I may have some new readers soon, so I should write some stuff, maybe

I'm willing to bet most of my readers have gotten so disgusted with my
inability to type a few words on a computer and hit "Post" that they've
stopped reading.  QUITTERS!  I can't believe having something to read is
your only reason for coming here!  Whateva!

My life has been crazy, as per usual.  You'll all be happy to know that
Kiblet #2 is in pre-production -- or, as a particularly astute family
friend pointed out, "pre-reproduction."  At the end of this week, which is
the end of my pack of birth control pills, I will not be starting another
pack immediately so as to avoid a period, as I've been doing since about
January, but I will instead stop taking them altogether, and more than
likely turning into a raving lunatic (meaning I will get my period).  Merry
Christmas to me!  And Brian!  And anyone in my general vicinity who says
anything even mildly annoying!

So I'll be off the pill until March, when we'll start our next in vitro
cycle.  Egg retrieval and transfer of embryos will be at the end of
March/beginning of April, so, crossing our fingers this all works the first
time around again, by this time next year we'll have a new bundle of
red-headed deliciousness to snuggle.  And if it doesn't work, I'll be
drinking heavily at my friend Jody's wedding in New York City in July.
Win/Win?  Well, not really, but whatever.

We haven't made a solid decision about whether or not this will be our last
child, but the doctors are nudging me toward having one more, then having a
hysterectomy.  With all the pain I have, even on continuous birth control
and not getting a period, from my endometriosis, they think it'd be best to
just take it all out.  I'm conflicted.  That's a hard decision.  I'll be 31
in April 2012.  Having a hysterectomy that young is a scary thought. We'd
like to have more than two children. Never having to deal with periods
again is a wonderful thought, though.  So we're keeping an open mind.
We've talked about adopting, as well, and that's sounding more and more appealing the older ai get. I think we'll know when we know, so we're not stressing about it yet.

Meanwhile, Ellie is growing and thriving, and she's hysterical.  Her verbal skills are out of this world.  You can have an entire conversation with her.  My chiropractor actually thought she was 3, and that was before her 2nd birthday.  She's such a chatterbox.  And, though she's in the Terrible Twos, they're her version of the Terrible Twos, which is like some other kids' version of every day, really.  She's just so calm and easy-going.  She has the occasional outburst, and I can tell she's got my temper and my lack of patience, but I'm trying really hard to get my personality faults under control so I can show her how to control hers.  We're all learning together.  Proof positive that your children can teach you as much, if not more, than you can teach them.
 
Her new favorite word is -- wait for it -- "DAMMIT."  Yep.  As in, "Daddy, here's your pants."  "No, Ellie, that's my sweatshirt."  "Oh, DAMMIT!"  or "I dropped that box, DAMMIT!" 
 
It's actually kind of hysterical.  And, honestly, I'm surprised her first swear word wasn't "douchebag" or "fuck" or "get out of the fast lane, asshole!"  because I say those things WAY more often than I say "dammit." 
 
We're trying to replace "dammit" with "shucky darn," since she seems to think that's a funny phrase.  And we explained to her that it's Mommy and Daddy's fault that she knows that word, and we shouldn't say it either, and we'll be careful not to say bad words too. 
 
Her new obsession is Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. It's not the old Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.  This is a cartoon where they teach problem-solving skills.  They have a little guy called Toodles, and they call him and he brings "Mousketools" that can help them solve problems.  She LOVES it.  Like to a point that I think might be incredibly unhealthy.  When we get her out of bed int he morning, while she's still half asleep, she starts singing the theme song, even with her binky still in, "Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, come inside, it's fun inside."  The other day she brought home a heluim balloon from her cousin's birthday party, and it was hovering near the ceiling.  Vader, our cat, was standing on the back of the rocking chair trying to get it -- presumably to eat the string so he could hoark it up somewhere incredibly inconvenient later -- and he wasn't having any luck.  Ellie said, "I think Vader needs a Mouseketool!"
 
Cue uncontrollable laughter by us.
 
I've decided Year 2 of having a child is the Year of Saying Sentences You Never Thought You'd Ever Have to Say: 
 
"Ellie, please don't lick the refridgerator." 
 
"I realize that that is 'tickly,' but please take that fish off your butt (vagina); that's not what our bath toys are for." 
 
"Ellie, we don't crumple up pictures of our friends and put them in our shoes." 
 
"No, you can't make Phoebe (the cat) play Hide-N-Seek.  She doesn't want to." 

"No, Mommy's boobies are not cows.  Nope, not pigs either." (I was wearing a pink bra). 
 
"No, we can't put your Halloween costume back on and go trick-or-treating again to get more candy.  It's December."

 
She's beyond excited about Christmas.  She sings Christmas songs all day.  Rudolph is her favorite, but she's also known to break into a chorus of Santa Claus is Coming to Town or Frosty the Snowman.  The amazing thing about this is that she memorized these songs after hearing them maybe once.  She's got a crazy memory.
 
We put our tree up just after Thanksgiving, and when we plugged it in (it's pre-lit), she literally gasped, and said, "That's beautiful!" 
 
The child is just happy to be alive.  Which makes everyone around her happy to be alive.
 
Which is good, because things everywhere else in our family are not going so well.  My uncle, who has been in and out of prison and rehab my entire life, is again not welcome at my grandparents' house because their drug safe was broken into the last time he was there.
 
My grandmother was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease a few weeks ago.  She has spells where she passes out, or has stroke-like symptoms.  They've put her on medication, which they say will stop the progression of the disease, but she's taken the diagnosis hard.  She's depressed and sad.  My grandpa is taking care of her, but he's in no better shape.  He's still having lung issues.  Both of them have to use walkers.  He's still on oxygen and has yet another lung infection (which is apparently his own fault because he was sanding a dresser or something).  They've both fallen several times over the last few months.  Grandpa had broken ribs and was terribly bruised up after one such episode.  Both have non-life-threatening issues that require surgery to correct, but the doctors have told both of them that neither will live through surgery.
 
They refuse to go into some sort of assisted living, and instead expect the family to take care of them.  Which is fine, except we all have jobs and other things going on, too, that have to be attended to.  My mom, who is the oldest child, takes the brunt of the responsibility, particularly since my uncle is no longer allowed in the house.  My aunt helps, but she's got a teenage daughter and a son in college, and a job, so she's pretty busy.  So my mom's pretty  stressed out.
 
My sister is still in Florida.  I miss her.  Probably more than she realizes.  But she's really doing well down there.  That wasn't the case a few months ago.  I was pretty worried, actually, and I was ready to get on a plane and go down there to move her back home, but she's finally found her niche, I think, and she's in a good place.  Her decision to move down there is still causing tension in the family, though.  My dad seems to think that children moving away from their families is unnatural, and he's angry.  He's also hurt, but he doesn't really express it that way, he just always sounds angry.  I know he's hurting, because I'm just like him, but the way he and my sister are communicating isn't working.  And it goes both ways.  She's defensive and tends to take everything he says negatively.  He comes at her more aggressively than he should, and that makes her even more aggressive.  And I tend to get stuck in the middle of it.  But I do that to myself.  For some reason, I feel the need to fix it.  The latest episode made her feel unwelcome to come home for Christmas, which caused me to call my dad and have a huge fight with him.  It wasn't fun, and I'm still upset about it.  I'm done arguing with him about it, but I'm still upset.
 
But my sister will be coming home for Christmas, it'll just be the day after, and she'll be staying with us through the first of the year.  It'll be so nice to have her and the girls at our house and get to spend some time with them.  I'm really hoping she'll get in some quality time with everyone in the family and maybe flesh out some of the issues that are going on so some of this tension can be relieved.  I think everyone owes everyone an apology, and a big "I respect your decisions, and I love you no matter what." 
 
And I think I need a break from trying to fix everyone's problems.  I have my own problems.  I'm having a really hard time with my mental health lately.  I think it's the holidays.  With my grandparents being as ill as they are and my sister being gone, everything is just way too different for me, and I don't do change well.  I knew my meds needed an adjustment and had an appointment set up with my family doctor for this past Tuesday, but over the past weekend I actually started having panic attacks and suicidal thoughts.  I would never have done anything.  I know I'm loved, and I know what that would do to the people who love me, but I hated the feeling, and I was scared.  So on Monday morning I went to the ER.  They reassured me that I wasn't going crazy, and gave me some Xanax.  I also got my appointment with my family doc moved up to that day, and he put me on a supplemental antidepressant in addition to the one I already had, and said he'd refill the Xanax for me, and then I got in with my therapist in the same day.  By the time I got home, I felt better.  I'm still having ups and downs, and Xanax is still my friend, but for the most part I think I'm ok now.  I think once the holidays are over, I'll be okay.  It's just too much change, and too much drama, and I'm putting too much responsibility on myself to try to fix the conflicts in our family that really have nothing to do with me.  Why do I do that?  I still haven't totally figured it out.  I don't know if it's because I'm the oldest, and that's an oldest child trait, or what.  But I need to stop offering to fix everything, because I can't.  I'm only one person DAMMIT (ooh, see, I do say it).
 
Other than that, work is crazy.  I have soooo many transcript orders right now that I have absolutely no right to be sitting here typing this blog entry.  If I could get all these transcripts done, I could pay for all our Christmas presents, plus yours, and yours, and maybe yours, too, but, Hello, my name is Cortney, and I live to procrastinate.  I will put them off until the last possible second and then work like a maniac in an effort to avoid being spanked by the Iowa Supreme Court for untimely filing of transcripts. 
 
Good God, no wonder I'm stressed out.
 
Anyhoodle, I'll try to keep things more updated.  Especially as things progress with Kiblet #2.  I'll get some updated pictures up sometime soon as well.  Hope everyone is doing well.  Have a wonderful holiday and a happy New Year!