Dear Friend,
I wish I knew where you were right now. I wish I knew where life has taken you. How it's possibly changed you. Who you've become. Because in the last several years, I have changed so much, that I can't imagine you haven't changed as well. Maybe you're married, with kids? Maybe a professional in a large city. Maybe living at home doing small jobs.
I don't know. Because you don't tell me. In fact, the last time I spoke with you was over three years ago when by chance we were both in our hometown, me for my Grandma's funeral when my first son was just two weeks old. Before that, you last saw me at the baby shower for my daughter. You gave me your temporary address, said you wanted to see a football game that Boom would coach, and off you went.
I sent you the schedule, along with a comic strip you wanted, and waited. I called and left a message, and waited. And I'm still waiting. Though why, I'm not sure. I even sent you an invitation to my baby shower last year, back before I knew they were twins. I don't even know if the letter got to you as I sent it to the only address I had of where your parents used to live. But it never came back...and neither did you.
I should block you out of my mind. I try to. It seems you've been able to block me out of yours. But for some reason, I can't. I think of you often. I would love to share my life with you still. I'd tell you all about my kids, my love for clay, and my dreams. That's the one thing we shared so well - our dreams. Not GOALS, mind you, but dreams. Things that are possible and so never given up on. Goal may not be reached, but dreams...dreams are always obtainable.
I wonder what you'd think of me and my lifestyle and choices now. I know I'm not perfect, but I'd like to think that I've changed for the better over the last several years. Life has a way of doing that to you. Kids and circumstances have changed the way I think about so many things.
Would you be shocked at how I nurse to candidly? Probably not. At how I sleep with my children? Maybe. At how I've chosen to home school, and even UNschool? Probably.
But I'll never know. When I go on walks I picture you beside me and us talking. I'd like to think you'd like the person I've become. A little less judgmental, a more open person. I'd like to think you'd like my kids, if you got to know them.
And that's what hurts. Because you DO know other people's kids. People who weren't by your side for 6 years of your life. People you changed your life for though you only knew them for a short time. And yet you don't even know I have four kids now. I don't even know if you care...
I wish I knew if you finally accepted yourself as a person. If you finally understand that it wasn't something I WAS, but the fact that I LIKED what I was, good or not. You were never second-rate. You just never accepted what you were...
I wish I could just give up on you. Throw you out of my head and be done with it. But part of me misses what we had. Despite our differences, we shared so many things and you will forever be a great part of my past. I just wish I knew what drove you away from my future, and I wish I could apologize. Because I still love you, and I miss you. A good friend is hard to come by. And apparently, a loyal friend is even harder.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Monday, December 17, 2007
There Are Days...
Lately I find myself in a constant struggle between trying to cherish the moments I have with my babies and at the same time wanting it to be over with so they are two years old and I can enjoy them so much more.
Ever since my firstborn entered this world, I have had the realization that not all babies are born equal. And mine seem to be on the side of the scale known as "high needs." My son wasn't near as bad, but he still required walking most of the day (NOT in a sling, thank you, apparently) and nursing much at night.
But with the twins, it was unthinkable to me once they came out that I'd have to handle this DOUBLE time. And yet here I am...
And my little girl has all of a sudden, and I mean sudden as in the past week only, become JUST LIKE HER SISTER.
She now is fussy most of the time, has stopped sleeping at night and after I nurse her I can't put her down without expecting her to cry a few minutes later only to end up nursing again as anything else just won't do (and this from a baby who a week ago would REFUSE to nurse at night when not hungry!)
She went from falling asleep in the car seat to screaming in it the whole entire ride (and no, pacifiers won't even go near her mouth...her sonic scream scares them, apparently.)
And so I'm back to anxious nights where I don't know after I put them down if I can enjoy a movie, some time alone, or some couple time with Boom before I begin to here her whimper which turns to screaming in 3 short seconds. Will it be 10 minutes after I put her down? 20? Or maybe a whole hour or two?
Who knows. But one thing I do know - it WILL end. Eventually. After she's a year old and I night wean her, which will also involve crying, I'm sure. And if she's at all like her sister, even at 2 years old she'll be quite high maintenance, and I'm not looking forward to it.
But I do enjoy her smiles. She is such a sweetheart beneath it all. And I know it's not her fault.
But sometimes I wonder if it IS mine. I mean, I know technically it can't be (my two boys are SO not that tempermental!) But yet when I see other people with easy babies and kids, I have to wonder why mine AREN'T that way. Why can't I have the baby, just once, who takes a pacifier and who loves a car ride (since I DO travel home, ya know!) and who doesn't mind sleeping without a break? Or who enjoys playing for hours on end without being walked back and forth endlessy?
And so I know that I will be glad when they are older and I know for sure there will be no more. Not because I haven't enjoyed my children, but to be honest, because my babies are very hard work and I'm wore out. I want to enjoy my kids, and more babies would be less enjoying my older ones. As it is, my two oldest pretty much do their own thing all day right now, and I hate that I'm not part of it. I can't wait to join in again.
And as for my sister, the twins are home and doing well. They had a rough time at first with the one girl in the NICU for a couple of days where they fed her formula though they wouldn't let my sister nurse, and my sister developed a spinal headache, then both twins were low on weight so they were told to supplement, which led to nipple confusion, and then they all developed thrush, and one had bad jaundice. So there's the summary.
But now I think they are doing well. Weight is us, jaundice was gone, no more supplementing, and thrush (last I heard) is going away. But I will say it does, unfortunately, affirm the reasons why I choose to stay away from the hospital....
And now I must once again hit the sack, and hope for a few hours before I parent my child in bed, because it really ISN'T her fault, and even if it were, there's not a lot I can do about it (believe me, crying it out will not work for her type - just ask her sister!)
Ever since my firstborn entered this world, I have had the realization that not all babies are born equal. And mine seem to be on the side of the scale known as "high needs." My son wasn't near as bad, but he still required walking most of the day (NOT in a sling, thank you, apparently) and nursing much at night.
But with the twins, it was unthinkable to me once they came out that I'd have to handle this DOUBLE time. And yet here I am...
And my little girl has all of a sudden, and I mean sudden as in the past week only, become JUST LIKE HER SISTER.
She now is fussy most of the time, has stopped sleeping at night and after I nurse her I can't put her down without expecting her to cry a few minutes later only to end up nursing again as anything else just won't do (and this from a baby who a week ago would REFUSE to nurse at night when not hungry!)
She went from falling asleep in the car seat to screaming in it the whole entire ride (and no, pacifiers won't even go near her mouth...her sonic scream scares them, apparently.)
And so I'm back to anxious nights where I don't know after I put them down if I can enjoy a movie, some time alone, or some couple time with Boom before I begin to here her whimper which turns to screaming in 3 short seconds. Will it be 10 minutes after I put her down? 20? Or maybe a whole hour or two?
Who knows. But one thing I do know - it WILL end. Eventually. After she's a year old and I night wean her, which will also involve crying, I'm sure. And if she's at all like her sister, even at 2 years old she'll be quite high maintenance, and I'm not looking forward to it.
But I do enjoy her smiles. She is such a sweetheart beneath it all. And I know it's not her fault.
But sometimes I wonder if it IS mine. I mean, I know technically it can't be (my two boys are SO not that tempermental!) But yet when I see other people with easy babies and kids, I have to wonder why mine AREN'T that way. Why can't I have the baby, just once, who takes a pacifier and who loves a car ride (since I DO travel home, ya know!) and who doesn't mind sleeping without a break? Or who enjoys playing for hours on end without being walked back and forth endlessy?
And so I know that I will be glad when they are older and I know for sure there will be no more. Not because I haven't enjoyed my children, but to be honest, because my babies are very hard work and I'm wore out. I want to enjoy my kids, and more babies would be less enjoying my older ones. As it is, my two oldest pretty much do their own thing all day right now, and I hate that I'm not part of it. I can't wait to join in again.
And as for my sister, the twins are home and doing well. They had a rough time at first with the one girl in the NICU for a couple of days where they fed her formula though they wouldn't let my sister nurse, and my sister developed a spinal headache, then both twins were low on weight so they were told to supplement, which led to nipple confusion, and then they all developed thrush, and one had bad jaundice. So there's the summary.
But now I think they are doing well. Weight is us, jaundice was gone, no more supplementing, and thrush (last I heard) is going away. But I will say it does, unfortunately, affirm the reasons why I choose to stay away from the hospital....
And now I must once again hit the sack, and hope for a few hours before I parent my child in bed, because it really ISN'T her fault, and even if it were, there's not a lot I can do about it (believe me, crying it out will not work for her type - just ask her sister!)
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Business of Birthing
Wow. Tonight was a blast. And I just wish everyone could experience these feelings...
Ricki Lake made a documentary about women and birthing, hospitals and homebirths. The are showing screenings all over the place, and one happened to be held about an hour and a half from here, so my midwife e-mailed me and told me about it and I went with her and my doula and met up with my other midwife who was speaking on the forum afterwards.
I was so afraid the twins would be restless and fussy, as they are at that age (almost 5 months!) where they can't do what they want to do, yet, but aren't always happy with you doing it for them, and get bored too easily. Especially after last night's cell group at church where I had to leave the room to calm them down, I thought I must be nuts for wanting to go to a movie screening just because I wanted to meet other women who thought like me...
But I am SO glad I did!
There was about 70 or so people there, mostly college age girls (it was put on by a girl at the college who's training to be a nurse midwife.) The movie was great and well done. Got a lot of responses verbally during the showing (like gasps, laughter, etc.)
During the single C-section scene, the whole room filled with "Ooh..." "Uhhh" "Augh!" They were completely turned off by it. Even after watching several shots of naked women moaning and laboring and birthing their babies, this scene was the first to get a negative response, which I thought was great.
I think it was neat that these girls can see a different side of the American myth that has become the norm in child bearing. That the one great power we as women possess, and that was given to us by God, has been taken away from us in the name of empowerment, ironically. That there are different, better ways of introducing your children to the world.
One point that made me feel better about our births was that many people research cars, houses, etc. and spend lots of money on them. Wouldn't you think it's also wise to research birth and spend money on the one time-event of your child entering this world? To get the outcome that you want, you may have to pay out of pocket, even when insurance would cover a hospital birth. But to me, it WAS worth it. Every penny.
And yet people think we're selfish, like we are putting our desire for this most natural high ahead of our desire for a healthy baby. Yet the two go hand in hand, and often without this natural high the healthy baby only comes after great cost, whether to the baby or else the mother, even if the doctors brush it off.
Anyway, afterwards they were asking questions, and my doula pointed me out, and so the one girl asked that when we discovered we were having twins, how did that play into my decisions to birth at home...and of course my one midwife up front said, "Do not answer that question!" But I did, and explained we didn't know we were having twins...and that not all midwives would do twin home births.
Then as everyone filed out, three different midwives stopped to chat with me, as well as another mom who homebirthed, whose husband was there and also spoke up. (a girl asked how to get her fiance on board with homebirth since he was scared of the idea. The husband talk about how neat the birth was and such, and I mentioned that men can also be proud to have a wife who births naturally, as well as be a "man" and catch the baby or just plain be there...it's an ego boost for them, as well.)
It was neat to mention the movie, "Birth As We Know It" and get nods. It was neat talking about birthing naturally and not getting comments about how archaic it is. It was neat being in the presence of women who understand saving your placentas.
And best of all, the babies were WONDERFUL!!!
They slept to Union City, we ate McDonald's and they were good, they slept (with some in-car nursing in the car-seats one at a time) the rest of the way to Meadville, and they were quiet and content during the film and afterwards, and fell asleep after nursing them on the pillow, and then woke up happy. Went back to sleep (again with nursing and then a pacifier) on the way to McDonald's, then the girl woke up about 10 minutes before home, then the boy and her were crying as I dropped the doula off just seconds from our house.
So overall, a great evening. And now I must go to bed.
But first, on this day of birthing thought, my sister had her baby girls by C-section (elective, 37 1/2 weeks, due to many factors.) They are both healthy and mom is doing fine, first girl was 6 lbs 12 oz. 19.25 inches long, and the second one was 5 lbs. 6 oz. and 18.75 inches long. I guess as of tonight the first baby still has not nursed, and there is fluid in her lungs (chest x-ray confirmed) so I'm not sure if she's in the NICU or not, but were praying not since they'd keep here there 48 hours minimum if she's admitted.
And hopefully I'll update soon, but for now, I must go to bed.
Ricki Lake made a documentary about women and birthing, hospitals and homebirths. The are showing screenings all over the place, and one happened to be held about an hour and a half from here, so my midwife e-mailed me and told me about it and I went with her and my doula and met up with my other midwife who was speaking on the forum afterwards.
I was so afraid the twins would be restless and fussy, as they are at that age (almost 5 months!) where they can't do what they want to do, yet, but aren't always happy with you doing it for them, and get bored too easily. Especially after last night's cell group at church where I had to leave the room to calm them down, I thought I must be nuts for wanting to go to a movie screening just because I wanted to meet other women who thought like me...
But I am SO glad I did!
There was about 70 or so people there, mostly college age girls (it was put on by a girl at the college who's training to be a nurse midwife.) The movie was great and well done. Got a lot of responses verbally during the showing (like gasps, laughter, etc.)
During the single C-section scene, the whole room filled with "Ooh..." "Uhhh" "Augh!" They were completely turned off by it. Even after watching several shots of naked women moaning and laboring and birthing their babies, this scene was the first to get a negative response, which I thought was great.
I think it was neat that these girls can see a different side of the American myth that has become the norm in child bearing. That the one great power we as women possess, and that was given to us by God, has been taken away from us in the name of empowerment, ironically. That there are different, better ways of introducing your children to the world.
One point that made me feel better about our births was that many people research cars, houses, etc. and spend lots of money on them. Wouldn't you think it's also wise to research birth and spend money on the one time-event of your child entering this world? To get the outcome that you want, you may have to pay out of pocket, even when insurance would cover a hospital birth. But to me, it WAS worth it. Every penny.
And yet people think we're selfish, like we are putting our desire for this most natural high ahead of our desire for a healthy baby. Yet the two go hand in hand, and often without this natural high the healthy baby only comes after great cost, whether to the baby or else the mother, even if the doctors brush it off.
Anyway, afterwards they were asking questions, and my doula pointed me out, and so the one girl asked that when we discovered we were having twins, how did that play into my decisions to birth at home...and of course my one midwife up front said, "Do not answer that question!" But I did, and explained we didn't know we were having twins...and that not all midwives would do twin home births.
Then as everyone filed out, three different midwives stopped to chat with me, as well as another mom who homebirthed, whose husband was there and also spoke up. (a girl asked how to get her fiance on board with homebirth since he was scared of the idea. The husband talk about how neat the birth was and such, and I mentioned that men can also be proud to have a wife who births naturally, as well as be a "man" and catch the baby or just plain be there...it's an ego boost for them, as well.)
It was neat to mention the movie, "Birth As We Know It" and get nods. It was neat talking about birthing naturally and not getting comments about how archaic it is. It was neat being in the presence of women who understand saving your placentas.
And best of all, the babies were WONDERFUL!!!
They slept to Union City, we ate McDonald's and they were good, they slept (with some in-car nursing in the car-seats one at a time) the rest of the way to Meadville, and they were quiet and content during the film and afterwards, and fell asleep after nursing them on the pillow, and then woke up happy. Went back to sleep (again with nursing and then a pacifier) on the way to McDonald's, then the girl woke up about 10 minutes before home, then the boy and her were crying as I dropped the doula off just seconds from our house.
So overall, a great evening. And now I must go to bed.
But first, on this day of birthing thought, my sister had her baby girls by C-section (elective, 37 1/2 weeks, due to many factors.) They are both healthy and mom is doing fine, first girl was 6 lbs 12 oz. 19.25 inches long, and the second one was 5 lbs. 6 oz. and 18.75 inches long. I guess as of tonight the first baby still has not nursed, and there is fluid in her lungs (chest x-ray confirmed) so I'm not sure if she's in the NICU or not, but were praying not since they'd keep here there 48 hours minimum if she's admitted.
And hopefully I'll update soon, but for now, I must go to bed.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
In Which I Compare Myself To A Hobbit
Okay. Big breath. Why? Because I am sitting alone and not holding someone. Not holding someone and not doing housework. Which doesn't happen often right now.
I have so many thoughts I could post about. But where to start? Do I talk about my fears of having everything anyone could want, and thus someday, maybe not today, but someday it will be taken from me. Something will go wrong. One of my children, or my husband, will die. Or I will die.
Do I talk about my torn desire to just have one baby when I obviously wouldn't want to be rid of either one of the twins. But to be able to go to the playground, play with my kids, shop in a store. Things I could do with one baby but are plain impossible with two (who are both exclusively nursing, won't take a pacifier, and of course have two older siblings under the age of five still.)
Or do I talk about my selfish dreams of still doing something someday that's just for ME? Of selling clay whistles and corn husk dolls. Of potting and playing for the fun of it.
But maybe I could mention my worry about homeschooling, especially un-schooling, as I hope to do with all my kids till they turn 12 or so. Will I be able to do it? Do it well? Will I have the time to file the necessary paperwork required by law?
Instead let me just mention breifly (so I can go to sleep while I can) what it feels like right now to be caring for two newborns instead of one (and thank you, Lord, for not giving me three, blessings though they are. And bless those you HAVE given three or more with extra hands they surely need!)
First, imagine an 11 or so pound weight in each hand. Or more accurately, arm. Because this weight is roughly odd shaped and is approximately 22 inches long, say 10 inches wide, and a few inches thick. Not as easy as a dumbell, eh? But that's not all. Now picture said weight to wiggle and squirm and occasionally throw itself away from your body as both are pretty unstable little things. A little tougher, now, right? But then add the bout of crying in there, or the dead weight of one sleeping until you feel it's safe to put it down, and you'll get the general idea.
And then picture this pattern repeated several times a day from 7 AM to 9 PM and you know what I feel like. My arms are sore. Very sore. My legs are sore from the walking and standing and my knees make me feel like a geriatric. Because my kids don't stand for sitting in a car seat all day staring around them or playing with their toes. My kids never have.
From the time Pumpkin was born we have been walking our kids. It's what they've required from us. And it's my dues, I guess. But it's SO much harder with two.
And here's where the Hobbit part comes in. You know how hungry you get from nursing one newborn? I used to starve if I didn't eat at least every 2 hours. SOMETHING. I would shake eventually from the low blood sugar. Same thing when I'm pregnant.
So imagine TWO nurslings! I feel like a hobbit with their second breakfasts and lunches and so on. I am always eating, or wishing to eat. And the babies are growing quite well, thank you.
It's funny how this was the one pregnancy where I didn't have prenatal vitamins (just stopped taking them and haven't started back up) and yet the babies were healthy in utero, especially being twins, went full term, and are bigger than Pumpkin was at their age. Amazing the way God made our bodies.
And that's where I'll stop. Because my brain no longer functions very well. So all my great thoughts are lost on my echoing mind during those moments when I'm walking half of my children around the house and by now I can barely remember what I'm daydreaming about as I fall to sleep. At least that's the one thing I can do better than before I had the twins. I can sleep. No insomnia or pain here, thank goodness.
And so, Good Night. Sleep well.
I have so many thoughts I could post about. But where to start? Do I talk about my fears of having everything anyone could want, and thus someday, maybe not today, but someday it will be taken from me. Something will go wrong. One of my children, or my husband, will die. Or I will die.
Do I talk about my torn desire to just have one baby when I obviously wouldn't want to be rid of either one of the twins. But to be able to go to the playground, play with my kids, shop in a store. Things I could do with one baby but are plain impossible with two (who are both exclusively nursing, won't take a pacifier, and of course have two older siblings under the age of five still.)
Or do I talk about my selfish dreams of still doing something someday that's just for ME? Of selling clay whistles and corn husk dolls. Of potting and playing for the fun of it.
But maybe I could mention my worry about homeschooling, especially un-schooling, as I hope to do with all my kids till they turn 12 or so. Will I be able to do it? Do it well? Will I have the time to file the necessary paperwork required by law?
Instead let me just mention breifly (so I can go to sleep while I can) what it feels like right now to be caring for two newborns instead of one (and thank you, Lord, for not giving me three, blessings though they are. And bless those you HAVE given three or more with extra hands they surely need!)
First, imagine an 11 or so pound weight in each hand. Or more accurately, arm. Because this weight is roughly odd shaped and is approximately 22 inches long, say 10 inches wide, and a few inches thick. Not as easy as a dumbell, eh? But that's not all. Now picture said weight to wiggle and squirm and occasionally throw itself away from your body as both are pretty unstable little things. A little tougher, now, right? But then add the bout of crying in there, or the dead weight of one sleeping until you feel it's safe to put it down, and you'll get the general idea.
And then picture this pattern repeated several times a day from 7 AM to 9 PM and you know what I feel like. My arms are sore. Very sore. My legs are sore from the walking and standing and my knees make me feel like a geriatric. Because my kids don't stand for sitting in a car seat all day staring around them or playing with their toes. My kids never have.
From the time Pumpkin was born we have been walking our kids. It's what they've required from us. And it's my dues, I guess. But it's SO much harder with two.
And here's where the Hobbit part comes in. You know how hungry you get from nursing one newborn? I used to starve if I didn't eat at least every 2 hours. SOMETHING. I would shake eventually from the low blood sugar. Same thing when I'm pregnant.
So imagine TWO nurslings! I feel like a hobbit with their second breakfasts and lunches and so on. I am always eating, or wishing to eat. And the babies are growing quite well, thank you.
It's funny how this was the one pregnancy where I didn't have prenatal vitamins (just stopped taking them and haven't started back up) and yet the babies were healthy in utero, especially being twins, went full term, and are bigger than Pumpkin was at their age. Amazing the way God made our bodies.
And that's where I'll stop. Because my brain no longer functions very well. So all my great thoughts are lost on my echoing mind during those moments when I'm walking half of my children around the house and by now I can barely remember what I'm daydreaming about as I fall to sleep. At least that's the one thing I can do better than before I had the twins. I can sleep. No insomnia or pain here, thank goodness.
And so, Good Night. Sleep well.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Friendly with the Flies
Well, I have some pictures to share for the fun of it. And a story.
Picture my two older children on the front porch swinging fly swatters around and trying to get every bug they see. Then picture my sweet, gentle (yeah, right) daughter saying, "Come here fly...I just want to hug you...I just want to kiss you..."
Then she tells me that she's saying this to the flies because they don't want to be killed....so she's basically admitting to me that she's luring them in to mercilessly kill them...
And then maybe you'll understand why I found this particular figurine amusing:
Here's a picture of Rugger with a birthday present favorite - tractors:
And here's more of the twins:
Picture my two older children on the front porch swinging fly swatters around and trying to get every bug they see. Then picture my sweet, gentle (yeah, right) daughter saying, "Come here fly...I just want to hug you...I just want to kiss you..."
Then she tells me that she's saying this to the flies because they don't want to be killed....so she's basically admitting to me that she's luring them in to mercilessly kill them...
And then maybe you'll understand why I found this particular figurine amusing:
Here's a picture of Rugger with a birthday present favorite - tractors:
And here's more of the twins:
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Proof of My Instincts
Well, here's the link to a response to my own thread asking others who knew they were having twins whether or not they could tell physically yet that there were two in there...
Proof
written February 16, 2007
I wasn't planning on getting an ultrasound this time around since the only OB in my area isn't very friendly to homebirthers and in general isn't the best place to go.
But my midwife knows the signs of twins and if she suspects then we'd verify by ultrasound. I'm not sure how soon she'd know for sure, since I was 17 and a half when she was here and I'll be 21 and a half the next time.
It's just that my fundal height seems to be getting higher quicker than it should, I'm gaining weight quicker, etc. And it's probably all in my head, but I just thought I'd ask and see what you gals felt at this stage.
I definately feel only one baby when I push around on my belly, because you can feel the lump and then it swims away after I've poked it.
But like some of you said, if the other baby (if there was one) was underneath, then I'd not know, anyway.
I actually hope it's NOT twins just because I don't know how I'd handle taking care of two newborns at once, and I have only nursed my other two, never dealt with bottles, so I'd want to with this one, too, and twins make it even harder, etc.
Thanks for the input, though, and congratulations on each of your own double bundles of joy! I hope you all have a healthy and uneventful pregnancy :)
Deb
Proof
written February 16, 2007
I wasn't planning on getting an ultrasound this time around since the only OB in my area isn't very friendly to homebirthers and in general isn't the best place to go.
But my midwife knows the signs of twins and if she suspects then we'd verify by ultrasound. I'm not sure how soon she'd know for sure, since I was 17 and a half when she was here and I'll be 21 and a half the next time.
It's just that my fundal height seems to be getting higher quicker than it should, I'm gaining weight quicker, etc. And it's probably all in my head, but I just thought I'd ask and see what you gals felt at this stage.
I definately feel only one baby when I push around on my belly, because you can feel the lump and then it swims away after I've poked it.
But like some of you said, if the other baby (if there was one) was underneath, then I'd not know, anyway.
I actually hope it's NOT twins just because I don't know how I'd handle taking care of two newborns at once, and I have only nursed my other two, never dealt with bottles, so I'd want to with this one, too, and twins make it even harder, etc.
Thanks for the input, though, and congratulations on each of your own double bundles of joy! I hope you all have a healthy and uneventful pregnancy :)
Deb
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Birth Story
Okay. I got the story up and you can read it here.
I realize that I also forgot to ever mention that my sister is ALSO due with twins for December. She goes in Friday for an ultrasound and hopefully will know the sex of each.
Here's a pic of the girl and the boy in their Grandma's arms.
I realize that I also forgot to ever mention that my sister is ALSO due with twins for December. She goes in Friday for an ultrasound and hopefully will know the sex of each.
Here's a pic of the girl and the boy in their Grandma's arms.
Friday, July 06, 2007
Suprise - Our Twin Homebirth
I'll have to post a link to an actual birth story later, but since I haven't written one, yet, I can't do that.
But yesterday, at 3:31 pm, Our Daughter entered the world in a waterbirth at 5 lbs. 3 oz. and 19 1/2 inches long. At 4:00 pm she was followed by her surprise twin brother, Our Son at 6 lbs. 3 oz. and 20 inches long.
We (meaning Boom and I) had suspected twins from the beginning, and had even asked the midwives not once, but several times if twins were possible. But I never measured big (even at 36 1/2 weeks I only measured 38 weeks which is normal, especially for a third time mom) and they never detected two hearbeats (in fact, at the last appointment, we had trouble even finding ONE, though the movement was always in excess.)
So when they discovered AFTER delivering our baby girl that there was ANOTHER baby yet inside me, we weren't completely shocked, though at the time we were shocked enough because of course they had ruled out twins (we didn't get an ultrasound this pregnancy for various reasons, though we had wanted to around 20 weeks.)
It quickly became an emergency as his cord was in a prolapse position, and so they decided very quickly that I had to push my baby out NOW.
Thankfully God had his hand in this pregnancy from the beginning, as you'll see once I write the full story. But for now, we are very blessed with TWO HEALTHY newborns, and very busy and a little unbelieving.
But yesterday, at 3:31 pm, Our Daughter entered the world in a waterbirth at 5 lbs. 3 oz. and 19 1/2 inches long. At 4:00 pm she was followed by her surprise twin brother, Our Son at 6 lbs. 3 oz. and 20 inches long.
We (meaning Boom and I) had suspected twins from the beginning, and had even asked the midwives not once, but several times if twins were possible. But I never measured big (even at 36 1/2 weeks I only measured 38 weeks which is normal, especially for a third time mom) and they never detected two hearbeats (in fact, at the last appointment, we had trouble even finding ONE, though the movement was always in excess.)
So when they discovered AFTER delivering our baby girl that there was ANOTHER baby yet inside me, we weren't completely shocked, though at the time we were shocked enough because of course they had ruled out twins (we didn't get an ultrasound this pregnancy for various reasons, though we had wanted to around 20 weeks.)
It quickly became an emergency as his cord was in a prolapse position, and so they decided very quickly that I had to push my baby out NOW.
Thankfully God had his hand in this pregnancy from the beginning, as you'll see once I write the full story. But for now, we are very blessed with TWO HEALTHY newborns, and very busy and a little unbelieving.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Aches & Pains of Life
Well, I guess it had to happen sometime, and relatively speaking this is so minor compared to what could happen, and may happen in the future (live in the moment, plan for the future as my doula says...)
My 4 1/2 year old daughter tripped over a toy while running and broke her little arm. I don't have time to post the whole story, but needless to say this is the first "real" injury any of my kids have had. Boom and I took it harder than she did. She hardly cried, hasn't taken much medicine for any pain, and has been herself this whole time.
The hardest part is the whole "six weeks in a cast" thing. Especially with her being so small and the cast being so LARGE on her little frame. But these things happen, and my mother's heart knows she's okay, but having seen her little arm bent a little too much, and then knowing that her bones have been compromised, it just makes me wish I could keep all of my family safe forever. The wish of every mother, I know.
I am sleeping next to her on an air mattress to help her turn over and such, the first night to help keep her arm elevated. But it turns out the mattress is helping me in another way.
During each pregnancy, I have HORRIBLE hip pain. Not sciatic, but joint pain. My hips, mostly at night after laying sideways, when standing my hips literally go out on me and I have to support my weight by crawling along the side of the bed or sink, etc. After several steps it will finally start to support me, going out every few steps or so. And then as I start my day it will usually be okay until I go to bed again.
Well, this mattress seems to be helping me, as it hasn't been as bad these past couple of nights. Of course, the chiropractor has also been helping me, though more so in my ribs than my hips.
I wouldn't have thought about a rib out of place until someone on the internet mentioned it. I had been having aweful pain in my rib area, both from and back, and the midwives and I concluded it must be muscle pain from my expanding uterus and weight. But even with a belly support (which I wasted money on now) nothing helped. It was depressing me, making me irritated, and I didn't know how I'd make it the rest of this pregnancy, to be honest.
And then I tried the chiropractor. We have a wonderful woman who works local, doesn't take insurance but charges cheap and won't make you pay if you don't have the money, and she is all for homebirthing and such. So I went to her hoping for SOMETHING, and I can't believe the change. It doesn't stay for long (due to ever changing body from pregnancy) but the one day this past week I was in immense pain again, and immediately afterwards I felt so much better and have been since. I fear the weeks when I won't be able to go to her since I'll be "home" in Ohio and then in Indiana for a reunion. Maybe by then the number of adjustments I'll have had will help keep it in shape for that length of time...
Anyway, otherwise this pregnancy is okay, but due to all the pain we know it will be our last, and I'm at peace with that. I just can't do this again. Most people don't choose chronic pain, and in my case I'm such a wimp for CHOOSING pain, that I'd rather enjoy my family as it than expand it and be miserable for months on end, which makes me less of the person I want to be.
But I am walking 2 miles almost every day, which gets harder and harder as I am pushing my kids in the stroller, and they feel heavier and heavier each time. But at least I'm doing it, and I'm hoping that this along with the adjustments will make for an easier labor. One can hope, can't they?
One last thing before I go. Rugger is finally talking. He's using all the words he already knew but never spoke, and has even spoken in 3 word sentences, which puts him right on schedule. It's neat to finally hear what he's been thinking about all this time :)
My 4 1/2 year old daughter tripped over a toy while running and broke her little arm. I don't have time to post the whole story, but needless to say this is the first "real" injury any of my kids have had. Boom and I took it harder than she did. She hardly cried, hasn't taken much medicine for any pain, and has been herself this whole time.
The hardest part is the whole "six weeks in a cast" thing. Especially with her being so small and the cast being so LARGE on her little frame. But these things happen, and my mother's heart knows she's okay, but having seen her little arm bent a little too much, and then knowing that her bones have been compromised, it just makes me wish I could keep all of my family safe forever. The wish of every mother, I know.
I am sleeping next to her on an air mattress to help her turn over and such, the first night to help keep her arm elevated. But it turns out the mattress is helping me in another way.
During each pregnancy, I have HORRIBLE hip pain. Not sciatic, but joint pain. My hips, mostly at night after laying sideways, when standing my hips literally go out on me and I have to support my weight by crawling along the side of the bed or sink, etc. After several steps it will finally start to support me, going out every few steps or so. And then as I start my day it will usually be okay until I go to bed again.
Well, this mattress seems to be helping me, as it hasn't been as bad these past couple of nights. Of course, the chiropractor has also been helping me, though more so in my ribs than my hips.
I wouldn't have thought about a rib out of place until someone on the internet mentioned it. I had been having aweful pain in my rib area, both from and back, and the midwives and I concluded it must be muscle pain from my expanding uterus and weight. But even with a belly support (which I wasted money on now) nothing helped. It was depressing me, making me irritated, and I didn't know how I'd make it the rest of this pregnancy, to be honest.
And then I tried the chiropractor. We have a wonderful woman who works local, doesn't take insurance but charges cheap and won't make you pay if you don't have the money, and she is all for homebirthing and such. So I went to her hoping for SOMETHING, and I can't believe the change. It doesn't stay for long (due to ever changing body from pregnancy) but the one day this past week I was in immense pain again, and immediately afterwards I felt so much better and have been since. I fear the weeks when I won't be able to go to her since I'll be "home" in Ohio and then in Indiana for a reunion. Maybe by then the number of adjustments I'll have had will help keep it in shape for that length of time...
Anyway, otherwise this pregnancy is okay, but due to all the pain we know it will be our last, and I'm at peace with that. I just can't do this again. Most people don't choose chronic pain, and in my case I'm such a wimp for CHOOSING pain, that I'd rather enjoy my family as it than expand it and be miserable for months on end, which makes me less of the person I want to be.
But I am walking 2 miles almost every day, which gets harder and harder as I am pushing my kids in the stroller, and they feel heavier and heavier each time. But at least I'm doing it, and I'm hoping that this along with the adjustments will make for an easier labor. One can hope, can't they?
One last thing before I go. Rugger is finally talking. He's using all the words he already knew but never spoke, and has even spoken in 3 word sentences, which puts him right on schedule. It's neat to finally hear what he's been thinking about all this time :)
Sunday, April 15, 2007
A Mother's Tears
As I sat here tonight rocking you to sleep, I couldn't help but cry. Since my belly has been expanding and my back, hips, and now ribs have been hurting, I have not had you fall asleep in my arms in quite a few weeks.
And I miss it.
I tried to remember you nursing, and though it's only been a couple of months (when exactly was it last??? - I think around mid February, though I'll never know for sure now...) I already have trouble remembering how it was.
You seem so much older now. You are growing so quickly. I know you will only grow more, and faster, and I so wish I could draw out this window of your still chubby cheeks, your wobbling gait as you run, and your 2 year old smile.
I know you won't fit on my lap forever, but I wish you could. I know I won't always be able to sniff your hair and enjoy the smell of little boy sweat and innocence. But I wish I could.
Oh, I look forward to seeing who you become. But I'll miss your small hands as they become rough and outgrow my own. I'll miss your frustration as you learn to put your coat on without getting confused by which way to turn it and zippers that don't go. I'll miss your sweet "Ni Ni Ma Ma" as you lay in your bed.
Which tonight Daddy decided to put by him as we transition you for the baby. And there is no crib on my side yet, and I didn't know he had done it until I carried you up already asleep, so you won't know until morning comes.
And I cried some more because I miss you. I miss being next to you.
When your sister climbs into bed in the morning after Daddy leaves, on the rare occasion that she is awake and does so, I can't help but to cherish those moments as well. And when Daddy had back pain and was sleeping on the couch, and I had you on one side and your sister on the other...I admit that I loved it. I enjoyed sleeping next to both of you.
If I could get a bed big enough, you would both be in bed beside Daddy and me. And I know that he'd enjoy it too, as he has fallen asleep with you in my place on the nights I stay up late. We both love being with you two.
And as I feel this new one kick inside me. I wonder who it is. I wonder if I will love it as much as I have loved you. I feel sometimes that our lives will crumble. That they are good now. You two play well together. You get along great. I like the way we are now.
And soon it will change. Soon I will be busy with another who demands all my time and attention. And I know it won't always be easy on either of you.
But I hope. I hope that I will fall just as much in love as I did with you. I hope that I will cherish holding this baby in my arms as well, and look forward to lazy mornings when you are all in bed with me, or even more rare in bed with both Daddy and me on a Saturday or Sunday when you all wake up before us.
I know that you must grow older. I know that life requires change. But sometimes I find it aches me so. I find that I cannot contain the love that I have for you and it spills over in tears as I hold on a little tighter than I need to. As I sit in the chair a little longer than I need to. As I kiss your cheeks and your hair one more time because someday I won't get to.
And I cry. Being a mother is hard. Not just when you challenge me as an infant and I feel burnt out. Not just when you dry me crazy asking 1,000 questions a day, most of them repeats. Not just when you demand so much and give so little.
But it's hard when you are so precious just being you. When I can't help but smile at your childish ways. When I see that time is moving and the moment is gone. That's when it's REALLY hard.
I hope someday that my love for you is realized. I hope I can nurture our relationship and that you always will feel close to your father and I. I hope that I'll never have to look at you and wish you were different because I don't understand you. I hope that you'll know that I love you so much that you will never truly understand until you love another just as much.
That as I rub your small arms and hold your small body, that I can't possibly love you any more. That it hurts because I know you aren't fully mine. God claimed you long before I did, and you are in His hands.
Which means I can't control how long I have the pleasure of knowing you, of holding you, of keeping you. I hope and pray for a long life for both of us, but only God knows what tomorrow holds. And it hurts. Because I want to keep you for myself. I want to hold on to you forever, and make sure that nothing can harm you.
But I can't.
So I cry. And I love. And I hold you while I can.
And eventually I put you down, and I kiss you again. And I whisper Good Night. And tomorrow you will play and laugh and run like you always do, never knowing how much my love for you fills me to the point of tears.
I love you Sweet Ones. Mommy loves you.
And I miss it.
I tried to remember you nursing, and though it's only been a couple of months (when exactly was it last??? - I think around mid February, though I'll never know for sure now...) I already have trouble remembering how it was.
You seem so much older now. You are growing so quickly. I know you will only grow more, and faster, and I so wish I could draw out this window of your still chubby cheeks, your wobbling gait as you run, and your 2 year old smile.
I know you won't fit on my lap forever, but I wish you could. I know I won't always be able to sniff your hair and enjoy the smell of little boy sweat and innocence. But I wish I could.
Oh, I look forward to seeing who you become. But I'll miss your small hands as they become rough and outgrow my own. I'll miss your frustration as you learn to put your coat on without getting confused by which way to turn it and zippers that don't go. I'll miss your sweet "Ni Ni Ma Ma" as you lay in your bed.
Which tonight Daddy decided to put by him as we transition you for the baby. And there is no crib on my side yet, and I didn't know he had done it until I carried you up already asleep, so you won't know until morning comes.
And I cried some more because I miss you. I miss being next to you.
When your sister climbs into bed in the morning after Daddy leaves, on the rare occasion that she is awake and does so, I can't help but to cherish those moments as well. And when Daddy had back pain and was sleeping on the couch, and I had you on one side and your sister on the other...I admit that I loved it. I enjoyed sleeping next to both of you.
If I could get a bed big enough, you would both be in bed beside Daddy and me. And I know that he'd enjoy it too, as he has fallen asleep with you in my place on the nights I stay up late. We both love being with you two.
And as I feel this new one kick inside me. I wonder who it is. I wonder if I will love it as much as I have loved you. I feel sometimes that our lives will crumble. That they are good now. You two play well together. You get along great. I like the way we are now.
And soon it will change. Soon I will be busy with another who demands all my time and attention. And I know it won't always be easy on either of you.
But I hope. I hope that I will fall just as much in love as I did with you. I hope that I will cherish holding this baby in my arms as well, and look forward to lazy mornings when you are all in bed with me, or even more rare in bed with both Daddy and me on a Saturday or Sunday when you all wake up before us.
I know that you must grow older. I know that life requires change. But sometimes I find it aches me so. I find that I cannot contain the love that I have for you and it spills over in tears as I hold on a little tighter than I need to. As I sit in the chair a little longer than I need to. As I kiss your cheeks and your hair one more time because someday I won't get to.
And I cry. Being a mother is hard. Not just when you challenge me as an infant and I feel burnt out. Not just when you dry me crazy asking 1,000 questions a day, most of them repeats. Not just when you demand so much and give so little.
But it's hard when you are so precious just being you. When I can't help but smile at your childish ways. When I see that time is moving and the moment is gone. That's when it's REALLY hard.
I hope someday that my love for you is realized. I hope I can nurture our relationship and that you always will feel close to your father and I. I hope that I'll never have to look at you and wish you were different because I don't understand you. I hope that you'll know that I love you so much that you will never truly understand until you love another just as much.
That as I rub your small arms and hold your small body, that I can't possibly love you any more. That it hurts because I know you aren't fully mine. God claimed you long before I did, and you are in His hands.
Which means I can't control how long I have the pleasure of knowing you, of holding you, of keeping you. I hope and pray for a long life for both of us, but only God knows what tomorrow holds. And it hurts. Because I want to keep you for myself. I want to hold on to you forever, and make sure that nothing can harm you.
But I can't.
So I cry. And I love. And I hold you while I can.
And eventually I put you down, and I kiss you again. And I whisper Good Night. And tomorrow you will play and laugh and run like you always do, never knowing how much my love for you fills me to the point of tears.
I love you Sweet Ones. Mommy loves you.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Food, Glorious Food!
Well, now that I'm feeling better (13 weeks and I felt GREAT! I cleaned the house, vacuumed for the first time in two months, didn't sit around all day, YEAH!!!) I'm starting to cook. For real.
Not those meal-in-a-box things, but real, made from scratch dinners.
The catch is that I have to find something where I at least have most of the ingredients on hand. Which isn't easy. Many recipes have tons of ingredients that I don't have, can't afford, or have never heard of.
But I have found a few. And some of the things I've tried are simply the first time I've tried something I've heard of before but just never tried on my own.
Last week I made lemon pepper talapia (I spent the money on the fish before our finance situation came to light, though I should have known when I kept hoarding money from the savings...), some green-bean creamed soup, and blueberry crisp (the blueberries were form Walmart and had been in the freezer for months.)
So I ate a lot of it. So much so that for some reason my pregnant body didn't enjoy it the next day, and after forcing myself to eat yogurt with home-made granola (recipe from Tightwadd Gazette) I ended up throwing up for the first time in 3 pregnancies for the simple reason of being pregnant. The rest of the day I felt fine or else like I had pre-13 weeks. (I'm now 14 1/2 weeks.)
But that didn't deter me. Last night I made stuffed pork chops. With cornbread stuffing (bought from Aldi months ago knowing I'd using for SOMETHING) and bacon (from in-laws pigs, along with pork chops), onions, and on the chops marjoram (first time using it...on the spice rack from our wedding 8 years ago), seasoned salt, and pepper.
A little too dry due to not knowing how much over our oven would cook it, and I had already subtracted 5 minutes from the 45 minutes, so next time I'll subtract 10 or 15, but they were DELICIOUS!!!
I made cookies last week for the first time in months as well. Tomorrow I'm thinking Banana bread, which I've never made, ironically, since I love the stuff and have made tons of Zucchini bread which is so similar in a way.
But now with all this cooking I have to find a way to get creative with pork. Not ham, since for some reason we never get ham from the butcher when we get the pork from my in-laws. Probably because it's too expensive, but I'm not sure. I love ham.
Anyway, we have chops, and ham slices (it's not like ham, though, hard to explain), big chunks that I'm not sure what to do with (I'd have to go down and see the label on the paper to know what they are), bacon, sausage, and probably more.
In the summer, I made shish-kabobs, which I LOVED! But now I'm trying to figure out what to make indoors without much hassle and extra ingredients. But this way, we save money by using what we HAVE vs. buying what we don't really NEED. If we can use up all the pork in the freezer, then we are doing good. I already had to throw some out last year from having been in there WAY too long (years, people.) So we really SHOULD use it...it was free, for goodness sake, as a gift, really. It's just I didn't know what to do with all the pork.
And now I have one more option - stuffed pork chops. And it didn't take long to prepare, really. Even less time had I thawed the pork chops ahead of time. I'd have time to make a side dish, maybe out of the many, many bags of frozen veggies in our freezer, gotten from Angel Food or from me trying to buy healthy once. I don't like veggies very much, so I'm not motivated to cook them. Much like the unknown pork products. Ham I could make into casseroles and use potatoes and such. Pork...what do I do with that?
Same with veggies. Cheese, butter, throw them in a casserole. Otherwise I'm lost. So I'll have to look up veggie ideas in my books, too. Though now that I'm thinking about it, we haven't had pot pie in a very long while. I'll see which pork product I think will go best with that and put it on the menu for next week. After all, I DO know how to make white sauce...
Not those meal-in-a-box things, but real, made from scratch dinners.
The catch is that I have to find something where I at least have most of the ingredients on hand. Which isn't easy. Many recipes have tons of ingredients that I don't have, can't afford, or have never heard of.
But I have found a few. And some of the things I've tried are simply the first time I've tried something I've heard of before but just never tried on my own.
Last week I made lemon pepper talapia (I spent the money on the fish before our finance situation came to light, though I should have known when I kept hoarding money from the savings...), some green-bean creamed soup, and blueberry crisp (the blueberries were form Walmart and had been in the freezer for months.)
So I ate a lot of it. So much so that for some reason my pregnant body didn't enjoy it the next day, and after forcing myself to eat yogurt with home-made granola (recipe from Tightwadd Gazette) I ended up throwing up for the first time in 3 pregnancies for the simple reason of being pregnant. The rest of the day I felt fine or else like I had pre-13 weeks. (I'm now 14 1/2 weeks.)
But that didn't deter me. Last night I made stuffed pork chops. With cornbread stuffing (bought from Aldi months ago knowing I'd using for SOMETHING) and bacon (from in-laws pigs, along with pork chops), onions, and on the chops marjoram (first time using it...on the spice rack from our wedding 8 years ago), seasoned salt, and pepper.
A little too dry due to not knowing how much over our oven would cook it, and I had already subtracted 5 minutes from the 45 minutes, so next time I'll subtract 10 or 15, but they were DELICIOUS!!!
I made cookies last week for the first time in months as well. Tomorrow I'm thinking Banana bread, which I've never made, ironically, since I love the stuff and have made tons of Zucchini bread which is so similar in a way.
But now with all this cooking I have to find a way to get creative with pork. Not ham, since for some reason we never get ham from the butcher when we get the pork from my in-laws. Probably because it's too expensive, but I'm not sure. I love ham.
Anyway, we have chops, and ham slices (it's not like ham, though, hard to explain), big chunks that I'm not sure what to do with (I'd have to go down and see the label on the paper to know what they are), bacon, sausage, and probably more.
In the summer, I made shish-kabobs, which I LOVED! But now I'm trying to figure out what to make indoors without much hassle and extra ingredients. But this way, we save money by using what we HAVE vs. buying what we don't really NEED. If we can use up all the pork in the freezer, then we are doing good. I already had to throw some out last year from having been in there WAY too long (years, people.) So we really SHOULD use it...it was free, for goodness sake, as a gift, really. It's just I didn't know what to do with all the pork.
And now I have one more option - stuffed pork chops. And it didn't take long to prepare, really. Even less time had I thawed the pork chops ahead of time. I'd have time to make a side dish, maybe out of the many, many bags of frozen veggies in our freezer, gotten from Angel Food or from me trying to buy healthy once. I don't like veggies very much, so I'm not motivated to cook them. Much like the unknown pork products. Ham I could make into casseroles and use potatoes and such. Pork...what do I do with that?
Same with veggies. Cheese, butter, throw them in a casserole. Otherwise I'm lost. So I'll have to look up veggie ideas in my books, too. Though now that I'm thinking about it, we haven't had pot pie in a very long while. I'll see which pork product I think will go best with that and put it on the menu for next week. After all, I DO know how to make white sauce...
Monday, January 15, 2007
Living the Tightwad Lifestyle
Well, we've been here before, but it still hurts a bit.
Today I called the cable company and canceled our cable. It's the only bill we can cancel. Funny how one need electricity and gas and all, but TV isn't a necessity. So it's gone. Which is probably good, and we can get it back later when we can afford it, but it still hurts.
And I still don't know how we're going to make all the rest of the payments this month. I've already dried out the savings account, and if I take any more out they start charging us, so that won't work (let alone if any emergency happens at this point, we're in dire trouble.)
And of course we have to start shopping smarter. I've been shopping every week or two instead of monthly, and I tend to buy items a second time (chicken, beef, chocolate) that we don't NEED. We shop almost exclusively at Aldi's for food, and yet it's the Walmart bill that's out of hand. Each receipt looks innocent enough except the total, so we just have to start adding stuff up before we get to the checkout.
Basically, we have only 230 dollars to spend on groceries and paper/hygene products each month, and that's not counting things like birthday gifts for relatives and other little things that come up.
I know we can do it, as our kids don't eat a lot, yet. But being pregnant I'd LOVE more variety. (On food stamps we couldn't even spend the $400 a month they gave us...had too much food and didn't know what else to get. Looking back, I'd have gotten specialty breads and cheeses and stuff...things I've never even tried yet for lack of funds.)
Anyway, considering families spend $200 a WEEK on groceries, $230 a MONTH seems very little. But it's all that's left after paying the bills....bills that have to be payed are aren't even optional or entertainment related.
We don't eat out (the most expensive place we've eaten is Applesbees, but only with a gift card.) We don't watch movies (no dollar theater around here) but once a year.
We don't even vacation, though not for lack of want.
But the one income, and that being a teacher's, is definately pulling us down right now. My two days at afterschool bring in hardly anything, and Boom wouldn't even have time for a second job with football and schoolwork, besides that I want him here with us.
So we have to cut back. A lot. For now. I have to tell the midwife that we can't make any payments until after our tax return comes in. I have to ask the doctor if I can wait another month to pay the bill.
And yet, I have a hard time complaining. I don't have a hard time crying, because I wish that we weren't here right now. I wish our income was enough to live comfortably. I mean, it's not like I'm asking to go to Jamaica, but I had wanted to buy Honeycomb for the first time in 5 years....
But complaining, I'm not. Because we have our house. A large house, for us. We have two beautiful children. We have a job, a good one. A Boom is good at his job. We have friends. We have a community. I'm the happiest I've been in years, and I really CAN'T complain. I just wish it was different. I wish the numbers came to a different total.
But they don't. And so I'll keep looking at those pottery magazines and thinking of "someday" when I'll be able to get them (why can't our libraries carry them??) I'll remember that others would give anything to even have half of what I have. And someday, we'll hopefully move again, maybe back to more open land with free gas and sewage ($50 a month now that it's finally come), and eventually each year Boom gets a small raise that will help.
So we'll get back on our feet. We will. This year was financially heavy. We redid the attic to make it a room. We got a van because of the dog (and now with a third on the way we need it, anyway.) We got a dog, full breed. We got another truck (20 years old, that is.) And we need yet new windows for upstairs, a new door for the one that doesn't work, new gutters on the whole house (which would help all the water that's pouring into the basement.) Our shed is a joke. And so we aren't even close to being done with spending large amounts of money that we don't have.
But for now we're stable. For now we are warm (Boom is cutting down trees to feed the wood-burning stove downstairs we got from his parents. It heat well but requires much food.) And we are happy.
But I will look forward to the day when the checkbook actually balances withouth having to wait for the next paycheck to clear. And may that day be soon.
Today I called the cable company and canceled our cable. It's the only bill we can cancel. Funny how one need electricity and gas and all, but TV isn't a necessity. So it's gone. Which is probably good, and we can get it back later when we can afford it, but it still hurts.
And I still don't know how we're going to make all the rest of the payments this month. I've already dried out the savings account, and if I take any more out they start charging us, so that won't work (let alone if any emergency happens at this point, we're in dire trouble.)
And of course we have to start shopping smarter. I've been shopping every week or two instead of monthly, and I tend to buy items a second time (chicken, beef, chocolate) that we don't NEED. We shop almost exclusively at Aldi's for food, and yet it's the Walmart bill that's out of hand. Each receipt looks innocent enough except the total, so we just have to start adding stuff up before we get to the checkout.
Basically, we have only 230 dollars to spend on groceries and paper/hygene products each month, and that's not counting things like birthday gifts for relatives and other little things that come up.
I know we can do it, as our kids don't eat a lot, yet. But being pregnant I'd LOVE more variety. (On food stamps we couldn't even spend the $400 a month they gave us...had too much food and didn't know what else to get. Looking back, I'd have gotten specialty breads and cheeses and stuff...things I've never even tried yet for lack of funds.)
Anyway, considering families spend $200 a WEEK on groceries, $230 a MONTH seems very little. But it's all that's left after paying the bills....bills that have to be payed are aren't even optional or entertainment related.
We don't eat out (the most expensive place we've eaten is Applesbees, but only with a gift card.) We don't watch movies (no dollar theater around here) but once a year.
We don't even vacation, though not for lack of want.
But the one income, and that being a teacher's, is definately pulling us down right now. My two days at afterschool bring in hardly anything, and Boom wouldn't even have time for a second job with football and schoolwork, besides that I want him here with us.
So we have to cut back. A lot. For now. I have to tell the midwife that we can't make any payments until after our tax return comes in. I have to ask the doctor if I can wait another month to pay the bill.
And yet, I have a hard time complaining. I don't have a hard time crying, because I wish that we weren't here right now. I wish our income was enough to live comfortably. I mean, it's not like I'm asking to go to Jamaica, but I had wanted to buy Honeycomb for the first time in 5 years....
But complaining, I'm not. Because we have our house. A large house, for us. We have two beautiful children. We have a job, a good one. A Boom is good at his job. We have friends. We have a community. I'm the happiest I've been in years, and I really CAN'T complain. I just wish it was different. I wish the numbers came to a different total.
But they don't. And so I'll keep looking at those pottery magazines and thinking of "someday" when I'll be able to get them (why can't our libraries carry them??) I'll remember that others would give anything to even have half of what I have. And someday, we'll hopefully move again, maybe back to more open land with free gas and sewage ($50 a month now that it's finally come), and eventually each year Boom gets a small raise that will help.
So we'll get back on our feet. We will. This year was financially heavy. We redid the attic to make it a room. We got a van because of the dog (and now with a third on the way we need it, anyway.) We got a dog, full breed. We got another truck (20 years old, that is.) And we need yet new windows for upstairs, a new door for the one that doesn't work, new gutters on the whole house (which would help all the water that's pouring into the basement.) Our shed is a joke. And so we aren't even close to being done with spending large amounts of money that we don't have.
But for now we're stable. For now we are warm (Boom is cutting down trees to feed the wood-burning stove downstairs we got from his parents. It heat well but requires much food.) And we are happy.
But I will look forward to the day when the checkbook actually balances withouth having to wait for the next paycheck to clear. And may that day be soon.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
All Fired Up for the New Year
Well, if it wasn't for the fact that I talk too much and thus write too much, and that I'm extremely tired and lazy lately, then I already would have updated this thing. Oh, well. Here's a summary:
I fired my kiln up for the first time! Yippee!!! I was so excited that night, and everything turned out great. I made a whistle for my nephew and my ocarina is the best attempt so far. Now I have to think of what to make next...
Christmas was great except for a few glitches in my in-law part of the family. I won't go into it, but I sometimes wished my kids were as blessed as I was growing up in an almost "perfect" family. But then again, maybe they'll learn compassion for those not like them, and learn how to connect to them since they'll have seen it first hand, where as I have not.
I hope I won't have to renig this in a week from now, but I am also pregnant. We weren't planning on getting pregnant this soon. We were going to TRY in about six months. But alas, I'm 12 weeks right now and the midwife will be coming next Tuesday to hear the heartbeat. I found out the same week my sister found out she lost her baby, so I'm very cautious this time, and disappointed that once again some of the joy is robbed if this pregnancy DOES go well. I hate being the source of someone else's pain, and I'd like for once to enjoy my pregnancy without hiding my joy...
So for 6 weeks now I've been sick. Nauseaus all day long and all night long. I hate morning sickness. It usually lets up around 14 weeks, which means 2 more weeks to go. I love the middle stage of pregnancy, before my hips start dislocating and causing me imense pain....plus I can finally eat with joy again. Oh to have gone through the holidays and not enjoy all the wonderful meals! I hate this!!!!
So, here we are, me laying on the couch most of the day trying to will my stomach to get better, and Boom put in his parents old wood burning stove downstairs which is working like a beaut and heating the whole house even though the vents haven't even been connected to it yet. And the basement is now the warmest place in the house. We need to get a shield for it to keep the heat in the usit more, but they can't find them for now.
Other than that, not much else to report. Too many toys at Christmas as usual (why, Grandparents, WHY!?!?) and unfortunately it was also evident that now that the children are getting older, Pumpkin in particular, apparently at least one side of the family doesn't know my children very well at all. My MIL in particular projects things into my daughter that she always wanted in a daughter of her own. She used to talk about her red hair and blue eyes (even though Pumpkin has neither) and now she gives her all these girlie toys that she has absolutely no interest in. Poor thing kind of sat there as her brother got electronic gadgets like a Thomas the Tank Engine set, a keyboard, a remote control truck and another motorized truck. So I bought her a dart gun, which she loves.
Sometimes I wish Christmas could be so simple as just getting together as family. But then again, seeing as we don't do much as a family over there, I guess it's better we fill the time with unwrapping presents. I just hope next year they are more tuned in. Not that I'm not grateful, in fact, I think one present a kid would have been fine. But at least get them something they'll like. And same goes with the adults. I don't know how much debt she goes into every year (creditors actually call OUR house to get ahold of her) but I do know she could save money by not buying presents that often are not used. She loves giving gifts, and that's wonderful, but sometimes that needs to be balanced with budget and the recipients actual needs in mind.
Which is one reason I'm glad for the kiln this year. I hope to make many gifts from the heart that cost only the firing and the materials that I buy for the clay. I'll enjoy that very much.
One last story. My son is such a goofball, always singing and dancing to music and laughing and running around and being a clown. I can't wait until he talks... But my daughter, she has some very unique traits, and one is that she has an imaginary girlfriend. For about a year at least now she's had a girlfriend, named the same as herself, of course. This girlfriend lives on a farm (or several based on the "my girlfriend lives there" comments as we drive) and she can fly, swim, jump really high, and do many things Pumpkin just can't do yet.
Well, we had my brother-in-law and his girlfriend and their family over for New Year's Eve, and Pumpkin was chasing around the boy who is her age. She was just bawling when she came into the kitchen and I asked her what was wrong. "Hayden won't hug my girlfriend" she cries. Stifling a laugh, I tell her that maybe he can't SEE her girlfriend. "Where is she?" I ask. "Well," she says, "She WAS behind the Christmas tree..." I laugh then and say, "Well, can Hayden give YOU a hug?"
"No, my girlfriend wants a hug."
"Well then where is she?"
Pumpkin steps behind the table and says, "Can you see her? She's right there?" and points to herself. So I sit beside Hayden and whisper to him to go hug Pumpkin, and he does, and she is happy once again. And then me and Hayden's mom just kept laughing.
So there you go. My daughter is, well, imaginative :)
I fired my kiln up for the first time! Yippee!!! I was so excited that night, and everything turned out great. I made a whistle for my nephew and my ocarina is the best attempt so far. Now I have to think of what to make next...
Christmas was great except for a few glitches in my in-law part of the family. I won't go into it, but I sometimes wished my kids were as blessed as I was growing up in an almost "perfect" family. But then again, maybe they'll learn compassion for those not like them, and learn how to connect to them since they'll have seen it first hand, where as I have not.
I hope I won't have to renig this in a week from now, but I am also pregnant. We weren't planning on getting pregnant this soon. We were going to TRY in about six months. But alas, I'm 12 weeks right now and the midwife will be coming next Tuesday to hear the heartbeat. I found out the same week my sister found out she lost her baby, so I'm very cautious this time, and disappointed that once again some of the joy is robbed if this pregnancy DOES go well. I hate being the source of someone else's pain, and I'd like for once to enjoy my pregnancy without hiding my joy...
So for 6 weeks now I've been sick. Nauseaus all day long and all night long. I hate morning sickness. It usually lets up around 14 weeks, which means 2 more weeks to go. I love the middle stage of pregnancy, before my hips start dislocating and causing me imense pain....plus I can finally eat with joy again. Oh to have gone through the holidays and not enjoy all the wonderful meals! I hate this!!!!
So, here we are, me laying on the couch most of the day trying to will my stomach to get better, and Boom put in his parents old wood burning stove downstairs which is working like a beaut and heating the whole house even though the vents haven't even been connected to it yet. And the basement is now the warmest place in the house. We need to get a shield for it to keep the heat in the usit more, but they can't find them for now.
Other than that, not much else to report. Too many toys at Christmas as usual (why, Grandparents, WHY!?!?) and unfortunately it was also evident that now that the children are getting older, Pumpkin in particular, apparently at least one side of the family doesn't know my children very well at all. My MIL in particular projects things into my daughter that she always wanted in a daughter of her own. She used to talk about her red hair and blue eyes (even though Pumpkin has neither) and now she gives her all these girlie toys that she has absolutely no interest in. Poor thing kind of sat there as her brother got electronic gadgets like a Thomas the Tank Engine set, a keyboard, a remote control truck and another motorized truck. So I bought her a dart gun, which she loves.
Sometimes I wish Christmas could be so simple as just getting together as family. But then again, seeing as we don't do much as a family over there, I guess it's better we fill the time with unwrapping presents. I just hope next year they are more tuned in. Not that I'm not grateful, in fact, I think one present a kid would have been fine. But at least get them something they'll like. And same goes with the adults. I don't know how much debt she goes into every year (creditors actually call OUR house to get ahold of her) but I do know she could save money by not buying presents that often are not used. She loves giving gifts, and that's wonderful, but sometimes that needs to be balanced with budget and the recipients actual needs in mind.
Which is one reason I'm glad for the kiln this year. I hope to make many gifts from the heart that cost only the firing and the materials that I buy for the clay. I'll enjoy that very much.
One last story. My son is such a goofball, always singing and dancing to music and laughing and running around and being a clown. I can't wait until he talks... But my daughter, she has some very unique traits, and one is that she has an imaginary girlfriend. For about a year at least now she's had a girlfriend, named the same as herself, of course. This girlfriend lives on a farm (or several based on the "my girlfriend lives there" comments as we drive) and she can fly, swim, jump really high, and do many things Pumpkin just can't do yet.
Well, we had my brother-in-law and his girlfriend and their family over for New Year's Eve, and Pumpkin was chasing around the boy who is her age. She was just bawling when she came into the kitchen and I asked her what was wrong. "Hayden won't hug my girlfriend" she cries. Stifling a laugh, I tell her that maybe he can't SEE her girlfriend. "Where is she?" I ask. "Well," she says, "She WAS behind the Christmas tree..." I laugh then and say, "Well, can Hayden give YOU a hug?"
"No, my girlfriend wants a hug."
"Well then where is she?"
Pumpkin steps behind the table and says, "Can you see her? She's right there?" and points to herself. So I sit beside Hayden and whisper to him to go hug Pumpkin, and he does, and she is happy once again. And then me and Hayden's mom just kept laughing.
So there you go. My daughter is, well, imaginative :)
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
More Heartbreak and Heartache
Well, my sister found out yesterday that their baby will not be born on this earth. Apparently it stopped developing around 9 weeks. She was 13 weeks on Saturday, and none of us expected this after seeing a heartbeat at 7 weeks.
Prayers for her and her family are appreciated.
Prayers for her and her family are appreciated.
Saturday, October 28, 2006
A Month to Feel Stupid
Maybe I will reveal one of the most major gliches in my personality by writing this, but if you know me at all you already know my biggest fault, and I hope you still like me despite of it...
I'm an information junky, and knowledge freak, and I like to know it all. And if I'm wrong, I want to be SURE I'm wrong. So with that in mind, here is my devasting Friday story, and maybe more.
Two weeks ago I had a bad cold. Chills, body aches, nausea, and a bad headache. And a sore throat. By day 4 I thought, "Gee, if this aweful sore throat would just go away, I'd feel better..." Then it dawned on me that maybe I have strep throat, and so I looked in the mirror with a flashlight, and sure enough there were white patches on my tonsils. (I thought strep was the only thing that showed up like that.) Later I would read that my symptoms matched strep perfectly (headache, nausea, bodyaches and chills....)
I had been contemplating bringing Rugger in to the doctor anyway since he had discharge coming out of his eyes, and I was worried that he had a sinus infection. So now my decision was made; we'd go in.
The doctor looked at my throat and Rugger's ears, and wrote us both up for Amoxicillin (no throat swab.) We took them, and added Pumpkin later since she got pink eye and was stuck up in the sinuses, and we all dutifully finished them.
Fast forward to Sunday when I was done with the antibiotics. Two days later I woke up with a headache and a slight sore throat. "Not again..." I thought. I looked in the mirror, and on my tonsils were the same patches, but only red. We had a NORMAL doctor's appointment the next day, on Wednesday, and I'd ask the doctor about it then. Maybe the spots stay there long after you have strep?
So I ask him in the course of things, and he says, "Yeah, your throat looks real bad, but I think you're fine. You finished the antibiotics, don't worry about it."
So I didn't. Until Thursday night when my throat REALLY hurt and the patches were now WHITE again. And to top it off, Rugger threw up once in the middle of the night. (He had thrown up on Sunday evening, we thought it was a bug.)
Well, here's where my stupidity comes in, apparently. I knew from researching the strep the first time around, that in kids that are preschool age, the symptoms are quite different from adults. Often times they don't get the sore throat. Vomiting is a sign in little ones. And they might have what's called a Strawberry Tongue. From pictures, I thought Pumpkin had this the first time around, and now both kids looked like they had a faded version again. (Not bright red, but definately different than what their tongue looked like two days ago. Trust me. No one else will....)
So I call the office and request the earliest appointment since today (Saturday) we'll have a birthday party, and if we are on antibiotics, I want to make sure we put as much time in before people come to the house. So I get a 9:45 appointment, which I'm late for due to a last minute diaper change and my ability to always be late everywhere. At least I called and said we were running late.
So we get there, he examines us (the same doctor as on Wednesday, but different from the one that diagnosed the strep the first time.) I ask all my strep-related questions during the exam so I don't take up his time later. He says he's pretty sure it's just viral, but we'll wait for the swabs to come back (which I requested since I didn't want to be treating something that wasn't there, and he stated the same thing. I purposely liked this doctor because he won't prescribe antibiotics when not needed, though he confused me by saying is only ONE of us is positive, he'll treat the whole family, and he suggested Pumpkin get her vaccines NOW vs. any other time in the 4-6 year period....but anyway.)
So he says if it's positive, he'll be back to talk to us. If not, have a good day. (why we can't talk to him if it's negative, I don't understand....) So we wait, and sure enough it comes back NEGATIVE for all three of us.
I will be truthful. I was floored. I had added up all the symptoms, people at chruch who we run close circles with were also diagnosed with strep after I was, they all agreed this stuff cycles sometimes. The internet was full of recurring strep stories. I just hadn't expected to be relieved of the burden of antibiotics, which I was so dreading.
So I asked the nurse what we do, and if a throat culture would show anything different. (also keeping in mind that I've read that 5-10% of those tests are false negative.) He exact words were, "Well, he said that since the antibiotics are still in your system, it's going to be negative. Basically you're not contagious. You can go home."
To me, this sounded like "Even if you DO have the strep bacteria, the antibiotics will mask the results, but you can't pass it around, so don't worry." Which means to me that if we still have it, there would still need to be SOMETHING done to get rid of it. So I asked her if I could talk to the doctor again when he's done with his other patient.
So he comes in and says, "What do you want to hear?" I start to say something when he cuts me off and curtly says, "It's a virus. You don't have anything. Go home." I start to say, "But I just...." He cuts in with, "If you want another opinion, go to a different doctor." I say, "No, I DON'T want another opinion, I trust you, I just want to know..." "Listen, I'm getting frustrated, we're running out of time." "Well if you give me a chance I'll ask my question. The way the nurse stated it, made it sound like the anitbiotics are potentially masking..." "No. We would have seen it." "And the symptoms?" "They're nothing. I didn't want to be rude before, but they don't even have strawberry tongues, it's nothing." "And the white patches?" "Tons of stuff. Any virus." He opens the door. I ask "So what do you think it could be?" "Anything."
And he's gone. And I'm about two inches tall and hiding in the corner. I want to cry. I don't want to walk out of there with my happy kids who have no clue how humiliated I feel. I apologive to the receptionist so that when I show my face there again at least she knows I wasn't TRYING to be THAT KIND of patient.
I don't know what set him off. Maybe when I walked in and said, "I was right!" in a joking voice, because I HAD gotten sicker. Maybe it was me talking about strep the whole time instead of waiting for the positive result. I don't know.
But I think that even if I ticked him off (unintentionaly. I had NO clue where he came from being so angry) that he still reacted unprofessionaly. I mean, who's paying who, here? Why is it that I can't ask questions about a virus, that though I know it can't be treated doesn't mean I don't have questions.
Why is it that I can't make sure, ABSOLUTELY sure, that we don't have strep? Part of me was angry that there was never a first swab before I took the round of antibiotics, and I'll never now know if I had had it at all.
But mostly, I was embarassed, shocked, angry. So I was wrong. Don't I still have a right to make SURE I'm wrong? Aren't I still a person who lost sleep with worry, with a sore throat, with a child who threw up once out of nowhere? Don't I deserved at least a caring tone explaining WHY I am wrong vs. a "It's nothing I can help, go home" attitude?
When did doctors stop caring and stop trying to HELP? Why did he think I was attacking HIM? If I wanted meds, I'd have asked for them despite the outcome. I don't do that. I was caught off guard, so I wanted to make sure what I was hearing, that's all.
In fact, I was wrong earlier this week. I took Boomer to the vet for what I was sure was an ear infection (due to his stratching of the ears and shaking his head) and it was nothing. But the vet prescribed antibiotics anyway, and I paid for the unnecessary visit and unneeded meds. I took them home, put them on the counter, and thought, "For next time."
I don't want meds. I want answers. If you don't have answers, I understand. But at least be decent enough to explain it to me.
I'm afraid to talk to my friends, the ones I called frantically Friday morning to warn them we had strep again. I'm wondering what they'll think when they hear I'm an idiot who had no idea what I was talking about.
I hope they understand. I hope we're close enough of friends that they won't think less of me. I feel like I can't even tell eveyone for the shame that crawls to my face when I replay the scene in my mind. I felt SO BELITTLED.
And so, I hope that is all for this month. I don't like feeling stupid. I'm anal. I know that. I serve my kids cereal in certain colored bowls, with certain spoons. And if I have dirtied one and it's not available, it bothers me. I go on, but that's who I am. I like straight lines and facts. I like geometry and proofs. And when I'm wrong, I like to be sure.
And in nothing else, my faith in the medical community that was barely there before has now been completely shattered. I dream of the day when we as people can be informed about our bodies and the doctors respect us for it, and they admit their own limitations and treat us like friends or family. When the same scenario ended with this instead of the way it did:
"You know, you're right that a lot of these symptoms appear with strep. I wish they had taken a swab the first time because maybe you didn't have it then, either, we'll never know. But see how their tongues are? It would be darker and more swollen if it were Strawberry Tongue. And the patches on your throat are more common than people realize. It's called "tonsilitus" and it happens whenever they are inflamed and the sores show up. The rapid test is pretty accurate, but if you want, we'll get a culture, and that will also confirm that you have nothing else bacterial in nature. Otherwise, I think you probably have a couple different viruses going around, and if you think you have strep again, feel free to come in, but for now I'd say just drink plenty of fluids and rest. Hope your birthday party goes well!"
I'm an information junky, and knowledge freak, and I like to know it all. And if I'm wrong, I want to be SURE I'm wrong. So with that in mind, here is my devasting Friday story, and maybe more.
Two weeks ago I had a bad cold. Chills, body aches, nausea, and a bad headache. And a sore throat. By day 4 I thought, "Gee, if this aweful sore throat would just go away, I'd feel better..." Then it dawned on me that maybe I have strep throat, and so I looked in the mirror with a flashlight, and sure enough there were white patches on my tonsils. (I thought strep was the only thing that showed up like that.) Later I would read that my symptoms matched strep perfectly (headache, nausea, bodyaches and chills....)
I had been contemplating bringing Rugger in to the doctor anyway since he had discharge coming out of his eyes, and I was worried that he had a sinus infection. So now my decision was made; we'd go in.
The doctor looked at my throat and Rugger's ears, and wrote us both up for Amoxicillin (no throat swab.) We took them, and added Pumpkin later since she got pink eye and was stuck up in the sinuses, and we all dutifully finished them.
Fast forward to Sunday when I was done with the antibiotics. Two days later I woke up with a headache and a slight sore throat. "Not again..." I thought. I looked in the mirror, and on my tonsils were the same patches, but only red. We had a NORMAL doctor's appointment the next day, on Wednesday, and I'd ask the doctor about it then. Maybe the spots stay there long after you have strep?
So I ask him in the course of things, and he says, "Yeah, your throat looks real bad, but I think you're fine. You finished the antibiotics, don't worry about it."
So I didn't. Until Thursday night when my throat REALLY hurt and the patches were now WHITE again. And to top it off, Rugger threw up once in the middle of the night. (He had thrown up on Sunday evening, we thought it was a bug.)
Well, here's where my stupidity comes in, apparently. I knew from researching the strep the first time around, that in kids that are preschool age, the symptoms are quite different from adults. Often times they don't get the sore throat. Vomiting is a sign in little ones. And they might have what's called a Strawberry Tongue. From pictures, I thought Pumpkin had this the first time around, and now both kids looked like they had a faded version again. (Not bright red, but definately different than what their tongue looked like two days ago. Trust me. No one else will....)
So I call the office and request the earliest appointment since today (Saturday) we'll have a birthday party, and if we are on antibiotics, I want to make sure we put as much time in before people come to the house. So I get a 9:45 appointment, which I'm late for due to a last minute diaper change and my ability to always be late everywhere. At least I called and said we were running late.
So we get there, he examines us (the same doctor as on Wednesday, but different from the one that diagnosed the strep the first time.) I ask all my strep-related questions during the exam so I don't take up his time later. He says he's pretty sure it's just viral, but we'll wait for the swabs to come back (which I requested since I didn't want to be treating something that wasn't there, and he stated the same thing. I purposely liked this doctor because he won't prescribe antibiotics when not needed, though he confused me by saying is only ONE of us is positive, he'll treat the whole family, and he suggested Pumpkin get her vaccines NOW vs. any other time in the 4-6 year period....but anyway.)
So he says if it's positive, he'll be back to talk to us. If not, have a good day. (why we can't talk to him if it's negative, I don't understand....) So we wait, and sure enough it comes back NEGATIVE for all three of us.
I will be truthful. I was floored. I had added up all the symptoms, people at chruch who we run close circles with were also diagnosed with strep after I was, they all agreed this stuff cycles sometimes. The internet was full of recurring strep stories. I just hadn't expected to be relieved of the burden of antibiotics, which I was so dreading.
So I asked the nurse what we do, and if a throat culture would show anything different. (also keeping in mind that I've read that 5-10% of those tests are false negative.) He exact words were, "Well, he said that since the antibiotics are still in your system, it's going to be negative. Basically you're not contagious. You can go home."
To me, this sounded like "Even if you DO have the strep bacteria, the antibiotics will mask the results, but you can't pass it around, so don't worry." Which means to me that if we still have it, there would still need to be SOMETHING done to get rid of it. So I asked her if I could talk to the doctor again when he's done with his other patient.
So he comes in and says, "What do you want to hear?" I start to say something when he cuts me off and curtly says, "It's a virus. You don't have anything. Go home." I start to say, "But I just...." He cuts in with, "If you want another opinion, go to a different doctor." I say, "No, I DON'T want another opinion, I trust you, I just want to know..." "Listen, I'm getting frustrated, we're running out of time." "Well if you give me a chance I'll ask my question. The way the nurse stated it, made it sound like the anitbiotics are potentially masking..." "No. We would have seen it." "And the symptoms?" "They're nothing. I didn't want to be rude before, but they don't even have strawberry tongues, it's nothing." "And the white patches?" "Tons of stuff. Any virus." He opens the door. I ask "So what do you think it could be?" "Anything."
And he's gone. And I'm about two inches tall and hiding in the corner. I want to cry. I don't want to walk out of there with my happy kids who have no clue how humiliated I feel. I apologive to the receptionist so that when I show my face there again at least she knows I wasn't TRYING to be THAT KIND of patient.
I don't know what set him off. Maybe when I walked in and said, "I was right!" in a joking voice, because I HAD gotten sicker. Maybe it was me talking about strep the whole time instead of waiting for the positive result. I don't know.
But I think that even if I ticked him off (unintentionaly. I had NO clue where he came from being so angry) that he still reacted unprofessionaly. I mean, who's paying who, here? Why is it that I can't ask questions about a virus, that though I know it can't be treated doesn't mean I don't have questions.
Why is it that I can't make sure, ABSOLUTELY sure, that we don't have strep? Part of me was angry that there was never a first swab before I took the round of antibiotics, and I'll never now know if I had had it at all.
But mostly, I was embarassed, shocked, angry. So I was wrong. Don't I still have a right to make SURE I'm wrong? Aren't I still a person who lost sleep with worry, with a sore throat, with a child who threw up once out of nowhere? Don't I deserved at least a caring tone explaining WHY I am wrong vs. a "It's nothing I can help, go home" attitude?
When did doctors stop caring and stop trying to HELP? Why did he think I was attacking HIM? If I wanted meds, I'd have asked for them despite the outcome. I don't do that. I was caught off guard, so I wanted to make sure what I was hearing, that's all.
In fact, I was wrong earlier this week. I took Boomer to the vet for what I was sure was an ear infection (due to his stratching of the ears and shaking his head) and it was nothing. But the vet prescribed antibiotics anyway, and I paid for the unnecessary visit and unneeded meds. I took them home, put them on the counter, and thought, "For next time."
I don't want meds. I want answers. If you don't have answers, I understand. But at least be decent enough to explain it to me.
I'm afraid to talk to my friends, the ones I called frantically Friday morning to warn them we had strep again. I'm wondering what they'll think when they hear I'm an idiot who had no idea what I was talking about.
I hope they understand. I hope we're close enough of friends that they won't think less of me. I feel like I can't even tell eveyone for the shame that crawls to my face when I replay the scene in my mind. I felt SO BELITTLED.
And so, I hope that is all for this month. I don't like feeling stupid. I'm anal. I know that. I serve my kids cereal in certain colored bowls, with certain spoons. And if I have dirtied one and it's not available, it bothers me. I go on, but that's who I am. I like straight lines and facts. I like geometry and proofs. And when I'm wrong, I like to be sure.
And in nothing else, my faith in the medical community that was barely there before has now been completely shattered. I dream of the day when we as people can be informed about our bodies and the doctors respect us for it, and they admit their own limitations and treat us like friends or family. When the same scenario ended with this instead of the way it did:
"You know, you're right that a lot of these symptoms appear with strep. I wish they had taken a swab the first time because maybe you didn't have it then, either, we'll never know. But see how their tongues are? It would be darker and more swollen if it were Strawberry Tongue. And the patches on your throat are more common than people realize. It's called "tonsilitus" and it happens whenever they are inflamed and the sores show up. The rapid test is pretty accurate, but if you want, we'll get a culture, and that will also confirm that you have nothing else bacterial in nature. Otherwise, I think you probably have a couple different viruses going around, and if you think you have strep again, feel free to come in, but for now I'd say just drink plenty of fluids and rest. Hope your birthday party goes well!"
Saturday, October 21, 2006
I don't even know what to say...
Last night was the annual "Backyard Brawl," the football game between two close schools and a heated rivalry. But that's not even the point. There was so much more there last night that I don't even know where to begin. And I just wish everyone else knew it, too.
I thought about addressing the fans. Because I know many of you don't get it. You don't see what really goes on, you don't understand the finer details that oil the team. But maybe you'd understand something else.
You know how you yell at the players and scream at the coach? I wonder if you'd really like to get a chance to be him, as you so often claim you'd do a better job of being. Would you like your job performance to be public record, judged by your neighbors, strangers, teenagers, and the community at large? Would you like your weekly goals to be weighed in the morning newspaper, announced for all to see that you either met them, or sadly fell short (again.) How would you like to go on a walk in your town, or step into the library, convenience store, or church, knowing that people will either pat you on the back for a job well done, or else give you a look of pity, or worse, tell you what you should have done instead. Would you be able to handle the pressure of knowing that behind your back, while you are making last-minute decisions, there are hundreds of people who think they know better, and if your decision makes a great play, you are a genius, but if it doesn't, you're the idiot. If you truly think you can do all this, then by all means please come to us for a job. We need good coaches and volunteers, and we'd love to have someone as knowledgeable as you on board.
I'm also thinking about the seniors. Last night was senior night. But 5 of those seniors were either sidelined for good, or playing hurt. Tight End and Linebacker - broken jaw. Offensive and Defensive Lineman - torn ACL. Running Back and Linebacker - staph infection in his heart. Quarterback and Defensive Back - turn knee, which he's played on as best he can until the doctors have finally said no more. Running Back and Defensive Back - twisted ankle that brings him out of the game after every play, but he keeps going back in.
Five seniors. Two captains, enormous talent. Enough that this was to be their year. Our year. Eisenhower's year. Instead, three of them are wondering why they had to face a players worst nightmare: not realizing a certain game or play will be your last. They might play college ball, if they can recover. But I'm sure they look for the recruiters or scouts who should have been watching THEM. Two of them are still trying to play, knowing they could be hurt worse, but knowing for them it's worse not to try. They wanted it that bad, they really did. Instead, they all have to watch helplessly while their younger teammates fight for them.
And I have to go into those younger teammates, because I think this is where most people misunderstand. We have still won five games this year. Two of the games we lost were so close that one less mistake would have made the win. And for any team, that's not bad. But for a team that is now composed of mostly freshman and sophomores, I think that's a heck of a good job.
You see, you may have watched our boys get plowed last night. We made mistakes, we got pushed around. It might have looked like we were 15 yr. old boys playing 18 yr. old men. And we were. You can only gain experience by time. You can only gain the reflexes you need by making the mistakes so you know what to look for. And you can only push as hard as your immature not-quite-developed bodies allow you to. And we did.
Those boys AREN'T seniors. They aren't even juniors, many of them. But they fought hard, all of them. And even though so many hearts were broken this year, there is a team out there that is preparing for next year, and the year after. A team that has now faced more adversity than most face in several years. A team that is playing crippled and has not given up in the fourth quarter for the first time in several years. A team that is learning, play by play, what it means to be a champion.
And I know you wanted it to be THIS year. I know some of you will only see our final record, which will most likely be 5-5. And you will think we haven't improved. But then you must be blind. To be able to win 5 games, most against teams with a better record than ours, with 5 of our seniors either out completely or playing hurt, is a WHOLE lot better than winning 5 games with all your starters in full health.
And then I want to address the Job thing. Not job as in a career, but Job as in the guy in the Bible. Because I feel that's what Boom must feel like this year. Game after game we watched as player after player was hurt. And some not even on the field. And last night was no exception. In fact, it was every mother's nightmare, and player's, too, I'm sure. And to top it off, because of politics I won't go into, there was no ambulance at the game and those 3-5 minutes must have been pure agony for our Wide Receiver and Defensive Back who has made some important plays.
After making a play last night, his foot caught on the field, the field we were playing on because our own was deemed to dangerous with all the mud, and somehow (I'd have to ask if it was a tackle or what) his lower leg got snapped in two and was left dangling at a very wrong angle. Luckily I didn't see it since I don't do good with that kind of thing. But Boom was there holding his hand until they put him on the stretcher. The boy didn't make any sound at all, but squeezed his hand so hard Boom knew he in was in a lot of pain, to say the least. He'll be operated on this morning, and Boom said with that type of injury, he may not be back next year, his senior year. I hope for the players sake, and ours, that will not be the case. But either way, it seems unfair.
And all the while, and I have to ask, Why us? Why this many? Why this year, when things were looking so good?
And lastly, I want to address my husband, the coach. Many people don't understand football. They see it as a barbaric sport with brutal hitting and macho boys trying to prove themselves.
They would be wrong. It's so much more than that for most of them. For those who DO see it as just a game, they are the ones who don't try as hard, who don't put their heart on the line. But for most, football is where they learn who they are. Where they build confidence in themselves. Where they are accepted despite their weight or their looks. For some, it's the only place they feel like a family, or the only time they'll hear the words, "Good job. I'm proud of you."
To those who give me frowns when I explain that my husband couldn't watch the kids because of football, you have no idea what those boys mean to him, and how seriously he takes his job. You aren't there when he's spending hours breaking down film, grading plays, scouting other teams. You weren't there when he spent all night re-writing his playbook for a crippled team. You aren't there when the parents criticize, the fans boo, and reporters misprint quotes. And most importantly, you aren't there on the field when your leg is broken in the worst way, and your coach, your HEAD coach, cares enough to hold your hand and wait with you, cry for you, pray for you. You weren't there after the game when the coach broke down not because HE wanted the win, but because he knew how hard his boys fought, and he felt bad for them.
And last night. Last night his heart was broken. He came home and felt hopeless for the first time this season. This season of injuries and unfairness. He didn't cry. He didn't get mad. He was just defeated. And for the first time in the three years he's been head coach, I sit here crying for him. Because what can you say when the coach is down? Who's there to hold HIS hand? I wish I could do more than hug him. Wish I had words that actually fixed something instead of just soothed over the pain.
And I opened the paper this morning carefully, because I didn't want to read it this time. I wish I could avoid what I know is coming when we see people at church or out and about. Because try as they might, they won't understand. Not completely.
There are a few who understand. At least I hope so. Because it was their boy out there whose hand Boom held. It was their boy in the hospital whom he visited. It was their boy out there who he congratulated, or else comforted. I have heard them say good things about him. And I think, that even if they disagree with his calls sometimes, or if they think their kid should be out there instead of whoever is, I think that they still see his heart. Because that's what makes him a good coach.
It's not the plays, it's not getting to the playoff, it's not winning games. It's caring for the kids, genuinely caring. THAT'S what makes the difference between a good coach and most coaches. And I hope he knows that. I hope that as his heart heals, because eventually it must, he realizes that it doesn't matter what the others think. Those who have come close enough to him to see who he is, they will know. And the others, well, let them talk.
But I know. I know who you are, Boom. I know that you care. And to top it off, I think you ARE a good coach when it comes to playmaking. And you've learned, too. I have never been prouder of you than I have been this year. And though I would have loved to travel to the playoffs with you, I'm just as proud to have you hold you team together long enough to finish the season so no one else gets hurt. I don't know why you were dealt this card, but I admire the way you took it.
And I hope that counts for something.
I thought about addressing the fans. Because I know many of you don't get it. You don't see what really goes on, you don't understand the finer details that oil the team. But maybe you'd understand something else.
You know how you yell at the players and scream at the coach? I wonder if you'd really like to get a chance to be him, as you so often claim you'd do a better job of being. Would you like your job performance to be public record, judged by your neighbors, strangers, teenagers, and the community at large? Would you like your weekly goals to be weighed in the morning newspaper, announced for all to see that you either met them, or sadly fell short (again.) How would you like to go on a walk in your town, or step into the library, convenience store, or church, knowing that people will either pat you on the back for a job well done, or else give you a look of pity, or worse, tell you what you should have done instead. Would you be able to handle the pressure of knowing that behind your back, while you are making last-minute decisions, there are hundreds of people who think they know better, and if your decision makes a great play, you are a genius, but if it doesn't, you're the idiot. If you truly think you can do all this, then by all means please come to us for a job. We need good coaches and volunteers, and we'd love to have someone as knowledgeable as you on board.
I'm also thinking about the seniors. Last night was senior night. But 5 of those seniors were either sidelined for good, or playing hurt. Tight End and Linebacker - broken jaw. Offensive and Defensive Lineman - torn ACL. Running Back and Linebacker - staph infection in his heart. Quarterback and Defensive Back - turn knee, which he's played on as best he can until the doctors have finally said no more. Running Back and Defensive Back - twisted ankle that brings him out of the game after every play, but he keeps going back in.
Five seniors. Two captains, enormous talent. Enough that this was to be their year. Our year. Eisenhower's year. Instead, three of them are wondering why they had to face a players worst nightmare: not realizing a certain game or play will be your last. They might play college ball, if they can recover. But I'm sure they look for the recruiters or scouts who should have been watching THEM. Two of them are still trying to play, knowing they could be hurt worse, but knowing for them it's worse not to try. They wanted it that bad, they really did. Instead, they all have to watch helplessly while their younger teammates fight for them.
And I have to go into those younger teammates, because I think this is where most people misunderstand. We have still won five games this year. Two of the games we lost were so close that one less mistake would have made the win. And for any team, that's not bad. But for a team that is now composed of mostly freshman and sophomores, I think that's a heck of a good job.
You see, you may have watched our boys get plowed last night. We made mistakes, we got pushed around. It might have looked like we were 15 yr. old boys playing 18 yr. old men. And we were. You can only gain experience by time. You can only gain the reflexes you need by making the mistakes so you know what to look for. And you can only push as hard as your immature not-quite-developed bodies allow you to. And we did.
Those boys AREN'T seniors. They aren't even juniors, many of them. But they fought hard, all of them. And even though so many hearts were broken this year, there is a team out there that is preparing for next year, and the year after. A team that has now faced more adversity than most face in several years. A team that is playing crippled and has not given up in the fourth quarter for the first time in several years. A team that is learning, play by play, what it means to be a champion.
And I know you wanted it to be THIS year. I know some of you will only see our final record, which will most likely be 5-5. And you will think we haven't improved. But then you must be blind. To be able to win 5 games, most against teams with a better record than ours, with 5 of our seniors either out completely or playing hurt, is a WHOLE lot better than winning 5 games with all your starters in full health.
And then I want to address the Job thing. Not job as in a career, but Job as in the guy in the Bible. Because I feel that's what Boom must feel like this year. Game after game we watched as player after player was hurt. And some not even on the field. And last night was no exception. In fact, it was every mother's nightmare, and player's, too, I'm sure. And to top it off, because of politics I won't go into, there was no ambulance at the game and those 3-5 minutes must have been pure agony for our Wide Receiver and Defensive Back who has made some important plays.
After making a play last night, his foot caught on the field, the field we were playing on because our own was deemed to dangerous with all the mud, and somehow (I'd have to ask if it was a tackle or what) his lower leg got snapped in two and was left dangling at a very wrong angle. Luckily I didn't see it since I don't do good with that kind of thing. But Boom was there holding his hand until they put him on the stretcher. The boy didn't make any sound at all, but squeezed his hand so hard Boom knew he in was in a lot of pain, to say the least. He'll be operated on this morning, and Boom said with that type of injury, he may not be back next year, his senior year. I hope for the players sake, and ours, that will not be the case. But either way, it seems unfair.
And all the while, and I have to ask, Why us? Why this many? Why this year, when things were looking so good?
And lastly, I want to address my husband, the coach. Many people don't understand football. They see it as a barbaric sport with brutal hitting and macho boys trying to prove themselves.
They would be wrong. It's so much more than that for most of them. For those who DO see it as just a game, they are the ones who don't try as hard, who don't put their heart on the line. But for most, football is where they learn who they are. Where they build confidence in themselves. Where they are accepted despite their weight or their looks. For some, it's the only place they feel like a family, or the only time they'll hear the words, "Good job. I'm proud of you."
To those who give me frowns when I explain that my husband couldn't watch the kids because of football, you have no idea what those boys mean to him, and how seriously he takes his job. You aren't there when he's spending hours breaking down film, grading plays, scouting other teams. You weren't there when he spent all night re-writing his playbook for a crippled team. You aren't there when the parents criticize, the fans boo, and reporters misprint quotes. And most importantly, you aren't there on the field when your leg is broken in the worst way, and your coach, your HEAD coach, cares enough to hold your hand and wait with you, cry for you, pray for you. You weren't there after the game when the coach broke down not because HE wanted the win, but because he knew how hard his boys fought, and he felt bad for them.
And last night. Last night his heart was broken. He came home and felt hopeless for the first time this season. This season of injuries and unfairness. He didn't cry. He didn't get mad. He was just defeated. And for the first time in the three years he's been head coach, I sit here crying for him. Because what can you say when the coach is down? Who's there to hold HIS hand? I wish I could do more than hug him. Wish I had words that actually fixed something instead of just soothed over the pain.
And I opened the paper this morning carefully, because I didn't want to read it this time. I wish I could avoid what I know is coming when we see people at church or out and about. Because try as they might, they won't understand. Not completely.
There are a few who understand. At least I hope so. Because it was their boy out there whose hand Boom held. It was their boy in the hospital whom he visited. It was their boy out there who he congratulated, or else comforted. I have heard them say good things about him. And I think, that even if they disagree with his calls sometimes, or if they think their kid should be out there instead of whoever is, I think that they still see his heart. Because that's what makes him a good coach.
It's not the plays, it's not getting to the playoff, it's not winning games. It's caring for the kids, genuinely caring. THAT'S what makes the difference between a good coach and most coaches. And I hope he knows that. I hope that as his heart heals, because eventually it must, he realizes that it doesn't matter what the others think. Those who have come close enough to him to see who he is, they will know. And the others, well, let them talk.
But I know. I know who you are, Boom. I know that you care. And to top it off, I think you ARE a good coach when it comes to playmaking. And you've learned, too. I have never been prouder of you than I have been this year. And though I would have loved to travel to the playoffs with you, I'm just as proud to have you hold you team together long enough to finish the season so no one else gets hurt. I don't know why you were dealt this card, but I admire the way you took it.
And I hope that counts for something.
********* Update on injured player **********
After talking with Boom and others today, it turns out the way the player broke his leg was because the cleats dug into the rather old and bad astro-turf, and when his body turned, his foot did not follow, which in turn cleanly snapped both his leg bones. Luckily it was a clean break, so no pins or anything were needed, but he WILL be in a cast for 4-6 months, and whether he’ll get to play next year or not is still in question. Also, it turns out the ambulance took around 15 minutes to get to the field, not a mere 3 or 5, which I estimated because I thought the time SEEMED long, but couldn’t possibly be that long, but it was. An excruciatingly long 15 minutes.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Bovine in the Backyard....and other stories
Okay, so I like literation. Sue me.
Well, I haven't written anything here for awhile, and the main reason is time and my distaste for modern technology unless I can have it all and update it constantly and fix it instantly.
Anyway, I also figured out that most of the time I have tried to write something I think others might want to read. But let's face it. No one reads my blog, well, maybe ONE person, but that's it. And the reason I REALLY started this blog was for myself and my kids. I save each post and copy it onto a document on my computer, because I always have the fear that one day the internet will mysteriously be shut down forever, and if it wasn't the size of a novel aready, I'd have each page printed out. Just in case I lose my files forever, or by the time my kids are old enough to care about the file, it isn't too old to read on whatever form of technology THEY will have someday.
So, I noticed that I never wrote about a certain incident that was rather funny to me, so I hope the kids will get a kick out of it as well.
When Boomer was still going out to pee in the middle of the night, I got up one night around 4AM and opened the door for him. But instead of walking out and doing his business, he just froze. I wondered what was wrong when I heard it myself: a metal clanging sound just off to the left of us. The only thing metal in the backyard was his pen, and I wondered if a large dog or something was near it. I heard the sound a few more times and then I heard a very LOUD clang RIGHT ON THE BACK PATIO. *I* froze this time. I wanted to close the door so very bad. I didn't know if it was a very large animal or someone with a vendetta (I always worry about students egging our house or something) after us, but I knew that whatever was out there could see ME, even though I could se IT.
I managed enough courage to grab Boomer's lead and pull him in, quickly shutting the door and locking it. Then I ran to the stairway not even letting Boomer loose. I yelled up to Boom, "BOOM! Something or someone is outside on our porch! He bolted down the stairs and into the kitchen, then asked me to get him a t-shirt. (He could have a gun in his hands, but unless he is fully clothed, he'll feel vulnerable.)
He turned on the porch light, which I would have been too scared to do, afraid I'd faint if it was bad enough of a sight, and then he laughed.
I came closer as he said, "It's a COW!" "A cow?" I said. And sure enough, there was a cow, not even 4 feet away from us on the patio outside.
But as the flourescent light warmed up, we noticed that she was not alone. There were four other cows there with her.
Boom tried to figure out if we should call the farmer whose cows they probably were, or just wait until morning a couple hours away when milking time was. But when we made Boomer go outside to pee (knowing he still had to) he was so scared he just barked and they all ran off to the playground, anyway. So we let them go and I'm assuming they made it home eventually.
What what strange was that I actually should have discovered the cows MUCH earlier, and that they had apparently been grazing in our yard all night. When I went to bed around midnight, I thought I heard a "moo" from out front of our house, on the street. Now, back at the trailer, "mooing" was no biggy as my father-in-law had cows that came up past our trailer and behind it. But here in Sugar Grove? On the STREET? There were no close farmers that I'd be able to hear one of THEIR cows, so I figured either I was hearing things, or maybe the Amish were walking a cow down the road for some strange reason, and at midnight.
But I let it go and fell asleep, and until the cows were out of sight did I remember the strange noise I had heard four hours earlier when I went to bed. Mooing, indeed.
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My sister is happily and suprisingly pregnant again, all on their own this time. She even got to see the heartbeat already since she was spotting, and for a week there they worried her because she wasn't far enough along to see anything, and then the numbers were good, but then not as good, but the heart beat was there, so she's feeling much more positive.
She's in for a very busy time with two under 17 months! Congratulations, though!
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I got a new leash for Boomer that I paid more for than most would have. I got a book from the library called, "Think Dog" by John Fisher, and he mentioned a leash he invented that made it basically impossible for the dog to pull ahead and yet did so very gently and without pain so the dog didn't choke or have to be shocked or hurt with a spiked collar. So I looked it up and his collar was made under a different name and it seems it's only made in Britian. I tried buying one from a Bristish site, but even though USA was an option for me to fill out, they don't ship here.
So I tried making my own with just his normal leash, wrapping it around his muzzle, and it worked like a charm except he was able to get it off every few minutes and it took me longer to get it on than it was worth.
So I searched again and finally found a US company that stocks a Britian made leash that's actually even different than the first one I was going to buy, but is the same style, just a different name. They are both very different from the one commonly sold in the US at pet stores, and from forum posts they say the one I bought is much better.
So I paid the $20 for the collar and the $8 for the shipping (perhaps since it was UPS?) and tried it the very day I got it.
I will forever love that leash!!!! It was worth every penny.
I have enjoyed the three walks we have gone on and even other dogs can't get him to jump ahead. Oh, he tries to, but without even moving me an inch, he turns right around and stops because he can't go where he wants. It's quite amazing, really. No choking sounds like he used to make when pulling away, no more tipped stroller because the only way I could hold onto him and push it was to wrap the leash around the stroller. No more straining to get the stroller straight as he pulls on it. No more worrying when another dog passes by and he literally pulls me across the ground trying to hold on.
It's just a pleasant, peaceful, walk. Oh, he tried to rub it off occasionaly, but I figure that small discomfort it worth it for both of us, because, really, how fun can choking the whole time be for him?
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I dove back into my clay the other day, and got frustrated once again as I always do. I won't go into the details (except to say that the one day everything went bad and I burnt a whole batch of granola and almost my fingers and supper was served PAST our bedtime, and it was one of those days I just wanted to be done with so I could start over again) but suffice to say I hate learning curves.
But today I made progress, and tiny as it was, I stopped right there so I could end on a high note, literally.
I made a very succesful, if un-ornamented, whistle, out of clay. The process looked so easy, but it's not, and yet the third time I tried today, doing it my way as well as the right way (as opposed to their way and the right way, hard to explain) it worked. And so I smiled, washed my hands, and offered to play Cand Land with my kids, which I did, happily.
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Of a season that was supposed to be SO promising, instead has arisen so many challenges that one could hardly say that Boom's job this year has been easy.
From week one they have had starter's getting injured and now they are down to just one healthy starter. Two are out for the year, and ironically, it has nothing to do with football. One was a stupid incident that hopefully taught all three boys a lessson. They had decided to trying drinking alcohol and ended up in a fight that broke the one boy's jaw.
The second one happened just this week. We're not sure if it originated with a football injured (getting knocked hard on his leg), but the senior is in the hospital with a staph infection (blood infection.) It's serious enough that his life currently hangs in the balance due to the fact that it's based in his heart, and that if he doesn't respond to the anti-biotics by this weekend, he'll be sent to another hospital because he'll go into cardiac arrenst and need immediate surgery.
So besides worrying about his health, we are now looking at re-writing the entire offensive and defensive strategy for the rest of the year, hoping those with less injuries will recover at some point between here and the end of the season.
But depsite it all, Boom has been more positive than I've ever seen him regarding coaching, and I'm so proud of him. I know he gets down, but he keeps going, and that's what I admire about him. Especially when you coaches like one of our rivals. He's new to the team this year, and Boom actually coached on the staff there before he got this job, while he was subbing in the district.
Anyway, he walked in an talked all big as coaches hand-picked around here are prone to do, but his dreams are quickly slipping away. Someone with inside information has passed on the problems with the program, and they are coming to fruit. Last week after they lost his quote in the paper mentioned that they had a long way to go to get good, and it wouldn't happen in a year (meaning basically that there's no hope anytime soon for this team to win, either here or the years to come, which according to locals - this team is the best talent to come along in a long time at that school, so it's probably not the talest, after all.) This week he apparently "wasn't available at press time for comment, and no stats for the game are available." Which to me says even more than his comment last week.
So I hope that we can limp on and continue playing our hardest. Afterall, even though it would be great for this group of guys to go all the way (though now most of them won't even be playing the rest of the year), there's always the fact that you are BUILDING a team of champions. And champions need to learn how to play without giving up, and that is one lesson our boys have learned well this year. And that in itself is progress.
I love you, Honey. You do great things with those boys. Thank you for working so hard.
Well, I haven't written anything here for awhile, and the main reason is time and my distaste for modern technology unless I can have it all and update it constantly and fix it instantly.
Anyway, I also figured out that most of the time I have tried to write something I think others might want to read. But let's face it. No one reads my blog, well, maybe ONE person, but that's it. And the reason I REALLY started this blog was for myself and my kids. I save each post and copy it onto a document on my computer, because I always have the fear that one day the internet will mysteriously be shut down forever, and if it wasn't the size of a novel aready, I'd have each page printed out. Just in case I lose my files forever, or by the time my kids are old enough to care about the file, it isn't too old to read on whatever form of technology THEY will have someday.
So, I noticed that I never wrote about a certain incident that was rather funny to me, so I hope the kids will get a kick out of it as well.
When Boomer was still going out to pee in the middle of the night, I got up one night around 4AM and opened the door for him. But instead of walking out and doing his business, he just froze. I wondered what was wrong when I heard it myself: a metal clanging sound just off to the left of us. The only thing metal in the backyard was his pen, and I wondered if a large dog or something was near it. I heard the sound a few more times and then I heard a very LOUD clang RIGHT ON THE BACK PATIO. *I* froze this time. I wanted to close the door so very bad. I didn't know if it was a very large animal or someone with a vendetta (I always worry about students egging our house or something) after us, but I knew that whatever was out there could see ME, even though I could se IT.
I managed enough courage to grab Boomer's lead and pull him in, quickly shutting the door and locking it. Then I ran to the stairway not even letting Boomer loose. I yelled up to Boom, "BOOM! Something or someone is outside on our porch! He bolted down the stairs and into the kitchen, then asked me to get him a t-shirt. (He could have a gun in his hands, but unless he is fully clothed, he'll feel vulnerable.)
He turned on the porch light, which I would have been too scared to do, afraid I'd faint if it was bad enough of a sight, and then he laughed.
I came closer as he said, "It's a COW!" "A cow?" I said. And sure enough, there was a cow, not even 4 feet away from us on the patio outside.
But as the flourescent light warmed up, we noticed that she was not alone. There were four other cows there with her.
Boom tried to figure out if we should call the farmer whose cows they probably were, or just wait until morning a couple hours away when milking time was. But when we made Boomer go outside to pee (knowing he still had to) he was so scared he just barked and they all ran off to the playground, anyway. So we let them go and I'm assuming they made it home eventually.
What what strange was that I actually should have discovered the cows MUCH earlier, and that they had apparently been grazing in our yard all night. When I went to bed around midnight, I thought I heard a "moo" from out front of our house, on the street. Now, back at the trailer, "mooing" was no biggy as my father-in-law had cows that came up past our trailer and behind it. But here in Sugar Grove? On the STREET? There were no close farmers that I'd be able to hear one of THEIR cows, so I figured either I was hearing things, or maybe the Amish were walking a cow down the road for some strange reason, and at midnight.
But I let it go and fell asleep, and until the cows were out of sight did I remember the strange noise I had heard four hours earlier when I went to bed. Mooing, indeed.
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My sister is happily and suprisingly pregnant again, all on their own this time. She even got to see the heartbeat already since she was spotting, and for a week there they worried her because she wasn't far enough along to see anything, and then the numbers were good, but then not as good, but the heart beat was there, so she's feeling much more positive.
She's in for a very busy time with two under 17 months! Congratulations, though!
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I got a new leash for Boomer that I paid more for than most would have. I got a book from the library called, "Think Dog" by John Fisher, and he mentioned a leash he invented that made it basically impossible for the dog to pull ahead and yet did so very gently and without pain so the dog didn't choke or have to be shocked or hurt with a spiked collar. So I looked it up and his collar was made under a different name and it seems it's only made in Britian. I tried buying one from a Bristish site, but even though USA was an option for me to fill out, they don't ship here.
So I tried making my own with just his normal leash, wrapping it around his muzzle, and it worked like a charm except he was able to get it off every few minutes and it took me longer to get it on than it was worth.
So I searched again and finally found a US company that stocks a Britian made leash that's actually even different than the first one I was going to buy, but is the same style, just a different name. They are both very different from the one commonly sold in the US at pet stores, and from forum posts they say the one I bought is much better.
So I paid the $20 for the collar and the $8 for the shipping (perhaps since it was UPS?) and tried it the very day I got it.
I will forever love that leash!!!! It was worth every penny.
I have enjoyed the three walks we have gone on and even other dogs can't get him to jump ahead. Oh, he tries to, but without even moving me an inch, he turns right around and stops because he can't go where he wants. It's quite amazing, really. No choking sounds like he used to make when pulling away, no more tipped stroller because the only way I could hold onto him and push it was to wrap the leash around the stroller. No more straining to get the stroller straight as he pulls on it. No more worrying when another dog passes by and he literally pulls me across the ground trying to hold on.
It's just a pleasant, peaceful, walk. Oh, he tried to rub it off occasionaly, but I figure that small discomfort it worth it for both of us, because, really, how fun can choking the whole time be for him?
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I dove back into my clay the other day, and got frustrated once again as I always do. I won't go into the details (except to say that the one day everything went bad and I burnt a whole batch of granola and almost my fingers and supper was served PAST our bedtime, and it was one of those days I just wanted to be done with so I could start over again) but suffice to say I hate learning curves.
But today I made progress, and tiny as it was, I stopped right there so I could end on a high note, literally.
I made a very succesful, if un-ornamented, whistle, out of clay. The process looked so easy, but it's not, and yet the third time I tried today, doing it my way as well as the right way (as opposed to their way and the right way, hard to explain) it worked. And so I smiled, washed my hands, and offered to play Cand Land with my kids, which I did, happily.
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Of a season that was supposed to be SO promising, instead has arisen so many challenges that one could hardly say that Boom's job this year has been easy.
From week one they have had starter's getting injured and now they are down to just one healthy starter. Two are out for the year, and ironically, it has nothing to do with football. One was a stupid incident that hopefully taught all three boys a lessson. They had decided to trying drinking alcohol and ended up in a fight that broke the one boy's jaw.
The second one happened just this week. We're not sure if it originated with a football injured (getting knocked hard on his leg), but the senior is in the hospital with a staph infection (blood infection.) It's serious enough that his life currently hangs in the balance due to the fact that it's based in his heart, and that if he doesn't respond to the anti-biotics by this weekend, he'll be sent to another hospital because he'll go into cardiac arrenst and need immediate surgery.
So besides worrying about his health, we are now looking at re-writing the entire offensive and defensive strategy for the rest of the year, hoping those with less injuries will recover at some point between here and the end of the season.
But depsite it all, Boom has been more positive than I've ever seen him regarding coaching, and I'm so proud of him. I know he gets down, but he keeps going, and that's what I admire about him. Especially when you coaches like one of our rivals. He's new to the team this year, and Boom actually coached on the staff there before he got this job, while he was subbing in the district.
Anyway, he walked in an talked all big as coaches hand-picked around here are prone to do, but his dreams are quickly slipping away. Someone with inside information has passed on the problems with the program, and they are coming to fruit. Last week after they lost his quote in the paper mentioned that they had a long way to go to get good, and it wouldn't happen in a year (meaning basically that there's no hope anytime soon for this team to win, either here or the years to come, which according to locals - this team is the best talent to come along in a long time at that school, so it's probably not the talest, after all.) This week he apparently "wasn't available at press time for comment, and no stats for the game are available." Which to me says even more than his comment last week.
So I hope that we can limp on and continue playing our hardest. Afterall, even though it would be great for this group of guys to go all the way (though now most of them won't even be playing the rest of the year), there's always the fact that you are BUILDING a team of champions. And champions need to learn how to play without giving up, and that is one lesson our boys have learned well this year. And that in itself is progress.
I love you, Honey. You do great things with those boys. Thank you for working so hard.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
I Almost Felt Famous
Well, for those who watch CNN or perhaps even the local news depending on where you live, you might have noticed that the small, rural area we live is was recently brought to the surface of the media when a man-hunt for "Bucky" Phillips ended on Friday night here around 8pm.
For a couple of weeks people have been locking their cars for the first time in decades, people have been looking out for suspicious happenings, and mostly people have been tired of "Bucky" sightings that may actually be OTHER perpetrators who got away with a crime since "Bucky" has been on the run.
For those not familiar with the story, "Bucky" has escaped from jail at least twice, this time with a can-opener through the ceiling. He then eluded police by stealing cars and running back and forth between the New York and Pennsylvania state borders. One day we'd here he was here in Lander or Sugar Grove, the next up in New York, then back in Warren, then up in New York, etc.
The chase became more serious and more dangerous after he shot and killed one state trouper and left one in critical condition in the hospital. He shot them ambush-style with a high-powered assault rifle, so anyone who says he didn't mean it is crazy, in my opinion.
Mostly he escaped police by hiding out with friends and family, many of whom will face charges, as well.
But mostly it was just weird for me since it was actually on CNN, and the day before he was captured he made it to the Top 10 Most Wanted list for the FBI.
And lastly, he ruined our week because all athletic events were cancelled due to the final hours of closing in on him, and a few people almost had to sleep in the local elementary school or fire hall and were not allowed to go home until after he was in custody.
I will miss some of the excitement just because I'm human and it's sometimes fun to say, "Hey, that was in MY town, you know" but mostly I'm just glad he's caught and won't do more damage, and I'm glad life can go on as normal. And I'm thankful that no one I know was hurt and yet at the same time feel guilty that I'm glad it's over, because for at least one wife and one year old child, their agony has only just begun. My heart goes out to them.
For a couple of weeks people have been locking their cars for the first time in decades, people have been looking out for suspicious happenings, and mostly people have been tired of "Bucky" sightings that may actually be OTHER perpetrators who got away with a crime since "Bucky" has been on the run.
For those not familiar with the story, "Bucky" has escaped from jail at least twice, this time with a can-opener through the ceiling. He then eluded police by stealing cars and running back and forth between the New York and Pennsylvania state borders. One day we'd here he was here in Lander or Sugar Grove, the next up in New York, then back in Warren, then up in New York, etc.
The chase became more serious and more dangerous after he shot and killed one state trouper and left one in critical condition in the hospital. He shot them ambush-style with a high-powered assault rifle, so anyone who says he didn't mean it is crazy, in my opinion.
Mostly he escaped police by hiding out with friends and family, many of whom will face charges, as well.
But mostly it was just weird for me since it was actually on CNN, and the day before he was captured he made it to the Top 10 Most Wanted list for the FBI.
And lastly, he ruined our week because all athletic events were cancelled due to the final hours of closing in on him, and a few people almost had to sleep in the local elementary school or fire hall and were not allowed to go home until after he was in custody.
I will miss some of the excitement just because I'm human and it's sometimes fun to say, "Hey, that was in MY town, you know" but mostly I'm just glad he's caught and won't do more damage, and I'm glad life can go on as normal. And I'm thankful that no one I know was hurt and yet at the same time feel guilty that I'm glad it's over, because for at least one wife and one year old child, their agony has only just begun. My heart goes out to them.
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Homeschooling as a Life Preserver
Amid all the doubts that I have about homeschooling (and when I say "doubts", I should clarify that I don't doubt that it's what I want or that I believe that it is best for my children, but I doubt because it's not the "normal" thing to do here and so many people still think a little less of it than makes me comfortable) I keep coming back to one thing that re-affirms my decision: the mothers of schooled children.
Ironically, without me even bringing up the subject of school, mother after mother will tell me that "everything changes when they go to school," or "just wait until they get to school, then they really grow up," or "we had to deal with a lot of negative things they were getting in school" and on and on and on.
And yet they still look at me funny when I say that "actually,.....I'm homeschooling for the first several years...." (Yes, I intend to let my children go to high school if they want since I did enjoy it, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there....)
Anyway, I also know a few parents in our town who's children were Boom's classmates and friends growing up. And when we see these parents in town and ask about their children, too many answer, "Well, they haven't been around lately....you know how kids are." To which in my head I reply, "No. I don't. I can't imagine not seeing my own parents often, and I sure hope my kids never stay away for long from us (barring being across the country or in another country, of course.)
And I couldn't help but conjure up a picture in my head as I thought of all these parents who obviously have lost some connection with their children. Maybe it's as simple as their child growing up too quickly, or some bad language acquired, but overall I see the same look in their faces that they must have felt or still feel somewhat out of control of circumstances. And even though I know each child must make their own choices in life, I believe as parents we have the ability to channel those choices and influence them as much as possible.
And in a world where it seems children are bobbing about in a sea of uncertainties and waves are pulling them away from their families, I see homeschooling as a life preserver that will keep my kids afloat and stable. Maybe there are kids out there who will be able to swim despite the storms of the sea - I was one (in the sense that I maintained a relatively good relationship to my parents.) But those will be few. Too many more will be pulled down by a strong current, or will drift with the latest trend.
I'm not trying to "protect my kids from the world" so that they are sheltered and don't know how to cope. On the contrary, I'm trying to teach them to swim, and until they are strong enough and mature enough to swim on their own, I will make sure I have that life saver available to keep them from going under....to keep them close to me so that as they drift away I simply tug the line in.
I don't think it's wrong to be the biggest influence in their lives instead of other children who are only as bright as their years allow them to be. I don't think it's wrong that we will be their main peers instead of insecure children who judge by shifting measures instead of the true person inside. I don't think it's wrong to give them a firm foundation to stand on before sending them off.
I think it's the best way to show them that we think they are worth the work and time it will take to ensure they have a true understanding of who they are in Christ and where their place in this world is.
Ironically, without me even bringing up the subject of school, mother after mother will tell me that "everything changes when they go to school," or "just wait until they get to school, then they really grow up," or "we had to deal with a lot of negative things they were getting in school" and on and on and on.
And yet they still look at me funny when I say that "actually,.....I'm homeschooling for the first several years...." (Yes, I intend to let my children go to high school if they want since I did enjoy it, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there....)
Anyway, I also know a few parents in our town who's children were Boom's classmates and friends growing up. And when we see these parents in town and ask about their children, too many answer, "Well, they haven't been around lately....you know how kids are." To which in my head I reply, "No. I don't. I can't imagine not seeing my own parents often, and I sure hope my kids never stay away for long from us (barring being across the country or in another country, of course.)
And I couldn't help but conjure up a picture in my head as I thought of all these parents who obviously have lost some connection with their children. Maybe it's as simple as their child growing up too quickly, or some bad language acquired, but overall I see the same look in their faces that they must have felt or still feel somewhat out of control of circumstances. And even though I know each child must make their own choices in life, I believe as parents we have the ability to channel those choices and influence them as much as possible.
And in a world where it seems children are bobbing about in a sea of uncertainties and waves are pulling them away from their families, I see homeschooling as a life preserver that will keep my kids afloat and stable. Maybe there are kids out there who will be able to swim despite the storms of the sea - I was one (in the sense that I maintained a relatively good relationship to my parents.) But those will be few. Too many more will be pulled down by a strong current, or will drift with the latest trend.
I'm not trying to "protect my kids from the world" so that they are sheltered and don't know how to cope. On the contrary, I'm trying to teach them to swim, and until they are strong enough and mature enough to swim on their own, I will make sure I have that life saver available to keep them from going under....to keep them close to me so that as they drift away I simply tug the line in.
I don't think it's wrong to be the biggest influence in their lives instead of other children who are only as bright as their years allow them to be. I don't think it's wrong that we will be their main peers instead of insecure children who judge by shifting measures instead of the true person inside. I don't think it's wrong to give them a firm foundation to stand on before sending them off.
I think it's the best way to show them that we think they are worth the work and time it will take to ensure they have a true understanding of who they are in Christ and where their place in this world is.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Emotional Dial
If only emotions could be controlled by a dial I would turn them down when I'm overwhelmed, turn them up when I'm apathetic, and tune them out when I can't take it anymore.
But there is no dial and so many different emotions have crashed upon my shore lately. I'll try to list them and be brief since to be otherwise would be insane...
- Broken-hearted as we attend VBS at our old church (me and the kids, Boom has football.) The one thing I felt really bad about was taking Pumpkin out of the place where she had bloomed and opened up. All her friends upon seeing her exclaimed, "Amber's here!!" and her teacher didn't realize we had left the church until tonight when I told him, and had been looking forward to Cubbies (Awana) in the fall, and said, "Oh, and she was my favorite..." It almost made me want to cry. Our new church isn't bad at all, but it's much smaller, so Pumpkin only has ONE child her age in her class, the same boy we see weekly with his family.
- Happy and Hopeful at our new church. I have made many new friends whom I see on a more regular basis with either football, the library and other community events, or a playdate. The playdate friend is the pastor's daughter and the youth pastor's wife. Their son is Pumpkin's age and their daughter is a few months younger than Rugger.
- Frustrated and Depressed about the clay situation. I want my kiln hooked up so I can move forward. I wonder if I'm really any good, and I wish I could practice more to find out. I wonder if I'll be good enough to make ANY type of profit from it, and when I'll find the time to make enough to sell if I can.
- Torn about my homeschooling decision. As a child I was always on the outside looking at the IN crowd. Not by choice, but by their default. I was the one they chose to pick on. So I became a people pleaser, wanting only ONE thing all my life - to be accepted and fit in. And though it defies odds, I keep choosing things in my adult life that put me outside of that "normal" circle (ie. homebirth, cloth diapers, co-sleeping, etc.) And so the one thing I have NEVER wanted for my children was for them to not be included, liked, wanted. And I realized as all of Pumpkins friends/relatives that are her age will be in pre-school next year, and she won't. And if you ask her, she'd love to go to school (it's on TV, in her books, and she has toys that depict "school.") And I realize that I, *I* am the one who is placing her on the outside looking in, I'm setting her apart, making her "odd." And it rips me apart.
- Encouraged by the movie "Spanglish" when Adam Sandlers says, "You have to root for 'odd' verses 'the same'" and then at the end when the author of the essay states, "one thing defines me: I am my mother's daughter." I of course cried and hoped that maybe my daughter will be okay, afterall.
- Worried that my happy life will someday be shattered. As I lay in bed the other night after Rugger had just nursed to sleep and Pumpkin was sleeping in the bed a few feet away, I wanted for a moment to freeze time; to stay right where we were and not move forward in time, where tragedy or sorrow or despair might hit us at any point in time. For here there was only peace, happiness, and contentment. And my heart clenched to think that it may not always be so.
But there is no dial and so many different emotions have crashed upon my shore lately. I'll try to list them and be brief since to be otherwise would be insane...
- Broken-hearted as we attend VBS at our old church (me and the kids, Boom has football.) The one thing I felt really bad about was taking Pumpkin out of the place where she had bloomed and opened up. All her friends upon seeing her exclaimed, "Amber's here!!" and her teacher didn't realize we had left the church until tonight when I told him, and had been looking forward to Cubbies (Awana) in the fall, and said, "Oh, and she was my favorite..." It almost made me want to cry. Our new church isn't bad at all, but it's much smaller, so Pumpkin only has ONE child her age in her class, the same boy we see weekly with his family.
- Happy and Hopeful at our new church. I have made many new friends whom I see on a more regular basis with either football, the library and other community events, or a playdate. The playdate friend is the pastor's daughter and the youth pastor's wife. Their son is Pumpkin's age and their daughter is a few months younger than Rugger.
- Frustrated and Depressed about the clay situation. I want my kiln hooked up so I can move forward. I wonder if I'm really any good, and I wish I could practice more to find out. I wonder if I'll be good enough to make ANY type of profit from it, and when I'll find the time to make enough to sell if I can.
- Torn about my homeschooling decision. As a child I was always on the outside looking at the IN crowd. Not by choice, but by their default. I was the one they chose to pick on. So I became a people pleaser, wanting only ONE thing all my life - to be accepted and fit in. And though it defies odds, I keep choosing things in my adult life that put me outside of that "normal" circle (ie. homebirth, cloth diapers, co-sleeping, etc.) And so the one thing I have NEVER wanted for my children was for them to not be included, liked, wanted. And I realized as all of Pumpkins friends/relatives that are her age will be in pre-school next year, and she won't. And if you ask her, she'd love to go to school (it's on TV, in her books, and she has toys that depict "school.") And I realize that I, *I* am the one who is placing her on the outside looking in, I'm setting her apart, making her "odd." And it rips me apart.
- Encouraged by the movie "Spanglish" when Adam Sandlers says, "You have to root for 'odd' verses 'the same'" and then at the end when the author of the essay states, "one thing defines me: I am my mother's daughter." I of course cried and hoped that maybe my daughter will be okay, afterall.
- Worried that my happy life will someday be shattered. As I lay in bed the other night after Rugger had just nursed to sleep and Pumpkin was sleeping in the bed a few feet away, I wanted for a moment to freeze time; to stay right where we were and not move forward in time, where tragedy or sorrow or despair might hit us at any point in time. For here there was only peace, happiness, and contentment. And my heart clenched to think that it may not always be so.
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