tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117677082024-03-12T20:23:00.726-04:00Randomnesswelcome to the simple complexities of my mind...Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.comBlogger159125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-1638330217546039742009-01-25T23:18:00.002-05:002009-01-25T23:21:33.598-05:00Bye Bye BloggyMay You Rest In Peace...<br /><br />I will no longer post blogs here. I will however close delete everything on here sometime soon. When I get a chance too... other than that... I have started a wordpress. Though I won't be sharing the link to it here. I WILL comment on others blogs whom I do read and let them know where my new bloggy is.<br /><br />So for now... enjoy your wake Randomness. I'll be burying you soon enough.Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-41923221173979959082008-09-03T00:13:00.003-04:002008-09-03T00:21:48.941-04:00Hard Hat Zone -Under Constructon...<div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#33ccff;">Hard Hat Zone</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#33ccff;">Under Construction</span></strong></div><span style="color:#33ccff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ccff;">Sooo ok... I was toying with the idea of letting this blog rest in peace. Then I toyed with the idea of moving said blog, trying WordPress which I know many blogs I currently read use.<br /><br />Sooo.... ok... for now... I will remodel... because there are times in life where I honestly see change as a good thing. Like I know sometimes, I just get this urge to get a hair cut. Honestly, it's an URGE. Like really... I kid you not. And I will then randomly come home... and my dear hubs will find my hair chopped off.<br /><br />Likewise... this blog needs to be redone. Considering when I tried my hand at HTML the last time, I made an error. I think I can honestly do better. PLUS... I like this picture. It kinda is a bit more... I dunno... <strong>ME</strong>.<br /><br />Soooooooooooo.... I will give this another go. I personally like this background... I just don't like the fact that I can't get any comments anymore. Not like I had a bunch to begin with... but hey.. I liked that I had an option.<br /><br />Anywhoo... bear with me... and we'll see what comes up as a result of this change.</span>Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-83778033199379367912008-08-25T21:51:00.003-04:002008-08-25T22:27:32.895-04:00Update of Randomness...So, I have been remiss in my duties with my blog. Not like anyone reads it anymore. However I am thinking of maybe starting all over again... It's just... I've had this one for forever almost... well we'll see.<br /><br />Beyond that... things are going well. I guess.<br /><br />1. My son -Growing soooooo freakin fast. He's in the 90% for babies. Only 10% of babies his age are bigger than him and he's expected to be at least, and I say AT LEAST, 6 ft tall. That's what his doctor says at least. He's got teeth and is almost walking and I can barely even lift the kid without getting winded. But he's such a happy baby that my mother told me she'd smack the crap out of me if he grows up to be a total grumpy pain in the ass.<br /><br />2. I was supposed to start school but I didn't. I'll have to wait. WHY? Oh my pain in the ass father in law aka FIL. He's eaten us out of house and home. Literally. No joke. I mean he really ate and still is eating... like EVERYTHING.<br /><br />I am a happy eater. So is my son. Apparently, the FIL is just a freakin p-i-g. My hubs and I spend around 200-250 a month on groceries. I mean no joke. That's pretty good eh? And with a baby too! However in the last two weeks I have had to fork over $500 bucks on food alone. I mean really. Five. Freakin'. Hundred. Dollars. Are you kidding me??????????<br /><br />And what? You probably say, "Let him pay for his share." What share? He's got like 15 bucks in his account thanks to his good for nothing son (my bro-in-law now my hubs). BIL stole from FIL and now his accounts are in chaos and he's living here. Crazeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.<br /><br />But the added expense of FIL in the household is seriously a total PITA (pain in the ass!). I would say it would be nice to pawn maybe a kidney or two from the FIL... he can survive with just one! But even that won't be worth much. Now I digress, due to him, I'm not in school. The son of a freakin......................................................... Sorry that was me breathing. Hoping to calm down some.<br /><br />Let's move to another topic.<br /><br />3. I can't think of another topic. Therefore, you're all going to get my first thought where I considered letting this blog rest in peace. Eh... who knows... it might survive to tell another tale. None the less, the kidlet is seriously waking up... I don't know why. But I have to make sure his butt stays in bed.Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-9135744656197105542008-08-07T05:42:00.001-04:002008-08-07T05:43:51.175-04:00Doomed...Yes I'm doomed... I have a sign on my back...<br /><br />Whatever... I hate when a perfect day gets ruined by a single phone call at night. Blast it all...Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-23830266689103853312008-06-11T21:23:00.002-04:002008-06-11T21:30:04.348-04:00Yippee!!!So it took a little less than 2 months for me to get back to my normal size after giving birth to my son.<br /><br />But REJOICE!!! I'm not only back to wearing SMALLs again, I'm back to wearing my favorite pair of jeans!<br /><br />Today at the store I find a cute little pair of skorts (shorts underneath but it looks and has the appearance of a skirt) size 4. I was originally looking for a pair of size 6 but sad to say they had none. That infamous lightbulb then hit me. I was wearing a pair of size 6 jeans that happened to be really and I mean REALLY loose. Sooooo I decide to try on the size 4. And voila! They fit!!!!! And comfortably too.<br /><br />Now my favorite pair of jeans, I hadn't been able to fit into since I was like 2 months pregnant. I got home and thought to myself... might as well give THEM a try. Hahahaha they fit too! Size 5 in juniors. My favorite. And they fit again!<br /><br />REJOICE!Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-34459234727616690432008-05-19T01:12:00.003-04:002008-05-19T02:03:03.632-04:00I Apparently Almost Died???I've been sick.<br /><br />Like for this past week, I've done nothing much but be in bed -<strong>sick</strong>. I hate that kind of <strong>sick</strong>.<br /><br />Anyhow, so last weekend starts. Starts off to be a nice one with my family. But for some odd reason I did a LOT and I mean a LOT of sleeping. My husband kept looking at me like a sloth. I'd glare at him. Leave him with the baby. Roll over and commence my sleeping. I'm a very good sleeper.<br /><br />Until 2 pm hit and I was still tired and sleeping. Ah, the infamous <span style="color:#ffff33;"><strong>light bulb</strong></span>! we all realized I was not feeling well. Sunday... Mother's day... MY day... I started to have difficulty swallowing. Not good. But I have come to realize this as a normal sign (unfortunately).<br /><br />Cue the fade out into memory-ville.<br /><br />You see, I was born with tonsillitis. While pregnant with me, my mom's tonsils got badly infected. She in fact, had to have them removed after giving birth to me. Hence, from day 1, my tonsils have literally been swollen. I grew up with doctors contemplating removing them. "But she's so young," they'd all say and I'd end up with antibiotics to take. It ended up being an annoying cycle that during my teenage years I said, "Screw it! They're not going to do a thing about it besides give me more antibiotics."<br /><br />So my tonsils were infected... <em>AGAIN</em>... Come Tuesday I felt sick to the point that I actually go to the doctor's. Light-headed, dizzy, can't swallow a thing, can't talk. There, the nurse jams a Q-tip down my throat and literally blocks my air passage. <strong>THAT IS HOW BADLY SWOLLEN THESE BEASTS ARE</strong>. Stupid Q-tip blocks my oxygen.<br /><br />Well... they refer me to an ENT (Ear, Nose, Throat) doctor who will discuss getting them OUT. And proceed to give me three injections. One a very potent penicillin, which feels like glue was being injected into me. One was a pain killer. And the third was an antibiotic.<br /><br />Now I'm not squeamish. I handle needles and shots very well. But after all that crap, I got SO dizzy the nursing staff had me laying down and called Jon to pick me up. Even after I told them all I was FINE. They refused to let me do much of anything.<br /><br />Well an hour or two later I'm no longer dizzy and those injections actually worked to the point that I was able to swallow my own spit without any pain. Yay! (But those injections were so freakin thick my hips hurt for like 4 days after that! I felt like an old woman. Sigh.)<br /><br />So I think I'm on the verge of recovery. The next day I was even able to move about without dizziness or lightheaded-ness. But it was a <em>TEASE</em>! A <strong><em>TEASE</em></strong> I say!<br /><br />Because on Thursday... Thursday was apparently my almost death day. I don't know what happened but I got worse.<br /><br />I remember dragging myself out of bed to change the baby. Dragging myself to feed the baby. It was 75 degrees in the house and I felt like it was cold. Of course I realized I had a fever. Which sucked because my son kept trying to get my attention. All I know is, it was around 4:30 (because this show I watch always comes on at 4:30)... I fed the baby and set him down for his nap besides me. Even to this day he loves getting swaddled, so I swaddled him. (Also keeps him from rolling while he's sleeping I tell you what!) And I lay down too.<br /><br />Now the next bit of stuff is well pretty much secondhand... I don't recall... well... like 99% of it.<br /><br />Jon comes home about 5: 30 and hears the baby crying as loud as he could. Considering the baby is right next me, I wasn't moving an inch.<br /><br />Jon says my name. No response. He says my name again. Still no response. He calls my name one more time. Nothing. Well he said he started shouting my name and got nothing out of me. He runs to my side of the bed and grabs me and I finally react but was totally incoherent and pathetically lethargic. He said I was burning up. He jammed a thermometer in my mouth and it read 102.7 degrees. Loverly isn't it? He said he forced me to take some fever reducers and then tried to have me drink more water but I kept refusing the water. He said he was on the verge of panic.<br /><br />He then literally carries me into the bathroom (now this I do remember) and tries to get me into a tub of cold water where I screamed over and over while crying, "It's COLD! It's COLD!" Jon later told me that the water was really lukewarm but to me it felt ice cold. And I wasn't just crying but I was bawling like a little baby. I apparently was having none of that either. He then carries me to the bedroom and I pretty much pass out. He said he checked my temperature again though and it kept dropping after whatever he did.<br /><br />All I know is I woke up around 10 pm that night the baby was already snug as a bug in his crib and Jon jumped to alert when he heard me moving. I was thankfully more coherent that time albeit exhausted and still not well.<br /><br />But I'll remember this because Jon then says to me, "Don't ever scare me like that again! I thought you DIED. The baby was wailing and you didn't hear him. I was SHOUTING your name and you didn't... I was panicking, thinking I might have to take you to the ER, or I might have to give you an emergency tracheotomy. I kept checking your tonsils to make sure you could breathe. You wouldn't hydrate yourself, you wouldn't go in the tub. You looked like you were dead! I had to put my hand on your chest to see if you were still breathing... I thought I lost you."<br /><br />I'm ok now. No more fever here, thank goodness. <em>And I love my husband.</em><br /><em></em><br />P.S. Damn tonsils!Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-41332829406537005062008-05-11T18:54:00.002-04:002008-05-11T18:57:24.950-04:00Happy Mother's Day...<div align="center">to <strong><em>ME!!! </em></strong></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">A very very Happy Mother's Day to <strong><em>ME!</em></strong></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">Oh... and to my mom and my sister and my grandmothers, and EVERY Mom out there!</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">We kick butt!</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">Happy Mother's Day Moms!</div>Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-73808745381521100532008-05-08T15:41:00.001-04:002008-05-08T15:42:44.710-04:00I Figured It Was Time For a Change...Soo... we'll see how this goes... I don't really care for pink stars too much... but hey... I didn't have that much of a choice...Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-71144458055416355522008-05-05T12:29:00.003-04:002008-05-05T12:38:57.773-04:00I Kill Trees...Now I don't go around wasting paper or any shiz like that. But I have come to realize... I still unfortunately kill trees. Poor, poor trees.<br /><br />My son can poop once and I'll have to use how many wipes on his dirty litte butt. And I'll go through a whole containing of wipes without blinking an eye. Poor, poor trees.<br /><br />Tissues too! Here's this snotty, drooling baby and a box of tissues will disappear as fast as you can say, "Crikey".<br /><br />Sorry trees! But as a mom which should I care for more??? My son's butt? Or the amount of wipes I'm going through? It'll be his butt. It's only going to be baby soft for a short time in his life. So I say let him enjoy a smooth butt without rashes.<br /><br />I promise to make sure my son plants a few seeds when he's old enough to realize that the seed goes in the ground and not in his mouth. (I would like to avoid any and all choking incidents as possible...) So you'll have to wait a few years.Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-20169014530940524842008-04-27T16:11:00.003-04:002008-04-27T16:35:49.342-04:00My Very First Auction...Well... as the title reads, I went to my very first auction ever. Our church youth had a benefit auction so they can go to a camp in Colorado. A bunch of the members donated things, gift baskets, food and what not and invited the town to an auction annnnnnnnnnd I went.<br /><br />As I arrived I was given luckly number 7 to make my purchases. They had asked this guy to be the auctioneer... they all said he was a pro at it. At first I thought they were all insane because when he was telling the crowd who he was he was talking soooooooooo slow, I could barely stay awake. But when he started the auction he then started talking so fast I could barely keep up.<br /><br />Now what did I get away with???<br /><br />Well...........<br /><br />I got an applie pie. It was good stuff. I also got a few dishes including a 16 piece set decorated for Christmas.<br /><br />Now... the most interesting things I got were as follows:<br /><br />This 1950's Kodak Brownie Hawkeye Flash Camera with Flash for it's original purchase price of $1. Hahahahaha. Go me. I guess another man's junk is another person's treasure. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwU6nyHIAxPFvaxHwNzl01Dho9GaPayLE_IEBmDVlbyr8eHEKItWbhi1V1_bAPoOV3vkWeVmEi06mrqJR_T4QV7NyICT6UTrpXacfN_L4HJZzgZoNh7Jh3O5rjRVr3CFzHgPsS/s1600-h/1586.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194021956256094386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwU6nyHIAxPFvaxHwNzl01Dho9GaPayLE_IEBmDVlbyr8eHEKItWbhi1V1_bAPoOV3vkWeVmEi06mrqJR_T4QV7NyICT6UTrpXacfN_L4HJZzgZoNh7Jh3O5rjRVr3CFzHgPsS/s320/1586.jpg" border="0" /></a> I also got this really cool picinic basket with picnic blanket, tarp and silverware inside. And I got a framed copy of a signed picture of Babe Ruth (which my husband gave away to this kid who desperately wanted it but couldn't afford squat and looked longingly at the stupid thing... I'm annoyed at him because we just purchased the darn thing though at the same time I'm deeply impressed and moved with his generousity... those two emotions are warring with each other at the moment)........ and last but oh definitely not least... I got 7... hahaha lucky number 7 again... 7 girls.<br /><br />Now before anyone goes freakin out! The church isn't selling slaves or girls for bad reasons or nothing... no... the youth were raising the money... therefore they were also offering certain services such as BABYSITTING, HOUSE CHORES, WASHING THE CAR, GARDENING/MOWING THE LAWN, and CLEANING. Each said they would do work for 4 hours and that was auctioned off.<br /><br />Well... seeing as I have gotten to know quite a few of these girls... and seeing as these said girls adore my son... and seeing as I don't get to spend much time with Jon... and seeing as my family is all in Southern California... we got ourselves some babysitters. :)<br /><br />So... for my very first auction... it was great... :)<br /><br /><div></div><div> </div>Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-34974372134805126462008-04-26T14:03:00.003-04:002008-04-26T14:25:05.408-04:00Honestly... It's Just One of THOSE Times...<span style="color:#ff0000;">So for the last few weeks I have been looking forward to today. For the first time ever... we got family pictures taken... and actually... now that I think about it... for the first time... someone actually took the picture of my husband, baby and me <strong><span style="color:#ffffff;">-together</span></strong>. We've had father-son pictures, mother-son... but never mom, dad and baby together. Hmmm just took us <strong><span style="color:#ffffff;">5 months</span></strong> to do so.<br /><br />Sooooo... the pictures were fine... really good actually. It was after when my husband realized how much it was that everything started to spoil. Ok, I take that back. It wasn't the pictures itself. It was this stupid picture CD. The studio offered us the sale of a picture CD containing all the pictures that were taken including enhancements, etc as well as the rights to make copies of such pictures. I originally thought the CD was cheaper than it was but when Jon found out the stupid thing cost 100 bucks he wasn't pleased. Like at all. Like he was over-reacting mad. Pissed. Steaming. <span style="color:#ffffff;"><strong>Whatever!</strong></span><br /><br />The lady even told us we got a discount because of the package I got and the CD ended up being only $40. But did that make him happy? Of course not. He complained about it. And complained about it. Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd <span style="color:#ffffff;"><strong>complained</strong></span> about it.<br /><br />Now at first I felt bad. Like guilty bad. "Man I shouldn't have been so extravagant and gotten that CD." I was apologizing over and over. Then once he realized how I was feeling, he started to say, "But it's ok. If you're happy, I'm happy. It was just that CD. I mean we spent $40 on a CD. A picture CD."<br /><br />Ok. Now I'm mad. I mean it's not like we spend $50 on a stupid video game for the 360 at all. Or $20 for a freakin DVD all the freakin time. Nooooo... but a picture CD... one containing the stupid pictures that I have been looking forward to since I found out I got pregnant???? <span style="color:#ffffff;"><strong>Oh PARDON FREAKIN' ME!</strong></span> I mean these are the first family portraits we've ever taken. And I was looking forwards to these for the longest time. Why the crap did he have to be such a kill joy??? Add to that my son then throws a sh*t fit once we got home.<br /><br />So sorry world. I just wanted stupid pictures! And sorry world for buying the stupid CD...</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">I might as well put the stupid CD in the computer and get my money's worth.</span>Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-43463581900245822112008-04-24T06:20:00.004-04:002008-04-24T12:38:13.757-04:00I Hate Pacifiers...Yes, it's really all in the title.<br /><br /><br />I hate, abhor, detest <em>pacifiers.</em><br /><br /><br />Who ever came up with the word "<em>binky</em>" for a freakin' pacifier anyway??? I have never called a pacifier a "binky" and to be honest I refuse to. It's almost a pet peeve when I hear people say, "Do you want your 'binky'?" No. It's a pacifier. Pa-ci-fi-errrrrrrrrrr. When I hear "binky", it's like when my nieces were first learning to talk and that's what they called their "blanket" because they couldn't pronounce "blanket" so instead referred to it as "binky". Not pacifier.<br /><br />If people want me to shorten the word "pacifier" or abbreviate it in anyway, (because you know four syllables is definitely waaaaaaaaaaaaay too long apparently) I'll say "paci". Why? Because it's a PACIFIER. You use it to PACIFY a baby. I don't give a "binky" to my child to "bink" him in any way shape or form.<br /><br /><br />Now, back to why I hate this tiny plastic object. "Babies have a natural sucking reflex when they are born." You are correct, sir! Buuuuuuut... babies are ALSO creatures of habit and do NOT like change. I mean -at al. Nada. Zip. Zero. Zilch.<br /><br /><br />So here is this baby. A creature of absolute comfort. And his "pacifier" brings him lots of comfort. I mean oodles and oodles of comfort. Awww. Sweetness. Now... try to take that pacifier away... and that sweetness automatically turns... well... sour.<br /><br /><br />And I fully blame the Soothie pacifiers. As much as I hate it, I acknowledge that it is the best freakin' pacifier ever. Why? Well, that was the pacifier they gave him at the hospital he was born in. It's like the epitome of pacifiers that doctors and nurses nation wide swear by it and parents have to then buy it because their kids want it. So when we got home, he refused ALL other pacifiers and only accepted the Soothie one. Well, I had no clue that I could buy those pacifiers at Wal-mart. So here I was thinking this was the only pacifier he would take and I had no clue where to get more. Now what happens? He loses it. Seeing as I had no clue where to buy more, I order it online and have it expressed to the house. For those 2 days, my son threw a perpetual fit, refusing any other pacifier, wanting only that stupid Soothie one. Then the very day they arrived, I find out they sold it at Wal-mart. Go figure.<br /><br />But honestly... a pacifier for a baby can be like crack to an adult. It's baby crack. Why???? It can be soooooooooooooooooooooo darn addictive! My son refuses to go to sleep without it. Try putting him down for a nap without his Soothie pacifier. Damn that pacifier, it had to be sooo good. He'll thrash and thrash and search and search. I mean with the pacifier, he'll fall asleep within 15 minutes. Without the pacifier it'll take at least a full hour of hearing him cry until he is so exhausted he finally just falls asleep. Soooooooooooo, to try and break the habit of the pacifier aka "baby crack" we had to go cold turkey.<br /><br />All I have to say is this. Damn that pacifier and damn you Soothie!!!Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-635956774317121752008-04-15T04:40:00.003-04:002008-04-15T04:51:08.787-04:00A Stray Magnet...So, I find that I have a habit of finding random stray animals. This little guy was just abandoned on the side of the road. Rescuers think that someone's dog might have had one too many pups because this guy was barely weaned. In fact he's still teething. (OMG... 2 teething mammals in the house!) <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDgMjwXLkW3nVyxK427w5d16-myBlVpvS6bTD3ku4K0RW-tygO-sRWp8knOERQ4GiER2iyAy-mbRQTpg8eUucfLlmAlRySXVulhXJPssXi-t4eNFAHPyvYbYo0f1ZwIoFwVuOZ/s1600-h/100_1061.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189390154592836242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDgMjwXLkW3nVyxK427w5d16-myBlVpvS6bTD3ku4K0RW-tygO-sRWp8knOERQ4GiER2iyAy-mbRQTpg8eUucfLlmAlRySXVulhXJPssXi-t4eNFAHPyvYbYo0f1ZwIoFwVuOZ/s320/100_1061.JPG" border="0" /></a> Barely 3 1/2 lbs. He's a random mix of small dogs that the vet thinks he won't grow bigger than 6 or 7 lbs. So he's truly a Caden sized dog. Considering they're both babies, my son will now have a pet pup that will grow with him.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie63QDXGp2G4EVNIv4TCbIsRKs2_3rXwe_7OBbl_IFepmUjT5W9k8VYVmj3arrnVhP-_VJ4ED3eiFc4iEWxjUnrSm-AUTjweE_ljpHpg1Urr-niVlyv6kVF1574yIcglyCTbOl/s1600-h/100_1062.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189390158887803554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie63QDXGp2G4EVNIv4TCbIsRKs2_3rXwe_7OBbl_IFepmUjT5W9k8VYVmj3arrnVhP-_VJ4ED3eiFc4iEWxjUnrSm-AUTjweE_ljpHpg1Urr-niVlyv6kVF1574yIcglyCTbOl/s320/100_1062.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Sigh... that makes a total of 2 adults, 1 baby, 2 cats and now a pup... I swear, we're drawing the line now... Thank heavens I already potty-trained him. Now if only my son would potty-train as quickly.</div>Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-3365685041381790212008-03-26T19:57:00.003-04:002008-03-26T21:15:40.691-04:00He Gets His Revenge...My son <strong><em>ALWAYS </em></strong>gets his revenge.<br /><br />I could have him do tummy time** for 15 minutes. (And he absolutely HATES tummy time with a capitol "H".) Then I will pick him up to soothe and comfort him and what? He throws up on me.<br /><br />I could leave him alone for a minute to prepare a bottle that he's been HOWLING for. And when I present it to him he'll refuse it for a good 10 minutes.<br /><br />I could give him a bath, get him powdered, lotioned and wiped down so he's all clean and smells nice. He'll then have a poopie diaper and spit up on his clean clothes.<br /><br />Today however... I was trying to clip his tiny little nails. He's such a fidgety thing I have difficulty doing it and dislike it almost to the point of disliking clipping a kitten's sharp claws. Almost but not quite there... <em>yet.</em><br /><em></em><br />Why? Because of the fact that he refuses to hold still for a period longer than 5 seconds... unless he's sleeping... I have to hold his arm down and grasp his tiny little hand firmly so I can clip his little claws... -ah I mean... nails... clip his sharp little nails. And what does my stubborn hippo do???<br /><br />He grabs and pulls my hair... then pulls me close. And sneezes... not once... but twice... one after another right in my face.<br /><br />Oh... the joys of motherhood.<br /><br />**For those of you who don't know... or simply can't get the meaning out of the words... "tummy time" is an exercise for infants where the parent places the child on his stomach to strengthen his neck, shoulder, and hip muscles, not to mention a few others but mainly those.Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-80074452703951677582008-03-25T06:01:00.006-04:002008-03-25T06:59:14.640-04:00There's a BABY in the CAR... but Now My Son Has Fundage...So yeah, I probably should start at the beginning... Unlike when I called my best friend up thinking I had already told her the story from the very beginning... yeah my memory totally went astray as soon as the kiddo arrived and still has yet to return to me... If anyone finds it please let me know...<br /><br />But I digress. Where was I? Right. See? The memory thing again. Anyway, I called my best friend up and left a message on her voice mail saying, "Hey, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Caden</span> and I are fine from the accident, so no worries. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">EMTs</span> said he was good to go." Well she calls me the next day and I'm all talking to her as if she already knew what was going on. Poor thing, my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">befuddled</span> mind <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">befuddled</span> her. All she could say was, "What?!"<br /><br />So... as I was going to do... let me start at the beginning.<br /><br />I was in California with the baby, right? Right. Mmm'kay moving on. Well my folks were dropping off said baby and I to the airport so we could get home to my dearly devoted husband. It was raining pretty heavily for Southern California. (Suprising I know, but Southern California does on occassion get bad weather.) It was also 5:30 in the morning, we had a 6:30 flight and I had already checked in the night before so I had my boarding passes and everything and was pretty much ready and good to go.<br /><br />Well, right as my dad was stopped at a light RIGHT OUTSIDE THE AIRPORT, this woman rams us from behind. I was looking at my son at the time the impact happened, thank God he was safe and sound and barely moved unlike the rest of us in the car who unfortunately enjoyed the fun of whiplash. He was all snuggled in his snowsuit (ready for the flight and weather upon arriving at our destination) and tucked in his carrier carseat. (I LOVE CARSEATS! THOSE FIVE POINT HARNESSES ARE AWESOME! Parents who don't use carseats are freakin' morons.)<br /><br />Now as I said, it was 5:30 in the freakin' morning. We were set to go home. And this woman happened to be rushing to catch her 6 am flight. While it was raining. And no she didn't check-in in advance. Yeah.... first thing I could say after impact was, "THERE'S A BABY IN THE CAR!"<br /><br />My dad openned his door and repeated, "THERE'S A BABY IN THE CAR!"<br /><br />The woman acknowledged and said she'd follow us. Upon parking, directly in front of my terminal mind you, my mother opens her door and repeats for the third time, "THERE'S A BABY IN THE CAR!"<br /><br />Lesson 1. You shouldn't be rushing in the rain.<br />Lesson 2. You shouldn't be trying to catch a 6 am flight at 5:30 in the morning.<br />Lesson 3. THERE'S A BABY IN THE FRIGGIN' CAR.<br /><br />The police were called. The EMTs checked out my son. He was ok. Happy-go-lucky. Just sleepy because his nap was interrupted by the accident when the sound of metal hitting metal woke him up and jerked his little head. But my son was still a trooper. Of course the police were super nice to <strong><em>us. </em></strong>I mean <strong><em>there was a baby in the </em>car</strong>. Not so much to that woman though. She missed her flight altogether. Big surprise there.<br /><br />Caden and I however, had police escort through security. Yeah, different eh? The police informed Continental that we were just in an accident. So what did Continental do? Bless them. The check-in guy himself went to my gate and told them my situation. Met me at security and carried all my stuff for me on to the plane. They had already started paging us as the last passengers for "final boarding call" and what not, but they still held departure back about 10 minutes so the baby and I could board the plane. Of course we were the last ones on the plane, and everyone was apparently waiting on us seeing as the captain made it known that they were waiting for the final passengers (sarcastic thanks!) and I was soooo embarrassed that I apologized to the people who were seated around me saying we were just in an accident right outside the airport. That woman did not even get an ounce of the same courtesy.<br /><br />Well after that, it was all ok. I had a headache after awhile though. Not surprising since I was also flying across country with an infant. My mom's neck hurt some. My dad I think was too preoccupied with how everyone else was doing that he seemed fine at the time and even after too.<br /><br />So in the end, my son got his settlement. Though I'd honestly prefer we had not gotten into that accident at all. I am pleased my son got <em>some</em> fundage out of it. We also decided to take his piggy bank to the bank too. Tiny little piggy bank. Only about 4 inches tall and 3 inches wide and 3 inches long. But it was full of change. I didn't realize how much change was in that tiny little thing. Sixty-four bucks in a tiny little piggy bank. Honestly, storing up change goes a long way apparently, considering we gave him all our spare coins.<br /><br />Now my son has a bank account, but I won't be telling him about it until he's 18. Let him work for his money first. *^_^*<br /><br />So at the tender age of 3 months old my son has apparently experienced quite a bit, maybe even more than some people in their twenties. He's had his first vacation at the age of 2 months. Enjoyed two trips to San Diego. Flown in 4 different airplanes. Gotten in his first and hopefully only (knocks on wood) car accident and lived to not remember a single thing it considering he's still a baby and all. And received mulah from said accident. It's almost a shame he won't remember a single thing.<br /><br />Random PS of sorts - My best friend called a week after I talked to her about my random and awkward way of leaving behind only half a message and said she just got into an accident. Some idiot ran a stop sign and totaled her car. T-boned it on the passenger side. She's ok. Was a little banged up and had a big bruise on her knee from where the passenger door was push all the way in through impact. Happy she had no passenger for the moron to mash but yeah. She's fine.<br /><br />Speaking of the cars though. My parents vehicle got an impressive dent on the back bumper. I didn't realize how safe a Honda Accord was. While that woman's vehicle was pretty much totaled with her hood bent like an accordian and her motor exposed to the rain. Serves some people right.<br /><br />Honestly, some people should not get behind the wheel. What if there was a <em><strong>baby</strong></em> in the <em><strong>car</strong></em>???Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-72678703995510973172008-03-14T23:36:00.001-04:002008-03-14T23:20:42.986-04:00A Picture Says A Thousand Words...<em><span style="color:#3333ff;">Eh... it's something to do... and it takes my mind off other things... plus it's kinda just cool to look at...<br /></span></em><br />the RULES:<br />- Answer the questions below<br />- Take each answer and search image on Photobucket<br />- Take any picture from the first page of results and post<br />- And you can't copy the persons answers who posted this before you<br /><br />1. What is your name? <em><span style="color:#3366ff;">I can't believe I found this...</span></em><br /><a href="http://s241.photobucket.com/albums/ff33/ClassyMwa/?action=view&current=carmel.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Carmel" src="http://i241.photobucket.com/albums/ff33/ClassyMwa/carmel.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />2. Name the age you'll be on your next birthday. <em><span style="color:#3366ff;">I also happen to like the show...</span></em><a href="http://s9.photobucket.com/albums/a61/musicmaniac04/?action=view&current=twenty_four.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Twenty Four" src="http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a61/musicmaniac04/twenty_four.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://s261.photobucket.com/albums/ii45/rthames62/?action=view&current=twenty_four.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="24" src="http://i261.photobucket.com/albums/ii45/rthames62/twenty_four.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />3. Name a place you'd like to travel to.<a href="http://s264.photobucket.com/albums/ii180/sherd2008/?action=view&current=ALASKA.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="ALASKA" src="http://i264.photobucket.com/albums/ii180/sherd2008/ALASKA.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://s274.photobucket.com/albums/jj279/spectacular15/?action=view&current=alaska.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="alaska" src="http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj279/spectacular15/alaska.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />4. What is your favorite place to be?<a href="http://s265.photobucket.com/albums/ii221/mandybaby5/?action=view&current=bedroom.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="BEDROOM" src="http://i265.photobucket.com/albums/ii221/mandybaby5/bedroom.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />5. What is your favorite object?<br /><a href="http://s275.photobucket.com/albums/jj299/yomomma_love/?action=view&current=ipod.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="ipod" src="http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj299/yomomma_love/ipod.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />6. What is your favorite food? <em><span style="color:#3333ff;">I'm getting hungry just looking at this picture...</span></em><br /><a href="http://s110.photobucket.com/albums/n116/PoesRaven1984/?action=view&current=friedrice.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="fried rice with shrimp and crab" src="http://i110.photobucket.com/albums/n116/PoesRaven1984/friedrice.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />7. What is your favorite color? <em><span style="color:#3333ff;">Blue all the way...</span></em><br /><a href="http://s275.photobucket.com/albums/jj283/Jylwade96/?action=view&current=BLUE.png" target="_blank"><img alt="blue" src="http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj283/Jylwade96/BLUE.png" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://s252.photobucket.com/albums/hh38/Parallel_Hell/?action=view&current=Blue.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i252.photobucket.com/albums/hh38/Parallel_Hell/Blue.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />8. What is your favorite animal? <em><span style="color:#3333ff;">I want one... </span></em><a href="http://s152.photobucket.com/albums/s171/racheldb_photos/?action=view&current=alaskan-malamute-1.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Alaskan Malamute Puppy" src="http://i152.photobucket.com/albums/s171/racheldb_photos/alaskan-malamute-1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />9. What is your favorite activity? <em><span style="color:#3333ff;">'Nuff said...</span></em><br /><a href="http://s78.photobucket.com/albums/j85/jackie_s_harris/?action=view&current=sleep.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Sleep" src="http://i78.photobucket.com/albums/j85/jackie_s_harris/sleep.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://s269.photobucket.com/albums/jj46/anisah_huri/?action=view&current=sleep.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="sleep" src="http://i269.photobucket.com/albums/jj46/anisah_huri/sleep.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://s270.photobucket.com/albums/jj107/chrissyryan_01/?action=view&current=sleep.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="sleep" src="http://i270.photobucket.com/albums/jj107/chrissyryan_01/sleep.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />10. Where were you born?<a href="http://s239.photobucket.com/albums/ff230/juzone/?action=view&current=Philippines.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Philippines" src="http://i239.photobucket.com/albums/ff230/juzone/Philippines.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://s182.photobucket.com/albums/x302/animeaddiction101/?action=view&current=Philippines.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="philippines" src="http://i182.photobucket.com/albums/x302/animeaddiction101/Philippines.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />11. Where do you want to retire? <em><span style="color:#3333ff;">Just someplace nice...</span></em><br /><a href="http://s264.photobucket.com/albums/ii168/wilson9889/?action=view&current=paradise.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Paradise" src="http://i264.photobucket.com/albums/ii168/wilson9889/paradise.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />12. What is the name of a pet? <em><span style="color:#3333ff;">They are...</span></em><br /><a href="http://s234.photobucket.com/albums/ee293/jamieleeZ/?action=view&current=CALIFORNIA.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="CALIFORNIA" src="http://i234.photobucket.com/albums/ee293/jamieleeZ/CALIFORNIA.gif" border="0" /></a><br />and<br /><a href="http://s255.photobucket.com/albums/hh150/lbecker711/?action=view&current=bones.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Bones" src="http://i255.photobucket.com/albums/hh150/lbecker711/bones.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />13. What is your relationship status?<a href="http://s270.photobucket.com/albums/jj86/Ski1002/?action=view&current=married.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="married" src="http://i270.photobucket.com/albums/jj86/Ski1002/married.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://s187.photobucket.com/albums/x9/kantath/?action=view&current=married.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="married" src="http://i187.photobucket.com/albums/x9/kantath/married.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://s146.photobucket.com/albums/r269/snowprinzss/?action=view&current=married.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="married" src="http://i146.photobucket.com/albums/r269/snowprinzss/married.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />14. What is the name of your significant other?<a href="http://s157.photobucket.com/albums/t46/erutcip_erutcip/?action=view&current=1.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="letter j" src="http://i157.photobucket.com/albums/t46/erutcip_erutcip/1.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://s35.photobucket.com/albums/d193/plant4/?action=view&current=Block_with_letter_O.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="o" src="http://i35.photobucket.com/albums/d193/plant4/Block_with_letter_O.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://s258.photobucket.com/albums/hh257/methuper/?action=view&current=Letter-N-260.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="N" src="http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh257/methuper/Letter-N-260.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />15. What is a bad habit of yours?<a href="http://s221.photobucket.com/albums/dd297/sarajne/?action=view&current=Worrying____by_JeanieArmenia.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Worrying" src="http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd297/sarajne/Worrying____by_JeanieArmenia.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://s49.photobucket.com/albums/f253/AppleJaxie/?action=view&current=8f084392.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Worrying" src="http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f253/AppleJaxie/8f084392.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />16. What is the name of your best friend?<br /><a href="http://s262.photobucket.com/albums/ii96/luv_yaa_xx3/?action=view&current=maria.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Maria" src="http://i262.photobucket.com/albums/ii96/luv_yaa_xx3/maria.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />17. What are your plans for the weekend?<br /><a href="http://s135.photobucket.com/albums/q133/eighties_capricorn/?action=view&current=RELAXATION.png" target="_blank"><img alt="RELAXATION" src="http://i135.photobucket.com/albums/q133/eighties_capricorn/RELAXATION.png" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />18. What is a goal you'd like to achieve in the next year?<br /><a href="http://s207.photobucket.com/albums/bb150/TheKaka_bucket/?action=view&current=graduate.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Graduate" src="http://i207.photobucket.com/albums/bb150/TheKaka_bucket/graduate.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://s239.photobucket.com/albums/ff126/ParanoidPolaroid/?action=view&current=graduate.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Graduate" src="http://i239.photobucket.com/albums/ff126/ParanoidPolaroid/graduate.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />19. What is your biggest fear?<a href="http://s240.photobucket.com/albums/ff210/Muffinus/?action=view&current=Failure.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Failure" src="http://i240.photobucket.com/albums/ff210/Muffinus/Failure.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />20. Describe yourself in one word. <em><span style="color:#3333ff;">I typed "random" and this came up... I say it fits...</span></em><br /><a href="http://s267.photobucket.com/albums/ii318/bBy_559/?action=view&current=random.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="RANDOM" src="http://i267.photobucket.com/albums/ii318/bBy_559/random.gif" border="0" /></a>Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-80721302383599075502008-03-12T23:34:00.002-04:002008-03-12T23:46:46.468-04:00An Ode to My Grandpa...My grandfather is dying. I have no doubt of it.<br /><br />My mother told me that all he wanted was to see all his children together before he died. My aunt overheard him praying that his kids, grandkids, greatgrands all have long and happy lives. He's ready to die.<br /><br />I am glad that I got to see him while I was in California. My last memory of him is a happy one. He was smiling and happy and thrilled that I finally had a child of my own and a son no less. He lived to see his youngest grandchild have a child of her own. He enjoyed seeing his great-grandson.<br /><br />I am also glad that Caden was able to meet him too. Many people aren't even born in time to meet their great-grandparents.<br /><br />Now my grandpa is an awesome fellow. He's no taller than 4 ft 10 inches. He loves dancing. And he had even tried his hand at being a hairstylist when I was 7 years old by giving me the worst hair-cut I've had in my life (to the surprise and dismay of the rest of my family). When he stayed with us, he would surprise me with a sweet treat when I came home from school or by getting me some fast food. He used to make me porridge or soup or hot chocolate all the time. I'm going to miss him.<br /><br />I'm just sad that I won't even be able to be there when he does pass on. I love my grandpa.Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-25779173990105749902008-01-31T23:05:00.000-05:002008-01-31T23:20:47.652-05:00In California...So here I am in California...<br /><br />I literally carried my heavy son across the country that by the second day after my arrival my back was hurting. I swear, I will never travel with an infant again unless I at least have my husband with me. As crude as this sounds, it was difficult using the restroom while holding said infant. Sigh.<br /><br />Anyway, my son is now getting spoiled rotten. Really he is. And I have no clue whether I should blame my sister or my parents more.<br /><br />My sister is messing with his schedule. He had a good schedule going when we were home... of course that's 3 hours ahead of California but it's ok. I don't mind him going to bed early. However, my sister does. She kept him awake and kept him awake to the point where he was the most annoying grump on the planet.<br /><br />Then my sister will play with him, which I don't mind except for the fact that she threw him in the air. Sigh. Then she tells him she's going to spoil him and spoil him and spoil him.<br /><br />Now my parents... they LOVE and I mean LOVE carrying him. Which sucks because after a solid week of that he's now starting to expect being carried ALL the time. And when we get back home... it's just mommy and the baby and mommy isn't going to cart his cute little butt all over the place because he's getting heavy. But my dad for instance said, "Hey it's ok, let him cry for a bit." Then he hears the first tiny cry and he's alllllllll over the baby, picking him up and telling him that grandpa's there to the rescue!<br /><br />My mom was carrying him... then she had him sit on my niece's lap and she started to walk away. The baby started to cry. Soooo she turned back towards him and he miraculously stopped crying waiting for her to pick him back up. Sigh... my son is a grandma's boy.<br /><br />I beg and I beg my family not to spoil him too much... but it seems like an impossibility. So I tell my son, whether he understands it or not, "Enjoy this while you can because as soon as we get home it's all going to stop."Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-36862987509565121402008-01-15T11:41:00.000-05:002008-01-15T23:00:44.262-05:00Random Update of Randomness...So more trains of thought...<br /><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">Train 1</span></strong> right now is carrying the thought, "I hate the common cold." Here's a squirming little bundle of joy with a stuffed up nose and the ONLY thing I can do is suck that mucus out.<br /><br /><br />I really wish babies were born knowing how to blow their noses. Instead I have come to realize that sucking it back in, is the only thing they instinctually know how to do when it comes to a stuffed up nose. Which of course is the opposite of what you want, because what better way to get well than to get that gunk out of your body and out of your system?<br /><br /><br />Therefore this cheerful mom gets to wrestle with the squirming bundle of joy that is human flesh, to try and get him to cooperate, so she can either spray or drop saline fluid into his nose softening the mucus and wetting his little nose. Then after dealing with the saline, this mom now has to use this bulb-like nose aspirator and suck that saline fluid back out, hoping that as she suctions that saline out, out will come mucus as well. All the while the little bundle of joy is squirming and fighting and growing to realize that when mom does something in one nostril, she'll try for the other one next.<br /><br /><br />Fie! Fie! On the cold...<br /><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">Train 2</span></strong> carries the thought, "California here I come!"<br /><br /><br />It's not that I miss California. I really don't. I still prefer where I'm at to Southern California any day. But during the pregnancy and even more AFTER, I realized how much I miss my family there as well as my friends.<br /><br /><br />So here I am on my way, toting said little bundle of joy, so he can meet the people that I so very much miss.<br /><br /><br />So I'm excited but at the same time, I'm bummed because my husband won't be able to go with us. It unfortunately still keeps me struggling with my postpartum. Here I am going to be surrounded by people who will be able to help me, but the most important person in my life will unable to be there.<br /><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">Train 3</span></strong> -"So many new mom's carry self-guilt."<br /><br /><br />Really, it's true. Afer talking to how many moms about my own postpartum I think I came to a reasonable theory. When a woman becomes a new mom, it's like she is expected (maybe by others or maybe by her own self) to be nothing but mom. It's almost like a woman loses her personal identity and henceforth becomes known as "Mom".<br /><br />Then when a new mom wants to do something for herself, something she used to love doing, she then feels guilt that it's not about the baby. Other moms I've talked to said they felt guilty because they worked after a couple of months. Other moms felt guilty that they wanted to take a bath every now and then as a way to just relax.<br /><br />Well... all I have to say to that is this: Just because a woman becomes a mother doesn't mean she loses who was in the first place. She just added another role to her life.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">Train 4</span></strong> is a happy train! I've gone back to my normal size!<br /><br />That is right! I am proudly and happily wearing my old clothes again... only took about 7-8 weeks. But hey... it happened. :)Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-56742990107221706592008-01-09T12:34:00.001-05:002008-01-09T12:55:46.562-05:00Starting Off 2008 With a War Against a New Mom's Arch Nemesis...-The Common Cold...<span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00"></span>Darn you Cold Virus! From the first instant I heard that tiny little sniffle come out of that tiny little nose, I knew. I knew that there would be a really tough battle ahead against an army of billions and billions of germs. I knew that I would be in for sleepless nights and days constantly surrounded by mucus.<br /><br />I bought a warm steam humidifier (not a cold steam one because it creates moldy bacteria, not a hot one because it does the same thing and can cause burns and what not... but a warm one). I find myself using saline drops over and over and over, and suctioning the muscus and whatever gunk with a nasal aspirator out of a 2 month old's little nose. That in itself is a hard and arduous battle. Who ever thought that a tiny little baby would have so much snot in him?<br /><br />Now, my son is sick with his second cold in his short little life, and I find that I too am sick (again) because of the fact that my son is sick (again)! Darn you Cold Virus!<br /><br />Little babies are needy, clingy, little things when they get sick! And to top it off... he was just getting a nice little sleep schedule going where he actually would sleep through the night... and NOW! Because he's sick! He won't sleep at all! I find myself giving him a tiny bit of children's Benadryl just so he can get the sleep and rest he needs.<br /><br />Darn you Cold Virus! You think you have won... just wait til his immune system gets stronger. Just wait til winter is over. This new mom may be frustrated, may be sleep deprived, may be exhausted, but it's nothing some Vicks Vaporub, a box of kleenex, some vitamin C, and a mixture of drugs like sudafed, dayquil, and midol can't cure!<br /><br />My son will conquer your army of germs too! Just you wait... there will come a day when he isn't sniffling or coughing... there will come a day!Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-16255874833614407242007-12-25T18:01:00.000-05:002007-12-25T18:03:14.417-05:00Merry Christmas!<div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">Merry Christmas to you and yours... from me and mine!</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheUsPKdeevgwpHmg51yQnt1yztOcmWhFalKu6U86cY-o_SrQz8rjuzyQFS-iBQAHbY8YsOFU214vXYHAPAswo8EDF6BmYAls98E_QsyUvdDVXjv8txBzpra9UyUXQZKYlRHZbl/s1600-h/100_0820.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148049633668916930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheUsPKdeevgwpHmg51yQnt1yztOcmWhFalKu6U86cY-o_SrQz8rjuzyQFS-iBQAHbY8YsOFU214vXYHAPAswo8EDF6BmYAls98E_QsyUvdDVXjv8txBzpra9UyUXQZKYlRHZbl/s320/100_0820.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div>Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-47531978007348742222007-12-10T18:38:00.000-05:002007-12-10T18:41:58.417-05:00Postpartum Continued...So... another confession...<br /><br />I've been crying more than my baby has. Go figure.<br /><br />I've been feeling desperate, hopeless, and so very alone.<br /><br />I've got a doctor's appointment this Thursday to hopefully deal with what I'm currently going through. I've heard some women deal with postpartum for months on end. I really hope it doesn't last so long for me.Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-91083985942970298412007-11-28T18:25:00.001-05:002007-11-28T18:45:03.600-05:00A Little Bit of Postpartum...A confession...<br /><br />I've been having this mental struggle ever since the baby and I got home. And I've been finding it really difficult to keep a brave face.<br /><br />When we took the baby home for the first time, it was a very difficult night for me. My husband had to go to work that night (he works the graveyard shift) and I was alone with the baby. I had just gotten out of the hospital myself. I was still recoving from the surgery. I still had really high blood pressure. And the pre-eclampsia hadn't left my system yet (to be honest it STILL hasn't left my system).<br /><br />My doctor didn't want to release the baby and me because he didn't want to release ME. But I desperately wanted to go home. So he made a deal with me that I have a check up in three days, then another one a week after and another one 3 weeks after that, then he would let me go home. Well, I somewhat regret pushing for going home.<br /><br />I was still supposed to be in bed rest myself. My husband was working. So I was left to take care of my son. I love my son. He's honestly so precious to me.<br /><br />But it was DAMN hard to take care of him that night. I was still very weak myself.<br /><br />And the next morning when my husband got home from work, he of course needed his rest too. He worked a 10 hour shift, then cleaned the house in preparation for my parents arrival. But that still left the care of the baby to me.<br /><br />The next night was another struggle. My best friend was arriving from California the following morning. And my folks were arriving soon after in the afternoon. But I still had to get through the night.<br /><br />I couldn't ask much more help from my husband. He was already so exhausted. He had even collapsed from exhaustion at work the night my folks arrived.<br /><br />My incision hurt like hell, my blood pressure was soaring, I was sleep deprived and very tired, and still quite weak. I was sooooooo grateful when Maria and my folks came. They let this young tired couple rest and get the sleep they needed to rejuvinate and recover.<br /><br />Well my husband has recovered. I have pretty much recovered myself. Not fully there, but definitely stronger than I was before.<br /><br />But now that Maria's already gone home and my folks are to go home this Sunday, I'm scared. I'm scared I'm still not strong enough to take care of my own child. It's really a mental battle for me right now. But it's still a struggle nonetheless. It's like I'll be responsible for 80% of his care. Am I strong enough? I keep remembering the first two nights and how hard it was. Am I strong enough?<br /><br />I have no support system here. The people I did know in West Virginia are all an hour away. So with the exception of my husband, I'm pretty much alone.Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-60148835221961355862007-11-22T21:49:00.000-05:002007-11-22T21:59:04.921-05:00Happy Turkey Day!!!<div align="center">Just wanted to greet whoever reads this with a:<br /><br />Happy Thanksgiving!!!</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">And to say what I am thankful for...</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">I'm thankful for my husband who is always there for me. Who is always strong, understanding and works hard to take care of our growing family.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">I'm thankful for my new son, who is a true joy in my life. Even though he gave me a hard pregnancy and a difficult birth, every time he smiles I see this little person that is a part of both my husband and myself. </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">I'm thankful for my family, my parents, my sister and her family back in California. They are a great support and I really did miss them while I was pregnant. (Still glad my folks are here visiting the baby and me.)</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">I'm thankful for a best friend who flew all the way here from Southern Ca when I really needed someone to help me the most. That's what real friendship is all about.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">I'm thankful for my other friends (both in Ca and here in WV) who kept asking how I was doing while I was pregnant, or tried to look out for me one way or another. Like, Jaclyn, Stacey, Shannon, Dana, Gina, Nicole and many others. You guys are awesome. </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">I thank God for people like you. </div>Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767708.post-71279946169125487072007-11-16T21:58:00.000-05:002007-11-16T22:15:51.960-05:00The Newest Member of the Family!!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVRnTiSGzAZcvfZOVsCintsG3ZbtgsAh5dBatfpfcr3gqxHfQeXYrsQB0l5Cstuc4iubeGrQOA4OEjhCY8Ppj9Hh0PFZquIYEejnt7u-prcSC11V3Xf1hlXXRCRcwDv39Yv6lQ/s1600-h/Caden+3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133640315313530818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVRnTiSGzAZcvfZOVsCintsG3ZbtgsAh5dBatfpfcr3gqxHfQeXYrsQB0l5Cstuc4iubeGrQOA4OEjhCY8Ppj9Hh0PFZquIYEejnt7u-prcSC11V3Xf1hlXXRCRcwDv39Yv6lQ/s320/Caden+3.jpg" border="0" /></a>I'd like to introduce my son, Caden. Born November 8th, at 11:52 pm. He weighed 7 lbs 13 oz. He was also 19 and 7/8 inches tall.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVwea70S4UQAimEGclKjw-l8iFvLnEWbZUMkrYNjV8UgGzfU3MXv6bCcmJGi0hMKkyOqCU-ITtOOgWxLYIuQj3wPb7ffxk_ucmRvUp1wkn8INrmVjHQXy4hlfD8eQkZTw8adet/s1600-h/Caden+finally+openning+his+eyes.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133638726175631234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVwea70S4UQAimEGclKjw-l8iFvLnEWbZUMkrYNjV8UgGzfU3MXv6bCcmJGi0hMKkyOqCU-ITtOOgWxLYIuQj3wPb7ffxk_ucmRvUp1wkn8INrmVjHQXy4hlfD8eQkZTw8adet/s320/Caden+finally+openning+his+eyes.jpg" border="0" /></a>He was a c-section baby. I once again went to my doctor's appointment. And he once again sent me to the main hospital triage to go through more lab work due to my extremely high blood pressure. And as usual my lab work always came back fine. My husband and I assumed we would be going home again but this time, the doctor came up to us and said, "We'll either be delivering tonight or tomorrow morning."<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbyw5_bUox_hDagjYAMxI24z3jwQc_6qDkJ5EgMeAmJ-lCSN1FZFSt42hM4AYw0NfpZmISMLfGwyOJ8e4i4G5xBvcBQu582Z3qAaOMU7I2BjVeRTzJqy8H7AhaIF-Bk1nH9TP/s1600-h/Caden+2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133638790600140706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbyw5_bUox_hDagjYAMxI24z3jwQc_6qDkJ5EgMeAmJ-lCSN1FZFSt42hM4AYw0NfpZmISMLfGwyOJ8e4i4G5xBvcBQu582Z3qAaOMU7I2BjVeRTzJqy8H7AhaIF-Bk1nH9TP/s320/Caden+2.jpg" border="0" /></a> So two hours later, I was given wonderful drugs that took away any feeling as they were slicing into my belly. And a half an hour after that, I had my little boy. And five days later we were allowed to finally go home. (We were forced to stay in the hospital because they forced me to stay in hospital bed rest for 48 hours after delivery. I still had extremely high blood pressure and my doctor didn't want to send me home right away in case something happened to ME. So mom had to recupe in the hospital after surgery while baby simply enjoyed being coddled by all the nurses who just enjoyed taking care of him out of the other 20 baby's who were there.)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvdf6BodweQe-eMviHGO-hBXuiiY4ZU4rmaiSkTdilBvPeSEEC-pi1uRHR0rpQZg2qsXZOELfOkbA_9Uunc7DJ_hG6ov0D4MgY5jiQ4ZdNPgqWlZvPvd9NkLrGRcE5kEgZzRhF/s1600-h/Caden+4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133638799190075314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvdf6BodweQe-eMviHGO-hBXuiiY4ZU4rmaiSkTdilBvPeSEEC-pi1uRHR0rpQZg2qsXZOELfOkbA_9Uunc7DJ_hG6ov0D4MgY5jiQ4ZdNPgqWlZvPvd9NkLrGRcE5kEgZzRhF/s320/Caden+4.jpg" border="0" /></a>I'd put up the first picture we ever got of my son... but he was nude and probably wouldn't appreciate that when he gets a bit older. So I'll put up other cute and random "awww" pictures that will still embarrass him later.<br /><br />Anyway, I had my first doctor's visit since coming home yesterday. They took out the staples that were on me. Apparently I have a better doctor than I realized. He stiched up EVERY layer he cut open while most doctors will only do half or every other. Hence my incision is healing very well and very quickly.<br /><br />My parents also came all the way from California to visit. They arrived two days ago and are spoiling their first grandson. They barely allow me to breast feed because they want to enjoy feeding him themselves.<br /><br />As to the baby, he had his first doctor's appointment TODAY. After only being around for a week, he grew to be a whopping 21 inches, and not only gained the weight that he lost after being born but more. He is now 8 lbs, 1 oz. So we have a growing, healthy, baby boy who will undoubtedly be spoiled by his grandparents who are staying with us for three weeks. :)Carmelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08085070162758751699noreply@blogger.com3