Cats & Justin Timberlake. I’m nearing a trifecta here.
Archive for the ‘other people are awesome’ Category
Category other people are awesome, posting on-the-go, the cats
Category Abigail, motherhood, other people are awesome, paparazzi, toddler business
I’ve had The Clash in my head since Tuesday night. Except replacing “the law” with “the wall.” It’s just too fitting for Abby’s most recent episode.
Tuesday night, as the three of us were at the in-law’s home (waiting out another house showing) (buy my house), Abby and Papa were playing “bug hunt” in the basement. Apparently, Abby was enthusiastically running away from the vacuum when she ran straight into a wall (or a corner?), face first. I wasn’t in the room, but could hear a thud followed by blood curdling screams. I could tell almost immediately that she was for-real-seriously hurt, but when I saw her on the bottom step of the basement stairs with blood covering her face and Papa’s hand, I got woozy.
“Mom mode” kicked in and I quickly carried her up the stairs for a closer look. Nana got a paper towel and an ice cube, and we put them on her bleeding lip. It was then I realized it wasn’t just a split lip, but two perfect teeth marks DEEP into her lower lip. I knew we had to take her to the ER. This was looking like stitch territory.
(My “I am not amused” face.)
This isn’t her first trip to the ER rodeo. Back when she was nearly 1.5 years old we took her in for croup-related stridor. This though? Scary on a totally different level. She was hysterical from the pain and seeing all the blood, but we piled into the hubs’ car and headed in.
Thankfully, after having her lip cleaned up (and out) (gross) the doc decided that although she could put a stitch in each hole, they would probably heal up just as well on their own, with less irritation from the stitches. (THANK GOD. Holding my child while she gets a stitch in her lip? NO THANK YOU.) She was allowed to leave with nothing more than a printout of “laceration home treatment” and a blue slushie, with the nurse letting us know that her lip was likely going to look “like hamburger” for a few days.
(He wasn’t lying. Also, he looked like Meatloaf aka “Bitch Tits” from the movie Fight Club. It really rounded out the whole ER experience.)
Abbers and I stayed home from school & work yesterday to let her face rest, and to ice her lip every few hours as the doc had prescribed. She used the time to practice being a princess. And also to eat all the food. Does a traumatic event usher in endless hunger? Girlfriend ate about 3,428 Angry Birds Honey Grahams.
Today she went back to school and while her lip looks like something out of a horror movie, she assures me it doesn’t hurt so I think she’s on the mend. We took the train into downtown and I kind of felt like yelling, “STOP JUDGING, EVERYONE ON THIS TRAIN.”
(Sidenote: I texted my bestie during this ordeal and she mentioned what I (of course) was thinking – “Has CPS stopped by yet? ” because GOOD LORD. Thankfully this clearly was a “toddler coordination” issue, but I’ve heard horror stories of “interviews” during ER visits from people I’ve shared this story with. So glad that wasn’t a part of this experience.)
All in all, quite the Tuesday night.
In house related news, we have another showing tomorrow (buy our house) but no offers yet. SOMEONE BUY MY HOUSE. KTHX.
Category marriage, motherhood, other people are awesome, The Hubs
To say the last two weeks have been hard would be an understatement. I have cried, slept, and been awake more in the last 13 days than I feel like ever. I’ve been crying for good reason, and crying for no good reason. Hormones are a bitch, people. And mine are all over the effing place. People who know me are aware that I’m a pretty solid person. I don’t tend to cry easily, or let things get to me too much. However, when my facade gets even the smallest fissure, the rest of me tends to melt away. I get anxious. Depressed. I can fall apart.
This me has only been around a few times. Like, a couple months after I had Abby. Then when my anxiety peaked last summer. And now.
I hate this me. I know I have no control over my emotions and me without control is like a malt without hot fudge. It just. doesn’t. work.
I’ve had a rough couple of nights. Last night I had a class A panic attack, intensified by worrying about the new strain of Norovirus (have you read about this?!). I was completely gone. But Josh, the awesome husband that he is, told me to back away from the internet, lay down in bed and let him take care of Abby and everything else. I cried (of course, right now it’s my only reaction to anything) and felt so damn grateful to have such a thoughtful husband.
Tonight wasn’t much different. Abby continued her newest trick of hating everything we’ve ever offered her to eat, and flat out refused both pizza and oatmeal. What’s frustrating is that she’ll eat pretty much anything anyone else gives her – at school or at her grandparents house. For us? AS IF. We struggled and fought with her for 45 minutes about eating until she decided she would drink milk and snuggle with me instead, which I allowed. Then bath time turned into struggle number 2, more tears, more acting out. Part of me knows she’s sensing my emotions and reacting to them, and unfortunately I have little to no patience these days. She shaped up enough when she got out of the tub, but cried more during teeth brushing. I’d had enough, and Josh sensed it. He stepped in and took over. Which again, made me cry.
I feel horrible for being this way. For what I feel like is rubbing off on my daughter, for feeling useless, even though I really do feel like I’m okay most of the time. I know this is my hormones wreaking havoc on my psyche, but not being able to control any of it is sending me over the edge.
Through it all though is Josh. Being my rock. Standing by my side when all I can do is cry or lay in bed or stare at my computer. He has done nothing but take care of me for the last two weeks and make sure I’m okay.
People say this all of the time, and I’m sure I’ve said it before too, but I’ve never in my life meant it more than now:
I don’t know what I would do without him.
I keep wishing time away – for when mentally I’m repaired and not disabled by these hormones. For when we can start trying for another baby. For when I’ll be pregnant again. But I feel like the more I’m wishing, the more I’m removing myself from the present. But it’s just so damn hard to be here right now. Mentally. And physically…I guess. I’m rambling.
Anyway. I know I’ll get through this. And I’ll eternally be grateful for a husband that will do anything to make sure I that I do.
Category motherhood, other people are awesome, please and thank you
The ultrasound today showed no significant change. I was measuring 8 weeks along, but still nothing.