Dirty Little Secret

Thank you guys so much for all of your thoughts, prayers, hugs and support. You all must have superpowers, because Hubby got out of the hospital last night. It’s just such a relief to have him home, I can’t even tell you.

It turns out that his left bundle branch in his heart is partially blocked. He is on a bunch of drugs to help unblock it and lower his blood pressure. So it’s not great news, but it’s not horrible news either. We’re slowly learning about it and working on making changes to our diet (we’d already cut out trans fats and switched to whole grains at home, at least). And we’re going to use all the money we used to spend on our vices (eating out too much, alcohol, sometimes cigarettes - and don’t worry, I haven’t had any of the naughty vices lately) to join a gym.

So we’re just trying to take this as a wake up call for a healthier lifestyle.

I will catch up with all of you soon.

So Friday afternoon, Hubby goes to the doctor for a check-up (because we finally have health insurance again, did I mention that?). We expect that he will get a long lecture about his blood pressure and a couple of prescriptions.

Instead, I get a phone call from the perky receptionist. “Mrs.Jerseygirl? Your husband wanted me to call you and let you know that he’s on his way to the emergency room”

Me: “What? Why? “

Receptionist, in an upbeat voice that should be used to sell juicers on late night infomercials: ” Well, he had very high blood pressure when he came in and his EKG was abnormal so an ambulance is taking him to the ER at Valley. He wanted me to let you know that your car is still at the doctor’s office. But you can meet him at the ER, if you want.”

So for a little while, I just stand in my kitchen. Then I realize I can’t erase the past few minutes, so I call my parents.

They rush up here so that my mom can stay with the kids, who are napping, and my dad can take me to our car. The doctor calls while they are on the way to explain things a bit better but all I really remember about that is that he says Hubby will be fine. And that some big shot cardiologist will be seeing him at the hospital.

It feels like forever until I get to the ER and the sullen guy in reception directs me to Hubby. Hubby is alone and loopy looking. I want to cry, but I don’t. I don’t think that will help. Various doctors come in and chat as we hold hands. An ultradsound tech comes in to do an ultrasound of his heart. I babble.

The cardiologist tells us that Hubby did not have a heart attack, but he is concerned. Between the super high blood pressure and something off about the left side of his heart, they are keeping him over night.

My parents keep the kids and I stay with Hubby until is settled in his room and feeling less loopy - many hours later.

That night, I drive home sobbing.

Even though it is now Monday, Hubby is still in the hospital.

They’ve been concerned about his potassium levels. They’re trying to figure out what’s wrong with his heart. They’re trying to find the best drugs for keeping his blood pressure down. At least, that’s what I think. There have been so many doctors, and a lot of them have very thick accents. It’s hard to follow.

Hubby is stir crazy and stressing about all of the work he is missing. I feel like I will break if one thing goes wrong. And by wrong, I mean if I drop a plate. Ironflower and Lovebug seem to be handling things okay - provided I don’t scar them with my short temper.

So, I apologize for not reading your blog or answering your comments lately. I’ll be back soon.

On a brighter note, the houseguests have left.

Nausea, exhaustion

all from a little round grape

I want my caffeine!

If the general first trimester yuckiness wasn’t enough, this is the advice I got from my weekly pregnancy newsletter this morning:

Start a daily ritual to connect with your baby. Diane Sanford, a clinical psychologist who focuses on pregnancy and postpartum adjustment, encourages women to set aside two five- to ten-minute periods a day to think about their baby. Just after waking up and before going to sleep works well for many expectant moms. During these times, sit quietly and gently rest your hands on your belly. Focus on your breathing and then start thinking about your baby (your hopes and dreams, your intentions as a parent, etc.). It’s a great way to initiate the bonding process and to help you plan for the kind of parent you want to be.

I hate advice like this. And had I read this crap when I was pregnant with Ironflower, I would have felt so guilty. At that time, I was working. I fell asleep as soon as I got into bed and rolled out when the alarm went off for the third time in the morning. Sure, I chatted with her when I drove to work and at other points in the day, but I never sat quietly and focused on my breathing while thinking about her. It’s just not my way. I chat with the Grape (that’s this week’s fetus size) often, too. But when I have a chance to sit quietly, I’ll be sleeping, thanks.

But what about “initiating the bonding process”? Give me a break. This makes the bonding process sound all complicated, like it’s something you have to work at. Granted, there are people who take longer to bond with their babies than “normal”, but it’s still something that just happens - it’s not rocket science. And it happens even when a woman doesn’t carry her child, so why stress out a woman in the first trimester with advice like this? (Though if you choose to do this, I’m not judging. Go right ahead, as long as it actually makes you happy.)

Let’s chat, shall we? I have a few things I’d like to share about my life these days.

1. I have my first post up at Prefabcosm.com, which is the work-at-home job I’ve mentioned. Mostly I do research, though.

2. I’m getting used to feeling nauseous all the time, but I’m really bitter about the fact that all of my pants/jeans/skirts are already so uncomfortable that all I wear are yoga pants and the 7$ maternity jeans I got on Target.com. With the other two, I didn’t wear maternity clothes until the second trimester. This is just so wrong.

3. The houseguests are still around. They have been staying at my parents’, though they often spend an afternoon here. I’d like to ask your opinion on a few things about them, because they seem to think that we’re the weird ones. (BTW, this is really not Hubby’s fault and he feels guilty enough, so don’t pick on him, okay? This is really about them.)

-Would you ever invite yourself to stay with non-family members for longer than a weekend? (apparently, they also spent six weeks staying with a family in Brazil)

-If you were staying at someone’s house, would you leave their coffee mug in the sink while you put all of your dishes in the dishwasher?

-If you were staying at a virtual stranger’s house after assuring them that you would be buying your own food, would you eat their tomatoes, eggs and bread after they said you could have some lettuce?

-If you were staying an hour’s train ride from New York City for three weeks, would you only go into the city three times, instead spending your days watching TV, playing a computer game, reading and working on your book based on characters you created with your friends in high school?

-If you were having a lovely dinner at the home of your friend’s in-laws, who are letting you stay with them, would you get up and walk away from the table while all of the other adults were still talking? And would you then motion for your girlfriend to join you so that she could rub your neck?

-Would you be pissed if, the hostess of the home you were staying in for two weeks asked you to stay out of the kitchen one morning (instead of cooking your normal fried breakfast) because she was scrubbing its floor?

-Would you say thank you if someone folded your laundry for you?

4. I took Lovebug to the new pediatrician today for his belated two year check-up (because we FINALLY have health insurance! Yay us!). I LOVE the new pediatrician and her staff. But she is concerned about Lovebug’s articulation - I understand him more than 50% of the time (apparently 50% is the norm for two year olds), but other people probably don’t. If it doesn’t get better within the next month, I’m to call Early Intervention. But I’m wondering if I should just call now? I’m also wondering if frustration over us not understanding him is what causes his meltdowns.

5. I have signed the children up for story time at the library. I am afraid. When I used to take Ironflower to story time in Kansas City, she would not sit still for any of it. She ran around until the craft time came. While I think school might have mellowed her, I’m pretty sure Lovebug will not deign to sit with me and listen to a story when we do that at home. But it’s free and will keep them entertained for thirty minutes. So what if it raises my blood pressure, right?

6. This post really wasn’t that funny, was it? How come when other bloggers write their random posts I always find them funny, but I can’t do it on my own?

When I grow up, I want to be Stefanie Wilder-Taylor. I realize that it will be difficult, seeing as she’s at most a few years older than I am and that, despite all my wishing, I am still not able to turn into people way cooler than myself. But I feel like it’s worth a try anyway. Because Stefanie Wilder-Taylor just wrote a book called, Naptime Is the New Happy Hour and I am madly in love with it.

I guess you could call it a parenting advice book, but one written by an actual mother. And not one of those mothers who can breastfeed while staring at the wall because she finds it so satisfying to watch her child suckle that she doesn’t need a book or reality TV to keep herself from crying from the boredom. No, this book is written by a mother who can admit that sometimes parenting small people is bor-ing. And extremely annoying. Wilder-Taylor describes life with a toddler like this:

“If they (the toddlers) filled out a profile on eHarmony.com, you’d never be a match. And if you were accidentally sent on a blind date, chances are you wouldn’t be able to agree on a restaurant, let alone make it through the chicken fingers before you said, “Check, please.” But unlike a blind date, you can’t get a friend to call your cell phone and pretend there’s a family emergency or just do tequila shots to get through it. You’re pretty much stuck with your impulse-control-challenged new partner. The sooner you realize your toddler is not purposely trying to drive you crazy, they’re just being their own person, the happier you’ll be.”

For once, parenting advice that actually speaks to MY previous experiences! Because when I read most parenting books, or talk to most other moms, I get the vibe that these people have NEVER done tequila shots. Even the books that are supposed to be hip, I know that they are not aimed at people like me. They are aimed at people like a former co-worker of mine: For the full year BEFORE she got pregnant, she trained herself to wake up at the same time every day (6am), quit drinking, started following the “Best Odds” diet and created a spreadsheet to compare parenting philosophies. I, however, was enjoying the opportunity to sleep late and eat ice cream for dinner right up until I gave birth. Between the book and the great interview at Mommybloggers, I’m pretty sure Stefanie is more my kind of person.

Her book is divided into three sections: Your New and Improved But Strangely Less Exciting Life, The Culture of Toddler and Who Are You. The chapters cover everything from childhood illness, mind-numbing playdates, soul-killing tantrums and the urban-legends of parenting (frequent sex, for example). Wilder-Taylor manages to cover all the important parenting basics with half the pages and twice the snarkiness of the the average parenting book.

Naptime Is the New Happy Hour is also part memoir of life with a toddler. And as most of us know, life with a toddler can be pretty damn funny (after the fact, of course). Wilder-Taylor’s stories are super damn funny and easy to relate to.  If you’ve ever wanted to smack a pediatrician or a smug mom at the playground, this book is for you. And until your book arrives, you can check out Stefanie’s blog, Baby on Bored.

This review brought to you by Mothertalk.

I’ve spent the last two days catching up on the blogs in my reader, as well as posting and replying to my comments. And even though I’d caught up on my reading by 11 last night, today I have 40 posts to read (Don’t any of you EVER take a break? I’m just wondering). And my own post to write. In addition to my work at home job, cleaning and oh yeah, taking care of my children.

Because of our precarious financial situation and our messy house, Hubby has demanded that I quit blogging.

He thinks I’m wasting my time and talent on an unpaid activity.

He doesn’t understand about writing practice, my love of the blogger community and my desperate need for attention.

And for the good of our marriage and family, I have to see his point. I mean, I do stay up too late/skip cleaning/let the children watch too much TV just so that I can blog more. So, this will be my last post. I just want you all to know how much I love you and will miss reading you every day.

*April Fool! Like Hubby would demand that I do anything! Especially quit blogging, as he knows it’s often the tenuous thread between me and sanity. In fact, this post was actually his idea - after I expressed jealousy awe over the success of his April Fool’s post, I have discovered that Scientology is the Best!

I often fantasize about jobs that I’m never going to have. I mean, I’m way too lazy (and poor) to go back to school to become a librarian. No one is going to put me on camera on one of those travel shows like Samantha Brown has. And I think my parents would have told me if I was an heiress by now.

But last night I found something I’m pretty qualified for, I think. I was watching Lockup: San Quentin (what? It helps me remember why I can’t run over people who piss me off) and they showed the prison porn checker. Apparently, prisoners can’t have porn or full on nudity so it is someone’s job to go through their mail and remove anything sexually provocative. That means I could get paid to:

a. read other people’s mail, something my nosy little heart would adore and

b. look at porn, something that I find oddly fascinating (though not erotic).

As long as I didn’t have to see any prisoners, or their poor families, it sounds like a great job. And I’d love to see the looks on people’s faces when I wrote “porn checker” under occupation on Ironflower’s school forms.

*In a similar “Jerseygirl watches way too much TV at bedtime” vein, do any of you watch High School Confidential? They followed 12 Kansas girls for four years and turned it into a documentary. Fine. But I’ve only watched a few episodes and in every one, the main girl or a relative gets pregnant at younger than 17. And they only followed 12 girls from an affluent high school! (they keep the name of the school hidden, but I happened to recognize it) Anyone else think abstinence education may not be working?

On Tuesday I volunteered in Ironflower’s class. I participated in circle time and then read the kids a story. It was so weird to be using my teacher voice but not be able to correct behavior and whatnot. Not that I wanted to correct very much behavior (her class really is very well-behaved), but it was very odd not having it be my job.

Still, it was a lot of fun. I thought Ironflower might show off in front of me, or shut down as some of the other moms reported their kids doing when they went in to read. But no, Ironflower handled the situation with total aplomb. She was her typical self - about four times more verbal then the other kids. Seriously, she’s a talking prodigy. During circle time, Mrs.G. asked each kid to talk about his or her Easter. Most kids replied with a few sentences, some replied in short answers to Mrs.G’s prompts. And then came Ironflower. Mrs.G. actually had to interrupt her, so detailed and lengthy was her description of Easter.

That afternoon she talked throughout her entire nap time. TWO HOURS. Sure some days, she doesn’t sleep the whole time and I hear her chattering away. But I was within ear shot the whole time and she never, ever paused. It was amazing. She was telling stories, and having conversations with her kitty AND talking to her imaginary friends the dinosaurs - sometimes all at once.

No wonder I sometimes worry about Lovebug’s language skills - he speaks like a normal child. By the time Ironflower was his age, she spoke in complete sentences ALL the time. And now she talks in paragraphs. She’s even developed a game that emphasizes talking. She describes an animal and then it’s your job to guess what it is. Then you describe an animal and she guesses what it is. Yesterday she and Hubby were playing in the car (Ironflower is adamant that this is a two person game only) and he was describing a zebra, “It’s black and white, kinda looks like a horse and stars with ‘zzz’”. Ironflower was stumped long enough for Lovebug to chime in, “Ze-Buh!”

He may not be the talking prodigy his sister is, but he sure doesn’t miss anything!

So last week Vanessa Van Petten wrote a post entitled, “50 Best Mom Blogs”. And get this - I’m on it. No, seriously. There are some damn fabulous blogs on that list (well, they’re probably all fabulous, but I haven’t read them all yet) and I feel like I just got invited to sit at the grown-ups’ table. I don’t actually feel worthy, so I haven’t really done anything about it for a week. But then I realized that Vanessa totally deserves a shout out. And I thought it would seem weird if I praised her post without mentioning that I’m in it. So, um, have I totally negated my cool factor yet?

Well, that’s okay, because I have more coolness: Canadianflake gave me an award.

How cool is that? What I would love to do is give this award to everyone who comments and reads regularly and especially to those of you who have subscribed. But I don’t know who’s subscribed (is there any way to find that out?) and I’m not sure how I’d define “regularly”. But if you feel that you fit into those categories, please assume that I am passing the award on to you. And those of you that are on my Google Reader, whose blogs I read and comment on at least every week? The award is for you too. Here. Now go give it to someone else.

Seriously, I can’t narrow down all the people I love in Blogland - there are just too many of you. But I expect to see this award on all of your sidebars/award pages right away. For reals, I really want YOU to have it.

In other cool news, have any of you started watching the John Adams miniseries on HBO? I know I’m a history geek, but it is AMAZING. If you’ve always hated history, watch it and see how compelling it can be. And if you like history, you will LOVE this.