Update, short. More later

For all three people who read my blog, I realize I haven't updated in a long while. Here's the short form and I'll post more later:

1. Feeling very depressed. Obsessing over Mom a lot.

2. Got pregnant.

3. Felt better, hardly obsessed over Mom at all.

4. Planted huge vegetable garden, very excited.

5. Had a miscarriage.

6. Felt awful all over again.

7. Got list of therapists, started feeling a little better again.

8. Going on vacation in Ogunquit in 14 days.

Rock on, folks.

The things that stick with you.

I'm part of an online group that a friend of mine started a number of years back, made up of friends of hers and then she invited us to invite friends of ours, sort of a yay-women sort of thing. Anyway, there's sporadic activity on the group, usually the only time people post is when they have some news. It's a nice enough group, if a bit boring from time to time as the group keeps things fairly light and non-challenging. There have been a few people with health problems and the like, which are always sad, and everyone could band together to give them support. In general, I've had a positive experience there.

Well, not really, I just didn't realize it. I really don't feel like going into details, but it came to a head this weekend and resulted pretty much in my being targeted by multiple people and ripped apart. I will say that I am eternally grateful for my friend Mary, who was the only person to stand up for me and I appreciate it. Everyone else who weighed in made me feel more or less like a useless piece of shit. That sucked.

The long and the short of it was that a couple of people felt judged by things I was saying on the list (gee, where has that happened before? :). The ironic thing is that, unlike here, I was REALLY careful to only relate my personal experience and opinions and I never (well, at least I thought I never) said anything to disparage another person's decisions. Ranting senselessly in my own journal is one thing, posting to a list is another. Yet apparently people felt threatened anyway. I seriously have posted to this list maybe six or seven times a year, mostly because I had nothing to add about hair products or vacation locations.

Which would be fine, except this one chick decided to open a can of whoop-ass on me and relate her opposition to everything I've said over the past three years. Um, hello? What the hell? Seriously, if someone has an issue, I'd really like to just know about it so I can hear their perspective, take my foot out of my mouth and apologize if necessary, and most importantly learn to temper the way I present myself so I don't offend people in the future.

I'll be the first to admit I step in it up to my knee fairly often. I'll also be the first to look at my own actions and make a change, I'm not afraid of admitting I'm wrong. Yet it just seems colossally hypocritical for someone to accuse me of being judgmental, then drag out their laundry list of gripes that's three years long, adding in some cruel personal attacks at the same time. Who's judging who here? I mean, I might come off like a major ass sometimes, but at least I'm honest and at least there's no question as to how I feel about something.

Anyway. I went home on Friday after some of this went down and told myelf not to worry about it, that it didn't matter, that she didn't know me. Yet I obsessed about it all weekend and it made me feel majorly depressed. I think I slept 85% of the weekend, which was annoying to me, and also incredibly unfair to Michael as he had to do a lot of work from home this weekend for this gargantuan project he's finishing up and I wasn't there like I should have been. The house was a wreck until Sunday night when I started feeling marginally better and stopped thinking about the shit this chick had said to me and could actually do more than sit on the couch reading a book or sleeping.

Michael could even tell something was up, from Friday night onward he asked me multiple times if I was all right. At one point he asked me, "I'm worried that you're thinking about something and it's making you sad." Score one for the husby, he certainly knows me better than anyone. I denied it, simply because I didn't want to feel humiliated all over again having to relate the whole story back to him.

I did manage to take the kidlet out to the playground on Saturday so Michael could have some quiet time at the house, and I hoped that would energize me enough to keep me running. It wasn't. When I got him home I gave him some lunch and put him down for a nap, then just lay down with him and went to sleep, too. Which would have been fine and good except once I was asleep, I didn't want to get up and Michael had to watch kidlet after he got up from his nap instead of working. I think I was the worst mother ever this weekend.

I hate that people think I'm judging them when I'm honestly trying to put my ideas out there. I like to tell myself that it's because they're insecure about something in their own life, because I get that way myself, and they're lashing out at me. But I do honestly wonder - am I judging people? I don't *think* I am, but at the same time would I know it if I were? I just don't know. It makes me feel incredibly insecure and like I should withdraw and not share any of myself with anyone. In the case of this group, I feel like I've been pretty open in sharing with them, the very personal decisions I have made and the things I do, and by doing so I've just given them lots and lots of ammunition to later throw in my face when I'm least expecting it.

I mean, this chick even went off on me because I posted a picture of kidlet's nursery and said something about not liking Elmo! This was BEFORE kidlet was born! Come on! She said, "What did Elmo ever do to you, anyway?" I'm glad I never told her I hate onions, who knows what she would have had to say about that.

Anyway, the moral of the story is this: People suck. Sharing with people you don't know very well will inevitably make you feel like shit.

Because after all is said and done, no matter how I feel about how things went down with the group and whether or not anyone was to blame, I feel like shit. I get in this morning and (stupidly) check my email and this same chick felt the need to make some comments about my husband. That made me feel worse. I've never even met this person in my life. I've never made any comments about her or her family, but the things I've said about my beliefs were enough for her to feel threatened and lash out at me. That feels shitty.

Shitty shit shit. That's how I feel and I'm not sure how to go about dealing with it.

High

My review went great! Sure, I've only been here five months, but they scheduled me in with everyone else as the annual review time is generally in January, I think, and it got pushed forward due to the acquisition late last year.

Want to read it? I need to send some of my good review juju over to A'ishah - here you go, girl. I think you're all these things, and more.



Part I - Objectives and Accomplishments

Objective: 30 Day Web Developer Expectations - Above Average
Accomplishment: Jen came up to speed far ahead of the 30 day time table and has demonstrated high quality effort and work.

Objective: 60 Day Web Developer Expectations - Above Average
Accomplishment: Jen has mastered most of these items, but is still waiting on client specific cases to practice her knowledge and complete her training. She has taken a great initiative to seek out training from others to round out her skillset.

Objective: 90 Day Web Developer Expectations - Above Average
Accomplishment: Jen has demonstrated an above average grasp of [Application], especially given her time on the job. She was ready for her first implementation at 60 days, officially completing her 90 Day Objective in two thirds the allotted time.

Part II - Performance Characteristics

Teamwork: 5 / 5
Strong team player. Regularly conveys good ideas and opinions to the team. Has a positive impact on the team dynamics. Adds many complementary skills to the team.
Comments: Jen is a great team player and she brings a lot of humor and warmth to the team.

Customer Focus: 5 / 5
Considers customers to be a priority, and works closely with them to identify and anticipate their needs. Maintains frequent communication with the customer to set realistic expectations. Consistently ensures that their needs and expectations are met.
Comments: In so far as her "clients" are mainly her coworkers at this time, she has done a great job communicating on all aspects of the job description.

Initiative: 5 / 5
Consistently takes the initiative to resolve problems with minimal assistance from management. Has taken on new responsibilities, and acted on opportunities.
Comments: Jen has done a great job of trying to be self reliant and resourceful while at the same time asking pertinent and appropriate questions. Her willingness to hop in on the [Company Website] redesign has been a boon to the team.

Interpersonal Skills: 5 / 5
Excellent interpersonal skills. Always deals with others in a pleasant and respectful manner. Displays sensitivity to the needs and concerns of others.
Comments: Jen has displayed extraordinary interpersonal skills and is a joy to work with.

Communication: 5 / 5
Always expresses facts and ideas clearly, in a credible manner. Always uses an appropriate tone. Displays excellent judgment as to what information should be communicated. Listens to others, and elicits feedback.
Comments: None

Part III - Overall Summary of Performance

Summary of Performance: Given the short time she has been with us, Jen has done a great job of getting up to speed in the Web Development space, and I look forward to working with her in the coming year. I also look forward to her bringing her unique skillset to bear on our team and help the Web Developers better perform in the coming year.

Part IV - New Objectives

(Objectives are the usual "reach high and be polite" stuff. In meeting with them, I discussed getting a list of goals and objectives tailored to my position and experience, and was assured that these are going to be developed in coming weeks.)

Part V - Development Plan

SQL Training
Help Jen improve her SQL Server 2000 skillset.

VB.Net Training
Help Jen improve her VB.Net and .Net coding skills.

[Application] Training
Provide Jen with continued training in [Application] to ensure she has a complete and thorough understanding of all its functionality.



I don't know why I get so nervous during reviews, I mean, I had an idea that it would be largely positive due to my 1-on-1s with my manager and our new Director, but it's always nervewracking getting it all down on paper.

I was told by both of them that I am doing a fantastic job and they're really looking to help me develop professionally not only for what is best for the company, but also working toward my personal goals in regards to my career. There was some strong hinting at project leadership and assisting to train new folks - both of these things are good, since right now I'm not sure where I want to go, whether it just be making my brain bigger on the technology side or moving towards a management role, but it seems like they are keeping this path open for me should I choose it.

I was also told that I bring a lot of positive energy and enthusiasm to the team, and that made me glad as I have been trying to make a good impression. I have been insanely satisfied and happy with my job the five months I've been here (five months already?!) and it shows, I guess. I said that I was very glad with how things have been going so far, that I enjoyed working with everyone on the team and I felt I was learning a lot.

So, that's it, in a nutshell. I am half tempted to black out the company name and application specifics and mail this to my craptastic old manager, Christine. I keep hoping I'll see her in public so I can flip her off.

:)

Entry two, Thursday edition.

Last night we took Katie out to Vinny T's for her birthday, and I gave her the two gifts I got for her from some talented folks on Etsy. She really liked the presents, it made me happy. Here's what I got her:

This Bag:


and This Necklace:


Dinner, of course, was awesome. I love Vinny T's and have never had a bad meal there.

I asked the waitress to have the bored-looking staff come over and sing "Happy Birthday" in Italian to her, and even though they were surly and unenthused Katie got a free piece of cake out of the deal. She got the Chocolate Bomba, which she shared with kidlet. I didn't mind if she did as he doesn't have sweets all that often, and frankly I'd rather he have something made fresh in a restaurant than some mass-produced chemical-filled candy. Regardless, I knew we had about 15 minutes after he finished eating before he went ballistic.

I took him to the bathroom to change his diaper and get him washed up, and laughed when I saw that that daycare staff had written "MICHAEL NEEDS DIAPERS PLEASE!" in purple marker on the front of his disposable diaper. Ha! He looked down and said, "That Michael's name!" and pointed to it. Um, yeah! Someone just went through another development phase, it seems.

The remainder of the time we were in the restaurant (it wasn't long) kidlet started getting really wound up. He was running away from us and generally showing off to other patrons. Fortunately there were lots of other families in there so he was met with smiles, but I was very concerned about his running the wrong way and tripping up one of the staff. We managed to reign him in and got out of there.

After dinner we took kidlet over to the Maine Mall to run around and blow off some steam before the ride home. We found a store that sells beanbags (and really nice ones! I want one!) where the kidlet had a grand time jumping on them. I also saw a husband and wife with their three children, the youngest in a sling on her chest, fast asleep. I risked being "that creepy woman" by going over to chat with her. I complimented her on her gorgeous baby and found out he was two months old (!). We chatted for a few minutes as the three kids formed a gang and started playing together. It's so nice to see kidlet become comfortable with strange children so quickly. What a lovely little family. I wish there were more people living around us like that in our town.

I usually don't buy stupid mass-produced Made in China junk, but this particular item was too hard to resist:



I let kidlet see how it worked and now he points to pictures of birds and asks me if they have babies that come out of their butt. Ha!

They also had animals with brown bubbles that came from their butts, which were also quite funny but it was possible to pull the brown stuff out so I didn't get one. The last thing I wanted was for kidlet to get his hands on it and I'd discover him chewing something. As it is, egg-laying rubber chicken is staying zipped inside my bag or at work where he can't get to it.

Did you know there is also a Pooping Santa and Pooping Snowman? I had no idea.

Kidlet fell asleep in the car on the way home and I was able to knit as fast as I could on the second baby sock for Baby Katy. I want to get them done as I have some gorgeous sock yarn that I've been itching to get started on for a pair for myself!

Want to see it? I know you do... ;)





I can't remember if I've shown that off already, but there you go.

I got a couple of inches of sock done by the time we got home, yay! Kidlet woke up as I was getting him out of the car, but was very good while I got things settled and changed him into jammies. He wanted to read some books, picking up one about Clifford saying, "This one my favorite!" He loves having favorites these days, he'll pick something out of a picture or see an item in the store and say, "This one my favorite!" So cute.

After a couple of readings of Clifford's Happy Easter I convinced Michael that we should bring the books to bed with us. My idea was that I could knit while he read and ultimately he would fall asleep. We tucked ourselves into bed and read Clifford again, then What can Pinky see? and a little My Big Truck Book but kidlet was still wide awake and I was the one falling asleep. He read Clifford over again and kept saying, "Mommy, Mooooommmmmyyy...wake up! Look!" then I'd say "Uh huh?" and crack open my eyes and he'd say, "These eggs same!" and then I'd go back to sleep again.

Eventually he must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remember is the alarm going off and waking up next to his feet. Kidlet tosses and turns a lot in bed, so most mornings he ends up head-down with his feet on the pillow. He also hates covers so we have to dress him in long pajamas to keep him from getting cold. Weirdo.

Just a day.

Sigh.

My boobs are definitely drying up. I was only able to manually express the teeniest droplet from Lefty this morning, and kidlet only wanted to nurse on Righty. He said he was getting milk when I asked him but I wasn't noticing much swallowing. When he was done where was a little milk on Righty but it wasn't nearly as much as it used to be. I think he's mostly just sucking for comfort.

It makes me a little sad.

When I talked to Heide a week or so ago she was talking about how her milk came in for the new baby and was just gushing again, like it did for her first daughter. She was tandem nursing and had more milk than she needed. I have to admit it made me jealous. I mean, I'm glad as hell for her, but why did I have to end up with boobs so barren?

I know rationally that I should be happy that I have been able to nurse my son for as long as I have (32 months so far) and that I've done everything I could to ensure he had the best there is, but I had always hoped that he would wean himself by choice. If I dry up he won't have much of a choice, and that's just kind of sad for some reason.

Well, anyway. I just hope with my next child that I have better luck with lactation, because I do NOT want to go through the pumping hell I did with Michael. I'm not sure I could face that again without some serious antidepressants. When I think how I had to resort to taking naps while pumping it makes my stomach turn over.

This morning I put on cologne, it's been a long while since I've done that. My coworker came into the department and said, "It smells like school lunch in here!" I know she wasn't referring to me (dear god I hope not), but it still made me feel less pleased with trying to be more girly today.

Then I went into the kitchen to find no clean coffee mugs and no one had run the dishwasher. On top of that, the sink was full of dirty dishes. When I first started here I would clean up the kitchen every day, wiping things down and putting things away. Heck, not any more. If people want to be slobs, I can't keep cleaning up after them. I got my coffee mug from yesterday out of the dishwasher and started putting dirty dishes in so I'd have space to wash it in the sink. While I was doing this, another coworker came in and poured himself the rest of the coffee. Bummer. He did apologize and started another pot, but I had to wait until it was done brewing before I could have any. Again, just a minor "oh" for today.

Joy is out of the office today so I won't even be able to talk to her. That's a bummer, too!

I'm not in a bad or sad mood today, exactly, just sort of down. It's a gorgeous day out (after it snowed last night!) so I can't be too upset about that. I've been thinking about my mom a lot lately, though, and that's never a good thing. There are times when I honestly believe she's still alive. I haven't been to her house since before she died...I think this is because I can't stand to see everything changed. As long as I don't have proof, I can still imagine that she's at home sitting on the couch, smoking and watching Passions.

Just the usual blabber.

- monday -
Everyone's back to normal, it seems. Man, March was a toughie. Literally 3-1/2 weeks of the month found at least one person in the household ill or otherwise incapacitated. WTF was up with that?

Anyway, I'm thankful that we're all healthy and hanging in there.

Things That Bug Me:

I bought that mint green argyle sweater off of eBay for $4.99. I paid $5.99 for Priority Mail shipping, even though I know a sweater stuffed into a Priority Mail bag would cost $3, tops. Whatever. Literally 30 seconds after clicking Buy Now, I sent my payment of $10.98 via PayPal. That was Wednesday, March 22.

Fast forward to Friday, March 31, a full nine days later. No package yet. No email, not even a confirmation that she received my payment. WTF? I send a very nice message to the seller asking if they could tell me when I could expect my sweater. Monday, April 3rd, they respond, saying, "hi! sorry for the delay, but it will go out tomorrow!"

WTF, indeed?!

It really burns me when people overcharge for shipping on eBay. It burns me even MORE when they don't even ship until you get fed up and ask them about it! I mean, really? If she forgot to ship the damned thing, why not just say, "OMG I am so sorry, I will refund what you paid for shipping and I'll put it in the mail tomorrow."? What is this "sorry for the delay" crap?

So what should I do? Obviously I should wait until the sweater is in my hot little hands. Then I'll see if she even shipped it Priority or if she lied about that, too. Then what do I do? Ask for the cost of shipping back? I think I'm entitled to it, especially as she charged more for shipping than she did for the damned sweater.

She's another one of those feedback hostages, too. I buy something, pay instantly, yet she doesn't leave me any feedback. That's because she's waiting to see what I'm going to leave her for feedback, and then no doubt retaliate if I tell the truth about the transaction. Because she definitely deserves a neutral. I hate this eBay feedback BS. It sucks. I held up my end of the deal, I paid you with no other assurance that I was doing anything but throwing my money into a hole.

Gah, I'm just so irritated by stuff like this.

In other news, had a decent weekend. I slept a lot more than I probably should have. I just love to sleep. I feel a little guilty as Michael gets up with kidlet at asscrack o'clock and these days he doesn't bug me when I sleep in. I'm ashamed to say it's because I would get really bitchy with him when he'd try to wake me up. Sigh. The poor guy probably doesn't get enough sleep because of me. I'm bad.

Anyway, slept a lot, sat around a lot, and then on Sunday I suddenly said "The house is dirty!" so we spent a couple of hours cleaning up. Again, Michael did more than me (in my opinion) but I washed some very nasty dishes that had been fermenting for a few days and didn't fit in the dishwasher. Pots and pans, mostly. The house is now fairly clean, I mean, there's always the avalanche of my desk and my tendency to stack my folded laundry on the floor rather than put it in my dresser.

Speaking of which, I've come to a decision about my clothes. They are getting out of control. Maybe it's a by-product of watching What Not To Wear at the gym while working out, but I just have too many clothes that don't fit. I don't have the time or patience (or space) to eBay them all, either, so I'm going to just get the Great Purge over with and donate them to Goodwill. I know that I could probably get some money for them, but right now the time investment just isn't worth it. There are lots of other things I want to do and can't because I can't get past the clutter in my mind.

I have tons of clothes that I've put away for "later", and have sat around for a long time, unworn. There might be some things that I could legitimately hold onto, but honestly, it's not happening right now. I keep telling myself that as I lose weight again I'll be able to wear some of them, but in the meantime they're just sitting around.

So I've decided to go through my clothes and be really tough. I will keep only the things that fit me RIGHT NOW and that I will wear RIGHT NOW. It's got a hole, or a tiny stain that I just can't manage to get out? Goodbye! No mending, no "maybe I'll wear it to the gym", no "I should save it to tear up and make a rug out of!", just goodbye. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

I will allow myself ONE plastic storage bin of "future" clothing so I can keep a few key pieces that I particularly loved when I was smaller - for instance, my beloved Old Navy bootcut jeans. They are my favorite jeans so I will keep them. I will allow myself one 90-gallon bin, and after that's full, that's it.

Other than that, out of the things that don't currently fit I will keep my one black suit, my favorite green flowered dress, and that one froufrou Victorian dress I bought years ago looking forward to being size 12 again someday. The rest of that stuff in my closet that doesn't fit is going, that's the end of it. I'll go through the business clothes that do fit and get rid of the stuff that looks awful but I keep wearing anyway.

This is it. Honestly. There's no sense in my having so many clothes and only wearing what is picked off of the clean pile during the week - the eternal pile that exists because there is no room in my dresser because it's full of clothes I don't wear. I probably wear the same eight to ten outfits over and over again, all of the extra crap is hiding anything else I might want to wear. It's time to get rid of it!

There's my decision. I'm going to be getting rid of a lot of stuff, but it's long overdue. Hopefully I'll discover a few things I forgot I had and be able to actually start using them again.

- tuesday -
Got another eBay purchase last night, a lot of boy's clothes for kidlet. I figured out the cost per item including shipping and it came to $1.25 apiece, which is cheaper than Goodwill. Of course, there are a few pieces I won't put my kid into, but those will go to Goodwill for someone else to find. No biggie.

I get a nice note from the seller (Another feedback hostage, "Please leave me feedback when you receive this package and I'll leave some for you - thank you!" - *hmph* indeed.) saying, "I've sent you a few bonus pieces, the white Ralph Lauren shirt has a small stain on the front that I thought you might be able to get out, enjoy!" That was a nice gesture, even with a stain. No biggie. Then I'm looking through the box and I find a long-sleeved navy shirt that appears to have an unwashed food stain on the bottom. Um, yuck. It doesn't look like a washed-in stain, it looks like someone dripped something on the shirt and then it didn't get washed. Bleh! I stopped rummaging through the box, I plan to dump the whole works into a hot wash cycle and wait until it all comes out of the dryer to sort through it.

*shudder* Bleh indeed!

Last night we got home and there was a message on the answering machine from kidlet's doctor. The culture came back negative, which means kidlet didn't have anything at all. No staph, no strep, nothing. Just a diaper rash. Sheesh. Thank GOD I didn't give him that oral antibiotic! Can you believe it? The doctor just rattled off a prescription for medication that wasn't necessary, and had no plan to take a culture to find out if it was even needed!

And people think I'm nuts for questioning the medical establishment.

Don't get me wrong, I think modern medicine is a marvelous and awesome thing...I was thinking just this morning about a little scratch I have on the back of my thumb. How a few hundred years ago, with the limited knowledge of hygeine and treatment, a scratch like this one could get infected and fester and result in losing my thumb, my hand, or even my death. How if you broke a bone, you were pretty much left with a limp for the rest of your life if it wasn't set right. So many things we take for granted - like aspirin, or cough syrup. Sure, there are plenty of natural alternatives, but if you weren't in the know about them, you just didn't have them. Nowadays we have the luxury of choosing naturopathic treatment because we are so well informed. Also, and I'll admit it, we have the option of turning to "tech" medicine if a natural method fails. It frees us to do whatever the hell we want.

So anyway, I was musing over my thumb and all that goes with it, and I think medicine is a wonderful thing. However, I think it's also very smart to be well informed as an individual, to really know how your own body works and what your personal level of health and maintenance is. To question things that are told to you, but in an intelligent manner. If kidlet had seemed seriously ill, I would have had no problem giving him a prescribed medication. In his case, my gut told me that he was fine - he had no symptoms of illness, he was acting normally, and the doctor didn't say anything about latent symptoms that could be easily missed. I insisted on a culture as it could only make the situation clearer. I did my reading about staph and strep and knew what to look for. I consulted the naturopath for her opinion. It all took just a few minutes, and I avoided overmedicating my son.

I even feel a little guilty about using the antibiotic cream for the four days I did, but in the grand scheme of things some topical cream applied to the affected area won't have the same effect as a systemwide medication dosed twice a day as far as overuse is concerned.

When my son is 50, I don't want him to need an antibiotic to stop a life-threatening bacterial infection and not be able to find one that works. I don't want my son to develop asthma. I don't want the population at large to suffer because antibiotics are overused. I wish other people saw things this way, but being a parent I see many kids at Michael's daycare who are constantly on one medication or another. How can their parents not see the correlation?

Anyway. I'm frustrated that the doctor was so ready to just give my son medication, so resistant to doing a culture, and the result ended up being that my gut feeling and background of knowledge was right. And I'm the one being difficult. The doctor, while nice, actually tried to discourage me from getting a culture taken - something that I would end up paying for anyway, something that would take her two minutes to collect, and then I had to do all of the legwork to bring it to the lab. What's the big deal?

Sigh.

The other thing is that most childhood illnesses will improve on their own over the course of 7-10 days. Of course, after your kid's been sick for 3-4 days, you bring them to the doctor out of concern, they prescribe an antibiotic, tell you it takes 2-3 days to show improvement, and then the "improvement" is actually your kid getting better on their own. It's so ridiculous. Sure, no one likes having a sick kid, but I'd rather have a sick kid who is building his own immune defenses than depending on medicine to fight the battle for him.

Here's more information on antibitoic overuse and what you can do (or rather, not do) about it:
Dr. Greene article
Keep Antibiotics Working - focuses on antibiotic use in people as well as animals.
American Association of Pediatrics
Antibiotic Overuse Fuels Drug Resistance article

In other news, I was really irritated at how the Dr. Sears website didn't have ANYTHING on staph infections. What the heck? It also doesn't have anything about antibiotic overuse. Ever since they started endorsing breakfast cereal (I'm serious, we bought a box of cereal and Dr. Sears' head was on it with his official recommendation!) and putting ads for formula on their website I've been sort of disenchanted with the Sears folks. (OMG this isn't a formula/breast debate, so chill - I'm just saying that his books encourage breastfeeding so strongly that it's hypocritical to sell out to a formula company to make money off of their advertising.) I wrote them an email about the staph issue and never heard back. Hmph indeed.

Aaaanyway, the bottom line (ha) is that kidlet is fine, always was fine. The illnesses have passed, hopefully until next season. Yesterday it was gorgeous out, sunny and nearly 70, and today it's cold and sleeting. Stupid Maine springtime.

I've been going to the gym every day, and overall I feel great. I even did a few minutes on the elliptical at home last night, I'm going to try and do that more often. It might only be a few minutes here and there, but it's better than nothing. Now I need to work on drinking less coffee.

Ha!

Rocking out to Led Zeppelin today.

Just like that chicken with its head cut off...

What a week. Well, a week and a day or two.

Let's recap...

Kidlet is sick Friday, dad stays home from work with him. Good dad. Kidlet still sick Saturday, feeling better Sunday. Husby is now sick on Sunday. Husby stays home Monday, kidlet goes to daycare until all of 9:30am when I am called to pick him up as he has a temperature. I leave work early to pick up kidlet, go home and now all three of us are home. Tuesday - kidlet is still warm and husby is still sick so I convince him to watch kidlet so at least one of us can go where we have to be. Wednesday we all limp off to our respective workplaces/school. That brings us to today.

Today we took one car to Portland as we always do, and I get the dreaded cell phone call at 9:30am. Apparently kidlet's rash looks suspect and the staff is worried about staph. They suggest bringing him to a doctor but since it's his butt he can stay at daycare. You see, two other kids have had staph in the past month, though of course they can't say who or how bad or how they were treated. Great. Stress out a little bit. Get a second call at 10am - the director of the daycare has consulted their on-call physician and I have to go pick kidlet up. He needs to go to the doctor and can't come back until he's been on antibiotics for 24 hours, which means Friday is shot to hell. Grand.

I pull my manager into the conference room and tell him what's going on and apologize profusely. Since husby already was out Friday, Monday, AND Tuesday, he can't really take any more time off. I had to leave early Monday, and now I was leaving early Thursday and would be out on Friday. Spiffy. Manager is fairly understanding and I make a few calls to arrange for a doctor's visit and I also give his naturopath a heads-up. Call husby a few times in there, too. Tell coworkers I won't be able to make surprise birthday cake for the new guy after all.

Pick up kidlet, go to lunch with dad, then drive home to go to doctor. Fortunately husby arranges for a ride home with the VP, who lives in our town. Doctor takes one look and says that it's either staph or strep, prescribes me an oral antibiotic and an antibiotic topical cream. Ask for culture, which she wasn't going to do since she prescribed an oral antibiotic but I insist (I have ulterior motives, you see). Bring culture to lab - 48 hours for results, and I need to call my doctor's office. Woman is having a BAD day and even my sunny, cooperative disposition doesn't melt her. Take kidlet home and call naturopath, she advises me to go ahead and use the topical cream, but to hold off on the oral medication until the culture comes back. If it's staph and kidlet isn't symptomatic (he isn't, he hasn't had a fever in over two days and is eating/acting/feeling normally) he won't need the oral antibitoic. If it's strep, he'll need both.

So now I wait. Kidlet can't go to daycare tomorrow regardless of whether I was giving him the oral antibiotic or not. Hopefully the lab results will be back tomorrow, I plan to call and find out, otherwise I'm going to just tell the daycare that he's being treated (which is true, I'll be using the topical cream) so he can go back to school on Monday. He's not going to be rubbing his ass on anyone's mucous membranes so I'm not worried about it spreading.

Sheesh. The things a mom goes through just to avoid overuse of antibiotics.

I really hope that my manager and director are as cool as they seem about me missing so much work due to kid-related stuff. Right now husby is helping me get set up so I can telecommute, keeping my fingers crossed that our shiny new hardware firewall will work and that the kidlet will give me enough time to actually get something done.

Sigh.

I can't wait for this week to be over!

Long.

On Friday kidlet was sick, so Michael stayed home with him while I went to work. It was nice, I got in nice and early and had a decent day at work. On Friday afternoon I went over to the gym and signed up. This place claims to be a "Judgment Free Zone" but I felt a little condescended to by the kid at the desk. Whatever. I was just extra nice and extra friendly to him. Stupid fatphobes. What the hell am I supposed to do, huh? Oh, that's right - work out. So...I'm signing up for the gym to do what? Work out. So kiss my ass.

This gym is offering a decent deal, I got the membership that gives me an additional family membership, so Michael can come with me, and I can bring one guest a day. I'm hoping I can coerce Jenn into coming along once her office moves. It's moving closer to where we all work so it would be easy to bring her along. We'll see how that goes. The more the merrier, I always say!

Today is the first day I'm going to go to the gym with my coworker. I'm really glad she asked me if I wanted to join and invited me along when she went to check the place out. It'll be a great motivator to have someone else to go with. She's also got her system down so she can get there, work out, shower, and be back to work in an hour. Cool. Michael won't be joining us today as now he is sick with what kidlet had on Friday.

Kidlet stayed home Friday, then on Friday night when I got home he was running a temperature of 103.6 so we gave him a cool bath, which he screamed throughout. I normally avoid giving him anything but he was so hot that he wasn't able to settle down to sleep, so I gave him a half dose of Infant's ibuprofen and within half an hour he was down to 100.8. He was acting a lot better, much more spirited and happy. We got him dressed and ready for bed, I nursed him for a little while and then he went down without incident.

About an hour later I was checking my email when I heard him wailing - I met him as he ran into the living room and he looked really bent. As I picked him up I realized why - he had vomited all over himself and it was all stuck in his hair in a big clump. Blecch. I went into the bedroom and the bed was soaked, too. I called daddy Michael down from where he was telecommuting so he could help, and got kidlet out of his pajamas. He had to go back in the bathtub so I could wash the chunks out of his hair, he once again screamed the entire time but sat still. I could tell the tepid water was hurting his skin - I think he was having that hot/cold sunburny feeling one gets when they're feverish. Poor twerp.

While I was bathing kiddo, daddy Michael was stripping and remaking the bed, this time with a waterproof pad under the sheet and a towel on top. After I got kidlet washed up I put him in fresh jammies and he went back to bed without incident.

The next moring he was still pretty wrung out, though he woke up early. Bleah. His temp was back up in the 102 range but he was playing, even though he looked horrible. We met Jenn and Leonard for brunch and he was in good spirits, though he looked so tired the whole time. He held up well. We bought some high-heat engine paint to finally finish the radiators in the living room and at home Michael taped up everything in preparation. We learned a few lessons that day - the first being that if you intend to paint radiators, do it FIRST before you do any other work in the room. That way you can tape everything up, get it done, then just leave it taped up for the other wall and trim painting. Lesson learned.

On Sunday kidlet woke up Damned Early but seemed to be feeling fine, which was a relief. We planned our day around radiator painting. Michael closed off the room and we put all of the animals in the extension, which is separated from the house by an exterior door (as it used to be the outside door of the house) so it was sealed up tight. Michael donned a mask and sprayed the radiators, then changed his clothes, opened a bunch of windows, and we went out for a few hours. Before we left the house it really stank - even the dining room smelled like fumes even though all of the living room doors were closed. Phew.

- this entry interrupted by sick kidlet -

- tuesday -
We went the Chaneez Boofay for lunch, while we were at the restaurant Michael said, "I'm starting to not feel very good." Uh oh. He was better in the car so we decided to drive around while kidlet slept since it was his naptime. We took a road out of Sabattus that we'd never explored before and ended up in West Gardiner, which is pretty far out there. We connected back up with the highway and went back to Sabattus, where I stopped to get some coffee. I suggested that we check out Jillson's Sugar House, every time I'd been through Sabattus I'd see their signs but had never visited. We followed the signs and as we came up over a hill the farm came into view - there were cars parked up and down the road for about a quarter of a mile! Smoke and steam were merrily pouring from the sugar house and I said, "Well, it certainly looks open!" There were people everywhere!

It turns out that Sunday was Maine Maple Sunday, I had no idea! Jillson's was rocking. We went into the sugar house to watch the boiler boil sap, which wasn't all that interesting but kidlet was impressed with the heat and the fire. We went to the barn to visit the animals, which is always a huge hit with the kid. We baaed at sheep and oinked at the pig and clucked at the chickens. Jillson's even has five hives, so we watched the bees buzz in and out for a few minutes. Michael really liked the big red tractors, of which there were two, and we looked at another defunct tractor mired in some grass and mud. Kidlet is nuts about tractors lately. I ended up buying a few gifties of fresh maple syrup for some friends, you can't get fresher than poured into a bottle that day! Yummy. Also some more syrup for us as we were nearly out. There are few joys as simple and wonderful as real maple syrup.

After that we headed home, and I dropped off daddy Michael to clean up the house, taking down the plastic taped up and vaccuuming the dried spray that had turned into powder and was coating the floor. The radiators look amazing. Seriously. We should have done this a long time ago, and it was so easy - originally I was going to get aluminum powder and a mixing medium and brush it onto the radiators, but the auto chasse paint ended up being so quick, so cheap, and totally awesome results. I love it!

Something random...last week we went to Quizno's (the second and last time, both times they sucked pretty much equally) and saw Pat Callaghan. He's much more handsome in person. I remember watching him as a little kid.

Sunday afternoon daddy Michael wasn't feeling well so I went to Jenn and Leonard's with kidlet while he stayed home. We had a nice time though when we got home daddy Michael was in a pitiful state and running a fever. I tended to him and the kidlet and caught the damned dog in the compost pile again. I NEED to get the time to put a piece of fencing over the opening of that pile, dammit.

Monday kidlet seemed better and daddy was still sick so he stayed home while I headed to work and dropped kidlet at daycare. At 9:30am I got a call that kidlet had a temperature over 101 so I had to come pick him up. When I arrived I found him to be slightly warm (I'm not sure he was that hot, but whatever) and a strawberry next to his right eye. Apparently he went into the "alone space" with about six other kids so it wasn't so alone any more and while jumping around whacked his head on the corner of something. Poor kidlet. He told me he cried and his friends hugged him, and the other kids crowded around to tell me their side of the story. It was sweet how concerned they were for him.

I took kidlet home to my pitiful husband, then spent the day taking care of two sick boys. Kidlet seemed all right, just much more lethargic than usual. I washed his boo-boo and put some Neosporin on it, then let him pick out a Winnie the Pooh bandaid to put over it. He seemed very pleased with this and kept going to the mirror to admire himself.

I did something very out of the ordinary as I hadn't yet eaten anything when I arrived home at 11am, I had just had coffee so I was pretty shaky by this point. I sat on the couch with kidlet and we shared a quarter of a pint of Ben & Jerry's. Yum. Kidlet loved it, he has never had that much ice cream at once before, and the good stuff too. He didn't like the fudge pieces in it, though, I gave him one and he chewed thoughtfully, then said, "Chok-o-lit too hard. Not like chok-o-lit." The way he pronounces chocolate, in three distinct syllables, cracks me up. So anyway, we ate ice cream. Sign me up for the mother of the year award. I figure when a kid is sick for pretty much five days in a row he deserves some ice cream. After a few spoonfuls he sighed and said, "All done."

That afternoon was pleasant - we made art projects in the form of coloring cards for the grandparents. I traced his hand and he traced mine, then he colored them, added stickers, and I found some duplicate photos I'd gotten made of kidlet in Ogunquit that I cut around his picture, then helped him tape to the cards. He also 'wrote' a postcard to Grandma, which I'm sure she'll love. After craft time we sat on the floor and played with his wooden trucks. I knew he wasn't feeling up to snuff when he stopped, looked at me and said, "Michael tired of playing." Well then.

We had some lunch, then kidlet and daddy went to the bedroom to lay down for a nap. They napped a good long time, I was so glad. I watched a really terrible, boring movie and napped through part of it, then made a few pairs of baby booties to Etsy out of some yarn ends I had lying around. Kidlet and dad came out of the bedroom, kidlet looking somewhat refreshed and dad looking wrung out. He was still feeling pretty miserable.

I changed kidlet's diaper (potty training is still in fits and starts) and got him dressed to go outside. He seemed enthusiastic about it and I had more yard work to do, so I figured he could run around and play with the dog or with sticks or something while I scooped wintered-over dog poo. Yay.

I got him outside and he just stood there on the deck. I tried to interest him in helping me find poop (I know, but it was the best I had to offer) and he said, "No, Michael want to go inside." I was able to keep him out maybe ten minutes, then as I had my back turned I heard the sliding door open and then shut. I went back into the house and kidlet was already in the dining room, peeling off his jacket and boots. "Michael tired. Want to watch teevee." Ah well. I tried. All the art projects, books, toys, and outdoor exploits in the world won't do a bit of good if the kid's too wiped out.

We ended up spending a good part of the evening watching Teletubbies. I tried to get him interested in some books and we read a few, but he even got tired of that. The poor kid was just weary. At 7 o'clock after I got him changed into pajamas he was just sitting there on the couch, spacing out. I came out of his room after tossing his diaper in the pail to find him zoning, his eyelids at half mast. The television was off, the radio wasn't even on, he was just sitting and staring. I tried to interest him in dinner, suggesting veggies, fruit, toast, but all he wanted was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He didn't want to sit in his high chair, saying, "Mommy, I want YOU," so I convinced him to sit on the counter while I made his sandwich. He sat there and ate, drank some soy milk, then started saying, "Mommy, up." "I can't pick you up, you're eating. When you're done I can pick you up," I replied. He immediately put his sandwich down and said, "All done, now you pick me up." He had a point.

We went out into the living room and he had his head on my shoulder. I asked if he wanted some boobie, so we sat on the couch and he nursed for a few minutes sporadically, then fell asleep in my lap. I tried to get up and he said, "No, no..." so I sat back down and watched him sleep for about fifteen minutes. He looked so perfect,I just stared and stared at him. I carefully ran my fingers over his perfect cupid's bow lips, touched that soft little divot under his nose, caressed the curve of his cheek, followed his nose to its slightly upturned tip. It was one of those moments that I told myself I absolutely must remember. At times like that I think about the future, about how someday he'll be grown and have his own life where I'm not the most important part of it. How I'll cast my memory back and remember him just like this, lying snugly in my arms, his hair so soft and silky, his skin peachy and tender and gorgeous. How his eyelashes lay on his cheeks, how his ears curl into themselves. His little shoulder sticking up and his feet snuggled into my stomach. I tried to soak in everything, to inscribe it on my brain so it became a part of me and I'd never forget it.

Eventually my leg started to fall asleep so I whispered, "It's time for bed, Michael," and I got up. He put his head on one shoulder, then the other, and said groggily, "Want to sleep on couch." I paused for a second, then figured why not, so I lay him on the couch on one of our bed pillows, snuggled his nursing pillow up to his stomach so he'd have something to hold onto, and covered him with an afghan. "Are you comfortable?" I asked him, and he shook his head yes without even opening his eyes. I tucked the afghan around him and said, "Are you warm enough?" Another nod. I turned on the stereo with the As The World Sleeps CD playing, then sat in the chair in the corner to do some knitting. By 9:45 I was starting to get sleepy so I checked on kidlet, left the light in his room on and our bedroom door open so he could find his way in, then went to bed. I couldn't bear moving him when he looked so snug and content (and was breathing through his nose without snot, which was a first in a long time).

He did end up in the bedroom come 5am when he woke me up, and when I did get up I found dad on the couch. Weird. We don't stay still in my household, apparently.

This morning kidlet had a slightly elevated temperature - 100.2, and the daycare cutoff is 101. Dad was still feeling ill but was well enough to stay home with kidlet, so the boys are keeping one another company today. I offered to stay home again if he needed it, because I didn't want to drive kidlet all the way to Portland and risk his school calling me to pick him up again and driving all the way home. Daddy Michael said it was fine, I could go, and I told him to let me know if he needed me to come home. It'll be easier for me to leave here and get home without picking kidlet up from daycare should it be necessary. I hope they're having a good day together.

I also forgot to mention that on Saturday night daddy Michael went out with Leonard to buy some new work clothes (it's about time, his stuff is literally falling apart). While they were gone kidlet and I baked a cake from scratch. Yum. Of course with everyone being sick it's still sitting on the counter and hasn't even been cut into yet. Sigh. Kidlet really enjoyed helping measure and mix, he's gotten really good about behaving himself while sitting up on the counter with me since it's a dangerous place to be with the stove and the sink and the knife block all within reach. I never leave his side for a second, but he is very good and never touches anything. I do let him play with the breadbox, he likes to turn the big "key" on it. It's harmless so I let him vent his curiosity on that.

I'm also starting to save boxes and cans that food come in for him to play with. Daddy Michael took a big piece of cardboard from a wok box and drew stove burners on it, so it's kidlet's "stove". We give him a bowl and a wooden spoon and he goes to town. Now he has a few "food" items to play with, too - I just tape the boxes shut and line them up near his stove. He loves them.

If you've read all of this, I commend you. It's not that interesting but it's what I've got.

Sometimes I feel like I'm just filing away my life in little bits and pieces...will it ever be of interest to anyone but myself? Should I package it all up someday to pass on to my children? Will they even care? So many of us sending our words out for all the world to see. Where does the fascination end?