Thursday, July 28, 2011

I Love Two

     Where the hell did July go!? I'm fairly embarrassed that I only posted one blog entry for this entire month. In my defense, (or "here's my best excuse" ) it has been a busy month. We've had the cottage to deal with- insurance adjusters, contractors, demos, starting the renovations, dealing with the police who swear they are investigating (bon chance mes amis on that one), calling all the renters and returning their deposits and cancelling the house showings. Also, we've sold our house in Ontario! So there was the house inspection and lawyers to sell our souls to...and now we face the god awful notion of packing up all of our crap and organizing a cross-town move.

     But July has also hosted a milestone for our little family. Dryden turned two; we celebrated with a back yard party with family and friends. It was actually the first birthday where one of our children understood the concept of "birthday party" and that made the day extra joyful and exciting. Watching him open his gifts, bows and curly cues whizzing in all directions, and smile at the candles on the ice cream cake melted my heart into a puddle of emotional mommy goop. I can still remember the day he was born as vividly as though it were yesterday, and not 732 days ago. It was a Saturday. And I had to yell at Nick: "Sober up for Christ sake! I can't drive myself to the hospital." Good times- great memories. Our neighbours had a big backyard bash that day/night and Nick was hammered, clearly not expecting to be called upon to do anything coherent. His father drove me to the hospital and Nick passed out in our room as soon as the nurses made up a bed for him. Super helpful labour coach, he was not. {This time around, there will be a moratorium on booze for the two weeks before my due date.}

       In honour of Dryden's decent into the dreaded Terrible Two's, I have brainstormed all that I love about my very old two year old. Lately, my mind has been anxious and excited for all the things I love about newborns, and it could use a dose of Toddler Love.

- When he falls asleep while eating lunch. I'm a mean mommy- I keep saying his name so he jerks back awake and looks around all confused before his head slowly starts to droop again.
-Tea party time. My kids won't drink plain water unless it is poured from a cheap plastic teapot into an equally cheap plastic tea cup.
-The joy that a transport trailer driving by induces.
-The first time each summer when their bare feet touch the grass; they yank their feet up into a quasi-frog position and look at me with eyes as big as saucers.
-My kids think potatoes are bouncy balls- most days it cracks me up when they find the bag in the pantry and throw them and the dog goes nuts trying to retrieve them.
-When Dryden pretends: chopping fake veggies at the play kitchen; talking on the "phone" aka the battery-less remote control from a long dead TV; vacuuming the floor with a plastic hockey stick.
-Their ability to control the dog highlights my complete lack of ability to do so. All Noelle has to say is "Sit!" and down he goes, sitting all pretty. Dryden simply yells, "No! Mine!" and the dog drops whatever toy he was trying to slink off with. Meanwhile, I'd be chasing the little fucker around the table for half an hour, getting more and more enraged. Either the dog is utterly stupid...or I am.
-Dryden's obsession with gas tanks. We showed him on his big toy car where you put the gas in to make the car run. Now it is impossible to pass any vehicle without him opening the gas tank cover, looking in and proclaiming, "yup...full." Next he'll be kicking every one's tires...
-How awesome he thinks the toilet is. Flushing it brings gales of laughter and clapping.
-He dances at the drop of a hat. Text msg ring tones, McDonald's commercials, singing toys, the dinging the car door makes when left open...
-And he only has two dance moves: The Hop, and The Side-to-Side Shuffle. Both moves are unimpressive really. Actually, he's mastered the two dance moves that all men do...
-How unbelievably fast he gets dirty. Clean outfits go on after breakfast. I turn around to bring the dishes to the sink, turn back and wtf? he's covered in juice, sticky green stuff, pudding stains magically appear like some cheap David Blaine trick and his face is so grimy he looks like a 40 year old coal miner. What the hell just happened in the last 20 seconds??
-His new favorite expression is "Yeeeehaw!" from Toy Story. Cracks Nick up every time.
-He loves giving bedtime kisses. I want to squeeze him every time he stands up in his crib, rubbing his heavy eyes, and reaching out to ensure I don't forget. The terrible 2s will be tolerable so long as a bedtime kiss waits for me at the end of each day xo

Friday, July 8, 2011

The Week That Broke Me

     This week was a festering, buzzing fly encrusted pile of crap. The beginning of the week held great promise- I had my first ultrasound. I'm always filled with excitement and renewed anticipation whenever I see proof that there really is life living inside me. The ultrasound went well, I saw our baby; it waved at me. And that's where things started the slow degenerative slide into the realm of craptastic. I couldn't pee after the ultrasound (anyone who has ever had an ultrasound understands that I had to drink 6.8 gallons of water prior to my appointment and sympathizes that I was certainly ready to hit up the bathroom.) I had been having trouble peeing for a few weeks now. Sometimes, even though I am full and willing, it takes up to an hour before I can go. And once, I had to go to the ER and have a catheter inserted so I could void. It was embarrassing- but no one was overly concerned so neither was I. Until Tuesday. I came home and tried to pee again but to no avail. I ran the tap water next to me. Nope. I shifted positions. No go. I hoped in the frigging shower. No. And now I was soggy. At this point my bladder sent an urgent signal to my brain informing it of an impending explosion if I didn't figure things out soon {code yellow! code yellow! reservoir overflowing! evacuate stat!} I called Nick, and almost sounded coherent explaining that he needed to turn around and come home. This was done while 'dancing' around the dining room table- the stupid dog hopping and barking after me thinking I was playing with him instead of trying to placate my bladder. I couldn't wait; I ran to my neighbours' and told her that the kids were napping in their rooms and Nick was on his way home. If the house happens to burst into flames- please go rescue the little ones...and then I ran to the truck and headed to the hospital.
   Side Note: Although I am no longer up for nomination for Mother Of The Year, Julie is certainly Neighbour Extraordinaire. She came over and read a book on the stairs while waiting for Nick to arrive home. Also, the house did not burst into flames. Small wonders...
     So in the catheter went...relief! Until the doctor told me that it was going to stay in and that I was going to see a neurologist the next day. A neurologist? Well. Shit. That can't be good. Home I went with a head full of worry and a bag strapped to my leg.
     The neurologist took 10 minutes to send my back to the ER- c'est pas ma job essentially. Different ER doctor. Took him two hours to figure out what was wrong and solve it.
   Side Note: I must admit, the four previous doctors may have figured it out too if I had given them all the information. "Nope, I'm not on any medication Sir" ~ Rachel
     At the last minute I told this doctor that I was on meds for morning sickness and Bingo! I am allergic to Diclectin and my reaction presented itself in the form of urinary retention a.k.a not being able to pee on my own. Stop taking the pills and spend the next three days "re-training" my bladder. The urologist I saw yesterday set me up with home care, so a nurse came to my house to remove the catheter today and will come back to re-insert it if need be.
    So I can pee again!!  But the vomiting from morning sickness had reared its ugly head again. I just can't win.

     This week we also discovered that our cottage was broken into and trashed. The insurance will cover it, but we will lose the rental income from it for the rest of the summer...and we had to take it off the market as well (hard to sell a cottage with water damage and holes in the I'm told anyways.) Now Nick will have to work some serious overtime to keep our budget balanced and to compensate for the loss of my income.

     I had to buy a dress yesterday. We have Nick's best friend's wedding to attend this weekend and with all the peeing issues I was having, things got left 'til the last minute. I went to my urologist appointment early and went shopping. Miracle of all miracles, I found a pretty dress that fits and baubles to match and went to the cash. Where was my wallet? Oh that's right- on the kitchen counter next to the laptop where I checked my bank account. I had $12 in loonies and toonies in the cup holder of the car. I put the dress back and sat in the car. And cried. After my moment of self pity had passed, I went into Walmart and bought the cheapest magazine I could find. I then headed to McDonalds and got a happy meal and snack sized Mcflurry- extra Oreos crumbs please. I sat in the sun and ate my lunch, read my (surprisingly good) magazine and collected my marbles.

     I'm ready for a better weekend. Or at the very least, not a crappy one. Please.