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October 17th, 2006
When Cameron was an infant, Dave cut Cam’s index finger while clipping his tiny little nails. It bled a lot, we were all traumatized, and since then I have been the Official Clipper of Nails in our house.
Well, Dave decided this morning that Addison needed a trim. So he clipped her nails, and you guessed it– off with her thumb. Or at least, a chunk of it. He reports that she screamed for a few minutes, then went back to her typical smiling and cooing, but her little thumb would not stop bleeding. It was apparently bad enough that he took her to the doctor’s office for help, and our pediatrician cauterized her thumb.
Let me repeat that: our pediatrician CAUTERIZED MY SWEET LITTLE BABY’S THUMB.
Now she’s totally fine. Trying to suck her blackened thumb tip and happy as a clam. I am beside myself and Dave is suicidal. I said to him, “Dave, let’s make a deal about the kids’ nails. Don’t ever, ever, ever, EVER never, cut them again.” He said, “Believe me.”
And on a day when I won’t be home until this afternoon to smother her in hugs and kisses. Fortunately, a friend of mine with a contact at Stride-Rite is going to get me shoes for 50% off, so I’m going to go do some shopping now. You know, just to make Addison’s thumb feel better…..
October 17th, 2006
I’m wearing these really cute camo pants that I ordered before I found out I was pregnant, then they were on backorder until after I couldn’t wear them anymore. When I walked into the office someone asked me if I had been hunting. Also, I have baby spitup on my left shoulder.
I forgot all my school stuff at home, and now Dave and the kids will have to bring it all to me after lunch. However:a few weeks ago on the day of my midterm, Dave accidentally left the office without the freshly copied tests, forcing me to call the office and beg the scary secretary to make copies for me in the 30 minutes between Dave’s coming home empty-handed and the actual start time of the test. So I think, after this, we’ll be even.
We took the kids downtown over the weekend, for the city Halloween celebration. The photos we took of them are soooo cute. The photos which inadvertently have my ass in them are soooo unfortunate. I MUST get my butt back in shape.
Have I mentioned that the office is draped in chocolate??
October 16th, 2006
October 16, 2005 was the last day of my life before I discovered that I was pregnant with Addison. Last year at this time I had no idea that I was about to become the mother of three. I went back and was reading my journal for the 2 weeks immediately following my positive pregnancy test, how I had bleeding (I read what I had written about what I called “spotting.” In retrospect I recall being afraid to describe it properly, because it would somehow jinx me!), how my progesterone was low. I don’t recall the exact moment that I started to believe in Addison and realize she was truly on her way, but I do recall the outpouring of support I got here, every time I posted, and I can’t tell you all how much it meant to me (and still means to me). I’m sitting here now, toh, with Addison chewing her fingers on my lap. If, on October 16, 2005, you had shown me a photo of Addison and me taken right now, I would have laughed at you and said “Impossible.” Funny how that word hardly ever means what it’s supposed to mean.
Gabby’s quote of the day, when I asked her what she wanted for breakfast: “Mom, my body wants oatmeal, but my brain keeps telling it to ask for candy.”
October 12th, 2006
I think I am officially completely stressed out. Why? What’s different about this fall? Well, Addison obviously, but she’s a joy– taking care of her does not stress me out in the least (or even make me lose any sleep most of the time); she is nothing but a source of happiness. Also it’s the fact that Dave is gone so very much this fall, and we’ve added on soccer and gymnastics, and although I have scaled back at work I do still work. And I think it’s just…. too….. much.My mom wants a family photo taken, and my bil is a photographer so he’s going to set it up for us. It somehow fell on me to schedule it, which I dutifully tried to do, all day yesterday. Which also included mediating a spat over the time, and soothing hurt feelings, and starting over twice when people forgot they were going to be out of town, etc. etc. to infinity. I probably made 25 phone calls regarding this one issue, all the while shopping for picture frames, dragging Gabby, Addison and I all over town to find Gabby the promised pumpkin muffie, forgetting to return the Blockbuster rental, blah blah blah. By the time Dave got home I was miserable, and then I spent 1/2 hour listening to him argue with the bank over a pending transaction (a shop had put a hold on our account for the total purchase amount, but then processed the sale separately. But the bank was still listing the original transaction as pending and refusing to release the money etc). We were going out to an Irish pub for dinner last night so the kids could listen to some live Irish music, and we almost didn’t go just because I was so stressed out. I was fine by the time we got home….
and now this morning my sister IM’ed me that the portrait date we all settled on is out, because she’s going to be on vacation still. I just freaking lost it– not to her, but my head just exploded. Have you NOT been there for all of these frigging conversations about October 29?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?! WTF!?!?!?!!?!?? I told Dave about it, loudly and angrily and with plenty of F-bombs, then realized that I was at the point of tears and past it. I am sitting at my desk, trying to calm down, and telling myself that this is not that big of a deal. And I realized that I am maxed out. For October and November, I cannot add one more thing to my current load. With Dave trying to finish so much schooling at once, I am basically carrying the load of the house by myself. This is the busy season at the office and I’m trying to get it all together at odd hours and having to put in more time than I would like. Yet another of my students wants to take an Incomplete for the course and finish in January, which means more work for me. I’ve had the same contact lenses in my eyes for 8 weeks because every time I try to get over to pick up my new ones, something frigging happens. I just can’t take on anything else. He’s right. I am totally stressed out. Once Dave’s semester ends, I’ll be fine. But for now– as I told Dave, I feel like I’ve been jogging since the semester began, and I can’t stop until it ends.
October 10th, 2006
Today is my 8th wedding anniversary! What are we doing, you ask? Well…. Dave has class tonight. So last Friday we had a date, and this weekend we have another minidate (although the kids will be along on that one). I have to be in the office this morning, so I left him a lovey note on the message board in the kitchen. And when I get home early this afternoon, I’ll bring him a pumpkin latte and make him a steak dinner. That, and our date last Friday, is all he’s getting from me this year– we have a 3-month-old baby and we are crazy busy, so we previously agreed to make it very low-pressure this year. I know he’s got something cute planned for me, and I so hope he is following my lead and going low-key. I hate it when he one-ups me on special occasions…..
D*mn it. I’m going to have to stop at the Irish shop on my way home and get him a Guinness jersey or something. I just know that if I walk in with nothing but a latte, he’ll have something awesome for me.
October 8th, 2006
Remember how f-ing busy we are this fall, how Dave signed me up for yoga because he said I needed the time to myself. Remember how the kids run to me when I walk in the door, yelling, “Mommeeeee!!!!!!!” and knocking me down with hugs.
Remember Cameron scoring goals in his soccer games… sometimes for his team, sometimes for the other team. Remember how sweet and accepting he was to the special needs girl who came to his class. Remember the time he said “nuts,” and when I asked him if he knew what that meant, told me shamefacedly that it meant “crazy penis.” Remember how much fun it is to do homework with him, how quickly he’s picking it all up. Remember how he calls me “Ju” or “Julie” 90% of the time.
Remember how Gabby sprinkles every sentence with “absolutely” or “actually:” “Mom, this chicken is absolutely too hot for me.” “My pink Care Bear is actually taking a nap.” Remember how she drools all over her carseat when she falls asleep in the car. Remember how blindingly beautiful she is when she smiles. Remember how she smiles with her entire body.
Remember how Addison always puts her hand on my hand when I nurse her. Remember her sweet little face, asleep in my arms. Remember how she has learned to growl and does it all the time. Remember how d*mn much she looks like Gabby. Remember that she is gorgeous in her white hat with the little ears. Remember how proud she is of herself when she’s in the Bumbo or the Exersaucer. Remember the time Dave said, “Some day, the older two will be at college and Addison will be the only kid here.”
Remember all this stuff. Remember all the little things about being the mother of 3 kids under 6. Remember how it is sometimes joyful and sometimes stressful and sometimes tedious and sometimes hilarious, and how always, underneath it all, I am thinking how much I love being their mother.
October 5th, 2006
I went to the Room Mom meeting yesterday. It was fine; we spent most of the time we were there just chatting actually. There were 4 mothers there, and during the conversation I mentioned that Cameron had hit his face on the playground equipment over Labor Day weekend. I said that we felt lucky that the injury hadn’t been far worse. Another mom said that her daughter’s jaw was broken 2 years ago when she was accidentally hit with an aluminum baseball bat. Another mom said that her son had open-heart surgery at 11 days old, and then her second son was born with bilateral club foot. The third mom told us that her daughter’s baby teeth had come in without enamel, and so they all rotted away and had to be pulled, and now her 5yo daughter wears bridges. She also told us about her friend who had a baby last week. The birth was complicated by shoulder dystocia, and both the baby’s and the mother’s heart rates were plummeting, so the doctor ended up breaking both the baby’s arms to get her out immediately.
And I sat there, with my healthy son at school, my healthy daughter playing in the next room, and my healthy baby asleep in my arms, and was humbled by the grace and strength of these other moms. I don’t always appreciate my family’s wellness, I think; I might focus on Cameron’s allergies, or obsess over Gabrielle’s strawberry birthmarks, or worry over Addison’s blocked tear duct. I think that that is a bit like complaining that my lottery winnings didn’t come in brand-new bills. I’m going to try to remember this perspective in the future, and have a little more gratitude for what I have.
October 2nd, 2006
As I type this, I am wearing some paper wings and a Hawaiian flower headband, attached to me rather forcefully by Gabby. Addison is sleeping peacefully in the swing. And Cameron and Gabby are playing some game with the pencil cups from their art table, which for some reason they are calling the “Sexy Cups of Power.”
I don’t really want to know why. I’m pretending it’s not happening.
ETA I just told Dave about the Sexy Cups of Power. He says that’s what he calls my bras.
September 29th, 2006
So soccer practice was moved up to 5:45 yesterday. Thursday. The day when all things going on in our lives converge. Dave has class, plus all the kids were at the sitter. Today he had to travel out of state to look at a news studio, so we had to get everything ready ahead of time. Plus, “Grey’s Anatomy” was on last night. Here was our plan:
3:30 leave the office.
4:30 pick up the kids
4:45 feed them an early dinner (leftover roast and potatoes) and get Cam ready for soccer.
5:15 feed Addison
5:30 leave early enough to gas up both cars for today and make it to practice on time.
6:00 Dave leaves the practice to go to class.
7:00 Kids and I are home. Baths and getting backpacks ready for tomorrow.
8:00 Hot chocolate and book reading on my bed, while my new DVR records “Grey’s Anatomy.”
8:30 early bedtime for the older two. I nurse Addison to sleep.
9:00 I watch “Grey’s Anatomy” and then read my book until Dave gets home.
Here’s what really happened:
4:15 Leave the office. I am more than a little stressed that we’re leaving so late.
5:00 Traffic stopped dead because of an accident. DEAD. I am in a near-panic. Plus I really need to pee.
5:25 Almost home and stopped by a TRAIN. Gah. REALLY need to pee.
5:35 Home. No time for dinner. Dave gets Cam into his shin guards and cleats and takes him off to practice with a power bar, while I feed Addison. Since Dave has class, I must meet him at practice by 6:00.
5:45 Gabby has taken off her clothes.
5:55 Almost to practice and…. STOPPED BY A TRAIN. AAAAAHHHHHHHHH.
6:00 At practice. Gabby chooses to wait until Dave has left before announcing she has to go potty.
6:30 We leave the field and go to fill the tank before heading home. I unwisely choose the gas station near the McDonald’s and the kids whine for Happy Meals.
7:00 a sampling of comments on their very late dinner: “Mom, why are we eating this?” and the succinct, “Ewww. Dis is just gwoss, Mommy.” [N.B. I, of course, am eating nothing because I'm feeding Addison.]
7:30 Baths and reloading of backpacks.
8:00 Hot chocolate and books. Addison demands a second dinner.
8:30 Older kids go to bed, and Addison helps me clean up the house and put myself together.
9:00 Addison falls asleep. I put her down in her crib and turn on my DVR to watch “Grey’s Anatomy.”
9:54 The last few seconds of the show are playing. Derek and Addison (no, that’s not where we got the name) are sitting on the bed, discussing the end of their marriage. Suddenly the bathroom doors opens and I get a quick glimpse of a man coming out. Reaction shot of Derek and Addison, and the camera is panning back to the mystery man……..
9:55 My DVR recording ends there. THERE. RIGHT THERE!!!!!!!!! AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHO IS THE MYSTERY MAN?!?!?!?!?!! WHY DID I AGREE TO GET THIS FREAKING DVR IF IT ISN’T GOING TO RECORD THE WHOLE SHOW?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!??! WHEN WILL THIS HELLISH DAY AND ITS SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS BE AT AN END?!?!?!???!?
10:02 I call my sister and find out who it was. She laughs at me for not recording the very end.
Ah well. Today is a new day. Please God.
September 13th, 2006
I had to visit a client this morning, and his office is on a pretty ritzy and high-security campus. My plan had been to show up a bit early and pump in the parking lot, in a secluded spot (hopefully) before my meeting. So I pulled up to the guard house at the entrance, and there was a man and a woman inside. They said, “Who are you here for?” I told them, then said, “But before you call him, could I ask a favor?” I told them I was a nursing mother and needed to pump, and could we please dispense of calling ahead to announce my presence until I was finished. I must look reasonable because the female guard agreed, and was just giving me a map and showing me a good place to go when the male guard, apparently ignoring everything transpiring in front of him, hung up the phone and announced brightly, “Okay!! And Mr. F. will be waiting for you at Entrance 6.”
CRAP!!!! He called ahead to announce that I was here!!!!! Here are my new possible scenarios: 1. I’m pumping in the lot and my client COMES LOOKING FOR ME, or sends security to come looking for me. The image of me attached to my breast pump with my client walking up to the car almost made me pass out. Or 2. I don’t pump, my meeting runs long, and I start leaking. Now my mental image is of me with 2 big wet spots on my stylish pale linen shirt, trying to explain my ideas while nonchalantly pressing my forearms against my nipples with all my might. I glared daggers at the male guard and appealed to the female guard. She winced and said, “All I can do is call him and tell him you’ll be a few minutes.”
Fine. I thanked her, mentally cursed the other guy, and drove onto the property to find a spot. No secluded spots– I might as well have parked at the grocery store on Saturday morning. As I pumped, I was in full paranoia mode, looking around at all sides for approaching people and wondering what my client thought I was doing (for some reason, I was convinced he would think I was on the property somewhere, taking a giant emergency dump). When i finally finished up, called my client, and met him at the entrance, he said, “What happened?” I opened my mouth with absolutely no idea what to say– I had been too busy imagining the giant-dump scenario to come up with an excuse beforehand– and out of my mouth came, “I had an emergency phone call that I had to attend to.” Fine. Except then we went into the meeting, and there sat about 5,000 middle-aged men, all of whom had gone straight into the conference room as soon as the guard made the call, and all of whom clearly believed my “emergency call” had had something to do with tampons.
On my way out, I handed my parking pass to the female guard with a smile and said, “Thank you so much for your help.” The male guard said, “You’re welc–” and just shut up, stunned into silence by the look of pure hatred on my face. Idiot.
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