Health

Epidural vs. Nonmedicated Childbirth

November 9, 2011 · 28 comments

in Bad Things, Birthdays (everyone else's), Good Things, Health, IMO

Nowadays pregnancy and childbirth are much more stylish than when I started bearing children in the mid-90′s. And it seems there are even more opinions about what’s right and what’s not right. (Of course my opinion is superior.) I feel like I can offer a different viewpoint than most women because I have delivered six babies (well, seven if you count the stillborn. Which I did completely naturally but it was such a different experience we won’t be including it here) and I have done both epidurals and natural (using  Hypnobirth).

–Let me just insert a disclaimer here. This is my opinion. These are my experiences based on my views of life and the universe and reflect my personality. Yes, I know the most important thing is that the baby arrive healthy. Believe me, I know that better than most women. Don’t get all up on your high horse and think I am attacking your childbirth choices, whatever those might be.  This is just me talking. On my blog. So please keep that in mind before you comment.–

Most women have this desire to deliver a baby naturally. Somehow it has become the pinnacle of a woman’s achievements. A woman who can deliver naturally, breastfeed for 16 months and teach her baby a full vocabulary of sigh language is the woman who is a success. If this isn’t you, you’re a loser. At least that the unspoken message out there. I happen to not agree with that at all.

These are the reasons women claim to want an unmedicated birth and what I have to say about them:

1.)You can walk sooner after giving birth. You just had a baby! Where is it you’re going to be walking? There is nowhere to go. Listen, you need to get in bed and stay there as long as possible. Do nothing if you can avoid it. Your life is about to get a million times more difficult. Rest while you can.

2.) I don’t like needles.  Where have you been, you wilting Victorian violet? Needles are part of life. Get over it. Nobody likes them (except heroin addicts maybe).  Newsflash: the epidural is in your back. You won’t see it.  Also, you will eventually be in so much agony that you would welcome a needle in your eyeball if you thought it would make the pain go away.

3.) It is better for the baby. While this has generally been proven not to be true, I can say from personal experience that my drug-free baby was one of my sleepiest. She has since turned into my feistiest child. But all my epidural children are extremely mellow. I’m not saying that their births are the reason why, but is it just a coincidence?

4.) It’s cheaper. Very true. I have had to pay for epidurals out of pocket and it’s a drag. With epidurals costing upwards of $1000 it can be tempting to skip them. With baby #6 I had an epidural and he was born ten minutes later. You can bet I wanted a partial refund. But when you’re in pain you’d pay anything, anything!, for the pain to stop.

5.) I just like the idea of doing things naturally. Well, having a needle dripping chemicals into your spine is certainly not natural. But this seems like a pretty weak reason.

6.) I want to feel superior to women who’ve had epidurals. Nobody ever says this out loud. But I think it’s definitely the #1 reason most women go natural. I know the smugness of being able to say, “oh yeah, I’ve done it without an epidural.”  We mothers are a competitive bunch. Let’s just admit that right now.

7.) I watched some documentaries and read some books and they say that’s what’s best. Oh my gosh, really? Okay, you’re entitled to your opinions, as is Ricki Lake and lots of people who think that painting a nursery with non-organic paint is the most cardinal sin.  Let’s be pragmatic, though, and look at some of the benefits of going medicated.

The benefits of having an epidural:

1.) You are at a party and you’re the star! Having a baby is such a thrill and it’s so fun to call everyone you know, update Facebook and Twitter and take last minute votes on baby names.  It’s so exciting to be at the center of the best party ever. Guess who doesn’t care about any of this? A woman who is having to focus on doing relaxation exercises every three minutes during her contractions (excuse me, “surges”).

2.) You can make sure there is good music playing. Guess who doesn’t care about music? Yep, that woman in labor who doing those hypnosis exercises.

3.) You can make sure you look good for the pictures. Everyone sneers when I say this, like “how can you think about doing your makeup when you’re about to have a baby. You must be really vain.” But let me remind you that there will be about a jillion pictures taken and you will be in most of them. And those pictures will be around for a very long time. If you want to look haggard and terrible, go right ahead. But I prefer to have nicely done hair and makeup. You’ll be forever grateful you took the time. Guess who couldn’t give a crap about looking good? That lady who’s in transition and about to die a thousand deaths!

4.) You remember to take pictures. I wonder who’s husband was a little busy helping his wife deliver a baby? And who forgot to take pictures or even turn on the camcorder? The husband who is constantly telling his wife in a soothing voice to imagine she is walking down a staircase, and with each step she is becoming more and more relaxed . . . . When there’s an epidural happening, your husband gets to take his rightful place as #1 cheerleader and cameraman.

5.) You can savor the moment after birth a little better. I know a lot of women say that the pain disappeared the moment they held their babies, but all I could think after I delivered my baby sans epidural was “Pain. Pain. Pain. Damn. Damn, Shit.”  Holding my baby was the last thing I felt like doing.(and Heaven forbid you just had an episiotomy without anaesthesia. Yowee!).

Obviously I’m very pro-epidural. I had my first four children with epidurals but I felt like by baby #5 (Adelaide) I should be pretty loosey-goosey down there and hopefully the baby would just fall out.  It did not happen that way. And having learned my lesson, I went back to an epidural for #6.

This is how the unmedicated childbirth actually went down: I did my Hypnobirth exercises (I’ll be talking more about Hypnobirth tomorrow because I feel like if you are determined to go naturally this is a pretty good method) and the labor was actually not too bad, especially considering I was being induced.  I bounced on a yoga ball the whole time (about five hours). I am not a water-lover so the idea of getting in a bathtub or shower was completely unappealing.

Everything was pretty swell except I really needed my husband a lot. Husbands are very involved in Hypnobirth. It would have been nice to have him go get me something to eat (oh yeah, I eat during labor. I’m totally crazy like that.) I guess that’s the point of a doula but that doesn’t really appeal to me. The nurses at the hospital were pretty cool and let me do my own thing and barely bothered me. I guess since I’d had enough babies they figured I knew what I was doing.

At some point I started feeling horrendous pain and sure enough I was ready to push. Things quickly spiraled downward and I though I would die/burst into flames/split in half at any second. I only pushed for about three minutes but it felt like three days and by the time I was done I was crying and swearing.  I was so worn out and in pain that my husband caught the baby and I didn’t even want to hold the poor thing.  I couldn’t open my eyes, I was so miserable.  Mister was standing there going, “open you eyes!  It’s a girl!  Look!” I peeked one eye open and went back to my whimpering and cursing.  And then the doctor told me to push out the placenta. WHAT??? I never had to do that with an epidural!  Oh no, with an epidural it somehow magically appears. But if you are going natural you have to find the fortitude and courage to start pushing all over again. Let me tell you now, it’s daunting.

Thankfully I didn’t require any stitches down there. But it still hurt like someone had set my nether-regions on fire. There was no waning epidural residue to cover up the pain. Instead I just kept asking for more and more ice compresses and all the Vicodin in the hospital. Even though my legs were working just fine, my poor privates made it pretty impossible to get out of bed.

I felt like a truck had just run me over. It was about fifteen minutes before I felt strong enough to hold little Adelaide (who at the time was named Clementine). And then I wanted everyone to leave me alone so I could sleep for the next two days. This was quite different than the epidural experiences I’d had where I was the life of the party and thought every single aspect was perfect and delightful and I felt superb afterwards.

Honestly, it was not the beautiful, joyous experience that I’d had with my epidural babies. The pain really, really detracted from it. Maybe it’s because I had something else to compare it to but ultimately when it came time to have another baby, I had to go with the pain-free experience. It’s just so much nicer. Such a pleasant, lovely way to have a baby. And that’s what’s important to me.

Bedrest is my Happy Place

October 20, 2011 · 8 comments

in Bad Things, Feeling Sorry for Myself, Health

I neglected to mention that while I was at Round Top a couple of weeks ago I hurt my foot badly. It turns out that I messed up a bunch of ligaments on the top of my right foot but it felt more like I broke my arch in half. Instead of taking it easy and letting my foot heal I went on a girls trip to New York City with India for five days.   My view of illness/injury is to ignore and downplay it and it will go away. Plus the trip was already booked so what could I do?

Turns out that walking on a hurt foot for 8-10 hours a day for several days in a row is not the best idea. By the time I got home my foot was terribly swollen and I was practically in tears. Mister forced me to go to the doctor who put me on strict rest for ten days; rest with my foot up and ice packs and all that. I don’t want to end up with an injury that flares up for the rest of my life so I am being very obedient.  “You will get so bored!” my friends said.  Well, friends, how wrong you are. This has been the best week of my entire life.  Indolence is my natural state, I’ve decided. Doctor-ordered laziness is my dream come true. There is absolutely no guilt involved.

I have sat on the sofa while Mister does all thing child-related. Luckily he has been able to rearrange his schedule to be around when I need him. People have brought us dinner several times. My children are grateful since Mister already watched them for nearly a week while India and I were gone and they have tired of pizza and cereal (due to a scheduling mix-up we actually got two dinners on Monday. And they were both delightful.)

Here’s what I do: I read books all day. And knit. And look at all sorts of important things on the internet. I am also becoming quite an expert on making tiny food out of polymer clay. With my harried schedule I haven’t been able to squeeze in blogging. I’m sorry, I’ve just been swamped with staring out the window.

I’m particularly excited to not go to the school’s huge Halloween party this weekend. Not only do I get out of volunteering but I’m making India and York chaperone the little kids. I won’t have to stand there and make idle chit-chat with the other moms while Jasper tries for the fifteenth time to win something at the Cake Walk.

Yesiree, this is the life. Unlike having the flu or a nasty cold, I can actually appreciate my down time. If you happen to have a huge cinderblock, you might want to consider dropping it on your foot. Just come up with a really great story about how you were injured.

P.S. Don’t try this if you have babies or toddlers at home. Your rest and relaxation is still a few years down the road. Sorry.

P.P.S. New York was perfect. Went to plays, saw famous things, ate delicious food and shopped at cute stores.

Fruit–the new chocolate cake!

August 18, 2011 · 4 comments

in Dieting, Good Things, Health

Photobucket

I mentioned a while ago that I’ve been trying to be healthier. This is a lot different than my usual “I’m only eating healthy until I’m a size six”. (“Healthy” meaning “not as much food”.) I’ve always avoided fruits and veg. I even resisted guacamole because it’s green and seemed too vegetal. How very foolish I’ve been (especially about the guacamole).

But I know that I need to be healthier. The number 40 dances menacingly around my head and stares me down in the mirror. As do his friends Cancer and Diabetes (OK, I got it! I’m middle aged! Shut up already!) I’ve even changed my focus from losing weight to treating my body well. And apart from a frightening sugar-and-soda-fueled bender I went on last week, I’ve been doing a good job.

This is the thing: eating healthy is not cheap. At least that’s the way it seems at first. I happen to love raspberries more than all other fruit combined. I love their perfumey sweetness and they way they are soft but have a little crunch at the end after all the seeds have gotten stuck in your teeth (that is the best!). But unless you live in Oregon in July, raspberries are expensive. But what’s a girl to do? Eat nothing but putrid Red Delicious apples from Walmart?

And then I started to think about all the pop I am not drinking anymore. That’s a lot of money right there once you factor in the trips to 7-11 and Sonic Happy Hours. If you add in Little Debbies, Haagen-Dasz, and runs to Chuy’s for chips, salsa and Creamy Jalapeño dip–well, maybe buying fruit isn’t going to break the bank like I thought it would.

Eating healthier means eating out less too, since it can be tricky trying to find healthier alternatives. Also, I am notsogood at resisting temptation. Like, simply not able. I am a slave to my appetites. And when there is Chicken Piccata on the menu (which contains several sticks of butter, I’m sure) I cannot say no. Nor can I say no to breadsticks, chips and salsa, and chocolate cake. So it’s better for me just to stay out of restaurants altogether.

And, hey, that’s cheap! Even considering I have to buy more food at the grocery store. Restaurants add up fast. If you’ve been putting off eating healthy because it just seems too expensive, think again. I think you’ll be surprised. If I can do it, anybody can.

Homemade Crackers

July 19, 2011 · 3 comments

in Health, Recipes, Yum

Photobucket

As you might have read earlier, I am trying to eat only whole grains these day. I mean, I eat other things too. I’m not trying to only whole grains. It’s just that if I’m eating something made of grains, it’s got to be whole grains. Got it?

This has put a serious crimp in my baking. I love to bake for my family. Not so much with the cooking. I tend to get in ruts when it comes to cooking. But give me a mixer and an oven and watch out. And since I’m trying to cut waaaaay back on sugar too, my baking has slowed way down. That makes me sad. Baking for those I love gives me an incredibly deep satisfaction.

Out of desperation I ordered the King Arthur Whole Grain Baking book. I trust those folks over at King Arthur. They’ve been messing around with flour for over 200 years. If anyone could give me some ideas on baking healthy food, I figured it was them. And they haven’t let me down.

My family’s favorite recipe from this book so far has been Wheat Thins. You know, those little square crackers. (I never thought of making crackers before, either.) For the first twelve years of my life I thought these were called Wheat Things and I was not interested. But the homemade version of these is out of this world. I have a wheat grinder so I use freshly made flour (I use white wheat because it tastes better) but you can use store-bought white whole wheat flour or regular whole wheat flour as well. This recipe is super duper easy in a food processor. If you don’t have one, well, I guess use a pastry cutter or your fingers. (Have fun with that!)

These aren’t diet food, as you will see by the generous use of butter. But they are healthy as far as I’m concerned. I’d rather be feeding these to my kids than cookies. This recipe makes about 75-85 crackers.

Here’s the recipe:
Wheat Thins
2 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
3 Tbs sugar
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. paprika
8 Tbs. butter (1 stick)
1/2 cup water
1/2 tsp. vanilla
DSC_0384.JPG

If you’ve got a wheat grinder you’ll need to grind some wheat first. Two cups of wheat berries will give you enough for the recipe plus flour for rolling out. Since there are plenty of people who have never seen a wheat grinder, here you go:

DSC_0288.JPG

I like to grind the flour so it’s pretty fine, but not on the finest setting. It takes less than five minutes to grind this much flour. Couldn’t be easier!

DSC_0294.JPG

You’re going to mix up the ingredients in your food processor (or a big bowl if you’re doing it by hand). Put in all the dry ingredients first (flour, sugar, salt, paprika) and mix it all up well. Then slice up the butter (it can be cold) into 8-10 pieces. Add these to the processor.

Photobucket

Process until it looks sandy (a few small chunks are fine)

Photobucket

Mix the water and vanilla together then pour in as the processor is going.

Photobucket

In a few seconds it will form a cohesive ball and that means it’s mixed.

Photobucket

Now comes the rolling out of the crackers. You’ll need a rolling pin and some parchment. You don’t have to have parchment but it will make this a million times easier. If you haven’t got any, liberally sprinkle flour all over the counter. You’ll have to transfer the crackers one at a time to a cookie sheet afterwards. If you’ve got parchment the crackers can be rolled out, cut and baked on one piece without moving anything individually.

Divide your dough into two equal-sized balls. Coat your rolling pin with flour because this dough is sticky (You’ll need to cover it with flour after every couple of passes of the rolling pin.) Roll it out until the dough is pretty thin. The recipe recommends rolling it nearly paper thin which is not only a pain, but we’ve decided unanimously that the crackers taste better a little thicker. Maybe around the thickness of a tortilla.

Once the dough is rolled out, cut the edges with a pizza cutter so the dough is basically a big square shape about 10-12″ across. Then cut the crackers into roughly equal-sized squares.

Photobucket

Sprinkle the crackers lightly with salt. I think sea salt tastes a little better, but use what you have. You don’t need very much.

Slide the entire sheet of parchment onto a cookie sheet and bake at 350º for 6-8 minutes. (Crackers shrink a tiny bit as they bake so don’t worry about them being too close together.) They need to be dark golden brown when they’re done. These aren’t like cookies that are ruined if they are overdone. Don’t take them out too early or they will be soft. Soft crackers are gross.

Photobucket

These crackers cool in just a couple of minutes. They taste especially good with hummus, but if your family is like mine they’ll inhale them instantly all by themselves.

Hi, my name is Jennie and I’m a sugarholic

July 9, 2011 · 15 comments

in Bad Things, Craziness (hildie's), Health, I'm Not So Great, Serious

Photobucket

I’m starting to really appreciate the body I’ve been given. Not in a foxy-sense (although, thank you genetics for long legs!) but in a health-sense. As I get older and more of my friends struggle with bad knees, bad eyesight, diabetes, and cancer, I am really starting to hand it to myself, physically. Yay, body, for not having food allergies! Yay for boobs for just being big and not cancerous! Yay, uterus for doing your job without giving me too much trouble! Yay, hormones for not freaking out and ruining my happy mood most of the time!

But I feel like my body is a time-bomb. It’s only a matter of time until things start getting ugly, literally and figuratively. My diet certainly is not helping all. Again, I credit my body for taking all of the abuse I’ve dished out over the years by eating poorly (Five fruits and vegetables PER DAY?? I thought it was five per month!)

I actually had a spiritual experience several weeks ago where a voice truly spoke to me and told me to stop worrying about losing weight and worry about becoming healthy. Whether it was God or my subconcious, I don’t know. I just know it wasn’t me because I would never tell myself that. I’m rather proud of being able to eat anything without feeling sluggish or terrible. Good ol’ body just takes it in stride and keeps humming along.

So when That Voice spoke I had to listen. I was in denial for a long time. Baking is my favorite! What am I supposed to do now? Sugar isn’t bad for me like it is for other people! Blah, blah, blah.

But I am an addict.

Maybe it’s hereditary like alcoholism (thanks, Mom!). Or not.

I just know sugar can’t be the sun my planet revolves around anymore. So I have given up all soda (even diet), white flour, and most refined sugars (which is, like, everything in the universe that I love). I didn’t want to mention this on my blog for a while–nothing like bombing in front of everyone–but it’s been almost two months now and I think the change to a healthier diet is becoming permanent.

I also didn’t want to be one of those people who snidely announces to anyone nearby they don’t eat [fill in the blank]. As if avoiding certain foods like meat or gluten or non-organic produce is somehow more noble. I was at Whole Foods last week and I wanted to scream, “I’m not like you people! I eat Pringles and Nutter Butters!” But I hung my head in shame, realizing that I am now a Healthy Eater too.

The question I get most often is, “Don’t you feel so much better now?” No, actually I do not. I felt perfectly healthy before so there is really no difference. If anything, I get more tired since I can’t buoy myself with caffeine every afternoon when I hit the wall at 3:30.

I haven’t lost much weight (hey, nuts and avacados are healthy!) but I am very proud of myself for doing something I’ve never had the courage to before.* I know that I’m treating my body well finally, and as I get older it’s going to matter and more.

*I do let myself have two cheats per week. I know that I will totally flake out and go on a binge if I don’t get to splurge at all.

Fun in the afternoon

September 24, 2010 · 4 comments

in Bad Things, Health

You might think once your kids are all at school that some afternoon delight might be in order. But there’s a big difference between fun during the day and fun at night: at night you don’t have to worry about the school nurse calling to tell you that your daughter has fallen on the playground and broken her arm.

Thanks a lot, Arabella!

Utah makes me sick!

August 25, 2010 · 8 comments

in Bad Things, Feeling Sorry for Myself, Health

Literally.

I’m going on my third week of pneumonia which I caught in Utah at the beginning of my trip. The combination of polluted, dirty air (and I thought Inversion only happened in the winter!), the climate as dry as a bone (my eyes felt like shriveled raisins the whole time. I was so happy to get back to the Texas humidity. It’s like breathing velvet down here), and the altitude (I’d like to keep it under 1000 feet from now on, please) just did me in.

As you can imagine I was a dandy houseguest in my travels. I laid around watching TV while my children ran wild. We did do a few fun things, but I had to load up on ibuprofen first. And I was super fun at the family reunion. Being at 7000 feet did not make my body happy. I shuffled along, coughing like an 80-year-old smoker the entire time.

This is what surprises me about pneumonia: I always imagined it would be like drowning; lungs full of liquid, coughing up all sorts of yucky stuff, that sort of thing. But for me it’s more like my lungs have been lined with glue. They feel very sticky, and make all sorts of bizarre creaky noises. My favorite is when it sounds like a zipper every time I breathe in or out. My lungs are noisy enough at times to wake me up. Icky. My cough is mostly dry and hacky, except every once in a while when it sounds like I’m about to die. And then there is the sensation of someone standing on my chest. It makes me panic a little, not being able to take a deep breath. I have an inhaler that helps a little bit, but mostly it doesn’t.

And then there is the fever that won’t die. Even with several advil and tylenol I haven’t been able to knock it below 101 today. Fevers suck. They make my skin hurt and my bones hurt. They make me do crazy things like take long walks outside in the 102º weather because I’m just so cold.

This morning I started my third course of antibiotics. Hopefully these will work. They’d better. Because they cost $30 per pill. $30 per pill. Moving along . . . .

I’m getting mighty sick of sleeping completely upright (not just elevated; upright. It’s like sleeping on a plane every night.) Sometimes I try to flip over on my stomach (oh, how I love sleeping on my stomach!) but then cough for twenty minutes until I throw up in my mouth. So I pile up my wall of pillows and hope my concoction of codeine cough syrup and Advil PM can keep me asleep for at least a few hours.

Fun times indeed. This much I know: I will never take breathing for granted again (or sleeping on my stomach.)

P.S.

Thanks goodness for a mother who now lives nearby and can take care of her sickly daughter.

Ten Days

September 29, 2009 · 9 comments

in candy, Health, Why Hildie's tired


Well, folks, it’s been ten days since I had a Mtn. Dew (or any soda, for that matter). This is quite possibly the longest stretch I’ve ever gone without my high fructose lover (even nursing–I’d just drink them before 3 pm so as not to keep my babies up late. See how thoughtful I am?)

Weirdly, I’m not missing it that much. Mostly because I’ve given up all sugar so I’m much more obsessed with things like candy and ice cream.

I did pass my favorite vending machine yesterday (Randalls grocery store–$1 for a 20 oz. bottle! Bargain!) and was a bit misty-eyed. I’m trying to hold out til Halloween before I have another one. On that day–between the candy and the Mtn. Dew–you can expect a sugar high unparalleled in my 38 years.

Looking forward to it.

Chappy

March 11, 2009 · 2 comments

in Good Things, Health, Hildie Likes, Skin

Target never ceases to wow me.  Last night as York and I were shopping for supplies for his art class I came across the new skincare line from Boots.  Not only is it so darling, but the lip stuff is actually called Lip Salve.  This is what I have always called Chapstick, Carmex, et al.  I don’t know why. I think I just like the word “salve”.  

I feel so validated.

I will not, however, be buying any Boots products, cute as they may be.  You know I make my own line of skincare, so why would I?

Co-pay? What’s that?

February 17, 2009 · 13 comments

in Health, Kids

I had to take Jasper to the doctor yesterday. He was rubbing his ear all morning and moaning “ooouuuuch”. It turns out his right ear is so infected that it’s almost hemorraging. I don’t exactly know what that means, but I envision an explsion of goo and pus flying out of his ear like something you’d see on a cartoon.

I don’t recall the last time I had to take a child to the doctor.*  My kids are remarkably hardy. Nobody gets sick. We have the sniffles from time to time, but that’s about it. I know I’m completely jinxing myself, but we have missed out on that throw-uppy bug that’s gone around the last few years.

Do you want to know why we stay so healthy and well? It’s possible that they inherited their sturdy constitutions from me. But more likely it’s because we don’t wash our hands. I’m a stickler about washing after going to the bathroom, because that can be disgusting. But as far as washing before dinner? Eh, if they’ve been playing outside all day sometimes I’ll make them do it. I don’t really care. Wash, don’t wash, whatever.  I simply think all this hand-washing is type-A nonsense. I know what doctors say: Wash, wash, wash. But I’m not a germ freak. That’s not to say that I don’t believe in germs or illness. I have bookmarked the site for Pandemic updates. Really. (Check it out here.) 

I find myself really annoyed by germaphobes.  I have one friend in particular who will not let her husband or children into the house until they’ve scrubbed down.   And yet her children get influenza each year (Not the barfy kind–the kind that is reported to the county services); and have strep regularly; and miss school almost once a week because they are so sickly. My mother-in-law is also a sickly person who would have her blood replaced with Purell if she could.

I have to look at the evidence, folks.  And the evidence in front of my face says that my kids are never sick.  With six children, we are constantly bombarded with germs, yet we don’t catch anything. The kids have obviously developed some amazing germ resistance. Hopefully they aren’t like Typhoid Mary or those explorers who came to America and decimated the natives with smallpox.   If that’s how it works, and your kids happen to be around my kids, then I guess you’ll just have to make yours, ahem, wash their hands. Or not.

*for something illness-related. We’ve had immunizations, duh. And Ada fell on the tile floor during the summer and required a blob of super-glue on her chin. But we haven’t been sick since we moved to Texas.

Next Entries →