Lazy Thursday.

Well, not really. Evelyn is sick. She cut a tooth last night (or rather, around 4 this morning) and is in the beginning stages of an ear infection, thanks to all the tooth-related congestion. We're not doing a whole lot, but sometimes not doing a whole lot takes a lot of time.

First, there was a half hour wait before we got our things together to go to the pediatrician. Then there was the visit itself. Then the trip to Schnucks (did you know they have free generic antibiotics?), then we got home around 11. Evelyn's been sleeping in roughly half-hour intervals, but even that sleep isn't particularly restful. It's punctuated by coughing and snorting. Then when she wakes up enough to fuss, I nurse her because she hasn't been eating much. Then she falls back to sleep because she can breathe at last and we do the whole thing over again.

Her pediatrician told me that she was healthy enough to go to daycare, but I made the decision early on not to take her. It seems silly for her to be miserable at daycare when I can give her my undivided attention, time at the breast and carry her around as much as she wants and get her to sleep more frequently (if not better) than they can at daycare.

I think I'll try to take a nap. Note that the operative word here is try. I'm smart enough to know it ain't gonna happen, but hopeful enough to try.

This boring post brought to you by the letter S for SLEEP (I need some) and the number 4:30, which is when I went to bed last night/this morning.

Attach this.

So, for the first time, I read Attachment Parenting by Dr. William Sears. I wasn't impressed. It wasn't the ideas I had a problem with them. Actually, I think that attachment parenting makes a lot of sense. But the whole book could've been summed up with:

1. Breastfeed if you can for as long as you can.
2. Bedshare if you want to.
3. Carry your kid a lot.
4. If something's not working, try something else or get help.

I suppose the above wouldn't have sold well, but my problems with the book were as follows:

1. As with any book advocating something "unusual," it's preachy and defensive.
2. Much of the "evidence" it referred to was anecdotal, taken from Dr. Sears' practice. I think that some amount of this would've been helpful, but I know from prior research that a large and growing body of actual, scientific data backs up most of the ideas in the book. That was very frustrating because it seemed as though the author was too lazy to do any external research himself, almost as though he had all the answers already, or thought he did.
3. The suggestions Dr. Sears gives for decompressing are irritatingly stereotypical. For example, in several sections, he recommends that to relax, the mother go take a bubble bath or sew. I actually enjoy sewing and it does help me decompress when I think to do it, but... Honestly? Sew?
4. Some of the anecdotes in the book were completely unbelievable.
5. It was way, way, way too long for a book that offers just a few ideas and only anecdotes to back them up. I felt like the same thing was being pounded into my head over and over.

So there. Love the ideas in Attachment Parenting, hate the author's style.

So very tired.

I'm just about wiped out. Evelyn either had a really weird cold that involved only congestion, or she's teething. Regardless, in addition to lots of hand gnawing, said stuffy nose coincided with another little *click* in her brain. Normally that's delightful, but I've noticed that as children get older, clicks also mean that whatever you'd been doing before that was guaranteed to get them to sleep suddenly doesn't work anymore. Seriously - one day it works, then the next day it never works again ever. So frustrating!

Anyway, until Thursday night I've been able to just carry her around for five minutes, jiggling her gently, to get her to sleep. Then Thursday night, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, yesterday and now today, I've spent two hours or more alternately carrying her and gently laying her down while I walk away for a few minutes so I don't get too tense from carrying around a screaming baby, then coming back to pick her up. Only after she's wiped herself out a bit will she sleep. It sucks because she's never been a screamer and she doesn't get upset about anything else. She screamed so much yesterday, I was convinced that she had an ear infection from all of last week's congestion and took her to acute care, only to be told that she was completely healthy.

Anyway, none of this is particularly important. I'm really putting this here because it bothered me that every time I come to this page, the first thing I see is the post about having to put my cat to sleep. I really ought to be going to bed. Last night I got the most sleep I've gotten in one stretch in a week and that was only four hours without interruption. Sad, isn't it, when four hours of sleep is cause for celebration? Huh.

Or not.

I had to put Cricket to sleep a couple of hours ago. She would eat, but not drink. They think she probably had cancerous tumors. They said I could wait two or three days if I wanted to, but she was losing weight so quickly and hardly able to breathe, so I asked them to do it before she got truly uncomfortable.

Back from the dead?

So, I had made an appointment to euthanize my cat after she refused to eat or drink for almost 24 hours (the statute of limitations I was given by the emergency vet - basically, if she's not eating or drinking after 24 hours, it's time to consider euthanasia or surgery). Then, as though she understood what I was doing, she began eating the tuna I left out for her and drinking the juice. She still refuses water, but will drink tuna juice or chicken broth. I think she's getting a bit dehydrated, but not as dangerously so as she was last week. I guess I'll give her another day or two and see what happens.

My weekend has pretty much been spent watching the cat for signs of imminent death and trying to get a growing infant to sleep. I think she must be on a growth spurt or something clicked in her brain again. She ate for a good three, almost four hours last night, woke for maybe 30-60 minutes, then ate for another two. I'm glad I'm no longer shy about bringing a baby to bed with us. Last night could've been a lot more uncomfortable. It doesn't help that she's got her first tooth coming already. It's one of her upper eye teeth. Go figure. Now we'll have a vampire baby.

Her four-month checkup is tomorrow. I can't wait. I used to think, "Jeez - how many doctor's appointments can I justify anyway?" I no longer care. Just like with Ragsy, it's exciting as heck to go and see how much weight they've gained, what someone else thinks of what they're up to, etc. Oh, well. Such a boring weekend, but exciting to me. So far, the only thing "major" we've done is go to lunch and Babies R Us today. Whatever. It didn't involve animal hospitalization, screaming, vomiting or snot. So I'll take it.

Silver lining?

This week has been...almost indescribable. I may need to put my cat down. Actually, she's doing much better, but I'm still trying to decide what kind of quality of life a cat with pancreatitis, kidney failure and high blood pressure can have, even though the kitty version of the intensive care says she's doing much better. Did you know that high blood pressure can make a cat hemmorage behind her eyes? I didn't. I didn't want to know, either. On a more practical note, I'm also wondering how much cash I can legitimately shell out to keep my cat alive. Not a whole lot more.

Unfortunately, the near demise of white cat had an impact - a bad one - and Ragsy hurt a kid at school. Not intentionally, but his habitual throwing led to someone else getting injured. Then, instead of being remorseful, he apparently tried to hit a teacher, started spitting (thank God the only way he knows to spit is blowing raspberries) and screaming.

Anyway, things are not necessarily better. But they seem to be stabilizing anyway. While I was stressed out over the past few days, I managed to misplace a check from my FSA for a substantial amount, so right now I'm ticked, feel really stupid and am ready to pass out, all at the same time. But maybe there's a silver lining. Maybe. Right now I just want to go to bed and pretend this week never happened.

Keee-rap.

Week 1 after maternity leave was...anticlimactic. At best. Day one was nice. I was provided with a really nice lactation room, which was an absolutely wonderful surprise. I was seriously considering whether I wanted to quit sooner rather than later over it. It may sound stupid, but I really don't want work dictating how I can feed my baby, and I'm not a huge fan of pumping in public bathrooms. I was planning to buy Whisper Wear so I could just do it in my car, but they went out of business.

Anyway, the lactation room was a huge load off my mind, and the place they set up for me was really nice - two comfy chairs, a desk, a fridge, a bookcase. Much nicer than ESI. Unfortunately, though, that was the best thing about coming back. All my work was waiting for me. How is it possible that someone is gone three months and nothing gets done? I was gone during the single busiest time of the year for my product. Plus, I woke up Tuesday to two flat tires. I only found out they were flat after I realized I'd lost my security badge and got into my car late. So, here I am stomping around, I get in my car, drive about two blocks and pull over, check my tires and drive home. I'm waiting for the tow truck to arrive and searching the whole house for my badge when I decide to just drive on my rims to the tire place down the road. I go to my car door and there, frozen in the ice, is my badge. On the street. So I break the ice with my shoes, pick it up and go on my way.

So that was Tuesday. Now Evelyn has RSV. Well, I guess she's had it for a while - it just took a while to show up. It's not as terrifying as it was with Ragsy. She hasn't stopped breathing, thank God. Though I think she might have yet another ear infection. Anyway, I think the RSV peaked last night and is subsiding. Unfortunately, if she won't nurse on one side tomorrow, I'll probably have to call the doc or go to the pediatric acute care center for an ear infection. And did I mention that I now have RSV, too? I'm sure that being up for nearly 24 hours two days in a row didn't improve my chances for holding out.

I hope this week isn't going to set the tone for things to come in the future.

Speaking of health insurance...

Ours is going to get a workout this year. Already Evelyn has had conjunctivitis, an infection in each ear and Ragsy has also had a double ear infection. This morning, he woke with a fever of 104, stating that he was really tired, which is always a huge warning flag for us. He's never tired. Ever. Anyway, after a visit to the doctor, he was proclaimed healthy, even though I couldn't get his fever to go down earlier, which figures.

The way his illnesses usually work: he wakes up, burning hot with chills and acting really off - super whiny, exhausted, clingy, not hungry, etc. I take his temperature and find it's some ungodly high number, so I dose with some Tylenol and, if it doesn't got down, call the doctor. They tell me to bring him in. I bring him in and, by the time we get there, the fever is gone, he's happy and well rested (because he slept late that morning since he was feverish), and proclaimed healthy as a horse and I'm advised that he can go to preschool. Then I have a kid bouncing off the walls all day. The next morning rolls around, I'm excited because he can go to preschool, and his fever is back, along with weird behavior. Rinse, repeat until late Friday morning when it all goes away and he makes like the Road Runner in Wile E. Coyote cartoons until Monday when he's out the door. Good times.

Time.

The more I contemplate going back to work, the more depressed I get. I can't believe maternity leave is almost over. It's as if just a few weeks ago, it was just me, my husband and Ragsy and now we have this other little life enmeshed in ours and it's wonderful and I don't get to spend nearly enough time holding her and watching her play and grow. Dammit.

I'm still going, but I'm not going to like it (not that I did beforehand, but I think I'll like it even less this time around). Unfortunately, between me and my husband, I'm the only one of the two of us whose employer offers reasonably-priced insurance, so quitting is not an option right now since I have a pre-existing medical condition. We've worked it out and found that we save about $700-$800 per month on insurance alone if I work. Then there are the investments we're hoping to build up, education to pay for, bills, etc. I think I need to work harder on a longer-term plan and my own business. What that business will be is so far up in the air. Medicare or writing? If writing, what type? If I do that, who takes on insurance? So far, my husband really likes consulting, and since I freelanced already, I'd like him to have the opportunity to build up his own business.

Yeesh, being a grownup sucks sometimes. I really miss not having to worry about all this crap, but I sure as hell don't miss not having children. I still remember when getting up at 7 a.m. was ungodly early. Now I find I need to get up at 5:30 when I go back to work to make sure I get a workout in, a shower, kids up and dressed and fed and ready to go so I can leave them with my husband with a clean conscience. And bedtime isn't usually before 12 or 1 a.m. because, once we've gotten everyone into bed, it's 9 p.m. Once everyone is actually asleep (I'm looking at you, Ragsy) it's 10 p.m., leaving us precious little time to talk, relax and get ready to do it all over again the next day. Still, it's worth it. I hope working turns out to be worth it, too.

Good grief.

So, I admit it. I was completely irresponsible. While I renewed my license plates in December, I kept one of the old ones on until today. But I had a somewhat good reason: the screw was so stripped I couldn't get it off without a mechanic's help (it needed bolt cutters and a few other specialized tools I don't have and don't want to buy) and, with all the illness in the house, got distracted. Nonetheless, I did have some time in which I could have gone to the dealership and had the offending plate removed and the new plate attached. Anyway, I had attached the front plate and put the rear new plate in my rear window so at least it was visible. But I get it - I didn't meet requirements. So I wasn't terribly surprised when I found a ticket on my windshield last week citing me for failure to display two current plates. Okay, I thought - Evelyn's first day at daycare is Monday, so I can get the rear plate replaced then.

So, today after I dropped her off and made a belated visit to the dentist for a teeth cleaning, I headed to Starbucks (have to have coffee while I wait) and was turning into the dealership when a cop flipped his lights on behind me. I knew exactly why - expired plates. But still, what timing! What...I don't know what. I was lucky he didn't give me a ticket, but I'm sure he stayed in the parking lot to make sure I actually drove into the dealership.

I should've expected it. After all, today was a day for expected unexpecteds. You know, those things you talk about, then say, "That figures." Getting pulled over for the very thing I was on my way to fix was one. The other was how happy Evelyn was when I dropped her at daycare. No, I didn't want her to be upset. But she usually does her scalded cat impression when anyone else but me or my husband holds her. Instead, when Tina pulled her from her car seat, she cuddled up to her, let Tina swaddle her without a peep (I suggested a nap since she'd gotten up early), then lay in her crib grinning and kicking her feet. I called to check in - surely she'd gotten upset when she realized I'd gone. Nope - the only time she'd gotten bent out of shape was when she was hungry and was offered a bottle instead of a breast. I was completely nonplussed. Even now I'm still going, "huh?" When I called she was sleeping, so I decided to give her a little longer before I pick her up. Good grief.