One Million Dollars

Did you think I disappeared? Evaporated off of the planet, perhaps? Nope. At least not yet anyway. I've just been in a bit of writing funk. The kind of funk that meant I had zero interest in committing word to paper or--uh--screen. It happens sometimes.

But fear not my friends. My funkiliciousness has not kept us from keeping ourselves busy. See for yourself.

We've been running.

And shopping.

 And resting.

Oh, and playing dress up of course.

And there was that trip to the doctor today for annual check ups. I know you're all just dying to know the stats, so here you go:


                            Chase                                       Amaya

Age:                           4                                                2
Height:                  37.5"                                            36"
Weight:                 34 lb                                          35.5 lb

So yea, the 2 year old is a pound and a half heavier than the 4 year old. The doctor even said that looking at the stats, she'd think they were twins. Which didn't surprise me at all since I often hear what beautiful twins I have when we're out in public.

In other groundbreaking news, this guy:

has 20/20 vision, hears just fine, and is not color blind. That means he can be a pilot. Clear the skies! Well, if you can get him to take off his leisure suit that is.

What have I been doing? Well, I found myself kidnapped one morning by a band of masked miscreants driving this tank. 

Before I knew what was happening, I was smack in the middle of this madness--

forced to take orders from this lunatic.

In exchange for my freedom, I had to promise to take pictures for the gym's Facebook page. Apparently, super villains are not known for carrying around cameras.  I really hope the rogue appreciates my Girl Scout-worthy preparedness. And also that she quickly realizes that attempting to coerce me by employing painful torture techniques is not an ideal way to get me to comply to her demands. Chocolate works much better with far less effort to boot. A peaceful Snickers exchange doesn't have quite the same devilish panache though, does it?  I certainly wouldn't want her to be laughed out of  her Dr. Evil support group or anything. In that case, might I suggest a nice ransom note instead.

And the results are in

Yesterday, I met with the allergist to go over Chase's latest blood work. Perhaps you remember when he had that done? 

While his numbers did decline, he still has a Class IV allergy to peanuts and almonds. Peas are a Class III. In very simplistic terms,  the difference between the two is that IVs have a greater chance of having an anaphylactic reaction whereas IIIs are more of the vomit all over everything and get a rash variety. The doctor did say that 20% of kids end up outgrowing the peanut allergy, so we'll continue testing to see if he'll be one of the lucky ones. Fingers crossed.

He's got a handful of Class II allergies as well, but those aren't a major concern as the risk of anaphylaxis is minimal. In order of IgE levels those foods are: pistachio, cashew, soybean (which he eats), safflower, hazelnut, Brazil nut and pine nut.  I have to remember next time I give him edamame to check his mouth for a rash though most of the soy that he eats is in highly processed foods which breaks the protein down to a level he's been able to tolerate.

He tested negative for macadamia, pecan, walnut and sunflower seed. Which means I guess I'll have to share my pecan pie with him if he asks. But I don't think he will because he still won't touch green beans no matter how many times I tell him he isn't actually allergic to them. My guess is that he's been so ingrained in the "no nuts" mentality that there's no way the kid is ever going to go near one. That's fine. More pie for me.

The pictures are from Joshua's birthday party this weekend. I know how twitchy you all get when I have a post without visual aids.

They tooka his blood Drew, they tooka his blood!

Chase had to have blood drawn yesterday so that we could see if he's still allergic to nuts and peas. Poor little guy had to give up 4 tubes--4! I'm grateful it was Drew that got to take him for that little adventure.  If you couldn't tell from the picture, let me just inform you now that he was not at all happy about the ordeal.

He insisted on trading his short-short sleeved shirt for one that would cover his band aid which is why he's shirtless in these pictures. I guess he thought if he couldn't see the evidence, it would be like it never happened? The above two pictures were taken right after he returned home. Please note the way he's holding his right arm as that pose will become important in subsequent shots.

This picture was taken about an hour later:

And this one after his nap which was about 5 hours after his blood was taken:

Finally, this one was taken after dinner--a full 8 hours after he was stuck:

Does that boy know how to milk an injury or what? Frankly, I don't know where he learned such a thing.

iPhone Photo Dump

Today I had to go to the doctor and sit there calmly while a nurse stole away an entire tube of my blood in order to test my TSH levels. I have to get this done at least every six months, more often if my numbers start getting all wonky, so it really doesn't bother me anymore. Well, truthfully it's never bothered me as long as I don't have to actually watch as my life force flows out of me. But don't tell Drew that I'm all honky dory with the whole process because I like to milk my blood-giving days for all they're worth. This is why as soon as he walks in the door, I hold up my violated arm and wail, "They tooka my blood Drew, they tooka my blood!" It's tradition.

Anyway, while I was waiting in the office to be called back, I downloaded the Photogene App for my iPhone. It's pretty cool cause it lets you do all kinds of fun things to your photos. See:

Pretty snazzy eh? Then there's this one:

I love the little masking tape corners. Since I was acting like a teenager taking a picture of my outfit, I might as well decorate the photo like I'm one, too. This was what I wore to have lunch with Patricia. I love this dress--Liberty of London for Target. $29.99. Perfect for my teenage budget. Swoon.

That was all I could get done before I was called back to be stuck with a needle, so the rest of the pictures are just ordinary snapshots of random events that have happened since my last photo dump. And I do mean random: Grandpa, Drew and the kids heading into Santa Fe for instance.

Or Amaya showing off her pretty dress that her friend Allie gave her.

We've got one Brian Scott fan proudly sporting his between-the-eyes injury from falling down the deck steps,

and another Big Spot racing supporter who was extremely upset that the race was postponed. I believe she's in the process of demanding a refund here.

And last but not least, we have one morning wake up call brought to you by the four-legged alarm clock.

Rise and Shine!

Show Us Those Pearly Whites

Chase had his first trip to see the dentist this morning. Since I had the pleasure of taking Amaya to the doctor the last 4 times she went, I allowed Drew the privilege of escorting Chase to his appointment today. Feel free to place a gold star next to my name in the shares well column.

Upon returning home, Chase proudly announced that he "didn't have many cavities." which is his way of saying he didn't have any. It's good to know that those daily, monotonous reminders to go "up and down and back and forth" rather than just chewing on the toothbrush have been paying off.





The adventure of getting his teeth cleaned was on Magoo's mind all day. During Rudolph when Hermie was getting reamed by his supervisor for fixing doll's teeth, Chase loudly exclaimed, "I went to the dentist today!" At dinner, he gave his father an oral exam telling him to lie back like he was sleeping, open wide and say ahhh. Then he counted Daddy's teeth proclaiming that there were 8 in total. I hope his glee at all things tooth care related continues through his teens and into adulthood. More than that, I hope that he and his sister both got their father's teeth. Drew's chompers are the kind that only get flossed during the twice yearly in office cleanings yet the dentist is constantly remarking on how well cared for they are. As opposed to my flossed daily teeth that still earn reproachful looks from the dentist followed by lectures on the importance of proper oral hygiene. But I'm not bitter about that or anything. If you need me I'll be upstairs flossing as I mutter under my breath about the unfairness of life.

I know, I know

but I have an excuse. No, really a good one this time. I'm exhausted. Seriously. That's what the doctor told me when I finally went to see her on Monday to find out why I'm so tired and get nauseous 50 times a day. And no, I'm definitely not pregnant, bite your tongue. The swine apparently can make you completely useless for up to a month after you have it, crazy right?

But please know that the my blog is not the only thing that I've abandoned--my house is a mess, my kids don't remember a time when Mama played with them instead of just sitting around all day, and my NaNoWriMo has been a NoGo. It stresses me out to watch all of these things falling apart, which of course only makes it harder for my body to recover. Vicious cycle. So anyway, if the time frame is accurate, then I have another two weeks of feeling that walking up the stairs is like climbing Everest. So since odds are looking like it could be another week before my next post, I'll leave you with these cute pictures from the Imagination Movers concert we went to on Sunday. Both kids had a great time shaking their groove things. The highlight had to be when when they got high fives from Rich--or as Chase calls him "Wrench". Good times.



Aunt Danielle made Chase his rockin Mover's shirt--I think he'd like to be buried in it.


I'm not sure what happened here with this picture, but it makes me nauseous to look at it. For real. Equilibrium is all jacked up. Darn exhaustion.

It all depends on how you define well

As most of you know, I've been feeling a little under the weather the past few days. I think it was the flu, but seeing as I refuse to visit the doctor unless someone physically drags my sorry behind there, I can't really state that diagnosis as fact.

Whatever it was came on suddenly Wednesday with body aches, chills and head pain. And extreme fatigue. Like didn't want to walk from the chair to the couch fatigue. This continued through Thursday. On Friday, I woke up with a super painful sore throat and a horrible cough, but the body aches were gone and I had fewer chills. I also got very dizzy when I tried to stand up. Saturday, the throat was better, but I was still coughing and only had half a voice. Sunday I pretty much had just the cough still no voice. Which brings us to today--less cough, less chills, still half a voice. Still physically tired--I can walk up the stairs now, but I have to stop at the top to catch my breath.

Concerned citizens have been asking whether I'm well yet. I'm not sure if their concern is for me or if they're wondering if it's safe to come near me yet. Regardless, I don't really have an answer for you. It all depends on what you consider to be well.

• If your definition of well means that my cough sounds like I'm only a chain smoker instead of a chain smoker who also happens to be infected with tuberculosis, then yes, I'm well.

• If your definition of well means that I only use 50 tissues a day instead of 100, then yes I'm well.
  

• If your definition of well would include someone who forgets to put the detergent in the washer before starting a load of germ infested sheets, then yes I'm well.
  

• If your definition of well would include someone who buries herself in her snuggie on a 74 degree day and still feels cold, then yes, I'm well.
  

• Finally, if your definition of a well person would include someone who read the directions 4 times and still ended up with this for dinner:

then yes, I'm well.


So there you go. Well or not, I have pictures from the grandparents' visit this weekend that I hope to share tomorrow. Until then just imagine me wrapped in my snuggie, eating my matzo ball soup and sucking on my cough drops. A vision of health.

No Swine Here

Mr. Magoo is still not quite himself. I can always tell when he's feeling under the weather because he'll actually sleep during nap time. I guess yesterday the exhaustion caught up with him rather quickly because he didn't even have the energy to take off his Smitty hat let alone make it to his bed before conking out.


It seems that my son might think that I need to have a bit more excitement in my life. That's the only reasonable explanation I can come up with for why he sent his Mama's heart into a flutter by deciding that he needed to take another ride in an ambulance .

The story goes like this: Wednesday night Monkey woke up screaming. Drew gave him Tylenol and everyone went back to sleep. In the morning, he was breathing hard, lethargic and coughing so we scheduled an early appointment with the doctor. When Drew got him to the office, Magoo suddenly began having an asthma-like attack where he was grunting and breathing so hard that his ribs were showing and his neck muscles and tendons were prominent. His O2 was at 87%. He gave everyone in the office quite a scare, so they called in the ambulance to take him to the ER.

My poor little monkey looked so sick when I met them at the hospital. His eyes were dull with dark circles under them and he didn't even fight the mask they put on his face. I watched as his stomach went up and down heaving with the effort to breathe. His breaths were shallow and far faster than normal. He was quickly given a series of treatments, some steroids, a chest X-ray and some other diagnostic tests. An hour later, he'd perked up and was back to his lady killing ways chatting up the doctors and nurses like they'd been friends forever. I didn't think it was possible to be happy about hearing his endless list of demands, but after seeing him barely able to speak it was a blessing to be able to get him his juice, a movie, some cars stickers, Lightening McQueen, Scruffy, his blanket, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Please note though that this blissful approach to meeting his every desire has since passed. Didn't take long at all.

All of his tests came back negative--no pneumonia, no swine flu, no RSV, no strep. We were left with no definitive explanation for what brought on the attack. It might have been allergies, a viral infection or it might be asthma. Frustrating to not know the answer, but what can you do?

On Friday, I took him back to the office for his follow up visit. All of the nurses, techs and even the doctor that saw him the day before came into the exam room to say how happy they were to see him doing so well. The doctor even had to lift up his shirt to confirm for herself that he was breathing better. It was quite touching to see their concern.

He still is breathing a little hard and his energy isn't quite up to par, but he's on the mend. We'll continue his Albuterol and steroid treatments and hope to never encounter this breathing difficulty again. We've been lucky this past year with Chase since this is the first time he's been really sick since last winter. That's not an open invitation though, so Mr. Swine, you can continue to stay away. Because despite Chase's stated desire to return to the "Hopspital", my heart has had enough of a thrill thank you anyway.

What is it about holidays and sick kids?

Aside from that one major illness at Hanukkah/Christmas, my offspring have been fairly healthy this year. Before you tell me to knock on wood, let me just tell you: it's too late. Amaya is sick. She started getting snotty and congested last Thursday. Perhaps you remember my post about it? Andy took her to the doctor Friday and was told it was just a cold. But, almost a full week later, the girl still didn't seem to be getting any better. In fact, she was becoming cranky and even more needy. I am not exaggerating even a little when I say that she shrieked until her face turned bright red and her eyes popped out if I tried to sit her down the floor right next to me instead of on my lap. Have you ever tried to balance a 20lb squiggling weight in the crook of your dominate arm while using your free, but drastically less adept hand to empty and then reload the dishwasher? Let's just say that it was not a fun time to be the mama.

Then yesterday, I woke up with a sore throat, and suddenly a bunch of bells and lights started going off in my head. I just knew that Amaya had gotten strep, and the pediatrician confirmed my diagnosis. A quick look at the calender shows that this illness comes right before Passover Seder and Easter Sunday. Do you think she planned it that way?

Since she was still contagious last night, Amaya and I had to miss the Easter egg hunt at Allie's house. This totally bummed me out, but what could I do? I had already possibly exposed the entire group with the sugar cookies I made for the kids to decorate, so it didn't really seem very nice of me to take the little infected infant over there to breathe on them all, too. So that meant that Chase and Daddy went without us, and from the looks of the pictures it would seem that they didn't even notice our absence. Bah Bunnybug.



Here is Chase showing zero concern over the fact that he may have just ingested a strep laced sugar cookie. I would like it known that I provided full disclosure of the possible contamination, so any sickness attributed to consumption of said cookies is in no way my fault. Any questions regarding this matter can be directed to my personal assistant. Good luck reaching her--I've heard it's difficult getting imaginary people on the line.


I, according to the CVS Minute Clinic, do not have strep. I do have a sore throat, occasional fever and swollen lymph nodes on top of the normal runny nose, itchy eyes, headache and cough of allergies. But none of this--not my aches, not my daughter's germ infested body, nothing short of a plague will keep me from eating my weight in Matzo Brittle tomorrow night. So Gran, I hope you've made plenty.

Even when miserable

due to having a terrible cold complete with an endless runny nose & dried snot all over her face,



Amaya still has the strength and desire to unleash a killer smile.


Don't even try to resist...

Day Two: Christmas Eve

I think that Amaya is finely starting to kick this RSV goop's butt. Her stats stayed at 94 during a brief oxygen tent free nap this morning. We're still waiting to see the doctor to find out if we get to go home sometime today or if we'll be spending Christmas at the hospital. Cross your fingers for us--and if you have a direct line to the big guy in red, we'd appreciate it if you would see if he has any miracles up his sleeve to get us home for Christmas.

Hospital baby

Amaya is doing better today. While she is awake, her oxygen levels are around 96/97 which is good, but she still needs the tent when she's asleep because he levels drop to the low nineties. We'll be here at least through the rest of today and possibly tonight as well. She is such a happy baby though. Everyone always comments on how beautiful her eyes, smile and name are. I'm sure they say that to everyone, but that doesn't make it any less true, now does it? Little bug never fusses for the nurses or even puts up too many complaints about being trapped in this room all day. Of course the room that we are in is very nice--it's in a brand new wing of the hospital and has two tvs, a futon, two footstools, three chairs, a desk and a dvd/playstation 3 setup. They even brought me breakfast. If it weren't for all of the beeping and the wires attached to Amaya, I might think I was in a swank hotel or something. Now if only someone would show me to the pool...

Here's the little monkey kicking up a storm last night. Apparently the steroids and nebulizer treatments can make a baby hyper.

Sickies the Sequel

Now this one is stuffy and sick.



Hanukkah starts on Sunday night and Christmas is less than a week away-what do you suppose the chances of illness free holidays are? Wait. Don't answer that. I prefer to live in a constant state of denial.

We're on the mend

Chase has been quite ill the last few days. I've never seen the kid so lethargic--even when he had those endless ear aches, the strep, the vomiting from food allergies, or the surgery recovery from the tubes. Seriously, all he did on Tuesday and Wednesday was lay on the couch with his blanket, take 3-4 hour long naps, and put himself to bed at 6pm. He didn't eat or play at all those two days. What possible disease could have caused such listlessness you may be wondering. The common cold apparently. I didn't believe the doctor, so I made her run a strep test anyway--but it was negative. So, I guess she was right. Blows my mind that a simple cold could knock him on his bahootie like that, but I guess it did.



Today, he's feeling better. I heard him banging around in his room this morning, so that was a good sign. I sent him to school, and haven't gotten a phone call yet, so I assume that he's doing well. Anyway,the picture above is of him playing at the discovery museum where Nate's birthday party was held last weekend. There were also cute pictures taken of Chase, Nate and Amaya, but I can't include them because someone whose name rhymes with Cavid hasn't sent me those pictures nor the ones from Thanksgiving. I'll be sending the lynching mob to his house any day now.

Observations from the ER waiting room

In my last post, I forgot to mention that we were in the Wood visiting my parents. That is why I had to go to the ER to be treated, and also why I had to return to the ER two days later for my recheck. I'm sure when I go to my OB on Monday, she's going to tear a strip off of me for traveling so soon after major abdominal surgery, but I'll deal with that when the time comes. Anyway, back to the tale of my follow up visit to Ruby's ER...
I arrived at the hospital at 2 pm. I knew that I was going to be there for a while when I noticed that the triage nurse had a stack of sign in sheets half an inch thick. I filled out my own paper, slipped it under the window and found the comfiest, most isolated seat in the waiting room. I hate sitting next to strangers--especially those visiting an ER on a Tuesday afternoon. In the 4.5 hours that I sat in the waiting room I observed the following things:

• Half of the people waiting reeked of alcohol. It is possible that they self-medicated themselves on the way to the hospital to alleviate their pain and suffering. It is also possible that I can win $35 Million playing power ball this week.
  

• Pregnant women having contractions and violent, mentally handicapped patients are the first to be seen. "Patients" who are there to attempt to get out of work may never get seen.

• A high school boy's main purpose in life is to always "be cool". For instance, if said teen happens to get a phone call while he's waiting to be called back to the ER, the conversation might go something like this:
  

What up Dave?
Dave answers
Yea can you tell coach I won't make it to practice tonight?
Dave speaks, I assume he asks why not.
Well, I cut my thumb off today. ( said very nonchalantly)
Dave responds--also being a teen boy he probably said "that's cool"
Yea tell coach I should be there tomorrow. Later.

• There are a lot of creepy men in an ER waiting room. If one of them tells you to smile more because someone so beautiful should always be smiling--try to refrain from hitting him over the head with the novel that you smartly remembered to bring along. It's best to give a half smile and move away--preferably toward the security guard.
  

• When after 4.5 hours of waiting with a pounding caffeine withdrawal headache, you are finally called back to be examined, you get very excited and feel almost like you did win that $35 million. When the nurse tells you that triage neglected to mention that you were a recheck and that you should have been seen hours ago--that overjoyed feeling quickly dissipates. When the doctor comes in two minutes later and tells you that your incision shows signs of healing and to keep doing what you're doing, a semi-happy feeling returns. It might be happier if you hadn't just spent a good portion of your day waiting for what resulted in a 10 minute exam, and you still have to ride in the car for an hour just to get home. When you can't get in that car until your husband arrives 15 minutes later, you are slightly inconvenienced as smile guy now has you cornered outside the ER telling you his life story while you frantically look for an escape. When your husband buys his starving wife a Hardee's Hot Ham n Cheese and large Diet Coke, the world is once again a happy place.
  

Double Infections

Ugh. So yea. Remember me complaining about how this recovery was not going quite as smoothly as it had with Chase. Well, that would be because my incision is infected. But that's not all, oh no. I also have another UTI--most likely from the catheter that I had in the hospital. We spent all night last night in two different ERs, and now I have two different antibiotics and orders to drink 3-4 quarts of liquid a day--that's a lot of water dude. Double ugh. I am just ready to be be better now, please. So before I start feeling too sorry for my hormonal self, let's all look at a picture of the little bundle of joy that brought me all this pain. I suppose the little lady is worth it--as long as I don't have to change too many poopy diapers. :-)

No Peas for You!

I want you to know that what you are about to read is most likely the last pre-Amaya post of this blog since she is scheduled to make her appearance into this world on Thursday. As the arrival of a new baby is sure to drastically cut into Chase's adult attention supply, I thought I'd use this final post before his sister's arrival to share a few of my recent Noodle observations.

The little dude is at this moment upstairs taking a nap that includes actual sleeping. That last little phrase there referring to sleep during a nap might seem like over kill, but it is actually necessary to specify whether any actual dream time was logged. This is because for the last couple of months, Noodle only actually sleeps about half of the days that he's put into his room for a little siesta. The other days, he'd rather spend his hour and a half running amuck around his room pulling books off the shelf and diapers out of the drawer. Oh and he also has a thing for taking all of the wipes out of the box and spreading them around the room in an intricate pattern that to him looks like art, but to Mama looks like one giant mess.


Speaking of books, while he does still occasionally peruse them during his rest time, he has devoted more energy to something else that he discovered was also in his room: toys. Mainly cars, trucks and trains although on occasion a puzzle or electronic item makes the cut. He'll dump out the entire basket onto the floor and play and play and play until either: A) mom comes in to tell him rest time is over or B) he gets so exhausted that he falls asleep right on the floor in the middle of the 15 car pile up. This usually only occurs during his naps, but just last night found him curled up on the carpet hibernating amongst his stash of survival necessities. When Drew went in to put him in his bed, Monkey fluttered his little eyes and said, "Ok" before quickly falling back into his comatose state.


Ok...that's his new catch phrase. Everything is now, "OK". I'm not complaining as it is definitely better than the "No" stage we just went through. His agreeableness is kind of cute. Picture this: I'm lying on the sofa rubbing my enormous belly. I spy Chase across the room and ask him, "Do you want to come rub Mommy's feet Chase?" "OK," he quickly replies as he comes running over to where I am. Dream like, eh? Except that Chase translates Rub Mommy's Feet into Try to Bite All of Her Toes Off. I'm still working on that part.

Biting will in a round about way bring us to the end of today's entry. You may be wondering about the title of this post. Here's the scoop. We spent the morning at the allergist's office today to find out if the little guy was allergic to peas. Peas were suspect as the last couple of times he had them he proceeded to projectile vomit them right back up. Thankfully, this spewage happened at school, so I didn't have to deal with the clean up. The doctor looked at me a little funny when I told her my suspicions of the evilness of the round legume as it is apparently a rare allergy to have. But she humored us anyway and preformed a scratch test on the little guy. And by golly, the kid is in fact allergic to peas. Never question the Mama people, never.

Monkey doesn't know how lucky he is to never be forced to eat smooshy peas--and that's not even all. Because those pesky legumes tend to cross react, we've been instructed to avoid all manner of bean like material--no limas, no string, no green. The kid leads a charmed life I tell ya.

Pink eye!

As if we don't already have enough going on in this house. Poor kid has had goop running from his eyes and the corner is all red. Ick. I get so grossed out by eye things. Crossing my fingers that it gets better quickly, and that I don't get it.