Archive for June, 2010

For the Love of Stitches… and Snot

June 25, 2010

So I haven’t been writing because my life has been yucky and full of stitches and snot. My baby girl Fi’s surgery went well and she was a doll. All of the nurses were amazed by how fabulous she was. She ate for the last time before surgery at 5:30 in the morning because her surgery was supposed to be at 1:00 but Dr. Bufo the Amazing was THREE AND A HALF HOURS LATE. Some punk kid decided it was okay to have his appendix burst and of course Dr.Bufo had to slice and dice and clean this boy out before he could operate on my beautiful girl.

Fiona June was incredible- she didn’t cry or fuss even though she was starving and hadn’t eaten in over ten hours by the time Dr. Bufo the Amazing even got there. (I will always for the rest of my life refer to my girls’ surgeon as Dr. Bufo the Amazing- he operated on one of my children every six months for the last year and a half. He’s in my circle of trust, also known as my Christmas card list.)

I actually wasn’t irritated that Dr. Bufo the Amazing was late; I was too preoccupied by the fact that not so long ago we had the punk kid who needed emergency surgery. It feels like its been a million years since Fi had her first surgery but the reality is I have cereal in my pantry that is older than Fiona.

I would love to say that things were smooth sailing after that but it was not to be. Fi got a respiratory and double ear infection, which were extremely painful for her. Sneezing and coughing and major stomach surgery aren’t really the best combination. I couldn’t even give her any good narcotics! I guess my body decided that as her devoted mother I should suffer right along with her, so I came down with my own sinus and double ear infection. (What am I, a freakin’ 3 year old?)

But we survived, several rounds of antibiotics, Tylenol, steroids and mini nervous breakdowns later we are all still standing (except Fi, she is still trying to get the sitting thing down.) And honestly I kept thinking I should blog but honestly, even my fingers were too tired to move until a couple of days ago. The End.


Teal and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day…

June 11, 2010

I found out yesterday that Fi has to have her second surgery much sooner than thought. Like, next Tuesday. She has been cranky and spitting up way more than usual the past two weeks and so I figured I would take her to the pediatrician for a weight check and to make sure her thrush had cleared up. Part of me knew however, that we would probably walk out of the office with an operating room time slot that had Fiona’s name on it.

In addition to this, Kay decided she was going to spend the rest of the day alternating asking “why,” and re-enacting scenes from The Exorcist- namely the part where the little girl’s head spins around and pea soup comes out. Her best performance of the day by far was in the car on our way home from the doctor.

It is amazing how worked up a person can get even on a short drive home. By the time I had gotten in the house and put the girls down for their nap, I was cursing my situation, and Kay’s bad attitude, and Fi’s second surgery in six months-the third we’ve been through in two years. On top of that my dryer was full of towels to be folded and a sink full of dishes.

Then I found out that Kristin Hoke passed away Wednesday night from her 5 year long battle with breast cancer, leaving her husband and 3 year old daughter behind.

Suddenly I was overwhelmed with gratitude for my misery and frustration and exhaustion. Because it meant that I’m alive. Alive to take care of my children. Alive to experience joy and misery and be  hungry and tired and in love. I have never been so grateful for a terrible, no good, horrible day in my entire life.

Would You Like Some Chili with Your Arsenic?

June 8, 2010

The fabulous Dr. G (my 60 year old, foul-mouthed Cuban therapist) gave me the assignment several months ago of cooking dinner for my family 4-5 nights a week. So I dusted off my cookbooks and my all-clad and went at it. For the first several months it went great and Patrick was super responsive and very quickly his fear was replaced with a full, happy tummy. (I used to be so inept in the kitchen, I once lit a pot holder on fire while boiling water.) However, over the last couple of weeks as I cooked healthier in order to get rid of the extra Teal that has been following me around since being pregnant with Kay, his appreciation has waned significantly.

I am starting to wonder of this whole cooking dinner thing is going to work out. I get that Patrick is not a small dude but seriously, does something always have to die in order for a meal to be acceptable to his Neanderthal palette? I spent three hours last night making amazing chili from scratch but he was less than excited about it because it was vegetarian. Oh, and he also doesn’t do leftovers. EVER.

A friend and I were talking the other day about all the things we do in the community and concluded that because a lack of gratitude can sour the experience of serving others, perhaps one needs to serve purely for service’ sake. This is much easier said than done, of course, especially when serving your dubious husband dinner.

But maybe I am not really cooking for him, but instead for both of us. Almost everything we eat now is from scratch and organic, and while I love it and am happy to eat kale and barley for the rest of my life, Patrick may not be. And if it’s hard for him to feign excitement the first night of spinach, then that second night it must be nearly impossible. (He is the guy who spends much of his free time dreaming about what one could possibly squeeze out of a can a la easy cheese.)

So I guess if Patrick doesn’t jump up and down in excitement over vegetarian chili and quinoa, then I can’t really hold it against him. Maybe I can compromise some and add a little Velveeta and sour cream to his breakfast burrito instead of trying to make him crunchy like yours truly.

I No Longer Bowl Alone…

June 4, 2010

I went to the beach today with a group of women from church. I dragged my two kids, a beach tent, towels, a stroller and many bottles of water and was two and a half hours late. No one sat in the tent, the towels got sand all over the car, the stroller that can supposedly be pushed in the sand had to be carried, and the only water Kay wanted to drink came out of someone else’s Macdonald’s cup that had sand in it and used to be filled with diet coke. IT WAS THE BEST DAY EVER!

This is a great lesson for me that just because things don’t go the way I had planned doesn’t mean that experiences can’t still be awesome. I walked away from the beach today as the storm clouds gathered and the sharks swam close to the shore, feeling loved and part of something extremely special.

I am not saying that being Mormon is the only way to feel the kind of love and acceptance that I felt today, but being a part of a group is definitely the best way to get there. The other day on Oprah, some guy named Troy the Locator said “who loves you when you need them, that’s your family.” Not everyone gets the family of their dreams and that’s okay. This is America people, where all are entitled to the pursuit of happiness AND a family that makes them feel loved and accepted like they deserve.