Random Thoughts

Not itching is bliss, I tell you!  Bliss!!

Fall makes me crave pumpkin, apples, and soup.

I had a dream last night that I was down to my last Sharpie and I got to go to Staples.  It made me laugh.  It made Kev laugh.  Any of you who know about my love affair with office supplies are either giggling or rolling your eyes.

Although I’m still a fan of real books (Aaaah! The smell of paper!), my Kindle has been enormously convenient while nursing a baby when I only have one hand available.

When my other babies were fussy and wanted to be held, I spent a lot of time sitting at the computer playing one-handed computer games such as Solitaire, Minesweeper, Tritryst, or a silly little Linux based game called Bounce that I got really good at when Matthew was an infant.  Since I am doing Malia’s baby book digitally (Matthew only has two or three things in his book, poor kid.  Kev suggested I try a different approach this time.), when she is fussy I sit and exercise my digital scrapbooking skills instead.  Yes, it takes a bit more brain power than Bounce, but it is also a much more productive use of my time.

A thought to accompany my last random thought: I love digital scrapbooking graphics.  They are high resolution, look great when printed, and are available in every shape, size, and color imaginable.  I also really love Photoshop and really, really love InDesign.  The folks at Adobe deserve the millions they have made off these products.

Having a life that is emotionally crazy and socially stagnant has made me a blogging rock star.  In the past 36 days I’ve had 27 posts.  That is a record for me.  However, it will be nice when I have less to post about...

Happy (It Was Supposed To Be Your) Birthday, Baby!

Today was the day Malia was scheduled to be born.  Instead we are celebrating her one month milestone.  She has gained two pounds in the past month, is eating like a champ, and is awake for several hours in the morning and again in the evening.  Of all my babies, she has been the one with the least amount of confusion between night and day.  She is beginning to take notice of her surroundings and spends her waking time looking around with big old eyes.  She has been a very good tempered baby thus far, only crying when she is hungry or tired.  She doesn't like to be swaddled and dislikes the feeling of air moving on her (we have to turn the ceiling fans down or she just lays under them sputtering and complaining).  And she is the subject of some pretty serious baby worship.

I think it has actually been good that the boys have been off-track for Malia's first three weeks at home.  It has given them a chance to see what life will be like with a baby in the house and to spend some time getting to know their sister and her routines.  So happy (sort of) birthday, Malia!  We're glad you're here!

Life's Lessons Aren't Always Easy

Tonight was the Pinewood Derby.  Daniel and Nathan have both spent the past week getting their cars ready.  Daniel was excited to race.  Nathan, having never done a derby before, wasn't sure if he was excited.  Rather than just having one winner for first, second, and third places, our troop opted to have three winners in each of three colors: blue, red, and white.  Essentially, they would have nine winners instead of only three.  When the boys got home after everything was over, Nathan informed me that he had tied for first place in the white category (that translates to 7th place).  He had not expected to win anything and was pleasantly surprised.  He was very gracious about it, not boastful or bragging.  I was pretty darn proud of how he handled a bit of success.

Daniel was disappointed that he didn't do better.  He was presented with a certificate for the most artistic car, but he was a bit upset.  For a kid who has been largely successful in his endeavors thus far, it was a bit tough not only not doing as well as he had hoped, but to have his little brother do better than he did.  Daniel is very used to doing things the other boys don't get to do and getting things they don't get.  It is just part and parcel of being the oldest.  But as the other boys get older, I'm afraid he's going to have to deal with not always being first in line for things.  And like everyone, he will learn that we don't always get to win.  And as his mother, I have to say that I think it is good for him to experience all the ups and downs that life has to offer.

She's A Little Stinkpot!

So it is already painfully obvious to us that Malia has a mind of her own.  She is highly opinionated and one of her opinions is that she hates her oxygen tubing with a blinding, fiery passion.  Can't say that I blame her.  She has gotten very adept at reaching up and yanking the tube out of her nose.  Two days ago I watched her reach up and grab the top of one of her little cheek stickers and claw it down so the tube would come out.  We are constantly replacing those little stickers because once they have been pulled open, they won't hold the tube anymore.  Her poor little cheeks are taking a beating from all the adhesive.

Today she is at it again.  She was lying peacefully on the floor when I looked over and saw this:

She's looking pretty darn pleased with herself.  She cried when I put the tube back on her.  Can't say that I blame her.

O2 Update

Malia still has extra gas...the kind in the oxygen canister, that is.  (She occasionally gets the other kind as well, but you probably don't need to know that.)  During her monitoring period this morning, she was fine when she was awake but still falls into the low 80's (occasionally the upper 70's) when she is asleep.  However, her periods in the low 80's were definitely shorter than they were last week.  She would drop down for a short period and then pop back up to the 90's, hang out there for a bit, and then drop again for a short time.  So again, progress.  But just not enough for me to be comfortable taking her off the oxygen.  Seeing 70's on the O2 monitor will do that for me.  The 70's usually means your child is turning blue.  I've been there with some of my other children.  Don't really relish the thought of a repeat.  So we'll stay the course for a bit longer.

(As a side note, Malia now weighs 7 pounds 8 ounces.  If she had waited until this Thursday to be born, she probably would have been an 8 pounder like all her brothers.)

It’s A Good Thing The 80’s Look Is In

Last time I gave Malia a bath I tried to comb her hair down.  It wouldn’t lay flat.  I just kind of stuck up sideways when I tried to make it flat.  Nathan looked at her and said, “That doesn’t look right.”  So I combed it back up.  Then he said, “That’s better.  Now she looks like Malia.”

Apparently my daughter is going to be sporting the Mohawk look for awhile.  But at least her Mohawk is tall enough that I should be able to put some itty bitty barrettes in it…

We All Deal With Stress Differently

You know how I’m dealing with the stress of our current crazy life, but how about the boys?  How are they dealing with it?  Daniel, as always, is in his own little world.  He knows what is going on but just keeps doing his thing with very few alterations.  He is probably the only one in the family who has been cool as a cucumber lately.

The first couple of nights that Malia was home, Nathan would come into my room in the middle of the night when I was up with Malia.  Although it was not a conscious thing, he was listening for her to cry and waking up when she did.  Once Kev showed him where Malia sleeps and that I can reach her from my bed, he was able to stop listening for her.  He is, however, still having nightmares.  The last one was about invisible vampires who bit one of his friends while his friend was sitting in the baby swing…

When the bigger boys are off-track, Matthew usually prefers Nathan to take him to preschool.  But lately he has wanted me to take him and once we are there he is clingy and reluctant to go in to school.  He has never been that way, not even on his first day of preschool ever.  He cried when it was his turn to give the theme in primary yesterday.  He usually loves to participate in primary and has never even been nervous.  He has had more potty accidents (mostly bed wetting incidents) in the past two weeks than he has had in the past year and last night he broke down sobbing when Daniel and Nathan wouldn’t let him take the glass dishes out of the dishwasher.  He was terribly upset because he can be very careful. (Daniel and Nathan don’t know that when Matthew helps me I let his do the glass dishes as long as I am close at hand because he is very careful.)

I’m hoping that getting rid of the oxygen and the hives will help us all.  Eliminating those two things will be taking a big step in the direction of normal.  And I think we could all use some normal around here.

Have You Ever Wondered Why They Are Called Hives?

Is it because they start off looking like a bee sting?  Or is it because once they all swell together it feels like the whole hive of bees attacked you?  I suppose it really doesn't matter, but it is so awesomely uncomfortable that I can't think about anything else...

My entire body, including my face, looks just like my feet.  I took Matthew to get his staples out yesterday and got all kinds of crazy looks from people.  I could just see their minds spinning: “What is wrong with that lady?!”  I was tempted to tell them that I have ebola...

What's Next?!

Yesterday I broke out in hives all over my body.  Not fun.  After spending the entire day trying to figure out what was causing them, I went to the doctor and told him that I had been unable to pinpoint the culprit.  He asked a bunch of questions about medications and food and then he asked, "How is your stress level?"  Yup.  He thinks my hives are stress induced.  Yeehaw.  Just what I need.  A stress reaction that adds to my stress.  And I thought I was actually handling things pretty well.  Of course, the dinner plate sized hives on my rear end would seem to say otherwise.

But seriously, I've only dissolved into tears three times in the past three weeks and considering everything that has happened and taking into account that I've got loads of postpartum hormones racing through me, I really think I'm managing quite nicely.  Yes, things have been pretty crazy (In the past month, the longest we've gone without having someone at the doctor, the hospital, or the instacare is three days.  Try and beat that!) but overall I'm feeling okay with how everything is going.  And yet the hives are still going strong.  I'm on prednisone and zyrtec and I'm still itching like crazy.  The ones from yesterday have faded, but new ones have taken their place.  For those of you who have never had hives, let me just tell you that it itches so badly that it makes me want to claw my own arm off....

On the bright side, my usual reaction to stress is getting a headache and as horrifying as the hives are, they are still better than a migraine.  Not much better, mind you, but at least I can function...and scratch...

Growing Like A Little Weed

Malia had another appointment with the doctor this morning.  Our main purpose was to hook her up to the blood oxygen monitor and see how she is doing.  She does fine when she is awake and when she is feeding, but when she falls asleep and gets all relaxy her blood oxygen drops into the low 80's.  So she is not ready to be off the oxygen yet, but a week and a half ago she was dropping into the 70's when she ate and slept so I still feel like we are making progress.

On the bright side, Malia now weighs 6 pounds 11 ounces and is 20 inches long.  Her doctor was mightily impressed with her weight gain and we both feel like getting her to grow is no longer a concern.  She doesn't have any baby dimples yet, but her skin is no longer hanging off of her legs in folds.  And her cheeks are chubbing up quite nicely.  Considering she is only at 37 weeks gestational age, if she had actually waited to be born when she was supposed to be she very well may have made it to eight pounds.

(We had to move her to the bigger basket. Thanks to Wendy for inspiring me with the whole basket idea.  It is the cheapest bassinet ever!)

Is It Really Worth It?

After hauling a car seat full of baby, a diaper bag, my purse and a freakin’ heavy oxygen tank to the instacare yesterday, I woke up this morning feeling a bit achy.  It has only been two and a half weeks since I had a c-section, after all.  And that got me thinking about the benefits and shortcomings of c-sections.  Besides the fact that I always have a tendency to get a bit panicky (You would to if you knew you were going to be wide awake while someone cut into you and played with your innards.  In fact, I believe that was a common torture method in medieval times…minus the epidural of course.), there are actually good things about them.  So I’ve compiled a pro/con list to see whether c-sections end up in the positive or negative column in my life:

Pro: No squishy faced babies or cone heads.

Con: The huge gaping hole in my belly.

Pro: Lots of good pain meds to deal with the gaping hole.

Con: Two weeks of only hospital approved activities and an addition month of restricted activity after that.

Pro: Two weeks of only hospital approved activities and an addition month of restricted activity after that.

Con: The nagging ache afterward that should completely go away in 3-5 years.

Pro: A completely valid excuse for making other folks do the heavy lifting.

Con: $$$$$$ and may I add $

Pro:  

 

  

Yup.  I definitely think those last pros make up for all the cons.

Staples Are Faster Than Stitches

It’s true.  With stitches they have to very carefully take each stitch, tie off the sutures, clip the threads, repeat, repeat, repeat.  With staples it’s just ka-chunk! Ka-chunk! Ka-chunk!  And you’re done.  With some medical grade staples of my very own right now, I can tell you that the sound of the stapler is one of the things about the surgery that I very clearly remember.  Add to that my layer of Dermabond (the medical grade super glue) and all the finish work was pretty darn speedy.  After falling off a couch in our next door neighbor’s garage and cracking his head open on the cement this afternoon, Matthew was pretty freaked out. But the repair work was all over much faster than the stitches two years ago.

He did not, however, like the whole irrigating and cleaning of the wound.  They used one of those big old syringes to shoot the water on his head and he told Kev that he didn’t like the “punchy water.”  After two weeks in the hospital, two doctor’s appointments this week and a trip to the instacare, I really could use a break from the health care industry.  Don’t get me wrong.  I really like our health care providers and they’ve taken good care of all of us lately, but I really could do without seeing them for a couple of days.

I Really, Really Don’t Get It

Today was Matthew's first day back at preschool.  He has been asking for weeks when he would go back on-track and was more than ready to start school again.  He loves the idea of going three times a week instead of two, but I think it is going to take him a minute to adjust to the fact that show and tell is no longer on Thursdays.  (He is in school Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.)  

Remember the pink rectangle?  The one he refused to stand in all of last year?  A years' worth of weathering make it necessary to repaint the rectangle and his teacher, knowing his neurosis about the pink, painted it orange instead.  He was very excited when he rode his bike down to see it last week and he told his teacher he would stand in the rectangle because it wasn't pink.  But guess what?  He won't stand in the orange rectangle either.  When I asked him why he wouldn't stand in it, he told me he was scared.  Scared of what, may I ask?  Is he afraid to be one of the crowd?  Is he afraid of bright colors?  Is he afraid that by standing on the rectangle he will single handedly bring us one step closer to an Orwellian future?  I really do not know.  And he’s not telling.