Past the rapids

I made two different kinds of cookies this week. You know what that means? My life has found it's feet again. That's one of the first things to get cut from the time budget in the case of overloads. And thanks to a thoughtful new friend, (don't worry, I won't toot your horn, Rebecca) I even had the day off to hit a few garage sales. Oooh, how I missed garage saling days. They are back!! And so am I!!!

My garage sale find of the day. I fell in love at first sight. Michelle so brilliantly suggested to use it as a coffee table. Love that. I prefer an eclectic look over a matchy-matchy one any day. Mine is still m-m. Some day.

Still not saying I'm St. Urho.

That guy on the left, named Urho, will produce grapes. His friend on the right, raspberries. Her name is Saija, named after a world renowned Finnish horse trainer. I'm keepin' it real- long live the Finnish heritage!! And the descendants of the great man himself, St. Urho. (Oh, weird. Tara! Twice in a week? Wow. Didn't expect that. You look really grape today! Doesn't she, people?)

I'm not claiming to be St. Urho.

But I have been known to buy 5+ lbs of grapes at a time. Just sayin'. Oh, hi, my awesome sister Tara! Didn't realize you would be reading this.

Big deal if I cleaned the counter and refused to wait ten seconds for it to dry. Whatev. Least I clean it.

I apologize for the horrid pics I posted earlier, if you saw them. These look slightly better. The color of my living room isn't exactly like this. Guess you'll have to come over and see it for yourself.

What to do about this? I need a window treatment for this baby because the sun beats so hard in it every a.m. And I need the curtains to pull all the way across, so I can't add a support to the rod. Plus, Zane doesn't want me to hide the arch of the window.

Psht. You are just jealous about my mad camera skills. I would be, too, if I were you. I'm pretty much an award winning photographer.

Danka.

I like to move it, move it...

My little wiggly, giggly

Kaija Paija

But, seriously. Thank you. Why as mommies do we feel we need permission for something as natural as our emotions? I mean, seriously. We can't help our emotions. I've been OvErWhElMeD (to say the least) this entire new year. And I really was banking on the fact that this x-ray we had taken was going to be the climax to it all. This new year's resolution was going to be a different kind... and it was going to be that I could finally! relax and let the stress all slide off my shoulders. And when that didn't happen, I felt like someone slapped me across the face. And even though I said I was going to have a temper tantrum, I didn't let myself. Until I felt the understanding and compassion in your comments in my last post. And the permission to be mad! It was just what the Dr. ordered. Since I've been so honest, I might as well continue: I bawled myself to sleep last night. It's been a while since I cried that well. And I woke up with puffy eyes but with a lot less weight on my shoulders. So thank you, for your permission and understanding. Sometimes it is worth it to show your raw emotions to the world, after all.

...than a wet hen.

Excuse my French in the previous post. I won't apologize- it's a fraction of how I felt.

I'm not scared. I'm not anxious. Or sad. Or overwhelmed. Or nervous. Or bewildered. Or, or, or. I'm mad. I know the lingo. I know the different positions you need for x-rays for hips. I know the angles a good hip should have. I can look at an x-ray and tell you whether your baby has hip dysplasia or not. I know the different types of braces, casts, etc. I know the different ways hips can be corrected. I know I can do it. I can make it through. I don't even care that people stare- they are just curious. (btw: feel free to ask people what's wrong- we don't get offended) I don't care that I have extra steps in changing my baby. That doesn't bother me.

I'm mad because I don't want to have to buy clothes and dress my baby around a brace. I'm mad that the cute little summer clothes I just bought aren't going to work. I'm mad that I can't just carry my baby on my hip as easily as all the other mommies do. I'm mad that I can't just snuggle with my baby without a brace between us. I'm mad that it will be to uncomfortable to fall asleep with my baby in my arms after feeding her in middle of the night. I'm mad that my baby can't fit in the normal baby things (exersaucers, strollers, etc.). I'm mad that I can't just go out to the park with my baby in the summer, because the brace will make her sweat too much. But, mostly I'm mad because I have to watch my little baby learn to crawl and walk with a brace hindering her, although she won't think it is.

I'm mad- that's what I am. I don't want to have to do those things. But I will because it means my baby will lead a better life.

Not fair.

@#%*!!! My baby has hip dysplasia. Third one in a row. That's not fair. I'm going to have a temper tantrum now.

Explanation:

According to my dictionary, an opinion is: 1. a view, judgement, or appraisal formed in the mind about a particular matter. 2. a belief stronger than impression and less strong than positive knowledge.

An opinion is not a fact. It is how you think and feel. Period.

I'm just tired of people preaching to "be nice" and then not doing the same. Yes, we should. No doubt. But it's a double standard. Why can't these same people preach that to the people who have the same opinion as them? I remember a particular political discussion on Facebook where a person who opposed my view was lashing out, saying the people who disagreed with him were "uneducated, uninformed, not compassionate...". The person who started this discussion sat by and did nothing. However. When someone with my shared beliefs said something along those lines, that person was called out on it. Double standard.

Can we please stop calling people names? And picking apart the most ridiculous things? Really? Just because we have a difference of opinion? Are we that petty? BE NICE. Everybody.

That's all I have to say about that. I think.