Just a little visitor....

I don't feel that I need to actually even say these words here, but I will.  I still miss my Annie dog more than I ever thought I could miss a pet.  She's still with the vet.  Still working on her miracle.  She has made improvements.  She still can't walk.  She still can't express her bladder on her own.  But she's trying.  I've seen videos from the vet of Annie attempting to stand on her own and these are definitely improvements.  She still has a long road...

Still the best dog.  Ever.

In the meantime, yesterday, a friend posted a picture of a dog that was up for adoption.  The dog immediately sparked my attention.  It is a small dog, around 10 pounds and just about 5 years old.  It is a Bischon/Poodle mix who's owner has had some health problems and is no longer able to care for the dog.

I reached out to my friend about the dog and found out its owner is a relative of mine.  I don't know the direct link, all I know is it goes through my dad.  I have a hard time remembering any relationships outside of first (maybe second) cousins.

Things were starting to fall into place with this dog.  The dog is somewhat related to me.  The dog's name is "Chloe".  Seth's dear dog that we lost several years ago was Chloe...

I didn't want to commit to an official adoption of this dog.  My head wants a dog in the house again.  My heart says, "But what would Annie think....?"  My friend assured me that if I felt it wouldn't work with this dog, or when it was time for Annie to come home, I wouldn't have any trouble finding another home for this dog. 

After I got the okay, we decided to make the call and foster the dog.  I say foster, because I really want to get my Annie dog back.  And if she comes back, I don't want her to feel like she's been replaced. 

But if Annie doesn't come back.... I don't even want to finish that thought.

So this morning, I head to pick up the little dog.  As I got closer to the vet my heart started to sink.  I've had mixed emotions about this the whole time but getting close to the clinic brought it out.  My little Annie dog is in there..... Maybe I should go see her.  No, that won't help Annie and it won't help me... But how can I walk in there and pick up a different dog and just leave Annie. 

Well.  That's where Annie needs to be.  I don't have enough ability to help or care for her at this point.  She is loved there.  They are giving her everything that she needs, including love.

I made it clear to the folks at the vet that all I wanted was my Annie dog back... But in the meantime, maybe I could give the love I have for my Annie to a dog who needs it.

So I walked in and shortly after walked out with this little Chloe.

She is a very sweet dog.  She was timid and confused but is already settling in at our house.  She sniffed everywhere and I know she can still smell Annie.  She spent an extra amount of time sniffing around my side of the bed - Annie used to sleep under my side of the bed.... She has been sweet to the boys and very sweet to me and now she's curled up in the new little bed I bought her right beside me in the kitchen.

We will take care of this dog and give her a home.  I know we will get attached.  But if sweet Annie comes back, this little sweet girl might have to find another new place to go.  But for now... she's content.

Poop....

I think at one point I told a friend, and maybe even mentioned here, that my life got exponentially dirtier after having my second child...

Right after I had Charlie, Wyatt got into this awful habit of sticking his hands in his diaper after he had done his dirty business... And that lead to awful discoveries of dirty business in a variety of places... 

I think the hand into the dirty business was a step in the direction of potty training for Wyatt.  I'm pretty certain he was just over two. 

Well, here I am almost two years later and I'm reliving the joys of that age through dear Mr. Charlie.

In the last two weeks I have dealt with an unordinary amount of poop in a wide variety of locations throughout this house....  Don't worry, I will spare you all the pictures. Though a few choice friends have been lucky enough to receive some of the snaps... ;)  Don't you feel special....

Charlie does things a little differently, though.  Charlie doesn't just stick his hands in his diapers, he just takes the diapers off completely.  The other morning I was in my bathroom getting ready when out of the corner of my eye I saw a bare-bummed Charlie streak out of my bedroom.  Sure enough, when I peaked into my closet where he had been playing, I made the horrendous discovery.  A pebble-poop filled, abandoned diaper - along with a few strays - right there in the middle of my closet. 

About a week before that, I saw Wyatt come out of the hallway and stop in his tracks and say, "No, Charlie..... Don't.... Charlie.... No...."  I came in to find Charlie standing half-naked on top of an empty coffee table with his little poop pebbles all over the stinkin' table!?!?  BOY. 

*Side note - I have never been more happy about a little lingering case of constipation that leads to pebbles of poop that are easily picked up instead of that nice healthy, smearing consistency we all enjoy.... *

**Another side note - I apologize for the somewhat graphic nature of this post.  I am trying to use the sweetest language I can to describe such a subject.  But, let's face it, you're the one who decided to read about a post called Poop on a blog called Poop and Hiccups...**

Closet, table, living room floor, bathtub... These are just a few of the locations where the poop bandit tends to strike.

So here's the thing... Does this mean Charlie is thinking about being potty-trained..!?  Wyatt was just over two years and potty trained like a dream... But Charlie isn't even two yet... And I definitely don't want to set both of us up to fail... But if he's telling me something, I don't want to miss the boat...

Any thoughts, dear Poop readers...? 

Full Disclosure

Today was the day that I sang to my mailbox.

Plexus has arrived! 

Today, I received the Tri-Plex combo which includes a 30 day supply of Slim and 60 count of ProBio5 and 120 count of BioCleanse.  THIS, is a great value.

SO it's almost 2 and I think, I guess it's too late to try Slim today.  But my cousin told me she usually takes one around 3 before her afternoon snack.  I can do that!

So I figured it was time to weigh, measure, confess, and really document - with full disclosure - my journey for you all.

I said I was going to share....

Holy wow I can't believe I'm going to type this. 

Here goes.  No judgment.

Weight this morning -  176.  Yes.  176.  And that's down from yesterday.  People always guess my weight and they always guess wrong.  I'm German.  I have big bones.

Measurements:
Bust - 38.5
Waist - 37 - this is one inch below belly button, at my "personality pudge"
Waist at button - 34.5
Hips - 38.25
Thigh - just one - 24.5
Arm - just one - 12.5
Head - 22.5 - Hey, you never know... ;)

I always describe my shape as straight up and down... I'd say I was right...

So there you have it.  I said it.

I'm going to drink my first Slim... It's go time.

I guess I'll update you all later... :)

What's Shakin'...?!

Well, I feel sheepish...

My last post was mid-July.... Eeesh.

To be fair, I composed a long, heartfelt post after my sweet Annie dog had her accident.  But this was really became almost an obituary for her.  As she is still alive and working on her miracle... I felt I needed to save that one...

Then I made a post about Wyatt's first day of preschool!  But, my pictures weren't loading properly so I put that in the vault as well, to work on when I took the time.  I never took the time.

Do you all remember that red computer cabinet I posted about a while back...?  My "office"...?  Well, I have since pulled my computer from that tiny little cabinet and put it on our kitchen table...!  We never really ate at this table - we eat at the dining room table - and it was really our drop zone.  So NOW I have this entire table for my work space...!  The kids have been relatively good about leaving the computer alone.  Success.  I'm so much happier!  And am able to spend more time on the computer without having to open Pandora's little red computer cabinet box.

Now, onto the new business.

If you're reading this, you likely are reading through the Facebook link.  If you have paid any attention at all to Facebook, you've seen one of my now numerous posts about Plexus.  If you haven't found this through Facebook... (That will be shocking...)  Here's a little back story.

One of my sweet cousins in Texas has been using and selling Plexus now for about 4 months.  She posts a LOT on Facebook and I was intrigued.  She immediately started raving to me about the products AND about the company and how quickly it's growing and how many people it's helping.  She explained how I could get involved - either trying the products or trying them as an Ambassador.  I decided to hold off for a bit because we really didn't have a regular income at the time.

Fast forward to last Friday.  I signed up as an Ambassador!  I still haven't tried the products - they should be arriving today.  I cannot wait to try them!

So why in the world did I sign up as an Ambassador if I haven't even tried them...?! 

Well, I have faith.  I have a feeling at least one of their products is going to be a product I just love and don't want to live without!

One of the main reasons I signed up to be an Ambassador, to be honest, is I can get the products cheaper....  Captain Obvious.

Small bonus... I can make some money!  I work all day, every day, with these boys.  But the job pays relatively poorly.  So if I can get a couple dolla, dolla bills out of this journey, why not?

As I'm starting to post more and read and research more about Plexus, I'm getting excited about the company and products, and even more excited, by the interest that has been expressed to me by so many friends!  Even though I haven't tried them, I'm excited.  And especially excited about the idea of going through this with other people. 

Did I say I was excited...?

I share.  Maybe sometimes I overshare.  But from what I hear, some people, certainly not all, appreciate this sharing.  So here I am, sharing.  Maybe oversharing. 

I plan on continuing to tell my story while starting the Plexus products.  Whether it shows up here or just on Facebook, you'll know.  Read, laugh, don't cry.... Ask me questions... Get mad at me.  Laugh at me.  Laugh with me. Just be a part of it.

Speaking of laughing with/at me... I literally just slipped on a grape.  Slipped and busted it.  I hit my shoulder on my dining room credenza and landed on my bum.  True story.  The worst part of the story though, I was carrying sweet Charlie.  Luckily, no babies were injured in the making of my ridiculous fall.  Wyatt was immediately at my side, using his sweet talking and caring voice, tell me he'd always take care of me.... Melt.  Maybe I'm doing something right with him after all.... :)

Poop and Doctors.

Patience is a virtue.

What does that even mean?...!

I know I say it several times in response to working on trying to raise these two boys and maintain my sanity while also trying to be somewhat involved in the community...  Be prepared, I have already decided to have an entire blog post dedicated to this concept of patience.  Another day.

Today we went to the doctor for Charlie's 18 month well-child check.  I intended on Wyatt staying home because I don't want to take a kid who doesn't need to be at the doctor to the doctor.  This wasn't an option today so the three of us loaded up and headed to town.  I expected a relatively simple visit - I was told no shots.  Though I thought there might be a finger prick for lead testing.

While in the dreaded toy area of the office (I'm a germaphobe.. I know this...) Wyatt asked me if there was a bathroom here.  Blast... I didn't make him go before we left home.  I told him yes, and if he could hold it for a bit, we would go while we waited for the doctor back in the room.  Not long after, it was obvious we didn't have that time to wait.

Real life interjection - I just had to go pull Charlie out of my toilet.... What is the obsession there...?  I should know better than trying to blog a little while the boys are still awake... Moving on.

We found the restroom and I picked Wyatt up so he could dangle himself into the toilet to pee.  "No, Mom! I've got to go poop!"  Sigh........ "Okay."

We returned to the dreaded toy area after we wrapped up the potty break.  Five minutes later we were still waiting and a familiar smell begin to fill the dreaded toy area.  Charlie pooped.  Two boys.  Two poops.  Naturally.  I found a spot to change Charles and we were set.

Shortly after, we were escorted to our room and met with the doctor.  This was a bit chaotic.  Both boys trying to climb onto the exam table, crinkling paper, rabbling loudly, arguing over who gets which tractor.  Charlie looks great - developmentally wonderful.  Throat looks beautiful - clear of strep throat.  Ears - red, infected.  Scoff.  Okay. 

Thinking we are nearly done, the doctor asks me if I have interest in the Hepatitis A vaccine.  He recommends it now - schools don't require it but that may be coming.  Now is the perfect time to vaccinate Charlie since we are six months before his next check-up and round of vaccines.  I asked if Wyatt had this because I didn't remember him having a shot at 18 months.  No, he hadn't, but he could be vaccinated at any time.  "Let's do it.  Both of them."

As soon as Wyatt heard he'd be having a shot - it hit the fan.  "I don't want to take a shot! I don't want to take a shot!  I don't want to take a shot!" 

:)  This was hysterical to me.  Any passerby must have thought I was forcing alcohol down my child's throat to get us through this appointment.

Boy did Wyatt get the short end of the stick.  He wasn't even supposed to come to the doctor today.  I told him they weren't going to do anything to him.  And bam.  Before we knew it, he was being held down, screaming from deep within him, with a needle stuck in his strong, worker-man leg.  He was beside himself.  The last time we got a shot (flu shot) he didn't even make a peep.  No tears.  Nothing.  He's much more aware of what's happening every day. 

Charlie made it through his shot with the same scenario.  Momma needed more arms to comfort her betrayed boys.  Wyatt walked down the hallway at the doctor's office, crying the whole way.  We grabbed our sucker "party favors" and out we went.  Smirks and giggles from far more experienced parents in the waiting room serenaded us as we walked out to this beautiful July day.

We headed out to drop off our recycling - which I AM LOVING doing, by the way!  Wyatt is so interested in it and it's really cut down on our trash and back porch clutter. 

Then we headed to the Y for Wyatt's swim lesson.  I had thought of cancelling since I wasn't sure what would happen at the doctor or how it would work out time wise but I'm glad we went.  Charlie and I went swimming also.  Wyatt has made so much progress and can swim pretty well with just his back float.  We are working on head in the water - he just is not a fan of that and his stubbornness that he comes by so honestly is very apparent as he explains to the teacher why he shouldn't have to stick his head in the water. 

Here we are - nearly six hours after our morning adventures began.  God was in my heart this morning - he kept me more patient that I normally would be with poop, shots and screaming children.  Patience is a virtue.


Additional note:
I have so many friends who have more serious struggles - medically, financially -  with their children.  Please do not read this blog and hear the complaints of a mom who really shouldn't be complaining.  I know it's easy to get caught up in the situations that aren't ideal and are somewhat challenging.  I get caught up.  I get dramatic.  I pity myself.  But I also try to find the time to check myself and realize how fortunate we are as a family.  My boys are healthy.  There isn't much that we have to go without.. I just use this blog as a way to share the times that I encounter with my boys and hope some can relate.  I know several others who could write a much more intense take on motherhood and life.  This is just mine.

Hard to Love

At Poop and Hiccups, a lot of time is spent telling stories about the kids and all of the crazy/beautiful times they get us into.  Today, I was making dinner listening to music and a song that I hadn't heard in a long time came on the radio.  I was instantly taken back and inspired to write a little something about my main squeeze. 

The butter to my bread.

The dill to my pickle.

The peanut butter to my jelly.

I'm writing this in the kitchen.  And I'm hungry.

Hard to Love by Lee Brice.  If you don't know this song, you can't continue reading until you stop, google it, listen to it. 

Just over five years ago, Seth and I were married.  Here we are in the same little ol' house Seth moved into 7-8 years ago.  We've added on and added two kids.

This man drives me nuts.  We ebb and flow.  We love each other more than I ever thought I could love someone but we also drive each other more nuts that I ever thought possible.  I think this is normal.  If it's not... don't tell me. 

I think we balance each other.  Pardon the language - but I'm a jackass.  I break out in song and dance randomly, I speak in random accents.  I'm a jackass.

Seth is a serious, hard-working man.  There isn't a day that goes by that Seth doesn't have a list of 20+ things that he is going to try to accomplish that day.  Don't get my wrong, I usually have a fairly impressive to-do list also.  Mine is just hindered by these two little men that moved in with Seth and I over the past few years.

During one of our "you drive me more nuts than anyone I know" moments of life, Seth had done something to scrunch my face into major frustration.  And then, he started singing.  ....

"I'm hard to love, hard to love."

I couldn't do anything but grin. 

This could not be more true. 

I'm not saying this song defines our entire marriage.  I'm sure, like everyone else, we would need an entire album for every different day of the week, month, year.

Going back even further, Seth and I met when we both just 15 at the county fair.  I had gone with a few friends to the teen dance.  I saw Seth.  Seth saw me.  I'm not sure which happened first but Seth, being the suave man that he thinks he is, approached me.  He got my phone number and we spent the summer having a relationship over the phone.  We were 15.... He called me every morning before 7am.  I'm thinking, who in the world is this kid... Up before 7 during the summer and talking about the work he's doing.  Freak.  :)  By the way, I have a feeling this is exactly how little Mr. Wyatt is going to turn out.  There are worse things. :)

Fast forward to the end of the summer and Seth broke my heart by deciding to date some other girl at the state fair.  Really, though, I was pretty upset by this.  I was really enjoying my chats with this guy.

Fast forward even further and we both started dating other people but we always stayed in touch.  He was one of the very few people I would call to just have a chat. 

This is my blog and I'm in charge, so I'm saying this.  Seth spent the next 8 years trying to get me back.  He was always trying to get me to go on a date or out with friends or to this dinner or that wedding.  I played a very good game of hard to get.

But there was always something.  At one point, when I was around 21, I remember having a good couch conversation with one of my dearest friends and I said, "I just feel like I could marry Seth.  I could just see myself ending up with him."

In February of 2008, he convinced me to go on a date.  He likes to say (which is somewhat accurate) that I was drinking a little wine with my mom and she convinced me to give this guy a shot. 

We went on a date.  And another.  And a good ol' country-cruising, go feed the cows date.

In April of 2008 we decided to make it official.  We were in a relationship.

In August of 2008, Seth proposed in the middle of the living room floor.  He bought a ring that day and it was burning a hole in his pocket.

In February of 2009, we were married.

Whirlwind....?  Yeah, you're telling me.

There is just something between us that neither of us can deny and I think it first showed up that summer when we were 15.  God knows what he's doing.  He kept us in each other's life just enough to be intrigued, but knew to keep us away from each other until we were ready to handle the rest of our lives.

We grew up.  Together and apart.

He is ridiculously hard to love sometimes.  And I know I'm the same way - hard to love.  But I love him and the things that he stands for.

Did someone say strep...?

Yesterday, my dad and I were scheduled to go on a secret mission to get a birthday gift for my mom.  We had all the details lined out and were planning a 1:00 p.m. departure.

But life isn't that simple.

All morning, my beautiful Charlie just didn't seem quite right and he was a fuss. budget!  He took a morning nap and when he woke up he felt like a charcoal briquette!  I took his temperature around 10:30 to find he had a 103 degree fever.  ?!  Charles !? 

The secret mission was being threatened!  I had arranged for my mother-in-law to keep the boys after lunch - through naptime - until the evening when I returned.  I texted her to tell her that Charlie had a fever - we both assumed he had an ear infection because he had been tugging at his ears for nearly two weeks.  I didn't think a whole lot about it - he hadn't been overly fussy and he was sleeping fine - I just figured he was being 18 months old and touching everything.  He has also gotten two molars in the last couple weeks so I associated any possible issues with the teeth.

Thank goodness for a mother-in-law who isn't afraid of a fever.  May I add here - my mother-in-law feel off her ass and broke her ass several weeks ago... (It's okay that I say this... because she has said it before... :)  )  So not only is she not getting around in her typical fashion - but she's going to watch my boys for me AND one of them has a fever.  Bless her.

I dropped the boys off and had a wonderfully successful secret mission.

Later that night, I arrived to pick up Charlie, and he was a sad little sight.  He was pretty tender, had just been laying around on Memaw for the majority of the time, and again, he was on FIRE.

When I got him home, I discovered he had 103.6 fever.  OMgoodness!?  I tried not to get too concerned - figuring it had been several hours since Tylenol.  I gave him a dose of Ibuprofen and he fell asleep promptly at 8.

An hour later, I went in to check his temperature and was pleased to find it had already dropped to 100-101.  I really had a sneaking suspicion I was going to find a 104+ fever and we were going to have to head to the emergency room - again..... (Still paying for the last trip, by the way...)

Charlie slept beautifully.  He didn't make a peep all night and woke up around 9 in the morning.  He was still just a little feverish but seemed to have a little more pep, and an appetite - thank goodness!

Still, I thought, we need to get this boy to the doctor to find out what caused this fever.

Fast forward to 3:30.

Don't confuse this look with joy.  Momma is becoming a master in distraction.

 



Here I sit in the doctor's office with my child who hates going to the doctor.  They said his ears didn't look too bad - but his throat looked awful!  .................... My back slumped and I prepared for the hideous news.

Awaiting our test results.

They tested for strep.  Boom.  Positive.

AGAIN!?

Turns out, the doctor thinks Charlie probably didn't completely recover from his last go-around with strep.  Since the amoxicillin-serum-sickness-ridonkulously-dramatic episode not long ago, we've been using precaution with any antibiotics.  She had prescribed azythromiacin  for five days.  Odds are, five days just didn't quite kick the strep.

I felt relieved knowing that we caught this early enough to treat and no longer be contagious for the upcoming holiday.  That relief quickly faded to fear that Wyatt, Seth, or myself, would come down with strep just in time for closed doctor's offices and holiday parties.

Long story short....?  Or is it too late for that...?

I am not typically this person.  But.  I called one of our family doctor's and asked if he could maybe prescribe antibiotics for the rest of us.  Like I said, I wouldn't typically jump the gun and ask for treatment, but knowing my luck, one or several of us would wake up on Friday morning and have a fever and be getting this little fun-sucker.  Also, Charlie and I just shared a popsicle on the deck a couple of days ago. ......

They said they could help me and they could help Seth, but they don't see patients under 16 so Wyatt was out of luck.  They asked if we had any allergies, "No." and they called in prescriptions.  Saved.

I made a mercy call back to the boys' regular doctor and explained, "I would not typically ask for this - I would wait for a fever or some other symptoms, but I'm just worried Wyatt will catch this just in time for a long weekend."  Amazingly, and thankfully, they obliged and called in a prescription for Wyatt.

We killed our time by making a trip to Wal-Mart (also, I don't make a habit of taking my sick kid out in public... but we use a cart cushion and he really sat quietly sucking his sucker.... so stop judging.... you do what you can...)  Wal-Mart at 4:30 is the death of me.  I'm a 9:00 a.m. Wal-Mart shopper.  We made it through our list in decent time and after the typical check-out line drama, we were free.

Off to the pharmacy.

Didn't I say long story short... Sorry, I guess I lied.

Giving four different names for prescription pick up confused the daylights out of people... They had received one for Charles, but not for Wyatt, Seth or Lindsey.  Not long after, all of the prescriptions had been called in.  As I sat, they called out the drive-up window and asked if I was allergic to Sulfa. 

....... Yes......... "Well they called in a 'script with Sulfa for you."

$&#(%*Q!*#*)(%)(#*%)@($*%)@(#*%)(@$*

In my scatter-brained worry filled haze, I forgot to tell the doctor's office, "Yes, I'm allergic to sulfa."

Okay, I will have to call them tomorrow and ask for a different prescription.

Three different rounds of "It'll be 5-10 minutes" later, I had left with three prescriptions to protect my family from strep.

I was spent. 

Final note on the subject - the doctor asked to see Charlie again in about 14 days, after he had completed his antibiotics, to confirm that we had gotten rid of the strep.  So get excited, Charles Henry, two weeks from now you get another stick down your throat.

All because we love you...  ;)