Despite All the Odds

Remember this post--When Bad Things Happen?

Well, I have been living in dread, dread for a dear friend for 12 weeks now. I have agonized, worried and fretted over the life of this tiny baby and the well-being of his parents. Today this sweet, tiny life made his entrance into the world. All the odds have been against the positive outcome of this life, but this friend of mine has held true to her belief that this baby is going to be okay. This does not mean that she was unaware of the risks, didn't harbor fears of her own, only that her Mommy-sense told her that the heart beating inside of that tiny body was going to make it.

Turns out, she was right. Little Sam is here, weighing in at a mighty 3 pounds, 15 ounces. Small, you say? Nope. That's a monster size for a 30-week old baby that should still be baking away in his mommy's tummy in a perfect world. There were 85% odds that this little guy would have craptastic lungs. Lungs that may not function in the outside world. Turns out that his lungs ARE working. Not perfectly, but that's not expected from a 30-weeker. BUT the doctors think that the lung development is on track for age. Despite the likelihood that they weren't in enough fluid.

This is my miracle for the week. I'm hanging my hat on that, because there have been too many craptastic pieces of news this week. I needed a ray of sunshine. This baby is just that. A long road ahead, but it's a road that has life in it--not a long road of recovery because a cherished child didn't make it.

Drip. . .Drip. . . Oops.

I almost dribbled on myself today. Several times. Turns out that Baby Brook-Brook doing the Running Man on my bladder seriously makes me worry about the dryness of my underpants. So far, so good.

And the Bleh Continues. . .

Yep. Today's workday was just as unproductive and mostly miserable, as I had anticipated. I supervise roughly 20 employees and am involved in supervising/managing (previously with the manager removed yesterday) another 45 employees. Trying to convey positive reassuring thoughts to these employees, while still remaining true to my struggles and misgivings regarding this decision is puzzling to me. How to I strike this balance? I fear that I'm not living up to either end of the spectrum.

I just know this pall is hanging over me. I feel like someone in my work-life died. It's like a funeral when the well-meaning old biddy says "this is for the best" or "everything happens for a reason." And just like at a funeral, I want to tell that person to shove it.

On Trust and Disappointment

Today was terrible. Primarily because of the last hour of my work day. I received awful news that I had been anticipating since yesterday--anticipating by not sleeping well, finding my stomach in knots and having difficulty focusing on little else. This news does not affect my job directly (I am still employed), but it does affect a friend and mentor that I love--someone with whom I have worked closely for several years now. While this doesn't affect where I go to work daily, it does affect my every move in that job, every possible problem to be solved, every project to tackle.

Trust, of the deepest kind, is a quality that is rare, I know this on an intellectual level and on a personal level. Trust is built by consistency over time. For quite some time, I kept myself from allowing trust to enter into my professional relationships. I had my work acquaintances and my real friends. Over the past several years, a select few work acquaintances have sneaked in(I really feel like this should be 'snuck in')--crossing over into real-friend territory. And blast if that is leaving my tummy in knots knowing that one of them is hurting. And knowing that my job, that I love, will absolutely change irrevocably beginning tomorrow.

Musings from the Couch OR Hypochondria in Action

Elliott has had strep throat this week. Not the total devastation that it may appear on first glance because we seemed to have caught it early. However, my sweet husband can border on hypochondria. I can say this because he doesn't read my corner of the interwebs. Each time someone near him is ill, Chris has to seriously consider if he has drafted the same infection. This includes pregnancy. Knowing this history, please consider this conversation:

(Setting: Mullaney living room couch, Elliott is in bed)
Chris: Have you had strep throat before?
Me: Yes
Chris: Does it start with your throat feeling really itchy?
Me: No
Chris: Hmm. I was thinking I was getting what Elliott has.
Me: Internal sigh and eye roll.

I love this man. I do.

Third Trimester! Celebrate with Cankles?

The two go together like peanut butter and jelly, salt and pepper, shampoo and conditioner, Frosties and french fries. My point is that my OB confirmed to me yesterday that yes, I am officially in the home stretch, a return to discomfort that the last 13 weeks of pregnancy brings. (Not so) coincidentally, our a/c at the office was on the blink today and I felt that tell-tale tightness in my ankles. It seems that my ankles have a direct line of connection to my OB's mouth. Maybe the connection is to my own mouth because I just mentioned to my office-mate this morning that I could still wear my wedding ring set comfortably and had experienced no swelling. Clearly, I forgot to knock on wood or throw salt over my shoulder or wear my lucky panties or something along those lines.

(I'm totally exaggerating just a teensy-tiny bit. There was a bit swelling, but nothing near cankle-stage. This post is for dramatic purposes only.)

Our Monkey had a Party!

We celebrated Elliott's birthday with a party this past weekend. Just for the record--I resisted the urge to go all soccer-mom on party planning. Really. I did. The event was very simple. Simple and balloon-filled. He was elated--not because he knew it was a party for him, but because, for the first time in four days, he was seeing people other than Mommy and Daddy. Seriously. We had been trapped inside during the Ice Disaster of 2011 and certainly we were all a little worse for the wear.

Back to the party: We had a Two-Two Train celebration. Elliott's favorite items of the day, in particular order:

1. Tethered dozen boon (balloons), which Elliott drug around the party en masse, at times getting completely tangled in the ribbons.

2. Elmo boon (balloon)
3. Choo-choo boon (balloon)--sense a theme here?
4. Hide-and-seek with Poppy




5. Cake-cake (mainly just the icing bits)


6. Opening presents. Exciting, but it's really all about tearing the paper--not always the toy/book inside. That comes later.




And a bonus shot of Ell-man. Careful not to drown in those eyes.

Jury Doody

I will be fulfilling my civic duty tomorrow. I'm about 2/3 of the way through my second reading of Beach Music and I'm frankly excited about an uninterrupted reading opportunity. I also am idealistic enough to really believe that I'm fulfilling a duty by willingly being at the courthouse all day, donating my $6 per hour and arriving at the painfully early 8:30am. I must admit that I am intrigued by being on a jury. Easy for me to say with almost relative certainty of not being selected (because of presumed bias for the police due to my husband's job), but it's true. It's almost like playing hooky from work because I got to send out an email today instructing all of my direct reports to direct all of their questions to other supervisors. And for one day, that is a nice little treat.

How do you know. . .

when you've spent too much time together, locked in your house because of a stupendous ice storm?

The answer:
The overwhelming irritation and annoyance from the loud chewing of your spouse while eating Chex Mix makes you want to scream at the top of your lungs. That's how.

Time Passes So Quickly. . .

My sweet boy is officially two years old. All at once I can't believe two years have passed so quickly and then I can't remember life without Ell-man. It's amazing the changes our life has experienced in 2 years.
From this:


To this one year ago today:



And then now:


And my ticket to a million bucks on America's Funniest Home Videos:

Mmm. Cake-cake.

I've mentioned Elliott has a sweet tooth in previous posts. Well, here he is helping mommy with a cake-cake for Daddy's birthday. . . and by helping, I mean eating raw cake batter. Does giving him that make me a bad mom?




It simply can't. I mean how can it be bad to see your child love something this much? So much he will eat it off the floor?