Postscript: Recovery

Everyone is fine.  We're all healthy and breathing normally.  I am eating a great deal and perhaps consuming a bit more wine than usual.  And the week after Bridget went back to school, Lord knows I slept my ass off. (Or ass "on," as the scale may suggest)

I'm still feeling numb about the whole thing, which I think is ok.  Bridget's life was never in danger.  Even in intensive care, the first thing the doctor said was that she would be ok, but she needed a nurse to be able to respond to her instantaneously, which is not possible on the floor.  The only times I had that pit in my stomach was on Tuesday when 5 days in we weren't seeing any improvement and on Wednesday night when Type I diabetes was on the table.

This was not a fun experience.  But this wasn't cancer, cerebral palsy, or Long QT syndrome. We have friends who have these challenges and many of the other families we met at Hemby were dealing with these bigger issues.  I don't ever want to spend another night in the hospital, but emotionally, thank the goddess, we have never been down those other paths.

Still, I expect that we'll have those unexpected shocks to the system like we've had with Christopher over the last year--when he gets a cold, starts wheezing, or starts coughing more than he should. The unexpected part is going to the doctor and NOT being sent to the hospital and the shaking and adrenaline rush I get afterwards. I don't expect to get a jolt of electricity when we go to the doctor and get an OK check up.

Enough of the maudlin stuff.  I cannot stand that part of blogging.  Let's instead talk about how freaking amazing Hemby Children's hospital is.  In our 8 day, the kids had two "parties", a visit from the Discovery center, daily visits from the child life specialists delivering toys, DVDs and books, and two therapy dog visits.

This picture is of Jeff Taylor of the Charlotte Bobcats and two of the Ladycats who came by. Here is a better picture from the official Bobcats folks.  Jeff gave a donation to Hemby for parents to use iPads during their stays there.  I think it was generous both for the donation and to meet Bridget.  It was definitely a highlight of her day.

In fact, this next picture is Bridget showing ZeeZee (her new Zebra) the picture of all of them.  That's one of my favorite pictures of Bridget.  And ZeeZee seems pretty into it, too.  

 The next day, a therapy dog came to visit Bridget.  God bless therapy dogs.  She LOVED meeting this gentle, sweet dog.

In case you are wondering, yes, all of these things make a big difference.  The visits of folks break up the monotony of sitting there and waiting for the next respiratory therapy treatment. Even 10 or 15 minutes is wonderful.  And GOD KNOWS, there is NO SLEEPING in hospitals.  My first time in the hospital 5 years ago, one of the first memories that stands out for me after getting out of surgery is the nurse laughing when I told her that I was tired and just wanted to sleep:  This is a hospital!  You don't get to sleep here!

In any case, we are done with that.  I don't want to be back in the hospital ever again.  Done! Done. Done. Done done done.  

We Are Blowing this Popsicle Stand!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

The first three posts about being in the hospital were mostly written about the first 24 hours of being here. I had that much emotion to process from Bridget’s dramatic arrival into the hospital.

Fortunately, no other day was as dramatic as Friday. Unfortunately, Bridget didn’t really progress from Saturday afternoon until Wednesday afternoon. In fact, on Monday, Bridget took a significant and scary turn back. From NICU and Christopher’s RSV, I’m used to two steps forward and one step back. But after PICU, Bridget didn’t take any steps forward at all. She couldn’t keep her oxygen saturation levels up without a good deal of extra oxygen.  

By Tuesday, Dave and I were getting more concerned. This isn’t our first trip to the pediatrics party and Bridget’s recovery did not seem to be playing out like we expected. However, it was when some of our caregivers started to act more concerned about her lack of progress that we decided to act.

Thank God for Dave.

Dave knows the healthcare system better than I do and probably better than most people do. His family is chock full of medical doctors and other forms healthcare professionals. He works in the healthcare industry and he teaches in UNC Charlotte’s MHA program. He knows the paths to getting things done and the words one should use to get on those paths. I’ll be honest with you: I’m used to getting a bit of respect as a PhD. Nonetheless, it’s hard to look smarty pants to a doctor when you’ve just woken up and you’re in your owl pajamas. I’m just saying.

So I found an ally among our caregivers who started the ball rolling in the background. That brought the right people to our room to check in on us.  And that let Dave say the right words to the right people in the right tone of voice. Also, he was not wearing owl pajamas.

We finally got an explanation of why things may not be progressing: a) perhaps Bridget’s lungs were taking much longer to heal than expected or b) perhaps something worse was starting to develop and surgery may be involved. Option A was more likely, but her lack of progress suggested that Option B was also on the table. Dave asked for a consult with a pulmonologist o.  

The advice we received from our advocates was that we might have pulled the trigger about a day early on the pulmonologist, but it was certainly reasonable at this point to start figuring out why she wasn’t getting better.

Turns out, we pulled the trigger about a day early on calling in the pulmonologist.

Around lunch at Wednesday, Bridget started to turn that infamous corner that everyone had been talking about. But Bridget, being Bridget, didn’t just turn the corner. She peddled furiously around it on her tricked out bicycle at high speed and stuck out her tongue. I may have been running alongside her flipping a couple of birds and otherwise taunting it.  In actuality, she went from 3 liters of oxygen at 10 a.m. to a ½ liter at 4 p.m. That’s an enormous improvement in just 6 hours.

Of course, the pulmonologist arrived at 6 pm on Wednesday. We spent a boatload of money to find out that 1) Bridget had just needed a little more time to let her lungs heal (FIGURED THAT OUT!!) and that 2) normal lung cells have cilia that move massive amounts of dust and other crap up out of your lungs every moment of every day and that you are constantly swallowing said crap (ewww). Further, new lung cells, which develop after pneumonia, do not have cilia so all that crap stays down in your lungs. Hence, you need to cough. Or something like that. Better to have had him there and not needed him than him not be there and we did.

ANYHOO, there was one more curve ball this hospital trip wanted to throw us. And it was so bad, I couldn’t even post about it on Facebook. Wednesday night, when things were looking so much better and it was clear we were going home soon, our doctor ordered Bridget’s IV drip removed. Then she told me they were going to do some additional testing on Bridget in the morning.

Apparently, they found sugar in Bridget’s blood and urine when she checked into the hospital. Although they could explain the sugar in her blood from the steroids, the sugar in her urine was more puzzling. They tested her for diabetes Thursday morning.

Holy. F*cking. Shit. Were we going to come into the hospital with pneumonia and leave with Type I diabetes?!? Have you ever had one of those moments where you know you are supposed to be emotional and yet you are perfectly calm?  That is how I was. I didn’t even turn to Dr. Google. Fortunately, Dave did and sent me a couple of good links for me to read Thursday morning before we got the results.

I’m not going to draw this out: Bridget does not have Type I diabetes. The stress from the steroids and the pneumonia and PICU caused sugar to “spill” out of her kidneys and into her urine. The sugar in her urine is not normal, but nothing was “normal” during that time they were testing her. She does not have diabetes and this is not an early indicator of her getting Type I diabetes. Every time I say that to myself, I let out an enormous sigh of relief. Thank GODDESS no one mentioned this to us until the pneumonia resolved. If I had to be dealing with that issue along with Bridget’s lack of progress, my head would have POPPED off my body and spun around the Pediatrics ward like an over-aged Medusa. 

So the good news: Bridget has been off any oxygen support for 24 hours.  Everything is fine.  Everything is going to be fine. And we are going to go HOME TODAY!!

NICKY, PICKY: FRICKY Ewe (Part 3)

How we got here.

PICU sucks.

There has been unexpected phrased that comes in a close second to “Where did she get that scratch on her forehead?”

It is:  I remember you!

I have run into a lot of people from Christopher’s stay last year and we recognize each other.  The first time, I saw a nurse on Saturday morning and we were both like “I know you.”  I mentioned Christopher. She gave me the sweetest touch on my arm and said “I remember you!” 

A few hours later, our dietary aid dropped off lunch and I said, “I remember you!” and she replied, “Yes, I saw you sleeping in PICU. I didn’t recognize your daughter but I knew you!”  Obviously, she had seen me sleeping with Christopher and my drooling, snoring, wild-haired image had been seared upon her brain.  I remember her because of the outstanding job she did then (and does now) at making sure my children and I have good things to eat.

Monday morning, both our nurse and our respiratory therapist walked in the room and immediately said, “I remember you.”  Our nurse, in fact, remembers amazing details about our family! 

I think I figured out this morning why everyone remembers me so well.  Apparently, I am one of the few parents who sleeps with their sick child in their hospital bed. Last night, I surprised our nurse when she didn’t see me on the sofa and then saw a big lump in Bridget’s bed. Later, when I asked Bridget if she wanted me to move and she cut me a sideways glance that questioned my sanity. 

Speaking of Bridget….

I’ve fallen so in love with her during these last 5 days.  She is an extraordinary child in normal situations. But here, she is so strong and charming, that sometimes I find my heart exploding with love for her.

On Friday, she “won the prize” for being the best intake in the hospital:  she received her IV without any screaming or no crying. She was shocked they did that to her, but she didn't even have tears in her eyes.  My brave little squirrel even had to have another blood draw a few hours later from her other hand and didn’t cry then either. 

In PICU, when they were trying to reposition us to go to sleep, they tried to get her into a more prone than a sitting position.  She was screaming NO!! and hitting at the nurse when I realized that the previous nurse had told her that sitting up straight would help her get better quicker.  She is going to do what she needs to do to get better. 

She has this sly, charming smile when she thinks adults are being silly or are telling her some untruth.  We were watching Madagascar last night, and during the song “I like to move it, move it!”, the nurse started to dance.  Bridget gave her that smile and I swear the woman’s socks just shot right off of her. 

The doctors, nurses, and therapists have been encouraging us to get her moving.  We’ve had to explain to every single one of them that the problem is NOT getting her up and out of bed.  It is that she wants to run the halls right now for the whole day.  They finally let her walk around for just a little bit yesterday, but it was too much.  She pooped out last night and had to go back on major oxygen.  Today, she is not allowed to even walk to the bathroom.

The problem is that she has asthma and pneumonia or asmonia as the PICU docs called it.  The issue is whether the asthma or the pneumonia is worse and when do you treat which one and how since treatment of one (exercise for pneumonia) aggravates recovery in the other (asthma). Bridget apparently has a much worse problem with pneumonia than asthma. We are on Day 5 right now and although she is better than we she went into PICU, she is not progressing.  We are exploring our options on how best to help her out. 

She is tired of being here.  Even a super squirrel like my Snidge can get down. There are two ways I’ve discovered I can help when she gets really upset about being here.  One, we have an ongoing story about Pirate Bridget who sails the seven seas with her six pirate chickens.  Pirate chickens are quite a sight, in case you are wondering.  Two, I tell her what is wonderful about herself and I give examples about why I think that from what she’s done here. It lets her drift off to sleep feeling good about what is going on here and it lets me share with her how much in love I am with her.

NIC, PIC: EFF U (Part 2)

This is how we got here. (Part 1)

We were in our room for only about 4 hours when they started broaching the intensive care option. Bridget, at this point, was on 5 liters of oxygen and couldn’t keep her saturation above 92.  As I learned, at that much oxygen she should have easily been at 100% saturation.  They had also tried albuterol every 1 to 2 hours and nothing was working. 

The mention of intensive care scared me. First, I was under the impression I couldn't spend the night with her, and that was terrifying (for me and Bridget).  Second, intensive care is for sick kids.  Was Bridget really that sick? 

Fortunately, they told me NO ONE was in PICU and hadn't been all week so we could get the one private room in PICU.  And second, they said Bridget would be fine, she just needed focused help to get over this hump.  In fact, by being the only child in PICU, there would be two nurses and one doctor dedicated solely to her. 

Like with the ER decision, I felt the PICU decision was more on the border than it was.  Even as they processed her into her new “room”, they said as much: Maybe she needs to be here and maybe she doesn't, but let’s be safe.  The PICU doc even refused to believe Bridget’s oxygen sats were what they said because Bridget looked so good—pink cheeks and red lips.  She even replaced every piece of equipment they were using to monitor her until she believed Bridget’s lungs sucked in as little oxygen as they did. 

This is where our story takes a negative turn. Until this point, Bridget’s version of a hospital visit was similar to Christopher’s:  some medicine, some inconveniences and a lot of attention.  PICU, on the other hand, was no fun at all.

She had to have continuous albuterol for 14 hours.  This was delivered to her along with her oxygen via a face mask that had to stay on while she slept.  We did not sleep.  It fell off when she rolled over and when she dozed, she pulled it off.  I tried, while I was awake, to put it back on.  The overnight PICU nurse told me that at one point when I slept for 2 hours, he spent 10 minutes hovering over her putting it back on while she whacked at him and the mask in her sleep.

During this night, both Bridget and I also processed our negative emotions.  This is fancy psychology speak for saying we broke down and cried.  I cried quietly.  She did not.  In all honesty, it’s the most upset she’s ever been since she was an infant and was convinced that all adults were idiots. (That has not really changed) She was distraught and scared and angry and uncomfortable and very, very tired. She was nearly hysterical and it was an awful.

The morning was a bit better.  They put her on nasal oxygen, which improved everyone’s mood.  This is her when they  put her back on nasal oxygen. She is a bit puny here.  And one may notice a scratch. I did not get any pictures of her on her full time face mask, because that’s a memory I can let go (to haunt me in my vulnerable times).

   

They also started a chest therapy called The Vest which literally shakes the crap out of her.  Fortunately, this video is only time she hasn’t screamed through it, so I’m glad it caught it.

Note:  This is video of a very sick Bridget in PICU only a few hours after the first picture, yet she looks like a boatload of charm and fun.  She is an amazing girl, isn’t she?

The good news is that she was able to graduate from 4 liters to 2 liters nasal oxygen over the course of Saturday and that scored her a room on the regular floor.  WOO-YAY-HOO!  Things haven't been all rosy since then (except, of course, her cheeks). She's still sleeping at 3 liters of oxygen.  That is not "bad" in that it's dangerous.  But it is not "good" in that they are not going to let her escape from here any time soon.

Part 3

NICU, PICU: F*ck You (Part 1)

While I can have quite salty language in real life, I tend not to use it as much in this blog.  And, indeed, I planned on titling this entry “Well, Crap” when we checked Bridget into the hospital on Friday.  However, we she ended up in PICU (Pediatric Intensive Care) after a few hours, this title phrase stuck in my mind.  It actually became so much of a chant in my head that for the 1 or 2 hours I actually slept Friday night, I dreamed that it was a common, humorous phrase among the intensive care staff and they were delighted that I had figured it out.

I’m pretty sure it is not a phrase among the staff in NICU or PICU. And I want to be clear that any negative sentiments I have about NICU or PICU are about being there and have nothing in this universe to do with the staff.  The strongest positive feelings I have about nurses come from the relationships we’ve developed in our times being there.  These are talented, kind, and often very funny people (they are treating children AND helping parents not freak the freak out, you know).

Finally, if you notice that your child over two years old is breathing more than 40 breaths per minute (Count ‘em!), you need to get your sorry ass to the hospital because your child is VERY, VERY SICK.  It doesn’t matter if her lips aren’t blue or she’s a happy child or she is even playing or you’ve got her fever under control.  Bridget is a very happy, funny, positive, upbeat charming girl with deep pink cheeks and lips and she can charm the socks of everyone—even when she is sick enough to be intensive care.  So this is one time you can count the breaths and ignore the child.

So, now we can start the story.

Thursday, I came home and noticed the big scratch across Bridget’s forehead.  We need to discuss that scratch, because Every. Single. Person we met on Friday asked about the scratch. We don’t know how she got the scratch.  I left for work on Thursday morning, came back Thursday night, and there was a prominent scratch on her noggin that someone who shall remain anonymous BUT IS MY HUSBAND has no idea what happened.  PICU doctor called it a tattoo from Daddy daycare.  Ahem. 

So after determining that the previously unnoticed PROMINENT scratch was of undetermined origins, I noticed Bridget was not doing well.  Her fever was up to 102, she was puny and she seemed to have shallow breathing.  I counted her breaths, and they were hovering a bit above 40.  That is the cut off.  We decided to eat a quick meal and then go to the hospital. She actually ate dinner and afterwards was literally running around the house and played 3 or 4 rounds of hullabalo with Christopher.  Huh, I thought, I must have over-reacted.  

We went to bed and she slept with us as is the norm when someone is sick. (And is usually the norm when they are not, but I won’t mention that)  I heard her shallow breathing and her cracking breaths and thought, should I go to ER right now??  No, she’s sleeping, ER sucks and she seems fine.  We’ll see our pediatrician first thing in the morning.  So I went back to sleep.

There is only one other time I feel more guilty about a decision I made as a mother and that was my miscarriage with Colleen. I do not feel guilty about 7 of my 8 miscarriages.  But the 8^th one is when I went running when I was pregnant with Colleen and her heartbeat was too high and we (I) lost her.  So yeah, not going to the doctor on Thursday night is currently reigning as the second shittiest decision I’ve made as a mother thus far.

Skip to Friday at our pediatrician whom I love.  Bridget’s lungs were “wet and clamped down,” which is apparently very bad.  They gave her two nebulizer treatments at the office, but her oxygen went from 93 to 92 to 89.  Less than 90 is bad.  The doctor suggested a trip to ER for more nebulizers. She suggested that because Bridget looked so good, she probably wasn’t that sick and wouldn’t need to be hospitialized.  But I was concerned we’d end up in the hospital anyway so she checked us in.  (I DID SOMETHING RIGHT! WOOHOO!)

At this point, I still felt like I was over-reacting.  The nurse checked her in and began her intake.  Bridget was still being “Bridget”—lots of energy, laughing, smiling, talking to everyone one, and charming the socks off everyone.

Then the nurse listened to her lungs and said, “Wow. Her lungs are really wet and clamped down.”  Apparently, “wet and clamped down” is not some quirky phrase my pediatrician uses to explain to me what she hears.  It’s apparently a thing, and it is Not Good.  Then they hooked Bridget up to the oxygen saturation monitor, which read 85. 

“WOW,” the nurse said.  “She is a lot sicker than she looks.  Kids don’t look as good as she does as sick as she is.”

It was the first clue that I didn’t over-react by suggesting we skip the ER, and that things were actually pretty bad. 

Part 2 tomorrow.  Sorry to serialize the story , but I am processing a lot emotional poop right now. 

Not Our Healthiest Week

Despite  Christopher's asthma diagnosis in October and Conor's funky fever in December, the kids have been quite healthy this winter.

Then, apparently, came spring.

I really don't mind fevers and viruses.  I can handle those problems.  Even with Christopher's asthma, we have learned how to handle respiratory problems and keep him healthy.  So Christopher kicking off Spring Break with a 102.6 fever is no big whoop-dee-doo except it means we skipped the Easter Egg hunt and Easter Services.

I do not, however, like these two things:
1) fatigue and lethargy (with a fever)
2) rattles/gurgles at end of  an exhale.

Both of those have been pretty strong indicators of pneumonia in our family.

And Christopher's extra long naps over the weekend and his refusal to wake up in the morning were diagnosed with pneumonia on Monday and Bridget's rattling breath on Tuesday night got her the diagnosis on Wednesday.  They are both on antibiotics and Christopher is responding very well.  I'll tell you though: Thank God(dess) bless albuterol.  Monday night, Christopher was hacking up a lung every two hours and within seconds after treatment, he was back to sleep, gently snoring.  Bridget is not doing as well, but she hasn't been on the daily steroids like him, so I'm hoping she turns her corner soon, too.

On Tuesday between the twins' pneumonia diagnoses, I went to the orthopedic surgeon to have an ongoing pain looked at in my foot.  I have enormous feet that were only made larger by the twins' pregnancy.  When I started running back in September, I had no problems, but I failed to change my shoes in time when they wore out, and apparently, the middle bones of my feet have been taking on too much stress and pressure and are irritated.  (Of course my feet are irritated at me)  I thought I had a stress fracture, so I'm thrilled I do not.

And despite having bunions that the PA declared as "impressive," I do not have to have surgery.  And indeed they do not recommend it.  So I will state what those of you who know me in real life must have figured out:  my feet are hideous!  I mean horribly ugly.  Even if they score in the top 99th percentile of big ass bunions to orthopedic surgeons, to the rest of the world: AVERT YE EYES!

I don't care.  I am past being embarrassed about my feet and their horrible misdirected toes. (Hammer Toe!  Da-du-duh-duh. Da-duh. Da-duh. Can't touch this!!) They let me run all over the place and they keep me healthy.  I am completely off high heels and am probably going to be Birkenstocks for the rest of my life, but I CAN and hopefully WILL ALWAYS run. So phhhht on my ugly ass feet.

I've got a boot to wear for a couple of weeks and some strong anti-inflammatory meds and then I'm good to go.  Just don't look below my knees and you won't be scarred for life.

I'm hoping the kids (right now, actually, just Bridget) get their lungs back in order.  After the surprise RSV trip-to-the-hospital for 5 days, I expect the unexpected at the doctors office.  Of course, the unexpected rarely happens, so it is unlikely for us to get to the hospital again (YAY!).  Nonetheless, I still carry that around inside me when they get sick.  I know that like NICU, it will recede.  But it still surprises me when that anxiety over their health and going to the hospital pops up.

Off to snuggle with my squirrel since we both sleep better cuddling each other.

I mean Bridget, not Dave.  ;-)  He's my smoochie muffin, not my squirrel.

On Smart TVs and Less Brilliant Humans

To remove any doubt, I will "reveal" up front that the Less Brilliant Humans in the title are us.

Nonetheless, we've had quite a few neighbors and friends ask us about our ongoing experiment with ditching cable and watching everything online and I have promised a blog entry about it, so here we go.

We got rid of cable and our phone in Fall and have not missed either since then.  Instead, we watch local TV through an antenna, rent and/or buy movies from Amazon Instant Videos, watch other movies and TV shows through Netflix, and if we really want to see something current, we hook up the laptop to the TV and watch shows (for free) through Hulu (not Hulu plus, which costs, but regular Hulu which is free).  We are cheap, so this all works for us.

We have two HD TVs.  One we bought 4 years ago from our TMZ winnings.  This TV was recommended by Consumer Reports Best Buy and we have it hooked up through another Consumer Reports Best Buy Blu-ray device.  We are very happy with the quality  of that TV and the Blu Ray is like WOW as far as detail and clarity.  However, note that we are cheap.  These are the Best Buys, which means 1) they are NOT the best rated and 2) they are not necessarily from Best Buy, they are just the Best Bargain.  The Blue-ray device is key to this whole thing working because it has the internet connections in it.  When one turns it on, there is automatic access to Netflix and through a menu, one can get to Amazon, Pandora, Flickr, games, sports info and all sort of other things we don't pay as much attention to.  It also has Hulu Plus as an option, but see the info about being cheap above; we're only subscribing to one TV service and Netflix works for us.

The second TV is a Smart TV.  We bought that with a small part of our tax refund this year.  It's theoretically the grown up TV, because I can only take so much Fresh Beats Band before my head explodes.  (Side note: this TV is in the front room of the house, the only room of the house that used to always be clean because no one used it.  Now it is used and it is no longer clean.  At least EVERY SINGLE ROOM OF OUR HOUSE IS USED NOW.  And no room is clean!)  So because this TV is "smart", we don't need to Blu-ray to access all the internet stuff.  Netflix, Hulu, Flickr, Amazon, Pandora, and, oddly, a boatload of Fox local news stations from around the country are available on the basic menu of choices.  Also, this is a Best Buy from Consumer Reports, but is actually cheaper than our first TV and the quality...HOLY COW!  It's amazing how much better both the video quality and its ability to get the local TV stations.  I don't see why anyone would want a Smart TV if you have cable.  But if you don't, it's a great idea.

So if we don't have cable, what do we have?  We have the highest speed internet access available.  And most of our devices are running wirelessly (two laptops, iPad, Smart TV) and we are not noticing an access problem.

So for nearly $100 less per month, we like it.

What we do miss is access to ESPN sports.  We can get other big sports events off the local TV, but we no longer have access to ESPN.  We do, ahem, have access to someone-who-gave-it-to-us cable access code, so we can watch ESPN on the iPad and the laptops.  But that would be the big downside for folks who really like ESPN.  And there is the issue of just leaving the TV on for background noise.  I don't do that.  I'd rather have the radio on.  But late at night, when my brain cannot handle thinking, I really miss House Hunters and House Hunters International as something to put on and enjoy but not think about.  For some reason, I don't want to put on any of my netflix TV shows unless I can sit down and actually watch them.  (Or actually, I watch them when I'm doing elliptical at the gym. I'm working my way through Parenthood right now)

So there.  I'd love to hear your solutions and strategies to save money and still be mindlessly entertained by TV!

Part of the Craziness of Life with Twins

Here is a video I took last night of PART of our family.  I wanted to capture Fred playing with his tail, which is adorable, and then it just went crazier from there.



Highlights:
*Christopher dancing in his princess dress
*Bridget rushing to get her princess dress to dance, too.
*Christopher bringing out the popcorn popper toy
*Bridget's dress being very funky
*Patches wanting to get in the video, too

All the while, Fred is alternately chasing his tail and cleaning his face, and, um, another part.

I will add that last night, I amused myself when at 12:30 Christopher showed up to hop in bed with us.  I never anticipated that I would be saying to any of my children, "Take off your princess dress before you get in bed with us."

How the twins wake us up

in the middle of the night....

The Kittehs

Twin kittens are much easier than twin human beings.

That may be obvious to some, but I want to make it clear to all.  Further, I realize that I am functioning as a mother to 3 human children, one dog, three cats, and six chickens.  Fortunately, I am wife to only one man--THANK GOD(dess)--but I am the mother of 13. There's something in the hierarchy of domesticated animals that identifies a mother-figure and for our animals, I am it.

Generally, it is fine.  Although the kitty wrestling match on my booty at 1 am is annoying.  And funny!  I reached over to pull George off my booty and accidentally scared him into the cat-leap-of-fear, which actually woke Dave up and made him giggle.

That is the unexpected and really fun part about the kittens.  After having children and seeing them go through their developmental stages, I have come to appreciate much more the developmental firsts for the kittens:  attacking toes under the blanket for the first (or 57th) time, chasing in circles the long furry thing that stalks behind them wherever they go, leaping when there is a sudden movement, deciding to wrestle/bite/lick/nap in repeated cycles with each other, and generally being the best TV show we have.  

The kittens have been the easiest addition to the family that we've made.  Indeed, I'd put the twin kittens on one side and the twin humans as anchors on either side of the Difficulty Scale of Growing the Family.

Yes, even though knitting has taken on new challenges, I am so happy I played my Crazy 8 and got those kittehs.  Now if we can just figure out how to keep Bridget from literally loving them to death.

Lenten Lessons

I gave up Facebook for Lent this year.  I normally don't observe any "fasting" for Lent as I am not Catholic and it certainly wasn't a big tradition in our family.  But since becoming involved in our new Church four years ago, I've started. Last year I gave up cheese, and let me share with you that Easter Brunch last year was delightfully heavy on the cheese.

So far, I've learned two Lenten Lessons.  First, giving up FB was a lot easier than I expected at the beginning.  The reasons I gave up FB is that I spend a lot of time on it during the day, just jumping on and off to see what is going on.  I thought it would be good for me to use that time doing other activities.  What I've ended up using that time for is Twitter, so it's not really a time savings.

However, after a few days, I realized that what I really missed about FB was hearing how everyone was doing.  I thought I'd miss the feedback I receive on my status updates (likes, comments, behind the scenes emails), and trust me, on Twitter I am getting NONE OF THAT!  It's like throwing out bon mots to an empty forest, where trees are falling left and right but no one is responding to my tweets.

Instead, what I really miss is hearing what everyone else is doing.  What would happen if someone had a birthday and I didn't get to tell them Happy Birthday.  What about X's job?  Y's mom who is sick?  Z's relationship?  What funny or sad or interesting things am I missing from my friends.  I feel LONELY but not because no one is paying attention to me, but because I don't get to pay attention to them.  (((frowny face))

The second lesson I've learned is lesson is FEAST DAY!!!  Lent represents the 40 days Jesus fasted in the wilderness (I believe).  If we include all the Sundays from Mardis Gras to Easter, it's actually 46 days.  So Sunday is a feast day in which we get to enjoy that which we've given up. WOOHOO!  I did hop onto FB as soon as I got home from Church last Sunday to feast on my friends' status updates.

The real lesson, however, comes from my realization that I always think that God(dess) is much more severe and strict that s/he really is.  Richard Rohr says that if we would call the police on a neighbor who treated his/her children as severely and with so much punishment as we think God does, we need to rethink our understanding of God and his/her relationship with his/her children.

A Feast day!  Of course!  Forgiveness and sacrifice and openness to learning on a journey. How wonderful is that?

I don't like to talk about my spirituality on my blog, even though it is very important to me.  The main reason is that many Christians in their effort to be "Christ like" can be discriminatory and sometimes even hateful. (Or as we say in the south, they can act ugly.)  And sometimes by focusing on the goal of getting to heaven, they forget about the really important work of creating peace and justice right now on this earth.

My God isn't like that.  And I am happy to have found a church that believes in and encourages diversity in all forms (open to all and closed to none); we have important and active LGBT members of our church and it  was honestly this that made clear this was the church for us.

Our church also fully expects that there will be conflict between members as we all figure out our different beliefs in God and Christianity.  The local newspaper calls our church "liberal," which I think is simplistic.  We are definitely not conservative; there were lots of Obama stickers around our church on any Sunday in the last 5 years. But there are plenty of Republicans, libertarians, and even Tea Party folks sitting in the pews and working at the Room In the Inn with the Democrats in our church.  And even though the woman who started Planned Parenthood in our city is a founding member, there are plenty of other choices among members, also.

I like our church a lot. I would like to talk about it more, without always having to add the caveat that we are different than other churches and it is actually kind of a cool place to hang out and grow and do right in this world.  So there.  Caveat added.  I will link back to this post again should I ever need/want to discuss my spirituality.

Until then, THREE DAYS TO FEAST DAY, BABY!!!!  I will also have a glass of wine.  ;-)

Homemade Yogurt

Since I have become an evangelist for homemade yogurt in the real world, I've decided to create a blog post for my online world about how easy it is to make yogurt.  We've been making our own yogurt for about 8 months now. We've had mostly successes and a few failures and have learned a few tricks along the way to make it easy for this full time working mother of 3 to make homemade yogurt several times a week.

So the basic procedure:
1)  Bring 1/2 gallon of milk nearly to a boil
2)  Let it cool off
3)  Add a "starter" of previously made yogurt
4)  Let it sit for about 12 hours until you have yogurt

Honestly, it is that easy: (nearly) boil, cool, starter.  People have been making yogurt for nearly 4,000 years.  Seriously. During that time, people have made a lot of mistakes.  (Well, at least I have in my last 8 months) And yet there has never been the great Yogurt Death of 2400 BC. Or 800 AD.  Or 2012. Millions have people have made yogurt, and you can, too!  Plus, call me ethnocentric: you are on the computer, you drive a computer and probably have a smart phone.  Plus, you easily understand what zero is, which at one point was revolutionary among the greatest mathematical minds. You are smarter than the people from 4000 years ago and YOU CAN MAKE YOGURT.

So here is some additional information until this process turns into "(nearly) boil, cool, starter."

1)  We heat our milk in the microwave in a glass bowl covered with a glass plate because the clean up is a boatload easier than doing it on the stove.  Cleaning a pot of milk heated on the stove sucks.  There is no clean up of heating milk in a glass bowl.

Milk in glass Bowl

2)  You want to bring the milk to over 180 degrees to kill any bad stuff and make something good/funky happen to the milk proteins.  (See the history of yogurt)  This really means, get to boiling but not quite.  However, if you step away and/or forget what you are doing and the milk comes to a rolling boil, that is still ok.  You can still make yogurt and you should. It just won't be as smooth.

3)  We microwave our yogurt on high between 12 and 13 minutes depending on which glass bowl we are using.  You can use an instant read thermometer to check the temp to get over 180.

4)  We let the milk cool uncovered for between 50 minutes and a hour to get back down to 110 degrees.  This is cool enough to stick your finger in the milk for 10 seconds so it doesn't hurt but it still feels hot.  I got that trick from Make the Bread, Buy the Butter.

5)  Add between 1/4 and 1/2 cup yogurt with active cultures.  This can be from a previous batch or a batch you've bought from the store of plain yogurt.  The more starter you add, the quicker the current batch thickens up.  I just put in about 1 cup of starter because I want a big batch for tomorrow and there wouldn't be enough leftover for my breakfast yog AND to make the next batch.  So I just added it all.

Starter Yogurt in the other glass bowl we use

6)  Now it's time to let your yogurt, um, yogurt-ize.  In the summer, we just covered it and let it sit on the counter for 12 hours.  In the fall, we started wrapping it in a towel to let it stay warm more easily.  In the winter, after a couple of way-too-water-y yogurts, we started wrapping it in a towel and putting the bowl in the oven, which has been ever so briefly warmed at the lowest temperature we could go.  We turned the oven on the lowest temperature (170) until it preheated and then turned it off.  The whole point was to get it warmer than room temperature before we put the yogurt in.

Wrapping the yogurt in a towel

7)  You can let the yogurt sit longer than 12 hours.  I've seem some advice to let it sit for 18 hours if you want it to be thicker and I accidentally let it sit for 22 hours the other day and we didn't die after we ate it.  Remember:  4000 years of yogurt making.  Mistakes have been made and things still turned out ok.  I think there must be a wide margin of error on yogurt making for it to have survived this long.

8)  For me, I think it's ready when there is some liquid on the top of the yogurt (the whey) and the rest of the yogurt looks solid-ish.  If the yogurt and whey not separated, we let it sit a little longer.  If it's longer than usual, I think it means you're yogurting at a lower temperature or not enough starter, so hang loose and weight a bit more.

12 hours later....

9)  We pour off the whey, save it in the fridge and use it in our next batch of homemade bread.  When we first started making yogurt, it was still a bit more liquid-y than the store but we were ok with that. (Remember, there are stabilizers in store bought yogurt)  Now that I wrap it in the towel and put in the oven, it's pretty solid and has the same thickness as store bought yog.

We've poured off the whey

10)  To make Greek yogurt, drain your yogurt in some cheesecloth for a couple of hours.  You will get a TON of whey and yummy, creamy, tasty, CHEAP Greek yogurt.

11)  We use non-fat yogurt because I am trying to lose weight, but you can use whatever you'd like.

12)  Once, I let it cool too much and there was a skin of milk on the top.  I didn't take it off before I started the yogurtizing process and there were some gross, plastic-y bits in the yummy, creamy bits of the yogurt.  Now I take the skin off if there's a lot of it.

So that is it.  You have all the detailed information that I have gained out of our "(nearly) boil, cool, starter" cycle.  If you have any additional questions, leave them in the comments and I will update this post.  It still feels like magic every time I make yogurt.  If you can boil water, you can make yogurt.  And yet we pay TONS more than we need to by buying all this yogurt in the store!!  I did a little math last night and using 2 quarts/week of yogurt, saving $5/week (at least), we're saving well over $260/year.  Just saying.

I am the yogurt evangelist!  Get thee to the microwave and start your own (nearly) boil, cool, starter cycle now.

UPDATE:  A friend has found that leaving the oven light on keeps the oven temp at 110 degrees, the perfect yogurtizing temperature!!

Updated Update: We have changed  what we do.  Microwave 13 minutes. Cool for 60 to 75 minutes.  Add 1/4 to 1/2 starter.  Put  in oven with light on, no towel for  at  least 16 hours  (usually noon until 6 am next day, so I  can't  really do  math).  No draining and thick, greek yogurt.

Updated Update to the Update: To make the perfect Greek yogurt, we use this strainer:

This and That: Part 72

Well, the name of the blog is "This, That, and the Mother Thing" so I'm going to assume that occasionally, I get to write about This and That without having a particular theme.

The Kittens
(((sigh))) It is so nice to have kittens around the house again.  As Conor says, they are our favorite television show.  We will all stop what we are doing (eating, talking, eating) and watch them wrestle across the floor or attack any of the zillion squinkies that have shown up in our house.  Conor (who has lots of thoughts about the cats) says the cats think the squinkies are their mortal enemies.  They carry around the house, drop them in their water dishes, throw them up in the air and swat them, and generally run across the floor attacking them.  All those cat toys and it's squinkies the cats love.

As for the children's reactions, Conor loves the cats and the cats love him.  Christopher does not love the cats and the cats are not all that into him.  Bridget looooooooooooves the cats and the cats are scared to death of her. Indeed, Bridget loves the kittens much like Katie loves the Kittens (a youtube video that explains what I mean). Generally, at any point that Bridget is awake, we'll hear a kitten howl and Bridget will be hugging/holding/loving the cat nearly to death.  Explaining to Bridget that she is hurting the kittens does not seem to help Bridget's ability to control herself.  Time outs also do not work.  Hovering supervision is the only method that works right now and that's not really a practical option.

We also had a bit of a scare with George.  First, we figured out that his leg had been badly broken and poorly healed during his time with his first family.  At one point, the doc thought we might have to amputate it.  And perhaps we will in the future.  But for now, he is managing to run and play and not use it very much.  Yes, he rarely uses it to walk and never to run, and when he does the cat version of the downward facing dog yoga stretch , he basically just sticks his bad paw forward. :-(  But he is happy and we are happy to have him.

Our love for him became even more painfully obvious when we thought we had lost him last Friday.  He apparently took a deep nap somewhere and did not hear our entire family and another adult and child search for two hours for him.  We had already even put out the FB lost pet announcement and the missing posters around the neighborhood thinking he had escaped when I got the mail.  When he finally emerged from that big nap, our shouts of joy and hugs and kisses scared the crap out of him and he ran and hid again.  I was happy to see him; I had been really upset that our little, sweet, ball of gray fur was missing.  It is crazy how quickly these guys come to mean something to the family.

Speaking of Television
And I was, up there at the beginning of this post.  We gave up cable TV several months ago and honestly, have not missed it at all.  When I say "gave up cable TV," I mean we no longer have any channels through cable.  We can pick up a few channels through our antenna, but otherwise, goose egg.  We also gave up our land line.  Why?  How about $150 savings per month, give or take. We kept the highest speed internet access they have. And for $7.99 a month, we've got streaming Netflix so we can watch all the TV shows you've already watched a year or two after you've watched them.  But as working parents, we're not really watching a lot of TV anyway.  And a bonus is that I discovered my local YMCA has WiFi and I can watch Netflix (e.g., Downton Abbey) while I'm on the elliptical.  Which is fantastic, except during the poignant moments when I get teary or the funny parts where I laugh out loud. I should be embarrassed, yet. . . .

Speaking of TV shows, I could use some recommendations for series you particularly like.  Unfortunately, only season 1 of Downton Abbey is on US Netflix and I'm too cheap to get another service.  (Too cheap vs. too poor.  Feel free to make your own call on that one)  And I don't want to watch any series that is too "adult."  I am doing this at the Y, so I would actually be mortified if a naked person appeared on my screen in the midst of my exercising peers.  Even Downton Abbey is a little heavy at 7 am in the bright shining morning. Adult drama a weird way to start the day, but I'm willing to move beyond Shaun the Sheep. So now, while I appreciate my friend's suggestion for her new favorite TV Show, Breaking Bad, there is no way in h-e-double-hockey-stick that I'm watching that at the Y at 7 am.  Feel free to suggest some (other) TV series you really like.

Losing More Weight
Finally, I'm still in the process  of losing more weight.  I took some time off the diet/exercise trail over the holidays and it took a while to get back in the groove.  However, a couple of life lessons here.  I cannot weigh what I want to weigh without exercising and paying close attention to what I eat...FOREVER. (Calorie needs plummet when you get older.  YOWSA!)  I really like to eat.  And those of you who can restrict what you eat to be skinny amaze me.  I am not that person.  And when I say exercise, what I really mean is running or elliptical or swimming or yoga for an hour or more.  I know all the research that says that you only need to exercise 20 minutes or so, but that is not me. Plus, the 20 minutes or so is what you need for heart health.  For weight loss, it needs to be much, much longer.

Also, I finally have confirmation about my suspicions about calories and running.  It's not how fast you run, it's how long you run in terms of miles.  As long as you are not walking (i.e, your pace is under 14 minutes/mile), it doesn't matter if you run 5 miles at a 8 minute pace or 5 miles at a 12 minute pace, you burn the same amount of calories, in my case, 500 calories.  While I'd love if my pace got back down to what it was 10 years ago (and I could add another mile into my hour long run; 100 more calories a day to eat!), I'm happy to be out there running again and getting back into shape.  Also, running on the treadmill has little to do with road running, so get your booty outside and do some miles.

I still have about 10 to 15 more ellbees to go.  I was planning to be there by April 1.  I don't think that's going to happen, but I am still ok with that.  It's finally coming off and I am not suffering too much to make it happen.

So those are the three blog posts that have been rolling around my head this month. I actually hate reading long blog posts, so read one section a day for three days and the writing will be much more Interesting!! and Brilliant!!!  Or not.  :-)

The Inauguration

Yes, I promised to write up about our trip to Obama's second inauguration and here goes.

First thing: GO TO AN INAUGURATION.  WoW!  That was fun! And we didn't actually attend the inauguration out on the lawn; we saw it in a warm and cozy office on an enormous, flat-screen TV with like-minded other folks.  But more on that later.  Let me tell you why I think you should go:  lots of energy and live events the public can go to; political celebrity sightings in close quarters; and just being part of what you know is history.

So here are the things I'd advise you to do.

1)  We stayed at a condo in DC.  My friend found one (through her magical ways) and six of us shared it (except an absence or two due to the flu).  At approximately one mile from the capitol, it was within walking distance to nearly everything we went to.  Last time, my friend has stayed in the 'burbs and did not have as much fun as this time.  So bring a group and stay in the city.

2)  You probably know folks who live in and around DC.  Another cool thing about going to DC is hooking up with friends in the area.  I got to see some of our UNC Charlotte I/O alumnae and feel especially cool hanging out with them.  (Our condo was in a trendy/transitional spot near where none of my friends live, so I am very grateful for them arriving by cab/metro/boyfriend to see me!)

3)  There are a TON of affordable events for the public (besides balls) in which you can meet and interact with like minded other folks.  They were a little pricey, but being the very cheap women that we were/are, we also had drinks and meals at them.  Our first reception was for the Council for a Livable World, where we met interesting folks and heard brief talks by Senators Martin Heinrich,  Angus King, Bernie Sanders, and Tammy Baldwin (!).  The really nifty thing is that this same group hosted viewing party the next day for the inauguration for which snacks were provided.  (I work at a university, you see.  We rarely get snacks and when we do, it's a big deal.  Hence my inordinate excitement for snacks at events)  We went to the 21st Century Democrats reception that night and, in one of those small world encounters, a) saw some of the same people from the morning reception and b) found out we have connections with them through our work.


4)  Visiting the memorials during an inauguration weekend is very moving.  We went to the new MLK memorial.  It was packed!!  We saw a swarm of people at the base of the memorial as we walked up and thought, Wow!  It must be very moving!!  Then we heard that Chris Tucker and Jamie Foxx were in the center of that swarm.  So, no, we didn't see them, but we saw the swarm of people around them and we saw their car as they drove off.  Nonetheless, we count that as our Hollywood Celebrity sighting. Generally, the MLK memorial is pretty awesome.  It was also cool seeing all his quotes and realizing that our church is founded on many of the same beliefs.  We also saw the Lincoln Memorial, WHICH IS HUGE, and the Vietnam Memorial which continues to be overwhelming.


5) You should generally be very careful walking around in fake Uggs (Fuggs) watching the little blue arrow move on your smart phone map as you navigate the sidewalks of DC.  Otherwise, unless you are more coordinated and graceful than I (WHICH IS NOT THAT HARD), you could trip and fall and injure your knees and hand.  I'm sure, however, that like me, you will not damage the phone you were holding. Just a word of caution, torn pants and bleeding knees does not make one feel particularly professional or "fancy" at a DC political reception.  Also, HOLY COW my hand still hurts. I had it xrayed on Wednesday and two doctors could not find a fracture, but OOOOOOWWWWWWW it hurts.  Anybody who has info on that should let me know.

So that is it, folks.  Go!  Make your own memories at an inauguration.  It's a pretty cool thing to do.

Playing A Crazy Eight

When Dave and I got engaged, we decided that each of us had four "Crazy Eights."  For us, this means that we can make a big(ish) decision on our own that the other person has to go along with--very much like changing the suit in the game of Crazy Eights.

So far, I used one to move from Los Angeles to Charlotte, NC.  Dave used one to go on a very, very expensive ski vacation with some guy friends of his.(So expensive that we've never spent that much money on a family vacation with all five of us).

This weekend, after 10 years of marriage and 12 years of being together, I played my second Crazy Eight:  We adopted 2 kittens from a local shelter.

We had been planning on getting kittens, but were hoping that our 20.5 year old grandmother cat would, um, "go to college" before we got any more animals.  But she is doing FANTASTIC, despite being absolutely in the midst of kitty dementia. She eats well, pees and poos in the right place, and purrs like an engine when we give her lovin's.  She howls at the shower, but she's had an issue with my bathing her whole life, so there may be some sort of deep rooted issue there.

In any case, she's not going anywhere soon.  And none of our children have ever been around a baby animal.    Well, yes, the chicks last year.  But they grew up so quickly!  And they don't really live in the house.  AND I MISS KITTENS.

So on Friday, a friend of mine liked a picture on Facebook.  This picture featured animals from a local shelter who were going to be euthanized on Tuesday (today, I'd like to add).  The first picture was a very cute grey tabby kitten.  I looked.

I saw that he had a very cute solid grey brother.  I really like adopting litter mates: They play together; they love on each other.  And I knew they were going to be euthanized in 4 da.ys.  It seemed like the stars were aligning for us to adopt these little kittens 

I called Dave.  We discussed.  He had said he was open to a kitten sometime in the future.  But I thought the time to act was now.  So I played my eight.

And now we have Fred and George Weasley!

Fred is the grey tabby and the fearless instigator.  He started purring the moment we picked him up in the shelter.  George is the solid grey one, who was quite shy in the shelter and for most of the first day home.

But by the time I took them in for their first vet check up today, they were both secure and frisky.  They were wrestling each other across the examination room floor while I was talking to vet about how things were going.  (Summary:  very well).


And I'm so glad the children get a chance to grow up with baby animals, too.  Already they have learned important information about cats.

1)  Cats get carsick and it is pretty smelly.  Also, the sound of a cat retching is distinct.
2)  When cats are happy and secure, their tails are up high in the air.  When they are scared, their tails go straight out and are flat.  The first time George's tail went up and the air and stayed up there was a moment of great celebration among the children.
3)  Purrs are beautiful.  Cat toots are not.
4)  Our dog Patches is a wonderfully smart dog who would not hurt other animals, despite being very jealous of them.  Also, giving the dog a treat every time you interact with a new animal?  GOOD IDEA!
5)  We could have had a Sophie's Choice moment at the shelter. Fred and George had a litter mate when we were looking through the pictures.  I told Conor about him and Conor wanted to know what would happen to him if we only adopted Fred and George.  I told Conor.  We both worried.  And we both cheered when we arrived at the shelter and the litter mate had already been adopted.  Discussions about the importance of spaying and neutering were also involved.
6) Nighttime cat snuggles are some of the best snuggles around.  And even with a family of 5 and the bedtime bingo that we play most nights with who sleeps where and with whom*, it's awfully nice to have a cuddly, furry, purr ball next to you when you go to sleep.

So there you go.  We are pretty excited to have the new additions to our family.  As I thought about it this morning, with a geriatric cat, a dog, an 8 year old, TWINS, and chickens, cats really don't take up much room.  And the effort to love ratio is pretty much in our favor.  YAY FOR US!

I think playing this Crazy Eight was worth it.

*That sounds a lot worse than it really is!

My Butt

Now that's an attention grabbing title, amiright?

Yes, well, it's been eventful around here and much of my attention has been focused on shrinking my booty.  After the twins started eating real food in real amounts and breastfeeding, oh, 2 years ago, I put on some serious Ell Bees.  (Think about that for a second and it will make sense)  Apparently, I could eat everything I want and weigh a normal amount while bfing twins, but when they stopped, I just kept eating.  Not a good idea to keep one's weight under control.

I ended up putting on 15 lbs in about 3 months.  And it aged me about 10 years.

I tried losing some of the weight with weight watchers and exercising sporadically, but it did not work.  What did work was Bridget sleeping through the night (and no longer wailing for me anytime I left the bed).  This allowed me to start regularly exercising in the early morning.  YAY!  And I also started tracking my calorie consumption through LiveStrong.Com.  Yay.  I actually LOVE LiveStrong because it has a great database of foods and so far, everything I've entered has been on it.  But, you know, yay.  I'm eating less food and drinking little wine.  Woo. Hoo.  But I'm losing weight, so Yay!!

NONETHELESS, (and it's not a blog story until there is a "nonetheless"), I have been surprised during the last three months about some folks' reaction.

First, there were quite a few  "Well, good for you!!!!!" reactions when I shared I was starting to run again.  And yes, they did use all those exclamation points.  For the folks who knew me BC (Before Conor), I was a very athletic, very thin woman.  Very athletic in that I ran lots of marathons and even placed or won my age group in 5K races.  Very thin in that at one point, my friends staged an intervention because they were concerned that I had an eating disorder.  I did not, but I was too thin at that point.  And even for years and years and years after that, I was still reasonably on the thin side.  

But most of these folks have only known me after I'd become a mom and many of them after I'd had the twins, and, well, when my pants fit better when I put them on backwards.  It was just surprising to me how surprised they were that I could possibly even consider running and losing weight. (Especially since when I was in shape, I would have been able to run their sorry asses down and smack them in the head)  More politely, I kept wondering how they could not see the skinny girl trapped inside this overly jiggly body. 

And the skinny girl is still not free.  I have 15 more Ell Bees to go until she can shake free of these bonds.  And I really don't have any plans to lose the 25 or the 35 more Ell Bees to get to my VERY skinny state.  It's too much work, and I'm pretty sure I'd still be dealing a great deal of twin skin that's flapping around my midsection and I don't have the money to have that removed.  

But I'm running.  And I love it.  I was athletic for all of my life BC.  So I'm back to doing what makes me very happy.  My pace is pathetic, but I don't really care.  I'm able to get an hour run in at 5:30 in the morning.  I'm having a hard time getting in long runs; based on Dave and I dividing morning responsibilities, I'm doing my long runs on Friday mornings.  And even starting at 5:00, I can only get 1.5 hours in before I need to be back helping the kids get ready for school.  And while, BC, 1.5 hours would have been close to 10 miles, let's just say it's not now. And I don't really want to get up at 4:00 in the morning to get a 10 mile run in on a Friday.  So, maybe I'll do two 1.5 hour runs during the week?  THINK OF ALL THE FOOD I COULD EAT!!!

Ahem.  Anyhoo....

I've still got a ways to go, but I am glad to be back to where I was and I hope to be back to where I was before in a couple of more months.  And I'm definitely glad to see less of my butt.  

The Camping Bug

So we were bitten by the camping bug this weekend, and, fortunately, that is not literal statement.

The odd thing is that this wasn't a "perfect" camping weekend:  Dave and I were dehydrated Friday night (a bit too much wine and WAY too little water; I see why beer is the preferred camping drinky-pooh) and a couple of pretty big storms on Saturday night/Sunday morning should have made us less enthusiastic about camping.

But that is not what happened.  Instead, we spent most of Sunday night searching for tents and camp cooking supplies.  Check our Amazon wish lists, should you want to contribute to our new family hobby.

So why so much fun?  Well, the kids were crazy excited.  And they are way into nut collecting now, so at one point there were 100 nuts stored in our borrowed tent's mesh pockets.  And there was a big rock by our campsite that Conor immediately climbed and didn't come down until he had to go to bed.

My brother and sister-in-law came with us and served as camp mentors (otherwise, I would have had no idea about heating the water on the camp stove to wash dishes).  There was also the 8 year old twin boys with whom Conor became best buds and constantly stalked us over the big rock.

There was the day trip to the zoo in which we fed the giraffes, a pretty dadgum amazing experience.

There was the fire and the roasting of hot dogs and s'mores.

And then there was the storm.

Just a few things here.  First, weather.com and accuweather?  If you think what happened Saturday night was a 30% chance of .04 inches of rain (respectively), we need to review probabilities and measurement.  My brother kept citing the NOAA prediction, which I pooh-poohed.  When from about 12 to 1, it began to rain steadily and with vigor, I realized the sky was pooh-poohing on me.  We stayed dry, though, until 1ish, when the rain started coming down hard.  Water started spritzing into the tent. Occasionally, a big drop would plop on our heads, but it was mostly just spritzing in the tent.

Dave and I debated spending the rest of the night in the car. Then I remembered my cell phone and checked the radar. We were at the end of the storm and there was nothing anywhere between us and Nashville.  OK, I thought.  A few more minutes and we'll be fine for 6 or 7 hours, if that storm even comes over the mountains. We waited a few minutes, the rain stopped, and all was fine. As I was falling asleep, I started doing a little math, because that is what I do, and realized that the next round of rain, should it come, would arrive around breakfast. Fine....zzzz..zzz.zzz.zz.

When I woke up at 6:50 everything was still fine.  Dawn was starting to break, and it was brisk but we were all warm in our sleeping bags.  I thought, well, hey, let me go ahead and check the radar to see if that storm is anywhere close.

And that's when I saw an enormous swath of red and yellow just to the west of us and heading east.

"DAVID!!! We've got ONE HOUR, and then we're going to get a BIG ASS STORM! EVERYBODY UP!"

I ran down to tell my brother and SIL, and then headed back to our camp to bug out. (That's a phrase that we campers use that means pack up and get the heck out of dodge) That's, of course, when the whining began.  The kids didn't want to get out of their warm sleeping bags to get dressed.  Blah, blah, blah blah-dee blah.  After so many years, it's not effective.

It's not effective, that is, until one hears one's spouse say "Oh, Conor!  Oh, no!!"

Conor wasn't just cold:  Conor was sopping wet.  While the rest of us had just been spritzed with water, he had been soaked.  Apparently the rain fly had just directed all the water through some seam and onto our son.  His clothes were so wet, he might was well had been standing out in the rain storm.  And he had slept that way for 6 hours in 50 degree temperature.

Shitty parents of the year award!  We win!!

We still had to convince him to take off his wet clothes in the cold and put on dry ones and that took entirely more time and energy than it should have. But fine.  We got him taken care of, got the rest of the family taken care of and, with the help of the rest of the adults, got the gear stored mostly neatly in all the right places.

Dave put the last thing, the tent, into the back of the van, got into the driver's seat.  "I just felt a raindrop," he said. And indeed, by the time we pulled the van out of the camp site, it started raining. And by the time we pulled out of the campground, it was crazy raining. 1 hour and 10 minutes after I checked the radar, we packed up and that big ass storm started.

Maybe it was all that drama at the end, but we were cheering and hooting as we pulled out of camp.

So, uh, yeah. That is apparently what my family thinks is fun.  We cannot wait to do it again. Chickens. Camping. Craziness and fun.  That is apparently how we roll.

Asthma

I saw a friend over the weekend and we were talking about how well written Julia's blog Here Be Hippogriffs is. I particularly like how she can come up with a turn of a phrase which is unique but right on what she is trying to explain. "Yes," my friend pointed out, "she spends a lot of time on her writing and working on her craft."

Alas, I do not have that time.

I would love to spend hours on each blog post.  Or, actually, I would love to live a life in which I had a couple of extra hours a day to spend crafting an informative and witty blog post that would thrill and inform my readers.  As someone who has recently started running at 5:30 am (again) I am fully aware that we choose to spend time on what we want to do.  And it's obvious, I don't spend time on cleaning my house and probably spend too much time on facebook.

Nonetheless, I don't have enough time to write as much and as well as I'd like here.

What I NEED, however, from this blog, is a space to work through pressing issues in my brain so I can process them, get them out, and move on.  Indeed, I want to work through my evolving feelings about my body, now that I'm done with childbearing, but have an extra 15 to 25 lbs on me.  (The difference depends on how ambitious or pitiful I'm feeling in my goals at any one time)  I want to work through the fact that our house IS A MESS, and I cannot figure out how to keep the mudroom clean (ironically!) much less the rest of the house.  The mudroom is the goal because it's the smallest room in the house.  I can't even keep the extra shoes picked up off the floor in there.  There's lots evolving in our lives and that has been what I've been cogitating on for this blog post.

And then, Christopher went ahead and finally got his diagnosis of asthma, and I'm sort of cogitating on that.  We've known it's been coming.  As I pointed out to Dave, when Christopher got his first respiratory illness around 7 months old or so and was suffering from massive eczema, asthma started coming up.  (But the doctor said he was too young to have allergies, blahda blahda blah, yeah I was right).  Then last winter's horrible RSV hospitalization, all the docs and nurses kept saying, "You're on the path to asthma."  And I'm pretty sure there were a couple of other pneumonias and ear infections in there in which folks kept saying "Asthma, meet Christopher.  Christopher, meet Asthma."

And thank goodness for friends and colleagues as well as relatives who have been with us down this path and have let us know what to expect.

I'm actually not really feeling anything right now.  I don't know if I'm supposed to be upset or neutral.  I'm glad we FINALLY got a sheet from the doctor about what to do with asthma (green light, yellow light, red light) and have a referral to a pulmonologist.  (Really?  Blogger spell check wants to change pullmonologist to Kremlinologist? Really?) I'm also reassured that the doctor said I was intuitively doing the right thing before I even got my green/yellow/red state check list.  (We were in a Yellow State)

I think we finally got the diagnosis today because there is no other underlying reason for Christopher's wheezing.  He doesn't have a virus-that-has-progressed-into-lung-funk, pneumonia or RSV.  The wheezing seems to be pretty independent of anything else.

And people, here is one thing you really need to know about lung sounds and when to worry:

If you hear gurgling/funky sounds when a child breathes,

1) If it's when s/he begins to exhale, it's probably snot and there's nothing you can do.
2) If it's at the END of the exhale, it is wheezing and you need to do something.

The first gurgling sound is the louder one and sounds awful.  But it's the last one, sometimes quite soft, that's the bad one.

Anyhoo.  He's sleeping now and I had a few free minutes.  I can think about this and think about this.  Or I can get it out and move on to doing what I really need to do.