Let's Get Stoned

If you had to venture a guess, what would you say is in this photo?

Well, apparently about 10 kidney stones. (You are undoubtedly thinking Krista, are you kidney-ing me? And the answer, my friends, is No, no, I'm not.) I went to the doctor because I thought that I may have a bladder infection early last week. That may be TMI and if so, get over it.

Ok, so I had a bladder infection. I picked up my antibiotics and the world seemed right again. On Thursday, though, the world was ever-so-slightly off-kilter. Again. The pain in my abdomen led to another phone call - and visit - to my physician.

After going through the normal list of questions and poking and proding in my abdominal region, I was given the glorious opportunity to pee in a cup to assess the situation further. Yessss.

"Well", the doctor started out, "I think you may have a kidney stone".

"A what?!"

"A kidney stone."

"Well, tell me this: On a scale of 1-10, what is your current pain level?"

"Uh...well, I'm not really good at that. You see... when I was in labor, my doctor asked me that same question and I told her that I was at a pain level of 3 when I was having horrendous contractions. I was probably more like a 12 or 15 when I said that. So, I guess I'm at a pain level of 4 right now. But this isn't more painful than giving birth."

"Ok...so, uh... well, that doesn't really help. Let's get a CT scan to see what is going on."

The scan was completely painless and I walked out of the digital imagining clinic an hour after I walked in.

On my way home, my phone rang. And, I was completely surprised to hear that I have not one, not two, but TEN friggin' kidney stones. One is stuck and is partially blocking one of my ureters. The other NINE kidney stones were dispersed pretty evenly between the right and left kidneys.

As one of my friends pointed out, my body doesn't just "do" something. No, when it "does" something, it REALLY does it well. Take making eggs, for example: I made 78 billion of them during the IVF process. Not normal but we accepted it and moved forward. Let's talk about having kidney stones: not one, oh no, that's boring. HOW ABOUT HAVING TEN.

Being an overachiever gets so old.

Hopefully I have passed this bad-boy-kidney-stone by the time that I speak with the physician on Tuesday. If not, I may have to get it crushed so that it won't cause kidney damage. The other nine are OK to stay in there as long as they stay out of my ureters.

Man, I feel like I say that all of the time: PLEASE STAY AWAY FROM MY URETERS. Ugh.

Excitement. Re-defined.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, it's not even 10am yet and we've been up for a while, ate some breakfast, took Echo on a walk, fed some ducks, played on a slide and are now back at home. Wow. Talk about over-achievers. Or, maybe we're just people with a baby. That's probably more like it.

It was an important first for all of us this morning: Connor has not been on a slide before, seen ducks, or checked out this park near our house. And I honestly can't say that Dennis and I have ever been to a park together before where we both climbed up on the play equipment and went down the children's slide. Surprisingly, we both had fun on the 10 foot slide. It was obviously made for someone smaller as we didn't quite fit like we did ... oh, you know ... 20 years ago.





We tried the monkey bars and let's just say that it wasn't pretty. I tried this cool looking cylindrical bar thing and it spun me around so fast that I jumped off because I felt dizzy. Dennis laughed at me and tried the spinny-weird-bar-thingie. As he jumped off just as quickly as I had, he muttered, "Man, that thing will get you sick in a hurry". My point exactly.

It's a safe bet that we probably wouldn't have ever chosen to go to a park to feed ducks BC (Before Connor) - - especially not at 9AM. Now, though, I think we'll put it on our weekly (or monthly) agenda because it was more fun for us - eh, I mean, Connor - than I could've anticipated.

It's excitement. Re-defined.

A Proud Father

It's official: we are moving up in the world. Connor has his own shoes. No, I mean it... don't fall over with excitement or amazement... it's true.

When Nana (my mom) came into town early in March, we went to Nordstroms to find some shoes for Connor. Why Nordstroms? Not exactly sure, but they do have designated parking spots for people with small children, which is always a plus. And yes, Connor isn't exactly small, he is almost 22 pounds, but you know what I mean.

So, ANYWAY, we walked into the kids section and I was amazed at the cute clothes that they have for little ones. I didn't buy anything for him but OHMIGOD you could spend over $100 on an outfit! An outfit that will undoubtedly be worn only once, maybe twice, and have poop, spit-up, and drool all over it. $100 for that?

Back to the shoes. As you can see from the photos, Nana held Connor and helped him to have his feet measured. He is a size 5. Wearing a size 5 shoe at Connor's age is apparently unusual. He's 9 months old and a size 5 is usually worn by 18 month olds. We had to special order his shoes.

When I told Dennis that our son has huge feet, he smiled and said, "just like Daddy". I guess I'll eventually be immune to all of the penis jokes. I hope so, anyway, because I doubt they'll be subsiding anytime soon.

Finger Lickin' Good

Dennis and I were thrilled to have mastered the art of feeding Connor his Stage 3 baby food and a bottle in about 20 minutes or less. It was nice, quick, and Connor never complained about the process.

But, as soon as we get the knack of what we're doing, we have to move on to the next stage. So, as you may have guessed, we are starting Connor on finger foods. In this picture, he is inhaling some Honey Nut Cheerios. He is a good eater when it comes to things like Cheerios or these "puffs" that we buy but not so quick to jump on the bandwagon with things like chopped up peaches and pears. He acts like he has trouble swallowing them. Using my newly acquired expert mothering insight, I am going to go out on a limb and suggest that it just MIGHT have something to do with the slimy texture. Just maybe.

As I do with most problems in my life, I turned to Google. And, as usual, Google came through for me. I was able to come up with a list of items for us to try: cottage cheese (gag!), soft cooked peas, carrots, potatoes, cream cheese and avocado mixed together (?!), and my personal favorite: cooked chicken. The lists that I found online also included tofu but... seriously? Tofu? Do people really eat Tofu? Apparently it doesn't have a taste in and of itself but just takes on the flavor of the food that it is paired with. I guess that wouldn't be so bad as long as we put it with icing or cake or something really healthy like that.

Once Connor can walk, I will be so excited. I will be excited to see him get around on his own, of course, but most importantly I will have someone else in the house that manages to put their sticky fingers on cabinets, doors, handles, and everything else you can imagine. Ahhh... I know Dennis is going to just love having TWO people with food on their hands touching everything. I will finally have someone else to blame! And for REAL, this time. Dennis hasn't believed me when I've told him (over and over, I might add) that Echo was the one making the cabinets sticky...

If The Shoe Fits

I love having new clothes but I hate going through the process of figuring out what will fit and what is in style. I am telling you, I need a personal shopper!! Typically, my frustration comes from the fact that it's hard to know if something is going to fit by just looking at it.

Wouldn't life be SO MUCH BETTER if there was a way to KNOW if something was going to fit that didn't require you to go through the exhausting process of undressing, trying it on, and then putting your clothes back on? I mean, SERIOUSLY. This is the 21st century, folks.

Wait, there is a way. Dennis learned something very interesting today: The circumference of your neck is half of your waist size. So, if you hold up a pair of jeans and wrap it around your neck and the jeans touch, it is highly likely that the jeans will fit. (For you male skeptics out there, do the math: what neck size do you get for your dress shirts? Take the number and multiply it by 2 and viola! you have your waist size.)

Amazing, right? If you want to know if shoes will fit, simply compare the length of the shoe to the length of your forearm (from the bend of the elbow to the bottom of the wrist). If they are the same, you are good to go and don't even need to try the shoes on.

FINALLY. MY LIFE IS COMPLETE.

And, for you traditionalists out there, just go ahead and keep trying on your jeans and shoes. I'll be the person in the corner with jeans wrapped around my neck laughing at you.

And Two Seats On The Short Bus, Please

Connor is extremely proud of his move from an infant car seat to his convertible car seat. I've seen him making eye contact with other babies as we drive down the road. Instead of being embarassed, he now holds his head high as if to say, "Hey, look at me. I'm big. I'm over 20 pounds so I'm in a big seat. You are just a little thing in your teency-weency infant car seat. I bet you can't even sit up by yourself."

There are good things and there are bad things about the transition to a bigger car seat. The bad: it's another expensive gadget and you now have to get TWO car seats because you don't move this item from car to car on a regular basis and - - this one can fall into both the "good" and "bad" categories - - you have to actually carry the baby in and out of wherever you are going (you are now repeatedly strapping him into his car seat when you get into the car, unstrapping him when you get to your destination, strapping him again when you leave). The good? Well, he gets to keep this car seat for a while (up to 65 pounds) and it faces forwards AND backwards. It also appears to be a bit more comfortable and has a nice recline feature. So there is hopefully more sleep involved.

All of that being said, you must realize that I have no fear. I will face any task head-on and figure it out as I go. So, I took Connor with me to the grocery store last week. I couldn't help but laugh as we cruised through Kroger because not only was he still in his PJ's at 2pm but he was WAY too small for the front of the shopping cart. I had to lean in and hold onto him as we went through the store to make sure that he didn't fall out. He did spit up at one point and, well, I didn't worry about cleaning it up. And maybe I should have. I just didn't think that I could manage Connor not being in his infant car seat (translation: me holding him in my arms), cleaning spit-up off of the floor, and maintaining any type of composure. Naah, it wasn't worth the risk. So the spit-up remained and off we went.

Two days later, Dennis risked everything as he attempted another grocery store trip with Connor. He had an extra weapon, though, which I am sure helped him out a lot.

There are many days when I wonder why I never had to ride the short bus. I guess it's never too late, and I can rest easy because I know Dennis will be on there, too.

Our job as parents, I guess, is to help Connor AVOID having to ride next to us. Maybe it's too late for that...

Audio Only

Dennis typically listens to The Bert Show or The Regular Guys in the morning so he has a different outlook than I do as I listen tirelessly to Boortz. He heard this clip on The Bert Show earlier this week and played it for me last night. It's amazing, scary, sweet, and sad all at the same time.

Please listen to this audio clip of a 911 call made by a 5 year-old girl.

This clip makes you think about several important things.

(1) Life is short
(2) The importance of remaining calm in an emergency is SO GREAT
(3) Be nice to your kids. They might save your life some day.

Happy 37 Weeks

Connor,

You survived your first Valentines Day and made your dad's birthday this year extra special.

These past four weeks have been especially busy for all of us. First, you rolled over onto your stomach (on purpose!!) on January 24th. Your dad and I were especially proud of this skill because we were starting to wonder if your belly was too big and was preventing you from rolling over that way. But, you proved us wrong. You are a true athlete just like your parents. Whether or not your belly is too big, you still managed to roll over and stay on your stomach for a few minutes. And after a day or two of practicing that, you looked like a skilled super-star rolling front to back and back to front.

You can sit up on your own, now, too, and enjoy zooming around the house in your walker. It should be called your zoomster rather than your walker. You tend to bump into Echo when she isn't looking so she rarely stays on the floor anywhere near you. It's safest for her to lay on the couch or to watch you from a distance. Typically, she will run the other way when you are coming towards her.




I went to Orlando for a sales meeting for a few days and when I came home, you waved to me. And then you gave me a "high five". I was so impressed. Now you like to wave at the TV, at your dad, at Echo, at the wall... and you are narrowing in on being able to clap your hands together.

I savor every moment when you let me hold you close because your busy legs want to get down on the ground to explore as quickly as possible. Once you start crawling, I know that I will be able to hold you less and less. After all, it's not nearly as fun to have your mom hold you when you could open a cabinet, grab a purse off of the table, pull a plant down onto your head, or chase Echo around the house.

Connor, I love you!

Love,

Mom

P.S. There is NOTHING cuter than seeing you cuddle up with Mr. Bear and Mr. Bunny every night in your crib.

My Valentine

I went to the gym and ran an errand or two yesterday. When I came home, I was reminded of reason #23,478 that I love my husband.

And Connor, my second Valentine, we are hoping that your dance skills will far surpass the skills of your parents.

Resolution-Schmezaolution

Yesterday I realized, with the help of a good friend (um... Katie), that I have not posted anything in a while. I started a post - three different times (2 in my head and one online) - but had not found the time to complete it. The funniest part is that the post that has been a work-in-progress for several weeks is about my not-a-New-Years-resolution-resolution.

Ok, so it isn't that funny but just go along with me here.

So, here it is. The long-awaited and much-anticipated blog post. [Insert Drum Roll.]

Ah-heh-heh-hem.

Its a well known fact that New Years Resolutions are as effective as diets. They just aren't. A "diet" or "resolution" is more of a temporary committment to make a change. If you really want to make a change in your life, you need to change something more permanent. So, I'm making a permanent resolution but need to call it something else. Who makes "permanent resolutions"? I'll just say that I'm making an update to my personal slogan. Yeah, that's it. Because everyone has a personal slogan.

My updated personal slogan is to finish what I start. This may sound easy but it has proven to be extremely difficult since Connor joined our family. I contstantly feel like I have 28 BILLION (yes, BILLION) things that are half-way completed. Nothing ever seems to get finished.

The laundry is washed and dried but not folded; the bills are paid but not put into the budget; we are almost-there with Margarentals but not quite finished launching it; I talk to my parents while holding Connor or walking Echo, so I'm not really doing either with my full attention. The list is endless.

So, my new personal slogan is to finish what I start. It's not going to be easy, but I can - and will - do it. The funny part that I mentioned earlier is that I started this blog post almost two weeks ago and I'm just now finishing it. So I am going to add an addendum to my own personal slogan. Not only am I going to finish what I start....but I will do so in a timely fashion.

Personal slogan updated. Check.