ELEVEN
Topic: Me!
11. . .11. . .11 is one short of a dozen. 11 is the number after ten and before 12. 11 is how old I was when I was in sixth grade. But also, 11 is how many pounds I've lost since Dec 30!!!!!!! 11!!!! Do you get that??? E.L.E.V.E.N. I thought pregnant people were supposed to GAIN weight. Oh no, not when you tell them they can't eat anything worthwhile. I'm so chicken and turkey'd out that the thought makes me gag!!!!

So I'll leave you with it one more time. Eleven.

Pregnancy and gallbladder = the new fad diet

The new saying
Topic: Momma's Lover Dover
Well, the bad luck strikes again and I am now sick. I seriously didn't think life could get any worse, but boy was I wrong. So poor Chris had to take today off of work to let me try and regain some of my former being and to help handle the child that knows his momma doesn't feel good, has a runny nose himself, and REFUSES to listen to a thing I say.

I slept until 10 this morning. . .yes, Michelle, a slugabed! ;) I fall out of bed to see Chris and Cale in the living room watching one of Cale's Baby Einstein movies in their jammies. After an hour of sitting there, Chris tells Cale it's time to get dressed. Off they go leaving me in my robe with my lonely box of kleenex. All of a sudden, they call me into Cale's room. I walk in and Cale looks at me and says, "You 'anna piece dis????" I stood there in shock and then finally said, "Did you ask me if I wanted a piece of this????????" Cale and Chris both burst into laughter. Isn't that lovely??? My son will now be picking fights by cocking his blonde head and saying, "You 'anna piece dis????" But man, it sure is funny!

Would this be considered another affirmation as to why we suck as parents??

A belated birthday
No, I didn't forget his birthday yesterday. Numerous times I fought back tears and forced myself to smile and go about my day. I just didn't want to deal with it ya know? I also, didn't call anyone, especially my Grandma, to see how they were doing. I saw my dad at his house, we laughed and talked and watched Raymond, but I could feel it in his kiss and his hug as I left and I rushed out the door so he couldn't see me break down.

So although it's a day late, I sure didn't forget. And it was SO hard to celebrate Carly's the day before, knowing that there was an empty spot in the house.

---

You know how much we love you,
you know how much we care,
and although we cannot see you,
we know that you are there.
I often look at pictures,
remembering you here,
and long to hug you so hard,
a warm embrace so dear.
I told Cale it was your birthday,
I swear, he understands,
as he sang a happy birthday song,
and joyfully clapped his hands.
I hope you got my birthday wish,
I sent a hug and kiss up too,
And as hard it was for all of us here,
I know it was an extra special birthday for you!

---

Happy birthday in heaven Grandpa. I hope you got an extra big glass of milk with your cake. . .and please tell me it wasn't dateloaf!! I love you!!!

Beware, I'm going to complain
Topic: Me!
Remember how I said that I sometimes question God's plan?? Well, I've found myself doing it again. Have I not had enough stuff to go through?? I mean really??

Has anyone reading ever suffered a gallbladder attack?? Not a mild one, but one that rips you from a deep sleep, grips you in panic, makes you pray you won't die, then leaves you praying that maybe you will die to relieve the misery?? One that feels like a major heart attack??? Well, I had the unfortunate pleasure of living that exact thing on Sat morning. The pain ranked right next to the hour and a half of labor with Cale with NO epidural in sight. And the attack was only half as long. It also included the hysterical crying, the writhing in bed and the death clutch on Chris as I whispered, "Bubba help me!!"

I spent 3 hours at the afterhours clinic by our house (in hopes of escaping our new horrendous deductible at the ER) and have been told to get a gallbladder ultra-sound to confirm gallbladder problems, then go see my OB to decide what to do with the thing. Unless I have ANOTHER attack. *insert picture of ticking time bomb here*

I knew surgery was an option and it scared me to death (although, in comparison to the attack, maybe just frightened me for a nanosecond is a better way to put it). But as the weekend progresses, I'm actually welcoming the idea of surgery. The memory of the attack is actually making my fear of a subsequent attack worse. I also found out that if it goes untreated or gets even more diseased, this can lead to pancreatitis. People. . .we just delt with this with Grandpa and I REFUSE to go there again. YANK THIS SUCKER OUT!!

Looks like tomorrow will be a pretty eventful and busy day. One filled with more bland food as my mouth waters at the string cheese Cale inhales and at the pictures of beautiful burgers on tv.

Oh yeah. . .Happy Birthday Carly!!!!!!!!!!!!

Want to annoy me??
Topic: Me!
As I was falling into bed last night, I got annoyed. Then it escalated and the list grew so I thought I'd blog it here so that you all can know what NOT to do when I'm in your presence! ;)

Things that annoy me:

Ask me how my butt is.

Ask for a bite of my sandwich then spit it right back out. On top of my sandwich.

Tell me, "Ya know, What's Her Name is 4 months pregnant and she's STILL wearing HER regular clothes."

Straighten the bed out on your side, just pushing all the toys and folded laundry to my side.

Start a sentence out with, "I don't want this to come across as mean, but. . ."

Tell me that my child isn't socialized enough even though you've only known him a whole 5 minutes.

Try to explain the benefits of all the bad crap I've been through in the past month - yeah, is it really a good thing that Grandpa died, Grandma has cancer, Grandma had surgery for cancer and now Grandma is undergoing chemo, all since Thanksgiving?? Don't quite see the benefits of THOSE things.

Keep cutting your hair shorter and shorter and still call me upset about 1. Why you look fatter and 2. Why your hair won't grow.

There, ya got all those?? ;) And yes, my butt still hurts!!

The day my tailbone met Tulsa
Topic: Me!
You know, I rarely screw up. You should all realize how incredibly close to perfection I am, but when I blunder, I love to share it with the world so that we can laugh together. I mean, how often does it happen?? ;)

On Tues 1.4.05, Chris left for work only to return moments later, strip down and crawl back in bed. I looked at him and said, "Dude. . .whaddya doin?" And he said, "Well, I took the day off. SOMEBODY had a baby!" By somebody he meant his bestfriend from high school's wife gave birth and we were going to drive like mad up to Tulsa. Cool.

Bad weather was expected that night and we agreed, or, at least I did, that it would be a shotgun trip to see the sweet baby girl, hang out with her rockin' parents and give my mom much needed Cale time without us running candy interference. BUT (didn't you know there was a but coming?) on the way there I had to get a handy-dandy wipe out of Cale's bag. There, I found evidence of STAYING in Tulsa. Multiple diapers, including an overnight diaper and jammies. I looked at him and said, "OH MY FREAKING GOSH!!! YOU'RE NOT LETTING ME COME HOME!!!" To which he replied, "Yep! I figure if I'm driving home in sleet and ice it would be safer to leave the two of you there." But remember how smart and perfect I am?? I knew what he meant. What he said was actually code for, "If I'm going to wreck your most prized vehicle, I better not do it with you in it or I might have my limbs cut from my body by fingernail clippers."

We get to Tulsa, see and hold and love and kiss that gorgeous child, get the new family in the car and head for mom and dad's. We hang out there for an hour or two and Chris decides it's time to jet. I looked at him and said, "I have nothing. Honestly. . .NOTHING. You can't leave me here." That's when my ever helpful mother chimed in about having a washing machine upstairs and we're better off there yadda yadda something about pills bladda. And off he went. Alone. In my car. Out into the elements.

Irony strikes - the bad weather didn't hit the city until WAY after Chris got home. Funny isn't it?? So we stay the night. It's now Wednesday and the city looks as if frosty has exploded all over. Not pretty. But amazingly, Tulsa was in perfecto shape. Chris calls. "Bad news babe, roads are horrible so it looks like it might be tomorrow." Lovely. My kind father picks up my sorry behind and drives me to the nearest place to buy clothing - K-Mart. Now, we don't have K-Marts in OKC. But hey, they have clean socks, underwear, clothes and, just for dad, 2-1 shampoo.

We sleep again and here's where the fun kicks in. Seriously, you needed all of the above to see how truly funny this story gets.

My normal routine is to stay in bed until Lover wakes up. Once Lover wakes up, I throw on more decent clothes, get him, dress him and we proceed down the stairs. For some REALLY odd reason, I failed to stick to my normal routine. I am a creature of habit and this, folks, lets you understand just why I don't change my routine.

I decided that I was WAY hot and that it would probably be cooler downstairs. Against my better judgment, I let my hot self talk my smart self into heading downstairs before taking the proper time to fully awake. I put my fluffy OU houseshoes on, shuffle around the bed, open the door, close the door, shuffle down what I refer to as the Walkway, make the two rounded steps and set my foot on the first step down. I made that step. Oh yes, and the second and the third. Even made the fourth. But somewhere between the fourth and fifth steps, my brain wasn't connecting with. . .well. . .the rest of my body. And in the most horrifying and loud sounds that you'll ever hear in 2005, this fat, 7w3d pregnant woman, half asleep, found a way to hurl herself down the stairs. I hit EVERYTHING. The houseshoes popped off like skis, apparently as good houseshoes should do, I managed to, what I can only refer to as "rug burn" my right elbow AND my big knuckle on my right thumb. I landed on all fours at the bottom of the stairs. I peeled myself off the tile, shuffled around the corner and held myself up with the couch. I was in hysterics. I hadn't felt that much pain since giving birth to Cale.

Mom didn't help the fact much. She actually asked me what had happened. What happened?? Oh not much really. I decided to relive my childhood and slid my fat butt down the stairs for mere entertainment. Did she really NOT know what had happened??? After 5 minutes of trying to catch my breath, I collapsed on the couch to calm down. After I finally calmed down, I looked at my mom, who, in the most loving manner possible, LAUGHED AT ME! She laughed. She's evil and sadistic and now written out of my will! ;) She made the remark that she thought the condo was coming down or that Oklahoma was being hit by a tsunami. She's really freaking funny.

So now I sit here, before the computer, as my tailbone still aches at the thought. I can't sit straight down, I must sit on my side. Chris told my mom when she lovingly drove me home on that fateful Thursday morning, "Ya know? I leave her up there so she's safe and won't get hurt and what did you do?? You send her home all broken and battered." I feel the love, don't you?

For all those truly concerned about my well being and the well being of Dot, Dot is fine, she enjoyed the ride down. I'm recovering nicely, despite the request to "Sit my a&& on a block of ice" made by none other than Chris, and also despite the numerous, ever helpful comments of, "You need to watch where you're going when you're going down ice covered steps." Yep, people, that ice got bad inside the condo let me tell ya, it's amazing we all didn't freeze in place.

Did you enjoy the story?? Was it all you thought it would be?? I'm so glad I could entertain you. One day I'll show you a pic of the staircase, a staircase that I don't mind not climbing for many weeks and days, the staircase that, no dad, isn't broken or beat up, and the staircase where my tailbone's life was changed forever.

Have I ever told you I don't much care for Tulsa?

Unbelievable!
Topic: Momma's Lover Dover
You'd think that since I, having conceived, birthed and raised Cale, that I'd not be surprised when he acted like me. YOU'D THINK. But each and every time he mocks me or makes me feel like I'm looking in the mirror, I'm surprised. I even get a tad ticked off when my parents say, "Huh. . .wonder who he gets THAT from!" Yep, I hate to hear that. I just want to shout back, "LISTEN HERE!!! YOU RAISED ME!!! I ACT JUST LIKE YOU THEREFORE HE ACTS LIKE YOU AND IT'S YOUR FAULT AND YOU SHOULD BE LOCKED UP FOR BEING SUCH A SMART BUTT!!!!" Yeah, but I don't.

Regardless, every day comes with at least one good, hearty, gut filled laugh from none other than myself. And today's is worth blogging about.

We were getting Cale dressed. . .we being myself and Cale. . .and he said he wanted to wear his big boy underwear. We recited the rules of big boy underwear as he pulled them up and patted his car covered pee-pee and smiled. Next in line. . .pants. I said, "Dude!! Cale!! Let's wear these new fleece pants. Aren't they cool?" To which he replied with BRIGHT eyes and a HUGE smile, "YEP!!" Rock on. . .the kid gets it. So we get them on his LOOOOOONG legs and I go to pull them up, while reciting the everyday lingo of pant-pulling-up. "Cale, Stand up for a sec so I can pull your pants up. Cale. . .Cale. . .LISTEN. Focus!!" I look down to see what has captured his attention so much so that he can't leave it alone. Once again, I shouldn't be surprised to a bit of LINT sticking out between two of his toes was what caused the overwhelming urge to disregard my now stern voice.

"Cale. . .stand up. CALE. STAND. UP." As his hiney finally hit the pad, and his long lean fingers reached down to grab that piece of lint with his name on it, he matter of factly said to me, "Hold on a minute Momma."

Uh. Excuse me?? So I said, "CALE! Did you just tell me to hold on a minute??!!??" And with lint in hand he said again so 16-year-old-like, "Yes. Hold on a minute." He finally stood up, tossed the piece of lint aside and pulled his own pants up then looked me in the face and said, "Hello Momma" as if rejoining the living world again. Once I figured out exactly what had just happened, it became rather funny and comical. Hold on a minute. . . .I can't believe he said that. I'm in shock at how much he IS like me!!

Lord. . .I pray that you make this next one calm, and lax and cut out some of the smart butt-ness. . .I beg of you!!

Ummm yes, is this the lost & found?
I know that I mentioned this a post or two ago, but my friends. . .all things are subject to change!

It seems I've lost. . .my appetite! *gasp*

Can you believe it?!? It's the most bizarre thing!! This NEVER happened with Cale. . .N.E.V.E.R. I don't want to eat, I sure don't want anything sweet and, I've also hit what I refer to as the BLAH WALL.

This lovely wall that is holding me back is quite strange also. I don't feel like doing one itty bitty thing. I just want to sit, in the quiet, all alone and do nothing. I'm just too tired!! This is another thing that is totally different with Dot. In mulling this over with Bubba, it came to my attention that he is amazingly good at sticking his foot in his mouth. After reading what he said, you will be so proud that I laughed it off (so would my shrink! LOL).

Chris ~ Hey. . .what's wrong?

Me ~ Nothing, just SO tired.

Chris ~ Again?

Me ~ No, STILL! I don't remember being this tired with Cale.

Chris ~ I don't remember it either. And you'd think that you would have been MORE tired working than being at home with him.

Me ~ *jaw dropped on the floor in pure shock that my husband could say THAT to me!*

Me ~ *after I've recovered* Ummmm. . .Christopher Dee, do you know how EASY it is to be pg, sit at a desk for 8 hours, make 5 trips to the bathroom and answer a handful of phone calls?? Pretty freaking easy compared to watching a 2 1/2 year old, trying to keep this place REMOTELY clean, making ONE trip to the bathroom with the 2 1/2 year old hanging onto your belt loop and dragging his bike, fielding your phone calls, doing the laundry and trying to keep a clean, tidy appearance.

Chris ~ *remote in hand and turning the tv up before his pg wife decides to cut his head off in a hormonal fit of rage*

Now, one of the reasons that I am shocked is because this man, the father of Cale & Dot, told me, after spending 3 days in a row, alone, with Cale and my other jobs, that he'd rather go to work with the flu than be a SAHD. Ya think he'd remember!!!!!!

Once you think you can't be amazed or surprised, men pull a stunt such as this. Oh well. . .I lived to blog the tale. And back to where I originally started. Has anyone seen my appetite?!?!?!?!?

Because we're cheap!
Topic: Weirdness
I was taking a shower yesterday and began thinking about the stuff in my shower. I wondered what other people had in their showers. Mine consisted of a big fat, barely pregnant lady, a shower curtain with two holes ripped b/c my husband has a shower curtain handicap, 3 bottles of shower gel, one handy dandy pump of Neutrogena face wash, a lovely turqoise colored fish of the radio persuasion, one bottle of conditioner, and one bottle of shampoo that has occupied the same space for. . . .months now.

I left the shampoo bottle for last b/c that is what my attention became focused on. It has literally been there FOREVER and I, in my frugal manner, keep refilling it. With what you ask??? Well, my mother travels an awful lot. No. Seriously. A. LOT. When she travels she stays in the SAME hotels. She's a creature of habit, what can I say? And my mother is also very notorious for her Ross-like urge to take anything and everything not nailed down in the hotel room. She even taught my sister to raid the maid's cart in one very memorable Dallas trip. I'm actually thinking that the Hyatt was very testy in regards to two teenage girls running down the hall dropping shower caps and pens as we fled the scene. But I digress.

Since my mom cannot resist the impulse to NOT take things, she has boxes upon boxes of lotion, cleaner, mouth wash, conditioner, bars of soap and yes, my friends, shampoo. My husband fully supports her kiping abilities as he too is awful handsy in hotel rooms. He also thinks it's really RAD to not have to buy shampoo anymore. I can literally take two pocketfuls of the lovely miniature Neutrogena shampoo bottles and refill our shampoo bottle at home, leaving us with tantalizingly beautiful, soft, clean hair and with an extra $2 in our pocket.

Don't you envy us now???

Reminder
Did I mention that I was HUNGRY!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?