I’ll have the anxiety combo with a side of nervousness. And super-size that. *Updated*

January 30, 2007

Miss Attitude saw the ophthalmologist* today.  He did find some swelling in her optic nerves, especially on the left side.  He’s sending her for an MRI this Thursday, and then we’ll return to the ophthalmologist’s office next Thursday.  The MRI will – hopefully – rule out anything serious, things I don’t want to type here or even think about.

*Update: My sweet friend Miss Susie Fairchild suggested I let the internet know what time Miss Attitude will have her MRI, so that my internet friends can “pray her through it,”  a brilliant idea if ever there was one.  Miss Attitude’s MRI is scheduled for tomorrow (Thursday, 2/01) at 4:30 PM Central time.  Any prayers or good thoughts you send her way at that time are greatly appreciated.

Re-Updated to add this map for the time-zonally challenged (like myself).  Central time zone is the green area.  The blue area immediately to the east is the Eastern time zone, which is one hour ahead of Central time.  The red area immediately to the west is one hour behind.  The blue area on the far left is two hours behind.


The good news: the ophthalmologist said pseudotumor cerebri is fairly easy to treat, so I guess that diagnosis is the one to hope for, at this point.

More good news: the ophthalmologist was thoroughly impressed with and highly complimentary of our pediatrician.  He said most doctors who are not eye doctors would not have caught this.  We’ve always loved our pediatrician and had great confidence in him and in his abilities – all three of our kids have seen him since they were babies – but it was nice to hear another doctor confirm what we’ve known for years: that our pediatrician is – in the ophthalmologist’s words – “top notch.”

Thank you all so much for your prayers and good wishes.  I’m carrying them with me in my heart.  I hope you’ll keep it up for the next week or so, until we know for sure what’s going on with my sweet girl.

In other news, Deputy Dad and I celebrated a decade of parenthood today, as our Drama Queen turned ten years old.  She’s most definitely a tween-ager now…so silly and little girl one minute, so grown-up the next.  Before I had kids, I always thought I wanted boys – no girls.  Did I ever tell you that?  It stemmed from my horrible relationship with my own mother…I was just sure there was no way I could handle a daughter.  And then The Drama Queen came along.  And my, how she’s growing up.  She’s beautiful.  Intelligent.  Witty.  Sweet-hearted.  Loving.  Caring.  Strong.  Everything I never knew I wanted in a daughter.  I love her so much.

Thanks again, everyone, for your prayers and your kindness.  I’ll keep you posted, when we know more.

*Why didn’t you guys tell me I was spelling ophthalmologist wrong in that last entry?!  And, damn!  Have you ever in your life seen a word with a more complicated spelling??


“When life gets you down, do you wanna know what you’ve gotta do? … Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming…”

January 26, 2007

I’ve spent the last hour trying to come up with something clever and witty to say.  But I’ve got nothing.  I’m too stressed out and worried to be witty.

Miss Attitude has been having headaches.  And I had noticed she’d put on some weight.  She had another bout of pneumonia a few weeks ago, and had to go on her respiratory steroid twice in a two-and-a-half week period.  Her face got puffy, which isn’t unusual when she’s been on the steroid; but it usually goes away within a week or two after she stops the medicine.  This time it didn’t; and I could tell she gained weight in other areas as well.

Turns out that combination of headaches and weight gain in a child with a lot of exposure to respiratory steroids is symptomatic of a pseudotumor (literally, “false tumor”).  Miss Attitude has an appointment next Tuesday (1/30) with an opthamologist, who will dilate her eyes and examine her thoroughly.  I’m assuming – from reading the linked article – he’ll be checking for swelling of the optic nerve.  And I guess we’ll find out then what the next step is, depending on what he finds.

I’m scared.  And worried.  And totally stressed out.  And I just don’t think it’s fair that my eight-year-old baby girl is having to deal with headaches every day, as she tries to go through her normal, daily activities.  She’s already been through so much in her life, with her asthma troubles and various related problems…recurring pneumonia, the infection in her lung a couple years ago, etc.  Sometimes I feel like the poor kid can’t catch a break.  And yes, I know it could be worse, and I know I need to remember to count our blessings, but… But she’s my baby girl.  And she’s hurting.  And I’m scared and worried.

If you’re the praying sort, would you please whisper a prayer for Miss Attitude when you have a moment?  And if you’re not the praying type, perhaps you could just send some feel-better vibes her way?  I’d be ever so grateful.


January 17, 2007

Please click here to see a stunning photo of my brand new – and absolutely darling – nephew, Gavin Michael, son of my biological brother, Joey and his sweet wife, Momo.  I couldn’t be happier for them.

Two days. Two significant blows to the ego.

January 6, 2007


The Drama Queen:  Mom, when you were a little girl, did people think no one would ever go to the moon?

LadyBug:  [Drama Queen]!  Man landed on the moon before I was even born!

DQ:  Oooookaaaaayyyy!  Geez, sorry, I didn’t know!

~ ~ ~

Today, in the car, Elvis Presley’s “Hound Dog” comes on the radio:

DQ:  Mom, when was Elvis around?

LB:  A long time ago, baby.  I think he died the year I was born.*

DQ:  Oh, so it was, like, the 1700s??

LB:  ! ! !

~ ~ ~

*Note:  I was wrong on that fact.  Elvis died in 1977, three years after I was born.  But, still.  The freaking 1700s??

On days like this one…

January 4, 2007

Sometimes, all a mother can do is count down the minutes until bedtime…

For auld lang syne…

January 1, 2007

I once heard that (supposedly) whatever you’re doing at midnight on New Year’s Eve is what you’ll be doing all year long.  I certainly hope that’s not true.  Every last family member (in-laws included) is either suffering with or struggling to recover from a cold we all shared with each other in an overzealous display of holiday generosity.  You know, the Spirit of Giving and all that.

In spite of our present, germ-infested state and the fact that – between the sick kids, the medicine for the sick kids, and the work I missed because of the sick kids – we’re starting out the New Year both contagious and financially doomed, I still find myself oddly optimistic and hopeful.  Maybe it’s because I’m sitting here in my warm, comfortable home, listening to my new mp3 player Deputy Dad surprised me with for Christmas.  (Warning to grammar geeks (of which I am one): Make no attempt to diagram the previous sentence, especially that whole with for disaster.  Just make a mental note that it’s currently 1:40 AM, decide to forgive my grammatical transgressions, and move on.)  Maybe it’s because my beautiful children are sleeping peacefully in their warm beds, my sweetheart is lightly snoring in the recliner next to me, and the puppy is curled up asleep on the couch.  Maybe it’s just because we took down the Christmas tree today, so that project’s not staring me in the face anymore.

Or maybe it’s because I’ve spent the last several days being consciously thankful for every little thing, and that’s improving my outlook.

Whatever the reason, I find myself hoping for good things in 2007.

As for you, my Internet Friends, I hope for good things for you as well.  If 2006 was a rough year for you (and I know it was for some of my dearest blogging buddies), then I hope 2007 is much, much better.  And if 2006 was a good year for you, I hope 2007 is spectacular.

A dear friend reminded me recently how important Hope is.  I’m holding on to Hope.  For me.  For Susie.  For you.

Happy New Year, my Internet Friends.  May God bless you and those you love today and every day.