affairs 100 years ago. The problem is if you are voting solely on which minority you support, how do you choose? Do I go with Hillary because she and I are both women, or do I go for Obama because I believe everyone should be color blind?
I was telling my new best friend, Christy, that I wonder if I am feeling what the first wave feminists felt when they had to decide to split from the Civil Rights movement.
At any rate I am ready to do my civic duty tomorrow.
The only thing I hate about voting is that someone has to lose.

Call Forwarding

I just posted a whole slew of pictures to my flickr page.

For whatever reason I just can't find time to blog lately, so please refer to that as a brief glimpse of what is going on around here.

Eleanor turning 2 has been quite the affair, and we are trying to clean out our basement. I have also been working more, which throws off my mojo in a way.

I still have pictures from today (we had a non birthday party at my father in law's house- nothing like swimming in January...) but I can't find my camera at this exact moment so those will have to wait. Hopefully not for 2 more weeks, but we'll see.....

1/23

Today is Eleanor's second birthday.
It feels like we went from this:

To this:

All too quickly.
The last two years with her have been so fun and so amazing, and she really is such a neat kid.
Every time I gush about her- about how funny she is, and how beautiful she is, and how in awe I am of her- I feel a little guilty. It is not that I love Abby less, or that she is less any of those things, but she was given all the love, attention, and adoration for 3 years without having to share it the way Eleanor does.
Whatever, both my kids know I adore them.
Especially the birthday girl.
I had to work today, so she was with Grammy all morning, which is a good way for her to spend a birthday. What newly 2 year old wouldn't want to spend the morning running around with little to no supervision? I got home early this afternoon, and we played and opened a present from Grampy (why must everyone shop at Gymboree?). The girls and I had a lovely dinner on corn dogs and broccoli (at the request of the birthday girl), and they were sweet enough to wait for Tim to get home to do cake and candles. My mother in law came over also to enjoy the strawberry cake Nora picked out and decorated.....(for some reason I can't upload the picture of her with her fingers in the cake).
She went to bed tonight wearing her new bathing suit and Crocs from Grandma, and is now sleeping off her sugar high.
2 years ago I met the coolest chick. Sometimes she wakes up in the middle of the night- just to say hi- and I am struck by how beautiful she is. Sometimes she becomes so stubborn and adamant about the door being closed that she bites her sister. Sometimes she gets the sniffles and I can't sleep for a week until I know she isn't going to spend the night coughing. Sometimes I can't believe how much I love her.

Emergency Contact

I don't know if I have mentioned my single mom friend who I went to high school with ever. I think I start to blog about her but can't articulate how unpleasant it is to be around her children sometimes then I feel like and asshole for being so intolerant of her children (well, child actually- the younger one doesn't bother me so much).
So anyway, this chick had a kid after high school, the dad left her she met some new guy married him had another baby (the same day Abby was born) and then got separated from him for a variety of reasons (the fact that he is kind of a scum bag being the first and foremost reason). In high school she and I were pretty good friends and then we had one of those teen drama falling outs (over what, I can't even remember), but graduated on good terms. I didn't talk to her for years but met up with her this past summer at this min reunion we had (I can't remember if I have told you all this- if it is a rerun, I am sorry).
So I haven't talked to her in a while because we went to her youngest' birthday party and it was kind of traumatic for me. It goes deeper than me disagreeing with how she parents (I just don't think that Cheetos are a breakfast food and that constantly smoking around your kids is the best idea) I was kind of disturbed by everything that went on there. From her estranged husband who was smoking pot in the basement during the pinata to the family arguments that got carried out through the kids it was all really uncomfortable.
So I have kind of limited our contact just because it makes me crazy and it is hard to keep my mouth shut about it all. Until last night, when my friend called me at 10pm in tears. She asked me if I could pick her youngest up from day care today because she is without a car (there is a repossession issue and a suspended licensee involved here). She then asked me if I could be an emergency contact for the day care because she has had to leave work at least twice a week since the new year because her kid has had some sort of super freak out at day care and they can't deal with it.
What does one say to this?
She then told me that she is getting her kid evaluated by all these specialists because they think she has some overstimulation disorder (which is funny because I feel totally overstimulated when I am with them- the constant dialogue of the older one the mom yelling, the TVs on, the game Boys, stereo, etc.). My friend is a mess over this and is has missed all this work because she has to take her to doctors and meetings and pick her up at day care when they can't deal with her anymore.
I tried to offer a sympathetic ear, but I had nothing to say. Her kid is a mess, and needs some help, get her the help, right?
Then she asked me if I would be an emergency contact when the kid needed to be picked up from day care early.
What does one say to this?
So I told her I would pick her up today, but my schedule was such that I have no predictable day in which I could factor her kid in. I told her if there was a complete emergency where blood adn ambulances were involved she could call me, but other than that she had to make other arrangements.
Does this make me a bad person?

Since my sister won't do it....

.....I am going to have to blog about he cuteness that is my niece.

So when we were there at Thanksgiving Amanda and I were explaining to Clementine that we were sisters. As we were telling her "Auntie is my sister" and "your mama is my sister" she grew despondent and then agitated. She then started crying because "that's my mama" and we soon figured out that it insights rage in her when we would explain that we were sisters.
So fast forward to last week when Clementine was being a pistol and was telling Amanda that she couldn't talk to her. When Amanda said, "I am your mama and I will talk to you" Clementine busted out with "You're not my mama! You're Auntie's sister!"

This kid is full of great one liners. She has also picked up some foul language on the way and I would be lying if I said it wasn't funny that she uses the 'f' word often. At least it was funny until I realized that Nora says "Shit!" every time she drops something.

Out of the mouths of babes......

The Sunday Night News

It started with Nora on Wednesday night. We had dinner with my mom, and a fairly uneventful evening which ended with her throwing up at midnight and continuing to do so until about 3 am. The next day she was able to kind of rally for a trip to Ikea despite some ickys, but we still laid kind of low. Friday morning I though we were in the clear. We went to get Abby's haircut (just like mine) but dashed home after a diaper mishap (you don't want to know). After lunch Abby told me her tummy hurt and I knew what was coming for me.
Poor little thing spent the afternoon in rough shape while I washed hands, sheet, towels, the bathroom, tushies, faces, clothes- you name it. We had plans to go out that night, and against my better judgement I tried to see them through. We weren't even to the restaurant when the sitter called to tell us that Abby was throwing up again (I told Tim not to give her anything other than sips of water, but I don't know what i am talking about). We stayed in and watched Transformers and I waited.
I waited to get hit by this bug crawling through our house. After getting up 4 times between the two of them needing diapers water or hugs, it was my turn. At one point I thought I was going to die, but morning came and I made it.
I started to feel better throughout the day, and was determined to pull it together in order to go out Saturday night (an afternoon of America's Next Top Model helped). Tim had the girls most of the day and I would be lying if I said I knew what he did with them other than make a mess and yell a whole bunch (Tim has this very distinct way of dealing with anything- his immediate reaction is anger of any sort, and even if it is not that he is really angry he sounds angry which makes one think he is angry. There is also a lot of swearing.). My mom took them in the afternoon so that we could celebrate our anniversary.
We actually had an awesome time. We went and got massages then met Chach and Alpana for dinner at the Mafia Hangout. I was nervous how my stomach would handle everything, but after one bite of roasted duck ragu, I was back on my game (although I could have done without the chicken liver pate- too smoky flavored). I ate seriously the most amazing sea bass, and a filet that was divine. The best part was how fun it is to be with Charles and Alpana. Sometimes it is really nice to go out with people and not have to talk about your kids all night because it is all you have in common. I love going out with them because I feel like a real adult, and we always have a great time with them. Don't get me wrong, I like swilling beer with Bridezilla and her hubby's death metal band, and I like competitive parenting at cocktail parties and the such with out "parent" friends, but sometimes it is just nice to go out and not come home hammered or neurotic.
After getting to sleep in this morning, my mom called to ask me if Nora was ok. Now, since i hadn't been with her for 18 hours I really had no answer for her. Apparently she had diaper rash and was just laying around all morning. Shortly after that conversation Tim decided it was his turn to get sick. By far he has had it the easiest, but of course has been the most dramatic. Since Abby and I were feeling better we took down the tree and de-decked our halls, all while trying to get organized for the new year and doing seventeen gazillion loads of laundry.
I have washed my hands no less than 117 times today and done about 16 loads of laundry in the past 2 days. I think we are all on the mend, except little Nora who we have determined to be the sickly one. WHile she has handled all this well, I am worried about her guts and her tush. She really has lost her sparkle this time around but I don't think she is ready for the pediatrician quite yet after all the nonsense they had her taking around Christmas (why does that seem like a month ago?). Oh, well, we'll see what this week brings... Back to school tomorrow, and I am determined to get my basement put back together after the holiday explosion, not to mention the plumbing thing (did I tell you about this?). If only I could finish this laundry...

I do

Today is Tim and my 6th wedding anniversary.
I have the flu.
Ae you jealous?

A Multiple Choice Quiz

Which would you rather deal with: an almost 2 year old who throws up about every 15 minutes in the middle of the night, then once sleeping suffers explosive diarrhea, or a husband who has purchased Guitar Hero for his Playstation.

Yeah, I would pick "neither" also.

Today has been the longest day of my life.

I need winter break to be over so that I can get back into a groove, and I need that groove to not come from Guitar Hero.

I need to go lie down.