Officially, it's not cancer, and the stuff on the outside is mild displasia, but because of the initial reading of severe displasia, the doctor still wants to do the loop procedure to remove some of my cervix because that means that the severe stuff may be in the cervical canal, which is kind of scary to me because I'm wondering how far up it goes?
What to do, what to do.
I know, thank my mind for sharing!
I'm very relieved, but I will still be going in every three months for a pap smear, and I may have to have this procedure repeated over the next year a few times -- big fun. I'm getting the IUD out next Thursday. Mike and I will be condom shopping.
Heh.
The procedure will be done next Thursday, April 29th. I'm planning on snoozing through the afternoon afterwards and the doctor has ordered a tranquilizer just for the occasion.
On a side note, I've been just diagnosed by my regular doctor with hypothyroidism today.
In light of all this body stuff, I'm thinking that God is trying to get my attention, so I'm going to see how I feel on the thyroid medication, but I am probably going to take next 6-12 months off from grad school. Both my doctors are really worried about me and I trust them. And I'm worried, too.
Many of the folks in my kids group said that you thought if I took a year off, I'd never go back, but as an undergrad, I often took a quarter off, when I got tired and went back in when I was ready in a quarter or two. It's my education and I'm paying for it, so I guess I want to be in my best form mentally, physically, and spiritually. It would suck to do a half-hearted job, when I know what I am capable of. I also have a never quit thing within me. Bad.
Hey, it makes me the workaholic I am today. ;p
Speaking of which, I am tired and I'm stressed. Stress can make the cervical stuff worse. I'd like to see if after this procedure, I can have a clear year with no displasia. I'd like to give the thyroid meds time to work and see if I can get my weight down. With weight loss, a number of my health issues get better -- especially the diabetes and the asthma. I may also just take off next fall and go back in the spring, but I feel like I need to take some time to take care of my body and get myself well.
Tuesday, April 20, 2004
Monday, April 19, 2004
Well, the news is kind of good news/bad news...
They did use the Bethesda scale and I met the criterion for severe displasia (cuz I asked). What results they got back does mean possible cancer, though she does not think I am cancerous from what little she could see. She said that the transitional area is not "cancerous looking." However, the biopsy will tell.
Also, there's not much out around in the cervix which indicates severe displasia, but I have an IUD and it's very possible that it's all up in the canal, which is a cause for concern. She took biopsies and cultures from everywhere. We won't know for sure what's going on until the biopsy results come back (I'll hear Thursday AM), which will also tell us whether this is a high-risk viral strain or a low-risk viral strain for cancer.
Either way, it's more waiting, unfortunately.
The doctor is pretty sure she'll need to do the loop procedure and remove part of my cervix. Because of the procedure mechanics, she is going to have to remove the IUD. Because it's possible I may have to have this done a few more times, it will have to stay removed.
Mike and I have already set the appointment for the vasectomy consultation-- as I can't have more kids after this is done and Mike and I definitely do not want any more children, unless we adopt.
I even posed the question -- What if something happens and we divorce and you find the woman of your dreams and she wants kids? He said,"She can adopt. I *have* two kids. Otherwise, she can find someone else."
MY HERO!
Additionally,with my diabetes and other health concerns -- I can't handle hormones at all, nor take the physical risk that pregnancy poses and Mike doesn't want me to.
I told Mike he can't tell his family until afterwards because his mother will shit herself. She nearly had a cow when we had mentioned it before right after having Genny. She may hear about the cancer scare stuff, but we're not discussing fallout with her by any means.
I'm going to bed now because I'm cramping and uncomfortable, despite 800 mg of ibuprofen.
They did use the Bethesda scale and I met the criterion for severe displasia (cuz I asked). What results they got back does mean possible cancer, though she does not think I am cancerous from what little she could see. She said that the transitional area is not "cancerous looking." However, the biopsy will tell.
Also, there's not much out around in the cervix which indicates severe displasia, but I have an IUD and it's very possible that it's all up in the canal, which is a cause for concern. She took biopsies and cultures from everywhere. We won't know for sure what's going on until the biopsy results come back (I'll hear Thursday AM), which will also tell us whether this is a high-risk viral strain or a low-risk viral strain for cancer.
Either way, it's more waiting, unfortunately.
The doctor is pretty sure she'll need to do the loop procedure and remove part of my cervix. Because of the procedure mechanics, she is going to have to remove the IUD. Because it's possible I may have to have this done a few more times, it will have to stay removed.
Mike and I have already set the appointment for the vasectomy consultation-- as I can't have more kids after this is done and Mike and I definitely do not want any more children, unless we adopt.
I even posed the question -- What if something happens and we divorce and you find the woman of your dreams and she wants kids? He said,"She can adopt. I *have* two kids. Otherwise, she can find someone else."
MY HERO!
Additionally,with my diabetes and other health concerns -- I can't handle hormones at all, nor take the physical risk that pregnancy poses and Mike doesn't want me to.
I told Mike he can't tell his family until afterwards because his mother will shit herself. She nearly had a cow when we had mentioned it before right after having Genny. She may hear about the cancer scare stuff, but we're not discussing fallout with her by any means.
I'm going to bed now because I'm cramping and uncomfortable, despite 800 mg of ibuprofen.
Saturday, April 17, 2004
Well, we've had our ~ April 15th snow. It was just enough to stick and now it's raining and washing away the telltale signs -- white, sticky, cold -- you know. I'm going to have to wait a month for the circa May 15th snow, but admittedly this is comforting -- patterns that don't change much.
Thankfully, the peach tree has already set fruit, so it may yet yield fruit. There are the two *ahem* trees which have been flowering. They are called the *ahem* trees because we've never actually seen fruit on them, so we aren't sure what they are. The apple tree has only flowered a little, so I'm hoping we'll still get fruit.
If I only get stuff from the peach three, then I'll make a lot of peach jam and canned peaches and of course, PEPPERS!
I'm awfully glad it's raining. I hadn't gotten out to water everything and now I don't have to.
Honestly, I'd missed the snow on the foothills and now, it's back. Usually, I'm plain sick of winter, but winter ended mostly back in February, so I've had time to miss it.
Thankfully, the peach tree has already set fruit, so it may yet yield fruit. There are the two *ahem* trees which have been flowering. They are called the *ahem* trees because we've never actually seen fruit on them, so we aren't sure what they are. The apple tree has only flowered a little, so I'm hoping we'll still get fruit.
If I only get stuff from the peach three, then I'll make a lot of peach jam and canned peaches and of course, PEPPERS!
I'm awfully glad it's raining. I hadn't gotten out to water everything and now I don't have to.
Honestly, I'd missed the snow on the foothills and now, it's back. Usually, I'm plain sick of winter, but winter ended mostly back in February, so I've had time to miss it.
Friday, April 16, 2004
Everyone tells me that whatever this cervical dyplasia stuff comes to that I'll probably have a really uncomfortable office visit. However, most folks aren't talking about a lot of dysplasia, they're talking a little. I've heard the gamut from hysterectomy to partial cervical removal to uncomfortable biopsy resolved in one day.
My mother's vote is for a hysterectomy, so I don't have to endure menopause. Personally, I'm all for some level of permanent birth control at my age, however, I was thinking Mike could get it. Radical abdomenal surgery just doesn't rank up there on my list of things I'd ever wish for unless I had gotten pretty damned desperate. I am contemplating taking a year off from grad school, so I can drop weight and not have to have the gastric bypass, so a hysterectomy seems like a less than desirable option just to avoid hormones. Unlike my mother, I know a few herbs to use. Additionally, if I was more bitchy than usual at home, my family would likely not notice a distinct change or if they got annoyed with me, I'd get told.
Russell's actually really good about saying in a super tactful and nice way,"What the hell is up with you, Mom?" Mike is less tactful, but loving about the same thing. Genny just razes the house. It's her little way of saying,"And you thought you were evil?"
I'm getting an incomplete in one class. I may have to take one in the other class and blow off mini-term to get caught up.
Oddly enough, I thought I would be upset and I'm not. I'm relieved that I can just take the time and figure this out. The other thing I wondered about is if this problem might be contributing to my continuing lack of sexual interest, since I had Genny.
My biggest worry is probably insane to someone who has medical knowledge, but I was wondering if the cootie cells would travel up the IUD into my uterus. Then I got insanely nervous and realized I should just stop with that line of thought immediately, because basically, I can worry about this incessantly to little avail until Monday.
Well, hell, I'm wildly worrying anyhow, but it's nice to just try to fake myself out into some relative sanity. As my husband says,"You not worry? " Then he guffaws for a few minutes and then just starts looking at me and snickering helplessly.
Bastard.
My mother's vote is for a hysterectomy, so I don't have to endure menopause. Personally, I'm all for some level of permanent birth control at my age, however, I was thinking Mike could get it. Radical abdomenal surgery just doesn't rank up there on my list of things I'd ever wish for unless I had gotten pretty damned desperate. I am contemplating taking a year off from grad school, so I can drop weight and not have to have the gastric bypass, so a hysterectomy seems like a less than desirable option just to avoid hormones. Unlike my mother, I know a few herbs to use. Additionally, if I was more bitchy than usual at home, my family would likely not notice a distinct change or if they got annoyed with me, I'd get told.
Russell's actually really good about saying in a super tactful and nice way,"What the hell is up with you, Mom?" Mike is less tactful, but loving about the same thing. Genny just razes the house. It's her little way of saying,"And you thought you were evil?"
I'm getting an incomplete in one class. I may have to take one in the other class and blow off mini-term to get caught up.
Oddly enough, I thought I would be upset and I'm not. I'm relieved that I can just take the time and figure this out. The other thing I wondered about is if this problem might be contributing to my continuing lack of sexual interest, since I had Genny.
My biggest worry is probably insane to someone who has medical knowledge, but I was wondering if the cootie cells would travel up the IUD into my uterus. Then I got insanely nervous and realized I should just stop with that line of thought immediately, because basically, I can worry about this incessantly to little avail until Monday.
Well, hell, I'm wildly worrying anyhow, but it's nice to just try to fake myself out into some relative sanity. As my husband says,"You not worry? " Then he guffaws for a few minutes and then just starts looking at me and snickering helplessly.
Bastard.
Wednesday, April 14, 2004
Up until we moved nearly 3 years ago, I had dutifully gotten my annual pap smear. In all that time -- 17 years -- I have never had anything but normal pap smears.
This year, I finally remembered to schedule myself and go get seen. I got a letter in the mail, which is how they report results telling me that I have dysplasia -- abnormal cells on the cervix, usually chalked up to a few stray genital warts. Then I looked at the enclosed pamphlet and realized, that this was potentially dangerous, as they described in intricate detail the levels you go through before cancer.
I called frantically requesting my colposcopy. I finally got a doctor to explain to me that I have severe dysplasia -- a severe precancer condition. I started to cry.
I go in on Monday to get the colposcopy -- scared half to death and already behind on a lot of schoolwork.
This year, I finally remembered to schedule myself and go get seen. I got a letter in the mail, which is how they report results telling me that I have dysplasia -- abnormal cells on the cervix, usually chalked up to a few stray genital warts. Then I looked at the enclosed pamphlet and realized, that this was potentially dangerous, as they described in intricate detail the levels you go through before cancer.
I called frantically requesting my colposcopy. I finally got a doctor to explain to me that I have severe dysplasia -- a severe precancer condition. I started to cry.
I go in on Monday to get the colposcopy -- scared half to death and already behind on a lot of schoolwork.
Friday, April 02, 2004
My MIL informed us that she is sending Mike's brother out to visit -- the week before finals! I like the guy, but can't say I'm thrilled he's coming out so close to finals. As usual, we weren't asked. He's just arriving. Top that off with that Russell comes home the next day to say that his field trip is during the middle of Uncle's stay, and it got more special. Then I did something remarkably stupid -- I communicated directly with Mike's mother about it. I don't know what possessed me to do something that patently stupid, but I did it. Then, Mike's brother apparently sent her all the emails I sent him privately, the fuckhead.
Unfortunately, then she sent this martyred saint email ,"I thought you'd enjoy visiting with him too but if it is a hassel we can forfeit the ticket. " It is a hassle, but that's not what I said to you. :) There's a reason you didn't get that email. There's a reason I didn't discuss it with you. I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO PULL THE MARTYR CARD. Yeesh. I need a shower.
So then I had to write an explanatory email because I'm so fucking done with this crap.
Mike and I discussed this email and why I should or should not send it to you. Mike said you did not need to know all this stuff. I said that not telling you what was going on has been a source of frustration and anger to me over the years and is exactly why you do not always understand where I am coming from and why you make erroneous assumptions about my intentions.
What I would enjoy or not enjoy the week before finals is not the issue. I have finals and I will be studying and writing papers for them because I will not let the time that my family has sacrificed away from me for the past semester be for a "B." I am simply trying to make sure that my children and my husband, who will have time to spend with Mark, are able to. Certainly, he's not here to visit his sister-in-law, but rather his brother. My presence or the lack thereof, should not be a make or break point to his visit, and my husband and children are looking forward to having him visit. I am a grad student, therefore, I have no social life. My friends all miss me and bitch at me for not calling. Mark can bitch if he wants, but he'll have to take a number behind my husband, my children, my mother, my grandmother, LaDawn, Mel, Dan, Donna, Pauline, and others. June 5, I will be booking all available time to friends and family who would like to attend a bitchfest, wherein they may complain incessantly for as long as there is alcohol, about what a rotten so and so I am while I'm in school.
Unfortunately, your original message lacked specificity, and in order to schedule everyone, so we can make it work, we needed to clarify things, so that our family could plan accordingly. When Russell came home with the date of his field trip, a field trip that he really needs a parent to go with him on, I felt it was appropriate to inform you and M. and to let you know the limits of what we are able to do and what our time constraints are. Russell has waited all year for this trip, and while he said he'd ditch it to see his uncle, I think that would be unfortunate for him and unnecessary, so I was trying to get information about M.'s plans, so I could figure out what I could do to make it work out for everyone. Because I did not know M.'s schedule, I let you know about my night classes, which as it turns out, will not be a problem at all. In fact, picking him up at the airport will be no problem. For taking him to the airport at the buttcrack of dawn with a three year old in tow, I expect him to send me a physically fit personal masseuse (a gay eunuch - according to Mike will be acceptable) wearing nothing but a thong, a smile, and a bottle of warmed massage oil to arrive one hour after my last final ends. Or he may buy me an enormous caffe latte at starbucks.
Additionally, I am personally sensitive to communications from you, and, if you notice, I did not send that email to you. Unfortunately, K. did email it to you. Mike says that I should learn to ignore any inferences because that's what he does. I'm not as adept at it as he is, clearly. Perhaps I saw inferences where there were none, but I am also under an enormous amount of stress between now and the end of the semester with a paper or two due each week until Mid-May, so my interpretive skills may not be at their best because I am exhausted and stressed out. Unfortunately, I am the one most skilled at juggling schedules and keeping track of that stuff in our household, so while I should have had Mike handle the email, I was trying to be helpful to him because he's slammed at work. He's been made big engineer hunkybutt on a new project, so he's busy, too. Because he's the big engineer hunkybutt, he has to let them know if he won't be there with enough notice that they don't freak. They don't refer to him as hunkybutt, but I do, and it's my email, so big engineer hunkybutt it is.
If M. chooses to ditch the trip, that's his choice. Yes, M. is showing up at a difficult time for me personally. However, as far as I am concerned, you suggested a plan that will work for everyone and will serve to impact me little. If I have to work, I can simply drive up to the university office to work. I have no class the week of Russell's spring break, so I am hoping to get ahead a little bit then, so that I have time to spend. I'm caught up on my reading and assignments, so that extra week should serve me well, but it will also depend on the workload from the professors I work for, which I have no way to plan for.
As a friend's band says, "Show up or throw up, we don't care. We're going to party all night long."
The party is on whether he shows or not.
So she writes back that
The fact is it deeply hurts me not to have a better relationship with you and I think I how it must make Mike feel, caught in the middle. All I can say is I'm sorry and I will try harder.
Well, could you try harder by being real and not sending me all the crap email? Yuck.
Could you have tried harder a few years ago before all the shit hit the fan and splattered wildly all over our lives? With two kids there's enough of that to clean up, trust me.
Could you have tried harder to make my son feel welcome? Things like remembering his birthday would help.
And Mike doesn't feel in the middle. He feels protective of me. He feels protective of his kids. He feels protective of himself.
I just feel sick.
Unfortunately, then she sent this martyred saint email ,"I thought you'd enjoy visiting with him too but if it is a hassel we can forfeit the ticket. " It is a hassle, but that's not what I said to you. :) There's a reason you didn't get that email. There's a reason I didn't discuss it with you. I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO PULL THE MARTYR CARD. Yeesh. I need a shower.
So then I had to write an explanatory email because I'm so fucking done with this crap.
Mike and I discussed this email and why I should or should not send it to you. Mike said you did not need to know all this stuff. I said that not telling you what was going on has been a source of frustration and anger to me over the years and is exactly why you do not always understand where I am coming from and why you make erroneous assumptions about my intentions.
What I would enjoy or not enjoy the week before finals is not the issue. I have finals and I will be studying and writing papers for them because I will not let the time that my family has sacrificed away from me for the past semester be for a "B." I am simply trying to make sure that my children and my husband, who will have time to spend with Mark, are able to. Certainly, he's not here to visit his sister-in-law, but rather his brother. My presence or the lack thereof, should not be a make or break point to his visit, and my husband and children are looking forward to having him visit. I am a grad student, therefore, I have no social life. My friends all miss me and bitch at me for not calling. Mark can bitch if he wants, but he'll have to take a number behind my husband, my children, my mother, my grandmother, LaDawn, Mel, Dan, Donna, Pauline, and others. June 5, I will be booking all available time to friends and family who would like to attend a bitchfest, wherein they may complain incessantly for as long as there is alcohol, about what a rotten so and so I am while I'm in school.
Unfortunately, your original message lacked specificity, and in order to schedule everyone, so we can make it work, we needed to clarify things, so that our family could plan accordingly. When Russell came home with the date of his field trip, a field trip that he really needs a parent to go with him on, I felt it was appropriate to inform you and M. and to let you know the limits of what we are able to do and what our time constraints are. Russell has waited all year for this trip, and while he said he'd ditch it to see his uncle, I think that would be unfortunate for him and unnecessary, so I was trying to get information about M.'s plans, so I could figure out what I could do to make it work out for everyone. Because I did not know M.'s schedule, I let you know about my night classes, which as it turns out, will not be a problem at all. In fact, picking him up at the airport will be no problem. For taking him to the airport at the buttcrack of dawn with a three year old in tow, I expect him to send me a physically fit personal masseuse (a gay eunuch - according to Mike will be acceptable) wearing nothing but a thong, a smile, and a bottle of warmed massage oil to arrive one hour after my last final ends. Or he may buy me an enormous caffe latte at starbucks.
Additionally, I am personally sensitive to communications from you, and, if you notice, I did not send that email to you. Unfortunately, K. did email it to you. Mike says that I should learn to ignore any inferences because that's what he does. I'm not as adept at it as he is, clearly. Perhaps I saw inferences where there were none, but I am also under an enormous amount of stress between now and the end of the semester with a paper or two due each week until Mid-May, so my interpretive skills may not be at their best because I am exhausted and stressed out. Unfortunately, I am the one most skilled at juggling schedules and keeping track of that stuff in our household, so while I should have had Mike handle the email, I was trying to be helpful to him because he's slammed at work. He's been made big engineer hunkybutt on a new project, so he's busy, too. Because he's the big engineer hunkybutt, he has to let them know if he won't be there with enough notice that they don't freak. They don't refer to him as hunkybutt, but I do, and it's my email, so big engineer hunkybutt it is.
If M. chooses to ditch the trip, that's his choice. Yes, M. is showing up at a difficult time for me personally. However, as far as I am concerned, you suggested a plan that will work for everyone and will serve to impact me little. If I have to work, I can simply drive up to the university office to work. I have no class the week of Russell's spring break, so I am hoping to get ahead a little bit then, so that I have time to spend. I'm caught up on my reading and assignments, so that extra week should serve me well, but it will also depend on the workload from the professors I work for, which I have no way to plan for.
As a friend's band says, "Show up or throw up, we don't care. We're going to party all night long."
The party is on whether he shows or not.
So she writes back that
The fact is it deeply hurts me not to have a better relationship with you and I think I how it must make Mike feel, caught in the middle. All I can say is I'm sorry and I will try harder.
Well, could you try harder by being real and not sending me all the crap email? Yuck.
Could you have tried harder a few years ago before all the shit hit the fan and splattered wildly all over our lives? With two kids there's enough of that to clean up, trust me.
Could you have tried harder to make my son feel welcome? Things like remembering his birthday would help.
And Mike doesn't feel in the middle. He feels protective of me. He feels protective of his kids. He feels protective of himself.
I just feel sick.
Thursday, April 01, 2004
I've been buried in crap to do and that is not actually slowing down much, other than I will be working on more of it again, shortly.
I'm thinking about taking next year off to exercise. While I'm losing weight, I don't have time to exercise and that's what makes the difference for me -- exercise. I am just not clear I want to have gastric bypass surgery either. It would be such a difficult surgery, despite some of the obvious benefits later.
Right now, I 've got to go correct the papers that have been patiently waiting on me.
I'm thinking about taking next year off to exercise. While I'm losing weight, I don't have time to exercise and that's what makes the difference for me -- exercise. I am just not clear I want to have gastric bypass surgery either. It would be such a difficult surgery, despite some of the obvious benefits later.
Right now, I 've got to go correct the papers that have been patiently waiting on me.
Friday, March 26, 2004
Winter came back today and beat up spring. More snow on the mountains. Spring is supposed to make an amazing comeback and pants winter. In the meantime, my window is cold.
I'm really, really tired.
I've got 40 papers to correct, a CD to create, a form to create, a paper to write a draft of, and my allergies and asthma are kicking my ass.
On the plus side, today, I made headway on the CD, three loads of laundry, and dinner got cooked last night, so it's just reheatable tonight.
I was supposed to do an observation today, but LaDawn was sick, so I left her alone. I should have done it anyway, but I don't want her disease. Mike said he was queasy and I refused to smooch him. I have a root canal on Tuesday. I can't afford to be sick.
Amped and tired. I'm sooo weird.
I'm really, really tired.
I've got 40 papers to correct, a CD to create, a form to create, a paper to write a draft of, and my allergies and asthma are kicking my ass.
On the plus side, today, I made headway on the CD, three loads of laundry, and dinner got cooked last night, so it's just reheatable tonight.
I was supposed to do an observation today, but LaDawn was sick, so I left her alone. I should have done it anyway, but I don't want her disease. Mike said he was queasy and I refused to smooch him. I have a root canal on Tuesday. I can't afford to be sick.
Amped and tired. I'm sooo weird.
Wednesday, March 24, 2004
I fell apart tonight in my families' class. She was lecturing about how self-esteem for families of special needs kids is an issue and she read us quotes from a friend of hers she'd interviewed that said that it was particularly validating when a professional recognized what a good mom she was. It hit me how little validation of that nature I've had.
I think the double punch was the further commentary about how this parent never felt like their day was done -- how she'd stayed up half the night with her sick child and hadn't gotten to writing letters to politicians voting on issues critical to the services the government might provide her son and how she felt like it was her responsibility to know IDEA inside and out and to be the ultimate advocate for her child.
That did it.
I had to leave for a half hour and bawl my eyes out. I sat and talked with the department secretary who knows a lot of the stuff I've been going through and she gave me hankies and we just talked. Afterwards, I went downstairs and stopped at the afterschool program where my reading tutee from last semester was and said,"Hi!" I then had 4 little girls 8-9 years old perform the school song because we're in the NCAA sweet 16. They did it to show me what they'd done to get on the local news channel. Then they wrote me a note telling me how it was at 525 on Channel 2. I hugged R. and went back to class.
Through class, I held onto that note and just remembered all the good I can do.
Somewhere in class, the professor talked about that having a kid with a disability is NOT a grieving process. A grieving process means that it ends and raising a child with a disability does not end. It's an ongoing process. She drew a picture of a spring. She said parents will spiral upwards and something will be said or done and they'll go back to the bottom of that spring again.
I thought about waiting for the professor and apologizing, but I decided I'd end up in tears again and I had to drive home, so I wrote her this email.
Sorry for having to leave for a bit.
I hit the bottom of that spring again tonight from
listening to the Tracy quotes. I am struck by how
little affirmation I have ever gotten from
professionals and in fact, how much deriding,
insulting, and implied crap I have gotten from not
only the schools, but my in-laws, while I have been
working my fool head off trying to figure out how to
help my son be the math professor or engineer that he
dreams about being.
Before medication, my son would have thermo-nuclear
meltdowns in public. When he was 3, I could pick him
up, put him in the car and drive away from prying
eyes. When he was 9, I had to pick up my 65 lb child
from the middle of the road, where he had thrown
himself in a tantrum. I asked him to sit on the car
bumper and I was physically, just getting him off the
road and pulling him to the bumper. Because he was
angry, he chose to stiffen his body and he ended up
splayed on the hood instead, screaming blood murder
that I'd picked him up off the road. People were
walking by looking at me as though I must be beating
my child, when I was just trying to get him safe and
calm. I finally got him to sit on the bumper and
after a 15 minute time out, he finally came clean and
informed me that he had lied and NOT taken his
medication. I had to ground him for a week because
that's the punishment for lying in our family, so he
screamed and cried more. I told him, he needed to
stop or I could not drive him home to get his
medication, which he obviously needed. He snuffled
all the way home and the entire way, all I could think
about was what a rotten parent I was. I couldn't get
the vision of him splayed on the hood out of my head
and how absolutely awful I felt and how awful he must
feel to be so out of control. I know in my head I am
not a bad parent, but I *felt* like a bad parent. And
how those pedestrians walking by looked at us will
stay with me forever.
Also, I often feel completely ineffective in my
advocacy for my son. I know I am getting better and
learning more all the time, but this is my son. My
beautiful brown-eyed angel boy being called "lazy"
and "unmotivated" just makes me sad. That means that
the school isn't recognizing the good things in him
and is not recognizing his condition, and
particularly, they are not noticing how bonebreakingly
hard he is working all the time, nor how hard we are
working with him, so he can live his dreams.
While the diagnosis of cerebral palsy will help some
of that, I am not always ready to deal with the pity I
see in people when I tell them he has cerebral palsy
and ADHD, any more than I was prepared to deal with
the school's complete ignorance about his ADHD before
his cerebral palsy diagnosis.
I would have stayed to talk, but after examining my
fragility level I realized I'd end up in tears again
and it took me a while to get calm the first time, so
I decided I'd write.
The neurology appointment for our first opinion is on
Monday. My root canal is Tuesday. In some ways, I
think the root canal will be a lot easier.
I think the double punch was the further commentary about how this parent never felt like their day was done -- how she'd stayed up half the night with her sick child and hadn't gotten to writing letters to politicians voting on issues critical to the services the government might provide her son and how she felt like it was her responsibility to know IDEA inside and out and to be the ultimate advocate for her child.
That did it.
I had to leave for a half hour and bawl my eyes out. I sat and talked with the department secretary who knows a lot of the stuff I've been going through and she gave me hankies and we just talked. Afterwards, I went downstairs and stopped at the afterschool program where my reading tutee from last semester was and said,"Hi!" I then had 4 little girls 8-9 years old perform the school song because we're in the NCAA sweet 16. They did it to show me what they'd done to get on the local news channel. Then they wrote me a note telling me how it was at 525 on Channel 2. I hugged R. and went back to class.
Through class, I held onto that note and just remembered all the good I can do.
Somewhere in class, the professor talked about that having a kid with a disability is NOT a grieving process. A grieving process means that it ends and raising a child with a disability does not end. It's an ongoing process. She drew a picture of a spring. She said parents will spiral upwards and something will be said or done and they'll go back to the bottom of that spring again.
I thought about waiting for the professor and apologizing, but I decided I'd end up in tears again and I had to drive home, so I wrote her this email.
Sorry for having to leave for a bit.
I hit the bottom of that spring again tonight from
listening to the Tracy quotes. I am struck by how
little affirmation I have ever gotten from
professionals and in fact, how much deriding,
insulting, and implied crap I have gotten from not
only the schools, but my in-laws, while I have been
working my fool head off trying to figure out how to
help my son be the math professor or engineer that he
dreams about being.
Before medication, my son would have thermo-nuclear
meltdowns in public. When he was 3, I could pick him
up, put him in the car and drive away from prying
eyes. When he was 9, I had to pick up my 65 lb child
from the middle of the road, where he had thrown
himself in a tantrum. I asked him to sit on the car
bumper and I was physically, just getting him off the
road and pulling him to the bumper. Because he was
angry, he chose to stiffen his body and he ended up
splayed on the hood instead, screaming blood murder
that I'd picked him up off the road. People were
walking by looking at me as though I must be beating
my child, when I was just trying to get him safe and
calm. I finally got him to sit on the bumper and
after a 15 minute time out, he finally came clean and
informed me that he had lied and NOT taken his
medication. I had to ground him for a week because
that's the punishment for lying in our family, so he
screamed and cried more. I told him, he needed to
stop or I could not drive him home to get his
medication, which he obviously needed. He snuffled
all the way home and the entire way, all I could think
about was what a rotten parent I was. I couldn't get
the vision of him splayed on the hood out of my head
and how absolutely awful I felt and how awful he must
feel to be so out of control. I know in my head I am
not a bad parent, but I *felt* like a bad parent. And
how those pedestrians walking by looked at us will
stay with me forever.
Also, I often feel completely ineffective in my
advocacy for my son. I know I am getting better and
learning more all the time, but this is my son. My
beautiful brown-eyed angel boy being called "lazy"
and "unmotivated" just makes me sad. That means that
the school isn't recognizing the good things in him
and is not recognizing his condition, and
particularly, they are not noticing how bonebreakingly
hard he is working all the time, nor how hard we are
working with him, so he can live his dreams.
While the diagnosis of cerebral palsy will help some
of that, I am not always ready to deal with the pity I
see in people when I tell them he has cerebral palsy
and ADHD, any more than I was prepared to deal with
the school's complete ignorance about his ADHD before
his cerebral palsy diagnosis.
I would have stayed to talk, but after examining my
fragility level I realized I'd end up in tears again
and it took me a while to get calm the first time, so
I decided I'd write.
The neurology appointment for our first opinion is on
Monday. My root canal is Tuesday. In some ways, I
think the root canal will be a lot easier.
Monday, March 22, 2004
I am getting really annoyed.
My MIL is really pushing. She keeps sending these syrupy emails to me that are inferences to demonstrate that she thinks I'm a great mom. They're those stupid email forward things that blather poetic that I think if they came from anyone else, I would tolerate them, skim them, and hit delete. However, being that they are from the woman who has made it clear in no uncertain terms that she thinks I suck, I'm made a little nauseous by them.
I guess I'm not won over easily by platitudes in light of behavior that has truly demonstrated that she doesn't actually hold me in any light other than the cold plastic glow of contempt. At this point, the feeling is mutual.
And email that reeks of hypocrisy is nothing short of insulting.
I know she's been trying to see if she can come "visit" sooner, however, I am done. In my fantasy, I am not here because I am certain that I'll have determined that I have other stuff to do in a different state that must be done the week she comes because the thought of having to deal with her in my home around my children makes me ill. The drag is that logisitically that is not possible without fucking up Mike because he'll be in the middle of his annual massive overtime gig, which means I'll be single parenting 16 hours a day, and even if he isn't, it'll be sticking him in the role of singleparenting which is not bad, but is hard and stressful on him. However, the thought of entertaining my mother-in-law, while being under her constant scrutiny with the security that she'll make commentary about how with her kids she did everything differently and the constant inference being what a rotten mother I am is truly an anti-thrill -- under the category of chewing glass, undergoing a root canal, and giving birth, simultaneously. The thought of doing that without Mike's support is unthinkable.
Yeah, come to my house, put my parenting under a microscope and tell me how you'd do things differently. Yup, we all saw how your parenting worked out. I guess one drug addict out of 4 isn't a bad average. Yeesh!
Mike is already writing the email that delineates what dates in the next several months will work and what dates won't work around his schedule. Of course, if he mentions that I'm considering leaving the state, he's getting a purple nurple.
I just don't want to deal with her shit. What cool about this time, is that my husband will stand up for me and we can always send her out of the house. He's also making it clear that she'll be staying in a hotel and has even offered to pay for it -- I told Mike,"Just say you'd be happy to pay for a hotel." Mike said,"I'd be 'happy' to pay for it?" I asked,"Okay, do you want your mom to stay here?" He basically did the "hell-no!" headshake and hurriedly typed how happy he would be to pay for her room.
I love my husband. I'm glad he loves me.
My MIL is really pushing. She keeps sending these syrupy emails to me that are inferences to demonstrate that she thinks I'm a great mom. They're those stupid email forward things that blather poetic that I think if they came from anyone else, I would tolerate them, skim them, and hit delete. However, being that they are from the woman who has made it clear in no uncertain terms that she thinks I suck, I'm made a little nauseous by them.
I guess I'm not won over easily by platitudes in light of behavior that has truly demonstrated that she doesn't actually hold me in any light other than the cold plastic glow of contempt. At this point, the feeling is mutual.
And email that reeks of hypocrisy is nothing short of insulting.
I know she's been trying to see if she can come "visit" sooner, however, I am done. In my fantasy, I am not here because I am certain that I'll have determined that I have other stuff to do in a different state that must be done the week she comes because the thought of having to deal with her in my home around my children makes me ill. The drag is that logisitically that is not possible without fucking up Mike because he'll be in the middle of his annual massive overtime gig, which means I'll be single parenting 16 hours a day, and even if he isn't, it'll be sticking him in the role of singleparenting which is not bad, but is hard and stressful on him. However, the thought of entertaining my mother-in-law, while being under her constant scrutiny with the security that she'll make commentary about how with her kids she did everything differently and the constant inference being what a rotten mother I am is truly an anti-thrill -- under the category of chewing glass, undergoing a root canal, and giving birth, simultaneously. The thought of doing that without Mike's support is unthinkable.
Yeah, come to my house, put my parenting under a microscope and tell me how you'd do things differently. Yup, we all saw how your parenting worked out. I guess one drug addict out of 4 isn't a bad average. Yeesh!
Mike is already writing the email that delineates what dates in the next several months will work and what dates won't work around his schedule. Of course, if he mentions that I'm considering leaving the state, he's getting a purple nurple.
I just don't want to deal with her shit. What cool about this time, is that my husband will stand up for me and we can always send her out of the house. He's also making it clear that she'll be staying in a hotel and has even offered to pay for it -- I told Mike,"Just say you'd be happy to pay for a hotel." Mike said,"I'd be 'happy' to pay for it?" I asked,"Okay, do you want your mom to stay here?" He basically did the "hell-no!" headshake and hurriedly typed how happy he would be to pay for her room.
I love my husband. I'm glad he loves me.
Saturday, March 20, 2004
So, I know the oven repair guy is coming today and we got told yesterday to expect him late because despite the fact that we had a "morning" appointment, we were number eight on a list of 18. So I'm thinking about dinner time, you know?
He called at 11 and said within about 45 minutes.
I've been a raving lunatic because I expected I had all leisurely danged day to clean the house, so he didn't report us to the health department and well, we don't.
Mike showered and then finished the mopping. I had Russell vacuum twice (poor kid!) and kept sending Genny outside to play so she wouldn't muck anything up.
Oh, and I'm sitting here half dressed (try not to imagine -- you'll make yourself ill) typing this, wondering if the noises I'm hearing in the kitchen are the guy or Mike finishing the floors.
(PLEASEOHPLEASELETITBEMIKE)
And dude -- I'm finding fleece for $2-4 a yard on sale at various places and making quick blankets for Genny's preschool. I've got to get to the other ones, but I think I'm going to end up waiting til May, as I'm up to my butt in papers this month and work and stuff like that.
Must. Flee. This. Place.
He called at 11 and said within about 45 minutes.
I've been a raving lunatic because I expected I had all leisurely danged day to clean the house, so he didn't report us to the health department and well, we don't.
Mike showered and then finished the mopping. I had Russell vacuum twice (poor kid!) and kept sending Genny outside to play so she wouldn't muck anything up.
Oh, and I'm sitting here half dressed (try not to imagine -- you'll make yourself ill) typing this, wondering if the noises I'm hearing in the kitchen are the guy or Mike finishing the floors.
(PLEASEOHPLEASELETITBEMIKE)
And dude -- I'm finding fleece for $2-4 a yard on sale at various places and making quick blankets for Genny's preschool. I've got to get to the other ones, but I think I'm going to end up waiting til May, as I'm up to my butt in papers this month and work and stuff like that.
Must. Flee. This. Place.
Friday, March 19, 2004
The Friday Five
If you ....
1. ...owned a restaurant, what kind of food would you serve?
I would probably serve homestyle meals for families. I would also probably have a pretty extensive selection of vegetarian selections because I'm a really good vegetarian cook. Though my family will eat such things, my husband would rather have his meat and potatoes. The only exception he makes to that is my vegetarian lasagna which is famous with friends in several states. I haven't had the time to do tofu balls, but I think I could win him on that, too.
I make really good meals. I have a good sense of smell, so I know rather intuitively the kinds of things to make each meal amazing. I swear I am not bragging. I have friends who come to my house to eat on a regular basis and rave on and on about the food.
My desserts, on the other hand, are pretty limited. I make a really yummy chocolate chip cookie and delish brownies. Beyond that I am the undisputed queen of the lemon cake and any kind of fresh fruit betty, torte, or pie. I think for desserts I would have my friend Mel and her sister come bake for me and we'd run the place together. Those two are amazing dessert chefs. *drool*
I would also, due to my deep and abiding love of the chile pepper have to have an extensive salsa bar.
2. ...owned a small store, what kind of merchandise would you sell?
I would run a thrift shop that helped the poor in my community. I would see people's throw away stuff and I'd probably even go so far as to sell stuff that would help someone refinish furniture pieces and I would specialize in retaining kids' clothes for all sizes. I might even run furniture refinishing classes to help folks do a good job of it.
3. ...wrote a book, what genre would it be?
I still want to write a book on the families of children with disabilities.
4. ...ran a school, what would you teach?
I would teach hands on science, and would find ways of including everything else in the same gasp. By teaching science that kids can touch, you can include literacy, math, and a lot of other stuff. You could teach chemical reactions by having kids bake! You could show the life cycle by having them grow a garden and figure out ways to keep the bunnies out.
5. ...recorded an album, what kind of music would be on it?
Irish folk music.
If you ....
1. ...owned a restaurant, what kind of food would you serve?
I would probably serve homestyle meals for families. I would also probably have a pretty extensive selection of vegetarian selections because I'm a really good vegetarian cook. Though my family will eat such things, my husband would rather have his meat and potatoes. The only exception he makes to that is my vegetarian lasagna which is famous with friends in several states. I haven't had the time to do tofu balls, but I think I could win him on that, too.
I make really good meals. I have a good sense of smell, so I know rather intuitively the kinds of things to make each meal amazing. I swear I am not bragging. I have friends who come to my house to eat on a regular basis and rave on and on about the food.
My desserts, on the other hand, are pretty limited. I make a really yummy chocolate chip cookie and delish brownies. Beyond that I am the undisputed queen of the lemon cake and any kind of fresh fruit betty, torte, or pie. I think for desserts I would have my friend Mel and her sister come bake for me and we'd run the place together. Those two are amazing dessert chefs. *drool*
I would also, due to my deep and abiding love of the chile pepper have to have an extensive salsa bar.
2. ...owned a small store, what kind of merchandise would you sell?
I would run a thrift shop that helped the poor in my community. I would see people's throw away stuff and I'd probably even go so far as to sell stuff that would help someone refinish furniture pieces and I would specialize in retaining kids' clothes for all sizes. I might even run furniture refinishing classes to help folks do a good job of it.
3. ...wrote a book, what genre would it be?
I still want to write a book on the families of children with disabilities.
4. ...ran a school, what would you teach?
I would teach hands on science, and would find ways of including everything else in the same gasp. By teaching science that kids can touch, you can include literacy, math, and a lot of other stuff. You could teach chemical reactions by having kids bake! You could show the life cycle by having them grow a garden and figure out ways to keep the bunnies out.
5. ...recorded an album, what kind of music would be on it?
Irish folk music.
Thursday, March 18, 2004
Russell had his MRI yesterday. I stayed in the room with him, holding onto his leg while he tried to remain very very still. They'd given him a sedative, so the techs were able to get really clear and perfect shots of him. I was really surprised at just how still he could be.
The magnet stuff creeped me out entirely. I wanted to flee the room because I could feel it all around me and it was a force of will to remain in the room. It was pretty icky.
However, I think something's going on with Bear's meds. Yesterday and today, he's had a lot of tics. I think we may have to reduce how much medication he takes, but I'm waiting on the neurologist to do so. I was concerned last night because he was really bad after the sedative and S. was here and we were both freaking out about him. About the time I had finally decided I might have to take him to the emergency room, he got a lot more normal. He was still absent-minded as hell, but at least not moving his head from side to side, blinking, and wiggling his arms all over the place, while he was ostensibly trying to just leave them by his side.
God, this stuff is scarier than hell.
I made Genny the dress. I ended up in 1230AM forgoing the whole pinafore over the top of shamrock fabric and just making a sash. I'll make the pinafore for the easter outfit. I was lazy and just put a hem of lace on because I didn't want to slip stitch anything at 1AM, oddly enough. Apparently, her daycare folks made a big stink and she was still twirling around the house when she came home. Next year, I'm just buying her the shirt.
I made the meatballs right. Two times running Mike has made them and they've been icky. The first time, he used ground turkey and there's something way revolting about turkey and spaghetti sauce. The second time, they just weren't right. I don't know what he did, but they were just off.
Tonight, I made them. They smell right and delicious and everything right.
The magnet stuff creeped me out entirely. I wanted to flee the room because I could feel it all around me and it was a force of will to remain in the room. It was pretty icky.
However, I think something's going on with Bear's meds. Yesterday and today, he's had a lot of tics. I think we may have to reduce how much medication he takes, but I'm waiting on the neurologist to do so. I was concerned last night because he was really bad after the sedative and S. was here and we were both freaking out about him. About the time I had finally decided I might have to take him to the emergency room, he got a lot more normal. He was still absent-minded as hell, but at least not moving his head from side to side, blinking, and wiggling his arms all over the place, while he was ostensibly trying to just leave them by his side.
God, this stuff is scarier than hell.
I made Genny the dress. I ended up in 1230AM forgoing the whole pinafore over the top of shamrock fabric and just making a sash. I'll make the pinafore for the easter outfit. I was lazy and just put a hem of lace on because I didn't want to slip stitch anything at 1AM, oddly enough. Apparently, her daycare folks made a big stink and she was still twirling around the house when she came home. Next year, I'm just buying her the shirt.
I made the meatballs right. Two times running Mike has made them and they've been icky. The first time, he used ground turkey and there's something way revolting about turkey and spaghetti sauce. The second time, they just weren't right. I don't know what he did, but they were just off.
Tonight, I made them. They smell right and delicious and everything right.
Tuesday, March 16, 2004
Well, you gotta watch for those toxic chemicals these days, I tell ya.
I'm writing my paper about my pretend child -- she's a 17 year old mentally retarded girl who is non-verbal, violent, and so far has not figured the social graces necessary to work well with others. The thing is -- I think if I had had a retarded child first, I wouldn't have the other two. I think that Russell takes a lot of work and effort and he's a smart capable kid in a lot of ways. I cannot imagine having to cope with a child with severe mental retardation and have to consider the possibility of a long-term care facility for my child.
In fact, I think it takes pure guts to have a second child after having a retarded child. I know I wouldn't have done it. And it's not that I'm being selfish, I just know that I wouldn't have a whole lot left over after dealing with a retarded child when I was a single mom. I barely had much left over after dealing with my constantly sick Bear boy as it was and is and I often feel guilty for the bare minimum attention Genny gets after I've done all the crap I have to do for Russell. I often find myself making up for it somehow.
My latest guilt trip involves making her a green dress for St. Patrick's Day. I'm making the middle dress with a green gingham under dress and a shamrock pinafore. The pinafore will be switched out to a matching butterfly and flowers in blue for Easter. Two bangs for my buck, baby!
The bunnies are frisky, the quail are nesting as cute as can be in little holes under branches of sage brush, and the new rooster has his phermone thing going on. This is of course the same rooster that attacked my ass on Saturday. I bent over and was collecting eggs and suddenly felt something weird and painful on my butt. Thinking it was my husband trying to playfully smack me with the rake or something I whirled to see this F**KING rooster start to fluff up his feathers and go to make another pass at me. I got the rake and chased his stupid fowl ass out of the hen house. I came out and looked at my husband and in utter disbelief uttered the phrase,"That stupid cock attacked my ass."
My husband, stupid man that he is, could not contain his smirk. He said,"I know how he feels." I glared at him and dusted off my butt and stomped inside, swearing to wreak all kinds of fowl havoc upon the rooster and inflict celibacy infinitum upon the husband.
Instead, I just made Mike collect the eggs because the rooster doesn't attack his ass and I attacked Mike, which worked well for all involved.
I'm writing my paper about my pretend child -- she's a 17 year old mentally retarded girl who is non-verbal, violent, and so far has not figured the social graces necessary to work well with others. The thing is -- I think if I had had a retarded child first, I wouldn't have the other two. I think that Russell takes a lot of work and effort and he's a smart capable kid in a lot of ways. I cannot imagine having to cope with a child with severe mental retardation and have to consider the possibility of a long-term care facility for my child.
In fact, I think it takes pure guts to have a second child after having a retarded child. I know I wouldn't have done it. And it's not that I'm being selfish, I just know that I wouldn't have a whole lot left over after dealing with a retarded child when I was a single mom. I barely had much left over after dealing with my constantly sick Bear boy as it was and is and I often feel guilty for the bare minimum attention Genny gets after I've done all the crap I have to do for Russell. I often find myself making up for it somehow.
My latest guilt trip involves making her a green dress for St. Patrick's Day. I'm making the middle dress with a green gingham under dress and a shamrock pinafore. The pinafore will be switched out to a matching butterfly and flowers in blue for Easter. Two bangs for my buck, baby!
The bunnies are frisky, the quail are nesting as cute as can be in little holes under branches of sage brush, and the new rooster has his phermone thing going on. This is of course the same rooster that attacked my ass on Saturday. I bent over and was collecting eggs and suddenly felt something weird and painful on my butt. Thinking it was my husband trying to playfully smack me with the rake or something I whirled to see this F**KING rooster start to fluff up his feathers and go to make another pass at me. I got the rake and chased his stupid fowl ass out of the hen house. I came out and looked at my husband and in utter disbelief uttered the phrase,"That stupid cock attacked my ass."
My husband, stupid man that he is, could not contain his smirk. He said,"I know how he feels." I glared at him and dusted off my butt and stomped inside, swearing to wreak all kinds of fowl havoc upon the rooster and inflict celibacy infinitum upon the husband.
Instead, I just made Mike collect the eggs because the rooster doesn't attack his ass and I attacked Mike, which worked well for all involved.
Friday, March 12, 2004
It must be spring.
I had this odd thought -- wow, there's grass in my flower bed and I don't want it there. Then I bent over and pulled some of it out. Then, I thought,"hey, I should go get a damned shovel and dig the big rooted in alfalfa out" -- hay seeded I'm sure, but then I had this other idea...I should buy bags of steer manure, turn the soil and buy seeds of pretty flowers to put in all the bare treated soil. Way sick. Way wrong. I've got papers to write, manuals to edit, and tons of calls to make. But the smell of freshly turned soil turns me into the addict I am -- a gardening fool.
Spring always does these weird things to me. Because then I was looking out back at the apple tree, the pear tree, and the two peach trees and I was thinking how I need to get fruit tree fertilizer and the pruners and get cracking. Then I had chainsaw dreams for the ugly locust trees in the front yard, one of which when fully leaved partially blocks my awesome view of valley below and the Sierras. Then I was looking at my front yard and thinking about what a blank slate it is. I imagined the tiered raised beds with a little lavendar and sedum, with poppies and echinacea popping out all over. Then I think I had one.
I had a xeriscape orgasm.
Damn, I need a life.
I had this odd thought -- wow, there's grass in my flower bed and I don't want it there. Then I bent over and pulled some of it out. Then, I thought,"hey, I should go get a damned shovel and dig the big rooted in alfalfa out" -- hay seeded I'm sure, but then I had this other idea...I should buy bags of steer manure, turn the soil and buy seeds of pretty flowers to put in all the bare treated soil. Way sick. Way wrong. I've got papers to write, manuals to edit, and tons of calls to make. But the smell of freshly turned soil turns me into the addict I am -- a gardening fool.
Spring always does these weird things to me. Because then I was looking out back at the apple tree, the pear tree, and the two peach trees and I was thinking how I need to get fruit tree fertilizer and the pruners and get cracking. Then I had chainsaw dreams for the ugly locust trees in the front yard, one of which when fully leaved partially blocks my awesome view of valley below and the Sierras. Then I was looking at my front yard and thinking about what a blank slate it is. I imagined the tiered raised beds with a little lavendar and sedum, with poppies and echinacea popping out all over. Then I think I had one.
I had a xeriscape orgasm.
Damn, I need a life.
Wednesday, March 10, 2004
I had a mid-term today and well, you know me. I studied my fool head off, but most particularly, I found a website of the publisher of the book that had a bunch of multiple choice, short-answer, and true-false questions for each chapter. Apparently, the professor found the same site because 75% of the questions on the test were from that website -- word for word.
Score!
And I hadn't read all the text.
BAD graduate student! BADDDDD!
Hee! Nonetheless, my 4-7 class was done by 450! You still needed to scrape the char off me and call me toast, however. I'm still doing that insane insomnia thing. Ambien, schmambien.
If I were someone else watching me, I'd say I needed to get laid. And I'd be right. Too much stress is bad. Too much sex is rarely bad, not to mention badly rare.
Where did I leave that hubbins?
Score!
And I hadn't read all the text.
BAD graduate student! BADDDDD!
Hee! Nonetheless, my 4-7 class was done by 450! You still needed to scrape the char off me and call me toast, however. I'm still doing that insane insomnia thing. Ambien, schmambien.
If I were someone else watching me, I'd say I needed to get laid. And I'd be right. Too much stress is bad. Too much sex is rarely bad, not to mention badly rare.
Where did I leave that hubbins?
Tuesday, March 09, 2004
Just call me the undisputed queen of the very long day.
I did an observation today of a child who has all the earmarks of a very ADHD child at my babygirl's old daycare. It made me sad. He absolutely was not able to stop fidgeting. All the other kids were attentive during reading time, but he was alternately playing with his tongue and then his fingers & tongue so much that he ended up drooling on himself and having to wipe his chin. Which while damned funny, also represents a problem in terms of how school will work out for him later.
During schoolwork time, he absolutely could not stay on task for any reason. While he did a much better job of coloring than the other kid, the other kid was done with all his schoolwork and playing in about 20 minutes. This kid was still at it after 45.
He seemed behaviorally okay, other than the obvious attention issues, while I was there. However, the caregiver informed me that he got into a knockdown drag out brawl with another kid after I left, which is precisely the reason I wanted to observe him, but I will just keep visiting and then come up with a plan with his caregiver. So far, whenever I've been there, he's been good as gold, so maybe we need to get past the "Hey, cool new person spending time here" phase and get right down to the "I'm comfortable with you around, so I'm going to knock the socks off another kid" phase.
I think he is a kid that would really benefit from a positive reward system. I've got to get my damned book from Am@zon, though, to start to discuss it with his caregiver.
His parents are very touchy about the whole thing
I did an observation today of a child who has all the earmarks of a very ADHD child at my babygirl's old daycare. It made me sad. He absolutely was not able to stop fidgeting. All the other kids were attentive during reading time, but he was alternately playing with his tongue and then his fingers & tongue so much that he ended up drooling on himself and having to wipe his chin. Which while damned funny, also represents a problem in terms of how school will work out for him later.
During schoolwork time, he absolutely could not stay on task for any reason. While he did a much better job of coloring than the other kid, the other kid was done with all his schoolwork and playing in about 20 minutes. This kid was still at it after 45.
He seemed behaviorally okay, other than the obvious attention issues, while I was there. However, the caregiver informed me that he got into a knockdown drag out brawl with another kid after I left, which is precisely the reason I wanted to observe him, but I will just keep visiting and then come up with a plan with his caregiver. So far, whenever I've been there, he's been good as gold, so maybe we need to get past the "Hey, cool new person spending time here" phase and get right down to the "I'm comfortable with you around, so I'm going to knock the socks off another kid" phase.
I think he is a kid that would really benefit from a positive reward system. I've got to get my damned book from Am@zon, though, to start to discuss it with his caregiver.
His parents are very touchy about the whole thing
Monday, March 08, 2004
Yesterday, was a really good day. I got a lot done and that kept me busy. I cooked a big dinner for the guys, so Russ would sleep well for his sleep study.
And then today arrived, and I just was feeling like a bad mommy again. And no, it doesn't make sense. I'm not a bad mommy and I know that, but sometimes, I just feel like a bad mommy and I just have to ride it out. I am struck by how I am experiencing this as a grieving process. Some days, I cry and some days I don't. Today, was a cry day.
I'm in the process of getting records from the hospital and from the special education preschool. I talked to the legal advocacy people and they're probably going to come to the IEP meeting, so I get the IEP written well. I was surprised as we talked about this stuff on the phone, just how clear I am about exactly what I think needs to happen for him. Then, I began to think about how little I've been listened to and the Bad Mommy feeling came back.
I told my class about it tonight and I thought I would cry, and while I came dangerously close, I took strength when they laughed when I said,"Hey, on the good news front, I will never have to fight for his IEP eligibility again." After the IEP has been put together, I will go to the regional center and will apply for Medicaid and SSI as protectionary measures -- just in case. He may be able to draw SSI into an account that he can access when he is 18, which will supplement the money we are saving for his college fund. I figure, if something happens and he needs that money, then it is all set up for him in advance. I told LaDawn, so she does the same thing for her kid.
The class tonight is the class for the instructor whose parents were in the car wreck. She brought matchbox cars and showed us what happened. I wish she hadn't. I was fighting the tears listening to how her elderly parents got out of the car after the first car sideswiped them. The second car that hit 10 minutes later is the one that hurt her dad, who has been in a coma since that moment. Her mother is a diabetic in a wheelchair, who relied on her husband for her care. Overall, it's very sad. The instructor's going to be going down there all the time, but I asked, "If you mother is dependent on your father for her care, are you going to see about a home healthcare aide while he's in the hospital?" She had already talked about if her father passed that her mother would come live with her, so I wasn't being totally tactless, though afterwards, I wish I'd just shut up about it. But I love this woman like she's family, so I'm worried. She's iconic in the amount of respect she has and she doesn't even have the title of professor to bandy about, as she's in the doctoral program, but people know her better than the chair. I just wish I could do more to be helpful.
On my own health front, my diabetes is not hideous, but it's not great either. I'm not testing sugars much at all, and I should be. I'm not exercising and I should be. I am losing weight because generally, I'm just not eating what I should be. I need to be doing all of my shoulds, however, because swollen ankles are pretty common for me and that's a bad thing. It's beautiful spring weather, so tomorrow after lunch, I'm going to walk. I figure something every so often is better than nothing ever and with the weather being so lovely, I need to do my part to increase my spring freckle population. Tomorrow, I promised Russell I'd get up with him and cook him breakfast, so we could hang together a little while. So I'll cook myself a little something, too.
One. Day. At. A. Time.
And then today arrived, and I just was feeling like a bad mommy again. And no, it doesn't make sense. I'm not a bad mommy and I know that, but sometimes, I just feel like a bad mommy and I just have to ride it out. I am struck by how I am experiencing this as a grieving process. Some days, I cry and some days I don't. Today, was a cry day.
I'm in the process of getting records from the hospital and from the special education preschool. I talked to the legal advocacy people and they're probably going to come to the IEP meeting, so I get the IEP written well. I was surprised as we talked about this stuff on the phone, just how clear I am about exactly what I think needs to happen for him. Then, I began to think about how little I've been listened to and the Bad Mommy feeling came back.
I told my class about it tonight and I thought I would cry, and while I came dangerously close, I took strength when they laughed when I said,"Hey, on the good news front, I will never have to fight for his IEP eligibility again." After the IEP has been put together, I will go to the regional center and will apply for Medicaid and SSI as protectionary measures -- just in case. He may be able to draw SSI into an account that he can access when he is 18, which will supplement the money we are saving for his college fund. I figure, if something happens and he needs that money, then it is all set up for him in advance. I told LaDawn, so she does the same thing for her kid.
The class tonight is the class for the instructor whose parents were in the car wreck. She brought matchbox cars and showed us what happened. I wish she hadn't. I was fighting the tears listening to how her elderly parents got out of the car after the first car sideswiped them. The second car that hit 10 minutes later is the one that hurt her dad, who has been in a coma since that moment. Her mother is a diabetic in a wheelchair, who relied on her husband for her care. Overall, it's very sad. The instructor's going to be going down there all the time, but I asked, "If you mother is dependent on your father for her care, are you going to see about a home healthcare aide while he's in the hospital?" She had already talked about if her father passed that her mother would come live with her, so I wasn't being totally tactless, though afterwards, I wish I'd just shut up about it. But I love this woman like she's family, so I'm worried. She's iconic in the amount of respect she has and she doesn't even have the title of professor to bandy about, as she's in the doctoral program, but people know her better than the chair. I just wish I could do more to be helpful.
On my own health front, my diabetes is not hideous, but it's not great either. I'm not testing sugars much at all, and I should be. I'm not exercising and I should be. I am losing weight because generally, I'm just not eating what I should be. I need to be doing all of my shoulds, however, because swollen ankles are pretty common for me and that's a bad thing. It's beautiful spring weather, so tomorrow after lunch, I'm going to walk. I figure something every so often is better than nothing ever and with the weather being so lovely, I need to do my part to increase my spring freckle population. Tomorrow, I promised Russell I'd get up with him and cook him breakfast, so we could hang together a little while. So I'll cook myself a little something, too.
One. Day. At. A. Time.
Friday, March 05, 2004
Friday Five
What was...
1. ...your first grade teacher's name?
Mrs. Fuller -- an honest to God battleaxe. She used to smack Georgy Porgy Puddin' and Pie's finger and Skipper McGoldrick, too. But if you'd known, Skipper, you'd have smacked him just for fun.
2. ...your favorite Saturday morning cartoon?
Gumby. Just shut up. I like Gumby. He was the bomb.
3. ...the name of your very first best friend?
Bill -- my brother. In elementary school, with 50% of the population suffering from some level of emotional or behavioral disorder, I didn't have many friends. I had four different schools from grade 6-9, so really I didn't have a best friend until high school and her name was An Ho. We invented our own language so we could talk about people without them knowing what we were saying. The only remaining word from that now lost language is "egnarts." Strange spelled backwards. Mentioning this word within a 10 block radius of either myself or An will result in an eruption of school girl laughter, I am under no obligation to explain.
4. ...your favorite breakfast cereal?
Grapenuts, loaded with sugar and milk and allowed to sit til slightly soft.
5. ...your favorite thing to do after school?
I am a book worm. What do you think? I read. When I finished reading, I read some more. I also climbed trees, hiked in the woods, skated, and cross-country skiied.
Still working on the Bear stuff. Didn't sleep much last night.
What'd the neurologist do to figure out cerebral palsy?
In order to reach his determination, the neurologist had him do some things. He had him close his eyes, put out his tongue and hold his arms in front of him with his fingers splayed. Most of us do that and our fingers stay relatively still. Russell's fingers were wiggling -- Pachtels/Bechtels I think they're called. He also said that his heel cords are really tight, something the PT said also, and asked if he walks on his toes, which he does. When he asked him to let his arms or legs go, there was a lot of tension in them and the doctor had a name for that also. His super thin body and lack of musculature and strength was another concern. Also, I think his history -- he had/has a hard time eating, he has always fallen a lot, he's always been uncoordinated, he has tremendous difficulty with fine motor tasks (I still help him button his dress shirts), and his odd gait were all also factors in this.
The PT wrote that she's worried about him in junior high because he's really easy to topple and all that jostling from class to class might make it easy to drop him. I worry about that one step further -- kids aren't nice and they might intentionally drop him.
I've been bawling all night. I should be counting my blessings -- he's not in a wheel chair, he doesn't have MR from this -- all in all it's pretty mild. I can't help reviewing every aspect of my pregnancy, his birth, etc., and wondering what I did to make this happen. That probably makes no sense at all, but it's where I am. I had some tactless boob send me the following:
I looked on the UCP website, and it said that perhaps 70% of CP cases aren't due to birth trauma, but start even before that...so it may not necessarily have anything to do with what happened at the hospital.
I emailed a friend through tears the following response:
This really sent me over the edge. Rational or not, in my hidden heart, it's all my fault, whether it is or not. I was trying to comfort myself with the fact that it was a really rough delivery and maybe trying too hard to put a brave face to how I was feeling because this hurts so deeply and profoundly. Every time I look at him, I want to throw myself at his feet and ask him to forgive me.
I've spent hours bawling over this. 70%? It really was my fault and I can never take back whatever stupid thing I did when I was pregnant that hurt him. I keep thinking maybe it was the bronchitis or some other thing I did that I just can't remember. I wanted to hope it was that nurse on top of me in surgery. I keep thinking about how I should have known to push his pediatrician or to just know that he wasn't like the other kids and it wasn't just ear infections. I had no basis of comparison or just didn't see it when I did.
I am so stupid and inept and he deserves so much more than this.
My bear did get a good night's sleep last night. His eye shadows weren't so deep this morning -- it's been a long time since I've seen that much light skin under his eyes. He has the sleep study on Sunday, so we'll probably go swimming to wear the kids out, so he sleeps well at the clinic.
They will call to schedule the MRI and the EEG is a week from Monday. I think those are more for his ADHD and to rule out other possibilities. It may also be possible to determine what part of his brain is affected.
What was...
1. ...your first grade teacher's name?
Mrs. Fuller -- an honest to God battleaxe. She used to smack Georgy Porgy Puddin' and Pie's finger and Skipper McGoldrick, too. But if you'd known, Skipper, you'd have smacked him just for fun.
2. ...your favorite Saturday morning cartoon?
Gumby. Just shut up. I like Gumby. He was the bomb.
3. ...the name of your very first best friend?
Bill -- my brother. In elementary school, with 50% of the population suffering from some level of emotional or behavioral disorder, I didn't have many friends. I had four different schools from grade 6-9, so really I didn't have a best friend until high school and her name was An Ho. We invented our own language so we could talk about people without them knowing what we were saying. The only remaining word from that now lost language is "egnarts." Strange spelled backwards. Mentioning this word within a 10 block radius of either myself or An will result in an eruption of school girl laughter, I am under no obligation to explain.
4. ...your favorite breakfast cereal?
Grapenuts, loaded with sugar and milk and allowed to sit til slightly soft.
5. ...your favorite thing to do after school?
I am a book worm. What do you think? I read. When I finished reading, I read some more. I also climbed trees, hiked in the woods, skated, and cross-country skiied.
Still working on the Bear stuff. Didn't sleep much last night.
What'd the neurologist do to figure out cerebral palsy?
In order to reach his determination, the neurologist had him do some things. He had him close his eyes, put out his tongue and hold his arms in front of him with his fingers splayed. Most of us do that and our fingers stay relatively still. Russell's fingers were wiggling -- Pachtels/Bechtels I think they're called. He also said that his heel cords are really tight, something the PT said also, and asked if he walks on his toes, which he does. When he asked him to let his arms or legs go, there was a lot of tension in them and the doctor had a name for that also. His super thin body and lack of musculature and strength was another concern. Also, I think his history -- he had/has a hard time eating, he has always fallen a lot, he's always been uncoordinated, he has tremendous difficulty with fine motor tasks (I still help him button his dress shirts), and his odd gait were all also factors in this.
The PT wrote that she's worried about him in junior high because he's really easy to topple and all that jostling from class to class might make it easy to drop him. I worry about that one step further -- kids aren't nice and they might intentionally drop him.
I've been bawling all night. I should be counting my blessings -- he's not in a wheel chair, he doesn't have MR from this -- all in all it's pretty mild. I can't help reviewing every aspect of my pregnancy, his birth, etc., and wondering what I did to make this happen. That probably makes no sense at all, but it's where I am. I had some tactless boob send me the following:
I looked on the UCP website, and it said that perhaps 70% of CP cases aren't due to birth trauma, but start even before that...so it may not necessarily have anything to do with what happened at the hospital.
I emailed a friend through tears the following response:
This really sent me over the edge. Rational or not, in my hidden heart, it's all my fault, whether it is or not. I was trying to comfort myself with the fact that it was a really rough delivery and maybe trying too hard to put a brave face to how I was feeling because this hurts so deeply and profoundly. Every time I look at him, I want to throw myself at his feet and ask him to forgive me.
I've spent hours bawling over this. 70%? It really was my fault and I can never take back whatever stupid thing I did when I was pregnant that hurt him. I keep thinking maybe it was the bronchitis or some other thing I did that I just can't remember. I wanted to hope it was that nurse on top of me in surgery. I keep thinking about how I should have known to push his pediatrician or to just know that he wasn't like the other kids and it wasn't just ear infections. I had no basis of comparison or just didn't see it when I did.
I am so stupid and inept and he deserves so much more than this.
My bear did get a good night's sleep last night. His eye shadows weren't so deep this morning -- it's been a long time since I've seen that much light skin under his eyes. He has the sleep study on Sunday, so we'll probably go swimming to wear the kids out, so he sleeps well at the clinic.
They will call to schedule the MRI and the EEG is a week from Monday. I think those are more for his ADHD and to rule out other possibilities. It may also be possible to determine what part of his brain is affected.
Thursday, March 04, 2004
Russell had his first neurology appointment today. I hadn't seriously considered cerebral palsy until Tuesday night when the physical therapist from the school called and said that she thought he might have a mild form of cerebral palsy. The neurologist confirmed that Russell has mild cerebral palsy. I called my friend, Robin, who attended his birth and as we talked about things, I am positive it was a birth trauma and that the hospital may have done things to cover it up. I am remembering more about the birth and I remember seeing the nurse/midwife get on the table and she was pushing on him so hard that I could feel it through the spinal block. She had to have been pushing on his shoulders and head because he was wedged up into my organs and he was breech. Then he spent 1-2 hours on a warming tray because he was blue. I don't know if I can realistically pursue anything after so much time has passed. I am not even sure that the RN in the birthing room with me (as my birthing parnter) is still alive to confirm this, but remembering it, is comforting, as I needed to know that I didn't do something that might have done this to him for my own peace of mind.
All that matters now is that I don't have to fight with the schools any more. He qualifies for special education automatically with CP, as it is considered brain trauma. We can get him physical therapy and help him. I am also sure I can request a lot more OT than he's currently getting.
Additionally, we are getting a sleep study done because there is a strong correlation between ADHD severity and sleep deprivation, which we definitely think is a contributing factor in Russell's case -- he wakes up a lot, has a hard time dropping off, he snores, and he's a mouth breather with a BIG overbite. We are also getting an MRI and and EEG done. At the end of the month, my hope is that he will be on less medication and getting more sleep.
Ultimately, the cerebral palsy diagnosis changes little other than I won't have to fight with the school to make him eligible for services any more. I let the school know already that we will be changing his eligibility to brain trauma. The special ed teacher smiled when I told him that I'll never have problems with eligibility again. Now, it's just a matter of negotiating necessary services for him. What the school can't and won't provide, we will do through insurance. I think because of his disability, I may be able to qualify him for help from the government, too, so that we don't have to tax our insurance overly.
I'm very sad and angry about the time that has elapsed. I'm angry about the pediatrician who blew me off when I asked about CP when Russell was 2.5. I am sad about the lost time, which could have made a huge difference in his life because with a lot of physical therapy, he could be a different boy physically. However, it does make a lot of things in the past clearer.
As always, however, I love him fiercely. Both Mike and I were sure after doing a lot of online reading yesterday, that he has cerebral palsy, so the doctor's diagnosis wasn't a complete shock, though I was trying hard not to cry in front of Russell. I just didn't want him to think something was wrong -- I'm just relieved.
I'm going to go have a good cry, I think. And a nap.
All that matters now is that I don't have to fight with the schools any more. He qualifies for special education automatically with CP, as it is considered brain trauma. We can get him physical therapy and help him. I am also sure I can request a lot more OT than he's currently getting.
Additionally, we are getting a sleep study done because there is a strong correlation between ADHD severity and sleep deprivation, which we definitely think is a contributing factor in Russell's case -- he wakes up a lot, has a hard time dropping off, he snores, and he's a mouth breather with a BIG overbite. We are also getting an MRI and and EEG done. At the end of the month, my hope is that he will be on less medication and getting more sleep.
Ultimately, the cerebral palsy diagnosis changes little other than I won't have to fight with the school to make him eligible for services any more. I let the school know already that we will be changing his eligibility to brain trauma. The special ed teacher smiled when I told him that I'll never have problems with eligibility again. Now, it's just a matter of negotiating necessary services for him. What the school can't and won't provide, we will do through insurance. I think because of his disability, I may be able to qualify him for help from the government, too, so that we don't have to tax our insurance overly.
I'm very sad and angry about the time that has elapsed. I'm angry about the pediatrician who blew me off when I asked about CP when Russell was 2.5. I am sad about the lost time, which could have made a huge difference in his life because with a lot of physical therapy, he could be a different boy physically. However, it does make a lot of things in the past clearer.
As always, however, I love him fiercely. Both Mike and I were sure after doing a lot of online reading yesterday, that he has cerebral palsy, so the doctor's diagnosis wasn't a complete shock, though I was trying hard not to cry in front of Russell. I just didn't want him to think something was wrong -- I'm just relieved.
I'm going to go have a good cry, I think. And a nap.
Wednesday, March 03, 2004
Russell has always had an odd gait, trouble with fine motor control, speech problems, and coordination issues. He's also always had low muscle tone.
When he was 2.5, his special education preschool program suggested he might have Cerebral Palsy. I took him to the pediatrician; the pediatrician dismissed this. Of course, a few years later, when the school suggested that he might have ADHD, the pediatrician dismissed that, too. Because I was on an HMO, and I needed the pediatrician's referral, I couldn't just go to a neurologist, I had to have his referral. Because his office was the most reputable pediatrician's office around, I couldn't just change to another doctor in the practice because there was a good chance they'd turn me down. Not to mention, that because I was always out of sick and vacation time caring for a constantly ill child, I didn't have that much time to pursue this and I was usually just trying to contend with the latest ear infection or illness, while holding a full-time job and single momming.
When the psychiatrist suggested we should take him to a neurologist because of his gait and some tics, she had mentioned Tourette's Syndrome and Cerebral Palsy. Then several other people mentioned things about his gait.
Last night, a physical therapist from Russell's school had conducted an evaluation. When asked her opinion, she said that she thought he has mild cerebral palsy. She also said that her testing put him at about a 5 or 6 year old level of balance/coordination. I was stunned. I guess I shouldn't have been, but I was.
I started looking up everything I could find on cerebral palsy on the net. Mike did, too. At lunch, we quietly compared notes. We both think he has it, too, and always has. He has the things I mentioned above, he also had a hell of time and still does sometimes with eating and often choked or couldn't eat normally.
Tomorrow, he sees the neurologist. It doesn't change how sad and worried we both are about him and the urgency with which we want testing to commence. It doesn't change the years he could have been getting the therapy which would make him nearly normal and the IEP he would have been guaranteed.
But it could change his future, and that's what I am hanging onto tenaciously.
When he was 2.5, his special education preschool program suggested he might have Cerebral Palsy. I took him to the pediatrician; the pediatrician dismissed this. Of course, a few years later, when the school suggested that he might have ADHD, the pediatrician dismissed that, too. Because I was on an HMO, and I needed the pediatrician's referral, I couldn't just go to a neurologist, I had to have his referral. Because his office was the most reputable pediatrician's office around, I couldn't just change to another doctor in the practice because there was a good chance they'd turn me down. Not to mention, that because I was always out of sick and vacation time caring for a constantly ill child, I didn't have that much time to pursue this and I was usually just trying to contend with the latest ear infection or illness, while holding a full-time job and single momming.
When the psychiatrist suggested we should take him to a neurologist because of his gait and some tics, she had mentioned Tourette's Syndrome and Cerebral Palsy. Then several other people mentioned things about his gait.
Last night, a physical therapist from Russell's school had conducted an evaluation. When asked her opinion, she said that she thought he has mild cerebral palsy. She also said that her testing put him at about a 5 or 6 year old level of balance/coordination. I was stunned. I guess I shouldn't have been, but I was.
I started looking up everything I could find on cerebral palsy on the net. Mike did, too. At lunch, we quietly compared notes. We both think he has it, too, and always has. He has the things I mentioned above, he also had a hell of time and still does sometimes with eating and often choked or couldn't eat normally.
Tomorrow, he sees the neurologist. It doesn't change how sad and worried we both are about him and the urgency with which we want testing to commence. It doesn't change the years he could have been getting the therapy which would make him nearly normal and the IEP he would have been guaranteed.
But it could change his future, and that's what I am hanging onto tenaciously.
Sunday, February 29, 2004
On my kid's email list, someone's daughter experienced menarche -- her first period. While some women were extending congratulations to her through her mom I wasn't sure if I should offer congratulations or condolences.
Hey, welcome to the next 25 years of ruined underwear, horrible cramps, mood swings, and risk of pregnancy.
Whee! You're becoming a woman!
Enjoy your bleed. Have a nice day!
I've been working all day. Some of it is because one of my instructors' parents had a horrible car wreck. Her dad hasn't ever come out of the coma and neurosurgery has made no difference in his condition, which is just plain sad. I emailed a lot of people and it's just been a long afternoon around that and organizing a mess into something sensible for another prof. I still haven't started looking at the advisement manuals the Chair gave me.
Let's not even review the Laundry Mound (LM) that has started taking over the spare space in the garage and I think might have eaten some small rodents in its path. I will let you know if I find pellets in the dryer lint filter. We could reconstruct the skeletons and see what lives in my garage with LM and get a sense of what kind of rodentia preferences LM has. I wonder if LM will restrain children. Oh, the possibilities!
Last night, Mike and I had a date. We rented a video (Secondhand Lions), a pizza (BBQ chicken, red onions and sundried tomatoes) and watched it at my office at the uni. We really liked the video, so we'll probably buy the DVD for home. Afterwards, we went to a casino and I won $14 at the roulette table. I was up about $50 at one time, but if I'm playing on their money, I play until the husband gives me the "I wanna go home because I'm tired" nod. I played and then I got the nod, and while I had had several nods, this was a persistent nod which coincided with my bursting bladder, so he cashed in for me, while I raced to the nearest potty. I like dating my best friend. It reminds me why he *is* my best friend.
I reduced LM by running the dryer before we hit the sheets and the laundry facilities have been going full blast all day long. The really cool thing is that the house is clean to boot.
Definitely, a better semester at home.
Hey, welcome to the next 25 years of ruined underwear, horrible cramps, mood swings, and risk of pregnancy.
Whee! You're becoming a woman!
Enjoy your bleed. Have a nice day!
I've been working all day. Some of it is because one of my instructors' parents had a horrible car wreck. Her dad hasn't ever come out of the coma and neurosurgery has made no difference in his condition, which is just plain sad. I emailed a lot of people and it's just been a long afternoon around that and organizing a mess into something sensible for another prof. I still haven't started looking at the advisement manuals the Chair gave me.
Let's not even review the Laundry Mound (LM) that has started taking over the spare space in the garage and I think might have eaten some small rodents in its path. I will let you know if I find pellets in the dryer lint filter. We could reconstruct the skeletons and see what lives in my garage with LM and get a sense of what kind of rodentia preferences LM has. I wonder if LM will restrain children. Oh, the possibilities!
Last night, Mike and I had a date. We rented a video (Secondhand Lions), a pizza (BBQ chicken, red onions and sundried tomatoes) and watched it at my office at the uni. We really liked the video, so we'll probably buy the DVD for home. Afterwards, we went to a casino and I won $14 at the roulette table. I was up about $50 at one time, but if I'm playing on their money, I play until the husband gives me the "I wanna go home because I'm tired" nod. I played and then I got the nod, and while I had had several nods, this was a persistent nod which coincided with my bursting bladder, so he cashed in for me, while I raced to the nearest potty. I like dating my best friend. It reminds me why he *is* my best friend.
I reduced LM by running the dryer before we hit the sheets and the laundry facilities have been going full blast all day long. The really cool thing is that the house is clean to boot.
Definitely, a better semester at home.
Saturday, February 28, 2004
I'm just really tired.
I worked my ass off on this stupid powerpoint presentation for my families class. I put sound in, I timed it, I had timed slides, I edited pauses out of the sound and it comes out at 7:57 and I have an 8 minute maximum. I get to class excited. And then it wouldn't work. I got home, told Mike, and he says,"I told you about that packaging thing a few days ago."
"Um, no you didn't."
"I was sure I did."
"Um, NO, you didn't."
Nonetheless, it now works, but I presented two minutes over. Fucking technology. At least I have a portfolio piece now.
Microsoft bastards.
The same day, I had the second IEP meeting in which the principal tried to tell me that I couldn't bring people to the meeting. Fortunately, my advocate informed her that by federal law I could bring whoever I wanted. The principal's jaw snapped shut and that was that. (I mean, was she going to tell me I couldn't have the advocate there, for Pete's sake?)
The IEP as it's written blows donuts, so we'll be working on the specifics between now and the BIG IEP meeting in May to clean it up.
One thing I found disturbing is that on some of the achievement testing, Bear scored off the charts. If that's the case, then why with all the work he is putting in is he only pulling B's and C's? I guess that means he meets the criterion for discrepancy. Either that or his teacher meets the criterion for "crappy." I think there's discrepancy, however, it's still bothersome to me.
I did research on the "who can come to the IEP meeting" for my other class. We are comparing and contrasting the difference between the IEP and the 504. I get to do the families aspect, so I called people and found out who can, by law, come to the IEP meeting. So far, I've only found information on the State law, but I'll be looking up IDEA on a legal site to find out what the stuff is there. I've heard a couple of catch phrases bandied about, so I'll be looking for those.
I've been informed that I am a geek. I've read way too much science fiction, I know too much computer crap, and apparently, and most importantly, I bite the heads off chickens. (Okay, okay, not really. I pet my chickens and tell them they're pretty. I collect their eggs and I promise them a rooster some day.)
I personally think I qualify as a nerd. I think anyone who spends the kinds of hours I do working on homework to pull down that A qualifies as a nerd and Mike and Sarah are just jealous. Hah! I think Mike is more of the geek. I especially like the definition for geek of: " n. previously a 4 letter word, now a 6 figure salary."
As a grad student, in that context, I'm definitely a nerd.
Today, however, just call me "Goddess of the Laundry."
I worked my ass off on this stupid powerpoint presentation for my families class. I put sound in, I timed it, I had timed slides, I edited pauses out of the sound and it comes out at 7:57 and I have an 8 minute maximum. I get to class excited. And then it wouldn't work. I got home, told Mike, and he says,"I told you about that packaging thing a few days ago."
"Um, no you didn't."
"I was sure I did."
"Um, NO, you didn't."
Nonetheless, it now works, but I presented two minutes over. Fucking technology. At least I have a portfolio piece now.
Microsoft bastards.
The same day, I had the second IEP meeting in which the principal tried to tell me that I couldn't bring people to the meeting. Fortunately, my advocate informed her that by federal law I could bring whoever I wanted. The principal's jaw snapped shut and that was that. (I mean, was she going to tell me I couldn't have the advocate there, for Pete's sake?)
The IEP as it's written blows donuts, so we'll be working on the specifics between now and the BIG IEP meeting in May to clean it up.
One thing I found disturbing is that on some of the achievement testing, Bear scored off the charts. If that's the case, then why with all the work he is putting in is he only pulling B's and C's? I guess that means he meets the criterion for discrepancy. Either that or his teacher meets the criterion for "crappy." I think there's discrepancy, however, it's still bothersome to me.
I did research on the "who can come to the IEP meeting" for my other class. We are comparing and contrasting the difference between the IEP and the 504. I get to do the families aspect, so I called people and found out who can, by law, come to the IEP meeting. So far, I've only found information on the State law, but I'll be looking up IDEA on a legal site to find out what the stuff is there. I've heard a couple of catch phrases bandied about, so I'll be looking for those.
I've been informed that I am a geek. I've read way too much science fiction, I know too much computer crap, and apparently, and most importantly, I bite the heads off chickens. (Okay, okay, not really. I pet my chickens and tell them they're pretty. I collect their eggs and I promise them a rooster some day.)
I personally think I qualify as a nerd. I think anyone who spends the kinds of hours I do working on homework to pull down that A qualifies as a nerd and Mike and Sarah are just jealous. Hah! I think Mike is more of the geek. I especially like the definition for geek of: " n. previously a 4 letter word, now a 6 figure salary."
As a grad student, in that context, I'm definitely a nerd.
Today, however, just call me "Goddess of the Laundry."
Monday, February 16, 2004
Mike took me to the town he proposed to me for Valentine's day. We got a room and hung out.
We were both struck by the quiet. No children = a great deal of quiet
We watched Star Trek, uninterrupted. We ate uninterrupted. We shopped uninterrupted. We screwed uninterrupted. By far the most luxurious thing we did, however, was to go to a bookstore and browse for books. We browsed and bought and read together. And the drive to and from -- 3 hours each way, we got to talk with each other. We got to think out loud with each other. We discovered that we are still best friends.
I miss him so much. I know it's weird, but to sleep in the same house and have lunch together, doesn't always mean we get that much time together. Often, we're working so hard to keep the house going and the kids managed that our conversations are half-conscious stringings of words in the wee hours of the morning in that tween time of wakefulness and rapid eye movement, where conversations stop when one of us starts snoring.
I got to clarify a few things and thank him and he did some of the same.
It's not very romantic to go out on Valentine's day, but rather expected. However, this was one of the most romantic and serene times I've spent with Mike in a long time.
We were both struck by the quiet. No children = a great deal of quiet
We watched Star Trek, uninterrupted. We ate uninterrupted. We shopped uninterrupted. We screwed uninterrupted. By far the most luxurious thing we did, however, was to go to a bookstore and browse for books. We browsed and bought and read together. And the drive to and from -- 3 hours each way, we got to talk with each other. We got to think out loud with each other. We discovered that we are still best friends.
I miss him so much. I know it's weird, but to sleep in the same house and have lunch together, doesn't always mean we get that much time together. Often, we're working so hard to keep the house going and the kids managed that our conversations are half-conscious stringings of words in the wee hours of the morning in that tween time of wakefulness and rapid eye movement, where conversations stop when one of us starts snoring.
I got to clarify a few things and thank him and he did some of the same.
It's not very romantic to go out on Valentine's day, but rather expected. However, this was one of the most romantic and serene times I've spent with Mike in a long time.
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
I must be in grad school because I'm tired.
On the good news front, I am learning to organize my time and set boundaries.
One of the professors that I had last semester for literacy is pushing -- like being an overbearing conniving butt -- to get me to take on tutoring at a school that would be an hour away from home. Um, too damned far for $9/hour. I sent him the following snippet via email and bcc'ed my advisor to cover my copious butt.
Additionally, I love working with kids and obviously, I love teaching. However, I am not really able to add extra time (to tutor) to my schedule this semester beyond my GA-ship and specifically, I am only taking 2 classes because of that. My son is struggling, as I indicated, and his needs and the needs of my family come first. I may have time in the summer, as well as time next fall, but I am in the middle of a strenuous IEP process for my son to get him the supports he needs to be successful in school. I am also taking him to a pediatric neurologist because he is having symptoms that indicate that the medication he is taking may be having an adverse affect on him or may be bringing out some level of pre-existing condition such as Cerebral Palsy or Tourette's. Nonetheless, this is a stressful time for me and my family as we struggle to find what is best for my son; a lot of my time outside of work and school is being used to work with and for him.
He's still pushing. Nuisance.
What's worse is that I have been taking the ticket on that guilt train. I love to teach and I wish I was doing that rightthisminute, but if I don't get all this other stuff done, I'm going to end up stuffed in the nearest loony bin. I'll be the one drooling in the corner while I make my lips buzz and start and stop the buzz with my finger for the pure joy of listening to the temporary cessation of the raspberriness. I may even end up with my son in their writing program this summer. He needs as much help as he can get and they have a "writing camp" that I know he'd benefit from.
Of course, if I do that, I better find him a chess camp.
Oh, and MY WORD, martial arts are expensive. We went to this place in the big town (30 minutes away) and checked out this place we'd heard about. Russell seemed really interested, but wowsers, they wanted $99/month with a $200 deposit and a year contract. The money alone was daunting, but then the class times were a complete conflict with my school and family schedule and would have meant spending even more money for the whole family to eat out. If we lived in town, I might have considered it, but we don't. It'd be tons of time away from home -- driving, eating, etc. Mike and I discussed it late into the night and we both said,"Not right now." The problem is that I will be in school in the fall and I have to complete specific requirements to get my licensure and I don't have tons of control over some of those class times, but I still need to take them. I don't want to have to start and then stop this stupid thing if they are going to hold a $200 deposit over my head.
I can get swim lessons for $27/month. I could arrange to do it on my nights off from school and then while he swam, I could work out. Because the scheduling works out nearly perfectly, I am calling tomorrow to see about setting that up for the Bear.
Yep, I think we're doing that much cheaper thing.
On the good news front, I am learning to organize my time and set boundaries.
One of the professors that I had last semester for literacy is pushing -- like being an overbearing conniving butt -- to get me to take on tutoring at a school that would be an hour away from home. Um, too damned far for $9/hour. I sent him the following snippet via email and bcc'ed my advisor to cover my copious butt.
Additionally, I love working with kids and obviously, I love teaching. However, I am not really able to add extra time (to tutor) to my schedule this semester beyond my GA-ship and specifically, I am only taking 2 classes because of that. My son is struggling, as I indicated, and his needs and the needs of my family come first. I may have time in the summer, as well as time next fall, but I am in the middle of a strenuous IEP process for my son to get him the supports he needs to be successful in school. I am also taking him to a pediatric neurologist because he is having symptoms that indicate that the medication he is taking may be having an adverse affect on him or may be bringing out some level of pre-existing condition such as Cerebral Palsy or Tourette's. Nonetheless, this is a stressful time for me and my family as we struggle to find what is best for my son; a lot of my time outside of work and school is being used to work with and for him.
He's still pushing. Nuisance.
What's worse is that I have been taking the ticket on that guilt train. I love to teach and I wish I was doing that rightthisminute, but if I don't get all this other stuff done, I'm going to end up stuffed in the nearest loony bin. I'll be the one drooling in the corner while I make my lips buzz and start and stop the buzz with my finger for the pure joy of listening to the temporary cessation of the raspberriness. I may even end up with my son in their writing program this summer. He needs as much help as he can get and they have a "writing camp" that I know he'd benefit from.
Of course, if I do that, I better find him a chess camp.
Oh, and MY WORD, martial arts are expensive. We went to this place in the big town (30 minutes away) and checked out this place we'd heard about. Russell seemed really interested, but wowsers, they wanted $99/month with a $200 deposit and a year contract. The money alone was daunting, but then the class times were a complete conflict with my school and family schedule and would have meant spending even more money for the whole family to eat out. If we lived in town, I might have considered it, but we don't. It'd be tons of time away from home -- driving, eating, etc. Mike and I discussed it late into the night and we both said,"Not right now." The problem is that I will be in school in the fall and I have to complete specific requirements to get my licensure and I don't have tons of control over some of those class times, but I still need to take them. I don't want to have to start and then stop this stupid thing if they are going to hold a $200 deposit over my head.
I can get swim lessons for $27/month. I could arrange to do it on my nights off from school and then while he swam, I could work out. Because the scheduling works out nearly perfectly, I am calling tomorrow to see about setting that up for the Bear.
Yep, I think we're doing that much cheaper thing.
Thursday, February 05, 2004
I had the IEP meeting yesterday. There were 13 people there -- me, husband, a parent-to-parent advocate, two close friends, a district rep, the spec. ed teacher, the counselor, the reg. ed teacher, the principal, the clinical aide, the speech pathologist and the occupational therapist. Who says schools don't use intimidation to scare parents off?
However, in answer to that, my advocate said it was really good that I ran the meeting. The school district person had tried to run it, but I figure it is my kid and I called the meeting, so I had the right to run the agenda, which I had spent the past two weeks writing up, editing, and researching. I made copies of several strategy/methodology things for the regular ed teacher.
We agreed that he is going to be given less homework, and that his IEP needs a lot of work. They agreed to do all of the assessment testing I asked for -- even sensory integration. I was stunned.
Miracles really can happen.
However, in answer to that, my advocate said it was really good that I ran the meeting. The school district person had tried to run it, but I figure it is my kid and I called the meeting, so I had the right to run the agenda, which I had spent the past two weeks writing up, editing, and researching. I made copies of several strategy/methodology things for the regular ed teacher.
We agreed that he is going to be given less homework, and that his IEP needs a lot of work. They agreed to do all of the assessment testing I asked for -- even sensory integration. I was stunned.
Miracles really can happen.
Thursday, January 29, 2004
Well, after screaming and screaming on the phone at the school district office, suddenly, the school is bending over backwards to be particularly nice to me, including giving me the IEP meeting I requested in writing, rather than the stupid "interdisciplinary meeting" that the counselor was pushing for. No, we are rewriting his IEP goals and I'm not going to be nice. I'm going to be demanding and you WILL comply.
I've got a call in for an appointment with the principal to let her know how much this particular teacher sucks rocks. I also am going to let her know how this man violated FERPA and left the school open to a law suit. I'm going to let her know how ignorant he's been regarding my son's disability and just how completely angry, frustrated, and irate I am.
On Wednesday, I've got friends, classmates and an advocate from a local parent-to-parent group coming to Russell's IEP meeting. Russell is going to sit this one out. He asked me,"Oh, because you're going to kick some ass, Mom?" Somewhat abashed I said,"Yes. I believe it's called a bloodbath, Russell."
"What's a bloodbath, Mom?"
"It's where there's lots of blood, guts, and violence. "
"Are you going to yell a lot?"
"No, but they are NOT going to like me, I'm pretty sure."
I also want him to sit it out because a lot of it does not concern him, but rather his teachers and their techniques, or rather, lack of technique. I reviewed the goals with him. I will be reviewing them with the advocate and then, after we have rewritten the IEP, I will NOT sign it until after I have taken it home and reviewed it and had my Special Ed advisor review it as well as the LEGAL advocacy person I've been talking to.
I have promised Russell that he will come in for the next meeting and he was ok with that.
I feel like the Power Rangers:"It's morphin' time!"
Hi, my name is Redneck Ruby, and my shitkickers are shined and pointy for all the ass they are about to kick.
I've got a call in for an appointment with the principal to let her know how much this particular teacher sucks rocks. I also am going to let her know how this man violated FERPA and left the school open to a law suit. I'm going to let her know how ignorant he's been regarding my son's disability and just how completely angry, frustrated, and irate I am.
On Wednesday, I've got friends, classmates and an advocate from a local parent-to-parent group coming to Russell's IEP meeting. Russell is going to sit this one out. He asked me,"Oh, because you're going to kick some ass, Mom?" Somewhat abashed I said,"Yes. I believe it's called a bloodbath, Russell."
"What's a bloodbath, Mom?"
"It's where there's lots of blood, guts, and violence. "
"Are you going to yell a lot?"
"No, but they are NOT going to like me, I'm pretty sure."
I also want him to sit it out because a lot of it does not concern him, but rather his teachers and their techniques, or rather, lack of technique. I reviewed the goals with him. I will be reviewing them with the advocate and then, after we have rewritten the IEP, I will NOT sign it until after I have taken it home and reviewed it and had my Special Ed advisor review it as well as the LEGAL advocacy person I've been talking to.
I have promised Russell that he will come in for the next meeting and he was ok with that.
I feel like the Power Rangers:"It's morphin' time!"
Hi, my name is Redneck Ruby, and my shitkickers are shined and pointy for all the ass they are about to kick.
Monday, January 26, 2004
January 26, 2004
Dear Russell's Unsympathetic Pain in the Ass Teacher,
Russell is on doses of medication far beyond pharmaceutical recommendations, so per his doctor's instructions, we were trying a new medication with him last week. Two days last week, you saw him on that medication and obviously, it is not going to work for school. We had tried the new medication out with good success over the holiday weekend, but he does not require the same level of focus at home that he does at school and he actually seemed okay here, even for things like cleaning and organizing his room, which is usually a pretty difficult task for him.
Russell said that he informed you that he was trying a new medication, thus, we are somewhat surprised by your claim that he was missing medications three days last week. We had also communicated to the clinical aide that you should be informed that he was trying new medication. Apparently, you did not get that message.
On Friday, we had been scrambling to change him back to his original medication based on the feedback we got through Russell that you had asked if he had taken his medication because he was fidgety, when he was on the new medication. Mike and I miscommunicated, thus, he did not get his afternoon dose of medication for which we both apologize.
We realize his behavior can be frustrating, when his medication is not working, especially because he has only been diagnosed with ADHD for the past two years. Unfortunately, however, he is experiencing some adverse side effects from the extremely high doses of medications that he is on. Due to his medication levels, he has only gained about 5 lbs in the past two years, and has only gotten 3/4" taller, which are huge steps downward in his growth rate. Per his psychiatrist's suggestion that he might have Tourette's Syndrome or Cerebral Palsy that is amplified by the stimulant medications he takes, we have scheduled an appointment with a pediatric neurologist at the beginning of March. We have also changed his weekend medication to the medication that was not working for him in class last week, so that he has some break from the very high medication levels, as we are willing to contend with some of the wall climbing in exchange for the pharmaceutical reprieve that his body gets.
High doses of stimulant medication can cause permanent brain damage and we are working very hard to attempt to get him on a medication regimen that will get him to less dangerously high medication levels and still let him be functional in both his academic and home settings. Russell is very much between a rock and a hard place pharmaceutically and we are trying to find a system that will work without overtaxing his system, and yet, give him as close to a normal kid's existence as possible.
There may come a time during this semester that the medication he is on stops working and we'll be back at this place again, experimenting with a new medication and attempting to get the dosing metered correctly. We do as much of this over breaks and weekends as possible, however, we would appreciate your feedback, both positive and negative during those times.
We appreciate your patience. Please feel free to call us at home at xxx-xxxx, if you would like to discuss this further.
Sincerely,
Michael and Wendy Schreiber
cc: The Principal
Dear Russell's Unsympathetic Pain in the Ass Teacher,
Russell is on doses of medication far beyond pharmaceutical recommendations, so per his doctor's instructions, we were trying a new medication with him last week. Two days last week, you saw him on that medication and obviously, it is not going to work for school. We had tried the new medication out with good success over the holiday weekend, but he does not require the same level of focus at home that he does at school and he actually seemed okay here, even for things like cleaning and organizing his room, which is usually a pretty difficult task for him.
Russell said that he informed you that he was trying a new medication, thus, we are somewhat surprised by your claim that he was missing medications three days last week. We had also communicated to the clinical aide that you should be informed that he was trying new medication. Apparently, you did not get that message.
On Friday, we had been scrambling to change him back to his original medication based on the feedback we got through Russell that you had asked if he had taken his medication because he was fidgety, when he was on the new medication. Mike and I miscommunicated, thus, he did not get his afternoon dose of medication for which we both apologize.
We realize his behavior can be frustrating, when his medication is not working, especially because he has only been diagnosed with ADHD for the past two years. Unfortunately, however, he is experiencing some adverse side effects from the extremely high doses of medications that he is on. Due to his medication levels, he has only gained about 5 lbs in the past two years, and has only gotten 3/4" taller, which are huge steps downward in his growth rate. Per his psychiatrist's suggestion that he might have Tourette's Syndrome or Cerebral Palsy that is amplified by the stimulant medications he takes, we have scheduled an appointment with a pediatric neurologist at the beginning of March. We have also changed his weekend medication to the medication that was not working for him in class last week, so that he has some break from the very high medication levels, as we are willing to contend with some of the wall climbing in exchange for the pharmaceutical reprieve that his body gets.
High doses of stimulant medication can cause permanent brain damage and we are working very hard to attempt to get him on a medication regimen that will get him to less dangerously high medication levels and still let him be functional in both his academic and home settings. Russell is very much between a rock and a hard place pharmaceutically and we are trying to find a system that will work without overtaxing his system, and yet, give him as close to a normal kid's existence as possible.
There may come a time during this semester that the medication he is on stops working and we'll be back at this place again, experimenting with a new medication and attempting to get the dosing metered correctly. We do as much of this over breaks and weekends as possible, however, we would appreciate your feedback, both positive and negative during those times.
We appreciate your patience. Please feel free to call us at home at xxx-xxxx, if you would like to discuss this further.
Sincerely,
Michael and Wendy Schreiber
cc: The Principal
Thursday, January 22, 2004
I am on a baby blanket sewing binge. Everyone I know is having a baby, while butt poor. I am a complete sucker, I realize. My friend, LaDawn, said I should start selling these on Ebay at $20 a pop. I think that's steep myself, but probably would be the only way I'd make any money off them.
I made cuddle blankets for both kids, a baby blanket for everyone who's asked for them and I've got 3 more cuddle blankets in the wings.
I also started class this week, so I'll probably get back to the rest of them in May.
Heh.
A number of my friends want me to get the gastric bypass surgery and get it quick. I'm just praying on it. I go to the gym tomorrow.
I made cuddle blankets for both kids, a baby blanket for everyone who's asked for them and I've got 3 more cuddle blankets in the wings.
I also started class this week, so I'll probably get back to the rest of them in May.
Heh.
A number of my friends want me to get the gastric bypass surgery and get it quick. I'm just praying on it. I go to the gym tomorrow.
I had my first class tonight. It's the "families" class -- a required licensure class that anyone in special ed has to take.
I know I shouldn't be surprised, but I still can't get past just how many people are stupid enough to say "parents don't care." My immediate response is:"Don't generalize because *I* do."
Then the bile begins to rise and I basically drive home while ranting at the windshield about all the things I'd like to tell teachers and future teachers who say that kind of stuff.
Things like:
Do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to get a child eligible for special education services?
Do you have any idea how much background knowledge is often omitted from the conversation teachers have with parents?
Do you have any idea how thrilled I was that I got a degree with a teaching emphasis, which meant when I walked into an IEP meeting the "professionals" could not jargon me into the ground? (Take a guess how unsettled they were!)
Do you know how damned angry I get about being categorized as "uncaring" when it comes to my kids?
Do you have any idea how much time, money, effort, and doctor visits I expend energy and resources on, in addition to your homework assignments (often just stupid time-consuming worksheets with little educational value)?
Walk a mile it these size 12's and you'll have the same sore feet, broken heart, and disgruntled adversarial attitude I have about teachers and educational professionals who think it's all my fault that my son has severe ADHD and the problems associated with that. I'm sick to death of educational professionals telling me all the things I'm doing wrong with my kid, including his teacher who vaguely says that my son "needs to learn responsibility." He does his homework sometimes for hours a night, often struggling with the logistical inconvenience of typing all of his assignments, even labeling graphics for those stupid science projects that you just pull from a boring science workbook. (Dude, you live next to a wildlife reserve, how about discussing the biosystem in a community context!)
I'm sick of the gay teacher who has obvious disdain for women. Dude, I was in the Queen's court throughout college. Don't go there, sister. Don't try out your good ole southern boys' club on me and expect I won't kick your ass for it. I wouldn't put up with that shit from a straight man and I sure as hell am not putting up with that nonsense from you either.
Nonetheless, tonight, I remembered as I threatened to crack my windshield as I railed away why I am getting a master's in special education; it's so I can save the world one kid at a time.
____
And on an entirely separate note....
What is the deal with Atkin's? I long ago gave up on diets because diets do not address the underlying issue of making a fundamental life change. However, Atkin's is everywhere.
It seems like Atkins is free license to eat foods high in fat, especially, saturated fat, which Atkins refers to as "natural." The idea is that if you deprive your body of the carbohydrates it needs that it will turn to burning fat in lieu of carbs. Um, yeah, right, whatEver. You know, I feel the need to eat a big fat sausage drizzled in butter and served with a side dish of avocados dipped in mayonaise, so my body will burn fat.
Yeah, that's the ticket!
If a person deprives their body of foods it needs, they will simpy be setting themselves up for the kiss of failure.
Then they can then feel bad about themselves and console themselves over a carton of Ben & Jerry's. That way they get all their fat, dairy products (calcium), AND carbohydrates in one giant pity party.
High-fat foods do things like clog arteries and do not easily convert to sugar. Exercise burns fat. Fat ingested, basically becomes fat on one's ass. Period.
If I eat a diet low in saturated fats, exercise regularly, and eat a lot of vegetables and complex carbohydrates, oddly enough the pounds just fall off my ass. Because simple sugars are compact, it's easy to eat too many of them and the body sees all that sugar coming down the pike and simply stores the extra as saddlebags on one's buttochs.
The current Atkin's advocacy that is being perpetuated by Subway and other chains seems like it might be a diabetic's dream, however, it's not. I'm not only trying to figure out how to avoid all that fat, but I'm trying to figure out how to get enough carbs without having to resort to eating things that are poor choices like chips and simple sugars or becoming hypoglycemic.
Saturated fats play kissy face with extra sugar in a diabetic's system and make tri-glycerides, which is why diabetes is so closely linked to heart disease.
I swear if I have one more stupid person suggest I eat Atkin's I'm going to slather them in lard and stuff a pork sausage or 10 up their nose.
I don't eat perfectly, but what I eat, keeps my sugars and cholesterol levels normal. I have started exercising again, which means the whole thing is coming together again and I'm going to keep at it, until my doctor says I'm at a good weight or until I've failed so utterly at it, that I have no choice but to consider gastric bypass surgery to extend my life.
Atkins was a stupid fad diet in the 70's determined by many health professionals to be a poor health choice then. Nothing has changed much since then, except that Americans are getting fatter. A high fat diet isn't going to help that trend, in my opinion.
When I eat a lot of veggies and complex carbs and keep the fat low and the protein moderate and I'm well. I don't eat white rice, pasta, or breads -- whole grains all the way, baby. Any diet that advocates red meats is suspect. Much like my mother who has high cholesterol, but insists that she only buys lean cuts of beef, Atkins seems like fodder for that river in egypt: Denial.
If I'm going to live in denial, I'm going to tell myself things like "well, it may have some carbs, but damnit, it's got a low glycemic index."
I keep thinking of Eule Gibbons. He ate super healthy food and then died young of a heart attack.
I plan to eat the best I can and actually live my life. Depriving myself of everything I enjoy is a rotten way to live. Making small changes like ground turkey in lieu of hamburger and whole grains instead of enriched ones just seems to be a better choice for me.
I know I shouldn't be surprised, but I still can't get past just how many people are stupid enough to say "parents don't care." My immediate response is:"Don't generalize because *I* do."
Then the bile begins to rise and I basically drive home while ranting at the windshield about all the things I'd like to tell teachers and future teachers who say that kind of stuff.
Things like:
Do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to get a child eligible for special education services?
Do you have any idea how much background knowledge is often omitted from the conversation teachers have with parents?
Do you have any idea how thrilled I was that I got a degree with a teaching emphasis, which meant when I walked into an IEP meeting the "professionals" could not jargon me into the ground? (Take a guess how unsettled they were!)
Do you know how damned angry I get about being categorized as "uncaring" when it comes to my kids?
Do you have any idea how much time, money, effort, and doctor visits I expend energy and resources on, in addition to your homework assignments (often just stupid time-consuming worksheets with little educational value)?
Walk a mile it these size 12's and you'll have the same sore feet, broken heart, and disgruntled adversarial attitude I have about teachers and educational professionals who think it's all my fault that my son has severe ADHD and the problems associated with that. I'm sick to death of educational professionals telling me all the things I'm doing wrong with my kid, including his teacher who vaguely says that my son "needs to learn responsibility." He does his homework sometimes for hours a night, often struggling with the logistical inconvenience of typing all of his assignments, even labeling graphics for those stupid science projects that you just pull from a boring science workbook. (Dude, you live next to a wildlife reserve, how about discussing the biosystem in a community context!)
I'm sick of the gay teacher who has obvious disdain for women. Dude, I was in the Queen's court throughout college. Don't go there, sister. Don't try out your good ole southern boys' club on me and expect I won't kick your ass for it. I wouldn't put up with that shit from a straight man and I sure as hell am not putting up with that nonsense from you either.
Nonetheless, tonight, I remembered as I threatened to crack my windshield as I railed away why I am getting a master's in special education; it's so I can save the world one kid at a time.
____
And on an entirely separate note....
What is the deal with Atkin's? I long ago gave up on diets because diets do not address the underlying issue of making a fundamental life change. However, Atkin's is everywhere.
It seems like Atkins is free license to eat foods high in fat, especially, saturated fat, which Atkins refers to as "natural." The idea is that if you deprive your body of the carbohydrates it needs that it will turn to burning fat in lieu of carbs. Um, yeah, right, whatEver. You know, I feel the need to eat a big fat sausage drizzled in butter and served with a side dish of avocados dipped in mayonaise, so my body will burn fat.
Yeah, that's the ticket!
If a person deprives their body of foods it needs, they will simpy be setting themselves up for the kiss of failure.
Then they can then feel bad about themselves and console themselves over a carton of Ben & Jerry's. That way they get all their fat, dairy products (calcium), AND carbohydrates in one giant pity party.
High-fat foods do things like clog arteries and do not easily convert to sugar. Exercise burns fat. Fat ingested, basically becomes fat on one's ass. Period.
If I eat a diet low in saturated fats, exercise regularly, and eat a lot of vegetables and complex carbohydrates, oddly enough the pounds just fall off my ass. Because simple sugars are compact, it's easy to eat too many of them and the body sees all that sugar coming down the pike and simply stores the extra as saddlebags on one's buttochs.
The current Atkin's advocacy that is being perpetuated by Subway and other chains seems like it might be a diabetic's dream, however, it's not. I'm not only trying to figure out how to avoid all that fat, but I'm trying to figure out how to get enough carbs without having to resort to eating things that are poor choices like chips and simple sugars or becoming hypoglycemic.
Saturated fats play kissy face with extra sugar in a diabetic's system and make tri-glycerides, which is why diabetes is so closely linked to heart disease.
I swear if I have one more stupid person suggest I eat Atkin's I'm going to slather them in lard and stuff a pork sausage or 10 up their nose.
I don't eat perfectly, but what I eat, keeps my sugars and cholesterol levels normal. I have started exercising again, which means the whole thing is coming together again and I'm going to keep at it, until my doctor says I'm at a good weight or until I've failed so utterly at it, that I have no choice but to consider gastric bypass surgery to extend my life.
Atkins was a stupid fad diet in the 70's determined by many health professionals to be a poor health choice then. Nothing has changed much since then, except that Americans are getting fatter. A high fat diet isn't going to help that trend, in my opinion.
When I eat a lot of veggies and complex carbs and keep the fat low and the protein moderate and I'm well. I don't eat white rice, pasta, or breads -- whole grains all the way, baby. Any diet that advocates red meats is suspect. Much like my mother who has high cholesterol, but insists that she only buys lean cuts of beef, Atkins seems like fodder for that river in egypt: Denial.
If I'm going to live in denial, I'm going to tell myself things like "well, it may have some carbs, but damnit, it's got a low glycemic index."
I keep thinking of Eule Gibbons. He ate super healthy food and then died young of a heart attack.
I plan to eat the best I can and actually live my life. Depriving myself of everything I enjoy is a rotten way to live. Making small changes like ground turkey in lieu of hamburger and whole grains instead of enriched ones just seems to be a better choice for me.
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