Unstoppable Me.







Showing posts with label Can't a Girl Get a Break?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Can't a Girl Get a Break?. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

SPT: In Which Our Heroine Gets Her Roots Done

Monday I was treated to my 2nd root canal in two months.


It hurt. More on that tomorrow; I have a humor angle, but right now I am simultaneously in pain and high as a kite.

So I'm kicking back, loving my vicadin (pictured above at lower right), and soaking up a little violence a la Jack Bauer.


p.s. Since I have just advertised that I am in possession of pain pills, if you are a prescription pain pill addict and plan to raid my stash, please stay away. I have no filter in my drug-induced haze and will channel my Inner Jack Bauer against you.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Sunday, December 6, 2009

A Quick Backtrack

Quickly, before I continue with the Christmas festivities, I give you some highlights of our Thanksgiving week.
Here is Isabelle's 3rd grade class play, "The Ugly Turkey," about a different-looking turkey who taught all the other turkeys that you judge a turkey by her character and not by her appearance. Notice that Isabelle is a head taller than most of her classmates. Do you think the other turkeys will be judgemental to the tall turkey?

On Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, we road-tripped to Idaho Falls for a feast hosted by Sky & Heidi--my brother & his wife--whom we just blend into "Skeidi." [Mike remained home to work. I allowed his mom to have custody for Thanksgiving.]

The above photo is the baby pestering Max on our 4-hour drive. It was hilarious! He spent a half hour stretching his foot wa-a-a-a-y over, as far as he could reach, to tap on Max's leg. Max didn't even notice the antics, immersed as he was in making a BB gun from a pen (don't ask). I happened to glance back and saw this little blue jammie foot stretched out so it could bother Max. We spent the next half hour laughing at the baby-pestering.

We arrived safe & sound Wednesday evening, and by 10pm that night it was clear that I had a very sick baby. A screaming, in-pain, inconsolable baby. I walked the floor with him that night from 1-5am. Every night thereafter, for the entire holiday, was spent in a similar manner.

It was a delirious Thanksgiving.

Thank GOODNESS for a mom & dad who helped out when it became too much--like when Baby woke up for the morning at 7am, after being up crying ALL NIGHT. My mom & dad took over so I could squeeze in a few hours of survival sleep.

Or like when, another morning, he decided to get up from 4am-7am after--yes--crying off and on from 1-3am. On that morning, I just started to cry along with him. My dad got up at 4am that day and played with Jack, allowing me to zonk for a few hours.

Thanksgiving recap: The food and company were great. The rest of it was nightmarish.

The baby did sleep quite well each night from 9pm-midnight. Foolishly, I spent that time socializing and playing games. Then I'd fall into bed, only to be awakened an hour later by a screaming baby in pain. (He ended up having two ear infections, the poor brave sweetie.)

I had big plans to document the fun and the food. Didn't happen. A sick, non-sleeping baby by night and a hyper, mischievous baby by day meant no photos. None. I did take a second to snap a photo of their amazing bar stools, which came with their new house.

And on the way home, we saw this beauty. A bubblegum-pink truck. We stared. We laughed. Don't you think my minivan would look great in this color?

(please tell me you caught the tongue-in-cheek tone there.)

Friday, November 13, 2009

Up All Night


All day long today I held this sick little baby while he cried and fussed and squirmed.

Every night before I go to bed, I sneak into his room and change him into a fresh diaper so he doesn't wake up soaked to the skin. When I open his bedroom door, I am hit with a wave of baby smell--so strong, I suppose, because he's been in his room, freshly bathed, with the door shut for hours.


I love the little sleepy sounds he makes as I change him. I love that my mommy-shushing and nonsense talk comforts him back to sleep. I love to rub his warm little round tummy as I zip his jammies up.

But last night his tummy was burning hot. I could feel immediately that he wasn't warm and cozy--he was burning up. And so began a long night--a very long night--of him tossing and turning and being awake, deliriously trying to play with toys and the tv remote.

Today was more of the same. And when Jack is sick, he doesn't have the courtesy to be snuggly and just lay quietly in my arms; he is restless and disquiet. So I don't even get to sit and rock a sick baby--I wrangle one.

And after 24 hours, I'm exhausted. And poor Baby is, too. For a little guy riddled with ear infection, he's been a good little boy and so brave.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

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