>How Evan was Maimed

>So a couple of days ago, Evan was being Evan. He was throwing a tantrum over homework. Silly homework that would’ve taken him all of 5 minutes to complete. And he threw a stack of dvd’s in the midst of it. I threw them back, telling him to put them away. And one hit the edge of the entertainment center and bounced and hit his left cheek. I felt horrible and cried more than he did, I think.
As if that wasn’t bad enough…
John had gone out to warm up the car for our trip out to run some errands, and Evan followed him. I heard John tell him not to run, since there are still patches of snow and ice in random spots on our driveway. The next thing I know, John is bringing Ev’s DS in, saying it’s over. What’s over? The DS, apparently. I’m thinking Evan did or said somethig horrible and John meant he was confiscating it for good. In hindsight, I should’ve known better: Evan was still supposed to be grounded from it anyway, so how he had it in the first place is beyond me. But nope, John meant it’s gone. Broken. He had it all of 6 weeks. But that isn’t the worst.
Evan was running when he dropped the DS on the concrete. And he slid on ice. And went down. Hard. Bringing the casualty count up to one DS, one coat, one complete school uniform. I was pretty upset. If he would’ve been listening in the first place, none of it would have happened.
So I go to work and come home. And then I see it: Ev’s little elbow and knee are banged up so badly from his fall that I don’t know how it is that he managed to not cry to alert us that he was hurt. I mean, he’s not a toddler and is fully able to verbalize this to us! And me! How could I fail to check him out thoroughly after the fall???
Plus, where the dvd hit his face, he had a fricken shiner. Seriously. Poor kid.
So the black eye, the road rash on his knee and elbow, the bruise under the road rash where his bone hit the ground, the broken DS…Poor Evan. I won’t say “I told you so”.
In the meantime, he’s going to school in the morning and other people are going to see this. I swear, people, we don’t beat our kid. Though it is quite possible that we should. Just Kidding. I think.


>Zach’s Week in Pics

> Nothing special about this one (other than an illustration of the fauxhawk I described in a previous post) . This was tonight. It seems he has grown in leaps and bounds just in the past 2 weeks or so. He’s proven to me that preemie or not, he will do everything in his own time. And that whatever time that may be, it will be just fine. And normal. And healthy. This child, just like Evan, is such a joy in my life. Who could’ve guessed my heart could hold so much?

Crawling now. Really crawling.

Ahhhhh, Goodnight Moon. It never gets old. This past week, Zach showed us he has inherited Mommy’s love of books.

Gah! And with just one look at this, my heart dissolves.

Two fabulous words: Teething Biscuits. These are Earth’s Best organic whole wheat ones.

Bathtime has gotten so much more fun now that he is a more confident sitter. Yesterday,he completely drenched me with his playful splashes.

And this one. In his bedroom,with John kneeling on the floor beside him, playing. And John gasps, “Andrea, look!” And I do. And I see this. After worrying and fretting about his perceived delays. Zachy sits. With no help. Without faltering. This is motherhood. The joys of an aced exam, the feeling after a successful resuscitation at work…All of these and more were reluctantly traded in to bring this little boy into the world so I could have this experience with him. And it was all so worth it.

>My First Time

>My first Bloggy award. Yayayayayayayay. Thanks to SarcasmInAction for thinking of Lil’ Ol’ Me! If you haven’t yet, check her out. She cracketh me up! So I’m new to this award thingy, but I think I now have to tell you 7 things about myself. I assume it’s 7 things I haven’t mentioned yet, so here goes:

1. I played classical flute for 12 years. Which makes me a band geek, I think. Instead I tried to shrug this off and categorize myself as one of the uber-cool ones who was a Serious Musician. Ha! I actually majored in music during my first drunken go-round at college. Then my mother died, I dropped out of school, and since she was my biggest fan, I eventually stopped playing. Every couple of years or so, John tries to get me to buy a flute and rekindle that part of my past. I never have…

2. I am such a nerd that I think one of my favorite smells has to be new text books. Just don’t ask. I lead a sad, sad existence.

3. I have 36 pairs of work shoes, I swear. WTF, you ask? Well it goes like this: I’m a fatty, and I work hellacious hours on my feet. On concrete. Running to-and-fro to codes and emergencies and impending patient disasters. And my poor fat feet scream in pain at the end of my shift. As a result, I am always, always in the market for the miracle shoe that will reverse the force of gravity and make my feet not hurt. I don’t think there is such a shoe. The closest I have found was a high-end pair of Asics running shoes. I had worked twelve 12-hr. shifts in a row and my feet hurt so bad that I went to Dick’s and told the sales guy that I really didn’t give 2 craps about look or price. And when I tried them on, they felt so good that I embarrassed John by actually tearing up. They were $190. And the ugliest shoes I have ever seen. And that next night at work, they got splashed with puke during a suction-canister misshap in the middle of a code. Sigh…

4. I’ve never had a glass of wine. Everyone talks about wine, and I want to be cool like that, but wine kind of scares me. I mean, have you ever shopped for a bottle when you know nothing about it? The vast selection and type and etiquette surrounding it…Gah! I want to try it. I want to be the cool, hip chick who returns from work to a nice glass, but there are some problems with this. A) I return from work at 7AM. To have a glass of wine then seems like borderline-alcoholism. B) I don’t have wine glasses. My Curious-George husband breaks everything that isn’t plastic or doesn’t bounce when it hits the floor. How pathetic would it be to drink wine from a plastic cup???

5. I have no social life. Seriously. Before I had Zach, I went back and forth to work and school. The little time had in-between was reserved solely for my family. Now I work like crazy and am getting ready to go back to school in the aftermath of the Pregnancy from Hell. This Sunday, I’m going to a baby shower for a coworker and it will mark the first occasion where I will actually leave the house without my entire family. Although I’m taking Zachy, so I don’t even know if this counts…

6. There are a few songs that can reduce me to a blubbering, sobbing mess right now. Amazing by Janelle, Wires by Athlete, and Miracle by Celine Dion. I discovered this the other day becaue they are on my mp3 player. I didn’t put them there, but it automatically syncs when it is plugged into the computer to charge. So as I’m going to work the other day, one of them started playing and I started crying so hard that I had to pull the car over and let it pass. And there’s a story there. When I was enduring my 5 months of bedrest with Zachy, and I was having 30+ contractions an hour and just trying to hang on, I would search preemie videos on Youtube daily. A baby at 30 wks, 31 wks, 32 wks, and on and on, to encourage myself. To show myself what I was fighting to avoid and also to show myself that if it got to the point where I couldn’t go any longer, that Zach would be okay in the long run because those babies were. And almost without fail, those were the songs in all of the videos. And when I hear them, I can simultaneously feel those damned contractions and see Zach’s face. They got me through a pregnancy, but it is all still too raw to revisit.

7. I have OCD when it comes to the appearance of my offspring. I’m a little more laid-back with Zach. When Ev was a baby, I would literally match his pacifier to his receiving blanket to his outfit. And if he would spit up and the outfit had to be changed? The whole ensemble was switched out. The problem with this was that Evan had the reflux of a preemie and would spew like a fricken fountain. I’m not this crazy with Zach. Zach is clean and well-dressed. You will never see him out of the house in a Onesie (Onesies are underwear for babies!) or a sleeper (Do YOU wear footed pj’s to the mall????), but other than that, I’ve turned the crazy down a few notches.

So there are my seven. My neuroses wrapped up just for you. Now I have to bestow upon 5 fellow Bloggy peeps this same honor.


Mama Ferris at Not Your Average Ferris Wheel . Why? Because she’s awesome.And she helped get me through some of my darkest days. And her babe is adorable. And her husband is uber-talented.

Quincy at Learn to Enjoy. Because she is the coolest young woman and the world is her oyster.

Mary at The Gift of Fat. Funny, funny woman that she is…

And Jenny at I’m A Coach’s Wife. Her thoughts make me laugh and remind me that I am somewhat normal because she has them too. Maybe.

Amanda at It’s Blogworthy. Because she’s also funny as hell. And also has a Cutey McCutester baby.

Run with it, Ladies.

>I Cried

>Most people want their children to be exceptional in all areas. The best at athletics, the smartest, the best speller, the best looking. And then sometimes, with some parents, normal is beautiful. Average is the goal. After having two late-preemies, I soooooo can relate to that. Zach in particular, because Ev just did everything way too early.

I had already blogged about being concerned about Zach’s development. And then yesterday, my angel of a baby boy did something that would make me feel tons better. He sat. And I mean sat. No faceplanting, no flying backwards. He sat. And he turned from the waist and looked at me when I gasped and started to cry. And he reached for a toy John was holding. And he did all of this without falling or even swaying in the slightest. (I got a pic, but techno difficulties have prevented me from posting it just yet)And then yesterday, while half-crawling, half-scooting around the living room, he reached up for the seat of his swing and pulled himself about 2/3rds of the way up so he was pretty-much kneeling there.

We’ll all be okay.

>Yeah, Whatevs, We Didn’t Make It

>I don’t even think I mentioned this but…

A little over a month ago,I got seriously frustrated with my fam. Now before I make it sound like John is my bitch, let me explain that I work very, very long hours while John is home. I also make concessions because I am pretty OCD about the house and Martha-Fricken-Stewart could not keep a house to my specifications. So while I have all of the faith in the world in my husband, I know he can’t keep me happy on that front. But seriously.

There was one day where I came home from work and Evan’s dirty boxers were on the windowsill in the bathroom. And I was beyond grossed out. And so I talked to John about it. And Evan, because, face it, Ev is old enough to know where his dirty skivvies go. And I thought they got it. And then I came home the next week to garbage all on the floor around the garbage can, but not actually in it. And when I confronted my beloved boys yet again, the response was just that it was so difficult to keep up with Zach and clean at the same time. He almost had me feeling kind of bad for him. Almost.

Then I started to think of the Ergo carrier I bought for that purpose, because John refused to try the MobyWrap. And then I thought of how Zach has to be the easiest baby on the planet. During the day, he needs not much more than a few diaper changes and a few bottles. And at night when I’m at work? Pffft! Zach goes to bed no later than 8 PM and doesn’t wake until I come home in the morning.

And then something clicked in my brain. And I realized that while John and Evan couldn’t possibly clean because Zach kept them too busy, they sure had enough time to be able to report to me anything and everything that had happened on television that night. So-and-so beat You-know-who on WWE Raw. Snooki’s pouf was exceptionally big that night. MerDer had the sweetest moment on Greys. And Guess who’s hubster was sleeping with what’s-her-name’s on Desperate Housewives. But the garbage was on the floor around my garbage can.

And I swear, I cannot believe I didn’t catch on sooner. I mean, really? And so I thought deeply on the matter. Okay, not really “deeply”. I thought for about 15 minutes. And then I cancelled out cable. Ha! Hahahahaha! Read some books, you brats! Take that!

Only it kinda sucked. And it didn’t work. Instead of being more productive, they would just drop me off at work and then go and rent stacks upon stacks of movies. Evan’s homework still suffered. The house was still a mess. The only difference was that I couldn’t watch anything either. Me! I did what my mom always told me not to do: “Andi, don’t cut off your nose to spite your face!” Well after that, my face had no nose.

So yesterday, the cable man came back, in the snow, to hook the cable back up. We are sad. We are pitiful. We cannot live without the television.

>What Motherhood Does To You

>I have been reading Freedom by Jonathan Franzen, and I love his writing. Colorful. Descriptive. I like it so much that he has another book that I would like to read, Corrections. So off to Borders I go. I went as is. I had been chilling around the house on my one measly day off, so I had on a sweatshirt and scrub bottoms, which is my standard these days. My hair was thrown up in a bun and my get-up was completed with a worn-in pair of Asics running shoes. I figured that anyone I could possibly see would think I had just got off of work or something and forgive my sloppiness. Wrong. I’ll explain in a sec.

Let me just lay out the scene for you and give you some background info. First of all, I used to be the type who would refuse to leave the house without full hair and make-up done. Those days went out the window when Ev was a baby. Once he got older and it was less of a production to leave the house, I reverted to my Diva roots. And then I started working crazy hours. And started back at pre-med in addition to my crazy work hours,and they I got careless again. And then came Zach.

So here I am at Borders, right? And our Borders is in a rather upscale shopping center. Poor people don’t go to this shopping center. Trashy people don’t either. You kind of need the full get-up to blend in. So imagine my dismay when I find myself perusing the shelves of books in my ensemble, already sticking out like a sore thumb, and look down to find sweet potatoes all over the hem of my sweatshirt. My white sweatshirt. And some more on my leg. And I catch a glimpse of my reflection and find some in my hair, which has started to escape its bun and is sticking out in a way that makes me appear as if I have escaped a mental institution.

This is what motherhood does to you! I think I could’ve died right there in the Literature section. Seriously. Because I didn’t have my buffer with me. What was that buffer? The baby. Because most people realize, when you look like a slob but have a young infant with you, that the baby is the reason. And you are instantly forgiven. But Zach was in the car with Evan and John So instead I was just some random sloppy crazy person who didn’t care that she had some horrendous orange crap all over her. Thankfully, I found my book and 2 others rather quickly and hit the road.

But then I got to thinking about the other ways motherhood has changed me. I’m less selfish, more responsible. I can find deeper meaning in just about every aspect of life. I’m a better person because of Evan and Zach. And suddenly I was proud of the sweet potato stains.

>Blogging About Blogging

>Hmmmmm. When I started this blog, I did so without a thought about who would follow it or leave comments. I didn’t expect to become famous on the web. I did it mainly for myself. My little online journal. But then I got sort of enthralled with all things bloggy and I started to nervously venture out of my little box and into the rest of the Blog World. In other words, I started reading others’ blogs and realized something: I really do suck. Oh well. Last I heard, there are no Pulitzers awarded for blogging anyway, and again, it is just for me. It just seems that all of the other bloggers are so much better at it than me. I mean, there is some really good writing going on out there. Witty and clever. Amusing. Entertaining. On all sorts of topics. And blogs with thousands of followers (how does one do that, anyway?). That’ll never be me, but oh well. I’ll continue to crawl along in the Blog World, reading into the lives of others and feeling sort of voyeuristic and creepy. But it is just so fun. So in honor of my suckiness, here are some people who most definitely do not suck. As a matter of fact, these are the blogs that make me feel sucky in their greatness. If you’re reading this, stop by and have a look. (In no particular order…)

Not Your Average Ferris Wheel
B and I go back to our pregnancy days, when we were both on bedrest and communicated though our pregnancy blogs. I love keeping up with her and her little guy, and feel like I know them without having ever met them. And if you wanna see some seriously cute baby pictures, she’s your girl.

Daydream Believer
Jaime gained her Bloggy Fame when Blogger made her a Blog of Note. That’s how I stumbled across her blog. She’s hilarious. Take a look.

It’s Blogworthy
Stop by and see Amanda and her adorable new son. She always makes me LOL.

Learn To Enjoy
This girl amazes me with her insights. And then I discovered how young she is. And I felt really old. But also amazed.

The Gift of Fat
Mary also makes me laugh. And reminds me that there are indeed other people out there who think just like I do…

Loose Leaf Writing
This blog proves that there are others out there way smarter than I am (I know, shocking, right?). Posts are always thought-provoking and interesting.

I’m a Coach’s Wife
Again, someone else who reminds me that my thoughts may be completely normal.