Tough day for the Ruts

Normally, I wouldn't share a tale of gastroenteritis on a blog entry because I don't want anybody to create a picture in their mind of what I went through yesterday. There's a semi-humorous part at the end though, so I can't resist. To put it briefly, my GI tract threw such a violent tantrum, within 4 hours of symptoms beginning, I knew I needed to go to the hospital for serious dehydration. So my already-stressed-out-with-too-much-to-do-husband had to skip an important assignment at school to take me to the ER, then wait in the waiting room with a very frustrated Seth--who only breastfeeds and had to be away from me for about 7 hours. Our country's emergency room crisis was all too real yesterday as I had to beg for somewhere to lie down so I wouldn't faint in the waiting room chair, beg for an IV, beg for help to get to a bathroom because I was too weak, blah, blah, blah. Anyway, after several hours, five needle sticks to get an IV into my dry veins (which are normally big blue pipes that were always the guinea pig for nursing school IV practice), and 2 1/2 liters of saline later, I felt much better. To top things off that evening, Seth decided to cut a new tooth. I wasn't exactly in the mood to wake up with him in the night.
So, here's the funny part of the day. Before I called Aaron home from school in the morning, I was trying to care for Seth during my illness. As I'm sitting there with a large barf bowl in my hands and retching into it, Seth crawls over and looks at me. He hears me making these funny noises and sees me occasionally lifting my head up out of the bowl to take a breather. He thinks I'm playing peek-a-boo with him, and starts cracking up hysterically. The more I barfed, the louder his laughing got. The two of us were quite a scene. Way to lighten up the situation Seth!

Seth and his Alien Hand Syndrome

For those of you who have never heard of Alien Hand Syndrome, it's a real neurological condition in which a person's limb doesn't seem like part of their body, and acts independent of their conscious control. The alien hand can do things like unbutton a shirt or play the piano (seemingly replaying motor tasks without the voluntary control of the person).
So, I think Seth's right hand is an alien hand, and for some reason breastfeeding triggers it. It's funny/annoying because as soon as he starts nursing while lying on his left side, his arm goes a little nuts. He waves his arm in the air, finds my face, starts clawing and slapping my face, puts his hand in my mouth and pulls down on my jaw, pinches my neck skin, and sometimes ends up repetitively hitting himself on the head with his fist. I don't know what the freak this kid is doing, and why his right arm hates me.
I know a blog entry isn't nearly as fun without a photo or video to go with it. I've asked Aaron to please document Seth's alien hand, but because he does it while breastfeeding, Aaron's afraid he wouldn't be able to keep it PG-13.

It's the most horrible time, of the year (to the tune of 'It's the most wonderful time of the year')

So, as football season winds down, I'm mentally bunkering down for the next few months. Right now I'm in a lecture listening to the concept of reduced filament lattice spacing in the sarcomeres of cardiac myocytes. As interesting as cardiovascular physiology can be, the key to my sanity (aside from spending time with Lindsay and Seth of course) is calculated distraction. Planned procrastination. A little bit of mind numbing, TV watching, ESPN-online article-reading, time-wasting. Yes, i need my sports. For some reason or another, basketball doesn't suck my attention like baseball and football do. As a result, February and March are my least favorite months. Once the Super Bowl is over, I will likely feel an emptiness within until late March when the excitement of opening day (baseball) approaches. Sure, I'll spend an inordinate amount of time reading articles about how bad the A's and Giants are going to be, is Johan Santana going to be traded, will Kevin Frandsen replace Ray Durham at second base, etc. etc. Unfortunately, the media spends too much time on Roger Clemens and steroids and not enough time on who's going to play second base. I mean, who IS going to play second base? It's killing me! All this to say that I miss baseball, football is almost over, and I'm gonna need more than March Madness to hold me over until April (I know most people really love College Basketball, and I like it a lot, but it just really doesn't do it for me in the same way). I wish I could get Dominican League baseball on satellite. Oh well. I guess I'll have more time to learn my renal electrolyte gradients, but I might just go crazy doing it.

Thanks for the mammaries Mom

So our boy is almost 10 months old, and still sustains himself 95% off breastmilk, from the source (no bottles, sippy-cups, etc.). He's a bit stubborn, and insists on doing everything himself; for example, he refuses to eat anything that you feed him with a spoon unless you load up the spoon and hand it to him. He'll also drink water and stuff as long as it's from your glass and he can hold it. Unfortunately this is not the most efficient way to nourish him as very little finds its way down the esophagus. He's also very picky, especially about textures, so mushy stuff is almost out of the question. He prefers cheerios, black beans, and pizza crust. Oh, and fresh lemons too--weird. Anyway, here's a video from about a month and a half ago of his antics. He also likes to mimic us now, so you might notice that he does his fair share of head shaking. What a character. If he doesn't start eating more soon I'm going to steal a glucose drip from the hospital so I can reclaim Lindsay's breasts for myself.

A Bittersweet Visit

For those in my family who check our blog, I thought it'd be fun to post a picture of a visit we made to see Grammy Shields. Unfortunately, she has severe dementia and has to live in an elderly care facility. When we lived in the bay area, I admit I didn't visit her all that often (at 9 months old, this was her first time meeting Seth). It's kind of tough to see someone you love, who used to be so intelligent and capable in the kind of state she's now in. I admit part of me wanted to break down and cry during our visit, but I was really glad I could bring Seth and have a fun time with her that day. He instantly charmed her, and she kept saying "he smiles and everything!" She had a lot of smiles that afternoon too, which was great to see, even if she won't remember it, I will.

Peek-A-Boo

Christmas and stuff

We spent Christmas in the Bay Area, taking turns between our two families. It was great to be back in the area we love with the family we love, eating things like beef wellington and buttery shrimp (and way too much dessert). Speaking of desserts, one of the sadly funny moments of the trip was when my dad was ultra excited to make some oatmeal macadamia white chocolate chip cookies. It's quite a production when he bakes because he loudly announces every ingredient going into the bowl. It's pretty cute. I think even if we asked him to shut up, he couldn't do it. He must announce each ingredient in his booming voice. Anyway, after all his efforts, he left out half the sugar and was devastated that his cookie dreams were destroyed (and upset about the $8 can of nuts he used up). We still ate them. They were great dipped in chocolate.
On Christmas morning, by the time everyone rolled out of bed, ate breakfast, and got around to opening gifts, Seth was fussy and ready for a nap. He quickly forgot his weariness when a sea of boxes to climb on with paper to tear were placed before him. He had a ball. Below is a short video clip.
Our families were very generous in their gifts to us. My kitchen gadgetry increased tenfold. Aaron got a cool new watch. Seth got a sweater to pick up chicks in, as well as a toy jumbo jet with tourists, luggage, and a British captain that says "Please fasten your seat belts and prepare for take off". Unfortunately Santa also brought Seth a nasty cold that put a real damper on the trip (those filthy elves plant fomites on children's toys--I know it!).