A long rant about something that has no merit whatsoever…because you need a break from reality

The bounty lady…yea…she’s on my hit list. Figuratively, of course.

Not really. I lied. It’s a real list, and she’s on it.

Here’s the deal…everybody else rants about their pet peeves! Why can’t I? (I'm aware that I do this all the time…just roll with me here.) Ok, I can think of all kind of reasons why that may not be the most “Christian” thing to do, but clearly I have issues since I put the very word in quotes. Point made. Still, I don’t think I’ve ever just posted nonsense drivel…EVER…so here ya go. 

Ode to the insult-to-all-the-normal-moms commercial.

Have you seen this Stepford mom on the new Bounty commercial?!? Yes, I’m watching way too much tv these days. It’s Zane’s fault…at least, his prison term’s fault. What’s a girl to do? Cut some slack here peeps. Ok, back to my arch nemesis. So the commercial opens up with a boy around 7-8 yrs., sitting at the kitchen counter. He’s got a very full glass of dark liquid and a straw. Much to the amusement of his younger brother, approx. age 3-4, he’s blowing bubbles with the straw as his drink spews all over the counter, then pouring all over the floor. We're talking a LARGE amount of sticky goodness. As the little dude grins and says, “Again!”, the camera cuts to the mom who’s been observing this whole scene. Then with an angelically sweet smile on her face…and a silent "awwww", she pulls her one square of Bounty off the roll and comes over to deal with the spill. She wipes the entire counter and floor with her itsy bitsy square of miracle cloth…even scrubbing a stuck-on glob…and it never rips. It’s a Christmas miracle. She might as well have been whistling Spoonful of Sugar as she wiped. Then as if that weren’t assaulting to your brain cells enough…and all those other vital organs that wouldn’t buy it…the next camera shot just might do you in. Now we have the younger son blowing in his own drink (because big brother taught him well), spewing large amounts of liquid all over the place while Mother Theresa sickeningly sits right beside him smiling and says, “Again!”

Are you kidding me right now?!? Who’s buying this? If I didn’t need that tv to get me through the duration of Zane’s recovery…ok, and my lifetime…I’d have thrown something at it! Side note: I have fond memories of my dad threatening to kick a hole through the tv innumerable times throughout my childhood. Now I GET it. Although I’m fairly confident he felt the offending parties were far more…well, offensive. BUT he probably hasn’t SEEN THIS COMMERCIAL! Dad, it's the same thing. For real.

Come on already!!! Just once, I’d like to see a commercial where the mom has a kid hanging from every limb as she wipes up their incessant messes with her sock…then she tosses chicken nuggets across the kitchen straight into their mouth because their hands are covered with only-God-knows-what…all while rocking another baby with her foot (yes, it’s the same foot that just wiped up the mess…bonus)…as she calls for an immediate QUIET GAME. They could be advertising anything on the planet…I'd buy it. Anything. Could come with a million dollar price tag. I'm in. THIS is a woman with whom I can identify!!! 

I'm pretty sure I'd feel compelled by righteous indignation to just flatten the Bounty momma…my self-preservation clearly strong-arming my sense of right and wrong. I'm even struggling to feel shame for my lack of shame! Can I get a witness?!? Is there any one out there in the masses of motherhood that LOVES when their toddlers and beyond spew sticky liquid all over their kitchen…because they've got NOTHING BETTER to do than clean it up?!? The biggest problem with all this is that a weaker woman (present company excluded, of course) gets the message, "If you simply have the right PAPER TOWELS, those big messes of your day won't bother you at all!" Fo' snizzle. See…now I'm reverting to good ol' Christian cuss words. Look what you've done to me, Bounty!!! 

Sure, we love these little hoodlums no matter what…in SPITE of all the whacked out messes we find ourselves in the middle of…that's a given. (Well, most days!) But is anybody ENCOURAGING them to throw poop on the wall?!? Seriously, Bounty?!? 

Can you imagine landing the gig for this commercial…WOO HOO…then you show up for the filming and get this script…OH CRUD. I'd like to think that I'd toss the script back to the director and say, "Thanks, but no thanks. I have my dignity and the mental stability of every momma out there to consider." Solidarity, sister. (Because I'm sure all the other moms find their identity in the tv moms…ahem…just messin…not me…really. But still…ok.) 

Now I'd not dare call for a Bounty ban. Who cares what I say anyway…little miss nobody sitting amidst what could easily be classified as a Bounty 911. I'm actually staging a sit-in-the-mess protest. But I don't think I'll ever be able to erase that image of the mom I could never understand. "Aliens" don't market things well. The Aldi or Walmart brands are looking better and better to me these days. Even if I have to use 2 squares…or 20.

Hopefully you needed to feel better about yourself today. You're welcome. 

What's the word?

Insanity. That's the word.

Nothing short of "insanity" could describe the last couple of weeks.

When we went back up to the U for Zane's follow-up appointment, we were given a "good news/bad news" report.

The good news was the incisions on his face were looking good and healing nicely. Dr K even snipped off a good portion of the super glue to clean it up a bit. Looking good, Z! (Say that to him some time…he'll reply, "Feeling good!" We can thank big bro, Bryce, for that one. Of course it will sound like, "Fweewen gud!")

The bad news was the finding of a hole inside his mouth which led the doc to…

...have a seat…

…add another week to the liquid diet. Another week isn't a big deal, you say?!? That makes a full month of drinking every meal and snack. Drinking, I tell you. That means Chris or I are jumping through blender hoops 24/7…because that's how often this dude eats. This might not seem oppressive to all you Suzie Homemakers (actually I'm not sure any of those types would even be reading this blog…but just in case), but to us mortals, it's pretty close to death row. When you find yourself making a scrambled egg smoothie, you want to claw your eyes out, chop off your fingers, and permanently plug your nose. (Wonder why my kids are so dramatic?!? Hmmmm…)

On top of the no eating thing, we remain on full-time warden duty as we attempt to restrain the prisoner. He's regained his strength and is ready to bust out of this joint. Me too, ya little felon…me too.

Adding insult to injury…no pun intended…"Bruce Lee" (again, Bryce) added a fixture to his large cranium…strapped-on glasses. Anyone care to lay bets on the success of said appendage, to date?!? Without dual ears, things get dicey. Just sayin. In order to keep the glasses up, the straps have to be as tight as possible. This tightness causes his left eyelid to stick to the lens so much so that his eye rarely can even open…and because he lives in the Land of Sweat, the glasses are in a perpetual state of fog. He's in constant pain and aggravation in his blurry little world.

INSANITY. Told ya.

Somehow in the midst of all this chaos, little man has gained a pound…which he hadn't done since we brought him home from China. I'm not sure if I mentioned that we almost had to put a feeding tube in during surgery because several doctors were concerned about him losing weight during this recovery time…weight he couldn't stand to lose. We made the call to just roll with it and insert the tube post-surgery, if needed. I'm SO grateful we didn't have to add that to his over-flowing plate of issues, but he's likely to have a meltdown when the chocolate shake machine dries up. We'll deal with that monster when the time comes.

Tomorrow is the big release date for the "no craziness" restriction. BIG relief. Then we have one more week of blender nation and an added 2 more weeks of soft diet. Since he's already sneaking popcorn and almonds, I'm counting on his maker to keep food out of that mouth-hole. If by some chance, some food got in there, and then the hole closed up, they'd have to go in and cut it open and clean it out. And we'd be starting over. For real. Yea. Cross your fingers…and your legs…and your eyes…whatever it takes.

Thanks for praying us through this insanity. We need to still have brain cells when this whole ordeal comes to an end. For now, I'm having another Dr. Pepper. It's my crazy lady medicine. Try it sometime.

With sorrow, you always find joy

I think it's about to time to smile a bit, don't you?!?

Let me tell you…you can't help smile when you're around our crazy little Asian! This past September, we celebrated Zane's 4th birthday. We had a fantastic time with a houseful of little man's favorite people. The Blasic, Davis, Svoboda, Mussellman, and Cowser families were all here to amp up our little spaz…he was thrilled. We ate all his favorite foods…outside, of course. We jumped on the trampoline and on the big bouncy house we'd borrowed. You can imagine his joy since jumping is literally his all-time favorite thing to do! He seemed to get the present-opening down pretty quickly! :)

We had a little moment the day before the party when Zane got upset with me because I wouldn't "go pick up Cha Cha for the party!" Mama was pretty sad. He evidently forgave me and seemed to have an incredible time in spite of it all! We are all so grateful to be able to celebrated such a special day for such a special little person. We are truly blessed to call him "son/brother/nephew/grandson/friend."

So, in case you need to be reminded about the beautiful and amazing reality of adoption, I submit a video for your viewing pleasure. We made this little video to share with our friends and family for Zane's birthday…a party favor, so to speak. But it's such a great reminder of God's incredible compassion for his little ones…and big ones, for that matter…I thought I'd share it with you all.

Enjoy this little glimpse into the life of our new little man. Then check yourself. There may be tears, but they will only serve to frame that big ol' smile that I'm sure you'll see.

ZANE

As always…gotta share some laughs...

"Why, no…dear innocent little bird…this is not, in fact…" 

Are you ready for this?!?

…"this is NOT a sex change operation. Zane will not be a GIRL after this surgery." But thanks for asking. 

Hea. ven. help. us. 

You just can't make this stuff up. Not possible. 

Seriously?!? What kind of parents does this unnamed female child, who's almost 12, think we are?!? Smoly hokes, Batman. You can imagine where the conversation went from there. Trust me…it's nowhere I wanted to go.

The conversations I've been forced to engage in these past 15.5 years since becoming responsible for other humans is staggering. My go-to response ("I'm not prepared to discuss that with you at this time.") has ceased to sufficiently shut them up. What's a girl with significant word/topic issues to do?!? Now you know why I avoid bodily functions/conversations at all cost…to avoid moments like this. Yea. 

At the very least, I get rights to all comedic moments that have been spawned from these horror stories. Because, c'mon…what else do I have?!? 

One of the funniest moments of Zane's surgery was after they gave him the happy juice. Of course, it's supposed to make him calm and sleepy. I told them they'd need to give him a gallon of it, if they were hoping for that result. We saw no slowing down whatsoever as he proceeded to climb onto Chris' head…his head, I tell ya…it's kind of his thing. The shocked doc just stared and said, "Sometimes it has the opposite effect on certain kids." Ya think?!? In prompt order, little man got completely slaphappy and was cackling. He couldn't even hold himself upright and became the youngest drunk the OR has ever seen…well, let's hope, anyway. Regardless, we were all DYING! It was an incredible moment. No joke. We needed that.


Another funny moment…in hindsight only…happened a couple days after the surgery. I was pushing big Z through walmart to grab a couple things when he loudly started complaining, "My PP is KILLING me!" (over and over…oh, and over.) I avoided all eye contact with other customers while pleading with little man to stop saying that. Pleading, I tell ya. This stuff only happens to the girl who calls every body part a "thingy." For reals.

I try to keep a straight face…I try to play it off like none of this stuff bothers me...(I could get an Oscar for some of those times when I engage in a perfectly disgusting and private conversation like I was eating a slice of pizza…no. big. deal…even while I was throwing up in my mouth.) But it doesn't help with the king of Carr Castle is the biggest culprit of putting the queen on the hot seat, if ya catch my drift.

I should take my own advice about not letting the bullies know they get to you!!! Sheesh. 
Sometimes the shock just is too much for me to hide. Good for them…bad for me. :) Things like this happen to me constantly…

"Don't get testy."

"I hate that word…do you have to say that word?"

"Oh...just get ovary it."

Somebody save me.

SO…how'd it go?!?

It took a couple days of chaos to get to the point where I can update you all on Zane's surgeries…appreciate your patience…or hounding, depending on which approach you chose to use. :) You know who you are.

Let's head back to last Tuesday...after 4 hours, Chris and I were ushered into a meeting room to get the 411 from Zane's surgeons. Obviously, I don't expect you to want to hear every detail, but I'll try to skim through the highlights.

The first thing we found out from Dr. K is that, although all went well, and Zane was never in any danger, he is now classified as "difficult to intubate." That's a sticker on the chart for sure. We have lots of stickers on our charts. There are several reasons that this might be so, but the most likely reason is that pesky missing maxilla. Because of its absence, his throat (and all of its parts) distorted when they open his mouth wide to prevent the visual straight line they needed to insert the tubing safely. So they got creative and used a curved scope with a mirror on the end to get the line of sight they needed. This would explain the extra hour of surgery time. This will be well-documented and will now be the top note of the anesthesia docs for all future procedures. The only negative is that we need to avoid any surgeries at smaller surgical centers as they would likely not have the proper equipment needed. Check. 

Other than that little surprise nugget, everything went very well. The "pit" was removed from his cheek, and the right side of the mouth was closed to match the left. He's got some deep internal stitches as well as some surface ones…all of which will dissolve. They cut away  some of the extra tissue inside his mouth and stitched away! In the end, Zane will have a small z-shaped scar (How many kids get their initial tattooed on their face?!? He's just cool like that.) at the corner of this mouth and a small line where the pit used to be. Dr. K reminded us about the torturous 3-week recovery period with, "no running, no jumping, no climbing, no yelling, no eating…" Yea. When I said she didn't have to remind me, she said, "Look, I did my job the past 3 hours…now you have to do yours for the next 3 weeks." Super.

Dr. Cooper (think manhood) gave his update so quickly, I missed it because of a quick bathroom break. Ok then.

It was such an amazing moment to walk back into the waiting room and tell the kids (and "Aunt 'teph") that all was well, and he'd be waking up soon. So very amazing.

We initially took turns seeing Zane as he tried to wake up, but they soon allowed all of us back to see his sweet face together. Shhh…it's frowned upon. Poor little guy couldn't keep those eyes open, but I'm glad he caught a quick glimpse of each of us. As the Carr crew went to gather all of our things and move to big Z's room, I held him in the wheelchair as they prepared to get us out of there as well. He was whimpering in pain so I began to sing to him quietly. No big deal except…I lost it…completely. I was so grateful to be holding his little breathing self in my arms…even grateful that he was crying and in pain…because that meant he was still with us. But all I could do was weep for this moment that never happened with Zoe. I tried to get myself together and sing another song, but Zane quickly brought me back to reality when he sat up and told me to go back to the first song…he didn't like the one I was singing…and just like that, he was back out. Such a little punk…trying to boss me around even from la-la land. But it did make me smile.

Anybody that knows little man knows how "interesting" things got once he was good and awake, but the iPad saved the day/s. The only major issue we had while still in the hospital was the violent hurl Landry and I had the joy of "catching." I don't do puke. It was less than spectacular. 

I was right in assuming that the circ would help keep a good man down…at least for a couple of days. That was seriously a God-send. Between movies, iPad, Nannie, and liquified food, we had it going on…which was good because by the time we got home from the hospital, I was full-blown sick. Just can't win sometimes…ok, ever! :) Debbie Downer? Uh…no. I forgot to mention that I ended up back in my favorite accessory…the big black boot…the day after we got home from the hospital. So just cut me some whining slack here. 

Zane continues to get back to normal…which is making this whole fragile recovery period especially dicey…but it's still great news. We will return to the U on Thursday to check on his progress. Please be praying for little man and all of us crazies that are tasked with restraining him. We are so thankful that the ultimate Healer has this all under control.