Cheerio Confessions

What Tiny's up to this week: Congratulations! You’re now carrying nearly 6 lbs of baby not counting their amniotic fluid, the umbilical cord, or the placenta itself. We’re impressed because that’s a LOT of work non-stop. Are you feeling proud of yourself yet? Well, get to it—you’ve done an amazing job! At this point, your little grower is almost busting out of the womb size-wise, which make their restricted attempts to move much more challenging. Of course, your stubborn little sucker is still trying to move around as if they weren’t in a cramped space. And the accumulationg baby fat deposits are starting to level off so your little butter ball will be padded and warm when they head out of their super snug little home.

So if I was carrying "nearly 6lbs of baby" last week what does that mean for this week?

Some of you may remember I gave up my prized xbox 360 Elite (which was my only outlet) in order to replace our video camera. It was really the only thing I had left I hadn't sold off. I hung on to it as long as I could but I decided I would rather have the ability to record and document our lives (which I love to do) then play video games.
Well I used my fathers day gift (Best Buy gift card) to get Call of Duty 4 for my PC (which is actually pretty high because of my video editing and computer repair work I do for people out of my home office).

I had mistakenly assumed that I could use my wireless 360 controller for this game (like you can with most new games). Turns out you can't and that really sucked. I have never been able to use a mouse and keyboard to play a game like this. I used to play my xbox Live friends in Call of Duty 4 for the 360 all the time after the kids went down at night.

After a day or 2 of really being mad at myself for not checking the controller info out before getting something I cannot return, I decided to try the mouse and keyboard because I LOVE this game. Not that anyone cares but I am actually getting pretty good at it now. Once I beat the single player game I may try online.

This is the only good news I have to post. It's stupid but it's all I got at this point. It's the little things.......

Sha'Nay'Nay is my alter ego. She's the name I go by when I've had enough of my life and I want to be someone else for a while. That's the name I answer to when I can't stand the sound of Mom, Mommy, Mama, Lizze etc. Although no one calls me that anyway so I honestly don't know why I bother.

I've been trying to formulate a blog in my head all day. Nothing sounds good. Nothing does justice to life. And I don't want to sound like "Wendy Whiner" as my Daddy used to call me. Mostly, I just don't really know where to start.

My stomach is killing me. I can say with complete sincerity that I have rarely had pain like this in my life. And I've injured myself quite a bit between 8 years of gymnastics and being a typical hyperactive kid growing up. At least with all of my various injuries, the pain peaked and then began to subside at some point. There is no peak. There is no subsiding. It's just a plateau of intense pain at this point. My stomach/diaphragm muscle is so exhausted from the pain of it all that I can physically feel tremors in it.

You know, rarely in my life have I ever been speechless. I just love to talk. I usually have an opinion on just about everything. But now...I've got nothing. That's how overwhelmed and far gone I am at this point with everything. Rob met with Pattie tonight. He's told me what was discussed. I don't remember it. I'm sure he'll tell you what he can later.

I was a complete slacker today. I didn't make any cards. I didn't update Tiny's pregnancy journals and calendars. I played solitaire on my phone. Watched a lot of pointless television. Napped off and on. And now I'm going to take half of my night-time medications and then I'll take the other half later. Who knows, perhaps I'll have something insightful to babble about once they kick in. Seems to be how it works out every other night. *sigh*

My nightime medications are slowly starting to kick in, which means I'm becoming "chatty cathy". (lol) I debated between discussing the neighborhood drama of late and discussing what my current favorite shows are. I'm going with neighborhood drama for $200. (haha)

Let's see...where to start. We have an issue in our neighborhood with the teenie-bopper boys who like to imagine they tough guys. The one kid's mother seems to almost be afraid of her son. Her daughter seems to believe her younger brother is a "good kid who don't cause no trouble". Apparently she missed him getting hunted down by the cops for fire starting the other day. I'm sure the cops must have misunderstood him. (sarcasm)

Well, lately the teenie-boppers have acquired a basketball hoop (the details of the acquition are shady and hazy and still remain unclear) and begun playing basketball in the street. Now while this isn't necessarily an issue, it becomes an issue because Team Teenie-Bopper doesn't like to play by the same street rules we all followed growing up. *We* had fear of the massive vehicles plowing down the street. *We* respected the fact that they could (and just might) flatten us into asphault pancakes. Team Teenie-Bopper has decided that *we* should fear and respect *them* so long as they are playing basketball. The scene from "Wayne's World" of 'game on' and 'game off' for traffic, doesn't happen here. If we ask them not move with either civilized words or a beep of the horn, we are rewarded with a few colorful choice words or certain fingers being flashed our way. Then they continue to play. Leaving us with the choice to try and drive around them or wait for them to allow us through or just plowing through and ending up on the 6 o'clock news. And they know they we would never go for option 3.

We've called the cops. They made them move the hoop. Only to have it back in the street 20 minutes after the cops have left. We've tried to talk nicely to the older sister, which led to a verbal argument between the sister and my other neighbor (who is very cool). My neighbor called Teenie-Bopper's mom at work and told her that we (the neighborhood) are not going to put up with his behavior anymore. His mom said she's asked her kids to behave or the will get evicted but they don't feel there is anything wrong with their actions.

When did parents become so terrified of their own children? Granted, there are times when Rob and I are terrified of Gavin; however, this is a completely different situation. Gavin's anger and almost un-natural strength when he's enraged make him terrifying. We don't fear him lashing out in general. We fear him actually harming himself or one of us in a blind rage. She seems to fear TB because his behavior is so out of control and she knows she helped create that, that now she doesn't know how to undo it. So she fears him. (Did that make sense?)

It's sort of sad though. Because she lost control of her kids, they will likely lose their home. Only the kids are too self-centered and self-destrctive to care. It's just sad. But at the same time, we live here too and it's only right that we should be able to drive the streets without having to worry about running someone down.

I don't remember being told that being a grown up was going to be about making sure your neighbor's kids are raised properly as well as raising your own children. I don't recall any clause to that effect when I signed on to this parenting gig 9 years ago. *sigh*

I'm not looking for perfection here. I'm looking for responsibility. I'm looking for decent parenting skills. I'm looking for some humanity. Is any of that really so much to ask for? Or are my expectations simply set to high? I mean, I get the whole "boys will be boys" or "just leave them alone, they're kids" mentality. However, at the same time, the kids need to have a basic understanding of respect. Respect for others. Respect for self. It's one thing to ride your bike down the biggest hill in your neighborhood at 12noon. It's something entirely different to ride your bike down that same hill at midnight while screaming at the top of your lungs, ya know? Or like while treasure hunting...the *only way* to get to that "uncharted plot of island" was through three or four different neighbors yards. You could get there. You could even cross through those yards to do it but that didn't mean you had to trample Mrs. Smith's prize roses to get there, you know?

Simple respect. Respect for every little thing. For other people, whether you like them or not. Whether you agree with their lifestyles or beliefs.

I just can't help but wonder when things went from respect based living, to gimme-gimme-mine -mine-mine based living snd how do we get back to the way things usued to be.

As my amazing wife posted earlier, we are at a loss trying to come up with a name. Lizze and I are overwhelmed. We are physically and emotionally exhausted from the past 7 years. So I am reaching out to you guys for some help...

We need ideas for a first and middle name. We are having a tough time putting thoughts together let alone come up with something this important.

So please post a comment to this blog with a name idea or ideas....


Thanks in advance for your time. Hopefully this should prove to be fun..

Thanks

I just wanted to take a minute and welcome those of you that are new here. Lizze and I were so excited to here from you guys today... Your kind words, thoughts and prayers are much appreciated.

We love to hear from all of you. Again, welcome. We hope to hear from you again.....

There is no way we could ever repay all the kindness you amazing people have shown us since we made this blog public. Please know we keep each and everyone of you in our thoughts and prayers. Thank You...

Honestly, I don't know if today is day 98. I've lost track. Not that it matters much. The whole point is that I've been on strict bed rest now for over 3 months! And bed rest in general for just over 4 months. Insanity.

Tomorrow is my second to last appointment with Lisa. It's bitter sweet because while I will definitely miss her. I will not miss the injections. (lol)

I just can't believe that we are winding down to the end. It seems like just the other day I was "late" and shocked to find myself carrying another little miracle. (Never tell me I can't do something because that's a sure-fire way to guarantee it. lol)

Now of course Tiny is massive. His butt in planted in my ribs and causing pain pretty darn close to what I had with the DVT while pregnant with Elliott Richard. I would double over with the pain, except that bending at the "waist" (my waist disappeared a long time ago lol) makes the pain worse. So I just try and stretch out as much as possible to minimize the pain. It's actually making living and functioning quite unbearable at the moment.

We still don't have a name for Tiny. I've resigned myself to one of a few things taking place:

1) I will simply put "Tiny" on his birth certificate and be done with it. (Not likely but looking more appealling everyday.)
2) I will just let Rob fill out the paperwork and wash my hands of the whole thing. (Again, not likely but looking more appealling everyday.)
3) I will just open a baby name book and name him the first thing I place my finger on. (Girl or boy, I don't care at this point.)

Rob has been trying to discuss names lately and I honestly want nothing at all to do with it. The idea of discussing names physically turns my stomach. Gavin is convinced Tiny's name is Alex and when I explain that we don't know what his name is I get screamed at. *sigh* I honestly hate all names at this point. Rob asked me for my top picks the other day. I don't have any. I hate them all. None of them feels right. None of them sounds right. I'm just over-loaded on stupid baby names. I mean honestly, do I look like a chick that needs more pressure right now?! *pfth* Whatever. Forget it.

I was going to write more but the pain in my belly is getting worse. I keep expecting to look where it hurts and see a bruise there. I'm always surprised when it isn't there. I have cards to get done. A mess to clean up from making the cards that need finished. And I have to try and maintain some sanity through this pain. (Not likely.)

98 down ~ 37 to go

Wow. I can't believe the weekend flew by so quickly. Not that weekends hold any "special" meaning apart from the rest of the week at this point. But anywho...

Let's see if I can remember what went on this weekend.

Friday - Gavin spent the night with Grandma W. Rob, Elliott Richard and I stayed in and hung out. Same song; different day.

Saturday - Rob, Elliott Richard and I hung out. I worked on cards. Rob fiddled with the desktop and straightened up around the house. Elliott Richard spent most of the day with Aunt Kate and Grandma G doing some running around and shopping. After Grandma W brought Gavin home the three of us packed up and headed over to Grandma and Grandpa G's to celebrate Father's Day. Everyone was there. And I was thrilled to learn that even though we were "fashionably late" we hadn't missed out on the cookout! (Yippee!) And I ate *way* too much food. (lol)

Grandpa G got a set of ceramic coasters that look like big golf balls. (Very cute.) He also got an Indian's jersey and tickets for him and Mom G to an Indian's game. Mom G got an Indian's t-shirt too! (Very cool!) They are both really excited to go.

Then Rob opened his card from everyone and found a gift certificate for Best Buy inside! :) (Thanks guys!) We left not long after the opening of gifts/cards and of course made a beeline for Best Buy. (lol) Rob picked out a game for the PC while the boys and I waited in the car. Which was *loads* of fun. (That's sarcasm, by the way.)

First, Elliott Richard was moving around in his carseat. He wasn't touching Gavin or even attempting to touch him. Yet Gavin decided he didn't like the fact that Elliott was moving in his general area so he began to scream at Elliott and then scream at me to "make him stop". I told Gavin I can't yell at Elliott for *moving*. Which of course set Gavin off further. *sigh* Then Elliott wanted Gavin's attention for something so he said his name. Which set Gavin off, again! That time Gavin began screaming at me, "Mom! Mom! He's saying my name! Tell him to stop! I don't want him saying my name!" Again I told Gavin that Elliott is free to say whatever he likes (barring cuss words etc) and I would not yell at Elliott for saying Gavin's name. Which set him off, again! At that point I just told Gavin to ignore Elliott because I refuse to yell at Elliott for taking up space or taking and there was nothing else that could be done.

I am honestly at a loss for what to do anymore. While Gavin has every right to feel the way he does. And while I understand that a large part of it is due to his "something more". I will *not* reprimand Elliott Richard for merely existing, taking up space, or talking etc. That's not to say that I won't reprimand Elliott if he actually misbehaving (ie right up in Gavin's face, screaming at him etc) because I will. The same will hold true for Tiny. I don't mean to sound cold or heartless but I will not constantly relocate Tiny and myself because Gavin is upset by his crying. I also will not reprimand Elliott Richard for being a little boy because it doesn't jive with Gavin's view of the world. I know he can't help it. I just don't know how we live wth him/along side him. With two small boys under the age of 3 and Gavin that's something that needs to be figured out. *sigh*

Sunday - Father's Day was pretty quiet around here. Grandma and Grandpa G took the boys to see Great Grandpa B and celebrate Father's Day with Grandma G's side of the family. They had a blast! And Rob and I were given one last little break before the sleep deprivation begins. :)

Overall, it was a pretty low-key weekend, which was nice. At least there wasn't anything too out of the ordinary or stressful going on.

Now I need to find a way to make something smoothered in cheese for dinner....yum....gooey cheese...

So I'm swiping a line from Mr. Rogers here. The people that you meet each day...this blog's for you. (Now I'm swiping from Bud Weiser. Lol)

Dear random neighbor,

While I appreciate your zest for life and love of family, it truly is un-necessary for you to stand in the middle of the road to discuss such personal matters as: baby-momma payments (otherwise known as child support), who the new baby-momma is (and whether it's considered 'cheating' if you are just booty-calls etc.). It definitely is not advisable to proclaim how strong you are and what a wonderful job you are doing in not "pulliing yo baby-momma out-tha-car for a beat down" just moments before you reach *into the open driver's side window* to smack your baby-momma. Not smart. Remember, avoiding angry neighbors and calls to the police is just like real estate. It's all about location, location, location.

Dear many not-so-random neighbors,

With the discovery of the automobile eventually came to invention of the horn. It's a fabulous liitle invention. Always available while driving to share your emotions when words just aren't enough. Or when words *are* enough but you really don't need them repeated (remember the situation in daycare that just got cleaned up from last month? Yeah, that's my point...)That's why we were given the horn. To replace the "eff you's" with "beep beep's". However, it is a gross misuse of "The Power of the Horn" to use it as a doorbell.

Yes, I realize that you are "busy" and very likely lost in your own head going over and over a list of everything that needs to done. But honestly, would it kill you to pull up (which you do anyhow), place the car in park (again, which you likely do anyway), and then rather than continuing with the current method (which includes leaning on your horn at all hours of the day and night until *someone* responds) you could deviate and be considerate of the rest of the block. Rather than honking us all into insanity or simply a blinding-sleep-deprived rage, you could get out and go up to the door and knock or ring the actual doorbell. Just as effective in the long run with only slightly more effort involved. Of course, if the sole purpose of using the horn is to save you from having to actually *move* (Gasp! The horrors!) then you aren't likely to knock on the door. So how about you pick up your cell phone and only disturb ONE household; as opposed to the whole block? Just a thought...

Dear dog-lovers in our neighborhood,

Just to clear a few things up that may have confused you:

No, I do not think your unleashed, unregistered, and likely very dangerous (beit by breeding or by training or both) Pit Bull is cute/sweet/well-trained (insert various adjectives here). Your dog terrifies me and I do not want to make friends with him/her. As such, you allowing said pooch to roam the neighborhood does not give me warm fuzzies. It gives me great pause and reason to call the dog warden in order to protect myself, my family and my neighbors. So save us all the time, hassels, and heart palipations and get a leash or leave Fluffy in the house.

Yes, dogs will bark. And yes, smaller dogs will usually bark more than most. (Gotta love that "Little Man Syndrome".) Admittedly, at first it did not bother me. Then I realized that it did not bother you either. Ever. I also later realized that your dogs spend nearly all day, everyday out in the fenced in yard. So rather than barking a few times a day, we now have it all day, everyday. Thank you for that. My life is now complete.

I think I'm done now. (lol)

PS This blog was meant as a tongue-in-cheek sort of vent. And odds are if you know about this blog and have read this one; it does NOT apply to YOU. :)

I just love when teeny-boppers call *my* cell phone and give me attitude and lip. Here's how the call went: (remember her voice was high-pitched and attitudey in that way only a teenage girl can pull off)

Me: Hello? (I didn't know the number.)
TB (Teeny-Bopper): Hi!
Me: Uh...hi?
TB: Hi! (can't you just picture her doing that head bobble thing?)
Me: Ummm...
TB: (catching on): Uh...who are YOU?
(remember she called ME!)
Me: Who are you looking for?
TB: Oh, for-get it! (click)

Yeah, so I just love getting those phone calls.

(That's sarcasm by the way.)

So lately I've had to start taking an Ambien at night to sleep through the contractions (that accomplish nothing) and the back pain (which also accomplishes nothing). Ambien is a wonderful thing for a 34 week bed-rest bound pregnant woman. I still wake up if I have to pee or if Elliott Richard needs me. But I do not wake up for half-hearted contractions,, charlie-horses or stabbing siatic back pain. Unfortunately, I have developed a tendancy to have off-the-wall conversations with Rob (in person) and Nikky (via text messages). (lol) And the dreams I have towards the end, when it's wearing off, are...quite...interesting.

Take last night's dream for example, I dreamt that I woke up in bed next to Rob and I had slept through most of labor and pushing! I awoke to find Tiny's head already out and looking at me!! (Ack!) In my dream, I wasn't freaked out by the fact that his head was out and he was looking up at me. He had the cutest chubby cheeks and a head full of hair. (Gavin was born completely bald. Elliott Richard had some strawberry blonde peach fuzz that was either shaved off or pulled out during IV's etc in the NICU.) I just finished pushing and out he came.

It was kind of nice because everything was very calm and peaceful. No second guessing. No running around like chickens with our heads cut off. Just pushing and snuggling. Although I prefer for that "pushing and snuggling" to take place within the safety of my local L&D. (lol)

Rob said he had a dream about Tiny being born as well. Perhaps he'll share that later because I haven't heard the details of it yet.

We are supposed to go to Mom & Dad G's tonight to celebrate Father's Day. I think it will depend on how I'm feeling as to whether or not we go. For now, I'm off to work. (haha) The cards won't make themselves, that's for sure. ;)

95 down ~ 40 to go

So I've had like 4 or 5 different appointments this week. I can't believe I haven't updated on any of them.

Actually, I can believe I haven't updated on them. I haven't updated because my laptop died. It's official. It's dead and gone. So now I have to use the desktop. I don't like using the desktop. It's a perfectly lovely little desktop. And I'm sure Rob could tell you all about all the bells and whistles that it has, which make it a really cool (sweet, awesome - insert adjective here). But the fact of the matter is, I'm spoilt. I was used to writing my blog and surfing the net where ever I was at any given moment. I was used to not having to share. Now I have to share. And I may be crazy but I think this keyboard hates me. (I'm just throwing that out there.) So it's more difficult for me to post now.

Anyway, here's the run down of the appointments:

Tuesday June 10th - Lisa came bright and early at 8:00am. (For what it's worth, when I set up the standing weekly appointment at 8:00am every Tuesday I was already up. Now that school is out, not so much.) I can't find the stats for that appointment. So we'll just assume that all was well in the land of Tiny.

Wednesday June 11th - As Rob previously posted I was scheduled to have my BPP and NST at the hospital at 7:00pm, however, they called and asked me to come in at 3:00pm because the tech who was scheduled to perform my NST called in sick. This meant that the family members we had invited could not make it because they were all at work. It also meant that we had to run around like chickens with our heads chopped off in order to get everyone ready and where they needed to be. In the end, everyone got ready. Everyone got where they needed to be. Here are the stats:


After the BPP we went upstairs to L&D (my favorite place to be) for my NST. It went pretty smoothly. I had a few contractions but nothing major and was released after 30-45 minutes. Here are those stats:


Thursday June 12th - We saw Dr. D at 11:00am. I asked him about feeling woozy lately. Told him about my extreme nausea. Was given a refill on my Phenergan. And had my blood sugar and iron levels checked. He also said that if I go into labor before 37 weeks, he won't try and stop it. He'll just let me go and allow Tiny to make his grand entrance. He also gave me an end date for this all. He said that if I make it to 37 weeks, he will release me. So at 37 weeks I can stop taking the Procardia, no more Heparin injections and full release from bed rest. (Yippee!) So the end is in 3 weeks unless Tiny decides otherwise. Here are the stats from that appointment:


I turned out to be slightly anemic so they started me on iron suppliments. I made the mistake of taking them a few hours ago and all they did was make my nausea worse. So now I'm hot and nausous and I can't get it to go away even with the Phenergan.

(PS I'll scan the ultrasound pics and post them later. Oh and the spinkle pictures and belly pictures too.)

94 down ~ 41 to go

I'm so far past overwhelmed at this point that I can't even see "overwhelmed" anymore. My pregnancy is nearing the end and while that's amazing because we've made it this far; it also sucks. I want it to be over because I'm in so much pain and I can't seem to find any relief. But I don't want it to be over because I feel like I haven't had a decent chance to really enjoy this pregnancy. It feels as if every moment has been about everything and everyone else. And the few moments that weren't about everything and everyone else, were spent trying to figure out "should we call", "should we go in".

I'm tired. I'm stressed. I don't even really know which way is up anymore.

I go to bed every night and I pray. I pray that God will give me more patience. That tomorrow we won't have massive meltdowns every hour, how about every two hours? I pray that Gavin will not physically lash out at Elliott Richard because Elliott had the audacity to love him. I pray that Elliott Richard will finally realize that he cannot touch, cuddle, snuggle or even talk to Gavin. I pray that his sense of self-preservation will kick in and he will learn to avoid Gavin. I pray that the next day won't be as exhausting as the one before. I pray that God will help me to find a way, any way to make it work with three boys. I pray that we haven't dug ourselves in too deep. I pray to make it through one more day pregnant with Tiny. Then I pray that Tiny comes soon because I don't know how much longer we can keep going like this. I pray that God will show me the way and be obvious about it because I'm so tired that subtleties are lost on me right now. I pray that God will just tell me what Tiny's name is meant to be; because we are struggling to find one and that's just one more thing on the pile right now. I pray that Tiny will be "typical" because I don't know that we could handle another child "with something more" and Elliott Richard deserves to have a sibling he can relate to. I pray that if I am to have Tiny early, that it's also obvious. I need a gush of fluid or contractions every 3 minutes apart. Anything that screams "This is it!" and leaves no room for guessing.

Mostly, I pray for help. Over and over again. "God, please help me." I pray for it until I fall asleep.

Sometimes I wonder if God can hear me. Other times I know he must hear me because I scream it inside my head. I scream it so loudly that my head hurts. A piece of my heart breaks with every scream. Surely God can hear that. Surely he must know how absolutely terrified I am. How I'm terrified I will miss a subtle change in my pregnancy. A change that if caught would mean Tiny lives. But once missed, means he is lost to us forever. Surely he must know how I think of myself. How everyone proclaims to see this wonderful, giving mother and all I see is a failure. I failed to protect Gavin from the abuse. I failed to protect him after we left, which was my sole purpose in leaving - to protect Gavin. How I fail everyday to find a level on which to relate to Gavin. How I fail to accomplish everything that needs done. How I fail to be strong enough, smart enough, calm enough. Surely he can hear my cries begging him to make me more. Make me better. Make me stronger. Make me more. Surely God knows how much we need him. How quickly we are drowning. Sinking faster than the Titanic. Surely he hears us and knows. "God, please help me."

People send me forwards. Funny forwards. Religious forwards. Heart-breaking fowards. I get them all. I read them sometimes. The religious ones always give me a moment to pause and think. Grandma Gene sent me one weeks ago. It showed a man walking and he was hit by a tiny pebble. But to that man, that tiny pebble might as well have been a boulder. He stops and he turns around and screams. He screams because he's had enough. He screams because that pebble got through and while the pebble was tiny to God, it was huge to the man. He screams until he notices Jesus standing there. Shielding the man from all the other hundreds of pebbles and boulders and stones that are being thrown. Jesus looks down at the man and says, "Sorry, I must have missed one."

I get it. For every pebble, for every boudler, for every stone that we are hit with; God is shielding us from many, many more. I get the meaning of it. I don't feel it. But logically, I get it. I just wish I could feel it too. I wish the few that get through, didn't feel so big and life altering.

Rob has been updating about the goings-on in our household lately. However, there are a few things I want to say as well. (I wrote this but somehow I ended up signed in under Rob's user info. I would repost it to correct it but we'd lose the comments.)

What kind of world are we living in? That our legal system is so quick to trumpet "Family Re-unification", "Save the Family"; and therefore so quick to toss the best interests of the child to the side of the road. I'm all for family re-unification. If, and only if, it is in the best interest of the child. I'm sorry if a parent is an alcoholic, an addict, mentally ill or abusive, or they simply don't care enough to be involved. I feel for them. However, it is not our responsibility to follow these "adults" around and try and force them into roles they obviously have no interest in or are simply incapable of filling. It is not our responsibility to make sure they do the right thing. If they choose the substance, the illness or the actions above the child; they have made their choice. Why should we continue to give them second, third and fourth chances to make "the right choice"?

If I have $50 and I choose to spend it on myself rather than on my children. That is my choice. I have made it. Was it the right choice, not likely but that is something I (and unfortunately my children) will have to live with. No one is going to follow me around while I'm shopping with my $50 and ask me repeatedly, "Are you sure that's what you want?" Why should we follow these "parents" who have made their decisions around continually asking, "Are you sure that's what you should be doing?"

It sucks that the children pay the price for our follies. It sucks that they will remember someday that Mommy or Daddy made the wrong decision. It sucks that those children will likely harbor ill-will towards their "parents" for the decisions they have made. But that's life. We cannot possibly protect our children from everything because then they would experience nothing. That's not life.

Life is painful and bloody and ugly. Yet at the same time it's sweet and beautiful and joyful. When we attempt to protect them from everything, we deny them the opportunities to experience life in all it's beautiful, twisted glory.

While we can't protect them from everything; in today's legal system it seems nearly impossible to protect them from anything. Including the big bad wolf that is known and knocking down our door. Nevermind trying to protect them from the big bad wolf that lurks in the shadows and is yet unknown.

What use is it to be a child's sole custodian when your opinion in the "best interest" of your child, doesn't matter. Logically, we should be the one's who know our children best. And therefore are most equipped to say "Yes, little Johnny can handle this." or "No, that's way too much and would throw little Johnny into a tale-spin." Yet, when we attempt to do this. When we attempt to fulfill our roles as advocates for our children, the courts label it as "parental alienation" or "custodial interference". They chastise us and say, "Bad parents! How dare you!" and slap us on the wrist for speaking up.

All the while we have the "non-custodial parent" on the other side of the court room. Drunk and stoned half out of their minds and the court commends them for showing up at all. It doesn't matter that they are under-the-influence, after all, isn't it great that they showed up! "Yay for the non-custodial parent! You came to court to fight for your child drunk and stoned! Here! Have a gold star!"

How did we get here? How did we manage to jump from one extreme to the next? It used to be that men automatically received custody because they were the man of the house and society was a "good ole boys club". Then it was the mother automatically received custody because they were the mothers and it was cruel to take a child from its mother. Now it's supposed to be a fair game. It's supposed to be the child "wins" and the best parent for the job receives sole custody. But that's not quite right either. Now it's the parent with the most money, the best attorney or the smarmiest attorney (the attorney who is willing to win at all costs of self-respect and reputation), or the best connections wins.

Some people will deny this. You can tell these people by their indignation at the idea of a biased legal system. And God bless them for it. Those few people are the only ones keeping our entire legal system from sinking forever into this moral quagmire we have created for ourselves. They are the ones on the street corners protesting. They not only know what the Bill of Rights are; but they exercise those rights. Our country has found itself in an on-going popularity contest. With our citizens going with the "popular vote"; rarely going against the grain to stand up and say "I'm going to do what's right".

Unfortunately, until we can find our way out of this disaster we've created for ourselves...until we can truly become "one nation under God, indevisible, with liberty and justice for all" our children will continue to find themselves stuck in the middle. Bad parenting won't be a negative thing because what does it matter if you are a bad parent; if no one else cares. Children will be lost in the system. Hearts will be shattered and bruised and the "cure" will be getting even. Our children will continue to look in the wrong places for love. They will continue to turn to deaf ears for help. Parents and children will continue to place their faith (the only thing some of them have left) in a legal system that proclaims to protect them. Only to have their hopes dashed and their faith lost because the "good guys" rarely win. And the "bad guys" rarely see justice.

Well today has been very busy. We were very excited today because we were having another ultrasound tonight at 7pm. Also my brother Jon his wife Teri and my sister Kate were coming to see the baby. We tried even when we were pregnant with Elliott to involve people in the pregnancy but no one was really interested or able to really be involved.... So we were really excited at the idea that they were going to come with us. This may be the last ultrasound for us EVER (no more kids)....

Then the phone rang and the hospital canceled the 7pm ultrasound and moved it to 3pm. We had to scatter to change plans with the baby sitter (my mom) and be there in about 30 minutes from the time of the call. Needless to say no one was able to make it to the new time... That really sucked...

Then on the way home I was going to hit our McDonald's that we always hit on our way home from the hospital and guess what, it wasn't there. Apparently it was torn down a few days ago.... ARRRRGGGHHHHH

Gavin has been, well, Gavin today. He held nothing back. He started the day by screaming at Elliott for touching him.... Poor Elliott is so confused because Gavin is rejecting his affection.... Hopefully as Elliott gets older he will understand and not take it personally.......

Lizze is miserable and getting worse as the end draws near. She is in tons of pain and cannot get comfortable at all. The weather has cooled down so that's a plus....

Lizze has been creating away on her cards. New ones will be posted soon. Be sure to check out her fathers day cards there are still a few left.

Over all today wasn't to bad.......

What Tiny is up to this week: Your amazing baby is on the move! They’ve been riding fairly high in your stretched-out womb till now (while kindly compressing your poor internal organs), but now they’re planning on making the big move to your pelvis this week. If you haven’t noticed it already, you’ll be feeling the weight shift that signals that your baby is most likely out of breech position, with their head now resting on your pubic bone. In liver news: although not quite fully formed, your little miracle’s liver is now capable of processing a certain amount of waste. In general, most of your child’s prenatal physical development is pretty much up to snuff and ready for the outside world. Naturally, further weight gain is expected—so you’re still not at maximum capacity despite probably feeling like you definitely are maxed out.

Well it appears that there was another "Mix Up" with the doctors today. We are supposed to see Gavin's therapist tonight but guess what, someone took our time slot again. This is happening all the time. Our last appointment was canceled at the last minute and we just got the call that this one was also canceled.

I would like to know how it is we are supposed to get help when we have no one left to help us. It will most likely be another month before we can get in again......

I am so close to giving up right now. Maybe we aren't meant to get through this because we have yet to catch a break. And that is the truth. We never catch a break. It's one nightmare after another.

We desperately need help with Gavin and we aren't getting it. Our parents help by taking Gavin and we are very grateful but that doesn't fix the problem. We need help living with Gavin. We need to know what to do with him. We are COMPLETELY LOST...and COMPLETELY OVERWHELMED. I don't think anyone really gets that....

Gavin's therapist is also supposed to broker a mediation with Lizze's ex-mother in law in an attempt to get her to she how much damage she is doing and once again try to resolve this peacefully. We are running out of time to deal with this and I have no patience left.

We are using the very best of the best when if comes to Gavin's doctors but that also means they are in demand. We don't pay cause we have no money and Gavin's father won't provide health insurance for him. Gavin is on one of the Medicaid HMO's and some of his doctors will not take it. So I believe everything comes down to money. Those with it get what they need and those without get pushed to the back. Don't get me wrong his doctors are great and we are grateful that they have taken him on under these conditions but we still feel lost. I truly believe if we had the money this court stuff would have been done long ago but we don't so we keep getting dragged through eh mud over and over again. We have no idea what to do.

We all know that Gavin is "Special". We know that he lives in his own world away from the rest of us. We just didn't realize how far away his world really is.

We have come to accept that Elliott and Gavin probably won't ever have a relationship in the way that most brothers have with each other.

Today Elliott had bumped his hand. I kissed it to make it better but that wasn't really what he needed. Elliott saw his big brother Gavin coming down the steps to get some more water. Elliott ran over to Gavin and was almost crying to him that he had a boo boo. He asked Gavin to kiss it and make it better. Gavin pushed him aside and walked right by. Elliott then ran after him begging him to kiss his boo boo. Elliott even said "please" which he rarely ever says but Gavin ignored him. Gavin started back up the steps like Elliott wasn't even there. By this time Elliott was desparatly pleading with him to kiss it and make it better. Gavin returned to his room without any thought to his little brother. Elliott sat down on the step and started to cry the way a 2 year old cries. Then he slowly walked over to us with his head hung and climbed into Mommy's lap and just snuggled. We both had tears streaming down our faces and we asked him if we could kiss it and make it better. Elliott just quietly wispered Gavin.

At that very moment we realized just how hard this is on Elliott. Gavin isn't to blame for this becasue it's not his fault but never the less it impacts all of us.....It impacts all of us in a very real way....

You know how they say everyone has their breaking point? I am no exception to this rule. I just can't tell if I have actually hit mine yet. I know that sounds weird but I have become so numb anymore I just can't tell. I know at this exact moment I don't think I can take anymore. I don't mean that to be dramatic but I think if anything else happens I will just break. Not in a violent way but mentally break down. I already have a hard time even putting coherent thoughts together. I don't remember anything anymore. No matter how much sleep I get it doesn't feel restful and all I have anymore are nightmares.

Lizze is completely overwhelmed and in so much pain. Elliott is so stressed out he doesn't sleep more then a few hours or less at a time. I feel like he is being robbed of his childhood. We cannot play outside because A) I don't have any energy anymore and B) our neighborhood just keeps getting worse. I feel like a prisoner in my own house. I know Lizze feels the same way. We don't want to go outside because or some of our neighbors and we don't want to be inside because Gavin is in there. I know that sounds terrible but he is so indescribably exhausting. I know its not his fault but it doesn't lessen the impact his behaviors have on the rest of us. I slao know I probably sound like a scratched record but it is what it is.

I know I can speak for Lizze when I say we don't want to give up on Gavin but I just don't think we can do this much longer. I know that we won't survive this long term. I know that.. No matter how much we keep pushing ourselves we just don't have much left.
It's like when you are working out with free weights. If you are doing some curls or even bench pressing you can only go for so long before you hit a fail point. No matter how bad you want to do that last rep you just physically can't. That's what it feels like.
I have to much to worry about right know to be able to cope at all. Here's my top worries at the moment:

1) The pregnancy. I could of easily lost Lizze the last time and we almost lost Elliott. That is my worst fear.

2) Keeping Lizze out of jail. I know I said they cannot get away with this but never say never. After all this is our live we are talking about. Anything that can happen will happen, regardless of the odds. If we can fend this one off what will they do next? Because apparently our lives are complicated enough already.

3) How do we ensure the health, happiness and safety of Elliott and Tiny and how long can we keep it up. We also have to take care of ourselves but when? How do I keep my family from falling apart.

4) How do we all live together. Things are only going to get worse for Gavin once the baby gets here. Worse for Gavin means worse for us. More meltdowns and more violence.

5) How do we do all of this without making Gavin feel different (I know we don't think he can perceive things like that but as his parents we assume he can) then the other kids. We don't want him to feel unloved or unwanted but he has to be treated differently then the other kids.

6) How will we survive financially? Because I have no idea how we are going to pull that one off. Retirement? What's that?


There it is. My current worries... All are very real. There are so many more but just listing these has made me sick to my stomach.

We need a miracle.. I am pretty sure that's what it is going to take to get through this alive....

That's my "completely overwhelmed, extremely stressed out and losing my mind" rant for today. I had to blow off a little steam...

Ok now the Lizze update. We had to go in to see Dr.D this afternoon because her contractions were getting really weird. They are 15 to 20 minutes apart but some were lasting 10 minutes. So we had to get checked out.. Same song different day. Nothing we can do but Tiny is doing great. We are almost 34 weeks so nothing will be stopped if she does officially start labor. So we are on edge because we really don't know what is going on but we know it's getting real close. I am sure Lizze will post more later.


Thanks

Wow. I've spent 90 days on strict bed rest. That's just unreal to me. Of course, I've broken out of jail a few times during those 90 days but still. It's been 90 days since preterm labor went from a concern and possibility to a reality. It's been 16 weeks since the ER docs said we were experiencing a "threatened abortion" (I still hate that term.) and if it happened it wouldn't be our fault. Tiny's a fighter, that's for sure. I just hope he has it in him to fight for another 4 weeks.

I've spent the weekend having crazy contractions. They were consistantly 15-20 minutes apart, which is nothing new. But some of them were lasting for 5-10 minutes a piece. I woke up this morning with cramps that were so bad I actually thought for a split second that I was getting ready to start my period. Then I remembered that I was pregnant and that wasn't going to happen. After debating all day, Rob finally called Dr. D's office. They had me come in at 4:10pm.

I had an NST and fFN test done. Dr. D said that while I was having some contractions things looked good. He said that if I go into labor at this point he isn't going to stop me. He'll just let me go and allow Tiny to enter into the world. They gave me a shot of Demerol/Phenergan to help with the pain and nausea from everything. I must admit, it was nice to be relatively pain-free for a little while.

The Stats
Weight: 183 (I gained 4lb! Yay!)
Tiny's Heartrate: 147bpm
NST: passed (3 cx/20m)

For now we are just waiting. Again. I'll be sure to update if anything changes. I'm hoping to make it to 36 weeks but Rob thinks it will be sooner. Let's hope not.

Rob is now cleaning like a mad man. I think he's nesting enough for the both of us. (lol) We have a lot we need to get figured out PDQ. I need to get a duffle bag and pack it for me. Have bags packed and ready for the boys. Have arrangements made for who is taking which boy. There is so much to be done and I just don't have the energy to do any of it.

90 days down ~ 45 to go
13 weeks down ~ 5 to go