Adventures in Juggling

Opi Siberian Nights that is.

I’m just getting prepped for a Saturday night on the town in a hot black cocktail dress, sexy new shoes and on the arm of my man. Unfortunately, when you are a juggling mom of five it takes more than a day to put it all together.

Bill says I’m worth it and that’s all that really matters.

We interrupt the usual narcissistic musings to send a message to all my colleagues working in the ED/ER.

When you call the NICU to come help start an IV on a “baby”

*baby usually means a chubby munchkin somewhere between the ages of 9 months to 2 years of age*

please, please, please give us a HUGE heads up if you have or intend to work the munchkin up for RSV BEFORE we go in their cubicle and find ourselves slimed by the poor, sweet “baby” while starting the IV for you and drawing the ordered bloodwork for you. I could ask that you hang around and help hold the little darling but I will keep it simple and ask that you help us keep RSV out of the NICU.

(Daniel Quinn age 9 weeks/33 weeks adjusted age)

Thanks mucho,

Your colleague in the NICU

You know there is so much to discuss and worry about today:

• Home Prices Fall by Record Amount
• GOP gets ready for the YouTube Debate
• Santa Ana winds in Southern California
• Continued impact of oil spill in the San Francisco Bay Area

Yet the only thing I am focused on and stressed about is the fact that I have a big, fat, red zit on the tip of my 45 year old nose!

and these boys make it look good!

So what did Daniel tell the fat guy in the red suit? I don’t know. They put their heads together, talked very quietly and shared a quiet chuckle. Daniel tells me what he whispered to Santa is a secret. I’m sure it involved the idea that my little mister is wishing for a motorcycle.

Have you ever noticed how mommies often end up doing a lot of dirty work? Okay, I will say that my husband has been right there in the trenches when it came to poopies in the diapers, in the tub and even on the walls. He has reached out to catch his fair share of baby barf too. Still, using the snot sucker made him nauseous and he almost passed out the one time he had to turn the key to Holly’s palate expander. It just seems that if it is a dirty, distasteful and even painful job that needs to be done for one of my circus clowns, Mommy~Dearest is the man, er, mom!

Today’s dirty job was a new one even for me. We learned today that Holly is a carrier for the cystic fibrosis gene and her doctor recommended that the baby’s father be tested for the gene as well. The results will determine what if any testing might need to be done for baby’s health.

No problem.

Oh, wait, problem. Father of baby was less than thrilled with Holly’s news a couple of months ago. Actually, he was quite angry because her choice was not the choice he wanted her to choose and since he really didn’t have a choice in Holly’s choice he chose to leave. That’s his choice I guess. But regardless of his choice, Holly and her mid-wife need to know if he is a carrier or not. I think I saw Holly turn even greener than her usual color of late when the mid-wife discussed this with her. Me, being the good prenatal support person stepped up and explained that right now the father has chosen not to be involved and it might be hard for Holly to talk to him about this. The good mid-wife looked me in the eye and suggested that I be the one to tell the guy and get him to a lab to be tested.

Um, okay.

So I called the guy up, explained what I needed and explained that I wouldn’t bother him unless it was important and it was that important. His angry eyes bored into me as he questioned the need to have this done. I evenly explained what the disease was and how it would affect the baby, Holly’s baby, his baby. I added that all I wanted from him was a little bit of his blood. I would even pay for the test because it is that important. I stared right back at him waiting for his answer. Angry eyes don’t scare me when it comes to one of my children. He looked down at his feet, shrugged and agreed as he grabbed the lab slip out of my hand.

That was that.

It’s a dirty job and, oh yeah, Mommy~Dearest did it.

Okay, okay, kids, I get it! It’s so cold this morning that even the toys have to bundle up. I’ll turn on the heat. Happy now?

John Scalzi writes:

Weekend Assignment #191: When do you personally start celebrating the holiday season? Do you get into it at midnight of the Friday after Thanksgiving? Do you wait? Is Thanksgiving annoyingly in the way? Share your thoughts!

Well, John, does this answer your question?

Here under the Big Top, the Christmas holidays pretty much start after the warm fuzzies of Thanksgiving. This is a pretty big Big Top and, well, it takes awhile to get it ready for the Christmas holidays.

For our family, the days that lead up to Christmas over this next month is filled with awe, excitement and anticipation. Everyday something else from our Christmas treasures is up and with it’s arrival come the flood of memories that everyone shares over that particular piece. It seems to aptly reflect what this season means to me. It is a warm time to reflect on good times and blessings rather than the bad. It is a hopeful time as we look forward to the next new year that is just around the corner. It is a time to be a little more patient, a little more kind, a little more loving to one another and the average person on the street we encounter. Seriously, what can be so wrong with that? We should have more days like these.
It is easy to focus on what we perceive to be the bad of this time but I am a glass half full kind of girl so I rather focus on what the intent of this season is meant to be. Funny, but it seems that the more I do focus on it how the stress (my own) seems to lessen. I would rather reflect the love, the sharing, the kindness and the brightness of this time of year rather than anything else and in choosing to sharpen my focus on the positive, the negative seems to blur. Christmas is mostly a happy, warm time here under the Big Top and it is because we choose to make it so.

Extra Credit: Do you dream of a White Christmas (or Hanukkah, or Kwanzaa, or Winter Solstice, etc), just like the ones you used to know?

As long as I don’t have to drive in it or live in it, I am dreaming of a White Christmas sort of like the ones I used to know back in the day when I was growing up in Western Pennsylvania.

Morning sickness sucks! I have had experinces with this once or twice…oh, wait! That wasn’t morning sickness, that was hyperemesis gravidarum. Still, morning sickness sucks, this I know. Fortunately for my girl there is Zofran. It’s not a magic cure-all but it does seem to help a little.

Lucky!

But in spite of the fact she has something she can take that helps alleviate the symptoms a teensy-weensy bit, I have a lot of sympathy for her. Until she complains that my “smell” just lingers around her.

Lingers?

:::snif-snif:::

I think I’m going to take a shower now.

Maybe it is the tryptophan but I am feeling just a little bit uninspired today. I have nothing to blog about and I am completely uninspired about what to do with all these leftovers.

Any ideas?

Once again, my name is in the news.