Goodbye Gallbladder, Hello Doughnuts

I know I still need to give a few more details about the recent visit of the big bad wolf and his family. All in due time. However, a little more detail about my gallbladder. (I know you've been dying to hear about it!)

After Lydia was born I started having random "attacks," the worst of which was when Brooks and Miranda visited. You've heard all of this... at Miranda's urging, and after more painful episodes I found the best gastrointerologist ever. A few appointments, an ultrasound, and some blood-work later and I was informed that I "was the proud owner of about 24 gallstones."

I'm not sure PROUD is the word I would use to describe this ownership, but it is what it is. I'm proud of my kids and husband, and will certainly be proud to own a home... but gallstones? I think not. At any rate, don't tell the IRS because you better believe I'm not paying taxes on them...

Anyways, back to the doctor. He recommended I have surgery, and told me I needed to meet with the surgeon. This is where "best gastrointerologist ever" comes in. In light of our personal situation (living two hours away and having two young children that have to keep traveling back and forth to these appointments), the "best gastrointerologist ever," aka Dr. Chuang, personally called the surgeon and requested that he fit us into his schedule THAT day so we didn't have to make another trip. The surgeon, as well as his partners, had completely booked schedules, but after more pleading from Dr. Chuang, somehow managed to squeeze us in.

My faith in doctors has been restored.

Anyways, as a result, I am scheduled to have my gallbladder removed tomorrow morning. They just called to tell me my 8:30 arrival time has been changed to 5:30, so apparently the surgery time got moved up. I'm not going to lie, leaving my house at 4am is not ideal, but hey, earlier gone, earlier home right?

Thankfully, Tim's mom was able to drop everything in her life and come down to stay with our kids. Hopefully they aren't too unmanageable (Brooklyn's in the middle of being potty-trained and Lydia won't take a bottle), but if anyone can do it, I know she can. She's amazing.

So goodbye gallbladder, and hello fried foods (Especially doughnuts. I've really been craving one), cheese, and all things fattening. This low-fat/fat-free diet has really been lame. Just in time for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Hallelujah!


P.S.The jury is still out on whether we can keep the gallstones to make personalized earrings and/or Christmas ornaments. If we have your name for Christmas, keep your fingers crossed. :)

SIGNS THAT YOU MIGHT BE A MEMBER OF THE CHURCH

This morning a hunter stopped by to ask Tim a few questions. As he was leaving he asked what church we go to, and after telling him we go to the LDS (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints) Church in town, he replied, "I thought so. You have that feeling [the Spirit] in your home. I'm a member too."

This is quite the compliment; that our home has the peaceful feeling it should have. Unfortunately, I am confident that he deduced our religious stance from the following "signs" rather than the feeling he felt when he walked in.

SIGNS THAT YOU MIGHT BE A MEMBER OF THE CHURCH (to name a few)
1. three foot long picture of Christ hanging on the wall
2. picture of the First Presidency
3. the framed documents "The Living Christ" and "The Family: A Proclamation to the World"
4. mother of two looks to young to have any children
5. no coffee at 9am

However, I will take his compliment at face value and believe that we do have the Spirit in our home. And if not, I have decided that it will be, and should be one of my top life priorities to make sure that regardless of what is hanging on the wall, someone can walk into my home at any time and be overwhelmed with the peace that only the Holy Ghost can provide.

"Who's afraid of the big bad wolf...?"

Remember that post about the calm before the storm? I guess I forgot to knock on wood when I wrote that. Well, the big bad wolf came. And he brought relatives!


In order of arrival on Monday, November 9, 2010:

SISTER BAD WOLF, 7am-- Lydia is projectile vomitting. Change of clothes 3 times before leaving the house at 8am. Continued vomitting all day.

FATHER BAD WOLF, 11am-- My gallbladder is coming out in the next month

BIG BAD WOLF, 6:30pm-- I start a load in the washing machine with the vomitty clothing and flood the house.

BROTHER BAD WOLF, 8:30pm-- I pull a borrowed fan out of the back of the truck, the cord gets stuck and then pops into my lip, cutting it open.

MOTHER BAD WOLF, 9pm-- We borrow a shop vac from the Bishop to start the cleanup at 8:30pm and soon flood the motor and break it.

GRANDPA BAD WOLF, 11:30pm, We borrow a carpet cleaner from another friend around 9:30pm, get things about as dry as we can, and break the carpet cleaner.


In all fairness, I was imagining a much meaner big bad wolf (knock on wood), so it really wasn't as awful of a day as I just made it sound. Just... interesting. More details on a few of the above-mentioned relatives soon.

Happy Halloween!

I don't know how I could have possibly forgotten to blog about Halloween this year! Our community had a Halloween carnival the day before Halloween that we decided to do a booth for, so we picked the fishing pond. We dressed up the girls to go to the Carnival; Brooklyn was a bumblebee and Lydia was a cow.



I had high hopes that Brooklyn would win/collect enough goodies to sustain the family for the next two months until Christmas... but those hopes were dashed as soon as we walked in the door and she started crying hysterically. Oh yeah... I forgot to "prepare" her for other people wearing costumes. She saw a little boy dressed up like Spiderman and decided she would be staying behind the fishing booth the entire night. I was pretty bummed about that. I have no doubt she and Lydia would have won lots of stuff. Granted, we needed both Tim and myself to run the fishing pond. But still. All the work getting into the costumes for nothing?!

At least the fishing pond was a success. We had customers non-stop all night, and we actually made quite a bit of money, even after paying for the toys and treats. I just didn't want to come out negative in the end, so I was pleasantly surprised!


I also donated a cake for the cake walk:


All in all it was a good time. We opted out of trick or treating on Sunday, but Brooklyn had no clue, so we're good.

4 Months Old

Lydia is 4 months old. It's hard to believe. So here's an update:


Weight: 17 lbs. 13 oz.
Length: 25 inches
Very interested in food, but has only had rice cereal 3 times now
Still wakes up 2-3 times a night to eat (and this is a good night)
Laughs at Brooklyn more than anyone else
Laughs at Brooklyn when she's crying
Loves watching Brooklyn
Likes kicking in the bathtub
Likes to be sitting up
Mainly poops when sitting up in the bumbo--> multiple up-the-back blowouts a day
Does NOT like having a messy diaper
Will suck on anything except a bottle or pacifier
Will sit and watch a movie with Brooklyn for a long time
Is pretty happy most of the time, as long as you are holding or playing with her
Is very needy
Likes being outside
Has rolled over a few times from stomach to back, but isn't doing this consistently yet
Does not like having her nails cut
Likes hearing songs
Doesn't mind being on her belly for a while

...and is adorable...

The Calm Before the Storm?

Do you ever get the feeling life is just going a little too good? Despite the little day-to-day things, that you have been sailing smooth waters for too long? Nobody has the perfect life, but is yours a little too perfect for comfort?

*sigh

That's me today. Part of me is wondering if I'm just becoming slightly paranoid, but the other part is wondering if these thoughts and feelings are to prepare me for something.

And then my imagination goes crazy, and it's really quite a downer. So I won't get into that.

So where's the big bad wolf and when is he getting here?

In the ER because I'm gassy... oh boy

Storytime. Does "emergency clinic run" ring a bell? If not, you didn't read my last post. Catch up and then read on.

While we were cleaning up the bullets after we went shooting, my upper stomach/rib cage area started hurting. The pain/pressure continually got worse, until I could barely move. By the time we were loaded up the truck I felt like I couldn't breathe... blah blah blah. Then I started hyperventilating, though I didn't realize it at the time. We weren't going to go to the clinic until after we dropped the kids off at home with Brooks and Miranda, but Miranda thankfully thought better and told Tim to go straight to the clinic. By this time, my arms and hands were numb, the pain was unbearable, and I couldn't take a normal breath. I really can only compare it to the pain of childbirth. I felt like I kept going "in and out" of it, and frankly, I wanted nothing more than to pass out to be rid of the pain. But to no avail.

So I got to ride the wheelchair into the clinic (That was a first for me, despite already having had two children. It was exciting). Anyways, after they got my breathing back under control and they ruled out a heart problem, I was given a GI cocktail (Yes, my first "cocktail") of lidocaine and mylanta, to numb my stomach and hopefully take care of the pain. It did reduce the pain considerably, but there was still enough pressure right underneath my sternum to be noticeable and annoyingly painful.

The doctor wasn't sure what the problem was, though we came to the joint conclusion that perhaps it was due to indigestion. As we were leaving I questioned: "So... you're saying I came to the ER (the clinic after hours) because I'm gassy?"


We all laughed, but what a horribly embarrassing story! I vowed not to blog about it. And yet, here I am.

I only blog because I am convinced my "attack" was not due to gas or indigestion, but to gallstones. I just wanted to make that public and on the record so when I find out it is gallstones, I can gloat.

This pain has happened 3 other times since having Lydia, all of which were during the middle of the night, and not nearly as severe. Pain underneath the sternum area, and through to my back. It's really awful, but only lasts a few hours. Antacids don't help, and neither does "stink-bugging" it.

(This is a stink bug... bum in air to relieve gas):


We went to the Center for Digestive Diseases (sounds scary huh) and now I'm scheduled for some blood work and an ultrasound of my epigastric region.

Hopefully we'll figure out the problem soon, and hopefully it won't involve the removal of my gallbladder. It's not like we REALLY need that organ anyways right? Well, no, not for survival... but 10-20% (depending on which website you check) of people that have it removed have chronic diarrhea.

NO THANK YOU.

Plus, I don't have time for all the shenanigans with surgery.

We love visitors

As I mentioned, Brooks and Miranda trekked to "Middle of Nowhere, AZ" to visit. We really appreciate them making such a long drive to visit us. We don't get too many visitors nowadays that we don't live on the way to anywhere.

We wowed them with a tour of the town, went swimming, carved pumpkins, beat them in a few games, went shooting, and let them babysit our kids while Tim took me to the clinic for an emergency run. But that story is for later...

Thanks to Miranda's amazing camera, which I secretly (or not so secretly) covet, we have some great candid shots.

Here are some pictures of Brooklyn's favorite hair-do, also courtesy of Miranda's talents. Brooklyn can't sit still for me to comb her hair, but she had no problem sitting for this fancy "do."


And if you ever wanted to see a picture of what Brooks would look like as a miner... (Yes, our park is modeled after the local mine) Here it is:


I kid. Brooks was a great sport hanging out while we did our boring everyday routine. Eat, nap, play. Brooklyn loved having him push her at the park.


We went out shooting the day before they left, which I thought, was a lot of fun. Don't underestimate the importance of your ear protection.


Here are a few more pictures of us shooting. I felt a little like GI-Jane out there... well, when I wasn't holding the wussier of the two guns.





Thanks for coming to visit you guys. We'll take you back ANYTIME.

We're a Pumpkin-Lovin Family

Hallelujah, it's October! In addition to slowly dropping temperatures (yes, it's usually under 95 degrees during the day now), we have also embraced pumpkin season. We decided to carve pumpkins when Brooks and Miranda came to visit, which made things way more fun. Carving was "cool" for Brooklyn for about 5 seconds of the poking/outlining, and then she was off. She wanted nothing to do with the pumpkin guts, nor the actual carving. So why do we do these things again and again every year? Traditions? Hmm... Thanks to Tim, we managed to put out two nice pumpkins.




The itty-bitty pumpkin was Brooklyn's. Unfortunately, by the next morning, someTHING had taken off with it and it was nowhere to be found. Yes, we looked. The THING did leave behind the candle. Much appreciated. (By the way, I'm not referring to some "spooky" Halloween tradition where someTHING, aka mom or dad, takes one of the pumpkins and hides it. The stealing of the pumpkin by the skunk and/or javelina that resides in the culvert next to our house, was not planned...)


The cat pumpkin belongs to Tim and I, and the vampirish one belongs to Brooks and Miranda. They claim that Tim and I making out was the inspiration for their pumpkin (like they've ever seen us do that. PLEASE, we are so not newlyweds anymore...). You'll notice the look of horror our innocent cat pumpkin is making as it watches the makeout session next-door.

Sadly enough, two days later, the top to the cat pumpkin was also missing.

Anyways. That's enough about pumpkins. More pictures and stories to come.

Bathing with glow sticks

Have you ever taken a bath with glow sticks?

That's what I thought.

Don't knock the idea til you've tried it. VERY cool.

Gettin' Big

Lydia will be 4 months old tomorrow... so before I forget, here's her 3 month shot. Oops :)

True confession: I'm a list cheater

True confession. I'm a compulsive lister.

I need lists for everything, partially because of my horrible memory, but more so because I like the feeling I get when I cross something off that list. Let's call it a "high of completion." I have lists for the grocery store, lists for Walmart, birthday idea lists, to-do lists, etc. I mean, who doesn't?

True confession. I'm a list cheater.

Some days I don't sit down to write a list until lunchtime; the first chance I get to sit down when both children are strapped to chairs. Even though I have already gotten a few things done, you better believe I'm still going to write them down on my list, simply so I can cross them off again. A waste of ink and paper? Perhaps, but it is quite the boost to my sense of accomplishment.

Example:

Sure it's lunchtime and I have already done half of the list, but that's why it's so great writing all of those already-accomplished-things down! Besides, then if the house is a mess, I'm a mess, the dishes aren't done, and dinner's not planned, I can still feel like I accomplished something. I mean, check out how many things I crossed off already. You should really try it sometime. I won't judge.

Flossing? What's that?

Last week I went to the dentist for my bi-yearly torture session. Which, I will share, is noticeably LESS tortuous when your appointment is in the morning. This is before the stresses of a day's worth of patients can be taken out on your teeth and gums...

Anyways, at the end of my cleaning the hygienist told me that my "problem" area is around the corners of my teeth, and that I need to spend more time each day flossing around these corners.

I almost laughed, but then I realized she was serious.

She obviously didn't realize that "flossing around the corner of my teeth" is not a huge priority for me right now. Had we had more bonding time without my mouth stretched to the limits, I might have reminded her that I'm lucky if I get to brush my teeth twice a day, much less floss. Frankly, if I can shower atleast every other day and brush my teeth twice a day, it's been a darn good week.


My Priorities
1.Survival of my children. This includes but is not limited to the following: physical, mental, spiritual, and emotional well-being.
Specifically?
Physical: at least one nutritional meal a day as well as several other meal-ish/snack times, clean-ish clothing, baths as often as "stinky" child persists, medical attention when necessary, lots of hugs, exercising through dancing/jumping on my bed and playing tag, and diaper changes every once in a while
Mental: ample time singing the ABC's, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, The Wheels on the Bus, I Am A Child of God, etc., drawing, pretend games, learning numbers
Spiritual: reading scriptures, praying, trying to teach obedience
Emotional: plenty of "I love you," "you're beautiful," "you're so smart and so funny" as well as lots of hugs, kisses, and individual holding time

2. Survival of my husband and self. See above specifics.

3. Sleep

4-100. Other really important things

101. Basic, but not necessarily "critical" (Sorry Mandy...) hygiene rituals. Example: flossing around the corners of my teeth and painting my toenails


My teeth may fall out, but with any luck I can raise healthy and happy children.

I guess I'll keep going to the dentist so my teeth have a guaranteed flossing session at least twice a year.

Payback

Dear Lydia,
Sometimes I have to put you down on the floor or on the couch while I cook dinner. It is just too hard frying chicken while mashing potatoes, setting the table, and cutting up fruit AND holding you at the same time. It is pretty clear by your screaming that you don't like me putting you down in front of the TV, even if it is Baby Einstein. I just want you to know that in about 8 years, you'll be begging me to let you watch TV while I cook dinner. But I won't let you. You will be setting the table, emptying the dishwasher, or grating cheese, etc.

Payback.

But trust me when I say this, it's just because I love you.

"Feelin' hot, hot, hot!"

It's hot here. Really hot. So hot in fact, that when we visited St. George last week, I considered never coming home. Have YOU ever been to St. George?! It's hot. But apparently, not as hot as where we are now.

I called my mom the other day to complain about it being almost 100 degrees in October. (admittedly, it was only October 1st). Then I had flashbacks of when I called her from Provo in September, a few years ago, to complain because it was snowing.

Let's face it, I'm a 70-73 degree kind of girl, with a max 30% humidity level tolerance.

I only bring this up because Halloween is rapidly approaching. And if you are concerned about my "dressing up" as a nudist, you might want to start praying for cooler weather.

I'm just sayin...



*No pictures posted for obvious reasons. You're welcome.

Pictures, and there's a lot more where these came from...

Thanks Stacie for taking some pictures for us. I'm really happy with how they turned out, despite Brooklyn's refusal to smile. :)

 

 

 

 

Tents and s'mores and stars, oh my!

We went camping about a week and a half ago. This is our tent in the middle of nowhere. But it's a very pretty middle-of-nowhere don't you think? Brooklyn discovered ECHOES, which she thought was pretty neat. We had tin-foil dinners and smores, and called it a night. As we looked up at the stars from our bug-free tent, I kept hearing something crawling in what sounded like the corner of our tent. In reality, it was probably between the tent and the tarp underneath. Tim kept assuring me it was probably just a mouse, definitely something small, because the noise would have been louder if it was something bigger. Trust me, the noise was PLENTY loud.

I found the culprit the next morning. A gargantuan spider, possibly the same one that tried to put me into labor at the church building a few months ago (I knew we should have squished it). How he found me yet again, I will never know. As we were packing up the tent we also found a humongous horned beetle, a wind scorpian, and a bark scorpian. All reminders of why I like living indoors.

Despite the attempts on my life, we survived, and actually had a lot of fun. Brooklyn thinks sleeping in a tent and looking at the stars all night is pretty great. Hopefully we'll get to go camping again before it gets cold.

Mary Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?

I hire the best gardener of course.

If I had a nickel for every SMILE...

I'd be diving into piles of coins like Scrooge.







Bet you thought I'd say, "If I had a nickel for every SMILE... I'd be rich." Well, I am.

Water Girls

I signed Brooklyn up for swimming this past summer because she loved being in the water and playing at the pool. She did ok the first time or two that we went, but she slowly digressed as the summer went on, until she finally refused to get in the water with the lifeguards at all. I don't know what happened. She loved swimming when we first moved here.

Anyways, she's pretty pro at blowing bubbles now. And she doesn't mind swimming with Tim and I, as long as we are always holding her. Bummer. This really is a digression. Atleast she'll still go down the slide with us. Before Lydia was born, Brooklyn and I went swimming almost every day, but I can't handle two kids by myself in the water, atleast not yet, so now we only go swimming when Tim has work off. Lydia doesn't seem to mind it, so we try to do it every once in a blue moon.