Jared came down with a cold last weekend and on Monday started complaining of ear pain. We just figured that it was maybe due to the sinus pressure and the change in weather. So we gave him some Motrin and a warm compress. The next day was a much-anticipated field trip so he felt miraculously better. However the pain (shockingly) returned that evening.

Leah has had a cough for about 2-3 weeks (following a cold) and then started getting fevers the last few days.

Now, for those who know me, know that I hate taking my kids to the doctor. Since they are generally healthy kids, when they *do* get sick, it is usually just a cold or something that a doctor can’t really ‘fix’. I always figure the threat of exposure to the nasty/snotty swine-flu infected kids in the waiting room was enough of a reason to treat our problems at home.

I had to finally give in yesterday because I realized that enough was enough. I was able to get both of them in yesterday at the same time. The doctor quickly diagnosed Jared with a double ear infection (ooops! So ‘Man up and just take some Motrin’ advice was probably NOT the route I should’ve taken.) and Leah had the beginnings of one along with a fever that came up to 102.6 as soon as we got to the doctor. It was quite sad and I felt terrible! Neither one of my kids have EVER had ear infections, so I was actually surprised.

Well, another thing I brought up to the doctor was the fact that Leah has had fevers every 6-8 weeks for the past 5 years. Now, one of these days I will detail the horrible horrible day that she had an unstoppable febrile seizure (most kids come out of those things within a couple of minutes, but Leah was unable to come out of it on her own resulting in a Code 3 ride to the hospital where she was quickly placed under a medical coma to stop the seizures). The aftermath was a few months of a very sick girl. The ‘regular’ fevers started that year and has never stopped. She has never had another seizure, and I just assumed the fevers might have been just a normal ‘side effect’ of that incident. Yes…my name is Dr Stephanie. The fevers only lasted a couple of days and most of the time she ‘felt’ fine. So, never a reason to take her in.

After explaining all of this to the doctor, she just looked at me and basically said:

“Umm…that’s not normal.”

She DID further state that if there was anything seriously wrong with her, then she would have progressively gotten worse. However, to be on the safe side, she ordered a bunch of blood work to see if anything pops up.

To be honest, I’m not too concerned. She has grown and developed normally and is generally a healthy kid. She is soon to be out of the ‘threat age range’ for a repeat febrile seizure and other than Tylenol and Motrin, I’m not sure how they could ‘better’ treat her fevers.

Here I am today, home with two sick kids so please send positive thoughts and prayers my way to keep me sane.

So, on occasion, my kids like to go to Petco or PetSmart to check out the caged animals. It’s great! For real…it’s like a free zoo. And there is NEVER anyone around in those places. Now, we own a black cat (named Vivian…I know, I know – strange. I wanted to name my daughter Vivian but the hubs was having NO part in that so I settled on naming the next breathing thing that entered our family) and the cat we had before was black. We LOVE black cats. I know that they are no different from any other cat beside the color of their fur, but in MY world, they are fantastic.

On a recent trip to PetSmart to check out the alley cats that are either comatose in their cages or sticking their paws out reading to grab anyone who will give them some attention. Now, we’ve noticed on earlier trips that there seems to always be more black cats than any other kind. We never thought anything of it until we saw a flyer taped up announcing the need for people to adopt:

1. Elderly cats.

2. Cats with medical problems or disabilites.

3. Black cats.

WHAT?!

Yeah…the lady said that black cats are really hard to adopt out and they are always the ones being dumped and abandoned. So sad. I guess it’s because all the superstition tied to them. It was sad that we couldn’t take ALL of the black cats home, but we settled for a few cheek rubs and went on our way.

About a week ago, Jared and I were at the grocery store after I dropped Leah off at a birthday party. We’re in the produce aisle and Jared starts giggling and told me that the night before he had informed Leah that she had been adopted. Note: My son can be a REAL peach when it comes to his sister. I wasn’t there so Jimmy had to deal with the calming down and explaining. I scolded him a bit, but mostly let it go…Leah never mentioned it to me so I was assuming he didn’t cause any lasting damage.

A few minutes go by and I get an idea. While still in the produce aisle:

Me: ‘Jared, since you brought that up, I guess now is a good time for me to tell you something.’

Jared: *looks at me*

Me: ‘I think you are old enough for me to finally tell you that you were adopted.’

Jared: *laughing* ‘Whatever mom!’

Me: ‘No really, I just wanted to let you know the truth since you brought it up. Now, this doesn’t mean that I love you any less. You are my son and nothing will change that. Do you want some bananas?’

Jared: *almost falling down in laughter* ‘Yeah right! Then why do we have the same hair color? We both have red hair!’

(My hair is naturally red – has been lightened over the years…..I SWEAR!!)

Me: ‘Well sweetheart, redheaded kids are like black cats. Hard to adopt. I even got extra money for picking you. AND that’s why I named you Ja-RED. Can you hand me some oranges?’

Jared: *Can’t breath from laughing so hard* ‘Black cat?! Did you just call me a BLACK CAT?!’

Other shoppers: *Staring at the scene going down in horror* ‘Did she really just admit to her son in the grocery store that he is adopted while picking out avocados?!’

Here are some pics from the wedding the other day. I am so sick today, so this is all I could come up with for a post.

Beautiful Ladies

My garden fairy flower girl

At the reception, in the barn. Beautiful.

Long before I got smashed

Leah and I

Jared & I

Umm....?

My favorite

I am SO mad that I didn’t get my post in yesterday.

I’m at work right now and I had every intention of getting one out before midnight.

It is 2:30 am right now.

Close doesn’t cut it. November 10th on my little calendar is not highlighted with an entry.

DAMMIT!

In my defense, I have had a fever and cough most of the day and as soon as I got to work, I had an hour long meeting then a food run (during which time I got pulled over – but no ticket, whew!) then a couple of hours going over another meeting with my co-workers. Before I knew it, it was past midnight.

DAMMIT!

But, I won’t let this stop me from trying my best to get the rest of the days this month. This has been a great opportunity and I appreciate the challenge.

* Growing Up: Part Two

To this day, I do not know if I would have been able to got thru with the abortion had I been able to get in that Friday. I’d like to say ‘no’, but I honestly do not know. However, I will forever be grateful for that ‘peaceful’ afternoon with my mom watching movies.

She held me as I cried and kept repeating that it would all work out. It was a relief to have made a solid decision, but by knowing one thing I was NOT going to do, I was faced with a million more decisions to make.

I decided to move forward as if I was going to keep this child, but didn’t shut out the possibility of adoption. In fact, I was in an herbal store one day getting prenatal vitamins and the woman who worked there started talking to me. Within 15 minutes, she was offering to adopt my child. She painted a beautiful picture of the life they lived in the country. Land, animals, siblings. I was extremely close to being convinced that this may be the best option. I look back now, and I see how she manipulated a very fragile girl. As true as her intentions may have been, I believe that was the wrong way to go about that. I still feel as if something was ‘off’ with her.

Within a few weeks, I started getting morning sickness. I happened to be working at Burger King at the time (oh YEAH baby! I was SO gonna support a child on my own!) on the opening shift. I had to be there at 5 am to prep and I remember forcing myself thru the mornings and surviving on a half gallon of Sprite.

That only lasted a few more weeks. Soon I was having morning, noon and night sickness. My bedroom was upstairs and I would wake up, walk 5 ft to the bathroom, puke, walk downstairs…in time to puke in that bathroom, eat a piece of toast, make it upstairs to puke, then go back to bed. That was my day. Every day. I had to bring a puke bag with me EVERYWHERE. I was sooooo miserable. I was able to go on disability and was always thisclose from going to the hospital for dehydration. I had to quit school. So here I was, in bed for 22 out of 24 hours, puking and being miserable. But at least I had a roof over my head and food (when I could keep it down).

Until.

Until my grandparents sat me down. I had broken a rule. I was not working nor going to school. I could no longer live with them.

Of course.

I could not, would NOT move back with my mom and step-dad. I honestly don’t even know if that was a possibility for me at the time. My only other option would be to move in with JD and his mom in Sacramento. He had recently moved out there also not having a place to live. I was extremely lucky that she took me in. Even tho we were in one of the THE most ghetto locations in Sacramento, we never had any problems. I was still sick and pretty much bed ridden for the first month or so, but the doctors finally gave me some meds to help alleviate the nausea and vomiting. JD went to work and I hung out at the house. It was killing me. I HATED sitting around. I was starting to feel better, but not well enough to try and find a job. Plus, I really never knew how long I was going to last at that house. If I wasn’t depressed before moving in there, I was deep in the pits within a month.

As I’d mentioned before, I did not love JD. And the longer I was with him, the more I resented him. JD was going about his life as if I was his wife and we were expecting our much-anticipated ‘planned’ child. My entire world was turned upside down. Family and friends were gone. I had NO money. I had no home. This was NOT the life I wanted. There was something better out there for me. He was content in what we had, I was losing myself. I was well aware that along with the pregnancy, I was going to have to discover a ‘new’ me. I was not prepared for the absolute emptiness that I experienced during that time.

 ….to be continued

There were about 300 people at this wedding. The ceremony went wonderfully smooth. Everyone was so beautiful.

Leah did GREAT. A little boy was ‘scheduled’ to walk with her, but even at the rehearsal he was having NO part of that. They half-heartedly tried to get him to walk with Leah yesterday, but it was a lost cause from the beginning. It worked out better actually. Leah got her 5 minutes of fame and they dressed her up like a garden angel. Precious and innocent.

The reception was at their family barn. This barn has apparently been in the family for quite a while and the past 6 months or so have been spent cleaning it out and putting in a new roof and too many other details to list.

The result was INCREDIBLE. Absolutely gorgeous. I didn’t have the chance to upload any pics, but they wouldn’t even do this magazine spread image justice.

Hours and hours were spend eating, drinking, dancing, laughing, reconnecting with family. My face hurts from smiling/laughing. My legs hurt from dancing. My head hurts (slightly) from drinking. I love it. It’s all pain I welcome and embrace. 

My husband has once again proved himself indispensable. Waiting on me hand and foot during my drunken state after we got home. He took care of every detail, right down to leaving the bathroom light on ‘just in case’. He is the best. I plan on keeping him around for a LONG time.

This is the last post before I get back on my ‘Growing Up’ series.

The problem is: I’m Drunk.

Like, WAY Drunk. From a much anticipated wedding.

Like, he has made me toast and put me 0ut a full glass of water to help prevent a hangover.

We’ll see how well THAT works!

We have family in from all over the nation this weekend for the wedding tomorrow.

I am sorry, but I have been committed to spending time with them and enjoying the stories.

No time to ‘blog’.

However, another commitment has brought me back this evening to push thru this pathetic post so that not one day goes by without an entry. I actually was going to let tonight go, but it was my husband that encouraged me to at least write a few lines. Knowing that I would regret leaving today blank, he would not relent until I sat down and hit ‘New Post’.

I love my husband more than anything. We will save THAT for yet another day.

Good night.

Helped out in Leah’s class for 3 hours.

Helped out (visited) for set-up of an amazing wedding planned for Saturday.

Took Leah to the wedding rehearsal (she’s the flower girl).

Just got home from rehearsal dinner.

I love days like this, but didn’t leave any room for the time consuming and emotionally draining task of sharing with you one of the toughest years of my life.

BUT…I made a commitment to blog every day for the month of November. It’s not much…but here you go.

Oh, but I’ll leave you with a video from Easter a couple of years ago. My aunt had gotten those Jelly Beans from Harry Potter. You know? The dirt flavored, boogers, vomit, etc. Mixed up with the nasty ones were normal ones that looked exactly the same. So we dared Michael to eat them and tell us what he thought they were. It gets good after the 1 minute mark.

If you missed what ‘flavor’ it was. It was Skunk Spray.

Good times.

I will never forget coming home after ‘partying’ right around dinnertime. Perfect. Because I had a serious case of the munchies. My grandma had made clam linguine. Not nasty or anything, but not my fav. That night it was MY FAVORITE thing to eat in the entire world! I inhaled like 3 helpings and in my ‘happy state’ couldn’t stop complimenting my grandma. She just beamed.

Well, because of that one evening, that dish will forever be my favorite food in my grandmothers eye and if she knew I was going to be there for dinner, that is what she served.

“Oh Stephanie…I’m making your favorite tonight”

It seemed like she made it once a week ‘just in case’ I made it in on time.

Sigh  

Yeah, life was good at my grandma and grandpa’s.

JD had just as much freedom as I did. So we ran wild. Drinking, smoking, sex, fights, parties, etc. I, amazingly, still managed to work (almost full-time) and go to school during this time. Everything was going in the right direction for me and I had no worries.

Until April 1997. Couple of days late. About 4 (very expensive) pregnancy tests. A phone call to my mom. Confirmation. I was pregnant.

My mom stayed with me for a while and just kept telling me that it would all be OK. I chose not to make any decisions that day. That evening as I went to bed (early and sober) I placed my hands on my (flat) belly and was amazed by the fact that there was an actual living thing inside of me. It was a LOT to take in. As responsible as I thought I was, the possibility of me raising a child was unimaginable.

Of course every action, thought, and breath revolved around the fact that I was pregnant. I had some decisions to make and I needed to make them soon.

Adoption? Abortion? Keep it?

Now, here’s the hard part. After thinking long and hard over all of my possibilities and with my mothers support, I decided on abortion.

‘I’m too young.’

‘I’m not marrying JD.’

‘I cannot support a child, I can’t even support myself!’

‘My drinking and partying may have damaged it.’

This was the best choice.

Friday I made the call. I wanted it done that day. Once my mind was made up, I wanted to hurry up and get it done and over with. Get this thing out of my body and move on with my life. They couldn’t get me in until Tuesday. TUESDAY?!?! I’ve got to wait 4 freakin days!! OMG! Just my luck! I was NOT happy.

My mom calmed me down and I somehow got thru a couple of days. I think it was Sunday, I was feeling stressed out and upset so my mom invited me over for some funny movies and veggin out time. No one was going to be home so I could just spend some quality time with her in peace. Settled in on the couch we started watching one of the comedies out at the time. I knew I had wanted to see it in the theater so I was excited to finally be able to watch it: Nine Months.

Seriously people. I only saw that it was a comedy. I only saw that I was going to have 90 minutes of escape. I honestly, in my stressed out sleep deprived mind, did not see the connection.

Cute movie. Real cute. Until…until the scene when Hugh Grants character didn’t make it to the sonogram appointment so he found the tape of the images at home and started watching it on his TV. He was sitting on the couch in his house all alone and couldn’t take his eyes off the child moving around on the screen. He started tearing up.

I am sure there was a buildup within me. But the only thing I remember are the sobs that came from my body. My mom was instantly at my side holding me. Crying I said “I can’t kill my baby! Oh my God, mom…I cannot kill my baby”

************************************

To be continued…….