Day 1....finally

Since I haven't had all too many periods considering I've been nursing for 9 months and pregnant for the 9 months before that and pregnant again before that and completely non-functioning prior to my surgery which finally got my lady parts in working order, I don't exactly know what to expect from a "monthly" cycle.

All I do know is that my cycles were always 29 days long following my ovarian drilling. (They were endless before the surgery).  I would ovulate on Day 16 or 17 every time.  And we only had 4 monitored cycles after surgery, but they were very consistent.

So I was feeling rather dismal about the possibility that maybe, just maybe, my body would finally give me a break and just do what nature says it should do.  I had my 1st period after weaning Paisley last month and expected the next 4 weeks later.  Well, 29 days later actually.

But 29 days came and went.  I thought I should give it more time.  32 days showed up and I decided maybe I should take a pregnancy test just to be sure.  Even though I knew immediately the 1st two pregnancies before I even tested.  There was just this unusual feeling my body had that told me without a doubt that I was pregnant.  And of course, the test was negative.  Just as I expected.  By day 35, I was throwing in the towel.  Sign me up for a hysterectomy because my uterus is just annoying me now.   No reason to keep around a broken-down body part that's just taking up space and blood flow.

Except on Day 39, while meeting with our accountant to make sure we aren't going to owe a million dollars in taxes since buying Aaron's vet clinic (we may be selling our organs soon), I started my period again.  Nope, it wasn't good timing considering we were in a meeting.  And of course it means I'm not pregnant.  But the good thing is I started on my own.   Better late than never, right?

The Black Sheep

My Grandpa's funeral was yesterday morning and for the most part, it was peaceful.  I have 15 cousins so it is a LARGE family with lots of people who dearly miss this man.  He had 5 children (1 is deceased), 15 grandkids, and 16 great-grandkids.   Not to mention his wife of 55 years (my Grandma).

My half-brother gave the speech at the funeral and did an amazing job describing my Grandpa and how wonderful he was.   He is serving in the Marines so he looked great in his dress blues and we were so proud of him.  

We all went to their house afterwards which was difficult of course, but my Grandma enjoyed everyone being around so much that she requested we do another cookout today out there.  So we are.  Even though the house seems empty without him there.

The only true black cloud surrounding yesterday was my "father".  I put it in quotations because I never call him that.  I call him by his first name, which I don't want to put on my blog.  So let's call him "Black Sheep" since that is his role in my family. 

We've always had a rocky relationship.  My mom divorced him when I was less than 1, so I wasn't raised by him at all.  He gave up visitation with me and never paid a dime of child support.  My mom kept a close relationship with his parents and siblings, however, so I saw them all the time.  In fact, she hasn't ever missed a holiday or birthday at their house.  And my grandparents have always considered her one of their kids.  Wonderful situation and I'm grateful to my mom for being such a great person.

Anyways, he has been on and off with the family forever.  Sometimes he shows up and acts decent, other times he's been ran off for acting out of control.  The police have even been called.   It's always best when he just fails to show up at all.  He hadn't met Paisley until the night Grandpa went into the hospital and if we could have avoided it, we would have.

When I was young, I used to feel hopeful when he'd call me and want to get together.  But time and time again, he let me down.  And eventually, I stopped caring and shut him out of my life.  Several months ago, my Grandpa shut him out too.  He just couldn't take anymore and banned him from their house.  We had several conversations about it and I agreed with the decision entirely.

Well, "Black Sheep" and his wife were there yesterday.  She kept urging me to talk to him because he needed me to comfort him.  And I just didn't care.  I lost a man who I respected greatly.  And I know he loved me too.  But I also know how much "Black Sheep" hurt him.  And that just makes me angry.  Angrier than any other time he's disappointed me. 

So, I'm feeling a bit confused right now.  Most of me says that he's a person who has only made bad decisions in life and I don't owe him anything.  He chose substance abuse and anger problems over his family and that won't ever change.  Then there's that teeny-tiny part of me that tries to hang on to a shred of hope and wants me to be the bigger person.  But I think this loss just permanently closed that miniscule part of my heart that was left for him to hurt.

My Grandpa

My grandpa is in the ICU following a fall yesterday which resulted in a large subdural hematoma.  It is inoperable due to his age (80) and the size of the bleed.  The neurosurgeon didn't give us any hope since so much damage has already been done.

This is a man who had his first heart attack at the age of 41 (so 49 years ago).  He has had multiple heart bypass surgeries, coded several times in the hospital, and defied strict dietary orders by eating his nightly bowl of ice cream before bed.  With chocolate sauce.

He has a wonderful belly laugh, ornery smile, and hugs you like he hasn't seen you in ages.  He loves raising chickens of various types and his dogs which are great pyrenees.  He and Grandma still spend late nights at the local casino (playing blackjack, but mostly making friends), love to shop at Sam's, and he still works with my uncle part-time. 

I need some prayers and kind comments.  Maybe a funny story or two.  Because this is one of my very favorite people to have ever walked this earth.  And this may literally tear my large, dysfunctional family apart. 

Grandpa with Paisley on Thanksgiving

Stupid Computer

I just typed a really nice, long post which I was quite proud of.  Seemed to have the perfect mix of seriousness and humor.  And it actually had a point to it.  Which is unusual for this blog that consists of mostly nonsense and boring jibberish. 

But then just as I clicked proudly on PUBLISH POST, thinking how proud my blog followers would be that I had taken the time to write something of interest, something terrible happened and the internet destroyed the post. 

I had a moment of genius, however, and thought that I could go back into the edit posts section and then repost it.  Blogger always automatically saves what you're writing so frequently that surely it would be there.  And it was there in the edit department, except that apparently it only saved the first TWO lines.  Of a long post.

Which means either I was typing crazy fast (and I do type pretty well thanks to a great 8th grade keyboarding teacher.  I only took the class because I thought it meant learning to play the keyboard which seemed pretty cool, but I probably got a better long-term outcome from learning to type) OR blogger just screwed me over.  And I'm pretty sure it was the latter.  

So, I was too frustrated to try to re-type it all and really feel like the moment is over.   Let's just say you probably aren't missing out on too much and I'll try to blog during my next creative moment!

You've Got Personality

Paisley has recently started showing off more and more that she is her own person.   I feel like she did this from Day 1 when she refused to sleep in the bassinett like the other babies in the hospital.  And then again when she hated her swing.  And when she refused to ever take a bottle.  You get the point...

But now she's starting to become goofy.  And I love it!  She'll join in when we're laughing about something even though she doesn't understand the joke.   And she has the cutest fake laugh ever.   She loves to wave at everyone in a public place, even if they don't notice.  And if someone turns to walk away from her, she shrieks and starts "complaining" at them.   

She is super playful and as busy as ever.  This child loves to explore new places and is starting to play on her own for an hour at a time.  Which is awesome!  In fact, if I try to play with her, she'll often turn her back to me and move her toy to the other side.  Everything is on her terms.

Sleeping is still going well, and still not on any type of schedule which works for the unscheduled, spontaneous family we are.   She is eating everything and loves to feed herself, which she's been doing for a while now so she's really good at it.  Problem is she likes to shove all of her food in her tiny mouth all at once. 

The cats and dogs are by far her favorite friends in this world and she says "kitty cat" and "doggy" more than any of her other words.  And she says them with much more enthusiasm.   We're so close to walking it's ridiculous, and if she would just realize that she can do it- she would.  She stands really well without holding on and has taken some good steps without falling.  I actually love the mobility, so I'm excited about her walking.   Crawling made our lives more fun and made her happier, so bring on the walking!!!

Happy 4th of July!!!

Hard to believe that last 4th of July, I looked like that!  I'm obviously a whole lot lighter and more comfortable this year, although I admittedly felt prettier pregnant.  I loved the curves and how special my body was at that moment.  Even if it meant my bones ached and my lungs struggled to get a good breath.  I was growing a little life in there...

But this year is even better.  Today we took Paisley to White Water (our water park) which she LOVED!  And now we'll be going to her cousin Marley's birthday party tonight.  For those that don't remember, Marley is Kate's twin sister.  We gave Paisley the middle name Kate to remember her after she passed away from a heart condition as an infant.  So, this family is pretty special to us and we look forward to sharing Marley's birthday with her and remembering a very brave and beautiful little girl who has every right to be with us today too.

Marley's on the left and Kate is on the right

My Little Beach Bum

Well, it's official.  You can indeed travel with an infant.  And it IS still enjoyable!   I hated when I was pregnant and people would tell me that I better enjoy the trips I'd taken because I could never go anywhere again...  Packing wasn't actually even that bad.  I took my one suitcase that I always take, and it did weigh 49.5 pounds.  But we made it just fine.  Security is really nice about letting you carry on liquids for a baby, so that wasn't bad either.

 Paisley was once again a champ about the travel and never whined or cried at all.  It took us about 10 hours total to get to the airport, two flights, one layover, and the shuttle to the resort.  She napped several times, ate snacks and played with toys.  And if it were acceptable to let your child pull the hair of the person in the seat ahead of you on the plane, she'd have been thrilled!

 Our resort was really beautiful and had lots of trees and animals.  The beach was perfect and the water was gorgeous.  It rained 3 of the days we were there, but Paisley thinks rain is hilarious apparently.  We would even stay in the pool during the rain and she didn't mind at all.

There was plenty of stuff for her to eat at the restaurants and she even got to try lots of new things.  She loves refried beans, but her diapers have been no laughing matter since the trip!!!   We tried to let her sleep in the crib provided by the resort which amounted to a thin mattress from 1960 supported by a crib made from popsicle sticks.  I can't imagine why she didn't want to sleep in it...   So she slept in my mom's bed with her.  (She transitioned back into her crib just fine last night and is in there again now.)

She learned a really cheesy grin while we were there.  Turns out she thinks hispanics are the absolute best and wants to make them happy.  So she started waving more than ever, blows kisses and smiles from ear to ear when a stranger walks by.  What we noticed is that the natives there are very affectionate to kids.  They always say hi to the baby when they pass by.  "Hola baby".  Super sweet.  And they feel very comfortable with picking them up, caressing their face, and holding their hands.  All things that I attempt to avoid with people at Wal-Mart, but it's really sweet in Mexico. 

Paisley has really expanded her vocabulary recently and it now consists of 8 words: duck, doggy, kitty cat, yeah, hi, ball, mama, dada.   And she's started to dance.  It's not good at all.  But it's SO cute!  She bobs her head to absolutely no rhythm at all and tries to shake her little adorable body.

 We would go to a show at the resort every evening after dinner and Paisley would usually fall asleep during them.  Which was amazing considering they were as loud as a rock concert usually.  And she'd sleep right on through.  And once again I was thankful that Miss P can nap/sleep anywhere and through anything.  Her ability to be flexible is crucial for vacationing to work out.  :)

She's still just walking holding one of our hands but hasn't quite figured out that she can do it on her own.  Every now and then I'll catch her standing unassisted, but she hasn't learned what she's capable of yet.