california day #7, also known as a dedicatory post to the ultrasound tech who earned himself a cold fold-out chair for his eternity in the fiery place

i realize that i'm pretty much all over the place with my postings, but what can i say? i'm a random gal.

i wrote earlier about one story about our trip in december to california, and i figured i'd share another, mainly because i can now find the humor in it.

but at the time it happened? not so much.

it was the day before we were leaving, and what should have been my 3rd day in disneyland. we had also made a little baby-sitting swaparoo deal with carrie & troy:

(a visual for your pleasure. they are even less normal than they look in this picture.)

where one couple would put all of the kids to bed while the other couple was able to go back to the park and actually ride some adult rides. (not that the 20 times on the "bug's life" slower-than-molasses toddler train isn't a blast.)

on the first night, we had watched carrie & troy's kiddos & the 3rd night they were planning on taking care of our hooligans.

but unfortunately, i woke up on disney-day#3 with some pain in my stomach. i got up and got ready anyway, and ate a little breakfast.

big mistake.

as soon as i put something in my stomach it was rejected and i ran for the bathroom. the sharp, upper abdomen pains didn't go away after the food found its way back out of my esophagus. in fact they increased.

i came out of the bathroom, told ben that i wasn't feeling well and he should take the kids without me, and hopefully i would be able to meet up with them later. i was bummed, and hoped it would pass.

but 7 hours later, i was still in a crazy amount of pain and running to the bathroom about every 20-40 minutes. there was nothing i could do once the stabbing pain would start and i had experienced this same illness right before thanksgiving. same pains, in the same place. and they were only getting worse.

so when ben called in the afternoon, i asked him to call our insurance to see if we had out of state coverage. i didn't go to the dr. the first time i had gotten sick in november, but was starting to wonder if these were gallstones or something.

unfortunately the only thing our insurance covered was an out of state ER visit. well i felt that was a bit dramatic, so i decided to just wait it out.

ben and the kids came home that evening, the kids ate dinner and went to bed. i was still sick. and by this point, add a bit teary to the story because it had taken MONTHS to save up for this dang trip and i had missed out on an entire day of fun, not to mention what should have been a date night with ben.

at about 8:30, i couldn't stand it any longer. it wasn't just the pain and the barfing, but also the knowledge that we were leaving first thing in the morning for a 6 hour ride home. so if there was something that i could do to feel better before hopping in that car, i wanted to do it. and take 10 of them.

finally at 9pm, i had had enough. the kids were asleep, we left the adjoining door of our hotel room open for carrie & troy and left for the ER.

i have been a part of many an ER visit and i know that the term "emergency" is used loosely around there.

about 2 hours later, i was finally seen by a doctor who said that i needed to get an ultrasound done to see if there were any gallstones or kidney stones.

and this is where our story begins. (all of that rambling was just backstory info. bet you're wishing i had told you that sooner, huh?)

the ultrasound tech came sauntering up with a wheelchair, looking a lot like this guy:



mustache included.

i got in the wheelchair and we took off! meaning he went fast. a little too fast, because one of the wheels caught mid-spin and the wheelchair lurched forward, almost dumping me out of it.

ultrasound tech dropped the F-bomb and slowed down. at this point i realized that i had more to fear then the stomach pains i had been enduring.

i lay down on the bed, and since i was merely clothed in a hospital gown & my birthday suit, ultrasound tech put a blanket over my legs so i could expose my stomach without exposing the rest of my goods.

as he went to squirt the freezing cold ultrasound jelly on my stomach he looked down and said, and i quote:

"woah! just had a baby, huh?"

ummmm.

huh?

it took me a minute to figure out what he was implying.


i looked around like this:




and then like this:




and when i realized that he was referring to my stretch marks, looked like this:



and this:




{ now here's the deal on stretch marks. i think they are totally lame. not in the fact that when we as women get pregnant, get them, but more in the fact that it seems like there is such a stigma attached to them.

the women who get them (myself included) seem to just want to DIE the minute they see one forming. not all women, i'm generalizing here. we pull out our cocoa butter and oils and lather ourselves up in hopes of stopping the metaphorical tear in our nylons.

and the women who don't get them seem wear it like a badge of honor that their skin is still unscathed and they are just born blessed, lucky and chosen. (again, generalization.)

and some women? they. just. don't. care. and these my friends, are the women to be jealous of.

here is how i feel about stretch marks in general, and mine in particular.

when i was pregnant with caleb, i didn't get one stretch mark until the day he was born. then i think because he hadn't dropped at all and my body just went from:

hey! i'm carrying 17 extra pounds around! no big deal!

to:

holy mother of pearl! there is something inside of me and moving very quickly in the southern direction and i have no control over this! let's stretch out to make room for the party going on!

i remember the utter and sheer disappointment i felt when i came home from the hospital with four small stretch marks on my lower abdomen.

when i was pregnant with leah, i vowed to not have the same thing happen. but right around 8 1/2 mos along, my body disagreed. i ended up with about 6 more stretch marks, all again on my lower abdomen. none of them even reaching my belly button. i realized i was still disappointed about getting them, and decided to change my frame of mind.

so. now how do i feel about them?

well in my quest to figure out why we as women judge each other so harshly, and hold each other up to an insanely high standard...

i own my stretch marks.

i'd like to say i love them, but i haven't quite gotten there yet.

however, i love my children, and they are the cause of the map on my skin and if i had to trade the smoothness of yore for the silvery lines of today i wouldn't.

they signify the journey. so i own them. and quite frankly, if you have them, i think you should too! }

back to the story. there was a purpose for telling you that.

so when ultrasound tech said,

"woah! just had a baby, huh?"

all of that "i own my stretch marks" stuff flew out the window. i became completely and utterly self-conscious.

"well, uh, yeah, uh, a while ago, uh," i stammered.

AND THEN HE SAYS,

"jeez. must have been some baby." emphasis on the some.




HUH?

excuse me?


he did NOT just say that to me!


so i had gone to flustered and self-conscious to ticked off and indignant.


"what is that supposed to mean?" i asked him. with a tone.

even though he was an idiot, he realized his mistake.

"oh, um. nothing. so what's going on with you? why are we doing an ultrasound?" he changed the subject.

"well i've been having some really severe sharp stomach pains and the doctor just wanted to check and make sure i didn't have gallstones or something," i answered, just trying to make it through the rest of the ultrasound without taking the jelly out of his lame hands and squirting it into his eyeballs.

he started laughing.

"what's so funny?" i asked.

"gall stones? doubtful. you're caucasian. my guess is that you ate some spicy mexican food last night and can't handle it." and kept laughing.

that was IT.



"you know, it's really going to SUCK to be YOU if these stomach pains turn out to be pancreatic cancer or something and you just sat here laughing at me in pain," i retorted.

he stopped laughing. cleared his throat. ahem. ahem. aheeeem.

"well, no gall stones," he said quietly.

"fabulous."

my tone was icy.

he wheeled me back at a normal pace in silence.



now i ask you.

what kind of an ultrasound tech asks these sort of questions and makes these sort of comments?

that's right. the kind that earns themselves a cold fold-out chair for their eternity in the fiery place.



mmm-hmm.


{ p.s. no, i did not have pancreatic cancer. the doctor had said that when i got back home i needed to be checked for an ulcer or hernia. no i haven't gotten checked for those. because i chalked the experience up to food poisoning (which my bro-in-law also came down with the next day). caused by what? spicy chinese food. take that ultrasound tech! }

at the happiest place on earth!

in no particular order, here are the pictures of our first 2 days in disneyland. the last day i was in the hotel barfing and let's just say i'm the picture taker of the bunch.

prepare yourself for...

a picture overload!!

california day #2....going #2

so now that the holiday madness is over, i'm going to try to get caught up a little here. i know i still need to post the final installment of the price of freedom, and it will come.

however, i decided to work my way backwards and start, instead with a couple of entertaining stories from our california trip. now as i mentioned, this was not the most restful or relaxing vacation. there were a lot of fun parts, but from the beginning of the trip i should have known that it was going to be a bit rough.

if you've guessed from the title that this story is about poop, you are right. however, it's not gory or disgusting or anything that will make you wish you had not eaten that no-bake cookie (because i'm sorry to say, those remind me of poop) right before you sat down at the computer.

no, in this story, the poop is merely a small character. a supporting actor, if you will. actually, a supporting actor's supporting actor.

so don't worry.

but when it comes to toddlers and babies, unfortunately bodily functions always play some sort of role. am i right, moms of the world?

am i RIGHT??

this was the second day of our vacation in california. as we had driven into anaheim 2 days ealier, it was pouring rain and the rain had not let up for a minute.

leah had been on her sleep-strike for going on 48 hours, which meant we were all on that same strike, (picketing outside buildings and tying ourselves to trees and all of that) whether we wanted to be or not.

trying my best to not give into a bad attitude that was creeping around the corners of my soul, i pumped a little bit of caffeine through my blood. and made the decision that i would not let a little sleep deprivation or bad weather rain on my parade.

we would make the best of this situation if it killed me, darn it!

our hotel had marketed being the proud owners of both an indoor and an outdoor pool. perfect! just for situations like this! i suited myself and the kids up for a lovely dip in the pool. i gathered pool toys, the diaper bag, both kids and some towels. not an easy feat.

only to find out that our "indoor pool" was really just part of the "outdoor" pool but with a four-poled structure built around half of the entire thing. so with wind blowing around 50 degrees and getting wet from the rain before we even dipped our toes in the shallow end, i knew it wasn't going to work.

caleb was disappointed, leah was freezing, and i was now trying to figure out how to make lemonade out of this one.

we got some pizza and went back up to the room. i attempted to force leah to end the strike and take a nap.

silly me.

there was no sleeping to be had. that little lady would have made ghandi with his hunger strike proud.

at about 2pm, the rain cleared and the clouds finally parted. (enter singing angels here.) poor caleb had been pretty much cooped up in the hotel room for 2 full days, so i looked up the nearest park and got the kids ready yet again.

supplied with snacks, drinks, jackets in case the angels decided to go back home and let the rain take over. and we took off.

after getting a little lost, we made it to the park. i use the term "park" loosely because it was pretty much a tiny jungle gym stuck in the middle of some grass with a bench nearby. but i didn't care. and neither did the kids.

we had arrived! let the fun vacation begin! we're at a park for crying out loud! it's better than nothing!

the kids started playing. caleb was loving it, and leah was trying to eat every leaf and piece of gravel in sight. as i was keeping my eye on the kids, i also kept my eye on the two shady gentlemen standing in the parking lot nearby looking like they were exchanging some "items" after opening the back of a van with dark windows.

we were there for about 10 minutes when caleb yelled out, "mom! i need to go potty! i need to go poop!"



{enter stage left, the supporting actor's supporting actor.}



i squinted my eyes trying to see if there was a nearby restroom....this was a park after all, wasn't it? and saw a building a ways off that looked like it resembled a bathroom. so i picked up all of our stuff, and leah, and grabbed caleb's hand to trek off to the potty.

only when we got there, it was locked.

LOCKED.

why oh why?

caleb's requests became more urgent. i racked my brain for an answer.

that's it!

i saw us pass a target as we rounded the corner to the park. targets have bathrooms! that aren't locked!

so we ran back to the car, strapped in and went to the store to find restrooms basically smiling at us.

this should be the happy ending of my story, but it's not.

you see, caleb is a tiny fella. we love him just the way he is, but when it comes to sitting on toilets, it doesn't matter how much we love him...he can't sit on them without falling in. believe me i have tried. so has ben. we've tried strapping his legs around the sides, scooting him forward, scooting him backward.

at our house it's no big deal, we have one of these:

and we were even smart enough to bring it with us on our vacation.

but where was it? oh that's right, in the hotel room.

if we don't have one of these seats, we literally have to hold him on the potty while he "goes" so that he doesn't fall in. i wish i were joking. (i also wish there had been some sort of job description that i could have read before becoming a mother. i wonder if i still would have signed at the dotted line? hmmmm.)

while walking into target, my mind started going through the logistics of this:

1) i was going to have to hold caleb on the toilet.

2) leah loves to lick floors. and all things metal.

3) how was i going to keep leah from licking the bathroom floor and that lovely "special box" (as caleb calls it) in each of the stalls that gets to hold ummmm....trash for ladies experiencing girl week?

4) sometimes caleb takes a while to "go." if i put leah in a cart outside the stall, will she sit there for 10 minutes? will i trust the general public of bathroom-goers at the local anaheim target to not take my darling baby?

i couldn't chance it.

5) wait! target carries those potty seats! genius.


i had found the solution. so i put the kids in a cart and zoomed down the aisles to find the potty seat. we bought one, zoomed back into the bathroom, i sat caleb down on the seat, and leah and i waited outside the stall for him to tell me he was done.

only he took forrrreeeevvvveeeerrrrr......

and at that moment, leah's sleep deprivation kicked in. she started screaming and wailing and freaking out. head banging while in the front of the cart.

screeching.

women stared at me as they came in. i kept checking on caleb, asking him to hurry.

each time i checked on him, leah's screeches went up in volume. sounding like a wild hyena who hasn't had a square meal in weeks.

i pulled out everything i could think of. of course because i'd been in such a rush i didn't have any toys with me. so we went through the diaper bag. she screamed and tossed each item aside as i continually tried to find something to appease her.

finally i held out my car keys. AHA! metal! she was in love. she licked them, slobbered on them, jingled them in her hands.

a moment of silence.

until she dropped them. on. the. bathroom. floor. EW.

i was NOT going to let her put them back in her mouth. i have limits, you know.

but suddenly, the screeching began. the hyena went wild after seeing that her only source of happiness was now lying 3 feet below her.

and i panicked. i reached down and grabbed the keys and handed them to her quickly. she immediately stuffed them in her mouth.

i dry heaved.

"caleb! are you almost done???" i whispered into the stall door impatiently through gritted teeth.

"um, i think so. almost," was his reply.

she dropped the keys again.

screech.

shriek.

yell.

scream.

i handed them to her again.

she put them in her mouth. again.

i pictured all of the diseases she had just put in her mouth. diptheria, hepatitus a, b, c, and d. random venereal diseases.

i tried not to vomit.

finally, FINALLY, caleb announced he was done.


{enter stage left again, the supporting actor's supporting actor.}



i went to go and help him wipe up.

and it must be mentioned. i'm sorry.

but two of the tiniest little pieces of poop EVER. like, raisin in size.

i lost it. "THERE IS NO WAY THAT THIS IS ALL YOU HAD TO DO AFTER ALL OF THIS!" i said.

"yep! i'm done!" he smiled up at me.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME CALEB."

i'm sure the other women in the stall either were laughing or wondering if i was the poop nazi or something. what was wrong with that woman berating her son for not producing more fecal matter? how could she be so cruel?

if only they knew. ugh.

i wiped him, helped him down, washed his hands. sanitized the keys. sanitized leah's hands. debated about whether or not it would be worth the risk of poisoning her by sanitizing her mouth to avoid the diseases she had just ingested. decided against it and just prayed she had a fabulous immune system.

grabbed the potty seat that now stays permanently in the trunk of my car just for another occasion such as this one.

and as we drove away from target, it started to rain again.

we went back to the hotel.

a summary.

i wish the joy in this picture could sum up our trip to california.

i also wish that after a few days of being home, i could look at the silver lining of what went on and be ready to "chalk that one up."

chalk it up to what though? the realization that EVERY SINGLE TRIP i have been on in 2009 has ended or had during it some sort of major illness or disaster??

i know it could be worse, i get that.

i know we made it through in one piece (even though i felt like i left several pieces of my own behind in our hotel room).

but seriously.

when it comes to trips:

I CAN'T SEEM TO CATCH A BREAK.

so here's a slight summary:

2 out of 4 of us vomited
1 out of 4 of us went to the ER
1 out of 4 of us missed a day of disneyland
4 out of 4 of us were severely sleep deprived

however,

4 out of 4 of us had a lot of fun intermingled with the other stuff
4 out of 4 of us...nope, wait. 3 out of 4 of us would totally do it all over again


i won't go through the day-by-day sordid details, however there were a couple of severely "come on! you have got to be kidding me!" moments that deserve their own postings. so they will get them.

one of them being a complete dedication to the ultrasound tech who was checking to see if i had gallbladder stones.

i hope he is somewhere close, has nothing better to do in his spare time than read mommy blogs, is a secret follower of mine, and reads that little ditty. because i have a feeling that after it, he will never open his mouth again. or at least i hope so.

another being the adventure where i...the self-professed germaphobe... let leah suck on my car keys after they had been on the bathroom floor at the local target (multiple! times!).

yeah, go ahead and vomit. i already did.

well luckily i have already come to the point where things are quickly becoming ironically funny. and so hopefully the postings won't reek of the bitterness i felt on the drive home and instead turn around and be able to convey that sometimes things aren't always roses and chocolates, but you can get through them and still cling to the glimmer of hope that you might be able to one day have a successful family vacation.

whatever that means. :)

what does this do best?

just look at her. isn't she pretty?

all of her attachments.

working so hard to turn my cowardly lion mane into something that is resembling of a little more....human. (don't laugh--that's the goal at least)

but with all of that work she has done in the past, during our vacation, this fabulous piece of machinery outdid herself.

what was so brave, so heroic, so beyond all expectations i ever had when purchasing this hair dryer for $25 many months ago?

you guessed it.

this hair dryer

put

our

baby

to

sleep.

in a final act of desperation, after rocking, singing, walking, turning on our own white noise, laying down with her, feeding her, and being at my wit's end,

i finally turned on my hair dryer.

within seconds she was quiet.

within TWO MINUTES she was asleep.

i left it on allllllll night (on the cool setting).

i probably should have been worried about how this was a potential fire hazard.

or more importantly (i'm kidding...or am i?) worried that it could have burned out and i would have been the cowardly lioness for the duration of our vacation.

but was i worried?

no.

i was tired.

and finally asleep.

so.....

congratulations!!
we have two winners for the prize!

first on my facebook page,

kira said:
Can I play too? A hair dryer? Has that already been guessed?

no kira, you awesome cousin. it hadn't been guessed. (and to be honest, i was kind of getting worried that no one would guess it and i'd have to keep the prize) way to make me proud!


then, on my blog posting,

marci said:
Did you turn the blow dryer that comes in the room on low and just let it run all night? I can not think of anything else that makes noise in the room?

marci, i knew we've been friends for this long for a reason!


so since you both answered while i was still in disneyland to get your surprises, email me your address and i'll get them in the mail!

ben.strader@gmail.com

i'll be sending one for each of your kids....i wish they could be enormous and amazing but come on, we're poor students. but they're still cute, fun, from disneyland, and it's always nice to get something in the mail right??

right!

why didn't anyone warn me babies don't sleep in hotels?? (and a prize is offered at the bottom!)

so right now we are here:

where ben is attending a psychology conference and the kids and i are supposed to be out and about on our "vacation."

however leah and mother nature teamed up to make some different plans.

instead of doing ANY of this:

she has chosen to do this:

and the weather has been like this:

instead of what we had hoped to be more like this:
(i will interject here to say that right now the worst feeling in the world is sleep deprivation combined with having the bottom of my jeans wet while walking barefoot around the hotel room. ugh.)

which is leaving me a bit...no, a LOT....like this:

when i would rather be feeling like this:

after much research on what to do to help a baby sleep easier in a hotel room, last night i found a solution.

leah slept the whole night through without a peep. it is still raining and the bottom of my jeans are still dripping, but one out of two isn't bad, right?

so to spread some much-needed vacation-turned-hellacious-3-days-and-back-again cheer, i am offering up a special surprise to the first person who can answer correctly what i used to help her sleep. (only one per comment but you can guess more than once if you'd like to)

this is no joke! the surprise is fun!

so take a guess, give it your best shot.

what would you do in an act of desperation to get your baby to sleep?

and since tomorrow and the 2 days after that we will be here:

i will be checking back probably wednesday or thursday to see if anyone has guessed it right.

good luck!!

and cross your fingers for me that this is, in fact, the happiest place on earth. and that they have a magical room where moms can nap all day long while the dads get to take the kids and stand in lines. :)