Summer Update!

Wow. I suck. I’m not really sure where the time has gone, but I really did mean to post an update about Nub’s Asperger’s and various other things. None of which I remember. So you’ll just have to take my word on it that they were cool. And fun. The best laid plans and all that, I suppose. Gah. Anyhoo, on to the updates…

We officially received a diagnosis of Asperger’s Syndrome the first part of May. And while it didn’t really come as a big shock to us, it was still difficult to see the words in black and white for the first time. It was also suggested that we switch Nub to a Gluten Free diet in order to help with his lack of focus. I met with the pediatrician and he agreed. I’m sorry, but I can’t put my eight year old son on psychotropic drugs. He’s EIGHT. So not an option. Thankfully, his pediatrician and his team at school agree with us. So that is one less thing to worry about. I’ve been reading(we all have actually, grandparents included!) and doing tons of research on Asperger’s and gluten free diets. I feel pretty comfortable with both, as of right now anyway. Without sounding like I’m tooting my own horn, I am a pretty good cook and I enjoy it immensely. So I’m looking forward to new recipes and the challenge of creating yummy new dishes for us to try. As for Nub? He seems pretty matter of fact about having Autism. Which is good. It doesn’t change anything about who he is as a person. He is still my same sweet, funny boy. He just sees things a bit differently than we do. And that’s fine too. We signed him up for baseball(and Dub played soccer) at our local rec center. At first we were a little worried about how he would do. He LOVED it! And he was pretty good at it too. His coaches were amazing and so patient and kind. They won only two games, but that didn’t stop him from having a blast at each game. He was so excited to receive the final game ball for Most Improved Player. You could have seen the smile on his face from the moon! I cried(and I may have teared up a wee bit whilst typing this). All in all it was quite a successful season. And we look forward to doing it all over again in the Fall.

Moving on to other news…I am officially the proud mama of a third grader AND a first grader. ZOIKS! I don’t even want to think about the fact that in just two short years I will be completely chirren free during the day. Lalalalalalalalala, I am not thinking about you Worst Day Ever. Seriously. Shut up. Dub is VERY pleased with himself because he is not a baby anymore. He is in first grade. Serious bidness, y’all. And Bub is just happy to have his “Bubbies” to play with every day. We have lots of fun stuff planned for the Summer, including a trip to the BEACH. Which is desperately needed right about now. I can’t remember the last time we actually went on vacation. Sad. But totally true. Although I also can’t remember what I did last week. Gah.

So there you have it. An actual post. From me. I know, right?! And now if you’ll excuse me, I have some Curious George to watch…

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The One With the Vacay…mmmkay?

At approximately five-o-clock Friday morning my husband will be leaving me to go on his Man Trip. To do manly things. Like fishing. And who knows what else. Mainly I suspect it will involve a lot of sleeping through the night. That bastard. What? Was that out loud? Sorry. Mostly…

Where was I? Oh yes. I will have all three children by myself. I am a teeny bit with the nervous. I can admit that. For some crazy reason, or as I now believe, a moment of lack of sleep induced madness, I told the boys I would take them to Fernbank. Madness. Sheer madness. I may or may not have told them they could invite their cousin. ‘Cause really, at that point what’s one more child? But that really could have been a conversation I was having with myself inside my head. I dunno. Guess we will have to wait and see! They love Fernbank and are so excited about going. I love that it’s air-conditioned. What? I live in the South. It’s already hotter than the hammered down hinges and it’s only May.(although we have had a couple of strange days where it has been rather cool.) I need to pick up a few things before we go. Namely, a baby carrier. Then I would have both hands free! See the genius there? See it? The girl is good.

The hubs had been making all the appropriate noises about how he will miss me, the kids, blah, blah, blah. But secretly I think he is excited to be able to do things by himself. That would probably include going potty by himself. The thought of that would be enough to send me into peals of rapture. And did I mention the sleeping? By himself? Not having to wake up and feed the baby? And the frickin’ sleeping? Although I really can’t complain. I am going out with my girlfriends next week AND I have a girl’s only trip planned for the Fall. That involves outlet malls and lots of SHOPPING. And a Coach store. That’s all I’m saying.

As long as he comes home with a present it’ll all be good. I do love me some tacky souvenirs.

Nuttier Than a Frickin’ Fruitcake…

Seriously. I am about three steps away from becoming a homicidal maniac. The hormones this pregnancy are raging. I have issues. My issues have issues. It’s one big, frickin’ roller coaster ride from hell. And it’s still January.

I’m sure the fact that I have become an Oompah Loompah overnight has very little to do with it. And it’s certainly not that my parents have moved in with us and my normally lovely children have turned into the demon spawns from hell. It can’t be my almost potty trained new puppy who has gone back to having a nervous bladder because my mother keeps yelling at her. Or my ever charming husband who has taken to hiding in our room playing Oblivion for hours on end. Now that I think about it I am also certain it can’t be the fact that they have taken over my entire house with their frickin’ crap, causing me to move vast quantities of my own crap into our already very crowded room. We won’t even mention all the well meaning advice…

It’s a stumper alright.

October 7,2009…

I am extremely frustrated and more than a little crazy today. And before I can tell you why, I have to explain the circumstances leading up to all the craziness. Which entails telling the story of what happened to my father. Which I have obviously put off doing for as long as I possibly could.

But today, today has changed that. So here goes…

October 7,2009 started out like any other day. I sent Aidan off to school and then went back to sleep with Quinn. We woke up and had breakfast. I needed to go to the grocery store and so did my mother  so dad volunteered to watch Quinn. We went to the store and came home. Dad said he was kinda tired and thought he might go and take a nap. Quinn and I said good-bye and walked across the lawn to our house. A nap sounded good to me too!

I don’t think we had been home fifteen minutes and all of this sudden we heard sirens. I thought they were kind of loud and looked out the window and saw them driving down our street. I didn’t really think much about it, but said a quick little prayer for whatever family they were going to help. Little did I know it would be my own.

Quinn and I were just getting ready to lay down when my phone rang. It was my mom. She was hysterical and I could barely understand a word she was saying. She calmed down long enough to tell me that my father wasn’t breathing and to come over right away. I grabbed Quinn and ran out the front door. There, parked right in front of my parent’s house was a fire truck and an ambulance. The front door was wide open and I could hear my mother crying and begging them to help my father. I decided that it would be better for Quinn and I to stay right where we were in the front yard. I didn’t think he should see his Grampy like that. When people say that “time seemed to stop” I had always thought that to be such a cliché, until that very second. I’m sure it didn’t take very long for them to stabilize him, but at that moment it felt like an eternity. They had to defibrillate him. Several times. They brought him out of the house and down the stairs. They stopped on the sidewalk so that Quinn could see that Grampy was okay and then one of the EMT’s asked Quinn if he had checked out the fire truck. He said no and we went over to take a look. They told my mother she could ride over to the ER with them and I told her I would be there as soon as I could. I had to wait for Jimmy to get home. I must have called him half a dozen times, hysterical myself. He finally arrived home and I raced to the hospital.

I made it to the hospital in record time. And to be honest I don’t really remember how. I ran to the ER and found my mom pacing the hallway. One of the EMT’s came out and told us that my father had suffered a massive heart attack and that they were doing everything they could to stabilize him. That he needed to be sent to another hospital. We asked if he could be sent to the VA and were told he wouldn’t survive the trip. It was almost like I was watching it happen from outside of my own body. We were terrified and trying so damn hard to hold it together.

I went home to get Jimmy and tell the kids that Grampy was okay, very sick, but okay for now. My mother-in-law came to be with the kids. And off we went. At some point during all this I had called my brother to tell him what happened. But I couldn’t really say much because I didn’t know anything. It was scary.

We made it to the hospital and went to the Heart Lab to find my mom. They hadn’t really told her anything yet, other than he was being taken care of. We waited for what seemed like hours. A doctor finally came and told us that he had suffered a massive heart attack and they had had to place three stints in one of his arteries to open it. He was on life support and in a medically induced coma to help his body recover. He was going up to the CCU and they didn’t expect him to make it through the night. Every minute that he survived increased his odds of recovering.

We were allowed to see him. It was one of the worst moments of my life. Hands down. He was just kind of grey. And clammy. And he looked so scary with all the wires and tubes they had in and on him. It was truly terrifying. We were told to go home and get some rest. That if anything changed they would let us know. But for now, they had done all they could.

I’m kind of going to fast forward through the next four days to what happened next. My brother flew out and they started weaning dad off life support. He came out of it okay, very groggy and super drugged out of his mind. Hallucinations, the whole bit. Good times.

Then came the phone call that changed it all. My mom called and told me to find my brother and get to the hospital immediately. Something was wrong with dad. I called my in-laws and they agreed to come and stay with Quinn. My neighbor drove me to the hospital and I got there just in time to find out that they had to perform emergency surgery on him. They had previously placed a central line in him in case they needed it. Except instead of placing it in his vein they placed it into his carotid artery. It had to come out, or he could die. But removing it could also kill him. They said it could cause blood clots or a stroke. Again, the outcome was bleak. We went to yet another waiting room and waited for our names to be called. Finally, the doctor came and told us that he had survived the surgery, but there was another problem. He needed to have emergency exploratory stomach surgery because there was air in his stomach where there shouldn’t be. Again, the outcome was bleak. Again we went to yet another waiting room to wait for our names to be called. At this point we were almost hysterical and definitely in shock. He made it through that surgery, but ended up with an ostomy. And was defibrillated two more times. We went back to ICU where we were then told that it looked like the stints they had just put in four days earlier might be failing and he might be having another heart attack. At that point I just lost it. I literally got hysterical. I was laughing and crying and not making any sense. I thought I was going to pass out. My mom explains to the doctor that I am pregnant and stressed out beyond belief. Which calms me down right away because I am trying so hard not to be stressed for the baby’s sake. The doctor tells us that he is going to try to place him back on the heart pump, but they are going to put it in his room because they don’t know if he can take being wheeled downstairs. Again, waiting rooms and more waiting. When the doctor came this time it was to tell us that we were going to have to go downstairs to the Cath Lab afterall. Again, waiting room and more frickin’ waiting.This time when the doctor came out it was to tell us that they couldn’t do the procedure, but that it looked like he was settling down and they felt they could treat the problem with medication. He was also back in a medically induced coma and back on life support.He was also right back where he started in CCU, taking it minute by minute with no prognosis. I felt like I was trapped in this never-ending nightmare.

Now I’m going to fast forward again and tell you that he came out of it. Weak and skinnier than I ever remember seeing him. He was on oxygen and couldn’t do anything by himself. But he was alive and that was the only thing that mattered. He continues to improve every day. His doctors are amazed and refer to him as “The Miracle Man”, because they never expected him to make it. Neither did his nurses. Or the EMT’s. But he did. And I thank God for that every single day.

Now for today. My parents lost their home to foreclosure two weeks ago. My father cannot work and won’t be able to for quite some time. He is considered disabled and will be receiving a pension and SSI, but none of those things are here yet. In the meantime, they have moved all their worldly possessions into our house. And please don’t get me wrong, I am grateful that we are in a position to help them out. I truly am. But if my mother brings one more thing into my already over crowded house I may have to strangle her. Seriously.

Both times we had to move in with them all our things that couldn’t fit into my old bedroom had to go in storage. And we all had to share a room. Including the dog. And we had “rules”. I have tried really hard to make this difficult situation as easy as I could for them. But today, today was just too much. I’m tired, cranky  and resembling an Oompah Loompah. I couldn’t take it anymore. But instead of losing my temper, and being ugly, I told my husband to go out in the living room and watch the kids. I needed some time on the computer to blog my frustrations. And I have to say that I feel so much better. Serenity now, and all that.

Maybe we can make it after all.

Tired Is As Tired Does…

There is so much stuff going on right now. And not just the Olympics.

I may, and or may not, have escaped death today. Well, I did obviously escape it. Duh, I am writing about my experience. But as to whether I would have actually died, well, who really knows? Here is the story…

My parent’s have long been loyal DirecTv subscribers. For like fifteen years. Loved them. Until our trees grew and blocked their signal. Not so much love after that. They call up good ol‘ Customer Service only to be told there was nothing that could be done. Short of cutting down the tree(heresy) or paying to have DirecTv come out and re-position the satellite(so not gonna happen). So they shut off DirecTv. I know. It was just about as painful as it sounds. I mention that they should switch to Dish. We had it and absolutely loved it. Nary a problem. So they decide to give it a whirl. Only it will take about two weeks to have it installed. Again with the knowing.

Fast forward two weeks to today. My father gets a wild hair and decides he needs a new tv. A flat screen. He sends Mama and I out to search for a good deal. We hit K-Mart, hhgregg(which is a whole ‘nother post) and finally, Wal-Marts. We chose to go with the Sanyo from Wal-Marts. Only ours didn’t have it. So we had to drive to the next town to pick it up. And here is where the almost dying part comes in to play.

We are driving down the interstate and it starts to sound funny. Like a helicopter is hovering right above me. Thwupthwupthwupthwup. I can’t figure out what the hell is making that noise, but nothing is wonky with my car. And we are almost there and at that point I just honestly wanted to stop the car and see what was wrong with it. We get the tv and come back out. I don’t see anything wrong with the car. So we get back in it. And the noise is worse. But we have Dub in the car with us and it is hot. I figure if I go slow and am really careful, we can make it home. And we do,thankyoujeebus. All I have to do now is wait for my husband to get home and take a look at it.

I go to work. Typical day, people are idiots, it’s hot, blah, blah. I come home and go see if he has figured out what the problem was. He had. Back when I had my tires done they, apparently,did not put my lug nuts back on correctly. Or even tightly. One of them is gone. As in no longer there. Three of them are sliced in half.That leaves me with one. One lug nut holding my tire on it’s rim.One. I am very lucky I wasn’t in a massive wreck. My husband was slightly shaken up by the thought of what almost happened.

Now? He is very,very angry. I will be calling the Tire Company first thing in the morning. I don’t want this to happen to someone else. And now,if y’all will excuse me, I am going to bed. Almost being killed really makes you quite tired.

Things That Have Gone The Way Of The Dodo…

They say that after you have a child your life will never be the same. That is absolutely one hundred percent true. And almost ninety-eight percent of that is all warm and fuzzy and gooey deliciousness.

The other two percent? Not so much. No one tells you about the other two percent. So I have decided to take it upon myself to let you know all about what you can expect to miss. At least according to me, that is. Let us begin.

* The very first thing I began to miss was the ability to sleep on my tummy. Sometime after the first trimester it begins to be rather uncomfortable. I liken it to trying to sleep on top of a personal watermelon. You know? Those mini ones? Plus, it just feels like you are crushing the baby. Not very maternal.

* The second thing I miss,to this day,would be my old bladder. Sigh. My old bladder was a champ. Undefeated in his weight. Impressive, no? The new bladder? Let’s just say that he cannot handle any of my Diddy’s funnier jokes. And yes, I know all about Kegels. I am the Kegel Queen. Wait, that sounded a little dirty. Let me rephrase that. I do a lot of Kegels. It ain’t helpin’ me not to pee my pants when I really get to laughing. That’s all I’m saying.

* Another thing that leaves pretty quickly? Your brain. No lie. Kiss it good-bye. You will find yourself forgetting the word for, let’s just use this as an example, cat. It certainly did not happen to me. Nor did it involve any sort of charades to try and make her bonehead husband understand just what in the Sam Hill she was talking about, thankyouverymuch.

* While we are being all Share-y McShare-pants, I miss my sex drive. If anyone has seen her, send her slutty ass home. Who has the time for the sex? No, really. That is a legitimate question.

*The ” Good Ol’ Days “. Being able to sleep in. Or just sleep through the night without having to get up. I’m not greedy. I would make do with either.

* A little thing I used to call privacy. You may refer to it as being able to go to the bathroom in peace. And by yourself, for that matter. Nothing says “love” like a little voice asking what you are doing while you are trying to do your bidness.

* And last, but certainly not least, my sanity. I don’t really think that needs much explanation. If you have children. If you don’t, call me. I will go in to detail.

Now, having said all that, let me say this. I love being a Mama. More than anything in the whole, wide world. But there are days I would like to run off and join the circus just for the break.

Thankfully,those days are few and far between.

The Best Part of My Day…

My day did not start off so well this morning. I ended up having to drive my husband to work at the ungodly hour of six thirty. Bah. Work was work. Except towards the end. When this beeyotch made me get a frickity-frackin’ TRAVEL SYSTEM off the top shelf in the toy area. Because she wanted to look at it. Never mind that it weighed three million pounds. Or that I had to stand on a LADDER to get it. Oh hells no. Then, and here is the kicker, SHE DECIDES NOT TO GET IT. Wait for it. Because the cup holder on the top of the stroller was dirty.

Pissed does not even begin to cover just how angry I was. Still am. Monkeys will fly out of my ass before I lift one finger to ever help her again. Truly.

But the very best part of my day? Watching my boys “dance” to Louis Armstrong. And the rest of the songs on my dad’s Ken Burns Jazz CD set. They love it. They love all music really. It gives my father a kick to be able to share his love of music with my children.

Just like he did with me and my Bubba all those years ago.