Yesterday Steve felt the baby move! We had to kinda squash the baby into one half of my stomach and then wait, but pretty soon the baby protested and did a big somersault tryihg to move around more! So funny!
Then today I got the doppler in the mail and used it right away! I heard the baby's heartbeat! I called everyone so they could hear, too! Then when Steve got home, we used the doppler again and found the heartbeat but the baby was awake and moving around and I had to chase him around! The baby kept kicking the wand part and it would make a "bloop" noise, and the heartbeat would fade, and the chase was on to find it again! It stayed steady between 150 and 160 BPM, both times.
This afternoon, I took the doppler outside and with a little glob of goo, I let all the neighborhood kids listen to their own hearts and they were amazed.
I have a routine OB appointment on Thursday. My big ultrasound where we will hopefully find out the gender is later this month. Whee!
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Here are the animals!
Here is Baby Bird, who does not like me taking pictures of her with my cell phone. She would barely stay still for me! And underneath is Max. It is hot here now. So hot, in fact, that Max cannot sleep curled in a ball any more. He usually sleeps in a ball, under covers because he has no fat on him to keep warm. See him? He can't even let his legs touch his belly or he will give a new meaning to the term "weenie roast."
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
A ramble about today
So, today Jonathan had an appointment with a pediatric psychiatrist to confirm his diagnosis of Asperger's, and she did! Talk about a weight off my shoulders! For so long, I have known he was different, and I always thought it was something that I did to screw him up. I thought I did something wrong, or raised him wrong, and made him act the way he does, resistant to change, keeping strict routines, awkward in social situations, and so on. I thought I was a bad mom. This confirmation of an AS diagnosis is a relief to me.
That was our morning. We came home, and it seemed silly to send him back to school for a few hours in the afternoon. Steve went back to work and we just sat around the house. After school we played outside with the neighbors, which included a water fight for the kids. I had my camera with me but did I take any pictures? No. Duh, me!
Dinner was shake & bake extra crispy chicken, stuffing and corn, with brownies for dessert. Jonathan picked them out at the store today and Katie helped me make them. We did homework & the kids took showers, and off to bed they went. I made some cards, which is my new thing. it is fun to handmake pretty cards using decorative papers and rubber stamps.
Steve came home, and it is trash day tomorrow so we put out the trash and recycling. He is asleep now, and I want to be, but I am restless, and also I have to get up and use the bathroom about six times a night, so I don't get much sleep. So I am sitting here typing and I felt the baby move again, twice in a row this time! Hello baby! He or she does not like me sitting up like this (cross legged) and so he or she protests. It was the same last week.
What else? Katie has a field trip tomorrow and I picked two ticks off the dog! Woo!
OK I am going to sleep now. Night, y'all.
That was our morning. We came home, and it seemed silly to send him back to school for a few hours in the afternoon. Steve went back to work and we just sat around the house. After school we played outside with the neighbors, which included a water fight for the kids. I had my camera with me but did I take any pictures? No. Duh, me!
Dinner was shake & bake extra crispy chicken, stuffing and corn, with brownies for dessert. Jonathan picked them out at the store today and Katie helped me make them. We did homework & the kids took showers, and off to bed they went. I made some cards, which is my new thing. it is fun to handmake pretty cards using decorative papers and rubber stamps.
Steve came home, and it is trash day tomorrow so we put out the trash and recycling. He is asleep now, and I want to be, but I am restless, and also I have to get up and use the bathroom about six times a night, so I don't get much sleep. So I am sitting here typing and I felt the baby move again, twice in a row this time! Hello baby! He or she does not like me sitting up like this (cross legged) and so he or she protests. It was the same last week.
What else? Katie has a field trip tomorrow and I picked two ticks off the dog! Woo!
OK I am going to sleep now. Night, y'all.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
How do you talk to G-d?
OK I was just visiting one of the many message boards that I frequent, and a lady's cousin had been stabbed. She was asking for prayers, so I posted some support, and then sat back, closed my eyes and prayed for her poor cousin. Sounds normal right?
Except I was talking to G-d like He was right there in the room, sitting in my big blue chair. I asked for G-d to be there for her & her family, and to help the cousin heal, and then I just went off, asking what the hell was wrong with people? Why do they want to hurt each other like that? Then I remembered I was talking to G-d, hello??? And I felt like a huge dork.
If G-d knows my thoughts, feelings, and innermost corners of my heart then do I censor it? Or does that make Him laugh because He knows what I really feel like saying?
I talk to Him a lot, like when another board friend had a car wreck. No one was hurt much, but I knew how much accidents can strain a budget. So I expressed thanks that the FBG family was mostly unhurt, and prayed for their finances to be ok.
Is it weird that I pray for people I don't know? Mysterious internet people, most of whose name I don't know? I pray by their username, because G-d knows who I am talking about, even if I don't use their given name.
I have prayed for countless women over the years, through pregnancies, (and sometimes losses) and when I know they are laboring. I was so relieved when Michelle's cousin Rachel had her baby after a long, drawn-out labor. I was ecstatic to see Paisley announce she had her baby too. It was a long weekend of anxious waiting. She was to be induced and was afraid. Every time I logged on and didn't see a post by her, I prayed for her, for a calm heart, a good delivery and a healthy baby.
The words come easy when it is about others, but when I try to tell G-d how thankful I am for this little life I have inside me, words fail me. "Thank you" seems inadequate, somehow. My heart swells and I lose speech. I am sure that comes as a shock, LOL. This is when I am glad that G-d knows my thoughts. (Side note: I am 14 weeks, 1 day today. I have a regular appointment tomorrow, after which I will post an update. And I think I felt the baby move yesterday, a brief litle swish which delighted me to no end!)
I pray for my husband daily, in a rambling fashion. Personal safety driving during his commute, good job performance, patience for him because of the noodleheads he works with, his health, and so on. I pray for my kids too, or their healthy and safety, and that they behave at school, and try their best on their assignements. Jonathan has a test today. He studied well and we will see how he does.
Is it weird that I pray for my dog? I love my Max. Plus he got a tick yesterday and I don't want him to get doggie Lyme disease. Yeah, I'm a nut.
Adding to the nuttiness is the fact that I pray for people I don't talk to anymore. It is not that we have simply lost touch, these are people that I have told to lose my email address! So why do I still care about these people? I guess that I still care because I did care, when we were friends. They are not bad people, they didn't murder anyone. We just sorta "broke up." And I am naturally curious.
So I still think of A. who stole money from me in high school, (and recently contacted me?!?) and also S. who stole my vaccuum, and N. who is ran away from her responsibilities and doesn't want to grow up and doesn't understand why I don't agree with her choices, and H. who got too big for her britches and I could not stand her uppity attitude any more, and another A. We were close while our husbands were deployed, and she was pregnant at the time. We had a falling out and I moved across the country. But still, I prayed for a safe delivery for her and was delighted when she added two beautiful babies to her family.
Sigh.
So this started out as a question, kinda. Am I being sacreligious or disrespectful in the manner that I pray? Then it turned into a ramble. Oh well, it has been a while since I updated. That's about it.
Except I was talking to G-d like He was right there in the room, sitting in my big blue chair. I asked for G-d to be there for her & her family, and to help the cousin heal, and then I just went off, asking what the hell was wrong with people? Why do they want to hurt each other like that? Then I remembered I was talking to G-d, hello??? And I felt like a huge dork.
If G-d knows my thoughts, feelings, and innermost corners of my heart then do I censor it? Or does that make Him laugh because He knows what I really feel like saying?
I talk to Him a lot, like when another board friend had a car wreck. No one was hurt much, but I knew how much accidents can strain a budget. So I expressed thanks that the FBG family was mostly unhurt, and prayed for their finances to be ok.
Is it weird that I pray for people I don't know? Mysterious internet people, most of whose name I don't know? I pray by their username, because G-d knows who I am talking about, even if I don't use their given name.
I have prayed for countless women over the years, through pregnancies, (and sometimes losses) and when I know they are laboring. I was so relieved when Michelle's cousin Rachel had her baby after a long, drawn-out labor. I was ecstatic to see Paisley announce she had her baby too. It was a long weekend of anxious waiting. She was to be induced and was afraid. Every time I logged on and didn't see a post by her, I prayed for her, for a calm heart, a good delivery and a healthy baby.
The words come easy when it is about others, but when I try to tell G-d how thankful I am for this little life I have inside me, words fail me. "Thank you" seems inadequate, somehow. My heart swells and I lose speech. I am sure that comes as a shock, LOL. This is when I am glad that G-d knows my thoughts. (Side note: I am 14 weeks, 1 day today. I have a regular appointment tomorrow, after which I will post an update. And I think I felt the baby move yesterday, a brief litle swish which delighted me to no end!)
I pray for my husband daily, in a rambling fashion. Personal safety driving during his commute, good job performance, patience for him because of the noodleheads he works with, his health, and so on. I pray for my kids too, or their healthy and safety, and that they behave at school, and try their best on their assignements. Jonathan has a test today. He studied well and we will see how he does.
Is it weird that I pray for my dog? I love my Max. Plus he got a tick yesterday and I don't want him to get doggie Lyme disease. Yeah, I'm a nut.
Adding to the nuttiness is the fact that I pray for people I don't talk to anymore. It is not that we have simply lost touch, these are people that I have told to lose my email address! So why do I still care about these people? I guess that I still care because I did care, when we were friends. They are not bad people, they didn't murder anyone. We just sorta "broke up." And I am naturally curious.
So I still think of A. who stole money from me in high school, (and recently contacted me?!?) and also S. who stole my vaccuum, and N. who is ran away from her responsibilities and doesn't want to grow up and doesn't understand why I don't agree with her choices, and H. who got too big for her britches and I could not stand her uppity attitude any more, and another A. We were close while our husbands were deployed, and she was pregnant at the time. We had a falling out and I moved across the country. But still, I prayed for a safe delivery for her and was delighted when she added two beautiful babies to her family.
Sigh.
So this started out as a question, kinda. Am I being sacreligious or disrespectful in the manner that I pray? Then it turned into a ramble. Oh well, it has been a while since I updated. That's about it.
Friday, April 27, 2007
The baby is standing on its head!
We had some spotting, and went to the doctor for reassurance. They tried to listen for the heartbeat but couldn't hear it, so we had another ultrasound. The baby is fine, is 5.5 cm/2 1/4 inches from crown to rump, and weighs a few ounces. He or she is also standing on their head! I took a picture of the u/s with my cell phone, but I took it upside down for easier viewing. Here is the baby at 12 weeks and three days, looking much more human that before! I also had some precautionary RhoGam. I stop the progesterone when I hit 13 weeks (next Tuesday) and the spotting should stop then. All appears well! Yay for a healthy baby!
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Just checking in
So last night I had a taste of irrationality. I have had small instances of going from zero to hugely irritated where I can barely speak, but only a few times so far this pregnancy. But last night, holy hormones, Batman.
I am still using my progesterone, and it comes with prefilled applicators and you have to snap off the top and then use it. Well lately when I snap the top off, the progesterone has been oozing out, which irritate me because it means less meds are getting where they needs to go. For the past two nights, it has been shooting out! As in flying across the room and splatting places. Just to irk my nerves. I am not squeezing the tube or anything so I have no idea why it is doing this.
So that was on my nerves, and I get into bed and stare at the TV for a bit before going to sleep and within 30 minutes, I am hungry. I am talking severe hunger pangs, and I wanted to cry. I knew it was no time to eat, and I should go to sleep and my stomach hurt *that* bad. I considered getting some of my beloved frozen fruit, (Schwan's golden fruit blend is SO yummy!)when, to my dismay I remembered that I polished it off as an afternoon snack. The tears flowed.
I fell asleep and had bad dreams of being hungry. Woke up to pee about 4 times. Was nauseated this morning and was pronounced "pitiful" by Steve. I am 12+1 today. Am I not out of my first trimester until I am 13 weeks? Is that when it will get better? We'll see.
Also, as a public service announcement, Dole frozen dark sweet cherries are SO good, whether you have Schwan's frozen fruit in your freezer or not. I can still wear my jeans fine, so that is good. And being sick with Rotavirus and just plain nausea, I have lost three pounds. I'm not trying to lose weight--I graze all day. I will keep you posted!
I am still using my progesterone, and it comes with prefilled applicators and you have to snap off the top and then use it. Well lately when I snap the top off, the progesterone has been oozing out, which irritate me because it means less meds are getting where they needs to go. For the past two nights, it has been shooting out! As in flying across the room and splatting places. Just to irk my nerves. I am not squeezing the tube or anything so I have no idea why it is doing this.
So that was on my nerves, and I get into bed and stare at the TV for a bit before going to sleep and within 30 minutes, I am hungry. I am talking severe hunger pangs, and I wanted to cry. I knew it was no time to eat, and I should go to sleep and my stomach hurt *that* bad. I considered getting some of my beloved frozen fruit, (Schwan's golden fruit blend is SO yummy!)when, to my dismay I remembered that I polished it off as an afternoon snack. The tears flowed.
I fell asleep and had bad dreams of being hungry. Woke up to pee about 4 times. Was nauseated this morning and was pronounced "pitiful" by Steve. I am 12+1 today. Am I not out of my first trimester until I am 13 weeks? Is that when it will get better? We'll see.
Also, as a public service announcement, Dole frozen dark sweet cherries are SO good, whether you have Schwan's frozen fruit in your freezer or not. I can still wear my jeans fine, so that is good. And being sick with Rotavirus and just plain nausea, I have lost three pounds. I'm not trying to lose weight--I graze all day. I will keep you posted!
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Say cheese!
So we went to the inlaws this past weekend and got to see the babies! They are about 7 1/2 months old now, full of personality and happy as clams! From the top: MIL holds baby MacKenzie as she grins hugely at Katie. Then, Steve gets big giggles from Alyssa. On the bottom, Alyssa shows her new interest--her toes!
Second trio of pics: Jonathan says cheese! Second, the older girls hold the the younger girls, and on the bottom, Katie holds Alyssa.
The bottom trio of pics is a few snapshots from Easter--dyeing eggs, right after the egg hunt, and then Katie dressing up Max in his sailor suit. Poor dog!
So that's about it for us. Oh yeah--I am 12 weeks today! Woohoo!
Monday, April 02, 2007
Hello, baby!
So we went to the doctor, me, Steve and the kids. All 3 of them, LOL. That's right, we are having another baby! We had an ultrasound this evening, and we planned on telling the kids by showing them the ultrasound. So the tech takes me in, and is very nice, and checks--there's the baby with a nice, fast HB of 172 BPM. I have to look online to see if that means boy or girl? I was just in a hurry to get this posted to look first.
Steve brought the kids in after I was already stirruped & draped, and we asked if they knew what it was on the screen? Katie asked if it was a baby, and if so, could she take the pictures to school tomorrow? She's a nut.
Jonathan's eyes got wide and he said, "You have a baby inside you?" They haven't asked yet how the baby got in there. *wipes sweat from brow in relief*
The tech showed them the baby and the heart beating, and printed us out some pictures, and off we went to Friendly's for some celebratory ice cream.
The kids gave us naming suggestions. Katie advised me to go to the baby aisle at the store, as well as "the fat person aisle, where Mommies with babies in their bellies buy clothes."
Cue peals of laughter, and then me explaining to her that she means to say "maternity section."
Jonathan asked how the baby knew it was ready to get out? He asked if the baby kickd me in the side and said it was ready? I showed them the pictures again and pointed out the sac, and said it was like a water balloon and it would pop. That amused both kids greatly.
So here are the pictures. They are small, click and they should get a little bigger. They are a little fuzzy, a little grainy, and with white strips of paper haphazardly torn to cover my name for some anonymity. Who needs scissors anyway? The baby appears to have a giant head, and it is on the bottom right of each picture. The torso & legs, which you cannot really make out, are towards the left. The tech says my due date of 8 Nov has been confirmed, and all looks well! Yay for a nice tech!
Thursday, March 22, 2007
A mini vacation in Philly!
Tomorrow morning I am leaving here and meeting my friend Kathy on the MassPike and we are driving to Philadelphia. We are going to play tourist, go shopping, and meet up with Netanya like when we went to NY last year. Plus we are going to meet Sharon this time! Sharon is bringing her grown daughter, and Netanya is bringing her cousin, and plus since Miss Poppy lives so close to Philly, we can meet up with her too!
I will be coming back on Sunday and be readyto get back into the swing of things, refreshed from my *mommy vacation.* Woohoo!
I will post pics as soon as I get them developed, of course!
I will be coming back on Sunday and be readyto get back into the swing of things, refreshed from my *mommy vacation.* Woohoo!
I will post pics as soon as I get them developed, of course!
Saturday, March 17, 2007
A foot of snow on St. Patrick's Day, and some illness.
So the weather report called for an inch of snow Thursday night, and between one and three Friday, with between six and ten inches overnight. That later changed to 10 to 15 inches overnight.
We got at least a foot of snow dumped on us, but it is hard to get an accurate measure because the winds made the powdery snow drift. We had to shovel to get out the door, just so poor Max could go potty. But we had a foot of standing snow on the driveway.
What else do we have? A vomiting child. Katie woke up early Thusday morning, threw up all over, and then promptly stopped all mess-making by 8 AM. She was a little less active than she normally is, but had no fever.
Repeat this scenario Friday morning, except add in normal active behavior, still no fever, and an increased appetite. We have been giving her 10ccs of liquid every 1o minutes (plus water & ginger ale to drink freely in addition to the minimum 1occs) as long as she is awake to combat dehydration. You all know how it is with a virus--it has to come out the other end, and it does so in liquid form.
I am in no mood to try to navigate poorly-plowed, snowy mountain roads to bring my baby girl to an ER.
Well today she woke up fine, had a normal appetite, and seemed to suffer no ill effects. We breathed easier. Then right before 2 PM, she exploded all over my kitchen floor. Tell me she could not have gone two steps to the right and aimed for the kitchen sink? Nooooooooooooo.
So we have been back on the 10ccs every 10 minutes routine for the past 3 1/2 hours. Still no fever. But she did manage to share her bug with me and her dad. Me yesterday, her dad today. I am still feeling a little lousy, but am on the mend. Steve, who is just pitiful when he is sick, should hopefully feel better by tomorrow. As for Katie, who knows???
We were supposed to go to the commissary, but that involves a 4 hour round trip in the car. Katie's illness nixed that. So I said ok, we will go to a local store and pay higher prices, but no, the snow nixed that for today.
If the roads are more driveable, we might go to a local store tomorrow. Steve will drive since I am not used to snow driving and it is supposed to snow in small showers today / tonight / tomorrow. So our store trip tomorrow depends on Katie's tummy. Get better, Katie's tummy!
She is unpredictable, though. So if we go, I will push one of those huge carts that seats two kids in front, and put her in there with a barf can lined with a bag. And I will carry spare bags, and wipes and bottles of water in my purse. She could pull what she did today, and be fine, and then explode all over with no warning. No way am I making a biohazard in aisle 6.
That's about it, I guess. Jonathan is still robust, thank goodness, and max is unimpressed with this powdery snow that is higher than he is. He sinks right down in it. Steve, being a nice daddy, cleared him a patch of grass to potty on.
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
We got at least a foot of snow dumped on us, but it is hard to get an accurate measure because the winds made the powdery snow drift. We had to shovel to get out the door, just so poor Max could go potty. But we had a foot of standing snow on the driveway.
What else do we have? A vomiting child. Katie woke up early Thusday morning, threw up all over, and then promptly stopped all mess-making by 8 AM. She was a little less active than she normally is, but had no fever.
Repeat this scenario Friday morning, except add in normal active behavior, still no fever, and an increased appetite. We have been giving her 10ccs of liquid every 1o minutes (plus water & ginger ale to drink freely in addition to the minimum 1occs) as long as she is awake to combat dehydration. You all know how it is with a virus--it has to come out the other end, and it does so in liquid form.
I am in no mood to try to navigate poorly-plowed, snowy mountain roads to bring my baby girl to an ER.
Well today she woke up fine, had a normal appetite, and seemed to suffer no ill effects. We breathed easier. Then right before 2 PM, she exploded all over my kitchen floor. Tell me she could not have gone two steps to the right and aimed for the kitchen sink? Nooooooooooooo.
So we have been back on the 10ccs every 10 minutes routine for the past 3 1/2 hours. Still no fever. But she did manage to share her bug with me and her dad. Me yesterday, her dad today. I am still feeling a little lousy, but am on the mend. Steve, who is just pitiful when he is sick, should hopefully feel better by tomorrow. As for Katie, who knows???
We were supposed to go to the commissary, but that involves a 4 hour round trip in the car. Katie's illness nixed that. So I said ok, we will go to a local store and pay higher prices, but no, the snow nixed that for today.
If the roads are more driveable, we might go to a local store tomorrow. Steve will drive since I am not used to snow driving and it is supposed to snow in small showers today / tonight / tomorrow. So our store trip tomorrow depends on Katie's tummy. Get better, Katie's tummy!
She is unpredictable, though. So if we go, I will push one of those huge carts that seats two kids in front, and put her in there with a barf can lined with a bag. And I will carry spare bags, and wipes and bottles of water in my purse. She could pull what she did today, and be fine, and then explode all over with no warning. No way am I making a biohazard in aisle 6.
That's about it, I guess. Jonathan is still robust, thank goodness, and max is unimpressed with this powdery snow that is higher than he is. He sinks right down in it. Steve, being a nice daddy, cleared him a patch of grass to potty on.
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Just another day
I couldn't sleep much past the third alarm that we had set, so I got up. Steve stayed in bed, whacking the various snooze buttons. I decided to make apple streusel muffins. Not from scratch or anything. Just a boxed mix, but they were a pain to make so I am glad I got up when I did. Otherwise we would not have been able to eat them for breakfast.
The kids meandered downstairs just after 7 AM. We bought them these alarm clocks that light up different colors as they buzz so the kids like them, and actually get up when they go off, so gone are the mornings where I spend 10 minutes yelling up the stairs for them to get up.
Right now I am just sitting down for a minute before I finish a few things. I tidied the living room but it needs vaccuuming. I'll do that next. Re-fluff the couch pillows and fold blankets, wipe down the coffee table. I have been cleaning and throwing stuff away, so now I need to take the trash out. And change the laundry over.
I already washed the few breakfast dishes and wiped down the counters and stove top. After I finish the living room I have to make sure my bathroom is guest-ready, a la Flylady. I didn't make my bed yet, so I guess I will do that. Do some dusting, light a few candles, then sit back down for a few minutes and plan what other little tasks to do. I will do a little crochet work on a blanket then as well.
It's just another day, with the kids off to school and Steve off to work. My days right now are pretty free, where I can clean a little, and do one of my hobbies a little, and rotate these things all day long. Like clean the kitchen, then do some cross-stitch, then clear off the dining area that has become a catch-all, then go scrapbook for a little while. Stuff like that.
I realized last night that it had been about three weeks since my last blog entry so I thought I would post something, even if it is just about an ordinary morning.
The kids meandered downstairs just after 7 AM. We bought them these alarm clocks that light up different colors as they buzz so the kids like them, and actually get up when they go off, so gone are the mornings where I spend 10 minutes yelling up the stairs for them to get up.
Right now I am just sitting down for a minute before I finish a few things. I tidied the living room but it needs vaccuuming. I'll do that next. Re-fluff the couch pillows and fold blankets, wipe down the coffee table. I have been cleaning and throwing stuff away, so now I need to take the trash out. And change the laundry over.
I already washed the few breakfast dishes and wiped down the counters and stove top. After I finish the living room I have to make sure my bathroom is guest-ready, a la Flylady. I didn't make my bed yet, so I guess I will do that. Do some dusting, light a few candles, then sit back down for a few minutes and plan what other little tasks to do. I will do a little crochet work on a blanket then as well.
It's just another day, with the kids off to school and Steve off to work. My days right now are pretty free, where I can clean a little, and do one of my hobbies a little, and rotate these things all day long. Like clean the kitchen, then do some cross-stitch, then clear off the dining area that has become a catch-all, then go scrapbook for a little while. Stuff like that.
I realized last night that it had been about three weeks since my last blog entry so I thought I would post something, even if it is just about an ordinary morning.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Snow!
I love snow! Finally we are getting some significant snow! Here's a pic or two. The top one is the view from the road, looking at my house and the bottom one is a close-up shot. Yay for snow!
Happy Valentine's Day, y'all.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Clomid is fun!
Here I am. This pic was taken this week. See, Momma? I'm smiling.
It's been a while since my last update. What's new? We got barstools for our bar. I love them. They are cherrywood and square topped for more butt support. The kids love to sit at the bar for meals or homework.
It snowed Friday night, and the snow has stuck around. The temps are too cold for it to melt, but it is also so cold with horrible winds and freezing wind chill that we can't go outside and make a snowman. Max the poor weenie dog looks at us like we are nuts when we take him out, like, "You expect me to go outside??" We scraped some snow off the grass so he can have a patch of grass to pee on. Little picky dog.
Steve stopped smoking, which was a pleasant surprise to me, and he is doing good so far. No crabbiness, just a little tense. Poor Steve.
Jonathan and Katie are doing well in school but are not too fond of winter because it means afternoons are spent cooped up indoors to avoid frostbite. I am not too fond of it either, because I want to build a snowman!
As for me, well I started Clomid. Finished my first round of it today, actually. And good lord, the side effects! I am nauseated, my ovaries cramp, I get mild hot flashes and I get very dizzy and the mood swings are a wonder to behold.
Case in point: Jenn is unloading the dishwasher, and lining up the cups on a strip of countertop rather than put the dishes directly into the cabinet from the dishwasher. I always do it this way so I am not running back and forth, making 20 trips to put things away. I consolidate first. Anyway, Steve came up and asked me why I was doing it that way.
In the time it took me to pivot around and fix him with a steely-eyed glare, a raging she-beast had emerged from inside me, shrieking like a harpy, "What? You are criticizing the way I unload the dishwasher? Are you gonna SCHOOL me now?"
This was not yelled. Or hollered. Or shouted. This was *bellowed* to Steve's hastily retreating form. All the while there was a still, small part of me who knew that I was acting like a nutbag and he just asked a simple question. But the rational part of me was overruled. No way did I have control of my mouth.
Hopefully the Clomid will help me make a robust, healthy egg and I can have my 3rd and be done. I will keep you all posted when testing time draws near.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
A probable diagnosis
Jonathan has a probable diagnosis of Asperger's. His pediatrician thinks he has it (and we agree)and he has been referred to a pediatric psychiatrist for a confirmation of the diagnosis. Our neighbor has an Autistic son, and his therapist is an Autism Spectrum specialist, and she was observing Jonathan one time (and based on his speech, language, body movements, etc) asked if he had been diagnosed with it yet? Because he has a lot of the characteristics.
It was eye-opening, and a relief at the same time because this lady is a specialist, and his pediatrician is a doctor, so if they think that he has this, then he probably does, and yay, he's not a weird kid, that this is his normal.
All of you have known me and my family at different times in my children's lives, and have seen Jonathan at different times. Who remembers him playing with his hands? All of you. And making the little noises? Being in one's personal space? Talking "at" you with no give and take in a conversation? Memorization and recitation of any topic that interested him--dinosaurs, Harry Potter, Legos/Bionicle, Pokemon, New England Patriots.
Who remembers how he had to have everything explained to him, a lot? His love of routine? And the meltdowns, oh, the meltdowns. I have come to find out that this is just him responding/reacting to change/stress. Who remembers his speech or vocabulary? He has a huge vocabulary and his speech has always been formal, using more adult words than kid-speak. He is very matter-of-fact.
And there is so much more to him. I am going to post a copy of an article that I found as an explanation to grandparents. But it is written in plain language and answers a lot of questions, so I wanted to post it here so you all could get more info on Asperger's. His appointment isn't until May--apparently pediatric psychiatrists are hard to come by and there is always a waiting list. I will keep you all posted. We are looking at this as a positive step--get him dxed and then we canlearn more how to work with his differences. A lot of things we have learned already, just living with him and avoiding triggering a meltdown. But we don't see this as a bad thing or a shameful thing. We don't need pity, y'all. I just wanted to keep you up to date on what is going on.--Jenn
**********************************************************************************
Especially for Grandparents of Children With Asperger Syndrome
By Nancy Mucklow
If your grandchild has been newly diagnosed, then welcome to the world of Asperger Syndrome. It is a mysterious and sometimes overwhelming world, but it is not one to be afraid of. Even if you are saddened, disappointed or angry about the diagnosis, keep in mind that it’s for the best. The earlier the diagnosis, the earlier the intervention, and the better the prognosis in the long run.
For some grandparents, the news seems to come right out of the blue. Sure, there were difficulties at school - but then, school isn’t as strict as it used to be. And yes, there were some problems at home, but none of them sounded like anything that “good old-fashioned discipline” couldn’t solve. Why, then, do the parents seem to be clinging to this diagnosis as if it were a life-raft in the high seas? And why are counsellors, psychologists, occupational therapists and special education teachers suddenly getting involved?
Is this child really so different?
As grandparents, you have a lot of questions to sort out. But along with the confusion comes an opportunity to get involved where you are really needed. Children with Asperger Syndrome have a special need in their lives for ‘safe’ people who won’t criticize them or put them down for their differences. They need loving, non-judgmental grandparents who accept them as they are and make a place for them in their lives. If you can reach out to them, they will treasure your relationship with them for the rest of their lives.
I’ve read articles about Asperger Syndrome. But I still don’t understand what it is.
Asperger Syndrome is a type of autism, and autism is a neurological disorder that affects the way a person interacts with others and his or her world. It’s not a mental illness, and it is not caused by weak parenting. In its more severe forms, it’s a disorder because it causes disorder in the life of the child. In its milder forms, it is more of a marked difference from the norm. In our culture, which judges people on the way they interact with others, these disorder-differences can have a profound impact on a person’s life.
You’ve probably heard the parents complaining about the difficulties they’ve had with the child in the home - obsessive behavior, irrational outbursts, wild fears, and irritability over the smallest issues. These problems are not misbehaviors, but rather the child’s responses to an inability to comprehend what is going on around them and inside them. Some experts have called it a “mind blindness,” one that causes the person to stumble and bump into complex social situations that they can’t “see.”
Yet by effectively “blinding” the mind to certain aspects of daily life, Asperger Syndrome enables the child’s mind to focus in a way that most of us are incapable of. They feel their feelings more intensely, experience texture, temperature and taste more powerfully, and think their thoughts more single-mindedly. In many ways, this ability to focus is the great gift of Asperger Syndrome, and is the reason why a great number people with Asperger Syndrome have become gifted scientists, artists and musicians.
It is as if the Asperger brain is born speaking a different language. It can learn our language through careful instruction or self-instruction, but it will always retain its accent. While Asperger adults go on to successful careers and interesting lives, they will always be considered unusual people.
I’ve never heard of it before.
That’s not too surprising. Pediatricians don’t study it in medical school, teachers don’t learn about it in education college, and the mass media rarely covers it. Until the 1980s, the condition didn’t even have a name, even though Hans Asperger’s original work was done in the 1940s. It is only very recently that the condition has received much attention at all. However, as professionals are becoming more informed about the condition, they are discovering that there is a fair amount of Asperger Syndrome out there.
You may remember an “odd” child from your grade-school years - one that had no friends, who was always preoccupied with some obsessive interest that no one else cared about, who said the strangest things at the strangest times. Though the syndrome has only recently been named, these children have been living and growing up alongside other children for centuries. Some have become successful and happy as adults despite their undiagnosed problems, teaching themselves over time how to navigate around their deficits. Others have gone on to live lives of confusion and frustration, never understanding why the world didn’t make much sense to them.
With the recognition of Asperger Syndrome, we now can give a new generation of Asperger children a chance at the same kind of life that other children have.
Great. So how do we fix it?
We can’t fix it. Despite all the marvels of modern science, there are still some problems that can’t be cured. Nobody knows what causes Asperger Syndrome, though most scientists acknowledge a genetic factor. So the deficits your grandchild has can only be understood, minimized and worked around. They will require accommodating on everyone’s part. But in time, with proper programming, the child’s behavior and understanding of the world should improve.
Specialized therapies for autism disorders are available, but in most cases, the parents must bear the full cost. This can cause tremendous financial strain on the family. In addition, while most regions require specialized programming for Asperger children, these programs are rarely sufficient for the child’s needs. So the parents must fill in the gaps with their own home-made programming.
Drug therapies are also sometimes available in cases where extreme behavior needs to be controlled. But these drugs don’t treat the cause of Asperger Syndrome. So even if some of the symptoms can be relieved with drugs, the central problems still remain.
A lot of kids have these sorts of difficulties. It’s just a part of growing up, isn’t it? After all, he looks perfectly normal to me.
He is normal. And he has the capacity to grow up to become a wonderful, normal adult - especially now that he has been diagnosed and is receiving special training. But he is normal with a difference.
The deficits that comprise Asperger Syndrome are not always readily apparent, especially in milder cases. The child is usually of average intelligence or higher, yet lacks what are essentially instincts for other children. If your grandchild seems “perfectly normal” despite the diagnosis you’ve been told about, then he is probably working very hard to make sure he fits in - and it’s not as easy as it looks.
It is best to treat your grandchild for what he is - normal. But be prepared to take some advice from those closest to him regarding what is the best way to handle certain situations.
It may not look like much to you, but Asperger Syndrome is a cause for concern. It’s not at all the same thing as the sort of developmental delay that some children experience, and a professional trained in its diagnosis can determine the difference. Certainly misdiagnoses are possible. But in such cases, it’s always wiser to err on the side of caution. The wait-and-see method is risky when there is evidence suggesting a neurological problem.
So what if she doesn’t do what other kids do? She’s advanced for her age.
Unchildlike behavior doesn’t mean that a child is “too smart” for play-dough and playgrounds. Even if she is smart, she still needs to learn the skills of play, because play is how children learn - about things, about life, and about each other. Precociousness is cute and is sometimes a source of pride for grandparents, but it is also often an indication that there is an underlying problem that needs to be addressed - and the earlier the better.
If Asperger Syndrome is genetic, then does that mean we have it too?
You might, or you might not. Usually at least one of the parents has some Asperger qualities to their personality, and so it seems likely that the same might be true of the grandparent generation.
But before you get defensive, remember that Asperger Syndrome shouldn’t be regarded as a source of family shame. It’s a difference more than a disorder. And we know it takes all kinds of people to make the world go around. Many famous people are believed to have had Asperger Syndrome, including Albert Einstein, Thomas Jefferson, Anton Bruckner, and Andy Warhol. It seems a touch of autism often brings out genius.
And that’s not such a bad thing to have in the family!
What if I don’t believe the diagnosis?
That’s your privilege. But keep in mind that the child’s parents believe it. They live and work with the child daily and are in a unique position to notice the deficits. Because they care deeply about that child’s future, they aren’t concerned about the stigma of a label, as long as it means the child is eligible for the specialized programming she needs. They have put their pride aside for the sake of the child and expect the same from the rest of the family.
Consider carefully what could possibly be gained by refusing to believe the diagnosis. Then consider what could be lost. The parents are already living with a great deal more stress than other parents, and they don’t need the added strain of skeptical or judgmental grandparents. Otherwise you may suddenly be faced with the pain of being unwelcome in your grandchild’s home.
The child’s mother looks exhausted all the time. Could that be a cause?
It’s more likely an effect. Consider what her life is like: she has to constantly monitor what is going on regarding her Asperger child, thwart anything that might trigger a meltdown, predict the child’s reactions in all situations and respond immediately, look for opportunities to teach the child social behavior without creating a scene, and so on - every minute, every day. So it’s not surprising that she doesn’t feel like sitting down for a cup of tea with you and making small talk!
The truth is that the majority of mothers of Asperger children struggle with depression. While the special services she will receive over the next few years should help in some ways, she will still be the one to deal with the day-to-day difficulties of raising an unusual child. For many mothers, this means ceaseless work, often to the exclusion of their own needs. Their physical, mental and emotional exhaustion can have a profound effect on the health and happiness of the entire family.
For this reason, mothers of Asperger children need those closest to them to give their full, unconditional support, both in words and in action.
I’d like to help out and get involved. But my son and his wife always get defensive no matter what I say.
Your son and daughter-in-law are now so used to defending their child that it comes as second nature. Give them some time. Once they are more certain of your support, they will be less sensitive.
In the meantime, think carefully before you speak. Choose expressions that suggest sympathy and genuine curiosity, and avoid those that convey criticism. For example, instead of saying ‘He looks perfectly normal to me’, you can say ‘He’s doing really well.’ Phrase ideas as questions, not judgments by saying ‘Have you thought about…’ rather than ‘It’s probably…’.
The most destructive things you can say are those that convey your lack of trust in their ability to parent, your disdain for the diagnosis, and your unwillingness to make accommodations. Here are some real-life examples gathered from mothers of Asperger children:
‘Just let him spend more time with us. We’ll whip him into shape!’ ‘She may act that way at home, but she’s not going to do that in MY house!’‘He wouldn’t act this way if you didn’t work.’‘I managed all by myself with four kids. You’ve just got two, and you can’t handle them!’‘Don’t believe everything those psychologists tell you. He’ll just grow out of it, wait and see!’‘There’s nothing wrong with her. You’re making a mountain out of a molehill. Are you sure you’re not the one that needs to see a psychologist?’‘He’s having all these problems because you took him out of school for that home-schooling nonsense.’‘Everybody’s got to have a problem with a fancy name these days!’‘All you ever do is complain about how hard your life is.’
Ouch!
Keep in mind that parents of Asperger children face these hurtful, humiliating attitudes every day - from bus drivers to teachers, doctors to neighbors. Their tolerance level for such opinionated criticism is low, especially since they spend every bit of their energy raising their difficult child. So avoid insensitive comments at all costs. And if you unwittingly blurt out something the wrong way, be sure to apologize.
So then what can I do for them?
Look for ways to be supportive. Let them know that there is another heart tugging at the load - and it’s yours. Keep on the lookout for articles about Asperger Syndrome and send them copies. This shows that you are interested. Ask lots of questions about the special programs the child is in. Be enthusiastic and optimistic. Let them know you think they’re doing a great job. At other times, be a sympathetic sounding board when they have difficult decisions to make, or when they just need to tell someone what an awful day they’ve had.
If you live close by, consider how much you can help by giving the parents an evening out. If you’re not certain how to handle the child on your own, then spend some time shadowing the parents to learn how to do it - or offer to babysit after the child is in bed. Whatever you can do to help will be appreciated.
What does my grandchild need from me?
He needs to know that you are a safe haven in a bewildering world. It may seem a lot to ask to be flexible with a child who appears to be misbehaving, but inflexibility will only put distance between you and the child. If the child’s manners and mannerisms drive you crazy, ask the parents for suggestions on how to set expectations for your house.
Learn to listen to the child when he says he doesn’t want to do something. Maybe some children are happy to spend a couple of hours at a flea market, but think very carefully before dragging an Asperger child there. Accommodate to his needs, or you run the risk of ruining your time together.
When in doubt, ask the parents for advice.
But in general, just make the decision now that you will spend your time enjoying the child for
what he is - a unique and unusual person. That annoying stubborn streak you see in him is going to be his greatest survival skill. And even though he seems to be afraid of just about anything, recognize that he is like a blind person - it takes tremendous courage for him just to walk through each day. Celebrate his courage and tenacity.
To tell the truth, I don’t feel comfortable around my grandchild. I have no idea what to do when she acts in her odd ways.
No one said it would be easy. But most Asperger kids are easiest to handle in one-on-one situations, so look for opportunities to go for walks or spend time in the workshed puttering around together. Tell your grandchild your stories, especially those that touch on aspects of her life affected by Asperger Syndrome. She will love hearing about the time when you were a girl that you blurted out the secret, or how difficult it was for you to learn to tie your shoes. You might tell her about times you wished you knew how to say something, or times when you wanted to be alone. Stories like these can create a powerful bond between you and your grandchild.
You may discover that all she wants to talk about is her pet subject. Don’t despair. If it’s something you know nothing about, then this is an opportunity to learn something. Search for some magazine articles on the topic so that you always have something new to share together. In time, you may find that you have ideas for helping her expand her interests into other subjects. But even if you do nothing more than listen and share her enthusiasm for her favorite topic in the whole world, your grandchild will learn that Grandma cares.
When you spend time with her with other people or in public places, it might be helpful to think of yourself as a seeing-eye dog. Remember, she is “blind” in certain ways. Point out trouble-spots and guide her around them, explain social situations that she can’t “see,” and narrate what you are doing as you do it. By doing so, you’ll help her to feel more secure with you, and you’ll be actively participating in her special programming.
One word of caution: watch the emotional levels. Asperger children often have great difficulty sorting out emotions. If you get angry, the child could lose control because she is unable to deal with your anger and her own confusion at the same time. Reign in your temper when the child is clumsy, stubborn, or frustrated. In situations where you feel you really need to be firm, keep your tone calm, your movements slow and even, and tell the child what you’re going to do before you do it. Get advice from the parents how to deal with little meltdowns so that you are prepared in advance, but do your best to avoid triggering them.
Here are some simple DO’s and DON’T’s to remember when spending time with your grandchild:
Do praise the child for his strengths.
Do get involved in the child’s interests.
Do learn what sorts of activities are recommended for the child.
Do acknowledge the child’s expressions of frustration.
Do respect the child’s fears, even if they seem senseless.
Do control your anger.
Don’t tell the child she will outgrow her difficulties.
Don’t joke, tease, shame, threaten, or demean the child.
Don’t talk to him as if he were stupid.
Don’t compare him with his siblings.
Don’t feel helpless - ask for help.
©Nancy Mucklow
The author, Nancy Mucklow, is a journalist and parent of a child who is diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome. She wrote this article in the hopes that it would be shared with grandparents of children diagnosed with AS.
***********************************************************************************
Ok so that's about it. I'll keep you posted.
It was eye-opening, and a relief at the same time because this lady is a specialist, and his pediatrician is a doctor, so if they think that he has this, then he probably does, and yay, he's not a weird kid, that this is his normal.
All of you have known me and my family at different times in my children's lives, and have seen Jonathan at different times. Who remembers him playing with his hands? All of you. And making the little noises? Being in one's personal space? Talking "at" you with no give and take in a conversation? Memorization and recitation of any topic that interested him--dinosaurs, Harry Potter, Legos/Bionicle, Pokemon, New England Patriots.
Who remembers how he had to have everything explained to him, a lot? His love of routine? And the meltdowns, oh, the meltdowns. I have come to find out that this is just him responding/reacting to change/stress. Who remembers his speech or vocabulary? He has a huge vocabulary and his speech has always been formal, using more adult words than kid-speak. He is very matter-of-fact.
And there is so much more to him. I am going to post a copy of an article that I found as an explanation to grandparents. But it is written in plain language and answers a lot of questions, so I wanted to post it here so you all could get more info on Asperger's. His appointment isn't until May--apparently pediatric psychiatrists are hard to come by and there is always a waiting list. I will keep you all posted. We are looking at this as a positive step--get him dxed and then we canlearn more how to work with his differences. A lot of things we have learned already, just living with him and avoiding triggering a meltdown. But we don't see this as a bad thing or a shameful thing. We don't need pity, y'all. I just wanted to keep you up to date on what is going on.--Jenn
**********************************************************************************
Especially for Grandparents of Children With Asperger Syndrome
By Nancy Mucklow
If your grandchild has been newly diagnosed, then welcome to the world of Asperger Syndrome. It is a mysterious and sometimes overwhelming world, but it is not one to be afraid of. Even if you are saddened, disappointed or angry about the diagnosis, keep in mind that it’s for the best. The earlier the diagnosis, the earlier the intervention, and the better the prognosis in the long run.
For some grandparents, the news seems to come right out of the blue. Sure, there were difficulties at school - but then, school isn’t as strict as it used to be. And yes, there were some problems at home, but none of them sounded like anything that “good old-fashioned discipline” couldn’t solve. Why, then, do the parents seem to be clinging to this diagnosis as if it were a life-raft in the high seas? And why are counsellors, psychologists, occupational therapists and special education teachers suddenly getting involved?
Is this child really so different?
As grandparents, you have a lot of questions to sort out. But along with the confusion comes an opportunity to get involved where you are really needed. Children with Asperger Syndrome have a special need in their lives for ‘safe’ people who won’t criticize them or put them down for their differences. They need loving, non-judgmental grandparents who accept them as they are and make a place for them in their lives. If you can reach out to them, they will treasure your relationship with them for the rest of their lives.
I’ve read articles about Asperger Syndrome. But I still don’t understand what it is.
Asperger Syndrome is a type of autism, and autism is a neurological disorder that affects the way a person interacts with others and his or her world. It’s not a mental illness, and it is not caused by weak parenting. In its more severe forms, it’s a disorder because it causes disorder in the life of the child. In its milder forms, it is more of a marked difference from the norm. In our culture, which judges people on the way they interact with others, these disorder-differences can have a profound impact on a person’s life.
You’ve probably heard the parents complaining about the difficulties they’ve had with the child in the home - obsessive behavior, irrational outbursts, wild fears, and irritability over the smallest issues. These problems are not misbehaviors, but rather the child’s responses to an inability to comprehend what is going on around them and inside them. Some experts have called it a “mind blindness,” one that causes the person to stumble and bump into complex social situations that they can’t “see.”
Yet by effectively “blinding” the mind to certain aspects of daily life, Asperger Syndrome enables the child’s mind to focus in a way that most of us are incapable of. They feel their feelings more intensely, experience texture, temperature and taste more powerfully, and think their thoughts more single-mindedly. In many ways, this ability to focus is the great gift of Asperger Syndrome, and is the reason why a great number people with Asperger Syndrome have become gifted scientists, artists and musicians.
It is as if the Asperger brain is born speaking a different language. It can learn our language through careful instruction or self-instruction, but it will always retain its accent. While Asperger adults go on to successful careers and interesting lives, they will always be considered unusual people.
I’ve never heard of it before.
That’s not too surprising. Pediatricians don’t study it in medical school, teachers don’t learn about it in education college, and the mass media rarely covers it. Until the 1980s, the condition didn’t even have a name, even though Hans Asperger’s original work was done in the 1940s. It is only very recently that the condition has received much attention at all. However, as professionals are becoming more informed about the condition, they are discovering that there is a fair amount of Asperger Syndrome out there.
You may remember an “odd” child from your grade-school years - one that had no friends, who was always preoccupied with some obsessive interest that no one else cared about, who said the strangest things at the strangest times. Though the syndrome has only recently been named, these children have been living and growing up alongside other children for centuries. Some have become successful and happy as adults despite their undiagnosed problems, teaching themselves over time how to navigate around their deficits. Others have gone on to live lives of confusion and frustration, never understanding why the world didn’t make much sense to them.
With the recognition of Asperger Syndrome, we now can give a new generation of Asperger children a chance at the same kind of life that other children have.
Great. So how do we fix it?
We can’t fix it. Despite all the marvels of modern science, there are still some problems that can’t be cured. Nobody knows what causes Asperger Syndrome, though most scientists acknowledge a genetic factor. So the deficits your grandchild has can only be understood, minimized and worked around. They will require accommodating on everyone’s part. But in time, with proper programming, the child’s behavior and understanding of the world should improve.
Specialized therapies for autism disorders are available, but in most cases, the parents must bear the full cost. This can cause tremendous financial strain on the family. In addition, while most regions require specialized programming for Asperger children, these programs are rarely sufficient for the child’s needs. So the parents must fill in the gaps with their own home-made programming.
Drug therapies are also sometimes available in cases where extreme behavior needs to be controlled. But these drugs don’t treat the cause of Asperger Syndrome. So even if some of the symptoms can be relieved with drugs, the central problems still remain.
A lot of kids have these sorts of difficulties. It’s just a part of growing up, isn’t it? After all, he looks perfectly normal to me.
He is normal. And he has the capacity to grow up to become a wonderful, normal adult - especially now that he has been diagnosed and is receiving special training. But he is normal with a difference.
The deficits that comprise Asperger Syndrome are not always readily apparent, especially in milder cases. The child is usually of average intelligence or higher, yet lacks what are essentially instincts for other children. If your grandchild seems “perfectly normal” despite the diagnosis you’ve been told about, then he is probably working very hard to make sure he fits in - and it’s not as easy as it looks.
It is best to treat your grandchild for what he is - normal. But be prepared to take some advice from those closest to him regarding what is the best way to handle certain situations.
It may not look like much to you, but Asperger Syndrome is a cause for concern. It’s not at all the same thing as the sort of developmental delay that some children experience, and a professional trained in its diagnosis can determine the difference. Certainly misdiagnoses are possible. But in such cases, it’s always wiser to err on the side of caution. The wait-and-see method is risky when there is evidence suggesting a neurological problem.
So what if she doesn’t do what other kids do? She’s advanced for her age.
Unchildlike behavior doesn’t mean that a child is “too smart” for play-dough and playgrounds. Even if she is smart, she still needs to learn the skills of play, because play is how children learn - about things, about life, and about each other. Precociousness is cute and is sometimes a source of pride for grandparents, but it is also often an indication that there is an underlying problem that needs to be addressed - and the earlier the better.
If Asperger Syndrome is genetic, then does that mean we have it too?
You might, or you might not. Usually at least one of the parents has some Asperger qualities to their personality, and so it seems likely that the same might be true of the grandparent generation.
But before you get defensive, remember that Asperger Syndrome shouldn’t be regarded as a source of family shame. It’s a difference more than a disorder. And we know it takes all kinds of people to make the world go around. Many famous people are believed to have had Asperger Syndrome, including Albert Einstein, Thomas Jefferson, Anton Bruckner, and Andy Warhol. It seems a touch of autism often brings out genius.
And that’s not such a bad thing to have in the family!
What if I don’t believe the diagnosis?
That’s your privilege. But keep in mind that the child’s parents believe it. They live and work with the child daily and are in a unique position to notice the deficits. Because they care deeply about that child’s future, they aren’t concerned about the stigma of a label, as long as it means the child is eligible for the specialized programming she needs. They have put their pride aside for the sake of the child and expect the same from the rest of the family.
Consider carefully what could possibly be gained by refusing to believe the diagnosis. Then consider what could be lost. The parents are already living with a great deal more stress than other parents, and they don’t need the added strain of skeptical or judgmental grandparents. Otherwise you may suddenly be faced with the pain of being unwelcome in your grandchild’s home.
The child’s mother looks exhausted all the time. Could that be a cause?
It’s more likely an effect. Consider what her life is like: she has to constantly monitor what is going on regarding her Asperger child, thwart anything that might trigger a meltdown, predict the child’s reactions in all situations and respond immediately, look for opportunities to teach the child social behavior without creating a scene, and so on - every minute, every day. So it’s not surprising that she doesn’t feel like sitting down for a cup of tea with you and making small talk!
The truth is that the majority of mothers of Asperger children struggle with depression. While the special services she will receive over the next few years should help in some ways, she will still be the one to deal with the day-to-day difficulties of raising an unusual child. For many mothers, this means ceaseless work, often to the exclusion of their own needs. Their physical, mental and emotional exhaustion can have a profound effect on the health and happiness of the entire family.
For this reason, mothers of Asperger children need those closest to them to give their full, unconditional support, both in words and in action.
I’d like to help out and get involved. But my son and his wife always get defensive no matter what I say.
Your son and daughter-in-law are now so used to defending their child that it comes as second nature. Give them some time. Once they are more certain of your support, they will be less sensitive.
In the meantime, think carefully before you speak. Choose expressions that suggest sympathy and genuine curiosity, and avoid those that convey criticism. For example, instead of saying ‘He looks perfectly normal to me’, you can say ‘He’s doing really well.’ Phrase ideas as questions, not judgments by saying ‘Have you thought about…’ rather than ‘It’s probably…’.
The most destructive things you can say are those that convey your lack of trust in their ability to parent, your disdain for the diagnosis, and your unwillingness to make accommodations. Here are some real-life examples gathered from mothers of Asperger children:
‘Just let him spend more time with us. We’ll whip him into shape!’ ‘She may act that way at home, but she’s not going to do that in MY house!’‘He wouldn’t act this way if you didn’t work.’‘I managed all by myself with four kids. You’ve just got two, and you can’t handle them!’‘Don’t believe everything those psychologists tell you. He’ll just grow out of it, wait and see!’‘There’s nothing wrong with her. You’re making a mountain out of a molehill. Are you sure you’re not the one that needs to see a psychologist?’‘He’s having all these problems because you took him out of school for that home-schooling nonsense.’‘Everybody’s got to have a problem with a fancy name these days!’‘All you ever do is complain about how hard your life is.’
Ouch!
Keep in mind that parents of Asperger children face these hurtful, humiliating attitudes every day - from bus drivers to teachers, doctors to neighbors. Their tolerance level for such opinionated criticism is low, especially since they spend every bit of their energy raising their difficult child. So avoid insensitive comments at all costs. And if you unwittingly blurt out something the wrong way, be sure to apologize.
So then what can I do for them?
Look for ways to be supportive. Let them know that there is another heart tugging at the load - and it’s yours. Keep on the lookout for articles about Asperger Syndrome and send them copies. This shows that you are interested. Ask lots of questions about the special programs the child is in. Be enthusiastic and optimistic. Let them know you think they’re doing a great job. At other times, be a sympathetic sounding board when they have difficult decisions to make, or when they just need to tell someone what an awful day they’ve had.
If you live close by, consider how much you can help by giving the parents an evening out. If you’re not certain how to handle the child on your own, then spend some time shadowing the parents to learn how to do it - or offer to babysit after the child is in bed. Whatever you can do to help will be appreciated.
What does my grandchild need from me?
He needs to know that you are a safe haven in a bewildering world. It may seem a lot to ask to be flexible with a child who appears to be misbehaving, but inflexibility will only put distance between you and the child. If the child’s manners and mannerisms drive you crazy, ask the parents for suggestions on how to set expectations for your house.
Learn to listen to the child when he says he doesn’t want to do something. Maybe some children are happy to spend a couple of hours at a flea market, but think very carefully before dragging an Asperger child there. Accommodate to his needs, or you run the risk of ruining your time together.
When in doubt, ask the parents for advice.
But in general, just make the decision now that you will spend your time enjoying the child for
what he is - a unique and unusual person. That annoying stubborn streak you see in him is going to be his greatest survival skill. And even though he seems to be afraid of just about anything, recognize that he is like a blind person - it takes tremendous courage for him just to walk through each day. Celebrate his courage and tenacity.
To tell the truth, I don’t feel comfortable around my grandchild. I have no idea what to do when she acts in her odd ways.
No one said it would be easy. But most Asperger kids are easiest to handle in one-on-one situations, so look for opportunities to go for walks or spend time in the workshed puttering around together. Tell your grandchild your stories, especially those that touch on aspects of her life affected by Asperger Syndrome. She will love hearing about the time when you were a girl that you blurted out the secret, or how difficult it was for you to learn to tie your shoes. You might tell her about times you wished you knew how to say something, or times when you wanted to be alone. Stories like these can create a powerful bond between you and your grandchild.
You may discover that all she wants to talk about is her pet subject. Don’t despair. If it’s something you know nothing about, then this is an opportunity to learn something. Search for some magazine articles on the topic so that you always have something new to share together. In time, you may find that you have ideas for helping her expand her interests into other subjects. But even if you do nothing more than listen and share her enthusiasm for her favorite topic in the whole world, your grandchild will learn that Grandma cares.
When you spend time with her with other people or in public places, it might be helpful to think of yourself as a seeing-eye dog. Remember, she is “blind” in certain ways. Point out trouble-spots and guide her around them, explain social situations that she can’t “see,” and narrate what you are doing as you do it. By doing so, you’ll help her to feel more secure with you, and you’ll be actively participating in her special programming.
One word of caution: watch the emotional levels. Asperger children often have great difficulty sorting out emotions. If you get angry, the child could lose control because she is unable to deal with your anger and her own confusion at the same time. Reign in your temper when the child is clumsy, stubborn, or frustrated. In situations where you feel you really need to be firm, keep your tone calm, your movements slow and even, and tell the child what you’re going to do before you do it. Get advice from the parents how to deal with little meltdowns so that you are prepared in advance, but do your best to avoid triggering them.
Here are some simple DO’s and DON’T’s to remember when spending time with your grandchild:
Do praise the child for his strengths.
Do get involved in the child’s interests.
Do learn what sorts of activities are recommended for the child.
Do acknowledge the child’s expressions of frustration.
Do respect the child’s fears, even if they seem senseless.
Do control your anger.
Don’t tell the child she will outgrow her difficulties.
Don’t joke, tease, shame, threaten, or demean the child.
Don’t talk to him as if he were stupid.
Don’t compare him with his siblings.
Don’t feel helpless - ask for help.
©Nancy Mucklow
The author, Nancy Mucklow, is a journalist and parent of a child who is diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome. She wrote this article in the hopes that it would be shared with grandparents of children diagnosed with AS.
***********************************************************************************
Ok so that's about it. I'll keep you posted.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Here I am!
So this is me, an ok picture taken with my cell phone. My hair is tousled and you can see out my bathroom door and down my hall, but oh well. Hi everybody!
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Thoughts about my grandmother's son.
So it has been an eventful few weeks. I found out that my grandmother died. Yeah. She died in October. I found out that she died 3 months before I was notified. So now I would like to issue this statement to my father:
I cannot believe that you would not even write me a card to tell me Mamaw died. I don't know why I am surprised. Throughout my life you have always been too busy to act like I mattered. So why bother to take the time to contact me?
You are many things. You are my father, contributing to half of my DNA. That thought alone turns my stomach. I take solace in that we are not from who we came, but from where we came. I am a product of the house that raised me and those who lived in it and loved me.
I am a wife & mother, a writer, a good cook, a cross stitcher, a scrapbooker, a knitter & crocheter, a pack rat, a clutterbug, a sentimental person who loves most people and animals, and all babies. Not the best housekeeper, not the best singer but I love to do it; I am a list-maker, a planner. I have to plan to be spontaneous. I am a friend to those I know, a lover to my husband and an example to my children. I am all these things and more.
What did you give me? Fear. Distrust. And many examples of how NOT to be.
You are a liar.
***When I visited you one summer you told me that my mother stole me from you and that she was wanted in the state you lived in. Then I went back to school and learned about extradition. I also knew that you always knew our address and phone number, so if she was truly breaking the law, the police could have come and arrested her at any time. So you tried to lie and poison my mind against my mother. It didn't work.
***I wrote to ask if you could maybe send me a little money to help me afford going to my prom. Times were hard at my house and so I thought I'd ask. You wrote back and told me to call you about the prom money. I did and you still never sent any. Thanks.
***You told me that you would pay for my college education. What little college I attended was paid in state grants, and when I wrote you asking for funds so I could study at home, enabling me to better myself and still stay home with my children, you ignored my request. I guess it was too much effort to try to think up a lousy excuse to tell me no, so you didn't even try.
***You told my husband that you were selected as a CPO, but got out of the Navy because you didn't feel like being in anymore. Maybe you thought we wouldn't check? When my husband made CPO, gee, guess whose name is not in any naval record as being a CPO? Yours. And the real reason you got out of the Navy? Because if you had a job, your wages could be garnished and you would have been forced to pay child support. Which brings me to my next illustration:
You are weak. And sad. Your character is sorely lacking. I am looking for the right adjective here and it is just not coming. Let's elaborate:
What kind of a man does not pay child support? You didn't pay it just to "punish" my mother, well we got along just fine. But the obligation remains. I don't know if there is a statute of limitations on seeking back child support especially since I am way past the age of majority. It doesn't really matter because I have no desire to sue. But the fact remains that you owe me (not my mother, because it was for my maintenance, but ME) at least $14,000. I don't need a court of law because I have a brain in my head. You were ordered to pay it and you didn't. You are the worst sort of bottom-dweller--a deadbeat dad. What a shining example of masculinity you turned out to be for my stepmother's sons.
While we are on that subject, let's see. Cheating on my mother with one of her coworkers. That's real classy. Adultery makes me feel nothing but contempt for you. Way to exhibit an utter lack of self control there. You turn my stomach.
Add on not coming to my wedding, and not showing an interest in your grandchildren. One might say that maybe you weren't meant to be a family man. Except you have been married to your co-adulterer and have been raising her kids all these years. So you just didn't want anything to do with *some* of your family. You sure know how to make a girl feel special.
I don't want you to think that you have hurt my feelings by not giving a damn about me, or my family. Because you haven't. I have gotten love & support from my family and haven't felt an empty space where you should have been.
But you do hold my interest. You puzzle me and I find that the more I try to understand you, the more confused I get. So I think of you as a living science exhibit, staring at you in my mind's eye, finding you mildly interesting and impossible to figure out. You are intriguing but only in your lack or morals and decency.
You also piss me off. Mamaw let you move in with her when you moved from your state to hers. You mooched off of her for a month, then moved out and didn't even tell her where you moved. When I visited her, she didn't know your address and you had lived there for months. I cannot believe that you didn't tell me when she died and give me the opportunity to attend her funeral. Then you sold items that were promised to me at birth for a profit. Descriptive words fail me.
You are disrespectful. You lie. You haven't the notion of common courtesy. You make promises that you don't keep. Your word means nothing. It is sad that your brother and his wife have pictures of me and my kids in their albums but you don't.
You are a weaselly sort of person. I was moving cross-country and stopped at Mamaw's house to see her before heading west, and even though I was leaving in the morning, you tried to sell me a car. "Hello, daughter I haven't seen in over 10 years. How about you buy my car?" I don't know what goes through your head, other than selfish thoughts, especially if they revolve around you getting your hands on some money.
Liquidating my grandmother's estate for quick cash fits you to a T. Never mind that I might have liked to have something to remember her by. Thankfully she gave me a quilt she made, or else I'd have nothing in my home that used to be in hers.
Where I am sentimental you are cold and calculating. I'm sure when Mamaw died your eyes turned into dollar signs like a cartoon character's might. What better way to disrespect her memory than by not notifying family of her passing, and selling off everything of hers that had monetary value.
I feel utmost contempt for you. And sad for you, that you will die alone. You reap what you sow.
I cannot believe that you would not even write me a card to tell me Mamaw died. I don't know why I am surprised. Throughout my life you have always been too busy to act like I mattered. So why bother to take the time to contact me?
You are many things. You are my father, contributing to half of my DNA. That thought alone turns my stomach. I take solace in that we are not from who we came, but from where we came. I am a product of the house that raised me and those who lived in it and loved me.
I am a wife & mother, a writer, a good cook, a cross stitcher, a scrapbooker, a knitter & crocheter, a pack rat, a clutterbug, a sentimental person who loves most people and animals, and all babies. Not the best housekeeper, not the best singer but I love to do it; I am a list-maker, a planner. I have to plan to be spontaneous. I am a friend to those I know, a lover to my husband and an example to my children. I am all these things and more.
What did you give me? Fear. Distrust. And many examples of how NOT to be.
You are a liar.
***When I visited you one summer you told me that my mother stole me from you and that she was wanted in the state you lived in. Then I went back to school and learned about extradition. I also knew that you always knew our address and phone number, so if she was truly breaking the law, the police could have come and arrested her at any time. So you tried to lie and poison my mind against my mother. It didn't work.
***I wrote to ask if you could maybe send me a little money to help me afford going to my prom. Times were hard at my house and so I thought I'd ask. You wrote back and told me to call you about the prom money. I did and you still never sent any. Thanks.
***You told me that you would pay for my college education. What little college I attended was paid in state grants, and when I wrote you asking for funds so I could study at home, enabling me to better myself and still stay home with my children, you ignored my request. I guess it was too much effort to try to think up a lousy excuse to tell me no, so you didn't even try.
***You told my husband that you were selected as a CPO, but got out of the Navy because you didn't feel like being in anymore. Maybe you thought we wouldn't check? When my husband made CPO, gee, guess whose name is not in any naval record as being a CPO? Yours. And the real reason you got out of the Navy? Because if you had a job, your wages could be garnished and you would have been forced to pay child support. Which brings me to my next illustration:
You are weak. And sad. Your character is sorely lacking. I am looking for the right adjective here and it is just not coming. Let's elaborate:
What kind of a man does not pay child support? You didn't pay it just to "punish" my mother, well we got along just fine. But the obligation remains. I don't know if there is a statute of limitations on seeking back child support especially since I am way past the age of majority. It doesn't really matter because I have no desire to sue. But the fact remains that you owe me (not my mother, because it was for my maintenance, but ME) at least $14,000. I don't need a court of law because I have a brain in my head. You were ordered to pay it and you didn't. You are the worst sort of bottom-dweller--a deadbeat dad. What a shining example of masculinity you turned out to be for my stepmother's sons.
While we are on that subject, let's see. Cheating on my mother with one of her coworkers. That's real classy. Adultery makes me feel nothing but contempt for you. Way to exhibit an utter lack of self control there. You turn my stomach.
Add on not coming to my wedding, and not showing an interest in your grandchildren. One might say that maybe you weren't meant to be a family man. Except you have been married to your co-adulterer and have been raising her kids all these years. So you just didn't want anything to do with *some* of your family. You sure know how to make a girl feel special.
I don't want you to think that you have hurt my feelings by not giving a damn about me, or my family. Because you haven't. I have gotten love & support from my family and haven't felt an empty space where you should have been.
But you do hold my interest. You puzzle me and I find that the more I try to understand you, the more confused I get. So I think of you as a living science exhibit, staring at you in my mind's eye, finding you mildly interesting and impossible to figure out. You are intriguing but only in your lack or morals and decency.
You also piss me off. Mamaw let you move in with her when you moved from your state to hers. You mooched off of her for a month, then moved out and didn't even tell her where you moved. When I visited her, she didn't know your address and you had lived there for months. I cannot believe that you didn't tell me when she died and give me the opportunity to attend her funeral. Then you sold items that were promised to me at birth for a profit. Descriptive words fail me.
You are disrespectful. You lie. You haven't the notion of common courtesy. You make promises that you don't keep. Your word means nothing. It is sad that your brother and his wife have pictures of me and my kids in their albums but you don't.
You are a weaselly sort of person. I was moving cross-country and stopped at Mamaw's house to see her before heading west, and even though I was leaving in the morning, you tried to sell me a car. "Hello, daughter I haven't seen in over 10 years. How about you buy my car?" I don't know what goes through your head, other than selfish thoughts, especially if they revolve around you getting your hands on some money.
Liquidating my grandmother's estate for quick cash fits you to a T. Never mind that I might have liked to have something to remember her by. Thankfully she gave me a quilt she made, or else I'd have nothing in my home that used to be in hers.
Where I am sentimental you are cold and calculating. I'm sure when Mamaw died your eyes turned into dollar signs like a cartoon character's might. What better way to disrespect her memory than by not notifying family of her passing, and selling off everything of hers that had monetary value.
I feel utmost contempt for you. And sad for you, that you will die alone. You reap what you sow.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Oooooooh! I can get a new belt for my treadmill!
I looked up my treadmill online, and entered the model number. I can order a replacement belt and a replacement owner's manual so I can read how to install the new belt. Yay! The belt is $70.00 and the manual and the tax are $6.00. The shipping? $23.00. Sigh. It's not enough that I have to figure out how to un-build this thing, but hopefully I can install a new belt without hopelessly breaking it (since I did not build it, I don't know how to take it apart).
I don't know. $100.00 is a lot of money that we don't even have right now. Part of me wants to say pbbbbb and throw it away and buy a new one but like I have $500.00 for that? Sigh. Where's a rich fairy godmother when you need one? The diminishment of my tank-sized rear end depends on me having a treadmill.
I don't know. $100.00 is a lot of money that we don't even have right now. Part of me wants to say pbbbbb and throw it away and buy a new one but like I have $500.00 for that? Sigh. Where's a rich fairy godmother when you need one? The diminishment of my tank-sized rear end depends on me having a treadmill.
New Year's Eve!
Here it is, December 31st, 2006. Time for resolutions!
*Keep up with Flylady and maintain the clean house. Keep on decluttering too! I really *don't* need all the crap in my house. I'm not throwing out my crafting stuff, of course. I am talking about old shoes and purses I'll never use again, and too-small clothes for every member of the family that keep on cluttering our closets. Odd socks with no matches? Tossed! Tupperware with no lids? Lids with no bowls? Tossed! Broken toys? Tossed! Games missing pieces? Tossed! et rid of the clutter!
*Take better care of myself. This is all-encompassing, not just about losing weight. I mean make better eating choices and think about what I put in my mouth. Knock off the emotional eating. More water, less soda. Re-wean myself off caffeine. It is like crack, in that it makes me a little nutty. Exercise more. I need to get a new treadmill! Or see if I can get a new belt for the one I shredded. In the meantime, I have an exercise bike. Also, use all of my pampering/grooming products. Scented lotions arent just for taking up space under the bathroom sink! Use them to soften my skin as intended. Take ten minutes in the evening when all is quiet to trim and paint my friggin' nails so I can feel like a girl and not like a mommy-maid-robot who does the same boring things every day. Paint my toenails too. I will feel better about myself by doing little things for me and it will show in my outward attitude toward others.
*Keep up with my crafting projects. Recently I was doing well churning out the crafting projects, be they scrapping, stitching, crocheting or knitting. I want to resume these things because I like to do them. I got a little sidetracked by Christmas but I can get back on track. I have a list of projects for people that are half-finished and need to be completed. I also have set a goal of 365 scrappin' pages to be completed in the next year. I can do a page a day, and this will help me scrap all my pictures!
That's about it for now. I might add more later. Happy New Year, Y'all!
*Keep up with Flylady and maintain the clean house. Keep on decluttering too! I really *don't* need all the crap in my house. I'm not throwing out my crafting stuff, of course. I am talking about old shoes and purses I'll never use again, and too-small clothes for every member of the family that keep on cluttering our closets. Odd socks with no matches? Tossed! Tupperware with no lids? Lids with no bowls? Tossed! Broken toys? Tossed! Games missing pieces? Tossed! et rid of the clutter!
*Take better care of myself. This is all-encompassing, not just about losing weight. I mean make better eating choices and think about what I put in my mouth. Knock off the emotional eating. More water, less soda. Re-wean myself off caffeine. It is like crack, in that it makes me a little nutty. Exercise more. I need to get a new treadmill! Or see if I can get a new belt for the one I shredded. In the meantime, I have an exercise bike. Also, use all of my pampering/grooming products. Scented lotions arent just for taking up space under the bathroom sink! Use them to soften my skin as intended. Take ten minutes in the evening when all is quiet to trim and paint my friggin' nails so I can feel like a girl and not like a mommy-maid-robot who does the same boring things every day. Paint my toenails too. I will feel better about myself by doing little things for me and it will show in my outward attitude toward others.
*Keep up with my crafting projects. Recently I was doing well churning out the crafting projects, be they scrapping, stitching, crocheting or knitting. I want to resume these things because I like to do them. I got a little sidetracked by Christmas but I can get back on track. I have a list of projects for people that are half-finished and need to be completed. I also have set a goal of 365 scrappin' pages to be completed in the next year. I can do a page a day, and this will help me scrap all my pictures!
That's about it for now. I might add more later. Happy New Year, Y'all!
Saturday, December 30, 2006
My first Scrappin' Swap
I signed up to be in a scrapbooking swap, for size 12x12 albums and the theme is dogs. Please tell me what you think of this page border? It is all CM paper, with CM and Xyron adhesive as per the swap rules. I used my Cricut to cut the title letters. I used a CM heart shape maker and a regular hole punch to make the paw print on the tag and I used the CM heart and circle shape makers to make the paper-piecing puppy.
Scrappin' ladies or just regular people who read my blog, let me know what you think!
Monday, December 04, 2006
Thanks to you all
I have been flooded with emails and posts to my blog. Thanks for the support, you all. I appreciate it.
May 18, 1999
Sept 23, 2003
Sept 6, 2004
Nov 10, 2004
Dec 4, 2006
Thanks also for giving me unconditional support. Thank you for not saying that it is G-d's will, or part of a plan. Or that it is a blessing in disguise, because "there was probably something wrong with it" or that "at least you have other children," or "at least you can get pregnant" (as previously said to me by a bonehead). Thanks for just being there.
May 18, 1999
Sept 23, 2003
Sept 6, 2004
Nov 10, 2004
Dec 4, 2006
Thanks also for giving me unconditional support. Thank you for not saying that it is G-d's will, or part of a plan. Or that it is a blessing in disguise, because "there was probably something wrong with it" or that "at least you have other children," or "at least you can get pregnant" (as previously said to me by a bonehead). Thanks for just being there.
Why do I have to be the miscarriage chick?
I am miscarrying again today. That's number 5.
It sounds so ordinary, like, "I am going to the store today." It may seem like I am getting used to it, but I'm not that cold. I am just numb. I made quite the little spectacle of myself at the doctor's office. Y'all just didn't see that.
This baby was with me for 5 weeks, 2 days. I found out on Thanksgiving that I was pregnant. I was only 13 days post-ovulation. I was a little early in testing, but I just knew. Something was different, and not like all the other months where I felt different either. It is hard to explain, but Steve felt it too, and we were giddy to see the digital test display read the word "Pregnant." No question about it. I was only 3 weeks, 5 days! So early! We went to his parents house for turkey dinner but said nothing. Because un-telling sucks.
The next morning I called my doctor's office. We calculated my due date (August 4th), and set up a few appointments, one was an intake appointment for 26 December, and the other was January 3rd. We would have heard the heartbeat then.
We carried on as usual. We were in a thick fog of happy disbelief. We have been trying for 3 1/2 years, but this was still kind of unexpected. We have wanted it for so long, but haven't yet achieved it, you know?
The fog successfully kept the paralyzing fear at bay. We talked lightly of baby names. Something maybe not-so-common, but not too out there, and definitely a legitimate name. Nothing made up, and of course, a properly spelled name. But that's my name snobbery running away on me.
Back on topic.
Sunday I began spotting. Tiny dots of purple, which is old, dead blood. I also did that when I carried Katie, so I tried not to be too concerned. But the fear crept in. I took to my bed like a Victorian lady with the vapors.
The tiny dots turned into bigger dots, the dots into smears, and then today, at the doctor's, actual flow. And the color changed from old, dead blood to fresh, red blood. Just like it has in the past.
Part of me isn't surprised because gee, I have wanted a third child for so long, why should this pregnancy be successful? It doesn't matter that I wanted it, I mean, I wanted the other 4 that I lost as well and didn't get to keep them.
But another part of me *is* surprised. I am deficient in progesterone. But I had my suppositories and I used them faithfully, so why??? The doctor said that since I have my progesterone, something else caused it.
So for some reason they do not have my blood type on file. I am RH negative and need me some RhoGam. They drew my blood and are typing it. G-d forbid that they take my word for it, since I have had it eight times now. But no. Liability or someting, like I am some Munchausen nut who like RhoGam shots? Whatever. So I get to return to the office tomorrow for a shot, after my blood has been properly typed.
When I was at the office they also drew blood for a beta. This is to measure how much HCG is in my blood. If it is high, I return every two days for a re-draw and another beta until it drops to a non-pregnant level. If it is low, I just stay home. I will be calling in a few minutes to see if they know my beta yet.
Both the doctor and the lab tech tried to be optimistic, saying we could get good news from this beta. In other words I could still be pregnant. Yeah, thanks for the optimism but I am not holding out hope. My boobs don't hurt any more and I am bleeding, people. The doctor seems to thnk that because I have only had a few minutes of cramping that it could be nothing.
I have begged G-d for 4, now 5 healthy pregnancies. I didn't get the other 4, and I am not holding out hope for a Christmas miracle. Sigh. I just called the lab and my beta is still pending. So I get to call back in the morning and see if my beta is done, and whether or not my blood has been typed.
So it's not official yet. The long, drawn out answer seems cruel, especially if I were the hopeful type. But I am pretty sure that I am miscarrying. Just thought you all might want to know.
It sounds so ordinary, like, "I am going to the store today." It may seem like I am getting used to it, but I'm not that cold. I am just numb. I made quite the little spectacle of myself at the doctor's office. Y'all just didn't see that.
This baby was with me for 5 weeks, 2 days. I found out on Thanksgiving that I was pregnant. I was only 13 days post-ovulation. I was a little early in testing, but I just knew. Something was different, and not like all the other months where I felt different either. It is hard to explain, but Steve felt it too, and we were giddy to see the digital test display read the word "Pregnant." No question about it. I was only 3 weeks, 5 days! So early! We went to his parents house for turkey dinner but said nothing. Because un-telling sucks.
The next morning I called my doctor's office. We calculated my due date (August 4th), and set up a few appointments, one was an intake appointment for 26 December, and the other was January 3rd. We would have heard the heartbeat then.
We carried on as usual. We were in a thick fog of happy disbelief. We have been trying for 3 1/2 years, but this was still kind of unexpected. We have wanted it for so long, but haven't yet achieved it, you know?
The fog successfully kept the paralyzing fear at bay. We talked lightly of baby names. Something maybe not-so-common, but not too out there, and definitely a legitimate name. Nothing made up, and of course, a properly spelled name. But that's my name snobbery running away on me.
Back on topic.
Sunday I began spotting. Tiny dots of purple, which is old, dead blood. I also did that when I carried Katie, so I tried not to be too concerned. But the fear crept in. I took to my bed like a Victorian lady with the vapors.
The tiny dots turned into bigger dots, the dots into smears, and then today, at the doctor's, actual flow. And the color changed from old, dead blood to fresh, red blood. Just like it has in the past.
Part of me isn't surprised because gee, I have wanted a third child for so long, why should this pregnancy be successful? It doesn't matter that I wanted it, I mean, I wanted the other 4 that I lost as well and didn't get to keep them.
But another part of me *is* surprised. I am deficient in progesterone. But I had my suppositories and I used them faithfully, so why??? The doctor said that since I have my progesterone, something else caused it.
So for some reason they do not have my blood type on file. I am RH negative and need me some RhoGam. They drew my blood and are typing it. G-d forbid that they take my word for it, since I have had it eight times now. But no. Liability or someting, like I am some Munchausen nut who like RhoGam shots? Whatever. So I get to return to the office tomorrow for a shot, after my blood has been properly typed.
When I was at the office they also drew blood for a beta. This is to measure how much HCG is in my blood. If it is high, I return every two days for a re-draw and another beta until it drops to a non-pregnant level. If it is low, I just stay home. I will be calling in a few minutes to see if they know my beta yet.
Both the doctor and the lab tech tried to be optimistic, saying we could get good news from this beta. In other words I could still be pregnant. Yeah, thanks for the optimism but I am not holding out hope. My boobs don't hurt any more and I am bleeding, people. The doctor seems to thnk that because I have only had a few minutes of cramping that it could be nothing.
I have begged G-d for 4, now 5 healthy pregnancies. I didn't get the other 4, and I am not holding out hope for a Christmas miracle. Sigh. I just called the lab and my beta is still pending. So I get to call back in the morning and see if my beta is done, and whether or not my blood has been typed.
So it's not official yet. The long, drawn out answer seems cruel, especially if I were the hopeful type. But I am pretty sure that I am miscarrying. Just thought you all might want to know.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
A money rant
I hate money. I am tired of being ruled by it. I am really tired of worrying about it. I am beyond tired of having ignorant civilians act like we live life on a free ride from the government. It is not like I am some loser in Section 8 with 6 kids who keeps popping them out to stay on welfare and is too lazy to get a job.
No, my husband works to earn the pittance that we are supposed to live off of. Hear that? He works! He is gone for 12 hours a friggin' day. We have one car and we live in East Bumblehoo where there is no public transportation so I can't get a job. Even if we had 2 cars or a random bus, well gee, since he gets home at a different time each night, I would not be able to keep a job. If work starts at 6 and he gets home at 8:30, um, I'd be fired after three lateness incidents.
When we were in MD I worked nights and he worked days so we didn't have to pay a sitter. It worked then because he was home at around the same time each night. And I think it is ridiculous to work just to hand your check over to a sitter. But since it is not an option for me anyway...
I am just tired of money. We have enough to pay the mountain of bills and eat on the cheap. That's it. I hate not being anywhere near a friggin' commissary and having to pay the local outrageous prices. If I want to save money and use a commissary I have to drive 2 hours just to find one. ANd we lose money in gas. It's a no-win situation. I hate being so remote.
This next pay period is going to suck. The first always does. But this one is going to suck more. I think we will be able to make ends meet but the fabric is fraying. I am tired of being stressed about it and being afriad to look at the bank balance. I just hate money.
It just pisses me off when civilians come around, thinking that we are living the high life because "the military pays our rent." I swear, so help me. Military servicemembers get crap-for-pay, and included in said CFP is the "rent money." Hear that, you swarm of ignorant people? It is part of the pay, just the same as you take the money you use to pay your rent from your pay. We do not have tons of money. We don't get a slew of money per payday and then rent on top of all that.
We have bills just like everyone else. We do not "have it made." Did I mention I hate money? Because we don't have any.
No, my husband works to earn the pittance that we are supposed to live off of. Hear that? He works! He is gone for 12 hours a friggin' day. We have one car and we live in East Bumblehoo where there is no public transportation so I can't get a job. Even if we had 2 cars or a random bus, well gee, since he gets home at a different time each night, I would not be able to keep a job. If work starts at 6 and he gets home at 8:30, um, I'd be fired after three lateness incidents.
When we were in MD I worked nights and he worked days so we didn't have to pay a sitter. It worked then because he was home at around the same time each night. And I think it is ridiculous to work just to hand your check over to a sitter. But since it is not an option for me anyway...
I am just tired of money. We have enough to pay the mountain of bills and eat on the cheap. That's it. I hate not being anywhere near a friggin' commissary and having to pay the local outrageous prices. If I want to save money and use a commissary I have to drive 2 hours just to find one. ANd we lose money in gas. It's a no-win situation. I hate being so remote.
This next pay period is going to suck. The first always does. But this one is going to suck more. I think we will be able to make ends meet but the fabric is fraying. I am tired of being stressed about it and being afriad to look at the bank balance. I just hate money.
It just pisses me off when civilians come around, thinking that we are living the high life because "the military pays our rent." I swear, so help me. Military servicemembers get crap-for-pay, and included in said CFP is the "rent money." Hear that, you swarm of ignorant people? It is part of the pay, just the same as you take the money you use to pay your rent from your pay. We do not have tons of money. We don't get a slew of money per payday and then rent on top of all that.
We have bills just like everyone else. We do not "have it made." Did I mention I hate money? Because we don't have any.
Monday, November 27, 2006
A few more pics
I haven't gotten any film developed from Thanksgiving yet, but I wanted to post a few updated pics of the babies for you all. The top one is when they were still in the hospital, but much bigger than they were at a week old, the middle one is of SIL, their mom, holding them both and the third pic is of both girls as a vision in pink.
Monday, November 20, 2006
My Christmas Wish List
OK so the holidays are right around the corner. I am a big fan of making wish lists so that people who ask for suggestions can have them. It worked wonderfully well for my kids' joint birthday party this past weekend. When both families asked what to get the kids, I had the wish list in hand, and I was able to recommend different things to both sides of the family, and woo hoo for no duplicate gifts! I love a wish list because if someone gives me one, I know I can get them either something they want or something they will use.
If you are related to me, you know that I was not always this way. And in 1997, quite the memorable Christmas, I got 13 bath sets. Thirteen. Thirrrrrrrrrrrr-teeeeeeeeeeeeeeen. All different smells, and all appreciated, since I actually do like smelly oaps & lotions. However, in that big of a quantity, well, I wondered if the family was trying to suggest something???
So, on with the greedy pig-ness. In no real order of importance.
Since I walked the belt right off the old one, a new motorized treadmill. Not a manual one. I don't need one with all the bells and whistles, like a belt that can be elevated or 25 differeent levels, (my old one was flat/normal and had 6 levels) but it does need to be motorized since they are less stressful on the knees. Of course the ones I am looking at are running about $500!
Harry Potter Scene It game.
The Da Vinci Code DVD
A pasta maker, whether extruder-style or hand crank, I don't care. I just want one.
A Kitchen Aid mixer is a bonus. A silly want: a Doozer toy. Remember them from Fraggle Rock?
Rubbermaid rolly carts for craft storage. Deep or shallow drawers don't matter--I can put my crafty stuff in both. Also, things to go in those drawers would be really nice too, like yarn. Whether funky or plain or supersoft, I love me some yarn. Scrapbooking stuff too, and cross stitching. I love crafty things. Finally, gift certificates to any of the following stores: WalMart, Target, Barnes & Noble, Michael's, AC Moore, JoAnn Fabrics, any local scrapbooking store, or just plain money so I can buy Creative Memories supplies from my local consultant. Pass the info along people, because I like presents!
If you are related to me, you know that I was not always this way. And in 1997, quite the memorable Christmas, I got 13 bath sets. Thirteen. Thirrrrrrrrrrrr-teeeeeeeeeeeeeeen. All different smells, and all appreciated, since I actually do like smelly oaps & lotions. However, in that big of a quantity, well, I wondered if the family was trying to suggest something???
So, on with the greedy pig-ness. In no real order of importance.
Since I walked the belt right off the old one, a new motorized treadmill. Not a manual one. I don't need one with all the bells and whistles, like a belt that can be elevated or 25 differeent levels, (my old one was flat/normal and had 6 levels) but it does need to be motorized since they are less stressful on the knees. Of course the ones I am looking at are running about $500!
Harry Potter Scene It game.
The Da Vinci Code DVD
A pasta maker, whether extruder-style or hand crank, I don't care. I just want one.
A Kitchen Aid mixer is a bonus. A silly want: a Doozer toy. Remember them from Fraggle Rock?
Rubbermaid rolly carts for craft storage. Deep or shallow drawers don't matter--I can put my crafty stuff in both. Also, things to go in those drawers would be really nice too, like yarn. Whether funky or plain or supersoft, I love me some yarn. Scrapbooking stuff too, and cross stitching. I love crafty things. Finally, gift certificates to any of the following stores: WalMart, Target, Barnes & Noble, Michael's, AC Moore, JoAnn Fabrics, any local scrapbooking store, or just plain money so I can buy Creative Memories supplies from my local consultant. Pass the info along people, because I like presents!
Thursday, November 16, 2006
A few minutes to update on the past month
It has been a while since I last posted.
So I cleared off the bar for the bazillionth time. And today I also rearranged the cupboards. I did a food purge as well. I checked all the expiration dates on the food and threw out the questionable stuff. No food poisoning for us please. I have no clue what will be for dinner. Eh, probably sloppy joes. I don't necessarily want to eat them, but I am supposed to be watching the neighbor's kids this afternoon and evening so I want to serve something kid-friendly. Sloppy joes and chips it is!
Heard a funny saying today. You know how people talk about pinching pennies/saving money etc? One lady said," My mom can pinch a penny till it screams." Hahahahaha!
My sink is shiny, a la Flylady, but I do not have shoes on. How bout no? I hate wearing shoes. My bathroom is clean and company-ready all the time, a la Flylady as well. www.flylady.com It is a lovely website that has helped me muchly. Though sometimes I feel like all I do is clean. But whatever, because right now I am on the couch, using the laptop, and the living room is clean, vacuumed, windows washed, heat registers dusted, etc. I do that for maintenance every day, along with the aforementioned bathroom.
I changed a blown bulb in the outside front-door light fixture.
I amassed all the nonperishable party food on the counter. Because it is extra food and not normally purchased, it does not fit in the cupboard but I don't want to put it on my clean bar.
The kids' joint birthday party is Saturday, and I thought they would like to have their own parties since they are getting older now but they asked to have it together because they wanted "a big party, Mom." OK. No big deal--I get to feed the same people once instead of twice, LOL.
Jonathan is having a Pokemon party and Katie is having the 12 Dancing Princesses. They will each get streamers in their own colors, which I will put up on Friday night so when tey wake up Saturday morning the house will be decorated for them. They are getting cakes in their own theme as well. We are doing pin the tail on the donkey and a pinata and a bean bag toss and coloring sheets also. I am not doing favor bags. I have treat sacks for the kids for when they whack the pinata and they can take that home as favor.
I will be taking tons of pictures, of course, and I will post some as soon as I get the film developed. Well I am about out of time so I will post this, find something small to clean in the few minutes before the kids' bus arrives, and then my evening as entertainment director, homework facilitator and waitress begins! Wheeee!
So I cleared off the bar for the bazillionth time. And today I also rearranged the cupboards. I did a food purge as well. I checked all the expiration dates on the food and threw out the questionable stuff. No food poisoning for us please. I have no clue what will be for dinner. Eh, probably sloppy joes. I don't necessarily want to eat them, but I am supposed to be watching the neighbor's kids this afternoon and evening so I want to serve something kid-friendly. Sloppy joes and chips it is!
Heard a funny saying today. You know how people talk about pinching pennies/saving money etc? One lady said," My mom can pinch a penny till it screams." Hahahahaha!
My sink is shiny, a la Flylady, but I do not have shoes on. How bout no? I hate wearing shoes. My bathroom is clean and company-ready all the time, a la Flylady as well. www.flylady.com It is a lovely website that has helped me muchly. Though sometimes I feel like all I do is clean. But whatever, because right now I am on the couch, using the laptop, and the living room is clean, vacuumed, windows washed, heat registers dusted, etc. I do that for maintenance every day, along with the aforementioned bathroom.
I changed a blown bulb in the outside front-door light fixture.
I amassed all the nonperishable party food on the counter. Because it is extra food and not normally purchased, it does not fit in the cupboard but I don't want to put it on my clean bar.
The kids' joint birthday party is Saturday, and I thought they would like to have their own parties since they are getting older now but they asked to have it together because they wanted "a big party, Mom." OK. No big deal--I get to feed the same people once instead of twice, LOL.
Jonathan is having a Pokemon party and Katie is having the 12 Dancing Princesses. They will each get streamers in their own colors, which I will put up on Friday night so when tey wake up Saturday morning the house will be decorated for them. They are getting cakes in their own theme as well. We are doing pin the tail on the donkey and a pinata and a bean bag toss and coloring sheets also. I am not doing favor bags. I have treat sacks for the kids for when they whack the pinata and they can take that home as favor.
I will be taking tons of pictures, of course, and I will post some as soon as I get the film developed. Well I am about out of time so I will post this, find something small to clean in the few minutes before the kids' bus arrives, and then my evening as entertainment director, homework facilitator and waitress begins! Wheeee!
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Cheese!
The kids got school pictures and wouldn't you know, the year I was cheap and just bought one sheet, they had wonderful pics! So I scanned them so you all can see the kids.
I will add them to the post in a minute, but here's a little bit about what's going on lately. Um, same stuff, different day. Steve goes to work, the kids go tot school, and I stay home and rule the roost. My days entail laundry, washing dishes, working on the 15 million craft projects I have promised people for Christmas, trying to fid something new and yummy to fix for dinner so the family does not get bored eating the same food over & over, and using the treadmill. I see my neighbor Meghan every day and she holds me accountable, asking me if I have done the treadmill for today? I bug her as well.
That's about it. Yeah, I'm boring. OK here are the kids:
Monday, October 02, 2006
Odds and ends
So. Here's a little update of the past few days.
We went to the Khaki Ball, which is a fancy term for "all the guys dress up in work clothes and the wives just dress nice. Then you eat, and there's no dancing."
The no-dancing part was fine by me. I do a lovely imitation of a frog-in-a-blender, and you all have not lived til you see Steve's imintation of a pizza boy--o wait! Everyone at the KB *did* get to see that! SO FUNNY!
The dinner choices were prime rib, or sliced, stuffed chicken breast, or a giant slab of yummy salmon (guess which one I had?). They all came with baked potato. The starter was clam chowder and dessert was cheesecake. Yum. And we got to know a lot of Chiefs and their spouses, and had a good time & laughed a lot.
Who remembers my last post about my teacher? Update: I sent an email to an address that I thought might possibly be his, and it was! How cool is that? So I was able to tell him that I thought he was a good teacher. Yay!
So. I have pot roast simmering in the crock pot for dinner tonight, and I did the maintenance cleaning of the house today. After I post this, I am going to start knitting a scarf for my little nephew, for Christmas. He is a fan of Thomas the Tank Engine and so I got bright red, blue and yellow, like the colors in the Thomas stories/merchandise, and I am going to make him a little stripey scarf. I am making a scarf for my little niece, in a varigated pink/purple/sparkly colors too. And for my twin nieces, I am crocheting them some blankets. I have chosen two different colors of yarn, since though theyare twins, they are separate people. And Mary if you are reading this, shhh, don't say anything! Christmas presents are supposed to be a surprise!
Well that's about it for today.
We went to the Khaki Ball, which is a fancy term for "all the guys dress up in work clothes and the wives just dress nice. Then you eat, and there's no dancing."
The no-dancing part was fine by me. I do a lovely imitation of a frog-in-a-blender, and you all have not lived til you see Steve's imintation of a pizza boy--o wait! Everyone at the KB *did* get to see that! SO FUNNY!
The dinner choices were prime rib, or sliced, stuffed chicken breast, or a giant slab of yummy salmon (guess which one I had?). They all came with baked potato. The starter was clam chowder and dessert was cheesecake. Yum. And we got to know a lot of Chiefs and their spouses, and had a good time & laughed a lot.
Who remembers my last post about my teacher? Update: I sent an email to an address that I thought might possibly be his, and it was! How cool is that? So I was able to tell him that I thought he was a good teacher. Yay!
So. I have pot roast simmering in the crock pot for dinner tonight, and I did the maintenance cleaning of the house today. After I post this, I am going to start knitting a scarf for my little nephew, for Christmas. He is a fan of Thomas the Tank Engine and so I got bright red, blue and yellow, like the colors in the Thomas stories/merchandise, and I am going to make him a little stripey scarf. I am making a scarf for my little niece, in a varigated pink/purple/sparkly colors too. And for my twin nieces, I am crocheting them some blankets. I have chosen two different colors of yarn, since though theyare twins, they are separate people. And Mary if you are reading this, shhh, don't say anything! Christmas presents are supposed to be a surprise!
Well that's about it for today.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Calling Mr. Michael Petko
Recently I have been looking online for a Mr. Michael Petko who taught middle school in Florida in the early 90s. If you have Googled yourself and found my blog, Mr. Petko, read on. Everyone else, humor me.
Back then I was Jennifer Presley. I was a student of Mr. Petko's for 2 years--sixth and seventh grade. We had quite the personality clash. I would have sworn that he moved up to teach 7th grade that second year I had him *just* to irk me.
One time he threw me out of class. Another time, though he called me to the front of the room. He used to teach at a podium. And I stood there and he quietly asked if I hated him? This was toward the end of seventh grade, and I was taken aback. I had becomes used to Mr. Petko by then and he had shifted from being a demon in my eyes to a "cool" teacher. It was on the tip of my tongue to say,"You're a hard teacher to hate, Mr P."
But I didn't say it. Some experiences from his class have stuck with me through the years longer than say, any ones I had in Math class. (Sorry Mrs. Swope). I do remember being quite terrified of my English teacher, but that's another story.
I remember watching the news in class when we were at war and had just gone over to Kuwait. I also remember something that made me laugh, and still does to this day. I remembered it again recently and told my husband about it.
We were in class and Mr. Petko mentioned Muslims. I was confused. "Muslims?" I asked, "Isn't that what you make sheets of?"
Now it was Mr. Petko's turn to look confused. I referred to one of the Little House on the Prairie books, where the character said the made bed sheets of "muslim.' You have to hand it to Mr. Petko--he didn't laugh at me. I would have laughed at me. He simply said "muslin," kind of shook his head, and continued with the lesson.
So, that's about it. I have been wanting to find Mr. Petko and tell him, if he even remembers me, that I was a snarky little brat in his class. I deserved to get sent out of class that day, and I didn't hate him. I had fun in his class. I also remember making those little 3-D paper globes. I think he was were a good teacher.
I tried to find him at the school but he is no longer listed on the staff. I just wanted him to know.
I know I complained numerous times to friends and family about him, and him asking me if I hated him was thought-provoking. I simply said no and sat down.
I hope he sees this and the knowledge that I, a student he might not even recall after teaching thousands, (or worse yet, someone he recalls to this day as the bane of his existence) think he
was a good teacher, and that it brightens his day.
Jenn, walking down memory lane.
Back then I was Jennifer Presley. I was a student of Mr. Petko's for 2 years--sixth and seventh grade. We had quite the personality clash. I would have sworn that he moved up to teach 7th grade that second year I had him *just* to irk me.
One time he threw me out of class. Another time, though he called me to the front of the room. He used to teach at a podium. And I stood there and he quietly asked if I hated him? This was toward the end of seventh grade, and I was taken aback. I had becomes used to Mr. Petko by then and he had shifted from being a demon in my eyes to a "cool" teacher. It was on the tip of my tongue to say,"You're a hard teacher to hate, Mr P."
But I didn't say it. Some experiences from his class have stuck with me through the years longer than say, any ones I had in Math class. (Sorry Mrs. Swope). I do remember being quite terrified of my English teacher, but that's another story.
I remember watching the news in class when we were at war and had just gone over to Kuwait. I also remember something that made me laugh, and still does to this day. I remembered it again recently and told my husband about it.
We were in class and Mr. Petko mentioned Muslims. I was confused. "Muslims?" I asked, "Isn't that what you make sheets of?"
Now it was Mr. Petko's turn to look confused. I referred to one of the Little House on the Prairie books, where the character said the made bed sheets of "muslim.' You have to hand it to Mr. Petko--he didn't laugh at me. I would have laughed at me. He simply said "muslin," kind of shook his head, and continued with the lesson.
So, that's about it. I have been wanting to find Mr. Petko and tell him, if he even remembers me, that I was a snarky little brat in his class. I deserved to get sent out of class that day, and I didn't hate him. I had fun in his class. I also remember making those little 3-D paper globes. I think he was were a good teacher.
I tried to find him at the school but he is no longer listed on the staff. I just wanted him to know.
I know I complained numerous times to friends and family about him, and him asking me if I hated him was thought-provoking. I simply said no and sat down.
I hope he sees this and the knowledge that I, a student he might not even recall after teaching thousands, (or worse yet, someone he recalls to this day as the bane of his existence) think he
was a good teacher, and that it brightens his day.
Jenn, walking down memory lane.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Around the house
Here are a few more pics for today. Again, out of order, but oh well. If you click on any of the pictures in any of the posts, they will enlarge so you can see them better.The kids are on top, fresh off the bus from the first day of school.
Second, a shot of our house. Has anyone seen it yet? I thought that I took a picture with my cell phone and passed it along, but in case y'all haven't seen it, there you go. See the giant yard? Fun to mow, just ask my dad. We put our visiting guests to work, you know? LOL!
And everyone knows we own the smallest car on the planet, well it just looks dwarfed by the house.
Finally, the obscene mushrooms. They are called stink horns, and yes, they smell terrible. I took this picture and then thenext day, two more clusters had popped up. They look vulgar and smell nasty. There's your giggle for the day.
So, now for a real post. Steve is at work and the kids are at school. Time to start eht maintenace cleaning. First the bathroom. I am trying to do Flylady and she says always keep your bathroom company ready. What do I see? A discarded towel. *hangs it up* Toothpaste globs in the sink. *Swishes out sink* Paper towels that have jumped ship from the trash can. *Picks them up*
Onto the kitchen. Cereal runches underfoot. Tanks kids! Oh well, at least there isn't a milk puddle today, though the empty carton is on the counter instead of in the trash can, and so is the empty box of cereal. *throws them away and sweeps floor* But the sink is empty. Where are the dishes? Yay, dish hunting, one of my favorite household sports. Right up there with laundry stalking.
*Refolds blankets in the living room* Oooh the phone!
CONGRATULATIONS to Julie and Jeremy, proud parents of twin boys, born at 2:31 and 2:32 this morning, Friday, September 22, 2006. Noah James, a little redhead, was born first, weighing 6 pounds 2 ounces, and measuring 18 inches. Baby B, whose name is still being decided as we speak, was born second, weighing 6 pounds 9 ounces, and also measuring 18 inches. He is in the regular nursery and doing fine, and Noah will be in the NICU for a day or 2, because there is a little fluid in his lungs. When babies are born, fluid is squeezed from their lungs as they travel the birth canal. But Julie's babies were C-section, so no squeezing, and a little fluid is still in the lungs. But a day is not so bad, and they will probably all go home together in a few days. They were born at 35 weeks, 1 day, and are huge for their age! But Julie makes big babies. Yay for jumbo shrimp!
I swear there are twins everywhere around me. Some friends from CA had B/G twins named Isabella Joy and Christian Michael. They are about 9 weeks old now. Then my SIL had hers, that I already posted about, both girls and so beautiful. They will be two weeks old in a few days. Now Julie has her two boys! Yay for babies! Yay for healthy babies! Yay for Julie having a healthy heart! She had PPCM with her last pregnancy and was very closely monitored during this one but her echo yesterday shows normal heart function. She will still be monitored for 6 months, though. I am just so happy for her!
OK I am going to go paint Katie's dresser now. Adios y'all.
More pinning pics
OK so the pictures are out of order, but oh well. These two are of my dad and the kids in front of a little "play" boat. They had a few models that the kids could climb on right by the USS Massahchusetts where the ceremony was held. I, ever the camera freak, snapped a shot of them in front of one. The kids killed time waiting for the ceremony to start by climbing on the models, and managed not to get dirty. I was impressed. But all that climbing, and insisting that Paw Paw come too? My poor dad's knees!Next is a shot my dad took of me & the kids with the USS Mass in the background. Cheese, y'all.
Apple picking
So after Steve woke up from his post-initiation coma, we took my dad and the kids apple picking. There is an orchard nearby. The first pic is my dad and the kids standing in the shade, waiting for the tractor to come and pull us out to the apple trees. The next pic is of Katie and my dad on a rock. I like this picture because the tree in the background shows how the leaves are turning. It was a nice cool fall day. And then a family shot taken by my dad of us munching apples. They were sun-warmed, sweet and crisp, fresh off the tree. Yum!
The new Chief
Here are a few pics of Steve, from first class to Chief. He was never so happy as the last day he wore his whites! See him cheesin'? Then the next pic is him going through the line of sideboys after he had been pinned. I got that shot right as he walked by. I love that pic!
The third pic was taken either by Steve's mom or sister Mary, I cant remember which. But it was after the ceremony. We were both so happy, and Steve was just exhausted. It was a lovely ceremony, and the kids, MIL and I pinned Steve's anchors on. My dad flew in as a surprise to attend the pinning as well. After we got home, Steve slept for 14 hours!
Monday, September 18, 2006
How much is too much?
In terms of pictures, I mean. I have a whole roll. Here are two more. I clicked on the "large" setting for my previous post but they came out the same size as before. And now this post too!Hmmm.
The top picture is me feeding Alyssa. I thought that when my son Jonathan was born, his hospital bottles were small, but wow, these were just tiny, and with red nipples. Hee hee! Steve is standing in the background, watching MacKenzie in her bed under her grow-bulb.
The bottom picture is of MacKenzie, really mad! She was mid-yowl when I took the picture.
Even crying, I think she is beautiful. I just love babies. That's all for now.
more
The top picture is of me holding MacKenzie. The middle pic is me holding Alyssa. The bottom pic is Steve comparing his hand size with Alyssa's. We each held each baby and I fed Alyssa and burped her. They are just perfect. They are lovely. How can they be so small, yet still appear big? They are strong. They both peeped their bitty eyes at us, and we got to hear their little newborn noises--those grunts and squeaks, as well as their cries when they were hungry. They made little poops too, and I swear I never saw such small bottoms in my life.I know I must sound like a blabbering idiot but I am smitten. Enchanted at tiny ears, and fingers. Awed at perfection in such a small package. Amazed at their strength.
And heartbroken at the situation. Yeserday when we went there, MIL asked SIL if she was going to stay the whole hour for both girls' feedings, and SIL said, "Yeah, it makes me look good if I stay for both."
MIL saw the storm cloud that was my face and tried to backpedal, trailing after SIL, asking, "And it's nice to be able to hold both babies, right?" No response from SIL. I died a little inside. She only goes to the hospital to keep up appearances?
Later, MIL tells me she can't wait until htey babies com home, because she is goingot take 2 weeks off work to "play dolls." What the hell? What is with these people? These are babies, real human beings who require constant care, not playthings to be propped, posed and used as attention grabbers. They are not a novelty. They are not toys. They are innocent babies who need love and attention, not to be used as showpieces.
It makes me so frustrated. And I have to it back and watch the trainwreck unfold. Call me bitter but I think that on about night 3 of sleeplessness, the novelty of playing dolls will wear off as MIL realizes that it is not a game. I don't know what, if any, help SIL will be. She will be getting weaned off her methadone, and so she will be itching to go get high, and this usually involves stealing MIL's car in the middle of the night. Finally, there are 2 more children involved to think about--they are 3 and 2. SIL's other kids. Now she doesn't have custody of them but all of them live in the same house.
Their needs still have to be met. They are too young for much independence or autonomy. I think all 4 kids will suffer. And it makes me sad that the adults involved cannot see beyond the novelty and the cuteness factor and think of what is in the best interest of the children.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Well I put the pics to medium so they wouldn't be huge. I guess I should have set it to large?Here are the twins. These are pics that MIL took. Steve was promoted this weekend, and MIL came to the pinning ceremony and gave me these prints. So I came home & scanned them for your viewing pleasure. Alyssa, the second born and bigger of the two, is on top. Her mother decided to change her name from Alyssa Ann to Alyssa Mary. On the bottom is the firstborn and slightly smaller MacKenzie Rose. Don't they look so cute under the sunlamp and in their "shades"?
This is just a quick post since we are leaving within an hour to go to see the babies in person, at which point I will post more pictures. --j.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
The twins were born last night
They were born by C-section about 7 weeks early, at 33w 3d. MacKenzie Rose was born at 6:01 PM, weighing 3 pounds, 2.6 ounces and measuring 15 3/4 inches long. Her sister Alyssa Ann was born at 6:02, weighing 4 pounds, 1 ounce and measuring 17 inches long. Alyssa is on a CPAP for apnea and both babies are expected to stay in the hospital for the next two weeks. During that time they will undergo detox. They were born high due to their mother's drug addiction.
These are my nieces. I haven't seen them yet, but when I do I will post pictures. We hope to make the trip to CT to see them this weekend. It will be bittersweet for me to see these sweet babies but oh well. I love them and their older brother and sister MaKayla and Anthony even though I do not like their mother or her life choices. All four children are innocent and did not ask to be born, so they will get smothered in love from Auntie Jenn.
These are my nieces. I haven't seen them yet, but when I do I will post pictures. We hope to make the trip to CT to see them this weekend. It will be bittersweet for me to see these sweet babies but oh well. I love them and their older brother and sister MaKayla and Anthony even though I do not like their mother or her life choices. All four children are innocent and did not ask to be born, so they will get smothered in love from Auntie Jenn.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
The inchworm story
A few of you have heard this, but it bears repeating for those who haven't. Plus it saves me a million repetitions. :-)
Steve and I have been trying for a baby. Recently, I found out (like I do every month) that I was not pregnant. Disappointment ensued. I was talking to Steve and I said that I have not felt or sensed G-d's presence lately, and it was disturbing to me. I have felt empty and ignored. Not fun.
Pause this story. To understand the rest of this story, first you have to hear another one.
I was doing a Bible study in CA. One of the questions we were asked was, where do you see G-d in your everyday life? One woman answered by saying she sees G-d in the vastness of the ocean, or in large things like the Grand Canyon.
For me I see G-d in small things, like ladybugs, or even tiny spiders. I don't like spiders but sometimes you see ones that are so small, you can't smush them. They are no threat and are not scary. But you see this tiny little life that eats, breathes, lives, and you can barely see it. It has a tiny heart that beats, and I can't see that without a microscoope. I can't recreate that. To me, these tiny beings, that's G-d.
Ok, now un-pause the other story. Two days after I had the discussion with Steve where I felt ignored by G-d, I was outside with Katie and we were going down the little path towards the driveway. There, on the path, its bright yellow color in stark contrast to the black asphalt, was a tiny inchworm.
There he was, inching along. His body was making the curve of the letter C with every movement. And Katie was briefly diverted, but quickly lost interest. There are bugs all over around our house. Walking sticks, butterflies, moths, etc. And animals like bunny rabbits. And snakes and frogs, and bears (that we haven't seen yet) and horses. Yeah. Steve tried to get crushed by one in our car, as it ran out of its driveway. Apparently horses don't have turn signals. You all know how small our car is. But anyway.
The inchworm. I was mesmerized because to me, that was G-d saying "I'm still here." And that made my day, because I didn't feel ignored any more.
So that's the inchworm story.
Steve and I have been trying for a baby. Recently, I found out (like I do every month) that I was not pregnant. Disappointment ensued. I was talking to Steve and I said that I have not felt or sensed G-d's presence lately, and it was disturbing to me. I have felt empty and ignored. Not fun.
Pause this story. To understand the rest of this story, first you have to hear another one.
I was doing a Bible study in CA. One of the questions we were asked was, where do you see G-d in your everyday life? One woman answered by saying she sees G-d in the vastness of the ocean, or in large things like the Grand Canyon.
For me I see G-d in small things, like ladybugs, or even tiny spiders. I don't like spiders but sometimes you see ones that are so small, you can't smush them. They are no threat and are not scary. But you see this tiny little life that eats, breathes, lives, and you can barely see it. It has a tiny heart that beats, and I can't see that without a microscoope. I can't recreate that. To me, these tiny beings, that's G-d.
Ok, now un-pause the other story. Two days after I had the discussion with Steve where I felt ignored by G-d, I was outside with Katie and we were going down the little path towards the driveway. There, on the path, its bright yellow color in stark contrast to the black asphalt, was a tiny inchworm.
There he was, inching along. His body was making the curve of the letter C with every movement. And Katie was briefly diverted, but quickly lost interest. There are bugs all over around our house. Walking sticks, butterflies, moths, etc. And animals like bunny rabbits. And snakes and frogs, and bears (that we haven't seen yet) and horses. Yeah. Steve tried to get crushed by one in our car, as it ran out of its driveway. Apparently horses don't have turn signals. You all know how small our car is. But anyway.
The inchworm. I was mesmerized because to me, that was G-d saying "I'm still here." And that made my day, because I didn't feel ignored any more.
So that's the inchworm story.
It's been a while!
School starts on Tuesday and I cannot wait to get these kids out the door! My house, which I have been trying to clean, can stay clean. Food will stay in my cupboards longer than 3 days after payday. I tell you they get so bored and want to eat all day!
So what's been up at my house? Steve is almost done with Chief's initiation. I have been incorporating Flylady's principles and ideas at my house. It is a slow going but the site says it can take up to a month to form new habits.
New habits, well here's one. I stopped drinking soda. Thats to my benefit. Lots of empty calories. But I am sure that Julie, Michelle, Diane and Cynthia miss me burping like a piggy on the phone.
My friend Netanya had her baby, a sweet, beautiful girl whom she named Eliana, meaning G-d has answered. I am sure He has certainly answered her prayers and I am so happy for her and Gil! Congrats you guys!
Hey everyone, here is a link to sign up for free chocolate from Nestle. Have at it!
http://nestlechocolatier.fanitorium.com/?C1853_556008
So what's been up at my house? Steve is almost done with Chief's initiation. I have been incorporating Flylady's principles and ideas at my house. It is a slow going but the site says it can take up to a month to form new habits.
New habits, well here's one. I stopped drinking soda. Thats to my benefit. Lots of empty calories. But I am sure that Julie, Michelle, Diane and Cynthia miss me burping like a piggy on the phone.
My friend Netanya had her baby, a sweet, beautiful girl whom she named Eliana, meaning G-d has answered. I am sure He has certainly answered her prayers and I am so happy for her and Gil! Congrats you guys!
Hey everyone, here is a link to sign up for free chocolate from Nestle. Have at it!
http://nestlechocolatier.fanitorium.com/?C1853_556008
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Reflections from a recruiter's wife
Sounds poetic, doesn't it? Ha! Reflections is just another word for bitching & moaning, but I'm not really doing that.
I never doubted the word of all the wives who "did their time" before me. I just had no clue what it would be like. It is kind of like a woman preparing for the birth of her firstborn-she kinda knows what's coming but on the whole, has no clue what's in store. Then after the fact, she thinks, "Oh, so this is what those other women meant."
I dunno. I am so used to the regular Navy, the "real" Navy. Not to say this is skate duty or anything. I am just used to a large command, and being in a military community and I think that has been a difficult adjustment. I am used to Steve having 36 hour duty every 8 days, and I am used to underways of all sorts of duration. I am used to being surrounded by other military wives. And kids.
So where do I find myself? Primarily, alone. Steve works six days out of seven, and long hours. That is not a complaint, it is just how it is. It has, however, taken three months to stop being a complaint. There was definitely a period of adjustment. At first I would stare at the few wives I have met (count 'em, two) who say that they are grateful to have them home each night, no matter how late.
Heh. I would prefer he had duty every 8 days. Even with the fact that he would be gone during those 36 hours, there was a predictablility to his work routine, and I knew he would be home by 6 each night.
But now, I usually see him by 9 PM. But some nights he gets home by 7 or soand scares me. Our door is really quiet and the other night I had fed the kids and was just pulling chocolate chip cookie bars out of the oven. And the kitchen door opens, but of course I don't hear it and I turn around and there he was just looking at us. Scared the crap out of me.
I have really learned over the past few months that the needs of the Navy do come first, now more than ever. There is a joke among Navy wives that if the Navy wanted your Sailor to have a family, they would have issued him one with his seabag. In other words, the Navy owns your Sailor and don't complain about anything because they supercede you.
I thought I had learned that lesson many time over in the past 8 years, like when my husband was still made to stand duty when I was losing our baby. I had to have one neighbor take care of my kids, and another drive me to the ER.
Then there was the time that I had weird symptoms all day and evening, but (gotta love Tricare) I could not get a same day appointment. So I called the nurse line that evening and told her my symptoms, and got a stern lecture for not being seen that day. Hello, no appointments available? I told her the same symptoms that I told three other Tricare people that day, and she was the only one alarmed by them. She told me to get to the ER. It seems she thought I was having a stroke.
So again, with the neighbors for childcare and transportation, because Steve was on duty. And I called the quarterdeck, which was a feat in itself. Steve told me never ever to call unless it was life & death. I figured that the Tricare lady thought I was going to die, well, he deserved to know about it.
After some runaround with the yahoo at the quarterdeck claiming she could not find my husband (he is on duty you idiot, look at the duty roster, he is the only one on the ship with our last name, etc) I ended up getting a message to him. And I made the yahoo cry. Hello Seaman Stumpf! I'm talking to you! Stupid cow.
Well Steve was frantic but still, no matter, he could not get relieved of duty. As it turns out, I did not have a stroke, but still the lesson was learned. No medical emergencies on duty days, because the Navy wants my husband planted firmly on the ship. OhhhhhhK.
Yeah. Back to recruiting. Life for a recruiter *is* the office. And nothing at home matters if they aren't making their quota. And bitching isn't going to bring home home any sooner the next night.
If you have had a day where the kids have been in your hair all day and your husband comes home, beat like a bad dog from a bad day & evening of work, you both need to blow off steam. Well his steam probably beats yours.
I mean, if the kids messed up 3 sets of clothes each and you have been doing wash all day and they spilled potting soil on the kitchen floor and before you could rejoice that it was only on the kitchen floor so you could easily sweep it up, the dog tracks it onto the carpet so now you have to vaccuum (again, since you already vaccuumed that day), and the kids are whiny because they, having spent 5 minutes using all 15 couch pillows to build a fort, are now bored, so you send them outside and they come in (hysterical) because they saw a snake ouside and are scared...well suck it up because you have a washer so it solves your laundry problem. And you havea broom and a vaccuum. And just pick up the couch pillows. Yeah it's more work but you know what? You don't have to worry about making goal, or potential recruits that lie about stupid stuff that disqualifies them from service and he has invested (and wasted) so much ime on them, and so on.
Like the needs of the Navy, the bitching of the Navy supercedes your bitching.
Two things to say: one, how sad is it that when my kids or my dog make a mess, I am happy if they do it on a surface that is easily cleanable? On the one hand I think it makes me look laid-back and willing to accept that kids make messes and not some uptight freak like Bree VandeKamp. On the other hand, Ithink it means I need a Mommy's day out of lunch & shopping or sightseeing. I need to get out of this house! (insert maniacal laughter at that prospect.)
And two, I don't want you all thinking that Steve tells me his venting outweighs mine, or that my days aren't hard. It is not a contest, to see who has had a lousier day. I don't get that vibe from him. These are just my observations as a Navy wife. I just can't wait til we are back in the regular Navy and then I can complain about silly 3-day underways.
What else? Anything new on our home front? Max is methodically chewing through the kids' toys. Heh. Less for me to pick up or trip over. I have also taught him how to "talk." I howl at him, he howls at me.
Jonathan and Katie start school in 3 weeks. Yay!!! Gee, I think I should call and enroll them...
I used to joke to Steve that he moved me to the Arctic tundra, because normally when we were living elsewhere we would go visit his parents and it would be freezing. So we move here and proceed to have the hottest summer I have ever endured in my 27 years. Yeah. Except now it is very chilly after sundown and in the morning. It is a nice relief but I told him this morning as I was seeing him off to work (love those working Saturdays) that he *had* moved me to the Arctic tundra. Cold in August? Sheesh!
I have gotten re-interested in scrapbooking, and that takes up some of my free time (and money). I am still cross stitching, crocheting and knitting. Yeah. I'm old. But when I am up to my knees in snow, I can stay inside and those activities will eat up the winter hours.
So that's about it for now.
I never doubted the word of all the wives who "did their time" before me. I just had no clue what it would be like. It is kind of like a woman preparing for the birth of her firstborn-she kinda knows what's coming but on the whole, has no clue what's in store. Then after the fact, she thinks, "Oh, so this is what those other women meant."
I dunno. I am so used to the regular Navy, the "real" Navy. Not to say this is skate duty or anything. I am just used to a large command, and being in a military community and I think that has been a difficult adjustment. I am used to Steve having 36 hour duty every 8 days, and I am used to underways of all sorts of duration. I am used to being surrounded by other military wives. And kids.
So where do I find myself? Primarily, alone. Steve works six days out of seven, and long hours. That is not a complaint, it is just how it is. It has, however, taken three months to stop being a complaint. There was definitely a period of adjustment. At first I would stare at the few wives I have met (count 'em, two) who say that they are grateful to have them home each night, no matter how late.
Heh. I would prefer he had duty every 8 days. Even with the fact that he would be gone during those 36 hours, there was a predictablility to his work routine, and I knew he would be home by 6 each night.
But now, I usually see him by 9 PM. But some nights he gets home by 7 or soand scares me. Our door is really quiet and the other night I had fed the kids and was just pulling chocolate chip cookie bars out of the oven. And the kitchen door opens, but of course I don't hear it and I turn around and there he was just looking at us. Scared the crap out of me.
I have really learned over the past few months that the needs of the Navy do come first, now more than ever. There is a joke among Navy wives that if the Navy wanted your Sailor to have a family, they would have issued him one with his seabag. In other words, the Navy owns your Sailor and don't complain about anything because they supercede you.
I thought I had learned that lesson many time over in the past 8 years, like when my husband was still made to stand duty when I was losing our baby. I had to have one neighbor take care of my kids, and another drive me to the ER.
Then there was the time that I had weird symptoms all day and evening, but (gotta love Tricare) I could not get a same day appointment. So I called the nurse line that evening and told her my symptoms, and got a stern lecture for not being seen that day. Hello, no appointments available? I told her the same symptoms that I told three other Tricare people that day, and she was the only one alarmed by them. She told me to get to the ER. It seems she thought I was having a stroke.
So again, with the neighbors for childcare and transportation, because Steve was on duty. And I called the quarterdeck, which was a feat in itself. Steve told me never ever to call unless it was life & death. I figured that the Tricare lady thought I was going to die, well, he deserved to know about it.
After some runaround with the yahoo at the quarterdeck claiming she could not find my husband (he is on duty you idiot, look at the duty roster, he is the only one on the ship with our last name, etc) I ended up getting a message to him. And I made the yahoo cry. Hello Seaman Stumpf! I'm talking to you! Stupid cow.
Well Steve was frantic but still, no matter, he could not get relieved of duty. As it turns out, I did not have a stroke, but still the lesson was learned. No medical emergencies on duty days, because the Navy wants my husband planted firmly on the ship. OhhhhhhK.
Yeah. Back to recruiting. Life for a recruiter *is* the office. And nothing at home matters if they aren't making their quota. And bitching isn't going to bring home home any sooner the next night.
If you have had a day where the kids have been in your hair all day and your husband comes home, beat like a bad dog from a bad day & evening of work, you both need to blow off steam. Well his steam probably beats yours.
I mean, if the kids messed up 3 sets of clothes each and you have been doing wash all day and they spilled potting soil on the kitchen floor and before you could rejoice that it was only on the kitchen floor so you could easily sweep it up, the dog tracks it onto the carpet so now you have to vaccuum (again, since you already vaccuumed that day), and the kids are whiny because they, having spent 5 minutes using all 15 couch pillows to build a fort, are now bored, so you send them outside and they come in (hysterical) because they saw a snake ouside and are scared...well suck it up because you have a washer so it solves your laundry problem. And you havea broom and a vaccuum. And just pick up the couch pillows. Yeah it's more work but you know what? You don't have to worry about making goal, or potential recruits that lie about stupid stuff that disqualifies them from service and he has invested (and wasted) so much ime on them, and so on.
Like the needs of the Navy, the bitching of the Navy supercedes your bitching.
Two things to say: one, how sad is it that when my kids or my dog make a mess, I am happy if they do it on a surface that is easily cleanable? On the one hand I think it makes me look laid-back and willing to accept that kids make messes and not some uptight freak like Bree VandeKamp. On the other hand, Ithink it means I need a Mommy's day out of lunch & shopping or sightseeing. I need to get out of this house! (insert maniacal laughter at that prospect.)
And two, I don't want you all thinking that Steve tells me his venting outweighs mine, or that my days aren't hard. It is not a contest, to see who has had a lousier day. I don't get that vibe from him. These are just my observations as a Navy wife. I just can't wait til we are back in the regular Navy and then I can complain about silly 3-day underways.
What else? Anything new on our home front? Max is methodically chewing through the kids' toys. Heh. Less for me to pick up or trip over. I have also taught him how to "talk." I howl at him, he howls at me.
Jonathan and Katie start school in 3 weeks. Yay!!! Gee, I think I should call and enroll them...
I used to joke to Steve that he moved me to the Arctic tundra, because normally when we were living elsewhere we would go visit his parents and it would be freezing. So we move here and proceed to have the hottest summer I have ever endured in my 27 years. Yeah. Except now it is very chilly after sundown and in the morning. It is a nice relief but I told him this morning as I was seeing him off to work (love those working Saturdays) that he *had* moved me to the Arctic tundra. Cold in August? Sheesh!
I have gotten re-interested in scrapbooking, and that takes up some of my free time (and money). I am still cross stitching, crocheting and knitting. Yeah. I'm old. But when I am up to my knees in snow, I can stay inside and those activities will eat up the winter hours.
So that's about it for now.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
The results are in...
STEVE MADE CHIEF! We just found out 5 minutes ago. I had to post real quick. Now, off to do some celebrating!!!
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