Life Family and the Pursuit of Sanity

or… adventures in infertility and babies and family drama!

You Weren’t Looking for a Cohesive Thought Were You? January 30, 2012

Filed under: Baby G,Big C,Family,We're parents? — arminta @ 4:34 pm
Tags: , , , ,

Hello, so I have like 50 little things flitting about in my brain that I want to share. Guess what that means? Bullets!

  • Aunt C: NOT CANCER!!!!!! Emphysema, but NOT CANCER!!!!! We are so relieved and happy that the news isn’t as bad as it could have been. That said, as soon as we found out she wasn’t dying G went back to not wanting to reach out to her. He is still very hurt by her actions. I am less so. Don’t get me wrong, I was good and pissed at first, but honestly… she’s had 50 years of getting steamrolled by her sister and this was just one more example. So, yes, I think she should be the one to apologize and I think she should reach out to him. But… I think who ever has to do the reaching out, they should talk it out. Baby G and Uncle P should not suffer because of Grandma Psychopants. Also, I think having the incentive of Baby G being allowed to come over more will help them quit smoking. (Obviously, can’t let the asthmatic baby go over there, especially when it’s winter and all shut up, regardless of the relationship stuff, because of the smoke.)
  • La Diabla: This crazy bitch is a whole other story. I think part of the reason G isn’t wanting to reconnect with Aunt C is because he’s afraid of it opening the door for more contact with his mother. Since the fight earlier this month they hadn’t had any contact. Until… the heifer followed his truck one day last week while he was meeting one of his guys out on their route. She then got out and IN FRONT OF HIS WORKER acted like a loon (being all giggly and happy and trying to hug on him) and asked him to go get lunch with her. Like, what? He wasn’t at work? So, he politely (remember, his guy is right there watching this whole scene) told her that he was at work, and very busy and he’d talk to her later. So, she stood there next to her truck and watched him and his guy work and openly cried. He was so pissed. Fine, you want to talk? Let’s start with calling off work hours and having a conversation and not being nuts. I don’t know what he told his driver. Anyway, she hasn’t tried to call since, but I’ve gotten a couple of hang up calls (her signature move) and she’s driving by the house several times a day again. You know what she needs? A job. In California. I was going to say Alaska, but I have fantasies of moving to Alaska.
  • Asthma: Can kiss my ass. Poor Baby G had a runny nose last Tuesday, and is now in full blown Yellow Zone again. No wheezing so far, but I started the med’s when the night coughing started. Poor baby. At 17 months, one of his words should not have to be “puffy.” At least we know it’s helping, because when he’s having a coughing fit, he looks relieved to see it. IDK if the runny nose triggered him, or if we got exposed to something new/more at Children’s…
  • Thankfulness: I am currently making some micro-preemie hats for a friend of a friend’s baby. She was born at 26 weeks and only 1 & 1/2 pounds. I hate pre-eclampsia. But, her story reminds me of how much worse our outcome could have been. Even though Baby G had to come early, he had 12 more weeks than this baby. He was full size, more than 4 times bigger than this little girl. Carried precisely to term. We were lucky. Of course, the other side to that is knowing what an impact our losses have had on Big C. When he heard about this baby, being born and alive and breathing on her own and being a kick ass little miracle for how tiny she is, he wasn’t happy. His response? “I don’t want to hear too much about that baby, because I don’t think she can stay alive too long.” An eight year old should not have to know that babies can die. Of course, I told him all about Bobby & Maya and Ainsley. I told him all about the miracles of modern medicine. I tried so hard to make him believe that I wasn’t thinking the very same thing. I’m pretty sure I failed, though, because I heard him telling his Nana later that he didn’t think that baby could breathe with such tiny lungs. But… she is breathing with those tiny lungs. Nearly a week now. And I’m making her hats. Because I can’t do anything else and I need to do something.
  • Speaking of making hats… Baby Hooked Boutique is doing really well! Today is the last day of V-Day design and listing before I move onto St. Patrick’s Day. Also, getting a new website up for it! Will get you the link when it’s ready for visitors.
  • Baby G: Other than the asthma, he is doing so great. He is scary smart. He counts to three, you heard all the animal sounds he makes, he knows all of his body parts, he’s naming colors (green & blue he gets every time, the rest he’s getting about 75% of the time) and he is starting to recognize letters. Two and three word phrases are a daily thing. He asks questions. Well, he asks “Where’d he go?” He understands the answers. Scary smart. He still eats crayons, don’t get me wrong. He’s a toddler. He makes messes and puts stuff in his mouth and tests limits and will cut a bitch over his Elmo toys (or just scream and push her down). But terrifyingly smart.
  • Banana-Gate: Banana’s are losing some of their power, but here’s a fun poop story! I talked to the pediatrician about the bananas. He said 1/2 a banana a day. 1/2!!!! Yeah, that wasn’t happening. So, I started offering 1 banana with breakfast, and limiting him to 1/2 a banana at lunch and dinner. Wanna know what happened? He got constipated. The nurse informed me the lack of bananas couldn’t possibly be why he got backed up, because bananas are constipating. Three days, no poo and a suppository later I decided he can have as many bananas as he wants. After a couple days getting re-regulated, and having plenty of bananas, no more poo trouble. So… bananas are back on the menu! (He’s eating about 3-4 a day, now. But, he eats plenty of other foods, too, he isn’t only eating bananas.)

Well, I think there was more, but certain people decided to take a short nap (f’ing asthma cough!), so I gotsta dip.


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