First, let me say how glad I was to see someone else's blog post when I arrived on site - though I'm sorry to hear the circumstances. Twinks, here's hoping you and Twinklette make it through the remaining daddy-free time without committing hara-kiri.
Y'all know the big bad sad news about the passing of the grandmama. The finality is hard but I can't miss her any more than I already did. I'm not going to get into that because I already have the dehydrated/tears headache. I'd rather talk about this.
I pop on the Facebook this morning for the love and support of condolence notes (thanks, girls), and what do I see but a status update from War Bride, whom y'all will recall dropped out of college this summer to marry my 23-year-old cousin and move to Mississippi for his Air Force pilot training. We all know what's coming, don't we?
Yes, War Bride and Pilot are expecting. This is not exactly a shock - as Little Sis said earlier today, "Think how fresh those eggs must be, she's only been through puberty for about three years." Here's what slew me: she's due October 27. Some of you may be furrowing your brows to do the math, as I was this morning, so let me save you the trouble. Forget the first trimester, I'm not sure she's even out of the first month. Evidently War Bride peed on the stick and posted on the Facebook at the same time.
She is a sweet girl, and I'm sure she's excited about being a mama - what else does she have to do in Columbus, Mississippi? And God bless her, I sincerely hope they do have a happy healthy baby on or around October 27, without any complications. But as we all realize, there is good reason to keep these things to yourself for a little while. I guess when you're 20, the only sad pregnancy stories you know are the ones about girls who got knocked up after prom.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Twinkle: The Cough from Hell and the Worst Timing Ever
Most of you know that for the past few months I've been living the life similar to that of the teen moms on a certain MTV series: lonely, pregnant, with an absent babydaddy and (as in the case of some of the more wayward girls) another small child at my hip. The only difference between me and gals of Sixteen and Pregnant is home decor. I'll say it: mine's better.
Anyway, forgive me but I just have to rant. It all started when Twinklette developed a violent cough two weeks ago. Here's a concise timeline, which is really boring, but shows you just how long this has been going on and how incredibly annoyed I am with her doctor right now.
* Two weeks ago: Twinklette coughs so violently she barfs on herself and on the floor. We immediately visit the doctor but are happily dismissed and sent on our merry way without any medication or real diagnosis.
* All that week and last week: the cough persists.
* Last Friday: just as Mr. Twinkle is about to leave town, Twinklette becomes incredibly hard to deal with and complains that her ears are hurting. The cough has become an ear infection.
* Last Friday night: Twinklette spends the night with my in-laws, where they blithely watch the verboten Sesame Street and are under strict orders to call me if she gets sick or needs me. I know they will not do this, but she has to spend the night because Mr. Twinkle has an early flight to Florida and it's just better for everyone this way. I am already p*ssed at her doctor at this point.
* Last Saturday: Twinklette comes home with broken blood vessels around her eyes from violent coughing (which, shockingly, went unreported by my inlaws*). The pediatrician's answering service and I both mistake this for an allergic reaction to the antibiotic, so we spend hours that afternoon in the Pediatric Acute Care center on Poplar Level Road, which is filled with the dregs of society and is pretty much the free clinic of pediatric services. (I told you I was like one of those teen moms). The ear infection has become a double ear infection.
* Monday: Twinklette's school calls to report nasty stomach issues that have ruined an outfit. (I was on the phone with Lola when all this went down). They give her a t-shirt and someone else's socks (yes, apparently this episode affected even her socks) but when I arrive to pick her up, they say she seems fine and is having fun, so I let her stay.
* Tuesday (today): I try to have a fun day with Twinklette but it's filled with drama, tears, whining (and also more stomach problems), and I start to wonder if she's just going through a really unpleasant phase or what. I Google the side effects of her drug. As suspected, they include stomach issues and diaper rash, but also the complete inability to listen and cooperate, as well as whining, crying, ignoring one's mother, and having an overall b*tchy attitude from dawn 'til dusk. (This was officially listed as "hyperactivity and irritability," but we know that's just code for "royal b*tch").
So. Here we are. And I'm glad I Googled the side effects so now I can be a little more understanding of where all the drama is coming from. But DEAR LORD could it be worse timing? Mr. Twinkle skipped town the day after the medication started, and she has to be on it for 10 days--6 of which he will be gone. I do realize that he's working hard and that we will all eventually benefit from his tireless dedication, so I can't really be mad at him.
You know who I'm mad at? The d*mn doctor. If she had given us some d*mn cough syrup two weeks ago, we would not be in the downward spiral of unpleasantness we're in now.
Anyway...that's my rant, and I feel better. Thanks for listening!
* Oh, and it'll be a long, long time before Twinklette spends the night over there again.
Anyway, forgive me but I just have to rant. It all started when Twinklette developed a violent cough two weeks ago. Here's a concise timeline, which is really boring, but shows you just how long this has been going on and how incredibly annoyed I am with her doctor right now.
* Two weeks ago: Twinklette coughs so violently she barfs on herself and on the floor. We immediately visit the doctor but are happily dismissed and sent on our merry way without any medication or real diagnosis.
* All that week and last week: the cough persists.
* Last Friday: just as Mr. Twinkle is about to leave town, Twinklette becomes incredibly hard to deal with and complains that her ears are hurting. The cough has become an ear infection.
* Last Friday night: Twinklette spends the night with my in-laws, where they blithely watch the verboten Sesame Street and are under strict orders to call me if she gets sick or needs me. I know they will not do this, but she has to spend the night because Mr. Twinkle has an early flight to Florida and it's just better for everyone this way. I am already p*ssed at her doctor at this point.
* Last Saturday: Twinklette comes home with broken blood vessels around her eyes from violent coughing (which, shockingly, went unreported by my inlaws*). The pediatrician's answering service and I both mistake this for an allergic reaction to the antibiotic, so we spend hours that afternoon in the Pediatric Acute Care center on Poplar Level Road, which is filled with the dregs of society and is pretty much the free clinic of pediatric services. (I told you I was like one of those teen moms). The ear infection has become a double ear infection.
* Monday: Twinklette's school calls to report nasty stomach issues that have ruined an outfit. (I was on the phone with Lola when all this went down). They give her a t-shirt and someone else's socks (yes, apparently this episode affected even her socks) but when I arrive to pick her up, they say she seems fine and is having fun, so I let her stay.
* Tuesday (today): I try to have a fun day with Twinklette but it's filled with drama, tears, whining (and also more stomach problems), and I start to wonder if she's just going through a really unpleasant phase or what. I Google the side effects of her drug. As suspected, they include stomach issues and diaper rash, but also the complete inability to listen and cooperate, as well as whining, crying, ignoring one's mother, and having an overall b*tchy attitude from dawn 'til dusk. (This was officially listed as "hyperactivity and irritability," but we know that's just code for "royal b*tch").
So. Here we are. And I'm glad I Googled the side effects so now I can be a little more understanding of where all the drama is coming from. But DEAR LORD could it be worse timing? Mr. Twinkle skipped town the day after the medication started, and she has to be on it for 10 days--6 of which he will be gone. I do realize that he's working hard and that we will all eventually benefit from his tireless dedication, so I can't really be mad at him.
You know who I'm mad at? The d*mn doctor. If she had given us some d*mn cough syrup two weeks ago, we would not be in the downward spiral of unpleasantness we're in now.
Anyway...that's my rant, and I feel better. Thanks for listening!
* Oh, and it'll be a long, long time before Twinklette spends the night over there again.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Julep: Surely You Jest.
I just got home from a SuperBowl party at Mr-Sister's house. Mr. J is out of town but she invited me to come without him, which was awfully nice of her. I've gotten to know several of her friends well over the years, and I enjoy them. So off I went, and who ended up sitting beside me but her good friend S.
S is a sweet girl; I like her very much; she is also pregnant. This is not too big a deal - y'all know I am not one to begrudge, and although she is seven years younger than I am in fact S has been married longer. So although I didn't start asking her any happy baby questions, I was fine. Until ...
J, another gal pal of Mr-Sister's, is getting married in July, and it seems that they have already scheduled the weekend for J's bachelorette festivities. The girls discovered this evening that there is some fabulous music festival in Gulf Shores, Alabama on J's bachelorette weekend. Excitement ensued with great discussion of whether they can go to Gulf Shores for the bachelorette. S's husband called from across the room, "I don't think the doctor will OK that for you!" She said, "Well, maybe I can go ... when is it?" May 22. "I could maybe go. I'll see, anyway." Much joking from the room. She seemed annoyed.
So I asked her, quietly, "When are you due?" June 11, she said. I laughed and said, "I think you will have to sit this one out, no doctor will let you take a road trip to Gulf Shores at that point." And she said, "Well, you know, I'm planning to do a natural birth and all, so the doctor really isn't the final say."
Honey. I don't care if you are planning to spawn this child from your cranium like Athena from the head of Zeus. When you are TWENTY DAYS from your due date, you cannot be driving across three states to spend a weekend in the hot sun wandering around a music festival. I am sorry to be the one to break the news to you, but this will be the first of many fun times that your single, childless girlfriends will be having without you. Deal with it.
Oh, and at halftime, her husband stepped out to the backyard to smoke some weed.
Is it possible to call Child Protective Services before the baby is actually born? I would like to exercise eminent domain on that fetus.
S is a sweet girl; I like her very much; she is also pregnant. This is not too big a deal - y'all know I am not one to begrudge, and although she is seven years younger than I am in fact S has been married longer. So although I didn't start asking her any happy baby questions, I was fine. Until ...
J, another gal pal of Mr-Sister's, is getting married in July, and it seems that they have already scheduled the weekend for J's bachelorette festivities. The girls discovered this evening that there is some fabulous music festival in Gulf Shores, Alabama on J's bachelorette weekend. Excitement ensued with great discussion of whether they can go to Gulf Shores for the bachelorette. S's husband called from across the room, "I don't think the doctor will OK that for you!" She said, "Well, maybe I can go ... when is it?" May 22. "I could maybe go. I'll see, anyway." Much joking from the room. She seemed annoyed.
So I asked her, quietly, "When are you due?" June 11, she said. I laughed and said, "I think you will have to sit this one out, no doctor will let you take a road trip to Gulf Shores at that point." And she said, "Well, you know, I'm planning to do a natural birth and all, so the doctor really isn't the final say."
Honey. I don't care if you are planning to spawn this child from your cranium like Athena from the head of Zeus. When you are TWENTY DAYS from your due date, you cannot be driving across three states to spend a weekend in the hot sun wandering around a music festival. I am sorry to be the one to break the news to you, but this will be the first of many fun times that your single, childless girlfriends will be having without you. Deal with it.
Oh, and at halftime, her husband stepped out to the backyard to smoke some weed.
Is it possible to call Child Protective Services before the baby is actually born? I would like to exercise eminent domain on that fetus.
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