Dillierama

Five games Alex loves to play

1. Animal:  He bites legs / toes while growling, and laughing
2. The Great Heater Vent Removal Race:  He takes a heater vent out of the floor, then when I go to put it back, he runs to another one and removes it.  I go to put that one back and he runs into another room to take one out... and on and on...
3. Annoying Mom With Sound:  John and I were stupid enough to get him a toy Hummer for his birthday that has buttons for sound.  Alex loves just leaning on the horn button.  FOR HOURS.  BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.
4. Drop Toys Down The Stairs:  self explanatory
5. Refrigerator Magnet Removal Relay:  He takes all the letter magnets off the refrigerator and throws them around the kitchen, then stands in the corner and laughs while I put them back on.

Updates

I went to my physical therapy appointment yesterday and had a rip roaring good time.  Well, maybe not so much. I basically spent an hour and a half wearing nothing but a flimsy hospital gown being alternately stretched, poked, electroshocked, ultrasounded, put in traction and for about 20 minutes I had a man's hand halfway down my butt crack.  Surprisingly, traction was the best part of my experience.  A woman came in to my little curtained off room and taped electrodes to my back and ass, then she "put my butt in a sling".  Literally.  She hoisted my hips up off the table and I hung there for about a half an hour.  It was heaven.  It was the first time in months I didn't feel any back, butt or leg pain.  I almost cried when she told me I had to be taken out of traction to have my back massaged.  Because I have a pinched sciatic nerve, the majority of my constant pain is in my right butt cheek so that's where my massage was focused.  Hence the hand down my butt crack.  My lovely step-mom-in-law has offered to give me a massage, but I'm not sure she wants to handle my sore ass flab.  I'm not sure it helped much, but I'm going back Monday.  This seems to be my only option for relief. So I'm going to keep going and stay hopeful.

Alex also had his 1 year well baby visit right after my physical therapy. And, as usual, he's perfectly healthy, development is right on track, and he had four shots which he handled like a champ.  The only downside to the appointment is that he's not gaining weight fast enough. The kid's always been lean, but the last two appointments, his percentile has dropped.  At 6 months he was in the 22nd, at 9 months he was in the 15th but this time he was only in the 6th.  The doctor wasn't too worried, noting that he's healthy, developing normally and his height and head circumference are perfect.  But, she sent us home with instructions to give him Carnation Instant Breakfast once per day, cut his whole milk down to 3 bottles, and try to get him to snack more often. We have to go back next month for a weight check.  I always knew I'd have children with weight issues, but I never thought it would be an UNDERWEIGHT issue.  This is completely foriegn to me.  How do you chunk up a 1 year old?  My whole life has been about dieting, seeking out lowfat and nonfat food items.  Alex eats a very healthy diet.  Lots of fruits, veggis, lean meats and whole grain breads.  He eats whole fat diary foods like milk and cheese as well.  I went out and bought some cookies, the instant breakfast shakes and we'll start with that.  His uncle JP gives him junk food every time we see him. Maybe I should just have Alex stay with them for a week.  He'd come home in the 75th percentile for sure.

Odds and ends

I just dropped my grandmother off at the airport. She's been here almost the entire month and I've loved having her.  She's the easiest houseguest in the world.  You hardly know she's here, well, except for when she's got the Lifetime movie of the week blasting on the television and my entire guest bathroom is coated in a thick layer of talcum powder.  We rolled up to Sky Cap at 9:44 am only to find that we'd both misread her ticket. We thought her flight departed at 11:00, but we found out it was actually 10:00.  I barely had time to hug her goodbye as she chased after the Sky Cap guy with her bag looking for a wheelchair to take her to the gate.  I wasn't sure what to do, so I just stood there at the curb and watched until they both went into the terminal. I finally got in the car and drove home thinking if she missed her flight she'd call me to pick her up.  She hasn't called so I'm assuming she made it.

Even though I'll miss her, I am looking forward to getting Alex back on a schedule and having life go back to normal. Whatever that is.  I'm seeing a physical therapist for my back pain tomorrow and Alex also has his 12 month well baby visit just after my PT appointment.  Wednesday I have to get an MRI done on my back, the doctor is concerned I may have a slipped or ruptured disk.  I'm really hoping to be able to get some relief from this pain because it's only been getting worse since I've been home full time (I'm sure it's due to all the lifting Alex and bending over to pick up all his messes).  John is looking forward to my back getting better because he says "it's ruining yours and my life".  How MY back pain is ruining HIS life is beyond me.  It must be due to the fact that he's had to rub my back more than once in the last month.  Boo Hoo.  I'm the one who can't wipe my ass without crying in pain.  It's not like I'm making him do that for me.

Alex the walker is getting more and more independant. Not only will he not let me carry him anywhere, he won't even hold my hand while he walks around.  So, I guess I'll be on the lookout for a toddler leash. Yea, I'm going to be one of THOSE moms.  It's just that he's SO FAST and he wanders off in a blink of an eye.  I want to give him his freedom, but I need to be able to keep my sanity.  Loosing my baby in a public place in unacceptable.  Say what you want about toddler leashes, at least he won't get lost or snatched.  I can handle people giving me the hairy eyeball if I still have my baby to tuck in at night.

One Year

Dear Alex,

Sometimes I can't believe you're already a year old, but at the same time I can't seem to remember a time without you.  You have filled my life with a crazy mix of terror, panic, love, happiness, frustration, joy, pain, laughter, tears...I have never in my life felt as many emotions as I have in the last year.  It has been, without question, without qualification, THE BEST YEAR OF MY LIFE.

I didn't know what to expect from you. I didn't know who you were going to be. I suppose I still don't, but so far kid, I'm impressed.  You are active and curious. You are sweet and cuddly. You love to laugh and you're very social. You love to make new friends.  In fact, I can't take you anywhere these days without you chasing down all the girls.  Barely  a year old and you're already chasing tail.  That's my boy.

We're starting to see parts of us in you lately.  Not only do you look just like your daddy, you seem to have his temperment. You're a pretty mellow little dude. Don't get worked up too easily and you're a bit of a goofball.  However, occasionally I'll see you get frustrated and you'll clench both of your little fists so hard your whole body shakes and you growl "GGGRRRRR!"  Yea, that's all me baby.

You're walking now. It happened so fast.  One day you were trying to take one or two steps and the next week you were running laps around the house and chasing the cats like you've been walking your whole life. 

I've taken to calling you Alex the Destructor because it seems your sole purpose in life is to ruin anything that comes within your reach.  I leave you alone for 30 seconds with a magazine and I come back to find you sitting in a pile of paper shreds.  We're thinking of ditching our electric shredder and just having you take care of our sensitive paperwork.

You talk all the time, only, I can't understand what you're saying.  Other than the occasional "Mama" or "no no" it's just nonsensical jabber during every waking hour. I love this. You have the cutest little baby boy voice and I love to have it fill our house.

You seem to enjoy reading books these days. It used to be you'd just tear the pages out and eat them.  Now, you'll bring books over to have me read to you and you love to help turn the pages and point at all the pictures.  The other day I was letting you run around naked, you had a bit of a diaper rash and thought you could use a bit of air, you sat your nekkid little butt right in my lap and handed me your potty book to read to you. 

I could go on and on about all of your new developments and how brilliant I think you are, but you're changing every second, by the time I finish this, you'll have learned something new already.  What I really want to say to you is that I am incredibly proud of you.  I am so very proud to be your mother.  I look at you and I'm crazy in love.  Your daddy and I couldn't be happier to have you in our lives.  You are everything we had ever hoped for and so much more.  I love you sweet boy.  Happy Birthday.

Mama

The Laborversary

One year ago today I went into labor.  It was 9:00pm on a Friday night and John and I were laying in bed watching TV.  I felt a contraction.  Definitely different than the Braxton Hicks contractions I'd been getting. It was noticeably stronger and felt more like a wave, it started small, got bigger, peaked and gradually went away. 

"ow!" I said
"What?" John asked
"Oh, just a cramp" I replied, but in the back of my mind, I knew it was different.

20 minutes later, another one.  About a half hour later, another.  We finally turned off the TV, and John went to sleep immediately.  I laid awake staring at the clock.  20 minutes.  Another contraction.  15 minutes, another one.  15 minutes, there it is again.  I decided to get up and look on line. I thought I might be in labor.  I got up, another one hit.  It was stronger.  I went downstairs and sat at the computer.  Another contraction.  I sat at the computer for about an hour, having contractions every 10 minutes. 

I called labor and delivery about 11:00 pm to see when I should come in. I was sure I'd have the baby by morning. 

"You don't sound like you're in labor.  Call us when you can't talk through the contractions"
"Uh. Ok." I said and hung up.

By now the contractions were 5 minutes apart lasting up to 30 seconds long.  I was pacing the living room floor and occasionally pushing my belly up to the cold sliding glass door. I don't know why, it just felt good.  Cool on my belly that felt like it was burning.  I called labor and delivery again.

"You don't sound like you're in labor still.  Take a Tylenol and try to get some sleep.  Call us when they get stronger"

I took the Tylenol and went up to bed again.  Contractions were still 5 minutes apart and laying in bed was awful.  It was probably about 2 or 3 in the morning by now and I was moaning in bed. John started to wake up and I figured I'd better go downstairs so I didn't wake him (Yea, he was lucky this time.  Next time he's getting up with me and rubbing my back!).  I paced for several more hours.  Contractions still 5 minutes apart 30 seconds long.  I went back to bed around 6am and tried to sleep again.  No dice.  Ended up waking John up with my moaning.

"What's wrong?"
"I think I'm in labor."
"Really? Why"
"It hurts!"

The next day, Saturday, is all a blur. I remember taking a shower and shaving my legs (WHILE IN LABOR!  Trust me, this was not fun) because I knew we'd be going to the hospital soon and a girl can't give birth with monkey legs now can she?  I remember loosing my mucous plug and almost throwing up when I saw it. It was just a big nasty blob of yuck. Even so, I actually considered taking it downstairs to show John (don't worry, I didn't) and I immediately called my mom to tell her how gross it was.  I remember John picking up Wingers for lunch or dinner. I remember watching Arrested Development on DVD.  I remember not being able to sit still and couldn't get comfortable in bed, in a chair, standing up...  I remember toward the end of the evening BEGGING John to take me to the hospital and him saying "I don't want to just be sent home".  Finally, around 10 PM I called labor and delivery again.  They told me, again, that I didn't sound like I was in labor, but since I hadn't slept since Thursday, I could come in and get some pain medication that would help me sleep through the contractions. 

We got to Labor and Delivery around 11 PM and the nurses didn't think I was in labor at all, but when they checked me I was already at 4 cm dilated and 100% effaced I wasn't going anywhere.

I wrote Alex's birth story when he was just 5 days old, but I'm struck with how vivid my memories of his birth still are one year later. I remember feeling the "POP!" of my water breaking. I remember the monster contraction I thought was going to twist me in half.  I remember the unbelievable stretching / burning sensation of crowning. I remember feeling his body twist around inside of me as he was coming out. I remember the feel of his warm sticky head the first time I touched him.  I remember looking at John looking at me and Alex just before he cut the umbilical cord and thinking "Holy Shit, we're a family" and feeling the weight of that on my heart.

Five strange dreams I've had in the last week

1. I am a famous actress and I'm married to Tom Cruise. We go rock climbing where we meet John at the top of a mountain. I push Tom off the cliff and make out heavily with John.
2. I am a butterfly fluttering in a beautiful green meadow.  Alex captures and eats me.
3. Howard Dean is my transvestite housekeeper.  He wears a floral mumu and a long curly red wig. He yells "Byaaaah!" when he kills spiders.
4. The entire world is a gigantic jigsaw puzzle.  Alex and I are responsible for putting it together or else everyone will die.  I spend a lot of time worrying about Alex eating puzzle pieces.
5. I am at the beach and have sunburned my back. I get stung by a bee repeadedly. (I think this was because I was sleeping on a heating pad last night and kept rolling over the on/off switch and it was poking me)

'Cause that's just the kind of mom I am.

Some people teach their kids sign language.  You know, useful stuff like "more" and "puppy" or "book".  Not me.  I teach my son "ET".  I say "ET" and he takes his little chubby index finger and touches my index finger.  We're working on having him say "Ouch" when we touch.  I mean all the kids do "more" right?  But can you find one, just one that does "ET"?  I didn't think so.

It's ALIVE!

So I washed and dried my MP3 player and was sure it was broken, but just to be sure, I went ahead and charged it up overnight and lo and behold, it works!  My cheapo Phillips brand MP3 player survived and works beautifully.  I'd bet no iPod could take that kind of abuse! 

Sickums

I am surrounded by sick people! Alex is sick, John is sick (both colds / cough) and my mother apparently has some mutant kidney stone she has to have zapped tomorrow to hopefully break it up into itty bitty pieces so they will pass.  Grandma and I seem to be the only healthy ones around here. 

I feel more anxious about my mom's procedure tomorrow than perhaps I ought to be. I mean, it's a relatively routine procedure, but it's a pretty big deal none the less.  It could be that for the last two days I've heard Grandma calling all of our relatives to tell them what's going on with my mom.  With each new person she talked to the news seemed to get more and more dramatic:

"Barb's got a kidney stone"
"Barb's got a kidney stone and it's too big to pass"
"Barb's got a kidney stone and it's the biggest one they've ever seen"
"Barb's got a serious medical condition and she could loose her kidney and DIE"*

*Ok, she didn't say that (exactly), but you get the point.

It seems like it's just one frustratingly bad thing after another in Mom's life and I so wish something amazing and good will happen, you know, just to break up the monotony of all this bad shit going on.  She's kidnapped Grandma from my house to stay with her the next couple of days for support.  Since Mark works nights, it's good that Grandma can be there with her.

Note to self

After you go for a walk, ALWAYS check the pockets of your hoodie BEFORE throwing it in the wash.  While your MP3 player might have made it through the spin cycle, it most certainly met its end in the dryer on high heat.