Thursday, February 26, 2009

Pukapalooza '09 (Imagine the Devil Horns I'm Making with My Hands while Screaming Rock On)

To start things off, I just really need to say one thing. I love having a sense of humor. I really hope pride doesn't come before the fall in this case, because laughter really is the best medicine and has been the one thing I have been able to attach my sanity to.

I really need to be careful about the things that I post. I have created somewhat of a Murphy's Law for myself. In particular, please refer to my Secret Agent Mom blog. Somewhere in my Lessons Learned it states, "When you think you can't take anymore, you do." At what point in my life am I going to tell myself to SHUT UP, and then actually do it.

After having been sick for a few weeks, I finally went to the doctors on Monday night. Slacker me, who didn't feel like she needed to go to the doctor actually had bronchitis and a sinus infection. Felix went with me and HE had a sinus infection, throw all four kids into the mix with upper respiratory illnesses and we sound like a Tuberculosis convention.

We took it pretty easy on Tuesday and Wednesday, hoping for that whole "Getting Well" thing I hear so much about (I'm pretty sure it is a myth at this point). We were making some progress. The kids were outside riding scooters and enjoying the warm weather that had finally graced our presence. Promptly at 6 o'clock, we ate dinner...because Savannah and I wanted to go shoe shopping and be back in time for American Idol.

Savannah and I scarfed our food and headed out the door. Now, I believe I mentioned before I am the anti-girl. I mean I PMS and have mood swings and all of the other fun stuff, but somewhere along the lines of it all, my DNA somehow dropped the shopping, make-up and dressing up genomes. YIKES. I HATE SHOPPING. Fortunately, it skipped a generation and both of my daughters were blessed with fully functioning DNA...all the girl parts and everything.

So while shoe shopping, I pick out 4 or 5 perfectly acceptable pairs of flip like 2 minutes. Savannah is having her shoe size measured, and then perusing, just so she could find the absolutely perfect pair of tennis shoes that would tell the world she arrived. So like 20 minutes later, I told her she could have the dress shoes with the tennis shoes if we could pay, like now.

Just as we were walking out the door to head home, Felix called to inform me that Caleb had thrown up and could I please hurry home? So we fly home to find Caleb laying on the shower floor with the water cascading over him. Felix was dutifully watching over him to make sure he was drowning or anything.

I get him out of the shower, dressed and wrapped in a blanket. 10 minutes later as we were settling in to watch AI, he looked at me and said, I have to throw up again. He got off of my bed, went to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet. What a good boy. He even wiped the seat off to get all of the little splashes cleaned up. When he was done, I went to pick him up and realized how incredibly hot he was. We tried to cool him down, but when we had a repeat of the perfect puker, I knew it was time to take him in. His breathing had gone completely down hill and there was a noticeably crackly sound coming with each and every breath. That is what cinched Felix deciding to come with me.

I put Caleb in the car and ran in to get my purse and when I came back out, he was throwing up again. Felix drove to the Insta-care while I dutifully stayed next to my poor, sick baby holding the magic bowl. When we got there, we were able to get right back and see a doctor immediately. They took one look at him, one listen of him and sent us back right away for x-rays. We thought, as did they, that he most likely had pneumonia. Whatever he had, he made sure to christen the x-ray table for them. YAY Caleb.

We went back and waited for the results. Surprisingly, it wasn't pneumonia. He had Bronchiolitis. Bronchiolitis is Toddler RSV. RSV is for 0-2 years and Bronciolitis is for 2+, but it is the same virus. Okay...been there, done that, bought the t-shirt, tie dyed it and then put it in a drawer and pretended like it never happened.

Caleb had actually had a situation similar to this when he was about 16-17 months old. Unfortunately for him, he dehydrates very easily and because of his tendency to do this we all agreed that admitting him for the night and observation was probably a REALLY, REALLY good idea. My mom took Felix home to the other monkeys and I headed to Provo with Hurly-burly.

As we were pulling in to the hospital parking lot, a little voice from the back of the car said, "Mom, I think I'm sick or something." AWWWWWWW, poor baby. We got everything done, admitted, signed, sealed, delivered...and puked on, whatever. As we got Caleb plugged up to the machines and his oxygen levels were hovering around 85 and his pulse was up to 175. Basically, he was beginning to dehydrate. DUH. They flowed a lot of fluids, and quick. So while Caleb was drifting in and out of consciousness, I was wide awake.

At around 1 am Caleb woke up and had a major fit. Something about, "Don't look at me. Don't talk to me and don't touch me." I don't know where he gets it from. I really don't. What the fit did do for him, is that it forced him to cough out a whole lot of goop. Once that was out, his oxygen sats normalized and his breathing improved. His pulse was still high, as was his fever, so we Tylenol-ed him up. Once it kicked in around 2-ish, I tried to sleep. YEAH RIGHT.

As I drifted off at about 2:55, I was ready for a few hours of sleep. Oh, sorry, I mean minutes, 5 minutes. Because at 3 am the doctor came in. REALLY? Oh yeah...

After that, I was done...every time I lay down, someone either came in, a machine beeped or Caleb woke up. I gave up. So I played games on my cell phone until my battery died. I know how to rock it.

So we enjoyed the morning, playing games and blowing bubbles, but refusing to eat or drink. It really isn't that unusual for Caleb. He doesn't like to stop to eat. Eating is something that takes away from playtime. Finally the doctor came back and said as long as he could eat and drink and keep everything down for 2 hours we could go home. I cajoled and cajoled and got him to eat an entire bowl of soup. Then I got to watch him throw up and throw up.

So we now get to stay another night. Okay. I sent Felix home with the kids and started to get Caleb set up for the night. As I was setting up my computer to watch a movie, Caleb leaned over to tell me something and promptly fell out of bed, ripping his IV completely out of his arm.

Okay, mental picture time. There is a poor pale little boy, blood and guts (in the form of IV fluids) and me on the phone. I quickly hung up and ran to Caleb to comfort him while pinching off the IV to stop the spray. As I reached for the Nurse Call button, I finally had to just stop and sit down and laugh. What I had just witnessed, was like a total G rated Horror Movie. Think of it...every last item.

1. The first one to fall ALWAYS spills blood.
2. There were scary needles (just not on some wackos face).
3. A wiggly, tuby thing that was leaking every where...totally like the rain on the leaves or from some psychos apartment bathtub upstairs.


Caleb was upset at first, but eventually, he got into the groove and without knowing why...had a good little chuckle himself.

Lessons Learned
1. Laughter really is one of the worlds best medicines.
2. I think he is feeling better he totally scarfed down his chocolate cake...forget the turkey and vegetables...that's my boy.
3. I hate throwing up...I really hate being thrown up on.
4. I am very lucky to have a 3 year WILLING to laugh at nothing, something or everything...whatever the occasion calls for.
5. As bumpy as the road is good.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Mommy Award

I have always wanted to be Mother-of-the Year but things keep getting in the way of my being a recipient. But I have an amazing imagination, so we are going to pretend that I'm worthy.

Here are the rules:

1. Admit ONE thing you feel awful about involving being a mom. Get it off your shoulders. Once you've written it down, you are NO LONGER allowed to feel bad. It's over with, it's in the past. Remember, you're a great mom!

I don't know if I can put myself in the category of a great mom, tenacious yes, great...hmmmm. One thing I do feel awful about is the bad example I have set for my kids when it comes to food. I would eat brownies all day long and be okay with it. One of the things I am working on is rearranging our food pyramid so that it no longer looks upside down.

2. To remind yourself that you ARE a good mom, list SEVEN things you love about your kids, you love doing with your kids, or that your kids love about you. These are the things to remind yourself of EVERY DAY that you rock!

1. I love to laugh with my kids. LOVE IT LOVE IT LOVE IT. When we really get going, it takes forever to calm down.
2. I love (even though they don't) that they are learning personal responsibility through their daily chores.
3. I love that because of their own trials they have IMMENSE compassion for others who are experiencing trials.
4. I love that even though my kids work really hard at trying to convice their friends of how much they hate one another, they are fierce protectors of each other.
5. I love that none of my kids can go to bed at night without a hug and kiss from the mommy. I have even had them fall asleep and then come and wake me up in the middle of the night because they didn't get their snuggle.
6. I love my kids vocabulary. It is so much fun to listen to them talk to one another sounding like short grown ups.
7. I love that we have our own little book club. We all read the same books and then have a pow wow about what happened in the book. I LOVE watching their minds at work.

I don't know if I am quite worthy of a mommy award...but thanks to Megan for thinking I was. :)

I pass this award on to:
Lisa (start your blog...hint, hint)
Karey (yours can be a pre-mommy know, the things you want to avoid, and the things you want to accomplish)

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Random Thought of the Day

Strep-Tease....MADE YA LOOK....

Thoughts Provoked
1. I am either feeling better or way gorked from my meds....I think it might be the second choice.
2. I thought I had Strep Throat...but I didn't. Get it? Strep-Tease?
3. I don't think there is a more random place than the one I am in right now.
4. Is it naptime?
5. Have a chuckle....on me. :)

Sunday, February 22, 2009

A Broken Heart Breeds......Secret Agent Mom

This past week has been particularly hard. Which is, of course, why I have chosen not to spend a lot of time blogging. I have been working extraordinarly hard to wrap my brain around, not only the past week, but the past year and quite whole life.

Some people are money people...that means that they are struggle with issues pertaining to money. Some people are car are the ultimate struggle for them. There are many types of people out there who are struggling with things that feel as though they are beyond their own comprehension. My families struggle have dealth with health issues. Lots and lots of health issues.

So that my little tale makes more sense, how about we start with me. I had chronic cystitis as a kid (UTI's suck). I started having seizures at the age of 10. I had siblings with all sorts of allergies, asthma, UTI's and other orthopedic weirdness. I just figured the whole seizure thing was a fluke. Weird stuff happens.

As I got older, got married and began having children...the really weird stuff turned up. Savannah was 2 when she had her first hospitalization for a kidney infection. It was at this visit where the tests revealed she had reflux in her right kidney. It wasn't an unheard of thing and I knew that it was completely controllable through medication.

Then Noah showed up. He was only 6 weeks old when he first started experiencing issues with his skin. He had full blown allergies and asthma by the time he was two, and the tests revealed that he was allergic to the entire outside and about 80 percent of the inside. (An interesting tidbit, my brother was diagnosed with a chiari's a brain thing...and had brain surgery when Noah was 3 weeks old). Noah has had to struggle with his skin for the majority of his life. He has chronic infections and in the past year has had 3 Methicillin Resistant Staph Infections (MRSA). He had surgery to remove over 30 growths that were contributing to the staph problems.

And then...there was Baylee. Baylee was hospitalized for the first time at 4 weeks old with a UTI. At 7 weeks old she was re-admitted for pneumonia, a partially collapsed lung, a staph infection in her blood and possible meningitis. We had the privilege of blessing her in the hospital because we didn't know if she would be able to come home. When she was two she was diagnosed with Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis. At four, she began to have swelling (Uveitis/Iritis) in her eyes due to her arthritis. She also developed Inflammatory Bowel Disease (Arthritis again) and migraines (most likely due to pressure on the nerves caused by arthritis).

In the past year, as a family (extended too), we have had a research hospitals dream handed to us on a silver platter. A brother with likely arthritis and/or gout, hydrocephalus and so on, a sister with gall bladder issues, among many others. My father who has had multiple health issues (diabetes, high blood pressure, etc, etc, etc) had a back surgery he was lucky to survive. My family has had the fun of dealing with my diagnosis with Fibromyalgia, Noahs MRSA, and Baylees neverending consults with specialists.

Since the beginning of the year we have dealt with Baylees Autonomic Dysfunction, Savannahs new diagnosis of a kidney deformity and debris in her bladder, and finally Baylees most recent diagnosis of probable Fibromyalgia. It has been a ride. And while our little crew was enjoying their ride, the rest of my family started seeing things appear as well.

Now that you have heard the medical history from Aytch EEEEE Double Hockey Sticks, you are probably scratching your head and wondering why I am putting this all out there.

1. Writing has become my new catharsis. It has been the channel I have used to convince myself that I am not crazy. Okay, I'm crazy...but I'm good crazy, not bad crazy. Writing has been my way of telling myself that I am still here and NOT simply a spectator of a really bizarre show.

2. I feel the need to explain my massive mood swings as of late. They have been wide and varied. Which takes me back to the first one.

3. These experiences have recently released a new part of my personality (like didn't have enough personalities already). We all know that I recently became a shut-in that resides in the SFZ (Spunk Free Zone), and we don't like me in the least I don't...neither does my family.

So what part of my personality came out in reason #3? The part that needed answers. My family is very unique in that we have never felt sorry for ourselves. We have taken each event in stride and run with's what we do. But last week, well, last week pushed me the point of realizing that the events that occured in my family were not normal.

My mom and I finally hit upon the same point last week, that we had an unusually high occurence of uncommon illnesses. We have nurtured the possibility for years that our health issues possibly stemmed from my dad exposure to Agent Orange in Viet Nam. Last week we decided it was time to take a serious look.

I have spent the last 72 hours combing (okay, not all 72, but some of them) the internet for information regarding Agent Orange and possible genetic damage. I was stunned at what I found. Every single issue we have found within my family has been listed in studies. Even more surprising, not a single study was conducted in the United States (at least that I could find...and I'm not done yet). Quick shout out to New Zealand for their tenacious vigilance in searching for answers. I have confirmed anything that I have found with a doctor (this is my disclaimer), but man I have the hugest of hunches.

Now this is the part that will explain the title I have chosen for this blog. My heart IS broken...into a whole bunch of tiny pieces.

My heart is broken for my dad. For all of the years he has physically suffered due to his courageous and valiant service to this country. A girl couldn't ask for a better example than him. He instilled a sense of purpose in my heart, that whatever I chose to do, to do it well and with honor. He gave me a sense of civic reponsibility and personal accountibility. He helped me understand that no matter where my path may lead me, I could do no wrong as long as I walked the path with my Father in Heaven. I love my dad...and all of the wonderful parts of him.

My heart is broken for my country. I am not the kind of gal who would ever ask for a handout or something for nothing. Many people spend their time looking for others to monetarily pay for their mistakes. I truly believe that the individuals who made these decisions, made them with the thought that they were doing the very best for our soldiers given the information they had. I am sad, that as a result of their decisions, soldiers and innocent people had to suffer. At the same time, I don't blame them because their was no malice intended. And I am grateful to live here.

My heart is broken for those who think I need to be angry. It saddens me that people believe that Heavenly Father gave us trials to break us. I think we are given trials to prove to ourselves what we are made of.

My heart is broken for my children, who now have their own issues to sort out, live with and live through, possibly due to the decisions of others long, long, long before they came here.

And now that I have put the many pieces of my heart out there for the world to see, I have decided to take this opportunity and run with it. I have a new sense of purpose that has come with these trials for my family: Secret Agent Mom.

I am not an activist, nor do I have any intention of becoming one. Those who are nearest and dearest to my heart are hurting, physically and emotionally, and if nothing else comes from this, I at least want to give my children the knowledge of where it all came from. And that while these trials may make the path in this lifetime a little rocky and unsteady, these issues can truly be worn as their own personal Badges of Honor and Courage. These trials are forging their spirits, and making them stronger than they could have ever imagined.

"Courage, it would seem, is nothing less than the power to overcome danger, misfortune, fear, injustice, while continuing to affirm inwardly that life with all its sorrows is good; that everything is meaningful even if in a sense beyond our understanding; and that there is always tomorrow." -Dorothy Thompson

Lessons Learned

1. Humility is a necessary part of progress....physically and spiritually.

2. Trials in their simplest form are weight lifting for the soul.

3. When you think you can't take anymore, you do.

4. When I forget that I am doing okay, Heavenly Father sends me angels, in the form of friends and family, that help me remember.

5. Acknowledgement, in the form of gratitude, strengthens the soul.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Live From the..............SFZ

I coulda said New York or even the DMZ (Demilitarized Zone in Vietnam)...but I decided that I really needed my own little zone, which is how the SFZ started. Quick side note: I am so lucky to have a friend who can so plainly see the place where I am.

The Spunk Free Zone (SFZ) is a place I visit very rarely. It hovers inside my head at all times, but I don't retreat there except in cases of extreme stress. I think I qualify.

Since my Random Thoughts regarding the Bowling Pin in my refrigerator, I have been bobbing around in the flood (otherwise known as my life) getting a nostril or two full of air. I have decided that my oxygen deprivation is what drove me into the SFZ. So in order to make my case of why I haven't been blogging, I decided a day-to-day play-by-play (I LOVE HYPHENS) would help me to articulate.

Monday - Bowling Pin Mania
Tuesday - More fun with Physical Therapy and Bunko....YAY I sure needed a good laugh.
Wednesday - Sick kids and multiple trips to school for missed homework, forgotten homework, I don't know why homework isn't getting done.
Thursday - More fun with Physical Therapy. But I decided it was time to stop. You know, it is so frustrating that you only get 20 visits a year that are covered by insurance. We made the decision that Baylee is doing well enough to stop (only because we thought we should save some visits for the rest of the year).
Friday - Savannah get to have an ultrasound and VCUG at the hospital. Woohoo. Talk about a good time. The ultrasound was done first. The first technician kept saying, "What is that? Is her liver in the way?" Savannah and I kept shooting panicked glances at one another. Then the second tech took over and started whispering comments to the first tech. Finally they did the other kidney. When they were done, the techs said, "We are going to go and show this to the radiologist...stay here." Okkkkaaaaaayyy. Never had to not leave an ultrasound before. The next thing we know the techs are back and they brought the radiologist with them. No need to talk to us....we were just there for the show. And the radiologist re-did the ultrasound. When it was all done...we were dismissed.

After that we headed to same day surgery to get prepped for the VCUG (short, short version...a VCUG is when your bladder is pumped full of dye and x-rays are taken to see what the dye does inside your body). Poor Savannah was so scared she just sat on the bed with big tears running down her face. But they knocked her out and she did fine. When she started waking up (at the very end of the test she had to be awake) she kept mumbling and the anesthesiologist was talking to her trying to keep her calm. Savannah finally yelled out that she wanted her mom. I leaned over and asked her what she wanted. She looked at me and said, " I hate you." Oh, the love...can you feel it? A few minutes later she started mumbling about how at least her friends loved her. Okay, I get the point. I have failed my daughter.

Once we were done, we headed home. You know, it was just plain a long day and it wasn't even over yet. Yikes.

Saturday - Ahhhhh, Valentines Day. I went and run errands with Savannah. Once I got home, Felix went and ran errands with Noah. When he got home, I went and ran errands with Savannah and Baylee. It was SO romantic.

Sunday - I had a full fledged cold at this point...and I was a touch crabby. I would like to offer my humblest public apology to the kids in my sunday school class. Dude...soooooooo sorry. I spent most of the rest of the day in bed.

Monday - Yay presidents day. Felix had to work, so it was just me and the kids...most of which I farmed out to others, while I crashed because for some weird reason, I was getting worse. Then I went to check email and the modem was dead. It didn't need CPR or anything...cuz it was too late. We will be having a burial at sea as soon as the restrictions against throwing modems in the ocean are rescinded.

Tuesday - This was Savannahs big day at Primary Childrens. She and I were very anxious to find out what was going on with her kidneys. Felix took the day off so he could come with us. We got up there...through some incredibly psycho weather...but hey, life IS an adventure. We were relieved to find out there was anything horribly wrong...just some scarring/minor damage on her right kidney and debris in her bladder that was most likely caused by her recurring infections. Everything is very manageable. YAY....she looked like she had the weight of the world lifted off of her shoulders.

We made it home, collected the children (who went to play instead of checking in with grandma) and dropped everyone off so Felix and I could run some last minute birthday errands for Noah. Once we finished that we called the kids, told them to get grandma and we were going to IHOP for the all you can eat pancake festivus. After dinner there was a quick trip to Wal Mart (the best amusement park in Utah)...and then home. I was ready to go to bed.

Once we got home, I had to clean out one of the random messes that seem to spontaneously happen and Felix got to take everyone else in the house. After a few minutes, I hear my name being called. I go to the front door where my doorknob is so loose it is kind of hanging from the door. There are also scratches on the door and the wood is splintered by the locks. For attemped break in.

Fortunately, it didn't look like they actually made it into the house. Nothing was gone or out of place, just some damage to the door itself. Thank goodness we had all been gone and we were all together. So the police came out and we made a report. At which point, everyone started crying. Looks like there was a slumber party heading to my bedroom. We managed to calm everyone down and get them to bed.

Which brings us to today. Today is Noahs birthday. I am sad that there has been this kind of build up towards his special day. So we are going to make the best of it and party hard...which means Chuck E Cheese. Oy...I hate the Rodents of Unusual Size ( The Princess Bride). I would do anything for him...even if it means eating at Chuckies (Bride of Chucky anyone?).

So today I get to celebrate a member of my family...someone who has brought so much with him to this life. He is a true joy and a royal pain...all wrapped into one....and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Tomorrow is a new day...and another trip to Primarys. But at the end of the day, even though I can't say that we have our health, I can say that we have each other.

Lessons Learned
1. It's just stuff.
2. Even though I currently reside in the SFZ, and least I'm here and along for the ride.
3. I'm so very tired.
4. If you tried to get into my house...please don't do that's not nice.
5. Fear helps my children remember they love me.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Bowling for....

Really, I can't be the only one. Can I?

What does it say about the vibe of your house when you go to put the yogurt in the fridge, and when you open the door...a bowling pin? Yup. That's it. Just wanted to share.

Thoughts Provoked
1. I consider this a random thought of the day...because once you find a bowling pin in your refrigerator, it spawns ALL sorts of Random Thoughts.
2.Do bowling pins make the rest of your food taste like bowling pins, you know, like onions...
3. Does it mean I am okay with my break up with my fridge if I am using it for things other than food?
4. Is that circus music I hear in the background?
5. If I take it out the bowling pin and hide it, does that mean I won the game?

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Top 10 List of Things to Say Instead of Swearing

10. Ka-Dizzle (Shout Out to Snoop Dog...Yo)
9. *@!#) (It is pronounced Asterisk, Ampersand, Exclamation Point, Pound Sign, Close Parenthesis...It's like a tongue twister...go crazy.)
8. Bugger (for many reasons...I hate bugs...and I feel so like I've have traveled the world extensively when I say that)
7. Ahoymanya (nothing special...I just think it sounds cool)
6. Clavicle (May also substitute any other bone/joint that sounds like fun...scapula, sacro-iliac, gluteus maximus, etc.)
5. Biscuits and Gravy (**Warning** -may induce hunger)
4. Snap (Kid favorite...yay Raven...however, can get old REALLY, REALLY quickly)
3. Olive Juice (also works as a way to mess with peoples' heads when you mouth the words to someone across the room **Warning** -may induce unwanted attention from complete strangers and end you up in jail with trumped up stalking charges)
2. Geez Louise (apologies to the Louises of the world, really, it's nothing rhymes)
1. FOR THE LOVE OF PETE (Only works if it is in all caps)

Lessons Learned
1. Unknowingly, I have too much time on my hands.
2. My therapist told me to work on my unresolved issues (ummm, quick side note: if I knew what my unresolved issues were I wouldn't be paying you)
3. Water has triggered my Turrets to a point where I feel as though I need substitutes.
4. Two of the greatest motivators in this life are guilt and fear.
5. What the Olive Juice am I so *@!#) (Asterisk, Ampersand, Exclamation Point, Pound Sign, Close Parenthesis) afraid of that I need to ask these questions? FOR THE LOVE OF PETE.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

(976) Call Me

I love Wednesdays. I really, really do. There is no piano at 6:30 am. There is no Physical Therapy...Wednesdays have really started to become my recuperation day. And then today happened, and I think I may have to rethink my whole philosophy of having or even needing really, a recuperation day. I think (I am no longer willing to commit to anything), that recuperation is merely a myth concocted by a vast left wing conspiracy.

Savannah has been asking me to take her to the doctor for sometime now for a never-ending stomach ache. I finally made an appointment for today. I won't divulge what finally convinced me to take would upset her. After lecturing the kids about being ready when I came to pick them up early, I threw them out the door and into the car with their father.

I tried to do some down time for a change, but instead attacked the pit of despair otherwise known as my house. I made some progress...that was pretty darn cool. I wonder if it will last the day? I know, I know...I can dream though, can't I?

I went and picked the kids up at school and of course, it was the usual chaos. I'm starting to recognize the natural flow of my life...and apparently, I induce chaos.'s almost like a super power. After losing Caleb no fewer than 5 times, I kinda started to panic. Fortunately as I was heading out the door a group of boys from Noahs class came out of the boys bathroom to inform me that Caleb was hitting them in the bathroom. Well, at least I found him.

We made it out the door and to the car...that in itself, was probably worthy of an award. I dropped off Noah, Baylee and Caleb at grandma and grandpas so that I wouldn't have to deal with all of the crazy that goes with taking all 4 of them to the doctors.

At the doctors, it was nice that we didn't have to wait very long. That is what happens when you have such an excellent doctor...he is always packed.

And when the doctor walked in the room and mentioned "Pregnant Grove", Savannah dissolved into a fit of bright pink giggles. It is a crack up and a half to see your 11 year old unable to look anyone in the eye all because someone had the audacity to utter 'Pregnant'.

At least it was a good visit. There was only a minor issue with a kidney...same old, same old. The rest, well, let's just say it had something to with Mother Nature and maturity. But if I thought she had turned an amazing color of red before, it was nothing compared to the color she turned when the doctor said, "Sexual Development". We had to hurry and get out of there before she passed out...they might have had to do mouth to mouth or something.

We left with the number for the urology department up at Primary Childrens with the resolve to call them on the way home. We got into the car, we got settled and before I even backed out of the parking stall, I made the call.

I kind of figured out that I called the wrong number when the message for the Sex Chat Hotline started. Whoops. I quickly hung up the phone, and apparently have my own talent when it comes to turning a beautiful shade of scarlet. Savannah instantly wanted to know what was going on. I tried everything to not tell her. But finally, my own giggles got the best of me and I blurted out the whole entire thing. And by the way, mistaken phone calls like that, lead to really interesting conversations that I wasn't planning on having today.

So we pick up the kids, head to Wal-Mart, decide Wal-Mart was a bad idea and go to the bank. Schedule the necessary tests for Savannah while at the bank (yay cell phones) and then head home. We get home, get settled (okay, that just means that we walk through the door) and then I sit down to take care of the e-mail and other fun activities I had missed this afternoon.

At that point, I am trying to figure out why the little flashy light on my phone is going crazy. Then I remember I have voicemail. I quickly scroll through my caller ID to try and figure out who may have left a message. There was the Carpet Cleaning Company - no. Friends of MS - no. Karen Decker - oooohhh, I hope so...she is so much fun to talk to.

Then I check voicemail. Oh yay, it was Karen...and then I listened to the message. It was wonderful to hear her voice, until I heard her voice say, "I just wanted to see if your kids were okay. I knew when the school called for me to pick up Tad something was going on". I think I threw up a little in my mouth.

How could I forget Tad? Tad is completely unforgettable. Unless of course, it was me and it was today. And could I possibly recover the missing part of my brain? Nope. So I quickly called Karen, to offer my humblest of apologies. I didn't even have any chocolate in the house to buy her off. The only thing lower than me at that point, was the gum on my shoe...that got tracked in and got all over everything (no, not really...I just wanted to create a visual image).

Thank goodness for Karen...she doesn't hate me. Well, at least she doesn't hate me out loud. I can live with that. I still feel like I owe Tad a chocolate bar or something. But at least I was able to hang up the phone with a clear conscience...even if it was saddled with a bruised ego.

The second I hung up the phone, Baylee looked at me and said, "Hey Mom, did you know you forgot to pick up Tad today?" Seriously? Seriously.

Lessons Learned
1. I have no brain.
2. I now know that number 1 is no longer a joke.
3. I am so glad kids are forgiving...I'll bet even more forgiving when I have chocolate.
4. Perhaps writing things down is no longer a viable option for me to remember things.
5. I am no longer hoping to keep my head above water, a single nostril will do. In fact, if I can just bob up for a quick breath of air on occasion...that would suffice too.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda

I shoulda been a fish.
I coulda been a plumbers apprentice.
I woulda been a lot happier if I had.

Oh how it pains me to write this point. My heart is heavy with the realization of what has come of my family. We have long had the knowledge that we are a medical family. It was something we had grown accustomed too. It seems like a heavy burden to others, but when you have born the weight of it on your shoulders, it truly is light.

As I was saying, we were hit with the reality that another genre of trial has befallen us. Oh, the dreaded foe. The hated pestilence. The wretched villian....he who looks over my should, scrutinizing every move, waiting for the moment when he can penetrate to the very depths of my soul. It is he....the dark, soul-less fiend, plumbing woes.

We had (yes, past tense...had) made it for a quite a while without a visit from the dark one. We thought perhaps the light we have born in our eyes and hearts was finally strong enough to break the bond that tied us to his hardened heart. But wasn't to be. Oh, the inhumanity.

We were watching the Super Bowl. And it was indeed, a super bowl. After throroughly enjoying the one game we watch every year, the annual post-game cleaning began. I passed through the south west corner of the theater room, and stepped on something incredibly damp...wet, even. As I silently cursed my children for yet another mess they made without cleaning it up, I dutifully got the towels and soaked up the offending puddle.

The next morning (yes, today, hulloooo)I went down to wake up the children (I call them children when I am in a relatively peaceful mood) and gather a few of the necessities for school that day, and as I crossed the same south west corner...could it be? Should it be? And as my heart sank to the depths of the arches in my feet, would it be? It was. Damp could no longer be used as the adjective to describe the corner. It was absolutely, completely and utterly wet. FOR THE LOVE OF PETE.

Something stirring inside of the less frequently visited areas of my brain told me this was not a simple spill, unless of course, it was the Fountain of Youth (that perpetually percolates, perhaps), that had relocated to my home because it heard property taxes were low.

I slowly pulled the carpet and pad back, as if I were waiting for someone to stop me. STOP ME...I said STOP ME. No, no such luck. I dried up all of the concrete with towels, got everybody out the door and came back. To my astonishment, but not surprise, the concrete was shiny with millions of little reflections springing up to the heavens from the damp concrete. If it were a fairy tale, that would have been good. Since this was a horror was bad. It was very, very bad.

I slowly made my way up the stairs to the phone my mind grasping at every imaginable straw known to man. Had there been a needle in the haystack, I would have found it. I just know I would have.

With an extremely heavy heart I called our contractor because I know better than to throw a phone number away. He is a saint. I would probably try to have him canonized...if I were Catholic. Several agonized hours later, the knights in construction gear showed up. It only took four holes in my walls to find the leak. My fine plumber (this is sarcasm) from the construction of the addition, did not cap the spigot on the previous outer wall when he connected the water spigot on the front porch. Yes. You did hear right. No, this is not a joke. I have a water spigot in the middle of my house. With a turny handle and everything.

The gallant knights that had come to the rescue, quickly capped the spigot. With much laughing, slightly (okay, fully) lined with anger, we attempted photographs. While I truly only took the pictures for posterity, you never know when something like that may come in handy (I watch Judge Judy).

So as we come to the conclusion of this journey, know that I have accepted that the dark foe will be with me, baiting me and attempting to take over my world. Know this Vile Plumbing-I will never back down. I will never give up. I will never retreat. I will stand tall and firm in my opposition to you. While my ankles may be overcome with water, my heart will soar above in my never ending quest of domination to your putrid presence. I will succeed. You will be vanquished, never to return again. Hide in fear, evil one....for I am coming...for you.

Lessons Learned
1. Yes, it is my mission in life to make every one else happy with the hand they have been dealt.
2. My Turrets Syndrome may require an intervention.
3. WHY? WHY wouldn't you cap a spigot that was going to be IN BETWEEN 2 walls?
4. Is number 3 a stupid question?
5. Maybe I should turn it into a drinking fountain?