Then over to CB's parade
to see one pissed off witch.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
A Day Of Halloween Parades
The day began with Pink's Kindergarten parade...
Then over to CB's parade
to see one pissed off witch.
Then over to CB's parade
to see one pissed off witch.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Nominate A "Care Hero" on Care.com
Know An Amazing Caregiver? Nominate Him or Her for The Care Hero Contest Sponsored By Care.com. They could win $500.00 in prizes and YOU the nominee could win $100.00 too!
Care.com wants to reward an exceptional caregiver who is also a Care Hero! Beginning October 29th, you’ll be able to nominate a caregiver who deserves to be called a Care Hero by visiting www.facebook.com/caredotcom and nominating them. Share their photo and a short story of why you think they should win, then make sure to get your friends involved — the comments on your nominee’s photo will help them win the contest!
At the end of November, Care.com will choose a Grand Prize winner to be the 2010 Care.com Care Hero. The winning caregiver will receive a $500 "Care Package" including hotel stay, tickets to a show, and dinner courtesy of Care.com!. As a thank you, they're giving the nominator of the winning Care Hero a $100 restaurant gift certificate as well. Plus, they will choose weekly caregiver winners who will each receive a $100 restaurant gift certificate. If you nominated a weekly winner, you will receive a free, 3-month Premium Membership to Care.com.
Care.com provides a trusted place for families and caregivers (babysitters, nannies, special needs caregivers, tutors, senior caregivers) to easily connect and get advice. The service enables families to find and select the best care possible based on detailed profiles, background checks, and references for hundreds of thousands of caregivers who are seeking to share their services.
So come to Facebook, share a photo of your Care Hero, and tell us what they've done! And be sure to thank them during National Family Caregiver Month!
Care.com wants to reward an exceptional caregiver who is also a Care Hero! Beginning October 29th, you’ll be able to nominate a caregiver who deserves to be called a Care Hero by visiting www.facebook.com/caredotcom and nominating them. Share their photo and a short story of why you think they should win, then make sure to get your friends involved — the comments on your nominee’s photo will help them win the contest!
At the end of November, Care.com will choose a Grand Prize winner to be the 2010 Care.com Care Hero. The winning caregiver will receive a $500 "Care Package" including hotel stay, tickets to a show, and dinner courtesy of Care.com!. As a thank you, they're giving the nominator of the winning Care Hero a $100 restaurant gift certificate as well. Plus, they will choose weekly caregiver winners who will each receive a $100 restaurant gift certificate. If you nominated a weekly winner, you will receive a free, 3-month Premium Membership to Care.com.
Care.com provides a trusted place for families and caregivers (babysitters, nannies, special needs caregivers, tutors, senior caregivers) to easily connect and get advice. The service enables families to find and select the best care possible based on detailed profiles, background checks, and references for hundreds of thousands of caregivers who are seeking to share their services.
So come to Facebook, share a photo of your Care Hero, and tell us what they've done! And be sure to thank them during National Family Caregiver Month!
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
I'm a Spicy Pickle!
I wanted to thank Corrie at Just Because My Pickle Talks Doesn't Make Me And Idiot. She created some adorable awards (she's so creative!) and I received this awesome one for my post "Goody Bag Guilt."
Corrie is a passionate, fun, creative blogger and mother of 3. Her middle child is diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome. I love stopping by her blog and you will too! Go over and tell her I said "hi."
Please, all of you in my sidebar and those whom I read, grab a Spicy Pickle Award - I nominate ALL of you! Pass it on and make sure to show some link luv to Corrie and her Talking Pickle!
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
The Invisible Disabilities: Are They Treated Fairly?
Or, Why I Hate The Beeachay At Crappy Lab Corp
________________________________________________________________________________
"You can just wait like everyone else" a sour faced receptionist shot at me. "You mothers of Autistic kids always come in here expecting special treatment when your children are just as capable of waiting in line as any other child is."
No. She. Didn't. She didn't just go there.
These words were spoken to me 5 years ago but still feel like a fresh wound every time I go back to get CB's blood drawn. This is the story, told as if it were yesterday because sometimes that's how it feels...
It's 7:05 am at a Lab Corp facility where I need to get CB's blood drawn to check her med levels. The tiny, sterile waiting area is wall to wall with people, spilling out into the halls. The wait is likely close to an hour. CB, very severe on the autistic spectrum, does not handle crowds, cramped spaces, uncertainty, waiting, and other general realities of life very well. As she is utterly non-verbal, she has no other way to communicate her discomfort other than behavioral meltdown. I'm completely in a panic and feel the hundred eyes in the waiting room on me and my "different" child. People shift nervously in their seats as my daughter jumps, squeals, moans, drools, hits, and otherwise does not act like a typical citizen in a typical waiting room on a typical day. I feel like I have to apologize for being out in public. For corrupting everyone's "normal" lives with the abnormality of our presence.
When I realize the length of the wait, the conditions of the waiting area, and CB's difficulty with such sensory overload, I start to deliberate whether or not I should ask the staff people if any accommodations can be made for my daughter. Flushed, feeling conspicuous, fragile, and anxious I go to the front desk seeking assistance, empathy, and yes, I suppose a little special treatment. What I get is the quote from "Sally" with which I opened this post. "You can just wait like everyone else. You mothers of Autistic kids always come in here expecting special treatment when your children are just as capable of waiting in line as any other child is."
She can wait like any other child? No, you compassionless, ignorant shrew, that is the problem! She CANNOT wait like any other child. If she COULD I wouldn't be standing here in front of you humbling myself asking you for assistance! She is NOT any other child. She is not in control of herself. Her AUTISM is in control. Her brain is structurally different. She has the diagnoses of: chronic static encephalopathy, generalized seizure disorder, severe to profound mental retardation, and Autistic Disorder. She is disabled. She looks relatively "normal," but she is disabled. She cannot dress herself, bathe herself, brush her own teeth, open a container, buckle or unbuckle her seatbelt, manage her menses, cut up her food, talk... I mean, she eats her own sh*t for God's sake! DIS. AB. LED. She cannot "wait" in this overcrowded, fluorescently lit waiting room without making everyone's life a living hell. She is not spoiled. She is not poorly disciplined. She has Autism and cognitive impairments. Ever hear of it?
The audacity of me to request a little special attention! I am so sorry. How dare I cash in on a no-wait pass at Disney or a little respite care through Division of Developmental Disabilities. What a heinous, self-serving mother I am! And, to expect a little help at a facility that provides patient care? I am so used to getting my ass kissed because of my child's special needs that it certainly makes living with Autism so rewarding! Boy I'm making out like a bandit, alright. I get to cut in line at Lab Corp, which certainly counterbalances the fact that I also get to clean up her almost daily fecal smears, worry about her running into traffic, spend about a billion dollars to take care of her the rest of her life, and manage every aspect of her self care. I get to stress about the severe seizure disorder that has landed her in the hospital numerous times starting at 4 months of age. A seizure disorder that could realistically be the death of her. Please forgive me for my selfish request. I am not worthy. She is not worthy. She's only autistic after all. She'll manage. We'll sit and wait like everyone else, because after all, we ARE like everyone else, aren't we?!?
This whole thing made me wonder if this type of attitude was reserved for the disabilities that are less physical and perhaps less easily understood? The Invisible Disabilities. Had CB been in a wheelchair, hooked up on monitors, missing a limb or blind, would I have encountered the same resistance? I'm not sure. Maybe this particular woman was such a Beeeachay that I would have. But it seems to me, anecdotally at least, that when a child has ADHD, Conduct Disorder, Intermittent Explosive Disorder, Autistic Spectrum Disorder (especially "high functioning), Tourette's, or a psychiatric diagnosis sometimes people interpret the behavior as "within that child's (or parent's) control." At times, the less disabled you LOOK, the less accommodations and understanding you are given. At TIMES. Certainly, this is the exception. But when it DOES happen, it shatters you.
Clearly, in this case, the extent of CB's disabilites were "invisible" to Sally and therefore my daughter was deemed undeserving of any accommodations. If everyone else has to wait an hour, CB can wait an hour too. Now, I'm certainly not against CB being treated "like everyone else." In fact, that's my lifelong goal. BUT, I guess there is a caveat. Give her the same opportunites and value her quality of life the same as "everyone else." Treat her with the respect and dignity "everyone else" deserves. But, when she needs accommodations, give her a break! The kid didn't ask to be born this way. Can you throw us a bone?
So, what's next Miss Sally? Will a person confined to a wheelchair have the audacity to ask for a ramp? Will a blind person have the presumption to ask for signs in Braille or permission to bring their seeing eye dog into the waiting room? Last time I checked, accommodating disabilities was the law. Last time I checked, Autism and cognitive impairments were disabilities.
Who knew ignorance could be such a lethal weapon? Wielded like a dagger, it aims for the heart. Slashing at a wound as invisible as Autism itself. A wound that never stops hemorrhaging.
* This was originally posted on Autism Sucks
________________________________________________________________________________
"You can just wait like everyone else" a sour faced receptionist shot at me. "You mothers of Autistic kids always come in here expecting special treatment when your children are just as capable of waiting in line as any other child is."
No. She. Didn't. She didn't just go there.
These words were spoken to me 5 years ago but still feel like a fresh wound every time I go back to get CB's blood drawn. This is the story, told as if it were yesterday because sometimes that's how it feels...
It's 7:05 am at a Lab Corp facility where I need to get CB's blood drawn to check her med levels. The tiny, sterile waiting area is wall to wall with people, spilling out into the halls. The wait is likely close to an hour. CB, very severe on the autistic spectrum, does not handle crowds, cramped spaces, uncertainty, waiting, and other general realities of life very well. As she is utterly non-verbal, she has no other way to communicate her discomfort other than behavioral meltdown. I'm completely in a panic and feel the hundred eyes in the waiting room on me and my "different" child. People shift nervously in their seats as my daughter jumps, squeals, moans, drools, hits, and otherwise does not act like a typical citizen in a typical waiting room on a typical day. I feel like I have to apologize for being out in public. For corrupting everyone's "normal" lives with the abnormality of our presence.
When I realize the length of the wait, the conditions of the waiting area, and CB's difficulty with such sensory overload, I start to deliberate whether or not I should ask the staff people if any accommodations can be made for my daughter. Flushed, feeling conspicuous, fragile, and anxious I go to the front desk seeking assistance, empathy, and yes, I suppose a little special treatment. What I get is the quote from "Sally" with which I opened this post. "You can just wait like everyone else. You mothers of Autistic kids always come in here expecting special treatment when your children are just as capable of waiting in line as any other child is."
She can wait like any other child? No, you compassionless, ignorant shrew, that is the problem! She CANNOT wait like any other child. If she COULD I wouldn't be standing here in front of you humbling myself asking you for assistance! She is NOT any other child. She is not in control of herself. Her AUTISM is in control. Her brain is structurally different. She has the diagnoses of: chronic static encephalopathy, generalized seizure disorder, severe to profound mental retardation, and Autistic Disorder. She is disabled. She looks relatively "normal," but she is disabled. She cannot dress herself, bathe herself, brush her own teeth, open a container, buckle or unbuckle her seatbelt, manage her menses, cut up her food, talk... I mean, she eats her own sh*t for God's sake! DIS. AB. LED. She cannot "wait" in this overcrowded, fluorescently lit waiting room without making everyone's life a living hell. She is not spoiled. She is not poorly disciplined. She has Autism and cognitive impairments. Ever hear of it?
The audacity of me to request a little special attention! I am so sorry. How dare I cash in on a no-wait pass at Disney or a little respite care through Division of Developmental Disabilities. What a heinous, self-serving mother I am! And, to expect a little help at a facility that provides patient care? I am so used to getting my ass kissed because of my child's special needs that it certainly makes living with Autism so rewarding! Boy I'm making out like a bandit, alright. I get to cut in line at Lab Corp, which certainly counterbalances the fact that I also get to clean up her almost daily fecal smears, worry about her running into traffic, spend about a billion dollars to take care of her the rest of her life, and manage every aspect of her self care. I get to stress about the severe seizure disorder that has landed her in the hospital numerous times starting at 4 months of age. A seizure disorder that could realistically be the death of her. Please forgive me for my selfish request. I am not worthy. She is not worthy. She's only autistic after all. She'll manage. We'll sit and wait like everyone else, because after all, we ARE like everyone else, aren't we?!?
This whole thing made me wonder if this type of attitude was reserved for the disabilities that are less physical and perhaps less easily understood? The Invisible Disabilities. Had CB been in a wheelchair, hooked up on monitors, missing a limb or blind, would I have encountered the same resistance? I'm not sure. Maybe this particular woman was such a Beeeachay that I would have. But it seems to me, anecdotally at least, that when a child has ADHD, Conduct Disorder, Intermittent Explosive Disorder, Autistic Spectrum Disorder (especially "high functioning), Tourette's, or a psychiatric diagnosis sometimes people interpret the behavior as "within that child's (or parent's) control." At times, the less disabled you LOOK, the less accommodations and understanding you are given. At TIMES. Certainly, this is the exception. But when it DOES happen, it shatters you.
Clearly, in this case, the extent of CB's disabilites were "invisible" to Sally and therefore my daughter was deemed undeserving of any accommodations. If everyone else has to wait an hour, CB can wait an hour too. Now, I'm certainly not against CB being treated "like everyone else." In fact, that's my lifelong goal. BUT, I guess there is a caveat. Give her the same opportunites and value her quality of life the same as "everyone else." Treat her with the respect and dignity "everyone else" deserves. But, when she needs accommodations, give her a break! The kid didn't ask to be born this way. Can you throw us a bone?
So, what's next Miss Sally? Will a person confined to a wheelchair have the audacity to ask for a ramp? Will a blind person have the presumption to ask for signs in Braille or permission to bring their seeing eye dog into the waiting room? Last time I checked, accommodating disabilities was the law. Last time I checked, Autism and cognitive impairments were disabilities.
Who knew ignorance could be such a lethal weapon? Wielded like a dagger, it aims for the heart. Slashing at a wound as invisible as Autism itself. A wound that never stops hemorrhaging.
* This was originally posted on Autism Sucks
Monday, October 26, 2009
Weekend Wrap Up
This weekend was all about fusion. It was a weekend of running around, work, lack of sleep, and new house purchases and decisions. But, it was also a weekend of decadence.
Am I the best Mom ever making these pancakes? SOMEBODY thinks so!
And I got a night out on the town with my sister. We went to Steven Star's pod in Philly.
I cannot express enough how awesome this food was! Asian fusion. Swanky environment -uber modern, sushi conveyor belt, and even if you don't have to take a piss, go to the bathrooms because they are so freakin' cool! The whole place reminds me of a fusion between Woody Allen's Sleeper and the Jetson's.
This was the best desserts I've ever had. Crispy spring roll wrapper lightly fried to a crunch and stuffed with peanut butter and fluff (yes, a fluffernutter, that's all gooey and warm and melty) with a side of dark chocolate for dipping.
How's that for fusion? Random, yes. But dude, it works.
Am I the best Mom ever making these pancakes? SOMEBODY thinks so!
And I got a night out on the town with my sister. We went to Steven Star's pod in Philly.
I cannot express enough how awesome this food was! Asian fusion. Swanky environment -uber modern, sushi conveyor belt, and even if you don't have to take a piss, go to the bathrooms because they are so freakin' cool! The whole place reminds me of a fusion between Woody Allen's Sleeper and the Jetson's. This was the best desserts I've ever had. Crispy spring roll wrapper lightly fried to a crunch and stuffed with peanut butter and fluff (yes, a fluffernutter, that's all gooey and warm and melty) with a side of dark chocolate for dipping.
How's that for fusion? Random, yes. But dude, it works.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Saturday, October 24, 2009
More Awards!!! Whooo Hooooo!!!
I was recently awarded 2 blog awards: One Lovely Blog Award was given to me by Erika over at The Flight Of Our Hummingbird. The Over The Top Award was also given to me by BOTH Erika AND BJ from the sensational blog For What It's Worth... Or Not.
First, I want to thank Erika whose blog touches my heart and soul with its sincerity, strength, vulnerability, and beautiful writing. I also want to thank BJ whose blog is a new find for me. It is a breath of fresh air, beautiful to the eye, and full of humor, fun, and real life. Thank you guys both for being my supportive readers and such wonderful, talented bloggers!
Now, I'm passing both of these awards on to these well-deserving AWESOME bloggers and encourage you all to hop over and visit each one! You'll keep coming back for more, I promise!
Away We Go
Just Because My Pickle Talks Doesn't Make Me An Idiot
The Phamily Blog
The Bon Bon Gazette
Becoming a Work From Home Mom: A Journey To Freedom
To those who have been given these 2 awards... Write a post and proudly display your awards! If you'd like, you can pass on the award to other bloggers you know. In your post, copy this meme below (or whatever the heck its called) and answer the following questions, for no reason whatsoever. Hey, I don't make this stuff up, I just follow the directions:
1. Where is your cell phone? good question
2. Your hair? dirty, uncombed and in desperate need of color
3. Your mother? a trip
4. Your father? a surgeon
5. Your favorite food? sushi, seafood, ice cream, and anything chocolate.
6. Your dream last night? I forget now
7. Your favorite drink? diet pepsi, frozen pina coladas, hot caramel apple cider
8. Your dream/goal? survive the day. Oh, and get a book published. In that order.
9. What room are you in? CB's room because thats the only place for the computer
10. Your hobby? writing/blogging
11. Your fear? child abduction, no afterlife, and that Bush will get back in office
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? with my husband and children
13. Where were you last night? home
14. Something that you aren't? sane
15. Muffins? sure, why not?
16. Wish list item? CB out of diapers
17. Where did you grow up? Suburbs of Philly
18. Last thing you did? cooked dinner
19. What are you wearing? A wetsuit with a pink tutu. WTH?
20. Your TV? off
21. Your pets? none
22. Friends? my support system
23. Your life? pretty bleepin' GREAT!
24. Your mood? improving
25. Missing someone? nope
26. Vehicle? smashed up
27. Something you’re not wearing? a coat? this is so dumb
28. Your favorite store? ummmm, i dont shop for me anymore
29. Your favorite color? sage green
30. When was the last time you laughed? yesterday
31. Last time you cried? dont remember... but probably reading Rhema's Hope because I always cry when I read it.
32. Your best friend? my husband
33. One place that I go to over and over? Insanityville? Oh, and the grocery store
34. One person who emails me regularly? more than one
35. Favorite place to eat? ummmmm.... don't go out to eat either
Wow. I'm such a super exciting person I just can't stand it!
Friday, October 23, 2009
Plant A Seed And Watch It Grow
When we were at the playground, I showed the girls an interesting seed pod from a tree. Inside, were tiny black seeds. The girls eagerly "planted" them in the ground before we left. As I packed up our things and we began walking back to the car, Tink ran back over to where she planted her seed and hunched down over it, looking intensely. I called out to her "Tink! C'mon! What are you doing over there?"
She stood up and started running back shouting proudly:
"I needed to water my seed... so I spit on it!"
Ummmm.... creative problem solving?
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Blogging For A Cause: Support "Dress For Success" By Making Every Cup Count
Dress For Success is an international non-profit organization helping disadvantaged women across the globe find jobs and stay employed. Their mission is "to promote the economic independence of disadvantaged women by providing professional attire, a network of support, and the career development tools to help women thrive in work and life." Together, Nestlé COFFEE-MATE® and Dress for Success are sharing a new initiative geared toward providing encouragement to women seeking jobs while also supplying some helpful money-saving tips to all of us in these difficult economic times.
Nestlé COFFEE-MATE® has committed to donating $50,000 to Dress for Success. But with a little help from you, up to $150,000 can be raised!
What Can You Do To Help? Simply send a Cup of Confidence note to help inspire a Dress for Success client. COFFEE-MATE® will then donate fifty cents to Dress for Success for every "cup of confidence" note sent. Your note will actually be given to a woman who participates in the Dress for Success program for inspiration on how to thrive in work and in life. You can donate an additional $.50 for sharing the program on your social media pages such as Facebook by posting the badge found at www.coffee-mate.com/cup!
If you visit the “chat for change section” on Coffee-Mate.com you’ll not only receive money saving tips but also help others succeed and prosper. It's such an easy way to give and help. So please, send a Cup of Confidence note, calculate your own savings, and make every cup count!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Vanishing Acts
When I was pregnant with Rella and went in for our first ultrasound, we got a big surprise... there was a twin. This twin, whose existence was unknown to us until that very moment, had only been alive for about 8 weeks. So, in the moment I found out I was carrying twins I was also finding out I had lost one. An odd feeling, to say the least. Certainly, this was not at ALL the same as losing a child... we went into the ultrasound believing I was carrying one healthy baby and I left knowing I was carrying one healthy baby. I would never ever describe this as a loss of a child or a miscarriage... yet to my embarrassment, I had to go into the hospital's hallway bathroom and blurt out a short, chest-heaving cry.
It was a phenomenon called a "Vanishing Twin." Apparently, rather common yet generally people don't even know they HAD the twin growing in their belly unless they had a super early ultrasound. Interestingly, it seems to be most common when you are of "Advanced Maternal Age" *eye roll* which I was for my last 3 pregnancies. In the "old" days, you'd NEVER know without the benefit of our current technology. Now, they can tell you and I'm not sure it's even worth it. Somethings may be better left to ignorance. The thing with the Vanishing Twin is that the body re-absorbs the embryo over time until it disappears. Vanishes into the body. By the time of the last trimester, there is no physical trace that a potential life was here then gone.
I remember after I got home that night, I was backtracking to the time the doctor said the twin stopped showing signs of life. I guess, technically the day I "miscarried" her. I immediately knew the day it must have happened. I had worked out at my gym, as I did throughout the whole pregnancy. One evening I had felt particularly crampy to the point I had to lay down in bed. I even complained about it to my husband... something very unusual for me because I have very nice pregnancies and never complain about being pregnant OR lay down before 9:00 pm. I thought about how if I just didn't lift weights so much that day, that maybe right now Rella would be giggling with her sister. Of course, I say SISTER because my womb seems to be a hostile environment for testosterone. Or perhaps, that should give me reason to believe that it was a boy, which is why my body revolted against him.
I guess what I'm trying to say is knowing what I know about Vanishing Twins, it's like, they are never really completely viable in the first place. Which is why they don't make it. It's like, they never really had a chance, which I find profoundly sad. A brief little life that begins and ends in darkness. I know there was nothing I could have done to prevent the vanishing act, so I feel no guilt. It was in the cards. The DNA. The Master Plan.
But there is another vanishing act that has occurred which I have a harder time reconciling. It's much harder not to wonder if what I did pre-natally had an effect on CB... particularly when I did not know I was pregnant until I was 22 weeks along. And, as a 24 year old, single girl hanging out with my single friends, obviously I was not taking care of myself the way a knowingly pregnant woman would. Even after her diagnosis there were many things I should have done differently and I wonder if her functioning level would have been higher had I been a better, more proactive mother instead of a selfish, distracted, naive, depressed one. In short, I have lived 14 years under the unbearable weight of guilt.
But, couldn't it be that all of this was pre-ordained? Written in the stars? No matter what I did or did not do, her fate was to be this? While I can accept adult responsibility for the past, guilt is neither productive nor loving. Guilt cannot change the past or the future. It just constricts your air and strangles your limited energy. While I'm not letting myself completely off the hook, I'm starting to recognize that perhaps I was not entirely responsible for her neurological and developmental situation. And to the extent I didn't behave in the most productive ways with her post-diagnosis, I have to remember I was a child (not necessarily in age, but in maturity), surprised with unplanned motherhood and "trapped" in a quite unhealthy marriage with a man I did not love... or love enough. I, in short, was not at my best.
Like Rella's twin, an unknown soul who silently faded away before she barely began, perhaps CB's disabilities were inevitable. Despite my actions, attempts, love, and faith, the baby I knew and the life I thought we would share would slowly vanish before my eyes. Becoming part of my cells, whispering to me between the beats of my heart.
Only this time, I didn't have the protection of ignorance. This time, I got to fall in love with her before she disappeared.
It was a phenomenon called a "Vanishing Twin." Apparently, rather common yet generally people don't even know they HAD the twin growing in their belly unless they had a super early ultrasound. Interestingly, it seems to be most common when you are of "Advanced Maternal Age" *eye roll* which I was for my last 3 pregnancies. In the "old" days, you'd NEVER know without the benefit of our current technology. Now, they can tell you and I'm not sure it's even worth it. Somethings may be better left to ignorance. The thing with the Vanishing Twin is that the body re-absorbs the embryo over time until it disappears. Vanishes into the body. By the time of the last trimester, there is no physical trace that a potential life was here then gone.
I remember after I got home that night, I was backtracking to the time the doctor said the twin stopped showing signs of life. I guess, technically the day I "miscarried" her. I immediately knew the day it must have happened. I had worked out at my gym, as I did throughout the whole pregnancy. One evening I had felt particularly crampy to the point I had to lay down in bed. I even complained about it to my husband... something very unusual for me because I have very nice pregnancies and never complain about being pregnant OR lay down before 9:00 pm. I thought about how if I just didn't lift weights so much that day, that maybe right now Rella would be giggling with her sister. Of course, I say SISTER because my womb seems to be a hostile environment for testosterone. Or perhaps, that should give me reason to believe that it was a boy, which is why my body revolted against him.
I guess what I'm trying to say is knowing what I know about Vanishing Twins, it's like, they are never really completely viable in the first place. Which is why they don't make it. It's like, they never really had a chance, which I find profoundly sad. A brief little life that begins and ends in darkness. I know there was nothing I could have done to prevent the vanishing act, so I feel no guilt. It was in the cards. The DNA. The Master Plan.
But there is another vanishing act that has occurred which I have a harder time reconciling. It's much harder not to wonder if what I did pre-natally had an effect on CB... particularly when I did not know I was pregnant until I was 22 weeks along. And, as a 24 year old, single girl hanging out with my single friends, obviously I was not taking care of myself the way a knowingly pregnant woman would. Even after her diagnosis there were many things I should have done differently and I wonder if her functioning level would have been higher had I been a better, more proactive mother instead of a selfish, distracted, naive, depressed one. In short, I have lived 14 years under the unbearable weight of guilt.
But, couldn't it be that all of this was pre-ordained? Written in the stars? No matter what I did or did not do, her fate was to be this? While I can accept adult responsibility for the past, guilt is neither productive nor loving. Guilt cannot change the past or the future. It just constricts your air and strangles your limited energy. While I'm not letting myself completely off the hook, I'm starting to recognize that perhaps I was not entirely responsible for her neurological and developmental situation. And to the extent I didn't behave in the most productive ways with her post-diagnosis, I have to remember I was a child (not necessarily in age, but in maturity), surprised with unplanned motherhood and "trapped" in a quite unhealthy marriage with a man I did not love... or love enough. I, in short, was not at my best.
Like Rella's twin, an unknown soul who silently faded away before she barely began, perhaps CB's disabilities were inevitable. Despite my actions, attempts, love, and faith, the baby I knew and the life I thought we would share would slowly vanish before my eyes. Becoming part of my cells, whispering to me between the beats of my heart.
Only this time, I didn't have the protection of ignorance. This time, I got to fall in love with her before she disappeared.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
"When Two Words Collide" Is Over On NJ Moms Blog
A neighbor of ours puts up a huge blow up lawn display for Halloween every year. It is an enormous Garfield the Cat wearing a witch hat (yes, random I know). Last year, when my daughter was not yet 3, she was obsessed with this cat which we drove by every day in October. When she first saw him, she asked who he was. I explained he was Garfield and a little bit about the character cat… he took lots of naps, he played with his dog friend Odie, and he ate lots of lasagna. As repetitive toddlers are, she’d always ask the same questions, fully knowing the answers, every time we rode by. “What does Garfield eat?” “Who does Garfield play with?”This year, Garfield came up again. Since parents love any opportunity to test the brilliance of their children, I ask her “Who’s that?” as we drive by. Let’s see how much she remembers from last year. “It’s Garfield!” she shouts. “And what does Garfield like to do?” “Sleep!” she shouts! Oh, she’s brilliant! “And what does he like to eat? “ I query further, looking at her cherubic face and wide hazel eyes in the rear view mirror. “Vagana!” Continue reading this post on New Jersey Moms Blog >>>>>
Monday, October 19, 2009
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Some Things Are Sacred
My husband and I are very fiscally responsible. Basically, I'm frugal. He's cheap. I buy things on sale and clip coupons and hold back on the "impulse buying." I seldom buy ANYTHING for myself, and if I do (aside from the UGGS that then got a hole in them a year later) it's far from glamorous. The kids are mostly 99% in hand-me-downs. This is what I mean by frugal. My husband? Cheap. Here's the difference. He turns off the lights when I'm still IN the room doing dishes, puts the car in neutral every 20 yards while driving to "coast" as much as possible to save gas, and orders ONE drink at a restaurant which we then pass around the table for all 6 of us. He's been known to stop into WaWa (a convenience store) to pick up the free saltines as a snack for the girls. (They are very tasty saltines by the way). I won't even get started on the cell phone bill discussions.
Well, NOW he's taken the cake. We had a 15 minute discussion the other day about the excessive consumption of toilet paper in our household. TOILET PAPER!! He's done an analysis of our square-per-wipe usage and feels we GIRLS in the house are over-using. Dead effing serious. He's telling ME how many SQUARES I should allot for myself and each of the 2 toilet trained girls. The only part that's funny is that during this whole conversation I'm laughing my butt off waiting for the punch line, but he was totally sober. While he wasn't angry or annoyed, he was was making his point much like a lawyer. A slightly deranged lawyer, mind you. I thought he was going to whip out a bar graph at one point.
So, apparently, we're on SQUARE RATION now. Better invest in the 2-ply.
Is it just ME or is there something really wrong when you're being told how to wipe your own cooch?
Yeah, I'm drawing the line here. Some things are just sacred.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Philly LOVE
Yesterday we decided to head into Philly for the day to do nothing really, but just be in a new and different environment. We had no plan, agenda, or schedule. It was a gorgeous fall day so we just walked around...
We listened to a band outside on the Avenue of States, ate lunch at Buca's, ogled the giant clothes pin and jumped about on the huge game pieces across from the William Penn Building.We parked in a parking complex that spit us out right at a cool little street festival that was sponsored by local Gay organizations and honored gay pride. So, we walked around at that too. Go figure, what gay-oriented event would be complete without a small but loud ragtag group hanging out right in the middle of it shouting stuff about sinning and repenting into a megaphone. And, for real, can these people hook up with a good P.R. person or learn some better marketing because it's like they all come with these junky white signs with too many words handwritten in black marker crowded on the poster board and it always looks like those serial killer ransom notes where you cut out letters from magazines and tape together some loosely psychotic run-on sentences. No offense.
So, they've set themselves up at a festival acting as the mouthpiece of God. I guess God must have done a bunch of shouting and berating or something... That megaphone was just blaring non-stop with all kinds of antagonistic sounding stuff that's not inviting to ANYONE to listen to; gay, straight, Christian or non-Christian... I mean, this megaphone dude seriously never took a breath. He probably drank a bunch of Red Bull prior to his protesting. Or perhaps, just drank a wee too much of the proverbial Kool Aid.
And you know what I was thinking? Well, many things, but mainly I was having quite a giggle imagining the brilliant "think tank" behind Operation Convert The Heathens:
"Hey guys, I have an awesome idea! Though we go to every gay rights march and parade and we never seem to accomplish anything that puts Christianity in a positive light, let's go down and shout about sin and repenting and stuff. It'll TOTALLY work this time. Yeah, they'll hear us screaming at them in our megaphone... you know, just like how Jesus did... didn't He used to stand on the streets and shout at people as they walked by like a man who skipped too many doses of Lithium? It toooootally worked for him and all... "
Yes, I'm sure God was SO proud looking down at this display...
So, I start wondering if the goal of this group is to evangalize and "spread the good news" and all, ya know, to convince people to follow the Bible and become Christians, then I'm not sure how they're thinking this is the best way to do it. Are people really drawn to a group that is chastizing and shouting non-stop about nothing remotely helpful or loving? That tends to have the reverse effect. I'm wondering why they haven't found a different tactic to acheive their goal and then, it suddenly hits me!!
AH HA! The light bulb goes off. These megaphone shouters are SAYING they're trying to save our souls, bring us closer to God, to the Church, but NO -- that is NOT their true objective at ALL. You see the uber pious, "cast thy judgement" type people NEED us "sinners" or else they have no one to whom they can feel morally superior! And HELLO... that's their whole shtick - without the "heathen liberals" and "gays" and "baby killers" to look down upon, this group can't feel moral and self-righteous. And that's the whole gig - getting off on moral superiority, right? I thought I saw it in their mission statment once.
I mean, the self-righteous need people to sneer at... those who come to church not "dressed appropriately," have a child out of wedlock, or *gasp* voted the "wrong way" at the election! And on top of it all, this subgroup of people give Christians as a whole a bad name. I know quite a few Christians and they don't even OWN megaphones (unless they hide them from me) and are some of the kindest most generous spirits you'll meet.
And speaking of people giving others a bad name. I feel bad for Jesus. Like, seriously, was this innocent, kind hearted man reeeallly hanging on that cross, suffering one of the most torturous, gruesome, and undeserving deaths so we could shout out of megaphones at a gay festival or blow up an abortion clinic? I don't know... I'm only a liberal, non-church-going Episcopalian and all, but I'm going out on a limb here and guessing this wasn't exactly his focus...
I understand that the Bible does indeed address sin and rule following and right and wrong and repenting. But, while I'm no expert, I thought the main focus of the Christian bible was love. L-O-V-E, people. Isn't that the crux of all religious organizations? Isn't love supposed to be more powerful than hate, judgement, condemnation and pride? Isn't it what is supposed to save us all from ourselves and each other? Love. I totally stink at it myself, but I don't profess otherwise. And I certainly can't get down with anything that doesn't help me be a better person. I'm already good at being judgemental. I don't need any help with that.
Love. I wish I could read about it less and see it evidenced more. You want to sell me on something that will save my soul? Sell me on THAT.
And by the way, we had to wait like 20 minutes to get this picture taken so I'm pretending I'm not annoyed the dude cut off the top.
We listened to a band outside on the Avenue of States, ate lunch at Buca's, ogled the giant clothes pin and jumped about on the huge game pieces across from the William Penn Building.We parked in a parking complex that spit us out right at a cool little street festival that was sponsored by local Gay organizations and honored gay pride. So, we walked around at that too. Go figure, what gay-oriented event would be complete without a small but loud ragtag group hanging out right in the middle of it shouting stuff about sinning and repenting into a megaphone. And, for real, can these people hook up with a good P.R. person or learn some better marketing because it's like they all come with these junky white signs with too many words handwritten in black marker crowded on the poster board and it always looks like those serial killer ransom notes where you cut out letters from magazines and tape together some loosely psychotic run-on sentences. No offense.
So, they've set themselves up at a festival acting as the mouthpiece of God. I guess God must have done a bunch of shouting and berating or something... That megaphone was just blaring non-stop with all kinds of antagonistic sounding stuff that's not inviting to ANYONE to listen to; gay, straight, Christian or non-Christian... I mean, this megaphone dude seriously never took a breath. He probably drank a bunch of Red Bull prior to his protesting. Or perhaps, just drank a wee too much of the proverbial Kool Aid.
And you know what I was thinking? Well, many things, but mainly I was having quite a giggle imagining the brilliant "think tank" behind Operation Convert The Heathens:
"Hey guys, I have an awesome idea! Though we go to every gay rights march and parade and we never seem to accomplish anything that puts Christianity in a positive light, let's go down and shout about sin and repenting and stuff. It'll TOTALLY work this time. Yeah, they'll hear us screaming at them in our megaphone... you know, just like how Jesus did... didn't He used to stand on the streets and shout at people as they walked by like a man who skipped too many doses of Lithium? It toooootally worked for him and all... "
Yes, I'm sure God was SO proud looking down at this display...
So, I start wondering if the goal of this group is to evangalize and "spread the good news" and all, ya know, to convince people to follow the Bible and become Christians, then I'm not sure how they're thinking this is the best way to do it. Are people really drawn to a group that is chastizing and shouting non-stop about nothing remotely helpful or loving? That tends to have the reverse effect. I'm wondering why they haven't found a different tactic to acheive their goal and then, it suddenly hits me!!
AH HA! The light bulb goes off. These megaphone shouters are SAYING they're trying to save our souls, bring us closer to God, to the Church, but NO -- that is NOT their true objective at ALL. You see the uber pious, "cast thy judgement" type people NEED us "sinners" or else they have no one to whom they can feel morally superior! And HELLO... that's their whole shtick - without the "heathen liberals" and "gays" and "baby killers" to look down upon, this group can't feel moral and self-righteous. And that's the whole gig - getting off on moral superiority, right? I thought I saw it in their mission statment once.
I mean, the self-righteous need people to sneer at... those who come to church not "dressed appropriately," have a child out of wedlock, or *gasp* voted the "wrong way" at the election! And on top of it all, this subgroup of people give Christians as a whole a bad name. I know quite a few Christians and they don't even OWN megaphones (unless they hide them from me) and are some of the kindest most generous spirits you'll meet.
And speaking of people giving others a bad name. I feel bad for Jesus. Like, seriously, was this innocent, kind hearted man reeeallly hanging on that cross, suffering one of the most torturous, gruesome, and undeserving deaths so we could shout out of megaphones at a gay festival or blow up an abortion clinic? I don't know... I'm only a liberal, non-church-going Episcopalian and all, but I'm going out on a limb here and guessing this wasn't exactly his focus...
I understand that the Bible does indeed address sin and rule following and right and wrong and repenting. But, while I'm no expert, I thought the main focus of the Christian bible was love. L-O-V-E, people. Isn't that the crux of all religious organizations? Isn't love supposed to be more powerful than hate, judgement, condemnation and pride? Isn't it what is supposed to save us all from ourselves and each other? Love. I totally stink at it myself, but I don't profess otherwise. And I certainly can't get down with anything that doesn't help me be a better person. I'm already good at being judgemental. I don't need any help with that.
Love. I wish I could read about it less and see it evidenced more. You want to sell me on something that will save my soul? Sell me on THAT.
And by the way, we had to wait like 20 minutes to get this picture taken so I'm pretending I'm not annoyed the dude cut off the top.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Sometimes It's a Cruel World (or Why Birthday Parties Sometimes Suck)
"EWWWWWW! She's so gross!!"
"Yuck! Don't touch her!"
"Ahhhhh! Run Away! She's crazy!"
"Ew, look at her!"
The pack of little boys aged 3 to 6, were running up, screaming, laughing and mocking another child. This child, much older than they were, was sitting on the floor drooling profusely on herself, making funny sounds, staring and laughing at nothing, and flapping her hands wildly in the air. The child at the center of their verbal jabs and laughter was MY child. My CB. She was their freak show. They were openly and unabashedly teasing my child. My defenseless,happy, totally different and unique child.
And a knife stabbed into the flesh of my heart. The part that beats solely for her.
I was at a friend's child's birthday party with all 4 of my girls. I am always hesitant to take CB to parties and events where there are people there I don't know as well. I worry about the reactions of others and about what CB may do... how she'll act... what everyone will think. Sometimes I'm worrying that she'll start humping the floor. Other times I'm worried she'll crap in her diaper and I'll have no where to change a 5 foot tall 80 pound girl. Sometimes I'm worried about her breaking the hostess's priceless heirloom or that she'll push, scratch or kick a 15 month old who got too close. Sometimes I worry that she will slip out the back door and get herself halfway to the interstate before we find her. Seldom have I worried about mean, brazen teasing. I guess now I can add that to my list.
Though this type of thing doesn't happen to us too often when it does, I usually feel like I'm going to spit venom and go postal on the brats. I'm always able to hold back and instead use it as a "teaching moment." This time, however, my reaction was notably different. This time, I was oddly calm. Or perhaps not calm. More defeated. Numb. I brushed it off... let it go.
So, what did I do? I wish I could say my actions were noble, but they were the actions of a woman who was defeated by the cruelty of the world in which we live. I silently walked over to CB, lifted her up under her arms and quietly escorted her into the next room away from the boys. A place where I could see her and where other adults could bear witness and address their OWN children so as I wouldn't have to, because I'm just exhausted mentally and physically. Sometimes I don't feel like I want to educate every single person about CB's disabilities. I don't want to give preemptive explanations, autism lessons, or apologies. Sometimes, I don't want to feel different. I don't want HER to be different. I just want to go to a party with all my children and not feel like everyone is staring at her, let alone making FUN of her. Treating her as if she were a gross, twisted side-show or demented trick pony. Sometimes I just want a mental break from how others see her disability and just want to go out as a family and feel "normal."
So, life goes on. Forgive and forget. They were children and I knew many of them and knew they were good kids. I also felt like I understood why I responded the way I did - with resignation. With silence. I gave myself a break. I owed it to myself, right? I can't be "on" all the time.
Then, today, I thought about it again, and I felt the sudden pang of guilt and shame, because I realized that my decision to stay silent was a selfish one. Self preservational perhaps, but selfish nonetheless. It was selfish because I put myself and my mood above my own child's value - a vulnerable child who needs me most. I am her only voice. And whether she notices or computes or cares about the teasing is a moot point, as is the fact that I'm tired or embarrassed or drained. The voice I use to educate, yell, cry, help, heal, forgive is not only my voice, and my crusades are not mine alone. I owe it to all children and adults who are seen as less than valuable or beautiful simply because they have disability that isn't "pretty" and makes others uncomfortable.
I owe it to all of them. I owe even more to my little girl. I am her only voice, and I let her down when I chose to stay silent.
"Yuck! Don't touch her!"
"Ahhhhh! Run Away! She's crazy!"
"Ew, look at her!"
The pack of little boys aged 3 to 6, were running up, screaming, laughing and mocking another child. This child, much older than they were, was sitting on the floor drooling profusely on herself, making funny sounds, staring and laughing at nothing, and flapping her hands wildly in the air. The child at the center of their verbal jabs and laughter was MY child. My CB. She was their freak show. They were openly and unabashedly teasing my child. My defenseless,happy, totally different and unique child.
And a knife stabbed into the flesh of my heart. The part that beats solely for her.
I was at a friend's child's birthday party with all 4 of my girls. I am always hesitant to take CB to parties and events where there are people there I don't know as well. I worry about the reactions of others and about what CB may do... how she'll act... what everyone will think. Sometimes I'm worrying that she'll start humping the floor. Other times I'm worried she'll crap in her diaper and I'll have no where to change a 5 foot tall 80 pound girl. Sometimes I'm worried about her breaking the hostess's priceless heirloom or that she'll push, scratch or kick a 15 month old who got too close. Sometimes I worry that she will slip out the back door and get herself halfway to the interstate before we find her. Seldom have I worried about mean, brazen teasing. I guess now I can add that to my list.
Though this type of thing doesn't happen to us too often when it does, I usually feel like I'm going to spit venom and go postal on the brats. I'm always able to hold back and instead use it as a "teaching moment." This time, however, my reaction was notably different. This time, I was oddly calm. Or perhaps not calm. More defeated. Numb. I brushed it off... let it go.
So, what did I do? I wish I could say my actions were noble, but they were the actions of a woman who was defeated by the cruelty of the world in which we live. I silently walked over to CB, lifted her up under her arms and quietly escorted her into the next room away from the boys. A place where I could see her and where other adults could bear witness and address their OWN children so as I wouldn't have to, because I'm just exhausted mentally and physically. Sometimes I don't feel like I want to educate every single person about CB's disabilities. I don't want to give preemptive explanations, autism lessons, or apologies. Sometimes, I don't want to feel different. I don't want HER to be different. I just want to go to a party with all my children and not feel like everyone is staring at her, let alone making FUN of her. Treating her as if she were a gross, twisted side-show or demented trick pony. Sometimes I just want a mental break from how others see her disability and just want to go out as a family and feel "normal."
So, life goes on. Forgive and forget. They were children and I knew many of them and knew they were good kids. I also felt like I understood why I responded the way I did - with resignation. With silence. I gave myself a break. I owed it to myself, right? I can't be "on" all the time.
Then, today, I thought about it again, and I felt the sudden pang of guilt and shame, because I realized that my decision to stay silent was a selfish one. Self preservational perhaps, but selfish nonetheless. It was selfish because I put myself and my mood above my own child's value - a vulnerable child who needs me most. I am her only voice. And whether she notices or computes or cares about the teasing is a moot point, as is the fact that I'm tired or embarrassed or drained. The voice I use to educate, yell, cry, help, heal, forgive is not only my voice, and my crusades are not mine alone. I owe it to all children and adults who are seen as less than valuable or beautiful simply because they have disability that isn't "pretty" and makes others uncomfortable.
I owe it to all of them. I owe even more to my little girl. I am her only voice, and I let her down when I chose to stay silent.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Putting Off Til Tomorrow All The Crap I Don't Feel Like Dealing With Today
Ah, the proverbial back burner. How many things have I put back there? Mostly, the things that have to do with my own personal needs and desires. Minus the blogging, of course. Without blogging, there would be no sanity. And, without sanity, there can be no Mommy or Wife.
So what is on the back burner? It's really gotten quite crowded lately. Usually it's like dying my gray, keeping up friendships, showering, cleaning, organizing. Now, it's getting a bit out of hand. I think I need a serious intervention. Now HEALTH issues are going on the back burner.
I have been suffering from sudden onset vertigo for about 3 months now. It's sometimes accompanied often by unexplained nausea. And no, I'm not pregnant (quite positive on this). Now, it's probably all related to that stupid middle ear infection and ear drum rupture I had many months ago. Who knows. But, will I get myself to a doctor? No. No, I won't. I just can't be bothered. But, I made a big step and self-diagnosed over the Internet which was great because it's likely either labyrythitis or some inner ear virus. Both will likely remit on their own and are annoying but benign. Of course, there's a small chance I could develop meningitis or this could be a heart problem or brain tumor... but hey, those are some slim odds. I'm not dragging myself in to see Dr. DB with 3 kids and paying a stupid co-pay just for rule THAT out.
That's just me. I've always been remiss at taking care of myself. But then again, I'm a very healthy person with no allergies, G.I. issues, headaches/migraines or other lovely things that seem to plague most people I know. But lately I have been borderline malaise. Like this vertigo started up over the summer, then within a few weeks I get a U.T.I., then pink eye and now I'm like super duper tired like beyond normal tired... it's like I'm fighting off some low grade virus. But will I ever just go to the doctor and check it out? Oh no, of course not. No time. No energy. And, if it's just something stupid and benign, what's the point?
I know what you're thinking. Go to the stinkin' doctor. Yeah, yeah....
Now here's a different issue but goes along the same lines of "should I or shouldn't I" go see the doctor. Except this is for baby Rella. I had this referral for Early Intervention from my pediatrician months ago and even made an appointment which I later cancelled. It's like, she's an enigma. She isn't so great with the talking, but she talks sorta enough... though most of it is almost indecipherable to anyone but me and my husband. I mean, she definitely gets her point across just fine, it's just not good as the other kids her age. Receptively, she's totally on the money though. It's like, she's behind the normal curve a bit, but not obnoxiously so. So, should I be worried? Not worried? I don't know!
Then there is the whole issue that she doesn't eat ANYTHING... oh, and I don't mean picky eating. Pink was (and still is) a picky eater. I mean, this is what she eats: Pasta with red sauce, bread with butter, pretzels, yogurt or ice cream, some crackery type snack food, candy. Period. I'm not omitting anything. That is IT. Now there are a handful of other things she may eat 1 out of 10 times. Or, she'll eat something for weeks (like cheese) and then never touch it again. Some days, she'll go without eating more than 2 tiny pretzels all day for no reason. She just wants to drink milk - vats and vats of milk until I'm afraid she's going to vomit pure white. It's almost repulsive how much she's rather drink than eat sometimes. And I think about how she barfed a lot when she was a baby. She'll still do it randomly now... like spit up or whatever. Is this important? Silly? I don't feel like making her undergo tests for no reason, you know? But, I just remember how I was so naive with CB and didn't realize certain signs were significant. I just kick myself for not being more proactive with CB in the early years and here I am again, sitting here suffering from meningitis possibly ignoring signs and symptoms of something bigger so as to not feel and sound like an overly neurotic and dramatizing mom...
Oh, and she's totally pigeoned toed and bow legged too. If you see her run it's like amazing that she's not falling over, but she's not. The pediatrician said to wait until she was 2 before seeing the orthopedist. That's in about 6 weeks. These little suckers better straighten out soon. I'm totally not in the mood for more specialist. Haven't I made my quota already in CB's lifetime? So, it's like all this little silly stuff that perhaps I should be paying attention to, but it's all so silly and dumb.
Like, the 3 little ones have had "milesca" for like 2 years (a skin condition in the wart family that I'm sure I didn't spell properly) and will I ever bring them to the stinkin' dermatologist to get them frozen off or whatever???? Um, no. The answer is no. Even though they are spreading all over their own bodies and they're giving them to each other. I mean, I'm the person that sat there while Tink had pillow batting shoved up her nose for 7 months wondering why she had such rank, foul, disgusting BREATH every day. Finally, when we couldn't take it anymore and I have morbid fantasies about her having a sinus tumor or something, turns out she had cotton batting shoved up her nose. Problem solved. No disaster. It's just like... why don't I take care of the little things right away? I just let them sit on the back burner. Until they are ready to boil over...
So what is on the back burner? It's really gotten quite crowded lately. Usually it's like dying my gray, keeping up friendships, showering, cleaning, organizing. Now, it's getting a bit out of hand. I think I need a serious intervention. Now HEALTH issues are going on the back burner.
I have been suffering from sudden onset vertigo for about 3 months now. It's sometimes accompanied often by unexplained nausea. And no, I'm not pregnant (quite positive on this). Now, it's probably all related to that stupid middle ear infection and ear drum rupture I had many months ago. Who knows. But, will I get myself to a doctor? No. No, I won't. I just can't be bothered. But, I made a big step and self-diagnosed over the Internet which was great because it's likely either labyrythitis or some inner ear virus. Both will likely remit on their own and are annoying but benign. Of course, there's a small chance I could develop meningitis or this could be a heart problem or brain tumor... but hey, those are some slim odds. I'm not dragging myself in to see Dr. DB with 3 kids and paying a stupid co-pay just for rule THAT out.
That's just me. I've always been remiss at taking care of myself. But then again, I'm a very healthy person with no allergies, G.I. issues, headaches/migraines or other lovely things that seem to plague most people I know. But lately I have been borderline malaise. Like this vertigo started up over the summer, then within a few weeks I get a U.T.I., then pink eye and now I'm like super duper tired like beyond normal tired... it's like I'm fighting off some low grade virus. But will I ever just go to the doctor and check it out? Oh no, of course not. No time. No energy. And, if it's just something stupid and benign, what's the point?
I know what you're thinking. Go to the stinkin' doctor. Yeah, yeah....
Now here's a different issue but goes along the same lines of "should I or shouldn't I" go see the doctor. Except this is for baby Rella. I had this referral for Early Intervention from my pediatrician months ago and even made an appointment which I later cancelled. It's like, she's an enigma. She isn't so great with the talking, but she talks sorta enough... though most of it is almost indecipherable to anyone but me and my husband. I mean, she definitely gets her point across just fine, it's just not good as the other kids her age. Receptively, she's totally on the money though. It's like, she's behind the normal curve a bit, but not obnoxiously so. So, should I be worried? Not worried? I don't know!
Then there is the whole issue that she doesn't eat ANYTHING... oh, and I don't mean picky eating. Pink was (and still is) a picky eater. I mean, this is what she eats: Pasta with red sauce, bread with butter, pretzels, yogurt or ice cream, some crackery type snack food, candy. Period. I'm not omitting anything. That is IT. Now there are a handful of other things she may eat 1 out of 10 times. Or, she'll eat something for weeks (like cheese) and then never touch it again. Some days, she'll go without eating more than 2 tiny pretzels all day for no reason. She just wants to drink milk - vats and vats of milk until I'm afraid she's going to vomit pure white. It's almost repulsive how much she's rather drink than eat sometimes. And I think about how she barfed a lot when she was a baby. She'll still do it randomly now... like spit up or whatever. Is this important? Silly? I don't feel like making her undergo tests for no reason, you know? But, I just remember how I was so naive with CB and didn't realize certain signs were significant. I just kick myself for not being more proactive with CB in the early years and here I am again, sitting here suffering from meningitis possibly ignoring signs and symptoms of something bigger so as to not feel and sound like an overly neurotic and dramatizing mom...
Oh, and she's totally pigeoned toed and bow legged too. If you see her run it's like amazing that she's not falling over, but she's not. The pediatrician said to wait until she was 2 before seeing the orthopedist. That's in about 6 weeks. These little suckers better straighten out soon. I'm totally not in the mood for more specialist. Haven't I made my quota already in CB's lifetime? So, it's like all this little silly stuff that perhaps I should be paying attention to, but it's all so silly and dumb.
Like, the 3 little ones have had "milesca" for like 2 years (a skin condition in the wart family that I'm sure I didn't spell properly) and will I ever bring them to the stinkin' dermatologist to get them frozen off or whatever???? Um, no. The answer is no. Even though they are spreading all over their own bodies and they're giving them to each other. I mean, I'm the person that sat there while Tink had pillow batting shoved up her nose for 7 months wondering why she had such rank, foul, disgusting BREATH every day. Finally, when we couldn't take it anymore and I have morbid fantasies about her having a sinus tumor or something, turns out she had cotton batting shoved up her nose. Problem solved. No disaster. It's just like... why don't I take care of the little things right away? I just let them sit on the back burner. Until they are ready to boil over...
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Hot Off The Press: Cowboy and Wills
"Monica Holloway has written one of the most extraordinary memoirs I've ever read. Tender, loving, and heartbreakingly intimate, it chronicles her struggle to coax her son, Wills, out of the shell of autism. I highly recommend this gorgeous and frank book about family, connections, and the ephemeral state of belonging."-- Barrie Gillies, senior editor, Parents Magazine
I cannot wait to read this wondeful memoir and share my thoughts with you in the near future. In the meantime, to learn more about a young boy, his family, and the dog that broke through the walls of Autism and changed them all, you can watch this Book Trailer.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Comment For A Cause: Breast Cancer and Domestic Violence Awareness Month
October is National Domestic Violence Awareness Month AND Breast Cancer Awareness Month. In honor of these important women's issues, Heather at Singing With My Heart is contributing .25 for every comment left over on HER blog (up to $250.00). She will add an additional .25 to her donation if you write a post on your own blog and link to her and ANOTHER .5 if you tweet it. She will collect comments through the entire month of October. When she reaches her goal, she will divide the money that YOU helped her raise and donate equally to both charities. There's also a chance for YOU to win a $25.00 Amazon gift card.
So, PLEASE, head on over to Singing With My Heart and do one of the simplest good deeds you can.
Friday, October 2, 2009
We're Still Rockin' The Flock Of Seagulls
My girls have the world's slowest growing, baby fine, wispy, thin hair known to all of mankind. They are all born bald as cue balls and the hair is very slow to grow. In fact, Pink didn't have her first haircut until she was 4. Even then, that first "haircut" was really just a trim to even things out. Tink, who will be 4 in January, has yet to have received her first haircut either. Her hair is barely past her chin. The drawbacks of their hair quality is outweighed by the beauty of its unique color. They both have chestnut brown locks with amazing golden highlights that women pay big bucks for. It's like, the color of Tiger's Eye stone, matching exactly with their gorgeous eyes.
Well, thin hair tends to look scraggly (I know this from personal experience) and so my husband and I thought it would be nice to shape their hair up a little. My husband plays hookie from work for an hour and meets us at the overpriced Salon de Kids - which IS very cute but I just get sick thinking about spending $12.00 plus tip on a child's hair. But, they did look adorable and the ladies were super nice.
This was Tink's FIRST EVER IN HER LIFE haircut and Pink's first ever cut by someone who was not me in our bathroom armed only with a pair of kitchen sheers and a prayer.
Though Pink has fantasized for months, staring through the window of this salon, at sitting on the pink motorcycle while getting styled, she sweetly volunteered to give the motorcycle to Tink. This act of altruism was because shortly before entering the salon, Tink scrapped her big toe and it was bleeding and she was freaking out crying. Pink, the caretaker, asked Tink if she'd like to sit on the pink motorcycle and stayed true to her word. That girl is the sweetest most compassionate little thing ever.
Unlike friends of mine whose 3 years olds donate 16 inches of hair to Locks Of Love, Pink and Tink's cuts amounted to barely 4 inches, combined.
Yes, these are my little Rapunzels here. Even with Tink's little trim she's still rockin' the Flock Of Seagulls swoop. I don't know what the deal is with that swoop she's got going on, but she's had it ever since her hair grew in and I can't train it to go otherwise.
Total change of subject: The weird bad luck things have subsided. For the most part. I have not burned sage because I cannot FIND sage anywhere, but I've managed to improve my mood and perspective despite 2 out of the 4 kids getting diarrhea. I still have random things happen, but on a much smaller and manageable scale. Like, I got a giant (and I mean GIANT) splinter UNDERNEATH my fingernail. It just went in at the right angle to piece directly below my nail and the tippy top broke off when I tried to remove it so there is like a long splinter completely submerged under my pinky fingernail. For, like, ever perhaps? Then, 2 days later I woke up with conjunctivitis or pink eye. How the hell are you supposed to tell the difference? I don't know. But it's probably because I wear my disposable contacts about 4 months longer than recommended. Or it's because Rella's snot from whatever SHE'S been sick with had made it not only into my hair, but into my eyeball as well. The eye problem mainly stinks because I have to wear my glasses now and not only are they coke bottle bottoms that minimize my eyeballs into tiny peas, but they are totally crooked and too loose after I fell asleep in them once and bent the frames. As you can imagine I look soooo hot. Total Rock Star.
We still don't know if we're going to get our $3,000 back from the company we "bought" our master bath vanity from, and we're still fighting to get our $1,000 deductible back from the one (out of 3) car accidents which was the ONLY one that actually WASN'T my fault. Of course,the other guy involved swears it was because he must have nothing better to do with his lame life than conjure up falsehoods and pursue lost causes. Go for it dude. Don't worry about ME. I have a money tree in my back yard. I'll just pick off some hundreds later today.
But, at least my INTERNET is working (*knock knock*) which I'm ashamed to admit makes a huge difference in my mental state. And despite several set backs with our new house, it is still overall going great and it looks so pretty...
Well, thin hair tends to look scraggly (I know this from personal experience) and so my husband and I thought it would be nice to shape their hair up a little. My husband plays hookie from work for an hour and meets us at the overpriced Salon de Kids - which IS very cute but I just get sick thinking about spending $12.00 plus tip on a child's hair. But, they did look adorable and the ladies were super nice.
This was Tink's FIRST EVER IN HER LIFE haircut and Pink's first ever cut by someone who was not me in our bathroom armed only with a pair of kitchen sheers and a prayer.
Though Pink has fantasized for months, staring through the window of this salon, at sitting on the pink motorcycle while getting styled, she sweetly volunteered to give the motorcycle to Tink. This act of altruism was because shortly before entering the salon, Tink scrapped her big toe and it was bleeding and she was freaking out crying. Pink, the caretaker, asked Tink if she'd like to sit on the pink motorcycle and stayed true to her word. That girl is the sweetest most compassionate little thing ever.
Unlike friends of mine whose 3 years olds donate 16 inches of hair to Locks Of Love, Pink and Tink's cuts amounted to barely 4 inches, combined.
Yes, these are my little Rapunzels here. Even with Tink's little trim she's still rockin' the Flock Of Seagulls swoop. I don't know what the deal is with that swoop she's got going on, but she's had it ever since her hair grew in and I can't train it to go otherwise.
Total change of subject: The weird bad luck things have subsided. For the most part. I have not burned sage because I cannot FIND sage anywhere, but I've managed to improve my mood and perspective despite 2 out of the 4 kids getting diarrhea. I still have random things happen, but on a much smaller and manageable scale. Like, I got a giant (and I mean GIANT) splinter UNDERNEATH my fingernail. It just went in at the right angle to piece directly below my nail and the tippy top broke off when I tried to remove it so there is like a long splinter completely submerged under my pinky fingernail. For, like, ever perhaps? Then, 2 days later I woke up with conjunctivitis or pink eye. How the hell are you supposed to tell the difference? I don't know. But it's probably because I wear my disposable contacts about 4 months longer than recommended. Or it's because Rella's snot from whatever SHE'S been sick with had made it not only into my hair, but into my eyeball as well. The eye problem mainly stinks because I have to wear my glasses now and not only are they coke bottle bottoms that minimize my eyeballs into tiny peas, but they are totally crooked and too loose after I fell asleep in them once and bent the frames. As you can imagine I look soooo hot. Total Rock Star.
We still don't know if we're going to get our $3,000 back from the company we "bought" our master bath vanity from, and we're still fighting to get our $1,000 deductible back from the one (out of 3) car accidents which was the ONLY one that actually WASN'T my fault. Of course,the other guy involved swears it was because he must have nothing better to do with his lame life than conjure up falsehoods and pursue lost causes. Go for it dude. Don't worry about ME. I have a money tree in my back yard. I'll just pick off some hundreds later today.
But, at least my INTERNET is working (*knock knock*) which I'm ashamed to admit makes a huge difference in my mental state. And despite several set backs with our new house, it is still overall going great and it looks so pretty...
Thursday, October 1, 2009
And The Kreativ Blog Awards Go To....
So along with the Lemonade Award I received recently, the honor of the Kreativ Blog Award was also bestowed upon me. I was nominated by one of my all time favorite bloggers, Tanya, over at Teen Autism. I know I highlighted how much I love Tanya's blog a few posts ago, but I'm lovin' that I get to do it AGAIN! Her blog is magnificent - beautifully written, sincere, poignant, and full of love for her 2 boys. Tanya is an exceptional writer, strong woman, and the type of loving mother I strive to be. Go visit her and you'll never want to leave!To Those Who Are Nominated: Here are the "rules" of the award:
* You must thank the person who has given you this award
* Copy the logo onto your blog (in post or sidebar)
* Link to the person who nominated you for the award
* Name 7 things about yourself people may find interesting
* Nominate 7 other Kreativ bloggers
* Post links to the 7 blogs you nominated
* Leave a comment on each nominee's blog to let them know they have been nominated.
7 Oh So Super Interesting Things About Myself:
1. I really dislike listing interesting things about myself because I'm seriously not that interesting of a person. In fact, if I had no kids to talk/vent about, I would be the dullest person on the face of the earth because I seriously have no life.
2. The smell of limes makes me involuntarily gag.
3. I love writing letters - like REAL letters with pen and nice stationary and sending them via snail mail.
4. People who whistle incessantly while grocery shopping annoy and perplex me profusely.
5. I have a borderline phobia of the ocean, snakes and David Hasselhoff.
6. My pinky toes are seriously decrepit.
7. I have been known to eat sauerkraut straight out of the can, cold.
And here are my nominees (drumroll......)
The House That Osh Built : This blog is one of the BEST blogs ever. It's like stumbling upon a little gem when you least expect it. "Osh" and her son/sidekick "Streetwiser" are beyond hilarious. Quirky, funny, smart, and sensitive, The House That Osh Built is written in a totally fresh, wholly different style than the "typical" blog. Snippets, bits of conversation, disjointed thoughts, and pieces of funny stories provide a uniquely humorous and inspiring blog. It's brilliant! Oh, and it's got Johnny Depp in it too (*sigh*) which is just the icing on an already terrific cake. The best part is the banter between mother and son. You just can't MAKE these priceless conversations up!! You GOT to check her out!
Stimeyland: Speaking of hilarious, Osh and Stimey are neck and neck. I need to wear my daughter's Depends every time I read this blog. Stimey's writing style and creativity are pure genius. Stop whatever you are doing right now - SERIOUSLY - and read one of the funniest posts I've ever read in my life HERE. Ok... glad you're back. Good fart stories are always the best, am I right? I *heart* this blog to pieces!! It makes me squirt diet pepsi out my nose.
The Adventures Of Mr. Busypants: Jeannie over at The Adventure of Mr. Busypants is so adorable, sweet, lighthearted and a creative story teller. A talent in many ways, Jeannie shares parenthood's funniest stories with a relaxed writing style that feels like you're chatting with her on the phone. I'm always smiling after I visit her site!
Send Chocolate Now: T. is a fantastic writer who can easily shift from a very serious journalistic approach on a serious social issue to a funny, sarcastic piece that has you in stitches! She is also the creator of, and contributing author for, the powerful blog Autism Sucks which has provided a forum for many parents to safely and openly 'vent' and process stories about raising children on the spectrum.
The Traveling Circus: I'm new to this blog and really love it! Cristie is a great Mom/writer/entrepreneur and what I like about her blog is that she doesn't just write about mommy/family. A lot of her essays are just about life and herself and random subjects. And they are really well structured pieces that read like butter (or is that butta'?). Anyway, she's my new find and I'm lovin' her!! Go check her out and give her some "new bloggie" luv.
Okay, that's not quite 7 nominees, but hopefully the Blog Award Police won't fine me for this little transgression. Please visit my nominees and ALL the phenomenal bloggers on my blogroll whom I loyally read and ENJOY!!
Goody Bag Guilt
At some point, a group of people invented the "Child's Birthday Party" complete with accompanying paraphernalia and ritual: Butter cream frosted cake, the very original Happy Birthday song, candles, gifts, hats and horns. Somewhere in the genesis of the Birthday Party, the concept of a "Goody Bag" was also introduced. I'd like to blame the invention of the Goody Bag on a man, as men are usually the ones behind such detestable things as the corset, big uncomfortable maxi pads, high heeled shoes and thong underwear. But I really think women... mothers in particular...are to be blamed for this one. Perky, Susie Homemaker, June Cleaver Mothers from an era long gone. I make this conclusion because I know of NO mother today who adores handing out OR receiving said junky goody bag at party's end. I say, we mothers may have started this senselessness but it is within our power to finish it too. Read More Of This Post At New Jersey Moms Blog >>>>
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