Posts (page 2)
December 27, 2004, the lil' munchkin decided to make her appearance into our world and changed mine and beloved's lives forever. She always seemed to be on the early side of doing things and four months into life, she proved it once again by sprouting her first two teeth. Two middle teeth on the bottom made our little bald girl even cuter.
Fast forward four years and one month later.
Thursday evening, I sat at my desk in the family area as the kids played. I was on the phone talking to my mom and the lil' munchkin comes running over to me, "Mommy, I really lost a tooth!"
I FREAKED out! It's too early for that! She had to have yanked on it, right? The panic in my voice was evident as I tried to determine what to do, what dentist to take her to, who could put it back in my little girl's mouth, what to do, what to do, how did you do this!!
My Mom tried to calm me down from the other side of the telephone and tell me that it could happen this early. I replied that there was NO way! This doesn't happen until they are 6 or 7!
I asked the lil' munchkin what she had done, and she excitedly told me, "Nothing, Mommy. I promise! I was chewing my granola bar and then there was something crunchy and then it fell out!"
I settled down a little and began searching the internet to see if it does happen this early.
Sure enough.
The first lost tooth typically ocurs around 6 or 7, but can happen as early as 4 - especially when the child was an early teether.
The lil' munchkin's excitement was contagious and I allowed her to stay up a little later to call and spread the news to her friends.
Upon the call to Daddy during his meeting, she shared the news with him, and I heard his response from where I sat, "What? Let me talk to Mommy." The panic I had felt was evident in his tone as well.
I calmed him and let him know what I had looked up and that yes, she had lost her tooth naturally and not due to some accident.
Next on the list was preparation for the Tooth Fairy.
I borrowed the move that I grew up with and we placed the tooth in a glass of water in the kitchen - that makes it so much easier for the Tooth Fairy to get it versus being under the head of a sleeping child.
The next morning, my newly gap-toothed lil' munchkin rushed to see if the Tooth Fairy had come and immediately began counting her silver coins. Then she ran down to show Daddy the gap.
I can look at the little tooth that was in my daughter's mouth only days ago and I'm still in shock. Must this child of mine doing everything early?
Bear's vocab has simply exploded in the last several months. He is talking up a storm and parrots whatever anyone says. He kept repeating, "look at me, mama" last night as he ran up and down the sidewalk. He loves to tell me when something is all gone, icky, or broken. He will repeat it until you acknowledge that whatever he is saying is true.
My beloved called me on the way to take him to school this morning though and told me that he had had a very active morning. When he tugged Bear's arm to help him brush his teeth, Bear looked at him and said, "you broke my arm!"
Then as he ran down the hallway, he tripped and fell and looked up at my Beloved and said, "broke my leg!"
Wow.
Two broken limbs in one morning. I think that may even top my broken kneecap!
The night after I fell and broke my kneecap, I was downstairs working at my desk and talking on the phone with a business associate. Beloved was working in his office, and I could hear the merriment of the bug and the bear playing contentedly with one another upstairs.
Then I heard crying.
I didn't immediately jump up as when you live in a house with a 2 year old and a 4 year old, there is often some sort of crying that typically doesn't require parental intervention.
Then I heard the lil' munchkin holler Mommy.
I continued with my phone call and then she hollered something that made me immediately end my phone call, jump up (well, as fast as someone with a broken knee can "jump up"), and hobble up the stairs as fast as I could with one good knee.
"Mommy, there's blood!"
My heart raced when I made it up a flight and a half of stairs to see my Bear sitting on the landing with blood rushing down his face. I scooped him, made it up the rest of the stairs and stumbled to the bathroom. I set him on my lap and grabbed a washcloth. I knew immediately by looking at the gash with a hole in the center that this would require a trip to the emergency room.
My beloved was on a deadline, so I told him I was fine to take him and my mom would meet me up there.
We loaded both kids in the car and I dragged the dreaded "straight leg" into the van.
I made it to the ER and my Mom soon followed. We waited for a while in the waiting room and then we were taken to an exam room where we waited longer. Once the doctor came in to look at it, he informed us that they would be able to use dermabond (basically superglue) to seal the wound and we would not have to fight with stitches. Another 30 minutes later and the wound was sealed as Bear continued to scream, "take it off." Yet another 30 minutes, we were finally discharged and the four of us made it outside to head back to our homes.
By the next evening, Bear had most of the dermabond picked off and the wound was reopened. Not much we could do for it at this point, but we gave it a valiant effort for him to not have a scar on his head.
I've had my share of emergency rooms for a while.
So April 25 was the last posting I did. There's a really good reason for that. I've been a little preoccupied with simply trying to get around with an ankle to thigh immobilizer on my left leg.
On April 27, I fell. Directly on my left knee. Directly on concrete. I was immediately enveloped in severe pain and then spent the evening in the emergency room. X-rays confirmed what my beloved had already diagnosed. I had broken my kneecap. All on my own. No car wreck, no sports injury, no mafia wanting their money back. I simply slipped and fell. I don't even have a cool story to go along with it.
I was placed in a temporary immobilizer, drugged, and sent home on crutches with orders to see an orthopedic surgeon the next day. At that appointment, he said that while the bone was broken, the joint wasn't affected. I won't go into too many details, but will say that there were a couple of needles involved and I probably hurt a few eardrums. He wanted me to come back in one week and as long as I didn't need surgery, they would put me in a jointed immobilizer.
I was sent home again with more drugs and orders to stay off of my leg. (see my next posting for what actually happened this night).
Fast forward to the following Monday and we had to back to see the Dr. again. He had reviewed the x-rays again and believed that we could heal it without doing surgery. I was sent to get the jointed immobilizer after being told that it would be locked in 'zero' for the next three weeks. I broke down as I had hoped that I would have movement from this appointment.
We obtained the new "massive" immobilizer that makes me look like a character from "Terminator" and headed home. I was too worn out to do anything but take some pain medication and crash.
Here it is the 14th of May and I've been 2 1/2 weeks without bending my knee. and I still have 2 more weeks before they'll even consider letting me bend it even the slightest little bit.
And? It pretty much sucks.
Promise me you'll try very hard to never, ever break a kneecap...
The other night as the kids were bathing, I was watching them and folding laundry. I suddenly heard a familiar tune emanating from the bathtub. I looked directly at Bear and saw him with a huge smile on his face slightly hestitantly singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." I beamed at him and encouraged him along until he had sang the entire song. I yelled down to Beloved that Bear had made his singing debut. I could tell by the look on his face that he was quite proud of himself.
After getting out of the bathtub, I went to get him a cup of milk and the song followed me down the stairs. I asked him if he wanted to call Grandma and Grandpa T. to sing to them and he emphatically shook his head yes. I dialed the phone for him and handed it over. He sang his song to an enraptured audience and once again beamed with pride.
"My turn."
"I do it."
"Hode me"
"out dere"
"dat one"
"dis one"
"maahhy sissy"
"huggies... kisses"
"I wub ewe"
These are all words and phrases that my blossoming bear has been uttering to me and the rest of the family more and more. He's developing into quite the verbal machine and has no issue telling you what it is he wants.
I definitely have my favorites and there are always those words that might send perfect strangers into fits as they hear a different word than what he is truly meaning (take "clock" for instance...). But I must say that it freaks me out somewhat to see my son furrow his brows, grin manaically, and race towards me as he growls out, "bite mommy."
Trying to keep up with working full time, starting a business, and two children (not to mention trying to not let my house fall into a "condemned" status) keeps me rather busy. Things have been absolutely crazy around this Casa de Crazy.
But today, I am off of work and am going to enjoy breakfast and a movie with my beloved, get my crazy bargain shopping done, and then pick up the kids early from school.
Bear still decided that I should be awakened at 5:30, however, so here I sit at 6 am having coffee and watching my two children who should be called weeds instead for how fast they are growing.
As the 5 year old birthday invitations roll in for the lil' munchkin, I realize that she will be 5 this year. Five? Can that possibly be correct? In all fairness, I realize that it's not until the very end of the year, but still... seriously? And Bear is just as bad. For so long, he's been my "baby" and he still is - they both are - but Bear can carry on a conversation with me now. When did that happen?
These two children of mine are growing so quickly that sometimes I feel I'm missing so much just by being gone from them a solid work day. I come home, not to a toddler and a baby, but to two children! Often playing together like the best of playmates. It's as though I blinked and my little ones were replaced by these two.
I'm sure there is this recognition in every parent as some point when they look at their children and realize they are no longer six months old, or two, or even twenty. But where in the world does the time go? It's not as if I want to freeze them and keep them at a specific age forever - I just want to enjoy the oh so short years - even when they consist of very long days.
Okay, I created a Hallmark Card for Father's Day and am a finalist!!! The voting is going on right now and I need everyone's help!
Go to www.hallmark.com to create an account.
Then go to www.hallmarkcontests.com to vote "Now that's all Boy" by Stacey Neal is my card. That is Bear's behind on the cover :)
Please help spread the word and vote daily beginning now through May 3rd.
The card will be availalble for purchase beginning May 11!
Happy Father's Day and Thank You to everyone!!!
Last weekend was a very rough weekend. We said our final Goodbyes to our beloved Daisy on Friday evening. Saturday was spent a little in shock and Sunday was spent about the same. As I was settling down to watch tv before bed on Sunday evening about 8:30 pm, the phone rang. When I answered it, it was my neighbor, with whom we used to share a sitter. I felt like I was losing it as she told me that G had passed away.
He just had surgery in December! He should have been around for many, many more years! My heart sang as the realization of the loss set in. My heart bled for L. My daughter always combined their names into one and that summarized it for me. They were one entity. They were each other's everything.
They had given me so much. The ability to go back to work a little easier. The knowledge that my children were not only cared for, but loved. Grandpa G. was as big as life.
Even after his bypass in December, his humor was good, his outlook was great. But that ended with him at the age of 68.
Last week was filled with the visitation and funeral and visiting L. on Saturday. She is struggling. She told me that his heart had sustained damage before the bypass and he could recover from that. My hugs for her simply couldn't do enough. I felt extraordinarily inadequate. All I can do is be there for her.
G., thank you for all that you were. You will be missed.
Our youngest Dachshund has a penchant for flair. He gets rather excited to play dress-up and will dance around like a High School Music wannabe. When Beloved and I met, he swore up and down that the dog was gay. To this day, he says that if Dachser was human that he would be a dancer on broadway. I pretty much agree.
Last night as we ate dinner, Dachser was running around the table and the lil' munchkin said something about him. Beloved looked at her and stated that Dachser was gay and we still loved him very much.
I had to stifle my laughter when she very seriously replied to her Daddy, "He is not! He doesn't have any gay on him!"
