I'm really really never leaving her again.

Warning: I've tried to be as polite as possible in my descriptions but if you are particularly squeamish, you might want to skip this post. 

Y'all know how my last big planned absence from Lucy went - not well. And besides a quick trip to the grocery story or library, or a girls' night at Neighbor J's where I was less than 5 minutes away, I haven't really left her since. More so because I haven't felt up to leaving the house than anything else but this week, it was time.

Neighbor J and I were planning on going to a homeschooling conference. It is a little less odd that Neighbor J would want to go since she is actually homeschooling her older child but I love all things schoolish so I couldn't help but want to tag along. Craig was coming home early on Thursday to watch Lucy and we would take off, having enough time to browse the vendors before hitting a seminar. But a couple hours before I was set to leave, I noticed something very odd when I was helping Lucy with her pottying. I started to panic but then decided to call a good friend of mine who happens to be a nurse. She told me to text her a picture but when I went to take one, the "oddness" was gone. Because of my background, I have a fair amount of knowledge in the medical field so between my description and her real medical knowledge, we were pretty sure we knew what had happened. It wasn't a great thing but since it had quickly remedied itself, we thought we were in the clear. Craig came home, I gave him an update with the info I had from my friend and google and told him to keep me updated. I had called our doctor and she was supposed to be getting back to me soon but still hadn't. Then Neighbor J and I left.

Fast forward a little over an hour and I got a text. It had happened again and wasn't fixing itself. Neighbor J was a good sport and since I think we had both been maxed out by curriculum and textbooks, we called it an early night. By then, our doctor had called back and said that she could see us first thing in the morning which, at the time I talked to her (before text), seemed soon enough. This time, we got a better view and a picture and yep, just as we suspected - rectal prolapse. It is what it sounds like and it is as incredible horrifying as you would imagine. High fevers - scary. Dog bites on your child's face - really scary. Seeing your child's insides on the outside - really really scary.

After some panicking, calling and texting our friend the nurse and Craig's sister (also a nurse) we were just about to pack up and head into the ER when it finally fixed itself again. By then, Lucy was upset so even though it was already past her bedtime, we snuggled and watched a Caillou before finally putting her to bed. The whole thing wore her out and she slept really well; me - not so much. I think I got 10 minutes of sleep the whole night. Not quite the evening I had planned.

And instead of spending Friday shopping with a friend and her kiddos then finishing up the closets, we spent the day going from one doctor appointment to another. First we saw our doctor who immediately passed us on to a pediatric surgeon. I started having heart palpitations at the word "surgeon" but "nurse friend" (I think she needs a better blog name :-) said that was pretty common for a consult so don't panic, it doesn't mean she needs surgery. We had a few hours to kill in the city since it didn't make sense to drive home just to drive back so we decided to let Lucy have a little fun at the zoo. I'm so sad I didn't bring a camera with us (although who takes a camera to the doctors :-) because Lucy loved the zoo and has been talking about it since. She normally tells me she is swimming like a fish when she takes a bath, but tonight she said she was swimming like a penguin - how cute is that! It was also a nice way for mommy to calm down a bit.

The pediatric surgeon turned out to be great. The office was fun and Lucy actually played while we waited.  She didn't care for the more invasive parts of the exam but he was great with her and us.The whole thing was so much different from our last unplanned visit with medical personal. I left feeling much better about the situation and Lucy waving goodbye to the doctor and jabbering about her new puppy stickers. Of course, I was still worried about her but we know had a plan and information on how to deal with it in the future.

The plan is to monitor her and hope it improves on its own.Since she didn't have a normal presentation (if it happens in little kids, it is most often due to constipation but if anything, she had the opposite problem) the best suggestion for why it was happening seemed to be that the stomach bug she had last week upset her system and since her young muscles are still forming, they were just overtaxed. At least, that is the hope. They also want to run a test for another cause that is more serious but the likelihood of that is pretty slim. The test is non-invasive so we will do it just to be extra cautious, but I'm not really worried about it.

Of course, it didn't happen all day but we had two more episodes in the few hours between when we got home and when she went to bed. Having a idea of what was happening and what we were supposed to do about it helped, but not that much. Doing anything in that area with a toddler who doesn't really understand what is happening but is surprisingly strong is not fun and each episode is a bit traumatic for mommy and baby. Craig seems to do better about staying calm and keeping it all in perspective so I'm glad he has been around for the bad ones.

Of course, I am more determined than before never to leave my child again. Last time I tried she got mauled by a dog, this time - her bowels start to fall out. Seriously! I couldn't even make this stuff up.

Current Update: Saturday and Sunday were problem free and I was just about to let my guard down and think it was over but Monday night brought another episode. I do think the changes we have made are helping as is the fact that her system seems to be "better." Hopefully, these oh-so-unpleasant episodes will get more and more rare until it isn't an issue. Then we still have to deal with Lucy's (very legitimate) fear of going to the bathroom.  Parenting certainly isn't for sissies. 

In case you were wondering...

we are still alive here - barely. After our exciting Friday, we kept the fun  going on Saturday with a picnic and trip to the zoo with friends.

But since Sunday, we have been hit with migraines (MacKenzie), cold/flu (Craig), teething pain (Lucy) and bad-enough-to-cause-bleeding diaper rash (Lucy again). It was definitely a week when I had to remind myself many times that as Christians, our difficulties are temporary but our joys are eternal.  And temporary they are, after some ibuprofen (MacKenzie), theraflu (Craig) and snacking-on-frozen-peas-while-sitting-naked-in-mama's-lap-time (Lucy), we appear to be on the mend. Until then, here are some pictures of us enjoying the zoo.

Before the bad news

I already told you about our fun and exciting train trip last month but the beginning wasn't so bad. Lucy and I have taken the train from my house to my parent's and back again many times but I hadn't ever documented it. This past time, I decided we needed to so I could put together a fun scrapbook page. We really do have a fun time, for the first few hours at least:

We started by finding our seat.

Then spent some time enjoying the view before the sun goes down.

Once it gets dark, out came the toys camera (BRCBanter.blogspot.com does not endorse cameras as baby play things. Allow at your own risk. You might end up with smudgy pictures afterwards.)

When we get antsy, we headed on over to the dinning car for a snack and a change of scenery.

One nice thing about being a baby is that you can people watch without worrying about appearing rude.

After all the excitement of the dining car, Lucy starts to look a bit sleepy and it is off we go back to our seat for a nap. If I play my cards right, I can get her to fall asleep in a way that still allows me one free arm to flip the pages of a book. With such a great time to be had, why wouldn’t I want to take the train? Oh yeah, that’s right.

Home!

We're home! I'm not going to say there wasn't an adventure to our trip but nothing we couldn't survive. We got home a little before midnight last night and Lucy even let me sleep in to 7am. I think I must have gotten an adrenaline boost from being home because we got up and going real easy today - or maybe I just saw the state of our house last night and realized I was going to have to muster up all my energy to deal with it.

It's bad people, real bad. In fact, I think this might be the messiest/dirtiest I've ever let it be. Granted, it's not entirely my fault. Between Craig being here alone while working long hours at the new house, our unpacking and repacking in a 10 hr span to leave on a second big trip (in the hall since Lucy was sleeping in the bedroom) and half of our stuff being in boxes either here or at the new place, a mess was bound to be had. So, one the one hand, I'm trying to focus on it one part at a time and not be overwhelmed. On the other hand, despite my cleaning the toilet the day before we left, there is now something growing in it. All together now - EWW! It's so bad, we might just have to move this weekend.

Okay, okay, my new fear of our toilet is not the real reason we are moving, but we are trying to move this weekend. And I'm learning it is very had to put things away when there is no away to put them. I'm on my 4th load of laundry, but since most of our drawers are already gone, the basket is just getting fuller and fuller. It's quite precarious but I did still manage to retrieve the baby socks from the middle of the pile. I knew my mad jenga skills would pay off someday.

And Lucy has decided that after months of us trying to entice her to move in some way, she is now interested in becoming mobile. She promised me she would wait until we finished moving but since neither of us thought it would take us until January, I guess it is fair that she starts now. It's gonna be a crazy week. Wish me luck!

The only one

You know how some days motherhood feels like a musical montage of love - talking to a cooing baby, nursing her to sleep, watching her figure out things like how her hands work. Well, yesterday was NOT one of those days. It was more like a Luvs commercial.

We are currently dealing with a growth spurt, an outbreak of thrush, and I do believe some teething.* By 10 pm I was exhausted and on the brink of a breakdown. I knew I had to get up early to take Lucy to the doctor for an 8 am appointment. And on top of that, my mom has just been admitted to the hospital for low platelets and white blood cell count so I feel bad for even having a bad day when I know hers was so much worse. I really wanted a piece of chocolate - but I couldn't have any since I'm avoiding sugar to stop the thrush!

But Tina passed on a bit of wisdom she heard, always keep in mind that "This is the only one of this day you'll ever get." Whether you take that to mean, cheer up, you never have to live through this day again or that you should cherish it despite the problems because your baby is getting older, the point is still the same.

And it's true. Today was a new day. We got up and going just fine, the screening took a while but the audiologist was great and Lucy slept all the way home and through my errands to the grocery store and post office. Then we treated ourselves to our first mommy/daughter date at Panera. I've given up pretty much all white sugar and flour and am even limiting myself to only one piece of fruit a day (just temporarily) so it was nice to go out someplace I knew I could enjoy without feeling guilty. And while she is still cranky, she slept a lot this afternoon so I got a nice rest too. And she is back to only nursing every hour or two instead of constantly which makes me feel much better, although the itching and pain of the thrush has mostly subsided. And my mom is still in the hospital, but I'm glad that she feels okay, only a bit tired, and that since her treatment is over, this is the worst her "counts" should be, they should only go up (well, I guess when you are at 0, the only place to go is up!) And while I may not get to see her this weekend like we planned, I will get to see her soon. So my life is not perfect right now, but tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it. I'm just hoping tomorrow is more like today than yesterday!

*Why yes, it is too early for teething but she is very cranky, having weird poop, strong smelling urine and drooling more than normal (doesn't teething have the oddest symptoms?). And when I try to check her mouth for thrush, instead of sucking my finger like she normally would, she starts gnawing on it. I kept trying to convince myself that she couldn't possible be teething at 11 weeks but both Craig and I have felt a sharp bump on her lower gum so its getting harder to deny. 

Could be worse*...

Well, last week I did pretty well at getting out of the house. We've been struggling with a couple little issues (well, they seem little now that they are resolving, they didn't seem little at the time) so it was great to spend the afternoon at a friend's house. She has a 2-year-old and an 8-month-old so she did her best to remind me that "this too shall pass" and that Lucy was doing fine. It is always easier to believe that when it's a mom just a little in front of you telling you. That was the first time Lucy and I had driven anywhere by ourselves and she did pretty well. She didn't sleep on either trip so I spent the whole time worried that she would start crying but she didn't. If she starts crying in the car, she has a habit of working herself up so fast that before we can pull over she starts gagging and spitting up more milk than I would think could even fit in her stomach so I don't feel like I'm being overly dramatic about worrying although I'm not sure Craig would agree with me.

But since that was a success, I decided to venture into "the city" to go to a nursing mom's group at Kangaroo Kids. She started fussing but I put on her favorite CD (Tom Chapin) and started singing along to Gertie's Bird Seed Diner and she stopped and quickly fell asleep.

I had a great time there and was encouraged to hear all the other moms say that their babies all only took cat naps until about 3-4 months so not to worry about that. And we talked about everything from nursing issues and what to do about vaccines to pacifiers and why, based on the size of their onesies, Gerber thinks 9-month-old babies are still only 12lbs.

I was expecting to only stay about an hour but over two hours later most of us were still there chatting away. That is about when we all started to smell something. The lactation consultant running the group starting looking around and went to check out the back room before she called out "Fire, Fire, everyone out of the building!" I don't think I've ever moved so fast in my life. There were about 20 moms with about 20 babies (funny how it works out that way) plus a couple toddlers and we all managed to get out pretty quickly. No one was ever in real danger, but boy were our hearts beating fast. They got it out pretty quickly and in a few more minutes the fire trucks starting arriving. Apparently it wasn't a very busy day for the local fire departments because I do believe that three different towns sent men. I had been in the middle of feeding Lucy and I knew if I finished she would fall asleep so you can add "standing in the middle of a parking lot surrounded by firetrucks" to the list of places I have now fed Lucy. After a few minutes, things calmed down and we all started heading home. I was pretty lucky, my car was one of the few not blocked in by the trucks so we didn't have to wait like most of the other moms. I'd like to think that I shouldn't worry about taking any more trips because nothing worse could happen, but that seems to be tempting fate so I won't.

But was that the worst thing that happened that day at the group? Not really. The worst thing was that I saw "Sophie" and am now smitten. But do I want to spend $18 on a teether, even if it is "the World's Most Famous Teething Toy?" Last Christmas, when parents were running around trying to find an electronic hamster, I swore I would never do that. But this is even worse because it's not like Lucy even knows what that she is missing out on. But I want her to have one. Is it because I think she would like it (with its chewable nubby feet made out of natural rubber, easy to grasp neck and stimulating contrasting spots) or it is just a status thing? I don't know, but Babies R'Us is out of stock so I can think about it. I am willing to admit that I'm on the email list for when it is restocked but I have a gift card and if I didn't have the gift card I wouldn't be buying it. At least that is my story and I'm sticking to it!

*Do any of you remember that book?

Better late than never

Since this was the first weekend in a month that it was going to be just the three of us here at home, I had hoped it would be quiet and relaxing. Instead, I spent Saturday sleeping/shaking next to a bucket and Craig spent it on “mommy duty” except for every 2 hours or so when he would bring Lucy into me and I would force myself into an awake non-vomitous state long enough to feed her. It was fun. I hope to do it again – never.

I’m not sure if it was actually a stomach bug or that the stress and fatigue was a bit much combined with the fact that I hadn’t been eating enough and then let myself get so dehydrated that my head was spinning and hurt so bad that I made myself sick. Probably the latter but we will be sticking with the first story since that one isn’t my fault. No need to add guilt in. But still, Craig ran and got me lots of easy-to-grab snacks and I’ve been keeping my water bottle close ever since.

Craig was great though. Even though I typically have to fight the urge to offer constructive criticism that he doesn’t really need, I never once worried about Lucy yesterday. And luckily I had even showed him Friday night when we went to take a walk how to use the ring sling. It is the second best way to get her to take a nap which is especially useful to Craig since he lacks the equipment for the top way. So all in all, he managed her quite well. He even made dinner which is better than I do sometimes.

So after a long, grueling Saturday we took it easy on Sunday. I did however, lay on the couch for a while organizing our pictures. I put copies of all my favorites into files according to the scrapbook pages I want to make so months from now when I actually have some time to scrapbook, I won’t feel quite so overwhelmed. And it was so much fun to look back over the last 6 weeks. Lucy has already grown so much. But I now feel remiss in posting my pictures. There are so many cute ones you all have just got to see. So the next week or two will probably be me playing catch-up with that. Especially since it is easy. But don’t worry. If babies aren’t your thing and you haven’t abandoned this blog already, Craig will have a few posts up with words I think.

A rant

Okay people, you get to listen to me rant about the inappropriate things people have said to me recently. I know that none of you would even consider acting like this but I can't go off on them so I have to vent here.

I've mentioned a time or two that I keep getting comments on how small I look. I don't think even Craig realized the extent of this until last weekend when we went to the local home and garden show and three vendors in a row made comments.

I'm not really mad at the people themselves. For some reason, pregnant women must send out some sort of shock wave that temporarily kills the internal censors of those around them. That must be it, there really is no other explanation. So I don't really get offended on a personal level.

I am fully aware of the problems this country has with obesity. But there are two categories that get a free pass when it comes to weight gain - babies* and pregnant women. Pregnant women are supposed to gain weight, they are supposed to be "large" - they are growing another person inside of them for goodness sake! If a woman knows she is eating good food and not empty calories, she should not feel bad about gaining 30, 35 or even 40lbs.

So it is quite frustrating that I am told so often that I look "so good." Now I have no problem with people telling me I look good except that when they keep talking it because quite clear that what they mean by that is that I look "so small." We have finally gotten to the point where doctors (well, all except some really old school ones) are allowing women to gain the amount of weight they need to instead of trying to limit them to 15-20lbs, but if the comments I get are any indication, for some reasons society still equates good/healthy with tiny and it drives me crazy.

First off, you don't know how that woman feels about her weight. At this point, despite what people think, my weight gain is perfectly on track so I can let those types of comments roll of my back fairly well but early on in my pregnancy when I was trying (and failing) to gain weight, they were pretty discouraging. And I have a friend that is quite far along but still suffering from really bad h.g. She has lost almost 20lbs so far. Knowing her like I do, she is doing the best she can to eat well and I am fully confident that in a few months she will give birth to a beautiful and healthy baby girl but the very last thing someone should say to her is that she looks small.

Also, it can be hard to allow yourself to gain so much weight during pregnancy, especially for women who have struggled with their weight in the past. Right about 7-8 months, one starts to think about what happens after the baby and it is tempting to want to stop gaining weight since you know in 6-8 weeks you will have to start shedding it again. But the baby's brain goes through a big growth spurt at that time so the very last thing she needs to do is limit her weight gain. So don't sabotage her by telling her how great her being small is!

I'm not suggesting that you go around telling pregnant women that they look nice and big. But most people converse on a weekly basis with dozens of people without ever commenting on their weight, why can't it be the same when you talk to someone who is pregnant? If you just have to comment on the fact that they are pregnant, you can always say something like "Congratulations!" or "How exciting!"

*You'd think society would give babies a break but no, not really. Statistically, by full term, most babies weight between 7.5 and 9.5 lbs but it seems like any baby over 8lbs is labeled "a big baby." And from hearing the moms at La Leche League talk, they often have to fend off bad advice from family members, friends, and even doctors over whether their baby is too big or too small. I'm glad I've gone to enough meetings to know that if your baby is exclusively breastfed and you aren't having real supply issues or medical issues, your baby is probably just the right size.

Ramblings of a hormonal woman.

The last week and a half have been a bit weird. After all the traveling then preparing to move then actually moving, I was very ready to settled down into a routine when Craig went back to work. I even starting organizing my home journal and included a schedule. Craig and I got to laughing when I read it aloud because it sorta resembled a kindergarten schedule with it's inclusion of things like snack and nap but really, if I want to get 100g of protein in, I need to schedule snacks. But it also included a cleaning schedule and my Bradley exercise reminders and an intense new Bible reading plan so it really would have me being productive. I had it all ready to go, when he started his job I was ready to going on top of things - but God had other plans.

Craig's schedule has been kinda crazy due to weather issues, he's been working weekends and afternoon/night shifts that keep getting moved around. It should be over soon but for now it's definitely keeping us on our toes.

I knew it wasn't always going to be an easy transition from working to staying at home, especially since I am used to lots of verbal (and financial) encouragement and praise but sometimes I feel really guilty when Craig finally comes home, after midnight, and ask me what I've been up to and all I can think of it "well, uhm, I vacuumed." I know I did other stuff, I just can't remember it at 1am and then I feel bad. I know right now that my flexibility is needed right now, especially because Craig isn't able to be, but somehow it seems wrong. I guess when I thought about staying home and being a helper to Craig, I thought I would be helping him my way. If the only free time he has is 9-11am and he wants me to lay around in my pajamas with him and catch up on Psych, then that is what I should do, even if it makes me feel lazy and my schedule says I should be cleaning or organizing something. But somehow telling my husband that he needs to leave me alone so I can be a useful and helpful wife doesn't seem to make a whole lot of sense. I guess I just feel pressured to be proving I'm really working although I'm not sure who I trying to prove this too.

I should have learned by now not to push myself to much. That first Monday I was uber-productive. And then Tuesday was spent dealing with a reoccurance of morning sickness. The worst thing (besides the fact that vomiting has been a routine part of my life for over 5 months now! Not that I'm bitter about that or anything :-) is that my bad morning sickness days are also my about-to-start-sobbing-at-any-moment-with-no-reasonable-explanation-days. A fact I find unfortunate but not very coincidental.

I'm at this point in the post and can't seem to remember exactly what my point was. I don't have a nice wrap up that states the great take home lesson, other than it's been a bad morning sickness day and Craig won't be home till really late and I wouldn't want to vent to him anyway since then I would feel guilty for whining. But now I have the whining out of my system and I feel better so I think I'll go vacuum.

Quick Question for y'all

Does anyone know the best way to clean mini-blinds? That is one of my least favorite move-out tasks. I spend tons of time on such a little thing and they never even look clean afterward.

So what's the secret? Vacuum with attachment (Thanks to Craig's parent, we know have one of those!), dry rag, soapy rag, some secret hint revealed in a women's magazine that I somehow missed but everyone knows but me?

HELP!

Apparently the third time is NOT a charm, or the Christmas Curse Strikes again

For the third year in a row, I got sick for Christmas. Our first Christmas together, spent at home, I got a horrible cold. Our second Christmas, spent with my family, I got the stomach flu (as did 50% of the household, but I had it the worst). And I didn't write much about it but I will let you know that stomach flu and 2-day car trips across the country do not mix well.

I was so optimistic that this year I would beat the curse. Or perhaps just have a bit of morning sickness that would technically count but not be so bad since I'm used to it. But no, the fates were against me. I have now been sick at all our house, my family's house and his family's house. Apparently I am an equal opportunity sicko.

Saturday we start off our on two day drive to Craig's family's farm in North Dakota, with a stop over at my parents midway up the country. By Saturday night, he was coughing and sneezing. I really did try to stay as far away from him and his germs as possible, but that is quite hard to do in a car. So I wasn't surprised when my throat started hurting Sunday night. But he only spent one day feeling yucky and recovered quickly so I thought I might escape with the same fate. I should have known better. By Tuesday, it was bad. I spent Wednesday, Thursday and Friday mostly in bed. I probably would have made Craig take me in to a clinic yesterday if it wasn't Christmas day in a small North Dakota town, with no clinic for miles, during a blizzard. It was probably all for the best as today, I'm feeling slightly better.

But at least the Christmas curse didn't really ruin Christmas. Craig's sister, Steph, had to fly home on the 23rd so we celebrated early with his immediate family and we won't be celebrating with my family until later next week when my brother, his fiancee, Craig and I all arrive there. And yes, we didn't make it to the Christmas Eve service or either of the two big family dinners planned but that was due to the big blizzard that hit.

I kept hearing about this big blizzard and honestly, when people in North Dakota get worried about snow, you know it's gonna be bad. Then it stopped snowing and it didn't look too bad so I wasn't sure. But that was before the wind. I didn't realize that the big blizzard problem isn't the snow, it's the wind. There isn't much to stop it so it just blows the snow all over the place. It reminds me of scenes from a dust bowl documentary we watched a few weeks ago, only prettier. The piles are huge.

I'm currently sitting in the living room looking out over more snow that I think I have ever seen in my entire life. Craig got up this morning and went out to "shovel." There I was feeling sorry for him, up to his knees shoveling snow trying to clear the garage, thinking that it would certainly take him hours when I look out the window and see that most of the work is being done by a large (insert name of big farm equipment thing here). I guess shoveling means something different up here than it does in Texas. I wanted to take a picture of it but I didn't feel like subjecting myself to the cold air.

We are supposed to leave tomorrow but as of now the highways are still all closed. Craig is optimistic but I'm not counting my Christmas eggs before they hatch. After all, the Christmas curse still hasn't ruined my Christmas yet. It might try a new tactic.

Apologies

I'd like to go on record as having official apologized...

- To all those people who I have failed to return calls/emails too. Sorry officer guy who wanted me to interview that singer lady and emailed me three times. Sorry friend who wrote a great note updating me on her status as a missionary in a foreign country, I read it, I promise.

- For my feelings of hatred aimed at those shall-go-unnamed bloggers who keep insisting on reminding us that Christmas is only X weeks away and informing me of all these resources for christmas letter, decorations, advent, etc. Yes, I can count. I know. I have nothing done, no plans to do anything and no energy to do it if I wanted to. So stop bringing it up! The stress has almost forced me to decided that everyone we know is getting a dozen baby chicks sent in their name to help a family in need in another country. Because it's warm and fuzzy (baby chicks - can you get any warmer or fuzzier?) and because it requires almost no effort on my end since Craig can do it all.

- The poor cat who recently got medicine applied to her back then followed me around for a day meowing and wondering why I wouldn't pet her and kept pushing her off the couch when she tried to curl up next to me. I don't hate you, I just didn't want to rub my hands on your toxin-laden fur.

- Eggs. I used to like you. I even sung about how incredible and edible you were. Now I get sick if I even see you advertised on a grocery store marquee. I'm not sure if I even want to apologize to you right now seeing as you are obviously a food concocted by the devil but I feel certain that I won't always feel that way so I should at least try and stay on your good side. Ditto for milk.

- Anyone with a food blog that I used to frequent. Or really any blog that even occasionally mentions food. You didn't do anything to offend me I promise and I will return and bring lots of comments with me. But I just can't handle you right now. Which makes me sad because I have a lot of food blogs I like to read.

- All those people who have had to listen to me talk about my vomit way more than even I want to hear. I don't really mean to bring it up all the time but it just seems to happen. I think I'll just start lying when people ask me how I'm doing.

Bad Day Smoothie

Yesterday was a very bad day. A bad day as in my first experiment didn't work, I had a really loooong meeting that pushed my experiment back and then right before I went home to eat dinner all by myself because Craig was gone on a business trip, I realized that the 3 week long experiment I had been working overtime/weekends on was totally worthless because of a ridiculously stupid error on my part.

So by 5:30, I was desperately craving a treat (and a punching bad to maim) but I managed to make it home for some real food. But after dinner, I knew I needed something sweet and unfortunately I had to go back to work at 7:30 for another hour to finish an experiment and I knew if I didn't nip it in the bud, I would be stopping for a milk shake as McDonald's is right on the way and I do not have that much self control. But I also knew I didn't really want a McDonald's milk shake because 1) almost nothing that comes from McDonald's can be considered real food and 2) I've learned that I don't really like fast food anymore. The last time I had any was about a month ago when I had to go straight from work to a bible study so I swung by Wendy's and got what I always used to get there - a junior bacon deluxe cheeseburger, a Caesar side salad and a small frosty. It was awful. I mean, it tasted the same as I remember it tasting except I didn't like it.

So I didn't want to waste my slush money on something that wasn't going to satisfy me and wasn't good for me anyway with it's corn syrup, corn syrup solids, artificial flavorings and red dye#40. So what's a girl to do? Well, she'll make herself a...

chocolate peanut butter smoothie:

1 cup of milk
1/4 c peanut butter
1 T cocoa
1-2T Honey
Frozen bananas, in chunks

Combine first 4 ingredients in blender until smooth. Add chunks of frozen bananas until consistency is thick enough for you. Normally this is enough for the two of us to share...but he wasn't around last night and I just couldn't throw out the extra now could I? :-)

Hat Tip to Keeper of the Home

Fall

Craig and I have had several wishful "where do we want to live when we finally move somewhere permanent?" conversations lately. I said Washington state was nice, he said Maine might be...we will probably meet somewhere in the middle. But I realized that where ever we go and whenever we get there, I really hope it has a fall. I love fall with it's back to school sales (Fresh pencils for 1c sales anyone? Why, yes please!) and the fall colors and crunchy leaves and warm sweaters and really nothing spoils all that joy like my weather bug alarming because the heat index is over 100. The knowledge that I won't need to wear a jean jacket for months is depressing. So is living next to a high school where the first day of school means waking up every morning to the sounds of the marching band before beginning the drive to at a snails pace so as to avoid teenagers texting as they cross the road. Maybe I like a conceptual fall more than an actual fall? No, I think I like fall, I just don't like hoards of teenagers.

What you don't want to hear on the radio:

"Don't worry, tomorrow the high is only 101 so it is cooling off a bit."

Why do I live in a world where 101 is considered "cooling off?" Who decided we should bake move back here again? And where exactly is he right now?

Craig to the rescue!

Last night I was out at hg having a lovely time chatting with the other wives, you know, "fellowshipping." But at 9:30 when we started wrapping up and I go to leave, I realize I can't find my keys. I take everything out of my purse, but still couldn't find them. Looked around their kitchen, still couldn't find them. Hmm, maybe I just left them in the car. Except the car was locked and it was dark. So I look around the kitchen more and try not to panic. One of the husbands gets me a flashlight and I go out to the car again. There they are, in the ignition of my locked car.

Now to be honest, I didn't handle it very well. I even said a bad word. (Okay, I know most of you don't think "suck" is a bad word, but it has been ingrained in my head as a bad word since I was little so to me it's bad, and I said it anyway last night).

But it had been having a rough couple of days and this was about to be the straw that broke the camel's back. The house was about 20 minutes outside of town and even if I got a ride back to my apartment, I couldn't get in to get the extra car key because the only key to the apartment was locked inside my car. That left two options: call AAA and wait for them to come unlock the car or have another one of the husbands, a police officer, attempt to break into our car. He said he could do it if he had the tools but as he didn't, he would be willing to try using a coat hanger. I choose option three: call Craig.

Now I knew he was too far away at the moment to actually do anything about it but I didn't really think either of my options sounded like it would get me home before 11pm and I was about to just sit down and cry on the floor (did I mentioned it had been a bad couple of days?) and I was hoping he would have an idea or at least prevent the crying.

No sooner than I had said "Craig, I locked the keys in the car" did he reply "Well, did you check the back window?" Of course, how could I forget the back window! Our car windows are by far the most annoying part of our vehicle (remember this?). Well, all except one is fixed now. But that one not only refuses to roll up and down when it is supposed to, but it randomly falls down. I say randomly but it isn't really. It happens - when it is snowing, when it is raining, and when I am driving alone on a dark road and can't possible stop to lift it up again. But last night, I was grateful. In less than 30 seconds, I was able to push it down, unlock the car, and retrieve my keys. Crisis averted. Sometimes having a quick thinking husband and a crappy car can be a useful combination.

PS ~ Now that I have told you the secret to breaking into our car, please don't come and steal it. You probably wouldn't want it if you had it.

The Culprit

It's a burn. Do those little lines look anything like the lines on this hairdryer? They should. I would try to explain how I burned my calf with the tip of a hair dryer but I'm still not quite sure how I did it. There was some sitting on the bed drying my hair, then some crawling across the bed to grab my cell phone and somehow between the two, it happened. What can I say, I am just that clumsy.

Any guesses...

...as to what this injury is and how I got it?

The Ordeal

Now, I've mentioned it a time or two here on the old blog, but I have a heart condition that causes me to faint more than the average person. Generally, it isn't a big deal. I can tell when I am going to faint and I just get horizontal as quickly as possible. This is normally done by laying on the floor. Yes, I look stupid but my body is only making me faint because I am not getting enough blood to my brain and once my heart and brain are level with each other, I'm good. The biggest danger of this condition is that I will hurt myself while falling if I faint without warning. So typically, it's not a big party but it's not horrible either. And I've heard that you can outgrow it so I have been pretty pleased that I hadn't fainted for a couple years now. Until yesterday, and this last time was nothing like those.

The plan was simply enough, I had to run by the hospital first thing in the morning but I was planning to be at work by 9:00. But with me, simply and hospitals don't really go together. But they only needed a couple vials of blood for a routine panel of tests, how hard could that be?

So when I get to the lab, I tell the lab lady that I tend to faint and ask if I could do this laying down. She looks around then says that she will just talk to me to distract me. Uhm...okay. At this point, I really should have known better and insisted that she find a place for me to lay down but I just wanted to get it over with and I always feel bad for making it a big thing so I relented. So she starts her "very simply procedure" and I am fine for about 45 seconds until she has to take the next vial of blood. The switched caused some tugging and that was it. Out I go. Except this chair has a weird front arm thing (like a old school booster seat would have) that prevents me from even putting between my legs let alone lay down. It wasn't down when I first started the procedure but she must have rushed to put it down once I started turning white, I don't really recall because when I fainted, I didn't totally lose consciousness but I did lose my vision. And I could kinda hear her far in the background asking if I was okay, but I couldn't respond, then my hearing would completely go away. It was quite painful, but in a weird way, I can't really describe the pain at all other than - bad. I really thought I was going to die. Except I didn't see my life flash before my eyes, my brain was too busy, it was in survival mode. All I could think was breath and try to get down and don't die. This lasted for about 5 minutes. For those of you who have never experienced a semi-conscious faint, that is about 5 minutes of that "head rush" feeling.

I kept kinda coming around ( I could tell because my hearing would return then go away again) but still couldn't totally snap out of it because I was stuck upright. Finally, on one of my few seconds of feeling good, I managed to push myself forward and lay my head on the bar. I guess that made my head level enough with my heart that I started to get better. When I finally woke up enough to fully realize what had happened, I saw that I was now in a pool of sweat. The lady handed me a wet washcloth but then I realized I had no feeling in either arm. My face felt funny too but I couldn't really tell if that was because of my hand or my face itself.

After about 5 more minutes of sitting there, listening to her say how awful I looked before and how she was so afraid I was going to fall, I convinced her I would be better of laying down and she found me a bed so I got to lay down for 20 minutes. Once I was horizontal, my extremities started regaining their feeling. After feeling my face with my now working arms, it was indeed numb. A few more minutes and that wore off too. This part is normally the worse part of fainting. The blood rushes back into your arms and feels like needles, the blood rushes back into my stomach and I feel nauseous and the blood rushes back into my head and gives me an awful headache. This time was the most painful it has ever been but I was so exhausted I didn't even care that much. I spent another 30 minutes sitting in the adults only waiting room (which I have to say, I am a big fan of) before I could convince them to let drive myself home. Normally after I faint, I feel fine again within 10-15 minutes but I needed all day yesterday to recover.

Once I got home and laid down , the whole experience kinda hit me. At first I was just upset at myself for my stupid body but then I kinda got mad at that lady. I mean, she was very nice and I'm sure the distraction technique in which she relates her experiences as a dry cleaner owner is typically very effective, but she is also a medical professional. She noticed I was sweating so she got me a wet washcloth and water (I only know she gave me a drink of water because there was an empty cup next to me when I woke up and water all down my shirt). She also obviously noticed (and commented on) the fact that I was turned whiter than she had ever seen anyone - shouldn't she have realized I was not getting adequate blood flow to my brain? I think so. She mentioned she was worried about moving me but honestly, we were in a hospital. There were doctors and nurses all over the place, couldn't you have asked for help? I realize my perception of time might be slightly skewed but I know I was sitting there semi-unconscious for quite a while because before I fainted I was the only patient in the lab area. After I woke up, there was a pregnant lady sitting next to me taking her last sip of yucky blood sugar drink. She has been there long enough to get checked in, be given her drink and finish it. And who checked her in, the lab lady. While I sat dying next to her. When I woke up, the lab lady seemed upset at how sick I had been and worried about me going home, I just wish she has been worried enough while it was happening to do something about it. Ah! Thinking of all this made me more upset and mad. So I did what any reasonable person would do. I called my mom. Then I felt better.

After that I slept on and off the rest of the day while watching random daytime television shows. I only got up two times, both to eat. I made myself a green smoothie full of spinach to help with my iron levels but apparently my body didn't get the memo as I was really craving a hamburger all afternoon. That could have also been the result of sleeping with the food network in the background but I don't normally get cravings for things other than chocolate so Craig was nice and bought me a burger. Then I slept some more. I'm feeling much better now but I have to say, those were probably the worst 5 minutes of my entire life.

Goodbyes

This is one of those subjects that only fellow blog peeps will get. It's about saying goodbye. A site I have read since my freshman year of college is about to be cut out of my life. I have enjoyed it for these past few years and was excited about the blog they added a while back; it offered a place to further delve into the subjects the articles brought up and share opinions.

I support the organization that hosts the site and will continue to do so, they do lots of good work. But that particular project/site has ceased to be beneficial and tonight I was harshly accused of deception/ignorance for the last time. I can't go and read the articles without reading the comments but I can no longer comment and be subject to rudeness nor watch that happen to others.

But I am sad because I will miss what it used to be and the lessons I used to learn there. I think it is harder because it is a Christian organization and yet their work no longer seems to encourage. In the past the harsh responses have been from other commenters and I know that not everyone on the site is a Christian so I have pushed it out of my mind but tonight it was the site's editor, a man who should be setting an example, who is supposed to be showing godly behavior to others, a man I respected. To many it may not seem like a big deal, maybe something that they could let roll of their shoulder but I can not do that. I wouldn't accept that behavior from any other sort of person in my life, especially not when the reason I read his (and the other contributors posts) is to receive insight into God and his word.

I don't think he meant to be mean but that is almost worse. Perhaps spending days reading and responding to comments by so many on such deep and controversial subjects has jaded him to the fact that there is a person behind the comments. I didn't write as an anonymous person, but rather as MacKenzie, and I deserved to be treated as a person, not just a comment to be blasted. I hold no hard feelings toward him, I simply don't find that site edifying anymore and will not spend time there. That saddens me. The subtitle of the blog says "Extremem converstations..." I guess they are too extreme for me.