January 26, 2012 – Happy 2nd Birthday Baby!

Pre-breakfast blood sugar:  156

Pre-dinner blood sugar:  ??  I totally forgot to test, but I did actually remember to take my glucometer out which I normally don’t.

Breakfast:  Red velvet pancakes (but without the icing in the recipe – still good), sausage

Lunch:  Bow tie pasta with bell peppers, sugar snap peas, and chicken

Dinner:  Boneless wings, traditional wings, side salad sans dressing, birthday cookie cake

Oh, we began, my baby boy and I.  I remember the Tuesday morning, the day before he would have been considered a full term baby, anxiously waiting to be taken back to the O.R.; needless to say, this didn’t help my high blood pressure much, even while sleeping on my left side as much as I could stand.  Anxious about the epidural, hoping they didn’t mess it up like they did last time with me – it was bad enough I was having trouble walking, as he thought my sciatic nerve was a comfy spot.  The prep was kind of a blur, and finally I got to hear your first protest as they took him away from me, despite the chatter about a 9 pound, 15.8 pound preemie, whom was nicknamed “the little big guy” by staff at the hospital.

Fast forward through these two years, and my, has he grown.  Most moments he is a great happy bundle of infectious joy in his play and interactions with others, whether it is just in the tilting back and forth as he plays on a drum or how he dances along to “Boo’s Coos”.  For a little guy who doesn’t have many words, he is certainly expressive ranging from hating foods “with his whole body” to squealing with glee over rolling toys.  He certainly has his own sense of humor, often doing things he knows he’s not supposed to do, and somehow charms his way out of it.  Most distinctively, he is incredibly passionate in what he does.  Rarely do I see him simply content; while his tantrums rival the Hulk, our home is never silent while he is awake (and sometimes when he’s asleep).

While I know there’s a lot of time for him to grow, develop, and define himself, I hope some things never change.  May he always have his sense of humor, his infectious joy, his ability to express himself, and his passion.

Happy Birthday G.Q., and thank you for being such a wonderful gift to my life.


January 21, 2012, A Play Day, and the Beginnings of Medium Sized Stealing Boy

Pre-breakfast blood sugar:  173

Pre-dinner blood sugar: 135

Breakfast: Toast and bacon

Lunch: Turkey sandwich with cheese, grapes, celery with peanut butter, a half-dozen Sun Chips, 8oz. bottle of Sierra Mist

Dinner: Hot chocolate, rotisserie chicken, cheesy broccoli, and mashed potatoes

Overall, I had a fun and productive day.  Jeff and I took our boys to the Cincinnati Museum Center, despite the icy weather, icy van, and icy outside steps/sidewalk.  We had a great time – the kids got to touch a box turtle named Pokey; they got to play store, diner, construction worker; G., not quite 2 years old, valiantly dragged me through the advanced cave trail that most kindergartners tend to avoid; N. had quite a conversation with youth volunteer Kyla about the mammoth skeleton at the entrance, as well as listened closely to a veteran youth volunteer’s (i.e. my) preschool-sized tour of the Ice Age trail (as well as several other visitors not with our group).  We managed to have a healthy-ish lunch while not spending a dime (well, we got some pretzels as a snack for the kids and we picked up some heavily discounted holiday ornaments, including a couple of dinosaurs, so not spending a dime on lunch), even though Jeff and I shook our heads thoroughly as the kids decided the peanut butter we set aside for dipping was meant for their Cheetos, not their celery.  (I even decorated personalized paper lunch sacks for them – is this dorky or what?)  As this is the weekend we go grocery shopping, we ran by our local Sam’s to pick some things up and slip-slided home.

Once the boys snuggled down for a nap, just as I begin to start a post ripping Newt Gingrich a new one, Jeff checks our bank account, and there are several mysterious transactions of significant amounts.  A few calls here and there and we find that someone has decided to steal our account information to buy medium-sized suit and cell phone parts, among other things.  I’m at the very busy end of the period I call “Birthday Madness”:  G.’s birthday is in 5 days, N.’s is in 2 weeks, and my best friend and Jim’s birthdays follow shortly after – essentially everything last-minute we need for both boys’ parties needs to be taken out of this check, in addition to other bills.  I’ll admit I’m a little nervous about these gatherings, as they will be the first time my best friend and my mother-in-law will be meeting my boyfriend, and as a mom and rumored awesome planner of events I’m having a little performance anxiety too, but now this crap has to happen?  Needless to say, I am beyond livid at this point, and the one whom I shall call Medium Sized Stealing Boy had better be thankful that my religion prohibits me from purposely harming others.  The bank was barely any help beyond keeping him from using our card anymore, so in an effort to get some justice, Jeff talked to the good folks of the Cincy PD and things are underway.  (A note to businesses:  When the uber-stressed out police outperform you on customer service on a Saturday night, it’s time to rethink how you do business.)

Now, I’m at a point where I could just stew in my being violated; I could wish my hardest for revenge; I could just flip out, drive to one of the possible locations one order was going to be shipped to; I could decide to be pessimistic and cancel all parties I’m planning, withdraw RSVP’s to other birthdays, and beg for Jim to not be anything less than content when his birthday present is late.  With the biggest thing being the kids’ birthdays, as they are the most financially heavy issues and ones where there are people too young to understand involved, I’m just going to wait it out tonight.  Why?  If you haven’t figured it out by now, I live in Cincinnati, the city I’ve lived all my life.  It is my belief that weatherpeople, especially during winter, tend to predict the weather by throwing darts at random weather terms, and it can change between forcasts.  It is very possible we will have to cancel either party not because of finances, but because the weather makes it difficult, so it is silly for me to wait, plan, and prepare anxiously for when Mama Nature will come by and mess even those plans up.  I’m just going to geek out with my husband, a mug of hot chocolate, and Stargate Atlantis.

However, Medium Sized Stealing Boy better put his head between his legs and do some kissing because he will have to deal with me.  And Newt, I haven’t forgotten about you either.

Everyone else, stay warm!