Random useless tidbits

Yesterday and today I only had to take one small person to school (T was with the other one(s) at an appointment) and HOLY BALLS ALIVE was it easy.  

The jump from one child to two cleaned my clock when Iris came home and I feel as if we're in a very good groove right now and holy moses I wouldn't trade them in but I kinda don't need the reminder that one child is Easy Street on many, many levels.

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I have to wrap all the things tonight and I am dreading it.

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I have been crazypants productive at work this week and have totally earned my keep.

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Since Ezra and Iris' daycare is part of a larger facility, we have the opportunity to sign them up for additional rec. programs at a reduced cost.  So today I signed Ezra up for tumbling again (he loved it this fall) and a Saturday sports sampler where each week for eight weeks they try out and play a different sport.

For a hot second I felt like Super Overscheduling Parent, but I justified the two classes as a) tumbling falls when he's normally at school anyway and he does it with a friend of his and b) homeboy needs to burn some energy off on Saturday mornings this winter while we're cooped up inside.  

So, yeah.

I figure I'll take Iris swimming at the pool at our gym and we'll be non-twitchy and make it until April with non-"Shining" moments.

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A very exciting tidbit: Iris no longer needs occupational OR physical therapy.

!!!!

We have been going to those two separate appointments on a weekly basis for over a year and a half and now she doesn't need them. She got an official discharge!  They don't think there is anything she needs that they can provide her with that she isn't getting at home or at school.  She's caught up!  

It's so awesome.

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Lately I have been craving gravy.  

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Do you have any tidbits?

Snarf

And on the seventh day my sweet daughter discovered cream cheese frosting and came unglued. Cats and now cream cheese frosting can officially be considered some of Iris' favorite things.

Last year, you know, Iris was mellow and just learning how to sit up and so she didn't partake in "gingerbread houses" (no real gingerbread was used in the making of the structure nor is it inhabitable).  This year, though, and she was in it to win it.

We would line up a row of jolly looking gummy bears and her lightning fast paw would snaggle them, she'd quick lick them and then she'd throw them back on the tray.  Oookay then.  She also was a huge fan of Gummi Savers.  

Ezra discovered jelly beans and reiterated that he hates peanuts.

T hugged a bag of orange slices tightly to his chest.

Iris' expression is quintessiantally her.

Sweet baby jesus--that side of the house is a wreck.

Down on the farm

On Saturday night we went to the live nativity at a farm about 35 minutes away.  I'll be honest: the live nativity was kinda...suspect.  Perhaps I didn't know what to expect or it was more amateur (??) than I had anticipated, but it was...hmmmm.  Although, Ezra loved it and loudly demanded "More BABY JESUS!" at one point.  So you know.

What did rock steady was that it is mostly a petting farm and all of the animals there are meant to be touched and held and admired.  Iris lost her everloving mind over the cats and even picked up a new word: goat.

Turkeys be crazy.

His name was Mr. Chops.

This was quite literally a pile of cats.

Love/hate Thursday

Love: That I have a doctors appointment today that will hopefully give me a path of vigilante justice against my uterus.

Hate:  Why so jenky, lady parts?  Because I'mma comin' for you!

Love: Christmas is nigh

Hate: Wrapping.  I hate the wrapping of gifts so, so much.

Love: I have co-workers that are delightful and funny and smart.

Hate: I have co-workers that are the distinct opposite of delightful.

Love: The kids are healthy

Hate: Iris wrestled with what ended up being a tummy bug two days last week that had her retching and gagging and me calling the g-tube doctor and worrying.

Love: She is good now and it passed (ahem) without much of an issue.  In fact, she woke up on Saturday quite sassy and back to normal.  

Hate: My face skin is wigging out

Love: This upcoming weekend that will hold live nativity scenes and animals and making gingerbread houses and T being able to hang out with friends and a haircut for the Muffin.

Hate: I have one more late Friday night to work before the term is over.

Love: Last night I slept so hard I woke up and didn't know what day it was.  

Hate: I eventually remembered that it was not Friday.

Love: This blouse from Boden.

Hate: That I'm already dreading putting the Christmas tree away.  I hate doing it.

Love: My new glasses

Hate: They're kind of making one of my ears hurt--may need to have them readjusted.

Love: Lunch is approaching



What are you loving and hating?  You know you have some...

Awesome Things Ezra Has Said Lately

"Papa, loves those action movies.  And horsey music.  He LOVES horsey music."


(????)


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"Iris, how about you hold my hand and be safe right now?"


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"Actually, Mama, Santa loves mangoes so we should leave him some at night.  And the reindeers like carrots.  And hummous.  For dipping."


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"Papa, you don't have any friends."


(This kind of made me--and T--laugh.  Toddlers are harsh.)

Christmas flora and fauna

On Sunday we went to the botanical gardens and scoped out the Christmas trees from around the world.  

Ezra wondered by baby Jesus was in a plastic box (aka display case).

T was happy we beat the crowds.

Iris lost her mind upon seeing birds eating birdseed in the tropical room.

We ate lunch in the cafe.

I was happy to be with my family.

Christmas Wonk

While fairly Type A about some things (shut it, T), I like to think that when it comes to projects or fun things to do with the small fries, that I'm pretty relaxed.  I honestly don't get too bent out of shape if things turn out not exactly resembling the picture (I'm looking at you, Ghostie Pretzels) because whatever.  It's the memory that counts.  

I'm not just saying that.

But to say that I wasn't a tidgy bummed out that I decorated the Christmas tree by myself last weekend would be lying.  Because I did.  By myself.  The small fries watched "Max and Ruby" and T lounged and did spreadsheets and drank Wild Turkey or something.  I have no idea, really, as his can wasn't next to mine putting up ornaments.  Pfft to the family.

So just to review here is where we stand on what's left to enjoy in the K Family Christmas Good Times Bonanza and, hello, there are only two weeks to Christmas (balls alive!) so we may need to get crackin'.  

1. Decorate the Christmas tree, all four of us.  Ahem.  We know what happened here.
2. Take the kids to Toys 'R Us and have them each pick out a toy to donate. Well!  I am happy to say that Ezra reminded me this morning that we still had to do this and while going to Toys 'R Us sounds like a special kind of hell, the fact that he remembered and mentioned that it was for kids that don't have toys, well, my heart exploded.  So I'm thinking that maybe we'll do this on Sunday and then find a place to drop them off.
3. Go visit the live nativity.  On the weekends they're only open on Saturdays, so perhaps next week post-naptime we'll be visiting the animals and pistol-packing Purell.
4. Elf on a Shelf.  Yeah.  Alphabet/Elphabet is currently residing on the bean bag in the playroom as Ezra has told me that that is where he likes to lounge.  The boy seriously said "lounge."  Anyway, A/E gets snuggles from Iris and sometimes crops up doing something mischievous, but I think the mystery is done so let's just put a fork in it.  Sigh.
5. Go to the botanical gardens and look at Christmas trees from around the world.  Maybe this Sunday?  
6. Figure out with T how we're going to do our family foursome Christmas.  Well, this was decided for us as T and I offered our house for hosting both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.  My parents moved into a new place a few weeks ago and are in the midst of living like hoarders in their new basement while renovations take place in the rest of the house.  My mom still offered to cook--just at our house--so I just have to make sure there are enough clean plates for everyone in advance.  In actuality, this will work out better as it means naps for the small people on Christmas Day in their own beds.  And! I'm thinking Christmas jammies might be in order for them Christmas Eve evening (?) since we'll be at home.  Holla.
7. Maybe make Iris a new stocking.  After evaluating this more, I think it just needs more glitter and sparkles and details.  Next week I'll go to the Hob Lob and BUY ALL THE GLITTERS!
8. Make gingerbread houses.  I have a feeling Ezra (again) and maybe even Iris will go nutsauce over the frosting and candy.  Anyway, probably next weekend so that they can be displayed for the Christmas dinners.
9. Make cookies for our neighbor, Mrs. B.  One of the few things we can fit in on a weeknight, we may wait another week for this as Mrs. B is currently renovating her kitchen and I want to be Nosey Nancy and get a peek while dropping off cookies.  

So there you have it.  It is officially balls to the wall Christmas time.

Dance dance

So the birthday was a great one.

I was given so much love by friends that it made me feel Supa Nice.  I love birthdays so very much and to have others reach out made it even better.

Admittedly, I turned a bit pouty and internally foot-stompy when I hadn't heard from T until 3:00pm even though he was out of town and busy with meetings that started at 6:00am.  Damned work ethic.

But you know what?  He hauled biscuits from the other side of the state and set up our dining room table with a vase of flowers and multiple cards and a gift and he even made a cake (!!!).  Then he raced to daycare by 4:30pm because we had a parent conference with Mr. B, Ezra's teacher.

Theeennnn he let me sit on the couch and watch "Olivia" while snuggling with Iris.  After everyone was in bed, he got me some take-out lettuce wraps and let me drink the better part of a bottle of wine and cackle while watching "King of the Hill.'' What makes my heart burst the most is T's desire to make my day special.  And he delivered.

So after all that sap, I leave you with a video (because Erica totally said I could do more videos) of Ezra bouncing on our bed to the vocal stylings of the music card I received.

Processing through minefields

Warning: potentially v. boring post about insurance about to commence...

There is no singular thing that makes me want to run down the street yelling and ripping my hair out than finagling with insurance.

I had to dink around with Aflac after having Noah and Iris and it was the most major of pains in my can because I chose to go back to work after two weeks and most people don't do that and whatever it still makes my head hurty thinking about it. Run-on sentence done.

Then there was dealing with Medicaid and trying to decide whether or not we wanted it and how we would even use it.  Iris qualified for Medicaid due to her extremely low birth weight + length of time in the hospital + diagnoses after discharge.  The Medicaid was discontinued this summer because some of her diagnoses changed and mostly because of our household income.

Then there is the child-based, state-specific insurance Iris has.  This coverage is tied in some part to having qualified for Medicaid but also to her diagnosis of dysphagia. It is great because it covers all her feeding therapies plus her outpatient occupational and physical therapies that we go to weekly.

Then (!!) there is my private insurance that we have through my work.  Such stellar an insurance I've never had.  We don't have a premiums or co-pays and I've never seen a bill for any of the infertility whatnot we did nor the child deliveries, smooth or jenk.  It is a blessing on so many levels.

The two things that my private insurance doesn't cover which are very, VERY important are: 1) the majority of Iris' outpatient therapies (we only get so many in a calendar year through my private insurance) and 2) the intensive feeding program for which Iris is on the waiting list. The intensive feeding program that Iris needs so very badly.  The program that costs $18,000 to $20,000 for the eight weeks.

So we have two issues:

1) Will the state-specific insurance solely pre-authorize/cover the intensive program without Medicaid in the wings to help out?  The insurance woman on the phone yesterday and the feeding program woman on the phone this morning both said "likely." Because of the dysphagia diagnosis this illustrates a continued need in the eyes of the provider.

2) Because of our income and the loss of full Medicaid, we need to pay an annual premium of $2900 for the state-specific insurance.  Obviously this is a STEAL when thinking about the relative cost of the feeding program, but not as much so when thinking about the coverage for her outpatient therapies.  This is only because Iris has been mostly discharged from those weekly appointments as she is so caught up.  We now only have to go monthly for OT and PT.

Also, the $2900 is only a steal as a binding contract (which the insurance woman emphasised) IF they cover the intensive feeding program.  Otherwise not so much.  It could end up being a wash between paying out of packet for the therapy appointments or paying out of pocket for the state-specific insurance.

(Pant...pant...pant...) 

Bottomline:  We neeeeeed the state-specific insurance to cover the feeding program.  Thinking that they might not makes me need a paper bag to breathe into because I honestly don't think we could swing it financially if they don't.  Also, it has been the thing that T and I and her feeding therapists have been hanging our hopes on in getting her feeding jump-started.

Would the world end if this all didn't shake out as I am so fervently hoping and praying?  No, no it would not.  But I would be crushed and really dismayed for Iris.

And I don't want that.

Love/hate Monday

Love: My husband and how hard he works.  Today he has a meeting with the CEO of the 34 billion dollar global company he works for.  I'm proud of him.

Hate: Seeing him a tidgy nervous.

Love: Seeing more and more of Iris' personality.  She is...a pistol and not to be deterred.

Hate: The lone wolf evenings I've had lately.  I've just been dreading them, and I'm not sure why so much so as I used to take them in stride.  Could be because it's darker earlier or it could be because it makes me miss T or who the hell knows.  Just not a fan.  Ah well.

Love: I had my hair cut and colored this weekend and holy snakes does it look better.  She only had to take off a quarter of an inch due to funky ends and this made me happy as I thought my hair would be much worse for the wear.

Hate: I still don't know how to work a curling iron and really need to learn. Starrfish, expect an email soon.  For reals.

Love:  I made it to the grocery store yesterday and planned a menu for the week.  Hooray for the kids not getting scurvy!

Hate: This, of course, means I have to cook and balls alive I hate cooking.  

Love: The Miles Davis station on Pandora.  

Hate: Tights.  Tights are totally bullshit.

Love: Leggings.  Leggings are marvelous and give my legs happy, warm hugs.

Hate: Last night Ezra--we think--got out of his bed sleepwalking and knocked over his humidifier and started crying and was scared.  When I scooped him up, his little heart was racing.  He calmed down and went back to sleep after a bit of rocking.

Love: I am wearing a new dress today.  This one, in fact.

Hate: I realized the other day that I can't wear anything remotely empire waist because it reminds me of being large and knocked up. 

Love: The speediness with which I was able to get into my doctor next week.

Hate: It is for Issues related to my uterus which makes me angry because, hello!, you already jenked out on me once, Ute.  Remember?--the whole delivering babies a tick early thing?  Get it together.  Seriously.

Love: My work schedule this week.  It is quieter and better.

Hate: Feeling like I want to punch impatient people in the neck.

Love: Dip.  That is all.


What are your current loves/hates?

About that elf

So Iris and Ezra were pretty jazzed about the elf. I even typed up individual letters with the elf introducing himself to each of them and sharing that he likes to eat treats because what toddler can't relate to that? 

Alphabet, as that seems to be his name, was discovered on the couch with the remote in hand.  He has been snuggled and kissed. His name could actually have been been Carlos instead of Alphabet as Ezra went through a phase this summer of naming everyone "Carlos" which actually is kind of badass. 

As for whether or not they believe it's real, I believe the jig was up even before it got rolling.  Minutes after discovering him, Ezra asked why his mouth wasn't moving.  "Doesn't he want to talk, Mama?"  "He just met you, so he's feeling shy."  "NO, MAMA!  IT'S PRETEND."

Alrighty then.

Produce All the Things: Venture #5

Last weekend I decided to make homemade mozzarella sticks in the oven.

Deep frying scares me--not only because it is a slippery slope for my already pear-shaped lower half, but mostly because hot grease just spells "disaster" in my book. I go right to the end of times and picture burns a la Mel Gibson in Man Without a Face.

T and I once received a Fry Daddy Junior as a gift and I didn't even crack the seal on that beast for fear that we would being frying all the things (mushrooms, meat, doorknobs) not currently nailed down in our house.  Instead I sold it to my cousin at a garage sale.

At any rate, I spotted these mozzarella sticks on Pinterest and knew I could tackle it.

Things needed: mozzarella cheese sticks, won ton wrappers, olive oil, an oven, some sauce.

I broiled them for maybe 10 minutes and while they sooooo did not turn out like the picture (the cheese leaked and oozed out each end of the stick) they were ridiculously easy, didn't take long to prepare and were pretty tasty.

There aren't any after shots because as soon as they came out of the oven--they were snagglepussed for eating.

Cheesy goodness, ahoy!

Little creeper

Last year I became super intrigued with Elf on the Shelf.  "What a novelty," I thought. "A little elf, kind of like Waldo, who hides and helps kids get into the Christmas spirit!"  But Ezra and Iris were kind of smallish so I skipped it.

And then I started digging more into the the story behind said Elf and got kind of ...skeeved out?  Dismayed?  I don't know.  The basic premise being that this little Elf person hides each day and the kids find him.  He is also Santa's toadie and totally reports back to Santa on the kids behavior.  

Hmmm.

Not being 100% sure how I even want to pitch Santa to Ezra and Iris (another post in itself...) plus not being a fan of the good behavior = gifts-for-you mentality, I still really wanted to do this Elf-thing

So I went renegade Elf.

Instead of ordering the hard, plastic-y Elf complete with propaganda book, I ordered the softer, plushy Elf.  With brown skin.  He's supposed to be cushier but we've yet to experience this as he's currently languishing in a box from Amazon.

Also, we've decided to not pitch him as the eyes and ears of Santa who reports on behavior.  T and I do that; Santa's a poser.  Instead, Elf is a holiday friend who comes to visit each year, likes to hide and eat Christmas treats--so they need to find him each morning.

The end.

I'm excited.  I think it's going to be fun.  Plus who doesn't enjoy some brown elf excitement?

Wherein my husband escapes unscathed

I have decided that Christmas cards are the old school equivalent of blog posts, what with their photos and random useless tidbits...and I loooove Christmas cards.  Photo ones?--even BETTER!  You include an epic note--typed even!--updating me on your 2011 escapades?--tongue kiss for you!  

Once we had Ezra, I decided it was time for us to forge our way into photo Christmas cards.  T, not being of this country, was dubious of how great these would be but he took one for the team.  It was an okay card.  Ezra looked cute and T was smiling jovially, but my hair was unfortunate and I still had some baby weight poofing out my face.

The following Christmas we skipped it all together because Iris was in the hospital and everyone knew what was what with our family.

In last year's photo, Iris didn't have her oxygen tubes and Ezra held a maraca.  The entire two hours leading up to the photo T groused, but, again, he smiled like a champ.

Choosing the photos is always a beast because I am vain and want to look halfway not like a douche.  However! This year I am using one of the pictures from the kids school photos since the photographer allows parents to buy the digital image.  There is one photo that turned out pretty cute and I'm jazzed.  Plus T's early Kwanzaa gift (just kidding...he doesn't celebrate Kwanzaa) is him not having to be in this year's card.  

Hurrah!

Tiny Prints is running a holiday blog campaign and graciously offered me 50 free Christmas cards in exchange for telling you which card(s) I like and will plop my kids' image on.

Because the image is portrait, I need to make sure the card I like displays it that way.  Tiny Prints site is handy because on the left you can sort by the type of card you're looking for.

These the ones I'm digging.  Now to just choose one...

Style: Dainty Bliss

Style: Colorful Collar

Style: Dotted Tab

Style: Festive Monogram

Style: Joyful Script

Things that are b.s.

Because nothing says "Happy Holidays, motherscratcher..." like a list of things that are giving me the furrowed brow of feeling perturbed.

1. Traveling with toddlers
2. Store bought pumpkin pie
3. When your one year old, pre-lit Christmas tree is no longer pre-lit
4. Co-sleeping in a hotel room with someone who is a) tiny and b) thrash-y with small paws
5. Crumbies on my floor.  Always with the crumbies.
6. A clogged toilet
7. Rain
8. Having cold hands all the damn time
9. Pants that get bigger and more stretched out throughout the day.  My jeans are now officially oozing off my body. WTF, jeans?
10. Not having made it to the grocery store in order to have a plan for dinner
11. Feeling burned out with work
12. Jenky Christmas songs
13. Loud talkers in the library

Feel free to share your beefs (beeves?) in the Comments section.

Unsavory nugget

We've (I say "we," but really it's Ezra) yet to completely nail with 100% accuracy #2 in the potty.  It's cool.  He'll hit the nail on the head sometimes at school during the week and rarely at home--but we're all hip to the schedule his lower GI tract operates on, so we just throw a Pull-Up on him.  This way, no additional Transformer undies are taking a hit where it hurts.


But things Happen. And, as a result, sometimes I'm left with the Baggie of Doom upon pick-up at the end of the day.  


The other week I washed the contents of Baggie of Doom in hot water and extra soap but upon transferring it to the dryer, it still smelled like poo.  I'm thinking, "What the hell did the kid eat that hot water can't nuke the smell?"


The undies looked good but the jeans?--gah.  Still so stinky.  So I open them up and, lo, there was still POOP IN THEM.  Trapped like a rat, a full on nugget that made it through hot water in my new washing machine.


I washed poop.


I gagged, threw it down the toilet and washed the jeans in hot water again.


Things smelled better after that cycle.

Party

On Saturday we had my family over to celebrate Iris' birthday.  It was cat-themed but still I could not convince T actually get a cat.  

Sigh. 

Soon enough.

Practicing "Happy Birthday" and "I NEEDS CAKE!"

Jeggings butt!

Kitty.

Holy lands, Christmas is going to be nuts.  She
LOVED opening presents. 

I don't know where in the sweet baby
Jesus she was trying to go here
but she had to JET.

T still wrestling the bobcat.

Still wrestling.

Standing still.