When 'Walkers' Were Fun

In the 90's walkers were a big baby item, or so it seemed to my adolescent self. We can all remember the commercial with the baby in the walker running around (also featured on Hocus Pocus, which is why it is so easily recalled). But, are walkers really a thing anymore? I don't know. I'm sure some idiot allowed a child to walk it down the stairs and then the walker got a stigma...

I digress. I'm not really in the mood to have the walker debate. Short story is, Olive has one and she loves it.

She hasn't quite figured out the crawling thing. And, when I am cooking, she gets bored sitting in her highchair just watching me. So, Heath often puts her in the walker. She chases the dogs, tries to open cabinets and drawers, and grabs anything that she can possibly reach.

This results in me trying to unload and then reload the dishwasher, with someone trying to roll away with the empty bottom basket. I will roll her away, which only results in her running full speed into the dishwasher. Then, she starts grabbing again...

I end up using one leg to hold her at a distance while trying to load dirty dishes. I even tried distracting her with items across the room. No such luck.

That part, isn't even the biggest problem.

She rams my ankles. 

She starts at one end of the kitchen, gathers momentum, and gets 6 to 8 foot of speed....right into the back of my ankles. I don't even see it coming.

It hurts. It hurts real bad. That walker cuts right into my achilles. And, well, Olive seems oblivious.

It is the first time that I have actually said "No" to Olive.

"Olive, no-no, please."

I actually beg. "Olive, please, no."

It's like those less severe tortures...like the Chinese water torture or something.

"Okay, okay. I'll talk! Just don't hit me in the ankles again!"

The only reason I have allowed for the continuous use of this item, is that Olive loves it. She loves it so much. She runs all over. She has learned how to maneuver it really well too. I just don't know if I can take this pure joy from her. Heath has even suggested that I wear boots. I'm not sold on that one yet...

Perhaps I can find some kind of ankle protectors or braces - that I won't sweat in during the summer heat. If not, I can't promise that this thing won't find it's way to the donate pile...but, I continue to try.

The things I do for those little girls! :)

Birth Story: Part 3

This is the final installation of the three part story, that is Olive's birth. :) Nothing like 5 months later...

After the actual laboring and birthing, we get to all the oohing and awing that I did. Also, I should really discuss the pain I felt afterward as well. To be honest though, I have forgotten most of it. I waited too long and those memories are fading. They always say that it's the easiest pain to forget and "they" sure are right! Although every time I hear someone say that, I think of my Granny. She had a ten pound baby (my dad) all natural back in 1960. Then, she was bedridden for four days after. I'm sure her pain was a little harder to forget than mine...

Dad, have you thanked Granny lately? You totally should! In fact, your birthday is this Saturday. You should tell her "thank you!"

Anyway,  I will tell you that the night after Olive's birth, I was so thirsty. I hadn't drank anything in over 24 hours; I had only had one cup of ice and nothing else. Plus, I had lost a reasonable amount of blood with the surgery. I begged for something to drink and couldn't have it...darn! The next morning I scarfed down my breakfast and started drinking. But, I was way too into holding Olive and just looking at her to be overly hungry.

I have several, several, pictures like this. I apparently stared at her...a lot. But, I'm sure other mothers can attest. Seeing their face for the first time, that little miracle, is simply amazing. I couldn't get enough!

As the day went on, my blood pressure kept getting really low and they asked me to drink more water. Ugh, the irony. I was slightly annoyed. It went from "can't drink anything" to "drink more."

It was about 14 hours after surgery that I got to take off my massage "booties." Those things were amazing! I loved them. Once they were off, I got my catheter out. Uncomfortable! But, I could get up now! At first, I felt pretty good. Not too much pain. It seriously took over 24 hours before all of the spinal had worn off and I started to really feel the pain. It was worse than a vaginally delivery, for me. When my bladder would get full, I had a lot of pain on the incision. When I would go pee, then it wasn't as bad. So, I kept running to and from the restroom, or rather shuffling to and from. It sure was different than what I had experienced before. Pain in a completely different place, but still all of the gross discomfort...if you women know what I mean.

I really didn't mind though. I was completely on cloud nine. I seriously was on a high. I didn't get irritated at all and was just as happy as I could be. It was different than with Lucy. Perhaps my body has changed, or I have...something like that. The high lasted until, well, basically until I went back to work. Whomp, whomp. I won't beat that dead horse, so moving on...

Lucy came to visit and spent most of the second day with us. She loved seeing her new, baby sister.

She even held her for photos. When someone would talk to her, she would stick her fingers to her lips and tell us that her baby sister was sleeping. :) She's a great big sister!

The day we got out of the hospital, Lucy was there again. We wanted to make sure we got to experience these things as a family!


Then, it started. Olive was upset. I had to feed her before we hit the road. We sat the girls down to take this photo, and Lucy pooped her pants - more delay. They were breaking us in right away, to having two! That is alright though. Cloud nine...

I was welcomed home to this wonderful display my mom and sister put together - presents for all!

 

Oh boy, now that I've waited 5 months, this post is giving me baby fever. No way, Jose. We really would need a van then!

The rest is wonderful, laid-back, best baby in the world, knock-on-wood, history. :)

Birth Story: Part 1

September 6th - Induction day!

Following what was arguably the longest day at work ever, I said farewell to my co-workers and giddily got into our car for home. I was antsy to say the least. I just wanted to get the show on the road. I was so ready in all senses of the word. Ready to meet her. Ready for newborn cuddles. Ready to take 8 weeks off work. Ready to bend over and tie my shoes again. Ready, ready, ready.

We got home and tried to go about our usual business. Heath fed Lucy supper while I took a shower. Our bags were already packed - had been for over a week. I checked my list for last minute items to add. Phone, phone charger, makeup, etc. Check. I was ready. We took one last photo of our family of three, knowing that it would never again be the same. Life changes were happening. :)

We hopped into the car to take Lucy out to my mom's house. We were on time, for once, and were scheduled to arrive at the hospital about ten minutes before 8 pm. We said a quick goodbye to Lucy and told her that we were on our way to "go get" Olive. She was basically oblivious to the whole idea and was completely fine with us leaving her.

On the way to Sonic to pick up one last 32 ounce, iced water, my phone rang. Another woman was currently delivering a baby and they had to move me back "a few hours." The nurse told me that it might be closer to 11 pm before we were asked to come in.

I cried.

I had anticipated this moment and just wanted to be at the hospital, feeling like it was at least coming! Heath tried to make me feel better. I was just so disappointed that I would have to wait even longer. We went back to the house and thank goodness my sister came over to keep us company. It helped pass the time.

At 11 pm I called the hospital to see what was going on. The nurse told me to go ahead and come on in. I was ready and about to fall asleep. I couldn't even tell you the last time I had been up until 11 pm! A smart mommy-to-be would have taken a nap.

I arrived in good spirits. I filled out all of the appropriate paperwork, put my gown on, got weighed (under my goal weight - whoo-hoo!), and got my IV. Heath and my sister sat nearby, sleepily. I was finally ready to go around 1 am. Before giving me Cytotec to soften my cervix, the nurse checked my progress. I was certain that I had surpassed 2 cm, since I had been having a lot of Braxton-Hicks contractions all week. I was completely disappointed when she said that I was still at 2 cm. However, I was only 2 cm when I came to the hospital with Lucy. So, I was hopeful!

At this point I was already having Braxton-Hicks that were showing up on the contraction monitor. Dr. B had told me that the Cytotec might possibly be enough to send me into labor, especially since I was a second-time mother. That it did...

Just 20 minutes or so after getting it, my contractions became somewhat consistent. By 2 am I was having considerable contractions that were about 5 minutes apart and realized at that point that I would not be sleeping for the night. By 4 am, I was having to "breath" through them and couldn't talk. I was in pain.

When the nurse checked me again, I was certain that I would at least be at 3 cm or more. I was just holding on through those contractions, thinking that an epidural would be coming soon. She checked and I was still 2 cm. What?! I couldn't believe it. I teared up, trying not to be an emotional, sleepy mess. I couldn't believe that I wasn't making progress. The contractions continued.

I walked. I lunged. I did squats. I sat and bounced on a ball. I changed positions. I rocked in a rocking chair. All of this made the contractions stronger and hurt more. I had to be getting somewhere!

I was checked again right about the time the sun came back up. Still no progress. I was crushed. This time, the nurse couldn't even reach my cervix; it was obvious that Olive's head was no longer down. I felt that all of the "work" that my body was doing and the pain I was feeling was literally for nothing. It was so frustrating.

Dr. B came in around 7:15 am. She felt my stomach and checked me. No progress. She couldn't reach my cervix either. She told me that she thought Olive had flipped and was was breach. The nursing team brought in an ultrasound machine to make sure. Dr. B and another doctor both said it looked like she was breach. They called in an ultrasound tech to make sure. While we were waiting, she explained the c-section process to me. I had already come to terms with it. I was experiencing painful contractions and had been for about five hours. Dr. B explained that she didn't think I was progressing because the baby's head pushing down on my cervix is what causes dilation. Since her head wasn't engaged, I wasn't progressing.

I had rolled over while waiting for the tech. Apparently Olive took that opportunity to move again. By time the tech arrived, Olive was head down again. She still wasn't engaged; but, she was in the right direction. We were back on for a vaginal delivery. I admit it; I cried again. I was tired and not getting anywhere. I was heartbroken, thinking that I was going to have to endure the pain even longer and was scared that I still wouldn't have any progress. Dr. B was very supportive though and said we had to focus on getting Olive to move down. I knew that I preferred a vaginally birth, as did Heath; so, I sucked it up and decided to "push on."

The contractions continued as they decided to go ahead with the Pitocin. They thought that the Pitocin might make my uterus contract harder and push Olive down. It only made the contractions more frequent. The nurse checked me again before noon. I was prepared for her to say that there was still no progress. The pessimistic outlook made the news easier to swallow. My dad and step-mom showed up soon after and served as good distractions from the pain and disappointment of no progress.

At 4 pm, I looked at the clock. I had been having these painful contractions for over 12 hours now. I was exhausted. I felt like it was never going to end. The nurse checked me again - nothing. They couldn't break my water either, because Olive's head wasn't engaged. So, we couldn't take the risk of the umbilical cord coming out first. They just kept increasing the Pitocin.

Dr. B finally returned around 5:30 pm. We talked and she gave me the option of either a c-section or going home and trying another day. I was convinced that I would continue to have the contractions at home, on my own. I had been all night. Plus, I was not at all mentally prepared to experience this all again. I was in low, low spirits at this point. I agreed to the c-section. Dr. B asked several times if I was sure, since I had not wanted a c-section.

I was ready though. Ready, ready, ready. I was also exhausted. I was finally taken to the surgery room around 6:30 pm. Heath was taken to the prep room. Unfortunately my sister couldn't be in the room. I asked if she could be dressed and ready though, just in case Heath's Xanax didn't kick in. (He did great though.)

As soon as they took me off that damn Pitocin, I was doing much better! I was still having contractions; but, they were much farther apart. I was ready for my spinal and to meet my baby girl! I was actually smiling, knowing that the time had finally come!

 - To Be Continued -

Dear...

Dear Olive...I am unbelievably anxious for your arrival. Pregnancy, during the time, always feel like it lasts forever; but when I think of announcing we were pregnant in February, I can't believe at how fast these months have gone!


Dear Oreos...it's been real. I've enjoyed these last 8 months or so. I won't be seeing you again until I reach a reasonable weight. Take care!

Dear Uterus...tonight's the big night. Please be good to me. Let's go with minimally painful contractions until I can get an epidural. Thanks.

Dear Lucy...I love you baby girl. We will always have a special bond, since you were my first little girl. However, please know that I will have a bond with Olive too. Each of you are special and I will always have enough time and love for you both. In fact, I may smother you two and make you abandon me during your teen years...

Dear Chico...believe it or not, my foot is not your chair; quit sitting on it.

Dear Dad...yes, I posted a picture of my big ole' nasty foot. At least the big toe is hidden.

Dear Heath...look at what you are doing to our little girl. I am literally lying in bed at night with two tech geeks. :) As long as it pays her bills when she gets older...haha.


Dear September...check out a calendar. You are the beginning of autumn. So, don't be giving me this 95 degree weather, trying to be like August. You are better than that! Seriously. Everyone liked you better before. Now, give me light jacket weather. Please.

Dear Lucy...I am sorry that I can't build tents like Daddy. First of all, I don't get zip-ties from the garage, I'm a little more old school. And, second, it's hard to crawl on the floor with this belly! I promise that I'll be back on the floor with you soon enough.


Dear Readers...sorry if during the next 6 or 8 weeks I am a little MIA. I will be taking care of a new bundle of joy! :) I hope to stop in and share my birth story, along with any updates and several photos; however, you know how I am about that sometimes! :{ Perhaps I will write you in the middle of the night, in lieu of smothering Heath with a pillow...haha. (Don't get that? Check out Tuesday's post.)

Dear Husband...I cannot believe we are bringing another miracle into this world. I am so happy to be sharing my life with you. You are the best thing to ever happen to me; you gave me these wonderful blessings! :) I wouldn't change a thing with our life and I appreciate and love you so much. Remember these words when I am a raging 'B' over the next few weeks. :)

Everyone - have a great rest of September and hopefully you will hear from me soon. Watch Heath's Facebook account for updates. I will also try to give exclusive updates to 'I Love Lucy Jean' Facebook group members. :) Ah, the perks! :)

Pray for us that everything goes well! :)

31 Week Update

I am going to show you possibly the most unflattering picture of me to date. I look huge. I mean it - huge! I thought that last week, me pulling my dress down underneath my tummy made it look bigger. Turns out, not doing it makes it look worse. Leaving the bottom of my tummy to the imagination was a major "no-no" and I am sad about it - sincerely. I blame Heath. He told me I looked cute...

I literally forget how big I am, until I see it like this. Wowsers. I look way farther along than I am.

How far along?
I am 31 weeks and 5 days.I have 58 days until my due date and only 37 days until she is full-term.


Baby is the size of a...
umm...watermelon!? No. According to BabyCenter.com, she is the size of four oranges. That was a really odd comparison. Technically speaking, she is approximately 16.2 inches long and 3.9 lbs. She is still gaining half a pound a week. I wish that was all I was gaining...

Symptoms:
Well, I spent a lot of time nesting on Sunday and my legs hurt really bad. You would think my back would be more sore from squatting so much; but, apparently, I have good squatting form. My legs are totally paying for it! There is still more nesting to do!

I continue to have all the same, other symptoms - occasional back pain, hip pain, or the side of my tummy stretching. I am uncomfortable sometimes, but mostly flippin' hot! Never again. Never. A summer pregnancy was a ridiculous idea. What was I thinking? Someone as dramatic as me can't handle this.


Anything New?
My teeth started to make things interesting for me last week. I woke up with awful tooth pain. It was a tooth that I had cracked on hard candy, then had to get a crown put on (ouch, is right). It was really aching and got so bad that I went to the dentist about it. I wasn't sure they could do much; but, I thought I could try. The crown has been on for four years and they were surprised it hadn't bothered me until now. Thanks for the info, Doc! Basically, I need a root canal. Fun times. I can't have it until after I have the baby. They gave me antibiotics, to keep away infection in the mean time. The meds have actually been helping and the ache isn't as bad.

I went to the doctor then after the dentist; it was a fun-times day. We talked about the usual stuff. Lucy got to help her with the doppler and listening to Olive's "heart-beep," as Lucy calls it. :) It was so cute. I then asked about my huge belly and told her that I felt like it is just out there! It is so much lower than with Lucy.

She said that my core was just apparently that weak. I anticipated as much; but, I didn't realize that it was that weak. In fact, Dr. B claimed that she was surprised my back wasn't bothering me more (knock on wood). Damn-it. It looks like I will be doing a lot to try to get my core back after September...whomp, whomp. Planks here I come!

Oh, and Dr. B also gave me some pain meds for the tooth. :)

New with Heath?
He has been really nice, telling me that I look cute and that "my core" will recover just fine. He is sweet about it all, and makes me feel less like a fat, lazy turd. He continues to get wrapped up in grad. school and is pretty distracted even when he is around. But, he helped me nest on Sunday, which I truly appreciated. I am hoping I can get some more help this next weekend. :)


New with Lucy?
She is getting more excited, I think. She loved to help Dr. B with Olive's "heart-beep." She was more comfortable at the doctor's office and with Dr. B too. I hope that it will make her more comfortable at the hospital, when the time comes. :) Babies, babies, babies, though. That is all we talk about at our house. At least she is a girly-girl and loves to play with them. :)

Anything else?
I will now be visiting my doctor every two-weeks. I am hoping the more frequent visits will make things go faster. I am slightly starting to panic though about preparing for the absence at work. I am in-between bosses right now and I am sure the transition will be tough enough, then I go on 8 weeks maternity leave! Oops. We will see how it all goes. Wish me luck!

Hopefully I wasn't a debbie-downer today. My huge-ness has me down. :( Have a good day!

23 Week Update

I have decided that I did myself a major disservice by not including a picture last week. I think it makes this week a bit more shocking. :{ Prepare....here it comes.

I kept telling Heath that I would forget how big I was until I would see my reflection in the door or something. I am HUGE! The yellow probably doesn't help the case much either. As Heath's grandma told me this last weekend, I "have a long way to go!"


How far along?
I look and feel like I should be a LOT farther along. Even Olive's movement seems so advanced to me. It makes me wonder if she won't be here a little earlier. But, technically, I am 23 weeks and 5 days.

I sure do like watching that bar move across the screen! It just needs to move faster!

Baby is the size of...
a large mango. She is approximately a foot long and a little over a pound.

Symptoms:
Alright, I will just come out and say it - my digestive system is all sorts of jacked up. I'll leave it at that. Pregnancy, no gallbladder, and a cheese craving equals all around awfulness. :(

My hips hurt the other night, but then it rained. I think it is just something that comes with the weather. I certainly hope so! :) My hips hurt with Lucy during the winter; so, I'm staying optimistic that I will get out of the constant hip pain. Maybe... :)

Not really a symptom; but, this belly is getting more difficult to work around.

Yes - those are my feet down there.

Anything New?

I am big. I know that I've already covered this. But, it seems like this last week my face rounded out completely and well, the weight caught up with me. I know that it is my eating habits. I am just eating. I don't watch what I eat, eat any more or any less. I just let myself have whatever I want. Fault? Ehh...that is in the eye of the beholder. At my last appointment I had only gained 9 lbs so far. Not too shabby! :) I am supposed to be between 9 and 13 lbs. I just think that adding 9 lbs to the 12 that I was already carrying around after Lucy ended up badly...oh well. Here's hoping I don't see 200. That is my only weight goal. That, and to not have everyone make shocking comments about how big I am... :{. It's already happening!!

Oh, and I don't have a negative blood type after all! :)  I called to ask more questions and especially about why I never had to get a RhoGAM shot with Lucy and I do now. I stumped the nurse. She was so confused, as was I. She rechecked my file and I have a positive blood type! That is why. My doctor said that when she brought it up to me, that she must have just looked at my file wrong and looked at antibodies or something. I wondered too; so, I busted out my blood card and there it was - positive. I need to pay more attention to what I put in my wallet...the good news is that if I would have gotten it, it wouldn't have hurt me or anything.

New with Heath?
He is being very sensitive to the fact that I tend to be a little more tired with this pregnancy. He is also really understanding about me not lugging Lucy around or picking her up and down all the time. I was doing it at the zoo and he stopped me, "You are going to wear yourself out quickly, doing that."

It's sweet. :) He even let me take a nap Friday night after work. I was worn out. I am glad that he is so understanding and considerate. He did make me laugh though. He told me that he and Lucy were outside playing in the driveway. A sports car, with blaring music drove by. It was a teenage girl and guy, laughing. He said he thought of "Friday nights" back then. Now, he was watching his two-year-old drive circles in the driveway, while his pregnant wife was inside napping. haha. He laughed and said it is just crazy how quickly life changes.

I promise, Heath; we will have Friday nights again - someday! :) And, as far as you letting me rest and taking care of Lucy, thank you. Seriously - thank you! I appreciate you and love you so much!

New with Lucy?
She is somehow becoming more and more dramatic. I think it is due to her daddy's spoiling. :) That is alright with me, as long as he also deals with the "I want my way" tantrums. She really isn't too bad, considering she is only two. She is still a baby, really!

But, she is getting better at the big girl potty! :) I made a new chart. It's cute. I will have to share it with you all sometime. She has two stickers on it! As I mentioned before, when we are home in the evening, we just strip her down naked. That way, she tells us when she has to go. If we do big girl undies, she pees them. She has to be naked. haha. So, it makes for some funny times.

Here she is playing in the living room, patting her daddy's shoulder, while they watch television. haha.

Anything else?
Not really. I think about everything that needs to be done before Olive gets here and it really isn't too much. But, we really need to get started! We need to buy new newborn pacifiers, new bottle nipples, a crib mattress, ideally a new video monitor, newborn diapers and wipes, and more that I can't think of right now. I just need to make a list again. Then, I need to go through Lucy's clothes and pull all of the newborn stuff and see what is the wrong season.

Right now Olive's nursery has become Heath's ironing station. That will have to change. We constantly battle the stupid ironing board! It needs to stay up; Heath uses it almost every day. I just don't know where to put it. :( Organization on the brain. :) Speaking of which, I need to make room in the cabinets for bottles again...ugh! I will be completely organized someday. It will make all of our lives easier. haha. :)

Have a great week! Zoo pictures to come! :)

20 Week Update

These photos of my belly with my head cut off are getting kind of creepy. I'll probably discontinue those...

Well, here is my second try at this post. I was half way done with it last week and it apparently didn't get saved; I may or may not have had a small pity party. It still irritates me.

How far along?
20 weeks and 4 days (I am officially over half-way through this pregnancy! Whoo-hoo!

Baby is the size of a...
Banana, well, in length at least. She is 6.5 inches from head to rump, and 10 inches from head to toe. She is just now supposed to be 10.5 oz; however, at our ultrasound, almost two weeks ago, she was already 11 ounces!! We have a chubby baby on our hands, ya'll!

At my 12 week appointment, my doctor and I discussed the fact that Lucy was an 8 lb, 9 oz baby. Although that isn't too big, Dr. B said it was hard on me (I can imagine!). So, she said that we will keep an eye on this baby and if she gets too big, then we may induce a little early. Induction? That doesn't so much excite me. A week less of pregnancy? Yeah, I could be down with that! :) Plus, my sister and cousin Hannah's birthdays are that week. It would be pretty neat to add a girl to that birthday week!

Symptoms:
I feel pretty good. However, I am definitely approaching the uncomfortable stage. My tummy is starting to get in the way. It is becoming increasingly difficult to put on and tie tennis shoes, shave my legs, and squat to pick stuff up off of the floor. I am even having trouble getting situated next to Lucy's toddler bed at night to read her a story. I am so much bigger than before at 20 weeks!

Otherwise, I am feeling okay. My hip pain apparently comes and goes. I am trying to figure out if it is just sporadic or weather related. It really does seem to come and go. Sometimes, like last week, it is down-right painful. It wakes me in the middle of the night. I just hope, again, that it remains sporadic.


Anything New?
Something I just noticed a couple of weeks ago is that my veins in my hands, arms, and breasts are more prominent. And, no, I don't think it is just my pasty skin. My blood flow must be crazy! I am starting to wonder if it's the blood flow to my breasts that is making them itch so bad! I know male, family readers, it's a little too much information for you. At least I am not talking about constipation!

I have a doctor's appointment scheduled for the afternoon of May 11th. It will probably be, and hopefully be, pretty uneventful. I always love hearing the heartbeat; however, I think it will be the basic pee-in-a-cup visit.

It is just so different now that we know the baby is a girl! It puts a new perspective on everything. I can officially imagine my future with a...girl. :)

New with Heath?
He said the other night, "When the girls get older..." In my emotional state, it just tugged on my heart strings. I can already hear him saying, "our girls" or better yet, "my girls." :) It's so sweet. Perhaps he was just too good of a daddy to Lucy. God wanted to give him another baby girl to spoil.  I distinctly remember telling him that when another child came, he couldn't spoil it as bad as he does Lucy. His response was, "Watch me!" :)  Okay, we will see...two daddy's girls they shall be.

Heath is rubbing my belly a lot more and was able to feel Olive kick the other night too. :) She mostly kicks my bladder - strong, this one is! But, she must have been punching too and Heath felt it.

He still tells me I am beautiful, which I love to hear and sometimes need to hear. I am really starting to feel the weight! I literally rolled out of bed last week, looked in the mirror, and saw that my face was chubbier than before. I was like Tim Allen in The Santa Clause. It's crazy how you don't notice it and then all of a sudden, you do! My medium sized t-shirts are maxed out and my regular jeans will not fit for much longer. Thankfully though that isn't due to my thighs or butt! :) Yet...

Side Note: A cute, petite woman in our building at work just announced her first pregnancy. She is 7 weeks behind me. Ahhh! I'm going to look awful in comparison! I am not looking forward to that!

New with Lucy?
She will try to get in my lap and lean on my tummy a lot. I have to tell her that she can't push on it and so on. She just looks at me and says, "Baby in dere?" It's pretty cute.


Anything else?
 I don't really have much else. I did want to share this comic that I got sent from BabyCenter.com. I enjoyed it and thought you might too.

 
Have a good week!

Scary Times: Part 6

Let's all cross our fingers that this will be the last installment of the "Scary Times" posts. Deal?

When you last heard from me about Lucy being sick, we had just gotten out of the hospital for the second time. Lucy had an incision about 3 or 3.5 inches long in her groin area. Two stitches were holding it together, loosely, and a tube was sticking out of the top. The tube looked just like a McDonald's straw, minus the red or yellow stripe. It was held in by one stitch.

We also had to give her antibiotics and probiotics throughout the day.

Oddly enough, we were able to put her in the bathtub with the tube in. Won't water get inside her? No idea. But, that is what they told us to do. "Cleanliness is close to Godliness," Dr. A said.

The idea of the loose stitching was that the "sore", if you will, needed to heal from the inside out. Dr. A said that he couldn't sew it closed, or the abscess would just come back. That made sense. One week went by. We went in to get the tube out. The cultures of the abscess had come back - more staph infection. We weren't surprised; that is what we had all expected.  He cut the tube stitch and pulled it out in, like, two seconds and we were on our way.

In the next few days the incision continued to kind of ooze. Gross - I know. Then, where the tube was, some skin started to emerge out of the "hole". When we went to get the stitches out, Dr. A said it was scar tissue. He took the other stitches out and told us that we would have to burn Lucy's scar tissue off. Now, doesn't that sound fun?

Sorry - can you sense my annoyance through my sarcasm?

We took home some liquid nitrate sticks. They looked like long Q-tips. Any skin it touched, it would burn. Daily, Heath and I had to hold Lucy down (it seriously took us both!) and would burn some of this scar tissue off. Lucy hated it. When I asked Dr. A if it hurt her, he said it would cause "mild pain" and "sting a little"...whatever that meant for a 21 month old. I dreaded that time of day. Bandage changing and "burning" was the worst.

The good news was that we no longer had to go see Dr. A! As long as the incision looked good in two weeks, we didn't have to follow up! Music to our ears.

Next thing we knew, the incision looked really odd. "The skin isn't touching anymore, right?" I asked Heath. After further staring and thought, we made an appointment with our regular doctor, Dr. B.

It had popped open. You could tell Dr. B hated telling us this. She went on to tell us, "All children aren't all this bad! I promise!" Then she told the nurse, "At this rate, they aren't going to let me deliver any more!" 

Then, she left to call Dr. A from across the hall. Heath stood by the door, trying to hear the conversation. We were nervous that she would be sending us back to Children's. "Please no," we both pleaded. We heard the conversation end. Dr. B conversed with her nurses and they started gathering supplies. The nurse carried in gauze, sterile water, and bandage tape. Whew! No needles or thread!

Dr. B said that Dr. A shared her same regret with this entire situation. It just never seemed to end! My thoughts were, "You're telling me!?"

We did a week of wet to dry gauze changes, while continuing the burning of scar tissue. Fun times. These dressing changes had to take place twice a day and they were more challenging to get in place. The tape made Lucy's groin so red and it started to actually scab in some places. We tried our hardest to move the tape around and not tape in the same place. There just weren't that many options. We looked for a better tape to use than what the doctor gave us. We found a paper tape; but, it still irritated her leg, if we could get it to stick at all. Ugh!

A week later, I took Lucy back to Children's. We had just finished the burning and the incision was looking better. Dr. A said it looked good too. I was worried; could you blame me?

The outcome - no more dressings! No more tape! No more burning! Just neosporin and a band-aid. I was excited! Oh, and no more Children's Hospital! Yay! Nothing personal; I just don't care to see any of them ever again...

I used all of my excitement to go shopping. It was therapeutic to say the least! :) I even splurged a little and got Lucy the cutest brown, suede boots.

Everything is going well and we are both impressed with how much better the incision looks. Now that Daycare is able to see it, without a dressing covering it up, they didn't think it looked too good. I had to kind of laugh to myself, because it was so much worse before.

Now, please join in my excitement (and prayers that it's true) as I type these two little words...

The End.

Scary Times: Part 3

[As most of you may know, our Scary Times "saga" continued this last weekend. It looks like this three part story may have just become a 5 or 6 parter. Stay tuned...]

Part 1
Part 2

The last morning in the hospital was bittersweet. We were so ready to go home; but, we were nervous about not having Lucy monitored closely. We, once again, had a night of constant interrupted sleep. It ended with us being woken up at 7 am by the surgeon resident.  In our sleep deprived state, we still somehow found humor...

The surgeon resident, who was of Indian descent, asked if Lucy had been, "em, meeking da farrts?"

I giggled like an immature school girl as soon as he left. I took it as a good sign for my future state of mind. Little did I know that I would be "taking a test" later on that day.

A little after noon, we were visited by the home health care nurses.  Lucy had to be given antibiotics for the next two weeks, even though we were headed home. These antibiotics needed to be administered through the picc line that was inserted during surgery. The picc line was a tube that went into her arm, just above her inner elbow. It ran up her arm and into her heart. It would allow the antibiotics to be centrally dispersed. Surely, only a qualified, medical staff member could administer those right?

Nope. Say hello to nurse Cori and nurse Heath.

We were walked through the process:

First, prime the antibiotic line by attaching the syringe to the tube and pushing out any air. It is important not to have any air in the line, because it goes straight to her heart. Talk about stressful!!!

Then, wipe off the end of the picc line with one, two, three iodine wipes. Let it dry for 30 seconds. During this time do not let the end touch anything. Then, wipe the end of the picc line off with one, two, three alcohol wipes. Again, don't let it touch anything or you have to start over. We couldn't risk any bacteria getting into the line. Then, put in 5 ml of saline. Again, no air. Attach the antibiotic tube. Let the machine (which we also had to learn how to use) push in the antibiotics for the next thirty minutes. When the alarm goes off, you turn off the machine. Before you disconnect the tube, we must again wipe the connection place with three iodine pads, dry 30 seconds, wipe with three alcohol pads. Then, 5 ml more of saline and 2 ml of heparin. No air in either of those syringes, remember!

That isn't too bad for once a day, right? No - it isn't. How about three times a day? Every eight hours? Yep. Awful. We were doing it at 6 am, 2 pm, and 10 pm. And, we had to remember to set the antibiotic out (from the fridge) 30 minutes before, so it wasn't cold. Lucy had to sit still too.

I apparently passed the "absolutely, completely unqualified parental test" that they gave me. Which means, I did it once in front of them and they gave me a handout. Needless to say, I was stressing pretty hard about doing this for the next 10+ days!

In addition to the picc line, we also had to flush her drain and measure the nasty, infected output once a day. Gross...TMI...but it smelt awful. (Grandma and Grandpa: TMI stands for "too much information".)

The days at home were long. I felt like I had a newborn again. Lucy slept awful. It was like she was having night terrors or something. I debated if she was traumatized by the hospital or if she was in pain. Without her being able to talk, your guess is as good as mine. We had to set an alarm to get up around 5:15 am to set out the antibiotic. Day and night were no longer differentiated.

Heath and I were stressed. We were getting on each other's cases. Through all of this, we internalized a lot of our pain. We rarely hugged or patted each other on the back. We forgot to comfort each other. You feel so much like you are the one who needs comforting that you forget that someone else does too. Heath felt it just as much as me. It was difficult to remember.

Thursday came. Lucy was going to get her drain out. Whew! One tube gone and one less thing to worry about. We made the trip to Omaha again, to Dr. A's office. I liked Dr. A. He was comforting. He was real with us. He treated us like real people and not just another face.

Dr. A entered the room. We somewhat dreaded getting the drain out, because of the pain Lucy would feel. But, we looked forward to her being able to run around without tripping on the bag.  The drain came out with ease. No problems there. However, Dr. A had some additional information for us.

"The abscess culture came back. I was expecting to see, well, poop, with the appendicitis. The only bug we saw was....staph."

After the initial shock of hearing "staph", Heath and I gather a few questions in our mind. "How did she get it? So, it isn't appendicitis? How do we know for sure that it wasn't her appendix? What now? How do we explain all of these appendicitis type symptoms?"

Dr. A had no idea how Lucy got a staph infection. Neither did we. Apparently we have staph all over our bodies all the time; it isn't like she got it from someone else. He was pretty sure that it wasn't appendicitis now. Staph commonly settles in the iliopsoas muscle (a muscle that runs from your spine down the right-side of your leg, right next to the appendix). I say commonly, because in adults this is common. Common for Lucy's age? Nope. It is even rarer than appendicitis. Dr. A compared it to getting struck by lighting.

He said he was pretty sure that it was just staph and not appendicitis. Therefore, he recommended that we not go on with the surgery to get Lucy's appendix out. He actually said, "If it was my daughter...(30 second pause)..I'd ride it out."  This didn't exactly provide us with the peace of mind we wanted. We apparently just had to monitor Lucy closely, just in case it was the appendix.

Stressful.

Our minds were reeling. What just happened? Everything we thought we knew was out the window. We were told to continue to the antibiotics per usual and then get the picc line out a week later.

The days continued the same. On Sunday, Heath was administering the antibiotics. When he started the machine, Lucy started coughing and almost gasping for air. Her face turned instantly red and her lips turned blue. Heath yelled for me to come closer. My mind went blank and all I could yell was, "Turn it off!" My heart was sinking. I was trying so hard to remember the rules to infant CPR.

Within a few seconds of turning it off, the color came back to her lips and she was breathing normal. Her face remained dark red. I shakily dialed the number to our local home health care. The nurse, who I didn't know, told me to try the antibiotics again. Yeah, no. So, I called Childrens. Thankfully Dr. A was on call that weekend! I was able to speak with him directly. He said to leave it off and to clamp the picc line back. We would switch to oral antibiotics. He suspected something was wrong with the picc line "mechanics."

That moment was excruciatingly scary. But, we were happy to be done with that damn picc line!

We scheduled a time to go in on Tuesday to get the picc line out - two days before we were originally scheduled. We, again, looked forward to the visit. We wanted all of this to be over. Dr. A took out the picc line with just a snip of a stitch and a tug. He looked and it was clogged. We were basically expanding the tube and blocking her blood flow. Scary. Scary. Scary.

Dr. A took another look at Lucy's abscess site and how it was healing. There was some obvious swelling. It even looked bigger than last time, in Lucy's groin area. He told us to expect the lymph nodes to swell a bit. We were to call him if it got red or if she got a fever. We discussed again the possibility of this all being her appendix. He stuck to his same recommendation. He felt pretty confident that it was just staph.

On the way home, we scheduled an appointment with our doctor, Dr. B. We really, really trust her. We wanted her opinion on the appendix vs. the only staph idea. She told us that the appendix rupture would have included some type of e. coli in the culture results. This culture didn't have that; so, she was pretty certain that this was only staph. She said the only confusion for them was how the heck did Lucy get this? Ditto.

We left her office with the weight off of our shoulders. It was a sunny day and this thing was behind us. We now just had to finish her oral antibiotics on Saturday and we were done...or so we thought.

- To Be Continued -

Scary Times: Part 2

For Part 1, go to: http://www.ilovelucyjean.com/2011/10/scary-times-part-1.html.

After what can only be called an emotional, exhausted, mental breakdown on both our parts, Heath continued to Walmart to get our overnight supplies. I was falling in and out of sleep when he returned. We decided to go into the bathroom to talk and to turn on a light. We didn't want to wake Lucy.

Heath showed me each of the items that he got, and looked for approval on the yoga pants and Huskers shirt he picked up for me at Walmart. Finally, for our culinary delight, he set a fountain drink caddy and a brown fast-food bag on the bathroom counter. Let me tell you something first...

Remember how I mentioned that we had gone to the doctor the day before? Well, when driving through town, I spotted the Burger King sign, "New California Whopper". I started to tell Heath that I had enough bad experiences at Burger King that the thought of even eating there made me want to gag. He kind of chuckled and said that he saw the same sign and thought the same thing. We then had a short 30 second rant on how gross it had become to us.

Guess what logo was on the side of that brown paper bag on the hospital bathroom counter? You guessed it: Burger King. Only in our hellish day could fate throw that type of irony at us. It was the only fast-food place open that late in the immediate area - even McDonalds was closed.

Oddly enough, we laughed. I think when you spend the entire day thanking the Lord for your many blessings, you just stop complaining. We stood in the bathroom, giggling like pre-teen girls who had stayed up too late, stuffing our faces. Heath munched on a chicken sandwich, while I poked around on chicken fingers. They were a little too crispy and were basically all breading. But, if you dipped them in the sauce, simply labeled "Zesty", they weren't too awful. I was more pumped about the fountain drink and swigged that caffeine right down. Heath and I somewhat reflected on the day. We knew there was much more to come though.

The nurses came in throughout the night to check Lucy's vitals. Lucy woke up and cried each time. By this time, she didn't trust any strangers that came in the door. I would help calm her each time they came in.

We woke up around 7 am to several nurses and doctors entering the room. I greeted them with my puffy eyes, no make-up, and morning breath. I'm sure I looked like a gem. Did I mention that I hadn't showered yet either? We were told that Lucy's surgery wouldn't be until the afternoon. This made it a long morning.

Heath decided to head home to get more things. It was obvious that we would be there for a couple more days. This gave me too much time to think. I was alone for about 2 1/2 hours. During that time, I held Lucy in the recliner, squeezed her tight, and well, panicked. I would start thinking about the surgery and start to work myself up so much that I thought I might be sick. My heart was racing and my face was red. I had to talk myself down several times. I've never felt such panic in my life.

I tried to ease my mind by asking one of the random nurses - or doctors or helpers or whoever she was in scrubs - that came in, if I could be with Lucy until she fell asleep from the anesthetic. She said yes. Whew! That made me feel a little better.

Thankfully my Aunt Amy showed up and once I had a good cry with her, I was distracted. It was so nice having someone in the room again, besides Lucy. When my Uncle Matt and Heath showed up, my mind was even more free. I was able to joke and laugh again. My heart stopped beating out of my chest.

Visitors came and went before the surgery that evening. It was originally scheduled for 5 pm...then 5:45 pm....then 6:30 pm....and then I think it was 7 pm when we started to head down. Heath carried Lucy as I held back tears. Some slowly streamed down my face as we walked down the hall and took the slow elevator ride down. Heath's sister, Heather, was crying, as well as my mother-in-law. I couldn't even bring my eyes up from the floor at the fear of losing it completely.

We were taken to a room to wait. A nurse came in to talk to us. Then, the surgeon came in and explained things. Finally, two nurses came to get Lucy. I realized then, that the scrubs lady had lied to me. We weren't going to be with Lucy when she went to sleep. I quickly told the nurse that I was misinformed. She shared my annoyance.

It simply broke my heart. Lucy was taken by a stranger, to an unfamiliar place, and all we could do was wave at her. I wrapped my arms around Heath.

I said, in between crying breaths, "I wanna kick that nurse who told me that!"

I wanted to do more than just kick her; but, my motherly, censored mouth came up with "kick" and kept me from calling her a much worse name.

During surgery, I was again oddly calm and optimistic. Being in the colorful lobby was comforting. Staring at the huge banners about being named the number one children's hospital in two areas of practice was comforting. Family was comforting.

The surgeon came out, said it was done, and it went great. I thought to myself that the hardest part was over. I breathed a sigh of relief and couldn't wait to get to Lucy. I just wanted to squeeze her so tightly. I actually sped walked, following closely.

There she was - puffy and still drowsy from the anesthetic. I hugged her and carried her back to her room. I thought that the night would be a peaceful one. Lucy would sleep...well, like a baby. It would be the best night of sleep she had in a long time. After lots of kisses from family, everyone but Heath's mom, Jeannie, left.

Everyone missed it, but Jeannie.

The morphine. Oh my gosh, the morphine. It caused Lucy to have fits. She didn't want anything touching her. She hit us, the bed, her thousands of cords hooked up to her. She rolled around furiously. She'd shout "owwiee" and "mommy". I'd try to pick her and she'd just hit me and push me away. There was no calming her. This happened all night long. We quickly learned that all we could do was move the cords out of her way and keep her from hitting her head on the bed side. Every time the nurses came in for vitals, it happened.

Jeannie left around midnight, and two morphine induced fits.

At around 2 am, I lost it. I bawled to Heath. I hated watching her like that. I hated hearing her yell "Mommy" and not be able to do anything for her. I cried. I cried hard. I stopped holding my tears back and finally allowed them to flow. I allowed the breath to escape from my lungs. I collapsed and emotionally checked out.

Thank God for my brave husband. He took over for the night, keeping the cords out of Lucy's way during each of her "fits". I sat near the couch and watched from across the room. It was a trying night.

They finally took her off the morphine at around 7 am. Then she slept like a rock. She slept like I had imagined she would sleep the night before. She was peaceful and calm. It was nice...until around 4 pm. Then, it became worrisome.

"Is she supposed to sleep this much? Is this normal"

We finally got her to open her eyes for some apple juice around 5 pm. Then, she saw me eating some macaroni and cheese and opened her mouth for some. Ahh....that was my Lucy! Sometime in between bites she fell back asleep.

Lucy slept for over 24 hours straight. It did allow for us to sleep some too.

The next day, our mission was to get her to eat.

We tried all day. It was a slow process; but, it got better with each meal. Her cousin Alex came to visit her too. They were able to go for a wagon ride around the floor. We ended up in the playroom. Lucy was almost herself. It was a wonderful feeling. Besides her puffiness, the bandages and her drain bag, she looked happy.

She still took long naps; but, at least she played in between.

Things were looking up and it really did seem like the worst was behind us. All we had to do now was wait for the second surgery...

- To Be Continued -

Scary Times: Part 1

Where have I been? Well, most of you know. But, here is my completely un-Halloween related scary story - the worst type of scary...

Lucy had been fighting something. She was having the occasional fever and she had been tugging on her ear. She was even turning her pacifier to the side and chewing on it. I thought for sure she was teething, with her two-year molars, and the ear infection came with it.

I stayed home with her a few days and it seemed like she got better. Later that week it came back; but, this time it didn't subside. Finally, we decided to take her to the doctor. She needed to get that ear infection taken care of.  On that Wednesday morning, we took her in. She had one ear infection and the other ear was getting one too. Poor girl. We picked up some oral antibiotics and headed home.

That night Lucy started to say, "Ouchie." We had also started to notice her favoring her leg. We thought for sure that she had hit her knee at DayCare or something similar. But, by the next day, the favoring had become a limp, and she wouldn't even put weight on her right leg. I continued to think it had nothing to do with her fever and ear infections. Why would it?  Heath got paranoid enough that he decided to call our doctor.

"Cori, Dr. B sounded really concerned. She wants me to bring Lucy in right away."

At that point it was still unclear to us how the two could be linked. We had done some googling that only left us freaked out. Apparently, an infection can settle in a joint...like a hip joint.

We walked into the same waiting room that we were just in the day before. This time, our hearts were beating just a bit faster. I kept telling Heath, and myself, "It's going to be alright. She'll be just fine."

Our doctor didn't seem to be nervous or worrisome. It helped calm our nerves. She said she wanted to take an x-ray, to make sure it wasn't her hip bone, and that they wanted to take some blood. They took some blood and while the test was running, we were escorted to the x-ray room. It took both of us to hold her down.

The x-ray? Normal.

Great. We sat in the examination room, playing with a puzzle. There was an odd sense of optimism.

The next few moments were kind of a blur. The doctor walked in, accompanied by three nurses. She didn't say anything but, "Lucy is very sick."

I know that she followed up by saying that she was sending her to Children's Hospital, they would run an IV, and that Lucy's white blood cells were doubled. I just can't remember in what order. I was still stuck on, "Lucy is very sick."

I'd be lying if I said that cancer hadn't crossed my mind.

I managed to muster, "So, she'll be going by ambulance?"

"Yes. I'll call and they will be expecting you."

We asked what she thought it could possibly be. She said an infection in her joint or possibly even her appendix, which would be very rare.

In the blur of movement and conversation, we had to hold Lucy down for the nurses to insert an IV. Heath sat in the corner chair, unable to watch the needle penetrate Lucy's skin. I stood over Lucy, telling her that it would be okay - not knowing if I was lying or not. My fearful tears began to fall near Lucy's head.

The doctor re-entered to tell us that Children's had requested Lucy to come in "as-is". That way they could run accurate tests once she arrived. We were then given the option to drive her up; we took it.

As long as the drive to Omaha should have been, it really wasn't. We took turns calling our family members and trying to give them a run-down of what just happened. I only called my mom and started crying so hysterically, that Heath had to call everyone else for me. It was rough; but, Heath was so brave for me and Lucy. I am very thankful.

We entered the ER at Children's to wait for almost two hours. My fear turned to annoyance and then quickly to anger. I watched a girl with a sprained ankle go in before us. Didn't they know that Lucy was "very sick"? Being in an urban hospital was very different than what I was used to. We were literally just being shuffled around. We met numerous nurses and doctors. We had to retell our story to several people.

We finally made it to an ER examination room at about 5:30 pm. They took more blood, while I had to hold Lucy down again. They also took her vitals and looked in her ears. The IV also needed replaced to be compatible with their equipment. It was very hard for me to accompany them, holding Lucy still, against her will. I just wished I could explain to her what was going on.

We asked the ER nurse what they thought it was. He said that they were testing her for blood infections and so on. He explained a little more; but, my mind stayed wrapped around blood infection. It scared me.

Every time Heath and I were in the room alone, we would obsess over what was going on and all the horrible, possible outcomes. Thank goodness I had scared my mom on the phone enough that she had immediately headed north, with my sister and her family. They came just at the right time. I was verging on a complete breakdown.

One of the several doctors we met with ordered an ultrasound. By the time we go into the ultrasound room, it was about 8:30 pm. They found no fluid on her hip joint. So, basically, it was back to the drawing board. The tech called the radiologist. He said to check her ovaries. That scared me too. I shuttered at the thought of little Lucy not being able to have children of her own. At some point, they also checked her appendix.

We were ushered back to the room and then told that her appendix had an abscess (a pocket of infection). It had more than likely ruptured. They wanted to do a CT scan, to confirm. We finally had the CT scan at around 10:30 pm. My family had left once they found out more about what was going on.

Again, we had to hold Lucy down while they strapped her in. She was so tired at that point; we all were. Thankfully she fell asleep in the machine. The CT confirmed an abscess around the appendix. It was also surrounding her bladder, her ovaries, her hip muscles, lower intestine, and I think they even said it involved her uterus. Apparently her immune system was so good that her organs walled the infection in. They kept it in one place - thank God.

We were told that the area was too inflamed and had a lot of puss, etc. around it. They couldn't take her appendix out without first cleaning the abscess out. They would have to do surgery to drain out the infection. Then, she would have to wear a bag for a week. The infection would continue to drain out, into the bag. It sounded like we had at least a couple months of this stuff left. But, for the night, we would have to stay in the hospital. Lucy would have surgery scheduled for the following day.

We finally got into a room at midnight. The day marked what would be one of the longest days of my life. Once the floor nurses poked and prodded on Lucy again, while I held her down for the hundredth time, we were left alone.

Heath was in street clothes and I had come from work, so I stood there in dress slacks and high heels. Of course, the one freaking day I actually wear heels! We decided that I would stay with Lucy. He would run out to get us some food, some pajamas, and some toothbrushes.

He left and I just sat there watching Lucy. I started to cry and pray again; but, very few tears fell. I think I was out of tears for the day. Little did I know, but Heath was sitting in the parking lot crying and praying too. Brave faces are hard to sustain. Sometimes all you can do is ask God for help and for the strength to make it through the following days.

- To Be Continued -

Ignorance Really is Bliss

Lucy got run over by a plastic car.

Yep. You read correctly. I watched as Lucy was smashed by a plastic, toy car.

 Let me explain.

As you may already know, I was Banned from DayCare; therefore, I can't go visit Lucy over my lunch hour anymore (which results in more blog posts - yay?). It was pretty difficult at first; but, Heath and I were beginning to manage pretty well. It was getting easier. But now...the children are going out to the playground during our lunch hour. We can hear them outside playing.

What's the harm in peeking out the window? None. Right?

Wrong.

The window in my office looks directly over the daycare playground. Heath is the one who first looked out and called me over.

"Cori - come look. She is walking around."

Of course I took off running for the window. She was so cute, just walking around in the grass, all wobbly. We were kind of surprised that she was unaccompanied. She was just going about her own business. We would never leave her to herself in our back yard. She'd be eating grass or rocks, or something!

She was walking along the sidewalk while the bigger children played on tricycles and big-wheelers. A few even had those plastic cars - you know, the red ones, with the yellow surround? They were some like those. One kid was pushing a car down the side walk. It was like slow motion.

Lucy was standing at a sidewalk intersection, not even looking at the bigger kid charging her way. My heart was begging for Lucy to move.

Lucy turned and bam. The bigger kid hit her with the car, pretty hard I might add. It knocked her down, flat to her belly, her head only about an inch from hitting the cement, as the kid continued to push the car over top of her.

My baby girl just laid there on the sidewalk with a plastic car over half of her body.

I was instantly...pissed.

I wanted to just go running to her rescue and to scold the older child for being so mean and careless. But, I was two floors up, watching helplessly. I waited...

She didn't cry. Whew...once the kid finally realized that Lucy was too big of a speed bump and backed up, she got up. She gave him a dirty look, which I enjoyed. I was so proud that she didn't cry and was very relieved that she wasn't hurt.

Now, where in the H-E-double-hockey-sticks were the daycare people?

Oh, out of all THREE of them out there, one was with the younger babies, in the stroller (rightfully so). The other two? Talking. Talking? Yep - just chattin' it up on the other side of the playground. There weren't even any children in their view! One had a cellphone in her hand too. She wasn't using it; but, I was still annoyed.

The entire thing happened and no one saw it - but, the second floor window parents (us!).

I knew then that an awkward, passive-aggressive conversation would soon be taking place between me and the director. I wondered how I would explain what happened without being a psycho, protective mommy. I mean, the director wasn't even there at the time.  However, I have to say something. If I achieve nothing else, I just want them to know that we could be watching, always.

If they want to ignore children (which they shouldn't be), at least they will know that they should always be watching Lucy. Her momma's a bit on the crazy side.

After discussion with, the also infuriated, Heath, we decided that perhaps it is better not to watch. Ignorance really just might be bliss...

Oh, who am I kidding? Now, I'm going to be at that window like a hawk!

Am I Missing a Few Teeth?

Because, if I get reverse head-butted one more time...

Oh, you don't know what the reverse head-butt is? It is when a squirmy toddler, who is experiencing either the sleepy wobbles or a major tantrum, is in your lap; they lean forward and without any warning lean back really fast, cracking their head right into your mouth.

This has resulted in some sore, and I swear almost loose, front teeth. She has even bloodied my lip! Thank goodness it seems to hurt me a lot more than it does her. The bloody lip experience is the only time she cried. I am not sure it was the pain or my moaning that made her cry. 

"So, Lucy, what did you want to watch on...oohp....son-of-a..."

No - I didn't cuss. I stuck to the Tommy Boy version.

I may have teared up too, since no one else was there to judge. The few times Heath has seen it, he just gives me one of these:

- eyebrows raised
- teeth fully in view, clenched
- nose scrunched
- head titled

Are you trying this out as you read? You should. You'll get the idea.

The expression says, "Holy crap - that looked like it hurt. Are you gonna cry?"

I am scared too. Lucy is only getting bigger. There will be a day that she pops back and breaks my nose! Nothing is worse than getting hit in the nose too. Okay, a few things. But, it is like cutting onions, water rushing up your nose, Dr. Pepper burp, and getting punched all at the same time!

Haha...did I go a bit far with the Dr. Pepper burp? Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about.

Anyway, wish me luck in my future. I will be sure to get lots of pictures of these pearly whites, just in case they decide to exit my mouth, via Lucy's head. Good thing we have great dental insurance.