Learning I Have Hypertension

This past winter, I discovered I have developed high blood pressure. This came as a surprise for me, since I generally had always had blood pressure on the lower side of normal and since I don't really have the risk factors except for age and family history. 

For totally unrelated reasons, I had been taking a medicine for about two years that can be used to treat high blood pressure, and I went off of the medicine this past fall. Then, at a random gynecologist appointment, a nurse took my blood pressure at the beginning of the appointment and said, "That can't be right..." She went to my other arm and took it again. But that didn't help. 

My blood pressure was reading 164/110. 

When the doctor came in, she said that it wasn't rush-me-to-the-hospital high (although, I now realize it was close to that) and that this was just one point of data on one day. I needed to gather more data points and see my primary care physician. 

We got a blood pressure monitor for home so I could take my blood pressure at different times and gather more data points. Which I did, and I was averaging 159 over 103. Really not good. In fact, that put me quite firmly in Stage 2 of Hypertension.

I made an appointment with my doctor and brought in my data points. I talked with her about how I went off of this other medicine, and she explained that going off the medicine couldn't cause high blood pressure, however it could have been masking what otherwise would have been a steady rise in blood pressure. That is why my numbers were suddenly so high after going off of the medicine. 

So my primary care physician told me to see a cardiologist as soon as I could, and handed me a prescription which she said to start taking IMMEDIATELY.

As soon as I started on the medicine, my blood pressure lowered to average 131 over 84. I started being more careful of what I ate, and I continued my regular exercising. And I made an appointment with a cardiologist.

The cardiologist said that she thinks the hypertension is because of my family history and that I'm "at an age" when this can kick in. Sigh... 40s... 

She believes it is just "garden variety" hypertension that I can control with the low dose of medicine I had started, diet, and exercise. Luckily, I don't have any damage to my heart because we caught it early enough. She told me to take my blood pressure twice a day and use an app to track it. 

And she handed me a printout with her recommended diet and forbidden foods (so many forbidden foods!!!), although she let me know that I had a little more leeway than say a person recovering from a heart attack. She said to lower my sodium intake and eat potassium-rich foods. 

And then, of course, I did research to figure out what I could eat and to find recipes. I highly recommend the DASH (Dietary Approaches to Stop Hypertension) diet/eating plan, and I heavily leaned on the NHLBI website and even printed out copies of the information linked in the Getting Started with Dash Eating Plan section for myself and my dad (from whom I get the family history of hypertension).

So I've reduced my intake of sodium, sugar, red meat, non-whole grain carbs, and overall calories. I am pretty much eating vegetables, beans, some whole wheat grains, plain yogurt with fruit, fish, and chicken for every meal. Basically, I cook my own meals while Londo makes dinner for him and the kids, because there is no chance the kids are going to eat a plate of veggies and beans. And I still can enjoy some chips or candy on a rare occasion. 

On the bright side, I lost 20 pounds since I started this diet and my blood pressure is back in the normal range. And I discovered that I love beans! 

While I've Been... Nowhere

I don't know about everyone else out there in the world, but I suspect most people are feeling completely stir-crazy... the way I'm feeling. I was doing fine for many months. But now we are about to start the sixth month of being shut in and limiting, well, everything. 

You see, last winter I learned I have hypertension, which puts me in a higher-risk category for COVID-19. And this spring I learned that when it comes to pandemics, I'm on the extremely wary side of the caution spectrum. Also, I've worked too long supporting the health market/industry/government and with too many epidemiologists to not be flat out terrified of this novel virus.  

So our household is locked down as much as possible. None of us meet people for social-distanced walks or lunches in a park. We don't chance any gatherings, do any shopping, or eat anywhere but home. Londo has done almost all of the required trips out, and we follow a strict process for anything that comes into the house.  

In general, we've managed pretty well. However, I realized recently that I've reached my limit in being fine staying in. I now truly have gotten stir crazy and frustrated. I feel isolated. I long to spend physical time with family and friends. I deeply miss activities in places I will not go these days. 

It occurred to me the last time I felt trapped at home, isolated, and lonely for other humans was when I had babies... and that is why I started this blog in the first place! So it seems like a good time to try to start writing again. 

I will start with what I have done during these pandemic months, and what I've learned from doing them. In the past five months, I have: 

• Stayed home with my husband, two kids, and two dogs.
  I have learned... it's a good thing I like the people I live with! We all truly like each other and enjoy the time we spend together. Except the dogs--they don't really like each other or get along.
• Learned to cook curries!
  I have learned... there are easy recipes that make cooking Indian food not as hard as I thought it would be. And apparently I LOVE chickpea and sweet potato curry!
• Been working out regularly, including doing the Insanity workout again, and 'm currently in the second to last week (I've done the workout in previous years two other times). 
  I have learned... even at 44, I can be in really good shape, and I still love crazy hard workouts. 
• Spent a week with the kids at my parents' beach house (near the beach, not right at it, and we did not actually go to the beach).
  I have learned... a change of indoor scenery is really nice, even if you don't go out anywhere. I need to do that again soon.
• Supported the kids through virtual camps (they each had three virtual camps).
  I have learned... although they didn't enjoy all of the camps, they did have fun and learned things. And it was good for them to be able to do things other than watch TV. This has been the summer of TV for them. 
• Created a camp I called Candy Camp for my kids and my best friend's youngest to do remotely. 
  I have learned... I can create pretty professional distance/remote camp, and it is really fun to make up your own candy and help your kids realize their delicious designs. 
• Had many virtual lunches, happy hours, teas, and chats.
  I have learned... I'm perfectly fine doing these things virtually in place of being in person. While not the same, it works for me as a substitute.
• Gone to the doctors' office, lab for blood work, pharmacy, grocery store (once), comic book store (once), and Goodwill's donation drive-thru (once).
  I have learned... I can shop for most things online and do most appointments virtually. 
• Gotten new kitchen appliances!
  I have learned... they make stove ranges with double ovens!!! And that people can really be great and supportive over the phone while you make big purchases. 
• Interviewed, accepted, and started a new job.
  I have learned... It is possible to leave a company and start with a new one all virtually. 
• Worked from home full time.
  I have learned... I'm really glad I redid my office/guest room last winter! Working from home is so much better if you have everything set up in a way that is conducive to the way you work and in an environment that makes you happy. 

Huh. I really have done a lot. There is a lot more I can do, also. Including writing again. 

Happy Thanksgiving -- Four Years Later

I hope everyone who celebrates it had a happy Thanksgiving. I had a wonderful time, and I'm so thankful for so many things in my life. Including my blog, even though I have not been very active lately.

On Thanksgiving four years ago, I set up this blog and wrote my first post. Over the next four years, I wrote pretty regularly, writing down stories about my kids for posterity, creating poetry to reflect my feelings about motherhood, sharing the wonders and frustrations of parenthood with others going through similar life experiences.

Except for recently.

Lately, I just haven't been writing. I haven't been posting on my blog, on Facebook, on other people's blogs, on Twitter, anywhere.

It's not for lack of material, or even ideas about how to write the stories of my life. I often come up with ideas and write it in my head. I just don't type it up on the blog. It's not as if I'm busier now than I was before, considering how busy and sleep deprived I've been since having kids. I have time to read and play on my iPhone and put together jigsaw puzzles (my latest obsession).

I've just not done it. I've not felt like it. I've not followed through when I have felt like it.

I always wondered why people who blogged regularly slowed down in posting and even stop blogging. I was always sad when bloggers I enjoyed stopped blogging. I never understood how they could just stop blogging.

I don't want to do that. I don't want to stop blogging. I'm not going to close my blog down or just leave it up in the air. Although, now I totally get how it happens.

I'm going to keep blogging. I've been doing it for four years now. I know I'll get inspired to blog more often again. I miss writing and recording my life and stories about my children. I don't know how to feel inspired again, but I will keep working on and try not to let too much time pass between posts. I know that the longer I wait, the harder it is to get back into it.

I am just going to accept that this is where I am in my life. I don't feel guilty for not keeping up with my blogging or my friends' blogs. I refuse the guilt that is so easy for moms to feel. Instead, I'm going to just try to capture my life when I think of things to write, and just do it when I can. That's all I can do.

And how have you all been?

Work/Life Unbalance

Well. Work just took over my life for a little while there. I mean took over!

For those of you familiar with software development, we were in the final stage of a major release. For those not familiar, software development tends to be cyclical, and at the end of a release cycle, things get insanely busy. That's when everything has to be tested completely, all bugs fixed and retested, all the help completed, all the code finalized and packaged and ready to be deployed. It's hectic. Some releases more than others. This one was a crazy one.

I almost sent out an SOS for chocolate and more software testers! (I wonder what SOS is in binary...)

Before kids, the craziness of the final phases of the release and release weekends was not as big a deal. Sure, I'd miss Londo when I'd work really long hours. Yes, I had to drop activities and housework. Of course I missed snuggling with my dog and cat. But it doesn't last long, and I can make up my time with everything else after the release goes out.

Since having kids, this time period of the software development life cycle is really difficult. Londo has to take on all the things I let go, from housework to dropping off kids. For a few days in a row, I had really long days in the office, barely seeing the kids in the morning and getting home after the kids were in bed. I wasn't able to keep up with the dishes or laundry or cleaning the kitty litter boxes. It was just crazy.

As hard as this can be on Londo, it's even harder on the kids. The Pumpkin handles it okay. She acts out a little for Londo, and she's still adjusting going back to school. I think the area where I see it the most is her interactions with me. I'm having trouble explaining exactly what it is, and maybe it'd be going on anyway, but I feel like I'm getting a LOT of boundary pushing from her. What I really dropped the ball on though is the school stuff and her activities. I missed a deadline to sign her up for an activity I know she wants to take, but I talked with the teacher and they can let her in. Whew.

The Pookie, who is a total mama's boy, has really been missing me. I knew that he was fussy at home with Londo. And in the mornings when I would see him, he was totally clingy to me, not even eating breakfast unless he was in my lap. But I talked to two of his teachers (one yesterday afternoon when I picked him up and the other this morning when I dropped him off), and they both immediately said that he'd been really clingy at school. They wanted to make sure everything was okay. When I explained that I hadn't been able to be around much because of work, they both said that made sense and explained why he was so clingy. I assured them that the busy period was over and told them about how we spent all weekend together*. They both said that he'd been a lot better yesterday and that explained that also.

I truly believe in having a balanced work/life balance. But sometimes things don't work out in an even or fair way. Sometimes, work takes over. Or when I was out with knee surgery, life takes over. It's not just for my sanity that I can't be a workaholic and work crazy hours like that regularly at this point in my life. My kids need me to be Mom, too.

And now, I can get back to my normal balancing act, with a few fun things thrown in for me, too. Like blogging.

Expanding My Thoughts and Topics

I have been feeling a bit stiffled on my blog lately, and I think it's because I'm not writing some major things I've been thinking about. I'm skipping some serious topics that pertain to my parenting because of some arbitrary distinction I made when I started this blog to stay away from things that might cause arguments or controversy.

But you know what? I'm not in that place anymore. I'm not as sensitive from pregnancy and nursing hormones. I'm not as unable to put together complex thoughts on deeper topics due to sleep deprivation. The focus of my thoughts have expanded outside the limitations of getting babies and toddlers to sleep, eat and poop. Although they certainly include those thoughts, too!

I'm a feminist, and I would argue that most people I know are to some degree as well. Do you think that a woman should be paid the same amount as a man doing the same work? Do you know that your daughter can be anything she wants to be when she grows up? Do you believe that women should have the same rights as men? I would say that most of the women and men I know would agree to all those. And that, my friends, makes them feminists. Your degree of feminism may vary from mine, but if we want our daughters and sons to be raised in a fair world where they can both be whatever they want to be, then be scared to say we are feminists!

So why don't I speak about feminist topics on my blog? I believe very strongly in raising my children with a firm foundation of feminism, as does my husband. Why don't I talk about issues of race or religion? These are also topics that I feel strongly about but rarely even talk about them offline. What good does that do anyone?

Keeping the thoughts and ideas we have in our heads means they stay in our heads. If we don't open dialogues about important topics such as racism, sexism, religion and politics, then how can we progress or come to agreements or simply just understand each other better? We will never be able to "just get along" unless we try to understand where others are coming from and communicate with each other.

I'm not saying that I'm changing the focus of my blog. Afterall, all the topics I had deep conversations about in college now have a different slant to them since I've experienced more of the world and, most importantly, since I've had kids. I have a different perspective now as a parent. I have different concerns as a parent. I have to make choices I never worried about before as a parent.

I guess what I'm saying I said in the title. I'm going to expand my thoughts and topics here on my blog. As always, it's important to me for me and anyone else commenting on my blog to be respectful and kind to each other. I love to hear other perspectives and ideas, so I hope others will share and not shy away from commenting.

Let's see how this goes.

Learning to Love the Beach

I love the beach. I mean, I LOVE the beach. It's my happy place, it's where I feel recharged, it's where I go in my head to escape where I am. (For example, when I was lying on a surgery table after 16 hours of labor, body shuddering and constantly dry-heaving, worried as heck about my baby who was not coming out, I turned to my husband and said, "I'm going to the beach." And I did. And then my little girl was born!)

I love everything about the beach. The endless expanse of ocean, the rhythmic crashing of the waves, the hot sun blazing down, the soft sand shifting beneath me. I enjoy lying down reading a book while I bake, sitting up under an umbrella watching the kids and people around me, standing in the surf while the waves come and go, and walking out into the water to dive through the waves just as they crest. I love it all.

I am a Beach Girl.

My kids, however, I'm not so sure about... yet. I'm pretty confident that I can turn them into Beach Kids, but it turns out it's not an instant thing. Good thing my parent now have a beach house less than 3 hours away, and good thing we are going to be a Family That Travels! Because I am working on it as much as I can.

Not last weekend, but the two weekends before that, I took the kids to my parents' beach house. The first weekend we went, I drove myself and the kids down to the beach house, where my parents and my brother's family were already vacationing. The second weekend, I went with my mom, my kids and my 5-year-old niece. Both times were good times, with fun dynamics. I mean, how cool is it to go on vacations with cousins who are close to you in age? I got to do that every summer at my grandparent's house in Cape Cod with my two cousins from my mom's side. It was always such a great experience. And now I can pass that on to my kids as well.

But back to the issue at hand. The kids and the beach.

We went last year, but the Pookie was too little to really have an opinion. He enjoyed digging in the sand and tried to eat handfuls of sand. The Pumpkin had been in previous years, and she was excited about it. But then we had a little incident where she got swept off her feet by a wave. Even though I immediately had her up and on her feet, it scared her and gave her a healthy respect for the ocean.

I don't know if she remembered that incident on some level of her consciousness or if she is just at an age where things are scarier than they were before. But either way, she was very scared of the water and waves this year. She clung to my hand or ran from the water the whole time we were at the beach that first weekend. She sat just at the edge of where the waves could reach and built a wall (out of sand, which didn't really last as long as she had hoped). I didn't want her to feel and think that she was "scared" of the water, so I gave her the words, "I'm a little nervous about the water" which was super cute to hear her say to other people.

At first, my son seemed excited about the water. He enjoyed getting his feet wet and feeling the sand. I sat him down with his sister to play in the wet sand and build the wall together. These kids of mine spend their entire outdoor playtime at school in the sandbox, so I knew they would love to sit and dig in the sand. And they were really enjoying themselves.

Then a big wave came all the way up to where they were sitting. I had my back to the water, so I didn't realize it and didn't give the kids a warning. It surged over the Pookie unexpectedly. It surprised him and was uncomfortable for his to suddenly have sand and cool water all over his legs, while he was simply sitting in the sand playing. Meanwhile, his sister jumped up, shrieking, and ran back a bit higher in the sand.

I laughed and said "whooa," and he was starting to settle down. But then it happened again. And that was it for him. He was UPSET! I picked him up and helped him back to our umbrella and chairs way back on the beach. He did NOT want to be by the water. He insisted, "No wawa! No wawa!" He didn't even want ME by the water. For the rest of the day.

We hung out back on the beach, out of view of the surf. My parents and brother watched and played with my daughter and her cousins. Then my brother, dad and the cousins went back to the beach house, while my mom and I stayed with my kids.

It was at that point, I was no longer willing to sit so far away from the water (practically out in the dunes!) and out of view of my daughter playing. I also wanted to help my boy get used to the being around the ocean, since my plan is to go to the beach house as much as possible (see above about me being a Beach Girl).

I moved my chair, the toys, our other stuff and my self down to where my mom and daughter were, encouraging my son the whole time to come. He came most of the way, then flipped out about him and me being closer to the water. My mom went back with him to where our stuff had been, and I sat down with my daughter to build a wall.

The tide had gone out a bit, and the beach was less crowded. I could see the Pookie, and he was upset about me being closer to the water, but he was more unhappy being away from me and having no toys back where our stuff had been. He soon came with my mom back to where the Pumpkin and I were playing.

He started getting upset again, but I quickly moved into distraction mode, as well as adamantly telling him I wasn't moving and that the water was not where we were. Plus, I got his sister to start playing with him.

Before I knew it, we were all happy. I had a great view of the ocean, the kids were playing in the sand, and my mom was able to sit down and relax. In one day, we'd come a long way. And even both kids even dipped their feet in the water right before we left, as the four of us all held hands, standing in the surf. It was lovely.

The next morning at the beach went more smoothly. I knew to set up closer to the water from the get-go, I made sure both kids were comfortable with their location (the Pookie started getting upset, but he was quickly mollified). We had a lovely time.

Plus, did I mention the airplanes? The Pookie LOVES airplanes (and any vehicle, or go-go), and he pointed out every. single. one that flew over the beach with advertisements. To everyone around. It was really cute. And we saw boats and seagulls and even dolphins! Both kids loved seeing those things and pointing them out. You know, like Beach Kids do.

The next weekend went even better! From the first hour at the beach, they were playing in the surf with their cousin. They stood their holding my and my mom's hands. Then they wanted to stand on their own more and more.

My daughter ran up and down the slope to the beach, chasing and running from the waves in a fun game. She stood "strong" in the water with her cousin, pretending their feet were on surf boards. My mom lifted them (one at a time) to jump over the edges of the waves as the water came up the beach. She jumped in the water and stood still so her feet would get covered in sand, depending on her mood and current game.

My son wanted to do what the girls were doing. He played and jumped and stood still and wanted me to let go of his hand before long (which was okay for little bits of time, but the waves and riptides at this beach are unpredictable, so I mostly held on to him or at least stood right next to him). At one point, he even said, "mo wawa!" A big change from the previous weekend! So I picked him up and carried him till I was waist deep in the water, with waves surging up higher. I even had to sheild his head with my body when one wave crashed right on our heads! That was as I was just walking us back out of the water. He started to look upset about that one, but I think he didn't because he saw I was laughing and having so much fun!

They are well on their way to becoming Beach Kids now! I feel like I got them both over the initial humps we encountered. I do want them to understand and be slightly wary of the power of the ocean. It's important to know what riptides can do, and why it's important to stay with an adult. We really did have a few scary-ish moments when a strong riptide came out of a seemingly small wave and start to pull the kids with it. They are still small, and the ocean is strong and vast. Luckily, my mom and I and the other adults in my family know and understand what needs to be done to keep them safe, without ruining the enjoyment of the beach.

Because, you know, we're a Beach Family!

Question of the Week - Pick an Era

I actually went out to the movies with my sister on Saturday night. I KNOW! I didn't think it was possible either, but events worked out in a way that we were both able to make it to a late show. And the stop at Starbucks for coffee made it possible to stay up to watch it.

We saw Midnight in Paris, which was a really good movie. Not only did I enjoy the plot and acting and directing and all that, but the movie focused quite a bit on the main character's (Owen Wilson) love of the 1920s (in Paris, no less).

I fell in love with the 20s back when I was in junior high. It wasn't just that the whole literary and artistic movements caught my fancy, but I became fascinated with the breaking away from traditional Victorian conventions to more progressive ideologies. Women were fighting for the right to vote, to wear short skirts, to be treated more equally with men. Automobiles were becoming a normal part of life, and changing every aspect of day-to-day life, from making traveling more convient to providing a private place for young women and men to make out. Speak easies, flappers, gangsters, partying all night, going about without chaperones, defying proper conventions... And on and on. This era had a vibrancy to it, a feeling of the world on the verge of big changes.

I enjoy history, and there are many eras that I really like. The 60s would have been a fascinating time to live in. The Regency era would have been intriguing. Heck, ancient Greece would have been thrilling! But there is something about the Roaring 20s that speaks to me.

So this week's question of the week is:

What era are you drawn to? And in any particular location?

The 20s in Paris is obviously what I am drawn to. But would I actually live then? No, I don't think I'd pick any other era to live in (at least in the past--a future era however...). I really enjoy the modern conviences of today's world, like the internet. I really appreciate all the rights and abilities I have as a women, considering how women have been so limited in the past. I am able to have a wonderful family with an equal partner, work in a job I enjoy (and make good money on par with the men in my position), travel to locations I want to visit, read, write and enjoy other hobbies as I want to.

And most importantly, I am totally in love with my wonderful husband and fabulous children. Who knows what my situation in another era would be. Would my chilren be this healthy? Would I be able to care for them as well as I can here, now? Would I have even been able to get pregnant, considering our need for fertility treatments?

After all, we weren't all Cleopatra in a previous life. Someone would have had to have been the village lunatic and all the serfs working the land.

What about you? What time period do you love? Would you want to live in a different time? And would the location matter? Do you think you could adjust to any time, any where, or are you happy right where you are?

And does anyone else love the Jimmy Buffett line from Boat Drinks, "You pick the century and I'll pick the spot"?

Explaining Ouchies, Surgery and Recovery

Today is the day of my surgery! And I think a blog post is just the thing to distract myself from my growling stomach and throbbing head due to not being able to eat from midnight last night until my surgery at 3:00 plus the post-op time (about 3 hours left to surgery and I'M STARVING!) I don't do well without food. But it'll be worth it when my knee is better.

Over the last 4 weeks, I've spent a lot of time reminding my 4 year old and now 2 year old to be careful of my hurt/ouchie knee. The Pumpkin has been doing pretty well, remembering to walk around my leg when I have to stick it out from a chair, being patient when it takes me time to hobble over to get her something, and listening/following directions when I ask her to stop swinging her legs because they bang my chair and hurt my bad knee. There was only one time that she threw a package of socks to me which hit me EXACTLY in the worst spot of my knee, and when she realized what she'd done, she said sorry immediagely. (I never realized a soft package of socks could hurt so bad!)

The Pookie has less understanding and memory for these things, but he has also really be good about it and gets better and better with regular reminding. I regularly tell him when he gets near my left leg, "Mommy's hurt knee. Ouchie. No touch." Now he pats my left thigh or shin, looks up at me and says, "Ur knee? ur knee?" for hurt knee. And I respond, "That's right. Hurt knee. No touch." Then he pats my right leg somewhere and says, "Goo knee?" And I respond, "Yes, that's Mommy's good knee." When I put him to bed, he has gotten used to not rocking and he's been more and more careful about where he puts his feet and legs when he's sitting on my lap.

I'm constantly amazed at what kids can adjust to in a short amount of time.

Yesterday, I explained to the kids (well, mostly the Pumpkin) again that I'm going to have surgery and what it is. I told them that something is torn inside Mommy's knee (showing my daughter what a tear is using a piece of paper) and that the doctor needs to go inside my knee and fix it up. The Pumpkin seemed to understand that pretty well, especially since I know it takes a few times of explaining for kids to get things, so I have explained it a few times. Most of it is still over the Pookie's head, but hey, he can tell me that the car is blue!

Yesterday I mentioned to the Pumpkin that I would have to spend a few days after the surgery "recovering." I don't think I had gotten into this with her before, and she asked what "recovering" meant. I explained that recovering was spending time in bed, not moving much and not doing much of anything except things like watching shows on TV or reading and maybe some snuggling so that the knee would get all better after the surgery. I told her that I wouldn't be able to get up and play or do much of anything. But that once I was recovered and I did some exercises, my knee would be all better and that I would be able to do everything I did before!

She seemed to take all this in fine. In fact, she told me that when I was recovering, she was going to go into her room and get some books from her bookshelf for me to read. How sweet is that?!?!

Thankfully, my mother-in-law and father-in-law are staying with us to help Londo with the kids so he can take me to the surgery and take care of me while I recovery. Recovery for this surgery should be only a day or two, but as Londo pointed out to me a couple weeks ago, I generally take almost twice as long to recover from things as the doctors say. So I'm planning on 2-4 days, but I know that I will keep getting better and better until I'm back to normal and can run around with my kids again!

Two Working Knees Are Overrated

Sooooo... I tore the meniscus in my knee. It's my left knee, and it's a pretty bad tear. I've been hobbling around with a cane and a knee brace on, trying to stay off my leg as much as possible. It ranges from sore to painful, it's especially hard to "watch" (all parents know that translates into "chase after") the kids, and I feel old--especially with my "old woman cane."

I'm having surgery on Friday, then I will be laid up in bed for a couple days, on crutches for a week or two and going through physical therapy for about 4 weeks. As frustrating as all that sounds, it's going to be WAY better than how it feels now and how limited I am now.

And doesn't it sound serious? Surely, you are thinking that I had some major accident, like a sports incident like Keri Strug. Or that I was fighting off criminals using some choice Krav Maga moves. Or simply that I was doing my own stunts, when I know there are people who are paid to do them!

Nope. In fact, I didn't even realize what I had done at first.

In the beginning of May, my knee started feeling like it was popping in and out of alignment when I'd try to stand up without first straitening my leg. So imagine you are sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the floor with your kids. Then you go to stand up. Your legs kind of unfold as you are standing, right? Not so much with mine. My left leg wouldn't unfold completely, and I couldn't put any weight on it at all. I had to sit back down, straighten in out, and then stand up keeping my left leg aligned straight.

Yeah, I know that doesn't sound right. But this is the knee I've had problems with since I as a young teenager. The cartiledge around my kneecap started wearing away back then, and I just assumed it was related to that issue. Once I had straightened my leg, it was as if there was never a problem. So no, I didn't go to the doctor then or really think much about it.

A couple weeks later, we went down to my inlaws. They live out in the mountains, with lots of beautiful woods, and it's very much the country. There is a long involved story (which ends with the fact that I am not to go walking around on my own down there), but the pertinent part is that I decided to hike up the steep hill from the bottom where I was to the top where my inlaws house is.

It was a lovely, though very hot, Saturday afternoon. It was so hot, that I realized I needed to walk in the shade. I turned as I was taking a step on the uneven ground to head to the shade over the path. My foot kind of slid or something, I'm not even sure. All I know is that my knee popped out while I was taking a step, and I couldn't take another step.

I don't think I've adequately gotten across what happened. YEOWZA!!! My knee just popped out of alignment! The STABBING PAIN!!! The inability to stand on my leg! I had to sit down, at the edge of the shade, still at the bottom of the hill, in a lot of pain, with NO ONE AROUND!

Fortunately, I was able to kind of massage it a bit and get it aligned right. Once aligned, I stood up no problem and hiked the whole way up the hill without any issues. Weird, yes. But then it was fine.

Until the next morning, when I tried to get up from the floor. It popped out, and did not go back in. I could not realign it again. I could not massage it away. I could not walk on it, and it was painful constantly. There was no more shrugging this knee issue away. Thankfully, my inlaws had a cane that they were able to lend me, which has been invaluable ever since.

Two doctor's appointments, one x-ray and one MRI later, we knew for sure it was a torn meniscus. An appointment with the orthopedic surgeon, another doctor's appointment, a blood draw and lots of paperwork later, I'm set to go for surgery on Friday. After lots of googling, talking with others who had torn meniscuses (menisci?), and conferring with the doctors, and I'm pretty sure I've figured out what happened.

In the early days of May, I was getting the kids set in the car to go to school. I was stretched across the Pumpkin's carseat in order to hand something to the Pookie in his carseat. I was stretched and turned and precarious, and then... the car door shut on my leg.

HOLY SMOKES! It hurt a lot!!! It was a big, heavy door, and my driveway is an uphill one, so there was lots of gravity added to the weight of the door. I had big bruises on both sides of my leg: shin and calf. In fact, I still have the bruise on my shin over 6 weeks later. I thought that was all it was, though, just bad bruises. I did not connect this incident with the issue about my knee popping in and out when I stood up until much later when I realized that the knee issue started about the same time as that.

The popping in and out was because part of the torn meniscus was getting into the knee joint, causing the "popping" feeling and preventing the knee from aligning correctly unless I realigned it first.

When I was hiking and did that funny thing to my knee, it actually made the tear in the meniscus worse and caused swelling and inflamation. I got it aligned and okay before the swelling and inflamation got too bad, so I was fine the rest of that day. But the next morning, when I didn't align my leg before getting up, the torn meniscus slipped into the knee joint and all that swelling and inflamation kept it from being fixed easily.

I've done my best to stay off my leg as much as possible since, but that is hard to do with two young children. Londo has taken on so much, and my family has really been amazing help. In addition, the Pumpkin has been pretty great help too. We call her "Helpie Girl" and she just lights up when she gets to help!

But I've had to cut back on all my plans for weekends, the family beach vacation, household projects, and the birthday party plans for the Pookie (whose birthday is tomorrow!). Luckily, I've been able to work from home. But I'm sick of sitting around the house and staring at all the things that I have to do but can't.

Not much longer until the surgery and hopefully a relatively quick recovery. Then I can jump back into enjoying summer with two working knees and two kiddos full of energy!

Back From Unplanned Hiatus

Apparently it's been two weeks since I last posted, which is the longest I've gone without posting since I started blogging. I've missed it and written many posts in my head about the many things that are going on, especially my daughter's birthday.

So why haven't I written them? Where have I been?

I've been working.

Let me re-state that: I've been working my BUTT off. Spending mornings, nights, weekends and all day working working working. I haven't been keeping up with dishes or laundry, Londo has taken on most of the kid watching responsibilities, and my mom has been helping with drop offs so I can get into work as early as possible.

Sounds a bit crazy, right? It has been. I almost never talk about my work, at least in any detail, but I'm going to just a little now. Move on if you have no interest, but check back soon for stories about my awesome and frustrating kids!

I work in IT, in software development. There are generally two different types of projects if you work in software: new development or operations and maintenance (O&M).

Since having the Pumpkin, I've been on an O&M project. There were regular releases with fixes and enhancements, and there were some long nights and weekend releases. But overall, the project was pretty predictable and and not too hectic, like most O&M projects.

After having the Pookie, I returned to that project in a different role (one I prefer) and to the plan of a redesign of the system. We were going to redo the system, from the back-end coding to the front user interface. I actually prefer new software development to O&M because I find it more exciting and enjoy figuring out how to make the system work for the users.

The thing about new development is that it is really cyclical. In fact the cycle is called the Software Development Lifecycle (SDLC). And even when you plan really well, and even when you have an awesome team, things still get really busy at the end.

Add to that an unexpected shortening of the schedule and a few shifting priorities, and surely you can imagine the craziness that ensues. Which was especially fun while trying to celebrate the Pumpkin's birthday, plan and throw her party, and bake something for her to bring into school for the celebration there.

From this point on, things will still be crazy, but not overwhelmingly so (I HOPE!). Blogging is important to me as both a release and record for where my memory lacks. Reading other blogs is essential in keeping me sane, as well as keeping me in touch with my internet friends. Therefore, I don't plan to have another lengthy hiatus... but I didn't really plan this one either!

But while I was gone, here's a few things I wanted to mention:
-My daughter turned 4!
-Spring has sprung, and I'm feeling so much better.
-The time change never fails to screw up the sleep in my household.
-My daughter's birthday party was a big hit.
-My son's communication has really advanced, even though his pronunciation has not.
-My daughter definitely goes through quarterly regressions, and this current one is (another) killer!
-My son seems to also be in a regression, which just adds to the fun.
-It's just a phase. It's all just a phase. Just a phase...

So it's been a while. How are you doing?

Parenting with SAD, Part 3: Conception, Miscarriage and Pregnancy

Once Londo and I were ready to start a family, I really had to think in depth about my disorder and how it would affect my parenting and my kids. I still wasn’t able to find much about how SAD affects parenting, but I did research into recurring depression. Turns out, women who suffer from depression are at a higher risk for postpartum depression (PPD). Londo and I thought it would be better if we had a baby in the late spring or summer for the PPD reason, and also because I was worried about having the energy every fall or winter to plan and deal with birthday parties.

Unfortunately, we had fertility issues, and at a certain point with those issues you have to give up trying to time an ideal birthday and simply do whatever you can to get pregnant. It was really hard to give that up. Adding to the heartbreak of infertility, we had to come to terms with the fact that if we did get pregnant, we might have a baby at a really rough time for us, making things extra hard. But though it was difficult, we did our best to make peace with it and began fertility treatments.

When we finally did get pregnant, we found out in December and the due date was September 3rd, so we started to mentally prepare ourselves for a very tough winter the following year with a newborn. Unfortunately, that baby was not meant to be, and the tough winter was right then.

It’s an understatement to say that dealing with a miscarriage in January was difficult and emotionally rough. A miscarriage in and of itself is (or can be) devastating, especially after trying for so long already. Add to that the chemical issues that normally have me exhausted and depressed, and well, it wasn’t pretty. It was not a hard decision for us to decide to take a cruise in early March down in the Caribbean, both to ease the pain of the lost baby and to get me more sunlight.

My next pregnancy, the one that resulted in my awesome and beautiful Pumpkin girl, started in June. I thought this would be a good thing, but the exhaustion of the first trimester is very much like the exhaustion I feel in winters. So instead of having half a year or so of energy, I had almost a full year of close to overwhelming exhaustion. I’m pretty sure that I wouldn’t have easy pregnancies anyway, but I definitely found it rough that entire 41.5 weeks.

Surprisingly, my third trimester in January and February was not as bad as we thought it would be. I made sure I had enough time to do my light therapy, Londo saw to my comforts and my dad drove me to and from work (which was close to his office at the time). My work was incredibly busy and stressful, but I was able to work from home 2-3 days a week, and full time in the 2 weeks prior to my due date and until I went into labor. I was disappointed that I didn’t have the energy and time to do all the nesting that my instincts were screaming for, but we got enough done to be ready for a new baby.

The Pumpkin’s due date was early March. I was concerned about my lack of energy becoming an issue during labor and delivery, so we lined up a duola. Although I knew Londo would be an excellent couch, I figured a duola could provide additional help and might have ways to help me through rough patches. I believe that it really did help having the duola there, even though I ended up with a C-section. And I feel very confident that the C-section had nothing to do with the Seasonal Affective Disorder.

Overall, that pregnancy was manageable, though difficult.

But being pregnant while having a toddler during the winter? That was the hardest time period in my life.

The Pumpkin has always been a spirited, active little girl who needs a lot of attention and interaction. In the winters, I become more introverted, needing to decrease my interactions with others and needing to have a certain amount of time to myself. In addition, I need time to do my light therapy, which again is too strong of a light to have in front of the little, developing eyes of toddlers and I have to sit still in front of instead of running around after a kiddo.

In winters prior to having kids, Londo had not only helped take care of some of my basic needs, but he also took over pretty much all of the pets’ care and the majority of the household chores. After having the Pumpkin, Londo had to also take over the majority of her care as well. On top of all that, I was having a rough pregnancy and becoming more and more depressed, even though I was doing lots of light therapy and had even started medication.

Depression during pregnancy was no fun. When I started losing weight in my second trimester, was barely making it into work, and was resenting the time I spent in front of my light instead of with my toddler who was having fun with her daddy, I knew it was time to make a change. I talked with my doctor and decided to up my medication dosage, and I made some additional changes to help me and Londo get through that winter. It was hard to admit that my depression was out of my control and that I needed more help. But at a certain point, I just had to bite the bullet and admit I couldn't manage on my own, especially when the health and well-being of my toddler and the baby in my belly was at risk.

But thanks to help from family, special considerations from work, and upped medication and light therapy, we made it through that winter! The Pookie was born healthy and happy (though again through a C-section after a failed attempt at a VBAC) in June.

Perhaps other people with Seasonal Affective Disorder have had easier pregnancies. Perhaps they were able to conceive with no problems, deliver at an ideal time, don't have miscarriages in the depths of winter. Perhaps the glow of pregnancy kept them warm and happy all winter long, the crazy pregnancy hormones providing energy and happiness through the short days and long nights. I hope that is the case for others, but it simply was not the case for me.

So yes, trying to conceive, the miscarriage and the pregnancies were tough for me. But the biggest upside to this condition is that I (and my family and friends) know that things will get better in the spring. Of course, the biggest downside is that I (we) have to deal with it every fall through winter. Those of us with SAD have to continue on with our lives and manage the disorder through the tough times. We can't stop planning our futures, our families, our lives because half of the year is a tough time for us. It's just about figuring how to get through the tough times, managing our health, and forging ahead, knowing that things will get easier over time.

And isn't that the case with just about everything difficult in life?

Question of the Week - Something New

Happy New Year!

I hope everyone had a wonderful New Year and New Year's Eve. Londo was not feeling well New Year's Eve, so I took the kids up to my sister's by myself, and we celebrated the Parisian New Year with her, my BIL and their kids. Why the Parisian New Year? Because it was 6:00 our time, so the kids were up and just starting dinner and we all got to say happy new year together! My almost-4-year-old daughter and almost-5-year-old niece had sparkling cider and the adults had champange. It was fun, especially since this was the first year my daughter had a clue as to what was going on. And we have fun hanging out with my sis and her family.

I'm working on some New Year's Resolutions, but I'm not ready to really write them down yet. Except for one: This year, I will do something I've always wanted to do but haven't yet done.

In fact, I think that every year I'm going to do one thing I've always wanted to, whether it's read a book or see a movie I've meant to read/see for years or go someplace I've never been before or do something I've never done before.

This week's Question of the Week is:

What is something that you've always wanted to do but haven't done yet?

Feel free to pick something you want to do this year, too!

I actually haven't completely decided yet. Maybe I'll do all of the things on my list, or maybe I'll just say I'll do one of the following:

- Go camping with my hubby and kids. (I've been with Londo before, but that was prior to kids, which will add a whole other dimension.)
- Read Jane Eyre. (I have seriously been meaning to read this book since high school. I can't believe I STILL haven't read it.)
- See the movie Sliding Doors. (I often think about the concept of this movie, yet never have actually seen the movie and have been meaning to since it came out in the theaters.)
- Get my PMP certification. (It's a project management certification for work. I've been talking about getting it for years, and now that I'm out of the baby-fog, I feel I really can get it done.)

What about you? Do you have things you've always wanted to do but never done? Any big adventures you want to plan? Any books covered with dust that you are dying to read? Do you think you'll do something this year that you've always wanted to do?

Parenting with SAD, Part 2: Treatment

Last week, I was late to the holiday party at my son’s daycare because I had to sit in front of a special therapy light before heading to the party. I debated skipping the afternoon session of light therapy so I could make it to the beginning of the party, but I had missed my afternoon session the day before and barely made it through the evening, falling asleep while putting my daughter to bed at 8:00. It’s better for my kids (as well as myself and my husband) if I am late to the party instead of missing a session of light.

Treatment for my Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) that will truly work for me within the constraints of my life is critical to my health, my children’s well-being and Londo’s sanity. It has taken me years to figure out what the right treatment is for me, and unfortunately the constraints of my life seem to change every year since having kids. At least every year I learn something from the year prior, and each year I’m getting better and better at staying on top of my treatments.

Before I had children, I started doing light therapy sessions once I realized I had SAD. I bought a couple of special therapy lights, which are bright lights that mimic the sunlight minus the harmful (and tanning) UV rays. Light therapy sessions involve sitting in front of the light at a certain distance with eyes open so as to “receive” the light through the eyes, the only truly proven way that the light therapy works. So I don’t get a nice tan, I can’t just sleep through the light therapy session, and I can’t move around because I have to stay that certain distance. It’s bright, which makes it hard for me to do certain thing like watch TV and makes it very obvious to anyone nearby that it’s not a normal light. The amount of light therapy I need increases the later into the winter it gets. Also, since the light helps reset the body’s circadian rhythm/internal wake-sleep clock, people with SAD are supposed to do the light first thing in the morning, and certain people (me included) also need a shorter session in the afternoon for a late-day boost.

When it’s late winter, I need the most light therapy, which would end up being almost 2 hours in the morning and another hour in the afternoon. That is 3 hours a day sitting in front of this bright light. That was manageable before kids and when I had an office with a door I could shut at work.

But now? I don’t have 3 hours to spend sitting around, except when I’m at work—but I sit in a cubicle now and am not going to have a light bright enough to land airplanes shining in my eyes while people are walking around me. I am not going to wake up at 4:00 in the morning to make sure I get 2 hours of light therapy in before my toddler wakes up—I don’t get enough sleep as it is!

And even with 3 hours of light therapy a day, I would just barely get by. I was still exhausted all the time, and only slightly depressed, which at least was an improvement to being so depressed that I couldn’t get off the couch to take basic care of myself. The 3 hours of light therapy and a dawn simulator (my alarm clock that starts to light up gradually 30 minutes prior to the alarm going off) was just enough to get me out of bed, to work, and back home. Once home, maybe I’d eat a dinner and watch TV with Londo, or maybe I’d curl up on the couch and stare off into space until Londo made me eat something and go to bed. (I could go on about how bad it would get, but I don’t think I need to. If you’ve ever been depressed or if you remember the exhaustion you felt in the first trimester of pregnancy, you’ve got an idea of what I would go through.) Though the light therapy kept me from being unable to function, it just hasn’t been enough for me to truly feel like myself all year round.

Thank goodness for medication!

Going on Zoloft in the winters, combined with (shorter amounts of) light therapy, has made such a huge difference in my life. It was a hard decision for me to make, but once I did I wondered why I ever hesitated! What made me decide to try the medication was knowing I was going to be pregnant during the winter, and time for and effect from the light therapy was just not going to cut it.

This winter is my third on medication, and I can’t tell you what a difference it has made! I am able to care for myself, my children, my house, my husband, my pets without feeling overwhelmed or exhausted. I have good days and bad, good weeks and bad--but who doesn’t? Granted my bad weeks really suck, but that usually means that I’ve not kept on top of the medication or my light or or my vitamins (multivitamin, vitamin D supplements and fish oil) or getting enough sleep, all of which I have to be very cognizant of upping dose or time as needed.

I’ll be honest, I wish I didn’t have to spend any time in front of the therapy light. But I tried going with just medication as treatment this fall, and that did not work out so well. At least with the medication, I don’t have to spend as much time in front of my light.

And that’s the toughest part about treating SAD as a parent. The time it takes. My kids are still to young to be right in front of the light (this is my opinion, as I’ve not found any age-specific recommendations for safety), and if they are in the same room as me, they often want to see what I’m doing or I need to get up to figure out what they are into. It’s not the relaxing time I need to settle down in front of my light. And the time I spend in front of my light takes away from my time with the kids, either playing with them or getting them ready for pre-school/daycare, or it takes time away from sleep, of which I need more in the winter than in the summer with a minimum average of 8 hours a night. Making sure I get that sleep and the time for my light therapy in the morning takes away spending time with Londo in the evenings or having time to myself or watching TV shows or reading or blogging. Or it means that Londo has to take more night-shift duty with the kids, which gets hard on him.

SAD seems like it’s easy to treat: medication, light therapy, dawn simulator alarm, vitamins and supplements, getting enough sleep or whichever combination of these that works for a person. And exercising and eating right would totally help! But it really is a struggle and a trade-off for each treatment, especially with young kids in the house. There are side effects of medication. The light therapy takes time away from other things. The dawn simulator might wake my daughter who comes into bed with us every night, so I haven’t been using it. Missing dosages of vitamins or supplements causes immediate reactions. Getting enough good-quality sleep is something I dream of when I’m trying to sleep (see previous sentence about daughter in bed, plus night-wakings with toddler during teething episodes like last night).

Fortunately, I know that the trade-offs are worth it considering what going without treatment does to me. And as I said earlier, each year I’m able to learn more about how to stay on top of my treatments and how to better incorporate what I need to get through the winter within the constraints of my life with young children. I have high hopes that each year will continue to get better.

Parenting with Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), Part 1: Valid Concerns

Two days ago was the winter solstice: the day of the year with the shortest amount of daylight in the northern hemisphere. That’s a problem for me, because I have Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). Sunlight increases the production of serotonin (a happy brain endorphin) and decreases the production of melatonin (the brain chemical that makes you sleepy). The lack of sunlight in the winter causes me to go from tired to exhausted to depressed to severely depressed.

I’ll never forget when I first figured out that I had SAD 8 years ago. It was such a relief to finally know why I had recurring depression and to understand the cause of it! Not everyone who suffers with depression gets a definitive reason for it and the ability to give a scientific explanation about chemical reactions of the body to an outside source. I had those, and I was also able to look back on my life and put pieces in place that did not previously make sense. To think back to difficulties in my childhood and disparities between my personality and behavior in the winter versus summer and be able to understand what was going on in my life! Oh, it was priceless.

But as cathartic as it was to figure it out and make sense of things in my past, it was also a daunting diagnosis when thinking about the future. This is a recurring condition. I was going to go through the exhaustion/depression every. single. winter. It would affect my life every year. It wouldn’t just go away if I thought positively or exercised or drank more coffee. I would have to figure out treatments and follow through every fall through spring.

Even back then, I started to think ahead to life as a parent. It was a natural extension of my previous concern: How was I going to raise children when I would occasionally get depressed for no reason I could understand? Now that I understood the whens and whys of my depression and exhaustion, my concern about raising kids as a mother with recurring depression was still a valid concern. And back then, I didn’t even take into account how the SAD would affect my pregnancies and postpartum time.

When I first started looking into information about SAD, the treatments and any helpful advice about living with the disorder, I didn’t find much relating to being a parent with this disorder. In fact, the only thing I remember finding was that the therapy light was too bright for developing eyes, so infants and young children should not be around it. (I have since learned that young children are okay around it, so long as they aren’t staring at it.) I wasn’t too worried at the time, because we hadn’t even started on our long journey of trying to conceive.

But I had heard stories from people who had a parent who suffered with depression. I heard about mothers locking themselves in bathrooms to cry, meanwhile the kids think they did something to make their mom sad. Or of fathers who basically disappeared somewhere in the house in a dark room and didn’t interact or respond to their kids, who didn’t understand what was wrong with their dad. Most of all, I heard about how the depressed parent wouldn’t name what was wrong or talk about it, making the kids think that it was some big, dark, shameful secret.

Depression shouldn’t be a dark, shameful secret. It’s hard enough to deal with as it is, especially when it’s so hard to reach out for help while you are depressed. Depression should be understood as a medical condition that limits what a person can do. Depression should be treated and talked about and supported as a family, the way diabetes or some other medical disorder would be.

Even before I had kids, I was determined to be open about my SAD with my family and close friends, and definitely with my future kids. But how to do that? What is age appropriate to tell them? How will I find time for my light therapy with young children? How will I deal with the winter while the sleep deprivation that infants and young children bring? I had so many questions, and I still do, but no one to ask.

Every year since I was first pregnant, I’ve googled combinations of SAD and parenting to see if I could read anyone else’s experiences and/or tips. I haven’t really found any that go into the information I wanted or the depth I wanted. So after 4 winters as a parent, I’ve decided to write my own experiences. I apparently have a lot to write, so I’m going to do it in parts, including discussing the treatments that work for me as a parent, what it was like to go through pregnancy and the postpartum period, what it’s been like parenting young children through the winter, and my goals for the future as the kids get older.

Maybe these posts will help someone out there struggling with SAD as a parent. Maybe it will help my friends and family who don’t know what I go through understand what the winters are like in caramama’s casa. Definitely writing these posts will help me, since writing about things and putting it “out there” tends to be cathartic for me. And since it’s winter now, I am going to do all I can to help myself, which in turn helps my parenting and my kids.

Question of the Week - What Are You Drinking?

A couple months ago, I was annoyed at my husband. I don't even remember why now, other than it really wasn't a big deal. I'll be honest, I was PMSing and stressed about work and the kids had been sick (again!). I was doing dishes while he was putting the Pumpkin to bed, and I was thinking about some little thing that Londo did, getting more and more annoyed over what was virtually nothing (I mean, I literally don't even remember what it was now).

A glass and a half of wine later, I realized I was getting pissy over nothing. The mellow from the wine had kicked in, and I started to let it go. Instead, I started thinking about what a great dad and husband and worker and man he is. There he was, putting our daughter to bed after a difficult evening for all of us. I was cleaning dishes from the dinner he had made the family, drinking the wine he had picked up for me from the store. None of us are perfect, and he has a lot going on lately.

I also started thinking about a phrase he uses during some of our difficult times: I need you to cut me some slack. Written like that, it looks abrupt. But he never says it rudely. He actually says it or asks very nicely, and he often says that we should cut each other slack when we've got a lot going on.

So there I am, finishing up my second glass of Chianti, doing the last of the dishes, thinking to myself, "Yeah. I'm going to cut him some slack."

This could be a post about how we should all cut each other slack, or about how we should appreciate the good things our partners and others do for us, or about letting the little things go so that we don't stress out about everything, or about how we should all support each other especially during difficult times.

But it's not.

This post is about how I enjoy a nice glass (or two) of wine in the evenings, about how it helps me relax and enjoy things a little more. Some nights I don't have anything to drink, some nights I have a glass with dinner, and some nights I have a couple glasses after the kids go to bed. But since I've stopped nursing and I'm not pregnant, I have started to have wine more regularly to help de-stress. And I'm glad I am, for my sake, my husband's sake and my kids' sake! ;-)

This week's question of the week is:

What's your drink of choice?

Lately, my drink of choice is either Chianti or Chardonnay. My favorite mixed drink is vodka tonic, which happens to be my dad's drink also. My favorite drink for the beach is Captain and Coke. My favorite non-alcoholic relaxing drink is herbal tea. And my favorite morning drink is coffee!

What about you? What do you like to drink? Do you have different drinks for different occasions? Have you got a good way to mellow out at the end of a stressful day? Does it involve alcohol, like mine?

Individuality and Clothes

They called me tacky turtle.

I was a fourth grader, and they were fifth graders. It would happen in the lunch room, since our lunch tables were next to each other. Either my clothes didn't match or they were too loud or too patterned or too... I don't know... different, I guess.

When I read a recent post by Her Bad Mother, it all came back to me. Just like her daughter, I didn't care what was in style or what would be normal or what would be considered matching by typical standards. Instead, just like her daughter, I wore what I felt like wearing that day based on my own desires.

No, the clothes didn't always match. They were probably even tacky. It was the 80s, after all. I have this picture of me at that age wearing splatter-paint paints in primary colors, a jaguar sweatshirt, a florescent pink belt and a pastel pink satin jacket. It totally didn't match. But those were all of my favorite things at the time, and I wanted to wear them all at once.

So, they called me tacky turtle. It was a stupid name, but it hurt. In fact, it hurt for many years. It was only a year or two ago that I could say or write the name without wanting to cry. Tacky turtle. There, I can write it now. I can even say it outloud. Tacky Turtle. That's what they called me.

I don't know if it was considered bullying at the time, or if it would be considered that now. I've always just said that I was picked on about how I dressed, I was teased about what I wore. It hurt, and it affected me deeply. More deeply than I showed to them, I'm sure. I'm pretty sure I didn't cry, at least in front of them. I think I just tried not to react at all. Whatever I did, I think it worked because it didn't last long. The teasing, that is. The emotional affects lasted a very long time.

In the following two or three years, I started dressing in black more and more. I doubted myself and my fashion sense. My mom says that my sister started dressing in basic black at that time, and perhaps I was picking it up from her, though her style was always pretty preppy and mine was not. But I also remember thinking that everything goes with black, so I'd wear that. I couldn't mismatch or look tacky in black. So I wore more and more black, blending in with those around me during those difficult middle school years.

By the time I reached high school, we had moved and I was in a new school with all new people. I don't know what it was that motivated me specifically, but I decided I was not going to simply wear black and blend in anymore. I was going to figure out what was fashion and, more importantly, what was my style. I wanted to feel confident in what I wore, but not simply mimic what everyone else was wearing. I didn't want to dress preppy like my sister or in clothes my mom picked out for me. I wanted to wear things I thought were fun and cute and ME, but in a way that was fashionable and not "tacky."

I got a subscription to Vogue magazine and I started paying attention to high fashion. The clothes in Vogue and on the runway were not anything I could actually wear. That's not the point of high fashion. The point is set style trends that can be toned down in regular wear. It was the early 90s now, and the age of the supermodels was in full force. Fashion was diverse and interesting to me. And I decided to try it all.

In high school, I wore the grunge style, with ripped jeans and flannel shirts. I wore hippy clothes, with long flowy skirts and an anklet of bells. I wore preppy clothes, with white buttondown shirts and khaki pants. I wore the hip-hop style, with body suits and baggy jeans. I wore what I wanted to wear, with a confidence that gave me the ability to pull off just about anything and with complete disregard to what anyone else thought about my clothes. I went to college with the same diversity of style and the same confidence to pull it all off.

Instead of being a tacky turtle in high school and college, I was known for being stylish with cute and fun clothes. I was also known for not caring what others thought about what I wore. When my good friend in college joked to me about my baggy black and white stripped "prison" pants, I laughed and said that I loved them. When my roommate was surprised that I put fake dreadlocks I put in my hair, I made her take a picture of the temporary style so I would always remember it. When I would go to my sorority parties, I paired my chunky heels and a lime green cardigan with my little black dress. When I came back from studying abroad in Italy, I wowwed Londo in black leather pants with a fitted t-shirt the night I met him.

Over the many years since I was called tacky turtle, I've occasionally thought, "Why did my mom let me out of the house in those clothes?" Every time I've had that thought, I immediately dismissed it for two reasons:
1. Even at that age, I would very stubbornly insist on wearing what I wanted to wear.
2. She let me explore what I liked no matter what others might have thought, and it's because of that support that I was able to later develop my own style.

I must admit, I have mostly tamed down my natural inclinations ever since fourth grade. I realize that if left to my own devices, I would probably wear some really gaudy outfits. I LOVE animal print, bright colors, big patterns, fake fur, four-inch heels and anything sparkly. But I've learned how to match patterns and how to pair loud items with plainer items, like putting my animal print shoes with my brown suit or a bright blouse with a black blazer.

As a mother, I care a lot about how my kids look, including their clothes. I find myself explaining to my daughter what colors and styles match, and I do try to encourage her to pick clothes that generally go together. But I'm not going to get into a big fight over what she wears. As long as the clothes are age appropriate and weather appropriate, she can pick out what she wants. Most of the clothes in her closet are ones I picked out and bought for her, but I'm trying to encourage her to pick out her own clothes in the stores. I also try to buy fun clothes that I think she will like, especially items with monkeys on them, since she's my monkey girl.

Right now, the Pumpkin only vaguely cares about what she wears. I usually pick something out, and either she agrees to wear it or not. If she doesn't want to wear the first outfit, I tell her to pick out what she wants to wear, as long as it's appropriate and still fits. Just this morning, she refused the cute patterned shirt I picked, and instead picked out a bright blue shirt.

I want my kids to develop their own sense of style. I want them to have fun with clothes and shoes and accessories. Though I don't want them to go through the teasing and self-consciousness I went through, I also don't want to limit them or impose conformity on them. I especially don't want them to try to impose conformity on others. I want them to not only thrive in their own individuality, but to I want them to support and stick up for others who are eccentric or outside the norm.

What this world needs is less judgement and more individuality. From fifth graders to the parents who insist that their children and all children must wear clothing that blends in. The leaders in fashion have always pushed the boundries of what is normal and even okay to wear. And as I learned in high school, it's the high fashion that trickles down into everyday wear, turning what was once unacceptable into the style of the day.

Maybe my daughter or son will push the boundries. Maybe they won't care at all about fashion. Maybe they will be teased for how they dress. Maybe their style will be admired and copied. I just hope that they wear what they want and that they don't tease others for doing the same.

Spending My Time

I am totally out of my normal rhythm, so you'll have to excuse me if I'm not keeping up with the blogosphere. There are good reasons, and not-so-good reasons.

First, this weekend I went away with one of my BFFs and my cousin's college-age daughter to my cousin's house at a nearby lake. My BFF and I left husbands and kids behind for a girls' weekend! It was fantabulous! We stayed up late talking or playing games, we slept in late in the mornings, we ate out for every meal, we saw Life As We Know It and got ice cream, we sat outside on the deck reading in the sun on a beautiful fall day, and we generally did whatever we wanted!

I came back Sunday night, immediately picked up my daughter and Mom and aunt, and drove up to my brother's house for my mom's birthday dinner. The Pookie had a stuffy nose, so Londo stayed home with him. I had a great time, especially since the Pumpkin and her cousins that are around her age all ran off into the basement to play BY THEMSELVES! It's a good age.

Although we had a bit of a rough night that night, Monday was another good day. Both my husband and I were working from home that day (my office was closed for Columbus Day), but the kids' schools were open. So I dropped them off in the morning and went back home.

It was a beautiful day, so it didn't take much for Londo to convince me to pick up some food and go on a picnic. We had such a lovely time that we decided not to head back to the house right away to go back to work. Instead, we hiked around a park for a while, enjoying the weather and each other's company.

This was much needed for us, this reconnection. We had been short with each other lately, with so much stressors going on in our lives. It's too easy to take out the stress and frustration on the ones we are closest to, though we try so hard not to. An afternoon outside exploring and being together was just what we needed. And it helped to get us in the right spirits for what we had to deal with the next day.

You see, Sunday night I had noticed a little red bump on the Pumpkin's bottom. It's not unusual for her to get irritation bumps, since she has such sensitive skin. And on Sunday night, we had to borrow a pair of underwear from my niece due to a pee pee accident. I figured that her skin was just irritated by a different kind of detergent.

But then on Monday night, we noticed there were more bumps as she got into the bath with her brother. They looked odd, but I wasn't yet worried. I was only slightly worried the next morning when I noticed even more bumps, and that some looked like whiteheads. As I got her ready for the day, I saw a couple small bumps on her ribs and thighs. I was puzzled, but continued with our morning.

In fact, I didn't truly worry until I was getting the Pookie out of his highchair (about to get his shoes on and go out the door with both kids) and I noticed some small bumps on his leg. That's when I called a halt to the morning. It was one thing for my daughter to be getting a weird rash on her sensitive skin, but it's another to see the same rash on the other child. That quite clearly indicates that it can spread, which means no going to school.

I'd been hearing about bed bugs a lot lately, so I immediately start to panic that it was bed bugs and we'd have to sanitize the entire house! (It's not bed bugs.) I called the nurse at my doctors. I answer her questions, including the fact that the spots don't seem to be ichy to either kid. She doesn't think it's chicken pox, but now I start to worry that it's chicken pox. (It's not chicken pox. And no, neither kid has had that vaccine yet, although they will soon.) The nurse asks if I want to bring the kids in. And yes, I very much do want to bring them in!

It's impetigo. As soon as the doctor looks at it, she said right off that it's impetigo, from either a staph or strep infection. But just on the skin -- skin infection. Neither kid has a fever or sore throat, so that's good at least. We just apply a topical antibiotic three times a day until it clears up and cover with long pants and long sleeves.

I never thought I'd be so glad that my kids have a staph or strep infection! But what a relief that it's not bed bugs or chicken pox or some other worse skin disease. We still are keeping the Pumpkin home, because it apparently often spreads in pre-schoolers via the toilet, which explains the bumps on her bottom that were in the horseshoe shape of a toilet seat. My guess is she picked it up at school, but it could have been anywhere. I don't even know where she used the bathroom over the weekend, and I'm not going to bother to try to figure it out. Though I did clean our bathrooms from top to bottom.

So I stayed home with the kids yesterday, and I quite enjoyed playing with them all day. It's been like I had a double weekend, with plenty of time to enjoy myself (weekend away), my BFF (weekend away), my family (Sunday night), my husband (Monday) and my kids (Tuesday). But now, I have SO MUCH WORK TO DO and need to spend time at work. Oh well. It's almost the weekend again!

Question of the Week - Class is in Session

I'm so excited for my daughter to start at the Montessori school tomorrow! Wait... tomorrow? YIKES! I'm not ready! Hopefully she is ready. At least mentally and emotionally, because I don't have any of her things ready to go with her.

I was going to take her out to get school supplies this weekend, but the Pookie got sick on Friday afternoon so we stayed in pretty much all weekend. Plus I don't even know what she'll need. I feel like I should know, but juggling one sick kid and one kid with pent-up energy has kept me from checking any school lists and ready all the back-to-school information. Tonight is Back To School night, though, so hopefully they will tell me everything I need to know with enough for me to run by a store and pick up last minute things for the first day.

Luckily, the first day on Tuesday is a half day, so I've been figuring we can go together to the store in the afternoon and get anything she needs. I do love shopping for school supplies! It's almost as much fun as shopping for office supplies. Am I right?

Between the Pumpkin starting at a real pre-school and two of my cousins each having a daughter starting college, my head is totally in school stuff. So this week's question of the week is:

What is your favorite aspect of getting ready to start school in the fall? This could be for yourself when you were younger or for your kids.

I think my favorite back-to-school activity was going shopping with my mom for fall/school clothes (which I still haven't done for my kids!). At the end of every summer, she would take us to get new clothes to start the school year. Even the years when my parents didn't have much money, she would save up and we'd look for sales to buy clothes that fit our growing bodies. Those clothes would have to last through the fall and winter seasons, because we didn't usually go clothes shopping again until late spring/early summer to get shorts, t-shirts and bathing suits. And I relished the opportunity to pick out a wardrobe for the school year.

I also loved (and still love) to pick out school/office supplies. All those pens, pencils, notebooks, scissors, papers, post-it notes... and don't forget the backpacks and lunch boxes!

So, what did you like about getting ready for the school year? Was it seeing your friends again? Picking classes when you were an older kid? Doing that fall shopping? Or do you get more pleasure getting your kids all ready? Organizing areas for school bags or homework? Helping them pick out their first-day-of-school outfit? Simply getting them out of the house so you can have some peace and quiet?

Question of the Week - Thank Your Parents

We looked into a lot of pre-schools before deciding on the Montessori school where the Pumpkin will start next Tuesday. Londo and I both really felt that this school was the right one for her (despite it not being a nut-free school). But although we think it is the right place to send her, there are some drawbacks for us.

Money is the big one, especially with the application fees, the registration fees and the advanced payment schedule. Whew! That's been tougher than I care to blog about or even hint at to most people. So I'm going to pretend like our finances all just fine and move on to something else.

The school is inconveniently located. For those who live in or are familiar with the DC area, you know that traffic is a HUGE pain. Just getting to work and back can take up way more of your day than should be legal! Add in school drop offs, and it gets more frustrating. Now add in two different drop offs, plus one of those that is 10-15 minutes (depending on lights) further north when you work south, and you start to get what I mean by inconveniently located. We will do it, but it will take more time away from being home with the kids having fun.

Anyway, I said all that to say this... About a month or so ago, I dropped off both kids at their current place and then headed up to the Montessori school to drop off paperwork. As I did that, I was able to foresee what my morning commute is going to be like this fall with the added location. And I thought back to the year I went to private school, about 20 minutes away from my house. Instead of walking to a bus stop and taking the bus to the local public junior high school, my mom drove me to and from the private school every morning and afternoon. Then I started thinking about all the times I missed the public school buses and my mom took me to or from school. And all those activities that I did? She drove me to them, and my sister and brother to theirs. Not to mention all the trips for me to visit with friends, including two of my best friends who lived in the next town up. Wow. My mom did a lot of driving for me.

There I was, driving up to this new school just to drop off the paperwork. I put in my hands-free earpiece, and I called my mom. "Hey, Mom. I'm driving to the Pumpkin's new school and I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for all the driving you did when I was younger, especially to the private school. Thank you for doing that for me." She laughed and said I was welcome and of course she would do those things for me. We talked about how great that private school was, and how I hoped that the Montessori would be a good fit for my daughter.

Then I told her, "I think everyone should have a kid, not just cause kids are wonderful, but so everyone can actually understand what their parents did for them! Having children has been the biggest eye opener for me about things I previously took for granted."

So this week's question of the week is:

Now that you have kids, what do you want to thank your mom or dad for doing for you as a child?

On that same phone call, I once again thanked my mom for putting up with my physical sensitivities. One of my family's stories is about me as a child and my shoes. I could not STAND IT when the socks weren't exactly right or if the shoes were tightened the exact same amount. I would throw a fit. Not because I was some temperamental diva. But because I simply could not leave the house and function unless my socks and shoes were just right. Now I know that at times I have bordered on having Sensory Processing Disorder, but back then I luckily had a very understanding mother.

On that same phone call, after I thanked her once again for putting up with all that, she said she understood because she has skin/physical sensitivities also. And then I realized that I could now see signs of those sensory issues in her as well. In fact, I believe that the search for the perfect nightgown for her continues to this day!

For my dad, I have before, and will again, thank him for treating me like I was capable of doing anything. He did not assume that my sister or me couldn't do the things my brother did just because we were girls. No, he taught us how to fix things and build things. He had me help move the couch and finish dry-walling the basement. He passed on his love of power tools and football to me, which has come in very handy over the years. Having a daughter and a son of my own, I see how it could be easy to treat them differently based on societal expectations of gender, even when it's not reasonable to do so. I'm so glad my dad knew that my sister and I were able to do most things that our brother did, as long as we were interested.

What about you? What did your parents do for you that you wish you could thank them for now? What struggles are you discovering in parenthood that give you new or more respect for what your parents did? Do you call them up and thank them? If not, you totally should.

Maybe My Birthday Rule Will Work Next Year

Today is my birthday! Happy birthday to me! I still love my birthday, because each year is still better than the last.

This morning, I told my kids that the rule on Mommy's birthday was: No fighting, arguing, crying*, screaming or whining.

They did all five anyway, of course!

*I actually rescinded the crying part, because I've always said that if anyone feels the need to cry, they could go ahead and cry.