The List

This year I:
Became a mother
Fell in love with my son
Moved to Oklahoma
Took on a challenging new job
Ran out of sick time
Bought a house that I love
Picked my own pumkin for the first time
Cut down my own Christmas Tree for the first time
Gained back all the weight I lost pre-baby

Next year I will:
Get back to a weight with a "1" as the first digit
Enjoy fewer Reeses Cups and more hot baths
Read more to my son
Be a better boss, employee, and wife
Earn the trust that has been placed in me
Make it home for Christmas
Use a babysitter to date my husband

Who asked you?

I guess the firt time one experiences a miscarriage, one runs right to the doctor. On number five, though? Meh. I know how it goes. It's cycle day 17, your beta is only a 12, you should get your period soon. Smell ya later. Been there, done that. So when I was fairly certain that I'd had (sigh) another miscarriage I decided to spare myself the indignity and ride it out solo.

Big mistake.

So, here I lay for the second night, in a randomly inflating and deflating hospital bed. Having been scanned in every hole imaginable, sucking up all the pain meds they'll give me while the IV antibiotics pour into my system. The doc that came to see me this morning was shocked I was concious, my white blood count was so high. He said things like "blah blah blah lose a tube" and "blah blah blah want more kids?" The general implication being, like reproductive health? Lay back and take advantage of the all-your-veins-can-pump IV bar and be glad you're not in surgery right now.

OK...so I know there's a crapton of stupidity here. First, what the hell was I doin getting pregnant now in the first place? I know! I know. Second, it's one thing to know your own body but that's no excuse to not get medical treatment. Ugh. I know. I have a habit of thinking I'm smarter than I am when it comes to medical stuff.

However, what in the world makes my friends and family members think that they should be telling me to get my tubes tied to "keep this from happening again". Does it matter to them that I'm not done having children? No. They think this is too hard on me. Ok...then suggest I go on the pill...get a shot...get an IUD...but dude...burn out your own tubes. Leave mine alone.

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The More Things Change...
For my 3rd miscarriage, I had to have a D&C. I thought it was totally sick that I had to go to the labor and delivery area for my surgery. It really helped me though, when the sweet old nurse patted me on the shoulder on my way out the door and said, "We'll see you next year, sweetie."

Now, after #5, my hospital room is on the mother and baby/womens surgery/pediatric unit. Every time a baby is born, they play a snippet of a lullabye over the speaker. It makes me wonder if that music will ever play for me again. I just don't think I'm done. Maybe I'll be back next year.

Oh My Darlin

I'm from Florida, in general, and from a citrus famil, precisely. If I'm going to get all excited about a citrus fruit it had better be good, is what I'm saying. Until a few weeks ago I'd never even heard of a clementine. Where do they come from? Not Florida. Anyway, it seems like in the rest of the world they're a fall/winter treat that people actually look forward to.

I've seen stacks of them at the grocery store for a while now and just thought...eh...more citrus. Then one of the bloggers I like mentioned clementines on her twitter and I thought, what the hell.

What the hell? These things are amazing. Easy to peel, seedless, juicy but clean, and sweet as candy. I guess I'm officially not in Florida anymore.

Bank Error in Your Favor

Last week, Doombot went to Swanky Preschool looking to see if we wanted to spend an extra $300 a month to send Orion there. Sadly, it turns out that we do. Sadly in part because of the extra $300 part, but also because of what we were told was a two and a half year waiting list.

So, today, Swanky Preschool Director calls and tells us that the 3-yr-old teacher, Melissa Smith, knows us and they think they can find us a spot. We went up there, I took the tour that Doombot took on Friday and fell instantly in love with the place.

We didn't have the heart to tell them that we have no idea who the fuck Melissa
Smith is, but they're calling us tomorrow or Wednesday to let us know when they can get us in.
_________

Mother Fuckers did it again.

When we went to pick up Orion early from the current incarnation of Squirrel School. He was:

1. Laying awake in a crib (hey, that's illegal!)
2. With the teacher having her homework spread out on a table (if not illegal, it should be)
3. With a bottle in his crib with him (definitely illegal)
4. WITH NO MOTHERFUCKING RICE IN IT (I'm gonna kill a bitch)

Seriously, if I wasn't looking at new daycares, I would be now. Thank god Swanky Preschool has webcams in every room and I think I can trust the chef to add the fucking rice.

OK, I lied. It was easy.

So, here's how bed time worked a month ago. I make a bottle at 6:45 to be prepped for the coming meltdown. Sometime before 7:00 the festivities begin. Orion starts crying. I get him into his pj's and a fresh diaper, during which he cheers up a bit. I climb in to bed with him and give him the bottle. If he finishes the bottle while sleeping, I win. If he finishes the bottle before falling asleep, fail. If so, I begin to pat, sing, and otherwise cajole him to sleep. Once he falls asleep, I stay in bed with him FOREVER until he's asleep enough to move without waking up. The End.

Here's how bedtime goes now. At 5:50 he rubs his eyes. I go make a bottle, change him into his pj's and a fresh diaper. The whole family gathers for some tummy blowing time. I give him his bottle. He is still awake. I move him to bed. I hear him playing and babbling for about 10 minutes from my place in front of the TV in the living room. Sometime later, I notice it has stopped.

Dude. Ferber rocks. Now I just have to figure out how to not get up once or twice to feed him overnight.

___

Got a new stroller today, and boy am I proud of myself. Orion actually no longer fit in the one that came with his travel system. His shoulders were too wide...he's a hoss, y'all. I also wanted something more compact, so I had figured on the mid level Maclaren umbrella thingy. This was $189, but I had a coupon. But get this! Instead of going to the store and managing to upsell myself, I actually picked out a cheaper stroller! I know! I was not a brand whore. I did not insist that more expensive must be better. This is totally the 2nd time this has happened. Last time was the car seat. Turns out, sometimes I like the less expensive stuff better. Will wonders never cease.

Easy? My Ass!

Ok. So, Ferber. Here's the scoop on Ferber.

It works. Honest to jeebus, it does. What it also does is makes your kid scream enough to take that dribbly nose and turn it into a full blown coughing, sneezing, hoarse-croaking cold. I don't know if the timing was just coincidental or if its a cause and effect thing but I started Ferber with a relatively healthy (if day-care-plague-oozing) kid and stopped after two days with Typhoid Squirrel. Now the whole house is sick. He's given Doombot the Pink Eye, and I'm sharing his cold. Bad news all around.

So, last night we were back to the "No Cry" approach. He was so grateful he slept 8.5 hours in a row (in his room!)(after I moved the sleeping heap of baby across the house without waking him up or stepping on a cat). Then he celebrated his 8.5 hours of sleep with half a meal and zonked back out for 4 more hours.

Maybe Ferber worked for us after all.