Having a Baby is Like Playing Minecraft.

Super Graphics!!!!!! 

Those of you that know me know that I'm a huge nerd. And husband and I love playing games. One of our favorite games is Minecraft. Ever heard of it? If you have $20 and want something fun (and not complicated) to do on your computer, you should download Minecraft.

Essentially, it's a "sandbox" game...meaning it's like you're playing in a sandbox. You can build whatever you want out of the materials around you.  

A nice house built from scratch.

Want to build a castle out of glass? Want to have a tower that goes all the way up to the clouds? And underwater lair? 


The possibilities are limitless. Kinda like having a baby. 

You imagine all the things you can build into your new creation. You can make her have a great vocabulary. You can foster a sense of humor that would make Seinfeld look like the clear eyes guy. (You know, the teacher on Ferris Bueller. "Bueller...Bueller...")  


You will teach her math and her ABC's so she aces kindergarten (if it still exists in 5 years). Maybe you'll teach her how to shoot baskets so that in 20 years she is supporting you with her pro-basketball career.

Then you actually have the baby. And you take her home. This would be the first "night" in Minecraft.

In Minecraft, here is how the game goes. Yes, you can build whatever you want. Yes, the possibilities are endless...BUT.

"OH HI!!! I will explode and destroy everything around me!"

But you start out in the middle of an unexplored wilderness. Just you and your bare hands. You have to take down a tree with your bare hands to build an axe and shovel and then you use those tools to get more things to build a makeshift shelter. You have to do this quickly because before you know it, it will be night. (In the real world, this is like your first day home with baby).

Nighttime is when all the monsters come out. They try to kill you. Some of them will come right up to you and explode on you. Others will just hide in the trees and shoot you with arrows. If you didn't build your shelter quickly enough you will die. A bunch.

When we first brought Emerald home, it was just like that. Survival mode. I didn't sleep for the first two days, except when I would pass out while feeding her for a few minutes. I was constantly checking for monsters: does she have a temperature? is she too cold? is she breathing alright? is she eating enough? why doesn't she have enough wet diapers? (oh boy, i regret worrying about this one...SO MANY DIAPERS now!) why is she crying? 

"WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME?? FIX IT FIX IT FIX IT!!!!!"

AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

It's very frightening, and you pray for "daylight" when the monsters go away and you can breathe again. And focus on building your masterpiece in peace. For me, the daylight came about two? weeks later. We had a lot of sleepless nights full of monsters. Some nights she would just cry for HOURS. Why? I still don't know. Some nights I would spend 45 minutes feeding her, she would sleep for 15-30 mins, then wake up to repeat the 45 minute process again.


 ALL NIGHT. 

This is a very frightening sight.

Your boobs feel like they've been shot with arrows. Your head feels like it has been exploded.


People tell you about those "sleepless nights" but it's way different living them. You are fighting a dozen monsters every night.

But eventually, the day does come, and you can enjoy your baby. You can start building the best person you can. You start finding those rare "diamonds". How she smiles when you smile. How she loves to kick her feet.  How she likes to pause in the middle of eating just to look up and smile at you. How she can consciously grab a toy and actually hold onto it. All those amazing things that make being a parent worth it.

My little Emerald

If you can just survive the night.

Saying Goodbye

Yesterday, I took my cat Midnight to the vet.
 Again.


 For the better part of the year, I have tried to figure out what's happened with her...This spring/summer she started vomiting a lot. First it was once every couple days, then it was daily. We tried lots of things: blood tests (normal), exams, changes in diet, medicine... Still vomiting.

The previous time I went to the vet, I was pretty disappointed in the whole situation because I waited 2 hours in the waiting room only to be seen by a vet for about 5 minutes. I had to point out that Midnight had lost 1/2 a pound. I'm pretty sure she didn't even look at the chart at all. She didn't actually exam my cat or anything. When I tried to show her a picture of my cat's vomit on my camera (so she could possibly use it for diagnosis) she said she wouldn't look at it because it makes her sick. 


Come on.


It's not like I'm trying to show the cashier at Safeway. I'm showing someone WHOSE JOB IT IS to diagnose and care for various pet diseases. WTF.


So, I took her home and tried a prescription diet. It didn't work. Slowly she started eating less and less and losing weight pretty rapidly. The past few days she has hardly touched her food. And about 3 days ago I woke up and found she had vomited blood all over the floor. 

I knew it was serious and I took her to the vet, again, hoping for a better examination.... which we got.


This vet came in having already read the chart (I have been going there for 4 years so they have all information on her). She asked lots of questions. She examined my cat.She looked at her teeth and gums, she took her pulse and heart rate, she felt her stomach.... and that's when she found it.


 A tumor the size of a golf ball.


The other vet didn't do any of that examination stuff. Maybe she would have found a lump to clue us in earlier... 


Anyways, at the time, I was so grateful that the vet actually did her job and as a result we got answers. However, when I got the answer, I couldn't hold it in. Luckily, Jeremiah was there because when she told us I was a blubbering fool. I couldn't stop crying. 
I'm sure the pregnancy hormones are amplifying things a little...I just couldnt hold it in at all. The vet gave us some privacy. I couldn't stop crying the whole time I was there. I had to leave the vet office through the back exit.


We were given a few options. We could spend hundreds of dollars (which we don't have) on an ultrasound and additional tests. Then even more money on attempting surgery/treatment (if it is even possible). Chances are it's so big, it is too late to fix and has intertwined itself with organs so separating it would likely kill her anyways.


Or, we could try to make her as comfortable as possible in the few days she has left with us, using the time to say goodbye...and then put her to sleep before she starts suffering too badly.


It's one of the hardest choices I've ever had to make.


She's only 4 years old. I've had her since she was 8 weeks (we adopted her early because she was the runt of the litter and probably would have died as a kitten). We had to feed her formula in tiny little dipping sauce bowls...she could hardly hold her head up, and would "come up for air" with milk all over her whiskers and chin and nose. 

She has been our baby these past 4 years when we couldn't have a real baby. She is a part of our family. Last night, I wrote by the light of the Christmas tree a list of all my favorite Midnight memories. 

It's just like losing an important person, because she has been our family member all these years. I can't even put into words how hard this is for me. Every single time I think about it, I start crying...and I hardly ever cry.


I will just have to pick her up as much as possible, and feed her all her favorite things (even though she only takes a few bites), and just enjoy these last few days with my baby.




And now, a bunch of pictures of my cat.

Baby Midnight on my shoulder

Midnight following Ebony. Ebony acting disinterested.

Cat in a pocket. Just in case.

Just a few weeks old! So small!

Cuddling on my lap...her favorite!

They had a wrestling match and Jeremiah lost. Now she is asserting her dominance.

She had a hunger that only hands could satisfy.

"So *THIS* is how you be a nerd!"

Two too-cute cuties.

Okay, just a few more!

Her favorite thing, whenever I'm walking anywhere, is to fall at my feet. Jeremiah's mom wanted to name her Underfoot.

Just a box of cat.

Walked in on them cuddling in the guest room. Look at Ebony's leg!

Christmas Card photo. Midnight was the only one willing to pose in the photo.

Another Underfoot pic.

She loves bags!

Montana vs. Washington

Sorry for the delay in blog postings. I'd like to say it was because I have been so busy having a jam-packed fun-filled summer, but the truth is I'm just quite lazy. And that laziness compounds during the summer. From now on, I promise to at least THINK about trying to post more often. We'll see how that goes.




We just got back from Montana this last week. My mom and brothers live there (well, one is in Iraq right now, but he usually lives there), as well as my Grandma and most of my aunts and uncles. My uncle and his girlfriend just had a baby while we were there. It's strange to me that I will have cousins about as old as our yet-to-be-born child. Is that strange to anyone else??


Anyways, it's about a 10 hour drive to Montana in the summer. Okay, make it twelve. I have to pee a lot. Jeremiah always complains about it. Like I can flip a switch and make it so I only have to pee once a week like him. Maybe next time I will buy a few gallons of Gatorade and just go to town on them, and THEN he will see what peeing a lot really looks like.

Because that's what marriage is all about.




Moving on to the subject at hand...


Montana is very beautiful. The air is clean, the water is delicious (not so great to wash hair with because it is filled with minerals), and the view is spectacular. I hate taking pictures, so I never take any. But a lot of my facebook friends take pictures that remind me of the awesome majesty of Montana. It really is a nice place to visit. Here is a picture I didnt take:

There are more awesome pictures at this blog: http://www.bloggersbase.com/travel/montana-glacier-country/
I didn't read any of the words, just looked at the pictures...so don't blame me if it is all about a secret militia compound in Montana or something.




Aside from the neighborly people, the freedom and privacy, the beauty, and the remoteness..Montana also has the craziest weather.

You can't plan for anything.


Here's a day in Montana:
Wake up, see a bright blue sun-shiny day. Dress in summer clothes. Go outside. Get drenched by a surprise thunderstorm. Go home, get an umbrella. Go back outside. Sun is back. Put umbrella away. When going back outside, get pummeled by dogs rushing inside for safety. Listen carefully. SURPRISE THUNDER AND LIGHTNING STORM. Rinse, repeat.


I swear, the weather changed like 5 times (super sun/thunder lightning/rain storm/sun...) at my brother's wedding last year. We had to rush our outside pictures to avoid the sporadic rain.




And then, here is a WEEK in Washington:
Clouds.
Clouds.


Brighter Clouds.
Darker Clouds.
Clouds, Clouds Clouds
Sun trying really hard to shine through the clouds.
Back to Clouds.

If you wake up and are lucky enough to have a blue sky, it generally stays that way.
I can't remember the last time I've seen a thunderstorm here.




It is always an adventure in the outdoors of Montana!

Summer Cleaning

It's summertime! As a teacher I finally have the time that I didn't during the school year...


Thus, "spring" cleaning becomes "summer" cleaning. This year it is compounded by a little psychotic episode people like to cute-ify by calling it "nesting".

So anyways, here I am at 11:00 at night pulling EVERYTHING off the shelves, going through all my clothes (I've gotten rid of 5 garbage bags full of clothes so far!) and organizing the HELL out of everything. I like organizing things, and giving everything a nice place and I like the idea of putting things into that nice place. 


However, I am also very very lazy, so usually what happens is I KNOW where things go, I just don't care.


Yes, this lovely shirt belongs on a hanger in my closet, but the living room floor is just so much closer.

Yes, this book has a spot right on the bookshelf when I finish reading it, but this stack of read books on the bedside table is getting impressively tall. I think I'll just add to the Jenga book tower.

So you see, with my laziness it is a never-ending battle. But the thing that is different this year is the SUPER-organizing part. I'm going through boxes of papers that I have had since high school. Books that I got for free years ago and never read and never intend to read. I inherited hoarding from my grandma (she has about 50 packages of jello in her pantry, and had about 5 black garbage bags full of those empty cookie tins you get at Christmastime), and my mother (not quite as bad, but still her voice nags me in my head whenever I think about throwing stuff away... "YOU CAN STILL USE THIS JOSIE!!!"). Not only must I battle the laziness, I must also battle the packratiness.

I ended up throwing a lot of stuff away, and giving away more stuff. I decided to keep some of my "memories" from school, particularly high school and community college. Aside from a bunch of inappropriate drawings done during extremely boring math classes, I also had some funny (maybe just to me) notes and comics.

Next time I will share something from community college. I started writing down funny quotes people would say...so if you went to GHC with me, you might be featured in my posting! 




Now for some coffee.

Hearing Test....or Brainwashing Session?

 Yesterday I had a hearing test.


 For those of you who don't know, I've had lots and lots of troubles with my ears ever since childhood...3 ear tube surgeries, countless infections, bad hearing (I was even in Speech as a child because of it), and this last July I had a hole in my eardrum fixed. Luckily it was the summer, so I could recover in peace and not worry about work, etc. I pretty much just drank juice and lay on the couch during that time. Also it was about a million degrees and we don't have AC, so it was pretty hard to move.
The day after I took some pictures of my awesome ear bandage:

Then Jeremiah took a picture of my ear once I could take off the bandage. (Warning don't look at if you don't like to see Van-Goghish representations of ears...)

So anyways, before I had the surgery I had a hearing test and it basically showed that I had mild hearing loss in my right ear and moderate hearing loss in my left ear (surgery ear). 


The main purpose of the surgery was to close the hole so water and bacteria couldn't get trapped in there causing infection, but there was a chance that my hearing in that ear could improve.
 So I had to take a second hearing test to see if it did indeed get better.  


 Both hearing tests were very similar in brainwashyness and creepiness and I will lead you through the modern-day hearing tests.


Remember in Elementary school when you took the hearing tests each year? They put the giant headphones on you and played some beeps and you were supposed to raise your hand whenever you heard a beep? Yes, those were the salad days of hearing tests.

Here is what happens in the


Now, after the seemingly normal questions from the "doctor" in a normal doctor's office, you are led into a creepy government interrogation room with poor lighting and "sound proof" so that they can't hear your screams when the interrogation gets more...vigorous. The walls are the color of sad vomit. The kind where its mostly bile.

The secret government ag---DOCTOR then places these things way inside your ears reminiscent of those "ear shells" from Fahrenheit 451. You know, the ones that feed you the government propaganda and keep you placated. 


Then she shuts the outside door and the inside door (yes, double doors...which they claim is for sound proofing, but I know it is just to keep you locked in easily) and goes behind the one-way mirror. (Actually it's just a window, but since my chair is facing away from it and she can see me but I can't see her, it might as well be a one-way mirror).


The first part is fairly normal. Low-pitched beeps and high-pitched beeps and I press the button on the little controller when I hear something (a little better than elementary school, because at least my arm doesn't get tired).
Although, after a while of listening to beeps, my mind starts to go a little crazy. I start worrying if I missed a beep just now, or maybe it is just ringing in my ear? was THAT a beep? or did I imagine it? I tried to click for all the beeps, imaginary or not...but I think I went a little crazy in there.


Then the SUPER CREEPY part starts.


She says words in my "ear shells" and I'm supposed to repeat them.They start out innocently enough, but is a bit uncomfortable saying random words in succession. Then the words start to get....disturbing.


Oatmeal.
Railroad.
Cowboy.
Kill.
Baseball.
Hurt.
Railroad.
Cowboy.
Knife.
(and then the rest is gibberish which I'm sure my brain picked up subconsciously just as they intended.)


No joke.




They actually made me repeat those words.



Several times.








And then it's over, and the "doctor" comes in and says I can wait in this room or across the hall in her office while she prints up the results. I try not to run as I dash out of the creepy room into the florescent lighting and safety of the normal office.




I'm pretty sure I'm now a sleeper agent for the US Government. If I disappear, tell the world my story.




Unrelated: Here is an old photo I found of my Great Uncle Gatsby nursing a war injury after WWI. See the family resemblance?

Oh? and the good news! My left ear passed the hearing test!!! My right ear is still the same (mild hearing loss--especially low sounds) but my left is is in the "normal range" of hearing all across the board. It went from moderate hearing loss to normal! :)  (To summarize: Right ear---D+,  Left ear: B+).

Cats on a bed

I love cats.


If Jeremiah ever dies, I will definitely become a cat lady. Jeremiah has forbidden me to have more than two at the moment, so I must make due.


I love cats so much that when I was little I would sleep in the cat's box (not to be confused with the litterbox!). I would ride my bike with my favorite cat, Skutterbotch, on my back.


I even let them sleep on my side of the bed. If one of them is on there when I go to bed, I just push her aside. Sometimes I will wake up and there is a cat sleeping next to me. It is adorable. Most days they don't sleep at the same time as me, though...except last night.

I woke up at about 6am to go to the bathroom and not one, but BOTH cats decided to flank me in my sleep. Not only did they sleep next to me, they also made themselves as LONG as possible. When I awoke, I was on my side with about an inch or less clearance on either side. Meanwhile, each cat was taking up more room than I was! 


Allow me to illustrate:

Not only did they invade my sleeping space, they also managed to take up as much space as possible. Had they lain parallel there would be no problem, but instead I was squished on the bed while everyone else had the most space in the world!


I guess I should train my kitties to sleep parallel next time, or at least in those cute little curly ball shapes.






On a separate note...SPRING BREAK!!!!! woo!!!!

Drawing butts

Sometimes when you teach, you have to have a sense of humor. Okay, most of the time you do, or else you would probably go insane.


Today was a very funny day. Now, I might have had an extremely rough day if I had decided to be like those book burners that get rid of books just because there is an "offensive" part.... Instead, I went with it.


Let me explain.




Today, I taught in a 2nd grade class where the assignment was to first read a poetry book (the classics: Shel Silverstein, Jack Prelutsky, Bruce Lansky...) and then select a poem and copy it onto a  piece of paper.

Boy was I in for a treat! While perusing the books, some of the students found some very interesting pages. I was happy when they were giggling and engaged with the book, and then a little surprised when the pages they found included pictures of BUTTS.

One was a man with his pants down (about how he forgot to put them on this morning).  The other was a poem called Spelling Bee about a bee that stung the guy, and he's embarassed to say where he was stung and the last line is "Hello, you've been stung by a bee" and it is stung (little holes) into this guy's butt by a bee. 


Now, I had two choices: 
1) Make a big deal about it, and not allow them to do that poem, or 2) Go with the flow. The teacher chose these books, and they ARE child appropriate, and they're just butts. Let them read the butt poems.


I chose #2. (hah! #2, butt joke!)


Needless to say, they LOVED it. And a couple of the boys obviously chose one of those poems to write about (and draw). 


I told them they couldn't trace (I never allow tracing if I can...teaches them nothing!), and so I found myself giving BUTT DRAWING advice. "Just make a round W down here, and then two rectangles for the legs". Hahaha!

Then I had a kid ask me for another book.
Me: "Why do you want another book? Is it because you want to read poems about rear-ends?"
Kid: "No! We just want to read a BUTT poem!"




And then it was lunchtime.