New Years Through the Decade

My New Years Eves have been a mixed bag in the past 10 years.  Some good, some okay, some just weird. For your enjoyment, I now present my New Years Eves of the Decade.

Ringing in 2000 --  I was a sophomore in college. I believe I spent the New Years on my couch in anticipation of returning to school a few days later (and to other things, which will be revealed in a later post).  I don't actually remember doing anything.....

2001 -- I spent the New Year with my two best girls and my boyfriend at the time, a budding rapper (yeah, big mistake).  I had lost 40-50 lbs., I was wearing a leather skirt, and we went to a club downtown.  My girl danced in a cage, I was able to stay in my skirt, and really REALLY embarrassing pictures were taken.

Like this one. (Im the one in the ridiculously shiny top).

2002 -- My boyfriend, A., came home with me from Chicago to spend the holiday at my house.  His first time on a plane.  Also the first time that Richmond saw snow of such magnitude, a whole 8"!  For those that don't understand, Richmond shuts down if there is even a dusting of snow.  They just can't handle it.  So the city was dead at 8".  A., a lifelong Chicago resident, couldn't understand why we couldn't go to the museum like we had planned.  I believe we did go out to dinner at 5pm, because it was the only reservation we could get.

2003 -- My first year with the hubs.  I believe we also went to dinner at 5pm because we couldn't get a reservation.  We went with my mom.  It was way sexy.  Then I went home with my mom and he went to his house. Yeah, there are definite benefits to living with your mom.  And there are definite downsides :-)  (love ya mom)

2004 -- Second year with the hubs. I believe we watched the ball drop in our living room.  On sofas that he got out of the dumpster when he was in college.  I think we went to Walmart at 11pm and got sparkling wine in a box.  Wow.  As I type that out, I realize just how white trash that sounds.

2005 -- Third year with the hubs.  Not really sure what we did.  I think it involved food and alcohol and no friends.  Maybe cats, we had a ton of cats.

2006 --  First year in the 'Burgh.  Again, don't think we did anything much.  I think our house was probably freezing, so I think we all huddled under blankets.  And wore wool socks. 

2007 -- Second year in the 'Burgh.  I want to say that we did something fun, but honestly I don't remember.  It may or may not have involved fish sandwiches at Grandma Dolly's house.

2008 -- Our first holiday season in Jordan. After suffering from the worst post-Christmas stomach flu, I finally made it out of my house to spend a quick few minutes at a friend's New Years Eve party. It was the first time I had left my couch in 4 days, the first time I had attempted solid food, and the first person to hit on my was my husband's elderly boss, a close talker whose breath smelled heavily of rotten meat. I almost got sick all over his shoes. Fortunately for Hubs' job, I didn't.

2009 -- We spent the holiday at our good friends' apartment, which had a wide expansive balcony where we were hoping to witness a decent fireworks display over the city.  I mean, really, with all the fireworks going off in Amman, we figure we would see some.  I don't think we saw any. But the party was great fun, we learned how to make new cocktails, we ate lots of good food, and I think I won over the new ambassador's daughter by making bacon-covered horseradish deviled eggs.  She took home 2 trays.

2010 -- I'm going to bed as soon as the baby lets me.  While I am glad 2010 is here, I really don't want to be awake when it arrives.  Happy New Year!!

Year in Review: Potato Edition

Our lives really changed in 2009.  We spent the first 2 months moving forward and the remaining 10 months trying to stay in the present. We lived in 3 different countries. We were patients of 4 different hospitals.

I had promised my girlfriends that I wouldn't be that mom that constantly talked about her kids.  And then I became the mom that couldn't stop talking....to anyone....about anything child related. I can't even be around adults without seeming sad that I can no longer hold an adult conversation.

Our lives have changed, for the better and the different (not necessarily worse). Here are the ways our lives have changed (or, otherwise aptly-titled, We Know We Have a Special Needs Child When):

• We compare hospital pediatric wards instead of grocery stores.
• We compare our child's oxygen saturations to those of other children.
• We consider toys to be "therapy."
• We teach our child HOW to pull things out of the cupboard, off the bookcases, and that feeding the dog from the table is, indeed, fun.
• We feel the need to explain why he still weighs the same as a newborn a good 10 months after birth.
• We cheer instead of scold when they blow bubbles in their juice while sitting at the dinner table (that's speech therapy), smear ketchup all over their high chair (that's OT), or throw their toys (that's PT).
• We have almost fired at least 3specialists, 1 pediatrician and can teach your family doctor a thing or two.
• We have been told we are "wrong" by at least 3 medical or therapy professionals. This makes us laugh!
• We have that incredible sinking feeling that we've forgotten SOMETHING on those few days that we don't have some sort of appointment somewhere!
• Our new vocabulary consists of all the letters OT, PT, SP, ASD, VSD, IFSP, BPD, CLD, GI, etc.
• We keep our appointment with the specialist even though a tropical storm is raging because we just want to get this one over with.....we waited 8 months to get it.....and besides, no one else will be there!
• When potty training is complete (in 6 years?), we will take out a full-page public notice in the Washington Post.
• The Doctors/Specialist/Hospitals all know us by name without referring to our chart.
• We keep a daily growth and weight chart.
• We calculate daily and monthly statistics for the number of times Potato vomits.
• We will phone all our friends when Potato sits up for the first time, at age two.
• With a big smile on our face, we will tell a stranger that our four year old just started walking last week.
• His medical file is in a two-inch binder and growing.

Here is how our lives have been bettered:

• We take nothing for granted.
• We take everything one (sometimes two) days at a time.
• We have an excuse to go the front of the line on free vaccine clinic days.
• We have learned (or attempted to learn) patience
• We know that life is sacred

Here's to 2010, a year with much better possibilities!

Happy Holidays!

Have a Merry Christmas

or

I'll bite your hand off

Traditions Rather Than Gifts

I don't remember Christmas gifts I've received.

I'm sorry to all those who have given me things that they hoped I would never forget.  But I have.

I don't remember that Aunt Fill-in-the-Blank gave me a book in 1988 that changed my life, or that Cousin So-and-So gifted me a beautiful necklace in 2000.  Usually, gifts play second fiddle to the tradition, in my mind.

For instance, I remember, as if it was yesterday, the tradition we had for opening Hanukkah presents.  We always used to eat dinner, light the menorah, and then run like gangbusters into the living room.  This was back in the early eighties, when I was young enough to think nightgowns with frilly necklines were to die for, and my mom would put all of our eight little presents into a gigantic cardboard box, where my sister and I would have to dive headfirst into the box to find the present with the corresponding night's number on it's gift tag.

We have video of one Hanukkah night when my sister, dressed in a red velvet number with lace collar, is exclaiming in great detail how beautiful that night's pajamas were.  After opening the box, she proceeds to model the pajamas, dance around in them as if they were a ball gown, and if I am not mistaken, she may have faked tears.  She was, with out a doubt, the best actress I ever knew.

Or, there is the tradition of always receiving Avon lip protectant and a Whack-and-Unwrap orange in our Christmas stockings.  I remember the year that my grandma finally gave up on the whole "Santa brings your stocking" charade and made my sister, my dad and I all go shopping for the stocking stuffers.  My sister and I were appalled that we might have a Christmas without Avon products in our stockings.  But we made sure that each grandchild did have a Whack-and-Unwrap orange.  Even this year, when we had to bow out of our family celebration for medical reasons, my grandmother sent us chocolate oranges in a nice UPS box.

Or there is the Christmas tradition of having all of my dad's extended family cram into the small back room of his childhood home.  We practically sit on top of each other feasting on ham, potato salad, nut rolls and boob cookies (you know, the ones with the hershey kiss in the center).  Or the Hanukkah tradition of having my sister slave over the most mouthwatering potato latkes this side of Israel and then enjoying them with cousins, aunts and uncles.

Traditions can live forever in the people that cherish them.  Gifts can break, get lost, become unappreciated.  But traditions can be modified, loved, adopted, and appreciation can grow over a lifetime.  Gifts can be forgotten, but traditions will live on if you let them.  And each memory of one is a gift in its own special way.

Even now, as I think of traditions that I might want for my new little family as it gets off its feet, I am drawn to the idea of 8 presents in a cardboard box and chocolate oranges in the stocking.  These will really show Potato what a real gift is.

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This is part of the (W)rite of Passage writing challenge, The Gift.   Here are others that have joined in.

Snowpacolypse 2009: Photo Sunday

 

 

 

 

 

Odor Warning System

Have you ever noticed that the smell of something coming out smells eerily similar to the smell of it having been leftover for 1 day or more in the refrigerator?  I know this might not be a comfortable topic for blogging or perhaps it is a horrible TMI, but bear with me.  I have a point.

I think I inherited my Dad's keen nose for bad smells.  We always used to joke that he could smell cat pee a mile away.  He thought everything smelled like cat pee.  To that end, I always seem to be walking into rooms of our house saying, "Does it smell like _____ (dog, cat, elephant, baby poop, potato chips)?"

Lately, I have also been trying to use up the remainders of our fruitful fall farm share.  For Hubs' birthday, I made a good old corned beef and cabbage.  The other day, I tried my hand at a turnip gratin, although, using mostly radishes.  They were both amazing, even the turnip gratin.  Cheesy, creamy, and definitely did not taste or smell like raw, red radishes (and turnips).

The day after both of these were both residing in the refrigerator together, the odor from the smell was indescribable.  Well no, wait, it was like.......well, like two animals got together in our fridge, farted, then died, then rotted, then were left for 4 days in a refrigerator.  Our refrigerator.

It got to the point where I couldn't even open the refrigerator without holding my nose.  I just had to get those things out of our fridge.  So I ate them.  They were still yummy.....

.....but then, what goes in must come out, right? Well, that night, after feasting on leftovers, Hubs and I were stricken with incredibly smelly "emissions."  But the smell was familiar.  It was exactly the smell of the leftovers in the fridge!  See, the food had its own odor warning system......it was screaming, Don't Eat Me!  Just think of the smell!  I will give you a preview!!!!

Sometimes I wish that I could invent an odor warning system.  Something that would warn me if what I (or anyone else for that matter) ingest would potentially cause odor problems.  How great would subway rides be if your neighbors were wearning signs that told you how smelly or potentially smelly their breakfast/lunch/dinner had been that day?  An odor warning system would help you to choose a seat next to the person that had eaten yogurt and a banana, instead of the person that had eaten 2-day chili.

I would definitely put one on Potato.  He is on this new highly broken down formula that doesn't smell so bad when mixed.  But when regurgitated it smells like that fart-like smell you get when you open a brand new bag of Lays potato chips.  But grosser.  I can hardly stand to be around him after he has spit up (which he does with force and very frequently). I have to put his burp cloths in plastic bags and dispose of them in medical waste containers with plastic tongs.  And you think I jest.

I think I would make millions.

9 1/2 Months

Potato is 9 1/2 months.

Here is how he stacks up:

-- Has his first tooth!!!! Well, not fully yet, but it is cutting through.

-- Weighs 12 lbs. 7 oz.

-- Wears 3-6 month clothes.

-- Can make "ba-ba" type sounds and is beginning to make spitting sounds with his mouth.

-- Has tried and eaten sweet potatoes and butternut squash.  Seems to like/tolerate both.

-- Can sit assisted and in his high chair.  Still falls over if unassisted.

-- Still does not like tummy time, but will hold his head up if he has to!

-- No longer requires oxygen during the day!  No tubes on his face!

He's plugging along!

Tater Tidbits

Here are some tidbits of happenings from this week:

Potato got released from the hospital finally and is doing great.  He is still vomiting which really annoys us. And for the first time in a few weeks, Potato started requiring high levels of oxygen during the day.  Hubs was so upset that when he went out to pick up Traveling Dog from the groomer, he stopped by the cheesesteak place and got 2 cheesesteaks just for himself!  He said he was drowning his sorrows in meat.

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Potato got to visit with his former neonatologist on Friday.  Dr. Benny, the head of neonatology at Hadassah, was in from Jerusalem for a conference in DC and we got to have lunch with him.  He was SO excited to see Potato.  Imagine, having only remembered a baby when he was 1 lb. and then seeing him in real clothes, smiling and laughing, and 12 whole pounds!!!! We of course talked about all of his medical issues/diagnoses, but also got to talk about fun stuff too.

It was really fun to see Dr. Benny and Potato interact, especially since Dr. Benny is this big powerful man and Potato is so tiny.  To see them cooing at each other just warmed the heart.

The best part was that Dr. Benny was talking to him in Hebrew a bunch and Potato was smiling up a storm. Most of what Dr. Benny said was "Sweet baby" and little sayings like that.  But then when we were at lunch, he said something in Hebrew and then said, "Do you remember that?"  Of course, Potato smiled REALLY big at him.  So we asked Dr. Benny what it meant and he said, "Oh, I said, 'It's time to change the IV.'"

Of course Potato would remember that!!!!

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I start working on Monday. I am excited to be able to get out of the house, but I am also excited for Hubs to have to take care of the baby all day.  I think he will really begin to see why I am so tired at the end of a day when he isn't home.  And he will have to take care of the baby and do the cleaning and cooking.  HA!  I am so excited for the first time he whines and I get to tell him "AHA, told you so."

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I think that's all the tater tidbits for now.  Sorry there isn't a Photo Sunday, but we just haven't gotten our act together to get any good pictures taken.  Maybe I will be able to post some soon.

My 5 Things

So, I was tagged by Kristin to do the 5 Things, so here goes....

5 Things

5 things I was doing 10 years ago:

1 -- A sophomore at Northwestern University
2 -- Taking finals probably
3 -- Ready to get out of Chicago's winter
4 -- Diagnosed with high blood pressure
5 -- In love with a silly, silly boy
5 things on my to-do list for today:

1 -- House cleaning & organizing
2 -- Bake sweet potato pie to get sweet potato out of the fridge
3 -- Make Hubs corned beef and cabbage for his birthday
4 -- See Potato's nutritionist
5 -- Get ready to start working next week
5 snacks I love:

1 -- pretzels
2 -- rice cracker mix
3 -- watermelon
4 -- smoothies
5 -- lima beans
5 things I would do if I were a millionaire:

1 -- pay off everything
2 -- buy a piece of land to make a farm
3 -- adopt a bunch of kids
4 -- invest in something that means something to me (not really sure what that is yet)
5 -- take a vacation
5 jobs I’ve had:
1 -- Greeter at Friendly's
2 -- Science Educator Helper at the SMVA
3 -- Certified Closet Planner
4 -- Director of Marketing for an opera company
5 -- Secretary extraordinaire

Medicalese

When Potato was in the hospital, he had a modified barium swallow study, so that they could track him swallowing fluid to check for aspiration, etc.

The modified barium swallow study entailed Hubs feeding him a bottle of radioactive fluid.

But first, they asked Hubs to try and feed Potato some radioactive fluid with a spoon.  And for anyone who knows Potato, you know that him and spoons don't really understand each other. 

So, Hubs fed Potato some radioactive fluid on a spoon and Potato simply let it rest upon his lip, without any real comprehension of what it was supposed to do or why there was this strange goo on his mouth. 

But, here is what was written by the radiologists, describing what happened:

With puree solids, Aidan accepted the spoon in his mouth though bolus size was small. Bolus formation was piecemeal and transit required multiple attempts.

Medicalese, it's a funny language, no?

Coping, Being Home, Being Parents

Well, we are finally home.  Our little Potato (his new name) couldn't be happier.  He spoke volumes to all of his toys when we put him back in his newly steam-cleaned room.  Ah, the sounds of a happy baby.

This past week, I have been too close to the sounds of unhappy babies.  And it wasn't even my own.  No, Potato got stomach surgery and within hours of waking up from anesthesia was already smiling at the nurses and doctors that came to poke and prod his tender tummy.

No, it was the sound of many of Potato's neighbors.  Neighbors whose parents were not around.  Ever.

I'm not here to judge.  I know that parents work.  That parents need time off from parenting.  That parents need ways to cope with the stress of a hospitalization.

But in my opinion, when your child is in the hospital for something that will cause a lifestyle change (such as a new way of feeding, for example),  I would expect that you would want to be there.  To learn how to take care of your child properly.  To comfort that child when the child was upset or lonely or scared.

I would NOT, however, act like that parents of Aidan's second roommate, a 2-month old baby with a feeding issue.  The minute the parents entered the room, it was F-ing this and "Shit Man" and language I can't even fathom using in a children's hospital.  And 30 minutes after arriving, they disappeared for 2 days.

For 2 days, I listened to that baby cry morning, noon and night.  And no one was there to comfort it.  Even the nurses couldn't be there every time the baby needed its MOTHER.

One night, the Hubs and I took a cooking class for his birthday and spent the night away from the hospital.  And I was wracked with guilt.  Because I wasn't sure how my baby, who doesn't understand what is happening, would deal with our absence.  And he didn't deal as well as we had hoped.

But either Hubs or I was there every night to put him to sleep and to wake up with him every morning.  Because that is what a parent does.  A parent is there for their child when the times are tough.  They don't think about themselves or their needs and for a majority of the time they focus solely on what their child needs to be okay.  I know that every once in awhile, a parent needs time to rest for themselves, but really, more than an afternoon or evening away seems excessive.

I didn't blog or take pictures during Potato's hospitalization.  I am not crazy and taking disgusting (in my opinion) pictures of my child.

I used Caring Bridge when Potato was in the NICU to help me cope with my emotions but also to keep the family and friends updated.  There is something to be said for writing to cope.  But, the minute it turns into exploitation of the child and the child's condition for money or other favors, it becomes disgusting in my mind.

It is just as disgusting as the parents who left their child in the hospital for a week with no family support.  Parents that take away from caring for your child when the child needs you the most are in my opinion incredibly selfish and don't deserve to have children in the first place.   If you aren't going to take care of your children properly, to care for them and protect them from things that are scary, then you shouldn't be allowed to have children in the first place.

I was so happy to leave the hospital today.  To be able to take pictures of Potato without tubes on his face, happy to be at home in the company of his toys and his puppy dog.  And I will never let him be in a situation where he is exploited, scared, or left alone.

Because, while I may not be a perfect parent, I am at least parenting. And that is all that matters.