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Showing posts from October, 2007

not so good Friday

Most of Friday night was spent in the ER of Children’s Medical City in Dallas. Owen was wheezing again…..and the inhaler (yes he already has an inhaler) wasn’t doing the trick. A little before 3 am, almost 6 hours and 4 rounds of oxygen later, we finally got to go home. This wasn’t Owen’s first trip to get oxygen – but it was the first time in a full fledge emergency room. I watch lots of medical shows….House and Grey’s……and it didn’t feel anything like that. My resident wasn’t Meridith Grey, there was no McDreamy or grumpy man with a cane. Just a kid struggling to breathe. My kid. There were moments that I wanted to cry. I was scared. Owen was getting worse and I couldn’t fix it. I knew in the back of my mind that he would be ok. It was just asthma. A few breathing treatments and some steroids and we would eventually get to go home. Some kids don’t have that luxury. But I still wanted to cry. I kept having to tell myself not to think about it, to just keep going. The hours

haircut = little boy and bye bye sweet toddler

BEFORE AFTER When i picked O up today he was a mess. I asked his teacher if he showed up with his hair brushed this morning, and she swore he did. Poor kid must have gotten the Wallis wave. All of Shaun's family has straight thick hair. Mine is wavy. Not good wavy. Old inconsistent perm wavy. One side will be perfect, while the other kicks out the complete opposite way. Also humidity is the enemy. So after Owen's nap he had one side marching to it's own drummer, something (hopefully lunch and not snot) matted into another portion and an unfortunate cowlick. I decided it was time for a hair cut. It really was pretty long. I could have put it in pig tails if I wanted. I asked the lady at Kool Kuts if she could do a faux hawk cut....thinking it would be kept long on top. Kind of inbetween skater and preppy and he wouldn't have to lose all that pretty blond hair. Turns out, O picked today to be an angel and he sat there perfectly in his little firetruck seat while she cut..

please forward to 10 of your closest friends or terrible horrible no good things will happen

email forwards. really. people still send those. lately i have gotten at least 2-3 silly forwards a day from someone new to my email address. some of them are cute and funny but, i hate forwards. i feel bad for posting this so publically. What if he/she reads it and gets his/her feelings hurt. email forwarders do seem to be the type to get hurt feelings easily. occasionally i will forward something on if it is particularly cute, clever or funny........but it has to be really good. i hate opening my inbox and seeing all these silly warm feel good powerpoints, or friendship or men bashing or cute little boys peeing on the toilet seat. i waste my time by reading most of them. what if there is a really good one in there......i do not want to miss out. no i do not believe that if i don't forward it to every person in my inbox that i will have bad luck for the next 77 years. I do not believe that if i do forward it that I will win the lottery. I do not believe that if i forward it to 50

quarentine

Owen has about a dozen dots on his face. This time not from the __________ he grabbed off the counter and rubbed all over it ( fill in the blank w/ any of the following: lipstick, gluestick, marker, pen, chapstick). Earlier in the week, I picked him up and checked his cubby for old sippy cups, half colored artwork and the infamous daily report. Instead was a very official looking note stating someone at the school had been diagnosed with chickenpox. I ignored it. Owen has had the vaccine and I think even the booster. The school is big -- what is the liklihood that O has even been in contact w/ this germy kid. The sheet sat in his cubby for a few days until I finally transferred it to the floorboard of my car. Then Friday, I went to pick up O and noticed a few pink dots on his face. Suddenly that worksheet flashed in my head. I questioned the teacher ( his usual one had already gone home). She said she had already asked someone and they didn't think it was chicken pox. I told her th

a nothing saturday.

Days like yesterday only come around 3-4 times a year. It was a nothing Saturday. No weddings, no birthday parties, no traveling, no anything. The Tech game wasn't even on tv. I slept until almost 8 am, went and got donuts at Owen's cute pleading. Picked up a bit, but only a bit and eventually put on a bra. No shower. No makeup. It was a definately an old pair of jeans and tshirt kind of day. We spent most of the morning playing in the cul-de-sac with neighbors while Shaun painted the trim on our house. I heated up lunch and then headed over to B&N for some coffee and to let Owen chase Maddy up and down the aisles. Apparently a nothing Saturday also include NO NAP for Owen. More playing outside, an attempted nap for me and I ignored the laundry that needed to be hung. Leftovers for dinner and lots of college football. I did get a bit ancy at 8 and insisted on getting out for icecream. Owen crashed the second we got in the car and I crashed soon after getting home. Next Satu

wedding season

I thought my wedding days were over for a while, but I have been to 2 weddings in the last 3 weeks and 2 more invitations just came in the mail. There have been lots and lots of baby showers in the last few years, but only a few weddings. I miss them and not just the free wine and cake. I like getting dressed up. I like an event where most people are actually on time. I like hors d'oeuvres and chocolate covered strawberries. I like watching my son dance with the flowergirls. But I love, the moment when the bride enters the room. I love when someone's voice quakes a bit as they make promises to each other. I love the lines "for better for worse, in sickness and in health". I love it when the preacher says, "what God has joined together - let no man put assunder". I love that I can't go to a wedding without comparing each moment to my own. I never understood why people cried at weddings until I got married. Now, there is always at least a moment ( if not m

room to breathe

My front flowerbeds are the worst on the street. They are full of weeds. Occasionally I get motivated and take a crack at them. I pull and tug and itch and scratch and promise to keep up with them better. Before I know it, and much to my neighbors-who-like-to-spend-hours-and-hours-on-exterior-home-maintenance chagrin, they are overgrown again. This is a metaphor for my life. My calendar gets overwhelmed and I cut here and there ( usually by getting sick or burned out) and swear to weed a few things out. Just like my flowerbeds I usually fail. I like busy. Well not the busy, tired, driving from one place to another part, the leaving one thing early and getting to another late, getting home after owen goes to bed, picking up something to eat in the drive through bit. I like the people and the coffee and the fellowship and getting to hear everyone's stories part. Lately I have gotten good at weeding things out (with the exception of my flowerbeds). Early in the summer, I had 2 soccer