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Congratulations to That Chick Over There's blog for being nominated for a Blogger's Choice Award! ("Hottest Mommy Blogger")
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Julie Update & "Know your s--t".

Julie had her blood work done yesterday and the results were:
no change



Her red blood cell count is still 13 and there is no evidence that her RBCs are regenerating. Since she is eating, drinking and eliminating well [← euphemism alert!], the doctors recommended we take her home, continue her bland diet and cocktail of medicines, and bring her back in three days for another blood test.

Every situation has a lighter side, and I was amused when the doctor sent home a fecal scoring (a.k.a. poop) chart to help us more accurately report Julie's eliminations to the doctor.

Mr. Ridiculous has dubbed the photocopied chart the CRAPCON scale and posted it proudly by the back door. It was too fuzzy to post (you didn't REALLY want to see it anyway) so for any hardcore crapheads I offer up instead this link to "the best poo story ever."

If you clicked on the link above, it took you to a website called (I'm not kidding about this.) poopreport.com. It just goes to show (yet again) that there really are No Boundaries on the Internet. What intrigued and repulsed me about poopreport.com (enough to write about it) was that they named their marketplace "buttplugs." Eww.

One last bit of randomness. Since I used a euphemism I felt it only fair to include a perplexing (but I can't look away) Euphemism Generator Let me know if the euphemisms make sense to you.

Bringing Julie home

We just checked on Julie's condition and there is no significant change. So I will recap what we know so far.

Julie is being treated for Immune Mediated Hemolytic Anemia - her immune system is attacking (prematurely destroying) her red blood cells faster than her bone marrow can produce new cells. Red blood cells carry oxygen from the lungs to all other tissues in the body, so Julie's body is starving for oxygen.

So far tests have revealed no underlying cause for Julie's body to be attacking its own red blood cells. But since there has been no sign of her bone marrow kicking in to generate new red blood cells since her transfusion and drug treatments, the doctors are recommending sending her to a specialist for a sonogram (for a closer look at her organs -- maybe there is cancer lurking somewhere that the x-rays couldn't detect) and a bone marrow test. Both of these tests are expensive and won't necessarily get us the answers we need.

We've made the extremely painful decision to bring Julie home, even though her condition has not been stabilized. We would like to continue giving her fluids and immuno-suppressant medicines through the weekend in the hope that her bone marrow may still kick in and start generating new red blood cells to replace the destroyed ones. But if she doesn't respond to this treatment we will have to make the painful decision to put her to sleep.

Words fail me to adequately express how bereft I am (we all are) about our dear, sweet Julie. She's only 5 1/2 years old. She's only lived half her life. She's not in any pain, but severely fatigued, dazed and confused. She's one of my babies and she's probably not going to survive more than a few weeks. She wants to come home, so we're bringing her home.

This is immensely hard for me. Emotionally. I don't want her to die. I don't want to see her die. There is nothing I can do to help her except make her feel comfortable and loved.

People have said to me that I am obsessively devoted to my pets. To me they are my children. (They were my children before I had children, which is not so uncommon.) They've said that once I have children of my own I will view my pets differently. I can categorically say, without a shadow of a doubt, that I do not feel differently about my pets. I still love them with my whole heart. (Well, maybe not so much the Molly fish in the fishtank. But I digress.)

They ARE my children.

"Welcome to Married Life," Part 1

As a kid I used to laugh about the expression, "Stop the world! I want to get off!" It just sounded absurd. But it sums up nicely how I feel about the emotional rollercoaster of my life this week.

OK, it also sums up how I feel about married life in general.

But before I start sucking lemons, there is one bright spot:

The Good News - First Tooth
What's this? Yessirree, a tiny, white tooth is beginning to poke through Bruce's lower gumline. Hurray! And whew, finally. Bruce's first little nipper is located in the lower front. He's having quite a fun time trying it out, even though it has barely risen more than a millimeter or two into view. And he is wasting no time learning to "take bites."

Now it's just a waiting game for the other 19 baby whites to appear.

The Bad News - A Gravely Ill Pet
Three days ago we noticed a startling change in our dear, sweet dog Julie. She had been lounging in the bed pretty much all day (which isn't all that unusual, since it is her absolute fav-o-rite place to be) and we had a hard time coaxing her downstairs. We called her down for supper and when she finally managed to descend the stairs she was very unsteady on her feet and looked dazed.

I rushed her to the vet to find that she was acutely anemic. The underside of her ears and her gums were a deathly white. How could I not have noticed that before? They took some blood for a sample and ran x-rays and advised us to rush her over to an emergency care clinic for a life-saving transfusion.

MORE TO COME

Yesterday Bruce had his 11th month-iversary. Only 29 days and counting until his first birthday!

With Julie's condition playing heavily into our daily routines, I've scrapped all brainstorming for party themes. We'll invite friends and family over to have cake, celebrate and of course take lots of pictures.

"These are the times that try men's souls."

Thomas Paine had no idea how well his words would apply to my life today. If only Pampers really did come with a poo gauge!


I know that diapers, particularly the extremely objectionable ones, are a topic that most folks prefer NOT to hear about. But since this is what I've spent my day dealing with, one disgusting diaper change after another, I've decided to share this joy with the blogosphere. Thank me now for not including actual photos.

Here is a link to another blog that uses baby diapers to describe the local air quality in their little corner of the world: Project M

Rotting catfish would smell sweet compared to the four (and counting) freakish desecrations of decency I have changed today.

What makes it all the more trying is that I am coming down with the latest plague that is circulating up and down the eastern seaboard. Everyone I have talked to has this same bug. My husband came down with it around Christmas Eve. Bruce caught it from him. And I've been fighting to stave it off, but today had my first really sore throat and low energy day.

We moms (wow, did I type that?) know that when we get sick the kids still need to be fed, changed, carted around and picked up after. A clingy, teething, sick kid's diarhea diapers were just too much for me to handle today. Oh, and so far still no tooth!

11:00 p.m. update: Still no tooth. And about an hour ago Bruce's breathing became so labored that he actually couldn't catch his breath. It was frightening! We rushed him into the bathroom and threw the shower into highest steam mode. And sat, stood, anything we could to keep him occupied while he breathed in the steam. It took the better part of a half hour before his airway loosened up enough for him to cough. So Bruce will be sleeping in mommy's arms tonight so she can monitor his breathing up close and personal.

New Year, New Word!

New Year's Day was eventful chez Bruce because he said a new word.
**Drum roll, please**

Baby!

That's right, he said "baby." We've been told the "b" words come first, so once again my brilliant Bruce is following the baby development playbook like a champ. Way to go, little man o' mine!

Baby Signs at Last!

Bruce gave us a great gift this Christmas! He started using baby signs.

We started teaching him baby signs when he was 5 1/2 months old to give him a way to communicate without whining or crying. Not surprisingly, his first sign is "milk," but now that we've caught on to him actually using them, we're noticing more signs, like "all done," and "down."

And we have noticed that he is more eager to use baby signs now that mommy and daddy actually understand what he's trying to tell us.

Sweet baby, Sleep.

Bruce fell asleep on his Gir-cow* the other day, providing me the perfect opportunity to snap a shot of him in a Santa hat. Isn't he adorable? It's such a peaceful, still moment.

Even such angelic stillness has it's amusing side. The photo below cracks me up. It's my budgie-boy, lying all-catawampus!
Hushed moments like these don't go by without saying, "Awwww!"

Bruce's sprawling slumber reminds me of a stanza from a Christmas poem written by George Wither. The poem is called "Wither's Rocking Hymn" and I include only the part that jumps to mind:

Sweet baby, sleep, and nothing fear, for ...
[several lines have been excluded]
Be still my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

The full poem may be viewed here.
____________________________________________________
* Gir-cow - a cozy, plush mat that looks like a cross between a giraffe and a cow.

My Shining Star is 10 Months Old

Wow, two days ago Bruce turned 10 months old. It has been more difficult to get good snapshots of the little tike in all the holiday bustle, but here is a recent one of him in his new hand-knit sweater from Grandma (who we lovingly call Mère-Mère). Those adorable little star buttons make me want to just squeeze and smooch him! You'll notice that he is still orange -- not unlike the planet Mars or maybe even Alpha Centauri. A slightly orange star, but a star nonetheless.

You'd think as congenial as he normally is, Bruce wouldn't have chosen to outgrow his third nap right in the middle of the holiday rush. (He's never been a long napper. In fact, I call him the "King of the 30-minute nap.") But even three, short, 30-minute breaks are better than nothing when you're desperately trying to keep your sanity (sense of humor?) while keeping your house in order, cook meals, walk dogs, and attend to any outdoor chores or errands that need to be done. All you moms out there, let me hear you say,
"Yeah! You got that right!"

Interjecting a small tangent into this tapestry of late-night thoughts -- I watched a movie today (Thank you, Mr. TiVo Inventor-guy!) called The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio starring Juliann Moore. It was quite a good "strong-woman movie" and offers new stay-at-home moms a bittersweet perspective on what life was like in the 1950s. Based upon a true story (taken from Terry Ryan's memoir of the same name) it is a tale of a 50's mom who excels at writing prize-winning ad jingles. 'Nuf said. If you have seen or set your TiVo so that you will see it, drop me a line and tell me what you thought of the movie. I now return you to my regularly scheduled train of thought...

For some unfathomable reason, Bruce wakes up around 1:00 a.m. bright-eyed and ready to play for three hours. Augh! It's more exhausting than his two-hour feedings were when he was a newborn. So, I've been playing around with his nap schedule, trying to find a balance that lengthens his two surviving naps (morning and afternoon) and encourages him to sleep through the night. No, let me rephrase that last bit slightly. By "encouraging" I mean that I've started teaching him to learn to go to sleep by himself without nursing if he wakes up in the middle of the night. It has been exhausting, those nights when he's awake for that "oh-dark-thirty" three-hour stretch. I'll write more on that later...

I better get to bed, in case tonight is another marathon "oh-dark-thirty" night.

First Snow and Speeding Toward Christmas

Earlier this week we had our first snow and it was glorious! What made it all the more enjoyable is that it lasted a whole day before melting off. Normally the first snow of the season melts almost as soon as it hits the ground. The most anyone can do is gaze at it from a cozy window and be grateful for the brief pause it brings to our hectic lives. That, and be relieved that we don't need to break out the snow shovel quite yet. The only breaking out that was done at my house was to break out mugs to enjoy a steaming cup of homemade cocoa. And isn't that a fine way to usher in the snowy season?

Since Bruce isn't allowed chocolate, we introduced him to snow by giving him a snowball to play with in his high chair. Here is a photo.
Is it just me, or does it seem absolutely impossible that we are already hip-deep in "holiday bustle?"

I got my first Christmas card in the mail today -- isn't it great? I can't tell you how much I look forward to receiving personalized notes from family and friends. Yes, in this age of Internet instant-eity, quaint ol' Christmas cards still float my boat. (Even if they are becoming outmoded.) I don't care.

And just to demonstrate my Internet savvy, here are a few amusing links on the topic of Christmas cards. It took me all of 3 seconds to find them. Thanks, Google!

Christmas Cards Make a Comeback
Interestingly enough, this news article for the Trinidad and Tobago Express suggests that Christmas cards are making a comeback, while this snow-bound Scrooge holds a hilariously more humbug-ish view. (If the links are broken, email me and I will send you print versions.)

A Scottish news woman writes of forgoing all the giving in favor of a "Do It For Yourself" Christmas. Isn't it curious how the festive spirit falls flat in the face of a wind chill factor?