Being back at work is totally kicking my arse. It takes a few weeks to get back up to speed, and each year I question if it is even possible. Owen is at a new school, and is in a before school program since his school starts an hour and a half after we need to be to work. Maddie and Ellie's daycare provider was out of town for the last three days, so we had to take them to our daycare lady's DIL (also does daycare). Ellie didn't care but Maddie was freaked out the first day. ( Owen informed us he didn't "feel good about leaving Ellie in a strange place, what if one of the kids hurt her. Now that they are done, he feels bad for thinking the DIL couldn't handle it. He was born with ingrained guilt. Sweet.)
Here is how our day looks
3:00-5:00 give Ellie her pacifier 1 to 739 times (her awesomeness seems to have gone to hell)
5:00 wake up/ get up if I am awake from pacifier duty
5:00 - 5:40 shower, makeup, hair find clothes that fit
5:40 -6:45 pack up milk for Ellie, feed and dress Ellie, pump, nag at Owen and Maddie to hurry
(Bud does lunches for us and Owen, gets kids breakfast, fixes a bagel for me, loads car and helps nag)
6:45 leave house
7:00 leave driveway (I don't know what happens, there is a time zone shift)
7:10 Drop off Ellie and Maddie
7:20 Drop off Owen
7:30 -3:10 Work ( pumping during lunch, eating with one hand)
3:20 Pick up Maddie and Ellie
3:35 pick up Owen
4:00-5:15 fix dinner, feed Ellie, throw in laundry, yell at kids for fighting (Bud helping w/everything but the feeding)
5:15 - 5:45 Dinner
5:45 - 7:30 Owen's homework, piano lessons (both me), Maddie's "homework and piano lessons"and cleaning kitchen (Bud), trying to eat feet(Ellie), throwing up on carpet(cats), baths, more laundry
7:30-8:00 Owen and Maddie jammies, teeth, lay out clothes for the next day, put away laundry, bedtime stories(usually Bud)
8:00-8:45 Ellie bath, jammies, thank God no teeth, feed
8:45-10:00 pick up house, make stuff ready for the next day, look at lesson plans for next day, pump (both of us for everything but pumping)
10:00 weep and go to bed.
The only thing saving my sanity at this point is that we have someone come every other week and clean. Thank goodness Bud actually does his fair share or I would never sleep. I am hoping I will get into a better groove soon I haven't been able to comment on other blogs the way I would like. I am still reading, during night time pumping.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Lippy
As I mentioned before my nickname was Lippy in my younger days. (now it's just bitch, whatever) I decided to tell the story of how I got the nickname.
A little back story. My best friend V is a year older than me, and when I was 17 she dated a guy who was a few years older, we will call him Not a Nice Guy, aw screw it let's call him Ass. She liked him but after a month or two she found out he was seeing someone else as well, we will call her Stupid. My friend was bummed and irritated, but they weren't serious, so what can ya do?
Fast forward a couple weeks and Stupid and her sister Skank were hired to work at the same place V and I worked. Fun times. Anywho, V was also friends with Ass's roommate, that's they met, so she would hang out with Roommate occasionally. Now Roommate was older and could buy booze, yay Roommate, way to be over 21.
So one evening we were hanging out at Roommates place drinking. Then Ass came home with Stupid, at first it was awkward, but V really didn't care. So a fun time was had by all.......until more drinking had been done. Suddenly, Ass started saying we needed to leave. I wanted to go anyway, so V started trying to round up the other girl who came with. I put my coat on and waited on the couch. As got more and more adamant about us getting out, I explained we were leaving pronto, but he just got more and more agitated about it being his house. I, reasonably, pointed out that it was also Roommates place too.
Ass went crazy, he stormed over to where I was sitting on the couch, picked me up at threw me across the room, into the wall. Now, my dad was an alcoholic asshole while I was growing up. Emotional abuse was not unheard of, but physical......no. I expected Ass to feel like, an Ass, so I turned to yell it him. But he was coming at me with his fists. So I turned and got the hell out. I had bruises across my chest which was impressive, since I had a winter coat on as cushioning.
V was totally freaking out, we considered calling the police, but since there was underage drinking on our parts we were afraid to. We went to a bar that had after drinking hours dancing, and we ran into Stupid's sister Skank and another sister. We immediately told Skank what happened and that we were concerned about Stupid, since obviously he was not right in the head. Also Stupid had a 2 year old, and that didn't seem like a good situation. Well, Skank informed us, that she was only getting one side and I maybe deserved it. Funny, at the time I was offended, but now I see that maybe the way they were raised was really messed up.
We ran into other friends of ours and naturally started talking about what happened. Skank got really pissed and told me I was spreading rumors, and better shut up. Well, it was on. I was sarcastic at a very early age, and was particularly drunk that night. So I started mouthing off to her. V was standing in between, trying to smooth things over, and just when everyone would calm down, I would peek over her shoulder and throw another witty barb at them. V would try not to laugh, and work to chill them out again. This went on for quite some time, at one point Skank reached over V and punched me, in mah face. Sadly, I was so drunk I had to ask people around me if I was punched. I really wanted to beat the hell out of Skank, but eventually V got me out of there.
A few months later, Ass went after Stupid, surprise. And then Stupid and Skank could see how right we were. We all became friendly, and Stupid and Skank started nicely calling me Lippy, as opposed to calling me Lippy little bitch which is what they had been calling me.
In retrospect, I would have told my dad what happened. He would have been pissed that I was drinking, but he would have gone and kicked the shit out of the Ass. I also learned that night that you can make fun of stupid people without them even realizing it half the time. And sometimes girls will put up with crap they really shouldn't and that is scary.
A little back story. My best friend V is a year older than me, and when I was 17 she dated a guy who was a few years older, we will call him Not a Nice Guy, aw screw it let's call him Ass. She liked him but after a month or two she found out he was seeing someone else as well, we will call her Stupid. My friend was bummed and irritated, but they weren't serious, so what can ya do?
Fast forward a couple weeks and Stupid and her sister Skank were hired to work at the same place V and I worked. Fun times. Anywho, V was also friends with Ass's roommate, that's they met, so she would hang out with Roommate occasionally. Now Roommate was older and could buy booze, yay Roommate, way to be over 21.
So one evening we were hanging out at Roommates place drinking. Then Ass came home with Stupid, at first it was awkward, but V really didn't care. So a fun time was had by all.......until more drinking had been done. Suddenly, Ass started saying we needed to leave. I wanted to go anyway, so V started trying to round up the other girl who came with. I put my coat on and waited on the couch. As got more and more adamant about us getting out, I explained we were leaving pronto, but he just got more and more agitated about it being his house. I, reasonably, pointed out that it was also Roommates place too.
Ass went crazy, he stormed over to where I was sitting on the couch, picked me up at threw me across the room, into the wall. Now, my dad was an alcoholic asshole while I was growing up. Emotional abuse was not unheard of, but physical......no. I expected Ass to feel like, an Ass, so I turned to yell it him. But he was coming at me with his fists. So I turned and got the hell out. I had bruises across my chest which was impressive, since I had a winter coat on as cushioning.
V was totally freaking out, we considered calling the police, but since there was underage drinking on our parts we were afraid to. We went to a bar that had after drinking hours dancing, and we ran into Stupid's sister Skank and another sister. We immediately told Skank what happened and that we were concerned about Stupid, since obviously he was not right in the head. Also Stupid had a 2 year old, and that didn't seem like a good situation. Well, Skank informed us, that she was only getting one side and I maybe deserved it. Funny, at the time I was offended, but now I see that maybe the way they were raised was really messed up.
We ran into other friends of ours and naturally started talking about what happened. Skank got really pissed and told me I was spreading rumors, and better shut up. Well, it was on. I was sarcastic at a very early age, and was particularly drunk that night. So I started mouthing off to her. V was standing in between, trying to smooth things over, and just when everyone would calm down, I would peek over her shoulder and throw another witty barb at them. V would try not to laugh, and work to chill them out again. This went on for quite some time, at one point Skank reached over V and punched me, in mah face. Sadly, I was so drunk I had to ask people around me if I was punched. I really wanted to beat the hell out of Skank, but eventually V got me out of there.
A few months later, Ass went after Stupid, surprise. And then Stupid and Skank could see how right we were. We all became friendly, and Stupid and Skank started nicely calling me Lippy, as opposed to calling me Lippy little bitch which is what they had been calling me.
In retrospect, I would have told my dad what happened. He would have been pissed that I was drinking, but he would have gone and kicked the shit out of the Ass. I also learned that night that you can make fun of stupid people without them even realizing it half the time. And sometimes girls will put up with crap they really shouldn't and that is scary.
Written out this story seems a lot less funny than I remember it.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Seven Years
7 years2 houses bought
1 house sold
3 cats
0 dogs
13 rooms painted
1 bachelor's degree
2 master's degrees
1 transmission
1 radiator
2 starters
4 car batteries
1 new minivan
3 positive pregnancy tests
2 obstetricians
2 high risk doctors
1 day in November
3 days in May
3 beautiful kids
200 sleepless nights
3 bouts of croup
4 barfing flus
80247 poopy diapers
1 first day of Kindergarten
a lot of joy
a little heartbreak
a bunch of fear
hours of laughter
more love than I ever imagined
Where will the next seven take us? Happy Anniversary babe!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Third Wheel
Ellie is an awesome baby. She has been sleeping pretty well at night, most nights she is in bed by 9:00 and usually doesn't wake up until 5:00. She has even been able to go to sleep on her own. At night I set her in her bassinet with her pacifier and she will usually fall asleep on her own. She will also doze off in this chair , which Bud and I call the magic chair.
So Ellie is pretty easy at this point. Not easy is Maddie. I have am kind at my wits end with her. When Owen was this age and Maddie was born it didn't seem to affect him at all. However Ellie seems to have ruined the Maddie I have known and loved. She has constant tantrums, nothing makes her happy and she is very mad at us, particularly me.
On the one hand I can really sympathize with her. She sees Owen doing all these big kid things like reading and going to school. She sees Ellie getting all sorts of attention and cuddles. And she seems to be somewhere in between. I use to laugh at the whole middle child thing, I figured everyone has it hard in some way. I am starting to see that it may be a bit tough to be the middle kid.
However, this doesn't excuse her behavior. She sometimes hugs Ellie, reaaallly hard, or gahh has pinched her cheeks, and once slapped her on the head. She has gone after Owen with the plastic golf clubs, which occasionally he has deserved. Any little thing will set her off, she starts screaming, thrashing and kicking. We have done lots of time outs, we have sent her to her room, I am thinking an exorcism is in order.
Last week was really bad. My mom has been very silently disaproving the way we talk about Maddie being a beyotch. She thinks Maddie is a total angel and can do virtually no wrong. Then last week Maddie pitched a total fit when mom was here. Mom made a comment about there being no consequences for her acting up. Which isn't true, however Maddie had spent the night at moms house and got to sleep late and she had also been given a lot of candy. Sometimes it isn't worth having a knock down drag out with a three year old.
I just don't know how to walk the line of helping her through the transition and maintaining discipline. Dude, parenting is hard sometimes. Plus, I spend a lot of time with teenagers, some of whom are very messed up and I wonder where did things go wrong? Will Ellie's birth mark the down hill slide for Maddie? Will she end up pregnant, on drugs and drop out of school because I wanted another baby? Or because I didn't handle everything properly? Which lead to much weeping on my part last week. Then I started thinking maybe I should just run away with Ellie, so Owen and Maddie can have their old lives back. Which made me start to think I may be having some post partum issues. I was talking to Bud and my mom about it, and they both think I should mention it to my doctor. I will, but just realizing that maybe my parenting decisions today won't condemn Maddie to a life of deliquency is pretty helpful.
Woo, this has rambled on alot. Any advice on dealing with a three year old would be great. By the way three year olds are way worse than the two's aren't they?
So Ellie is pretty easy at this point. Not easy is Maddie. I have am kind at my wits end with her. When Owen was this age and Maddie was born it didn't seem to affect him at all. However Ellie seems to have ruined the Maddie I have known and loved. She has constant tantrums, nothing makes her happy and she is very mad at us, particularly me.
On the one hand I can really sympathize with her. She sees Owen doing all these big kid things like reading and going to school. She sees Ellie getting all sorts of attention and cuddles. And she seems to be somewhere in between. I use to laugh at the whole middle child thing, I figured everyone has it hard in some way. I am starting to see that it may be a bit tough to be the middle kid.
However, this doesn't excuse her behavior. She sometimes hugs Ellie, reaaallly hard, or gahh has pinched her cheeks, and once slapped her on the head. She has gone after Owen with the plastic golf clubs, which occasionally he has deserved. Any little thing will set her off, she starts screaming, thrashing and kicking. We have done lots of time outs, we have sent her to her room, I am thinking an exorcism is in order.
Last week was really bad. My mom has been very silently disaproving the way we talk about Maddie being a beyotch. She thinks Maddie is a total angel and can do virtually no wrong. Then last week Maddie pitched a total fit when mom was here. Mom made a comment about there being no consequences for her acting up. Which isn't true, however Maddie had spent the night at moms house and got to sleep late and she had also been given a lot of candy. Sometimes it isn't worth having a knock down drag out with a three year old.
I just don't know how to walk the line of helping her through the transition and maintaining discipline. Dude, parenting is hard sometimes. Plus, I spend a lot of time with teenagers, some of whom are very messed up and I wonder where did things go wrong? Will Ellie's birth mark the down hill slide for Maddie? Will she end up pregnant, on drugs and drop out of school because I wanted another baby? Or because I didn't handle everything properly? Which lead to much weeping on my part last week. Then I started thinking maybe I should just run away with Ellie, so Owen and Maddie can have their old lives back. Which made me start to think I may be having some post partum issues. I was talking to Bud and my mom about it, and they both think I should mention it to my doctor. I will, but just realizing that maybe my parenting decisions today won't condemn Maddie to a life of deliquency is pretty helpful.
Woo, this has rambled on alot. Any advice on dealing with a three year old would be great. By the way three year olds are way worse than the two's aren't they?
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Tough Act to Follow
For those of you who were impressed with these mushrooms I made, check this out:
That is a cake made by my sister in law. And no she isn't a professional. I took a bunch of pictures, my mom freaked out when SIL started cutting it up. She really is talented. She is also an engineer, which maybe helps. I really need to step up my game. Thanks Vicki (bitch).
P.S. I really do love her. And yes the whole thing is cake and fondant. I did help, I lent her my fondant roller.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
In Sickness and Health The Finale
So I spent Saturday morning waiting for some test to be done and for my doctor to release me. In the meantime the nurse came by with pain medication. She brought liquid lortab, which I can't take because it makes me throw up. Now I'm not a doctor, I don't play one on tv and I didn't even sleep at a Holiday Inn Express last night, but I don't think throwing up is a good way to keep a cauterized throat from bleeding some more. When I told her that it would make me sick she offered crackers to settle my stomach. Yeah, 90 minutes of throat cauterizing, I'm sure a few packets of Saltines would really hit the spot. I explain all I could take was demerol and morphine. She called my doctor and came back to inform me it would have to be in shot form...like it was a punishment or something. Okey dokey.
Finally a blood person showed up to do a crazy test. The cut your arm and dab the blood every 30 seconds to see how long it takes for you to stop bleeding. She gave the range of average times and said that they kind of give up after 9 minutes. Sure enough nine minutes later I was still bleeding. She took some blood for testing and left. Mom and Bud were out getting a bite to eat, thus I didn't have anyone in the room with me who was coherent. I forgot to ask how I would get the results.
My doctor came in and I was expecting to be released, but he wanted to have me stay another night. Gahhhhh. I really don't like hospitals, and it was depressing. They don't have a wing for crazy complications so I was in the orthopedic surgery recovery area. The nurses didn't know what the heck to do with me. When my mom said she was visiting her daughter they tried to send her to maternity. Because when you are 31 you should be having babies, not tonsil problems.
Months prior to the debacle my brother got my mom tickets to Paul McCartney, I was suppose to go with her, but as luck would have it that was the day I was in the hospital. I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to go, even before the doctor said I had to stay another night. So it was decided Bud would go with my mom. Their only concern was me being left alone in the hospital. My brother and almost SIL came to the hospital to sit with me. In my family you are not allowed to be sick or in the hospital by yourself to get rest, you must have constant companionship.
Now at this point Bud had only had 4 hours of sleep in the last 60 or so hours, and my mom had not slept all of friday night either. So they went to the concert and got lost on the way back to my moms. They were at a stop sign and had no idea which way to turn. They were one block from her house. They had to drive around for a while before finding it.
The next morning I was finally released. That night I started throwing up again! I used the trash can, and Bud picked through the trash to happily announce that there was no blood. For some reason I kept throwing up for a few weeks. I was in the bathroom peeing at one point and coughed, next thing I know the door is open and Bud was asking if I was ok. The whole thing really traumatized him. They never really figured out what the problem was, there was speculation about some ibuprofen I took for cramps. Who knows? I have never had problems since. I think my doctor was also traumatized, he said he had never seen anything like that in the 27 years he had been in practice.
It took me a few months to feel back to my old self. It took me even longer to gain back all the weight I lost, I had to wait until the last possible week to have my wedding dress fitted because I didn't want to it to be fitted when I had lost 15 or 20 pounds that I needed to gain back. Even with all that trouble I would still have chosen to have them taken out. When they were removed my doctor found a lot of dead tissue so they would have kept causing a lot of problems. I stopped getting sick as often once the tonsils were out.
But the biggest thing for me was seeing how Bud took care of me. It was so great knowing I was marrying someone who would take care of me, no matter how gross and nasty I was. It was the first time since I was a little girl that I could completely let myself go and know that he would handle everything. He gave me a sponge bath in the hospital so the nurse didn't have to, he held my hair when I threw up, he picked up prescriptions at the store, carried the TV up and down stairs depending on where I wanted to lay, he called my sub and coworkers everyday to make sure my students would have productive work each day. Knowing I would grow old with someone who would always be there for me was worth every bit of pain and suffering.
Finally a blood person showed up to do a crazy test. The cut your arm and dab the blood every 30 seconds to see how long it takes for you to stop bleeding. She gave the range of average times and said that they kind of give up after 9 minutes. Sure enough nine minutes later I was still bleeding. She took some blood for testing and left. Mom and Bud were out getting a bite to eat, thus I didn't have anyone in the room with me who was coherent. I forgot to ask how I would get the results.
My doctor came in and I was expecting to be released, but he wanted to have me stay another night. Gahhhhh. I really don't like hospitals, and it was depressing. They don't have a wing for crazy complications so I was in the orthopedic surgery recovery area. The nurses didn't know what the heck to do with me. When my mom said she was visiting her daughter they tried to send her to maternity. Because when you are 31 you should be having babies, not tonsil problems.
Months prior to the debacle my brother got my mom tickets to Paul McCartney, I was suppose to go with her, but as luck would have it that was the day I was in the hospital. I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to go, even before the doctor said I had to stay another night. So it was decided Bud would go with my mom. Their only concern was me being left alone in the hospital. My brother and almost SIL came to the hospital to sit with me. In my family you are not allowed to be sick or in the hospital by yourself to get rest, you must have constant companionship.
Now at this point Bud had only had 4 hours of sleep in the last 60 or so hours, and my mom had not slept all of friday night either. So they went to the concert and got lost on the way back to my moms. They were at a stop sign and had no idea which way to turn. They were one block from her house. They had to drive around for a while before finding it.
The next morning I was finally released. That night I started throwing up again! I used the trash can, and Bud picked through the trash to happily announce that there was no blood. For some reason I kept throwing up for a few weeks. I was in the bathroom peeing at one point and coughed, next thing I know the door is open and Bud was asking if I was ok. The whole thing really traumatized him. They never really figured out what the problem was, there was speculation about some ibuprofen I took for cramps. Who knows? I have never had problems since. I think my doctor was also traumatized, he said he had never seen anything like that in the 27 years he had been in practice.
It took me a few months to feel back to my old self. It took me even longer to gain back all the weight I lost, I had to wait until the last possible week to have my wedding dress fitted because I didn't want to it to be fitted when I had lost 15 or 20 pounds that I needed to gain back. Even with all that trouble I would still have chosen to have them taken out. When they were removed my doctor found a lot of dead tissue so they would have kept causing a lot of problems. I stopped getting sick as often once the tonsils were out.
But the biggest thing for me was seeing how Bud took care of me. It was so great knowing I was marrying someone who would take care of me, no matter how gross and nasty I was. It was the first time since I was a little girl that I could completely let myself go and know that he would handle everything. He gave me a sponge bath in the hospital so the nurse didn't have to, he held my hair when I threw up, he picked up prescriptions at the store, carried the TV up and down stairs depending on where I wanted to lay, he called my sub and coworkers everyday to make sure my students would have productive work each day. Knowing I would grow old with someone who would always be there for me was worth every bit of pain and suffering.
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