Home Sweet Home

I completely forgot the most important news of all: I moved. I now have my very own apartment. For the first time ever.

Due to a mess of complicated and asinine mistakes by the management, it turned out that my mom and I didn't didn't qualify for the 3 bedroom apartment. So they asked us to move out. Obviously, I was very upset. There was no way I could afford rent anywhere else, and my Mom and I had already decided that she would move back in with Russ. On top of that, thanks to my mom, my rental history is completely screwed because we didn't clean up the old apartment before we moved out. I kept trying to, but it's very hard to do all that stuff when you are working all the time and have a screaming 2 month old who wants you to pay attention to him. She didn't have a job and had plenty of time, but she would always say she was busy or tired or , and therefore couldn't help or even watch Snuffles while I went over and did it. But I digress. So anyway, I was freaking out. Then Allie, the manager came over and told us that she thought we would qualify individually for the 2 bedrooms here. She re-did our applications and made it look like we'd never moved into the 3 bedroom at all, and backdated it so it showed that we had lived in the 2 bedrooms all along. And she got us apartments right across the hall from eachother. And, even better than that, she gave us free rent until February. So even though they screwed up, it turned out to be better for us then if it had never happened at all. Not to mention that the apartment is gorgeous and brand new. And I have my own room!!! I hated sharing my room with Chase. His crib and various peripherals took up half the room, and now he sleeps through the night because I'm not in the same room with him. All in all, it's the best mistake that's ever happened to me. Read more!

Sore Throats Suck. And Stuff.

Hi blog, remember me? Yeah, me neither. So I have not written anything in a ridiculously long period of time, partially due to being insanely busy and partially because I'm just lazy. But I thought I would get back into the swing of things before the new year. Best to start off on the right foot, or I might not start off at all.

In the past month(ish) I've been having some interesting things going on. There's been work, the buffin, Christmas, Evan, the general fact that I am broke as efk, and all that other holiday goodness.

Since there has been so much (or perhaps little) going on, I don't really feel like detailing it all, but a few highlights are in order, for posterity and such. Chase rolled over (yay! gross motor skills!), ironically while wearing a shirt with Santa and his sleigh on it that said "this is how I roll", by the way. Evan and I have been... 'talking', as we've put it. Whatever the heck that means. Hard to do much else when you live three time zones apart. I finally got off my lazy butt and registered for school and financial aid (which means that I should be getting a laptop next month. Mmmm tasty. My mom finally got a job, and she loves it. It pays very well, too. I am seriously needing to look for a new job, but I've been putting it off. Bad bad Dragon. Oh, and I've had a seriously awful sore throat for going on 12 days now, which I caught from Chase. Poor thing is sick too. Well, as far as I can think of, that's pretty much it.

So for fun and kicks, here's a picture of the Buffin.

Kind of fuzzy, but that's ok. He really likes it when I put his feet on his face. Silly kid.

--Dragon Read more!

More Holiday Cuteness

It's funny, I haven't been writing lately because there is too much to write. I don't write often enough and so everything builds up and I feel overwhelmed because when I sit down at the computer something always comes up. So I end up saying nothing. How silly is that? Anyway, I took Chase to the mall on Sunday to get his picture taken with Santa. This is by far the best Santa ever, I'd have to say.



--Dragon Read more!

Sandy Claws Is Coming To Town

It has been my long-standing tradition to wear a Santa hat on Thanksgiving.



I have decided to implement a similar tradition with Chase, at least until he is old enough to protest:

(tell me this isn't the cutest face)

I very much love to dress him up in various cute things. For example:



And of course, my favorite, the Biker Buffin:



I loves me some cheeky outfits :D

--Dragon Read more!

Only Rock And Roll Can Save Us Now

Went and saw Chevelle on the 28th. It rocked. They played with Tyler Read and 2 Cents. Very good show. I got to meet Tyler Read and have my CD signed and my picture taken with them(that's Erik and me in the middle). It was on Erik's phone though, so not a very good picture. Still, it was awesome. They were very nice. One of the guitarists gave me a quarter to buy their CD because I was short. How cool is that?



I got into a fight with my mom today. It was over Sam stealing a dollar from me, of all things. An effing dollar. It wasn't that she denied that he stole it, no, she was upset because I was pissed off that he stole from me. Yeah, cuz I'm just supposed to sit back and let him steal from me. He does it all the time, and this is the first time it was money. It wouldn't be such a big deal, if he wanted it he could have asked and I likely would have given it to him, but he lied and said he put it in my mom's purse. There was no way he put it in her purse. There were $10 in her purse when I checked it, all folded together. If he had put it there, he wouldn't have pulled the money already in there out and folded it up together. That's just not how he operates.

She of course called me a bunch of highly uncalled for names and accused me of all kinds of things, namely being lazy and having a bad attitude. Yeah. Ok, cuz it's ok that she treats everyone like shit because nothing is going her way, but if I get pissed off that someone is constantly stealing my stuff from my room WHILE I'M ASLEEP mind you, then I am an effing evil bitch. Uh huh. So now she's saying she won't help me with college and I'm not even sure if she's going to watch Chase when I go back to work on Saturday (I have today, Thursday and Friday off). Just great, right? And I don't know whether or not she is just being pissy or if she really means it. I don't think she means it, because she doesn't stick to her guns (note that this is the reason Sam is a criminal-in-training who never actually gets disciplined because he simply ignores her). But if she does, then I'm royally screwed.

I'm so sick of this crap. I absolutely loathe relying of anyone else, because people constantly stab me in the back or walk all over me, even my own mother. I should have seen it coming though, she started kicking me out when I turned 17 and as such caused me to get kicked out of high school so I had to go to an adult school. I had to work my ass off to make sure I graduated. I got no help. But dear precious Sam, that's a different story. She is doing everything she possibly can to see him pass. The brat is 17 and in 10th grade. She pulled him out of school and put him in home school because obviously regular school isn't working. Of course it isn't working. He's a spoiled brat and doesn't give a damn. He doesn't care about himself, or anyone else for that matter. He wants to fail because he could care less whether or not he actually becomes a productive member of society. He thinks that mommy is going to support him when he turns 18 and is still in high school. She probably will. I hope she doesn't though. He needs to get kicked out and see what life is really like.

It's not fair. I stayed because I wanted to make her happy. I never went to live with dad. I chose to stay. And I got treated like crap, kicked out, grounded all the time, and of course I never got anything good except for a bike that she left down south to make room in the Uhaul for an effing queen size bed for Sam. Like he needed a damn queen sized bed. He ruined it within months of getting up here anyway. But Sam comes back and lives with her when he's 12, about as effed up as a person can get, and he's the flipping prodigal son. He gets all kinds of stuff, a TV, a nice stereo, PS2, PSP, all that. And of course he never got into trouble because she was too afraid he'd go running back to dad. God I hate emotional people. He would never run back to dad. He beat him and made him believe he was a complete idiot. And look, now he really is one.

I'm so sick of this. I need out of here. I need to be able to take care of myself and not have to deal with other people and their stupid irrational emotional bullshit. I am so sick of other people.

Oh yeah, other than that, I had a nice Hallowe'en. I dressed up as a witch and dressed Chase as the Jolly Green Giant (pictures forthcoming) and went to Kim's and then Sara's. It was nice.

--Dragon Read more!

Dear Nasty, Skanky, Trailer Trash Hookers Who Insist On Mentally Putting Their Filthy Paws All Over My Son

Dear Tami and Mari:

Let me first say that for one brief moment I liked you. Then you turned into a bunch of crazy skanky bitches. You remember your other daughter, Desi, don't you, Tami? The one I was friends with all throughout high school? Well she's on permanent disability because she can't even function in the real world thanks to your effed up family, siccing all the other kids on her and treating her like filth, attacking her and scratching up her face with your nasty nails, making her sleep outside in the trailer, oh, not to mention such gems as forbidding her from seeing her friends, and calling them up and saying that they were a witch and devil worshiper on their 15th birthday? Remember that one, Tami? Well I do. My effing 15th birthday, you dumb wench. Well, suffice to say, I don't like you. And I don't like your fughly daughter Mari, either.

In true family tradition, when Matt was home last year on his birthday, you told him, Mari, that I had emailed you all these terrible, untrue things, and made him hate me. He wouldn't even talk to me so I could prove that you were lying. But that wasn't enough. Nope. You thought it would be fun to send me awful emails saying all kinds of horrible things that Matt said about me (which he didn't) that I don't even want to repeat. Finally I just stopped reading them and deleted them without even looking.

Then, this year, months and months after he realized exactly what brand of worthless scum you are, you tried to contact Matt again through Faith's myspace. Of course, neither of them wanted anything to do with you, especially after seeing all the racist trash on your profile. You tell Faith that Matt is going to leave her for me, and that no matter what, he will always come running back to me, any other girls are just a diversion, so she better keep a short leash on him and not let me have anything to do with him. WTF? Seriously. Don't go telling my friends that I am going to steal away their boyfriend. I like and respect Faith very much, and I don't have any intentions of 'stealing' him away from her, whether I am capable of it or not.

Then, they try and tell you not to contact them, and you have the cojones to call Faith's children future hookers, fags, and drug addicts, (and those are the nicer things you said). Faith's kids are 5,6, and 8 years old. Yeah. Nice job, assface. You have class just oozing out all over the place, don't you, Mari?

So that said, I don't care if you work with Erik. I don't care if you just "luuurrrve" babies. Quit flipping asking him about Chase. Quit asking about him, quit asking if he can bring him to work so you can see him (and no doubt touch him with your nasty little hands), and most of all, quit leaving asinine comments on his myspace saying that he 'looks just like Erik' and most of all, acting as if I had nothing to do with the whole creating bit. For all intents and purposes, Erik is barely in the picture at all. He spends maybe a few hours every few days over here, can't even burp the child correctly, and I can't trust him to take Chase anywhere because he drives like an idiot and refuses to drive safely even with constant reminders. Plus, he keeps pot in is car and there's no effing way that I'm going to let him take Chase anywhere with that around, lest he get pulled over (a common occurance) and searched.

HE IS MY FUCKING SON, YOU MORONS. Keep your nasty evil germs away from him, mentally and physically. Keep it up and I may hunt you down and punch you square in the face... maybe not, as we all know, fughly people have nothing to lose. But I will teach you not to mess with me, cuz you are getting on my last nerve. Wenches.

--Dragon

Stupid jump still isn't working. Argh. Read more!

Squishface

I thought perhaps I should post something happy and lighthearted to balance out all the negative sounding posts lately. Life is not all bad, really. I'm just having a sort of bad time lately thanks to boredom, poorness, and a lack of more than 4 or 5 consecutive hours of sleep (and that's on a good night). But there are a few good things going on. There's Chase, of course (the kid's going to grow up thinking his name is Buffin. I call him Chase maybe once or twice a day and Buffin about 4732913746984623967 times a day), and I've been working on the carriers when I get the chance (although 3 of the 4 of the sewing machines in the house have suddenly decided to go on strike-- without any forewarning by the way-- and none are working correctly except the serger), and my dear friend Zin has asked me to help her with her fantastic political blog, Locke's Closet. So some things are going well.

And now for the fun stuff- baby pictures, anyone?







--Dragon

BTW, for some unfathomable reason, I can't get the jump to work anymore. I have to go in and see if the HTML got screwed up somehow, which I don't look forward to at all.
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The Emergence of the Wee Dragon

Not only do I have a baby, but wonder of wonders, I actually like him. I was so afraid that I'd just look at him and think, "What am I supposed to do with THAT?" Luckily that didn't happen. I am so glad.

Anyway. On to the gory details...

I went into the hospital Friday the 7th at 5:45am. I woke up that morning feeling very serene. I was completely unafraid. The fact that I knew I was having a c-section and I knew what to expect made it all seem completely bearable. As long as I feel I have control over a situation, I can take pretty much anything.

Sara was waiting for us when Erik and I got there. We went to the Maternity department and checked in, and they weighed me and checked my blood pressure and all the usual procedures to ensure that I was in fact alive and not in any eminent danger. They made me put on one of those horrendous hospital gowns and put in an IV. Unfortunately I do not have very sticky-outy veins (that's the technical term for it, of course) and they couldn't seem to find one on my right arm (I'm left handed) so they had to put it on my left arm. Still, it wasn't too bad.

Then we ended up waiting around for about an hour and a half because the doctor was performing another c-section. I think I had to get up to pee about 8 times. It was terribly irritating. Just before it was time to go into surgery, the anesthesiologist, Dr. Anand came in and introduced himself and let me know what he was going to be doing. Then the nurse came in and took me to the surgery room.

We went in and the first thing they had to do was the spinal block. This was probably the most awful experience I've ever had. They couldn't find a space to get it in and it hurt like hell. Dr. Anand eventually had to call in another anesthesiologist to help. In all they had to try 4 or 5 times. I had to hold completely still and arch my back into a weird position while leaning against the nurse, Kirsten (she was fantastic. She was also the checkout nurse and was absolutely the most awesome person ever. Also, she looked a lot like Jennifer Love Hewitt.) By the last time I was trying incredibly hard not to cry because I knew it would make me shake. I kept thinking that if it didn't work then I'd have to go through labor-- without any anesthesia. This was the first time that I really got scared. Just as I thought they were going to give up, they got it in. Suddenly I felt all tingly and heavy. It was the strangest thing in the world.

They got me up on the table and started to get everything ready. At this point they brought Sara in (I didn't want Erik in the room because I was afraid that he would freak out or faint, and I felt the role of the support person was to actually give support)However, I was pretty much out of it so I barely noticed. The spinal went too high because they put it higher than usual since they couldn't find a space. My arms started tingling and I asked if it was supposed to do that. It wasn't, but the doctors assured me that everything was ok as long as I could still move my arms. They kept asking me to squeeze their hands. I felt like I was having trouble breathing and I had to consciously make an effort to breathe. They kept giving me oxygen and I could barely talk because when I did I felt like I had to choose between talking and breathing. Obviously, I chose breathing. I felt like I just wanted to go to sleep, but a little voice in my head kept telling me that if I fell asleep I would stop breathing. At one point the tingling crept into the back of my skull and I got really scared. From the sound of his voice, Dr. Anand got a little worried, too.

While this was going on, Dr. Mazon was busy doing the surgery. They had warned me that while I wouldn't feel any pain, I likely would feel some tugging and pushing, and that when they actually pulled the baby out I would feel like I couldn't breathe because they would be pushing down hard on my stomach to help get him out. The one good thing about my spinal was that it was so strong I didn't feel anything at all. I didn't even realize they had started the surgery until I heard Chase cry. I asked if that was the baby, knowing that it was but it seemed so far away that I wasn't sure if it was real. I remember distinctly thinking that it was weird that he was actually saying "wah wah."

They handed him to Sara after they cleaned him up and made sure everything was fine. She brought him over to see me but I didn't even have the energy to turn my head and look, so I could only see him out of the corner of my eye. Shortly after that they took him out to the recovery room to be with Erik and wait for for me to be stitched up. When they finished they lifted me on to a gurney to take me to the recovery room, and as soon as my head was elevated I could instantly breathe better. I was so relieved, because they had told me the spinal would take a few hours to completely wear off, and I was afraid that I would spend the entire time just trying to breathe.

I didn't hold Chase for the first three hours because I was shaking so bad I was afraid that I would drop him, and I didn't want them to put him on my chest for fear that it would put pressure on my lungs and I wouldn't be able to breathe. As you can see, I really enjoy breathing :). They brought me ice chips because I was so thirsty and I thought that they were better than ice cream. It was funny because I was still shaking and so I was dropping ice chips all over the place.

Finally they decided things were well enough for me to go to the mother-baby room. Once we got there I was able to hold him. I love the way new babies move. I remember when I was with a friend when her baby was born how adorable it was to hold her and feel her little arms and legs moving under the blanket. I felt the same way about Chase. I was afraid that since I hadn't held him for the first three hours of his life that it would cause some kind of permanent damage. There is all this mostly pro-breastfeeding propaganda that makes you feel like if you don't have skin to skin contact with your baby right away, then your baby will be scarred for life and you will never have a healthy bond with them. Although he's only a week old, I'm pretty sure there is no permanent damage. And if there is, it's not likely caused by that.

The first pain medication they had me on was morphine. It made me feel pretty good, but it also made my face rather itchy and had the rather unpleasant effect of causing me to have to throw up randomly and without any notice. They were kind enough to put me on tylenol with codeine and ibuprofen pretty quickly, and after that everything was fantastic.

For the rest of my stay, everything was wonderful. All of the nurses and the rest of the staff were incredibly nice and treated me like a queen. Apparently they took up a poll and all the nurses agreed that Chase was the cutest baby on the ward :). Erik was great and I was completely amazed at him for not protesting or complaining when it came to changing diapers or anything else. (Once we left the hospital it was a completely different story, but I'll explain that later) We only had to call a nurse to help with Chase once. The food was surprisingly good, and even the bathrooms were really nice. All the doctors and nurses were completely shocked at how well I did. I was doing so well that they even let me go home a day early.

Everyone who came to visit was absolutely in love with Chase. Erik's family was so excited. It was cute watching them vie for the chance to hold him first, or feed him, or even change his diaper. My brother's birthday was the 9th, and when I asked him what he wanted for his birthday he said he wanted to come to the hospital and see the baby. How sweet is that?

The day I left I was actually able to go to Walmart. My mom said she was trying to keep up with me, instead of the other way around. I was able to walk up the stairs to my apartment with no problem, which surprised me because everyone said it would be the hardest thing I'd have to do for a while. When I got home the house was beautiful. My mom had spent the whole weekend cleaning it from top to bottom and making everything look wonderful.

At my appointment the following day to have the staples from my incision removed, Dr. Mazon told me not to even bother making a two week follow up appointment, which they usually have c-section patients do, because he felt that it would be pointless as I was doing so well. And today, I was feeling so well that Erik and I took Chase to Open Mic to show him off, and I didn't even have to take any pain medication at all the entire day.

Overall, I think that everything was fantastic. The only bad part was the spinal block, and that part lasted a little over an hour. Would I do it again? Absolutely not, but only because I truly do not plan on having any more kids. If for some crazy reason I did, however, I would definitely want to do a c-section, even if I knew the spinal would go the same way. I feel as if I am doing better than some women who had regular deliveries. I am so glad that (almost) everything went the way I wanted. People talk about having a "positive birth experience" and I feel as if I had the best one possible.

So that's what happened. Now I can stop feeling guilty for not writing it down and actually get to posting random mumblings again.

--Dragon






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