Laundry for Six

thoughts for a saturday

2014-01-18T13:56:00.000-05:00

Jeans. I have been hating on jeans for years... ever since low cut waists became the thing. Even if I was in great shape (which I'm NOT), I've had 4 kids and there's just no way that area of my body shouldn't be covered. Supported even. With some spandex. And possibly bondo.

So I stopped wearing jeans because even the highest rise at Old Navy did not do it for me. (Also? Can I just take a second to complain about how many ass-cracks I've seen in the last few years, thanks to this God-forsaken trend? Even on skinny people, when your pants are that low and you bend over - ass-crack. No thanks, really.)

One of my Facebook friends was crowdsourcing best jeans for the 40-something body recently and I saw lots of recommendations for Not Your Daughter's Jeans. (The name is promising...) I saw them online at Nordstrom and Bloomingdales, but they're pricey. Even if they are miracle jeans, $100+ is a lot for my budget right now. So I checked eBay and holla! I found a pair, in the dark rinse I wanted, with a boot cut (I know, so 1990) in my size. And they are AMAZING. I love them! (And they were $25.)

There is a Lift and Tuck model - I don't think I got that style, so I can't say how those are, but, the regular kind fit, tuck and hang just the way I want them to. I'm ready to try for another pair.

(This is completely unsponsored. Just love the jeans. Any other recommendations?)

2014

2014-01-13T16:46:00.002-05:00

I did it. I survived 2013. (And even 13 days of 2014.) It was looking questionable there at the end. 2013 was, if nothing else, a religious experience. I learned to believe that someone else was driving my bus because I very clearly was not. (And I also prayed that it wasn't Keanu Reeves. Or a pigeon.) But the bus is at least still on the road, despite getting lost and driving over potholes and bridges that made me want to lose my lunch. I'm not even sure which road we're on now, but I've discovered it doesn't matter. I'm just trying to sit back and enjoy the ride. (Don't worry, I got lost in that analogy too.)

I make the same damn resolutions every year, and abandon them a few days into February, if not before. So this year, my only resolution is to paint the risers on my stairs. Surely I can accomplish that. (I was also going to RSVP promptly to everything I'm invited to, but yesterday I forgot to send my regrets to an event and so I'm giving up on that one. I suck at the RSVP. It's wrong and I know it, but it goes deep into my fear of social events and commitment. And also to the fact that I can never find my calendar.)

I contemplated resolving not to get into Facebook comment fights, but sometimes, you just gotta. I'd like to watch more TV, but that's not likely. Coloring my roots before they get embarrassing. It's a goal, but all to easy to break.

Paint colors. What color should I paint my risers? My plan was the picture above, but it's quite a commitment for me. Maybe I should just go with white? (You can see why this may take me the whole year...)

Image from Country Living

another round

2013-11-14T14:37:00.002-05:00

Well, we seem to ping from one crisis to another around here.

Shout is doing well. Back and in school and happy. She's almost back to where she was emotionally, with a few rough edges that still need to be smoothed out. I need a long-term plan, but we've got the short-term under control.

Now one of the other kids is struggling. And again, I feel panicked, helpless, sad... It's so hard to know what is a four-alarm fire and what just needs time (and copious amounts of prayer) to work itself out. There was a great post on Flower Patch Farmgirl yesterday. (I am a Farmgirl Fangirl.) She says, "I want to micro-manage him forever, because it feels much safer and I think I might be more effective than God. (Keeping it real, God.)"

Yes! When do I just step back and trust it will work out?

And when do I stop living in what feels like a crisis? I keep waiting for the calm after the storm (there were those 3 days last week...), but another storm is always on the horizon. Maybe that IS life. Maybe it's all storm and I should just stop waiting for the calm. I'm not sure I have the spine for that.

So I went out and got myself a new job. I was all excited about it last week, and I still am, but it's tempered somewhat this week by the fear that the timing may not be quite right. We'll see. I don't want to say too much about it yet other than it's a place I've always wanted to work, it's close to home, it's a not-for-profit that does good things for the earth, and I can wear jeans. (It's the little things.)

My old job had changed quite a bit from when I first started and I was ready for something new. Especially something that gets me out of the house, because, guess what? I've been staring at these walls for 13 years. I would actually love to have another place to hang my hat for part of the day. Also, I need a more predictable paycheck. Because, guess what else? Mental health? It's for the wealthy, apparently.

I'm praying that our crazy can keep itself contained for 5 hours a day.

better

2013-11-08T10:12:00.001-05:00

Things are much improved here.

I'm not sure exactly what it was - OT, therapy, the month long break from school, many hours of talk and snuggles and a liberal application of chocolate chips... but we're clicking back into a rhythm. A rhythm that includes school. For everyone. (The chorus of angels... can you hear it?)

We still have some mysteries to resolve (like What the Hell Happened? and How the Hell Do We Keep This from Happening Again?), but we're well on our way to the crazy we call normal around here.

Or she's on her way.

*I* have post-traumatic stress disorder.

The therapy bills are piling up, the driving and scheduling and coordinating has done me in.

She's still very nervous when I'm not home. She won't go to bed if I'm not here. So checking myself into a Hampton Inn for the weekend just isn't going to happen. (Hell, I'm even willing to get my appendix or gall bladder or something taken out just to get a night or two off, but as of now, I'd have to share my hospital bed with an 8-year old. So no.)

So I went out and did something else for myself...

angels among us

2013-10-21T02:15:00.001-04:00

Thank you all for your kind comments, emails, tweets, messages, etc. I truly appreciate the support. Sometimes when you need it the most, it's hard to ask for it.

I keep praying for that one magic answer - the vitamin deficiency that's cured by a gummy bear shaped chewable from Trader Joes, or the breathing exercise that melts away anxiety instantly, or the educational accomodation that sudddenly makes school seem like a happy place again. But I'm not finding it.

What I am finding though is parents who have been startlingly honest with me about their own kids' struggles. Sometimes completely unprompted.

I was at a party last night and saw a friend I haven't seen in a long time. The very first thing she said after "Hi," was to tell me about the hard, hard struggles with mental illness one of her kids is having. The very first thing I said, after she dropped what might have been a conversational bomb on anyone else was, "Thank you. Thank you for telling me this. And I'm so sorry. And please tell me more."

No one tells you this. There is no chapter in What to Expect When You're Expecting about what to do when your kid has a nervous breakdown. Besides how sad and scared you feel, you think you are the only one. And that it's all your fault. You really screwed up parenting. You passed on defective brain chemistry. It was all that non-organic produce you bought.

But it happens. It happens a lot. To people you know. To kids you know. Everyone has their struggles.

I keep praying that peace and healing will come to my kid. And maybe it is. But it's not happening as quickly as I would like. But everytime I hear from another parent who has walked this road (or a similar one), it gives me hope.

things fall apart

2013-10-15T02:25:00.000-04:00

Good LORD, y'all.

I wish I could tell you many times I have written and re-written this post. (Half the time, I got interrupted, the other half, I just didn't know what to say.)

We've been having a hard time here.

The transition to the school year was really rough for my kids. More for some than others, but it required professional intervention for um... half of them. (I said rough.)

We are back on track (I think) with everyone but Shout. And there, we are, well... way off track.

She hasn't been at school in 2 weeks. And she's not going this week either.

I really want her back in school, but I also feel like something is very wrong and I'm not sure yet what it is. And I owe it to her to do everything I can to figure out what the problem is. Because sending her to school was sending her right over the edge. (And she was taking the rest of us with her. Truly.)

She's anxious. So anxious. I honestly think she may have had a nervous breakdown. (What is that exactly, anyway?) And I partially blame myself because I didn't realize what was happening. And sometimes (a lot of times) my first instinct is never the right one. When she said she didn't want to go to school, I packed up her stuff, picked her up, stuffed her in the car, and brought her to school.

A few times.

And it didn't work. And it got so, so, so much worse after that.

Like I broke her trust in me. To understand her. And help her.

And I really just didn't get it at first.

So now, we've taken a giant step back.

I'm picking up the broken shards of what's left of the two of us. Trying to see what we can fit back together.

I'm taking her to everyone I can think of who can help us. (I'll be honest. For a few days, I floundered. I was so knocked off my feet by all of this. I couldn't think, or act. I couldn't make a plan. It was a mess. And then, suddenly, it was like I put my glasses on and the blur started to focus.)

We're back at the amazing OT who helped us before. (Thank you, you know who you are.) We're seeing a therapist who helps kids with anxiety. I'm working with the school. I'm emailing her doctors. I'm researching school alternatives, if that's what we need to do. I'm throwing whatever I can think of at the problem.

It's hard. I wish that after googling late into the night, or emailing all my friends who have gone through something like this before, or surrounding ourselves with expensive practitioners, we'd have a solution. We'd be all glued back together by now.

But we aren't.

It's better but it's still not great. I'm walking on eggshells. Wondering how we got here. When will we ever leave here. Trying to put myself into the head of a complicated, scared, angry 8-year old girl who doesn't even know what's going on in there herself.

So there it is.

I couldn't figure out how to get it out. If I should share the gory details (I didn't). If I should even say exactly what was going on, or just imply hard times in one of those annoying "I can't blog about this" posts.

Writing about things helps me figure them out. Sometimes you all help me figure things out. And maybe somewhere down the road, someone else out there will read this and see herself and her own angry 8-year old and will take a deeper breath because she knows she's not the only one.

operating instructions indeed

2013-09-09T06:00:00.000-04:00

I'm sure every parent of more than one child knows this, but they are all. so. different. Like almost different species different sometimes. It's always so much more apparent during times of transition - hello, beginning of a new school year and tired, cranky children!

When one kid melts down, he's overwhelmed and needs help. Another one needs you to stick a sandwich in his hand. Immediately. Another one needs a hug. The other one needs space. (I usually need a shower or a glass of wine. Or both. Always both.)

It's like that Love Language book. Except in our house, it's the Anger Language.It keeps me on my toes. Because when someone shouts at me, my first reaction? Shout back. Duh. I think it's primal. It takes a concerted effort to remember that this is the kid that needs me to bite my tongue and get out the turkey and cheese, quickly.

It's the end of a long day when I should have bitten my tongue but didn't, and failed to understand what the melting down kid in front of me was saying until it was too late. And I wonder how long it will take before I have this parenting gig down.

where i've been

2013-09-06T11:15:00.001-04:00

What a summer!

You may have wondered why I disappeared...

I took on being co-president of our local summer pool. Sounds easy enough... right?

It's like having a full-time volunteer job. And 300 additional children. And a bunch of teenagers as co-workers. And an aging facility that is over 50 years old. That leaks water like a colander.

It was hard and exhausting and crazy fun.

Early in the spring, I actually sat and counted the days until Labor Day. I was covered with paint and caulk, sunburnt and frustrated.

But then, Labor Day arrived and I was not quite ready.

And now it's back to school and routines and life here, which is always a hard transition for us. More on that to come.

swept away

2013-06-18T01:26:00.002-04:00

I'm still in the honeymoon period of summer where I think I might actually make these.
Image and recipe from Country Living. Of course, you can buy good ones at the grocery store too.

MAY 1ST?? That was the last time I posted here?

I should be fired.

In my defense, I have written a few posts that are unfinished, unpublishable, and mostly for therapy only. But it's really inexcusable.

What's new, kittens?

I took on the mother of all volunteer jobs that ate up my entire life. What was I thinking? I'm doing hard work. That I love. Things I did a few lifetimes ago. I'm working with great people.

I'm also ruining my clothes (it's messy) and yesterday was the first time I've gone to the grocery store and gotten a full cart of groceries since the beginning of May. (And honestly, it was mostly because it was Father's Day and that's what the Mister asked for. And it was easier than putting together a new grill.)

Ask me in a few months if it was all worth it. I think I'll say yes. Right now, it's day to day.

Today was the first official day of no school. I always have such high hopes.

Strolling to the farmers market. Harvesting our own vegetables. Picnics. Water fights. Reading for fun. Homemade lemonade.

I really should know better.

No one helped all day. There was entirely too much TV and junk food. The Littles were up at the crack of dawn and the Bigs slept most of the day.

That little army of laundry folders, dishwashers, and lawn mowers I had in my head? Not here.

I realize it's only been 24 hours, but that Pinterest-worthy summer I had planned already seems like a lost cause. I need to dig deep and try again tomorrow.

Just curious - has anyone ever just thrown out the dirty laundry? I'm asking for a friend...

world immunization week - how you can help the cause without even getting off your couch

2013-05-01T01:02:00.001-04:00

Because this is the busiest season of the year for me and I'm barely keeping my head above water, I'm late to the party, but last week was World Immunization Week! It was also Shot@Life's first birthday! (Next year, I'm totally making a cake.)

Want to know how you can support global immunization programs in the developing world and not spend a dime?

1. Take a walk.

Seriously. Download the Charity Miles app, pick Shot@Life as your charity, and hit the streets. Every 4 miles you walk/run vaccinates a child. (It keeps track - you don't have to do 4 miles all at once.) You can treadmill or cycle too. (No driving. That's cheating!)

2. Share the love.

Until May 3 (3 more days!) share the daily Global Mom Relay post on your social media networks and a $5 donation is unlocked for each share made to Shot@Life. That couldn't be easier. How many $5 shares can we get from Laundry for Six readers and their friends? Ready, go!

3. Eat gelato!

This isn't completely free, but if you're local, go to the new Dolci Gelati shop in Takoma Park and order the Shot@Life flavor (vanilla/pistachio swirl). Fifty cents from every order goes directly to Shot@Life.

Do you know how much it costs to vaccinate a child in the developing world? $5 for measles. The cost of a latte. To keep a kid from dying of measles. (Remember when I had the measles? I thought I was going to die. It's horrible.) For $20, a child can get ALL their vaccines. $20 - you can't get that kind of bang for your buck anywhere!

Shot@Life, the UN Foundation, The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, Rotary International, and many others are doing amazing things with preventative health care in the developing world. I am in awe of some of the people I have met and work I have learned about since becoming a Shot@Life Champion.

I feel passionately about this because I know how very blessed we are to have vaccinations for our children in this country. And herd immunity. And antibiotics. And pediatricians. I feel like I owe it to other mothers in the world who don't have those things to do my part, as little as it may be, to share the wealth with them.

Every 20 seconds a child dies of a vaccine-preventable disease. I think about that every day. We are better than that. The means to bring healthy childhoods to kids in developing countries is there. It just takes all of us pushing it along.

Push with me. Share a post. Walk 4 miles. Meet me for some gelato!

what we do with our time

2013-04-10T01:56:00.000-04:00

The volunteer project that ate my spring break.

I've spent the last week or more weighted down by volunteer projects. I try to pick carefully and not overload myself, because my most important volunteer job is my kids. But there are days, like yesterday, where I feel swamped and over-committed.

Last week, I read this provocative post by Jen Hatmaker, And Then the Conference Uninvited Me to Speak - it's about church and religion and Jesus and there's so much to pick apart here... I could write a whole post just about my thoughts on church right now... but I'll get to that another day.

She talks about churches (you could insert "communities" here) serving and supporting their members. And while that is well and good, there is so much more to be done in the world. Starving babies, human trafficking, racism, injustice. Serving ourselves is... well... self-serving.

It made me take a good hard look at the volunteer jobs I've taken on. And not surprisingly, almost all of them are ones that make MY world, and my kids' world, better. And by world, I mean "world," not "WORLD." Do you know what I'm saying?

Most of the work taking up my free time is in support of things I love about my little world. Reasons why we chose this neighborhood in which to raise our kids. Keeping traditions from my own youth alive. Sports, school, neighborhood organizations.

There's nothing wrong with those things. They're good. All of them. It's part of what makes up our good fortune. So many people around the world with so much less can't even dream of fundraising events and cotillions and swimming pools. We don't have to eschew them as trappings of the developed world or the middle class. And we shouldn't take them for granted - we are truly blessed. Those things don't happen without lots of good-hearted, generous volunteers who give their time to keep our world running. Those are the things I'm doing. And I'm proud of that work...

But I also feel a strong call to give my time to projects that give me absolutely nothing in return. To serve communities that cannot serve themselves. Whose members don't have the time, or organization, or money, or whatever it is they're lacking, to do it themselves.

Jesus solved the wine shortage at his friends' wedding, but he also touched lepers and befriended loose women. People who had nothing to offer him. Who had no community to lift them up. Radical.

There's got to be a balance in there somewhere.

Where I can give back to my community, but also give to those whose needs are essential and basic, and who, without us - the fortunate, the middle class, the haves - me - you - have nowhere else to turn.

I've been reading The Flower Patch Farmgirl and The Stanley Clan. Two families who moved to the heart of the 'hood to serve the people living there. Yep. Left the suburbs and the good schools. The dream house. Safety. Radical. (Check them out.)

I don't know the answer. I think, really, this post is just asking the question.

How do we do this? How do we balance? What can a suburban, minivan-driving mom of four, who does her best to make her "world" a better place do to make the "WORLD" a better place?

reset

2013-04-05T17:53:00.000-04:00

It was a day.

It started with everyone waking up late. (My fault.) And subsequently getting to school late. (With lots of yelling along the way.) I got to a meeting late (lingered too long over my morning coffee) which became unexpectedly contentious. (If you know me, you know I hate contentious.) The day went on with miscommunications, missed deadlines, wandering attention, and poor time management. And I didn't have time to eat lunch, so I was the kind of grouchy that comes with lack of sleep and low blood sugar.

I picked the kids up at school, cringing because what I really needed all day was a nap and a 2-hour stretch of laundry-folding to get my living room cleaned up. Instead, I got a carload of cranky, overtired (my fault - missed their bedtimes the night before), overburdened kids. There was homework, a project, a letter from the principal, instrument practice and a dance class. And no food in the fridge and no plan for dinner and fighting, oh LORD the fighting, and ohmahgah is it ok to open a bottle of wine at 3:30 in the afternoon?

I was so preoccupied with all the ways the day had sucked... that I had failed. Starting with the night before, to the morning of yelling and the afternoon sinkful of dishes, and the evening impatience, that I couldn't get myself out of the muck.

Sitting here days later (because I've written this post 3 times now and lost it each time), it's easy to see what might have helped. A 20 minute walk, some loud music and a quick clean up, ice cream, a hot bath. It's also so easy to see how much my mood set the tone. Yes, my kids were tired and cranky too. But dealing with a growly, fractious mom who couldn't find the reset button, just sent us all circling down the drain of discontent. Ended only by an early bedtime and an alarm that was properly set for the morning.

My only hope, after putting a day like this to bed (literally), is that I'll do better the next time. I'll at least search for the reset button, if not actually find it. That I'll take a deep breath and put my own irritation aside to sooth my kids out of theirs. That I'll remind myself that even though I'm flawed, I'm still full of grace, sometimes buried way down deep. That I'll remember that each and every day, even the sucky ones, are a blessing. Maybe hidden under tattered paper and crumpled ribbon, but a gift nonetheless.

elsewhere

2013-03-19T11:07:00.001-04:00

From here.

I'm over at the DC Moms today, talking about my love-hate relationship with Pinterest.

marching

2013-03-18T00:18:00.003-04:00

We're halfway through MARCH? How did that happen? I've been buried under piles of blankets, waiting for spring to come. (On a related note, we're expecting a wintery mix tomorrow morning. PLEASE can we just have spring??)

So are you keeping your New Year's Resolutions?

I decided to do monthly resolutions this year. I started off with a bang in January (don't we all?). I never wrote about my February resolutions, but I did keep a list. (Ok, it was in my head.) But this month, I haven't even thought about them.

So here was my list from January and how I did:

~~Read one book.~~
Exercise 5 times. (Fail. This was on my February list (fail again) and now it's modified and on my March list. I'm hoping warmer weather will help me!)
~~Do one new family activity. (God help me.)~~ (We did it! Both months. I'm going to write about one of our adventures later this month.)
Lose 2 pounds. (Well... I lost 5 when I had the flu, but gained it back again, so I'm calling this a fail.)
~~Make 2 new recipes. (Whether or not people eat them is less my concern.)~~
~~Spend 30 minutes a day on my house.~~ (I did this in January, but got lost somewhere mid-February. I need to get back to this. It was mostly just laundry, but that is my kryptonite.)
Find and watch 2 YouTube videos on Calligraphy. (I couldn't find what I wanted. I revised this for March.)
Attack and clean my dining room. (Never happened - desperately needs to.)
I was hoping to make more progress, but I did cross a few things off the list.

Since March is half over, I'm going to make my list a little more manageable.

For March:

Exercise 3 times. (If I can't do this, I really suck.)
Do one new family activity. (This will be easy - we're going to the beach for a few days.)
Make 2 new recipes. (Already did one.)
Spend 15 minutes a day on my house.
Finish the online art class I started.
Attack and clean my dining room. (Before Easter!)
Go to bed before midnight Sunday-Thursday.

And since it's 12 minutes after midnight, I'm off!

grieving

2013-03-12T00:12:00.000-04:00

It's been a difficult month here.

My mother-in-law - delightful, entertaining, energetic, hilarious, opinionated, engaged and brave - died last month. She had melanoma. Damn, fucking cancer.

She lived a long and full life - 83 years of mostly good health and lots of laughter. The past year and a half was hard. And even though it was 83 years, it could never seem long enough.

She was our hub. Our nucleus. That energetic force that kept us in our tight orbit.

She was a gatherer. A story teller. An entertainer.

She made no apologies for what she wasn't, and celebrated what she was. And her greatest gift, as the mother-in-law to quite a few, was to grant that same grace to us. There was never any accounting of our failings, or faults, or the areas where we were lacking. She encouraged, she celebrated, she accepted.

I sometimes feel like the adventurous part of my life is over, but in writing about her death on Facebook, I compiled this list:

She went to college in her 50s, moved to New York and worked in the city in her 60s, started her own radio show in her 70s and her own website in her 80s. And in each of those adventures, she was wildly successful.

There's hope for me yet. For all of us. Our greatest adventures and accomplishments may still lie ahead.

I've been grieving this loss since I heard the news that her cancer, found 6 years earlier on her skin, and we thought successfully removed, had returned in her liver. I feel like I need to put my own grieving aside because my kids are also grieving, each in their own and very different way. And I'm trying to find the right balance of sadness and strength because they need to see both. But feeling the right one at the right time is a skill I am still trying to master.

shot@life - the beginning

2013-02-12T17:11:00.000-05:00

I'm exhausted, you all! In a good way.

I spent the last three days with the United Nations Foundation learning to be a Shot@Life Champion. Shot@Life is a program to promote worldwide childhood vaccinations. One hundred people were chosen to be this year's Champions and I am honored to be one of them.

In the past 3 days, I've learned about the history of vaccines, vaccine safety, how to advocate to my Congressional delegation, how to fundraise, plan events, strategize digital campaigns and got media training.

I've also met some rockstar fellow-advocates, listened to Kristin van Ogtrop, editor of Real Simple magazine speak (remember when I had a conference call with her?) and eaten some ah-mazing food. (And I may have had a glass of wine or two.)

I have so much to process to figure out how I, personally, can further the mission of Shot@Life. I have a lot to share and a lot to think about.

I can tell you that after these few days, I am more grateful than ever that I can drive 15 minutes to my pediatrician's office and don't have to worry about my kids dying of a disease that a simple vaccine can prevent. Because every TWENTY SECONDS a child in the world dies of a vaccine preventable disease. That's 50 kids since I started typing this post. Fifty heartbroken mothers.

There's more to come from me on this. First I need about 12 hours of sleep, have approximately 300 emails I have to deal with and 90 valentines to make. Stay tuned.

five hundred twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes

2013-02-06T00:42:00.000-05:00

I miss you, friend. (Click on the picture to embiggen.)

Today, hug your kids extra hard, meet a friend for coffee, sing out loud with the radio, stand outside and stare at the moon. Every moment is precious. I remember Susan every day, but I sometimes forget the lessons she taught me.

May we all be the change we want to see in the world.

Please consider furthering Susan's legacy through contributions to The Inflammatory Breast Cancer Research Foundation or The American Cancer Society.

Please join bloggers throughout the web in honoring Susan Niebur's life and contributions with a post, and please add your link below.

fragments

2013-01-29T16:52:00.003-05:00

I sit here with the windows open - 70 degrees on a January day. Yesterday, I had blankets wrapped around me while I worked at my desk in the living room. Two days from now, they are calling for snow. Tell me this is normal.

Shout did her homework on the picnic table outside. Screaming at the bold squirrels that got too close for comfort. She spends her afternoons with purpose. Plots them out. Schedules her time and then executes. I'm not sure how she's my child.

On the dining room table is an orange box only slightly smaller than my first car with Tide's new shoes inside. His feet grow into a new size about every 14 days. It won't be the economy that brings us to bankruptcy, it will be the shoes.

Cheer lies on the couch, suffering from a mystery ailment. His head and belly hurt. Yet SpongeBob, which makes my head throb on my best day, doesn't seem to be irritating him. The spelling book they sent home from school, however, is sending him into paroxysms.

My mind is tired and preoccupied. Work and play. Life and death. Friend and foe. Responsibility and freedom. Choices, decisions, situations.

I will sit outside and dare the squirrels to come too close.

don't cry for me, anesthesia

2013-01-16T20:53:00.000-05:00

Remember the Cough that Could Wake the Dead?

It turned into the Virus that Left Me for Dead.

I don't know what it was, but I have only been THAT sick a few times in my life. (And one was when I had the measles. Which turned into pneumonia. Which may actually have been H1N1, but whatever.)

Right around the time the fever hit me, I decided I might be getting an infection in my neck incision. Maybe because I had been squirting stuff into it. There was a little part that hadn't closed up yet... like a wormhole into my soul. But in the wormhole, there was a big wad of surgical glue. I couldn't pull it out - it had become one with whatever was in there. I was trying to dissolve it with various compounds... nail polish remover, rubbing alcohol, olive oil, coconut oil, tea tree oil, motor oil. No luck. (Also? You can't actually see your neck, so performing home-based surgery on your own neck is especially challenging.) (Also? In all my internet searching, I didn't find a SINGLE hit where someone had a wormhole filled with surgical glue. These are uncharted waters, people.)

So I was relieved to discover that my fever was from the flu and not a giant pulsating coconut-based neck infection. As much as a person can be relieved when your bones have turned to shards of glass and you are unable to even take a deep breath without shudders of pain.

When I was finally able to talk and not moan, I called the surgeon's office. She told me to come in the next week because the glue needed to come out.

Sure enough, a few days later, she stuck a sharp, grabby thing into my wormhole and pulled out a giant piece of glue. Ripping open the incision in the process.

I should add, there was no anesthesiologist in the room. I'm trying not to faint even as I type.

Then she got out some sterile cutting implements and went to town, opening up part of the skin that had closed up over the glue. She yanked another big piece out of there with the grabby thing of torture.

Then they rubbed me down with alcohol (OMG) and I had to hold a piece of gauze on my neck to stop the bleeding.

(Lying down for a minute. I'll be right back.)

Ok.

Then? She stuck that camera up my nose again, just for good measure.

So I went from this

To this. Which is itchy and kind of hurty. But glue-free and probably not infected.

I'm going to call that winning.

new

2013-01-02T16:03:00.002-05:00

Cozy. Not my house though.

I ended 2012 with a trip to the pediatrician's office and cuddles on the couch with a feverish Shout.

I contemplated making my New Year's Resolution that we would have money LEFT OVER in our medical flexible spending account this year. Then I promptly discarded that idea as I made ANOTHER trip to the doctor today with Bounce.

Why do my kids wait until the END of the break to get sick?

And did I mention that after being coughed, sneezed and slobbered on for a few days, I woke up this morning that a cough that could wake the dead? (And also pull every muscle in my upper body. And ouch, I have a headache too.)

I made a list of my resolutions for the New Year. Actually, just for January, knowing full well that I will have abandoned them by February 1st. (Ok, not really. I decided that I want to create better habits, so I'm starting myself off slowly in January and will hopefully ramp up the things that worked each month.)

My list is a little long, but mostly achieveable. (You know me... set the bar right where you can step over it.)

Here are a few of my goals for the month:

Read one book. (I'm 25% there.)
Exercise 5 times. (But brrrr, it's so cold out.)
Do one new family activity. (God help me.)
Lose 2 pounds. (Should be doable, right?)
Make 2 new recipes. (Whether or not people eat them is less my concern.)
What about you? Any big plans for 2013?

photo from Country Living

results

2012-12-28T17:55:00.001-05:00

My scar two weeks post surgery. Looking good.
Holy cow that picture is huge?!

Sorry for the long silence, but here's the upshot of this post: I DON'T HAVE CANCER!

What else can I say to top that?

I thought I did. I really thought I did. My endocrinologist really thought I did. He prepped me for the bad news.

I was ready for the bad news. But as the days dragged on and I waited for the phone call, my brain became less and less used to the idea.

I think because I felt so much better after the surgery. It no longer felt like someone was gently strangling me. I could swallow and not feel a lump in my throat. After almost 6 months of feeling progressively worse, I was suddenly feeling better (itchy surgical glue notwithstanding) and I wasn't at all prepared for what would come next if it was cancer.

I was expecting a call from my doctor last Friday. I had gone to the hospital in the morning for some bloodwork and sat around for the afternoon, making lame attempts to work.

Finally, feeling like a high school girl waiting for the phone call from that cute boy from the party, I gave up and went to the mall. I inspected the men's wallets at Macy's... comparing and contrasting trifolds vs. bifolds. (And what the heck is a passcase?)

It was all overwhelming. Loud music, perfume guy spraying customers, people everywhere, merchandise flung every which way. After pretty much hibernating for over a week, it was more than I should have taken on.

I got in line to pay for the wallet (bifold, on sale) and just as it was my turn, my phone rang with the hospital's number. (Of course it did.)

I left the line, pushed past the guy spraying perfume, walking quickly away from the thumping music toward the furniture section where I could actually hear.

And that's where I got the good news.

I had a Hürthle cell adenoma, which is a benign tumor. (Isn't that umlout intimidating though?) But a biopsy can't tell the difference between that and a Hürthle cell carcinoma (cancer). They have to look at the margins and see if it's spread. And mine hasn't. Hürthle cell carcinoma is an aggressive form of thyroid cancer that doesn't typically respond to radioactive iodine treatments, like most other thyroid cancers do. If it's caught early (still in the neck), it can be removed surgically. If it's not, it spreads to the lungs and bones and you have to use traditional chemotherapy to try to stop it's growth. But the prognosis of metastatic Hürthle cell carcinoma is not good.

So I didn't really say most of that to anyone because I didn't really want to think about it myself, but that's what they were looking at.

I feel like a 500-pound weight has been lifted off my shoulders that I didn't even know was there.

I know it's probably cliche, but I am very much appreciating my health and life right now. I'm thankful that my kids don't have to spend the next year, or 5 years, with a sick mom. Or worse.

I want to make some changes. (Maybe I'm getting carried away with this because it coincides with the New Year.) I want to take better care of my body. I want my house to be a place of calm and order. (That may be impossible, but I'm going to go down trying.) I want to consciously make memories with my kids and not let the days slip by. I want to stop procrastinating and just DO. (I also want to pay off all these medical bills. Ha!)

Thanks for riding this roller coaster with me. I truly appreciate all the comments and kind thoughts that have come my way. And I'm really glad we're off it now.

I'm wishing you all a 2013 filled with HEALTH and GOOD THINGS.

it all went well

2012-12-14T10:30:00.001-05:00

I'll update more later, but it was much less painful than I expected. Thanks for all the thoughts and prayers. Hoping to get released today.

No word on pathology, but the surgeon said the tumor was rubbery not hard, and that's a good sign.

where trouble melts like lemondrops

2012-12-12T00:47:00.000-05:00

This picture doesn't really have anything to do with the post. I just like it.
My Littles. Who aren't so little any more.

I've been loading music on my iPhone. (I'm embarrassed to admit I just figured out how to do it.) One advantage of having older kids is that I know popular music again. I'm medicating stress with music and I'd forgotten how well that works. Some of my favorites right now are This Girl is on Fire by Alicia Keys, Home by Phillip Phillips and Angels to Fly by Ed Sheeran.

I have several songs that remind me of Susan. I've been so wishing I could talk to her lately. (And well, I have. If you ever pull up next to me in my car during the day, I'm always talking to someone... who's probably not actually in the car...)

One day recently, I was out walking and thinking how much I needed her advice. Pandora was playing in my earbuds and suddenly I heard a medley of two of my Susan songs that I never knew existed - I'm Yours and Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

Little things like that make me feel like she's talking back.

I'm plowing my way through a huge To Do list, partially to prepare for my surgery and partially to distract myself from it. And the bathroom ceiling really does need a good scrubbing anyway.

I have to leave my house at 4:30 in the morning on Thursday. I'm first on the chopping block that day, so to speak. At least I won't be without food for so long. Although I'm unclear as to whether or not I have to be on a liquid diet for the first day. Maybe that's all I'll want, but I don't get to eat food that I didn't cook myself very often. It will be a bummer if all I get is Jello cups.

I'll update when I can, either here or on the Laundry for Six Facebook page. I'm sure it will all be fine. I've already done my worrying on this one. I'm ready to just move on already.

all is calm, all is bright

2012-11-28T12:07:00.000-05:00

I'm still here! I'm on some sort of nesting kick - I've been decluttering my house like a woman possessed. I cleaned out the attic! I don't even know who I am.

How was your Thanksgiving?

Mine was quite possibly the best one ever. And by that, I mean that none of my children assaulted anyone, melted down, barfed or pissed anyone off. (There was a brief scuffle where I had to throw my body between two of them, but that's just normal goings on lately.)

I'm getting a wee bit of Christmas spirit on, which is pretty good for a Grinch like me. It's not even December yet and I've done some shopping. I'm not decorating or anything (first I'd have to put away the Halloween decorations, right?) but I'm not stressed and miserable. Or maybe it's just too early?

Otherwise everything is good.

Shout has been carrying around her barf bucket on a regular basis ever since she had the stomach flu. You know, A MONTH AND A HALF AGO.

The other day, she was holding it right under her chin as she walked through the house and she sneezed and bonked her nose HARD on the edge of the bucket. I'm a bad mom, but I laughed my butt off.And still she carries it.

And she checks in with me at least 50 times a day about food safety issues.

Is it ok to eat something that touched a fork that fell on the floor? Is it ok to eat something if you washed your hands but then dried them on your shirt? Is it ok to eat something if you are in the same room with someone who coughed? Is it ok to eat something with your hands if you have marker on them?

(I'm assuming the answer to all these questions is YES because that's what I've been telling her.)

I don't know if she's headed for an eating disorder or a career in infectious diseases. It's exhausting for me, it's GOT to be exhausting for her. (At least she'll be easy to buy Christmas gifts for... have you SEEN all the scented hand sanitizers at Bath and Body Works?)

and then, she stuck this thing up my nose...

2012-11-08T09:56:00.000-05:00

First off, thank you all for your comments, emails, good thoughts and prayers. I so appreciate them all!

Second, I really liked the surgeon. She does a few hundred of these surgeries every year and she said she sees a lot of patients like me, who have Hashimoto's and have a nodule with an indeterminate biospy and they are often benign. So "Yay" for a little life jacket of hope being thrown my way. (I'm still a "Prepare for the Worst, Be Surprised by the Best" kind of gal, but maybe now with a little more hopeful thrown in.)

She will only remove my thyroid, not any lymph nodes, which is a relief, because that is a much harder surgery. She said if my lymph nodes look good on ultrasound, they are good. I can stop worrying about them for now.

I also discovered that what I thought was an enlarged lymph node is a salivary gland. It's weird because it gets bigger when I'm sick and the one on the right side of my neck has always been bigger than the one on the left - and it's definitely been enlarged in the past few months. But whatever it is, it's not a lymph node and it's not caused by cancer. So I can stop worrying about that too. (Whew.)

During the exam, she wanted to check the status of my vocal cords because the nerve that controls them has to be moved during thyroid surgery and she wants to compare their function pre and post surgery. So she pulled out this long wire thingie with a tiny camera on the end (a laryngoscope, as it turns out) and said she was going to stick it up my nose and down my throat!!

I didn't really have time to panic because 5 seconds later, it was going up my nostil. I gripped the armrests of the chair until my fingers turned white and I tried not to gag. OMG, it was not fun. It didn't hurt, it was just REALLY uncomfortable. (And also unexpected. I think that was part of it.)

She had me make some noises while it was in my throat and do some breathing stuff and then she pulled it out. Blech.

Then she said, "I don't think they gave you enough spray. It seemed like you could really feel that."

And I was all, "Spray??"

As it turns out, there's spray to make it more comfortable and keep you from gagging, but the nurse forgot to spray me. (Obviously, you can do it without spray, but next time around, I'll totally be making sure they spray me.) I think I'm traumatized for life.

Also, as it turns out, one of my vocal cords is already abnormal. (So here's hoping there's no damage during surgery.) This is most likely why I never made it on Broadway. Now I know!

My surgery date is December 13th. (And she did promise to use anesthesia for the actual surgery. Hooray for that.) I was a little bummed that it's more than a month away, but when I looked at my calendar, I realized that it's actually perfect timing for a lot of reasons. And if it is malignant and I need to do radiation, that's usually 6-8 weeks after surgery (with a few weeks of a pretty restricted low iodine diet beforehand). Radiation also requires isolation. With surgery on December 13th, I'll be able to make it through Christmas without having to worry about that.

She said to expect 3 bad days after surgery - sore throat, sore neck, yuck in my throat - and then it's not so bad. I'll have a 3 inch scar at the base of my neck which will eventually fade into my regular neck folds. I have plenty of those, so I don't see that being a problem.

I'm already amassing a pretty scarf collection.

I can't tell you how relieved I am to be going to a major research hospital. It was sort of a lucky fluke that I ended up there - they just happened to have the first available endocrinology appointment when I was desperately trying to find an endocrinologist. I feel like I am in the best, most experienced hands possible. When I look up the research on different things about thyroid biospies and surgery, a lot of the major studies were done right there.

So more waiting... but this time, I'm ok with it.

Thanks for thinking of me! Hopefully I'll be back to your regularly scheduled kid-insanity posts for awhile.