Runaway

I've spent most of this week with my phone and computer turned off, occasionally logging into FB, but nothing much else.

I've been blindsided by one too many pregnancy announcements this week. Two moms at the day care with children J's age, the neighbor around the corner with a daughter J's age, a few FB announcements. I felt like I couldn't even watch HGTV yesterday without some young homebuyer saying, "Oopsy- it just happened! Glad I bought that house with an extra bedroom!"

The new company that is taking us over is less family-friendly, my new manager is male, and I'm very worried about getting the flexibility to do treatments. It's pissing me off that, in trying to build our family, our privacy is violated by bringing a third party into the mix, and it's not something I can keep secret from my employer either, as the frequent appointments require permission.

I know. Woe is I. I'm lucky to have a child at all.

Hopefully next week I'll be able to pull myself out of my cave and return to your regularly scheduled blogging.

Time For Some Help

Attempt number seven was not so lucky after all. I thought the excruciating pain of Ms Righty meant she was working, but this is another short 24-day cycle with barely a viable luteal phase. I felt that old, familiar sadness roll in. Yes, I have been entertaining hopes that something will have righted itself. These new short cycles and constant pain in the last half of the cycle are all new, and I am finding myself wondering what is wrong with me now. Endo? Have I finally tipped over to PCOS territory?

I called Dr A's office this morning and made an appt for Dec 2nd. Time to get back on the horse.

Perfect Moment Monday: The Luck Child

Last night, we were pooped from running around all weekend ( Date night Friday; shopping, chores, Halloween, and Grandma time for J on Saturday; overtime for me Sunday, visit from my Dad, diaper laundry and cooking.) We decided to hook up the laptop to out TV to watch some instant view movies from Netflix.

J has been all about Mommy lately. Wherever I go, he must go. Whatever I eat, he must beg for bites. Wherever I sit, he must sit. I set up camp in the La-Z-Boy, and he dragged his blankie and his sippy of milk into my lap. He went through 4 cups of milk and water last night, and god knows how many crackers. Every time he emptied his cup he would hold it out, shake it, and yell, "Daddy! Milk!"

Two hours of snuggling in the chair while watching an old Jim Henson's Storyteller about "The Luck Child" and other fables was perfect indeed.




Because of the time change, J woke up at 6:30 AM today, an hour earlier than usual.

I brought him into bed, hoping he would go back to sleep for a while. No such luck.

He rolled over, tapped Mr S on the head, and said, "Daddy."

He rolled over, felt my face, and said, "Who is it?" He felt my nose, and said, "Nose- Mommy." Yes, kid, that is my big schnoozle.

He climbed over me and tried to pull his blankie with him. It wouldn't come. "Blankie stuck, " he said. "Help."

I helped him unstick it, he said, "tank you", and he ran to the bathroom door and opened it, dragging his blankie with him. He climbed into our big garden tub, that is used to store Mr S's underwater hockey gear nowadays. He runs back in holding a sponge Mr S keeps inside his glove to help cushion any blows from the lead pucks. "What this?", J asks. "A sponge." "Punge, " he says. "Mine."

He runs back into the bathroom, grabs a hockey stick, and starts pounding the shower door with it.

We decide to get up. But not before I spent a moment remembering to be grateful for my own "luck child". Hitting the lucky 3% has been better than winning the lottery, lack of sleep included.

Who else is capturing Pefect Moments? Click over to Lori's and see!

Ain't It Perty?

See? I told you there was a gorgeous Amish-made table underneath all that clutter. I got it clean just in time for our Girls Gathering on Friday. With a little help from Sister Noonie.


First, I wanted to say a big thank you to Martha, for this award! Sweet! I'm supposed to share 7 things about me that won't have you prostrate on the floor, wiping the drool from your bored chin.

1. When I was in grade school, I wanted to be a nun. I read Catholic Digest and circled the religious orders in the ads that I thought I would want to join when I turned 18.

2. I have an anthropology/archaeology degree that is about as useful as a warm pitcher of spit.

3. My best friend, The Schnee, and I have been known to pull off some Lucy and Ethel capers in our day. Ask me about the time she broke up with her boyfriend and we broke into his house to steal back incriminating photos and articles of clothing- and his roommate walked in on us. And we still were able to get away with it.

4. Or ask us about the time when, at age 20, the Schnee's creepy old boss at her college co-op job invited us to a bar for drinks. With his creepy old friend. Who put his creepy old hand on my leg and tried to get us to go back to his house to sit in his hot tub. At least until I reminded him he better get his f***ing hand off my f***ing leg before I f***ing break his f***ing nose.

5. I am completely unafraid of poop. I've had it shot up my bare arm like a water cannon before and didn't even gag.

6. Did I mention I have a tendency to recite revolting and horrific war stories of my times as a caseworker and nurse during meals? Most of them involve insects or bodily fluids.

7. I thought it would be fun, at age 19, to hire a stripper dressed as Santa Claus for a party with the girls. Some dude turned up at my door 30 minutes late, dressed in a flannel shirt, jeans, and work boots, looking and smelling like he'd been at the job site all day hauling cement. And there began a very uncomfortable half hour of this dude stripping to his faded bikini briefs and doing the "white guy dance" to the Cajun Music CD I had, in between grinding his incredibly small package in my friends faces. He was fascinated with my friend JD, who hid behind her camera, and kept asking her if she "wanted to see it." Her response was, "Um, not really."

The Schnee and I ended up developing the film months later, only to find that JD had unknowingly snapped a picture of his actual schlong. The nasty dude must have flashed it - and she swears she had her eyes closed and didn't see it. She was studying abroad in Spain by the time we developed the pics, and we thought it would be hilarious to send her the winkie picture. She never got it. Somewhere in Spain there is a photograph of a very small, very ugly penis.

Not Twiddling My Thumbs

Having 200 posts in my Google Reader means I have a lot on my plate.

* I'm trying to get my grocery budget down and failing. Mr S's soy milk and the Boy's dairy allergy make that hard. J's allergy testing came back negative for everything, but I don't believe it. We tried a dairy test yesterday- and failed. Wheezing and major clear nasal drainage. I call bullshit on that test.

I've been checking all the "deal" websites that my friend sent me, clipping coupons and using them during sales to try and get as many near-free things I can.

* Saturday, I spent 3 hours shopping at multiple stores, then quickly got ready for an evening wedding. One of the girls who Mr S used to coach underwater hockey in high school, and who is all grown up and in nursing school now, babysat J for 6 hours. He had fun, and we found another reliable babysitter. They're making a lot more than the $2/hr I made in the eighties!

* I am planning a Girls Dinner for this Friday, which means making a Lasagna and putting out an almost-free loaf of garlic bread. I am making hot cider in the slow cooker as well. Of course, this means the house has to be clean and the table-from-hell has to be clear. I have made some headway, and will post a "transformation" for this week's Show and Tell.

* Saturday night, Mr S and I went to a friend's wedding, which was lovely and elegant. The food was yummy, and conversation was good. A good night.

* Sundaymorning, I spent two hours planting dozens of tulip bulbs (a mix of blue and white tulips and irises, with blue day lilies in the front, and pink and white tulips in the back). My back is quite achy today. I was so pooped, I watched TV for most of the afternoon while J played. I got to catch up on Project Runway and Glee, and watch Food Network for a while. Then I made lentil burritos and the Neely's Apple Crisp recipe.

* I worked 2.5 hrs overtime last night. I logged on thinking I would work for an hour, but my new boss- the third in the past 10 months- was online and said we were unexpectedly behind. So I sucked up and worked extra. W, one of the pharmacists I work with, who was swamped yesterday, thanked me for helping him when I logged on this morning.

* Oh yeah, I gave Mr S and myself food poisoning last night. I used chicken broth to make the lentils that had been in the fridge for longer than I guessed. A couple hours after eating, I started feeling like hell and ran to the bathroom to chuck up all those lovely lentils. An hour later, Mr S followed suit. Glad I didn't give them to the little man.

* I have been researching what I will do "next". When I became a nurse, I expected to be able to do hospital nursing for quite some time. Now I know it will not be an option again, certainly not in the long-term. I know grad school will be at least 5 or so years away, and I have time to think, but I like to have a plan. I know I will need to be using my brain and not my brawn. I am seriously considering a Doctor of Pharmacy. I love my job, I love the pharmacology, I love the science, and I would love the options a Pharm.D. would give me. Oh yeah, and the money. We shall see. I still need to finish my book, finish my family, and have a few years of breathing room, right?

Forget Me Not

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day today. Every time I look at our son, I know how lucky we are.

To us, he is The Boy Who Lived.

24 hours with no movement. Every time I tell his birth story, someone says it. "That happened to my fill-in-the-blank, and the baby was dead."

He is very special to us, but I know, no more special than your babies are to you.

To those who read this, knowing your story is similar to mine, but with an unhappy ending, my heart goes out to you.

To those who are pregnant now- be watchful of those kicks. Being attuned to them may have saved my son's life. It may save yours.