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Thursday, December 11, 2008

It's a Good thing...

that it is the end of the year and I am certain my Mother of The Year Award is already in the mail.

A little background:

1. We are trying to get ready to be out of town for an extended period of time over the holidays (extended=more than a week). We have a few gifts to buy, gifts to wrap, Christmas letters to send, groceries to buy, work parties, friend parties, church parties, cats to tend, packing, bedrooms to paint and the small detail of my gestational diabetes bloodwork to get taken card of by the end of next week along with the general stresses/demands of daily life. I'm not complaining. We've done this for the last 7 years of our marriage and I really love our Christmas traditions. It is just a lot of work getting there.

2. I am pregnant and a little hormonal. If I am being fair, I would have to say that I am a little more on the side of crazy this year that normal. I admit it. But, I really don't know what to do about it except decorate the bedroom, bake the 40 different kinds of cookies and then cry about it. All right now, no waiting.

3. NewBaby is currently feet down in my belly. While I love the bumps and pokes, they are becoming stronger every day and becoming uncomfortable sometimes. Especially because the target of many of the pokes/bumps is now my bladder/pelvis area. It is like 48594819819897846513518 times a day you suddenly need to go to the bathroom urgently (if this offends some of you, you may want to check back at the end of March. I fully intend to discuss my cervix with you later in this pregnancy. Just not today). The sensation lasts only 2-5 seconds at a time. This is usually long enough for me to stop what I am doing and move towards the restroom. Then the pressure stops and I realize the restroom isn't quite as urgent as I thought. However, plenty of the time I still do need to go and I take care of business. Not a problem once, but when it happens all day it can make a girl crabby.

4. Yesterday I woke up with a little cold that is making me drag. Everything is taking extra effort and being tolerant of other people is requiring some extra energy. Especially when that other person is two and has some very definate opinions about what they would like to do.

THE REAL STORY
Today I shut William's hand in the car door. It was just after noon and I had was on a roll. We had been to: the grocerry store, the post office mailing Christmas cards, the lab office for my hour long diabetes test and dropped somethings off with a friend. I was on fire. But, I was crashing. I was tired, hungry, had a car full of grocceries to unload, a full list of chores to complete during nap time and a sweet little someone was stepping on my bladder.

I unloaded William from the car and leaned back to shut the door (leaning is now required in order to not shut the belly in the car door). I felt William shift in my arms toward the car door and I realized he was probably reaching for the door as he was NOT happy about me carrying him. Quite suddenly his whining stopped and his body became very still in my arms. I turned to look and saw his little hand trapped in the car door. I had to open the door to get his little fingers out.

Because it was noon, our doctor's office was closed for lunch and John wasn't at his desk. So, I did what any horomonal woman would do. I called my mom. At work. Almost barely holding my horomonal self together. I wish I could publish her phone number here because she did an AMAZING job talking me through what I needed to look for and advised me about what needed to be done. She also told me several stories about how she shut my brother's fingers in the door more than once. No nurse would have done that. However, she already has a full time job and probably doesn't need you all calling - plus I'm not sure I want to share.

Anyhow, his fingers are brusied, but not broken. We're keeping a close eye on the fingers/hand to be sure nothing shows up tomorrow, but he was using it normally only minutes after the accident happened. I am pretty sure I am more tramatized then he is...

2 comments:

Nicole said...

No one ever mentions the reality of pregnancy (or the after effects!) do they???

Tristan is always getting hit in the head by SOMETHING and it usually is my fault. Like the day K was late for school so we were all running in and I was carrying T... he leaned back a little and I whapped his head on the door frame. I did that with a whole bunch of other moms standing around. Great. He is paying me back this week with a terrible virus. Nice.

Good luck with your Christmas preperations!!! We haven't even started doing anything... YIKES.

Sanford Family said...

Ok, I am going to admit something here that I am totally not proud of, but hope it will make you feel better about the incident with William's fingers... When Henry was 3 months old, on Memorial Day none the less, I slid the van door across his big toe. I was totally in a hurry, stressed out, and ready to do a speed grocery shopping. I put him in the stroller (because I can't carry those silly baby car seats at all) and slid the door shut. Apparently, his toes (in the sleeper so couldn't see them) were too close to the car. He started screaming and I look down and don't see anything... Then the blood appears on his pjs. I throw the boys back in the car- the stroller in the back... Bailey was extremely upset and crying at the sight of blood and I kept saying It's okay (panicked voice) over and over again. Bailey said, "But it's not okay Mommy." As I am speeding down the road, Bailey says but Mommy you dropped your wallet!!! I pull hastily over to the side of the road and look in back and sure enough- it's not there! I rush back to the grocery store, narrowly missing an accident (I think I ran a red light too). I find a stranger to watch my kids in the locked car while I run inside and grab the wallet and head to the ER. His toe was broken, almost lost his nail, and there was a LOT of blood. We had to wait in the ER for 5 hrs for stitches (it was Memorial Day remember?) all the while Henry was alternating crying and falling asleep. I felt like the worse mother in the world- everyone was staring at me and his blood kept soaking through everything. They wouldn't let me feed my newborn because he might throw up from the pain meds they wouldn't give him until 5 hrs later anyways. Thankfully John was working closeby and picked up Bailey and took him to the pharmacy and let him watch ICe Age over and over and eat pizza. AH! Isn't it horrible when things like this happen because we are in too big of a hurry to pay attention?