Nailed It!

As all of you know my son swallowed a nail a while back. It is still my number one most requested story, so I decided to write it up here to entertain you all with the dumpster fire that is my life. So here it goes:

Monday November 11th:

Chad had the day off for Veterans day so I made a big show (as one does) of showering and doing my hair and feeding the kids a big healthy breakfast and getting everyone ready for school. Basically trying to show him that I am so dedicated to raising his children that I couldn't possibly find a spare minute for things like laundry or vacuuming and that's why its his job. And when that got tiring I reverted back to my real self and went shopping for the day. 

Tuesday November 12th: 

Now that Chad was back to work I was free to wear sweats to school drop off again. It was such a relief that I stayed in them all day, and at pick up my "friends" (real friends, I love them) joked about how I only get ready for the day when Chad is around. So I explained that I can't leave Carson unattended long enough to shower AND wash my hair because he does things like flooding the basement twice and melting an instant pot on the stove. Unfortunately they are both "boy moms" so they had zero sympathy for me and my one son, so I decided to try a little harder to get my life together. Then when we got home Carson made himself some toast and somehow started a small, hardly noticeable, toaster fire. I decided to put off getting my life together for another day.

Wednesday November 13th:

I showered and washed my hair, the house was still standing when I was done. A good sign. I walked downstairs and found Carson poised and ready, screwdriver in hand, about to stab a giant box that held the new UPHOLSTERED headboard for the guestroom. I grabbed it from his hand.

       Me: "Why son? Why?" 

         C: "I'm just so curious"

       Me: "You have a serious problem dude."

         C: "I know Mom, I know"

We have this conversation a lot. Like multiple times a day, a lot. I let my hair air dry and he "helped" me put together the new bed. It took way longer that it should have, but I got the bed all set up with fresh sheets and left the box and Styrofoam in the guestroom for Chad to take away. I had done HIS job by putting it together after all, its the least he could do.

Thursday November 14th:

I forgot to tell Chad that I left a ton of cardboard and Styrofoam in the guestroom for him to dispose of. It's hard to have your life together. Carson did not forget. I came downstairs and found a cardboard house surrounded by "snow." While I would normally close the door and save it for after bedtime, I was trying to get my life together now, so I took all the cardboard out the the recycling, thanking Carson for breaking it down for me. Then I turned on Power Rangers to distract him while I vacuumed. when I was all done in the guestroom I went to check on Carson. He had apparently kept a secret stash of Styrofoam in case of emergency because now the living room was also a winter wonderland!

         Me: Can you ever just sit still bud?

           C: My brain just gets crazy ideas sometimes.

        Me: I get that.

Since it wasn't like he broke anything or drew on anything or set anything on fire I decided to excuse myself to cry to Chad about how cleaning is useless and we should just burn the house down and start over. Carson walked in with a guilty look on his face so I hung up the phone.

          Me: "What happened now, bud?" 

            C: "I swallowed a nail"

          Me: "Fingernail?" I knew full well it was not a fingernail, I was just hoping.

            C: "Nope"

          Me: "Fantastic"

            C: "I was just holding it in my teeth pretending to be a humming bird and pecking
                    things, but then I accidentally yawned and swallowed it."

          Me: "Well I guess we know now that that is a terrible idea"

So I called Chad, told him what happened, asked him to text our doctor friend and ask how worried we should be, and informed him that I will not be vacuuming ever again. I threw a pull up on Finny and off we went to Urgent Care. Since Urgent Care is in the same building as his pediatrician they sent us down to his office. He was out for the day so they kicked us across the hall to another pediatrician. We were there with a cute baby boy who had a pretty bad cut on his tongue. His parents should really be careful about what he puts in his mouth, I mean, were they even watching him? Finally the nurse brought us back. She asked "a nail? Like the kind you use with a hammer" about 3 times, then said "that's a new one, and a scary one!" Ya kinda why I'm here, thanks. So she asked us about the the nail, size, what kind of metal, was it was rusty, mothers maiden name? Did it enjoy long walks on the beach? Is it survived by any children? I told her I didn't know and that had I seen my son playing with a nail, obviously I would have taken it from him. I have my life together now, I washed my hair yesterday. 

They sent us to get X-rays a few more people clarified that he swallowed "A Nail? Like what you would use to hang a picture?" Yep exactly. They laid him on the table and asked him to unbutton his pants and shimmy them down a little so they could get a clear picture. Carson blushed.

            C: Good thing I put on my favorite undies this morning

         Me: Ya or this could have been embarrassing.

They snapped the picture and Carson got up, pulled up his pants and walked around to see the screen. and there it was. Giggles broke out in the whole office and multiple techs came out of no where to see the results. Ya, sure, very amusing, my kid swallows nails, but all his boogers go in tissues so I'm still kind of crushing parenting. 

           C: "Wow, my insides ARE as handsome as my outsides."

        Me: "Ya, and that nail adds just the right touch"

So at the office the doctor tells us that he believes Carson can pass it no problem and sends us home with a bucket for him to poop in so that we can recover the nail. If it doesn't come out by next Thursday he will have to be taken to Primary Children's Hospital for surgery. Oh and if he poops blood, spikes a fever, or changes colors its probably a rupture so you should take him to Primary Children's for that too. Oh, OK, wait, what?!

So we are back at home. I'm watching him like a hawk, and also trying to stuff him full of food so he has some padding in there. Broccoli will make him poop, maybe some bread to insulate the nail, apples, yogurt, pancakes? No, those are for soaking up alcohol, I'll keep the recipe for when he inevitably drives me to binge drink. My phone rang. "stay where I can see you while I answer this!" It's Chad. Carson's doctor called him and said that he disagreed with the other doctor and thinks that the risks are too high and Carson should go to Primary Children's and have it surgically removed, they are finding a third opinion. Oh, cool, we will just put it to a vote then. At this point Chad also told me our friend we had texted earlier also suggested taking him to Primary Children's. So 2 to 1 in favor of slicing open my favorite son. The third opinion came back, another vote for let it pass. So Carson's doctor decided we would leave it up to the Surgeon General.

As we were waiting to hear back I called my sister and cried. I don't have a spare son, so keeping this one is my top priority, some may even say its my full time job. Also I didn't know if I should be hoping for surgery or not because if he doesn't have the surgery I am going to be a walking ball of anxiety until it passes, but if he has to have surgery that's anesthesia, a hospital stay, recovery time, and explaining to his teacher that I missed Parent Teacher Conference because he swallowed a nail on my watch. Imagine what would have happened if I didn't get my life together the day before, would he have swallowed a whole toolbox?

Finally at around 4:30 we got the final word that we would wait until Monday for surgery. Everything was fine and calm the rest of the night. Chad brought home dinner, I can't cook after such a tiring day, I already fed him two meals and an accidental snack for heavens sake. We ate and discussed where we might go for Carson's birthday dinner now that he hopefully wont be having surgery.  Lowes? Home Depot? I would say Harbor Freight, but its his birthday, so we should splurge a little. After dinner Chad and Carson are building with LEGOs and Chad is holding one in his mouth. 

           Me: This is all your fault! He inherited the mouth holder gene from you!

        Chad: I'm so sorry

           Me: you have to dig through his poop, this is on you.

Friday November 15th: 

Poop number one came around and Chad got his gloves on and started the search. Nothing. Chad would have to search again. I found it hilarious. I mean I was concerned about Carson, of course, but this was taking the edge off. 

Chad had an appointment so I was flying solo at Carson's PTC. I took all the kids. His preschool teacher went on and on about how smart he was and how he already learned all the kindergarten sight words and was moving on to to first grade sight words, he's so advanced, they are so proud, I didn't have the heart to tell them their little genius swallows nails in his spare time. Then Finley pooped in her underwear as we were walking out of the school at the same time Carson announced that he too had to go potty, there are bathrooms at the school, but no special poop buckets so I took him all the way home while holding a poopy toddler out in front of me and while Brisa screamed and berated me for not carrying her backpack for her. There is only one house between our house and the school, but it felt like a death march. We got home Carson peed. Just pee, seriously? You could have done that at the school. A few hours later the nail reemerged and Chad was so proud. Our boy sure is regular! 

Carson learned nothing and I still have to confiscate items from him constantly. I have decided that medical costs being what they are I will cease all midday cleaning and continue seeing my dear friend dry shampoo, a 3 minute shower is all the risk I need to take in the day. I will continue filling the role of hot mess mom at school drop off, someone has to do it. I make other moms feel like rock stars by comparison and that is fine by me. There is a lot less pressure here at the bottom. 

Not a Great Time to be a Bunn-mobile.

Because this story is WAY to long for a Facebook post I decided to post it was a blog. So after 20 minutes of trying to remember how to blog and where to even go to log in I am here and ready to roll.

January 2017- It all began a 3 days after Finley was born, as we were putting her car seat in the car to bring her home from the hospital (yes are Olympic level procrastinators.) we were slapped in the face with the realization that we could not fit all 3 kids car seats in my car. So after some pushing, pulling, tetris-ing, and smaller car seat buying we got all the kids in the back seat and decided we needed a bigger car. Chad immediately started looking at minivans, and I immediately started threatening his life if he dared trade in the love of my life (my Malibu) for a minivan. So we tabled it. For a year and a half. And it was fine, just look at these forced smiles.

Also I took this as we were getting out of the car as Carson
 was loosening his seat belt, we didn't drive with it like this,
don't even start with me.

Fun fact: Chad and I host minor league baseball players every summer. They live in our basement, eat cereal at all hours of the night, call me Mom, and sometimes make my neighbors question if I'm having an affair, prompting some very awkward conversations, but that's a story for another time. (Why am I telling you this, could this be part of some kid of twist ending?)

Family Photo with Antonio and Alonso

Our current boys. Antonio and Adolfo. 

Memorial day Weekend 2018- We took my car into the dealership for an oil change. There was a carnival going on in the parking lot so we walked around (Chads fatal mistake) and a beautiful new Traverse caught my eye. We test drove her, it was true love! So we went inside to talk financing and Chad asked about trading in my Malibu. Excuse me?! No! So we tabled it. For a year.

June- Two weeks before our trip to San Diego we were driving home from my parents house and my kids were fighting non-stop in the backseat. Finley kicked Carson in the face, which made him cry, which annoyed Brisa and made her have a full on meltdown. It was a 10 minute drive, they couldn't go 10 minutes in the car without arguing. It was in that moment I decided that I needed that Traverse before we left for San Diego! But because I was still unwilling to trade my car in for it Chad said no and we decided to rent a minivan for our drive to San Diego. It should be noted that at this point Chad was given a truck by his grandfather and had I bought the Traverse it would have brought our owned car total to 4. I am a monster, I blame my parents for not telling me no enough.

So on our trip something unexpected happened. I fell in love with a minivan, the automatic doors! I don't have to walk around and make sure they are closed all the way! and I don't have to worry about the kids flinging the door open and hitting a car next to them! I was still 100% against getting rid of my car (monsters are notoriously stubborn). There is no way I am going to be driving around in a minivan unless it has kids in it. I know its unreasonable, but I'm too young (in my monster mind) to become a full time van mom. So Chad said if I wanted to have both I would have to wait until next spring when we could buy the minivan in cash because making car payments to buy a 4th car for a household with only 2 adults is apparently "ridiculous".

It was at this point that fate stepped in for team Megan. In July a few days after we got home from San Diego Chads car died and it would cost more to fix it than the car was worth so because we now needed another vehicle I got a van without trading in my car! I'm not proud of this, but I was full on gloating, it's what monsters do.

Saying his final goodbyes.

Saying hello to our new wheels.

It is about now in the timeline that we were flying home from Maryland and a home run ball was flying into our windshield at Lindquist Field. Go Raptors!

Life happens.

If you have read this far, you now are wondering why you are even friends with me and how Chad has managed being married to me this long (8 years this month!) I couldn't tell ya. But don't worry, karma was gunning for me! Before we even put the new license plates on the van, our sweet host sons, got in a car accident and totaled my car. Luckily everyone was uninjured. But in my sweet baby's autopsy report (probably not actually what it's called) she was marked as great condition all around, so that's something I guess. Also it's weird that a car that still runs and has no damage to any of the mechanical parts can be considered totaled because of the amount of body work it needs. So I got to go clean her out and cry (could they not have thrown a sheet over her to protect her dignity??) and come home to a nice roomy garage.

I'm just now realizing the boys are still in the car in
this shot. I was getting my hair done so Chad sent me this. 

They somehow managed to make her look worse at the shop. 

But as with any "Summer of Bummer" there were many blessings along the way and I think its important to acknowledge them.

1) Chads's New Years resolution was to pay off my car. Chad is super into some budgeting podcast or blog or radio show or something. I have to admit I'm not actually sure what it is, but I know its made my life harder. Anyways because my car was paid off, when it was totaled we got the full amount that the car was worth without having to subtract what we owed. If it hadn't been paid off we probably would have broken about even and not been able to get a replacement for Chad to commute in.

2) We were given a truck before Chads car died. Chad's car was a 2002 Santa Fe with about 200,000 miles on it. We knew it was close to death. So we are very grateful that it held on until we got the truck. Also grateful that it died as soon as he got out of the driveway and not on the freeway on his commute to work.

3) The car was totaled at the end of the baseball season so we only have to drive the boys to and from a couple games instead of the entire season.

So for those keeping track at home. We started the summer with two cars, and will end it with 3 completely different ones.

Little Darlings

Yesterday was an adventure.  While it started off horrible, by the end of the day I was laughing to keep from crying.

So it all Started at 7:15 in the freaking morning!  In my house any morning that I am woken up before 9 is a freaking morning.  Anyways I was sleeping in my bed and my two big kids came in to lay down and sleep/ snuggle like they do every single morning.  This morning though they seemed to have suddenly realized that they were both using the same pillow and that was unacceptable, how they never noticed before today I will never know, but they of course were forced to scream and fight and battle to the death for control of the pillow.  I was too tired to talk so I just hit them with handed them my pillow.  Not good enough, they still fought so I sent them downstairs to watch a show while I slept on all of the pillows, because I'm petty like that.

At around 9 I was woken up to some fighting coming from the kitchen and since I couldn't slip out the front door and escape to Mexico without being seen I went to mediate their dispute. As it turns out they were brushing their teeth and somehow the caps of their toothpastes had gotten mixed up.  They had just had their dentists appointments and they had gotten new dental kits with floss and timers and toothbrushes and toothpaste, identical toothpaste, with identical caps.  So I took both tubes, both caps, left the room and put them together then returned them and everyone was fine.  It was a close call. During the battle Finley had been woken up, but shes perfect and the only child that wasn't on my list, so I was happy to see her. I mean if seeing this face doesn't make you smile you are for sure a serial killer, there is no other explanation.

So then it was time to get ready for swim lessons so I asked Brisa to get her suit on:

Me: "Ok Brisa, go find a swim suit to put on I have to feed Finny, pack some lunches and then we have to go."
Brisa: "no"
Me: "what?  Why not?"
Brisa: "because I don't want to wear the swimsuit I wore yesterday because my teacher has already seen it two days, so I need my other one."
Me: "Ok, then get your other one, I don't care which suit you wear."
Brisa: "ugh, fiiiiine"
Me to Finny: "What just happened?"

So I feed my angel baby and put her down to get Carson dressed:

Carson: "No, not that shirt.  No, no, no, no not that one I never want to wear that one!  I need my baseball shirt!"
Me: "Your baseball shirt is dirty, you wore it yesterday remember?"
Carson: "Well you could wash it for me!"
Me: "I will wash it, but I don't have time to do it right now, we have to go."
Carson: *throws himself on the ground in grief and cries*

Meanwhile I ask Brisa to grab clothes to change in to after lessons, she picks a fleece pullover, and sweats, all brand new, and all completely inappropriate for a 90 degree day.  She will not listen to reason I am beyond caring so I give in, if she sweats, she sweats.  Also she looks fierce so more power to her.

So now that Carson is grieving he follows me around crying for the next hour as I'm trying to get everyone dressed and ready to go.  I hand him shoes, he cries, I ask Brisa to go to the bathroom before we leave, She screams, he cries, I cry, Finny looks on in horror, we leave.

When we get to the pool everything is great, the kids are both mad and not talking to me because apparently I am the problem, I don't care, its quiet.  Then my handsome husband showed up with a breakfast burrito.  He's always handsome, but when hes holding food he is 100x more attractive, its science I think. He takes over the parenting and I eat my burrito.  Everything is right in my world.  Then the whistle blows and swim lessons are over.  Cut to the locker room:

B: It smells in here.
Me: Yep, sure does, lets change fast.
B: What is that smell?
Me: Don't know, lets just get you changed.
B: It smells like Finny's diapers.
Me: Brisa we could be done by now!
B: Fiiiine!  Where are my panties?
Me: I don't know, did you put them in your bag?
B: oops, I forgot.
So she Michael Phelpsed it out of the surf and swim in bathing suit bottoms and a sweater, she looked adorable.

As we were walking out Carson stopped in front of the candy counter and demanded a treat, that's when I remembered that I had tried to bribe him in to silence earlier, it didn't work so he didn't get a treat, he screamed all the way to the car.  Chad helped me load the kids in the car, that opened my door for me and as soon as I sat down I realized that he was going back to work and I was going to be left alone with them once again.  as he closed the door I cried, he opened it to check on me, gave me a hug and then sent me on my way.

Since I had already finished my emergency supply of Dr Pepper the day before I decided to grab a soda on the way home, the kids were already in the car and I would have to pass a million drive thru's on the way home anyway so I talked myself into it. As we pull up Brisa asks for a Happy Meal, I say no, she said that she didn't get to go down the slide today after swim lessons so I owed her.  I told her that made no sense and she could go down the slide at home.  The one we bought and installed on our deck because our kids NEEDED a slide.  That was obviously an awful idea because she immediately started crying and screaming that she hated me.

B: I hate you!  You are not my mommy ANY.MORE.
Me: cool, I guess that means I don't have to pay for college!  Daddy and I are going to go on vacation!
B: I'm NOT going to college.
Me:  well since I'm not your mommy anymore, I don't care if you do or not.

She just rolled her eyes and walked into the house.  I guess even though I'm not her mom now I still have to feed her and clothe her a put a roof over her head. Seems unfair, oh well.  I grabbed my Finny girl and headed inside. Brisa wasn't talking to me and had gone to hide in her room.  Carson was at the end of the hall crying because he had accidentally locked himself out of my room before he was done going through all the drawers on my vanity and throwing everything on the ground.  Such a shame.  After giving Brisa a few minutes to calm down I went to talk to her, I couldn't find her so I had to look around and I finally found her in her closet covering her doll with a glue stick. Apparently she wanted to give her doll a bath and instead of just asking decided to make her doll dirty so I wouldn't be able to say no. She was shocked when she realized I WAS able to say no and cleaned it myself.

Since she was clearly in an artsy mood I sat her down at her table and gave her some markers.  Somehow in the midst of creating she dropped a marker without noticing.  Finley on the other hand noticed right away.  So while I was giving a doll a bath Fin was eating a marker.

I had just about enough at this point so I sent my big kids outside so that I could clean up Finny and read a little to calm down.  A few minutes later I notice some commotion across the living room.  I looked up and saw the kids playing with Fin and laughing and getting along. I smiled, this is so nice, look how sweet they are, such perfect little angels.  I went back to my book.  then I herad "Oh no! Catch him Carson!" I look up and there is a grasshopper hopping on the rocking chair.  Turns out my little angels were not playing with their sister, Carson was showing her his new pet.  When he finally caught it again I sent them outside and told them not to come in until they were ready to stay in.

Which leads me to my third and final disaster.  It took a while, but after talking to the witness and the perp a few times I think that I have finally put together the chain of events.  While they were outside they came across a sticky mouse trap.  Why was it outside you ask?  Why can't a mouse live its life in the backyard?  Isn't it mean to have them out in the fresh air where the mice run and frolic? All good questions, all questions for Chad.  Anyways, Brisa touched it.  then got nervous because she had already been told not to touch it so she freaked out.  She grabbed it with the other hand and then was double stuck, so she wiped it off on to her brand new clothes she was wearing for the very first time that were supposed to last all winter long.  Then Carson helped her pry it off with a stick.  Crisis Averted.  Except now she was all sticky.  So she covered it all in dirt and grass, mom wouldn't notice. That didn't work she was still all sticky so she ran in and sprinted to the bathroom to wash her hands.  a few minutes later I heard a small "Mom, a little help in here?" so I went in and found her covered in mud. so I told her just rinse it off.  she said she couldn't and when I went to help her I realized how sticky she was.  I  asked her what it was and she said it was glue that she found outside, and I was so confused because why would there just be insanely sticky glue laying around outside?  Then I realized two things:  1) soap and water were not going to be enough, and 2) I was now covered in the stuff too.  So I peeled her off the bathroom sink she was now stuck to and carried her to the kitchen, put her down and saw the sticky trap stuck to her.  It had somehow become reattached during the cover up attempt.  So now that I knew what I was dealing with I told her we would have to call Chad because I was so sticky I couldn't use my phone or the computer.  Thankfully we have an Amazon Echo that I can use to call Chad using just my voice.  Brisa begged me not to call him so I told her I wouldn't tell him who was stuck, but I needed him to Google how to take it off. She agreed and we were in business.  Unfortunately while I was on the phone I said it was "all over her hands and clothes".  When I got off the phone Brisa yelled at me because I had given her away.  Whatever.  So I finally got it off of her (peanut butter on her hands, hot water wash on the clothes)

After all the chaos I went to the living room to celebrate my victory and found Carson and the carpet covered in Brisa's make-up.  Fortunately for him I was already dead inside so I just cleaned him and sent him downstairs cleaned up the carpet and then Chad walked in the door.  I changed, told him I didn't have time to make dinner and left.  I came back an hour later, boo, but the kids were already in pj's and ready for bed.  They went to sleep, I snuggled Finny and we all lived happily ever after.  Finny also got her hands on a blueberry at some point, I'm not sure how, but I'm sure it was a mess. Maybe I should have changed her clothes?

Finley

So I realize I never posted about Finley's birth. Maybe because she's the third child, and maybe because it was a c-section and I was so drugged I don't remember a thing. Either way I will try to make something up recall the details now.


So Finley's story really starts a few weeks before she is born. In one of my late ultrasounds it was discovered that Finley had short femurs ( I was 36 weeks, but her femurs measured at 32 weeks), which can be a marker for downs, but she had no other markers so I put it out of my mind. At that appointment they were so concerned about her legs that the fact that she was breech was overlooked. So at my next appointment they told me that she was breech and I had only 2 weeks to try to flip her naturally before we would have to discuss other options. So home I went. I spent 2 weeks upside down, I had a huge headache, but if I could save myself from a c-section it would all be worth it. 

The morning of my appointment she got the hiccups and I felt them way up in my ribs, so, no flip. Then I saw on the ultrasound that she was still breech and also she was so high up in my ribs that her nose was all smashed on the ultrasound. Fantastic. 

So I scheduled my External Cephalic Version for a Thursday afternoon and an ultrasound for the Tuesday before to see if maybe by some miracle she would flip on her own and save me a trip to the hospital, no such luck. So on Thursday, December 22 I went to the hospital to be manhandled by a doctor. Now for those of you who aren't familiar with the version procedure I will save you the google. Basically it's a procedure for the lucky moms with the stubborn babies. You willingly check yourself into the hospital, they hook you up to an IV, clear an operating room in case you go into labor and have to have an emergency c-section, and then shoot you up with some speed while they push on your belly to turn the baby. Maybe it wasn't actually speed, but it definitely made me feel like I could lift a car, I was hooked up to lots of machines and an IV and wasn't able to test it, but I'm sure I could have. I feel like that description raised more questions then it answered, my apologies.


So after they drug you they poor oil all over your belly and push and pull and knead your belly until your child turns. Finley refused. They said usually the baby's heart rate will speed up to show that they are annoyed by whats happening, not Finley, she remained cool as a cucumber, she's so strong. During this time I realized that I had given her too sassy of a name, "a Susan would never behave like this" I muttered to myself. Turns out I wasn't muttering to myself and the doctor laughed and told me that her name was Susan. She confirmed that she was head down as a fetus so my theory was right. At this point I decided to add a little more incentive to the situation, I offered to name my baby Susan if she could get her to flip. I really feel like this helped, she tried again with a new determination. The problem that we had was Finley was hiding her head up under my ribs so when they would push her she would move and hit my lowest rib and get stuck. So the doctor tried to pry her out of my ribs by clawing at my stomach and trying to pull her down. She tried for 45 minutes without any luck and then called a second doctor to come and try because he had bigger hands and a better turning record. Clearly she really wanted my baby named after her. Now I think it is worth mentioning that in the room it was myself, a female nurse, my female midwife, a female doctor, and the man who put me in this awful position, also known as my husband. There was a strong, man hater vibe in that room, I was the only one putting it out there, but it was felt by all. So the big handed doctor arrived, they told him everything they had tried and I could see on his face that he didn't know why they called him since this baby was clearly the most strong willed fetus known to man (men. Ugh.), but he greased up and tried (I think halfheartedly) to turn my baby. No luck. So he left. Of course it didn't work, if a woman couldn't do it, the man didn't even stand a chance.


A couple days after Christmas I went back in to schedule my c-section, the first day they offered was December 29th, Brisa's birthday. She had already told us under no uncertain terms that the baby was not to be born on her birthday, so I was left with the only other date available January 3rd, a Tuesday, what a lovely day for a baby. So January 2nd rolls around and I decide that this would be a good time to go out and get all my hospital supplies and pack my hospital bag. I really love procrastination, and I love putting off packing the hospital bag, there is nothing quite like the feeling you get when you get some Braxton Hicks and don't have your bag packed. The rush. The fear. The shame. The relief that its not real labor and you still don't have to pack the hospital bag, sublime.


January 3rd, D-Day. I woke up at 5:30 to get to the hospital at 6. I was grumpy, I hate mornings. So they checked me in, I gowned up and she placed my IV and then she lifted my gown to put on the baby heart rate monitor and the nurse looked concerned. My belly was still covered in bruises and claw marks. I explained that I had been abused, but it was OK because I paid them to do it and they gave me speed. Then she left and Chad suited up for surgery.

Fast forward to the operating room with a new nurse:

Me: "Chad, don't look at my butt"

Nurse: I'm sure he's seen it before"

Me: You can't prove that.

Nurse: Are you an organ donor?

Me: Yes, but I know how many kidneys I walked in here with, so don't even think about it.

Nurse: That would be a completely different surgery.

Me: I know, it was a joke.

We just clicked right away, I wonder what she's up to... hmm...

So they drugged me, cut my baby out and whisked her away, but not in a traumatizing way. I found out later that I wasn't able to hold her because she was purple and had some trouble breathing and had to be taken away so the nurses could work on her while I got stitched up/played would you rather with my midwife. Clearly I take childbirth and motherhood super seriously. The children ARE our future after all. So after I was all stitched up they put a bunch of warm blankets on me and wheeled me back to my room. Chad was in there with Finley, she was perfect, he tried to hand her to me, but I was shaking too much to hold her, it was heart breaking, but he laid her on me and I could smell that perfect baby smell, its like crack for new moms. When I was finally able to hold her she started rooting around to eat, and she was not subtle. So I nursed her and she latched right away, it didn't hurt at all, it was weird, I think she was such an awful tenant that she realized she had better be a perfect roommate if she wanted to stay. 

About an hour later they came back to take me to the maternity wing. The nurse was an awful driver and with every bump and run in with the wall I felt intense pain in my abdomen. I can't stress enough how much I loved this woman, we are talking life long friends here. So there I was in my new room, she pressed hard on my tummy to get any clots out, then we said our goodbyes, and she went home (I assume, to kick puppies). In came my new nurse.

Nurse: Have you been passing gas?

Me: yes, I'm sorry I can't control it, I still can't really feel my legs.

Nurse: No, that's a great sign! And really impressive!

Finally someone who appreciates my talents. Later that night I was doing so well that she took out my catheter and told me that I had to pee twice in the next 12 hours or it would have to be put back in, that was all the motivation I needed, so off to the bathroom I went with the help of 2 nurses (Chad had gone home to put the big kids to bed). They had to measure my urine and I filled up the whole container they were impressed. This whole time I didn't have Finley with me because I was alone and couldn't pick her up from the bassinet without help so she was in the nursery. So I just sat there alone drinking tons water, and eating a delicious chicken ceasar salad. I had 4 of them while I was there, it was delicious. and 30 minutes later I had to pee again and and I filled the cup again and my first assignment was checked off my list.


Wednesday morning comes and they tell me my next mission, walking. I have done everything on the go home check list and so once I complete 4 laps around the floor I can leave. Game on. So I ask Chad to help me get up because I have to go to the bathroom, and I realize that all of the morphine they had given me has completely worn off, so much pain! I was shaking and couldn't even talk, I barely made it to the bathroom, so Chad called the nurse so I could get some more pain meds, they helped and so I decided to take a shower because if I am going to be walking around the halls, I'm going to have clean hair. So off I go to the shower, and it hurts, but I'm tough so I keep going, I look down and see I've passed a huge clot, oh well I just have to rinse my hair and then I'll get out and tell the nurse, then I pass out. I called for Chad, but he had fallen asleep and couldn't hear me. So I stood up all on my own (so much pain) turned off the shower then yelled for him again and he walked in, saw me and called the nurse (narc, I want to go home!) they help me to my bed, I lay down, drink water, and eat some crackers, then move to the couch so the nurse can change my wet bedding, and the bed breaks, it wont go up or down. so I have to get in to a bed that is all the way up. I'm 5'3" and have just had major abdominal surgery, it was awful. But eventually I get up and walk. 4 times. It was excruciating!


Thursday at around noon the doctor who preformed my surgery came and did an exam and told me I could go home! I was thrilled, I could finally go home and see my big babies, I missed them so much! We didn't tell them we were coming so we just came in and surprised them, they were so excited, I sat down on the couch and waited for the hugs, turns out they just wanted to see the baby. Whatever. 

The next two weeks were a drugged up blur. One of my medications made me fall asleep. It took me a while to figure out why I would be sitting talking and then just fall asleep. I accidentally deleted Facebook off my phone because I fell asleep with my thumb on my phone before I even opened the app, it was a wild ride. Chad had just started a new job and didn't have any time off to help me so after my mom left I was on my own, so naturally on the night before she left Carson started throwing up. So I was home, all alone, 2 weeks after a c-section with 3 kids, what could possibly go wrong? I'll tell you what, I had to get Carson out of his crib because he was sick and crying and he wouldn't let Brisa help him and I ripped my stitches open. It was gross, they couldn't stitch it closed again so I just had to cover it with band aids, I had band aids holding my stomach closed! It worked, but my scar is hideous now because of all the ripped parts, but such is life. The baby is perfect and she's the happiest little baby that I have ever seen. I love her so much! She's got short femurs, a perfectly round c-section head, and all of my love.

Brisa is literally the funniest kid that I know.  I mean all toddlers say and do funny things, but this girl takes it to a whole other level.  I'm so grateful that I get to be around to hear and see it all, I just wish that I was the older sister and not the mom, because she is strait up nuts.  Any way here are a few "funny" things Brisa has said and done.

Most of you have heard this one, but I'm going to expand it to include more of the details.  One morning while I was in the bathroom peeing/ hiding in the quiet bathroom Brisa went upstairs and grabbed three rolls of toilet paper and TP'd the hallway upstairs and my room and the living room.  I have no idea she could make that big of a mess that quick, but she did.  I didn't have the energy to clean it up and she was so proud that I decided to leave it and clean up when Carson went down for his nap.  The next time I had to go to the bathroom I had to run in and lock the door behind me because I was being chased by two little monsters. I heard Brisa come try to open the door then turn and say to Carson "She locked the door Carson!  I'll make a mess, I think I have a plan!"  I rushed out and found her squirting toothpaste on the toilet paper she had laid out earlier.  After that I thought she could use some time outside since she was obviously too "energized" to play inside.  After a few minutes outside she got bored and went back inside and I ran upstairs to put Carson down for a nap.  I was hiding in my room when I heard a sound that I know all two well.  It was crayons on a wall.  I ran downstairs and couldn't find Brisa anywhere, but found a mural on the wall.  I watched her like a hawk the rest of the day.

Lately Brisa has been asking for a new baby.  Apparently Carson just isn't cutting it anymore.  One night before bed she was negotiating with Chad how many more babies I need to have.  why no one felt that I should be included in the conversation I don't know. 

Chad: How more babies do you think mommy should have?

Brisa: Um.  Three babies.

Chad: how about one more?

Brisa: no, 5 babies

Chad: OK 2 more *goes for the handshake*

Brisa: OK, 3 more babies *shakes*

The next morning Brisa walks in while I'm still sleeping and stares at me.  I wake up, jump out of my skin and she giggles and waves.  After snuggling for a few minutes she asks "Mommy, do you have a little baby in your belly?"  "Nope.  No baby."

Brisa loves her baby brother and is often over come by his cuteness and has to give him hugs and kisses.  Carson is not big on hugs and kisses and only snuggles when he is trying to hint that he wants a nap. Now that he is big enough to get away from her he is always trying to run away when she is in one of her loving moods.  A couple days ago she caught him and was hugging and kissing him and he was screaming and wiggling away.  He got out of her arms and she ran after him yelling "Carson!  just let me love you!!"  I was cracking up.  eventually I pried her off of him, but it was hard because she was being so sweet which is a switch from the fighting that usually happens.  

A week or so ago I gave Brisa a dry erase maker and  laminated piece of paper and let her go to town.  She was having so much fun and being so good and quiet and I was laying on the couch with my eyes closed thinking about how easy parenting is and how I can't believe I have ever complained, this is a piece of cake.  I heard Brisa in her most excited voice yelling "Look Mommy!  I decorated!!"  It would have been totally normal if her voice had been coming from the kitchen table where I left her, but it wasn't.  I opened my eyes and saw that she had colored all over Carson's walker.  I dont have any poker face what so ever and I'm sure she could see the horror on my face because before I even said a word her little eyes started to fill with tears.  I knew it would wipe right off so I just asked "What happened Peanut?  You know you are only supposed to draw in paper, right?"  She burst into tears and was wailing crying saying "I just got excited!"  I didn't have the heart to punish her (mostly because I was a "decorator" at that age too so I know she comes by it naturally, and plain wall still make me sad to this day) I handed her a baby wipe and we cleaned it up together.  

For the past two week Brisa has been requesting that I braid her hair every night before bed.  While I braid her hair we talk about all the things that she did that day and she tells me everything.  Its probably my favorite part of the day.  Last night I could tell she wasn't quite as bubbly as usual so I asked her what was wrong.  She shrugged her shoulders and sighed and said "Its just hard being little sometimes"  Shes was so upset, but cheered right up when I told her only little people like her can climb on the shelves in the pantry and jump on her bed.

A couple weeks ago I was helping Brisa put on her running shoes and I asked her if they felt okay, or if they were too tight (shes had them for a few months) She laughed and said "They're not tight, Mama.  I not big and tall like the sun!!  Silly Mama."

One day Chad and I bought a pie and planned to eat it after dinner, but we forgot about it.  After we put the kids to bed we remembered and I said "ya lets eat that pie!"  seconds later Brisa's door opened and she was walking down the stairs
Brisa: What you eating?
Chad:  Nothing.
Brisa: Mommy What did you said?
Me:  Brisa,don't worry about it, go to bed.

Since we moved to Utah Brisa has become a booger picker.  I think it started out because it was so dry all of our noses were getting dry and bloody, and now it is just a habit.  Anyways now she will picker her nose in the middle of the night and then cry until Chad goes in there and she makes him take her booger so that she can go back to bed.  yuck.

We are trying to turn Brisa into a more obedient and well behaved child so after much online searching I decided that the best course of action for our stubborn as a mule "strong willed" daughter was to take away privileges when she throws a fit.  After a week of power struggles and fights she was finally starting to catch on so when she was about to throw a fit all I had to say was "stop now or you'll lose a privilege" and she would stop.  It was magical.  One particular time She was being difficult and I said "Brisa, do you want to lose a privilege?" and she calmly replied "no, I don't like that Mama"  It was so funny because the way she said it was so sincere it made me smile.  I guess she just doesn't understand what punishments are.  Haha.

#proudmom

I think I'm going try out being a hashtagger for a while, I think it might be the key to happiness, we'll see I guess.

I'm going to tell you all a secret, brace yourself.  Brisa is strong willed. I know what you're thinking "what?  Brisa?  But she is always so calm cool and collected, you must be thinking of someone else" But it's true guys, shes difficult.  I like to tell myself that I got this child because she needed a mom with extra patience and God said "I know just the woman" and sent her to me.  It's a compliment!  Either that or its because of all those times my mom said "I hope you get a child just like you!" I can only assume this is because she enjoyed raising me so much that she hoped I would be able to experience it someday!

While I sometimes feel sorry for myself, lately I have been feeling like it is the biggest blessing!  I would like to preface this by saying I am not "Braggy mom"  I hate "Braggy mom" what with her organic produce and her kid that learned to walk a week before yours.  You know the type, I am not the type.  But since She is turning 3 in just 8 short days I wanted to brag in a humble, my kid is better than yours, but I wont say that out loud kind of way.

She loves her baby brother and would do anything for him.  Even if it means lying to Mommy.  I used to get mad when I would be telling Carson to not hit me and he was laughing and Brisa was in the background saying "He said sorry mama, it was an accident!"  Now instead of seeing it as a lie, I see it for what it is, her trying to protect her baby brother.  I still explain that she shouldn't make things up, but in a kinder way.

They like to go through the mail together, she opens the envelopes, he rips up the contents.  The dream team.

She is full of ideas.  She's always getting into something or thinking of her next big idea.  She pulls so many stunts that other parents ask me for my latest Brisa stories because apparently other kids don't climb on counters and dump entire bags of flour and sugar and salt out because they were in the mood for some cookie baking and thought they could do it themselves.  Sometimes you just have to embrace the crazy, yes it was a huge mess, and yes it made me crazy, but she didn't mean any harm and it was adorable.

She does know how to read a recipe.

She is so creative!  She loves coloring and doing crafts.  Of course we can only do that kind of thing while Carson is asleep, but I think she would craft all day if she could.  And I think she is really good!

She runs to the coloring table the second we walk in to Old Navy.  She also knows exactly where the bathroom is.  Do I shop there too much?  Nah! 

We play with playhough everyday.  

She runs away sometimes if we put her in her running shoes because she just gets too excited (I know this is why she does it because I asked).  Of course she gets a lecture because running away could get her kidnapped(she's adorable and her curly hair makes her a huge target), but I understand that she isn't trying to be difficult, she's just practicing for track try outs.  A friend of mine actually helped me embrace this particular personality trait.

She' s a natural born athlete.

She is so smart!  Brisa recently learned how to say a few words more clearly and she is pretty proud of herself.  For example: Yellow used to be "lellow"
"Yellow.  I can say yellow!?  I can say yellow!!!"
Candy cane used to be candy candy
"Where's my candy cane?  Hey I said candy cane!!"
She also thinks she can say restaurant and now home cooking is beneath her
"We need to eat at a restranaut, Mommy.  I can say restranaut."

She talks like a little adult!
Me: "Brisa we have to go, Daddy is already waiting for us with Santa, please come down here and get your shoes on"
Pea: "Daddy and Santa are waiting for us?  Oh Crap!"
I just see it as another word she has learned to use (flawlessy) and I tried not to laugh as I told her she wasn't allowed to say it anymore.

She also likes to critique my home making skills:
"Mommy, when you see the clothes you need to hang them up.  You didn't clean them up, you were just sleeping, but you need to clean up, it's your job Mommy!"

"Aww.  Potatoes again, We just had those the other day!  *sigh* you need to try harder Mom"

"Oh no!!  The counters are a mess Moooom!  you hafta clean them up!  Its your job Mama!"

She might have a touch of OCD.  She organizes everything by colors and has a total melt down if you try to put her to bed without cleaning every inch of her room isn't clean.  While its hard sometimes, like when she's asleep in the car as we drive home late and then wakes up during the transfer and we have to clean her room at midnight.  All we want to do is sleep, but her yelling "I can't sleep, my room is a dirty, mess!  We hafta clean it!!" kinda keeps us up.  At least I don't have one of those kids who refuses to clean their room, that sounds rough.  Maybe that will be Carson, who knows.

She also is very in touch with her emotions and is able to tell me exactly how she feels and why.  I love that I can ask her why she is crying and she will give me a whole back story about how daddy told her no, but she wanted to anyway and he said she would get time out, but she didn't stop and then she got time out and it made her sad.

She's got style!  She dresses herself everyday and while sometimes I get nervous people will think I actually dress her in head to toe purple I love that she knows what she likes.  And now I know that she loves purple and that she would appreciate a new pair of purple pants.

Purple lady.

Runway ready

She is the best daughter ever.  Sometimes Chad and I just sit up at night talking about all the funny things Brisa said and did that day.  Like the time she started a vicious pregnancy rumor about me by telling her nursery teachers that I was going to have a baby girl.  Such a prankster.

If at first you don't succeed... break the engine and start over?

So as I mentioned in my last post, our car has recently gone under the wrench and emerged looking 5 years younger.  I thought while writing the last post that the car saga was over, I thought wrong, in fact I have never been so wrong in all my years of being wrong, and I am wrong a lot just ask Chad.  So to preface this I would just like to say that we thought our car was acting funny when we first moved here, but when we took it into the shop they couldn't figure it out and sent us on our way. Now for a little recap:

One Sunday morning our car wouldn't start and we were forced to walk to church, that was over a month ago.  Into the shop it went, to a Pep Boys that I can only assume is full of drunks wielding wrenches.  At first everything was on the up and up, they found a couple things and fixed them up (after a few tries, buying the right parts is tricky), and while they were doing that they noticed that our timing belt could use replacing.  Thanks boys, we wouldn't want that to break, that could have destroyed our whole engine!  Crisis averted.  While they were changing out the timing belt they accidentally dented something and so that had to be replaced, so they got that fixed up in a jiffy started her up, and oops, two pistons collided.  Turns out they didn't put the timing belt on wrong and basically destroyed our engine.  So in an effort to save our car they sent our engine away to be repaired at a specialty shop.  That took a week.  When they got the engine back they tried to put it back in, but didn't have the right gear (buying the right parts is really REALLY hard) at this point they decided to get us a rental car, it had been a week and a half after all and we had been very understanding and that kind of behavior should be rewarded.
So we had a rental car, a Tahoe, it was huge, we could barely fit it in our garage.  Finally we got word that our engine had been successful installed in our car.  Great!  Unfortunately it was still broken.  Not so great.  But since they broke it they were kind enough to replace it with a newer one at no cost to us!  So generous, no really, they thought they were being generous.

"We got the new engine in and its running great!"
"Yay!"
"Also your engine coolant had a leak, we fixed it up free of charge."
"Aww, you guys!"
"So, we kinda spilled oil on one of the belts."
*good feeling gone*

  So they sent it home anyway and it made the most awful screeching noise that you have ever heard in your life.  "Just drive it" they said "it will dry out" they said.  At this point we had returned our rental car and were completely unsatisfied with our car so off to the Chevrolet dealership we went.  We picked up a Malibu that I have been waiting months to own and all was right in the world, until we had to drive the Santa Fe home screeching all the way.  So on Monday morning our dear sweet Santa Fe went back in to the shop.  They replaced the belt, hooked up the wiper fluid that they forgot the first time (oops) and pronounced our battery dead.

"Hey, aren't car batteries supposed to last longer than 3 years?"
"Ya, but sometimes sitting for a long time can drain a battery"
"Oh, like if a car was sitting in a shop without an engine for 4 weeks?"
"Ummm... We already replaced the belt free of charge, we wont cover the battery"
"Seems fair, I mean you already replaced the engine you broke and the belt you ruined, what reasonable person would expect you to replace the battery you killed too? Nah, we'll pay for it."

So it was done, all fixed and ready to go!  While Santa was away at the spa for her month long vacation, her registration expired.  Here in Utah cars have to pass a safety and emissions test.  Our car had just been in the shop for over a month, so we were feeling pretty confident, they could't possibly find ANOTHER problem, Could they?  They could!!  Our coolant hose was leaking (of course it was, pep boys "fixed" it) and our front axles had to be replaced (unrelated issue, but I still blame Pep Boys.) So we took our sweet Santa Fe to a shop that was less peppy and full of trained MEN!  It went in on a Friday and was ready to be picked up on Monday.

"I got your car all fixed up and it will be ready on Monday"
"Great!  A week from Monday!
"No, Monday..."
"You mean Monday a month from now right?"
"Monday, like three days from now."
"Is 4 weeks not a standard time frame for car repairs?"

So today we are officially done with all of our car repairs (well except for the cruise control that mysteriously stopped working) , and officially really really broke, just in time for the holidays!