WHY do they offer a "remember me" option when you sign in if blogger.com NEVER REMEMBERS YOU ANYWAY?
Why does the kindy teacher want everything -- even the individual pencils -- labeled?
Why won't max sleep ANYWHERE but in a moving car or my arms?
Why are people around here so stupid?
Why is it 80 degrees and 8000% humidity? I felt like I was in the rainforest just stepping out to the car to get the school supplies?
Why don't schools supply their own damn pencils, glue and crayons? When I went to kindergarten I didn't need to buy that stuff. Of course, it was almost 40 years ago, but I think the scool supplied us with slate pencils, primers and a water pail, at least.
8.23.2007
8.22.2007
Win-win
So in a few minutes, we'll go pick up Sophy, Emily's favorite babysitter, and she and Emily can hang out for a couple of hours and have "girl time" before Sophy goes back to Vassar on Friday (we have VERY classy babysitters!) and so I can get some errands done WITHOUT someone talking constantly and asking me for everything they see and complaining about how they NEVER get ANYthing, EVER...
And tomorrow is kindergarten orientation. Fingers, toes, everything crossable crossed that it goes well. I think it will.
Now that the hurricane remnants have passed through, it is hot, sticky, humid and in general disgusting out. I REEEEALLY have had enough of summer, already.
We went and helped out at church last night a bit -- they are repainting and rearranging some of the Sunday School rooms. With their usual stellar organizational and communication skills, only about 4 people ended up showing at completely random times, and the babysitting and activities were sketchy. So we bailed a little early, but not before I scraped about 8 years' worth of dried glue and paint off the preschool art tables, and got to know a bit too much about some of the other parishioners. There's something about being in recovery (AA in this one guy's case) that does make one go on, and on, and on, and on and on-anon...
OK, have to scoot.
And tomorrow is kindergarten orientation. Fingers, toes, everything crossable crossed that it goes well. I think it will.
Now that the hurricane remnants have passed through, it is hot, sticky, humid and in general disgusting out. I REEEEALLY have had enough of summer, already.
We went and helped out at church last night a bit -- they are repainting and rearranging some of the Sunday School rooms. With their usual stellar organizational and communication skills, only about 4 people ended up showing at completely random times, and the babysitting and activities were sketchy. So we bailed a little early, but not before I scraped about 8 years' worth of dried glue and paint off the preschool art tables, and got to know a bit too much about some of the other parishioners. There's something about being in recovery (AA in this one guy's case) that does make one go on, and on, and on, and on and on-anon...
OK, have to scoot.
8.21.2007
yumm-o
I made the single best batch of kheer (Indian spiced rice pudding) for book club last night. We read Hullabaloo in the Guava Orchard by Kiran Desai, and it was my turn to make refreshments, so I wanted to go with an Indian theme. I had also planned to make onion bhaji and buy some samosas, but the universe conspired against me. Still, the kheer is FABULOUS. Cardamom, nutmeg, almonds, orange peel, a touch of saffron, and a hint of rose essence. Beats any restaurant version I've ever had! And it makes a damn good breakfast.
So church will start back up. Not that it doesn't continue year-round, but it isn't really feasible in the summer with no Sunday school -- Emily has the attention span of a gnat and Max is beyond the stage where I could just nurse and have him sleep through the service. They do have a nursery worker, but I'm not that fond of her, although the kids seem to like her well enough.
And Emily will be attending a Jewish elementary school, after being raised Episcopalian and going to two rather evangelically-oriented VBSs. This should be interesting!
I'm still in utter despair at the state of my house -- I've nearly crossed the line into How Clean Is Your House territory (from a mere Clean Sweep level) but without help it is IMPOSSIBLE. I hate this.
So church will start back up. Not that it doesn't continue year-round, but it isn't really feasible in the summer with no Sunday school -- Emily has the attention span of a gnat and Max is beyond the stage where I could just nurse and have him sleep through the service. They do have a nursery worker, but I'm not that fond of her, although the kids seem to like her well enough.
And Emily will be attending a Jewish elementary school, after being raised Episcopalian and going to two rather evangelically-oriented VBSs. This should be interesting!
I'm still in utter despair at the state of my house -- I've nearly crossed the line into How Clean Is Your House territory (from a mere Clean Sweep level) but without help it is IMPOSSIBLE. I hate this.
8.19.2007
Beginning of the end
Well, I for one am glad summer's drawing to a close. I do worry that we might have a repeat of the Montessori disaster when Emily starts Akiva, but I think it might be different -- she is older, her best friend is there, etc. I do know she NEEEEEDS some daily activity/outside the house time, and she's bored, so it will make a difference.
Now if only we could get Max to sleep in his crib, instead of ONLY attached to my boob, or in the car (while driving) or on Jon after he's walked him five miles or so around the living room.
And I'm trying to de-squalor the house one room at a time. It has been a painfully slow process, because everybody is around all the time, and because I have been MAJORLY depressed, but I'm not going to feel any better by continuing to sit in the squalor.
Off to do errands.
Now if only we could get Max to sleep in his crib, instead of ONLY attached to my boob, or in the car (while driving) or on Jon after he's walked him five miles or so around the living room.
And I'm trying to de-squalor the house one room at a time. It has been a painfully slow process, because everybody is around all the time, and because I have been MAJORLY depressed, but I'm not going to feel any better by continuing to sit in the squalor.
Off to do errands.
6.09.2007
Such Drama!
So this playgroup I'm in completely imploded this past week. Something about some member keeping a spreadsheet (?!) about another/prospective member, trying to get everyone else involved, then someone else deleted her, so she went off and started a new group. Wailing and gnashing of teeth ensued. It seems more people were discontented than we had assumed, because now most of us, including me, have joined that other group (although I'm going "bi", staying in both).
Holy hell, what a mess.
On the other hand, I designed an absolutely ROCKIN' t-shirt for the original group, but now I doubt it will get made. However, I'd feel funny about letting the new group use the design.
Max is driving me absolutely crazy. He WILL NOT sleep unless he is attached to my boob, or asleep on my lap, or very occasionally in the car (if it's moving). He will also sleep reasonably well in our bed at night. But this means that except for the times Jon takes him off my hands, he is literally attached to me all the time. Not just waking hours.
He is fussy, too. Not colicky like the girls were, but it seems like he gets bored or uncomfortable or something rather quickly. I'm not sure what it is, really. He does have reflux, and that might be part of the problem -- he spits up CONSTANTLY which is also really wearing me out (and destroying all my shirts). We give him Zantac but I don't really see a difference. I'm thinking I might need to check with the ped again about this.
I had thought about trying to start him on a bit of cereal, because sometimes with reflux babies that will stay in a little better, but I don't think he's ready for spoon feeding yet and I don't want to give it to him in a bottle.
I hate wishing his babyhood away, but I am going to be glad when this part passes and I can use my hands from time to time, or even have him unattached to me for more than a half-hour here and there.
Holy hell, what a mess.
On the other hand, I designed an absolutely ROCKIN' t-shirt for the original group, but now I doubt it will get made. However, I'd feel funny about letting the new group use the design.
Max is driving me absolutely crazy. He WILL NOT sleep unless he is attached to my boob, or asleep on my lap, or very occasionally in the car (if it's moving). He will also sleep reasonably well in our bed at night. But this means that except for the times Jon takes him off my hands, he is literally attached to me all the time. Not just waking hours.
He is fussy, too. Not colicky like the girls were, but it seems like he gets bored or uncomfortable or something rather quickly. I'm not sure what it is, really. He does have reflux, and that might be part of the problem -- he spits up CONSTANTLY which is also really wearing me out (and destroying all my shirts). We give him Zantac but I don't really see a difference. I'm thinking I might need to check with the ped again about this.
I had thought about trying to start him on a bit of cereal, because sometimes with reflux babies that will stay in a little better, but I don't think he's ready for spoon feeding yet and I don't want to give it to him in a bottle.
I hate wishing his babyhood away, but I am going to be glad when this part passes and I can use my hands from time to time, or even have him unattached to me for more than a half-hour here and there.
5.31.2007
He's got teeth!
The first 2 are juuuuuust beginning to poke through -- the sharp little edges, anyway. He's been an absolute pill, but seems to be calming down a bit.
Funny; Hannah got her first teeth at 6 months, Emily got them at 3, and Max is halfway in between at 4 1/2 months teething.
I had Sophy babysit for the 2 of them today, which didn't go terribly well -- Max was outraged at the fact that I wasn't there, and that Sophy was not lactating. I did leave bottles, but it just didn't quite cut it.
I did get out briefly this evening, after throwing a mild tantrum about never having a life and Emily being wild and uncontrollable and Max being a human barnacle.
Luckily I was able to refill my Zoloft script while I was out.
Went to the bookstore briefly, wandered around, etc.
Anyway, that's all the drivel for now.
Funny; Hannah got her first teeth at 6 months, Emily got them at 3, and Max is halfway in between at 4 1/2 months teething.
I had Sophy babysit for the 2 of them today, which didn't go terribly well -- Max was outraged at the fact that I wasn't there, and that Sophy was not lactating. I did leave bottles, but it just didn't quite cut it.
I did get out briefly this evening, after throwing a mild tantrum about never having a life and Emily being wild and uncontrollable and Max being a human barnacle.
Luckily I was able to refill my Zoloft script while I was out.
Went to the bookstore briefly, wandered around, etc.
Anyway, that's all the drivel for now.
5.25.2007
The more things change
So apparently we're NOT done supplementing Max. A couple of weeks ago, after his bottle, he threw it all up and was feverish for the next 24 hours. Since rotavirus was going around, I thought that was part of his problem. I took him in the next day and he had gained 4 ounces in as many days, so I decided to stop supplementing (he was just getting 2 oz in the evening).
Well, he turned into one cranky little bastard for the next couple of weeks. He was nursing a lot, peeing and pooping fine, but DAMN he was fussy. We just couldn't figure it out -- maybe he was just about to make a development surge (he did roll over for the first time today...), maybe something I was eating was upsetting him, maybe he was just recovering from being a little sick. Maybe teething, although no sign of teeth yet.
Well, the other night he was just SCREAMING so Jon decided we should just try giving him a 2oz bottle. Sure enough -- he's been like a different kid ever since. It's weird what a difference just that 2oz of formula seems to make. It can't be that he's been thriving on just that feeding, and he certainly nurses nonstop so I know he's getting a bunch. He clearly wasn't losing weight or going hungry when we weren't doing it, but I don't know -- maybe by the end of the day he's tired and wants something more, well, "solid" in his tummy.
Oh well. It's nice to have him back to his (comparatively) unfussy self. I was so traumatized, thinking he was only NOW starting to develop colic, or maybe there was a neurological disorder. You'd think by the 3rd kid I'd know not to imagine worst-case scenarios for everything.
Emily had her last-day-of-school picnic today. It was fun. She played most of the time with her two "boyfriends" (her term, not mine) Anthony and Caleb -- the two redheaded boys in the school. She is definitely more at ease playing with boys -- she certainly has the same energy level and need for constant motion and noise. ASSuming Max shares those traits, she'll make a good big sister for a little boy.
It's weird to think she's getting to the same age/stage Hannah was before she died. I am starting to think about all of that a lot more, as Emily gets ready for kindergarten. I think in a way it's going to be strange when Emily finishes that first kindergarten year and turns 6 -- we will finally be in new territory. I have been parenting kids 5 and under for nearly a decade now. I've mentioned before that this is a bit like the movie Groundhog Day, only instead of repeating each day I repeat 4-year cycles. Except this time we have a baby boy instead of a baby girl, and DH's job is not as likely to be at risk, it's almost the same circumstances -- been in new house/town 2 years, older dd finishing preschool, younger child turning from baby to toddler (or in Max's case, from newborn to just plain baby, what with rolling over and starting to grab at things).
Well, there's more, but I'm tired. More later.
Well, he turned into one cranky little bastard for the next couple of weeks. He was nursing a lot, peeing and pooping fine, but DAMN he was fussy. We just couldn't figure it out -- maybe he was just about to make a development surge (he did roll over for the first time today...), maybe something I was eating was upsetting him, maybe he was just recovering from being a little sick. Maybe teething, although no sign of teeth yet.
Well, the other night he was just SCREAMING so Jon decided we should just try giving him a 2oz bottle. Sure enough -- he's been like a different kid ever since. It's weird what a difference just that 2oz of formula seems to make. It can't be that he's been thriving on just that feeding, and he certainly nurses nonstop so I know he's getting a bunch. He clearly wasn't losing weight or going hungry when we weren't doing it, but I don't know -- maybe by the end of the day he's tired and wants something more, well, "solid" in his tummy.
Oh well. It's nice to have him back to his (comparatively) unfussy self. I was so traumatized, thinking he was only NOW starting to develop colic, or maybe there was a neurological disorder. You'd think by the 3rd kid I'd know not to imagine worst-case scenarios for everything.
Emily had her last-day-of-school picnic today. It was fun. She played most of the time with her two "boyfriends" (her term, not mine) Anthony and Caleb -- the two redheaded boys in the school. She is definitely more at ease playing with boys -- she certainly has the same energy level and need for constant motion and noise. ASSuming Max shares those traits, she'll make a good big sister for a little boy.
It's weird to think she's getting to the same age/stage Hannah was before she died. I am starting to think about all of that a lot more, as Emily gets ready for kindergarten. I think in a way it's going to be strange when Emily finishes that first kindergarten year and turns 6 -- we will finally be in new territory. I have been parenting kids 5 and under for nearly a decade now. I've mentioned before that this is a bit like the movie Groundhog Day, only instead of repeating each day I repeat 4-year cycles. Except this time we have a baby boy instead of a baby girl, and DH's job is not as likely to be at risk, it's almost the same circumstances -- been in new house/town 2 years, older dd finishing preschool, younger child turning from baby to toddler (or in Max's case, from newborn to just plain baby, what with rolling over and starting to grab at things).
Well, there's more, but I'm tired. More later.
5.14.2007
Monday
Things are chugging along. We had a nice Mother's Day -- went to church, chatted with friends, then Emily and I went to the store to get stuff to take to Nesha's for dinner. Then Jon took over with the kids while I fixed a hellacious pasta salad, and then off to Nesha's for dinner: grilled steaks, green salad, my pasta salad, wine, hard cider, and strawberries & ice cream for dessert.
SO much fun. They are becoming real friends. It's funny how Nesha and I have gotten to know each other largely through posting together on the same message boards, which I stumbled on when I posted on Sybermoms that I knew someone with a dd named Philosophy, and two people immediately knew who I was talking about and led me over to those boards.
It reminds me a bit of when I was little and my parents and the Gallins would hang out, although they are pretty much the opposite of the Gallins, thank god. The Gallins scattered when my parents split. I don't think Rita was all that into it, actually.
So today, I hung out and nursed and watched TV in the am, then picked up Emily, took Max for his blood draw for the thyroid check, then off to the mall for lunch and some playing. Not a bad day. I hope the thyroid levels are continuing to normalize. I think they are. The alternative is just too terrifying.
Dinner: ground beef & peas curry, aloo gobi, basmati rice.
Got Emily a haircut today too. Not unlike mine, except hers is longer and her hair is not shot through with wiry grays. She did great -- got her hair washed at the sinks just like a grownup, and was OK about sitting still and following directions during the cut.
Tomorrow's a Meetup playgroup at Karen's. They have a teeny McMansion kind of house and a blingy playset out back, but she's refreshingly down-to-earth. Hoping it's a good turnout.
Friday Jon will be taking the day off, because it'll be Emily's last Friday at preschool (complete with Mom's Day Out so she'll be gone for FIVE HOURS) and he will take charge of Max (except for the nursing, of course) and I will shovel the shit out of this house and make my best effort to get it into some kind of presentable shape. I'm not trying for perfection, but I am trying to get us out of the "squalor" category. It's too gross. I think I'd feel a hell of a lot better, too, if things were fairly neat and comfortable, instead of dirty and chaotic. I'm going to set a goal of having a faculty party sometime this fall, so I can get the house presentable on a day-to-day basis and avoid having the hugely stressful marathon cleaning before the party.
I am also going to have to get the list of home improvements out and see where we can start. I did talk to Pete this week about coming by and checking out our landscaping (or lack thereof) to see what he can do about getting things looking better.
SO much fun. They are becoming real friends. It's funny how Nesha and I have gotten to know each other largely through posting together on the same message boards, which I stumbled on when I posted on Sybermoms that I knew someone with a dd named Philosophy, and two people immediately knew who I was talking about and led me over to those boards.
It reminds me a bit of when I was little and my parents and the Gallins would hang out, although they are pretty much the opposite of the Gallins, thank god. The Gallins scattered when my parents split. I don't think Rita was all that into it, actually.
So today, I hung out and nursed and watched TV in the am, then picked up Emily, took Max for his blood draw for the thyroid check, then off to the mall for lunch and some playing. Not a bad day. I hope the thyroid levels are continuing to normalize. I think they are. The alternative is just too terrifying.
Dinner: ground beef & peas curry, aloo gobi, basmati rice.
Got Emily a haircut today too. Not unlike mine, except hers is longer and her hair is not shot through with wiry grays. She did great -- got her hair washed at the sinks just like a grownup, and was OK about sitting still and following directions during the cut.
Tomorrow's a Meetup playgroup at Karen's. They have a teeny McMansion kind of house and a blingy playset out back, but she's refreshingly down-to-earth. Hoping it's a good turnout.
Friday Jon will be taking the day off, because it'll be Emily's last Friday at preschool (complete with Mom's Day Out so she'll be gone for FIVE HOURS) and he will take charge of Max (except for the nursing, of course) and I will shovel the shit out of this house and make my best effort to get it into some kind of presentable shape. I'm not trying for perfection, but I am trying to get us out of the "squalor" category. It's too gross. I think I'd feel a hell of a lot better, too, if things were fairly neat and comfortable, instead of dirty and chaotic. I'm going to set a goal of having a faculty party sometime this fall, so I can get the house presentable on a day-to-day basis and avoid having the hugely stressful marathon cleaning before the party.
I am also going to have to get the list of home improvements out and see where we can start. I did talk to Pete this week about coming by and checking out our landscaping (or lack thereof) to see what he can do about getting things looking better.
5.12.2007
good hair day
It's amazing what a haircut will do. I found a stylist a year ago at one of the mall places, who actually listens, who is intelligent, and who is over 12 years old. I got the greatest bob, with a very light bang. MUCH better.
Of course, getting to go to the mall without any kids and having something done just for ME helped too.
Of course, getting to go to the mall without any kids and having something done just for ME helped too.
5.11.2007
Annual update
A LOT has changed since last time.
For one thing, we have a son named Max Jonathan, who will be 4 months old a week from today.
Actually that's the main thing that's changed.
We were still on the fence about whether to have another baby. I knew my history and knew that the infant/early toddler part is just not my favorite part of parenting. I also wasn't sure what I'd do if it was a boy.
So I got my period on Hannah's 8th birthday, which kind of stood out. It came and went; then I was a bit late the next month. We weren't trying, but since my PMS symptoms seem to be somewhat similar to early pg symptoms (fatigue, nausea) I decided to test, although I knew there was no way.
Way!
So I started off with the midwife, Tammy P., who turned out to be a controlling nutbar. After a while it was more than I could stand so I switched to her former backup OB, Joni Canby. I had asked Tammy if Dr. Canby was still her backup doc and she said "NO" rather abruptly and clearly did not want to discuss it. The more I got to know Tammy and how crazy she is, the more I realize there is probably a good reason why they don't work together any more.
I had gestational diabetes again, no big surprise. Managed by perinatologists. I also did the CVS again, but to my absolute horror, they did it via a large needle in the abdomen. To be honest I don't think they had a clue how to do it the "real" way. Had I known this, I would have gone out-of-network and just gone back to Ann Arbor for it. Anyway, the results were good, no genetic abnormalities... and it was a BOY.
That was a real blow, for a while. I didn't realize just how much I'd been counting on it being a girl until I found out. I was seriously disappointed, and in the back of my mind even contemplated terminating the pregnancy, although I knew if push came to shove I probably wouldn't want to. Luckily by then it was really too late to do so without it being a major procedure, so I just let the idea go.
Over time I came around to the idea of it being a boy. We were contemplating David or Daniel for a first name, Jonathan for the middle (I happen to like it for a first name, but Jon didn't want to do the "Jr." thing. I didn't either, frankly, but I do like the name). Out of nowhere, Emily said she liked the name Max and that we were going to name the baby Max. At first I thought it was ridiculous and completely pooh-poohed it, and then as time went on it seemed more and more appropriate. And now that he's here, he's definitely a Max.
I had a C-section, scheduled. Partly because they were concerned he was going to be too big for a vaginal delivery (he was 9lb 2oz, but I really think I could have pushed him out), and partly (as I discovered after the fact) because Dr. Canby was going out of town the weekend of the 21st (his due date) so she apparently induced and sectioned the vast majority of her patients that were due around that time. Aside from the fact that I didn't want a Csection to begin with, it also caused the maternity floor at Beeghly to be absolutely overflowing. The nursing staff was stretched as thin as possible, and it sucked.
So partly as a result of that, we got off to a rocky start with nursing, and he was extremely jaundiced; first just the physiologic and then the true breastmilk jaundice. Several thousand heel pricks, a bili-blanket rental, and doctor visits later, the jaundice went away. However, it caused his weight to drop a bit more than usual for newborns, so Dr. Bair (the teenage pediatrician) referred us to a ped. endocrinologist and a ped. GI, just to make sure there weren't any metabolic or GI issues. Also, we went to the lactation staff at Beeghly a few times and they got me on this grueling pumping routine to build up my supply. For a while we had to supplement, but at this point I'd say we're done doing that, and even though he only nurses from one breast, he's gaining weight like a champ -- I took him in Monday because he was fussy and I wanted them to check his ears, and he was 13lb 14 oz. I took him in again Thursday because he got sick (fever, throwing up) and he was 14lb 4 oz!
The GI thinks he has a bit of reflux, so he gets Zantac 2x/day. I can't tell if it makes a difference or not. He spits up a LOT, although it's getting a little better. The girls didn't spit up nearly this much.
Emily on the whole has handled this very well. She loves him, and he always smiles at her. When she is feeling jealous or ignored, which unfortunately is fairly often, she either just complains about it or pushes the limits with US, but does not direct it towards Max. I knew she'd be good. It does help that he was born right in the middle of the school year, so her day-to-day life wasn't disrupted quite as much as it could have been. However, summer yawns before us, and it will be a long one.
It sucks because like his sisters, Max wants to be held all.the.time and doesn't take kindly to being put down. He also wants to nurse almost constantly. So I don't get to do much with Emily and I really hate that. Also, he sleeps with us and that's getting old. I'm hoping that in the next few weeks we can start putting him in his crib for at least the first part of the night. As it is now I'm carrying/holding/sleeping next to him virtually 24/7, and it's taking its toll. Jon was so busy this semester -- it JUST ended this week -- so although he did way more than his share in terms of helping out, it still was brutal.
In other news:
Mom has moved to Orlando, FL. Good in a way; she's near her brother and I think she was ready for a change, but bad too, because now my Michigan "home base" is permanently gone. I mean, her phone number was the same one I grew up with. I always knew that if the shit really hit the fan, I could go there. I still can go to her, but it won't be "home" the way Michigan is.
Also Zoe moved to Charleston, SC, minus Gary -- they're getting a divorce. I won't bore you with the details, but clearly they shouldn't have married in the first place. She's still annoying, in fact more so, as time goes on. She and Mom are two peas in a pod, although she'd probably set me on fire if I said that to her.
Dad is in horrible, horrible shape. His short-term memory is GONE. I really don't think he's functioning at all on his own, which is scary now that he has nobody in town who really gives a damn (besides useless drinking buddies). So I'm trying to convince him to get going down to the Valley or even come here and find a retirement apartment somewhere. It would be incredibly difficult and stressful having him here, but I just can't bear the idea of him completely alone up there with literally nobody to check on him. He could be dead for a week in his apt. before anyone knew, the way it is now.
Emily is going to start kindergarten at Akiva next year (the Jewish private school, where Andrew goes). It's $$$$, but the reason we're doing it is that at Serendipity they want her to stay for the 5's class. In a way I don't think it would be a bad idea, but I don't think they're doing the academic stuff that she is clearly ready for. Since Akiva is more advanced academically but the classes are very small and intimate, this seems like a good balance. She won't get lost in the shuffle, but she'll be challenged as much as she needs to be.
Since she's going to be there, I have drafted a 2-year plan to get this house in top shape. In 2 years, one way or another, I think we'll need to move. Either Jon won't get tenure, in which case we'll leave the area (please, GOD, let him get tenure), or he will, but she'll still be at Akiva and I think we should find a less expensive house, to make more $ available (to say nothing of the burden should Max go there too). I don't know if we would want to leave the Boardman school district, since Emily still may go to middle and/or high school there, and Max may not be at Akiva at all. I do plan to send him to Serendipity when the time comes, unless we decide to move to another part of town.
I have seen a lot of cute, smaller houses in Boardman that are at least 1/3 less than this house. I think we bit off a little more than we could chew -- we can afford it, but it does take a chunk out. It's kind of big, and the neighborhood is a little snobby. I'd like to scale back a bit, find a house with a nice front porch and a neighborhood with sidewalks. We really don't need 4 bedrooms. We just aren't making good use of the space we have and we have too much space.
I had a job, briefly, doing the church newsletter, but once Max was born it was impossible. So I stepped down. I will either start up again this fall, or not at all. I hope I can stay with it -- it was nice to be part of that.
I think that's about it. Getting sleepy. Tomorrow at 9 I'm finally getting a haircut (for the first time since Max was born).
Well, more tomorrow. Hoping the haircut gives me a bit of a lift.
For one thing, we have a son named Max Jonathan, who will be 4 months old a week from today.
Actually that's the main thing that's changed.
We were still on the fence about whether to have another baby. I knew my history and knew that the infant/early toddler part is just not my favorite part of parenting. I also wasn't sure what I'd do if it was a boy.
So I got my period on Hannah's 8th birthday, which kind of stood out. It came and went; then I was a bit late the next month. We weren't trying, but since my PMS symptoms seem to be somewhat similar to early pg symptoms (fatigue, nausea) I decided to test, although I knew there was no way.
Way!
So I started off with the midwife, Tammy P., who turned out to be a controlling nutbar. After a while it was more than I could stand so I switched to her former backup OB, Joni Canby. I had asked Tammy if Dr. Canby was still her backup doc and she said "NO" rather abruptly and clearly did not want to discuss it. The more I got to know Tammy and how crazy she is, the more I realize there is probably a good reason why they don't work together any more.
I had gestational diabetes again, no big surprise. Managed by perinatologists. I also did the CVS again, but to my absolute horror, they did it via a large needle in the abdomen. To be honest I don't think they had a clue how to do it the "real" way. Had I known this, I would have gone out-of-network and just gone back to Ann Arbor for it. Anyway, the results were good, no genetic abnormalities... and it was a BOY.
That was a real blow, for a while. I didn't realize just how much I'd been counting on it being a girl until I found out. I was seriously disappointed, and in the back of my mind even contemplated terminating the pregnancy, although I knew if push came to shove I probably wouldn't want to. Luckily by then it was really too late to do so without it being a major procedure, so I just let the idea go.
Over time I came around to the idea of it being a boy. We were contemplating David or Daniel for a first name, Jonathan for the middle (I happen to like it for a first name, but Jon didn't want to do the "Jr." thing. I didn't either, frankly, but I do like the name). Out of nowhere, Emily said she liked the name Max and that we were going to name the baby Max. At first I thought it was ridiculous and completely pooh-poohed it, and then as time went on it seemed more and more appropriate. And now that he's here, he's definitely a Max.
I had a C-section, scheduled. Partly because they were concerned he was going to be too big for a vaginal delivery (he was 9lb 2oz, but I really think I could have pushed him out), and partly (as I discovered after the fact) because Dr. Canby was going out of town the weekend of the 21st (his due date) so she apparently induced and sectioned the vast majority of her patients that were due around that time. Aside from the fact that I didn't want a Csection to begin with, it also caused the maternity floor at Beeghly to be absolutely overflowing. The nursing staff was stretched as thin as possible, and it sucked.
So partly as a result of that, we got off to a rocky start with nursing, and he was extremely jaundiced; first just the physiologic and then the true breastmilk jaundice. Several thousand heel pricks, a bili-blanket rental, and doctor visits later, the jaundice went away. However, it caused his weight to drop a bit more than usual for newborns, so Dr. Bair (the teenage pediatrician) referred us to a ped. endocrinologist and a ped. GI, just to make sure there weren't any metabolic or GI issues. Also, we went to the lactation staff at Beeghly a few times and they got me on this grueling pumping routine to build up my supply. For a while we had to supplement, but at this point I'd say we're done doing that, and even though he only nurses from one breast, he's gaining weight like a champ -- I took him in Monday because he was fussy and I wanted them to check his ears, and he was 13lb 14 oz. I took him in again Thursday because he got sick (fever, throwing up) and he was 14lb 4 oz!
The GI thinks he has a bit of reflux, so he gets Zantac 2x/day. I can't tell if it makes a difference or not. He spits up a LOT, although it's getting a little better. The girls didn't spit up nearly this much.
Emily on the whole has handled this very well. She loves him, and he always smiles at her. When she is feeling jealous or ignored, which unfortunately is fairly often, she either just complains about it or pushes the limits with US, but does not direct it towards Max. I knew she'd be good. It does help that he was born right in the middle of the school year, so her day-to-day life wasn't disrupted quite as much as it could have been. However, summer yawns before us, and it will be a long one.
It sucks because like his sisters, Max wants to be held all.the.time and doesn't take kindly to being put down. He also wants to nurse almost constantly. So I don't get to do much with Emily and I really hate that. Also, he sleeps with us and that's getting old. I'm hoping that in the next few weeks we can start putting him in his crib for at least the first part of the night. As it is now I'm carrying/holding/sleeping next to him virtually 24/7, and it's taking its toll. Jon was so busy this semester -- it JUST ended this week -- so although he did way more than his share in terms of helping out, it still was brutal.
In other news:
Mom has moved to Orlando, FL. Good in a way; she's near her brother and I think she was ready for a change, but bad too, because now my Michigan "home base" is permanently gone. I mean, her phone number was the same one I grew up with. I always knew that if the shit really hit the fan, I could go there. I still can go to her, but it won't be "home" the way Michigan is.
Also Zoe moved to Charleston, SC, minus Gary -- they're getting a divorce. I won't bore you with the details, but clearly they shouldn't have married in the first place. She's still annoying, in fact more so, as time goes on. She and Mom are two peas in a pod, although she'd probably set me on fire if I said that to her.
Dad is in horrible, horrible shape. His short-term memory is GONE. I really don't think he's functioning at all on his own, which is scary now that he has nobody in town who really gives a damn (besides useless drinking buddies). So I'm trying to convince him to get going down to the Valley or even come here and find a retirement apartment somewhere. It would be incredibly difficult and stressful having him here, but I just can't bear the idea of him completely alone up there with literally nobody to check on him. He could be dead for a week in his apt. before anyone knew, the way it is now.
Emily is going to start kindergarten at Akiva next year (the Jewish private school, where Andrew goes). It's $$$$, but the reason we're doing it is that at Serendipity they want her to stay for the 5's class. In a way I don't think it would be a bad idea, but I don't think they're doing the academic stuff that she is clearly ready for. Since Akiva is more advanced academically but the classes are very small and intimate, this seems like a good balance. She won't get lost in the shuffle, but she'll be challenged as much as she needs to be.
Since she's going to be there, I have drafted a 2-year plan to get this house in top shape. In 2 years, one way or another, I think we'll need to move. Either Jon won't get tenure, in which case we'll leave the area (please, GOD, let him get tenure), or he will, but she'll still be at Akiva and I think we should find a less expensive house, to make more $ available (to say nothing of the burden should Max go there too). I don't know if we would want to leave the Boardman school district, since Emily still may go to middle and/or high school there, and Max may not be at Akiva at all. I do plan to send him to Serendipity when the time comes, unless we decide to move to another part of town.
I have seen a lot of cute, smaller houses in Boardman that are at least 1/3 less than this house. I think we bit off a little more than we could chew -- we can afford it, but it does take a chunk out. It's kind of big, and the neighborhood is a little snobby. I'd like to scale back a bit, find a house with a nice front porch and a neighborhood with sidewalks. We really don't need 4 bedrooms. We just aren't making good use of the space we have and we have too much space.
I had a job, briefly, doing the church newsletter, but once Max was born it was impossible. So I stepped down. I will either start up again this fall, or not at all. I hope I can stay with it -- it was nice to be part of that.
I think that's about it. Getting sleepy. Tomorrow at 9 I'm finally getting a haircut (for the first time since Max was born).
Well, more tomorrow. Hoping the haircut gives me a bit of a lift.
2.02.2006
Welcome to the 21st century
Yes, we've gone broadband. DAMN, it's fast. I love this.
Blindsided by a recent bout of depression which I think was at least peripherally related to January 31, which is the anniversary of Hannah's memorial service.
Last year was a blur, but I think I realized this year that THAT is the date that hits me hard, even more so than the actual death date, because I wasn't "there" for her death, if that makes any sense -- I was knocked silly and was out of it for at least two days, and my memory for at least a couple of weeks after that was completely foggy, as were my thought processes and mental acuity in general.
It was getting the memorial service together, and dealing with everyone's insanity and general thoughtlessness in the process, that kind of woke me out of my stupor. Even as I was driving to the church that morning I was in denial, thinking that she couldn't really be gone forever, but as soon as we were there I knew -- I couldn't pretend otherwise anymore.
And yet I didn't get emotional, at least not that I remember. I think my mind kind of skittered around the actual subject and focused on all the external details -- seeing all the people who came (the church was PACKED, they brought up all the extra folding chairs from the basement and there were still people packed in, standing, at the back and in the vestibule), greeting everyone, kind of keeping an eye on everything.
I wonder sometimes if people who were there thought it was weird that I didn't cry; the rest of my family and close friends cried quite a bit.
I just couldn't. It was so surreal, and in a very twisted way, it was actually quite nice to see everyone and talk to so many friends. I actually found myself enjoying the... whatever it was... wake? downstairs after the service. The service itself was just a blur. Jon's dad did the eulogy, and I think it was pretty good, but I don't really remember. I do remember a couple of the hymns, not by name, but occasionally they play one or the other in church and it kind of hits me then.
Blindsided by a recent bout of depression which I think was at least peripherally related to January 31, which is the anniversary of Hannah's memorial service.
Last year was a blur, but I think I realized this year that THAT is the date that hits me hard, even more so than the actual death date, because I wasn't "there" for her death, if that makes any sense -- I was knocked silly and was out of it for at least two days, and my memory for at least a couple of weeks after that was completely foggy, as were my thought processes and mental acuity in general.
It was getting the memorial service together, and dealing with everyone's insanity and general thoughtlessness in the process, that kind of woke me out of my stupor. Even as I was driving to the church that morning I was in denial, thinking that she couldn't really be gone forever, but as soon as we were there I knew -- I couldn't pretend otherwise anymore.
And yet I didn't get emotional, at least not that I remember. I think my mind kind of skittered around the actual subject and focused on all the external details -- seeing all the people who came (the church was PACKED, they brought up all the extra folding chairs from the basement and there were still people packed in, standing, at the back and in the vestibule), greeting everyone, kind of keeping an eye on everything.
I wonder sometimes if people who were there thought it was weird that I didn't cry; the rest of my family and close friends cried quite a bit.
I just couldn't. It was so surreal, and in a very twisted way, it was actually quite nice to see everyone and talk to so many friends. I actually found myself enjoying the... whatever it was... wake? downstairs after the service. The service itself was just a blur. Jon's dad did the eulogy, and I think it was pretty good, but I don't really remember. I do remember a couple of the hymns, not by name, but occasionally they play one or the other in church and it kind of hits me then.
1.09.2006
Long time no post
Well, this is becoming less of a blog and more of a quarterly report. At the rate I'm going it's going to turn into an annual Christmas letter, so I'll just try to pick up a couple of months after I left off and see how that goes. It's late and I'm tired, so I'll just do an outline right now and flesh it out later (within the week, I promise).
Let's see...
--Finalized insurance settlements from accident. Feels icky, but at least it's done now.
--Decided to pursue suit against GM, against my better judgment but at urging of Jon, attorneys and people who know a great deal more about this than I do. That's the last I'll mention of this until if/when it's done with. It hasn't even come close to starting, anyway.
--Fired my therapist, after he told me the reason he doesn't like the Catholic high schools in this area was because of all the interracial dating, which he apparently doesn't "believe in" (?), because according to him the "races shouldn't mix". He didn't back down from this statement even after I told him that if everyone felt that way my father wouldn't exist, nor would my husband, nor would Hannah's best friend Brandon, just to name a very few. So I walked out. Still trying to figure out what to do next, and thinking I will probably report him anyway.
--Marked the passing of the 2nd anniversary of Hannah's death with a day-sponsorship tribute to her on our local public radio station (good liberals that we are) and a really nice stay at Sandy's house so as to be convenient to the rock the next morning. As it was last year, it was bone-chilling bitter cold, but despite that several friends turned out and it was well worth it.
--Celebrated our own Christmas at home, complete with tree, presents, church service (they actually had a sort of pageant, and Emily was an angel in it -- kind of blindsided because all I was told was that they would get to walk in and sing a song together. Stil, wasn't as painful as I thought it would be. My parents came for Christmas. That was not bad on the whole -- they behaved well -- but Dad's clearly starting on the Alzheimer's decline; Mom acts like a bossy six-year-old around him, and it was impossible to actually have a conversation. Emily enjoyed all of it mightily, got lots of nice gifts, can't wait to do it again next year. It was hard for Jon and me but I am glad we did it and I think we'll just continue to refine it until we find what works best for us.
--New Years' with Jon's sister Sarah, husband Andy, and their kids Phoebe (age 7, 3 months younger than Hannah) and Noah (age 4). I was afraid at first of how it would be to have Phoebe there since she and Hannah were close, not just in age but as playmates, and I hadn't seen them since the memorial service. It actually wasn't bad, though. Phoebe is not at all like she used to be -- she's now got some nice manners and a sense of humor, and she is really a sweet kid. Noah is a maniac but is at least good natured. Emily had a BALL with the cousins and it was hard on us all when they left; fortunately school has started again.
--Jon and I have started exercising at the Y a lot and it has made so many things so much better. Everything from sex to sleep to coping with stress. DUH, why did we let this go so long?
--I've done major purging and decluttering of house and closets and stuff, and am going to get some new stuff for the kitchen, living room, family room and computer room.
That's about it. I re-read The Handmaid's Tale at about the same time as I heard about a bill introduced in VA that basically forbids reproductive assistance technology to anyone but legally married women. Not a happy combination of events. This country and the "leaders" of the government are scaring the everliving FUCK out of me. I'm not nearly as opposed to the idea of emigrating as I once was. If anything comes up for Jon job-wise in Canada, the UK, Australia or some country where I'd have at least a fighting chance of scraping by linguistically (France, Spain, Mexico?) maybe we should just go for it. I'd be especially keen on the UK or Australia.
Thanks to Gretchen we've added a new TV addiction -- Arrested Development. It just got canceled but we will catch up on the DVDs as Gretchen buys them.
We may be acquiring Zoe's cats -- Eric and Schrodinger (I can't make the little umlaut thingy that's supposed to go over the "o" in "Schrodinger"). I don't know if I've posted in here about this but we had to have George put down sometime in November, or maybe early December. He was just plodding along as usual but we think he may have developed some kind of tumor or cancer; one day he just lost the ability to move and was clearly miserable. At age 15, you have to be prepared for some kind of problems like this in a male cat with health problems. I miss him; it was kind of weird for him not to be there. Other than a couple of books and CD's, we have had him longer than we've had anything else together; in fact I got him before we were even engaged. He was really our first child.
I know there's more, but I have to get some sleep. Anyway, I think those are the most important ones so far.
Let's see...
--Finalized insurance settlements from accident. Feels icky, but at least it's done now.
--Decided to pursue suit against GM, against my better judgment but at urging of Jon, attorneys and people who know a great deal more about this than I do. That's the last I'll mention of this until if/when it's done with. It hasn't even come close to starting, anyway.
--Fired my therapist, after he told me the reason he doesn't like the Catholic high schools in this area was because of all the interracial dating, which he apparently doesn't "believe in" (?), because according to him the "races shouldn't mix". He didn't back down from this statement even after I told him that if everyone felt that way my father wouldn't exist, nor would my husband, nor would Hannah's best friend Brandon, just to name a very few. So I walked out. Still trying to figure out what to do next, and thinking I will probably report him anyway.
--Marked the passing of the 2nd anniversary of Hannah's death with a day-sponsorship tribute to her on our local public radio station (good liberals that we are) and a really nice stay at Sandy's house so as to be convenient to the rock the next morning. As it was last year, it was bone-chilling bitter cold, but despite that several friends turned out and it was well worth it.
--Celebrated our own Christmas at home, complete with tree, presents, church service (they actually had a sort of pageant, and Emily was an angel in it -- kind of blindsided because all I was told was that they would get to walk in and sing a song together. Stil, wasn't as painful as I thought it would be. My parents came for Christmas. That was not bad on the whole -- they behaved well -- but Dad's clearly starting on the Alzheimer's decline; Mom acts like a bossy six-year-old around him, and it was impossible to actually have a conversation. Emily enjoyed all of it mightily, got lots of nice gifts, can't wait to do it again next year. It was hard for Jon and me but I am glad we did it and I think we'll just continue to refine it until we find what works best for us.
--New Years' with Jon's sister Sarah, husband Andy, and their kids Phoebe (age 7, 3 months younger than Hannah) and Noah (age 4). I was afraid at first of how it would be to have Phoebe there since she and Hannah were close, not just in age but as playmates, and I hadn't seen them since the memorial service. It actually wasn't bad, though. Phoebe is not at all like she used to be -- she's now got some nice manners and a sense of humor, and she is really a sweet kid. Noah is a maniac but is at least good natured. Emily had a BALL with the cousins and it was hard on us all when they left; fortunately school has started again.
--Jon and I have started exercising at the Y a lot and it has made so many things so much better. Everything from sex to sleep to coping with stress. DUH, why did we let this go so long?
--I've done major purging and decluttering of house and closets and stuff, and am going to get some new stuff for the kitchen, living room, family room and computer room.
That's about it. I re-read The Handmaid's Tale at about the same time as I heard about a bill introduced in VA that basically forbids reproductive assistance technology to anyone but legally married women. Not a happy combination of events. This country and the "leaders" of the government are scaring the everliving FUCK out of me. I'm not nearly as opposed to the idea of emigrating as I once was. If anything comes up for Jon job-wise in Canada, the UK, Australia or some country where I'd have at least a fighting chance of scraping by linguistically (France, Spain, Mexico?) maybe we should just go for it. I'd be especially keen on the UK or Australia.
Thanks to Gretchen we've added a new TV addiction -- Arrested Development. It just got canceled but we will catch up on the DVDs as Gretchen buys them.
We may be acquiring Zoe's cats -- Eric and Schrodinger (I can't make the little umlaut thingy that's supposed to go over the "o" in "Schrodinger"). I don't know if I've posted in here about this but we had to have George put down sometime in November, or maybe early December. He was just plodding along as usual but we think he may have developed some kind of tumor or cancer; one day he just lost the ability to move and was clearly miserable. At age 15, you have to be prepared for some kind of problems like this in a male cat with health problems. I miss him; it was kind of weird for him not to be there. Other than a couple of books and CD's, we have had him longer than we've had anything else together; in fact I got him before we were even engaged. He was really our first child.
I know there's more, but I have to get some sleep. Anyway, I think those are the most important ones so far.
11.11.2005
Stray bullets
Well, maybe it's just a function of the depression kind of creeping back, or the time of year, or whatever. But it seems like there have been some random triggers here and there.
A major one which took me entirely by surprise tonight was the last scene of Puccini's La Boheme. We went to see it performed tonight. A local performance, not entirely mediocre, and one of my favorite operas anyway. (I'm enough of a geek that I can actually use the plural of "opera" in that sentence. Yowza.) But the final scene, where Mimi is resting on the couch and she and Rodolfo have been left alone together and they share memories of their time together, brought back vividly the time when we saw Hannah in the funeral home, and were given some time to sit with her body. I remember talking to her and memories just flooding out, telling her how beautiful she was and how proud we always would be of her.
Anyway, I don't think I want to see that performed again.
A major one which took me entirely by surprise tonight was the last scene of Puccini's La Boheme. We went to see it performed tonight. A local performance, not entirely mediocre, and one of my favorite operas anyway. (I'm enough of a geek that I can actually use the plural of "opera" in that sentence. Yowza.) But the final scene, where Mimi is resting on the couch and she and Rodolfo have been left alone together and they share memories of their time together, brought back vividly the time when we saw Hannah in the funeral home, and were given some time to sit with her body. I remember talking to her and memories just flooding out, telling her how beautiful she was and how proud we always would be of her.
Anyway, I don't think I want to see that performed again.
11.09.2005
It's starting to hit me
that Christmas is approaching. Yes, I have a keen grasp of the obvious. Thank you for pointing that out.
We're going to have it at home this year. Emily is looking forward to it and getting excited about the whole thing. I am looking forward to giving her a nice holiday but on the other hand, I haven't done Christmas since 2002, and I think just a few minutes ago it hit me how hard it is going to be. I was posting on a parenting board (one I've been part of since I was about 3 weeks pg with Hannah) about upcoming holidays when it kind of took over.
I think I've been just thinking about individual components of it -- the presents one day, food another, decorating, etc. but the big picture, a family Christmas of our own but without Hannah, hadn't entered my mind. Or perhaps I was just trying very hard not to see it.
Damn. I have a feeling I've just fallen off this nice little plateau I had been coasting on for the past several weeks. Suddenly I feel very, very bad.
Good thing I see the shrink tomorrow.
We're going to have it at home this year. Emily is looking forward to it and getting excited about the whole thing. I am looking forward to giving her a nice holiday but on the other hand, I haven't done Christmas since 2002, and I think just a few minutes ago it hit me how hard it is going to be. I was posting on a parenting board (one I've been part of since I was about 3 weeks pg with Hannah) about upcoming holidays when it kind of took over.
I think I've been just thinking about individual components of it -- the presents one day, food another, decorating, etc. but the big picture, a family Christmas of our own but without Hannah, hadn't entered my mind. Or perhaps I was just trying very hard not to see it.
Damn. I have a feeling I've just fallen off this nice little plateau I had been coasting on for the past several weeks. Suddenly I feel very, very bad.
Good thing I see the shrink tomorrow.
10.10.2005
Who IS this person?
Well, things are quite different, as in: better.
Preschool is going well. Still a minute or so of drama/clinginess as we get there, and Mrs. J distracts her instantly and all is well from then on. She's made a friend in the class -- Hannah Elizabeth, of all the unbelievable things -- who apparently would go to Emily whenever she got whiny or upset and hug and pat her and say "It's OK". I know Hannah is an extremely common name for kids this age, although this is the first Hannah Elizabeth I've met besides our own Hannah. Whatever -- it may mean something, it just may be a complete random coincidence, but I get some comfort from it regardless.
I seem to have completely thrown off the lethargy/rage/active depression, at least for now. Not sure how much is the new med, how much of it is stuff finally settling down school-wise. I'm like June Cleaver on meth -- the house is clean, stuff is getting taken care of (just minor shit like replacing burned-out bulbs, cleaning out closets, etc.), we are living less squalorously than we were before. Jon has always been one to just do whatever needs to be done, but in his own (disorganized) way. Now without anything being said, he's following through more on the way I do things (more organized) and it's great. Even Emily is getting into it -- and perhaps preschool helps; there's more structure and organization, and she's getting good about putting stuff away and not strewing everything she owns over every square inch of the house.
Maybe it's just a temporary respite from the depression, but it is very refreshing. It feels a little weird, too.
In fact it's almost boring, because I don't have much to say here. I'm a bit wiped out physically from all the work, and it's too much effort to even think of anything else to talk about. Maybe my mind or emotions really are taking a break from everything.
Blah. I will write more if anything occurs to me. Click some of the links if you want something more interesting to read.
Preschool is going well. Still a minute or so of drama/clinginess as we get there, and Mrs. J distracts her instantly and all is well from then on. She's made a friend in the class -- Hannah Elizabeth, of all the unbelievable things -- who apparently would go to Emily whenever she got whiny or upset and hug and pat her and say "It's OK". I know Hannah is an extremely common name for kids this age, although this is the first Hannah Elizabeth I've met besides our own Hannah. Whatever -- it may mean something, it just may be a complete random coincidence, but I get some comfort from it regardless.
I seem to have completely thrown off the lethargy/rage/active depression, at least for now. Not sure how much is the new med, how much of it is stuff finally settling down school-wise. I'm like June Cleaver on meth -- the house is clean, stuff is getting taken care of (just minor shit like replacing burned-out bulbs, cleaning out closets, etc.), we are living less squalorously than we were before. Jon has always been one to just do whatever needs to be done, but in his own (disorganized) way. Now without anything being said, he's following through more on the way I do things (more organized) and it's great. Even Emily is getting into it -- and perhaps preschool helps; there's more structure and organization, and she's getting good about putting stuff away and not strewing everything she owns over every square inch of the house.
Maybe it's just a temporary respite from the depression, but it is very refreshing. It feels a little weird, too.
In fact it's almost boring, because I don't have much to say here. I'm a bit wiped out physically from all the work, and it's too much effort to even think of anything else to talk about. Maybe my mind or emotions really are taking a break from everything.
Blah. I will write more if anything occurs to me. Click some of the links if you want something more interesting to read.
10.03.2005
Things continue to improve
at least with preschool. This morning she was kind of whiny and "I don't want to go to school" and "I want to stay home" and "I want to cry for two minutes".
For some reason, I decided at the last minute that we should get a different kind of snack (she was supposed to bring cereal bars, since she was the snack person today, and I had brought some hippy-dippy organic ones which we like but which I feared most of her classmates would not). Going to the store distracted her and got her all excited, and focused her attention on her role as "snack person" which helped.
So we got to school and there was a bit of very minor intermittent whining. We were a bit early so sat in the hall and looked over the Scholastic Books order forms, went potty (not in the hall, obviously), chatted with a couple of other moms and kids.
She went right into the classroom once Mrs. J opened the door. I walked in with her, gave her a kiss, she started up with the "I want mommy" but it lasted about two seconds, with no actual crying. Mrs. J immediately redirected her to some new activity and apparently it was perfect from that moment on. I arrived a bit early for pick-up and she was completely into the activity, laughing, having a blast.
She ran out with a huge grin, all excited. "Mommy! I didn't cry today!" So I made a big fuss over how great she did, took her out for ice cream, and we proceeded to have a really terrific day together.
It was ODD -- I did a lot of cleaning and throwing out all the junk mail and random chores, and she was absolutely wonderful about just going about her business, entertaining herself (playing with dolls, other toys, reading books). So completely unlike her usual self.
This was after a full-on screaming tantrum last night before bedtime because she didn't want to pick up a set of toys she'd been playing with (which are now in time-out).
I am beginning to think she has actually hit some new development level -- she seems a bit more articulate, cognitively a bit further along than she was just a week ago, just plain different somehow. She'd been an absolute beast the last few days before this.
Just now, I remembered that both Hannah and Emily had periods of being absolutely horrible, bratty and out-of-control (at least for them) right before they'd hit some new stage of development. Even as babies, it seemed like they were extra difficult right before they did something like sitting up, walking, learning new words. I suppose there is a chance that we hit a difficult period that coincided with the big change of preschool starting?
I still am kicking myself for starting her in Montessori, since obviously she has a totally different attitude about this new school and there is a chance she might not have gotten this clingy separation-anxiety regressive behavior going if she had simply STARTED at her current school. Argh.
It was starting to remind me of colic -- I remember getting bitterly resentful, angry and almost contemptuous of people whose babies actually slept some of the time and didn't need to be nursed literally 24/7. I couldn't see straight, I was so envious. I have felt the same way recently about three-year-olds who separate easily. It's amazing how fast I lose perspective.
For some reason, I decided at the last minute that we should get a different kind of snack (she was supposed to bring cereal bars, since she was the snack person today, and I had brought some hippy-dippy organic ones which we like but which I feared most of her classmates would not). Going to the store distracted her and got her all excited, and focused her attention on her role as "snack person" which helped.
So we got to school and there was a bit of very minor intermittent whining. We were a bit early so sat in the hall and looked over the Scholastic Books order forms, went potty (not in the hall, obviously), chatted with a couple of other moms and kids.
She went right into the classroom once Mrs. J opened the door. I walked in with her, gave her a kiss, she started up with the "I want mommy" but it lasted about two seconds, with no actual crying. Mrs. J immediately redirected her to some new activity and apparently it was perfect from that moment on. I arrived a bit early for pick-up and she was completely into the activity, laughing, having a blast.
She ran out with a huge grin, all excited. "Mommy! I didn't cry today!" So I made a big fuss over how great she did, took her out for ice cream, and we proceeded to have a really terrific day together.
It was ODD -- I did a lot of cleaning and throwing out all the junk mail and random chores, and she was absolutely wonderful about just going about her business, entertaining herself (playing with dolls, other toys, reading books). So completely unlike her usual self.
This was after a full-on screaming tantrum last night before bedtime because she didn't want to pick up a set of toys she'd been playing with (which are now in time-out).
I am beginning to think she has actually hit some new development level -- she seems a bit more articulate, cognitively a bit further along than she was just a week ago, just plain different somehow. She'd been an absolute beast the last few days before this.
Just now, I remembered that both Hannah and Emily had periods of being absolutely horrible, bratty and out-of-control (at least for them) right before they'd hit some new stage of development. Even as babies, it seemed like they were extra difficult right before they did something like sitting up, walking, learning new words. I suppose there is a chance that we hit a difficult period that coincided with the big change of preschool starting?
I still am kicking myself for starting her in Montessori, since obviously she has a totally different attitude about this new school and there is a chance she might not have gotten this clingy separation-anxiety regressive behavior going if she had simply STARTED at her current school. Argh.
It was starting to remind me of colic -- I remember getting bitterly resentful, angry and almost contemptuous of people whose babies actually slept some of the time and didn't need to be nursed literally 24/7. I couldn't see straight, I was so envious. I have felt the same way recently about three-year-olds who separate easily. It's amazing how fast I lose perspective.
9.29.2005
In other news
$850 later, we now have a new electrical system in our house. It seems that the outside connection box was completely corroded on one side (moisture leakage) with the result that one of the two sockets was actually burned and melted, and the other side was probably a few hours from failing as well. Not only that, but someone who owned the house in years past obviously had a new breaker box put in but kept the old line, splicing it together very crudely, so it was just a matter of time before the whole thing blew. Of course, we also had a new breaker box installed in the basement.
However, it is nice not to have extension cords snaked all over the kitchen (refrigerator and microwave) and Emily's room (nightlight, fan, CD player), and I also particularly enjoy turning lights and appliances on and off and not having the house brown out.
And preschool is going well. Wednesday I couldn't stay; there was some crying on the way in and for about 10 minutes after class started, then the rest of the day was happy and fun, with her running out smiling, bouncing up and down and excited when school was out. We have a winner, thank God.
Of course, after getting the electrical problem fixed, and coming to the realization that the school problem was essentially fixed, I thought to myself earlier today, "God, I wonder what's next?" Sure enough, up pops the e-mail about Christopher Stacy.
So I wonder what's next after THAT? I don't think I can take much more.
But like I said, it's. always. something. ALways.
However, it is nice not to have extension cords snaked all over the kitchen (refrigerator and microwave) and Emily's room (nightlight, fan, CD player), and I also particularly enjoy turning lights and appliances on and off and not having the house brown out.
And preschool is going well. Wednesday I couldn't stay; there was some crying on the way in and for about 10 minutes after class started, then the rest of the day was happy and fun, with her running out smiling, bouncing up and down and excited when school was out. We have a winner, thank God.
Of course, after getting the electrical problem fixed, and coming to the realization that the school problem was essentially fixed, I thought to myself earlier today, "God, I wonder what's next?" Sure enough, up pops the e-mail about Christopher Stacy.
So I wonder what's next after THAT? I don't think I can take much more.
But like I said, it's. always. something. ALways.
I'm stunned
Not in the Sybermom sense, but in the gobsmacked/astonished/taken aback sense.
I've been communicating with a mediator, who specializes in what are called "restorative justice" conferences. Basically, the idea is that one of these days, we (or maybe just I) would sit down with Christopher Stacy, the young man who rear-ended us in the accident, and get a chance to talk face to face. As difficult as it would be, I want to do this because I need him to tell me, person to person, that he is sorry about what he did and for him to take complete responsibility for it. I also want to tell him a couple of things, in particular that I want him to remember this always and to honor Hannah's memory by not hiding this from anyone, by using his experience hopefully to educate others, perhaps including his own children, about what can happen when you drive recklessly or negligently.
Anyway, the mediator just e-mailed me. We've been trying to get something set up for this fall. It seems that Christopher's grandfather (who for the most part raised him) just died this week; that Christopher's father, a mechanic with Northwest Airlines, lost his job and they're on the verge of losing their home, and that Christopher and his girlfriend (I assume it's the same girlfriend he had two years ago) are going to have a baby next month. Oh, and that Christopher himself was laid off over a year ago and hasn't been able to find a permanent job since.
So the mediator has said that if I want to go ahead with the conference now, it's my decision and everyone will cooperate, but that under the circumstances, his concern is that Christopher will be unable to fully focus and participate on the issues at hand. He thinks we should wait six months to a year. He did make the point that after becoming a father and having the time to bond with his own child, Christopher might have a better understanding of the magnitude of our loss, and perhaps be better able to own what he did.
I am stunned. For some reason, the idea that he's going to have a child really hurts.
Why does he get to have one when ours was taken away? When he isn't capable of supporting the child or taking proper care of the child; when he hasn't even bothered to make the commitment of marriage to the child's mother; when he can't even get his own life in order? Why was our child, who was wanted, brought into an established and intact relationship, who was given every advantage and cared for with complete dedication and deliberation, not able to stay with us but he can just go pop out a kid with a girlfriend?
WHY????
It isn't fair. It just is not fucking fair at all. I don't even know if we will have another child. I want Hannah back, and I want Emily to have another sibling, but I'm still emotionally not ready to have a child right now; I'm getting older and it's getting riskier and more difficult even if I were ready; in fact I don't even know if it's possible because we still don't know if the vasectomy reversal was successful. We have everything in the world to give to a child, but we are too careful and too caring to just willy-nilly bring one into the world until we KNOW we can do it with our whole heart. There is every indication, in fact, that we won't have another child at all because we aren't going to do it if we can't do it properly.
Meanwhile, he has nothing going for him, and he just gets to start a family, just like that?
I am sorry that he lost his grandfather. I am also sorry about his and his father's employment woes. But he does NOT deserve to become a father right now. Jon is the one who should be the father of two alive and well daughters.
I've been communicating with a mediator, who specializes in what are called "restorative justice" conferences. Basically, the idea is that one of these days, we (or maybe just I) would sit down with Christopher Stacy, the young man who rear-ended us in the accident, and get a chance to talk face to face. As difficult as it would be, I want to do this because I need him to tell me, person to person, that he is sorry about what he did and for him to take complete responsibility for it. I also want to tell him a couple of things, in particular that I want him to remember this always and to honor Hannah's memory by not hiding this from anyone, by using his experience hopefully to educate others, perhaps including his own children, about what can happen when you drive recklessly or negligently.
Anyway, the mediator just e-mailed me. We've been trying to get something set up for this fall. It seems that Christopher's grandfather (who for the most part raised him) just died this week; that Christopher's father, a mechanic with Northwest Airlines, lost his job and they're on the verge of losing their home, and that Christopher and his girlfriend (I assume it's the same girlfriend he had two years ago) are going to have a baby next month. Oh, and that Christopher himself was laid off over a year ago and hasn't been able to find a permanent job since.
So the mediator has said that if I want to go ahead with the conference now, it's my decision and everyone will cooperate, but that under the circumstances, his concern is that Christopher will be unable to fully focus and participate on the issues at hand. He thinks we should wait six months to a year. He did make the point that after becoming a father and having the time to bond with his own child, Christopher might have a better understanding of the magnitude of our loss, and perhaps be better able to own what he did.
I am stunned. For some reason, the idea that he's going to have a child really hurts.
Why does he get to have one when ours was taken away? When he isn't capable of supporting the child or taking proper care of the child; when he hasn't even bothered to make the commitment of marriage to the child's mother; when he can't even get his own life in order? Why was our child, who was wanted, brought into an established and intact relationship, who was given every advantage and cared for with complete dedication and deliberation, not able to stay with us but he can just go pop out a kid with a girlfriend?
WHY????
It isn't fair. It just is not fucking fair at all. I don't even know if we will have another child. I want Hannah back, and I want Emily to have another sibling, but I'm still emotionally not ready to have a child right now; I'm getting older and it's getting riskier and more difficult even if I were ready; in fact I don't even know if it's possible because we still don't know if the vasectomy reversal was successful. We have everything in the world to give to a child, but we are too careful and too caring to just willy-nilly bring one into the world until we KNOW we can do it with our whole heart. There is every indication, in fact, that we won't have another child at all because we aren't going to do it if we can't do it properly.
Meanwhile, he has nothing going for him, and he just gets to start a family, just like that?
I am sorry that he lost his grandfather. I am also sorry about his and his father's employment woes. But he does NOT deserve to become a father right now. Jon is the one who should be the father of two alive and well daughters.
9.27.2005
Cautiously optimistic
It seems my plan to put her into a more laid-back, play-based preschool might just work. Emily is now in a different preschool -- the more traditional kind, with classes grouped by age (3's, 4's), only 2x/week for 3's, more play-based, much smaller class size, more group/directed activity. Her first day was Monday. Despite the teacher not really wanting me to stay (I like this teacher and I do feel that she respects my point of view, but she insists that in her 20 years of experience as a teacher, it is better for the parent NOT to stay), I got the opportunity because the mom who was going to be there and help with the baking project had to bail, so of course I very sweetly offered to pitch in instead. She needed the help, so she had to let me stay. Emily did great for the hour I spent there -- she didn't cling to me at all, but jumped right in, participated, interacted with the teacher, like she'd been going to school all her life.
The teacher sent me to wash up the baking stuff and suggested I use that as my exit. This was one hour into the class. Of course, the second I walked out, she started crying and screaming. I went and quickly washed up all the stuff, then parked myself in the hall (out of sight/sound) and waited. It took about 20 minutes for the full-on crying to stop and another 10 for the intermittent crying to stop, and then for the next hour she had a *blast* again. Totally participating, laughing with the other kids, joining in conversations. When class ended she came running out, with a huge smile and jumping up and down. She was so proud of herself! I made a big deal out of it too, and took her to the mall to have pizza with her friend (Gretchen's son Andrew), and also surprised her with a (dollar store) toy as a surprise treat for doing well at school. This morning she asked to go back to school -- in fact she didn't really want to leave yesterday -- and was glad when I told her that we would go again tomorrow.
I can't believe how great I feel about this.
So anyway, Gretchen and I hung out the rest of the afternoon while the kids played, and celebrated in our usual way -- eating popcorn, reading trashy mags (People, Us, and In Touch), drinking pop, and vegetating in total silence. This is also how we mourn or express rage and frustration with life. It seems to work well for all occasions. Anyway, I had worked my way through all three magazines and was sitting, burping contentedly on the couch, and chose that moment to remark to Gretchen how perfect life was at that moment: we were free to vegetate and read trash and ingest empty carbs at will, the kids were playing, entertained, safe and occupied, and life was great.
Two minutes later Emily and Andrew came up from the basement. Emily has, in her hand, a sippy cup which at first appears to be filled with some kind of dark chocolaty milk substance, but upon further examination, it was probably EXTREMELY fermented old soymilk. I'm talking probably close to a year old, reeking of ammonia, disgusting. We asked her if she'd had a sip and she said that she had. So we immediately called Poison Control and described it. They said if she'd had a large sip of it she likely would have vomited immediately and certainly been distressed, and she wasn't, so we're guessing that she probably only had a drop, if that, and immediately stopped.
If I had a way to put in a .wav file of the Curb Your Enthusiasm theme song, I'd insert it here.
It was still a great day, though.
Now, if only the power to half of our house's electrical circuits would stop intermittently cutting itself off. Two electricians later, we still haven't figured out what's wrong.
It's. Always. Something.
The teacher sent me to wash up the baking stuff and suggested I use that as my exit. This was one hour into the class. Of course, the second I walked out, she started crying and screaming. I went and quickly washed up all the stuff, then parked myself in the hall (out of sight/sound) and waited. It took about 20 minutes for the full-on crying to stop and another 10 for the intermittent crying to stop, and then for the next hour she had a *blast* again. Totally participating, laughing with the other kids, joining in conversations. When class ended she came running out, with a huge smile and jumping up and down. She was so proud of herself! I made a big deal out of it too, and took her to the mall to have pizza with her friend (Gretchen's son Andrew), and also surprised her with a (dollar store) toy as a surprise treat for doing well at school. This morning she asked to go back to school -- in fact she didn't really want to leave yesterday -- and was glad when I told her that we would go again tomorrow.
I can't believe how great I feel about this.
So anyway, Gretchen and I hung out the rest of the afternoon while the kids played, and celebrated in our usual way -- eating popcorn, reading trashy mags (People, Us, and In Touch), drinking pop, and vegetating in total silence. This is also how we mourn or express rage and frustration with life. It seems to work well for all occasions. Anyway, I had worked my way through all three magazines and was sitting, burping contentedly on the couch, and chose that moment to remark to Gretchen how perfect life was at that moment: we were free to vegetate and read trash and ingest empty carbs at will, the kids were playing, entertained, safe and occupied, and life was great.
Two minutes later Emily and Andrew came up from the basement. Emily has, in her hand, a sippy cup which at first appears to be filled with some kind of dark chocolaty milk substance, but upon further examination, it was probably EXTREMELY fermented old soymilk. I'm talking probably close to a year old, reeking of ammonia, disgusting. We asked her if she'd had a sip and she said that she had. So we immediately called Poison Control and described it. They said if she'd had a large sip of it she likely would have vomited immediately and certainly been distressed, and she wasn't, so we're guessing that she probably only had a drop, if that, and immediately stopped.
If I had a way to put in a .wav file of the Curb Your Enthusiasm theme song, I'd insert it here.
It was still a great day, though.
Now, if only the power to half of our house's electrical circuits would stop intermittently cutting itself off. Two electricians later, we still haven't figured out what's wrong.
It's. Always. Something.
9.22.2005
Things are settling down
So, let's see...
1. Preschool went from bad to worse. Emily cried more every day, until this past Monday when she started crying when I turned the corner to go down the street to the school -- up til then she'd at least been happy when she got there. A lot of long boring conversations with her teacher later, we decide to pull her out, although her teacher feels like we should try again in Nov. or Dec.
I desperately want her to have the academic advantages of the Montessori curriculum but don't think the class structure really works for Emily's personality, and I have some deep problems with the parent board of the school (long boring story which I'll spare you).
So instead, my plan is to put her into a more "traditional" preschool (lots of group activity, circle time, more play-based, and only 2 days/week, with a smaller class), see how that goes, and then maybe, but probably not, reconsider Montessori next fall when she's 4. Getting her out of there was a huge relief.
2. I was able to switch meds -- I'm now on Lexapro -- and the difference is incredible. Not that I'm exactly happy, but I'm no longer constantly angry/irritated/impatient/wanting to die. I am patient with Emily and I can cope with life in general, which frees up energy to deal with the stuff that needs to be dealt with in other areas.
3. All 3 of us have had colds -- Emily first, then me, and now Jon.
4. Had bloodwork re-checked, as followup from June. My cholesterol is HIGHER, and apparently my thyroid is on the outs. What the fuck? How did I become middle aged all of a sudden? I really don't understand the cholesterol thing especially, because we've made a really good effort with our diet, but apparently not good enough. I haven't been exercising, since about mid-August, and I've been completely stressed/depressed/burned out, which I can't help but think has something to do with why my body is starting to function less well.
The thyroid thing is weird, too. I do know women tend to have problems with this more than men, especially after having children, but I wonder what effects diet, stress, exercise or other factors might have in it as well?
I hate that all my medical care is so fragmented -- the primary care doc doesn't talk to the midwife doesn't talk to the therapist, although the therapist at least works with the psychiatrist.
Also, when I was given the bad news about my cholesterol, they recommended "dietary changes". I asked them if they could be more specific and they said, "Well, there's Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, etc."
I pointed out that in theory I could eat my allotted calories/points/whatever all in hamburgers, bacon or cheese, which would still cause me to lose weight if I kept within my allotment but would probably kill me rapidly in terms of cardiovascular health.
I asked if they could possibly refer me to a nutritionist -- I may be a foodie, and well-versed in nutrition, but what I need help with is the practical aspect of putting together a new way of eating, factoring in what I like, what's good vs. bad for me, and my diminished energy and time for cooking.
I'm sure you can guess -- insurance doesn't pay for a nutritionist. Perish the thought! However, if I do have a heart attack and become a candidate for quintuple bypass, they'll cough it right up (after some amount of paperwork and phone calls). Never mind that several sessions of nutritional counseling do not even begin to approach a fraction of the cost of a bypass operation and acute cardiac care. What the fuck? How fucked up is that?
5. I'm very slowly, but surely, going through all of our file cabinets/boxes of papers/junk and sorting things out, and finding some cool stuff -- cartoons and sketches of mine, other art projects, stuff from the past (my hospital invoice from delivering Hannah, for example). It's fun and therapeutic, but my time is limited right now since all my morning free time got hosed with the Montessori debacle, and I'm not sure yet how the other school will work out.
Not much else interesting (not that the preceding was actually interesting) to report. My sinuses are doing terrible things right now, so I'll sign off.
1. Preschool went from bad to worse. Emily cried more every day, until this past Monday when she started crying when I turned the corner to go down the street to the school -- up til then she'd at least been happy when she got there. A lot of long boring conversations with her teacher later, we decide to pull her out, although her teacher feels like we should try again in Nov. or Dec.
I desperately want her to have the academic advantages of the Montessori curriculum but don't think the class structure really works for Emily's personality, and I have some deep problems with the parent board of the school (long boring story which I'll spare you).
So instead, my plan is to put her into a more "traditional" preschool (lots of group activity, circle time, more play-based, and only 2 days/week, with a smaller class), see how that goes, and then maybe, but probably not, reconsider Montessori next fall when she's 4. Getting her out of there was a huge relief.
2. I was able to switch meds -- I'm now on Lexapro -- and the difference is incredible. Not that I'm exactly happy, but I'm no longer constantly angry/irritated/impatient/wanting to die. I am patient with Emily and I can cope with life in general, which frees up energy to deal with the stuff that needs to be dealt with in other areas.
3. All 3 of us have had colds -- Emily first, then me, and now Jon.
4. Had bloodwork re-checked, as followup from June. My cholesterol is HIGHER, and apparently my thyroid is on the outs. What the fuck? How did I become middle aged all of a sudden? I really don't understand the cholesterol thing especially, because we've made a really good effort with our diet, but apparently not good enough. I haven't been exercising, since about mid-August, and I've been completely stressed/depressed/burned out, which I can't help but think has something to do with why my body is starting to function less well.
The thyroid thing is weird, too. I do know women tend to have problems with this more than men, especially after having children, but I wonder what effects diet, stress, exercise or other factors might have in it as well?
I hate that all my medical care is so fragmented -- the primary care doc doesn't talk to the midwife doesn't talk to the therapist, although the therapist at least works with the psychiatrist.
Also, when I was given the bad news about my cholesterol, they recommended "dietary changes". I asked them if they could be more specific and they said, "Well, there's Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, etc."
I pointed out that in theory I could eat my allotted calories/points/whatever all in hamburgers, bacon or cheese, which would still cause me to lose weight if I kept within my allotment but would probably kill me rapidly in terms of cardiovascular health.
I asked if they could possibly refer me to a nutritionist -- I may be a foodie, and well-versed in nutrition, but what I need help with is the practical aspect of putting together a new way of eating, factoring in what I like, what's good vs. bad for me, and my diminished energy and time for cooking.
I'm sure you can guess -- insurance doesn't pay for a nutritionist. Perish the thought! However, if I do have a heart attack and become a candidate for quintuple bypass, they'll cough it right up (after some amount of paperwork and phone calls). Never mind that several sessions of nutritional counseling do not even begin to approach a fraction of the cost of a bypass operation and acute cardiac care. What the fuck? How fucked up is that?
5. I'm very slowly, but surely, going through all of our file cabinets/boxes of papers/junk and sorting things out, and finding some cool stuff -- cartoons and sketches of mine, other art projects, stuff from the past (my hospital invoice from delivering Hannah, for example). It's fun and therapeutic, but my time is limited right now since all my morning free time got hosed with the Montessori debacle, and I'm not sure yet how the other school will work out.
Not much else interesting (not that the preceding was actually interesting) to report. My sinuses are doing terrible things right now, so I'll sign off.
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