Yay!
My sweet moosh is back from New Mexico! He was happy to see Grandma and Grandpa, who sent bushels of dried fruit and goodies for Tyoma and the family. It was so nice to hear how my folks were doing and how dear sweet Misty was. E said that Misty loved him and kissed him. I would love to go to NM and see them myself. I love having Mom here, but I miss Dad so much. One way or another, we will manageg to do something special this spring.
E took some cool elevator pictures for Tyoma, if I find them, I'll post them!!!
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Mother-in-Law Arrives
E's mom arrived from Moscow Russia today. She will be staying with us for a month and then her husband and E's brother Andrei will come for a week then the whole family is off to Philadelphia for an indeterminate period of time. I'm very excited about the visit, but also anxious. Since we got rid of the souska, he has been anxious, and when she visits he has sleep and behavior problems. I try to remind TF about this, but he seems to forget and downplays my concerns.
Realistically, he's probably right. I tend to fret and worry needlessly all the time. I went over the notes that Dr. Bollick gave me a few weeks ago. Mom helped me pic up some Russian\English picture dictionaries and flash cards. T's already interested in them, so this could be a great deal of fun. But still, I worry. School's coming up and that means stress and sickness. Sigh.
Realistically, he's probably right. I tend to fret and worry needlessly all the time. I went over the notes that Dr. Bollick gave me a few weeks ago. Mom helped me pic up some Russian\English picture dictionaries and flash cards. T's already interested in them, so this could be a great deal of fun. But still, I worry. School's coming up and that means stress and sickness. Sigh.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Happy Birthday Dad!
Happy 75th Birthday Dadfiend!
Despite the craziness of the impending move, we all took time to put on a gourmet feast for Dad's birthday. The table was packed with cheese, fruit, crackers, sweets, pastries and wines. Whew! Amidst all the hubbub, Tyoma decided to skip his nap, leading to a slew of phone calls to the folk's to change times for the gathering. I think I changed times four times total. The irony? We wound up getting together at the planned time anyway! Heh.
Despite the craziness of the impending move, we all took time to put on a gourmet feast for Dad's birthday. The table was packed with cheese, fruit, crackers, sweets, pastries and wines. Whew! Amidst all the hubbub, Tyoma decided to skip his nap, leading to a slew of phone calls to the folk's to change times for the gathering. I think I changed times four times total. The irony? We wound up getting together at the planned time anyway! Heh.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Happy Birthday, Grandmam
You would have been one hundred today! I miss you and wish you could see your great grandson.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Day at Home
After the frantic pace of the past several days, I found myself feeling so tired, I could hardly move. I slept well, yet felt as if I could use a hundred year nap. Keeping up with baby drew the breath right out of me. Well, one day of less intense mommying won't be fatal--he's fed and changed and hugged. I still don't know what I can do for Tennisfiend after his loss. I feel so sad for him and hope that the loss doesn't become swallowed up by the chaos of our current situation.
Monday, October 1, 2007
The Big Day
I woke up in the middle of the night, my heart heavy with concern for E. I felt so helpless, there was little I could do for him now. I tried my best to help with his PowerPoint presentation. I organized and searched and wrote. I did my best. Even with all of that, there was little I could do. It was all up to him, and it felt like such an enourmous weight to bear. Maybe kind of worry was how he felt when I was having Tyoma. Sitting, waiting. Worrying.
E drove to the interview place, which was a cinch since he'd done it yesterday, just to be sure. We arrived early, largely since I was panicky and wanted to get there safely. Pesky, selfish me. We chatted aimlessly until 8:15. I watched him disappear into a sea of cars as he walked away. Sigh.
I tried not to panic driving back to the hotel, which was some work since I have been in a constant state of disorientation since we arrived. I had practiced the way back in my mind, and still I had problems. In brief, one way streets kept swapping their arrows every time I blinked. I have to hand it to California drivers, they are a kind and patient lot. No horn honking, cursing, or flip-offs, just smiles and friendly waves. Nice, very nice. I looked for someplace to pull over, to let the rush hour traffic flow by smoothly.
Fortuitously I found a Super-Target, and decided to pick up snacks on the cheap (room service=$$$). It was so odd to see all the merchandise so familiar to me in Las Cruces, but for one odd bit--they had wine! Yes, I bought a bottle, a wine opener and some chips, dammit. The wine prices were awesome. Another plus for California. I wondered how many bottles of wine I would have to drink to make up for the cost of housing.
I agonized for the rest of the day, waiting to hear from E. I must have called mom six times. Perhaps this was not a good idea, talking obsessively over it, but I asked her to help keep my mind off of it and she really helped. I didn't know what to do with myself. I watched Maury Pauvich, took a shower, curled my hair and put on make up. I wandered around in rollers in my favorite worn nightgown with the AC on high. I thought a glass of wine would be sweet, but avoided it. I was completely paranoid over making a bad impression if I was invited out for dinner.
Time slipped by. I watched Fox News. The Weather Channel. Checked my email. Back to Fox. I tried not to think about what was going on with E, but there was nothing to do but wait or get lost/killed driving around.
E finally called at 4:30. I wondered what he did for eight hours that he couldn't drop me a little message. I quickly pushed the thought out of my mind. He said the presentation and interview went well. He would be home soon and, no, there wouldn't be a dinner tonight. After an eternity, he came home and told me to get dressed since we were going to dinner. I snapped. After a long day of waiting, I unloaded on him. The sad thing was that I knew I was being unfair. Some dam broke open inside me and I freaked. I pulled my shit together, though, got ready and quit bitching. I had to remind myself this was not about me.
Our drive to the restaurant was long, traffic filled and metropolitan. Streams of cars on the road in the failing light looked like rows of silver zippers curving across and immense and unending body. I had to fight my anxiety with all my might to shut up about our drive. I wanted to tell him to slow down, quit weaving, be careful.
He seemed reckless and out of his mind as he drove, adhering to his theory that being a good driver is not about following the rules, it's about following the flow. He did well, then. This pace was too fast for me. Multiple lanes of cars confused me, made me feel as if I did not know my place, especially in the dim light. Sometimes, when lines form at stores, it's unclear what is happening. Is this lane for the lane directly ahead or for the the next open cashier? These days, they corral you so you don't get confused and inadvertently cut in front of the next Kohl's customer. I felt as if there were no lanes here, just a giant motor free-for-all and I could not see how anyone could navigate through that at a single mile over the speed limit.
We reached the restaurant intact, my nerves jangling. I did not clearly understand what happened during E's day, but it seemed good. The restaurant was a blur, although I recall that one fellow was a maverick. Perhaps too much so, for his own career's sake--like one of those supporting character's in an Armageddon movie who helps the hero save the world. The senior fellow was very nice. He seemed earthy and polished at the same time, self-confident and wise.
We ordered beers and then dinner. Since I assumed that we were paying my way I ordered an expensive dish out of confusion over the menu. My expensive choice resulted in one of the fellows having a salad. I did not realize my mistake until it was too late and felt absolutely mortified. We left extra cash to pay, but I did not understand if it was taken or refused.
Dinner was very pleasant, but I felt as if something was subtly wrong. The looks the men gave me made me wonder if E was being judged on my appearance. They looked--surprised. I figured that it must be because I looked old or fat or somehow inappropriate for such a wonderful fellow. In retrospect, I must have looked anxious and pissed and maybe they wondered, WTF?
The restaurant was located right on the beach and we took a brief after dinner walk to look at the last glimmers of pink in the sky. I felt immensely hopeful, suddenly. Well, even if we can't afford a home and have a small place to live, we will be here and we can come to this quiet, peaceful beach. Tyoma could grow up loving the ocean visiting cool cosmopolitan places.
When we returned to the hotel, I opened the bottle of wine and helped myself generously. I'd timidly sipped beer at the restaurant, feeling self-conscious and scrutinized. As I was sipping wine, Egor spoke to his mother on the phone. We received shocking bad news. E's grandmother had passed away.
I was flattened by disbelief. I did not know what to say to my husband. I'd been so selfish ans self occupied all day, I did not want to add to his hurt. After the call, we lay side by side and held hands. We cried quiet tears and said nothing.
E drove to the interview place, which was a cinch since he'd done it yesterday, just to be sure. We arrived early, largely since I was panicky and wanted to get there safely. Pesky, selfish me. We chatted aimlessly until 8:15. I watched him disappear into a sea of cars as he walked away. Sigh.
I tried not to panic driving back to the hotel, which was some work since I have been in a constant state of disorientation since we arrived. I had practiced the way back in my mind, and still I had problems. In brief, one way streets kept swapping their arrows every time I blinked. I have to hand it to California drivers, they are a kind and patient lot. No horn honking, cursing, or flip-offs, just smiles and friendly waves. Nice, very nice. I looked for someplace to pull over, to let the rush hour traffic flow by smoothly.
Fortuitously I found a Super-Target, and decided to pick up snacks on the cheap (room service=$$$). It was so odd to see all the merchandise so familiar to me in Las Cruces, but for one odd bit--they had wine! Yes, I bought a bottle, a wine opener and some chips, dammit. The wine prices were awesome. Another plus for California. I wondered how many bottles of wine I would have to drink to make up for the cost of housing.
I agonized for the rest of the day, waiting to hear from E. I must have called mom six times. Perhaps this was not a good idea, talking obsessively over it, but I asked her to help keep my mind off of it and she really helped. I didn't know what to do with myself. I watched Maury Pauvich, took a shower, curled my hair and put on make up. I wandered around in rollers in my favorite worn nightgown with the AC on high. I thought a glass of wine would be sweet, but avoided it. I was completely paranoid over making a bad impression if I was invited out for dinner.
Time slipped by. I watched Fox News. The Weather Channel. Checked my email. Back to Fox. I tried not to think about what was going on with E, but there was nothing to do but wait or get lost/killed driving around.
E finally called at 4:30. I wondered what he did for eight hours that he couldn't drop me a little message. I quickly pushed the thought out of my mind. He said the presentation and interview went well. He would be home soon and, no, there wouldn't be a dinner tonight. After an eternity, he came home and told me to get dressed since we were going to dinner. I snapped. After a long day of waiting, I unloaded on him. The sad thing was that I knew I was being unfair. Some dam broke open inside me and I freaked. I pulled my shit together, though, got ready and quit bitching. I had to remind myself this was not about me.
Our drive to the restaurant was long, traffic filled and metropolitan. Streams of cars on the road in the failing light looked like rows of silver zippers curving across and immense and unending body. I had to fight my anxiety with all my might to shut up about our drive. I wanted to tell him to slow down, quit weaving, be careful.
He seemed reckless and out of his mind as he drove, adhering to his theory that being a good driver is not about following the rules, it's about following the flow. He did well, then. This pace was too fast for me. Multiple lanes of cars confused me, made me feel as if I did not know my place, especially in the dim light. Sometimes, when lines form at stores, it's unclear what is happening. Is this lane for the lane directly ahead or for the the next open cashier? These days, they corral you so you don't get confused and inadvertently cut in front of the next Kohl's customer. I felt as if there were no lanes here, just a giant motor free-for-all and I could not see how anyone could navigate through that at a single mile over the speed limit.
We reached the restaurant intact, my nerves jangling. I did not clearly understand what happened during E's day, but it seemed good. The restaurant was a blur, although I recall that one fellow was a maverick. Perhaps too much so, for his own career's sake--like one of those supporting character's in an Armageddon movie who helps the hero save the world. The senior fellow was very nice. He seemed earthy and polished at the same time, self-confident and wise.
We ordered beers and then dinner. Since I assumed that we were paying my way I ordered an expensive dish out of confusion over the menu. My expensive choice resulted in one of the fellows having a salad. I did not realize my mistake until it was too late and felt absolutely mortified. We left extra cash to pay, but I did not understand if it was taken or refused.
Dinner was very pleasant, but I felt as if something was subtly wrong. The looks the men gave me made me wonder if E was being judged on my appearance. They looked--surprised. I figured that it must be because I looked old or fat or somehow inappropriate for such a wonderful fellow. In retrospect, I must have looked anxious and pissed and maybe they wondered, WTF?
The restaurant was located right on the beach and we took a brief after dinner walk to look at the last glimmers of pink in the sky. I felt immensely hopeful, suddenly. Well, even if we can't afford a home and have a small place to live, we will be here and we can come to this quiet, peaceful beach. Tyoma could grow up loving the ocean visiting cool cosmopolitan places.
When we returned to the hotel, I opened the bottle of wine and helped myself generously. I'd timidly sipped beer at the restaurant, feeling self-conscious and scrutinized. As I was sipping wine, Egor spoke to his mother on the phone. We received shocking bad news. E's grandmother had passed away.
I was flattened by disbelief. I did not know what to say to my husband. I'd been so selfish ans self occupied all day, I did not want to add to his hurt. After the call, we lay side by side and held hands. We cried quiet tears and said nothing.
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Wimbledon
Last night I packed up for a trip to Mom and Dad’s so Tennisfiend could watch Wimbledon in peace. Despite my current brain fog, I thought of everything. Good thing, too since Tennisfiend woke me just before the match started and practically shoved me out the door.
He’d loaded everything up except the baby. I tossed on some clothes, zapped a pint of instant coffee, grabbed a Campbell’s Chunky Soup and staggered out the door with Tyoma. My folks weren’t expecting me at 7:15, since I always call and say I’ll be there “early” when I generally turn up around 9:30.
Dad contained his aggravation and mom expressed her surprise as they scrambled to assemble Tyoma Land. And that was just their stuff! Putting together all of my portable goodies made it feel like a festive camping trip! For the first time baby was totally relaxed at my folks place (Probably since we had so much of our home there!).
As usual, squirmer conked out on the way home. I rushed him into the crib and had time to watch the last minutes of Wimbledon with TF. The match was fantastic, according to hubby. I had kept an eye on it at my folk’s place, feeling relieved that his favorite, Federer, looked like the champion. The whole of the afternoon was taken up with resume stuff for TF.
The site where we needed to post his resume was down last week and we needed to post before Monday afternoon. I fiddled with Resumix, formatting info until the ANSWER website miraculously re-appeared. What a relief! TF opted to spend quality time with Tyoma while I transferred info onto about a zillion forms. At the end of the day, our job mission was accomplished. E.T.A. We did have enough time to take a Tyoma picture! I didn't realize that the baby on the box was 1/3 the size of our son. He dwarfs the little scooter.
He’d loaded everything up except the baby. I tossed on some clothes, zapped a pint of instant coffee, grabbed a Campbell’s Chunky Soup and staggered out the door with Tyoma. My folks weren’t expecting me at 7:15, since I always call and say I’ll be there “early” when I generally turn up around 9:30.
Dad contained his aggravation and mom expressed her surprise as they scrambled to assemble Tyoma Land. And that was just their stuff! Putting together all of my portable goodies made it feel like a festive camping trip! For the first time baby was totally relaxed at my folks place (Probably since we had so much of our home there!).
As usual, squirmer conked out on the way home. I rushed him into the crib and had time to watch the last minutes of Wimbledon with TF. The match was fantastic, according to hubby. I had kept an eye on it at my folk’s place, feeling relieved that his favorite, Federer, looked like the champion. The whole of the afternoon was taken up with resume stuff for TF.
The site where we needed to post his resume was down last week and we needed to post before Monday afternoon. I fiddled with Resumix, formatting info until the ANSWER website miraculously re-appeared. What a relief! TF opted to spend quality time with Tyoma while I transferred info onto about a zillion forms. At the end of the day, our job mission was accomplished. E.T.A. We did have enough time to take a Tyoma picture! I didn't realize that the baby on the box was 1/3 the size of our son. He dwarfs the little scooter.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
The Neighborhood Visit
My Sunday visit with my folks wound up being a neighborhood spectacle. Jimmie, my kick-ass cyclist girlfriend (married to my childhood friend and neighbor), whisked Tyoma up, starling him into a loud crying jag. All the neighborhood women fussed and cooed over him.
I had a National Geographic moment, realizing that our little gathering of women was at one with tribes in Africa and Asia. What cheerful women! Joanne was flushed and happy, almost as if Tyoma was her grandkid. This was understandable, since I grew up with her two youngest sons and we split our time between her house and my mom's.
Irene, our neighbor with Alzheimer's, stopped by, said "I came to see the baby," and launched into a inexplicable story about a bird she saw the day before. Every move baby made was praised and commented upon. I didn't know if I should have felt embarrassed or proud! Anyway, I dragged myself away from the adulation to enjoy a guitar playing session with the folks.
I took some more pics, but I'm a goof and they were mostly over exposed. BUT, here's my mom: 
Misty was so jazzed over the commotion and guitar playing that she ran all around the back yard shaking her little lamby toy. Tyoma was a bit freaked, but he seems a bit freaked out in general. He loved Grandpa's guitar and experimented with string plucking. Dad serenaded us all, singing folk songs and some flamenco as well.
I had a National Geographic moment, realizing that our little gathering of women was at one with tribes in Africa and Asia. What cheerful women! Joanne was flushed and happy, almost as if Tyoma was her grandkid. This was understandable, since I grew up with her two youngest sons and we split our time between her house and my mom's.
Irene, our neighbor with Alzheimer's, stopped by, said "I came to see the baby," and launched into a inexplicable story about a bird she saw the day before. Every move baby made was praised and commented upon. I didn't know if I should have felt embarrassed or proud! Anyway, I dragged myself away from the adulation to enjoy a guitar playing session with the folks.
And here's Misty!
Misty was so jazzed over the commotion and guitar playing that she ran all around the back yard shaking her little lamby toy. Tyoma was a bit freaked, but he seems a bit freaked out in general. He loved Grandpa's guitar and experimented with string plucking. Dad serenaded us all, singing folk songs and some flamenco as well.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Family Heirlooms
When I visited with the folks today, Dad brought out a surprise wrapped in faded tissue. His baby spoon and fork! I should have put a penny down for scale, but they are the sweetest little things! Dad said that they've been in his family since the turn of the century. I'll probaby look up the info on the reverse side of the utensils and geek out later. :D
Friday, June 8, 2007
Dogs Are Pragmatic
Since baby was born, Misty has spent time at my parent’s place. She has close to an acre of sloped grassy yard to roam and cats galore to chase, not to mention the extra attention Mom and Dad lavish on her.
Misty’s first post-baby stay was almost three months long, punctuated by brief visits home. Since then, we have worked out a “visitation” schedule. Weekdays, Misty stays home with us and on weekends she stays with my folks. When I brought out the leash Friday morning, Misty did her usual berserk dance, following me impatiently until I buckled her in the front seat of my SUV (yes, she wears a doggie seatbelt).
Today was different from the scheduled doggie drop-off. I hauled both baby and his carriage along for a stroll in my folk’s shady green backyard. When I arrived, Dad was perched under the colossal mulberry tree, playing guitar and singing Tennessee folk songs.
My experiment with the stroller failed. Baby was not interested in touring the expanse of grass and trees. Instead, he insisted on sitting in grandma’s lap. Wearing a look of intense concern, the little one watched grandpa strum the guitar and sing.
All the while Misty ran and ran and ran, until her black flecked tongue quadrupled in size, hanging out of her mouth sideways. She eventually flopped down between mom and me, looking contented. It seemed perfectly sensible that the highlight of her week is a visit with my parents.
I remembered growing up in this huge, green backyard. I cavorted and collapsed much like Misty. Life is so peaceful under the cool shade of the mulberry; I think we’ll visit more often.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Shopping Spree!
No, I didn't run out and buy myself a sexy guy! I went shopping with Fontessa at Target to fill Tyoma's closet with size 2T clothes (for 2 year olds!). Her help with baby clothes was much appreciated. Especailly since our financial situation is so dire. We picked out some light colored tops and shorts to scare away the mosquitoes, plus family goodies.
Later, I took photos in the back yard:
It was weird, this is the most fun that I've had with Tanya since she's come. Also this is the first time I took any pictures with her. A day doing something together helped break the tension between us. This is good. I wish our visit could have been more like it was today.
Later, I took photos in the back yard:
Friday, April 27, 2007
Family Outing
From the center, left: Tyoma, Tennisfiend, Bestfiend, Papa Yuri, Mama Irina, Dadfiend, Momfiend and A.K.
Anyway, here's our little story. Since A.K's folks were in from Moscow at the same time as TF's mom, we were planning on having a giant multi-national jamboree at our house. Unfortunately, poor A.K. came down with his first flu in six years and was totally wiped out.
At the last minute, he suggested that we all meet at the park to protect baby from the flu and still say howdy. The party was set for 12:30, but I planned to meet my folks thirty minutes earlier to ease Tyoma into a new situation with minimal fussiness. New stuff=insane crying jag.
As fate would have it, A.K. and his folks were traveling near the park at about the same time I was. They saw my unmistakably familiar truck (it once belonged to A.K!) and pulled into the park. A.K. and I dashed out to meet each other, both wondering if we had mistaken the proper meeting time. Then my folks showed up! Despite the confusion, we sorted things out and the K family made a quick trip home to pic up camara gear and goodies.
Papa and Mama K gave Tyoma a traditional silver spoon for teething along with a teething toy. Papa Yuri explained how the spoon should be left in baby's water to "purify" it. This quaint custom actually has some medicinal basis since silver solutions are effective and gentle anti-microbials. Anyway, no one brought any vodka or caviar, but we all enjoyed bottled water, including Tyoma who sipped it from the plastic cap. Yay!
Thursday, January 4, 2007
Happy Anniversary Momfiend and Dadfiend!
Thirty four years ago today, my folks were mountain climbing in Southern New Mexico. This shot is from one of the summits or the Organ mountains.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Thanksgiving
 | Mom's Turkey |
This year Tennisfiend and I hosted Thanksgiving, despite my minimal participation. Momfiend did the hardest work, roasting a delicious free-range turkey with all the trimmings to perfection. Fontessa made fassol (Russian green beans) and yams, while Tennisfiend whipped up mashed potatoes. I supervised the baking of pies, set the table, poured (and drank!) the wine. Happy to be with the family on a food oriented holiday, Misty feasted on mashed potatoes and turkey.
We all had a wonderful time, despite the language barrier. Dad reads and writes Russian quite well, but is sometimes flummoxed in rapid conversations. On the other hand, I can barely read Russian and my grammar is marginal, yet I yammer endlessly and somehow manage to make myself understood. My mom, apparently, can read minds, so she doesn't need a translator at all.
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Dognapped!
If you xpect to see her again in good health
and with only a few bad habits, wire 5 million
Rasbuckniks (84.50 American Dollars) to
'RC2007 account 69, Bank of Nigeria'
You have till Midnight tonight, otherwise !!!
The Dirty Hand
My folks have had Misty on and off for almost two months while I have been recovering from Artyom's birth. She's back at their place again while I recuperate from my recent surgery. Anyway, this email greeted my grumpy, pain-bedeviled self this morning and really cracked me up. Heh.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Breast Surgery
Yep. This is backdated, fer sure. I was in no state to write on the day of my surgery, let alone compose coherent sentences!
Anyway, I went in for breast surgery today at 12:30 p.m. This is twelve hours after I learned that surfing the internet at light speed under the influence of Tylenol 3 can make a person barf, big time. I spent the rest of the night worrying about dying from my infection prior to surgery (think Jim Henson) or dying during surgery (think my grandpa) or waking up in recovery without a left breast (think neighbor lady).
Around two in the morning, I woke up to discover that my giant red lump had developed a purplish center. Since I still had no fever, I calmly called our nurse hotline and chatted with Barry, who assured me that I was not going to die--abscesses sometimes develop purple centers. He told me to truck down to the emergency room if I developed a fever or red streaks (I knew that having googled my condition extensively). Overall, he was sweet and reassuring; he made me feel much better. Mwah! Big kiss to Barry.
How ironic that someone who worries so much over her health in general could be taken by surprise and wind up needing a surgical procedure. Someone should have told me to see the doctor if a milk duct is plugged for more than three days. I also should have started pestering the radioligist sooner. Waiting the extra day and a half for surgery allowed my abscess to double in size--the difference between a needle in a doctor's office and general anesthesia in the hospital. Well, I survived the ordeal--
9:00 Arrive at Dr. Rubble's office. The nurse gasps when she looks at my abscess. She puts some pain relif lotion on it and tells me that the doctor will be in to lance the abscess shortly. I balk.
9:15 Dr. Rubble enters, non-chalantly looks at my breast, frowns at the nurse for putting on the lotion and tells her to schedule me for general anesthesia and a Incision and Drainage at noon today. I was rather expecting this. I actually request an IV from Dr. Rubble since I feel so dehydrated from last night's puking festival.
10:45 At the hospital with Tennisfiend, with the IV sloshing glucose, electrolytes and water into my system. A loquacious asian nurse makes me comfortable and continues a dialoge about asian culture with me nonstop until her lunchtime. I appreciate the distraction.
11:00 Momfiend and her backpack arrive. She leaves in an hour to relieve Fontessa, who has been babysitting Tyoma.
11:15 I am grateful that I brought my breast pump, since one is not readily avaible. I pump for a half an hour and worry about genral anethesia while TF tries to stay awake. My abscess is spectacularly painful and I can't take any meds for it.
11:45 The anesthesioligist arrives. He is a short, swarthy Robert Duvall with an inscrutably dry sense of humour. To prevent another barf-fest he orders medication to prevent nausea. Oddly enough, the anti-nauseant nauseates me. Bring out the pink puke cup!
12:00 The chatty nurse returns to inform me that Dr. Rubble will arrive shortly. In sotto voce, she tells us that he is running late.
12:30 The nurse starts the happy meds. I'd be sillier if I weren't so groggy. Pain decreases, yay!
12:45 Dr. Rubble arrives and I am whisked off to the operating chamber. They put a mask on me and my lights go out.
1:?? I wake up in recovery, still thinking i am in the operating room about to go under. Everything is foggy. I try to make some jokes, but clearly I'm the only one who realizes how hilarious I am. TF arrives. Dr. Rubble gives me detailed instructions related to wound care. I repeat everything back to him. He gives me a prescription for oxycodone. The next hour mysteriously disappears.
3:30 On the way home my lack of pain meds kicks in. Every bump is agonizing. I curse and whine at TF in a never ending stream. He escorts me to the couch and heads to Walgreens to drop off prescriptions. At home Mom listens patiently while I blather on endlessly. Must be some drugs left in my system!
4:00 I call Patto let her know I survived the surgery (she told me I would) and to beg her to stop by with some trashy mags after work. Fontessa naps and Mom continues to listen to me blabber non-stop.
Sometime after the pain meds kick in: Ewbliette arrives with a super sweet halloween ghost-bag full of goodies: The Enquirer, Star, Sun, The Globe, Weekly World News ("Alien Mummy Goes on Rampage," YAY!), Acoustic Guitar Magazine (for TF), chocolate covered macadamia nuts, and my favorite cheaparoonie candy--a Christoper's Big Cherry! Ewbliette takes over for Momfiend in listening to me prattle on, even giving me a foot massage! Friends and Family rule!
Anyway, I went in for breast surgery today at 12:30 p.m. This is twelve hours after I learned that surfing the internet at light speed under the influence of Tylenol 3 can make a person barf, big time. I spent the rest of the night worrying about dying from my infection prior to surgery (think Jim Henson) or dying during surgery (think my grandpa) or waking up in recovery without a left breast (think neighbor lady).
Around two in the morning, I woke up to discover that my giant red lump had developed a purplish center. Since I still had no fever, I calmly called our nurse hotline and chatted with Barry, who assured me that I was not going to die--abscesses sometimes develop purple centers. He told me to truck down to the emergency room if I developed a fever or red streaks (I knew that having googled my condition extensively). Overall, he was sweet and reassuring; he made me feel much better. Mwah! Big kiss to Barry.
How ironic that someone who worries so much over her health in general could be taken by surprise and wind up needing a surgical procedure. Someone should have told me to see the doctor if a milk duct is plugged for more than three days. I also should have started pestering the radioligist sooner. Waiting the extra day and a half for surgery allowed my abscess to double in size--the difference between a needle in a doctor's office and general anesthesia in the hospital. Well, I survived the ordeal--
9:15 Dr. Rubble enters, non-chalantly looks at my breast, frowns at the nurse for putting on the lotion and tells her to schedule me for general anesthesia and a Incision and Drainage at noon today. I was rather expecting this. I actually request an IV from Dr. Rubble since I feel so dehydrated from last night's puking festival.
10:45 At the hospital with Tennisfiend, with the IV sloshing glucose, electrolytes and water into my system. A loquacious asian nurse makes me comfortable and continues a dialoge about asian culture with me nonstop until her lunchtime. I appreciate the distraction.
11:00 Momfiend and her backpack arrive. She leaves in an hour to relieve Fontessa, who has been babysitting Tyoma.
11:15 I am grateful that I brought my breast pump, since one is not readily avaible. I pump for a half an hour and worry about genral anethesia while TF tries to stay awake. My abscess is spectacularly painful and I can't take any meds for it.
11:45 The anesthesioligist arrives. He is a short, swarthy Robert Duvall with an inscrutably dry sense of humour. To prevent another barf-fest he orders medication to prevent nausea. Oddly enough, the anti-nauseant nauseates me. Bring out the pink puke cup!
12:00 The chatty nurse returns to inform me that Dr. Rubble will arrive shortly. In sotto voce, she tells us that he is running late.
12:30 The nurse starts the happy meds. I'd be sillier if I weren't so groggy. Pain decreases, yay!
12:45 Dr. Rubble arrives and I am whisked off to the operating chamber. They put a mask on me and my lights go out.
1:?? I wake up in recovery, still thinking i am in the operating room about to go under. Everything is foggy. I try to make some jokes, but clearly I'm the only one who realizes how hilarious I am. TF arrives. Dr. Rubble gives me detailed instructions related to wound care. I repeat everything back to him. He gives me a prescription for oxycodone. The next hour mysteriously disappears.
3:30 On the way home my lack of pain meds kicks in. Every bump is agonizing. I curse and whine at TF in a never ending stream. He escorts me to the couch and heads to Walgreens to drop off prescriptions. At home Mom listens patiently while I blather on endlessly. Must be some drugs left in my system!
4:00 I call Pat
Sometime after the pain meds kick in: Ewbliette arrives with a super sweet halloween ghost-bag full of goodies: The Enquirer, Star, Sun, The Globe, Weekly World News ("Alien Mummy Goes on Rampage," YAY!), Acoustic Guitar Magazine (for TF), chocolate covered macadamia nuts, and my favorite cheaparoonie candy--a Christoper's Big Cherry! Ewbliette takes over for Momfiend in listening to me prattle on, even giving me a foot massage! Friends and Family rule!
Friday, October 20, 2006
Tennisfiend's Mom
Well, the day has finally arrived. E's mom, Tanya will be arriving from Russia in less than twelve hours! This will be her third visit to the states, and her first visit in five years. We hope that she will stay with us for a couple of months, at least. Yay! She will cook for us! Not that my mom hasn’t been breaking her back to cook, but with the two of them on duty, we won’t have to stomach another Stouffer Classic Lasgna meal for a long time. Actually, Stouffer isn’t half bad, Hormel meals are the worst. Bleagh!
All food fantasies aside, Fontessa is a caring, sensitive and generous woman. She was so kind to me when I first came to Moscow eleven years ago. A strange American woman marries her son after dating for seven months and she welcomes me with champagne and kisses. Treating me like the daughter she never had, she never once made me feel unwelcome. Fresh flowers greeted me every time I visited her dacha (country home) and she always fixed my favorite dishes. (More cooking references, hmmmm…) At family parties, with no one but my husband speaking English, she made sure I was included and even the center of attention. I was treated like a genuine queen.
In the time that we have been apart, Fontessa (and the rest of our family) never forgets an anniversary, birthday, or special holiday. She constantly sends photographs of her lovely garden and plenty of nifty care packages. When Fontessa visits us, she is just as delightful. None of this bossy mother-in-law stuff--total respect for my way of doing things, but her spirit and attitudes always shine through. Do I love this woman? You bet! Her visits are a dream!
All food fantasies aside, Fontessa is a caring, sensitive and generous woman. She was so kind to me when I first came to Moscow eleven years ago. A strange American woman marries her son after dating for seven months and she welcomes me with champagne and kisses. Treating me like the daughter she never had, she never once made me feel unwelcome. Fresh flowers greeted me every time I visited her dacha (country home) and she always fixed my favorite dishes. (More cooking references, hmmmm…) At family parties, with no one but my husband speaking English, she made sure I was included and even the center of attention. I was treated like a genuine queen.
In the time that we have been apart, Fontessa (and the rest of our family) never forgets an anniversary, birthday, or special holiday. She constantly sends photographs of her lovely garden and plenty of nifty care packages. When Fontessa visits us, she is just as delightful. None of this bossy mother-in-law stuff--total respect for my way of doing things, but her spirit and attitudes always shine through. Do I love this woman? You bet! Her visits are a dream!
Okay. I’m calm now. Gooey relative rave is over. J
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Happy Grandparent's Day!
Friday, August 4, 2006
Misty Care Sheet For Dadfiend
Dad! Here's everything you need to know for Misty and our House while everyone is at the hospital:
Yay! Thank you!
Misty
Feeding
We feed Misty in the morning after we have eaten (she usually won’t eat before since she wants our food instead!). She gets a can of dogfood and two scoops of dry food mixed with a treat.
Problem Foods
Avoid giving Misty eggs, milk products (including creamy soups, sour cream & yogurt), almonds, walnuts, pecans and chocolate.
Misty is fine with peanuts, all meats, bread, grains. She can have a small amount of beans and cheese (Velveeta cheese slices) without problem. You can give her as much doggie biscuits as you like, she tolerates them well.
Tummy Trouble
If you think Misty has tummy trouble, three things seem to help:
- Give her broth to drink, about ¼ of a cup every half hour to replace fluids. If you think she needs some energy, a spoon or two of honey is helpful.
- No people treats for two days (a few doggie treats are fine).
- Wait at least six/eight hours after her last bout of sickness to feed her. Skip the dry dog food and give her one can of dogfood, you can give her another six/eight hours later.
Hydration/Heat
Sometimes Misty forgets to drink enough water. Filling a quart jar with fresh water in front of her seems to help. On a very hot day, you might want to keep her in during the hottest hours. She will chase lizards until she drops!
Late Night Restlessness
If Misty rams around late at night (11pm-3am), wanting outside, chances are her stomach is upset. She usually wants to go outside to eat a mess of grass-- not to be sick. The grass she eats will cause vomiting. Watch her very carefully outside, she is terribly sneaky about grass eating. After a walk or two outside, we usually keep her in and toss a special “barf carpet” by the door if she gets sick.
If she doesn’t seem interested in sneaking away from you to eat grass, she might want to hunt neighborhood cats--especially if her tail and ears are up. This usually happens around the full moon.
Misty might want outside around dawn (430am on). This is normal.
Doggie Meds
We will give you some doggie calm meds for Misty. The dosage is ¼ tablet, although she can take up to one whole tablet. We have never given her more than ¼ tablet in a twelve hour period. The tabs seem to take 3 hours to reach a maximum effectiveness (they might not seem to work at all till then!), and then they last for another four to eight hours.
When we leave for the hospital, we will leave you a note/message with the time of the last dosage we gave her to keep you from dosing her too soon. You don’t need to give her any more meds unless you choose to. In fact, she may be just fine and not need any until we are ready to bring her home. We’ll give you call to dose her a few hours before I come home.
Misty’s Vet: Dr. Calista 525-1000
1080 Medpark Drive
Other House Stuff
You are welcome to come on over and watch dvds on our TV. I’ll leave you detailed instructions and hopefully have things set up for you.
You don’t need to worry about mail or the lights, but you are welcome to check on each.
Sunroom Flooding
- If the water is more than halfway up the sunroom floor, turn off the breaker switch to the sunroom. The switch will be marked in the laundryroom.
- We will leave our pump hooked up so all you need to do is plug it in if it floods. Plug the pump into the outlet with the blue tape on it. Or use the extension cord if the room is too flooded. Be sure to use chairs to keep the cord connections out of the water if you use the extension cord.
- The pump will need time to prime itself, this can take five-ten minutes. You can hasten the process by priming it in a basin filled with water that we will leave nearby.
- We will leave towels out in case you need them. If we forget, they are located on a cube shelf in the big closet in our bedroom (the one with the door on the south wall). Please don’t worry about cleaning up anything. E will be happy to have something to do when he comes home!
Yay! Thank you!
Thursday, April 6, 2006
No House Guests, Please
I've been a cranky hormonal mess. In November, the acne freight train, dropped off twin parcels of cheek pimples and a load of painful chin bumps. I'm better now, though still freaked out over using anything but the softest rain water on my face for fear of baby contamination. Too much in the news about autism and other developmental problems for me to use shampoos with sulfates or even shaving cream for my legs.
Oh, no! I think that I just realized what's making me irritable! Lack of 21st century chemicals. Well, after baby is born and I've nursed him for a year I'll go rub my body in Pantene and Twinkies.
So, last night Egor told me that he wants his mother to come here and stay for a few months of my pregnancy. My first reply was, "Oh, hell no!" I am so totally spazzed out over the slightest thing that I can't imagine having to get the house ready for a visit plus entertain his mother, in Russian, for two months. My mom is handling me with kid gloves, Patricia shovels big buckets of sweet sugar on me, and I'm still a mess.
But, E said how much it would help me and him. He said I needed her and most of all, it would mean so much to his mom to be a part of my pregnancy. I cried, I wept, but I eventually said, "Okay, if you really think we need it."
He called and gave them the green light.
I could not sleep that night. I really, really really did not want his mom here. At all. Until after the baby is born. I can't even put my reason in words, it just feels like it would be too much stress. Stress for me, not so bad, but stress on my baby is unacceptable. So I cried and cried and pleaded and he called the family and told them it would be too hard for me. Everything is okay, now. But I get the impression that they don't understand why I don't want company. I just don't. I'm not that person. I am a happy book reading, TV watching, writing little hermit.
Oh, no! I think that I just realized what's making me irritable! Lack of 21st century chemicals. Well, after baby is born and I've nursed him for a year I'll go rub my body in Pantene and Twinkies.
So, last night Egor told me that he wants his mother to come here and stay for a few months of my pregnancy. My first reply was, "Oh, hell no!" I am so totally spazzed out over the slightest thing that I can't imagine having to get the house ready for a visit plus entertain his mother, in Russian, for two months. My mom is handling me with kid gloves, Patricia shovels big buckets of sweet sugar on me, and I'm still a mess.
But, E said how much it would help me and him. He said I needed her and most of all, it would mean so much to his mom to be a part of my pregnancy. I cried, I wept, but I eventually said, "Okay, if you really think we need it."
He called and gave them the green light.
I could not sleep that night. I really, really really did not want his mom here. At all. Until after the baby is born. I can't even put my reason in words, it just feels like it would be too much stress. Stress for me, not so bad, but stress on my baby is unacceptable. So I cried and cried and pleaded and he called the family and told them it would be too hard for me. Everything is okay, now. But I get the impression that they don't understand why I don't want company. I just don't. I'm not that person. I am a happy book reading, TV watching, writing little hermit.
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