A Body In Motion

... In this house, tends to want to stay at rest after all the movement I've been doing.

Hello! And welcome to "What-the-feck-did-you-think-you-were-doing?-trying-to-move-around-everyone's-freakin'-birthdays-omg!"

We have the lease. We haven't signed it yet - we're waiting on the landlords' researching ways for us to pay electronically.

We've talked to our current landlord, who is fine with us pro-rating into May, until the 15th.

The new landlords said we can get into the new house by May 10th.

My birthday is in early April. Alli's birthday is just past the midway point of April, Aishlinn's birthday is in early May. We also have my best friend Kathleen's birthday, as well as her daughter's birthday, also after and before the midway point of April. Holy crap, Batman. Little does our oldest daughter know that Mommy has a surprise up her sleeve. I'm going to take the Hyrulian shield cake idea that she asked for, and do a mash-up cake. Because the girls' birthdays are within a few weeks of one another, I thought I'd combine My Little Pony with Link. It'll be Derpy dressed as Link, with a miniature shield of Hyrule. I really hope it turns out. The other option I gave Alli was for me to do a TARDIS cake. But, well, I haven't had spectacular results with that. Oh well.

***

And really? Have you ever tried getting rid of furniture for free on Craigslist? Honestly, it's like the hardest thing. They send an email expressing interest. I send one back confirming the size, that you'll need a truck to move it, and asking when can they pick up. I hear nothing back for four hours. It's like chasing someone down to hand them FREE stuff. I went through five interested parties before someone actually responded back. BINGO. The Antique chair is YOURS, Ms.I-have-a-truck! Come and get it TONIGHT.

***

We have boxes - some assembled, others not, still more filled with crap we're either taking with us or are intent on going through before we move. I have a feeling what's going to end up happening is this:
The week before we move, we start taping up boxes.

Me: "Whoops. Guess I never went through this shite. *tapes box up* I'll have time when we move to the new house. I'll do it for sure then."

This is exactly what happened the last time we moved - in 2010. And we still have those exact same emm-effing boxes IN THE GARAGE. (Sorry, I think I'm approaching Moving Rage, Stage 2 right now. It's been a long week already.) Then again, you're reading the ramblings of a woman who still has three dozen 35mm cameras from her wedding that have not been processed yet. We just keep moving the box that says "Wedding Cameras" from house to house.

We've been married seven years this year; I blame it on my husband.

I am known to be a pack mule.

Mommy's purse basically carries everything that you may ever need - from Barbie's lost pink shoe to graham crackers from three years ago that have been crushed into crumbs which are held inside plastic packaging that lies, saying it tastes delicious. No, they don't. They likely taste like stale toe jam.

Anyhow, I digress.

A few months ago, Dave and I were searching online at new products on www.Thinkgeek.com when I saw this little beauty.

I knew I HAD to have it. I proclaimed my intent to receive it on FaceBook. I called out the fact that I NEEDED it and it would be PERFECT to cart all the crap around for other people that I normally do in my purse.

Truth?

The sucker is just too big. It is the biggest messenger bag that I have EVER owned. I took it with me to church on Sunday to give it a test drive before committing to moving all the crap and crumbs over from my ChrisYulKwanzaCkah purse.

It was just too large.

And so now, I am determined to release my messenger bag back into the Wilds where --- oh feck that. I'll just wrap it up and give it to my oldest daughter who turns 14 this April, for her birthday! She was literally drooling over it when I took it out of the box anyway, so I know she'll just be jumping for absolute joy.

And for me? I bought myself at $13.00 black patent leather purse that still fits everything it did before. There's just no dancing gingerbread and holiday decor plastered all over the side of it. I even threw the graham cracker dust bag into the new purse to show I was committed to the change.

I'm such a good mom. Some days.

Kindergarten Woes

Aishlinn, after attending a Waldorf preschool for a year, and then ECFE for the next year so I could make sure she wasn't just literally playing with rocks and sticks and would know how to spell and write her name, began Kindergarten this year.

I adore her teacher. We'll call her "Jane".

Below, follows some of our exchanges. She just *gets* me, you know?

"Jane,
Our schedule got a big messed up this week, so I was wondering if it would be acceptable to have a phone conference from 6:15-6:30 tomorrow evening instead of coming in physically? 

Otherwise, I'll have all three children outside the door, yelling at one another while I try to hear you over the noise. At least if we do a phone conference I can hide in the bathroom and put towels under the door to get some quiet.

Please advise!
Thanks!

PS: Aishlinn is supposed to bring cheese sticks tomorrow for snack. I'm typing this to remind myself and you that they will be in her backpack tomorrow."

Her response:

"You make me laugh.  Yes, we can have a phone conference.  Would you call me at 6:15?  

It will be hard to show you her work...but, we can talk about it.  

I can always meet with you at a different time too, if you would like. 

I'll look for the cheese sticks tomorrow!!  It's not a big deal if you forget.  We are adjustable. 

Thanks, Jane"

My response:

"You have saved my sanity! 

The next few weeks are insane, and I'd really like an idea how Aishlinn has been doing overall before we get too close to the end of the year.
I will absolutely call you at 6:15. From the closet. Upstairs.

Stay warm!
I'm crossing my fingers I'll remember the cheese sticks.
Thank you so much. :)"

Another exchange regarding mean little boys who were picking on my daughter with her adorable little perfect pixie haircut:

"Jane,

I thought to let it ride another day or two, but Aishlinn came home again today - the second day - in tears.

"Mommy, the boys keep saying I have a boy haircut!! They called me a boy."

Me: "Who called you a boy?"

"Alex from Mrs. Nelson's class. And Brady, and Charlie and ... Rex in my class."

You could tell the last boy was really breaking her heart. (Insert inappropriate Mom giggles here because of the drama of a first crush being mean.)

We've been telling her since Sunday that she got an adorable Pixie girl cut. And that only girls can pull off that style of cut, and anyone that says different doesn't know about Pixies or magic.

Obviously it's not working.
It's a silly thing, but as adults, we know it hurts as a small child. I'm not sure what could be done, if anything, but if she seems upset or morose or screams at those boys, or punches one of them... you'll know why.

Sorry to toss this at you."

Her response:

"Hi!

Sorry to hear about the teasing.  Her haircut is absolutely adorable and she looks so mature.  I bet they really like her and teasing is just a way to get her attention.  I'll talk to the boys and hopefully put a stop to it. I didn't hear of it happening, so thanks for bringing it to my attention.  Let me know if it continues. 

You really should be a writer!!  Love your emails.  Too bad this one was about a serious matter.

Have a good day! 

Jane"

If I got a quarter every time someone suggested I should be a writer... I'd be swimming in a sea of quarters.

I've Been Busy

Salutations!

My Life as a Suburban Goddess has been extraordinarily busy the last five years. I started this blog as a way to talk out thoughts and feelings and just generally assure myself and the friends who read it that I hadn't dropped my basket. Yet.

Many things have changed. Some have stayed the same.

My husband Dave is still a web developer.

Our oldest daughter, Alli, is coming up on 14 this year. Aishlinn, who was born right before my heart attack, is going to be six in a couple months.

We also had the surprise of a lifetime - trust me, it was a doozy of a good one - with the addition of our son, Albert Alexander. I know it's such a big name for such a little boy; we call him "Xander" instead.

He is the product of a botched vasectomy (Love you, honey) and one egg that escaped. I was six weeks pregnant before I even went into the doctor - I seriously thought I was dying with all the nausea and bloating I was experiencing. I thought for sure my liver was failing. Nope.

The nurse I see for my INR checks told me, "Your INR has been consistently low for the last six weeks. I bet you're pregnant!" I smirked at her and told her "Shaddup". (Because seriously, she and I have that kind of relationship.) After my INR visit - still coming back low - I had my doctor appointment. She did a physical exam. Then I told her my INR nurse's comment. She decided to do a pregnancy test "Just in case". I peed in the cup. Then waited ten minutes. The doctor came back in and said, "Okay, let's take a look here at those te-- OHMY."

My heart stopped for a full three seconds. "What? WHAT?" I was panicked, sweating, and felt hot and cold. I thought for sure I was going to pass out.

The kindly doctor turned the screen towards me, pointing to a yellow highlighted line of words across the screen. "PREGNANT ------ POSITIVE". I nearly did pass out at that point. My vision narrowed to the words on the screen, stunned into silence.

I knew I couldn't get too excited. I could barely drive home. I kept feeling like this was either the best day or the worst day. It was up to me to tell Dave though.

I cornered him upstairs when I got home. "Hey... they know what's wrong with me."

He stopped and sat on the bed. "What's up?"

"Hah... yeah... Guess what? I'm pregnant."

"FUNNY. Really, what's wr-- ," he could see the sincerity in my eyes. I'm sure that the huge-ass smile of disbelief on my face didn't hurt, either.

And so, after many, many, many trips to my Hematologist, the Cardiologist, and the Perinatologist, we were scheduled for a c-section on February 14th, 2013. Yep, our boy is a Valentine's baby.

I am still a Domestic Goddess, as I like to call it; much of it is due to the fact we still have a toddler at home and childcare is expensive. I do enjoy spending time with my kidlets as well, though.

I did my first 5K with a couple friends last summer 2014. I'm still happy with myself and my body, but I know I can always be healthier, however, I'm in better health than I was five years ago.

Instead of harassing the people on the Interwebs, I now bug my childrens' teachers, write and edit fanfiction for random fandom friends, and occasionally dream of being able to sit down to finish writing something besides a ten minute post that I can ONLY do because Xander is sleeping. After I put another load of laundry in. Or figure out what needs to come out of the freezer to defrost so my family doesn't starve. Fat chance of that - literally.

Um.. Hi?

I'm alive! I made it through the c-section - which turned out to be on May 8th, 2009 (waiting for my platelet count to come up).

Aishlinn Deirdra at 6 lbs, 2 ounces, made her appearance at 9:53am into the world. Meanwhile, I was knocked unconscious because of my low platelet count and other factors.

I woke up and life was grand. Not. The nicest thing Dr. Wagner did for me was he cut vertically along the same scar I had from Allison, 8 years prior. The stitches were great, too. I was able to drive within 4 days. (tee hee hee) The doctors and nurses will usually tell you to wait 2 weeks after your c-section to drive. Trust me - with the vertical cut it's PAINLESS to push your foot down to accelerate while driving.

Again I say, my doctors rock.

So... gave birth, yadda yadda, beautiful and healthy baby girl, go home after 4 days (yippee!), three weeks later we move from Mtka to Roseville. Six days after we move into the house we are renting I wake up with chest pains.

It's 4am on June 11, 2009. I'm having chest pains and it feels like my heart is squeezing itself. I start breathing shallowly. Indigestion? REALLY BAD indigestion? I take some Tums thinking that'll help. I wait 10 minutes. The pain is still there - no better, no worse. I wake up Dave and tell him to call 911.

Now get this picture: I'm 31 years old. Just had a baby a few weeks ago. We are new to the area. I'm not scared though - if anything I'm thinking I'm having awful gastritis, or a gall bladder attack.

The ambulance comes. There's no question - Dave is freaking out right now. Alli is watching her sister sleep in the front room as I am driven off by the nice Allina EMTs. They put an IV in, both females think I am having a gall bladder attack potentially - all because of my age. One of the EMTs gives me a couple of Nitroglycerine tabs - one at a time of course - to cover all bets.

I get to United Hospital and they take a bunch of blood. Do labs and an Echo and an EKG. I get two more Nitro tabs from a nurse, one at a time, rating my pain scale in between as before. At about 4:30 an ER doctor comes in and says that my Troponin level was elevated and they think I had a myocardial infarction. MI. HEART ATTACK.

The first words in my mind were: "WHAT THE FRACK?" What I said aloud was, "Umm... ok? What do we do now?"

In the next 24 hours my best friend came with her toddler daughter to stay with Dave, Alli, and the baby. I ended up going in for an Angiogram. My parents drove down and saw me right before I went in for the diagnostic. Perhaps it was the fact that my IV had sprung a leak (infiltration into the tissue) inside the vein and I wasn't getting enough of the pain meds... or the fact that there was a machine above my head that looked like a giant upside down toilet... whatever it was, the Angiogram was not my favorite thing about the stay.

A couple days later I was out of the hospital, a heart attack survivor. 2% damage that was said to be totally reversible. Heart attack caused by a random clot. Even though I was on Lovenox.

But hey, I'm here. With all new meds and a brand new attitude. How d'ya like me now?

Rounding Home Plate

We're almost there!

Thursday, May 7th, around 11:30am my c-section is scheduled at Abbott NorthWestern Hospital.

My amniotic fluid has been up and down again. I had an office visit last week where I was having contractions every 6-8 minutes. Yep, I was excited! I thought for sure that it wouldn't be too much longer before I drove to the hospital in labor. Yeah, right. So much for another "April baby" like Alli and myself were - as well as my best friend Kathleen and her daughter Evie.

I swore that towards the end of pregnancy I wouldn't bitch and moan like every woman seems wont to do. But I have to say a few words:

I am tired. My back hurts. My belly muscles ache. I'm tired of heartburn. I'm peeing every 15 minutes.

I'm just ready to meet my other daughter and get my body back. I'm sure Dave feels the same way but for an entirely different reason. He was ready for the hormone levels in the house to return to normal about 6 months ago.

Still, we have come a long way and are very excited. I just pray to the Gods that everything goes better than we expected and I am not completely laid up for the following 6 weeks. It's been 8 years since I had Allison, and I don't remember much about the c-section but that it burned when I peed after they took out the catheter. lol

Anyways, we have plans to take the laptop with us to the hospital to make sure we can upload photos and email updates to everyone. Thanks so much for your blessings and well wishes!

Speaking To Soon

I went to my normal Tuesday doc appointment yesterday.

My amniotic fluid had decreased to 5.8, from the 7.X that it's been holding steady at for the last couple visits. My wonderful nurse advised me that anything at 5 and under, since I was 37 weeks, was an indication of an earlier c-section than May 7th that they planned for. Since I'm thankfully so far along, they just wouldn't want to mess around with trying to wait longer and me and the Melon getting into a distress situation.

I spoke with Dr. Wothe after the non-stress test, and luckily the Melon was doing great with a steady heartbeat - no signs of distress. The only thing he did caution me about is if decreased movement - less than 10 movements in 2 hours - to come right in after calling the MAC (Maternal Assessment Center).

She's been kinda lazy with her movements the last day or two, and it was explained to me that as long as she is still moving normally, even if her movements aren't as vigorous, it's due to the decrease in room because of the lower fluid level. So, me, being the paranoid person that I am, will be doing kick counts today every few hours just to make myself feel better.

I've also decided to drink strictly water until my Friday appointment instead of counting any Juicey Juice or milk as fluid. My own experiment to see if that makes a difference in the fluid levels.

Also, we started the Heparin injections last night.
Wow, it makes me miss the Lovenox. Dosing myself 1.3 ccs every 12 hours (6am and 6pm), out of these itty bitty teeny tiny vials of 20,000 units per 1 ml....it's annoying because I have to use two of them each time I dose. And DUDE, you should SEE the length of the needle on the 3 cc tuberculine syringes they gave me. Crap on a stick are they ever long! It's seriously like a 2 and a half inch long needle for the 3 cc syringes.

It just amazes me when I think of how little I personally have gone through... knowing that it may be a lot of medical issues - Factor X/Lupus Anticoagulant, constant blood thinner injections, lab draws, doctor visits - for me, but that there are other women out there who have gone through so much more in order to carry their babies to term. That's what keeps me going.

We're close now. Whether they tell me this Friday we're rescheduling for a sooner c-section, or we can safely wait until May 7th...we are definitely looking forward to our new addition.