Some weird happenings over the last few weeks.
I was dizzy for a couple of days in a row for no apparent reason.
I've been nauseas on and off for two weeks, and moody as hell.
Last Wednesday night, while Jason was away, I was even more lonely and sad than I usually am when he's traveling for work. I just needed him, but he wasn't here.
I sobbed off and on for ten hours after Nathan did a new autistic-y thing (he flapped his hands) during his therapist's visit. And when he woke at 10:30pm, asking to be hugged and re-tucked, I went in and held him like my life depended on it - so not like me. Normally, we adhere to a strict "Good night, I won't see you 'til morning unless you barf or the house is on fire" policy.
I wanted a lot of bologna-and-potato chip sandwiches.
Last Thursday morning, I had the weirdest feeling that my boobs were a little bigger than usual. And that's when I decided to buy a pregnancy test.
You may remember that Mad was home sick with me at the end of last week - boy, does that make shopping for a pregnancy test interesting. ("Mom, what is that?") I bought a box of two just in case and went home, wondering how I was going to manage to pee in private. The first test gave me a plus sign. No way! I had to pee again almost immediately, so I took the second test. Also a plus sign. Gulp!
Later, after grabbing Annabelle from school, I brought the kids to buy another box of pregnancy tests, a different brand this time. Maybe EPT was pranking me, but First Response would be on the level. When we got home with my purchase, Jason was there - he'd returned early from his trip. I stealthily peed on the third stick while the kids surrounded him and regaled him with stories of the last 24 hours. Two pink lines.
Yup, I'm pregnant.
I told Jason, and the first thing he said was, "I thought so. I noticed that your boobs were a little bigger."
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
An interesting email
A few weeks ago I received an email from Autism.
How strange to receive a communique from an enigmatic developmental disability! I am a little afraid to open the email, and especially the attachment - I've heard of people receiving viruses via email, but this is ridiculous!
Friday, September 25, 2009
Friday Follow-Up follow-up
Hi there! Just thought I'd let you know that Mad has strep throat.
I knew that you were all on pins and needles wondering about this, and I didn't want to ruin your weekends with worry and suspense. So, now you know!
She's doing fine, though - says her throat doesn't even really hurt and is watching more Barbie movies in a row than I want to acknowledge publicly.
Have a good weekend!
KP
P.S. Know what I had for breakfast today? Two Oscar Mayer bologna and potato chip sandwiches on Wonder bread. With yellow mustard. Yum!
I knew that you were all on pins and needles wondering about this, and I didn't want to ruin your weekends with worry and suspense. So, now you know!
She's doing fine, though - says her throat doesn't even really hurt and is watching more Barbie movies in a row than I want to acknowledge publicly.
Have a good weekend!
KP
P.S. Know what I had for breakfast today? Two Oscar Mayer bologna and potato chip sandwiches on Wonder bread. With yellow mustard. Yum!
Friday Follow-Up
Hey, kids, gather 'round! It's Friday Follow-Up time!
As you can see, I'm in a weird mood. It's been a weird week. I got some unexpected feedback after writing about my inability to accept that life isn't fair. I thought I came off as a nutjob, obsessing about free pancakes and peewee football players, but I actually received quite a bit of support from all of you. Enablers!
I'm still waiting for my cookbooks to arrive. I ordered them all from different vendors through Amazon, so each book will arrive in a separate box, on a separate day. I'm so excited - next week will be like Hanukkah! (I've always envied Hanukkah...) I love having a project that doesn't involve any actual work. First, I'll put the books in order on the coffee table in the family room. Then, I'll grab my little Staples organizer that's filled with different colored flags and Post-Its. And with feet up on the couch and garbage TV on (Hi, Melrose Place 2.0!), I will pore through each book, marking every recipe that looks bland and uncomplicated enough with flags, following an as-yet-to-be-determined recipe organizing system. Then, I'll add the keepers to my Better Homes and Gardens Recipe Organizer Binder. I suppose at some point I should add another phase to my project: Cooking The Meals. But that's a ways off - I can't just start cooking recipes randomly! Must organize first. And lord knows how long that will take...
Oh, and speaking of my cookbook post, I got a comment that used an abbreviation: FTW. I had NO IDEA what that meant, and couldn't get it from the context of the comment, the way I might translate an unfamiliar word while reading a novel. Embarrassingly, I had to Google it. Turns out that it was a complimentary bunch of letters, meaning "for the win." What you're supposed to do is write something that's good or that you liked and then add FTW to the end. So Noodle Mom could message me something like, "You made boxed spaghetti for dinner tonight? Huh. I made spinach ravioli with homemade marinara. And hand-churned ice cream with berries FTW."
And finally, I want to let you know that Mad is still out of school, thanks to that party guest who won't take the hint that it's time to go home, Mystery Fever. We're heading to the pediatrician's office in about 10 minutes to see WTF is causing her to have a fever for three days. (See? I do know some acronyms all on my own!) She seems to be doing better today, which is great, but man, is it weird having a kid around the house during a time when you're not supposed to have a kid around the house. Even Nathan has these little programs that he goes to during the day, so I had been used to not having to answer to anyone for at least an hour on most days.
Talk to you Monday!
Kelley
P.S. I craffed yesterday. For like an hour. I'm not telling you why, but thought you'd like to know that yes, I really do Craff Out Loud.
As you can see, I'm in a weird mood. It's been a weird week. I got some unexpected feedback after writing about my inability to accept that life isn't fair. I thought I came off as a nutjob, obsessing about free pancakes and peewee football players, but I actually received quite a bit of support from all of you. Enablers!
I'm still waiting for my cookbooks to arrive. I ordered them all from different vendors through Amazon, so each book will arrive in a separate box, on a separate day. I'm so excited - next week will be like Hanukkah! (I've always envied Hanukkah...) I love having a project that doesn't involve any actual work. First, I'll put the books in order on the coffee table in the family room. Then, I'll grab my little Staples organizer that's filled with different colored flags and Post-Its. And with feet up on the couch and garbage TV on (Hi, Melrose Place 2.0!), I will pore through each book, marking every recipe that looks bland and uncomplicated enough with flags, following an as-yet-to-be-determined recipe organizing system. Then, I'll add the keepers to my Better Homes and Gardens Recipe Organizer Binder. I suppose at some point I should add another phase to my project: Cooking The Meals. But that's a ways off - I can't just start cooking recipes randomly! Must organize first. And lord knows how long that will take...
Oh, and speaking of my cookbook post, I got a comment that used an abbreviation: FTW. I had NO IDEA what that meant, and couldn't get it from the context of the comment, the way I might translate an unfamiliar word while reading a novel. Embarrassingly, I had to Google it. Turns out that it was a complimentary bunch of letters, meaning "for the win." What you're supposed to do is write something that's good or that you liked and then add FTW to the end. So Noodle Mom could message me something like, "You made boxed spaghetti for dinner tonight? Huh. I made spinach ravioli with homemade marinara. And hand-churned ice cream with berries FTW."
And finally, I want to let you know that Mad is still out of school, thanks to that party guest who won't take the hint that it's time to go home, Mystery Fever. We're heading to the pediatrician's office in about 10 minutes to see WTF is causing her to have a fever for three days. (See? I do know some acronyms all on my own!) She seems to be doing better today, which is great, but man, is it weird having a kid around the house during a time when you're not supposed to have a kid around the house. Even Nathan has these little programs that he goes to during the day, so I had been used to not having to answer to anyone for at least an hour on most days.
Talk to you Monday!
Kelley
P.S. I craffed yesterday. For like an hour. I'm not telling you why, but thought you'd like to know that yes, I really do Craff Out Loud.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
How I spent $50 on Amazon.com
I did this very grown-up thing the other day: I used my $50 Amazon birthday gift card to buy a bunch of cookbooks.
Yup, cookbooks. I haven't even told Jason yet - he'll go into hysterics when I tell him. And then he'll suggest some things I should have bought instead, things I'd actually use. You see, I am not a natural in the kitchen. I think it's mainly because I'm a picky eater who doesn't like things with too much flavor or too many ingredients. Oh, and I also hate being wet, which means that all of the veggie-handling, the washing and the slicing, is nearly intolerable to me. I hate to cook, and I stink at it.
Or do I? Come to find out, for the past four years that we've lived in this house, our oven has been broken. Some kind of heating element flake-out has been causing it to slowly lose its ability to heat properly. So all those times I tried to make the meatloaf recipe that was stuck to the ground beef package, the one that said it took 45 minutes to cook, maybe it wasn't still raw inside after 70 minutes because I Can't Cook. Maybe it was the oven's fault. (We don't need to get into why it took me FOUR YEARS to figure this out.)
Maybe, just maybe, now that Jason has fixed the oven, and now that I will be the proud owner of 9 new cookbooks in the next 10-14 business days, I can cook.
I told you that I bought a food processor. It's actually still disassembled because I couldn't figure out how to put it all together, even though they thoughtfully included a "How to Assemble Your Food Processor" diagram with labeled parts. But once I remember to ask Jason to put it together for me, I am totally going to start using it. I can't even imagine how, or to do what, but I promise you that I am going to use that thing. I bought a wide-mouth version because it says "Less pre-cutting!" in a large, jaunty font on the box. Sold!
The inspiration for that particular purchase was Noodle Mom. One night when I went over to her house for a beer, I was shocked and awed to see her nonchalantly moving zucchini muffin goop into muffin tins. Naturally I was impressed by her feat of from-scratch baking, which is the stuff of legend in my house, but then another thought occurred to me: how do you get from an oblong, whole zucchini to surprisingly unrepugnant zucchini muffin mix?
The question stuck with me, unanswered, until the day I was at Target, looking for ways to spend money in a way that could be disguised as Being A Good Wife and Mother, when I stumbled upon the wide-mouth food processor. In my mind I saw a zuccini moving in slow motion toward the plastic opening of the food processor...and it all suddenly started to make sense.
And soon I'll have the cookbooks to talk me through the finer points.
P.S. Get a load of some of the names of the books I bought - they are guaranteed to increase your heart rate and cause sweat to bead your forehead:
Desperation Dinners
The 5:30 Challenge: 5 Ingredients, 30 Minutes, Dinner on the Table
Quick Meals For Healthy Kids and Busy Families
Busy People's Super Simple 30-Minute Menus: 137 Complete Meals Timed For Success
The Frantic Woman's Guide To Life: A Year's Worth of Hints, Tips, and Tricks
Don't they make you feel like you've got to go change into running shoes? I didn't do much research on the books; I just interpreted the "busy and quick" theme as "lazy" and ran with it.
Yup, cookbooks. I haven't even told Jason yet - he'll go into hysterics when I tell him. And then he'll suggest some things I should have bought instead, things I'd actually use. You see, I am not a natural in the kitchen. I think it's mainly because I'm a picky eater who doesn't like things with too much flavor or too many ingredients. Oh, and I also hate being wet, which means that all of the veggie-handling, the washing and the slicing, is nearly intolerable to me. I hate to cook, and I stink at it.
Or do I? Come to find out, for the past four years that we've lived in this house, our oven has been broken. Some kind of heating element flake-out has been causing it to slowly lose its ability to heat properly. So all those times I tried to make the meatloaf recipe that was stuck to the ground beef package, the one that said it took 45 minutes to cook, maybe it wasn't still raw inside after 70 minutes because I Can't Cook. Maybe it was the oven's fault. (We don't need to get into why it took me FOUR YEARS to figure this out.)
Maybe, just maybe, now that Jason has fixed the oven, and now that I will be the proud owner of 9 new cookbooks in the next 10-14 business days, I can cook.
I told you that I bought a food processor. It's actually still disassembled because I couldn't figure out how to put it all together, even though they thoughtfully included a "How to Assemble Your Food Processor" diagram with labeled parts. But once I remember to ask Jason to put it together for me, I am totally going to start using it. I can't even imagine how, or to do what, but I promise you that I am going to use that thing. I bought a wide-mouth version because it says "Less pre-cutting!" in a large, jaunty font on the box. Sold!
The inspiration for that particular purchase was Noodle Mom. One night when I went over to her house for a beer, I was shocked and awed to see her nonchalantly moving zucchini muffin goop into muffin tins. Naturally I was impressed by her feat of from-scratch baking, which is the stuff of legend in my house, but then another thought occurred to me: how do you get from an oblong, whole zucchini to surprisingly unrepugnant zucchini muffin mix?
The question stuck with me, unanswered, until the day I was at Target, looking for ways to spend money in a way that could be disguised as Being A Good Wife and Mother, when I stumbled upon the wide-mouth food processor. In my mind I saw a zuccini moving in slow motion toward the plastic opening of the food processor...and it all suddenly started to make sense.
And soon I'll have the cookbooks to talk me through the finer points.
P.S. Get a load of some of the names of the books I bought - they are guaranteed to increase your heart rate and cause sweat to bead your forehead:
Desperation Dinners
The 5:30 Challenge: 5 Ingredients, 30 Minutes, Dinner on the Table
Quick Meals For Healthy Kids and Busy Families
Busy People's Super Simple 30-Minute Menus: 137 Complete Meals Timed For Success
The Frantic Woman's Guide To Life: A Year's Worth of Hints, Tips, and Tricks
Don't they make you feel like you've got to go change into running shoes? I didn't do much research on the books; I just interpreted the "busy and quick" theme as "lazy" and ran with it.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Sick, not scamming
Mad seemed fine all day, so I was feeling like maybe I'd gotten played by a six-year-old. I chided myself for keeping her home, and I even assigned her the chore of cleaning out and organizing her dress-up clothes (which she did, fabulously).
Then at dinnertime I picked up my "little scammer" to give her a giant hug, and I noticed that she felt warm. Sure enough, she's got a fever of 101.
Moms, always trust your first instinct! I was right to have kept her home, to have believed her initial claim of not feeling well, vague as it was.
I'm going to go point at myself in the mirror and say, "In your FACE, self-doubter!"
Then at dinnertime I picked up my "little scammer" to give her a giant hug, and I noticed that she felt warm. Sure enough, she's got a fever of 101.
Moms, always trust your first instinct! I was right to have kept her home, to have believed her initial claim of not feeling well, vague as it was.
I'm going to go point at myself in the mirror and say, "In your FACE, self-doubter!"
Sick or scamming?
I woke up this morning 45 minutes before the alarm went off. Usually this is a total bummer, right, because you can't fully relax and get back to sleep knowing that the alarm is coming for you real soon. But today I was filled with energy and optimism about the day ahead. I felt rested and ready to roll!
After getting Jason's clothes ready for work and doling out peanut butter bagels to the kids, I turned back to the ironing board and ironed my workout clothes. (Stop with the snickering - I have issues about wrinkles, okay?) Today is the day that my self-defense class meets, and I was so ready to go kick the crap out of those bags after missing last week's class. I even shaved my legs in the shower and remembered to apply deodorant.
And then, just after Jason's car pulled out of the driveway, and just before I marched the kids out to the van for the ride to school, Madeleine broke down in tears. She was curled up in a ball on the hand-me-down chair in the living room with Puppy Dog, her stuffed friend, thumb in mouth, cheeks red, and eyes moist. Annabelle was exasperated - "What's her problem?" I, on the other hand, was moved to float over to her on mom wings and scoop her up close to me.
"What's the matter, honey?"
"I don't feel good," she replied in the tiniest voice.
"Aw, honey. I'm sorry to hear that. What is it?"
She shrugged, and then, when it became apparent to her that I needed more than nothing for an answer, she added, "It hurts here," and pointed vaguely to what could have been her chest or her stomach.
Hmmm. Mom, M.D. kept prodding for more details, but got nothing else out of her other than a faint claim of nausea and a request that I take her temperature.
Now I can almost see you right now, shaking your head in disapproval as you guess that I ended up keeping her home from school. (I did.) You think I've been scammed. I admit that it is a possibility. BUT! Mad did mention to me right away this morning that she didn't feel good, and she barely touched her breakfast, which was usually such a favorite that only a bowl of Princess Glitter Choco-Sugar Smacks could have topped it. (I can see the execs at General Mills right now - "Johnson - it's brilliant! Get this woman on the phone and buy her off. We'll start manufacturing in the morning!")
And then there's this: Mad loves school. If she loved her teacher any more, she'd be a Lifetime movie creep. She wakes up every morning with excitement and enthusiasm, brimming with compliments about her teacher and friends. Except for today.
So I bought into it and kept her home. In my defense, I had to make the call on my own - Jason had just left, remember - and in a flash because it was time to go to school right then.
And she is such a cute little peanut. I'm a sucker for a cute little peanut.
Maybe there was the teensiest little spring in her step when I suggested that she lay down on the couch and watch TV. Maybe I can hear her singing happily with Nathan right now as I type. Maybe I got scammed. But don't scorn me! I'll have to miss my kicking ass class again this week, and I got a wicked dirty look from Annabelle as I dropped only her off at school this morning. I'm already paying for my (possible) mistake.
After getting Jason's clothes ready for work and doling out peanut butter bagels to the kids, I turned back to the ironing board and ironed my workout clothes. (Stop with the snickering - I have issues about wrinkles, okay?) Today is the day that my self-defense class meets, and I was so ready to go kick the crap out of those bags after missing last week's class. I even shaved my legs in the shower and remembered to apply deodorant.
And then, just after Jason's car pulled out of the driveway, and just before I marched the kids out to the van for the ride to school, Madeleine broke down in tears. She was curled up in a ball on the hand-me-down chair in the living room with Puppy Dog, her stuffed friend, thumb in mouth, cheeks red, and eyes moist. Annabelle was exasperated - "What's her problem?" I, on the other hand, was moved to float over to her on mom wings and scoop her up close to me.
"What's the matter, honey?"
"I don't feel good," she replied in the tiniest voice.
"Aw, honey. I'm sorry to hear that. What is it?"
She shrugged, and then, when it became apparent to her that I needed more than nothing for an answer, she added, "It hurts here," and pointed vaguely to what could have been her chest or her stomach.
Hmmm. Mom, M.D. kept prodding for more details, but got nothing else out of her other than a faint claim of nausea and a request that I take her temperature.
Now I can almost see you right now, shaking your head in disapproval as you guess that I ended up keeping her home from school. (I did.) You think I've been scammed. I admit that it is a possibility. BUT! Mad did mention to me right away this morning that she didn't feel good, and she barely touched her breakfast, which was usually such a favorite that only a bowl of Princess Glitter Choco-Sugar Smacks could have topped it. (I can see the execs at General Mills right now - "Johnson - it's brilliant! Get this woman on the phone and buy her off. We'll start manufacturing in the morning!")
And then there's this: Mad loves school. If she loved her teacher any more, she'd be a Lifetime movie creep. She wakes up every morning with excitement and enthusiasm, brimming with compliments about her teacher and friends. Except for today.
So I bought into it and kept her home. In my defense, I had to make the call on my own - Jason had just left, remember - and in a flash because it was time to go to school right then.
And she is such a cute little peanut. I'm a sucker for a cute little peanut.
Maybe there was the teensiest little spring in her step when I suggested that she lay down on the couch and watch TV. Maybe I can hear her singing happily with Nathan right now as I type. Maybe I got scammed. But don't scorn me! I'll have to miss my kicking ass class again this week, and I got a wicked dirty look from Annabelle as I dropped only her off at school this morning. I'm already paying for my (possible) mistake.
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