burnt toast life

round four review

Maybe I just have a lot of significant dates in my life, but it’s oddly creepy how they keep aligning with current life events.

I woke up this morning to the sad reminder that today is the four year anniversary of the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting. I will always remember that date because it happened on the exact same day that Eric and I began our IVF journey at New Hope. I remember sitting in the waiting room watching the news coverage, feeling helpless and awful and terribly self-absorbed to be worrying so much about my own problems.

Of course, I didn’t remember that today was the anniversary, or that the embryo transfer was happening so close to that date. Yesterday I went in to work normal time, left the office around 10:45, had the procedure, laid flat on my back for one hour, got up, got dressed, and was back at my desk by 1:30. I made the joke to some friends that I was probably – but not definitely – the only person in the building using her lunch break to get pregnant. And then, yes, I joined my coworkers for after-work drinks because why the hell not. Did I partake in a glass of red wine? Maybe. (Yes).

So I’m PUPO. That’s always been one of my favorite acronyms. Dr. L said the embryo thawed perfectly and looked to be of really good quality, so that’s a relief. I’m staggering around from the soreness of the PIO injections…it’s been a few years, I forgot how much those buggers hurt! But it’s all worth it in the end of course. If I can restrain myself, I’m going to wait to test until Tuesday morning. I went back through my timeline to see when I got BFPs with the other 3, and it looks like one week post transfer. I can live with that.

Part of me is optimistic over the fact that so far I’m 3 for 3 on FETs, while another part is nagging that I can’t possibly have a 100% success rate and I’m due for a failure one of these times. At least I know I did everything I possibly could. I gave up gluten two weeks ago and stayed strong, even as the delicious appetizers at happy hour were being waved under my nose.

On the job front, some news: I got one! I actually had two offers, which was exhilarating and honestly a bit of an ego boost. I have never been a great advocate for myself and suck at negotiating, so having those two offers really helped boost my confidence and gave me the courage to ask for what I want. I am really excited about this new role (I start on 1/3) and hope they won’t be too pissed if I’m pregnant. All of the people I talked to seem really nice and accommodating, so I’m betting on they won’t mind too much.

Not too much else going on! I mean, new job and potential pregnancy, plus Christmas craziness is enough excitement for one month, I suppose. The kids are great, we went to see Santa last week and Molly was obsessed with him. She told him what she wants (an Elsa and Anna doll) which is thankfully the same thing she’s been asking for consistently for the past two months, and I have it on good authority that the exact dolls she asked for will land under our tree on Christmas Eve. Liam was terrified of Mr. Claus but I loved every minute of it. The crying Santa photos are always my favorite.

This was the Awesome Santa I mentioned before, where the spots sold out in 3 seconds and we got put on a wait list. I hate to admit it, but he was well worth the hype. The best Santa I’ve ever seen and great with the kids. I’m in love with our photos.

All right, I’ll be back in a week with a pee stick pic! Gross, right?

In the meantime, some Santa photos for those of you who don’t follow me on social media:

best of friends

best of friends

santa-036

santa-016

santa-031

santa-034

the good with the bad

This is a hard post to write, literally and figuratively.

So much has happened over the past few weeks that I feel exhausted just thinking about getting it all out of my brain and onto my blog. Big things – both good and bad – are going on right now, and the longer I wait, the more that happens. So I’m just going to dive right in and finally update this thing with the news of right now.

The first big (bad) thing that happened is that I lost my job. I know… it’s truly awful! You’ll remember that I’m working at my dream company, a place that I actively targeted for five years before finally breaching the seemingly impenetrable walls of the fortress.

This comes as no surprise, however. I started at Rodale as part of the e-commerce team, retail being a new endeavor that they were hoping to grow but which sadly had to be pared down and restructured for a multitude of reasons I won’t bore you with here. Long story short, almost my entire team got laid off (except for 3 survivors who now face the daunting task of doing the work of 12 people), so you know, nothing personal. I’ve never lost a job before so this whole experience has been very enlightening.

One nice thing is that the company gave us six week’s notice, and I am still employed until 12/30. Coming in to work the day after the big announcement was definitely awkward, but as days passed we all just got used to it. It’s not uncommon now to pass by a coworker’s screen and see a draft of her resume blatantly displayed, or overhear conversations about job interviews and LinkedIn connections. It’s all at once funny, sad, and weird.

Mostly I’ll miss the people I’ve been working with every day for the last two years. I always miss the people most of all! We have such a great group of ladies who are all so talented, and while I’d love to believe we’ll stay in touch, the reality is that it’s unlikely. It’s scenarios like this that force me to admit how useful social media can be.

Anyway, I’m remaining surprisingly upbeat despite this setback. Maybe it’s naiveté and maybe it’s just optimism, but something in me is convinced I won’t remain unemployed for long. I had one interview yesterday and have another Monday (for an internal role), and I have a couple other prospects I’m waiting to hear from. I truly believe something will work out for me.

As for the other thing… the baby thing… no, I’m not putting that on hold, even though I probably should. For one thing, I’m about to lose my infertility coverage (unless I get that internal gig) and for another, I’m not going to start planning my life around work. I like working, but I’m never going to be a ladder-climbing career gal, if you know what I mean. Motherhood comes first, work second. I have no idea how this will all play out and I learned long ago that my best-laid plans can all be dashed in an instant. So… it may be crazy… but the transfer is still happening this month.

Part of me is thinking it’s dumb to be posting this on a public personal blog. But again – whatever! If a potential employer somehow sees this and decides not to hire me based on my desire to have more children, then I’m glad to know that up front. Because my intention is to have more kids and there’s no company in existence that would change my mind on that.

I just started my daily Estradiol and my PIO shots are in the mail and should arrive today – yay. I’m picking up the cryo tank from my new fertility clinic Thursday night and heading into Manhattan (with a good friend chauffeuring) early Friday AM. One nice thing about being laid off is that things have become super lax as far as hours are concerned, and literally no one cares about me leaving early or coming in late (hours before were super flexible – now it’s a total free-for-all). I’m very nervous about this whole ‘picking up the embryos’ thing going smoothly. The new clinic required 12 pages of legalese signed, initialed, and witnessed just for me to think about bringing the embryos in the door. Checking them out from NYC only requires a one page form, but it does need to be notorized (to-do list addition: find a notary). I’ve been going nuts trying to coordinate and plan all the bits and pieces of this event, from forms to weekly monitoring appointments and everything in between. I will definitely feel a lot more relaxed on Friday afternoon when embryos are safely where they need to be at the new clinic. I’ll feel even more relaxed mid-month when one of those embryos is all the way where it needs to be – a.k.a., my uterus.

What else? Oh no big deal, it’s December and I haven’t started Christmas shopping, plus did I mention I’m unemployed? We have something going on every night this week, I’m supposed to be relaxing and mentally preparing for this embryo transfer, ALSO I’m frantically job hunting, and we need to put up and decorate the tree, and take Christmas photos, and mail out cards, and continue with the little details of daily life… ahhh! It’s enough to drive any sane person absolutely bananas.

And as if that wasn’t enough, we had a birthday brunch for Liam last Sunday on the day of his first birthday (which I had to plan, shop for, cook for, and clean for). Yes, my son is ONE! What! The party was just for immediate family, but even then the guest list included 15 adults and 13 children who all crammed into my tiny house. It was crowded, noisy, and lovely, and Liam definitely enjoyed himself and smashed his cake in his own good time (5 minutes after everyone stopped taking videos and wandered out of the kitchen).

He’s been getting much better at walking and can do the mummy-esque shuffle across the length of a room. He falls a lot, but gets right back up, and you should see how proud he is of himself. I can’t believe how big he’s getting. I can’t believe how much I’ve forgotten to write down. Oh, the poor, neglected second child.

That’s really it for now. If you could all say a few prayers for me I would truly appreciate it – that the embryo moving day goes smoothly, that the embryo transfer works (looking like right around 12/13 or 12/14, and hopefully I’ll post again before then but with my track record I’m not making any promises), that I find a job, that I find space to relax and breathe, and that I don’t lose my ever-loving mind in the meantime. Thanks, friends.

Here are some party pics of my big man:

he kept the hat on for approx 4 seconds

he kept the hat on for approx 4 seconds

he knows how old he is

he knows how old he is

yay - cake!

yay – cake!

cake = smashed

cake = smashed

need a ride?

need a ride?

the 12 best blog posts I ever read

Over the years I’ve been mentally cataloging the best blog posts on the interwebs. When I need a good laugh or a good cry, these are the posts I return to again and again. They’re the ones I email around to coworkers on boring Monday afternoons so we can all take a break from the monotony. They’re the links I share on Facebook on those rare occasions I bother posting anything to Facebook. These are the posts that make me want to be a better writer and a more frequent blogger.

I want to share them with you because you’re here, reading this blog, which proves you have excellent taste (insert laughing crying emoji here). This is also a fervent plea for more posts to add to the list – what am I missing? What should I be reading? I’ve been slowly building up my list over the years, but I know I must be be missing plenty of great content. If there’s a post or a blogger who you love beyond words, please, share the wealth!

Here are a few of my favorite posts of all time:

FOR LAUGHING

1) For if you’ve ever bought something from craigslist, or if you just enjoy overly dramatic storytelling:
The KINGDOM mirror– proving that you NEVER KNOW what is on the other end of a Craigslist ad. – Victoria Elizabeth Barnes

2) For if your husband thinks you’re nuts but your friends think you’re hilarious, and if you shop the clearance section at HomeGoods:
And that’s why you should learn to pick your battles – The Blogess

3) For if you’ve ever considered buying something from a super sketchy foreign website:
This is What Happens When You Order Ridiculously Cheap Clothing From Singapore – Suburban Turmoil

4) For if you read and silently judge children’s books:
All of my Issues with the “Goodnight Moon” Bedroom – The Ugly Volvo

5) For if you consider fart jokes even remotely funny (which I don’t really, but this is an exception):
The Fart That (Almost) Altered My Destiny – HaHas for HooHas

6) For if you’ve ever complained that life is hard after the year 1900:
Pioneer Moms Vs. Modern Moms – Victoria Fedden

FOR CRYING

7) For explaining infertility to someone who wants to understand but doesn’t understand:
Letter to New Moms – something beautiful

8) For exhausted new moms, especially those with difficult babies:
When Love Feels Heavy – N’tima Preusser (Coffee + Crumbs)

9) For every mother who has ever loved so hard it made them cry:
Sometimes I Cry – Motherhood and More

FOR COMMISERATING

10) For moms with young-ish kids who have totally become that microwave-your-coffee-three-times-and-keep-forgetting-about-it cliche and want to feel better about this season of life:
This stage of life? It’s hard – Austin City Moms Blog

11) For the default parents – yes, if you’re reading this, that’s probably you:
The Default Parent – M. Blazoned

12) For when it’s super hard to make mom friends and you just wanna get to 4th base already:
Dating for Moms – Unexpected

three on the move

Hi there.

I’ve been a mess lately trying to work out the logistics of a big situation. It’s still not completely figured out but we’re getting there. I’ve been waiting to share until I was sure it would work out, and even though I’m still not 100% positive, I am fairly confident now that it will happen. Very soon.

I’ve mentioned many times now that no embryos are getting left behind and that we are planning to implant all three of the remaining little frosties at some point. Well…the time has come.

There are several time-related and financial reasons for the rush. First, don’t laugh, but I’m feeling old. As of four days ago I’m 32 and a half which of course is not old, but is kind of old when you’re facing the prospect of three more pregnancies. (Or two more… that’s a whole other issue). Especially considering that every one of those deliveries will be a scheduled c-section, which will be harder and harder to recover from as I get older.

Financially, the time had to be now because of boring insurance reasons. Thanks in large part to Eric’s multiple ER visits in April, we managed to meet our gigantic deductible for 2016. I know, who would have thought? Because we accomplished this feat, all future medical visits and procedures for this year are covered at 90%, and now that we have coverage for ART despite it not being state-mandated (HALLELUJAH), the embryo transfer has become – dare I say – affordable.

Of course, as of January 1st our enchanted carriage turns back into a pumpkin and we’ll need to meet that big scary deductible all over again before we can enjoy that awesome 90/10 coverage. So even though mentally I’d feel better about doing the transfer in 6 months, truly, what’s the difference? December, June, who cares? Going from two kids to three kids is going to be a giant change no matter what. If we wait until we’re truly ready we’ll never do it. At this moment, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, and I’d much rather take advantage of all the money I’ve paid into insurance so far this year.

We had our consult last week with the new/old RE. She’s the one who originally diagnosed our infertility issues in 2011. We went to her for all our initial testing and then promptly did nothing about our crappy diagnosis because we didn’t have the money or the coverage. It was pretty funny giving her updates on our situation at our most recent appointment. Five years later things couldn’t be more different.

Considering the fact that New Hope is two hours away, it was an easy decision to leave them. Also, they are not an in-network provider with our insurance, so meeting our deductible for the year would mean diddly squat in terms of out-of-pocket expense. Interestingly, and I believe I’ve mentioned this in a prior post, doing the transfer at New Hope is about half the price as doing it at the local clinic. Yes, bizarre! But yes, I also don’t care, because again I’m only paying 10%. So whatever.

As Dr. L was going over my history she had some matter-of-fact observations, as I knew she would. First she asked that I manage my expectations. “There is very little chance of you bringing home three babies from these remaining three embryos,” she cautioned. She reiterated what I already knew – that these were the worst quality of the bunch. Of course I realized their likelihood of sticking was much less than the first five we tried. She was also alarmed by my history of repeat pregnancy loss and asked if I’d be able to handle another miscarriage. “I’ll handle it. I’ve handled it,” I said, but her words really got me thinking.

I’ve not yet experienced a miscarriage since having my babies and I wonder what the difference would be (if any). I know I would be incredibly sad regardless, but I do think it would be a different kind of sad. When I lost the twins and the next pregnancy I was mourning their loss, obviously, but beyond that I was mourning the potential of never getting to be a mother. I had no consolation in the form of living children because I had no living children. Now, I won’t be mourning both things, because no matter what happens I am a mom and no future miscarriage will change that. It makes the prospect significantly less scary. I hope I’m not making is sound like miscarriage would be totally fine and easy. I would still be an absolute wreck; I know I would. But I also feel like these past three years have given me so much perspective and I do think I’d handle it better. Even though I think I handled it pretty damn well the first two times around, considering.

Sorry, tangent. Back to the topic at hand. We went in for our little discussion, yada yada, and Dr. L wasn’t even that surprised when I mentioned the whole ‘let’s get this in by the end of the year, insurance, deductible, etc.’ song and dance. Apparently we’re not the only ones trying to get the most bang for our buck from insurance companies. I had a quick U/S on the spot to check my ute and c-section scar (man, was it weird to be back in that chair again) and was sent off with instructions to come back in a week for a lining check. The plan is to go forward with my next cycle – the last possible one of the year – which would make the transfer date sometime in mid-December. Cue the cautiously enthusiastic music here.

The next big hurdle lies in transporting the embryos from Manhattan to Pennsylvania. I have three frustrating options for this:

Option 1 – Rent a tank from the PA clinic. Pick up the tank in PA, drive to NYC, drive back to PA, drop off embryos + return tank. Tank rental cost: $300 + $1,000 credit card hold that would be refunded with the tanks safe return (are people seriously stealing these things?)
Option 2 – Rent a tank from the NYC clinic. Drive to NYC, pick up the tank & embryos, drive to PA, drop off embryos. Drive back to NYC within 1 day to return the tank. Drive back to PA. Tank rental cost: $100
Option 3 – Pay to have them safely and securely shipped. Shipping cost: $750

Ok, that last one is obviously off the table. I’d be a nervous wreck the whole time and the cost is insane.

Do you see my dilemma, though? Eric said I need to weigh the cost of making the trip back and forth four times vs. paying triple the price for the tank rental – for example, with Option 2 I’d be paying for gas, paying for parking, and paying to go through the Lincoln Tunnel multiple times which was like $12 last time I did it. It’s a big pain in the butt. But $100 vs. $300 rental fee? Come on…

I also need to figure out if I’m driving myself or taking the bus. I know it sounds completely effing insane to be riding a public bus with my embryos in a cooler tank but truly, isn’t the situation just as bizarre no matter how I do it? The alternative is, what, strapping the cooler (and yes I am literally picturing a Coleman camping cooler right now) into Molly’s carseat and driving down the highway? Either way… it’s weird. Totally weird.

The bus sounds pleasant because 1) I wouldn’t have to drive and 2) I wouldn’t have to park. Also, have you ever driven in Manhattan? It’s terrible. I’d much rather zone out with a book, Coleman cooler + embryos safe by my side on a comfortable luxury bus than white knuckle my minivan through midtown traffic and pray a cabbie doesn’t hit me.

So that’s where I am right now – trying to figure out how to get those little embryos from point A to point B. Once they are back in PA I’ll be much happier because the cost of storage will drop from $100/month to $60/month, and then once they’re moved to long-term storage that will further reduce to $40/month. No more paying exorbitant Manhattan rent, hooray!

As we cautiously approach a December FET, we’re managing expectations (haha, not really) and hoping for miracles. If all goes to plan, I’ll be able to test the week of Christmas.

What an amazing gift a double line would be to end this crazy year.

little red riding hood & the princess paradise bear

I like to think of myself as a semi-savvy shopper.

And while I don’t do any extreme couponing (because I have neither the time nor the storage space for 700 free tubes of toothpaste), I do participate in my fair share of discount shopping. Some things I don’t mind paying full price for. Some things I am vehemently opposed to paying full price for.

Example: Halloween costumes. Those chintzy polyester outfits that children wear for approximately 2 hours for one day of the year. I hate the exorbitant expense of Halloween costumes, especially since most of them are terrible quality and have a ridiculously high markup because, of course, parents neeeeed them.

I’m happy that Molly doesn’t fully grasp the concept of Halloween yet, and that I was still able to choose her costume for her (next year, I imagine I won’t be so lucky). A coworker actually came up with the idea for this year’s theme. She told me about a cute costume duo she saw for sale on one of those Facebook online yard sale sites: little red riding hood and the big bad wolf. I said, “Yes! Yes! I want them!” but of course they had already sold.

Even though I missed out on that deal, I still forged on with the LRRH/BBW theme in mind. Determined not to pay full price, I turned to my favorite of all discount sites… eBay! I found plenty of reasonably priced LRRH outfits but they were all made from that shiny, cheapo polyester, and many were missing vital components (like…THE RED HOOD). I scrolled and scrolled until I hit the jackpot – a handmade, beautiful costume with the dress, bloomers, hood, and a coordinating little basket, all for $14.99 (+$6.80 shipping). UM, HOW ABOUT YES PLEASE? I literally sent the woman a thank you note for offering such a beautiful item. It was the score of all Halloween costume scores.

Next up – BBW, which was a little trickier. Those fuzzy, cuddly baby costumes don’t come cheap, even on eBay. Most were in the $40-$50 range, and as much as I loved and needed the costume, I couldn’t quite justify that price on something he’d wear for one stinkin’ night. Just as I was about to give up and order one of the expensive options, I noticed something interesting in the “People Who Viewed This Also Viewed” section. The description said “Princess Paradise Bear Costume Size 12/18 Months” BUT the photo was exactly the same as the other wolf costumes I was looking at. The best part? It was $4.88 (+ $6.45 shipping). I was so excited! I figured it was worth the $11 gamble to see if it really was named incorrectly. (And since I was shopping in September, uncharacteristically ahead of deadline, I had time to buy a new costume if it did turn out to be a princess bear).

The week it took to ship the costume was excruciating. I kept wondering… would it be a wolf? Would it be a bear? Would it be the exact thing I was looking for and somehow only cost $11? I knew it sounded too good to be true, but I still held out hope. When the package arrived, I ripped it open and… hallelujah! It was the wolf costume I wanted! (Further research uncovered that Princess Paradise is actually a brand name, but the whole “bear” part still confuses me because it’s clearly a wolf).

little red riding hood & the big bad wolf (a.k.a. princess paradise bear)

little red riding hood & the big bad wolf (a.k.a. princess paradise bear)

So all told, I got a handmade/non-chintzy little red riding hood costume and a cute furry big bad wolf costume for a combined total of $33.12 – less than some people spend on just ONE costume. I was feeling good.

But don’t think it’s all sunshine and roses over here, because my next eBay shopping experience didn’t go nearly so well.

Last year I found this awesomeness right here:

My husband is a Star Wars fan, and I am a let’s-coordinate-a-super-cute-family-photo-Christmas-card fan, so I figured we could combine our loves and get some matching Christmas jammies. WELL. Hanna Andersson makes high quality apparel and it is (justifiably) pricey. To order the organic cotton, Star Wars themed, matching Christmas pajama sets for my family (not including the dogs) would have cost $244. YIKES. Then we also would have needed to pay for a photo session, order cards, and pay to mail all the cards. So no, we didn’t do that.

This year I figured I’d keep up my winning eBay streak and search for those same Star Wars pajamas from last year. I thought that since it was a year ago, maybe I could find them for much cheaper. And I did! The first results that populated were those exact same pajama sets that I saw last year, same photos and everything, only this time ranging in price from $6.99 to $15.99. I happily purchased four pj sets for under $50.

Now, one important fact to mention: I did notice that they were shipping from China. But in my little eBay fantasy daydreams, I imagined that the factories who made the Hanna Andersson sets from last Christmas were simply unloading their excess inventory at a low, direct-to-consumer cost. Or that they had done some extra runs on the sly to sell for themselves. I used to work in the apparel industry but I’m still quite naive as to how it all works. Those two scenarios both sounded plausible. High on my Halloween costume success, I imagined receiving perfect organic cotton Christmas jammies with Hanna Andersson quality and China-low prices.

As I said, this story doesn’t have happy ending. The first two pajama sets arrived 3 weeks after I ordered them and they were terrible. The fabric was very low quality (basically the opposite of organic cotton). They smelled like chemicals. And worst of all, the sizes were completely off. The pants were narrow and tight while the shirts were comically short and wide. It reminded me of this amazingly hilarious post from a couple years ago about the perils of ordering cheap clothing from overseas.

I went back to the listing to check out the return policy and noticed that the vendor claimed to have shipped all four sets, yet I had only received two of the four. So not only did I need to figure out how to return the horrendous short & wide pjs, but I was also stuck disputing the shipping claim and hoping for a refund on the two missing sets. Oh, and while the seller does accept returns, the customer (ME) is stuck paying for the return shipping. To China.

The moral of this story is that you win some and you lose some. Your amazing, too-good-to-be-true eBay deal might be a crazy cheap and awesome mislabeled wolf costume, or it might be a crappy pair of wide & smelly pajamas.

Hope you all had a lovely Halloween, and happy discount shopping to all!

trick or treat night with the fam

trick or treat night with the fam

ALL THE CANDY!

ALL THE CANDY!

when it rains, it pours

Drama this week. Unfortunately.

Eric is on a business trip in Texas all week – he left Sunday and isn’t coming back until Friday. Which is suuuuuper annoying because I was counting on him to bring the kiddos in to work for our Trick or Treat extravaganza on Friday. Now that he works from home, I thought it would be so easy… but no. I work 40 minutes from my house and as you can imagine, no one in my family was jumping at the chance to schlep my kids over to my work at 4pm on a Friday afternoon. Actually, most of them were already busy with their own Halloween activities that day. So boo.

Funny story… my ex-boyfriend’s sister is a SAHM who coincidentally lives less than a mile from where I work. I am still friendly with her (I think she follows my blog maybe? Brittany? Hello?). Anyway, in desperation I messaged her and asked if there was any way she’d want to earn some extra cash watching two little munchkins for a few hours. I think my message said something like, one is super easy and helpful… the other can be a handful but he’s cute so you forgive him for it. Fully prepared for her to think I was a total weirdo, imagine my surprise when she wrote back that not only could she do it, but that people asked her to babysit all the time and she already had a pre-specified rate and backup help (her younger sister, now a teenager, who was literally 2 years old when I met her and that makes me feel hella old). So yay me, at least that mini conundrum was solved.

Sunday afternoon my cousin Kate had her confirmation. I was traveling solo with both kids since Eric had already left (Molly: “Daddy’s up in the air-o-plane! Up in the sky!”). Of course that was the day Liam decided to be a complete terror in church. I made it through about 15 minutes of mass before he started screaming bloody murder. I had to take him outside (not even to the vestibule, but outside outside, that’s how loud he was). I walked with him, I tried food, I tried a bottle, I even strapped him into the car and drove around the block hoping he’d fall asleep – nothing worked. He just screamed at me for the next hour and I have no idea why. We all went back to my aunt’s house afterwards for refreshments and he clung to me the entire time, melting into a puddle of tears every time I left the room. I mean, he’s definitely a mama’s boy, but never that bad…

I noticed when he was open-mouthed and screaming into my face that he has half a molar popped through… so maybe it’s teething? I’m hoping. Thankfully he went down for the night no problem and seemed happy enough in the morning.

But the hits just kept coming. Liam was back to his old self, but when I got Molly out of bed she started crying saying her leg hurt. At first I figured it had just fallen asleep, but every time she walked on it or put weight on it at all she’d scream and cry and say it hurt. Thirty minutes went by and her condition seemed no better. I gave her some Tylenol and tried tapping her leg all over and twisting it this way and that, to make sure it wasn’t seriously hurt. She seemed fine when she was sitting, even when I was messing with it, but when it came to walking she was completely miserable.

The only incident I can think of that might have spurred this was a minor trip and fall on the sidewalk outside my aunt’s house yesterday. She got back up and didn’t even cry, and just had a tiny black and blue mark and a scrape (plus ripped a hole in her tights, which I was not happy about). She’s not normally that dramatic over boo boos, and I could tell she was trying very hard to walk normally and wanted to walk normally, not that she was playing it up for attention or band-aids or whatever. But for now I’m taking the wait and see approach.

My sister says she hasn’t walked all day (refuses) and has her knee wrapped up in an ace bandage (it’s clear that the knee is the problem). If any of you have horror stories about toddlers complaining of knee pain and it turning out to be something really serious, please share them now. I’m probably overreacting but it’s just frustrating and sad and so not what I want to be dealing with on my week of solo parenting.

Oh and let’s not forget the dog! As if on cue, Ryder is once again battling his skin issues, and has been relegated to the cone of shame. I called the vet this morning and thankfully he agreed to prescribe the medication without an office visit, so that’s a small relief. Still didn’t take the sting out of the fact that the prescription costs over $100. That dog…

Guys, all I want to do is go home, have a glass of wine, and watch The Walking Dead (which people have come SO CLOSE to spoiling for me all day!) Instead, I’m going to a late work meeting, running out the door, picking up both kids (literally, because neither can walk at the moment), racing to the vet (so far away and closes at 6pm), getting home, letting the dogs out (not normally my job and I hate it), dragging in the recycling bin, throwing something together for dinner, assessing Molly’s knee situation, and then most likely collapsing into bed.

Is it Friday yet? The husband I love to complain about is actually more helpful than I realized.

new name, new look

Friends.

My blog got an overhaul.

It’s not finished yet, but it’s finished enough. I spent way too many hours yelling at WordPress and pleading with my husband to “fix it please” and cornering the web producer at work for her wisdom (she is the only reason the header fits properly). I still need to add things and change things but for now, I’m saying it’s good enough.

I really need a profile picture that doesn’t suck. That’s harder to come by then I would have imagined.

At first I thought I’d have someone build the site from the ground up, but as it turns out, that was way out of my budget. Instead I opted for the paid theme route, since of course the free themes aren’t quite as pretty. The logo I commissioned from Fiverr, a site I highly recommend. She gave me a really great start and then I had a graphic designer friend do some tweaking.

Truthfully, I didn’t need to change my name since it didn’t have anything to do with infertility. But I did it because I wanted a fresh new start in general. I’m still going to keep all those old posts, but I’m forging on as Burnt Toast Life. My new url is easier to remember: www.burnttoast.life. If you want to keep on using the old one, that’s cool, it will redirect to the right place.

So coming up I plan on submitting a few articles to some essay sites, but it’s kind of awkward because I can’t decide whether or not I should post those here. They include backstory that most of you already know, so it sounds strange – mini introductions of myself to people who have been following me for years. But at the same time, I’d like to be posting something here… I’ve been slacking lately on that front. So much to say, so much to catch up on.

I’ll figure it out.

Hope you’ll all stick around for this wonderful Burnt Toast Life of ours!

Also, because I haven’t shared in a while, here are some recent photos of those little people who live in my house.

waiting to catch candy at the Halloween Parade

waiting to catch candy at the Halloween Parade

img_1038

img_1131

Could they possibly be any cuter?

Could they possibly be any cuter?

FOMO sales & santas

I’ve been stressed out lately for really stupid reasons.

These are not real problems.

And yet I’m still stressed.

I know I’ve mentioned my extreme case of FOMO before. In case you didn’t know, FOMO is a real affliction that stands for “Fear of Missing Out.” This applies to so many facets of my life – it’s the reason Eric gets annoyed as I’m trying to rush everyone out the door to arrive at casual gatherings on time, because in the back of my head I’m always thinking, “…but what if we miss some of the fun?” FOMO is the reason I rarely say no to activities, even if I end up scheduling multiple things in one day. It’s the reason I get so bent out of shape when friends hang out together without me (those bitches).

Lately I’ve started to realize how much my FOMO affects me in other ways. Namely, discount shopping ways.

You see, I’ve always felt a little twinge of anxiety walking towards the entrance of Marshall’s. If I see someone walking slightly ahead of me, I’m always thinking, “What if she’s also a size 6.5 shoe and grabs the perfect leather booties on clearance before I can get to them? What if she is also coincidentally shopping for a gray and white striped storage cube and snatches up the last one?”

It’s ridiculous. Yet, this is how my mind works.

So you can imagine my distress when it comes to things like sample sales. We just had one at work and I was a bundle of nerves for the whole week leading up to it. It’s not even like I wanted anything specific – I didn’t even know what would be in the sale. But still, I was so nervous about it and kept re-confirming with my friend (thankfully, the sale organizer) that I would be helping her set up (in other words, getting a first look at All the Things). I panicked over how the setting up would play out… would I be able to set things aside as I was organizing them, or would that seem greedy? What if someone accidentally started going through the box of things I set aside? What if I missed out on the most perfect cheap thing ever? I kept getting angry at myself for freaking out over something so inconsequential, and yet I kept freaking out nonetheless. I tried to remind myself, 1) that I did not deserve or need the things more than any of my coworkers and 2) that there are people in this world with real, ACTUAL problems who were probably handling themselves with better composure than I was.

The sale happened last week and I got a huge box of stuff that I definitely did not deserve or need. With my items safely packed into the back of my van, speeding away from work, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. And felt stupid for ever being anxious in the first place.

And then Santa Claus came to town.

A little backstory on this one – ok, not much backstory, because there isn’t much backstory to give. About a week ago my sister mentioned Santa photos with a local photographer. Seems innocent enough, right? Except no, it’s not simple at all. You see, this particular photographer has the best Santa (who she creepily refers to as the REAL SANTA so many times that I’m convinced she actually believes it). Apparently there are 275 spots available for 10-minute, $50 sessions with Real Santa and last year they sold out in 7 minutes. This year they were predicting (and I think accomplished) a 30-second sellout. These Real Santa sessions were hot, hot, hot.

And yeah, he does look like a good Santa – real white beard, kindly face. My sister was sending me photos of last year’s Santa photos from the gallery and they were really cute. But the hype seemed a tad extreme… Facebook posts with numerous multi-paragraph explanations of how to secure your spot. Complicated instructions. A go-live time of 9 pm and imperative warning that the sellout would be SWIFT and BRUTAL. May the Wi-Fi gods and quick typing fingers be with you.

The way it would work was the link would go live at 9pm sharp, then 550 people would be able to register before the link disappeared forever. The first 275 of those registrants would get a guaranteed time slot with Magical Unicorn Real Santa while the remaining 275 semi-losers would be put on a waiting list. Spots would free up from illness/bad scheduling availability or from generous single-child households offering to share their ten minute time slots with other single-child households. No one on the wait list would know their order, or if they would have a chance at getting a session… they would all just have to wait it out.

A few things. First – I literally didn’t know about this hulabaloo until two days before it happened but suddenly, upon realizing the hype and seeing the (arguably convincing) REAL SANTA, I became very anxious about getting it for myself…I mean, my kids. And second – the Santa who came to my church last year for free and who was probably coming again this year was pretty good. I liked the pictures a lot.

But still. Real Santa. Magic Santa. Everybody-Wants-Him-So-He-Must-Be-Amazing-Santa.

FOMO Santa.

So I asked Eric if he had any “tricks” for quickly filling in forms and, to my surprise, he didn’t make fun of me for being so insistent over needing some stupid overpriced Santa pictures. He told me that he had it under control. At 8:58 I anxiously wrung my hands as he kept refreshing the registration link over and over again. Finally – at 9 sharp – the form appeared! He tried to right click to autofill the form and… nothing. Thrown off his game, he started typing as I hopped up and down behind him, yelling, “FASTER, FASTER!” and cursing myself for having the longest email address in the entire world. We were able to submit the form but had to wait several hours to see if we made the cut or got stuck on the wait list.

I was so anxious over this non-event that I actually woke up at 2am and saw the email – we were officially wait listed. Which is better than nothing but still… wait list? Dammit. My sister is apparently a faster typer because she got one of the coveted guaranteed spots.

And now that it’s over, I’m so much more relieved and honestly not that upset about it. Maybe I’ll get bumped off the waiting list and get to see real Santa and maybe I won’t. Either way I’ll get a cute photo of my kids sitting on some bearded man’s lap (screaming bloody murder I’m sure) and it will all turn out fine.

I repeat: THESE ARE NOT REAL PROBLEMS.

My next annoyingly stressful FOMO event is happening this Friday. There’s this huge rummage sale in a swanky town and I’ve been driving my two shopping addict friends nuts about it. I’m so anxious – for myself, but also for them because I invited them to go with me and promised lots of good stuff. We’ve been going over “the gameplan” on a daily basis and at this point we’re arriving two hours early to stand in line before it opens.

And after that, maybe my nerves will calm down again.

Until the next big sale, of course.

it could happen to you (yes, you)

September 10, 2016 was almost the worst day of my life.

Almost.

It started off innocently enough. Molly’s first dance class, a baby shower, some laundry, and some light cleaning. It was a lazy, warm, and sunny day.

At around 4 pm, Liam started getting fussy and I knew he was ready for his afternoon nap. Molly was also napping, and I was impatiently waiting for her to wake up so we could go to my in-law’s pool and swim (leaving a sleeping Liam at home with Eric). I made Liam a bottle, laid him in the boppy on the living room floor, and sat down right next to him. Then I got out my phone and started doing whatever one does on their phone. Instagram, Pinterest, email? Something like that.

I’m not sure how much time passed. It felt like 30 seconds but maybe it was more like 3 minutes. I had kind of gotten lost in iPhone land, idly reading articles or pinning recipes perhaps. After an unspecified amount of time, I suddenly heard a very strange sound.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

“What the hell are the dogs doing?” was my immediate thought. But then I looked next to me at the empty boppy and a sinking realization slowly set in. Liam. The basement. THE STEPS.

I’ve never run so fast in my life. I jumped up, chucked my stupid phone across the room and basically flew to the basement doorway. There, at the bottom of the steps, was my baby. My 9 and half month old baby boy, lying flat on his back on the concrete floor, wailing.

I did the thing you’re not supposed to do and thundered down the steps and picked him up without checking for a neck injury. How could I not pick him up, though? At some point Eric, who had also heard the noise and quickly figured out what it was, materialized next to me.

So, it turns out I’m not the person you’d want on hand in an emergency. I was panicked and close to hyperventilating, yelling nonsense, while Eric managed to keep a cool head and assess the damage, so to speak. Long story short… we got lucky. So, so, so, so lucky. In what could have been a fatal or incredibly damaging accident, Liam escaped with some nasty looking black and blue marks and a little bit of brush burn on his cheek. It’s only been two days and the bruises are practically gone.

Our basement steps are wood, not concrete, though the floor at the bottom is concrete and I’m sure that didn’t feel great. Also, the more I walk up and down the steps, the more I consider the very real possibility that he could have rolled either right or left rather than straight down, thus dropping from a good distance down to the floor. It makes me cringe every time I think of it.

I’ve told this story quite a few times now, and every single time I do I’m rewarded with a similar story. Kids falling down stairs, falling off tables, falling out of strollers. Hearing stories like that does make me feel better… and makes me feel less like a crappy mom…but still. This was my fault, and I’m taking responsibility.

I’m the one who left the door open.
I’m the one who was supposed to watching him.
I’m the one who was looking at my phone.

And of course I have a million excuses – I usually don’t leave the door open. I was sitting right next to him! I was distracted for a matter of minutes.

But despite all that… it’s still my fault.

Here’s the worst part of all. That morning, I had judged another mom. I sat there with my judgy, judgy self and judged, and then something like karma came and bit me in the ass. (I don’t actually believe in karma, but if I did this would be a really good example of it).

I took Molly to her first dance class Saturday morning (which was freaking adorable, but that’s another story for another time). As I’m sitting there, one of the other moms was giving her newborn baby a bottle. But rather than holding him lovingly and gazing into his eyes, she was kind of letting him dangle off her lap as she shoved the bottle in his mouth and scrolled through her phone.

I’m not usually one to judge (OK, yes I am, but I’m really trying not to). But this really got to me. Mostly because I had just read a pro-breastfeeding article discussing how covering up to breastfeed robbed mothers of eye contact with their babies while feeding, which is part of the whole bonding experience, which is why breasts are positioned where they are because newborns don’t have sharp eyesight yet, etc, etc. So with this in mind, I was thinking, what the hell is she looking at on her phone that’s more impressive or amazing than her 3 week old baby? Why is she skipping this beautiful moment to look at Facebook?

So you can see the foreshadowing here. Mere hours later, rather than bonding with or watching my own son eat, I looked at my phone and ultimately let my child fall down the stairs. Turns out I’m not one who should be passing judgement. Like, at all. Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.

Everyone who shared their own accident stories assured me that the guilt and anxiety will pass, and I’m sure they will, but at this moment I’m feeling very guilty + anxious about it. I just keep thinking what could have happened.

The night after the incident, I barely slept. I woke up every couple of hours to go make sure he was still breathing (and I think Eric was shaken too, because he was getting up and checking just as often). At work today, all I kept thinking was, “My son is alive. Thank God he’s alive,” which is a strange thought to have.

There’s not much point to this post other than to share my story and hopefully inspire someone somewhere to double check their baby gate, possibly preventing an accident from happening. Because despite the fact that I’m a loving, caring, protective, and vigilant mother, I let my guard down, and something truly terrible almost happened.

But it didn’t.

10 random things right now

I have completely given up on organizing my thoughts enough to create cohesive posts on one single theme. Hence, you get a random list.

1. Some of you may have seen yesterday that an article I wrote about Whole30 got shared by HuffPo, thus attracting the attention of Melissa Hartwig, the creator of Whole30. Imagine my surprise and delight when she messaged me directly on my BBT Facebook page and said, “Good job!”

But because I can’t let good things just be good, I immediately started stressing out over this whole chain of events. You see, this all happened because my coworker needed a story to feature on Maria Rodale’s blog (Maria’s Farm Country Kitchen). I’ve written various articles for that blog before, and some have been shared on LinkedIn and even HuffPo once. One of those articles even got someone from RedTricycle to reach out and ask if I’d like to become a contributor, but so far nothing ever came of that.

Anyway, I wrote the article on Whole30 because that’s what I was thinking about, but honestly I could have done so much better. I wish I would have edited it more, spent more time on it, really thought deeply about the ten best tips… all things I would have done had I known Melissa freaking Hartwig was going to read it!! And now my blog is getting all these views and likes and I just feel like it needs an overhaul, like, yesterday. So hopefully this is motivation to get my act together and finally update this space. Can I get a redo on this whole event, please? Because as a writer, I’ve been phoning it in for months now, and that just wasn’t my best work. Dammit.

2. I alluded to something exciting in the works and it did finally happen. Eric has a new job and starts on Monday, woo! Not only is this a new job… it’s his dream job. 100% work from home, making more money than we could have hoped for, and actually doing work that he claims he will love. I am thrilled for him, of course, and for what this means for our family… less stress about money, finally paying down debt, always having someone at home for inevitable events like appliance repair and package deliveries. I’m hoping it will also make him a happier person because he won’t have road rage after an hour commute.

Actually, the whole thing feels too good to be true, which is why I’m worrying that something will go wrong any minute. Some paperwork snag, some small issue that will prevent the job from happening. So before I muse on it any further (and I have plenty to muse on, since him getting this job has allowed me more space to think about following my own dreams and what that might look like), I’m going to stop, cross my fingers, and pray that all goes smoothly. If you have the time and inclination, please hope and pray with me.

3. I’ve become slightly more obsessed with real estate lately, which I didn’t think was possible. I was already at the point of checking real estate apps more often than I checked Facebook but now that potentially affording a new house is a reality, my compulsion has reached a fever pitch. It’s actually funny because I don’t really want to find the perfect house yet since we are still many months away from being ready to move… it’s almost like I’m checking to make sure it’s not there. And I just enjoy looking, you know?

We had our realtor over for dinner the other night (over the years, he’s become a friend), and he and I spent literally four hours poring over listings that we liked and didn’t like, pulling comps for my house and discussing the updates that I should and shouldn’t do, discussing crazy home buyers and sellers, and drinking wine. It was honestly some of the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Eric eventually got bored and left the room, popping back into the kitchen only occasionally to exclaim, “Are you two seriously still looking at houses?!”

Hanging out with Ben makes me wonder if I should get into real estate but the thing that holds me back is that I’m unsure if I like house hunting in general, or if I just like looking at houses and dreaming of my life in them (which wouldn’t make me a very good realtor at all). I don’t think I would like things like inspections and closings and paperwork. Still, it’s an interesting thought…

4. This eyebrow artist who my mom swears by told me that my eyebrows look like commas and now when I look in the mirror, that’s all I can think about.

5. So many people have private messaged me about doing a Whole30 that I was thinking of starting a private Facebook page so we could all do it together in September. Any of you interested? Let me know. I feel personally excited and responsible for every person I recruit to this amazing program.

6. We are going camping this weekend and I have like zero motivation over the whole thing. I did not shop or meal plan and now I’m not sure what’s going to happen. But the campground is literally 20 minutes from my house so I figure worst case scenario, if I forget something vital I can run home and come back in under an hour.

7. Molly amazes me. She is just… brilliant. I’ve started to get used to having full conversations with her and yet it still blows me away when she grasps some kind of concept that’s well beyond what I would expect a 2-year-old to comprehend.

Like the other night, when there was a thunderstorm. She and I were cuddling in my bed and talking about how thunder is loud and it was very dark outside. Then she curled up against me, laid her little head on my chest and said, “Mommy, I’m safe.”

She also never stops talking. I figure it’s payback for when I was a little older than she was and never stopped talking, ever. When I tune out and I’m not paying full attention to her she says, “Mommmmmy, I’m talkin’ to you!”

I love that girl.

8. It’s funny how different kids can be. Remember how Molly never crawled, she just scooted around in her own special way and then started walking? Well, Liam is a crawler. He went from tentative creeping to zipping around the house at lightning speed in the space of about a week. And unlike baby Molly, he is into EVERYTHING. He wants to play in the fireplace, pull on the hair dryer cord, and handle the toilet brush (ew). He has an obsession with putting shoes in his mouth (double ew). He also decided that he is not a baby, he’s a big boy, and has started staunchly refusing baby food. He eats everything we eat and for any given meal, eats about double what Molly eats. He’s up to 21 lbs and a lot of his 9 month outfits don’t fit anymore. Meanwhile, Molly weighs 24 lbs. At the beach when we had them both in the wagon we had multiple people ask if they were twins.

Also he’s a total mama’s boy, which I love. The smiles he reserves just for me are basically the best thing ever.

9. I’ve recently become an expert at imaginary home decorating. If you’ve never tried it, you should! Here’s how it works: you sit in a room of your home and stare at all the things you don’t like. You envision what needs to change to make the room pretty (New rug! Restain the mantel! Built-in bookcases!). Then you go about your life knowing that you have neither the time nor the money to fix any of it. The end.

10. Speaking of home decorating, I just found the Young House Love blog and it’s killing me slowly. I am completely enamored by them and everything they do. I even had a dream last night about cleaning grout based on a post of theirs I read. Their podcast is a little obnoxious but I listen anyway because that’s how much I love them.

That’s all I have for today. Until next time…