The Conundrum

(You will learn in this blog that Charlie can speak. His voice sounds much like Anthony Hopkins character in Legends of the Fall after he has a stroke. Much like the scene where he says, "Screw em!" repeatedly. This knowledge will enhance your experience while reading this post.)

For whatever reason, Charlie - sweet Charlie, insists on chewing his nylabones on top of our metal heat vents. That is when he's not gallivanting through the house with them in his mouth, dropping them with a big bang-clank everywhere he goes.

The following is what can happen with such risky behavior. Let this be a warning to nylabone-loving dogs everywhere:

Oh, my....however did this happen???

A close-up of the casualty. And no, that's not a combination of dust and dog hair in my vent. How dare you even think it.

Desperate and running out of options, Charlie calls Mabel in for help. After this picture was taken, Mabel shook her head and walked away.


"Whud aw we gonna dooooo mom?" (Charlie can't pronounce "T's" or "R's" very well)

In a stunning show of intelligence, Charlie opts for the larger nylabone model, but is quickly drawn back to the small one in it's precarious position.

"I'm towwy (sorry) widdle (little) nywabone!" (Okay, Charlie has trouble with most letters of the alphabet.)

Inconsolable....

*Danny and I both tried to wrench the nylabone out of the vent with no success. As of now, it remains in peril.*

Paid in full

There's a joke amongst medical students that we're all so far in debt with student loans that the only thing we can afford to be is doctors. Sadly true, unless one were to run off to LA and become the "triple threat" like J. Lo. I don't foresee this happening anytime in my future because I'm really only a single threat. I can't sing or act, but I'd like to think that I can dance. But my sad, flabby little postpartum belly is something that should not be wiggled about. At least for now. How did I go from talking about student loans to my midsection? Redirecting.....

Anyhow, although we've been blessed by wonderful families who give us everything and anything they can to make our lives easier, it's rough sometimes to get by on a teacher's salary, especially now with Miss Louisa. We just bit the bullet and got a new-to-us '01 Camry (with a little help from my grandma....okay, a lot of help. Thanks GG!) The civic was starting to feel a little small and rickety and it is quickly approaching 200,000 miles. It was decided by all that Louisa needed a safer car. Forget about Louisa's parents. We are chopped liver. It's all about the baby.

We found a great car with pretty low mileage, but it had a little damage to the left rear panel that needed to be fixed before it started to rust. The guy we bought the car from had an estimate from a body shop for about $700.00.

After we bought the car, we took it to a collision center which is owned by some dear friends. We frequented their business all too often when we owned "Black Betsy," an '05 Corolla that was cursed by the devil and destined for mutilation. We sold her after her 5th wreck in 2 years, none of which were our fault.

My parents were going to pay to have a keyless entry device installed in our new car for a Christmas present, so the car spent a few days getting un-dented, re-painted and keyless-entry-ed. Danny and I went to pick up the car last week, fully prepared to pay for all of the services....it was a good investment, after all. We picked up the keys as the owner walked by.

Us: Car looks great! How much do we owe you?

Him: Um....well....nothin'. Been paid in full.

Danny: (bends over to pick jaw up off of the ground. He's tall....it hit pretty hard.)

Me: (thinking to myself "don't cry, don't cry, don't cry!")

Us: (after Danny's mandible had been reattached to the rest of his face) No, really...we need to pay you.

Him: Nope. Merry Christmas.

Wow! They always give us a deal and do fantastic work for us, but this was completely unexpected. And it wasn't done for any recognition or praise, just a great guy helping out some crazy kids who are trying to make ends meet. After several hugs and handshakes, we left the shop and headed home. Danny took the Camry and I climbed back into the civic to run some errands. Well, to go to Target. It beckons me.

While I was driving to Target, his words kept replaying in my head....paid in full. (don't cry!) He didn't have to do that! (okay you big baby, no tears!) I was still dumbfounded, humbled and elated all at the same time. And I couldn't help but think about someone else who paid our debt in full. Someone who, a few thousand years ago was born into this weary world to bring hope, healing, restoration. Who taught us how to live, how to love and how to give. He was ultimately crucified, but rose again and offers forgiveness and life eternal to those who love Him....for free. He takes our dented up hearts, makes them whole again and says, "Paid in full."

So during this Christmas season, I am thankful for our wonderful families who give so much of their time and resources, I am thankful for a warm home, plenty of food to eat, a new-to-us car and the generous man who fixed it up and in doing so (whether he realized it or not), gave us a little glimpse of the love that our Heavenly Father has for us.

I hope you all had a blessed Christmas this year!

I will now step down off of my little pulpit and retire for the evening :)

Another Friday at the Bartlett's

On a normal Friday night, we would go out and party hard into the wee hours of the morning. Actually that's a lie. We did that in college. Okay, that's a lie too. We're lame and have always been lame. I'm planning on a hard core midlife crisis someday.

Tonight was a nice Friday evening. It started out by getting our church on - Danny likes to watch the live web casts from a church in St. Joseph. So we did church on the couch with coffee and a jabbering/sleeping/eating baby. Then I snuck off to take a bath while Louisa was watching her "Your Baby Can Read" DVD. If they made a "Your Baby Can MCAT" we would probably own it. Yeah, she's 4 months old....what of it?

My bath was fantastic. I really needed it, and not just because I needed the relaxation of a hot bubble bath with a glass of wine (thanks Chris & LeAnn!), but I actually hadn't bathed in a while and was really starting to smell like rotting cheese. How is it that a baby can drink milk and then spit up cottage cheese? I'll never know. Anyway, my bath was so great, with my favorite candles and new bath gel.....and after my first glass of wine I barely noticed the hairball laying on the side of the tub. And the mold growing around the caulking.

I got out of my bath and Louisa started fussing a little bit in the other room. Oops! I guess mommy can't help you. Would hate to damage your cute little liver. Daddy!!! So I went upstairs to change and Charlie followed me. I got my jammies on and then hopped in bed with one of my favorite guys....the smelly/hairy one (Charlie ~ I realize that wasn't so obvious). We snuggled for a bit and he rubbed his slimy little snout all over the pillows. (My mom is cringing right now.) He got his belly scratched, his chin rubbed and lots of smooches. If everyone in the world had a one-eyed pirate dog, the world would be a better place! I might need a second bath now though.

We came down stairs and Danny was putting Weezy to sleep. She has recently learned to roll from her back to her front and likes to practice doing so at every opportunity. The only problem is that she can't roll to her back from her front and she really despises tummy time. So we'll roll her back over and pretty much immediately she'll roll back onto her tummy.....and resume the face-planted screaming. This is a prime example that just because you CAN do something doesn't mean that you SHOULD.

Speaking of examples.....last weekend I was cleaning the house (and I use the word "cleaning" very loosely) and spent a great deal of time painstakingly cleaning the salt and pepper shakers. As I was doing so, I realized that I was really missing the forest for the trees. But boy did those salt and pepper shakers look GOOD!

Okay, my Friday night is coming to an end. Danny just kissed me and went to bed. I should probably head that way myself.

I hope you all have a wonderful weekend! If you get the chance, take a nice, hot bubble bath and smooch a shaggy dog!

PRMCE

In the grand tradition of entrance exams (MCAT, LSAT, GRE), I propose that the Price is Right institute a minimum competency exam, the PRMCE. This test would be administered to any potential audience members before being allowed to enter the studio. Questions would be similar to those listed below:

1) Put the following numbers in order of smallest to largest:
1 100 10 10,000 1,000

2) If Carlos spins the wheel and gets an 85, and on your first spin you get a 45.....
a) should you spin again?
b) what do you need to spin to tie Carlos?
c) what do you need to beat Carlos?
d) If you spin higher than a ____ you will have gone over.

3) Which of the following options is the correct way to say the following number: 11,267
a) One hundred eleven thousand two hundred and sixty-seven
b) One thousand two hundred and sixty-seven
c) Eleven thousand two hundred and sixty-seven
d) Eleven
c) Eleven point two, six, seven

4) Fifteen thousand nine hundred and ninety nine corresponds with which of the following numbers?
a) 14, 999
b) 115,999
c) 1,599
d) 15,999

5) If someone bids $500.00 on an item and you think that the item is less than $500.00, it is a good idea to bid $499.00.

True/False

6) Have you shopped at a grocery store in the past year?

7) Have you seen a Ford Focus commercial in the past year?

8) If the wheel has to go around one entire time, how many times does the wheel have to go around?
a) 1/2
b) 3/4
c) 15/16
d) 1



I know I'm a bit of a hard a$$, but I think that a perfect score should be required for entrance to the Price is Right.

If anyone knows Drew Carey, would you be kind enough to pass this on to him?

Left Out

I don't know how she did it, but Mabel Jane figured out that I blogged about Charlie and didn't mention her. Oops! Feelings have been hurt. Big sad Basset eyes are in full effect.

Here are a few pics of my little Mabel Jane to make her feel better....

Crazy Lady!

Starved for affection, Mabel attempts to sabotage my study time.

Mabel would like you to think that she's classy and only plays with the highest quality toys.

This picture proves otherwise.

Hitting the bottle on New Years. You should have seen her doing keg stands! Talent.


The next day....

A favorite past time. I was afraid she might take flight with those ears!

Please rub my belly.....please please please. Please somebody....just love me!

Clearly she is very neglected. Hardly gets any attention.


Poor thing.

CHARLIE!!!

If I were a betting woman, I would put money on Louisa's first word being Charlie. Not because he's cute and cuddly and is quickly becoming Louisa's buddy, but because we say his name 50 bajillion times a day.

Most of the time, his name is used in phrases like:

Charlie, get DOWN!

Charlie, stop that!

Charlie, drop the pacifier!

Charlie, stop chewing that!

Charlie, what are you doing!?!?

Charlie, NO!

Come here Charlie....NOW!

For the love of Pete, Charlie!!!

Charlie, don't lick the baby's face!

Charlie.....Charlie.....CHARLIE!!!!

Despite his orneriness, we sure do love that little feller! The following is a list of the things that he has eaten/destroyed in the past few months:

numerous pacifiers

numerous nursing pads

one nursing bra (sorry Julie)

2 pairs of my underwear

one pair of baby socks

the tassles off of two of Louisa's stocking caps (hand made by GiGi) (What kind of tassles did you think I was talking about?)

3 hair bows

too many pieces of paper to count

Louisa's commemorative birth certificate from the hospital (just one corner)

one sleeper

2 burp cloths

one shoe

one rattle

one stuffed rabbit

one bib

And, my personal favorite, Louisa's immunization record. He was kind enough to throw that one back up :)

I'm sure I'm leaving several items out, but I think you get the picture. Regardless, he's our sweet little one-eyed pirate boy/wiggle butt and we wouldn't trade him for the world.

So don't be surprised when Louisa's first word isn't Mama or Dada, but CHARLIE!!!!

Red Suit

I tend to gravitate toward the color red for important life events. I wore a sequined red gown for Danny and my first prom, a red suit for my med school interview, the same red suit for my Pop's funeral, and yesterday I bought a new red suit for my residency interviews - Red Suit 2.0, if you will. I would have worn red suit 1.0, but for some reason (read: recent birth of child, can't stop eating corn bread cake slathered in honey butter) the skirt is a little snug. I did try on a black and white skirt/jacket combo for my interviews, but the combination of shoulder pads and a shiny pleather belt didn't really scream "PROFESSIONAL!"

So, about the interviews. If you've spent much time in an academic medical center during the fall/winter months, you've probably seen herds of people, all dressed in black, walking purposefully through the hospital. You probably wondered where the funeral was, but these people were actually 4th year medical students interviewing for residency positions. I guess you could call intern year the funeral???? These people can be distinguished from similarly fashioned pharmaceutical reps, because on average, the drug reps are way more blond, thin and big boosmed. Oh, and they have the little rolley suitcase things full of pens and other fun toys that they use to entice unsuspecting doctors to prescribe their drugs. Anyhow, my interview at KU is Friday. From what I understand, it should be pretty laid back, and unlike med school interviews, this time, the program is trying to impress the interviewee, instead of the other way around. So, I expect all to go well, barring any unforeseen, spontaneous leakage of milk from the breasts.....canNOT forget the boob pads!

Okay, so that's all I've got for now. Going to try to be better about blogging over the next few weeks. But before I go, a random thought: Pizza seems much less fattening when it is cold because the grease has solidified....and thus....seems much less greasy.

Nostalgia

Last weekend Danny and I attended my 10 year high school reunion. The combination of the football game, the drum line and chatting with old friends got me feeling a little nostalgic. And now, a look back at some highlights from my senior year.

Cheering for the SMN Indians (mostly the quarterback :)

Homecoming assembly

I think this was the homecoming dance....

Very lady-like. That Amy is such a bad influence :)

Best party of the year! The Time Warp Dance!

Cheering for the basketball team (Amy, Amanda, Nancy, Lisa and me)

It has recently come to my attention that the cheerleaders no longer do the Funky Chicken. What a shame!

Spring Court assembly with Erica

With Dave - so coordinated!

Enough of the cheerleading - playing ball with Mer and Christy

Prom '99

Danny doing my dad's hair....must have turned out okay.

Graduation (obviously)

Post graduation party - good friends

SMN class of 1999

10 years and one Louisa later............

Still in love with my Danny. So glad we never listened to the people who told us that we were too young, or that we'd never last. HA!!! What's up now!?!?

An ill-conceived idea

Okay....my 10 year high school reunion is coming up. In FIVE days! I'm super excited, but a little disappointed that I won't exactly be looking like a super-model when I see all of my old friends. What is it about reunions that bring out the vanity in people? Oh well.

So, in a last ditch effort to lose the last 15lbs of baby weight, and be as super-modelish as I possibly can be, (Okay, so petite super-modelish. Is there even such a thing? Petite/plus size? I digress) I decided to go jogging today. Sounds totally benign, right? Little jog around the neighborhood....

Mistake #1: Mabel sees me putting on my tennis shoes. She KNOWS what that means and proceeds to work herself up into a full fledged TIZZY. She started barking and whimpering and was threatening to wake up a sleeping Weezy, so I put her in her kennel (Mabel, not Weezy). Then Charlie was standing there looking at me with his one, sad little eye, just beckoning me to take him with me. Here is my dilemma - take Charlie, who is standing by the door looking all together pathetic, or take Mabel, who is the instigator of all buffoonery around our house. The one who could use a good walk to get rid of some of her energy.

Mistake #2: I walked past Mabel's kennel to get Charlie's leash. Ooooh, she was none too pleased. Now I'm feeling super-guilty so I let Mabel out. This was the point of no return, their excitement at the prospect of taking a walk had reached fever pitch.

Mistake #3: At this point I should have just given the dogs treats to appease them, but instead I put their leashes on them and headed out the door. But not before asking Danny to say a little prayer that all 3 of us would make it home in one piece.

The dogs were horrendous on our walk! It's my own fault for not walking them regularly, yes Caesar Milan....exercise, discipline and then affection....I know, I know. I tried all of the dog-whispering tricks that I could think of, but ultimately, my dogs know that I am a piss-poor pack leader and they walked all over me. And by walking all over me, I mean pulling me down the street, this way and that, Mabel going one way and Charlie going the other. One would stop to chew on an acorn while the other took off after a squirrel. I felt like Mel Gibson at the end of Braveheart when they tied him up by his arms and legs and stretched him in different directions. I'm really surprised that they didn't strangle themselves, the way they were pulling on the leashes. All I heared the entire way was HEEEH HEEEEH HUUUUUH HUUUUH (choking....) HEEEEH HEEEEEH (slobber flying, more choking...).

I finally made it home, with both dogs in tow. I guess the walk was a success in the sense that I didn't lose either of the dogs and I managed to keep my shoulders from dislocating. I dropped them off with their father, and feeling like I really accomplished nothing, I headed back out for a little jog.....REUNION PEOPLE!!! I made it further than I thought I would and probably burned all of 20 calories before I got home, popped a nitro, took an aspirin and put my O2 mask on.

Maybe I'll try again tomorrow, sans the dogs.

I was not in a car wreck....

When I was in 8th grade, I fractured the bone right above my left eye. It swelled shut, turned purple and looked all together gruesome. People would stop and ask me what happened. I told a few people that I'd been in a fight and that they should see the other girl. What really happened was a collision on the basketball court, but that's just not very exciting. He He He...I remember going to the mall with Rachel and chasing her around acting like Sloth from The Goonies. That's kind of what I looked like. And she's still my friend....

So now I wish I had some awesome story to explain why I've been wearing a neck brace for the past few days. Like I survived some horrific car crash or got a little whiplash while bungee jumping or some such thing. But no. Nope, I seem to have incurred a Louisa-related injury. Apparently my cervical spine doesn't appreciate being bent forward looking at the little peanut all the time. On Wednesday my upper back was a little sore and by Thursday afternoon I could barely move. It's a good thing my dad is a chiropractor. And it's a good thing he makes house calls, well, for me anyhow. And that's probably only because he knew he'd get to see Louisa. Yes, I use her to manipulate my parents. I have no shame.

After a little traction (during which I thought my dad might pull my head off), an ice pack and the neck brace, I'm feeling much better. I think I'm ready to take the brace off. There goes the sympathy from strangers. Oh well. It made my face look fat.

The breast pump

My breast pump speaks to me. At first I thought it was the percocet, but I haven't taken any for at least 3 weeks and the breast pump continues to speak to me. Usually it offers words of encouragement while I'm pumping (which is appreciated), sometimes it just mumbles, and other times it speaks french.

More inappropriate comments from randoms

5 days after Louisa was born, we went to the pediatrician for a check up. Danny was carrying Louisa in her car seat and I waddled in after them. Keep in mind I'm still HUGE (as discussed earlier....and my butt is still itching). Oh yes, and Louisa is small, as most newborn babies are. There was a woman sitting next to us in the waiting room with a child who looked to be about 8 months old. As we walked past her, she looked at me and said, "Oh, you're going to have two close together!"

Me: "Eh?"

Lady: "Two babies...that one is pretty young."

Me: "She's 5 days old."

(silence - my eyes glow yellow - flames shoot from my nostrils)

I realize that people are inherently dumb, but this was the last place I expected to encounter such brazen and unabashed stupidity. This lady had a baby too! She was still a little chubby, so I'm guessing she looked a bit pregnant after her baby was born as well. Maybe she honest-to-goodness thought that there was still a baby in my belly that was just incubating a bit longer. I don't know. As Ron White says, "You can't fix stupid."

....continued

Where was I? Fentanyl, c-section, Louisa screams.... ah yes. So Louisa Grace Bartlett was born on August 17th at 7:50 pm and weighed 7lbs 7oz and was 18.5 in long. I don't remember a whole lot about what happened after I heard Louisa scream for the first time. I think I let myself relax after that. The thing I do remember is the horrible pain I was feeling in.... my shoulder???? Yes, after 20 hours of labor and finally a c-section, the only pain I'm feeling is in my shoulder. Dang phrenic nerve! Okay, I probably shouldn't slander the phrenic nerve since it's pretty important for, oh, breathing, and thus, life, but seriously....PAIN! I asked the nurse anesthetist for something to ease the pain, after all, this was the guy administering the fentanyl. And what did he give me? A hot pack. Thanks dude.

At this point, Dr. S is working on my uterus and tells Danny that he should get a picture. Awesome!!! No, seriously, I think it's AWESOME that I have a picture of my uterus and even more awesome that Danny was cool with taking a picture of his wife's innards. Then Dr. S closes me up using some new staple gun that they had in the OR. I probably would have done a running subcuticular, but that would have taken forever (especially if it was me doing it - picture a little old man, hunched over, painstakingly painting a model car under a magnifying glass - this is me suturing - but my incisions are pretty, by golly!).

The next thing I remember is being in the little recovery room, shaking because of the drugs. Then they brought Louisa in to me and I think I cried a little. Then my dad gets all teary as he takes out a little blue box from Tiffany's and hands it to.....my mom???? For real? Where's my box from Tiffany's? I did all the work and gave him his first grandchild! Cotton-pickin'! It's cool though, I'm over it. And my mom got a lovely "Grandma" charm for her charm bracelet. After that lots of family and friends came in to see us and hold Louisa. Louisa was bright eyed and was checking everybody out.

Then they wheeled me to my room, which was a double room, so Danny got his own bed to sleep in. The next few days were kind of a blur. Lots of family and friends visiting. I got to order my breakfast, lunch and dinner from a handy-dandy menu on the TV. Emily brought me an orange cream slush! I was a bad patient and didn't really get out of bed except to go to the bathroom. The nurse made fun of me because I put my TED hose on backwards. I developed the itchiest, most awful rash EVER on my tush. This may have been the most horrifying part of the whole experience. And not only did my tush have a rash on it, but my tush was HUGE, so there was lots of tush to itch. And the rest of me was huge too. Thank you IV fluids. I thought surely I'd loose a couple of pounds, you know, having a baby and all, but I was fatter leaving the hospital than when I came in. Feet and ankles were unrecognizable. Demoralizing!

Then we came home. Loading Louisa up in the car and driving on THE STREET with OTHER CARS was FRIGHTENING! But we made it home in one piece and settled in quite nicely. The dogs were very excited to finally meet their little sister. I was able to wean myself from the percocet pretty quickly, mostly because I wanted to have extra to sell on the street (call me if your interested - I may have some xanax too - I kid, I kid).

As soon as Louisa was born, Danny turned into Super-Dad. He's been changing diapers, doing house work, charting Louisa's feedings, poopy diapers and wet diapers, assembling breast pumps and loving on his girls....ah, we are blessed! He also really enjoys brushing Louisa's hair, which is the most adorable thing ever.

Welp, I think that covers most of the highlights from the birthing extravaganza. I have a few stories about my nurses, but I'll save those for later. And I have another "inappropriate comment" story, but I'll get to that later as well.

Ah, it has been too long. There are a ton of things that I have been meaning to do for the past 3 weeks (including writing thank you notes - so if you gave us something and have not been properly thanked....I'm working on it). It's amazing how the maintenance of a newborn can take up nearly every minute of the day (and night). I decided that it is high time I updated the old blog though.

So....in recent weeks, I had a baby.

We checked into SMMC on a Sunday night and shortly after they placed the cervidil. Okay - cervidil worked a little too well and I started having contractions. They told me I might have some cramping, but Lord Almighty!!! Then Louisa had a prolonged heart rate deceleration and all of a sudden 4 nurses came busting in our room, made me get on my hands and knees (to relieve any pressure that might be on the cord) and shot me up with some terbutaline. I didn't even have time to freak out about the needle. This is when I lost all inhibition and stopped stessing about Danny seeing me in less than glamourous positions.

After that, they removed the cervidil and Louisa's HR came back up and looked good. Then they started me on low dose Pit to finish dilating my cervix. Things quieted down quickly, but I had a feeling that Louisa would not be coming out the old fashioned way. The rest of the night was uneventful and in the morning they turned up the Pit and I started having contractions again. Lord Almighty!!! Call anesthesia STAT!!! [Side note: what I thought was pain from Louisa stretching out during the last 2 months of my pregnancy turned out to be Braxton Hicks contractions - glad I didn't know I was having contractions during my 9 hour board exam.]

I requested some Stadol before I asked for the epidural. This was a good idea and I would highly recommend it if you're as freaked out as I am around needles. What? Doctors have to use needles? Ahem.... So the Stadol put me into a quasi-drunken state and I was able to be a big girl and get my epidural. Hardly felt it. When the catheter was placed, it somehow ended up toward the left of my spinal cord, so I had to lay on my right side to make sure that my right pelvis/leg got the drugs. Regardless of this small snafu, I am completely in love with fentanyl and the doctors/nurses who give it...legally, of course.

Where was I....stadol....fentanyl....oh yes. So I got the epidural and things progressed nicely. I was completely effaced and I dilated to 9.5 really quickly with just a lip of cervix remaining. Danny, my parents, Grandma French Fry, Carmen, Rachel and Julie were all in the room and we started making bets about what time Louisa would be born, length, weight, etc. Most of the guesses called for her to be born between 3:30 and 4:45. Har har har.

We kicked everyone out of the room and I started pushing around 3:00. After about 30 minutes of pushing we hadn't made any progress and Louisa's head was in an unfavorable position. I pushed for a while longer to no avail. I always envisioned myself pushing 2-3 times and popping out a baby. I also always thought about how much it would suck to be in labor and pushing all day, only to end up having a c-section. Har har har. Okay, so after a while it was determined that I needed a break (Danny said I turned purple every time I pushed). They had me lay on my left side to try to get her head to turn. Okay, too much fentanyl on the left, NOT ENOUGH ON THE RIGHT!!! 30 minute break - Danny feeding me ice chips - me day dreaming about an orange cream slush from Sonic. Dr. S rechecks Louisa's head position. No big change. Dr. S reaches in and manages to turn her head to a more favorable position. Sweet! Resume the pushing! After pushing for another hour or so Louisa started having late decels (this is a bad sign for baby). And she still wasn't moving any closer to the outside world. I was so relieved when Dr. S said I would need a c-section. They wheeled me into the OR and gave me more fentanyl! Delicious! They took Danny somewhere and got him all dressed up in a white spacesuit. He looked pretty hot in it, but this was neither the time nor place for romance.

Dr. S scrubs in, we make small talk, then she says, "can you feel this?" Although I couldn't feel it, I knew what she was doing and it made me squirm....well, not really since I couldn't move my body, but if my motor neurons weren't comatose, I would have squirmed! What she was doing, I'd seen far too many times before (and squirmed every time)! She had a pair of sharp clampy tweezery things and was pinching and jerking around the skin on my abdomen. (Squirming)

To be continued (Louisa awakens).......

Nevermind....Danny's on top of it!

So, surgery ensues, then I hear a pinch of panic in Dr. S's voice. I think Louisa was further into the birth canal than she had expected and she had to work to get her out. Dr. S gets her out rather quickly....no crying. Nurses take Louisa....no crying. Dr. S orders nurses to get oxygen on Louisa right away....no crying. Mom is starting to panic. Finally CRYING!

To be continued....for real this time....baby girl needs her mommy!

Louisa

FB is blocked at the hospital, so I'll just put some pictures here for now. Several (thousand) to follow at a later time :)

Leaving the house....just the 2 of us

I finally get to stop pushing. The OR was the best part!

Oh look, it's my uterus. How'd that picture get on here?!?!

Sweet Louisa Grace!

Family picture. Danny looks pretty hot!

The Boulder....

Danny was carrying some laundry downstairs for me and I was following close behind him, he suddenly turned, looked at me, and the look in his eyes reminded me of this....

http://indianajones.lego.com/en-US/movies/RealMovie_Boulder.aspx

More inappropriateness from random strangers

Today I decided that the nursery was not quite decorated enough. I wanted to go down to the Rivermarket Antique Mall, but decided to go to Mission Road Antique mall instead. We need a few more things on the walls, but we really need to wait until we get our rocker back from the upholstery place (ah, that's a whole different soap opera - sans Luis Lopez Fitzgerald) so we can see what looks best where. So I was wandering around the Antique Mall and found a couple of fun things. I didn't buy anything, but I got some ideas. I found a super-old copy of Jo's Boys by Louisa May Alcott. It was a really pretty book, so I might have to go back and get it. More so for decoration than anything. The previous owner had written in the front cover in the 1960's, but I think the book itself was from the 20's.

So, back to my original story, which I never really started....ahem....

I was wandering through the mall and there was a guy sitting in a chair looking at some antique stuff....I think....I mean, we were in an antique mall, after all.

Guy looks up as I walk by, eyes almost pop out of his head as he sees my belly....

Guy: Twins?

Me: Nope, just one.

Guy: OUCH!!!

Me: (chokes on spit)

Seriously? "OUCH?" At best this was a lame attempt at empathy, at worst a sinister way of messing with my fragile mind, causing me to dwell, for the rest of the day, on the "OUCH" that is the inevitable end to the last 9 months, making me rethink my choice to procreate in the first place. Evil man.

In a redeeming turn for mankind, I ran into some super-sweet ladies at the victorian shop next to Mission Road Antique Mall. At first, I was annoyed with them because they were clearly staring at my belly, but then they started asking (appropriate) questions about the baby and were sincerely thrilled for me. The lady working at the store even got a little teary-eyed. Okay, kind of weird, but still sweet.

And I'm not actually rethinking the choice to procreate, I'm just really going to need some combination of an opioid and local anesthesia. And I won't grope the anesthesiologist.....Rachel!

The goings on of....me

Since my life is so gosh-darned exciting, I thought I'd update on what's been going on around here the past few days.

Last Friday: Took step 2 CK (9 hour computer test) aka "boards." It went about as well as you could expect a 9 hour test to go. The chair was comfortable, which was pretty much all I cared about. Louisa kicked the crap out of me for the majority of the test. I choose to think she was just being sweet and trying to keep me awake rather than trying to pester, distract and injure me. I should have my results in 6 weeks.

Monday: OB visit. Still at 1cm, but "a little softer." My cervix is lame....kick it into gear!!!

Tuesday: Went to Don Chilito's with Rachel, Julie, Carmen and Eva. Had a regular combination burrito, red sauce, no lettuce. Based on the Don Chilito's Economic Outlook Forecast things are looking up. They are no longer charging for individual honey packets. The recession, however, isn't totally over, and it won't be until they put the honey back out for the patrons to use up willey-nilley, next to the sopapillas instead under the watchful eye of the cashier.

After dinner, the girls came over and helped me get the nursery situated. They made good suggestions, moved some furniture, reassured me that I would, in fact, be okay. They told me what to pack to go to the hospital. Apparently cute socks are important to have in case my feet are cold while I'm pushing (or to spare Dr. S from my uber-stinky feet). And I need to have cute pj's for after Louisa is born as well as cute outfits for Louisa to have her picture taken in. Child birth is as much about looking good as it is about bringing a new life into the world :)

Eva, who is 19 months old, entertained (actually, terrorized) Charlie for a while. I was super proud of my little one-eyed pirate boy. He let her grab at him, try to ride him and steal his nylabone right out of his mouth! He's going to be a good brudder! Mabel, on the other hand, was completely belligerent and was banished to the backyard. I really can't blame her for acting out. She knows things are changing around here.

Today: I had a super-important meeting with a super-important person (SIP) set up for 11:00. I showed up in SIP's secretary's office (who had scheduled this appointment yesterday), and she informed me that SIP had been out all week sick. She made NO attempt to contact me this morning to let me know that SIP would not be available. Then she asked me if I wanted to reschedule for Friday. When I pointed to my belly and informed her that Friday would be a little too close to D-Day, she looked surprised. Um....hello lady, even skinny 17 year old check out girl at HyVee could see how close I am to popping out a kid! Ugh. It was a completely frustrating experience. Mostly because I had to find a parking spot at SIP's place of work, which was a 10 minute waddle to the door. Then I had another 10 minute waddle once I was inside. AND she scheduled the COTTON-PICKING appointment YESTERDAY AFTERNOON!!!

I'm over it!

So then Danny and I took both cars, both bases and the car seat to our friendly Roeland Park Police station to have our bases installed. Turns out that we are missing a very important piece of hardware for the seat that attaches to the seat belts and helps to lock them into place. There was some seat belt feature that came about in 1999, which made the hardware unnecessary, but since we drive pre-Britney Spears Era vehicles, we need the goods. Put that on the list of things to do tomorrow.

Currently: Cleaning ladies have taken over my house. They have been here since 1:00 and it's like 6:39 now. My house is not much bigger than a doll house, so I don't know what it says about my house keeping abilities (or lack thereof) that they have been cleaning my house for almost 6 hours. My mom said it took 4 hours to clean her house, which is probably 3 times as big as mine. Also, what are you supposed to do when there are people in your house cleaning? It's just kind of awkward. I feel like I should be entertaining them somehow... or apologizing to them. "Um....so sorry about that dust there on the mirror! Oh, and that unidentified goo on the floor in the kitchen. Oh, yeah, we kill spiders and leave them on the walls....don't people do that with deer and fish? What, you didn't think it would take 6 hours to clean my teeny, tiny house.....so sorry!"

UPDATE: Cleaning ladies just left. They didn't look thrilled with me. Infact, they looked a little disappointed. They said that they tried their best to clean my house, but I really should consider having them back every 2 weeks. I realize that this would be in their best interest to make money, but I'm pretty sure they were concerned for the welfare of my unborn child and dead serious that I really do NEED THEM! They were muttering something in a different language as they walked out the door. I can only imagine. Hmmmm. Mom?

Okay. My dogs have been cooped up in their kennels all day - being perfect angels, I might add, so I'm going to go entertain them. Outside. So we don't make a mess of my spotless house.

Thank you, skinny 17 year old check out girl at HyVee

Well, we've already established that I'm super-duper pregnant. No more need to point that out, right? Wrong, apparently. Last week I was at the HyVee in Shawnee (so not as cool as the HyVee in Mission - I think there might be a little Indian vs Cougar involved in that opinion - I digress), and this super skinny, 17yr old-looking check out girl was all "ooh, when are you due?" and I was all "2 more weeks." And she was all " 'Cause you look like you're about to pop!!!"

What do you say to that?
a) Thank you
b) I know
c) ***cries a little***
d) Climb fat, pregnant arse over the register reaching for skinny girls neck yelling profanities while my poor, helpless husband tries to restrain me

I'll let you decide.

Today, so far....

I have 4 days before taking Step 2 CK on Friday. So this means that I have to study, study, study until then! I got up early (well, a little early) and studied for a few hours before my 37 week OB visit. After my appointment, at which my blood pressure was 102/65 (this will be relevant later), I went to Sonic and got an Orange Cream Slush. Then I went to my daddy's office and got my back cracked....ah, wonderful. Then I came home and fixed myself some angel hair pasta and added extra salt.....because I was almost HYPOTENSIVE earlier. Okay, I probably built up the blood pressure thing a little too much earlier, but I just felt compelled to justify my massive salt consumption....ahem. Then I tried to figure out how to return something to overstock.com. The website was not cooperating, so I had to initiate an online chat, during which "Brynn" and I had a small debate over the color implied by the name "linen." I, being of the school of thought that "linen" is a creamy off-white color, "Brynn" thinking that it was a light brown. Regardless, the curtains that came in the mail were gold, and I didn't want no stinking gold curtains. So off they go, back to the land of overstock.com.....to be overstocked once more.

Okay, that's it. Now I really have to study.

Love

Boy do I love these furry little kids.....

Of Bathrooms and Bladders

Either Panera needs a sharps container or people need to stop shooting up in their bathroom. This is what I saw all three times I visited the potty today....in a 2 hour span of time.







Dear Louisa,



Thank you for trying to rupture my bladder on several occasions today. I admire your strength and determination, but please......stop.



Love,

Yo Mama