Puncture Day!

On a quick trip to the grocery store today, I picked up a nice fresh sub sandwich as a treat for my husband since we'd had nothing appetizing for him to make for lunch the night before. We got chatting with the deli employee and our conversation went exactly like this:

Deli Lady referencing the kids: 'I just LOVE their red hair'

Smiling, as I often do in response to the same statement from many people I say: 'Thanks'

Deli Lady: 'your kids really are adorable, so beautiful - they have such gorgeous eyes'

Me, smiling again 'Thank you'

Deli Lady: 'wow, they must look like their Dad, huh?'

O.U.C.H!!!!! My punctured ego!


After leaving the grocery store we headed straight for my husband's work to deliver his sandwich. A few miles down the road I hear the tell tale 'f-dump, f-dump, f-dump' accompanied by a loud BANG!

Oh, my punctured tire!

(It's really a tyre you know, but we'll not quibble about it now.)

A call to my husband brought out the Knight in Shining Armour in him and in minutes he came galloping on his trusty steed (okay, he trundled along in his ten year old Ford Ranger. Whatever.) and he rescued this Damsel in Distress.

(How is it that men know exactly where the jack is, how to get the spare out and can heft a Ford Expedition off the ground to change a tyre tire in a jiffy?) (I didn't even know where the spare was! Oh yeah, I'm such a self sufficient modern woman, huh?)

Pleased with his stellar job and proud of his Super Dad status, hubs said goodbye to the kids and I and we started up our respective vehicles.

Ahem.

I attempted to start up mine but the heap of junk, car wouldn't co-operate. Thankfully hubs witnessed the car in all it's petulance and trundled off in search of jump leads (because you know I'm not smart enough to carry my own, right? - nor him apparently).

He got us started a few minutes later and we were on our way home, on a wing and not a few prayers. My car is 5 years old and has very low miles - it's not a clunker by any means, but it sure felt like it today.

Diagnosis on inspection this evening is I needed a new battery and the tire can't be fixed.

NO!!! My punctured wallet!

Please let this be it for now - my husband is going to Ireland next week for a week. I don't know any more Knights to call in his absence!

Quest for Peace of Mind

Some kind readers have been asking for an update to this post.

My original appointment was rescheduled to today - so I had no news to give until now.

I met with the surgeon this morning who was very nice and gave me concrete advice - which to be honest, hasn't been all that forthcoming in the medical arenas that we've been dealing with in the last while. It's like they (as in the collective, medical 'they') are afraid to give advice, in case it proves to be erroneous and you sue them!

This medical/legal fear is not a helpful environment in which anxious patients (that would be me) are able to make sound decisions on their own medical treatment.

I went in to that office with a 'just tell me what to do' mentality - and I'm happy to have left with a clear plan.

The surgeon considers me low risk for anything sinister (I can't bring myself to type it, but you know what I'm talking about). This in itself is reassuring, and is something that nobody else was prepared to say.

However, he was very mindful of my level of anxiety over this whole thing. That's not to say I spend every waking moment in fear of it - I do not - but it does take over my thoughts several times a day, and sometimes at night.

Evidently I don't do not knowing very well.

I will go ahead and have what is called a stereotactic biopsy. Even though it's unlikely to be malignant - I need to know one way or the other. If it's not - then I've got my peace of mind - and I continue with regular mammography checks. If it is, then I haven't let it fester for four additional months. I feel better either way - that I'm being positive and proactive about it.

So, more waiting and a weird procedure on the horizon - but if it helps preserve my sometimes fragile mental health (and I'm only half joking!), then it's a good thing.

Thank you to those of you who asked about this, I appreciate it.

Will keep you posted.

In the meantime - if there is any woman reading this, who is over 35 and has not yet had their first mammogram done - go get the phone and make that appointment now. If you are overdue for an annual mammogram - again, get calling your docs office. NOW!

Neurotic Mothers Can't Blog

At least that's the best excuse reason I have for being absent from my own blog - and from pulling my weight, er I mean, dropping my weight, over at this blog.

I've talked before about the guilt that seems to come hand in hand with motherhood. I've also written about what can happen in the blink of an eye, when I should have been a more careful mother. What I haven't written about until now is the neurosis that this guilt feeds which has a tendency to take over my mind and life at times.

Slackermommy* has a great phrase 'Freebies from God' in relation to the little reminders we get as mothers to be more vigilant. I used up yet another 'Freebie' in August with Jay - I'm not going to get into details because I can't - I can't deal with the tears, the images that haven't left my mind and the GUILT! Suffice to say that a blind cord was involved and we had a very, very close shave.

I read today that I'm not the only mom this has happened to recently - and I have had chats online recently with another blogger who had her own version of the blind cord story - but I will leave that story for her to tell.

These little incidences, because they literally can mean life or death - sharpen those nervous anxieties that every mother has. They have us chastising ourselves for not having every eventuality covered. For not acknowledging that our smart kids will out manoeuvre us on our childproofing efforts, (or that those efforts were not as thorough as they should have been).

My days now consist of running around the house keeping the little man out of trouble. If 30 seconds goes by where I cannot see him, or hear him - I nervously go looking for him, and retrieve him from whatever mischief he's getting into - and as any toddler mother knows - there's mischief aplenty going on!

Add to this that Jay has fluid in his right ear that meant his latest routine hearing check couldn't be completed. I shrugged this off as either the potential start of an ear infection, or the residue of his first ear infection that he dealt with while we were in Ireland in June which was treated with anti-biotics. My preferred approach to this would have been 'wait and see' - if it develops into something - we'll have it checked, and since he was due for his two year check up soon anyway - I saw no need to take him to the Pediatrician's before this. The Audiologist disagreed, and proceeded to make me completely paranoid that this was the sign of something that could bring further deterioration in his heretofore very minor hearing issue. So off to the Pediatrician we went - and were told - 'both ears look great - very slight amount of fluid in the right ear - but nothing near an infection, and certainly nothing that requires meds'.

A couple of days later we get a phone call from the ENT doc Jay saw last year. He received the report from the Audiologist on his latest test that there was a little fluid, and suddenly the ENT doc wants to see Jay? Even the Audiologist wanted to wait and see if the fluid issue resolved itself over six weeks - but this mother's nerves are already jangling about the ears, and a phone call from a specialist is almost enough to send her over the edge. More phone calls with the Pediatrician who as always is the voice of reason, and reassures me that we have the luxury of six more weeks - and if the fluid hasn't resolved itself, then yes maybe and ENT consult is prudent.

Throw into this mix that I had my first mammogram a couple of weeks ago. My baseline mammogram. Expecting to have it done, and sent on my way not to return until I turn 40, I was shocked to have to have extra pictures done of one side, and later be told that I have to come back in six months to have another mammo because they want to keep an eye on calcification spots.

The rational part of my mind is fully capable of recognizing that this is proactive health care and it's a positive thing. That being careful is the right way to approach this. That what I have is 'probably benign'.

But...

The emotional part of my mind goes NUTS at news like this. The 'what if it's not benign?' thoughts run rampant and squash out all the rational thoughts, and the result is a blubbering mess.

My great blogging friend The Laundress, has been through all this, and has been wonderful in helping me gain some perspective.

It was, and remains though, another thread of anxiety that's going on with me right now.

In a welcome distraction from medical thoughts, appointments or worries, we prepared and enjoyed a great joint birthday party for Miss E and Jay, last Saturday. (My Miss E turned FOUR yesterday!). We had a fantastic day complete with a bounce house, lots of delicious food and a great semi-homemade cake (ahem!).

I had two cousins here with me, with their families. One lives in South Florida and came up for the weekend, the other lives in Ireland - but is currently on vacation with her family in Orlando and since they were relatively close by, they came over for a while on Saturday evening. It really was like having a mini family reunion, Stateside. The kids all had a blast getting to know each other, and we enjoyed meeting (and cuddling) my cousin's newborn.

All in all, a busy but fun and relaxing weekend.

As you can imagine, many photographs were taken. And once I loaded them up on my computer and viewed them, the neurosis settled back in full force. In one photograph, one of Miss E's eyes is showing a very strange white reflection.

(I can't post it because several of my cousins' kids are in the picture and I know not everyone is comfortable with their kids'photos being put on the internet so I'm not risking their wrath).

Every morning I sit and eat my breakfast, and catch a little of the Today Show. When I saw that picture of Miss E, a segment I'd seen on a kid with a white reflection in their eye showing up in photographs being diagnosed with retinoblastoma came to the forefront of my mind and, I panicked.

See what I mean? NEUROTIC!

I wanted to brush the reflection off as a weird trick of the light, something to do with the camera. The odds of it being nothing were high since retinoblastoma is very rare. I can tell you that meant nothing to me - it goes back to that emotional part of my brain that completely overwhelms the rational part and so I was a blubbering mess once more.

Another trip to the Pediatrician's office, this time we were seen by a Nurse Practitioner who thought Miss E's eyes looked just fine but referred us to an ophthalmologist just to be sure.

We had that appointment yesterday and Miss E has 20/20 vision, and 100% healthy eyes. In this regard, I have peace of mind once more, even if it did mean enduring a bit of a condescending lecture from the eye doctor on what reflections are normal from a camera with a flash - whatever.

This is what's been going on with us lately - which combined with my borderline obsession with all things political, means I haven't had time to either process thoughts into coherent blog posts, and to my shame, means I'm not reading or commenting as much on the many blogs in my reader.

Once my nerves stop jangling a little, and (maybe) after Nov 4th, I'll be back in the swing of things, and embracing the blog world once more.

In the meantime - all you calm mothers, who take things in your stride - all and any recommendations for me on maintaining a more even keel, are most definitely welcome.


(*Sadly I can't link to Slackermommy's post on this because she's had some difficulties with her blog and has taken it down.)

Note to self....

...check weather forecast before embarking on 3 mile hikes around lakes.

My resolution - way back in the autumn, to regularly walk around this lake stumbled somewhat, but has been gaining momentum in the last couple of weeks. I have been enjoying the walk a few times a week in this beautiful weather, and intend to keep it up in these early spring days, because come the summer you won't see me out there for a pension!

Miss E is off preschool today for President's Day - so off we set with the double stroller, water, and some stale bread because she wanted to feed the ducks (a determination she backs down from every.single.time when waddling wildfowl flock around her and freak her out!)

I shoved the kids' coats in the basket of the stroller 'just in case' since the sky was dull, but not threatening at all.

Good move!

Half way around the lake I feel moisture on my face - brushed it off as being mist blowing off the by now choppy water on the lake, (where I thought the mist suddenly appeared from I don't know, meteorology is clearly not my strong point. Nor is checking in with those for whom it is a strength, evidently).

Seconds later, with not a tree for shelter in sight, the skies opened and as only in Florida it can, dumped a monsoon right on top of us.

I scurried to get the kids' coats on - Miss E shrieking that her underpants were getting wet, a testament to how fast and how hard this rain was falling.

With a good mile and a half to go before we got back to the car my options were:

1. Run like a crazy lady, half pushing, and half leaning on the double stroller (with nearly 60 pounds worth of offspring strapped inside),

2. Find a tree and stand under it and wait for the worst to pass,

3. Give in, decide that we are thoroughly soaked, a little more rain won't hurt us and saunter back to the car enjoying the soothing tones of Tim McGraw in the iPod in the process.

Which did I choose?

All of the above, in that order!

At this point I should confess that I had to repeat options 1 and 2 several times, since option 2 was necessary to recover from option 1, and avoid emergency medical intervention.

We eventually got back to the parking lot, and I offered Miss E the option of getting into the dry car - or feeding the ducks.

She opted to feed the ducks.

I half thought the ducks wouldn't be interested and I was right. They were a lot more sensible than us, finding whatever shelter they could from the battering rain.

The geese however were a completely different story. They sniffed out our stale wholewheat from somewhere far away as I hadn't even seen them. Those things can move fast, they're loud and not a bit shy. Suddenly here I was with a gaggle of white geese, which look all white and fluffy and cute from far away, but loud and up close ? Not so much.

Let's just say - Miss E didn't even want to touch the bread. And rather than break off pieces, I threw whole slices of bread as far as I could to get those creatures away from us! The only sliver of pride I had left stopped me from throwing the whole loaf, bag and all at them and letting them duke it out among themselves, lest I make myself out to be a complete chicken in front of bystanders (all two of them stupid enough to stand in the open in this rain).

Lesson learned - future walks only to be undertaken after extensive consultation with the weather forecast. And, you can bet I'll be packin' a brolly!

Potty Training is for the BIRDS.

Really! If we were birds how much easier would this process be? Just fly along and let loose on some unsuspecting punter's head.

This has to be the most challenging aspect of motherhood so far (cue experienced mothers with older kids and their knowing peals of laughter here. I know there are worse things than this ahead - too scared to think of those yet).

I have a two and a half year old who is so far resistant to all and any approaches I take. I've tried praise, rewards, blatent bribery and shameless pleading - no major progress so far and we've been at this give or take, 6 months. If I had a dollar for every mom stating 'oh really you're having problems? - gosh it just 'clicked' with my kid' I'd be a rich lady by now. I'm ready for some serious 'clicking' in our house right now.

It's driving me nuts. Growing up I often heard my Dad state that insanity was hereditary, you get it from your kids - stuff like this makes me realise how right is he is!

Here's hoping she gets there soon though, my mental health, and the carpet, depend on it.