I ended up calling my OB/GYN yesterday and this is how the phone conversation proceeded:
Me: Hi! I’m a patient of Dr.F’s and I am having some problems. I started having cramps last night in my lower abdomen around my ovaries, and then proceeded to start throwing up. I haven’t thrown up today, but I am really hurting around my ovaries and was wondering if maybe I had a cyst to rupture? I would just like to talk to one of the nurses,please.”
Mean Lady: “Well, she is going to want you to come in. How is Friday afternoon?”
Me: I can’t do Friday. Is there anything sooner?
Mean Lady: Well then, can you do Tuesday? (In a snooty voice)
Me: *sigh* yes, Tuesday is fine. Am I still going to get to talk to a nurse today? Can someone call me back?
Mean Lady: Oh no. That’s not likely.
Uhhh okay. Please tell me, what is the point of having doctors if and when you have a FREAKING problem, you can’t get into see them that day? Please tell me how 6 days from now, this dr. appt is going to help me? This is ridiculous. I didn’t call to be cock blocked by some stupid receptionist. I wanted to talk to someone. To see what I can do to aliviate pain. I can’t even pick up my daughter b/c it hurts. Please tell me how this helps anyone?? Besides, when you go to these drs it’s an all day affair anyway.
But, I am already feeling better. Just a little sore and extremely bloated. I have a muffin top over my jeans. I prefer elastic waist pants today.
On a different note… My weight loss is going pretty well. I got down to 136.5 a couple of weeks ago, and the WW peeps decided I needed less points and I kind of fell apart. And got sick. And with the bloating, I am back up to 139. Which isn’t so bad. But I wanted to be 135 at Thanksgiving, and it doesn’t look like that will happen. Sad day.
This morning, I was to meet Natalie, who is my partner in crime for the Disney Princess Half. We have started running two mornings a week together to prepare for our 13.1 mile journey in a few months. As I sat in the car, waiting on her to get there, I started thinking about last night when I was putting the finishing touches on my new photography blog. I was in the section about myself and I thought Who Am I? I am a photographer. A Mom. A Wife. And…. a runner. I love it. I get down on myself a lot about it. Maybe I’m not as fast as someone else, or have the motivation to get up before the sun to run– which is when I actually have time to do it, and it really makes my day better. BUT… I do love it. I never thought that would be a part of me. Pushing myself to succeed in something, has never been my strong suit. If it doesn’t come easily, I get discouraged and quit. But, running has taught me in the past year, to get better at anything, it takes WORK. Lots of it. A better wife. A better Mom. A better photographer. A better Christian. All of these things take DAILY work. So, it was in that moment, that I decided, I am not okay being mediocre. In anything. I want to be the best that I can be. I most likely, will never win a race, but just completely them is more than enough for me. So, I seriously slowed my pace today and was able to chit chat with Natalie during our run, but guess what? I ran two whole miles without stopping to walk, while carrying on a conversation with someone not in my head.
That, my friends, was an accomplishment for me. I can’t tell you the last time I ran through pain, and the thought to stop never crossed my mind.
Of course, I then came home to a daughter who had a MAJOR accident in her bed… to the point she peed through her pull up, which also had poop in it, and she smelled like a homeless person. It stunk up our entire house. I had to wash all her bedding and spray our house and light candles. I kid you not, people. She smelled like a homeless person. We had to hose her down in the shower, which she didn’t care for. AT ALL.
The rest of the morning went smoothly, until, I decided to take out one more bag of trash and I picked up the trash bag and there was standing liquid in the bottom of the trash can. Awesome. Our trash can is now sitting outside after being hosed down. Gross.
I’m hoping that the rest of the day gets better. No one said that motherhood was a glamorous job.
Question of the Day: Those of you that have running partners, do you run with ipods and not talk, do you talk, or what do you do while you run with them?
The moral of this story? Don’t let your husband go out of town for 3 days. Especially when your children are daddys girls.
As most 3 year olds and any child for that matter, Addison is constantly picking her nose. She does it a lot when she is getting embarrassed or trying to avoid doing something. Like, picking her nose is the hardest thing to do in the world and she couldn’t possibly be bothered with picking up her toys because she is doing important work by digging for gold.
John was able to get it out, but I informed Addison the next time we might not be able to get it out ourselves and it would involve a trip to the ER with lots of needles and poking.
I think she understood, but now she has some strange freak out around anyone with a white coat. I don’t know what that is about.
I started with a blank canvas, since I always have those lying around, you could probably do some MDF board though.
I hot glued the edges around the back side of the canvas, but I would have rather done a staple gun, but was out of staples.
Folded the corners down and glued those.
I also hung the coat rack that was from my sister in C’s closet.. oh look. The Duckie bag that was for Addison.. also from my sister. Do we think she loves my girls? I believe that answer is YES.
This is Addison’s bow holder.. she picked out the fabric herself… and she needs some stuff on the sides of it. Not sure what though…
The things she will do for gum. Her toes are healing and I cleaned up all the glass, but… STILL. I guess it’s life with a 3 year old.
I went to the doctor yesterday and had the Implanon implanted into my arm. It is a birth control implant that lasts for 3 years. I’m not going to lie, I was pretty pumped about it. The numbers are good for it, it is progesterone based, so I can continue to breast feed Claire, and I don’t have to worry about taking a pill everyday, which I ALWAYS forget. Seriously… I have a daily alarm to remind me to take my Concerta. So, I get there yesterday and get back into the room and the nurse brings the tray with all the goodies. I looked it over, you know, seeing if I noticed anything from my nursing school days. I saw that it was a sterile procedure. And then I spotted it. The label. Implanon. I read over the outside of it. Then, I turned it over. *GASP* I shouldn’t have done that. The needle was enormous!
This picture doesn’t really do it justice as to HOW BIG the needle actually is. Dr. F came in and I quickly told her what I had done. She said, “Oh no! You shouldn’t have done that. Don’t worry, we numb you up first!” But… numbing “bee stings” freaking hurt too. It didn’t take long and I honestly didn’t feel anything after that, but when the doctor hands to a prescription for Darvocet, it doesn’t ease your mind that it isn’t going to hurt later.
As I was getting ready for bed, I took off my bandage to check how big the hole was, and look what I found!
Look at that bruise!!! Look at the size of the hole in my arm!! It looks a little worse this morning, but it doesn’t hurt. And I can feel the implant in my arm, which feels a lot like Trixie’s microchip that we had implanted in her.
Oh well, at least I don’t have any worries about bringing another red headed princess into our family until we are FOR SURE ready. ‘Cause, let’s face it, I’m not sure my mental state can handle it.
Have you ever had one of those days?
You know the ones.
The ones that start out with you trying to do something different and exciting for your children and then, by the end of the day, you want to put them in a cart at Wal-mart and turn around and run the other way?
Well, I had my second day like that since Claire has been born.
It started out innocent enough. We got up and got ready because Addison was starting gymnastics on Tuesday. I needed her to channel all of that energy somewhere where it was okay for her to run and jump and scream. She loved it. She turned flips on the bar, walked on the balance beam with ease, jumped on the trampoline and just generally got to be a kid who was able to run wild. Since I knew we were already going to be up and on that end of town, I told my sister we would stop by the Breastfeeding Support Group that she does. I got to see some moms that I hadn’t seen in a while and chit chat with other grown ups while my children played. We then, went and ate lunch with John and Poppy. John told me as I was loading the girls up in the car that Addison wasn’t going to take a nap today. I looked at him like he was crazy. She ran around all morning, for goodness sake!
I hate when he is right. She didn’t take a nap. She stayed on her bed for two hours telling me, “I had a good rest, Mama!” She also started this thing where she will NOT poo-poo in the potty. She will wait until bedtime or naptime when we put a pull up on her to poop. And she doesn’t poop once. She poops a little bit and then tells you she has poo-poo. So, you go in and change it. THEN, after you have wasted a pull up, she poops FOR REAL. So, you have to put another pull up on her. We are going through about 45 pull ups in a week. I am ready to pull my hair out, so if you have any suggestions, I am desperate to try them.
Anyway, I wouldn’t let Addison come into the living room with me until Claire woke up from her nap. And Claire was in one of her moods. The one that says, “You have messed up my day by doing something different and I am going to punish you for it.”
I knew that John and I were going to the gym when he got off of work and if I could just make it one more hour, then I could survive, so I loaded everyone up and took them to Wal-mart to get some stuff to finish up some crafts. Of course, Claire wanted a snack and Addison wouldn’t sit down in the cart and was reaching over and try to grab stuff and I was generally frazzled anyway, so by the time we got out of there, I felt like the hunchback because my neck and shoulders were in a pretzel.
I made it through the day and didn’t kill or leave my children anywhere, so I would say it is a success. And they are back to being their sweet and charming selves.
Thank the Lord.