This is total genius!
But I have to give credit where credit is due.....TRENT is a cleaning genius and he's only 8 mths old.
First, examine his uching salamander-esk movement across the floor.
Did you see it? Left, right, left, right such precision and efficiency.
The idea came to me. What if you could attach a Swiffer pad to the efficient tummy squirmer's ample belly? Or better yet attach a buffing pad to a one-sie to make the ''Swonesie'' .
Only the mildest of cleaners would be involved, maybe vinegar and baking soda?
And why stop at hardwoods and tile. My Bissell vacuum has this nifty little lint brush that helps pick up animal fur and hair off of the carpet.
I decided a 'V' shaped design pointing towards babys'' head would be the best way to optimize the racheting motion of Trents' propulsion.
Talk about a way to make them earn their keep from the get go! Kate Plus 8 would have it made with all the tummy action her floors saw.
I wonder if I could send this to the Swiffer company? It's at least worth consideration for a potentially awesome commercial.
(Disclaimer: No babies were actually harmed in the video production or testing of this product.)
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Atmosphere
I will admit to sleeping badly last night. My subconscious was not settled about the going to the psychologist today.
Errr....shiver...that's sort of sounds like a dirty word. Psychologist.
Add in the hectic morning of two clients, one of whom was two chatty for her own good and the sanity of my schedule. I was a little stressed flying into the garage with 30 mins to my appointment.
Then, I printed out the pre-forms....oh dear...12 pages! Ekkkkkk!!! Guess I should have done that homework before hand.
Note: Discuss excellence in procrastination with doctor.
I got to the office with 10 minutes to spare. Sat in the parking lot trying to fill in ask many blanks as possible. Realized after almost 8 yrs of marriage I still don't know Rich's SSN or the address of his work.
I should take a picture of the building. All salmon pink brick reminiscent of a bank with weird Greek columns and French Doors. The building itself seems conflicted in its identity, how ironic!
The waiting room has big overstuffed leather couches which is a first for me in a doctors office. The walls were sort of painted a light blue grey and depending I guess that could be soothing or gloomy.
Then I spotted it. Or rather heard it. From the floor, right by the check in window there was a ancient looking cylinder. It was emitting white noise into the room, rather loudly in fact. Too loud to make it soothing to me. All I could think about was the machine in Trents' room that emits a like noise to simulate the 'womb' atmosphere.
Tricky, Tricky these doctors are trying to regress you right from the start! Or they have a sick sense of humor about these things after so many years treating patients.
Errr....shiver...that's sort of sounds like a dirty word. Psychologist.
Add in the hectic morning of two clients, one of whom was two chatty for her own good and the sanity of my schedule. I was a little stressed flying into the garage with 30 mins to my appointment.
Then, I printed out the pre-forms....oh dear...12 pages! Ekkkkkk!!! Guess I should have done that homework before hand.
Note: Discuss excellence in procrastination with doctor.
I got to the office with 10 minutes to spare. Sat in the parking lot trying to fill in ask many blanks as possible. Realized after almost 8 yrs of marriage I still don't know Rich's SSN or the address of his work.
I should take a picture of the building. All salmon pink brick reminiscent of a bank with weird Greek columns and French Doors. The building itself seems conflicted in its identity, how ironic!
The waiting room has big overstuffed leather couches which is a first for me in a doctors office. The walls were sort of painted a light blue grey and depending I guess that could be soothing or gloomy.
Then I spotted it. Or rather heard it. From the floor, right by the check in window there was a ancient looking cylinder. It was emitting white noise into the room, rather loudly in fact. Too loud to make it soothing to me. All I could think about was the machine in Trents' room that emits a like noise to simulate the 'womb' atmosphere.
Tricky, Tricky these doctors are trying to regress you right from the start! Or they have a sick sense of humor about these things after so many years treating patients.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Funnies As Of Late
Haven't posted this kind of thing in a while.
Rich to Nora....''Nora don't drink the bathwater! Your brother might have peed in it.''
Nora was rolling around on the floor the other day screaming, ''I want to marry somebody, I want to marry somebody''.....Yeah, it'll be a while babe.
Nora was upset that I wouldn't turn on cartoons, so she picked up a play phone called the Jentinks, ''Ms Kaffy, Mr. Dave my mommy won't turn on the tv. You tell her to turn on the cartoons?'' Andrew their son gets to watch less tv than Nora so I'm pretty sure Ms. Kathy wouldn't have been on Nora's side.
Rich to Nora....''Nora don't drink the bathwater! Your brother might have peed in it.''
Nora was rolling around on the floor the other day screaming, ''I want to marry somebody, I want to marry somebody''.....Yeah, it'll be a while babe.
Nora was upset that I wouldn't turn on cartoons, so she picked up a play phone called the Jentinks, ''Ms Kaffy, Mr. Dave my mommy won't turn on the tv. You tell her to turn on the cartoons?'' Andrew their son gets to watch less tv than Nora so I'm pretty sure Ms. Kathy wouldn't have been on Nora's side.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Say Anything.
Sorry, you all are getting inundated with thoughts right now. I have noticed some blog traffic from new places on my map. Welcome, I promise to try to keep you entertained with the chaos!
Interesting conversations lately. Sorting through the eclectic mess in my brain.
Talking to mom a lot. She gave me this sage story full of wisdom a couple days ago.
''When your dad and I lost, Allison.( I had an older sister that died in an accident) There was a friend that just wouldn't call me. I was very hurt because she was always one of my closest friends growing up. D***** talked her and her response was, 'I just don't know how to deal with the death of a child. I don't know what to say.''.
Mom said she was flabbergasted. SHE was the one dealing with it losing HER child. Sometimes people are afraid to speak.
My moms thoughts on this are SO true. What I'm going through may be making those in real life uncomfortable. You may not know what to say, but saying anything is better than the additional hurt that comes from the silence. If you read this blog, I'm not scolding you for not commenting.
This realization comes from sending out smoke signals to a couple people asking for information or direction and getting no response.
NONE.
I'm trying to wrap my brain around moms advice. And I truly understand it.
What if you say the wrong thing? Well, that could happen. Advice like 'God closes doors to open windows' sounds overly cliche in my head and I'd probably laugh.
What if you are a source of some of the internal struggle I have going on? Trust me, I'll talk to you. If this was the case I wouldn't be talking to my mom. Those pesky repressed childhood traumas and all. Mom and I have discussed so don't be appalled that it's mentioned, you must have a sense of humor to get through some of this.
What happens if you make me cry? As long as you brought tissues we are going to be fine.
Say Anything.
Interesting conversations lately. Sorting through the eclectic mess in my brain.
Talking to mom a lot. She gave me this sage story full of wisdom a couple days ago.
''When your dad and I lost, Allison.( I had an older sister that died in an accident) There was a friend that just wouldn't call me. I was very hurt because she was always one of my closest friends growing up. D***** talked her and her response was, 'I just don't know how to deal with the death of a child. I don't know what to say.''.
Mom said she was flabbergasted. SHE was the one dealing with it losing HER child. Sometimes people are afraid to speak.
My moms thoughts on this are SO true. What I'm going through may be making those in real life uncomfortable. You may not know what to say, but saying anything is better than the additional hurt that comes from the silence. If you read this blog, I'm not scolding you for not commenting.
This realization comes from sending out smoke signals to a couple people asking for information or direction and getting no response.
NONE.
I'm trying to wrap my brain around moms advice. And I truly understand it.
What if you say the wrong thing? Well, that could happen. Advice like 'God closes doors to open windows' sounds overly cliche in my head and I'd probably laugh.
What if you are a source of some of the internal struggle I have going on? Trust me, I'll talk to you. If this was the case I wouldn't be talking to my mom. Those pesky repressed childhood traumas and all. Mom and I have discussed so don't be appalled that it's mentioned, you must have a sense of humor to get through some of this.
What happens if you make me cry? As long as you brought tissues we are going to be fine.
Say Anything.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Shhhh...I'm Suppose to Be Reading.
Or so commands my mother in law, my nurse and and enforcer of the plan.
The plan is suppose to go something like.
Amanda cooks dinner.
Rich cleans kitchen while Amanda quietly plays with kids.
Rich and Amanda do kiddo baths.
Kiddos go to bed.
Amanda runs steamy bath in remarkably underused garden tub. Seriously, it's been almost a year since the renovation and I've haven't taken a bath in it until 3 nights ago.
I have discovered in this. I LOVE baths! But I do not like bubbles. Bubbles seem to irritate me, they look so promising all frothy like a cloud of heaven. What you get is your body covered with white foam akin to the Stay Puff Mashmellow man.
Bath salts and oil....that's where it's at. My skin may soon rival the squishing softness of Trents. Don't you just love how soft they are.
I got distracted. Sorry it happens a lot lately.
I have also tagged a certain night gown as the 'crazy' gown. I will never wear it again. Psychologically, it is marked as ''bad''. So, I went to Target tonight and found myself a new happy night tank that matches some blue and leopard pj shorts that Rich bought me for Christmas. Little bit of comfort mixed in with the sexy animal print...Hear me roar! That is SOooooo far off our agenda right now...more like hear me yawn.
After bath, I am suppose to climb into bed with a book and read for 30 mins. Needing suggestions on happy books or spiritual books that aren't too preachy. Anyone?
I am rebelling tonight. Oooooo stop me now, living on the edge.
With that said. My ever loving and supportive husband in his role as pill and bedtime director has issued the edict of bed. Guess I should go save some brain cells with sleep.
Night!
The plan is suppose to go something like.
Amanda cooks dinner.
Rich cleans kitchen while Amanda quietly plays with kids.
Rich and Amanda do kiddo baths.
Kiddos go to bed.
Amanda runs steamy bath in remarkably underused garden tub. Seriously, it's been almost a year since the renovation and I've haven't taken a bath in it until 3 nights ago.
I have discovered in this. I LOVE baths! But I do not like bubbles. Bubbles seem to irritate me, they look so promising all frothy like a cloud of heaven. What you get is your body covered with white foam akin to the Stay Puff Mashmellow man.
Bath salts and oil....that's where it's at. My skin may soon rival the squishing softness of Trents. Don't you just love how soft they are.
I got distracted. Sorry it happens a lot lately.
I have also tagged a certain night gown as the 'crazy' gown. I will never wear it again. Psychologically, it is marked as ''bad''. So, I went to Target tonight and found myself a new happy night tank that matches some blue and leopard pj shorts that Rich bought me for Christmas. Little bit of comfort mixed in with the sexy animal print...Hear me roar! That is SOooooo far off our agenda right now...more like hear me yawn.
After bath, I am suppose to climb into bed with a book and read for 30 mins. Needing suggestions on happy books or spiritual books that aren't too preachy. Anyone?
I am rebelling tonight. Oooooo stop me now, living on the edge.
With that said. My ever loving and supportive husband in his role as pill and bedtime director has issued the edict of bed. Guess I should go save some brain cells with sleep.
Night!
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Overwhelmed.
I am beyond overwhelmed right now, by all the love and help that is being offered.
To go from feeling so alone, to crying because of the sacrifices others are making to bring our family through this.
There are no words, except Thank you. From the sane and logical part of me. Thank you for accepting the out of control, reeling mess that I am.
I am seeing a therapist on Thursday afternoon. Sure to be a sob session that will leave me with a raging headache. With every cry there is a release, a cathartic moment as I let people in. People that I've hidden the hurt from or hurt because I was so lost.
As my cousin told me Friday night....this journey is going to be a long one, but it's gonna be so worth it to see who I am on the other side.
Maybe then I will once again by overwhelmed by the beauty in the world, laughter, smiles and the gloriousness of it all.
Today I will soak in that happy thought.
To go from feeling so alone, to crying because of the sacrifices others are making to bring our family through this.
There are no words, except Thank you. From the sane and logical part of me. Thank you for accepting the out of control, reeling mess that I am.
I am seeing a therapist on Thursday afternoon. Sure to be a sob session that will leave me with a raging headache. With every cry there is a release, a cathartic moment as I let people in. People that I've hidden the hurt from or hurt because I was so lost.
As my cousin told me Friday night....this journey is going to be a long one, but it's gonna be so worth it to see who I am on the other side.
Maybe then I will once again by overwhelmed by the beauty in the world, laughter, smiles and the gloriousness of it all.
Today I will soak in that happy thought.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Is it Even Possible
I didn't think it was possible.
To go deeper, lower. But apparently it is.
Is it possible to dehydrate yourself through crying?
This place I'm at is so vulnerable, so unknown to me. I have never been an emotional, weepy female. Always taught to suck it up, move on, don't let people see you are hurt. So to find myself falling apart sobbing 10 times a day is terrifying.
How is it even possible to bottle this much pain up and not know it?
Stuffing, stuffing, stuffing it down until it explodes like Mount Vesuvius. You look around and your world feels like it's in ashes.
Some where in all this you realize that you couldn't love your husband more.
For letting him hold you, be vulnerable, snot all over his tshirt, release every self doubt and fear into his ears. And he's still there. Telling you he loves you.
I do believe it is possible to come out of this stronger. But there are moments when I'm sitting in the ashes looking up to God with the most fervent prayers.
Dear God, heal me, make me strong enough to walk through this, make me strong enough to let go, help make me whole. Please let my family know I love them, protect my children through this stressful time. I can not do this alone.
To go deeper, lower. But apparently it is.
Is it possible to dehydrate yourself through crying?
This place I'm at is so vulnerable, so unknown to me. I have never been an emotional, weepy female. Always taught to suck it up, move on, don't let people see you are hurt. So to find myself falling apart sobbing 10 times a day is terrifying.
How is it even possible to bottle this much pain up and not know it?
Stuffing, stuffing, stuffing it down until it explodes like Mount Vesuvius. You look around and your world feels like it's in ashes.
Some where in all this you realize that you couldn't love your husband more.
For letting him hold you, be vulnerable, snot all over his tshirt, release every self doubt and fear into his ears. And he's still there. Telling you he loves you.
I do believe it is possible to come out of this stronger. But there are moments when I'm sitting in the ashes looking up to God with the most fervent prayers.
Dear God, heal me, make me strong enough to walk through this, make me strong enough to let go, help make me whole. Please let my family know I love them, protect my children through this stressful time. I can not do this alone.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Bring on the Sun
It is gorgeous today. To use a old cliche 'Just what the doctor ordered!'.
A big whopping dose of vitamin D for the sun starved pasty white residents of our home. Soak. It. Up.
We went on a long walk with Nora pushing her baby stroller. This makes her ecstatically happy, to be the little mommy. Trent just cackled from behind.
Then we ran into another mommy pushing a stroller! You don't understand people, I need neighborhood mommy friends in a bad way. Or maybe you grasp this from previous postings.
Turns out this neighbor is 43 and just became a stay at home mom. She also wrote a book while pregnant that is about to be published! We got to really talking there on the sidewalk.
Rich has always encouraged me to write a cookbook since he thinks my meals are fabulous. Karen was really knowledgeable of the inner workings of publishing....hmmmm, a little shard of that broken me may be reflecting some sun.
A big whopping dose of vitamin D for the sun starved pasty white residents of our home. Soak. It. Up.
We went on a long walk with Nora pushing her baby stroller. This makes her ecstatically happy, to be the little mommy. Trent just cackled from behind.
Then we ran into another mommy pushing a stroller! You don't understand people, I need neighborhood mommy friends in a bad way. Or maybe you grasp this from previous postings.
Turns out this neighbor is 43 and just became a stay at home mom. She also wrote a book while pregnant that is about to be published! We got to really talking there on the sidewalk.
Rich has always encouraged me to write a cookbook since he thinks my meals are fabulous. Karen was really knowledgeable of the inner workings of publishing....hmmmm, a little shard of that broken me may be reflecting some sun.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Where I'm At.
Searching. Wishing. Dreaming. Reaching. Grasping
Trying to rediscover all my passions since they seem to have gotten lost along the way. Those little things that add up to so much of who I am and what I wanted to be.
Words are difficult when searching for a lost part of yourself. They can hurt. You. Family. Friends. But what would hurt more? Not saying, not doing, or not reacting at this point is really not an option.
So I'll search for a wish or a dream.
I used to dream about being painter. Not the famous kind. Just one of those artists you'd see off in a field with an easel. In my teenage years, I'd spend hours in the spare bedroom upstairs which constituted my studio. Mom would often scare me out of the painters' trance calling over the intercom for dinner.
I wish for the tranquility of a small town. I want to drive down country roads to see rolling hills of flowers and pastures spotted with trees. I miss the peace of that.
I still dream of owning a small bed and breakfast tucked down the street from a old bandstand and farmers market. Every room offering a different vision of comfort and solace.
The problem.
Somewhere I stopped myself from reaching out to that star on the horizon. The person I was, was crushed. Not by anyone my readers know. This is not an ex, it is not a person I would call friend, I called him boss, this person was weak in his own way. In one act, he redefined how I perceived myself because he had lost his center.
And then took mine.
It's been 8 yrs next month since I was forced to leave that job. It set a new path. I guess, I can thank him for that. For the time at Pike, when I met so many wonderful people before I started out on my own.
Part of the last month has been trying to grasp all the little shards of me as they scattered. Trying to understand the when and how the reflection in the mirror shattered and putting it all back together in a different way.
A better way.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
OMG! Thank goodness for the pharmaceutical pills of happiness today.
Trent has started crawling, it's really more like an inch worming or army crawl that effectively gets him from A to B. YAy!
Now imagine explaining to your once only child that THIS cannot happen anymore.
Did you notice the overly happy munchkin on the right? Yeah, he's loving all the opportunity to chew laying around the room.
Right before T went down for nap she dumped this puzzle of the USA all over the floor. He didn't really notice and I kept an eye out to make sure he wasn't going after it. Notice all the fabulous little pieces.
While a fantastic learning and dexterity tool for my 3 year old with mad fine motor skills. Also, a heart stopping choking hazard for 7.5 month old cuteness.
I asked Nora at 4pm to please pick up the puzzle that it could hurt little brother if he ate the pieces. I was sitting at my drafting desk working on a client plan, landscape designer mommy is starting to feel the spring rush with plans.
I gave her about 15 mins.....She didn't do it.
So I paused the tv and told her that the cartoon she was watching would be stopped until she picked up. To limit when Trent is exposed to tv, there is a rule about NO tv until he goes down for big nap in the afternoon.
Tears....NO, she wanted to watch Super Wwwwwhhhyyyyyy!....''Super Why will come back on when you pick up the puzzle......She didn't do it.
Mommy goes back to work at desk, patiently waiting.
Then she asked for a snack, fruit chewy things. I told her no, not until the puzzle was picked up. So now we are at no tv, no gummies until the puzzle is picked up.
She didn't do it.
So I put her in time out. Sobbing on the stairs while she stared at a wall, wailing about how she missed her daddy. The three year old has determined that daddy would never be so mean! Mommy is obviously the devil.
She came out of time out and picked up two pieces, progress! And then she stopped.
It is now 5pm an hour has passed with the nonsense going on.
I reiterate that it is dangerous for brother, she doesn't want him to get hurt. There will be no tv, no movies and no gummies until it is picked up.
Tears. More sobbing about daddy.
She finally vocalizes this, ''Mommy, I have to put the puzzle away? Because it hurt little Trent? I don't know how to put it mommy. ''
''Nora, you don't have to put it together right now sweetpea, just pile the pieces on the board and put it on the table where brother can't get to it. Brother can eat the pieces, it would hurt him.'' This is about the 6th time I've repeated this same litany of information.
''It could hurt brother, he die?'' I'm not quite sure how she knows that people die, but in this case it came in handy.
''Yes, Nora he could choke and he could die.''
Finally, she starts putting the puzzle pieces away. Thank goodness because I was about to completely lose my cool.
She finally finished and goes, 'Look mommy, I picked up the pieces'...ugh huh you did 1.5 hours after I asked, when it would have taken you 1.5 minutes!
What can I say, I shouldn't be surprised. The stubbornness straight runs strong between Rich and I so genetically this puts her as 'gifted' in bull headedness.
One day she might be appalled at herself.
Trent has started crawling, it's really more like an inch worming or army crawl that effectively gets him from A to B. YAy!
Now imagine explaining to your once only child that THIS cannot happen anymore.
Did you notice the overly happy munchkin on the right? Yeah, he's loving all the opportunity to chew laying around the room.
Right before T went down for nap she dumped this puzzle of the USA all over the floor. He didn't really notice and I kept an eye out to make sure he wasn't going after it. Notice all the fabulous little pieces.
While a fantastic learning and dexterity tool for my 3 year old with mad fine motor skills. Also, a heart stopping choking hazard for 7.5 month old cuteness.
I asked Nora at 4pm to please pick up the puzzle that it could hurt little brother if he ate the pieces. I was sitting at my drafting desk working on a client plan, landscape designer mommy is starting to feel the spring rush with plans.
I gave her about 15 mins.....She didn't do it.
So I paused the tv and told her that the cartoon she was watching would be stopped until she picked up. To limit when Trent is exposed to tv, there is a rule about NO tv until he goes down for big nap in the afternoon.
Tears....NO, she wanted to watch Super Wwwwwhhhyyyyyy!....''Super Why will come back on when you pick up the puzzle......She didn't do it.
Mommy goes back to work at desk, patiently waiting.
Then she asked for a snack, fruit chewy things. I told her no, not until the puzzle was picked up. So now we are at no tv, no gummies until the puzzle is picked up.
She didn't do it.
So I put her in time out. Sobbing on the stairs while she stared at a wall, wailing about how she missed her daddy. The three year old has determined that daddy would never be so mean! Mommy is obviously the devil.
She came out of time out and picked up two pieces, progress! And then she stopped.
It is now 5pm an hour has passed with the nonsense going on.
I reiterate that it is dangerous for brother, she doesn't want him to get hurt. There will be no tv, no movies and no gummies until it is picked up.
Tears. More sobbing about daddy.
She finally vocalizes this, ''Mommy, I have to put the puzzle away? Because it hurt little Trent? I don't know how to put it mommy. ''
''Nora, you don't have to put it together right now sweetpea, just pile the pieces on the board and put it on the table where brother can't get to it. Brother can eat the pieces, it would hurt him.'' This is about the 6th time I've repeated this same litany of information.
''It could hurt brother, he die?'' I'm not quite sure how she knows that people die, but in this case it came in handy.
''Yes, Nora he could choke and he could die.''
Finally, she starts putting the puzzle pieces away. Thank goodness because I was about to completely lose my cool.
She finally finished and goes, 'Look mommy, I picked up the pieces'...ugh huh you did 1.5 hours after I asked, when it would have taken you 1.5 minutes!
What can I say, I shouldn't be surprised. The stubbornness straight runs strong between Rich and I so genetically this puts her as 'gifted' in bull headedness.
One day she might be appalled at herself.
Homemade Cinnomon Rolls
This will be the next Foodie Post....just so you know. They take some time and I haven't found it yet.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
So Stinking Funny
The need to streamline the process of bath evolved into Nora taking showers with me. And sometimes, I let her play in the shower just for fun while I relax reading a book during Trent's nap time.
Just to assure everyone that she is in NO danger. The shower is only 3" deep, has full glass door and panel where I can see her clearly from the larger room with the sinks.
Tonight was like any other evening. Talk to Nora about shower, coerce her into thinking it's a great idea, get her to go potty before. She will tell you, 'NO pee pee in the shower, mommy says its' gross.'' Can you tell she got scolded on that?
Frankly, I hurry through these showers because it gives Nora more time to play by splashing in the small puddle and writing on the steamy glass.
I'd gotten out of the shower, dressed and walked into the next room to talk to Rich about tomorrow hectic schedule. Nora to preschool, Trent to daycare, us to car shop for my fixed car, me to Acworth to a client, draw plan, pick up kiddos, drive to Cumming for client, come home.
I offhandedly mentioned that Nora was singing in the shower.....then listened harder.
'HEEEEEELP!'
Ah, Nora got the door stuck again. It's heavy and if pulled inward Nora doesn't have the strength to reverse the swing.
''I'll be back hon, she's stuck again. Nora, baby? Did you get stuck again?''
''Mommmmmmy help. Let meeee ouuuuuut!''
Turned the corner into the bathroom and get hit with a stench. Oh no she didn't, tell me she didn't
OMG, she did.
Through her hysterics...''Mommmmy I I I ccccccallled you! I I I I geeeet stuck! Ne ne ne need to go poo poo poopy. It it it an ac ac accident, so ter ter ter terrible!!!''
My poor child. Standing naked. In the shower stall. Surrounded by poop. And most rightly mortified at the scene around her.
Oh GAG!
''Rich!!!'''
''Yeah, yeah I'm here. WHat the?!''
''She got the door stuck and couldn't get out, guess that wasn't singing? Ummm, go get some paper towels and spatula. I'll clean it up...you calm her down and dress her.''
Rich comes back weilding the spatula like a server offering a fine bottle of wine to table 5...the smirk said it all - he he he you have to clean up the poo!
I stared at the shower. How much bleach does poop smooshed into grout call for? The quandries of a mom are deep, I know.
The shower is clean now, the child is assured that mommy and daddy KNOW it was an accident, and next time mommy might not wander off.
For now, it just makes a stinking funny story! (pun intended)
Gross, gross, gross! But so funny, all at the same time!!!
Just to assure everyone that she is in NO danger. The shower is only 3" deep, has full glass door and panel where I can see her clearly from the larger room with the sinks.
Tonight was like any other evening. Talk to Nora about shower, coerce her into thinking it's a great idea, get her to go potty before. She will tell you, 'NO pee pee in the shower, mommy says its' gross.'' Can you tell she got scolded on that?
Frankly, I hurry through these showers because it gives Nora more time to play by splashing in the small puddle and writing on the steamy glass.
I'd gotten out of the shower, dressed and walked into the next room to talk to Rich about tomorrow hectic schedule. Nora to preschool, Trent to daycare, us to car shop for my fixed car, me to Acworth to a client, draw plan, pick up kiddos, drive to Cumming for client, come home.
I offhandedly mentioned that Nora was singing in the shower.....then listened harder.
'HEEEEEELP!'
Ah, Nora got the door stuck again. It's heavy and if pulled inward Nora doesn't have the strength to reverse the swing.
''I'll be back hon, she's stuck again. Nora, baby? Did you get stuck again?''
''Mommmmmmy help. Let meeee ouuuuuut!''
Turned the corner into the bathroom and get hit with a stench. Oh no she didn't, tell me she didn't
OMG, she did.
Through her hysterics...''Mommmmy I I I ccccccallled you! I I I I geeeet stuck! Ne ne ne need to go poo poo poopy. It it it an ac ac accident, so ter ter ter terrible!!!''
My poor child. Standing naked. In the shower stall. Surrounded by poop. And most rightly mortified at the scene around her.
Oh GAG!
''Rich!!!'''
''Yeah, yeah I'm here. WHat the?!''
''She got the door stuck and couldn't get out, guess that wasn't singing? Ummm, go get some paper towels and spatula. I'll clean it up...you calm her down and dress her.''
Rich comes back weilding the spatula like a server offering a fine bottle of wine to table 5...the smirk said it all - he he he you have to clean up the poo!
I stared at the shower. How much bleach does poop smooshed into grout call for? The quandries of a mom are deep, I know.
The shower is clean now, the child is assured that mommy and daddy KNOW it was an accident, and next time mommy might not wander off.
For now, it just makes a stinking funny story! (pun intended)
Gross, gross, gross! But so funny, all at the same time!!!
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
The Week I Lost My Mind
This post will be dedicated to all my female friends that walked me from lost to the other side of the street in the last two weeks. Ironically, I've not met most of you in real life, but your thoughts and love can bring me to tears. You are so loved in return.
I told you in the last post that a lot has been going on. Truth is, most of it has been going on in my head. Seems my hormones had me raging, spiraling, and drowning.
Ugh! Where do I even begin on this. I feel like it's so important to be honest so other women know it's ok, you will get to the other side.
The beginning.
It started slowly in November, there is no date I can pinpoint in my mind. I do remember not being able to sleep after Trent woke me up at night. Laying in bed after the 4:30am feeding, watching the clock tick by. Sometime the next morning I'd tell Rich, 'Yeah, I think I fell back to sleep around 6am. or at least that's the last time I saw the clock.'
At the time, I thought it was busy mom syndrome. Just my mind starting to make lists in the middle of the night of the need to's and have to's for the next day.
Thanksgiving in Texas seem to revive me a bit. Time with family. Great bonding with my sister. Life was great, but I still wasn't sleeping.
Then I got the flu. I got so dehydrated that urgent care hooked me up to two bags of fluids. Rich was awesome, he always amazes me at stepping up when it's needed most. Trent, my boob-a-holic breastfed baby was on short supply due to mommy not being able to catch up on the dehydration.
In that four days of flu chaos, Trent's will broke and he finally took a bottle at almost 6 mths old. And there was no going back, we cold turkied the cherubic, little addict right off breastfeeding.
Little did we know what this would do to ME at the time.
It was almost Christmas and I just really wasn't feeling it. Bah hum bug. Didn't want to go anywhere. Wasn't happy about much of anything. Started getting really frustrated with things around the house. The kids. The cleaning. The budget. The spouse.
Christmas is my favorite time of year. This did not make sense.
Then the family arrived, but not mine. It was all of Rich's family. Let me state now, that I love my in-laws, but I got pissed. Every. Single. Meal. for eight days was to be at their house. We'd invite the cousins over to play, only to be told they wouldn't leave the Nonnie. I actually remember raging at Rich that ''Some adult in that house needs to realize that Christmas is happening at our house too! I want memories of Trent's first in MY den, at MY dining table.'' (If my in laws read this, know that I love you it was just the hormones!)
Spiral, spiral, spiraling into the rage I went.
Now, I was angry at life, angry that I'd given up my career, angry that I couldn't sleep, angry that Nora wanted to play with me, angry that Trent was not being his happy baby self.....
Down came the snow. Snow that trapped us in the house for almost a week.
I lost my mind.
I was vacillating between ecstatically happy to see the kids and annoyed that they were not somewhere else. I would count the minutes until bedtime when I would be free again to be me, except not me. I just didn't want to be mommy, and honestly...I barely wanted to be a wife either. My brain was on a BLAH setting that I couldn't disengaged.
Me would have done the laundry. Me would have run errands. Me would have gone to the gym. Me would not have screamed at my 3 year old. Me would have answered the phone when friends called. Me would not be raging against the blessing of being able to stay home with the kids. Me wouldn't have my husband looking at me with concern and almost fear at my mood swings.
I was drowning and didn't understand why. I did understand that my body hadn't had more than 4 hours of sleep a night for well over a month and it wasn't because of Trent. You shouldn't look at your child as you rock them to sleep and beg for them not to wake up that night so maybe, just maybe you'll sleep. I also understood that I had no appetite, zilch.
Rich convinced me to go to the doctor on Monday, January 24th. Come to find out, that cold turkey breastfeeding plan had sent my hormones over the edge into a delayed post-partum depressive state with induce insomnia. All that feel good oxytocin that breastfeeding releases was gone....according to Dr. Parman my body went into a withdrawal spiral, like a drug addict deemed delayed post-partum depression.
He writes me a script and off I go thinking all will be fixed in a couple days. Hahaha, oh little did I know!
The prescribed med sent me over the freaking edge. One little pill....so much power.
It was a vicious circle. Every evening as the sun went down my anxiety went up, I was anxious about not being able to sleep, and because I couldn't sleep my brain got more fried and scrambled. I was afraid to be with the kids, not because I wanted to hurt them. NO! But because my mind was telling me 'Your not being a good mom right now, anywhere would be better, they need someone to be happy, you could be hurting them emotionally.'...
By the following Sunday night, I'd only had about 10 hrs of sleep in 5 days, couldn't even make coherent sentences, was nauseous all the time and it was a good day if I ate a yogurt and a granola bar. Weight loss at this point was about a pound a day.
I don't remember a lot about that weekend.
We went out to eat with a friend and I couldn't tell you one thing we talked about at that meal. Almost the whole meal from Ruth Chris came home in to go boxes, looking back I'm surprised the waitress didn't ask if something was wrong with the food.
I do remember telling one of my friends that refers to me as 'Betty Crocker' because of my domesticity that it was more like 'Betty Cracker' now.
Rich took the kids to his parents on Sunday morning at 10am, I napped for about 4 hours that day. My mother in law held me late in the afternoon as I cried because I was so thankful to have the help. She understood, 'I didn't know which way to turn, my world was upside down.' I know on Sunday night before January 31st I was having an anxiety attack about every 1.5 hrs according to Rich, felt like my brain was vibrating in my own head, and at one point begged Rich to make it stop.
I think we've named that night the scariest in our marriage yet. It was a dark, dark moment.
The next day we found ourselves back at Dr. Parman's office. Best explanation, the prescription I was on can cause insomnia in rare cases, it can also exacerbate symptoms....yeah that's an understatement. Unfortunately, I'm one of those people that has the 'rare' symptoms if I react to a medication.
New orders. New meds. A prayer, 'please God let this work, make me whole again.'
Came home. Took one fantastic Xanex, sleep like your in a coma pill and woke up almost 6 hours later at 6pm. That night, I took the Ambien that was prescribed and passed out mid-sentence on the couch at 9:30pm.
The next day, I stood in my bathroom staring at the newest pill in my trio of pharmacuetical happiness with trepidation. I didn't want a repeat of Sunday night, just the thought of that put me in a cold sweat and tremors.
Gulp, it was down and then there was a calm in me. A calm that I hadn't felt in almost two months. There is no decription that I can give to properly define it. Contentment. Hope. Love.
One little pill....so much power, but this time to restore not destroy.
I sat on the floor and played with Nora and Trent's whining didn't sound like nails on a chalkboard anymore. My mom was headed in to help and there was assurance for my heart in that.
I would be ok. But for a time in my life, I was vulnerable, afraid, confused, lost.
I told you in the last post that a lot has been going on. Truth is, most of it has been going on in my head. Seems my hormones had me raging, spiraling, and drowning.
Ugh! Where do I even begin on this. I feel like it's so important to be honest so other women know it's ok, you will get to the other side.
The beginning.
It started slowly in November, there is no date I can pinpoint in my mind. I do remember not being able to sleep after Trent woke me up at night. Laying in bed after the 4:30am feeding, watching the clock tick by. Sometime the next morning I'd tell Rich, 'Yeah, I think I fell back to sleep around 6am. or at least that's the last time I saw the clock.'
At the time, I thought it was busy mom syndrome. Just my mind starting to make lists in the middle of the night of the need to's and have to's for the next day.
Thanksgiving in Texas seem to revive me a bit. Time with family. Great bonding with my sister. Life was great, but I still wasn't sleeping.
Then I got the flu. I got so dehydrated that urgent care hooked me up to two bags of fluids. Rich was awesome, he always amazes me at stepping up when it's needed most. Trent, my boob-a-holic breastfed baby was on short supply due to mommy not being able to catch up on the dehydration.
In that four days of flu chaos, Trent's will broke and he finally took a bottle at almost 6 mths old. And there was no going back, we cold turkied the cherubic, little addict right off breastfeeding.
Little did we know what this would do to ME at the time.
It was almost Christmas and I just really wasn't feeling it. Bah hum bug. Didn't want to go anywhere. Wasn't happy about much of anything. Started getting really frustrated with things around the house. The kids. The cleaning. The budget. The spouse.
Christmas is my favorite time of year. This did not make sense.
Then the family arrived, but not mine. It was all of Rich's family. Let me state now, that I love my in-laws, but I got pissed. Every. Single. Meal. for eight days was to be at their house. We'd invite the cousins over to play, only to be told they wouldn't leave the Nonnie. I actually remember raging at Rich that ''Some adult in that house needs to realize that Christmas is happening at our house too! I want memories of Trent's first in MY den, at MY dining table.'' (If my in laws read this, know that I love you it was just the hormones!)
Spiral, spiral, spiraling into the rage I went.
Now, I was angry at life, angry that I'd given up my career, angry that I couldn't sleep, angry that Nora wanted to play with me, angry that Trent was not being his happy baby self.....
Down came the snow. Snow that trapped us in the house for almost a week.
I lost my mind.
I was vacillating between ecstatically happy to see the kids and annoyed that they were not somewhere else. I would count the minutes until bedtime when I would be free again to be me, except not me. I just didn't want to be mommy, and honestly...I barely wanted to be a wife either. My brain was on a BLAH setting that I couldn't disengaged.
Me would have done the laundry. Me would have run errands. Me would have gone to the gym. Me would not have screamed at my 3 year old. Me would have answered the phone when friends called. Me would not be raging against the blessing of being able to stay home with the kids. Me wouldn't have my husband looking at me with concern and almost fear at my mood swings.
I was drowning and didn't understand why. I did understand that my body hadn't had more than 4 hours of sleep a night for well over a month and it wasn't because of Trent. You shouldn't look at your child as you rock them to sleep and beg for them not to wake up that night so maybe, just maybe you'll sleep. I also understood that I had no appetite, zilch.
Rich convinced me to go to the doctor on Monday, January 24th. Come to find out, that cold turkey breastfeeding plan had sent my hormones over the edge into a delayed post-partum depressive state with induce insomnia. All that feel good oxytocin that breastfeeding releases was gone....according to Dr. Parman my body went into a withdrawal spiral, like a drug addict deemed delayed post-partum depression.
He writes me a script and off I go thinking all will be fixed in a couple days. Hahaha, oh little did I know!
The prescribed med sent me over the freaking edge. One little pill....so much power.
It was a vicious circle. Every evening as the sun went down my anxiety went up, I was anxious about not being able to sleep, and because I couldn't sleep my brain got more fried and scrambled. I was afraid to be with the kids, not because I wanted to hurt them. NO! But because my mind was telling me 'Your not being a good mom right now, anywhere would be better, they need someone to be happy, you could be hurting them emotionally.'...
By the following Sunday night, I'd only had about 10 hrs of sleep in 5 days, couldn't even make coherent sentences, was nauseous all the time and it was a good day if I ate a yogurt and a granola bar. Weight loss at this point was about a pound a day.
I don't remember a lot about that weekend.
We went out to eat with a friend and I couldn't tell you one thing we talked about at that meal. Almost the whole meal from Ruth Chris came home in to go boxes, looking back I'm surprised the waitress didn't ask if something was wrong with the food.
I do remember telling one of my friends that refers to me as 'Betty Crocker' because of my domesticity that it was more like 'Betty Cracker' now.
Rich took the kids to his parents on Sunday morning at 10am, I napped for about 4 hours that day. My mother in law held me late in the afternoon as I cried because I was so thankful to have the help. She understood, 'I didn't know which way to turn, my world was upside down.' I know on Sunday night before January 31st I was having an anxiety attack about every 1.5 hrs according to Rich, felt like my brain was vibrating in my own head, and at one point begged Rich to make it stop.
I think we've named that night the scariest in our marriage yet. It was a dark, dark moment.
The next day we found ourselves back at Dr. Parman's office. Best explanation, the prescription I was on can cause insomnia in rare cases, it can also exacerbate symptoms....yeah that's an understatement. Unfortunately, I'm one of those people that has the 'rare' symptoms if I react to a medication.
New orders. New meds. A prayer, 'please God let this work, make me whole again.'
Came home. Took one fantastic Xanex, sleep like your in a coma pill and woke up almost 6 hours later at 6pm. That night, I took the Ambien that was prescribed and passed out mid-sentence on the couch at 9:30pm.
The next day, I stood in my bathroom staring at the newest pill in my trio of pharmacuetical happiness with trepidation. I didn't want a repeat of Sunday night, just the thought of that put me in a cold sweat and tremors.
Gulp, it was down and then there was a calm in me. A calm that I hadn't felt in almost two months. There is no decription that I can give to properly define it. Contentment. Hope. Love.
One little pill....so much power, but this time to restore not destroy.
I sat on the floor and played with Nora and Trent's whining didn't sound like nails on a chalkboard anymore. My mom was headed in to help and there was assurance for my heart in that.
I would be ok. But for a time in my life, I was vulnerable, afraid, confused, lost.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Foodie Sunday
There's a LOT that's been going on lately so I'll post more about that later. But for now, here's your foodie post for the week.
Breakfast Egg and Green Chili Cassarole
1 package (6 count) English Muffin
butter
12 eggs
1 16 oz. sour cream
1 small can chopped green chilis
1 lb breakfast sausage cooked
grated cheese
1. Lightly spray 9x13 pan.
2. Butter english muffins and place face down in pan. You may have to cut a few in little pieces to fill in the gaps.
3. In large bowl beat 12 eggs, add in sour cream, green chilis, cooked breakfast sausage.
4. Sprinkle grated cheese on top of english muffins already in 9x13, about 1 cup
5. Pour egg mixture on top of english muffins
6. Sprinkle more cheese, about 1 cup on top.
7. Refrigerate overnight.
8. Bake at 375 degrees for about 45-1 hr the next morning.
Serve with hot sauce or salsa of your choice.
(Note: This freezes REALLY well. I often make a batch and divide into portions, pop in the microwave on med. heat and out the door I go)
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