The Tiny Girl Medical Mystery Update: Today is day two at the hospital with my daughter. She was admitted after an evaluation under anesthesia to discover what was happening to cause her vision to suddenly and rapidly deteriorate. At the end of the day, we still don’t have an answer as to the cause.
My daughter has had a head MRI, neck MRI, both with and without contrast and an angiogram added into the mix to look at vasculation. She had an echocardiogram to check the structures of her heart and some chest X-rays to look at some things that wouldn’t be visible on the echocardiogram. Blood was drawn yesterday and some tests were run but today more blood was drawn twice to run more tests.
She has been seen by teams from dermatology, rheumatology and ophthalmology and genetics as well as by a collection of people from the ranks of medical student, resident, fellow, and chief resident.
Things have been ruled our, or marked as “highly unlikely” and new avenues are being considered. Doctors across disciplines have been working together, to try and discover why my daughter’s eyes have two detached retinas and reduced blood flow.
Connections have been considered and looked into, although sometimes those connections are very tangential and weak. Not unlike the same way you would say, “I like Mars Bars; maybe I’m from Mars?” Then, after some cursory investigation, you discover humans have never lived on Mars and decide, “well, it didn’t make sense anyhow.” There have been a lot of those types of ideas floating around.
The number of ideas, conditions, diseases, and defects considered and looked into has been impressive. Everyone has our daughter on their minds and everyone wants to help find an answer so we can begin to treat her appropriately.
At the end of the day today Rheumatology was able to see her. The lead doctor had come by three times and had waited until she returned before going home. We have a plan change as of this evening as a result: intravenous high-dose steroids. This is a preferred course of action but the decision was to hold off for some tests to ensure the results weren’t misleading as a result.
Tomorrow (and what will likely be three more days in the hospital) will see some more tests, although most of the main work has been done. The reason for the extended stay is for the steroids.
As of now, we have some preliminary findings that are good:
- MRI’s are fine (no neck or head issues causing restriction of blood to the eyes, such as a clot)
- Angiogram is fine (would show blood flow issues)
- Echocardiogram is good (would show heart defects)
One other point to bring up that I had clarified to me today is the type of retinal detachment my daughter has. It’s termed “serrous retinal detachment” which means the retinas didn’t tear away from the eye. The serrous fluid builds up between the retinal layer and the layer below. So her retina isn’t torn, which is good. Hopefully it will reconnect when the underlying cause is addressed.
And one other thing: I didn’t know how many readers I had. I think it says I have two subscribers, but it would appear I have more than the three of you out there I imagine when I write these posts. Thanks for the messages and support. We still are steadfast in our belief that this is something that isn’t permanent.
The Big Boy Update: My son missed my daughter. Not only that, he was worried about her. He hugged her and was nice to her and was such a model child when he came to visit her tonight. It made me smile just watching him.
Friday, September 4, 2015
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
Bilateral Detatchment
The Tiny Girl Eye Chronicles: It’s late tonight and I don’t think I have the energy to go into the entire story, but I’ll give it a go.
About a week-and-a-half ago my husband thought my daughter’s pupils were no longer round. He wasn’t sure and we didn’t worry about it until the next day when he had me look at it and then I said, “good grief, that’s definitely not round. What do we do?!” I called for an appointment but they didn’t know if they could get us in. I sent a message to our eye specialist via the medical portal and she got back to me saying she could work us in on Friday.
By Friday her eyes and her vision had changed significantly. Her pupils were constantly dilated, her blue eyes were no longer blue but a strange dirt dark grey color and her vision was very, very bad. She couldn’t see the television any more and had no idea how many fingers you were holding up from seven feet away. We were scared.
Dr. Grace saw her on Friday and agreed something needed to be done and the first step was to do an evaluation under anesthesia so they could get a better look. Her inter-ocular pressure was low so it wasn’t glaucoma. She saw no inflammation or signs of an infection. She wasn’t displaying signs of a concussion from a fall and excluded other things based on her experience.
We didn’t have an answer or a course of action and it was frustrating, but we waited. More emails were exchanged online as her situation worsened visually. Dr. Grace coordinated an OR with two other specialists for this morning. We were very grateful and hoped for some answers today.
The procedure was going to be about a half-hour, she said, but at over an hour in and we guessed the answer wasn’t likely to be simple. When Dr. Grace did come out she told us they had done some extra tests, and thankfully they had the retina specialist available because he had helped in determining some of what was going on.
My daughter has bilateral retinal detachment. There is also low blood flow to both her eyes. That explains some of what’s happening, but it doesn’t give any indication as to why it’s happening. Or, how to stop and fix the situation.
Okay, this is not good, I know you’re thinking the same thing I was thinking when I heard the news. But it doesn’t mean it’s permanent, especially if we get the situation addressed quickly. Dr. Grace said she wanted to admit my daughter to the hospital instead of sending her home because there were other tests and consults she wanted to have done and the best and quickest way to get them done was to have my daughter admitted.
As I write this I’m tired, but I’m hopeful we’ll know more tomorrow. We’re having a brain and neck MRI, a consultation from rheumatology, dermatology and cardiology. They’re performing an angiogram on her and possibly some other tests I don’t know about or have forgotten.
Here’s the thing, is it connective tissues? Is it auto-immune? Does she have a genetic issue like albinism? Is it Marfan’s? The number of things we’ve considered has been large, and most of them don’t fit at all other than the one thing that was used to consider the condition in the first place.
It is a very exciting and challenging mystery. It’s just not fun to have it happen to your own child.
Tomorrow we’ll hopefully know more. My daughter has been great all day, getting only really angry once, and that was when they brought her the grape popsicle instead of the orange one.
The Big Boy Update: My husband was with my son for most of the day. He had one thing to tell me about him when we talked on the phone after bedtime: “he doesn’t get in trouble as much when he doesn’t have someone else he’s trying to boss around.”
About a week-and-a-half ago my husband thought my daughter’s pupils were no longer round. He wasn’t sure and we didn’t worry about it until the next day when he had me look at it and then I said, “good grief, that’s definitely not round. What do we do?!” I called for an appointment but they didn’t know if they could get us in. I sent a message to our eye specialist via the medical portal and she got back to me saying she could work us in on Friday.
By Friday her eyes and her vision had changed significantly. Her pupils were constantly dilated, her blue eyes were no longer blue but a strange dirt dark grey color and her vision was very, very bad. She couldn’t see the television any more and had no idea how many fingers you were holding up from seven feet away. We were scared.
Dr. Grace saw her on Friday and agreed something needed to be done and the first step was to do an evaluation under anesthesia so they could get a better look. Her inter-ocular pressure was low so it wasn’t glaucoma. She saw no inflammation or signs of an infection. She wasn’t displaying signs of a concussion from a fall and excluded other things based on her experience.
We didn’t have an answer or a course of action and it was frustrating, but we waited. More emails were exchanged online as her situation worsened visually. Dr. Grace coordinated an OR with two other specialists for this morning. We were very grateful and hoped for some answers today.
The procedure was going to be about a half-hour, she said, but at over an hour in and we guessed the answer wasn’t likely to be simple. When Dr. Grace did come out she told us they had done some extra tests, and thankfully they had the retina specialist available because he had helped in determining some of what was going on.
My daughter has bilateral retinal detachment. There is also low blood flow to both her eyes. That explains some of what’s happening, but it doesn’t give any indication as to why it’s happening. Or, how to stop and fix the situation.
Okay, this is not good, I know you’re thinking the same thing I was thinking when I heard the news. But it doesn’t mean it’s permanent, especially if we get the situation addressed quickly. Dr. Grace said she wanted to admit my daughter to the hospital instead of sending her home because there were other tests and consults she wanted to have done and the best and quickest way to get them done was to have my daughter admitted.
As I write this I’m tired, but I’m hopeful we’ll know more tomorrow. We’re having a brain and neck MRI, a consultation from rheumatology, dermatology and cardiology. They’re performing an angiogram on her and possibly some other tests I don’t know about or have forgotten.
Here’s the thing, is it connective tissues? Is it auto-immune? Does she have a genetic issue like albinism? Is it Marfan’s? The number of things we’ve considered has been large, and most of them don’t fit at all other than the one thing that was used to consider the condition in the first place.
It is a very exciting and challenging mystery. It’s just not fun to have it happen to your own child.
Tomorrow we’ll hopefully know more. My daughter has been great all day, getting only really angry once, and that was when they brought her the grape popsicle instead of the orange one.
The Big Boy Update: My husband was with my son for most of the day. He had one thing to tell me about him when we talked on the phone after bedtime: “he doesn’t get in trouble as much when he doesn’t have someone else he’s trying to boss around.”
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
I Don’t Like Tomorrow and the Butterfly Massacre
The Big Boy Update: Some days my son has these moments. Today he had several of those moments strung together and then piled on top of each other and lost it at him.
My children had come home from school in happy moods. I gave them bananas to eat in the back of the car and when we got moving, I asked my daughter what was on her finger. She had something that was obviously (to an adult) a pipe cleaner and tissue paper butterfly, but it’s always nice to let the child tell you what they’ve created, so I let her tell me about it.
Her brother didn’t apparently make one or didn’t want to bring what he made home or forgot his or who knows what else, but he didn’t have one. He didn’t care though because he just wanted to eat a banana right then.
We got into the house and each did our after school things, cleaning up, going to the potty, not putting your shoes up in the shoe place and being chased down, brought back in the house and stood over until the shoes were placed in the shoe bin, singing the Old MacDonald’s song with strange farm “items” instead of animals and (if you’re mom) trying to clean up while all this is happening.
There were preludes and signs I should have seen to my son doing something I shall call, “scream-worthy,” but I didn’t see them. There were things happening in my mind that likely caused me to be more on edge and more easily pushed into the top-of-the-lungs screaming, but I didn’t notice that either. Then, it happened.
My son was getting ready to go to dinner, putting his shoes on and he picked up the butterfly his sister made. He told me, “I don’t like butterflies.” I told him that was okay, he didn’t have to make one. He said, “I didn’t make one.” Now I don’t know if he wanted to and didn’t get a chance or was busy and missed the time they were being made or really didn’t want to make one, but the next thing I hear, my daughter is crying miserably. She comes to me with a wad of tissue paper that was her butterfly. My son had crushed it, smashed it, ruined it. So I lost it.
I screamed at him telling him it wasn’t okay. I got the catalog of Halloween things he was holding and tore it in half, saying he it was ruined and saying, “but she can make another one” did not ever mean it was okay to destroy someone else work. I went around the corner and got the sticker page he’d been carefully working on earlier and tore it up in front of his face. I told him to get into the car and that I would not be talking to him during dinner because I didn’t want to spend a meal with someone who would intentionally destroy something someone else had made.
There was a lot of crying and wailing. My son tried everything in the car, including saying, “I don’t like tomorrow!” My husband wouldn’t let him come inside to the restaurant while he was upset, but he eventually calmed down. I gave him cold stares all during dinner and he asked why people kept looking at him, because he knew he’d behaved badly.
He was exhausted mentally from the ordeal and fell asleep on the four minute ride home. We got him up and I told my husband I was going to have a different kind of conversation with him now. I held him and we lay down on the bed together (he was still a little sleepy.) I asked him how he thought his sister felt and did he like how he felt and overall, we just talked about it calmly. He understands what he did, but I’m not sure he wouldn’t do it again if he felt he wanted to. He just has a little bit of something in him that causes things like that to happen.
We’re good friends again, although I will step in again any time I see behavior that needs correcting. Hopefully, it won’t be with screams, but every so often something happens that makes me mad enough to do so. Today, it was the butterfly massacre.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter spent some time today with a balloon’s string, tying it onto the knobs on a dresser. She told me it was for Ghadi’s birthday. She further told me Ghadi was Ghi Ghi’s friend. If Ghadi moves in, that’s four imaginary friends we have running around the house here.
Fitness Update: Seven miles running this morning and then my upper body workout (about a half-hour) this afternoon. It’s only one day a week, but those thirty minutes make all the difference in my upper body. Before I did anything, I had runners legs and arms that only knew how to move back and forth in time with my runners legs.
My children had come home from school in happy moods. I gave them bananas to eat in the back of the car and when we got moving, I asked my daughter what was on her finger. She had something that was obviously (to an adult) a pipe cleaner and tissue paper butterfly, but it’s always nice to let the child tell you what they’ve created, so I let her tell me about it.
Her brother didn’t apparently make one or didn’t want to bring what he made home or forgot his or who knows what else, but he didn’t have one. He didn’t care though because he just wanted to eat a banana right then.
We got into the house and each did our after school things, cleaning up, going to the potty, not putting your shoes up in the shoe place and being chased down, brought back in the house and stood over until the shoes were placed in the shoe bin, singing the Old MacDonald’s song with strange farm “items” instead of animals and (if you’re mom) trying to clean up while all this is happening.
There were preludes and signs I should have seen to my son doing something I shall call, “scream-worthy,” but I didn’t see them. There were things happening in my mind that likely caused me to be more on edge and more easily pushed into the top-of-the-lungs screaming, but I didn’t notice that either. Then, it happened.
My son was getting ready to go to dinner, putting his shoes on and he picked up the butterfly his sister made. He told me, “I don’t like butterflies.” I told him that was okay, he didn’t have to make one. He said, “I didn’t make one.” Now I don’t know if he wanted to and didn’t get a chance or was busy and missed the time they were being made or really didn’t want to make one, but the next thing I hear, my daughter is crying miserably. She comes to me with a wad of tissue paper that was her butterfly. My son had crushed it, smashed it, ruined it. So I lost it.
I screamed at him telling him it wasn’t okay. I got the catalog of Halloween things he was holding and tore it in half, saying he it was ruined and saying, “but she can make another one” did not ever mean it was okay to destroy someone else work. I went around the corner and got the sticker page he’d been carefully working on earlier and tore it up in front of his face. I told him to get into the car and that I would not be talking to him during dinner because I didn’t want to spend a meal with someone who would intentionally destroy something someone else had made.
There was a lot of crying and wailing. My son tried everything in the car, including saying, “I don’t like tomorrow!” My husband wouldn’t let him come inside to the restaurant while he was upset, but he eventually calmed down. I gave him cold stares all during dinner and he asked why people kept looking at him, because he knew he’d behaved badly.
He was exhausted mentally from the ordeal and fell asleep on the four minute ride home. We got him up and I told my husband I was going to have a different kind of conversation with him now. I held him and we lay down on the bed together (he was still a little sleepy.) I asked him how he thought his sister felt and did he like how he felt and overall, we just talked about it calmly. He understands what he did, but I’m not sure he wouldn’t do it again if he felt he wanted to. He just has a little bit of something in him that causes things like that to happen.
We’re good friends again, although I will step in again any time I see behavior that needs correcting. Hopefully, it won’t be with screams, but every so often something happens that makes me mad enough to do so. Today, it was the butterfly massacre.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter spent some time today with a balloon’s string, tying it onto the knobs on a dresser. She told me it was for Ghadi’s birthday. She further told me Ghadi was Ghi Ghi’s friend. If Ghadi moves in, that’s four imaginary friends we have running around the house here.
Fitness Update: Seven miles running this morning and then my upper body workout (about a half-hour) this afternoon. It’s only one day a week, but those thirty minutes make all the difference in my upper body. Before I did anything, I had runners legs and arms that only knew how to move back and forth in time with my runners legs.
Monday, August 31, 2015
I Have Asked Two Times…
…and I will not ask again.
My mother-in-law has told a stories many times of when my husband was young and misbehaving or not listening. In whatever case it was, she would say the phrase, “you don’t want the wrath of mommy on you?” She tells the story today, saying her son didn’t want to know what that wrath was, so he cleaned up or brushed his teeth or made the birthday card for aunt Sally.
I started counting to three a few years ago. I had been recommended a book about counting to three and at three, delivering a consequence if the child didn’t comply. Doing this and being successful takes time, but once you win the 1-2-3 argument, it stays won. I carefully use counting because it always works and I want to make sure it stays that way.
Something that’s come to light more recently is having to ask multiple times for something to happen. It might be to put on shoes. It could be to get dressed to go to school or come in from the playground or stop talking so loudly at the table. Whenever I catch myself asking for something more than once and having my request ignored though, I’ve started using another tactic with them.
I will tell them, “I have asked you to put on your pajamas two times, I will not ask again.” Some of the time I’ll explain to them exactly what will happen if I come back in the room and their little bodies aren’t wearing their pajamas. I might explain that by not getting dressed, it tells me they don’t know how to dress themselves so I will dress them. I tell them I don’t know if they’re going to like how I dress them. For this example, they’ve both experienced me, playing the role of the mom dressing the doll and doing so fairly roughly because it’s time to get to bed.
Just like the 1-2 counting never gets to three, I think I’m getting close to winning the “asking two times" battle too.
The Big Boy Update: We were doing some ABC flashcards for boys my friend told us about. The U was Urinal. I didn’t think my daughter would know what one was, but I thought my son might. I asked him if he knew what the picture was that started with the “yuh” (or U) sound. He looked at it and said, “yoilet?”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Today at dinner my daughter dropped an edamame bean and said, “oh, dammit.” Uncle Jonathan, my husband and I all looked at each other. We asked her what she said and she told us, saying it again as she dropped another bean. We told her she could say, ‘darn it’ instead.
My mother-in-law has told a stories many times of when my husband was young and misbehaving or not listening. In whatever case it was, she would say the phrase, “you don’t want the wrath of mommy on you?” She tells the story today, saying her son didn’t want to know what that wrath was, so he cleaned up or brushed his teeth or made the birthday card for aunt Sally.
I started counting to three a few years ago. I had been recommended a book about counting to three and at three, delivering a consequence if the child didn’t comply. Doing this and being successful takes time, but once you win the 1-2-3 argument, it stays won. I carefully use counting because it always works and I want to make sure it stays that way.
Something that’s come to light more recently is having to ask multiple times for something to happen. It might be to put on shoes. It could be to get dressed to go to school or come in from the playground or stop talking so loudly at the table. Whenever I catch myself asking for something more than once and having my request ignored though, I’ve started using another tactic with them.
I will tell them, “I have asked you to put on your pajamas two times, I will not ask again.” Some of the time I’ll explain to them exactly what will happen if I come back in the room and their little bodies aren’t wearing their pajamas. I might explain that by not getting dressed, it tells me they don’t know how to dress themselves so I will dress them. I tell them I don’t know if they’re going to like how I dress them. For this example, they’ve both experienced me, playing the role of the mom dressing the doll and doing so fairly roughly because it’s time to get to bed.
Just like the 1-2 counting never gets to three, I think I’m getting close to winning the “asking two times" battle too.
The Big Boy Update: We were doing some ABC flashcards for boys my friend told us about. The U was Urinal. I didn’t think my daughter would know what one was, but I thought my son might. I asked him if he knew what the picture was that started with the “yuh” (or U) sound. He looked at it and said, “yoilet?”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Today at dinner my daughter dropped an edamame bean and said, “oh, dammit.” Uncle Jonathan, my husband and I all looked at each other. We asked her what she said and she told us, saying it again as she dropped another bean. We told her she could say, ‘darn it’ instead.
Sunday, August 30, 2015
They Never Break
Something happened tonight that caused me to do a double-take. I wasn’t sure I was seeing things correctly so I went over to the light to check and sure enough, it had happened: I had a broken Lego block.
This wasn’t a Lego block that had been taken to task by a bottle rocket launched at close range from a little boy. It wasn’t rolled over by the tracks on an excavator. It wasn’t melted on an oven to see what the melt point was against a burner and it wasn’t mistreated in any way other than put together to make a “water car” by the children.
It just broke. A whole segment had fallen off when I disconnected one half from the other half. These weren’t new Legos, but they weren’t forty-years-old either. My bricks were well-treated, organized by color, even and should have been steadfast in their solid blockiness for decades more.
But it happened. I’ve kept the brick because for proof. Maybe next week something equally rare will happen and I’ll get an extra twenty-dollar-bill at the ATM.
The Big Boy Tiny Girl Breakfast Making Experience: My son and daughter decided to make me breakfast yesterday. They got out their toy blender, mixer and coffee maker. They filled up one of the containers with water and then moved the water from appliance to appliance, adding some squirt flavoring I gave them as they did so. When they were done they said they had made me coffee. I got out a coffee mug and when they poured it in, it looked just like coffee from all the colors mixing. Next, they got me some wooden toast and put it on a plate. And finally my son made me a pretend cookie “for dessert.” My daughter got me a napkin and they set up my meal at the table. I sat down to eat and my son said, “I want to take a picture mom. I know how to take a picture with the iPad.” And he did know how (although there was an issue with his finger in the way at first.) I told them both thank you for such a delicious looking breakfast.
This wasn’t a Lego block that had been taken to task by a bottle rocket launched at close range from a little boy. It wasn’t rolled over by the tracks on an excavator. It wasn’t melted on an oven to see what the melt point was against a burner and it wasn’t mistreated in any way other than put together to make a “water car” by the children.
It just broke. A whole segment had fallen off when I disconnected one half from the other half. These weren’t new Legos, but they weren’t forty-years-old either. My bricks were well-treated, organized by color, even and should have been steadfast in their solid blockiness for decades more.
But it happened. I’ve kept the brick because for proof. Maybe next week something equally rare will happen and I’ll get an extra twenty-dollar-bill at the ATM.
The Big Boy Tiny Girl Breakfast Making Experience: My son and daughter decided to make me breakfast yesterday. They got out their toy blender, mixer and coffee maker. They filled up one of the containers with water and then moved the water from appliance to appliance, adding some squirt flavoring I gave them as they did so. When they were done they said they had made me coffee. I got out a coffee mug and when they poured it in, it looked just like coffee from all the colors mixing. Next, they got me some wooden toast and put it on a plate. And finally my son made me a pretend cookie “for dessert.” My daughter got me a napkin and they set up my meal at the table. I sat down to eat and my son said, “I want to take a picture mom. I know how to take a picture with the iPad.” And he did know how (although there was an issue with his finger in the way at first.) I told them both thank you for such a delicious looking breakfast.
Saturday, August 29, 2015
Rat Trapped
This is not a delightful post to read so I will warn you at the beginning in case you’d like to come back tomorrow.
My husband and I were in our kitchen today, talking to each other and having discussions with the children as they ate their snack. Suddenly I heard a repetitive thunking sound. I rotated around to place it and realized it was outside in the direction of the air conditioning units. I immediately prepared myself to be both annoyed and frustrated because something had gone wrong with the unit. We had had difficulties in the past, including mechanical issues as well as frozen blades during the winter. I didn’t know what it was and I prepared myself to not like what I found.
I pulled up the blinds on the window just above the units and said to my husband, “stop the unit, we have an animal caught in the blades.” We’re not sure what type of animal it was, because by the time we got outside and had been able to cut off the blower fan, it was unidentifiable.
The fans blow air upwards at the top of the unit and a grate covers the upper edge. Whatever it was had gotten caught between the blades pushing it up and the grate blocking it from exiting. Did it fall off the roof and have its tail caught and pulled forcibly through the grate? Was it somehow inside the unit and got whisked upwards? Whatever it was, it happened fast because it was quiet one minute and a mess the next.
My children were interested in what had happened. We don’t hide things like this from them, so we explained and animal had gotten caught and that the fans were dangerous. My son asked if the animal had been killed and we said that yes, it had and it was very sad. They were fine with that explanation and went back inside. My husband was not fine with the state of the unit and had gone to bring the hose around.
When the fan stopped the animal dropped to the bottom of the unit, in visible sight, in a mass that told me there was fur, but not much else. We decided to not take apart the grill to get to it and just let it decay naturally.
The Big Boy Update: I told my son it was a full moon last night. He immediately ran outside and barked and howled. He told me he heard a fox talk back to him.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter told me today she knew what we’d get dad for his birthday present. She said we could get him, “cereal, crackers, celery, rice and broccoli. I’m thinking about broccoli. I love broccoli. And pretzels. Goodbye!”
Fitness Update: We ran a half marathon this morning in nice crisp air.
My husband and I were in our kitchen today, talking to each other and having discussions with the children as they ate their snack. Suddenly I heard a repetitive thunking sound. I rotated around to place it and realized it was outside in the direction of the air conditioning units. I immediately prepared myself to be both annoyed and frustrated because something had gone wrong with the unit. We had had difficulties in the past, including mechanical issues as well as frozen blades during the winter. I didn’t know what it was and I prepared myself to not like what I found.
I pulled up the blinds on the window just above the units and said to my husband, “stop the unit, we have an animal caught in the blades.” We’re not sure what type of animal it was, because by the time we got outside and had been able to cut off the blower fan, it was unidentifiable.
The fans blow air upwards at the top of the unit and a grate covers the upper edge. Whatever it was had gotten caught between the blades pushing it up and the grate blocking it from exiting. Did it fall off the roof and have its tail caught and pulled forcibly through the grate? Was it somehow inside the unit and got whisked upwards? Whatever it was, it happened fast because it was quiet one minute and a mess the next.
My children were interested in what had happened. We don’t hide things like this from them, so we explained and animal had gotten caught and that the fans were dangerous. My son asked if the animal had been killed and we said that yes, it had and it was very sad. They were fine with that explanation and went back inside. My husband was not fine with the state of the unit and had gone to bring the hose around.
When the fan stopped the animal dropped to the bottom of the unit, in visible sight, in a mass that told me there was fur, but not much else. We decided to not take apart the grill to get to it and just let it decay naturally.
The Big Boy Update: I told my son it was a full moon last night. He immediately ran outside and barked and howled. He told me he heard a fox talk back to him.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter told me today she knew what we’d get dad for his birthday present. She said we could get him, “cereal, crackers, celery, rice and broccoli. I’m thinking about broccoli. I love broccoli. And pretzels. Goodbye!”
Fitness Update: We ran a half marathon this morning in nice crisp air.
Friday, August 28, 2015
The Non-sleeping Shirt
I bought two new shirts yesterday. They’re t-shirt type shirts with nice designs and patterns. One has a cute little pocket that’s totally useless from anything other than a style perspective. The other shirt looks a little sports-ish while being feminine at the same time. I’m wearing one of the shirts today and my husband said he liked my new shirt.
The thing is, both shirts are pajama shirts. Or they’re sleepwear or whatever term you’d use to describe clothing you got in the sleepwear department. They’re not particularly thing or see-through. There is no trace of lace and they’re made from a material that’s comfortable, soft and drapes in a way not-unlike other super soft and comfortable t-shirts in other departments.
On the way out of the store with my non-sleeping, sleepwear shirts I stopped to feel the material and heft of two different shirts on display. Both felt as though they’d make perfect candidates to be sleep shirts, if someone so desired.
So yes, today I’m wearing pajamas out. Tomorrow I’m going to wear my other pajama top and I’m going to feel like I have a little secret that really doesn’t matter about the origins of my two new shirts.
The Big Boy Update: This morning was talking to my son about our friends who have gone on the road to travel. I explained they would be back to visit around Halloween but they would be traveling again for Christmas. I explained to him that we would just have to miss them while they were away. My son told me, “I won’t miss them, I have a hologram of them."
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter is currently wearing a pair of reading glasses. She was peering intently at the beads she was trying to string so I offered them to her. She put them on and was thrilled at the magnification and has decided to keep the glasses around her neck in case she needs to see anything else up close.
The thing is, both shirts are pajama shirts. Or they’re sleepwear or whatever term you’d use to describe clothing you got in the sleepwear department. They’re not particularly thing or see-through. There is no trace of lace and they’re made from a material that’s comfortable, soft and drapes in a way not-unlike other super soft and comfortable t-shirts in other departments.
On the way out of the store with my non-sleeping, sleepwear shirts I stopped to feel the material and heft of two different shirts on display. Both felt as though they’d make perfect candidates to be sleep shirts, if someone so desired.
So yes, today I’m wearing pajamas out. Tomorrow I’m going to wear my other pajama top and I’m going to feel like I have a little secret that really doesn’t matter about the origins of my two new shirts.
The Big Boy Update: This morning was talking to my son about our friends who have gone on the road to travel. I explained they would be back to visit around Halloween but they would be traveling again for Christmas. I explained to him that we would just have to miss them while they were away. My son told me, “I won’t miss them, I have a hologram of them."
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter is currently wearing a pair of reading glasses. She was peering intently at the beads she was trying to string so I offered them to her. She put them on and was thrilled at the magnification and has decided to keep the glasses around her neck in case she needs to see anything else up close.
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