tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-203769742011-07-28T09:33:15.097-07:00This is home to the rantings of author, Lorna J. Moorhead. In the quirky, sassy voice that has made her popular on health websites and with the women of MS MOMS, Lorna shares her experiences from living with multiple sclerosis to raising 3 kids. Moorhead is author of Coffee in the Cereal and Phone in the Fridge as well as founder of MS MOMS. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.comBlogger281100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-62185852181875427492009-10-15T06:15:00.000-07:002009-10-15T06:15:02.199-07:00

This weekend is the Folsom Renaissance Fair. MS MOMS has a wine booth there. My husband and caretaker, as well as part time manager, got us this spot. Mark supports MS MOMS and is one of our best fund raising directors. I did this show last year, and only crashed on Sunday. Even then, I tried to get back on my feet, or bum as my legs would have it, and work. There is no pay. There is no golden

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-77035914996746345012009-03-24T11:34:00.000-07:002009-03-24T12:46:16.553-07:00

There are moments as a parent with multiple sclerosis that I wonder if I’ll be able to keep up with the kids. I wonder if my inability to think fast or move fast is going to forever alter my parenting. I am sure that if a safety issue arose my adrenaline would kick in and I would be able to perform any feat to protect my children.But I can’t protect the garbage bags. It was 2 minutes I swear. TWO

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-72604267869354748552008-11-12T14:27:00.000-08:002008-11-12T14:32:24.941-08:00

I hate my body. Right now I am getting to the point where I just want to end it all because my body will never keep up with my mind. I’m sitting in my bedroom alone while my husband steam cleans the carpets. It was my job to help with the kids and getting toys out of the way.So first thing this morning when he went to get the steam rental and breakfast, dumb Lorna decides to vacuum. Then when the

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-7288989644437162112008-11-12T14:15:00.001-08:002008-11-12T14:20:06.520-08:00

I have bladder problems. We’re not talking the mother thing where we all cross our legs when we sneeze. Nope I have a bit more of a problem than that. I’m 33 and I buy Poise pads and wear them on a regular basis depending on what I am planning to do that day. According to which doctor you speak with I have a spastic bladder, it squeezes and releases giving me a sense of urgency or stopping my

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-38945601475573024362008-11-12T14:08:00.000-08:002008-11-12T14:12:08.406-08:00

The blog regarding MS and pregnancy was written March 2008. My how things change.I am currently on Betaseron for my MS. I am having a relapse. Actually everything I had to keep me busy, having babies,then caring for an ailing father, has ended and now my MS is saying "hey lookie what we were doing to your brain while you were away!" 25 lesions last count (January 2008)Currently I am struggling

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-25299466239075846312008-11-12T12:05:00.000-08:002008-11-12T12:10:51.905-08:00

A recent question about going forward with pregnancy after a diagnosis of multiple sclerosis got me rolling:I had three babies since my dx of MS. They are all beautiful, spirited (gosh give me strength) and I do not regret aminute of it. (Except when trying to get a shower in. Or maybe a nap.)Anyhow while the first 2 pregnancies had difficulties, I attribute most of it to an incorrect dx of

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-8795440520708516112007-02-22T08:51:00.000-08:002007-02-23T11:59:59.329-08:00

Yesterday morning I sat in the darkness of my bedroom, enjoying a few moments of coffee and quiet before the morning chaos (one 11yr old getting ready for school and two toddlers waking up) broke loose where I could just breathe.This is when I heard the pitter-patter of feet headed in my direction. I peeked an eye open. The door to the bedroom was partially closed, but slowly, as if in some

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-64859827121708672732007-02-18T12:03:00.000-08:002008-12-09T18:43:15.697-08:00

TO MY DARLING HUSBAND:THINGS YOUR CHILDREN (Aidan age 2yrs and Abby 1 yr) DID THIS WEEKEND WHILE YOU WERE AWAYAidan pooped in the potty. Twice. YEAHHH.Aidan stuck his hand in the toilet (after it flushed)Aidan peed on the potty three different times.He missed once.He stuck his hand in it (Ewww!)Abby tried to stick her hand in the toilet while Aidan was sitting on it.Fight ensued.Aidan asked

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-1152286600925978712006-07-07T08:33:00.000-07:002006-08-17T08:31:48.080-07:00

It’s 2pm and Mommy is having her first beer. (Baad Mommy.) Our party does not start until 5pm and I’m hoping to survive until then. It is the 4th of July and my children are at war with me I figure the beer may help me regroup so I don’t end up a blubbering ball of stress by the time my guests arrive.I spent all day July 3rd cleaning my house for our 4th of July party. Grandpa came over and

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-1148772919471759052006-05-27T16:34:00.000-07:002006-05-27T17:39:34.810-07:00

In my house I am the Goddess of shoes. Bearer of canvas, Provider of lace, Locator of socks. (I also have a minor specialty in locating all lost items if I've been properly worshipped. Or if we're late.) Each morning I hear the cry, "Moooom where are my shoes?"How often does it seem that when I find the poor child, he is circling not ten feet from one of his shoes, staring at the wall? And why is

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-1146747696977325042006-05-04T05:52:00.000-07:002006-05-23T16:40:46.100-07:00

So now Aidan was feeling better. The Tylenol had kicked in and he was beginning to want out of the stroller. Now I was panicked. I couldn't let him roam about the tiny waiting room! What should I do? I hefted the diaper bag out form underneath the stroller and began to fish for something amusing. Diapers? No he only likes those when he's taking them off. Wipes? Don't want anyone to see his

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-1146534645791464882006-05-01T18:48:00.000-07:002006-05-09T15:12:40.853-07:00

At around 6:45pm Aidan was triaged and they gave him Tylenol and me some apple juice to. They told me to encourage him to drink. A male nurse came in and asked me to take Aidan's shirt off. He had a rash on his chest. Now I was running the diagnoses through my head: scarlet fever? Measles? Mumps? He was behind on his shots, due to our moving and the subsequent premature birth of his sister. I

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-1146506785533844532006-05-01T10:18:00.000-07:002006-05-01T12:44:51.913-07:00

It was 4pm and Aidan wasn't looking good. He was being treated for an ear infection with antibiotics which had been switched because he seemed to have no response and just got sicker. Yet now he was lying on the floor and poking his forehead with his chubby little fingers. You know something is not right when your 19 month old is lying still on the floor.Mark has left for his weekend job and I

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-1145497473448094272006-04-19T18:43:00.000-07:002006-04-19T18:44:33.463-07:00

I have discovered one of the little downsides about being a family of 1 school aged child, 1 toddler, and 1 baby. They all get sick at the same time. Stephan brings home the bug, he plays with Aidan who gets the bug really bad, and then because we take care of Aidan we almost surely pass it on to Abby.This time it began with Aidan. The doc said it was pinkeye. It was a bad call. I was not at the

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-1141187739425423782006-02-28T20:31:00.000-08:002006-03-06T10:47:08.846-08:00

What is the obsession with toilets? Today is the third time we have had to rescue various toys and books from the toilet in the last month. Yeah, I know bad Mommy, I should have instructed Dad to put locks on the toilets ages ago, but we never thought that Aidan, 17 months today, would have such an obsession with drowning Elmo. Or his blocks. Or the parenting books. But what is the fascination?

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-1140060263723449382006-02-15T19:22:00.000-08:002007-01-31T17:08:36.196-08:00

This is the typical evening at my house. 5pm, colic, and toddler melt-downs."What is going on?" My husband, Mark sticks his head out at the top of the stairs. From my view on our bed consoling a screaming Abigail, 3 months, his head looks like one of those things you whack in a kids game. And honestly, if I was within reach of a big rubber mallet, and his head, I just might smack it. While he

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-1139090230296435272006-02-04T13:02:00.000-08:002006-10-16T11:36:24.483-07:00

I put Abby down for a nap in the Amby bed right away. It was in the corner of our sunken living room which had now become my bedroom. With pride and a bit of gloating I noted to my husband Mark how she slept in it through dinner and another few hours. "I told you it would work." "I'll agree to that when you wake me tomorrow morning at 8am because she slept through the night, like

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-1138758088728348912006-01-31T17:40:00.000-08:002007-02-08T18:29:27.996-08:00

On December 29th, the Amby bed arrived. We came home that evening to the long box on our front porch and rejoiced. At least I did. Mark, after receiving a few more hours of sleep, now thought it was a HUGE mistake. Being a salesman both by trade and by nature, he had begun to feel that we were suckers. (And the Amby bed, our lemon.) So he lugged the 25 lb box into the house and simply left it on

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-1138416845040438852006-01-27T18:51:00.000-08:002006-02-04T12:51:57.170-08:00

Tonight as I was folding laundry and attempting to think up a funny MS article my thoughts turned to Joyce. Technically we were not related. She was the daughter of my mom's first husband's sister and therefore cousin to my 3 half-brothers and sister. The only occasions during which I saw Joyce were those celebrations that centered around one of my siblings, baby showers, bridal showers, etc.

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-1137985965623406642006-01-22T18:50:00.000-08:002006-01-31T17:35:39.753-08:00

It's Christmas day. The Amby bed, and our salvation, will not arrive until Thursday December 29th. I know this because I have been tracking its progress via UPS in a rather obsessed fashion. They haven't moved the trucks in two days. I holler at the computer screen that they could at least pretend that the box has done something in 48 hours rather than sit. Our chance at a sleeping for at least 3

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-1137481456316139022006-01-16T23:02:00.000-08:002006-01-16T23:12:04.040-08:00

"You've heard about co-sleeping?" This from the NICU nurse the day we were sent home with Abby."Yes I have. But I'm not going to do it. It's not safe." The nurse smiled at me. Somehow I'd completely forgotten that 18 months previously I had Aidan sleeping in a make shift nest on our bed in an attempt to get him to sleep better."Well good. Do you know how many babies die every year from

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-1137133494097233732006-01-12T22:17:00.000-08:002006-01-12T22:24:54.106-08:00

Standing inside Raley’s aisle 2 and in a rutAgonizing which baby wipe will grace her toddler’s butt.Her mind is racing madly, she’s afraid that is will crashPraying by the time’s she done; her son won’t have a rashHypo-allergenic nonsense, her thoughts will entertain,Powder soft, baby fresh, quilted or just plainBy the pack or in a stack, with a bear upon the box,Whose addle-brained inventor she

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-1137037319503446662006-01-11T19:33:00.000-08:002006-06-02T05:08:06.326-07:00

It's happening again. I'm standing in the middle of the produce section at Raley's and I need to sneeze. For most people this would not be an emergency, but for me a mother and a woman with multiple sclerosis, this is a disaster. I know that when I sneeze, I'm going to leak urine. Maybe this wouldn't be a concern if I had given in to purchasing some of those incontinence pads they sell but I

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-1136791689176115882006-01-08T23:27:00.000-08:002006-01-09T13:15:09.676-08:00

We'd had Abby home for less than 4 days and a few things very plain. One, I was not making enough breast milk. At best I was pumping 60ml, two ounces, each feeding. This would have been fine, because 60 ml was what Abby had been taking every 3 hours at the NICU, neonatal intensive care unit. But yet again those sly NICU nurses omitted a fact that we discovered our first night Abigail was home.

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-1136617522616920242006-01-06T22:19:00.000-08:002006-01-07T18:41:20.723-08:00

Sleep deprivation does wonders for the economy. Our daughter has a $251 bed. It's made of undyed cotton and is promoted by Dr. Sears. It is supposed to be a miracle cure for babies who won't sleep, preemies, and babies with reflux. So that would be Abby, Abby, and Abby. (Let's not mention that Abby is Amby with a letter changed, which is the name of the bed.)This is how Mark and I decided to join

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-1136511016034167082006-01-05T17:16:00.000-08:002006-12-28T21:18:04.786-08:00

Recently someone took offense at my use of the term "bipolar" in reference to living with two children under the age of 2. They felt that I was making light of a serious diagnosis without any understanding of the disorder. This is not true. My eldest son, has a developmental disability. It is similar to autism, it is also similar to mild retardation. He is 10 yrs old and attends a special school.

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-1136406805532798802006-01-04T11:11:00.000-08:002006-12-28T21:32:53.870-08:00

The other day as I was buying groceries, I happened to strike up a cordial conversation with the bag boy. I wasn't flirting, he was practically a kid, but I was being witty. And charming. At least I thought so. It was one of those good days when you feel good and look good. And then it happened. "Would you like help out ma'am?"Ma'am?! I about choked on my triple shot mocha. When did I become a

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376974.post-1136236633245549252006-01-02T13:13:00.000-08:002006-01-12T21:40:50.363-08:00

I've discovered that simply having children, especially young ones, makes a person feel bipolar. If they're crying, the world is ending and I'm never going to make it, if they're asleep, the world is right again and I know everything will be all right. If they're not crying or asleep I'm either changing a butt or feeding someone. When they nap, do I nap? Hell no. This is the time for laundry,

Lorna J. Moorheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07906005296767504639noreply@blogger.com0