I Could Stick Around and Get Along with You

Summer has managed to pop up and bite me in the ass so viciously that I cannot think straight.

Life is busy. Good busy. And hectic.

Two werken-over-full-time parents can be hard, but we're hitting summer with the best we got, we've visited the Maker Faire, the Great MidWest Balloon Fest, been doin' lots of gardening, sewing and sucking on sweet, sweet air conditioning.

Poetry in Motion

We have a freshly-minted seven year old in our home.

Bet you can't guess who.


Darwin is now seven. Seven!

I really have no idea how this happened.


Ever my old-soul child, Dar loves being a kid. "And a middle brother!" as he likes to say (despite me doing my best to never, ever call him that). Always up for a change of plans, always up for a new adventure, nothing ever phases him - unless he's happy doing what he's doing and we have other plans.

Loving: Legos, parks, Hex Bugs, board games, picking flowers, making art projects on the fly, comic books

Notsomuch: picking up sticks, early bed times, long car rides, daily journaling


On his birthday he chose "boss of the day," which meant vacation days from work for Momma and Daddy, lots of video games + presents + gluten-free chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast + shopping for DSi games + lunch at Cheeseburger's in Paradise + more shopping at the dinosaur store + family movie night with popcorn + cupcakes and sorbet. Whew.


Happy birthday, Darwin! As you like to say: Awesome! TOTALLY AWESOME, I TELL YA!

[Darwin at 2, Darwin at 3, Darwin at 4, Darwin at 5, Darwin at 6]

And He's Bringing Me a Surprise

It started with a rash. Then a fever. And listlessness.

Called the doctor. Told to wait. Half-an-hour later, headed to Urgent Care.


Within an hour, the rash nearly doubled.

"Due to his food allergies, we can't give him a shot." Went downtown to the big children's hospital.

Admitted.


"Heh," the doctor said. "No shot would've helped this anyway."

For once, food allergies helped us.

Official (-ish, because he never had an abscess to drain & run tests on) diagnosis: fast growing MRSA cellulitis

Required lots of IV antibiotics


Four days in the hospital is not awesome.

Don't You Know Now Is The Perfect Time

We're having a bit of growing pains as school is now out of session and we're home with mama and all our brothers all day.

After a few very rotten, horrible days we've moved to a new reward system. I think it's working, but today the naughtiness keeps coming even with redirection.

So we're focusing on other things, trips to the neighborhood pool...


... fresh flowers from the farmers market (I really do get the best of the bunch, I think)...


... and workin' on the postage stamp quilt. When I get an opportunity, of course.

Aaron just got home at 2am this morning (duuuuuuuuude) after his four-day-trip turned into an eight-day-trip and he still turned around and got to work on time. That boy deserves a trophy.

And lots of rain this weekend. So he won't have to do yard work (and so Mama can sew).

You Know it Feels Good to be Alive

photo credit: Scott Cook

The Midwest has been having a week with all this crazy-ass weather. Joplin, Missouri is three hours south of us and our heart breaks for that city, while we're incredibly grateful all our friends there were physically unharmed.

Tornado sirens went off in the Kansas City area on Wednesday. Aaron and his coworkers stood in the bathrooms, in the middle of the building, for an hour. Darwin, who was at school, went to the basement music room and watched two episodes of Reading Rainbow.

Griffin, who was home sick, Emerson, the dog and I went to our basement for over an hour.


At the beginning I ran up and down the stairs preparing while the boys sat. First run, bottled water, two cans of Emery's special formula, two clean sippy cups. Second run, shoes for me and Griffin, laptop (haven't updated the hard-drive in a long time, too many precious photo files to lose), cameras, battery packs, flashlights, dog leash. Third run, canned & boxed goods, can opener, prescription medicines.

Yes, I was a Girl Scout. Why do you ask?

After I was done with the running I closed the door. I keep a radio in my sewing area, blared it loud. Shifted furniture around in the basement so I could close a door in case there was flying glass. Pulled out a rag rug to sit on and watched Griffin freak the fuck out and puke for over half an hour, poor kid. He got that nervous tummy from his mama.

There were reports of a tornado touch-down less than two miles from our home but it turned out to be a false report. Local areas were hit, but nothing super-close to us.

And Buddha bless texting and the internet. Seriously, we were able to tell family and friends over a thousand miles away that yes, we are in the basement, yes we are all safe. So very grateful for that technology.

More storms are headed to the Kansas City area this weekend, high hopes of just rain and no funnel action. But water, formula and sippys are still in the basement - just in case.

Kill the Lights and Shut the DJ Down

Here you go, a little happy for your weekend: some of our favorite songs.

Which you have activate yourself, YOU'RE WELCOME. Blogs that auto-play music. That shit needs to stop. Please. Think before you auto-play stuff... you don't wanna lose readers 'cause someone's reading blogs at work and YOUR MUSIC BLOWS THEIR COVER, amirite? I am right.

Hap-hap-happy weekend to you!

You the One to Please

Took Emery to the doctor yesterday for his nine-month well-baby check (dude, he's been out for as long as he was in, weird).

Weight - 7th percentile
Height - 12th percentile
Head Circumference - 70th percentile

Baby got some smarty-smart brain up in there, yo.

We discussed a lot of things (including this horrible head cold we are all battling), even a medical issue we've been in deep, deep denial about. The doctor was convinced things would get better, but she's starting to agree that it's much more serious than previously thought.

Unfortunately, there's no known medical help we can do, which makes it all that much more serious. Yes, some people have been known to live with the condition for a long time, but typically their life is cut short.

Y'all, Emerson is a zombie.

It explains a lot, if you really think about it:

lack of sleep (the better to liquify my brains)

the odd undertone of braaaaiiinnnnnssss when he cries - bbbbBBBBbbrraaaAAAAIIIIiiiiIINNNNNSSSssssssss

his forcefulness to try to shove a spoon in my ear (you know, to eat the brains)

his inability to heal his skin ('cause, you know, HE'S A ZOMBIE and zombies are like dead and stuff and aren't known for their healthy-glow) (unless they are full of brrraaaaiiinnnnsss)


Other going-ons ('cause like I said, DENIAL ABOUT MAH ZOMBIE BAYBEE), Darwin has mastered the monkey bars:


but with MUCH trepidation. And both boys finished up spring soccer...


... which means we can focus on other things, like canning. And preserving my bbbrraaaiiinnnnssss.

And He's Watching His Reflection

My Succotash Wish

We need some normal around here.

I don't know what normal is but damn it, I want it.

The past few weeks have been marred with the mastitis (which, at this level is challenging the stupid fucking foot for ridiculousness) making its comeback, trip to the hospital, meeting with a breast surgeon, meeting with an infectious disease doctor, more antibiotics and talks of hospital stays.

To which I say, ohmyhell.

I'm much better now, but in deep, deep denial of "needing" to go back to the breast surgeon and "get somethin' on the books." I feel fine now, really. Okay, I feel better. But better is awesome and I don't wanna go to the hospital.

Now I'm figuring out how life is with three kids (heh, instead of "two kids and a nursing babe") (although, I'm still somewhat in denial that I have three kids) (Emerson is an excellent accessory, he fits nicely on the hip - baby jewelry, I like to think of him), a healthy mama and a daddy who is about to go on his first big business trip since I got sick-slash-weened.


Oh boy.

Youthful Magic Moments

I never intended to have a medical blog. Or a blog so medically-heavy. But whatever. My blog. My life. My boobs that I seriously contemplated cutting off.

Um, what?

OH YEAH, YOU HEARD ME. Cutting off my boobs seemed (heh, still seems) like a good idea.

'Cause I got Mastitis again. 'Causes someone bit the holy hell out of me and made me bleed, bleed, bleed multiple times despite workin' on weaning.

So, yes. Fever over 104 for two days. Dizziness. Big red streaks across my boob (B is for boobie, which is no longer good enough for E! Oh, boobie, boobie, boobie starts with B) and to gild the lily, non-gluten-free medicine taken for 24 hours.

'Cause you know, the Mastitis alone was simply not good enough.

Six days later and I've been fever-free for less than 24 hours but oh-so-much-better. Aaron went back to work today. I was able to carry the baby without fear of dropping him. Life is good.

In all honestly, I don't remember too much. I've been told that crazy-ass fever will do that to the brain. But my nerd-self can't help but wonder what else am I forgetting? Quantum mechanics? String theory? How to make a damn good gluten-free chocolate chip cookie?


One thing is for certain: Emerson is weaned. No more boobies for you!