The random thoughts that flutter through my mind...
In the year 2006 I resolve to: Start spamming people I do not like. Get your resolution here. |
howard on doing my part for th...
rustymadgal on doing my part for th...
My birthday: April 17
My anniversary: April 25
YIM: downbutterflylane
If I had a billion dollars, I'd give a million to each of my friends and family. I'd have an indoor gym and pool built at my college. I'd pay for teachers aides at my daughter's school. I'd buy every book Nora Roberts ever wrote, and I'd fly to her next book signing so I could tell her thank you for saving my sanity by giving me an escape from reality for a few hours at a time.
.
1,000 Shades of Fool
American Girl
Buddhists Do Scratch Their Heads Too
DJGroovySlug
FlyLady.net
He Wrote, She Wrote
I choose not to believe
I Was Just Thinking...
Jill Shalvis
Long and Writing Road
Miss Snark
Passionate Chaos
Pub Rants
Questions Asked, Questions Answered
Running With Quills
Still I Rise
Sublime Vacuity
The Steal-Me Book
Turn the Page
Woodland Rambles
today
April 2008
May 2007
March 2007
February 2007
January 2007
December 2006
November 2006
October 2006
September 2006
August 2006
July 2006
June 2006
May 2006
April 2006
March 2006
February 2006
January 2006
December 2005
November 2005
October 2005
September 2005
August 2005
July 2005
June 2005
May 2005
April 2005
March 2005
February 2005
January 2005
December 2004
November 2004
October 2004
September 2004
August 2004
July 2004
June 2004
May 2004
Taken from the ALA website
Books I have read are italicized.
My kitchen is decorated in coffee and teas, so this is quite apt. Stole it from MizLiciouss.
| You Are an Espresso |
 At your worst, you are: anxious and high strung You drink coffee when: anytime you're not sleeping Your caffeine addiction level: high |
I just finished a quiz that was due before 8am, that I sort of forgot about. Also have some accounting problems due tomorrow. Haven't even opened the book yet. I'll do it in the morning. (Okay, the truth is, I'll probably take the kids to school, come home, nap until class time, then tell the professor that I left my homework at home... which will be sort of true- it will be at home, just not done yet. Semantics. Yeah, I know, it would be a lie... but its such a boring class. Actually, I could just tell him the truth- which is that we had two babies born last week and I"ve been a little busy getting things ready for the one who was nearly three weeks early, and homework just wasn't high enough on the priority list. Making sure the crib sheets were washed, and that the baby had preemie clothes washed and ready to wear, and driving back and forth to the hospital, and making sure my mother didn't drive the new parents crazy... that sort of stuff just seemed a little more important. Besides- Cost Accounting? C'mon. The only thing worse than Cost is Managerial.)
My sister called me Saturday and asked if I"d go pick up an inexpensive preemie outfit since none of the 0-3 month clothes fit him, and she wanted him to have something cute to wear for his official hospital picture and to come home in. So... the kids and I went and bought him a few outfits, took them to my sister's house (since that's where the Dreft was) and washed them, along with his crib sheet, a couple of extra bassinet sheets we got him, and some blankets that his daddy's mom bought to match the bedding set I got on Thursday. Then, I put away all of the clean stuff but the outfits and a blanket that she wanted for the background for his picture and we went to the hospital to see Cayden and his mommy. Of course, she loved the outfits (my favorite was blue and yellow striped and had a football embroidered on it, Ethel picked a little blue and white striped baseball outfit, and George picked a white one with tiny trains all over it, plus we got a red fleece shirt that will go with the baseball and the trains). Since he's so tiny, feeding him takes forever- but I managed to offer a suggestion that helped a little. I suggested that they try rubbing the bottle nipple against the roof of his mouth- it activates the sucking reflex (which fortunately seems to work just fine even though he's so tiny) and it worked. Yay for Auntie! I was useful. As a reward for my excellent advice (lol) I got to hold him for a few minutes. He is sooo tiny- George was literally almost two of him when he was born. (4lb 12 oz versus 9lb 5oz) I'm so sleepy that none of this is making much sense. I'm rambling. As soon as I get the code number so I can access Cayden's hospital picture, I'll post it.
Okay, going to go nap for four three-and-a-half hours until I hafta get the kids up. Then I'm going back to bed. Screw accounting.
6:31 pm: My sister is, as I type, in the hospital, attached to loads of annoying beeping machines, waiting not-so-patiently for her son to make an appearance. He's not officially due for almost three weeks still, but he's not gaining as well as they would like in there, so the dr wants him out here. So... she was induced at 9pm last night. When I left the hospital at 4:45 this afternoon, she was dilated to three. Slow progress.
6:55 pm -Update: Just talked to her. She was still only dilated to 3, and Cayden's heartrate drops quite a bit with every contraction, so her doctor decided to go ahead and do a c-section. They were getting ready to wheel her away to the operating room when I talked to her. (I told her to look at the bright side- at least she won't be in labor any longer!) My mom's going to call me when it's all over.
Fingers crossed for Mommy and baby.
8:03 pm: He's here! He's 4lb, 12 oz. Doctor said he's doing fine- the pediatrician is checking him out now. Mommy is out cold- they had to put her completely under, so she's not going to be coherent for a few hours yet. Everything went well. Hooray!
My new niece arrived today. She weighed 8lbs, 8 oz, was 21 1/2 inches long, and (despite my not having gotten to see her yet) is absolutely adorable. As soon as the hospital website puts up her newborn picture, I'll post it. For now, though-
Welcome to the world, Kria Ann!
(Fortunately for her father, her mother didn't decide to change her name at the last minute- since he'd already had her name tattooed onto his arm. Considering what an ass my little brother has been the last seven months or so, it would have served him right.)
Grandpa didn't seem to remember who we were- we being my sisters and I. We brought him a Dr. Pepper, and he actually drank some of it. His eyes lit up when he saw the can, and when I asked if he wanted some, he grinned. Just for a second, he looked like the memories I have of my grandpa. "Weeellll, I think I could handle a little of that."
He kept telling us about the trucks on the ceiling, how they were just whipping by- and not semis, just straight trucks. He'd be talking one minute, and staring at the ceiling the next, with a look of absolute fascination. To a man who almost never even took an aspirin, drug-related hallucinations must be pretty cool stuff. I don't know what they have him on, but he seemed comfortable- moaned a little when he sat up, but that was about it.
When we got there the first time, he was sitting in his little chair, staring at his lunch. He'd pick up the fork, look at the tray, then sit the fork down again. My dad cut his sandwich up into bites for him, and actually managed to feed him one. Grandpa said that he was trying not to eat. He started to drink a little of his coffee, but he shook so much that he spilled it onto his lap. Then dad had to leave, because he was starting to cry.
He kept saying, "Well, I think I'll be going home now." Once he actually got up and tried to leave. He's attached to an oxygen line, an i.v., and a catheter bag. The catheter bag looked bad- the color of old blood. Dark red. Turns out the cancer is in his kidneys, not his bladder, and its also in the ninth vertebrae of his spine. The doctors told my uncle that if it was just the kidneys they could probably have done surgery and taken care of it, but with it in his spine, too, there's nothing they can do but make him comfortable.
We left after he had lunch and went to McDonalds for lunch, and drove around a little, then went back to the hospital. He was asleep when we first got there, so we went down and sat in the lobby for half an hour and read old magazines. When we went back up, there were people from his church visiting. We stayed for about half an hour longer, then told him goodbye. I asked if he needed anything before we left, and he said, "Come back". He asked us if we knew how to get out of there, then said, "Go out this way, and turn left."
I don't know if I'll ever see him alive again, so I'm doubly glad that I went yesterday. Even though he was pretty confused most of the time, there were moments when he was lucid enough to talk to, and I'll always have the memories of that grin- over a can of Dr. Pepper.
Not the best day I've ever had.
Overslept- woke up right at the time the school bell was ringing at Ethel's school. Oops. I ended up being an hour late to work.
Warning: The next two paragraphs contain graphic descriptions of George's bout with the flu.
Picked up George at daycare and his teacher told me that he'd just thrown up. He seemed fine, though, so we thought it might just be the s'mores he had for snack. Wrong. He did it again as I was buckling him into the carseat. When we got to the FFY to get Ethel, I pulled up to the front entrance and called from my cell to ask them to walk her out so I wouldn't have to take him in. Good thing, too- about two minutes later he urped again. While I was driving. No place to pull over. Not good.
That pattern continued at fifteen minute intervals for roughly the next six hours, the monotony only broken by his inability to make it onto the toilet once when he had an episode of diarrea. Had to wash the bathroom rug. (He looked so sad, standing there with his undies around his knees. He said, "I'm sorry, Mom, I was trying to sit on the potty and the poo just fell out of my butt." It was all I could do not to sit in the floor and laugh until I cried.) Once he went to sleep, I sprayed the entire livingroom with Lysol and threw the blankets he'd been lying under in the wash.
End graphic description of flu attack.
Found out that pregnant sister (who is due in 4 1/2 weeks) may be induced next week. Baby only weighed 4 lbs last week according to ultrasound, and her Dr thinks that he might be better off out here with a bottle or breast. She'll know next week after they give her another ultrasound.
Oh, and while we're on the subject of bad days... found out today that my grandpa has bladder cancer, which has spread to his spinal column, and he's too old and frail for surgery or chemo... so they're just trying to set up hospice so he can go home to die. I'm going up Sunday with my dad and sisters to see him (he lives about five hours away). I haven't really spent that much time with him- he was a trucker for most of my childhood, so even though he lived in the same town as we did, I only saw him once a month or so. Then he moved in with my aunt and her family several years ago. Since then I've only seen him at family get-togethers a few times a year.
My strongest memory of him is the massive collection of hats he used to own. There was one with a giant toucan beak like Toucan Sam, one with moose antlers... I don't even remember most of them, but he had hundreds, all unique. And the Dr. Pepper. Used to be the only time I'd get Dr. Pepper to drink was when we visited him. He told funny stories when he was in the mood, but usually he just didn't seem to have too much interest in kids.
My dad and I were talking about going to visit, and he made the comment that it was important to go while we could- then he said "He may not have been the best Grandpa, but he did the best he knew how." That's true. The thing that really bothers me is that I don't really feel sad. Shouldn't I feel sad that my Grandpa is dying?
I've been really blessed- I have all four grandparents still alive, plus an extra step-grandpa (although we've always treated him as a regular grandpa- I was probably twelve or thirteen before it ever occured to me that he wasn't a blood relation). Within the last year, though, my mom's mom (Grandma Z.) has had a stroke and is suffering from dementia- she doesn't recognize people- although she has always known me so far. Mom kept trying to tell me that Grandma Z. wasn't the same, but I didn't want to go visit her because I didn't want to see it, I guess. I'd talk to her on the phone now and then, but she didn't really seem any different then. I saw her on New Year's Eve and I was shocked. She didn't remember that my sister was pregnant, she didn't know who George was (even though he visits her with my mom frequently), she didn't recognize several members of the family. She just seemed so lost and feeble. It broke my heart. And now dad's dad (Grandpa E.) is dying. What happened? I thought they were going to live forever. My step grandpa (Grandpa T.) had a stroke last summer- he's still recovering. All five of them are getting old. None of them are likely to live another five years. Grandma Z. would have been so proud of me for actually going to college and getting a degree- she was probably the only one who really tried to make me get a decent education. By the time I graduate she won't even know what's going on. George is so young he might not ever remember her how she was a year ago, shen she'd get down on the floor and play cars with him... and sneak him and Ethel cookies when they thought I wasn't looking... and tell stories about when she was a girl. Grandma Z. was always the one I called when something went wrong. When my mom had her first nervous breakdown and wouldn't stop crying, I called Grandma Z., and she came and took care of things. When I needed to get away from my family for awhile, I went to Grandma's. When I was 15 I spent a whole winter with her and Grandpa Z. in Florida. It was great. When I was short on rent once, it was Grandma Z. who snuck me money and told me I could pay it back whenever I had the money. I always did, too.
Why is it that he's the one dying but it's her I'm mourning?
...twice this week, actually. It ties in with the counter on the sidebar and my refusal to go weighing nearly twice what I did in high school. (Admittedly, that was only 90 pounds, but still. It's the principle of the thing.)
Weighed myself at the gym yesterday: 164.5. Goal: 135 by July 22, 2006. That averages out to just over a pound a week. We'll see if it works. If I can find one I'm going to put a weight-loss tracker on here, too.
So far today I've eaten 2 mini muffins (blueberry) -100 calories, a corn cobbett, a piece of fish and a piece of chicken from Long John Silvers - 500 calories, and Oshu just went to pick up dinner. I'm having a Bacon Ranch Salad with Grilled Chicken from McDonalds. 260 calories (not including the dressing, of which I'll only use a little- I'm not big on salad dressing, so figure another 50 at most. That puts me at 910 calories for the day... and I'll have a small snack later, maybe.
because Ethel went to school today and told her teacher that she wasn't at school yesterday because I had a cold and I didn't want to take her. She also told her that the reason she missed the last two days before Christmas break was that I didn't know there was school those days. She was sick then, too. And I talked to the school office on all three days and let them know that she was sick. At any rate, the teacher called me this morning to ask... so of course Ethel is in big trouble, the little rat.
-Via MSN Messenger.
We got a new desktop, and put the old one in the kitchen so Ethel could play on it. I set her IM account up (she's had her own email account since kindergarten) and went upstairs so she could practice talking to me. This is a transcript of that conversation (with identifying details changed).
Ethel says:
Hello?
ButterflyLane says:
hi there
Ethel says:
How ya doin
ButterflyLane says:
okay. you?
Ethel says:
Ethel here
ButterflyLane says:
i know you're Ethel, silly girl.
ButterflyLane says:
Is your tummy feeling any better now?
Ethel says:
yeah
ButterflyLane says:
good. Do you want some warm tea? I could make peppermint for you, it might settle your tummy.
Ethel says:
okay
ButterflyLane says:
I'll be down in a minute.
Ethel says:
yay
Ethel says:
La da da da, la da da de,ERIC THE HALF A
Ethel says:
Ack! he's got me!
ButterflyLane says:
you rotten kid. you're even tormenting me on messenger!
ButterflyLane says:
i love you
Ethel says:
OOPS!
ButterflyLane says:
what did you do?
Ethel says:
Nothing just TORMENTION
ButterflyLane says:
punk.
Ethel says:
ARRGH!
ButterflyLane says:
pickles!
Ethel says:
JUST COME DOWN HERE!
ButterflyLane says:
fine. be right there.
Ethel says:
GOOD!
Ethel says:
Are ya gona say somthin'
ButterflyLane says:
nope.
Ethel says:
MY TEA
ButterflyLane says:
okay. fine. just a sec.
This kid is a gem. I think I'll keep her- even though she came back from my mother's house sick. She's been throwing up and having diarrea all day. Poor baby. I gave her a dose of liquid Tylenol, hopefully since it's liquid it will have time to do its thing before she gets sick again. Guess she won't be going to school tomorrow- which means Daddy will get to stay home with her, because I go back to school and work tomorrow myself. Oh yeah, I went and played bingo with a friend (the one with lots of kids). We lost. It was fun, but I'd rather have had the $22. That's three paperbacks! Big ones! Oh well. Finally found new sheets. They're white with tiny purple flowers. Oshu helped pick them out. (I Oh, and another nice thing he did- we were coming home last night and I mentioned that I was thirsty. He reminded me that there was a case of bottled water in the trunk, and then pulled over and stopped so I could get a drink. We were only 20 minutes from home- if even that- so I could have waited... but he stopped anyway. What a sweetie. think know he was tired of me dragging him off to look at sheets every time we went shopping... so he picked the purple ones... which was really sweet of him, since purple is my favorite color.
I went to get a new resolution from Geekfoo, and got the same one I had last year. Weird. Oh well. We ended up going to visit some friends last night after all- they have three kids so taking ours along wasn't a problem. Well, shouldn't have been a problem, except that the little boogers didn't sleep. Ethel was still awake when we left for home at 3 this morning- and then she slept until noon. She has to go back to school Wednesday- methinks there will be a problem getting her back on schedule by then. George keeps asking how many more days until he can go back to daycare. I think he misses it.
Depressing as it may seem, I think that we've all grown up. None of us got drunk- I don't think we even drank half of the booze that was there... Oshu and I ended up bringing home half of what we took over there and leaving some there as well. There was a time when we'd all have been way too drunk to crawl to the car, let alone drive home at 3am. We were supposed to go to my mil's house, but since Oshu had to work we told her we couldn't come, and then went somewhere else when he got off work. (I'd be in sooo much trouble if she knew that.) And my lips are chapped from the half-bag of salty pretzels I ate while we played Virtua-Job.
Okay, I've sat here long enough. Time to go do some laundry and mop up the jelly Ethel smeared everywhere while making me toast. The kid has a genius IQ and no common sense at all. Sigh.
