I Issue You a Challenge...

Turns out I do not have gallstones. This is good news and bad news. The good news is, I don't have gallstones. The bad news is I still have a stomachache during my colicky hours. Because of Piglet and his weenie stomach, I have had to eliminate dairy (this includes my two favorites, cheese and sour cream), citrus, tomatoes, beans, cabbage, broccoli, spinach, asparagus, onions, garlic, and apples.

Because of my own stomach problems, I've had to eliminate high fat items because they seem to make it worse. I would love for you to give me ideas of things to eat. Thus far, I am subsisting on the following:

*cereal and soy milk (thank you to whomever it was who suggested vanilla soy for cereal way back when....it's really good!)
*chicken noodle soup
*toast and jelly
*frozen pretzels with mustard
*rice and [insert plain baked meat here]
*hamburgers with ketchup and mustard
*corn and carrots
*rice krispie treats and pop tarts
*waffles/pancakes
*scrambled eggs

I'm pretty tired of all the things listed above because I've been eating them for about a month now. I used to have a peanut butter option, but now it hurts my colic. So put on those thinking caps and hook me up, dear readers! I will entertain any suggestions. I really miss flavor. And cheese. Did I mention I can't eat cheese? It's killing me softly.

Dr. Bluetooth

I've expressed my distaste for the mighty mighty Bluetooth on here before. It drives me crazy when I think people are talking to me and they turn around and have that blasted dooflotchey attached to their ear and somehow I'm the one who feels stupid to have thought that someone might have been talking to me.

Eddie has also become rather enamored with the Bluetooth, proudly wearing hers around campus. This has changed our phone conversations in a couple of ways. One, when she sees someone she knows, she will suddenly engage in conversation with them while I'm chatting away because they can't tell she's on the phone and she doesn't want to be rude. The more difficult change is two, when her battery goes dead, she never realizes it and I can just hear her faintly shrieking, "Hello!? Hello?! OH! HANG ON!" as she scrambles for her old-fashioned and awkward handheld cell phone. What an archaic piece of trash, that lone Razr.

My opinion of this new age device took a sudden turn for the worse when I went for my 6 week follow up OB-GYN appointment and my doctor entered the exam room with one of those bloody things on his ear. Clad confidently in my "opens in the front, honey" paper gown, I jokingly said, "Important call?" thinking surely he was just wearing it around in case he got a call. There was a long silent pause. He held up his index finger, motioning me to wait and then he finished his phone call!! Gasp! I was appalled. If I have another baby while I'm living here, I'm going to a different doctor. Dr. Bluetooth has lost my business for good.

I'm Sorry I've Been Missing, But I Seem To Have Contracted Colic.

Yes, colic. For two weeks now, I've had bad tummy pains from mid-afternoon until bedtime. It's apparently my fussy time. I think that Piglet has reformed himself by giving me his colic. He is doing great - gaining weight, sleeping longer, smiling....me? Straight up colic. I went to the doctor yesterday and he said my mysterious malady might be gallstones, so today I had a sonogram. Tomorrow, I know more. Sheesh! Everytime I would've had time to write something on my blog, I became violently stricken by my creeping colic.

Piglet, in the meantime, has learned how to smile and is in the process of finding his hands. It's amazing to me how the simplest things are huge accomplishments in the life of a two month old. Everyone hopes that their child will be smart, but when I watch Piglet laugh in awe at the little fish hanging over his swing, I have to wonder. He will completely trip himself out staring at those fish, even though he just had a good laugh at them not ten minutes earlier. And the way he's sucking on his new found hand, he's liable to get a hickey before too long. That'll look foxy with his baby dandruff. The shampoo I bought for cradle cap lovingly describes the flakes as "scales". So I have a spastic wiggly baby with a hickey on his hand, scales on his head, and a bottomless appreciation for a stuffed fish. Go me.

I do hope you haven't all left me by now, and I promise to do better with more exciting tales from the Pig.

Wowza...

It's been almost a week since I posted. I am really falling down on the job! I know I'm too busy when my Word 'O the Day calendar is two days behind....this seriously bothers my OCD. Piglet has been very busy growing and overcoming his reflux issues, resulting in many feedings to compensate for resulting spit ups. He's finally almost back to birthweight seven weeks later. Phew! It's taken long enough. He's still got to pack on some more pounds.

Piglet's Aunt Katie came to visit this week and she got to experience his screaming, crying, puking, and pooping escapades that are really things you don't want to miss. She braved her way in anyway, even bringing him appropriate Piglet gear: (we dressed him in blue as to not make him too girly.) Do you think he'll need therapy or anything later on?

In other news, I'm going up to school tomorrow for the first time since I helped MAN set up his classroom. (Wonder if his calendar still says August?) I'm taking the Piglet up there to see what he's missing.

In big, big, exciting news, I got a 30% off doohickey at Kohl's in the mail and did some serious racking up on Christmas gifts the other day. I think that the kitchen section at Kohl's is seriously overlooked! They have great deals over there. Did you know they sell vacuums? My world was rocked, I tell you. Man, I have got to get a life back soon.

Coming soon: A post with substance. In the meantime, help me to feel not so lonely here in the blogosphere. I feel like everyone is quitting their blog lately.

It's All Worth It

So I'm really enjoying staying home with Little Piglet, especially now that we are able to get out and about in the world a little every day. But, I have to say that I do miss teaching and I am as surprised as the next person. Well, I guess I'm not surprised that I miss the actual teaching, but I'm surprised to find that I actually miss things about my old [crazy] school. I suppose it's mostly my friends and the parents that I liked, obviously not the administration. I'm planning to go back in January and do some tutoring, so that should be just enough to curb this urge.

It made me feel better today when my friend who is teaching the wild group that I complained about all last year sent me this letter and cracked me up:


Dear Parent(s) or Guardian(s):

Please be aware of our new school policy for your 5th grader(s), effective immediately:

When you drop off your child in the morning, or when she/he arrives on school property, you have surrendered all rights to question, campaign for her/his well-being or otherwise interfere in anyway with your child's instruction.

Daily regimen will include effective and appropriate discipline, as deemed necessary, including but not limited to biological, chemical and nuclear weapons testing (safety gloves and goggles will be provided as our supply allows).

Should your child die during the day, every effort will be made to contact you to retrieve the body. Should this fail, the body will be made available on the South driveway between 3:30 and 4:30 p.m. We cannot be responsible for bodies left after 4:30. Teachers are often involved in tutoring, meetings, training or other required school activities well beyond that time and cannot be responsible for unresponsive students. A detailed report of the student's demise will be mailed to you along with a $10 off coupon for the Funeral Home. This report will be considered "final."

Should you have any questions, you have probably not read this notice thoroughly. It contains everything you need to know and you are advised to read it again.

Thank you,
The Fifth Grade Faculty

Boy, do I know how they feel. That letter says it all and brought it all back.

Dork

Thought: I feel like the biggest dork if I wear a shirt to the store where I bought it. Why is that? Why should it matter? I went to Old Navy today and had to compulsively scour my closet for something to wear that was not from there.

Also? I'm mortified if I accidentally wear a red shirt to Target because someone might mistake me for a Target team member.

I have a problem.

Crazed Love Songs

Upon becoming a mom, I've realized that I don't know the words to any of the lullabyes. Here's what I sing to Piglet at naptime: (I start out okay.)

Hush little baby, don't say a word.
Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird.
If that mockingbird don't sing,
Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring.
If that diamond ring turns to brass,
Mama's gonna buy you a looking glass.
If that looking glass don't shine,
Mama's gonna buy her a bottle of wine.
If that bottle of wine's gone bad,
Mama'll get a toad on a lilypad.
If that little toad won't play,
Mama's gonna buy her a long spa day.
If that spa day's not enough,
Mama's just gonna have to get tough....

Et cetera. How does the song become entirely about me and my state of mind? He seems to still enjoy it. It does not have the desired effect of putting him to sleep, but that is more likely related to my singing skills than my lyrics. I've got to get a baby book of songs, stat.

Have your cake and eat it too.

Argh. I have been a terrible blogger lately. The laundry monster has taken over my life. And the nap monster - naps have become more important in my free time somehow. Who knew? I will be done with this bridal shower after Saturday and that will be a load off. I went Sunday to try to buy my cake. I made the mistake of going to Kroger. It went a little something like this:

Walked up to counter. Stood for many minutes trying to be painfully obvious that I wanted to purchase a cake by looking through the binder of their cakes choices. Apparently, there were many choices for kids' cakes, and one wedding-ish cake. It was ugly. Surely they could do more than that. I cleared my throat politely for the third time before a woman looked up, sighed and shuffled my way. I sensed trouble when I took in her hairnet and her 80's glasses with the sides that scoop down and back up. I realize I judge people by their appearances, but you know what? I'm often right.

Hairnet: [Stares at me from behind large glasses. One eye looked at me, the other looked eastward]

Me: Hi! I'd like to order a cake for a bridal shower please.

Hairnet: {more staring]

Me: Um, what do I need to do?

Hairnet: When's it for?

Me: Saturday

Hairnet: You can either order it now or wait a few days.

Me: [um. duh....] Today would be great, thanks.

Hairnet: I need size, flavor, and icing type.

Me: Um....can we talk about what it will look like? All I can find it this picture.

Hairnet: That's the one we make.

Me: Can I make some adjustments?

Hairnet: [Obviously exasperated with me calls over the woman in charge. She doesn't speak English.]

Non-English Speaker: You wah cack?

Me: Yes, can you make bells with icing?

NES: We got bells! [waves cheapo plastic bells with gold sparkles at me]

Me: Um, nevermind. [slink away]

Why is it so hard to have a bakery in a grocery store that makes cake to order? If they can make all those stupid soccer ball, Barney, Barbie cakes, surely they could whip up some bells. But, no, no. Pbbbbt. And there are apparently not any bakeries left in my town. I called one number only to get an NES man on the line who just yelled "No cake!!" into the phone. I guess he got the bakery's old number. Poor guy.

Now I've contacted an old parent (not an old parent, a former parent from school) who bakes cakes professionally to see if she can whip one up for me by Saturday. Fingers crossed.

No time to post, but...