The myth of the perfect baby

Well, it's that time of year again, the holiday season.  Yay.  I love the holidays (note the massive sarcasm there).  I don't look forward to them, in fact I can't wait until they are over.  I can't stand the fact that they are all about how much money you can spend, especially considering I never have any.  As always I get to start this season off with a fucking bang.  My dog had puppies about 2 weeks ago (12 days to be exact) and as much as I KNOW I'm a terrible pet owner for not having them fixed yet, shit happens and now I have to suck it up and deal with it. Seven of them, and the best thing I can say is that at least she didn't have them in the middle of the night and all of them lived. Moving on, holidays starting with a bang, but not that it matters because no one ever comes here anyway so I could have a zillion puppies and no one would know about it.  I'm not sure why exactly, I guess I give off a "don't come to my house" kind

I'm what they call a "kitchen witch", meaning I keep most of my witchy supplies in my kitchen.  I do keep a rubbermaid type box of some supplies in my bedroom though, with a few special items that don't normally go in a kitchen, like bags of stones and crystals, my altar cloth and my tarot decks.  My dumb huge dog knocked the box over a few days ago and I had just pushed it back into it's spot and threw the lid back on loose thinking I'd put it right next time I thought about it.  That was this morning.  One thing I keep in there, and I'm not sure why, is a memory box I was given when I was discharged from the hospital in 2004.  That box contains what little I have of MacKenzie Zane, my lost angel.  He was born extremely premature, just shy of what the hospital he was delivered at considered viable. My water broke, and although it was a long and excruciating labor and it is a very long and painful story to tell, I can not tell it now.  Needless to say, I

Yeah, I know I have them a lot.  I had this whole post started like a week ago about my beautiful daughter, but I can't seem to get it right.  I just am not doing her or our story any justice so I have that on hold and have just decided to start anew today.  I'm desperately trying to put my shit together and it's just not working.  I'm very much missing my friend, who I don't believe I've mentioned here before.  He's a wonderful man I met on the internet.  Odd, I know, you generally don't meet normal people online, but this guy is a gem.  I don't get to talk to him nearly as often as I'd like to and he's about the only voice of reason in my insane world because he's objective.  He doesn't know my family from anyone, but is always able to give me good advice, even when it's to kick me in the ass and tell me that I need to get over myself.  I'm also missing my sister in law who is not my sister in law.  Strange story I guess

Yeah, so I feel like a fucking loser again today.  I don't want to leave my room.  The best description I have is that I want to go home and I have no home to go to.  This doesn't feel like home.  It just feels like somewhere I'm staying.  I don't want to cook in that tiny little kitchen with my grandmother's things that I might god for fucking bid ruin or break.  Glass things break here all the time.  Skeptics be warned, you can believe me or not, I don't give a shit, but this house is haunted.  Or I am, I don't know which (or should it be witch, lol?).  These dark feelings creep up on me so quickly it's scary sometimes.  I think they need to up my meds.  In all seriousness though, this whole not feeling at home here thing really sucks.  I want to be able to feel like I'm home here.  I used to feel that way.  I pretty much grew up in this house, so it's almost painful to me that I feel so unwelcome here.  I'm not even 100% sure which ghost

I totally admit it, I have a flair for the dramatic.  Most people already know this about me I imagine.  Or maybe not.  I don't know.  Anyway, I feel better than I did the last time I posted I guess.  Not by a fuck of a lot, but I'm trying.  If I don't force myself to be "normal" to a degree I'll just lay here and die and I can't do that to my kids so I'm putting effort into not being depressed. In all truth I DO have a few reasons that I might be depressed though, so it's not like I just woke up one day and went "hmmm, I think I'll just whack out for no reason". Moving on, Max and I have been growing and creating left and right, I don't have too many pics of such things but I'll tell you a few.  We have some black coleus that just sprouted, I'll post pics as soon as you can tell what they are.  We've been trying to be in the pool a bit more :)  The water is too cold for my liking this end of the summer but next su

I don't know who I am today.  I know that sounds cryptic and strange, but I don't.  I know I'm someone's mother, I know I'm someone's wife, and I know I'm someone's daughter but beyond that I have no idea who "I" am.  I used to be pretty, I used to be funny, I used to be happy, I used to be someone.  I used to be able to go places and do things.  I used to be... I don't know when it changed exactly or who I turned into.  I'm not sure what caused it all.  I'm not even sure I know what to call it.  I do know I haven't left my bedroom to do more than go to the bathroom since day before yesterday.  I didn't even go downstairs yesterday.  I haven't yet today either.  It's tense here.  There is friction I can't explain.  There has been so much grief in this last year that maybe that's it, I don't know.  If it weren't for my husband, my kids would have starved to death the last little while because I don

I figured that I would post a tutorial here because I've been doing all kinds of fun shit.  Sewing mostly, but my 6 year old wanted some bath crayons and we had all the stuff here. First we took a plain bar of ivory soap and grated it up. Then we added about a half a cup of hot water. My six year old didn't want to get his hands "icky" so I tried to stir with a spoon but it didn't work very well so I had to knead it with my hands. His favorite color of the day is orange, so we added a few drops of red food coloring and a few drops of yellow.  I mixed it again and got it ready to put in the muffin tin. It made about 6 muffin tin shaped crayons because we couldn't find the cookie cutters and frankly, I didn't give a crap what shape they were since they'll end up all over my shower walls anyway. The instructional that I have says that it takes 2 days to dry, but I have them on my patio that's about 106 degrees right now so I'm pretty

So in the wake of all the death and dismay I have a confession to make.  Those of you that know me in real life know that I'm a rather functional addict.  Some of you may not be aware to what extent. Many years ago I was in a car accident that not only shattered ALL of my teeth, it broke my c4 vertebrae.  At the time (being as vain as I am) I was more concerned with my teeth than my neck.  Fast forward a few years and I started having chronic pain.  Headaches so severe that I could not function.  I was able to get something called facet joint injections that managed that pain for many years but I got pregnant with my 6 year old and had to stop them. Before I stopped nursing  him (at 22 months old) I was diagnosed with cardiomyopathy.  I am no longer able to get the injections so I have turned to opiates.  I started out about a year ago, shortly after the baby was born, on regular vicodin but it didn't even take the edge off so my pain management dr put my up a dose on norco

Well, I find myself in another difficult place.  Kinda reminds me of an old "Friends" episode where Chandler puts one hand up on either side of his head and says "Rock, hard place, ME!".  My cousin, who I'm not at all close to, is going off to college in a month.  My uncle and he decided to take one last camping trip before Danny left and I've come to another moment in my life where I just don't know what the fuck to feel. They were on their way up north to a favorite campsite when there was a tire blowout.  They went down a 500 foot ravine.  My cousin has what the paper described as "minor to moderate injuries" that in reality are more like severe including broken vertebrae and a head laceration that required them to cut off the dreadlocks he'd been growing for years.  My uncle was not as lucky, if you can even call it that.  He died on the way to the hospital or shortly after he arrived from what I understand. So far in 2012, I've

OMG it's summer.  For those of you who do not live in my area, you may not understand the depth of that statement.  Last week it was up in the 100's and fortunately it's a little cooler this week, but I got my electric bill.  I am sorely reminded that this house is bigger and older than I am used to.  Frankly, it needs new windows because we are air conditioning the outside too!  I seem to have a newly developed issue with heat and can identify a variation of less than a degree.  I'm exaggerating, but really, I feel almost menopausal.  If I wasn't lactating I'd wonder if I was indeed in menopause.  Anyway, it's fucking hot here.  My mom runs the A/C all the time but it's still hot upstairs.  Project o'the day is to put a window A/C unit in my room.  I hope R doesn't fuck it up too bad. In the meantime I am sweating balls and blogging to keep from hovering.  I thought I'd share a pic of Memphis' birthday cake and all it's glory.  H

I was sitting on a surgical bed being sewn back together after my youngest son was brutally ripped from my womb and my fertility was forever destroyed.  I know that sounds very dramatic, but in truth that's exactly how I feel.  See, even though I've suffered through severe morning sickness, PSD (some painful pregnancy related shit that makes your pelvis feel like it's shattered), and loss, I love being pregnant.  I don't know why really, I just do.  For some reason today I feel almost as if I'm mourning my fertility still. A year ago right now, all I cared about was that he was breathing on his own, the ramifications of the tubal ligation were beyond my thoughts at the time and now they are a prominent feature of my being.  I feel almost less of a woman because I can no longer reproduce.  I had no business having Memphis anyway, but I would have another if I could still get pregnant.  I suppose it's a great thing I can't.  If I was healthy I'd have 10

I didn't realize how much I'm like my mother until today.  After spending all day every day with her over the last week I have caught myself using her facial expressions, her mannerisms and even my voice sounds like her.  I don't understand how it happened!  One day I was me, the next I'm morphing into her.  I've also realized I'm in the anger stage of grief with my grandmother.  Now, keep in mind I never finished grieving my step dad, who I didn't get along with the last few years but I know he loved me the best way he could.  In the process of cleaning out his room and the other areas of the house I've found countless items I know were meant for me.  Quite a few meant for my kids as well.  I really think that he was so angry at me getting pregnant with Memphis because he was scared they'd lose me and he loved me too much.  In the depths of this house I've found treasures for all of us except him.  Even R has found a few things we know were me

It really does.  I hate it, I really do.  It's a horrible thing for sure.  It's even worse when you're not moving into an empty house.  This house was packed full of shit for the last 40 years and it's been hell getting it out of here.  I'm glad I married a saint when it comes to putting up with my family! We've been going through so much shit here and trying to move at the same time and wouldn't you know it?  My van broke down.  We just paid the fucking thing off and it's broken down.  I don't even know for sure what's wrong with it, but the possibilities are all out of my realm of being fixed for I don't know how long.  Yay :\ So I doubt I'll have my van back for a while.  It's a really good thing my mom has a car!  It's a piece of shit and it's small, but it'll get me to the doctor. Well, the baby is up from his nap, and I'm off to go be the boobs of the family again, until next time... J

Well, I got my dog back :)  I had to drive 45 miles away to Mojave to get her, but she's home.  The little prick that had her started to get a little rude to my old man, but he just glared at him and the boy shut up.  She about ran off from the people as soon as she saw me though and came bounding up to me to lick my face.  When we got back home, it was evident that Bear had missed her terribly and they had to go outside and play for half an hour or so.  I'm glad to have my doggy back and it'll be a long time before I have faith in people to be honest.  I'm still not sure what they were thinking or why they begged me for her back only to try to rid themselves of her.  She's a very good dog (with the exception of the cat shit eating habit she has) and I will be forever grateful to my hubby that he got her back for me.  Here she is as my feet in her spot on the ottoman...happy to be home! I'm still moving, or should I say I'm still watching the baby while

Well, in the midst of moving I decided the number of pets we have is too many.  In an attempt to remedy this situation, I relieved myself of the cat that shits on my pillows, I think I've found a home for the rats (providing the people actually show up this afternoon) and my black pit bull mix went back to the people we got her from.  I love that dog.  She's an amazing dog, she loves my baby, loves me, follows me everywhere.  On Saturday, the people emailed me telling me that they missed her, and thought they made a mistake 6 months ago when they gave her to me.  We talked about it and since I haven't gotten her fixed or anything, we decided that maybe she'd be better off with them.  So imagine my dismay when I was browsing through Craigslist and found an ad for her.  They decided they weren't going to keep her and rather than offer her back to me, they just put an ad there and I guess thought I'd never know.  I'm not a horrible pet owner.  Yes, I love t

So I must apologize for my lack of posting!  It's been a long week, lol.  My daughter turned 18, and I got the pleasure (sarcasm) of discovering that my lovely ex, her sperm donor petitioned the state to cease her support.  Even though she's 18, she still lives at home and has not finished high school.  Normally, support would be continued if the child was still in school, but he petitioned out of it.  Top that off with the fact that he didn't pay last weeks support or the week before and she is pissed.  She feels like he was just itching to get rid of his obligation.  Poor kid.  It's a good thing she's got her real dad here to make up for it.  I also had a massive cervical spine migraine that lasted 3 days, that shit was tons of fun.  It's pretty much subsided with just a few symptoms hanging on.  Unfortunately there is nothing besides drugs to be done.  I like drugs :)  Moving on, and speaking of moving, we've got some of the house ready and a ton left

"Once upon a midnight dreary, While I pondered weak and weary, O'er a many quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore..." Edgar Allen Poe is one of my favorite poets, so that's going by memory (gods forbid without google!) forgive me if it failed by a few words. When I moved into this house, barely over a year ago, I was shocked by the amount of ravens in the neighborhood.  It doesn't bother me, I love animals.  Then one morning when my Bear dog was still just a pup of a thing she went about nuts barking at something.  It was a fledgling raven that  had fallen from a nest in my giant pine tree in my backyard.  We took a broom handle and put it back in the branches and that was that.  That same raven still visits us, and sits in the tree in the front when it's quiet. Three days ago, we noticed another baby raven.  This one's a bit younger, a bit less ready to  have left it's nest, but there it was on the ground.  I don't like to touch them

If you got here from facebook, you already know I am Lois right?  Let me explain.  I'm semi obsessed with the tv show Family Guy.  Way back when, my little family WAS family guy!  I was Lois, my husband was Peter, and we had Meg, Chris and Stewie. I am Lois the screen name was born from that.  I was honestly a little surprised when facebook let me change my official name on my personal page to Lois Griffin.  So, when you see me on other sites with the name Lois, it's just an alter ego if you will.  My real name is kind of unusual, so I rather enjoy having a "normal" name. Moving on :)  I have a lovely silly pic of my very pregnant Bear dog.  We think she's due the first of June or so.  Her babies have been kicking up a storm lately and Max thought it was pretty cool. On an entirely different subject, I caught a picture of Memphis taking a few steps.  I wasn't quick enough to get it on video, but I still wanted to share it here! It's also officia

First things first, let me say that I apologize to anyone that feels that monetized blogs are bad and not to be taken seriously.  My previous blogging forum did not offer that option and I didn't realize that doing that would make people view this blog as anything but what it is.  I truly was not out to get rich, I don't even know the password to my AdSense account, I just thought if it was monetized I might get more readers.  Ok, done with that part. What is it REALLY like to breastfeed a toddler?  Well, mr peanuts is not quite a year yet, but I guess he's less of an infant and more of a toddler at this point since he does walk (almost always holding on to something but not because he really needs to, just because that's what young early walkers do).  He's a climber.  He dislikes most baby food and tends to puke up most adult food still.  He has a few things he really likes but he gets so damn gassy!  So, he still at 10 months old nurses about a dozen times a day

Yeah, I went there, I all capped that shit AND I used a buttload of punctuation :) But yeah, so uh, happy mother's day.  I'll tell you about mine. I was up at 3 am listening to the barking fucking chihuahua next door.  Little shit woke the baby up because my dogs couldn't help themselves but to bark back and well, Bear is quite loud.  So R comes wanting to know if I want a "back rub".  I'd guess most of you know what that means.  No honey, my tit is busy soothing mr peanuts back to sleep, sex is the last thing on my mind.  Eventually, after several rounds of twinkle twinkle I got to go back to sleep. At 7 (normal wake up for mr peanuts is about 8) we're up again.  Raring to go, peanuts climbs on top of me and proceeds to puke all over my shirt.  At least it wasn't on the bed.  I change and we head out to the rest of the house to start the day.  I got the big boys up, Mik (the oldest and only girl) was at my mom's so she probably got to sleep, b

The Time cover is all over the net lately.  I was really inspired by the whole thing.  WTF though with the "are you mom enough" shit?  I've had 4 kids, 3 of which I was able to breastfeed and the one I couldn't I pumped for 4 months until I went back to work and my boobs couldn't keep up.  My oldest, I had zero support, and when I was constantly being told I was starving her to death, I caved and switched to formula.  But that was after 5 months of nothing but boobs.  So anyway, at some point today I WILL be taking a picture like that cover, and I will be posting it for all to see. ***Edit to add this pic, this is the closest thing I've gotten so far and it's really not very close, but funny none the less*** I really enjoy the fact that I can nurse my babies.  When my oldest son was born, we'd had no idea he would have a cleft lip/palate.  It was such a shock and it spiraled me into a depression that I was not able to hold him and nurse him.  But

So, my big Bear dog is pregnant.  I know, I'm a horrible pet owner, but that heat just snuck up on me before I got the funds together to get her fixed.  As it turns out my little chiweenie Rocco is indeed old enough now to knock her up.  I've had cats have kittens before, but I've never dealt with a pregnant dog.  Cats are so cool about it, they just act totally normal and then when it's time they hide in a closet and you wake up to cute fluffy little kittens.  I ended up last time keeping 2 and that's why I have 6 cats.  Not really though, lol, those cats are about 4 years old now and my youngest kitties are just barely a year and I'm not sure how old but we think about 9 months or so.   So back to the topic at hand.  She's a good dog, albeit not very well trained, but good personality.  She's got a wonderful knack of letting me know before I have a blood pressure spike or go tachycardic (both happen a little more than I care to admit, but are things

So I made hot dogs for dinner with a new (to me) propane grill that I was gifted and I didn't want to feed mr peanuts all those nitrates and salt and crap.  I decided that I'd at least feed one kid something healthy.   So I got out my tiny little Paula Dean (sp?) pan and concocted a lentil slush for him.  He normally doesn't like purees at all so I wasn't 100% sure he's actually eat it but I have a pregnant dog so I knew that SOMEONE would and it would be ok.  I took a couple of frozen asparagus stalks, a handful of baby carrots, and a half a cup of so of lentils and cooked it all together with a spoonful of coconut oil for fats.  It smelled good.  Earthy and yummy smelling.  I got out the immersion blender and mushed that crap up.  It looked like diarrhea.  I tasted it, and it was fucking nasty.  Smelled like it'd be good, but to me it wasn't.   It was SOOOOOO bland!!!  I put some garlic powder in it and it tasted better though.  Thing was, mr peanuts had

Well, as much as it may embarrass him I have to admit that teenage boys STINK.  Like I don't even know how he stands himself.  The fucker is the hairiest kid I've ever seen since my brother was that age.  He is such a great guy that it's hard for me to find faults beyond the average teenage boy crap.  So my plan of attack is this...I'm going to make him some all natural deodorant that he can apply um, well, other places than just his armpits, since I'm pretty sure it's not just his armpits that stink.  Since I don't have much else to talk about today (bad pain day again :( )  I thought I'd share the recipe and when he's tried it for a few days, I'll post our "results" lol. 1/8 cup baking soda 1/8 cup cornstarch 2-3 tablespoons coconut oil 3-5 drops essential oil of your choice (I have lavender on hand so we'll use that) melt the coconut oil and mix together all ingredients.  you can use an old stick deodorant container to app

  When I was pregnant with mr peanuts, I had every intention of exclusively cloth diapering the little fella.  So I ordered a "starter set" of pre folds and figured after the meconium stage was over I'd make the switch.  Well, I'd been gifted a shit ton of newborn pampers so I had to use those up.   Along about the time he was 8 weeks or so we were finally out of pampers so I got out the cloth to prep and prepped away.  I thought I knew what I was doing, I really did.  I was wrong.  From the get go I was unhappy with my choice, and more importantly HE was unhappy.  He almost immediately got a red butt because he pees about every 10 seconds and was ALWAYS wet.   I had only gotten 2 dozen so after the first day I realized diapering a newborn in cloth very well may not be cost efficient in Los Angeles county with the cost of water.  Anyway, moving on.  They were so fucking bulky, the poor kid couldn't close his legs at all and it rubbed his umbilical hernia so mu

  Well, if you've read this far, not only will I say a big THANK YOU, but you probably know I'm a weirdo.  I'm also unhealthier than the average bear.  I'm having a bad day, and stress exacerbates any symptoms I have and frankly, I have a shit ton of stress lately (go figure).   Mr peanuts happens to be still teething, trying to cut that second bottom tooth out AND he's decided that baby jail is a no go for him.  He won't stay in a crib/playyard or walker/bouncer for more than about 10 minutes before he freaks out.  I'm not one for the whole cry it out deal, so when I  hear him cry I freak out too.    I'm down to my last pain pill and I hurt :( Lol I figure I can feel sorry for myself a little, I've had a bad week.  I'm still trying to recover from the fight I had with my damn near adult daughter over the stupid cat that shit on my bed...again.  Yes, you read that right, again.  Damn thing's done it twice before and normally I don't l

  Well, it's another day, and really I wish that I could turn back the clock a bit.  My grandmother passed away on Weds, and I'm still in shock.  That situation was very strange, I don't even know where to begin.    My mom and step father had a very rocky marriage for the most part.  He dealt with some pretty major mental illness and my mom did the best she could but there were times he was off his meds and they could not be together.    One of those times about 10 or so years ago, she moved in with my Gram.  The house has been owned by my Gram since it was built in '62 so it's where my mom finished growing up.  My Gram could afford to live alone, but in the area we live, my mom couldn't find anything she could afford on her own so she moved in there.    Anyhoo...eventually, they got back together and she moved her husband in with them.  So it's my Gram's house, but my mom and step dad lived there as kind of like room mates.  My step dad died new y

  After Memphis was born, I was tired all the time.  I couldn't get a handle on it at all.  I really figured it was just new born lack of sleep and nursing and all that good shit.  Well, it wasn't.  Around the middle of September or so I went in for my post partum echo (ultrasound of my heart to determine function).    The results were absolutely the opposite of what everyone had hoped.  I'd made it through the pregnancy just fine, but the stress of the delivery and recovery was too much for my body to handle.  I was in end stage heart failure with and ejection fraction of less than 20%.  I could not walk to the bathroom without being out of breath, but I had honestly thought I was just tired.     Never even crossed my mind that my ticker had gone so bad because I didn't feel much worse than I had at the start of my cardiac issues.  I needed a bi vent pacemaker put in.  I'll let you google that shit here because to explain that whole deal is just more than I can

  The drive to the hospital was surreal, traffic was light, we didn't talk much.  I have no idea what we listened to on the radio, in fact, all I really remember looking back is that I couldn't get my mind off of the little being I was getting ready to meet that day.  I was contracting mildly, in a very steady but not very painful rhythm.  At that point I wasn't worried about being in labor, I knew I had plenty of time.    We checked in really rather easily, there was no one in the waiting areas and within just a few minutes they had me in the back getting my admitting papers done.  A woman came to talk to me about cord blood banking.  We were extremely fortunate to be able to take advantage of a program they have in that hospital in which we could donate half and the other half they would store for us for free.  Otherwise, there is no way we could have afforded to bank it.  We took care of that paperwork too.  Because of my genetic condition, they will not use his cord b

  When I left off, I had just found out about mr peanuts.  It was quite an interesting ride, let me tell you!  He is absolutely amazing, but I'll get to that part later.  I got a referral to see an ob/gyn and made my appt.  I went to the appt expecting to have a normal intake type thing and get my schedule.  I knew I'd be high risk, but I guess I had no idea how high risk I'd be.  When I gave them my past medical, the nurse was rather stunned looking and at the end of the appt tells me she'll run my case by the dr to see if he accepts me.  Well guess what?  He didn't.    Turns out no one in my hobunk hillbilly hell town in bumblefuck california would take me.  Not a damn one.  I should mention I'm only about 80 miles away from LA at this point I guess.  I got to 16 weeks before my insurance could find a dr willing to take my case.  She is in LA...and wouldn't deliver me here.  I honestly don't remember if I mentioned the speed with which my middle son

  When I left off last time, I was just coming home with my ICD.  I recovered rather well, but one thing that sucked was not being able to lift my left arm above shoulder height for 3 months.  Quite difficult when you have a 2 year old LOL!  So over the course of the next year, I learned everything I could about cardiac issues.  Learned what was available at the time about Brugada.  Learned some horrible statistics that led me to believe I wouldn't last more than a few more years.    As time went on, and son #2 grew bigger, I got better.   At one point, my ejection fraction (the force with which your heart pumps blood out) was normal.  Almost unheard of with the ef I had before diagnosis.  I also had all my kids checked.  EKG only though, I am still unwilling to subject them to eps until they are older.  My daughter will be 18 in May, so I would like her to have one soon, but she is resistant.  Anyway, I also became kind of a professional patient.  It seemed like all I did was ta