Justin’s Neighborhood

I have always heard that checking The Farmer's Almanac and weather patterns can provide great insight into daily occurrences. For instance, how many of you pregnant ladies (or once pregnant ladies) heard that you would go into labor on the night of the full moon? I once had a professor during my undergrad years that swore by the change in barometric pressure coinciding with an increase in school fights. Once in my own classroom, there always seemed to be an influx of feisty freshmen on the cusp of a rainstorm. After breaking my leg my sophomore year in college, I soon transformed into my own walking and/or crutching weather forecast, for I could painfully tell from the pressure in my leg when we were in for rain or snow, sorta like Christopher Robin: "Tut, Tut; it looks like rain." As the years of healing increased, the pressure from a weather change decreased, and I am no longer as good at "feeling in my bones" a weather front.

Lately though, I think the weather has been affecting my family, for the boy has been boycotting bedtime. It has only been for about three or four nights, but to a parent, that feels much longer. Typically we just hold Daniel tight, say our prayers, and place him in his bed. Recently though, that has not been good enough. He's been crying and throwing out his blanket and stuffed animal from his crib. When we've gone in for comfort, he's cried big crocodile tears, stretching towards his bedroom door. We've caved a few times and let him out of his room, back into the living room, only to see him run up to the TV, pointing and begging to have it turned on for him (I guess all part of a delay tactic). We let him watch some of the Olympics the other night, getting him to a groggy state, then taking him to bed. Nope; not good enough. He cried and begged out. Needless to say, bedtime was an hour and a half ordeal, rather than a kiss and 30 second prayer....geeze!

Today, Daniel protested his nap time. I, for one, was really not in the mood. I had, and still have, a debilitating headache. Anyone who has a toddler, however, knows that a debilitating headache (perhaps migraine?) can not be one, for the kiddo will not allow it, and he or she will most likely not cooperate with the need for quiet. I tried for a nap at his typical sleep time and he cried. I decided that it would not be too bad for him to play in his room while I rearranged some clothing in his closet. After 30 minutes or so of that, I tried for attempt #2. He, of course, cried. I, trying to avoid the headache fuel, left him alone and went into my bedroom where I folded clothes. A whole laundry basket later, he had not stopped. So, I went in for cuddle time. I sang him his song, and he eventually caved, giving way to sleep. Quietly and efficiently I placed him into the crib....or so I thought. As soon as his bedroom door closed, he was crying again, reaching toward me with one hand and the rocking chair where we were previously cuddling with the other. Here we go again.....did I mention I have an awful headache...? Anyway, after about 30 seconds in the chair, he was back out, and this time, fortunately, for good.

I write all this to say, there must be something brewing. I got an e-mail from one of my friends last night that had to be cut short because, as she claimed, her son was "not wanting to go to bed on his own tonight so it is time to do battle." And, after reading some other VOX posts, like Angie's, I do believe that something has to be going on weather-wise and/or moon-wise. With this nasty headache and these quirky sleeping ordeals, someone should check The Farmer's Almanac. Where is the moon? Does anyone out there have pain in his shoulder or pressure in her knee? Check with the weatherman and find out when a new storm is coming, for I am anxious to know when my kiddo will be back to a sound and easy sleeper and my gross headache will be ancient history.

Oh, and for the record, once the boy was asleep, he was quite cute.....but I know I am bit bias :o)

 

I had heard her story but had never met her face-to-face.  I wasn't sure what to expect from a famous amputee.  Would I be too distracted by her prosthetic legs?  Would she notice me staring?  Would she deem me worthy to help her? 

It didn't matter.  Her general practitioner had assigned me to her case; I was to take x-rays to send to her surgeon for a consult.  It seemed she had developed an infection at the skin of the joining site of the leg with the prosthesis and the doctors wanted to see if there was a problem at the bone. 

She was more beautiful than her pictures gave her credit for, and she was the friendliest celebrity I've ever met.  Her devoted mom was with her the whole time, gowning up for the x-rays like a professional.  These two have an amazing bond and an even more amazing story.  This girl is my new hero, and I am her newest fan; all because she is courageous, refined, and has the softest fur.

See, Triumph is a Siberian Husky.  Years ago, somewhere in Turkey, someone found her on the side of the road with her legs chopped off.  Through many twists of fate, which you can read about at http://www.triumphthedog.net/story.cfm, Triumph finally made it home to her mom (Moe) and to Alameda East's Dr. Taylor (of Animal Planet's E-Vet fame), and to Mt Juliet, TN's very own Dr. Gables. 

Triumph and Moe are still struggling with this newest hurdle, but they will overcome.  They always have.

I should of course mention that you can make donations to Triumph's care; please follow this link for more info.

So, I just wanted to let you know about some cute things the boy has been doing recently. First, he has this really cute stutter step that he performs as we walk out of the house and down the porch steps. It is almost like he is gearing himself up for a no hands descent down the three steps. When he does it, I hear that song that plays as they introduce the starting line-up of the basketball team playing in my head, for he is psyching himself up for the big event. Once he descends, Daniel now climbs into the Explorer himself, and he is very proud of how he can maneuver himself up and in, always avoiding his car seat, jetting straight towards the window buttons (thank goodness for child lock).

Daniel has also taken a keen interest in scaring people. Sometimes you will be just sitting on the couch, minding your own business, and Daniel will come and yell "Boooooooo!" Even though it is not scary, Thomas and I pour on the drama and let him think he scared the bejesus out of us, throwing our hands up in the air and making frightened faces. Just today, I was holding a napkin in my hand when he did it during lunch, and I immediately threw it into the air in terror. Daniel LOVED it. He laughs so hard after a scare, he can hardly contain himself to try again. The giggle is so contagious as well, so everyone ends up laughing. To make it even cuter, Daniel has begun to scare complete strangers, even though they do not realize they are being haunted by him. A loud "Boooo!" will emit in the middle of the grocery store directed towards the lady and buggy next to us, but she will remain oblivious. I'll tell him, "She does not know you are scaring her," which never gets him down. Instead, he will just  try again, louder than before. If all else fails, he just turns to scaring me, to which I promptly begin to act a fool in public, all for the entertainment of my son, so I see it as worth it. :o)

Some things that are not so cute: teething 2 year molars before turning 2 years old! Daniel threw up in the car seat the other day (a nightmare for any parent) from pushing his fingers so far back into his mouth to assuage the pain that he gagged. Fortunately, I had a full change of clothes in the car, unlike the last time he did this when I only had a clean shirt, thus making me bring my kid to a party full of old-school high school friends in a diaper and a sleeveless t-shirt (yeah, we were those parents that night-- so much for my plans to let old buds meet my son for the first time in a cute little outfit). These new, emerging teeth are now the culprits for his slimy, runny nose. I managed today to force in some Tylenol, so perhaps that will help give him a little comfort.

A few weeks ago I ran anesthesia for an emergency surgery on a dog.  The surgery went well; the only problem was the dog wouldn't breathe.  Not a huge problem, really, it just meant that I had to do more work and was freaking out a little more than usual (ok, a lot more than usual).

The next day the dog couldn't seem to regulate its temperature, and I was afraid that I had done something wrong.  After quizzing me and having me run some blood work and take a couple of xrays, the doc was finally able to convince me that I had done nothing wrong.  He then proceeded to tell me I worried too much and jokingly prescribed me some valium to take nightly.  I told him I would, as long as it wasn't rectally. 

When relating this story to a fellow tech, she told me that I didn't worry too much; I just cared a lot.  Yeah, but is there such a thing as caring too much?  I wonder if someday all this caring will get to me and I'll just have to harden myself to it.

This isn't a new "problem", and it's not just vet-related.  Seriously, who gets their feelings hurt when someone jokes "we're not friends anymore"?!?

Sigh.  Well, that's just the way I am; and until I get burned enough times that's the way I'll stay.

Make My Day

Is it just me, or does anyone else see some resemblance?
So much for my attempt to get a smiling picture of my son in a hat I bought him from the Dollar Tree!

We bought our little guy a sprinkler last week. For only 5 bucks, thanks to Target, we've been able to provide Daniel with a nice little way to keep cool. He, however, really only likes to play with the elephant's trunk, spraying his own feet with water. Thomas and I each showed him how to run through the sprinkler, and we made extra sure to show him just how much fun it was to do so. In his own imitation, Daniel giggled, smiled, and began to run straight towards the water coming from the sprinkler, only to curve outwards at the last minute, thus avoiding every drop of water that was spraying from the elephant. He was completely content with himself, and he saw no need to actually run into the water. The only way he got wet (other than intentionally spraying his own feet) was when he lost his grip on the trunk, letting the spray go in an unintended direction towards his head. After getting sprayed, Daniel was quick to say "Cold!" which was a true statement; the water could definitely warm slightly. Even though he has not really been using the sprinkler exactly like we thought he would, he has been enjoying himself, keeping cool in the process.

Walkscore.com recently ranked America's most walkable neighborhoods and cities. Where does your hometown land in the rankings? And how much do you actually find yourself walking instead of driving?

Well, I went to the site and entered my current address. On a score of 0-100, with 100 being the best, most walkable city, our address yielded a big fat ZERO, or "car dependent," which is completely understandable for these parts. Curious of our family's past homes, I entered all our old addresses. The verdict (in order of living)= 55 (which was declared "somewhat walkable," which also happens to be pretty accurate for that home), 25, 38, 18, and 0......yeah, we've lived a lot of places........

 I have always thought it would be nice to live in a place where I could go for weeks without getting into my car, not really for environmental reasons, but because I just don't really like to drive. Being able to commute via mass transportation as well would be nice. Now that I have a kiddo though, that does not really sound too intriguing anymore. I am curious as to how people in NYC, or some other large city, make it through travel with a toddler in tow, especially when they do not even own a car, completely relying on subways or cabs. I mean, do you haul the car seat out into the street, wave down a cab, and then lock in the seat, situate the belts, etc. That would be exhausting! One summer, I pulled a long stint on my bike, visiting friends, going to the park, and making errand runs via those two wheels and my two legs. At that point, we lived at the 55 walkscore home, so it was not too bad, other than the poorly kept city sidewalks. Again, with Daniel, that would not be too feasible anymore. I could just see myself losing my balance and tumbling my poor baby over into the street. Yikes!

So, as for me and my zero "walk score," it looks like I will be relying on my car and nearly $4 a gallon gas for a long time---unless I am going to the neighbor's house to chat or borrow a cup of sugar :o).

Thomas and I met in college at The Wesley Foundation. "Wesley" as we affectionately call it, was our home away from home during those precious college years. We met some of the most amazing people while there, and we learned so much about faith and life through Wesleyan influences. And, through all our Wesley connections, we can quickly get in contact with some pretty helpful people: doctors, lawyers, optometrists, engineers, teachers, dentists, full time mommies, therapists, nurses, veterinarians and so forth. Pretty fortunate, eh? Needless to say, Wesley holds a very special place in our hearts, for without it, we would not have some of our closest friends, nor would we have each other.

Every summer, Wesley holds a summer picnic. Graduates and current students attend, meeting new folks and catching up with the old ones. This summer, we officially realized that we are the "old" Wesley Alumni (most of which are pictured above). This picnic was a bit different than previous due to the crazy toddler we had to chase. Last year he was just a little fella, and the year before that he was extremely portable and agreeable via the womb. Daniel had his fair share of cute moments, as well as frustrating ones, but it was nice to see some of the younger Wesley folks humor him with silly follow the leader type games. He even had a few playmates, thanks to Honey and Clark. While he and Luke explored the grounds, I managed to snap this cute little photo of some Wesley love.

Time went way too fast this year. I felt like I had to cut several conversations short, especially due to my mobile son. Plus, we had a commute this year, unlike last, so we had to head out a little earlier than I would have liked. Poor Daniel was pooped (hence his absence in the larger group photo.....he was already in the car, stuffed animal in hand). Even though we do touch base with many of our Wesley friends throughout the year, there are others we only get to see at the picnic. We hope to keep making our trips to THE Wesley Summer Picnic, for where else can you get your picture taken between two lovely gals named Summer? :o)

I saw this license plate on the back of a sewage truck and I figured that I should take a picture:

Can you read it? It says "GOT POOP?" Such a plate seems fitting for a sewage truck.