Daily Kvetch

I can't seem to get into blogging these days

To be honest, I have felt about just closing the site since I never feel like blogging anymore, but I am hoping it is a phase.  Sorry for those who keep clicking over to see if I am still alive and kicking!

Lots has been happening over in these parts.  The biggest is that LM developed two pretty serious tics seemingly out of the blue.  The first is a very aggressive shake of the head.  At first I thought he was doing it on purpose and he said he liked doing it, that it felt good.  But, I soon became concerned that it was something more serious because my brain never strays too far from "brain tumor" so I called his pediatrician and left a message.

There was a mix up wherein the message was lost and she didn't call me back for a  week and in that time, he developed a verbal tic as well, a sort of slight yip sound.  The head shake also became more pronounced.

Since he has two tics, she is taking this very seriously.  Apparently boys in his age range develop transitory tics, they come and go and it is normal.  But two, well then, there is a problem and now we have to see a neurologist who specializes in tic disorders at Boston Children's hospital.  Of course that appointment is not for at least a month.

In the interim, she told us to take him off his ADHD meds to see if that made a difference.  It doesn't.  But, B and I did notice that LM off meds was a lot like LM on meds so we started to question if he still needs meds.  In some ways, he was better off meds, a lot more affectionate towards us.  Having warned his teacher about the situation, we asked her a week in what he was like in class and if she noticed a change.  Our hope was that it would be positive and we would be able to stop the medication but alas, it was not the case.  Although he has not been disruptive in class, like he used to be before meds, she said it was really hard to keep him focused and on task in the classroom to do his work.

To be honest, the whole thing makes me all sorts of sad.  Every time I see this aggressive head shaking I want to cry because it seems like just one more thing that points to something being wrong with my son.  I worry about him being made fun of or bullied by his peers.  I worry about it being a sign of more serious neurological things.  I find that I can't look him in the face when the shaking happens, I have to avert my gaze so he won't see how upset I am.

I have also felt very aware of how I am sort of lagging in the child development arena of parenthood.  Almost everyone I know has their kids doing at least one sport and one other sort of extracurricular activity each week and well, we do nothing.  I thought the weekend swim class was going nowhere and knowing that he will have swim class every day this summer in his camp made me stop those.  LM has no interest in baseball or soccer and if he doesn't want to do something, he won't do it.  This I learned from when he sat down in the corner of the ice rink and refused to try to learn to skate and I realized that once more I had tossed $200 into the furnace for more useless lessons.

So I have been gun shy to try to get more lessons.  But then LM asked me for something.  He wants to learn how to golf.  It came up so many times that I figured this might be my only chance to get him into a sport.  The problem of course is that we don't golf.  I don't have a window into the world of golf.  I had to turn to my friend Dr. Google.

I found that the only chance for lessons were private one on one lessons at a nearby golf country club.  He had his first lesson this past Thursday night at 6:30pm.  That day the teacher emailed me a link to their very strict dress code at the club.  LM could not step foot onto the premises without a collared shirt and nice pants or "golf shorts."  I, too, had to wear specific clothes to even escort him to his lesson.  I had one outfit that sort of qualified for him.

B was laughing so hard about this, calling our son the "1%" but then I warned him that if he ever had to take LM to lessons he would have to wear a collared shirt and no jeans too.  He may have paled.

On the one hand, I was happy with the setup since I pay per lesson.  If he hated it, well I was only out $30!  He loved it.

The instructor told me that most kids can't even hit the ball for their first lesson and LM hit it and hit it far 90% of the time!  The instructor kindly lent me a club and instructions to take him to a driving range over the weekend to practice.

I feel like the blind leading the naked in this new golf world.  But then I figured, well, isn't that how it should be?  We can't all be interested in the same things so like we expose LM to new things, he in turn will do the same?  Maybe I will start taking lessons too so we can do things together?

Oh yes, I do have another child.  She is still an adorable little spitfire who never. stops. TALKING!  But oh, she is the biggest ray of sunshine ever.

 

 

Not since 2004

I have been sugar free for a whole month now.  It is weird how after a few days the cravings totally go away to the point where I can sit next to a delicious chocolate gooey cake dripping with fudge and not even feel tempted to swipe my finger along the knife to try it.  As I work in an office, where every day seems to be someones birthday, something like this occurs most days.

The other thing fueling my desire to abstain from sugar is that I have lost 10 lbs in one month thanks to following the Jillian Michael's Body Revolution plan.  Now I don't follow it to a T because she has us eating 250 calories for breakfast, 400 for lunch and dinner, and one measly 150 calorie snack in the afternoon.  I can't make it from breakfast to lunch without a snack.  I just can't.  So I am eating about 100-200 more than she would like a day.

You know what is totally awesome and something I likely would have never tried had I not been avoiding sugar?  Have you ever seen those fresh date rolls that are coated in unsweetened coconut?  They have them in the produce section.  Sometimes there is also a sliver of almond on them.  Nature's candy I tell you!  No added sugar but oh so sweet!  Sadly the guy at stop and shop told me they are usually a seasonal item carried only in winter.  I might have to buy out their entire stash this weekend and freeze them to carry me through the summer.

And to share something that I am simultaneously ashamed and proud of?  For the first time in 8 years I am under 200 pounds.

I have always been a larger lady, even at my "skinniest" I was 165 lbs.  Before I got pregnant with LM I was 180 lbs and have not been under 200 lbs since.  For the past 2 years I have yo-yo'd between 205 and 210 just dreaming to see the magic 199 on my scale.  I saw it this week my friends.  I saw 197.  This time last month I was 207.

My overall goal is to be 185 by the end of the 3 month program (I have 2 more months left).  Then I plan to continue until I am 165, hopefully attaining that by my 43rd birthday in November.

In plantar fasciatis news, I ended up at a specialty store called Good Feet and invested and obscene amount of money into a set of 3 orthotic inserts, one for sneakers, one for slippers, and one for dress shoes.  I am never to be barefoot except in sleep.  I do the stretches and haven't had the back and knee pain since but my foot still hurts and towards the end of the day, I limp.  I think the sleep boot is next.

Changing gears dramatically, as I have explained before, I am in still in group therapy for motherless moms of young kids.  I finished the first 12 week session and signed on to the second one which is halfway over.  It has been a wonderful and helpful experience but I have gotten what I need to out of it.  I really do credit it for helping me be less angry about the whole thing.  I no longer hear adult women complain that their moms call too often or make plans to go away for the weekend, leaving their kids with their own parents, and want to punch them.  Progress!

The other thing about group therapy is getting a really good view into the lives and problems of others.  It is also interesting to see how other people react and handle situations and realize how very different we all are.  Some nights, as I tell B, it is a struggle for me not to be an asshole in therapy because I can't understand the choices some people make.

For example, one woman, married with little kids as we all are in group, lives in the house she grew up in with her family, her dad, and her adult sister.  She desperately wants to move out and have her own home with her own nuclear family but finds it hard to say no to her father and sister.  She had been excited to plan a week away vacationing with just her husband and kids and her sister invited herself along and...she let her!  My mouth gaped open and I exclaimed, "Why didn't you say no??"  She looked really hurt and mad at me and I felt like a tool.

But still...why??  I sometimes beat myself up that we have so little family on both sides but I guess because of that, I don't have the dynamic wherein I would feel compelled to not be able to say no.

Speaking of family, my dad turned 77 this week so last weekend we met him for a day of lunch and young child entertainment at the Eric Carle Museum in Amherst, MA.

Now if you have ever met my daughter in person or paid attention to any pictures I may have posted, you would know that she is never without her "Very Hungry Caterpillar" lovey. It is something she started cuddling before she was even a year old and has not gone anywhere without since.  

 Yes, he gets mighty dirty and he has lost some of his fruit in the wash, but still, he is her most favorite thing in the universe.

So she was really able to live the dream in a whole museum where her lovey was the star!

I worried that this was not the way dad would want to spend his birthday celebration.  Not many 77 year olds dream of a children's art museum as their dream day, but he seemed to enjoy it and he spoiled the kids something crazy at the gift shop.

My dad is still my dad though.  I wish many things about our relationship would change.  I know I need to go spend a day at his house, which I haven't been in for a year, to see the state of it.  Last time it was well on its way to being a contender on Hoarders and he does everything in his power to dissuade us from going there. 

But, I am also proud of him because he is really willing to do things and accept invitations and get out there since mom died.  He goes to many events at his synogogue and the school he still teaches one class a semester at.  He had more invitations for Passover seders than I had.

We all still miss my mom though.  I had waited and wondered why I had not dreamed of her.  That had been a topic of conversation in my therapy for a long while, dreaming of our moms.  When it did happen, almost 2 years since her death, it was oddly dull.  She and I were wandering around a large hotel like place with my brother looking for seats together at some sort of religious service.  We were all dressed nice and I was leading us around through crowded rooms and hallways.  There wasn't any talking.

I'd like to dream of her again.  I hope the next time she hugs me.

Spring!

Thank you everyone for your shoe suggestions and plantar fasciitis advice.  I am doing all the crazy stretches for it and although I still have the condition, it is a lot less painful these days so improvement is being made.

I bought and returned one other pair of shoes, a Mary Jane sort, and have another new pair on its way to try.  I have been able to get away with the black Merrells and even found a pair of "fancy to me" Merrell sandals that I can wear for the rare dress up events.  These don't fit my arch supports but for a day or so, I think it will be ok if I have to get fancy.

I know my last post was a bit of a downer, so here is something hopeful and springy! I just finished my first week of Jillian Michaels Body Revolution.

This is a 12 week program with specific exercise DVDs for specific days and a diet plan that is basically no sugar, low carb, high on lean proteins and veggies.  I am a huge Jillian fan and an avid listener of her podcast and I own and do most of her exercise videos but I was most inspired by the test group "Before and After" pictures she used, including one of the women who wrote a blog post about it.

It was not cheap, $135 with shipping, so I went through the house and found stuff to sell on ebay to gather the money to purchase this.  Thankfully, one Coach brand backpack that I hadn't used in over 5 years fetched $80.

I personally felt that having to delay my purchase to save up the money for it helped me keep my commitment in mind, after all it is a 12 week program.  I was always pretty good about exercise, waking up 4-5 days a week at 6am and putting in 30-45 minutes as it was so it wasn't a huge leap for me to do it 6 mornings a week, following her fitness guide of which DVD to use on which day.

The diet was the biggest adjustment for me.  It was more the portion size and when to eat - only one snack a day and in the afternoon!  I can't tell you how hard it is for me not to snack when I first get to work and drink my coffee.  There were definite times where I was really hungry, I won't lie.  There was some crabbiness.  But, I lost 4 lbs this first week which is AMAZING for me.  Plus, the rest of the weeks there are more food choices (fruit!  some bread or whole wheat pasta!) and more calories, so I am hopeful the crabbiness is behind me.

These test subjects lost anywhere from 30-60 lbs in 12 weeks.  I am aiming for 20, I think that is realistic for me and my slow as molasses in the freezer metabolism.

In other non-diety news, we recently had a pooptacular experience in the adventures in potty training!  For months now my daughter has been day toilet trained with nary an accident.  Her specialty?  Pooping in the potty!  But, she still needs a diaper at night.

On Friday I woke up at 6am to get my workout in and she immediately heard me in the bathroom and started yelling that she was "Dry" and was really insistent about it.  Normally, she sleeps until at least 6:30am so I went in to see what was going on and found her naked from the waist down in bed.

Trying to have a conversation with a 3 year old is never really productive in the best circumstances but my questions like, "Where are your pajama pants?" and "What happened?" and "Why does it feel like there is sand in your bed?" did not merit satisfactory answers.  Clearly, I had to turn on the light in her room.

The answer, my friends, was pooping in the wind.  From what I gather, at some point in the middle of the night she pooped and decided to pull off her pants and diaper and sleep with the wet poop smearing her legs and butt.  Over time, it hardened into what I refer to as "Poop Flakes," not to be used as the name of a breakfast cereal.  This dried poop was all over her bed and still caked on, baked on her body. 

Mind you, it was still dark out when this happened and necessitated a bath for her, Brian stripping her bedding and popping them in the wash, and a thorough vacuuming of her room and the path she walked to the bathroom - all before 6:15am!  Good morning to you!

Her behavior may in part be a response to getting her first bad professional haircut.  Do you recall that episode of Friends wherein Lisa Kudrow cuts Courtney Cox's hair and does the "Dudley Moore" cut?  Well....

 

My instructions had been "cut the bangs short because she really hates having hair in her eyes."  I had been so distracted by policing her brother who was across the way that I didn't keep as close a watch as I should have and by the time I noticed she had cut off pretty much half of my daughter's hair, it was too late.

The good news is it will grow and that even a bad haircut can't kill her happy go lucky spirit.  So what if she got mistaken for a boy at the library yesterday despite wearing pink sneakers and a purple top!  If she can get the "bad haircut" phase of her life done and over before she really cares, all the power to her!

I still can recall when I was in my early 20s and in graduate school, coming back from getting a terrible hair cut and fearing I looked like John Bon Jovi from his 80s days. I had gone to this "stylist" recommended by a friend and I had told her that I wanted to get something fashionable that looked good on me.

Mistake.

Anyhow, as I walked home debating how bad it looked, I had finally decided maybe it wasn't so bad when I walked into the door of the house I shared with 2 male roommates.  They took one look at me, and then one of them pumped his fist in the air and sang a verse from "Living on a Prayer."

Sigh.

 

 

Update of Sorts

About a month ago I got a standing desk at work.  There have been so many reports about how those of us with desk jobs who sit most of the day are at greater risk for terrible problems with cancer and heart disease.  Plus, sitting so much was making my back hurt.  I petitioned our office manager for one of those podium type standing desks that can go on top of my real desk so I had the option to stand whenever I wanted and when it arrived I  became an office oddity.

Now my cube walls are pretty high so it wasn't like I was able to stare out at my colleagues from my new vantage point.  I wasn't that creepy.  In fact, in order to see me standing, people had to walk by my cube which is in a remote point in our office.  But when they did, questions arose and soon people from miles around (ok, cubes around) came to gawk and want to try it out. 

But what started off as an improvement to my health soon became a detriment.  I developed horrible pain in my right heel.  Something happened to my lower back and my hips.  By the end of the day I could barely walk.  If I bent over to pick something up it was a struggle to get back up straight without a back spasm.

This scared me.  I just felt like between starting the year getting my wisdom teeth removed and now this, the signs were pointing to doom.  2012 the year I officially become a crippled old woman.

So I went to the doctor figuring it was the first step to get a referral to a specialist and during the exam when he pressed my bare foot against his palm and I almost passed out from the pain, I learned I had super flat feet.  "You have almost no arches!"  Plantar fasciitis was the official diagnosis and I had to get arch supports and wear sneakers for 2 weeks and do special exercises and retire the standing desk until I am healed.

I was never really able to wear super cute shoes.  I don't have good balance and my toes can't bend and grip due to a weird genetic condition.  I tend to favor the sort of funky bowling shoe style or athletic shoes but well, I do want something that looks good with skirts.  But, I was told in no uncertain terms that I should look into the more supportive and orthopedic footwear to fit in arch supports for the rest of my life.  These shoes don't come cheap and it is a real struggle to find something semi attractive.  If you have an suggestions, please let me know.

So far I just bought these but I at least need another pair or two of shoes.  I have to get rid of all my other non supportive shoes. 

Anyway, a week and a half since diagnosis and a diet of sneakers with arch support inserts and looking like a Manhattan power walker on her way to work with her suit and sneaks, I can feel myself on the mend.  Last night I bent over to pick up a spoon I dropped on the floor and was able to straighten up like I used to do, pain free and without worry. 

Getting old can really suck.

Anyhoo, what else is going on?  It is hard to not tell you of the morbid and sad stuff so I will do it quickly and get it out of the way.  There is a woman I know at work that I fell into conversation with recently.  I knew she had 4 kids under 5 years old and also works full time so I thought she was Wonder Woman. I also thought she was my age, in her early 40s.  Turns out she is 32.  Turns out that not only is her husband a recent prostate cancer survivor (he is also in his early 30s) but their 2nd child has Muscular Dystrophy.  If you don't know much of this awful genetic disorder, please know that it is awful and eventually fatal.  With the kind he has, he won't make it past his teen years but those years he will be confined to a wheel chair unable to do much for himself but breathe.

He is only 4 now and it is already having an impact.

I found this out because she put up signs towards a fundraising event her husband's company is doing to raise money for his care.  Of course I contributed and it also opened up a more meaningful dialogue between us and made me count even more blessings.

Less than a week later, I ran into another woman in the company's kitchen.  She is very young, this is her first job out of college and she is working on a project with me.  I asked after something work related and she said she had been out for the past couple of days but she looked like she was about to cry so I asked if she was ok.  The reason she was out was because her best friend, a fellow 22 year old, had died in a car accident.  She had to go identify the body because the girl's mother could not do it.  The girl who died was an only child of a woman who had raised her alone as the dad had left when the girl was 3.  My colleague was trying to be there for the mom as well.

She told me this in tears and I started to cry as well and went to give her a motherly hug.  I couldn't help myself although she seemed very uncomfortable being touched by me by so I let go almost immediately and stepped away. 

I shared with her a very little about my mother's death and focused more on letting her know that she needs to be easy on herself and accept that she will feel grief and that the process will take as long as it takes.

She is so young, only 22 years old.  Her best friend just died from a freak car accident.  I can't imagine what she is going through.  I can't imagine what the mom is going through losing her only child so suddenly. 

I never thought I would say this but I really appreciate that I never had to deal with death until I was 40. 

Wow, Ok, I realize that this is all dark, dark, DARK!  But it was on my mind.

But I have to say, Spring is one of my favorite seasons and it started early this year.  All week long the kids went to school in shorts and t-shirts and I strode from my car in the parking lot to and from the office feeling the sun on my face and feeling the stirrings of the wind and seeing the flowers start to bloom and all I can think is that it makes me so happy.  Spring is about rebirth and possibilities and I for one, am ready to embrace it.

I Suppose I Should Write Something

Today I had a 90 minute massage courtesy of my lovely husband B who gave me a gift certificate for Chrismukkah.  Unfortunately, he knows if he buys a gift certificate to my favorite salon I will spend it all on eye brow waxing.  Why blow a whole gift certificate on one massage when I can get like 5 brow waxings throughout the year?

So, knowing me oh so well, he found a place that just does massage and then harassed me for about 3 months to make an appointment and actually use it.

I guess I am just not a massage person because I don't like people touching me.  I used to be good with it but something changed after having the babies and now the thought of it is not relaxing.  But I went and it was actually pretty good despite the fact that she did a lot of digging touch point kind of work and more than a few times I yelped before she let up the pressure.

What I found hilarious and sad was that after she went through the form she had me fill out she felt the need to read aloud the rules, one of which included the fact that if at any time I made a sexual suggestion or advance on her, the massage would end and I would be asked to leave.  It was hard for me not to laugh out loud but I felt my lips twist into a smirky smile and she said, "I know, but I have to read it out loud."

I confess, the "happy ending" had been furthest from my mind because...ew... but then it was a struggle to not joke about it or ask if any customer had ever been shown the door for violating their policy.  Just looking around at all the earth mama yogi decor I couldn't imagine anyone even thinking, let alone suggesting, such a thing.

The massage turned out to be a good thing because I have had a tough couple of months.  I have just felt, well sort of old recently.  For the first time ever terms like "peri-menopause" are being thrown at me and seeming to stick.  My cycle, which has been like clockwork forever, has been anywhere between 21-38 days apart for the past 3 months.  I have had strange severe pains with my lower left back and hip that have been disabling as well as painful.  My right heel has been hurting.  All of the sudden I feel brittle and old and mortal and not in a fun way.

My outlook has been gloomy as well because for the first time in several decades I am paying attention to politics and it is scaring the be-jesus out of me.  Where did all this right wing fundamentalist Christian stuff come from?  How is it that in 2012 we are now seriously discussing if women should have access to birth control pills?  How in the world did we get in a time machine and go back to 1950?

How is Santorum a reasonable candidate?  He wears his extreme religion on his sleeve while running for a position as someone who is to uphold a separation of church and state? 

People, it scares me.   Now mind you, I know most people who are religious are reasonable people.  Although none of my close friends and people I socialize with on a regular basis are very religious, so I can't even make that vapid claim that "some of my best friends are," the thing is I do know people who go to church and are very involved and pray before they eat and they wouldn't in a million years think two men in love should be denied the legal right to marry.  They would never even think they or the government should have a say in if a person decides to go on the birth control pill or get an abortion.

So I know they exist.  I am just not seeing them.  I am seeing the articles and rants of people who want to devolve our society to some bizarre ideal of "The Stepford Wives" but one in which all the crime, neglect, and oppression is politely ignored.  The gated community vision if you will.

One item that got me up in arms over the Rushdiotic stuff was this article written by a mom whose 16 year old daughter is on birth controls for menstraul problems but was bullied by her peers and called a slut because they heard that anyone on birth control pills is just that from the radio.  Read all about it here.

I don't know what to say.  Like I said, I know most people in the world are reasonable but as a friend of mine once said, those people tend not to run for office because they don't want all the crap that being in the limelight involves.

But this, combined with my obvious aging and impending decrepitude?  Well, I could use another massage.

 

 

French Toast

That there is what I had for breakfast, courtesy of B who made it with some French peasant bread we picked up at a local bakery yesterday with a Groupon.

I am sure some of you are thinking, "Wow, he made home made French toast on a Sunday!"  If you have even a smidgen of appreciation for this, then you are much better human beings than our kids.  Holy crapachino how frustratingly thankless kids can be.  They acted like it was the end of the world, whining about how they don't want French toast, don't like it, can't even conceive of a world wherein it would ever be anything than a poisonous piece of turd on a plate.  This is before they even got a plateful of it dripping in syrup.

If there is one thing that can turn a cheery B instantly sour, it is this sort of crap from our kids.  He literally went from happily singing to himself while cooking to having black clouds over his head in the matter of minutes.

As you can imagine, the reality of the actual taste of the breakfast was delicious.  LM finished his whole plate but refused to admit it was indeed tasty.  A ate half of it and then asked for popcorn.

Speaking of A, she has been having some sort of horrific cold of late which keeps us up all night due to her incessant coughing.  She is on her asthma meds, there is a humidifier in her room, yet still, the coughing, oh the coughing!  I shall go mad with it!

Despite this and the constant running nose and mild fever, the kid is chipper as all get out.  She is constantly dancing and singing while we zombified sleep deprived two attempt to get through the day and figure out a way to get the coughing to stop, if only at night so we can sleep.

I got maybe 1 hour of actual sleep Friday night and drove to CVS at 5:30am with the goal of finding some sort of safe cough syrup for a 3 year old. 

This place has a large parking lot which was deserted save for a giant truck unloading milk for the store.  As I pulled into a spot, I worried in that half asleep way, if it was a handicapped spot since it was right there in front of the store.  With that thought, I slowed down to ensure there was no sign and it was then that I was the recipient of a loud aggressive honking.

Apparently, a car had ridden my tail in and, despite the several lanes of empty parking spots, had decided to park right next to me.  I pulled in and as I got out so did the driver, a grumpy older man in his 70s who unleashed a torrent of rage on me. At 5:30am in a deserted parking lot.

"You idiot!!  You need to pay attention when you drive!  What are you blind?  They should take away your license you stupid bitch!"

I am not proud, but there was something very liberating about calling someone an asshole to their face. 

He stormed into the store and I slowly followed to give him a lot of space as I did not want to run into him again.  As it turned out, we were both bound for the same aisle so there we stood avoiding looking at each other while we searched for cough medicine. Awkward!

I hung out in magazines a bit to give him a head start to pay and leave.

Yes, yes, clearly he too might be all tired and cranky due to his or someone else's coughing.  Why else would he be there so early?

But he is still an asshole.

I Bore Myself

I know I have been a very inconsistent blogger and I wish I could tell you that it was going to change and I was going to embrace some blog every day mentality but the truth is, I have no idea what to write about these days.  I am even losing steam in Facebook land where I look at that little status field staring back and me and all I can think is that I am boring even myself.  I am two steps away from writing what I ate for breakfast, it is that bad.

Nothing is necessarily wrong but there are things that for some reason I know I should do and yet can't seem to do.  There are friends I haven't emailed or talked to in ages and I love them but I can't seem to muster up the energy to reach out and touch them.  I have gone to bed most nights by 9pm with super low energy, sometimes enough to scare me into thinking something is very wrong but I still get up at 6am and do kick ass workouts and then I figure if I can do that, then nothing must be too too wrong, right?

On a side note, I have never been good at taking medication daily so I realized I went a good week or so without taking a multi vitamin and a vitamin D so I have taken those for a couple of days and last night I stayed up until 11pm!

If I had energy, there still would not have been too much exciting to blog about but here is what I would have provided you with:

1)  Readers of my seekrit blog will recall I was not enamored of my manager when I worked at academic institution in Boston.  Recently, I had a tremendously gossipy instant message chat with my friend who still works there, the one who originally got me that job, about something that happened with her. 

We do a lot of work with universities in Africa, hence my trip to Uganda.  Some staff members from Ghana came over for a technical training and this woman invited my friend and another former staff member to join them for lunch.  She told them that she had approval to expense the lunch and even reminded them, as the menus were being passed out, that they could order whatever they wanted as the university was paying for it.  My friend, being diet conscious, got a glass of water and a salad.

Well a couple of weeks later, my ex-boss sent out an email to my friend and the other co-worker.  Turns out that the university had rejected covering the lunch for some reason and she was billing them, her subordinates, for the lunch!  She required my friend to pay $20 for his salad and water and the other guy to pay $30 for whatever he got and she wanted it in cash, paid to her, by the end of the week.

Can you imagine that?  Even in my worst financial straights I would never ever ask someone to pay for this.  She or someone made a mistake somewhere so it was up to her to eat the cost of it.  I imagine it must not have been pleasant for her to all of the sudden owe money she thought was covered but well, sucks to be her.

As my friend put it, "I know exactly how much I am worth to her now.  $20."  He is actively looking for a new position.  He had started the job search earlier but I think this was the nail on the coffin so to speak.  It might have been different if she wasn't such an unpleasant person to work for but this lunch thing?  Wow!

2)  My friends are getting married in Palo Alto, CA in August and we are going to go!  After the big two week trip last year I swore we would not be able to do such a massive trip for many years to come as it was really expensive and exhausting.  But then we got word that friends of ours who we really adore were going to get hitched and a bunch of people we love would be in attendance and I thought long and hard and decided we had to go.

You see, there has been a lot of glass half full rim dipped in poison and rubbed in ebola salt stuff going on for us.  B's parents continue their sad decline, my dad is doing well health-wise but my relationship to him leaves much to be desired.  Every day I gravitate to all the awfulness in the news and instead of stopping to smell the roses, I just smell gas.

I decided that we really need to celebrate the really good things that happen and that people really do matter much more than things.  So yes, this will put our "house savings" off for a bit but it will amount to a matter of months rather than years.  We have an aggressive goal of saving $25k cash a year for the next 3 years because a house here goes for $400k and that 20% doesn't grow on trees.

Instead of the full on 2 weeks to visit everyone, we will go to the Bay Area for 4 days, spend a travel day to get down to Bakersfield, visit with B's parents for 2 days and fly home.  We are going to cut every single corner financially we can to make this a cheaper trip but oh, it will happen.  We will dance at our friend's wedding and toast to their happiness surrounded by dear friends.

So that's, as my mom would say, the "scoopy poop."

How's by you?

Kvetch Guide to Marital Happiness

There have been a lot of surprise divorce announcements of late.  Oh, not from anyone I actually know in real life, but being that most of my friends are in their late 30s and early 40s and reaching close to 10 years of marriage, statistically, it is bound to happen.

I don’t read Dooce too often, maybe a couple of times a year, but there it was, her husband had asked for a divorce and moved out of the house.  Then, over at a blog I read daily, Get Rich Slowly, the creator and main voice of the blog announced that he had asked his wife of close to 20 years for a divorce.  In fact, he turned that into a practical article on how to move into a much smaller place.

Not long after, Heidi Klum and Seal announced their split.  I don’t usually give two shits about the romantic lives of celebrities, but this one really shocked me because they had seemed so in love and devoted to each other in all the magazine articles and interviews I had read about them.  They have 4 young kids together and renewed their vows every year!  Where did it go wrong?

This got me thinking about my own marriage.  Now don’t worry, B and I are still going strong.  In fact, if he ever did ask for a divorce or leave me, it would honestly be able to say I never saw it coming.  But I am not worried.  B is a very devoted and loving husband and I am that kind of wife too.

It did, however, get me to think about what makes us tick as a couple.  Then it made me think, hey, we have some tips and tricks to share for marital happiness.  Why not write a post about them? 

So here it is:  The Kvetch Kouple’s Guide to a Happy Marriage

Tip One:  It’s the Little Things

It is important to show your spouse you care every day through little gestures of love and kindness.  For example, why not offer him a relaxing cup of tea after he is done putting an exhausted crabby toddler to bed?  It all starts with asking them what their needs are.

Me:  Hey honey, would you like a cup of tea?

B:  (surprised gratitude) Yes, yes I really would!

Me:  Great, make me a cup too please.

Tip Two:  Don’t ever Forget Little Pet “Love Names”

It’s just you and your kids at home typically so no one should be embarrassed if you call them by the little pet love names you maybe used when you first got together.  It is not like you are on the loudspeaker at the grocery store asking for “Schmoopie” to come to the customer service desk.

Me: (Exasperated) Can you take the trash out?
B:  You forgot to say “bitch”
Me:  The “bitch” was implied.

Alternatively, it is always a delight to surprise your spouse with a pet name, especially when they least expect it.

Me:  Hi, I have a gift certificate, my husband ordered it online. (Hands, paper printout to receptionist at desk of spa).

Receptionist: (typing in number from paper into computer screen and then lifting eye brows) Are you “Tiger Drawers?”

Tip Three:  Give Little Gifts to Show How Much You Care

B and I don’t exchange a lot of presents.  We gave up on doing that on our wedding anniversary maybe with the first one.  As the kids came along, the birthday presents for each other went the wayside and we tend to try to buy each other one gift for Christmakah.

But what of Valentine’s Day?

Now I know many people expect and actually demand a gift on this manufactured holiday.  If they don’t get flowers or chocolates or jewelry from their spouse on this day, they feel shafted.  You may not feel that way but I bet you know some people who do.  I, in fact, know a good 4 women who have so much as told me that if their husbands don’t give them a “serious” present for Valentine’s Day, they will be pissed. 

One of my favorite Valentine’s Day love gifts I ever received from B was this:

 

 

He gave me this about 5 years ago and up until a few months ago, it stayed in all its glory until LM started reading and then we had to cut off the heart and toss its “shit bitch” glory into the trash.  Since A loves the bear so much, she would often cuddle it at home and be upset when it was not allowed to leave the house and be her “nap buddy” at school.  Now it often is.

Recently, B shared this tale with his co-workers and the reaction was sort of surprising.  Many of them, men and women, were horrified.  One woman said, “If my husband gave me that I would burn it!”  Another inferred that something was very wrong with B and I if we thought that was a funny present to give and receive.

But, as you can tell from this post, this is just how we roll.  B and I survive the ups and downs of life and marriage with humor.  Everyone might not get our humor but it works for us and the biggest marriage secret of them all is to just find what works for you as a couple and keep it going.

But, if you are interested in purchasing your own “shit bitch” bear to spice it up, you can get it here.

 

 

 

Where did the time go?

Today we had LM's 7th birthday party although tomorrow is his official birthday.  I started blogging when he was nearing one so that means that I have been on this site a whole lot longer than it feels.  Some of you have been with me from the very beginning, can you believe it? 

I started the blog because I needed an outlet for all the problems we were having with baby LM and his developmental issues.  I was obsessed with his being autistic and I can still remember the first time he really made eye contact with me and smiled.  He was about 14 months old. In contrast, Baby A was giving us the smiley love around month 4.

I can still recall being told he was mentally retarded by the developmental pediatrician and when I asked if I should stop his college fund she said he could probably go to a junior college.

But here we are all these years later and I have to say, I have a pretty awesome and smart kid.  He is loving first grade and is behaving in school and I even got told by the guys running his extended day room that he is the first one with the pleases and the thank yous and that even when he has an off day, he is still pretty polite.

At his party today he rocked our world when he passed out goody bags and thanked each individual kid for coming.

He loves all things ancient Egypt and has begged me, literally begged me to take him to the Museum of Fine Art because he loves to go through the ancient Egyptian wing and see all the other exhibits in the museum.  I am not kidding, I reserved discount tickets through our library for next week and for 3 weeks now he has been counting down the days on our calendar.

He is starting to read, and does a pretty good job of it too, although he claims he doesn't enjoy it.  He rather we do it for him.  I wish he were a little more excited to learn to read, and I keep playing up all the cool things he can now understand, signs and directions, but still, he drags his feet over having to do it.

He can be very shy and sometimes antisocial, especially with new kids or ones he hasn't seen in a while.  That said, when he is with his friends and with his sister, he can be the life of the party.  He has inherited the comic goofy gene from his dad.

He is obsessed with birds, especially parrots, and he loves to draw and play the wii marble mania game and lordy I am thankful for that because it is the only way I can get him to do his homework without a fight.  It is the point now when he runs at me with my hands full of dinner prep and begs to do homework because he knows he can earn wii game time.  I hope he is obsessed with it a good long time because I never want to go back to the times we both cried from stress trying to get it done with him.

Yes he is a handful sometimes and the ADHD is a part of him that can reduce B and I to tears but the older he gets, the more wonderful he becomes.

I am just so thankful that he is ours.

Behold, our home made homage to ancient Egypt - in cake form!  Not one of our best works but the kids liked eating the pyramid.

 

No more wisdom

For most of my adult life dentists have wowed over the fact that I never had a cavity but tried to find ways to deal with all the pits in my teeth that make them look forever yellowed and gross.  Unfortunately, no solutions are covered by insurance since they are deemed "cosmetic" no matter how the dentists tried to process it.

But, with a few out of pocket cleanings a year, things were mostly held in check until a couple of years ago when I started developing "deep pockets" around the wisdom teeth.  I had to see gum specialists and have some deep cleanings and the verdict was that I could have my wisdom teeth removed or I could basically count on these deep cleanings and trouble every year.

So 6 months ago I scheduled my surgery for January 4 because I would be able to use flexible spending money of 2012 to pay for the $350 which is not covered by insurance.  Then I forgot about it because, hello?  Six months ago.

When the dentist called with the reminder I panicked a little because I had this new job and I didn't want to make a bad impression by taking time off so early in the game.  I explained it to my boss who vividely rememberred his own surgery and he told me to take the day after the surgery off.  Then he said he didn't want to talk about it anymore because it was making him sick just thinking of his own memories of it.

Surely it couldn't be so bad?  B had his out soon after we moved in together and I remember picking him up from the dentist's office and having him be so delighted at how slurred and ridiculous he sounded that he wouldn't shut up.  I desperately wanted him to do so because his mouth smelled rotten and every time he thought he was being funny, he was just grossing me out.  We weren't even married yet.  But that is my only memory of his procedure.  In my mind, he snapped back from it pretty quickly.

My own experience was well, not so fabulous.

For those of you who never had this done, or had it done so long ago they can't remember, basically they numbed and injected my mouth and gums in many places until it felt like my tongue was a large but uncrusty baguette and when I spoke, I very much resembled a stroke victim.  Then it was plier time! (not to be confused with Hammer time but feel free to hear MC Hammmer singing around in your head).

The top two came out in seconds and with nary a gross cracking sound.  The bottom two, well they fought back. 

At one point, the dentist had the assistant hold my head down - one hand on my forehead, the other on my chin, while the dentist twisted and yanked and all but asked me if it was safe.  (Do you get my Marathon Man reference?  Well, do you?)  I heard sounds that I hope to never hear again.  I panicked a few times and they had to stop and let me sit up for a bit.  Eventually, after about 20 minutes of this, the last one finally gave up its fight and popped out of my mouth.

Then the fun really began.

They don't put me under so they told me upfront that I could drive home.  What they didn't tell me was that I couldn't control my mouth and the fact that there would be a steady stream of blood dripping down my chin.  I didn't know this until the person working the pharmacy actually cringed and covered her mouth when I handed her my prescription for vicodin.

So they go over the instructions of what I need to do over the next couple of days.  Basically, it amounts to not eating anything harder than yogurt and taking 4 ibuprofin pills every 8 hours and a vicodin at night.  Then, they bring me some ibuprofin to get me started.

Here's the thing, if your mouth is numbed up but good and your tongue is for all intensive purposes, a dead snake, it is very hard to swallow pills.  In fact, it took me about 5 attempts before I got 2 down and during this time water splashed out of my mouth and all over my clothes and the hygienist said to another that "this was her favorite part."

I can't blame her.  I think if I were watching a video of this I would laugh my ass off.  When swallowing water becomes something that one cannot do without hi-jinks ensuing, you might as well get a laugh track.

I would have to fish around in my mouth to see if there were still pills that did not go down.  There usually were.

Then it was off to CVS where I grossed so many people out unwittingly as I did not realize that I had bloody drool all over my face until I got home.  I thought the people looking at me and then quickly averting their eyes and rushing the other direction were reacting to my outfit.  Then it was just my kids laughing at me and making fun of my speech.  B too.  Kids can be so cruel.

What I was really not expecting was how bad the recovery pain would be and how long it would last.  I was waking up at 3am in pain because the meds had worn off.  This was still going on a week later.  I consulted my good friends on the book of face who suggested things like "dry socket" which is some horrifying painful thing that can happen when getting your wisdom teeth removed.

I finally called and spoke to the dentist a week after and he sighed audibly several times during the conversation, especially when I would say things like, "Some people I spoke to said I might have dry socket" or "I didn't get a little thing to clean out my wisdom teeth holes but a lot of people I spoke to said they had to do that when they got theirs out."

I think my favorite quote of his was, "Were any of these people dentists?"  It reminded me of a time when I was freaked out about something going on during my pregnancy with LM and I ended up in urgent care and the OBGYN on call, after hearing me out, said, "Why did I even bother to go to medical school when there is now Google?"

But there was another side effect as well, I developed these horrible headaches despite being on massive doses of ibuprofin.  I am someone who hasb't had many headaches in her 42 years so when I get them and they don't go away with meds and they last for days, I immediately think "brain tumor."  Yes, it is because of my mom.  Her tumor was growing for years and we never knew and she never knew and they kept asking us, "Didn't she ever complain about headaches?"

So, after once more seeking advice on the book of face I went to see my doctor who told me what one of my FB friends said it was, a "rebound headache" from taking high dosages of ibuprofin for close to 2 weeks. He told me to go meds free for 5 days and if I still had a headache to take Excedrin and if it was still happening to call him.

Three days meds free and no more headaches. 

He did look in my chart and commented that I had come in last January with headaches too and that time it was the result of a massive sinus infection.  He joked that January was my headache month.

It has been about 2.5 weeks since my wisdom teeth were removed and I am just starting to feel normal again.  I did not like the constant pain and I really feel for people who live with chronic pain because it is hard to function and be nice and not snap at everyone when you are hurting.

I am so happy that these suckers can only come out once in a lifetime!