Over the past two weeks I have been gradually bearing more weight on my right leg per doctors orders. By Monday or Tuesday of next week I will be full weight bearing. Woo-hoo. Until then I can walk with the use of crutches to help me keep the full weight off my right foot.
I had another ultrasound today to check the breast that had all the problems (see posts from January or February if you want the gory details). Everything checked out fine, slightly improved. This time I don't have to go back for six more months - and if I'm good I will go in on time and not put it off like I did this last appointment that I was supposed to have scheduled for last month. I was just DONE with going to the doctor. I have to go for my foot and if Gavin needs something I'll take him but unless I turn purple or something looks like it's going to fall off I refuse to go to the doctor. Sheesh. I think I've fit a lifetime of medical visits in the first quarter of this year alone.
Are you curious about my freedom? We figured a way that I can leave the house with Gavin. Safely leave the house with Gavin. Now that I can walk down the stairs using both feet I realized I can put Gavin in the Ergo carrier and walk down the stairs, across the walk, down the second set of stairs, across the sidewalk and grassy strip to the car.
Ryan took me to the doctor's office today for my ultrasound and I was able to drive home - by MYSELF!!! To celebrate my freedom I went through the Starbucks drive-through for a single Americano and called my mom. When she asked me what I was doing I said, "I'm DRIVING!!!".
The real test for my freedom came when I arrived home.
Able to get out of the car - check
Able to get crutches out of the car - check
Able to put baby in the Ergo carrier - check
Able to carry grocery bag in left hand while holding left crutch - check
Able to carry coffee in right hand - No. I didn't even try. I left it on top of the car for a second trip.
Able to walk, crutch, carry baby and grocery bag simultaneously - check.
I did manage to carry Gavin and bag but it was a slow process.
S-L-O-W
Really, really slow.
After each step I stopped, centered myself and continued with the next step. Just as I reached the first set of stairs a woman scurried up to me and offered her assistance. I gladly handed her the bag of groceries as I made my way up the stairs; slowly made my way up the stairs. Even in my super slow-mo trek I still managed to lose my right crutch in a tangle of poppies that were trying to take over the staircase. The crutch fell and I stopped, the woman gasped. She picked up the crutch, I thanked her, and we continued up the stairs.
I thanked the woman profusely for her kindness and told her I would go put that baby in the house and come back out for the groceries if she would just leave them on the stairs - my plan the whole time. The woman was so nice - as I made my way in the house I looked up to see the woman get in her car and drive off. This woman pulled over just to help me. Isn't that so sweet!?
Once inside I put Gavin on the floor to play with some toys then I brought in the groceries and made a third trip for my coffee. Carrying coffee while using crutches is not the brightest thing in the world to do. At least the coffee had plenty of time to cool off while I made my way to and from the house so very slowly.
Before my bible study this evening I went to Westwood Village to buy some everyday drinking glasses as I noticed yesterday we are down to 6 tall glasses and 4 short glasses. Ryan loaded my scooter in the car so I could get around easily while shopping. Of course, getting the scooter out of the car in a tight parking space was challenging.
People don't know what to think when they see me scooting along a sidewalk or flying down an aisle in a store. As much as I am coming to loathe the scooter it is FUN to use at Costco or at the grocery store late at night when there aren't many customers. You can fly down the aisles. I feel like I'm 13 not 31 when I am zipping up and down the aisles. It is hard to maneuver on the sidewalks though, or on any sort of incline and going across bumps in the sidewalk hurt my knees. But it is worth it to get out of the house.
The Tonight Show is on right now; I look up every now and then and listen in while he interviews Jack Black and Clay Aiken. Here is a scary thought: I thought, "Hmm, Jack Black is kind of cute."
Ah! Jack Black!
Then I saw Clay Aiken and I thought, "Hmm, Clay Aiken is kind of scary looking."
eek - Conan O'Brien is up... he is just plain old funny looking. He's super rich, can he not afford to hire someone to style his hair more attractively? He and Donald Trump can start the Bad Hair Club for Filthy Rich Men.
That's all I have. I can come and go from the house as I so desire but won't because gas is freakin' expensive! It's over $4 a gallon! I am thinking if I want to leave the house I'm just going to take the bus. It will be a good reason to go to Pike Place and do some grocery shopping or get to learn the international district a bit. I need to find some good pho (pronounced "fuh") closer than Than Brothers in West Seattle or Pho Cyclo in SODO (south downtown).
Does anyone out there have a good pho recipe? Pho wha?
Pho is a delicious Vietnamese noodle soup. You can have it with chicken or beef or tofu and you add cilantro, basil, bean sprouts, hoisen sauce, hot sauce, soy sauce, fish sauce and/or jalapenos. It is so yummy. At Than Brother's they give you enough to feed an army with their small and it's less than $5 and they give you a cream puff with your meal.
I'm so hungry for pho. I had it last weekend when Ryan's dad was out helping in the basement since there aren't any pho joints in Wenatchee. I can't say I'm surprised Wenatchee is short on Vietnamese restaurants.
It's time for me to call it a night but not before I scavenge in the kitchen for something that will satiate my craving for pho.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Friday, May 23, 2008
Goodbye, Celeste
I've been in a special relationship for about two years now that is coming to an end. This relationship is one I never thought I would have; I thought I wasn't 'that kind' of person. Growing up the thought of this kind of relationship struck me as odd and unnecessary; it wasn't until a few years ago that I could see how special a relationship of this nature could be.
The special relationship that I've succumbed to is that of hair stylist/client. It took 29 years but I finally found someone who knows me. She gets me - well, she 'gets' my hair. I suppose it didn't actually take 29 years to find a hair stylist. I was bald then had only a little hair for the first year of my life, then I just didn't care until after high school.
Who is this Hair Whisperer, you ask? Celeste Farrar is her name - at least for a little while longer at least. She is getting married, she may take her fiance's name, I don't know and moving to Montana. I am sad as are many of my girlfriends that I see every week (see previous post) because we all started going to her regularly after seeing what a fabulous job she did with all of our respective crowns of glory.
B.C. (before Celeste) I had no loyalties because no one gave me a reason to be loyal. Hair cuts were just hair cuts. If I wanted my hair styled I would pony up for a more expensive salon but no one ever got me to go back.
Side story: the first time I paid "big bucks" (I think I paid $25 which was a LOT out of my minimum wage job at Blimpie while I was attending college) was 1996. The salon was kitty corner to the Blimpie where I worked evenings and weekends and a couple of doors down from Albertson's at the new (now dilapidated) Fisher's Landing shopping center. It was with great excitement I entered the salon because I knew exactly what I wanted: the Jennifer Aniston (Rachel Green/"Friends") hair style.
That is exactly what I got. I left the salon looking like Jennifer Aniston and I did until I washed my hair the next day and one other time when I took the inordinate amount of time it took to style it the way the hair dresser did. It took me nearly two hours to style it to my liking. That's probably why I only styled it once. Who knew using a curling iron and 'product' was a learned skill?
I heard such great things about Celeste and I saw all the great work that she did with my friends that the first time I saw her I placed a great deal of faith in her talented hands and keen eyes. I gave her a general length I wanted my hair and told her to do whatever she thought would look best with my shape of face. She asked me a few questions then flew into action - but not before washing my hair and giving the best scalp and neck massage. What a great way to start a hair cut.
Now I have to start my search for a great stylist over. There is a salon just around the corner from my house that I'm going to try. I hope they are good because it would be so darn convenient to just walk over and get my hair cut. No driving across town, hoping there isn't a Mariner's game or bad traffic on I-5 or 99, hoping to find close parking, not having to walk past a Macrina Bakery to be tempted to go inside.
Farewell, Celeste, Montana is lucky to have you.
The special relationship that I've succumbed to is that of hair stylist/client. It took 29 years but I finally found someone who knows me. She gets me - well, she 'gets' my hair. I suppose it didn't actually take 29 years to find a hair stylist. I was bald then had only a little hair for the first year of my life, then I just didn't care until after high school.
Who is this Hair Whisperer, you ask? Celeste Farrar is her name - at least for a little while longer at least. She is getting married, she may take her fiance's name, I don't know and moving to Montana. I am sad as are many of my girlfriends that I see every week (see previous post) because we all started going to her regularly after seeing what a fabulous job she did with all of our respective crowns of glory.
B.C. (before Celeste) I had no loyalties because no one gave me a reason to be loyal. Hair cuts were just hair cuts. If I wanted my hair styled I would pony up for a more expensive salon but no one ever got me to go back.
Side story: the first time I paid "big bucks" (I think I paid $25 which was a LOT out of my minimum wage job at Blimpie while I was attending college) was 1996. The salon was kitty corner to the Blimpie where I worked evenings and weekends and a couple of doors down from Albertson's at the new (now dilapidated) Fisher's Landing shopping center. It was with great excitement I entered the salon because I knew exactly what I wanted: the Jennifer Aniston (Rachel Green/"Friends") hair style.
That is exactly what I got. I left the salon looking like Jennifer Aniston and I did until I washed my hair the next day and one other time when I took the inordinate amount of time it took to style it the way the hair dresser did. It took me nearly two hours to style it to my liking. That's probably why I only styled it once. Who knew using a curling iron and 'product' was a learned skill?
I heard such great things about Celeste and I saw all the great work that she did with my friends that the first time I saw her I placed a great deal of faith in her talented hands and keen eyes. I gave her a general length I wanted my hair and told her to do whatever she thought would look best with my shape of face. She asked me a few questions then flew into action - but not before washing my hair and giving the best scalp and neck massage. What a great way to start a hair cut.
Now I have to start my search for a great stylist over. There is a salon just around the corner from my house that I'm going to try. I hope they are good because it would be so darn convenient to just walk over and get my hair cut. No driving across town, hoping there isn't a Mariner's game or bad traffic on I-5 or 99, hoping to find close parking, not having to walk past a Macrina Bakery to be tempted to go inside.
Farewell, Celeste, Montana is lucky to have you.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Women and Men
It will be seven years this November that I've lived in Seattle. For as long as I've lived in Seattle I've been in the same bible study. Originally we all lived in West Seattle but over the years we've spread out, one in West Seattle, one on Beacon Hill, one in Green Lake, one in Ballard and one on the east side. Others have moved considerably farther, Missouri, Northern Ireland and Kenya. As people have moved away or moved on from the group new women come in.
We've been holding steady at 6 ladies for a couple of years now and we don't see any change on the horizon. It's so wonderful to have a mix of married and single women, some with kids, some without.
These ladies have seen me at my highest high (hours after giving birth) and at my lowest low (nothing I'm going to broadcast to the world). They were there for me when I was new to Seattle and didn't know a soul except Ryan.
Sometimes I think we should rename our group since we don't study all that much. Two ladies left the bible study because they wanted to be in a bible study that studied the bible. Those of use who are left are OK when we go weeks without studying and choose instead to socialize. Our weekly gathering is a highlight of my week. I think I would explode if I did not see these women on a regular basis to decompress as the volume of unspoken words inside me would build up to a dangerous level.
We all enjoy just sitting around and talking. And talking and talking some more. The husbands do not begrudge us our time with our girls because if we don't have the girls to talk to we turn our need to talk to the men in our lives. We know our husbands love us but we have been married long enough that we know a husband makes a bad girlfriend.
Ryan's sister and family were in town recently. Our niece, who will be 3 in September, unwinds before going to bed by talking to herself. She hashes out the events of the day and all that she learned. It is really amusing to listen to (over the monitor) but I kind of feel like I'm eavesdropping.
The way she talks about all of the events of her day kind of threw Ryan for a loop; he wondered how long she would do that for. I told him that she is a girl and the only thing that will change is that she will probably stop saying everything out loud. I don't think he believes me that the woman's brain doesn't have an off switch.
I'll never forget a conversation we had on a trip to or from Vancouver several years ago. It was in his old white Honda Civic so it has been at least 3 years. I think we were in a no-mans' land as far as the radio was concerned, that or only country music came in and I was all out of talk so I turned to Ryan and said, "Penny for your thoughts."
Ryan: "Hmph? Uh, nothin'."
Me: "Penny for your thoughts. Whatcha thinkin'?"
Ryan: "Nothin'"
Me: "C'mon. What are you thinking?"
Ryan: "Nothing."
Me: "You can't not be thinking."
Ryan: "Yep, I can."
Me. "It can't be a blank canvas up there!"
Ryan: "Yep. It can."
Me: "No! You can just be and not have a thought?"
Ryan: "What, you can't?"
Me: "No. It's like a ticker tape up there. Non stop."
We caught a brief glimpse in the brain of the opposite sex.
Here is how I view Ryan's brain: Picture a vast room lined with rows of filing cabinets. All of the filing cabinets are arranged by subject and within each subject they are arranged alphabetically. The math, physical science and music sections are packed pretty densely with filing cabinets. Every drawer of every cabinet is shut and only opens when information within is needed.
April's brain:
The room is still vast and there are filing cabinets. That is where the similarities end. Drawers on the cabinets pop open at random times and files are frequently misfiled; the cabinets are not neatly arranged by subject but are scattered about, there may be a science cabinet next to a language cabinet. Next to each cabinet is a scents cabinet. Science (Anatomy and Physiology t be specific) has a cabinet next to it that has all sorts of fun scents like formaldehyde, death and ham preservatives. The ham preservatives is a fun story I should share some time. If you aren't a vegetarian before I tell the story you may be afterwards. I was off ham lunch meat for a long time.
I'm too tired to continue. I think the whole reason I started this post was to relay one funny little story. So I'll tell my funny little story then go to bed on the tiny slice of bed that Gavin has left for me.
Last week I got my girlfriends to take me out of the house for our weekly meeting. Any chance I have to get out of the house I jump at since I'm house bound right now. We went to Cupcake Royale in West Seattle. After finding close street parking we walked/crutched to the store only to find out they were closing in 10 minutes. Lame. Right before we got there Heidi called Heather to tell her that we were not meeting at my house like originally planned but at Cupcake Royale so she called Heather again to tell her we were moving to a new locale.
Next stop: Matador. They have super yummy steak nachos. I was looking forward to some delicious Mexican food. We sit down, eat some chips and order our drinks. One margarita and two waters. The waitress needs to see every one's id since we were in a bar. No problem.
Wait, problem.
I searched my purse section by section. Then I emptied my purse section by section. No id. My friend who ordered the margarita saw my insurance card and said, "This has her birthday and this (holding up my Costco card) has her picture?" It was a nice try. But it didn't work. We got the boot.
It has been a long, long time since I was kicked out of a bar.
As much as it sucked being kicked out it was still kind of flattering. I know I don't look 21 but still...
Heidi called Heather again and we went across the street to another establishment that shall remain nameless because they didn't ask for id when drinks of an adult nature were ordered. I even tried Krissy' Belgian type beer that she was sampling - woo, was it ever sweet. Not my cup of barley. Or malts. Or hops... whatever.
By the way, I found my driver's license. It was in the coat I took with me to the hospital the day I had surgery.
We've been holding steady at 6 ladies for a couple of years now and we don't see any change on the horizon. It's so wonderful to have a mix of married and single women, some with kids, some without.
These ladies have seen me at my highest high (hours after giving birth) and at my lowest low (nothing I'm going to broadcast to the world). They were there for me when I was new to Seattle and didn't know a soul except Ryan.
Sometimes I think we should rename our group since we don't study all that much. Two ladies left the bible study because they wanted to be in a bible study that studied the bible. Those of use who are left are OK when we go weeks without studying and choose instead to socialize. Our weekly gathering is a highlight of my week. I think I would explode if I did not see these women on a regular basis to decompress as the volume of unspoken words inside me would build up to a dangerous level.
We all enjoy just sitting around and talking. And talking and talking some more. The husbands do not begrudge us our time with our girls because if we don't have the girls to talk to we turn our need to talk to the men in our lives. We know our husbands love us but we have been married long enough that we know a husband makes a bad girlfriend.
Ryan's sister and family were in town recently. Our niece, who will be 3 in September, unwinds before going to bed by talking to herself. She hashes out the events of the day and all that she learned. It is really amusing to listen to (over the monitor) but I kind of feel like I'm eavesdropping.
The way she talks about all of the events of her day kind of threw Ryan for a loop; he wondered how long she would do that for. I told him that she is a girl and the only thing that will change is that she will probably stop saying everything out loud. I don't think he believes me that the woman's brain doesn't have an off switch.
I'll never forget a conversation we had on a trip to or from Vancouver several years ago. It was in his old white Honda Civic so it has been at least 3 years. I think we were in a no-mans' land as far as the radio was concerned, that or only country music came in and I was all out of talk so I turned to Ryan and said, "Penny for your thoughts."
Ryan: "Hmph? Uh, nothin'."
Me: "Penny for your thoughts. Whatcha thinkin'?"
Ryan: "Nothin'"
Me: "C'mon. What are you thinking?"
Ryan: "Nothing."
Me: "You can't not be thinking."
Ryan: "Yep, I can."
Me. "It can't be a blank canvas up there!"
Ryan: "Yep. It can."
Me: "No! You can just be and not have a thought?"
Ryan: "What, you can't?"
Me: "No. It's like a ticker tape up there. Non stop."
We caught a brief glimpse in the brain of the opposite sex.
Here is how I view Ryan's brain: Picture a vast room lined with rows of filing cabinets. All of the filing cabinets are arranged by subject and within each subject they are arranged alphabetically. The math, physical science and music sections are packed pretty densely with filing cabinets. Every drawer of every cabinet is shut and only opens when information within is needed.
April's brain:
The room is still vast and there are filing cabinets. That is where the similarities end. Drawers on the cabinets pop open at random times and files are frequently misfiled; the cabinets are not neatly arranged by subject but are scattered about, there may be a science cabinet next to a language cabinet. Next to each cabinet is a scents cabinet. Science (Anatomy and Physiology t be specific) has a cabinet next to it that has all sorts of fun scents like formaldehyde, death and ham preservatives. The ham preservatives is a fun story I should share some time. If you aren't a vegetarian before I tell the story you may be afterwards. I was off ham lunch meat for a long time.
I'm too tired to continue. I think the whole reason I started this post was to relay one funny little story. So I'll tell my funny little story then go to bed on the tiny slice of bed that Gavin has left for me.
Last week I got my girlfriends to take me out of the house for our weekly meeting. Any chance I have to get out of the house I jump at since I'm house bound right now. We went to Cupcake Royale in West Seattle. After finding close street parking we walked/crutched to the store only to find out they were closing in 10 minutes. Lame. Right before we got there Heidi called Heather to tell her that we were not meeting at my house like originally planned but at Cupcake Royale so she called Heather again to tell her we were moving to a new locale.
Next stop: Matador. They have super yummy steak nachos. I was looking forward to some delicious Mexican food. We sit down, eat some chips and order our drinks. One margarita and two waters. The waitress needs to see every one's id since we were in a bar. No problem.
Wait, problem.
I searched my purse section by section. Then I emptied my purse section by section. No id. My friend who ordered the margarita saw my insurance card and said, "This has her birthday and this (holding up my Costco card) has her picture?" It was a nice try. But it didn't work. We got the boot.
It has been a long, long time since I was kicked out of a bar.
As much as it sucked being kicked out it was still kind of flattering. I know I don't look 21 but still...
Heidi called Heather again and we went across the street to another establishment that shall remain nameless because they didn't ask for id when drinks of an adult nature were ordered. I even tried Krissy' Belgian type beer that she was sampling - woo, was it ever sweet. Not my cup of barley. Or malts. Or hops... whatever.
By the way, I found my driver's license. It was in the coat I took with me to the hospital the day I had surgery.
Pinchable Cheeks
Yeah, I know. CUTE!!! Look at those cheeks! This picture induces the baby munchies. Baby munchies are not about a baby that has the munchies, because that is just wrong - how could you even think that? C'mon. No, baby munchies are what happen when you say, "Ah! You are too cute," then proceed to kiss the daylights out of the baby.
This afternoon I hosted my mommy group so I could attend since I'm still not walking or driving. At each meeting we give our 'highs and lows' for the week. It is not something I prepare in advance and give much thought to so when it is my turn to share I just spit out the first things that pop in my mind. After group I put Gavin down for a nap and was lying there nursing him and thinking to myself, "I didn't tell them the best news. I'll tell them next week that Gavin quit biting me while nursing. This is big news, maybe I could mention it if I have occasion to e-mail the ladies this - CHOMP
No kidding. I was thinking about how Gavin hasn't bitten me in a while when he bit hard. Yowza!
The biting is painful. He was biting me every time he ate. Nursing was become less relaxing as I would tense up a few minutes into a feeding session trying to predict when was a good time to close the bar before Gavin had a chance to do any nibbling. But as painful as the biting is he does something else that is as annoying as the biting is painful.
He snaps my bra. When he lies on his back he will lift his arm up over his head then bring it down sharply and slap his belly. He does it repeatedly and when he's nursing he grabs my bra instead of slapping his belly. He grabs the bra and pulls until it snaps. Then he repeats. And repeats. And repeats.
Can you believe he is 7 months old already? Time flies! There is another baby boy in my group who is only 10 days older than Gavin that has started crawling. That little dude flies, baby lightening! It makes me a little nervous knowing what is in store for us right around the corner.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Installed
My father-in-law visited this weekend. He and Ryan spent the whole weekend installing doors in the basement and painting trim.
We've had the doors for quite some time but since they were not pre-hung it made installation a very daunting task. Since I am of no help in the Department of Handy - for many reasons (I measure twice, forget twice, measure two more times and still cut wrong; I have Gavin to watch after; and I whine...) Karl came to the rescue.
It is amazing what a door does to a space. In place of the gaping hole there is a door in the guest bedroom, the bathroom, the office and at the middle landing of the stairs on the way to the basement. Now, one can use the bathroom. The bathroom was operational before but now those who like a little privacy can use it without fear of someone in the alley walking by and peeking in. Our guests can get dressed in their room without fear of someone barging in unannounced (I did that to my other father-in-law but he was just taking his inhaler, whew)! Ryan can work in the office and not have to hear me banging around in the kitchen.
Yea for doors! Yea for father's-in-law who drive 3 hours to do hard labor all weekend only to go home and do more hard labor (he's building a house right now)!
We've had the doors for quite some time but since they were not pre-hung it made installation a very daunting task. Since I am of no help in the Department of Handy - for many reasons (I measure twice, forget twice, measure two more times and still cut wrong; I have Gavin to watch after; and I whine...) Karl came to the rescue.
It is amazing what a door does to a space. In place of the gaping hole there is a door in the guest bedroom, the bathroom, the office and at the middle landing of the stairs on the way to the basement. Now, one can use the bathroom. The bathroom was operational before but now those who like a little privacy can use it without fear of someone in the alley walking by and peeking in. Our guests can get dressed in their room without fear of someone barging in unannounced (I did that to my other father-in-law but he was just taking his inhaler, whew)! Ryan can work in the office and not have to hear me banging around in the kitchen.
Yea for doors! Yea for father's-in-law who drive 3 hours to do hard labor all weekend only to go home and do more hard labor (he's building a house right now)!
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Forward Progress!
Gavin and I were sitting on the floor yesterday playing with blocks. Well, I was sitting and watching Gavin play with his blocks. He really only plays with one, the blue round one. If one of the blue round ones isn't available he will not refuse the orange star or purple plus or green square - they all go readily in the mouth.
Little G finally toppled over or I put him on his tummy, I don't remember which. Either way, it led to crying. Profuse crying. Did you know it is very traumatic to be placed on your tummy? Gavin wails when he has his tummy time. He lifts his head and torso off the ground with his unbelievably cute chubby arms and looks at me, all the while screaming, as if to say, "But I thought you loved me? Why are you doing this to me?" His head looks HUGE when he lifts it up while on his belly. It is, of course, SO CUTE!
So, there he is, lying on the floor and crying, big fat tears streaming down his nose and plopping on the rug. There I am, mean mom that I am, trying to entice him with toys just out of his reach. Thus far he is able to pivot - he stays in place but goes in a circle and scoot backwards a bit. Oh, and he does the crawl but he doesn't crawl. His legs move like he wants to crawl but he doesn't put his feet underneath his body so he doesn't go anywhere.
Until... yesterday.
My attention had been diverted away at something else and when I looked back I saw he had his right leg bent and under his body. He pushed and went forward!
Forward progress!
Woo-hoo!
Unfortunately along with forward progress came a face plant.
That lead to more crying. I imagine he was very confused as to why I was mixing the sympathetic, "Oh, poor baby," with the excited, "Way to go Gavin!" and "Yea!"
I had my boot off to let my poor foot breath since it was 86 degrees in the house and the boot made a handy tool with which to let Ryan know to come upstairs. I pounded the boot on the floor several times until Ryan came upstairs so I could share the good news of the almost crawl.
We put little G back on his tummy but there was no more crawling... hmmm... it appears he is waking up. Not bad since it has been 4 hours since he went down the evening.
Yep. Four hours is a good thing these days. He has been waking up every 2-3 hours at night. The only thing that puts him back to sleep is a snack ala mom.
Dang it!!! His eyes are open (we have the video monitor - I'm not psychic)... *gasp*
HE FELL BACK ASLEEP!!!
I am really confused. There must be some interference because I hear some music coming across the monitor that kind of sounds like Tool or Nine Inch Nails. As much as I like me some Tool and NIN, I don't listen to KISW (local hard core rock station) and I don't have my alarm radio set to anything but static (white noise to put the G to sleep). Yep, it's KISW - the music is over. I should go turn it off but I'm afraid of disturbing Gavin.
It's Ryan's alarm clock. Mystery solved. Gavin is awake again. Hard core rock doesn't seem to soothe the baby. Go figure.
Mystery part II: why is Ryan's alarm clock set to KISW? He hates music that sounds angry. (His words, not mine).
Mystery part II solved: I seem to recall monkeying with the radio on his alarm. I thought I put it back on his station, though.
Oops.
Little G finally toppled over or I put him on his tummy, I don't remember which. Either way, it led to crying. Profuse crying. Did you know it is very traumatic to be placed on your tummy? Gavin wails when he has his tummy time. He lifts his head and torso off the ground with his unbelievably cute chubby arms and looks at me, all the while screaming, as if to say, "But I thought you loved me? Why are you doing this to me?" His head looks HUGE when he lifts it up while on his belly. It is, of course, SO CUTE!
So, there he is, lying on the floor and crying, big fat tears streaming down his nose and plopping on the rug. There I am, mean mom that I am, trying to entice him with toys just out of his reach. Thus far he is able to pivot - he stays in place but goes in a circle and scoot backwards a bit. Oh, and he does the crawl but he doesn't crawl. His legs move like he wants to crawl but he doesn't put his feet underneath his body so he doesn't go anywhere.
Until... yesterday.
My attention had been diverted away at something else and when I looked back I saw he had his right leg bent and under his body. He pushed and went forward!
Forward progress!
Woo-hoo!
Unfortunately along with forward progress came a face plant.
That lead to more crying. I imagine he was very confused as to why I was mixing the sympathetic, "Oh, poor baby," with the excited, "Way to go Gavin!" and "Yea!"
I had my boot off to let my poor foot breath since it was 86 degrees in the house and the boot made a handy tool with which to let Ryan know to come upstairs. I pounded the boot on the floor several times until Ryan came upstairs so I could share the good news of the almost crawl.
We put little G back on his tummy but there was no more crawling... hmmm... it appears he is waking up. Not bad since it has been 4 hours since he went down the evening.
Yep. Four hours is a good thing these days. He has been waking up every 2-3 hours at night. The only thing that puts him back to sleep is a snack ala mom.
Dang it!!! His eyes are open (we have the video monitor - I'm not psychic)... *gasp*
HE FELL BACK ASLEEP!!!
I am really confused. There must be some interference because I hear some music coming across the monitor that kind of sounds like Tool or Nine Inch Nails. As much as I like me some Tool and NIN, I don't listen to KISW (local hard core rock station) and I don't have my alarm radio set to anything but static (white noise to put the G to sleep). Yep, it's KISW - the music is over. I should go turn it off but I'm afraid of disturbing Gavin.
It's Ryan's alarm clock. Mystery solved. Gavin is awake again. Hard core rock doesn't seem to soothe the baby. Go figure.
Mystery part II: why is Ryan's alarm clock set to KISW? He hates music that sounds angry. (His words, not mine).
Mystery part II solved: I seem to recall monkeying with the radio on his alarm. I thought I put it back on his station, though.
Oops.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Dude!
Gavin's nap is going to be over any minute now so I gotta make this quick.
I'm back home! Yippee! I miss the easy access and great care my MIL provided but it's so nice to be at home with Ryan and my stuff that I can't do anything with because I can't carry it around.
I left the power supply for the laptop at my MIL's house and therefore have to wait for Gavin to go to sleep before I can hobble down to the basement to get on the computer and check my e-mail. I'm getting pretty good at using the crutches.
Today I unloaded and loaded the dishwasher, washed some pots and pans, cleaned the counter tops, pulled the laundry hampers from my bedroom to the living room and sorted the clothes for Ryan and... ah, I almost forgot the most challenging task of all: lunch. I made lunch. And by 'made' I mean heated up a sandwich in the microwave that I assembled at Dream Dinners before surgery that Ryan heated in the oven last night. The challenging part was getting me, my one good leg, two crutches, plate with sandwich and a can of soda teetering on top over to the couch. It was not easy. It was not fast. It was a little painful.
When I'm ready to walk again my left leg is going to be a rock while my right leg is going to be an atrophied, gelatinous leg shaped blob. I swear my right calf has already lost all of its muscle tone.
There is so much more house work to be done but my toes in my new and improved foot started to go numb so I figured that was as good a time as any to watch the boob tube.
I almost forgot the whole reason I started this "Dude!" post!
So, here I am checking my e-mail, minding my own business - I'm at home, not a lot of other people's business I can mind, right? Above me is a small daylight basement window in the office. I see a shadow pass over the minimal light that is coming in through the small window on this super gray day in Seattle in May. What do I see when I look up? The man who was putting the last installement of topsoil in our yard after the oil tank removal/contamination/clean-up/restoration that started back in AUGUST.
Hmm, I thought to myself. What is he doing in that corner of the yard by the old window frames that we've yet to take to the dump? In the corner where the tall fence and gate meet? The corner where no one can see him from ground level as he is hidden by the house, a gate and a fence? Ah, I see. He is peeing!
Dude!
We have toilets in our house! Two. Granted, only one of the toilets comes with the great amenity known as a door but he obviously doesn't care about that. (The doors in the basement are coming at the end of the month when my father-in-law comes out to help Ryan install them - and the trim. Woo-hoo!!! We are almost done)!
I really, really, really wanted to tap on the window. Really. But I didn't. Then I just hoped he wouldn't look down when he turned around and left. At least he peed facing away from the window.
My knee scooter is going to be delivered at 3:00 today, in 40 minutes. That means I should head up stairs so I can use the marvel known as a toilet in which I can empty my bladder before my new wheels arrive.
I'm back home! Yippee! I miss the easy access and great care my MIL provided but it's so nice to be at home with Ryan and my stuff that I can't do anything with because I can't carry it around.
I left the power supply for the laptop at my MIL's house and therefore have to wait for Gavin to go to sleep before I can hobble down to the basement to get on the computer and check my e-mail. I'm getting pretty good at using the crutches.
Today I unloaded and loaded the dishwasher, washed some pots and pans, cleaned the counter tops, pulled the laundry hampers from my bedroom to the living room and sorted the clothes for Ryan and... ah, I almost forgot the most challenging task of all: lunch. I made lunch. And by 'made' I mean heated up a sandwich in the microwave that I assembled at Dream Dinners before surgery that Ryan heated in the oven last night. The challenging part was getting me, my one good leg, two crutches, plate with sandwich and a can of soda teetering on top over to the couch. It was not easy. It was not fast. It was a little painful.
When I'm ready to walk again my left leg is going to be a rock while my right leg is going to be an atrophied, gelatinous leg shaped blob. I swear my right calf has already lost all of its muscle tone.
There is so much more house work to be done but my toes in my new and improved foot started to go numb so I figured that was as good a time as any to watch the boob tube.
I almost forgot the whole reason I started this "Dude!" post!
So, here I am checking my e-mail, minding my own business - I'm at home, not a lot of other people's business I can mind, right? Above me is a small daylight basement window in the office. I see a shadow pass over the minimal light that is coming in through the small window on this super gray day in Seattle in May. What do I see when I look up? The man who was putting the last installement of topsoil in our yard after the oil tank removal/contamination/clean-up/restoration that started back in AUGUST.
Hmm, I thought to myself. What is he doing in that corner of the yard by the old window frames that we've yet to take to the dump? In the corner where the tall fence and gate meet? The corner where no one can see him from ground level as he is hidden by the house, a gate and a fence? Ah, I see. He is peeing!
Dude!
We have toilets in our house! Two. Granted, only one of the toilets comes with the great amenity known as a door but he obviously doesn't care about that. (The doors in the basement are coming at the end of the month when my father-in-law comes out to help Ryan install them - and the trim. Woo-hoo!!! We are almost done)!
I really, really, really wanted to tap on the window. Really. But I didn't. Then I just hoped he wouldn't look down when he turned around and left. At least he peed facing away from the window.
My knee scooter is going to be delivered at 3:00 today, in 40 minutes. That means I should head up stairs so I can use the marvel known as a toilet in which I can empty my bladder before my new wheels arrive.
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Blogger, Interrupted
My last post was not saved properly so half of my post was lost. Nerdy.
I'm going to do my best to recreate the rest of my news flashes. Where did I leave off? Ah, yes. The shower.
So, there I was sort of standing in the shower, listing severely to the left when I saw my feet side by side for the first time since surgery. The left one was just hanging out, all white and bulging with it's smaller bunion. Then there was the right foot, still black and blue and tinted from the iodine prep, but it was much, much smaller than the left foot. It is a completely different shape. It is so weird to have the shape of your foot change; I knew it was going to change shape but it is something else to see an appendage morph like that.
I'm guessing that all of the shoes I gave away 2 months ago because they were too small would now fit . It is just as well since they were all high heels - something I could wear on a more frequent basis if my left foot wasn't developing a bunion. Stupid feet. They ruin fashion. Not that I'm a fashionista but it is nice to wear sexy heels every now and again.
It was at Ryan's office Christmas party that I last wore heels. I felt like a decrepit old woman as each step hurt more than the previous one. As much as I like the looks of them I won't buy more heels until after I have the left bunion taken care many, many, many years from now. This whole not walking thing sucks. Really. Although wheeling around in a wheelchair is fun - but only because I know it's temporary.
If you have a weak stomach regarding bugs you may not want to read this last bit.
Did you know it is tick season in the northwest? I do. Kea, my dear doggy, got one last weekend. Ryan took her to the vet on Monday to make sure there wasn't more we needed to do for her while we were home for my doctors appointment. When we got back to my MIL's house we saw a bulge on her head - another tick. Then the neighbor lady took Kea and her dog for a walk. More ticks glommed on under her collar.
My MIL held Kea on her dog bed while I pulled the blood suckers out with tweezers. It was so gross. The smallest ones that hadn't attached yet were like the tiniest spider you could imagine but the ones that we missed and were sucking away for a couple of days were ginormous - think the size of a pencil top eraser.
Ticks are nearly impossible to kill but I was still afraid of splatter if I squeezed too hard with the tweezers on the bigger ticks so I covered the bug with a tissue and just peeked while pulling. To kill them my sister-in-law who lives in the sticks and deals with ticks on her dogs said you have to nuke 'em in the microwave. Yep. My MIL put the big daddy tick in the microwave and after about 30 seconds or so we heard a loud *POP*. We simultaneously said, "Eeew!" then did the bug dance; you know, like someone just flicked a spider off you and you freak out with creepy crawly skin.
I'm going to do my best to recreate the rest of my news flashes. Where did I leave off? Ah, yes. The shower.
So, there I was sort of standing in the shower, listing severely to the left when I saw my feet side by side for the first time since surgery. The left one was just hanging out, all white and bulging with it's smaller bunion. Then there was the right foot, still black and blue and tinted from the iodine prep, but it was much, much smaller than the left foot. It is a completely different shape. It is so weird to have the shape of your foot change; I knew it was going to change shape but it is something else to see an appendage morph like that.
I'm guessing that all of the shoes I gave away 2 months ago because they were too small would now fit . It is just as well since they were all high heels - something I could wear on a more frequent basis if my left foot wasn't developing a bunion. Stupid feet. They ruin fashion. Not that I'm a fashionista but it is nice to wear sexy heels every now and again.
It was at Ryan's office Christmas party that I last wore heels. I felt like a decrepit old woman as each step hurt more than the previous one. As much as I like the looks of them I won't buy more heels until after I have the left bunion taken care many, many, many years from now. This whole not walking thing sucks. Really. Although wheeling around in a wheelchair is fun - but only because I know it's temporary.
If you have a weak stomach regarding bugs you may not want to read this last bit.
Did you know it is tick season in the northwest? I do. Kea, my dear doggy, got one last weekend. Ryan took her to the vet on Monday to make sure there wasn't more we needed to do for her while we were home for my doctors appointment. When we got back to my MIL's house we saw a bulge on her head - another tick. Then the neighbor lady took Kea and her dog for a walk. More ticks glommed on under her collar.
My MIL held Kea on her dog bed while I pulled the blood suckers out with tweezers. It was so gross. The smallest ones that hadn't attached yet were like the tiniest spider you could imagine but the ones that we missed and were sucking away for a couple of days were ginormous - think the size of a pencil top eraser.
Ticks are nearly impossible to kill but I was still afraid of splatter if I squeezed too hard with the tweezers on the bigger ticks so I covered the bug with a tissue and just peeked while pulling. To kill them my sister-in-law who lives in the sticks and deals with ticks on her dogs said you have to nuke 'em in the microwave. Yep. My MIL put the big daddy tick in the microwave and after about 30 seconds or so we heard a loud *POP*. We simultaneously said, "Eeew!" then did the bug dance; you know, like someone just flicked a spider off you and you freak out with creepy crawly skin.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
News Flash
Ryan gave notice at his job last week; his last day of work will be next Friday. After that he is striking out on his own so if you know of anyone who needs a highly skilled senior transportation engineer with a bunch of letters behind his name and title then lemme know.
He is really excited about this next chapter in his career and I'm excited for him. He had lots of experience managing projects in his soon to be former office but he did not forsee his future with the company taking him to the places that he wants to go (mainly up).
Until he procures his own business he is going to do contract work for a friend in the field who is swamped with work so we aren't going to go hungry anytime soon.
That is the big news in the Jahns household.
Now for the minor news portion of this blog...
I'm going back home this weekend. I've been staying at with my in-laws who have been taking great care of me. I just miss Ryan. I don't want to just see him on the weekends. The plan is for me to rent a knee scooter so I can get around the house. If I need to carry Gavin I will put him in the ergo carrier that I'm going to get this weekend (my mother's day gift).
By the way, if you know of any soon-to-be mom's out there who are looking at baby carriers and they are considering the Baby Bjorn - tell them to skip it and get the Ergo instead. Everyone I've talked to says the Baby Bjorn hurts their back and I've been told it is not very comfortable for the baby, either.
The podiatrist told me I can put 10-20 pounds of pressure on my right foot right now - just enough to keep your balance when standing. I can do that for the next two weeks then I can increase the weight to 10 pounds a day and start to move my ankle a whopping 20 degrees up and down. Ooh, I'm going to wear myself out with all of that exercise.
I'm looking forward to going to the gym with Ryan when I get home. I can still do crunches and I can start lifting weights. The good doc even said I can use the lifecycle if I use no resistance and keep my boot on.
The really exciting news, almost as exciting as Ryan quitting his job is that I can now get my foot wet in the shower/tub! Woo-hoo! Who knew having a clean right foot could feel so good!
He is really excited about this next chapter in his career and I'm excited for him. He had lots of experience managing projects in his soon to be former office but he did not forsee his future with the company taking him to the places that he wants to go (mainly up).
Until he procures his own business he is going to do contract work for a friend in the field who is swamped with work so we aren't going to go hungry anytime soon.
That is the big news in the Jahns household.
Now for the minor news portion of this blog...
I'm going back home this weekend. I've been staying at with my in-laws who have been taking great care of me. I just miss Ryan. I don't want to just see him on the weekends. The plan is for me to rent a knee scooter so I can get around the house. If I need to carry Gavin I will put him in the ergo carrier that I'm going to get this weekend (my mother's day gift).
By the way, if you know of any soon-to-be mom's out there who are looking at baby carriers and they are considering the Baby Bjorn - tell them to skip it and get the Ergo instead. Everyone I've talked to says the Baby Bjorn hurts their back and I've been told it is not very comfortable for the baby, either.
The podiatrist told me I can put 10-20 pounds of pressure on my right foot right now - just enough to keep your balance when standing. I can do that for the next two weeks then I can increase the weight to 10 pounds a day and start to move my ankle a whopping 20 degrees up and down. Ooh, I'm going to wear myself out with all of that exercise.
I'm looking forward to going to the gym with Ryan when I get home. I can still do crunches and I can start lifting weights. The good doc even said I can use the lifecycle if I use no resistance and keep my boot on.
The really exciting news, almost as exciting as Ryan quitting his job is that I can now get my foot wet in the shower/tub! Woo-hoo! Who knew having a clean right foot could feel so good!
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Pretty Please
Can you help me? Help me, please. Please help me.
Don't worry, I don't need help of an urgent nature. I just need some insight into a matter of being rude or not as polite as one could be.
The question is regarding the use of the word "please". More specifically using the word please in a close relationship, say between a husband and a wife. Now, this husband and wife scenario is completely fictional.
When one is in a situation to need near constant help is it rude to make a request without using please? Say, to ask, "Can you bring me a glass of water? Thanks," instead of, "Can you please bring me a glass of water? Thanks."
If it was brought to the attention of the one making all of the requests that they never used please when making a request and then they started to use please sporadically is that OK? If the issue is that please is "never" used then is it acceptable to give the stink eye when please is used some of the time but not every time?
Also, let's not get into the poor grammar of the question being asked; yes, I'm being a bit of a hypocrite about my own poor grammar when I got all huffy about the who-whom sign at Barnes and Noble, but I digress as that is not the issue at hand.
Please leave a comment - all of you readers who read and are afraid to comment, now is your chance to jump in! A simple answer of, "it is acceptable/not acceptable to use please" is fine but feel free to expand on your thoughts.
Thanks. My marriage, er, I mean, some random person's marriage thanks you.
Don't worry, I don't need help of an urgent nature. I just need some insight into a matter of being rude or not as polite as one could be.
The question is regarding the use of the word "please". More specifically using the word please in a close relationship, say between a husband and a wife. Now, this husband and wife scenario is completely fictional.
When one is in a situation to need near constant help is it rude to make a request without using please? Say, to ask, "Can you bring me a glass of water? Thanks," instead of, "Can you please bring me a glass of water? Thanks."
If it was brought to the attention of the one making all of the requests that they never used please when making a request and then they started to use please sporadically is that OK? If the issue is that please is "never" used then is it acceptable to give the stink eye when please is used some of the time but not every time?
Also, let's not get into the poor grammar of the question being asked; yes, I'm being a bit of a hypocrite about my own poor grammar when I got all huffy about the who-whom sign at Barnes and Noble, but I digress as that is not the issue at hand.
Please leave a comment - all of you readers who read and are afraid to comment, now is your chance to jump in! A simple answer of, "it is acceptable/not acceptable to use please" is fine but feel free to expand on your thoughts.
Thanks. My marriage, er, I mean, some random person's marriage thanks you.
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