Jeff and Tony and Nicolas OH MY!

Here I am, settling in with a scoop of Cheesecake filling (Blast You Philadelphia!) and a can of Pepsi, leftovers from my sons very first Birthday party yesterday. We had wonderful weather at the park and a great turnout. A few people were missing that might or might not have hurt my feelings by not coming, but, it was all about Nicolas, not me, so... whatever. I'm trying to catch myself up (Could someone put out a memo that it is spelled "Catch", not "Ketch"? Seriously...) on what's been going on and mostly, it sounds like a lot of the same stuff. Problem is, the same stuff is lingering, or going away and then coming back. The other problem is that I don't name names about work or family, so a lot of the REALLY good stuff has to be censored because I still care about being found out at work or I'm still trying to keep family members in my life. So, updates abound:

My brother is currently back in Neuro ICU, but hopefully it is very temporary. He had surgery a few days ago to put the part of his skull back in that was removed when they had to take part of his brain out in July. He has a nice round head again! The surgery was Friday and he was prepared, a little nervous, but he was okay. On Saturday, he was doing fine, but then on Sunday he became very agitated and began hallucinating. They did a CT Scan to try and figure out what was going on, but no word yet on what they believe is causing this. I have my suspicions, but I'm not a Doctor, so I'll just keep them to myself. They moved him out of Post Surgical ICU and back to Neuro ICU. He was sitting up and eating when I saw him today. He was able to have a conversation, but was easily confused and couldn't remember some events from yesterday. I'm trying to encourage him to blog when he gets home (hopefully will be this week) because I think he could greatly benefit from the cathartic effect of blogging. He is aware that he is slower than he used to be and that things are harder for him than they were. Sometimes, speaking to him, it is clear that he has suffered a brain injury and sometimes it is not. I've found one blog by a brain injury patient and I would love to show it to him. I would love to be able to spend some time every day with him helping him come to terms with what has happened and how to move forward, how to deal with the depression and how to see that he can progress even more but that he would have to put more effort into it. I love my brother very much and I pray everyday for his continued recovery.

Husband has finally been given the all clear on his back surgery! YAY!!! He would do it all over again too. He feels about 90% better than he did before the surgery. He is going back to school starting in January and I am super excited for him! Unfortunately, he has run into another circus of medical treatments: After his surgery, he was on a medication for pain that he believed also helped his mood. He had the med refilled specifically for it's anti-depressant benefits (off label). He then had blood drawn so his Primary Doctor could make sure there wasn't some other thing going on that would cause the Depression. Now, I am not a Doctor, but riddle me this: How does anyone welcome their first child, go on medical disability, get laid off and have back surgery in the span of EIGHT months and NOT end up with a little depression? SERIOUSLY!!!!! But nooooooooooo, the Dr. that pushed for the blood draw came back a few days later, forced a redraw and diagnosed my Husband with Low Testosterone. He has NO OTHER SYMPTOMS. There is no low sex drive, clearly the sperm count seems okay and his body hair is right where it should be. SO, WTF? Dr. puts him on a Testosterone patch. Husband begins analyzing every single change in his mood, in his body and begins thinking that the LT was the cause for everything ever. Then, he starts getting fevers. He's up to three fevers a day for the last two and a half weeks. Dr. took him off the patch, but thinks something else must be wrong if he's continuing to get the fevers... so, Husband is going every couple of days to his Dr. to find out what the hell is wrong. In the meantime, he's connected with a Psychologist for the Depression, he has to have MRI's and CT Scans on various body parts and he still sees his Spine Surgeon once a month. So, yeah, his appointments are hard to keep up with. (Sidebar 1: I have a great respect for his Dr., I really do. I just think if you look hard enough, you're bound to find something. Sidebar 2: I have a great deal of experience with my own psych disorders, so I am not discrediting the idea of the Depression, nor the importance in treating it, I simply think the Dr. may be off the mark a bit.)

And that leads me to my baby. My sweet baby boy turned ONE today and it has been one helluva year. In one respect, the things that have happened in the house make it difficult to view this as an awesome year, but in another, it strikes me as so very wonderful that my son has had the best year of his life. A better first year than any of his siblings will have. BOTH of his parents were home through all of it. Granted, not under the best of circumstances, and certainly not without financial struggle, if not demise, BUT that baby boy doesn't even realize this isn't normal, and it breaks my heart that the moon and stars will never align in this way again for any of our future children. But boy oh boy, I love this child. He has changed my life. I know children are supposed to, but I didn't know it would be this drastic. I'm nicer, more patient, more accepting and more empathetic. I also get my feelings hurt easier and expect much more from other people than ever before. I can now put myself in any parents shoes, whether I want to or not. It's far more difficult to watch the news, or even a Movie/TV show that references a child, especially a baby. It's also far more difficult to understand the choices some parents make regardless of how old the child is. I am more judgmental towards other parents but also more understanding of their perspective and their battles. There are certain songs I've loved forever that take on such greater meaning now, I can barely keep myself from pulling to the side of the road to weep into my hands because I'm so overcome with emotion at that very moment. Right now, as he sleeps, I consider how lucky I am to have had him happen to me and it makes everything else go away. All of the stress and chaos of the last year, so very little of it has to do with him, but at the end of each and every day, I squeeze that baby and my world is righted again. He is all that matters. And today, he turned ONE. Happy Birthday Sweet Baby Boy!

Dear Jeffy: Welcome Home

So, two weeks ago was the post of how my brother came to be in Neuro ICU. Since then, he managed to pull out every tube he was connected to, moved out of ICU and to the Neuro floor, switched to a Private Room, uttered my name, uttered many incoherent sentences, mixed incoherent with preposterous sentences and finally... made many sentences that actually mean something.

His recovery once he moved to his Private Room was as fast as lightning. He had to have a sitter 24/7 because they were afraid that with all of his movement, he would hurt himself. Last weekend, he started packing every time I or my mom went to see him because he believed we were there to pick him up and take him home.

This past Tuesday, my mom was informed that his application for a Neuro Rehab facility was declined because he was "too well". I don't know who made that call, but on Wednesday, my mom had no choice but to take him home to her house.

I've had a couple of long conversations with Jeff and his status as of now is this: He can dial a phone, he has cut a lawn, he gets confused and slurry the later in the day it is and he remembers his email password. He is depressed because a lot of the things he had forgotten are coming back to him (no word yet on HOW this happened, he says he really does not remember) and some memories are probably a little painful for him to re-experience. Yesterday we spent the day with him at my moms and he started many sentences only to have forgotten what he was saying by the end of the sentence. He still remembers how to get to the store and home by himself.

He seems very angry with my mom, and I'm not sure why. I could guess, but I don't want to slander or destroy anyone. Today he's gone bowling with my mom's husband and some of his family.

Overall, his recovery is progressing fantastically, he could probably do a few more things, or, rather, NOT do some things, to mke it even better, but he's so close to being back to himself that even if this is the best we get, we're lucky. He has some problems understanding that there are things that he does that he thinks are funny, that are not. (Like beating Husband with a dirty paper plate)... he does seem more outwardly mean than he ever was before the accident for sure.

I am glad this part of the process is over. There are still many battles ahead for him. He still has to have that part of his skull put back together and he still has to come to terms with many of the things he has forgotten that come back, all over again. He has a long road and, as of yet, he has not begun to look forward. I want to look forward for him, but I can't make him see. I hope he sees it soon.

Dear Jeffy: ICP Ain't Just a Shitty Band From Detroit Anymore

I've started this post a number of times, trying to decide the tone. I keep finding myself all over the map and I would prefer you not need GPS and a notepad to keep up. I hate to put off beginning the actual post, but I am having such a hard time here. I want to explain things that have happened, without sounding judgmental, without including my own feelings and without turning this post into a history of how I came to be the way that I am. It's more difficult than you might think. So, I will try it this way:

My brother, Jeff (this one) is in Neuro ICU.

On Saturday July 4, 2009, my mother called me numerous times before 8am. At 11:00pm the night before, she heard a funny noise coming from her basement, she went downstairs to discover that Jeff was having a seizure. She called 911, EMS couldn't get him to stop seizing, they transported him to a local hospital, they measured his Intracranial Pressure (ICP) and it was measuring 25mmHg (the normal levels are between 5 and 8. 45-50 indicates brain death). They immediately drilled a hole in his skull to relieve the pressure, this brought his levels down to app. 18. The local hospital transported him to a much bigger hospital and that's where he has been since.

Much of the first day is a blur, no real information as to how this happened or what to expect was given. The doctors were pretty certain he suffered a head trauma and quite certain that he had been bleeding into his brain for about two days. The only thing we could do was recount the previous days and compare notes to see if there was some indication that something was off. There were many. None of which I will talk about in this post, because I can't do it analytically. All I will say is that hindsight is 20/20 and I hope that my brothers prognosis hasn't been altered by assumptions made during the days leading up to the seizure.

As the days have gone by, there hasn't been too much to report. A lot of the same information, every single day:

They lower sedation around 8am and the docs do rounds. He is very agitated and tries to pull the vent and catheter and IV's out. They have had to restrain him. Up until yesterday, they had upgraded to leather restraints. All of this thrashing and battle, but no response to commands. They tell him to wiggle his toes and he doesn't (the first day, they had indicated he could do one foot, but not the other), they tell him to give a thumbs up and he doesn't. Same thing, every day. No decline though.

We get some response from him when we visit, seemingly purposeful movements toward us, looking at us, holding his hand up to us, appearing to try to talk around the tubes down his throat and a few tears that don't seem like random eye waterings to me.

I'm not a "head in the sand" kind of gal. I know what's happening. I know it's likely that he won't be exactly the same ever. I know it's possible that he won't be able to function on his own. I also know it's possible that he will make a good recovery, not full, but good. I say this because I believe they are purposeful movements. I'm one of the most cynical, disbelieving people you will ever meet. One of my mottos is "Expect the worst and be pleasantly surprised", so I am not fooling myself here. I just do not feel like this is the best it gets for him.

Over the last 10 days, we have learned some interesting things at least everyday. We have learned that they had a bolt in his head to measure the ICP, we also learned that when a patient tries to remove it, sometimes they can't get it back in. This was kind of a blessing, because he was reminding me a bit of the Jack in the Box Restaurant character, with a pointy cone off to the side of his head. BUT, they said they were done with it anyway. A lesion in his brain was preventing the bolt from getting a good read. We've learned that every hour they do a neural check, coaxing him to respond to commands and that every two hours they change his position to prevent bed sores. We have learned that his Glasgow Coma Score is actually around an 11 or 12, not a 9 as I had figured in my head. We've learned that part of his thrashing and punching (!) might actually be from alcohol withdrawals and not just the brain injury. And yesterday we learned that sometimes, even after a full week in the ICU, after the injury has peaked at 3 days, sometimes it is necessary to perform emergency neurosurgery to remove the part of the brain that is damaged. AND that, once they remove the part of the skull for the surgery, they put it in a deep freezer and wait 3 months before they put it back in. We learned this when consent was needed at 8am yesterday morning to do this procedure. His brain had swelled, causing a shift that might lead to a stroke if left untreated. The surgery was successful. No additional loss of function most likely, because the area was already damaged and, probably, dead.

Today we learned that a central line can sometimes cause an infection, or at least, that's what we are hoping has caused him to have a high fever the last couple of days. They put in a new central line, but cannot remove the old one until they are certain the new one is well placed. Once they remove the old one, they will send it to the lab to find out if it was causing an infection. Today, I also learned that when part of your skull is missing, the fluid needs to go somewhere and might pool around your eye socket causing a swelling that is quite shocking when one is not prepared for it. Today, we learned that, along with the brain injury, the origin of which we still do not know, there is also a fracture of two vertebrae in his neck. WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO MY BROTHER??

I'm not expecting to ever find out, but if we do, I will be pleasantly surprised.

Penis, Circumcision, Vagina, Boobs and Gorillas

This is a test
A what?
A test
A what
A test
Oh, a test

(Throwback to one of the first plays I was ever in. Not too many people get it, but whenever I hear someone say "This is a test" or "This is a book", the above dialogue goes through my head. If you've done the exercise, you and I are now equally dorky. SWEET!) Ahem, I digress...

Kim at Yellow Trash Diaries has a theory and I am testing it.

Would you like to begin?

1) My son's PENIS is not CIRCUMCISED. I do not wish to start a cause here. It was a decision Husband and I made and, should Wee One ever regret our decision, he can always reverse it.
2) Husband had back surgery four weeks ago today. The morning of his surgery, I asked his surgeon (whom I shall dub "Mr. Fantastic-And-Kinda-Hot-Too") when he would be able to "perform" again. Mr. FAKHT said two weeks. No shit - two weeks plus two days later, Husband confirmed that his PENIS works. He feels much better about the surgery now. I think he thought it was going to take his ability to get laid away. Really dodged a bullet there, sweetheart...
3) I still have VAGINA Knives. I have no idea what the pain is, but it didn't go away with my hCG levels. Hurts like a bitch, but it's not as frequent as when I was prego.
4) About my BOOBS: They are working for a livin... but they aren't as productive as I think they should be. I've given them some performance enhancing Fenugreek, but I still am not convinced they are working at the pace I would prefer. And you're welcome if that song is in your head now (whoa-oh-whoa workin for a livin...)
5) GORILLAS. I got nothin. Just wanted to include it.
6) Also, I am in love with Gene Simmons Family Jewels. Truly. I've never been a HUGE Kiss fan, I mean, everyone loves a little Detroit Rock City, but I never had an interest in the show until I accidentally watched an episode the other night (the one where he takes a lie detector test for Shannon). And now, oh yes, it has been programmed on my DVR. Alongside Kathy Griffin and Tori Spelling because I love women who have an enormous Homosexual fan base.

Those are my thoughts.
Your what?
My thoughts
Your what?
My thoughts
Oh your thoughts

Fenugreek and Me

Started taking Fenugreek yesterday to increase my milk supply. If Wee One wasn't busy going clockwise through my office pulling everything down, I'd tell you about it.

Seriously, he started at one side of the room and as I've moved things, he just keeps moving around the room looking for things. He's also begun that wonderful stage of separation anxiety. I wasn't sure until today. I also didn't know it would affect his sleep. HOLY SHIT! I went from having this perfect sleeper to He Who Won't Stop Screaming From His Crib overnight. Sigh.

Gotta go, CD's are toppling....

Husband Update

Husband had surgery on his spine a little over two weeks ago. Decompression and fusion of L4 and L5. The first few days were very rough for him, he had consistent agonizing pain that didn't seem to be touched by narcotics. Finally on Day 4 of the writhing, the day they were to discharge him, they gave him a shot of steroids to relieve some of the pain in his sciatic nerve. Apparently they had angered the fellow during surgery and the pain that couldn't be touched with Vicodin, Oxycodone and the overdose of Dilaudid suddenly disappeared. Awesome. For three days I felt like I was sitting at the death bed of a loved one and poof, all better. Well, as better as one can get after that surgery.

He is doing well, better than expected. he can walk long distances and is down to three Vicodin a day. He still has restrictions on lifting, bending and twisting, none of which he will be able to do until August 21 (not that I'm counting down or anything). He can grill, he can drive and we bought him the Gopher III over the weekend, so now I don't have to run out of my office and pick things up for him AND he can help put away Wee One's toys. He's getting to be pretty self sufficient, but can't really help with the baby or the house cleaning and, obviously, can't work until he's fully recovered.

To deal with the stresses of feeling like I'm going it alone, I made up with my friend the anti-depressant. We've come to an understanding: I will continue to put up with it's silly side effects and it will help me cope with the rage I feel every night. It's working for us. As to the stuff that needs to get done, I won't lie to you... if my house is clean when you come over, it's because I knew you were coming or someone else had pity on our son and didn't want to see him crawling through dust bunnies anymore. If my vehicle is in the driveway, it's because I managed to pay the bill the day before it got repossessed. And if I have electricity and gas service, it's only because I slipped a twenty to the tech who came out to turn it off. I'm barely keeping my shit together most days. But, my Husband is recovering BEAUTIFULLY and he quit smoking which ROCKS. I do not think now is a good time for me to give up my half a pack a day... the voices in my head have requested I not. So, for all of the naysayers mentioned in the previous post... I must stick my tongue out and blow a raspberry in your general vicinity. And, all things considered... life is good and wonderful!

More Ways To Put Off Important Stuff

Oh crap! I just figured out I can post from my phone. I thought I had an addiction to checking all of my online accounts before, but this might be bordering on 'out of control'. Husband and I got new phones the other day (insert shameless Samsung Instinct plug here), they count as our Mothers and Fathers Day gifts (thank you Wee One!) and now I am more compulsive than ever. Ah shit. I may need an intervention. But let me just check MySpace, Twitter, Facebook and Gmail just one more time first ...

How Inconsiderate Are You?

I would have preferred to have titled this post "How Retarded Are You?", but I don't wish to insult those with mental disabilities and challenges who have MORE compassion and understanding of tact and diplomacy than those Fucking Idiots I am about to strike out against.

Husband has to have surgery on his back. The long and short of it is this: when the baby was born, Husband took off two weeks of work. The day he returned to his physically demanding job, he broke himself. It seems that having gone JUST TWO WEEKS without lifting, bending or pulling caused his body to reject the idea of such labor when he returned to work. He was originally diagnosed with Spina Bifida years ago. His diagnosis at the time the baby was born was Sciatica. He endured 10 weeks of physical therapy, countless insults from his employer and a lot of regrets over not having gone to the Employee clinic when he first injured himself. (He thinks they are morons at the Clinic so he went to his Primary Care Physician, who is also a moron, but less so. We were in the process of changing his PCP, but he couldn't get in in a timely fashion - so now there's a lawsuit with Workers Comp, but I digress...)

Fast forward beyond PT and his new PCP refers him to a Back Specialist. Said Back Specialist tells him that he does NOT have Spina Bifida (as his original PCP diagnosed him with) and he does NOT have Sciatica (as his original AND more recent PCP diagnosed him with AND what the PT was treating), but that he has a Spinal Fracture/Degenerative Disc thing called Spondylolisthesis (Spondy for short) and will require surgery. At this point, our house is nearing the brink of foreclosure because he hasn't had a paycheck in 3 months and we're hiding our cars, just in case. Husband and I decide that the next move has to require him being doped up and returning to work. He gets his work release (Against Medical Advice)for March 5 and on March 2, his employer called him and told him to not worry about returning to work, there were layoffs and he was one of them (no, he was no longer protected by FMLA or Short Term Disability as his protection had lapsed with time and diagnoses). So, he began the unemployment process, and the No Worker Left Behind process. So, now we have time in our schedule to tackle the surgery, as if you really ever find time to have your life interrupted for months, reducing you to asking for help every time you drop something or need to carry anything heavier than 10 pounds.

Surgery to fuse his spine and insert rods is scheduled for the 21st of May and, as such, the topic keeps coming up. Here is just a sampling of responses to the news of his surgery:

a) You'll never be the same. Goodbye. There goes Tony. (SERIOUSLY! From his dad)
b) My "insert relation here" had that surgery and they were worse off after the fact (from any NUMBER of people)
c) Good luck with that (dripping with the sarcasm of someone who believes both a and b above)
d) My father died because of that surgery (a close friend of our family)
e) Ew. Better you than me. That's why I don't go to the doctor (Nameless)
f) My cousin is still in a wheelchair and he had the surgery 3 years ago (Random person who OVERHEARD me telling someone about the surgery)
f) My favorite waited until we were out of earshot and started telling my dad HORROR stories of ALL of the people she knew that had the surgery)

Thank you people. A big FUCKING thank you. Do you not believe that if we had a choice, we would CHOOSE to do this? My Husband cannot walk for long periods of time, cannot stand for long periods of time, cannot sleep well at night, cannot carry our son for more than ten minutes and CANNOT WORK. So, NO WE ARE NOT CHOOSING TO DO THIS BECAUSE IT SEEMS LIKE FUN. We are doing this in hopes that even if he is only 80% better, he will still be 80% better off! We are hoping that with this surgery comes relief from pain. That with this surgery will return a quality of life that has been missing for damned near 8 months! So FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU AND YOUR FUCKING IGNORANCE AND YOUR FUCKING KNOW IT ALL-NESS THAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU HAVE ANY FUCKING PLACE IN OUR LIFE TO GIVE ANY SOLIDITY TO THE FEARS THAT ALREADY GO THROUGH OUR HEADS EVERY FUCKING DAY! HOW FUCKING INCONSIDERATE AND STUPID ARE YOU?

One would think that the resolution to this is to stop telling people, but since I have to arrange for care for our son, it does require telling some people. Also, people know that Husband isn't working and why and so every time we see them, they ask how he is doing and what happens next.

And so, we are left with trying to focus on the ONLY two positive responses, which, by the way, are the only ones we WANT to care about:

a) I hope things go smoothly and this chapter of your life seamlessly and positively comes to an end (my dad)
b) On a scale of 1 to 10, this is a 4 on complexity of surgery. I can guarantee you will feel much better, at least 85% and, with your age, I think you will heal quickly and be able to return to work. You will be able to play football with your son and you will be able to do yard work and you could return to your previous position, but it would be non-sensible to do so. I have a lot of faith in this surgery. If it was going to cripple you or make things worse, I would tell you to wait 20 years for it. (his back surgeon, who, by the way, is one of the best in Michigan, if not the U.S. - He has authored numerous scientific articles and textbook chapters on surgery of the spine and has lectured extensively about spine trauma and reconstructive spinal surgery. In addition, he pursues research interests on spinal surgery and is a leading researcher on bone morphogenetic proteins (BMP’s) and cervical disc replacements. He instructs medical students, orthopaedic residents and spine fellows at Beaumont Hospital, is the Editor In Chief of the Journal of American Academy of Orthopaedics AND leads clinical trials nationwide for FDA approval of processes for speeding the healing time and pain management of Spinal Surgeries.... so yeah, we trust him)

For the rest of you, just because you know someone that it happened to, doesn't make it interesting to us. It is not your job to "inform us of the risks" - we pay a very expensive doctor to do that for us, and if you were qualified to give such information, you wouldn't have so much time on your hands. So shut the fuck up and go torture someone else with all of your "knowledge" about medicine. I nominate you to take some courses on personality and empathy. Or better yet, I'll wait until you're scared shitless about something and return the favor by reinforcing your fears.

I can't wait!!

Oh, Come On!

What is wrong with me? I have a work file I need to finish and I've decided that I need to finish it tonight so that my weekend is free of at least one job. But as I sit here at my computer, I don't have the energy. So, I print off my banking transactions in an effort to send out payments for bills (which, by the way, I didn't do the entire month of April, so, yeah, it needs to be done pretty badly). As I look at the three pages of transactions I need to update my checkbook with, I put that to the side too. Then, I'm thinking about how I should go hang out with the baby because he's going to bed soon, but I convince myself that I need to stay in the office and get EITHER work file completed OR bills paid. What resolution have I come to? In the last 40 minutes, I've tweeted, checked MySpace and my Gmail accounts numerous times. Really. Like, logged all the way in and all the way out MULTIPLE times.

Might as well post it. That took two minutes.

Sigh. Off to the living room. Wee One is having a meltdown and Husband keeps yelling NO. Probably involves the lamp cord or the kitchen chair blocking his path to the cat food bowls he wants to eat out of. Adventurous one he is. Sigh.

Saturday Morning Peeves

a) Having flat hair.
b) Saying stupid things on the air. For example - "It's going to be partly cloudy today, so we may see a few clouds." Duh.
c) Friends who are having a difficult time, so they alienate the people that care about them.
d) No longer having a mailbox at work, so I miss VITAL information.
e) People who make long term commitments and then scramble to cover their existing obligations.
f) Weak coffee.
g) Making a new pot of coffee and it's too strong.

(I'm like fucking Goldilocks over here.)

h) CONSTANTLY worrying about my milk supply.
i) Being afraid of sounding like an Earth Mother when I tell people I'm making my own baby food and that I prefer to buy Organic produce.

(Don't worry - my mother gives him fried chicken and my dad gives him chocolate and my sister in law gives him ice cream... so he's good)

k) Swine flu.
l) Moving laterally through my career(s).
m) The term "stimulus package" being overused by Advertisers and "economical climate" being overused by the media.
n) Over modulation.
o) Not watching The Hills or American Idol, yet still knowing who Speidi and Lil Rounds are.
p) Kate Gosselin.
q) Feeling like I'm not as smart as I used to be.
r) Husbands apparent refusal to properly pronounce "spondylolisthesis".
s) Being terrified of Husbands back surgery.
t) Worrying about the number of times Wee One has bonked his head. Hard.
u) Huey Lewis, Rod Stewart and Eddie Money (or, as I like to affectionately refer to them: Huey, Stewie and Money)
v) People who criticize my parenting when they weren't involved with their own children OR have admittedly made some errors in the way THEIR children turned out (or should admit anyway)
w) Getting halfway through my Peeves list and discovering that I have to go to 'Z' because the OCD voices in my head told me they would taunt me all day if I didn't.
x) Justin Ryan from Fox 2 Detroit.
y) Falling asleep sitting up. For hours.
z) Finally posting on my blog and it turns out to be a bitch session, even though I'm actually in a relatively good mood.

So, I've got about an hour left here at Wimmie and then I'm going to go home, feed the Wee One and then we'll take a family trip to my sisters soccer game. Maybe later we'll hit my mom's and see if we can get my brother to cut my grass. Oh yeah, he moved to Flint with the mother of his children last week, but he's back now. I guess it didn't work out.

Where's The Monkey?!?! (Or - How I Spent My Friday Night)

As if I don't feel lame enough that all day Friday I was looking forward to purchasing some lamps. It had been a week long journey from Ikea to Target to Lowe's to Meijer trying to find some fucking lamps I liked enough to display in my living room. So, there it was, Friday night, I was showered, I was dressed in clean clothes and it only took until 8:30 at night to get to that point. I wondered to myself if we should be taking the baby out that close to his bedtime. I replied to myself that it was fine. So, we made our way to Wal-Mart. On the way, Husband and I were reminiscing about the days when being showered and dressed and in the car at 8:30 on a Friday night led to more than just lamps. Anyway... we went to Wal-Mart, we found no lamps. We went to the Subway in Wal-Mart for a Fountain Coke (which took a half hour because the Coke Syrup needed to be replaced... but I'm that cool these days that it was important enough to me to wait because, seriously, what else did I have going on??) We made our way to Meijer and, no lamps. At this point, it's 10:30... we're going to hang up our search for the night... but WAIT... Husband asks "Where's the Monkey?" Ah fuck. Our first lost toy. Retrace the steps through Meijer. Nothing. This monkey is more important to me than it is to Nicolas, so we'd better find it. I call Wal-Mart and, because they have STUPENDOUS Customer Service, there's no answer in ANY department. I check out at Meijer and Husband goes to Service Desk with the baby asking if anyone turned in a monkey. As I walk up to the Service Desk, Husband has three women's attention, two of them walk away when I approach... yeah, a Daddy with a baby looking for a stuffed monkey is a turn on, I know... nobody turned one in, but they'll be happy to take his number and call if they find it. So, it's now 10:50pm and we go BACK to Wal-Mart to see if it's there. Husband goes in alone and I try to park. The closest spot had a person standing in it to save it for a car that was making it's way around the aisle. As I pass it, the lazy bitch says "Nuh-uh, you can't park here" I would have run her over, but didn't have time to go to jail, I HAD A MONKEY TO FIND! Husband comes out of Wal-Mart with the Monkey. Apparently, while I was obsessed with my Fountain Coke, he had set the Monkey on the trash can at Subway. Thank God it was still there. Whew! Crisis averted. Then we got home and we were locked out of the house. Husband had to crawl in the kitchen window. When all was said and done, it was about 11:30.

SO, what did we learn?
1) The Monkey stays in the car from now on.
2) When one sets a toy down, one should make sure it's set on something we're taking with us.
3) When one returns a house key to Husbands key chain, one should make sure she hasn't put it on hers instead. Oops.
4) Our Friday nights have forever changed.

Why We'd Starve If It Weren't For Drive Thru's

For Christmas, Husband and I got a SWEET Kitchen-Aid mixer. You know, the kind all of the Food Network personalities have and the kind that makes you jealous when you see it sitting on top of my refrigerator. Anyway, you can't just make any old thing with this mixer... NO, it has to be special. No instant puddings or sub-par cakes here, no sir. So, it has taken us this long (count it - Two Months) to make something with this mixer and it goes something like this:

THURSDAY 10:00AM
Husband: I think I'm going to make some bread today.
Me: What kind?
Husband: Italian. Maybe put some pepperoni in it.
Me: Well, we have flour, yeast and sugar. You'll have to buy the pepperoni. And some cheese.
Husband: Why cheese?
Me: Don't you want cheese?
Husband: No.
Me: Then you're eating alone.

THURSDAY 11:00AM
Husband: Okay, I can't find a recipe for Italian bread. So, I'll make French bread. What is cornmeal and why do I need it?
Me: Um, I think they only use cornmeal to keep dough from sticking. Omit it.
Husband: Do we have a rolling pin?
Me: No. Use a beer bottle. Wait - why are you rolling anything out? Don't you just punch it?
Husband: I don't know. Look online for me.
Me: I'm working. But here, here's a recipe for Italian bread. Wait, we don't have a breadmaker. Just use the French Bread recipe and omit the cornmeal and use a beer bottle for the rolling pin.
Husband: Can we buy a rolling pin this weekend?
Me: I'll add it to the list.

THURSDAY 12:00PM
Husband: Okay, I have to go to the grocery store. I need pepperoni. What else do you need?
Me: Bread and Milk.
Husband: I'm making bread.
Me: Humor me. Also - pick up some cheese. And here's a coupon for the pepperoni.

THURSDAY 12:30PM
Husband calls: Hey, they have Pepsi on sale, buy one get one free.
Me: What's the limit?
Husband: I'll call you back.
5 MINUTES LATER
Husband: Limit three offers.
Me: Okay, get six.
Husband: What kind? Three of yours and three of mine?
Me: No, two of yours, two of mine, one Regular Pepsi and one Mountain Dew to keep for other people.
Husband: I prefer coke.
Me: I prefer free.

THURSDAY 1:30PM
Husband arrives back from grocery store.
Me: Did you use your pepperoni coupon?
Husband: No, I forgot.
Me: Did you get cheese.
Husband: SHIT! Do you want me to go back?
Me: No... didn't you have a list?
Husband: Yes.
Me: Weren't there, like, four items on it?
Husband: Yes, but I was so excited about the BOGO soda pop, I forgot about the cheese.

THURSDAY 2:00PM
Husband is waiting for dough to rise
Kitchen smells like a brewery

THURSDAY 4:00PM
Me: I really need you to run to the bank.
Husband: Okay - Want to try my bread?
Me: Okay. Wow, tastes way better than it looks.
Husband: I know, right?
Husband: I have two pepperoni rolls in the oven. Check them and tell me what you think.
Me: They look pretty good. Probably should cut a slit in them so they don't burst.
Husband: Could ya? And could you brush an egg wash on them too?
Me: Sure... anything else?

THURSDAY 4:30PM
Me: I really need you to run to the bank before it closes.
Husband: Try my pepperoni roll.
Me: Mmmm, tasty. Especially since you found some cheese to add to it.
Husband: Yeah, you were right.

THURSDAY 5:15PM
Husband returns from bank
Me: I ate some more pepperoni roll. It really is very good.
Husband: So, is this dinner?
Me: I guess.

THURSDAY 10:00PM
Husband: I'm hungry.
Me: We're out of pepperoni roll.
Husband: Want Taco Bell?
Me: Only if you go get it.
Husband: I made breakfast, lunch and dinner today! Why do I have to go get it?
Me: Just because it TOOK you through three mealtimes to make a loaf of bread does NOT mean you MADE three meals. By the way - how much flour did you use?
Husband: Most of the bag. We'll need a new bag in a few days when I make more bread.
Me: You know the irony? The bag of flour is the same price as a loaf of bread.

Under Achieving

I know a lot of women who've had babies recently (as in, less than a year ago), a lot of them first time moms, like me. So, what are they doing that I'm not? Why can't I keep my shit together? If it's not trying to stay on top of bills, it's grocery shopping, it's house cleaning, it's car maintenance, it's taking a pay cut, it's Husband being on unpaid medical leave, it's working multiple jobs... you know what it's not? It's not updating my Blog, Twitter, MySpace or Facebook accounts. It's not shaving my legs or actually getting to dry my hair all the way BEFORE I throw it back. It's not keeping up with emptying my camera regularly and forwarding the latest and greatest pics. It's not writing to my son as I want to. It's not going on Playdates. It's not having that Date Night with Husband. It's not going back to school now that I have FINALLY figured out what I want to be when I grow up (a Lactation Consultant in case you were wondering).

But you know what else it IS? It's being a rocking chair, it's being the best singer on the planet, it's being a photographer, it's being a comedian, it's being goofy, it's being a refrigerator, it's being a teacher, it's knowing which songs instantly stop the crying (ABC's and Itsy-Bitsy), it's being the keeper of info for every detail everyday about the consistency and frequency of the poo's in my house, it's making sure that ALL of the grandparents have the opportunity to form a relationship. It's being full of mixed emotions. I know who I am, I choose to be what I am, I enjoy it and resent it all at the same time. Compromising what I want to do with what needs to be done 20 hours a day is exhausting and unfulfilling... but there is nothing, NOTHING that can wipe those feelings away like looking at this face:



and knowing, without a doubt, without even the briefest of hesitations, that this little person brings me more fulfillment and more satisfaction in one little smile, than any amount of time to myself could EVER provide. I look at this face and I can't understand why I ever wanted to leave the house. I see him and I realize that EVERY DAY of his life, I have smiled and I have laughed and I can't guarantee that that has happened at any other time in my life. I see his face light up when I walk into a room and I realize that I am just as important to him as he is to me. That he is my breath, my blood, my life, my heart and my soul and that hairy legs and damp hair might just be my price to pay for being blessed enough to experience such love and warmth and joy every single day.

And I believe people when they say it gets easier, I do. But I still wonder how these other first-time-mommy-bitches are managing to update their Internetz shit. Pfft. Overachievers...