2 Legit 2 Quit

This pregnancy has been much different than when I was pregnant with KIC, on many levels.  One bit, in particular, that has been "fun", is the constant Braxton Hicks.  For those unfamiliar, Braxton Hicks is a nice way of saying "you're having contractions but it's not doing anything other than causing you pain."  Apparently, epidurals for Braxton Hicks has not been explored yet.  Someone needs to get on that!  But I digress.

Bean is a very active baby.  More so than KIC EVER was.  It would seem that with his activity level brings Braxton Hicks.  This has been going on since about week 17, in varying degrees of intensity.  I've learned, for the most part, to shrug them off and press on.  Recently, though, my contractions were timeable.  Every five minutes, I was experiencing the joy of a contraction.  The more I moved, the faster, and harder, they came.

When one is pregnant, you are constantly admonished to call your doctor in the event anything out of the ordinary is going on.  I called, told them about my contractions and was summarily sent to the hossabuilding, as KIC calls it.  Since I was so far from my due date, regular contractions like that were definitely cause for concern, though I suspected it was still Braxton Hicks.  I got hooked up to all kinds of fun monitors and gave the usual personal information.  After what seemed like forever, I was seen by a doctor from my practice that I had not yet met.  This is what went down:

Dr:  So why are you in here?
Me:  I had been having contractions every five minutes so they asked me to come in.  They have (of course) slowed down since I got here.
Dr looking at the monitor and not seeing any contractions:  Well, it could be one of two things.  One, you're having pre term contractions or two, you're having pre term labor.  The only way to determine which one it is is to do a cervical exam.  If it's pre term contractions, you'll be able to go home for dinner tonight.  If it's pre term labor, then we're looking at putting you on magnesium sulfate and starting steroid shots.

Side note:  Magnesium sulfate was the thing I was most concerned about.  That stuff has TERRIBLE side effects on the mother, though it does really good things for premature babies.  Anything else, I could have handled.

Me:  Okay, sounds good.
Dr:  Okay, I'm going to do the exam now.
Me (experiencing one of the most painful contractions of the evening):  Ooo, that kind of hurts.
Dr:  Yep, you're legit.  That's a pretty significant contraction.

Ummmmmmm, what??  Did you think I came here so I could get a good night's rest???  Good golly!

The exam found that I was having pre term contractions and not pre term labor.  It seems that my uterus continues to be locked up tighter than Ft. Knox for now.  I was sent home that evening and treated myself to a milkshake on the way home.  My only care instructions are to hydrate, hydrate, hydrate.  Because pregnant women don't spend enough time in the bathroom!!! 

For now, I am happy that Bean gets to cook for awhile longer.  In the meantime, if you see me walking down the hallway singing a certain MC Hammer song, well, you'll know why.

You're singing it now, aren't you?

It is never okay to point and laugh

I apologize in advance as this post may be all over the place.  Things for the Shoups have been pretty emotional (and expensive) lately.  It doesn't help that with Bean in the oven (one of many nicknames for the baby still cooking in mah belly), my hormone levels are higher than normal.  Just ask Brent.  ;-)

Our dog Sunshine, whom we dearly love, adore and cherish, is like a little old lady for many reasons.  As she ages (she turns 13 in January), so, sadly, does her body.  We have been managing diabetes for her for over five years now.  It coincided nicely with the birth of KIC.  "Hey, Shoups, I know that having a kid is an expensive endeavor, but let's throw in a ton of required veterinary care over the next five years to add to the fun!"  We have seen more specialists for our dog than most people see in in a lifetime.  We are dedicated to responsible pet ownership and would do it no matter what.  It's part of the package for us and always has been.  Is it an obligation?  Absolutely.  But is it done with love and respect?  100%. 

 

 



Sunshine's mobility had been failing for about 8 months or so. We noticed weakness in her hind legs and sought both traditional medication as well as homeopathic remedies.  She was diagnosed with diabetic neuropathy.  The vet could bend her rear paw completely underneath Sunshine's foot with no recognition or correction on Sunshine's part at all.  With the medications, we were able to buy a ton of time always knowing that the progress we gained was fragile.  In August, we had a huge scare.  And by scare, our worlds were rocked.  Sunshine's energy level had gradually been going down, but one night, it was clear through her coughing that Sunshine couldn't get enough oxygen.  At 1 am, B rushed her to the emergency vet.  We spent the next 14 hours wondering how long our girl would be with us.  The cost of a used beater car later, Sunshine was diagnosed with pneumonia and sent home with meds.  The oxygen and fluids had done wonders for her system, we knew what we were up against and we added another tool to our arsenal against her aging body.  We had a follow up with our regular vet the next morning, which gave us all peace of mind.  When Sunshine came home from the emergency vet, she was tired from not sleeping or eating much, but her mobility was much the same as it was before. 

The next morning was one of the scariest moments of my life.  I brought Sunshine downstairs, as we always do, since her neuropathy made stair navigation extremely scary for her.  When I put her down, she could no longer support her weight.  When I went to pick her up, I discovered she had defecated on herself.  Overnight, she lost almost all muscle control and seemingly, her bowel control.  I rushed her to the vet and carried her in myself, with KIC trailing behind.  The news from the vet was not good and she braced us to expect the worst.  Brent and I spent much of the day in tears thinking we would soon be saying goodbye to our girl. 

Inexplicably, Sunshine, as she is wont to do, defied the odds.  Her appetite started to increase, though her mobility was clearly lost.  We were sling walking her so she could relieve herself, prompting one very nice gentleman to stop and tell Brent that he had much respect for what Brent was doing and hoped that if his dogs got to the state Sunshine was in, he would do the same thing.  When B came home and shared, we both broke down and cried.  It was an extremely emotional time. 

We started to see that the sling could only be a temporary solution.  At five months pregnant, I couldn't physically support her during her sling walking.  We bought a cart, the cheapest on the market, because we weren't sure if she would accept walking in a cart.  Our reasoning was that if Sunshine didn't take to it, we could always donate it to a dog rescue that could use it. 

 

It took awhile, but as you can see, she eventually accepted it.  It didn't hurt that to goad her into walking in it, I would take another dog with us to provide competition.  ;-)  Nope, not a one of us Shoups is competitive.  The booties on her feet are from when she was at her weakest and dragging her feet as she walked.  If you look closely at the farthest paw, you can see how the weakness would allow her toes to bend under her foot.

 

To reach this milestone with Sunshine was huge!  HUGE!  We were all extremely proud of her and her accomplishment.  I was excited to be able to walk with Sunshine again, without having to worry about her falling and taking me with her.  We walked around in a bubble of pride, praising Sunshine with each accomplishment.  If rewarding her with an M&M every time she peed or pooped was appropriate for a dog, a diabetic dog at that, I would have done it!  Go Sunshine!  Even KIC would walk behind Sunshine chanting "Go Sunshine, Go Sunshine!"  It was a family effort.

 

And then, I started noticing the stares.  And the children outright pointing and laughing.  Some people even looked at us in disbelief and disgust.  I think the perception is that we were prolonging Sunshine's life for our own perverse satisfaction.  I actually began to welcome the folks who asked why she was in the cart.  Nobody knew what we went through to get to that point, nor was I going to give them the full run down, but the number of people who had their own perceived notions about our intentions or how "funny looking that dog is" was incredible.  Sunshine didn't and doesn't care so long as she gets to check her "pee mail" and do her thing, but I could see KIC start to take it in, especially when it was a peer who was doing the pointing and laughing.  It bothered me, more than I can say, and made me so sad.  The bubble of pride had shrunk and had become a bubble of protection.

 

Since school has started, Brent has started taking Sunshine to the bus stop in the mornings.  In a rare move of efficiency for him (cuz he's a boy), he walks KIC to the bus and then walks Sunshine afterwards.  Remember me saying we bought the cheapest cart we could find?  Well, it has come back to bite us in the butt.  The cart bit the dust for good and we are waiting for her custom cart (which was actually not that much more expensive) to come in for her.  In the meantime, the time she had in the cart gave the swelling around her disc compression enough rest that she can walk a block under her own power - albeit like a drunken sailor.  Those kids who were pointing and laughing have been able to see up close and personal the phenom that is Sunshine and KIC is proud to have Sunshine at the bus stop with her. 

 

I know that our society generally looks away from people with disabilities.  The fact that pointing and laughing is acceptable for an animal with a disability is interesting.  If we didn't frown on such behavior when a human being is involved, would we see a lot more laughing and pointing at humans?  Perhaps I am oversimplifying, but a smile always goes a lot further than ridicule.  Maybe people don't want the explanation and maybe I don't want to give it, but before they pass judgement, they should consider that they don't know all the facts and sometimes they really aren't all that important anyway.  Kindness is what counts.

 

 

The face of misery?  Not a chance.

 

In the meantime, we continue embrace each day with Sunshine, now with joy instead of grim determination.  Havoc has taken it upon himself to be her boon companion, her instigator and her general pain in the rear.  We see her happy grin more and more, and each walk seem to be a point of pride for her.  Instead of thinking we have weeks, we now hope we get another couple of years.  No matter the outcome, she'll always be our Sunshine. 

RIP Princess Gypsy 2.0

This is a tribute to one of the neatest creatures we have ever had the pleasure of knowing in the Shoup House.  Princess Gypsy 2.0.

Our first Princess Gypsy, met an untimely demise, so we did what any parents would do.  We eased the sting by getting another Princess Gypsy!  While the original PG taught us what NOT to do and what to look for, she wasn't the nicest critter.  I don't think she had a great start and was saddled with newbie little critter parents in her golden years.  The newer addition was the size of a rat, minus the tail, and so super cute and sweet!  And very tolerant of a little girl continuing to poke her face into PG's cage.

We learned a lot with PG 2.0, especially the need that hamsters have to climb.  We learned that PG 2.0 was bored in her tank as she didn't have many climbing opportunities.  My favorite story with PG 2.0 happens to deal with our habitat transition.

Once I figured out PG was bored, we went to several stores trying to find a habitat suitable for a Siberian hamster.  SHOCKINGLY, there is no hamster specialty store and the workers in various big box pet super stores were less than knowledgeable.  I found this crazy pod looking thing that promised to provide her with tons of climbing opportunities (it did not) and would be spacious enough for our precious PG 2.0(it was not).  We got it in the mail and NannyK and KIC set about putting it together.  None of use had this sense of security about it as the whole construction part was extremely nebulous.  It just didn't seem all that secure and we dumb humans couldn't seem to get it right.  We had moved PG downstairs as she was keeping KIC up at night, but I felt something would go amiss in this new pod.  I moved her into the dining room figuring, if anything went wrong, she wouldn't have to deal with the dogs.  We had to leave for about an hour that evening so it wasn't like constant monitoring was an option.  We loaded the pod with treats to entice her to explore.  Was it my imagination or was she uneasy about her new place too?  Rest assured, there was no dilly dallying that night.

You can imagine my grim satisfaction when we came home and notice the clever PG 2.0 had managed to open her pod and escape.  I think they should advertise this habitat as an escape pod.  We immediately started scouring the dining room for PG 2.0 with KIC's hysterics increasing in volume as each minute passed.  Incredibly, during a panicked call to NannyK about the lost hamster, she was located within 5 minutes of our search.  The wily hamster had managed to jump about 3 feet down from the dining room table and evade  not one, but two, curious felines.  They have since been relieved of their rodent catching duties. 

To my relief, PG 2.0 seemed none worse for the wear.  Except...oh crap!!!  She had blood streaming from her mouth!  Frantically, I'm going through my veterinary rolodex wondering which was the closest to treat an injured hamster and omigod, could they save her?!?!?!?!?!  Wait a minute.  PG is looking at me bright and alert like "what in the world are you raising a fuss about?!?"  But ... there's blood...  Suddenly, sanity set in.  The enticement to explore her habitat?  They were strawberry yogurt bites.  Knowing she was going on the lam, she must have stuffed her cheeks with the yogurt bites and while on the run they melted.  Further inspection showed melted strawberry yogurt bites EVERYWHERE!  Belly, paws, face, with PG 2.0 none worse for the wear.  A presentment of the hamster ball and PG was scooped up and put in the old habitat.  We were back to square one, but the excitement of the escape was enough to last PG for a while until we could find a new habitat.  One that did not act as an escape pod!

In the end, PG 2.0, in her golden months, got a rather sizeable tumor that prevented her from doing much other than sleeping.  We fed her sugar water, which she loved, while we figured out what was wrong with her.  When the official diagnosis came back from the vet, we knew it was time to let her go.  This is definitely not a new topic for KIC, but we were all pretty devastated. 

We have since welcomed Hercules into our crazy Shoup zoo.  True to Shoup humanity form, KIC picked a very sweet, very nice little guy who is losing his fur like crazy due to some mite infestation.  He's a happy little guy, though not our first choice.  Our first choice, much like Princess Gypsy in size and color, was adopted before we could get to the shelter.  Fostering is not all roses for any of the Shoups, and sometimes giving up one of our fosters is gut wrenching.  But, I was grateful that when I told KIC that someone else had adopted Susie, it meant she could rejoice and not be sad.  Whether the hamster is a necessity or not, they continue to teach us more than we could have expected.  And for that, we will continue to be happy to give them a crazy, loving home, melted yogurt bites and all.

RIP PG 2.0.  Thank you for the happiness you gave us all.
https://www.facebook.com/#!/photo.php?fbid=3911642745484&set=a.1064226681862.10525.1111836727&type=3&theater

Semi-wordless Wednesday

 

 

Baby Boy Shoup (not yet named) due end of December 2013.  He's already measuring and weighing ahead of his gestational age, so we'll see when he REALLY arrives (big sister was two weeks early).

Big sister, KIC, is thrilled!

 

My Weird Friends: Post #35 (or something)

My crazy Liberace loving friend and I share some irreverent emails on occasion.  Okay, really, most of our conversations, no matter the medium, take a turn for the weird.  I think in some ways, we set out with grim determination to see who has the most abstract content.

My friend, whose sanity I seriously question, has her daughter at home with her for the next month while waiting to start a new school.  This while juggling the demands of an infant and trying to work 40 hours a week from home.  Bet you are starting to question her sanity as well.  This has been her first full week and if everyone in the household survives the next month, then it will be due to being on the receiving end of man many many miracles.  So, if within the next month, you ask for a miracle and do not receive it, you too can blame my friend Liberace.

To lighten the mood, I forwarded an email I received about artificial insemination of pandas.  The email was titled innocently enough "Giant Panda Update:  Cub Watch Begins!"  I am not sure why I continue to receive emails very technical in nature about giant panda insemination, but I am always happy to share them.  In this email, they mentioned that since Mei Xiang and Tian Tian failed to mate naturally, Mei Xiang had been inseminated twice with the sperm of Tian Tian and another male, Gao Gao.  The following chain ensued:

Me:  No matter how fun Mommy Day camp is NOT, at least you are not getting updates regarding the artificial insemination of pandas.
Liberace:  I'm pretty sure Tian Tian wouldn't appreciate the Smithsonian advertising his deficiencies.
Me:  And if it turns out to be Gao Gao's baby, is Tian Tian going to be expected to raise it?  How come Gao Gao gets off scott free?
Liberace:  Right?!  Is there a mediation lawyer for panda custody cases?
Me:  That could be our million dollar money maker - Panda Custody lawyers!  How's your mandarin?

And that, friends, is how you get sucked into a panda custody wormhole.

Why KIC can never go back to summer camp

My current employer offers a great summer camp deal to all employees.  I signed KIC up for camp thinking it would be a sort of "kindegarten lite."  She would ride the school bus, have to get up early and be in a modified classroom setting for a couple of weeks.  Today was KIC's first day at summer camp.  Between NannyK and I, we have spent hours and hours, weeks upon weeks talking up summer camp and how fun it is going to be.  KIC was super pumped to go to summer camp and woke up with a cheery attitude at o'dark thirty when I indicated it was time to get up.  Breakfast to go, sunscreen, fully stocked backpack (one change of clothes, three pairs of underwear, towel, sunscreen, bug spray hair brush, second pair of shoes, kitchen sink, etc) and we were off!

I took a different way to work today, taking advantage of the fact that I had two people in the car and we would be able to use the high occupancy vehicle lane.  As I travelled down this road, I was reminded, yet again, why I pay $8 a day for the convenience of the toll road.  We BARELY squeaked by to get to the bus that was going to take KIC to camp.  All was well and with a "Bye, Mom!" she was off for her very first big girl camp.  No NannyK, no mommy, no daddy, just KIC alone in the big world. 

All day long, I was antsy with anticipation.  I couldn't wait for 4:00 so I could pick up KIC at the bus stop and hear all about her day!  A friend, recognizing my antsy-ness, offered to come with me to the camp mid-day to check everything out.  I politely declined stating I wanted to hear how KIC's first day at camp went before I started doing the random check ins. 

Finally, 4:00 came (okay, 3:50) and I walked sedately (raced) to the bus stop, gathering other parents along the way.  I waited impatiently for her to get off the second bus, but when she did, she looked happy and said she had a good time.  "Mommy, I was with the graders today!"  "There were graders there??"  (wondering if there were some safety violations I should be concerned with)  "Yes, first graders, second graders, I was with them!"  Cute.  Off we went in the truck, heading for home.  Since there is no nap at camp and KIC is accustomed to a two hour nap every day, she promptly fell asleep effectively eliminating any camp talk on the way home.

We reached home and the following conversation happened:
KIC:  "Mommy, on the bus today, a boy said a bad word."
Me (knowing this summer camp deal was too good to be true):  "What did he say, KIC?"
KIC:  "I don't want to tell you because you'll get mad at me."
Me:  "I promise I won't.  What word did he say?"
KIC:  "Underwear.  But he said he was sorry and that he would tell his mommy what he said and would never say it again."
Me:  "KIC, that is not a bad word."
KIC:  "Oh.  Well, then that's okay."

End of conversation.  (those of you who have seen my status on FB can guess where this is going)  We eat dinner, chill out for awhile and then it's time for bath.  KIC takes off her cute little sundress and it is revealed that she is not wearing any underwear. 

Me:  KIC, where is your underwear?
KIC:  I didn't put any on after swim.
Me (voice rising):  Why not???
KIC:  I DON'T KNOW! 
Me:  Okay, fine, just make sure you put some on after swim tomorrow.
KIC:  Okay, mommy.

We do the shower thing and she's getting dressed and something dawns on me:  the underwear conversation.

Me (near hysteria):  KIC, did the boy on the bus ask you were your underwear was??????
KIC:  Nooooooooooooooooooooooo.
Me (not reassured):  What did he say to you?? 
KIC:  To weaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr soooooooooooooommmmmmmmmme.

So there you have it.  KIC can never go back to camp and I now have to find another job.  If you need me, I'll be in the corner in the fetal position playing "Crying Game" over and over.

How many times have I beat you??

It's no secret amongst my family and friends that I am pretty strict with KIC.  We have fun, silly moments, but when I feel like she's done something not safe or is getting out of control, I do not hesitate to address the behaviors on the spot.  Some may not agree with my parenting style, but I learned very early on, ironically as a pet owner, that if you do not set expectations and reinforce those expectations, things can get out of control very quickly.  Consistency is my mantra.

Recently, KIC has been working on her drama skills.  If she knows she has done something unsafe or recognizes she has gotten out of control in some way, she'll recoil and back away from you like you're going to beat her.  Where I am strict, NannyK is permissive and KIC recoils from NannyK as well, for no good reason.

We were at a grocery store, late one night, when KIC nearly flipped a small shopping cart over on herself.  I cut her some slack given the events of the night (out late, sitting patiently through an appointment for mommy, etc), but as soon as the shopping cart slammed to the ground, she started fake shaking and backing away.  After this conversation, I'm surprised CPS wasn't called.

KIC, backing up, fake shaking:  I'm sorry, Mommy!!!!!!
Me:  KIC, how many times have I beat you?
KIC thinking while the cashier and other shoppers look on in horror and Uncle Chris looks away in embarrassment.
Me:  NONE!  So stop acting like I'm going to beat you.  You weren't being safe, you almost got hurt, next time don't do that.
KIC nods hesitantly.
Me:  Uncle Chris, we are going to wait for you outside.
Uncle Chris nods in acceptance.
KIC, as we are walking away from the checkout aisle:  Awwwwwwwkwaaaarrrrrrrrrrd!

Please, friends, when I come visit, have the decency to have an alcoholic beverage poured in advance.  I'm going to need it over the next 15 years.