Broken

I knew it the second it happened. I slipped, felt my ankle twist and heard a loud "CRACK, CRACK!!" In that split second I thought to myself, "I've broken my ankle." Then I hit the floor and the pain hit as well. Luckily, my husband was home instead of at work, where he had been scheduled to be. Otherwise, it would have been just our three year old and me. An ambulance would have been called.

He was still asleep in the back of the house with the bedroom door closed. I called his name. I knew I would have to call louder. I yelled again and then again. I still lay on the floor in excruciating pain. I dragged myself onto one of the dining room chairs and continued to call, my voice ragged and haggard with pain.

He's a heavy sleeper. I wondered if I'd be able to reach my cell phone and call him on the house phone - not that that was a guaranteed wake up, either. I am sure that I yelled his name about 20 times, hysterically, raw with pain and finally I heard him moving in the other room. He rushed out, down the hall, bleary-eyed with sleep. He knew that something was wrong; I am not the excitable sort.

He wasn't prepared for what he found. I was sobbing, cradling my ankle and repeating over and over again, "I broke it, I broke it."

Mike got our little guy Reece dressed. There was some delay as Reece wanted to wear his new flip-flops but could only find one of them. Finally, Mike put his foot down and told him that he was wearing his regular shoes because Mommy had to go to the doctor right then. Reece cried, but ultimately he complied.

I called my mom, who had the unfortunate distinction of being the person calling when I had the fateful fall, and told her that we were going to the ER because I broke my ankle. She felt very bad and headed up to meet us so that she could help with Reece. Sitting in the ER with a 3 year old is not the easiest thing to do.

At first, Mike was going to take me to the Urgent Care for the X-rays and some pain medications. When we got there, he looked at me and decided that I should go straight to the ER. Unfortunately, that meant driving 3 towns away due to our insurance. I never realized the freeways needed so much repair until I had to ride down one with a broken leg supported on a stack of coats.

By the time we got there, I had been broken for an hour. My mom wheeled me to the admissions desk while Mike parked the van and unloaded Reece. The admissions clerk ignored my admitting complaint of "broken ankle" and put down "twisted ankle". Then she sent me to the waiting room. Much later, I was called to triage.

I had cried plenty before getting to the hospital and am not crazy about crying in front of a room full of strangers. My coping mechanism is to joke and make light of things. The nurse in triage didn't bother to look at my ankle and said plenty of pithy things such as, "You must not have hurt it too badly if you're laughing and joking...."

I stifled the urge to give him a matching break in his leg.

I was sent back to the chairs. After about another half an hour, I was called back to triage where a different nurse checked my vitals and actually took the time to look at my ankle. She immediately ordered a 3 view X-ray to be done so that the doctors could treat me when I got back into the rooms. She apologized that she had no open beds at the time and sent me back to - you guessed it - the chairs.

Finally, the X-ray tech came to take my pictures. I was wheeled down a labyrinth of halls and into a small room. I carefully eased myself onto the table and gingerly placed my injured leg on the film. For each view I had to move and position my leg differently. This required moving my broken limb. I gave up on being stoic and was crying, albeit quietly. Big, huge, silent sobs wracked my body as I tried to be a good patient and stay still for the films. At one point, the tech said that she couldn't tell if I was laughing or crying. I assured her I was crying. They finished and Mike came in. I leaned into him and sobbed, my breath jagged with the pain.

It had been over 3 hours at this point.

The tech graciously offered to show me my interior. There it was, in black and white (and gray), a distinct break in the fibula, just above the malleolus. The amount of space between what should have been one solid bone was remarkable. There was no mistaking it; my 6 year old could have pointed out the break.

I went back to chairs. After awhile, during which I played dodge-the-passersby-and-don't-let-them-touch-my-foot, I told Mike and my mom that I would like to have some sort of pain medication, considering that I now had proof that my leg was indeed broken. My mom jumped on the opportunity to feel useful and went to the front desk to see why her baby wasn't in a room yet or at least medicated. I would have been happy for a single Tylenol at that point.

She came back with the news that they were cleaning out a room for me and would get me back there as soon as possible. As soon as possible being about another 10 minutes. I managed, once again, to get out of the wheelchair and onto a table. The nurse informed me that I would need to put on paper pants. Wow, this was just getting better and better. Let me tell you, there is nothing like taking off a pair of jeans and putting on paper pants all while trying NOT to jar your broken leg.

I managed to get into the pants, which didn't feel as papery as I expected, and a nurse practitioner made his way in to the room. Finally! Someone was going to take some action! Or so I thought. Mike pointed out that I hadn't received any sort of pain relief and had been there for 3 hours already (it had been 4 since I actually broke my leg). The NP asked if I wanted pain pills or a shot. I could have shot him! I opted for the shot, naturally.

Such relief in such a small needle. Finally, the sharp, searing pain was gone. The constant aching was lessened. There was still pain, but whereas it had been about an 8 or 9 previously, it was now diminished to around a 3. It was nothing I couldn't handle. In a few minutes, I was about to be extremely happy for that shot.

The NP said that they would be splinting my leg and referring me to an orthopedist who would decide whether to cast it or do surgery. He didn't think that surgery was a strong possibility.

The ortho tech entered along with an orderly. Only, they aren't called orderlies anymore. He was also called a tech, but I don't remember what kind. I was informed that he would be putting a plaster splint on my leg, but first of all they would have to MOVE it a little bit because it was leaning in and down a bit. I tried to convince him that it was matching the other foot, but he caught on to my ruse immediately and refused to believe me. I was told that it may hurt a bit, did I think that I could handle the pain?

I informed him that I have survived two natural childbirths, I can handle this as well.

It hurt. I will not lie. It hurt. I did not scream, I did not cry. I did groan and grunt with the pain a bit and clutch the rails of the bed as the younger of these men leaned against my foot and pushed it toward my broken leg. At one point I was told to relax my leg; I was fighting it too much. Um, yeah, that's not so easy to do.

Once he was done, the ortho tech informed me that I was very lucky that I didn't break any of the other bones and he was surprised that it was only the one. Then he informed me that it is very likely that I will need surgery.

I didn't care for the inconsistencies much.

I was sent home with a measly prescription for 15 vicodin and told to call my doctor for a referral to the ortho. I called him first thing the next morning, as soon as the phone lines opened and before he is actually in the office. Five hours later they called me back and said that they would refer and took down some information. Six hours later I called again and complained that I hadn't heard from the ortho and what is the status? The nurse said she'd call him again in the morning.

This morning, no news. I called again (I can be a bit of a pain when I have nothing to distract me from a mission). I was beginning to worry because there is no way that the Vicodin is going to last much longer than the weekend, if even all the way through. My doctor didn't have any appointments available until Monday afternoon. I was referred to Urgent Care.

Urgent Care. I can't stand it there. I am not crazy about the doctor working it; he's great with kids but always makes us adults feel as if we are mere med-seekers, looking for a quick fix. Even with my broken leg, fat splint and all of the notes in the system, he still seemed reluctant to prescribe me any medications. Finally, he prescribed a stronger dosage of Vicodin, enough to last me for 10 days. Wow, what a pal. *roll eyes here* He informed me that he looked at the notes going back and forth between the offices and it looks as if I won't be getting into the ortho office for another 7 to 10 days.

SEVEN TO TEN DAYS?!?!

I am not looking forward to this next week. I may have to devote my copious amount of free time to hounding the ortho office starting Monday.

Updating

I guess I just have been to busy to write in here. Or perhaps I've been too lazy to write in here. I think it's actually a combination of the two. I was re-reading my last post, the one from the day after Christmas. It was such a nice, sweet post. So cheerful and upbeat.

It left out such misery.

What I didn't say was that I was completely miserable the month of December. I was a walking migraine. It was horrible. The doctor got fed up with my insurance company refusing to pay for my Topamax and walked in with a sack full of samples for me. Hopefully he'll have plenty stocked up for the next time I visit him. Since I had such a headache, I didn't get out of the house much. I was a self-exiled hermit. It was horrible.

January was a little better. The Topamax started working. Alicia went back to school on the 8th. Life started getting back to normal. Mike had his 38th birthday on the 24th. I made him lasagna and German's chocolate cake from scratch as is our tradition. I went to women's retreat the last weekend of the month in Yosemite. Actually, it's right before you hit the park, about 2 miles ahead of the entrance, but it's so close that it may as well be Yosemite. It was wonderful and I felt as if the speakers were talking to ME. They could have thrown my name into every sentence and it would have been completely relevant.

I came home not feeling so hot. It was quick and relatively painless. Mike got it the next day and was not too bad off, either. Alicia, on the other hand, poor Alicia...she got a urinary tract infection last Monday. I took her to the doctor on Tuesday. That night she got a cold. At least, I think it was a cold. It may have been a virus. There was one going around her class that involved a cough and a low-grade fever. The poor girl had painful peeing and a phlegmy cough. How miserable can that be? She was out of school from Tuesday to Friday. It was also spirit week at school. She had to miss out on all the fun stuff that entailed. I felt so bad for her. However, her class won on participation and they got a pizza party today for celebration. She did go back today. It looked like most of her class was there. Out of 25 kids, 10 were sick last Friday!

Now I'm babbling. I think I'll go to bed.

Merry Day After Christmas!!

I am sitting on my loveseat, relaxing after the super-busy day I had here yesterday. Yes, I am ON my LOVESEAT, not at the computer desk. Guess what I got for Christmas? hehehe...

We had a nice day yesterday. I had everyone over and I fed them all and let them open their gifts and generally spoiled the whole family all day. I made a yummy turkey and my own stuffing (my first!), Karnette brought a roast and made the mashed potatoes. My mom made pumpkin roll and wassail, her boyfriend brought fudge. Sweet potatoes, a fresh vegetable tray, pickles, olives, deviled eggs and pumpkin pies rounded out the meal.

The kids were so excited about their gifts. They each had an unwrappable present that was sitting in front of the tree in the morning. Alicia had a beautiful dollhouse and Reece had a roaring dinosaur. Our big purchase for the kids (and Mike) was an X-box 360, which Reece has claimed to be his. We also got several games to go with it. The kids got lots of needed clothing and also several movies. They both got radios from their grandma's boyfriend, "Grandpa" Dan.

Alicia got makeup so that she will stay out of mine. She got a Polly Pocket. Actually, it was Polly's friends Lila and Drew; I didn't know they had different names until a couple of days ago. Her grandma gave her a pretty necklace. We gave her a gold charm bracelet with a butterfly charm. We plan to add a charm a year for what she is interested in; by the time she is old enough to wear it, it should be full. She claims it is her favorite present. She also got door beads and a pink fuzzy chair. We gave her a Razor scooter. I can't believe she's old enough to want one! I gave her a game about toppling pizza. I'm sure there is something I'm forgetting, but oh well.

Reece got several items as well. He got a Spiderman blanket from his grandma. He got a Spiderman dinnerware set. A Star Wars light saber and Star Wars flight craft. A remote control elephant; sounds weird, but he loves it. Toy cars. A Spiderman figure that is completely poseable. He got a Darth Tater, which is a Mr. Potato Head, Star Wars themed. I'm sure he got more, too.

My big gift was, of course, my laptop. Mike got me the Gateway convertible notebook. I wanted the convertible for digital scrapbooking. So far, I love it!! He also got me a beautiful carrying case for it. It's so pretty!! Really pretty clothes and a gorgeous silver watch rounded it out.

He got some nice clothes, a leather coat, cologne, the Star Wars set and games for the X-box.

Even with all of those material gifts, the best thing about the day was the time spent with family. My favorite times are when the family is here and we are spending time just talking and laughing and being goofy with each other. That happens A LOT.

We're a goofy bunch. We tease each other. We make fun of each other. We also help each other. I love that I was in the kitchen with my mom and my sister, making yummy foods, pushing each other around in the tiny space with our rears (some of them bigger than others), tasting as we go and ordering every one else out. It's our domain and we kick out all others. We are very territorial about it. Someday I plan to include Alicia in it. I already do, to an extent.

Just not at Christmas.

And now, it's over. There's still a bit of a mess. The dishes are done, all but the turkey pan that is soaking. There are still some boxes that wouldn't fit into the garbage cans, but the garbage isn't collected until tomorrow morning. Not all of the gifts have found their proper homes yet. We still have all of our decorations up. They'll be there until New Year's, when we have our next big gathering.

I can't wait.

Oh my crazy life (or, Just another day for Tammy)

My kids make life very difficult for me at times. Usually those times are in the morning (and in the afternoon and in the evening....haha). This morning was no exception. They were driving me crazy. By crazy I mean that I was ready to walk out the door and not come back.

Mike had to work a double shift so he was gone before 6 this morning. That meant that I had to wake Reece up and get him ready to go with me to drop Alicia off at school. This is never a fun time. That child, Reece, does not like to wake up. He likes to sleep in. He's a night owl, and even the 7 am wake-up call was too early for his liking.

I managed to get both kids up and moving. I put food in front of them. It didn't really get eaten. Reece's was mostly eaten, but Alicia hates to eat in the morning. She must take after me. I got Reece dressed after a lot of tickling and playing around. Alicia was a different story. She did not want to get dressed. At. All.

Lately she hasn't been wanting to go to school. I don't know why, because she seems perfectly fine once she's there and she's perfectly fine when I pick her up. She complains that she doesn't have friends, but I see little girls giving her hugs goodbye, hugs that they initiate.

This morning she did not want to go to school. I finally managed to get her dressed and then I set about to brushing her hair. She really needs to just cut it, to around her shoulders, but there is no way that she is going to do that. In the meantime, I fight and fight with her to let me brush the tangles out of it. Tangled it was. Very tangled. I finally made my way through the jungle of her hair.

I fought with her to get her new pink cowgirl boots on.

I made sure that everything was packed into her backpack and we were getting ready to walk out the door. I had no time to spare; the kids had managed to use up every spare minute I'd allowed.

I should have allowed an extra half an hour because Reece had spotted his sister's backpack. He wanted his Spiderman backpack. I didn't know where it was and we were now running late. His solution? What else but to throw a major fit, to have a massive meltdown, complete with screaming, crying and rigidly standing his ground? There was no other option - I went back into the house and found his backpack in record time in the mess that is their playroom.

I loaded the kids into the van. I started the van and turned on the defroster. The windows were iced over with the lacy crystals that are pretty look at, yet very hard to get off. I grabbed the hose and turned on the water and...

The pipes were frozen, or at least, the hose was frozen.

I got my keys, went back into the house for some water and wasted yet more time. I poured a large bowl of water (a Tupperware Thatsa Bowl, for those in the know) on the windshield and got it cleared. We were finally on our way - at a time that we should have been pulling into the school parking lot.

Once we finally got to the school I took her into the office and got her tardy slip. For the first time ever, I didn't walk her to class. I didn't have time; I had class shortly myself. The look on her face when she realized I wasn't going with her was heartbreaking.

I love walking her to class, taking the time to help her put away her backpack and watch her sign in. Watching her greet her friends with smiles and hugs and stories. It's special to me, because I know that if I stop watching and walking her to class she's going to grow up before I know it and she won't want me to walk her to class - or anywhere for that matter.

I headed out to the van with Reece. My next planned stop was in Riverbank at my friend Dawn's house. Mike usually stays home with Reece on the mornings I have school, but he had to work so Dawn agreed to watch Reece. It works out well since she is the mommy to Reece's best friend, David. By the time I reached their house, Reece was sound asleep. I unloaded him from the van and started to carry him up to her house. From my shoulder, where his soft cheek was resting, I heard, "Brrrr. It's cold out here." He was awake and ready to go play with his friend.

At this point I needed coffee. I ran out the door (practically, I didn't want Dawn to feel badly) and drove straight for Starbucks. I got a white chocolate mocha and a reduced fat blueberry coffee cake and headed for school - across the city of Modesto. Traffic wasn't exactly flowing the way I felt it should, but I wasn't too horribly late.

I walked into class about 5 minutes late, which was just in time to miss the professor's lecture to the class about not missing class and showing up on time. Oops!! That's okay. It was the first class I was late to, excluding the first class. I was only late to that one because it took me 45 minutes to find a parking spot.

Class was fine; we got a lot done.

I headed straight for Dawn's house after school. When I got there, Lo was there with her lovely Emma. Emma and the boys (and Ariana, we can't forget Ariana!) were running around wreaking havoc as usual. Dawn and Lo were sitting at the table eating breakfast foods. They offered me banana bread. I said, "Sure, I'll take a little."

Dawn cut out a piece that constituted 1/4 of the baking dish and set it in front of me! I protested, "That's way too big!"

You'd think I cursed their children. Jaws dropped. Lo's eyebrow went up. "Whaddaya mean it's too big?! We just ate the whole rest of that by ourselves!"

I grabbed a knife and cut it in half, a more decent sized portion, and smeared some margarine on it. Then I ate and we all talked and giggled. Lo said that she was distracted by my chest and Dawn agreed. I blushed, I'm sure, and we talked and laughed some more.

I told Lo that I just knew that she was going to go home and blog about my distracting boobs and how I insulted them by not eating very much banana bread. She insisted that she was nicer than that and would not do it. She's staying true to her word. I love that about her. She's so honest about everything. If she's going to blog about me, she usually lets me know to expect word bubbles with things I would never say coming out of my mouth, and I love it!! I love that she's honest enough to let me know it's going to happen and I even love that she has me saying strange things.

Lo gathered up Emma and went home for a nap. Dawn and I hung out on her sofa and looked at catalogs. I told her I love her for the fact that her house was messy. It makes me feel better about my own messy house and I love that she doesn't think she has to clean it up just because I'm coming over. It's nice to know I'm not the only one who can't keep up with life.

When I left Dawn's house I felt so peaceful. Reece was so happy to see me. He even stopped playing enough to give me kisses and hugs when I got there. When I picked Alicia up from school, she ran to me with her arms outstretched, hugging me from 20 feet away with a huge bear hug that I could practically feel for the seconds it took for her to reach me.

No matter how the days start and end, those kids are my life. Every fiber of me is so in love with them that I will never take that walk out the door and not come back.

Awww, there's a windowbox of flowers. 

The door. Spiderman is a must. 

Look at the printer!! 

Can you read the "screens"? 

 

All those plugs must go somewhere... 

Replicate everything - down to the pictures!! 

What do you figure the weight limit is on that chair? 

A mini fridge is always important 

This is too funny

What do you do to your co-worker when they are out of the country for a while? You put your work time to good use and switch out all their office products to be replaced with cardboard look-alikes.

I thought that this was just too funny not to share.

If you were...

If you were the folder that has all of my syllabus papers, my test grades, my essays, my study sheets.....basically all of my stuff for my political science class, where would you be?

I'll tell you where you aren't: not with the other school stuff, not with the magazines, not mixed into the newspapers, not in the van, not in my room, the kids' rooms, with the bills, under beds, under sofas, in sofas, in the bookcases, in the cupboards, in the indoor garbage cans, in the outdoor garbage cans, in the bathroom, on the computer desk, with Alicia's school work, with my BeautiControl stuff...is there anything I've left out?

This sucks. At least I have my notes from the last class, because we're doing a city council simulation and I'm the City Clerk. I was able to write up the minutes, which is a very good thing, but my agenda is sorely lacking. It doesn't help that the City Manager I have to sit next to during our City Council meetings walked off with my book last class, either.

Perhaps I'm too old for school.

Scooby Dooby Doo!!

Today was Alicia's party with her friends from school. I feel as if my poor little girl gets cheated every year in the birthday party department. It's hard when your birthday is the same week as a holiday, even the same day at times. This year it falls the day after Thanksgiving. I know that throwing a party the the weekend after Thanksgiving is virtually guaranteeing that no one will show, so I planned this one for the weekend before.

Apparently, this does not make much difference.

I gave out 24 invitations, one to each of her classmates. I got two responses saying they could not attend as they would be out of town and I got six saying they would make it. Of the six, four actually came. I don't know what happened to the other two. One of the attendees also came with his two siblings, who went to the same preschool as Alicia, so I guess you can say that they made up for the MIA's.

Alicia wanted a Scooby Doo themed party, but I hate getting all of the themed stuff to go with it. We always have leftover supplies and I end up serving things on My Little Pony or Strawberry Shortcake paper plates for ages. This year I only got the invitations. I got a lime green tablecloth, purple napkins and orange plates. I served the chips and dog bone shaped graham crackers in dog bone shaped doggie dishes I picked up at the 99 Cent store. It all looked very Scooby Doo-ish, but was a lot cheaper!

When I asked what kind of cake she wanted she first said white. That is her favorite kind. Later she asked if she could have white and chocolate, "because some kids do like chocolate." Isn't she just the sweetest thing? I didn't want to make her a cake shaped like Scooby Doo, partly because I'm tired of buying specialty pans and only using them once. I decided I would do the Mystery Machine and make it all myself. I did the bottom layer chocolate and the top white and then trimmed the ends to the shape of the van and decorated it free-hand. Normally my frosting turns out nice and stiff, but for some reason today it was on the runny side. As a result, the cake doesn't look as good as it usually would, but it sure was yummy!




When the guests arrived, they sort of ran around wildly and played. I settled them down to color pages of Scooby Doo pictures. This was, of course, mainly so that I could have some breathing time.



After a little bit more playing and snacking on the chips and my mah-ve-lous guacamole, we sang Happy Birthday to Alicia and had our cake. It was very yummy (thank you, Betty Crocker!). I let the kids play some of the sugar high off and then it was time to open the presents. She made out like the girly-girl she is. She got a princess castle play tent, a My Little Pony, Monopoly Jr. and Yahtzee Jr. and (horror of horrors) her first Barbie, with a change of clothes and a swimming pool. I'm not crazy about the pool because all of that water can really damage the laminate flooring. I'm not crazy about Barbie because I hate the self-image she portrays. Oh well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. After her guests left I gave her a gift from us, which was the cartoon movie "Thumbelina", one that she has been asking for lately.




After gifts, I sat the kids back at the table for another activity. This time they decorated their own goody bags with Scooby Doo stickers and markers. I also let them fill the bags themselves. Hey, it was less work for me!!



Before everyone went home I assembled them for a group picture. They are just so cute at this age!! From left to right we have: Timmy, Alicia, Mica, Reece, Dennise, Jonathon and Jacob

Reece's Tonsillectomy and Adenoidectomy

I finally have a few moments where I can pop on here and let you all know how it went! He is, of course, very clingy right now. It hurts for him to eat or drink and also to talk. Swallowing hurts so he gets a bunch of spit in his mouth. He doesn't want to take his medications, which is a pain in the butt because we have to hold him down and force it. Anyhow, here's how the day went:

We had to have him there at 6:45, in Modesto, so we left the house at 6 and dropped Ali off at my sister's house so she could take her to school. We were checked in and got to sit there for about an hour while we fought with him to take his vitals and get his gown on. He wasn't having any of it.

Finally, they got an order from the doctor for Versed to calm him down and make him more cooperative. It took awhile for it to kick in, but boy, when it did it sure made a difference!! He was happy and laughing. Of course, he was also having visual hallucinations at that point.

He kept reaching his hand toward the wall and pointing, saying, "I want that." Of course, nothing was there. Then he lay back on the gurney and looked at the ceiling tiles and lights and said, "Wooooaaah! Mama!! You gotta look at this!" I humored him and lay back to look at nothing myself. Yeah, my baby was stoned.

When they wheeled him off, he waved goodbye to us and proceeded to play peek-a-boo with his blanket and the nurses. It was so cute.

We went and grabbed some McDonalds for breakfast (yuck and more yuck) and went back up to the waiting room where I inhaled a couple of cups of coffee and did some homework. Pretty soon we heard crying and screaming. Mike said, "Is that Reece?" Next we heard, "I want my mommy!!!" Yeah, it was him.

We went in and got him calmed down. He was trying his hardest to rip out the IV. The pulse oximeter didn't stand a chance. We finally got him to sleep some more and then after an hour or so he started drinking some water. We stayed there until around 12:30 or so.

The doctor thought the surgery would take between 20 and 30 minutes, but it was actually done in 15. He was a very brave little boy, but I don't want to have to go through all of it again.

Ahhhhh......

Or should I say "Aaaarrrrggghhhhh"? I feel as if I am running, running, running and getting nowhere fast. I can clean for seemingly all day and yet my house is messy. I try to eat right and yet I am gaining weight. I try to be a good mom and wife and yet I feel as if I am somehow lacking in both areas.

Oh well. That vent is over.

Reece is getting his tonsils and adenoids out. We have a surgery date, October 30, but we don't have a time. I have to remember to call the doctor and get it straightened out. How long are we supposed to wait to find out whether or not we actually have an appointment? I cannot wait for him to have this done. He has sleep apnea. It greatly affects him falling asleep and staying asleep. He is hyper during the day, bouncing off the walls, the furniture, the floor, his sister, ME. He is grumpy and crabby and lashes out. The doctor mentioned (as Reece tore around the examining room in an excellent impersonation of Dash from The Incredibles) that children with sleep apnea tend to be hyperactive and often they calm down after the surgery.

Pray with me, will you?

Hey, while you're at it, pray for my headaches. No, they aren't gone. No, the insurance hasn't started paying for the medication that actually works on me. No, I don't know what we're doing next. Right now we're putting bandaids on a missing limb. It just doesn't work. The latest is the Imitrex administered nasally. I have to stick this apparatus up my nostril and push a plunger, shooting the medication straight into my sinuses. About a minute later, the residual hits the back of my throat. It is the nastiest taste ever. I truly hate the taste; it makes me want to gag. I run for the refrigerator and look for whatever I can find to mask the taste, to drown it, to cover it up and not taste it anymore. The bitterness is consuming and as I prepare the dose, I mentally prepare for the nastiness by counting in my head and doing some deep breathing.

I really do not enjoy migraines.

Perhaps if I put books on their heads?

My kids are growing far too quickly for my liking. When we went into summer, Reece was a size 2T. That is T as in Toddler. A little guy. He had just turned 3. Now, as fall comes upon us, he is bypassing the 3T's altogether and filling out a 4T!!! Actually, I shouldn't say "filling out" because he is on the slender side. He has gotten so tall, however, that the smaller pants are all highwaters on him. It's not a good look.

Last week, he decided it was a good time to be potty-trained. We had tried in the past. I would ask him throughout the day if he needed to go to the bathroom and he'd answer no - and then promptly pee his pants within five minutes. Last week, however, was a different story. He decided he wanted to wear his underwear. I told him that if he is going to wear it, he is not to go to the bathroom in it.

"Okay." he said.

He has stuck by it. Yes, he's had a couple of accidents, but on the whole, he's trained. He has had zero accidents at night, something about which I am extremely excited! He is also very proud of himself.
Now, onto Alicia. She is growing as well. She has gotten so tall! All of the little skorts that she wore over the summer are now obscenely short on her and I am having to remove them from her dresser. I weeded everything out a couple of months ago and now I am needing to do it again. She is wearing a 6X or 7, for length, and they are, as usual, hanging off her hips. She still has yet to break the 50 pound mark, yet she is already over 4 feet tall. Considering that she is going to be 6 next month, that's quite something.

In addition to trying to catch up to her mom in height, she has been losing things as well - out of her mouth! That's right, she is starting to lose her baby teeth. She lost the first one on Sept. 28th while at school. I was kind of bummed because I really wanted to be there and see when it came out. She was so excited, though, that I couldn't be sad for too long. She was really excited when she woke up the next morning and found a dollar under her pillow!
Last Friday night, the 13th, my sister and her girls were here for dinner. Alicia knows that Karnette works in a dental office and asked her if she could pull the second tooth. Karnette was more than happy to do it! She grabbed a tissue, reached in, and pulled. Out it came. I have such a brave little girl. Personally, I think she just wanted another dollar.

The next morning, when she woke up and found her dollar under her pillow, she was beaming ear to ear, her gapped-toothed smile just lighting up the morning. As we got ready for the day, she said to me, "Mom, I know what the tooth fairy looks like."

"Oh yeah?" I asked.

"Yep. She is tall, with long brown hair and she's beautiful like you are."
Oops. Has she figured it out already, just two teeth into the deal? I mean, I haven't exactly said that there is a tooth fairy, but I haven't said that there isn't, either.

She continued, "But the tooth fairy has wings."

So far she has lost the bottom front teeth. Currently, the top two front teeth are loosening up, as well as another on the bottom. How long do you figure she'll keep believing in an actual tooth fairy? Because, again, she is growing up so quickly, after all.

Late night ramblings.

Alicia lost her first tooth while at school on September 28. She was listening to a story and playing with it and apparently the teacher pulled it out. I kind of felt bad because I wanted to be there when it happened. I just knew it was going to come out just about any time. She was so excited!! She brought it home in an envelope with a tooth on it that read "Congratulations, Alicia!"

She got a dollar from the tooth fairy and was more excited that I had imagined. What a sweet girl.

Reece is going to have his tonsils and adenoids removed. His breathing has sounded horrible for so long when he sleeps. I finally videoed it and took him to the doctor's office. The doctor listened and then checked inside his throat. Sure enough, the tonsils are very swollen. He said, "Yep, I think it's time for them to come out." We were referred to another doctor to schedule surgery.

We finally got to see that doctor, it took about a month to get into his office, and the first thing he said when he checked them was, "Wow!! Look at the size of those things!!" Apparently Reece only has about 1/4 inch or so between them. The doctor also wants to take out the adenoids because Reece has sleep apnea. You would really have to hear him to believe it. It's horrible. I cannot say how many times I've listened to him and said under my breath, "Breathe, baby, breathe..."

Anyhow, his surgery date is the day before Halloween. We don't celebrate Halloween, so that's not a big deal for us. I'll just give him extra ice cream that night.

Oh, another thing the specialist mentioned is that he has observed that many kids with sleep apnea are hyperactive. I think he brought it up because Reece was literally bouncing off the walls in the office and jumping everywhere. Part of it is naturally him, but come on now, he had a whole new audience!! He HAD to show off!! The doctor said to imagine how we are when we're sleep-deprived. We get jittery and over-active to compensate for being tired. Perhaps my child will settle down after the surgery? I can hope, can't I?

Today, I went to my friend Dawn's 29th birthday party. Dawn is so cool. Really, she is. Everybody loves her, to the point of stalking her. It would be kind of funny if she didn't get a little paranoid about it.

Anyhow, she didn't get fancy birthday parties while growing up. Her dad was raising her and her mom wasn't around much. Dawn has always made a big deal out of her kids' parties because she didn't get that. This year, her mom found out how she felt and threw her a Princess Party. Isn't that cool?

We got to color pictures of Belle and Beast ahead of time and bring them for judging. There were two standing princess cakes, made just by her mom. Every woman and girl got a tiara. We played Kiss the Frog, which was great for laughs. Imagine full-grown women putting on lipstick, putting on a blindfold, turning 3 times to get dizzy and then kissing a picture of a frog taped to the wall. Quite funny to watch. I lost, badly, but that's just fine with me. I'm not real keen on kissing frogs anyway.

We even had a pinata. Dawn got to go first and we got plenty of pictures of her smacking the heck out of 3 Disney princesses pasted to a heart. The kids all went to town on the candy. What a great party it was.