12 May 2005


Shingles. The roof on my house is in need of repair rather badly. And, it keeps getting put off in lieu of other necessities in life. One of these days, it will come caving in and we'll be sorry. I am the one who keeps convincing my husband that it can and will wait a few more months. Someday, no doubt, he will say, "I told you so..."

Shingles. The roof on my body is in need of repair rather badly as well. I have shingles! I call it "chicken pox reheated". Haha! It is painful and itchy and of course it happens to be across my chest and therefore interferes with breastfeeding. In fact, my 3 month old daughter is now officially exposed to chicken pox thanks to the shingles. High stress and low immune systems both contribute to an outbreak--I definitely qualify for both of those! (I don't qualify for the "over 60" trait, however). I am now having to nurse exclusively on the 'other' side while covering the shingles to attempt to prevent further contact with my baby girl. I have to pump the painful side to keep my milk supply going in the meantime.

If only I could give my shingles to my house, we'd both be set.

10 May 2005

good news, sad news

Well, the surgeons who saw Miss C on Friday were very pleased with her progress. We are elated to know that at this time they do not see ever having to do nerve reconstruction on our daughter. She still has a ways to go, but is definitely progressing. They did tack on a disclaimer that they'd be 'very surprised if we have to do surgery on her'...anything can happen, I suppose. But, they looked happy for us. They also mentioned that down the road she could end up needing another type of surgery should she be lacking in function (muscle modification, I believe). However, we were told that is a long way off and right now there's no way to know if it will even be necessary, so we won't worry about for now.

I suppose I feel a mild letdown that my daughter is not fully 'fixed' or 'cured' right at three months. I want her to be 100%, and to be honest, developmentally at 3 months of age a baby cannot do some of the things that they'd watch for. Figures. I think a small part of me felt that they'd say, "She's better now, go on home." Instead, we will spend years with therapy to make sure that as she grows she does not lose function and continues to grow and refine her motor skills correctly. My mind already knew all of this because I'd discussed it with her therapist, Jeff. My heart, however, wanted to hear differently.

Of course, we are thankful that things are so mild in her case. I have read of some sad stories and praise God He has shown abundant mercy on our family. I still rest in the assurance that He maintains control. I surely do not need to be the one in control!

On another note, my son experienced his first loss this weekend. Right after Miss C was born, one of my parents' dogs had to be put to sleep. Since Little B rarely sees the dogs these days (he was actually allergic to this one because of her long hair), we waited until our lives had settled a bit to break the news to him. Well, we were headed to my mom's for Mother's Day, so needless to say, it was time to tell him.

This was a long-haired Chihuahua who was quite old and in recent years was showing signs of illness. As it turns out, she had a brain tumor. (We spared the details for my son...he just knows she was sick and died at the Vet's.)

My son's heart was broken. Death is hard to grasp at any age, and at four it's somewhat evasive. We found a picture of him with her that he love to carry around, and he can occasionally be found sitting contemplatively prior to some question like, "Where is she? But, where in the ground? Where in the hole? Why?" He actually tries really hard to understand, and overall is fine. But, when his sadness hits, I ache for his little hurting heart and hold him and tell him that my doggie died, too, and I know it hurts. That it's okay to cry and miss her. I'm trying to let him grieve at his own pace. At the same time, I am so grateful that it was just a dog. I'm glad his first experience with death was not a close family member. And I pray that such an experience waits many more years.

04 May 2005

forced hiatus

Oh, how incredibly busy my life has been.

We are still struggling with various illnesses and sick visits to the doctor on top of well checkups for both kids, different specialists, and many, many chiropractic visits (to help the continuing ear problems for Little B). Tomorrow, he will be getting an eye exam as he failed the basic one at his 4 year old check-up, and Friday will be the big reevaluation for Miss C. Of course, her regular therapy each Monday still continues.

Then, of course, are the multitude of errands I've been trying to tackle...emissions tests, the tag office (tomorrow is the deadline!), getting my car repaired from it's fender bender, the pharmacy, the health food store, not to mention regular grocery runs and such--you get the idea, right?

The icing on the cake includes the many end-of-year school things (Muffins with Mom, Donuts with Dad, Field Day, Spring Program...I begin to wonder who's in school...Little B or Mommy; I swear I'm there as often as he is!).

Given all that and more, I rarely have time to sit down and breathe...somehow, I find time to nurse and change my daughter and fix my son's lunch (in my t-shirt as I rush him along in getting ready for school while remembering I am not yet dressed myself). I actually scheduled a lunch with a friend so my multifarious appointments would not always be in the way. I am scheduling AROUND that lunch, thank you very much, and please, Little B, do not be home sick from school that day! (There are only about 3 weeks left as it is...God, help me when summer break starts...)

So, today, after a crazy morning during which I did fit in a latte (on-the-go) for myself (yup, I drank it in the bathroom while getting ready for my shower), I got Miss C's pictures taken, picked up Little B right on time, came home for a brief 'lunch' for my daughter, only to head back out to the chiropractor and realize at 3:00 that I'd only eaten sunflower seeds and crackers for lunch. So, I went by Checkers so I could feed my famished stomach. The teenager handing me my food asked, "Is your car overheating? I think I smell something..." Holy Cow. I still needed to go to the tag office...

I pull up, pop the hood and get out to open it. I don't have to open it, though, to figure out what's wrong...there is oil pooling on the upper edge of the hood. Not good. I know what's wrong. I drove home, called my husband, and opened the hood all the way. Yup. That oil change we just got a week or so ago...they didn't put the cap back on. My engine and inside of the hood are covered in oil. Ick. At least the oil had not completely emptied and the engine's not cracked.

My husband every so kindly made the phone calls to the dealership who did the oil change (I HATE calls, especially of that nature). They have since towed my car, will 'take care of it' and return it by tomorrow morning in time for the 10am opthamologist appointment.

So, for a few small hours, I am being forced to take a break from my crazy days that never, ever end. I'd have preferred it happen AFTER the tag office and birthday shopping however, as those errands are mandatory by tomorrow. The morning is already full enough. Oh yeah. And Little B doesn't have school tomorrow.

I'm thinking dinner out and a chocolate dessert. I deserve it.