Days like these...

This will be redundant for those of you who are reading this from the Facebook link, but sometimes, I really just do stupid shit.  This morning, I decided to wear this shirt:

It reads, "This is my zombie killing shirt"

I love this shirt.  A very dear friend who understands how crazy I am gave this to me.  I work at a college. On a floor full of administrators. Who wear suits and shit.  Do you see where this is going? I am not a professional being, but I suppose I should start being one.....nah.  Maybe I just need to go shopping.  

I walked in this morning and the Dean of the school I work for was in my boss' office.  Granted he is a super nice man, he rocks jeans, and so does my boss, but I still felt like a total ass. Why is that I wonder?  Maybe I will file that under "stupid shit I do that maybe I should think about." Here is my reaction to my decision of clothing this day:

Haha that is just funny.

In other non-Cherie-is-a-Dumb-Shit news:

I have decided on a program for my Master's.  YAY! Get this, it's in Southern California, it's probably going to cost me $90k when I am done, it's...it's USC!  WOOT!  Timeline is fuzzy, but as of this week that is what will be happening.  

Josie told her teacher yesterday that a) she is going to have a baby sister, and b) her name will be mushroom.  Love that kid!  She is seemingly sleeping better, less moody and talking a lot.  She is also a parrot.  So when mama says "Shit!" Josie says "Shit!"  We are screwed.

My super awesome husband gave himself heat stroke on Sunday making my garden bigger and tilling and prepping the soil for me.  It is going to kick ass, me thinks.  I will be doing salsa veggies and some fruit.  At the end of the season, I will be teaching myself how to can salsa.  Want some?  Let me know.

Well, that's about all I have this lovely Hump Day.  Hope yours goes well!

The Learning Curve

A fellow mom and blogger wrote a post about growing up along with her children and it got me thinking this morning about how that is really what all of us do, we grow.  We grow up (some of us), we grow big, we grow apart, and we grow closer together.

Giggles

This is most likely going to be yet another post about how amazing my Jo is, how everyday she surprises me, sometimes albeit not pleasantly, with something she says or does. How she will just say a sentence and I just stare at her and wonder where inside of her it came from.  I am learning more about her personality every moment I get to spend with her and it really blows my mind.  She is sensitive, strong, smart, willful, loving and a brat.  She doesn't hesitate to tell you when she feels something, especially love.  Sometimes she is so excited and bursting with love that she will just squeal, jump on you and plant a big Josie kiss on you.  "Ina tiss you!"




She is really a gift to Scott and me and every time I watch Shrek the Third with her, there is a part that just hit home with me, the Cyclops has his daughter with him at "work" and he says to her, "Who would have thought a monster like me deserved something as special as you?" Gets me every time! (Could be the baby hormones brewing) It's how I feel.  I need to remember that every time she whines, or cries, or act out.  She is 2, I love her, and she honest to the gods completes me.

The Garden 2011

So I am a total slacker, and have been promising photos of my garden last year and now that I am getting ready to start up the 2012 garden, I thought I had better get on it.  Enjoy the assortment of pics :)

From afar in about mid-August

Yellow Squash Bloom

Amazing that it turns into these beauties!

CORN!

Sweet and delicious

These got planted really late...

Took forever to ripen

Big Girl Pants

Friday was a different and challenging day.  We took Josie to Primary Children's Hospital to have her tonsils and adenoids taken out.  It was scary for me, and I am sure for Scott, but it being a routine surgery, there really wasn't much for us to worry about once it was over, other than how she would react to the experience.  I am happy to report that she is pissy, but doing well.

The thing that required my big girl pants was the being around the other parents and the other kids who were there for much more serious procedures.  Basically this is how it went down:

Little bity hospital garb

They herd you into this little waiting room with a lot of toys, video games and a fish tank with all kinds of fish and decor.  The kids are all somewhat happy, the parents, not so much.  We all smile at each other's kids and try to give a reassuring smile to one another.  Then your pager goes off, and you are whisked away to the pre-op check up room.  By this time your kid is getting pissy because this is reminiscent of going to the regular doctor's office where they poke you with mean things and shove sticks in your throat and they haven't eaten anything since the night before.  Then the nurse hands you a teeny tiny pair of hospital jammies and socks to put your kid in.  This is where my "Oh-Shit-This-Is-Really-Happening" panic attack comes in.
Then you are led into the surgery waiting room with lots more kids, not so many chairs, and more toys, movies, etc. to keep your lil one occupied.  Here, you see the same parents and kids and the anxiety is amped up. There is an air of "so what are you in for?" that is palpable. One by one, each child's surgeon and anesthesiologist weaves in and out of the crowd of kids and parents to find their patient's mom or dad and they "prepare" them for what is about to happen.  Then they come find you.  You try to pay attention to what they are saying and try not to blurt out "Please don't permanently damage my baby"and then the nice anesthesiologist person walks you down the hall to the point where you cannot cross the yellow and black taped line on the floor.  He calmly distracts your child as you hand them off to this stranger, and helplessly watch them walk down the hallway where your complete trust and life disappear into a little room.

Super fun waiting room #2

Then you numbly walk to the next waiting room, which is the "grown up" place where you try to keep your shit together by screwing around on Facebook, or pretending that you haven't read the same sentence in your book about a million times while watching every damn second tick away on the clock.  The nice people at the front desk are volunteers and they offer you coffee, water and snacks.  There is no TV, just cubicle-type sectioned off areas with not so comfortable chairs, and anxious parents.  Here you see people crying, eating, and pretty much not talking.  The phone at the front desk rings and they call people one by one to go back. "One parent for so and so."  And you think, "One parent? What the fuck?" My sweet husband knew that I probably wouldn't survive the day if I wasn't the "one parent" so he didn't even hold any pretenses.  Bless that man.

Calm as a Hindu Cow

So once you are summoned, the nice volunteer walks you back to recovery.  There is nothing that can properly convey the emotion, fear and instinct that hits you when you see that tiny person you gave birth to laying, unconscious in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines and with bloody drool and blood in their nose.

Still trying to wake up

Once you get to hold your baby, they wheel the bed and you carry them to the post op room where you will be uncomfortably holed up for the next so many hours.  The bed, a squeaky glider, and a hard chair that folds out into a pretend bed wait for you.  The opening to the room is all glass with a sliding door and all night you hear your child and the other people's kids you were in the trenches with screaming in pain as the meds wear off.

This was just for tonsils.  Other people's kids had major surgeries on their ears and hearts, and such.

This isn't even the traumatic surgery floor.  This wasn't where the poor kids with cancer are treated, or the newborns who have to be in the hospital are housed.

When you are faced with scary things, and people say "I couldn't do it" it's bullshit, because when it happens to you, you don't have a choice but to do it.

If anything, this experience has taught me to be more patient with Josie, more thankful for our health, and more compassionate for parents who have to go through worse things that I don't even want to imagine.  It's easy to be removed when it's not happening to you.

Life is funny that way.  It forces you to be strong.  This post may seem silly because Josie's ordeal was minimal, but it really made me think about how other people are not as fortunate as I am, and how strong they must be to be able to help their babies through such difficult things.

April Fools

We did it.  We made it to April.  Can you believe it?  April 2012 already.  Seems like we just celebrated Christmas. I am feeling very bloggy this morning, if that is even a thing.  The sun is shining and I feel pretty good.

Josie had a fairly good weekend.  She got run around naked most of the time...haha.  Saturday was super windy and apparently it felt good to "air out" so to speak.  This kid amazes me every day.  She is so smart and catches on to things so quickly.  She is speaking better every day and I just love her to bits.  I am so excited to have this new baby.  Sometimes I just look at Jo and wonder why God, or whomever, trusted me with such a beautiful creature, and I am happy they did.  I love her so much.  I know I will feel the same way about our little Jelly Bean.  Children are amazing little creatures.  <3 Can you feel the love?

 She is such a little monkey :)













I keep trying to figure out a way to celebrate the baby we lost.  Granted it was super early, the doc thinks it never got to be an actual fetus/embryo, but I was pregnant, I had the hormones, and I lost it.  I haven't done anything and I feel horrible.  I wanted to buy a wind chime to remember, but I can't make myself do it.  Someday I will be brave enough to do it.  Someday.

Enough of the sad, I am feeling great today.  I was sick this weekend.  Hopefully, I can stay feeling good and morning sickness (aka. all day bullshit sickness) won't come rearing its ugly head again.

Enjoy the sunshine, my peeps.