Happy Birthday to Me!

My birthday was Friday.  Do you want to know what I got?  I got to have surgery!  Seriously.  I can't complain though, it was my choice to have it that day.  I already had the day off, the in-laws were already planning on coming to visit so I knew they'd be able to help entertain Dane, and it would give me Saturday and Sunday to recuperate before having to return to work.

The surgery was very minor.  It was for the De Quervain's tendonitis that I developed within weeks after having Dane.  It's also referred to as "mother's thumb" or "baby wrist", both dumb-sounding, albeit appropriate names.  I have had two cortisone injections that hurt like only a giant needle in the wrist can.  When begging for a third after a year and a half of dealing with this issue, my doctor convinced me that surgery was really the best option.

The biggest issue has been dealing with being a temporary "lefty" and adhering to doctor's orders.  You know, things like no taking off splint, no getting incision wet, no picking up your child.  All of these were broken in less than 48 hours.  There was just no way I wasn't going to wash my forearm for over a week.  Not.gonna.happen.

My husband nearly lost his mind over this and kept saying things like "when your wrist is permanently jacked-up and you can never pick up our son again, you'll wish you had listened."  Very dramatic.  I can't blame him though.  He's just trying to make sure I stay healthy.  In all fairness to me though, I had an allergic reaction to the dressing (crazy, right?  Not if you know me!) and tons of tiny blisters were forming under the sterile tape.  I finally went to the doctor for an early follow-up today and he confirmed that yes, I was not crazy and I was reacting to the tape.  He pulled it off and told me I didn't have to wear the brace except for while sleeping and playing with Dane and I could resume most of my daily activities.  I'm free!

I'll spare you all from the photos.  You're welcome, Jamie.  :)

Good luck, Elmo

On Friday, I wisely purchased an "emergency backup Elmo.". You know, just in case anything were to ever happen to the Elmo that Dane sleeps with every night, all would be well in our home.  Nothing has ever happened to Elmo #1, it's just something we thought would be a good idea. 

Elmo #2's tags were removed and he was placed in Dane's crib while Elmo #1 went on vacation in Dane's closet.  Elmo #2 only made it two nights before he was tragically leaked on.  The care instrctions tell me I should "spot clean only with damp cloth."  I take a wiff of Elmo.  Nope.  That's not gonna work.  Elmo #2 is going to the waterpark (aka the washing machine) and Elmo #1 is coming out of retirement early.  Elmo #2, I wish you the best of luck in the rinse cycle.  But if you come out still smelling like amonia, you're going in the trash.  Right after I go purchase Elmo #3.

Super Duper Weekend

Sorry it's been a week since I blogged.  We've been so wonderfully busy just being a family lately.  This weekend was so fantastic that it was almost surreal.  The weather has been a-maz-ing, Dane has only had one time-out all weekend, and I got to go out with the girls last night!

We played with bubbles on the back porch, had a parade through the house, sang silly songs, and went to the park.  This weekend felt like a snapshot from Parents Magazine.  This is how I envisioned parenting.  I've been in this game long enough to know that this isn't how it will always be, nor is it even typical, but I'm trying to savor these moments as the come.  Dane even handled the time change like a champ!  And oh -- the weather!! The weather was icing on the cake!

Seriously, this weather makes me so excited for our upcoming mini-vacation with BFF and her family.  We're going to Amelia Island, one of my favorite places in the whole world.  I cannot wait to see how much fun the boys are going to have running in the surf and playing in the sand together!

We're prepping to potty train Dane.  Right now, all this means is that there is a lot of pee pee/poo poo talk around my house, tiny undies washed and ready to go, and lots of research on the part of mom and dad.  Well.  Just mom.  But I'm ok with that.  Those who know me also know that I love research.  And the internet makes this oh so simple.  (How did our parents ever raise us?  I'm only partly kidding.)  We hope to start the official "no more diapers" business sometime in May.  We think it will help his sensitive and rash-prone booty to not have to go through the entire sweltering Southern summer in diapers.

Dinner with BFF and Erin (one of the fantastic girls I have met through infertility) was so great.  There is never enough time to catch up with good friends, and when all three of us had a child within 9 months of one another, it just gets harder.

I'm going to try to write at least two posts per week in the future, but I make no promises.

I hope all my Southern friends enjoyed the weather before it gets too hot!

Pinterest Strikes Again, StellaKit, and Weekend Fun

As usual, we've had a fantastic weekend.  We really enjoy running around town and playing with Dane all weekend.  Dane's getting over a raging yeast/diaper rash that's taken two trips to the pediatrician in the last week, but he finally seems to be on the mend.

We made a trip to Target, went grocery shopping, and saw the African Children's Choir.  Dane loved watching the children perform, but was not a huge fan of the "bait and switch" the church hosting the choir pulled.  We had to leave a little early to prevent a complete meltdown.  The fact that a 19 month old sat and quietly participated for almost an hour was good enough to make us proud.  We went and had pizza with Jake, Jamie, and Owen afterward and watched Dane practically inhale an appetizer plate of hummus.  Owen's on the mend from a virus so I think the boys just talked about healthcare reform the whole time.

I cleaned out and reorganized our tiny pantry.  If I wasn't aware of how necessary this was beforehand, the three opened containers of canola oil and seven (yes, seven) open varieties of bread crumbs assured me that my time was not wasted.

This weekend, I've tried three different Pinterest ideas.  Here they are:

1.  Rag Roll:  The model's finished product had me so excited.  The curls were just perfect and so sweet looking.  But I've learned my lesson;  I always try these new 'dos on the weekend.  So Friday night, I cut up an old t-shirt of Jonathan's and happily rag-rolled my head.  My result?  Straight hair for the the first 6 to 8 inches of hair, followed by giant white girl fro for the bottom 6 to 8 inches.  I had to put it up in a pony tail just to make a Target trip.  Dane was mesmerized by the poofy mess and kept saying "hair," touching mine, and then touching his and Jonathan's.  My hair just holds curl far too well for some of these styles.  Maybe I'll try rolling it dry next time.  On a weekend, of course.

2.  Lemon Blueberry Cupcakes:  I haven't actually tried one yet, but I've licked the bowl clean and the lemon-cream cheese icing is ridiculous!  And I don't even normally love cream cheese icing.  I garnished with more fresh blueberries like in the photo and they sure are pretty.  Which leads me to number 3....

3.  Thrifty Cupcake Carrier:  The re-purposed Christmas gift boxes (which have already been around the block a few times thanks to my being so cheap) was cut with an x-acto knife to hold the yummies.  It was a little difficult to make sure the holes were just the right size, but thanks to Jonathan's help, my cupcakes should be able to safely travel to dinner tonight.  Due to the fact that there is icing all over the "carrier" and it can't be washed I'll have to toss it tonight.  Jonathan said he'll buy me a real one the next time one shows up on Brad's Deals or Woot.  It feels like a frivolous item to have, and it is, but as much as I've been baking lately, it would be used frequently.

One more thing....  Do you love free stuff?  I know I do!  My friend Kati's Etsy store, StellaKit Designs, is giving away a free wipes case (also good for makeup/accessories) on Jamie's blog, Laughter Ever After.  Click here to find out how to enter!  Kati is so talented and you really don't want to miss out.

Tastes Like Chicken

I'm a blight on the pristine face of Southern Hospitality.  No really.  It's true.

This past weekend, while meal planning on Pinterest, I came across this delicious looking recipe for chicken noodle soup.  It's Paula Deen's.  I like Paula.  I admire all that she's accomplished and the few recipes I've had enough butter to try to make were very enjoyable.  I don't even mind the whole spokesperson for Type 2 Diabetes thing.  It's not exactly like she claimed to be a nutritionist.  And I don't think Ms. Deen (no offense ma'am) glamorizes the disease.  How glamorous can an overweight woman in her 60s with large gray hair be?  Fabulous, yes.  Glamorous, hardly.  She writes cookbooks and hosts cooking shows.  And I don't think many people would deny that bacon does make everything better.

Ok, back to the chicken soup.  It calls for a whole chicken, a "roaster".  I've never purchased a whole chicken and could only find a "fryer."  I sure hope that's good enough.  The bird is supposed to be cut into pieces and cooked in onions and herbs to make homemade stock for the base of the soup.  I'm not unaware of the things that make me squeamish, so I had Jonathan hack the poor thing up last night.  I thought that would be good enough.  Through a well-practiced series of maneuvers with tongs, ladles, and kitchen shears I've developed over the years, I'd never actually have to touch the raw chicken.  Check.  My little buddy has now been stewed in herbs and all I have to do is pick it clean once it cools.

I start in on the process feeling pretty proud of myself for what I am about to accomplish.  Homemade Chicken Noodle Soup.  The realization that my husband's coworkers will be jealous of his lunch swell my ego.  But only a minute into the process, the "squish" noises, goopy/stretchy boiled skin, and crunching of bones band together to chip away at my confidence, I lose it.  Completely.  There is lots of gagging and even a stupid little dance.  (You know, the one you do when a spider crawls across the bathroom floor.)  I'm sweating.  Not because the task is physically taxing, but because I am that. freaked. out.  I finish the job and wash the horrible greasy mess off my hands.

The soup is currently on the stove top.  It smells amazing but I am not sure I can eat it.  Even if it is the best chicken noodle soup recipe on the face of this earth, I will not be picking a chicken clean to make it again.  Southern women will just have to kick me out of the club if that's what it takes.

I got this. Oh, never mind.

Jamie and I got the rare opportunity to spend two hours on Sunday doing girl stuff.  She picked me up for a our date and I helped her pick out "real" makeup (as in, department store counter stuff).  We managed to hardly talk about our children at all, which is quite an accomplishment for mothers of toddlers.  But we did talk about how hard it is not to have control over your own life like before parenthood, even as your child gets easier.  I mean, Dane's pretty predictable now.  He eats really well and sleeps 11 hours straight every night.  Oh, wait.  That was last week.  Damn.

I mean, really, Dane?  I swear it's like he bugs our room and when he hears us say how well the new parenting trick we tried worked out and all the wonderful reasons (that we attribute to ourselves, of course) why our child eats such a well-rounded diet, he laughs (muahahaha) and plots to bring us down from our high horse.  It's been three days since Dane ate dinner.  It's also been three days since he slept for more than two hours at a time.  Is there a newborn in my house?  Because I can't remember feeling like I knew less about parenting since there was a three-week old living in the pack-n-play in my room.  I don't know whether to start from the basics and sleep train his grumpy little butt again or if there's a more concerning issue at the root and I need to take him to the pediatrician.  There really is nothing like having a child to remind you how little you know.

What Almost Wasn't

Tonight when Dane was letting me rock him to sleep, I thought back to the days when we found out that having a child wasn't going to be as easy as we had hoped.  See, Jonathan and I are in the minority of infertile couples in that we found out before we ever started trying to conceive that it was going to take a miracle.  We had a small suspicion, had some testing done, and what we feared was true.

In the months prior, we had picked out names (one boy name and one girl name) for our hypothetical child.  It was so much fun imaging what he or she might be like, and I (not so secretly) wished he or she would have brown eyes.  What can I say?  I am a sucker  for some brown eyes.

We were sad enough on the day we learned our test results, but a few days later, when we recalled the names we had picked out, it made it all the more real.  The names made our "child" a real person, and so the wound was fresh again.

When I was smelling Dane's hair tonight as he snored on my lap, I thought "wow, if I had only known that this  would be the child we were missing out on..."  I'm not sure I could have functioned with that grief.

We are so blessed to have been given the chance to experience infertility.  I say that in all seriousness.  I don't wish it on anyone, but infertility has brought me wonderful friends, infertility has taught me how to hope, and infertility has made me stronger.  Granted, I say this as someone who is on the other side of the fight now.  I didn't feel this way three years ago, and I don't expect everyone who goes through it (even those who are as lucky as us and have a child) to have the same opinion.  But in this moment, I'm grateful for...well, for being grateful.

And if you're wondering, yes, "Dane" was the boy name we picked out over three and a half years before he joined us!