Pumpkin Patch 2009

And you thought we didn't go!

It's been busy (I know, everyone says that) trying to get costumes and treats and pumpkins carved and decorated. And then to sit down and post?!?

This year is our 4th trip to Gene's.

Jacob and our loot.

Remember? Everything is orange.

2009

2008

2007

2006

Wishing all of you a safe and Happy Halloween! Trick OR Treat?!

Underwears

We just finished Jacob's first haircut at home, what a treat. I highly recommend everyone giving a kid with sensory processing issues a haircut. The fun part though was getting dressed. I asked Jacob to go pick out some underwear.

He said "Underwears?".

"Yes." I said.

Jacob comes out of his room with a big grin, "I'm gonna wear my toddy woddies!" (tighty-whiteys)

You can't help but smile, can you?

and saying "Good-bye"

2 weeks before Jeremy and I were married (7 years ago, 8 in April), we brought home a goofy, gray, cross-eyed, lanky kitten. He was 8 weeks old, newly neutered with a white face of the SOFTest fur. He had a gray smudge on his nose and his chin. It looked like someone had smeared paint on his face.

His name, Brady, after the QB from U of M - now the New England Patriots - Tom Brady.

He was my cat. My first real pet. That Edna couldn't give away.

We were packing for the Bahamas, for the wedding and I had to keep pulling the little snot out of my suitcase! I remember that whole week we were gone, I was worried about our new kitten being home without any grown-ups.

Brady was never a lap cat. He liked to rub against your feet or have his back scratched right above his tail. He waited for me outside the shower every morning to lick the water from my feet. I'd wake up to him sleeping in the crook of my knees and he'd jump down and wait for me to go into the bathroom. He'd mew (loud and annoying) until he was given a piece of toilet paper - to eat.

A few months ago, Brady stopped meeting me in the bathroom. He stopped sleeping in my bed. He started peeing in our basement and we knew something was wrong. We took him to the vet for a sleepover and she found crystals in his urine, meaning he has urinary tract problems. We gave him the medicines prescribed and Brady became VIOLENTLY ill! Throwing up, constantly. We stopped the meds. I bought a cat drinking fountain to give him fresh, clean water. We changed to wet food and a dry food designed to promote urinary tract health. We cleaned the basement and the litter boxes and that cat - he went right to my clean floor and he PEED!

Jeremy and I discussed options for Brady. The vet said there was nothing else she could do. We knew to take him to a shelter, they would eventually put him down. We knew we couldn't give him to someone else - who wants a peeing cat? We knew we couldn't send him to a farm as he's always been an indoor cat, he's declawed for Pete's sake!

Tuesday, October 20, 2009. I took this last picture of my cat.

I packed him in his carrier and Jeremy drove us to the vet's office. I hadn't planned to go in but, I couldn't leave him there alone. I knelt on the floor while my cat lay on the cold metal table. They gave him an injection to calm him and he put his head down with his tongue sticking out. The vet came back to give Brady the lethal dose and I sat with my cat, petting his head, bawling giant tears and apologizing to him for my failure to make him better. They left us alone with him while he died. The vet's assistant popped back with a box of Kleenex for me.

The vet came back a few minutes later with a stethoscope, checked Brady's heart and said, "He's gone.", I cried even harder and I couldn't leave him. Finally, Jeremy said, "It's time to go, honey, he's gone". We left the room and left my cat there alone and dead. I looked back as we walked out and I cried harder for Brady, to have to leave him there, alone. I shouldn't have looked back as all I can see is my cat - dead, on that table.

My house seems empty now that Brady is gone. Woody, my other cat, still cries for him so he can eat - Brady always ate first. Brady used the box first. Brady did everything first and Woody had to wait. I keep listening for his 19 lb. body thumping up the stairs but, he doesn't come.

I try not to think of what happened to Brady after we left the vet office. How the vet 'disposed' of him. We couldn't bury him at home (our house is built on an old cement dump and we can't dig that deep). I didn't want ashes. Maybe I don't want to know.

Jacob came into the bathroom this morning and told me that Brady died and he's in kitty heaven. I hope Brady's spirit is happy in kitty heaven. I hope he's chasing rubber bands and eating toilet paper. I wish he was still home, with me. I sure miss him!

Moving On

I'm still here. We've been on 'vacation' this week and honestly, I don't know where the time went. I do have some highlights from this past week and I'll get to those soon. I wanted to say some things regarding my last post though.

I used to think that infertility was something you got through or got over, maybe got past and I'm learning that it's really just something to live with. It's always going to be here. It's always going to be a part of me. Some days it's more of a silent partner. It's there but doesn't say or do much with my day to day responsibility. Some days, it wants to be the spoiled brat and jump out in front every chance it gets. It rips things from my grasp and takes them far away and it hides them. It doesn't share or play nice with others. It just wants center stage.

I've found more and more that it's really not events or pregnant women who bring it out. It's stupid people. People that are so busy painting pictures to see what their life is really like. People who are too ignorant to realize that there are better things in life than what other people see. People who only care about themselves or their own, with no regard to any one else - even their own children. And of course, those people, whom we all agree should have NEVER been blessed with children in the first place! Too, maybe I need to work on avoiding those triggers...

Really, though? After 7 years of this, I think I get to feel bad and be hurt once in a while. Why did I think I couldn't show it?

I'm not going to hide for comfort's sake anymore. If it hurts, this is my space to have that hurt. The place where I can leave it, safely. I don't want you to worry about me or feel bad for me. Please, don't feel sorry for me. Just know that I'm a little hurt, and I'll be back. I'll move on, again.

Plan? What Plan?

I'm not one to cry. I try to avoid it. I try to hold it back. I try to swallow my tears and get past all the shit. I hate the tight feeling around the eyes - the one that comes after you couldn't hold back any longer.

Why do people find it so hard to understand why we infertiles hurt? Why do we have to pretend that we're okay ALL of the time? We're not allowed to hurt once in awhile? Why do you want to change the subject? Why can't you just let us hurt? Why can't you talk to us about our hurt? Why can't you just let us cry? Why can't you hold us while we do?

I think that I have come to pretty good terms with our infertility - 99% of the time. I really, don't think about it much anymore. It doesn't consume my life anymore. I am able to be genuinely happy (thrilled!) for my friends who have had children or are carrying children. I like babies and baby showers. It's not an act.

I cherish my child. My Jacob. He is my life. He is my light. He is my son. My heart is full. I'm thankful, every day I'm thankful to have my son. I know how blessed I truly am.

But.

There are always the days when infertility just IS NOT FAIR! There are days when I just can't seem to move that hurt out of my way.

It's not fair that women have child after child that they leave behind.

It's not fair that women dump their children off on the grandparents every chance they get.

It's not fair that women dump their children off on the grandparents to raise these kids.

It's not fair that women are too busy to read to the children they have.

It's not fair that women are ignorant to their children and their needs.

It's not fair that women don't take steps to get proper health care for their children.

It's not fair that women don't ask questions and push for what's best for their children rather than what they want for them to be.

It's not fair that women are lazy and don't pay attention to where their kids are or what they're doing.

It's not fair that women don't let their children grow up. (i.e. don't wean from the bottle, don't pottie train, keep pacifiers until the kid is 10).

It's not fair that women continue to smoke cigarettes, dope, and coke (I don't know - do you smoke it?), or drink while they're pregnant.

It's not fair that women beat and abuse their children or let their men do it.

It's not FAIR! I'm not any of those things, yet I, I CANNOT CARRY A CHILD!

It's not fair that you walk past me and refuse to acknowledge when I do hurt.

It's not fair that I have to watch you not appreciate your children.

It's not fair that I have to see you not be a parent to your child.

It's not fair that you complain to me that your children are so naughty. Yet, I'm too strict.

It's not fair that you can never, once consider how I might feel.

It's not fair that you never give me the chance to tell you.

Edna reminded me this morning, through my tears, that I am truly blessed. And I know I am. I have a beautiful, precocious and precious little boy. God was certainly looking out for me and for Jacob. Yes, I was actually comforted by my mother.

I try so hard to do all of the right things with my son. I try to make as many special moments with him as I can. This is my only shot at this. It has to be a good one. It has to be right. It has to be as close to perfect as I can get. Most don't understand. Most think they can just have another child. And I can't. Some ask us if we'll adopt again. I believe that is God's plan.

Sometimes, the hardest thing about all this, is that it simply is God's plan.

Food Rules

I don't think I'm a picky eater. I like food. I do. I just have certain rules about food. I'm picky about what goes together or how it's prepared. I don't know where or how I picked up these rules. Edna does not have these rules...maybe they came up in response to her cooking....hmmm, I think that's what happened.

For instance:

I do NOT prepare meals from boxes. Potato flakes, hamburger helper, pasta salads, or pot pies - yes. No TV dinners. No prepacked meat shaped patties. No lasagna from a box. Blech! They taste like the box!

BBQ sauce has NO business on hamburgers. And never on a hot dog!

BBQ sauce is for chicken or pork. BBQ beef sandwiches (like pulled pork) are OK.

Sweet Baby Ray's is the only BBQ sauce that exists.

Ketchup is the perfect accompaniment for beef roast, meatloaf, and bologna.

Hot dogs MUST have buns. Hamburgers MUST have buns - not bread!

Relish is for hot dogs. Pickles are for hamburgers.

Eggs must have hard yolks when fried and scrambled eggs cannot be WET.

Bacon should never be hard or any color close to black.

Toast should be a crisp, light brown.

I prefer sandwiches not to be toasted.

Mayonnaise is for sandwiches. Miracle Whip is for salads. Except for tomato sandwiches!

Only milk in tomato soup!

Grilled cheese can only be cut on the diagonal. Every other sandwich has to be halved.

Bread butts are not to be consumed by humans!

Steak is medium rare to medium. Never, never, never, well done.

Cooked tuna fish (i.e. tuna casserole, tuna helper, creamed tuna on toast) is AWFUL!

Wavy chips are for dip - plain chips are not.

Salsa is NOT a substitute for ketchup nor is ketchup a sub for salsa!

Gravy does not belong on turkey. That's where the cranberry sauce goes.

Gravy is STRICTLY for potatoes.

Candy Corn is yellow, orange, and white. Anything else is NOT candy corn.

Nuts. Nuts have no business being in food. They belong in a can, not in my brownies, not in my cookies, and not in my bread either!

Chili is RED not WHITE - saltine crackers and cheddar cheese ARE required!

Most spaghetti sauce requires sugar. It's preferred WITHOUT meat.

Tacos belong in soft shells.

Ortega is the only taco seasoning in existence.

Yes, I do prefer for the food on my plate NOT to touch yet, I don't freak if it does.

Now Jeremy, Jeremy has one food rule - no cherries.

And Jacob - Jacob's rule is to just not eat anything anyone else does.

Edit and Crop

During the home tour with my sister in Marshall, one house we toured was a little odd. The interior was mostly white. White walls, white trim, white furniture, white, white, white. Of course, there were some splashes of color in large pieces of artwork, throw pillows, and rugs.

The dining room in this house really caught me. Again, it was all white. On the large wall was a floor to ceiling painting. On the wall to my right was a large white, wooden stand with a lt. blue beach glass vase holding some branches with crystals hanging from them. And on the wall behind were different serving platters and some framed photos of plants and flowers. I said to my sister - I can do that!

After we left this house, I was on a quest for white flowers. And I found some.

I have a little cropping and editing to do with them but, they're to go in my bedroom when I'm done with my new quilt and I'll post some pictures of that fabric very soon.

"Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star"

Making Changes - Confessions for Week 4

Wow! 1 month in. I'm getting a lot better at this. It's easier every week to say "No, we don't really need that." I'm beginning to feel like I don't need a lot of things. Or need to buy more things. I've really worked at sticking to limits. I do believe it's paying off.

Our mouse died. For the computer that is.

We got rid of the fleas.

I bought lunch once this week.

New waterproof mattress pads for Jacob's big boy bed.

I went to the consignment store and didn't buy even 1 thing!

I had brought a specific amount of cash money for our trip last weekend. We had enough left to order pizza when we got home AND there's still $20 on the kitchen counter! We didn't really hold back on the trip - we went for coffee every chance we had.

The best thing about this week - it's not like I'm really saying "no" anymore. It's that I don't need to.