I knew they were around here somewhere. I'm starting to talk to friends again. It's very nice. I love going to Starbucks in the Market and seeing Sam. I need to go and visit her when we're both not working. Friday night I got driven home by Zaid. I went to Chilli's with the girls. Shannen, Donna, Melissa, and I hung out, caught up, and had fun. Zaid took Al back to Chili's (there's one out by the mall sorta where the movie theater where we saw the 15th anniversary edition of Rocky Horror used to be). They'll be picking up the car that I couldn't drive home - 2 margaritas and I was not fit to drive. Very nice end to a barfy day (no, literally, Rowan was barfing Thursday night and a little on Friday too. Therin took a nap so I figure he's fighting off this bug too.)
Al & I were supposed to go our and celebrate our anniversary Friday night but with Rowan sick I didn't want to take the kids over to my Mom & Dad's house. Mom agreed. I called and talked to Jenny on the phone tonight. Gary writes my MySpace (I never look at my myspace) and opened up a can of worms that got buried months ago. Whatever, at least he's writing. I went out to Chevy's with Jim just after my birthday for the first time in ages. This month I've made a big effort to reach out to my friends. It has been very hard. Diabetes is routine, I don't have to think about it a whole lot, just do it, unless Brenna's numbers are all wonky and I have to back up and figure it out all over again.
It's hard to do. Reach out. I don't know why. While I'm feeling better I'm snatching the opportunity before it slips away again. It's a lot easier to lurk, read posts, and when I feel up to it after I've thought about it and come up with something to say then type it than deal with ambiguous conversations that could go anywhere, I guess. Kinda makes me feel a little cowerdly.
After I knew my blog was being read, it became harder to post. I started it for me as a place to vent -- and then I had readers. I thought I had to come up with something more interesting than my whining. I have a lot of draft posts that have never made it live because I felt they were too whiny or weird to post. I love getting comments. It is so much fun to have a dialogue with other people who are reading about me and my family because they care.
I try and strike a balance with positive and negative. I still lurk a lot. Thanks for letting me lurk. Without my online friends I don't know if i would have gotten to this point again.
So, I want to thank my friends. My "here and now" friends for being patient with my absence and allowing me to pick up where I left off. My "virtual" friends for letting me lurk and gain my confidence back. Mom, my friend who listens to me no matter what.
And Al, my partner, my best friend, my husband. The man who loves me inspite of all my insanities. He thinks I'm perfect even when I know damn well I am far from it. He takes my shit and doesn't stoop to throwing it back at me -- even when I deserve it. He kicks me out of the house when I won't take a break on my own and makes sure friends are there with me. And he makes it possible, on a day like today, for me to blog.
Thank you, everybody.
Friday, June 29, 2007
New Post?
I had all these cool ideas for new posts. I sat down at the computer, like, 2 seconds later just to put the ideas down in an "idea" post and just save it to drafts. Now, of course, they're all gone. Where's the rum? I know I didn't get any.
Sigh.
Sigh.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
3
Every day you get bigger. You already have strong opinions of your own. Smiles like sunshine make my day bright. I love how you love snails and pounce on your brothers (even if I have to hold back my snickers & give you a time out). Gotta, go, go, go you are always on the move -- you'd rather be outside than sitting and watching T.V. You are a beautiful little girl and I look forward to watching you grow into the wonderful young woman you'll become.
I love you Buttercup.
Happy birthday.
I love you Buttercup.
Happy birthday.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Adventures in Potty Training
****WARNING*****
Too much information - unless you've been privy to the prossess of potty "training" -- or maybe even if you have.
I'm just writing this for posterity. And so I can google this when she's 16.
Nakie girl comes tearing into the living room.
"Mommy, mommy! I pooped in the potty! Come see."
She grabs my hand and we both run down the hall to the bathroom.
Sometimes poop means pee - but there it was just like she said.
"Mommy, one is floating one is sinking."
"Wow! That's amazing"
We stand there admiring her work of art and I notice that the view is unobstructed.
"Hey, I have a great idea! Lets get you some toilet paper"
The previous roll had gone swimming during the last potty break.
When I had finished wiping her bottom and tossed the paper in I inadvertantly reached out to complete the next step.
***flush****
"Mommy, I'm so mad at you!"
She stomps out hands on hips.
Ah, I'm so used to walking into bathrooms and having to flush all manner of things (both here and at work) I do it automatically. That she might want to admire it a little longer and flush it herself didn't even cross my mind. I've been through this twice you'd think I'd remember that one.
Too much information - unless you've been privy to the prossess of potty "training" -- or maybe even if you have.
I'm just writing this for posterity. And so I can google this when she's 16.
Nakie girl comes tearing into the living room.
"Mommy, mommy! I pooped in the potty! Come see."
She grabs my hand and we both run down the hall to the bathroom.
Sometimes poop means pee - but there it was just like she said.
"Mommy, one is floating one is sinking."
"Wow! That's amazing"
We stand there admiring her work of art and I notice that the view is unobstructed.
"Hey, I have a great idea! Lets get you some toilet paper"
The previous roll had gone swimming during the last potty break.
When I had finished wiping her bottom and tossed the paper in I inadvertantly reached out to complete the next step.
***flush****
"Mommy, I'm so mad at you!"
She stomps out hands on hips.
Ah, I'm so used to walking into bathrooms and having to flush all manner of things (both here and at work) I do it automatically. That she might want to admire it a little longer and flush it herself didn't even cross my mind. I've been through this twice you'd think I'd remember that one.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Those were the good old days . . .
I've been reading DDQ & QoD's posts and reminising. DDQ and I go waaaaaaaayyyyyyyy back. I love all of her stories especially of her bizarre relatives. I want to put one of our stories out on the web but I can't figure out which one to write about. This isn't as well written as QoD or as funny as DDQ but here goes. . .
I'd love to write about our time in Drama Class down at the JC especially because the title of this post would fit perfectly-- I freaked out our teacher by crossdressing and singing "Wierd Al" Yankovich songs (not during the same performance though). Fun as that was I'll take you on a little ride on back to the 1999 County Fair.
This took place in a little town that's home to Earthworm Jim (no, really the cartoon character hails from this place). Turkey Tech isn't too far away and we'd been on an adventure to secure us some Hewie Lewis and the News tickets. It's the armpit of the Central Valley of California during the hottest part of the summer. August. I am a cool 112 degrees because I'm a week away from having my first born. Anne & I got to the fair a little early so that we could get some good seats -- even though we bought tickets it's an elbow your way to the best seat kind of venue. Well, when we got there the monster trucks weren't done kicking up the dirt in the arena area so we thought we'd take a walk around the fair. Anne was afraid I'd go into labor at any minute (frankly I was a little nervous too - at that point in my life all I'd had to compare labor to was cramps and those puppies always sneak up on me).
After a while we saw a vision of air conditioned lovelieness and wrote our names down on the ledger.
It was . . .
Budwiser Brewmaster Bus
Ahhhhh, heaven! Slightly padded foldie chairs and a 10 degree difference from the external temperature. Woo hoo! Now was only 102 degrees!
We sat down and Anne made herself comfortable while I did my best to NOT do my impression of a beached whale. People filed in around us and kept turning to stare. I really was HUGE. Fortunately it was before the digital age of cameras. Anne, darlin', you're going to have to write your version of this story 'cause my memory is a little fuzzy. Did you actually say "What! Haven't you ever seen a pregnant woman drink a beer?" I know we kept laughing and making jokes just to watch these people try and put their eyes back in their head.
O.K. you know when you "taste test" something they usually only give you such a tiny amount that you really do need to go back when that Costco lady isn't looking to grab 3 more just so you know what it really tastes like? That's what I figured was going to happen in the Beer Bus. They brought us samples of 3 beers in dixie cups smaller than the kind I had to pee in every week. I'm sure everyone was thinking pints when they signed up but what they got were thimbles.
The Budwiser Guy did a lot of talking about how the beer was brewed and how it was sacreligious to keep your beer in the garage, unless you have a fridge in there, of course. High temperatures kill the taste, you know. We got 3 more teensie Tinkerbell draughts sipped them and listened to more talking. Not even enough alcohol in all six cups combined to kill a braincell. After 30 or 45 minutes we each got a little card proclaiming us Brewmasters. So now I can say "I was a pregnant Brewmaster." The only thing left to do was see the guy who made it "Hip to Be Square". I'm such a rebel.
I'd love to write about our time in Drama Class down at the JC especially because the title of this post would fit perfectly-- I freaked out our teacher by crossdressing and singing "Wierd Al" Yankovich songs (not during the same performance though). Fun as that was I'll take you on a little ride on back to the 1999 County Fair.
This took place in a little town that's home to Earthworm Jim (no, really the cartoon character hails from this place). Turkey Tech isn't too far away and we'd been on an adventure to secure us some Hewie Lewis and the News tickets. It's the armpit of the Central Valley of California during the hottest part of the summer. August. I am a cool 112 degrees because I'm a week away from having my first born. Anne & I got to the fair a little early so that we could get some good seats -- even though we bought tickets it's an elbow your way to the best seat kind of venue. Well, when we got there the monster trucks weren't done kicking up the dirt in the arena area so we thought we'd take a walk around the fair. Anne was afraid I'd go into labor at any minute (frankly I was a little nervous too - at that point in my life all I'd had to compare labor to was cramps and those puppies always sneak up on me).
After a while we saw a vision of air conditioned lovelieness and wrote our names down on the ledger.
It was . . .
Budwiser Brewmaster Bus
Ahhhhh, heaven! Slightly padded foldie chairs and a 10 degree difference from the external temperature. Woo hoo! Now was only 102 degrees!
We sat down and Anne made herself comfortable while I did my best to NOT do my impression of a beached whale. People filed in around us and kept turning to stare. I really was HUGE. Fortunately it was before the digital age of cameras. Anne, darlin', you're going to have to write your version of this story 'cause my memory is a little fuzzy. Did you actually say "What! Haven't you ever seen a pregnant woman drink a beer?" I know we kept laughing and making jokes just to watch these people try and put their eyes back in their head.
O.K. you know when you "taste test" something they usually only give you such a tiny amount that you really do need to go back when that Costco lady isn't looking to grab 3 more just so you know what it really tastes like? That's what I figured was going to happen in the Beer Bus. They brought us samples of 3 beers in dixie cups smaller than the kind I had to pee in every week. I'm sure everyone was thinking pints when they signed up but what they got were thimbles.
The Budwiser Guy did a lot of talking about how the beer was brewed and how it was sacreligious to keep your beer in the garage, unless you have a fridge in there, of course. High temperatures kill the taste, you know. We got 3 more teensie Tinkerbell draughts sipped them and listened to more talking. Not even enough alcohol in all six cups combined to kill a braincell. After 30 or 45 minutes we each got a little card proclaiming us Brewmasters. So now I can say "I was a pregnant Brewmaster." The only thing left to do was see the guy who made it "Hip to Be Square". I'm such a rebel.
Friday, June 08, 2007
Skoolz Out!
Well, mostly anyway. Therin's last day of school was yesterday and Rowan's last day is the 18th (officially). Rowan graduates preschool on June 11th in the evening. They have little cap & gown outfits for the kids. I think he'll have a good time "walking the stage". They're getting so big so fast! Can you believe it?
Saturday, June 02, 2007
An ear infection
Barely. She didn't throw ketones with the last ear infection. Why now? Anyhow, back to the beginning of the story. I got home from work and Mom told us that Brenna felt hot during her nap. Her underarm temperature was 102 farenheit. So, she gave Bren some Tylenol. I took her numbers;
BG 296 Blood Ketones 1.4
O.K. so ketones show up faster in the blood than urine and nobody knew what to do with blood ketone info last time.
"Brenna, lets go sit on the potty" woo hoo! she actually peed on the stick!
Within seconds it turns a dark burgandy. Large ketones, second darkest color on the bottle. But her bg number isn't too terribly bad (for her) and the blood ketone number is actually lower than the urine ketones suggest but Al is nervous. So while I wrangle the girl back into her clothes. . .
Al called nurse J and described what was going on. She told us that we should take her to urgent care because her fever had been going on for 3 days. She said that even though she was acting just fine that we should take her to urgent care because things can turn scary quickly for little ones. So I called the appointment line to tell them that we were going to urgent care. They told us to wait by the phone and they'd call us back. Brenna & I headed out with a cell phone and Al waited at home for the call. We were close to the Urgent Care center when he called to say that we needed to head to Emanual Medical Center emergency or north to Manteca's emergency room (side note: I live less than 2 minutes WALKING distance from a hospital but Kaiser doesn't deal with either of the hospitals that are in my town -- grr). We get to the emergency room and I get her checked in then she's the next one called. A nurse takes her vitals, weight, height, listens to her heart, etc. hands us a paper bag with a pee cup inside. We head to the potty to get a sample. She does it again! It is soo rare for this girl to pee on command. We took it back to the nurse and waited. And waited. And waited. I took her numbers again.
BG 186, Blood ketones 0.1
Brenna slides out of my lap and is dancing around and playing hopscotch across the tiles while other folks are waiting to be seen. Can't we go home now? Her numbers are good. As long as we're here we might as well find out about her mystery fever.
A vampire (professional blood taker, I can't spell phle. . . and I don't want to look it up on google -- I get sidetracked) comes out. I can tell he's a vampire not because of his pasty white complexion and cape but because he carries a tackle box full of tubes and sharp pointy things in sterile plastic packages. He calls about 5 names and as we file in we're set up in beds with curtains mere feet apart. Brenna is in the bed closest to the door. Lucky her, first blood. There isn't anothe nurse available to help hold Brenna's arm so the blood tech directs me to lay on the bed with her and wrap my legs around hers. I will need to hold her arm still while this is done. So I wrap my self around her as tightly - yet gently- as I possibly can. I tuck her head under my chin, her 'free' arm under my body and grab hold of her hand and arm. I'm told to keep her arm from twisting. She's very good at twisting. I worry somewhere in the back of my mind about bruises and file it away for later. I ask about a butterfly needle and he says that he's using a pediatric needle but it's going to take a while. I watch as he inserts the needle into her arm and tighten my grip as she begins to thrash and scream. It feels like child abuse. I blink slowly twice to give myself a break from watching the needle then go back to my vigil. If she can feel it -- I can watch it. Have I told you how much watching fake needles on TV make me want to puke? I don't watch my own arm get poked. After a long moment the vials are filled and before I know it he has tape on her arm. I hate tape. They don't use that stretchy stuff that doesn't stick to your skin anymore because it has latex in it. That sucks. The tape is like supergluing a cottonball to her arm. And we're walking to the waiting room again as I contemplate tomorrow when I try and remove that thing. I know what the blood and urine is going to show them. I just took it myself without pinning her to a table. I just hope it shows what's been cranking her fever up.
I watch my beautiful, happy girl dance some more. I count while she hops. We sing songs and I teach her the "I'm a little teapot" song again. Then I show her how to be a sugarbowl. If I were being politically correct I should have told her we were Splenda bowls - but I'm not.
A few more hours pass and a group of us are called into the same bed area as before only Brenna gets the one furthest from the door. First one seen by the doctor, lucky us. A very tired very patient (a doctor that was trying with all his might not to be irritated) gives me the lowdown. No ketones, 186 (I guess her meter is working well), temp is normal (If I could read minds I bet he was thinking "so why the hell are you here!!!!")
"Do you know what this means"
"Yes, everything is good. We get to go home. But what's been causing her fever."
"Her temp is normal"
"That's because I gave her Tylenol"
"Her temp is normal, 97.9"
"But she had a 102 fever underarm temp and we gave her Tylenol. She's had a fever for 3 days."
"A fever is the body's natural defense against infection"
"So it's an infection? What kind? What did her blood show?"
"It's not bacterial, it must be viral."
"Her blood showed nothing?"
"Well, let me check her ears."
Brenna screams . . .he's 2 feet away.
"Oh, she has an ear infection."
He checks the other side "this one's not as bad as the other. Does she respond well to amoxicillin?"
"We aggressively treated the last one so I guess she does well enough"
"O.K. I'll write you a prescription and fill out your discharge papers."
Brenna was in her own bed by 1:30 a.m. I was asleep by 1:31 a.m. if not sooner.
Mystery fever solved. . . or was it?
Stay tuned for the next Adventure of Captain Ketone and the Mystery Fever part 3.
BG 296 Blood Ketones 1.4
O.K. so ketones show up faster in the blood than urine and nobody knew what to do with blood ketone info last time.
"Brenna, lets go sit on the potty" woo hoo! she actually peed on the stick!
Within seconds it turns a dark burgandy. Large ketones, second darkest color on the bottle. But her bg number isn't too terribly bad (for her) and the blood ketone number is actually lower than the urine ketones suggest but Al is nervous. So while I wrangle the girl back into her clothes. . .
Al called nurse J and described what was going on. She told us that we should take her to urgent care because her fever had been going on for 3 days. She said that even though she was acting just fine that we should take her to urgent care because things can turn scary quickly for little ones. So I called the appointment line to tell them that we were going to urgent care. They told us to wait by the phone and they'd call us back. Brenna & I headed out with a cell phone and Al waited at home for the call. We were close to the Urgent Care center when he called to say that we needed to head to Emanual Medical Center emergency or north to Manteca's emergency room (side note: I live less than 2 minutes WALKING distance from a hospital but Kaiser doesn't deal with either of the hospitals that are in my town -- grr). We get to the emergency room and I get her checked in then she's the next one called. A nurse takes her vitals, weight, height, listens to her heart, etc. hands us a paper bag with a pee cup inside. We head to the potty to get a sample. She does it again! It is soo rare for this girl to pee on command. We took it back to the nurse and waited. And waited. And waited. I took her numbers again.
BG 186, Blood ketones 0.1
Brenna slides out of my lap and is dancing around and playing hopscotch across the tiles while other folks are waiting to be seen. Can't we go home now? Her numbers are good. As long as we're here we might as well find out about her mystery fever.
A vampire (professional blood taker, I can't spell phle. . . and I don't want to look it up on google -- I get sidetracked) comes out. I can tell he's a vampire not because of his pasty white complexion and cape but because he carries a tackle box full of tubes and sharp pointy things in sterile plastic packages. He calls about 5 names and as we file in we're set up in beds with curtains mere feet apart. Brenna is in the bed closest to the door. Lucky her, first blood. There isn't anothe nurse available to help hold Brenna's arm so the blood tech directs me to lay on the bed with her and wrap my legs around hers. I will need to hold her arm still while this is done. So I wrap my self around her as tightly - yet gently- as I possibly can. I tuck her head under my chin, her 'free' arm under my body and grab hold of her hand and arm. I'm told to keep her arm from twisting. She's very good at twisting. I worry somewhere in the back of my mind about bruises and file it away for later. I ask about a butterfly needle and he says that he's using a pediatric needle but it's going to take a while. I watch as he inserts the needle into her arm and tighten my grip as she begins to thrash and scream. It feels like child abuse. I blink slowly twice to give myself a break from watching the needle then go back to my vigil. If she can feel it -- I can watch it. Have I told you how much watching fake needles on TV make me want to puke? I don't watch my own arm get poked. After a long moment the vials are filled and before I know it he has tape on her arm. I hate tape. They don't use that stretchy stuff that doesn't stick to your skin anymore because it has latex in it. That sucks. The tape is like supergluing a cottonball to her arm. And we're walking to the waiting room again as I contemplate tomorrow when I try and remove that thing. I know what the blood and urine is going to show them. I just took it myself without pinning her to a table. I just hope it shows what's been cranking her fever up.
I watch my beautiful, happy girl dance some more. I count while she hops. We sing songs and I teach her the "I'm a little teapot" song again. Then I show her how to be a sugarbowl. If I were being politically correct I should have told her we were Splenda bowls - but I'm not.
A few more hours pass and a group of us are called into the same bed area as before only Brenna gets the one furthest from the door. First one seen by the doctor, lucky us. A very tired very patient (a doctor that was trying with all his might not to be irritated) gives me the lowdown. No ketones, 186 (I guess her meter is working well), temp is normal (If I could read minds I bet he was thinking "so why the hell are you here!!!!")
"Do you know what this means"
"Yes, everything is good. We get to go home. But what's been causing her fever."
"Her temp is normal"
"That's because I gave her Tylenol"
"Her temp is normal, 97.9"
"But she had a 102 fever underarm temp and we gave her Tylenol. She's had a fever for 3 days."
"A fever is the body's natural defense against infection"
"So it's an infection? What kind? What did her blood show?"
"It's not bacterial, it must be viral."
"Her blood showed nothing?"
"Well, let me check her ears."
Brenna screams . . .he's 2 feet away.
"Oh, she has an ear infection."
He checks the other side "this one's not as bad as the other. Does she respond well to amoxicillin?"
"We aggressively treated the last one so I guess she does well enough"
"O.K. I'll write you a prescription and fill out your discharge papers."
Brenna was in her own bed by 1:30 a.m. I was asleep by 1:31 a.m. if not sooner.
Mystery fever solved. . . or was it?
Stay tuned for the next Adventure of Captain Ketone and the Mystery Fever part 3.
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