That's so 16 year old boy with a cheesy moustache

Ah, Saturday morning cartoons. We hardly ever watch them (love that DVR) but for some reason we did this morning- some show about animals.. possibly at a zoo? I don't remember. And then suddenly there was a public service announcement. With Hilary Duff of all people. This..


What?

(Hearing that phrase actually drives me nuts.) So I went to thinkb4youspeak.com and found two more. Including my favorite one..


I think I might be missing the intent of these PSAs? Unless it was to give me a laugh this morning. (I needed one.) 16 year old boys with cheesy mustaches.. that's pretty funny- but, Jason seemed like he thought they were so girl wearing a skirt as top.

insert interesting title about not sleeping. and stuff. here. thanks.

I just had to go and jinx myself didn't I? I certainly wasn't bragging about the relative ease of Monday (especially when compared to how badly everything could have gone).. but maybe I should have been happy everything went okay and not put it out to the world that we all made it through the day. Because then there was Tuesday..

Nothing really terrible happened, but.. I just didn't prepare well enough in advance for everything. (Even though I planned in advance to be prepared. Funny.) I got three hours of sleep during the night. In the form of two naps.. about an hour and a half each. (Instead of my normal 5-6 hours. In the form of 1-2 hours naps. That has been my norm the last 4 weeks.) Not awesome.

I drank so much coffee. And ate so little food.. that by the time I started getting ready for the day's outing (taking Noah to the doctor), I couldn't keep my hands steady. So I ate 3 pieces of raisin bread. And that helped. Somewhat.

But time just slipped away. As it tends to do when a mom gets ready takes her two children out in public by herself for the first time. Lily ended up wearing her pjs.. with pants. But her pjs weren't really pjs, just a long shirt.. thankfully. So it was our frazzled little secret.

It was also the first time both car seats were in my car. And the way we are smashed in is probably just barely legal. Of course everyone is buckled and strapped down. Handles are at appropriate angles and blah blah blah. But it sure wasn't ever more obvious to me that my car was not designed with a family with two small kids in mind.

There was all that- and of course we were late. I looked at my watch. And grumbled to myself. The constant argument I have with myself about our doctor's appointments. If you know you're going to be 10, 15, or more minutes late and call to get in later in the day instead (the "right thing").. you find yourself not being able to get an appointment for a week. But if you just go anyway.. so far I've never been so late that they didn't take us. (And I also try to tell myself that pediatricians are a little more understanding.)

I was exhausted, I couldn't even get one of my children dressed properly, the car situation was making me so mad, and we were already outside for God's sake.. we were going! We were 15 minutes late. And if anyone there was bothered by it, they hid it really well.

Lily was so good at the office.. chatted to everyone, was calm, and actually listened to me. She wasn't completely okay with having to share "her" doctor with her brother.. but the doctor did a great job of involving Lily in everything she was doing (pff, moms!), including taking Lily to get a sticker and some paperwork while I got Noah dressed again. I'm so in love with that office and its staff.

There was probably more to our day, but beats the heck out of me as to what it involved. Seriously. Because last night, I only increased my sleep by an hour (1 three hour nap and 1 hour nap), but was still able to have a very short dream that I told off my brother-in-law's girlfriend, or whatever she is. In our hallway. Something about the bathroom. At least I think it was a dream- I could be sleepwalking/fighting at this point. Wouldn't surprise me.

My second "nap" would have been longer, but the combination of the bathroom door slamming (turned out the be the girlfriend) and Jason asking me if someone was in the bathroom (yes, apparently), woke me up.. and there was no going back to sleep. But, oh, I did so try.

(Today I looked up "death from a lack of sleep".. just to make sure.)

And I cannot for the life of me remember what the last thing I was going to say was. Here's to upping my logged sleep to a scandalous five hours tonight.

one day down..

I was originally going to call this "the end of the world." Because Monday was Jason's first back day at work from his little four week baby bonding vacation. But I survived. We survived..

Well. It actually wasn't that bad.

We didn't really do anything. Lily played on her own mostly. We watched tv, ate food, and I washed a heck of a lot of baby bottle paraphernalia. Around 5 o'clock we went outside- and it was still 73 degrees. At 5:15pm. On March 19. Winter.

Unbelievable.

Lily ran around in the yard and driveway while I stood (and sat) nearby with Noah strapped to my body. I don't think he could have cared any less about the weather. Or even that we were outside versus inside. He slept.

Lily chatted up our neighbor, telling him she was "going for a walk with mommy." Which she was.. On the way back, we passed an enormous dog being taken for a walk. Lily started calling him Sparky- and then continued to include him in our conversation the rest of the way home. I love the way that three year old's mind works. (Most of the time.) I love that she loves life.. makes me love it more too.

When Jason came home he told me I looked like a mom. "Ya," I told him, "it's weird.. I thought that several times today.. that I never felt so much like a mom." Like all of a sudden- and I don't know why.

Wherein I keep our lives interesting

Sunday morning I woke up with hives. Because it seemed like time for some more drama in our lives and I'm awesome like that. And they got worse as the day went on. They came and went. Monday they got worse. Coming and going. Migrating all over my body from head to toe.

By Monday night, my husband and mother-in-law had me so freaked out (maybe it's this, maybe it's that, maybe they left something in you when they cut you open. seriously?!) I found myself being taken to the emergency room. Where I never even sat down in the waiting room.. the registration desk thought maybe I was going into anaphylactic shock and I was seen immediately. Turned out that, thank God/apparently, that was not what was happening.

I was given a bunch of disgusting medicine (seriously disgusting.. burning like shots of vodka), prescriptions for more disgusting medicine, and sent home to recover.

Tuesday I went to my doctor. Or actually.. to see a physician's assistant since I didn't want to wait til Friday. First I talked to a third year med student. Who I totally freaked out. It was very clear, that although she asked me lots of questions, looked at the rash all over me, in my ears, and my eyes.. that she really really did not know what to tell me what was going on. And it made me feel bad. For her. Like maybe she was going to go home and quit med school. And I was already pretty freaked out about what was happening to me.. I didn't need to add making someone drop out of med school to my day.

The med student went to talk to the P.A. and then they both came back in to see me. The P.A. was pretty baffled too, but at least he ventured to guess that it was an allergic reaction to something.. and probably not meds from my hospital stay 3 1/2 weeks earlier (which is what I was told it probably was at the ER the night before). He referred me to an allergist- whose waiting room I was sitting in about an hour later.

The allergist was the first one that made me less freaked out about what was going on. When you think we are having an allergic reaction to something, you see an allergist, and he tells you not to worry about it too much.. he's the one you are probably going to believe. It's migrating, I told him, all over my body.. coming and going. Ya, he said, it'll do that. And I started to calm down.

He also just handed over medicine. Just like that. Saving me whatever it was I would have spent at the pharmacy filling the ER prescriptions. Finally, a win.

He seems to think his cocktail of drugs is going to fix me up, no problem. And if it does, then it'll just be one of those bizarre things with no specific cause. (Which won't then lead me to need testing to find the cause.) I'm supposed to keep a diary of what goes on- and then follow up with him in a week.

Unfortunately, so far, I am finding a lot to write down. And the more I write, the more I think he's going to take one look at it and refer me to a nutritionist too. Fail.