Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Our Early Morning Adventure

Last night/early this morning, Nathaniel and I took Summer to the ER. It was totally unnecessary. Of course, we didn't know that before we got there. Summer is generally a good sleeper at night, but she woke up several times before 10pm screaming, loudly and for long periods. So we went and got her, figuring she was teething and shouldn't have to suffer alone and in the dark any longer. She was dripping tons of snot, so we sucked it out with a sucker. Then she threw up. Then she started making these "ehhhhh" screechy-sounding noises. Then she felt hot. Then her temperature measured 102.3 or something. That was on Tylenol. I freaked out. We gave her more Tylenol. A while later, Nathaniel took the thermometer out early and it measured 102.8. That was when we packed up and headed to the ER.

When there, a nurse got Summer's vitals. The main reason for writing this post is to remember how cute it was when she wrapped a blood pressure sensor around Summer's tiny big toe. Summer just sat there, looking at it, lifting her foot up and down. So cute. The nurse took her temperature, which had decreased to 102.2. Good sign.

Then we waited for a room. We waited. And waited. And waited. Forty-five minutes into the wait, Nathaniel said, "We should bail." Looking back, I had no idea why that isn't what I did. Summer looked thrilled to be up so late and in a new place. She did not look like a sick baby.

An hour and fifteen minutes after our arrival, we went back into a room. A nurse greeted us and asked us more questions. And then we waited. And waited. And waited. At one point, Nathaniel had a nice little nap in the chair while I showed Summer all the fish in the room. Definitely not a sick baby.

The doctor came, and he said that the fever meant there was an infection in the body. It was likely viral, and because she was over three months, she had immunities and could fight it off. There was a slight chance it was a urinary tract infection, which could be really bad, but it was likely related to all the snot coming our her nose.

Why could the internets not have told us that a few hours earlier?!? Why did we need to spend two and a half hours in the ER in the middle of the night to have a doctor tell us that? Google, you have failed me.

The nurse came in and checked her temp again: 99 degrees. When she told me that, I felt pretty dumb for being there.

On the bright side, Summer got a cool new toy strapped to her leg:


Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Christmas Break

Hello, friends. I’m sorry I haven’t blogged in forever, not because I labor under the illusion that my short absence from blog-land was a source of stress, but because I fear I’ve given people the false impression that my last post – you know, the one where I was freaking out about momhood – represents the current state of my mind. Your comments were truly so helpful – so helpful that I decided that I’m doing great and I’ve been living it up ever since. I do have freak-outs, but fortunately they don’t last weeks.

Nathaniel is done with finals. Blessed day. It’s been so wonderful having him home. This week, I have taken a nap every single day. So not only am I sleeping through the night, but I also am sleeping during the day. I haven’t done that since…yeah. It’s been a long time. The sad thing is that naps don’t really make me feel better. I think I’m like a 21-year old who insists on drinking every alcoholic beverage in sight: sure, it makes you feel like crap, but you have to do it just because you can. Also, it’s been so much fun to just hang out with Nathaniel. Turns out, he’s really funny and cool and witty and stuff.

Since my last blog, I have thought of a gazillion posts and this is my attempt to condense them. We’ll see how it goes.

I’ve been thinking a lot about two words: cheesy and ironic. They don’t have anything to do with other, so they each deserve their own paragraph. Hmmm, this isn’t going so well…

Cheesy. I was listening to the radio a few weeks back and the lame, generic, Top 40 station I listen to (can you tell how proud I am to listen to those stations?) advertised itself by describing the mix of music it plays. There was some rock, some hip hop, maybe some eighties, but the last line was “with a little bit of cheese,” or something like that. I thought it was interesting that the station admitted to playing cheesy songs. My first reaction was something like, “How sad that they have to pander to the general public who laps up lame music.” Yeah, ridiculous reaction, I know, because who is a member of that general public lapping up cheesy tunes? Me. While I haven’t plunged into the country music arena, I do like cheesy music. For example, I love Taylor Swift. I love to hear about the guy who makes her cry into her guitar. I’m so happy for her when I hear about the guy who has talked to her dad and tells her to pick out a white dress. I love almost any song that celebrates love and life and happiness, or that wants to but is thwarted.

And this isn’t just about songs. Movies, books, stories from friends/acquaintances/people I don’t know: if they’re cheesy, chances are I’ll love them. My blog? Full of cheese, too. Sure, I can get annoyed when people are freaks about love or happiness or whatever, but I suspect I have a much higher tolerance for this sort of thing than others. So I decided that "cheesy" no longer contains any pejorative connotation for me.

Anyway, I typically tone down the optimism and gushing in my blog (I know, can you believe it?), and I will continue to do so a bit, but I think I’m going to let it fly a little more. More spurting (I need a synonym for “gushing”) about Summer, about Nathaniel, about my church, about my family, about Nathaniel’s family, about friends, about life. I’ve always loved life. Life is great.

Wow, okay, I’m tired. Irony and feminism will have to wait for another day.


Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Seven Whole Months and a Confused Mother Trying to Balance Her Life

Summer was born seven months ago today. I'm amazed how fast these months are going. I wouldn't believe it if I didn't see her monthly posts so close together.

I know these monthly posts are so unoriginal, but I feel like I really need to do them because this is as close as I get to a baby book. I have to do something to remember her when she's little and all her milestones.

And speaking of milestones, Summer finally crawled. Not really, though. She did one crawl-step and then plopped down on her tummy again. She has her army crawl down and she goes really fast when she does it. Plus she's been rocking on her hands and knees for over a month now, so it's about time she just give it up and crawl like all the other babies are doing. Wow, look at what a great mom I am, encouraging my child to hop on a bandwagon. Summer won't have any issues, I'm sure.

She loves to get under the exersaucer, and because she's too young to understand when I'm laughing at her I get a good endorphin boost when she tries to get out.

Clearly, Summer gets her amazing muscle tone from her dad:

These were taken a couple of weeks ago.

Okay, Summer, can you get out?

Okay, arms out. Now try the legs!

Hey, little one, you have to use your right arm.


And these were taken today. I know this is a ton of exersaucer pics, a plethora really, but I just find my baby adorable, and I know there are grandmothers looking at this blog who love to look at this girl's mug almost as much as I do.

Mmmm, I swear she's usually wearing pants.

I have conflicting feelings about being a mother. I really don't feel like I'm very good at it. I enjoy my life, but sometimes I feel like Summer just tags along with me while I go about my business. I always planned on being a very proactive, involved mom, even when my kids were really young. And I was, to a fault, until it drove me crazy and my life collapsed around me and Nathaniel told me that Summer really didn't need all the attention I was giving her. I think now I've gone into the other extreme.

I just don't know how to keep the house clean and feed my family and work and do the little hobbies I want to do and have a relationship with my husband and be a good friend and good member of the church and be a good sister/daughter and take care of a baby. When I look at the list, I think something's got go give, but there's nothing I want to let go. I remember a lesson by a former bishop who asked us to draw a little pie chart and put in it all of the different commitments we have. In that chart, we were to put how well we thought we were doing in each area.

Bishop Klein said, "You're never going to have 10s in every one of these areas. In fact, you probably shouldn't. If you have an eight in every one, you're doing amazing. Most are going to be fives or sixes." Or something like that.

That's pretty much what I had. I went from feeling like a failure to feeling like I was doing okay.

Now, I feel like a failure. I just look around me and it seems like everyone is able to do so much more than I do. I really think they're just more efficient with their time. Just now, it took me four hours to make dinner and that doesn't include washing the dishes. It's so hard for me because I can't keep my focus on something with a baby in the background, so I constantly have to re-group and remember what the crap I was going to do with the frozen vegetables and knife that are sitting on the counter.

So how do you do it?


Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Tiger Woods and High School Proms: a post so awesome it needs no pictures

Apparently, the National Enquirer “reported” that Tiger Woods was having an affair with someone. Woods calls these statements malicious rumors, or something like that. Other “news” outlets picked up on that and one went so far as to suggest that Woods go public about his affairs a la Letterman.

Woods might be having an affair. I don’t know. I probably know as much about the whole situation as the goober who reported on it from the National Enquirer.

We all have a hunch that the National Enquirer is full of crap. Except me. I know. Here’s how.

Back in 2000 (remember that year?), Christina Aguilera came to my prom. I was a junior, it was my first year at the school, and I was on the high school newspaper staff. All of this meant I would be attending the prom date-less, covering it for the school newspaper and some other local papers.

I snapped some pictures and got an autograph. The event was a bust. You can read my rather pathetic article in the Augusta Chronicle here . There’s also a picture of what I looked like back then, if you need a good laugh.

A few days later, the advisor for the school newspaper called. A woman showed up at the school on a Saturday, looking for pictures of the event. She said she did freelance for the New York Times, the Chicago Tribune, USA Today, etc. I told her no problem. (Stupid!! I probably could have bought a gym membership with the money I got from those pictures.)

A week or so later, an article about the event appeared in the National Enquirer, accompanied with my pictures (grr!). Here is an excerpt:

"Christina was rude, crude, selfish and disrespectful," Bebe Bala, who helped out at the "Prom of Your Life" told the ENQUIRER. Dorothy Hatch, a Greenbrier High School junior who covered the prom for the Augusta Chronicle, reported, "It could not have been the prom of Colin's life..(He) was in the back most of the time, mostly standing by himself!" Continued Bebe, "It was clear that the prom was the last place Christina wanted to be. While getting ready, she kept hissing: 'I can't believe I'm going through with this! I can't go out there!'--Christina and her road manager had a huge fight over whether she'd do two or three songs. And she gave strict orders--"If the DJ plays a Britney Spears song, I'm out of here!" She was so busy complaining, she was 45 minutes late to the stage. A prom guest fumed, "After her ridiculously short performance, Christina was ushered to an interview area to meet with Colin. He gave Christina a rose, but she barely remembered this poor guy was supposed to be her prom date. She said, 'Oh you're the kid who won the contest', handed him one of her CD's and moved on. Her whole visit amounted to two quick songs and a cloud of dust!" Concluded Bebe: "Christina may be a big star, but she's a real zero in Augusta!"

I’m pretty sure I didn’t say those things. Okay, it’s possible. The poor guy did stand in the back most of the time. But Bebe Bala? He/she/it does not exist. Whoever wrote this article totally made up a source. And Ms. Aguilera wasn’t late because she was throwing a fit. She was late because she had the flu. Really. I found out later from her mother that she threw up in between the two songs. Poor girl.

So the National (every time I write that I accidentally write “Nathaniel” first) Enquirer wrote this completely bogus story, which got picked up by other bogus sources. An excerpt from “Christina Aguilera: A Star is Made: An Unauthorized Biography:”

Dorothy Hatch a writer for the high school newspaper claimed, “Colin [the contest winner] gave her a rose and said something like “Oh, you’re the kid who won the contest’ and gave him and his friend a CD and that was it.” [sic]


What can we learn from this? Pop stars do not belong at high school proms. Amen.