My dirty mind is broken

So my co-worker is a graphic designer.  Once long ago, we had to board some images for research.  Since I am spazzy and she is a graphic designer, naturally the job fell to her.

And she said “I am used to mounting things.  I mounted things all the time in school” or something.

Being a 12-year-old boy on the inside, I snickered “she said mount” and never let her live it down.

Then I go and innocently post about all my plans to mount things.  I even said that Chris said “I cannot mount everything.”  Yet there was no snicker.  It was all perfectly innocent.

I didn’t even realize what I had stepped in.

What is wrong with me?!?!?!?  I REALLY need this vacation.  Hopefully, I shall snicker whenever I mount something.  (Yes, I realized I stepped into that one.)

 

Staycation to-do list

Next week, Chris and I took off work to do things around the house, maybe do a few fun things after the kids get off school.  We agreed to write a list of all the things we hope to accomplish.  I figured I would write my list here, so I feel some semblance of accountability (not that that helped in February, but whatever).

• Sand and paint the side and back doors.  I did the front door last summer and started the back door.  That’s as far as I got.
• Do some organization work in the kitchen like add this shelf on the window.  And plant some herbs to put on the shelf, so I can stop buying herbs only to use 2 pieces and let the rest rot in the fridge.  I also want to reorganize the cabinets and create a place in the back entrance for the kids to put their own stuff away (that is not the floor or kitchen table).
• Frame some vintage ads I saved years ago and put them up in the kitchen
• Possibly buy some wall vases for the kitchen to store/display all of the flower weeds my kids keep picking for me.
• Paint the washroom door with chalkboard paint.
• Organize my desk area, by adding some wall storage, despite my husband’s stance that I cannot mount everything.
• Clean out the cluster-fuck (there is no better word) otherwise known as my bedroom closet.
• Supervise Chris’ yard work and planting.
• Do general cleaning/toy organizing.
• Go to the dentist, get Danny’s casts changed, maybe get my hair done.
• Take the boy to a birthday party.
• Have some fun.

But first a week of work.

Pulling out the secret weapon

When I’ve had a particularly rough week and I am grumpy and exhausted, I have an evening ritual with the kids.

It starts with a carpet picnic.  I throw something quick or frozen into the oven (like chicken nuggets or frozen pizza, maybe some fries if I am feeling ambitious).  The only rule is that the food require no preparation and be easy to eat.  To ensure our picnic is authentic, the kids throw a blanket on the floor and use couch cushions to assign seats.  Danny will sometimes put a toy at everyone’s place.  It’s the greatest thing ever, because I don’t have to cook and the kids think it’s fun and different and spend most of the meal talking about how cool carpet picnics are.

Then we add on movie night, which means I can turn off the lights, curl up under a blanket with a bowl of popcorn and not talk to anyone!  The family cuddling is an added bonus!

I have crafted this entire evening around my need to be lazy and anti-social but those silly kids think it’s a special treat created just for them.  I can even use the night as a bribe for good behavior!  Luckily, they haven’t called my bluff on that yet.

Not a point, but some poop

I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE this commercial!

Picture Day at School

Today was picture day at my kids’ school, conveniently scheduled for after Danny’s surgery.  But we didn’t like the fall pictures that were taken, so we needed to be there for these.

I am a planner, so I called the school yesterday to see when his class would be photographed.  They said they were starting with the 2 year olds (my daughter’s class), which I thought was great because maybe Sam could get photographed before she ripped out her pigtails, and it gave me extra time in the morning.

Danny is not sleeping all that well and tends to sleep a little later in the morning.  He kept my husband up for 2 hours last night while he dreamt about Super Mario Brothers, finding fire power, avoiding the Koopahs, etc.

So I had another mom pick up Samantha and then my mother in law came over, so after I get Danny settled, I could shower, put on clothes, brush my teeth, etc.

But while I was helping Sam into the other mom’s car, the school called.  Danny’s class was first.  So much for plans.

He was barely awake and I had not gotten to the “making myself human” portion of my day, but there was no time for that.  I had to get the boy dressed and out of the house.  Of course, he didn’t like the green shirt I had carefully chosen the day before, the one that brings out the green highlights in his eyes.  He wanted all blue clothes to match the casts.  Cue the mad dash to find clothes that were both clean and blue.  Done but he was somewhat mismatched.

Was there time for me to dress?  Nope.  I threw on a huge sweater to hide my bralessness and made an effort to not be a close-talker, because I brush my teeth after my shower.

But all the rushing was totally worth it.  The kids were so happy to see him and he was positively glowing from all the attention.  And he got another caterpillar that we can watch transform into a butterfly.  Last year I was terrified that we would kill the thing but this year I am grateful for the distraction.  As soon as he got home he threw himself on the floor and started building a castle for the little guy.

Tonight, we get to go to kindergarten orientation for the boy.  I can’t believe my baby is about to start kindergarten.

Eventually, my posts will go back to having a point, I promise.

My boy is back and ready to impress….

With both his Mario Wii skills and the few steps he has been able to take.

His improvements over the past few days are nothing short of astounding.  He is in good spirits, smiling and laughing and playing with his sister, as well as teaching everyone how to play the Wii.  And he is no longer on any pain medication, mainly because the ibuprofen tastes bad and he sees the soreness as a worthwhile trade-off.

He is playing far too many video games, but I think he’s entitled and I am using it as incentive to get him standing up and taking a few tentative steps.  It’s clear that he is going to have to teach himself how to walk again.  He can bear weight but balancing is proving to be difficult.

But to think that he has gone from being on morphine to being on nothing and taking a few steps in a matter of days proves just how cool he is.

I am spoiled and ashamed

As you all know, my boy had surgery yesterday and is now saddled with two knee-high casts.  I thought he did a great job yesterday, but I think part of me expected him to be over it today.

He is always so reasonable and mature and polite and well-behaved, that today when he was whiny and fresh and inconsolable, it caught me completely off guard.  Don’t get me wrong, there were times today when he was in great spirits, smiling, joking around and making up songs, but the rest of the day?  Oh boy.

He’s usually such a trooper who finds the positive in everything and always finds a reason to say “I am lucky, because…”, so I somehow expected him to roll with this.  I spent most of the day complaining about how whiny he was and I was half joking, but just half.

But he’s just a kid.  What the hell was I thinking?  He’s not the mature adult he often acts like.  He’s five and he’s in pain and uncomfortable and sleep-deprived and on painkillers.  Of course, he is going to be grumpy and unhappy.

I have no right to be unhappy about that.  Tomorrow is going to be a better day, because I am going to be better.  I am going to remind myself that he is just a kid who has been through something really rough and he’s still going through it.  And just like we are telling him he needs to deal with the pain and start moving around, because it will be better for him in the end, I too am going to deal with the whining, because he’s my baby and I love him more than life itself.  I may not smile about it, but I am not going to complain about it either.

Resolution Part 1

Now that I am thinking clearly, I figured I owed this story an end, at least an end to Part 1 of the action.  Although, I am pretty sure most of my 15 or so readers are either on my text list or are my facebook friends or both, but whatever, here are the details.

The official name of the surgery was “gastrocnemius and soleus recession, bilateral”.  The whole thing from them putting him to sleep to us being allowed to see him was just under 3 hours.  Danny was brave right until the last few minutes, but then the anesthesiologist got his competitiveness going by asking if he could blow harder into the mask.  And he could, until he was asleep.

The last hour of waiting was the hardest.

It also became abundantly clear that dealing with kids was somewhat unfamiliar to the hospital, because they let him wake up before they told us we could see him.  So by the time we got there he was awake, terrified and screaming and the nurses hovering over him were nervously saying “Look, there’s your mommy!  She’s here!”

I let Chris deal with the doctors and focused on hugging and soothing my boy.  I know my presence helped, but the kid was scared and in pain.  Through the hysterics it was hard to tell what was the biggest issue.  I know over the next hour or so he did a lot of crying and screaming about the “castsess” hurting him and they gave him a lot of drugs.  Nothing seemed to work.  Aside from waiting to see him awake after the surgery, this was the hardest part.   My boy was hurting and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.  But at least I knew the pain was temporary and that he was going to be okay, so the relief helped a lot.

During the screaming part of the day, the nurses kept trying to distract him.  This boy has always been impossible to distract and yesterday was no exception.  One of the nurses pointed at his gown and said “Oh, are those bears on your gown?”  Danny gave her a death stare and said “Just give me the medicine,” leaving out the unspoken “bitch” that the look on his face clearly conveyed.  Chris and I laughed and it helped.

Finally, they decided it might be muscle spasms and gave him some Valium, which did the trick.  He fell asleep fitfully after that.  When he woke up to complain about the pain he was whining and/or crying, but no longer screaming.  Whining I could deal with.  It was a definite improvement.

Because of all the pain he was in, the nurses thought we might want him to stay overnight, so they had a pediatrician come to talk to us.  Once she made the overnight recommendation, my boy magically turned around.  5 years old and he’s already milking the system.  I am so proud.

Long story short, after mix ups with the prescriptions (which Chris dealt with) and moving to a different recovery room, my boy was ready to go home that night.  He was even joking around.  I think the highlights of his day were peeing in a bottle (twice), farting on my hand while I was putting on his underwear and riding in a wheelchair.  He pointed out the sites to the nurse as she wheeled him out and when I told the nurse that he only stopped talking when he was sleeping, he gave me a dirty look and said “Not funny, mom” and I knew my boy was going to be just fine.

He is now milking his injuries while breaking in his new Wii and awaiting his many visitors (because a boy as awesome as he is is loved by many).  He has a rough life.

He is going to need new casts and we (mostly Chris) have many sleepless nights ahead as he adjusts to his nighttime knee braces, but he’s a trooper with a good sense of humor, so we will make it through.

Passage of time

Danny is in surgery now. His dad and I have been doing fine passing the time chatting and playing angry birds. But as we near the two hour mark we are getting antsy. Chris is off for a walk and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest.

I think Danny is probably doing better than anyone. He was laughing and joking until a few minutes before we went into the OR. But even in the er he let the anesthesiologist make him laugh and show him how his breathing was changing the lines on the screen. He handled everything admirably. I just can’t wait to see him smile again!

Fear

I don’t normally see this as a place to dump my feelings. Usually I have an idea I mull it over I draft it edit it and proofread. This week I am going to make an exception. I am in fact typing this on my phone autocorrect and all with minimal punctuation because going to the comma screen is a royal ass pain.

I am doing this for two reasons. I need to talk about it and because I did a random google search and found a YouTube videovideo that provided lots of comfort so maybe this will help someone else.

My son is a toe walker. Has betn his whole life. I do it too so I was concerned but not overly. Finally the pediatrician and I realized he could not put his heels down so we went to a pediatric orthopedist. Three specialists later and my son is due for surgery in the morning and im scared. Scared about the incisions the anesthesia the recovery time in double walking casts. All of it.

We spent months laboribg over this decision dragging to the city to see doctor after doctor. Due the severity of his muscle contraction they all felt surgery was the best approach and I do too.

I know the doctors credentials. You don’t get to be chief of orthopedics at a respected children’s hospital by being a hack. Another specialist I spoke to raved about him. I even read patient reviews. Not a complaint in sight.

I do think this will be a good thing for him. He lives to run but lately he’s been slowing down and getting tired to easily. His cheetah speed is a point of pride for him but he doesn’t have it anymore. I hope when the casts come off he will again.

He’s a tough resilient incredibly mature young man and I am sure he will impress me with his good spirits and his energy. He always does.

But tomorrow my morning I will be bringing my beautiful perfect baby boy to the hospital so some guy can cut him open. And I am terrified…