all the things. in one post.

o1) contests, i just don’t know how to quit you. picture me right now doing the beauty pageant hyperventilating hands-on-mouth I CAN’T BELIEVE IT squeal, because i’m in season 9 of project run and play.


for those who don’t know (gasp! how?) it’s only my favorite online sewing competition EV-AH. for realsies. 6 “designers”, 4 weeks, fight to the finish. hopefully the cornucopia is full of japanese cutting shears and high end machines, because i require the best. :/
anyway, there’s a theme for each week, and my brain has been churning since i was asked to be a part of the contest a couple months ago. i’ve been counting down the days and now it’s really happening and i’m all pukey-excited. the actual competition doesn’t start until next month, but for me the sewing begins STAT. i haven’t really sewn in a couple of months now, and there’s a LOT of pent up sewing energy stored in me.
i’m also going up against 4 awesome seamstresses. some i already ‘knew’, others i’m just discovering. and i’m feeling there’s a super big chance i’ll be the first one thrown off the island. or shot with an arrow, whatever competition metaphor floats your fancy. but i’m going to try my hardest to have a blast with this no matter what.

let the games begin.

(you thought i was gonna say let the odds be ever in your favor, right? heh.)

o2) we bought a dog. or, another dog i guess i should say. thing is: i am a hardcore believer in rescues. also, i am cheap as all get out and the thought of spending ooh-gobs of money on an animal makes me throw up in my mouth a little. oh, and i like big, BIG dogs.

well here i am with my tail between my legs. i bought a dog, from a pet store, who is AKC registered and i can trace his lineage back 4 generations. and i paid ooh-gobs of money. and he’s 2.5 lbs.



but that face. THAT FACE. he’s a chihuahua (in case that’s not glaringly obvious) and his name is Santino Burrito. and if you could trill your ‘r’ that’d be great.
he’s technically for gigi, the child who would gladly give up 3 of her 4 limbs to own a cat. but the googiedaddy is prejudiced against things that poop in the house, and i’m prejudiced against things that make me not able to breath. so we found the most catlike dog we could.

o3) i’m seriously lost when it comes to things like SEO and pageviews and stuff. but once in a while i poke around in google analytics for giggles. here is a list of search terms people use that lead them to googiemomma.blogspot.com.



refashioning, sewing, crocheting…all your basics WAIT WHAT?

boobs. on a shelf.

well. i…why? nevermind. i don’t want to know.

o4) the sickies: ava had a foot checkup. insert thumbs up here. doc says all good, no need for casting for a while. picture me doing the dance of joy. yes, like balki.


GIFSoup
i'm so old.

gigi had a blood test which placed her platelets at 770,000. a mere TWO TIMES NORMAL. umm, ok. doc says all good—means her bone marrow has been working like gang busters to catch up, and the immune system has probably stopped killing off platelets so now it’s overcompensating. like peddling a bike really hard up a hill, then you hit the top and start going down but you’re still peddling really hard for a minute until you realize WHOA i made it!
so…a more cautious dance of joy, because she’s still having mild spells of petechiae and occasional bruises that make us go on high alert. nothing warranting a run to the ER, but concerning…

o5) i’m working now. well, i mean like outside of the home. and, not just for the family business. okay—i’m working more. ha. i got a little gig waiting tables at lunch at the local pizza place we frequent. i actually really enjoy it, and i’m making decent money (FABRIC FUNDZZZ.) for doing about 9 hours a week. only problem is i’m finding sewing time a bit harder to come by. and blogging time. oh yeah and cleaning the house time. yesss…that’s why it’s not clean. ;)
but i’ve still got a back log of things i never blogged, and with point #1 on the horizon you can be sure i’m finding sewing/blogging time in the next few weeks! even if i have to cut out something major. like sleep. nah, i need my sleep. sorry kids—it’s pb & j breakfast, lunch and dinner for the next few weeks.

more words i don’t know how to say.

well. it’s been quite a couple of weeks. it’s been quiet here on the blog, and for good reason. i talked about the stomach bug that went through—3 of the 5 succumbed in the end. that was tag-teamed with the googiedaddy coming down with a massive flu and possible infection on top of it. dude, he was so sick. dude, i just said dude.

it was not a pleasant week. i lost track of how many times i changed sheets, how many loads of laundry i did, how many cups of tea and ginger ale i poured.

and then you think I AM SO OVER THIS and your dad texts you and says mom is really sick not sure if should go to hospital. so i drove over to find my poor momma curled in a ball on the bathroom floor with waves of pain. dad and i got her in bed, and after conferencing for a few minutes decided it was off to the hospital.

eventually i instagrammed a pic of my #DAREcember challenge from the room we were in…when we thought it was just a nasty stomach bug and she’d be home after some fluids. HA.

that was last sunday, she just got out of the hospital yesterday. it wasn’t a nasty stomach bug. actually they’re not really definitive on what it was, all the tests came back negative and ruled out e-coli and other bacterial nasties. but she was—and is—really sick.

so then you’re basically like I HAVE HAD IT UP TO HERE AND SO HELP ME I WILL CRY IF YOU LOOK AT ME CROSS-EYED. you know, your basic threat level orange or whatever.
and you know, in the best foreshadowing fashion, that this is where it really gets fun.

wednesday morning i jumped into the shower and called for gigi to come in with me. she’d been congested and i wanted her to try and clear out in a steamy shower. as soon as she took off her clothes and jumped in with me i noticed three dark bruises—two on her arms, one on her right hipbone.

here’s the thing: i can’t tell you why i knew they weren’t right. i have five children. i’ve probably seen 6.4 billion bruises in my mothering career so far. these were…off. they weren’t very large, but they were dark purple and in very odd places.

she doesn’t attend preschool and is rarely not with me, but i still looked in her eyes and asked if anyone hit her. she said no.

so we got out of the shower and i lotioned her up, taking that time to give her a good lookover. i noticed that she had little red dots on her neck, as if she had scratched it and broken tiny blood vessels. she also had a severely chapped lip—her bottom lip looked like she had chewed the snot out of it and was scabby and bloody. she had woken up with that a few days prior.

fortunately i have that honorary doctorate from google, which comes in super handy at times like this. i was simultaneously googling “dark bruises + chapped lips” while texting jeremy “please tell me i’m crazy right now, mmkay?”
he’s a good guy, so he complied.
”you’re crazy, calm down, she’s fine. she’s klutzy.”
but he wasn’t quite fast enough because i’d already found my answer: ITP. Immune or Idiopathic Thrombocytopenia Purpura.
winner winner chicken dinner.

ITP is basically your immune system going haywire. it begins attacking your platelets—the cells in your blood that are “sticky”—the ones responsible for clotting. when your immune system attacks your platelets they die off faster than new ones can be made in your bone marrow and your numbers plummet. normal platelet count is 150,000-350,000.
symptoms: bruises, bleeding of the mucosal membranes (i.e. lips), petechiae (the little red dots all over her skin).

it was too close. the symptoms fit too well. i was most definitely edging toward threat level red.

jeremy texted me back. i read about that thing. i think you should call the doctor.
so i did.
we were there by 11:40. the PA we saw (who i will never, ever see again) initially downplayed.
well kids get bruises.
eyeroll from me. okay thanks i guess i’m an idiot. listen to me: these are different.
then i showed her the neck dots. that got a response.
we headed off for bloodwork—which means wrapping my legs and arms around my baby while she screams and begs for this NOT to happen. ever done it? it’s not pleasant.

you know that feeling when you just KNOW? every fiber of your being just knows? i spent thursday alternately eating all my fingernails off and trying not to cry or puke and calling the doctor’s office to pressure them a little more. they finally called back at 11:30.
everything came back normal. RBC, WBC, all perfectly normal. oh—but her platelets clumped so we didn’t get a count on them. so we’ll put in an order for more labs.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME? the one number we needed was the one number we didn’t have. and now i have to go through the holding my baby down process again.

by thursday night she had a lot more bruises.

friday morning. i said to jeremy “do you think they check all the labs that come in and see if anything is really bad and they call them right away?”
our phone rang at 8:50.

gigi’s platelet levels were 23,000.

the PA was completely nonchalant about it. i’m going to have you make an appointment with a hematologist for followup.

i was like uhhh…wait. what? because i don’t know about you but i’ve googled this and i’m thinking 23,000 is a little more serious than “call a hemotologist for an appointment”. so she said if i wanted she could call too.
then i punched her in the neck.
okay no i didn’t but i said thanks but no thanks i’ll make my own phone calls.

we called a few different resources and hospitals. the PA called back.
uhhh…i spoke with the hematology department at CHOP and they’re working on an appointment for gisele but if they can’t get you in today you’ll probably have to take her to the ER.

NO KIDDING.

we packed for an overnight stay. we dressed. we were waiting for a last call back from a hospital in NJ. a nurse from the ped’s office called again: umm, **** (the PA) heard back from CHOP and they said you need to take Gisele to the ER right now. are you going?

saying that i was angry is a little bit of an understatement.

we got in the car and drove to the ER. we’re fortunate to be a 1/2 hour drive from some of the best hospitals in the U.S., but that doesn’t help at all when you’re taking one of your babies there.

gigi was cool with the hospital idea. we told her that her blood was sick, and she needed to go to the big hospital so they could help her. yes, she’s going to have to have more bloodwork. we explained an IV as best we could. she was less cool with that.

and from that point it basically went as expected: our nurse was awesome. like really, really awesome. she placed an IV, then took more blood for labs. we waited.
her platelets were up to 43,000.
the hematologist came down and talked with us. at that point it was basically confirmed for us: gisele has ITP.
her platelets had gone up and that was a good sign, but it didn’t change things too much. her risk of bleeding remained basically the same. what’s the treatment? well there’s a few different things they can try. but the bottom line is her body has to do this on it’s own. the treatments are just temporary stopgap measures, and with a level of 43,000 we can wait and watch and see if her body can figure it out on it’s own. there are children walking around with much lower numbers.
meanwhile: no wrestling, no jumping off things. if she bangs her head, immediately back to the ER. if she has a nosebleed or bleeding from anywhere that’s excessive or we can’t control after 1/2 hr, back to the ER. car accident or any major trauma, back to the ER.

ITP in children has a very good chance of spontaneous remission—it will go away and that’s it. it can take up to 9 months, it can happen in a couple of weeks. there is a chance it could become chronic. but we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. 

gigi goes in monday morning to the hematology clinic. she’ll have bloodwork again to check her levels. driving 95 with her…ugh. i asked jeremy if it was insane to make her wear a helmet in the car? honestly, it’s not—the hematologist offered to send us home with one if it made us more comfortable.

so this is our new normal. i’m going to be 34 this month, and i didn’t really have any grey hairs. but everyone knows—these little rugrats will give ‘em to ya. a 5 year old with a platelet count of 43,000 who is trying to ride her new scooter through the house? i could feel them sprouting in my head.

in truth though, this, right now—knowing what we’re dealing with--is 1000x better than the not knowing of wednesday and thursday. it’s another thing to roll in to our life and keep on going.

as soon as we can remember how to say it.

party time. excellent.

as i lay in my cell phone-lit room last night pondering various metaphors to begin this post, i struck upon one that seems fairly obvious. but it fits, so here goes.
it’s like a storm. you see the big black thunderheads off in the distance, but first you’re optimistic—cocky even. pshaw. that’s gonna pass us right by. good westerly wind will blow it right on past.

but it doesn’t work that way—the clouds continue to build and drift menacingly closer and before you know it drops of rain are hitting your shoulders and you’re still thinking it’s okay. really. we’re going to be okay because this will be quick and you know what? in a way it’s almost good. we can use the rain.

it doesn’t much matter what kind of face you put on it though. in the end it’s going to happen just like you knew it would from the first sign of inclement weather. so when it’s like threat level magenta or something and panic mode hits and you’re running for shelter (and now i’m mixing metaphors but it’s okay because IT’S THAT BAD) the last thing you can think is we’ll all be alright in the end. we can make it through because we have plenty of canned food and a good clean up team.

here it comes people. and i hope you’re ready.

it’s like a tornado. no. it’s like wildfire combined with a tornado. not good enough.  make that a wildfire enhanced sharknado, because when you have five kids and the first one cries “my belly hurts” you kinda feel like the lady spying the thunderheads.

then that one starts hurling and you’re all hey. we can do this. you’re still not so sleep-deprived that you can’t joke with your significant other in the middle of the night. babe, if you’re gonna spew, spew in this. ::gigglesnort::
you’re awesome, you got this, changing sheets and doing laundry and running baths at 3 am is kind of exhilirating in a deep-in-the-trenches-of-parenthood-these-are-the-moments-that-make-up-our-lives sort of way.

but by the end of it you’re creeping cautiously from your shelter, blinking in the sunlight and whispering it’s alright. we have plenty of canned food and a good cleanup team.

we were hit hard two years ago, and i waxed poetically about it then. but last year we were spared and i should have known—the odds were certainly NOT in our favor for this year.

one down, four to go.
errr….i’m sorry. update. make that two down, three to go. wildfire sharknado, people.
i find myself pondering such brain benders as how old should a child be to have to dump and rinse their own puke bucket without you being a Bad Mommy? because i gotta tell ya, about 5 is my limit. ::heave, heave::

and not to be completely disgusting…okay, yes sorry i’m about keeping it real. so to be completely disgusting and because my husband and i came of age in the 90’s we think we’re terribly funny when we say, dude. she didn’t throw up. she blew chunks. because yeah, that’s exactly what elliot did. and once you know the difference you KNOW the difference.

and elliot—who shall henceforth be known as Patient Zero, lay there listening she looked up at me with ruddy cheeks and glassy eyes and said…

chunks.

yes, elliot. chunks.

mommy. chunk is not yummy. chunks is stinky.

you’re absolutely right elliot. now can someone pass me the can opener.

so long and thanks for all the chews.

so on friday i had my wisdom teeth out. yeah, i know—you’re supposed to have that done when you’re a teen.

but my teeth weren’t a problem until i started having babies. then they came in one by one. every pregnancy was another wisdom tooth, another cavity. boo.
the bottom 2 impacted, the top 2 in but sooo far back that i couldn’t brush them. it was a huge cavity in the top left guy that finally forced me to make the appointment.

so off we went to the oral surgeon—me hopped up on a valium + laughing gas + whatever it was they put in the IV. i thought everrrrrything was soooo funny.  BUT…i was awake and aware of everything happening. and about halfway through the procedure i was no longer laughing. i was still very relaxed, but also wide awake. i wanted to tell the doc, but that’s a little difficult when your mouth has that metal…uhh…mouth speculum thing in it? so i started singing along to the piped in music, hoping that would give him a clue.

“oh, are you singing?” he laughed at me. okay, well that didn’t work. apparently singing isn’t too unusual. but whatever. i guess there was enough meds that i wasn’t too worked up.

by the time they moved me to the recovery area and brought jeremy in i was wide awake and fine. packed full of gauze but trying to talk because, well, i’m an idiot? and then trying to explain to the receptionist that no i didn’t owe her $90, i only owed $26 and pulling up my EOB on my phone to show her. with a numb face and mouth full of gauze.

type-A personality, anyone? hope i didn’t drool on her shoulder.

so because i’m a special snowflake my bottom two teeth gave the doc a run for his money. he said they were the worst he’s had all summer. stupid 33 year old teeth were quite settled in and didn’t was to leave. he gave me some meds in the IV for swelling, and a script for more swelling reducing medication, in addition to a powerful pain med and antibiotic. sheesh.

me + pain meds? nope. puke city. so i switched quickly to just ibuprofen and ice (pea) packs, and that’s where i’ve been since.

i spent the weekend crocheting, candy crushing, movie watching gumming crackers and mashed potatoes and I’M ALL DONE NOW.

but the doc warned me that the swelling would continue to increase through monday because of how nasty those bottom 2 teeth were. i hadn’t noticed a huge difference this morning from yesterday…then i realized that i have to push my cheeks out of the way to close my mouth or i would bite down on them. huh. i guess the swelling moved inside.

so here i am, hubby back to work, kids of school-age schooling, and the little two Just Dance-ing. i’m ready to throw down a handfull of pills that are supposed to make me better, and then i’m off to find something to gum for breakfast.

mashed potatoes and eggs, anyone?

where i’ve been.

turns out, once you kind of give in to letting the blogging slide…it becomes easier and easier to let the blogging slide.

the weeks have been full—typical end of the school year stuff like art shows and chorus concerts.

typical spring outdoor stuff like putting in ponds and ordering 10 tons of rock (eek!)

don’t be fooled by the mindtrick that is this picture—ten tons of rock is a LOT of rock.

then of course there’s our other typical spring routine…

more casting for our tiny tim. seems like it gets just a little harder each time. this time, for her week in a long leg cast, we broke down and rented a wheelchair. that cast is heavy and by the end of a day on crutches she was in pain—both her leg/foot and arms. but we made it ten days and had her followup yesterday…

cast number 38, and YAY for short leg casts you can walk on!!! (the crutches were temporary because her leg is pretty sore for a while after the old cast comes off). this guy will be on for two weeks, then fitted for new braces and casted for about 4 more weeks while we wait for the braces. so she’s going to be casted through the end of the school year and into the beginning of summer. :o( bummer.

i’ve had my own issues, too. some health concerns are necessitating a switch off my current meds and over to new medication. the truth is i haven’t been “right” since elliot was born. my body knew that, and i knew that, but it’s taken me until now to convince the doctors of that. the numbers on the tests are starting to bear out what i’ve been saying for a long time now, so they’re listening. unfortunately that’s the time and place we live in—doctors put more stock in numbers on paper than on what you say about how you’re feeling. but whatever. i’m not holding a grudge. i’m just hopeful that in the next few weeks i’ll have some answers.

BUT ANYWAY…

there’s been sewing. lots and lots of sewing, actually. and even some crocheting (gasp! that’s a winter hobby!)

all things i’m going to share soon.

also, i’m honored to be a part of this again this year--

woohoo! coming in june! pretty sure i know what i’m doing…just have to, err…do it. ;0)

you may remember my contribution last year—my maxi dress.

why not check out some of the other tutorials from last year HERE? you know, to tide you over until i get my act together and start posting something besides random collections of…randomness entirely illustrated by photos stolen from my instagram feed. hehe.

les filles nagent. (did i mention we’ve decided to learn french as a family? you know…cause we’re bored.)

a bit of a recommendation, loves.

i’ve spent the last 2 days basically in bed. isn’t that the way it goes? harrison gets a cold, elliot gets the sniffles, guinevere has a cough…mom has a fever off and on and feels like an elephant is sitting on her chest. an elephant with a knife in it’s trunk that it reaches around and stabs through her shoulder blade every time she tries taking a deep breath.

rotten elephant.

i’m 85% certain i’ve got pleurisy—not the first time. and i’m off to the doctor today for confirmation and some sweet, sweet antibiotics.

in the meantime—don’t cry for me, argentina, because being in bed allowed me the fun of catching up on all three episodes of The Great British Sewing Bee.

let’s be honest—i’ve got the latest season of project runway sitting on my dvr, and i haven’t even watched so much as a minute of it. the last few seasons have been on a slippery downhill slope of actual garment making < antics and drama-llamaism. while i‘ll be the first to admit that a bit of interpersonal angst can keep the interest up…it seems they straight up forgot the basic premise of the show. too many contestants to keep track of, too much…ugh.

the great british sewing bee is like a breath of fresh air (one not punctuated by a knife-wielding elephant).

the premise is 8 “home sewers” pulled together and given three challenges over 2 days—generally an alteration, a refashion, and a new garment. they are allowed patterns, they’ve practiced, and they’re happy and smiling and drinking tea and supporting one another in a way you’d never see on PR these days. don’t get me wrong—there are tears. but they are from lost pattern pieces and miscuts, not backstabbing (there’s that elephant again).

however there’s been not a WORD that i’ve noticed of “WHAT THEY WIN” or “OUR FABULOUS SPONSERS” or productplacementproductplacementproductplacement. again—i realize this is the nature of the beast, and should the show begin garnering the kind of popularity i think it will/and deserves i suppose it’s a matter of time. but i’m so over hearing repeated the fabulous prize package through each and every PR episode…

this is sewing like WE do. we use patterns, we alter, we refashion, we are real people. and the fact is i’m simply chuffed to bits over this show and can’t wait for episode four—and i seriously hope they keep it up. (plus i get to brush up on all my british anachronisms)

you can watch it here. grab a spot of tea and join me, won’t you?

market dress

i took these photos under duress. not my own personal duress, but the duress of my children. they wanted absolutely no parts of dressing up and brushing hair and taking pictures on this particular day.

i made them do it anyway. i pleaded and cajoled and handed out lollipops.

that night they both came down with fevers, and gigi ended up with the flu for the next week.

that’s Spectacular Parenting, for the win.

all the photos looked like garbage.

that’s paybacks, or just desserts, or whatever.

:/

that stupid emoticon does not sufficiently represent the face i’m making as i explain all this, but you get the gist, right?

it’s like this:

(that’s a gift, from me to you)

anyway…initially i rejected all the pics and figured i’d reshoot later. here we are 3 weeks later and i lack the desire or initiative to go through the entire process again. my sparse posting of late is the effect of busy weeks full of, well, busy-ness leaving me with a total lack of desire to blog—or truthfully, do anything not absolutely necessary. the upcoming week is looking to be just as crazy as i temporarily become the mother of eight, versus my normal five. (!) i’m so out of the rhythm that i even considered a vlog, just so i didn’t have to type. but i’m unshowered (another thing i don’t feel like doing), and i can’t remember the last time i brushed my teeth, so i’ll spare you that.

so you get unworthy market dress pictures, attitude crazy soon-to-be-very-sick eyes and all.

i’ve been holding on to this fabric for a while. it was an impulse buy, irresistable with it’s cute little animals heading to market. the muted colors are soft and pretty.

i bought plain seafoam green cotton for the base and made a simple dress—full skirted with some pintucks on the bottom.

i do love me some pintucks.

grey and white buttons adorn the apron top and the two big pockets on the skirt.

the back—which i apparently completely neglected to photograph—closes with a button placket. i didn’t extend it quite far enough down, so it’s a bit of a squeeze getting it on. oops. ;)

together i think the dress is cute, but maybe lacking a little something? i’m not sure. i do like the non-traditional color, and the little faux apron effect is cute.

another thing to note: why yes, she is standing on our new dining room table. the face for that statement is different than the one above. it’s more a cheese grin, thusly:

:D

also known as the “don’t be mad husband, look at what a good backdrop it makes!” face.

linking up here:

it’s been.

it’s been one of those weeks.

one of those weeks where you head into it knowing it’s going to be crazy. and you’re right—but not for the reasons you’re expecting.

your to-do list is a joke: more things piled in each day than can possibly be done. but you have high hopes. #unrealistic
there’s a big weekend coming—dresses to sew and please PLEASE finally finish the boy’s suit. maybe? there’s etsy shop orders to do and finish and ship for patiently waiting customers.

and then…

then your dad goes to the hospital sunday night. and there’s talk of emergency surgery and things are up in the air.

and then things start settling down. probably he’ll be okay. probably rest and medicine will make it better for now, and the surgery can happen later on a non-emergent basis.

and so you breath a sigh of relief. and head down to the cafeteria for a snack because you’re one of those people who secretly actually kind of love hospital food.

and then…

then a 14 year old, who’s story you’ve been following for a while now, succumbs to the cancer that’s been plaguing her for five years. 
and you don’t know her personally…but does that matter?

when you’re sitting in the hospital room with your dad and your phone dings a new message and you see what it is—a notification from a caring bridge site--and you instantly dread opening it because you know—you JUST KNOW—what it is…yeah, it’s been one of those weeks.

because even if you didn’t actually know her, she’s a FOURTEEN YEAR OLD GIRL for cryin’ out loud and she should be playing with her sister and talking about boys and laughing and having sleepovers and not DYING FROM CANCER.

and then…

and then it hits closer. because someone you DO know personally—a wife, a mother, a grandmother, a good woman who has been battling her own battle for over a year now also succumbs.

and that’s what this is really about. 

…

today it’s been one of those days. this week has been one of those weeks.

my silly to-do list made me chuckle when i saw it on the fridge this evening. because it was done for by tuesday, when my brain packed it’s bags and took a brief hiatus. it hit the high road and all i could do was untangle yarn.

literally.

three hours spent sitting at my dining room table, untangling yarn, with only my thoughts as company.

by wednesday i was spent. it’s been one of those weeks that by hump day i didn’t even have words left—me, who has too many words all of the time. and i had to ask my husband to pray the words i couldn’t come up with anymore.

today it was over.

tonight in line at walmart i turned to jeremy and said i feel the need of a good cry.

i need a cleansing cry.

it’s been one of those weeks, you know.

…

my daddy will be okay. he will most likely be released tomorrow. we brought him balloons and watched his tiny tv with him yesterday.

but i’m thinking now of a family without a wife and mother tonight. a woman who is me in ten short years. her children a little older, her marriage a little longer. she was kind and funny and although we weren’t best friends she was a friend, and her passing has put an ache in the middle of my chest that literally physically hurts. the last time i spoke with her she was weak. and tired. and sad. and she told me to enjoy every minute with my babies. and she told me that she would give anything to be where i was—young, happy, with health and life ahead of me. but then she told me how thankful she was though that she’s older now, and that her children aren’t babies anymore. because at least she got to raise them this far and how much more difficult would this be if her children were still babies?

how do you answer that?

it’s been one of those weeks. my prayers have turned to thankfulness for my father, and comfort for grieving families.

if you’ll excuse me, i need some chocolate now.

no,YOU'RE sick all the time.

okay, i'm really, REALLY over it.
i cried mercy and headed to the doctor yesterday. asthma + cold + double pink eye + oh add in the nasty eczema on my finger that looks like i have leprosy.

yeah. over it.
armed with a pile of prescriptions i headed to a certain bullseye labeled retailer. it was 5:30, i was exhausted, my eyes felt like they were on fire. all i needed was some veggie crumbles for dinner and my three medications.
i walked back to the frozen foods area carrying elliot and a handbasket.

BOOM.
there i was, on the floor, looking up at a nice man who ran over to help me up.
i slipped in some sort of puddle on the floor and went down, baby in arms.

cue the rigamarole--walking me to the front of the store, sending in the manager. do you need anything? coffee? water? coffee?

uhh..just some paper towels for my wet butt. i landed in the puddle of ???? and soaked much of it up in my pants. it felt like i peed myself. (not that i would know what that feels like. gah)

it's weird, you know? they have this way of seeming concerned, but trying to brush it off at the same time. i was offered coffee or water and told how beautiful my daughter's eyes were. what i really needed was a clean pair of pants and my medicines.

i felt stupid. stupid, embarrassed, annoyed, shaken. all of those things. and you can't help it--as soon as something like this happens the $$$ signs are everywhere. my wrist hurt. but i didn't want to say it, because i didn't want to sound like i was "one of those people". it sounded fake--even to my ears. even though i could feel the pain.

no, i'm okay. i just...it's just sore. and red. no, i don't want to ice it.

okay, she said. well if you don't need medical attention then we don't really need to fill this out. it takes like 45 minutes. and if anything changes you can just come back tomorrow.
she smiled her big toothy julia roberts smile and batted her eyelashes at me. they're no fools...the manager they send over looks just like rachel mcadams.

and then she beat a hasty retreat, leaving me, my cup of ice water, and a stinky baby who quite literally had the poo scared out of her when we fell. i had to walk all the way back across to the food section in my wet jeans. i grabbed my stuff and left.

i called my husband when i got outside. by that point i think the adrenaline was really sinking in, i felt shakey and upset and just wanted to go home. i think i'm okay i said.

except, today, i'm not. i'm not dying--not by a long shot. i don't need to go to the hospital or even the doctor. but i've got bruises popping up all over my legs and feet. my neck and back and hips feel like i was beat up--like i was in a car accident (not that i would know what THAT feels like either. gah).

and, to add insult to injury--my fresh pedicure got mangled when i fell. :( the not even 24 hour old pedicure i got the night before. (when i half jokingly mentioned that the manager told me i could probably go back and they would fix it for me, if i just got it done. um, okay. and they also told me "don't worry, you can't tell your pants are wet. thank goodness for dark jeans, right?" uh, yeah. thanks. i guess)

so i'm just annoyed, i guess. annoyed and sore. i called back today. i kind of want to...i don't know. now that i'm not in the fog and haze of yesterday i'm annoyed by how i was treated. and the soreness and bruises are a reminder of that. so i guess i just feel the need to complain a bit. i'm not a "suer". i'm not going to go back with a neck brace and cane and raise trouble for a quick payday. but, i would appreciate an apology. i would like to go to the chiropractor for an adjustment on my back, neck and hips, and i don't think i should have to pay for that--even if it's only $20 or $30.

the fact is i fell, and i fell hard, and i hurt myself. and it's not a huge deal, but it's not nothing, either.

but i guess i've hit Level 2 Brush Off.

hi, i was in yesterday, and i fell and you told me to call back today if i needed to?
yes, if you required medical attention.
oh. ummm, well, i don't think i need to go to the hospital. but i think i would like to visit a chiropractor. my back and hips and neck are pretty sore.
oh. well, i'll talk to the person in charge of safety. hold on.
........
yeah, you can come in and fill out the paperwork and they'll send it to corporate and they'll investigate and determine responsibility and contact you.
oh, okay. thank you. ummm...where do i go?


this is the way it went.

well look who feels stupid again. me. maybe they'll determine it was my fault? after all, i was wearing flipflops, which the first associate to respond so kindly pointed out to me (oh, flipflops? they're no good). 
ugh.

sigh.
i don't want to start any debates over suing/liability/injury/litigation/whatever. i just know that it's ashame that because of the society we live in today the store's #1 priority is protecting themselves. and if they had said "oh no! we're SO sorry! here, have a pair of jeans to put on now so you don't have to wear wet ones home. and here, here's some nail polish to fix your nails" i'd be a happier girl today. you know--like what you would do for someone if they fell in your home.

instead i feel like i got this pat on the head of oh no are you okay? yes? okay GOODBYE! runnnn awaaay!!!


oh well. there's my vent for the day. on the plus side--my eyes don't feel like they're on fire anymore. so, there's that. ;)

a hitch in my giddyup

in the past two days i've had three doctors appointments: one cast change, one MRI, one very sick baby; very little uninterrupted sleep; and very little time to crochet.

so the project slated for today, well...IOU.

k?
but come back tomorrow for another guest poster!
and in the meantime be sure and check out bugaboo for more yarny goodness!

disconnected ramblings of an overtired mother

which, come to think of it, should probably just be my blog name.

but miss elliot has a cold, and spent the night with a fever and hacking cough. the only cure for hacking cough in a 9 month old?
sleeping upright on mommy’s chest on the couch, with milky on demand.

so yeah, a little tired here. and the only post i have close to finished is my friday random things. so now you get it on thursday instead.

ready?

o1) true story: my brother wants to re-do their bedroom. so he’s telling my sis-in-law about the dressers he saw on ikeahackers. how they took 3 malm dressers and put them together and added knobs. super cool.
yes, that is what they did, she agrees.

halfway through the convo she finally realizes what he’s not realizing…
”you do know where those dressers are, right?”

“no.”

“umm, your sister’s house. that’s the girls’ room.”

we’re so close, my bro and i.

o1a) oh yeah, and the girls’ room dressers were on ikea hackers. and i kinda didn’t realize what a big site that was when i submitted the dressers. until it got posted and i got about 4 gazillion hits on that post, propelling it to the most viewed post on googiemomma—by FAR.

o2) speaking of my sis-in-law…she won’t get on board the pinterest thing. i keep telling her. you know what she does? she favorites things i’ve pinned.

uh…hello, 2010 called. they want their TOTALLY INEFFICIENT WAY OF REMEMBERING ALL THE AWESOMENICITY YOU FIND ON THE INTERNETS back.

(and only fellow pinners can truly, truly see the humor in this.)

okay kate. time to get on board. i’ve just outed you.

o3) i can’t stop buying peeps. partly because i love them. but mainly because gigi calls them “beefs”. just mull that over for a minute.

dare ya not to laugh.

beefs.

o4) this i’m really super duper excited about: there were 188 entries for the sewvivor sewing competition. a lot of insanely awesome stuff. and only 10 competitors make it through into the actual competition.

guess what???

i made the cut!!! so starting in april there are 4 rounds of competition. each week has a “theme”, and you only get ONE DAY to vote. EEK! three contestants get knocked out each week, and the top three get INSANE prizes. mmmm…fabric…

so you’re all gonna vote for me, right? even if i totally choke and make something crazy bad? becauuusseee…

o4a) i maaay have overextended myself just a teensy weensy bit. i’m doing sewvivor, i’m doing a cool series here probably at the end of this month, and i’ve agreed to 2 other upcoming guest posts. and when i feel overwhelmed…well, the brain. she shuts down.

i’m giving ‘er all she’s got cap’in! she’s got no more ta give!

i’m totally, completely 100% uninspired and scatterbrained. i’ve been pinning things left and right on a new board titled, oddly enough, “inspiration” but then i get all distracted pinning pithy sayings and insane recipes and before i know it i’ve totally forgotten what i was doing.

but then again…that might just be how everyone ‘does’ pinterest.

o5) found a new fabric store yesterday. actually, i really just finally got around to going to a fabric store i’ve heard about a million times before but never went to. it’s so much easier to just head to joann’s when i need something. actually…i think my car may just automatically head there whenever i get in.

but there i’d be wandering the aisles thinking to myself “there has GOT to be something better.” and by better, i of course mean “cheaper”. because even with those 40% off coupons things still get pricey.

i think it was so much fun it warrants it’s own post. so i’ll have to go back and sneak some stealthy oh i’m just holding my phone like this to see it better pictures for ya.

 

okay, that’s it. five seems like she’s ready for a nap…and imma let her do that.

googiemomma out.

i’m just a singer in a rock ‘n roll band

today is the first day in five days that i’ve put on real clothes.
real clothes being: a t-shirt, jeans, slippers and bra.

we here at the googiehaus are at the tail end of Puke Fest ‘12-- an event of such unsurpassed enormity that it will for all time go down in the annals of history.
all five of my children succumbed to the siren song of the stomach flu, providing virtually no end to the fun times (and cleaning) of the last five days.

if you are of a delicate constitution i suggest you just close your browser down right now. better yet, click over to some cute kitty pictures or rainbowsandpuppies.com (which i just made up so i don’t know if it exists but probably it does but don’t blame me if you actually go there and it doesn’t contain either rainbows OR puppies ifyaknowwhatimsayin).
come back tomorrow when things are back to the normal crafty/sewing thing and not quite so…body-fluidy.

little man came down with it first: friday night at bedtime punctuated by his whines of “my bellllllly hurts.” we were a touch surprised—seeing as how his typical m.o. is sunday night belly pains—you know--the infamous Sunday Night Sickness.
but the second time he came out his lips were noticeably grayer, and he was sent back to bed with The Bucket.
when the puking began i went into cleaning overdrive. i donned disposable latex gloves and followed The Boy to the bathroom—alternating soothing whispers and back rubs with spritzes of lysol.

we have FIVE children. i knew the havoc one stomach flu could reek, and i was determined to outwit it. i even dug out chux pads we were sent home with from the hospital after five’s birth. i layered them—over his pillow, the bathroom floor. thank you, nurses.

by sunday morning i optimistically thought i had won the battle. there had been no episodes since saturday morning, and if the boy wasn’t exactly 100%, he was undeniably better.

naivety, thy name is shannon.

the two older girls started within minutes of each other on sunday night. i sat across from guinevere at the table and literally watched her lips lose their color.
three kids sick with stomach bugs triggered something in my brain. a protective cleaning mechanism that made me start scrubbing and sanitizing. the “sanitize” setting on our washing machine has never been used so much.
so when ava only made it as far as the dining room before losing her cookies (and no, it wasn’t cookies—it was beef stew and how’s THAT for a mental image?) i couldn’t even hear the googiedaddy yelling for me over the sound of my vacuuming.
it was one of those times where you stand there and think i truly, truly don’t even know where to begin. i grabbed some rags and waded in, repeating my mantra over and over: this isn’t puke, someone spilled soup. this isn’t puke, someone spilled soup.

by monday morning it was a very, very quiet house. blobs of children draped lifelessly on the towel and sheet-covered sofa. i hoped for the best—maybe this was it. maybe the two little girls would be spared.

maybe the bucket of bleach water i had at the ready was actually helping.

maybe i’m a dreamer.

when gigi finally got sick i wasn’t surprised. what did surprise me was that my overdramatic three year old, who screams for virtually every bump and scrap she gets, was totally an awesome puker. sat in front of the tv with her bowl, perfect aim every time, not a tear.

there’s a silver lining for ya.

and when elliot started turning the most interesting shade of green on monday night all we could do was sigh and pull out some more towels.

i’ll hand it to him: jeremy tried hard to take the brunt of elliot’s sickness. he cradled her most of monday night while she squirmed and burped and gagged. but i told him early on—she’s saving it for me. fact.

when it finally came it was just as i suspected it would be: she was laying on top of me in bed. the towel we had so carefully kept at the ready nowhere to be found. she simply lifted her head, looked me in the eyes, and released.

there’s no way of sparing you the gory details. i will tell you this: it splashed. i had to shower. when i did, it was everywhere from between and under my boobs to the back of my neck, my hair and my back. i had to strip my entire bed—pillows and all.
i wasn’t covered in puke—i was AWASH IN VOMITUS.

which, it occurred to me as i scrubbed my hair during my impromptu midnight shower, would be an awesome name for a rock band.

probably a grunge band (giggle giggle snort).

so i think we’re done. googiedaddy and i have been queasy and shaky since the start of it all. but how much of that is due to us getting sick vs. just the fact that we’re cleaning up OTHER PEOPLE’S PUKE ten times a day is hard to differentiate.

this afternoon i brushed my teeth, flattened my hair, and dressed myself. i’m hopeful that these clothes will remain untarnished—and not be more in a long line of disgusting jammies i peel off myself and toss right into the washer without thinking about exactly why the hems of my pants are so wet.

in the meantime, while i’m in this state of wary watchful optimism, i’ll get to work on my first CD.
working title: Scrubbing the Porcelain Throne.

and i wasn't even chasing waterfalls.

i might just go with it.
you know, call myself "left eye"...throw a smudge of whatever that inky stuff football players use under it.

of course, with freakishly dilated pupils like these...



i may not need the addition of wacky makeup.

here's the thing--in the words of my friend, we're just going to write off 2011. i got my baby ell out of it, but beyond that, it's kinda been a lousy year. i'm actually tired of telling people about my health problems. i never thought i'd be that person.

so i figure maybe if i say it real real fast it's better somehow?
okay, ready--read this like that micromachines guy used to talk on the commercial:

you can't see it in this picture, but just on the edge of the black part of my eye is a small white dot thingy.
apparently sometimes when you're sitting on the couch nursing your baby and your 2 year old gets excited about the paper that came in the mail that has sesame street characters on it and waves it at you and hits your eyeball, then you can get a corneal abrasion, which is essentially a paper cut on your eyeball and while gross and annoying, you've had one before and really it isn't a huge deal, until the next day when it REALLY HURTS so you go to the eye doctor and she kind of scoffs at you all "it's not very big. i don't know why you're in so much pain. i guess everyone's pain tolerance is different" and you're all "uh, i've given birth naturally four and a half times i'm no pain wimp and i'll cut you girlfriend and then we'll see who's in pain" and then by the next morning when you can't even open your eye because the sun feels like it's shooting flaming arrows directly into your brain and you're nursing your baby and whimpering a little and you're thinking you may need to go to the ER, but the other eye doctor tells you to just come in first thing so you do (holding your hands over your eyes the entire way there like an unsparkly vampire lady because DEAR LORD THE SUN. IT BURNS.) and he all nonchalantly tells your abrasion has become infected and developed a corneal ulcer, which has been described as the equivalent of an abcess or open sore in your eye.
and then you kind of throw up in your mouth a little because, well, that's just gross.

awesome, right?

gigi's little fancy hand manuever with the paper has cost us $140 in doctor's visits co-pays, $100 in prescriptions, and--had it been about 1/8 of an inch to the left--almost cost me my sight.

my 4x a day routine

the ulcer (gag) seems to finally be healing. but because it's healing it's creating a scar. i have a blurry spot on the edge of my vision. the doctor has me on steroid drops to try and control and minimize scarring and prevent permanent vision loss.

i think i'm just going to have super STRONG VISION.

then i really will need my awesome cyclops glasses permanently.

seriously not how i wanted to debut my new hair cut.

this is why road trips are only fun when you're young. and stupid. and childless.

waiting for something?

like some posts about my "picnic" themed dresses promised to begin today?

uh, yeah. about that...

we took advantage of the long weekend to make a (long overdue) trip out to visit family. yesterday's drive home, while a fairly long one, was begun in time to get us home before dinner, tucked like bugs in our beds before resuming school and work again today.

instead we pulled into the driveway at 1:30 am, about 15 hours after we began what was supposed to be a 7 hour drive.

now, i can't lie. we did stop and do some shopping. but that was in the blissful beginning part of the trip--well before the torrential downpours, horrendous traffic, and major accidents that turned the turnpike into a parking lot and we sat in one spot for over 3 hours.

that was before i knew i'd be jogging across and along the side of the highway, looking for a spot to hop the fence and get over to the wendy's before i peed my pants right there in full view of the truckers and vacationers also sitting in their cars.

and the spot i finally chose? well, i got caught in the wire fence.

couldn't move.

so i stood there debating my options--none of which were pretty as i'm sure you can well imagine. the googiedaddy could hardly leave a car full of kiddos parked in the left hand lane of the pennsylvania turnpike to come rescue his stranded wife.

and there wasn't a whole lot of people offering to run to the aid of the crazy lady straddling the fence (is that a wet spot i see on her butt? lock the doors dear. she has a wild look in her eyes.)

really, i should have gone with my first idea--which was to knock on the door of the motor home parked next to us and throw myself at their mercy.

 i ended up tearing my pants to free myself.

desperation is a funny thing. desperation, and the feeling that your bladder is about to burst in a big gooey explosion.

this was also before i held my two-year old on the side of the road as the "mommy potty" because she'd already peed her pants once and i had no more blankets to sop up her car seat with (and i'd learned my lesson once about trying to hop the fence, so its the roadside for everyone under 30).

or held a different blanket up as a guard for another daughter to relieve herself right there between mile markers 100 and 100.2 (you may not want to walk there).

or just gave up completely and laughed hysterically when little man just stood in the open van door and let fly.

the boy got some serious distance.

(seriously, you really don't want to walk there. the googie family left their...uhh..mark.)

it was not our proudest moment.

this was also well before gigi completely lost it and went crazy bonkers, screaming for the last two hours of the trip that her arm was going "over dere" and her seatbelt was TOOO TIIIIGHT.

i really don't know what that first thing means. but it was clearly quite traumatic.

it was rough.

so i'll just get back to you tomorrow on that whole "picnic" thang, k?

in the meantime, in case you missed it~~here's the post that was up over at bugaboo, mr, mini & me last week! it's kind of the intro to this...

.............................................................................................

summer is ending, and i’ll certainly miss the fine picnic weather.

okay, who am i kidding. i hate heat. i hate summer. i hate bugs.

but really, who doesn’t love a picnic?? (besides mom…who has to pack it and haul it and clean up after it…grumble grumble) it certainly looks like we have the makings of a fine one here…

watermelon, lemonade, cherries, cupcakes!

you know what they say though…

--life imitates art!

 

or is that art imitates life?

either way…

it seems our “picnic” has sprung to life! 

a picnic blanket…

with a square neck and peter pan collar? that’s a first.

but all picnic blankets have something in common…

the ants go marching one by one!

hey wait! one of those ants is not like the others!

well, you know what i say: if life is a bowl of cherries…

make a dress to match!

you know, preferably a bubble dress with an asymetrical collar.

thirsty? how about some lemonade—or rather, lemon-mod!

keyholes running down the front, coordinating ruched headband…

 

bow in the back…

 

and big dark sunglasses are a must! jackie o would approve, don’t you think?

and no picnic is complete without the ultimate picnic food…

but one of these watermelons is not like the other!

plump and juicy—you may get splashed if you squeeze it too hard!

and the other one grows in gardens ;o)

yuck yuck snort…i’m so funny.

pintucks in the front, and matching sunhat and diaper cover for miss melon here.

unfortunately, it seems we picked a rather sour melon…

oh well. it’s all good, because we have cupcakes for dessert!

 

one zipper tie—his cupcakey finest!

how many cupcakes do you think i had to bribe him with to make him wear a cupcake tie? ;o)

i’ll be sharing more photos and details of the projects i’ve done here in the next few days.
now i just have to find someone to help me clean up this mess…

guys?…guys????