Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Here is the link
Dont forget to bring the coffee....
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Sniff-sniff. Dude. You smell.
Maybe it's not you. Maybe it's your nasty gym socks. Or your shorts. Or maybe it is you.
I never do this. I never stand here, feet away, at my own locker, and judge. But this is horrid.
I kind of feel bad for you. You're a handsome dude. Not like in a Brokeback Mountain kind of way. I'm totally straight. But a straight man can appreciate another man, right? You're not my type or anything. You're no Tim Daly. Not that he's my type either.
Why am I having this discussion with myself in the locker room while we're both in our underwear? You've never even spoken to me. You know me, though. I'm the dad who occasionally wears Star Wars boxers and uses a Teletubbies towel. (When you're a dad, you'll understand).
The bottom line is: Something reeks. And I'm past being offended. Now I'm just embarrassed for you.
You have a lot going for you. You seem to lift with your legs, not your back. You're built like a barrel. You wipe off your gym equipment. True, you lift more in one rep than I do in a set, but to each his own. You're friendly. You smile and nod when people walk by. That's good.
But this smell… Is it your shoes?
You appear single. How this must suck for you to be handsome and strong, yet smelly.
I'm not jealous. Not even that you're apparently dressed for work, and your work allows you to wear a Salty Dog T-shirt and khaki shorts. I must wear pants to my job. No matter what. All week.
I should say something to you. Man to man. You're younger than me. Maybe I can be a father figure. Or at least a favorite-uncle figure.
Well, you're packed up to go anyway; and I'd better be, too. Maybe you could tell I was having this conversation with you in my head. You didn't even turn to wave goodbye.
And it still smells in here. Did you leave your nasty socks behind?
I'm the only cat left in here, though. Don't tell me … you stuffed a putrid washcloth in my bag?
I'll find it, you wiley bastard. I'll take it right up to that manager dude who is always bopping his head to music that no one else can hear.
Damn, I can't find it. I've taken everything out except for the new Nikes I wore to my soccer match Saturday, in a torrential downpour. We won, 7-5! My shoes were drenched. I should have set them out to dry. I think they went right into the garage, and back into my bag, and … sniff-sniff.
Don't tell me you stuck your socks in my sweet kicks! I'm so gonna kick your…
Sniff-sniff. Hmm. Nothing in here. Um, just my shoes.
Hmm. I wonder if you have a blog somewhere, too.
If so, and you caught that part about Tim Daly … forget about it.
Eli Pacheco is a reformed gym rat who now can be seen doing girl pushups between holes at the local golf disc course. Don’t call a medic. When he’s not threatening wildlife with flying plastic, he’s defending his gender or a good block of cheese. He also writes the blog Coach Daddy.
I never fail at anything, my kids think I have a parenting fail daily, but they overreact. So when I started failing tests you can be assured I'm not handling it well...
I have kept pretty quiet about what's going on. About 24 hours after I got out of the hospital last time, I had to go back in with another bleed. That one stopped and they told me I wasn't going home pregnant. I cried all day, was devistated and couldn't think of anything worse than being away from the kiddos for the next several weeks.
I was sad I couldn't spend those last few months with 5, his last months being THE baby. I can't pick out my own baby stuff. I don't get to have the kids lay on my belly and laugh at the baby kicking them. I can't prepare a nursery. I can't take the kids outside and have them paint my belly... But I can do my best go have a healthy baby, that's all I can do....
That type of thinking was wrong. I had another big bleed that night that wouldn't stop. They sent the Children's Hospital transport team to pick me up and take me to the adult hospital attached to the children's hospital to potentially deliver. It got really really real. They put in an extra iv to prepare for a transfusion and I had magnesium which screws you up entirely. You essentially feel like crap on fire with a bag over your head. Worst medicine ever. That stopped my contractions and bleeding. I escaped doom!
I hated the idea of being so far away from my kids and that now I can't see them everyday. My first night there were two scuffles in the hallway. I posted to my Facebook page they need Maury on call.
I finally got sent to the antepartum unit. While I was there some strange man walked into my room with a newspaper and went toward the bathroom. I asked if I could help him and he said he was in the wrong room. Really?!? He seriously was going into a random, what he thought was empty, room to take a dump. You have got to be kidding me! Well the stay in Apu didn't last long, one night with a view and then another bleed/abruption. Again with the fire with a bag over your head. Bleeding stopped, all was good, except I had a lingering headache and I couldn't see. My vision was so blurry that I couldn't see past arm length in front of me. I was terrified. It's almost all back, no clue what it was. Neuro came in, and I guess I'm getting a formal photo shoot..
I did have a fun test, an ultrasound. Looks like the feisty one is in fact a fat baby, well a good sized baby. So she will be a cutie! Not a scrawny Ethiopian debutaunt that I will push cheeseburgers on eternally...
So I failed my 24 hour urine, which they made me pee in the jug for two tests. If my sons knew they would be jealous. There is only one rule in my car : Never trust a rogue container. When we drove from Stl to NY the hubs taught the boys to relieve themselves in cups. Unfortunately, the talent has not been abandoned.
I also failed my glucose test, by about a hundred points. So the mud I drank yesterday was like thick orange soda. Today for my three hour it is like melted jelly beans with a touch of Robitussin.. nasty.
That's the update, I feel like a pin cushion and I am fairly certain I am allergic to my placenta. Every single test I've failed is because of a problem with the placenta. I am no scientist or genius- well I can tell who went on the seat by position of drops, color of drops and the distinct smell of the urine. So I am no moron folk's, but the docs aren't buying the allergic bologna....
Monday, April 15, 2013
I had a little bump in the road getting there. My GPS took me down the wrong road. I had a little issue and got stuck. Look away law enforcement. I had to drive through a small field on Brentwood Blvd because I couldn't back out..Shhh don't tell the hubs, but this is what I did to his car... Whoopsies.
When we arrived I met Lindsay from Itz Linz. She is such a cute sweet tiny little thing. You can totally tell she lives what she writes. I met Genevieve from Citymom she is a nice gal and mom with a really sweet mellow voice and really enthusiastic about the city. Her site is about city living and she has fun events posted on her site.
Robyn from Robyn's World kept a big friendly smile on her face and was a lot of fun too. Janice was a nice lady too. Among all the others I met.
Enough about the peeps, let's talk food. I am blunt. I will not under any circumstance tell you something I don't believe. Now that that is out there. That day I had THE BEST DAMN chicken salad sandwich I have ever tasted. I don't know what it was, chicken salad is a take it or leave it kind of thing in my book, but seriously that is not a good thing to start on when you are pregnant. I have tried for weeks to find another one that came close and there is no competition.
They had this quinoa, with corn and veggies that was cold. Not being a coneseur of quinoa I wondered why my oatmeal was cold and had vegetables in it. Being the good sport I am, I gave it a whirl. It was pretty good. I was honestly surprised.
They said to take leftovers, shhh I kind of already had, in my purse all covert and ninja like. So I took more. I brought some lemony seedy muffins home thinking the kids wouldn't touch them. I wish I had taken a picture because my kids loved them so much they had licked, literally, the table and the floor clean. I figured all was good since the food was made all organically the benefit outweighed the risk of the filthy floor. Looking back maybe that was a little questionable, maybe it wasn't- feel free to NOT chime in on that :)
The owners were funny and nice. Not just oh I'm writing about them on my blog and they did just give me a free meal nice. I would be willing to sit on a patio and have a few beers with them kind of awesome. The ninja chef Chris. Wow. He not only can cook but he looks pretty damn yummy too. I'm thinking they need to do a shirtless chef Thursday and have wine and appys for the ladies, just kidding- yeah I really wasn't.
They have a monthly thing where they do dinner and wine pairings for forty or fifty bucks, a few courses and lots of fun. As soon as I shoot this kid out my nethers my ass is there.
I told the hubs about the place, he used to work in the big building next door, he was pissed I didn't take him. He said they had the best Turkey and Cheddar sandwich ever. The man is THE pickiest bastard you will ever meet. I have never seen a grown ass man bitch and moan like a kindergartener being served fish sticks on pizza day over a perfectly fine meal. So if that man will give you a best sandwich ever, you can have full faith that that sandwich will be the best damn sandwich you have ever tasted...
Overall it's a cafe, juice bar and wine bar that everything even the sauces and condiments are handmade with top shelf ingredients. I know I shouldn't have teased ya with top shelf. Now you're thinking about the Grey Goose or something else, I'm not a liquor whore so I really don't know the good stuff. But I guess it's more like Panera is to Aldi as Nadoz is to Whole Foods kind of comparison.
Friday, April 5, 2013
I am stuck in bed with nothing to do other than count contractions and wait for my walking orders. Over the last few days I have heard continuously about this Manatee Gray taboo garbage.
I am shaking my head wondering why someone would get offended over Manatee Gray. I'm not a big lady but if someone would call a larger lady a Manatee more than likely they are in Kindergarten and your can send them to the principal. I have never associated fat with a manatee, I've heard whale, never manatee.
Target is in the works to make this right. I don't think they should. Grow a pair Targay and stand up for yourself, unless your employee who named it was a complete a-hole and this is change is being taken from a severance package, then carry on. No one likes an asshole. The thing is someone else will get their panties in a wad because Heather Gray sounds like Heifer Gray.
Calm down people either have a donut or a treadmill. Look around half of America is obese and probably another quarter is over weight, that is quite an army you can form against the skinny folk. On top of that most women see their buns, thighs and belly much larger than it is anyway so they feel they are one of you anyway.
Look at it this way the only people who actually care are cardiologists and people who can make a buck off your extra poundage. I'm not saying you should let yourself go and have to use a crane to get you off the crapper. Chances are if you are out at Target buying a dress that doesn't apply to you.
I want to let you in on a secret, most skinny people could give a care less if you are a size 2 or 22. We just ask that society as a whole to wear fitting clothing. It is just as offensive for me to see someone's skinny cheeks hanging out of their pants as it is to see a bigger persons do the same. Actually, I find it funnier to see a skinny person's underwears because it usually involves some sort of cheek floss. I can't trust a lady who will use a dental mechanism to hold her lady bits together. Add rhinestoned decor holding the floss together and I am laughing so hard and trying to hold it together before a game of ring toss breaks out with the fake diamond heart.
Now that you see why I prefer some responsible panties, lets talk about the sisters. I don't care who ya are I don't want to see nip, strap or cup. Keep it clean folks, the world is crawling with children.
Let's put the whole nude legging thing out there too. Leggings are not pants, regardless of color. Leggings are not the new yoga pants. Yoga pants are acceptable year round at nearly every grocery, school and big box store. Leggings are the equivalent to wearing pantyhose without the skirt. They will make the skinniest people look like they have sausaged themselves into a contraption they can only be cut out of. I am not the smallest and I'm not largest but I won't dare wear leggings, not even under a bulky sweater. I have a fear the sweater will unravel and we could have a situation neither of us want in our laps. I will be embarrassed, your retinas may shrivel so we just won't go there.
Short shorts, super skinny jeans, short skirts, they make me cringe. No matter size shape or gender here is my PSA: Cotton is picked for a reason, cover your bleep no matter the season.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
I am on day 3 of my hospital stay. Believe it or not Sedimentary and Relax are not exactly part of my lifestyle. I'm going crazy in a hurry and I'm fairly certain this post will go to my old URL and may be lost forever... So if you can read this here are the events that unfolded...
Day 1: I had another bleed so I came into the hospital and later started having contractions, again they couldn't find the source of the bleed but put me on pills to stop contractions. The pills worked for 2 of the 4 hours that they were supposed to. I was scared but I figured it was early labor and pills and bedrest can handle it. Only one night away from the kids, I was upset but we can handle one day.
Day 2: Another bleed and the high risk docs got involved. They wanted to know the source of the bleed and took me off meds to stop contractions and started the steroid shots for the baby. I felt like someone had kicked me in the gut and if I could've taken a breath I would have without a doubt thrown up. The blood test to show baby's blood in mine which takes you one step closer to the placental abruption diagnosis came back negative, apparently its not 100%. The high risk doc did another ultrasound and found the abruption.. I was informed that if I bleed again I will be transferred to the hospital that is attached to The Children's hospital in the city incase I needed to deliver. I was told what a 26 week baby would look like and the types of complications it could have.
I have been afraid to breathe. The bleeding has stopped, for now. Since this is the second time in two weeks even with bedrest there is a chance it can happen again. One doc said maybe, another one said not if but when.
Day 3: I was told if I have no more bleeding then I can go home on restrictions tomorrow after the steroids are in full effect. I want to go home so badly but at the same time I know how fast this can go from manageable to mayhem in minutes.
I am still having constant contractions but stopping them could mask another bleed but at the same time having contractions can cause another abruption. Not knowing that there is another abruption could be life threatening to both the baby and I. So they will do nothing to actually stop labor, which in itself scares the absolute Hell out of me too. Apparently I have an iron cervix because it's not changing for anything.. THANK GOD... Even contractions two minutes apart double peaked isn't softening it to the idea a kid can come out of there.
I have some fun hospital stories and my take on contractions that I will post later. But for now I am just not feeling the funny. It kills me that I have missed #2's first outdoor softball practice, #4's first field trip that I have been looking forward to for the entire kindergarten year. Tonight I have to miss the little boys' karate. 3's soccer game and 1's first volleyball game of the season are more than likely out of the question too. It absolutely kills me to not put them to bed or nag at them to pick up their shit and to flush the toilet.
I am having a hard time keeping it together and not thinking about how bad it can go. I have no intentions on leaving a baby at the hospital and going home so an early delivery isn't something I'm wanting to pencil in. I will feel so much better when the second steroid shot is fully effective tomorrow, but think I am going to fully use my friends and family willing to help after I get home and hire a cleaning lady.
*I would rather spend a thousand dollars I don't have than force a lifetime of hardship upon this baby*
I am so thankful to my friends and family who have without a second thought who have dropped everything or were willing to for me and this baby. It is a great feeling knowing that the kids at home are in good hands.
And the hubs who is knee deep in tax returns,10 days til D-Day needing to work 70 hours a week, but still visits several times a day and brings the kids up to visit, only to work in the middle of the night. He has not bitched, moaned, complained or tried sneaking me out the back. He acts like me being in here for days on end is no big deal and he has it covered. I know is hard on him but I have never had so much respect and appreciation for him in my life. (He doesn't read my shit nor wants me to write about him, but since it's good we will make an exception.Behind his back.shhh)
I am not really a believer in permanent sterilization but after all this worry I'm highly considering it. I really wanted a playmate for this feisty little gal but that may not be in the cards. Maybe before North Korea goes all Gangnum Style on America we should send over a plane and buy up all the babies in their orphanages. I could bunk the kids up and take a couple...