Cookies don’t look good coming back up.

About 2am Kyle sat straight up in bed, looked at me and then threw his cookie up all over the bed, then the floor outside the bathroom, the bathroom mat, his blanket, his PJ’s and the shower curtain.  Yes, I said the shower curtain.


Jason woke as I was cleaning up the mess and helped out then took Ivy, who of course woke just as I finished the clean up and settling Kyle back in bed.   I was so thankful but a little guilty because I knew he’d only just gone to bed himself.  I curled up with sad little Bug and started to fall back to sleep.


Now this isn’t the first time he’s been sick to his stomach but it’s the first he decided to try and do something to feel better.  In this case it was to go lie down in Daddy’s because because obviously mommy’s bed was making him sick.


I’ve been home with both kids since about 11am when I was able to leave work and pick the kids up at the sitter.  Who, by the way, didn’t blink about kid puke.


I’m blogging about this because it occurred to me going into work today that it always seems like you get sick in the middle of the night. I really don’t remember going to suddenly puke in the afternoon, or right at dinner.  Ok, once after I was forced to eat breakfast but I woke up feeling like I was sick so it doesn’t count.


It seems like the only time a person can possibly start throwing up is when it’s dark and doing laundry is a giant pain in the arse for everyone.  Though I’m actually glad Bug was in my bed because it’s closer to the bathroom and I was there to get him out of bed quickly instead of him vomiting all over the hall to the bathroom.


As a side note, I’d like to know why cats decide 3am when puke fest is slowing down is a great time for attention.  Also, does anyone want a friendly cat with extremely bad timing?




This came as no surprise.

For a while now I’ve been debating if Kyle’s level of activity and energy is above  normal for a boy.  Let’s face it, when your kid suddenly starts jumping up and down while just watching tv and he can’t tell you why you wonder.  While a lot of kids his age and boys in general are more challenging let’s say, I started to realize that sometimes what we see him doing at home and in day care is a little above the norm.


The biggest concern we had was when he started school.  He’s been so excited to start 4K and make new friends and learn new things we didn’t want to see it ruined for him.  I so want to see him make friends and enjoy going to school.  You know until he hits middle school and loses his mind to hormones.


His behavior has also become a safety issue.  Running into the street, not staying where he’s told and climbing on things that aren’t safe.  Oh and hitting or biting other kids.  They tend to get a little testy and hurty back about that.


So J and I took him to see someone and he acted just like we wanted him too.  Sweet but a bundle of movement.  And as if to announce his intentions to act that way he insisted on wearing his t-shirt with a train on it that says “In Constant Motion.”   He climbed the furniture, tried to read the books, ran trains into the wall and pawed through the desk drawers.  In short, he was Kyle.


The diagnosis?  ADHD which is more about the activity level than just not being able to sit still so to speak.  I had never thought a child that young could be diagnosed but while speaking with the doctor I began to realize that he’s always  acted in ways that pointed to it.  Even his biting stage fit because he has a hard time regulating his emotions or reactions to them.


No, we won’t be putting him on the meds.  He’s far too young and the side effects with him could be a bit more dangerous because of his age and his size.  I also don’t think the meds should be a place to start or the only tool we have.  I want to learn how to help him as he is before we go down the road to giving him a daily pill, or two.  Also, I have a hard enough time getting him to take his Flinstone’s.  Trying to get him to swallow an actual pill would make mommy need to up her Paxil.


Bottom line?  Kyle is a funny, sweet, active boy who’s a boy.  He plays in dirt and runs around like a mad man.  I don’t want to change who or what he is I just want to help him learn to be himself without needing to jump over his chair for a few hours.

I confess

I have to confess I am probably one of the worlds worst bloggers. Even when I was younger I’d start a diary and keep it for a while then just stop writing in it. I guess it was partly knowing someone might read my most personal thoughts and realizing those thoughts were boring as hell is what always did it.

In this case it’s the discipline to sit down and do it that’s lacking. Oddly right now discipline is the word of the king in this house as Bug is currently making me think I might possibly be speaking in some odd language that I only think is English, that he cannot understand.

So far this second pregnancy has made a lie of my first trimester statement that “I don’t even feel pregnant”. The pregnancy of Jelly Bean is officialy high risk as my blood pressure decided to stay elevated. The good news is that it’s not pre-eclampsia.  It is however not the ideal.

The last month and a half has been spent attempting to “take it slow” while I go to weekly doctor appointments, bi weekly non stress tests and blood work every few weeks. I should have my own parking spot at Suk’s office, or at least be included in the Drug Rep lunches.

All this has shown that my daughter is growing well despite my BP.  It also means she’ll miss being pre-mature by a week. I’m going to be induced in 10 days to avoid actually going into the danger zone.

So, there’s going to be a new face at the Thanksgiving table this year and Bug is waiting to his baby sister to arrive. He’s got his own baby he’s taking care of, when he’s not sitting on it’s head.  He’s also been looking over the tiny things going into his room. I give him 3 days before he asks if we can take her back to Target.

Just when you think it’s all good.

After answering the question “how’s this pregnancy going?” and telling everyone that this time around has been going great and I hardly feel pregnant 24 weeks and 5 days threw a wrench on things and my blood pressure ended up putting me on bed rest for almost a week and a “short leash” (quote the doctor), for the foreseeable future with the promise of more bed rest if my blood pressure goes back up.


When we spoke about having another child we figured we’d give it a chance, it had been so hard with Bug and we really expected to spend a few months trying and half expected to still be one child parents at the end of it.  Never in a light year had either of us expected to find out we were going to have another baby after two months.


After the positive pregnancy test, ok 6 tests, I geared up to puke for the next 9 months but that didn’t happen either.  I didn’t get so tired I feel asleep at 4am, I didn’t spend hours obsessing over certain foods.  Just food in general.   The pregnancy was what every women dreams of for herself.   Sure the doctor and I both talked about watching my BP, we figured it “might” happen but neither one of us really expected it to happen until it did.


On the whole I’m so lucky that it looks like I’ll just end up on meds and close monitoring the rest of my pregnancy it really could be so much worse and I remind myself of that.  It’s still annoying as hell though.


It’s hard to realize until you can’t anymore how often you get up during a lazy day.  I mean, it’s easy to think it’ll be fun to do nothing until you need a cup of water or get hungry.  Then it gets annoying.  Because asking for a cup of water or a sandwich when you’re over 5 makes you feel a little, well, like you can’t take care of yourself.  It’s even worse when you know your bathroom needs to be cleaned or the cats need water.


This all started though just went I figured nothing could really go wrong.  I was moving along, gaining little weight, working out and enjoying my almost mom squared status.  I had always thought if my BP was going to go up this time it would go up way earlier.  I never saw this coming.  Things had been going too great.  The monthly appointment was almost boring with the lack of issues.  I was more concerned about the bother of going into labor at Thanksgiving.   Now I’m just shooting for Thanksgiving.


I’ll take this though because  at the end of it I get a little baby girl to dress in pink and purple and sparkles.

You’d think “go home, get into bed” would be good news.

While I was pregnant with Bug my BP was high.  It was high through the whole pregnancy and fairly consistent so my doctor watched me and we took it a visit at a time.    This time around I’m much thinner, eat much better, work out and drink lots of water so watching my BP was really a caution given my history.

Or so I thought.   On Thursday I developed contractions that would start if I was on my feet more than 20 to 30 minutes at a time.  On Saturday a headache that wouldn’t go away took hold.  I took it easy all weekend, well as easy as one can with a 3 year old bouncing off of walls can.

Today after a call to my doctor she suggested that I should come in to get my BP checked because the headache worried her much more than the contractions which she thinks are probably round ligament paint.  Personally I’m thinking more Braxton Hicks.   Not that this at all matters.

I go to her office and a nurse takes me to a room and takes my BP, she goes to show it to the doctor who then wants a urine sample.  You know that can’t really be a good thing right?  After a cup of water and a few moments of waiting the nurse has what she needs and comes back to see me after Doc has gone over that with the BP.
The verdict?  Go home, bed rest until Wednesday when I have another appointment.  She’s pretty sure this is only a precaution and that after a few days off my feet my BP will go down.  I really hope so because, let me tell you, the idea of a doctor telling you that you can’t cook or clean is really awesome.  The reality is that I don’t have a maid or a live in nanny.

And you know, you really don’t realize how much you do during the average day at home until you can’t.  Do you know how long it actually takes to cook a box of mac n cheese?  Or how long it really takes to shower?  Luckily I’m not on total bed rest so I can get up, go to the bathroom, shower and chill on the couch.  I cannot imagine how bad it would be if I couldn’t even get up to get a glass of water on my own.  Kudos for you mom’s who have.

In the mean time,  Jelly Bean is gonna stick tight and has been having a fantastic day rolling around in her mommy’s tummy.  And I’m making the mistake of watching the food network.

I haz a sad

A while back I posted something about the women who’ve made my life better simply by reading me on line.  They’ve been my friends for so long I can no longer imagine my life without them and the wonderful things they’ve brought into my life over the years.


Yesterday I learned that one of the members of a small private board I am on passed away, suddenly, on Thursday.  She was young and healthy.  She simply fell over at her keyboard and passed on, it was that fast.  I knew her, but not as well as so many others.  She and I had very different takes on the world,  my views more conservative while hers were more open and free.  But she made me laugh and think during out interactions.  She once signed into one of my private diaries just because the title amused her and she had to read about the person who’d say such a thing.


They don’t know how she passed yet, or why, at home with her sons.  This is one of those times where you sit stunned staring at your screen not knowing what you could possibly say.  It also makes you wonder, how many more people you touched without ever really knowing who they were.  I only knew her in passing yet she was so outrageous and funny that I couldn’t help but enjoy her and feel sad by our loss.


Rest well Stinkerbell.

A difficult blog to write

For years I’ve hidden a crippling anxiety problem from my family and friends.  For as long as I can remember I would feel panicked, rushed, depressed and the need to hide from rational and not so rational things.  I must say I hid it very well.

For years I’d hear people remark on my temper or my soft heart but never on my worries.  I hid or managed it in  so many ways, from smoking, to my online life, to my RPG’s to my books and my abortive writing, I managed it, I hid in other worlds, with other people, in some cases as someone else.  I was able to do that until it went away or I soothed it into the back of my mind.

That’s changed.  My anxiety has gotten so bad in the last few months I am physically ill more often than I care to think about.  In the past month it’s been one wave after another wave of panic attacks.  Sometimes my issues are totally normal every day ones, is my son healthy, will my parents be ok, is my husband safe.  Other’s are not, am I going to lose my job, will we have food.

Before this massive ramping up of my anxiety I was more positive than I’d been in a long time, I could see the light at the end of the debt tunnel, I’d quit smoking, I was doing well at work (and getting along with the women I work with).  Even with the struggles we’d been having with Kyle he was doing very well in his speech therapy and it looked like we may have found someone who could handle the biting and was literally on the way to and from work for Jason and I.

Then this.  Something popped back up that I had though was taken care of.  90% of me knows that this will work out, the other 10% is in such a panic I honestly don’t know how to stop it anymore.  New meds, actually taking the old ones.  Working to a solution and reminding myself of the lesson last week at church.  Faith.  I have to have faith that He will provide.  No, that doesn’t mean I’m going to sit on my fat butt and wait for Him to have a truck full of money drive up, but I need to have Faith that He will not let Kyle starve or my family go homeless.  I have to remind myself that in the past He’s always helped us though.  And we’ve been in much, much worse spots than this.

Still, admitting, much less posting, about something so personal as my anxiety issues is, well, scary.  Part of the reasons I’ve hidden it for so long is because they just isn’t a lot of sympathy for people like me.  It’s not easy to explain to someone that you are so scared of something mundane that you have to force yourself not to flee it.  It’s not easy to admit you actually need medication to deal with everyday normal things.  I hate it so, so much.

Coupled with anxiety/panic is depression.  That makes sense huh?  I mean, you’re always worried that the absolute worse thing in the world is going to happen so you’re probably going to be pretty damn depressed about it.  I’m not sure what’s worse, the depression or the anxiety.  Both have their good and bad points.  With the depression I get the ability to have a really good afternoon nap but I feel like I am useless for taking the nap.  With the anxiety I have a really clean house and organized laundry but the inability to leave my home without a pep talk.

Why am I writing this then?  Because I need to get the words out.  I need to tell my 4 readers that I’m never as calm as I appear, that there is always fear, worry and panic just below the surface.  The only exception to this is parenting Kyle.  When it comes to him I worry about his welfare, how to make sure he has the basics and Christmas, but as for loving him, teaching him and raising him I don’t have a moment of panic.  I worry I don’t teach him enough or play with him enough, but I know of all the things that I do each day being his mom is the one thing I have confidence in.