What do you get when you cross an elephant with a rhino?

‘Ell if I know. . .

heh.

Made one for Jonas, so of course I had to keep thing even and make Maggie a little notebook too. Except, I’ve kind of got a thing for that Jack’s World Elephant that Cosmo Cricket designed. . .so I might have to make Maggie another one and keep this one for myself. I LOVE the Jack’s World rubons because they include this alphabet, and it is just the right size for so much.

To get that stitched look on the blackboard just use a good white pen. I use mostly real stitching on the notebook, particularily where I wanted the ribbon to be flat under the distressed edge. You can stitch through chipboard, and I have done it, but pen is so much easier and there is no risk of a needle snapping off of your machine and lodging itself in your brain. I always worry that might happen. Neurotic? Yes.

Lately I’m a lot less neurotic and more just honestly bored. You see, as much fun as being sick is, it doesn’t lend itself to fun and games or getting up and doing much of anything. I am not a person who can be a TV vegetable for more than a few days before I can’t take it any longer. I need people and activity.

It was a pretty rough week; lots of throwing up and dehydration. The best part of the week was on Friday when a friend I met on the Hyperemesis Gravidarum website came to visit. She is a few months farther along than me pregnancy-wise, so even though she has HG, she is somewhat more functional at this point. She came, played with my kids, chatted with me, and . . .get this. . .brought the lady who cleans her house to clean mine!

I know. Totally amazing. She dug out my laundry room, and I have a floor again! I had forgotten what it was like to walk and not stick to the floor. Also, I threw up several times during the visit ( I know, what a hostess) and the toilet WAS SO CLEAN! It was such a pleasure to puke in a sparkling toilet. I rested my sweaty, tear-stained face on the cool side after losing my lunch and thought, “ahhhh this is the life. . .a clean toilet, thank you, toilet bowl, for being so cool and comforting on the side.” (Name the comedian that thought paid homage to, and you can have a cookie).

Although the cleanliness was amazing, it wasn’t the best thing about the visit. This is the first time I have met someone in person who has HG. Finding someone who got me and what I was going through so completely was so refreshing. I am so used to having to explain and explain, only to have people say things like, “oh, yeah, I felt pretty bad the first few weeks too”, is draining. HG is one of those things that you kind of have to live, or watch someone close to you live before you get that it isn’t “a little nauseated” or “taking advantage of morning sickness”. Having someone who you don’t have to explain and justify yourself to, and who understands when you need a thumbs up for the fact that you accomplished both a shower and clean clothes today, and yes that’s it, well, it is something to be thankful for.

It has been a lonely couple of months, and without a lot of support. Friday was such a blessing, even if I did throw up so many times I lost count.

I’ve been loving the Clorox Greenworks cleaners, and they just came out with a green dishsoap! These products work great, but without the harsh chemicals becausethey use plant based ingredients to get results! I’ve been happy with it because my allergies haven’t freaked out over any chemicals, and I like the scent. It is mild and not overpowering, but still clean and fresh.

Had to let you guys know that I give it a good review!

More Cosmo Cricket Hugs!

Sunday was bad. Sunday, I was an overly emotional wreck. Sunday, I vomited and then I cried. And then I started crying so hard I vomited. And then I threw up a few more times for good measure and sobbed as the pregnancy hormones ran smack dab into dehydration and HOLY CATS I WAS A MESS!

So I posted about my sad, sad state on the Hyperemesis Gravidarum website, and although they all totally got where I was coming from, a few said, “Honey, you sound really dry. . .time for IV fluids.” And I said, “but. . .but. . .I kept down water today! I can still see my veins. . .well, kinda”. And then I got a migraine and as the night progressed I went from pathetic to miserable to too dizzy to drive myself to the ER.

Chris drove, and it was a good thing I at least had the sense to let him do that because I passed out half way into the ER and he carried me into the waiting room and got me all squared away. Turns out I was dehydrated. Not that I haven’t been more dehydrated, but I really needed some fluids. The trouble was I just could not stop vomiting, even after giving me two doses of Zofran, which is usually my miracle drug. The doctor wanted to give me Phenergan right off the bat, and I resisted. The Zofran has always worked better, and Phenergan really messes me over.

About the third time I was heaving the lining of my stomach into a bag he walked by and said, “Can I please give you some Phenergan?”

And I said, “ANYTHING!” And then I asked for morphine, which he was actually willing to give me, but I figured that would probably put me completely out of reality for much longer than that was healthy, given my usual reaction to narcotics. Turns out I didn’t need narcotics to get totally snookered.

They put A LOT of Phenergan in my IV, and true to fashion, it BURNED. And then the room went fuzzy. And then I felt myself fall backward on the pillow and succumb to a somewhat passed out version of slumber, punctuated every few seconds by my legs jumping uncontrollably.

It was at this point that the people in the ER decided to try to talk to me. Now, I know what I was saying, but I’m guessing that I was slurring the consonants right out of my vocabulary because they made me repeat everything at least four times.

“Ahhhhmtrdcnigrrrrhmmmmm?”

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

“Ahhhhmmm trrd. Cnnn ahh goo hmm?”

“Could you repeat that please?”

“Ahm trrrrrd. Caaaaan ahhh go hommmmm?”

“Not until the doctor discharges you.”

“fnnnnnnnnn.”

A few minutes later (ok, honestly it could have been hours. I have no idea.) the tech tells me that I can go home just as soon as I can walk around the ER and not pass out. I’m sure I replied with something unintelligible, but I was thinking, “Seriously? You want me to walk? Do you have any idea how doped up I am?” However, I really wanted to go home. I was so thrashed that all I could think about was my bed. So I rolled myself off the gurney with a blankie wrapped around my shoulders and began to hobble around the ER.

The tech stays very close, and I notice that everyone in the ER is watching me, including the old man in the bed next to me and the patient at the end of the hall. Then I realize why.

I am not walking forward. I am walking two steps sideways, one step forward, half step to the left, sway back on my heels, repeat! It hits me that for all intents and purposes, I am drunk. Very, very, about to pass out in the gutter drunk. It takes awhile, but I am determined and manage to get back to where I started. I can walk. Sort of. They discharge me.

Chris takes me home. Not only is it nearly one am, but I am still barely able to communicate. I attempt to convey my garbled thanks, and then pass out as soon as I hit the sheets.

A little cheer you up card I made with some Cosmo Cricket’s “Jack’s World”. I just love that giraffe.

I used a white pen on the chipboard to make a faux stiched look. The card says, “hug me”, which I’m feeling right now. Hugs!

(Altered Back to School notebook- Cosmo Cricket’s “Jack’s World” collection.)

Yesterday was the first day of school. We decided to send Jonas back for a variety of reasons, one of the most important being that I’m too sick to keep up with him, let alone wrangle him into some education. Others include the fact that since I’m so sick, Jonas has decided to pretend that I don’t actually talk, and so when I do tell him to do something I may as well be talking to a brick wall.

School scares me. As much as I love the break, last year was a very, very bad experience. We had so many notes, phone calls and runs ins with the administration that it was less work to have him at home. Jonas’ little psyche got damaged and much of what he actually learned and retained, he did because of my teaching him at home. At the end of the year I removed him from school and home schooled for the last six weeks. It went alright, some days better than others, and we both had a pretty good time. I learned to let him lead, and also that he now associated learning with the abject misery and humiliation of school. Because of this, I backed off considerably on everything except snuggly reading time, and only did math a few times a week when he asked to play flash cards.

Now, Jonas does need to learn some good citizenship skills in the classroom. Handling himself in a group is a life skill that he needs, and not one that I can provide very well at home. However, he needs to learn this without the accompanying message of “I’m a total loser”. I honestly don’t care if he needs to repeat the first grade academically, but I want him to know that he can handle himself in a school situation and enjoy the process. I plan to continue to work with him at home on the homework, but also on reading and finding opportunities for learning that aren’t so cookie cutter. I want him to learn, but keep his spark about it as well.

After much consideration, I enrolled him in school again, but I enrolled him in a different school. I’m already much happier with it. I wrote the teacher a two page letter explaining how Jonas works and how much he wants to succeed. I was very impressed with her at orientation, and love her positive rewards plan for dealing with not just my challenged child- but with every child in the class. Jonas came home from this and very excitedly told his grandmother about the blue reward tickets and prizes, then he said, “that’s going to be really hard for me.” Just about broke my heart.

I don’t ever remember consciously worrying about my behavior as a child. I remember other stresses, like wondering if I would ever figure out reading or hoping my teacher liked me, but never did I walk into a situation looking at myself, knowing that I was going to have to work twice as hard to succeed as everyone else. Little kids should think they can do anything they try; that’s part of the innocence of childhood. Everybody can sing, dance, paint and be a friend at six. Losing that is the saddest step toward adulthood.

The good news is that Jonas has made it through two days of school with no incidents, and he got a blue ticket and a good citizenship paper today! For him, that is huge. It feels good to get off to a good start.

The first day he came home happy, and then promptly fell apart and slept from about 4pm to the next morning, getting up only to use the bathroom and switch beds. I did remarkably well getting up at 6:30 in the morning, and getting us all out the door and through the first day paperwork. Then I felt so jazzed I called a friend and went to lunch. I picked Jonas up after school and then developed a lovely migraine.

This morning it took everything I had to get out of bed, brush my teeth and get him to the school. I then came home and slept for several hours listening to Maggie watch television. I have accomplished almost nothing today. Very clearly, I overdid it. The good thing is, come next week I can just drop him off at the school curb, so it won’t be such an effort, and I’ll try to be smarter about not running around just because I’m having a good day. Right now, I just have to go back to bed.

Used some Cosmo Cricket’s Jack’s World on this one, and Fleurist blackboard.

Ok, here is what the hair looks like now, when it is all curled and cute for church. Keep in mind that this is not a daily thing. When I get a picture of how it looks straight- I’ll post that so you can see the difference.

I know, she’s a cute little cuss either way. I’ll get over it. . .before she leaves for college.

If ever a paper line looked wistful, it would have to be the Cosmo Cricket Fleurist line. I have actually been able to scrap a little lately- so this blog will go back to having regular projects starting. . .NOW. Woo-hoo! Scrapbooking! Card making!

I have not posted, I know. It is because I have just not been feeling very well, and when you look at all of your posts for the past month and every single post is about how you don’t feel good. . .whine, whine, whine, moan, moan, moan. . .you hit a point where you’re just sick of hearing yourself complain. Now, I could sally forth with the vomit stories and the “my life is now out of control and I hate it” diatribes, but seriously. One can only wax poetic about puke for so long before it just gets dull.

So I stopped. During my non posting days I watched the house grow dust bunnies and my children construct skyscraper like piles of garbage that reach to the ceiling of my home like triumphant effigies of my former control. One morning I laid in bed, very sick and listened to my son explain to my daughter that if they could just get the stove to light they could stick these sticks and grass in there and then bring them outside and have a camp fire in the backyard. I immediately called a friend and had her take the kids. Parenting while sick is one trick, parenting pyromaniacs while stuck in bed is just plain foolish.

The worst day was the day Maggie found scissors and decided to cut her own hair. Her hair was nearly waist long, very blonde from the baby tresses and summer sun, and now it is styled into a shoulder length shag because it was the only way to keep any length at all and hide all of the crazy layers. It is a foot shorter now, and the baby blonde all had to go so instead of white-blonde streaked golden hair, what is left is the color of wheatfields at harvest, which is lovely, but a change. This day I cried for an hour, and they were not little sniffles, they were deep, gut wrenching sobs for the lost hair and for the life I used to have some control over.

Now, I know perfectly well that Maggie is three and that three year olds are notorious for giving themselves home haircuts (Jonas being case in point! TWICE.), and that even the parents who are chic and anal and perfect end up with very butch looking preschoolers. However, at the time, it really just felt like one more thing that was slipping through the cracks. I was far too ill to take Maggie to the salon to fix it, so I called a good friend who not only took her in for her haircut, but who brought with her a family portrait in which her daughter, at Maggie’s age, had cut her hair so short she had needed to buzz all of her hair off to fix it. In the photo she is the only girl in a family of four buzz cut boys, and they sent them out with Christmas cards and said, “Spot the girl!” Humor fixes a lot, and clearly, I called the right friend.

Since then, I have gotten mostly over it, at least over it enough that you can expect to see a layout about it very soon.

Aside from the hair, I’m just moping. I vacillate between wanting to kick someone and walking by my gas oven and contemplating Sylvia Plath. Somewhere in between I’m ok. I’m seriously considering having my tubes tied after this one, or maybe even just having the whole uterus removed, as it is a pain in the butt body part anyway. I’m watching a lot of TV, because when I lose myself in episode after episode of Heros I can stop thinking about everything, and not thinking? I really enjoy the vacation.

I grew up in a family were we spent hours connecting over various board games and card games. Chris and I play with the kids as well. I was asked to review some new games out by Hasbro called “Noodleboro”. There are a few different games and the one we got is the Pizza Palace learning to listen game. It is hard to find games that younger children can enjoy. This one was easy to learn, and the kids did have to listen fast to make sure they put the right toppings on the pizza. The kids loved putting toppings like stinky socks and old boots on the pizza, as well as the more traditional pepperoni and mushroom.

The thing I really liked about the set was that it came with a DVD and read a long book that told the story of Noodleboro and their pizza place. It had some catchy songs that both kids picked up quickly, and kept them entertained.

You can see all Noodleboro games here.