This is the third time I've tried to start a post over the last few days. I sit here and stare at the keyboard waiting for the words to come. I've even managed to write a few words, but the words just seem...off somehow and never quite capture what I want to say.

But the problem is that I don't really know what I want to say. I just know that when I see my previous attempts, they weren't it. I'm not really sure why.

I don't think I am feeling especially down either. I'm just blah. Not good, not bad.

This week brought with it ovulation and now the two week wait. I hate this time. Sometimes, and I am slightly embarrassed to admit this, I just wonder why I should even bother to have sex. Well, that is not true. I can actually enjoy things until I get to right around time when I should be ovulating and once again about a week before my period. To have sex during ovulation just sends the rest of the month in the funky state of what if that ends with a no. How contrary is it to NOT want to have sex when I know I'm ovulating? Sigh. When we don't have sex during ovulation, there is no wondering. I know the answer and I move on. When we do, well, you know how it gets.

But we do, and then I wonder and drive myself crazy with that hope that always manages to sneak in and hurt me. Stupid hope.

Let's see, how did today go? Well...

• I got peed on just as I was about to leave for work this morning. Of course, the pee was strategically placed to not just soil my shirt but also my pants. I haven't been peed on in months. Apparently I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing. Or Ja.son was just in a pissy mood. No pun intended.
• Got to work just as school started. (technically, I was a tiny bit late) Had to walk right past my boss to get to my room. I gave him an evil glare and dared him to say something to me. He had the good sense to just smile and walk quickly away.
• The boys' physical therapist told me today that she is 19 weeks pregnant. Great. It should be fun watching her expand right in front of me. (I like her, and I am genuinely happy for her. Still, I'd rather not have to see her all the time.)
• Plus she brought up again to have Sh.awn start seeing CCS instead of Early Intervention. Sigh.
• I had no less than ten people tell me that the octuplet woman reminded them of me. Um. Why? I have only 2 babies people. Yes, at times it may seem like eight, but trust me when I say it's not.
• I get observed tomorrow. It is just a formality and all,, but I always get nervous when this type of thing comes around. Bleh.
• My head hurts, I O tonight (or last night), and I am just not into it.

Sigh.

Yesterday was again spent laying in bed all day--you know I am feeling sick when I call in for a sub. I hate calling in for a sub. Anyway, I think the time sleeping was well spent as I am feeling a lot better today. Of course, I went to work and subjected myself to a whole host of new germs, but that is beside the point.

---

I finally got in touch with the surgery coordinator for the urologist today. We've been playing one hell of a game of phone tag (she is off work by 3 pm every day and off on Fridays). Anyway, Sh.awn's hernia repair is scheduled for next Thursday the 5th, at 7:30 am. We have to be at the hospital at the inhumane hour of 5:30 am. His surgery will be up first, and if all goes as well as expected, we should be back at our house by 2. I am in denial about this surgery actually happening. I mean, I know it's coming, but I am doing a pretty good job of pretending it isn't. Think I've finally cracked? Probably.

Actually, the month of February isn't shaping up to be all that great if you want to know the truth. It begins with the boys' eye appointments (which will most likely tell us that Ja.son will also need surgery to correct his eyes), moves on to the surgery for Sh.awn, includes a wonderful visit with the OB to hopefully figure out what is up with my tubes and get me a referral to the RE, adds in the one year anniversary of the school incident on the 12th (and the media issues that will likely follow), and ends with a neurologist visit. Fun times. The only saving grace so far is the four day president's weekend. Bleh. Can we just skip this month, please?

---

Today, my boys once again shocked me. They've been pretty reluctant to eat foods other than the stage 3 baby foods. Foods with texture might be okay while they are on the tongue, but the second they get anywhere near the actual throat area, gagging and puking often ensue. Well, that is maybe a slight exaggeration, but you get my drift. The only thing I can get them to eat regularly that would qualify as "real" food (and I do use that term loosely) is the Ger.ber finger foods. But tonight? Tonight they did this...

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

The boys who won't eat apples, because, you know, the chunks are too big, decided that today they'd have pieces of grilled cheese sandwich on sourdough bread. Shawn had around three bites while Jason had about a fourth of a sandwich!

I nearly fell off my chair!

I can't wait to kiss those stupid jars of baby food goodbye!!!!

Whoa

Woman delivered octuplets in California today. All the babies are alive. The story is here.

Whoa is all I can find to say right now.

On This Day In History...

One year ago today, our little Sh.awn Bon came home from the hospital for the very first time. It seems like just a blink ago...the time does really fly by when you're having fun!

Sh.awn, you are one tough little boy, and you continually amaze me each and every day. I am so happy that you are our son.

Happy Homecoming Day, Sh.awn!

Sorry for the Silence

Friday, I was feeling a little more tired than usual.

Yesterday I woke up to a scratchy throat and stuffy head. It wasn't a good sign, especially because I was getting ready to set out on an eight hour field trip with 50 thirteen and fourteen year olds to a los ang.eles college women's basketball game. (which, frankly it is SAD to see how few people were there to watch) The trip went fairly well, minus the twenty minute search for two little knuckleheads who wandered away and the thirty minute trip to the concession stand a mere half an hour after they ate lunch, but as the day wore on I felt worse and worse.

Today, I officially feel like crap. So much so that I had to call my mom and beg her to watch the boys yet again. All I want to do is close my eyes and sleep the day away.

I'll be back to catch up on everyone as soon as I am feeling better.

100 Words

This has been on a few blogs that I've read over the last few weeks. (found on luna's and Anna's blogs among others, I'm sure) The challenge: Describe your entire life in a single paragraph of 100 words. No more than 100 and no less than 100. It must be exactly 100 words.

Grew up a tomboy until I embraced my feminine side and became a cheerleader. Met my quarterback husband as juniors, got married years later, and tried to have a family. Found out that baby making for us meant getting to know way too many doctors–well. Many tears and disappointments later, I was blessed with two beautiful boys born much too early. I love being a mommy (still trying for another) and watching my boys grow, inspiring me with their strength and determination. Gaining peace and confidence every day, I keep working toward being the best me I can be.

Give it a try. It's harder than it looks, especially when you have a lot to say (like I apparently do). Don't forget to let me know if you try this yourself!

P.S. Here's a word counter to help you out. :-)

Fortune

My fortune cookie from tonight's dinner said, "All your sorrows will vanish."

That would be nice. Bring it on, I say. Bring it on.

It's raining here tonight. The weather has cooled some, too, from the 80 degree temps we've had for over a week. (I was HEAVEN for the last several days, let me tell you.) I can't wait to get in my big comfy bed, pull the covers up to my chin, be lulled to sleep by the sound of rain, and dream about a world without sorrows. Ahhh...

Tag, You're It!

I was tagged by Maya to write ten things about myself. You'd think this would be easy, but I have already told you all of the interesting stuff here and here!

Ten (more) Random Things About Me:

1. I am completely challenged when it comes to identifying the word verification codes people put on their blogs. I swear that sometimes it takes me two or three times before I get it right. It is especially bad if the writing is in cursive. It is so frustrating for me that I have refused to put the word verification setting on my own blog. I hate it that much. (please tell me there are others out there who have this challenge!)
2. I bought myself a Wii three nights ago (we have one at my mom's house already), but have not taken it out of the box. I am afraid that nothing will ever get done if I do. I think I might have a Wii problem. (Damn that stupid bowling game where you have to knock down all of the stupid pins. I can't seem to get a strike on the frame with the 98 pins. Ugh!)
3. I eat all of the chocolate off of peanut M&Ms and then throw the peanut away. I have no idea why. (I am aware that this is in direct conflict with my love of peanut butter.)
4. I don't like my toes. My second toe is crooked. It's a genetic thing. I know this because both my boys have the same funky toe. If I didn't mind my toes so much, I'd take a picture of it. But I do. So I won't. I do not own a single pair of open toed shoes because of it. (I know I am a nut.) I used to fantasize about having my toes straightened out via plastic surgery until I realized that would most likely include breaking my toes. Um. I think not. Isn't that what closed toed shoes are for?
5. Telling me I can't or to not do something is a sure fire way to ensure that I do it. It is strange. I get obsessed about that thing until I prove I can do it (sometimes over and over again until I do it "right"). Can't get pregnant? Oh, yea? Watch me. I get obsessed. See? I am sick. Perhaps this explains the Wii problem, too?
6. I played the violin for five years when I was younger. Hated it. I wanted to play the flute, but the music teacher told me some nonsense about how my lips weren't right and how about the violin because I have such nice, long fingers. Can't play a note now. Well, I could probably play a note, but you wouldn't want to hear it. I still have my violin, though.
7. Is.aac plucked several gray hairs out of my head the other night. That didn't bother me near as much as when I found two gray hairs a little further south. I cried when I found those. Not sure why. You'd think I'd be more worried about the ones people see. Apparently not. I am officially old.
8. I am excited about Lost starting tomorrow night. I have to admit, though, that I have no freaking idea what is happening a lot of the time. If it wasn't for those shows with the captions, I'd be lost on Lost. Hehe. But I can recite the numbers that keep haunting Hurley. :-)
9. I do not like anyone touching my nose. Ever. But once, Is.aac nearly lost his life because he stuck a grape in my nose. Yes. You read that right. He knew my nose was off limits, and because of that, was quite fascinated with it. He still always tells me how small it is and junk like that. Anyway, he was holding a tiny grape in his hand and the question popped into his head about whether it would fit in my nose or not. It did. He will never live that down. Never. Especially because he did it in front of my mother. (she was very impressed with how cool I stayed throughout the whole thing. I didn't even panic when the grape wouldn't just come right on out after it was in there.) I just told Is.aac I was writing this and he is now reliving the moment. "Like they were made for each other," was the comment he just said. Excuse me while I go smack him.
10. Ok. I am back. I sleep with a blanket I've had since I was a teenager. I love that thing. It is warm and fluffy and soft. Ahh... Is.aac does not get to share it either. It is all mine. That's what he gets for the grape incident. :-)

Now I am supposed to pass this on to 7 bloggers. Yikes. Okay. I tag Neenie, Kim, Louise, Cathy, Trish, Shannon, Christy, and anyone else who wants to play!

My Family from WiddlyTinks.com

This world can be so cruel to me sometimes.

Why is it that they recall the very food that is currently bringing me sooooo much pleasure? Why is it that the recall comes AFTER I have indulged in said forbidden goods for the last week? More importantly, why can't I just get rid of the culprit and be done with it? And why do I crave it so much more now that I can't have it?

I am weak that is why. Plus, I have decided that I have already ate enough to kill an ox, so finishing off the package won't do much more harm than it already has. (if I was so lucky to have bought a tainted one--hm. with my luck, that isn't so far out there, is it?)

Fam.ous Am.os peanut butter cookies, I will miss you...

Hodgepodge

Thanks for delurking, everyone! It is nice to know there are so many of you out there! For those of you who are new to me, I hope to get to know you better over the next few weeks. My goal is to visit all of your blogs, so I can support you like you supported me! For those of you who have supported me through some of the toughest times of my life...I thank you again and again. You are like the sisters I never had but always wanted. Much love to you all!

---

I am finally feeling better. Isn't is lost on me that my mood started to change for the better just after I started my period, either. I don't know if this round of funk was brought on by some strange hormonal shift or what, but I have been bleeding like crazy and have broken out in head to toe hives. Let's just say that it isn't fun to feel like you want to scratch your skin off your body while visiting the toilet every freaking minute.

---

I am having trouble getting Sh.awn to drink liquids. He won't take more than 2-3 ounces from his bottle at a time and flat out refuses his sippy cup. His poor mouth is speckled with new little teeth (all four uppers plus eye teeth and two bottom teeth), so I know that has to be a major part of the issue. We're talking he isn't getting more than 10 ounces on some days. I've tried everything I can think of over the last several days, but nothing is working. I am really worried he's going to dehydrate and land himself in the hospital. (Oh, God, please no.)

---

Thursday was our fourth month of helmet hell. We went in for a growth check/helmet adjustment. I left feeling the same way that I always do, angry. Sigh.

Ja.son's head has grown 1/8 of an inch this last month giving us a whopping total of 3/8 of an inch for the entire 4 month period. That's it. That means we still have a ways to go to get his head shape within "normal" range.

Of course I ask how much longer Ja.son will have to be in the helmet. (asked while I am daydreaming of pitching the stupid thing out the window on the way home) The answers are always vague without any definites. I don't handle that well. I am a planner. I need estimations, if-then statements, and goals--take that away from me, and you lose my support. Support that is barely hanging on by a thread at this point if you want to know the truth. So, I had to come home to research, answer the questions for myself, and hopefully renew my enthusiasm for this treatment.

Here's what I found:

The whole reason Ja.son is wearing the helmet in the first place is because his cephalic ratio (the width of his head divided by the length of his head) is below the normal range. The ideal cephalic ratio is 78% with the normal range between 73%-83%. Ja.son's ratio was at 60% when he first got his helmet, which characterizes his head shape as severe.

Now his ratio is at 66%.

My goal is to get him as close to the 73% as possible, while keeping in mind that I will be satisfied with near that ratio as long as I feel his head shape is decent. (I admit that this will be tough to keep objective when I didn't really see a problem with his head originally.)

By my calculations, if his head continues to grow at the same rate it has grown so far, it should take him 4 more months!

Holy cow. I. Don't. Know. If. I. Can. Take. It. For. That. Much. Longer.

Seriously.

I mean, I am all for the round head thing and all, but wearing that sucker for 23 hours a day (and we really do follow that pretty closely even though he is never wearing it in pictures--I just try to take the pictures when he has it off) is getting very old. His head is always sweaty and smells like stinky feet. He head butts you with the helmet. The stupid velcro strap on the back of it has sliced my face more times than I can count now. And I just miss being able to kiss the top of his sweet little head.

Sigh.

*Fortunately, the growth has increased the width of his head while the length hasn't increased much. It's grown 1/16 of an inch to be exact, but I think that was just due to the different techs measuring his head and not so much due to actual growth.

---

Why is my husband grating on my every last nerve? He's sitting on the couch next to me, and all I can think of doing is smacking the snot out of him. Jeez. All he's doing is breathing. I'll admit it is loud breathing, but still. WTF?

---

Thank goodness Monday is a holiday for us. Yea.

---

I have been paranoid that everyone I know is reading this blog because my friend Jen found it because of a careless mistake on my part. (but I really am okay with you reading, Jen) I got a phishing email about another person I know looking for me on Twitter which freaked me. I went over there and took my url link off of it. A while later I had calmed enough to realize that there is no way for this irl person to have found my Twitter account unless she had already been here, so I put it back up.

WTF. Who cares if people know how I am really feeling. Maybe it will help me. Maybe it will just make me go crazy.

---

Now it's time for some celebrating...

A big congrats to docgrumbles on the birth of little JAG! She's beautiful!

Congrats to Mel for winning the Weblog Award for the best medical/health blog!

Happy Birthday to Neenie!

Last, but not least,

Happy Due Date Birthday

Sh.awn and Ja.son!

Now you're 1 year old adjusted! Mommy loves you very, very much!

Time to De-Lurk

Jen (a dear friend from real life), I admit to freaking out. Not about you reading, but I can't believe I slipped and left my sign on name on the other blog. I have tried to be so careful. Sigh.

Maybe it isn't really all that bad that you've seen I am not perfect. (I'll admit I am pretty good at making it seem that way, though.) Let's face it, I have a looooong way to go to reach perfection.

My only request is that, um, you just not tell anyone else that we know about this place? I don't want to feel like I need to edit myself because all kinds of people from real life know about this place.

But, I can't help to wonder if there are any others who have found this blog through my little slip up. Is that paranoid? Probably.

ANYWAY, I think it is time for me to partake in the de-lurking fest that has been happening all over the blogosphere. Come out, come out, whoever you are...let me know who's reading. Yes, you! Pretty please. Would you be so kind to drop a little line letting me know a little about you?

Even if I know you in real life.

Most especially if I know you in real life!

Still here. Still feeling the funk, although it is slightly better.

More than anything, I'd like to reach through the screen and hug every one of you who has left me a comment. Your words were so loving and supportive. I totally cried through each and every one--and a good cry was definitely in order, I think! (the whole scene got me some strange looks from Is.aac and a 20 question session earlier this evening) While I know what you say is true in my mind, the old battered heart is taking a little longer to see the light. It will get there, eventually. Until then, I'll just continue to work through these feelings as they come.

So to you, dear readers, a huge thank you from the bottom of my heart. For the time being, I won't be publishing the kind comments you've left for the general public. I think I'd like to keep them private between just you and me. I'll probably read them a few more times before the funk lifts itself this time, too.

I am so thankful to have found you guys!

----

In case your wondering, still no period; slight brown spotting yesterday, but nothing today. Still intermittent crampy feelings. Went to go get a pregnancy test to put myself out of my misery only to find that they lock them up now. They didn't do that the last time I went looking for them. Anyway, not wanting to involve yet another person in my reproductive life, I went home without the tests.

I figured the episode must have been a sign that this was a no go and I needed to save my money.

Well, I am still in a pretty intense funk, which has reared its ugly head out of no where and won't go away. My husband hasn't said it directly, but I think I'm being a bitch. I mean when even I think I was a bitch, I probably was. The boys have frustrated me to no end today, too, and that rarely happens. I've pretty much wanted to hide away in my bedroom all day.

Still no period. Not quite as crampy. No more blood. Damn that hope. Go away.

I have been very cruel to myself this weekend, and I can't quite get myself to stop either. I need to step away from the internet. Seriously.

My new pastime has been to peruse a few (or a lot of) high order multiple blogs. I am fascinated by how long they were able to stay pregnant. Was it longer than me? Was it shorter? If so, were there any complications? For your information, there are a lot of blogs out there about lives lived happily ever after. No brain bleeds. Sets of three, four, and five babies born at 32+ weeks. Everyone is developing "normally."

I kick myself over and over again because these other women were able to carry more babies and I sucked at carrying two. And what the fuck am I thinking that I want to try to carry another set of twins? What am I doing thinking about getting pregnant with even one?

Then it occurred to me that if I was pregnant, I haven't even had a chance to talk to my OB about what that would mean. Blood thinners again? Cerclage? Peri? My first OB appointment since my 6 week check-up isn't until next month.

I'll check myself with the knowledge that I don't get pregnant without the help of a room full of scientists, so there really is no hurry to figure all of that out. The idea of getting pregnant on our own is laughable, really. Hahahahaha.

Too bad it doesn't feel funny.

Sigh.

Obviously the feelings of inadequacy and guilt are still around. Every time I think I have finally managed to put those thoughts to rest, sometimes for weeks and weeks on end, they come back with a vengeance and suck me right back down.

We have another anniversary of sorts coming up next week. The 16th will mark the boys' due date. They'll be a year adjusted now. It scares me that we are not exactly acting like 1 year olds yet. No cruising while holding on to the couch. No pulling themselves up at every opportunity. Shit, Ja.son still refuses to crawl on all fours, even though he is perfectly capable. Sh.awn is just learning to sit, while babies 5 months old have already mastered that skill. Until now, I have been fairly good at calming myself when the boys don't hit actual age milestones. It's okay, I'd think, they aren't quite that age yet. I've relied on that adjusted age like a crutch.

And now?

Now that crutch isn't holding me up so well anymore.

Is It Time For Bed Yet?

Today has been quite the day. I am ready to be over, but I've still got a good 5-6 hours left. Sigh.

It started out that I was asked to give my opinion on whether a 14 year old (and her birthday was today) girl may have PPD. I believe that she clearly does. The baby is three months old, but she's been back in school for a little over a month now. The counselor, who has no children and said she didn't really know a lot about it, was talking to her and listening to the girl describe her feelings. The counselor called me up (because she knew that I was depressed after the boys) and asked me to come talk to her, too. It wasn't fun. Anyway, in the end, after I told them what I thought, the counselor had contacted her case worker and helped to get her enrolled in the local teen parenting program that she had been avoiding. The case worker was going to work on getting her into her OB to discuss the PPD as well.

People. She is only 14. What kind of life is that baby going to live? Apparently the girl's mom and grandmother do most of the care taking of the baby, but still. It makes me incredibly sad.

Why is it easy for her to get pregnant and have a baby, when there are so many more people ready and willing to have a baby but can't? Yours truly is among them.

It isn't fair.

Aside from that fun, I've been feeling crappy all day long. I think I am going to start my period again. It has only been 19 days since I last had it. Bitch. Stay away already.

(tmi alert) I spotted a bright dot of red blood yesterday when I wiped. There was no indication of any other blood--I will admit that I checked. Got sort of excited, you know by thinking implantation and all. It would make sense, too, seeing how we had sex on New Year's Eve-cycle day 10. (and sadly, that was it for the fertile week) But, today I have felt heavy and bloated and like shit--and no, not like I'm pregnant shit. It is just a matter of time before I start, which now makes me nervous because that would make two very short cycles of 20 days in a row. I haven't yet, of course, because we can't just get it over with, we have to leave the slightest little room for hope. Bleh. I hate hope sometimes.

Then I get home to find the surgery coordinator has called and is already wanting to schedule Sh.awn's hernia surgery. I called her back only to find that she left for the day. Now I'll have to think about it all freaking weekend long.

Plus I am worried about Ja.son's eyes. They're still crossing at different times throughout the day. When we went to the opthamologist, he said that if the glasses didn't clear it up, we'd have to have surgery to correct them. We have until February 3. It isn't clearing up. So guess what that will mean. I am starting to think the boys are surgery junkies. Why does it always end in surgery?!!? Fuck!

That would make surgery number 14 for them.

Crap. I still have 5-6 hours before bed.

---

ETA -- and I am still freezing at work.

Why I Need Seat Warmers In My Car

I am, by nature, a pretty cold person. Wearing sweat pants, thick socks, and a sweatshirt while I am under a fluffy blanket is most likely how you'll find me on any given night. (It's even better when I am using my warm little laptop!) Shoot, you'd find me like that on many days, too.

I live in California for a reason people, and it isn't to go to the beach, which is too cold of course. I live here because the weather is usually pretty consistent--mostly in the low 70's. And, even though it might be 73 degrees outside, I am still in my sweatshirt under a blanket. Still freezing.

That's why my closet is full of jackets.

That's why my car HAD to have seat warmers.

That is why I have a freaking down comforter on my bed.

That is why every single place that could possibly hold my ass for the slightest minute has a blanket next to it or on it.

Seriously, it is that bad.

But, today? Today it was 39 degrees outside when I got up (late) to get ready for work. It is so rude to make me get up out of bed in the freaking cold. Rude, I tell you! (ah, I wish it wasn't too late to call in a sub--I so wanted to stay home)

I layered myself like crazy with even a scarf before heading out. Ever see that part of A Christmas Story where the mom piles the jackets onto the little brother? Yeah. I looked like that.

By the time I had reached my car, it had warmed to 44 degrees. (I love that my car has a temp gauge!)

I sucked it up and headed into work anyway.

To find when I got there that I had no heat in my classroom.

At all.

The temp in the room said 56 degrees. I swear I saw my breath when I exhaled. There were icicles hanging from my dripping nose.

My classroom never got warm the whole day. At lunch, my hands were practically blue. It was miserable.

Someone in the office was tired of my constant complaining took pity on my sorry butt during the last period of the day. I was brought the tiniest little space heater imaginable. I promptly plugged that sucker in right next to me and never moved from that spot until I could finally leave school. The kids could have been building bombs in the back of the room for all I cared during that moment were busy working on their grammar. I was in pure heaven and finally had some feeling back in my fingers!

What can I say? I am clearly a wimp.

And I'm making sure to take every one of our space heaters to work with me tomorrow. Just in case.

Let's Celebrate Ja.son!

It's Ja.son's turn for a little celebration. This is one of the things he'll say on command...

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

(So sweet! Couldn't you just eat him all up?)

The boys are in their PT/OT contraband, which they are not supposed to use because the jumpers tighten their leg muscles.

I do it anyway, but for some reason I feel like I have to hide the jumpers before the therapists come! :-) Jeez, I feel like we're breaking the law or something!

Show and Tell -- Celebrate Sh.awn!

One of my New Year's Resolutions is to celebrate the achievements of my boys. So, for today's Show and Tell, I'd like to present my little guy, Sh.awn, sitting up on his own! I am so very proud of him.

Those of you who may be new here might not be overly impressed with a 14 month old boy sitting up (holy cow, 14 months old!), but let me tell you that my little Sh.awn Bon has been through more in his year of life than most people have EVER been through.

He has shown his strength and determination each and every day. He is a fighter. He is a miracle.

And I love him.

So, let's celebrate the first achievement of the new year!

Hm. A new book. Let's have a looksy.

Good Night Moon is pretty good, mommy!

Doesn't the look on his face say something like, "What's all the fuss about, mom?"

Find more show and tell posts here!

---

As a little aside, I have posted that we are having teething fun. I think Sh.awn is working on 4 - 5 teeth right now (better late than never).

I strongly suspect that Sh.awn may have hereditary supernumerary teeth. Now that I see how they are growing, I am thinking that at least three of his front teeth will eventually be diagnosed as such. One bottom tooth looks to be okay, but really the only way to tell is through x-rays, and we're not considering doing that for a while.

Anyway, the condition comes from my dad's side of the family. Dad didn't have them, but several of his eleven siblings did, and my oldest brother had three sets of canine teeth. (the one that shares a birth date with the boys. he was always the odd one, too!) I did not have supernumerary teeth either.

We shall see if it does end up that Sh.awn has them, although my intuition is telling me yes. If he does, we will just wait and see what they do over the next several months. It may mean some extra time at the dentist in the long run. Doesn't that sound fun?

Can't we just have a boring, non-eventful life here? Is that too much to ask? Jeez.

More teething = no sleep. Sh.awn this time.

Shudder.

Think I use Tylenol too often when the boys open up like little birds at the sight of the dropper?

He Did It!

Sh.awn did it! He sat up by himself for over two minutes last night! Yea!!!!

This might seem like it is pretty late considering he is just over 11 months adjusted. But if you believe, like I do, that his slate was wiped clean back in May, making him start all over, it is perfect timing. Steady progress is all I ever wanted for him. AND HE'S FREAKING DOING THAT!

Way to go, baby boy! A perfect way to start the new year.



Take that fucking neurosurgeon.

Our Year...

I apologize in advance for its length, but if you can believe it, I did edit myself quite a bit. The problem is that I swear I must have thousands of pictures to chose from! Jeez. I've been working on this thing for waaaay too long.

Hope you enjoy.

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Happy New Year Glitter Pictures

On this day in 2007, I miscarried my first pregnancy.

I could never forget you, little one.

I just needed to get that out.