I seriously CAN NOT help myself.  I just really, really like dressing my kid up in things that make me laugh.  I suppose most parents don’t derive joy from the humiliation of their children once their children can actually FEEL humiliated, I hope I don’t either.  But in the meantime, before he realizes what an asshole his mom really is, I have plenty of time for giggling at my kid’s expense.

Exhibit 1:

A pumpkin?  Really Mom?  Could you have been more literal?

His buddy Alex was a dragon.  Apparently his parents don’t believe in schadenfreude.

Exhibit B:

Fedorable!

Exhibit C:  I  may have laughed at the end of this video.  But only because I know he was just fine!

So I have to admit, it never really occurred to me while naming my son that the word “Mac” is also a super popular computer.  I don’t know why, I was well aware of the prevalence of Macs, but I guess I was so far removed from that train of thought that the similarity (can you even use the word similarity when its exactly the same?) eluded me.

And then today, I went and bought my very first Mac.  And I had to keep correcting myself while speaking about my purchase.  “No, the computer, not my son.”  Huh.  Um…oops?  Or something?

Oh well.  I’ll just have to start calling it The Apple and hope that I never hang out with Gwenyth and Chris.

BUT!  What I really was here to say is that I bought the Mac for my new hobby.  And by “new”, I mean only.  Back in August I started lamenting to The Boy about not having a hobby.  It went something like this:  “(Whining)You have golf and baseball and football.  And I have nothing.”  I was very juvenile about it, I’m sure I pouted and I also went on to explain that drinking and watching DVR’ed television did not a hobby make.

So I figured I’d go back to my college days.  Never fear, I don’t plan to wear over-sized plaid shirts, corduroy carpenter pants and Doc Martens, oh no!  Those days are behind me.  I was referring to my college days when I had some crazy-town idea that if I spent enough time in the darkroom, I could become a real-live photographer.  In retrospect, it’s possible that it was the chemical inhalation while residing in said darkroom that most likely gave me such lofty goals.  But I digress.

I liked taking photos.  I liked feeling semi-creative without having to know how to paint or draw or sculpt.   And trust me on this one, painting, drawing and sculpting were NOT my strong suit.  So I decided to pick the camera back up.  We have a nice enough dSLR to get me going so I just needed some good editing software, a new lens or two and well, a Mac of course.  Maybe not so much on the last one but last week I discovered that my Gateway refused to boot up both my photo software and iTunes at the same time so…do the math.

And off I go.  I’ve always taken photos of friends’ kids and of various families around the holidays for their cards.  This year, I’ve already got four families all up in my ying to take pics so I’m upping the ante and seeing if I can come up with something better than my status quo.

I have a hobby!  I’m a hobbyist!  I hobby!

*And just to ensure that the trip back to college is complete, I just re-purchased Waiting for the Night by The Freddy Jones Band.  All I need is some Busch Light and a DVD copy of Reality Bites and I’m back in 1996.  With better hair and about 45 pounds lighter, mind you.

I recently received an “anonymous” comment on my blog stating that due to my “high and mighty” birth plan, I had gotten what I deserve by having a manual extraction of my retained placenta.  I have let this comment marinate for quite a few days, spent some time thinking about it and my blog as a whole and why precisely this person would have said that.

While marinating here are a few other things I learned that have made this particular assault even more difficult to stomach:

• This person was not a random internet person but rather a woman straight from our very own IF community.
• This person has a child that is a mere month and a half younger than mine indicating that this person should have far better things to do than saying hurtful things in a cowardly manner. 
• This person also appears to have had complications after her delivery which, in my silly little mind, would make her an ally in this big bad world.  Not an enemy.  

I’m truly perplexed.  And I am truly angered.  Beyond just the fact that this woman would say something so terrible and mean-spirited, my mind is boggled as to why she would have thought my birth preferences (note: PREFERENCES as it was never a plan) were high and mighty?  Did I ever express that my birth was, in any way, better than anyone elses?  No. Did I ever have derogatory things to say about inductions, epidurals or c-sections?  No.  Every person is entitled to their own birth.  I’ve always believed that.  Did I opt for a natural birth?  Yes.  Do I have a soapbox about that method?  No. 

Furthermore, if this person had BOTHERED to read my blog in any sort of detail before attacking me, they may have realized that I am dealing with some PTSD thanks to my complications.  You know what’s super awesome?  Making snide comments and being abusive towards someone who has been traumatized.  What is wrong with you?  I HOPE that I was alone in this person’s uneducated and irrational anger.

And as a personal note to this person – GO AWAY.  I know you continually come back to visit my blog because you bookmarked the page with your rude-ass comment.   And stop bouncing around to my friends blogs and making hypocritical comments – its annoying when you say things to them that directly contradict what you said to me.  Bottom line: stop coming to my blog.  Stop reading about my feelings.  If you have such disdain for my “high and mighty” ways then stop reading about them. Deal?

Finally, I work in network security.  While that does give me a slight leg up in understanding the ways of the internet, it should be noted that anyone with a rudimentary understanding of IP addresses can discover who made the “Anonymous” comment on their blog.  If you’re going to insist on doing such a thing, can I make a small suggestion?  Thanks.  I suggest you take your first and last name off your blog.  As well as your husband’s and your child’s.  And while you’re at it, you might want to remove your hometown from your profile as well.  HOPE you appreciate the tip for the next time you opt to be an asshole.

It should be noted, I thought for a long time about not posting this because, in a way, I pity you.  You’re obviously angry, sad and struggling in some manner.  Not to mention you lack an understanding of the interwebz.  It can’t be fun to be inside your soul right now and so I wasn’t sure if I was going to even write this.  But then, as I mentioned, I noticed you JUST KEEP COMING BACK.  And so, here you go.

And with that, I’ve spent far too much time addressing your ignorance.  I’m finished. 

I’m tired.  Not just like (Yawn) tired but like soul-sucking, bone-aching tired.  I’m so freaking tired that I went to bed at the same time as Mac did last night.  That’s 7:30pm, doods.  And then I woke up at the same time – which was possible nearly 12 hours later.  Okay, you got me, it was totally 12 hours later. 

I feel like I could lay down and take a nap at pretty much any given moment during my day.  It doesn’t really matter what I’m doing.  I’ve even started to fantasize about sleep.  I fantasize about my bed and its soft sheets and fluffy pillows. I’m pretty sure that these daydreams are a form of torturing oneself.  But I’ve even tried to figure out ways to sleep when I’m away from my bed. 

Even when I go to the grocery store I think about taking a nap.  That said, I’ve not yet resorted to actually NAPPING at the grocery store but its good to know that I COULD in a pinch.

Or, you know, if I was on my way home from an ugly sweater party and saw some cardboard boxes?  Its good to know that again, in a pinch, I could take a nap.  Although I wonder if this guy is napping or doing his best Jesus on the Cross impression?  WWJD?  Not wear that ugly fucking sweater.

So anyways, I apologize for the lack of posts lately.  And within this small number of posts, I apologize for the utterly mundane topics and failed attempts at humor.  But when one is exhausted, one can do nothing but imagine the next opportune moment for sleep.  Which reminds me, I need to go and organize some bookshelves.

So, I just knew that if I waited long enough, all the other Blogorado ladies would have time to write solid trip recaps making my effort pointless and potentially repetitive and underwhelming.  Hooray!  That said, I do have tons to say about my weekend with BU, Josey, Amanda, Kelly and Natalie (and a cameo by E).

Here in our little land of blogging, we get to know each other through our words and how we express ourselves through writing.  While that does give a fairly solid idea of who we are, what our values are, how we communicate, so on and so forth, it does leave much to the imagination about the actual live person behind the blog. 

Here are some of my insights from the weekend, a weekend where my “virtual” friends became virtually irreplaceable. 

Talking about our lives, having a roundtable discussion about IF, sharing thoughts and getting verbal responses, is a far different thing than writing a post and putting into cyberspace and then getting a few comments in response to that.  Its hard to learn how to not interrupt people.  Oak went back to Etiquette School 101.  We all had so much to say about everything – and the conversations got way more interesting once we moved past IF and into the topics where we weren’t all experts.  We learned things, saw new angles on familiar lives, laughed about inappropriate things and grew as friends in our three short days together.

Our conversations were constant, one topic flowing into the next and into the next with nary a moment where we weren’t able to relate to a story or add a different twist to a topic.   Its been said before but it was like being with old friends, but better because we weren’t telling the same stories over and over, it was all fresh and fun and smart and funny. 

Each person, who I felt I knew so well going into the weekend, surprised me in some way that I wasn’t prepared for. 

Amanda shocked me by being one seriously tough cookie.  For some reason, I had always assumed she was a sweet little thing, and while true, don’t mess with Amanda.  She’s got more spine than people twice her size.  It bowled me over and I loved her all the more for it. 

Josey, who I had known in real life, proved to be a solid bedmate and, wait for it, a morning person.  But beyond all that, Josey seems to take her “big sister” mentality and bring it to other groups beyond her family.  She felt a bit like our mama bear, the one that was going to take care of us if we needed it. 

Miss Natalie, while Queen of the Stream of Consciousness Posts, proved to know the value of silence and was an amazing listener.  One of those girls that saves her comments for when they matter, giving gems of insight rather than brain dumping. 

BU writes in a manner that is self-deprecating and funny, often raunchy, but was actually probably the quietest of our group and had a sweet soul.  I had let the f-bombs fool me, she is a sensitive little beast that BU. 

Kelly was probably the most like what I had imagined save one big thing.  The girl did famously being away from Maggie and was able to kick back and relax with the best of them.  She’s the type of gal you could go on any type of vacation with because it doesn’t matter if you’re going to be lazy or be active or opt to take a nap, she’s goes about it with gusto. 

Elizabeth cracked us all up and it was quite obvious that we had missed out on having our class clown on the trip.  I can’t wait to see her act in real life because the girl’s a hoot. 

And me?  Well, I puked but didn’t cry.  Slept but didn’t drink (much).  Laughed and observed and ate and then laughed some more.  It was a much needed, much anticipated, much loved weekend in the life of me.

And now, my friends, its time to eat my take out chinese food dinner in my hotel room in South Dakota.  Come on, admit it, you’re so fucking jealous.  Mmmmm, fried rice!

Being gone four days means there is a ton for me to catch up on around these here parts.  But first and foremost, I figured I should update you kiddos.  And I figured the easiest to do that was to multi-task by also making myself a to-do list.  (Props to Kelly who admitted to me this weekend that she actually makes lists with items on it that she’s already done just so she can cross them off right away and feel productive.  Love that girl, y’all.)

• Compose blog post recapping Blogorado 2011.  But let’s be honest, I’ll wait long enough, that all the other girls will have already done a post and then I will just link to those.  
• Repeatedly push my baby down as he discovered this weekend how to pull himself up into a standing position.  See what happens when I go away?  All fucking hell breaks loose.  
•  Shove things all up in my parts in the name of no-effort kegels and enhancing the pelvic floor muscles of ladies everywhere.  Or, um, just my pelvic floor muscles. 
• Go buy an economy sized package of oyster crackers so as to prevent repeat performances of Friday night’s Breckenridge Vomithon.  Although I had hoped it was purely due to some altitude sickness up at 10,000 feet, that is sadly not the case.  Back here in the flat lands of the upper midwest I am still feeling as though I could rupe at any given moment.  Fantastic.
• Begin watching the many many hours of DVR’ed TV that I’ve missed over the past two and a half weeks while completely ignoring my job and, more importantly, my customers.  

Oh and apologies for being all over the board in the past few weeks.  I did indeed have my ultrasound last Wednesday.  All appeared to be well with my overachiever pregnancy.  Saw the yolk sac and a heartbeat.  I had us at 6w6d but the ultrasound measured us at 6w3d.  I will not over think this, I will simply assume that somewhere in between there lies the truth.

So, heartbeat, vomit, sobriety and lots of naps, yep, its pretty much official.  I am going to have two kids under 15 months.

I imagine future posts will look something like this:

June 2012 – Tird.  Have 2 babbies.  Send help.  

So in the meantime, I’ll try to keep my shit together.   

Oak hangs head in shame and sheer exhaustion.  I’m sorry I’ve been gone, and sadly, I’ll be MIA for another week or so. 

It’s not you, it’s me.  I swear. 

The past 20 days have been single parenting which melted right into 8 days of condo work which then resulted in two straight days of moving the new tenants in.  Why in the world would I help the new tenants move you may be asking? Well, because, I may have failed to mention this, but the new tenants are actually my parents.  So now maybe it makes more sense why I went all Rainman on the cleaning and painting.

If I could be doing other things I would be trust me.  My leg hair is so long I’m thinking about braiding it tonight before bed to keep it from getting snarled. 

I bought some balls I’m supposed to stick up my ying and word is these fuckers prevent me from ever having to do a kegel ever again.  And guess what?  I’ve been too busy to stick these balls up my shtuff and that means that you haven’t gotten any fun posts about it. 

Its all shameful. 
I’m sorry.

Tomorrow, I travel for work. 

Thursday, I fly to Colorado to smother some bloggy ladies with big, wet, sloppy kisses and then I will proceed to peer pressure them into drinking too much and make them do stupid things. 

Monday, next week, I promise to put stuff up in me, write about it and either shave or take photos (of my legs not my ying). 

Oak Out.

Ladies, I’m here but I’m dog tired. That said – I’m finally catching up on your blogs.  Under normal circumstances, I try to comment often and with thought but this week sorry, no internet hugs for you.  But I’m rooting for you IVFers (Amanda and Rebecca) and proud of you sleep trainers (BU and Nat) and loved catching up on everyone’s worlds. 

I’m painting with Latex paint in well-ventilated rooms, thanks for your concern though! 🙂

And finally, I’m tired and ready for bed.  Tomorrow’s another long day of slave labor with a little cut and color mixed it.  We are experimenting on my hair tomorrow, dying it all over darker (in hopes of removing the pink streaks compliments of the rusty water at the cabin) and adding partial highlights.  As a lifetime platinum blond, the last time I did low lights I had an identity crisis…should be interesting.

*I’ve fallen off the face of the Earth and landed firmly in our rental condo.  Last Friday, our (completely fucking irresponsible) renters moved out of our rental condo and left us with 1200 square feet of scratched, broken walls, dirty floors, etc.  So, I have spent the past 4 days straight in the condo painting. I’m MAYBE one-third of the way through.  NOT FUN.  We were planning to redo the kitchen after they moved out so add that to the chaos and we have a ton to do between now and Monday when the new tenants move it.  Joy.  So yes, I’ve been MIA and will hopefully catch up…Next Monday.

*This morning I took a bit of time to myself and went down to the Thy.mes Warehouse Sale.  What’s that you may ask – well its heaven to those of us with expensive home fragrance habits.  Want to see my loot? I know you do…

If you’ve never heard of Thymes before, I recommend you discover them.  Amazing.

Each of those candles – $6!  Each of those jars of oils – usually $18 – $6!  I MAY have gone overboard but lets not discuss it here.

*I’m still knocked up.  No symptoms, much like last time.  No nausea, no sore boobs, no nothing.  Well, except head-rushes which I attribute to all the up and downing I’m doing while painting.  Six weeks goday. 

*I need to go back down and paint now…sigh.  I am VERY ready for next week’s vacation…ROCKY MOUNTAINS here I come!!!

And by a comedy of errors I actually mean a huge clusterfuck.  This whole “second beta” thing has proven to be a rollercoaster of epic proportions.  I’m starting to question my selection of a new clinic if the truth be put out there. 

So on Thursday I went in for my second beta.  Remember the hackjob the nurse did with the needle?  Yeah, that appointment.  Well finally at 2pm on Friday I called the clinic to get my results because I just couldn’t wait anymore!

Their answering machine proceeded to tell me they were closed on Fridays.  What the fucking shit?  I about had a heart attack.  So I left a message anyways saying basically that when someone comes in for an HCG on a Thursday and they won’t hear until the following Monday that’s good information to share with said patient.  I also mentioned the fact that I was on Progesterone supps during my last pregnancy and needed to know my P4 number ASAP. 

Lucky for me someone called back at 4:30pm on Friday.  She looked at my charts and apparently my blood had coagulated en route to the lab (WTF?) and they weren’t able to get a viable sample.  So we figured out which how close I was to the clinic that I could high tail it over there and we could still send a new sample over by 5pm and the on call nurse on Saturday would call me with the results. 

So high tail it I did.  Give MORE blood I did.  And wait I did.  And wait.  And wait.  And wait.  And finally on Monday AM I called and left yet another fantastic message. 

And then, I got a call back BUT I MISSED IT!  AGH!  So she left me a voicemail and this is what it said, word for word:

“Hi Oak – Its Silly Midwife calling. I just wanted to give you a call with your hcg results.  The number is not where we want to see it.  I would suggest at this point that we wait a week and retest.  Why don’t you give me a call back at the clinic when you get this message.”

And my heart sank.  I had apparently grown attached to the little ball of cells already.  I called The Boy and told him the news and he said the worst thing we can hear from any of our spouses during all the TTC crap “I’m just really bummed out.”  It was all I could do to keep it together.  I sent him back to his work things and wallowed in my guilt before I called the nurse back.

When we finally spoke about an hour or two later she started going into details.  She explained that my beta was 12,000.  SHUT THE FRONT DOOR.  WHAT?!  And it was only then that she had realized what she had said on the message and how it had been construed.  She completely back pedaled and explained that its not what the want to see IN ORDER TO DO AN ULTRASOUND.  They need it to be higher.  I was so relieved and flabbergasted that it didn’t occur to me that 12,000 after my previous beta of 363 was rather HIGH. 

I called back but it was their lunch hour and asked if she meant to say 1200 because 12,000 was just insane.  Finally, at 4pm today, 72 hours after my beta number two which was 72 hours after my beta number one, did I finally get the actual results. 

HCG – 1272
Progesterone – 29.2
Ultrasound booked for 10/12 pending good results from a 10/10 repeat beta and P4 test.

What a ride huh?

Apparently, right now, I’ve got a viable pregnancy here.