Y’all have to check this webpage out. It’s got everything from Dolly Parton singing “Stairway to Heaven” to Abba songs in Hindi. The out-takes from Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis recording a promo nearly made me wet my pants.
The sheer inanity, stupidity, and idiocy of the stuff that comes out of my mouth sometimes amazes even me.
Check out this house, for sale north of Seattle for $259k. It’s got a four story deep bunker underneath it, is build to withstand a nuclear blast 2.5 miles away, has its own generator, water tank, and independent ventilation systems, and the computer room is EMP shielded. Directly out of a Heinlein novel! The Achilles heel? It’s hooked up to city sewer.
Doh!
When Jo was born in 1999 I had a really long and difficult labor. After pushing for over 4 hours, it was finally over. At around 3 weeks, Jo developed a fever of unknown origin. Because she was so young, she had to go into the hospital for..3? I think 3 nights, just before Thanksgiving. It turned out to be a UTI, but they had to do all sorts of horrible and invasive tests, including catheterization, IVs (tiny baby veins blow out a lot, and they had to restart it 4 or 5 times), and a lumbar puncture. My God that was a horrible time, watching a team of medical people hold down my brand new daughter as they put a needle into her spine.
Around that time she also started having problems nursing. She would fight at the breast and whip her head back and forth, arching her back and grimacing. This got worse and worse and developed into full-blown colic. She would start fussing a little and it would turn into horrible blood-curdling screaming that lasted for an hour straight or more. She would scream so hard that she didn’t sound human anymore; it was an insectile, buzzing noise.
Even when she wasn’t crying I could still hear it. In the shower I would close the door and turn on the fan and step into the stream and I would hear her start to cry. Panicked, I’d run out and open the door and hub would tell me she was still asleep. As soon as I got back into the shower I’d hear screaming again.
It turned out that she had reflux and a milk protein sensitivity, so a change of formula (I had to use a supplemental nurser) and some medication eventually helped her. She had her last bout of colic at around 9 months.
There is no way to describe colic in terms you can understand. Your new baby screams as if in horrible pain for hours, and there is nothing you can do to help. No amount of babysitting can prepare you for it. Nothing in the world can make you feel more helpless.
It’s probably no surprise that I developed post-partum depression. In my case, it manifests as horrible anxiety. At first it was just a gnawing feeling that I had forgotten something, like I left the oven on or forgot to pay the phone bill. It grew until I was sure, every time hub left the house, that he was going to die while he was gone. I wouldn’t let anyone cross the room holding a knife, because I knew they would trip and the knife would fly out of their hand and impale Jo’s soft spot. I can’t even remember all the irrational thoughts I had at that point, but I do remember thinking very clearly that I was going crazy. I eventually found out that PPD can cause anxiety, and that I could even have some PTSD from the labor I had. A few months of an anti-depressant cured me, and all was well.
Caroline was born on 9/7/01. My labor with her was one of the worst experiences of my life. The doctor on call was verbally abusive. Thinking about her makes my heart pound. I get physically ill when I come across shows like A Baby Story. The thought of having another baby fills me with fear. And 4 days after Caroline was born, the world fell apart.
So it’s probably no surprise that I developed anxiety again after her birth. I knew what it was right away and contacted a psychiatrist. The worst part was waiting the 6 weeks until I could get an appointment. Since I was breastfeeding more with Caroline, I couldn’t take the same medication that helped me the first time. I spent a few months on medicine that didn’t work. Finally I did some calculations on how much breastmilk Caroline actually got, and it was a tiny amount, so I was able to take the original medicine.
A week or so ago my pills ran out, and I kept forgetting to refill the prescription. I decided it had been well over 18 months, so I’d just try to go it without the med. The anxiety started creeping back again.
Dammit! How long is this going to go on? Caroline will be 2 this Sunday. I do not want to be on medication for the rest of my life. I want to be whole again. I hate having to take pills. I resent having to take pills. I feel weak having to rely on them. The shrink said that he was going to try taking me off them this fall, but if it didn’t work a week ago, why would it in a month?
I just finished The Tooth Fairy by Graham Joyce. At some site I had seen it listed as a really scary book, and I started reading it with great expectations. Turns out that it’s your basic group-of-boys-coming-of-age novel, which is not necessarily a bad thing, but it’s like drinking a swig of Dr. Pepper and discovering it’s really water in your glass.
The book itself was entertaining and fairly compelling. The opening chapter is absolutely chilling and will make me think twice before dangling my toes in a body of water. I guess I recommend the book, maybe 4 out of 5 stars. It’s strange. Did you ever read a book and have trouble deciding whether you liked it or not? I think I will need to read it again in another 6 months, now that I know what it’s about, and judge it then.
In the meantime I am still looking for a really scary book. Something that will give me the shuddering creeps, like The Haunting of Hill House, or The Shining. Have a suggestion?
…was a failure to communicate.
Anyway, there was a message Saturday night about the baby, but it was on hub’s cell phone voicemail and Sprint was screwed up and never gave him a new voicemail notification. Therefore we all blame Sprint.
Both dogs are in considerable intestinal distress and have painted the walls and floor of two separate rooms in 2 different houses lovely shades of brown. They also decided to charge all the kids who get off the schoolbus outside of our house. They are about to be mounted and hung on the wall. The kids are pretty constantly fighting about Every. Single. Thing. Max’s ass smells. Maddie keeps howling. Hotels in Las Vegas keep sending me enticing offers to stay there and I’m pondering running away from home. Oh, and I was 3 pounds heavier when I came home from the ranch; hopefully it was a cycle thing (which, by the way, is out of freaking whack, thanks).
They need to invent calorie-free alcohol.
I read on Binkey’s blog that M.S. had her baby on Saturday. Congratulations! Her husband left us a cryptic message this morning with the number for the hospital, but he didn’t happen to mention why they were there, or that there was a baby involved.
This is, however, an improvement from last time she had a baby, which I found out about 3 days later from a forwarded email from a mutual friend.
I will try not to be bitter until I know the whole story!
I’ve been getting a lot of hits from people searching for the lyrics of the song “Manifold de Amour” by Latin Playboys (a.k.a. Los Lobos). I’m pretty sure this is right:
Voy a navegar
al puerto del alma
cruzando el mar
hasta que llegaré
in English:
I’m going to sail
to the port of the soul
crossing the sea
until I arrive
It was featured on the Desperado soundtrack. Not sure about the sudden interest, though – is it in Once Upon a Time in Mexico or something?
Anyway, hope it helps.