A comedy of errors. . .otherwise known as "My life."

I just thought yesterday was bad. . .yesterday involved a trip to Target to get groceries. . .after I got the kids in the car to go, I realized that my car battery was once again dead, and I had to deal with that before I could go anywhere. (It's going to the dealer soon.)


Made it to Target, only to realize that my wallet wasn't in the diaper bag. Transaction had to be suspended, cart was taken to customer service, and I drove 20 minutes back home to get my wallet. . .and 20 minutes back to Target to actually purchase my cartload. Korvin was rather fed up with the whole thing by the time we got back in the car to go home AGAIN, and screamed for an hour just to make sure I got the message.


THAT was a piece of cake compared to this evening. 


Kadence decided not to go to sleep when she was supposed to, and came downstairs after I had gotten Korvin to sleep. In the ensuing battle to get her back to bed, she woke him up. When this happens, he views whatever sleep he had as a nap, and is up for several hours before it's even possible to get him back to sleep.


Mom was home by then, so I decided to let her play with Korvin, and make formula so I wouldn't have to do it later.


Later might have been better.


I dropped pretty much every lid to every bottle/container I had to open. That was really starting to annoy me. 


Part of the water gets heated, and I put the oils and the gelatin in the warm water, which then gets put in the blender, or the Magic Bullet. This time, it was the Magic Bullet. This is the last time it will be the Magic Bullet. . .because it drowned. Really. 


Somehow, during the blending process the lid came partially unscrewed, which caused liquid to go flying all over the nearby wall/cabinets/etc, and went all the way through the base of the bullet (where the magic happens). Pretty sure all the magic is gone now.


One of the oils used is fermented cod liver oil. My entire kitchen smelled like fish. I HATE fish, and their oils. The smell made me gag. . .but this time, I didn't go for the chocolate milk. . .or the vodka. LOL 


As I started cleaning it up, Mom asked what was wrong, and I told her, and said that I'd probably be doing better if I was drunk. . .meaning that I couldn't possibly be making a bigger mess of things.


I was wrong.


Normally, this is a fairly quick process. I've been doing it so long, it doesn't really require that much effort. However, all the accidents and resulting pauses to clean up messed with my process.


I THOUGHT I was almost finished. As I was finishing up and pouring in the whey, I realized a huge problem. . .and started yelling at myself, jumping around and banging my head against the sink. . .and laughing like a maniac. Why?

On the left, you have the jug of formula. . .on the right you have. . .well, now it's buttermilk. I just ruined half a gallon of milk. Thankfully, tomorrow is pick-up day with the co-op and I'll have more milk. 


Unfortunately, now I have to strain more yogurt to get more whey to finish making formula.


It takes awhile. The yogurt goes in cheesecloth, which I then hang from the microwave and let drip into a measuring cup. This has never been a problem before. . .but of course, it would be today. The yogurt filled cheesecloth slipped out, and splashed into the whey. . .making yet another mess to clean up. 


Anyway, now all that's left is the whey.

How long does this process take?

2 bottles of rum, 2 bottles of Coke, and 2 bottles of Dr. Pepper. That's how long. 


Ok, I'm kidding. :) Seriously though, it will be hanging there overnight. 


Now, I'm going to find a non-empty bottle of rum, and make use of it as soon as Patrick gets home.


I can't WAIT to see what tomorrow holds. . .wait, tomorrow's Friday. . .it can't be that bad. . .


. . .I hope!

This is my reminder

Most people think when God doesn't give them what they prayed for, that he just didn't answer their prayers. He did. . .the answer just isn't always yes. Sometimes, it's no. Sometimes, it's neither. But all prayers get answered just the same.

When Korvin was born, I got exactly the birth experience that I wanted, and prayed for. There were quite a few weeks leading up to it that I was prepared for the answer to be something other than yes. . .but in the end, I was given exactly what I wanted.

Looking back, I think I got exactly what I wanted then to help me deal with everything that would come after. Things I hadn't thought about. Things I didn't realize I needed to pray about. Things that were completely unexpected.

Nursing the first week was pure torture. The pain was unbelievable. His tongue and lip tie made latching a long and arduous process, and he could just as easily slip off, and we'd have to start all over. I thought once he had the procedure to correct the problem when he was 8 days old, everything would be better. . .but the problems had just begun.

His latch was so much better, and eventually the pain subsided, but he still had problems. He didn't like nursing on the right side. His neck was always twisted at a weird angle. He still nursed FREQUENTLY like something else was wrong. We started physical therapy when he was about a month and a half. By that point, we were having to supplement a few oz of goat's milk a day.

The soft tissue in his mouth was very tight; a result of the tongue tie. One side of his jaw was locked. His left hip was also locked. As those issues started being resolved, new issues arose. He cried when he ate. He choked frequently. He had reflux.

Reflux meds made everything worse, so we took him to a gastrointerologist, who sent him to have a barium swallow done. His physiology was fine, but his suck reflex was too strong. It was over developed from having to work so hard because of the tongue tie, and the residual tightness in his mouth. Once that had been resolved, he didn't have to work so hard; but he didn't know that. He couldn't control it. His liquids had to be thickened to keep him from choking. He stopped nursing. November 14th was the last time he did, and it was only for a few minutes.

I prayed. I wasn't ready for that. I didn't want it to end. I went to exclusively pumping, and making formula since I couldn't pump enough. I prayed that would change. I prayed he would figure it out, and start nursing again. The answer was no. Why? I don't know. Probably never will.

I pumped exclusively for 70 days. Yesterday was my last. I wasn't ready. I didn't want to stop. I needed my baby to have breast milk. It was so important to me. The last few weeks I've known it was coming. I was getting less, and less each time. The amount of time I was putting into it wasn't worth it. I knew that. But I didn't want to stop. I prayed.

It was time for me to stop. Despite all my efforts, and everything I tried, I was drying up. I wasn't ready. I WASN'T READY. I cried. . .a lot. I prayed. . .a lot. The answer? Well, the answer wasn't what I expected.

In the space of a week, 4 friends offered me their extra milk. That's not something I would have asked for, but something I'll gladly accept. 4 friends who were willing to share something with my son that was SO important. 4 friends that God used to show me that He could provide what I could not, and that it was time for me to let go.

Letting go is hard. . .especially when it's something so important to me. It's a lesson I've been taught many times before, but never had time to prepare for. . .and therefore, never fully learned. This might be the first time I've let go, and been at peace. Ridiculous you might say, but it's something any nursing mother could understand. Other friends that are nursing and myself have said many times that whoever said "don't cry over spilt milk" clearly never breastfeed/pumped. It's a big freakin' deal. I have no more milk to spill. I'm still sad. I'm actually crying right now. . .but I'm at peace.

I'm ready.

I'm going to put my pump away. Then I'm going to look in my deep freezer, and thank God for all the milk that He provided through my friends. Then I'm going to go to bed. . .and I'm going to be ok, because my son has been provided for.

366 Project: Week 3

Sunday (Day 15)
January 15, 2012

He didn't want his bottle. . .he wanted Grandma Patsy's. . .which he bathed both of them with.

Monday (Day 16)

January 16, 2012

Playing together before bed.


Tuesday (Day 17)
January 17, 2012

Dried apples. . .his new favorite teething solution. :)

Wednesday (Day 18)

January 18, 2012

Dear Kadence,

When I told you to go clean your room, this is not

what I meant. . .but thank you for being thourough.

Love, Mommy

Thursday (Day 19)

January 19, 2012

Fell down and bumped her nose. Band-Aids fix everything. :)

Friday (Day 20)

January 20, 2012

Mr. Impatience didn't want to wait for Daddy to sit down and feed him. . .so he grabbed the bottle, and decided to just do it himself. Not the first time. lol

Saturday (Day 21)

January 21, 2012

Kadence was sharing her apple with the baby. . .and every time she let him have a "bite," she wiped the whole apple off. I would too. lol

Hardheaded? I blame the headboard.

Patrick and I nearly woke Korvin up the other night when we were talking (quietly), and laughing (not so quietly) about how Kadence remembers everything, and randomly spews information about something she heard/saw/did a year + ago. Patrick said he wished she'd just forget things sometimes. I told him that for all he knows, she remembers the headboard incident from when she was 4 months old. . .which led to discussing the ways he responsible for both children's issues.


Korvin's damage story was already told in this post here. . .and yes, I do blame all of the issues on the vodka. Tongue and lip ties? Vodka. Jaw and mouth issues? Vodka. Neck and hip issues? Vodka. Overdeveloped suck reflex, and resulting swallowing issues? Vodka. :)


This is the story I blame all of Kadence's issues on. Memory of an elephant? Headboard. Stubborn and hardheaded? Headboard.


When she was about 4 months old, Patrick was on the bed playing with her. He was lying on his back with her on his knees doing ab exercises. He held her hands and was straightening his legs, and then bringing them to his chest. She was giggling and having a great time.


When he was finished, as he pulled his legs in one last time, he let go of her hands so he could grab her when his knees got to his chest. . .only this time, she kicked with her legs, and launched herself off of his knees straight into the headboard.


She was, of course, screaming. He immediately picked her up, of course, panicking. She started screaming louder, so I took her him, and told him to go get her an ice pack (she had a little "Boo Bear" in the freezer). Pretty much as soon as he left the room, she stopped crying. When he came back, she resumed screaming at him. She wasn't really hurt. . .just very angry. . .with him.


He came rushing back with his arms full. Yeah, full. He had:

• a frozen tube of ground beef
• a ziplock bag
• a tray of ice cubes
• a frozen mug
• a cold bottle of vodka

He started frantically setting things on the bed, clearly having no clue what to do. I looked at the collection and quizzically asked "Are we getting her drunk. . .and making hamburgers?"

His started to explain. His reasoning was that I could put the meat, vodka or cold mug on her head while he put the ice cubes in the ziplock bag to make an ice pack. I asked what was wrong with the little gel boo bear ice pack she had in the freezer. He forgot we had that.

It took awhile for me to stop laughing. It took awhile for him to calm down. Kadence ended up being fine. . .except for the stubbornness and hardheaded issues. ;)