Because you’ve started asking, yes, I’m still here. Tired. Overwhelmed. Sometimes sad, sometimes better, sometimes even doing well. Sometimes scared, sometimes just exhausted. Doing well with working (all of three hours a day), forgot how much I love teaching, forgot how natural it feels, but also forgot how much work it is, how much energy it takes. Sammy loves Eli – they have a great time together, which makes me feel better leaving them in the morning.
The days are flying. Months are flying. I don’t do well when I feel like time is going too fast. I need to stop reading heart blogs, can’t stop reading heart blogs. I hate not knowing what the future holds. On the brink of tears most of the time. Dreading his cardiology appointment next month, knowing it sets the ball rolling to his next surgery.
One day I imagine I’ll feel normal again. I used to be so much stronger. In the meantime, I feel like I’m just getting through, one day at a time, trying to control something, anything, because I know I don’t have control over the one thing I so deeply wish I did. I think a lot about how much it all just sucks. And then I tell myself – we have it so much easier, so much better than some families. We didn’t have a lot of the problems others families had. We still have our son with us. A family just lost their son, post-Fontan. He was doing great, and then out of the blue – pneumonia. And that was it. I don’t have the language to express just how cruel that is – they made it through the surgeries, and then pneumonia? What the f*ck?
I know nothing is a given, for any of us, but if one more person tells me that I need to live in the moment, I might lose my shit completely. It’s pretty damned easy to say that when you don’t have an open-heart surgery on your child hanging over your head, when you’re faced with visions of what he’s going to go through. I keep giving myself permission not to think about what they’re going to do to my sweet, sweet son, but it’s hard not to sometimes. And that commercial with the woman talking about how her daughter cut her finger, and then the doctor said it was INFECTED? Oh no! Not an infected cut in her finger! It makes me want to throw things. Hard.
I’m angry and sad and just want time to stay right here, right now, or speed up to where he’s four and he’s okay and we’re all okay again. He’s just such an awesome, incredible little boy and things like this should never, ever happen to kids, to babies. He should not have to go what he has to. It’s not right, it’s not fair.
So yeah. Sometimes it’s just easier not to say anything at all, because then you get a post like this.

I’m almost hesitant to post this – I don’t want to jinx a thing – but I’ve gotten a slew of emails from you mamas and daddies wanting to know how the switch to the big boy bed went.
It seems to have been the way to go.
First night in the bed – getting him down was a struggle, but it usually is. Slept from 9 to 5, woke up for water, brought him into our room and slept until 7.
Two nights ago – went down easy at 8. Slept until 2, wanted water, snuggled with him in his bed, was out cold in about 10 minutes (and so was I). Snuck off back to my own bed about 1/2 hour later, and he slept – are you ready for this? – until 8 am. This kid has a internal alarm clock that rings – seriously – at 6:58 am every morning. It’s bizarre how he knows that it’s 7.
Last night – he practically put himself to sleep in the bed, but that’s because he had one 15-minute nap all day. Slept until I startled him with the closet door at 10, and then slept through until 7 am this morning, when he got up, drank some water on his own and then started playing until he heard me behind the door. Jay said the bottle was in his bed this morning, which means he may have gotten up in the middle of the night and gotten water on his own instead of crying for one of us to hand the bottle to him.
He seems to do much better because in some weird way, he seems to have more room, even though the mattress is the same exact mattress. He loves climbing up on it with a book and seems to enjoy vegging out on it. There was no fight or struggle or crying for his crib at all – I don’t think he even noticed. And the best part? While we love snuggling with him in our bed, bringing him in in the middle of the night was disruptive for all of us. Now, we can snuggle with him in his bed until he falls back asleep and then creep back into our own room. Good stuff.
Those of you considering it – it’s worth a shot! And if it doesn’t work right now, you can just put the crib back for a while. I’m not sure how we knew Sammy was ready, we just knew the crib wasn’t working anymore – it never really did for us, and really, we needed to try something!
Next step – move those naps from the swing to the bed… though we’ll probably wait until we’re in a routine with Eli before we try that.

We’ve been talking about moving Sammy to a big boy bed for a few weeks now. It just seems like the logical next step, and he’s never really taken to his crib anyway, preferring to sleep with us or in his swing next to our bed. And while we love having him with us, it’d be nice to see more than 4 hours of sleep at a clip.
So this morning, because we didn’t have anything better to do and we like to take on more projects than we should, we took the front off Sammy’s crib to convert it to a “big boy bed” – and then realized that none of the typical bed rails work on conversion cribs. Oops. And the rail that matches his crib was a special order that would take 10-12 weeks. Yeah – not so much. So we poked around craigslist (have I told you how much I luuuuuuurv craigslist?) and at 5pm, just hours before bedtime, bought him a fun practically-new fire truck bed for about a quarter of the price of a brand new one. The conversation went like this: “I know you’ve got the bed listed for $$, but will you take $ if we come get it RIGHT NOW?” So while Jay went and picked it up, Jay’s mom and I cleaned up Sammy’s room and childproofed it a bit more – because, well, now Sammy can get up and wander around his room in the middle of the night. Eek.
Wish us luck!

Slight change in plans. Well, a very potential slight change in plans. Okay, a very potential major change in plans.
No school for Sammy. I couldn’t do it. I took him for a trial run on Thursday and had a complete meltdown. He’s too small and I just don’t want to leave him and I spent the whole time watching him and crying. Yes – the whole time. He did great until snacktime, playing with the kids, holding hands, rolling around on the mats, just being a little kid. I snuck off around a corner for a while, and when they came out for snack, all I could hear was him flipping out, “Mamamamama! I go! I go! Mama! ALL DONE! I GO! MAMAMAMA!” So I scooped him up and we went. I know that maybe I didn’t give it enough of a chance, but I believe that anything that goes so strongly against a mother’s instinct just can’t be the right thing to do.
So… we’re going the nanny route, with the “nanny” being a girl I’ve known since the teen center days. She was always a strong, mature young woman – and she’s really grown into a bright, responsible, creative, interesting young adult. I loved spending time with her at the center, and I’m excited that she’s going to be a part of our lives again in such an important role. When I brought him down to meet her after his nap yesterday, I asked him to say hi to her. Instead, he leaned over and wanted her to take him from me. A good sign, no?
I think she’ll be good for Sammy, and I feel so much better knowing he’ll be in a familiar setting each day. (Then if he freaks out, he’ll at least be in a familiar place with his things.) It’ll make the mornings easier because if he’s still eating breakfast in his pjs when she shows up, so what? And really, I should be home in time for lunch. I can handle it – there for breakfast and hopefully lunch and just gone for a few hours between. Of course, my stomach still flips and I want to cry at the thought of it, but I know it’ll get easier. I feel a thousand times better about this already.
And you know what I love the most about all of this? Before she left, she said to me, “You know I’ll be sending you pictures of him all morning. I know how important that is to you.” So insightful and caring! Yay!
We’re just waiting on her school schedule and if everything jives, she’ll be watching Sammy at our house while I’m at work. We’re holding on to our place at the school for a few more days just to be certain, but I know in my heart I’m just not ready to leave him somewhere. I’m excited that Eli (hi Eli!) is excited to help us with Sammy, I’m grateful Jay’s been so supportive while we figure out what’s going to make me comfortable and I’m looking forward to watching Sammy interact with Eli over the next few weeks. I’m already planning regular playdates in the afternoons for the socialization we wanted him to get at school. I think this will be good for all of us. I hope.

No rabies!
How my conversation with the vet tech went:
Me: Hi, I’m calling about a bat that was sent for rabies testing.
Vet tech: Hold on, let me check.
…
Vet tech: It’s negative.
Me: No rabies?
Vet tech: Negative. No rabies.
Me: And that was the bat under the name M*****.
Vet tech: Yes.
Me: So the bat sent out with the name M**** came back no rabies.
Vet tech: Yes.
Me: Yes, it had rabies, or no, it came back no rabies.
Vet tech: No rabies, m’am.
Me: Ok, it’s safe to let my cats out?
Vet tech: Yes. The bat did not have rabies, so your cats do not have rabies.
Me: Ok. So let’s just get through this one more time. The bat sent out with the name M**** came back no rabies. You checked the name, right? So my cats don’t have rabies? They’re okay around my small child then?
Honestly, I would have hung up on me by this point.
They can’t get the cats in for vaccinations until next Monday, but you better bet your butt, those vaccinations are NEVER going to lapse again.
A-freakin’-men.

Me: You’re going to go to school soon.
Sammy: Schoo?
Me: Yup. And you’re going to have teachers and make friends.
Sammy: An pay? (And play)
Clearly, he’s been listening as I’ve been talking up school the past few days. We go in tomorrow for an “ease-into-school” visit. We’ll do a couple of these over the next few weeks. I think they’re more for me than for him anyway.
The vet better call soon with the rabies results, because between that and thinking about Sammy going to school and me going back to work – well, my anxiety level is all the way up and I swear, if someone even looks at me the wrong way, I might burst into tears.

We are:

• taking down the pool (Jay)

• building railings around the current deck (Jay)
• filling in where the pool was, landscaping & making more room for Sammy to play (Jay)
• sanding down the doorways and built-ins (me)
• repainting doorways and built-ins (me)
• repainting the kitchen (me)

One of my biggest complaints about this house has been the lack of yard for Sammy to play in (well, that and our ghetto backyard-parking neighbors). Jay has spent all summer trying to get the pool swimmable, and it’s just been one huge pain in the ass.
This means we won’t likely be in as huge of a rush to move as we have been. We’ve got a few years before Sammy will be old enough for the local school district. The market is still kind of crappy, and it gives us a bit more time to get in a better place to buy a better house (since we didn’t likely make all too much on this house, given the current state of the market). It also means we can build a little brick patio and Jay can finally use the chiminea I got him for his birthday. And we’ll have a big enough yard to build snowbabies with Sammy this winter!
I wanted to sand down the built-ins to the original wood, but they’ve done so much crap to this house that who knows what the state of that wood is anymore. And since we’re working through Sammy’s naps and at night, we’ve got to work with what we’ve got… so it looks like I’ve got a few dates with Kilz 2 primer and some white paint (and my painter overalls – woo hoo!).
And – I’m VERY much looking forward to a “cottage green” kitchen. It’ll be a nice change. Then after that, maybe we’ll actually get around to painting the upstairs hallway… In the meantime, we need to sell the filter we bought brand-spankin’ new last summer and maybe find a small swingset for Sammy.

I’m not discussing the bat incident beyond this, because I get too upset: Sammy was checked out by the ped on Saturday and had nothing that indicated a bite of any sort. The cats are locked in a room by themselves and not the least bit happy about it. Their 3-year vaccs turned out to be only 1 year vaccs, so there’s a problem, especially since apparently one or both of them ripped into the bat pretty good. We hope to hear back about the rabies test by Tuesday. We’ll go from there.
On a lighter note – all you parents out there, I’ve got a question for you. When did you transition your toddler to a “big kid” bed and why? Sammy does well in his crib, but it feels like the time to switch over is creeping up on us. He’ll be napping on mats at school and yesterday he crawled onto our friends’ daughter’s nap-mattress on the floor and cozied up like he was going to go to sleep. Sure, he still naps in his swing, but we’re trying to break him of that, and maybe a “big boy” bed is the way to go.
So – when did you switch and why? Anything special we should take into consideration and/or any tips?
Thanks moochly.

Ready for the “because we don’t have enough stress in our lives” story of the night?
Our cats killed a bat. In the house.
And there’s that whole bats-rabies thing.
And oh yeah, our cats haven’t had their vaccinations since before Sammy was born because oh, I don’t know – they’re 100% indoor cats and we’ve been a tad bit preoccupied?
We don’t know who did the killing (or really, maiming – it seems to have kicked the bucket about an hour after the attack). We were in the living room with a sleeping Sammy when we heard this awful squeal and Max took off for the stairs. When we went to investigate, the bat was on one step with Princess on the step above it and Max on the step below it, both looking at it inquisitively. We’re not sure if Princess caught it on the stairs or if Max caught it in the foyer by Sammy’s toys and carried up the stairs, but either way – there it was, fairly lifeless and potentially rabid.
Jay scooped it up with a stiff newspaper and dumped it into a vase. I had my momentary sobfest for the poor little creature (because I absolutely adore bats), and then reality sunk in – my cats could have rabies.
My cats could have rabies.
And it’s all my fault. Why didn’t I have them vaccinated?!?
(Oh yeah, they’re 100% indoor cats and we’ve been a tad bit preoccupied. Now it’s very clear that that’s no excuse.)
And while Sammy was nowhere near the bats or the cats (who are now quarantined), I’m terrified that something could happen to him. And I’m having awful visions of shots to his tummy, because he hasn’t been through enough. But what if it was in the house while he napped? What about the fact that it was potentially on the carpet near his toys? Do I throw out all those toys? How to I clean the carpet where it was? What if he was bit while he was playing earlier and we just didn’t know? Some sites I read said you could be bit and not know it. Ugh ugh ugh. Make my brain stop.
But it gets worse – now the imagination runs amok. Is my (sudden onset) headache a result of a bite I don’t remember getting because the bat’s been in the house for days and we just haven’t seen it and now I have rabies? (Or is it simply because I’ve been clenching my jaw for the past two hours?) I’m telling you, I am not the person to have around in a situation like this. I’ve already mentally cleared our calendar for Monday and have figured out the weekend calls to the pediatrician and doctors. Seriously.
What has happened: we have a call in to Animal Control (actually, it’s in at the police station who put it in to Animal Control, who is apparently out on a dog bite call). We’ll get a call sometime tonight, they’ll come take the bat from his final resting place in the vase (and the poor, beautiful wedding-gift vase will never see the light of day again) and test it for rabies and we’ll know in 24-48 hours what the next steps will be.
Pray that the poor thing simply wandered through a hole somewhere and came face to face in an unfair match against two cats who are surprisingly good at the attack thing, having never spent any real amount of time outside. Please – send “no rabies” vibes to our house, because if it comes back positive and we’re faced with all sorts of scary and unhappy things like shots and putting the cats down, I might go to a happy place far away in my brain and refuse to come back.
(Edited: Jay seems to think that the cats got a series of two rabies shots – some sort of “super shot” making them vaccinated for 4-5 years, which means that they’re okay. I vaguely remember this as well. I can’t find the paperwork, but we can call the vet in the morning. This sucks.)

I don’t get parents who smoke. Hell, I don’t get people who smoke, but parents? Seriously, people – it’s not like you can feign ignorance when it comes to what smoking does to your body and to those around you. And even if you claim not to smoke around your child, why the hell would you willingly choose to do something that could result in cancer? What kind of parent would want their child to go through that – especially if you have some control over it? And please, I don’t care if we’re out in open air, if a child is in your general area, for crying out loud – be a little conscientious as to where you’re blowing that smoke.
I also don’t get parents who schmooze to get their kid into the “right” preschool with the expectation that they’ll get into the “right” private school and then the “right” college. Ummm, how about the “right for your child” preschool instead?
And those people who have kids because socially, it’s the expected next step after marriage – regardless of whether or not they want one? And then are shocked to find out that their lives aren’t about them anymore?
Even better – people who have one kid, and it’s obvious that the kid is in the way of their lives, AND THEN THEY HAVE ANOTHER. Because, well, it’s just what you do, right? What the F@#$ is up with that? Sorry, if your favorite time of day is dropping your kid off at school for 8-10 hours and getting on with “your” life, you might want to reconsider why you’re having another.
And really, folks, your twelve year old daughter does NOT need to shop at Victoria’s Secret. And while it might make you feel sexy to think that the skeevy 60 year old guy behind you is checking out forty-year-old ass through your thong – you should probably realize he’s checking out your daughter instead. How about some proper role modeling here folks?
People. Seriously.