life's bright chaos

Unexplicably sad

2010-09-17T20:18:00.004-04:00

I've been asked to remove this post so I have. Thank you all to those of you who commented and wrote. It means more to me than I dare tell you here.

The holiday "season"

2008-12-02T09:36:00.007-05:00

I find it difficult to explain to non-Jews how overwhelming the holiday season can be to someone who is not Christian. People get caught up in the "joy of the season" and assume, perhaps, that the "season" such as it is, is the same for us all. Christmas in all its commercial glory truly eclipses anything else out there, to the chagrin of those of us who celebrate Chanukah (or Hanukah or Channuka or Hannuka or however you want to spell it).

There are many - astonishingly many to my mind - who just plain don't understand that being Jewish means that we don't celebrate Christmas because ... newsflash ... we don't believe as Jesus as God. This seems to be a shocker to any number of people. But I digress.

We started early - sorry, *I* started early with Imri, explaining to him that we are Jewish and as such, we don't celebrate Xmas. Or Christmas. Or however you want to spell it. It's still hard for a little guy to understand, even though he turned to me the other day and piped up "we don't celebrate Christmas, mommy! We're Chewish!"
What makes it harder is that my husband is not Chewish ...er.. Jewish. He is rather non-denominational but the traditions of Xmas are important to him and I think it's been hard on him, not having a tree and other trimmings around our house at holiday time.

I've managed to postpone this for some time using the "oh, the kids will wreck a tree" line but he hinted this year that next year both kids will be old enough to handle a tree. I'm dismayed. But this isn't where I wanted to go in this post - I am meandering, as usual.

What I did want to talk about, although I am not sure how or where to start, is about being Jewish in a non-Jewish world. And obviously, I am not doing that well.

It's important for me - for everyone with a conscience, in my opinion, to remember that people are still hunted down, tortured and killed because they are of a different religion, race, creed, gender, what have you. In this specific case, I am referring to the torture of Jewish hostages in Mumbai, prior to their brutal execution.
So I will sadly post this link to the attacks in Mumbai. One of my oldest and dearest friends sent it to me this morning with a request to blog about this and while I haven't blogged in a long time, I felt it necessary to write about this. It saddens me greatly that it has received so little attention - while the tragedy in Mumbai is horrifying to any sane person, the singling out of Jewish people- yet again - cuts deeply.

I wish I knew how to end this post with an upbeat and positive message but the best I can do is post this picture for you all, because when I am deeply sorrowed, the only thing that helps me are these bright faces.

The source of my contentment

2008-10-25T14:41:00.011-04:00

More experienced BTDT moms have probably already had that stunning revelation, the one where you realize that your thoughts of yesteryear were completely erroneous. In this instance I speak of my son ... how big I thought he was last year when we took him on the train for his 2nd birthday, how grown up (relatively speaking, of course), etc ...

I'm sitting here looking at pictures of his 3rd birthday - once again we took him to that same train and I took pictures with thoughts of comparison dancing in my head. As I was clicking away, the realisation dawned ... he is so much bigger, so much more grown up this year.

Ok, laugh at me. This is not rocket science, I'm well aware that with each passing year, he will g-d willing, get bigger and older and wiser. It's hard to explain and I'm not much of a writer but somehow when I took his pictures last year on the train, I was overcome with how big my boy had become ... and now ...

Ah, I'll shut up. I can't really explain. It's far too nebulous to nail down into words, at least for me. The pictures will speak for me, perhaps. It was a glorious autumn day, chilly but sunny and bright.

And Carmel, the tiny baby who slept the entire train ride a year ago, this year was an active participant. She bounced on my lap as if to say "faster, faster, mommy!"

She is fearless, by the way. Utterly fearless.

And just for the heck of it, some autumn pics.

And while life is hectic, crazy and often out of control, I look at my kids and something just clicks for me. As Jodi put it so eloquently, I've won my own version of the "Mommy Wars".

Yeah. :)

A note to those who miss me

2008-10-02T20:20:00.004-04:00

I'm sorry it's been so very long. It's been hard to keep up with an extraordinarily verbal and physically agile nearly 3 year old and a 13 month old who decided to start walking at 10 months of age.

Add to that a new job for me - yes, I'm a govie now and very happy - and just the same old crap, trying to keep our heads above water in this economy and just paying the bills ... well, it's been crazed.

But with the political season amongst us, I had to make a quick post and say ... Sarah PALIN???? Are you effing KIDDING me????

I mean, with all the bright, articulate and educated women out there to choose from, even those on the wrong side of my political spectrum ...that was the best McCain could do? Fuck that.

And so I bring you two important videos, for those of you who care about such things and who may be on the fence.

and

Moving forward ... despite the cost of gas

2008-05-26T08:11:00.006-04:00

Sorry to worry so many of you ... and thank goodness for long weekends. Without them, I'd get little done. In the civilized country of Canada, there is a long weekend every month, May through October. *sigh*. Think of all I'd get done ...

We are better. Still struggling but better.

Imri is growing like a weed. He is cuter than cute and full of 2-3 year old defiance and "I do!! I do!!!" whenever we want to do things for him. I am a touch concerned about his level of aggression but we just keep repeating our mantra of "gentle" and enforcing time outs when necessary. He is firmly ensconced in his big boy room now (after a month hiatus when we just gave up and decided to revisit later. Smart idea.), sleeping in his car bed and gravitating into our bedroom semi-frequently in the early morning hours. He is delicious.

Carmel is also growing in leaps and bounds. She is determined to walk before she crawls and is sort of teetering on the boundary of both those activities. She would rather stand than sit and loves snuggling with mommy ... but we are slowly getting her into the crib at night. I learned ... well, semi-learned - the danger of waiting too long with that. It's still difficult and we're not past her being there only in the first part of the night but with time this may change. Hopefully.

The two kids have started playing together this weekend and it is utterly wonderful to see. Carmel adores Imri and follows his every move and Imri feels very special and important when he sees how Carmel worships him. So they play a little and I shep nachas.

We went to Canada for Passover and had her naming ceremony at a synagogue there - it was a beautiful ceremony and I felt very lucky and even blessed (and I use that word cautiously). Check out the picture, you won't get to see me wearing a tallis very often. Or John wearing a kippah, for that matter. It was also good to see the family whom I miss every day more and more. I'd love to get out of this place and move back. Hopefully very soon. One day.

Work is work. Too much crap, not enough money, as always. The commute is killing me - the ridiculous cost of gasoline has John and I commuting together. I am looking for something closer to home. John needs to do that too but he has been where he is for 15 years and is reluctant. Understandable but his commute is 120 miles round-trip every day. Yikes.

The cost of gasoline is also putting a substantial crimp in our budget, as I'm sure it has done to every other middle class (hahahahaha, as if) family out there. We are being squeezed tremendously. Between our mortgage, the cost of daycare (which we refer to as our second mortgage, no joke), the cost of gasoline and the cost of basics, there isn't anything left over. Nothing.

It ain't easy.

Which, when you boil it down to the nitty gritty, means that I won't be seeing the new Indiana Jones movie until it has its television premier.

Oy.

It's been a long long time ...

2008-03-22T20:57:00.002-04:00

Where to start? With my wonderful, growing kids? My insane life? My terrible loneliness? The wreck of my marriage? I just don't know anymore.

It's hard to know which way is up. Some days I just feel like I can't breathe and there is no escape. No place in which to find greener pastures and a fresh breeze, nowhere to find a place to lay my head for a few moments and ... stop.

Our financial situation has taken a severe toll on our marriage or more properly, on my view of our marriage. I blame my husband for our dire straits ... for not managing us more carefully, for not understanding the concept of "restraint" and waiting for wants, rather than having to have them immediately. But I am not faultless. He blames me, my staying part-time while Imri was in his first year ... and fails to see that the warning signs were there long, long before that.

Carmel still sleeps with me and my husband refuses to share that bed. So sex has been non-existent ... not to mention that I am constantly exhausted. Beyond exhausted, actually. I rise at 5:45 - after being up many times with either child, get every one's lunch ready, get me ready, shower if I have time which I often don't, and take off with the kids. Drop them at daycare around 7:30-7:45 and head to work. Get there around 8:30, usually late because of traffic. Work like a dog till 3:30. Get back in the car, pick up the kids and get home between five and 5:30. Dinner occurs sometime between 6 and 7. Bedtime starts around 8 - Husband gets Imri down to sleep... and I usually fall asleep, exhausted, with the TV on and Carmel beside me.

My bad for not trying to get her into her crib/bassinet before now.

But Imri's big boy room is finished now and he slept there for the first time last night. I didn't try and get Carmel in her bassinet last night, so I guess I'm evil but I was exhausted.

Imri also started going in the potty ... not religiously but a start. He is in the throes of two-dom and is a delight when he isn't having some form of conniption.

Carmel is six months and a delight. Eating solids, wakes up laughing, happy happy child. And beautiful, too.

And my husband is bitter because we haven't had a marriage for some time now. He says two years, which is an exaggeration, of course but it is to him what it is. So any issue I bring up brings up the lack of sex, lack of adult relationship, etc. And today he throws some shot at me about making a permanent bedroom in the basement if I don't move Carmel into the bassinet soon and he just doesn't care anymore because he has nothing and has been very patient, etc.

I guess I am sitting here thinking ... "and what do I have that you don't?". I never get time for me. Never. I had a haircut at the barbershop today after Imri's haircut because I was desperate. I never buy myself anything and have no money anyway. I never go anywhere. And the infertility bulletin board which I helped administer has gone in a path that I don't appreciate so I left that.
I have no friends nearby - not that I ever get time to spend with them if I did and I am too emotionally exhausted to reach out anyway. My relationship with my family in Canada is currently very strained so no outlet there. Besides, Canada isn't even an option because of our financial situation - that's gotten messed up badly.

I'm looking for new jobs that would take me away from my family during the weekends or nights or what have you so we can lose the cost of daycare as we're sinking ... I could go on.

So it seems to me that he wants sex. And I am miserable and couldn't care less. And now I feel that I have to go there just to regain my marriage and that doesn't make it sexy.

A rat in a cage, I am. Stress and pressure from all sides and no outlet. My psoriasis is the worst it has ever been in my life.

Sorry for the downer. Not that anyone reads this anymore, I'm sure, I just had to write it all out. My kids are the only thing that make this life worth living right now. I am keeping it together, somehow. For now. It's gonna shatter soon, I think.

I yuv you, mommy

2008-01-27T07:21:00.000-05:00

I've waited to hear that for so many years ... needless to say, (although I will anyway) that I burst into tears of joy. Sure, he's said it before but he is just now "getting it". My Imri is a sweet kid. We seem to be settling into a pattern of sorts - he is definitely happier that both he and his sister go to daycare, as opposed to him going and Carmel getting to stay home with mommy. The jealousy is there but it isn't as ferocious. I wish that could be attributed to good parenting, and maybe it can be, I just don't know. It could just be inertia. At least some of that terrible aggression towards yours truly has abated.

He is growing by leaps and bounds and I could go on and on brag brag but suffice it to say that he's smart, clever and sharp as a blade. And sweet. Which makes it extra nice. Sure, we have our fair share of meltdowns and "no!!" but he tends to come around fairly quickly.

Speaking of growing by leaps and bounds, anyone have personal experience with the Graco Nautilus? Imri has pretty much grown out of his Roundabout and Carmel out of her infant seat ... *sniff*

Carmel is cutting teeth and it's not fun for her, or for me. Why me? Because I decided to make the same "mistake" as I did with her brother and keep her in bed with me. Yes, we co-sleep and I am cursing myself at the same time that I rejoice at snuggling with her.
There was little snuggling last night, just boob-seeking, whimpering and much tossing and turning. Have I mentioned gas? She is one heck of a gassy baby and her farts are hellacious. Yowza. That doesn't help. So I am one tired mama today. Hasn't seemed to affect her mood at all, thankfully.

She is getting big, though. I have started putting her in the jumperoo and she adores it, just like Imri did. She jumps and laughs and is generally happy, which is nice coming from the kid who loves to be held. I think solids are coming up soon for her. Maybe today, if I stay awake long enough to go to the grocery store.

The resemblance between my two kids is uncanny, actually.

At least I think so.

On other topics ... Hillary? Barack? I don't know. I'm just glad we're debating between a woman and a person of colour. And may I just mention that every single candidate on the Republican side scares me?

And man oh man, we could use those rebate cheques ... *sigh*.

My blog is aptly named

2008-01-06T12:36:00.000-05:00

Sorry, gang. Life has been good ... and very tough at times. Chaotic, even. I haven't felt much like writing. At the same time, I have felt like writing but have been busy. Hah. I know. Consider Jen, with triplets and a small one and she still finds the time. I am a different story, it seems.

We went through a very difficult time financially over the last several months. Fortunately (or not, depending on your perspective), it is all coming to an end soon, with various legal machinations. It sucks but it was our only alternative. We actually came close to losing our home, so I am elated and delighted that we managed to avoid that - and by the skin of our teeth, no less.

Because of that, the holidays were a subdued affair for us this year, although I did manage to sell a bunch of stuff on Ebay, enabling us to get Imri some small gifts. Also, good friends came through for us in more ways than I can count, financially and otherwise, to make sure that our kids had a great holiday. I am rich in friends and in love and while it would be nice to be rich in ... er ... riches ...it is good to be loved.

That crap is the main reason I haven't felt like writing. Also ...too tense, in knots, stressed and angry, working full time and exhausted. Yeah. And grateful for what we do have. In other words, I've felt torn into bits on so many levels I haven't been sure which way is up.

In other news, Carmel is thriving. She is a sweetheart - fairly laid back and happy unless beleaguered by gas. She's adjusted to daycare rather well. I am slowly getting her on formula as my supply has dropped right off, and my supply of domperidone is gone now - and too expensive for me to replenish. But whoooooeeeyyy, talk about stinky farts. Yowza. i don't remember Imri being this stinky on formula, but then he went on breast milk only at 6 months of age, as opposed to Carmel's 3.5 months.

Her four month visit found her at 14.7lbs and 25 inches, both 75th percentile and Dr Wonderful was delighted with her. She is babbling nicely and trying to sit up and I believe she is starting to teethe. She also loves to try and swallow her hands whole. Her smiles are more elusive than her brother's at the same age, but just as brilliant.

Imri is doing well. He had a bad respiratory infection a few weeks ago with a terrible cough and he ended up needing a breathing treatment at the doc's office. But no asthma, just that one isolated incident. He is growing like a weed, 35lbs and 36.5 inches tall, rambunctious and full of life. He is constantly testing testing 1,2,3. Which is hard when you're stressed, exhausted and plumb worn out. But he is wonderful, verbal and a cutie pie to boot. His language skills, which have always been strong, are quite formidable now and accordingly, his favourite books are Seuss and Silverstein. Favourite toys are Thomas (of course) and anything vaguely monster-truck related. Especially Grave Digger. Those of you in the know are already nodding sagely, I know.

So that's that. The Redskins blew it yesterday but at least my beloved Canadiens are faring better.

Oh, and boggle on Facebook is highly addictive.

That's all, folks. I'll try and post more frequently but make no promises. Thanks for caring so much.

Almost over

2007-10-31T13:59:00.000-04:00

Monday I go back to work. Eight short weeks ... with Imri I had 12. But money is much tighter this time around.

It's killing me. Each time I think about it my heart starts racing, tears well up and my palms go sweaty. 8 weeks old. She is tiny ... too tiny to leave her mommy's arms.

It's killing me.

Carmel has started smiling at me. She coos and kind of chortles a little. Her temperament is definitely her own - a bit more high maintenance than her brother was. 0-60 in no time flat ... and then it's hard to get her to calm. Early intervention is key with my "just-so" girl. She does have lots of gas and some spit up ... something I never saw with Imri. But for the most part, she is content.

Carmel, you are beyond sweet - so tiny, so cute, so obviously alert and bright. Your face lights up at the sight of me, at the bright lights around you, at the colours on your play-mat. We are just getting to know one another, you and I. I can't stand the thought of leaving you with someone else.

And I have to leave you.

It's plain wrong.

I found a nursing school girlfriend by chance the other day, while surfing the web. She lives in Canada and is home on maternity leave with her second child, who was born in May. Because Canada supports families who have children by giving paid maternity leave.

My daughter was born in September and I have to go back to work. Because here, in one of the richest and most powerful countries in the world, there is no mandated maternity leave, paid or otherwise. In other words, the US government for all its "family values" talk, doesn't give a shit about families.

It's easy to go on and on about cells multiplying in the uterus ... doesn't cost a thing. But when the money needs to go where the mouth is, this government is strangely silent. Unless it comes to asking Congress for even more money for a war we shouldn't be in, in a country whose people don't want us. But care for our own families?? Nah. Why bother? Too expensive. So veto the s-chip bill, Georgie, why don't you, block children's access to health care ... but yell really loud about abortion rights because that costs you nothing.

Yes, I'm not happy. I can't stand the thought of leaving my infant daughter in daycare, all because I'm living in the wrong country. I told John that we are going to be back in Canada before Imri goes into first grade. Non-negotiable.

Please send us good wishes.

He's two. sniff

2007-10-20T08:39:00.001-04:00

My little boy is getting big. Yes, he's still little, only two now, but when I look at his sister, he's practically ginormous.

Imri, you can jump now ... both feet off the ground. Your vocabulary (yes, I know, I know, I brag about this a lot)is incredible and expanding every day. You can tell us colours and are getting shapes under your belt. Numbers still need some work - not the recital of their names which you do fairly well, but the comprehension of their meaning. You sing songs; ABC, itsy bitsy spider, etc. You sit down with books and "read" them.

You are my special boy, Imri ... even if you drive me to distraction some days. Mommy is still the target for your displeasure with the change in our lives, aka Carmel. We are slowly getting there but it's tough for you some days. I did see an inkling of love when mommy went to leave Carmel in the infant room of the daycare center for a brief moment - you got all upset that Carmel wouldn't be coming with us. That did make me smile.

Your birthday was last Sunday and we celebrated in style. Train style, that is, one of your favourite things. Unfortunately, you woke up with a bad cold but we celebrated anyway. Here are some of the highlights.

Other than a few tantrums, a bad cold and two year old crap, we had a lovely day.

After breakfast Imri opened his first present ...

He loves this table, seriously. He does have another train table but it is higher off the ground and hard for him to use, so this was a great find. Not to mention I got it cheap off of Ebay. All we had to do was drive to Baltimore to pick it up.

After that, we went to the nearby Train Station - it's not an active railroad, but there is a museum and they run trains on the weekends during the fall and summer - it's an hour long ride and very nice. They also host birthdays on the caboose, something to consider in a couple of years time.

Imri and Daddy on the caboose

Here is Imri sitting on the seat in the train, eating goldfish.

And yes, that is a Thomas snack holder.

Imri fell asleep halfway through ...

yes, those are Thomas sneakers ...

He woke up when we got off and went to see the engine. The conductor and engineer took him up into the engine!

The engineer even tooted the horn!

We toured the older trains that aren't being used anymore

It was great fun! Then we went home and had cake

And mommy and daddy spoiled a small boy rotten with another present ... a trike!

Here's daddy taking Imri for a ride - the trike has a steering wheel for the parents ... very nice.

And in the end ... he'd rather play with sticks ...

And yes, that is a train on his shirt. What can I say?

Life is beautiful

2007-10-01T10:56:00.000-04:00

We are moving along nicely at Chez Chaos. Carmel is growing nicely; she has her first month appointment on Friday and I am looking forward to finding out her weight gain as she is no longer as light as air, the little porker.

We are still struggling with her tummy issues: discomfort, lots of gas (some quite smelly), straining and grunting, some greenish poops. I did a bunch of reading as is my wont, and found out that it may be due to overactive letdown (and therefore a foremilk/hindmilk imbalance, perhaps), which I definitely have. I've been trying to do different things to make it better for her but it doesn't always seem to work. I've tried frequent burping (not a good burper, not my girl) but when she doesn't burp - and I try in a variety of positions - do I put her back on the boob so she can get the hindmilk?, pumping first (if I can), feeding while reclined, delatching and relatching ... any other thoughts out there?

Other than that, I can really see how she's growing and changing. She's filling out - what were scrawny chicken legs are getting plump and strong, her little cheeks are cherubic and chubby and she is awake more often now. She is alert and watchful and really doesn't like it when she can't see what's going on around her. And, she's starting to recognize her mommy. This morning, I saw *something* in her eyes when she saw me ... a glimmer of a smile and what I swear is recognition. I'm not just saying that because I'm her doting mother, either. She does recognize me by sight.

She's also starting to hold her head up really well. Tummy time this morning netted us head position changes from side to side and more vocalizing. And i finally clued into the fact that she's not a bouncy seat fan but loves the swing. I'm loving this, I really am. I am so enjoying my daughter.

This afternoon she actually grabbed for my hand as she curled up in my lap after nursing. *sniff*

Life is damned good, have I mentioned that?

Imri has good and not so good days. His language skills are amazing - at least to us. He speaks in complete sentences now and they get more complex by the day, it seems. He is also counting well "one, two, three, five, six, seven, nine, ten". Not bad. He has the colour "red" down pat, and usually "green" too ... blue and green can be interchangeable. Yellow is a whole nother ball game. He is still trying to sort out the whole Carmel thing and where he falls on the continuum. We constantly give reassurances as to his place in our hearts, but heck - it's damned hard being nearly two.

After all, being two means wielding some serious power. Like the power of "no". A potent word which stops big people in their tracks. Even if you're saying no to something you actually want, it's still pretty cool to say it and see the results.

Hence the defiance thing, so I've been trying to de-escalate by counting to three. As in "ok, I'm going to count to three. You need to get off of the table or you'll go to time-out. One ... time to get off the table. TWO ... time to get off the table ... two and a half! ... "
Usually that's as far as we go. For now.

But it's still worth every darned minute of frustration. Every damned minute.

911

2007-09-25T12:11:00.000-04:00

It was approximately 7:30 pm. I was exhausted. Carmel had been very fussy with gas and frequent poops, and difficult to console at times and Imri was pushing my buttons as only a 2 year old can do. He was playing with all the stuff he knows he shouldn't play with; the phone, the remote control, the baby's car seat and bouncy seat, etc etc etc.

I decided to head upstairs as the baby was relatively quiet, with the faint hope of stealing a little early evening sleep. John decided to take Imri upstairs and get him ready for bed, too. We all trooped upstairs and I started to change Carmel on our bed.

John has Imri on the changing table and calls out to me "Is someone knocking?" I didn't hear anything and told him as much. A few seconds later, I do hear a knock but I'm mid-swipe with the diaper kit and ignore it. Then John calls out "Do you want to get the door?" just as the knocking gets very insistent. And loud. I can't help but wonder WTF is knocking on our door at 7:30pm and why in the world J would think that I could get the door, when I'm changing the tuchas of a newborn ...

The knocking becomes kind of pounding and J grabs Imri and heads downstairs. I hear male voices speaking but can't make out what is being said but it sounds official. Carmel is now changed and I head downstairs, worried.

There stand two of Maryland's finest in our doorway. "Is everything ok here, Ma'am?" the one queries and I look at him blankly and answer that yes, everything is fine ?? "There was a 911 call from this residence, Ma'am." "No Sir, not from here!" The officer confirms with dispatch that indeed, a 911 call came from our number.

Then the light dawns. I look at J, J looks at me and we grin. "I think it may have been our toddler, Officer! We are so sorry!". I go and grab our phone, the object of Imri's earlier attention and hit the redial button. Sure enough, the numbers 9111111111111 flash at me. I look at Imri, sitting in his daddy's arms and laugh.

We apologize profusely and the officers laugh it off and depart.

Now we just have to train Imri to do it when it's actually needed. And hope that the ETA of the cops gets better ... it took a good ten minutes or more for them to show up to a 911 call.

And yes, I am both fat and tired. But so wonderfully happy with my children beside me. My children! Yeah, 'happy' doesn't quite cut it.

From the trenches

2007-09-24T09:13:00.000-04:00

Carmel is sick. Imri brought home a cold from daycare and it migrated, of course. She's not that bad, just a stuffy/runny nose and a tiny cough that would be cute if it didn't signify illness.
No fever ... just a virus, more than likely. I'm really hoping that it passes quickly for her and for her brother, so that when I get it, I won't have to worry about the kiddos.

She is also terribly gassy. I'm really hoping this phase passes quickly because the need for sleep is killing me.

Imri has a runny nose and a cough too. Oh, and a huge chip on his shoulder. It seems to be much harder for him over the weekends, when what was his "mommy and daddy time" has now been partially usurped by a crying stranger. He has a myriad of ways of showing his displeasure with the stranger, including throwing things in her general direction (the phone, an empty cup, etc), running his trucks into her car seat as she naps within, etc. We've tried positive reinforcement for good behaviour, time-outs, one-on-one time, etc. Nothing seems to work for any long-term period of time, especially when he realizes that the stranger is still here when all is said and done.

It ain't easy being nearly two.

Or being the parents of said child ... I've lost my temper a couple of times - not good. No, I'm not a perfect parent. I'm sleep deprived and moody and having trouble with the person who was previously my sun-shiny child. I lose it sometimes, and yell. And it upsets me - and it upsets Imri, obviously. Calling it "human" is true but it doesn't help me parent my beloved boy any better.

Thoughts?

Two weeks old

2007-09-18T08:52:00.000-04:00

This time two weeks ago, I was pacing anxiously, waiting for the hospital to call. All the anxiety, the stress and finally ... the c-section. All they had to say was "risk of contracting meningitis" and it was decided.

I'm still not terribly happy with the way it went - not the multiple spinal stick attempts by the anaesthesiologist, although that SUCKED. I had been pretty specific about wanting my daughter with me afterwards but they took her to the nursery with John in tow, and the doc needed to tie my tube and sew me up ... I guess it was to be expected but I kept asking for her in the recovery room. They finally did bring her to me just as we were to go to the post-partum area, I'm not sure how long it took all in all. It wasn't awful but I did want to hold her longer than the 2 minutes I got in the OR.

But ... she is beautiful (as you've seen) and perfect and I am in heaven, seriously. A lot more relaxed than I was with Imri, partially because my parents aren't here and I don't have to plan a bris, partially because I am not freaking out over what I should be doing next. I'm just letting Carmel be Carmel. Heck, I even took a nice shower this morning and it lasted longer than 30 seconds. I remember with Imri, I'd barely let the water wet me down before the guilt struck and I felt the need to go to him, even if he was sleeping in the car seat right in front of me.

Other than that, I am healing well and rapidly. I feel good. Still a lot of weight to come off but then, I expected that. At least the swelling has gone down. I won't be as foolish as I was after having Imri, but I'd love to wear my rings again. Ah well. I am grateful that Imri is in daycare ... I can't imagine doing this with a nearly two year old present.

Imri is slowly getting back to himself. He is definitely in the throes of the Terrible Twos but we are trying to get a handle on parenting this small person with new behaviours. As a friend of mine wisely said, "this is not who he is, it's just a phase he's going through". It must be awful to have so little within your control. I try to give him choices but he doesn't quite get the concept of "or" yet.

It's definitely challenging - last night he started crying for "dinner, dinner" and ran towards the kitchen just as John came to announce that dinner was ready. Imri then backed up and started crying "no, no!". So I told him that was fine, but mommy and daddy were going to eat "brats" (a favourite supper) and he could join us when he was ready - to which he danced back and forth, depending on which way I stepped. Towards him and he ran away - towards the kitchen and he too, went that way. Finally John just scooped him up and because he was hungry, he didn't do his new "help, I've fallen and I won't let you pick me up" trick.

I won't talk about the new "I'm not gonna go to sleep and you can't make me" stuff.

He's still a total lovebug though ... and we're hoping he will overcome this trauma in time and with our help and love. He's definitely affectionate with his sister but it's obvious that she's not his favourite person, either.

Time. Just time. And maybe some fine single malt, too.

Shana Tova!

2007-09-12T18:08:00.001-04:00

May this New Year bring us all joy, happiness, and prosperity. And may all our dreams come to bountiful fruition ...

From Cloud 9 ...

2007-09-09T17:03:00.001-04:00

Just a quick note to say that our daughter, Carmel Maor, was born via unexpected c-section on Tuesday. She weighed in at 6lbs, 9oz and is 19 & 7/8 inches long. She is beautiful! She does have a touch of jaundice but we are hoping it will pass quickly and not be anywhere as bad as Imri's was.

She is eating well and my nipples are rather mangled, but this too shall pass.

Imri entered the Terrible Twos while I was gone, replete with "NO!!!" and throwing himself on the floor as to hamper our ability to move him. Where do they learn that stuff? I'm sure he's never been to a WTO riot in DC yet. He alternates between giving his sister kisses and screaming "NO baby!!" when I come into his room in the morning. But at least he's forgiven me for leaving him ... he really had a tough time without mommy, despite the presence of grandparents and his dad.

My parents left today and while I am grateful for all they did and that they were here, it's nice to have the house back and to get our family back into a routine again.

Ahhh routine. I'm guessing that will return in 3-5 years or so.

My daughter is home. My daughter. Words I never thought I'd ever have a chance to say. The feelings of gratitude and over-whelmedness are beyond my inadequacy with language.

Will try to keep the Internets posted but bear with me, please.

The day before the storm ...

2007-09-03T06:53:00.000-04:00

I am sitting here, sipping on good coffee (ain't gonna happen at the hospital)and watching Imri watch the Wiggles on DVD. And why yes, I do feel as large as Dorothy the Dinosaur, thank you for asking.

Tomorrow is D-Day. Or should I say A-Day. My 'rents should be here sometime tonight and we have the computer room ready for them to take over. Well, mostly ready. It's just easiest to have them down on the ground floor where they don't have to maneuver baby gates and climb staircases. Yeah, I'll lose my computer after 8:30pm, but don't I now?? I'm more concerned about Imri not having his morning DVD ...hmmm. Maybe we should move a comp into the living room?

Ack.

No laptop here, sadly.

I am very swollen and puffy these days, the fluid (and food and salt intake) have finally caught up with me. If I was headachy and nauseated I'd probably be more concerned but baby girl is moving well so ... all systems seem go. The big question is if they will let me deliver vaginally or not. I'm off the Lovenox (insert big effing happy dance here!)and on other medications as prescribed so ... we shall see. I have to call into L&D tomorrow and see if there's room for my fat tuchas ... and the baby. Here's hoping they don't tell me to come in at 8pm or some such. I can't fathom sitting around all day waiting for the ETA.

With my parents. Who will likely be more nervous than I. As will my husband.

My bag is packed and there are a miscellany of presents for a small boy from an even smaller girl. And a small, pink and soft stuffed animal for a tiny girl from her big brother.

Send us good wishes and luck!

And the OB said ...

2007-08-30T17:58:00.000-04:00

"You're one cm dilated".

I nearly fell over. After all, my cervix was long and closed just last week. I guess all that coughing did its job.

Also, GBS negative, platelets holding around 100,000. So, it looks like we're on for Tuesday. OB wants to do a Foley balloon induction with pitocin. I've done a little reading and lean more towards Foley without pitocin to start.
Any thoughts out there? BTDT moms?

Now to get the house ready. No, not for the baby's arrival. For the arrival of my mother, of course ...

Tuesday. Ack.

Getting closer now

2007-08-28T18:08:00.001-04:00

I'm finally starting to feel better. The cough belays that but ... it too is better. At least I'm not in danger of running out of incontinence pads again. Kleenex, maybe.

Imri is better too and that is the best news. I just seem to have gotten this illness a lot harder and heavier than anyone else. What can I say? I have a crappy immune system at the best of times, never mind when pregnant. It would just be nice to get a few consecutive hours of sleep without waking from coughing or needing to pee. Or from a small boy calling for his mommy at 3:30, 4:00, 5:00 and 5:45. Not sure what that was about last night.

Monday had me at Dr High Risk's office for my last NST - baby once again scored 8 of 8 and it was my favourite sonographer this time. There were many tears and hugs and I've basically been told "send us pictures!". They're done with me. Unless my platelets drop further.

Last check they were 94,000. I think I am having them redone tomorrow, probably before my last OB appointment prior to induction. *gulp*. If they stay low, steroids will be coming my way. But it looks like Tuesday is a go. *gulp*. Last time it was "hey, your fluid is low, off to the hospital with you NOW". I sort of prefer that to this waiting game.

Imri is growing by leaps and bounds, primarily in his language skills. John and I are pretty blown away by the things he says, yet when I come here to detail his many delights, they seem to escape me. One of his cuter escapades involved him requesting some papers from my desk. When denied his request, Imri said "Imri have them". I replied that no, they were not his. He looked concerned. "Imri want them!" was the next statement, made with some urgency. I replied with a slightly melodic version of a well-known Stones tune. Imri became very upset. He looked up at me and said seriously and emphatically .. "Imri NEED them!!!!"

At which point John and I both lost it.

He is growing up in other ways, too. He used to always rock to sleep in John or my arms ... now he wants us to put him in his crib and fall asleep that way. *sniff*. I miss those snuggles, even if it has grown quite difficult with the size of my belly.

And I am trying not to think of the challenges of keeping two under two happy. Yes, I am frightened. Terrified, actually. La la la la la nothing to see here, move along ...

I will keep The Internets posted about my OB appointment tomorrow.

Sick again

2007-08-21T15:42:00.000-04:00

This sucks. I have a full-out, full-blown cold/flu/respiratory infection, complete with dripping nose, hacking cough and accompanying crud. Can't sleep except for sitting up and we all know how restful that is. The violence of the coughing fits is only surpassed by the need to wear a pad. Constantly. Because I have no bladder control anymore, so it seems. One of the docs at work took pity and gave me an Rx for antibiotics. And a prescription hemorrhoid cream. I'm just saying.

Fuck.

My visit to Dr High Risk started out with an absolutely lovely drive down I-270 in the rain, together with 100,000 of my other driving cohorts, none of whom seemed to grasp that a light drizzle really doesn't necessitate driving at 20 mph. Honest. Somewhere in the midst of which, my beloved husband who was driving our son to daycare, called me to tell me that Imri was puking in the car and John was turning around to bring him home. And could I please do the same?

My attempts to reassure said beloved husband that the puking was most likely due to the beginnings of a cold/mucus storm together with the consumption of milk seemed to fall on deaf ears and an increasingly upset husband. My attempts to explain the need for this appointment with Dr High Risk received the same response. Not that there was anywhere I could go ... I was stuck on the highway with no nearby exit.

After having a small snit, John realized that I truly was stuck and that because of the violence of the coughing fits, a check of my fluid level was very important. Better yet, once home Imri settled down with no further episodes of vomiting, a great appetite and good cheer. Which freed me to continue fighting my way through highway hell. I arrived at my appointment only 25 minutes late or so .... grrrr.

The sonographer wasn't my favourite but you can't ask for everything - what I did ask for and get was a decent fluid measurement - 10cm, down from 12 the week before but to be expected, all things considered. Cord pressure was great, heartbeat in the 160s. Baby girl scored 8 of 8. The sonographer encouraged me to continue drinking 2-3 liters a day to which I raised a brow ... hard to do when you pee out everything you drink upon coughing... but I digress. Dr Risky's office doesn't do cervix checks past 34 weeks but stressed the need to call my OB and let them know about the coughing fits, etc.
Which I did and my indifferent OB's office first asked me why I was bothering to tell them this ("but are you having contractions?") and then told me to keep my appointment for tomorrow, which I had planned to do anyway. I think they need to do the strep test anyway as I am nearly 36 weeks so they probably will check my cervix. Ack. That's always so much fun this late in pregnancy. With a cough.

I'm afraid I'll baptize the OB ...

Stay tuned.

Oh, and Imri is coughing. *sigh*. I'm just grateful this is happening now, not in 2 weeks time. Yes, September the 4th is two weeks today. Ack. Have I mentioned how much pink has invaded my home? I'm very blessed with generous friends and co-workers.

And, at least we've agreed on a name.

Weekly fluid update

2007-08-15T08:08:00.000-04:00

Yeah, exciting. I know. That's about it these days.

My fluid has risen to 12cm! Dr High Risk was warmly delighted with me and shook my hand not once but twice and told me that I'm doing everything right. He looked at me as if I was a crazy woman when I asked if I could increase my work hours.

Well ... I had to ask. Not that I really want to increase my work hours but we could use the cash. Ah well.

In the "cool news" category, it looks like my soon-to-be-daughter has a head of hair! Or so the ultrasound shows. Pretty neat, considering I had a dream this week that she was born with a full head of black hair. I'm starting to get excited, seriously. That kind of thing just makes it more "real" ... not that the heartburn, hemorrhoids, enormous stomach, etc don't make it real, but still. Oh, and she weighs approximately 5 and a half lbs and definitely doing practice breathing in utero - all is well.

I see the OB today and hopefully can confirm the induction date - she forgot to give the worksheet to her scheduler. I've really had mixed care from my OB's office - on one hand they've been great, on the other hand, I've had to stay on top of them to get good follow-up, such as blood work, etc. Like my platelets. It's confusing.

John left for S. Carolina this morning to see Jr graduate from Marine Corp bootcamp. I'm nervous about being left on my own but I'm sure everything will be fine. I do have a number for one of Imri's favourite daycare people and she will be around if I suddenly need her ... she's also leaving at the end of this week and I am going to get her a gift card and some flowers from Imri. *sigh*. She was my favourite person at the daycare which is mostly staffed with well-meaning but not terribly well-educated people. Yeah, sounds snobby but I live in redneck country so it counts for something. Yes, I worry. A lot. I'd move Imri into a more scholastically- oriented/Montessori program if we could afford it. Hopefully this time next year we will be better off.

Speaking of which, we have indeed spoken with legal representation regarding our financial situation and will be taking action as soon as we can accumulate a retainer. It bothers me on so many different levels that we need to do this but there is no choice. I'm sort of stunned, to be truthful. I know John was trying to protect me in his own fashion but ... yikes.

So there you have it. I will try and keep updating with more exciting news ...

tap tap is this thing on?

2007-08-08T14:29:00.000-04:00

Just wondering if anyone is out there ... no one comments and I know my life isn't that exciting, nor is my writing, for that matter but ... thought I'd check to see if anyone was still following the ongoing saga.

So here it is ...saw Dr High Risk yesterday and my fluid is up to 10cm! Staying off my feet (for the most part) and drinking what seems to be my body's weight in water appears to be working. Not only is my girl's head down, but her head is right on my cervix which explains the pressure I've been feeling. My cervix, however, is not budging. It is long and closed, which is how we like it. Dr High Risk looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and said "keep doing what you're doing". I love that man.

Upon seeing my OB today, I mentioned that I'm a tad stressed about not knowing an induction date and if it's possible to schedule it at all, so I at least know which way is up and can plan accordingly. The OB clucked understandingly and mentioned August 31st. I like August ... but not at the beginning of a long weekend. Hospital staffing being what it is on weekends and holidays... nah. I agreed to September 4th. Now that's still tentative but there you have it.

It's just plain weird, knowing the day your child is going to enter the world.

Now the date is only if something doesn't happen previously to that - so I'm hoping - because I'll be 37-38 weeks by then which would be excellent for the baby's growth and development. And the OB says she sees no reason for me to be in the hospital for 24 hours prior as per the other OB - I'll just go off the blood thinners 48 hours previous to and show up on the induction date. It's all good.

Here's hoping we get there.

Sleep would be lovely ...

2007-08-05T02:23:00.000-04:00

It's 2:24 am and here I am. Yep, insomnia strikes. Actually, it might not be insomnia so much as an inability to deal with warmth and while many might find my house to be at the subzero level, I am warm, damnit. So I moved myself, my pillow and body pillow to the couch.

It ain't working.

My palms are warm. I hate that. Thank goodness my thighs aren't. Fat will do that.

The parental units are driving John and I a bit batty. They are understandably worried about the baby and I, and are concerned about John's plans to go to Jr's Marine Corp graduation ceremony in mid-August.

It's very important that he go. My mom doesn't get it (and that's fine) but I do. And as I've told John, we are the adults in this relationship and while the 'rents can give input, the decision is ultimately ours. I don't have a problem with John going as I know how important and life-changing this is for Jr - his dad should be there.

That being said, if we find out that week that the baby is a-coming, then ... he won't be able to go. And that will suck but that's life, unfortunately.

The bigger problem to me is how I'm going to cope with a heavy and mischevious toddler for the couple days that John is gone. John's idea is to have Imri go with him and I have nixed that - it's an 8-9 hour drive. Not to mention, John will have his mother, a bilateral amputee with him. Not to mention that he may get the phone call saying "getcher ass back here now" at any point. So no. Sure, the thought of being all by myself with no one to look after for 48+ hours is tempting but ... no.

Not to mention that I hyperventilate at the thought of my son being in a car, far far away from me. Call me ridiculous but all the bad "what-ifs" go through my brain.

So what to do? We need someone to stay with me. My best friend's (yeah, that's you Gramma Stacy)daughter is due any day now, so she's out. I've asked a friend from work if she'd mind spending a couple of nights here but she didn't seem keen and that's totally fine. There is a nurse's aide at work who might be able to do it, but I'd obviously have to pay her and money is an issue, of course.

Our neighbour might be able to help out but I don't like asking although I may have to. I'm sure John's crazy sister in law would do it but ... she's crazy. So no. It sucks not having my family close by. Truly.

I don't make friends easily so ... I don't have a lot of friend options. Which also sucks. Sometimes I wish I were more of a friend-gatherer ...but it's just not who I am. I don't know how to teach that to my kids, either ... which saddens me. It's my hope that they are born naturally a lot less socially awkward than I am.

It's just John and I, for the most part. And most of the time, that's just fine with me. But the bigger part of having a large circle of friends, family and whatever social/religious outlet you belong to, is coming home to roost right now.

Not sure what we're going to do, especially if I get put on complete bed rest.

And counting some more ...

2007-08-01T08:02:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was the first biophysical profile for our baby girl. I arrived at Dr High Risk's office raring to go and anxious to see her - it's been a month, after all. Yes, I am terribly spoiled.

More than anything, I was hoping against hope that she had turned from her breech position. I called the OB's office yesterday because of the constant hard stomach/BH contractions and extreme pressure that I was feeling and they basically told me that it was nothing and to call them if it got worse. But ... I had a feeling that something wasn't quite right. Or perhaps that the baby had turned. But something was different. Sure, you can call me an alarmist but I don't really call the OB's office unless I feel that something is truly off.

The very pleasant sonographer and I are chit-chatting away - funny how infertility and treatment just seems to pop up during conversations at a perinatologist's office - sharing stories and just chatting ... and there she was! Vertex! (head down, for those not in the know). I was delighted and got all misty-eyed, of course. But the sonographer's face told me something wasn't quite right.

For those who don't remember (and why should you?), my son was born after induction because of oligohydramnios, or low amniotic fluid. My fluid level was measured at 6cm and it's my understanding that the low range is 5-8. Imri was 37 weeks gestation, so considered term and doing practice breathing in utero and the boy, whom my OB had warned me was "chubby" the previous week, turned out to weigh 7lbs, 1oz. He did absolutely fine, and while we came very close to a c-section, we managed to avoid it.

Well, it turns out that my fluid is currently at 8cm. A month ago it was 13.9cm. Not wonderful at all. And because of that, we're delighted that the baby girl has turned because it's getting to be close quarters in there. And that, my friends, is the reason for all the contractions. Low fluid. So I wasn't out to lunch in calling my OB's office ...

To add to it, we're not really close to term yet. I'll be 33 weeks this Thursday and while my daughter is weighing in at roughly 4lbs, which is great (if inaccurate, most likely) for a very short NICU stay, I am not ready for her to join us yet. She needs more womb time. Yes, she's a decent size and she was doing some practice breathing in utero but ... she's still preemie and I don't want her to be born prematurely.

And, I'm just not ready.

Dr High Risk sort of read me the riot act. He wants me off my feet - ideally, he wants me out of work completely. We can't do that, financially. Things are very touch and go that way. I'd already cut back to 32 hours a week, so now it looks like 20 to 26 hours if I can get work to cooperate. And what that means is basically not doing nursing care. Dr HR has said no up and down stuff, he wants me as horizontal as possible. And drinking at least 3L a day. Ick. At least my cervix is long and closed.

So, they have agreed to let me do paperwork but it's for the time being, really. Everyone is being very kind but ... we are owned by a corporation now, so I never know what will come down from on high. And I will have to change my hours which will be awful for morning rush hour. *sigh*.

So today, my day off - Imri is at daycare. I'm going to miss my Wednesdays with him - I do already. I waved at him as he rode off with his Daddy and my heart was in my throat.

And it bothers me on a profound level that the last nearly 2 years that have been so very life-changing for me, the 2 years in which we've spent so much time together just Imri and I ... well, he won't even remember them. Sure, they're formative, etc etc and they have imprinted ... but he won't remember all our special times together that are so very precious and in my heart. Our first "lunch" together. Etc etc. Soon, once the baby comes ... he won't remember it being any other way.

Why does that upset me so? But it does.

So there you have it. Low fluid. No money. Have to cut back on work. No money. Have to take the best care of the baby girl as possible. Deal with hormones. No money. Have to rest rest rest. So much on John's shoulders. Yes, I worry. A lot.

Now to go buy that winning lottery ticket ...

32 weeks and counting ... contractions

2007-07-25T06:50:00.001-04:00

I spent the better part of Monday afternoon/evening in L&D after spending the better part of Monday afternoon contracting while at work. And crying. Yeah, I knew that at nearly 32 weeks we are probably in the relative clear, but still ...

All is well with the baby, thank the heavens - no one is sure what happened and by the time I got to the hospital and got on the monitors, most of the contractions had stopped. The only thing I can correlate is that in the hospital, I was lying and resting, something I can't really do at work. We don't want me to go on bedrest as that will precipitate (greater) financial crisis, so ... we'll see what happens.

I can't say enough about the great nursing care I got at the hospital - it's the same hospital where Imri was born and I thought the care then was great too. It's nice to see and to be able to say.

The Braxton-Hicks I'm having are nearly constant and they are driving me up the wall. It's truly uncomfortable although much better than the real thing. It's just difficult to relax when your belly is always tight and hard. Ick.

Anyway, I have an OB appointment today, so I will be asking them a lot of questions as to what I can and can't physically do, as well as my platelet level (which as far as I know, is still hovering around 100,000), possible induction and if so, dates ... and what to do about my adorable daughter, who at last count is still breech.

Yeah.

Imri continues to thrive and grow. He really is a sweet boy and his imagination is showing beautifully ... he asked me this morning for a waffle and for me to slice it into "sailboats". Took me a moment to realize he meant for me to cut it into triangles. He is talking in full sentences and while some of it is toddlerese, most of it is completely understandable.

We are working on his penchant for hitting his mother. While I do realize (because I've read the same research you have)that this is most likely because I am the person he is connected to the most, it still annoys the heck out of me, not to mention that it hurts. And I'm hormonal enough to take it personally.
What I've done is start cheering whenever he touches "gently" or "makes shane" (Yiddish). It seems to be working right now, as he loves to hear "hurray".

He remains fascinated by all things mechanized, including Thomas the Tank Engine, tractors, trucks (particularly garbage trucks) of all kinds, cars, bicycles, motorcycles ... you get the drift. Our collection of trains, planes and automobiles continues to grow hugely.

We have started talking to him about the baby and he sort of gets that there's a baby in mommy's tummy. He insists that it will go live with Tim and Patty who live across the street - hey, maybe he gets it more than I think he does ...

That's it in a nutshell. I will try and keep the Internets posted as to further developments.

Imri, showing off his "sailboat".

Under the T for TMI

2007-07-11T13:38:00.001-04:00

We've been sick. Well, actually, it started with Imri - we took him to the town fair last Tuesday. That night he started vomiting. And vomiting. And vomiting. It was awful, especially since he cried and cried when vomiting ... it's so hard on little ones who just don't understand. He kept crying and looking at me with that "why, mommy??" look. Needless to say by the time morning came round, we were all exhausted and I was out of clean nightgowns to wear.
The scariest part of illness is holding your baby in your arms and he just lies there, listless and lethargic. I took him to the doctor who was pretty concerned about his weight loss as he hadn't been able to hold down anything, including water - he had lost 5% of his body weight. The doctor basically said - fluids, one tsp at a time or he'll end up in the ER. Fortunately for us, Imri decided that popsicles were a good thing just at the right time.Whew.

He's just starting to get back his complete appetite now although he's been fine since Friday or so. We were concerned that he had gotten food poisoning from the fair, but it didn't act like classic food poisoning ... something that was confirmed when at work on Monday, I became quite sick. By the time I got home Monday, I felt like death warmed over and later that night I vomited too. I don't think I've thrown up in over 15 years, seriously.

So it seems to be a virus and a nasty one, too. Nothing else, just nausea and vomiting and feeling awful but at nearly 30 weeks preggers? It's not fun. I can't even imagine how awful my sweet boy must have felt.

Missing all this work has put a serious damper on our already strained finances and I'm not sure what we're going to do. We're looking at our options and may need to speak with a lawyer.It's pretty bad. I'd just rather do it now than have to deal with the phone calls when I have a newborn to care for. John doesn't seem to get this but then, he is a procrastinator.

I just hope I feel a lot better tomorrow because I have to go back in to work. No real other choices there.

In the good news department - I passed my 3 hour glucose tolerance test! Holy smokes! I never would have believed it. Platelets are holding steady around 100,000 so no worries yet. Onward and upward.

At the fair - a very happy boy.

Nearly 29 weeks gone

2007-07-03T16:19:00.000-04:00

I failed my repeat one hour glucose tolerance test. By one point. One measly point.

More importantly, they tested my red blood count because of my feeling of exhaustion and guess what? My platelets are hovering around 95,000. Normal is usually somewhere around 200,000. So, this could explain my exhaustion ... and is probably due to the Lovenox (blood thinner) that I'm on.

Off I trotted today to have my 3 hour glucose tolerance test. As before, it was just loads of fun - fasting overnight, and 3.5 hours stuck in a cramped waiting room, with four blood draws. They also drew my platelet repeat. Thank goodness the phlebotomist was excellent.

Then I had to boogie to my perinatologist's office a mere 25 miles away - in 30 minutes. After a stop at the nearby fast food joint, I was starving! Fortunately, 270 was clear and I drove like a ~~maniac~~ pregnant hormonal woman the whole way there, so I got there on time and as a bonus, got my favourite sonographer too.

Baby girl is measuring on target, which is great - it means that even if I do have GD, it hasn't affected her yet. She weighs about 2lbs 13 ounces and is perfect! The sonographer measured my amniotic fluid which was 13.4, also excellent. As of my next visit at the end of July, I will start weekly biophysical exams which is like a non-stress test. The baby has to score at least 8 to pass, from what I understand.

I spoke with Dr High Risk who was pleased with the baby's progress. He is a touch concerned about the platelets but says he isn't going to worry unless they drop below 90,000 at which point I will probably go on steroids. Won't that make me a joy to be around? I've been on prednisone before and promptly became the Wicked Bitch of the East. But I'm not worrying about that, there's no point.
His biggest concern was for me because low platelets *could* mean no epidural ... but again, I'm not going to stress over it right now. So much can happen between now and then.
He also reassured me dryly that while I may have only failed my OB's GD markers by 1 point (I scored 136, cutoff was 135), I would have failed his by 6 points as his cutoff is 130. I think he was trying to make me feel better ...

Oh, and the baby, who was nicely turned head down last time, is now breech. The sonographer reassured me that there's nothing to worry about and that there's plenty of time but ... ack.

But, amidst all that ... came this ...

Isn't she beautiful?? Just for orientation sake, she is looking to your visual right, her lips and chin are middle-bottom slightly to the right.

I think she's gorgeous. And that she looks like her brother ...

A tale of idiots and incompetence ... or ... how you need to be a good self-advocate

2007-06-27T19:30:00.000-04:00

I woke up today and knew it was going to be a long day. I had to do the repeat of my fasting 1 hour glucose tolerance test as well as other bloodwork and then I needed to get my Rhogam shot. What I didn't know was how long my day was going to be, nor how filled with unnecessary frustration and sheer incompetence.

Some background: I have a fairly rare blood type. I am O negative but I have something called a "weak D". That means that sometimes, my blood type shows up as O positive, even though I am negative. This especially happens if I've had Rhogam recently. For all intensive purposes, it doesn't affect me unless 1) I am donating blood or 2) I am preggers.

Since John carpools, I knew I'd have to take Imri to daycare which is 20 minutes away, then return to town to do my 1 hr (all while fasting), then go to my OB's to pick up my slip for the Rhogam shot (I'm Rh negative), then drive to the hospital near where I work for yet more blood work and an injection. Lovely.

(And to top it off, I'm the one that had to call the OB and ask for the Rhogam, they had completely missed it at my 27 week appointment. And they argued with me about it, too, telling me I was O positive - which as I've explained, I'm not)

So I did. I got Imri's stuff together and took him to daycare, wistfully watching him wolf down raisin bread and milk all the while, then went to the lab and drank the nasty disgusting drink and sat there for an hour, had blood work done. Then got in the car, drove to the OBs, got the paperwork. Stopped and got something to eat (finally!!!!) and drove the 35 minutes to the hospital near where I work, as my OBs office doesn't give the shots and the hometown hospital doesn't do it outpatient either.

I get there at 10:30 and they go to register me and turns out they need pre-auth. And my doc's office should have taken care of it but now we need to call them and get it all done. So I wait. And wait. And wait. Finally they take me back, register me and draw my second set of blood today. It's now 11:30. They tell me it can take an hour or two, so why don't I go get some lunch?

Great idea. I drive to the nearby Safeway, pick up Janet Evanovich's latest paperback, get a sandwich and some cherries (1.99 a lb!) and head back. It's around 12:15. I eat my sandwich, snack on cherries and enjoy my book. Time passes. I check on status and nothing happening. It's 1:30. I wait till 2:15 and go and ask again. By now I've finished the book, my sandwich and a great manyl of the cherries. I want to get my shot and go home, spend time with my sweet boy - our Wednesdays are special to me. The guy behind the desk tells me someone will be right with me.

At 2:30 a woman comes out of the bloodbank and tells me that I am O positive and that I need to talk to my doctor's office because I don't need the shot.
I look at her incredulously and explain to her that she is mistaken - I was diagnosed Rh negative back in the 90s after an ectopic pregnancy and there is no doubt about it. I also explained to her about the weak D. She says that I am showing a strong positive and I tell her that I've had Rhogam recently - once when I was in the ER with bleeding and once after amnio. She looks at me askance "you had Rhogam? It's not showing up". I pull the little cards out of my wallet and show her.
She turns and goes back into the lab.

She returns 10 minutes later and tells me to call my doctor's office as I don't need this shot, she spoke to someone I have never heard of before and that's what they told her. I patiently ask the woman which office she spoke to, as I go to the one in my hometown and I'd like to speak with the same person that the woman spoke to.

She begrudgingly gives me the number and acts as if it's a big deal and I am being a pain. She then demands the doctor's order (which is where they drew the blood, so I don't have it) and sends a flunky to run and get it.
I call the number and realize it's not my office so they don't know me, even though they have electronic charting. But I ask for the person the blood bank woman spoke to and this person, whom I've never met starts telling me with a superior tone how I don't need this shot.

I interrupt her, as it's now been over 5 hours at the hospital - I'm tired, I'm cranky, I'm hormonal and I've had enough. I tell her my story and how I know what I need and would she please talk to a doctor. She puts me on hold and eventually comes back to the phone and tells me the doctor ok'd the shot. The person behind the desk (not a bloodbank person) takes the message and passes it on.

15 minutes later the same bloodbank woman comes back. This time she points to the number of my hometown office and tells me to call it as there is no need for my shot, and to speak with Sara. By now I am livid. I go over my information with her again and tell her that I'm an RN. But two doctor's orders aren't enough for her. And to top it off, she waves at everyone as her day is over, she's leaving. It's now 3pm. I've been at the hospital since 10:30.

I go over to the phone, furious. I call and get Sara, who is a nurse, I think. She starts to tell me that there's been a mistake and I don't need the Rhogam - I interrupt her point blank and tell her straight out - there is NO mistake. I AM Rh negative. This HAS happened before. They have the proof in my chart from when I had my big bleed at 11 weeks - they have a copy of the bloodwork from the hospital ... etc etc. The same things I've been telling people for hours, it seems. Everyone one else in the waiting room had now heard my entire medical history - and have come after me and left before me ...

She listens - actually listens - and says she needs to speak with my OB. Thank heaven the big man himself is there. She puts me on hold and I wait. And wait. And wait. And wait and finally Dr S himself comes on the line "what's up, K|nneret?".

I give him the short version and he asks to speak with the supervisor - of course, I'm on the outside phone, not the hospital phone so they can't transfer the call and it takes forever to get the supervisor to the phone. While I'm waiting, I hear him talking to someone else who is pointing out how I am O positive in some bloodwork ... and then I hear him say .. "but look - here she is negative!".

HALLELUYAH!! Someone in that office can READ!!!!

Then I hear a stern tone in his voice ... "who marked this chart as O positive???".

Finally, the supervisor came to the phone, spoke with my OB for a couple of minutes. Then he turned to me and softly apologized, saying that they were following protocol, that my blood type is extremely rare and that they will have my shot for me very quickly. I was so overwrought that I burst into sobs. He promises that my chart will be flagged from now on ...

I left the hospital at 3:40. Over 6 hours after I got there.

I knew I was right - I am an educated consumer AND an RN ... but no one wanted to listen. So - the moral of the story is "speak up!! No one will advocate for you but you".

Oh! And when I finally got my shot?? The nurse got blood all over my pants. Just insult to injury ...

And then I came home ... and all is better.

Literally speaking

2007-06-13T09:38:00.001-04:00

I looked at the ticker I use on my infertility bulletin board today ... 99 days left in this pregnancy. Considering I only went to 37 weeks with Imri - I probably don't even have that long. Holy smokes. We really need to get cracking on fixing up Jr's room and turning it into Imri's room. I'm thinking a train theme. Mebbe.

Have I mentioned that Jr is currently enjoying week 3 or 4 on Parris Island, doing Marine Boot Camp? Hopefully it helps him realize his potential and increase his self esteem and self confidence. He needs those things desperately.

I remain grumpy and hormonal these days and hence I was looking forward to spending a couple of hours at a girlfriend's jewelery party this past weekend. I often have Imri with me when I go, so it was up to John to watch him this weekend when I went out.

Now understand - I rarely go anywhere myself. I don't have a lot of friends in the area, so this was a treat for me - John wanted me to take Imri "so the girls could see how big and cute he was" (right, I didn't fall for that) and I ended up putting Imri down for a nap around 12. I was looking forward to some fun girl time!

I told John "Imri may wake up crying because he didn't eat much breakfast, but that usually means that he's hungry - there are fishsticks or meatballs, he likes both. There are veggies and he always wants fruit" John nodded and off I went, cell phone at the ready, in case of emergency.

I got home around 3:30 and found John and Imri sitting on the couch, eating raisins. Everyone seemed happy - John told me how they had just come in from outdoors and were having a snack, and Imri had slept for about 2 hours. Great! Right?

Well, as we sat there, John says "Oh yeah. And he didn't wake up crying so I didn't give him anything to eat."

I did a double take. And I said .... WHAT? He repeated himself. I said ... so he hasn't had lunch? "Well, you said he'd probably wake up crying ... and he didn't. And he said he wasn't hungry (he always does)- so I figured he was fine!"

I shook my head in disbelief. John then told me that he had a loose poopy diaper too ... to which I asked ... and you're giving him RAISINS????? (this recently happened and we talked about how you shouldn't really give dried fruit to someone with diarrhea). John got peevish with me and told me that he was merely following instructions.

So I guess that based on John's logic, John himself should only eat lunch if he's crying from hunger, huh?? I mean, if he's only going to feed Imri if he's crying from hunger ... sounds right, no?

Sure enough, I sat Imri in his booster and gave him cheese, hummus and crackers which he wolfed down in record time and he had a huge dinner a couple of hours later.

And John still doesn't get it. Even last night he was claiming "I was merely doing as instructed". I said "hey ... I didn't say 'only feed him if he's crying'. I said 'he may be crying when he wakes ...'." Speak about literal interpretations!

From what I understand, this is not an unusual theme in the grand scheme of men taking care of their children and I don't get it. Especially as John raised his own son from a relatively young age ... but then, he lived with his mother and I'm sure she helped out a lot.

It's just curious to me.

Imri's been sick the last couple of days and not sleeping well at night and I am going to get my hair cut late this afternoon. A much-needed and well-deserved break - John is returning a touch early from work so I can go. And because Imri has been sick and whiny, I am looking forward to some alone time.

I'm assuming that I don't need to tell John to feed Imri dinner. Stay tuned.

You can probably hear me whining from across the Internet

2007-05-20T08:55:00.000-04:00

I am grumpy. Not sure if it's hormones, lack of sleep or whatever, but I've been in a crappy mood for a large part of the last week. Some of it has to do with work, which has gotten even more stupid than I thought possible, some of it has to do with John, and some of it has to do with ... well ... hormones and lack of sleep.

Yeah, I'm not sleeping well, mostly because of hip pain. That and getting up with Imri every night. While there are nights that he sleeps through, they are rare. He is usually up once a night, often twice. While it doesn't take long to get him to soothe back, usually (and sometimes he'll do it on his own), I invariably find myself up at some point between 1 and 3 am. John doesn't seem to hear him. Strange, that. Last night after two awakenings between 11:30 and 12, I told him the next one was his - he was grumpy about it ...grrrrrrr. He got the 3 am one ... after I woke and told him about it.

Not that it mattered because I toss and turn throughout the night with the hip pain, so I wasn't sleeping deeply anyway. I'm tempted to take Benadryl and sleep but it usually just makes me feel drugged, not sleepy.

Oh, and I passed my gestational diabetes test! Cut off was 130 and I squeaked by at 127. Although I did have coffee that morning with a 1/2 tsp of sugar and they still marked it as "fasting". Whatever. The OB's nurse already told me that I'll be re-tested at 28 weeks. Joy.

And the swelling has started a bit - burritos are little salt bombs, it seems, so the morning apres burrito, my fingers and toes were feeling tight and my rings were stuck on. Better than it was with Imri when it started at 16 weeks. I'm at 22.5 weeks now. I better start cutting back on the salt, damn it. Did I mention my cravings for caesar salad?

I also went to the OBs last week for some pretty significant shortness of breath but all my vitals came back normal - they sent me for bloodwork which I ... oops, haven't done yet. Hard to find time, really. I had the choice on Wednesday of dropping Imri off at daycare and doing the bloodwork or spending the day with my son. Guess which I chose?

Our washing machine stopped spinning so we called Sears who told us that our 2.5 year old machine was off warranty, tough titties and that it would cost 65 bucks just for the repair person to come out, never mind look at the machine and please buy the extended year warranty for 200 dollars. Oh, and we won't be able to come out for 2 weeks. So sorry, not really, so what if you have a toddler who needs clean clothes.
When the repair person did come out, turned out that our machine needed a major rebuild to the tune of 399 dollars. Only one hundred dollars more and Sears would have had to give us a new machine.
Right.
Last time I buy a Kenmore. Seriously.

Also, let it be known to those who play golf: if you leave your pregnant spouse with your toddler and go off to play golf for 6-7 hours, please be advised that one of the first things you should do upon your return home is ask your spouse if they need a break, just in case they need to do something like change their pants after a coughing fit at the park stretched the limits of their put-upon bladder. The other option, of eating cake and watching TV while your tired, wet and pregnant spouse struggles to put a toddler to bed, just isn't wise.

I'm just saying.

I am so sorry. Honestly.

2007-05-06T20:49:00.000-04:00

I didn't mean to panic everyone. My bad. It's just so busy around here and I've been so damned tired. I mean really. And the hip pain doesn't do wonders for my sleep either.

Let me think back ... we had a great time in Canada, except for me getting sick with John and Imri's cold - they were fine by then. So of course, I felt like crap the entire time and couldn't take anything. Joy. Didn't really go anywhere either because it was cold and I felt awful. Nonetheless, it was great to be with family ... and to tell them about Number Two. My siblings were blown away!

March and April have just been busy - so much to do around the house and so little money to do it with, not to mention that I can't do much so I watch Imri while DH whittles away at the "to do" list. Nothing seems to be easy, you know?

Amnio went well, as much as could be expected. Oh yes, and I tested positive for MTHFR ... what can I say?I'm just lucky that everything went well with Imri's pregnancy in that regard. So, I'm on Lovenox twice daily, 2000mcg of Folic Acid, 100mg of B6 and 250mcg of B12 as well as my prenate. Delightful, especially as I have to take them at night with much water, which means I invariably get up to pee ...

All the amnio results are back and everything is fine! I am so happy about that, particularly the spina bifida test, because of the MTHFR. Whew.

Imri is wonderful. Truly wonderful - he is getting so big and is really turning into a little boy now. His 18 month visit put him at 30lbs and 34 inches and he's had a growth spurt since then. He is still eating well, particularly "watermany" (watermelon), his favourite. His language skills continue to blow us away (being the doting parents that we are) and I am starting to add in Hebrew words now. He runs more than he walks and loves the outdoors. He also loves Thomas the train and is delighted with youtube as there are many many episodes online there. Particularly "big onry!! big onry!!" or "Big Strong Henry" to those who know of such things.

He is a very sweet-tempered child and I feel very lucky. I'm hoping that this new addition isn't the complete opposite of him ... yikes.

Here are some pics from this weekend of Imri and dad ... we found a toy lawn mower at a nearby flea market - Imri wouldn't let it go from the moment he laid eyes on it. At least 50 people commented on how cute he was and how he could come over and do their lawn any day ...

So that's my update. I'm now halfway there, at 20+ weeks. Or, considering my history, past the halfway mark most likely. Level II ultrasound is this week and I hope I'll be able to post some pics. I actually went out and did some baby shopping this past week.

Oh and did I forget to mention?

We're having a girl.

How much happier and luckier can one woman be?

Walking out the door ...

2007-03-31T05:57:00.000-04:00

We are off to Canada for Passover! As my homocysteine levels are low as are my Protein S levels, I am now on Lovenox twice daily. Oh joy. We are waiting for the MTHFR results.

But we are off to Canada! See you when we get back. Happy Passover!

An update on both my kids

2007-03-24T11:38:00.000-04:00

There is so much to say and so little time to write it down. I promised myself that instead of napping when Imri went down, I would post a quick update. Not just because of you, the Internets, but also because this has become my "baby book" of sorts, the only one I have ever started. I wish I was as organized at home as I am at work. Ah well.

Imri update first ... Imri, as has been mentioned before, is obsessed with cars, trucks, trains, anything mechanized and that goes "vroom vroom". Up until this week, he has always said "big cah!!!!" BIG BIG CAH!!!" whenever a truck went by. This week, we were outdoors (he LOVES the outdoors)and he pointed to the neighbour's truck and excitedly said "big KUK!!!! BIG KUK!!!!" Quite loudly, too. It's even more interesting when he does it on the changing table ...

It's pretty funny and I have gotten some strange looks from people, but ... hey, he's a toddler. Besides, pronunciation isn't everything.

I was on the phone the other day, and when I got off, Imri turned to me with hands up, as if shrugging and said "I don't know!! I don't know!!" He slurs it, but it's pretty clear that's what he's saying, probably repeating something I said. He also said "I see cah!" about a car he saw in a book. I'm so blown away. Sentences?? This early? Holy crap. He gets "bird" and "bread" mixed up and points to the bread and says "teet teet"!! (tweet tweet). How cute is that?

And in the "gone and I'm sad" category: No more "mama" and "dada". It's "mommy" and "daddy" now ... *sniff sniff*. He even corrected me the other day when I referred to myself as mama ..."nnnoooooooo!! mammeee!". Also gone are any clothes that are 18 months or less. Yowza. I have to go out and buy my boy a whole new wardrobe in 2T/24 months. He is such a bruiser.

Did I mention the beginning of "no","mine" and "I do"?? Ah, the joy.

Imri has also taken to lying in his crib now when he awakes from naps and talking to himself. It's pretty entertaining and a nice change from the immediate crying that used to commence on waking. *sigh*. He's getting so big, so fast.

As for #2, I saw Dr High Risk this week for yet another scan. Baby is measuring right on target. Dr HR pointed out some placenta previa that remains around the lip of the cervix and noted what at first he thought was separated membranes (bad) but then decided was a clot on the placenta (bad, but not AS bad). He sent me for a bunch of clotting factor bloodwork which isn't back yet. I'm still spotting/bleeding but nothing heavy, just enough to need a pad all the time. So, staying on light duty for now - he encouraged staying at home, but we just can't afford that - and continue to monitor.
Did I mention that Fedex, those morons, lost my nuchal translucency bloodwork?? So they poked me again while I was there. Jeez.

I see the OB this week and next week, after we get back from Canada, I go in for another scan. So far, no one has said that I can't go to Canada although J had been pressuring me to stay home. I don't want to stay home. I miss my family, I never get to see them and it's not like we're going to Guatemala ... (no offense to any Guatemalans out there)but the healthcare system in Canada is excellent and we do have insurance. Unless Dr HR says "absolutely not", I'm going. Which means I'm really hoping that the bloodwork comes back negative for clotting issues. 14 weeks and counting.

J is painting the kitchen this weekend and I am trying to take it easy and clean the house at the same time.

Wish us both luck ...

I took my son out to lunch today ...

2007-03-14T16:01:00.000-04:00

Yes I did. We went out to get some stuff at the nearest Targez and then inspiration struck ... why not go somewhere to eat rather than the crap they have at the store restaurant??

There is a nearby diner that we go to, so off he and I went. And it was amazing. From the first moment onward, we had a blast. I ordered a Greek salad for me and chicken nuggets and fries for him ... his came with milk or chocolate milk, so I opted for the later, which he had never had. The waitress offered to empty his water-filled sippy and fill it with chocolate milk. I wish I had a camera to capture the widening of his eyes as he sucked back on that cup ... too amazing.

Everything is new, everything special when you're seventeen months old. Yes, seventeen months old. Wow.

He tried a little of everything, but his main fascination was with the Kalamata olives in my salad. I thought he was saying "owie" but no, it was his version of "olive". He blows my mind ... I think we've had olives once and he remembered. He chowed down on those olives till the waitress went and brought us a whole big container-full, some are in my fridge right now. Yes, I tipped her very nicely. Imri had her completely charmed.

Imri ate the following things for lunch: crackers, a little matza ball soup, a couple of carrots from said soup, cuccumbers from my salad, feta from my salad, some of the chicken tenders and a couple fries, and large quantities of olives. His diaper should be a treat later.

But the best part was spending time with him; talking, playing with stuff on the table (he was fascinated by the sugar package holder and filled and emptied it multiple times), laughing together, learning new words, eating different things and talking about everything ... just being with him and having fun. Yeah, I'm hormonal now and sappy always, but I had tears of joy in my eyes.

Imri, you are such a delight and a joy. Yeah, it sounds like bragging but it's not just how whip-smart you are, nor your "here I am, love me!" presentation to the world - you are just one special boy, in every way.

I love you more than I can say, and I just don't have the words to explain how wonderful you are, so I'm stopping now. You amaze me, 'nuff said.

And a small update on #2 ... I have both a decent sized fibroid and a subchorionic hematoma, both which may have caused the bleed. I am officially on light duty at work and Dr High Risk wants to see me next week again. The spotting continues, as well.

Onwards we go.

More than you asked for ...

2007-03-12T10:17:00.000-04:00

Let me reassure my friends in the computer - the nuchal scan was great. Dr High Risk walked in, took my hand in both of his and said warmly: "It's so good to see you again!".

I'm not kidding. I love that man.

Anyway, nuchal measurement was 1.4 which he said was average and "in this case, we love average". Bloodwork was taken, everything looked great and we should have final results including odds and risks of various trisomies by the end of this week.

Which fast-forwards us to this weekend. Gorgeous weather, finally. Imri's loving it - walking and running outside, going for rides in his "car". He is talking a mile a minute and while we're not sure about the meaning of some things ie "capee" which seems to be said at any number of occasions, "ABC!" and "wise kwipies" and "big big big big BIG cah!!!!" are prevalent.

I had Imri out on our backyard swings - he was loving it, laughing out loud and enjoying the weather. John was working on the house, tearing down yet another bit of rotted wood. And I had to go pee. At least it felt that way. Hey, don't be like that - those of you who've either had children or have worked long hours in an ICU - or both - know what it's like. Before you can do anything, you feel a little trickle ... oops. Pantyliners work well. Only ... it wouldn't stop. And my bladder didn't feel that full.
I looked around, making sure no nosy neighbours were peeking and checked. Blood. Lots of it. I called out to J, panicked. He sounded annoyed. In fairness, he gets so little time to do stuff that needs to get done, and he was getting a cold AND his back wasn't good ... but I called out again and told him I was bleeding heavily. He came quickly and got Imri, we went into the house, me gushing blood as I walked. I called the OB.

30 minutes later we were in the ER - putting in an IV and drawing bloodwork. My nurse brain noted that colour of the tubes ... CBC, chem panel, clotting factors, type, cross and screen. Yeah. I think I'm forgetting one. But enough to make me realize that they were taking this seriously. I informed them of my Rh negative status and that it doesn't always show up on bloodwork - I have something called a "weak D" and my blood type can show as O positive sometimes (erroneously). And yes, I was focusing on everything but the life I was sure was draining out of me. How else do you cope with something like that??

I kept bleeding, although less so when not standing or walking. Imri was being his sunshiny toddler self and wanting to explore everything. J was cranky and not feeling well, and worried about me and not coping well with aforementioned toddler. All I could think was "damn. I wish I lived closer to my family. They'd be here in a heartbeat ..."

Speaking of which, the u/s tech came in and scanned me. At first the baby was very still and my heart dropped. The tech said "don't worry, there's the heartbeat - 164!" I burst into tears, of course. It seems that I have a fibroid which is quite large and there seems to be a pool of blood around it, as per the technician. Also, part of my placenta is low, which caused the earlier bleeding so it may have been causing this too.

But the heartbeat was there and the baby started dancing for us - J was in the waiting room with Imri, so he still hasn't seen this baby. But the tech brought me a copy of the pic afterwards as her bedside printer hadn't been working.

And then ... I had to wait for the Rhogam shot. And wait. And wait. And wait ... I spent more time waiting for that shot than actually being treated. Ah well. The staff were great. And we hit the McDonalds afterwards because I hadn't eaten all day and Imri kept saying "eat" "eat". Yeah, chicken mcnuggetz and fries. I'm going to hell, aren't I?

I've been put on bedrest for 24 hours, hence me sitting home here alone with enough time to update y'all. I see the OB this afternoon and hopefully all will be well. I'm hoping to get a note for light duty for work, as pushing 200+ lb people on stretchers isn't my idea of taking it easy.

So there you have it. I'll taking "boring remainder of pregnancy" for $400 please, Alex.

PS - thank you for the kind comments on my last post. I really appreciate your understanding and compassion.

Fears

2007-02-25T17:03:00.000-05:00

Nothing seems to sit right in my stomach and there is constant pressure around my sternum/epigastric area. I swallow Pepc|d - not huge amounts but enough and it doesn't do much. Ick. It's just a yucky feeling and I wish it would go away. It's messing with my intentions of staying relatively svelte for this pregnancy. I read my early typings from my pregnancy with Imri and I had gained 8 lbs by week 5 or so. I was nauseated constantly then and the only thing that made it better was carbs. Mostly.

That trap has been mostly avoided this pregnancy as I haven't been nauseous morning, day and night but when it hits, it's terrible. I've gained about 2 lbs by week 10 which is a great improvement but I wasn't skinny to start with. Gestational diabetes is not the way I want to go again and so far my sugars have been good (I check at work sometimes) but then they weren't terrible last time. Have I mentioned craving spicy food?

Ick.

So yeah, 10+ weeks. Nuchal is next week. My belly is definitely distended and things are fitting differently.

And I am terrified. Seriously frightened of being a mom to two children. Seriously frightened of loving one more than the other, resenting one for "intruding" or taking away time from the other, frightened of barely being able to manage my time now - what the hell will I do with two??? Not to mention the money woes which seem to be compounding ...

I had truly grown content with Imri, happy with just one and ...voila. Here we are. It will sound absolutely terrible, and go ahead and flame me but a teeny tiny itsy bitsy part of me has this horrible hope that we will find something terribly wrong at the nuchal. Does that make me a monster of some sort? It probably does.

Maybe it's hormones, maybe it is. I don't know. I can't post these thoughts on my infertility bulletin board without people thinking I'm an ungrateful wretch and perhaps I am. I've always thought I'd be a better mom to one than to two ...

We go to Canada for Passover - once again, we will announce to the family during my favourite of holidays. I am looking forward to that and seeing my father's face. Sure he knows already, but I can't wait to see the joy shining through. And that makes me smile. Even through the nausea.

Under the letter D

2007-02-18T08:10:00.000-05:00

I'm not the best blogger, that's for sure. In fact, I'm feeling pretty inadequate about a whole host of things. The knowledge that this is likely hormonal helps for about 5 seconds before I get bowled over with another wave of hormones. I laugh for no reason, cry for no real reason. I'm craving spicy foods - heck, I was dipping bread in the leftover Buffalo wing sauce the other day. I've started feeling nauseated to a tremendous degree over the last few days and that, coupled with the crippling fatigue has me feeling pretty useless around the home.

John has been doing extra duty with laundry and stuff - cooking has become non-existent and prepared foods have become standard (other than the kickass chili I made for Superbowl. Did I mention that?? Kickass, I tell you!.)Yuck. I just want to nap where I can and John has indulged me, to the most part. So I'm left feeling inadequate and as if I'm not pulling my fair share of the load. Which is fine, ultimately. I am pregnant, after all - and this is normal. I could deal with it but for the "dada" thing.

Everything has become "dada". Late at night when Imri wakes and I come stumbling in, I hear "dada". We go downstairs and I hear "dada". I sing songs about Imri and mommy and he looks at me impatiently and says "dada", waiting for me to sing about Imri and daddy. I feed him in his highchair and he asks "dada?", wondering where he's gone. I'm carrying him, with him snuggled into my shoulder - a sweet moment - and suddenly the word "dada" fills my ear. And so on ...

I know it's normal. I know it will pass. I'm actually delighted that he feels close to his father and that they are so bonded - and that John is wonderful with him.

But the hormones have their feelers in me and I just want to scream sometimes "Can't you ask for me???????? I birthed you, nursed you, cared for you when your father was too nervous to do much because you were so small ... I am still your primary caregiver ... can't you ask for MAMA?????"

Eventually the alien that is inside Ripley will calm down and things will improve but as for right now I'm just a emotional mess.

Imri is as cute as ever, if not more so. He still adores his fruits and vegetables almost more than anything else. I gave him some dessert (a rare occurence) of chocolate brownie the other day and he kept asking for more ... like mother, like son. He has started taking great pleasure in "hiding" from us. His language continues to explode and he is growing like a weed. We got him new shoes the other day and I doubt they will fit much longer. Most of his 18 month pjs are just fitting, not the loose-fitting big things from the beginning of the winter.

I'm not ungrateful. At all. I just wish the word "mama" would fall a little more often. And that the hormones would chill the hell out already. Yeesh.

Nuchal is March 8th. Hmmph.

Sorry 'bout that

2007-02-11T07:16:00.000-05:00

I meant to update on Wednesday after my OB visit but time just seems to run away from me these days. Thanks for the emails!

All is well in alleged babyland. I saw the heartbeat ticking away ... I measured a little small but within normal limits. Again, I saw the nurse practitioner/midwife whose sono skills aren't wonderful, so I'm not too worried about it. She is very pleasant - and she listened. It was interesting - she went through my history and asked me questions that I KNOW I had eben asked last time but for some reason weren't in my chart ... I know they are there now.

Spotting continues, but it's definitely old blood. I was told to "take it easy" and rest. Needless to say, I laughed uproariously and nodded. I mean, really. I have a nearly 30 lb toddler and I'm an RN. Gimme a break. Should I mention the nausea?

I'm also scheduled to see Dr High Risk in early March for the nuchal. Assuming we get that far, that is. Early March????What am I supposed to do between now and then? Assume all is well? Arghh.
Amnio is scheduled for the week of Passover, but I will change that because I can't take all that time off - we are supposedly going to Toronto for the holiday. But the list of reasons for a visit to DHR has grown since last time. Not only am I "AMA" or "advanced maternal age" and hypothyroid, but I had an Xray in early gestation, had GD last time, had oligohydroamnios (low amniotic fluid) ... shall I go on? *sigh*. I really am trying to enjoy this but so far it ain't easy. I'm way too much of a worry-wort.

Work is being nice to me, so far. My nurse manager has been understanding and even giving me lighter assignments - I have not asked for that - and I went to our center director and asked if it was possible to do an "advance" while I was out on maternity leave, ie 50% of earnings with a committment to pay it back over so long. I told her I'm willing to sign a contract or whatever is needful. She was relieved I was planning on coming back to work ... I tell ya - I wouldn't if there was a way to stay home and earn money. Not really something that a nurse can do. But she said she'd bring it to the doctors and see what they said. I figure the worst thing they can say is "no". No harm done.

Imri is utterly delicious these days. He turned to me this morning, palms up and said "whe dada?" He had used "whe" (where) before and "dada" is an ongoing intonation, but it was the first time he had put them together as a sentence. He is into everything and his vocab is exploding. He repeats everything and delights in the look on our faces. He has "TU!!!" hands and feet ... and noses, it seems.

Four premolars are making themselves known and Imri is a facucet of drool, but a charming one. Sleep has been erratic, predictably, but last night he pretty much slept from 8:30 to 6:30 this morning, with one brief awakening. I am not foolish enough to think that tomorrow will bring us more of the same but it's a good thing even in small amounts.

We told my parents the other night. They are beyond excited and are insisting on purchasing the next crib for us. Mom laughed when I mentioned a toddler bed for Imri ... "believe me, you want him in a crib as long as possible". She's had four kids, I think she might know of what she speaks.

No finger foods for you ...

2007-02-02T13:07:00.000-05:00

You know, I had plans for some serious finger food cooking for this Superbowl Sunday. I think it's on hold, however...

When I was nursing Imri late last night, I noticed the smell of old blood. As a nurse, it's one of the odours you *always* recognize, it's not something you can forget ...

Sure enough, this morning I noticed some old (brownish) blood stains on my underwear ... paid no mind to it. I got to work, went to the bathroom and there was bright red blood. A fair amount of it, too - enough for me to get a pad. So I called the OB, a bit shaken. Top it off with some cramping and I was fit to be tied.

The OB's office told me to come in this morning - I called John and he sounded so upset - it really moved me deeply that he actually sounded upset that this pg was in danger, with all the stress that this has put on us and everything. In a way, his response made me feel better.

I had to tell work about the pregnancy, of course. I really didn't want to but I didn't see any choice, seeing how I had to leave ... ah well. Everyone was extrememly supportive, which was nice, including my nurse manager - who looked as shocked as we did when we found out about this pregnancy.

I steeled myself for the inevitable, no heartbeat or the like, I really did. But ... the bean had other ideas! There it was, heartbeat ticking away - maybe 160-170s and measuring around 6w5d ... with the nurse practitioner's admission that she isn't a great sonographer, so that measurement could be off a bit too (I'm 7w1d today) ... and by this point, the blood was more burgundy than red.

I may have a subchorionic hematoma and they definitely want to see me for my scheduled appt on Wednesday, so we may have more answers at that stage. I am to rest and take it easy all weekend and I'm not allowed to lift Imri (yikes).

But .... WHEW!!!!!! My little bean is still there and ticking away madly. Houston, we have a heartbeat! John sounded pleased that all was well and that lifted my heart too.

Jr is here this weekend too, so I am going to lay low and keep my stress down. Hah.

I will keep the Internets posted with whatever happens this Wednesday but so far so good.

As for the Superbowl munchies? Let them eat cake ... now off to bed with me.

An infertile baby boom?

2007-01-28T10:40:00.000-05:00

I'm actually kind of blown away. Without a lot of spare time on my hands, I don't usually get opportunities to read the blogs on my list here - but I finally got a chance to catch up today and I was pleasantly shocked and surprised to see a bunch of positive pregnancy tests in the Infertile Blogosphere!

I am SO hopeful for Thalia, Bugsy,Frances,Bugs and Olivia ! A virtual possible babyboom in our virtual midst ... if I calculate right ...

Silly me. I was going to say "we should all be due around the same time!".

Don't worry. I knocked wood. As if it would be that simple ...

It reminds me of a posting on our infertile bulletin board "my coworker isn't pregnant ... she's 'having a baby!!'. " And it's sadly true - the fertile world doesn't understand (lucky them) that "pregnant" doesn't equal "baby" for all of us. Which explains my erstwhile ambivalence to this alleged pregnancy, I suppose.

When pregnant with Imri, by this stage the morning sickness was full blast. Ick. Not to mention the sore boobs, cramping, etc. This pregnancy? No sickness, really. No sore boobs - yeah, a tad veiny but not sore unless Imri is sucking on em. I seem to still be lactating a little, which I thought would stop during pregnancy. The cramping and pangs I get tend to worry more than reassure me.

And the fact of the matter is - we are seriously screwed financially with this pregnancy - no maternity leave and boatloads of debt - we are not sure how we are going to make it through. People who say "you'll find a way" are kind and offering comfort, but unless they have a couple of spare mortgage payments to throw our way, I don't think they grasp the enormity of it all. It's pretty serious.

And termination? That's not really an option now, is it? I am fiercely pro-choice but how in the world would I ever live with myself? How could I do that and wonder if it was another child as amazing and wondrous as Imri?

J and I make decent livings - it's just old debt that has us in the hole - we *should* be able to provide easily and we can't and it's killing me.

I need to start playing the lottery. Oh yes I do. Right now it's the only way out that I see. But helpful suggestions are always welcome.

I just wish I could be more ... joyous.

Yet another update

2007-01-25T19:14:00.000-05:00

I had an ultrasound yesterday - I saw the Nurse Practitioner, who by her own admission told me that she wasn't great with the sono machine. I had figured that by my calculation, I was 5 weeks, 6 days and we probably wouldn't see a heartbeat anyway. IF we were lucky enough to see a normally developed embryo ...

Imri was with me and was rather perplexed at the goings-on but he sat on my stomach as the NP gently inserted the wand and we saw ...

An intrauterine, well developed yolk sac and the beginnings of a fetal pole, all measuring exactly 5 weeks, 6 days old.

Imri was quite excited and kept jumping up and down on my belly, which didn't make the viewing any easier but - it looked good.

They want me back in two weeks for another sonogram - hell, I feel like I'm at my old RE's office. And I'm not complaining. I'm starting prenatal vitamins again. And blessedly, so far no serious morning sickness, just a little queasiness.

May I say yet again ... wow.

As to other things, Imri is doing well. He got out of his sleep routine recently after a couple wonderful weeks of normal sleep and we're not sure why. We're blaming teething premolars and yet another cold. A few miserable nights but we are improving slowly and last night he only woke once. Given, that was for an hour, but better that than every hour. That has happened far too often.

He also had his 15 month appointment yesterday and is in the 90th percentile for height and weight. My boy weighs a bouncing 28 lbs, 8 oz. No wonder my darned back hurts.

Imri's vocabulary is growing by leaps and bounds and his favourite words are "car" and "golfball". Yes, boys and girls - he learned "golf" and "ball" and put them together. Of course, he doesn't differentiate between a golfball and any other kind of ball, or a golfball and a golfclub, for that matter. But boy, does he get excited at the sight of a golfball. I had foolishly purchased a Pooh Bear golf set some time ago ... a favourite toy now, it seems. And Daddy aids and abets this, of course.

The only thing I try and ~~brainwash~~train him to say is "Montreal Canadiens"

Under the B for beta ...

2007-01-17T08:41:00.000-05:00

I called the OB's office anxiously when I hadn't heard anything by three o'clock ... the very nice nurse said "Oh yes, the doctor just hasn't seen it yet but it did go up". And I asked for numbers, of course.

The first beta (14dpo or so) was 93.
The second beta (18 dpo or so) is ...

551

Yowza.

I am not naive enough to think that we are smooth-sailing from here but I'd say doubling definitely occurred. I'm waiting for a phone call from the doctor to discuss our next step. Considering that I am 41, had a tough pregnancy last time, complicated with GD and a dance on the outskirts of HELLP ... I just want to make sure we're ok.

Did I mention that the OB who did the u/s the other day was the notorious Dr Shitty?And that she was really nice? Empathetic, even? Wow. Maybe I just caught her on a bad day that once. Hey, if a subfertile, hypothyroid-and-other-autoimmune-issues-41 year old woman, with one blocked tube and who had almost NO sex for an entire month, can get pregnant without trying, anything is possible. I wouldn't be the first Jewish woman to get pregnant under seemingly miraculous circumstances ...

And now ... we wait (and an update)

2007-01-12T19:53:00.000-05:00

Got my bloodwork results. My progesterone was 21.1, which is great. My HCG? It's 93.

With my last miscarriage, my first beta was 83. With Imri it was 264.

I just don't have a great feeling about this pregnancy. Call it a gut feeling. Top that off with the knowledge that my next beta is tomorrow but I won't get results till Tuesday - well, you may as well stick me with a fork.

And J is so stressed over finances ... *sigh*.

But I do know that there is proof that I am indeed, pregnant. I sent J to his eye doctor appointment this morning. Upon arrival, he found out that it was, in fact, scheduled for Friday. NEXT Friday. Prego brain strikes early, my friends.

So there you have it. We wait.

Update
I was reading through Imri's sleep journal and found a reference to AF coming on December 14th - so this is indeed very early on. A beta of 93 isn't terrible in that case. I couldn't get my second beta on Saturday and since I won't get results till Tuesday anyway, I'll get it done tomorrow (Monday).

Let the waiting recommence. And thank you all for your comments and supportive emails. I still don't quite believe this yet.

Where do I begin?

2007-01-10T18:46:00.000-05:00

Imri's sleep has improved dramatically. It's like a switch got flipped about a week or so ago and he has taken to sleeping MUCH better. He still awakens 1-3 times a night but is easily settled with some water. It's all the more remarkable considering he is teething premolars and has had a miserable cold. The humidifier in his room has helped - I think the white noise also has some soothing qualities there. Changing him during the night also seems to help, or putting a overnight diaper on him. I'm just glad we stuck to our guns and didn't do CIO.

Imri's naps during the day have improved as well - from 20 minute power naps to naps lasting anywhere from 45 minutes to 2 hours! Yowza. It's rather amazing. And while I am still tired, I am not exhausted constantly and my marriage has improved.

Speaking of which, the other day I noticed some spotting. That in conjunction with the pelvic pain I've been having and plain old stomach tenderness made me nod in realization ... the bitch was back. It was an assumption, as I really have stopped tracking my cycles, I put on a pad and went on my merry way. That night there wasn't much there but I dutifully put on a pad the next day as well, as the spotting continued.

Today? Nothing. Zip. Weirdness. So I posted to my fellow infertiles on our bulletin board and they immediately asked if I had POASed. Of course not, I replied! We haven't been trying. Besides, I didn't think I had any FREDs in the house. I finally did find one that had expired some six months ago and took it right into the bathroom, laughing at myself for even thinking what I was thinking. I mean - J and I haven't been very intimate at all of late - it's hard to do when you're in sleep training hell - and I couldn't even remember the date of my last period. Not to mention I wasn't using first morning urine ...

Imagine my shock and surprise as a second line appeared nearly instantly. Faint, but definitely there.

I figured it was wrong. It's out of date and heck, there's just no way. So I unhurriedly got myself and Imri together and wandered over to the Wall of Marts, where I purchased the Cle@r Blue HPTs, you know, the ones that actually say "pregnant" or "not pregnant". When those first came out, a stab of envy went through me that I'd never get to use them - silly, but hey - such is the life of the infertile. I was still laughing at myself as I plopped them into the cart - after all, there was no way - I was being self-indulgent.

Got home, got settled, got the FRED out of the bag ... it was mid-afternoon. Off I went to the bathroom and peed dutifully, watching the little hourglass churn away.

Holy crap.

I'm pregnant.

I am going into the OB tomorrow morning as the pelvic pain is slightly worrisome and they want to make sure it's in utero. Also, it would be nice to know when I'm due, if I ever get that far. And to top it off, I had Xrays done last week - I laughed at the "tell us if you think you may be pregnant" sign. As if.

John and I are both stunned. I've given away everything "infant" that I had ... and I have no maternity leave coverage as I let that drop. Money is very very tight. I broke it to him gently, expecting him to be quite upset, but he is not. Worried, more than anything.

But I'm pregnant.

Overwhelmed, happy and terrified don't even begin to describe the way I'm feeling. I had become content with the thought of only one child, my sweet Imri. After all, how could I ask for more? Certainly, there is no better. Yes, I was content. And now the thought of two under two fills me with fear. I'm sure the happiness will follow very very soon.

Holy shit.

I'm pregnant.

My "firstborn" 1993-2006

2006-12-26T20:01:00.000-05:00

Rest in peace, good and oldest friend. I love you so much and miss you terribly. You were the best cat in the whole world. I'm just sorry I wasn't a better mommy to you this past year - but you were very loved. Always. There is a hole in my heart now that you're gone. You will never be forgotten.

Stay Awake ...

2006-12-24T09:25:00.000-05:00

Last night Mary Poppins was on TV. We don't normally let Imri watch much TV but Mary Poppins? Please - it's a wondrous thing and he seemed to enjoy the musical cartoon parts of it. Those are the best parts, anyway. But he does seem to have taken Mary Poppins lullabye to the children to heart. You know, the one she sings when they insist they aren't going to go to sleep?

Stay awake, don't rest your head
Don't lie down upon your bed
While the moon drifts in the skies
Stay awake, don't close your eyes

Though the world is fast asleep
Though your pillow's soft and deep
You're not sleepy as you seem
Stay awake, don't nod and dream
Stay awake, don't nod and dream

We're still in the trenches regarding Imri's sleeping habits. We are not taking him out of the crib any longer, no more night time feedings, no more co-sleeping, he gets water when he cries ... it's been a few weeks now and he is still waking anywhere between 2-7 times a night. He got to a point where he'd go down around 8 and sleep till 11:30 -12ish - that has gone out the window too now, with an early waking around 9:30. It used to be 10:30, now it's 9:30. On the bright side, he *is* taking two full naps at daycare now - usually an hour each. That is new - he has never napped that way in the past but it may have something to do with the new sleeping pattern at home combined with some changes in where he sleeps at daycare.

I'm truly not sure what to do anymore. He's given us one or two nights where he has only woken once or twice and I thought I had reached Nirvana, but those are rare - and I do the majority of sleep patrol duty. It's effing hard as hell when you're working full time. It's even harder when the man you love decides to stay home the one night he did extra sleep patrol just because he can. And you come home after 10 hours on your feet and ask "what's for dinner" and nothing has been taken out, no housework has happened and your beloved spouse answers "nothing" to the question of "what did you do all day?".

I'm having trouble staying awake while driving home and that is bad, my friends.

This is my approximate schedule:

"rise" to Imri's hungry cry around 4:30-4:45. Nurse and try and put him back down for more sleep. It works sometimes, sometimes it doesn't.

shower if I can. I have taken to showering with a small boy staring at me, surrounded by books and toys in the bathroom.Dress.Change small boy and dress him.

Fix his lunch/snack if I didn't do it the night before. Make my breakfast, coffee, etc. Run everything out to the vehicle and start it up while he is in his highchair, working on a bottle/raisin bread.

Leave between 6-6:10.

Arrive at daycare around 6:30. Get him settled, etc.

Arrive at work around 7:30. Work - usually the longest and busiest room, on my feet, pushing heavy stretchers, etc etc etc whine whine moan complain till 4:30 - sometimes till 5 if we are really short staffed. Or if I have to pick up Imri, then I leave around 4.

Get in the car and battle I-270. Struggle to stay awake and drive safely amongst the many assholes that pollute that road. Get home anywhere between 45 minutes to 2 hours later (yeah, Thanksgiving was a bitch), so around 5:30 - 6.

Walk in the door to a boy's beautiful smile. John hasn't taken anything out for dinner, fed the boy nor changed a diaper. I do all of those things over the next hour or so, which brings us to 7ish. Then John and I eat. Imri usually jonzes for food from our plates. Yeah, I'd love to do a sit-down family dinner every night but I'm just thankful for getting food on my plate and sitting down in front of the TV at this point. Wolf down food so I get time to play with Imri.

8ish - Imri wants boob - but there's not much there anymore so it's upstairs for stories, bottle, boob and bed. Once he's down, I quickly get into pjs and make his lunch. To bed betweeen 8:30 and 9:30, with great hopes that usually evaporate with the first cries ... and up throughout the night - 9:30, 1:30, 2:30, 3:30, 4:30 ...and sometimes in between.

So I'm pretty much going from 5am to 9pm. And then from 9:30pm to 4:30am.

I'm exhausted. And I really don't know what to do to change things.

But, nonetheless, I wish you all a belated Happy Hanukkah, a Merry Xmas and a very happy, joyous, and - restful - New Year.

I really do need to find the time

2006-12-07T07:01:00.000-05:00

and update you nice folks on the goings-on in our lives. It's been hard to find time with going back to work fulltime and a melange of other things - holiday stuff, some tough times between John and I, going to Canada to visit, you know - the usual crap.

The biggest news to pass on is of course, Imri-related. He is officially a toddler!! He took his first steps the day after his first birthday and about 2-3 weeks later there was no looking back. It's been wonderful, truly. His language is also flourishing now, he uses identifiable words; boo for book, ca for car, tuh for truck, baba for bottle and something only mom understands that means "raisin bread". He understands a heck of a lot more than he says and I am constantly amazed by the things he does understand. Holy crap. I've really started censoring my liberal use of the F bomb and have been on John's case to curb his Marine language but so far, not much change there!
Imri also has a whole slew of animal sounds. He babbles all the time. He has taken to shaking his head 'no' when asked if he wants something in particular to eat - and he eats well. Last pedi visit he weighed in at 26 lbs, 8 oz at 13+ months old.

He can also take a room apart faster than a platoon of Marines. Oh, and you should see him hitting golf balls with the plastic golf clubs - once he hits the ball, he drops the club and starts to clap and laugh, all pleased with himself. As he should be!

In other words - lots of work, but blissful work. He adores his books still and although he often requests us to read to him, he has also started flipping through books on his own and making "words" as if reading. It's pretty funny and amazing at the same time. His fascination with all things mechanized continues to grow; cars, trucks, buses, vacuums - he adores them all.

Right now he is working on his premolars - we thought he had an ear infection behind one of his tubes but a visit to the ENT showed otherwise - glad the pedi was wrong on that account. So the low grade fever is probably teething related - and he has a cold and congestion. Par for the course, I guess.

Do I sound as happy as I am? I hope so - it's been a tough balancing act but we're making it work. I get Wednesdays off, so we always have a day off together and that day is precious to me. I try and get us outside (he loves the outdoors) but with the cold weather, it's not always possible. And there ain't a lot to do with small kids around here (that I'm aware of, anyway) so we go shopping or to the mall, etc. I wish we were closer to DC - museums, music, that kind of stuff ... but oh well.

We are in the midst of "sleep training" here. Imri's sleep had gotten so bad, he was waking every 1.5 hours or so and I was crazy with fatigue. I called a stop to it one night when I had enough and just decided "no more picking him out of the crib". We've been working on that for a week now and things are improving slowly - it's been rough. Long time readers know that I will not do CIO, so we have stayed in the room with him when he's been upset/crying, we go in and soothe him a bit but no picking up, no more coming to bed with mommy. We offer a bottle with water, but no more boob other than when I nurse him to sleep. We actually are starting to get "some" sleep around here. And by "some", I mean that a couple of nights have had uninterrupted stretches of, oh .... 2-4 hours. Slowly, my friends. It will get better. But we're doing it our way - the way we deem best for Imri. He is not a CIO kid and we are not CIO parents.

In other news, my stepson dropped out of college as he was failing his classes. Gotta say that I saw this coming from a mile away - 12+ hours a day online and no homework getting done, no studying and tons of attitude. And yes, we made him pay back every cent of tuition as per our agreement - he wasn't happy about that. He also decided to move in with his mother on his 18th birthday, which is probably the wrong choice for him but it's his choice and that's all there is to it. Hey, there are no rules there whatsoever, no chores and no demands for him to do something - anything - and get off the couch. He also managed to nearly sever his right ring finger while making french fries at his fast food job while here and luckily, a good surgeon saved it and it has reattached well. Oy. John and I tried to make the point about finding more fulfilling and less dangerous (and better-paying) work but it fell on deaf ears. Ah well. We were all 18 once. We have truly done our best for him - hopefully he will clue in one day when he becomes human again. He claims that he will go back to school when at his mother's - but I told him to stop kidding himself and us - if he didn't do it while here, with full support and tuition paid, why would he do it there, when he will have to foot the entire bill, no support, etc? Yeah.

Anyway, it's out of our hands now and if we can just get Imri to sleep more, the stress level here will be reduced tremendously.

So there you have it. Hanukkah is around the corner and I am excited - I bought a bunch of holiday-themed books off Ebay and way too many presents for my boy. Ah well! Hopefully he will like latkes and sufganiyot as much as his mother does!

Oh yeah, speaking of that - I rejoined weight watchers. It was time. 8.6 down so far and 25 more to go. Ouch.

I'll try and stay in touch, I promise.

Firsts

2006-10-21T08:20:00.000-04:00

I know that somewhere in the world, there are one year old babies that sleep through the night. I know there are. None of them live in my house. I'm just saying.

It's been hard, especially with the knowledge that I am returning to full-time work come November. I had really hoped that Imri would settle out but no dice. Top that off with tremendous teething - my poor boy had 4 teeth come in at once and still more spawning - and that other enormous milestone ... first steps!!!! I'm sure those of you who are seasoned moms are nodding at the realization of how little sleep I am actually getting these days.

I wish I had a pic or two of the momentous event to show you, but it was unexpected and is sporadic. Imri is still a fervent advocate of the full-tilt crawl, preferably in the opposite direction of where I am headed. We went to the Targez yesterday and he insisted on crawling down the aisles. Yeah. I ~~was oblivious~~ ignored the dirty looks of soon-to-be mamas and the transparency of their "I would never let my child do that" thoughts and the dirty looks of wanna-be-drive-by mamas. Maybe having John with me helped keep that to a minimum. Which makes me wonder why when a baby is crawling next to his daddy in a busy store said daddy and baby get indulgent smiles but when the same scenario occurs with the mommy, all she gets are dirty looks?

That other momentous event, Imri's first birthday came and went with much fanfare and happiness. As you can see, John survived my wrath after returning home from golfing at 14:45 when Imri's party was supposed to start at 15:00. Yeah. My best friend S, the sister of my heart, came charging to the rescue with much help and calming vibes because I was jumping out of my skin by the time she arrived. It's just so darned difficult to run errands with a baby, especially when said baby hardly slept the night before.

But it was a great time and Imri sort of clued in that things were for him when we came to the gift-opening. At least I think he did - he seemed to understand that these were toys and books for him and he got excited - it was pretty cool, actually.

He loved the cake - I honestly can't say enough about C0stc0 cakes - but by then it was pretty loud - lots of people with lots of kids, all hepped up on sugar - the urge for me to yell "everyone ... SHUT UP!!!" was great but I kept it together. Mostly. S may have issue with my togetherness in general.

The other sweet thing about the party is that Imri's gramma came. John's mom has very poor health and it means a great deal to us that she made the trip - and Imri settled comfortably in her lap as she read to him.

In fact, so much so that he fell asleep in her arms, much to her delight - and mine, because I actually got to eat a meal without a small person screeching for me to share. Imri's become quite the chow-hound, boys and girls.

He is fascinated with cars, trucks, trains, cats and books, in no particular order. Therefore it was only fitting that we got him a car - and he is utterly delighted by it. Not only is it red, it has a "convertible" top and a push bar, so we can take him in it through the neighbourhood. It rocks and he loves it!

I also took him for his first "professional" pics in honour of his first birthday and they did a decent job. I didn't realize that they weren't digital until afterwards or I would have probably gone elsewhere. Not to mention the snarky attitude of the "photographer" and I use that term lightly. But I will share because a couple of them are quite good, a testament to Imri's extreme cuteness and not the "photog", and because the picture folk (a national chain) haven't realized that you can indeed right click and save if you use Firefox.

They actually asked my permission to put the Halloween one in the book they use to ensnare ...er... entice hapless other parents. I agreed, of course. I'm a sucker for showing off my boy.

We are also going up to Toronto for my cousin's batmitzvah. I convinced John to fly this time as we got excellent fares via S0uthworst and we will once again be renting a vehicle. This time, however, we are bringing our own car seat and not renting from Budget, the car shmucks. Even though I did receive yet another letter, this time from the office of the president of Budget, apologizing once again and promising to change their website. And I just surfed on over and ... they did!!!! Holy crap. I quote ...

"Due to liability issues, Budget personnel are not permitted to install child safety seats into vehicles for customers. However, upon request, Budget will provide an instruction sheet or booklet on the proper installation of the child safety seat. Other questions regarding installation should be addressed directly with the rental location."

Wow.
The power of an angry mother in action, come to fruition. I am utterly blown away. Who knew?

Anyway, we still won't be renting from them.

I had so much to say here, most of it erudite and profound, but it has all escaped my small and fatigued brain. Not to mention how my beloved John finds it very necessary to read me each and every article that he finds interesting online and on paper while I am trying to write/read/do anything that gives me five minutes to myself on the computer. I love the man, he just doesn't understand that I honestly don't give a rat's ass about some picture of Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus. I just don't. May the golf gods strike me down. Nor am I interested in hearing about anything that GWB has to say anymore. It's just too darned depressing for words.

Instead, I will leave you with a nice autumn pic of my sweet boy. Consider yourselves lucky.

My nearly birthday boy

2006-09-30T07:21:00.000-04:00

My sweet Imri,

I know, I've been negligent in writing my "letters" to you. So often I promise myself that I will sit down and write and life is so full and busy with you that time slips away. Besides, I'd rather be with you than write about you.

You are now 11.5 months old. I sent out invitations to your birthday party this past week and I can't believe it - a year. How quickly it has flown by, my beloved boy - what sweetness and joy you've brought into my life. It's somehow fitting that right now we are in the "Days of Awe", the ten days between the Jewish New Year and Yom Kippur - because while different in concept, I am in awe of you and the person you are becoming.

Last year, my induction was begun on Yom Kippur. I hoped you would not be born on that day - Yom Kippur is a solemn day of prayer and fasting - I wanted your birth to be a day of joy. You obliged me by holding out for 30+ hours of labour, finally arriving on October 14th at 13:47. According to the Jewish Calendar, your birthday should be this Tuesday and as one of our few remaining full days together, I intend on celebrating it quietly, just you and me.

Yes, I'm going back to work full time starting in November, gorgeous boy. It hurts so much to know that I will be missing so much of your development. I wish there was some way I could do otherwise but we really can't. I know I am luckier than many in having a great part of this first year with you but that makes it even harder in many ways. You are such a special child and I want you to get the nurturing that will enable you to blossom - I am not at all convinced that daycare is the place for that.

You are doing so much these days - you stood by yourself the other day! Stood and balanced for several long seconds - wonderful to behold! It won't be long before you're walking and wreaking havoc on everything around you. You absorb everything we tell you - you try so very hard to say words but "graaa" seems to be one of your multi-descriptor words these days. You do say "caaaa" for car and "gruuuh" for truck. You try and say "banana" and "phone" and pretty much everything we teach you and you remember most of those words when asked later. You point to a ball, a cup, a bottle, a chair when asked to. When I ask you to say "mommy" you meow and look very proud of yourself. The smile on your face when you see your daddy is brilliant.

You love food! Definitely something you inherited from mommy, sweet boy. You will try pretty much everything I put in front of you and you jonz for most things daddy and I eat. We call you the Shnorer, yiddish for moocher. Pizza (crusts), raisin bread, chicken, any and every fruit, most veggies. You think water is the beverage of champions and you aren't really happy that mommy is trying to get you to take formula in a sippy cup.

Books seem to be your absolutely favourite toy and that delights both your father and I to no end. Cars and anything with wheels come a close second. You love music and rock at the slightest refrain - you seem to really love when mommy sings, despite the lack of pitch. Watching music videos with mommy on youtube seems to be a favourite pastime. You are so much more mobile now, able to get on and off toys like your firetruck and rocking horse. Your walker is close to being obsolete - I know it's a matter of time before you take off at a run.

Everything is exciting to you. You love sitting or standing on the grass and watching the leaves fall. You've become fascinated with the outdoors and love going on your swing and even sliding down the slide. It's a big boy slide so I hold you but you still love it. I know you're just waiting to run across the lawn one day soon - I can imagine you diving into a pile of leaves and laughing out loud in glee.

You still don't like sleeping much, sweetheart and most of that is because mommy still nurses you at night, I think. Yet I hesitate to wean you completely because that sweet closeness we share is so very precious to me. That may be selfish of me, but I know it's also good for you. So we end up sharing mommy and daddy's bed at night and mommy doesn't get a lot of sleep (daddy stays on the couch)... but I know you are happy and secure in my arms and that matters a great deal in my book. You will wean one day - before I know it these sweet days will be over and you will be a big boy. You are already losing some of that "baby" look and it saddens and gladdens me at the same time.

You now have three teeth with three more perched and ready for entry. I've given you Motrin and Tylenol a few nights, mostly because I figured you had to be sore, not because you complained or cried. You are such a happy child. Even people who see you in a store comment on how happy you are - you attract people with your winsome smiles and sweet nature. It's really quite astonishing.

I am taking you for professional pictures on Tuesday and I really hope they go well. It's unfortunate that Daddy won't be able to come because I'd love a family picture but that will have to wait for another time. But I hope we get a good shot of you smiling that sweet smile of yours ... because I can never have enough pictures of the person you are, the person you are becoming.

I love you so much, Imri, my big boy. Don't grow up too fast, ok? I want to hold on to my baby for just a little while longer. And happy birthday, motek sheli. Ima ohevet otcha im kol halev.

Inviting in the hurt

2006-09-24T18:58:00.000-04:00

I had mentioned a number of times to my mother how much it would mean to me that my parents come for Imri's first birthday. And it does - after so long, after so much heartache ... I want to be surrounded by friends and family. Nothing big, nothing outrageous. I'm not renting ponies, or hiring clowns. I figured on cake, ice cream and maybe some chips and dip. Soda, wine, you know. The basics. I figured on a few close friends, John's mother (and siblings, if they want to come which likely they won't), us and my parents.

I mentioned it a few weeks ago and then again a couple of times. I heard about the length of the drive and suggested that modern contraption, an airplane. After all, they were going to fly me (with Imri) to Toronto for Rosh Hashana, so they money is there. I mentioned flying S0uthwest out of Buffalo and heard "the border is awful and we need a car". I offered one of our cars and got hemmed and hawed at. I heard about a trip to Montreal for a barmitzvah, theatre tickets for Stratford and mostly "maybe" so I figured on "no".
I spoke to my husband today about it and suggested that maybe we go to Canada instead, so that I could be amongst family for what I perceive as a relatively big event and not put out my parents who are, after all, in their seventies. Relative being the term - again, I'm not going bananas here, just wanted a feeling of family around me.

So I broached the topic with my mother when they called this evening to wish us a Shana Tova. And I was shot down flat. That I shouldn't bother over something that small - that I should do as they did once and just keep it family only. I said that I was thinking of coming on the weekend of my birthday and we could celebrate the birthdays together and was told to "save it for something special" and how they just found out there was a batmitzvah in the family in early November and to think about that.

Yeah. So call me selfish if you wish, call me ridiculously self-serving to want my son's grandparents at his side for his first birthday. Call me stupid for opening myself up to my mother's rejection again. Call me stupid for wanting to pretend that our family is closer than we actually are. Call me stupid for noticing how my mom and dad seem to visit my brother's son fairly often but how they haven't mentioned anything about not seeing any pictures of Imri lately. Lately as in 3-4 weeks when I would send them regularly. Yeah, I'm so damned selfish, it hurts.

I will make a nice birthday for Imri. A small one. I will invite a couple of people and George's family. Maybe I'll send my parents an invitation. Maybe I won't. It doesn't seem to matter to them at all anyway. I won't make that mistake again.

Shana Tova U'Metuka 5767

2006-09-22T19:51:00.000-04:00

A sweet and happy New Year to everyone. May this New Year bring us all happiness, joy and peace. A lasting and workable peace for this entire world.

May your names be inscribed in the Book of Life.

Amen.

Wish I were more eloquent but ... hey, it's the sentiment that counts.

Curiouser and curiouser ...

2006-09-10T16:37:00.000-04:00

Why do they call it a green card?? It's not. Yes, that's my way of telling you nice folks that .. it's here!! I am a legal permanent resident of the USA. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, boys and girls. I tell you, strange things are afoot at the Circle K.

One of the strangest things I've ever encountered in my life - and I've been around several blocks multiple times - is looking into my son's face and seeing my own features reflected back at me. Particularly the eyes ...

When we found out we were having a son, we had the inevitable question of "oh, didn't you want a girl??" and the other strange and perplexing questions that people ask you when you're pregnant. One of my stock answers, other than "I just want a healthy baby" became "I want a little boy with his daddy's eyes.". Because in truth, John has gorgeous eyes. Deep-set and ocean-blue, they are witness to the flame that burns inside him and give echo to his inner - as well as more superficial - beauty.

When Imri was born, it appeared that indeed, I had been given a boy with his daddy's eyes and I delighted in that. Imri seemed to be John in miniature with nary a shade of his mother in him. But now that he is growing older and becoming his own self, I see that his eyes are becoming reflections of mine, the whole upper structure of his face is taking on a masculine hue of his mother.

It is startling and humbling and wonderful and eerie and if it was possible to love him even more for it, I do. Rightly or wrongly, I do. I hold him high above me and gaze into that curiously familiar face - and we both smile big. And more than likely, we laugh.

Can you taste the bitter?

2006-09-08T20:57:00.000-04:00

It's Friday night and I'm sitting here at the computer. I could - rather, should, be in bed because I get so little sleep anymore that I really do try and take advantage of Imri's every sleeping moment. But I also want to have a life, you know? I mean, John sleeps downstairs on the couch most nights, I work and take care of Imri and that's about all - what life do I have outside of kirche, kuche and kinder? Well, not much kirche, either. At all, actually.

And not much kuche either, sadly. I love to cook and these days I'm lucky if I get a chance to heat up something frozen or premade. *sigh*.

It doesn't make me sad, heck no ... the kinder part makes up for all of it and then some - but I am tired - extraordinarily so, and wouldn't mind some time off. Not necessarily time off from Imri, but just some vacation time. Which brings me to this weekend.

You see, John has his annual golf tournament and this year it's in Atlantic City. He and Imri and I were all set to go, only Jr has class on Saturday. We live in the sticks, ergo no bus service on the weekend. We thought we had it worked out, with Jr's buddy coming over and serving partially as chauffeur, when Jr started acting like an ass. Yeah, you could say that a nearly eighteen year old male is that by definition, but it's starting to really get old.
It's difficult to explain, suffice it to say that we have to ask for things to be done multiple times and if they aren't done within 5 minutes of asking, they are forgotten. Or if he does one thing while in the middle of another, something gets left half-finished, like taking your plate to the dishwasher after a phone call. Simple stuff, not complex crap. Things get forgotten - important things, like making sure the door to the house is closed when you leave- not locked, mind you ... closed. As in shut. Yeah.

Taking the garbage out. Not leaving underwear on the bathroom floor. Mopping up after yourself if the bathroom floor is covered with water after your shower. Not taking 45 minute showers. Calling to schedule appointments - like driving classes, for example. And so on. I know if may sound like normal teenage boy crap to some, but I'm telling you ... it is CONSTANT. Multiple times a day. And it has been constant for years now, I kid thee not. Years. I am so tired of it and of the attitude that goes with it. Strangely enough, instant messenger and video games somehow never get forgotten. Isn't that funny?

So back to the weekend - we were all set to leave tomorrow only Jr's ride fell through. John won't let him bike to work because he would have to go over busy highway on a narrow bridge (whatever, I am tired of arguing that one with an over-protective father) and Jr doesn't fight it because it's less work for him (have I mentioned the lazy part?)Also, Jr has been acting like an ass and we feel we can't trust him alone in the house. This was to be his first time alone in the house - for one day and one night and we feel it's just not smart. For all the reasons mentioned above and more.

I won't let John miss his tournament so guess who has to stay home and ~~wipe the ass~~ play chauffeur to a nearly 18 year old? Yeah, I'm pissed. This was supposed to be my vacation, the only vacation I've had this summer. One day and one night and even that would have been me and Imri doing stuff because John would have been golfing all day Saturday and Sunday. Still, I was looking forward to it and now ...grrrrr.

I told John that next weekend I want to go out to the ocean. I want to be near the water and want to relax and take it easy, sand on my feet, etc. Of course, the weather will probably suck next weekend, but cest la vie, right? John has agreed, so we may go next weekend to Rehoboth, or Ocean City. And Jr will just have to fend for himself, so sorry. If we go. Which I bet we won't. But if we do, I'm guessing he'll be taking a taxi cab or three. I'm not sure why he can't do that this weekend other than the aforementioned over-protective father.

Yeah, you can hear the bitter. Step-parenting isn't easy, especially not with an unappreciative and ungrateful kid. You get shit on a lot and hearing "oh, he'll appreciate you when he's older" doesn't alleviate the sting of working your ass off for someone and knowing the "I love yous" go to someone completely undeserving and who gets those sentiments courtesy of a biological accident and not much else.

Anyway. I feel slightly better for getting all that out and somewhat guilty for feeling that way. I know I have far too much resentment built up inside over Jr and it's not something recent but I really need to get over it. Having Imri has helped greatly but perhaps I'm just selfish enough that I never will get over it. Dunno.

And on other good news, John has told me we really could use a full time income from me and wants me to go back to work full time once Imri turns a year old. I don't know - it really is breaking my heart. I want to be a SAHM and can't - I'm working three 10 hour shifts now but get no bennies and poor vacation/sick time. My boss approached me about returning to full time after I spoke to the office manager about it (in confidence, so much for that) and I mentioned working M-F 7:30 to 3:30 which would allow me to pick Imri up around 4ish and still spend partial afternoons with him ... or I could do 4 ten hour shifts and have one day off ... which is killer but I could make it work.

But I'd miss our time together. Our special days - the days we tool around and just do stuff, go shopping, walk around. Especially now that he's getting older and more interested in the stuff that there is to do. I love being with Imri. I love seeing him grow, seeing his eyes widen with surprise and laughter as I push our shopping cart full-speed down a deserted Costc0 aisle, watching his discoveries and learning, snuggling with him at naptime, breathing in his scent as he lies in my arms, asleep (not for long and not often enough, but the sentiment remains). He is becoming himself and I am loathe to miss a moment of it and I already miss so very much.

But we need the money. I am so very torn.

I did, however, give my husband the caveat that until Imri started sleeping better, I wouldn't be doing anything full-time because I can't work 40 hour weeks in my job and function on 4-5 hours of broken sleep. No way, no how.

So there you have it, my stream of consciousness babble. And now, off to bed with me before I get absolutely no sleep at all.

Where to begin?

2006-08-26T10:29:00.000-04:00

First off let me tell you that Blogger has been very cranky. With the whole new beta program in the works, that same program has prevented me from logging on to regular Blogger. Oh joy. Hence the dearth of posts from yours truly - ok, that's an excuse and only part of the problem but I'll take it.

Where to start ... hmmm. So much has happened in the last little while. Imri is growing by leaps and bounds - he is crawling all over the place and really starting to explore everything, especially when we say "no" ... imagine that. Sleep issues have not improved. We tried CIO ... yes boys and girls, we did.
Imri went to sleep and awoke at midnight. Cried for boob. I gave him said boob and tried to soothe him back to sleep - no go. So, we let him cry. I went in after 5 minutes, 10, 15, 20 and 30 minutes and he didn't stop screaming at the top of his lungs the entire 2 hours. Snot pouring down his face, tears streaming, the whole nine yards.

After two hours, John and I had had enough. I mean - there's only so much you can listen to your child scream as if his heart is being broken - two hours is a long, long time. It took us another hour and a half to calm him down enough to get him to sleep, which brought us to 3:30 am and I needed to be up at 5 to go to work. I knew that CIO wouldn't work for this child. *shrug*

Yeah. It was not a fun day. Neither John nor I were willing to do that again so it's been back to the usual "bring him into bed" story. Only he doesn't sleep well with us either - he sleeps better when it's just me or just John in the bed but with two of us he tosses and turns all night long - which wakes him - and us- up. Not to mention the need to nurse constantly. I am a very tired person these days and I hope fervently that when he starts to walk, I'll be able to tire him into sleep by chasing him around a lot. Amen.

We also had my immigration hearing this week. It went well - they asked a bunch of questions and asked to see lots of documents, particularly Imri's birth certificate and stuff we owned jointly. Fortunately, John remembered my birthday and place of birth - I remembered his, so all was well. I was then asked if I planned on committing any number of felonies while in the USA, including espionage. Right.

The INS person told us we should be hearing good news soon, so hurray! Green card, here I come. Now if only I can have my citizenship in order for the next election, that would be wonderful ...

After the hearing, the three of us headed down to Baltimore's Inner Harbour and had an absolutely lovely time by the water. Water mellows me. It nourishes something inside my soul that allows my nice half to come out, instead of the bitch that's usually on duty. It didn't hurt that we had a nice lunch at the Cheesecake F@ctory and that Imri was his usual well-behaved self.

John was also very mellow and relaxed - immigration shit really gets you worked up, so knowing it was basically over did us both good. I kept repeating to him "I can't believe how relieved I am!!" so the whole thing had obviously gotten under my skin more that I had anticipated. We had such a nice time that we headed home, hoping for adult time while Imri slept (yeah, I hear you laughing) only for me to put my back out from the strenuous activity of sitting down. Oy. *sigh*

Jr has registered for college part time and we are all delighted. Because he left it for the last minute, he has a Saturday class which cuts into his time with the biothing who, instead of congratulating him on being in college and for being the first in her family to ever go to college and in some cases, graduate from high school, (including her stripper daughter), berated the poor boy for taking a Saturday class because it cuts into her time with him and she pays (minimal) child support, damnit. Yeah, it's all about her. Jebus give me strength. Funny how suddenly she can drive out all this way to pick him up after his class, whereas before it was too much for her ...

But onto more pleasant things - Imri is growing by leaps and bounds. He weighs nearly 25 lbs now and we call him "bruiser". He is definitely going to be an All-Star tackle one day, seeing how he delights in pouncing on the kitty. He has developed a huge appetite for table foods, rarely eating baby food anymore and demanding a taste for whatever we happen to be eating (see: Factory, Cheesecake). He is exploring his world and checking out everything that moves - or doesn't. He loves music and dances to most anything and I have been playing him everything from Echo and the Bunnymen to Ella Fitzgerald. DMB is playing now.

Speaking of music, we took our young man to Nissan Pavilion to see Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young a couple of weekends ago. I had purchased an Ergo carrier (and I recommend them to all those who love wearing their bruiser-sized babies!) and it was an opportunity to use it as the Pavilion doesn't allow strollers. Imri was wonderful and the concert was excellent - it started off a little slowly, a lot of newer material, mostly Neil Young stuff but towards the end it was old tunes time - with a very strong anti-war flavour, including interesting video and Young's song against the President's lies. For all the concepts of love, peace etc, the t-shirts still cost 35 bucks each. I guess love and peace come at a price, man.

But for me the beauty was hearing those great songs again; Wooden Ships, Judy Blue Eyes, Woodstock to name a few. Yeah, the voices are rusty with age but the harmonies are still beautiful. I saw CSNY in Toronto not long before I moved here and it was a better concert in many ways, but this one was special for so many reasons - I was with my husband and my son. Nuff said.

As I mentioned earlier, Imri is crawling and eating regular food and growing in leaps and bounds. He is talking up a storm and is learning to wave hi and goodbye. Can I begin to tell you how utterly cute that is? He has even started to say and indistinct "hi". He feeds himself and has learned to feed his mother too, delighting in placing food in my mouth. He loves fruit and veggie dip, yogurt and cheese, goldfish and Gerber puffs. He claps his hands together proudly and beams when I say "potchy potchy hentelach" (Yiddish for clapping the hands). His giggles when I say "how does a cat make" and then meow loudly make the world light up.

Imri has learned to play peekaboo, hiding his own face delights him, especially when mommy pretends she can't see him - that laughter is something I embrace with my soul. He loves climbing all over me when I hide my own face under the pillows, rewarding me with sweet drooly kisses when he finds me.
And he is in love with anything that moves - especially cars - so his besotted mother bought him a Pooh Bear firetruck that blows bubbles - which in turn blows my boy's young mind. He is amazed by those bubbles.

Oh, and Budget wrote me a huge letter of apology and refunded my entire car rental fee, something I told them was unnecessary but hey, money is money. Yeah, about $300 worth ... so there you have it. And it's a good thing too, because John was in - count em- two fender benders last week and that money will be paying for the car rental he is currently using. And no, we didn't rent it from Budget. Oh, and they are also looking into changing their website to let people know that they don't install car seats. I'm not holding my breath.

In parting, I leave you with Imri's attempt to become an All-Star tackle - he loves that cat and she puts up with his manhandling with grace. Amazing grace.

Still here

2006-08-19T10:53:00.000-04:00

Just a quick note to reassure those of you who wrote- we're still here and still a family . Yeah, the sleep thing is still ongoing - and I will post about our dismal attempt at cio at a later date - but John and I are good. Mostly ...

Marriage is damned hard work some days.

So much to tell, so much to say but not right now. I will try and post a longer update this weekend.

Thanks for caring.

Trouble in ...well, not paradise.

2006-08-08T09:53:00.000-04:00

John and I are having some issues, which has led to a decrease in posting. Suffice it to say that we have wildly disparate ideas on parenting and anger management (his, not mine) and it's taking a toll on our relationship. A heavy toll, unfortunately.

Why does it seem that so many men have trouble with the concept of marriage counseling, anyway?

The situation is definitely not being helped by Imri's terrible sleeping habits - they had been improving before he was sick but since then it's been a giant step backwards with him waking every hour sometimes and us me not getting more than 1-2 hours of sleep in a row at any one time. Having tried a bunch of other things, I am at the stage where I am about ready to let him cry ... but John won't. He tried sitting in the room with Imri the other night while he was crying and all that did was serve to piss Imri off even more. I know, I have already tried that avenue and the same thing happened - but John doesn't like to listen to anything I say, it seems. My experience counts for zippo.

I mean, wouldn't it piss you off more if you were unhappy and crying and your parent just sat there and stared at you and did nothing but say "I'm here"? "I know you're here, damnit ... now pick me up and do something with me" would be what I'd be thinking.

Anyway, life is rough and posting will likely be (even more)sporadic. But I thought I'd post a picture of a very happy boy apres popsicle sharing with mommy.

A long overdue update

2006-07-25T08:33:00.000-04:00

OOops. I've pissed off Jen. Yeah baby, come on over here. WITH your triplets. C'mon. I double dog dare ya. We'd have a blast!!! I'm not (very) scared at all.

Sorry for the long hiatus, folks - I'm delighted some of you are still here and reading. Thanks muchly.

The story sort of begun with the call "the bris is on Monday!". After much debate regarding Jr's work/driver's ed scheduling, John and I decided that it would be best if Imri came with me and we flew into Buffalo, then rented a car and drove into the GTA, or greater Toronto area. It sounded like a good plan and I figured I'd rent a car seat from the rental company and be done with it. Imri would travel as a "lap baby".

Yes, you heard right. Jr has a new job and is taking driver's ed. Finally. The lazy "please do everything for me daddy" boy has finally gotten off his tuchas. I believe it is partially because his father had me take him to the recruiting office one hot sunny Friday. And yes, I did it. I told him that he would talk to ALL of the services (all four branches were right there, beside one another) - his father particularly wanted him speaking to the Air Force (who aren't known for their hand-to-hand combat duties) - but he ended up speaking to the Marines alone. John was a Marine and Jr idolizes his dad so ... anyway, after all that it seems like he may join the Marine Reserves. Oy. The only thing holding it up is the citation that Jr got for selling cigs to a minor and while that is being taken care of (he isn't being charged, got off with a warning), the Marines are on hold.

But I digress.

Anyway, Imri and went on our way Friday, flying S0uthwest to Buffalo - the flight itself was great and Imri charmed everyone, including the pediatrician who sat beside us - oddly enough, no one else wanted to sit beside a mom and baby on a full flight. Strange how that is, huh? Oh, I remember those days ...

Trouble began when we arrived in Buffalo and went to get the rental car. Picture, if you will, a mommy and baby duo - baby in his stroller and falling asleep (thank heaven) and mom pushing an enormous suitcase with a duffel bag (filled with toys) on top, in ninety degree heat. Not fun.

Anyway, after waiting in line over 30 minutes to get our car and car seat, I was sent downstairs into the garage for pickup. At which time I was handed a car seat and a metal clip, shown my car and told by the employee that she had no idea how to install a car seat and that "Kevin", who was usually there to install the seats wasn't there today.

I did a double take and asked her politely who the hell was going to install it, then. She told me that Budget wouldn't install them anyway because of liability. I informed her that nowhere on their website did it say that 1)they wouldn't install the seats and 2)that there was a liability issue but she shrugged.

She pointed me to the rather unintelligible diagram on the carseat and left me to my own devices. In the garage of a strange city, with a getting-hungrier-by-the-moment infant, a car seat and clip and 90+ degree weather.

After about 10 minutes and some choice swearing on my part, she came back. She did try to help install it but left out the clip, so I knew it wasn't done right. I thanked her for her minimal effort and called John. He tried to explain to me, as it was a cheaper model of one of our seats but by this point, Imri was not happy and not shy about telling the world of his unhappiness. And discomfort with the heat. So I turned on the AC, and gave Imri my water bottle to play with and turned back to try and figure the damned seat out. Additionally, the straps for the seat itself were very tight and not adjustable at all, so I couldn't make them longer for Imri's chubby girth.

Imri's screaming from the stroller beside me reached record volumes and oddly, the three Budget employees continued to studiously ignore our presence. I took a look at my son and realized that he had somehow managed to open the water valve on the bottle and he was drenched. Moreover, now I had no water which which to make formula. I pulled his completely soaked self out of his stroller into my lap in the semi-cool car, and put him to the breast. Since I've stopped pumping my supply has dropped, but I hoped (and prayed) that I'd have enough to soothe his empty tummy, which I fortunately did. Imri was soon relatively content, albeit damp.

With that done and after 45 minutes of struggle and loud cursing in 90 degree+ weather, primarily directed at Budget and its powers-that-be, as well as talking to my husband long-distance on our cell phones, I finally thought I had figured it out and got the seat in, avec clip. Getting Imri into the skimpy straps was another matter but it eventually happened and we took off. I have phone calls and emails into Budget and will hopefully find time soon to write them a snail mail letter, detailing my displeasure. I will never ever rent from them again. No ifs, ands or buts.

After that drama, the events in Toronto were relatively ...uneventful other than Imri choosing to sprout his second tooth while we were there. My nephew is now on his first step towards becoming Jewish which will culminate with my SIL's conversion and dip in the mikvah. The ceremony was lovely and Imri made his opinions known loudly at the more inopportune moments, which I thought was pretty funny, considering.

In general, Imri is doing well other than this last week when he has been battling Coxsackie virus in its Herpangina incarnation. He battled a fever for four days, and it remained up there, even on alternating doses of Tylenol and Motrin - it is only now starting to break. He has been a trooper for the most part, although clingy and wanting only to nurse. Poor baby - he has blisters at the back of his throat and while I don't have tons of milk anymore, it seems to make him happy enough. He has also been treated to popsicles and the smallest, weeist amount of ice cream ... John stayed home with him Monday and I have been home with him since. He's definitely better but still clingy and wanting mommy. Oy, do my nipples hurt.

His nine month visit came just before the onslaught, where he measured in at 23lbs 5oz and 30 inches long! A bouncing baby boy, most definitely. Imri has also started pulling himself up on all and everything that will allow it

and has finally started crawling forward, although in very small increments. He is standing well, to the point where he deplores playing with toys that mean he has to sit down. Well, other than books. And he is talking, non-stop. He says something that sound suspiciously like "car" when one goes by although it does sound similar to his word for "cat" and both John and I have heard him say something that sounds like "book" while "reading" one. He really is trying very hard to express himself and it is wonderful! He has also found my belly button, much to his delight.

So there you have it. I really didn't say everything I wanted to say but ... that's all you get for now.

And don't rent from Budget.

Good news, better news and other news

2006-07-07T08:15:00.000-04:00

The papers didn't come in time, of course. On Monday afternoon, after I realized the mail had brought nothing but the usual bills, mortgage offers and flyers, I spent 90 minutes on the phone with increasingly "higher up" INS people via their call centre and was told there was absolutely zip they could do for me.

It will also give you great comfort to know that the INS person in, say ... Chicago - can't access the computer system of the person in Baltimore, for example. So while the customer service peon was able to tell me that my petition had been approved, the actual INS officer I spoke with some time later was unable to see that same information. In fact, she was only able to see older info that showed my application still pending. Nice to know that Dept of Homel@nd Security has intra-operability. Shhh. Don't let Al Qaeda know.

I pretty much dissolved into tears when I got off the phone. Fortunately for me, it was time to leave work, so I scrambled out of there before I broke down.

The better news - and the good news - are that my papers did come Wednesday and the document allows me to cross the border multiple times until July of next year! Hopefully by then, I'll have my green card but I'm not holding my breath. It seems that I filed at a popular time, as the sabre-rattling of the various Houses of government regarding immigration, has finally got a lot of procrastinators off their collective asses. Yay.

The other good news - or not, depending on your perspective, is that the bris was postponed. My sister in law is not Jewish and by Jewish law, the baby (Judaism goes by matrilineal lines) is not Jewish until he undergoes conversion. Supposedly the rabbis are meeting on Monday to discuss what needs to be done - obviously my brother wants this done right, so we are all waiting patiently. I am not sure what converting of a newborn entails - some googling revealed a dip in the mikvah after the bris but Mindy may know more.
So we wait.

And I will be able to go, without issue - I am so happy about that! The thought of missing my nephew's bris had me completely broken down, seriously.

Imri still isn't sleeping through the night. Nothing new there. If anything, its gotten worse, probably due to teething. Jr is being a shit. Nothing new there. I'm about done with him. John is being a twat, especially in regards to Jr. That comes and goes and is getting old. Very effing old.

But we did have a nice time at the town fair. Imri seemed to enjoy himself but it was very loud and that seemed to make him very quiet. He is not normally quiet these days - in fact, he has taken to shrieking very loudly, especially when he isn't getting the attention His Highness feels is his due. Oy. But he seemed to like the rides. It turned out to be a nice 5th of July for us all, even if I did have helmet hair.

In which I get angry at the goddamned INS

2006-07-02T12:04:00.000-04:00

It all started with my cell phone ringing while I was in the procedure room, caring for a patient. A quick glance showed a Toronto number - my heart always clutches a little when that happens. I figured one of two things; 1)my brother and his wife had their baby or 2)something bad had happened to a parental unit. Fortunately, it was the former option - a baby boy! Wonderful news - I had known in my heart that it was a boy- don't ask me how. Just as I knew that Imri was going to be a boy, I knew. There's no science to it.

And thus began the Immigration SNAFU. For those not in the know, SNAFU stands for "situation normal - all fucked up". I believe it has military origins - wouldn't surprise me one iota.

So ... upon the realization that a baby boy had been born to my brother in a different country than the one in which I currently reside, I pulled out my immigration papers. Amongst them was the receipt for something called an I-131 or Application for Travel Document or "advance parole". Basically, it's a document which would allow me to travel to Canada for a special occasion without forfeiting my status (which is currently "shut the fuck up and wait" it seems). Forfeiting my status would basically invalidate all the paperwork John and I had filed, including fees. That would be bad. Very very bad. The fee for this document alone was a crazy $170.

So ...I called the 1-800 number listed on the form and pressed the various options, finally hearing that there was no new information for my case and the anticipated wait time for the document would be approximately 30-60 days. My calendar said June 28th. I filed on April 24th. 60 days had come and gone.

So ... I pushed a bunch of other buttons and finally spoke with a customer service "specialist". I explained the situation to her and she told me I had two options; 1) go to a specific website and make an appointment with an Immigration counselor in Baltimore to discuss my situation or 2)if no appointment was available before I needed to leave, I should just meander on over to the INS in Baltimore and throw myself on their mercy, hoping they could see me. Yeah.

I was in luck. They had an appointment for 11 am. It was 9:08. I looked at Imri and made an executive decision to get going. I grabbed all the necessary (to me) paperwork, Imri's brand new Jeep Liberty Urban Terrain stroller, a diaper bag and boogied.

We arrived in Baltimore with about 20 minutes to spare, a testament to my superior ~~speeding~~ driving skills and the lack of cops on the Interstate. I signed in and waited. My number was called and I went to speak with the INS official.

Now I worked in Baltimore at Ginormous Famous Hospital. Baltimorean attitude (and big hair)is not new to me, especially amongst those who figure a little power goes a long way (see: medical clerks and ICU cleaning people. See also: INS "specialists", and weird hair-dos). Yeah, Charm City - my tuchas.
Anyway, I explained my story to her, including the filing of the previous I-131 and why I hadn't received it yet and her response was "Oh ma'am, the 30-60 days is just a guideline. It can take up to 6 months". I did a backstep. Whoa. OK, I kept going
and told her what the customer service person had advised me to do. She was indifferent: "Is this a life or death emergency??" I maintained how it was perhaps a life emergency to me and my family, yes. Where was my proof, she demanded.
I was puzzled. Proof? I queried. Yes, she said haughtily with a raised brow. "How do I know that there was an actual baby born?? Where is your proof??".

Boys and girls, I was dumbfounded. Yes, loquacious me was left pretty much speechless. After all, I'm not asking to travel to Uzbekistan. "Ummm the baby was born yesterday. In Canada. I don't really have any proof". The INS flunky nods and continues argumentatively back and forth with me. She teases me with "well, I could query the status of your I-131...". I look at her gratefully till she continues with "..but that would cost you another $170". I looked at her astonished. And promptly burst into tears.

Now if I had been thinking (which I wasn't, I was going on straight emotional stressed-out, over-tired momma hormones), I probably would have thought to myself "self, don't give this power-greedy bitch the satisfaction of knowing she made you cry". I'm fortunate that my emotional side spoke up because once I started crying, my beloved Imri who till that point had been sunshine and light, started crying too.

Which touched something inside the INS bitch's cold heart and she said "let me talk to my supervisor". I gulped and blubbered a thank you and held Imri close. She returned after a few ... "My supervisor says we will ok it IF you file another petition". I nod slowly as she continues "but we will need another 2 pictures AND another fee of $170". My face must have showed my dismay because she shook her head and said "that's all I can do".

What would you have done? Emotional blackmail of the highest order - my nephew's bris and seeing the family is going to cost me an arm and a leg - money that has ALREADY BEEN PAID and should be refunded (they don't refund fees, oh no. Never. Period.)This document which would allow me to cross the border legally and without penalty is now going to cost me $340. Not to mention money lost from days of work lost. And we are beyond broke.

But it's family. And family is everything. So I did it. Imri and I went to the Ritz camera and I got pictures done. Then the ATM, then to the Rite Aid for a money order. Fill out the petition again. Go back to Big Hair and submit it all. "Have a seat" she says.

And I wait. And wait. And wait. I am finally called up by a woman whom I assume is the supervisor who tells me that the document will go out in the mail that evening. I am blown away again ..."so I won't get it now?". "No ma'am, it will be mailed out. It should arrive in 3-5 days".

That was Thursday. It's now Sunday and nothing. There is no mail Tuesday the 4th. The bris is supposedly Wednesday although it may be delayed because the baby had an infection at birth and because I beseeched my brother to push it back because I really really really can't afford to miss two days of work.

With my luck, I will be out $340 and I still won't be able to go to my nephew's bris.

Can I tell you how much this fucking SUCKS???? How angry I am at the rudeness and callousness of the INS and this money-grabbing scheme of theirs? How wrong this is? How angry it makes me to think that at this very moment there are probably several hundred illegals making their way into this country with little or no hindrance, but I, who had dotted my i's and crossed my t's has to pay through the nose??

The only saving grace of the day was my sweet and beautiful boy, who other than the one crying incident in front of Big Hair, was a complete angel. In fact, a gentleman who had been sitting there waiting together with me and other anxious petitioners, came up to me and said "Ma'am, you have the happiest baby I have ever seen. He's wonderful!". Yes, Imri charmed the INS waiting room. That'll teach em in Charm City.
Oh, and that's while he's teething, too. Yes, boys and girls - we have our first tooth!

And so we wait. Wish me luck that it comes tomorrow. I know it won't, I know it in my heart - but wish me luck anyways.

A letter to Imri

2006-06-24T08:43:00.000-04:00

My sweet boy,

You are now nearly 8 and a half months old and I can't believe the constant transformations I see in you.

You are sweet - yes, all mommies believe their babies are sweet but you truly are a sweet-tempered and happy/sunshiny boy. You love to laugh, you smile so much. People who see you in a store can't help but smile at your beaming face and reach out to you.
Nothing delights you more than mommy holding you as you jump and jump on the couch. I see shades of the boy you are becoming ... a beautiful boy I see jumping on beds and moonbounces and everything else he can find.

Imri, you are the most alert baby I've ever known. You look at everything, stare at everything. I wonder what it is you see, how your mind processes each and every new thing that comes your way. You are entranced by cars and their movement - also by our cats and their movement. Some of your biggest smiles happen when Simcha comes into the room.

You love books. I mean ... you adore them. Chewing them, flipping their pages, staring at the pictures intently. You look up at me as I read to you and laugh and try to touch my lips.

Words are coming to you now. I swear I heard you said "cat" the other day when Simcha came meandering by. Your favourite word is "da DA da" said in that beautiful small voice. You beam at me when you say a "word" and I repeat it back to you. Such happiness - you are a happy child, beloved boy.

You show strong preferences when it comes to foods and aren't afraid to tell me so loudly - we've started yoghurt and you love it. You love gnawing on fresh peaches and other fruit but get frightened and "choke" on their texture. You were less enthused of the broccoli/chicken jarred food but seem to love the apple/chicken thingie. Yes, I'm feeding you jarred baby food which makes me squirm, but before long you'll be eating table foods too ... if only a tooth or two would make an appearance. Lots of drool, no teeth. I know they're coming. But this works well with the breastfeeding thang - which I'm still doing, albeit less of now.

Beloved boy, you're still not sleeping well at night - I know you want to cuddle and nurse with mommy all night, but it's not working for mommy, my love. Not for a lack of desire - but because we live in a country that doesn't support mommies staying at home with their babies. I have to work - and need to sleep.
If we lived in Canada, I'd still be home with you - and I'd have another 4 months to go. It still breaks my heart a little each time I drop you off at the daycare.

You haven't figured out the knack of crawling yet - you rock back and forth and end up moving backwards. You love standing and "walking" when mommy holds your hands. You get SO excited when you walk, it's incredible to see - as if you can sense that you are on the verge of freedom. You try to stand when you can but you haven't quite gotten the concept of pulling yourself up yet.

The jumperoo is still one of your favourite toys and I will mourn when you are too big for it - and the day is getting close now. 22 lbs at your last doctor's visit! You are such a big boy - and you are starting to look more little-boy-like now, and less babyish, which brightens my day and hurts my heart a little, all at the same time.

You have so many toys and books! Mommy can't help herself, especially at yard sales. She got you a toy bus, truck and train yesterday (all for 2 dollars! Your mommy loves yard-saling) because of your seeming fascination with all things that move - and sure enough, you love that bus. The truck and train will wait till you're a little older, I think.

You get such a big smile when mommy starts to sing the "bushel and a peck" song - it seems to be your favourite out of all the songs I sing. Such a big smile and you even give kisses, sometimes. They are the sweetest kisses I've ever known.

The bath seems to be a source of fascination - you've really taken to it and love the different toys that show up in your tub. Banging toys together is a favoured pastime now as is splashing in the water. For a boy who didn't always like water, you sure do love that duck tub now!

I love nursing you to sleep, Imri sweet. Be it breast or bottle, I love watching your face become tranquil with food and comfort, the way you snuggle down into the crook of my arms, the way your breathing changes and slows, the little sounds of contentment you make as you drift off. I stand at the side of your crib and watch you breathe, trying to mark the moment, the beauty of your face in my mind forever.

Even on the most difficult and exhausting days, I love being with you, Imri. You make it all worthwhile. I never knew I could love like this ... I never knew you would be so incredibly and utterly wonderful. You are more than I ever dared ... no, more than I ever knew existed - to hope for. I get afraid sometimes, sweet boy - afraid that this near-perfection can't last - but then I look at your sweet face and am reassured.

Because even now at this young age, you amaze me. And I know deep in my heart that is never going to change. You are very very deeply loved, my Imri sweet.

Sleep - the ongoing saga

2006-06-20T12:36:00.000-04:00

Is it only me that fails the word verification thingies that blogger (and other sites) use to prevent spambots? I'll get something like mqwkvgewyfs. I type it in carefully, hit the "submit" button and ... I get another jumble of letters with "please try again" or some such. Some days I feel like such a loser.

Anyway, the sleep thing continues to defy us. At most, Imri will sleep between 1.5-3 hours at a stretch. When he does sleep a whole three hours, the skies open and angels weep for joy. Of course, that could also just be my brain, delighting in REM sleep once again. Wow. Three whole hours is such a source of joy - it's kind of like the rejoicing that commences when I see that the gas station nearby is selling gasoline for only $2.85 a gallon. Who woulda thunk that I'd ever get excited over either of those things?

I did read some Weissbluth, a recommendation of some wise ladies and ... we just can't do it. CIO, or crying it out, just won't work for our family. At least not right now. I did take away some useful pointers like "bedtime doesn't have to be exactly at the same time every night" and so on which helps, as I don't like being rigid ... but we shall see. Imri did sleep for a decent chunk of time (about two hours, so no angels singing) last night but that could also be because he hadn't really slept since close to his noon nap at daycare. Most of the remainder of the night, he spent in bed with me. And I actually did sleep for a large (all things are relative, boys and girls) part of the night, until I was awoken by a fairly fierce thunder storm at 4am. Ah well.

Father's Day was a wonderful success. John loved the pictures of Imri that I had framed for him - it was the same pic, only I had them enlarged professionally and one copy was black and white - he absolutely loved them. Imri got him a Nike golf shirt of some special "moisture wicking" material and that was a big hit too.

We ended up going to Ruby Tuesd@ys for dinner that evening, as I had received a gift card which was begging to be used. We were a tad nervous about taking Imri out to a restaurant, but it was a wonderful experience. I brought baby food, rattles and various other paraphernalia - Imri was delighted to be sitting up with the big folks and eating, able to survey all around him (and be adored by same). He decided to partake of our conversation and offered such insights as "da da da DA! DA!! ba ba BA!!". We were impressed but decided to have dessert at home. He was so good as to make it a fun evening for us - it made us realize that we should do it more often.

On to more good news; Imri saw Dr Wonderful this morning and his hemoglobin, hematocrit and ferritin levels are all within normal range. He will remain on iron drops for 2 more months and ... his spleen is back to normal size. His ears are clear despite the cold that has beleaguered him recently and he is just so absolutely delicious that all the nurses flock to him whenever I bring him in. It's very sweet - Imri takes it in stride as his due, of course. My center-of-attention son ... very cute.

I've been keeping to myself of late - sleep deprivation and some home-front trouble, not to mention a fairly heavy period (I'm guessing due to less pumping/breastfeeding)have led to a bit of sadness and lack of coping. I hesitate to term it depression because I am feeling better and my tsoures are small potatoes in the grand scheme of things. It did feel pretty awful when I was deep in the throes, but I've gotten over myself. Oh and my mother finally did call. Not necessary but nice.

So there you have it. A blogger keeping to herself sort of defeats the purpose of blogging but some days I don't have the energy. If I did, I'd probably already be down the ~~thirty~~twenty pounds I need to lose very desperately. I'll try and stay in touch.

On a schedule - for what it's worth

2006-06-11T08:19:00.000-04:00

Life continues merrily on its path. Jr graduated from high school to our joy and relief. He then proceeded while at work, to sell cigarettes to an underage kid who also happened to be an undercover cop. We await his punishment - he is suspended from work until they say otherwise. Yeah. Well, at least he graduated. Nuff said.

Imri is flourishing and growing bigger before my eyes. To the extent that we find ourselves driving to the nearest baby store today, to purchase a convertible car seat as his infant seat no longer fits him ... *sob*!
He is babbling away and his word recognition is growing in leaps and bounds. He gets very excited at the word "book". Imri is exploring the world around him and trying mightily to crawl. He has the up on all fours down pat, it's the forward motion that eludes him. He rocks and rocks and ends up moving backwards - which is still movement, you know.

He delights in standing up - assisted, of course - he is very sturdy on his feet and will take steps as well. He gets very excited by this. His latest thing is not the beloved jumperoo, but a basket filled with small toys which he delights in emptying over and over again - with much gnawing and chewing involved. He does, however, absolutely love jumping on beds, couches or anything bouncy upon which his doting mother will help him bounce. I'd do anything to hear that amazing laugh. Absolutely anything.

He is pouring drool these days but still no tooth to be seen. His behaviour is definitely teething behaviour though - he is chewing on everything and anything.

To top it all off, it's as if a lightbulb went off and he has gone nuts over solids! Hurray! From the boy that would spit everything out and cry when you fed him, he has turned into an eating machine; three solids meals a day, including meats, veggies, fruit and oatmeal. Pretty much anything and everything we put in his mouth, much to our joy.

To our chagrin however, was the discovery that a full belly doesn't necessarily mean better sleep. We were hopeful, I tell you. He even slept a full three hours a couple of nights. Last night disabused us of the notion that things were improving, unfortunately. Imri woke after 30 minutes, then after 15 minutes, then 15 minutes, then 45 minutes. We got up to an hour interval when I pulled him into our bed. Enough. I need SOME sleep.

I'm hoping this is a mere bump on the sleep highway. We have instituted a schedule for my beloved boy, despite my declaration to John some months ago "our boy does fine without a schedule!" -which was true at the time but seems to be that way no longer. John had difficulty accepting the whole concept of change but he is getting over it. Slowly.

Anyway, this is our schedule right now, with some minor alteration on the weekends when Imri seems to know he can sleep in. That's my boy ...

Wake: Usually around 5-6 am, depending on whether he has daycare or not.
Leave for work/daycare around 6:15. Sometimes he nurses, sometimes not. Usually he has been sucking on boob part of the night so he's not terribly hungry.
Arrive at daycare around 6:45 - nurse.
Or if home, nurse around 7:30 ish.
First nap around 8 - 8:30. The last couple of weekend days he has woken closer to 7 am so the early nap has gone down the toilet. I am not sure that will be the case on early morning days.
Breakfast when he awakes, 9ish. 4 Tbl oatmeal and fruit and veg.
Playtime.
He usually nurses or gets a bottle some time between 10 and 12.
Nap - now this seems to vary. Sometimes he naps early (usually for me) and sometimes he naps later (usually for daycare). So it remains fluid. So it could be at 11 (yes!)and it could be at 1.(boo)
12-1 Lunch - 4tbl oatmeal, fruit and veg.
Playtime.
Nap - usually around 3-4. Sometimes later, such as when John picks him up from daycare and he falls asleep in the car. Usually around a 30 minute nap.
Bottle or nurse
Playtime.
6ish - dinner. Meat and veg. No fruit or juice or anything sugary. We try and stay low-key from here on in, including low key playtime.
7ish bathtime. We do it every night now.
7:30 we read books
7:45 bottle/nurse
8-8:15 bedtime. (Some on my bulletin board say 8 is too late for bed but I don't often get home from work until 6:30, so it has to fit into our home life and that seems to work well.)

Then wake wake wake wake and want to nurse nurse nurse nurse. *sigh*. He does fall asleep with relative ease to music - both his lullaby mobile and his Aquarium one get called into service at different times. Last night as I was about to pull my hair out, I decided to use the aquarium ... halleluyah. He finally slept for about 1-2 hours. Imri usually ends up in our bed around 3-4 am out of my desperation for some form of sleep. Where he nurses a lot but not as much as he used to. (I wonder if that has anything to do with his ear surgery - I also wonder if that is the reason he wants to eat too - or if that was just plain ol' perseverance.)

We did try a teeny-weeny-mini-attempt at CIO last night at one point, to see if he would lull himself back to sleep, but he just kept escalating and escalating, to the point that when we did go in, it took a lot longer to bring him down than if we had gone in earlier. And perhaps that is what caused the many reawakenings of that night. Who knows? Not I.
Anyway, it's a big Nope. Not doing it. I don't care how many people email me or comment and say "hey, cio is the only thing that worked, it was awful but it worked ..." "awful" is a word I don't want to associate with my son. Not now, not ever. If it is that miserable an experience, it's not the right way to go for us. Both John and I feel strongly about this. And both of us (more me, of course) aren't getting much sleep.

At least we agree on that. Pretty much all other bets seem to be off.

Comments? Ideas? Suggestions(that don't involve CIO)?

My husband also seems to want to do something called "sex". I vaguely remember this - it felt good, if I remember correctly. However, right now when given the choice between sleep and this "sex" thing ... I pick sleep. Call me silly. And call him frustrated. Oy.

PS - my mother still hasn't called.

Chapter 2 (or is it 3?) in "I think I was raised by wolves"

2006-06-04T07:26:00.000-04:00

My parents are older - I've mentioned this before - and rather set in their ways but aside from that, my mother tends to take every situation and ratchet it up several notches. I'm not sure if this is a cry for attention or whether she's just never learned to cope appropriately but her attitude tends to rain down on the rest of us, including my father.

I've tried very hard to call them frequently as we live so far away and I want them to share in their grandson's life as much as possible, but you have to wade through a lot of my mother's bullshit and it's getting old and tired. There is always something that has ruined something else for my mother. My mother could find flaws in perfection, trust me.

They do have my sympathies as they had a difficult week. Their fridge compressor died and they had to go 5 days without a fridge which is hard, especially in your 70s - but I called to say hi yesterday and you would have thought I had asked my mother to drop everything and walk on over the 700 miles or so to visit us ...

You see, she's completely stressed out. Why? Because my brother and his wife are expecting in July (nothing new) and sister B is going in for surgery around the same time(we also knew this)and how mom just can't care for her kids because she's exhausted (ok, just tell her, you're always exhausted) and sister A is not well (also nothing new) and the fridge and yadayadayadayadayadayada and how her hand hurts (!!!!)because she was on the phone for an hour (!!!!)with sister A and how she's just going to have to call me back tomorrow.

Which wouldn't be a big deal if she hadn't said exactly the same thing last week and I never heard from her. Or how she seems to call very rarely now anyway.

Add to this that my parents have told me that they are coming here at some point during the summer (either before or after a visit to Quebec for whale-watching) and I'd like to get an approximation so perhaps I can rent a cottage at the beach or plan something nice to do for them and us - and while their ETA is dependent on whether or not my brother and his wife have a boy (for a bris or baby naming) it would still be nice to get approximates, but I obviously made the mistake of asking more than once over a two week period.
You would think I had asked for the moon. I mean - I'm trying to do something nice. Anyway, whatever. Besides, John and I do have some plans (not many) this summer and we will not cancel them at the last minute because my parents suddenly decide that "this is the weekend we're coming ..."

So I'm listening to my mother and making the appropriate commiseration sounds and I asked her if she got the last batch of Imri pics in her email, hoping this might improve her mood. She got all upset and it became a huge production, how she hasn't had time, the fridge was so stressful, everything is so stressful, she didn't really look at the pictures and how she just can't cope ... (did I mention that the fridge is fixed now?) and how badly my father took the poor customer service of the fridge repair people ....and she abruptly says something like "I just can't handle all this and I will call you tomorrow" and I got short with her and said "fine" and hung up. I mean, I was just calling so she could hear how her grandson is talking, really but she never even asked how he was.

It's my guess she could tell I was upset and she had my dad call back only I didn't answer when I saw their number light up the caller ID and my dad (who has to deal with all her moods, poor man) left a message about how I shouldn't worry about when they're coming they will let us know - so now it sounds as if that's why I called -which isn't why ...ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! It looks like they tried to call again in the afternoon when we were out, but no message was left so maybe she clued in.

I am just getting so tired of mom and her ~~issues~~ crap. Why can't she just take a chill pill and relax and try and enjoy her grandson (and everything else in life), rather than working everything into a state of panic?? Why does everything have to be a major meltdown?

I was so hurt yesterday I actually cried when I got off the phone. I should be used to my parent's rejection by now. I guess it just never occurred to me that it would be directed at my son, directly or indirectly. I'm just not going to let him ever be affected by that crap.

Moving on towards summer

2006-05-29T08:41:00.000-04:00

Yes, I've been negligent and haven't written here in a while. I'm a bad blogger. Does this mean I get a spanking?? Oops. Wait. Sorry. Wrong blog.

Anyway, life has continued on its frantic and slightly harried pace - the fantastic CAT scan results were followed by a visit to the ENT (ear, nose and throat doctor)the very next day. You see, Imri has just had too many ear infections; he has basically had non-stop ear infections since he turned 3-4 months old, accompanied with a dizzying array of ever-increasing in strength antibiotics. More importantly, we had seen a decrease in his babbling and his hearing seemed to be affected. So, I went to the DC Urban Moms archives (I post on that wonderful list) and found some name recommendations, called one and booked an appointment, a week or so before the whole CAT scan mess started.

Dr ENT is an older man who is also hard of hearing and has been since childhood - while he doesn't specialize in children, he does an inordinate amount of children's care and even has an absolutely gorgeous fish tank in his office, telling the tale of how the nurse at hisENT's office would let him feed the fish there, if he would be good and let the doctor examine him. I thought it was sweet ... and he has a dedicated area for children which some children's doctors don't have. All in all, it was win-win. He was quite old school in some ways, even courtly as he listened to the ongoing tale of Imri's ear infections. He examined Imri and pronounced quickly that he had a lot of fluid and needed tubes, explaining a few other small things. He said "asap" when he heard of the decrease in Imri's articulation.

So, the following Friday found us at the Children's Hospital satellite office in R0ckville at 07:00. Because Imri was the youngest patient of the day, he got to go first - and everyone involved in his care was excellent. The anaesthesiologist was a lovely warm man, who let me come into the OR and hold my son as he drifted off to sleep. No IVs, just a mask - none of the stress and anguish of a nasogastric tube or any discomfort to my sweet boy, other than the indignity of having a small mask on his face.

Not 15 minutes later, Dr ENT came out and told us that Imri was fine and that he had a great deal of thick fluid behind the ear, causing him basically to walk around with that "being in an airplane" sensation, as described by the good doctor. He invited us to go back to the PACU (post anaesthesia care unit) where a very nice nurse was caring for my sleeping boy. She was excellent - really the kind of nurse you hope would be caring for small children; thorough, sweet and painstaking in going over the post-care instructions with dazed parents. Yeah, I'm an RN but not when it comes to my boy. Besides, I don't tell people usually - John told her. Oy. Nurse Nice genuinely seemed to like children - it's nice to see. The nurse who cared for him while he had his CAT scan seemed to be filling in time.

An hour later we were on our way home with a sleepy boy. He had woken up crying, mostly from hunger as he hadn't eaten since 3:30 in the morning and my nurse-all-night boy wasn't happy at having the boob taken away. And yes, he's back in our bed. He starts in his but moves to ours ... we just can't seem to let him cry it out - he starts to hyperventilate and choke - so he snuggles with me and my sore nips.
But I digress. After waking, he went immediately to nurse and was easily consoled. Not long after, he was jumping in my lap and wanting to play ...

He gets eardrops twice a day and antibiotic for a while longer and we have to put earplugs in his ears for any exposure to water - his first permitted post-surgery bath is scheduled for tonight and I know that the ear plugs are going to be a huge hit ... uh-huh.

But the best part of this is that my son has started to talk. Almost immediately, that afternoon we heard his voice start to babble - and he hasn't stopped. Babbling, shrieking, yelling ... and listening to everything we say. If for no other reason, just hearing his voice again makes it all worthwhile.

So now we're just hoping that's the worst of his medical woes for many years to come. Sure, he needs repeat bloodwork in a month but during his H&P for the surgery, the young pedi (not one of the usual ones) couldn't feel his spleen. That has made a lot of people very happy, including Dr Wonderful who stopped by to tell us that bit of good news.

So, it's been a good long weekend. We didn't get to half the stuff we wanted to get done around the house but it's clean and our flowers are planted and mulched. Imri has a wading pool - unused as of yet, and a swing, which he adores. He is so close to crawling - can hike himself up on all fours and rocks - and ends up moving backwards but hey, to each their own. He is drooling and chewing his fingers and everything else - we are waiting for teeth to show up some day soon.

Jr went on his senior prom which was nice despite the enormous fubar-edness of his lack of preparation for same event and my having to put up with the presence of the biothing in my home. But all overshadowed by the sweet tones of my boy saying "bababababababababa" and "dadadadadadada" and responding appropriately to things like "are you hungry?" and "where's the cat?"

But no "mama". Yet.

A girl can always hope ...

It's good news!!!!!!!

2006-05-17T19:17:00.000-04:00

Dr Wonderful called me at work ... there is NO tumour, mass or anything else abnormal in Imri's belly or chest - yes, his spleen is enlarged but it looked fine and yes, he is anemic - we are going to continue Iron therapy for a month, then recheck and depending on results, we may go to a pediatric hematologist - but that's a big if!!!!

I broke down and sobbed in relief at work today ... my boy is FINE!! He is healthy and wonderful and just FINE!! Damn, here come the tears again .... I rushed home and scooped him up and covered his little face with kisses. Yesterday was all sorts of hell for my sweet boy but today - it's like the sun won't stop shining. Yeah, it sounds trite and banal and I don't care - it's how I feel. I literally felt 20 lbs lighter after the call from Dr Wonderful (who, btw, called 10 minutes after getting into the office and getting the results, that wonderful woman).

Thank you, every one of you SO much for all your support through a very trying and difficult time - we really appreciate the comments and emails of support. Your words, wisdom and outright caring about a small boy whom you've never met made a very difficult time much more bearable.

Fighting the fear

2006-05-14T11:37:00.000-04:00

I don't remember exactly when, but at some point in my life I learned the difference between living in joy and living in fear. It started a serious epiphany of understanding my own motivations and what drives me to this day. It's my belief that a lot of it is hard-wired into us - it is who we are and although there are some aspects of nurture, community, and socialization intertwined, it's hard to escape our genetics.

For the most part, I do believe that most people live in fear; fear of what we have, fear of what we don't have, fear of others, fear of the unknown, fear of what we haven't done yet, fear of not measuring up. For example, the last presidential election preyed on those fears, those small gremlins that live inside us and only come out to whisper quiet nasties in our minds and hearts. Easy pickings, really. Coach everything in terms of a bogeyman and people tend to grasp to the easiest and nearest solution. But I digress into politics when really, I don't mean to do so today (sorry, Jen).

Those who live in joy seem to be few and far between. Those few folks who actually revel in life and all its offerings, who go unabashed into strange places, who don't worry about what others might think of them, who are unafraid to be different or to take a new path.

I don't necessarily believe that one is exclusively one without any of the other. An offering of my own fears would stop most of you from reading this blog any further. Suffice it to say that despite my pessimistic and cynical leanings, I've always been able to find joy in small things - the beauty of a flower, the "remembrance" of a long-forgotten fragrance - although larger fears have often guided my direction and I say that with a measure of sadness. Even self-awareness doesn't always prevent one from doing the wrong thing. Needless to say, I am intimately acquainted with Fear, that bastard.

But fear like this new fear ... I've never experienced anything like it. It's sheer helplessness, aided and abetted by those small gremlins who delight in whispering horrors in my ears. It's a type fear that compels a certain masochism that forces me to go0gle "splenomegaly and anemia, infant". Maybe it's a way of attempting to assert some form of control over this fear - I don't know. I just know that I keep holding my sweet son and repeating to myself "there is nothing wrong with this wonderful healthy boy".

And while fear is gripping me to a large extent, I am trying very hard to believe in this new mantra. If I repeat it enough, perhaps it will remain truth.

Happy Mother's Day to all of us; women pre, post and intra.

Update ...

2006-05-13T13:58:00.000-04:00

We saw Dr Wonderful, the sweet non-interventionist doc whom I love.

She thinks we should go ahead with the test.

They are looking for a mass. She didn't say the chances of a mass were very small, either.

I am trying to hold it together till John comes home but it's not working and I am a wreck.

My sweet boy. Please - not to him. Do anything to me, but not to my sweet Imri, please.

Am I a nurse or a mother?

2006-05-13T08:53:00.000-04:00

So we took Imri in on Thursday for another check-up because of his ears and enlarged spleen.

Dr MOF took a look and his ears were still infected after a week on Omnicef. So, she decided to give him shots of antibiotics instead - my poor little man. At least the nurses there are excellent. He has a series of three shots (two at a time for a total of six) and today is the last day. It's just miserable - painful - they put Lidocaine, a numbing agent into the injection because of it - and there's no guarantee that this will work. I'm at my wits end and so glad I made an appt with the ENT for Thursday. We'll see what he says. I mean, if so many antibiotics haven't worked - maybe it's viral?? I'm very concerned about Imri's speech development - while he'll only be 7 months old on Mother's Day, it's my opinion that I've seen less consonant and vowel sounds from him of late and that worries me. Did I mention that he said "mama" last week?? *beaming mother*

As for the spleen - well, it's still enlarged. And Dr MOF decided she wanted to ultrasound him. Then she changed her mind and decided she wanted to CT him so they booked us for Tuesday at Children's Hospital in DC. We need to be there by 10 am, which means leaving our house by 8 - traffic is brutal around that time of day. I called there to find out the drill after finding out Imri will have to go without anything to eat for SIX (!!!) hours because they'll have to sedate him.

And, because he needs to get both oral and IV contrast, if he won't drink the oral contrast, they need to put in a nasogastric tube (down his nose and into his stomach)and also start an IV. Knowing my boy, he won't drink the contrast. Please. He barely takes juice on a good day.

Top that off with sedation (and without an anaesthesiologist, it's RN-done conscious sedation)for a procedure that may be unnecessary and I'm left with a real dilemma - do I agree to the procedure on the off chance that they MAY find something wrong ... or do I hold off from something that seems terribly invasive to me?

He is on iron drops and supposedly the anemia is fairly mild - so why not wait the six weeks to see if his anemia vanishes? Anemia is not uncommon in breastfed babies.

I do get a chance to talk to Dr Wonderful, his primary pediatrician today but unfortunately John won't be able to come because he's .... GOLFING ... grrrrrrrrrrr. He did come to the last two appointments, though. Finally.

And while John and Imri are getting somewhat better, I am still sick as a dog. It's awful. I mean, this is the sickest I've been since Imri started daycare and it's going on two weeks now - laryngitis (complete loss of voice)which is slowly resolving and now a wonderful head cold with the type of sinus drainage that gives you a toothache. My nose has become a faucet. TMI, I know. It's not helped by Imri waking every two hours at night, either. Or by the fact that I have no sick time left at work. I finally caved and took benadryl last night.

Anyway ... thoughts and input? My RN gut is telling me "wait" on this but my mother instinct is saying "if there IS something wrong, better to catch it early". I am so verklempt.

Anyway, Happy Mother's Day to us all!

Esa einai ...

2006-05-05T08:12:00.000-04:00

When we last checked in with our intrepid hero and his pediatrician (not Dr Wonderful, but Dr Matter-of-Fact) during his 6-month well-baby checkup, Dr MOF was concerned about a slightly enlarged spleen. I shrugged it off, as Imri has had so many ear infections and viri that I sort of did my mental "whatever". Well, not really. I just tried to tuck it somewhere in the back of my brain where it wouldn't scream at me constantly.

So yesterday when I brought him back to her, because of the Cough That Wouldn't Go Away and increasing amounts of snot, despite the antibiotics he's on, she took a moment to feel his spleen again. And it was still enlarged. And I could see the concern on Dr MOF's face. And (and I know I shouldn't start sentences with "and" but Mrs Smith, my 4th grade English teacher is not here right now)words started floating about the examining room.

"Blood disorders" ... "anemia" ... "sickle cell" ..."mononucleosis" ...and the one that had been niggling in the back of my brain ... "leukemia".

I have to tell you - I may be a hardened ICU nurse by trade and training but my world spun a fair bit there. Especially when Dr MOF ordered the bloodwork "stat" - my heart sunk.

I often write here how sweet-tempered my boy is ... and it's hard to explain to people who don't know him that he truly is but I will tell you - he didn't peep during bloodwork. Not a cry. Of course, yours truly kept him entertained during and held his little arm down (while swallowing back copious amounts of tears and smiling bravely at my oblivious boy)but he was such a good boy! Once we were done, I started sobbing and kissed the bewildered blood tech. Yeah.

I was ~~in a dead sleep~~ napping (my allotted nap courtesy of my dear John, who allowed himself two ...) when the phone rang. Dr MOF very kindly told us that everything looked good except for some anemia, to start him on yucky iron drops and that Imri may indeed have mono but we wouldn't know till Monday.
I said (in a very small voice) "no cancer??". She very kindly confirmed "no, no cancer. All looks good". In the grand scheme of things, I'll take mono any day out of all the options listed above.

Once I hung up, I burst into tears. John looked at me, perplexed. "Cancer?" he asked. "You said nothing about cancer." Yeah, I'm like that. I didn't see the need to worry him needlessly for a couple of weeks. As it is, we had already g0ogled "enlarged spleen, infant" till we were blue in the face.

So Imri, mommy and daddy are all fine, except for some laryngitis (mommy), ~~smoking~~ sinus crud (daddy) and a cold (Imri). And to make a good news day better, Imri only woke twice last night.

And while I am not even slightly a religious person, yesterday I raised my eyes to the sky beyond the mountains and gave thanks ...

Oh. And today ... another ear infection with a fever of 102.6 F. *sigh*. More antibiotics. Tubes are a-comin our way.

Much ado about sleep or the lack thereof.

2006-05-04T07:50:00.000-04:00

We decided to start Imri sleeping in his crib. My beloved son, whom I love to snuggle with, loves to nurse all night long. And mommy doesn't sleep all night because of it, no squeezebox issues here. So the crib it is, and I am happy we made the switch for the most part.

So,we I started last week and again, for the most part it's been ok, excluding a major fight with John regarding Imri and crying at night, and how to exactly do this, because neither of us really wants to let him cry it out (CIO, for those in the know).

John and I have been dividing *coughcoughBULLSHITcoughcough* the shifts up, because my beautiful boy still wants to wake every 2-3 hours and eat. *sigh*.

This is how the nights have been going:

7:30 - nurse and to bed. Which is earlier than it had been but it seems to be when he is tiring these days.
8 or 8:30 - first wakening (sometimes, not always). More food provided by yours truly.
11:30 or so - crying and hungry. Nursed.
1:30 or 2:30 - crying and hungry. Nursed. Then bottle from dad.
4 or 4:30 - crying. Sometimes hungry, sometimes just needs paci.
5:00 - M/W/F - time to wake up and get going to daycare with mommy.

John is supposed to catch a couple of those shifts. He got the 2:00 last night. After I had already nursed Imri a bit and put him back to sleep - he awoke again and wanted more.

So, I am not sure what to do, because it seems to me that my son is (sometimes) legitimately hungry and other times he isn't. He is obviously having a tough time getting back to sleep on his own without nursing. We I have tried the 5 minute, ten minute thing and it doesn't seem to do a ton of good, not to mention that his father doesn't care for it (see:fight, major). Of course, his father isn't the one getting the brunt of the wakings.

His father is also in bed, asleep. Right now. On a Thursday morning. Because, you see ... I am sick. I am coughing up and dripping down yellow crud and have absolutely no voice. Imri has also started sneezing yellow stuff, despite being on antibiotics some 7-8 days now for another ear infection. John said (with no apparent symptoms and in an audible voice, no less) "I took some sinus stuff last night because I have what you have and it kept me up all night. I'm really tired, so I'm going to go get some rest". I just smiled. He asked me, of course, why I was smiling. Because he knows, damnit. I said "no reason" - because it just really isn't worth getting into. I mean, he wouldn't ask why I was smiling if he didn't already know.

Yeah, baby. And strangely, he didn't hear the baby crying last night, either - except for when I was already in there, nursing and one time, around 2:30. After I had already nursed Imri once and he re-awoke and wanted more.

Do I sound bitter? I am, a little. Mostly I'm bone tired. I was really hoping that having Imri sleep in his crib would finally lead to some rest for me and it's frustrating that it isn't. Maybe we're I'm doing this sleep thing wrong?

And I have to take Imri to the doctor at 1pm and also hope that my own doctor can fit me in today because I really need to be on some antibiotics. I told John that he can watch Imri when I see the doctor today.

I don't mean to be unfair to my husband. He is a good dad and a good man to be married to, it's just frustrating that (huge generalization coming, please ignore at your leisure) men just take the time for themselves and don't seem to think anything of it.

For example: John's nephew eloped and we've been invited to a party on a Saturday in early June. I mention it to my husband and he says "well, it's a busy weekend, you know. You see, it coincides with a (ick)golf tournament(on the Saturday) and the NASCAR race on the Sunday. So I'm not sure we can go".

At which point I looked at him absolutely incredulously and said: "You mean to tell me you've been planning to go to both events and leave me alone to care for the baby all weekend while you party?"

He had the grace to look shame-faced and then tried to wile his way out of it by saying that he had been debating which one he should give up .... uh-huh.

Again, my husband is a good man. He has two huge vices - golf - and that isn't a bad thing, except for that it takes an inordinate amount of time (and money, in my not so humble opinion) - and smoking. Which I won't get into again. Ok, I may but not right now.

And in fairness to him, he does "get it" sometimes, such as the time I went for the massage he got for me over the Xmas holidays and as I was leaving he said "and don't come back without some clothes, ok? I mean, jeans, khakis, some shirts ... you have nothing!" Which was nice to hear and I did, in fact, do some shopping for me, a rarity in my life. And he does put dinner on the table some days, he does do stuff around the house, he does care for Imri (mostly when I'm not there, but still), and he obviously dotes on him.

I don't mean to put him down and I hope I haven't here - I am just shaking my head and the stuff that's spewing out from said shaking is making it onto this page.
These are the major issues as I see them:

1)I am really not sure how to get Imri to sleep longer and not do CIO. Thoughts? Ideas? Suggestions?
2)I am still not getting much sleep and it is really affecting my health and wellbeing and my husband doesn't understand this much.
3)Work is sucking in a huge way, including lots of drama and major short-staffedness, not to mention my nurse manager who is being a total bint.
4)My husband is still smoking and doesn't often "get it", despite conversations about all said issues.

On the good side there is also plenty, however. Imri has decided he likes peaches. YAY!!!!! Finally, a solid I can feed him.

He also has taken a fancy to Granny Smith apples. Yes, the boy who turned up his nose at my freshly made Gala applesauce, stared at me as I munched on an apple and when I gave it to him, went completely bonkers over it. It was very funny.

Imri looked up at me the other day and said very distinctly "mama". I did a double take, looked at him and started to bawl. I am not sure he knows what it means but ... he knows it brings great excitement and tears! I can almost hear him thinking "what's with the food provider?? Nice lady, but kinda strange ... maybe I should try that mama thing again sometime. Ah, maybe not ... there's a toy!!...chomp."

He is also very close to crawling. He has the arm thing down pat but the leg thing isn't working quite yet.

Daycare continues to be a good situation for him - he is getting good care there.

And more than anything? He is just plain ol' deliciously wonderful! Such a happy child - and I am so so SO in love.

And if you can stand one more good thing? My immigration papers are in and I have the receipts to prove it. Yay!! Now I just have to wait for them to schedule my fingerprinting session and then ... keep on waiting till they process me. Which may be a year or more. Hey, but at least I'm legal :)

Been gone gone gone so long ...

2006-04-23T08:02:00.000-04:00

Yeah I know. Lame song. And if you were humming along with it and it sticks in your head like it has mine? You're old. I'm just sayin.

Passover was a dream come true. Imri traveled beautifully in the car - I did the not-to-be-forgiven thing of actually taking him out of his car seat intra-trip and holding him a little while John drove. My son is a very alert boy who loves to look at everything and that helped soothe him and actually lull him to sleep. Sometimes. He didn't sleep much on the trip, but he was amazingly well behaved.

So well behaved that family at our Seder commented on how late it was and how uncranky Imri was. Seriously folks, he doesn't really cry when tired. He just seems to get more and more alert and watchful of all the goings on. When at home and tired, then he does cry a little but it's more a plea "please nurse me and let me drift off at the boob. Please?".

Well behaved at my cousin's wedding reception, well-behaved at the Seder that night. A delight and joy, really. Held and played with by multitudes of adoring family ... and welcomed into our "clan" by my uncle, father of the bride who called attention to his entrance into our clan. We had family in from Israel and across North America and the joy of everyone at Imri's birth and his presence amongst them was incredible - he was welcomed into our "clan" by so many and got many many gifts that were unexpected. Imri is the newest descendant of our common ancestor, whom we often refer to and whose name I will not mention for fear of Dr G00gle.

But it was a moment of pride and joy as Imri was held aloft and welcomed into our extended family - the kind that brings tears now. I took many many pictures, of course. One of the most memorable moments for me, is that of sitting beside my father as he sang his father's melody of "Chad Gaddya" to Imri. I have to say - having my infant son beside his Zeda (grandfather) as he told the story of the Exodus from Egypt and from slavery was incredible - and the look on my father's face as he sang the age-old songs to my boy was beyond description. I am so blessed with riches. It's something I will remember as long as I live.

Another sweet memory is Imri playing at my parents wooden table -it's a very unique table and as children, we used to crawl through its spaces. Now my niece and nephew do that ... and it won't be long before Imri does. But my mom held him as he played with the table's knobs, lumps and metal pieces. (Points for those who can spot the pacifier ...)My parents bought that table the year I was born - and we have pictures of me and my brother playing at it as our Boba and Zeda held us and sat nearby.

I didn't expect so much joy and celebration at Imri's presence, honestly. I think my generation sometimes forgets that the birth of every Jewish baby is something for us to truly celebrate since we lost 6 million not that long ago. It's made even more special for me, because of infertility and all that happened so that he could be here. So this was an incredibly special and momentous Passover and I wanted to share with you all how lucky and blessed I feel that Imri got to spend this time with family who love him so completely.

My father said "I'll be 90 at his bar-mitzvah" ... not "if I make it" or anything like that, but a statement that he would be there. I told him I'm holding him to it :)

Ah but life is good. I won't hardly mention the terrible stomach flu that struck us all down one by one or the ear infection or AF ... but life is good. It was worth every tear, all the pain, everything, to have this time etched in my memory for ever. I would do it again in a heartbeat.

As for my immigration fears and woes - well, we decided to use a different and busier port of entry into the USA and the border guard looked at me, looked at my passport and wished us a good day. That's it. After all my fears. *sigh*. And as of yesterday, we have officially sent off my permanent residency paperwork, so if there is any luck to be had, wish it upon me. I'm hoping to have my green card by this time next year, INS and DHS willing.

And to top it off, Imri is getting so big. He is sitting up on his own and is so close to crawling. He "talks" and is making himself understood in different ways - he definitely understands "hungry" and "boob". That's my boy ...
He goes for his 6 month appointment next week but saw the doc last week because of a "maybe" ear infection and he is ... 19 pounds and 13 ounces. At 6 months. He is still teething a lot but no sign of teeth yet, just mucho drool.

All in all a good several days and a time I will always remember. I am so glad we got to go home. Home. Yeah. And John is talking more and more about moving to Canada. A girl can always hope, you know.

Happy Passover!

2006-04-11T13:12:00.000-04:00

More when we return from Canada. Have a great holiday!

Another bout of crud

2006-03-29T13:11:00.000-05:00

A quickie here because I've been neglecting the Internets lately. Funny how that is between working part-time (30 hours a week) and taking care of my son (how sweet that sounds)the rest of the time. I'm amazed I still find time to shower. Well, I don't sometimes but that's a whole nuther posting.

Imri has another ear infection. *sigh*. Again, no signs or symptoms - the only thing that clues me in is his need to nurse all night long - and even that is a guess on my part. I'm never sure. I was wracked with mommy guilt: "how could I not know my child was sick??? I must be a bad mommy!" and while I know that's not true, part of it tweaks that place inside, like a tongue worrying a sore tooth.

I'm just glad we had the follow-up appointment with Dr Wonderful. She is delighted with him; she always comments on how alert he is and has since day one. This time she clasped her hands gleefully at the sight of him "tripoding" (for those not in the know, like myself - sitting on his tuchas and balancing himself with two arms forward)and at his babbling. Yes, my boy is forming consonants as well as vowels and he grows more delicious each day. He also has rolled over from front to back! He seems to think this is quite the game, and though he tries mightily, he can't quite roll from back to front. Almost but not quite. Imri also keeps opening and closing his hammy hands, as if realizing "hey! these things actually work!". He is reaching for all and everything and it's amazing to watch him. Oh, and his laughter ... that amazing sound. I'd do anything to hear him laugh.

However, Imri decided to projectile vomit all over the place last night - these are the times that I remain grateful that we co-sleep. While I am aware that he probably wouldn't have aspirated the vomit, it certainly helped that I was right beside him and turned him immediately onto his side, then help him aloft, stomach down, as he proceeded to spew all over my freshly laundered sheets. After I changed him and John changed the bed, I nursed him and we went back to sleep ... well, almost asleep because just as we were about to drift off, Imri felt the need to repeat the performance.
I did call the pedi then (midnight plus)and although Imri snubbed his nose at the pro-offered water and later the pedi@lyte, he did nurse slowly (with me trying to block large gulps from happening) and finally drifted back to sleep. He did, anyway. I slept poorly, waking frequently to make sure he was still 1)free of any further vomit and 2)breathing. Call me silly. Go ahead.

So, an ear infection and a tummy virus - he did have diarrhea the day before at daycare and then for me, but I foolishly thought it was gone. Today he has been better but still subdued. Still diarrhea. No vomiting but definitely not as hungry as he usually is and much fussier than normal. But every now and then, he looks up at me and smiles that gorgeous smile and all is well again. He is so very beautiful.

Especially in this onesie ...

Very little about baby

2006-03-19T07:02:00.000-05:00

I wish I had something scintillating to say. So before the next kvetch-fest, I send you to March Madness where you too can get involved in figuring out the Conservative brackets. I'm hoping that come November the conservatives will have no brackets left. May I just note that South Dakota has BANNED abortion. Yes, that state has actually legislated against abortion except for when the life of the pregnant woman is in danger. Yet another blow against women and their right to control their bodies and fertility. Please vote wisely come November.

To add insult to injury, as with the rest of the infertile blogosphere, I am incensed by the president of Resolve's comments to Newsweek magazine - way to perpetuate stereotypes, dude. Thanks so much.

Now given, my particular problems were not caused by medical issues per se, no endo (at least not much), no PCOS (only a suspicion), just minor Hashimoto's and hypothyroidism. And even that wasn't really it - more a tubal issue, thanks to an ectopic, thanks to a mixed up relationship, thanks to being a screwed up teen-ager, thanks to a million reasons which are too complex to delve into early on a Sunday morning.

So ... yeah, I kind of fit into both categories and I was still insulted by the president of Resolve's interview and subsequent mea culpa (or lack thereof). Since when do you let the reporter dictate the kind of interview you're going to give? Don't give us a cop-out answer about how the reporter really wanted to focus on this or that aspect - tell the damned reporter "these are my conditions for doing the article" or no dice. Believe me - they want you for the story as much as they want to cover certain "aspects". Yeesh.

A lot of women in the blogosphere have written letter to Resolve - I wish I was as articulate as Brooklyn Girl
or as ~~inspiredarticulate~~errr heartfelt as Beaver Girl or any number of the women who wrote in anger, but the fact is - I am not. And while I'm name-dropping, please wish Akeeyu, Julia and Julianna good luck. Please.

So I kvetch here instead. Yes, you got one kvetch-free entry, if you're an infertile, you didn't dare hope for another. I debated taking down my Resolve link but I decided against it - after all, they do good, despite their asshole of a president. And - why exactly - and herein my bias will show - why exactly is the president a male? Not to be ignorant - heck, male infertility is a fact, but it just seems to me that men head so many organizations where women are the main participants/victims/users/insertwhateverfitshere.

That's definitely true in nursing.

I guess this would be a great jump-off into how much I have come to dislike working with women, but ... *shrug*. What else is new? Can you tell there is strife at work?

The sad part is that even if I left my job (which I do like, despite having a defensive/passive-aggressive/play favourites-type boss), I know that it will not be much different anywhere else. I have worked in many varied environments in my healthcare career; psychiatry, ICU, ambulatory care, telephone triage, regular nursing floor - and the environment rarely changes. Even if you're lucky enough to have a good nurse manager, which sadly is a rarity, the cattiness, back-stabbing and gossiping amongst the staff (and doctors, don't forget the doctors)is enough to drive you bananas. I'm not certain if it's women or nursing. Maybe it's both. And maybe that's where the president of Resolve gets it from - hell knows, he fits right in.

I love being a nurse. I love what I do, no matter where I do it and it which setting it is performed - caring for patients and doing my absolute best for them means a great deal to me. It makes a difference in people's lives, whether it's saving a life in the "every second counts" atmosphere of ICU, or helping alleviate the sometimes paralyzing fear of a patient about to undergo an endoscopy. I love it and I'm good at it. I just wish nurses ...well, I just wish we could all get along. Maybe then we could actually unite and cause something good to happen. The nursing workforce is huge, seriously. There are a few hundred thousand registered nurses across the United States - that should be some serious political power for change. Instead, we are torn apart by in-fighting and cattiness.

I suppose I'm not much better. I have not done much except kvetch about it.

Perhaps this kvetch was brought about by receiving one of the area's nursing magazines and seeing the nurse week gear they had for sale. I want none of it - and I really want to want it, baby. I do - well, other than the inane "nurses are angels" crap. I mean, really, folks. But I want to want the cute "don't mess with my mom, she's a nurse" outfit for Imri. I want to want the "RN" license plates you can get in Maryland. And I treasure the stuff my husband (and patients) have given me in the past. But something about all this nurse stuff - and not just the gear - leaves me cold.

And that makes me sadder than my meagre writing skills can describe.

I feel so much better now

A kvetch-free entry

2006-03-07T15:27:00.000-05:00

I just re-read several of my last entries and realized something important. I've been kvetching in all of them. So I hereby promise you a kvetch-free post.

Imri has started laughing. It is the most wonderful sound I've ever heard (and yes, that includes the one and only time I ever heard in stereo, accomplished with the help of certain pharmaceuticals).

Imri stands on my lap - stands, I tell you. He stands and holds himself upright, I only contribute the balance factor. And he jumps and jumps and jumps - and he laughs, that open-mouthed, happy-eyed, wonderful laugh.

Then, I sit him on my knee and bounce him and sing "bippity boppety boo" and we bounce and he smiles. I stop bouncing ... and start again. He looks up at me and the smile grows huge. I stop once more ... and bounce once. He giggles. I bounce him again ... he starts to laugh and laugh, his glee-filled eyes bright and shining and joyous.

He is reaching for things - my hair, my nose, my mouth. Anything he can grab in his chubby little hands or cram in his own mouth. He is a mere hair's breadth away from being able to roll onto his stomach. He is so close to being able to sit up unassisted.
Ah yes, life is good. Way good.

Even if we do have another ear infection.

Run, kitty ... run!

2006-03-04T07:53:00.000-05:00

Imri is at a really great stage right now. He's come to the realization that there are things outside himself - and that he can not only entertain himself, but interact, as well.
This is good for all involved but the cat.

Imri has fallen in love with one of our cats, Simcha. He looks for her constantly and smiles big when she comes into view. Yesterday I said "Imri, where's the cat?" and he turned his head until he saw her. I was most impressed. Imri is most impressed with her tail. Oy.

Simcha has always been the more standoffish of our two cats, but she has taken a keen interest in our little guy and has been very patient with his clutching at her fur. She actually comes and seeks him out - it's pretty cute.
On the other hand, my big cat Shimon started pulling out his fur three months after Imri was born. Depo shots have only held him for a couple of weeks and he starts again. He looks like he has a mohawk. It's very distressing and I really don't know what to do. It's a sheer stress response and I wish I had the time I used to have to cuddle him - he was always my baby - but I just don't. And I hate having to push him away when he tries to sleep up against the baby, but I do, for obvious reasons. I may have to put him on Paxil or something. Thoughts? Ideas? Suggestions?

And just so you know - Augmentin is from the devil. Imri had 8(!!!!) diarrhea-filled diapers in three hours after only 2 days on it. I called and spoke to a nurse about my concerns regarding: 1) dehydration, 2) his poor bottom which looked awful and 3)the need for some other course of action because he was obviously miserable.
The nurse argued with me. "It's not that kind of diarrhea" she said in response to concern number one. I raised my brow - which she couldn't see, of course, but if she had been able to see, she would have known that she should stop there.

Because, boys and girls ... how the hell does she know what kind of diarrhea it is? Has she seen it? And two ... diarrhea is diarrhea and Imri is only 4 1/2 months old. So there's a definite concern of dehydration, especially in one so young and with the extreme response over such a short time. I was unhappy. I reiterated to her my concerns regarding his bottom - if it looked this bad after 2 days of Augmentin and he needed to do 10 days ... well, it wasn't looking good.

She seemed most eager to get me off the phone - told me she would ask one of the doctors and someone would get back to me.

Which she did a couple of hours later only to say "we need the name of a pharmacy in case the doctor decides to put him on something else". I gave her the info and told her that they better think of another option for him as I had not (and would not) give(n) him his morning dosage of Augmentin. She exclaimed at the importance of continuing his medication, despite everything and yadda yadda yadda at which point I finally cut her off and brought out the big guns.

I told her I was a nurse.

If nothing else, it shut her up.

I will say this - for the most part, the nurses at the center are wonderful. She was just rubbing me the wrong way. Sure, I'm not the most reasonable of women sometimes, but her responses made no sense to me. So I pulled out my trump card. Sue me.

My mother will tell all and sundry that I'm a nurse - when my brother was in a car accident (nothing terribly serious), she kept telling the doctor in the ER "but my daughter is a nurse at VeryImportantHospitalinBaltimore!!!". Oy. I hate telling other medical professionals that I'm an RN. But when it comes to my son's health ... hey. I got over my hatred very quickly.

In the end, a doc called me (mine wasn't there that day) and I brought Imri in to see a different pedi - the verdict? His ears looked a lot better, no redness, swelling or pus and his eye is just fine and we decided to stop all medications and follow up next week.

So I'm thinking - maybe our sick patch is over. It would be nice! And I'm looking forward to and planning for Passover. We're driving up to Toronto ... with Imri.
He'll be six months old then. I can't even believe it.

And behind door number 3 ...

2006-02-28T07:49:00.000-05:00

These are the highlights of this week, so far:

Imri still has gunk in his eye, even after a week of antibiotic drops. And his nose is still runny and he still has a bit of a cough. We go back to Dr Wonderful today.

Imri is pooping REGULARLY! Yay! He loves his oatmeal cereal. Still turning his nose up at fruit but tolerated ... and I mean tolerated, some sweet potatoes. He still looks at me with a "lady, what the hell are you feeding me" look when I try anything but cereal.

John went golfing on Saturday, despite the fact that he was sick with my a cold. I didn't get the promised break on Sunday. Grrrrr.

Not only did I not get a break on Sunday, I also cleaned, vacuumed and did laundry. And took care of Imri. Oh, did I mention that I went grocery shopping and showered during my one hour "break"?

If I hear "I think he pooped" rather than "I'm going to change the baby" one more time, something is gonna get broken. I'm just sayin'.

I love me some Lilypadz (now that I've figured out how to use them properly)!

Because I am a shallow and vindictive bitch, I am delighted to report that I got some money back from the Wall of Marts. Egads, I hate them.

Imri was sleeping in his carseat, placed on the cart in plain view - the cashier took my flat of water bottles and THREW it into the cart, waking him up. Threw. As in tossed it, full strength. I was incredulous. I looked at her and said "I have a sleeping baby in there!!!" .

She shrugged and kind of laughed. Oh, am I hot about that. AND she forgot to ring up my coupons and told me I'd have to go to customer service ... yeah, with a crying (thanks to her!) baby. Right. I figured I'd swallow the $1.25. All she would have had to do was say "sorry" and I would have cooled right down.

So the next day, I trotted on back to the store because I decided to return something. In the meantime, there was a coupon for $5.00 off some Swiffer thing I purchased, which was inside the package. So, I brought it in and had them discount it and my other coupons. Not that they care about five bucks, but it sure made me feel better.

I told the customer service manager the whole story and she didn't give a rat's ass about it.
Unbelievable. I hate that store.

Update

Imri has an ear infection ... in both ears. Here comes the Augmentin! Has your baby gotten thrush from Augmentin? Poor little guy - he has been such a happy boy too, hardly complaining at all.

I thought breastfeeding would keep those evil germs at bay. Oh well. Dr Wonderful did say that John's smoking could be the culprit ... Ahem. I brought that to his attention tout suite. Or, "right away" for those who are not French-enabled.

And can I just say ... I knew motherhood would be good. I had no idea it would be this good. Ear infections, poop, pinkeye and all. It really is an amazing voyage.

Full of it

2006-02-23T08:37:00.000-05:00

What's that Carly Simon song? Co-oonnsstipaation? OK, so I'm awful, sue me.

Imri started rice cereal last week and he loves it. LOVES it. Only it doesn't love him, as it gave him some pretty robust constipation. He usually goes every 2-3 days but it had been a week - so I called the nurse line and they advised 4 oz of prune juice twice a day and a half glycerin suppository to get things going.

Imri took 2 oz of prune juice and called it an evening. He gave me the "what the hell are you feeding me, lady??" look when I attempted some Stage 1 pears (to my surprise and shock, seriously. I thought he'd love fruit!) and the same reaction to applesauce - he even spat it out. Hmmmph. So much for that idea. I'm thinking it's a texture thing.

That night, the heat of his little body woke me - 102.5. Yikes! I quickly gave him Tylenol and took off his sleeper to cool him down. Poor little guy.
By the next morning still no poop and to top it all off, he had developed a lovely case of pinkeye. He couldn't even open the left eye, it was so caked with crud. He raised his nose in disdain at the offered prune juice. Apple juice fared just as poorly. His temp was 101, he was unhappy and miserable, with a sneeze and tickling cough. I called the doc - my usual pedi was booked solid so we got him into another ped, whom in hindsight I'll call Dr Indifferent.

Off to the doctor we went. Dr Indifferent was rough with my boy - while I understand that he needs to do a physical exam to rule out a bowel obstruction or hernia, Dr Wonderful (Imri's usual pedi)is so gentle ... Dr Indifferent made Imri cry. I wasn't pleased, especially when he went digging around in his ear to make sure he didn't have an ear infection which made him scream. Rough, I'm telling you. I won't be booking with him again.
When he asked me what I did, and I told him - he became animated for the first time and kept talking about the virtues of computer charting with great passion. I tried redirecting towards my son ... *sigh*. Anyway, I finally got antibiotic drops for Imri's eye and a recommendation for "rectal stimulation" from Indifferent, despite my assurances that I had been trying that for the past several days without success. He also tut-tutted about our co-sleeping status and told me to stop the oatmeal cereal for a few days.

I ended up calling the nurse back that afternoon and explaining that my son seemed quite uncomfortable, despite the half glycerin suppository I had given him a couple of hours before, with no results(Indifferent had been ...well ... indifferent about giving him anything)and gave her the full lowdown. She exclaimed in dismay and told me that Dr Wonderful had gone for the day (sadly) but she would see if she could get another doc to give me a call.

20 minutes later the phone rang - it was Dr Wonderful. I love that woman! She listened and suggested a full glycerin suppository this time, went over the signs and symptoms of a bowel obstruction, told me to keep up the oatmeal cereal because of the fiber, to try mixing it with juice instead of EBM and to let him eat whenever he wanted - even just a snack, because she was concerned about dehydration. Professional and sympathetic to the nines - I am lucky to have her as Imri's pediatrician and I thanked her muchly.

I took my poor little guy upstairs and gave him the full suppository which he was not pleased with. He was restless and fitful and generally not himself at all, passing lots of very smelly gas and just being an unhappy boy. Who can blame him?

A couple of hours later, I went to change him - nothing yet. I took the rectal thermometer yet again and menacingly waved it in Imri's general direction and lo and behold!! Poop started spurting out all over the place!

Never have I been so happy to see poop in my life. And amazingly, Imri became his usual sun-shiny and sweet self not moments after the end of the poop session.

We are back to relative normal now ... and hoping for some smooth sailing from here on in. Oh and ... he hates oatmeal cereal with juice. Oh well.

Happy Valentine's Day

2006-02-14T07:27:00.000-05:00

Well, as mentioned previously, I've been sick. It started last Monday with a sore throat and cold. I missed work on Wednesday and went in on Friday - it seemed to be getting better. Imri got whatever I had but just a runny nose and a little cough.
And then suddenly I got worse. A lot worse.
It hurt to swallow - everything hurt, my nose was running, I was coughing up crud, I lost my voice again. I ended up leaving work early yesterday - a week after this all started - and went to the doctor. Turns out I have a sinus infection AND bronchitis and if I had waited much longer, I probably would have developed pneumonia.

So I'm on antibiotics now (and hoping Imri doesn't get thrush) and feeling a touch better. And to top it off, my period arrived this morning.

OH ... and my wonderful husband who has been very good to me since I took a turn for the worse, ate last night at the $heetz (gas station/fast food place)because I've not been cooking and now has terrible stomach cramps and vomiting/diarrhea. Classic food poisoning.

And, Imri had his 4 month appointment today with shots(my boy is four months old!!!!!)and is a cranky-pants, on top of his cough/runny nose. He weighs 17 (!!!) pounds and is nearly 26 inches long. My doc said "you grow 'em big". Big and beautiful! He's really amazing - talking and babbling and exploring. Imri is my heart's delight in every sense. It's such a big love, you know? Even when he's a cranky-pants.

Yeah, so we're having fun at Chez Chaos. Now you understand why I call it that.

Oh, did I mention my stepson who may not graduate high school because he's not turning in his graduation project appropriately? I am SO tired of wiping a 17 year old's ass, it's not funny.

Now here's the thing ... my boss, who is sweet as honey to me one day and won't look me in the eye on the following day didn't actually want me to leave work when I was sick. Even though it wasn't a busy day, even though I came to her towards the end of the day and hoarsely asked her if it was ok if I left after my procedure room was finished (although she had nurses to replace me if she had wanted to). The first thing out of her mouth was "do you have a fever?" in a fairly hostile tone. Ummm ... I don't usually carry a thermometer to work with me, so I didn't really have an answer for her. She didn't even have the couth to say "feel better". It was "well, if you have to go" .

I mean - I was *sick*. I had no voice, I looked like crap and was coughing up a lung. Ignoring the obvious "this is not good for patients or co-workers", I don't get why she didn't offer to send me home long before that. It was glaringly obvious to everyone how sick I was, even a couple of the docs asked me why I wasn't going home. I told them "because it wasn't offered". 'Nuff said. (In my defense, I wasn't feeling that awful at 5am, you know? It just got progressively worse - by 9 am I was terrible).

This is the same boss who, when I told her the other day that I might have to leave work early because Imri wasn't feeling well at daycare and was probably getting my cold, said to me with open hostility in her voice "doesn't he have immunity to that from you breastfeeding??" The same boss who told me that I could either find alternative daycare pronto or find another job?

I'm baffled, really. She's always had favourites and I was never one but when
I was pregnant everything changed and she was super nice to me. Now I'm no longer pregnant and it's as if I've suddenly become Public Enemy number one. If I was a slacker, I'd see her point but I'm one of the hardest workers they have - I know my work ethic and have no hesitation in saying that. So what gives? It's almost like she thinks I'm lying to her. Thoughts, ideas, suggestions?

So to you all ... Happy Valentine's Day from our house to yours and may your hearts be as full as mine is (despite everything)on this day of love.

Got sleep?

2006-02-12T07:17:00.000-05:00

This excellent post by way of the Leery Polyp says almost exactly what I was trying to get at - albeit lamely - in an entry some time ago. And I can't find it, so there. I'm gonna blame this cold. And lucky for you, because of this cold, I'm not going to pontificate about the issues she raises in her blog, but instead say: "get thee to the Leery Polyp and read, for it is good."

My poor son has my cold but it seems to be mostly upper respiratory with him - lots of snot and some coughing. No fever and he's in a pretty decent mood, overall. I wish the same could be said about his mother. But Imri has been sleeping well and other than really disliking me wiping his nose, is doing pretty well. It's hard being a baby when your mean mommy keeps wiping your sore, red nose. I sent John out for some V|cks and a cool mist humidifier yesterday - I used the later and not the former, but it definitely helped. I'm still not getting much sleep though. Hopefully this will pass quickly for him - I hate seeing him sick. Especially with boogers on his chin.

Now I am not sure about the whys and wherefores of this, and I'll tell you right now, my husband is a great guy, but what part of "wow, I would kill for 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep" doesn't John understand? It seems to me, and pardon the enormous generalization, that men are much more concrete than women. So instead of hinting,ie,: "gosh, I am so tired" or "gosh, I am so sick" or other like comments, I actually came out and said the statement above and waited. And hoped. And waited and hoped a little longer that my beloved spouse would turn to his sick wife this weekend and say "hey honey, let me take the baby for a few hours so you can rest".

Ummmm nope.

Or my comment to my dear husband "hey, you had a good nap this afternoon" and his ensuing cheery response of how great it was (which brought him close to death, but I digress) and my comment on how it would be nice if I could do that and the nodding of his head that followed ... but no action taken.

Or for example, the conversation that *just* happened after I typed the previous paragraph:
John: what happened to your voice?
me: I'm sick.
John: But it was better earlier. People get sick and then they get better, not get sick, get better and get sick.
me: (!!!!) I have no control over my laryngitis.
John: silence.
me: Maybe I need some uninterrupted sleep.
John: Art Shell is the new head coach of the Raiders!

I'm wish I was kidding.

I suppose I should say "I'm going to sleep for a few hours, please take care of the baby" - not to say that I haven't said that before and been met with "but I was going to do X to the house". Should I mention the brand new golf clubs and golf bag? And should I mention that he still hasn't given me a gift for my long-since-past 40th birthday?

Ah, I don't mean this to be "all resentment, all the time". Just venting. And sick. And since I seem to have no voice again, this is my only outlet. He's a good man, just lacking in priorities. Although he did shovel the walk already this morning ...

At least someone is sleeping ...

In sickness and in health

2006-02-09T16:12:00.000-05:00

What can I say? I'm sick. That's as good an excuse as any for not writing. Yeah, a nice fat cold which started in my throat and is now threatening my lungs. I wonder why I got sick ... working with sick people? Nah. Infant in daycare? Nah. Stress? hmmmm, mebbe a little.
Coughing is a joy, especially seeing as I'm co-sleeping and it wakes the bambino up. Fortunately Imri has not contracted it ...yet. Thank you, breastmilk. Today however, he has been fairly cranky and unhappy.

Now the cranky could be related to one of two things: 1)he's getting my cold or 2)he's getting some teeth. Yes, boys and girls, it looks like Imri has started the teething process. He has had copious amounts of drool lately, has taken a great liking to chomping on his hands, has a bit of a drool rash and this morning I noticed that on his bottom gum, he had two reddish-pink swollen spots where his number 2 incisors~~are~~will be. It seems that the number 1 incisors usually come in first - but not always - so this may just be part of the process or it may be the real mcdeal.

We shall see. He has taken to making hungry faces at me, then when I put him to the breast, crying and sometimes screaming. And then sometimes he doesn't and he eats just fine. So while thoughts of "ear infection" are dancing in my head, he isn't fitting the pattern completely. Also, no fever or ear pulling. And he's not stuffed up or acting congested, either although he is coughing more - which is more than likely directly related to the teething bit. Not to mention the very smelly gift he bestowed upon me earlier. But for the most part he has been his usual sunshiny self.

Damn - which part of all that diagnoses is nursing school and which part is my degree in Medical Googology?

The nice part of being sick - and there are those who will think that I am either masochistic in the extreme or insane - or both - is that I get to stay home with my son. I always thought I'd be a bear of little patience if I ever got sick and had to care for an infant too, but I've truly surprised myself. Motherhood is just full of nice surprises. Hey, I may be becoming a better person, despite the odds. Who would have thunk it?

Daycare is going well, so far. He still doesn't sleep or eat as much there as he does at home, which sort of messes up his schedule - but then the other night after daycare, he fell asleep in his car seat at 6pm and slept the night away. Lest you get excited, let me remind you that part and parcel of "slept the night away" is "waking every 2-3 hours to eat".
Yes, that brief period where he slept 6 hours at a stretch seems to have ended - I'm hoping only for a short while. Imri has also taken to using my boob as a pacifier at night - so my call goes out to all co-sleeping-breastfeeding-Birkenstock-wearing(ok, that last part is optional) mammas who may know what I can do to nip this behaviour in the ...er... bud. Cause I'm not getting any sleep and mama needs her sleep.

Oh yes I do. Coughing, hacking and all.

A daycare update

2006-02-04T10:00:00.000-05:00

Imri's first couple of days at the new daycare went well all things considered. He was the first infant there in the morning - they can take 9 and there are 7 FT spots, 2 PT, he is one of the PT kiddos.

I stayed for about an hour +, fed him, "showed him around", made his crib (I wanted to), stocked "his" drawer, talked to the providers about my concerns, changed him, etc. I had typed up a whole page of "what Imri likes" stuff (yeah, I'm that kind of mom) but had forgotten it at home (!!) so I sort of went over everything.

I left him lying on his playmat, happy. I kissed him goodbye and tried not to show him my tears - ran out of there like a bat out of hell before he could see me sobbing. I called 2-3 hours later (it took ALL my reserves not to call sooner)and heard him crying pretty hard - he was hungry and they hadn't gotten to him soon enough. K, one of the senior staff and the early morning person said that other then that he had been doing very well, so I hung up slightly heavy-hearted that he sounded unhappy.

I got a call just before my lunch break from daycare ... my heart lurched when I saw the name on caller ID. I've had too many saying "come get him" and I thought the worst. But M, his primary daycare lady was just calling to say "I know you've been worried but I wanted you to know he's doing great! He even slept in his crib!" (he doesn't at home!)

I was so happy and so delighted she went out of her way to call me. That really impressed me and put my heart at ease.

Now given, he didn't have a really long nap in the afternoon the way he does with me and he didn't eat as much as usual, but that's pretty normal for first day, I think.
All in all - it was a really good first day! I am so relieved, as is John who picked him up.

And Imri slept in his crib the next morning for his mommy too - and again in the evening. I was delighted.

The second day went much as the first. This time I remembered to bring his "instruction sheet". I hope they don't think I'm out of line for typing it up, but I wanted them to get a sense of who he is, his likes and dislikes, etc. I included the following paragraph:

Please don't allow Imri to cry for long periods of time. It goes against my parenting philosophy and what I feel is best for my son. He is a very happy boy and usually only cries if he is hungry or being ignored. He loves to play, is very alert and curious and is happiest when someone is playing and laughing with him.

Is that obnoxious? I don't think so. Anyway ...

Imri is currently the youngest there, which is nice because he gets a bit more one-on-one. There are two senior staff and one aide for a total of 9 babies, although I don't think that they usually have all nine at once. M, the younger of the two senior staff has been very good with Imri, while K, the older one dotes on him but she's - and I don't mean this to be unkind - she's not the sharpest knife in the drawer. For example, when I left him the other day I mentioned to her that he was doing his "I'm hungry" thing (he sticks his tongue out) and even though I had just fed him, he would probably need more. Well, she didn't feed him until he was all worked up so he had a crying fit - and this happened on both days. An ounce of prevention, etc etc. Nice lady but not quick on the uptake.

I guess I'll reiterate on Monday. Imri had one of his blowout poops Friday - he only poops every 2-3 days. I'm sure they appreciated that. That'll show em for not feeding him fast enough :)

He's eating pretty well for them but not sleeping the way he does for me - it's noisy and he can't snuggle up with mom. He only had a couple of very short naps yesterday and was exhausted when I got home around 6pm. John had just fed him but was doing little to get him sleepy - he had him in his lap, facing the TV. I don't know how many times I have to say "TV is not the right thing for him". But I digress.

So that's the story so far. I've kept my phone calls to two each day and John has been picking Imri up as he can get to him earlier than I can - we also found out it's very near to where he parks the car for his carpool - so it works out well that way. It also keeps me off the bad parts of I-270 (ok ok, the worsest bad parts)in the morning.

John mentioned something like "If it works out, you'll be able to go back full-time soon". Right. Not gonna happen, so sorry. Maybe if he stopped purchasing golf stuff, we'd have more cash. I'm just sayin' ...

Hell if I know

2006-01-29T07:58:00.000-05:00

what happened. I don't know why all of the sudden the blog went to "moderated comments". Likely it's something I did, but heck if I know how or when. It's back to normal now. I was wondering why no one had anything to say about the last entry. I'm so glad to find out that you like me! You really like me!

So this is the deal: I'm exhausted. What else is new?

Work is suddenly being nice to me. You see, another full time nurse quit last Friday, leaving them high and dry. Suddenly they realize - they need me. Badly. There is a nursing shortage and their ads have brought in zilch. So my boss is working with me and indeed gave me last Friday off for the daycare search. She's also agreed to give me half of this Monday off.

I have a long memory for crap like that. I am a very hard-working (always)and loyal employee (when treated right) so I figure turnabout is fair play. Just wait till I have my green card.

As for daycare: I have called and emailed and visited and networked more daycares in the last week than a person should. I found one in particular where I loved the woman who runs it (in-home) and Imri adored her - she was so good with him. Unfortunately, she's full - she thought she might have an opening because one child might not be working out but he may have turned the corner now. Not that I'd wish misfortune on another parent, but I was really hoping that it would work out. I had such a good feeling about this place and about her. She will have an opening in November and she is keeping us in mind. November. *sigh*. But it's fairly close to my work now, who knows where I'll be in November.

I found a larger centre that seemed all right but it was very expensive. You see, most places won't do part-time infant care, so you have to pay for full-time. This centre wanted $280 dollars. A week. Heh. That's nothing. Kinder C@re wanted $335. And they weren't impressive. Not that I begrudge them money for caring for my child but still - when I compare to prices paid by friends in areas that don't get "Montgomery county tax" - well, it's very high.

So I kept looking and finally found a centre in Monrovia (does "Monrovia" sound Sherlock Holmes-ish or is it just me?) which is a tad out of the way but they want far less and it's in a more rural setting with a huge back yard. I'm still not 100% happy - when I walked in, one of the caregivers for the older kids was sitting reading a magazine rather than playing with kids, etc. Not a great sign. But she's not in the infant area and I don't think Imri will be there long enough to fall ~~into her shrewish clutches~~into her care. The other caregivers seemed nice enough - it's country, so not terribly educated but hey, there are more important things. I guess.

I also have a big fear of him being left in a crib for hours. I will have to do some stealth visits, I think - there were a number of babies in their cribs when I arrived. I am going to be very specific with them, as they are watching my child and I am paying their wages - I spoke to the director who was a very lovely young woman and she assured me that there would be no long crib stays but I stayed up half last night worrying. At this stage I'm unsure as to whether I'm just worried or whether it's my gut.

Anyway, I'm going to continue my search for excellence (I've long since given up on perfection)in daycare. Thank you all for your support and offers of help - I wish I lived closer to any number of you. If you do know of great daycare somewhere up the I-270 corridor between Frederick and Montgomery counties, please email me? And to the anon poster who offered help with immigration stuff - could you email me too please? kinneretb@gmail.com

Yeah, gmail has awesome spam filters. I'm not afraid. And btw, if you want a gmail account, email me - I have about 85 left to give away. It puts all the other free email accounts to shame. I love me some gmail.

So there you have it. We start Wednesday. I'll keep you posted.

Oh yeah, it gets better:

2006-01-22T20:47:00.000-05:00

I got to work on Friday and my boss told me that I either work my full shifts as scheduled or I have no job. I stared at her. And reminded her that I have only been back a week (4 scheduled days) and she basically told me "too bad".

Nursing and medicine. The caring professions. Yeah.

The moment I have residency paperwork in my hot little hands I am finding another job. Any company that has such little compassion for an obviously struggling and overwhelmed new mom can go fuck themselves. That's assuming I still work for them when that occurs.

So, I may have no job shortly as I currently have no daycare. The woman I was using looked "surprised" when I stopped in to pick up Imri's stuff on Friday. I told her that she was unkind to leave me without notice and she then said that I was welcome to use her for this next week. As if. No thanks.

Two friends; one from work and another - a sweet woman who I met via the Resolve bulletin boards -are watching Imri Monday and Wednesday respectively. I am so very very VERY thankful and grateful to them both. I just hope it goes well, because if it doesn't, I have no job.

On Friday, John will stay home with Imri and watch him. That is if I still have a job.

I called my mother yesterday in complete crying hysterics and I actually heard the words "mommy, please come" leave my lips. No joke. I haven't called her "mommy" in over 20 years. That's how stressed out I am. She would love to come but my dad isn't doing so well. I know it hurts her that she can't come - she drives me crazy but sometimes you need your mommy. Kind of like Imri does now.

My parents have offered to help a little with my visa paperwork (they are on fixed income and don't have much cash at all)and want me to hire a lawyer. I think it's a fine idea, I just need to find one. Anyone out there an immigration lawyer or know one?

I checked a daycare center out on Friday afternoon - I hate seeing kids lying in cribs with nothing to do. I don't want that for my baby, especially not for Imri who has made it clear that he needs attention. And they told me they wouldn't call me if he cried a lot - which worries me. I mean, I know he's going to cry. I just don't want him crying so hard that he works himself into a sweat. Is this unreasonable of me? I don't know anymore. I just don't want him that upset for hours on end.

So, I am going to check out a bunch more on Tuesday. One other may know if they have an opening tomorrow, I need to call. Oh, and did I mention the phone call with the daycare provider who told me in her raspy cigarette-hoarse voice that she loved babies because "they don't talk"?

Yeah.

I won't be using her.

On the good news front - Imri's jumparoo came (another Ebay conquest). He's in love.

Hey, I'll take small victories these days.

sigh

2006-01-19T09:31:00.000-05:00

I called my boss and broached this with her:

Tomorrow I will drop Imri off at daycare as per usual, but will go back around 10, nurse and snuggle him for 30 minutes, then try to work for another 2 hours. She agreed to it but was hesitant "How long do you think you will keep on doing this?".

I wish I knew. That's what I told her, too. It's not as if I could even just let him cry (if I wanted to) - Daycare won't do it. She has other kids and is too busy.

My boss told me that was fine, we would try it tomorrow but she needs to re-evaluate whether she can keep me. Yeah. Nursing - the caring profession. Not that I don't understand where she's coming from nor am I ungrateful for what she's done so far, but hell, we've only been doing this for the last week. Give me a break. He's THREE MONTHS OLD, for chrissakes. Why are people so mean?

How I long for Canada - this is so damned unfair and stressful. Do I have any legal recourse if they fire me for something like this?

So, I may not only be losing my daycare but my job, too. I have never been terminated from a job in my life. And I can't get another one without a new visa but I can't get a new visa until I file my residency papers ... and on and on. And if that happens, we may lose our home, because we won't be able to pay all our bills and our mortgage too.

I am so beyond stressed that words don't even begin to describe it. No wonder my psoriasis is through the roof. Only I can't use anything on it because I'm breastfeeding.

I'd type more but I'm crying too hard. Sorry.

Yeah. I wanna hide too.

Update
Daycare called. Tomorrow will be Imri's last day there. She can't handle it - he needs me, she says. It's too painful for her and him. She won't do the two hour thing. She hopes I can be a SAHM.

I don't even know what to say.

Daycare saga - aka the neverending story

2006-01-18T17:08:00.000-05:00

Imri was very good on the - wait for it - one hour and one half commute this morning. One and a half hours because Marylanders don't know how to drive in the rain. *sigh*. He slept most of the way, the other part he remained mesmerized by the rear window windshield wiper. Thank you, Hyund@i.
We got to daycare and got settled. I nursed him and left him at 7:50 on Daycare's knee, a happy boy.

At 9:00, the woman who had given me Daycare's name came by and told me she had seen Imri - he had been sort of crying but consolable. She had picked him up and played with him, then settled him in his bouncy seat and he seemed happy.

Around 9:30 I started to look at the clock.

At 10:30 my cellphone rang. I could hear him screaming in the background. Daycare said "He's been crying like this for 30 minutes. I tried to wait him out - he even took 2 oz of EBM but he is sweating from crying so hard. Please come."

I left after apologizing profusely to my unhappy boss. Imri was still crying when I got there, but those heaving tired cries, not the screams I had heard earlier over the phone. It took some time to get him settled - his eyes were swollen with fatigue and tears.

Daycare said he wouldn't nap. She bounced him, rocked him, held him, tried to lie down with him as she had seen me do - when she was with her own daughter, Daycare's mom did the same - no luck. She said he had been held almost non-stop since he arrived. He wouldn't nap. Only ate a little. Was inconsolable.

I settled him to eat as she spoke and he attacked my breast as a person starved. Listening to this I started to cry. I really don't know what to do anymore - my boss is unhappy, my daycare provider is unhappy, my husband is unhappy, everyone seems to think I'm a lousy mom for whatever reason and most importantly of all, my son is unhappy.

I am stuck. I would switch to a different job such as a night shift or weekends in the hospital, but I can't switch jobs (because of my visa status )until I file my residency papers which I am working on, but it will take some time. We need the money from my job to pay our bills, so SAHM is sadly not an option. I work fairly far away from where I live, which poses problems for having an in-home nanny, or for finding daycare closer to home. My husband works even farther away from home. We have no family in the area - my entire family is in Canada and John's is spread out across Maryland - and his mother, who lives close to where he works (and would love to watch Imri)is currently in hospital, having her other leg amputated because of diabetes and heart disease. She already lost the one leg a couple of years ago.

Imri is sitting beside me right now in his bouncy seat, yelling at the starfish that keeps spinning round and round. When I look at him, he looks up at me with a huge grin and laughs delightedly. We converse for a while (mostly laaa!! and hoo! and eeeeeeees and aaaaaaaaaaahhhhs)and he laughs some more, then proceeds to tell the kissing fish to get a room in an increasingly loud voice, much to my amusement.

I just wish I could make him as happy as he is right now, when he's at his daycare.

And thank you to all you nice folks that dropped in from Ask Moxie - I really do appreciate all input and advice, please keep it coming.

One step forward, 2 steps backward

2006-01-17T15:44:00.000-05:00

Thank you all so much for delurking. If I had any money, I would donate to somewhere, but right now we're tapped. Sorry. Thanks for the shout-out though.

The weekend went well. Imri took a bottle from John while I was out grocery shopping - with protest, but he took the full 3 oz and wanted more when I got home. We entered Monday with great hope.

Hope came and left when my cell phone rang at work around 10:30 am. Imri is inconsolable, crying and screaming, won't take a bottle even a little bit. I asked her to try for 10-15 more minutes - she did and called me back. Nada. I went to pick him up and he was so upset. It took me quite a while to settle him.

3 hours at work. Hey, it's one more than two hours.

Daycare is stressed about him and his "neediness". Her 9 week old eats and goes to sleep for 2-3 hours at a stretch. Imri has never done that - ever. She said "we will reassess on Friday"

Work isn't happy either and I can't blame them.

I really don't know what to do and have asked Moxie and the Internets for advice. Anyone??

One of the women from my Resolve bulletin board told me that her mom ran a daycare and she fully expected the first couple of weeks with a new baby to be rough, especially if the baby is the more sensitive type. She said that baby would need a lot more holding and a lot more help with the bottle, etc - that is was to be expected. I thought so too, but maybe it's just too much for Daycare to handle with her own infant being so young.

Shit. I think I'll be looking for a new daycare center soon. Shit.

Wish us luck tomorrow.

Is it still "de-lurk" week in blogland?

2006-01-14T07:04:00.000-05:00

I'd love to hear from some of you lurkers ... who are you? Where are you reading from? I know there are a fair amount of you (the stats don't lie, baby) but rarely do y'all ever comment. This is your chance to say "hi, it's me!". Go for it.

And an update ...

I took Imri into daycare on Thursday and just stayed with him there for a few hours. Daycare lady didn't really involve herself. She stayed nearby and watched, talked and cooed at him but let me play with him in her home so he could get used to everything. We then went into work and I talked to my boss who, while unhappy about the state of affairs because they do need me there, was wonderful and is working with me to make this work out. So it feels like a win-win situation (because I have to work, which sucks - I'd rather be a SAHM but I digress)which lowers my stress tremendously.

Yesterday I took him in as well, stayed for about 1.5 hours, then went into work with the hopes of staying 2 hours and helping out with lunch relief. It worked out well for all involved, Imri included. DL was going to call if he got very upset but ... he did well. He napped for her after she rocked/bounced him which was great. He only ate 2 oz but then he does snack and for the most part, he remained happy. Monday and Wednesday we will try from 8-12 but I will bring him in a bit earlier to settle him.

It's a gradual thing and it's working for his mommy, too. I may have to stick to 4-8 hour shifts at first, but we'll see. And I will give my husband kudos for saying "we will do whatever needs to be done, don't worry about it" because I really needed to hear that from him.

My mom agree with EVERYTHING I did. A sign of the coming Apocalypse, boys and girls. Prepare now and don't say you weren't warned.

Imri is 3 months old today. Oh, have I mentioned that Imri is wearing some size 6-9 month stuff????? And that he can put his feet on the bottom of the exersaucer so it's now fair game? And that he loves his "t|ny love" activity gym (and so do I)? And how vocal Imri is becoming, with very distinct cries for hunger ("ahhni" - is it just proud momma or does that sound suspiciously like "hungry", which is what I always ask him ... "are you hungry"?)and for just general pissed-offed-ness ("laaaaa")?? He is so alert and involved with the world around him, it's wonderful! And that I got a bunch of cool toys off a lady who lives nearby (she advertised on Craigslist and her son is 2-ish and it turned out as we were chatting that she suffered from infertility and had to do multiple IUIs?

I tell ya, we're everywhere. Be vewy vewy afwaid. And please delurk?

My not-so-good, bad to terrible, awful first daycare day

2006-01-11T16:28:00.000-05:00

I was as organized as a stressed mommy at 5 am could be today - John helped me pack up the SUV with all the stuff I needed; diaper bag, diapers, misc. medications, onesies and wipes for the daycare, favourite bouncy seat and activity gym, my backpack with pump, bottles and hands-free bra, extra uniform, lunch bag, bag with bottles and frozen EBM ... IOW, everything possible.

Traffic wasn't great by the time we hit the road around 6:15 and we got to daycare around 7:15 just as Imri was getting fussy. I nursed him and held him and snuggled him and then fled before I completely broke down in front of him. I got to work around 8:00 after sobbing hysterically on the phone to John.

9:20 my cell phone rings. Daycare says Imri has been screaming inconsolably for 20-25 minutes, they have tried everything and will I please come? I tell the charge nurse and take off.

I get to the daycare - he has stopped crying but is fussy and miserable. He doesn't even smile when he sees me but clings to me. Daycare says he was fine for the first while, played in his bouncy seat, was laughing with the "big girls" (4y.o.) but then started fussing - he wouldn't eat, wouldn't play, wouldn't sleep. She rocked him, bounced him, tried everything and he continued to scream ... until she hung up the phone from talking to me. She said "It was as if he knew you were on the way". He took 1 oz of EBM, but that was it.
My poor baby's eyes were swollen with tears and fatigue. He was SO tired and SO upset. I tried nursing him down but he would hardly eat and every time I laid him in the PNP, he would wake after 2-3 minutes crying. There was no consoling him at all.

Daycare and I decided that it was best to call it quits for today - I am going to bring him by tomorrow (we are supposed to be M-W-F) for a couple of hours, at which point I have to go in and talk to work, and see if we can work something out for the next several days as we try and ease Imri into progressively longer days at daycare.

I started packing up my stuff- he started crying as soon as I handed him to Daycare. It's not her - she's lovely - he just doesn't want to be away from his mommy. As soon as I had him in the car seat, he looked up at me, closed his eyes and went to sleep.

We're home now (although we had a power outage since noon) and he's much happier - he wouldn't let me put him down at first, but now that we've had a good cuddle, nap and feed, he's a much happier boy. He's such a sunshiny kid to begin with ... for him to cry like that means he was really unhappy and I will NOT let him CIO at 12 weeks.
Some of the girls at work said "you're spoiling him" ... well, I don't agree. I don't believe that letting young babies cry and cry and cry is the right thing to do (that's how I feel, others may disagree). I know my son better than anyone does - I knew this was going to be a difficult day because I didn't - and don't - think he's ready for daycare. But we need the money from my work.

Anyway, hopefully work will be understanding and let me do some half days as we ease Imri into this new arrangement, otherwise someone else better volunteer to pay the mortgage.

I can just hear my mother tonight when she calls to see how the day went ... "well, if you had just left him outside for a while ..."

Nipple nipple, who's got the nipple?

2006-01-09T20:40:00.000-05:00

Imri took a bottle from me and from John yesterday - I had gone out and purchased #2 @vent nipples in the hopes that it would work better than what we had ... and it did. Much rejoicing resounded throughout the land.

Today I confidently attempted a repeat. All he'll do is gum it. John is trying right now with the same results. *sigh*. I really don't know what to do. And I just bought a good-sized lot of @vent bottles and nipples off of Ebay. Ah well.

Imri's been hanging off my tits today. Seriously, the kid hasn't stopped and oh boy, are my nipples sore. I'm guessing 3 month growth spurt. Which would explain his needing to eat frequently through the night lately after a brief (and much enjoyed) jaunt of 4-5 hours of sleep at once. Oh well.

I hardly slept last night as I lay in bed, looking at my sleeping son (and husband) between 1 and 4 am. Sleep finally came around 5, when John rose but by then it was too late - time to rise and shine with early-riser boy. I'm pretty darn tired tonight, add to it that John came home late because his mom is in hospital, and Jr had been his shmucky teen self (caught him lying again) and I'm plum worn out. I'm sure the reason for my lack of sleep is my meeting Sunday with the daycare person.

Daycare (and work) start Wednesday. She and Imri got along although he was fussy with her. He's been more fussy than normal of late (definitely growth spurt stuff). I'm still (and so is she) worried about the eating thing. I don't know what to make of it at all - he took it twice in a certain kind of bottle and nipple, then no more. Then twice more with the new stuff ... and no more. Both frozen EBM and freshly expressed stuff. Maybe it's just coincidence. I'm sans answers. Maybe it's the growth spurt thing but I honestly don't know.

I don't want him to starve at daycare (thank you all for your input on this) and my kid being the stubborn boy he is (what, you think he inherited that from me??) might just go on strike. Fortunately, I work 10 minutes from the daycare, but still ...

And yes, of course in some small (or not so small) part of me, I really hope he doesn't take the bottle at all and I have to stay home with him. Absolutely I do. Don't be silly. Gods, I'm tired.

(Do you think I have enough parenthesis in this entry?)

and a Happy New Year

2006-01-05T08:12:00.000-05:00

A small story from the other day - I ambitiously took Imri grocery shopping. Not a quick in and out, either ... but a serious order. He started fussing about 1/4 of the way through. I took him out of his carseat and held a nearly 15 lb baby in one arm, pushed the cart with the other. That was much fun and lasted until he got very hungry. He refused the bottle of cool breastmilk I foisted upon him, no matter how I tried. He got fussier and fussier, angrier and angrier and progressively more vocal about his situation.

Three quarters of the way through the Gi@nt Eagle found me in the paper goods aisle, sitting with half my butt gingerly parked on the shelving between large packages of B0unty paper towels, my shopping cart piled high with groceries and partially in front of me, obscuring the view as I breastfed my son.

The only thing that surprised me were the nice comments I got from some moms that walked by, smiled and basically said "you do what you have to do!". I was positive some mean soul was going to get nasty and do a mommy-drive-by, but I was pleasantly surprised at the support offered. And Imri was delighted at the availability of warm breast milk. There you have it.

We've been trying to get Imri used to his crib and its been hit or miss. Miss, mostly. The young man in question does NOT like being separated from his mommy. And daycare starts next week *insert howl of anguish from mommy here*.

Last night, Imri had his bath, then ate (only one side), fell asleep in my arms and I put him in the crib. That lasted 20 minutes. So, more rocking, he ate much more, singing, etc. Another 10 minutes. Then finally he went down for about an hour. I rejoiced but still ...that brought us to 11:30pm.

Considering that the night before he had us up every 15 minutes on the hour till 1am and the couple of nights before that weren't much better, I considered myself lucky and dragged my sorry and exhausted carcass to bed, avec my son, fed him and we both crashed. I guess I'll just keep trying to push it later and later. John hasn't been helping much over the last couple of nights because of the &^#%*@ college football games. Oh and his new DVD recorder/new computer. Whatever. I'm not doing this alone.

Yeah, you may be hearing some bitter. The husbandly one and I are having some issues, especially regarding his coping mechanisms which seem to be on a short fuse usually and more so of late. Not to mention the lack of smoking cessation. And, it seems the shorter fuse = more smoking than usual. And butts left on our driveway to multiply. In general, his shorter fuse makes me unhappy - I feel like I'm walking on eggshells some days and I don't like it, neither am I impressed.
Add to his smoking, the abundant family history of diabetes and heart disease (serious heart disease), as well as his eating habits - and hey, I feel like he's throwing away our years together. And if you read this (he usually doesn't venture here) my love, that hurts me beyond my ability to tell you without causing us further grief.
The following is an open letter to the love of my life. SKIP DOWN if you don't want to read my maudlin diatribe.

You are my sweetheart, my beloved. We got a late start on this love thing, you and I, which makes the time we have together all the more precious. You are the reason for so much of the happiness in my life. I love you with all that I am, and what I'm seeing you do to yourself hurts. You are killing yourself and I say this as your wife and as an RN.

I want to grow old with you. I want us to watch our son grow into the amazing and wonderful young man we know he is going to be, get married (if he so chooses) and have children - our grandkids - and for you to actually be there to revel in that sweet joy. And I want to be able to love YOU. Not your memory, not what we had, but you in the flesh and blood, even if we're both wrinkled, crinkled and scratchy. I don't want my senior years filled with visits to your headstone.

Yes, this diatribe is full of "I" statements, but it's you who is being selfish ... Imri needs his dad and I need my husband. And I am filled with fear, true fear, that I am losing you. Maybe not today or tomorrow but someday far far too soon for us.

I don't like airing our dirty laundry in public but I need to get it out somehow without either of us getting angry and defensive. I've suggested joint counseling and you've shot that down but I don't know what else to do to reach you and tell you how worried and scared I am. This is not exaggerating, sweetheart and deep in your heart, you know that what I am saying is true. I love you so much - please don't do this to yourself and to us. Please quit smoking. Please.

OK, END DIATRIBE.

On to other and better things - Imri has found his hands. This realization has helped him sleep in the crib unattended, I believe. He can self-soothe a bit now so I am quite happy. And on the "other" and not "better" - daycare starts next week when I return to work. Ack. We are meeting the daycare provider this Sunday in her home, just the three of us. It will let her get to know him, etc. However ...

Small problems with the whole daycare issue are these:
1. He doesn't sleep well alone and he still startles readily.
2. He won't take a pacifier.
3. He has stopped taking the bottle. (I went out and bought some new/other nipples, hth)
4. He likes being held. A lot. and he really likes interacting with people, not so much with his activity mat.
5. He's a snacker. Doesn't usually go for long feeds.

I think my kid is gonna fail daycare. Oy.
Thoughts? Ideas? Suggestions?

Found my hands!

Happiness

Out cold after a long fun-filled day

Happy Chanukah!

2005-12-28T09:13:00.000-05:00

From all of us at Chez Chaos.

Under the letter O for "obvious"

2005-12-25T08:17:00.000-05:00

Do not hold baby above your face as if "flying" right after feeding said baby.

See also: "oops",

See also: P for "projectile", V for "vomit" and &^@%#*.

Five things about me

2005-12-23T08:04:00.000-05:00

As I mentioned previously, the gorgeous and talented Daytagged me with a meme, requesting that I share 5 things about me.

Five things. Man, I'm gonna have to dig deep, especially seeing as she did such a great job - and has such an interesting life. I am not so sure I do ...er... at least not stuff I want the general public to know about. But here goes.

1. I spent two years in the Israeli Army on the West Bank. All politics aside, it was probably one of the better times of my life.

2. I love food and find it extremely sensual. John says that my motto should be "life is too short for bad food and bad coffee". I'd take a serious cooking class if I could afford to do so. Unfortunately, I don't often have the time to cook as I would like - and besides, my husband thinks Kraft dinner (Mac and cheese to the Americans) is haute cuisine.

3. I am very pro-choice. Having found myself knocked up at the tender age of 16 and having to be "interviewed" by a committee of 3 men who had the right to decide whether or not I could have an abortion, opened my eyes to the lack of rights that women had - and have - regarding their own bodies and reproductive rights. Sadly, I find those rights - rights we have fought so hard for over the last several years - are being eroded in the USA. It makes me madder than I can say and my regret is that I don't have the money nor the time (nor the vote - yet)to devote to making my voice heard more loudly. Makes me question whether I should bother filling out those US citizenship papers.

4. I wish I was a kinder, more graceful and more patient person. I often wish I was more of a lot of things.

5. I never thought parenting would be so utterly wonderful. Yeah, it's hard. But I don't care. I never thought I could love someone as much as I love and adore my son. I never thought that I'd want to be a SAHM and definitely never thought I'd be nigh-hysterical at the thought of having to leave my boy with someone else.

Maybe that's more than 5 ... but there you have it.

In case I don't get back here on time, a happy and joyous holiday season to all my readers. Who knew last year, when we were in the depths of despair after another miscarriage that this year would bring Imri into our arms? I can never ever say "I'm not a lucky person" ever again.

Happy Hanukkah!!