Email Gone Awry

Having just received the Barack-Obama-is-an-antipatriot email for the umpteenth time in a month, I am following suit with my friend Jeff and providing a handy link to a list of facts that refute some of the crazier things I've read about Obama lately. Just consider one little blogger's contribution to truth on the Internet (she says like she has first-hand knowledge, but still... this is a real issue for me.)

I'm not one to tell people how to vote. I am unabashedly politically-minded, and I'm wearing an Obama '08 shirt as I type this, but I'm actually more offended by *the* email because of how irrational it seems to me. It's just crazy for people to believe what they read in an email chain as opposed to doing actual research about someone who's a strong contender to run the country some day.

There's probably someone far more eloquent than me to extol Obama's virtues, but for now, check out this link for more background about Barack (I say that like we're close personal friends!) His real website also has a comprehensive list of his stance on certain issues.

I can't believe I'm ranting about this, but I'm amazed at how many people I know who are convinced that the email's contentions that Obama is a Muslim who refuses to say the Pledge of Allegiance are accurate. Isn't Social Security about to run out? Don't we have millions of people living in poverty in our country who can't get even basic health care when they need it? Aren't thousands of American families losing loved ones in a war right now? I just wish we'd focus on actual issues, not gossip clearly intended to make one person look bad for reasons that seem based in bigotry to me.

Wow. I haven't been that fired up in a while.

This message was NOT paid for or supported by Obama for President. :-)

A Pint-Sized Independent

You may start to notice a pattern. Rob and I discuss politics a LOT. Seriously, it probably makes up at least 50% of our daily conversation. The other half is a mix of Sam logistics, what's for dinner, Relay For Life and American Idol. In no particular order.

So... the conversation was continuing as we were getting dinner ready last night. Rob and I were talking about Hillary's shenanigans in Florida (no bias there, sorry) when Sam asked if we were "talking about the president AGAIN?!"

Uh, yes. Sorry.

In order not to leave him out, we asked him if all of the news of the past few days had changed his mind about who should be president. He's apparently DONE with all of the antics, because his reply was that he "didn't really want anyone to win."

Well, then, are you a Republican or a Democrat?

"I'm really nothing."

Ok. Here's a test for you: Do you like elephants or donkeys better?

"Definitely elephants. I love elephants. Ella is an elephant."

So, you must be a Republican.

"NO I'M NOT!"

Clearly we are agitating our young son with all of this talk, so we dropped the subject and moved on to chicken nuggets vs. a cheese sandwich for his dinner.

My mom arrived a bit later and I relayed the conversation to her. She tried telling him that he could be a registered independent like Nonni.

Is it wrong that I'm teaching a 3 1/2 year old that registering as an independent is like throwing away your vote since you can't pick your candidates?! I am sure there must be medication for this.

A more age-appropriate moment came when Sam had had enough and retired to his bedroom to play with trains while the grown-ups cooked and continued the boring political talk. He screamed at the top of his lungs that we HAD to rush upstairs to see what he'd done. My little engineer had actually built a track for his trains all by himself for the first time. Rob and I were both suitably (and for real!!) impressed with what he'd done. The irony was not lost on me that if, perhaps, Mommy and Daddy found more constructive things to do with their time that maybe we'd get around to re-doing the bedrooms as we've planned or, say, renovating the kitchen that so desperately needs it.

XX or XY

The whole notion of gender selection in adoption is curious to me. I totally understand where some people are coming from in wanting to choose whether or not they adopt a boy or girl. Many families who adopt have been through tremendous loss and much of the experience has been out of their control... If there's a way to control one small part and you truly dream of having either a son or daughter, why not follow that dream if you can?

For us, that's just not the case. Rob, in particular, feels very strongly about letting God decide who our child is. The way we look at it, we wouldn't select gender if we were pregnant, so we won't this way, either.

I read a post on the Holt board, however, that led to an interesting conversation. If the story posted is true, the social worker in Korea who makes the final decision about matches will "save" a family that already has a boy -- especially if that boy is Korean -- for a girl. I've been told that it has something to do with the notion of balance, an important aspect of Korean culture.

I read this information matter of factly and just said to Rob that I think we have better than 50/50 odds of having a daughter this next time. He was troubled by the notion that it's a social worker, not God, making the decision. We ended the discussion by saying that either way, it's not us, so we just have to trust that the child that is meant to be ours will be matched with us. I reminded him that God helps that social worker make her decisions. He agreed and we switched to a lighter subject -- girl names -- a topic I could discuss for hours on end.

I was in Atlanta yesterday for a meeting, and even though I was down and back in one day, I didn't get to see Sam. I just hate days like that. I did sneak in to his room before I went to bed and gave him a quick kiss and re-tucked him in. We'll make up for the time this weekend when Rob has his Mock Trial competition. Sam and I will get another Saturday to do something ourselves. We miss Daddy, but I love those days, too!

I (think) I'm over it

The dog thing. I think I'm done begging.

Why, you ask?

Because Franklin has barked nonstop all weekend. I have no idea what's gotten into him, but it's really, really, really annoying.

When he wouldn't stop barking at absolutely nothing (that humans can see, at least) at 7:42 this morning, I just looked at Rob and said that if he wants me to stop begging for that puppy, all he needs to do is tape Frankie barking and just hit "play" when I ask again.

Since it's almost two hours later and I've lost track of how often we've gone outside to try to chase him in or shut him up, I don't even think I need the tape anymore. I think the response is now imprinted on my brain. No, we DON'T need another dog. No laughing at me...

I should get us ready. I started cooking (again, no laughing, please) at 7 a.m. for my former coworkers that are coming down with their kids for lunch in a couple of hours. Sam's still in his Mater PJs and should probably be scrubbed and fluffed before they arrive.

We are so old

It's 9 p.m. on a Saturday night. We spent the day running errands and taking care of various family members before hitting a Gymboree party at 4:30 p.m

Now we're all settled in, watching the South Carolina primary returns in our PJs. We joke often about how old we must seem to some people. My sister is out with a friend for dinner, then hanging with some other Philly friends at a bar or two. She and I frequently giggle at the fact that she rolls in at an hour that I might be getting up early, not just going to bed.

My Obama shirt finally arrived today and Rob, who already had his, wore it today.My friend Ted believes that what he wears could possibly impact how well the Cowboys play during football season. Do you suppose the same is true for campaign gear? Is it plausible that I am somehow helping Barack the Vote (couldn't resist that one)? We ordered our shirts the day he won Iowa. We got them and wore them when he wins South Carolina. We just wore regular clothes for New Hampshire and Nevada. I don't know... that's a pattern if you ask me.

Live Out the String

A word of warning, this is shaping up in my head to be a real "journaling" post more than a concert review, so you were warned if it gets all mushy and gooey.

I went to the Keswick last night to see Marc Cohn in concert again. Rob and I have seen him a couple of times before, but I took my mom with me last night. She really enjoyed the show as did I, but Mr. Cohn's new album is affecting me in a way that music rarely does.

I love quality music as well as the next girl, but every so often a song comes along that really touches something inside you. I don't think it's ever happened to me in quite the way it has with Marc Cohn's new single "Live Out the String."

I'm a devoted fan, so I knew all about his totally unfortunate run-in with a carjacker in downtown Denver on August 7, 2005. He was shot in the head, but managed to walk away unscathed with the exception of what he describes as a pretty bad case of PTSD. While home recovering, he watched the events in New Orleans unfold and was inspired to write his new album.

Back to the song... Live Out the String talks very directly about what it feels like to have a second chance when you've faced death. I don't talk about the emotional effects of my near-death experience in 2002 very easily. I'm quick to say how happy I was to have survived and can articulate how our struggles with subsequent pregnancy losses affected us and led us to what's become an amazing way to build a family. But, the (not to sound too melodramatic) psychological scars that I didn't become aware of for a while after the "incident" are still there. I've been told to write out the experience, both good and bad. For some reason, I've never been able to make myself do it.

In a weird way, I feel like if I were a better writer and had one lick of musical ability, I would have said just exactly what Marc Cohn says in his song. I read interviews with him where he talks about the stages you go through after such an experience. I was stuck, like he was, in the euphoria of having lived for quite some time. After that starts to wane, though, you wonder if you're supposed to be doing something specific with the life you've been left to live.

I know I'm doing a lot of what I'm "supposed" to be doing. I trust that God wasn't finished with me yet. I still struggle, however, with wondering if I'm doing enough. It's a bit freaky to know that you should have died, to have been told you pretty much did, but then be released with nothing but a pelvic scar and the notion that life has changed forever. Granted, when I was released from the hospital, I wasn't in the life-has-changed-forever stage. I was in the what-the-heck-is-with-people stage. I could NOT figure out why everyone was treating me like I was so fragile. I'd nearly died and didn't. I'm not fragile. I'm strong and darn happy to know my time isn't up yet.

I could probably ramble on about this forever. I suppose that's why people tell me to write it. Maybe I'm getting closer to being able to do it, but I'll most likely do it the old-fashioned way and dig out a pen and paper so that I can tuck the memories away to be read only if and when I need to.

I think the final thing the song made me realize is how grateful I am to have been surrounded by people who let me take things as they came and understood that I'd deal in my own way. It feels weird to tear up about all of the memories based on the song of some guy who has no idea who the heck I am, but I suppose that's what good music does.

I tried again

I'm so sorry little Tucker. Your would-be daddy is not budging. He and I are on totally different pages about the need for another dog. To him, it's not even worthy of a conversation. To me, it's at least worth some begging cleverly disguised as very mature, rational-sounding, convincing points of fact.

The points of fact?

We used to have three dogs. What's two now? Two would be easy.

Tucker wouldn't shed. I'm just sure he wouldn't. Whiskey doesn't; so I'm positive no other dog of similar breeding would either. (I'm so using someone else's dog to do my dirty work. Sorry about that Whisk. There's a treat in it for you soon, I promise.)

We really don't go on vacation very often. Why worry about a few measly days when we could have weeks, months, years, of sweet puppy kisses?

I'm the one at home most days. I'll be the one to let Tucker out, take him to the vet, make sure he gets along with Frankie.

You see? All very rational statements.

I know... I know... It's not what you say, it's the tone you use (as so evidenced by Tom Selleck in Three Men and a Baby. Remember that movie?!) To be totally transparent here, I should admit that perhaps my *discussions* about the acquisition of a new canine are not without a slight lilt to my voice.

All of this is to stay I'm still a loser in the dog argument arena. Somehow, we're supposedly in an equal marriage, yet all Rob has to say is NO, and it is so.

Does that mean I secretly know he's right, or that I'm just not fighting hard enough?!

I knew it!

I knew I'd forget to come back and blog every day. I'll keep trying. I know I'll want to know what was going on when we find out who our new baby is.

Yesterday was a typical work/school day, but Sam's behavior, alas, was NOT typical. He apparently was quite the unruly child for Ms. Krystyna at school. Now, you have to know that Ms. Krystyna is practically a saint. She has more patience than 10 average people rolled into one. For her to report to Daddy that Sam was pretty much obnoxious and out of control all day long means he was REALLY misbehaving. We had a nice chat when he came home and he behaved like a perfect angel all night.

Incidentally, I asked him *why* he was naughty at school. He replied that "it was just because I really wanted to stay home with Mommy in the morning but I went in to school early with Daddy."

I was trying to finish up a huge project, and since Sam was up, Rob took him in so that I could get some writing done before my phone started ringing for the day. I did get everything on the project done by lunchtime, but I'm not sure it was worth the payoff. I'm also not sure if that's *really* Sam's reason or if he's getting that good at playing us!

I took him in this morning, and he immediately sat down nicely on the rug in his classroom. No one else was there, so I asked what he was doing. He responded that he was practicing being good. That's more like it!

The only other thing to report is what's NOT going to be happening in our house. I got an email from someone who's helping to find a home for a VERY VERY CUTE golden doodle dog. Seriously. He's the cutest little thing and would be a perfect playmate for Franklin and our cousin-dog Whiskey -- also a remarkably adorable golden doodle puppy. Meeting Whiskey is what made me JUST KNOW that this dog must come live with us.

I really did try to convince Rob of our *need* for a companion for Frankie, who I really do think is lonely without Ellie.

Here's how the conversation went.

Me: Seriously. Rob. This dog is soooooo cute. Look at him.
Rob: No.
Me: Just look. And don't you think Frankie is lonely??
Rob: No.
Me: Really? He seems lonely to me. And think how cute and sweet Whiskey is.
Rob: No.
Me: Come on! I promise I'll take care of him (said in a whining tone as if I'm 10 years old and begging for my first pet)
Rob: No.
Me: Well... You think about it.
Rob: No.
Me: Please?
Rob: No.

You get the idea. We did wind up having an annoyingly rational conversation about how Rob thinks Franklin has adjusted as well as to be expected and that there's a new baby coming and that it's easier with one if we want to go on vacation...blah...blah...blah.

So, yeah. Just one dog here.

Days like today

It's days like today that prove why I DON'T blog every day, but I couldn't exactly flake out before I ever got started with my pledge, could I?!

Today was just a regular Tuesday. Not a bad day (save for a really yucky, lingering headache) but not particularly noteworthy either.

Sam did come home with his cute-but-becoming-slightly-grating request (seeing as it's an EVERY DAY THING now): Mommy, Where are my Skittles? Did you get me Skittles today?

The kid apparently thinks I spend my day procuring candy treats for him to enjoy the second he steps in the door. Kinda like June Cleaver, but Skittles instead of a glass of scotch or whatever it was that Ward liked to partake of after work.

I tried a little reverse psychology on Sam at dinner and it totally backfired. As anyone who's ever met Sam knows, the kid struggles a bit in the eating department. I've been more matter of fact about the situation of late and told him that he had a choice: either sit and eat dinner, or go up for a bath and bed. It was only 6:06 p.m. when I made this declaration.

Sam didn't eat, so I went to go up the stairs.

What does he do? Not flop on the floor screaming as I expected, but he follows me squealing with glee: I LOVE baths, Mommy. Can I have bubbles tonight?!

I did hold to the no snacks thing, but seeing as it was the night for Rob's hair cut, I did have to let him come back downstairs. Actually, I myself could have enforced a 6:45ish bedtime, but Rob did not agree. Fight with Daddy? Fight with Sam? Well... Daddy stays up later, so better if he's not mad at me. Like that logic?

The layout you see above is a RAKlift for a scrapper named NevadaJen whose sweet little girl suffered a massive brain bleed just before Christmas and has been struggling to recover since. She was released to rehab today (woooohooo!) but Lauren Reid's creative team has been following their story and wanted to do a round of scraplifts to hopefully let Jen know that we're thinking of her family.

This is post #102 for those of you counting...

...and apparently some people are! My sisters in law both told me that they read my blog more than I realized they did, and it's quite boring when I don't keep up. I've thought about blogging daily, but have never found my own life interesting enough for anyone else to want to read about on a daily basis. A fellow adoptive scrapping blogger, however, inspired me with her blog. She started posting the every day stuff every day so that she and her family would know what they were doing on the day their future child was born. That seems like a really good idea to me, seeing as I honestly have no clue whatsoever what I was doing the day Sam was born.

Rob and I both had today off, so we did an Ikea run (because heaven knows going to Ikea with Sam is NOT fun) and then squeezed in a movie before Sam would have woken up from his nap at preschool. We went to see Juno (spoilers ahead!!), which was really, really an endearing movie. It was about a high school girl who finds out she's pregnant and decides to place her baby for adoption. She gets to know that adoptive parents while she waits to deliver, and the story follows them as they deal with things from both sides. It was not at all melodramatic or maudlin, and was actually really funny in some parts. Rob and I were both in tears, though, through portions of the film. We could totally relate to the meeting in which the adoptive couple feels such anticipation and wonder over whether or not it will all work out (and Juno remarks that they should have just gone to China if they were that worried! Yikes.) as well as a scene in which the AMom gets to talk to the baby through Juno's belly. We will never have those opportunities, but it was completely palpable to watch this woman want a child so desperately and not feel any control over the situation. The real water works started when the AMom holds the baby for the first time. We cried knowing exactly how she felt, and we cried watching the BMom deal with her decision.

We know "our" birthmom is probably in Korea somewhere, struggling through every day. I think our child will probably be born in June or July, so she's probably starting to show now, which I can imagine really complicates the situation for her. I am so thankful that whoever she is, she's made a very difficult decision to give birth to her child and that we will be the recipients of her amazing gift.

So, here I go... I'll try to be back every day, lack of excitement or not, to faithfully record our lives. We may not get the chance to see our child come into the world or feel him or her kick inside a belly, but maybe we'll be able to look back and recall what was happening with us at a moment that we'll later know changed our lives.

Prayers Answered

About a year ago, I fell in love with a little boy in Korea named JaeHo. I posted about him here several times... I was so upset that, because he was close in age to Sam and had slight special needs, we would not be allowed to even look at his file. Even worse was knowing that since we was about to turn three, he's probably never be allowed to be adopted. It broke my heart to think he'd be in an institution just because they thought he should not be adopted out of birth order. Ideally I'd agree with that -- but his situation wasn't ideal.

I've thought about JaeHo ever since and prayed that the right family would find him. I was devastated to see his picture removed from RainbowKids, because I was sure it meant he was taken off the list of waiting children.

Well... an amazing mother that we know through Holt here in New Jersey is an incredible advocate for waiting children. She is in process now to adopt her fifth child from Ilsan. She posted on the Holt message board that there were a few wonderful children that she'd had the opportunity to meet who were being sponsored with grants from Brittany's Hope. We'd helped her with a Brittany's Hope fundraiser over a year ago, so are familiar with the program. I, of course, clicked over to the list she was talking about and BURST INTO TEARS to see little JaeHo's face with the best news ever next to his name: I've Found My Forever Family!!

I would have recognized his face anywhere, and he's growing up to be a beautiful child. It makes me so very happy to know that someone is going to bring him home and love him forever. It makes me feel, too, like there was a reason (which I should have trusted in the first place) that we were denied a year ago... It was because his perfect family was still out there.

I hope he gets to travel home very soon!

First Snow

I've been a slacker blogger lately. I don't know why. I guess nothing monumental has happened since post #99! We had a short, impromptu photo shoot today when Sam got out of the car after preschool and starting dancing around in the front yard because he was so excited about the snow. Thank goodness I have a great boss who understands the importance of these moments. We were talking about a major project on the phone, and I kept talking while going out in the front yard to take pictures. He has four kids and never gets snow where he lives, so he understood why it was so necessary to multitask at that moment!

We've had kind of a slow start to the New Year, but it's certainly getting busy quickly. The travel has commenced and Sam finds plenty to keep busy. I'm excited to be signing him up for what I call "Soccer Lite." He'll start in March with a tots soccer program that's noncompetitive and essentially consists of a bunch of preschoolers playing any game that might involve a black and white ball. I see it as a good way to run some energy out of my totally wound-up child.

Our homestudy should be in Korea by now. That means we now begin the really agonizing wait of knowing that we're on "the list," but having absolutely no idea when a referral might come. A friend from work did point out that our child's birth mother must already be carrying our child by now. That's bittersweet in the truest sense of the world. I know that we'll have a new baby soon, but this must be such an incredibly hard time for the birthmom. I just can't imagine having to make the decisions she's making. I hope she feels in her heart that someone will give her child a good and loving home. I still think about Sam's birthmother all the time and feel so sad that she can't see what an amazing little person he is.

In lighter news, Sam has joined the near-constant political discussion in our house. Rob and I have been a couple for 17 years now, but this is the first time we agree on a candidate! It's fun... We do talk about every aspect of the campaign quite a bit, and Sam is starting to feel left out. The other day, he came into the kitchen and wanted to know what we were talking about. When we replied, "presidential politics," he was still interested in playing along. So... I asked him which of the candidates on the front page of the paper he thought should be president. He thought about it, stroked his chin and said "Her," pointing to a picture of Hillary Clinton.

"So you're a Hillary fan. Why do you think she should be president?" I asked.

"Because she's a girl," he said.

"Why should a girl be president?" says Mommy.

"Because Mommies are girls," says Sam.

Good answer!

The sentiment only lasted so long, though. The next day, on the way to school, he pipes up that he wants "Daddy to be president today."

I guess I really should have gotten him on video shouting "Go, Obama!" this summer while I had the chance.

This is post #99

So I just noticed that with this post, I am just one post away from blogging 100 times this year. That's a completely arbitrary and meaningless milestone, but it makes me think that this blog is a two-year resolution that I actually managed to keep.

My resolutions for 2008, at least those discussed so far, are financial. Rob and I have been talking a lot about what we need to do to keep working toward our next adoption. That conversation has also sparked others about general "stuff" that we really should get taken care of. (I will also try not to blog with dangling participles next year, but that's a post for another time.)

Here they are, in no particular order:

1. Write down everything we spend for a month, then devise an actual and strict budget. It's not that we don't budget now, but we could stand to be stricter with ourselves. I have a feeling this will entail cash "allowances." A daunting thought, but a wise move, I'm sure.

2. Move Sam's savings into a real 529 and implement direct deposit from both paychecks.

3. Make annual increase in our 403b accounts.

4. (Most likely) Refinance our mortgage to a 15-year note.

5. Formalize our wills and living wills.

These make us sound very grown up, but the truth is that we probably should have done most of this stuff before now. There's nothing like the notion of a huge loan in your future to make you reassess, though!

I don't care what we have to do to make it work. Unless we were to get a rare "sibling call" at some point, I'm sure this is our last adoption. We'll do what we have to do, and then work to make up the time and money for college! That, too, is a post for another day.

Top 7 of 2007

I've seen a few blogs that posted the author's top seven photos of 2007... All of my favorite photos are ones I've turned into layouts that I've loved even more, so I'm posting those instead.

Christmas

I'm still a bit to surprised when I stop to think that this is our third Christmas with Sam. I can recall a couple of Christmases, in particular, when I just wasn't sure that we'd ever have a child to prepare for Santa's visit and watch as he or she ripped into gifts on Christmas morning.

Sam TOTALLY *got* Christmas this year. We faithfully opened the right day on the Advent calendar every day, talking about the fact that Jesus' birthday was coming. We sent a letter (and got an actual reply from "elves" in Santa Claus, Indiana!) to the Big Guy. We baked cookies. We decorated the house...even a tree in Sam's room. We counted "sleeps" until Santa left gifts to open. We talked about what gifts we'd give others we love. It was awesome.

The very best moment had to have been as David, Noel and the kids left on Christmas Eve... Wait. That sounded bad. Them leaving was not the fun part. The fact that we stood outside to wave goodbye when Sam spotted Santa's sleigh in the sky was the prize-winning moment. He yelled "I SEE SANTA!!! I SEE SANTA!! THERE HE IS!!!" so loudly that I'm sure any neighbor who was actually at home heard the commotion. I'm fairly sure you get just one of those totally magical moments when the anticipation is almost palpable.

Rob and I left for church just after the "sighting," talking the whole way about how amazing it was to witness Sam's joy. He stayed home with Nonni and Beth and baked special cookies for Santa before going to bed. For us, while it wasn't planned, it turned out to be nice to experience the candlelight service by ourselves. We missed having our moms with us, but it was sweet to just have some quiet time together.

Sam's been a bundle of energy since coming home from school on Friday night, so we spent today in our jammies and playing with our new toys. Sam is actually looking forward to going to see his friends tomorrow, so Rob and I will have a "date day," running after Christmas errands and doing some of the returning that is best done sans preschooler.

In other news... we had our first homestudy visit for our next adoption this week. We loved our new social worker. She was great about giving us all the new information on the process. I'm used to the agency giving us the longest timeline possible, so as not to set false expectations. Allison told us that there is a possibility we might have another child home next Christmas. I don't think it's likely, but the fact that it's even remotely possible is exciting. That left us to talk baby names again today. I think we're back to agreeing on a boy's name, but not so convinced about a girl's name. I am sure we still have time to ponder some more.

Big {BOY} Pants

Apparently there's something to be said for cold turkey. Sam's been ready to use the "big boy potty" for a long time now, but just tells us that he's "too busy" when it comes time to go. He's using the restroom like a champ at school, but just has zero interest at home.

Well, I decided that any kid who could tell me in these exact words -- Mommy, please leave the room so I can poop alone -- that he was feeling the urge was ready to ditch the diapers. So, that's what we did.

He used that line on me Saturday morning and I replied that I would, indeed, leave the room, but that I was going upstairs to get underwear. I told him that last was his last pair of poopy pants and so it was.

It's been relatively smooth sailing so far. We had one accident yesterday that I won't go into detail about, but I think the fact that the house was full of people gave him some stage fright. The mess was traumatic enough that I think it left an impression. Our only issue is that when we go to put a pull-up on at night, he wails, assuming he's failed at his mission and will not receive the coveted Crash N Go Speed Raceway that we've promised as a reward.

I'm anxious to hear how school went today. I'll be kicking myself for a while if the only step needed to seal the deal was me just decreeing that we were moving on to underwear. Now, actually finding underwear to fit a bottom that has stalled out at a 12-month size is a feat of it's own. I bought the teeniest skivvies I could find, but I'm thinking I'm going to have to see what kind of hot-water tricks I can do in order to keep the things on him!

In other, less personal and possibly yucky news, I finished the LO you see above in honor of Lauren Reid's feature on Dishin' The Digi Coast 2 Coast. The show talks up cool digital products for scrappers like me. I'm new to Lauren's team and was actually surprised that her "Wonky Templates" hadn't been on the show before. They're such fun to play with and stand out from so many of the other shapes elements that I've collected. For all those people I've taken to enabling lately, you can find these and many other fun things at her Oscraps store.

I'm officially on vacation for the rest of the year as of this afternoon! Nice that I've managed to pick up another bug. I hope it's just one of the colds that I've managed to fend off a couple of other times this year, or else I think I'll wind up spending the time I should be finishing up with Christmas plans laying on the couch trying to breathe. What a vacation that will be.

Challenge!

Lauren Reid posted a fun little challenge on her creative team blog a couple of days ago, and I had fun playing along today.

It's kind of a yucky day here... I like snow, but I prefer the cold, wet weather when I don't have to be anywhere. I woke up to snow, left for church in freezing drizzle and came home from church (only to have to return for a meeting an hour later) in sleet. My day got much better when I came home, changed into fleecy pants and scrapped by the fire!

In other news, we saw Ellie's vet at church today. We're not at all sure what to do, but she has a young dog she's trying to place that we are considering. He's only nine months to a year old and was found roaming Fairmount Park, scrounging for food in the trash. She's nursed him back to health and he's being fostered by a family who just doesn't have room for one more dog. They think he might be part Ibizan. He's reportedly great with kids and a really sweet little guy. Part of me thinks Frankie might be less mopey with a companion, but we're also not sure that a new dog when we're waiting for a new child is a good idea.

We'll keep thinking about it. I'll try to make the decision with my head and not my heart!

Missing Ellie

I've been putting off this post because it's just too awful to write about... After five years of various health issues, we lost Ellie on Tuesday, Nov. 20th. She was exactly seven and a half years old.

It's hard to put into words how hard it was to let her go. We had to make the same decision with Heidi just 18 months ago, but somehow, knowing that she'd had 16 years made it a bit easier to take. She was also a bit senile when she died and it was painfully obvious that the time had come. Ellie, after having fended off four major bouts of Immune Mediated Hemolytic Anemia, finally went into renal failure. The vet says the process had been going on for some time, but the end came more quickly than we were prepared for.

I think the saddest part for me was actually watching Rob grieve for the dog that was really his first pet. He had animals growing up, but none for very long, and none that he became very attached to. Ellie bonded to Rob the instant we picked her out of the litter, and he was the one to provide her extensive daily care. I knew that she was too sick for a different outcome when Rob was the one to finally say it was time to call the vet. He loved her too much to see her suffer another day and convinced me to let her go. The last two hours before going to the vet were possibly the longest of both of our lives.

Thankfully, pre-schoolers don't have the attention span to fully "get" something like this. We were totally convinced that Sam was going to be really upset and were trying to figure out what to do. As it turned out, we didn't tell him until after he came home from school on Wednesday afternoon. We sat him down and asked him if he knew what it meant when someone goes to heaven. He had a very brief conversation in which he asked if she was gone forever. When we said that she was and both of us started to cry, he asked, "Can we have pizza for dinner, please?"

A little comic relief didn't hurt!

We had a great Thanksgiving weekend otherwise. We were down at David and Noel's for dinner and spent the rest of the weekend hanging out and getting chores done. We saw "Home Alone" again for the first time in a long time and totally cracked up! Very mature, I know.

The highlight of the weekend was probably our Lowe's find yesterday. They had a $119 pre-lit Christmas tree on sale for $59.99. There was a sign on it that said for "one day only," the tree was just $29. We had a quick conversation and decided that rather than decorate a tiny tabletop tree for Sam's room, that we'd actually put this six and a half footer in his room! We went to KMart across the street and picked up some glittery Martha Stewart shatterproof baubles, some red and silver jingle bells and the requisite tractor ornaments. We still need garland and a tree topper, but we had a blast decorating Sam's very own tree today. He wants to sleep with the tree lit up, but we've convinced him otherwise. I can't wait to sneak in there on Christmas Eve and leave a gift or two for him to discover when he first wakes up on Christmas morning!

I'm sweet and sassy

At least that's what Robin Carlton tells me! This was a seriously fun week for scrapping. I made Lauren Reid's creative team last weekend and nearly FELL OFF my chair when I got an email from Robin Carlton asking me to join her team, too! It's really good that I'm on vacation this week. I have so much to play with!

I also was more than pleasantly surprised to log on to the Digi Dares this week and find my layout posted as last week's random winner. A-shopping I will go...

As I type, my muse, Sam, is standing a few feet away with a GIGANTIC balloon hat on his head. The contraption has a fishing pole thingy on the end of it, and Sam is chasing the fish like a horse trying to get a carrot. It's hilarious. He got it as our friend Milana's birthday party and has been amused for about three hours and counting now. Of all the days for my camera battery to be without a charge!

When we went to leave the party, Sam thought we were going to go without the balloon hat and proceeded to yell, "NOT FAIR, DADDY!" as we tried to urge him out the door. When Rob told him to stop yelling and rethink his attitude, he replied "I'm taking you to the pet store daddy. You're going to be like a sad puppy and no one will help you."

HUH??!!!!!

On a more somber note: Occasionally I ask those who are of the praying persuasion to pray for specific things if and when they read this. I feel like it's just been a week of bad news in many respects. Please keep the family of four-year-old Andrew in your thoughts... Andrew's dad works with me at ACS. The whole family is just amazing. Little Andrew was diagnosed with an rare and aggressive cancer a couple of years ago. He passed away this Wednesday and would have turned five next week. I have thought about this little boy constantly since meeting him and his dad about two years ago. I know who I'll be Relaying for this year...

I'm such a happy scrapper today!

I have seriously loved Lauren Reid's designs since discovering digiscrapping just over a year ago. Words cannot describe how excited I was to learn that she'd selected little ole me for her Creative Team. I've spent just a few minutes exploring her CT message board and she has some seriously talented and hilarious girls working for her! It's going to be a blast.

AND... despite having my first upper respiratory germ fest in a while, I'm happy for other reasons today, too. Even the sensation of drowning while running a marathon cannot dampen my giddiness over driving a Prius for a few days. I know I'm a total dork for feeling that way. I've been wanting a Prius for a while, but decided to stick with my trusty Sienna for the time being. Well... the Sienna needed a little bodywork, so the lovely people at Cherry Hill Toyota loaned me a shiny new hybrid. It is seriously fun to drive. I am totally bitten by the bug again and will be sad to have to return the spiffy little car for my gigantic minivan.

Pre-Trick-or-Treat drama

My dreams of a child who enjoys the eve of All Saints Day as much as his nearly middle-aged father does are dashed once again.

We went through WEEKS of prep to prepare for this day. We carefully selected a Sam-approved costume. We discussed said costume with everyone who would listen. We compared the get-up to that worn by Fireman Sam himself. We went to two Halloween parades. We ate candy every night just to prove that it's all worth it in the end (ok... that last one is just pure self-indulgence, really.)

All for naught.

That pouting picture? It's mild compared to what ensued when Ms. Krystyna (GASP) asked the kids to sing Halloween songs. Sam's response was nothing short of melodramatic. He whimpered. Then he whined. Then he cried. Then he bawled. Then he gave up and left the group to curl up with me.


The poor kid! It's a holiday that's supposed to be fun. I will admit his mood brightened when I became the mom passing out Cheetos to all of the kids in his class. He even smiled and asked for "more cheesy puffs, please!"

We'll see how it all goes tonight. I think it's possible the cold he's fighting just wasn't allowing him to be his chipper self. Well... I'd believe that line myself if the child had EVER enjoyed Halloween. He just cries and whines every year.

We kept Sam home from school yesterday in the hopes that he'd rest up and be happy today. He woke up crying this morning. I asked him if something hurt, expecting him to say his throat hurt or that his nose was stuffy. An aside: his nose should have hurt... His face and bed were totally covered in blood this morning. It looked like some horror flick had been filmed in the bottom bunk while he slept.

But, no. What hurt Sam today? "My arm."

Off to school you go!

Sad day

Well... I haven't blogged in a while because the biggest thing brewing in my personal life was job-related and I didn't think it prudent to do too much speculating before the proverbial chickens had hatched. Turns out that was wise. For the first time in my career, I did not get a job that I interviewed for. Blogs have ears, so I don't want to put pen to paper too much in discussing what the job was and the reasons I was given for the decision, but suffice it to say I'm sad today.

The good news is that I'm blessed to have a job that I love. I said from the get-go with this other opportunity that I wasn't looking, but wanted to consider a position that took me in a new direction and might have reduced my national travel. It's still frustrating. I'm too Type A! Not to mention competitive. When I want something, I like to think I can get it! Who doesn't, though.. right?!

I like to think I'm an emotionally healthy person and that I lived up to my own personal standards today. I took the whole experience as a maturation process (as my mentor so nicely put it.) Going through the motions of an interview forced me to give some deliberate thought to where I can see my career going, and I close this chapter with some good ideas in that regard. I'm also incredibly lucky to have friends in many of the right places. When a few of my closest work friends heard the news, I immediately started getting condolences backed up with discussion of other opportunities. I'd put a few discussions on hold to consider this most recent position, so it's nice to know I'm still marketable... no pun intended!

In other news... Sam CRACKED US UP at dinner today. We decided to take the night off and go out to dinner. While waiting for our meal to arrive, Sam was playing with a new truck at the table. Rob leaned over to give Sam a sweet little kiss on the head, and Sam replied with, "Daddy... What are you DOING to me?!"

Rob said, "Well... I'm just being affectionate. Do you know what that means? Can you show Daddy some affection?"

Sam quickly shot back, "Daddy... Do you need me to take you to the doctor for your affection?"

We laughed so loud we drew attention to our table. How typically "three" is it to think affection and infection are the same thing? I think he's only aware of the word "infection" because I keep telling Rob to call the doctor because I think he's fighting a sinus infection.

Sam's other hilarious moment of the day came on the way to school this morning. As usual, when he saw a large truck, he told me that he was going to grow up to be a big rig driver. I asked him if he knew what Daddy's job was. He said, "Yes. Daddy is a teacher. Maybe I'll be a teacher too. As long as I can drive my 18-wheeler to school. Wait. Maybe I'll be an 18-wheeler teacher!"

Good deductive reasoning, my child. Indeed, it is possible to teach people to drive big rigs for a living.

When I asked Sam if he knew what Mommy's job is, he had to think.

His response? "Mommy... Your job is to fly on planes and take care of me."

Not really that far off, actually!

I spoke too soon

I opened my big mouth before I should have on two accounts.

First, did I actually have the gall to whine last weekend that the adoption "personal data form" was too long? Silly me. I was rewarded for my disloyalty to the process with a big fat pack of papers in the mail on Monday morning. Holy cow. I really did forget how much paperwork there is!

One more rant about the sometimes ridiculousness of this process: Why, oh why, do we need to get fingerprinted again? Don't they track serial killers based on decades-old prints that are on file for years? Is there something about my faulty fallopian tubes that made my fingerprints change since April of 2005? If there is, I will happily stand corrected. For now, I just don't get it.

My second premature celebration is, as you may have guessed, related to the @#$@ fever. It's back. Not with the vengeance that it could be, but still. I cursed myself by actually typing the words, "Am I cured?" to Dr. Fancy Pants. Smart man that he is, he replied that only time would tell. Apparently "time" meant just under 12 hours. That's about how long it took me to go from 97.4 to 101.6.

A coworker suggested it was stress after a particularly trying and disappointing week at work. I wish that's all it was, but perhaps it does provide some perspective.

Speaking of stress, for my fellow Stand Up and Scrappers, is it just me, or does the whole anonymous-wait-for-the-results-for-days-on-end-ness of this whole thing make it just a wee bit stressful? Especially for a hobby! I obsess in ways that I didn't even know I was capable of.

I'm all posted up for this week, though. That's my strategy. Create, allow just a few hours of indecision (not days,) and post away. That leaves much more time for self-doubt... which I'm even better at!

I forgot

I'd forgotten how much paperwork is really involved in adoption! I guess I'd blocked it out... The agency director told us yesterday that she'd send over the "personal data forms" that go with our application so that we can fill them out this weekend. Those three words are an awfully innocuous description for what feels like the third degree on paper!

Sixteen pages of essay questions! I've already spent three hours writing today, and I'm only on page nine! I know.... I know... It's all worth it to have a baby, but I can't help but whine a bit that while I know it's important to thoroughly screen people before allowing them to adopt children, it's crazy how much information you have to give. I can't think of a single bio parent I know who had to recount all of their childhood traumas, every single family member who might have ever had an extra drink or a slight case of the crazies before they got pregnant.

I know. It's different. I don't really mind, but I'd certainly forgotten how intrusive this process can really be. No wonder we were so happy to have a break for a while when we finalized Sam's adoption!

I did take a break from the Inquisition to scrap a page from Sam's first field trip last week. I like how it turned out. I obsessed over scrapping what was such a big, yet little, day. I have no idea why I made it such a big project! I think Stand Up and Scrap stress is starting to rub off on all my scrapping! I might scrap a few more pics of the day once Lauren Reid re-releases Abby's Orchard. She didn't have it in her new ScrapArtist store, but I PMed her at My Scrapbook Art and begged just a little and she said she was going to touch it up a bit and sell it again. WooHoo!

Good news times two!

This has been a pretty good week at our house... Nothing too out of the ordinary, and -- thank goodness -- no new embarrassments with Sam to report. He did have his very first field trip this week. We went apple picking. Sam had a blast, and I said another little prayer of thanks for a job that allows me the flexibility to be there for those fun moments.

I have been keeping track of my temperatures for so long now that I'm starting to think the thermometer might just permanently attach itself to my head (we have the funky looking arterial artery type), but it's finally all over. I suppose I should still knock on wood or something, but I've been fever-free for eleven days now! I've checked in with mulitple doctors this week and the consensus seems to be that the antibiotic did the trick. We'll never know for sure what I had, but one doctor said he's fairly sure it was an infection in my heart lining, secondary to something else I must have had early in the year. My mom gave me some after-the-fact stress by explaining that this particular infection can lead to cardiomyopathy. THANK GOODNESS someone thought to give me drugs on a whim! To quote my favorite doctor, " Sometimes it's good to be all about the science. Sometimes it's good to just throw caution to the wind and do whatever it take to find a cure." You can say that again!

So... The Great Fever of 2007 stories should officially be a thing of the past. So long!

The other, much bigger news, is that Holt finally called today. We have our personal information forms to fill out this week and will be invoiced for our home study update on Monday. That certainly feels official. It feels right to be back at it again, but I was slightly disappointed to learn today that timelines have stretched to 21 months from application to homecoming.

I'm a silver-lining kind of girl and told Rob that at least we won't ever be facing payments for two kids in daycare at the same time. And I can certainly go ahead and make the car trade I've been thinking about... Those car payments will be half-over by the time we have another child to care for! It's not much, but it's a bit to early to really start to dwell again on how long this really will all take. I would like to say we won't obsess like we did waiting for Sam, but no one I know who's gone through it a second time has indicated that it gets any easier!

Embarrassment, preschool style

We had our first real taste of public humiliation at the hands of our son tonight. We ran to Target to pick up a few things and on the way out, Sam was doing his usual routine of talking to anyone who dared make eye contact with him. As we walked past a nice looking older lady sitting on a bench just past the registers, she smiled at Sam and said a very cheerful hello.

What does my child respond with? "Hi," perhaps, or, "Hello?!" Maybe a "look at the new stickers my mommy and daddy just gave me?"

Nope.

"Hey, Mommy! Where is that lady's tooth?! It's missing!"

I walked out of the store MUCH more quickly, just trying to shush him with a simple, "I don't know" response.

That didn't do the trick. He followed up, still within earshot with, "Did the tooth fairy leave her a present under her pillow, Mommy?!"

The embarrassment could have ended there, but that would not have been torture enough for Mommy. Instead, Daddy has to, while still in the store, ask me if the woman was, indeed, missing a tooth. His interpretation of what qualifies as a "safe distance" and mine are NOT the same.

I'm sure it's just the first of many times one of us will embarrass the other!

In other news, I think I *may* have actually gotten an answer to my phantom medical woes of the past few months. To recap, many doctors have poked and prodded to find the source of a long-term "fever of unknown origin." Last stop was my gynecologist to make sure my hormones weren't out of whack. They're not. Or at least no more so than they were through all of our years of regular doctors visits for ectopic pregnancies. That doctor suggested that since he was the "end of the line" as far as check-ups go, that perhaps we should try a course of broad spectrum antibiotics to see if it makes a difference.

Lo and behold, as much as I didn't think it would, it seems like it might be working. I've only have a fever three of the last ten days, which is quite a record for me. I relayed this new development to the infectious diseases specialist (also known as Fancy Pants doctor) and he said that he was in favor of another, longer course of that same antibiotic to "finish" killing whatever germ seems to be responding. It sounds like the last-ditch theory of a secondary infection that may be culture negative might just pan out.

I will be thrilled to be done with all of this, but perhaps just a wee bit peeved that it took months and months for a drug that even Sam has taken to do the trick!

I'll stop now, so as not to appear as though I am looking a gift horse in the mouth.

Week One

The first week back at daycare was, by far, the most successful we've had thus far. Sam adjusted like a champ. He might be a little bit more tired than usual, but not a single (major) meltdown was had for a whole week!

The closest we came to any sort of trauma related to school came on Day 2. Sam is not quite back in the get-up-early groove, and slept through Breakfast Room time. Well, the Breakfast Room is chock full of cool trucks AND his favorite teacher, Ms. Mary, calls that room home. The pull was just too great when we arrived and had to go straight to the Owls room. The poor thing flopped right down in the hallway and wailed that he wanted Ms. Mary and her trucks! More than one door opened, with a teacher peeking out to see what the commotion was! Ms. Krystyna came right to the rescue. She scooped Sam up and pulled down a bucket of Matchbox cars. The tears were gone in an instant. Crisis averted!

Ms. Krystyna seems like she'll be a fabulous pre-school teacher. She sent home an impressive letter about all the kiddies will learn in her class this year... And she's one of THOSE who gave homework on the first night! Sam spent Tuesday night searching the house for the perfect item that starts with the letter 'A' to take in for "Show and Share."

"Show and Share..." What about political correctness made us change the term "tell?" by the way? Is it too bossy and directive for the under-4 set? Has Barney convinced the world that everything about the world requires sharing?! I really don't mind, I just found it mildly amusing when I first heard it. Sam can use all the reminders he can get about sharing... Perhaps some wise teacher decided he wasn't the only one with a case of the gimme-that-back-it's-MINEs!

Tomorrow we're off to the Holt Family Picnic with Kim, Ted and Ethan. The boys may get more out of the car ride with Hard Hat Harry playing, but it will be nice to see some friends that we don't get to catch up with very often. There are a few new babies that I can't wait to hold! The reality that we're ready for #2 has been slowly sinking in this week.... We may have a new baby by next Christmas. I can hope!

Back to School

Being the wife of a teacher means that Labor Day weekend is always bittersweet. Sweet to spend a few relaxing days enjoying what's left of summer; bitter to know that the craziness of the school schedule is starting again. I still have to pinch myself sometimes, though, to think that I have a child of my own also tied to the big Back to School schedule.

Sam heads back to the daily grind of the Laurel Tree Academy tomorrow. It's cool when you're three to just see it as finally getting back to see your little friends and the routine of circle time, playground antics and group naps. I actually think he's ready. Mommy and Daddy are only so entertaining for so long when you're as social as our dear child is.

We were reminded just how social and in need of constant pre-schooler contact Sam is this past weekend when we hit Jellybean Jungle for Sam's friend Adam's birthday party. A few kids from his room at daycare were there, and their eyes all just lit up upon seeing one another. That little taste of the first day should make life easier tomorrow.

Tomorrow night may be another story. We've gradually been sleeping until about 7:30 each morning, and Sam's bedtime has slipped into the 9:30 - 10 p.m. range. With school comes Daddy up at 5:30, Sam up by 6:30 and back to bed by 8ish. That bedtime has always worked for me, personallly, so I selfishly don't mind. I tuck Sam in, then read for a while before enjoying my own kiddie bedtime!

In other scrap news, for anyone who cares, I committed to "Stand Up and Scrap" this weekend.
Basically, Stand Up and Scrap means I bought a kit I would have purchased anyway for a nice donation to the "green" cause and will try to hold my own over six weeks of scrap challenges. I'm intrigued by the fact that the contest is, in theory, totally anonymous. There is definitely a group of "famous" scrappers out there, and a few seem to dominate most of the buzz that's out there. I have no delusions that I'll get far, but the thought of a year's worth of products from my favorite shop makes it just silly not to play along.

Finally, for anyone who's read this far... the REAL news is that we're back "in process." We, ironically, spent Labor Day filling out the paperwork for our next baby! We completed all of the necessary forms and printed the pictures that have to go along with it. We go to the notary early this week, write the checks, and we're off!

We did the math tonight, and it's actually possible that we'll have a new baby nestled in our house by Christmas of next year! My mom is definitely thinking pink, but while we are not indicating a gender preference, we both seem to have an inkling that #2 will also be of the male persuasion. Maybe that's just because we have a name for that one!

My friend Ted is apparently tickled when his name is in my blog, so I'll close by publicly putting a teensy bit of pressure on him and Kim to consider applying, too, so we can enjoy the torture of the wait together. I figure we'll be sharing every gory detail anyway, so we might as well do it simultaneously. Easy for me to say! So... no pressure Ted. Kim and I can just pass the time before you apply by going digiscrap shopping. ;-)

Good news and reality check

The good news is that the gallium scan was negative. NO CANCER. WooHoooooo!! I go back to the doctor again on Thursday to discuss some endocrine tests, but the worst of the search is over. Thank goodness.

The reality check happened this morning at breakfast. My father is in for a visit. Sam was drinking out of his favorite Kansas mug. We talked about how Grandpa lives in Kansas. Grandpa asked him where Sam, Mommy, and Daddy live. Sam replied that he didn't know.

We decided to make the questions less complex:

Grandpa: Where does your mommy live?

Sam: Ummm.. At a hotel.

Uh-oh.

I did revist the issue a few minutes later and he said he knows we live "like a family" and even knew our town and street name.

That's a relief...

He's growing up

First, suffice it to say that the prep from two nights ago was quite effective and I now regret making drinking it sound like the worst part of the ordeal. Such superlatives leave me no room to convince anyone how bad it was. Enough about that. I shudder to recall the drama.

We took Sam to shop for a new nap mat for daycare today. We found one he really wanted online, so went to JC Penney's to see if they had it at the store. They didn't, but we did end up finding some pretty cute clothes there to get the new school year started in style. Both Rob and I were both fascinated and kind of sad to see that he's getting to be big enough that he can pick out some clothes on his own and know what he's doing. Combine that with the new haircut, and it was almost surreal to catch a glimpse of him shopping and be reminded what a little person he is.

He's always been a good talker, but he's also amazing us with the things that come out of his mouth. The "why" questions have started in full force, but he often dreams up answers of his own. He saw a bunny in our backyard this morning, and came up with a chapters-long story about how the rabbit had found herself in our neighborhood and where she was planning to go next. It's so cute to listen to!

Sam has also become quite the reader. He's got the patience for much longer bedtime stories and even "reads" a couple of them himself. I'm amazed to hear him recite all of his "I'm DIRTY" book, complete with the lines about "hydraulic rams and a specialized, maximized loader bucket."

Monster trucks are still dominating playtime. Not only does my child memorize stories, he's great at remembering songs. His current favorite is the incredibly annoying theme song to Hard Hat Harry's "All About Monster Trucks" DVD. A close runner-up is the "Schipoopie" song from The Music Man soundtrack that Rob has apparently been playing as background noise. I myself haven't even dared ask why he owns such music.

Now I know...

Disclaimer #1: I work for the American Cancer Society and truly, truly believe that regular colon screening according to published guidelines is one of the most critical health actions an individual can take to avoid a cancer diagnosis.

Disclaimer #2: Discontinue reading this post if you don't care to read a slightly more...um... personal update than you might have in the past.

So... The Fever of 2007 persists and Fancy Pants doctor ordered one last screening to make sure no stone is left unturned in the big hunt for possible malignancy. This last test is called a gallium scan. It seems it's a rather uncommon procedure and involves the following: an injection of gallium on Day 1. A 60-minute scan on Day 2. Another 60-minute scan on Day 3. It also involves the changing of the camera equipment in the nuclear medicine facility and thus can only be scheduled either first thing in the morning or as the last appointment of the day.

And... oh yeah... If you didn't know, it also involves a "bowel cleanse." That's a little tidbit that they don't tell you when you call to schedule this lovely scan. "Ms. Becker, our protocol indicates no prep is needed for this test. You will feel a slight pinch when receiving the injection, but no other advance preparation is required. You will feel no pain during the exam."

Ok... So the scan itself might not hurt (though I do have to lay still for an entire hour, which is darn near impossible for me) but the lovely little kit they send you home with -- did I mention I wasn't warned about this?? -- is plenty painful enough.

I had a few hours of intense water consumption leading up to the first actual dose of magnesium citrate. That left me plenty of time to consult Dr. World Wide Web to see what I might be in for as the day progressed. I found very little information, but did read one message board post that I chose to hang my hat on and cease the research process. That post indicated that the specific prep I was prescribed was far more palatable than the more common Go-Lightly that is used for colonoscopy.

Well, after having consumed the innocuous looking powder substance just moments ago, I am giving notice to my boss the minute I'm due back from vacation next week. I'm quitting a career I love to devote my entire life to the flavor enhancement of intestinal preparatory solutions.

It's THAT bad. I don't like anything salty, so the description on the package that called this particular pharmaceutical a "saline laxative" should have been my first clue that I was in for a less-than-tasty experience.

I should also add that in addition to not being warned that I was going to need to "prepare" myself for the scan, I also wasn't told that the prep involves a completely liquid diet for three entire days! The first thing with any flavor all day turned out to be, without exaggeration, the nastiest thing I have ever ingested.

I literally gagged down eight ounces of Lo-So Prep and then ranted to Rob about the injustice of the entire situation for a full ten minutes before he escaped to "do something upstairs."

Without belaboring the most unpleasant part of this whole experience, you've probably gathered what I have to look forward to for the rest of the night. I can't believe I'm already this miserable, and the "purpose" of the prep hasn't even commenced yet. At least the next dose of medication isn't liquid. Some genius must have tasted the stuff and figured no one would subject themselves more than once.

I'm also convinced that the beyond horrific taste of Lo-So Prep is quite possibly why the American Cancer Society recommends colon screening just once a decade (after a clean colonoscopy beginning at age 50 unless you are in a high risk category!)

Rant over. For now.

True Companion

August 7, 1998 doesn't seem like it could have possibly been nine years ago. I certainly don't feel old enough (well, on most days!) to say I've been married for nine years. Even harder to believe is that Rob and I have been together for more than half my life now.

I'd get all sappy and sentimental, but I'm sitting here blogging next to my dear husband who would not only make fun of me for doing so, but may not remember what significance the date holds. That's probably not a totally fair statement. If you asked Rob when our anniversary is, he'd know the date right away. Ask him what he's doing on Tuesday, August 7th, though, when you're a volunteer just trying to schedule a Relay wrap-up meeting and he'll reply, "Ummm. I think there's something on that day. I can't remember. Oh, well. Sure! We'll be at the wrap-up meeting. What time?"

Had I not diligently read my email from our staff partner, we would have spent tomorrow night in the company of the other Haddon Twp. Relay For Life volunteers. As sweet as that group of people is, I'd rather not spend my anniversary that way. It wouldn't be the first time, however. I seem to recall another wrap-up meeting for the very same Relay that was ALSO held on our anniversary. At our house. At Rob's invitation. Once is enough, no?

So... I've gently reminded Rob of the special day, and he called to arrange for a babysitter with a whopping 18 hours to spare. My beloved is nothing if not a planner!

Actually, I'm really happy with our plans. It will be nice to go out together and just spend some time hanging out. We're going to see "Hairspray" and then to dinner at Elena Wu. It's exactly the kind of date we might have had ten years ago, before demanding jobs and an adorable toddler changed our schedules entirely.

I'll close with a bit of sap... Rob and I may sound like "The Bickers" on occasion, but at the risk of speaking for him, too, I think we're happier now than we've ever been. There's something incredibly comforting about truly having a partner in everything you do. We know each other better than anyone else and would still rather spend time in each other's company than with anyone else in the world. Too bad there's not more time to spend!

An un-update

I waited patiently for two weeks after having sixteen tubes and four jars of blood products sucked out of my arms to have ZERO to show for it. Well... that's the half-empty interpretation. My blood tests were totally negative. The half-full version of the story is that even more of the serious stuff has been ruled out. I'm headed for one more scan to find "occult cancer," which means yet again that the doctors are thinking a particular type of malignancy is a possibility. While that sounds ominous, I don't believe it's what will be the end result.

Using my stellar diagnostic skills, I suggested a possible solution myself that Dr. Fancy Pants actually agreed with! So... next stop: endocrinology. Basically, I'm hopeful that my inkling that my fevers are temperature fluctuations from some hormone imbalance proves true. Then... no more doctors!!

Rediscovered

After my dad's father passed away last year, my dad sent me a small envelope containing photos of my parents that I'd never seen before. My mom didn't keep any pictures after she and my dad divorced, but I was happy to have some pictures of all of them to keep for posterity. This picture is the only one that I think exists of all of my grandparents together at the same time. The original is pretty faded, so I had a good excuse to play around with Photoshop and scrap the picture for my own album.

This promises to be an interesting week... I go back to the Infectious Diseases guru to get my results tomorrow. I have a suspicion that they won't have found anything new, but I'm hopeful that I'll leave there with some answers. Answers or not, I board another flight this week, but this time with Rob and Sam. It should be fun, exhausting and interesting to have Sam at the nationwide Relay Leadership Summit with me this weekend. Everyone is looking forward to him being there, but I'm a tad nervous about managing to host breakout sessions, help direct general sessions, support Rob as he speaks in front of 600 fellow Relayers AND watch Sam simultaneously. Something tells me that he won't stay quiet just because Daddy is up on stage! I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the volunteers from Colleges Against Cancer find Sam as adorable as I do so that I have a pair or two of extra hands when there's a lot going on!

As I said to Kelli this week, it takes a village to raise a child around Relay.

Sportin a new 'do

After 10 minutes of screaming that made it seem more like two hours, Mr. Sam has a new look. It's hard to believe this is the kid who came home to us with long flowing locks. He plays hard and sweats like a beast, so we took the plunge and cut his hair off today. An unintentional, yet welcome, side effect of this drastic aesthetic measure is that we can avoid another trip to Kids Kuts for a very long time if we so choose.

We also spent today at Lukas' second birthday party. We all had a great time. Sam is in his glory when there's a moon bounce, cake and lots of kids to play with, so he came home deliriously happy and totally tuckered out.

He made some social/bonding headway today, too. He's usually pretty stoic about physical affection with most anyone but Rob and I. During the entire ride from Lukas' house to ours, Sam bemoaned the fact that he left without hugging and kissing everyone at the party. This complaint came AFTER the fact he made me stop in the middle of the cul-de-sac so that he could smooch Aunt Noel and Uncle David before we headed out. I just love watching him love other people!

Back to the drawing board

It's sort of back to square one with all of the fun medical testing. I finally saw the esteemed Infectious Diseases expert today... The good news is he doesn't subscribe to our friend Ted's school of thought and is not considering quarantine as a necessary measure.

The latest is that the Epstein Barr numbers are apparently "meaningless" now that we know the malignancies associated with that virus have been ruled out.

The new plan is to test for many other varied and crazy illnesses, mainly because as the new doctor puts it, I'm "no help at all as a patient." Translation: I give them no symptoms other than fever to go on, so they have no idea where to start.

All of these doctors visits could go to my head and make me think I'm more popular than I am. Everywhere I go now, it seems a whole gaggle of people come in to check out the weird patient. The nurse that precedes a visit at any doctor visit always asks how long I've had a fever. When I reply "about three months" as I did today, the response is always the same. It's some variation of "holy cow" or "Oh my G-d." Since when did they start teaching that as a smart bedside manner in nursing school?

I am heading to Denver, then to Phoenix for meetings starting tomorrow, so I'll be camped out at LapCorp as if there were a new iPhone waiting behind the door for me. I only have about one hour before needing to be at the airport to get half of my blood sucked out. Seriously. I left the doctor today with THREE prescription slips filled with teeny tiny doctor's writing... All names of interesting things to check for. My personal favorite is cat scratch disease. Hmmm.. Wonder where I could have picked that up? Maybe there was an outbreak in some city that I didn't know about and I contracted it from a hotel shower curtain or something. The doctor's the expert. I trust him and will just stick out my arm and keep my mouth shut.

My favorite question of the visit was this: So, you travel out west for work? Were the Santa Anas blowing at any time while you were there?

Uh... Paging Dr. House??

All kidding aside, this doctor is clearly insanely smart and experienced. It was actually interesting to watch his mind work. He also has a great bedside manner. He made me feel like he's concerned and going to get to the bottom of this, but also that I don't need to panic about anything. Even knowing it will take two weeks to get results, I really don't mind waiting that long. Up until now, I've been itching to get results so I know what to worry or not worry about. I feel like I'm in good hands and will just be a patient patient for now!

I'll keep you posted. I'm amazed at how many people have been so gracious about telling me that they're concerned and praying. It really does make me feel better.

My friend Andy should probably take the job of prayer team captain after today. He emailed to check in and say he and Anne were still praying down in Georgia for me. I asked him to say a little prayer for George, too. He sent a reply saying that he would, and not 10 minutes later, I found out George was released to go home straight from the ICU. That's some quick service! The minister himself didn't seem to be able to work that kind of magic... I don't care how it happened. It was good to see George at home and looking good tonight. It puts so much in perspective to see someone you care about go through so much without warning.

It reminds me to do a better job of hugging my family and enjoying life. Worry doesn't make life any more certain... It's always good to be reminded of that.

MommyMo revisited

I keep meaning to "capture" this little memory but forgetting...

When I started this blog, and was not feeling much creativity when it came to finding an appropriate title, I chose "Life as MommyMo" because I just LOVED the fact that Sam would ask for more kisses by saying "Mommy... MO!"

That phase didn't last much longer once he figured out to say more than a word or two, but I kind of liked remembering it every time I logged on to blog something new.

Well... Lo and behold, Sam actually called me "Mommy Mo" the other day. I'm fairly certain he hasn't been reading my blog, so it's not like he hears that combination of nonsense words anymore, but nonetheless, that's what he started calling me. It took me a day or two to figure it out, but I think I've figured out why the name has resurfaced.

Around the same time that Sam started with the kissy "Mommy...MO" requests, we gave Rob a shirt for Father's Day (2005) that has Snoopy on it and says "One Cool Daddy-o." A bit corny, but Rob had officially been a dad for just five days when the gift was given. It seemed perfect at the time because Rob was a huge Peanuts fan as a kid and we attempted to find decor that would allow us to decorate Sam's room with Snoopy as the Flying Ace. No luck, so he just had airplanes!

Anyway, for two years now, we've been referring to Daddy as "Daddy-o" at our house. Sam also started calling me "Mommy-o" not too long ago, then decided to add "o" to almost everything he said. That apparently got boring after a day or two, so he started learning to rhyme, toddler style. Somewhere along the line, he morphed all of that into calling me "MommyMo." As fast as he's growing up, it's so fun to be reminded of some of the babyish things he used to do!

Sam pretty regularly shows us how he's maturing. Rob and I went with my mom to the Farm to Fork dinner at Tortilla Press tonight (a belated Mother's Day dinner from my Mom to me and, as she also put it, a reason to celebrate a clean CT scan. She looks for any reason to celebrate!) Rob's mom was here to babysit. They played for a long time, and little Sam was tuckered out. When Nana went to put him to bed, he pretty much kissed her goodnight, then dismissed her to go let the dogs in! He heard them scratching and told her that she'd "better go take care of Frankie now, Nana. He wants to come inside." He used to whine and find a billion reasons to have us come back to his room, but after sending Nana on her merry way, he tucked himself in and went right to sleep... No more baby!

The saga continues, but good news for now

By now, most everyone knows that the BIG test came back with great news... No purple shirt at Relay for me! I tried very hard to be pragmatic, but truth be told, I was nervous once I heard we needed to "look for malignancy." My doctor tried to tiptoe around the "c" word, but from the moment he uttered those words, I was scared.

I think that's why, even with good news to report, it's been so hard to put virtual pen to paper and confirm that the CT scan showed no cancer. I did this with the ectopic pregnancy a few years ago... When things are that serious, I tend to talk about them when I'm actually with someone, but have a hard time writing about it. It's like the permanency of writing it down bothers me or something.

Anyway, I should get over that because for now, things are looking much brighter. I still have a fever, but I'm optimistic that with a scan of just about everything but my toes, we've ruled out really yucky stuff. I'm off to an infectious diseases specialist next week. Ironically, I'm seeing the same doctor who cared for Andrew. He was so good to Andrew, particularly as things neared the end, that I have a special place in my heart for him. I certainly never expected to see him as a patient myself, but if he can figure out what the heck my weird blood numbers mean, I'm happy to go.

I included the pic of Sam at the top of this post because given all that I've been worried about lately, I'm feeling even sappier than usual about how lucky I am to have Mr. Sam in my life. It's hard to take yourself too seriously when you have a three-year-old whose favorite thing to do is hang upside down from the couch and hum the theme song to Little Einsteins. That kind of reality check is good for anyone!

Sam's in another Nonni phase right now, too. He keeps waking up and asking what time Nonni is coming over. When she left here after a brief visit to use our computer last night he sat on the step as usual, waiting for her to give him her usual honk and yelled, "Bye-bye, cutie pie!" Even our neighbor across the street laughed out loud!