Just Heather

For some reason I can’t seem to put into words the most difficult things in my life. Others share their struggles so eloquently, but I tend ignore my greatest challenges here.

For the last 5 months we have been dealing with the dreaded “failure to thrive” notation at Lorelai’s checkups. She dropped weight percentiles at her 4 month checkup, but no one was overly concerned because sometimes a baby’s weight will dip now and then. At her 6 month checkup, it dipped yet again. We then began monthly weight checks. At 8 months she moved up to the 10th percentile and it looked like things were moving along.

Between 8 and 9 months, she lost 2 ounces. That may not sound like much to you and me, but to an infant who is supposed to gain 8-12 ounces per month, that’s a lot of weight loss. So two weeks ago I took my littlest baby girl to the hospital and allowed them to do this:

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The results of her CBC and MP came back normal so doc wanted to play the wait and see game. Because I’m not interested in “wait and see” where my children’s health is concerned (but mostly because I’m incredibly impatient), I made an appointment to discuss the issue and also told them about some rash problems she has had. She broke out in hives after eating an orange (though it was juicy and could have been a skin sensitivity issue due to the mess on her face) and after her sisters ate strawberries.

We went back to the hospital this afternoon so they could take more blood and run a series of tests to detect celiac disease. If that is positive, we get the joy of a consultation with a GI and a lifelong adherence to a gluten-free diet. If it is negative, we move on to a consultation with an allergist and the infamous prick tests to determine what is causing all the allergy symptoms.

Most signs do, indeed, point to celiac disease though the symptoms are fairly generic and could fall into many other categories. I’m keeping my fingers crossed it is something else. While I think I could handle quite easily a few specific allergies, celiac disease is a whole different ball game. CD is not an allergy—it is an autoimmune disease triggered by gluten. And while the disease can be onset at any age, it is not something she’ll outgrow.

I’ve been keeping my fingers crossed that her lactose intolerance was an infant thing that she’d outgrow quickly. If we get the CD diagnosis, it’s likely that the lactose intolerance will stick too as they sometimes go hand in hand. We’re talking a lifelong gluten-free, dairy-free diet.

We should have the CD results within a week, hopefully by Monday. I’m a natural worrier though, so it should be a fun several days.

This afternoon, I was lamenting our fall schedule to hubby. I mentioned that tomorrow was our last free evening for the next two weeks, with the exception of Sunday which is totally clear (though I’m sure that will be filled with leftover home improvement projects). He shrugs it off and decides to go see a movie about snakes on a plane.

Fast forward to this evening while I’m at the grocery store buying ingredients for a nice dinner since this is now our last free evening for 2 weeks. He calls to let me know he’s having dinner with the guys for what ever reason. I have no idea what; I heard the word free and am not genetically engineered to turn it down.

I say, well there goes our free nights for 2 weeks. He is stunned by this statement—which only goes to prove that he never listens to me. I, naturally, am not at all surprised that he didn’t hear me say that very thing just 5 hours prior. Apparently, he thought I was kidding.

If wishes were horses…

We’ve spent a ton of money at Menards in the last few months, for obvious reasons. Last week we returned some extra things we had and bought some new. When we were making the returns, I told the cashier we needed to spend it right away and she said we would be fine. Well, she was wrong-the debits all came through on Monday and the credits were held until Tuesday, resulting in $178 in overdraft fees.

The bank was completely unwilling to waive them even when I had receipts with the correct time stamps. They claimed the problem was on Menards end and they can only refund for a bank error. I was pretty surprised that National City would rather charge $178 that wasn’t deserved than keep a customer. That account will be closed this week.

Onto Menards, where the front end manager said that the cashier was wrong; it takes a couple days to process credits through their bank. She said she should have given us a store credit to use right away. Then she offered to transfer me to the store manager when I asked about getting my $180 back.

He was so rude (and also an idiot!) He said that it goes immediately to our bank and he doesn’t know why our bank would wait. I explained that his service manager disagreed and he didn’t care. I asked if I was just out $178 for choosing to shop at Menards instead of Lowe’s across the street (my exact words). He said “Yep.” I kid you not—the store manager for a company who claims “Guest Satisfaction is our number one goal” actually said that out loud!

I got a phone number for corporate, but he hung up on me when I asked his name. I called back and got it, but it didn’t it do me much good in calling Menards. They do not answer the phone at corporate; they ask for everything in writing and give you the address and fax before disconnecting you.

I sent a letter to corporate via their website, but I also sent the information to our local Call 6 for Help news investiagtion team. I hope to get my money back from someone somehow. In the meantime, I will tell everyone I know how much they all suck!

What the hell kind of crappy Mommy blog am I running around here? School started 3 days ago, and have any of you seen first day of school pics? Nope. I’m too focused on the fact that my house now has a floor and a ceiling.

Stacia is in 3rd grade this year, and I am already highly impressed with her new teacher. About 2 weeks before school started, she received a letter in the mail from her teacher introducing herself and including pictures of the classroom. At the ice cream social a week before school began, her teacher was there and new every kid by face. (Someone studied the yearbook!) The room was ready, supplies were laid out, seating arrangements were already marked so the kids could get a good feel for how 3rd grade would start.

Third grade is a big deal—she’s now in the top half of her school. In only 2 years, she’ll be moving on to bigger and better things at the intermediate school. Third grade is so big, in fact, that she is now too mature for first day of school pictures. I was forced to stay up on the shadowy porch lest other kids see the embarrassment of having a mom with a camera. She’s got about 9 more years to get over it. I will have a first day of school picture every year until she graduates. And then I am sure I will follow her to college and take plenty of cheesy pictures there, too. She has her grandma to thank for that.

Thus, I present to you the first day of school pictures I was allowed to take (and 1 more she didn’t see me sneak in!)

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Apparently, I would be horrible at selecting hit television shows. Everything I love gets canceled.

Last year my favorite show (aside from Gilmore Girls, which will always be my favorite—just ask my daughter Lorelai AKA Rory) was Related. This year? Canceled! Since it was an early season ending, I added a new mid-season show—The Evidence. Just one month later? Canceled!

Did I mention I watched the pilot episode of Emily’s Reasons Why Not? The one and only episode which—by the way—I actually thought was really funny. It even included clips of the next episode. That never aired.

This summer I am really liking Windfall. I expect it to be cancelled shortly. I’ll be sure to let you all in on my fall DVR list so you don’t get too attached to anything.

Only 7 days until the big yellow bus arrives to separate my children for several hours each day. I can’t decide if I’m excited or sad to see the summer go. On the one hand, I am so sick and tired of the fighting, whining, tattling and general siblingness. On the other, in just a few short weeks I will be sick to death of packing lunches, supervising homework, feeling guilty as I place volunteer requests into the recycle bin, and driving to and from just about everywhere. It’s a trade off, I suppose. A competition of which list gives me the largest headache. The delicate balancing act of parenthood.

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