preemies

The Best Laid Birthday Plans Go Awry. #birthdayFAIL

November 20, 2013 by Toulouse 10 Comments

This post is sponsored by Hallmark but, as always, the stories, thoughts and opinions are all mine.

2012 will forever be known in our household as the Year of the Preemie. There was bed rest. There was a 29-weeker. There was the NICU. There was an apnea monitor and a feeding tube taped to his face that lasted all the way to 2013.

We were so thankful, when on February 28, 2013 (over a year after his birth), Meyer passed his 4th swallow study (FAIL, FAIL, FAIL, PASS!) and we got to take out the feeding tube and let him drink from a bottle instead of dumping his milk straight into his chubby little tummy.

So you can imagine that after this 14-month ordeal where every single thing we thought or did was focused on our kids, Gabe and I were ready for a little adult-style celebration. We chose my May 5 birthday (29th, of course) and bought tickets to Shaky Knees musical festival. 2 of my besties planned to join us for some serious festival fun.

Let me tell ya, there’s hardly any time nicer in Atlanta, Ga than early May. The temperature is warm but not hot. Skies are blue. I knew my day would be celebrated with sun on my face, a beer in my hand and great live music! Birthday heaven.

Finally! May 5 dawned bright and sunny.

Nope. Nope, it didn’t. The day barely dawned at all — because thick, gray clouds were covering the entire sky and the temperature insisted it was February, not May. To makes matters even more miserable, there was a nonstop downpour of rain. Birthday hell.

But my friends were in town, our tickets were paid for, so there was nothing else to do but suck it up, put on a bunch of layers and rain gear and go.

I figured if I had enough birthday cocktails, I could make the weather go away. Amirite?

We tried really hard to make it work even though we looked like a wet box of crayola crayons. See those forced smiles? There are chattering teeth behind them. Not even a couple of double margaritas could make me forget my wet, chilled bones. If you’re counting, that’s 4 margaritas. But who’s counting?

As good as it was to see my friends, my birthday turned out to be mostly misery. We were freezing, dirty, wet and outta there.

Proving that sometimes the best laid birthday plans turn into a #birthdayfail.

Hallmark has some pretty funny examples of birthday fails on their Facebook page but my favorite by far is this little video from those freaking crazy Duck Dynasty guys.

You can see loads of other funny #birthdayfails on the Hallmark Facebook page here.

And after all this evidence, I’m thinking you should just go ahead and send a Hallmark card to all your closest loved ones for their birthdays because if all else fails, at least you’ve found a lasting way to say you love them on their birthday and always.

Hey, that was pretty good — I should write for Hallmark. (Call me!)

Just to make sure you’re prepared for a #birthdaywin, I’ve got a 10-card pack of assorted Hallmark birthday cards (a $40 value) for one lucky winner. Just leave a comment below and I’ll pick a winner Wednesday, November 27th.

This post is sponsored by Hallmark but as always, the stories, thoughts and opinions are my own.

Filed Under: Giveaways, Reviews/Sponsored Posts Tagged With: #birthdayfail, #birthdaywin, Hallmark, music festivals, preemies, Shaky Knees

8 Funny Ways to Entertain Yourself At The Doctor’s Office.

May 1, 2013 by Toulouse 11 Comments

Disclaimer: This is a JOKE. Of course, I respect all medical personnel and would never put my saliva all over their tongue depressors or intentionally set off alarms on a blood pressure machine. Ask anyone.

My family had it a little rough in the medical arena last year. If you’re new here, you might want to click here. And here. And maybe here just to catch up.

Things have turned out amazingly well for us in the long run. The baby is a year old (corrected age) and 100% fine and dandy even after all that extended preemie drama.

But let’s just say that between my bed rest, his 2 1/2 month NICU stay and the subsequent doctor and therapy visits that sometimes numbered 7 per week (yes, that’s right…more than one doctor and/or therapy visit on at least 2 of those weekdays), it was quite the challenge.

As you must be able to predict, I did a lot of waiting around. A LOT of waiting around.

Still do, of course. Just not 7 times per week.

When I wasn’t holding my arm up as high as it would go tube-feeding the baby, or lifting him and his heart monitor onto a changing table in a cramped bathroom to relieve him of a dirty diaper, or twiddling my thumbs or moving from the main waiting room to the sub-waiting room to the exam room and then waiting some more, I developed some interesting ways to entertain myself.

Even though you may not be at the doctor 7 times per week, if you have kids, you’re there often enough. And you know what I’m saying when I talk about waiting.

About a month ago, I went to one of the baby’s doctors (and this is a specialist that’s very hard to get into so you just have to take what you get) and after driving 40 minutes to the office in time for my 9:30am appointment, sat in the waiting room with a squirmy baby until 12:45pm without even making it into an exam room. And then sat in the exam room until 1:30pm waiting on the doctor. And then barely got an apology. I’d had a 1-year-old climbing on me like a human jungle gym for 4 HOURS. He’d had no nap. He’d had very little food (since silly me thought we’d be home by lunch time from a 9:30am appt). So, yeah. I wasn’t amused. And the doctor could tell when he finally graced us with his presence.

So, because I think you should benefit from my extensive year-long research into the matter, I am here to teach you 8 creative ways to pass the time while you wait at doctor’s office. And wait. And wait. And. wait.

1. Learn how you could’ve made 1 Million Dollars. Back in 1987.

2. Guess how many tongue depressors are in the jar. Take them out and count them. If your guess was within 10 in either direction, you win. Lick them all then put them back in the jar.

3. Find reading materials that will inspire you to diet by making sure you never want to eat things like nuts or sausage ever ever ever again.

4. Run in place until you can’t breathe, then hook yourself up to the blood pressure machine and press go. See how long it takes for someone to finally enter the room.

5. Rate your spelling capabilities against those of the medical personnel in the office you’re visiting. If you find errors, circle them and write in the correct spelling with a pen from your purse. Then write, “Guess medical school doesn’t teach you everything, does it, dummy!”

6. Mess with the computer even though the sign says don’t mess with the computer. Cancel the doctor’s 4pm massage.

7. Make every hand gesture you can think of with vinyl exam gloves. Tape them up around the exam room. Pretend you don’t see anything unusual when the doctor enters the room.

8. Pretend you’re 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea. Announce “There She Blows!” to the doctor when she finally walks into the room.

I’ve shared with you my 8 tried and true (funny) ways to entertain myself while waiting on doctors. Try them. You’ll laugh. You’ll cry. You’ll laugh while you cry. And you’ll probably come up with some more. PLEASE share them with me. I can only read so many magazines from 1987 before I get the yen to start wearing jellies again. And that would be, like, totally gnarly, dude.

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Filed Under: Funny Lists, Mommy stuff, rants Tagged With: doctor, emergency, exam gloves, medical, NICU, preemies, therapy, waiting, waiting room

Talking to Strangers

July 19, 2012 by Toulouse 2 Comments

Talking to strangers is, well, let’s be honest…not something I’m into.

I’m not that big of a talker period.

I don’t enjoy talking on the phone. I don’t even enjoy talking in person much of the time.

Every now and then, I’ll end up in an actual interesting conversation with someone and then I’ll think — wow, this talking thing isn’t so bad.

But inevitably, the interesting portion of that conversation will end and then it’s on to talking about things I’ve already talked about/listened to at least 300 times.

Yawn.

My husband, on the other hand, just looooves to talk.

He likes to talk to people he knows. He likes to talk to people he doesn’t know. He likes to talk on the phone. He likes to talk in person. He likes to both talk and listen.

We have a lot in common.

But this is not one of those things.

I think it’s interesting, in a why-would-you-start-that kind of way, that he’ll talk to complete strangers in a restaurant, grocery store or even a parking lot.

I’m the person who puts my ipod speakers in my ears the second I get on a plane so the person next to me doesn’t start a conversation.

I’m not a total bitch. I promise.

I’m just not much into chit-chat.

As I explain to my husband when he marvels at my lack of interest in chewing the fat, there are only so many words allotted to any given person in a day and he uses up 100% of his and 80% of mine, so what am I supposed to do?

But I like it that way.

THIS

So imagine my surprise when I started going out and about with a preemie who has an apnea monitor and a feeding tube. And everywhere I go, people start asking me about him, or telling me their preemie stories.

It would be impossible for me to tell you how many of these experiences I’ve had in the last few months since Meyer came home from the hospital.

A lot.

He can’t exactly stay with a babysitter, so I drag him everywhere I go.

And people stop me.

In malls. Doctor offices. Grocery stores. At Asher’s preschool. On the sidewalk. In the drugstore. At the dog groomer. At festivals. And once, in a public bathroom.

Which is kinda weird.

But the weirdest thing of all is that I don’t mind it so much.

At least 75% of these people end up sharing preemie stories with me.

They were preemies, they had a preemie, their sister or neighbor had a preemie.

And without fail, everyone of them then tells me how great the kid is doing today.

Even 29-weekers like Meyer are winning spelling bees, quarterbacking football teams, performing original music in Europe, and acing their SATs.

It makes me smile. And feel a real sense of community.

And feel really good about my baby’s chances of being whatever kind of talented, accomplished or even just happy person he wants to be.

He’s already paying me back by being the best baby ever put on the planet.

We may have gone through some serious stuff for a few months.

There’s no “may” about it.

But I think he’s paying us back by being as little trouble as he can be from here on out.

Which makes him easy to drag all over the place all the time.

And puts us in public places where people want to talk to me all the time.

And for once, I kinda like it.

Maybe I should open myself up to general chit-chat with strangers more often?

After all, there’s bound to be some aspect of the weather I haven’t discussed with the postman 30 or 40 times.

Eh. That sounds hard.

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Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: chatting, conversation, preemies, public places, strangers, talking, words

I'm Alive. Sorta.

April 26, 2012 by Toulouse 6 Comments

I sincerely hope you can be pacified by some photos.

I have never had so little time in my life.

I want to write.

I swear.

But dear Lord.

I had kinda forgotten how hard this baby stuff is.

Plus last time I did it, I didn’t have a crazy 4-year-old to deal with too.

Plus there’s all the added extracurricular activities that come with a preemie.

Between Meyer, Asher and I, we had 7 medical appointments this week.

SEVEN.

Read ‘em and weep.

Today, for example, Meyer had 2 different doctor appointments.

We were out so long, I tube fed him in the car 3 times.

If you’re driving along and you look at the car next to you, and you see an infant car seat with a big tube full of milk hanging from the bar…hey, it’s me.

One of our doctor appointments this week was for me.

Because on top of all this, I got strep throat.

And Gabe left town on business.

Dear Lord.

Funny thing though.

I remember thinking all this newborn stuff (because that’s essentially what Meyer is even though he’s technically 3 months old) was sooo hard when Asher was born. And all I had to do was take care of him. And he was a regular, full-term baby with no issues. And Gabe was in law school and around a lot more than he is now.

I laugh at my innocence.

That was nothing.

Now I juggle a 4-year-old and a preemie with medical appointments out the wazoo.

And when he yanks the feeding tube out, I thread it back into his nostril, down his throat and into his belly.

I find it kind of unbelievable myself.

And I do this while my husband’s out of town and I have strep.

Ya know, my very first post 2 years ago was called “I Am No Super Mom.”

I take it back.

I am a Super Mom.