Just because he is sexy and I love him.
04 Aug 2012 3 Comments
Last Saturday, I announced I started my journey to quitting smoking. It has been interesting to say the least. I also did not stop smoking. I would make it to the end of the day, and then I would have a cigarette because…it was just too much. Jesse would get off work and come home all hot and irritated. I’d be irritated because I just spent the day with a crazy baby who likes to seize on people, so I’m watching him like a hawk. I’m stressed the heck out don’t judge me for smoking at the end of the day!! Sorry. It’s the lack of nicotine. It makes me cranky. Well, yesterday, I just knew that I was not completing my goal and it had almost been a week and I was still smoking. What to do…What to do…I know. I went to the store to pick up some things for Jess, but I lost the car keys, had a panic attack in the PX (I decided to forgo my Klonopin like a genius), and almost wound up walking home in 100 degree weather. Luckily, I found the keys. New plan: Occupy myself with the neighbors. My friend Emily has 3 adorable kids and she rocks so I figure I’d hang out with her all day. Well, her kids came over and played Kinect.
She is a professional hair dresser, so she gave me a rocking new ‘do.
Unfortunately, Jesse didn’t like the new ‘do. So, if anyone would like to donate some baseball caps…let me know.
Anyway, he and I got in a huge argument, and some precious things were destroyed, my simmering self-esteem just one of the casualties. And I skipped the Klonopin that day, so there was no hippie to calm me down. Somehow, though, I managed to not smoke. Unfortunately, that sent me into some serious crying fits. Crying is not something I do. It was Thursday. It was also something I do Fridays, too.
Well, Friday, I took my meds. I managed to go the whole day without smoking, but I got really tired of crying, so I smoked a half a cigarette, stopped crying, and went about my day. Seriously, though, who knew quitting turned you into a cry baby. Today, I have a horrible migraine but Jesse has the day off, so I’ll be occupying myself with family time, if I can get him to wake up.
Happy Saturday, everyone!!!
21 Jul 2012 10 Comments
I don’t actually drink scotch. I still don’t like my babies stiff. Which is why I am writing this blog. The last few days have been completely mortifying. Wednesday, Judas and I were watching YouTube videos together. He was being my usual super-sweet baby.
Judas stopped breathing. He may or may not have just held his breath on purpose, but he began turning blue. I have been taking care of babies since I was 4 and I have NEVER seen a baby turn blue. Ever. Unless, you know, they were dying. Apparently, though, there is a new brand of baby terrorist, and they go around holding their breath and scaring the crap out of their parents. Okay…That’s fine. After I took Judas to the E.R., and they put him on an oximeter, gave him some oxygen, and did a chest x-ray, I would have been able to accept that as an answer. Reluctantly, but I would have been able to.
Unfortunately, the very next day. Judas had a seizure. He started coughing, foaming at the mouth, and his eyes were very unfocused. Then he stopped breathing and got extremely stiff. I could feel my own body get weak, because I was terrified. I thought, oh, God. My baby is dying in my arms. DO SOMETHING, MIRANDA! So, I called 911. I started patting him on the back. I was afraid to do chest compressions because CPR on a baby lives on the very thin line of helpful and harmful. The dispatcher wasn’t even a dispatcher for my post, so she had to transfer me and I had to repeat my address to the new dispatcher three times. It took 6 minutes from the time I called to the time the rescuers got to my home. by then I had done 4 rescue breaths and got Jude breathing within 1 or 2 minutes.
My poor baby was so tired and lethargic. But he was breathing. I had to tell countless people over and over what happened. We went to the Weeds Army Clinic. They drew blood, ran an I.V., did a CT scan, even gave him a sterile urinalysis. I felt like a horrible person when they did that. Watching your baby boy get a catheter is not a pleasant experience for you or him. His dad and I just kept looking at each other the whole day, procedure after procedure, like…what next? Eventually, the doctor said they didn’t have the equipment to run further tests, so we were transferred to Loma Linda Children’s Hospital (120 miles away from home).
Another EKG and 4 hours later, we were ‘admitted’ to the Pediatric ward. They put us in a room with 2 other families. I guess they were saving money that way…There were more tests. They took his temperature so many times, I lost count. They took even more blood. They flushed his IV every 8 hours until finally they gave him fluids. They did another EKG and an EEG. He was miserable and probably feeling violated and scared. Their stupid cribs looked like baby jails.
Finally around 5pm on Friday, they told us they his baseline was so normal and healthy, they couldn’t find anything wrong with him and didn’t want to be more invasive unless absolutely necessary and discharged us. As we took him out of his crib and put him in his car-seat. He was SO happy all of a sudden. It’s like he knew we were leaving that place. 3 hours later, we were happy to be home, albeit a little miffed that they didn’t find the cause of the seizure. We follow up with the doctor next week. I just hope he stays healthy.
25 Jun 2012 2 Comments
Happy Monday, readers! So this weekend Jesse started his actual job, and we found out that he will be working from sunup to sundown for weeks on end. So pretty much, I’m never going to see my husband again unless he has block leave (the soldiers’ 2-week reward vacation after being treated like a slave). So yesterday, I decided I was going to unpack some more –there isn’t a lot left, just need the time to get to it—and Judas decided he was constipated and had to scream the entire day. He and I were miserable together.* So, I got to ‘straighten’ up my living room, and the rest of my day was spent nursing, comforting, singing to Judas.
Today, the husband had to be at work 6:30, and today was going to be attempt #2 at cleaning up. I finally got Jude down, and ran downstairs to clean up. I opened my dishwasher to find my dishwasher sucks SUPER-HARD and didn’t wash my dishes. So I’m going to have to hand-wash them. Unfortunately, the water in my new house is lukewarm at best, so I had to call maintenance to get some hot water so I can clean properly. So I swept and mopped the living room, cleaned off the counters and stove and am about to sweep and mop the kitchen when my DS decides his nap is over. Sigh. Well, I guess I can put him in the stroller and we can go check the mail. No one loves me; Jesse got something from the post office, though.
I decided to roll Judas around the house in the stroller while I put things away. I shoved some army gear in the closet, and I’m stopped in my tracks. There is a box from Things Remembered that his ex-girlfriend gave him. I told him to throw this box away. He didn’t. I’m going to assume he just forgot because it was in a pile of crap next to the front door. I look at this box, and I realize, it’s kind of nice. Unfortunately, it has a ‘beautiful’ engraving on it from the ex.
I’m a jealous hater (only sometimes) and I WANT this box, but in order to keep it, I need to get that chick’s words OFF! So I take it upon myself to get a steak knife and try to pry off the engraved plate. I’m getting excited because surely but slowly, it’s coming off.
I guess it was a spiteful thing to do. I could have just thrown the box away. But no, I had to put my mark on it. And karma decided to put its mark on me. The knife slipped and I stabbed myself in the middle finger. It was pretty deep. So, I bled all over my kitchen. I had to pick up Judas and carry him upstairs so I could rinse the blood off. So now I have a hole in my finger, that stupid box is still on my kitchen counter-engraving attached, and I wasted like 15 minutes of my life being an idiot. That’s what I get…
*Side note: If your infant is constipated, and you need to give them some instant relief, use Karo light corn syrup. Just 1 tsp is all it takes. They should some relief within an hour or two.
P.S. I have some pretty awesome stories to share throughout the week, so stay tuned for more.
16 Jun 2012 3 Comments
So this past Mother’s Day, I woke up to kisses from my sweet husband, breakfast in bed, lilies on the nightstand and a spa day awaiting me, child-free. I was so happy that I—Oh, wait. No.
No, that’s what I wished had happened. Instead, I had a grumpy husband, who ignored me for his video game most of the day and…was less than verbally polite when he actually did acknowledge my presence. He went and spent around $300 dollars on himself and his brother, and I got a card…the next day. Mandi and our friend Jessica begged him to just tell me ‘Happy Mother’s Day’ and I wouldn’t be so mad, but he refused to do that. As a matter of fact, he didn’t say it until the next afternoon in Burger King. He told me that since the day before went so poorly, we were going to have Mother’s Day that day. I honestly can’t remember what we did. I think we went and saw a movie…but I was so extremely heated that it didn’t really matter to me. Of course, to keep the peace, I acted like he was being so sweet and I was so grateful for his generosity. In reality, I spent Sunday to Thursday crying whenever I found time alone. I know it doesn’t seem like a big deal. It’s just a Hallmark holiday, right? Wrong. I have postpartum depression, and everyday I plaster a smile on because I want to seem like a cheerful wife and mother for the sake of my family. So, I deserved a day to be treated like I was worth something like every other mother the one day of the year our kids/husbands make an effort to show they care. I didn’t get that.
So for Father’s Day tomorrow, I’m going to get a hammer, smash his laptop, sell his tools while he’s asleep, and get some scissors and cut the crotch out of all his…Oh, wait. No. No…That’s just what I want to do.
I’m actually going to wake him up with kisses, make him breakfast in bed, get him something special, and try not to knock his face off because I love him…
10 Apr 2012 6 Comments
Hey all! I’m Miranda. Welcome to my blog. A little about me: I’m a
starving artist aspiring blogger and SAHM. I have 2 insane WONDERFUL little boys: Jermahl (6) and Jude (8weeks).
Hubby is at work a lot, the baby sleeps/screams a lot and it gets kind of lonely (the hubby can’t really text during his job). I love to cook, bake, knit, crochet,SHOP, take surveys, spend time with my family, shop (I know I said it already :/), take pictures, do yoga, and experiment with makeup.
I know a lot of people wonder why we blog, share our innermost thoughts and intimate secrets. I want to connect, to survive, and maybe help a few women along the way.
When people first meet me, they think I’m a care-free 23 yo. Negative, ghostrider. While my life has its lovely aspects, it’s a bumpy ride. Soooo you might want to buckle your seatbelts.