Limbo

I am healed. Walking normally and stuff. And yet, here I sit with a bandage on my ankle and can't really do much. I was supposed to go back to work yesterday but I won't actually be going back until next Wednesday. I think I could have gone to work if it weren't for these dumb staples that I can't get out until Tuesday. The thing about having a bandage on your foot/ankle in the summer as opposed to the winter is that you aren't inclined to wear socks and are going outside in the dirt and it therefore becomes filthy. I will do my best not to be embarrassed when I go get it removed along with my staples but it feels a bit like going to get a physical when you haven't changed your underwear in two weeks. Okay, maybe not THAT bad.

I am actually have more pain in other areas of my body. Mostly because the rest of it is having to overcompensate for the current weakest link. Yesterday I hyper-extended my left knee which I am sure is directly related to my bum ankle. Also, the muscles in my lower back and arse (that's the technical term isn't it?) are KILLING me. I will be having a massage on Friday and I hope that I can get comfortable enough to enjoy and benefit from it.

A call for help here - Miss A has the mother of all canker sores under her tongue. It is actually two right next to each other. That in itself is bad enough but the real kicker is that it is aggravated by her thumb sucking. (yes, she still does that.) Last night she was up at least four times inconsolably angry because she was involuntarily trying to suck her thumb and would wake up because of the pain. And there was a thunderstorm. Which didn't help her mood any. I had to move the baby to the playpen in the living room because there was no way to deal with both of them at once and with all of A's carrying on it was only a matter of time before she woke her up.

We began swishing with salt yesterday but today I tried an Alum swish which I tested first and it wasn't too dissimilar to salt but has a numbing effect. Miss A is not a fan of either method but I have some leverage by telling her that she won't be able to go to a friend's pool party with a sore in her mouth. This mostly does the trick in helping to convince her. I also threatened that if she doesn't help me help her feel better that she'll have to sleep in the basement tonight because I am not going to listen to her crying and try to comfort her unless she does.

I think it's safe to say I need some more sleep. But then, when don't I? So does anyone have any experience with canker sores and possible remedies? I am actually considering taking her to the doctor to get antibiotics or something to heal it faster and that is so usually not my thing!

This is the Part Where the Control Freak Loses It

So I had my surgery Monday. I had a nice late morning surgery time so I was able to get a decent amount of rest and have some time to mentally prepare (as much as possible) for the day/week ahead. This is a good time for me to mention how much I love my husband. We actually had fun together as we hung out pre and post surgery. We shared inside jokes, knowing looks, smirks and laughs. He made fun of me pre-surgery asking if I'd had any loopy drugs already which I hadn't. I think stress sometimes makes me act inebriated.

Anyway, the surgery went as well as it could have I guess. I asked to see the metal bits I had removed and they were very obliging. I can't say I'm sorry to see it go, there was a lot of metal in there! My anesthetist was not as 'slick' as the last one I'm sorry to report. It didn't hurt exactly (but then I'm kind of a freak) but it did feel like someone was fiddling with my spinal cord which I could compare with repeatedly having your funny bone hit with a tiny hammer. Except you need to stay really still while it's happening. It also takes forever for it's effects to wear off with me, I have no idea why. It does make me feel very relieved I never needed one with either of the girls because I wouldn't have been able to nurse them for hours afterward.

As expected I felt great for the remainder of the first day due to the local anesthetic that hadn't yet worn off. Tuesday was sucky and Wednesday would have been okay except that the day started off with me feeling okay so I was all "Hey, I can limp around without my crutches because I am obviously awesome" and ended in "God Lord, what have I done I am in agony over here!" Today I was on strict orders to stay on my @ss which I think I did particularly well and I and my ankle are feeling much better.

The nights were pretty much as horrible as I had imagined they would be. My darling baby was up several times the first night and it involved a gong show of Peter getting up and getting her out of bed and bringing her to me who had hobbled to the rocking chair. Then later me whacking the corner of the couch with the remote control to wake Peter up (when repeated whispers of his name didn't do the trick) so we could all go back to bed.

The worst part of this whole thing is having to sit back and let everyone else do everything for me/my family. And also having to keep my mouth shut about how it's being done because, duh! you're lucky someone is doing it for you at all. I've been finding it difficult not be cranky when in a lot of pain, sleep deprived and trying to heal with whiny children around me.

Another awesome thing that happened was that my doctor had told me I would only need to book one week off work when I actually need two. So. I had to have our receptionist reschedule a week's worth of appointments for me. Not only that but I am booked up into August so I have no room to have them rescheduled with me so they will need to see another stylist. Under other circumstances I would offer to work extra hours to accommodate them but I think I will be on my ankle enough when I'm back as it is. I have no idea how he made that mistake but I am rather unimpressed. Thanks for putting me back together and all but Geez!

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. My ankle is feeling much better today and I have carried Baby B to bed three times already tonight! (Awesome! The next time she's up she'll be in the playpen for the night.) I might actually be able to enjoy some of this involuntary time off since it looks like I'll be working my butt off for the remainder of the summer!

A Cautionary Tale about Stickers

Do your kids stick stickers on their skin? Miss A does. Although, not anymore if I can help it. The other day we had another appointment, an optometrist appointment for A. Here she is pointing at the nose of a finger puppet.



So because she was so well behaved she was given her pick of treats. (Again, just as at the dentist I'm sure the not so well behaved get treats as well) She chose a ring, a plane, a coloring book and a tinkerbell sticker. She was asked what she would do with the sticker, to which she replied "Stick it on my arm." And that is what she did. I didn't think anything of it because it's something she does all the time. But apparently this particular sticker had crazy glue for it's adhesive. When it was bedtime and we were going through our routine of removing elastics from hair and anything that may remain on the skin, (including paint, glue or stickers) we attempted to remove the tinkerbell sticker. It seemed cemented in place and simply pulling a tiny bit of the corner up inducing much screaming. So we left it be.

But last evening I noticed it was red around the edges and it seemed to be irritating her skin. I decided one way or the other, it had to go. So I explained to her that it needed to come off and we commenced soaking and soaping it. As seen here.








Can you tell by her expression how exhausting it was? There was still much screaming as it seemed like torture to remove it. Eventually I let her do it by herself while I supervised since if I tried to help the screaming only got louder. So she peeled tiny bit of sticker, by tiny bit off as she kept adding more and more soap to aid in the task. When all of the sticker seemed to be gone we rejoiced but unfortunately we celebrated too soon. Upon closer inspection I could see that although the paper was gone the GLUE remained. As seen here. When I tried to rub it off she screamed in pain.



Then I had a brainwave. Baby Oil. I probably should have used it from the start but I honestly had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. So once it was finally gone a slight redness remained but we were both relieved. I'm sure it was bothering her but she was afraid to take it off because she knew it was going to hurt.



Seriously, has anyone else every experienced this? I am seriously planning on calling the optometrist office to warn them that kids should not be putting those stickers on their skin. Does that sound crazy? Miss A is actually quite tough, if something hurts her that much I know it must be bad.

Anyway, I don't think she'll be wanting to put any stickers on her skin anytime soon and when the memory fades I will remind her why it's a terribly bad idea.

More Holidaying

Fence update.



It's pretty much done now though. Just a few finishing touches. So. Nice. I can't wait to go outside and not have to chase A back into the yard...

We went to visit our friends today. They live on a farm about an hour and a half away. I called the trip an early birthday present to A. She loves animals. Loves making animal noises. We had a nice time. She and my friend's son seemed to have a great time together. They would be great partners in crime. Both equally unafraid to try anything.

And I was yet again impressed (although I would have been happy to have intervened if possible before each thing happened) by Miss A's toughness. She got a little too close to the chickens and was pecked on the hand. She cried but stopped almost immediately when I picked her up and was still fascinated by them. She also went in with the other game chickens (much tamer and nicer) after she was pecked only being careful to hold her hands close to her body.



Sadly the other 'accident' was when she wandered off when we were getting stuff out of the garden and touched the electric fence. Yeah. I know. I suck. In my defense I didn't even notice the fence until it was too late. Again though, she cried until I picked her up and soon after stopped. I swear that the only reason she even cries is because she's so angry that something caught her off guard that way, not because it hurt very much. The look in her eyes after both incidents was pure outrage not pain.

Despite those events she had a great time, as did we. Miss A loved their doggie to death. I think he enjoyed her as well. And I'm pretty sure she made a little friend today...

No Comment

Things have been a bit hairy around here lately so I'm feeling a little slack in the blogging department.

Peter sprained his ankle on Thursday. It was one of those great things that happen. I can only imagine. He was hurrying to get Miss A to the babysitter so he could be on time for his massage appointment (I know, I was shocked too) when he accidentally locked his keys in the house. That meant no car keys and no house keys. He thought fast and strapped A to her bike seat while he broke in through the window. Flawless plan. Except for the slipping part. And the falling part. And the twisting the ankle part. He was worried but brushed himself off and successfully broke in on his next try. He was able to walk (limp) on it and make it to the appointment after all. He also managed to work Friday although I'm not sure how. Good timing for a long weekend. I tried to nurse him back to health as much as I was able to.



And then there was yesterday. The day when I truly realized my daughter's potential to be a criminal. You see for the past few weeks I have been getting lazy with the measures I use to keep her in her pajamas. I have still been putting them on backwards but she had made no attempt to remove them for some time. I got into the habit of not bothering the extra precaution of safety pinning as well.

BIG MISTAKE!

It was all a trick. A well planned scheme. A joke on me. For shame.

She was in her bed yesterday afternoon for the duration of her intended nap. Peter and I also dozed but I was well aware that she was not sleeping. This is becoming a regular occurrence lately much to my chagrin. When I finally went in to rescue her from the confines of her crib - OH THE HORROR. The nudity. the poo.

The best thing I can say is that everything was washable. And 45 minutes later the only trace of the incident was the faint odor in the air. Which I then killed with fresh air and air freshener.

I have pictures on file when I am need of the most evil blackmail material ever.

I have learned my lesson. Never. Trust. Again.

How can someone so cute be so... naughty?

Knee Update

Mom has another new knee. This surgery has gone far better than her last one. She is doing extremely well and I suspect the recovery will be much quicker this time. Unfortunately I am still consumed by stress, trying to run back and forth to the hospital as well as do all the other stuff that must be done. This includes arranging babysitting for next week when my work hours are all screwy due to the graduates of 2007 who are demanding that they have fancy hair! The nerve!

All in all though things are great. The fact that my mom is not in excruciating pain this time and also has not become depressed (yet) is wonderful.

Here we go Again!

My mom is having her other knee replaced this morning. All of you who remember the awfulness from last time will know I'm not looking forward to this. I'm taking her to the hospital in about 10 minutes. Prayers would be appreciated!

Good and Bad

Good – This awesome temporary shade I purchased for Miss A's room seems to be helping her to sleep better. As in, not get up at 5:00 AM angry because the sun in shining into her room and waking her up.

Bad – My jaw/head/neck has been aching since Friday. A side effect from the wisdom teeth removal. I thought I wouldn't have to be taking drugs anymore. No such luck. I wanted to go to the gym this morning but I thought it would just make my head pound more.

Good – There has been a language explosion happening here. A has started using some humorous expressions. “Oh Boy!” “Oh My!” “Uh Oh!” and my favorite which I have yet to hear “Holy Moley!” (I say that one.) Also “Please” (Pronounced Peas) is music to my ears.

Bad – She seems to be teething again. Complete with runny/stuffy/snotty nose, chewing anything and everything and a generally HORRIBLE demeanor. She is not a kid I enjoy taking out in public at present. Unfortunately never going out is not an option. Swimming lessons tonight should be good times...

Good – I spring cleaned my entire house this weekend. I still have no idea how I was able to do it. I haven't been able to clean this much at one time since before Miss A was born. It feels amazing to have everything clean at once. My OCD is kicking in though and I'm picking invisible specks of dirt up off the floor.

Bad – It has been raining since Friday. That means we have pretty much been cooped up in the house. No walks, no playground, no yard work. Nothing. Ugh. We all need to get some fresh air.

More Bad – I broke our digital camera. Peter if you read this before I get a chance to tell you, I'm sorry. I feel just shitty about it. It was a gift. I'm not sure if it is going to be worth it to fix it. I suck.

That Totally Sucked

*This is a really long post. It's funny in parts and I think it's interesting. If you're bored just check out the pictures. Except the gory one's if you have a queasy stomach.*

When Peter found out I was getting these teeth out his exact words were “Let me know if it's worse than childbirth.” I found this hilarious and informed him that I was certain it wouldn't be even though my birth experience was really great. I think the reason he said that is because he would rather give birth than have two wisdom teeth removed.

Well sweetie, now that the ordeal is over and the teeth are gone I can honestly say – it WAS worse than childbirth. And no one was more surprised about that than I was. Perhaps it is just because the memory of A's birth has faded. And I think I had a ridiculously easy birth. Even so, my wisdom teeth removal sucked. Let me tell you about it.

On Monday night for the first time I started to feel a little panicky about the whole idea. I started thinking about getting needles in my mouth and I started thinking “I don't want to get needles in my mouth.” I forced myself to stop thinking and fretting about it because it would do no good.

A decided to help me out by getting up at 3:00 am, staying up until 4:30 and then getting up for the day at 7:15. (Which by the way, totally messed with my ability to get ready) I wasn't running too far behind and managed to get A to her Grandma's and then get to my appointment on time. Thanks to Elizasmom I had my MP3 player ready with Disintegration by the Cure on it. Coincidentally that was the album I listened to for the last two hours of labour and during A's birth. I guess it is the soundtrack to my most painful moments in life. Fitting if you've ever heard the album. (if you haven't I strongly recommend going out and buying it RIGHT NOW.)

I had remembered before going in for the appointment, when my mind had wandered back to the needle thing again, that they had numbing gel for your cheeks so the needles wouldn't hurt so much. That gel is much more powerful than I remembered it being. So the needles didn't hurt that much after all. At first I was concerned about the fact that freezing was all I'd be getting before they forcibly extracted enormous teeth out of my jaw. Then they left me on my own for a while listening to Robert Smith and gave the freezing a chance to really take effect. And boy howdy, did it ever!

I have never been so numb in all my life. My entire lower jaw, tongue and even my chin were completely numb. They came in to poke at my mouth to see if I'd say 'Ouch'. I didn't. Then the hell began. As I mentioned yesterday they informed me that they would need to cut off the tops of both teeth so that they could maneuver them out. I strongly believe that the fact that they needed to do this was the main contributing factor to how awful the whole procedure was.

My MP3 player was as loud as it would go yet I could still hear the awful noise of the tooth saw thingy. Also, I could smell... what I can only describe as burning tooth. I was told that the tooth cutting tooth “shouldn't hurt” that I “should only feel vibrations”. Well let me tell you it felt a whole lot worse than just vibrations. I can't say it hurt exactly but the sensation was really awful and caused my legs to involuntarily begin trembling. This leg trembling intensified the longer they continued the tooth sawing until it became full on leg shaking which was moving up into my torso and at times even to my head. The dentist asked me if I was 'okay' a couple of times, to which I replied 'yes, I'm fine'. I hate to ever admit that I am anything other than fine in those sorts of situations. I don't know what my problem is.

So they extracted the first and 'easy' tooth after much cutting and reefing. I was happy that the dentist didn't put his foot on my chest for leverage. Then they took a small break which I was grateful for. I took deep breaths, steadied my spazzy legs and just regrouped in general. They whisked in once more and set to work on tooth two, left tooth also known as the tooth that would not be removed in one piece or without much sawing, yanking, breaking apart and coming out bit by bit. By bit. I seemed to get a handle on the leg shaking by contracting my bum muscles. I now have the hardest butt in the world. Then they took another break. This time in the middle of the job.

I was nervous. My brain was working over time. Was something wrong? Did I have some kind of freakish wisdom tooth that they had never before encountered? Were they consulting dental journals? Was I dying? (Just kidding) Also during this time I noticed that a really needed to pee. I knew what a hassle this would be and my dentist and his assistant had disappeared somewhere to draw diagrams of how the heck they were going to get my stupid tooth out. I assessed my need to pee. I wasn't sure how horrible the conclusion of this tooth removal would be and was concerned that it may be so bad that it would cause me to wet myself. Therefore I decided to ask permission to go.

My dentist seemed a tiny bit perturbed. I'm pretty sure he thought I was a wimp with my shaky leg business. I was all, “DUDE, you totally should have seen me have a baby. Not wimpy AT ALL. I totally rocked childbirth.”

Now that I had an empty bladder, they carried on to finish the job. It wasn't more awful than before, just the same level of awful. When they had finished I didn't realize it because I didn't have that same feeling of a large piece of tooth being removed as I had on the other side. All of a sudden the dentist was stitching it up. Because I didn't realize they were done I thought perhaps they had given up and asked about it afterwards. “No, we got it all.” the assistant cheerily told me. Great, all done. Only stitched on the one side. I was amazed that I didn't feel them at all. As opposed to my stitches after A was born. THAT was the part that hurt.

If it is at all possible my face felt even more frozen after they were finished. It felt like my tongue was hanging out of my mouth. I had to feel my face to make sure it actually wasn't. When I attempted to speak it was really garbled and hard to understand. I had the tiniest inkling of what it would be like to have had a stroke and be unable to speak clearly. It was not a pretty picture.

(A Picture of me imitating what I felt like.)


The best part was I didn't have to pay to be tortured. I just signed my name on the dotted line and left. Cool. I went back to my mom's place and she proceeded to take care of me and feed Miss A her lunch. We then went home and A had a nap. I SHOULD have had a nap but instead rewarded my own bravery with a little PS2 Sims 2. My sweet, lovely Mama came back to make my family supper. My supper consisted of mashed potatoes, gravy, and mashed butternut squash. And chocolate puddin' for dessert. I ate slowly and carefully and still it was tender.

To those of you still with me here... Wow! Good for you. This is a stupidly long post. I just needed to get it out there. Now for those of you with a weak stomach skip past the pictures of my extracted teeth and me pulling my cheek over. They are a bit gross. But enjoy the rest.

(These are the yicky ones.)






Lastly, if you think this was awful I consider myself lucky that I am not going through what my good friend Bon is going through these days. Even if you don't know her... go over and give her some love.

(Sorry to disappoint but I pretty much look normal. This face looks surprisingly (or not surprisingly) like my 'labour face', no?)

Ah! My Aching Back!

So my back has been killing me for about three weeks at least. At first I was blaming it on PMS. Then on M. But those are both over for a couple of days. I have nothing to blame it on now. Except for maybe, crappy genetics.

Several years back I royally put my back out. I was getting on my bike and as I was putting my leg over, something slipped. I had to phone a friend to pick me up. I could barely walk. I was flat out on my back for a week. My physiotherapist at the time told me my pelvis was out of alignment. Whatever. It hurt.

This is not nearly as bad as that. But it's giving me glimpses of that past experience, how very bad it was and how very incapable of looking after myself I was. I stayed with my mother during that week and she looked after me as if I was a baby. The problem is, now I have a baby of my own. I don't have time to have a sore back. I worry about being able to pick her up, put her in her bed. Looking after her requires me to not have a sore back.

As it is, I can barely bend over. I have to brace myself. While I was working on Saturday I was putting foils into my clients hair. Mid foil I sneezed and nearly did a face plant into my foil. My knees just totally gave out on me. That is the sort of thing that scares me to death. I imagine myself laying on the floor, unable to move, in horrible pain. Especially if it ever happened at home. I'm contemplating getting one of those buttons you where around your neck that notify the hospital that “I've fallen and I can't get up.”

On Monday I went to a friend who knows about injuries. He said my back was very tight. That it likely tightened up to protect my spine. He tried to loosen it up. Getting it worked on felt good and it also felt bad. You see I have a very high pain tolerance. I've known this for some time but then it is reaffirmed for me. Like on Monday when my friend used something like this



to work on my back. It helps him drill into the muscle and loosen it up. He told me there is only one other person that he has ever worked on as hard. I am so proud. Proud of the amount of abuse I can endure. I just kept telling myself that it was for the greater good. It would loosen my back up. It would make me feel better. I did feel better, for a while. I was sore in a new way. In a way that felt more like I'd been kicked in the @ss a few times by a horse.

So I am feeling a bit better. I think I may have to go see my 'friend' again. Since my tushie already looks like this...



(Didn't you all want to see my bum? Admit it.)
...it will be interesting to see how much bigger the bruises can get. I really don't care. I just want to feel normal again. Or at least, for my back to feel normal anyway.