So we know Z has an anxiety issue. We got the official word on this about a year ago, and since then we’ve learned that his anxiety comes into play often. Very, very often.

Thunder storms? Oh yes.

Lightning? Yup.

Earthquakes? Our area that NEVER has earthquakes had one two years ago, so of course they are something to be worried about every day now because it’s clear you never know when an earthquake will happen. Could be any day. Any hour of any day.

Tornados? Z is convinced one of those will happen every time we have a thunder storm. Has he ever been in or near a tornado? No, but that doesn’t stop him from assuming one will happen with every rain storm.

And the house will split in half.

And fall down.

And they’ll be fire.

And all other bad things.

So yes, Z’s anxiety is part of our daily lives. Because you never know what is going to happen.

~~~

But anxiety over getting a hair cut?

Cutting Z’s hair has been a part of taking care of him that I didn’t put much thought into, and didn’t think would be stress inducing. When he was young I’d give him a buzz cut at home and be done with it. But with buzz cuts, you have to do them semi-often if you don’t want it growing out. Each buzz cut brought tears and screams and — what I know now — anxiety. At first I assumed he was being difficult. And sensitive. And impatient. And (truth be told) a pain in the butt about getting his hair cut. Though now I know that haircuts are difficult for him — with clipper or scissors. The clippers are the worst due to the noise. And the clippers touch his head. They touch every tiny part of his head, over and over, all the while making that annoying terrible no good loud noise. After switching to scissors-only haircuts, it was better, but buzz cuts weren’t possible with scissors, and Z preferred longer hair anyway since his goal is to have hair like Troy Polamalu. Troy is a football player on Z’s favorite professional football team. Z is obsessed with football — the game, the players, the coaches, the stadiums, the stats, … everything football — ergo, he’s obsessed with Troy’s hair. Here’s a photo of Troy and his hair (well, most of it fits in the photo), from this source:

Now, truth be told, I don’t think Z wants his hair like Troy’s because he loves long hair. No. I think it’s because Z thinks if his hair is that long he won’t have to ever cut it. No haircuts is his goal. He is wrong, because even if I let him grow it long, it still needs to be trimmed to stay neat. Z has a curl to his hair — to some of his hair — which results in uneven looking hair when left to grow on its own for weeks and weeks and months.

So, every once in a while, as infrequently as possible, to the hair cutting place we go. The first professional cut for Z’s hair was when he was maybe 5. I had done the buzz cuts at home myself, and then attempted cuts with scissors, semi-unsuccessfully, until I realized the poor boy needed a decent haircut by a professional. This solved some problems (the unprofessional looking haircuts I gave him) but created other problems (haircut anxiety).

Lots of anxiety.

~~~

Each time we go to the hair cutting place, I need to inform the stylist that they are not allowed to use clippers AT ALL. Not even to trim near his ears or on his neck. Rule #1: No clippers. Z will not sit in the seat until that piece of information is out in the open.

Rule #2: No products. Z has many allergies and most hair products contain oils and things derived from the things he’s allergic to.

Rules #3 – #1,748 come during the hair cut.

It’s best if they don’t comb his hair first, though of course they want to comb his hair before cutting it. No matter how much I instruct them kindly to please just cut the hair AS IS, they think they won’t be doing a good job unless they comb it first. Combing Z’s hair is not an experience for the sensitive soul. He screams as if you are slowly stabbing him with serrated knives. And he’s creative in these screams. Yesterday he didn’t just scream the high pitched blood curdling “AH…AH…AH…AH…AH…AH…AH…AH…” but he added in a few entertaining phrases, such as “STOP STOP STOP NOW STOP … MY HAIR IS NOT FLEXIBLE!” Not really sure what he was going for, maybe to say his hair wasn’t going to bend to the will of the comb. The poor girl gave Z the comb to do it himself, but that was of no use since Z never combs his own hair. Why would he? He hates all combs and brushes and avoids using them. So she had me try. Because his hair is longer and hadn’t been combed or brushed for a while, the knots were many, and the combing near impossible. I decided we should just give up and go home. But….

Z decided to continue with the haircut because his older brother home from college, Trout, was getting his hair cut at the same place at the same time (yup, that’s the secret of how I got Z to go there in the first place!). So he agreed to let the stylist comb his hair but only if she did it quickly and was gentle, and he said he’d try not to scream “even though that will be very hard to do because it hurts more than anything in the whole world ever.”

The haircut continued. I feel for the girl, because she tried her best, and was intent of doing a very good job, but Z moves way too much while his hair is being cut. Each time she tried to cut it straight in the back, he’d move and it would get uneven. I kept telling her it’s okay — keep going — it doesn’t have to be perfect — WE DON’T NEED PERFECT.

With each haircut Z surprises me. This time it was the bit about his hair not being flexible. Also, he insisted that he sit under the hooded hairdryer instead of going out with barely damp hair, or using the hand held hair dryer. I didn’t even know Z knew what those chairs in the back of the room with the big domes were for. By the time he asked to use that, the girl was more relaxed and I think she realized if she just did what he wanted, she’d get a good tip, uneven hair or not (smart girl). So Z sat under the hair dryer for 20 seconds. Then we left.

~~~

I’m thinking of drafting up instructions for the next time Z needs to get a haircut. It would be easier than attempting to communicate all this while the haircut is starting. What do you think?

THIS CHILD HAS HAIRCUT ANXIETY.

DO NOT USE CLIPPERS! NOT EVEN ONE LITTLE BIT FOR ONE SECOND.

USE SCISSORS ONLY.

NO PRODUCTS. WATER ONLY.

DO NOT COMB HIS HAIR UNLESS YOU ABSOLUTELY NEED TO, BUT YOU MUST WARN HIM FIRST AND YOU MIGHT AS WELL JUST ASK ME TO DO IT INSTEAD.

IF THE HAIR IS NOT STRAIGHT OR EVEN OR MATCHED ON BOTH SIDES, THAT’S OK!

CHANCES ARE HE WILL SCREAM. HE’S NOT HURT OR INJURED, JUST ANXIOUS. SMILE AND TELL HIM IT WILL BE OKAY, EVEN THOUGH HE WON’T BELIEVE YOU.

HE WILL MOVE HIS HEAD IN EVERY DIRECTION WHILE YOU ARE CUTTING, EVEN IF YOU TELL HIM ONE MILLION TIMES TO LOOK AT HIS FEET. DEAL WITH IT.

AT THE END HE GETS A GREEN LOLLIPOP. ONLY GREEN. PLEASE DO NOT BRIBE HIM WITH IT, BECAUSE HE’S GETTING ONE JUST FOR COMING IN HERE.

YOUR TIP IS BASED ON HOW WELL YOU FOLLOW THESE INSTRUCTIONS, NOT ON HOW PERFECT THE CUT IS.

P.S. I TIP WELL.

When I posted previously about gift ideas for a graduate to give his or her mom (you can find those posts here and here), I had no idea how popular this subject would be. Yet every day — EVERY SINGLE DAY — people get to this blog by searching online for this specific idea. I was going to list the search phrases, to give you an idea of what I see each day (because yes, I’m one of those bloggers that checks stats every single day), but when I copied them over to a word file in order to edit them, it covered 12 pages! Okay, they were double spaced, and there were some that didn’t fit in this theme exactly, so after deleting them and reducing the extra spaces I still ended up with 4 pages. Too much to copy and paste here, so you’ll have to trust me: every day there are many people that search online for a good gift to give their mom or dad (usually the search is for a gift for mom) when they graduate and go off to college.

My previous ideas included a photo book made out of the child’s school photos and artwork collected throughout their school years, and a coupon book for activities specific to the child and parent, to be used either while they are away at school (phone calls, skype, photos and texts) and some for when they come home on breaks (a breakfast date or movie night). Ideas suggested by others included a digital picture frame with the scanned photos and artwork, or an old-school mix tape of favorite songs that were special to the mom and child.

Lately it’s been bothering me that these ideas aren’t enough. I’ve been thinking and thinking and watching my daily stats and realizing that I need to come up with more ideas! It warms my heart to know that so many high school graduates are searching for a way to thank their parents. I want them to have lots of ideas so that they can find the perfect one for them. So this post will list a few additional items I think would be great gift ideas for a graduate to give to their parent. Some are specifically for giving to a mom, but there are a few that would be a great gift for dad as well.

~~~

But before I list the gift ideas, I’ve got a few things to say to the graduates:

First of all, you really are good and kind and thoughtful to consider your parent at this stage in your life, because yes, while a high school graduation is an exciting and busy time for you, and it’s the end of your childhood and the start of being a real grown up which comes with independence and adventure, you’re aware that for your parent this is the end of something big. Their baby is about to be off on her own. They not only see this special time as the start of something great, but as the ending of an amazing adventure. It’s a different perspective and I appreciate that you realize this. I’m thrilled that you are taking the time to acknowledge what your parent is going through. Speaking from my experience, your parent is most likely so happy for you and so very ecstatic knowing all that you’re about to experience. While at the same time I can tell you that it’s heartbreaking and emotional and sad. The child we’ve raised, the child who has depended on us for over 18 years, the child who we’ve tucked into bed and read to and helped cross the street and protected from monsters is now going off without us. What a roller coaster of emotions!!! We really are thrilled for you! And we’re really sad that you’re leaving. We’re up … and we’re down … we’re happy … and we’re sad. We want you to go and explore and to do and to learn and to grow, and to be independent and have amazing adventures! And we want you to snuggle on the sofa with us and stay in our arms forever so that we can protect you and keep you from harm and disappointment and failure. We need to let go, and we want to, and yet it’s hard. But we must. So we will. The fact that you are ready and able to go out into the big world — that you’re prepared for it — proves we’ve done a good job. But it’s still hard for us to watch you go. So thank you for your good and kind and thoughtful acknowledgement of what we’re going through. A gift for your parent will surely touch them deeply.

Secondly – and this is very important – a gift is not necessary. Yup. It’s true. Again, speaking from my experience, I don’t need a gift from my children to know that they love me and think of me and all that. I don’t need a gift when they graduate and I don’t need a Mother’s Day gift and I’m okay without one on my birthday as well. Do I enjoy getting gifts from my children? Sure I do. But I don’t need them. In my opinion, a store bought gift, one purchased without much thought or consideration, would be better left at the store. I’ve always been a believer of “it’s the thought that counts”. Instead of a gift, when my children give me their time and their attention, well, that means more to me than something they picked up at the store simply because they felt they had to get me something. With this in mind, please know that in this case — the giving of a gift to a parent when you are graduating from high school — it really is the thought that counts. I suggest you don’t purchase a gift just because you think you should. I truly believe that to us parents, we’re not interested in a token of your appreciation as much as we are in the memory of your childhood.

~~~

With that in mind, here are some suggestions that prove it’s the thought that counts. The following are personal and semi-crafty suggestions. Not crafty? Don’t worry … you can do this! Don’t be afraid!

• A handwritten letter, or poem, or short note. Put pen to paper. Tell your thoughts and your dreams and your memories. Use nice paper and your best handwriting. Put time and effort into telling your parent what is on your mind and in your memory. What are some of your favorite childhood memories? Chances are your favorites are not your parent’s favorites. They’d appreciate hearing your view of that funny vacation from when you were 12, or what it was like for you when a major family event took place, or why the book they read to you over and over as a child was so special to you. Your parent has wonderful memories from your childhood. Being able to weave those memories together with your memories would be a very personal gift indeed.
• Take a poem you’ve written (see above), or a favorite poem, or a quote from a book or movie or song, and paint it on a canvas. First paint the canvas a solid color, then using another color or permanent markers, write the words. This is inexpensive yet personal. A canvas at the craft store is less than $10, and a small jar of craft paint is about a dollar, and that’s all you need, along with a few hours of time. Another idea is to skip the canvas and paint, and using a good pen write the words on nice paper, then simply put the paper into a pretty frame. Easy and thoughtful and personal. Something that can be kept forever. *Updated to add: here’s another way to get the poem or quote onto canvas, and takes a bit more time and supplies, but with an awesome result…. click here for instructions.
• When my oldest went away to college, for Christmas that year he gave me the best present he’s ever given me: pictures of himself smiling. The boy hasn’t smiled for a camera since he was eight. So to be given a disc with dozens of photos — my choice to pick my favorite — and him smiling in each one, well, let me tell you how emotional that made me. That right there was a gift of love. And again, not expensive. He knew a friend of a friend who loved photography so she took the photos and I think it only cost my son the price of her lunch. I used one picture on my computer for the screen saver, printed one in a 4×6 size for my nightstand, and another larger on for the living room. Best.Give.Ever.
• I love photos. I love displaying family pictures throughout the house. Nothing on my walls is purchased art. I have family photos and pictures of places we’ve been, and maps and fabric canvases. Adding something like the following idea, for my walls, would be a great gift for me. Maybe your parent would appreciate it also. As an example I took a photo from when my daughter was young, a favorite fun photo of mine, and copied it four times. I opened each one in photo editing software that is on my computer (nothing fancy or specially purchased) and used the color tool to make each picture a different color. Copying the four into one document it could be printed on 8×10 photo paper and framed. Or, each one could be printed in a 4×6 or 5×7 or even 8×10 size, then grouped together on the wall. Willing to spend more money? Send them off to be made onto canvases. I’ve used a few companies for this and have been pleased with all of them (even the ones made at the photo center in my local drug store). One company that is a favorite of mine is CanvasLifestyle. If you sign up for their emails, they send out specials often.  Here is an example of the one I made from my daughter’s photo, to give you an idea. It would put a smile on my face each time I looked at it.

~~~

Okay, so you want to spend money and not try being crafty? Sure! I’ve got ideas for you:

•  I’m a Jane Austen fan (I won’t go so far as to say I was Jane in a prior life, but you never know). HUGE Jane Austen fan, so an item with a quote from one of her books would be a great gift for me. For example, this could work as a gift to a mom who also loves Jane Austen (from here, on etsy):  
• Or from this etsy shop, this key ring: 
• Does your mom like jewelry? Does she like birds? Here is a suggestion for necklaces that would make a lovely gift…. one for her, one for you! (Again, found on etsy …. link here.)
• Or, from this etsy shop: 
• Or this necklace, again from an etsy shop (hint: This one is a favorite of mine. My dear daughter who graduates next year…. Are you reading this????? Take note please!): 
• Do you and your parent cook together? Matching aprons!
• Does your parent have a favorite book? Purchase a copy (hardcover would be nice) and write something thoughtful inside the front cover. Trout did this for me recently, and I keep that book on my bedside table. Each time I see it — not only when I read it — I think of him. And when I miss his very much, I open it up to read what he wrote.

~~~

Dear readers: I encourage you to add your ideas in the comments section. It is clear from the searches made that many wonderful young graduates are looking for gift suggestions. I would love to hear what ideas you have! Thanks!

And to you graduates, congratulations! You have given me — and others who read this blog — hope for the future. You have proven that the next generation are kind, caring, sensitive, and thoughtful. We wish you well on your search for the perfect gift for your parent, and on your next adventure … college!

Fall is my favorite season. No doubt about it. The cool temperatures and the beautiful leaves as they change into, well, into the colors of fall. Wearing sweaters and boots and long sleeve shirts — actually, anything other than a t-shirt or bathing suit is ideal for me — yet still no need for a heavy jacket nor gloves. Yup, fall is the best!

My next favorite is winter. Because I enjoy snow and the crisp beauty of winter. Also, I’d much rather be cold than hot.

Third on the list is spring. What I don’t like about spring are the allergies I get from all the pollen. Spring is beautiful, for sure, but where I live spring is short. Very, very short. This year it seems spring lasted about six hours. We went from a snow day two weeks ago, to nearly 90 degrees this week. Somewhere within that time we had a few hours of 60 degrees. Spring in Virginia. That’s what you get. Take it or leave it.

The good news is that the trees and plants have to deal with their springtime rituals, even if there is snow or sweltering heat. As soon as the snow melted and the temps started rising, the trees and plants went to work. In order to get these pictures, I had to endure blazing sun and 85 degree weather. But I did it for the sake of art. I have two walls in my office/craft room/son’s homework room that have photos I’ve taken enlarged and framed or printed on large canvases. At least one of the photos below will be chosen to add to the walls.

I’d love your input. Which is your favorite?

~~~

 

*Edited to add another photo (it seems my favorite one didn’t post yesterday). Here it is:

I think everyone knows that kids go through awkward stages at some point in their childhoods. What I didn’t know is that I’d have an awkward stage at my “advanced” age.

For the past few months, nothing seems to work right.  Not my hair nor my clothes nor my attitude or anything. I feel awkward. Nothing feels right. Things are just “off” and no matter what I’ve done, I can’t set them right. Sigh.

Oh my hair. It looks like crap no matter how it is cut or what shampoo I use. It’s really bad … really, really bad. Now, I’ve struggled with my hair since I was a teenager — it never has done what I wanted it to do — but then, as I got older and wiser, I realized I needed to let my hair do what it does best (which is to hang straight except for the one part of my bangs where it flips to the side) and cut and style it accordingly. That worked for a long time, until the past few months. Now I do the same routine and cut it the same, yet the results are so different. Also, the color I put on it lately (which has been the same for years) has not helped to make me look better. I’ve even had one person tell me it made me look worse (thanks oh so very much you who thinks constructive criticism about my personal appearance is helpful).

And my clothes (or should I say, my body in clothes). I can not find clothes that fit well. I’m either too big for one size or too small for the next. Styles that look great on a 30 year old make me look like I’m trying to be a teenager again. Clothes that do fit me, when I find them, make me look like a more mature women — they age me at least 20 years. Socks really are the only things I’ve purchased lately because they’re all that fits. But I can’t rightly go around in just socks, unfortunately.

I know hormones are playing a big part right now — I’m well into menopause. As I told a younger friend: Everything you’ve heard about menopause is true. Everything. It’s not just night sweats or hot flashes. It can take over every aspect of your life. Including your hair, your body and your attitude.

And that’s what’s happening with me. But I’m not sure if my attitude problem is due to the hormones/life changes, or if it’s because of how terrible I look and feel about myself due to those hormones and changes to my body. Either way, it’s not a fun time.

But today I’ve found one thing that might make me feel a bit better. Well, two things. Firstly, I will dye my hair AGAIN. But a better color. Something different and edgy. I’ve done red before (ages ago), and it may be time to do that again. Or blue. Heck, I’m getting older, people expect old women to have blue hair, right? Kidding…. but maybe not. A nice dark blue could be super cool. Or not.

Secondly, to feel better and to hopefully change my attitude, I’ve realized a new purse is just the ticket (I think that’s because I’ve finally got enough socks). I started shopping for one today — an orange one — and even though I didn’t find the perfect one yet, it gave me such happiness, and I will keep shopping until I find it. Yes, a new purse will help.

Now I’m wondering if red hair and an orange purse is the way to go. Hmmmmm….. Probably not.

What I’m going through makes me have much more sympathy now for the older women I’ve seen throughout the years who wore super colorful outfits or who made strange hair color choices. I get it. I so get it. I’m right there with ya, ladies.

So if you see me soon and I’ve got shocking red hair and a large orange purse, just smile. I haven’t lost my mind, I’m just going through an awkward phase.

And I’m crossing my fingers that this phase is over very, very soon.

Note: For the two of you that followed my old blog, you may remember this post. I’m posting it again because I think about this during March each year. I’ve made a few updates because after looking at it again and again and again, some things just needed to be changed. 

 

***

November 22nd

December 11th … or was it the 15th?

March 23rd

January 24th

***

Some of those due dates are easier to remember than others. Even for the most recent one, Z’s due date, I have to do a little math. He was a scheduled C-section two weeks and one day before his due date. The doctor said it was not advised to do the C-section earlier than two weeks before the due date, and two weeks brought us to January 10th, but LH’s dad had passed away just three months earlier and his birthday was the 9th of January. So with tears in my eyes I begged the doctor to do the surgery one day earlier than he wanted to. There was no worry about the health of the baby — I grow them big, and I grow them fast. Now Z shares his birthday with the grandfather he’ll never know.

Jane’s due date is something I just can’t remember. Could have been December 11th or the 15th, but for some reason it might have been the 22nd. That date rings a bell as well. That whole pregnancy is a blur… in a bad way.

Trout’s due date I’ll never forget. LH and I had our first date on November 23rd. One year later our first child was due the day prior to that, November 22nd. Crazy to look back and realize we celebrated our first date anniversary as newlyweds and with a newborn!

March 23rd. That one I remember very well. March 23, 2002 was the due date for our 3rd child (this was 4 years before Z). Our child that didn’t make it. A miscarriage. You know that expression “feels like yesterday”? Yes, that, exactly.

Here is the poem I wrote weeks after the miscarriage.

***

I want to go to Ireland

                                                                                                                      .

They say Ireland is close to heaven

Close to you

Some don’t know that I’ve lost you

Some say that you never were 

But you were here

Here within me

.

I would sit high up on a rocky cliff

Thinking of you

Talking to you

Singing to you with the crashing waves

You would hear me and join in

We would be one again

.

This would be our secret

Together as one

Knowing we will meet one day

Face to face

You in my arms

Me singing to you

 

***

A few notes with some background info about the making of this poem:

My mom’s grandmother, who raised her, and all her other relatives came from Ireland. While I was growing up all things Irish were discussed often … Ireland’s beauty and mystery and leprechauns and rainbows with pots of gold and fields of green and potatoes and family, and Irish blessings and sayings and prayers. Those ideas and images and thoughts and words have been in my head since I was born.

During the time I wrote the poem above, I listened often to a CD from an Irish band. My favorite song had such a beautiful, yet haunting sound to it, with a lovely female voice in the background singing in Gaelic. That song — which I played on continuous repeat one day as I cried while mourning the loss of my child — inspired me thinking about Ireland, and it brought up thoughts of the country, as well as my stored bits and pieces that I heard of while growing up.

The idea of going to Ireland felt safe and comforting and right and good. “Ireland is close to heaven.” I had heard that so often. That’s where I needed to be. I felt being there would surely bring me peace. I would be where half of my family began and closer to the child I lost.

I have never visited Ireland, though when I do (for I will), my first stop will be at the top of a cliff overlooking the water, listening to the waves crash. If you find me there, I shall be singing.

Posting a quick “hi!” because that’s all I have time for.

Z is doing so very well since the surgery. We have the post-op appointment later this week, and I’m sure the doctor will agree that all went well and life should return to normal soon (and by “normal” I mean before all the sickness that had become our new normal, so the “old normal” is what I’m hoping for).

The way life has been these past few months has made it difficult for me to have the time to read other blogs as often as I’d like to, but I think I’m caught up now. Weddings! Babies! More babies!!!! Organized closets! New clothes! So many good and exciting things!

The clothing and organizational posts have inspired me to clean my closet and drawers. Today I did my sock drawer. It was the perfect way to start this massive task. Recently I’ve purchased a lot of fun, colorful, striped socks. When all the pants and shirts and skirts that I try on don’t fit or don’t flatter, I buy socks. And now all my new wonderful and perfectly sized socks live in an organized drawer with dividers. Might be the only place in my house that’s organized right now, but it’s a start. Tomorrow I attack my pajamas! Sounds simple, but I’m the type person that keeps every old t-shirt and sweatshirt to use as sleepwear. I have too many and I tend to wear the same few over and over (and with the hot flashes that have so kindly come into my life, those sweatshirts are definitely not needed). I was inspired reading one blog where the woman had such limited closet space she only kept what she enjoyed wearing and only purchased items that would add to what she had (and that she’d wear weekly). That hit home for me. I have too much that I don’t wear. Not just unused pajamas, but blouses and pants that just don’t make me feel (or look) good. Time to pass them on to someone else and free up the space in the closet for what I do wear. And I can’t just purchase a shirt because it’s on sale and/or it fits or I like the color. If I don’t need it, or have nothing to wear with it, it will only take up space that could be used for items I’ll wear more often.

Wow, that’s way more than I intended to write about my clothing and closets!

So anyway, all is well here. And hopefully I’ll be back to talk about other things — more important things — soon.

You know when you’re filling out forms online — earthshatteringly important financial stuff — and at the end you have to confirm that all the info you entered is true and correct to the best of your knowledge? And then you hit the enter button and go on your way, right? Well, this is the week I had to do a few of those type forms, and on the most important one I lost my mind and went ahead and agreed that the info was right and correct and complete BEFORE IT WAS RIGHT AND CORRECT AND COMPLETE. It took a few hours to fill out the entire form, and near the beginning I didn’t have some information, so I left those fields blank, with the intention of coming back to them later, but then forgot about them until AFTER hitting the final enter button. But guess what? The authorities did not came knocking on my door! Yahoo! And yes, I went back in a few hours later to update the blank fields, but the system said I couldn’t update anything until after it had been processed which might take a few days, putting me PAST THE DEADLINE for the “final” version of this form. Oh well, I tried. What more could I do? So maybe this error could cost us over $6000, and maybe this is not the year for a $6000 error since stupid congress has decided to cut LH’s salary by almost 20%. And yes, I lost some sleep over this and then tried again to update the info this morning even though the website said to wait three days and it had only been one and thankfully it allowed me to do the updates and now it is complete and correct BEFORE the final deadline. Phew. Crisis averted. And from now on I will not hit the button confirming all is correct under penalty of death without first making sure that it truly is correct. And I will make large notes if I need to skip a section on such a form. Very large poster size notes. And I will not attempt to complete important financial forms WITH ZERO CAFFEINE IN MY SYSTEM. What was I thinking??????? Giving up caffeine is serious. Giving up caffeine and doing important tasks is quite foolish. Coffee beans should come with a warning label saying that you should not operate heavy machinery or complete financial documents without the aid of said coffee beans if your daily routine usually includes said coffee beans. And I like caffeine. There. I said it. I enjoy coffee. The smell and the taste. I don’t want to give it up. I don’t need to be a caffeine free woman. I’ve been happy being a caffeinated person for decades, so why stop now? When I was coming off my one day caffeine withdrawal I couldn’t get enough caffeine. I even opened up a Coke — which I never ever do anymore — and it was delicious and addictive and cold and refreshing and full of sugar therefore giving me feelings of guilt because with the first cup of coffee after my one caffeine free day I also ordered a cinnamon roll to go with the large coffee, and when you add a soda to that fattening and sugary pastry, well, I was angry with myself for eating so terribly, all while bouncing off the walls. So yes, coffee good. Pastry bad. Soda bad. I’m back to my one  cup (or two) of coffee a day (cream, no sugar) and very happy again, thank you very much. And tomorrow is Z’s surgery and I know all will be well even though not all may be well. He’ll come through the surgery fine — the risks are minimal — though what bothers me is that to really address his problems only time will tell if the surgery is enough. He really needs more extensive surgery, but they don’t want to do too much since he’s just a little boy. The more extensive surgery comes with more risks (blindness, brain issues, infections, nerve damage, etc.) so of course I agreed to do the minimum (and it wasn’t really up to me anyway, since they weren’t even considering the more extensive surgery because that wouldn’t be ethical, or something along those lines, so really I was just nodding my head agreeing that of course we won’t do what we can’t do, or something like that), hoping it will be enough to clear up the other major issues, in time. Sort of like … well … not sure what it’s sort of like. I was going to say popping a balloon with a tiny pin prick so that the air comes out slowly and easily rather than with a loud bang, but that isn’t quite right. Anyhoo… surgery for a child with anxiety problems is tricky. I need to tell him enough to not surprise him, but not enough to worry him too much, which is impossible because he worries too much about everything anyway. He’s worried he won’t fall asleep and therefore he’ll feel what they do (we’ve explained they won’t start until he’s fully asleep) and he’s worried he’ll wake during the procedure (the doctor explained very clearly and at Z’s level how there’s one person in the operating room solely there to make sure that situation does not happen, and what he/she will do if they think it might happen). Z has been having nightmares about all this. He’s been starting his little repetitive behaviors again because of this. His imaginary friends have come back to stay because of this. But… I know by this time tomorrow it will be better. The procedure will be over and he’ll be on the road to not being sick all the time. And hopefully they won’t need to do more extensive surgery. And hopefully he won’t need another antibiotic, because his body reacted so poorly to the last one, and to the one before that, and the one before that. And I hope he doesn’t freak out when they give him pop-cycles, because he hates pop-cycles and they told me they will try to give him pop-cycles because they will help to keep him hydrated and to comfort his sore mouth. And I hope having LH home the next two days is more of a help than a bother. Usually when we’re both home taking care of a sick child (usually this only happens when Z gets sick in the middle of the night, and that timing might be a huge factor in the problem) we don’t work well together.  I hope as we take care of Z that we can work well together and not snap at each other. Only time will tell on that one, too.

So there you go … the thoughts in my head from the week so far.

Seems like weeks since I’ve posted, yet it’s only been a bit over a week.

Z is better (thank you all so much for your concern and thoughts and comments and emails!).  His surgery is scheduled for the 14th and though it won’t be fun for any of us (child with anxiety + surgery = stress), it will help the situation so it’s worth doing. His month long antibiotics finished and guess what? No really, guess. Stopping that medicine made him worse? Nope. His fever returned? Only for one day. He ended up back in the ER? Wrong! Get this: He got better after stopping the big old strong kill-the-bacteria and steroid meds. He ended up at school two days last week! {la la la… I’m singing and doing a small little happy dance!}

Today is a snow day, just when my area thought we were past any possible snow days this year. Yesterday my car registered an outdoor temperature of 55 degrees, and today we’re all home enjoying snow, hot cocoa, cookies, music, and family time. Where I live you just never know what the weather will be from one day to the next (and usually not from one hour to the next).  We never know what weather is around the bend, and the people here never handle any of it well — the snow is either too much or not enough, the heat in the summer is always too unbearable though it’s exactly what they requested back in January, and the rain is never enough, except when it’s too much. It’s days like today that I’m glad my area cancels school for any sort of white stuff (there’s a decade’s old joke that they’d cancel snow if a baby powder truck overturned on the highway). I’m very glad to have a day off with everyone home (husband was scheduled to work from home anyway and oldest son is home for spring break from college). No schedules. No worries of is-Z-well-enough-for-school-or-should-he-stay-home-AGAIN. Eye doctor and dentist appointments were canceled (doing another happy dance). My daughter is enjoying spending the afternoon baking and we are all enjoying the results of her afternoon baking! Yes, it’s a nice day. A well-deserved nice day.

I’m sure you’ve all have had days when you have to check the calendar to find out if it’s Wednesday or Thursday or possibly Monday, right? And usually a quick glance to determine if it’s still February while you’re at it? That’s what the past few weeks have been like for me. Most days lately I would be lucky if I knew what time it was as well — and whether it was AM or PM. A sick child, a sick self, enormous amounts of prescription and over-the-counter medicines, nebulizer treatments, lack of sleep, fevers, coughs, tissues, etc etc etc …. turns your life upside down and everything is out of whack.

But things are finally settling down a bit. And I know this: Today is Thursday. And it is morning, and, well, today Z is at school for the first time in two weeks. I am so thankful he’s over the flu. And thankful his fevers are gone. And thankful he wants to go to school. He’s enjoyed being home with me, I know that, but he’s also missed being in school. He loves the routine and the environment of school. He loves being around the other kids and seeing his favorite teachers.

And even though the super protective me wants him to stay home longer, to protect against another virus which could cause another fever which would put off the sinus surgery he has scheduled for later this month, he needs to go to school now that he can. The doctor has agreed he should go if he feels up to it, and that we can’t put him in a bubble (though I think this option should be looked into seriously). Chances are he’ll get another virus before the surgery. If so, we’ll deal with it, as we’ve dealt with all the other viruses he’s had starting back in September, when this whole thing began.

So things are settling down a bit, but not everything settles as it was to begin with. It’s not like we’re starting back where we left off — not in regards to Z’s health or the state of my house or anything really. I’ve not been able to even go grocery shopping in weeks (thankful for LH and Jane who have done these errands while I stayed with Z). Meal plan? Nope, haven’t done that in ages. I barely remember the last meal I cooked. In addition to the house and food situation, I haven’t seen many of my friends in weeks (months?). And the last time I volunteered at the school seems like ages ago.

Without knowing how much time I have — the school could call at any time to say Z isn’t feeling well and I’ll need to pick him up — I’m going to try to do a few things for myself, to feel better and to do what I’ve neglected for so long. First off, a nice nap. I’ll have the phone on the loudest volume in case a call comes in, but I must get some sleep, so that’s first priority. Then maybe a haircut tomorrow and hopefully in the next few days I’ll color my hair. I have a decent amount of gray right now, and I’m okay with gray, though I feel better about my appearance when I break out a box of  hair color. The last time I colored my hair, or got a hair cut, was months and months ago. I look so shabby and unkempt and, well, tired. A nap, a haircut and hair color should help with all that. But for right now, this morning, today, I’ll settle for a nap.

Let’s hope things do settle down around here. Let’s hope this is the start of calm days (and weeks and months) ahead. Please.

Remember that post from just hours ago about health issues?  Well, Z and I just got back from spending a few hours at the emergency room.

Z has a severe sinus issue and will be having surgery in 2 1/2 weeks to fix it, but today was a terrible day, and it ended in the ER. At first I thought it was due to complications from the sinus issue but turns out I was wrong. He has the flu. Yup. On top of all that poor child has gone through, and will go through, he has the flu.

I’m not posting this for sympathy or anything like that, I  just need to tell you all one thing: My son is an amazing person.

During the ER visit, he stole the hearts of every person he came in contact with. I kept hearing things like:

“What a polite boy!”

“He’s so nice!”

“I wish all our patients were like this one.”

“Oh my… I love this boy.”

“This makes my night.”

***

What behavior warranted these responses?

He raised his hand to ask questions.

He asked thoughtful questions.

He considered each question thoughtfully and answered very specifically and very clearly.

He thanked each person who dealt with him. Many times.

As we were leaving, he called out with a wave, “Thank you! Thank you all!”

And he told me, “My other doctors are nice, but these doctors are the nicest ever” as we were leaving.  The attending doctor just happened to be around the corner and heard him as we walked out.

***

I love this boy, no doubt about that. He is sweet and compassionate and kind and loving. He is sick, but he will be better. But no matter what — sick or well — this child is a priceless treasure and I am so proud of him and so happy to be his mom.