Friday, February 25, 2011

$3,000 Balloon?

One of the grocery stores around here gives free balloons to children if you ask. This is great because Michael is a freak when he sees balloons and throws a giant fit because I won't buy them for him. So it's so great they they give them away (it's our Gerbes, which is the local Kroger chain, FYI) otherwise grocery shopping would be ugly.

So we went shopping on Tuesday. Michael got a blue balloon as seen here.


Tuesday was such a lovely day. Michael napped great. He was happily playing with the buttons on the washing machine when I took the picture. I was totally in the moment watching Michael delight with the chime of every button. A few minutes later Daddy got home and walked in the door just behind Michael. We were all so happy. That seemed like the best day ever.

Then the next day... Michael was trying to conquer sleep again and I was doing my best to get him down. I heard the cats playing in the living rooms as I nursed Michael in his room, no big deal. I finally got Michael down and left (this is at least an hour long activity). I found the balloon on the floor, but the bottom half of the ribbon and clip were gone. I immediately tried to find the other half. I found it in the next room, but about 2 feet worth of ribbon was missing. Shit. Neither cat showed signs of guilt, but I'm almost sure Ambrosia was the culprit. I couldn't do anything be feel a lump slowly go down my own throat.

Then Michael woke up (after being down for ~15 minutes) so I went to deal with him completely unsure of what to do. I honestly don't know what the time line was, but it was probably 2 hours between the cats attacking the balloon and me calling the vet.

Since it had been more than an hour he didn't think making her vomit would be useful. He offered preemptive surgery but recommended 'wait and see'. I think that is the best approach because I can't be 100% that Ambrosia ate it. And she could pass it just fine. Or not.

I decided to try the puke method anyhow. That was useless.

So I've been in a state of miserable guilt for the last couple days. It's my fault, I left the balloon out. I make sure they can't get stuff like that if we are leaving the house but I didn't put it up while I was trying to take care of Michael in the next room. And Ambrosia is notorious for trying to eat inedible things, so I should have known.

I hope, upon hopes, that it passes easily (assuming that it was eaten). So far I've not seen any signs of an issue, but we still haven't seen it exit either of them. I check each cat every couple of hours by picking them up and pressing their tummies and checking for signs of discomfort. So far nothing. They were allowed to stay upstairs with us the last 2 nights, but I think we will put them back downstairs tonight so they don't get too accustomed to staying up.

So we are still waiting and seeing.

A friend of mine had to have exploratory surgery done on her cat. It cost her $3,000 (turns out the cat swallowed several hair elastics). I sure hope that if we do have to do surgery it comes in cheaper than that, but I'm sure it will be expensive no matter what. If we get though this I might consider buying some pet insurance.

Here are the two little furballs cuddling minutes ago in Muffy's old basket. Currently Ambrosia is attacking me with her overly aggressive cuddling (very normal).



I'm such a dumbass.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Michael, Conqueror of Sleep

I was going to write a post about getting locked out on the deck today with Michael (the door knob broke) and implementing important survival skills like how to skin a cat and diaper a baby with the pelt, but I'm pooped.

Michael has been on a war path with sleep all week. I think he's teething. He has a slight fever. He's been waking up at night all week and refusing to nap all day. It came to a head today.

I knew that Michael was not going to go to bed tonight.

After thoroughly nursing, Michael decided that I would make a good jungle gym. I had it at that point. I don't mind spending almost an hour every night nursing him to sleep, but I ain't a pacifier and I ain't a jungle gym.

I tucked him in and left. Hysterics ensued. Came back in 3 minutes and tucked him in again (he was standing at the end of the crib). Hysteria. Vomiting.

Michael vomits at the drop of a hat. He is an expert puker. We hadn't been going at this for 5 minutes yet when he puked. But lucky us, he was standing at the end of the crib and puked out on the carpet. Better on the carpet than in the crib.

I came back in and tucked him in again. I came in one more time to do it and he was out about 30 seconds after I left the room. It took about 10 minutes all together.

Do I hate that it had to get to this point? Yes, very much. Do I feel bad that he puked? God yes, horrible. Did he need to f-ing go to sleep? YES. Have I been trying nicely to get him to sleep all day? GOD YES.

Some days I feel like such an awful parent. Some days I know that others judging from the outside would think I am an awful parent too. Well, good for them, I'm glad that they think they can do it so much better than me. I suck, you are superior, you win, here's your medal. My kid sleeping is my medal.

I just hope he makes it through the night. I can dream, can't I?

Monday, February 14, 2011

Happy Valentine's Day to ME

Well, tonight is not going to be the Valentine's Day night that I had planned.

You could have knocked me over with a feather this morning when I saw that after a year and 2 weeks of postpartum bliss, my period came back. I believe my exact words were, "What the hell is that?"

Although I doubted that she would be returning on her own I shouldn't be so surprised. All the signs were there, but I've had those signs a lot since giving birth and if I had a nickel for every time I thought I was going to get my period by now I could get oatmeal cream pie from a vending machine.

There was some nostalgia for the TTC days as I dug under the sink to retrieve my feminine protection. But we definitely do not plan on TTCing again for awhile... like a year at least. But I am glad that she came back on her own because I will be due for my yearly soon and I really didn't want to have to get a prescription to induce a period.

Any guesses to how long my cycle will be? I've always had a long luteal phase, so maybe 30 days... or maybe 6 months. Whatever at this point.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Mama Drama

I have been agonizing on posting again, hence the silence. I haven't been able to think of anything coherent to post about and then I resolved earlier today to just pick something and go with it. Then my problem solved itself with some mama drama. My mother more specifically.

Against my better judgement I asked my mother to come up and watch Michael for the day. I wouldn't have but I was going to have to do something all day for unemployment and DH couldn't take off. So with my other MIL 4 hours away under a layer of ice I asked my mom to come. But she was so good at his birthday the other day that I thought maybe we were turning a corner. Wrong. (stupid, stupid amanda)

She came up last night because we were expecting more snow. Last night was fine. Michael had some gas and was a little extra clingy because it woke him up from his nap and he was tired, but otherwise it was fine. She brought him a teddy bear. He loved it.

This morning was pretty good. I was a little annoyed when Michael woke up a 5:15am (like normal) and while I was going to the bathroom before getting him my mom got him out of the crib. No big deal, except she didn't turn off his crib motion monitor and set it off scaring him and sending ripples through the whole house before the crack of dawn. But once that was taken care of things were fine. I got Michael to nurse and he actually went down for a nap just before I left (perfect timing!).

Then I found out the thing I was going to should only take a couple of hours and I wouldn't be there all day. Then it only actually only took a half hour. I talked to the guy there for a while and that was interesting. Then I got home and he'd only been awake for about 15 minutes.

Since it was snowing and she'd come all the way to help I insisted that she stay as long as she wanted and she could even stay the night if she didn't want to drive home but around lunch time the snow was stopping and she was saying that she'd thought that she would leave. I asked her to eat before she left to give the road crews a little more time to work. And we had a lovely lunch while Michael gave us flirty eyes and at some cut up grapes.

Then we were playing with Michael on the floor and he was banging the stick and wood block from his birthday gift and my mom was going on about what a smart baby he is. My kid can bang two objects together, he is obviously a genius! But then she made a mention about my (2 year old) nephew being stupid. I defended the poor kid. I don't think he's dumb. He was slow to talk and is getting some speech therapy (and is showing a lot of improvement already). That doesn't make a kid dumb. Whose to say that Michael won't need speech?

But that was just her jumping off point to bitch about my SIL. My mom has hated my SIL since the great Christmas incident of 2009. Then she went from my SIL to my sister throwing me under the bus somewhere in there too. Yelling, crying and cussing. (Yes, dropping the F-bomb in front of Michael.) All of it everyone else's fault. She has never done anything wrong to anyone. And I should 'just wait until Michael does something like that to hurt me!' Ok crazy bitch. Just Start digging your own grave if you think I will put up with that crap from you.

I found out she basically picked a fight with my sister at Michael's birthday party too. I figured she had when my sister came up to me and was leaving all of a sudden, but knowing the deep level of dysfunction within my family I didn't even bother asking. It was nice to have that confirmed. But my mom basically got mad at me (sobbing and angry with me) for inviting people that would ruin her time with her grandson. Um, no. I laid it down right there. I'm not going to 'not invite' a family member just because you don't want me to (because you can't resist picking a fight).

The whole thing was just a ridiculous spectacle, like all of my fights with my mother. If I had been anywhere other than my own house I would have taken Michael and left but I wasn't going to leave my own home. I couldn't very well kick her out so I just held my tongue (for the most part) and played with Michael.

If she wants to talk to me like that, fine. But she is not allowed to do that in front of Michael. I really want to cut her out of our life but there are so many complicated emotions that I can't really see myself doing it. And what if I needed her in an emergency? I'm too pragmatic for my own good sometimes. I've got some shit to sort through.

And we'll be seeing her Friday because we agreed to visit my Grandma at the nursing home for their Valentine's day dinner. Joy. I would renege but my Grandma is doing pretty badly and I do think it's important to see her.

Also... feel very strongly that her presence and the anxiety (not to mention the yelling) caused Michael to go on a what appears to have been a very short lived nursing strike. I don't want to go into the details of what the issues were today because that's a post in itself, but thankfully he allowed me to nurse him to sleep like normal. Now I'm debating whether I should still pump my partially engorged breast. I hate pumping.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Blizzard

Just waiting out this blizzard.



(You can barely see the snowman from my last post in the front yead.)