
Friday, April 27, 2007
The baby is standing on its head!

Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Just checking in
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!



Monday, April 02, 2007
Hello, baby!

Thursday, March 22, 2007
A mini vacation in Philly!
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.
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
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
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
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
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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.
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Ok so that's about it. I'll keep you posted.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Here I am!
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Thoughts about my grandmother's son.
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 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!
*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
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?
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
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.