Alicia has not even lost her first tooth yet and the second one is now loose. Very loose, almost as much as the first! They are the center teeth on the bottom. She'll be so cute without those teeth at the same time!!
I can't wait to take pictures.
A little slice of life
from the Luccketta household of
Mike, Tammy, Alicia, and Reece.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Friday, September 15, 2006
How I hurt my thumb - or OUCH! THAT HURT!!!!!
I realized that in another post I referred to hating my thumb splint. I do hate it, but I haven't posted what happened to my thumb. Although all of my friends here know - and anyone who is nosy enough to ask, stranger or not - I haven't told a lot of people who don't see me regularly.
On July 26, I was playing with Reece and he was jumping around. He was singing, "I like to move it, move it, I like to move it, move it, I like to move it, move it, you like to.......MOVE IT!" This is a song from Madagascar, a really cute movie with a completely catchy song and dance. Anyhow, he was singing this song and jumping around and I was sitting down and kind of keeping my hands up in case he fell over because I did not want him to fall and hurt himself.
Did I mention that we were on the bed? Yeah, I was letting him jump on the bed. Bad mommy moment.
As luck would have it (bad luck, that is), he did fall. However, he did not fall off of the bed as I was worried about, but rather, directly onto my left thumb. It bent completely backward, touching the back of my hand before springing back into place when I pushed him off of it. There was a loud "POP!" and instant, mind-numbing pain. I knew immediately that it had been dislocated, if not broken. My first thought was not to make a big deal of it because I didn't want to scare the kids or make Reece feel badly.
That worked for about 5 seconds. Then the primal screaming started, a scream that came from deep down within, one that I could not control no matter how hard I tried. Oh, the pain in my thumb and hand!!! I was sobbing, crying hard, and holding my hand while rocking back and forth. I gave birth to two children without pain killers and that was nothing!! I handled that so much better than the absolute searing pain of my hand. Don't get me wrong, childbirth hurt very badly, so badly that I have no desire to go through it ever again. My hand, though, wow...it's right up there.
After about 10 minutes of solid screaming (not really, it was probably only about 2, but it felt like 30), I gained some semblance of control and began to check for movement. I knew that if it was still dislocated or broken, I would have to go to the ER and have it treated. I was able to move it, not without pain, but it was moving. I called Mike, who was at work, and asked what would be done for a dislocated thumb. Ice and Ibuprofen was the answer, which is exactly what I suspected. I didn't go to the ER. Mike was almost off of work, though, so he finished and came home a little bit early to take care of me.
I kept ice on it for the next few days and kept taking Ibuprofen. I managed to keep the swelling to a minimum and didn't really even bruise, which was a big surprise to me. About 2 1/2 weeks later, however, I had very limited range of motion and started to feel a tale-telling itch deep inside my palm. Fearing that I had actually broken something, I made an appointment with the doctor.
My appointment was oh, so fun. Not really, but wouldn't that be nice? My thumb was still very sensitive to touch; the slightest bump would send me through the roof. The doctor decided that yes, there was something else going on and proceeded to lecture me a bit. Not too much, though, because he would have been guilty of the same behavior. He sent me to X-ray. I then had my hand X-rayed in uncomfortable positions, the technician MOVING my poor thumb to get the angle she wanted.
The good news was, no fracture. The bad news was, there were torn ligaments. Guess which one would have healed faster? Here's a hint: it's not the ligaments. Now I wear a lovely, black thumb splint that goes half way down my forearm.
I lied; it isn't really lovely. It's actually rather ugly and gothic black, shiny in some places, itchy in others. It is stiff, hot, tight and all around uncomfortable. I wish it were pink or light blue, because then it would match more of my clothing. I think that they should give a choice, "Do you want the gothic black, or the preppy pink, blue and purple argyle patterned splint? Perhaps a nice Chanel signature splint in tasteful beige and tan? Oh, and we still have a few Burberry plaid splints, if that is more to your liking."
At any rate, that's the story of how I got my splint. Somebody asked me about it the other day and I told them that my little boy fell on my thumb, dislocating it and tearing some ligaments. After we walked away, my darling little cherub looked up at me with his big, luminous brown eyes and said with a quivering frown, "Mama...all I did was say, 'I want to move it, move it...' and I fell on your thumb." I think he was feeling a little bit bad and guilty about it so I told him, "I know, sweetie. It's okay. Mommy will be okay." And so I will...in a few more months.
On July 26, I was playing with Reece and he was jumping around. He was singing, "I like to move it, move it, I like to move it, move it, I like to move it, move it, you like to.......MOVE IT!" This is a song from Madagascar, a really cute movie with a completely catchy song and dance. Anyhow, he was singing this song and jumping around and I was sitting down and kind of keeping my hands up in case he fell over because I did not want him to fall and hurt himself.
Did I mention that we were on the bed? Yeah, I was letting him jump on the bed. Bad mommy moment.
As luck would have it (bad luck, that is), he did fall. However, he did not fall off of the bed as I was worried about, but rather, directly onto my left thumb. It bent completely backward, touching the back of my hand before springing back into place when I pushed him off of it. There was a loud "POP!" and instant, mind-numbing pain. I knew immediately that it had been dislocated, if not broken. My first thought was not to make a big deal of it because I didn't want to scare the kids or make Reece feel badly.
That worked for about 5 seconds. Then the primal screaming started, a scream that came from deep down within, one that I could not control no matter how hard I tried. Oh, the pain in my thumb and hand!!! I was sobbing, crying hard, and holding my hand while rocking back and forth. I gave birth to two children without pain killers and that was nothing!! I handled that so much better than the absolute searing pain of my hand. Don't get me wrong, childbirth hurt very badly, so badly that I have no desire to go through it ever again. My hand, though, wow...it's right up there.
After about 10 minutes of solid screaming (not really, it was probably only about 2, but it felt like 30), I gained some semblance of control and began to check for movement. I knew that if it was still dislocated or broken, I would have to go to the ER and have it treated. I was able to move it, not without pain, but it was moving. I called Mike, who was at work, and asked what would be done for a dislocated thumb. Ice and Ibuprofen was the answer, which is exactly what I suspected. I didn't go to the ER. Mike was almost off of work, though, so he finished and came home a little bit early to take care of me.
I kept ice on it for the next few days and kept taking Ibuprofen. I managed to keep the swelling to a minimum and didn't really even bruise, which was a big surprise to me. About 2 1/2 weeks later, however, I had very limited range of motion and started to feel a tale-telling itch deep inside my palm. Fearing that I had actually broken something, I made an appointment with the doctor.
My appointment was oh, so fun. Not really, but wouldn't that be nice? My thumb was still very sensitive to touch; the slightest bump would send me through the roof. The doctor decided that yes, there was something else going on and proceeded to lecture me a bit. Not too much, though, because he would have been guilty of the same behavior. He sent me to X-ray. I then had my hand X-rayed in uncomfortable positions, the technician MOVING my poor thumb to get the angle she wanted.
The good news was, no fracture. The bad news was, there were torn ligaments. Guess which one would have healed faster? Here's a hint: it's not the ligaments. Now I wear a lovely, black thumb splint that goes half way down my forearm.
I lied; it isn't really lovely. It's actually rather ugly and gothic black, shiny in some places, itchy in others. It is stiff, hot, tight and all around uncomfortable. I wish it were pink or light blue, because then it would match more of my clothing. I think that they should give a choice, "Do you want the gothic black, or the preppy pink, blue and purple argyle patterned splint? Perhaps a nice Chanel signature splint in tasteful beige and tan? Oh, and we still have a few Burberry plaid splints, if that is more to your liking."
At any rate, that's the story of how I got my splint. Somebody asked me about it the other day and I told them that my little boy fell on my thumb, dislocating it and tearing some ligaments. After we walked away, my darling little cherub looked up at me with his big, luminous brown eyes and said with a quivering frown, "Mama...all I did was say, 'I want to move it, move it...' and I fell on your thumb." I think he was feeling a little bit bad and guilty about it so I told him, "I know, sweetie. It's okay. Mommy will be okay." And so I will...in a few more months.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Alicia's first day of Kindergarten
Doesn't she look a little bit scared?
Just outside the door...
She went to her first day on Aug. 16, 2006. She is growing so quickly!!
She is really liking school so far. She says that she likes her old teachers better, but I think that's a matter of familiarity. She was with them for two years, so she would naturally be more attached to them.
It's a long day for a Kindergartener, starting at 8:15 and ending at 2:30. She is quickly adjusting to a new sleep schedule and is getting up early without too much fight. I'm having to adjust, too, because I'm a night owl and don't like to get up at 6:15.

Just outside the door...

She went to her first day on Aug. 16, 2006. She is growing so quickly!!
She is really liking school so far. She says that she likes her old teachers better, but I think that's a matter of familiarity. She was with them for two years, so she would naturally be more attached to them.
It's a long day for a Kindergartener, starting at 8:15 and ending at 2:30. She is quickly adjusting to a new sleep schedule and is getting up early without too much fight. I'm having to adjust, too, because I'm a night owl and don't like to get up at 6:15.
Loose Tooth!!
Alicia has her first loose tooth.
Let me make that a little clearer....
ALICIA HAS HER FIRST LOOSE TOOTH!!!!!
Yes, at the ripe old age of 5 3/4, she has a loose tooth, bottom front. I was in Kindergarten when I lost my first tooth. Now my baby girl will be in Kindergarten when she loses her first tooth. Ah, the circle of time.
She is very excited and plays with it constantly. I know that she is really looking forward to the payoff. She said she will put it under her pillow and the tooth fairy can bring her "pennies". Mike and I decided that the tooth fairy will dole out a buck a tooth.
My kids are making out far better than I did.
I'll update once she pulls it out. I don't expect that it will be long. She even ate a couple of apples this afternoon because she remembered my story of my first tooth coming out while I was eating an apple. What a smartie.
Let me make that a little clearer....
ALICIA HAS HER FIRST LOOSE TOOTH!!!!!
Yes, at the ripe old age of 5 3/4, she has a loose tooth, bottom front. I was in Kindergarten when I lost my first tooth. Now my baby girl will be in Kindergarten when she loses her first tooth. Ah, the circle of time.
She is very excited and plays with it constantly. I know that she is really looking forward to the payoff. She said she will put it under her pillow and the tooth fairy can bring her "pennies". Mike and I decided that the tooth fairy will dole out a buck a tooth.
My kids are making out far better than I did.
I'll update once she pulls it out. I don't expect that it will be long. She even ate a couple of apples this afternoon because she remembered my story of my first tooth coming out while I was eating an apple. What a smartie.
More migraine chronicles
From August 31, 2006:
My migraine issues continue. To recap: Topamax works, insurance won't pay, Inderal made me lightheaded because it lowered my blood pressure, Aleve doesn't do a thing, and that brings us to today.
I have another migraine. I am getting used to living life with one. That is not how I want it to be; it just happens to be that way. I called the doctor and left a message telling him that the 2 Aleve in the morning and 2 Aleve at night is not cutting it. I had a migraine 5 out of 7 days last week. That is no way to live.
His office called back and said that he wants me to up the Inderol uptake to 2 a day. I was miserable with my headache and not thinking straight, so I said 'fine'.
It's NOT fine.
I have low blood pressure. It's great - when I'm living everyday life. It was an issue while pregnant, because it drops. Inderol is a drug used to lower blood pressure. I didn't even think to question it when they called me. If I was light-headed with one pill a day, what are two going to do to me? I can't live life without being able to drive because I am not sure if I'll stay conscious. I am going to call them again tomorrow and double-check this.
At any rate, I have a migraine and am about ready to go to bed. Alicia is already asleep, but Reece, the hyper-active machine that he is, is still up and about. I sort of took a nap this afternoon - as much as I could with the kids screaming and running around and using me as a springboard. I really need the sleep.
My migraine issues continue. To recap: Topamax works, insurance won't pay, Inderal made me lightheaded because it lowered my blood pressure, Aleve doesn't do a thing, and that brings us to today.
I have another migraine. I am getting used to living life with one. That is not how I want it to be; it just happens to be that way. I called the doctor and left a message telling him that the 2 Aleve in the morning and 2 Aleve at night is not cutting it. I had a migraine 5 out of 7 days last week. That is no way to live.
His office called back and said that he wants me to up the Inderol uptake to 2 a day. I was miserable with my headache and not thinking straight, so I said 'fine'.
It's NOT fine.
I have low blood pressure. It's great - when I'm living everyday life. It was an issue while pregnant, because it drops. Inderol is a drug used to lower blood pressure. I didn't even think to question it when they called me. If I was light-headed with one pill a day, what are two going to do to me? I can't live life without being able to drive because I am not sure if I'll stay conscious. I am going to call them again tomorrow and double-check this.
At any rate, I have a migraine and am about ready to go to bed. Alicia is already asleep, but Reece, the hyper-active machine that he is, is still up and about. I sort of took a nap this afternoon - as much as I could with the kids screaming and running around and using me as a springboard. I really need the sleep.
Nose picking on other people
August 29, 2006
I had to do my first nasal extraction today. I'm not talking about the stuff you get out of your baby's nose with the big, blue or green bulbous snot-sucker that makes the baby scream for 10 minutes.
No, no, no, no, no. I am talking about something shoved up the nose.
Yep. Reece stuck a piece of paper up his left nostril this afternoon. Actually, it was a size tag that I had torn off of Alicia's belt this morning, so it wasn't even like normal paper that would have gotten all soft and mushy and probably leaked out on its own.
I know. I need to throw things away. We were running late. Sheesh!
I didn't realize he had done it until he came to me with his finger in his nose and crying about something up in there. Naturally, I thought that he had some normal booger action going on. I got a tissue and had him blow. Nothing. He started to panic. Then he said, "Mama. There's paper in my nose." I had him lean his head back and I couldn't see anything in his nose. Great. I knew instantly just what piece of paper he was referring to as well.
I called Mike out frantically. He, of course, was taking his time because he had just gotten out of the shower and didn't want to go to work so he was dragging his heels a bit. I yelled the next time and told him to move it (I can be bossy like that. Are you surprised?). We decided that blowing the nose wasn't working so well, so we tilted him back and I could just barely see the very tip of the corner of this piece of paper, up there in his nose.
I grabbed a blanket, had Mike papoose-wrap our poor child and then I sat on his legs. Mike held his head still and I took some very pointed tweezers and - voila! - out came the tag, all one and a half inches length of it, saving us $50 in ER visit co-pays and a traumatized child.
Of course, this was mere minutes before I had to leave to pick Ali up from school (doesn't it always happen that way?), so after I picked her up I took both kids out for clown ice cream cones, since Reece was still pretty upset. He has now forgotten all about the pain and promised to never stick anything in his nose again.
I had to do my first nasal extraction today. I'm not talking about the stuff you get out of your baby's nose with the big, blue or green bulbous snot-sucker that makes the baby scream for 10 minutes.
No, no, no, no, no. I am talking about something shoved up the nose.
Yep. Reece stuck a piece of paper up his left nostril this afternoon. Actually, it was a size tag that I had torn off of Alicia's belt this morning, so it wasn't even like normal paper that would have gotten all soft and mushy and probably leaked out on its own.
I know. I need to throw things away. We were running late. Sheesh!
I didn't realize he had done it until he came to me with his finger in his nose and crying about something up in there. Naturally, I thought that he had some normal booger action going on. I got a tissue and had him blow. Nothing. He started to panic. Then he said, "Mama. There's paper in my nose." I had him lean his head back and I couldn't see anything in his nose. Great. I knew instantly just what piece of paper he was referring to as well.
I called Mike out frantically. He, of course, was taking his time because he had just gotten out of the shower and didn't want to go to work so he was dragging his heels a bit. I yelled the next time and told him to move it (I can be bossy like that. Are you surprised?). We decided that blowing the nose wasn't working so well, so we tilted him back and I could just barely see the very tip of the corner of this piece of paper, up there in his nose.
I grabbed a blanket, had Mike papoose-wrap our poor child and then I sat on his legs. Mike held his head still and I took some very pointed tweezers and - voila! - out came the tag, all one and a half inches length of it, saving us $50 in ER visit co-pays and a traumatized child.
Of course, this was mere minutes before I had to leave to pick Ali up from school (doesn't it always happen that way?), so after I picked her up I took both kids out for clown ice cream cones, since Reece was still pretty upset. He has now forgotten all about the pain and promised to never stick anything in his nose again.
From August 28, 2006
My hair seems to be getting curlier. I can take it out of the towel, mousse it, and there is no question that I have curly hair now! Wow. A lifetime of straight hair and now this. I kind of like it.
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I was supposed to go see Def Leppard and Journey last night, but my BIL got the dates confused. It looks like I get to go see them in Reno this coming weekend instead. I don't care! I haven't seen them since I got pregnant with Ali. That is too long a dry spell without my Lep.
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I took Anayla and her sweetie boyfriend Robert (-Lo's little brother) to a Mercy Me concert Saturday night. I was going to take Khori, but he didn't take me seriously when I told him not to squirt Reece with the hose or I wouldn't take him to the show. He squirted him. I felt so bad! Shawn told me to stick to it, so Khori got to stay here with Reece and Ali. I offered to bring him and the kids but he figured he wouldn't get much out of it if he had to chase them around.
It was a fun show! They actually rock. I was impressed. Robert is soooooo not into that type of music, but I did catch him singing along. hehehe.....I think he was a little scared by his girlfriend. Silly girl. She was crying during the speaker. It was emotional, though. I felt a little choked up myself.
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I hate my splint.
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I get to tell the doctor that I had 4 migraine days last week. I think the next thing he is going to try is Depakote. If I have any weird personality changes we get to blame it on that medicine. I am really wary of it. I fear becoming a fat zombie. He said if I gain even 5 pounds, he'll take me off of it. I like being thin. I work hard for it. I don't want to give it up. Gah!!! I'm such a narcissist.
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I promised Mike I'd work on cleaning the house today. The headaches have been really horrible and make it very hard to get it done. I'm feeling pretty good today so I've done 5 loads of laundry, sorted through too-small clothes for the kids and cleaned out some of my closet. I am taking a couple of bags of my clothes to the Salvation Army and sending some little girl clothes to a friend. I still have waaaaaay too much to wade through. We are such clothes horses.
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I like the Wonderpets, but I hate that Ming-Ming talks like a freaking baby. Grrrrr......same reason that I'm not crazy about Oobi.
Man, I really miss television made for my age.
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I was supposed to go see Def Leppard and Journey last night, but my BIL got the dates confused. It looks like I get to go see them in Reno this coming weekend instead. I don't care! I haven't seen them since I got pregnant with Ali. That is too long a dry spell without my Lep.
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I took Anayla and her sweetie boyfriend Robert (-Lo's little brother) to a Mercy Me concert Saturday night. I was going to take Khori, but he didn't take me seriously when I told him not to squirt Reece with the hose or I wouldn't take him to the show. He squirted him. I felt so bad! Shawn told me to stick to it, so Khori got to stay here with Reece and Ali. I offered to bring him and the kids but he figured he wouldn't get much out of it if he had to chase them around.
It was a fun show! They actually rock. I was impressed. Robert is soooooo not into that type of music, but I did catch him singing along. hehehe.....I think he was a little scared by his girlfriend. Silly girl. She was crying during the speaker. It was emotional, though. I felt a little choked up myself.
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I hate my splint.
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I get to tell the doctor that I had 4 migraine days last week. I think the next thing he is going to try is Depakote. If I have any weird personality changes we get to blame it on that medicine. I am really wary of it. I fear becoming a fat zombie. He said if I gain even 5 pounds, he'll take me off of it. I like being thin. I work hard for it. I don't want to give it up. Gah!!! I'm such a narcissist.
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I promised Mike I'd work on cleaning the house today. The headaches have been really horrible and make it very hard to get it done. I'm feeling pretty good today so I've done 5 loads of laundry, sorted through too-small clothes for the kids and cleaned out some of my closet. I am taking a couple of bags of my clothes to the Salvation Army and sending some little girl clothes to a friend. I still have waaaaaay too much to wade through. We are such clothes horses.
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I like the Wonderpets, but I hate that Ming-Ming talks like a freaking baby. Grrrrr......same reason that I'm not crazy about Oobi.
Man, I really miss television made for my age.
More old news...
This post is from the heat wave we had in July. It was written on July 17, 2006. What a miserable spell that was!!
Do you remember those essays that we all had to do as children when we went back to school after the summer break? They were usually titled "What I Did This Summer" and contained a lot of run-on sentences and were pretty boring. Well, consider this my summer essay. It is titled, "What I've Learned About Summer in the Central California Valley".
Summer in the Central California Valley certainly is a summer unto its own. We have our own distinctive heat. We aren't a wet, sticky, humid heat. The states East of the Rockies laugh at us when we say we're hot. "It's not the heat; it's the humidity!" they chant; their mantra over the decades never wavering.
Bite me. It's the heat. I do not care if you have a humidity dew point of 89%. Mine is a paltry 35%. Yeah, that may not mean much to someone in say, New Jersey (sorry, Mandy), but it is just enough to be uncomfortable. Now, visualize, if you will, that blast of hot air that you feel when you open your oven door to baste your Thanksgiving turkey. That is how it feels when I open my front door - at 7 a.m. - and often at 9 p.m. So yeah, when I say I was baking today, I'm not talking about a cobbler. I'm talking about the time that I took to slither from the front door to the van.
A few things I've learned about coping with our heat and working life around it.
1. If you are doing laundry, do not start your next wash load until the dryer load is halfway done. If your wash has to wait in the washer, it will go sour. Then you just have to run it again, using more electricity and making your house that much hotter.
2. If your children have milk, don't expect it to be good for longer than half an hour. Seriously. Even in the air conditioned house. That stuff is going to go sour and they will NOT be happy. And for goodness' sake, don't put it in a sippy cup. You're just asking for trouble trying to get that crap out of the rubber valves. Blech.
3. There is no barefoot season in the summer. If you think there is, you are kidding yourself. Don't even think that you can get your newspaper barefoot. Skin grafts will follow.
4. Waterproof makeup is NOT the same as sweatproof makeup. Your mascara may not run, but keeping your foundation in place, well.....let's just say that's not always so easy.
5. Every year I have the same dilemma: keep my hair long or cut it short. If it's long, I can put it up in a ponytail or braid it, but then I have to either put it up in a ponytail or braid it (haha). If I cut it short, then I have to brave the damp, cold winter with a bare neck. That isn't very appealing, either.
6. A breeze should be a good thing, right? Not when it's the same temperature as the general air. Now instead of feeling like an oven, it's become an convection oven. Oh yeah, that's better.
7. Watering schedules. I know they are a necessary evil. I just can't get my poor hydrangeas to understand that they cannot have water on Monday and Tuesday. Sometimes I smuggle it to them, water police be damned.
So, just to recap, it is 107 degrees outside today. I am feeling every bit of it.
Do you remember those essays that we all had to do as children when we went back to school after the summer break? They were usually titled "What I Did This Summer" and contained a lot of run-on sentences and were pretty boring. Well, consider this my summer essay. It is titled, "What I've Learned About Summer in the Central California Valley".
Summer in the Central California Valley certainly is a summer unto its own. We have our own distinctive heat. We aren't a wet, sticky, humid heat. The states East of the Rockies laugh at us when we say we're hot. "It's not the heat; it's the humidity!" they chant; their mantra over the decades never wavering.
Bite me. It's the heat. I do not care if you have a humidity dew point of 89%. Mine is a paltry 35%. Yeah, that may not mean much to someone in say, New Jersey (sorry, Mandy), but it is just enough to be uncomfortable. Now, visualize, if you will, that blast of hot air that you feel when you open your oven door to baste your Thanksgiving turkey. That is how it feels when I open my front door - at 7 a.m. - and often at 9 p.m. So yeah, when I say I was baking today, I'm not talking about a cobbler. I'm talking about the time that I took to slither from the front door to the van.
A few things I've learned about coping with our heat and working life around it.
1. If you are doing laundry, do not start your next wash load until the dryer load is halfway done. If your wash has to wait in the washer, it will go sour. Then you just have to run it again, using more electricity and making your house that much hotter.
2. If your children have milk, don't expect it to be good for longer than half an hour. Seriously. Even in the air conditioned house. That stuff is going to go sour and they will NOT be happy. And for goodness' sake, don't put it in a sippy cup. You're just asking for trouble trying to get that crap out of the rubber valves. Blech.
3. There is no barefoot season in the summer. If you think there is, you are kidding yourself. Don't even think that you can get your newspaper barefoot. Skin grafts will follow.
4. Waterproof makeup is NOT the same as sweatproof makeup. Your mascara may not run, but keeping your foundation in place, well.....let's just say that's not always so easy.
5. Every year I have the same dilemma: keep my hair long or cut it short. If it's long, I can put it up in a ponytail or braid it, but then I have to either put it up in a ponytail or braid it (haha). If I cut it short, then I have to brave the damp, cold winter with a bare neck. That isn't very appealing, either.
6. A breeze should be a good thing, right? Not when it's the same temperature as the general air. Now instead of feeling like an oven, it's become an convection oven. Oh yeah, that's better.
7. Watering schedules. I know they are a necessary evil. I just can't get my poor hydrangeas to understand that they cannot have water on Monday and Tuesday. Sometimes I smuggle it to them, water police be damned.
So, just to recap, it is 107 degrees outside today. I am feeling every bit of it.
I've tried adding to this, but with no luck.
I tend to get interrupted alot. ALOT. Imagine, two kids and I'm getting interrupted. Can anybody relate?
Well, I'm going to do some cutting and pasting from other blogs to get this one current.
From June 12, 2006:
There is a light at the end of the tunnel and hopefully it won't be painful to me. I went back to the doctor today to discuss my ongoing migraine issues. I had a headache while in his office, but it wasn't migraine quality, thank God. My blood pressure was a bit low, 110/70, and the nurse asked if it's usually low, to which I answered yes and she left it at that. I'm sure that she thought she had counted wrong, but that's normal for me. It dropped even more during pregnancy!
Anyway, back to the purpose of this entry....he asked how often I'm getting the migraines. I told him it's been at least 4 days a week and that the Frova was wonderful while it lasted, but I have run out of the samples he gave me. He decided that it is time to put me on a preventative regimen and without hesitation said, "I'm putting you on Topamax."
I cannot tell you how happy those five words made me.
I have done my research; reading, talking to others on the medication, looking up side effects and uses and decided that it was probably the best course for me to take. I was very happy to discover that he agreed with me. I will be starting with 25 mg a day for a week, 50 mg a day for the next week and 75 mg a day the third week. He said that some people end up taking 8 pills (!!) a day, but thinks that I should be fine by the 3 pills a day regimen. While in the office I was having sharp shooting pains and tingling in my left arm and hand, which he attributed to affects from the migraines. I did not know that they could do that.
I have to mention that he is a bit of a comedian. While discussing the medication (he expects me to have done my homework before entering the office because that's my way), we talked about the many uses and the side effects. He said that he hasn't had any complaints of side effects. I said, "Of course not! One of them is weight loss!" He said, "I think I may have to start getting migraines...." When he handed me the sample bottles and I asked him how to take them he said, "I think orally would be best." Then I asked him to write the regimen down, which he proceeded to do in medical shorthand. He realized what he was doing and began to rewrite it in "normal" English and I reminded him that with my years in the hospital I had learned medical shorthand and besides, Mike could always translate for me. I'm so optimistic today, that even the presence of a headache hasn't dampened my mood.
Well, I'm going to do some cutting and pasting from other blogs to get this one current.
From June 12, 2006:
There is a light at the end of the tunnel and hopefully it won't be painful to me. I went back to the doctor today to discuss my ongoing migraine issues. I had a headache while in his office, but it wasn't migraine quality, thank God. My blood pressure was a bit low, 110/70, and the nurse asked if it's usually low, to which I answered yes and she left it at that. I'm sure that she thought she had counted wrong, but that's normal for me. It dropped even more during pregnancy!
Anyway, back to the purpose of this entry....he asked how often I'm getting the migraines. I told him it's been at least 4 days a week and that the Frova was wonderful while it lasted, but I have run out of the samples he gave me. He decided that it is time to put me on a preventative regimen and without hesitation said, "I'm putting you on Topamax."
I cannot tell you how happy those five words made me.
I have done my research; reading, talking to others on the medication, looking up side effects and uses and decided that it was probably the best course for me to take. I was very happy to discover that he agreed with me. I will be starting with 25 mg a day for a week, 50 mg a day for the next week and 75 mg a day the third week. He said that some people end up taking 8 pills (!!) a day, but thinks that I should be fine by the 3 pills a day regimen. While in the office I was having sharp shooting pains and tingling in my left arm and hand, which he attributed to affects from the migraines. I did not know that they could do that.
I have to mention that he is a bit of a comedian. While discussing the medication (he expects me to have done my homework before entering the office because that's my way), we talked about the many uses and the side effects. He said that he hasn't had any complaints of side effects. I said, "Of course not! One of them is weight loss!" He said, "I think I may have to start getting migraines...." When he handed me the sample bottles and I asked him how to take them he said, "I think orally would be best." Then I asked him to write the regimen down, which he proceeded to do in medical shorthand. He realized what he was doing and began to rewrite it in "normal" English and I reminded him that with my years in the hospital I had learned medical shorthand and besides, Mike could always translate for me. I'm so optimistic today, that even the presence of a headache hasn't dampened my mood.
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