Thursday, August 7, 2008
It's lovely, I'll take it!
If you are ever having one of those days when you feel your house is a mess, you've found a leak in the basement or a crack in the drywall, then head over to It's Lovely, I'll take it! to feel better about your situation. I promise you will at least smile and probably laugh out loud at least twice, especially if you read "How I Spent my Summer" by the Chair" (click here). Hope you are having a great day and go ahead and give your house/apartment/trailer a little love and appreciation for not being listed here.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Mommy needs a time out
There is no doubt I love being a mother, but every so often, even Mommy needs a time out. Monkey has been sick, teething, and generally not thinking too highly of sleeping, napping, or eating right now. On top of that, poor Hubs is also sick and I sprained my already stress fractured foot, buying myself five more weeks in my lovely orthopedic walking boot. I had a perfect evening of hanging out in the steamy shower with Monkey to clear up his congestion, then the Hubs fed him so I could enjoy a nice long shower (hands down the cheapest form of relaxation in my opinion), and I got to feed and tuck Monkey in. After that I was off on my time out, complete with a an ice cold Pepsi, a quick stop by Walmart, and a little drive with my windows down, singing Joshua Radin's "Sky" and "Lovely Tonight" loud and off key. I think a lot of us feel guilty at times asking for the things we need, but I know that I was probably a much more pleasant person by the time I got home and although I was only gone for about an hour, it was precious time I needed to refuel. So, to me, time out isn't always a bad thing :).
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Thanking my lucky stars
Today Monkey had an appointment with a neurologist about the size of noggin. During Monkey's 6 month check up his pediatrician was concerned because his noggin was measuring off the charts (just housing a big brain, right :)?). To be on the safe side, she ordered him to have an ultrasound through his soft spot since it was still open. The ultrasound reading was unclear, which meant on to a CT scan. I kept Monkey up all morning and kept him entertained since he couldn't eat or drink to avoid having to be 
sedated and he slept through it like a champ. We got a call from our pediatrician that night that the radiologist had read his CT and everything looked fine. Big sigh of relief...until the next morning. The radiologist said that she'd gone home and thought more about his scan, had another radiologist look at it and although they didn't see anything like a tumor or mass, they felt an MRI was needed to be 100% sure. In a way I was grateful that this person took a second look if they were unsure, but our sense of relief was gone. We were told Monkey would have to wait 3 weeks for his MRI
. I would look at him often, take a deep breath, and remind myself that he would be fine. He came into this world almost two months early and has been catching up ever since. But the cloud of worry and the "what ifs" wouldn't be gone until we knew for sure. The day of Monkey's MRI, I drove home feeling postitive that we would get the reading and everything would be fine and finally we could put it behind us. However, we received a phone call from our pediatrician (whom we just love) saying that the MRI showed that Monkey either had slight excess fluid around his brain (no big deal) or brain atrophy, 
or shrinking (a very big deal). I finally gave myself about an hour to cry. I cried out of frustration , fear, and worry...and then I cried for the parents who get life changing results from this instead of unclear ones. So we packed Monkey up early this morning and took him to his appointment. They checked all of his developmental milestones, they asked questions and took notes, and they left to review the MRI again. And finally they came back and told me what I knew in my heart when we started this process months ago: "Your son is fine, he is right on time for his age...he just has a big head." A big noggin, just like his Daddy, that's all. And for the first time in months, I feel like I can breath again. I offered up a little prayer, packed up my sniffling, blue eyed boy, and realized that Monkey truly is my heart walking around outside my body :).
sedated and he slept through it like a champ. We got a call from our pediatrician that night that the radiologist had read his CT and everything looked fine. Big sigh of relief...until the next morning. The radiologist said that she'd gone home and thought more about his scan, had another radiologist look at it and although they didn't see anything like a tumor or mass, they felt an MRI was needed to be 100% sure. In a way I was grateful that this person took a second look if they were unsure, but our sense of relief was gone. We were told Monkey would have to wait 3 weeks for his MRI
. I would look at him often, take a deep breath, and remind myself that he would be fine. He came into this world almost two months early and has been catching up ever since. But the cloud of worry and the "what ifs" wouldn't be gone until we knew for sure. The day of Monkey's MRI, I drove home feeling postitive that we would get the reading and everything would be fine and finally we could put it behind us. However, we received a phone call from our pediatrician (whom we just love) saying that the MRI showed that Monkey either had slight excess fluid around his brain (no big deal) or brain atrophy, 
or shrinking (a very big deal). I finally gave myself about an hour to cry. I cried out of frustration , fear, and worry...and then I cried for the parents who get life changing results from this instead of unclear ones. So we packed Monkey up early this morning and took him to his appointment. They checked all of his developmental milestones, they asked questions and took notes, and they left to review the MRI again. And finally they came back and told me what I knew in my heart when we started this process months ago: "Your son is fine, he is right on time for his age...he just has a big head." A big noggin, just like his Daddy, that's all. And for the first time in months, I feel like I can breath again. I offered up a little prayer, packed up my sniffling, blue eyed boy, and realized that Monkey truly is my heart walking around outside my body :).
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