Bus Stop Prayers for Friday

 Dear God,

We did it! We made it to Friday!

Thank you for getting us through a week of doctor appointments, swim classes, book fairs, broken Crome books, and deodorant reminders (so many reminders!).

Please bring them home safely. 

Let the weekend nurture their bodies and souls.

Please grant the teachers rest from this weighty responsibility given to them. 

God, please prepare everyone to do this again on Monday.

Amen 

Bus Stop Prayers

 This morning as I was watching Luke get on the bus, I said my typical prayer for him. Y'all, some days it's hard to watch my baby get on the bus. I thought if someone published a book called Bus Stop Prayers, I would buy it. And then I thought, well, I could write these prayers. Kate Bowler can't do everything.

Warning for spicy language. 

A Prayer For After the Unspeakable Happens, Again

Dear Lord, 

Please. Just Please. 

Protect these babies. Bless this bus driver, help them safety deliver these children to school.

Please bless every single adult in this school who will stand in harm's way for these children. Lord, please don't ever let this become a reality.

Lord, it's a long shot, but please keep the children oblivious to the dangers around them, for now. Please allow them a little more innocence in this crazy world.

And Lord, please get our lawmakers get off their fucking asses and DO something about this. Children shouldn't fear gun violence in school. 

Amen.

Nice

     For the past week or two, I've been thinking about niceness. What does it mean to be nice? When do you need to be nice? Why are we conditioned to be nice? When is it ok to throw nice under the bus?

    In the past two weeks, my general disposition to niceness has been challenged. See, in addition to being nice, I'm also an advocate for myself and my children. Sometimes being nice and being an advocate are in direct opposition to each other. I was in situations in which people I was not able to physically distance myself from refused to wear their mask or other protective gear correctly. First, I politely, NICELY, pointed out the problem, hoping that it was an accidental lapse. When I received push back, I pushed back too. I was no longer remotely interested in being nice. We tired nice Katie and now you're dealing with Katie who Firmly Enforces Boundaries.

    I was reflecting on where I learned this doctrine of niceness. I think it was strongly imposed upon me in grade school, and because I was a compliant child (not so much as an adult) I took this message of niceness to heart. There was a child in my class who had been removed from their family of origin due to abuse. They were still unpacking all of this trauma in fourth grade. Probably as a result of this trauma, this child acted as a bully and sometimes picked on me. The teachers and my parents knew that this child was processing trauma. I did not. I was asked to sympathize with this student. Looking at this situation as an adult, I see it differently. But as a child, all I saw was that adults were asking me to be nice to my bully. While I am certainly over the experience now and say a prayer for them whenever I think of them, that's an awful message to send to a child. Be nice to those who abuse you.

    As a result of this indoctrination of niceness, it's taken me a long time to find my voice. I remember one of the first times I pushed back was in the hospital after Doug was born. I had a nurse in training who was not remotely offering appropriate and safe care. After several attempts to correct this situation, I told her not to return to my room. Since finding my voice, I've used it to push back against abusive behavior, non-inclusive environments, and unfair rules. 

One of my take aways from all of this is teaching my kids to speak up. I don't want them to be compliant because they are afraid of speaking up and making people uncomfortable.  I am trying to teach them appropriate boundaries for themselves. I'm also trying to teach them to respect the boundaries of others. 

I feel like niceness is the lubricant that helps our society function. Just make sure you're not using it to spackle over something ugly.

Love in the Time of Covid

I have eight eggs in my refrigerator. No, this is not a plea for more eggs, but I have always had the luxury of not knowing precisely how much food I have on hand. Needless to say, it does cause anxiety. If nothing else comes from this, I hope more Americans understand the plight of those who have food insecurity.

My anxiety was really bad yesterday. When I get anxious, it manifests as irritation and anger. I had to give myself a time out last night. The kids are ALWAYS here now, omnipresent. I cannot get a break from their physical proximity. But I went into my room, turned off the lights, and laid down and did one of the breathing exercises on my fitbit for the first time. I apologized to the kids. A lot. We discussed better ways of living with each other. I made up "Kindness Cards" for them to earn when they do something especially thoughtful for one another. The cards can be traded in for 5 minutes of device time, they can use a bunch at once or one at a time. It DOES seem to be working.

 We came inside from being outside for over an hour. The kids had been riding their scooter and bike around for 50 minutes. I really needed a break. Luke, of course, barged into the bathroom to ask for help with our Lego balloon car experiment. I was done. So, instead of becoming impatient, I set him a timer, told him that I needed a few minutes to do things for myself, wash my face, take some meds and get a drink. When the timer went off, I'd be ready to help him. It worked for him. He knew that I WAS going to get back to him and that it would only be a few minutes. So I do recommend it.

I'm having trouble thinking about the future and what may yet come. I have no idea. I'm planning more curriculum for the kids. Doug and I both have a passion for early American history, so I'm actually looking forward into digging into that with him. But, it's lots of waiting. How are you and yours coping?

Day 1

Unprecedented is a word that has been thrown around so much the last three years, but it continues to apply. Day one of Official Social Distancing has been calm so far. I decided to make up a loose schedule for the kids to preserve both continuity and sanity. I think we did pretty well.

We started off later than I had planned. Luke came into my room at 3:30 in the morning to say that his tummy hurt. I was prepared for the worst and nervous about him being on the new bed. I decided it was probably acid re-flux from post nasal drip and gave him a tums, which he said was spicy. I do not know. Anyway, so I slept in a bit because I was up with Luke for a while on top of my anxious insomnia.

The first thing we did this morning was math, reading, and writing workbooks.
Luke practiced his name and address.

I used a trick from my old job, magic stones.  Each time the kids did something helpful or a good job, they got a stone in their jar. Every time they had to be redirected, I got to take one back. The stakes are high. Whoever has the most stones by Saturday afternoon gets to choose our evening movie! I'm really pulling for Doug here honestly, because I CANNOT watch 'Planes Fire & Rescue' again.

These Star Wars workbooks are great. I don't have any action shots of Doug working because he did most of his work independently.

Counting and a number line! We're working on counting to thirty.

We had a bit of a break and did a puzzle. I swept and mopped the kitchen floor last week for this very reason. Luke was pretty excited. He did have to be redirected a few times back to the puzzle, so I see where the ADHD might be.

We had a nice family lunch together since Jeff is home now too. After lunch, Doug and I began to work again on his 'God & Family' cub scout badge. I think it might take us into next week if we break each section into halves. He is learning a lot though and it is fun to actually teach him about the bible. He asks very good questions.

 After lunch we did PE/recess/get the hell out of the house. Today I set up an obstacle course. The kids each had three turns and ran it timed. Luke flew through the tunnel, which Doug had to basically pull on and off like a dress (it was HYSTERICAL) but lost time over all because his legs are so short.

 Then we got their bike and scooter out and they rode around for a bit. We were outside for an hour overall, with the goal in mind of wearing them out. I think I over achieved there, because Luke was just so DONE by bed time.

We came back inside for some arts and crafts. Luke used markers to color a wood craft from  Michael's that has a battery operated candle in it. Doug opted to start something on canvas.

Our science experiment today was brief. We put pepper in water to simulate germs and then soap on their fingers to simulate how soap repels germs. I think they got it and it seemed super timely. 

We did some yoga on you tube, kid's cosmic yoga. They picked a Pokemon themed one tonight. They did pretty well. They got a bit rowdy towards the end, but after how stressed we've all been, I can't really blame them.

Overall, I think I managed to strike the right balance between work and leisure and fun today. They didn't spend the day in front of screens (absolutely NO judgement here, you do you) and they didn't try to kill each other and I didn't have an urge to force choke anyone. This is going to be our structure until we hear otherwise now. I don't imagine this will stop soon. Be safe and well!

Saying Good Bye to Mommy Regrets

        Every parent feels hassled these days. PTA meetings, soccer practice, cub scouts, double ear infections, homework, and the list goes on and on. It's so hard not to succumb to the every day stress of simply living your life.

      As a parent with chronic illness, the challenge is even harder. I have to accomplish things AND do it in such a way that I'm not desperately over tired the next day, so I can get up and do it all AGAIN. It's hard some times. I am however, proud to say, that I have hauled myself out of bed and gotten Doug to school everyday he needed to go. He has never missed a day of school due to my illness. It may not seem like a big deal to some people, but some days the personal sacrifice is huge.

     And that's why I'm cutting myself some slack. Back in September, when my endometriosis pain started becoming so bad that it was painful to walk, I decided that I would 'treat myself' and drive to school rather than walk in the mornings. I have also decided I will pick him up in the car when it rains as the logistics of walking a toddler to school, in the rain, are insane. We have bought a huge box of chicken pot pies from Costco to have on nights when I'm not up to making dinner. We also have frozen pasta for the same reason. Today, I decided to treat myself to the five dollar surcharge and pick up my groceries at the store instead of shopping for them in the rain. Good use of five dollars and it will save me quite a bit of energy and precious time.

     Letting go of things you haven't accomplished is difficult. I had bought some crafts for Doug and I to do over the holidays, but due to a long, awful, migraine cluster, they didn't happen. I also bought lots of dry ingredients for cookies I never baked. Instead of feeling anxious about these things, I've decided to just let it go. No point dwelling on what cannot be changed. My energy is better spent else where for sure.

   So I think in 2017, I'm going to give myself more license to cut myself some slack. Let the clean laundry sit in the hallway for a day. Let the kitchen floor go longer between moppings. Stock the freezer with meals to make for when I'm unable to. So cut yourself some slack too! Have a glass of wine and watch some tv on the couch tonight instead of paying the bills.

Shifting Gears

So I've been in a nasty flare up, since June. For whatever reason, my endometriosis has been pissing everything off in my pelvis. It makes it difficult and uncomfortable to sleep, so naturally that leads to a flare up of my fibromyalgia. Now there's pain from my fibro, which also makes it difficult to sleep, which leads to... more pain. It's a nasty cycle, and because of my endo involvement, I'm having a hell of a time breaking out of it. Even my physical therapist and neurologist are getting frustrated by this.

I've been in denial, somewhat, about the length and severity of this flare up. I finally realized the other day that so many of my recent daily frustrations stem from the fact that I'm trying to live like I'm NOT in a flare up. So I realized that I need to retool things, down shift to help me get through this. I know that there have been relationships I've been neglecting, and it hasn't been personal, it's been an attempt to save my energy for other things. And unfortunately, there's going to be a lot more of that for the time being.

The good news is that I feel like I have finally reached the bottom of the pit of despair, which means there's only one direction left to go, up! This past weekend was difficult. I had a treatment in the doctor's office on Friday which at first seemed promising, but then seems to have failed. I was also given an increased dosage of one of my medications, which the cost of is now astronomical. I can afford it, but I choose not to spend an absurd amount of money on it (what I had been paying for a three month supply is now the cost of only one month). Luckily, Jeff realized that I was stuck in this pit and threw down a ladder and climbed in after me. I think I'm going to be able to make it out, again. Because that's what you do when you live with chronic illness, you keep climbing out of the same pit, over and over gain, because you have to.

Self care is important, be well!

The Quiet Time Bag

          Four o'clock in the afternoon seems to be the witching hour around here. Luke is usually down for a nap. Doug and I have typically just finished his homework. I am usually exhausted by this point in the day, but need to start making dinner soon. And Doug is usually full of energy and wants to yell and run around the house. In case you don't live in the DC metro, we've had over two consecutive weeks of rain, so throwing Doug into the yard hasn't been an option much. I ended up losing what little control I had left with Doug by this point in the afternoon. After several days of this, I thought to myself, "I can do better. WE can do better." I just needed for inspiration to strike, and it did.

                                                

    I give you: The Quiet Time Bag. It. Is. Awesome. I'm really not over selling it. I found some things that Doug can do QUIETLY, in his room, for about half an hour. Thirty minutes is enough time that I can regroup, take a brief break, and start dinner. Jeff typically walks in the door not too long after, which is a huge help.
Anyway, in the bag we have a note, Colorforms, secret market reveal pads, sticker books, Spirograph, coloring pages, blank pages bound together in a binder (he loves this, for some reason). Doug loves the bag. He will ask for it all the time. I try to limit its use to those afternoon times and Saturday mornings. We already had some of those things (paper, Colorforms) and some I bought in the dollarish section of Target. I save some things to put in later and plan to rotate things in and out so Doug doesn't get bored.

The note I included:

 

I also made a sign to put up by the baby gate. You can see what Doug thought of it:


 

So far, I'm pretty happy with how the Quiet Time Bag is working out. I 'll have to keep it interesting to keep his attention, but I'm happy he's doing something creative. And most importantly, I'm glad he can be quiet and I don't have to yell.

Spend, Save, Give

      I wish I could take credit for this idea, but I can't and I don't remember where I first read/heard about it. Our pastor last Sunday gave a good sermon about tithing and fiscal responsibility, which jarred this idea about of my memory banks. So many adults struggle with money issues. We teach our children lots of things, but not routinely about money. So why not start some financial responsibility when they're young?

Anyway, the idea is simple. Get three jars (or in our case use one Batman bank we already have) and label one 'Spend' (Batman) one 'Save'  (although ''Save' seems more appropriate for Batman, no?) and the third 'Give'. I don't know how most people give their kids money, but at 4, I feel that Doug is a little young for an allowance. What does happen is this: I get change in my wallet. I do not like change in my wallet as it makes my wallet and then purse heavier to carry. So then usually at some point in the week, I dump all of my change out on the table and Doug runs in Golm like to collect it. Jeff will do the same thing too.

So the other night we emptied out Batman and explained the procedure to Doug. At the end of the year, Jeff will either open a savings account for Doug at his credit union or we'll stick the 'Save' money in his college fund. The 'Spend' money can be spent however Doug sees fit. He did mention wanting to save up for a Lego set (surprising). The 'Give' we'll give to a charity of Doug's choice at the end of Advent. Doug likes and has given to Ronald McDonald House in the past, so I imagine he'll pick that again. The 'Save' and 'Spend' jars got a pretty even distribution of coins. But you know what? Doug put the most in 'Give' (he's passionate about Ronald McDonald house, or as he calls it "for the sick kids in the hospital!!!". He's been very excited about this so far and I think this will be a good on going project for him.

Things I Care Passionately About

So, being pregnant I've discovered some things that I apparently care very passionately about, to the point of tears:

1. Raspberry Lemonade. I was trying to kick my soda habit and looking forward to making some raspberry lemonade and having a glass in the evening. I had bought two cans of mix at the store a few days ago in preparation. Fast forward to that evening, I could not find the cans of mix. I tore the house apart, looked in the car, everywhere. I'm guessing that pregnancy brain took over at the store and I left the bag with the mix in it there. Jeff comes in and tells me he'll get some tomorrow. I naturally began bawling because I had been looking forward to it ALL DAY. Jeff ended up making an 11 o'clock trip to WalMart to get some more. Life was good again.

2. Clean sheets. Every week of our marriage, on Sunday nights, Jeff and I always have the same discussion; "It's time to change the sheets, Jeff." "But we just changed them last week.". Every week for 7 years. It gets old. Anyway, the previous week we had to change the sheets on Wednesday. Doug had come in our room in the middle of the night because he had wet his bed. His shorts were wet and he was leaning up against the side of the bed. So the next morning, I changed our sheets too. I was willing to let the sheets stay on longer than normal because they were changed midweek. And I was tired as hell. So the next Saturday the sheets had been on our bed for a week and a half now. It was late and we had to get up early for church the next day, but I was really looking forward to sleeping on nice, clean sheets that night. Jeff, as usual, shared his resistance to the idea of changing the sheets. Being tired and hormonal, I couldn't take it anymore and burst into tears. Over sheets. It was one of those situations in which you're crying about something, but at the same time you know it's absolutely ridiculous. So naturally I start laughing while I'm crying. Anyway, it was effective, because we got the damn sheets changed.

3. Infant carrier car seats. After yesterday's ob appointment, I dragged Jeff to the baby supply store to check  out infant car seats. I hated Doug's with the fire of 1000 suns. It was heavy, clunky, awkward. My legs looked like bananas gone bad they were so bruised from the damn carrier knocking into them. I had seen these carriers when Doug was an infant with different shaped handles that allowed the parent schlepping the baby to hold the carrier in a more natural position. I don't know why, but no one seems to make them like that anymore. Anyway, the store had one model like this and the buckle was made out of plastic, not metal. We were disappointed. Then I started looking at all the carriers, trying to find one that weighed the least in the hopes that that would be helpful. They all weighed between 8 and 9 lbs. So, last night we dug out the old carrier and weighed it. It weighed 7.4 lbs. LESS than all the 'light weight models'. I burst into tears. It was like being told that the thing that felt like an Albatross around your neck was actually a Cardinal, so you should be grateful. The thing of it is is that because I have fibro, I tire easily. I get sore more easily and it takes longer to recover. So being told that the thing I already thought was unmanageable is actually lighter than any of the others was a bit crushing.

Jeff managed to calm me down. Part of it was that I was started to get sick when Doug was two months old, and it was just so hard to leave the house. He reminded me that this time we know what we're dealing with so I can get the meds to treat my fibro faster this time. He also reminded me that it took me a while to realize that I'd save energy by getting a combo diaper bag purse instead of carrying one of each. I have my eye on a Vera baby bag that also converts into a backpack. I'm also thinking of getting one of those snap and go dealie strollers for the car seat. So I have options, we just need to be creative about them.

I can't wait, and I'm sure Jeff agrees, for this hormonal roller coaster to be over!

Ps, Sarah Mclachlan, if I see your face on tv, consider the channel being switched!

Doug and Herbert

     Doug and Herbert go waaay back. I got the duck that I named Herbert at Doug's baby shower; he was a gift from my mother. He's a soft, small toy, so we gave him to Doug when he was pretty small. Quickly, Herbert became THE lovey. Which was great and all, except that the manufacturer doesn't make him anymore. The internet has been scoured by multiple people in this family, but to no avail. Because of that, Herbert is a bit of a shut in. He's not allowed to leave the house unless we go on vacation. That hasn't stopped Dug from loving him though.

    Doug's affection for Herbert is rather intense at times. I have to say, I love that relationship (except at bedtimes when we can't find Herbert. Then it really sucks). Herbert has gone from only being a source of comfort to a companion for adventure, like Calvin's Hobbes. And boy, do they have adventures.

I think here they might be in a hot air balloon. Or a train. Who knows? When Doug is playing by himself, Herbert is his favorite buddy.

      Another interesting aspect of the Doug/Herbert relationship is that Doug uses it to pretend about things that are concerning or upsetting to him (I feel like Mr. Rogers would give him a gold star here). Last week Doug overheard me scheduling his flu shot and promptly freaked out. A while later, Jeff came in and told me that Doug had gotten his doctor kit out and that Herbert had received quite a few flu shots. In the middle of the night when there's a thunder storm, Doug comes into our bed not because he's scared of the thunder, but because Herbert is.

   Herbert also brings out Doug's nurturing side. He takes care and cuddles Herbert when he's 'sick'. He sings to him and reads Herbert stories when it's time for Herbert to go to bed. Lately, Doug has been telling me stories of  when he was 'pregnant with Herbert' (there's so many things wrong with that statement, that I just let him have it).

   I will be very sad when Herbert's reign is over. I don't know how long we have, but I'm going to enjoy watching. Doug is very excited to help pick out a lovely for the new baby, he understands how important that relationship can be. I will always be grateful for Herbert. But we are totally buying three of the same lovey for the new baby.

Popcorn Reading List

The other day I was lounging on our couch in the basement, watching Doug and Jeff play. Directly across from me are two large bookcases. As they played, I looked at some of my favorite books on the shelves. So many books, some I haven't re-read in quite a while.  As I looked over the books, I was realizing the books had a few things in common. Being physical books, they were all purchased prior to Doug's birth. And while most of these books wouldn't be considered high literature, they were all decent reads, meaty, thick books with complex characters and plots. I'm sure many of them have been on the NY Times best seller lists, etc.

Then I began to think about the kinds of books on my Kindle. Sure, there are a few books like that, but not as many as I'd like and certainly not too many after Doug was born. I still read regularly. I will admit my reading took a hit during the first trimester when I was exhausted (making up for it in the bathroom though, I think).

As I began to ponder the issue and review what I've been reading in the past year, I realized that my reading selections tend to be books that are easily consumable. Books that are satisfying but have no intellectual value, like popcorn for your brain, delicious, but not nutritional. Last winter/spring I began reading romance books, for something to read. The characters aren't deep, the plot is always predictable and my brain doesn't have to do too much work. Easy for a tired brain. I probably didn't read much more than half a dozen of these books before I got tired of them and moved on.

I don't remember exactly how I stumbled into the next books I began reading, but it was sometime late last spring. To date, I've read probably close to a dozen Star Trek the Next Generation books. And by read, I mean devour. For a while I was confused by this new trend of mine. I'm not really a sci-fi reader. But then I realized it wasn't too difficult for my poor brain. It was drawing on an established list of characters with predictable reactions. The plots were much more involved than the romance novels and funnier, and more enjoyable.  For a while I was unhappy with this new literary fetish of mine, but then I realized it doesn't matter, I'm reading and it's enjoyable.

I did join a book club recently and I am sprinkling more 'literary' books into my reading. But right now, there's a crisis the Enterprise is facing, and I don't know if the crew will be able to save the day....

There Are No Merit Badges For Motherhood

       There are no merit badges for mothering. Really, there aren't. Unless there's some super secret underground Mommy Cult that I don't know about, and if there is, thank God I don't know about it.

       The other day I read the most ridiculous article about a drug free birth (I refuse to call it 'natural childbirth'). I don't think the idea of a drug free birth is ridiculous, indeed to each her own. It was the tone of the article that rankled. Three out of the four reasons the author gave that drug free birth was superior were plausible. Not ironclad reasons or only found in natural childbirth, but possible. Her fourth reason that drug free childbirth was 'awesome' was that it afforded the mom 'bragging rights'. Really? If you're bragging about something, you clearly feel superior to someone. If you feel superior about a drug free birth than you are suggesting that any other kind of birth is inferior. All kinds of things happen in a delivery room and the best laid plans can go to hell in a matter of minutes, trust me, Doug was an emergency c-section. The point is that my doctor and I made the best plan we could based on the situation at hand to get Doug out ALIVE. That is the goal of any birth.  A healthy mother and child. Period. Once Doug was born, I only felt insane relief and gratitude that he was alive. That's it. No regrets. I did not get a 'I Survived An Emergency C-Section' badge.

     Mothers beat up on each other for a variety of other reasons too. You have your breastfeeders who look down on formula feeders (and vice versa). Your stay-at-home moms who look down on those who work. Your cloth diaperers who radiate smugness to those who use disposables. The list can go on and on, wherever there are different parenting paths to take, there will always be tension.

    I'm going to let you in on a little secret here: Moms are making the best choices for themselves and their children that they can. Some mom's can't breastfeed. Some moms need medication. Some moms just plain don't want to. Some moms can't afford to stay at home. Some moms (gasp) love their careers. And I think we can all agree that people who cloth diaper are insane. Just kidding.

   No college is going to ask your kid how they were born. If they were bottle or breast fed. If they had a stay-at-home parent. Why? It doesn't matter by the time they're that age. You've already done a fabulous job of raising the child. So can we please stop tearing each other down for the choices we make?

Against the Grain

We've made some difficult decisions lately. I won't get into that here, but I'll only say that we did what we believed was right for our family. As I was considering our options this week, I began to remember some of the times I've had to make difficult decisions and the consequences of doing what I believe to be right. The following is one of my all time favorite stories.

Picture it:  April Fools day at a Catholic all girls school, a group of second semester freshmen going to their after lunch English class taught by a woman who was rumored to throw freshmen out the window. I'm pretty sure she never had a parking spot. She chose to park her broom in the closet in her room. Anyway, the girls got there early, as freshmen are wont to do. Some of them thought it would be absolutely hilarious to hide from the teacher in the near by stairwell. I am a fair judge of character, in my opinion, and I did not believe this teacher would be amused in the slightest. Not. At. All. Anyway, the girls decided to go and hide and I dithered a moment before deciding to go sit down in the classroom. I knew the teacher wouldn't be amused and I decided I just didn't want any part of it. A few other girls were unsure about the prank, but ultimately decided to go along with the group. A few minutes later the teacher entered the room, she looked around and asked me if we had class or not. I said or squeaked "yes". She asked me if I knew where my classmates went and I said no (I actually didn't know, the location of the staircase was picked before I got to the group). So she stormed off looking for the class. She found them very quickly and as I predicted, she was pretty pissed.

That incident became rather notorious. I imagine she is still telling freshmen about this group of girls that hid from her.

I've never been one to "just go along with the group".  It goes against the grain of my character.

Then & Now

      I always seem to have these profound personal revelations while we're at the Day Out with Thomas. Last year's revelation was about us being a family of only three. I decided that it would be ok if we never had another child. I've mostly made peace with that possibility. This year as we were waiting for our picture with Sir Topham Hatt, I was thinking about last year's picture. It's on my desk, so I see it regularly. I was wondering how much Jeff and I had changed since last year.

This is 2013's pic:

This is 2014, roughly a year later:

Jeff apparently really likes that shirt. I admit, the difference looks more dramatic with Jeff. He's lost 40 lbs since the first picture. I've lost nearly 30. Those jeans I'm wearing in the second picture are three sizes smaller, and the shirt is two sizes smaller. Jeff has yet to commit to buying new clothes. He did relent and let me buy him some new belts last summer. Sir Topham Hatt looks the same. 

I didn't really realize how much we've lost until I looked at these photos. The other night we went through our clothes. Many of my dresses and skirts had to be tossed into the donate piles because they were so big, all except my black dresses*. It was very freeing to toss (read: donate) so much stuff. Our closets are nice and roomy now. 

I have to admit this has been so much easier since we've done it together. We support and encourage each other. We help each other to make better food choices. And to split not so great food choices. We've also watched a lot of Star Trek together while riding our exercise bike. It's a chore sometimes, but most of the time it's fun. 

I'm looking forward to next year's picture with Sir Topham Hatt. 

*I have a thing about black dresses. I've saved them in case I ever do actually get pregnant and need to go to a funeral. Sounds ridiculous, right? Well, I went to two funerals and a wedding while I was pregnant with Doug. It could happen. And I'm not shelling out cash for a maternity dress. Highway robbery! End of aside

The Village

So Doug's been going to preschool at a local county's Parks and Recs program. He started in September for two days a week and has loved it. Half way through the spring he was going to age out of his class. Enrollment is done on a six week basis, it's a huge pain in the butt. So if we wanted him to continue, we'd have to put him in the next class up. We debated for a while about whether or not we wanted him to continue, but last week I realized that he really enjoys it and gets a lot out of it, so we enrolled him for six weeks in the next class.

One of the reasons Doug loved his class is because he adores his teacher, Ms. Beth. She's a maternal sort of woman and gets Doug pretty well. He can be some what quirky about things like finger paint. Any time we looked at preschool options for next year, Doug would ask, "Is this Ms. Beth's class?". So I was more than comfortable in letting him finish the year out with her.

We got to his first class of the new session this morning only to find out that our beloved Ms. Beth is not the teacher. I was instantly panicked, "How will Doug deal with this? Is he going to hate it?". I had promised Ms. Beth and she was not here. Luckily, the teacher's assistant was the same for both classes and Doug was comfortable with her. He seemed to be fairly calm, so I left.

I was so disappointed by this switch that I cried a bit in the car (ok, partly monthly hormones, but still). Aside from Doug's disappointment, I couldn't figure out why this was upsetting me so much. As I drove to get a much needed cup of coffee, it dawned on me. Ms. Beth has been the only stranger so far that I've entrusted Doug to. And I think that set up a bond between the three of us. Sure, Doug goes to his own Sunday school class and plays in the church nursery, but that's different. I know those women and so does Doug. Plus, I'm usually right nextdoor or down the hall. No big deal. But Ms. Beth was the first person I'd left my baby with for a few hours at a time. It was hard the first time and I think she helped us both through that transition.

Of course Doug was pretty nonchalant about the whole thing when I picked him up. I peeked in on him and saw him running a giraffe across the floor, clearly not a tortured soul. He was excited that he now gets to play on the 'big kid's playground'.

In retrospect, it was kind of a good lesson for him. He is blessed to have so many, wonderful and amazing people in his village. And sometimes those people move on. But they still helped a bit to make you who you are.

NFL Sundays

Once upon a time, I used to pity people who had to watch football games on Sundays. It takes at least a three hour chunk out of your weekend, you need to plan around it. And Monday night games? Be prepared to be exhausted Tuesday morning. And for what? To watch a bunch of overpaid men-children throw a ball and to see countless beer and car commercials? Seems ridiculous! 

That started changing for us last season. We had invited my Grandma over for dinner. Unbeknownst to me, it was the last game of the Skin's regular season. It may have been make or break for them to get into the play-offs (probably). Anyway, I realized that I was going to have to plan dinner around the game, that is unless I wanted to be written out of her will. So we did just that, I managed to time dinner for half time, and we recorded the game on our dvr, just in case. Doug loved it. He snuggled up with my Grandma on our couch and was riveted by the game. The next weekend, he was asking if we could watch some more football, so we watched the Redskins playoff game (Doug was seriously concerned about RGIII, watching him getting hurt and all). And then the next weekend he wanted to watch more football. The Redskins having been eliminated we decided to watch the Baltimore Ravens, and we watched them all the way to the superbowl. 

In the off season, we decided that we would primarily root for the Baltimore Ravens. Our county is after all a suburb of Baltimore rather than Washington. It also seemed fair. Jeff's family roots for the Kansas City Chiefs and mine for the Redskins. This seemed like a fair compromise, not favoring one family over the other. 

We had a nice time watching football as a family this season. We had some very relaxing Sundays. We'd get up and go to Sunday school and church and then come home and have lunch and watch the Ravens. No running around to the store or other errands. Just the three of us cheering on the Ravens and sometimes the Chiefs together. 

I learned a lot about football this year and grew to really like it. People who have known me most of my life now look at me like I have three heads when I start to talk about football. But it is an interesting game, not unlike chess in many ways. I am apparently also very loud when I watch football. On more than one occasion Doug has told me to stop yelling. I still have no idea what the point of an onside kick is though. 

I'm looking forward to watching the Super Bowl, just the three of us on the couch , with some yummy snacks. 

Maybe next year it'll be the Ravens or Chief's year.

One of the few times a Chiefs game was broadcast in our area. We got to watch the Chiefs and the Ravens back to back this day.

Advent Project

I had the dubious privilege of witnessing the most bizarre tantrum a few weeks ago. When we were at a pet store with my in-laws, my father-in-law gave Doug some change he had gotten back after he made his purchase. Doug took the change and headed back to the cash register area, looked around and then wailed, "There's no box!!!". We were all quite confused. I asked him what he meant. He explained, "There's no box, for the kids!". And then it dawned on me, "Like at McDonald's? When I give you my change for the kids in the hospital?". "YES!". I  told him that the pet store didn't have a box for that, but if he liked, we could drop it off the next time we were at McDonald's. He seemed to like that idea, but whined about it for a bit on the car ride home. I was finally at wits end with this and told him when we got home, I'd stick the change in an envelope and mail it to Ronald McDonald. He seemed to be satisfied with that.

I started thinking about it though and it seemed like this was an opportunity for one of those 'teachable moments'. When we got home I asked him instead if he's like to collect change until Christmas and then drop off a lot of change at once for Ronald McDonald House. He agree and we decorated an old bottle (with glitter glue, naturally). We've collected quite a bit of change and Doug is always very excited when Jeff and I give him some more. At some point tomorrow, we'll all go together and drop it off. I'm amazed at how excited Doug is about it and how well he's stuck with it. I think this is a nice Christmas tradition for us to adopt. I think we'll definitely pick a charity and do the same thing next year.

Stump the Doctor

Every few years it seems like my body likes to play a good game of 'Stump the Doctor'. I will present with a handful of symptoms, some of which can be neatly attributed to a specific diagnosis. I will also have a few other symptoms that don't quite fit and I'll also be missing a few factors that doctors deem key for a diagnosis of that particular condition. And I'll go from doctor to doctor, seeking answers and getting none, all the while suffering from an untreated condition.

 My all time favorite remains a diagnosis of possible gout from a previous primary doctor. She heard me say that my legs, among other things, hurt. She could find nothing else wrong and would not entertain my notion that it was in fact, fibromyalgia. I eventually found a doctor who also believed it was fibro and got treatment for it. But it was a long painful time. It's hard to be sick and suffering through an illness and then, on top of it, have doctors unable or unwilling to explore options. Now I get a kick out of the whole gout debacle. When I have an odd pain, I'll tell Jeff that it must be gout. "This feels like an ear infection, but it's probably gout of the ear.".

Well, it seemed lately that I'd developed uterine gout.* It started at least before January, but I specifically remember in January going to see my ob gyn about it. It's a large practice and I like most of the doctors, so I was comfortable seeing anyone there. I went in and complained that it had been six months since we started trying to get pregnant. I know, I know, they need at least a year before they'll do anything, but we got pregnant right away with Doug. I was scared to wash our clothes together after he was born. Anyway, mid cycle I was having some stabbing, aching pains. And please, I know all about Mittelschmerz** (mid cycle pain some women experience during ovulation, lasting at MOST two days). It was dismissed as normal and we were sent on our merry way. I went back to see another ob sometime that Spring, complaining of the same thing, except now the pain was lasting four days. I got another pat on the head and everything is fine.

So in July we came up against the magical one year of trying to conceive deadline. I went back to my ob and explained the situation and the pain again, which was still growing. I was having a LOT of pain mid-cycle and certain activities produced pain and I was having the same, dull ache and stabbing feeling on my period now too. My doctor sent me to a local (large) fertility clinic to get sorted out. We were hopeful that at last we'd get to the bottom of this.

The clinic, before talking to us, before doing any tests or looking at the MOUNDS of personal health histories we filled out, told us that our options were either IUI or IVF. We were a bit confused. We thought they would diagnose and FIX the fertility issue, not simply overcome it. It was somewhat like being told your house was going to have to be burned down to kill a small infestation of mice. Anyway, they couldn't find anything wrong with me and weren't willing to look into the now horrible pain I was having every month. It was a rather disappointing waste of time, but at least we didn't get $20k into it before finding out it wouldn't work. We're extremely blessed to have Doug, and we're ok if we end up being a family of three. So we weren't super interested in going that route.

I went back to my obgyn's office a total of three more times, seeing three more doctors trying to get to the bottom of the pain. One finally ordered a more detailed ultrasound to be done while I was in pain. It didn't show anything. The only thing the doctor could come up with is that the mid-cycle pain is setting off some inflammation and I'm sensitive to that. That doesn't explain why it gets progressively worse each month. The last time I went back, I ended up going on the pill. The doctor couldn't think of anything else to do for me. The pain was lasting nine days now, and my cycles were getting shorter, 25 days. I needed a breather from the pain and I just wanted to get through the holidays at this point. So, despite the fact that we're trying to get pregnant, I'm on the pill for the next three months.

Today I finally met a doctor who believed me when I said something was very wrong, and confirmed my suspicions. It seems likely that I have endometriosis. We won't know for sure unless a surgery is done to confirm it. Endometriosis doesn't show up on any scans. Some women with just a little bit of endo have extreme pain, while other with tons of endo have little to no pain. My symptoms didn't suggest 'classic endometriosis' as my doctors have been telling me. Unfortunately, their expertise is limited to pap smears, birthing babies, normal pregnancies and writing scripts for the pill. So I finally found a doctor who has expertise in dealing with endo and other disorders.

 It was such a sweet relief to have a doctor take me seriously. Right now the plan is to stay on the pill for a few months and then come off of it and see what happens. It's a possibility that I may have surgery in the spring. We'll just have to wait and see.

But it's so nice now to have a doctor on my side and to know I have options and to get a better grasp on what I'm up against!

It's also a comfort to know there are so many ladies out there with endometriosis. I've met a few in the past few months, and it's always nice to know you're not alone.

And thank you to everyone who has been supportive of me during this time, Jeff, Bridget, and my Mom who has watched Doug for about a 100 hours while I went to the doctors.

For a while, I contemplated taking in a show and tell of what my uterus felt like when I was in pain. Initially, I envisioned a grape fruit and my largest knitting needles. I decided though, that play doh and toothpicks were less messy. 

                           





*No, I don't think that's a real thing. And I don't want to know if it is. I'm not trying to belittle gout either.  I know it's a painful and horrible condition. I just think it's hilarious my doctor was so off target. You have to find some things funny or else you'll never get through them.

**I think more weird pains need to be given German names. I don't think people would make fun of PMS if it had a German sounding "I WILL KICK YOUR BUTT" name. Seriously. Mittelschmerz sounds like pain on steroids.

The Trade

Doug has managed to put many baby things away without complaint, the stroller, the high chair, his crib and quite an assortment of toys. But not the Baby Einstein Aquarium. He's on his third one. The first one broke within a year, and in a panic we ran out to buy one that night, because dude, we need sleep! The second one broke within a few months and I emailed the manufacturer, who sent me a replacement free of charge. That was about 18 months ago. 

We kept hoping that he would outgrow the need for this battery devouring toy. Every two-ish weeks we'd need to replace all four C batteries in it. We hoped when he went into a regular bed he wouldn't need it. No such luck. I bought him a Sleep Sheep (we've replaced its batteries twice in 18 months) in the hopes that just the soothing white noise from it was enough. No dice. Recently we'd taken to just asking him if he could possibly sleep without it. HA! I realized that he wasn't going to take it off to college, but I thought it was about time to gently disengage him from it.

Last week I saw our opportunity coming. I was singing him his lullabies, and I kept hearing a clicking sound. I noticed that it was coming from the infamous aquarium. There was a small tear in the background, and every time it went around it caught. I came to the conclusion that one of two things was going to happen in the near future: 1. it was going to just catch and tear off completely or 2. tear enough to impede the progress of the scroll. Either way, it was close to breaking.  I began to imagine a nightmarish scenario in which it broke in the middle of the night and we had an inconsolable child on our hands, possibly sleeping in our bed (which is a HELL no). 

I decided to be proactive and head this dilemma off at the pass. I turned to the old parental stand by: bribery.  I began looking for a toy so amazingly awesome that Doug would trade the aquarium for it. I found a game called 'Lucky Ducks' there are twelve ducks in a moving pond that go around Ernie from Sesame Street. There are four groups of  ducks, each set of three have the same shape on their bottoms, so it's a matching game. Doug is quite the duck enthusiast, so it was perfect! I ordered the game and oddly enough, it was delivered on a Sunday. We came back from church and a package was sitting on our porch. I told Doug it wa a surprise for him (always a sure way to get him all worked up). As I opened the box I noticed that the batteries were not included, it needed two C batteries. So we told Doug he could have this game, but only if we got the aquarium, because we needed the batteries from it. I couldn't have planned it better if I had tried. 

I thought that Doug might hem and haw over this trade for a few hours to days, but I was willing to give him time. What I wasn't prepared for was him skipping down the hall to hand us the aquarium so we could butcher it for batteries. As you can see, Doug was clearly pleased with this arrangement: 

As I expected, bedtime Sunday night was a bit rough. Jeff has moved Doug's night light closer to his bed as Doug primarily used the aquarium as a night light when he woke up in the middle of the night. Doug asked to have a flashlight in bed, but I offered to loan him something else. I'd had a glow worm when I was Doug's age and when I was in college my mom gave me one as a nostalgic gift. I went and fished it out for Doug and he's able to give it a squeeze when he needs a little extra light. All in all, I think the trade has worked out quite well.