Cast Iron and Pinon

Daddy made an awesome find this weekend:

 

 

Doesn't look like much here, but with a little lot of sanding and a repaint, it now looks like this:

 

 

Have I mentioned we spend well over $1,000 on propane every winter? Have I mentioned that I really don't like spending $1,000 on propane? I can't wait to get this into the house and start cooking on it, heating the house at the same time. The plan was, when M. got off work, we would fire it up outside to roast marshmallows and make sure everything worked okay. (Don't you love sentences that start with, "The plan was..." ?)

 

After lunch, S. was taking her nap, and L. was not. C. was getting squirrely. I decided to take everyone out to collect firewood, while Daddy stayed inside with S. And, as soon as I decided that, the pager went off.

 

With M. gone, I had to stay home with the kids. The more I listened to the radio traffic, the more I wished I could have been on this run as well, but finally S. woke up and we could all go outside as planned. Got a good pile of fallen limbs together, and we were heading inside to start supper when I heard C. say, "I'll get it out." I turned to see him aiming his finger at her nose, and quickly said, "C., don't pick her boogers!" S. was just as quick to reassure me that he wasn't - "It's a rock!"

 

Well, tweezers didn't work - it just kept spinning around - and trying to get her to blow her nose just resulted in her sniffing it further up. Radio traffic told me Daddy still wasn't going to be home any time soon, so I packed everyone in the van, called M., who was on her way home, left a note ("Call us. Don't panic!") on the door, and, as soon as M. pulled in and jumped into the van, headed out for the ER.

 

S. was terribly traumatized. Sang all the way down the hill (rather nasally), happily followed the nurses back without even checking to see if I was coming, and sat nice and still for the doctor (who couldn't get it out with tweezers, either.) Two different suction tubes later, success!

 

Slight pause.

 

Nurse: "It's a bean!"

Me: "It's a pinon nut!"

 

Yes, I kept it. For a $175 copay, I want something tangible.

 

For the after care instructions, the nurse told me to call my primary care physician if we noticed a tree growing out of her right nostril.

 

We had picked up McDonald's and were headed back up the mountain before Daddy got home and called. Needless to say, we didn't get a fire lit in the cookstove. Something to look forward to tonight!

 

But, I'm not letting S. hold the marshmallows.

Home Again Home Again

Quick, Baby L. is napping, and Grandma has C. and S. at the zoo, let's see how much of a blog post I can get typ...oh, never mind.

Well, we are home at any rate, and getting into a schedule of sorts (in other words, we are learning the one Baby L. wishes us to follow). I had a few photos and thoughts I wanted to share before he turns one, starting with the hospital stay.

Why I Like the Hospital:

The people who work there. With a very few exceptions, the staff in the maternity ward are among the nicest and most competent I have ever encountered there - even the woman who was 'floating' from another department was terrific. I am not good at asking for help, and nothing makes you feel as ridiculously helpless as having your stomach muscles sliced open (not to mention being hooked up to twenty different tubes and beeping thingies). I know my family will hand me the book or cup or whatever is just out of my reach, but it's nice to have people on hand that you know are already awake, cheerful, and paid to hand it to you! Eases up on the guilt just a little bit.

The bed. Especially with the aforementioned stomach muscles, it is SO nice to be able to push a button and be moved (slowly!) into a sitting position. Plus, I didn't have to change the sheets. Or wash them.

The food. No, really! Other than one lunch (which my wonderful hubby replaced with Sonic fare), it wasn't bad at all. In fact, since S. was born, they started doing something I thought was really nice: the parents can choose a congratulatory dinner for two from a special menu - in our case rib-eye steak, baked potato, wild rice, cheesecake, and sparkling apple juice. It all comes wheeled in on a pretty little table with all sorts of fancy little touches and a gift. I wish I had taken pictures, but I was too ready to dive in. Here are some of the remnants:

Notice, not a scrap of food left behind!

The visitors. When people visit you in the hospital, they don't care how you look, and will, in fact, tell you how wonderful you look regardless of the truth of that statement. Definite plus. Of course, they aren't really looking at the Mommy, anyway. Some will even provide entertainment:

In the form of a strip tease.

Yes, this is the same child who was pole dancing earlier. Sigh.

The reason you are there. Not always a plus with hospital visits, but nothing beats taking hom a brand new little one. I keep having moments of, "Look, a baby! And we get to keep him!"

Mike thinks he looks like me. I think he looks like Winston Churchill.

See?

Of course, there are a few Things I Don't Like About the Hospital.

The people. As nice as most of them are, they are largely the ones in charge, and hospitals have some stupid rules and procedures. (I blame the insuance industry, though, not the staff.) Our family doctor isn't on the official pediatrician roster, so his initial check-ups were done by someone I have no intention of ever seeing again. (Of course, our family doctor is off galivanting in Mexico this week, but that's beside the point.) They take the baby off at 6:30 AM to run a hearing test that isn't done until after 11:00, then scold you for not nursing often enough. (Daddy did go get him back halfway through there, but all L wanted to do was sleep, and I figured he'd know if he was hungry.)

The bed. While the automatic lift is nice, hospital mattresses don't quite compare to real ones!

The food. It's great to have someone else cook it and bring it to you, but that's generally on their schedule, not yours, and definitely not the baby's. Inevitably it comes half an hour after you were already famished, and two minutes after the baby decided to start nursing. Passed over a lot of cold eggs.

The reason you are there. C-sections have their plusses, but the recovery period definitely has its down-side. Now that I can see my toes again, I want to be able to do all those things I have been putting off, but just maneuvering off the sofa takes more logistical planning than it did when I looked like a floundering sea lion. And then there's the other stuff they don't warn you about in sex ed - like how nursing brings on those contractions you thought you avoided, only you don't get an epidural this way. So not fair! (THIS is the kind if thing they need to teach about in sex ed, btw - I guarantee a drop in teen pregnancies once you get to hemmorhoids and bladder control issues).

The visitors. They are just that. Daddy, of course, could have stayed overnight, but we decided it was better for the other kids to all be home together at night with him. Daddy and I don't often spend evenings apart, and this was the first I've ever been away from S. overnight. I always kiss C. goodnight, even if he's asleep when I get home. And of course, they all wanted to be with the new baby (and possibly Mom).

In other words, it's not home, where I am very glad to be again. More later about how everyone is settling in, but for now - this took an hour to ype, and now that L. is back down again, maybe I can get the hamburger browned for di...never mind.