My coffeemaker randomly overflowed AGAIN this morning, despite my remembering the inner basket and the filter and the carafe and it wasn't my fault and basically I HATE IT AND ITS ASS FACE. *** The unthinkable (yet long-predicted-by-readers-of-this-blog) thing finally happened last night: Jason and I both turned to Noah -- our precious little speech-delayed child -- and begged him to please, just shut up for a goddamn minute, just be quiet, oh my God, my eardrums cannot take another second of full-volume chatter about goddamn Corduroy and his goddamn button and HERE COMES THE CAT! HERE COMES THE CAT! HERE! COMES! THE GODDAMN! CAT! and seriously, child, do you ever stop to breathe anymore? *** (I assure you that last bit had a LOT fewer "goddamns" in real life.) *** I went ahead and sent in our deposit to the Montessori preschool. I just don't feel -- right now, anyway -- that Noah's little quirks and "issues" and "whatevers" are enough to justify pulling him out of the mainstream. I...yes. I feel that. I'm still not totally back up to my old confidence levels regarding my decision-making skills for him, but I finally pulled my ass out of that... Read more →

Let me back up and expand on something that I talked about yesterday, because nothing makes for a more exciting blog post than a story that you already know the ending to. It happened a few weeks ago, when I was still staying at my parents' house, on the night before my dad's surgery*. My mom had returned to the hospital after dinner for one last private visit. I was alone in the house with two children, my dog and my mom's three cats, cleaning up the kitchen after yet another successful Crock Pot meal (seriously, yo, I rock the Crock). Noah was watching WALL*E; Ez was on a quilt on the floor and completely enraptured by the ceiling fan. The movie came to a scene where alllllll the little future babies go sliiiiiding across the slanting deck of the ship -- a scene that always causes a brief fit of alarm for Noah. (SPOILER: EVERYBODY DIES AND IS EATEN BY ROBOTS.) He asked to give Baby Brother a hug. Awwww, I thought. He wants to make sure HIS baby is okay! How sweet! I gently propped Ezra in the chair next to Noah and, with my Sappy Preshus Family... Read more →

My phone rang on Saturday at the exact wrong time for the phone to ring. Screaming baby, whining preschooler, misplaced shoes and house keys and that stupid plastic Piston Cup that has suddenly become the most beloved and cherished toy in the world, although apparently not beloved and cherished enough to NOT CONSTANTLY BE LOST. I let the call go to voice mail. When Jason's phone rang a few seconds later, I froze. "It's your mom," he said. But I already knew that. I grabbed the phone and fumbled with it for a bit -- my palms had gone completely clammy -- and heard nothing but my mother's sobs. The room began to spin and my heart dropped into my shoes and I took two stumbling steps towards the step between the foyer and living room. I'd been standing next to a nice upholstered bench, but for some reason the step looked like a better option. Like if I heard the news while closer to the floor there would be less of a chance that I'd hurt myself when I went into a full-on slide-to-the-floor meltdown. The news was bad, but it was not That Bad News. He was alive,... Read more →

We're snowed in (well, more like ice-and-slushed in at this point), we're slowly on the illness mend, and the news from the hospital is neither particularly good nor particularly dire. (They're...shocking his heart? because it's still beating irregularly? and he's at high risk for a stroke and the pneumonia has taken a turn for the even worse? and while this sounds terribly awful they seem rather nonchalant about the whole thing?) (Also: they! I shake my fist at you, they!). It's always just a matter of time, I've found, if I post a few complain-y, overwhelm-y entries, before the suggestion is made that I am depressed and should call a doctor and consider some meds. Which always makes me toss up my hands and wonder when it suddenly became impossible for someone to just be SAD when things are not going especially spectacularly? Can't anyone just be SAD anymore? But that's not really fair, since I know people really do mean well, and when all you have to go on is that series of complain-y entries, you might assume I really AM doing nothing but wallowing in my nice bowl of sadness soup. (Mmmm. Soup.) I assure you that I... Read more →

Dad Update: His left lung, the one that collapsed, has been drained of fluid and...uh...reinflated? uncollapsed? You know. Whatever the proper technical term for WE DONE FIXED IT is. But! Now he has pneumonia in the right lung, and is hallucinating from a lack of oxygen to his brain. And not fun hallucinations that we can tease him about later. Scary dreary hallucinations about death that are making my mom cry and me stress-eat the hell out of a pan of brownies. AND THEN there are a couple heart-related things that I cannot spell but we are assured are at least somewhere in the realm of "normal" complications. So...yay for that? Noah Update: Despite waiting for almost two months for yesterday's evaluation appointment, I sincerely wished I could have rescheduled. Y'all know what the past few months have been like, health-wise, over here, with the colds and sinus infections and ear infections and ear infections LEAKING OUT OF OUR EYEBALLS. So you know that I know Sick. I am an expert at Sick. And yesterday I was indeed at the level of Sick where I shouldn't have been anywhere except my bed, researching the same damn breastfeeding websites, hoping for... Read more →

Done But Not Over

The breaks. We cannot has them. Since I posted on Friday, things went from Fine to Not Fine. "Kaflooey," is my mom's technical term for it. My dad's lung collapsed, his blood sugar went through the roof, he developed an arrhythmia and most likely pneumonia. He's had his lung drained of fluid and several panic attacks because he simply can't breathe. He's been on and off oxygen treatments for days, constantly dancing around the edge of ventilator territory -- improving a little but not quite enough, remaining solidly in the high-level cardiac care unit, which we keep telling him is actually a million-dollar spa getaway when the nurse comes to thump away on his back. I'm sure his insurance company would find us HYSTERICAL. On the other end of the whining spectrum, I woke up on Sunday with another cold. Meaning I could do nothing more for my dad than miserably wave at him from the doorway while covering my mouth and nose, and could do nothing more for my mom than drape myself over the chairs in the waiting room and pretend that I was still awake. My body just plumb gave out, so I came home. And yet... Read more →

All That Your Heart Can Take

On Friday, we got the results of my father's heart catheterization, which mostly confirmed what we already knew: there's a very bad blockage in there, a blockage has likely been there for awhile and likely caused his fall last summer and is definitely causing all of his current bouts of dizziness and breathlessness that have essentially kept him housebound for months now. Angioplasty or a stent or medication will not help. Bypass surgery is absolutely not an option because of his age and health and Quality of life, enjoy what you have, and all that. On Saturday, my mom called 911 after the third nitroglycerin failed to halt my dad's symptoms and he was admitted to the hospital. Today, they're meeting with the heart surgeon about the bypass surgery. My dad is resisting, and I can't blame him for that. For two years, they've told us the surgery could kill him. In two days, we've simply run out of other options. I'm loading up babies and pets and an indefinite number of days' worth of underwear. I never really know what I actually can DO when I rush up to visit at the first sign of a crisis, but... Read more →

As a Very Important "Beauty Insider" member at Sephora (translation: HA HA, WE GOT YOU TO SIGN UP FOR A CARD JUST FOR FREE SAMPLES, SUCKER), I am apparently entitled to a birthday gift every year. Provided I make a purchase during my birthday month. And remember to present that stupid card. Anyway, my gift was a small bottle of shower gel. It's glittery and sparkly and smells like cupcakes. Thanks, Sephora! How did you know I was turning 12 this year? My mom says I can wear the tinted kind of Chapstick now too! (I guess I should be grateful that they DON'T customize the birthday gift too much, since if they were to base it off my recent purchases I'd probably get an anti-wrinkle cream that smells like lemon verbena. And desperation.) (Oh, and I'm 31 now. Everyone kept telling me that 31 would hit me harder than 30, but it didn't. I guess there's something about having TWO CHILDREN that makes you already feel older than dirt, what with how terriblly haggard you look next to their chubby smooth perfection [seriously, if you ever want to feel REALLY BADLY about yourself, press your face against an infant's... Read more →

I have taken approximately 3,923,001 pictures of that child over the past three years, and I have NEVER once seen him make that face. I'm so glad I got to pay $16.99 for this once-in-a-lifetime expression of Complete & Utter Goober. (I do like how Ezra's just trying to blend in, striking the patented T-Rex-can-only-see-you-if-you-move pose. Good work, son.) Happy Holidays. We're off to introduce the new man to the family and eat a lot of pie. Read more →