How I Spent My Summer
Nov. 15th, 2004 07:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dmarleyEr, hi.
Yep, it's been quite a while. I should really just resign myself to the fact that I am a sporadic surfer. Three months on, two months off, two months on, three months off....
The biggest reason I haven't updated is that for quite a while the only notable news I had was of the "argh!" or "this sucks" variety. And, well, that's just no fun to write about over and over. Plus, my modem became tempermental (somewhat fixed now that I've figured out exactly where to wedge the Q-Tip). Then I started knitting. And knitting. And knitting.
Eventually, of course, the growing horror of the un-downloaded e-mail became a phobia in and of itself, and it took several weeks to nerve myself to log on. I did it for a good cause, though, of which I will speak more about in a separate post. And it only turned out to be around 250 messages, which is a lesson in the fear being greater than the reality.
Now, to summarize the last few months, which, I will warn, we've been calling, "The Summer From Hell." I've split the cuts into sections, for ease of skipping the bits that might not be interesting to all.
First, and best, is that Boo has been pronounced healthy and growing and A-OK by her endocrinologist. The fattening campaign finally started to pay off, and she grew out of her clothes and developed adorable rolls of fat here and there. The endocrinologist had several good words for me about her improvement, which made every bit of stress and sweat over her diet more than worth it. I only cried a little bit. :)
Boo is talking a lot now, and the most frequent word in her vocabulary--apart from "Mommy, help," of course--is "puppy." She fell in love with Sandra Boynton's "Snuggle Puppy" book and song, and has been very interested in all things puppy ever since. We went from 101 Dalmations to Lady and the Tramp, and now, for better or worse, she's in love with Blue's Clues. Her post-breakfast battle cry is now, "Watch Blue!"
She also developed a sudden and completely unexpected--to her parents, anyway--desire to start potty training. A couple of months ago she announced "Pee!" one day, and when I asked her if she had to pee she said "Uh-huh." I didn't think she really knew what she was asking, but I dashed around finding the scattered parts of the potty that![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
coreopsis kindly gave me, sat her on it, and lo! Boo did pee into the potty. Considering that she's recently become very adept at removing all her nether garments, including diaper, with great skill and stealth during naptime, it's good that she's interested. She also insists that her favorite stuffed animals wear diapers, too, and occasionally will inform me of their various bodily functions and that they need their diapers changed. Progress in its many forms.
Speaking of progress, she had to be abruptly switched from crib to toddler bed after escaping from said crib one morning. I went in to get her, and she ran out of the room laughing in delight while I had a quiet heart attack imagining how on earth she managed to scale the rails and lower herself down. We converted the crib to a bed that day, and even though she's suffered her share of bumps and pinches and falls (including a trip to the doctor for a bleeding lip) from being free to run around her room, I figured it was better than her breaking a limb trying to escape the crib.
The most dramatic Boo incident occured on the morning of Albert's father's funeral. Although he died over Memorial Day weekend, his actual burial didn't take place until mid-October. The whole affair was already a stress-bomb of megaton proportions, and I was awakened that morning by a scream of pain from Boo. She'd managed to catch her finger in a drawer, and the nail was split and bleeding. I took her to the doctor (again), and the doctor said that though the nail would probably fall off (which it didn't, actually), her finger wasn't broken and if we kept it clean it would heal fine. Which it did, even though she occasionally still requested Band-Aids. :)
In other health news, I didn't have to have emergency surgery. Trust me, this was very good news at the time. :) I went to the doctor with minor stomach pains early in August, but a few days later the pain had grown to the point that when I phoned for an appointment they advised me not to eat or drink anything, just in case an operation was needed. Fortunately, a CT scan revealed that it was only small area of diverticulitis, not requiring surgery, and not appendicitis, either. I had to spend a few days in bed doped up on painkillers, and tomatoes and other seeded fruits won't be prominently featuring in my diet anymore, but all and all it turned out to be much less serious than it could have.
Then came the migraine. I get migraines very, very rarely, usually as the result of some high-level stress or emotional blow. I hadn't had one in years, as was attested by the fact that my Compazine prescription had been lying around the house for three years. Unfortunately, the migraine hit on a weekend, and said Compazine was so old that it didn't work anymore. I spent several days wearing sunglasses day and night and keeping the curtains drawn, but once I got fresh Compazine on Monday my world became a better place.
Now, I mentioned that I only get the migraines because of extraordinary stress. I think I can safely pin this one on a combination of stressful things all summer, starting with Albert's father dying on up through Boo's growth crisis. But the triggering event was, I think, my kitty Sylvester. Around mid-August he started bleeding from his mouth, and for several days we couldn't find out why. Although the bleeding eventually proved to be from an ulcer in the roof of his mouth, in the course of the x-rays, blood tests, and other expensive exams we discovered that he was hyperthyroid. The doctor postulated that the high blood pressure caused by the hyperthyroidism was causing the ulcer to bleed more than normally, and sure enough it's stopped since he's been on his thyroid medication.
The ulcer itself also seems to be healing, but at first there was the possibility that it might indicate a tumor, one in a completely inoperable place. For a while there when I wasn't sure if his condition was curable or not, and the prospect of losing my buddy of thirteen years had me pretty upset. So, migraine.
The incident with Sylvester was one of several unexpected bills we had this summer. Without going into tedious detail about car repairs, phone charges, and water leaks, the over-and-above bills over a three-month period totaled something close to three grand, which is the only reason I didn't flee gratefully to DragonCon over Labor Day.
But, there've been silver linings, too. We didn't go to DragonCon, but Al still had a couple of days off and we used them to paint our bedroom. I'm afraid, though, that I may have destroyed the balance of painting/home improvement karma. For the entire project, start to finish, I had to make no trips to the hardware store. None. Zero. After Jamie had painted her new house, and I'd painted in my new house, I ended up with all the joint supplies and therefore had a stockpile of everything from disposable dropcloths to roller refills to paint tray liners to tape, enough that I had everything I needed. I think, though, I may have placed some evil retribution on my sister, who called me after I'd crowed about my no-trip project to tell me about her own home improvement horrors in re-painting her bedroom, most notably the fact that the previous painters had, for some mysterious and unfathomable reason, painted random sections of the room in high-gloss paint. It was the exact color of the rest of the room, and it was only when the new paint wouldn't cover properly that she discovered it. She had to sand and re-paint, and claimed it was my fault. She's probably right.
I also got a lot of knitting done. A lot. I finished a second butterfly afghan, knitted a third butterfly afghan in its entirety, and knitted about 50 fish (about half of what I need) for another afghan before I got sick of fish and knitted two hats, three pairs of toddler mittens, and most of a sock. I would post pictures, but firstly, I've been lax about taking them, and secondly, I'm not able to FTP to mattachine.com at the moment. I think that Photobucket account is going to get some use.
So, there you have it. My summer in a nutshell. Which is where it likely belongs.
Yep, it's been quite a while. I should really just resign myself to the fact that I am a sporadic surfer. Three months on, two months off, two months on, three months off....
The biggest reason I haven't updated is that for quite a while the only notable news I had was of the "argh!" or "this sucks" variety. And, well, that's just no fun to write about over and over. Plus, my modem became tempermental (somewhat fixed now that I've figured out exactly where to wedge the Q-Tip). Then I started knitting. And knitting. And knitting.
Eventually, of course, the growing horror of the un-downloaded e-mail became a phobia in and of itself, and it took several weeks to nerve myself to log on. I did it for a good cause, though, of which I will speak more about in a separate post. And it only turned out to be around 250 messages, which is a lesson in the fear being greater than the reality.
Now, to summarize the last few months, which, I will warn, we've been calling, "The Summer From Hell." I've split the cuts into sections, for ease of skipping the bits that might not be interesting to all.
First, and best, is that Boo has been pronounced healthy and growing and A-OK by her endocrinologist. The fattening campaign finally started to pay off, and she grew out of her clothes and developed adorable rolls of fat here and there. The endocrinologist had several good words for me about her improvement, which made every bit of stress and sweat over her diet more than worth it. I only cried a little bit. :)
Boo is talking a lot now, and the most frequent word in her vocabulary--apart from "Mommy, help," of course--is "puppy." She fell in love with Sandra Boynton's "Snuggle Puppy" book and song, and has been very interested in all things puppy ever since. We went from 101 Dalmations to Lady and the Tramp, and now, for better or worse, she's in love with Blue's Clues. Her post-breakfast battle cry is now, "Watch Blue!"
She also developed a sudden and completely unexpected--to her parents, anyway--desire to start potty training. A couple of months ago she announced "Pee!" one day, and when I asked her if she had to pee she said "Uh-huh." I didn't think she really knew what she was asking, but I dashed around finding the scattered parts of the potty that
coreopsis kindly gave me, sat her on it, and lo! Boo did pee into the potty. Considering that she's recently become very adept at removing all her nether garments, including diaper, with great skill and stealth during naptime, it's good that she's interested. She also insists that her favorite stuffed animals wear diapers, too, and occasionally will inform me of their various bodily functions and that they need their diapers changed. Progress in its many forms.Speaking of progress, she had to be abruptly switched from crib to toddler bed after escaping from said crib one morning. I went in to get her, and she ran out of the room laughing in delight while I had a quiet heart attack imagining how on earth she managed to scale the rails and lower herself down. We converted the crib to a bed that day, and even though she's suffered her share of bumps and pinches and falls (including a trip to the doctor for a bleeding lip) from being free to run around her room, I figured it was better than her breaking a limb trying to escape the crib.
The most dramatic Boo incident occured on the morning of Albert's father's funeral. Although he died over Memorial Day weekend, his actual burial didn't take place until mid-October. The whole affair was already a stress-bomb of megaton proportions, and I was awakened that morning by a scream of pain from Boo. She'd managed to catch her finger in a drawer, and the nail was split and bleeding. I took her to the doctor (again), and the doctor said that though the nail would probably fall off (which it didn't, actually), her finger wasn't broken and if we kept it clean it would heal fine. Which it did, even though she occasionally still requested Band-Aids. :)
In other health news, I didn't have to have emergency surgery. Trust me, this was very good news at the time. :) I went to the doctor with minor stomach pains early in August, but a few days later the pain had grown to the point that when I phoned for an appointment they advised me not to eat or drink anything, just in case an operation was needed. Fortunately, a CT scan revealed that it was only small area of diverticulitis, not requiring surgery, and not appendicitis, either. I had to spend a few days in bed doped up on painkillers, and tomatoes and other seeded fruits won't be prominently featuring in my diet anymore, but all and all it turned out to be much less serious than it could have.
Then came the migraine. I get migraines very, very rarely, usually as the result of some high-level stress or emotional blow. I hadn't had one in years, as was attested by the fact that my Compazine prescription had been lying around the house for three years. Unfortunately, the migraine hit on a weekend, and said Compazine was so old that it didn't work anymore. I spent several days wearing sunglasses day and night and keeping the curtains drawn, but once I got fresh Compazine on Monday my world became a better place.
Now, I mentioned that I only get the migraines because of extraordinary stress. I think I can safely pin this one on a combination of stressful things all summer, starting with Albert's father dying on up through Boo's growth crisis. But the triggering event was, I think, my kitty Sylvester. Around mid-August he started bleeding from his mouth, and for several days we couldn't find out why. Although the bleeding eventually proved to be from an ulcer in the roof of his mouth, in the course of the x-rays, blood tests, and other expensive exams we discovered that he was hyperthyroid. The doctor postulated that the high blood pressure caused by the hyperthyroidism was causing the ulcer to bleed more than normally, and sure enough it's stopped since he's been on his thyroid medication.
The ulcer itself also seems to be healing, but at first there was the possibility that it might indicate a tumor, one in a completely inoperable place. For a while there when I wasn't sure if his condition was curable or not, and the prospect of losing my buddy of thirteen years had me pretty upset. So, migraine.
The incident with Sylvester was one of several unexpected bills we had this summer. Without going into tedious detail about car repairs, phone charges, and water leaks, the over-and-above bills over a three-month period totaled something close to three grand, which is the only reason I didn't flee gratefully to DragonCon over Labor Day.
But, there've been silver linings, too. We didn't go to DragonCon, but Al still had a couple of days off and we used them to paint our bedroom. I'm afraid, though, that I may have destroyed the balance of painting/home improvement karma. For the entire project, start to finish, I had to make no trips to the hardware store. None. Zero. After Jamie had painted her new house, and I'd painted in my new house, I ended up with all the joint supplies and therefore had a stockpile of everything from disposable dropcloths to roller refills to paint tray liners to tape, enough that I had everything I needed. I think, though, I may have placed some evil retribution on my sister, who called me after I'd crowed about my no-trip project to tell me about her own home improvement horrors in re-painting her bedroom, most notably the fact that the previous painters had, for some mysterious and unfathomable reason, painted random sections of the room in high-gloss paint. It was the exact color of the rest of the room, and it was only when the new paint wouldn't cover properly that she discovered it. She had to sand and re-paint, and claimed it was my fault. She's probably right.
I also got a lot of knitting done. A lot. I finished a second butterfly afghan, knitted a third butterfly afghan in its entirety, and knitted about 50 fish (about half of what I need) for another afghan before I got sick of fish and knitted two hats, three pairs of toddler mittens, and most of a sock. I would post pictures, but firstly, I've been lax about taking them, and secondly, I'm not able to FTP to mattachine.com at the moment. I think that Photobucket account is going to get some use.
So, there you have it. My summer in a nutshell. Which is where it likely belongs.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2004-11-16 02:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-11-16 02:14 am (UTC)My summer in a nutshell? "Oh my fucking god, what do you MEAN I'm PREGNANT?!?!?!???"
(no subject)
Date: 2004-11-17 04:15 am (UTC)So glad (and not the least surprised) to know the Boo-ster is thriving. Sorry about Sylvester (and the migraines!), but at least you found out what is wrong with him.
You are some kind of knitting demon! I just bought some yarn because our homeschooling course (yes, I have completely lost my mind, thank you) says I have to teach it to 'em, but it doesn't really say who is going to teach me!
So, there you have it. My summer in a nutshell. Which is where it likely belongs.
And just in time for the holidays! *g*
12 years at least
Date: 2004-11-18 04:47 am (UTC)So glad to hear that Boo's becoming bouncy! I was just looking at last spring's photos the other day.
Must go soon--left laundry at laundry shed. Remind me to tell you all about the island and send photos. Or you could just read my blog!
Beckee