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Letter to My Son on the Eve of His First Birthday

Letter to My Son on the Eve of His First Birthday

Elliott,

Tomorrow, you will officially turn one year old. You and I had planned on taking a trip to Texas to visit your Nana, Papa and other members of my family to celebrate your birthday. Unfortunately, you got very sick, Nana has been sick and it was going to be 110* in the area so we had to cancel the trip. It’s going to be just you and me for your birthday.

It’s funny, because as I’m writing this, a friend of your father’s and mine is having a baby in the same hospital where you were born one year ago tomorrow. We don’t know if she’s having a boy or a girl, but we’re very excited. It’s been on my mind a lot – how much this past year with you has changed our little family. Continue Reading →

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Mommy Misdiagnosis

Mommy Misdiagnosis

When Elliott woke up three times last night feeling warm – I gave him some Tylenol. No coughing, sneezing, running nose, vomiting, diarrhea and was still playing, talking, eating and drinking with a temp of 100.7 – I figure it’s just a teething fever, right?

Wrong. By 2:30, when I took him to have the pediatrician say, “Yes, that’s a teething fever, he can go to day care.,” he was a roasted 103.7. Clearly not a low grade fever. But other than being a little less rough an tumble – we still don’t know what the problem is.

The one upside to today? He laid on my office papasan with a blanket on his lap. He would pull it over his face, wait, then yank it back down while string straight at me. It took a few turns before I could smell what the rock was cooking. “Peekaboo, woman!! Ask me where I am, then proclaim, ‘There he is!’”

So we played. He led the game and I shouted along. It was neat to see him acting things out, even if he was sick as a dog.

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Do I Know You?

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I know. I know. I am the worst blogger, ever. How bad am I? I wrote a blog post 2.5 months ago that started off talking about how long it had been since I updated the blog. AND I NEVER GOT AROUND TO POSTING IT. That’s bad. That’s really bad. That’s like, drinking the sun tea you found in a college dorm room bad.

I have plenty of excuses. None of them are any good.

“Wah, I have a baby!” Who, by the way, is hilarious. He loves to laugh, will do things to entertain us, enjoys splashing around in his bathtub, grabbing my hair and jewelry, singing, bouncing and wrestling. His love of flair and physicality make me wonder if he’s going to be a Broadway star or a professional wrestler. Honestly? I could see either right now.

“Wah, I’m tired!”  Derp. Join the club. Your baby, for the most part, sleeps from 10p.m. -7 a.m. (when he’s not sick or traveling) and has for the past few months.

“Wah, I’m on a diet!” That’s so novel, I just hit my face on the monitor.

But there have been other things that have popped up that have complicated the blogging.

Going back to work has been nice, and difficult. Forensics isn’t known for being family friendly. There aren’t a ton of full-time coaches with young children – even fewer of whom are mothers to young children. It’s tough navigating a very specialized job when there aren’t a lot of role models to follow.

If you’ve followed me on Twitter, then you know about my mother’s cancer diagnosis. She was initially diagnosed with Stage II breast cancer in mid-March. I went to Dallas to be with my family for the lumpectomy. Shortly after, we found out that there were more infected lymph nodes and she was reclassified as Stage III. With two great aunts who died of breast cancer, a grandmother who had an elective double mastectomy and my mom – I’ve grown far more nervous.

I’m struggling with my own plumbing, as it were. On Monday, I went in for a pap smear and the doctor couldn’t find the IUD. After a silent ultrasound (which is scary as all get out when they can’t find your birth control), she informs me that, Yes, the IUD is still in there, No, there isn’t a rogue baby hiding in there (you never know), and, Oh Yeah, you have a huge ovarian cyst. GUH. I’m supposed to wait it out and go back in 6 weeks for another ultrasound.

Now, I’ve forgiven my OBGYN for A LOT. Despite all of the horrible complications, the times where I wondered if it was luck or negligence that effectively ruined the first six weeks of motherhood, the fact that she would soon joke, “Well, with YOUR luck…ha ha,” when everything continued to go wrong – I tried to be understanding. But when I sat in her office after the silent ultrasound and saw the giant boxes of Twilight-themed Valentines candy displayed next to her diplomas, while I was nerve wracked over what was going on, that I finally said “Enough.”

In the meantime, I’m going to try to be better about updating the blog. Funny, happy posts about Elliott being a frozen yogurt addict and laughing maniacally while he scoots around in his hula coupe. Yeah. That’s the ticket.

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Date Day and Night

Date Day and Night

If you’ve arrived here via Facebook, you probably already know that my parents gave Corey and I a night off from parenting. In reality, being a parent – much like Walmart or Batman – means never taking a night off. Our parenting is just taking a shift off.

Boy howdy – have we made the most of it thus far. Allow me to recount thus far:

2:15 p.m. – Arrive in Fort Worth after a jaunty little skip down I-30. We locate the hotel, but since we didn’t plan to check in til 4, we headed down to The Flying Saucer in Sundance Square. We munched on a plate of peppered salami, Gouda, smoked cheddar, olive tapenade, apple slices and almonds and had some frosty pints to wash it down.

3:30 – Walk around the square a bit, contemplating dinner. We decided that whatever it would be – it would be as indulgent as a Hilton sister. The top two contenders were Brazilian steak and Simply Fondue.

4:10 – Check-in. We marvel at the wide open marble lobby and roaring fireplace at the Omni. Fun fact – we never had to wait for an elevator, they popped open as soon as we pressed the button. Luxury, my friends. Luxury.

4:15 – Get in room. Perched on the 11th floor, we have huge mirrors, leather couches, a half bathroom, separate living and sleeping areas, down comforters, freestanding bath, dimmer switches on lamps (so much nicer than the aggressively bright, semi-flicker then illuminate lamps at most budget places) and a 5-head glass shower. The package my parents booked included: two personal bottles of bubbly, chocolate dipped strawberries, “romantic turn-down service” (robes and a rose on the edge of the bed), breakfast in bed and late check out. Luxury, my friends.

We relax in the hotel for a bit – then contemplate dinner more. We realize that Simply Fondue has a 4 course, bottomless fondue couple’s special for that night. Done. We make the reservation online.

7:00 – We walk down to the restaurant.

7:30 – We sit down to eat. The four courses include:

Salad-
I had the Greek, Corey had the Gorgonzola Greens.

Cheese Fondue –
We had the Wisconsin Sharp Cheddar with bread and raw veggies.

Meats -
We each chose three and they were served with veggies and a bajillion sauces.
Corey tried the Jerk chicken, teriyaki sirloin, bacon-wrapped tenderloin while I had coconut shrimp, salmon and honey-almond chicken.

Chocolate -
We played it safe with the milk chocolate and dipped cherries, pineapples, bananas, strawberries, pirouette cookies, rice krispies, angel food cake and brownies.

9:30 – We walk off the food coma. Corey gets a vanilla creme at Starbucks and we return to the hotel.

11:00 – 7:30 – Sweet, uninterrupted sleep for 8.5 hours. LUXURY.

8:50 – Breakfast is delivered. Eggs, bacon, hashbrown potatoes, toast/croissants, orange juice, water, coffee, mimosas and the tiniest bottles of Tabasco, ketchup and jellies on Earth.

9:43 – I finish this post and nap for 10 minutes before getting in the shower.

When we arrived yesterday, the desk clerk handed Corey an envelope with his name on it. I joked that it was a ransom note – that the whole night was a ruse for my parents to kidnap Elliott. After all this decadence, if it were, we would be in a very low-speed chase. In reality, it was just a note explaining the details of the package.

Every year, my mom likes to ask me what my favorite Christmas was. New baby and some quality time with the hubs? We may have a winner.

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Sick Day

Sick Day

Elliott was ordered to stay home and out of daycare til our Friday check-up. So, Corey and I are taking turns on who gets to stay home. Today is my day. We spent a little time on our tummy after reading all the alarmist articles about decreased motor skills, lowered IQ, and cranial flattening. Good times.

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Articles

Sick

Pretty much sums up this morning.

Sick = Unwell; poor health; Elliott’s deep chest cough that has kept him up all night.

Sick = Gross; nasty; the fountain of vomit said coughing caused all over myself, Corey, our bed and the bedroom floor. It’s just recycled formula, thank God he’s not on solids, yet.

Sick = In conjunction with tired, frustrated; put out; how I felt when I kept getting the Graves-Gilbert receptionist who said the Pediatrician’s office wasn’t open. “Is this an emergency?” Nah, I just wanted to call and hear how his holiday shopping is going.

So I’m blogging to kill time before can take him to his 9:30 appointment. Bless his heart – for being so sick, he still tries to smile.

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The Cake-less Anniversaries

To understand why this holiday season is so significant for me – I have to let you in on some information.

Elliott is my first child. He was not my first pregnancy. Continue Reading →

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