In Which My Heartstrings Are Pulled in Many Different Directions

Yesterday I received an e-mail from my former boss telling me that a woman, let's just call her Ladybug, had stopped by the office looking for me. She thought that Ladybug had been a former housing client of mine.

I looked at Ladybug's name and indeed, she was a former housing client of mine. One who'd been a giant success story when it came to how well her cocktail of psych meds worked for her - sadly many people with schizophrenia improve with medication, but are still never really "normal" again, whereas Ladybug was pretty damned "normal" once she stabilized on her meds. I was curious as to what prompted this reach out after nearly 5 years of me having been gone from the center.

Today I called her, and we talked a bit before she revealed the reason for her wanting to get in touch with me. Being pregnant, I teared up with emotion when she told me that the 4 (or more? she couldn't remember anymore) people who'd been put in my housing coordinator position over the past 5 years have "never even come close to how good you were, Heather. Never. And I think about you a lot."

Guilt seared me as I was instantly back in time 5 years ago and worrying about if my clients would receive a good replacement for me. I'd had my doubts then and now I had confirmation.

Pride fluffed my ego as I felt good about my past performance.

Helplessness hit me as I am no longer a social worker and removed from that world.

I was humbled that in 5 years I have not given many second thoughts to the people for whom I used to work so hard, and yet one had not forgotten me.

Anyway, Ladybug's oldest daughter had had a hard semester at the community college and her student aid was being pulled. She had to take 2 [self-paid] courses with a C or better before she would get her funding back and was now considering dropping out at the prospect of having to take classes without any means to pay for them. Like any good mother, Ladybug does NOT want to see this happen and was wondering about resources that could help her daughter remain in school.

And of course, I was stumped. But, I gave her my standard, "Why don't you call 211 and see if there is anything they can hook you up with," response with the caveat that I wasn't sure if she'd find anything, but it was worth a shot.

We talked some more and at the end, Ladybug asked me shyly, "Is it ok if I keep your number and call if anything else comes up?"

I'm not a social worker anymore, and now I can put myself forward as just a person who loves others as Christ has shown me to do. As a social worker, this would have been a taboo move to make, but there was something freeing about the answer I put forth: "Sure, Ladybug. Maybe we can even get lunch together sometime."

I used to think that God called me to my work within the constructs of the institutions that I was employed by over the years, but with this phone call, I see that He has freed me from those constructs and I can do the same work as He leads me to do it and still be here for my children and husband.

Clarity. At last.

A Fitting Song du Jour

Sidenote: So the whole 420 thing has to do with 4:20 as in a time, not today's date, but somehow it has evolved into a day of cannabis celebrations.

Tonight, LMNOB was heard singing, "I feel so high. I feel so high, so very, very high...." and Charlie Brown and I both snickered, knowing that her words were so very apropos for potheads the world over.

The context, however, was merely that Daddy had raised her bike seat.




© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Another Week Down

Thursday last week I woke up at 4:00 a.m. with what I thought were Labor Pains. As in what was going to be the Start of Birth.

But alas, after a day of irregular contractions, this li'l one's birth was so not happening.

The weekend was uneventful and by then I was getting cynical. For the most part. I still envisioned hearing that I was progressing right along at my Dr.'s appointment on Monday morning.

Until I went, got examined, and heard the doctor say, "Unfortunately I don't think there's been any change over last week."

Damn my body and her false hopes!

So this week I've just been trying to keep busy and know that things will happen when they're meant to happen.

Easier said than done.




© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

The Suspense is Killing Me....

Preface this post with the fact that Pitocin played a huge role in both of my previous labors, i.e. my body has yet to really prepare for birth on its own. LMNOB's was a medically necessitated induction at 39 wks because I was going preeclamptic. Punkinhead's on the other hand, was a "failure to progress" type of induction as my water broke but then I didn't have any contractions/dilation following that.

So....this time around, I've had symptoms, as in What to Expect When You are Expecting (and other such books) milestones that they say to look for towards the end.

Like how two Fridays ago I had hardcore cramping - like, did I not have a giant belly with a baby squirming all to hell in it, I would have SWORN I was about to start a messy period type cramping. Later that night, I went to the bathroom and out came a big ole glop of mucous. Like seriously, huge.

Mucous Plug?!? As in Labor is coming soon???

I had to have validation and called out to Charlie Brown, "I think I just lost my mucous plug - come see!"

To which he responded, "Uhm, thanks, but I'll pass on dissecting the loogie your vagina just hocked."

Rather than being upset, I was in awe at his comeback.

The rest of that weekend - got us nothing. I was told the following Monday, however, that I was at 1 cm and about 50% effaced.

Last week I just had intermittent cramping - nothing to write home about. And at last Monday's appt, I was at maybe 1.5 cm and about the same thinness.

This past Monday, I was at 2 cm and 70% effaced, so I was pleased to hear that.

Then I had some bloody show that night - but I brushed it off and blamed it on the exam, as it had hurt a bit.

Then there was more yesterday around noonish. Along with the bad back cramps. So I started to think this is it, we're gonna go soon.

And last night, another ginormous glob of mucous, with blood this time, and more back cramps. I have been feeling a LOT of pressure yesterday and today, and this afternoon when I got with a friend, she was like, "That baby is WAY low today - I mean you look WAY different!"

So now I just want to meet this little guy - we're ready, Bud.




© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

See Honey, The Princess Dress-Up Never Confused His Gender Identity At All!

Chalk this up to another one of those times.

When Punkinhead was a wee lad, he loved to do all things LMNOB. As LMNOB was in the full-on-Disney-Princess-Barbie-PINK!-Glam-dress-up mode, this often meant that Punkinhead would traipse down the stairs clad in ensembles so effeminate even drag queens would find them distasteful. This was to the horror of one Charlie Brown. Oh, he'd laugh and say he was just teasing, but I knew it really bothered him when, on occasion, I would become an accomplice to this gender-bending play by including Punkinhead in the home-done mani-pedi days that LMNOB and I would have. Then Charlie Brown would scold me and say, "Why are you ADDING to this?"

And I would just raise my eyebrows and say, "1. Thought you didn't REALLY care, and 2. All little boys who happen to have a big sister imitate what they see, it doesn't last forever, you'll see."

Fast forward several years to yesterday.

A group from church has recently starting singing for the nursing home in our neighborhood on the first Sunday of the month. We decided to join them yesterday. The singing was wonderful, the kids were beautifully behaved, and the elderly attendants were greatly entertained. When we were done, folks from the group mingled with the residents of the home, saying hello and giving them a little TLC.

LMNOB and Punkinhead were like celebrities amongst these guys and one little old lady, bless her everlovin' heart, rolled over to Punkinhead in her wheelchair, clasped his face and proclaimed, "You are such a beautiful little GIRL."

Horrified and indignant, Punkinhead's eyes grew big and he loudly informed her, "I'm not a GIRL, SHE is," as he pointed to his sister emphatically. But it didn't stop there, no, he had to add on for clarification, "I'm a BOY!"

Charlie Brown stepped in and swooped him up apologetically, then had a discussion with Punkinhead about how sometimes when people get really old, their brains don't work as well as they used to and they confuse their words. This surely was the case with this sweet old lady and she didn't mean any harm by what she said, she got a little confused.

We and our friends, however, are not yet so addled in our minds and we laughed about this all night long.




© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Getting Into His Mind

Reading comprehension is an important skill in life, no?

I tend to think so, especially when one uses children's books to be an effective parent. One can choose great stories rich with application and relevance to things going on in his/her child's life, but if that child has no comprehension skills, said application and relevance are often missed.

A couple of weeks ago, I read a review of of Sourpuss and Sweetie Pie by Norman Juster that made me think, "Hmmmm.....sounds like a good one for the kids." So I reserved it from our library and when it came in, whilst we were off school for snow last week, I took it home and read it with both Punkinhead and LMNOB. As I was hoping to make an impression with this book (since both kiddos are prone to weird, 0-60 in no time flat, baby-anticipating mood swings right now), I did what any teacher worth their salt would do to boost comprehension: I asked a lot of questions and stimulated a lot of discussion with the kids about just what the meaning of the parts of the story entailed.

Later that night, when Daddy got home, we continued driving the lesson home at the dinner table. LMNOB gleefully gave Daddy the plot synopsis with an interjection here or there from Punkinhead with a missing detail.

Charlie Brown eventually asked, with the intent of some soulful introspection from the kids, "Well, who do you know that can be a real Sourpuss at times then?"

LMNOB began pointing to herself and Punkinhead with a sheepish frown on her face, while Punkinhead, disappointed, said, "Jay Cutler."

**ETA** Since writing this yesterday, the news broke a story about how the Bronco's QB was indeed a sourpuss and deals to trade him are now being officially negotiated. I thought it highly ironic that I posted this yesterday and later that night this was the top story.

Comprehension, check.

Self-awareness and/or personal responsibility? Still working on that.



© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Resistance is Futile

Husbands everywhere ought to heed the following rule of life:

Moms (yes, that means your wives also if you have children) really do know best.

Case in point:

Yesterday after church we went out to eat with some friends and then the group proceeded to visit a couple who'd just had their first baby that morning at the nearby hospital. Neither LMNOB nor Punkinhead had used the restroom since church.

Following the hospital visit, Charlie Brown drove us over to a nearby motocross track where there were races going on. Motocross is the current love language between Charlie Brown and the kids, so a good time was had by all. Still no restroom breaks as there weren't any where we were at.

Of course, both kids fell asleep in the truck. LMNOB, however, woke when I opened my door and proceeded up to her bathroom. Punkinhead on the other hand, NEEDED a nap something fierce, and has recently become such a light sleeper that if transported, he will inevitably wake and say, "I'm not tired anymore!" I weighed all of this in the back of my mind against the possibility of him wetting himself and/or getting disoriented if left in the truck and crying, before asking if Charlie Brown was going to take him in. Rather, I suggested that he take him in.

Charlie Brown brushed me off and said "He needs to sleep." Which was true.

Ooooooooooo-kay, I said, then took off for a nap.

Shortly after I wake, Charlie Brown tells me, "So, I felt so bad for Punkinhead when he woke up."

"He came in crying didn't he?" I accuse.

Sheepishly Charlie Brown replies, "Yeah, and soaking wet. He felt horrible and said, 'But Daddy, it had been so wong!' and I told him I wasn't mad, that it had been a long time, and it was ok. But man, poor guy - he really took it to heart."

I huff and say, "Didn't I tell you this could happen?"

Seriously, guys why do you not listen to us?






© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Testing the Facebook Connection

Just trying to see if my facebook profile will show my blogposts automatically now.



© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

5 More Weeks....

Or less.....

Squeeeeeee!!!!

I've had a sneaking feeling that Easter weekend is going to be his time, so we shall see. Trying not to get "married" to that idea, but it's just a gut feeling I've had for a bit.

Today I went for my 35 wk check up (last one was 2 weeks ago), and I only measured 32 cm in fundal height, which is where I was at at 33 wks. Because there was no change AND because I was 3 cm behind (normal is +/- 2 cm), the doc wanted to schedule a u/s for next week. She thinks that he likely just dropped, which can mess up the fundal height measurement, but wants to ensure that he's still growing and/or that my amniotic fluid level is where it ought to be. So I get to see my boy again next Monday. I am looking forward to it as I never had an u/s past 20 wks before and think it will be neat to see him with more definition.

Charlie Brown was more worried about today's wonderings than I was - but that's because I thought the baby had dropped overnight as the pressure was more intense this morning when I woke up. Charlie Brown made me worry, though, after our visit as he was like, "What if they say we have to deliver on Monday because he's not growing or because the fluid is low?" I hadn't even gone there, despite the doc saying that either could possibly be a factor. I'm still not terribly concerned, but now there is that nagging doubt. Nevertheless, if we deliver next week, it's only 1 wk preterm and Punkinhead was born at 36 weeks, we know that drill. Not too scary.

One thing that is nice is that we'll get a definitive answer as to his position, too. He's kind of head-down, we think, but still quite sideways, so it will help to know if he needs any maneuvering before the birth.

I've started having some irregular contractions, just B-H, for sure, but they are working. I was 1 cm dilated and 50% effaced today!



© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Hoping for a Better Day

It's the last day of Spring Break, ya'll.

And yesterday broke me.

LMNOB and Punkinhead do SO WELL when they are in school 8 hours a day and each doing their own thing. But when they are together 24/7, hoo boy, watch out.

I felt like all I did yesterday was yell, and put out fires, and yell, and send kids to time out, and, uh, yell. Oh wait, at one point I totally lost it and cried.

I do NOT like being the yelling mom. I do not like yelling in a car, I do not like yelling from afar. I dislike yelling about safety and I dislike yelling at kids because they are lazy. I especially most hate yelling as a follow-up to jillion reminders/warnings to do/not do something - like, seriously, have they not learned to obey me? Apparently not.

And then the stress of it all was pushed over the edge with this one little disparaging thought:

Wow, they are being really beastly - sure you can handle one more?

No, I wasn't sure I could handle one more. No, I all of a sudden was not looking forward to summer vacation, which I'd previously envisioned as an idyllic season of warmth, lounging in the backyard with the baby while LMNOB and Punkinhead rode bikes in the alley and played with the neighbor kids with not a care in the world. Now I saw power struggles and post-partum hormones peppering fights about how we would not be playing video games when it was so wonderfully nice outside. And I cringed inwardly.

What have I done? Who have I become?

I know that these thoughts, these anxieties are Satan trying to pull me from God and His purpose for me and my family. So I'm leaning on Jesus today and hoping that it makes all the parenting difference in the world.

Also? Calling on a few girlfriends for reinforcement.








© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Today I Discovered Dubya's Post-Presidential Vocation

At least, I thought so. Turns out the item on the label I was reading is a legitimate term, even if it sounded like a new Bush-inspired attempt at a neologism.

Sometime just before Her Bad Mother blogged about the latest and worst (sorry for the weird formatting, but the article is down a ways, scroll for the info) thing about HFCS (aside from all the previously bad correlations), I had decided to really start cutting it out of our diets as much as possible. When I heard mercury is also associated with HFCS, I began to even more seriously cut it out, given LMNOB's Sensory Integration Dysfunction and the tie between mercury and all things Autistic Spectrum Disorder.

It is hard to completely get HFCS out of your diet as basically all condiments have it, most store bought breads do (at the time I began scouring labels at the supermarket even the pricey Orowheat breads had it on their label; however, they have since eliminated it as an ingredient in the production of their bread. Also, I recommend Nature's Pride, it is HFCS free, cheaper than Orowheat on average and tastes much better than the Pepperidge Farms natural breads! No, not being paid by them to say so, just think that if people are serious it is helpful to know what's what out there.), etc., etc. So, I've honed in on the things we eat EVERY day, like breads and cereals, lunchbox items, "juices" and the main ingredients in my cooking staples. I have yet to buy organic ketchup for pure budgetary reasons, but in general we have really reduced this culinary evil's presence in our lives.

It takes time as one has to really read labels (and know HFCS's other names as some companies are pulling out the Canadian/European names for this bad boy) and it can cause a bit more strain on the pocket book, but not necessarily if you are a smart shopper (see that time thing above though).

Anyway, all of that to tell you that today while I was at the grocery store reading labels, I hit a new term....

Interesterified soy oil.

Firefox wants so badly for me to correct that sucker, because it doesn't recognize it as a word either.

My first thought was, "AHA! George W. has gotten himself a job as a food label writer." Then, "WTH does interesterified mean, anyway? That they've made boring oil more interesting? So ambiguous, these newfangled food terms."

We all know that trans-fats are bad because they are genetically modified fats that take an unsaturated fat (read: liquid) add hydrogen (hence hydrogenated and/or partially hydrogenated) and make it a saturated (read: crisco-like solid) fat that will clog your arteries much faster and more seriously than naturally saturated fats (i.e. butter and meat fats....mmmm...meat fat, lol. This prego is seriously craving one fine ribeye right now) will. Oh, wait, you didn't know that? Well now you know and "knowing is half the battle." (GI Joe! Sorry, it's that pop culture reference thing I do)

And since most of us know that trans-fats are bad and why, a lot of food companies have eliminated them....or just reduced them to 0.something grams in their serving sizes so that they can somewhat completely misleadingly boast "0g Trans-Fats in every serving!" Seriously, even with reading labels people miss this, because they read the "Nutrition Facts" rather than the ingredients. Be thorough, folks, be thorough, because somehow many of these food-producers are claiming no trans-fats in their products, yet "hydrogenated/partially hydrogenated" still shows on the ingredients. And they ain't natural.

So interesterified fats.... It's a whole new ball of wax. And also another seemingly unhealthy one. Makes me want to cook everything from scratch now. Which makes my head hurt. Can nothing be easy yet safe?


© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved