Thursday, December 30, 2010


I don't normally get the flu shot because I've only had the flu twice in my life. I figure that my odds are pretty good that I won't get it. I went to a different doctor and she just offered it and since I was getting the tetanus shot, I figured... why not?!

Linus had just started  preschool, so that was pretty much a dumb idea. I know that your immune system is a little compromised while it is building up the immunities from the vaccines and I immediately caught a cold. Not just a stuffy nose but a full on cold.

Normally, I'd just suck it up, but we were traveling through some mountainous areas and the pressure in my ears was so terrible I had to start taking some decongestants. That stuff dries you out.

Then, it was, well, you know... that time of the month. And all I could do was eat salty stuff. And that dries you out.

I started to not feel very well and every time I even thought of water I wanted to throw up. I started to feel like I was pregnant: exhausted, nauseous, a little out of it in the head (more than normal I guess. haha) and when I started to get muscle cramps and stomach cramps, I figured it was time to see the doctor.

I guess with all of this stuff going on, I wasn't getting enough to drink, I was drinking more coffee just to stay awake and further dehydrating myself. On top of that, I had a kidney infection. So, I got to sit, all by myself, in the quiet of the hospital, reading my book I had downloaded on my ipad, getting stuck with an IV by a great woman who does that sort of thing regularly in the infusion room at the hospital. I got two bags of saline, froze my bum off not realizing that was how I was going to spend my afternoon, and still felt awful.

I peed that morning and didn't pee again until 7pm. Bad sign I guess. I didn't feel better until the next day or so. Even then, I was still tired but the mental confusion had really been eliminated. That was the scary part. I knew I was supposed to know the questions being asked of me, but I couldn't get the info to come up. To just sit staring into space trying to figure out what I wanted to say, or figure out what day of the week it was... it kind of makes me wonder if that's how Alzheimer's patients feel.

Further proof that I am not doing a good job of taking care of myself. I am having a hard time taking some time out for myself. Having two kids doubles the demands and sometimes it is hard to ignore their needs for just a minute to meet my own.

Lesson learned. Babies, you can cry it out for just a bit sometimes. :)

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Spirit of Christmas Past afterthought...

So, I totally forgot to put my favorite FAVORITE memory of Christmas this year and the whole reason I wrote the last post. :D

My Mr. and I went to a Christmas party at a friend couple's house. There weren't very many people that showed and after eating the delicious food, we decided to do the white elephant gifts.

I was lucky enough to receive an actual elephant gift. It was men's underwear as an elephant AND there was a button to push and it made the elephant trumpet. I was unfortunate to lose this awesome gift. hahaha.

Mr. brought tiki torches and one of our friend's guests was a pacific islander. She picked the tiki torches and I know it's one of those "had to be there" moments, but I'm pretty sure another friend almost peed his pants laughing at the tiki torches and the fact that she called Mr. a racist for bringing them as she hugged them like they were her new children.

No one had the heart to take them from her and that is my favorite Christmas memory of this year. A great Christmas party. :D

Spirit of Christmas Past

I have quite a few great Christmas memories and I just thought I'd share a few in hopes that someone will respond with some good memories of their own.

I can't for the life of me remember how old I was, but I got stupid red bike. I hated red and it had TRAINING WHEELS ON THEM! And it wasn't wrapped. Ignore the fact that I had no idea how to ride a bike and had no idea how you'd actually wrap a present like that, but I was bugged. Until, that is, my little sister started to unwrap her huge, giant monstrous box. Inside of that was a smaller box and a smaller box and a smaller box until she got to one of those plastic boxes that used to hold crayons that weren't Crayolas. Inside of that was a coupon for a bike. At that point, I don't think I cared quite as much about my bike, because that was just fun.  Let's do that again, Mom!

I remember the year we got our first microwave. Not just any microwave either... this was the '56 Buick of microwaves. I am pretty sure it was a big as my dishwasher. It was huge. I think we were one of the first ones to get one. It was pretty awesome. Especially when we found out that metal wasn't supposed to go in them.

I remember the year that the Nintendo came out. It was the toy of the year and completely on back order. All of us kids were completely crushed when we were done opening presents and there was no Nintendo. My mom whipped out a present and inside was a bandaid box. ??? Inside was a puzzle. We set to put it together and what she had done was cut out the word Nintendo and cut it up so that was the puzzle. When we put it together, she explained that as soon as it came in to Sears, we could go pick it up. WE WERE GETTING A NINTENDO!!

There was one year that my dad bought the Salvation Army's whole selection of ugly sweaters and that was our Christmas presents that year. 100 ugly sweaters.

This was the first year that Matt and I had a tree, so this will be a Christmas to remember. Especially with Linus getting old enough to really enjoy it more.

I will also remember this Christmas as being one that I completely managed to help a friend out and make sure her family had Christmas. I am pretty sure there were others that helped them out and I am not some sort of "hero" or whatever. It's just that this is not something I do. I don't plan, organize, and follow through with stuff like this. I would like to think that there was some divine intervention there. Or a lot of love. So, Friend, know that no matter what, I love you and your family. And I can not thank those who offered to help out enough. I will be sending personal thank you cards in the mail soon just to show you how much it meant to me. Just waiting for the buzz of the holidays to settle down a little.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

The Spirit of Christmas

What is the spirit of Christmas to you?

I know that everyone wants to say that Christmas to them is celebrating the birth of Christ.

To me, I'd like to think that it is a bit more than just that.

I kind of think it is a celebration of our friends and family.

So, in lieu of the Spirit of Christmas... I'm enlisting all of my friends and family to help a dear friend of mine who is struggling this year. I am creating my own private angel tree to help my friend have a Christmas for her kids. Kids know gifts and kids are kids. They don't understand financial issues, especially if they are new to the family. I am pretty sure that my friend, her husband, and kids also NEED things that aren't just about toys and fun. And I don't think there are many of you out there who would, in a state of need, just dump on your children that there is no Santa.

I don't have the funds to create a Christmas for her, so I am asking...

Please, I need gifts for an 8 year old boy, a 6 year old girl, and a 3 year old boy.

The children particularly want:
8 year old - a remote control car or motorcycle, a monkey pillow pet, and is in need of shoes 1 1/2.
6 year old - a Brat or Barbie doll that comes with something you do your own hair with (she's confused as to what this is... kids... you know. LOL), a unicorn pillow pet, and shoes 11 1/2
3 year old - star wars legos, puppy pillow pet, and shoes size 8.

Or if there is something else you get the intuition that a child of this age might like... well, all gifts would be greatly appreciated.

Please, friends, will you help me help this family whom I've known for a long time? Don't sit back and think that someone else will do it. Just 9 people really. That's all I need. More would probably just be an amazing Christmas for the kids. Be the one to step up and just buy ONE thing. $15-$20 isn't too much to make a child's day.

If you are willing and able and are in the state, I'll come pick them up. Email me if you have an interest so I don't end up with 15 puppy pillows. :D And I can organize a pick up.

Please, help make a Christmas miracle come true for a family.

Thank you. email:

Oh, and an after thought, I am sure that mom and dad might need or want something. Inspiring gifting happens all the time... if it seems right, do it. This mom friend of mine is working very long and hard hours so she wasn't able to sit down to let me know if she or her husband need anything. Let the Spirit talk to you.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

In memorial

This is the last time we saw Gpa Bailey alive and this is his sweetheart of many years, Gma Bailey holding his hand.

They spend many years in Monticello and that is where their oldest son is buried and that is where Gpa Bailey's final resting place is. Monticello Utah.

I know that some people may find this picture weird, morbid, whatever, but I needed this one for me. I saw him sick and I needed to have this picture of him at peace.

This man was obviously very loved and respected. This is mostly just his family but not even all of them, but most of them.
Final Goodbyes.

Pallbearers. Gpa Bailey's Grandsons.

I wanted to put this picture of Nathaniel in here. That's the little boy pictured. He made my whole entire week. During a song that 4 of Ken's friends were singing, I was thinking that I should be recording it because it was beautiful, Nathaniel looked up at his mom and said, "I love you." It just made me so happy to hear that. I hear he's one of those kids that just knows when someone needs to hear things like that. Very intuitive.

It was cold. Matt looks nice in my scarf, no? Emily is just as cute as usual.

Gma Bailey

I am so very grateful that we were able to get this 4 generation picture. Even though Linus is just a baby, it's still pretty cool to have.

The Bailey's have lost the Chuck Norris of the family. I am very excited to have gotten a hold of a manuscript of an interview he did. He tells stories like no one else.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

The Great Pumpkin

Ok, ok, yeah that's a Peanut's reference which I hate doing because of Linus's name. He's not named after THE Linus Van Pelt with the Blue Blanket.

But, I thought that I should mention that this was the best Thanksgiving.

So far.

I think as I grow older and realize what I have, where I am, where I could be, and the many blessings that really are in my life, every Thanksgiving is better than the last.

I can't say that I enjoy the chaos of the HUGE family events because both my husband and I have this social anxiety that kind of renders us full of nerves. My son has a hard time with the crowd at first and my daughter is scared to death of my dad. *shrug*

I do, however, enjoy seeing my siblings, parents, and when we get to go to Matt's, his family. I love to just sit back and soak in the family-ness.

And then.... the food.

That is my favorite part and I would actually rather just have Thanksgiving dinner at my house, with my husband and kids, so that I can have ALL of the leftovers!! I love it love it love it.

This year I made the sweet potatoes and used this recipe. Delicous. Although I did use almonds instead, it turned out very good. (Even after I dropped it and it slid down the stairs and all of the marshmallows ended up on one end of the pan. I am thankful for locking pan lids.)

I also made the pumpkin pie. I use the pumpkin in a can and the recipe on the label. This year though, I added a capful of vanilla to the recipe.

Every thing is better with vanilla.

I always have some filling left over, so I used a bread bowl my brother made me and put the rest of the filling in it and then put the cooked filler into pre-made frozen filo dough shells. They are crispy, bite sized pieces of heaven.

I am thankful for Stovetop Stuffing because it's hard to find someone who can make good stuffing. There is usually an overload of sage. Or Sausage. Or too dry. Matt's Grandma has a great recipe, we did not get to eat it this year.

Anyway, so, yeah, I am thankful for getting older, for making mistakes so I am able to appreciate the blessings I do have and I'm able to acknowledge things that I can be and should be thankful for.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

End of an Era.

On occasion, some of us are lucky enough to meet people who really are legends in their own time. Personally.

My Granny was one such person although she like to keep a low profile and not really talk about her accomplishments. She was a doctor and when she was in the hospital didn't like it when the staff called her Dr. Edwards. I don't think she like the embarrassment that ensued when a member of the medical staff treated her like an old lady and someone came in and asked, "How are you doing Dr. Edwards?" She was just lowkey like that.

So, on that note.... have you ever seen Big Fish?

If you haven't, go watch it really quick, and then come back.

I had the pleasure of meeting my husband's dad's father in 2007. And upon first meeting all I could think was that someone met Ken Bailey and made the movie Big Fish based on Ken. Kind of like how the movie Rainman was based off of the real life human being Kim Peek, who lived in Murray with his father until his death and I also had the pleasure of meeting.

Oh!! The stories that man would tell. He told stories exactly the way Albert Finney does in this movie.

And they were almost as unbelievable.

He lived a very amazing, adventure filled, no holds barred kind of life. I hope to recount more of his stories in later posts, I don't remember very many of them as I hadn't had a chance to listen to them for many years. But I will say, he bought his first car when he was 13 and used to break horses for $25 a piece as a young teenager.

Did I mention that he was always thirsty? Seriously. Right out of the movie. And he and his wife Jolene...well, as far as I can tell, it's still right out of the movie. I don't know the circumstances of their courtship, but I bet it's a great story.

In the week of November 7-13th, he was at an elderly care facility and was told that he had pneumonia and that they'd like to start antibiotics. He specifically expressed his desire that they NOT put him on medications. I can imagine that at a certain point in your life, you are pretty done and that further efforts to prolong your life is kind of pointless. He said once that if he'd known how painful it was to be old, he'd have passed long before now.

Sunday the 14th, we all went to be with Grandpa Bailey. His room was filled with family and he was definitely having a hard time. He couldn't speak and his breathing was "labored". The nurses told the family that his vitals were fine, but I've seen people who are at the end and he was there.

He is a devout LDS and there was a search of oil to give him a blessing. His grandson, Jordan I believe, delivered the blessing and Kirk did as well. It was very eloquent and had everyone in tears (yeah, Kirk manages to get everyone in tears a lot, it's a talent I think). I don't really know the ins and outs of it, but that's what I think transpired at this point.

And it was a very calming thing for Ken. You could tell that it relaxed him greatly.

There are many other things I could tell of this evening, but I won't. It is a little personal. It was very beautiful. And he transitioned from this mortal world into the spiritual world the 15th.

I am very excited to get to record more of his stories so that not only my children can get a glimpse of their Great-Grandpa Bailey, but so that others know what a great and sometimes terrible man he was. To get a chance to see the stock that my husband is from and to know that my kids and their dad come by their silly, crazy, adventurous, curious nature very honestly.

I would like to add my disclaimer that when I say terrible... I really mean it. From what I understand, his dad was a very mean man and while Ken managed to better himself and his life, there will always be that little bit of terrible that sneaks in and, quite frankly, in some cases, it isn't too bad a thing. I want my children to know that even though he was a VERY great man, he was just a man. So, so  good to his friends and family, but I think people learned not to cross him. And he had his curmudgeon moments with his loved ones as well. It gave him color and depth. He was a legend in his own time to his friends and family and as a good friend put it "It's probably tough being a legend." So, please don't think I'm disrespecting him in any way by saying the above.

We love you Grandpa Bailey, you will be sorely missed, and don't raise too much trouble where you are. ;)

Saturday, November 20, 2010


I have a horrible, terrible, awful, no good, very bad cold. It makes me not think clearly and I have a couple of things I would like to write about concerning this past week and don't want to make a horrible mess of it. Then I add cold medicine in and my head goes from not clear to complete fog. *insert foghorn here* So, I really would like to inform you all of a couple of very important posts coming up regarding this week. About a legend and the loss of a legend. Mostly I want to share these events because his story intrigues even me which is pretty hard to do considering the Granny I had. Her life was amazing, she was a legend, and she's pretty hard to beat in my mind. So, while I try to gather my thoughts through this fog, here's a couple cute pictures... cause everyone loves pictures of cute kids.

Add caption

Mikayla and Bea... poor things are the only girl cousins on my side of the family

Linus rockin' his mohawk and playing with William.

I just think Super Linus is beautiful.

Amazing Grace. Eating. Still. But at least I finally caught a smile.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Don't let my brilliance blind you.

I once upon a time started a blog. I love to journal and I love to write things down and what better way to do so than on a computer that I have and I don't have to worry about my handwriting and I can eventually turn this into a book for my kids. I figured I'd eventually run out of things to write about. 

I guess I totally forgot what my life is like and who I am. 

My sister has been going out of town a lot lately so my sister, my mom, her friend, and I have been doing what we can to split up the time and watch the kids. 

The two older boys go with their dad, which is nice, and the younger two need to be watched. She is also watching a little boy who is 5. I don't know the details regarding him watching this little boy, other than, his mom is out of the picture, his dad is going to school out of state and will be back, but it's too difficult to take B with him. 

And before I get too far into the story, keep in mind that B is 5, he lives with his dad, and his dad has NO rules and lets B run the house. 

He's manipulative and tough. 

Friday night I went to watch the 3 boys and had my two with me. Hammy doesn't sleep well, so he was up frequently and in turn woke up Bea. It was a long night. 

Hammy and Chasey woke up early early early and decided to yell at each other from across the room like they were in an auditorium instead of a small bedroom. So, we all got up at 7am. 

And I needed a soda. 

I got us all as ready as I needed to run down the street to the gas station that has good ice and I just want to say car seats are a pain. B had one meltdown and I needed to get my intolerance of that out of the way quickly. He's 5. He doesn't need to act like that and he knows better, but he pushes his limits because he can get away with it with his dad. 

After we got back to the house from my soda run, the kids got to playing and I got to cleaning. It is always easier to clean someone else's house and I know my sister doesn't have a whole lot of time or energy to clean. I don't have the energy to clean my own house and I'm not a single mom that works full time and takes care of 4-5 kids. No thank you. I figured it was the least I could do to help her out a little bit. 

So, B is tough, I've mentioned that. His thing right now is to request food and then not eat it and just throw it away. So we started the morning with him making a sandwich. He wanted a breakfast bar after seeing the other kids eating theirs and I made him eat his sandwich first. He did. He then went and got his own breakfast bar and squished it trying to open it. He wouldn't eat it because he'd squished it. He then wanted cheetos from the gas station. We got home and he wanted a sandwich, a breakfast bar, string cheese, popcorn, etc. I hate feeling like such a jerk to a kid, but I had to be tough and explain he needed to finish his food first before he can start something else. That it is wasteful and that we don't have enough money to just throw stuff away. 

And he's a tattletale to the extreme. 

But then, so is Chasey. I'm not anti-other kids. My other sister has a little girl who is manipulative and is tough. That doesn't mean I don't love her or even like her. It just is how she is. Doesn't mean I don't like B. Just trying to explain that he's tough. 

Plus he repeats himself. Nonstop. 

So, I managed to get myself ready for the day mostly, get the kids ready for the day, get cleaning, and Grandma and Grandpa came to get Linus and Bea. Which was very awesome so I didn't have to drive to 

Brigham and then back to Salt Lake. 

So, once my two were gone, I just needed to finish up and get us all loaded into the car to head to Salt Lake to drop the boys off at my other sister's house.  And I needed to get home as soon as possible since we were having people over than evening and I wanted to clean my house. 

I sometimes get anxiety over the dumbest things. 

I was getting the kids all packed up and it's the final details that always get me. I should probably make a list and that would help, but I never do.

I got all of the bags into the trunk, I got all of my stuff into the car, I was getting ready to put the car seats in and the back door was locked. Linus's side always locks. So I opened the front door, unlocked the doors, shut the door, and as the door was shutting realized I'd locked it. I'd just locked the doors to the car.

With my keys inside. With my phone inside. With the house locked.

And no coat on.


As much as I hate doing it, I ran next door to see if I could borrow their phone to call Matt to see if he could bring the key to the Camry. Ugh!!

Called Matt, turns out the police car out front was not just a prop and the police officer was home, and offered to open the door for me. And I'd just caught him before he left. 

He came over, wedged it open, popped the lock, and took off. I was so thankful!! Starting digging for my keys in my purse that were in the front seat... 

They weren't there.

Oh Geez, were they in my pockets this whole time??


I realized that I had left them in the key hole in the trunk. My keys were out, easily available, and I forgot.

I'm so glad the neighbor didn't see them.

Please, don't let my brilliance blind you because it blinds my husband as he's laughing.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Totally and completely out of my element... and then there was volunteer info.

So, I stay at home. And I use the internet to keep my company most days. There is a woman whom I've been following her blog for a while now and because I'm a stalker, totally facebook friended her. She posted something about coming out the the Ronald McDonald House for the Give a Hand fundraiser. I thought... cool, I need to get out, I know the house has really helped a lot of people out, sooooo.... let's go!

We got there an hour late, I walked in, and realized that I had absolutely no idea, whatsoever, what I had decided to be a part of.

I attended my first mommy blogger meeting... o.O

Um.... Yeah.

I love writing on my blog, I love sharing my life, I love reading blogs, but I don't have a blog like these ladies.

I don't have the GINORMOUS... and I mean GINORMOUS audience... and those who read and enjoy, thank you. I don't have what seems to be the uniform ie: the super cute giant huge purse, the really cute clothes, the all put together look (I have no idea how to accessorize. In fact you could give me all of the accessories and I'd put them on and feel like a complete idiot.), and camera.

I kind of felt like I was accidentally invited to the party with the cool kids. These ladies were very professional, very obviously have done this type of thing before, and totally made me feel very welcome. All the while I had a deer in the headlights look on my face, I'm sure.

By the way, can I just interject here that Linus totally flirted with Loralee and it was the cutest thing ever. He gave her this smile and batted his eyelashes at her. She really is that cute. He doesn't do that for anyone.
Anyway, the blogging ladies I met there, were Elisa from mormonmommyblogs, Veronica from welcometomychaos, and Loralee from loraleeslooneytunes. There was another woman there, but she left before I could meet her.  There were two other ladies there who work for different companies, and I'm not very clear on exactly what they do there, but Barbara Schmiett works at BRS Marketing Communications and Heather Johnson who works at GolinHarris.

Can I just say, thank you ladies for giving me some great adult time and even greater lady time?!

Ok, onto the volunteer info... All of you know about the Ronald McDonald House. It is a place for families to stay while their kids are in the hospital. Without going back and reading their whole story, I do believe a couple I have known forever stayed there a night or two while their daughter was at Primary's.

They've kicked off McHappy Day and are offering an invitation for customers to purchase a "Give A Hand" for $1 and the proceeds will go the local Ronald McDonald House Charities. It is going from November 10-20. They are also doing a contest. You can win $500 for you and $5000 for your local RMHC. 

Along with that, we were given a list of volunteer project ideas and needs that the house has. A few of these include: Sack Lunch Kits, Hand-tie Quilts, Pop Tabs, Housekeeping/Yard Work, and the Wish List of needs the RMCH of the Intermountain Area is large. Check out for a list of things that are needed.

And now... a few pictures to delight the audience... keep in  mind they are either my crappy phone camera or pictures that were so kindly emailed to me. :D

These are the two I got on my phone... does it look like Linus and Ronald are like the repelling ends of magnets because that's what it felt like holding him. But he did smile for the camera. He's getting that cheesy grin down good.

The ladies did fun pictures with Ronald behind the glass... this is Elisa the only one I could get ... It takes 5 minutes just to get the camera going on the good old telly of mine. LOL
Keep in mind these photos are all 's (As she so smartly puts on her photos.) She's the beauty in the red.

P.S. This Ronald just happens to be fluent in Spanish which is very nice considering the large Spanish speaking population we have. Awesome!

Yup, he can walk in those suckers.

RMHC Kitchen

RMHC Gameroom

and more Gameroom.

So, I completely got to the RMHC and almost didn't go in. I had a small anxiety attack. I had no idea what was going on, what I should expect, I had no clue. Period. I am a social butterfly who gets a little social anxiety and has not had a chance to groom my skills in a while. I completely went out of my comfort zone and I am so glad I did. Thanks ladies! I am really looking forward to actually helping out a little and maybe this will give me and the very nice and not at all crazy lady next door something to "bond" over. I just found out via the Mr. that she volunteers every Saturday there.

Thursday, November 11, 2010


This is one of my favorites so... introducing two of my favorite people.
One of my favorite people has finally found his very favorite person. Finally. And I couldn't be happier. So, I asked his VERY favorite person if I could write a little bit about them and she said yes. Thanks Miss T! (Although I didn't ask if I could use the photos or write a little TO you two, I am going to take the liberties.)

Once upon a time I met a gentleman who was very nice and kind to me. I met his family and for the most part, they took me under their wing and let me be part of their family for a while. It was great. We became great friends and although there is the awful label he and I share, the dreaded ex's-, things are sometimes weird for others regarding our friendship. He isn't the weird ex-boyfriend who hangs around hoping and pining for times past. I'm not the weird ex-girlfriend who still hopes to manage a small flame for the "in case". Or whatever it is that makes our friendship so weird to others.

I moved on one day and met my Bliss. His name is Matthew and we have been lawfully together 3 years this October.

My gentleman friend has been biding his time, finally found a very beautiful young lady, and is ready to name her his Bliss. They are soon to be lawfully together at the beginning of December of this year.

I have never seen him so happy and healthy.

I don't know her from previously, but she seem equally happy.

They make me smile.

So, in light of what many consider to be a miracle in the making... Congratulations!

Engagement party

A toast to the happy couple

Her ring. Beautiful opal, good choice Mr. H
I know that advice is given way too much and usually it's just bad, but I kind of wanted to throw out what I know to be good stuff for me.

There will come a time when the honeymoon phase is over... and it sucks. Cause you can easily get caught up in a rut. I didn't really get a chance for that to happen so much with my marriage cause we had kids immediately and that in itself puts you in a rut. Take time for yourselves. Not as in you two together, but as individuals. You both already seem really pretty good at that. Miss T has her friends, Mr. H has his friends, and then you all hang out together.

Talk to each other as much as you can. Mr. H, I know you are laughing a little about that statement as we both know I am not much of a talker when it comes to my feelings or things that are going on. My Bliss makes me talk to him. Especially when I don't want to. That's when I need to the most. So talk to each other.

Therapy isn't shameful. I think every couple should go to therapy. There isn't such a thing as a kid's handbook and there isn't such a thing as a marriage handbook. No one really knows what they are getting themselves into. No one realized the work that goes into it... mostly the learning how to give and take and compromise. Who does what chore when and the divvying of duties. Making a family with someone who previously wasn't is hard. Their ideas and values are different and learning to mesh them together is a challenge. I didn't go to couple therapy, but therapy on my own at the beginning really helped keep me level headed.

When you feel angry, bored, or any other negative emotion toward your partner, sit down and really, truly think about the beginning. How you felt at the beginning. Why you felt that way. Dress up. Pretend it's the beginning again. It really helps remind me of the spark.

And always remember, there is an ebb and flow of EVERYTHING!!! There are good times, there are bad times, there are easy times, there are hard times. Hold on, keep your arms and legs in the car, and enjoy the ride. And now, this story, above all stories I have read... and I read A LOT... touched me to the core and really let something sink in. Please read it, read the moral, and keep this story at the forefront through your lives.

A Story from a man

Sunday, July 25, 2010 at 9:04pm

When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and said, I've got something to tell you. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes. Suddenly I didn't know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the topic calmly. She didn't seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why? I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man! That night, we didn't talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to Jane. I didn't love her anymore. I just pitied her!

With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take back what I had said for I loved Jane so dearly. Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now.

The next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something at the table. I didn't have supper but went straight to sleep and fell asleep very fast because I was tired after an eventful day with Jane. When I woke up, she was still there at the table writing. I just did not care so I turned over and was asleep again.

In the morning she presented her divorce conditions: she didn't want anything from me, but needed a month's notice before the divorce. She requested that in that one month we both struggle to live as normal a life as possible. Her reasons were simple: our son had his exams in a month's time and she didn't want to disrupt him with our broken marriage.

This was agreeable to me. But she had something more, she asked me to recall how I had carried her into out bridal room on our wedding day.

She requested that every day for the month's duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door ever morning. I thought she was going crazy. Just to make our last days together bearable I accepted her odd request. I told Jane about my wife's divorce conditions. . She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she applies, she has to face the divorce, she said scornfully.

My wife and I hadn't had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mommy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly; don't tell our son about the divorce. I nodded, feeling
somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for the bus to work. I drove alone to the office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn't looked at this woman carefully for a long time. I realized she was not young any more. There were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair was graying! Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I wondered what I had done to her.

On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me. On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing again. I didn't tell Jane about this. It became easier to carry her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger.

She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I suddenly realized that she had grown so thin, that was the reason why I could carry her more easily. Suddenly it hit me... she had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart. Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head. Our son came in at the moment and said, Dad, it's time to carry mom out. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change my mind at this last minute. I then held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly; it was just like our wedding day.

But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. I held her tightly and said, I hadn't noticed that our life lacked intimacy. I drove to office.... jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my mind...I walked upstairs. Jane opened the door and I said to her, Sorry, Jane, I do not want the divorce anymore.

She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead. Do you have a fever? She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Jane, I said, I won't divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn't value the details of our lives, not because we didn't love each other anymore. Now I realize that since I carried her into my home on our wedding day I am supposed to hold her until death do us apart.

Jane seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away. At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, I'll carry you out every morning until death do us apart.

That evening I arrived home, flowers in my hands, a smile on my face, I run up stairs, only to find my wife in the bed - dead.

My wife had been fighting CANCER for months and I was so busy with Jane to even notice. She knew that she would die soon and she wanted to save me from the whatever negative reaction from our son, in case we push thru with the divorce.-- At least, in the eyes of our son--- I'm a loving husband....

Moral: The small details of your lives are what really matter in a relationship. It is not the mansion, the car, property, the money in the bank. These create an environment conducive for happiness but cannot give happiness in themselves. So find time to be your spouse's friend and do those little things for each other that build intimacy. Do have a real happy marriage! 

So, Miss T, I'm glad you are going to be George's dog mom. I am so glad that you gave the wiener another chance... yeah, I called you a wiener Harold and there isn't much you can do about it cause you really can be. :) Tristian, you seem to be a strong woman who won't put up with his shenanigans. Harold, you are such a sweet heart. Don't ever stop sending her flowers and being so cute to her. 

I love you both and hope you have as good a time on this ride as I've been having!

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Pardon the dust

I feel as though I have forgotten to write so much of what has happened over the last couple of months.

I almost feel as though my head has had a major upheaval and that there is some rebuilding. So... pardon the dust, let me shake off the cobwebs, and reblog.

You can tell I've had the blues. I haven't even enjoyed reading blogs let alone writing in my own which I so love to do.

As a parting gift for this particular no point post... here is my favorite pic of Linus this month.

He loved,loved,loved this little camping chair just his size.  Thanks Moose!

Monday, November 1, 2010

Rock out with your...oh...never mind.

I am 30. Wait, I take that back, I am not 30, I am 32. When my mom was that age I thought she was OLD!

I don't feel old. I don't really feel any different other than I feel a little more wise, I listen to my mom more, and my body hurts more and it takes more stretching to keep the stiffness away. Otherwise, I can't tell myself that I am 30. I can't tell myself that I am a mom. It kills me when I have to tell myself to be the adult.

I look at my siblings and they just don't seem like adults. Not that they aren't responsible or successful or whatever, it's just that my brother is a bearded, curly mustachioed, fixie riding, artist. My sisters are both makeup wearing, long haired or done haired, cute/in style clothes wearing ladies. They still have friends they get together with. They still go out and have a good time like motherhood hasn't grabbed them by the uterus and yanked them homebound never to leave again. And maybe that isn't really what seems to turn some women into something that when I see them, I are a mom.

So, when I get a chance to go to a concert, I'll take it. Concerts are one of my favorite things and because it costs money, they get put on the back burner.  Sometimes it doesn't go so well... and sometimes it's the greatest day ever!

I was asked by a dear friend of mine to take his daughter. He was supposed to go and was asked to perform a wedding ceremony and so he figured that since Jared Leto is my #1 on my celebrity list, I'd like to go to Provo to the 30 Seconds to Mars, Neon Trees, and some Dutch band (I forgot their name).

Hanging out with R and her bf C was pretty dang fun. I did get hit on by one 18 year old (hardee har har). Funnier when he told C that I was "hot for a 30 year old". That just made me thing... at what point is something not "hot"? Mr. Leto is nearing up on 40. Seriously. The big 4-0. And he is HOT. I don't say, "Man, he's hot for a 40 year old." I did get asked about the tattoo on my shoulder and was later told that was me getting hit on. That would also be me being oblivious cause I always have been. *disclaimer- not that it matters cause I AM married, but it is nice for the girl ego of mine.*

It was a lot of fun to go kind of crazy with kids 10 or more my junior and enjoy their company so much. I hope they enjoyed mine as well, I think I did overhear that they did, indeed, enjoy my company.

So, my favorite part of the show... Mr. Leto can walk on the crowd and sing at the same time. It's amazing. A.M.A.Z.I.N.G. And he talks to the crowd and really plays to the crowd very well. He's very charismatic to a large crowd.

I have been to quite a  few concerts and there are a few performers that are great to large crowds and there are a few that are great to a small crowd. Prince- Great Great Great to a large crowd. Norah Jones- not so much. It was bad enough that I had to leave, but I can imagine she'd be amazing at a small venue. Nickle Creek- Amazing at a small venue. Lyle Lovett- I think he'd be pretty great at both venues. Metallica- Ridiculous at a small venue.

So, here are a few pics from our evening of beauty.

Casey Sandwich. With Rowan and Amanda bread.

DUDE!! He's walking on the crowd and singing! (I know, I know not the best picture)

Before the show, a little Jared bum while he was pumping up the tire to his bike. 

my eyes

I changed up my blog everyone. My eyes needed a rest from the beautifully colored owls and flowers. I found it horribly inconsistent with the colors of autumn and soon to come white of winter.

And fake mustaches are funny.

Sunday, October 31, 2010


Ok, so for those of you who have no idea what FHE stands for it's "Family Home Evening".

Growing up in Utah, I got used to not being able to play with a lot of friends on Monday nights due to FHE. It's the night that families put aside to spend with the family, doing an activity, and exploring a lesson together. It is a really great idea. While our family didn't have a specific day picked out, we did our fair share of spending quality time together. Much to the chagrin of my anti-social, I hate my family, child and teenager-ness.

My DFIL grew up doing a special family home evening the first Sunday of every month and he really wanted to pass this tradition on to his kids and grandkids, so we've implemented it. The first Sunday of every month, we are given an item to prepare. It could be potatoes, dessert, veggies, or the lesson.

It really is my favorite Sunday of the month and I always look forward to it. I can almost always count on Grandma Hadfield to bring the delicious Rhode's rolls that I am too impatient to make myself or her amazing chocolate cake. Even the rare Sunday's she doesn't, it doesn't even matter. The food is always excellent as well as the company. It's nice to see the Great Grands and to on occasion see Michael and Emily when their busy selves grace us with their presence. :)

We start off with every family sharing news of what happened the previous month, any news, etc. that Jeri puts in a binder that she keeps. It will be very fun to re-read this after years have passed. I always enjoy the lessons we learn every month and I especially love the ones from the Grands. It is usually stories and lessons from when they were kids and that's always so interesting to me. I love hearing stories about the childhood of others older than me. So, this prompted me to write about the lessons and what I got out of them for my kids to read later on.

This is the lesson that the Grands gave last FHE. It is a story and how stories are used to teach lessons.

When Hannah Var Eight Yar Old by Katherine Peabody Girling (June 1913)

Click on the link above. It is in book form, with pictures, and you can turn the page like it is a book. It is very cool. It's a great story.

It is a great lesson and Grandma Darlene told us how after teaching the kids this lesson, all they had to do if the kids didn't want to do something, saying it was too hard, was to say the title of the story. A good reminder that others have had it worse and have come through just ok.

Monday, October 11, 2010


I am having a hard time writing this post.

I am not really sure where to start...

Do I start with how I can't stop crying? Or what is making me cry? Or why I feel so emotional in the first place?

I don't really know where to begin any of this. I just have a jumbled bunch of thoughts that I really need to get out before I explode into a big pile of tears and snot with the occasional booger bubble as I try to breathe.

Do I take my time and stop as I start to cry? Or should I make a mess of this so that I can't even go back later and make sense of this? 

Should I be brutally honest with myself so that later on I can show my kids that this is how I felt even though it might hurt feelings? Then, knowing I've hurt feelings, do I dare do this knowing I'll cry some more? 

I'm so sick of crying. Let's just start there.

The why's of my emotional chaotic mess will come later at a different post I guess, but just know these things- Right now I am at such a heightened state emotionally that when I find something funny, I laugh out loud. When I hear something that angers me, I am seeing red and feeling the steam come out of my ears. When I find something sad, I start to sob. I wish that these were just random things doing this to me, but I am almost in a place where I am picking up on the vibes of others and amplifying what they are feeling. 

I am to the point the when I do finally have the big break down, sobbing, blubbering mess I hope that I am alone and by myself. I really don't like my kids to see this and I don't want to scare my husband to death. 

Now, on to my ranting and raving and soul dumping. 

Because of aforementioned sadness I haven't been going out a whole lot, as my friends can attest. I haven't been very motivated to do much around the house. And when I try to, it doesn't really matter because I end up having to stay in the same room as the kids and play referee and make sure Linus doesn't kill Bea by sitting on her or smothering her with a pillow or blanket. So, I sit and play online so I don't go out of my head watching The Dark Crystal again for the 500,000 time this month. 

I have been seeing a lot of bloggers and facebookers posting things that are hitting a little too close to my heart and I feel the need to spew my own feelings about this.

(btw, this is day 2 so I am feeling a little bit better this a.m.)

So, there has been a lot of news about teenagers killing themselves over bullying and more specifically being bullied over their sexual orientation. There has been a huge flux of reports of this specific type of bullying leading to suicide in the last month or so.

I wonder what these young people would be thinking if they knew their deaths would cause such a stir? They have inspired people to renew their vocal and passionate fight for gay rights, to stop bullying, and have rendered memories to be brought to the surface of our childhoods and the bullying that some of us have received.

I have had the privilege of reading this blog post about bullying. That was probably my brother.  How stupid that I, having been bullied quite a bit, didn't even think that my brother who wasn't just a chubby kid, but quite fat for a while, was probably so awful to his siblings because he was bullied as well. I don't even have the courage to ask him about it now. As the writer of the blog above was able to break away from the teasing mostly, my brother did as well. I know that at one point he started drama and had a great moment where he put on a jacket he hadn't had a chance to put on and it didn't fit and he broke out into the Tommy Boy "Fat man in a little coat" song. I am pretty sure that this might have been his changing moment. He also joined the football team. And I have never been more proud of him than I was when I heard of the award he won his first season. That he tried the hardest. He has never been a big runner, but even if it took him an hour later than everyone else, he ALWAYS finished the runs assigned at practice. He ALWAYS finished whatever was assigned at practice. He ALWAYS made it to practice. I think that earned him so much respect that people stopped making fun of him and he started to lose all of his weight from football and wrestling practice. But in reality, what he went through, how he got over it, does it still affect him, whatever, that is his story to tell. All I know is that I was a real shitty older sister and even at the somewhat grown up age of 32 I still can't bring myself to ask him. I just can't do it. 

I was also the victim of bullying. And not just by kids my age, by adults. It's not like kids are too stupid to know when an adult doesn't like them and then to have that adult join in with ostracizing the child is crushing.

I remember the earliest time during preschool and I have an awful tendency to day dream. I remember all the time kids at preschool always saying "what are you staring at? hey stupid! what's wrong with you?" and then the name "Stupid" sticks.

I was always a tom boy. I wanted my hair short so my long hair would quit getting stuck in trees and swings. It just got in the way. Girls don't normally want to play with the tom boy and then make fun of the girl who plays with the boys.

Due to circumstances that I think were beyond both my parents, my home life was very lax. There weren't very many rules, there were no chores, there wasn't any type of regularity. There was not a whole lot of stability regarding what was expected of us. I am not sure to this day if it was because of the way we were raised or because of the lack of raising that I dealt with what I did regarding kids and teasing. At this point it doesn't matter for me, but I would like to think that maybe it was a certain lacking and maybe I can prevent some of it in my kids having gone through it. 

I have always been strange, weird, kooky, quirky, use whatever name you want to use, but if you know me and you say otherwise...well, you are either lying to my face or you don't know me at all.  I have a certain condition called diarrhea of the mouth and I have no filter for what comes out. I don't know what is acceptable to talk about and I don't know when to shut up. And to add to that, I am an awful know-it-all. 

To add this this, I was the skinny, freckle face, braces/retainer wearing, glasses kid with big feet and frizzy hair. Always with the frizzy hair. :/

My mom was going through a lot when I was a kid and she was dealing with her own things so she wasn't really able to sit with us every night and make sure that we were bathing or brushing our teeth. I don't really know how other kids learn about hygiene or when to shave or put on deodorant or that you really have to brush every day, but there wasn't really much of a presence in this sort of thing. I remember every once in a while, but I just don't think that it was present enough to really create a habit of hygiene.

Then, the croup de grace of the deal was that I wasn't LDS. In a pretty small town at the time where that is the main religion, it kind of sticks out like a sore thumb.

I was told on more than one occasion "I can't play with you anymore because you aren't Mormon." Or "I can't sleep at your house, but you can sleep at ours, but only on Sunday and you have to come to church with me."

I was not athletically savvy and I had asthma.

Need I go on? 

Don't get me wrong, I did have my one best friend the whole way through elementary school. I did have friends off and on throughout until 6th grade. I was friends with every one at least long enough to have a play date. 

I always felt ugly, but my validation came in 6th grade. I remember where in the class I was sitting, who my teacher was, and this boy who was sitting next to me. He turned to me and said, "You sure are ugly. You know that?" 

Do you reply to that? Do you just...what the heck do you do? I just hung my head and said "yes. I do know that."

7th and 8th grade is where I shut down and if I hadn't been instilled that those who kill themselves go to hell and it is the most horrendous, awful, torture for all of eternity, I would not be here to write this story. Every day I wanted to die. Every day, I just wanted to be gone.  

I met a girl who was Baptist like I was, she didn't like my current best friend, and because she was the same religion I was, I decided maybe she'd be better for me. That ended in my losing my best friend who in spite of my strangeness still liked me for me and feeling like I had no one. I was ridiculed at church, I didn't fit in with the kids there, I was openly teased and no one stopped it, at one point, one of the youth leaders joined in. I would ride around with them with my headphones on and by accident I learned that they would talk about me with me in the car. I started to just put my headphones on and listen to those around me.

I did have a few friends in junior high, but they were school friends. I don't think I ever did anything with friends the whole time I was in junior high. I didn't feel like I fit in with anyone. I know that is pretty normal, but I really had no one. I would go home every day and sit in my room and read. My siblings remember me best that way. Or worst I guess.

I don't know if I didn't feel like I fit in for any other reason than I just didn't feel like a kid. I didn't get giggly, I didn't squeal, I just wasn't a typical 12 year old. I would rather go to my Granny's and talk to her. Or hang out with my mom. But I was very aware of boys and desperately wanted some sort of recognition of me as a girl. I didn't want to feel so ugly. I didn't want to know that boys felt the same way that I did...but I always had phone calls from boys, they'd pretend that they liked me, then ask me to go steady, then that boy and all of his friends would laugh and tell me they couldn't believe I would think anyone would want to date me. I was disgusting, I was ugly, I was dumb. Over and over and over. 

I managed to get to 9th grade and 3 things happened... I got contacts (even though it took me giving my dad the silent treatment for a while because he promised and then said never mind), I got my braces off, and my hair had grown long enough that the perm was gone and I figured out how to do it.  Oh, and for some reason eyeliner is another thing. I don't know what it is about dark eyeliner, but it makes me feel like a different person.

I don't know what happened at church to make things different for me, but I think a lot of it has to do with the women there who were outright mean to me were gone. They either no longer were at church or they were no longer in position of "power". I also happened to meet a very great friend my 10th grade year who explained to me what was turning people off. She told me that I was a know-it-all. She was my mentor of sorts and with her by my side, I didn't need anyone else. I feel that was the beginning. I was able to give off an "I don't care what you think of me" vibe. I am told often that they never had any idea that anyone's opinion mattered to me.  Or that I always had a very confident air about me. I guess that would be my wall. I learned to fit in with the misfits. The skaters, the goths, the smokers, the partiers, the kids who dressed funny, the parking lot crowd. Those were the kids that I could let my strange creep out and I didn't get much flack or they'd let me know what about it just wasn't ok. Who would have thought the outcasts would be teaching me social graces?

Even in my "I'm more comfortable about myself" years, I still had to deal with teasing. There was a small group of kids in High School who I just hated. They were always mean, belittling, would go out of their way to embarrass and individual just to get a laugh. My poor friend worked with a couple of them and in our innocence, she invited me to the holiday dinner her work was having. I had friends who were interested in the same gender, but it didn't ever dawn on me that people thought it was a bad thing or something to be ashamed of. I went to this dinner as a friend and people were teasing us that it was a date. That was my first experience with teasing due to sexuality. And although I didn't really care, I think it embarrassed my friend a lot. I didn't care because I had a boyfriend. I think she did care because she was so shy and did not, in fact, have a boyfriend. Or maybe she cared because these people just teased her all of the time and this was just something else. This particular instance is the reason that I turn into 'mama bear' when people start to say or do anything that is negative towards the LGBT community. What if this friend just happened to be a lesbian and they shamed her to turn her back on who she is? I am still hurt that people tried to shame me into being something that I wasn't. I am weird. I am strange. I view the world differently and I have been shamed that it isn't the social norm. I was shamed that I wasn't LDS. I shouldn't be shameful of what I am.

So, I am now an adult and as a kid you are always told that things get better, and that's just a lie. I have been teased, made fun of, been cast as an outsider, ugly things have been said and that has happened after high school. Bullying never stops. It just changes faces. 

It's the guy who picks his nose and is stinky. It's the guy who makes the same lame jokes over and over. It's the guy who is just a little strange and is overly friendly. It's the girl who, no matter what, smells like onions. It's the girl who has a speech impediment. It's the girl who is the only white girl at work. It's the girl who is dating/married to the guy the mean girl likes. It's the new girl. It's the guy who just started work who is very effeminate. It's the girl who doesn't want to party. It's the girl who got the job everyone else wanted. It's the guy who just doesn't fit into the social norm. Or even in family members. I have two specific family members that have always made me feel very inadequate and wrong in every way. One of them, I used to be told that "that's just her way." And as an adult, I won't allow her to make me feel that way. I will call her on every back handed comment she makes and it has slowed down a lot. The other one, well, I guess my brother and I were everything she did not like. But, she was everything that I did not like so we lived in mutual irritation. Every day I see it. I think I have done a pretty good job of being friendly to those. I know I have sunk low and just to be part of the group I have joined in, but I try very hard to rectify that wrong. 

After talking to these people, you realize there are things going on and I really have no place to judge. 

So... after WAY too many days of writing this, here it is. I didn't really get into as much as I'd like because I had way too many distractions. If I had the ability to just sit and write, I would get more in, but having to stop and take care of babies and the hubs, I realize how draining it is to write this and I stop. 

All in all, I was an awful sister to my siblings because I was picked on and I was so unhappy and I was just a kid, I didn't know how to differentiate my feelings from what and separate them. I was mad so I was mad at everything. I was hurt so it was everything that hurt me. I didn't get to know my siblings, I fought with them, I yelled at them, I scared them, I was even meaner to Teej cause he was just as bad. I didn't have any way of saying to my parents that this is what's going on because I didn't feel that they could do anything. I didn't get to know my family. I shut down completely and what I have learned from that is what I will not allow my children to do. I DO NOT blame my parents for their parenting. They only did what they knew how. My disclaimer is this... their parents came a long way from what they grew up with, my parents came a long way from what they grew up with, and I hope to go a long way from what I grew up with. In reality, they did a pretty dang good job from what they were taught from their parents so for that, I am grateful. 

As for the emotional breakdown, please excuse the above mentioned crying fits. I do not deal well with PMS and if I can hide from it, that's great. But between being a single parent for way too long due to the hunting season and all of this stuff online due to the bullying and suicides, it just put me in a very bad place. Thankfully I have gotten this out and I really wish that I didn't feel the need to hold back a little just so that I didn't scare my family, married in and otherwise. 

I just wish people would realize that we are all broken just a little and no one wants those faults to be brought to light. I just keep thinking that what we consider to be our faults, really may not be faults at all. I think I have some pretty endearing quirky faults. ;)

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

This is not what I was thinking.

Six months ago...has it really only been 6 months?! I feel like I have lived a life time in 6 months. Kids really do age you... anyway, 6 months ago, we took Linus into the Asthma and Allergy Clinic to find out what cause the asthma attack that put him in the hospital for 3 days.

What?! Linus in the hospital?! I must be joking... alas, I am not. :)

So, the initial diagnosis was that he had severe allergies to rats and mice, moderate allergies to dog saliva and dander, mild allergies to some grasses, cats, rabbits, deer, eggs, and nothing to peanuts or birds.

We have had his allergies under control for the most part and due to the inevitable dog run-in, he is mostly runny nose free. We have gotten him off of his singulair, flovent, and albuterol on a daily basis to albuterol only as needed and using benedryl and claritin as prevention.

The doctor wanted to see him at the 6 month mark to see how treatment was going and how he was responding and if there were any changes.

Because of his allergy to eggs, she did a scratch test for egg to see how bad it was and a scratch test for the flu shot since it is created in the egg yolk. She also decided to test him for peanuts and tree nuts just for the in case.

Poor little guy got his scratch tests, I had no idea we were doing that this visit, he cried, he wiggled cause he was uncomfortable, and then we saw that he was negative for peanuts and flu, barely discernible for tree nuts, and a bigger reaction to egg than last time.

I did ask her if duck eggs were more or less the same as chicken eggs, or if he would be able to eat duck eggs with no problem. Apparently, there have been no studies done on the subject. So, no eggs period.

He got his flu shot.

Then, I got a prescription for an epi-pen...that left me a little speechless. I am not sure that I was ever expecting that in this whole fiasco of allergies.

She explained that food allergies can become anaphylaxic quickly and unexpectedly. He could be just fine and just naturally grow out of his food allergy which is common, but there is a new protocol for food allergies and that is to prescribe the epi pen just to avoid any severe complications.

Matt brought them home and was thoroughly freaked out when the pharmacist told him to be careful. One pharmacist ended up with the needle shoved through the finger, through the fingernail, and out the other side.