Before Meets After

It's been a while, y'all.

I'm pleased to announce we are all healthy once again.

We are also a 90% diaper free household (Syd is 100% and Owen is the 90%.  I know, he is older.  Whatev.)  It's not a myth when someone tells you their kid potty trained themselves.  Syd woke up one morning and decided it was time and it was.

It is *insert curse word* hot.  Like over 100 for 10 days in a row.  Add in the humidity and the heat index and whatnot and its like 110.  The heat is oppressive.  It just bears down on you.  It's icky.

It's been so long I feel like I have a million things to blog about and nothing at all.  Weird.

I suppose I should say - even if I haven't blogged or commented on yours it doesn't mean I'm not reading yours.  I have followed project sleepy time and gallbladder surgeries and moving to your dream neighborhood and whatnot.  I know comments are the life blood of bloggers and I sincerely apologize for not leaving them.  (And for being the creepy anonymous reader!)

Okay, I have a few topics I could discuss:

- my amazingly wonderful near-perfect kiddos (or maybe share some of their imperfections - lol)

- how I'm a total (beauty) product junky and review a few products (primer, foundation, gloss)

- My new Clarisonic!!!!!  (I'm in loooove)

- Or a bit of narcissism (who I am kidding?  A lot of narcissism!)

- Other random blogable moments - y'know the kind that are truly enjoyable to read - every day antidotes that capture a snapshot of humanity at its best/worst.  Like Owen's new "in-bid-able" friend.

Well, folks... what's it gonna be?

Well what is the easiest thing that I can readily write about? 

Narcissism.  Sort of.

Recently a gal at work was like "so it's nice that you have pictures of your husband with another woman on your desk."  It's true: when the hubs I first met I had long plain dark hair (that I always wore in a pony), had glasses, never wore any make up and dressed sloppy.  Somehow he still fell in love with me.  Now my hair is short, lighter, I wear contacts & make up and sometimes actually iron my clothes.  Here is pic from approx 3 years ago, so I think I had evolved to mascara and lip gloss...

Pic taken this week... it's sorta grainy, excuse the pic from the camera...also note I know have two adorable rugrats attached to me:

        

So, that's my attempt at get myself back into blogging.  Maybe I won't be so lame next time.  Missed y'all.

It's not you, it's me

I have barely been on the last few weeks... so I haven't posted, I have not read your blogs or commented.  Okay, I have skimmed your blogs but I haven't really read 'em or commented on 'em.

I know.

Lame-o.

But I assure you, it's not you...it's me.

We went four rounds with strep and sinus infects.  That's right.  Every member of my household got strep in a round-robin fashion.  Syd and the hubs had it twice.  

So my days were filled with work, puke, laundry, giving kids baths at 2 am, sitting in urgent care waiting rooms...

And the blog world was neglected.  My apologies.

I believe we are back 100% now (24 consecutive days of illness in our household...24!)...so I am praising a deity out there for our wellness.  And the makers of Lysol and amoxcillian.

So that's the story. 

6 Dr's, 17 nurses, 3 ultrasounds, 1 CAT scan, 1 VCUG and 1 X-Ray later...Dr House says...

My family rocks.  My in-laws rock.  I am beyond lucky and blessed to have in laws who adore my kids (and me) and supportive parents and siblings myself.  We also have some pretty great friends.  The majority of both our families live within 20 minutes of us, including the hubs' tons of cousins.  We also work for a pretty A+ company with caring and compassionate bosses and co-workers.  So, allow me to stress again how thankful I am for the wonderful people in our lives.

Why am I stressing this?

Well, here's the story, morning glory...

I had a 5 day weekend (Wed-Sun) and then headed back to work on Mon, June 28th.  That evening Owen announced he had a headache.  11 pm rolled around and he started to vomit.  Profusely.  Followed by dry heaving.  Accompanied by a fever.  Shit.  Of course he couldn't have been sick on vacation.  Wrote it off as the stomach flu.  Dropped him off at the mother in laws Tues morn.  Called at lunch.  She could not keep his fever down and he was curled in a ball and moaning.  Called the pediatrician.  The hubs took off work early and took him to a 4:30 pm appt.

Hubs called me at 5, we needed to get to the ER.

We had the Syd with my parents and were at the ER with O by 6 pm.  High fever - 103-104-ish.  Vomit.  Strong stomach pain.  Could be appendicitis.  The pediatrician had felt a knot in his belly.

6 hours later, 1 blood test, 1 catheter to get urine to test, 1 strep test, 1 xray and 1 ultrasound later... the ER doc said not the appendix.  But Owen was severely dehydrated (he had an IV by then), a high fever and his white blood cell count was insanely high.

At 2:30 am Wed we were admitted to the Peds floor.

Wednesday involved more Dr's (4 more plus a Nurse Practitioner and Physicians Assistant), more blood and urine tests and a CAT scan.  Oh and another catheter.  By the end of Wednesday we knew his bladder was swollen to the size of a cantaloupe.  We didn't know why.  The fever of 104 was still persisting.

Thursday involved a VCUG (dye going into the bladder and ultrasounds of the bladder).  He had bladder reflux were his urine tries to go backwards into the kidneys.  But his bladder was back to normal.

We started the laxatives on Thur eve and removed the catheter.

Still had the fever on Friday but he was peeing and pooping on his own.  More bladder ultrasounds.  More blood and urine tests.  But the little man started to pick up and wanted to eat real food, wanted to read a book, wanted to hold his balloons.

By Friday at 6 pm, I felt like I had gone through an episode of House.  I had showered once.  I had left the hospital maybe 3 times, for no more than an hour each time (maybe a little longer the time I showered).  I had seen my daughter only two times in a week, for a grand total of maybe two hours.  I had slept in a child size hospital bed with a sick child.  I had seen a pediatric urologist and a host of other specialists.  My kid had been poked and prodded.  All we knew was the blood and urine test showed nothing: no UTI, no Lyme disease, no strep... just a high fever and a high white blood cell count.

But we were making progress, the fever was going down.  The blood cell count returning to normal ranges.  He was eating, peeing, pooping.  He was no longer dehydrated.  The antibiotics seemed to be working.

Our formal diagnosis: when Owen pees, he never empties his bladder completely.  This is probably been going on for months, if not a year.  He has bladder reflux.  When Owen poops, he never empties his bowel completely.  Same thing, something that has been going on for quite some time.  Not that he hasn't peed or pooped in months - he has; on a fairly regular basis; even w/in 24 hours of our hospital trip.  He just doesn't go all the way.  Finally the stool in his bowel became so hard and so large it blocked everything - including his bladder, causing his bladder to became enlarged.  Once this happened his little insides slowly stopped working and the bacteria began to spread...queue the fever and the spiked white blood cell count.  Once we emptied him out and started the antibiotics, he started to feel better.

Next up: an appointment with a pediatric urologist (they call themselves: Uro-DYNAMICS!) to figure out it is a behavior issue or if he has some genetic issue (ie his nerves don't function properly) that is causing this.

Now the whole time we were at the hospital the grandmas traded off the Syd and made sure she was A-okay.  Cousins walked and feed our dog.  Our house was cleaned for us.  People brought us food.  Everyone prayed for us.  Our bosses touched base daily and our coworkers picked up the slack, without missing a beat.  All we had to do was sit in the hospital room and hold Owen's hand.  For this, I am eternally grateful.

We got home about 8:30 Friday night.  Sunday morning Syd woke up feverish.  Took her to the dr today - strep.  You know what?  I'm exhausted but I can hang with strep.

Where There's Smoke...

....There's a wannabe housewife catching her oven on fire.

I have never wanted to be a stay at home mom.  I take that back.  Before I had kids I wanted to be at a stay at home mom.  But since I had kids that has never been my desire.

Don't get me wrong.  I think stay at home moms rock.  More power to y'all.  I couldn't hack it as a SAHM.  

I'm a feminist at heart and I believe if you WANT to be a SAHM, go for it and if you WANT to work, go for it.  Cliche?  Yes.  But it's what I believe.

I also love my job and I'm good at it and maybe I'm good at it b/c I love it or maybe I love it because I'm good at it....either way.  People sort of think I'm weird b/c I'm not a doctor or lawyer or teacher or preacher or any of the things people who are passionate about their jobs usually are.  (I'm still not telling you what I do - my company has a blogging policy and I'm not about to violate it.  I will say there are cubicles and copy/fax machines that you want to go all Office Space on and our own version of TPS reports.)

But no matter how much I love my job, but being a mommy just rocks my socks off so much more.  (Man, I'm full of cliches).  And about three times a year I get this overwhelming urge (it is literally so overwhelming it affects me physically) that I just NEED to be at home w/my kids.  I need to be a SAHM even if it is just for a few days and I need to do all the things I imagine SAHMS do: trips to the zoo, library, park and museum; baking cookies and muffins; finger painting and crafts w/ Popsicle sticks; lounging outside in the kiddie pool; planting a garden; sipping lemonade (or hot chocolate if its winter...)  Well, you get the point.

So, here I am on Day 3 of my Stay-cation.  So far we have: gone to library story time, taken O to Toy Story 3, taken Syd to the park and Orange Leaf (the Okie version of Pinkberry --- I think), taught my kids some Janis Joplin and Grateful Dead (hubs won't let them say "I'm a deadhead" oh well), made homemade pizzas and omelets and blueberry muffins and potty trained (sort of - that's a whole other blog) and played "pocket rosie" (that's ring around the rosie)  and played "spiders," ran errands and almost called the fire department... I've also grocery shopped, gotten my eyebrows waxed (priorities, y'all), done dishes 8,000 times and mopped pee from the kitchen floor and taken/picked up my car from the shop.  (It's good thing it's a stay-cation...the check to the shop was painful to write - but good news, my car is no longer a death trap!  Okay, I doubt it ever really was, but they say that to you so you agree to the laundry list of repairs...)

So, Syd got these new pink cowgirl boots at Tar-jay yesterday and the girl will not take them off.  She even slept in 'em, y'all.  I'm trying to teach her to call them shit kickers but the hubs slightly disapproves..go figure :)

Here she is in hair bow, sunglasses and boots and happy as can be:

Owen has been as sharp and as wise ass as usual...

When he and Syd were pretending to be spiders and get me I feigned horror and said "oh no!  Spiders!  I'm so scared!" and he said, with a straight face "It's just me and Syd, mommy.  We're not spiders.  We only pretending."  And when I caught the oven on fire (I just wanted to make sure our pizza crust was extra thin and crispy) I asked him "Should I call fireman Sam?" (note: Fireman Sam is on PBS) and Owen sighed and said "No, mommy, Fireman Sam does not live in HomaHoma City.  You'll just call the HomaHoma City fireman."  Y'all my son thinks I'm an imbecile.

But how cute is it that he can't say Oklahoma and he says "HomaHoma."  Friggin adorable.  I know I shouldn't encourage him to have a speech impediment, but he is only three.

Allow me to say the one thing I'm loving about being at home... eating so well.  I made a gourmet omelet (ham, cheese, onions, tomatoes and jalapenos) and a gourmet pizza ('cept for the burnt part) and tonight I'm going to attempt to bake an entire chicken.  Um, never done that before.  We'll see how it goes.  Maybe I may end up calling Fireman Sam after all.  I'll keep you posted.

We're off to rock out and have a dancy party w/ Jason Boland and the Stragglers. 

Owen & Sydney: Ant Killers for Hire

Well, we are all dried out here in Oklahoma. 

And it is HOT.  And HUMID! 

So far this morning the kids and I played Chutes and Ladders (sorta, as best kids who don't know how to read yet, can).   There was a knock down drag out barroom brawl-esque fight over the spinner.  So we gave up on board games.

Then the kids morphed into... ANT KILLERS!

I filled up empty spray bottles with "MAGICAL ANT KILLER SPRAY" aka water and I sent them to the backyard.

After about an hour (a whole entire hour, y'all - of pure joy and happiness and bliss - no fighting, screaming or crying) they decided they needed a snack.  The lounged on the floor and ate fistfuls of teddy grahams. 

Serioulsy, could my kids get any cuter?

No clue what's on the agenda today.  Last week we hit up the Natural History Museum and it rocked our socks off.  LOVED IT.   (Syd: Dinosaurs will EAT ME!  Owen: NO!  They won't!  Dinosaurs are DEAD!)

For now...I'm off to sip my coffee leisurely... I'm still lounging in the pj's.

The Great Flood of '10

When it rains, it pours...

That is my office building in the background and those are co-workers cars flooded.  This photo was taken a few hours after the left their cars (at the time water up to the doors).  But that is how crazy the flooding was today.

And yes, I did not have an umbrella today.  And yes when I walked into the office I looked like I'd just won a wet tshirt contest.  I was OBSCENE.  I'm surprised I wasn't sent home.  (Uh, yeah, I did go to work.  I should buy a t-shirt: I survived the flood of '010.  Yes, oh-ten.)

I mean, where is Nic Cage when you need him?  Isn't he suppose to save us from imminent destruction from natural disaster?

A few other photos from today's crazy weather in the 405 (yes, I went there, I referred to my town by the area code):

Banana Snow Cone: An Ode to a Friendship

Four years ago (actually four years and two months ago to be exact) I was engaged, entering my second trimester of my first pregnancy and set to be a bridesmaid in a good friends wedding.

It was a rainy April afternoon, mid day, middle of the week.  I didn't have to work and I can't remember if it was because I had the day off or I called in sick or what but nonetheless I was at home.  At the time the home was a two story townhouse apartment that I was staying at, though not on the lease.  Technically, I still lived w/ my sis, but I spent most of my time at the hubs apartment (though he was basically just my baby daddy at the time...well and my soul mate, obviously.)

So, I was sort of just hanging out all hormonal and morning sickness-y and in my pj's.  I had been working the over night shift so it was nothing for me to roll out of bed at 2 pm. 

My wedding was about  5 weeks away and the wedding of a good girlfriend was a week away.  We were set to be in each other's weddings.  It was a strange friendship.  We started out as enemies and then became frenemies and then real friends.  Once we became friends it was a pretty strong friendship.  The kind where you could crash at each other's houses unannounced and go on road trips and sing loudly (and off key for my part) to whatever was on the radio.  We could finish each others sentences and when we heard/read/saw something that reminded is of the other we would immediately call/text/email one another.  I adored her daughter and babysat for her when needed.  We were both young and trying to find our place in the world and our own true love.

So, when a week before her wedding she told me about a "tiff" (that's the best way to describe it I guess - nothing earth shattering but still something) between her and her betrothed I asked her "are you sure you want to commit the rest of your life to him?"

Yeah, I know.

From her point of view (and her fiances) that was the worst thing I could possibly EVER say.  It was mean and malicious.  And just plain wrong.

From my point of view, it was out of love and concern.  She was moving states to be with him.  She was moving her child and quitting her job.  I didn't want 6 months or 6 years down the road for her to be heartbroken and desolute.  I wanted to be her friend and to ensure she knew what she was doing.  (Of course, she did.)

I didn't ask her that question out of jealousy or spite or whatever silly, stupid emotion that women sometimes feel when they try to be petty and break up a couple.  I was secure in my own engagement and job and impending birth.  It was out of love.  Misguided, but honestly and truly, out of genuine concern.

But it didn't matter.  I still said it...OUT LOUD... and on that gray April day...

I experienced one of the worth break ups of my life.  There were some phone calls and emails.  Lots of tears.  A roller coaster of emotion.  Breaking up with a friend like that is way worse than breaking up with a boyfriend.  (Okay, maybe not always but in this case it was.)  I was disappointed.  In her.  In me.  I literally felt our friendship crumbling.

There I was, alone, pregnant and thouroughly depressed.  And the one thing, that my brain, some how decided would make everything OKAY... a banana snow cone.

Bizarre.

But suddenly I wanted...nay...NEEDED a banana snow cone.  RIGHT THAT MINUTE.  If only I could taste the sweet coldness of a banana snow cone, somehow all this hurt would just simply melt away. 

It is so odd that I decided on that.  But once I determined I needed one, I was fixated on it.  I was on a mission.  TO heal my heart and satisfy this intense craving, the old thing that would do was this banana snow cone.  Maybe there is some strange psychology out there, I don't know.  It just WAS.

So, I got in my car and drove.  I drove the entire OKC metropolitis.  I drove for nearly two hours.  Not a snow cone stand open.  It was only April afterall.

So, I was left completely empty.

I went on to serve in her wedding, as it was too late to change anything.  But it was awkward.  She backed out of my wedding.  We eventually made up.  But it was never the same.  For one, she lives a state away.  We both have kids and jobs and it is hard to get away.  But whenever she is in town she makes an effort to come see my kids.  We are facebook friends, for whatever that's worth.  And she is still married, quite contentedly, I might add.  I went on to get married and have my babies and form other friendships.

But there are still times when I hear a song on the radio or hear a story on NPR and I think of her.  And every time I eat a banana snow cone I think of that day. 

Obviously, I'm eating a banana snow cone right now.