Hello, blog world. I've missed you.

Not really. I've received several e-mails in the last week, though, inquiring as to whether or not I've fallen off the face of the earth. Nope. Just busy. Crazy busy.

First and foremost, thank to those of you who sent well wishes regarding my health. I did in fact get the lumbar puncture results back and they were negative for cancer and multiple sclerosis, thank God. So the brain lesions are most likely the result of migraines. The bad news is that I'm still having the headaches and the medication the doctor was sure would work isn't working. I have a follow-up in a few weeks, so we'll see where to go with that. I also had an ENG done to determine if my vertigo is caused by an inner ear issue, and we have confirmed that it is. I apparently have a vestibular disorder, the cause of which is unknown, but the thought is that a few sessions of PT will resolve the vertigo.

Savannah is doing very well. She'll be 3 months in a week or so - hard to believe that much time has gone by already. She's all smiles most of the time, and is extremely fascinated with the domed kitchen ceiling light which seems to identically resemble a breast. She doesn't fit into 3 month clothing very well anymore, and is already into Size 3 diapers. I've got a big girl on my hands! She loves to look at the television - particularly baseball and Lost - holds her head up like a pro, and she can sit on her own for a few seconds at a time. She adores her daddy and brother. I think I finally have her on a sleep schedule, thank goodness. "They" say it can't be done until a baby is around 4 months old, but I did it. She seems to be very smart, and she's going to grow up to be a sweet and beautiful little girl.

Nat is doing well, too. He turned 21 months last week. Talks nonstop - literally - from wake to sleep. He has well over 200 words an speaks in complete sentences 99% of the time. He uses the past tense correctly, uses "I" and "me" and "you" correctly, excuses himself when he burps, knows some of his ABCs, can count to 11 - although not always in the correct order, but he's getting there - and, like all boys, is obsessed with cars and bugs. He loves to pick up the rolly polly bugs and squish them. I've begun using time-out sessions with him to try to get him to stop saying the 2 expletives he comes out with on occasion, and it seems to be working. At the moment, for time-outs, I'll take him to a quiet area, sit him on my lap, and count to 60 - the last few times he's slipped and said one of the words, he immediately starts counting. It's actually pretty funny, and my husband and I have to keep ourselves from laughing when he does it. He's such a sweet boy, and I hope he retains that sweetness. He's absolutely fearless - he loves to climb the highest slide at the playground (which I'm a little leery of myself) and go down by himself. I hope he retains that, too. He's still painfully shy around other kids his age, and it makes me sad to see that he'd rather play by himself. He marches to his own drummer, though, and I admire him for that. I just pray that it doesn't cause him any social discomfort when he grows older. He's so smart, and so handsome, and I can't believe he'll be 2 in a few short months.

Me, I joined a gym recently. The last time I had worked out was the day after I found out I was pregnant with Nat in 2006. It felt so good to get back. I'm aiming to lose 49 pounds - that's about what I gained with both pregnancies combined. I say 49 because 50 puts too much pressure on me. I'm taking the kids to visit my parents for a few days in a couple of weeks. A two-hour drive with the two of them. I must be nuts.

That's it in a nutshell. I haven't had much to write about, or the time, really, so that's the reason for my absence. I hope to start posting regularly again soon.

8 weeks old

She rolled over for the first time on the 4th of July. Talk about a true independence day! Her brother didn't roll over on his own until he was 3 months old.

She pushed herself up on her arms and legs and rocked back and forth for about 30 seconds a few days ago.

She has been able to hold her head up on her own pretty much since day 1, but she can do it for a lot longer now.

She still hates the pacifier. She'll only take it when she's too tired to protest.

She coos. She laughs out loud. She melts your heart with her smiles. When she's angry she yells, "Gee!"

She usually gives us a 6 hour nighttime stretch of sleep. Unless you expect her to. Then she's up every 3 hours.


She's impatient.

She's melodramatic.

She's one hungry little baby.

She loves to look at her big brother. She loves to be naked. She loves to toot and poop in the tub. She's frustrating at times and she's one half of a team that makes me exhausted to the point of wanting to die, but she's my baby girl and I love her with my whole heart. It's funny to think back of my worries over not having enough love to go around. Happy 8 weeks, Savannah!

Shoot me in the face

My husband and I believe in the importance of exposing our children to music. Listening to music is cathartic. Music enhances learning. Music is enjoyable. Nathanael has enjoyed music from the time he was in the womb. He would be-bop in utero every time Kelly Clarkson's Since U Been Gone was played loudly enough for him to hear it. He responded to a very powerful classical music piece when I was in a vintage music store in Manhattan. So much so that I purchased the cd, played it for him when he was a newborn, and he would immediately calm down as though he recognized and enjoyed the piece. We have music going quite often here at home. I've never really had him listen to the classic kiddie songs cd's, lest I go crazy. Instead I've exposed him to folk (Tom Chapin, Elizbeth Mitchell) and, one of my faves, Trout Fishing in America. He loves this music, and actually turns his nose up when he does hear the more traditional kid's music with the tinkly toy piano sounds.

Until this week.

My son discovered Raffi. One song in particular, actually. Aikendrum. Google the lyrics. It's a song about someone who plays upon a ladle and has a nose made of cheese. What the HELL is this song about? And why does he insist upon listening to it over and over AND OVER again?

*************************************************************
I had my spinal yesterday. It took the doctor 4 tries. He hit bone the first two times. He hit a nerve the third time. Fourth poke was a success. Good Lord. Color and pressure of CSF were fine (there's something creepy about seeing a vial filled with fluid from your spinal column), so now we're just waiting on test results. In the meantime, he's having me try something else for the headaches - something that is FDA-approved for the treatment of migraines....as well as bipolar disorder. Interesting. This medication also carries with it warnings of hepatic failure and pancreatitis. In other words, my headaches should subside, but there's a chance that my organs will become inflamed and, consequently, shut down. Sweet.

Three five moppa

No, I didn't just have a stroke and type some random phrase in the title box. My son has been saying this ALL DAY LONG, and having a mighty laugh about it every time. I'm dying to know what it means. I've run a few possibilities through my mind, and each one makes me nervous. He laughs a particularly sadistic laugh, too, which makes me question whether or not he'll grow up to be a serial killer.

I don't blog much anymore. I've developed too much of a life and have formed a huge social network of new friends, and I simply have no time to devote to blogging.

Oh come now, dear readers. You didn't fall for that one, did you? Me? With real-life friends with whom I'd actually have to interact? Please. The mere thought gives me an anxiety attack.

I just can't find the time to sit down, or conjure up the brain power to write a witty blog post worth reading. The kids wear me out and keep me busy. As soon as one falls asleep the other one wakes up, and vice versa. In the rare moments I do have to myself I'm either picking up or resting because I (still) feel like crap most days.

I have my spinal tap tomorrow. I really thought I was done with sharp pokes in the back (save for my husband in the middle of the night) and I'm really not looking forward to it. I hope the neurologist doesn't overdo it on the coffee in the morning, or have too wild a night tonight, or develop Parkinson's between now and tomorrow afternoon.

I'm also going for an electronystagmogram next week to determine if my chronic vertigo is due to an inner ear issue or if we need to assess other avenues for that as well. Not so much looking forward to this, either. I'm ready to be done with the various testing procedures and just get to the bottom of all of this. I'm tired of feeling this way. I'm tired of not being able to fully enjoy the summer and the joy that it brings my son. I feel like a walking lab rat. Someone's poorly executed science experiment.

On a higher note, Hubs taught my 20 month old son to say "How YOU doin'?" a la Joey from Friends. It's the funniest thing ever.

I've decided that the Count from Sesame Street is a pervert, perhaps even more so than those Noodle "brothers."

I watched an entire episode of Reading Rainbow yesterday. I didn't realize it was RR at first, because there was a segment on cake decorating showing when I landed on the channel, but once I did I was slightly embarrassed as I had been enjoying the program. We don't have cable so our program selection is limited, but when the show continued on to highlight the entire process of making a wax dummy of Lavar Burton for Madame Tussaud's in NYC, I had to watch. Lavar Burton has a scary amount of teeth in his mouth. Other-worldly even.

I've been embracing my inner Donna Reed lately. I'm currently obsessed with the concept of freezer jam. I feel like a loser, but secretly I love it. I'm determined to give my kids a wholesome upbringing, and if I have to go back a few decades to make sure it happens, so be it. I partially blame Wondertime Magazine. I love this magazine. I wish someone from Wondertime would contact me to do something for them, for free even. The latest issue had a few articles in it about memorable family vacations - roughing it-style camping, renting cottages in a beach town for a week - we never did this when I was growing up, and I would love to start some kind of summer tradition like these with our kids. We did other fun things, of course, so don't get me wrong - I don't feel slighted by the kind of summer experiences I did or didn't have, but the thought of taking off somewhere every summer, and having the chance to anticipate the familiarity of it all - it's very appealing to me.

I'm ending with a song suggestion for you all. Songs don't usually have an impact on me emotionally (that's a lie), but this one struck me a few weeks ago when I heard it for the first time. Five For Fighting's The Riddle (You and I). The lyrics are below, but I'd suggest finding a way to listen, too.

There was a man back in '95
Whose heart ran out of summers
But before he died, I asked him

Wait, what's the sense in life
Come over me, come over me

He said, "Son why you got to sing that tune
Catch a Dylan song or some eclipse of the moon
Let an angel swing and make you swoon
Then you will see... You will see."

Then he said, "Here's a riddle for you
Find the answer
There's a reason for the world
You and I..."

Picked up my kid from school today
Did you learn anything cause in the world today
You can't live in a castle far away
Now talk to me, come talk to me

He said, "Dad I'm big but we're smaller than small
In the scheme of things, well we're nothing at all
Still every mother's child seems to know this song
So play with me, come play with me"

And hey dad
Here's a riddle for you
Find the answer
There's a reason for the world
You and I...

I said, "Son for all I've told you
When you get right down to the
Reason for the world... Who am I?"

There are secrets that we still have left to find
There have been mysteries from the beginning of time
There are answers we're not wise enough to see

He said... You're looking for a place I love you free...

The batter swings and the summer flies
As I look into my angel's eyes
A song plays on while the moon is high over me
Something comes over me

I guess we're big and I guess we're small
If you think about it man you know we got it all
Cause we're all we got on this bouncing ball
And I love you free
I love you freely

Here's a riddle for you
Find the answer
There's a reason for the world
You and I...

Nothing beats brain freeze on a hot summer day

Baby boy turned 20 months this week. The big 2-0. The countdown begins to 2 years old now, I guess. Kind of hard to believe that this is the same little boy who, at this time last year, was this little boy:




Our latest accomplishment is counting to 11...usually leaving out #4, though. Doesn't like the 4. He speaks mostly in complete, 4-5 word sentences now, something that isn't usually seen until age 3, apparently. My boy's a genius. Look out, Mensa - here comes Natty! Still the doting big brother, he loves to shower his baby sister with kisses, and asks for her as soon as he wakes up. He can't get enough of the outside, and loves playing in his pool and sand and water table. Loves the dirt and mud - he likes bringing mama gifts of mud and worms - and thinks it's hilarious to splash people with water. He has such a big heart and he makes me proud every day. We have to be very careful with what we say around him, as he seems to pick up the most inappropriate things we say. His extensive vocab is made up of some not-so-nice things. It can't be me that he gets these things from, no no no. The terrible twos are definitely here and I'm very ready for them to go away, but he's still a ton of fun to spend my day with.

Baby girl is doing well. Smiles and laughs and coos. Doesn't like to sleep much during the day, but is giving us nice 6-hour stretches at night so I can't complain.

I have the pleasure of getting a lumbar puncture done next week to either diagnose or rule out MS. I can hardly wait.

Wait and see

That's what we're doing. Taking the wait and see approach. I can deal with that.

Saw the neurologist this morning. Was scared out of my wits as I walked into his office. Shaking, actually.

I have about 15 lesions on my brain. I got to see them on the MRI films. I want to name them. I should, I guess. They're not going anywhere.

The doctor is saying that he's not overly concerned about MS at this point. We're going to go ahead and treat me for migraines. I'm on one medication to break this cycle of headaches. I have another to take if they come back. If neither medication works then I'll be set up with infusion therapy. Infusion therapy for headaches - at this neurological institute, at least - involves being hooked up to an IV for a couple of hours in a comfy chair in a quiet, darkened room with an eye mask. SIGN ME UP! Sounds like a vacation to me at this point. If THAT doesn't work, then we'll take another look at things - reevaluate symptoms, perhaps another MRI.

I can wait. I can see. Am I worried? Sure, a little, but it's not going to affect my every day living. It'll be back there in the darkest depths of my mind. I know MS is still a possibility. But I can be thankful for today, and thankful that the first few words out of his mouth weren't "I'm sorry to tell you...."

Thanks to all of you who commented and who sent me private e-mails wishing me luck and sending good thoughts. You'll never know how much they are appreciated.

This or that

This week seems to be taking forever to pass. I need it to be Friday. Not because I can't wait for the weekend to start, but because I feel like I can't wait any longer to find out, for once and for all, the current state of my health.

I saw my primary doctor for a chronic headache several weeks ago. At that time, the headache had been present for about 3 weeks. Slightly concerned, he scheduled a brain MRI. I had the MRI done last week - it was a real bitch. Not something I'd like to do again anytime soon. I'm not claustrophobic, but having to endure what sounded like a woodpecker on steroids for 25 minutes wasn't my bag, baby. I left the testing center thinking that the whole thing had been unnecessary. Apparently it wasn't.

I received a call from my doctor earlier this week with the results and a referral to a neurologist. Apparently the scan showed "numerous lesions" on my brain that are typically consistent with two conditions, one being migraines. The other? Multiple sclerosis. Bam. Just like that, my world turned upside down. I'm seeing a neurologist later this week to determine which of the two is causing these lesions. The lesions themselves are no big deal - apparently most people have lesions on their brains, and lesions can be caused by many things, including ingesting artificial sweeteners. It's the number and pattern of lesions causing the concern. I feel like I've been handed a death sentence, though, despite the fact that we don't know yet what's going on. MS, while manageable, is unpredictable and can be nasty. The thought of winding up in a wheelchair and becoming a burden to my family is sickening. The thought of not being there for my babies, or being there but not....there...that's even worse. I feel like I've been dealt a shitty hand with my health. Why me? When do I get a break? Can't I just be left alone to enjoy my life and my children...leave me alone!

I'm asking for prayers. For good thoughts. For an encouraging word or two. I'm not sure if I'll find out anything concrete on Friday, but the process of narrowing things down will begin.

'Til then...

Oh mama, Angelina Zooma Zoom

I fear my girl crush on Angelina Jolie may be coming to an end. She had to go and piss me off.

I recently read this article, and in it Angelina is quoted as giving the following response when asked why she thinks so many movie stars seem to be children of movie stars:
“Artists raise their kids differently,” she said. “We communicate to the point where we probably annoy our children. We have art around the house, we have books, we go to plays, we talk. Our focus is art and painting and dress-up and singing. It’s what we love. So I think you can see how artists in some way raise other artists.”

What the HELL? Why, Angelina, you hit that dang nail right on its head. I's neveh read MAH boy no books. And hell, I ain't neveh had a conversation with him. Art, well that's for them museum places - we ain't got no art here in our home. In our house, we watch the picture box nonstop, and the only books are the Reader's Digests we steal from our neighbor's trailer.

Come on now. In all honesty, I don't know any other mother who has spent more time talking to her child. I talked to Baby Boy nonstop from the day I found out I was pregnant. From the day he was born I would hold conversations with him - telling him what I was doing and so on and so forth. I did this in an effort to interact with him, and later on, to begin to teach him words, phrases, and concepts.

Books? Baby Boy has more books at the tender age of 19 months than I've had in my 31 years, and I love to read.

Talking? The boy probably wishes I would shut up once in a while.

Art? Well, we're certainly not the proud owners of an original Renoir, but I appreciate art and I'm sure my husband does as well. I'm sure we'll visit museums and galleries when he's older.

I'm not sure what she was implying here. Maybe nothing - maybe pregnancy brain got the best of her, but to me there's a hidden element of "we're more educated than the average parent" in there somewhere, and I bet she catches a lot of criticism for it. I love to read. If I had the time I would read more. I love theater. I love theater so much that we blew a ton of money on Broadway shows when we lived in NYC. I've had the pleasure of seeing a certain musical 5 or 6 times.

So Angelina, though it may break your heart, I think I might have to quit you. Your statement hit a nerve for some reason, and I don't know if I can forgive you.

Besides - I've started watching Lost, and I totally have think I may have a
girl crush on Evangeline Lily now.