swimmingly

We spend a good chunk of our summer days at the pool. It's cool in the water, there's a snack bar, other kids to play with, even a pile of gently-used magazines to read. As IF I had time to read magazines. Heh.

Every year is different at the pool.

This year, Cheer got his patch - which means he can officially swim and go off the slide and the diving boards. Three down, one to go. He's also old enough to remember our membership number which is how he can access our snack funds. That's both good and bad.

Also this year, Shout can ALMOST stand up in the big pool. Many of her friends are already there, so she wants to be a big pool girl and not bask in the artifically warm waters of the baby pool.

Which means I have to be RIGHT NEXT TO HER because... um... she can't swim.

So last year was actually a little easier. I had to keep a close eye on Cheer in the big pool, but I could generally sit and chat over in the baby pool while doing so.

This year, I'm in the water the whole time. Which is ok, just different.

You know what drives me crazy about that though? My kids are ALL UP IN MY BUSINESS. Like seriously - if I BLINK, I hit at least one of them with my eyelashes.

The pool we belong to is GIANT. I'd estimate there are AT LEAST 55,000 gallons of water in that pool. (I actually have no idea how many gallons there are, but it's A WHOLE LOT.)

So here's a picture of us at the pool... ALL OCCUPYING THE SAME GALLON OF WATER. We might as well just stay home and get in the bathtub. (You might need to click on it to embiggen.)



For some reason, I am the ONLY mom at the pool telling her kids, "GET AWAY!" "GO SWIM!" "BACK OFF!" "GET OUT OF MY PERSONAL SPACE!"

I've gotten some funny looks. But seriously. I challenge anyone who dares to get in the bathtub with your kids, have them hang off your shoulders, swim UNDER YOU and pull on your bathing suit straps to see if they can cause a wardrobe malfunction. Also have them start a splash fight with each other and see if it gets all over your glasses so you can't see.

And while you're at it, have them all say "BUTT" a bunch of times for no good reason, because they know you hate that.

If you can get through all that without screaming "GET AWAY!" then let me know in the comments because you win a prize. And leave me your address. Because the prize is, I'm coming over to learn your secret.

irony

On Tuesday, I got an exciting email. Remember WAAAAY back in January when I took Bounce and Cheer to the Health and Fitness Expo? I signed up with the National Bone Marrow Donor Program.

Well, I got an email that I am a potential match for someone who needs a bone marrow transplant. It was especially welcome news after tragically losing a friend over the weekend. I could (potentially) save a life. Somehow, it made me feel better. (It's a long process and I'm just in the first cut. If I'm selected for the next round, I have to go get bloodwork done and we go from there.)

So I called the 800 number in the email and went over my medical history with the person on the other end. She asked a lot of questions, most of which I sailed right through. Like, "Do you have hepatitis?" "Do you have HIV?"

But then she asked, "Do you have any bleeding conditions, like hemophilia?"

GAH.

As far as I KNOW, I don't have any bleeding conditions. I mean, I don't have hemophilia. So I said no, but then I did a little research.

Because you remember all those questions Shout's doctors asked me about tampons? Well, the most likely condition that she has (if she has a diagnosable condition) is Von Willebrand disease, which is a mild bleeding disorder (primary symptom, excessive menstrual bleeding). It's the most common hereditary bleeding disorder. It's not X-chromosome linked, like hemophilia, so it would not be related to her Turner Syndrome. It would more likely be inherited, from ME.

So if she tests positive, then I will get tested. And then all the other kids.

And guess what? Von Willebrand disease disqualifies you from ever being a bone marrow donor.

Crap.

So should we start a pool on whether or not either of us has it?

camp mom takes on camp stimey

Thank you all for your kind comments on my last post. It's been a hard week and I am completely out of funny right now.

But I wanted to share my pictures of the Camp Stimey Invitational Field Trip to the National Building Museum. (Go here to read Stimey's much funnier recap.)

Only 2 of my 4 campers joined me, which meant bonus fun! We could take the Metro. Because I only have 2 hands, even I am not crazy enough to take 4 kids on the Metro by myself. (Not that my 12 year old would be caught DEAD holding my HAND. But I still have 3 kids who I don't trust not to fall on the tracks.) Additional bonus fun was taking the kids for a walk around Chinatown in 103 degree heat. If I could have a do-over, I'd skip that part.


Replicas of famous buildings made out of Legos. Including the tallest building in the world in Dubai which my brother helped build. (The real one, not the Lego one. If you could see my brother's sausage-like fingers, you would know he's not so good at Legos.)


There was a WHOLE ROOM FULL OF LEGOS.
Almost as many as I have on my basement floor right now.


She doesn't really like Legos but she's a social butterfly.
All the stickers are from the doctor visit right before.


You KNEW I was going to put this on the internet, Kristen. Heh.


Stimey's, Sam. He takes his Legos very seriously.


The prison I made. Apt.


One of Robin's campers and one of Kristen's. Adorable. We need to do this more often.


This is a Lego representation of the atrium of the building, IN THE ATRIUM.


INCLUDING THE LEGO REPRESENTATION INSIDE THE LEGO REPRESENTATION.
(It doesn't take much to blow my mind, ya'll.)

More fun coming soon. I promise. Thanks for hanging in there with me.

untitled

I'm so behind writing here. I have lots of posts stacked up in my brain and not enough time to bang them out on the keyboard.

And today, I'm writing something I never expected to write. And I don't even know where to begin. With all the words swirling around in my head, I have no words for this one.

I've written before about my fear of thunderstorms after my kids were out in one.

On Sunday, I popped on Twitter for a few minutes in the midst of cleaning up the house. People just a few miles away were tweeting about a fast-moving, scary storm that was hitting our area.

I ran outside to take in the beach towels, as we leave them hanging out there between our daily trips to the pool. The sky was clear and blue.

Bounce was just heading down the driveway on her bike. I told her that I thought a storm was coming and she should stick close by... and come home AS SOON she saw a dark cloud.

Then I set about folding the towels and picking up yard toys.

In the span of about 5 minutes, the wind had picked up and the sky had turned an ominous color. It was that fast.

I stood in the middle of the street and looked in both directions for Bounce. I couldn't see her coming. Other people were coming out of their houses to roll up car windows and put down patio umbrellas.

In another 2 or 3 minutes, the sky was ugly and scary. I tried to tell myself that I need to get over my irrational panic of thunderstorms. Bounce was fine. She might get wet but she would be ok.

But I couldn't convince myself. I ran into the house and grabbed my car keys. I told the other kids to stay put and locked the door. (Laundry Dad was at Home Depot.)

I jumped in the van with my heart POUNDING. The wind was suddenly very strong and sticks and leaves were blowing in every direction. The sky was heavy and dark.

I found Bounce about 2 blocks away, riding her bike across the soccer field. She looked scared. It had all happened in just minutes. I drove slowly behind her as she pedaled her new bike as fast as she could toward home. I was frantic - praying that all the branches on the giant old trees on our street stayed put.

An inflatable wading pool from a neighbor's yard caught the wind and blew up into the air, over Bounce's head as she road - landing across the street.

The rain came down in jagged sheets as she pulled into our driveway and raced for the garage.

We ran inside the house.

The other kids were abuzz. The power had gone off almost as soon as I had left, but had flashed on and off again a few times.

I checked the weather report and saw a tornado warning, so I took everyone into the basement and shut and locked all the doors. We've only ever had to do that once before. In the back of my mind, I wondered if I was over-reacting to Twitter-hysteria and my irrational fears.

The storm was over in about 15 minutes.

The wind died down, the rain slowed, the clouds parted and eventually, the sky returned to the bright blue color it had been an hour before.

We went outside to assess the damage. Aside from a lot of sticks blown from the trees, we had none. We still had power. Everything was ok.

Except, I didn't know it then, but it wasn't.

One of my friends was in her car at the time the storm hit. Just a few miles from her house. Her mother-in-law was beside her. I don't know where they were going, but I imagine they were as surprised at the suddenness and ferocity of the storm as we all were.

And then, my worst irrational fear happened to her.

A tree fell and hit her car and killed her instantly.

Her mother-in-law was seriously injured.

And this is where I run out of words.

How do I describe this? The impact on her two little girls, who aren't old enough to understand this. Who may not even be old enough to remember her one day, when they are grown. The giant hole in her family and community.

She was one of those people. The kind who never turned down a task that needed to be done. Who welcomed everyone. Who literally always had a smile on her face.

We had gone to Kindermusik classes together. Our daughters had gone to the same daycare. They went to school together. In the fall, we were going to be working together on the preschool board.

I was drawn to her. She was happy and no-nonsense. And she had two adorable daughters.

Why do things like this happen? I will never understand. I don't want to understand.

What are we to learn from this? What lesson could we possibly take away?

I don't know. I try to process it, but it's too hard. I have to slam the lid shut on this one because thinking about it makes me unable to function.

Love your kids. Don't fight with your husband. Always say goodbye when you leave the house. You never know.

It all sounds too trite to tie up the life of a complex and wonderful person.

I can only hope that months from now, when some time has passed and I can open up the lid on this and explore it, I come out a better person. A better mother. A better wife. I will kiss my kids and think of the girls who can no longer feel their mother's kiss... I will hold back harsh words and laugh when I feel like yelling. I'll get up from the computer, or put down the dishtowel and chase my kids around the yard.

onward and upward

Going to Children's Hospital with your robustly healthy kid is a humbling thing.

Shout and I spent a few hours in the Hematology/Oncology Clinic at Children's Hospital on Friday.

If you're ever feeling sorry for yourself or your kid, take a trip to the waiting room at the HOC. You will start counting your blessings really fast.

I feel guilty having a healthy child, flitting around, checking out the toys and making trips to the art room. A child who isn't in a wheelchair. Who has all her hair. Who doesn't have an infusion port.

At the same time, I feel so very grateful. Because while at times, keeping up with all of Shout's issues is stressful and overwhelming, when looking at the bigger picture... of what these other parents go through... it's really a piece of cake. Some of it has big globs of yummy icing, and some of it is kind of crumbly and dry. But it's cake. All of it.

The Doctors Vampire were great. They met all my stringent criteria. They had read the file, done some research, answered my questions and had the right balance of laid back and aggressive.

Things got a little awkward when they started asking for REALLY SPECIFIC details about MY history of bleeding. Including REALLY personal things like how much menstrual bleeding I have, which could be quantified by how many tampons I use in a month (Dr. V: "Like a whole box?" Me: "Well, a Costco-sized box or CVS-sized?") And just, you know... GAH! It's all apparently relevant... we'll see.

And can I just say, internet, if you have a kid who stabs herself in the finger and bleeds like a mofo and you take her in to get it checked out... COUNT YOUR TAMPONS FIRST, OK? Because, seriously, I have NO IDEA how many tampons I use per month. BUT YOU WILL NEED TO KNOW THIS.

After we were done with the doctors, they took NINE VIALS OF BLOOD from her. (Seriously, I thought *I* was going to pass out.) And then we headed off to the Camp Stimey field trip to the National Building Museum. (Post about that to come.)

Shout was crying out in her sleep last night, so I went and checked on her. I breathed in her sweet summer smell, chlorine and sunshine. I remembered the many nights I lay awake on the floor next to her crib when she was a baby because in the dark of the night, I was afraid. I felt like I could never be sure she was going to be ok. But if I lay close enough, I could protect her. (From what? I don't know. That laying on the floor stuff was more for me than for her.)

We are so very lucky that we have a healthier child in her than we ever expected. But a little fear is always there.

It never occurred to me until that very moment of tucking her in that for a kid who is at risk (a remote but terrifying risk) of having her aorta dissect and cause a fatal bleed, that a bleeding disorder, even a mild one, is probably not a good thing.

So I scootched her little body over and snuggled in next to her. I can't protect her from everything. All I can do is take care of her the best I know how. But laying down next to her and keeping watch through the night... that part makes me feel better.

(Photo by Samantha Fein via Flickr)

camp mom redefines lazy

I was looking back at my posts from previous summers and wondering where I got all my energy.

We haven't taken many excursions this summer. It's harder and harder to find things that interest both a 12-year old AND a 4-year old.

We've been doing lots of hanging out in our pajamas. Swimming. Bike riding. (Or, in my case, dragging Shout up and down the sidewalk on her VERY HEAVY Princess bike with the training wheels.) We were going out for ice cream and lunch quite a bit until a $1000 dentist bill put an end to that fun.

A whole lot of not much.

And that is ok, I think.

The school year is SO schedule-driven. Especially during sport seasons. I feel like there are days when Shout gets in and out of the car 100 times, none of which have anything to do with her.

This summer, there are days where we don't even get IN the car. For me that is bliss.

I cringe when I think of their teachers asking on the first day of school... "So what did you do this summer?" And they say, "Uh. Nothing."

(Of course, last year, we went to playgrounds, waterparks, minigolfing, vacations and even ANOTHER COUNTRY and they STILL said they did nothing all summer. So I guess I should just let that one go.)

But we need to get out there. There is also a big list of fun things I'd like to do and during the school year, it's just impossible, so I need to take off my pajamas and put on my Camp Mom panties and go. (Even if they DON'T appeal to both a 12-year old and a 4-year old. Although, lemme just say, BOTH of those campers can make things QUITE miserable for everyone if they want to.)

One thing I AM doing is training for the BlogHer 5K.

When I ran my 5K back in April, I swore I would keep running and keep signing up for 5Ks to keep myself motivated. But I didn't sign up for the one I wanted to do in June. So guess what? I didn't run, for MONTHS.

So I'm not QUITE back to square 1, but close. And it is HOT here. Africa hot. So I've mostly been running at the gym. Which is ok, but really boring.

My goal for the last one was not to finish last. This time, I'm keeping that goal and adding that I'd like to run the entire thing (no walking). I'm definitely not there yet, but I'm still plodding along. (Although OMG OMG OMG it's like TWO WEEKS AWAY????!!!!)

And can I just discuss something personal for a minute, internet?

Chafing.

Oh my GOD! I didn't have this problem when I ran in the winter/spring. But now? Who knew that the edge of your underwear could feel like a knifeblade? And let's not even DISCUSS the damage that a slightly off-kilter panty liner can do. Ouchie. The BlogHer 5K is joining forces with Tutus for Tanner, to raise money for and awareness of muscular dystrophy. Honestly, I can't imagine adding TULLE to my chafing equation. (Also? If I end up passing out in the heat of August in NYC, is the tutu going to make it MORE or LESS likely that some passing stranger will come to my aid? Because that possibility is HIGHLY likely. Me passing out on the sidewalk, I mean.)

So I'm looking for some sort of tutu option that has no chance of rubbing against any part of my body. And quite possibly has HELP ME stitched artfully somewhere that could be seen if I was laying facedown on the sidewalk.

I can't wait to meet Black Hockey Jesus in his black tutu. If you want to donate to his race fund, he has a widget in his sidebar.

And now, I'm signing off and getting out the Camp Mom panties. Chafing be damned.

who ME?

So I have a BIG GIANT HUMONGO announcement....

For the past two years at the BlogHer conference, they have held a Community Keynote, a celebration of the best (most touching, funniest, most memorable) posts of the year. The writers read them out loud to the entire conference. (Which is well over A THOUSAND people). Although I haven't been to a BlogHer annual conference, this is the part that I am most jealous of missing. This is the heart of blogging, for me.

This year, they are expanding the field. Ninety finalists were chosen as the Voices of the Year across 5 categories. Three people were chosen to present in each category.

So... I am thrilled (and actually, flabbergasted) to announce, that I am a finalist in the Life category, for my DC Metro Moms post, Baby Girl, which I re-posted here earlier today.



I don't have to get up and read, and honestly, while that is an AMAZING honor, I'm pretty sure I would DROP DEAD or at least faint not to mention stutter and cough and quite possibly be incontinent. (Since I'm on the hairy edge of most of those things on my best day.)

As a finalist, I get to be celebrated and feted and NOT have to read in front of nearly 2000 people, which, for me, is absolutely the best it could be.

I can't describe to you how HONORED I am. I'm not sure I could BE more honored, in the blogging realm.

I LOVE WRITING.

I wish I could do it all day long. I feel like I have so much to say, and never enough time to get it out.

I love refining the words that first come out on the page. The first part is like a data dump and once I let all those words loose, I start moving them around, adding and taking away. Throwing in a comma here. A period there. A little white space. Changing the structure of a sentence. Finding a more accurate word. An analogy. An ending. Endings are sometimes my favorite part. But often the hardest part. Tie it together but also leave it open.

I'm not a crafty person, but I consider words my craft.

I'm not a fabulous writer. If you look at the other finalists, I'm honestly even more shocked and awed that my name is among them. I am good, and I have gotten better through this exercise of blogging. It is a part of me that I left behind when I left the working world. In rediscovering it, I am unearthing a part of me that got buried by motherhood. So MUCH of me got buried by motherhood. And pulling out the shovel and digging myself out was long overdue.

Thank you, BlogHer and all of the Voices of the Year Committee Members. Thank you, readers. And thank you, Sarah, for the nomination.

I'm thrilled.

Baby Girl

(I'm re-posting my DC Metro Moms posts over here, one at a time. I'm starting with this one. I'll explain why later today.)

My 4-year old daughter is obsessed with babies. She talks about babies all day long. She plays with baby dolls, stalks babies at the playground and has already named all FIVE of the babies she plans to have when she grows up. (Molly, Sarah, Laura, Lucy and Peter, by the way.)

I remember my other kids going through phases like this, but they never lasted. Maybe because the older ones all had a live baby to play with. But Baby Girl is and shall remain MY baby, so her obsession with babies lives on.

Recently, her friend (and future husband if she gets her way, but shhh... that's a secret) had a baby born in his family. So she got to watch the expectant mom's belly grow big until the exciting day when she called in labor, about to head to the hospital. My daughter was so excited she could hardly STAND it. She wanted to know what was happening every few minutes. And while I wasn't getting live updates, I told her about her own birth day and the things that happened. And I told her about the amazing, life-changing moment when each of my babies was first laid on my stomach. Those are the most thrilling moments of my life and I will never forget them. If I were younger, I might even consider having more babies, just because that moment is so very powerful it sustains you through the next 18 30 years.

So she added this to her baby play. Sticking the babies under her shirt, laying on the couch, pulling them out and laying them on her belly and murmuring sweet nothings. So adorable I could cry.

But here's the thing.

My daughter will never have that moment.

NEVER.

She can't get pregnant. She can't give birth. She will never lie in a bed in the delivery room. She will never have prenatal appointments. She will never buy maternity clothes.

She's only 4, but we know this already. In fact, we've known it since before she was born.

My daughter has Turner Syndrome, a chromosomal abnormality that causes a host of medical complications, one of which is infertility. She doesn't have ovaries. (Some women with Turner Syndrome can have babies by using donor eggs, but my daughter also has a heart condition which rules that option out for her.) When she was first born, we had so many bigger fish to fry, that infertility was something I put on the way back burner.

I figured that knowing your whole life that you cannot conceive is better than learning in your 30s and spending thousands of dollars in the process, right? While that may be true, I know it will still be a hard reality, no matter how early she learns about it.

Whenever we have talked about babies growing in tummies, we also add that babies come in other ways too. Like on airplanes, as several of our neighbors' adopted chidren have. And about a year ago, I started to add, "Your babies will probably come on an airplane." (Oversimplifying a complex process, I know. But she's only 4.)

But now, she wants babies from her tummy. Five of them. She practices delivery every day, pulling a baby doll or two out from under her shirt. I have to look away. I want to tell her, "No. That's NOT how it's going to happen. You CAN'T HAVE babies in your tummy. Your babies will come to you in a different way."

But I stop myself. I need to say these words for me. Not her. She will learn the hard truth eventually. And gradually, I hope. I can never give her that moment in the delivery room where the doctor lays a baby on her belly. I would do anything if I could, but I can't.

But, I just can't take that moment away from her yet. I will let her have her delivery room moments on the couch with her baby dolls. Her journey to motherhood will be hard and complicated. For now, I'm going to let her be blissfully ignorant, and keep the hard stuff to myself.

Here are the comments from the original post:

Shanna said...

You are right, she can enjoy the pretend now. The other truth will come. And I will tell you that although I've never been pregnant or given birth, there are moments of our adoptions that were just as amazing and transcending as the moment you described. She will have a different experience, but an amazing one as well.

Reply March 15, 2010 at 10:35 AM


Dawn Mooney said...

Oh Sue, this is an overwhelmingly powerful post. I applaud your thoughtfulness and tenderness for your child. She's incredibly fortunate to have you!!

Reply March 15, 2010 at 11:18 AM


Kelly said...

I'm now a blubbering idiot. She is so lucky to have you - to allow her to have these moments. :)

Reply March 15, 2010 at 11:24 AM


Michelle said...

I am a mom of a Turners' girl, too. She is 9 and is still obsessed with babies. She understands she may have babies differently than the norm but still hopes she'll have TWO (a boy and girl) on her own (or using her sister's eggs, perhaps.) We have told her it may be hard for her to have her own babies and she has gradually accepted that over the years. Guess what I am saying, is that 1) your daughter may love babies for awhile yet! and 2) she'll come to terms with it all when she is ready. Good luck!

Reply March 16, 2010 at 05:27 AM


Jenny said...

I have a friend who had ovarian cancer when she was very young, and so also knew early on that she would not be able to have children. I do think it was hard for her, but as you said -- she had a long time to come to grips with it. And she did become a mom when she married a man with two young children from a previous marriage.

Personally, I'm an adoptive mom, and as Shanna said, becoming a parent in this way is its own powerful little miracle. Good luck to you guys!

Reply March 16, 2010 at 08:59 AM


Sarah, Goon Squad Sarah said...

Oh Sue, this is such a tough one, but I think you are right. She doesn't need to know yet, and it will suck no matter what, but knowing before she starts trying to get pregnant will make her prepared when it is time.

Reply March 16, 2010 at 10:38 AM


Becca Johnson said...

I have a seven year old girl. I just want to say that this is something that you should cherish and remember. My little girl did the same thing and then grew out of it. I think its something that little girls go through sometimes. She will know the truth one day but for now let her have her imgaination.

Reply March 16, 2010 at 11:00 PM


SV Moms Group said...

I want to reach through this computer and give you a virtual hug.

Reply March 18, 2010 at 04:27 PM


Laurie White said...

This is beautiful, Sue. I take away from this that she has that beautiful, maternal kind of compassion that can't be given, it just is. I hope that she comes to parenting, if that is the ultimate result for her, as easily as possible. I'm sure with you as an example she can't lose.

Reply March 19, 2010 at 05:37 PM


Alex said...

wow. as a doctor, i know about turner syndrome, but I had never thought about the conversations it would lead a mother and daughter to have even though I'm a mother, too. thank you for sharing.

Reply March 20, 2010 at 12:48 PM


Linsey K / KrolikLegal / Me Too You said...

My girls play baby all the time too. I have never had conversations with them about their own babies, when they come. But no one ever knows whether they will have babies and how they will come. It is probably good to start having the conversation early in any case - that some babies come in tummies and some come in airplanes (love that!). I remember my mom and dad telling me when I was pretty young that they had to try really hard to have me (and my twin sister). It was actually a confidence builder to know that I was such a wanted baby! And I guess I knew that I would have my own troubles with fertility...and I did, following chemo and radiation, I wasn't sure I would ever have babies in my tummy. But I was surprised to find myself with 3 kids born in 3 years (one set of twins and then a surprise single). You just never know what will happen.

Beautiful post, Sue!

Reply March 20, 2010 at 03:14 PM


Julianna said...

We lost our first baby girl to Turner's. I am shortly due to deliver our 4th girl since that first baby but I still always wonder about her and how life would be if she had lived.

Reply March 21, 2010 at 04:54 PM


amy m said...

Oh my gosh, Sue. What a post.

I think if I were in your boat, I'd do the same exact thing that you are doing--she's so little now, that you never know how medicine will change 20 years down the road.

It's smart for us all to chat about the different ways that babies arrive in our lives, so I think I'll start that over here sooner than later. Why not?

Reply March 22, 2010 at 10:56 AM


Cheryl Rosenberg said...

What a beautiful, moving post. Being a mom is just so hard, isn't it? Especially when we want so much for our children. There is more than one way to become a mother, as you so eloquently pointed out, and we never know what the journey will entail.

Thank you so much for sharing!

Reply March 24, 2010 at 09:16 AM


Julie said...

Sue- I am a mom to a Turner's girl about to turn 8. I could not have written this post more perfectly. It is my thoughts and feelings exactly. I'd love to be in touch with you as we could relate so well. Please email me if you get a chance: pamperedjules@yahoo.com thank you for sharing so honestly. It was beautiful and so telling of the love of a mother. Julie

Reply March 24, 2010 at 09:54 AM


Floral Joy said...

That was a beautiful story. I'm sure that when she gets older, she'll love her children very much no matter how she gets them.

Reply March 24, 2010 at 02:42 PM


J. Rudolph said...

She's 4. Between now and when she will be old enough to start a family she (and you) might find that enough progress has been made that the heart condition might not in fact preclude her from bearing her own children. Why try to cross that bridge now when you've barely even started out on the road that leads to it? The best you can do is what you've already been doing, i.e., telling her about all the other ways there are to have a family, and being there as her support if it turns out she is not able to have children of her own and those alternatives are of little comfort to her. For now, just let her be 4 and enjoy the world she has created for herself. You'll be doing both of yourselves a favor.

Reply May 06, 2010 at 07:41 PM

just dandy

I loved your comments on my last post! And not just because you all think like me. It's because you're pretty.

I wasn't sure how to give more details without giving TOO MANY details, but here goes.

Tide signed up for a science camp that sounded cool, to me. The camp was free to us, and actually, they PAY the kids a stipend to attend. (Which, looking back, could have been a red flag, I dunno.)

He went to the camp for two days and hated it. It was a lot of lectures and sitting around and not that much hands on science. (According to him, anyway.) Which doesn't really sound like a good schedule for a bunch of 12-year olds, if you ask me.

He was totally willing to give up his stipend if he could skip the last 3 days.

(And as I mentioned before, for me, having a kid in camp is more of a pain because I have to roust everyone and load them up to drop off and load them up again for pick up, and for this particular camp, without saying too much, that was more convoluted than normal.)

So in the end, I let him skip it. If I had paid for the camp, if we needed it for daycare purposes or if it was an educational requirement, I would have made a different choice. But to have him sitting there doodling on a piece of paper and staring at the clock for 7 hours seemed like a colossal waste of his time.

So I went with my Life is too Short philosophy, which, this time, was a good choice.

Our neighbors, who moved to Germany for a few years, were in town and he got to spend some time catching up with his friend, which we didn't think was going to happen. In the end, that was a much better use of his time.

Bounce was THRILLED to have her BFF back in town for awhile, which also coincided with her 10th birthday. (Birthday post coming soon.)

And I get to have the reunion tour of our Birthday Club girls tonight. Even though we all started as neighbors and now one is in Germany, one moved 20 miles north for better schools (and OMG I have a post about that because, how shameful is it that the public schools 20 miles north of here are UNFREAKINGBELIEVEABLE and ours here are also, well... UNFREAKINGBELIEVEABLE, but in an entirely different way.)

So there's two of us left here, but for tonight, we'll all be sitting around the same table again. Squeee!

Besides all that, we've been doing the usual summer stuff... bowling (do you have a Kids Bowl Free location near you? Sign up!), watching movies, eating hot dogs and burgers and corn and LOTS and LOTS of swimming.

I'm getting ready for BlogHer which is in a few weeks (and by getting ready, I mean, mostly, FREAKING OUT)... it's my first one... I'll post more about that tomorrow.

question of the day

So when something seems truly horrible... or if not horrible, at least a big waste of time... and there's not a real benefit to doing it... do you finish it out or just let it go?

The older I get, the more I am in the camp of Life Is Too Short to Waste My Time, am I right?

Now, suppose this is one of your kids.

Do you teach him/her to see things through to the end? Or do you acknowlege that life is too short to do things you hate that pretty much have no benefit?

one of the many things that makes me crazy

Dear Insurance Company,

Thank you SO MUCH for the opportunity to have my very own debit card connected to my Flexible Spending Account so I can use it for doctor's office charges. As you know, we go to the doctor quite a bit around here.

It seems like such a huge technological LEAP to be able to directly access the money we have put aside for medical expenses, without all the pesky paperwork of submitting receipts and waiting to get reimbursed.

Which is why I kinda don't get why you've been sending me so many letters lately. You know the ones that say "PLEASE SUBMIT A RECEIPT FOR THE FOLLOWING CHARGES" and then you list every. single. charge. I have made at a doctor's office.

It kind of reminds me of something... I'm not sure exactly what...

Oh wait! I KNOW!

It reminds me of submitting each receipt individually! Like before we had a debit card!

Wow! Weird!

And you know what's funny? These are the same doctors that we go to OVER and OVER and OVER again. And? CHILDREN'S somethingsomething PEDIATRICS? somebody and somebody EAR, NOSE and THROAT GROUP? What do you THINK I might be buying there that would not fall under the category of medical expenses?

And you know what else is funny? The very same computer system that I can use to keep track of all these charges ALSO has all the Explanation of Benefits forms showing WHAT DOCTORS we have been to and HOW MUCH they have charged us. You know, the stuff you want ME to send you? It's right there... in your OWN COMPUTER SYSTEM.

And you know what ELSE is really funny? I don't own a fax machine. I don't work in an office. I really have almost NO USE for a fax machine. Except for faxing paperwork to you, that you actually already have. So I don't really feel like BUYING a fax machine just for that. Especially since I am spending a LOT of money paying doctor bills. (As you can also see. In your computer system.) But you don't have a mailing address. (REALLY?) Or an email account. (REALLY?) Both much easier ways for me to send you stuff. Why, insurance company, why?

And I have one more super duper funny thing to share with you. The closest fax machine to me? Is at a Kinkos. It's not that far away, really. But my kids? Are banned from there. For some reason, all the big copy machines at Kinkos and the wide open spaces make them run wild and disrupt people. And the people at Kinkos frown on that.

(Did I mention that Kinkos charges a dollar a page for faxing? Because they do.)

So basically, I can leave my kids home alone (which is actually illegal here in Maryland) or I have leave them locked in the car out front (not a good idea in the heat of summer and probably also illegal) so that I can pay to fax you the information you need so that I can access MY VERY OWN MONEY.

Or you could look it up in your own damn computer system.

Now what seems easiest to you? Because, seriously? I'm at the point that I think I need therapy in order to control my anxiety over this. Except (and now THIS is so insanely funny) that going to a therapist would be ANOTHER medical expense that you would ask me to fax in a receipt for.

Very truly yours,

yum doesn't even begin to cover it

OMG, you all. I promised CUPCAKES... AGES ago! Where are the days flying to? (Or? To where are they flying?)

I've discovered something. I cannot blog, and READ all the blogs I like, AND do all my actual, you know, JOBS, like keep track of the kids, and wash their barely dirty clothes and drive them places and cook yummy food that they hardly eat and listen to every. single. little. thought. that pops into their heads AND break up all their fights.

I just can't do it all.

I was feeling very out of touch in the blogging world... I hadn't even been OPENING my Google Reader. In like, AGES. I had well over 1000 unread posts.

So this week, in preparation for BlogHer, which is just ONE MONTH AWAY, I decided I should really catch up, so if I run into one of the bloggers I stalk read, I can say, "Hey! I loved that post you just did on stool samples, recently!!" *(Ok, sorry. Stool sample references and cupcakes should never appear in the same post. But, heh. I couldn't resist.)*

Anyway, after catching up in my Google Reader, I now know what's going on the blog world (and Quinn's intestines), but my house is a disaster, I haven't posted on my own blogs, and at last count, I was down one kid.

Seriously, how do you all DO IT?

So let's talk about our first Camp Mom field trip of the summer, which involved the most delicious cupcakes on the FACE OF THE EARTH. I'm really sorry if you are reading this and don't live in the DC area, because it's really not fair to the rest of the world that WE have these cupcakes, and YOU don't. But they do ship nationwide! So don't despair... you may have to sell a kidney to afford it all, but I can promise you, if you don't have any family history of kidney disease, it is TOTALLY WORTH IT.

So way back in June, I met these lovely ladies at the DC Metro Moms Brand/Blogger Symposium, at the very fancy Ritz Carlton in Pentagon City.


Sisters, Katherine Kallinis and Sophie LaMontagne and their proud mom.
Seriously? Can you even tell which one is mom?

They are the founders of Georgetown Cupcake, one of the most successful cupcakeries in the area. And with good reason - I have eaten a LOT of cupcakes and theirs are the best. Hands down.

Katherine and Sophie made cupcakes for my kids in flowerpots with chocolate/Oreo icing, flowers and gummy worms (SO adorable and I don't have a picture of the actual ones because they were eaten faster than I could get the snaps on my camera bag unlatched, but see what they looked like in the back there) while I munched on OMG, a salted caramel cupcake (all way on the right, with the delicate ribbons of caramel on top).



It was absolutely in the top 10 of things I have ever put in my mouth. Seriously.

So the first week of summer, Bounce had a summer camp near the Bethesda location of Georgetown Cupcake. (But I would totally go all the way to Georgetown for them. Totally. Even though I hate parking in Georgetown with the intensity of a thousand burning suns. Because? SALTED CARAMEL CUPCAKES.)

Parking is no picnic in Bethesda either, but on this particular day, when I had 6 kids with me, there was a primo space right in front of the store. *cue the chorus of angels*

We bought a dozen, and I'll be honest, internet, I let the kids each have ONE. I gave a few away. And then I ate THREE of them. Ok, four. And then I died and went to heaven.




Because? I thought salted caramel was the best flavor? But now I'm not so sure. Because chocolate ganache and mocha and lemon blossom????? OMG. It is a damn good thing I don't live in Bethesda or Georgetown or I would have had to have bariatric surgery by now.

OMG, you all. It's like you think it can never taste better than that first perfect cupcake, BUT THEN IT KEEPS GETTING BETTER AND BETTER.

Next time I go, I hope to be without six kids so I can sit down right there with a cup of coffee and devour an entire half dozen on my own. (But FIRST, I need to run the BlogHer 5K. Another post coming on that soon.)

So if you want to see Katherine and Sophie in action (and can I say, one of those names is near and dear to my heart...), you can watch DC Cupcakes on TLC premiering on July 16th. Set your TIVO right now! (How perfect! That day may or may not be the birthday of one of my kids, who may or may not be named Katherine or Sophie! I think this calls for C U P C A K E S! Squeee!)

P.S. There are WAY TOO MANY "OMG"s in this post... but TRY THE CUPCAKES. You will see why.

(Disclosures: As part of the DC Metro Moms Brand/Blogger event, I received 4 kids cupcakes and one amazing salted caramel cupcake for free. I also got a pair of flip flops that say TLC which I LOVE because I LOVE TLC, but alas, they were too small, so I gave them to one of my kids. Sophie or Katherine. Heh. The next dozen cupcakes, were financed by me. And I had to buy my own pair of flip flops. Which don't say TLC and aren't nearly as cool.)

tales from the bathroom stall

Because I spend at least 1/4 of my time at the pool there...

Hopefully your kids are too young to watch TeenNick or Disney XD or any of the other sassy crap that's on TV, but if they aren't you will appreciate this:

Shout: I know why you don't want us watching DeGrassi (if you don't know DeGrassi, thank your LUCKY PURE STARS... *shudder*)... it's because it's too MATURE

Me: That's right. Too much teenager stuff.

Shout: (very seriously, while swinging her legs and sitting on the potty) Like PHONES.

Indeed.

(It's more like soft p0rn... but phones will do.)