No Google results. I wonder if I’m spelling her name correctly. I’ve been meaning to ask my mom if she knows anything of what happened to her. My mom probably knows her mom or at least still talks to someone who still talks to her mom.
Last week I remembered this best friend I had in kindergarten. I remembered her all these years. She moved to Michigan. After awhile, I realized I remembered her last name incorrectly (or as a 5 year old, I understood her last name to be something it wasn’t). I told J this in amazement. He responded, “Wow. Big surprise. You forgot something that was 23 years ago.” What a guy.
This weekend we went to the beach with the in-laws. Say no more- I recognize this was my first mistake. But to my defense, Good SIL was going to be there and, originally, Evil SIL was NOT. Last minute, Evil SIL decided to grace us with her presence. And grace us, did she ever. MIL, while generally less offensive, kept attempting to manipulate the course of my life in a way not even attempted by my own mother. My own mother at least has some semblance of her own life- even if the vast majority of it does involve People mag and Judge Judy!! In less than 24 hours, MIL told me about 4 times that having children 4 years apart is good (then why did she have her children 2 and 3 years apart, respectively?). She told me not to quit work because she worries about J having to “bear the large financial burden of [my] family.” As a preliminary matter, I intend to continue working. How is this her business again? The next morning I was ill-rested, had a sore throat, and tired of my in-laws (specifically 2 of them). I told her that what she tells me what to do- I plan on doing the exact opposite. She said, ‘So I should use reverse psychology on you?’ I responded, ‘Or how about no psychology?’ I don’t know how it was later received. I also don’t care. I cannot imagine growing up with her as my mother. Without respite. She also said to me during my 24 hour journey through insane-town, “I was starting to get a belly. I realized it was sugar. I like the sugar in wine so I cut out all the sugar in my diet except wine.” I later heard her telling this to Good SIL’s MIL (does this make sense). For some reason, I just want her to stop saying this out loud.
Good SIL’s mother in law came to help with the grandkids (gasp, I know- a grandmother who actually enjoys spending time w her grandkids).
Otherwise, my sweet Monkey was an angel. I’m at work now (this is probably a huge mistake and possibly the demise of my career but I missed blogging) and I MISS HER, as usual.
This is my 6th month of working.
Have I done enough bashing of MIL in this episode?
To her credit, I suspect that her intentions aren’t evil. I cannot say this about Evil SIL. I think MIL is just not that smart. Or, rather, she could be smart, but she chooses not to use her brain, if that makes sense. And she definitely drinks too much. I love me some alcohol, but I don’t get so drunk that I slur my speech every night. So, I can say that I care about her and I definitely pity her. But I’m not sure why. She’s weak and cries easily. But that might just be the hangover.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
Ramblings
I always see these statistics that are like "1 in 4 adults have been molested, etc.."
I was never molested by an adult.
But I was coerced into weird "show and tell" games with kids my own age.
Did I ever blog about that German family that lived down the street? Well there were 2 kids, Yocum (sp?) and Stephanie. Stephanie was older and Yocum was probably about only 2 years older than me. I vaguely recall following him and my brother around, and I have a memory of walking home with my childhood best friend from the bus stop and telling her that he was my boyfriend. Yocum never formally asked my 5 year old a$$ out- but we did see each other naked (well, only the interesting parts). I was 5, he was 7. I suppose I've always had a thing for slightly older men.
Our laundry room was in the basement and my mom was I believe folding clothes out of the dryer. Yocum and I were behind the door- No clue why. He pulled down his pants and then asked if I would pull mine down. I asked him why his "thing was sticking up (!!! Can you believe this!!! I'm sort of embarassed to even write this on my blog. But I was totally baffled, as I'd only seen my brothers naked in the bath and we've always kept it clean, thankfully). I told him no, as my mom was right there. He told me she'd never know. Apparently, that was all it took because my pants were down to my knees about 5 seconds later. Then it was over. Life resumed.
It happened again one other time and I asked him why it wasn't sticking up this time. He said he didn't know. I was disappointed. Haha. Ahh, what a gal. Drivin' hard bargains from day 1. I was never a victim to his perversions again after that point and I couldn't have cared less.
I told J this story and he relayed to me a story about how when he was like 8 he was hanging out with his older sister's friend one time and he asked her if she wanted to see him naked. She responded, 'I don't care.' He felt shot down.
I think the only ones with p*enis envy are those with p*enises!
At around that time, I also loved my babysitter, Jody, who lived up the street. She was 14. I thought 14 would be such a cool age. For me, it was filled with zits and my creepy awkward body and being a huge dork. But for her it was smoking cigarettes and being cool around the neighborhood. She's the one who told me what s*x was and said her two friends had s*x at the park the other night. (Hmm... I think I definitely wrote about her before. I love her, she's totally worth 2 entries). She used to get scared after we'd go to bed and asked me to wake up and hang out with her. I remember sitting downstairs in my nightgown trying to keep my eyes open while we played Mario Bros. She asked me if I wanted a pudding pop and I declined. Then we both fell asleep on the floor in the living room. I remember my mom coming home all dressed up and being really happy to see us. I also remember one time my little brother went to bed and woke up screaming. I feel like Jody was mad at him or something and I tried to convince her that he saw a face coming at him in the dark and that we should all be very concerned.
Anyway, when I was 13 or so, I saw her in the bathroom at the mall. She was wearing so much make-up and her bangs were super super high. I think she was smoking too. She was looking in the mirror and we made eye contact through the mirror but didn't say anything. I think she recognized me. My friend and I walked out and I felt sad that she turned out the way she did- and I didn't even know how she turned out. I'm going to go Google her now.
I was never molested by an adult.
But I was coerced into weird "show and tell" games with kids my own age.
Did I ever blog about that German family that lived down the street? Well there were 2 kids, Yocum (sp?) and Stephanie. Stephanie was older and Yocum was probably about only 2 years older than me. I vaguely recall following him and my brother around, and I have a memory of walking home with my childhood best friend from the bus stop and telling her that he was my boyfriend. Yocum never formally asked my 5 year old a$$ out- but we did see each other naked (well, only the interesting parts). I was 5, he was 7. I suppose I've always had a thing for slightly older men.
Our laundry room was in the basement and my mom was I believe folding clothes out of the dryer. Yocum and I were behind the door- No clue why. He pulled down his pants and then asked if I would pull mine down. I asked him why his "thing was sticking up (!!! Can you believe this!!! I'm sort of embarassed to even write this on my blog. But I was totally baffled, as I'd only seen my brothers naked in the bath and we've always kept it clean, thankfully). I told him no, as my mom was right there. He told me she'd never know. Apparently, that was all it took because my pants were down to my knees about 5 seconds later. Then it was over. Life resumed.
It happened again one other time and I asked him why it wasn't sticking up this time. He said he didn't know. I was disappointed. Haha. Ahh, what a gal. Drivin' hard bargains from day 1. I was never a victim to his perversions again after that point and I couldn't have cared less.
I told J this story and he relayed to me a story about how when he was like 8 he was hanging out with his older sister's friend one time and he asked her if she wanted to see him naked. She responded, 'I don't care.' He felt shot down.
I think the only ones with p*enis envy are those with p*enises!
At around that time, I also loved my babysitter, Jody, who lived up the street. She was 14. I thought 14 would be such a cool age. For me, it was filled with zits and my creepy awkward body and being a huge dork. But for her it was smoking cigarettes and being cool around the neighborhood. She's the one who told me what s*x was and said her two friends had s*x at the park the other night. (Hmm... I think I definitely wrote about her before. I love her, she's totally worth 2 entries). She used to get scared after we'd go to bed and asked me to wake up and hang out with her. I remember sitting downstairs in my nightgown trying to keep my eyes open while we played Mario Bros. She asked me if I wanted a pudding pop and I declined. Then we both fell asleep on the floor in the living room. I remember my mom coming home all dressed up and being really happy to see us. I also remember one time my little brother went to bed and woke up screaming. I feel like Jody was mad at him or something and I tried to convince her that he saw a face coming at him in the dark and that we should all be very concerned.
Anyway, when I was 13 or so, I saw her in the bathroom at the mall. She was wearing so much make-up and her bangs were super super high. I think she was smoking too. She was looking in the mirror and we made eye contact through the mirror but didn't say anything. I think she recognized me. My friend and I walked out and I felt sad that she turned out the way she did- and I didn't even know how she turned out. I'm going to go Google her now.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Pukester
The daycare called me at work today to inform me that Monkey was less cheerful and had a cough. Considering my throat has felt like it was on fire for the passed few days, this surprised me not.
I picked up Monk & off we went. In the waiting room, I let Monkey play with my cell phone. I then saw a funny glimmer in her eye. I then saw projectile vomit shoot out of her mouth and land all over my work pants. I realized that I would not be returning to work. Monkey looked at me and smiled.
I felt like this should put us into the fast lane at the doctor, but it did not. We waited for another 25 minutes. Jackie again threw up all over my pants and on the floor. I had nothing to clean it up with. I had no change of clothes (for either her or me). No diaper. No burp clothes. Nothing. Monkey is usually so chill, all she needs is me and a pacifier. By the time we saw the doctor, both of us were covered in vomit and smelling like stomach acid. So hot. People in the waiting room were looking at me like I should be doing something more. I kind of felt like I should be doing more too. But what was I going to do? Pull out some yarn and knitting needles and start creating a cloth with which to wipe up all this gooey vomit? I just sat there sort of holding Monkey awkwardly with a confused look on my face.
Have I learned my lesson that one must be a bit more prepared as a mother? Probably not. Will I start to travel with more baby gear? Probably not.
I picked up Monk & off we went. In the waiting room, I let Monkey play with my cell phone. I then saw a funny glimmer in her eye. I then saw projectile vomit shoot out of her mouth and land all over my work pants. I realized that I would not be returning to work. Monkey looked at me and smiled.
I felt like this should put us into the fast lane at the doctor, but it did not. We waited for another 25 minutes. Jackie again threw up all over my pants and on the floor. I had nothing to clean it up with. I had no change of clothes (for either her or me). No diaper. No burp clothes. Nothing. Monkey is usually so chill, all she needs is me and a pacifier. By the time we saw the doctor, both of us were covered in vomit and smelling like stomach acid. So hot. People in the waiting room were looking at me like I should be doing something more. I kind of felt like I should be doing more too. But what was I going to do? Pull out some yarn and knitting needles and start creating a cloth with which to wipe up all this gooey vomit? I just sat there sort of holding Monkey awkwardly with a confused look on my face.
Have I learned my lesson that one must be a bit more prepared as a mother? Probably not. Will I start to travel with more baby gear? Probably not.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Rudeness
I found out yesterday that the mother of a secretary ("R") here at work died in a car accident here in town when she was 4. She's now in her mid-thirties (I think). I can't stop thinking about it. HOW SAD! And her dad raised her and her older sister and finally remarried a few yrs ago. R is SOOOOO nice. I cannot emphasize this enough.
I am obviously obsessed with this story as I have a daughter and I want nothing more than to know her for a very very very very long time (duh). But I am obsessed nonetheless.
Does the mother know what happened? (I recognize this falls into the realm of the afterlife, etc.. and for that I do not apologize) If so, is she sad? Does she miss R? Has she been able to see R? How devastated would she be if she knew early on in her life that she would never see R & R's older sister grow up? It's SO SAD to think of all she's missed (if she did, in fact, miss it). R said she's still close to her mother's family.... but it is not the same.
Just yesterday my mom was over watching Monkey on her day off. I came home for lunch & they were having a blast. Then I returned from work and we went shopping and out for dinner. I feel so blessed for this opportunity and I'm so sad that R & her mom do not have that.
I obviously cannot handle stories like these. They are too upsetting. I wonder if I will always be so sensitive to such things or if it is temporary due to having a baby (either environmental or hormonal or something) & eventually I will be able to hear of such things and think, "Life can be unfair" and then move on with my day. As of now, I hear of a story like this and start tearing up. And then I think of it every 10 minutes for the next few days before I am finally able to slowly forget about it.
A client was rude to R this morning. I heard this while sitting in my office. I wanted to run out of my office and say, 'Do you KNOW that her mother died when she was 4? How dare you treat her that way, a$$hole!' I suppose I have a soft spot for orphans! Me, Walt Disney, and everyone who saw Bambi. Oh, and whoever wrote all those Shirley Temple movies (Have you seen those? They are the saddes thing ever. My gma bought me the box set when I was young and I would just sit there crying while watching them.) Heck, the rude client probably has a soft spot for orphans too. He just didn't know that she (kind of) fell into that category.
I suppose for all I know, the client was rude bc he received bad news this morning. Like his brother is terminally ill and his job is in limbo and his wife is having an affair. Who knows?
I guess this is all just another lesson in that fact that the way people treat you has very little to do with you, and everything to do with them.
I am obviously obsessed with this story as I have a daughter and I want nothing more than to know her for a very very very very long time (duh). But I am obsessed nonetheless.
Does the mother know what happened? (I recognize this falls into the realm of the afterlife, etc.. and for that I do not apologize) If so, is she sad? Does she miss R? Has she been able to see R? How devastated would she be if she knew early on in her life that she would never see R & R's older sister grow up? It's SO SAD to think of all she's missed (if she did, in fact, miss it). R said she's still close to her mother's family.... but it is not the same.
Just yesterday my mom was over watching Monkey on her day off. I came home for lunch & they were having a blast. Then I returned from work and we went shopping and out for dinner. I feel so blessed for this opportunity and I'm so sad that R & her mom do not have that.
I obviously cannot handle stories like these. They are too upsetting. I wonder if I will always be so sensitive to such things or if it is temporary due to having a baby (either environmental or hormonal or something) & eventually I will be able to hear of such things and think, "Life can be unfair" and then move on with my day. As of now, I hear of a story like this and start tearing up. And then I think of it every 10 minutes for the next few days before I am finally able to slowly forget about it.
A client was rude to R this morning. I heard this while sitting in my office. I wanted to run out of my office and say, 'Do you KNOW that her mother died when she was 4? How dare you treat her that way, a$$hole!' I suppose I have a soft spot for orphans! Me, Walt Disney, and everyone who saw Bambi. Oh, and whoever wrote all those Shirley Temple movies (Have you seen those? They are the saddes thing ever. My gma bought me the box set when I was young and I would just sit there crying while watching them.) Heck, the rude client probably has a soft spot for orphans too. He just didn't know that she (kind of) fell into that category.
I suppose for all I know, the client was rude bc he received bad news this morning. Like his brother is terminally ill and his job is in limbo and his wife is having an affair. Who knows?
I guess this is all just another lesson in that fact that the way people treat you has very little to do with you, and everything to do with them.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Baptism and Change
Today my neighbor (the woman) dashed outside today when I arrived home. She had been waiting for me. Turns out- they're moving. They live on the other half of our twin.
She said, 'I wanted to tell you first before you saw the For Sale sign in our yard.'
I responded, 'No! I hate change.'
She said, 'I know. Me too. I keep walking around the house and sighing.'
I said, 'We never even got a chance to get together' (totally the fault of J & myself for being anti-social and pregnant and a pregnant anti-social)
She said, 'Well, we're only moving up the street.'
I said, 'I know. But I'm still sad to see you guys go.'
She said, 'I know. I am sad too.'
J isn't sad. haha. In typical J fashion, he was just interested in which house they bought and for how much and if they'd have an open house so we could check out their supposedly dry basement. He hates sharing a house, but it makes me feel safe. They're like a super pure family. Perhaps that's why I was kind of freaked out when I heard them having s*ex that one time. No. That was EXACTLY why I was freaked out.
I'm REALLY gonna miss their dog.
Onwards and upwards.
This weekend Monkey gets the special oils on her heads- she's being baptized. I couldn't be more proud of my little cubby bear. The priest requires either letters proving that the godparents are Catholic or essays on why you chose who you chose. They're not f*cking around.
Did I mention Monkey turned 7 months on Saturday? I can't believe it's only been 7 months! She eats baby food and rolls around and is developing opinions about things. Because I have zero experience in this area, I'm completely amazed at every development. I'm like the village idiot over here.
This is why her baptism should be interesting (and also probably why we should have done it sooner). An infant just sleeps or cries or sits there quietly. A 7 month old can blow raspberries, yelp, make noises, and grab sh*t. AND cry. But I can tell you what she will NOT do during her baptism: SLEEP. Miss Nosy will be awake and wearing her heart on her sleeve through facial expressions.
She said, 'I wanted to tell you first before you saw the For Sale sign in our yard.'
I responded, 'No! I hate change.'
She said, 'I know. Me too. I keep walking around the house and sighing.'
I said, 'We never even got a chance to get together' (totally the fault of J & myself for being anti-social and pregnant and a pregnant anti-social)
She said, 'Well, we're only moving up the street.'
I said, 'I know. But I'm still sad to see you guys go.'
She said, 'I know. I am sad too.'
J isn't sad. haha. In typical J fashion, he was just interested in which house they bought and for how much and if they'd have an open house so we could check out their supposedly dry basement. He hates sharing a house, but it makes me feel safe. They're like a super pure family. Perhaps that's why I was kind of freaked out when I heard them having s*ex that one time. No. That was EXACTLY why I was freaked out.
I'm REALLY gonna miss their dog.
Onwards and upwards.
This weekend Monkey gets the special oils on her heads- she's being baptized. I couldn't be more proud of my little cubby bear. The priest requires either letters proving that the godparents are Catholic or essays on why you chose who you chose. They're not f*cking around.
Did I mention Monkey turned 7 months on Saturday? I can't believe it's only been 7 months! She eats baby food and rolls around and is developing opinions about things. Because I have zero experience in this area, I'm completely amazed at every development. I'm like the village idiot over here.
This is why her baptism should be interesting (and also probably why we should have done it sooner). An infant just sleeps or cries or sits there quietly. A 7 month old can blow raspberries, yelp, make noises, and grab sh*t. AND cry. But I can tell you what she will NOT do during her baptism: SLEEP. Miss Nosy will be awake and wearing her heart on her sleeve through facial expressions.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
I love a/c
As a preliminary matter, my hair didn't fall out. It looked better than usual actually. This face also turned out to be the highlight of my bad week (aside from Monkey trying carrots and loving them).
1. Our a/c died. Ironically, that morning (Monday) I left work to run some errands and was sweating bullets. I entered my building & as I rode the escalators I thought, "Thank God for air conditioning. I don't know what I'd do without it." We spent the next 3 days without it.
2. Our upstairs toilet had some kind of leak. For a day or so, I was busting on J bc I thought he was peeing at night and missing the toilet. Nope. Toilet broke. Got that baby fixed.
3. We have an infestation of mosquitos out our back door. I've killed about 20 with my bare hands (desperate times...)
4. Now the REAL kicker. A big shot t my firm "strongly suggested" I head to my firm's main office to schmooze in the nearby city. I figured I'd get up there at 9, work til noon, do lunch, work til 4- all in all I'd get at least 6 hours of work in. Instead I am taken around floor to floor to meet every person in that office. I felt like I was interviewing for the job I already have. This would be fine if I didn't have a ton of work to do. The drive home took 2 hours (rush hours) and by the time I got home, I wasn't doing ANYTHING.
OMG I'm so freaked out. Monkey just woke up and I'm looking at her right now through our video monitor and SHE IS LOOKING BACK!!!! Do you watch True Blood? Member last season where everyone's eyes turn completely black? That's what she looks like through the monitor!! EEKS. She knows.
Gotta get her. I will blog more soon.
1. Our a/c died. Ironically, that morning (Monday) I left work to run some errands and was sweating bullets. I entered my building & as I rode the escalators I thought, "Thank God for air conditioning. I don't know what I'd do without it." We spent the next 3 days without it.
2. Our upstairs toilet had some kind of leak. For a day or so, I was busting on J bc I thought he was peeing at night and missing the toilet. Nope. Toilet broke. Got that baby fixed.
3. We have an infestation of mosquitos out our back door. I've killed about 20 with my bare hands (desperate times...)
4. Now the REAL kicker. A big shot t my firm "strongly suggested" I head to my firm's main office to schmooze in the nearby city. I figured I'd get up there at 9, work til noon, do lunch, work til 4- all in all I'd get at least 6 hours of work in. Instead I am taken around floor to floor to meet every person in that office. I felt like I was interviewing for the job I already have. This would be fine if I didn't have a ton of work to do. The drive home took 2 hours (rush hours) and by the time I got home, I wasn't doing ANYTHING.
OMG I'm so freaked out. Monkey just woke up and I'm looking at her right now through our video monitor and SHE IS LOOKING BACK!!!! Do you watch True Blood? Member last season where everyone's eyes turn completely black? That's what she looks like through the monitor!! EEKS. She knows.
Gotta get her. I will blog more soon.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Hair Dye and the Risk Involved
Okay, right now I'm experiencing something weird. Now it's no secret that I dye my hair blonde (it's naturally a fine, dishwater blonde). I'm sitting here with dye on my head (I dye my hair myself) and it is burning like a motherf*cker. It never used to burn this much.
Options:
1. Wash out the dye immediately because you may be having an allergic reaction and/or your hair might frizzle up and fall out.
or
2. Risk it.
Obviously, I am going with Option 2. Who knows? My next 6 months might be dedicated to blogging about my attempt to regrow my busted locks.
J's out on errands, so I did the unthinkable and let the dogs in our bedroom. The golden retriever is laying on the bed licking the sheet (the part with which I wiped Monkey's lips in stealth after a bottle bc I couldn't find a bib). The beagle is getting her feet wet in the shower and then plodding along on our carpet.
Options:
1. Wash out the dye immediately because you may be having an allergic reaction and/or your hair might frizzle up and fall out.
or
2. Risk it.
Obviously, I am going with Option 2. Who knows? My next 6 months might be dedicated to blogging about my attempt to regrow my busted locks.
J's out on errands, so I did the unthinkable and let the dogs in our bedroom. The golden retriever is laying on the bed licking the sheet (the part with which I wiped Monkey's lips in stealth after a bottle bc I couldn't find a bib). The beagle is getting her feet wet in the shower and then plodding along on our carpet.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Update
I vow to get my own computer soon.
So the orthopedic surgeon seemed to think everything seemed fine at this point but they want to check up on her in 10 months. But J & I aren't entirely convinced because something really does feel uneven or off. And once you notice it, it's really difficult to NOT notice it. So it wasn't a situation where we were like, 'GREAT! Didn't think anything was wrong, now I can stop worrying." It was more like, '.........Ok..... if you say so.....' I plan on keeping an eye on it to see if it normalizes, so to speak or if it worsens. At the very least we at least know that her vertebrae are formed correctly. Poor monkster- I'm digging at her back every chance I get.
In other news, I volunteered to legally represent children under the age of 10 who have no parents or parents who are neglectful or abusive. I was assigned my first child today- he was born June 23, 2010 to a drug-addicted mother who has since disappeared on the streets. His father told the state that he cannot care for the baby, and nobody can get in contact with any other relatives. I meet the little bugger on Wednesday. I am SO EXCITED. It'll probably be a really easy representation- I'll check out the foster parents' home, meet the baby & determine that the baby is in fact safe, etc... That will be good for the baby. How sad is this situation? The next time I get down about things that are surmountable or begin to pity myself, I have to think about this little guy. Absolutely all odds are stacked against him, and here he is. No relatives to coo over him, no family friends bringing him gifts, nobody excited about his birth, nobody staying up half the night worried that he will fall victim to SIDS and stop breathing, nobody fretting about whether they are putting him at a disadvantage by not breast-feeding him until he is 17.... I asked J if we could adopt him. J responded, "Are you f*cking crazy???" J likes to play the tough, heartless guy. But I know once J laid eyes on him, he would feel differently.
So the orthopedic surgeon seemed to think everything seemed fine at this point but they want to check up on her in 10 months. But J & I aren't entirely convinced because something really does feel uneven or off. And once you notice it, it's really difficult to NOT notice it. So it wasn't a situation where we were like, 'GREAT! Didn't think anything was wrong, now I can stop worrying." It was more like, '.........Ok..... if you say so.....' I plan on keeping an eye on it to see if it normalizes, so to speak or if it worsens. At the very least we at least know that her vertebrae are formed correctly. Poor monkster- I'm digging at her back every chance I get.
In other news, I volunteered to legally represent children under the age of 10 who have no parents or parents who are neglectful or abusive. I was assigned my first child today- he was born June 23, 2010 to a drug-addicted mother who has since disappeared on the streets. His father told the state that he cannot care for the baby, and nobody can get in contact with any other relatives. I meet the little bugger on Wednesday. I am SO EXCITED. It'll probably be a really easy representation- I'll check out the foster parents' home, meet the baby & determine that the baby is in fact safe, etc... That will be good for the baby. How sad is this situation? The next time I get down about things that are surmountable or begin to pity myself, I have to think about this little guy. Absolutely all odds are stacked against him, and here he is. No relatives to coo over him, no family friends bringing him gifts, nobody excited about his birth, nobody staying up half the night worried that he will fall victim to SIDS and stop breathing, nobody fretting about whether they are putting him at a disadvantage by not breast-feeding him until he is 17.... I asked J if we could adopt him. J responded, "Are you f*cking crazy???" J likes to play the tough, heartless guy. But I know once J laid eyes on him, he would feel differently.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Speed Bump
While leaving the daycare the other day, one of the younger girls (who LOOOOVES Monkey) ran over to my car. She told me she notice something off about Monkey's back. I had never noticed. She showed me. There WAS something a little off. She told me she told the powers that be at the daycare but wanted to be sure that they actually told me "because Monkey is [her] girl." Needless to say, I love this girl for looking out for my baby.
Took her to the dr yesterday & the dr agreed that something seemed to be amiss around her lower back. It didn't seem exactly straight.
Today we're taking her for x-rays and seeing a specialist at the children's hospital.
This could be something or it could be nothing.
True to my natural inclinations, I've concluded time and time again that it's the worst case scenario. But I'm trying to realize that I can't control everything. And also that I don't want to be the type of mother who expects her children to be the parent- and this involves being at least a little bit rational. We'll see.
Took her to the dr yesterday & the dr agreed that something seemed to be amiss around her lower back. It didn't seem exactly straight.
Today we're taking her for x-rays and seeing a specialist at the children's hospital.
This could be something or it could be nothing.
True to my natural inclinations, I've concluded time and time again that it's the worst case scenario. But I'm trying to realize that I can't control everything. And also that I don't want to be the type of mother who expects her children to be the parent- and this involves being at least a little bit rational. We'll see.
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