Posted outside one of the rollercoasters at the amusement park.
I can ride, no recent surgrys here.
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Monday, August 04, 2008
Lingerie
An invitation arrived in the mail. A Lingerie Shower.
The intention of a bridal shower is to aid the newlywed couple as they establish their own home The lingerie concept enables the bride to ditch her old, tattered, worn-out undergarments for pretty, new ones. Afterall, the new hubby will soon be privy to every hidden article of clothing his lovely bride could previously hide.
Or do young ladies today not keep tattered underwear and desire more, um, exotic under clothes and night wear? Years ago, we had two choices in underwear: briefs or bikini cut. That's it. With such variety, I figured I should ask what the preference might be. Surely there could be no embarrassment. The invitation already listed a bra & panty size. But wait, maybe the groom should get an opinion. I sent a text message to my son, Christopher.
"I know this is awkward, but I'm going shopping for Lauren's Lingerie Shower. Do you have any preference?" I waited for his reply.
"Mom. There is no way I'm going to discuss lingerie preferences with you."
I laughed and laughed. I suppose this is not unlike the shocking realization that your parents have had sex at least once in their lives.
The intention of a bridal shower is to aid the newlywed couple as they establish their own home The lingerie concept enables the bride to ditch her old, tattered, worn-out undergarments for pretty, new ones. Afterall, the new hubby will soon be privy to every hidden article of clothing his lovely bride could previously hide.
Or do young ladies today not keep tattered underwear and desire more, um, exotic under clothes and night wear? Years ago, we had two choices in underwear: briefs or bikini cut. That's it. With such variety, I figured I should ask what the preference might be. Surely there could be no embarrassment. The invitation already listed a bra & panty size. But wait, maybe the groom should get an opinion. I sent a text message to my son, Christopher.
"I know this is awkward, but I'm going shopping for Lauren's Lingerie Shower. Do you have any preference?" I waited for his reply.
"Mom. There is no way I'm going to discuss lingerie preferences with you."
I laughed and laughed. I suppose this is not unlike the shocking realization that your parents have had sex at least once in their lives.
Friday, August 01, 2008
Kitchen In A Bubble
My kitchen in its transformation stage:
After Day 2, I wished I'd gotten more things out of my cupboards. After Day , I wanted in my refrigerator. Today, I'm disappointed that I won't have my kitchen back until next week. Sigh. It will be a long weekend.
After Day 2, I wished I'd gotten more things out of my cupboards. After Day , I wanted in my refrigerator. Today, I'm disappointed that I won't have my kitchen back until next week. Sigh. It will be a long weekend.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Thunk Thursday
This is blurry, so in case you can't read it-this is a "Nail Dry Station"
1. To start, place hands in dryer.
(I'll place mine under, thank-you.)
4. Fan will shut off automatically when you move out of your hands...
(As soon as I figure out how to get out of my hands, I'll let you know if it stops.)
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Christopher's Birth Story.
Back around July 11th, I promised to tell Christopher's birth story. I'm finally getting around to it.
Twenty-four years ago, I was expecting my second child. We'd moved to Colorado and I was feeling very far away from family. On April 1st, at 26 weeks, we shared the happy news with our parents. Shortly thereafter, my parents revealed their own surprise. They were about to embark on a 2 year teaching assignment to Germany. The plan was for them to leave the beginning of August. My baby was due July 5th.
Knowing they'd miss his first couple of years, my parents flew out for his birth. A week later, taking 3 year old Christina with them, my parents flew home. No baby. Three days later, my inlaws brought Christina back to wait for Christopher to be born.
I went to the doctor July 10th. He declared I was ready and could have the baby anytime. I was dilated to 4 cm. That was good news, but still no baby. The next morning, after having contractions for 2 days straight, I decided I was tired of waiting. At 9:00a.m., we headed to the hospital.
Surprise. I was 4 cm. dilated. Nothing had changed. My doctor, who likes things done in a timely fashion, assured me that by breaking my water, I'd have the baby quickly. I was hesitant. I couldn't help but think how cushy that bag of water was. Once that nice water pillow was popped, the cushion was gone. It would be bone against bone. NOT my idea of comfort. I yielded anyway. I wanted the baby born.
Just as I thought. The contraction following the bursting of my water bag was very painful. The next one was worse. And oh my, I couldn't take it anymore. Doctor Snyder suggested I get an epidural. I remembered the Demerol from my 1st labor. No, no, no he convincingly said, this is completely different. This doesn't just take the edge off. This magical drug will cause you to completely relax and feel no pain.
I was skeptical. If that was true, why didn't I get one before.?I trusted my doctor and I was desperate. I gave in to his offer for relief. I waited for this wonder drug to kick in and provide some calm before the storm. I waited. And waited. My peace never arrived.
Instead, I believe the drug put my baby in distress. His heartrate began dropping.
The oxygen mask went over my face. The room quickly filled with people. I have no idea who they all were. Students? Doctors? I don't know, but I felt like I was center stage at some fancy theatrical performance only I wasn't properly dressed. I was poked, prodded, twisted and contorted to find a place that "baby was happy." I was ordered to begin pushing.
I pushed with all I had. Some woman had the audacity to tell my I wasn't trying hard enough. She said I wasn't holding my breath and wanted another person to "help" me hold my breath. I was in tears. Everything hurt. I felt like I wasn't going to make it. My doctor said, "we need to get this baby out NOW!" With that, he proceeded to perform another lovely procedure-an episiotomy. I had no problem with this, except when he went to cut, YEOW!!!! He was certain I wasn't really feeling pain. I only thought I was feeling pain because I could see what he was doing. They put a drape up so I wouldn't know when he was making the cut.
Nope, that was not the problem. I think when I screamed, he believed me and numbed the area before he continued. As soon as he was done, he grabbed the forceps and attempted to pull my baby out. As he pulled, I felt as if something was turning me inside out. I cannot describe the intense pain. Not being able to get a good enough grip, the doctor added metal extenders onto the forceps. I wish I had a photo, as I sometimes have a hard time believing this really happened. Michael later told me he was very scared. As he watched the doctor tug, twist, and pull, he feared his baby's head would pop right off.
At 4:56p.m my son appeared. His face and head were quite bruised, but he was in one piece. Christopher was born 7/11/84 and weighed 7lbs 7 oz.
Shortly after Christopher's birth, I went numb from the waist down. Nice, but a little too late. I was told by my nurse that my doctor was out in the hall chewing out the anesthesiologist who'd conveniently disappeared after my failed epidural. The following day he told me the birth had been difficult but he'd worked with me since I'd been so adamant against a c-section. "But"he added, "I'd never do it again." I think he was as traumatized as we were.
Twenty-four years ago, I was expecting my second child. We'd moved to Colorado and I was feeling very far away from family. On April 1st, at 26 weeks, we shared the happy news with our parents. Shortly thereafter, my parents revealed their own surprise. They were about to embark on a 2 year teaching assignment to Germany. The plan was for them to leave the beginning of August. My baby was due July 5th.
Knowing they'd miss his first couple of years, my parents flew out for his birth. A week later, taking 3 year old Christina with them, my parents flew home. No baby. Three days later, my inlaws brought Christina back to wait for Christopher to be born.
I went to the doctor July 10th. He declared I was ready and could have the baby anytime. I was dilated to 4 cm. That was good news, but still no baby. The next morning, after having contractions for 2 days straight, I decided I was tired of waiting. At 9:00a.m., we headed to the hospital.
Surprise. I was 4 cm. dilated. Nothing had changed. My doctor, who likes things done in a timely fashion, assured me that by breaking my water, I'd have the baby quickly. I was hesitant. I couldn't help but think how cushy that bag of water was. Once that nice water pillow was popped, the cushion was gone. It would be bone against bone. NOT my idea of comfort. I yielded anyway. I wanted the baby born.
Just as I thought. The contraction following the bursting of my water bag was very painful. The next one was worse. And oh my, I couldn't take it anymore. Doctor Snyder suggested I get an epidural. I remembered the Demerol from my 1st labor. No, no, no he convincingly said, this is completely different. This doesn't just take the edge off. This magical drug will cause you to completely relax and feel no pain.
I was skeptical. If that was true, why didn't I get one before.?I trusted my doctor and I was desperate. I gave in to his offer for relief. I waited for this wonder drug to kick in and provide some calm before the storm. I waited. And waited. My peace never arrived.
Instead, I believe the drug put my baby in distress. His heartrate began dropping.
The oxygen mask went over my face. The room quickly filled with people. I have no idea who they all were. Students? Doctors? I don't know, but I felt like I was center stage at some fancy theatrical performance only I wasn't properly dressed. I was poked, prodded, twisted and contorted to find a place that "baby was happy." I was ordered to begin pushing.
I pushed with all I had. Some woman had the audacity to tell my I wasn't trying hard enough. She said I wasn't holding my breath and wanted another person to "help" me hold my breath. I was in tears. Everything hurt. I felt like I wasn't going to make it. My doctor said, "we need to get this baby out NOW!" With that, he proceeded to perform another lovely procedure-an episiotomy. I had no problem with this, except when he went to cut, YEOW!!!! He was certain I wasn't really feeling pain. I only thought I was feeling pain because I could see what he was doing. They put a drape up so I wouldn't know when he was making the cut.
Nope, that was not the problem. I think when I screamed, he believed me and numbed the area before he continued. As soon as he was done, he grabbed the forceps and attempted to pull my baby out. As he pulled, I felt as if something was turning me inside out. I cannot describe the intense pain. Not being able to get a good enough grip, the doctor added metal extenders onto the forceps. I wish I had a photo, as I sometimes have a hard time believing this really happened. Michael later told me he was very scared. As he watched the doctor tug, twist, and pull, he feared his baby's head would pop right off.
At 4:56p.m my son appeared. His face and head were quite bruised, but he was in one piece. Christopher was born 7/11/84 and weighed 7lbs 7 oz.
Shortly after Christopher's birth, I went numb from the waist down. Nice, but a little too late. I was told by my nurse that my doctor was out in the hall chewing out the anesthesiologist who'd conveniently disappeared after my failed epidural. The following day he told me the birth had been difficult but he'd worked with me since I'd been so adamant against a c-section. "But"he added, "I'd never do it again." I think he was as traumatized as we were.
I truly believe had it not been for a friend who attended the birth and prayed throughout the delivery, things would not have turned out so well. But one look into Christopher's eyes and all was forgotten. We were blessed with a son.
Monday, July 28, 2008
1st Day of Kindergarten
Mary at Owlhaven is having a Land's End Backpack giveaway. In order to enter, she asked us to post a memory from a 1st day of school. So here is what I remember from my 1st day of kindergarten.
I had watched my older brother and sister go to school every day. I was so excited to be joining them. Although I knew the route to walk, my mom drove me that first day. She stopped in front of the building.
"Are you sure you want to walk home?" Mom queried.
"Yes, I want to walk home. I know the way."
I got out of the car, looked both ways before crossing, then walked across to the very large building. The steps leading up to the doors looked much steeper than they ever had from the car, but I climbed them anyway.
There it was. The kindergarten room. Mrs. Preston, with her white hair pulled back in a bun, stood at the door greeting the children. I found my desk, opened it up, and placed my nickel inside. The nickel was for a carton of milk that we got from the janitor.
It was a busy first day. We said the pledge of Allegiance, played on the blacktop playground at recess, took a nap afterwards, sang songs, & had a snack. When it was time to go, we lined up in two lines. Boys in one, girls in the other. We then went over all of the safety rules, since most everyone walked home from school.
Look both ways before crossing the street.
Walk on the left, facing traffic.
Then it was time to go. Out the building, down the steps, and those of us going East turned left. Before us was a huge hill. It wasn't as thrilling to walk home as I thought it would be. I didn't remember that I would be walking alone by the time I reached the crest.
Down the hill, turn right, past the Reverend's home, then left. Up the long street towards the Catholic school...I was getting tired. Home was still pretty far. It was hot. I had took off my blue sweater and began tying it around my waist. I wondered how I could get home faster. Just as I tightened the arms of my sweater to keep it from slipping, I had a wonderful idea. I took it off, laid it on the ground. Sitting down on the soft fabric, I closed my eyes and imagined flying the rest of the way home on my magic carpet.
With my eyes still squeezed shut, I said the only magic words I knew, "abra cadabra, fly magic carpet, fly me home." And I waited. I'm not sure how long I sat there waiting in the street. There was no sidewalk at this point of my journey.
Later that day, my sister and brother told me of the shortcuts when walking, after they laughed at the long way I'd gone. I was glad I hadn't mentioned my not-so-magic carpet.
I had watched my older brother and sister go to school every day. I was so excited to be joining them. Although I knew the route to walk, my mom drove me that first day. She stopped in front of the building.
"Are you sure you want to walk home?" Mom queried.
"Yes, I want to walk home. I know the way."
I got out of the car, looked both ways before crossing, then walked across to the very large building. The steps leading up to the doors looked much steeper than they ever had from the car, but I climbed them anyway.
There it was. The kindergarten room. Mrs. Preston, with her white hair pulled back in a bun, stood at the door greeting the children. I found my desk, opened it up, and placed my nickel inside. The nickel was for a carton of milk that we got from the janitor.
It was a busy first day. We said the pledge of Allegiance, played on the blacktop playground at recess, took a nap afterwards, sang songs, & had a snack. When it was time to go, we lined up in two lines. Boys in one, girls in the other. We then went over all of the safety rules, since most everyone walked home from school.
Look both ways before crossing the street.
Walk on the left, facing traffic.
Then it was time to go. Out the building, down the steps, and those of us going East turned left. Before us was a huge hill. It wasn't as thrilling to walk home as I thought it would be. I didn't remember that I would be walking alone by the time I reached the crest.
Down the hill, turn right, past the Reverend's home, then left. Up the long street towards the Catholic school...I was getting tired. Home was still pretty far. It was hot. I had took off my blue sweater and began tying it around my waist. I wondered how I could get home faster. Just as I tightened the arms of my sweater to keep it from slipping, I had a wonderful idea. I took it off, laid it on the ground. Sitting down on the soft fabric, I closed my eyes and imagined flying the rest of the way home on my magic carpet.
With my eyes still squeezed shut, I said the only magic words I knew, "abra cadabra, fly magic carpet, fly me home." And I waited. I'm not sure how long I sat there waiting in the street. There was no sidewalk at this point of my journey.
Later that day, my sister and brother told me of the shortcuts when walking, after they laughed at the long way I'd gone. I was glad I hadn't mentioned my not-so-magic carpet.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Blogger Award
I'm slow in getting to this, but here goes. I received this blogger award from Jewels at Pursuing "Happily Ever After." What a pleasant surprise! (And you all know how much I enjoy a surprise.) Now that I'm thinking about it, blog comments are have the same treasured quality. I don't blog to get comments, but what a delightful surprise when I find them.
Here is what Jewels wrote on the award: Joanne from "Piece of the Puzzle": I like to stop by her blog to hear about her family---she is so proud of them! She sees the blessings all around her and celebrates each one. When dealt a lemon, Joanne can certainly make lemonade out of it. And she has a great sense of humor as well.
The rules given to me: Put the logo on your blog. Put a link to me (who awarded it to you) on your blog also. You need to nominate 7 other bloggers for the award and put links to them also on your blog. Finally, leave a comment for those you've nominated - so they know they've received a special award.
Here is what Jewels wrote on the award: Joanne from "Piece of the Puzzle": I like to stop by her blog to hear about her family---she is so proud of them! She sees the blessings all around her and celebrates each one. When dealt a lemon, Joanne can certainly make lemonade out of it. And she has a great sense of humor as well.
The rules given to me: Put the logo on your blog. Put a link to me (who awarded it to you) on your blog also. You need to nominate 7 other bloggers for the award and put links to them also on your blog. Finally, leave a comment for those you've nominated - so they know they've received a special award.
1) Lisa at The Funny Farm Lisa is a sweet & caring online friend. Her blog reflects both her kindness and also the humor that makes life manageable. She has one very special daughter that she homeschools and does that well.
2) Tammy at PB4UGO Tammy blogs about a variety of things. Her humor comes naturally and sometimes unexpectedly. Her cups runs over and she's happy to share, so get your cup out.
3) Mylinda at The Buggy Crew-Always upbeat and encouraging. Mylinda reminds me of a country wife who gives a lot & is hardworking. I love Mondays as she shares her menu for the week, one of these days I'll join her in this. I'm challenged to go that extra step.
4) His Girl-His girl is reflective and meditative. This doesn't keep her from being fun and spunky. She shares from her heart. But often, I can't comment on her blog as I need time to reflect on what she has said. By the time I return, she's added more food for thought.
5) Melanie at Dandelions & Roses (Private Blog) Melanie is full of energy. I have no idea how she manages all that she does, but she makes it sound easy. She is also a fabulous cook. Her blog may be private, but she has a food blog that serves up one delicious dish after the other.
6) Kate at Life With Special Needs Kids (her blog is private) Kate is an articulate, compassionate person. I wish she'd run for a political office. She has courage and the backbone to make things happen. She is a genius too, wiser than someone twice her age. Kate has lots to say and is worth listening to.
7) Lori at View From My Porch Swing (whose blog is also private)-Lori has a creative flair and is certainly gifted in many things. She fills her life with beauty and grace. The love she pours into her family is evident in the photos she shares. Beautiful, smiling faces adorn her blog. Lori is an inspiration to large families and families with special children.
Wow, I didn't realize I read so many private blogs. I have so much enjoyed not only these ladies, but so many others (and yes, I probably need to update the blogs that I read on my sidebar.) I enjoy sharing in your lives and you all help me to grow as you inspire and encourage me.
And thank-you to all who comment, you truly are a treasured surprise!!!
Friday, July 25, 2008
One Last Photo
This was one of the many rollercoasters we rode yesterday. I LOVE rollercoasters. (I take after my grandmother.) In case you can't tell, starting in the front is: Elisabeth, Sarabeth, Hilary, & David. I was in the car just in front of them. We had a great time!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Feelings of Inadequacy
The past few days have left me wondering if I am a real mother. Today I took one 6 year old boy to the grocery store. I needed just a few things: milk, ham steaks, & parsley (I killled what was growing in my garden.) At the grocery store, I was distracted and harried. I forgot the milk. I walked in the house shaking my head. I asked Michael how in the world I ever took 5 kids grocery shopping week after week without losing my head.
I have had Ethan since very early Thursday morning. His mom is out-of-town until tomorrow night. He has made amazing progress in school and therapy. This should make my job easier, right? He communicates in so many ways. He is using sign language again. Ethan looks at me and gestures with his hands.
"What do you need, little buddy?"
He keeps signing. Over and over because I don't get it. I have no idea what this sign is. He says something to me sounding as if he is fluent in a foreign language. But I don't speak this language. Nobody speaks his language. He continues to plead with me via hand motions. I don't know what he is saying. I hear the frustration in his voice. I begin offering him things. Juice, toys, anything I can think of. He begins melting down. He screams. He throws his transformer car across the room. He grabs the first thing he can reach, a DVD. He bites down hard, leaving teeth marks in the disc.
I don't blame him. He has no way to make me understand. I have no idea how to parent him in my daughter's absence. I don't know how to grandparent him at this moment. I fall to my knees. It's the only place I know to go. I feel so inadequate. Caring for a child shouldn't be this difficult.
I have had Ethan since very early Thursday morning. His mom is out-of-town until tomorrow night. He has made amazing progress in school and therapy. This should make my job easier, right? He communicates in so many ways. He is using sign language again. Ethan looks at me and gestures with his hands.
"What do you need, little buddy?"
He keeps signing. Over and over because I don't get it. I have no idea what this sign is. He says something to me sounding as if he is fluent in a foreign language. But I don't speak this language. Nobody speaks his language. He continues to plead with me via hand motions. I don't know what he is saying. I hear the frustration in his voice. I begin offering him things. Juice, toys, anything I can think of. He begins melting down. He screams. He throws his transformer car across the room. He grabs the first thing he can reach, a DVD. He bites down hard, leaving teeth marks in the disc.
I don't blame him. He has no way to make me understand. I have no idea how to parent him in my daughter's absence. I don't know how to grandparent him at this moment. I fall to my knees. It's the only place I know to go. I feel so inadequate. Caring for a child shouldn't be this difficult.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Break In
Elisabeth went to dinner with a friend last evening. When she returned to her car, she noticed something on her seat. It was her car registration from the glove box. Something was amiss. Sitting on the dash was an empty hole. Her car stereo was missing. Items from the console were strewn about.
It was 7:30p.m. when she came out of the restaurant. It was daylight. The area of town she was parked is a busy, active place. People coming and going, standing around. Nobody saw anything unusual. This is the same car that was attacked 3 years ago. And the same driver.
This was tough for Elisabeth. It felt like another personal assault.
It was 7:30p.m. when she came out of the restaurant. It was daylight. The area of town she was parked is a busy, active place. People coming and going, standing around. Nobody saw anything unusual. This is the same car that was attacked 3 years ago. And the same driver.
This was tough for Elisabeth. It felt like another personal assault.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Thunk!
Am I the only one who shakes my head in confusion as to why closer attention isn't paid to grammar/spelling/proper English when marketing a product in the United States? I understand that much of what is shipped here, comes from countries where English is not their native language. How difficult would it be to have someone proofread an item?
Or what about a sign that is printed and posted at a business with misspellings? Does the printer not notice the error and ask the purchaser of said item? Having a sign printed costs money, do those buying the item not care if it is printed incorrectly. Did they notice?
I've decided to post photos under my Thunk Awards. Here is the first one:
P.S. Just because this grammar thing on signage is a pet peeve, I do not claim to check my blogposts for spelling/grammar/proper English errors. But if I was selling a product, I'd hire an editor.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Six
Six is such a nice number. A half dozen. Lots of things come in a pack of 6, like soda. And who doesn't think six-pack abs are nice? Six Flags Amusement parks are packed with fun. But the very best thing about the number six happens today. Today is Ethan's 6th birthday. We celebrated yesterday.
I do believe this was his best birthday ever. Ethan blew out his candles for the very first time. (Well, at least 3 of them.) I had no idea he'd acquired this skill.
(This video is only 16 seconds.)
I do believe this was his best birthday ever. Ethan blew out his candles for the very first time. (Well, at least 3 of them.) I had no idea he'd acquired this skill.
(This video is only 16 seconds.)
I attempted to order a Transformers cake, but the bakery didn't make any without milk. I could bake my own cake and they agreed to decorate it. Great! Did they have icing without milk? ButterCream wouldn't work, but their non-dairy whipped icing would. Upon further inspection I realized the non-dairy icing contained milk. But the buttercream icing contained no butter. I decided to make it all myself.
Hilary came to the rescue and decorated the cake for me.
Ethan was one excited 6 year old. Transformers ruled the day.
Happy Birthday to my favorite 6 year old!
Saturday, July 12, 2008
After Birthday Post
After reading His Girl's "shallow observations" on Christopher's birthday post, I decided to upload the video his sister's created for him. She might see things differently. (I have no idea why my kids do what they do. I don't make silly faces, but maybe I wear ridiculous hats.)
Friday, July 11, 2008
Happy Birthday Christopher!!!!
Happy 24th Christopher. This is the last birthday you will celebrate as Christopher. Next year it will be as Mr. & Mrs.
Over the next few days, I'm planning to share your birth story. I don't have much time today. I'm taking your sister to her college orientation, like you and I went, just 5 short years ago.
How did we get from here:
to here:
running to here:
biking to there:
zooming past 6th grade to here:
Ooops, I mean here as Uncle Chris:
and landing here:
and staying here:
I'm out of time, but I want you to know how proud I am of you son. You have one terrific future wife and she has an amazing soon-to-be husband. May this birthday find you radiating with the knowledge of how very much you are loved. I appreciate your thoughtfulness, your kindness, your work ethic, the way you encourage everyone around you, and your positive attitude. I could go on about your many good qualities, but I gotta run. Happy 24th Birthday Christopher. Love, Mom
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Falling
Whenever I hear about an older person falling, it scares me. I worry about my inlaws falling. My dad wrenched his ankle recently going downstairs. A couple of years ago, my mom stepped off a curb, fell, and tore her rotator cuff. My grandmother fell taking out the trash. She never recovered and that fall cut short her life.
I watch a baby takes her first steps. She tumbles more than she stands, but bounces back to her feet. Sure she gets an occasional bump or bruise, but mostly it is no big deal. Adults do have farther to fall, but as we age, we no longer bounce. It is more like a thud.
I fell almost 2 weeks ago. I'm not quite sure how it happened, but I lost my balance and came crashing down. I continue to have a residual headache which causes me to feel out of it almost daily. Last week I blamed feeling like this on having workers in my home, but I think it was the headache that made it difficult to deal with their banging. I've been especially forgetful.
I missed meeting with an online friend who was in town. I didn't remember the date.
I feel old.
I watch a baby takes her first steps. She tumbles more than she stands, but bounces back to her feet. Sure she gets an occasional bump or bruise, but mostly it is no big deal. Adults do have farther to fall, but as we age, we no longer bounce. It is more like a thud.
I fell almost 2 weeks ago. I'm not quite sure how it happened, but I lost my balance and came crashing down. I continue to have a residual headache which causes me to feel out of it almost daily. Last week I blamed feeling like this on having workers in my home, but I think it was the headache that made it difficult to deal with their banging. I've been especially forgetful.
I missed meeting with an online friend who was in town. I didn't remember the date.
I feel old.
Monday, July 07, 2008
Ethan's EEG Results
Ethan had his neuro appointment. Christina liked the new nurse practioner. No seizures were seen on his EEG, but it did show abnormal brain activity. This was interpreted as: the medication is keeping the seizures in check, otherwise he'd be having lots of seizures throughout the day. Good news? Bad news? I'm taking it as good news.
One of the reasons for the latest EEG, besides that he was due for one, is his OT wanted the information. She is excited about a new therapy she recently learned about at a conference. She feels Ethan is a perfect candidate. She has used this new technique with him twice, with amazing results. But in order to take it further, it was imperative to know whether or not he was having seizures. Hopefully, the latest results will not hinder him from receiving this promising therapy.
We had a rather quiet 4th of July. My inlaws were here for dinner, as were Christina & Ethan. Just 6 of us. Oh so quiet. Ok, quiet is not really the right descriptive word, as Ethan can be oh so busy. Independance Day is a day for celebrating. We have much to be thankful for in this country. Fireworks, Family, Fun, Food. Sounds Fabulous to me.
Here are a few photos taken after Sarabeth arrived home from work.
Ethan loved the sparklers. This was the first year he really got into fireworks. He clapped, cheered, & kept signing please for some more. If I'd had any idea, I'd have bought more. Next year I will. And maybe, more than 2 of my kids will show up.
One of the reasons for the latest EEG, besides that he was due for one, is his OT wanted the information. She is excited about a new therapy she recently learned about at a conference. She feels Ethan is a perfect candidate. She has used this new technique with him twice, with amazing results. But in order to take it further, it was imperative to know whether or not he was having seizures. Hopefully, the latest results will not hinder him from receiving this promising therapy.
We had a rather quiet 4th of July. My inlaws were here for dinner, as were Christina & Ethan. Just 6 of us. Oh so quiet. Ok, quiet is not really the right descriptive word, as Ethan can be oh so busy. Independance Day is a day for celebrating. We have much to be thankful for in this country. Fireworks, Family, Fun, Food. Sounds Fabulous to me.
Here are a few photos taken after Sarabeth arrived home from work.
Ethan loved the sparklers. This was the first year he really got into fireworks. He clapped, cheered, & kept signing please for some more. If I'd had any idea, I'd have bought more. Next year I will. And maybe, more than 2 of my kids will show up.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
The Tyrant
I've never been one who is terribly organized. For years, I created these wonderfully detailed schedules that were ridiculously impossible to follow. But when I don't at least try, I become a victim to the urgency of the moment. And I miss out on truly important things. I hate that.
Sometimes the urgent things come by way of a phone call, the desire to check something out on the internet, or even a walk to the mailbox. I get caught up in the busyness of those around me and accomplish nothing seemingly worthwhile.
Today I wasn't terribly motivated to do the things that needed to be accomplished. But it wasn't that I was distracted by so many things. I was tired. I didn't go to sleep last night until 5 this morning.
I was on my way to bed around 1 a.m., but Elisabeth came in and was having severe back pain. After chastising her for not taking better care of herself, making her feel worse, I realized her pain was at the point of warranting a trip to the Emergency Room.
Have I mentioned I don't go anywhere without having my hair done and makeup on. Seriously, I don't even walk to the mailbox. But last night I'd already washed my face and was ready for some Zzzz's by the time we decided to go. For the first time that I can remember, I put my clothes on and off we went. Without a drop of makeup. And I survived. (Could my obsession with my hair/makeup routine be a tyrant of sorts?)
The ER at 2 in the morning is an interesting place. The thin curtain separating the beds allows one to peak into the lives of others who have arrived at this same place. The reasons for being there are varied. The language can be crude. I couldn't help but overhear the sordid details of the girl behind the curtain's life, the drugs she used, her injury and the breakup with her loser boyfriend-her words edited. The little lady who came in on a gurney because she was caring for her 91 year old husband when she fell. When she couldn't get up, he managed to drop a phone on her head, and the laceration was bleeding profusely. What was her husband doing with a phone at 3 in the morning?
Okay, I think I'm getting distracted. This is why I need to create more of a schedule to my life. I hate routines, but distraction is a terrible tyrant. I've lost much time to it.
Sometimes the urgent things come by way of a phone call, the desire to check something out on the internet, or even a walk to the mailbox. I get caught up in the busyness of those around me and accomplish nothing seemingly worthwhile.
Today I wasn't terribly motivated to do the things that needed to be accomplished. But it wasn't that I was distracted by so many things. I was tired. I didn't go to sleep last night until 5 this morning.
I was on my way to bed around 1 a.m., but Elisabeth came in and was having severe back pain. After chastising her for not taking better care of herself, making her feel worse, I realized her pain was at the point of warranting a trip to the Emergency Room.
Have I mentioned I don't go anywhere without having my hair done and makeup on. Seriously, I don't even walk to the mailbox. But last night I'd already washed my face and was ready for some Zzzz's by the time we decided to go. For the first time that I can remember, I put my clothes on and off we went. Without a drop of makeup. And I survived. (Could my obsession with my hair/makeup routine be a tyrant of sorts?)
The ER at 2 in the morning is an interesting place. The thin curtain separating the beds allows one to peak into the lives of others who have arrived at this same place. The reasons for being there are varied. The language can be crude. I couldn't help but overhear the sordid details of the girl behind the curtain's life, the drugs she used, her injury and the breakup with her loser boyfriend-her words edited. The little lady who came in on a gurney because she was caring for her 91 year old husband when she fell. When she couldn't get up, he managed to drop a phone on her head, and the laceration was bleeding profusely. What was her husband doing with a phone at 3 in the morning?
Okay, I think I'm getting distracted. This is why I need to create more of a schedule to my life. I hate routines, but distraction is a terrible tyrant. I've lost much time to it.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Summer Is Here
I woke up to loud banging this morning. It was expected, but still seemed harsh as it invaded the dream I was happily enjoying.
I don't like having strangers working inside my home. And to have them here, in my kitchen, before I've had one cup of coffee? Horrors! This wouldn't happen during the school year, but it is summer here people. I slept in. I was reading last night until quite late.
Yesterday was demolition day. I'm getting a new kitchen floor, but the old 3 layers of floor had to be ripped out first. The noise and dust made it impossible to blog. I couldn't go to the grocery store as I had no access to my refrigerator. Sigh. What was I supposed to do? Seemed like the perfect opportunity to get my nails painted for the 4th of July. In years past I've enjoyed decorating fingernails on my girls with splashes of fireworks, stripes of red, white, or blue. I'm patriotic like that. I came home with blue, yes blue as in the color on the flag blue.
Oh, and I picked up the new Guitar Hero Game that came out on Sunday. Before I began reading last night, I tried it out. Can you believe my kids were all gone (except the one who doesn't play) and I had to play alone? For 3 hours. Then I sat and read.
(Seriously, I think I should have had at least a half a dozen more children. I get carried away with too much free time.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)