Craptober is Over!

At least if you live on the East Coast it is.

This month kicked my butt around the block in about forty-three ways. So Craptober I say to you, "Peace out! You piece of crap!"

Next month, things are going to be different. Two hours, twenty minutes, and counting...

November is National Adoption Awareness Month. Were you aware that Adoption is awesome?! Consider yourself aware-d. And as Katie pointed out, "how could Adoption Awareness Month be anything but awesome!?" No doubt. Bring on Awes-vember!

Trick or Treat

Someday, somewhere along with my tired old bones it will read:

Devoted wife, mother, and wicked wielder of a hot glue gun.

After putting the pedal to the metal and flooring the sewing machine for two nights straight, I present to you Halloween 2010. Captain Hook's hat is on the list of my greatest accomplishments. Felt and hot glue are very forgiving. A blue muumuu? Not so much.

Pictures from the patch.

Know why some heart attacks are dismissed and passed off as heart burn? Because some cases of heart burn feel just. like. that. Your heart under attack. No more peanut m&ms for me. Why do I always have to go overboard and ruin a good thing?

Anyway.

Pictures from the patch.

Freedom!

Either a huge stress has been lifted off my shoulders or these peanut m&ms work better than the fenugreek ever did! Good thing because I was starting to freak over my diminishing supply. Of both the milk and the m&ms.

Early this morning I hauled Porkchop to his appointment with Dr. G. His obturator (retainer) is working like it should and Dr. Pissypants even came over without having me sit around all morning to remove the suture and the nasal formers.

I may have been a little premature in dubbing her Dr. Pissypants. Either she was having an off day last week or she sensed my "I'm on to you and the fact that you haven't done this before and I'm not thrilled about it." attitude. Because today she was my best buddy. Win over Mom. Let that be a lesson to all Residents coming into contact with pediatrics. So, she clipped the suture, I tore off the No-nos, and walah! Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty he is. free. at. last.

Craptober's Redeeming Quality

Monday and Tuesday are mostly a blur.

Wednesday I took the car to the dealership to find the source of the horrendous metal grating sound, and Porkchop to his post-op. I splashed the Resident with breastmilk. Her reaction was that of my contaminating her with arsenic. I wanted to laugh so bad, so I did a little. She deserved it. She had no bedside manner what. so. ever. and wouldn't give me the okay to remove Porkchop's last suture myself. Instead, I get to return in a week so she can do it. She must need the practice, but I don't need the drive. Betcha a thousand I've removed more sutures than she has. Scrunch was a leapfrog the ENTIRE visit. That is until the last three minutes when she switched to a kangaroo and hopped to the elevators. Dr. Pissypants did not think this was as funny as I did.

I needed to get out of the house. Somewhere fun. Up there with food, water, oxygen. Need. So I took Scrunch on a field trip to the pumpkin patch while Porkchop stayed with Papa. It wasn't till the drive home that she noticed her brother was missing and asked where I put him. This was Thursday.

By Saturday I needed out again. The park would have been closer, but instead we went to Six Flags. I felt all She-rah!! because I pumped in the parking lot and syringe fed during the dolphin show. And it was raining! She-rah! Scrunch pet an elephant, stomped in every. single. puddle. and rode a 'copter. Porkchop rehearsed for a part in The Boy in the Plastic Bubble under my clear umbrella.This little adventure lacks adequate documentation because I left the camera on the counter. At home.

Today I dropped my phone shattering the shmancy touch screen into a zillion tiny pieces. One of these ending up in my thumb. The kiddos were over tired and cranky thanks to all of yesterday's fun. I ate too many peanut m&ms. I'm still eating them.

Craptober is on an upswing. Tomorrow they will remove his last suture and the stents. I will burn the no-nos. Halloween costumes are looking awesome, and my parent's are coming this weekend. Sweet hallelujah! We've almost made it through the month.

One for the album.

3 a.m.

Scrunch wanders into our room at the same time Porkchop wakes up. She picks up the monitor, holds it to her ear, and "PAPA!! ERICK IS ON THE PHONE AND HE'S CRYING!!!"

What we're about.

Like a good mama monkey, I just spent forty minutes picking the crusties out of Porkchop's nose. A little cleaning up while he was still sleeping for a special occasion. His one week post-op appointment is this afternoon.

One week. Good glory! Is that all it's been? It's been a long week. I didn't know I could be so tired. I used to go to school all day, wait tables at night, do clinicals on Friday and Saturday getting up at 4:30a.m. and then wait tables until midnight. Then I'd wait for Husband to get off at 1-2am. When I graduated I worked twelve hour night shifts and went to school during the day. What happened? Holly says it's because I'm getting old. That must be it. When I am really old I will be the old lady that eats dinner at 4:30p.m. and is in bed by 6:30. You betcha.

Holly also said that Monday was not Monday, it was Crapday. When I told Husband he laughed and called this month Craptober. That's all he has to say about that.

When he blessed Porkchop in August he blessed him that he might find joy and view life as fun throughout the many difficulties in his life. As his mama, I was annoyed that my husband blessed my baby with having difficulties and challenges. I'm a little more grateful now. Like it or not they're gonna come. Dang it all! That Little Turkey has been all smiles. He flaps his arms like a little bird but doesn't go anywhere. Hence, the turkey. Smiley and totally chill. That's my boy. They call him Mellow Yellow. His Indian name is Baby With The Most Nicknames EVER. At night he'd really, REALLY like to suck his thumb and snuggle his face on my shoulder two things he can't do yet. One more week.

Scrunch, is well...Scrunch. You could say she didn't ask for any of this. Her world has been a little more than unfair the last week. Or five months. But you know what? I think she knew exactly what she was doing, what Someone was doing when she was sent to this family. NO ONE messes with her brother. Only she is allowed to launch a sippy cup in his direction across the back seat. Not twenty minutes later she told me, "My brother is great." We all think she is great.

Ani and Jedi are still here. So is the cat. I think.

I've kept flowers alive for an entire year.

And it's raining here this week.

Chopper v1.2

A few have tip toed around this fact. And so I will say it for you. Porkchop was cute before. A damn fine lookin' specimen if I say so myself. His little personality sparkled and his toothless grin reminded me of a little Asian man sitting in the park playing Mah Jong. But now..now!...Now, I choke up at the thought that one day he is going to love another lady more than me. Fighting off those ladies is going to start, like, next week.

If he had words beyond the pterodactyl screech he is intent on perfecting he'd be like, "Dude, Mom. Why do you keep staring at me?" It's hard to explain...He looks so different. So, so different. I have to remind myself that it's still him. Prior to surgery he was so sparkly. So cuddly. So Porkchop. And since surgery he is a little um...stoned, thank you codeine. A little more complicated to cuddle, thank you No-nos. And a little less Porkchop. It's harder for him to lick his chops. He's Porkchop version 1.2. A sleeker, more polished version. I was just used to the original model.

His new features though have their benefits. It's going to take a little adjusting but through the pain control, and post-op care I can already see the difference in his ability to eat and breathe just a little better.

His last 'before' shot. And yes, I'm crying right now.

No Worries

So, I got in way over my head when promising daily posts. Mama's a little rusty on the night shift and sleep and showers are a hot commodity, but I thought I would check in and let you know Porkchop is a champ.

Mas mucho later.

Jittery

Are you a pull the tape off really fast kind of person or really slow? This. is. killing. me. I'm ready to get this show on the road. We check in tomorrow at 7:15am. Surgery is scheduled for 8:30a.m. I wasn't nervous until they called to tell me I couldn't feed him after 3am. Whether he sleeps through the night doesn't matter because I'll be waking him up to eat. We've talked it over and Scrunch has been prepared that they're going to 'close his lip' and that he is going to look different but it's still our Porkchop.

The little bugger was soooo happy today. He's generally an easy going kid, but today was over the top. Like salt in a wound. Poor kid doesn't even see it coming.

Inbox

I do not speak Greek. The last words of my previous post were "I love you" and "thank you" but I can't remember now which one was which. I learned them by Googling 'Greek for thank you and I love you'.

So to the Internet I say... Efharisto. S'agapo. 
Both of them because I still don't know which one was which.

It's so funny this medium that we have available to us. If you could see my inbox and the whole picture, you'd laugh. I think. This week especially. Because you know I don't blog about everything. Not even close. Which is how I can receive a hateful e-mail which caused me to rely on the Atonement and put forgiveness to the ultimate test the same day I receive a comment that maybe I shouldn't be a 'cussin. And I had to laugh. out. loud. If only they had seen my entire inbox this person might have realized that perhaps that day I had earned a string of expletives. But it's okay because the very next day I get an awesome shout-out of support and encouragement (regarding the first e-mail) and a hilarious comment offering me a pirated copy of Jillian's 30 Day Shred. (Are you calling me fat :) ?) This was all sprinkled with some nice comments about my cute kids. (Aunt Marti, wanna meet at the Happiest Place on Earth?) Then the next day among the funny's forwarded by my father in law and the silly texts back and forth between my sisters (Ya goobers.) I got another note of love, support, and encouragement where I was offered both kind words and a cupcake. Score!

To all of it. To all of you. Efharisto. S'agapo.


***
Starting tomorrow I will be posting daily updates of both Porkchop and some other FYI regarding cleft lip/palate. I found some super helpful information on-line and I'm banking on the fact that the waiting room will have wi-fi. So this week...All Cleft All the Time. Think of it like Shark Week. Kind of boring, but you just can't help but watch. And my kid is way cuter than some dumb 'ole shark.

In Greek

Husband's response to it all? "I'm glad it's scheduled soon. Then you'll only have six days to worry about this."

Wha-hut? Me worried? Why would I worry?

Who doesn't want to place their infant son under general anesthesia while a practical stranger takes sharp instruments to his face, following which he will then be fed with a syringe for two weeks and be in arm restraints?

On Tuesday my Porkchop will undergo cheiloplasty (cleft lip repair surgery), bilateral tube placement, and nasal tip rhinoplasty. Fancy words for "they're going to sew up his face." In many ways this is great. In the long run it will make it so much easier for him to eat, breathe, hear, and ultimately speak. I know that. But what's Greek for "this is going to suck"?

Three more days.

On a happier note, my baby bestowed the ultimate of pre-surgical parenting gifts EVER by sleeping from 8pm to 5:30am.

Can I special order three more days of that?

Efharisto. S'agapo.

Friday Photos From the Phone

 Brought together by their mothers' love for Tom Petty and a little sarcasm- two little monkeys swingin' in a tree.

Baby Grasshoper gots toes!

My Porkchop

"Does it bother you when people look away?" my sister Jess asked after carrying Porkchop through Costco one day.

"Sometimes."

Adults have a harder time with it than kids. I love the kids' reaction to Porkchop. Everything from "Your baby has a hole in his face." and "It's okay, I think he's still cute." to "I'm sorry for your baby" and "Does it hurt him?" Kids make no presumptions. They just call it as they see it and they are just okay with it all.

Adults have a harder time. It makes them uncomfortable. They don't know what to say so instead they look away. They pretend not to see him. Or they feel the need to make me feel better. This is the worst. While I know people mean well, they really just don't know what to say. So they say things like "They can do amazing things now!" or talk about their cousin's dog groomer's son who had a cleft lip/palate and now you can hardly tell! They ask me when we'll get it fixed and "how soon can they make the repair?"

See, here is the thing. Sure it was a bit of a shock. No it's not a beautiful thing to watch him sneeze a concoction of denture adhesive and cottage cheese. And I admit it looks a little funky. But I'm his mama. My first inclination was never, how soon can we get this fixed? But rather, is he going to know I love him exactly the way he is?

I came across a forum where a mom talked about missing her baby's cleft. Weird! But I get it! (Cuz I'm weird!) Everything we have done up to this point- the appointments, the tapings, the appliance, the pumping. EVERYTHING has been to improve his outcomes. And yet I sit here bawling like a baby because she was right, I'm going to miss this little face.

Be careful what you wish for!

Just when we were starting to get in the swing of things. Blogging again. Sleeping again. Knitting again. I've made dinner twice this week. The works. 

But don't get too cozy. What is that they say? Oh yeah...No rest for the wicked. And the good don't need it. 

His consult went so well today they scheduled surgery. For Tuesday! As in, less than a week.

And with that, the entire calendar was wiped clean and mama's got to get her butt in gear.

Ten Things I've Learned From Blogging

A few of the Famous Bloggers I read are doing this. I don't know if it was a call to arms in defense of blogging, or someone justifying why they never seem to get around to deep cleaning their bathrooms.

What I've Learned From Blogging

1. My blog tastes are about as varied as my music tastes. Enya, Tom Petty, Roxette, Black Eyed Peas, and Sarah McLaughlan are a few of my favs.

2. Private blogs bug the crap out of me. I totally get it. But it still bugs.

3. If you're funny I will (blog) stalk you.

4. These little dudes ( )( ) ( ) ( ) come in handy for interrupting your own thoughts mid (or end) of sentence.

5. No one cares what I say as long as it accompanies cute pictures of my kids.

6. Your Grandma is always your biggest fan.

7. I like reading my old posts. I hope Scrunch and Porkchop like reading them someday too.

8. Scrunch and Porkchop will not be shocked to read Shit, Damn, or Hell. Just sayin'.

9. I like to make people cry. Let me re-phrase. I like it when people's response to something I've written is crying. It means I've struck a chord.

10. When I blog I feel like I've accomplished something that day.

The person I referenced above is NOT me. See?

O.K. I was going to take a picture of my sparkly, squeaky clean bathroom. But it isn't. So maybe it is me.

The Comment That Made Me Choke On And Spew Out My Cereal

As I sat down to lunch with my bowl of Raisin Bran (I like Raisin Bran any time of the day. So sue me), I checked my e-mail from my phone. I gagged, I choked, and spewed the contents of my mouth across the counter.

I mentioned charting. The comment was "Um, charting for work or the other kind of charting?"


Um, yes. Charting for work. And with only the kindest, most loving of knitting friendship thoughts I ask, "Are you insane?!?!"


Did you really think that I was trying to get preg. gulp. nant? 


Just so we're clear. So everyone is clear. Oh Good Golly Miss Molly Hell No!


As much as I love (adore even) my kids, for as hard as it was to get them here (up to and including adoption and years of fertility mumbo jumbo), and as much as we plan on raising more, it is in the Some Day. I am firmly implanted in the camp that child spacing is a positive thing for my health, my children's health, and the health of my marriage.


For the reasons, the rant, and to kavetch in general, see me Tuesday. Only sleet or snow would keep me away. I'd make a terrible Postal Service worker, but I AM COMING TO KNITTING!


I'd expand but I just got so worked up that the bottle I was pumping into overflowed all over the keyboard. 


There. I hope you just lost some of your lunch. :)

This is not a tag.

It just looks like it is. But it's not.

It's not fair when...
1. You're recovering from a cold, but not sick enough to call in sick.
2. Having a cold and it's hotter than 90 degrees. It's just wrong.
3. You have to go to work when it's one of two days a year you get to stay home and watch Church in your jammies.

Best pennies I ever spent... I didn't spend them this weekend, but acknowledged just what a very smart move they were.
1. Awesome stereo in the car- Rocking out to LIVE's Lighting Crashes is just motivating, okay?
2. Orange Crocs- I don't care what anyone says. They've been good to me.
3. $5 dollar purple (that is now more grayish) watch from The Store That Shall Not Be Mentioned (purchased prior to boycotting the big "W".) That thing has just kept on ticking!

What I wish I had a picture of...
Scrunch dancing in the front room naked except for a pink feather boa.

What I wish I had a video of...
Porkchop 'singing' himself to sleep along with the light-up seahorse named "Baby."

What I wish I didn't forget before leaving the house this morning...
1. Mascara
2. My wallet
3. Cigarette lighter adapter for my pump.

What I like most about my job (today)...
1. Scrubs- They look all official and stuff, but really they're just comfy.

This weekend's most awkward moment...

Somehow one phone in one pocket called the other phone in my other pocket, so both pockets started noticeably vibrating as I approached the counter to pick up my Jamba Juice. And then it took me a sec to figure out which call took priority as to which one to answer first and then realizing it was me accidentally calling me.

Three most frequently thought thoughts...
1. Whatever floats your boat ya wackadoodle.
2. Get off the road! Shmuck!
3. I would miss church in my jammies for this.

Three things I need to do before I can go to bed tonight...
1. Chart
2. Chart
3. Chart

Three things I'm putting off doing right now...
1. Charting
2. Charting
3. Charting