Can ya tell I figured out how to link?

My birthday isn't even until tomorrow, and already I've been flooded with gifts! So far I've received:

A free burrito from Qdoba,
A free burger from Red Robin,
A coupon for $5 off my next service at Elegant Designs Day Spa,
A free patriotic mug from Schaefer's Hobby Shop, and

A big fat stinky Bounced Check Notice from the Bank. Ok, that actually hasn't come yet, but it will. Dammitdammitdammitdammitdammit.

Meanwhile, the kids are keeping me on the direct path to the brink of insanity. Yesterday T-Bone insisted on drinking from a tiny cup the whole day, which meant that I had to fill it about 4 times as often as a regular-sized cup. Stinker.

The Beeb has proven to me that she would NOT be able to handle the responsibility of a pet. Against my better judgment, I bought her a Tamagatchi. She had asked for it and nagged and nagged and whined until I snapped and said "Ya know why I won't buy it for you? Because you won't SHUT UP about it!!" Then I felt remorseful, and the next time we were at the store, we bought it. It was the last one. She turned it on, and the little egg hatched (a boy, which she named Danny). Danny was doing great. She took it to school and managed to not let it be a distraction. She only got it out at recess, and in Tamagatchi years, it got to be 5 years old.

Then on Monday, she asked nonchalantly, "Hey, Mom, have you found Danny?" Uhm, nooo... I said. I didn't know I was supposed to be looking for him. "Oh well, if you see him, let me know. Bye, I'm goin' to Brenda's!" No, I said. You need to find Danny before you go out. She went into full meltdown mode, boneless and sobbing. Fine, I said. Get out. But I'm not looking for him.

We have no idea where Danny is. Nat's sure he's in the house, but she has shown little interest in finding him, especially now that he's probably a little digital skeleton now. Nice, huh? I'm just pissed that this stupid thing that she pitched SUCH a fit about getting is now lost and she doesn't care.

Then there's Pie. You kinda have to know where we started with Pie to appreciate the next little piece of news. When I was 20 weeks pregnant, I took the AFP blood test which indicated some sort of problem. After an emergency ultrasound that lasted for 4 hours, my doctor said "Well, it's a boy. And there is a problem. His bladder isn't emptying as it should." He showed me this massive black spot on the screen and said "That's his bladder." It was as big as Ry's head.

He started telling me about all the worst case scenarios, how there's only about a 50% chance that he'll survive the pregnancy, then after that a 50% chance he'll survive the delivery, and then if he makes it that far he might not live to be 3... and that I didn't HAVE to have this baby. Well, yeah, I did. So the first thing they did was take a huge syringe and remove 100 cc's of fluid from his bladder, through my tummy. That was like the freakiest experience I'd ever had.

Long story short, I went to 3 ultrasounds and non-stress tests each week for the next 20 weeks. Do the math in your head real quick, I'll wait. And I even went to see a specialist in Tampa who told me that the risk of the surgery was too great and that he'd probably have a better chance without it. It was hard to hear that, because it really wasn't the kind of good news that would let me relax. And then I went on bed rest for 2 months before he was born, and then on 2-10-02, he came out, with a big floppy belly that looked kinda like a deflated balloon. He made it out, so we were over the first hurdle.

Then we had to check his bladder, kidneys and lungs, and while the doctors tell me they look a little like something Rube Goldberg might have put together, everything works. But we still had to keep a close eye on his excretory systems. What he has is called Prune Belly Syndrome, which sounds like a joke, but that's literally what it looks like.

It's very rare, only about 1 in 40,000, and it has varying degrees of severity. A lot of Prune Belly kids have to learn to catheterize themselves. We are extremely thankful that Ryan's case is so mild that it really doesn't stop him from doing anything. He doesn't have many tummy muscles, since as he was in utero his bladder pushing on the walls of his tummy weakened them. So he looks a little funny in a swimsuit. But hey, don't we all? Ry calls his big tummy his "squishy bread", and he says that the kids at school ask him to show it to them. Not sure what I think about that.

So yesterday I took him for an ultrasound on his kidneys, and the doctor was very impressed that Ryan is fully potty trained. That's a really big deal. And, Ry, as the doctor was feeling around "down there", said "HEY!! WHAT'RE YA TRYIN' TA DO??" Comedic timing, Ry's got mastered. So the final assessment was that the doctor was "very happy with how everything looks." It's funny because he's so normal now, I sometimes forget what a miracle it is that he's even alive.

And today he walked in with a gleam in his eye and an impish grin on his face, saying "Mom, guess what. I put Rescue Heroes in Nannie's Barbie Airplane. They're goin' on a little trip."

In Knitting News, I'm making a hot pink rolled-brim hat and I've got a few more projects in my idea queue. Yesterday I got some cool yarn in a trade with a fellow Knittyhead. Speaking of Knittyheads, I keep hoping that whoever had me for their Holiday SP is waiting to send me a birthday surprise in which she will finally tell me who she is! Kinda made me sad that I never found out who to thank. If you're reading this, Holiday SP, say hello! You don't even have to buy me stuff. But hell, I'm not stoppin ya. If you're stumped for ideas, gift vouchers are always good!

And it doesn't really fit in anywhere in this post, but I've made Martha's recipe for fudge 3 times this week. The white chocolate with candy canes is addictive. So is the peanut butter.

UPDATE - The mailman brought some lucrative Birthday Cards for me! Thanks to my parents and my friend B, who wrote in her card "Do something for yourself", I just might wander over to Chris' Needle and Craft and load up on Noro!

UPDATE #2 - Luckily, I went to the bank first. My available balance was negative. Ugh. So I can't do something for myself. Fortunately, I'm not used to doing stuff for myself anyway, so I really don't even miss it. I feel guilty when I do stuff for myself.

So I called Hubbypoo and said "Hey, I'm nervous, what do you think we should do?" He said he'd take some stuff (including my birthday presents, sigh) back and I took some stuff back too, so that putting all that back should have helped. But not enough.

It wasn't like I went and bought stupid crap. I didn't even buy yarn. Ok, I bought a little yarn, but the point is, I had to buy tires and then I had to pay for Day Care Registration for next year, in addition to the tuition for this month. So today I applied for a gas card in case the gas light comes on in the next week. It can only be used to buy gas, it's not a Visa or anything, so that's not on my conscience too much.

And I'm the sort who never steps on the scale or balances the checkbook because I don't want to be reminded of the fact that I'm fat and poor, so I hadn't checked it until now. Denial is a terrible thing. I friggin suck at money.