Official Worst Week of 2010

July 3, 2011 at 8:46 pm (Dougisms, Family, Grrr!, Mom Stuff)

I probably came closest to restarting the blog during the last week of 2010. That was the week that refused to go right for us. That was the week that caused us to visit the hospital three times in three days. Two trips to the ER and one trip for surgery. Let me tell you how much you don’t want to spend your New Year’s Eve: in the ER with your 18 month old. The nurse cannot give you enough popsicles to make it okay!

Let’s start at the very beginning:

It was a mildly chilly evening, December 29, 2010. Our kids should have all been in bed asleep. I was mourning the loss of my little sister who had left that afternoon to go back to BYU. Normally we would go in ad yell at our kids for being up too late, but we were being a little lazy. Then, a scream shot through the house, the likes of which we had never heard from one of our kids.

When Samuel came running out of his room, Doug already had his shoes on because he knew he was on his way to the hospital. Samuel came over to me with an arm that wasn’t hanging normally. I hate these moments, but I was totally unprepared for what was to come.

One of the problems with living so close to excellent hospitals is having to choose which ER to frequent. Because of the awesome experience we had when Doug hurt his back, we went to Methodist. The doctor on duty told Doug the arm was broken, they set it in a soft cast and told us to call the pediatric surgeon in the morning. He thought it might need surgery, but you never know, because “kids are resilient.” I don’t know why he fed us that load of nonsense, but it would have been much better if he had just said that Samuel was going to need surgery. It would have saved us a lot of heartache the next day.

Doug brought Samuel home at about 10:30 that night, with a prescription in his hand. Here is a helpful hint: when the hospital gives you a prescription for a painkiller, fill it. Just in case. Because if you have to go to the pharmacy in the middle of the night, it’s going to seem like the longest half an hour … ever!

Samuel seemed okay when he first got home. The most upset he got was when he told me how they had to cut off his brand new Mario shirt to get the cast on (thankfully though, Aunt Ingrid and Grandpa both sent us very generous amounts of Mario gear to replace what got lost). Once he went to bed though, it was non stop pain for Samuel… and maybe a little for me. Because they didn’t set the arm at the hospital, every time Samuel moved, his broken bone was shifting. I made Doug go to the pharmacy at midnight to fill the prescription. The medication helped, but there was still a lot of crying. I stayed with Samuel in the guest room, and I have to say, it was one of the longest nights that I can remember.

The next morning I called the surgeon first thing, and they told us to come in at 4:30. The doctor’s office called back at noon and told us not to let Samuel eat anything, just in case he needed surgery. Samuel spent the day in bed with a DS that we save for special occasions! The other kids had to stay away, which was sad for all of them.

Doug came home from work early, and we dropped the kids off at Dixie’s, for what I thought would be a couple of hours. Here is something else I’ve learned, if the doctor’s office calls and tells you not to eat, it’s because they’re doing surgery. It would have been very helpful if they had just told us that so that we could have prepared Samuel and our other kids, not to mention Dixie! When we first saw the doctor he said that Samuel needed surgery. When we asked him when we should do it, he said we were doing it right now!

The surgery went well, and he felt so much better as soon as everything was set properly. The doctor stuck two pins above his elbow and re-wrapped the arm. Amazingly to me, Samuel only needed the cast for 3 weeks. It was the additional months of therapy + the crazy brace that he had to wear for an hour every day that got on my nerves!

So, you would think that would be enough of a week, right? On the afternoon of New Year’s Eve I headed to Costco to buy some stuff to make a nice New Year’s Eve dinner. We were keeping it low key and staying home. While I was driving home Doug called and asked if I remembered when Samuel smacked his head on the fireplace and needed stitches. That’s never a way to start a phone conversation! Then Doug said that it happened again.

Of course, Doug wanted to leave me in suspense about which kid had fallen. I assumed it was William, because I figured since he was the one fighting with Samuel when he broke his arm, that he had something coming! I was wrong. It was Afton jumping on the fireplace!

When I took a look at the cut, I told Doug that I thought she needed stitches. He said he thought a band-aid was fine, but it was right above her eye, and I thought better safe than sorry. Doug was a little worried about all the trips to the hospital, and was thinking we were going to get some kind of reputation! I decided to take Afton over to a friend’s house to get a medical opinion. I know, it was nice of me to ruin their New Year’s Eve too! The Dunns said we should go get stitches, and so off we went.

I called Doug (maybe to tell him that I was right about the whole stitches situation) and he told me to go to urgent care. I thought this was a job for the hospital, but the previous ER visits were worrying Doug. So, off I went to Urgent Care. This is perhaps my final helpful hint: If you have an 18 month old with a gash right above her eye, just go to the ER. The Urgent Care people will have you wait, fill out forms, go to the treatment room, and then tell you to go to the hospital because they don’t do stitches near the eye.

I decided to call Doug (maybe to tell him that I was right about Urgent Care), and then I decided to make a visit to the Baptist ER, just in case Methodist was keeping track of our visits! All things considered, we were in and out of the hospital very quickly. Baptist has a separate ER for kids, and we got there before all the crazy drunken New Year’s nonsense happened. Afton got 6 stitches in her eyebrow, and hopefully you won’t even be able to notice the scar by the time she’s 15!

Okay, so this is the longest post ever! If I had been up to date on my blogging I would have been able to spread this out over 3 posts! If you’ve made it this far, I’m very impressed! Just know that everyone made it through the end of the year … just with some stories to tell!

Permalink 3 Comments

Seriously?

April 9, 2010 at 3:11 pm (Grrr!, Uncategorized)

I think I’ve been in a little bit of a funk today. I was going to catalog a list of my current pet peeves for you (things like: not putting away grocery carts and women who are far too old, wearing skirts that are far too short on windy days, sans underwear!). Anyway, the whole thing seemed like a bit of a downer, so I thought I’d look for happier news on the internet. That was a bit of a wasted effort. I came across this story, which I find slightly disturbing. It really annoys me, because when I’m looking to get away from it all I tell Doug that we should move to Maine! Now, I have to find another place to move in my imagination! I don’t understand why things get “confusing” when you want to separate public bathrooms by gender. Help me out on this.

On a more positive note, and completely unrelated, we’re having a giveaway today over at Frankly Entertaining.

Permalink 1 Comment

Yes, I’m Spelling it Correctly

April 7, 2010 at 8:22 pm (Grrr!)

About once a year I find it impossible to login to my hotmail account. It’s as if the email gods are conspiring to have me do something productive with my family. They’re just trying to show me who’s boss. That’s what happened yesterday. All of a sudden,  out of nowhere, no more email. This kind of thing would annoy me on a regular day, but I was coordinating two moves for today, and I needed my hotmail.

The last time this happened to me  I asked a computer guy in my ward. He’s supposed to be the Indiana Jones of computers (I don’t even know what that means), and his big solution was that I was spelling it wrong. He thought that after over ten years with hotmail I suddenly forgot how to spell it. There was no logical reason that only hotmail wouldn’t work; that it would work at the library but not on any of our three home computers. The problem was obviously my spelling.

Now, I’ve never been to Washington for the National Spelling Bee, but I’m pretty sure I’m capable of stringing together seven letters to form a word.

Fast forward a year and I’m in the same predicament. This time I call our internet provider. I disable the security software, I delete the cache, still nothing. At this point I decided to spend some quality time with the kids and just wait for Doug ( I don’t care if this sets feminism back, one of the reasons that I got married was for the 24 hour technical support!).

Just so that I remember when this happens again next year: if hotmail isn’t working, reset the router.

Permalink 1 Comment

Wherefore art thou Becel?

March 17, 2010 at 5:10 pm (Grrr!, Random Thoughts)

A love letter to my favorite spreadable margarine:

Dear Becel,

My love for you was nurtured in my home and native land. A spreadable margarine that is both heart healthy and tasty. Not to mention the miracle that is your ability to butter toast without making the toast soggy. Why do Canadians have a monopoly on non-soggy toast? Why do customs agents look at me like I’m crazy when I say that I’m declaring margarine? Why do I have to deprive my children of the goodness that is Becel because I never know when I’m going to get my next supply? Why oh why aren’t you available at a supermarket near me?

I have tried to replace you with American spreadable margarine, but nothing here has your je ne sais quoi. Even the Promise Spread with it’s near identical font was a disappointment. I was sure that Promise had to be America’s answer to Becel, but I was wrong. Even though, in theory, they are the same product, Promise lacks Becel’s magic.

I love you and I will always be loyal. Please move south of the border very soon.

xoxo

me

ps:  I have just found a source that says it ships all kinds of Canadian goodness around the world. This could be my answer for Becel and ketchup chips!

Permalink 4 Comments

Success

March 16, 2010 at 1:48 pm (Doug Stuff, Grrr!)

Proof!

Last year, Doug and I were trying to simplify the Christmas experience. Trimming the number of gifts was supposed to make things easier, and it was supposed to help us appreciate our gifts more. Doug’s gifts to me were a cast iron skillet (this was something that I’d been looking at for a while), and … wait for it… Super Mario Bros. for the Wii. Now, I don’t fault Doug at all. He was trying to be very sweet. He knows that this is a game that I used to play a lot when I was a kid. He thought that I would have fun with this. What he doesn’t understand however, is that I don’t really enjoy the playing of games. I enjoy the winning of games! Unfortunately for our children, Doug and I both feel this way!

I have played Super Mario Bros exactly three times since Christmas. I don’t know if Doug and the boys have stopped playing it! Doug started out by saying that it teaches teamwork, and then he told me that it was bonding time for him and the boys. He told me that they were only playing it until they beat all of the levels and then we were going to put it away.

Then, late on night it happened. Doug beat Bowser , and the game was over. He told the kids all about his success when they woke up the next morning (for the family bonding, Doug couldn’t trust the boys not to get him killed during the final stages!).

I was very excited because that meant the end of playing this game every single day. Except, that the day after Doug’s success a friend came over to play. Somehow, Nintendo has not figured out how to prevent 5 year olds from randomly deleting progress. Oh, if I could have captured the look on Doug’s face when he came home and the game was back to the beginning!

It shouldn’t have mattered though, because he had already beaten the game. He had nothing left to prove. We should have been able to store Mario on the shelf. Alas, there was no proof that Doug had finished the game. Even though I know that he’s the most honest person on the planet, he was worried that someone might think he was lying. So, we started all over again.

I wish I could say that I was patient and long-suffering, but mostly I just suffered. Every night. Trying to beat the witch and the dogs and trying to overcome the challenge that is playing with two young boys who think it’s really fun to push Mario into the hot lava.

Well, last night at 9:45pm Doug went and got the boys out of bed so that they could witness the momentous occasion. Doug was about to, again, save the princess. Success! Woohoo! Everyone is happy. The game is over and the credits are rolling. We are done … aren’t we? Wait, what is that? They said the game was over. Why on earth is there a World 9 that shows up after the credits have rolled?

Late night princess saving!

Anyone want to buy a copy of Super Mario Bros?!

Permalink 1 Comment

#2 Military Cut

November 18, 2009 at 11:03 pm (Dougisms, Grrr!)

not so bad!

So, a couple of days before the first day of school it was decided tat Samuel needed a hair cut. It was getting kind of shaggy, and we wanted to make sure that he looked appropriately cool for kindergarten! Normally Doug cuts the boys’ hair (except for William), but we didn’t want any unevenness (is that even a word?) to impede him in the friend making department. So, while we were sitting around the table Doug was instructing Samuel on how to talk to the hairdresser. He said, “make sure you tell her that you want a #1 military, all over.”

The next day we headed to the salon, and I told the lady, “#1 military, all over.” She looked at me and replied, “No, you don’t want that.” I then explained that was what my husband wanted. She asked me if my husband was in the military. The hairdresser then suggested that we start with a #2. If I still wanted it shorter the we could do that later.

Halfway through the cut the stylist tried to make a joke and told Samuel that she was done. Haha, not funny to a five-year old! The whole thing was crazy, but when it was all over, I thought he looked good.

We get home, and Samuel runs outside to show his dad, at which point Doug comes running at me asking me what I did I answered, “#2, military style.”

“Why would you do that?”

“You told me to.”

“I was joking!”

Apparently I didn’t get the joke!

Permalink 3 Comments

When free isn’t such a good deal

September 18, 2009 at 2:55 pm (Grrr!, Kids)

Don't we look happy?!

Don't we look happy?!

The only channel I let my kids watch at home is PBS Kids. I like that the shows are only on for a limited amount of time, and when they’re over the kids have no problem turning off the tv(for some reason they are not too eager to watch Sit and Be Fit!). I also like that there are no commercials and no violence. There’s also very little adult content, with the exception of Sesame Street, which I think tries a little too hard to be hip.

We waited in line for those BK crowns!

We waited in line for those BK crowns!

Right before school started, PBS sponsored a Back to School day at the Children’s Museum. It included free admission to the museum, crafts for the kids, plus a goody bag. I thought this might be a fun little Saturday adventure for us. Not so much. First off, you had to complete a kind of scavenger hunt to get the goody bag, so my kids didn’t see much o the museum because I was obsessed with filling out their cards (I promise I won’t take over their science fair projects, but we were in a time crunch!). Once we finished all of the cards, we didn’t even want to stay around because there were just way too many people. Also, the crafts and activities offered weren’t really set up for a billion people to participate. We didn’t even get any popcorn because I just couldn’t wait in the line. I think that I have to remind myself that I don’t really like people, so I need to stay away from crowded events. 

Don't worry, Ben was there too!

Don't worry, Ben was there too!

I think most times we would be better off paying the price of admission and having a little space to ourselves. I won’t even tell you about last Saturday’s sneak preview of a certain children’s movie. Suffice it to say that Doug was not a happy camper when there was a line, too many tickets, and not enough seats! Although, next week PBS is sponsoring a free screening of the new National Parks documentary at Mission San Jose. There will even be lots of fun activities for the kids…

Just like Disney World

Just like Disney World

Permalink 5 Comments

588

March 13, 2009 at 1:26 pm (Grrr!, It's a Girl)

588 – That’s how many times the nurse at the perinatologists office wanted me to prick my finger during the remaining 12 weeks of my pregnancy!

Just one of many!

Just one of many!

 

So, it has been a week since my first visit to the new peri-natologist. I knew I wasn’t going to return to the one from my last pregnancy, but my hopes of this new doctor being totally awesome and relaxed have been dashed. For one, they want me to check my sugars 7 times a day instead of the 4 times that I previously did not enjoy. I’m somewhat  convinced that this is a ploy from the glucose monitor people to force  me to buy even more test strips!

On the positive side, this office is way closer to me, and I’ve been able to coordinate my appointments with my regular OB check-ups, so it’s not so much back and forth. Also, this doctor has a fancy 3-d ultra-sound machine. So, I was able to confirm that this new arrival will, in fact, be a girl (I have yet to buy anything because I was in denial!), but I was also able to determine that the baby isn’t all that cute … yet! I think the features will improve when she weighs more than 3 pounds!

So, I’m back on the gestational diabetes diet. 2200 calories a day of high protein/ low carb goodness! Eleven weeks left, then I can get back to to the mashed potatoes that I love! On the plus side, this does tend to keep the extra, ice cream induced, weight off for the last few weeks of the pregnancy!

On the ironic side of things, this particular doctor keeps a wonderful array of hot chocolate available in her waiting room. If you prick me, do I not bleed?! 

Just in case you’re wondering, the number on my monitor was after dinner, and it was 80, and that makes me a gestational diabetes rock star!

Permalink 5 Comments

A Courtesy Travel Warning

July 8, 2008 at 9:47 am (Grrr!)

This is just a friendly warning. Take it for what it’s worth. If you see this person travelling at the airport, run in the other direction!

Now I know she looks all innocent and friendly. Hey, it looks like she might even grow her own radishes, but trust me, looks can be deceiving! If you follow her onto an airplane, odds are you will not make it to your intended destination anywhere near the estimated arrival time. Why, you ask? Oh you know, the usual, there’s “weather” somewhere in America preventing your flight from flying to Halifax from Chicago. Now, keep in mind that the only flight to Halifax being cancelled for the whole day is the flight that this unlucky woman is on. Because the incident is “weather” related the airline (I don’t want to name names, but UAL you know who you are!) won’t hep you with a hotel. Keep in mind this woman is traveling with an infant on a bereavement fare. You would think that this might inspire someone from the “customer service” desk to get me to my destination in a reasonable fashion. Not so much. This woman is told that her flight the next day is sold out, so she’ll have to wait two days. Luckily, said woman’s brotherworks for an airline and has told hr not to believe their crap. He says, find out where exactly the weather is. She tries this, but apparently that information is classified. Whatever, the woman is ashamed to admit this, but after her pleading her case (“hey, I’ve got to get to a funeral at which I’m a speaker”) to no avail, she gets out the big guns and starts crying. For some reason, this made a flight magically appear first thing the next morning. You think this is the end of my story, but it’s not!

After this poor soul arrives in Halifax, without her luggage, she makes it through two viewings, a baptism, church on Sunday, the aformentioned funeral, plus various family functions. At this point she cannot wait to get back to her loving husband and two other children. She packs the bags that have only just arrived and prepares for her journey at the crack of dawn the next morning. What’s that, you say? Sounds too good to be true? Well you’re right. The automated airline people call at 11:00pm and say that the flight has been cancelled due to “weather.” I’ll let this be known now, the return flight was the continuation of the original flight from Chicago to Halifax. Apparently there is random weather affecting only the flights involving the Chicago-Halifax-DC turnaround. I looked it up on the FAA website, but UALforgot to tell them! Now at this point the woman is upset, and her husband is very upset because he’s had a long couple of days watching his kids. So, the woman gets an extra day to celebrate her country’s national holiday. Then it happens … there is more weather and another cancelled flight. I do enjoy how airlines cancel a flight die to weather twelve hours in advance, but what do I know?! After talking to a very “helpful” Mr. Ryan at the Detroit call center this woman is more frustrated than ever. Apparently the airline doesn’t understand why this woman in her time of grief wouldn’t want to spend more time with her family, to which she responds “I would love to spend some time with my family … in Texas.” Mr. Ryan, even though he’s a supervisor does not have the ability to either change the woman’s flight, or say where the weather is. At this point, the woman is getting agitated. It’s time to call in the troops, and by that I mean the woman’s older, angrier brother. I don’t know exactly what was said, but somehow, miraculously they found a flight whee there was none before. Oddly enough, when the woman arrived in Chicago, where there actually was weather, the plane left on time!

So, let this be a lesson to you: do not fly to Canada with me!

Permalink 7 Comments