Thankful Day 2, or does this make me a bad person?

Ethan had another appointment on Wednesday at the Denver Children's Hospital. Ethan, Livi and I went down Tuesday night so we would be on time for the 8:00 am appointment. On the way down I was amazed at the amount of rain and was a little scared while I was driving.

Livi got to watch the ball sculpture while Ethan got X-rays.

We went to the appointment, Ethan got x-rays, a cardio/respiratory test, and an allergy panel test.  I was sooooooo impressed with how fast and efficient the hospital was.  It may not have taken all day, but Ethan's tests were horrible for him, he got a scope down his nose into his throat after running on a treadmill, and his back was scratched up and possible itchy allergens were put on it.  I may have had to hold him down...a lot.  All were fine (he is allergic to cats and mildly to dogs, but not causing the asthma). I was a little sad we didn't find something to fix, but glad we know what it isn't!  

23 different scratches

What I am most thankful for is that Ethan was able to go to his visit. We may not have learned a lot, but we know where to go from here. I am thankful we were able to go before the flooding got bad and we were able to come home with no problems.

Denver is awful right now. People are struggling and dying and I am thankful and ungrateful enough to be glad that Ethan's appointment wasn't one day later.

Livi LOVED the giant bunnies!

The Cliffs of Insanity, or Not For the Weak of Stomach...Really...This is Pretty Gross

Things have not been going well.  It has been a rough month and since it is surprisingly painful to type this because of some of the events, I will try to tell about the bad parts of my month mostly in pictures.  The next installment will be my "on the bright-side" post.

Things started out with me finally giving in and seeing an Orthopedic Surgeon about my knees.

The Oh-So Stylish shorts I got to wear at the Orthopod's office.  You know you want some!

The good news is I don't have arthritis, I don't need surgery, and I have plenty of cartilage in my knees!  The bad side is my ligaments that go over my knees are basically malformed and since I am "so out of shape" my knees are sliding all over the place causing extreme inflammation in my knees.  The good news is that with physical therapy and anti-inflammatory shots in my knees I should be able to get to the point where they don't hurt anymore.  The bad news is I will have to be constantly in shape, and working out or they will go back to being painful again.  I almost wish I could just have surgery (yep, that's how low I've gotten after a month of VERY painful physical therapy!)

The next day I went to a regular doctor to find out why my antidepressants don't seem so anti anymore.  We switched meds and now I'm in the wonderful transitional phase where I am having withdrawal symptoms similar to Heroin addicts (but never got to have the high to go with it.  I feel somehow gypped), and severe ups and downs until the new stuff kicks in.  Basically everyone in my house has literally mentioned in prayer that they hope "the new medicines will help Mommy/Nicole feel better."

Later that week in the middle of my "poor me" slump Ethan brought home some homework that he struggled and struggled with until he finally asked for help.  This is that problem:

What the heck?  Are you kidding me?  Are there 26 fish in EACH tank, or 26 total fish? Why does it matter what type of pellet I am using?  Is one cheaper or easier to administer?  What type of math are they even trying to get him to use?  Are we suppose to be able to find a pellet ratio that comes out evenly with the fish and/or tanks?  I was a little flummoxed and asked my brain trust (family) what they thought and every single person had a different take on it.

This wouldn't be a big deal but Ethan's teacher is not exactly...nurturing.  I wrote a note explaining we were a little confused but he tried his best.  We then got the next homework...not good.  Basically it was a triangle made of 9 littler triangles that each had different types of sides (squiggles/dashes etc).  The first problem on the page had a triangle that DIDN'T EVEN EXIST on the big triangle so I wrote another letter to the teacher saying that I thought maybe they should screen their homework better (remember I am having withdrawals at this point) or at least explain what they are looking for.  We then proceeded to exchange a series of emails that were less than friendly and me pointing out that "YES, actually I DO have a teaching degree and YES I think her homework is stupid."  I have basically turned into the parent that turned me off from teaching in the first place.  Fabulous.

I know my pain will never rival that of people who have serious problems or horrible accidents occur in their life, and the shooting in Connecticut truly was a reminder of that.  So much so, that I spent most of the weekend crying.  Crying about painful knees, crying about stupid medicines, crying about how Ethan's teacher retaliated against him because of me (put him the lowest math group even though he is well above that), and crying about scared kids and families missing their little ones on Christmas morning.  Crap, crying again.  These meds had better kick in soon!

On the 17th I was running around like a chicken with it's head cut off going to therapy and trying to get us packed for our upcoming trip to California, get Livi ready for her school program that night AND finish the teacher gifts I was making.  So of course this happened:

(Note: avoid further pictures if squeamish)

I was making hot chocolate on a stick for the teachers, and thought it would be fun to make homemade marshmallows to go on top. (I know, I know, Who makes homemade marshmallows? I've heard that about 50 times in the last 2 weeks).  I was pouring the 240 degree corn-syrup/sugar mixture into the main bowl when said bowl slipped and I poured it on my hand instead.

On the bright-side most of the hand only got small 1st degree burns.  Also on the bright-side I didn't even feel any of them, because my ring finger was not so lucky. Running a hand covered in molten stickiness does nothing but solidify the stickiness and fuse it to your skin. When I ripped off the goo of doom I ripped off some of the skin too. 

The day after it happened.

Today.  I call it "Kentucky Fried Finger."

I went into the doctor today to see if they needed to debride (?) the wound (which means clean out all the gunk and dead skin).  The doctor said she wants me to go to ANOTHER physical therapist who specializes in wounds and have their surgeon do the cleaning because of the scar tissue forming.  Basically it is healing well, but forming a lot of scar tissue underneath and if I don't go to physical therapy I wont be able to move the whole top of the finger.  This wouldn't be a big deal except for the whole piano/knitting/embroidery/typing/applying makeup/ "not looking like I'm flipping people off when I close my hand" thing.

So basically January is going to be filled with a double delight of painful physical therapy.  Awesome sauce.  I do have a lot of bright-sides, though, and hope to highlight a lot of them when my finger stops aching from writing this novel-of-a-post that was suppose to be short and I feel up to typing some more.

Why I Should Always Wear A Wooden Plank Around My Neck...Or At Least A Wood Bead Bracelet

I love the idea of teacher appreciation week, and I think making desserts is a great way to celebrate, but because nothing at the kids school can be easy, this always turns into an ordeal. They don't want cookies on a plate. They don't want a box of doughnuts. They want full on gourmet desserts presented in a classy way, (no paper plates) but you don't get anything back, so it must be displayed on something you are willing to never see again.

The teachers draw numbers and they go in order and pick out what dessert they want. No one wants to be the dreaded last dessert on the table. The "pity" dessert, if you will. Last year I did cake pops in a flower pot, but this year I wanted to try cupcakes. Cupcakes beyond vanilla and chocolate. Cupcakes that make other cupcakes cry in envy. Cupcakes that wouldn't be picked last for the baseball team (or whatever cupcakes play).

I made Hot Chocolate, Strawberry Lemonade, Red Velvet, Cookie, and S'more flavored.  Good-bye waist.

I decided to try 5 different recipes (because I have a stress related death wish) so I could find just the right recipes to present. Of course finding the ingredients required for gourmet cupcakes in Scottsbluff is as easy as finding Tonks when she escapes out the front door, so I spent most of the morning going from grocery store to grocery store. By the time Livi and I got home from morning errands it was lunch time. We have lots going on at our house this week, and because I don't want the other joy school moms/insurance interviewer/cub leaders to see my house in all it's natural glory (I swear evil elfin brownies drop off all the junk they clean from other people's house right into my living room), I spent a couple hours cleaning up around the house, got the kitchen spic and span, and then went on a baking spree.

 It was a well oiled machine in my kitchen. I would bake a batch of cupcakes, and while the next batch was baking I would make the icing for the last batch that were cooling. Things were running so smoothly and I was so happy with how easy it was to make 100 cupcakes that I should have stopped to knock on wood. It turned out I hadn't bought enough red food coloring or powdered sugar so I had to make frantic phone calls to Eric begging him to pick some up on the way home. By the time he got there I had a pile of egg shells and butter wrappers that would make Paula Dean gag in horror, soup on the stove for dinner, and french bread in the other oven. Eric surveyed the mess and calmly walked by with no comment.

 Livi came running around the corner to hug Eric and promptly slipped on the floor. This is when life went from organized chaos to full on pandemonium. Eric offered Livi a hand up and she squirmed and tried to pull away. All of a sudden we had a 3 year old screaming in agony. She was clutching her arm to her side and making noises I have never heard from her before. I was running around frantic saying we needed to go to the ER and Eric was grimacing (I think he was thinking about our deductible) and trying to tell Livi she was okay. Livi didn't believe him so I forced Eric into the car and off to the ER we went.

When I went to the ER with meningitis it took 8 hours from when I went in to when they released me.  It took 2 hours from when they ordered X-rays to when I actually went to have them taken. We have found the trick to a short ER visit: Screaming Toddler.

Livi showing off her stickers for doing so well with the X-rays

With in 5 minutes of us getting there the Orthopod Doctor had popped Livi's elbow back into the socket. A few minutes later she was getting X-rays. We were there for less than an hour overall. Once Livi's elbow was back in place she immediately stopped crying. It was like a little switch had been flipped.

She is totally fine today, no pain, no swelling, just 100% rambunctious little girl. We even had joy school this morning and by the way she was attacking our tree with a lightsaber you would never guess that she couldn't move her arm last night!