Mac the celebrity

This morning we were taking Mac the dog out for his morning potty break when he slipped out of his collar and bolted down the street.

Despite our driving around for nearly an hour calling his name, we both went to work Mac-less. I frantically posted on websites, including Craigslist, that our little furbaby was missing. When telling my coworker of the morning, I burst into tears - worried we'd never see the devil dog again.

Within 30 minutes of posting, Shea messaged me that Fox 4 News had our dog and to check out their Facebook page. Confused, I looked and there he was in all his hyper glory. 

Photo via Fox 4 News.

It seems a news station employee found him in the middle of an intersection and called him into her car. While at the TV studio he was given toys, bacon and helped himself to a running tour of the studio. We were quickly reunited and Mac returned to his kennel after a stern lecture.

His adventure wasn't unnoticed, however, and he has become a local celebrity. In fact, he (and his mom) will be featured on the Fox 4 morning news show Wednesday.

In the end, the story got more than 130 shares and almost 50 comments. People like happy stories.

I'm grateful for Craigslist, Facebook and our new Kansas City friend Laura who took the time to save Mac from a sad fate and reunite him with his family who loves him. Most days.

taken over

I am on day 8 of the flu.

Not just "Oh I had some kind of flu last week."

I have THE FLU.

I had a 103 temperature and was told to go to the ER if it reached 104. I went through two full boxes of Kleenexes. That's 140 tissues, people.

I was on Tamiflu, which is an antiviral drug that left me confused, hallucinating and crazy in the head. But took away my fever. And cost me $90.

I missed five days of work. Now on third day back to work. All three days have been a bad choice.

Now I have a sore throat, headache and chills. Again. And I am tired. Like when I had mono freshman year of college tired.

Misery.

remind me to breathe

End of grad school + Return to work + Baby + Husband + Christmas + Baptism + Family in town =

work to-do list

the unbirthday

My 29th birthday started out with brunch with a great friend and this cute little boy.

Take a look at that sweet, innocent face because it's the last time you'll see it today.

The rest of the day included what seems to be the three month growth spurt. Or a possession by demons. There was screaming, blow out diapers, nursing every hour and lots of sleeping. Except not sleeping in the crib or swing or in a nest of blankets on the couch. Sleeping in my arms and ONLY there.

OK, that's a sweet face, too.

Try to put him down. I dare you. This combined with the same behavior last night along with no coffee led to the most massive migraine/tension headache/nausea combo I've had in a long time. In the meantime, the dog peed on the floor, the cat puked on the couch and I accidentally sat in it. Special.

Luckily the hubs got home early.

We were going to get cheap food for dinner but the pain jolting in my head every time I moved made my stomach turn at every suggestion. Plus Henry was screaming. One migraine pain pill, two Tylenol and a scalding hot shower later, I was recovering.

We finally devoured food, in bed, at 8 p.m.

Followed by more screaming, clawing at my face and a massive blowout diaper. That may have been the grand finale (please, I beg you) because the poor kid is sound asleep now. Growing is so hard!

Tomorrow we're having a birthday redo. There is wine, a large plate of sushi and babysitting grandparents in my future.

the 4 a.m. shower

This is our normal bedtime routine:

We try to watch TV/read for class/actually talk while holding Henry on the couch.  He decides he would prefer to be held while we are standing. We take turns standing and rocking while singing either "Jesus Loves Me" or "I've Been Working on the Railroad." Over and over.

Henry starts to fall asleep sucking on his pacifier. Henry spits out pacifier and resumes fussy crying. Repeat 50 billion times. Daddy changes diaper and then swaddles Henry. Resume standing and singing routine. Finally Henry falls asleep around 9:30 on my chest. The slow walk to the bedroom begins followed by an even slower lowering into the crib. On a good night, he snorts, flutters his eyelids and falls into a deeper sleep. You can guess what happens on the bad nights.

Regardless, he is up at 11 at which point I pull him into bed and nurse him. He falls right back to sleep in my arms and I use a nifty roll maneuver to place him in between our pillows where he sleeps til 3 a.m. and then til 7 a.m.

At our two month appointment, I explained this routine followed by "I know our bed isn't the safest place for him, ok?" This was met with the uh yeah nod.

Instead of this chaotic routine, Dr. K recommended this sleep training process:

Start at 8 p.m. Change his diaper and put on his jammies. Sing him a nice little song and read a book. Nurse him and when he's 95 percent asleep, put him in his crib. He falls asleep in his crib therefore won't get mad when he wakes up in his crib. Happily ever after in sleep land. Obviously Dr. K got his kids from the perfect store.

The first night, as soon as he started fussing in his crib, Shea swooped him up saying "oh you want to sleep with us? OK!"

Last night we attempted to follow directions. After battling through song and dance (literally), we got him calm enough to look at a book. Swaddled and sleepy, we got him in his crib by 11 and there he stayed. Feeling pretty empowered, we went to sleep and didn't wake up until 4 a.m. I nurse and then burp him. I got my burp followed by a good 48 hours worth of milk spit up in my hair, causing me to start screaming for a towel. Mostly because I had just changed our sheets. And that does not happen often. Or ever.


Shea, handing me a towel: "So now what? Are supposed to put him back in his crib? Read him another book? Sing a song?"

Me, stripping off my clothes: "The only thing I am doing is taking as shower because there is baby vomit dripping off my hair and down my back."

Needless to say, Henry spent the rest of the night not in his crib, but in our bed.

Parenting fail.

sour milk

Shea always worries about sour milk. He sniffs it before he drinks a glass and under no circumstances will he drink milk past the date. When we visit either sets of parents, he goes straight to the fridge to check the time stamp on the gallon - for no reason because they are totally NOT notorious for having week-old milk.

This month we've switched to Shatto Milk because we like local food, it tastes like milk candy and those glass bottles are completely adorable. So after dinner, Shea takes a gulp of said milk and spits it all out.

Shea: I think the milk is bad.
Me: The milk is not bad. We just got it four days ago.
Shea: Try yours!
Me: Oh wow. That milk is baaad.

So instead we made root beer floats (an obvious alternative to skim milk). As Shea is scooping the ice cream, he comments on how drippy it is.

And then it hit us.

Frantically, I stuck my head in the fridge and exclaimed "the fridge isn't running! help!" We tried switching the plug to a power strip. We figured out it wasn't a breaker. I called my mom. And then called the landlord who said he'd be over tomorrow, which means we still have a fridge and freezer full of food dangerously close to rotting, which I am now adding up in my head how much money is melting away, literally.

Luckily I have a master key to my work and with summer break starting, there is an empty, full-size fridge just waiting to be filled. So we threw everything in Target bags and raced the 30 blocks to my work.

The only casualties were chopped peppers, milk and my beloved chocolate soy milk. I weep.

It's like the epically bad day wasn't done with us. The oven and dishwasher are still working. It's only a matter of time now.

an epically bad day

3 a.m. Wake up to sound of dog peeing on floor. Realize dog also peed on the only three blankets clean in a cold house.

3:15 a.m. Finish cleaning up dog pee and stripping bed.

3:40 a.m. Finally go back to sleep, shivering, only to be awakened by dog peeing again. (note: dog is mad that he has moved to a new house and has been relegated to floor sleeping in anticipation baby's arrival.)

3:45 a.m. Finish cleaning up dog pee, number 2. Scream at dog until he runs into basement. Consider if the pound is open at 4 a.m.

4 a.m. Husband tries to cuddle because it's cold and there are no blankets. However husband cannot sleep because he's mad about dog and keeps moving around. Wife, 25 weeks pregnant, flies out of bed and sleeps on couch in absolute desperation for sleep.

8:15 a.m. Arrive at work 15 minutes late.

8:35 a.m. AT&T calls and will be at house in 10 minutes to turn on DSL internet which is needed to finish grad school paper. Husband already left for work so wife races home.

8:50 a.m. AT&T man finds that phone lines wrapped around tree limb and cut in half. New phone lines needed.

8:55 a.m. Toilet, which requires a jiggle to stop running, overflows. All over bathroom and hallway.

9 a.m. Dog, sensing owner on the brink of emotional breakdown, pees while running the entire length of house.

9:05 a.m. Wife calls husband, bawling, reporting events of last 10 minutes. Husband has meeting and cannot do anything about this.

9:15 a.m. Wife attempts to make the best of situation and unpack boxes in sunroom. Opens blinds for light and entire set of blinds crashes to floor. Dog now screaming in basement.

9:20 a.m. Wife calls husband, this time hysterical about how she's hungry, exhausted, pregnant, and CANNOT HANDLE THIS anymore.

9:45 a.m. Husband arrives home to save wife. Wife drives back to work and calls mom in tears. Mom promises to come this weekend and fix everything because that's what moms do.

10:30 a.m. Wife back at work. Receives email from previous landlord saying apartment is not clean enough even though three girls cleaned for three hours. It's a $135 fine or a return to apartment to clean more.

10:45 a.m. Wife cries again.

11 a.m. - 5 p.m. Wife has less dramatic work day while trying to study intermittently for final worth half her grade.

5:30 p.m. Wife realizes that final starts in 15 minutes, and she neglected to bring dinner. Chokes down almonds and raisins hoping that sustains her pregnant, emotional, tired, angry self. For a final. Worth half her grade. That she needs an A on.

snow panic

I moved away from Minnesota for reasons like this. The 10-14 inches of snow forecast. The 40 mph winds. The -20 degree temperatures. The dramatic statements like "...making travel extremely dangerous if not impossible."

Before you Minnesotans get all snotty about how you are used to this and it's no big deal, remember that this region had an ice storm a few years ago that knocked out my parent's power for almost two weeks. And it was not warm outside.

The superstar of government agencies, FEMA, inexplicably has also gotten involved and issued warnings. All I know is if I am trapped in my house once this blizzard gets going, I'm not relying on anyone in that department to save me. I've got enough cans of diced tomatoes to at least last us til the end of the week.

24 hours to happiness

In less than 24 hours, we will be rid of our irresponsible tenants and moving on to a more sane and orderly landlord-hood. Oh the stories I could tell.

But the important thing is they are being eliminated from our lives, and I wish I could properly express the joy this brings to my heart.

Or perhaps a song would better express my happiness.

Either way, JOY!

postal hell

After considering leaving my newly repaired wedding ring at the post office to avoid the horrors of actually going to the post office, I relented. However, my strategy was in place.

{not my actual post office, but similar torture scene}

Tip #1; Avoid lunch time, and closing time
Smartly I thought, I went at 2 p.m., avoiding the business lunch crowd - "Hi, I'd like 45 rolls of stamps, and then I'd like to mail this with delivery confirmation, tracking, signature required, expedited and YES, there is something liquid in this. By tomorrow."

Tip #2; Avoid the elderly
The strategy continued as I pulled into the parking lot and saw an elderly couple with two huge boxes. I booked it to avoid having to stand behind them in line. However, unrelated elderly man stopped me by grabbing the side of my coat and yelling "you must have been in the service." Me: "What?" Elder man: "Yeah! From the way you walk, you must have been an Army girl." Me: "Oh. No. I am just in a hurry." Elder man: "Well there's a huge line honey, you won't be going anywhere." FAIL.

Tip #3; If you are going to stand in line, enjoy the crazy company
I walk in to find 14 people in line. How many employees working? One, of course. Within five seconds, the following scene occurs:

Man with red scarf: "Where's the complaint form? I want to speak to a manager!"
Woman next to me: "Psst. That guy wants to fill out a complaint form. That won't make the line move any faster."

Man with wife tugging at his jacket and sshing him: "Is anyone else working here?"
Poor employee: "Yes..well, yes there are people here."
Man with wife now hanging head in shame: "I don't see them! Where are they?!"

Tip #4; Avoid people who have not mailed a letter since 1940

Poor employee announced to the current customer that this location was out of Forever stamps.

Crazy woman in line: "YOU ARE OUT OF STAMPS? THE POST OFFICE IS  OUT OF STAMPS?!

When crazy woman gets to front of line she then is very confused about the 44 cent stamp. Does it take one stamp to mail a letter? When are the Forever stamps coming back? Those are clearly less confusing then those regular stamps with numbers on them.

Bottom line, I got my shiny ring with all the diamonds in the right places and all the prongs checked. I have to go back tomorrow to mail my passport application. I feel a migraine coming on already.

saying nothing

I went to the doctor yesterday for my week-long saga of nausea, dizziness and generally feeling awful. As is the trend, my doctor assumed I was pregnant. Even though I explained the timing is not logical.

We did determine my blood pressure is too low when I am standing. More on par with numbers for small children or professional athletes. No cure, just "hang onto something when you stand up."

I am then escorted back to the lab where I ask to lay down for my barrage of blood work since needles and staying conscious seem to be a problem lately.Then I had to ask for water so that I could eventually pee in a cup (high maintenance patient here).

When I am done, I walk to another room and put my pee cup in a sink. I have to sit in a chair while the lab tech does the pregnancy and UTI test in front of me. She's joking about the machines doing two tests at once and casually rustling her papers around. I'm reading a letter from God to his children typed in comic sans pasted to the wall. I am positive that my God would never send letters in such a disturbing font.

When it's done, she says nothing.

I have to walk with her to a copy room where she tapes the test results to another sheet and makes copies. She says nothing. We walk back over to the doctors office together, and she hands my results to the nurse saying, "here are your answers." The nurse walks with me to the exam room and says, "I'll show him these results, and he'll be back in to talk to you about them." She says nothing about the actual results.

Now I have to wait 10 minutes before the doctor returns to tell me I am not pregnant, which I already knew but was starting to feel borderline-crazy about.

So now I am waiting for blood work results. I'm hoping for a nice infection that requires just a few pills to make me feel brand new but assures Shea that dressing me in my pajamas when I fall asleep at 8:30 with a computer on my lap wasn't just a ploy.

irrelevant nausea

My tummy hurts, I'm nauseated and dizzy. Dizzyness is just part of my personality lately.

This has caused my work to be a buzz of how I am either really scared of needles or pregnant - neither topic actually discussed in my presence and both false.

So the fact that today I'm focused on: 1) Remaining upright and not sleeping underneath my desk and, 2) Not vomiting didn't help.

On Mondays, I have to sit at the front desk to give the receptionist time for lunch. This usually requires rejecting cries for free legal advice, calling of campus police when the crazies show up and looking generally knowledgeable, friendly and helpful.

Today I hunched over the keyboard transferring calls while sipping Sprite and nibbling on table crackers.

Co-worker: "Sarah, are you feeling OK?"
Me: "Oh yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."
Co-worker: "Oh I see you are eating crackers and drinking Sprite. How long have you been married?"
Me: "Irrelevant and unrelated."

Excuse me, I have to go vomit up my Sprite.

another reason for pretty underwear

The first sign of trouble was the doctor showing the students how to give a shot. And something about anaphylactic shock.

The students giving shots at our employee health fair did good though, and I got my vaccine with little pain. Picked up my round bandaid and was on my way toward the other screening stations.

The cholesterol screening was only a little finger prick test. The students there were talking to me about my job and making me drink water because my skin was too "tough" and I needed to make my blood flow more. Whatever, I drank away. Keep in mind I still have not been pricked.

Then I start feeling a little dizzy but try to maintain conversation about my awesome Halloween costume. I have to sit back in the chair a little,  and they start making comments on my very pale face. They run to get a doctor and by the time she comes I'm seeing less stars and more black. Doctor woman says "I know you're in a skirt, and this is not going to be fun but we have to get you on the floor."

I was hoisted down and there I lied for the next 20 minutes with the doctor's coat tied around my legs. The doctor made jokes about "this is why your grandma tells you never to forget to wear your underwear." Me: "What?! I'm totally wearing underwear."

They made me then sit on the concrete floor for another 10 minutes and explained that woman, especially of the small variety, are prone to passing out after flu shots and that's why you're supposed to wait 10 minutes before walking around - jabbing her words in the directions of the shot-giving students. They still didn't let me leave until they thought I had proper color in my face.

Cause of the fainting? 1) I hadn't eaten since last night because I was fasting for the cholesterol test. 2) I am prone to low blood pressure swings thanks to my mother who once had to lie under the cake table at a wedding reception. 3) Children are prone to fainting after flu shots - my body slightly resembles a child's.

She said 75 percent of people who pass out after flu shots leave with concussions so I am lucky. Right because lying in front of all your coworkers on a concrete floor with a jacket tied around your knees with a doctor joking about not wearing underwear is SO much better.

all for a tube of toothpaste

Yesterday after work I went to Walgreens to restock our toothpaste supply. Our neighborhood Walgreens makes itself famous by getting robbed at gunpoint pretty much every month. How this happens with a regular cop on duty and security cameras with attached strobe lights (so you know you're being watched) is beyond me.

I get my toothpaste and sigh as I get in line behind six people. The man that steps in behind me apparently had just completed his beer shower. To top it off, he has no sense of personal space and is reading my texts, which was going to be "OMG. The guy behind me SMELLS" but instead turned into "omg, story!"

At this point I am third in line. The guy paying is scruffly looking, possibly high, and has filled his mini-cart with grocery type items. As the cashier is scanning his purchases, he's carefully examining each key on his key ring - in slow motion. Now it's time to pay. The man continues to stare at his keys - one. by. one.

Cashier: "Honey, it's time to pay."

Scruffles: "I know. Can you do it for me?" (hands her key ring)

Cashier: "You don't have a card on here. I need your debit card."

Scruffles: "I know. Can you do it for me?" (hands her key ring again)

Cashier: "You have to pay. I need a debit card."

Scruffles. "Oh. Where is my wallet?"

Scruffles then proceeds to dig through the bags the cashier has just filled with his groceries, freaking out. 

Cashier: "Maybe it's in your shoulder bag?"

Light bulb! Scruffles hands the wallet to the cashier. She removes his debit card and starts scanning it at her computer. At the same time, Scruffles has found his Walgreens Rewards card and is scanning it repeatedly at the customer card reader - simultaneous actions the computer system is not meant to handle. 

Meanwhile, beer shower man screams out, "Look buddy. That card doesn't f***ing pay for things." Chaos. 

Finally, the very patient cashier takes over and grabs both the debit card and rewards card. Poor Scruffles gets his groceries and goes on his way. I wasn't sure whether he needed a hug or a ticket to rehab.

Twenty minutes later, I paid for my toothpaste.

all my snot

I am super anxious to run again but this plague of a cold I'm fighting has prevented me from doing anything but moan and leave wads for Kleenexes around the house - something the hubby appreciates. "Ugh, I just realized I slept with two of your Kleenexes on my pillow." 

Even though I make him sleep with my snot (yay, marriage!), he never gets sick. Ever. I'm the one taking a regiment of vitamins, running often and avoiding junk food. However, it appears a diet of peanuts and candy corn are what really keeps the doctor away. Screw the apples.

Regular, moderate running does boost your immune system but running more than 90-minutes at a time leaves the immune system flailing about. Not fair!

sarah the grouch

I'm grumpy.

I hate being a landlord.

I am frustrated that there are selfish and rude people in this world. Specifically my world which seems to have a disproportionate amount of them.

I hate my knee and its cheap effort.

I'm mad that my wedding ring makes my finger itch. Shea promises it's not from a vending machine.

I'm annoyed that I lost in Fantasy Football by three points. Even more annoyed that I actually care.

On the up side, I finally found canned pumpkin!

$1.29/can well worth it.

I'll be back to normal blogging when I get over myself.

coveting prayers

We are landlords. Not by choice but by circumstance. Circumstances of the housing market sucks, we moved away and owe much more on a property than it's currently worth. Thank you banking industry.

Someday I will blog about the interesting situation we are in right now, when it's all in the past. And you will laugh, I guarantee it. But until this one moves into the laughing category, we would love your prayers.

Financially we are prepared for months without renters, but every month we have to cover rent is a month we're set back slightly in our other lofty debt reduction goals. Plus now we're in Kansas City, not Minnesota, so we have to rely on the help of others to handle the details if we do have to find new tenants. So far we've been very lucky, thanks to a super father-in-law. But it's a burden and the whole situation has probably raised our collective blood pressure to unhealthy levels.

When we moved to Kansas City a little less than a year ago, everything fell into place. Every worry we had financially, emotionally and otherwise was alleviated. We both found jobs. We found tenants. We found a cheap apartment. It taught us in a very real way that God provides. And I know He will again.

While you're at it though, do you think you could pray for my bum knee and the impending half marathon, and our ability to just rest? I'd throw in the Twins and K-State in there because they need some divine intervention but I won't press my luck.

icing it up

My knee hurts.

I've scaled back on the running the last week and a half. Today I did a five-mile run, and I made it through but my knee is achy and tight. Tight like I wish someone would just pop it back into place.

Based on my research, I've self-diagnosed an IT band strain. This is where it hurts:

 Iliotibal band syndrome (ITBS) occurs when the IT band, which runs from the buttocks down and across the knee becomes tight and inflamed. Overpronation and bow-leggedness can also contribute. If caught early, you can recover in one to four weeks. Take anti-inflammatories one to two hours prerun, and stretch and ice postrun, says Irene Davis, Ph.D., P.T., of the University of Delaware. Reduce mileage, hills, and intensity. When you run on a track, rotate laps (1 mile clockwise, 1 mile counterclockwise). Tape your arches or wear orthotics. (Runners World)

 {Post five mile run. Ouch}

Other articles helped me trace the injury back to my treadmill sprints last week though it's been a long time coming with some aching in my hamstring and glutes. So I'm icing, and then this weekend I'll attempt my last long run. I'm putting my full marathon decision on hold to see how the creaky knee holds up.

Come on, knee. I just need 15 more days from you. Then I promise you can spend your weekend mornings lounging on the couch, drinking coffee and gorging on French toast.

angry clouds and some pumpkin gelato

As we were going out the door to the game Saturday, we considered whether or not to bring the ponchos. "It's only a 30 percent chance of rain. There's a better chance of it not raining," my mom said. We brought them anyway, which turned out to be wise because eight plays into the game, this happened.

It's for real. Birds were flying in circles. The lightning got an "ahh" from the crowd and eventually caused a 1.5 hour delay of game. Fans were asked to leave the stadium and seek shelter. Considering our shelter was one mile away at my parent's house, we stood around watching the mass exodus. Finally the announcement came that we could take cover in the adjacent basketball stadium.

We arrived just as the downpour began to find the court full of kids shooting baskets and posing for pictures. We waited. And waited. And waited. Until finally we were allowed to go back to our seats and sit in the cold rain. Lucky us. Thus proceeded the longest, most boring game of my life full of play challenges, TV timeouts and an over zealous girl behind me who cheered, "go offense" or "go defense." I guess at least she knew which was which.

The last 27 seconds made up for the five hours of boredom. Sorta. I guess. But my family does NOT leave football games early. We rewarded ourselves with Chinese food, brownies and a movie. (Sidenote: Every time Shea says "mmm brownies sound good right now," my mom makes them for him! I never remember this kind of service when I was a child. This makes me mad and also proves it was probably good I was an only child.)

Sunday we spent the day at the Plaza Art Fair with my adopted extended family who I love and adore. 

That's them enjoying the art from the curb. My whole goal was not to buy art but to find pumpkin spice gelato. Mission accomplished.

Weekends like this make me grateful from head to toe that we now live close to the people I love most.

bat attack

I'm chilling at my desk this morning enjoying my Friday checking my email and facebook working. I look up and see a BIG HAIRY BAT.

I was not in sound mind to take a picture but here's what I remember him looking like:

Actually,  he was just sleeping his day away probably dreaming about sucking my blood. Unfortunately, I sit in a corner with a window behind me so the only way to leave is by walking directly under said bat. I call my co-worker frantically, "Hi, um, I think there is a bat in the light outside your door!"

Pause. Scream. "I'm closing my door!"

Me: What about me?! I don't have a door.

Screaming co-worker: Come in here!

I grab my bag of grapes (I ran 7.7 miles this morning. I need my snacks, people), my purse (in case the bat steals my ID) and race into co-worker's office.

There we sit. And sit. People come by and talk about the bat's cute little ears as if it were a kitten. Finally the IT director traps it with a washcloth and Styrofoam cup. My co-workers then proceed to reenact my frantic phone call and hurried run into an office. "I never heard someone run so fast!"

This is why I need an office door.