tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-155558132024-03-07T13:41:06.440-06:00no appropriate behaviorcelebrating the survival of another damn dayUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger947125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-9824696595156325362013-02-19T16:31:00.000-06:002013-02-19T18:01:44.120-06:00dust yourself off and try again, try againwe're on day 40 of twenty thirteen and do you know how many days my husband has been in town this year?<br />
<br />
nine.<br />
<br />
nine days.<br />
<br />
nine <i>whole</i> days.<br />
<br />
so, yes. i'm a bit crazy. but that's okay, because i'm already crazy anyway so what's a bit more added to it? <br />
<br />
unless, of course, you want to discuss trying to potty train a particular two-and-a-half-year-old who thinks it's hella funny to <i>pee on the carpet and watch mama throw a hissy fit</i>. <br />
<br />
but i think that's a story for another day.<br />
<br />
or no other day at all, quite frankly.<br />
<br />
so, hey. <a href="http://noappropriatebehavior.blogspot.com/2011/06/dont-you-know-now-is-perfect-time.html">remember this?</a> <br />
<br />
i actually started that in february 2011. as in,<i> two years ago</i>.<br />
<br />
and today?<br />
<br />
well. i'm stuck.<br />
<br />
no, wait. not really stuck. maybe more hmmm... trying to get over my anger. yes! that's better. getting over my anger.<br />
<br />
you see, not every square lined up perfectly.<br />
<br />
(shock! horror! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!) <br />
<br />
then, my experience with the long arm quilter was less-than-desirable.<br />
<br />
then, i totally jacked up my binding.<br />
<br />
then to make matters worse, i got <i>really</i> angry and<i> really</i> jacked up the binding. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmQ3B9DD3ZSWTXbl9vcMx_B6j0NGoETFTM5pSyATmg2rdGyMVOUzC4MA-_FquDvtpJvA2ysN8W_RTL4DNwUkP1dRc_TkZyKCSfjBT84abLa-E8s_HrCZoPn-gfkuxDXmNVum52WA/s1600/IMG_7771.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmQ3B9DD3ZSWTXbl9vcMx_B6j0NGoETFTM5pSyATmg2rdGyMVOUzC4MA-_FquDvtpJvA2ysN8W_RTL4DNwUkP1dRc_TkZyKCSfjBT84abLa-E8s_HrCZoPn-gfkuxDXmNVum52WA/s400/IMG_7771.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
(you may want to click to make bigger to see)<br />
<br />
and yes, i totally, completely realize i am BLOWING THIS ALL WAY OUT OF PROPORTION, but lo - i have set this quilt aside for over a year out of anger.<br />
<br />
if that doesn't highlight my ability to be a stick-in-the-mud spoil-sport i don't know<i> what </i>does.<br />
<br />
so, now i've taken it out of hiding, and i <i>will</i> finish it.<br />
<br />
but first, i <i>will</i> finish this:<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvaR6hr78CLnCEjBq-B5R6Fh_ARy5yhL3O-5POdYJ-a4ILIpLTWgGfKM9uSpOSwfVBKDmAMaSwPdQJQj4F-6yuAoiTOYZcptEhu-IfTEflVsV-IJC_rxPzFvAinT8LoTRXxZC_iQ/s1600/IMG_7772.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvaR6hr78CLnCEjBq-B5R6Fh_ARy5yhL3O-5POdYJ-a4ILIpLTWgGfKM9uSpOSwfVBKDmAMaSwPdQJQj4F-6yuAoiTOYZcptEhu-IfTEflVsV-IJC_rxPzFvAinT8LoTRXxZC_iQ/s400/IMG_7772.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
this is my modern quilt guild madrona road challenge quilt (say that three times fast).<br />
<br />
due to life (ahem) it wasn't completed by the january 31st deadline - but! i have high hopes of finishing the hand binding and having it all ready for the next kansas city MQG meeting in march.<br />
<br />
i even bought a package of color catching thingamabobs today, in good faith.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-58024145352050208352013-01-14T11:05:00.002-06:002013-01-14T11:07:14.461-06:00and we float up through the riftthere's a certain magic that happens at the beginning of winter. the quietness. the celebrations of light and love and life.<br />
<br />
we did our best to enjoy a quiet holiday season and carry the magic through the new year, and it was fantastic. then reality hit.<br />
<br />
my husband is out on a long business trip (currently on day nine of who knows how many - hopefully less than 20), emery spent a good three days nonstop vomiting (growth spurt) (i have faith he'll eventually grow out of his <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eosinophilic_esophagitis">EE</a>) (i call it faith, you call it delusion; po-tae-toe, poh-tah-toe). the boys are back to school and back to constantly bickering.<br />
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our days are spent snuggling up, staying warm.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1vpF9XVDrVnW0J2986THBR40z9eURoqTPvtAT8DDiQHVCfXXfipm5OXoQ6PYzv0y1atadHvrK2WEpXzSWRG0zXldtk4pkUmeqEJoxdI5ii_bbPtJld84CYz9jP1940I2YzH876A/s1600/IMG_6635.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1vpF9XVDrVnW0J2986THBR40z9eURoqTPvtAT8DDiQHVCfXXfipm5OXoQ6PYzv0y1atadHvrK2WEpXzSWRG0zXldtk4pkUmeqEJoxdI5ii_bbPtJld84CYz9jP1940I2YzH876A/s320/IMG_6635.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
and cleaning the basement. oh, the basement.<br />
<br />
there's been no shying around that my husband is a hoarder. and for as much as he's a hoarder, i'm a pack rat. the difference, of course, being he holds on to things we'll never use again (two tubs of broken toys, four boxes of old newspapers from his college years he "still wants to read," outdated science books, boxes and boxes of items we no longer own, magazines i threw out but he saved) and i hold on to things of sentimental value (my mom's old letters, little tin treasures from childhood packed with hello kitty pushpins and pencil toppers, tiny wee baby tshirts my boys wore, and every single camera and lens i have ever own). we've thrown gobs and gobs of stuff down there to "sort through on another day" and apparently that day has come.<br />
<br />
of course, "day" meaning "months" and as soon as i think i'm close to being done i realize i'm not. but isn't that how life is? at least for me. perception versus reality and what it all boils down to is attitude.<br />
<br />
and i choose to do my best to have a good attitude. so if you start to see totally bizarre pictures of my hello kitty treasures do not be alarmed.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-8529221368260348262012-12-07T13:50:00.002-06:002012-12-07T13:54:03.734-06:00pacing around in the moonlight<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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hello. how are you? no time, no see.</div>
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the past few weeks have been gloriously busy. aaron's parents came for thanksgiving, the boys had both! sets! of! grandparents! there! two grandmas and two grandpas in the same room, emerson's mind was significantly blown.</div>
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the holiday decorating has been slow coming, as mister short stuff is in full "terrible twos" mode. no tree. (eh, more on that on another day.) so we're getting creative.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizBaJluzSnXw9wL28-jyBbRzkWKoxRY4CRVJP71ZV7X-8_IKTWfoPokyrnbOejtsROESYPf3_4FuEWPiagVGCIPefEI_aQEBu6JyTCSfCFCUjVk9FVWOYW23hDthLlxRVtaaoC6w/s1600/IMG_5293.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizBaJluzSnXw9wL28-jyBbRzkWKoxRY4CRVJP71ZV7X-8_IKTWfoPokyrnbOejtsROESYPf3_4FuEWPiagVGCIPefEI_aQEBu6JyTCSfCFCUjVk9FVWOYW23hDthLlxRVtaaoC6w/s640/IMG_5293.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
i've been working on on clearing out the basement for the past few weeks. side note: it's not wise to clear clutter out during the holidays, as you do not want to buy anything. nothing.<br />
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i've been taking bags of trash, boxes of recycling to the curb. bags and bags and bags of items for friends and family. another pile for donations. i don't want to bring anything into the house now (and i'm only about a third of the way done), bah humbug. </div>
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while digging my way out of my basement, i stumped upon the potty.</div>
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<br />
emery has been enamored with removing the pants at. all. times.<br />
<br />
yesterday he was so mad at me whole foods, the shoes went flying, then the socks. next, shirt. then he started tugging at the britches.<br />
<br />
so i thought, maybe, i should clean and bring that potty up.<br />
<br />
of course, he loves it.<br />
<br />
but um. yeah. not using it for intended purposes. sigh.<br />
<br />
he's all over sitting on it. but... hmm.. <i>not taking care to use it properly</i>.<br />
<br />
plus, he still doesn't talk. (nor is he yet sleeping through the night.) (thanks a lot eosinophilic esophagitis, you bastard.) so beyond screaming and pointing his little finger in my face and telling me "NEEE-OOOO" he's really not communicating well.<br />
<br />
what the hell am i talking about? he says "no" fantastically.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-40147929481192986622012-11-01T15:42:00.002-05:002012-11-01T15:49:13.976-05:00don't get caught alone, oh noohmygoodness the sugar coma is a beast the next day, is it not?<br />
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the big boys just got home from school and already demonstrating how going to bed an hour and a half later and hopped up on candy the night before equates to not the best behavior. (their poor teachers.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRFenmTBCQJV9g_XXgn-j5nDOIE9kS03Nq76JdVgfRdMysE7kpQF9SuuEqJmzdbZEU1hiw0YYKqAZq7wvHcwbtJ6CM7vYZuNtx_J7ts5OcFs_rl4DWZT0xNim2mfmef6Q_if3Tng/s1600/IMG_4907.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRFenmTBCQJV9g_XXgn-j5nDOIE9kS03Nq76JdVgfRdMysE7kpQF9SuuEqJmzdbZEU1hiw0YYKqAZq7wvHcwbtJ6CM7vYZuNtx_J7ts5OcFs_rl4DWZT0xNim2mfmef6Q_if3Tng/s400/IMG_4907.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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and emery did his very best personality of the hulk today. because. um. sugar?<br />
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but they had a fantastic time, and there's a goodly amount of almond joys for mama that need to be hidden away.<br />
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<i>some of the pumpkins on the porch</i></div>
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<i>making goodie bags to leave out</i></div>
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<i>ready to go (and the first time all were taken in the 12 years of living here!)</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh9TGYhM5YXaH5UuHyRi7QBe6wW_PJ_SCFtj-HxEz81Fcz-bnayTDHvYbwlIAv0g9rXHZ2uObO1XMvJyWvP9HFmkja-gjtus-8RNTdP3DqJ5FQIlh_OMMafsTPr0HPERgagTW6Bw/s1600/IMG_5010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh9TGYhM5YXaH5UuHyRi7QBe6wW_PJ_SCFtj-HxEz81Fcz-bnayTDHvYbwlIAv0g9rXHZ2uObO1XMvJyWvP9HFmkja-gjtus-8RNTdP3DqJ5FQIlh_OMMafsTPr0HPERgagTW6Bw/s400/IMG_5010.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>half-batch (i don't trust myself) of <a href="http://shutup-n-eat.blogspot.com/2008/01/dark-chocolate-chocolate-cupcakes.html">gluten-free chocolate cupcakes</a> with vanilla buttercream</i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxmKbj2lGxMlhQQygaEaYLgDdBooYKX4HBsAudO-JszhS8PSBFyFW9Zs9-Bx97p0hgSAPdhLbmy-7bvv-ZyQt-9FVsdrMCZFJjUDTxZc1Q-fdgnCvWeypxxh6kVLseOSvOdKAQLg/s1600/IMG_5019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxmKbj2lGxMlhQQygaEaYLgDdBooYKX4HBsAudO-JszhS8PSBFyFW9Zs9-Bx97p0hgSAPdhLbmy-7bvv-ZyQt-9FVsdrMCZFJjUDTxZc1Q-fdgnCvWeypxxh6kVLseOSvOdKAQLg/s400/IMG_5019.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div>
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<i>yeah, not done yet. surprised? (<a href="http://auribuzz.wordpress.com/2012/10/05/october-designer-of-the-month-amanda-woodward-jennings/">free download from here</a>) </i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHfSVIBxDPKTGRqHDZLj0soia13FXlH943vBgZKHyDHjcUlcllqw-QKyix-D0vZxS6SC5mtZm3j1tRDpwLwWqFCV7GCAqvcfP6BM1O7_SiYz_PbizMrLKD6wA-bCdJMvlWqJ-diw/s1600/IMG_8089+PS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHfSVIBxDPKTGRqHDZLj0soia13FXlH943vBgZKHyDHjcUlcllqw-QKyix-D0vZxS6SC5mtZm3j1tRDpwLwWqFCV7GCAqvcfP6BM1O7_SiYz_PbizMrLKD6wA-bCdJMvlWqJ-diw/s400/IMG_8089+PS.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i> everyone ready to go</i></div>
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i've resisted the urge to take down the halloween decorations just yet... one more day will do just fine.<br />
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and i'm sorely lacking in thanksgiving adornment<i>s</i>.<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-15010759784378613112012-10-23T19:19:00.001-05:002012-10-23T19:21:26.190-05:00the world outside is, oh, so coldWe're having this crazy heat wave, it was in the mid-80s today. Given the summer we had I really shouldn't complain, but damn.<br />
<br />
A few weeks ago it was gloriously chilly; I love autumn weather. (Not so much the leaves, anyone wanna help come rake?)<br />
<br />
Yesterday I was chatting with <a href="http://www.lisaclarke.net/">Lisa</a> on Twitter on good uses for pumpkin, especially something savory. Hello, one of my very most favorite foods ever. I start making it when there's a chill in the air, and continue until the tulips are up.<br />
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In our house this is known as "pumpkin pasta" and I'm making it as soon as Aaron gets home from Canada. (In related news, I'm willing to start renting my children out to anyone who'd like a good shot of non-hormonal birth control.) <br />
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Recipe!<br />
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1 pound sweet italian pork sausage (sometimes I use ground dark turkey and add a goodly amount of Baron's Specialty Foods Italian Blend - I get it at Whole Foods at the meat counter and cannot find it online; it's what my local Whole Foods uses to make their sausages in-house) (if you recall, Emery is allergic to pork, gah)<br />
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olive oil, depending on if you are using pork vs turkey vs skipping meat all together<br />
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one medium onion, small diced<br />
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2 teaspoons fennel seeds, if vegetarian <br />
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4 - 6 cloves of garlic, minced<br />
<br />
2 teaspoons dried rubbed sage<br />
<br />
1 cup white wine (optional)<br />
<br />
2 - 3 cups chicken or light-colored veggie stock<br />
<br />
1 cup canned pumpkin (about two thirds of a standard can)<br />
<br />
sprinkle of cinnamon and freshly grated nutmeg<br />
<br />
1/2 cup half'n'half<br />
<br />
1 pound of a tube-y pasta, cooked just under al dente (we are gluten-free, <a href="http://www.jovialfoods.com/brown-rice-penne-rigate.html">this</a> is our favorite)<br />
<br />
parmesan, for serving<br />
<br />
In a large skillet, add a small bit of oil (teaspoon if cooking pork; tablespoon if cooking turkey) and cook sausage on medium heat until done; remove from pan using a slotted spoon, set aside momentarily.<br />
<br />
Drain any excess oil out of the pan, you want a little oil to coat the bottom; saute onions on medium heat (if you are making it vegetarian, use a teaspoon or two of oil and start your onions with a sprinkle of fennel and salt - gives you the sausage flavor without having the meat!). Cook onions until translucent, add garlic and a sprinkle of pepper and cook for just a moment. Pour the cup of white wine (or stock, if not using wine) into the pan and reduce the liquid to half.<br />
<br />
Rub sage into skillet, add pumpkin and whisk as smoothly as possible. Add two-ish cups of stock and bring to a simmer; add sausage back in and continue on a low simmer for five to ten minutes stirring occasionally but never walking too far away.<br />
<br />
Sprinkle cinnamon and nutmeg in, turn off heat and slowly add half'n'half until the sauce looks the color of pumpkin pie. Taste for salt and pepper, toss pasta in and let sit for a few minutes before serving.<br />
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We like to have this with a big green salad, and a healthy sprinkle of parmesan on mine please.<br />
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The boys like their sausage and pasta plain, partially because they cannot have dairy and partially because they are not fans of anything sauce-y. <br />
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Unless you count ketchup as sauce-y. <div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-74327922017461862172012-10-17T11:17:00.001-05:002012-10-17T11:19:02.606-05:00if it wasn't for bad luck, i wouldn't have no luck at allThe past week has just been downright <i>comical</i> around here, between a broken dryer for days-on-end (16 days, to be exact) and then once it was broken our basement flooded. Ahem.<br />
<br />
The cause? Oh, you know. The service guy doing something he shouldn't. Then he tried to fix it by pouring a chemical down the drain. And left without saying anything to me.<br />
<br />
Like I said, <i>comical</i>.<br />
<br />
That was last week. The plumbing is fixed. The damage is not.<br />
<br />
I decided, since nearly everything is dirty, I might as well take this opportunity to do the great seasonal laundry shuffle. I'm nearly done. After a week. I know, <i>comical</i>.<br />
<br />
Now, Aaron's talking about his upcoming three trips (two to Canada) and mixing goodness-knows-what in the kitchen to make himself feel better (lettuce smoothies with water, anyone?); Griffin has some viral coughy-lung thing that could turn into bronchitis, and Emery is puking at least three times a day. <i>Comical</i>.<br />
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Darwin and I are trying to keep everyone at an arm's distance. We don't want any of their germy stuff. Please and thank you.<br />
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<i> Yeah, this has nothing to do with the post - but look at that smile! </i></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-86824705608962725282012-10-09T13:43:00.000-05:002012-10-09T13:44:50.441-05:00makes you think all the world's a sunny dayAaron arrived home this weekend - whew! - despite two delays and plane changes.<br />
<br />
We did one of my very most favorite things, go to the pumpkin patch. It was chilly, very chilly, but bright and beautiful and happy. <i>Just what we needed.</i><br />
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<br />
There was chickens and cows and pumpkin chuckin' and a hay maze and a patch perfectly died back for picking and tractors (lots and lots of pointing and grunting at tractors!).<br />
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After there was snacks and a long drive home (with a stop for gluten-free burgers and fries) and naps in the van. <br />
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<br />
And there was this. Lots and lots of this. <br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-30008591929715248592012-10-05T10:43:00.001-05:002012-10-05T10:43:26.346-05:00Drank a cup of coffee and she'd fold her laundryAutumn finally arrived to Kansas. The furnace is on, slippers on are feet, cardigans pulled out and being worn.<br />
<br />
Emery is enamoured with trucks, trains, airplanes, basically anything that goes. A helicopter was flying over when we arrived at the grocery store this morning. "MA!" Points, grunts. "MA!"<br />
<br />
"Ah, yes. Do you hear and airplane? Oh, wait. That's a helicopter."<br />
<br />
"MA!"<br />
<br />
"Hel-eh-cop-ter"<br />
<br />
"MA!"<br />
<br />
"Hel-eh-cop-ter"<br />
<br />
"MA! Ter!"<br />
<br />
We'll consider that a win for Mister No Words.<br />
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Hopefully Aaron will get home from his trip tomorrow evening, and we can all snuggle in and have some family time together (and not contemplate raking leaves) (hopefully). Happy weekend to you!<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-68700907059991749622012-10-02T21:36:00.001-05:002012-10-02T21:37:37.440-05:00and so peacful until...I'm on day nine of a broken dryer (heats, but doesn't tumble; makes a horrible mouse-squeaky-death sound). We had an appointment today to get it fixed.<br />
<br />
At first he said he unplugged it and it's fine. But then he went ahead and checked it, the belt is about the snap and idler (I pinky-promise that's what it was called) was about to go out. He picked up the parts and fixed it.<br />
<br />
Then, of course, he discovered part, that ties into the motor, that just idly spinning, and it's a fire hazard. Seven days to get that part in. Seven days.<br />
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Dear dryer, you are not funny. Dear warranty-holder of dryer, as you certain that's the best you could do?<br />
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I will be having a date with the laundromat soon. A date, not a double date.<br />
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(Toddlers in laundromats are no fun, I've already tried.)<div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-59976599169607734282012-10-01T15:29:00.000-05:002012-10-01T15:30:02.797-05:00Merrily, MerrilyI'm on my third - no, wait, fourth - cup of coffee.<br />
<br />
Tomato season is about over, the boys harvested our garden. Aaron complained about the tomatillos, covered in blooms but no fruit two years in a row.<br />
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The boys are home from school, causing a ruckus with Emery. It's loud, gloriously loud. Reminding me the quiet is overrated.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-62008066760675422922012-09-13T12:25:00.003-05:002012-09-13T12:31:18.304-05:00And I Keep Hittin' Repeat-peat-peat-peat-peat-peat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Emery turned two a few weeks ago -<i> two!</i><br />
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If Griffin is my heart, Darwin is my soul, then Emerson is my joy. All of my joy.<br />
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<i>Likes:</i><br />
Pointing, grunting, using very little words. Will sweetly call me, "Mama!" But if he needs something, I quickly become, "MMMMMAAAAAAAA!!!"<br />
<br />
Hugging his daddy and brothers when they come home, calling both of his brothers, "Dar!"<br />
<br />
Trucks, trains, trucks, helicopters, trucks, airplanes, trucks, automobiles, and trucks.<br />
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Chocolate chips, pretzels, rice soaked in chili, and trying to eat everything he's allergic to.<br />
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"Petting" the dog. (Where "petting" is really "licking" and ewww.)<br />
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Helping with laundry, playing with mama's straight pins. <br />
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Sneaking out the back door.<br />
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Slamming doors.<br />
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<i>Dislikes:</i><br />
<br />
Fingers pinched in slammed doors.<br />
<br />
Being told anything along the lines of no, hands off, and not for you.<br />
<br />
Being asked to talk.<br />
<br />
Naps.<br />
<br />
Sleeping.<br />
<br />
<i>I really cannot being to put into words how utterly fantastic you are Emery, happy birthday my little love.</i><br />
<br />
PS. Please start talking and sleeping soon. <br />
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<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-37676342628284986992012-08-13T21:07:00.003-05:002012-09-13T12:32:22.798-05:00Hell, I Still Love You, New YorkSummer is over, and for the first time it's bittersweet.<br />
<br />
Griffin and Darwin returned to school today (fifth and third grade,<i> someone please explain to me how that happened</i>), and my summer travel is over.<br />
<br />
Aaron? Well, let's just say that poor boy has put in a lot of hours and flew out on an emergency trip Saturday afternoon. Sigh.<br />
<br />
I've been home just over a week, and New York was... pretty much what I expected.<br />
<br />
Big.<br />
<br />
Loud.<br />
<br />
Busy.<br />
<br />
I didn't expend it to zap all my youthfulness and age me quickly, but when there's a song about a <i>New York Minute</i>, heh - they weren't kidding.<br />
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The BlogHer Conference was held at 6th and 53rd...<br />
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... and although the majority of my time was spent in the hotel at the conference, I did manage to sneak away to see Times Square at night...<br />
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... take a subway down to Ground Zero (but didn't realize we needed tickets into the memorial)...<br />
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... so we visited St. Paul's Chapel ....<br />
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... and took a cab to <a href="http://www.babycakesnyc.com/">babycakes</a> in Chinatown...<br />
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But yes, I was gluten'd by the hotel we were at, it was <i>not awesome</i>. Luckily I figured it out rather quickly and took necessary steps to avoid going to the ER.<br />
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It's a special type of <i>talent</i> to gluten someone with a bowl of fresh fruit. <br />
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My "find me gluten free" app worked fantastically, and I was kept alive by <a href="http://www.nakedpizza.biz/menu">Naked Pizza</a>...<br />
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and <a href="http://www.lilis57.com/">Lili's 57</a>...<br />
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New York is a bit of a dirty mistress for me: lights, glamour, excitement, but there's no way I can keep up with that crazy bitch. <div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-37131193689751274622012-08-06T18:45:00.000-05:002012-09-13T12:33:00.202-05:00So Bless My Heart, and Bless Yours TooI feel that parenting is a bit like gardening.<br />
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You go into with the best of intentions. You think you know what you are getting yourself into, and you dive in.<br />
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Then, after a bit, you look around and wondering what the hell you got yourself into. Are you doing it right? Are you giving too much, too little? Surprises come up, you ask the best experts you know, you change what you are doing and hope for the very best.<br />
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Last week, while attending the BlogHer'12 Conference in NYC (more on that trip on another day), I got a call from the local children's hospital - we've been expecting Emerson's recent scope results for his <a href="http://www.medicinenet.com/eosinophilic_esophagitis/article.htm">eosinophilic esophagitis</a>.<br />
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I took the call, ducking out of the <a href="http://www.blogher.com/iphoneography?wrap=node/478218/virtual-conference/posts">iphonography session</a>, to speak to the nurse.<br />
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His eosinophilic cells more than quintupled.<br />
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There's simply no other way to put it: <i>I feel fucked</i>.<br />
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He's already avoiding all the foods he's allergic to, still taking his god-awfully-expensive special formula. And the numbers took a massive jump, what the hell?<br />
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After going through all his records (in the hallway, where I barely had reception) and discussing his behaviors (still wakes up at least three times a night, screaming bloody murder plus a whole gamut of other stuff, like refusing to talk even tho he can, <i>punk</i>), the nurse let me go so she could talk to the doctor.<br />
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Later that evening, she called back letting me know that the doctor didn't want Emery to have <i>any</i> food for the next three-or-so weeks (just special formula), until we came in for an office appointment.<br />
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Hahahaha, <i>yeah</i>, right. <br />
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This after nearly a year of hissy fights and fights and <i>stop chipmunking your food in your cheek and swallow</i> and <i>here, try this</i> and <i>mmmmmm, doesn't that taste good </i>she wants us to cold-turkey him off food?<br />
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Again. <i>Fucked</i>.<br />
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Tomorrow I need to call them back, because this whole <i>don't feed the child anything</i> business simply isn't working - his face is breaking out, he's screaming, miserable, and constantly signing for "more chocolate chips."<br />
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This whole parenting thing isn't easy. Neither is gardening, really.<br />
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But sometimes you get to step back, take a look and realize: you're doing best job you can - and look! Everything is blooming.<br />
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<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-73705113886645814712012-07-23T20:35:00.000-05:002012-09-13T12:33:43.610-05:00You Light Up My World Like Nobody Else<i>Someone</i> around here turned eight. <br />
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He is tenderhearted and awesome. Outgoing and shy. Brave and cautious. And promises to live with me <i>forever</i>.<br />
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I'm a lucky girl.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-54309196161220034522012-07-19T20:52:00.000-05:002012-09-13T12:33:56.059-05:00As We Sit Alone I Know Someday We Must GoI believe that people do what they think is best... love the best they can.<br />
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I didn't have a spectacular relationship with my grandma. She didn't tech me to sew. Or cook, or garden. We didn't take nature walks, didn't play dress up. At most, she'd hand me a discarded pile of used copy paper and a tin box of blunt crayons.<br />
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She did share her secret stash of chocolate chip ice <i>milk</i>, still perfectly squared in a specially-designed tupperwear ice cream container.<br />
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And she did have the priest re-bless me every time I stepped foot in her Catholic Church.<br />
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My grandma passed away last week, and we buried her on Tuesday. It's been a roller coast of emotions: happy she lived a long life able to watch her nine children and 21 grandchildren grow; heartbroken that she (and I) lost my mom at such a very young age (I was four, my mom 28); sad to be reminded, in pictures, of what an awesome person my grandfather was.<br />
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And I'm... mourning. Mourning what was, what could have been; how it all could have played out so drastically different. And I'm not dumb, I know looking at me was painful - oh, so painful - for her, to see her daughter in me and not have her around. No parent should ever experience the loss of a child.<br />
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Maybe. How I've hung so many of my life experiences and broken relationships on that little wishful word.<br />
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Despite how much I wish everything could have been different, I'm grateful for the time I got to spend with my grandma in this short, short lifetime.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-19469289625559457542012-06-18T14:11:00.001-05:002012-09-13T12:34:24.391-05:00There Are Certain Things That Should Be Left<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's taken half a year, but I'm finally released. </div>
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Released from doctors, surgeries, procedures, lab tests, emergency room visits. Sadly, these are all the memories I have this year. When did my irises bloom? I haven't a thought, but I've met a lot of excellent nurses who can put an IV in my armpit like no one's business.</div>
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The surgery to correct my <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sphincter_of_Oddi_dysfunction">sphincter of oddi</a> in March fixed me enough so that I could eat, but not enough to be out of constant pain. The doctors explained it was my pancreas (that they should have, but were unable to, put a stint in during the procedure) and thought we should wait until September to revisit it. Aaron insisted they handle it immediately, and thank goodness.</div>
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In late May I had another procedure, supposedly 30 minutes to put a small stint in my pancreatic duct, which turned into a four hour surgery to reroute and correct <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pancreas_divisum">pancreas divisum</a> that was so severe, the doctors seriously doubt the scar tissue on my pancreas will ever heal.</div>
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So. There you go. If there's a 25% chance of something happening, it won't. But if there's a less than 1% chance, I'm your gal. </div>
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Except for lottery tickets. RIDDLE ME THAT.</div>
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So now, we're done. The stint had to be removed (because I wasn't in the 95% of people that just have the damn thing fall out naturally) and we're over two weeks out. I can start an exercise routine (I've been pushing the stroller around the block the past few evenings - my legs <i>and</i> shoulders hurt), I can go be out in the world and not worry about crazy stabbing kill me now pains (unless I'm gluten'd), and I can just go <i>be.</i></div>
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Which is fucking fantastic.</div>
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So now I'm watering plants and children. Enjoying the sunshine. Trying to figure out what the hell happened to my garden. Not lying in bed all day.<br />
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I really can't describe how fucking fantastic it all is.<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-60347085074172478212012-05-01T17:00:00.001-05:002012-05-01T17:03:26.700-05:00She Loves A Lot of Things<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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Griffin's school play is tonight, and he's all out of sorts because I didn't get him a<i> white</i> shirt and <i>black</i> suspenders. One would tend to think that a <i>white</i> shirt and <i>black</i> suspenders wouldn't be so difficult to attain, but after a month of looking I simply refuse to pay full retail for a <i>white</i> shirt and <i>black</i> suspenders for a one-day, two-run school performance and never be used again.</div>
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I told him he can make do with a shirt from the closet and thrifted suspenders. It will be fine. <i>Really, it will. </i><br />
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He wasn't so convinced.<i><br /></i><br />
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The first performance was during the school day, and he was all smiles at pick-up. </div>
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"Mama, my suspenders are <i>snazzy</i>."</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-50124489651702542372012-03-26T16:12:00.007-05:002012-03-26T17:10:53.272-05:00Yeah, You Buckle with the Weight of the WordsAt this point in my life, I should be able to recognize that my own manic behavior is a sign something is going to happen... but, no. That is a lesson I have not yet learned.<br /><br />I certainly hope I learn it soon.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Yes</span>, it has been awhile. <span style="font-style: italic;">No</span>, it wasn't intentional. But I'm tongue-tied and twisted. I feel it needs to be said, but I don't know how to say it.<br /><br />After I stayed up late, manically trying to write <a href="http://noappropriatebehavior.blogspot.com/2012/01/this-aint-no-foolin-around-gluten-free.html">my last post</a>, I went to bed. Two hours later I was up, Aaron called 911 and the medics who came to our home thought I was having a heart attack.<br /><br />Nothing says <span style="font-style: italic;">welcome to thirty-five</span> like medics telling you are you having a heart attack (even if you don't believe them).<br /><br />Five days later I was discharged from the hospital with a diagnosis of an acute pancreatitis with elevated liver enzymes. No explanations why this happened - in fact, every reason why this <span style="font-style: italic;">could</span> have happened was ruled out for me: I don't drink (especially since having my gallbladder removed), I don't smoke; my cholesterol and triglycerides were on the low-end of normal. The hospital did every scan possible to try and find a rogue gallstone blocking something - nothing (but I was told that I "won the award" for holding my breath the longest and best in the CAT scan). I was discharged to "resume my normal life" and "cross your fingers it doesn't happen again."<br /><br />Two days later I was at urgent care with a fever a chills, more tests ran. I was put on a liquid diet.<br /><br />Three nights later I experienced another "attack" but since I knew what it was, I took a pain pill and went to the doctor the next morning. More tests were ran.<br /><br />The next day I was told to "urgently" see the GI that was over my care while I was in the hospital. I got an appointment to see her the next day.<br /><br />She looked at my hospital tests and all the test ran since my discharged. She had an idea of what was wrong: I had sphincter of oddi dysfunction.<br /><br />We had never heard of it. Only two doctors in Kansas City work with patients with this, and the wait lists are months long. And more tests have to be ran to rule out other diagnoses.<br /><br />To get from there to here was a long road. Many test. Many ER visits. Nineteen days of a liquid diet<span style="font-style: italic;"> followed by</span> 25 days of a clear liquid diet. Threats of hospital admission or an in-home health aid to administer IV bags. Thanks to friends on Twitter and Facebook, my wait was cut shorter to get in to the specialist, but over 40 days of being on an exclusive liquid diet messes with your brain, with your organs. Yes, I lost 40 pounds in less than a month. No, I would not recommend it.<br /><br />The sphincter of oddi is a tiny, one millimeter in diameter sphincter and muscle. When you eat, the food travels from your stomach to the digestive tract. The sphincter of oddi opens and allows the digestive enzymes from your liver and pancreas (and gallbladder, if you still have yours) to travel to your digestive tract and the enzymes help digest your food.<br /><br />For a person with sphincter of oddi dysfunction, the sphincter <span style="font-style: italic;">does not </span>open. Instead, it closes tightly and spasms which signals to the liver, pancreas, and gallbladder to release the enzymes - typcially into other organs and your blood stream.<br /><br />When we finally got to my surgery day, they were unable to complete everything that needs to be done (which likely means more surgeries - yes, plural - this year); when they did a pressurized test of my sphincter of oddi, they said they would cut it open if it registered a pressure over 40.<br /><br />Mine registered a pressure of 170.<br /><br />The surgeon told my husband, "No wonder she couldn't eat."<br /><br />Yeah.<br /><br />So, no I'm not 100%. And that's ok. I'm slowly getting there. I can eat breakfast. And a decent lunch. And sometimes a snack. But no, my pancreas and liver are "still mad" and we're still figuring things out.<br /><br />Aaron took four weeks off of work using FMLA leave to take care of me and run the household. This will be able to cover any additional hospital visits (goodness, I hope not) and potential surgeries for the rest of the year.<br /><br />Life doesn't stop, even when it feels like you are 20 feet under water and struggling to survive.<br /><br />Griffin turned ten...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI43oojTA-fW3H-7w57t3UlX1RXLTR4SvK7jdFfjzHcAHSs9tWZ56UNMBv3RKdykobfnRCQIFswijG_MAJfELSyvm4TnBvAeqWjSGadnJNWsnb3uyvWJnbgIh_o6focdcrsw7-IQ/s1600/IMG_7021+PS.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 284px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI43oojTA-fW3H-7w57t3UlX1RXLTR4SvK7jdFfjzHcAHSs9tWZ56UNMBv3RKdykobfnRCQIFswijG_MAJfELSyvm4TnBvAeqWjSGadnJNWsnb3uyvWJnbgIh_o6focdcrsw7-IQ/s400/IMG_7021+PS.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5724319650059095922" border="0" /></a><br />Darwin continues to be <span style="font-style: italic;">Darwin</span>...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWKNA8P9wd4YMkVS9b74T3SgBfwTRaaKrEaL9tEYfG7-kYt6Mux7t2rtT4ojFJYY2yk4NwSZTUA7Y6nimRn61DFPpMyLpmhlNfsamkt-ZjHuc1Li9ErViNmkNo44sMkCHll8kbAw/s1600/IMG_7137+copy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWKNA8P9wd4YMkVS9b74T3SgBfwTRaaKrEaL9tEYfG7-kYt6Mux7t2rtT4ojFJYY2yk4NwSZTUA7Y6nimRn61DFPpMyLpmhlNfsamkt-ZjHuc1Li9ErViNmkNo44sMkCHll8kbAw/s400/IMG_7137+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5724319492942312226" border="0" /></a><br />Emerson continues to grow and has hit full-fledged "toddlermonster"...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtxwZtM9_wuL2D5ZvL5cVDnd6dRTJAhue7UdJTHxOEAgIQsVIi_bcLK6_c5cSubkHVKiY_USg418Ghm_Elg8CE9SmVf3zNgQbcNNdOOK1GdDhhl0V8Jj_YoqlJXPoAlC9VpZITAQ/s1600/IMG_7120+copy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtxwZtM9_wuL2D5ZvL5cVDnd6dRTJAhue7UdJTHxOEAgIQsVIi_bcLK6_c5cSubkHVKiY_USg418Ghm_Elg8CE9SmVf3zNgQbcNNdOOK1GdDhhl0V8Jj_YoqlJXPoAlC9VpZITAQ/s400/IMG_7120+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5724319409607165202" border="0" /></a><br />I swear, that's the stink-eye of a teenager right there.<br /><br />And spring has come to Kansas...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCo0ZmQ_qhhpvodyYSv7paVG75hbZIynrhWEEYVzk1_FpuiIercpVnADErXL1YO66f1HTtd_EsdD35xLkt8qcyWJz0N0SBw59n-JeoMG5jvlZClQwLENFrE6c5DV1_EjNDCPEQig/s1600/IMG_7127+copy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCo0ZmQ_qhhpvodyYSv7paVG75hbZIynrhWEEYVzk1_FpuiIercpVnADErXL1YO66f1HTtd_EsdD35xLkt8qcyWJz0N0SBw59n-JeoMG5jvlZClQwLENFrE6c5DV1_EjNDCPEQig/s400/IMG_7127+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5724319166420283314" border="0" /></a><br />... even if it means I'm tempted to get a chain saw and destroy every last blooming oak tree in the city.<br /><br />I've missed this space. As much as I <span style="font-style: italic;">don't</span> want it to medical diary, it is what it is.<br /><br />And it will be what it will be.<br /><br />I'm hoping to find the happiness along the way.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-63347343679994427352012-01-26T18:11:00.012-06:002012-01-26T19:08:01.100-06:00This Ain't No Foolin' Around (+ a Gluten-Free Birthday Cake Recipe)Monday was my birthday.<br /><br />Which means I did what any reasonable person did: I fantasized about cake for months.<br /><br />Full disclosure: if I weren't gluten-free, I probably would have ordered a fancy-smancy cake for myself from some fancy-smancy bakery. But, heh, as good as Kansas City is with the gluten-free, it's not <span style="font-style: italic;">that good</span>.<br /><br />Good thing I like to bake.<br /><br />(Oh yeah, <span style="font-style: italic;">me</span>. Not Aaron. You heard that right.)<br /><br />Criteria for a only-girl-in-the-house's birthday cake: it must be pink; and multiple layers; and <span style="font-style: italic;">good</span>.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKZAQPHIik4dxGKqzjntUBaQyk6lgOECjnuzJ0FCW1rD80CE-Je7zJ50x966DeK4bZDeTo5HopaYVcbKiKGFdSF_wrObY6r75Yr3UaSQqxSVHAuOmXFJkyRJ70dHyBUcTs19GUog/s1600/IMG_6759+PS.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 281px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKZAQPHIik4dxGKqzjntUBaQyk6lgOECjnuzJ0FCW1rD80CE-Je7zJ50x966DeK4bZDeTo5HopaYVcbKiKGFdSF_wrObY6r75Yr3UaSQqxSVHAuOmXFJkyRJ70dHyBUcTs19GUog/s400/IMG_6759+PS.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5702100166054205106" border="0" /></a><br />Aaron got home from his business trip late Sunday night (lucky man), and then home after 8pm on my birthday (not-so-lucky-man) (I will not discuss the projectile vomiting Emerson did around 7pm, after I gave him the tiniest <span style="font-style: italic;">smidge </span>of buttercream frosting) (oops), so cake was served late.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIwfjSX0kPkeMTDKb_79T-W0zTs5nGpVuswwM4MJ8D-qA5DE1H9szQ-sFQrsLnhfTMu5XL0PomgdYaMBGHyb6A0hAQzb1Up2ig6bsGPjo9zKB3VXv8FHFatrfM-5rszOwpIzSR9A/s1600/IMG_6786+PS.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIwfjSX0kPkeMTDKb_79T-W0zTs5nGpVuswwM4MJ8D-qA5DE1H9szQ-sFQrsLnhfTMu5XL0PomgdYaMBGHyb6A0hAQzb1Up2ig6bsGPjo9zKB3VXv8FHFatrfM-5rszOwpIzSR9A/s400/IMG_6786+PS.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5702100017468002386" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;">Gluten-free Vanilla Birthday Cake with Vanilla-Cherry & Chocolate Buttercreams<br /></div><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Vanilla Cake</span><br /><br />1 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature<br />2 cups sugar<br />4 large eggs<br />1 tablespoon vanilla extract<br />1 cup whole milk<br />3/4 teaspoon salt<br />1 tablespoon baking powder<br />2 1/2 teaspoons xantham gum<br />3 tablespoons corn starch<br />2 3/4 cups gluten-free flour mix*<br /><br />Preheat the oven to 350; butter and line two 9 inch circle cake pans (or if you have a smaller size, whatever) with parchment paper.<br /><br />In a stand mixer (or large bowl), cream butter and sugar until fluffy, scrape down the sides. Add the eggs one-by-one, vanilla, and milk: once you add the milk it will look like cottage cheese and this is totally fine, don't worry. (Welcome to gluten-free baking!)<br /><br />Scrape down the sides, and sprinkle in the salt, baking powder, xantham gum, and corn starch; scrape down the sides again (dude, <span style="font-style: italic;">I know</span>). In small batches, sprinkle in the gluten-free flour until fully incorporated. Stop the mixer, scrape down the sides, and incorporate any remaining bits by hand. Divide the batter between the two cake pans and bake 20 - 25 minutes, or until slightly golden and a toothpick comes out clean. Cool completely.<br /><br />*I prefer to use King Arthur's All Purpose Gluten-free Flour mix (and I only <span style="font-style: italic;">wish</span> I could be paid for saying such a thing)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Cherry-Vanilla Buttercream</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(I made a 3/4 batch for this cake, a full batch would have made for a prettier cake)</span><br /><br />1 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature<br />6 to 8 cups powdered sugar<br />1/2 teaspoon salt<br />1/2 cup half & half or heavy cream<br />1 tablespoon vanilla<br />1 tablespoon (or more!) of maraschino cherry syrup<br /><br />In a large bowl (preferably of a standing mixer), beat butter until light and fluffy, two or three minutes. Scrape the bowl, add <span style="font-style: italic;">one cup</span> of powdered sugar and salt, and mix. Add vanilla and cherry syrup to half & half or cream, and slowly add to butter/sugar mixture. It will look awful, it's okay. Trust me.<br /><br />On low, slowly add 1/4 cup scoops of powdered sugar; add more sugar and mix until desired consistency. If the frosting looks watery, add <span style="font-style: italic;">more </span>sugar. Transfer to another bowl, if you are making the chocolate buttercream afterwards.<br /><br style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Note: If you want it pink without the cherry, do it how you like it! But if you are adding syrup be sure to use at least half & half or heavy cream, not milk, because milk + syrup = too much water, not enough fat. (I found the cherry syrup in the local grocery with - of all things - maple syrups.)</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Chocolate Buttercream</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(I made a half-batch of this for my birthday cake)</span><br /><br />1 pound semisweet chocolate chips, <span style="font-style: italic;">melted and cooled</span> (I use Ghiradelli brand)<br />1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder<br />1/3 cup hot water<br />1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter <span style="font-style: italic;">at room temperature</span><br />2 to 3 cups powdered sugar<br />1 teaspoon vanilla<br />1/4 teaspoon kosher salt<br /><br />Whisk together cocoa powder and hot water, set aside.<br /><br />In a large mixing bowl, beat butter and <span style="font-style: italic;">one cup</span> powdered sugar until light and fluffy. Add vanilla, salt and cocoa-water mixture. Slowly add melted chocolate chips.<br /><br />Slowly add more powdered sugar until it's at a consistency and sweetness you like. You can also put the mixture in the fridge and beat occasionally.<br /><br />If you beat the mixture a little, you will have a dark, dense, rich chocolate frosting (like in photos). If you over beat you will have a light, fluffy, whipped chocolate mixture. <span style="font-style: italic;">Make it how you like it</span>.<br /><br />You ready for cake? Let's finish!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwMLoCqmuzsWxX21mu46ifDBjx-EiLbQ0oCzEPoWw41SOGCnLT0-yaeD-IpyKVwGsaHT9XwdTZJOLz6qVdxT0JiIrG-rDIvYqVCogHEIgOcoBAO-P9vUrSU7mNNW4IBnVdgKEktA/s1600/IMG_6794+copy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwMLoCqmuzsWxX21mu46ifDBjx-EiLbQ0oCzEPoWw41SOGCnLT0-yaeD-IpyKVwGsaHT9XwdTZJOLz6qVdxT0JiIrG-rDIvYqVCogHEIgOcoBAO-P9vUrSU7mNNW4IBnVdgKEktA/s400/IMG_6794+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5702099689999072466" border="0" /></a><br />Split the two 9-inch cakes in two width-wise, to end up with four cakes. Put the top of one cake upside-down on your platter, surround with strips of parchment paper (unless you like the frosting-everywhere look; in which case, go on with your bad self!).<br /><br />Put some cherry-vanilla buttercream in a frosting bag (or do what I did, put some in a plastic bag and snip a corner off), and outline the outside of the cake with the pink frosting (this prevents chocolate buttercream from seeping out the sides). Spread chocolate frosting in the center. Place the other half of the cake on top of the frostings, smush down. Repeat the layers, then frost the outside in the cherry-vanilla buttercream.<br /><br />Then have your children decorate with sprinkles.<br /><br />Then you go have yourself some birthday cake too.<br /><br />(Both Griffin and Aaron have birthdays in February and they are already plotting what they want.)<br />(Hold me.)<div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-41039905166186847762012-01-17T17:26:00.004-06:002012-01-17T17:42:54.530-06:00Like a BossI always get a little slap happy (confession: a lot slap happy) when Aaron works his crazy-ass schedule and, especially, when he travels.<br /><br />We're on day nine of a not-yet-time-determined trip.<br /><br />Which explains why I sing <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NisCkxU544c">this</a> all day (alert: not safe for work, not safe to play around the kids - but you can get by with the first 30 seconds to get the gist) .<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">make breakfast LIKE A BOSS<br /><br />feed the dog LIKE A BOSS<br /><br />do the laundry LIKE A BOSS<br /><br />send emails LIKE A BOSS<br /><br />scrape the van LIKE A BOSS<br /><br />drop off kids LIKE A BOSS<br /><br />do some shoppin' LIKE A BOSS<br /><br />forget apples LIKE A BOSS<br /><br />make some coffee LIKE A BOSS<br /><br />update files LIKE A BOSS<br /><br />sort spreadsheets LIKE A BOSS<br /><br />make a sippy LIKE A BOSS<br /><br />change a diaper LIKE A BOSS<br /><br />wash my hands LIKE A BOSS<br /><br />go up the stairs LIKE A BOSS<br /><br />trip on the last step LIKE A BOSS</span><br /><br />See? I can go on and on.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">edit photos LIKE A BOSS</span><br style="font-style: italic;"><br style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">answer the phone LIKE A BOSS</span><br style="font-style: italic;"><br style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">build a fort LIKE A BOSS</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7lcMV6gdxsCdW8-nas0HfZpSb5E_NvvkDG98_SRP00o7EZkr5q-MlGz6LF5ibdymvN0PxXiA5IpSFYFDRq4S8jROPoBZzH5C8c0m8LV9e7oY6YoXXEMPFhRuu8fzlkoWeBffCRQ/s1600/IMG_6625.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7lcMV6gdxsCdW8-nas0HfZpSb5E_NvvkDG98_SRP00o7EZkr5q-MlGz6LF5ibdymvN0PxXiA5IpSFYFDRq4S8jROPoBZzH5C8c0m8LV9e7oY6YoXXEMPFhRuu8fzlkoWeBffCRQ/s400/IMG_6625.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698746696925160978" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">wash peppers LIKE A BOSS</span><br style="font-style: italic;"><br style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">slice peppers LIKE A BOSS</span><br style="font-style: italic;"><br style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">eat pepper slices LIKE A BOSS</span><br /><br />Oy. See? Out. of. my. damn. mind.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">publish this post LIKE A BOSS</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-90725045458790904122012-01-05T17:58:00.004-06:002012-01-05T18:06:36.225-06:00To the End, Always the EndSitting at the table, with pieces of broken gluten-free pretzels...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrQxiZlpCN9A0kApN77XESxhlOnAqsZFj9NpzlcxbwTKLbGXnS6gqtH2XyjgQgiiVHtXkQLsQKCJVvac1CqWl9WQ27y7Zhw-y90oUBZDi-GXENsaiE2FxijawaD8UTgekAcqLtSA/s1600/IMG_1549.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrQxiZlpCN9A0kApN77XESxhlOnAqsZFj9NpzlcxbwTKLbGXnS6gqtH2XyjgQgiiVHtXkQLsQKCJVvac1CqWl9WQ27y7Zhw-y90oUBZDi-GXENsaiE2FxijawaD8UTgekAcqLtSA/s400/IMG_1549.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694302520082292898" border="0" /></a><br />"Mine, mine, mine. Ky-wee. Mine. Ky-wee."<br /><br />There's no question where Kylie the not-really-a-puppy-but-we-still-call-her-a-puppy's weight gain is coming from.<br /><br />(We won't discuss where my weight gain is coming from.)<br /><br />(Cookies.)<div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-77147462069543250052012-01-03T19:56:00.000-06:002012-01-03T19:56:44.155-06:00It Sounds Like a Whisper<span style="font-style: italic;">Happy new year to you.</span><br /><br />I keep flipping between excited and nervous for a new year. I feel it in my bones, this year will be different (and hey, maybe in part that will mean conquering some of the hoarding tendencies in this house) (I sure do hope so).<br /><br />We have a lot of changing already happening, none within our control. It's becoming a strap-on-your-shoes-and-do-some-ass-kicking moment. I feel like I kick enough ass as it is, <span style="font-style: italic;">thanks</span>, but apparently more needs to be tackled. So tackle it I (and we) will.<br /><br />But in the between, I'm looking to the light, to the hope for happiness and ultimately the best outcome for my family. To three smiling little faces who wrestle and scream and run in the house, who chase the dog and tickle each other and join me in my crazy kitchen dance parties.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVQk3SuSsN1vVIQpz0Baj0Jph0p9nGzWuSaQL9Bqh0jOOigHF091YxpsJkEGqBM3FgFyinlbr3Vyj8gp7yRTPHKzkHmg6IJNZQwKLWO8PYqLd3c-1ujuXh8eOvm4ULCK48ZK9jjQ/s1600/IMG_6574+copy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVQk3SuSsN1vVIQpz0Baj0Jph0p9nGzWuSaQL9Bqh0jOOigHF091YxpsJkEGqBM3FgFyinlbr3Vyj8gp7yRTPHKzkHmg6IJNZQwKLWO8PYqLd3c-1ujuXh8eOvm4ULCK48ZK9jjQ/s400/IMG_6574+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693586394915702898" border="0" /></a><br />It's an adventure, this crazy little life.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-67524538436925961412011-12-01T13:48:00.004-06:002011-12-01T14:03:05.023-06:00It's Too Close For Comfort<span style="font-style: italic;">Yes</span>, it is completely possible to live without a gallbladder.<br /><br />But I wouldn't recommend it.<br /><br />Other things I would not recommend:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">nerve damage</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">getting gluten'd</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">deciding to tear down and rebuild a walkout in less than 48 hours</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">going outside in the ice. or snow. or rain. or blistering heat.</span><br /><br />All in all we're fine. Getting back to normal - <span style="font-style: italic;">at least</span>, finding a new normal. A new normal with lots of pills to counter-balance the loss of a gallbladder.<br /><br />Today is the day we begin our advent calendars, also known as <span style="font-style: italic;">let's see how crazy the Lego people got this year</span>. We haven't opened them yet, but I'm on pins and needles to do so.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRqM2TQ9FnMB69p7Wm3atbOyo_wibYAlhu9Zq14A8uWLmJ5Cj_McWB7RJ-XYbQ6AYr3H5n_3cQpghGfIrT0LzVn1LdNIv-yRSjhfwBbMwIhyphenhyphenUn3H3aUr2lwREdr9eqW70hOM_B9Q/s1600/IMG_6250+PS.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRqM2TQ9FnMB69p7Wm3atbOyo_wibYAlhu9Zq14A8uWLmJ5Cj_McWB7RJ-XYbQ6AYr3H5n_3cQpghGfIrT0LzVn1LdNIv-yRSjhfwBbMwIhyphenhyphenUn3H3aUr2lwREdr9eqW70hOM_B9Q/s400/IMG_6250+PS.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681250871198255666" border="0" /></a><br />And yes, Emerson has gotten quite <span style="font-style: italic;">artistic</span> around here. His favorite medium is <span style="font-style: italic;">purposely spilled godawfullyexpensive formula</span>.<br /><br />I'm quite convinced the is the precursor to watercolors.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-68888252653915123462011-10-21T14:17:00.000-05:002011-10-21T14:18:00.887-05:00Lost in a Maze of a Thousand Rainy DaysI'm pretty certain I've finally washed the remaining hospital adhesive off my arms, legs, abdomen. If not yet, then<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>soon and <span style="font-style: italic;">damn<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span></span></span>that's taking a long time.<br /><br />Last Monday, Emery had his stomach scoping. It was scary but he came out of it all well and good and Tuesday morning Aaron hopped on a plane to Chicago 'cause it's Business Trip Season as in, hopefully we'll see him a few days a month between now and the New Year.<br /><br />Businesses take heed: we'd appreciate if you would budget better and not decide to do all your work during the holiday season<br /><br />Wednesday early morning I woke with Emery and felt awful but convinced myself it was in my head... a couple of hours later the allergist told me to call 911 (eh, breathing problems were involved) and instead I took a pain pill to deal with it all later in the day.<br /><br />A few hours later I was in ambulance apologizing for <span style="font-style: italic;">being dramatic</span> while the EMTs freaked out over my low pulse ox readings and ma'am, would you like some morphine? <span style="font-style: italic;">No thanks, I don't want to be dramatic</span>.<br /><br />Heh.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoHNgjgG_TiPmd2HbpuzNBjlT_2FDUN6Zij8eyJOhLfdykBeXe3nPVODDxaBlGCz9X4m0FwNfxGegEbQmZatfrAVF4gZDg7aNwWeyGi2ysmyX7xxwYqB6NBf44mftottq9d62Wxw/s1600/IMG_0982.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoHNgjgG_TiPmd2HbpuzNBjlT_2FDUN6Zij8eyJOhLfdykBeXe3nPVODDxaBlGCz9X4m0FwNfxGegEbQmZatfrAVF4gZDg7aNwWeyGi2ysmyX7xxwYqB6NBf44mftottq9d62Wxw/s400/IMG_0982.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666018881069548962" border="0" /></a><br />After a few tests, with my dad fretting in the ER with me (he simply does not do well in hospitals) (and my stepmom was home with all the boys), I was admitted. More tests over. Really, I swear - the pain was going to stop soon.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGrtAiNOlPqK3f4-04v9nF6FTkgXC8c5SrNk8XS7faqqYdhT0i4YrW-XSwkjTBjObV_6_aTh3EikE2Cx75KrhnxsFGaCdqtp8wFIO1brMbKQ0Hy91XAjaKiJrbWOdsNx1BmuUAhQ/s1600/IMG_0987+PS.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 399px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGrtAiNOlPqK3f4-04v9nF6FTkgXC8c5SrNk8XS7faqqYdhT0i4YrW-XSwkjTBjObV_6_aTh3EikE2Cx75KrhnxsFGaCdqtp8wFIO1brMbKQ0Hy91XAjaKiJrbWOdsNx1BmuUAhQ/s400/IMG_0987+PS.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666018502035712274" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">photo courtesy of <a href="http://pinkpicketfence.typepad.com/pink_picket_fence/">miss chris</a></span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></div><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span>A visit from a good friend (who pulled my hair back while I was sick, oh how hospitals can be so humbling), and a nuclear test later they were certain - my gallbladder had "died" and needed to come out.<br /><br />Hand to heaven, that's what the surgeons and nurses said, <span style="font-style: italic;">died</span>.<br /><span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"><span onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 8);ButtonMouseDown(this);" class=" down" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_CreateLink" title="Link"><img src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" alt="Link" class="gl_link" border="0" /></span></span><br />Aaron's swift return home. Surgery. Recovery. It's all blur.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA6zTYRbgM9SHvAdfz-to2AUAGcmZwb4EJ3STq1jmsrNqPXB9He9_Du6W0eITNRiNWIucMy_Lewzm2xjwDhxw9v7xMU2FzfVImXpwsrRyT6NfgTO5zooBgzfsRqwQR2WU48Kr3nA/s1600/IMG_0991.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA6zTYRbgM9SHvAdfz-to2AUAGcmZwb4EJ3STq1jmsrNqPXB9He9_Du6W0eITNRiNWIucMy_Lewzm2xjwDhxw9v7xMU2FzfVImXpwsrRyT6NfgTO5zooBgzfsRqwQR2WU48Kr3nA/s400/IMG_0991.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666019182355879906" border="0" /></a><br />Truth is, I've felt <span style="font-style: italic;">off</span> for quite awhile - but chalked it all up to having a sleepless toddler (2am is prime Party Time, doncha know), with a variety medical problems we're trying to figure out.<br /><br />Speaking of which, the pathology reports from Emery's scope came back and he has Eosinophilic Esophagitis, which explains his constant puking-of-real-food-but-only-rarely-his-special-formula.<br /><br />So. <span style="font-style: italic;">sigh</span>. New medicine starting this weekend. More scoping in a few months. Hoping to work with therapies that he can grow and begin eating like a normal child and not (nearly-worst-case scenario) needing a feeding tube in his belly.<br /><br />I mean, really.<span style="font-style: italic;"> Really.</span> This isn't suppose to be a medical blog.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15555813.post-68028359670300315732011-09-30T08:51:00.005-05:002011-09-30T09:31:20.181-05:00And You Think You'll Burst ApartA few weeks ago I decided <span style="font-style: italic;">I was tired of this shit</span>, "shit" in this case being all of Emery's constant puking and called the GI office at the local children's hospital.<br /><br />Two days later we were in the office, talking to the doctor - who I will never, ever visit again. Anyone who thinks I'll pay him to treat me like I'm stupid obviously isn't nearly as intelligent as he'd like to believe.<br /><br />The next day we were at the Occupational Therapist getting Emerson tested for a behavioral problem with vomiting; he was cleared of that diagnosis.<br /><br />The following day we were in Radiology having the worst x-ray experience of my life, where they fed him barium and ran the machine like a video feed, rotating him in this 18th century torture contraption. They thought he had a mal-rotated intestinal tract, but after another hour (!!!) of testing they deemed him anatomically perfect.<br /><br />The next week the GI's office called to say they have a diagnosis! He has acid reflux!<br /><br />My reply? "Um, yeah. I know. That's why I brought him to the office to begin with."<br /><br />So, here we are - now waiting for a stomach scope. Which they have to do in in-patient surgery due to his food allergies. Where he will be put under with anesthesia. I am not looking forward to that.<br /><br />A day later, I came down with Strep and here we are, more than a week later and I'm still not made of awesome - I blame the crazy antibiotics. I'm sure you'll agree.<br /><br />I've had the honor recently to participate in two quilting bees. One, <a href="http://emptybobbinsewing.com/2011/09/09/windy-city-a-quilt-for-jacquie/">a quilt for Jacquie</a> (oh, how we will miss her from KCMQG!) and <a href="http://spjacksonphoto.typepad.com/sarah_jackson_photography/2011/09/on-blogging-social-networks-and-good-old-fashioned-quilting-bees.html">a very special quilt of love</a>. Both ladies put into words what I simply cannot.<br /><br />Today is my and Aaron's 11th wedding anniversary. Three kids and one crazy puppy later, here we are: old, going gray and we still like each other. WIN!<br /><br />Tonight we celebrate as a family, ordering pizza, family movie night and bakery cupcakes. Monday we'll celebrate as a couple, dinner out and tickets to see Death Cab.<br /><br />I think this may beat last year's hardy high-five in the kitchen.<br /><br />In other news, have you seen Emerson?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLSg-hEBhxvmiV_iHKate4KevUTsoiWND5PIK-vnMx8Kizz0BrQ8Nx2R1LS6UWhFOj78uBzlPSA3ZZuUVap2VjyHj9iFpFEwz9XHL7bjMsGdCucufmWmRNV73xQyHdssA82GjF4Q/s1600/IMG_5812+PS.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLSg-hEBhxvmiV_iHKate4KevUTsoiWND5PIK-vnMx8Kizz0BrQ8Nx2R1LS6UWhFOj78uBzlPSA3ZZuUVap2VjyHj9iFpFEwz9XHL7bjMsGdCucufmWmRNV73xQyHdssA82GjF4Q/s400/IMG_5812+PS.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658154324542082962" border="0" /></a><br />Emery? Where are you?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivdi8q1mrMQ7kXB1ioB6UL27bx7ZhddLVwlep6_SwPDRpuWnuZa2bMstYCjOv2bjTFS3nl-6IPrBAmIya49osA0NtkWjb1UbyoSMtAfZpoVwZUTPBJMNn4OyIEJq61c63jv43-fw/s1600/IMG_5811+PS.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivdi8q1mrMQ7kXB1ioB6UL27bx7ZhddLVwlep6_SwPDRpuWnuZa2bMstYCjOv2bjTFS3nl-6IPrBAmIya49osA0NtkWjb1UbyoSMtAfZpoVwZUTPBJMNn4OyIEJq61c63jv43-fw/s400/IMG_5811+PS.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658154049765672050" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Peek-a-boo!</span> There you are!<div class="blogger-post-footer">Be Original!
Copyright 2005 - 2013</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5