Monday, December 12, 2005

not for the squeamish


Saturday was supposed to be my fun day...as it was, I wish I'd just stayed in bed that day. I woke up that morning feeling sick in the throat and had to cancel going to a party that afternoon and my catch-up with Shanna that evening. When I started feeling a little better, Mike and I decided to take the kids for a walk around the neighborhood and to play at this park near our house. On the way back from the park, Mike and I were rambling on about the future as many of our conversations while we walk lead to this subject and out of nowhere, my foot was pierced (I felt a crunch) by this very sharp, very rusty, very long carpenter nail that was discarded in front a newly-constructed house. The theory that we have is that the stroller flipped the nail up and my foot amazingly smashed down at just the wrong moment. I had never had anything like this happen before, so how are you to know what to do? My(and Mike's) first reaction was to try and pull it out. Unfortunately, the shoe had a death grip on the nail and it wouldn't budge. Next, Mike called my parents and frantically told them to "just come" not giving them any details as to why they heard my crying/hyperventalating in the background. They thought we had been hit by a car or something, of course. Trey was also upset by this point saying, "mommy doin? oh no!"(this of course made me cry even harder) Once they arrived, my mom drove me to the ER and Mike, my dad and the boys all met me there. To remove the "subcutaneous foreign body", first they had to cut the shoe(they couldn't pull the nail through the shoe or it might have gotten stuck and relodged in my foot. At this point, I didn't care what they did...i can always buy new shoes) Next, they gave me a tetnus shot, sedated(with morphine and something else) me to the point where I no longer knew anything I was doing besides the breathing excercises I learned for childbirth. Then, they gave the ol, "one, two, three, PULL!!" move and it was out! When I got home, Trey noticed my foot and asked, "booboo?" It's exactly what I mentioned in a previous entry, honed missiles!!! Now at least he says, "booboo? no no no". Anyhow, I just wanted to pass this little fun day along for all of you and let you know that I am now part of that elite group who have been impaled by a nail. I know you are oh-so-jealous!! I put these pictures on here to memorialze the event and to thank my mom in advance for all the help she is going to give me this week while I, like batman, will hobble. I also want to say that Mike has been amazing, too. He took care of everything this weekend and helped me so much in the hospital. It was like giving birth all over again. He is a great partner. Ok, that's enough for today.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005


May your foot(and unfound hand) rest in peace Batman. Upon discovering Batman(his current beloved object perhaps only second to "key") with a severed-at-the-ankle foot, Trey was somewhat confused..."oh no...baaman...kay, baaman? Kay??" I actually think he found the foot first, which is kind of sick. Being the equal-opportunity mother I fancy myself to be, I don't want him to think Batman is out of commission simply because he has to hobble...I just say, "look, batman can still run! runrunrunrun!" (and then I realize that I truly have become insane so that my children can be sane) This seems to be another one of those life lessons we run accross from time to time...kind of like the time his balloon got away and floated at warp speed into the heavens. He talked about that one for weeks, "oh no...where boon go?" Maybe that kind of loss is the most he's ever experienced...oh the finality of it!!
To this day, when he sees a balloon, he'll mention it, saying, "uh-oh. where boon go?"

I've put a picture on here of Abe and his trusty index finger. A few weeks ago, I noticed him just sitting in his high-chair with it fully extended. It just looks so bizarre to me...like it has a mind of it's own. He's not even really thinking about doing it, but it looks as if he's checking to see where the air currents are headed. All of the resteraunt pictures on here are from Chili's. It's sad when your 22 month old assumes you are going to eat every time you get in the car to go do something. It's even sadder when you pull into the chili's or cracker barrel parking lot and they squeal with delight, saying, "EAT!!!" I'm a good mom in other ways... I promise!!

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Friday morning in Florida and I finally turned the heat on for the first time today. I guess I felt a little guilty yesterday when the babies woke up with frostbitten toes and noses (Trey hates wearing socks to bed...I have a suspicion that he enjoys running the tag of his cherished blanket through his toes as his nightly ritual...oh the quirks of toddlerdom!)

Lucky Mike is off to Epcot on a school trip today. Originally I was going to meet up with him there, but it all got too complicated to coordinate how Abe was going to get his milk(In case you didn't notice in my earlier chronicles, he really doesn't take the bottle as I'd hoped). So, for this trip, I won't get to enjoy the Epcot delights(mostly I just go for the food in each country...oh and that sweet girl in Japan who makes those bird candles.."a beak, tweet, tweet". I could stand and watch her for minutes!) One day, we will brave the theme parks with kids in tow, but I have no death wish to do that any time soon. Long waits and even longer whining present a mammoth hurdle in my mind.

In the dental frontier of my life, I got 2 fillings yesterday and am still a little sore today. As I lay there in the torture chair looking at the dead bugs in the florescent lights(why don't they clean those! ? As if a patient has trust in you when faced with death...even if it is bugs!?) I thought to myself, "at least those wasps don't have to get a shot in the gums!" Why is it when you have any kind of medical procedure, your children are like honed missles targeting that area? Same thing when I had a c-section...a knee to the incision...and this time, an elbow or headcrash into the exact point of pain in the jaw. Well, I guess all of this dental pain could be to remind me of the pain of cutting teeth. Poor dears don't even know that it will get better. They just assume that life as they know it will continue with tooth pain and endless drool! I suppose I should explain some of the pictures on here. Starting from the top: a classic example of Trey during his day...pantsless(he's found he likes to pull them off now...nonstop fun!), chewing on something(probably chose the flower because he knows he's not supposed to chew on the identical ones we have in baby class at church...classic defiance...like I care if he chews on the one at home without the germs!)while trying to manuever himself into an im possibly tight chair (he is, probably like most toddlers, constantly experimenting with these types of situations, if there is a way to accomplish the seemingly impossible(even if it means bruises and blind will), he is going to do it). Although, I'd like to say that I'm always open to these kinds of learning experiences(by the way, this example is as tame as they come...I won't have the camera out taking pictures when we find that he's cut his tongue with a razor while "brushing his teeth"), I'll have to admit that most of time, I approach the situations with a little more skepicism(as only mothers can, i suppose).
The rest of the pictures are fairly self-explanatory. As you can see, we started the christmas festivities promptly after the annual fatfest(see other family picture around the thanksgiving table). Trey and Abe love(and I mean relish) the christmas lights and decorations. Nothing is better to really enjoy the holidays than to spend it with awe-struck children. There is also a picture of Abe, in sheer playing concentration. Mike and I were just commenting yesterday on how much we love when he is sitting upright...belly full and pooched. The last picture here of him is when he crawled into the kitchen. He likes to find himself in there so that he can kick the cabinets as hard as is possible for a baby (see earlier sentence about babies hurting my sore jaw). Well, for all of you who have suffered through this incredible saga of a blog entry, I applaud you for enduring my meanderings. Ta-Ta!