Happy Halloween and Christmas apparently.
The Son on Halloween, 2006, he was two-months old, and just the sweetest little monkey ever.
H was a pretty cute little lion himself. Look at that banana. The Son can inhale one that size in under a minute flat now.
Halloween, 2007, Mama took the easy route costume wise and had a little help from PBK. Do you think this spider has two extra legs?
A certain grandparent did not like this costume, she wanted him to be a clown or something instead. “Babies should not be spiders.”
He hated the hat last year. He took it off and threw it on the ground while trick or treating for UNICEF, and we never found it.
Halloween, 2008–about six hours ago. Go back and look at the lion/monkey picture, and then check out these two non-baby boys.
“I see you! Mama! I see you wiff ‘noculers!”
First we got his picture taken at a local drugstore (I’ll post those soon), then we went to a Halloween party, and then trick or treating. Did I mention that we had gone with our Stay Home Moms playgroup this morning to trick or treat at a retirement home? In other words, we have been having fun ALL FRIGGEN DAY LONG.
My parent’s neighborhood is THE place to go trick or treating in our town. Here is The Son, trick or treating my mom, and then inviting all the other kids to come inside.
The Husband wanted to watch FOX News, so my dad went trick or treating with The Son and I instead. He is who picked out The Son’s costume this year, I think he did a darn good job.
Can you tell what this is? CHRISTMAS LIGHTS!
And who was handing out candy to the kids? Santa! Sorry for the poor quality of pictures, but I was trying to be stealthy.
In a week or so his whole yard will be covered in those blow up yard ornament things. I really do not like those things. Anyway, Happy Halloween! Tomorrow is Arbor Day (it is not really Arbor day after all, but we are going to a tree festival. All the candy corn has rotted my brain), there is no candy for Arbor Day right? We have enough candy.
Filed under Uncategorized | Comments (3)If you are a Democrat, now is the time to close your eyes.
Let them eat cake.
Today I found out that the world’s best cake lady, Stacey, has been reading TheHuckablog! She has done almost every cake we have needed for the past three years or so, and does the best work I have EVER seen. I can’t link to her site because it would be like not only telling what town we live in, but handing you a map. So if you think you live in my area and you want her info, email me and I will give it to you. Er, I did not ask her before just posting that, so if she is all like “Whaa? I do not want to be bombarded with cake requests from Hey You’s readers!” I will not give you her contact information.
Here are a couple of my favorite cakes she has done for me. The first is for my SIL’s trashy lingerie shower, and the second is from The Son’s baptism. Now, that is range people.
We had The Son’s 2nd birthday party today, and I did not take a single picture. Other people did though, so as soon as I collect them from other people’s cameras I will post them. Stacey made The Son a Poky Little Puppy cake, and it is my favorite cake she has ever done for us. A large portion of cake was eaten at the party, but we still had a good chunk to bring home. I cut some for BIL, and for MMIL and FFIL to take to their various abodes, and left the rest sitting on our bar. The Son asked for some at 8:30, right before bed, so of course I said no. We were all sitting around talking before people went home, and we hear a thud from the kitchen. That little monkey reached up and pulled the cake off of the bar. It was face down on the floor, and he was grabbing handfuls of cake and shoving them in his face. Good thing we all had our fill at the party.
The following site is quite possibly one of the funniest sites on the internet, and that is saying something, because I have seen a lot of funny crap on the internet people. Cake Wrecks is a must read. I insist you go to this site and look at every single picture. Remember how you thought this was funny? Yeah, that, only better. Today my stomach is sore because Shoeshe and I laughed so hard last night while looking at the site. My favorite is the High Heel/High Hill cake. Oh, and the fireman! No, it has to be the Braveheart cake. Oh, and the bride! Never mind. The whole site is awesome. Stacey, you will never have to worry about seeing one of your cakes here.
Filed under Uncategorized | Comments OffThe Birth Rewind
By popular request, Time Warp Week continues. Fine by me, nothing very interesting is going on around here this week anyway. Today we get The Son’s birth…not day, but two weeks! A note: this is kinda graphic, so if you are squeamish, you might want to go somewhere else today.
August 17th 2006:
7pm: BIL and SIL returned from their Honeymoon in Honduras and brought with them recipes. We go over to their apartment for Honduran food and a swim, contractions start in the pool.
9pm: Start timing contractions while watching Project Runway. They are seven minutes apart, and are definitely not Braxton Hicks. Also? The designers on PR are all apparently on acid.
10Pm: Contractions are less severe and move to 15 minutes apart. Damn.
August 20th:
7pm: Contractions start again and are five minutes apart. We go to hospital. While contractions are still five minutes apart and spiking around 70 on monitor, I have not dilated at all. They send me home. I whine.
August 21:
7 am: When I step out of bed I fall down, baby’s head has pushed my hip socket so much I can barely walk and am in extreme pain. It is also 105 outside. Fun times.
11am: I make it to work and announce that there is no way I can do this anymore, I hate people. I hate the company. I hate talking to people about the company. HR sends me home on paid FMLA. I am glad that I did not quit for that government job.
3pm: Doctor puts me on bed rest and sets a date to induce me. August 31.
August 22-26:
I lounge about, read blogs, sleep, eat, and complain. People call every three minutes to ask if I am still pregnant.
August 27:
2am: Wake up having VERY strong contractions. Wake up Husband, They are fiveish or fourish minutes apart. Mucous plug is gone. Go to hospital.
3am: Nurse on duty announces that I am in labor, but not dilated, and that there are no “empty” rooms, gives me some sort of drug and sends me home. I cry and am convinced that baby is never coming out.
August 28:
9am: Back in hospital with strong contractions coming regularly, this time with Mom as Husband has already missed much work because of my capricious cervix. Hip socket fully pushed out of place. Still not dilated. Ultrasound shows very big baby. Doctor tells me to expect a c-section. Tells me to come on Thursday morning bright and early. Mom takes me for a pedicure, bed rest be damned. I choose a hot pink polish.
August 31:
5am: Alarm goes off, but I have been awake with contractions all night. I have been in labor for two weeks at this point and not dilated at all. Am having regrets about this whole baby thing.
6am: We drop off the dog with my parents, and head the now well traveled path to the women’s center. When we arrive we are informed that they have delivered 16 babies in the last 12 hours and have no room for inductions this morning. I cry and demand to talk to doctor. Nurse calls my OB, and finds that she had put me on the “Medical Necessity” list earlier in the week, so I am immediately given a birthing suite. I watch other fat and hormonal women get turned away and I gloat, then feel bad and compare myself to a rude Bethlehem inn keeper. (side note: 40 weeks before there was a major snow storm, and schools and businesses were all closed. 40 weeks later, our town sees the biggest baby boom in twelve years. Coincidence?)
8am: I change into hospital gown (ugly) and Husband and I have to give four generations worth of medical history to nurse. They hook me up to monitors and what do you know, I am having contractions 5 minutes apart and have not dilated at all. Is this sounding familiar? They give me Pitocin, and offer an epidural, I decline. I am either going to do this all natural or have a c-section–there will be nothing in between. Stubborn is just how I roll.
“That was a really big one. How high does that thing go?”
10am: Mom, Dad, and JHJ are at hospital keeping us company. We play Taboo, and watch just how high the intensity of my contractions have gotten. I am able to breathe through them, but no longer able to talk during them. Nurse offers epi again, I decline again.
10:30 am: I have still not dilated past 1. Doctor says there will be a Huckablog c-section at 1pm. They stop Pitocin drip, contractions are no longer as strong as they were.
12pm: Emergency C-sections have delayed my OB, my surgery moved back to two.
1pm: Nurse comes to shave my stomach. I tell her I do not have a hairy stomach, but she proceeds to shave away, and shaves much um, lower, than anticipated. (if that does not bring in new readers from Google searches nothing will)
2pm: Anesthesiologist comes in (late) to do epi. The hardest part was getting in position because of my hip and belly which is the size of a Swiss Alp. Epi does not really hurt at all (but I had also been in labor for a year and a half, so ya know, whatever).
2:15: Blood pressure starts to plummet. I mean really plummet. The Husband looks ashen, and Anesthesiologist keeps asking nurse, “How many bags did she have?” I start to panic thinking I had over packed and brought too many suitcases and what did that have to do with my baby and oooh, I am dizzy and AGG! What is going on? Turns out I should have had two full bags of fluids before epi and I had not had any. I panic (a recurring theme), Husband calms me down.
2:20pm: I am totally numb from chest down, and for some reason my nipples feel like they are on fire. I keep saying, “But my boobs hurt!” Nurse thinks I am crazy. I complain louder. Anesthesiologist says “whoops.” Redoes something that I cannot see at my back and boobs no longer feel like they are going to fly off of my chest. Blood pressure is still very, very low. They contemplate giving me some drug or another but decide to “wait and see.” I don a shower cap. And wait. And wait. And wait.
2:45: They finally wheel me into OR. I keep asking for The Husband, and am fuh-reaked out. Doctors argue over music, I feel secondary to the whole operation. I am moved to a scary looking table and my arms are strapped down. I do not like.
3:00pm Husband is in OR wearing something Big. And Yellow. He keeps stroking my head and squeezing my hand. Nurse gives him lecture about the dangers of looking “on the other side of the curtain”. I make a joke about the wizard that no one gets.
3:10: I feel extreme pressure, and can feel doctor pulling apart what I guess were my stomach muscles. It hurts, but not crazy bad.
3:14 (Pi!): I hear slurpy noise, a gurgle, and a cry. Doctor holds The Son up, says, “He has a HUGE head, there is no way you could have delivered him!” I see him for first time and say “he looks just like The Husband!” “He looks like a The Son!” Nurse agrees that is his name. Husband cuts cord, and follows baby to get cleaned up. They wrap The Son up like a burrito and let me just brush my fingers to his velvety face for far to short of a time. Husband holds my hand for a few minutes, and then goes with baby to nursery and to inform awaiting grandparents.
That is my hand you see there on the left.
3:16: OB shows me placenta per my request. It is gross, but apparently did it’s job well. The Son weighs 8 pounds 11 ounces and is 20 inches long. I feel them massaging my uterus. It hurts. A lot.
3:25: I am losing way, way too much blood, I smell weird smell, and tell them my oxygen is bad. Nurse laughs and doctor tells me it is a normal odor. It was really them cauterizing everything in sight I was smelling. I freak out when they start talking about transfusions. I feel alone and wish The Husband or my Mom were still in the OR with me. Doctors keep scaring me with medical jargon, I start to cry, they knock me out. Not sure if it was for me or them. Probably both.
Around dinner time: (time gets blurry here because of drugs): My whole family is in my room, they are chattering and I am way out of it, but no transfusion was needed. Nurse brings in baby, I shoo out everyone but The Husband and I get to hold The Son for the first time, I unwrap him and look at all of his parts and immediately latch him on. I felt tired, scared, and oh so very happy.
That was two years ago. It is so hard to believe because I still so clearly remember all of the sounds, smells, and excitement of that day. I hope I always will.
Filed under Uncategorized | Comments (3)Safety or Paranoia?
We took a little road trip this weekend, and The Son and I were alone in theHuckablazer for a couple of hours. About fifteen miles past the middle of nowhere, I looked in the rearview mirror hoping to see my peacefully napping baby. He was not strapped in his seat! My head snaps around and he is STANDING IN THE FLOORBOARD behind me. The little monkey has figured out how to unsnap his friggin’ car seat.
When he outgrew his infant car seat a year ago we returned to Consumer Reports and the National Insurance reviews to find the safest car seat we could buy. Remember how I told you we were paranoid parents? Yeah….I was serious. Anyway, this is what had the top scores. We let The Neighbors test drive theirs (they had the same thing in gray already for H), while The Son gained that extra pound and a half. When they loved it, we went ahead a bought one as well. Doesn’t it look like he could go into space in this seat?
The Son has always loved his car seat, and with the exception of a couple of loudly memorable long trips, he just talks happily the whole way to wherever it is we are going.
Needless to say, this whole Iamnotgoingtostayhereevenifyoustrapmein! attitude is not a welcome development. I pulled over at the nearest exit (ten miles ’til Nothing), and re-strapped him in with a stern lecture and threat to Thomas the Tank Engine. Back on the road, when he was again safe, I realized five minutes earlier when my darling was not strapped into his pricey anti-worry device, my heart was in my throat, and I was seriously regretting the tapering off my meds. But, you know what? That is not a new interstate. Toddlers are certainly not a new invention, so why is it our generation needs car seats made with “head and torso safety wings”? A quick trip to Google lead me to this:
The first toddler car seat. There is not even a belt on it, it exists solely to catapult your child through the windshield. Er, let them see where they are going to avoid car sickness. If car seats have come this far in the last 60 years, imagine what my grandchildren will be riding around in. A hovering bubble maybe? What other baby products do we use of which our grandparents could never have dreamed? My Anglecare monitor, which would beep if he stopped breathing, comes to mind, as does that double barreled electric breast pump. What do you think?
Filed under The Son, Uncategorized | Comments (5)Huckablubber: week FIVE of six (plus a day)
This is gonna be quick because the screen is whirling in front of my eyes. I am thirty minutes away from taking my alloted meds and crashing. Those of you participationg in the Huckablubber contest will have until 11:59 pm cst next Sunday (7/13) to email me your total weight loss. This is the honor system, so if you lie to me, I am going to get a voodoo doll in your image, and feed it a pile of Snickers. The person with the top weight loss will get a ZUNE, and the runner up will get a $20 Subway gift card.
Time for your weekly pep talk, eh, insert inspirational talky speak here. Blah, blah, work out. Yada, Yada, don’t consume your weight in refined sugar. Good Luck. Hand me the pill bottle. Good Night.
ka thunk.
***Hey You’s head hit the keyboard when she passed out***
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Happy Anniversary CAT and TARK! (NINE?!?)
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Make sure you mention that you love to work weekends, and are never sick on your interview JHJ! (Did you get your present The Son sent you?)
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