Back. And moving.

>> July 15, 2010

So I think I'm finally back. But I'm moving. Over to Wordpress. I would love to give a really good explanation but honestly, it's because they have an app for my iphone and Blogger doesn't. Sad but true. As for where I've been and why I'm back, well you'll just have to hop over to Wordpress and find out. I hope to see you there. I know I look forward to reading your blogs again.


My new blog


Six Word Saturday

>> October 10, 2009

Baby B is 5 weeks old!


5 weeks

>> October 8, 2009

The medical profession is funny.  Even though we've only known about it since Sunday and even though it only happened on the 17th of last month (yes, actually I do know the exact day), if someone were to  ask me how far along I was today, I'd be able to tell them, "5 weeks!"

I'll let that sink in for a minute.

I'm pregnant!!!

Okay, so quick preggers math for those of you who aren't as week-obsessed:  Pregnancy is considered 40 weeks, not from the whole sperm boy meets egg girl part, but from the first date of your last cycle.  Which is weird because it's like being pregnant for two weeks before there was even an egg girl to meet the sperm boy.  Science is just fun like that.

But back to the whole miracle thing!

Jeff and I know that it's not really considered good form to tell the world so soon because "something may happen".  And we know, we do.  I have had too many friends who have lost pregnancies early on not to be painfully aware of that.  But here's the thing.  I'm pregnant!  And that in itself is such an awesome miracle that we can't help but shout it from the rooftops.  We did tell a few close friends and family right away (we called the parents at 4 in the morning but that's another story) and asked them to pray for us.  We so appreciate you all for doing that and we covet your prayers still.  But we realized that, A) we're just not that fearful, certainly much less than last time, and B) no matter what the outcome, we want everyone to know what an Awesome God we serve!  I have PCOS.  Jeff also had some issues.  Those two things together makes Asher a total miracle even with the medical intervention.  So to have us, here, now, pregnant, ON OUR OWN!!  is absolutely a gift from God. 

We're due June 10th, 2010.  Asher will be a week (or so) past 26 months when he becomes the big brother we have long dreamed of him becoming.  We are very excited, joyful, freaked, ecstatic, hopeful, blessed, amazed, and generally in awe.  We can't quite believe it at times, but there it is.  I wrote in my journal a few days after we got the news that I was pregnant with Asher, "No matter what, no one will ever be able to take this away from me.  I am pregnant."  And it definitely feels that way this time as well.  I am just so unbelievably blessed.  My God is a great big God and He holds us in His hands.

*Okay, we didn't actually call our parents at 4am their time, it was like 8pm and 9pm their time, so stop shaking your finger at me.  The day I was going to take the pregnancy test, we were woken up just before 4am by the people across the street declaring their undying hatred of each other at the top of their lungs.  I'm not kidding, the windows were closed and I could hear every word.  Ugh.  Anyway, I figured that that was my morning pee and I may as well get it over with (I'm notorious for being a day or two late, testing, and then immediately getting my period).  Only it was positive.  Jeff had come down, too and made a mention that our parents would likely be up, so we decided to go ahead and call.  There.  Happy now?


Why post when you can comment? (and the 2nd installment of a Little Brit Different)

>> September 30, 2009

I should totally just copy what I write in people's comments and put them here as a post.  I'm way wittier and I do it more often.  I really am working on getting my life in order.  It seems like this month has just been a total wash.  But new month tomorrow, right?  Jeff's birthday is coming up and I'm looking forward to maybe even having a babysitter so we can have a meal by ourselves for once celebrate in style.  More on that to come.

And now, for something...

Jeff and I saw this the other day at the grocery store and I wish I'd stopped to take a picture, but I fear I was gawping a little too long to long and the lady had gone into the store.  Apparently it's not such a big deal to have an infant in the front seat of a vehicle here.  And it's not like this was only a 2-seater, there was more than enough room in the back to put the carseat.  And it's not like this was an older child, this was an infant in a rear-facing carry seat thingy.  And it's not like this was an older car with no airbag up front, it was a swank, new model, silver BMW.  I really hope my jaw didn't make too loud a noise as it hit the ground.

*Okay, so I just looked up UK child seat law and apparently it is actually illegal to put a rear-facing child seat in the front IF there is an active airbag.  Who knows, maybe she can turn hers off, or maybe she's just wildly mis-informed.  But on another interesting note, with the exception of rear-facing, it is totally legal to put a child in any other kind of seat in the front as long as they're properly restrained.  (For non-North-Americans or childless folks, you can't put a child in the front seat until they're 12 years old or a certain height/weight in North America)

**Please don't think I'm saying that people on this side of the pond are all heartless people putting their children in mortal danger (although in the case of a rear-facing child seat in a possible air-bag zone I'm tempted), I actually find it refreshing to be in a place with significantly less paranoia fear caution.  And I have to say, given a drive through the country with just Asher and I, I would be tempted to move him to the front seat so I can interact with him more and perhaps be able to give him food and/or drink without completely dislocating my shoulder and trying to watch the road and child behind me at the same time, which, come to think of it, is likely the most dangerous bit right there.


In Memorium

>> September 21, 2009

On friday we got the call, my husband's Oma (dutch for grandma) was quickly declining in health.  She had stopped eating and drinking and it was expected to be only a matter of time.  Family was encouraged to come right away if they could.  We got Jeff a flight out Sunday afternoon and as much as we would have liked to have all gone together, it would have been very costly and Asher has been suffering from a bad cold and I imagine a nine hour flight would have been very hard on him (and everyone else).

As we were getting ready to leave for the airport, we got the next call.  Oma had passed away early that morning.  My heart aches for my dear husband and his parents who were still on the road, trying to get there to say one last goodbye.  I took the call as he was getting Little Man dressed.  That is news I never wanted to give.  He was crushed, angry at himself for not taking an earlier flight.  We had looked at a flight on Saturday, but the plan would have been to stay with my dad in Calgary that night anyway and ride to Stettler with his parents the next day.  He still wouldn't have made it.  But it's easier to do anything than feel the sharp pain of loss.  As for me, I did everything I could to focus on taking care of him and Little Man so that I wouldn't have to look at my own pain at this loss.

Oma was quite the fiesty lady.  Her favourite word was 'bullshit'.  And it perfectly described how she approached life.  Not much was worth fussing over, most of it was just bullshit.  She loved to make sure you didn't take yourself too seriously with a gentle ribbing and a wink as she laughed at you.  She was the first of Jeff's family that I met.  Her apartment was warm and full of mementos of Holland (where she was born) and pictures of her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.  She always offered you a drink and something sweet.  And by drink, I mean drink, no matter what the time of day.  She loved advocat or a rye and seven.  Advocat, for those who may not know (I know I didn't), is a banana liqueur and wow is it strong.  My first experience with it was a shot she insisted I take.  I think the next time she was more gentle with me and just insisted on some chocolates with advocat in them ;).

 *edit: my husband informed me that advocat is an egg liqueur.  woops.  well, it was yellow and the chocolates with advocat were shaped like bananas.  maybe that time it really was banana liqueur.  hmmm.  all I know is that it was midday, very strong, and Oma was kind enough to simply chuckle at my watering eyes.

I like to think she liked me.  Maybe because I didn't treat her with trepidation, I was very close to my Grannie and never felt that generation gap.  Maybe because I laughed along with her ribbing.  Maybe because I laughed when she used her 'favourite word' and cluck disapprovingly (I hear that happened often).  Maybe just because I loved her grandson who she had recently become so close to.

I remember one trip, we wanted to take her out for lunch.  So we asked her if there was a place she liked especially and we would take her there for lunch the next day.  She told us and off we went.  I couldn't remember why it sounded familiar until we got there.  It was a chain in a mall food court. At first, we felt bad because we had wanted to take her to a real reastaurant, but it was where she wanted to go and I think maybe she did it on purpose.  The food court was a place she went regularly and knew several people on our way and walking through the mall.  I think maybe she wanted to be seen out with her grandson.

As much as I wish I could be there to say goodbye and be there for my husband during this time, I am very grateful that he is able to be there.  Oma will be greatly missed.


Back on the horse and The Failure of Dr. Google.

>> September 16, 2009

A couple months ago (was it that long? I could look it up, but...nah) I had the opportunity to guest post for cbethblog.  I was truly honored as hers was one of the first blogs I started following almost a year ago when all this began (again, wow, has it been that long?).  So, as I try to get back on the horse, I'm starting slow and using a guest post from the lovely C. Beth:

The Failure of Dr. Google
Recently Zoodle, my 17-month-old son, got a diaper rash. I think it started as a reaction to his diaper brand. It then turned into hives, and then settled into a slightly itchy, red rash that just wouldn't go away. Then he got red bumps on his tummy, face, and legs.

So I did what any mom would do--I used Google to find descriptions and photos of rashes. Okay, maybe that's not what any mom would do. A lot of moms would go to the doctor. But I really wanted to figure it out. We live in the U.S. and have a high deductible health insurance policy, and I just didn't love the idea of spending $80 to get a rash checked out.

My conclusion from looking at the rash photos was that the red bumps were due to a heat rash.  I hoped Dr. Google's diagnosis had been correct, as I looked for treatment information. I read that one thing I
shouldn't do was put any oily lotions on him, since that can make heat rash worse.  Instead, I should use baby powder and give him plenty of naked time.

I followed Dr. Google's instructions. The rash persisted.

Finally, I gave in and called my doctor's office. They got him in that day, and I found out that Zoodle did not have heat rash; he had eczema.

Here's the thing--eczema treatment is pretty much the opposite of heat rash treatment. No need for powder, since that can dry the skin more. I was told to use oily petroleum jelly to lubricate the skin. And I got a prescription some fantastic steroid cream to help clear it up too.  Soon after implementing our doctor's recommendations, Zoodle's rash was well on its way to clearing up.

That's when I realized--Google can lead me to a lot of answers, but Dr. Google doesn't take the place of our family doctor. Nothing online can replace an experienced doctor looking at my child, hearing his history, and making a diagnosis.  It was an important lesson to learn.

Now, I'll still use the Internet when I have medical questions. Sometimes I find great, easy answers to our problems just by doing a quick search. But next time I have an issue that stumps me, hopefully it won't take me quite as long to call the person who actually went to medical school--no offense to Dr. Google.

With any luck, we'll be back to our regularly scheduled program shortly.



>> September 11, 2009

You know when you mean to call someone, but you put it off and put it off and it gets later and later and you think of all the reasons you can give as to why it took you so long to call but the longer you leave it the more pathetic those excuses seem and you don't really want to face it so you put it off some more...yeah, it's kinda like that.

I seem to only be able to blog when things are pretty much going okay.  When I get overwhelmed by stuff or long buried crap comes up I seem to just kind of shut down and don't want to really talk to anyone.  Apparently including all my bloggy friends.  And there a few of you out there that I do consider friends, or at least friends in the making.  I wish I could say life's just been busy but I it hasn't.  I can't even say that I haven't had much to say lately but there's been a ton of crap running around inside my head, but none of it wants to come out.  It just all sounds pathetic and self-serving to me. 

Even this I didn't want to write, but either I am going to keep up with this blogging thing or I'm not and I have missed it.  I do have a lot of non-crappy things that I could have blogged about but I seem to not be able to do fluff when life isn't feeling fluffy.

Most of you, I've kept up with, I just haven't had much to say in the way of comments either.  I'll be back soon, I'm sure.  Just a little note to say I'm not dead.


About This Blog

I love this adventure I'm on with my Rocket Scientist. The most recent addition to our expedition has me in awe daily. I can't wait to see My Little Man as a big brother. We started off by moving from Western Canada to Chicago and now we're in the UK. Will this Strange Mamma ever not feel like a stranger in the land?

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