Mr. Bluebird on my shoulder

Last weekend I decided to put my supermama powers to the test and drive my two toddlers 6 hours down to see my family. By myself.  With one hand.  The experience was . . . character building.  But the great time spent with my parents certainly made up for any humiliating meltdowns that may or may not have occurred at the McDonald’s in Tomah.

Anyway . . . .

My little brother is almost 8 and is a cub scout.  Apparently, scouting isn’t all fun and games nowadays – it’s hard work! The scouts have a project going on now where they record the nesting activity of the local bluebird population.  Last weekend was Aidan’s shift to check the progress of the nests and look for eggs that may have been laid.  So we packed up the kids and spent a chilly and wet afternoon checking the bluebird nests in the state park near mom and Terry’s house.  It was a bit of a soggy adventure – but so much fun!

The weekend wasn’t all business – there was definitely some time for goofing around, too!

Jackson, Aidan, and Max hamming it up for the camera.

We also spent a great night with dad and Pauline eating a delicious dinner and having a blast watching the kids all play together.  Dad and Pauline’s wedding is only a few months away and the girls were more than happy to model their flower girl dresses.  Finola keeps talking about the “big fancy boat” the wedding will be on.  We can’t wait!

Finola and Kaylin – don’t they look like sisters!

They also found time for some, uh . . . gardening! Hahaha!

I can honestly say I will not be driving the kids back down to Illinois by myself again any time soon. But I’m so glad I was crazy enough to think it was a good idea this time around because it was a great trip!

A wife’s blessing for her husband in Vegas

May your heart feel light and your wedding band heavy,
May you summon the energy of your youth and party like a man who isn’t a father of two toddlers,
May you snap back to reality if someone actually does call you “daddy” and be sure you’ve paid only for a lap dance and not the “girlfriend experience,”
May you measure dollars in daycare payments when considering doubling down or decisions that could necessitate bail money,
May you enjoy every meal spent cutting only your own meat and every drink poured into cups other than sippy,
May you find the thirty seconds it takes each day to text me for the sole purpose of confirming you are, in fact, still alive,
But above all, may you revel in a weekend of fun and independence because no one deserves this break more than you.

And because I am SO never agreeing to this again.

Thumbs down.

So remember that little thumb owie I mentioned a couple weeks back? You know, avocado + defective kitchen knife = 5 stitches and a general intolerance for the associated pain?

Yeah – that.

As it turns out, I’m not the wimpy drama queen I originally seemed to be (even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then!).   You see, when I sliced into that evil green fruit (vegetable?) I cut deep enough to sever my tendon and a couple of nerves just for good measure.  Oops.  And speaking of oopsies – the extent of the damage went unnoticed  for about 10 days.   It’s cool ER doc – your charm and good looks almost make up for your oversight.  Anyway - when I went in to get my stitches out the lovely and talented Dr. Sarah assured me that no it was not normal to have no feeling in my thumb and to be unable to move it. So – off to the hand specialist I went and a few days later I found myself prepped and ready for surgery to repair the internal damage. F.

Surgery sucked. A lot. And the first two days really sucked. A lot.  Apparently nerve pain is tough to ease and I may or may not have had a middle of the night meltdown when not even three percocet could stop my hand from feeling like it was on fire.

Which brings me to my next topic.

Mama can’t party like she used to.

The painkillers proved to be a bit too much for my delicate and narcotic free constitution and my poor little system did what any wholesome goody-two-shoes who is simply unable hang with the naughty crowd finds herself doing -I puked my ever living guts out. Five times.

My pill popping ended right then and there and I slept for the next 20 hours. From here on out my drug of choice is Advil. Washed down with a petite syrah.

It’s five days later and I’m feeling okay. I’m still in pain but not nearly as bad as it’s been. Recovery will be long and annoying and I’m getting a bit frustrated with my limitations.  Fortunately, Jamie is amazing and in addition to wiping up tears and drawing bubble baths and cleaning up puke, he’s been solely responsible for the children this week.  Honestly, I can’t imagine how I’d be faring without him right now.  Relationships are not about keeping score. But if they were – Jamie would be winning right now. By a landslide.

One handed typing is a skill I haven’t mastered yet, so I’ll wrap it up with some photos from our family Easter outing.  While I’m feeling slightly crabby, I am able to put all this in perspective and know that in the grand scheme of things, this injury is so minor and I’m so lucky to be healthy. I really am grateful for that!!  And for my lovely family!  Our Easter at Banning State Park was such a blast!!!

Well Balanced Kids

Recently Nola asked Jamie to build her a balance beam.  Our girl makes lofty and fantastic requests on a fairly regular basis and often hears, “Maybe,” “We’ll see,” or the occasional, “Not on your life, sweetpea.” So when the balance beam request was thrown out, I just figured it would join the likes of the bunk beds and motorcycles that never seemed to materialize.  But much to my surprise and delight, Jamie whipped up a great little beam while the kids and I were on a nice long walk.  Nola was ecstatic and I was totally impressed by her balancing abilities!

While the beam is not quite Olympic regulation, and is certainly not OSHA compliant, the kids just love it! I see a lot of balancing acts in our future!

Look at that toe point!

Goin’ to the Zoo, Zoo, Zoo

In a typical year, March in Minnesota is like the last 45 minutes of a movie that’s already lasted 2 plus hours. Long. Drawn out. And enough to get you all antsy in your pantsy and ready to run out the doors like a maniac.

 This March, however, has been an absolute dream.  It’s like indian summer in winter.  Indian Winter? Native American Winter? Whatever it is – it freakin’ rules. The above-normal temps have meant all sorts of outdoor activity for our family.  A couple weeks ago we seized the glorious day and decided to make an impromptu visit to the Como Zoo.  At 3:45pm.  Unbeknownst to us, the zoo closes at 4pm in winter. But, ZOO, we protested, it’s not actually winter anymore. It’s 72 degrees!!  Sadly, the zoo does not have a Native American Winter variance. It closed anyway. At 4pm sharp.  Have you ever pumped a toddler up for a zoo visit and then attempted to extract her from said zoo only 3 minutes after she’s shuffled her little Crocs into the entrance?  I don’t recommend it.

This weekend, we gave the zoo a second go round. It was a bit chillier than it has been (wait, a regular March?! LAME!), but it was sunny and beautiful and the kids saw plenty of animals.  Grandma Gigi and Bumpa Tom joined us, too, which only made the day more exciting to the little ones!  Lately, I’ve been leaving my clunky camera behind (even though I love it!) and snapping with my phone instead. Here are some shots from the day:

Nola and papa on the lookout for polar bears

Tiger boy!

Gussy’s little shadow in this one just kills me! Looks like little Peter Pan!

I also have a photo of the moment that the daddy lion and mommy lion held hands and wished really hard for God to bring them a baby lion. But I’ll spare your eyes and let your imagination wander instead. I have to say, it was a pretty hilarious moment. Dozens of adults laughing hysterically while all the little ones just looked at them with puzzled faces.

We headed home with two kids who were exhausted by all the fresh air, grandparent love, and wild animal sexy time.  Jamie and I got the babies from the car and into their beds and began to prepare a nice afternoon lunch. And then . . .

I almost cut my thumb off.

For real.

I know, I know. I’m usually a little dramatic. But this actually happened. And I’m only exaggerating a little bit.

The short story is that I was cutting an avocado with a very sharp kitchen knife when the knife got stuck in the pit, BROKE (helloooooooooooo, products liability lawyers!!), and sliced my thumb on the inside of the knuckle. I knew immediately that I was going to need stitches and promptly went into crisis mode. Jamie called his parents to head back to our house, went and got the neighbors to stay with the kids until the grandparents arrived, and drove me to the ER where I had nothing short of spectacular service.  One tetanus shot, five stitches, and ZERO opiates later (WTF?!), we were back at the scene of the crime.

Five days have passed and I’m hanging in there. I think I’ve found the proper Cabernet/Advil ratio to keep the pain in check, though I have to admit, this pesky little thumb injury is proving to be in my top five most painful experiences.

 The other four, you ask?

Natural childbirth, infectious colitis, broken ankle, Marquette’s 2003 Final Four performance against Kansas.

In that order.

But this, too, shall pass, and I’m sure I’ll feel like a million bucks in no time. Or maybe $550 million if we win the latest MegaMillion jackpot. It only takes a single ticket, right?!