"Baby Sad"

That's what Sarah sometimes says now when she is crying: "Baby Sad"

And poor little baby did have reason to be sad this week. She ended up with another Urinary Tract Infection - ugh! No fun at all!

For those of you who don't know Sarah's medical history: She was born with a 2-vessel umbilical cord (normally, there are 3 vessels). This can sometimes indicate problems with the heart and/or kidneys. Our prenatal ultrasounds didn't show any issues with either organ. When Sarah was first born we saw a pediatrician in the hospital who didn't feel she needed another ultrasound because in his experience there were just as many babies with this issue and no problems and vice versa. He sent us home.

January of 2008, Sarah was 10 months old and the first "sickness" happened. She got very very ill with an extremely high temp that just wouldn't go away. When we took her to the hospital she was admitted and had to stay for 3 days with a nasty UTI. Tests (an ultrasound and a yucky VCUG) showed she had reflux in the left kidney, the cause of the UTI's. We were sent away with meds for 3 months and a requisition for 6 consecutive monthly urine analysis!

September 2008 - Back to the hospital again for an overnight stay. The doctor said Sarah was a very sick little girl and, without treatment, could have died. (Thank GOD for the miracle of modern medicine, not so many years ago we would no longer have her with us! Ok, let's not think about that please...). Sarah was put back on meds for another 3 months and more urine testing.

Can I tell you how DIFFICULT it is to get a urine sample for an 18 month old? Anatomically speaking, baby girls are slightly less "cooperative" than baby boys. Let's just say I've been peed on lots while laying on a bed reading books to keep Sarah still and occupied with a cup propped under her. Good stuff!

And then just this past Monday, Sarah was being very lethargic. She's almost two - so I probably don't need to tell you it's not normal for her to have been laying on the couch all day. I immediately thought it might be another UTI and sent her urine sample to the clinic. The next couple of days she seemed to be doing a bit better and even went to the sitters one day. My mom-in-law (nurse) checked with the clinic and the secretary said Sarah's urine analysis was in the "to file" pile (she interpreted that as "all ok"). And then on Thursday after Sarah just not being herself for 4 days, the doctor calls to tell us she needs to come in for a script because she DOES indeed have another urinary tract infection.

I packed our bags in a frenzy not knowing if we would have to be admitted to the hospital again or not. And Sarah also had a weird rash breakout which needed to be checked. In my haste, however, I got stuck in a HUGE snowbank in our driveway. Seriously, the snow here in ridiculous right now! Eventually we did get our prescription (the doctor's office/hospital is about a 50 minute drive!) and Sarah was sent home. The rash is completely unrelated and is fine.

So, Sarah is once again on more meds. Today she is finally starting to eat like she normally does, like a little monster...hehe! I hope she sleeps well tonight. Poor thing hasn't been getting much rest and neither have mommy or daddy.

We have another VCUG coming up on the 16th of February to check the progress of the reflux. Keep us in your prayers that all will be well.

If You (attempt to) Give a Baby Some Juice

Have any of you read the children's book "If you Give a Mouse a Cookie". My brother had it as a kid and I always loved it. The mouse starts off by having a cookie, then needs a glass of milk, then needs a mirror to look at his milk mustache, then realizes while looking in the mirror that he needs to trim his hair, then has to sweep up the hair, and then continues to get completely carried away, etc, etc.

I've come to a realization recently (yes, it took me this long to realize it). I am that frikkin' little mouse!

Here's what I mean:
Sarah asks for some juice.
I go to get her sippy cup and realize it's still in the sink unwashed.
I wash it and the rest of the dishes (leaving them to drip-dry, of course).
I start to wipe down the counter.
I spill some crumbs on the floor while wiping the counter.
So I grab a cloth and get down on the floor to pick up the crumbs.
Such close inspection of my floor reminds me of their dire need to be washed.
After washing the floors, I go to throw the cloth in the laundry basket.
The full laundry basket means a load of clothes can go to the wash.
I put that load in the washing machine only to be reminded of the clothes I had forgotten in the dryer that now need to be folded and put away.
I fold the clothes on my bed and put them away.
My messy bed prompts me to attempt at making it by at least pulling the blankets up over the pillow.
Straigtening my bedroom means I come across a glass of water left on my nightstand from last night.
I go to bring the glass to the sink.
I see the sippy cup drip-drying.
And then I finally realize my original task - the baby asked for a cup of juice!

If you give a Myrna a simple task - it turns into a multitude of frantic multitasking. I'm so easily side-tracked. I get it from my dad, he's the same and it's so disorienting to watch. It's no wonder my mind is so muddled and Jamie just shakes his head at me sometimes.

Darn-it-all! And here I thought I had it all together...ha!

And the question remains: Was I always like this? Or is it a mommy thing?

Happy Birthday

...to my Dad!!!

and Christa's Dad and Eulah and Monica...seems like a lot of birthdays today...don't you find there are some days in the year where there are a LOT of birthdays.

For me, I know tons of people born today and March 13th, July 15th, and Sept 5th. Do you have days like that?

This is What Happens When...

...mommy decides to do some blogging in the next room and leaves her toddler to her own devices.



It was Wednesday evening.
Mommy was concentrating on being annoyed at txtspk and blogging about it in the spare bedroom.
Sarah was "colouring" with her new easel and crayons in the living room.
Sarah got bored.
Mommy could hear Sarah exploring in the kitchen cupboards.
Mommy decided to check on Sarah a couple of minutes later when she couldn't figure out what that "clink, clink, clinking" noise was of something hitting the floor.
Mommy finds Sarah emptying the spaghetti box. (shout out to Catelli)
Mommy grabs her camera right away because she couldn't possibly be upset at the mess.











FYI: For those of you who are thinking, "Ok, who goes and leaves her almost-2-year-old alone in the kitchen?":
First, we had finished supper with dishes put away.
Second, we have a small home and our spare bedroom is the first door down the hallway from the kitchen, easily within hearing & "peaking" distance.
And most importantly, our bottom cupboards have been kid-proofed and contain pots and pans (noisy but fun), dish cloths (which Sarah loves to "help" fold), tupperware containers and lids, dry goods (i.e. pasta, as above), and kid snacks. All of our "dangerous" items (cleaners, knives, glassware, etc.) are in out of reach cupboards.

Although I suppose Sarah could have poked her eye out with one of those spaghetti noodles. Phew, that didn't happen!

FUN TIMES!!! Having a little one in the house = NO DULL MOMENTS!

j2luk (Just to Let You Know)

Ok, I know I'm no expert in literary composition but I am so incredibly annoyed by the whole SMS/chat lingo/'text-speak' (txtspk, as it were) world out there.

I understand if you're texting, it's much easier to type "ttyl" rather than the big long closing sentence of "talk to you later". Actually, "ttyl" is one of the few abbreviations I do know in the chat world and use often. Otherwise, I am nearly completely out of the loop because I hardly ever text at all. I agree this chat lingo does have a place in our world today. To deny that would be to admit I'm getting old and the times are passing me by (and, much to my chagrin, they already do that sometimes anyways!) I'm not upset because of my ignorance, truly I'm not!

Here's my pet peeve:
Is it entirely necessary when not texting to continue using txtspk in all forms of communication?

Facebook is where I've noticed this a lot. There are people sending messages back and forth and I'm finding myself extremely concerned for their language skills. Are teenagers using txtspk on purpose so their parents don't have a clue what they're saying? Is it like "pig latin" (which I never got either)? It's just that I'm seeing some of these messages and it appears that some of these people haven't any idea there's a written language out there called English where spelling and grammatical correctness are of significant importance.

Is the written word I love so much being replaced? Are teachers out there having a hard time because their students are turning in essays composed of "lol"'s and "btw"'s? I'm picturing a novel being published 15 years down the road with half the page length because the editor was born in the 2000's and didn't see the point in printing "why" instead of "y" or "if I recall correctly" instead of "iirc". If that ever happens, I am so doomed! lol :)

So, does this officially make me an old-fogie/30-something loser mom-type who's completely out of touch with today's generation? Probably...
Anyways, I figured I may as well try to educate myself in the process of my exasperation and found this link to help me along a little. I guess if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Or, at least do some educated pretending to help you along a little.

(my apologies to those of you who truly do have remarkable spelling and grammatical skills...you're probably thinking I have no room to talk with my own errors)

Hate It or Rate It

I randomly came across this blog called "Lose That Girl" and I adore it!

Basically, Canadian girl decides to find all kinds of STUFF to RATE (she loves it!) or HATE (she, well, hates it).

It's very intriguing and I, quite frankly, haven't the slightest clue where she finds some of these things I've never heard of or seen before (i.e. the bandaids). Did I ever mention my obsession with bandaids as a child? Mom couldn't keep 'em in the house.

Not everything she "rates or hates" is an actual thing, sometimes she rates or hates people and events as well. Todays post is about the Golden Globes, of which I know nothing about and haven't the slightest interest in watching. However, since I am a girl with both television and internet, I have no choice but being immersed in at least some of the details.

The latest thing that interested me the most was her RATE on the new tell-all Sesame Street book. I want to buy it!

Anyways, "Lose That Girl" also received a nomination for the "Best Blog about Stuff". And she's a Gossip Girl fan for those of you who share her love of that show.

Very cool, check her out!

Smoke and Toothpicks

I'm playing catch-up with this post...it was a while back when this happened:

A customer walks into the store. He's an older gentlemen, tall, bald with a long goatee, and I could have easily mistaken him for having rode up on a Harley if not for his gentle demeanor and polite, deep-voiced "Good Morning". He's also wearing a ski jacket, the hip length kind, greenish in colour, with the draw-string waist and bulky pockets. Nope, definitely not a biker dude. Turns out he's a retired accountant - HA! Go figure. So much for my stereotyping.

He circles around the back of the counter, always approaching differently than everyone else and grabs the 649 numbers along his way. I have to correct him when he calls me "Verna" as he walks up to the counter and asks for 5 packs of "Flat Touch toothpicks" in much the same manner as one might ask for a pack of "Export A lights". I check him in and he stuffs the toothpicks into his oversized coat pockets.

So I think, "Ok, guy is having a big party and his wife asked him to pick up toothpicks for millions of hors d'ouvres.". Nothing out of the ordinary.

And then a few days later Mr. Toothpick comes in again. He circles around the back of the counter again and grabs the 649 numbers again. "Good Morning, Verna" AGAIN and I correct him AGAIN. He grabs another 5 packs of toothpicks, only the "Flat Touch" brand, he doesn't like the round ones. They've gone up in price 6 cents a pack and he's wondering why and chats on about the rising costs of everything from furnace oil to cooking oil. His wife is with his this time and she has to practically beg him for permission to purchase a $2 scratch ticket. He buys them all the time. She must ask. Cheap and possessive. I wonder if dealing with money all of his days has made him like that.

(Sidenote: Tara, if that's the case about accountants, Jacques must GET OUT NOW before her turns into Mr. Toothpick! )

He leaves the store and I'm completely baffled. His toothpick buying routine continues on and on and I must finally ask, "OK, what's the deal-eo with Mr. Toothpick?"

Apparantly, Mr. Toothpick, in his younger years of accounting, sitting in his little office at his little brown desk like Ebenezer himself, smoked like a tilt. Those were the days when you could walk into a doctors office, principals office, or row 14C, and nearly die from smoke inhalation. Eventually, there came a time when smoking was prohibited in public offices and Mr. Toothpick wanted to quit. However, he found himself extremely agitated at not having something to keep the attention of his fingers (you'd think punching numbers might have occupied him enough). And he came up with the brainiac idea of cracking toothpicks all day long.

Yup, you read it right. Mr. Toothpick now sits at home in his easy chair, ashtray on the coffee table full of splinters, just crack-crack-crackin' away at tiny pieces of wood to feed his addiction. I kid you not, people!

I suppose it is healthier, albeit wildly eccentric.

I am now eagerly awaiting the day when I start selling "Mrs. Delmonte" a case of apple juice a day and indulge a recovering alcoholic.

Enlighten me with some crazy "addictions" you may have heard of...anything like this?

Denny Hater

Some of you have already heard me rant and rave about this before. Grey's Anatomy and the ghost-Denny storyline. Simply put, I hate it! I can't possibly think of any reason the writers would choose to go this route - are they desperate? Cause this is NOT the way to get viewers. As a current viewer, I am annoyed and just want it to be over so Izzy and Alex can go on their merry way.

Heaven help us
By Denette Wilford
2008-11-28
Denette's Digs: Whatever
… I’m just writing what you’re thinking
The George and Izzie debacle
(Gizzie … shudder) was the worst storyline in Grey’s Anatomy’s history … until
now.
Denny Duquette’s return from the dead to haunt/help/freak out Izzie for
some still-unknown reason is going to send the show spiralling down an
irreparable path.
Who we gonna call to rescue viewers from this horrible
story? Oh, if only it were that easy.
To see ghost-busting foursome Peter
Venkman, Ray Stantz, Egon Spengler and Winston Zeddemore arriving at Meredith’s
house in the Ecto-1 with their proton packs, busting into Izzie’s room and
capturing the ghost of Denny Duquette in that little holding box would make my
Thursday.
But since that’s obviously not going to happen, I have to count on
creator-executive producer Shonda Rhimes and crew to fix this story. Stat!
Because I never thought I’d say these words, but I HATE DENNY DUQUETTE.
There! I said it. Man, did that feel good to get off my chest.
But
before you start furiously typing your hate mail to me, let me go back and take
you all to a time, seemingly long ago, when Grey’s Anatomy was must-watch-TV.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m actually loving this season, despite the reviews
from critics and viewers who are hating so many aspects of it. I’m actually OK
with the departure of Erica Hahn (though not as OK with the firing of her
portrayer, Brooke Smith), because it leaves material for Sara Ramirez (Callie)
to attack.
And while I’m not sure where the show is heading with the dark
path that Lexie (Chyler Leigh) is speeding down, it does spin her away from that
good-girl-next-door image. I also love that Bailey (Chandra Wilson) is back in
fine, attitude-filled form.
And last but not least, I could not be more
ecstatic with new doctor, and Cristina’s (Sandra Oh) soon-to-be-love interest,
Owen Hunt (the awesome and swoon-inducing Kevin McKidd).
But let’s go back to
Jan. 15, 2006, that fateful day when we first met Denny Duquette. He was on the
National Donor List, awaiting a heart transplant. Things didn’t go according to
plan, but he did manage to get in some decent flirting time with then-intern
Izzie (Katherine Heigl).
Denny (played to adorable perfection by Jeffrey
Dean Morgan) was a delight, and just as Izzie fell for him, so did viewers. We
wanted Izzie to live happily ever after with him, and for Denny to sweep her off
her feet, away from Alex.
Fast-forward past the whole
LVAD-wire-cutting-situation, Denny proposing to Izzie, Izzie accepting, Denny
getting the heart, then Denny dying from a stroke shortly after, and it was Alex
(Justin Chambers) who was sweeping Izzie off her feet — literally — in that
heartbreaking scene that featured the gorgeous Heigl, all dressed up for the
makeshift prom, and Karev taking her away from her dead fiancé’s bedside.
Now
that’s what a show should be like, filled with a roller-coaster of emotions,
characters with rooting value, and stories that pack a barrage of punches. Not
this ghost nonsense.
Izzie is now having sex with dead people. Seriously.
And while only Izzie can see Denny, the rest of the doctors sure could hear the
loud sex-a-thon she and the ghost were having behind closed doors.
If Rhimes
and Co. were hoping this story would bring back fans of the show who loved it
back in its heyday but now just think it’s meh, well, they’re wrong. This
stupid, bizarro storyline could have worked if it were airing closer to when
Denny died, or it wouldn’t be so awful if it didn’t resemble the Demi
Moore/Patrick Swayze cheese-fest Ghost. I swear, if there’s a pottery wheel in
an upcoming episode, I am so done with this show.
Because this lame-o
attempt at reviving a once-popular character and story doesn’t work. This
plotline was played out exactly the same way on General Hospital last year, when
the dashing Nikolas Cassadine began seeing the oh-so-sweet but oh-so-dead love
of his life, Emily Quartermaine.
He questioned his sanity but it was later
revealed that she was a hallucination brought on by a brain tumour. Before he
was to have surgery to remove the tumour, the Cassadine prince shared one last
dance and a kiss with Emily and when he awoke, the tumour was gone … and so was
Emily. Is that what Grey’s has resorted to — copying a soap opera?
If this is
a total clone of the ABC soap, then a dying Izzie would eventually realize what
a good thing she has with Alex as he nursed her through her health crisis and
back to her feisty self.
However, Rhimes has insisted that this ghost story
would not involve a brain tumour, so the only explanation I can think of is that
Izzie is truly going insane. Seeing Heigl in a straitjacket is worth the cost of
my HD-PVR, just so long as Denny is vanquished and gone forever.
What are
your Izzie theories? Denny’s ghost: loving or hating it? denette@tvguide.ca

I am now just anxiously awaiting the next new show to see how this all plays out...but please, just make Denny grow angel wings and fly away to the afterlife already!