Wisdom teeth, that is. And folly being that I didn't get this done years ago.
Well, at least this only happens once.
I don't think I could take many more days of stressing and obsessing over the possibility of dry socket.
This evening, after an especially long stint of researching dry socket and everything that could possibly go wrong after dental procedures (did you know there is a website called dentalfearcentral.com?), I coughed, and spurted out a ton of blood...which led to a call to the emergency hotline, which led to a discussion with a doctor, who said that it was normal, and to just put some gauze back in there for a while. I think my brain caused the problem, from worrying too much.
This isn't fun.
Plus I want pizza. Or a chicken caesar salad. Or a giant hamburger with tomato, ketchup and mustard, with a pickle on the side.
*sigh* And I'm stuck with liquids and yogurt. All blood-flavored.
Sorry, that's gross. Yet I feel a lot better when people know exactly how miserable I am. I like sympathy. I'll never understand people who suffer in silence. ;)
Evelyn slept a lot today, which I'll take as a personal favor...assuming she's not up all hours of the night tonight.
Or assuming she doesn't decide to do a repeat of Wednesday night's poopy adventure (see last blog post).
But after this, I should have a perfectly pain-free and enjoyable year. Anyone who gives birth and gets their wisdom teeth taken out within 7 weeks should get a clean bill of health for at least the next 12 months. Right.
Thankfully, the pain isn't bad. I'm just griping. Cuz I'm hungry.
Okay, goodnight. :)
~Briana
Friday, September 20, 2013
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Poop.
Today is brought to you by the letter C. C is for Crap.
Crap is what happened last night. ;)
So. You might have heard we have a flea problem at the VT's. Either our cat brought in a colony of fleas, or the previous owners failed to mention their flea farm in the carpet. Either way, we've been vacuuming constantly, spreading borax and flea pesticide, and trying to beat those little buggers without bombing the place.
The other day - and this will show you how I've changed into a MOM - I found a flea on my daughter's sock. And I grabbed it. WITH MY FINGERS. I don't touch bugs...but you come near my daughter? IT IS ON!
I flushed that bug right down the sink. And felt good about it. :)
So last night Andrew spread diatomaceous earth on our carpet, which resulted in billowing clouds of sea-creature exoskeleton powder. That's what diatomaceous earth is. Ew.
But it's supposed to be amazing at killing fleas, and it's non-toxic, so I feel pretty good about it.
The problem is, you don't want to get a lot of it on your skin, because it's abrasive and dries out your feet. So we were sortof exiled to our queen sized bed, which currently resides in our living room (that's another story).
As we went to bed, I got everything I needed for the night on a little table right next to the bed, so I wouldn't have to get out of bed and step on the powder. Diapers, my pump, hand sanitizer, etc.
"We only have 4 wipes left...hopefully Evelyn doesn't poop tonight." Said I, to Andrew.
HA.
It was 2:30 am. Evelyn woke up hungry, so I nursed her sitting crisscross applesauce on the bed. I put my pillow under her for extra cushion.
Then it happened. The gurgleurgleurgleurgle sound of Evie filling her pants. Oh shoot.
And it didn't stop. She kept going, and I became increasingly concerned for the welfare of her diaper. She smiled and cooed at me, as I lifted her off my pillow...and saw the yellow trademark. Blowout.
Worst one ever. I woke Andrew up and together we somehow managed to get her cleaned up, redressed in a new onesie, and my pillow removed to the laundry pile.
Wipe count: 0.
Then it was 6am. Evelyn was hungry again, so I woke up to feed her...and once again heard THE SOUND.
NOOO! We have no wipes! I have to go old-school and use a wash cloth??? Poop! Literally!
So I slipped on my flip flops and got some cloths wet and went back to the bed to face the second poopy diaper of the night.
And it was going so well...except as I removed the dirty diaper, it snagged the clean one I had placed underneath her, and at that very same moment, she decided to finish the job. All over my sheets. I moved her to a different spot on the bed, while simultaneously trying to wipe her down and avoid the diapery mess...and watched in complete awe as she continued to poop! So now we had a trail going. And I didn't have wipes. Or any help, since Andrew had left for work.
I don't know how I managed. I think I may have had celestial help, since somehow she ended up at least somewhat clean, with new clothes on.
And I had to throw the entire bedding set into the wash this morning.
Now I'm at my parent's. It's too powdery at home...we'll have to vacuum everything up and wipe everything down this evening, because tomorrow morning I get my wisdom teeth removed, and I can't recover in the dusty disrepair that is now my home.
You know? I'm gonna survive this. And I'm going to look back on this someday and laugh. :)
Actually, to be honest, it's a little funny right now. I should get a t-shirt that says "I survived September, 2013". ;)
Toodle-loo!
Crap is what happened last night. ;)
So. You might have heard we have a flea problem at the VT's. Either our cat brought in a colony of fleas, or the previous owners failed to mention their flea farm in the carpet. Either way, we've been vacuuming constantly, spreading borax and flea pesticide, and trying to beat those little buggers without bombing the place.
The other day - and this will show you how I've changed into a MOM - I found a flea on my daughter's sock. And I grabbed it. WITH MY FINGERS. I don't touch bugs...but you come near my daughter? IT IS ON!
I flushed that bug right down the sink. And felt good about it. :)
So last night Andrew spread diatomaceous earth on our carpet, which resulted in billowing clouds of sea-creature exoskeleton powder. That's what diatomaceous earth is. Ew.
But it's supposed to be amazing at killing fleas, and it's non-toxic, so I feel pretty good about it.
The problem is, you don't want to get a lot of it on your skin, because it's abrasive and dries out your feet. So we were sortof exiled to our queen sized bed, which currently resides in our living room (that's another story).
As we went to bed, I got everything I needed for the night on a little table right next to the bed, so I wouldn't have to get out of bed and step on the powder. Diapers, my pump, hand sanitizer, etc.
"We only have 4 wipes left...hopefully Evelyn doesn't poop tonight." Said I, to Andrew.
HA.
It was 2:30 am. Evelyn woke up hungry, so I nursed her sitting crisscross applesauce on the bed. I put my pillow under her for extra cushion.
Then it happened. The gurgleurgleurgleurgle sound of Evie filling her pants. Oh shoot.
And it didn't stop. She kept going, and I became increasingly concerned for the welfare of her diaper. She smiled and cooed at me, as I lifted her off my pillow...and saw the yellow trademark. Blowout.
Worst one ever. I woke Andrew up and together we somehow managed to get her cleaned up, redressed in a new onesie, and my pillow removed to the laundry pile.
Wipe count: 0.
Then it was 6am. Evelyn was hungry again, so I woke up to feed her...and once again heard THE SOUND.
NOOO! We have no wipes! I have to go old-school and use a wash cloth??? Poop! Literally!
So I slipped on my flip flops and got some cloths wet and went back to the bed to face the second poopy diaper of the night.
And it was going so well...except as I removed the dirty diaper, it snagged the clean one I had placed underneath her, and at that very same moment, she decided to finish the job. All over my sheets. I moved her to a different spot on the bed, while simultaneously trying to wipe her down and avoid the diapery mess...and watched in complete awe as she continued to poop! So now we had a trail going. And I didn't have wipes. Or any help, since Andrew had left for work.
I don't know how I managed. I think I may have had celestial help, since somehow she ended up at least somewhat clean, with new clothes on.
And I had to throw the entire bedding set into the wash this morning.
Now I'm at my parent's. It's too powdery at home...we'll have to vacuum everything up and wipe everything down this evening, because tomorrow morning I get my wisdom teeth removed, and I can't recover in the dusty disrepair that is now my home.
You know? I'm gonna survive this. And I'm going to look back on this someday and laugh. :)
Actually, to be honest, it's a little funny right now. I should get a t-shirt that says "I survived September, 2013". ;)
Toodle-loo!
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Then and Now
My little sister just started band yesterday.
Which has triggered for me a deluge of introspective musings on how life changes, and how we change through the course of time.
See, I used to be in band. Let me word that differently: I used to live FOR band. I signed up for every conceivable music class on Wednesdays (in retrospect, I realize those classes cost money. Thanks Mom and Dad! :)...Chorale, Concert Band, Bell Choir, Girl's Choir, Brass Quintet, Symphony Orchestra, and a jazzy-ish ensemble called 'Horns of Glory'. Literally - all of those in one day!
And I loved it SO much.
So when I heard that Ivey had started beginning band, I began to reminisce on old times...and what a different person I was! Well, not different...but I had a completely different life then. One of Ivey's friends said to Ivey, "Are you Briana's sister? She's like...famous!"
I laughed, because in a small sort of way, I was "famous" back then. But now? The title would never fit. Then, I couldn't wait to hang out with my friends...I dearly loved spending EVERY moment doing social things, and I had a very large group of buddies.
Flash forward 7 years, and my life has significantly condensed itself. In some ways, I would say I've become the opposite of what I used to be. Hanging out with friends not only doesn't happen very often, but it's sometimes a stressful thing to even think about beforehand.
But don't misunderstand me...I'm not unhappy. There are times that I think fondly of those carefree teenage years- and I always will- but my current contentment overshadows any longings for the "old days".
I love my little home, and my husband, and my child. I love spending my weekends with my family. I'm perfectly content with things how they are, and I'm pretty confident that as my baby (and future children) grow older, I'll start widening my horizons a bit again. Maybe hanging out with friends will once again become a big part of my life. Maybe I'll be "famous" again (hehe... a little facetiousness there for ya. Or as we say in the VanderToorn home: Fuh-shee-shushness).
(Spoiler alert: I even have a long-term goal of returning to the homeschool bands to teach someday! :)
It's just interesting to me that even just 5 years can so drastically change a person.
What will I be like in another 5 years? I'll be 30 then...probably leading passel of kiddos smeared with peanut butter and jelly remnants, juggling a baby, a diaper bag, and a grocery cart.
But what will I be LIKE? Because circumstances do not necessarily change a person, nor can they stop one from becoming something new.
Well, look at me! I did the laundry, the dishes, mopped the floor and wrote a weblog! I'm basically super woman! *pats self on back*
;)
Glad tidings of great joy! (Getting in the Christmas spirit early, due to being an elementary music teacher)
~Bri
Which has triggered for me a deluge of introspective musings on how life changes, and how we change through the course of time.
See, I used to be in band. Let me word that differently: I used to live FOR band. I signed up for every conceivable music class on Wednesdays (in retrospect, I realize those classes cost money. Thanks Mom and Dad! :)...Chorale, Concert Band, Bell Choir, Girl's Choir, Brass Quintet, Symphony Orchestra, and a jazzy-ish ensemble called 'Horns of Glory'. Literally - all of those in one day!
And I loved it SO much.
So when I heard that Ivey had started beginning band, I began to reminisce on old times...and what a different person I was! Well, not different...but I had a completely different life then. One of Ivey's friends said to Ivey, "Are you Briana's sister? She's like...famous!"
I laughed, because in a small sort of way, I was "famous" back then. But now? The title would never fit. Then, I couldn't wait to hang out with my friends...I dearly loved spending EVERY moment doing social things, and I had a very large group of buddies.
Flash forward 7 years, and my life has significantly condensed itself. In some ways, I would say I've become the opposite of what I used to be. Hanging out with friends not only doesn't happen very often, but it's sometimes a stressful thing to even think about beforehand.
But don't misunderstand me...I'm not unhappy. There are times that I think fondly of those carefree teenage years- and I always will- but my current contentment overshadows any longings for the "old days".
I love my little home, and my husband, and my child. I love spending my weekends with my family. I'm perfectly content with things how they are, and I'm pretty confident that as my baby (and future children) grow older, I'll start widening my horizons a bit again. Maybe hanging out with friends will once again become a big part of my life. Maybe I'll be "famous" again (hehe... a little facetiousness there for ya. Or as we say in the VanderToorn home: Fuh-shee-shushness).
(Spoiler alert: I even have a long-term goal of returning to the homeschool bands to teach someday! :)
It's just interesting to me that even just 5 years can so drastically change a person.
What will I be like in another 5 years? I'll be 30 then...probably leading passel of kiddos smeared with peanut butter and jelly remnants, juggling a baby, a diaper bag, and a grocery cart.
But what will I be LIKE? Because circumstances do not necessarily change a person, nor can they stop one from becoming something new.
Well, look at me! I did the laundry, the dishes, mopped the floor and wrote a weblog! I'm basically super woman! *pats self on back*
;)
Glad tidings of great joy! (Getting in the Christmas spirit early, due to being an elementary music teacher)
~Bri
Sunday, September 8, 2013
I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do!
Whenever Evelyn takes a nap (which is starting to be less frequent these days), I have a moment of panic, wherein I think of all the things that need to be done, and I'm not sure where to start.
Many times I just feel like SITTING. Just by myself, quietly, with nothing to do.
Then I notice the growing pile of laundry.
And all the laundry that I managed to DO, but not fold.
And the folded laundry that I haven't put away.
And the dishes.
And yesterday's hastily made food still on the table.
And then I realize I haven't made a decent meal for my husband in weeks.
And then I hear Evelyn stir, and her eyes pop open, and she wants me to feed/bounce/talk to her.
And then I break into hysterical, slightly crazed laughter.
;)
BUT, despite the general state of disrepair here at the VanderToorns, life is good. I LOVE being a mom! More and more, each day! I'm really starting to get the hang of things. Diapers, breastfeeding, etc.
And Evelyn's becoming more interactive each day, which is really fun. She smiles at me very often, which is evidently not very normal for a 5 week old? She makes great eye contact and she's started "talking" to me in a series of grunts, coos and squeaks. Endlessly entertaining. :)
And it's so much fun to dress her! Her head of hair is going to be increasingly fun to play with in the next months...so much hair, so little time! I'm keeping my eyes open for hair ribbons, clips, and headbands.
She's starting to make noises, which means my time is limited. I really should at least clean SOMETHING...
But there's a quick update for you. Off I go!
Many times I just feel like SITTING. Just by myself, quietly, with nothing to do.
Then I notice the growing pile of laundry.
And all the laundry that I managed to DO, but not fold.
And the folded laundry that I haven't put away.
And the dishes.
And yesterday's hastily made food still on the table.
And then I realize I haven't made a decent meal for my husband in weeks.
And then I hear Evelyn stir, and her eyes pop open, and she wants me to feed/bounce/talk to her.
And then I break into hysterical, slightly crazed laughter.
;)
BUT, despite the general state of disrepair here at the VanderToorns, life is good. I LOVE being a mom! More and more, each day! I'm really starting to get the hang of things. Diapers, breastfeeding, etc.
And Evelyn's becoming more interactive each day, which is really fun. She smiles at me very often, which is evidently not very normal for a 5 week old? She makes great eye contact and she's started "talking" to me in a series of grunts, coos and squeaks. Endlessly entertaining. :)
And it's so much fun to dress her! Her head of hair is going to be increasingly fun to play with in the next months...so much hair, so little time! I'm keeping my eyes open for hair ribbons, clips, and headbands.
She's starting to make noises, which means my time is limited. I really should at least clean SOMETHING...
But there's a quick update for you. Off I go!
Monday, September 2, 2013
Dear Evelyn,
Up to this point in my life, I would not be okay with being awake at 4am. But right now I'm nursing you, you hungry little thing, and I don't ever want to forget this moment.
It's not a particularly special 4am. It's happened many times these past weeks, and it will happen many times again. But this morning I'm struck by how much I adore you. I'm charmed and amused by your little grunts and squeaks; your unabashed enthusiasm for eating. I'm loving the little smiles you've been giving me lately, especially when you realize I'm about to nurse you. Yesterday you pulled away couple times just to give me a dopey milk-smile before getting back to business.
I love the way you stretch and yawn when you're waking up. I love that smooshy little face and crazy bed-head hair.
And I want to hold on to this moment...hold on to you forever. Notice every little movement, every expression. Every baby noise. Keep you little like this, because the thought of you getting too big for me to hold breaks my heart.
You've won me over completely, little girl. Captured my heart fully and unconditionally...somehow I was changed 4 weeks ago, and I'll never be the same.
So I'll get up with you at 4am. Every 4am, if I need to. Even when your 5 and you've had a bad dream. Or when you're 16 and you just need to talk. I'll always be there if you need me, my sweet girl.
I love you so, so much.
- Mom
I love you forever, I like you for always. As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be.
Up to this point in my life, I would not be okay with being awake at 4am. But right now I'm nursing you, you hungry little thing, and I don't ever want to forget this moment.
It's not a particularly special 4am. It's happened many times these past weeks, and it will happen many times again. But this morning I'm struck by how much I adore you. I'm charmed and amused by your little grunts and squeaks; your unabashed enthusiasm for eating. I'm loving the little smiles you've been giving me lately, especially when you realize I'm about to nurse you. Yesterday you pulled away couple times just to give me a dopey milk-smile before getting back to business.
I love the way you stretch and yawn when you're waking up. I love that smooshy little face and crazy bed-head hair.
And I want to hold on to this moment...hold on to you forever. Notice every little movement, every expression. Every baby noise. Keep you little like this, because the thought of you getting too big for me to hold breaks my heart.
You've won me over completely, little girl. Captured my heart fully and unconditionally...somehow I was changed 4 weeks ago, and I'll never be the same.
So I'll get up with you at 4am. Every 4am, if I need to. Even when your 5 and you've had a bad dream. Or when you're 16 and you just need to talk. I'll always be there if you need me, my sweet girl.
I love you so, so much.
- Mom
I love you forever, I like you for always. As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be.
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