Monday, October 28, 2013

C'mon Man!

I LOVE FOOTBALL. 
(I also LOVE baseball - baseball IS my first love...) 

I guess I just love sports in general. I will watch whatever Golf Tournament is on TV and catch the day's highlights - especially if Tiger's playing. Regardless of his antics, he brings something to that sport that no one else brings. Competition.  I can watch the last 40 laps of a NASCAR race and undoubtedly route for Dale Jr. (I don't care what y'all think).  I bought a specific type of cable TV brand so that I could watch every single Detroit Tiger's game (162 + post-season).

But football, football brings a certain Sunday flair. (Or Saturday. Or Monday. And now Thursday nights too, if you have NFL network).  It means Fall, and chili, and comfy hoodies and jeans. Its the Lions and Packers on Thanksgiving, I love Thanksgiving. 

I desperately wanted a boy at first because I wanted Football Fridays (in high school) and Maumee Little League baseball games at Ford Field. I thought that because of my tom-boyish nature that I wouldn't know how to raise a little girl. 

I was watching CBS News this morning.  They did a piece on the lack of women's rights in Saudi Arabia and portrayed how women are punished, beaten and jailed for just wanting the right to drive a vehicle.  They interviewed a man who when asked how he felt about women having the right to drive, replied "I think its unnecessary! What would they do if they got a flat tire?!"

I was blown away. Is the world still FLAT? It made me terribly sad that I have a little girl who is still going to grow up in a World where in this day and age, there are still men who think women cant figure out how to change a tire (OR at least call a tow company to come change it)! Or think for themselves. Or make the same amount of money as they do - or in Saudi Arabia, even be allowed to have a job or an education at all!



So, now that I have a little girl, I hope she gets to have a little sister.  And I hope they play sports with the boys. And get dirty. And drive cars. And watch football. And drink beer, someday if they want to. If they want to be ballerinas or cheerleaders or football kickers - DO IT.


This goes for my girl(s) and my niece(s) and all little girls. I hope you try things. Be daring. Be strong. You are capable. 




"Scout" the Slugger


(Duchess, I will support you, no matter what.)


Monday, October 21, 2013

Baby Gibberish

The Duchess is now nearly 4 months old.  And over the last several maybe 4-5 days, she has been just talking away. Baby gibberish has to be the cutest damn thing I have ever heard. I am convinced that if I could understand her, she would have the answer to this whole mess with Congress.  She is also tracing me as I walk by her, she smiles incessantly and I don't think I have ever in my life seen a more beautiful toothless person.  
Go Tigers!
Recently, a very close friend of mine lost his father suddenly.  The family is a Maumee staple and their father even coached my softball team one year.  Another year, his middle daughter who, I graduated High School with (and a very good friend of mine to this day) tried to throw me out at third base leaving a very nice scar after eight stitches.  He was a truck driver for UPS, a member of the union and married to his wife for 36 years. There were hundreds of people at the showing. 

 Duchess and I stopped up to give my friend, his mother, and sisters, a big hug.  What do you say to people you've known most of your life, when something like this happens? The same thing the hundreds of other people have told them for the last week -- "Your father was a great guy." My heart just aches for them.  

Summer 2007
My friend wanted to introduce Duchess to his mother, who hadn't yet met her.  I waited with my friend for a few minutes while she finished her conversation with some of the other attendees, then walked up to say hello and express how sorry I was.  Looking very tired and heartbroken, his mother noticed right away that this was my new addition and she perked up a bit.  And then it happened.  Duchess in all her glory, looked right at my friend's mother and smiled the biggest toothless grin and laughed at her. As if to say, "I came here to try to cheer you up!" I think his mom really appreciated it and he even shed a smile for a minute.  She made sure to tell me that this is the really fun part, and to make sure I enjoy it.  I don't know if its selfish to think this or not, but after leaving I felt a little bit better.  That maybe, just maybe for 30 seconds, my baby brought some joy to those poor people.  

Mrs. Wampler, I will do my very best to enjoy it. And I will think of you and your family often. 

Friday, October 18, 2013

The Duchess of Crestwood makes her royal debut.


Emerson Rose came into my life on July 4, 2013. Yes, she's a little "firecracker". Yes, she has a full head of dark hair. And, yes, she's seems very long and will probably be tall. (Can you tell we hear that a lot?)  My pregnancy mirrored that of Prince William and Kate's, we were even in the hospital on the same exact day for severe morning sickness.  The Prince, whom I've adored since I was a kid, (we are the same age you know!) said it best -- "They shouldn't call it morning sickness, when it's actually ALL DAY AND NIGHT SICKNESS!" Seriously, that's a true story. I spent the whole day in the hospital hooked up to fluids because I literally couldn't keep anything down. Do you know what is worse than having morning sickness all day everyday? Getting the FLU on top of it... Yea. That happened to me... I have never missed so much work in all my life. But the nickname for my little addition was then set, as all nicknames for baby bumps in this family are given by my Mother (Bo, Chocolate Bunny, and The Duchess). Thanks, Mom.

Once I got past my first trimester, they say its smoother sailing. HA HA HA. Not for me... I was diagnosed with placenta praevia. Which is a semi-rare condition, in which the placenta sits low in the uterus - making it difficult for the baby to be born naturally because it blocks the exit door! (Sheesh. This can't get much worse can it? Oh, it can...)   My doctor told me that mine was not as serious as it could be and as I grew bigger, the placenta may act as a balloon and possibly move out of the way. So, that was actually something to be thankful for with my ever-expanding waste-line.

This is kind of what it looks like. (Thanks, Wikipedia.)
Placta prv.jpg


I was placed on bed rest until further notice. No nothing of any sort.... But, I needed to work and after 3 weeks or so, I coerced my doctor into allowing me back to work. I mean, for crying out loud, the hardest part of my day is the 2nd story walk-up. I sit at a desk and type all day... its not like I spend 16 hrs a day loading a truck or on the line at Jeep.

Things were actually going swimmingly for a while after that. I feeling much better, working everyday and getting the house ready for the new addition.  And then at 28 Weeks, I had an accident (who me??).  I got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, obviously in the dark, and tripped over LuLu, my dog.


Tallulah Belle

I fell belly-first into the four-poster of my bed. Yikes. I was shaken but baby kind of kicked me back as if to say "Hey?! What the hell dude, I was sleeping!" I let the dog out, peed and went back to bed, not thinking anything of it.  I got up and went to work as usual. It wasn't until around 2:30 p.m. that I started not feeling... right.  I called my Doctor's Office fully expecting that they would just have me come in to be checked out - no harm, no foul. Boy, was I wrong. I was told to leave work, go straight to Toledo Hospital do not pass go. Do not collect $200.00. They told me when I got there that I was contracting every 2 mins. This was NOT good.  I had a battery of tests done over 5 days determining that I had an abruption somewhere, and that if I fully abrupted after leaving the hospital Emerson might die.

I was put on bed rest for the entirety of the pregnancy. Its was a long haul. I've been fully (overly) employed and/or going to school at the same time since I was 14.  I was NOT ready to be a bum for 3 months. Sitting around getting rounder and not contributing to the monthly bills. The day we made it full term was a very happy one.

On July 2nd, I contracted so badly that I could not get out of bed all day. I was in terrible pain and thought for sure I was in labor and that we were simply waiting for my water to break.  My due date was July 5th.  But as the hours came and went, so did my contractions. And even though severe, not as regular as full blown labor.  The next morning, I was feeling better. I thought I would go for a walk at the mall to try to move things along. I was DONE being pregnant. Everything hurts, not sleeping well, SO tired.  I stopped at the grocery store and grabbed some things to make tacos, then headed home to make dinner.  The night went normally. Still no baby. Not even contracting. Strange.

Then, 3 a.m. rolled around.  I got up extra carefully thinking I had to pee... My water broke! So I called my midwife, Donna.  Sleepily she told me to go ahead and head to St. Luke's Hospital. When we got there, there were no open rooms. I waited in a triage area from about 4:30 a.m. - 7:00 or so.  They were so busy that they even called in a special nurse just for us.  Her name was Stephanie. And to this day - I am so grateful for her. She deserves a special plaque and at least 3 gold stars and while were at it, a cookie!

I labored all day and all night and nothing. No progression. We even watched the Tigers Game on TV and the Maumee/Perrysburg Fireworks went off outside my window. Donna decided around 11 p.m. that it was time to try to move things along. The delivery was intense. It took a very long time, nearly 3 hours. Both the baby and I were exhausted. We were on oxygen and they shut my drugs off. Nothing worked.  She wouldn't come out. Finally, with only minutes to spare before I was whisked into surgery, Emerson was born.  7 lbs 4 oz 21 1/2 inches long. On the Fourth of July at 2:03 a.m. She never cried, only whimpered a few times.

Emmie, has proven to me what I have always known about myself. That having a baby was something I desperately needed in my life.  I would go as far to say, that she is most like her Aunt Sarah... (leggy, constantly late, and an incredibly SLOW eater.)


Emmie at 8 Weeks Old
Emerson Rose is the love of my life. Being a Mom has been intense to say the least. But I think waiting until I was 30 years old to start a family has given me some extra life experience to handle it better.