Thumbs Down

Because some people do not enjoy reading about dumb ways I injure myself, I'm going to present this post in bullet points. It'll be like a Choose Your Own Adventure story, where if you are like my friend Kristin and you're absolutely terrified by sharp objects, you probably don't want to read this post. Instead, I'll suggest that you adventure over to Design Mom's site, where you can read an edited version of Tommy's birth story and reminisce about how my last medical mishap had a much happier ending.

For everyone else, journey on:

• Luke slept in Wed morning, and I thought, "Should I have another cup of coffee or should I bake?" I chose baking. BAD IDEA.
• I very successfully made a beautiful pie crust, and then moved on to cutting apples. I came across a Pampered Chef Apple Wedger which Shane had never even opened.
  
• I wedge one apple and also when they say it's an ingenious tool, they mean, WILL MAIM YOU, as I cut my thumb along with the apple.
  
• It's such a sharp blade that the cut doesn't actually hurt. At first, I think,oh, that's not too bad, then realize a flap of skin is hanging off of my thumb and it's bleeding rather profusely.
• RUH ROH
• I grab paper towel and apply pressure, then call my mom who says she will come over and take me to urgent care
• While waiting and bleeding everywhere, I email Beth, Steph, and Sarah and ask them to please keep emailing me so that I do not FREAK OUT.
  
• I grab one of Julie's cloth napkins because the paper towel is soaked with blood and wonder if I should remove the paper towel. My mom who is very squeamish yells at me for even considering removing it.
• My mom got to my house even faster than the night Tommy was born. I must've sounded much more anxious on the phone, though my dad claims that the night Tommy was born, she was driving too slow even though he told her to hurry.
  
• The lovely people at urgent care first refuse to treat me, even though my hand is covered in blood because I do not have a photo ID on me. They make me go upstairs to the clinic where I've gone before, and thankfully, they have a photo copy of my license. Oddly, while they refuse to treat me in urgent care without a photo ID, upstairs they have no problem handing me a photocopy of my license and my insurance card with my SS# written across the top. It's a good thing I'm me and not just someone who looks remotely like me.
  
• meanwhile I am still dripping blood.
• They check me in and go through my file, asking rather inane questions like, "You have no religion listed, would you like to update that?" and then say they can't see me without a $40 copay.
  
• My mom pays it, while snarkily saying, "Do you need to see MY ID?"
• The woman says, Oh no, we let anyone pay us! I consider punching her in the face, but I know she is just doing her job, and also, my hand hurts.
  
• Meanwhile I am wondering how many H1N1 germs Luke and Tommy are inhaling
• We sit in the waiting room for 30 minutes. At one point, I start to cry.
• Then I get this email from a friend about the ID issue:
  "So, if you were in a car accident and your car started on fire and you were burned over 50% of your body and your driver's license started on fire they'd be like "SORRY, BITCH." We can't treat you.
  I ain't never seen them ask for an id on ER or Grey's. SHIT."
• After reading it, I start laughing but then think that if I'm laughing, they might think my thumb is okay and make me wait longer, so I loudly say OUCH MY THUMB, and hope they'll think I'm delirious. There is no one else in the waiting room, thankfully.
  
• Finally, they call me back. First they ask me fun questions like, "Do you have a family history of diabetes?" and "When was your last period?" I'm starting to get histrionic and am thinking things like, "I AM GOING TO HAVE TO WALK AROUND WITH A HOLE IN MY THUMB FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE BECAUSE I CAN'T REMEMBER WHEN MY LAST PERIOD WAS, OH GOD WHY MEEEEEEEE."
• The nurse takes off the cloth napkin, then starts to rip away the paper towel while I am all OW OW CHUNK OF SKIN.
• They remove the paper towel and say, Oh, wow. Because they thought I was a big fat liar when I first walked in covered in blood.
  
• I am bleeding everywhere, like more than I ever thought possible.
• No one asks me if this makes me woozy. It doesn't, but a lot of people are freaked by blood so it amazed me that they were like, here, apply pressure, and just left me alone for large blocks of time.
• the Dr finally comes in and gives me a ring block of shots, in which they ring your thumb with numbing shots. Shots in your thumb hurt, but not as bad as having a baby. I tell him this and he hits me in the arm that is attached to my busted thumb and laughs. I like him. He also asks if the blood makes me feel faint. Two points for the doctor!
  
• The nurse comes in and irrigates it with saline. She uses an entire bottle and it is still bleeding heavily. She then gives me more gauze, says apply pressure and leaves.
• First I take a picture because I know I will want to harass Shane with it later.
  
• I wait for a very long time, still thinking about H1N1 germs and how Luke and Tommy are probably hungry and how I left the house wearing this because I couldn't figure out how to change clothes while keeping pressure on my thumb:
  
  But at least I wasn't naked for THIS medical mishap.
  
• the Dr comes back in, removes the gauze and says, Wasn't there skin attached? I look at a large, gaping hole in my thumb, look at the gauze and say, Oh. It came off. It's right there.
  
• He laughs and says, sweetie, you aren't getting stitches today. I consider asking if I can keep the piece of my thumb just to be a weirdo, but I don't.
  
• Then he leaves, and while I wait a million minutes for the nurse to return, I wrap my thumb piece up in the gauze so it can have a proper funeral shroud.
  
• She puts this foam gel stuff in the wound which should help it, but I'm still bleeding profusely. She removes and replaces gauze three times because I keep bleeding before another nurse comes in with super clotting powder. The nurses and I discuss all the various things I can make Shane do for me since he will be, quite literally, under my thumb.
  
• I leave and Luke is disappointed that the doctor did not give me a sucker. I kind of am too.
  
• TWO AND A HALF HOURS LATER, THE END. (except for the part where I have to change the dressing every day and oh, internet, I will spare you what that is like but I will just say GULP.)
  

You Capture: Food

So, I was very excited about this week's You Capture, because I set out this morning to make an apple-based recipe out The Pioneer Woman Cooks. I used to bake a lot, but I have not much in the past few years, so I'm trying to find my way back to that.

I was all cocky and excited because I used my mom's pie crust recipe (my mom's an amazing baker), and it was the BEST I'd ever done.

I was all, IN YOUR FACE, KITCHEN, as I moved on the apples.

What is it they say about pride? It goeth before a fall. Or a cut, in my case, when my thumb got into a fight with a Pampered Chef apple corer and guess who won? HINT: Not my thumb. So, one trip to the Urgent Care later, I'm sporting a super sweet dressing on my thumb (which will thankfully be JUST FINE in due time), and my Thanksgiving will be less one apple dessert.

And then, I burned my S'mores Pop Tarts, proving that today, food is not my friend.

It's okay, because I'm pretty sure we'll be BFFs again tomorrow. Except for the part where I really can't hold a fork. Or type, as it took me approximately 200 years to finish this post.

I Am Thankful

For him and him and him

All these boys. All mine.

You Capture: Sunrise/Sunset

There hasn't been much sun in my area of the world lately. I'm going to be honest, there might be sun in the morning, but the two sweet hours from 5 to 7 are about the only times I get to sleep because Shane takes Tommy, and then, I spend time snuggling with the boys. And as much as I love You Capture, I also love sleep. And snuggling.

So instead, I captured those first snuggly moments when we wake up, after the sun rises...

And the blissful, quiet moments after it sets...

And all the moments in between, when my days are always bright, no matter how cloudy it may be.

Hi, this is where I was born!

Iron Butterfly

A week ago, I wrote about my new iron. I promised you pictures, but then I was so busy ironing that I kind of forgot to share those pictures. I wish I had a video to show you, but I am alas, the only blogger on the world wide web to not own a video camera of any sort. Lucky for you, I take hilarious photos. Also lucky for you, I'm not modest.

When the iron first came, I wasn't sure what it was. It looked like a strange futuristic device to me. In the hopes that it was a robot maid, I told it to go fold my laundry. When it just sat there, I walked away and ignored it, until I saw Luke doing this.

(NOT plugged in, please do not call CPS!)

And then I was all, so THAT's how that thing works. After that, I announced to Shane that we now owned an iron. He threw several shirts at me, mumbling something about how he now no longer has to be that guy with the wrinkled shirts. I got a little angry at the iron for causing me MORE work, so I glared at it for awhile.

See all those shirts in the background? I told you he threw shirts at me.

When I finally gave in and ironed Shane's stupidshirts, I realized just how easy this iron is. It took me under a minute to get each shirt completely wrinkle-free. I will admit to utilizing the steam tool, which shot out a pretty powerful burst of steam and cleared out some of the hard to reach wrinkles.

I hear some people have a fancy device called an ironing board. I bet these people also have robot maids. I, however, have a table and a towel.

Luke was watching me iron and in the midst of it, removed his shirt and said, "Iron my blue shirt!" At first I said, "Iron your own shirt!"

But then he put his Tyrannosaurus Rex on the table and was all, "Iron my shirt...OR ELSE," so I thought it'd be a wise choice.

Unfortunately, while I was ironing, he colored on his face with a marker, but at least he looked styling in his crisp shirt!


When I last wrote about the iron, several of you left comments in the form of also hating ironing (fist bump of solidarity, sisters!), and I just want to follow up with that. I really, really do hate ironing, but this iron really makes it so easy. Like I said, I was able to do each of Shane's dress shirts in a minute or less. The steam feature makes it so that if you don't have time to iron OR if you have a garment that can't be ironed, you can still quickly remove wrinkles.
I also like that this iron has an auto shut off feature. This is really important for me because I can't count the number of times that I've left the house with candles burning or something turned on (please don't tell my husband).
I really do find myself leaning more toward ironing than I ever did before. I'm finding that in the time that it takes to run the dryer again to remove wrinkles from shirts, I can actually have the shirts ironed and hung in the closet. So while it used to seem like the dryer was the quick easy way, the reality is that this iron is much quicker--and our clothes look better for it!

Now that I no longer need a robot maid to iron my clothes, I would most definitely have my robot maid clean the bathroom and put the laundry away, my two least favorite chores. Oh, and clean the microwave. I eat a LOT of bacon and our very old microwave takes forever to cook it and is a pain to clean, but all the bacon eating I do makes it necessary to clean it often. See, I need a robot maid. Or maybe a new microwave, but a robot maid sounds so much more appealing. What would your robot maid do?

I received a Panasonic iron in exchange for this review. Still waiting on that robot maid...

Counting The Ways To Where You Are

A year can seem so short. 365 days. One birthday. A few holidays. But the reality is that so much can change in a year.

One year ago today, I got that flashing digital readout.
My hands were shaking so badly that I had to take this picture over and over, and this was still the best I could do.
I was home alone. Shane was picking Luke up at my parents' after work, and I took advantage of the quiet to test--feeling in my heart of hearts that I'd throw it away, disappointed. I didn't. I ran up and down the stairs looking at the test saying OHMYGOD over and over. I don't know why I ran up and down the stairs (and to one up any of you from making the joke, yes, perhaps I WAS preparing to eventually have a baby on said stairs), but it seemed like the right thing at the time. Then I called Keely and continued to OHMYGOD all over the place. I didn't think I was pregnant because I spotted a few days before my period was due and then really spotted the night it was due. It was Election Night, so I shrugged off the lack of pregnancy and drank a margarita (okay, three) to celebrate the election. Then the spotting stopped. We went to visit Shane's dad in the hospital the next day after a knee surgery, and I remember wanting to vomit at all the hospital smells. When we left, I mentioned to Shane that it smelled, and he said he didn't notice anything. That was my first inkling of a maybe. I took a test, really though, because I was throwing Shane a surprise party (by the way, today is his birthday and if he wasn't so old that he doesn't have a twitter or a blog or ANYTHING except Hotmail, I'd tell you to go wish him happy birthday) and wanted to make sure I could drink. Ironically, that's the same reason I tested with Luke. Most people get drunk and then get pregnant, I just find out I'm pregnant when I'm thinking of getting drunk.

I was scared but hopeful. We usually wait until we see a heartbeat to tell, but Shane drank too much at his surprise party and told my parents. So then we told his parents. Everyone at the surprise party guessed when I was all, No, thank you, I would not like a Jaegerbomb. Instead I will enjoy this delicious ice water. And then Beth found out. I liked it, though. When we finally saw that flickering heartbeat at ten weeks, I was relieved but thankful for all the love I'd felt up until that moment.
I took my first belly shot at 13 weeks. When I got pregnant, I made a vow to myself that I was going to be a cute pregnant woman, and I hope it's okay to say this, but I never felt more beautiful than when I was pregnant with Tommy. Not even on my wedding day. When Beth did my maternity shots, Keely told me that I looked more beautiful than in my wedding photos, and you know, I think she was right. There was just SO MUCH LIFE inside of me, and I relished every single moment.

At the end, I didn't want to stop being pregnant, I just so badly wanted to meet my sweet baby. At 36 weeks, I had my first dream about the baby, and do you remember that I dreamt that I had a baby on the kitchen floor? I didn't remember until I started writing this post and looked back in my archives, but oh my goodness, I was off by about five steps! Then he was here, and it was the craziest, sweetest, most surreal seven minutes of my life. Sometimes I still can't believe it.

This was our very first photo, taken with my phone. Tommy was still under the warm blankets , cuddled against my bare skin (does this count as posting a naked photo of myself? Because I was. Totally naked.). That smile is perhaps the most genuine smile I've ever had. I was scared, you know. I don't talk about this much, but I was scared. I was frightened we'd get to the hospital and they'd take him away from me. I was frightened they'd take him to the nursery and poke and prod him, but they didn't. Frightened they'd judge us, frightened someone would yell at us for not leaving on time (when deep down I knew that it happened much quicker than anyone could have anticipated), just so scared of what would happen. When we first came into the ER, a doctor came running over and started to peel back the blankets, and my sweet EMTs shooed him away. I owe so much to those women and to the nurses who let me hold my Tommy for hours and nurse him and love him before anyone even suggested weighing him or examining him.
And then, the outpouring of love that followed. The emails from my girls. The visits that morning. The hugs and joy and even the tweets and emails and comments from all of you. I've never felt so lifted, so surrounded with love in my life.
The sweetness that has been in my life for this past year is overwhelming, and life? It just keeps getting better and better.

(Same wall as in my maternity photo. I'm so clever. Also, please don't judge my footwear. We'd just been hiking.)

I don't know what I've done to deserve this past year. I'm not sure that I really do deserve it, but oh, am I ever thankful for the blessings of the past 365 days...and all the blessings that are yet to come.