Boys

January 27th, 2003 Keyton Alan Opsal entered this world. I had him around noon that day. After 19 hours of labor, Keyton's heart rate indicated fetal distress. My doctor decided it was in the best interest of Keyton, to be born via c-section. After having been in labor all day, and me being completely wiped out, it was decided that Keyton would sleep in the nursery. I sensed, even before the nurse took Keyton to the nursery, that something might be abnormal with Keyton's behavior. However, not having had a baby before, I was reassured by a nurse that Keyton's lethargic state, was normal for a baby, and that his lack of appetite was nothing to be concerned about, after all he had entered this world weighing in at 8 pounds, 6 ounces. Not that long ago (from today) I learned that a nurse whom was on duty that night, was charting and something (or someone) prompted her to go over and check on Keyton. Keyton (according to a nurse) seemed "lifeless" lying in his bassinet. He was pale and unresponsive. Alarmed, she ran to get a doctor who happened to be at the labor and delivery unit having delivered another baby just minutes earlier. The doctor tested Keyton's blood sugar which was dangerously low. Keyton was flown to Fargo, ND to where the closest pediatric endocrinologist practiced. Keyton was diagnosed with hypopituitarism. I remember the drive from Williston to Fargo. I was with my parents, as Jesse was able to accompany Keyton on the flight to Fargo. I cried the whole way, wondering what was wrong with my baby, I wondered if my baby was going to live. I remember seeing my father's face in the rear view mirror ( I sat in the back seat of my parent's car) and I saw tears falling down my father's face, which he wiped away with a tissue, trying his hardest to hide those tears that fell from his eyes that were hidden behind his sunglasses. It was the first and the last time I had seen tears fall down my father's face. I credit that nurse on duty that night with saving my son's life. A few months ago, I called her house, I do not know this women, but I had got her name, she was not home. Maybe, I will try again soon. Keyton takes three pills a day and we give him a shot every night. Keyton has had a shot everyday, since he was two weeks old. I remember giving the shot to him when he was an infant and he would cry. He would look at me like, "Why the hell did you do that?" There have been times, when I have had to wrestle him to the ground to give him his shot, actually there have been many wrestling matches between us. Now, he somewhat understands that he needs the medication to help him grow and thrive. Athletes get in big trouble if they get caught using human growth hormone---Keyton kind of gets a kick out of that.

I have told Owen's story before. Owen also had to fight for his life. I love these two little boys.

Keyton and Owen-Easter-2011

Orange Eyebrows.

Keyton and Hal were puppies in the production of 101 Dalmatians tonight.  They did a wonderful job. Tonight, when I was putting pajamas on Owen, I told Keyton and Halee to go into the bath room and try washing off the white and black paint on their faces. I planned on giving them a bath, but I wanted them to start. After I got Owen dressed, I went to check on them, since the water and wash clothes were not working to get the paint off, they were smearing lotion all over their faces. Immediately, I caught a glimpse of my SELF TANNING lotion bottle sitting on the counter. I picked it up and shouted, "I hope this is not what you are using!" With big eyes (really big eyes) they told me they were in deed using my self tanning lotion to get their make up off. I shouted "Oh no!! Now your faces are going to turn orange---probably for a really long time!" Then they both started to cry. They stood there and cried with orange eyebrows. Poor kids. After I regained my composure, I was able to calm them down. They each took a bath and they still have orange eyebrows. Learning experience. 

My kids take part in a program called Community After School Club (CASC). It is a wonderful program and I have been thrilled with it. They were in the 101 Dalmatians, because CASC worked with our community's local theater company, Youth Education on Stage. Both Keyton and Hal enjoyed being part of the play. CASC has provided many great opportunities for my children while both Jesse and I are working, and for that we are thankful. 

Bill

Less than a week, and I will be done with school...probably forever. I can't wait. Right now, I am taking a class called "Ethics in the Workplace" (boring). I am insanely sick of the word ETHIC. I can't count how many classes I have taken and the focus has been on ethics. I just got done with a power point presentation, where my focus was the Sears, Roebuck & Co. Scandal that took place in 1992. My head hurts, I had to answer questions regarding the unethical behavior that occurred. I still don't understand the assignment, but I got it done--over with, and I don't want to pick apart any scandalous behavior in the near future. A week ago, I had to write a  paper on the Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky "scandal". Bill cheated on Hillary, Hillary basically stood by her man, Billy lied and then had to back track, it was all there, in black and white. But, the questions I had to answer for paper were hard to answer. The elements I had to cover within  the paper, related to President Clinton and the former White House intern were as follows, "Clearly define the issue." What seems to be the basis of the issue?" "Identify ground rules that manifested this situation." "What ethical change, deficiency, or conflict brought it about?" Then I had to actually propose a plan for revising the ethical standards to resolve the issue. UMMMMMMMM??? These papers (for this class) have to be at least 1,050 words or more. While writing about President Clinton's infamous extramarital affair, I did bonk myself in the head, repeatedly. I am just glad I have a semi good imagination and can "come up" with enough BS to earn myself an A. Pat on the back. Pat on the back.

Shrink

Jesse, a friend, and I are going to Fargo tomorrow for the day. I am excited to get out this gigantic city trapped inside a small town. Jess is going to fly his brother's airplane and we will get there fast---well as fast as the cute little air plane will go. I am going shopping---mama needs some new clothes. I also get to see my auntie Jan and my Grammy Cheryl---two people I love so much---WINNING!

I wore high heels to work today, and I fell a few times. One of my co-workers said she watched one of the falls out her office window (I was walking/stumbling to my car in the parking lot).

I have been going to Minot to see a shrink...I can call them that I believe---because they shrink negative feelings or at least they are suppose to. I generally don't feel terrible, I just feel yucky and/or anxious. Sometimes, I think that I should just be my own shrink--like I should just talk to myself in the mirror, because I know what I need to hear, I just need to believe it. Honesty is a virtue. I believe that to be a good person you must be honest. Some people say that you can be too honest, yes, yes you can--I believe this--like you shouldn't tell everyone exactly what you are thinking, because just like honesty is a virtue, so is being polite. It is not polite to tell someone that you think their earrings look like little pieces of doggie doo doo hanging from their ear lobes. I suppose you could, if you KNOW the person extremely well and to the point where this is "deemed" acceptable--but it wouldn't be nice to say to the woman or man standing behind you at the super market, "Hey, you look like you have little pieces of doggie doo doo hanging from your ear lobes." I would not be honest if I said I am not nervous about telling people I am going to therapy. In fact, I have only told four people (yes I kept count) and now if You are reading this, I am telling you too. So, now by this time tomorrow, maybe five or six people will know? I don't know. I like talking to a therapist, I can talk and talk and talk and she gives me advice and doesn't just tell me to get over the "things" I can't. She helps. She helps me understand myself, let's face it I'm complicated. Jesse asked me if I lay down on a couch.. I haven't yet, but I think I will during my next session, plus--I will hold a box of tissues against my tummy. Why not?

Like I have stated before in many of my posts, I am proactive when it comes to my mental health. I know what I need, when I need it. What I don't know is, who I need when I need them.

No Words

The other night, Jess, Keyton, and I were sitting in the living room. Our dog Ruby often feels the need to hump Keyton's leg. Everyone knows what I am talking about, so I can use the word "hump". I honestly don't know what else to call it. Would I call it, bounces her butt up and down while dog's paws grasp leg? I don't think that works. Anyways, it is a dominance thing, it's Ruby's way (yes Ruby is a girl dog that humps legs) of saying, "I own you Keyton, you are my kid." This "situation" has been getting worse recently (Ruby's leg humping). And without thinking about it, when Ruby does this, we say, "NO!! Ruby don't hump!". Now we know we are suppose to censor ourselves around children. We get this. We censor ourselves all the time. Anyway, the other night Keyton jumped up on the couch, and Ruby started to hump his leg. Jesse got mad and said, "No, Ruby, you don't hump!" Pretty soon, we noticed that Keyton was pretending to "hump" the air (remember, Keyton does not know what this means, he had no idea what he is doing) and Jesse told Keyton (horrified) to simply stop, well it was more like,"Keyton Alan, STOP IT!" Keyton then asks,"Why? Why can't I hump dad?". Sometimes, in life there are no words. And this was an instance when Jesse had no words. It wouldn't have been so bad, but Keyton kept (and kept and kept) asking,"Why dad, why can't I hump?" Jesse tactfully changed the subject. Keyton is our serious child. He is mostly funny, when he is not trying to be funny. Keyton has his first baseball game of the season tomorrow. I love watching baseball now that I have a child who plays.

Hal is going to start tennis lessons next week. Hal and I talked about her trying something new this summer. First, I brought up softball. She turned that down--fast. Then, my friend Heidi told me that her daughter was going to try tennis. I asked Hal if she wanted to give tennis a try. She said, "No, I just want to dance and dance and dance!" I pulled up a YouTube video of two girls similar to Hal's age playing tennis. After watching for a second, she said she would give tennis a try, because the girls in the video were wearing skirts. So, she is going to start tennis on Tuesday, in a skirt. I can't wait to see this.

Owen is potty trained! Although, he will only go potty if his little potty chair is in the kitchen. I know, gross. The potty chair is sitting against the wall in the kitchen and when he has to go, he goes. He is even in big boy underwear. I am proud of him.

Summer School

Holy man, I honestly can't believe it's the end of May. Today, I had to go to the school district office and ask if it was too late to register Keyton for summer school. Yes, I got the needed registration form a month ago, yes it has been in my purse for a month, but no, I didn't turn it in. Today, during my lunch break, I went to the district office and I had to explain to the nice woman behind the desk, that basically, I have been too busy to take care of a matter that is in the best interest of my son. I actually, laid my head down on this poor woman's desk and while "laying" there, I preceded to tell her my life story-- as if she were my therapist. This lady was surprisingly sympathetic towards me,and even preceded to tell me about how irresponsible she too, has felt lately. I am not sure if she was trying to make be feel better, however, I left the office feeling better--so if that was in deed what she was doing it worked. I will graduate with my Bachelor's Degree in Nursing on June 16th (unless of course I fail the current class I'm in). I do have a problem though, and that is that I am not actually working as a nurse. It is strange that I have been in school for 10 years ( with some breaks here and there) for nursing, and I am not even working as a nurse. People always ask me, if and when I will go back to nursing. I don't know. I don't know.

The Tooter

Yesterday, was day one of boot camp. We took our measurements and did some tests to see where we stand in terms of how many sit-ups we can do in one minute, how many push-ups, ect. Obviously, I am sore. I am so sore, that I can't even smile. I can't lift my arms above waist level. My mom is doing boot camp with me. She has the same problem as I do when it comes to giggling at inappropriate times. For instance, yesterday when we were doing the sit-up test, my mom was standing on my feet and she was counting how many crunches I was doing. When I was on like number 11, the guy doing sit-ups (like 5 inches away from me) did a little, well actually a big gigantic toot. It was loud----so loud it was hard to pretend to not hear it, and with my giggling problem-- this was a challenge...and I failed. I started laughing. Poor guy. I think my belly got a better work out from laughing at this poor gentleman's air release, than the actual crunches. During the push-up test, our push-ups did not count, unless our chests touched this blue block--I kept thinking during these push-ups that I should have worn my padded bra, so that I wouldn't have had to go down so far.

My job is going fantastic. I am actually loving it. I have met some nice people--- and I did I mention the one hour lunch break? Or the fact that I have my own office with a direct view of a funeral parlor?

We celebrated Keyton's 9th birthday on Friday. We went swimming at a hotel and spent the night. Keyton had a great day--and now has more Legos than anyone should.

On Saturday, Jesse and I left the kids with my parents and went to Bismarck in search of a new vehicle. We found one we liked. I think we would have purchased it-- if the dealership would have offered us more for our mini van. The first month I had my mini van, Owen was in the NICU. One day, after visiting Owen, I was backing out of a parking spot and so was another woman--we hit each other. I got out of the van and this little woman got out her car and said, "Speak no English!" She got back in her car and drove away-- really fast. I don't think my husband believes this story--but it really happened. So basically, since we first owned our van, we have had a crack in the back bumper. We drove to Bismarck to find out that we have to get our van fixed and sell it on our own. However, this was a blessing actually, because when we thought about the vehicle that we were about to purchase, we decided that the light interior would have been a huge pain in the rear. We now decided that we are going to go for black interior. So instead of spending a lot of money on a new set of wheels, I spent (when compared to the car) a little amount of money at the mall.