between the sheets...

No this doesn't involve our infertility, but as my husband says, "It doesn't hurt to keep trying!"
My son loves our bed; he jumps, skips, plays, runs around, laughing at every moment. Not to destroy his fun, I usually let him play a few minutes. Eventually, he gets hauled off kicking and screaming because he is not done, even if mommy is.



The other day I was in the process of making the bed after washing the sheets, and he came in the room. Not wanting an empty bed go to waste, he climbed up and proceeded to make the bed in his own little way. He rolled, twisted, scooted, and slid all over in our sheets. (Quite the romp in the bed if you ask me.) After a few pics he was carted off flailing his arms and legs in protest, so I could finish. Got to love the two-year-old tornado!

To start all over again

Yesterday I called our reproductive medicine clinic just to get an idea of what we would would need to expect for our next IVF/FET cycle. It is a hard decision. I do want more children, yet there are so many factors to consider. It is so much stress to go through another IVF/FET cycle. Am I ready? That is what I am trying to decide.

Some of the problems that keep rolling around in my head are the following:

Timing- My hubby is finishing grad school in May, and I want to be settled before I have another baby. (Both of my boys' births were surrounding moves, not recommended, but doable.) I am also looking at age, mid thirties can bring more challenges in the IVF pregnancy/parenting world. I am looking at calendars and datebooks, trying to decide when I will have 7 weeks to focus on pills, shots, doctor appointments, bed rest, and waiting, and have come to the conclusion that maybe no time will be perfect. I may just have to go out on a limb and do the whole process anyway for the hopes of a tiny bundle of joy to join our house.

Guilt- Sometimes I feel guilty wanting another baby. I have two wonderful boys, when so many are not blessed with even one. Plus the guilt of having frozen embryos...do I let my possibilities of other children remain frozen?

Money- Do we really have the money to do this process right now? We will have plenty of student loans to pay, and we hope to be able to have a home again (we sold our home to be able to come to school.)

All the other ideas that float around your head when you consider expanding the family- Believe me, if there was a problem to consider about having another child, I have thought it.

Plus all the challenges that pregnancy can impose, I know a few, both pregnancies were not without their challenges. We are not ready quite yet, but hopefully we can get the process going in the next six months.

Thrifty me!

So the other day I pulled out my favorite black skirt only to find that the zipper was broken. I had just worn in a few weeks ago, and I was disappointed. Here is my favorite skirt, and I don't have money to replace it. So instead of tossing the skirt, I bought a zipper for a buck and sewed in the new one. Only I don't have a great history with my sewing machine. I know how to sew, and I have made a few things in my day, but the memory of last year lingers in my thumb.

Last year I got the brilliant idea to make my kids Halloween costumes. I say brilliant facetiously, because it ended up to be my worst nightmare. As I was sewing Yoda's hood on his cape, I placed my left thumb too close to the machine. (I do have to preface that this machine is not a fancy Bernina, or Singer, it is the low-end model bought at a mass merchandise store, not at a sewing store, and to boot it was a hand-me-down.) Well that awful machine bit my thumb. Yes, I was home with my two boys, and had a needle broken in my thumb with thread coming out the hole.


I did what I could, I called my mom. Now I know my mom lives almost 2,000 miles away, but I needed her. She told me to call the doctor, and the doctor told me to go to the emergency room to meet her there for her shift. So I went to the emergency room and sat for several hours; apparently a needle in the thumb is not quite life threatening enough to do something about. Long story short; I was sent home, (needle still in thumb) scheduled for surgery the next day, surgery was not great, (still left small part of needle in the thumb that surfaced six weeks later) and had three nasty stitches for two weeks. Even today, my thumb is not quite the same, but I can live with it.


Well, in so many words, I am not friends with my sewing machine, but I won. I sewed in the new zipper, and even though it is not perfect I can still wear my favorite skirt! Yippee for me!

Generation Gap

So my darling mom called today and was so baffled to know that everyone on facebook knew her birthday yesterday. She couldn't believe that over 50 friends wished her happy birthday. "How did they know?" she questioned naively.
I replied, "Facebook tells everyone your birthday."
She incredulously said, "No way, where?"
I had to talk her through the homepage and tell her over the phone where to find all her friends birthdays.
Here she thought all along that everyone remembered her birthday. Sorry to burst your bubble mom.

Take two of these and call me in two weeks

My husband came home from class and complained that his neck was extremely sore, painful and stiff. We decided he needed to see a doctor, but with his classes and his doctor being an hour away, he went to an after-hour clinic, not to his PCP. After an exam to rule out anything life threatening they ordered x-rays and sent him home with muscle relaxers. He felt off and on better and we didn't think too much about it. (Maybe his class was so boring he fell asleep and he got whiplash!!) No, just kidding, not really. We got the results and come to find out he has degenerative arthritis in his spine. I about cried, we are only in our mid thirties! This happens to old people, well I guess not really old, but much older than us...right?
We had a follow up appointment with his PCP, a doctor he hadn't yet seen, and she seemed very apathetic to our concerns. I guess she didn't realize that this was our first diagnosis with the disease and it really bothers us. My husband is young, at a healthy weight, and he eats fairly well. He really doesn't have the risk factors for arthritis, yet he is diagnosed with it. What bothers me the most is the doctor's blasé attitude toward his condition. She seemed almost annoyed by my questions concerning his health. I felt shoved aside like an old pill bottle as she pursed her lips and retorted, "hopefully he feels better in two weeks." I thought well isn't it nice that it is not your body, or your husband that is going through pain so young. Isn't it nice that you don't think he needs more test to rule out other problems, or other more serious types of arthritis. She gave me a look as if to say I am the woman who went to eight years of school and four years of residency, don't question my thought or diagnosis. I do respect doctor's hard work and diligence, I am related to several doctors, however the apathetic attitude (at least as I saw it) was enough to drive us crazy.
"Well," my good-natured husband said, "Ritkiss sweatie, (sweatie=a term of endearment, for another story) guess we'll see how I feel in two weeks."
AARRGGGHHH!!!!

Witches

So we are sitting at story time in the library when the librarian asks what each child is going to be for Halloween. One darling girl says that she is going to be a witch.

My son promptly blurts out, "All girls are witches!" in his raspy voice.

Daggers and glares shoot across the room in my direction from all the ladies in the room, a few giggles, but mostly glares.

I am sitting there dumbfounded. Why would my son say that? Where would he hear a phrase like that? Something I have never uttered. Maybe dad is the culprit, or is it school?

Innocently after story time I ask, "What did you mean when you said, 'all girls are witches' bud?"

He says, "you know, boys can't be witches, only girls."

AHA!

To decorate or not

Well I decided to decorate a little...sometimes it is hard living in an apartment that you know you will move out of in a few months, but I did. I had this lovely orange vase that I love, but doesn't always go with everything, so I decided it would be perfect for fall. I bought some simple leaves and placed them in it, because I couldn't find decorative stones around here and had to wait to go to Wal-mart to find some. After I placed them on the table I was pleased, it had been some time since I had placed out a centerpiece, and I thought I was doing good. Well, I forgot that the two year old tornado eats at that table. Only a few days of sitting on the table and it was target to a cheese attack. It is hard to see in the picture, but his string cheese was planted on the stem. I had to get a picture of my thwarted effort. Maybe one day I will be allowed to decorate.

Feet in Mouth

So have you ever said something that you meant one way, and it was taken completely in the wrong way? Well if your like me, of course you have. Are apologies necessary?

My Little Artist

Our two year old is quite an artist. Just the other day I caught the above image as I was uloading groceries out of the car. I ventured to believe that he was inside and would not create a mess as I quickly ran back and forth from the car to the house. I obviously was wrong. He found the markers (luckily they were washable) and proceeded to draw on the window to our screen door. Not a big mess, but I have recently been more aware of the location of our art supplies.

Today I gave him the paper and pen to draw. It was so fun to watch him lay on his stomach, kick his feet up in the air and scribble to his heart's content. His concentrated effort displayed on paper not on windows or walls made me proud, so proud I couldn't help capture this wonderful moment on film.


He just came to me with his masterpiece proudly displayed in his chubby fingers and held it up to be praised. As far as I am concerned it is magnificent.

Genius me?

So I finally realized a way that my son won't make such a mess with food. Portion control. No he doesn't need a diet, he needs to have less food to toss, throw, pitch, hurl, flip, and chuck; I am sure you get the picture. I am now only giving him a few spoonfuls at a time, and then letting him ask for more instead of serving him the whole meal in one bowl. A little more work in the beginning to save me tons of time cleaning the scattered food particles all over the dining area. Gee, I almost feel like a genius figuring out that one. :)