Awesomeness

Our Christmas Adventure in the ER

Okay, so here's the low down on what happened to me yesterday.  At some point during the early morning hours, in which I was laying in bed in a half-sleep because of insomnia based issues (so not really getting rest) I started getting chest pains.  This isn't something new per se, I've gotten chest pains since my late teens but usually it's one or two "stabs" and a possible ache for a bit then it's gone.  This time it continued for about a min. and while I was mildly concerned I wasn't overly so.


Fast forward to Christmas morning/afternoon around 3:00, and I get the same pains but this time my left arm starts to feel numb and weird.  The pains stopped after about a minute but the arm numbness continued for hours.  I could feel my heart beating too fast, and when I'd get up I'd get a head-rush and get dizzy.  I also started feeling nauseous about 20 mins after the pains had stopped.  I called the nurse hotline and they recommended I go right in.


Now, let me also add that the one time I ever went in for my chest pains in the past I had a doctor listen to my heart and proceed to tell me I have a heart murmur.  She told me it was nothing, but there was never any follow up done.  I have a tendency to get mad at doctors when they shrug me off so I tend not to go in very often.  Anyway, when you add that and the fact that my family has a history of heart disease, high blood pressure, heart attacks, strokes and issues with abnormal blood clotting... we figured it was better to be safe. Oh, and I've always had issues with "head-rushes", dizziness, loss of vision (sometimes just from standing up at a normal pace), bad circulation in my hands and feet, stuff like that.


So, St. Anthony's in Gig Harbor is stellar.  Seriously the best hospital in the area, at least where the ER is concerned.  We love them.  They took me right in got me all hooked up, ran an EKG, which was super interesting because they had to give me anti-arrhythmics to essentially "reset" my heart.  It was beating around 140 while I was doing nothing more than laying in a bed breathing slowly (it was running hot, a normal resting heart rate being around 60).  They had to do this twice because the first time dose was not enough, they had to increase it to get a proper read out.  My body just didn't want to slow down.  It went right back up.  So then they have me beta blockers which block the impulses that are telling the heart it needs to go fast.  Those worked at first but after an hour I was sitting back up around 90.  They gave me an oral dose that would last longer, and still even after all was said and done and we'd been cleared I still had to really focus on my breathing to keep me below 100.


By the way, those first meds, holy crap was that a weird feeling.  The pharmacist, who was a absolute doll, grabbed my read out and went over it with me showing me where, in his words, I'd almost flat-lined.  That's some creepy shit to hear.  The meds have to slow you almost to flat lining to work the best.  And they feel like you're on fire when it happens.  Like liquid fire is coursing through your veins.  It doesn't last long, but damn it's intense.  The beta blockers just make you feel... almost restricted.  Not in an uncomfortable way, but like you couldn't raise your pulse if you wanted to.


They ran the gamut of testing, everything came back good, although they're waiting on the thyroid tests.  We were there from about 7-10, which wasn't too bad.


All in all, I've learned that I need to slow the fuck down.  Not physically, in fact I need to kicked that up a notch (not like hardcore stuff, just activity in general), but stress wise.  I need to eat better, drink far less alcohol and far more water, cut back on sugar and over the counter meds.  I need to give my heart a break before something worse happens.  The Universe has spoken and I am taking heed.  It won't be hard to make my New Years resolution this year, and to stick to it.  I've got my ER bracelet on the fridge as a not so subtle reminder.

A Beary Good Toy

So, I'm a little torn over a recent purchase; part of my loves it and part of me feels a little guilty over it.  Why?  Well, it's a T.J. Bearytales toy, which if you're not acquainted with is a animatronic talking teddy bear that tells stories, sings songs and plays a few simple games.  He's pretty much rad.  I found in in good condition at a local thrift store and I Jude was so enthralled with it I had to buy it.  Besides which, it's a discontinued toy and as I discovered later is actually worth a bit, so double score.  Finding the cartridges for the stories is a little harder, but not much because without the bear they're not worth much, so people get rid of them decently cheap on-line.

Now, Jude will actually sit there and listen to him tell his story, and will talk to him, and sing along with him, which is great.  Having a three year old sit through a whole story is damn near amazing.  So on that note I feel great about the purchase.  It's not a game, it's not a DVD, he's not staring a screen, he's actively listening.  I love that.  And, I love to spoil my boy when I can.

The part that I dislike is that I feel like I'm pawning him off on the toy.  Not that I'm twiddling my thumbs while he's playing with it, I'm doing something productive like working on photos or cleaning, that sort of thing.  It's really nice to have him occupied for a bit because frankly my son is almost incapable of entertaining himself.  He's a very social creature, he likes to be engaged by people, although mostly adults.  So I rarely get to do anything for any stretch of time without a hundred interruptions.  I have to have a sitter over to play with him just to get homework done.  And on top of that he hasn't taken a nap in... well, since before summer.  Seriously, little man is paying me back for what I did to my mother, pretty sure.

So there you have it.  I don't feel guilty enough to take the toy away but... I'm going to feel a little pull every time he plays with it I think.

Christmas is Coming

I swear we had every intention of not spoiling Jude this year for Christmas.  We've kind of always liked to follow the 4 gift rule: one from Santa, one from us, jammies, and a book.  But this year that got away from us before we realized it.  I don't know how, or why, but little man has been well taken care of this year.

This means I have to buckle down and actually pass on some of his old toys.  This is difficult for two reasons.  One, he still plays with pretty much all of his toys.  We've always chosen wisely and bought toys that grow with him... so that makes the spring cleaning difficult.  Two, Jude is very good to his toys.  We've raised him with a strong belief that he needs to take care of his possessions or he doesn't get them.  And yes, I have thrown things away to punctuate this point.  Sometimes things just go in the closet for a stretch, if it's a matter of putting them away not them being broken.  This means he has toys that are two years old that are still in very good condition. It also helps that Jude isn't a brute by nature.

I also know to put toys up when other children come over.  There are only two kiddos I know can handle all of Jude's toys without hurting them, all the rest get a paired down version of his toy box.  Although that is a another reason I am hesitant to get rid of some of the older, younger, toys... we need them for the smaller ones that visit us.

All in all, I either need to do some serious rearranging and get some more storage for Jude's room or I'm going to have some tough decisions to make after this weekend.

Sweet Boy

I love hearing the stuff that comes out of my son's mouth.  Seriously, he's hilarious and cute and smart and his choices in speech crack me up.  For example, he tells me today, "We're not pirates, we are a family."  Just like that.  Just yesterday he says to me "I love you Mama, and I love Papa, and we are a family."  He's very focused on the family thing lately.

He has also taken to saying "I not like your options, Mama, I like my options,"  meaning he doesn't like the ones I'm giving him but rather the ones he has in mind.

He even told me I was a clever Mama the other day.  Clever.  How awesome is that?  He also never hesitates to offer praise in general.  I think that's important.

Oh, and he's such a sweet boy.  the other day when he saw his cousin upset over having to leave and go somewhere he didn't want to go (and was just bawling, poor thing) he kept saying "I not want him to leave.  He's upset.  I not want him to leave."  Simply because he saw how upset he was.  It held no bearing for him, we were headed out ourselves.  He just didn't want to see his cousin unhappy.

I truly hope these traits stick around as he grows up.

Yup

Might want to pay more attention to your own.  And I'm not being snarky, I actually mean that, because shit isn't right.

Bright Star

Oh my.  I'm sitting here, in a quiet apt, crying like a baby, at the simple joy of another's new life.  Some times it seems like mere seconds ago we welcomed our own little boy into this world, and at others it feels like forever...

It races by.

Times stands still.

You feel cheated.

You feel so blessed.

Parenthood is such a contradiction in terms.  It makes you feel capable of anything and yet horribly vulnerable at the same time.  It's a miracle and it's chemistry.  It's visceral and beautiful.  It's blood and it's guts and it's tears and it's the most wonderful, magical, all encompassing supper awesome fantastic... THING... ever.

You're rendered speechless but want to tell everyone you've ever met how much you love and cherish their life.  It's weird.

I love it.

To this day I can't imagine anything smelling better than my baby's head.  I can't imagine life without that smell.  It's instinctual.

Did you know that the only plea of insanity as a defense for a criminal act that will still hold up in court is the "mama bear" defense?  Think about that for a second.  Take it in.  Yup.  I believe it.

So random, I know, but I'm damn near delirious with exhaustion.

In summation.  The new life that has been welcomed into this world on Dec 4th 2011, by my (our) dear friends (I will omit names simply for politics sake) is blessed and is going to make life for his folks better, and harder, and more beautiful and imaginative, and exhausting and pleasurable, and messier and more solid, and mean more than anything else that has come before him.  Sebastien, you are already a bright star.

S*** My Kids Ruined

I would like to take a second to respond to the ideas presented in the comments on this article in which my son is featured (he was published in a coffee table book due to a funny photo I submitted).

Anyone that has ever had a child is aware that no matter how good of a parent you are, SHIT happens.  Period. No parent is perfect, sometimes we forget that we left the bathroom door open, or a marker down where our child can reach it, or got distracted by a phone call and left the laptop on the couch.  Children are magnets for disaster by their very nature.  They're curious, they're fearless, they're unaware of their limitations, they just don't know that much.  They learn primarily through exploration and sometimes that doesn't end well for your personal possessions, or your carpets, or their hair (I've known more than one kid that's tried to cut their own hair).  The reason this is funny, the reason the site and the book exist, is because 1) we all need to know that these things happen.  2) sometimes you HAVE to laugh in order not to want to beat the shit out of your kid!  Well, maybe not beat the shit out of them, but yell, or cry, or throw things.

My son is one of the most well behaved children I know.  You can ask anyone he comes into contact with.  He's polite, he's sweet, he's caring and thoughtful, he's smart and well spoken, he doesn't throw tantrums or bully other children, he's like a dream child.  But he's still just a kid, he's still going to do things wrong, and break things, and spill things and forget things, it's part of being young.  As parents our job is not necessarily to prevent all of that, it's to help them learn FROM it.  When negative behavior is repeated with no one addressing it, or with the child failing to respond to the lessons, then it's an issue.

As for documenting it, please, we, the general WE, document EVERYTHING these days.  It's the age of digital cameras, duh.  Besides which, you have to keep proof for when they're grown and have kids of their own ;)