The Fish Pond

Blink, BAM

Time is speeding by. So caught up in exams, graduations, then camps, and a whole new year of new schools, new classes, soccer practices and games, music lessons, appointments, evaluations, OT visits, I blinked, and six months were past.

Twenty years ago, I blinked, and the day was over in a flash. I blinked again, we'd survived our first tenuous year as husband and wife, defining our own roles and figuring out how our marriage would work, for us. I blinked again.

BAM. Twenty years, four kids, a dog, a minivan, a mortgage. Seems like yesterday we were those foolish kids, no idea what was ahead of us.

Tonight, thanks to the shutdown, my out of work yet still employed husband and I will have a small picnic, likely in the van due to rain, with our two youngest kids, while our two oldest are at youth group, instead of exchanging gifts of china or platinum. It'll be great.

And that's why we're still married after 20 years. Happy Anniversary, BigDaddyFish. Looking forward to the next blink.

Springtime Issues

So, the weather is finally starting to get nice around here, though now I'm faced with a dilemma: do I open up the house to air it out, keeping in mind that I'm ridiculously allergic to oak tree pollen and the oak trees are doing their sexy-time thing, or do I keep the house closed up, and continue what will forever be known as 2013, the Year of the Stomach Bug? Today the choice was air it out. My eyes hate me. But if the young people in this house stop puking, it's worth it. I think.

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I finally got rid of Das Boot. I spent a total of 22 weeks in the two versions of the boot. Just about half a pregnancy. It was not the most fun time of my life. But I keep reminding myself, at least I can walk. Though honestly, it's called a non-union fracture for a reason.

Today my physical therapist called it "shifty." So apparently I have a criminally suspicious ankle. The therapist taped it up today to keep it from sliding around when I walk and it's made a huge difference. Now I'm regretting that I didn't get surgery. A couple of pins or screws and healing within a couple of months would have been certainly preferable to this, methinks. We'll see after a couple of months of PT. My running days are over forever, though. I told the kids if we're ever chased by a bear, I'm the bear snack and they should just keep running. This ankle will never be the same.

It seems all four kids have inherited my feet and ankles, as we just had to buy orthotics for all of them (what are the odds of THAT?). Maybe we can just wait til they perfect bionic ankles, and get a family group discount on new ones?

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My dishwasher has been broken since before we went on vacation last summer, and I've been stuck doing all the dishes by hand ever since. I'm not good at it at all, we used probably five times as much water as we use with the dishwasher.

Since I've been hampered in my ability to go up and down the stairs, BigDaddyFish has been doing the laundry (we have a four level townhouse, bedrooms are two floors up from the machines in the basement). Two months ago, the washing machine broke, and BDF fixed it the following weekend. Trout asked, "How come we still haven't gotten a dishwasher but the washer was fixed right away?" I laughed and told her because Daddy was doing the laundry. If he'd been doing dishes, we'd have a new dishwasher. But she must have asked him about it, because last week we bought and installed my precious. I lurve this dishwasher. I don't have to rinse anything, except apparently scrambled egg residue, and it gets it cleaner than our last dishwasher ever did, even with soaking. It's so quiet that I have to bend over and put my ear near it to hear whether it's on or not. It's amazing and if you need a dishwasher, right now I'd recommend this one. We'll see how it holds up to our abuse over time, though. We run it at least once a day, sometimes up to three if I'm doing a lot of cooking. We've been in this house just about 14 years and this is our fourth or maybe fifth dishwasher.

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Sunny brought home a paper from school that asked them to complete the sentence "If I found a pot of gold I would...." Her response? "Donate it to a museum and go on with my life."

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Sunny was accepted to the same magnet program Little Man has been attending for the last two years. Last year was wonderful for him, with a ton of growth on his part. This year, though, there is a teacher who, well, is probably burned out. And she isn't even nice. It's clear from her behavior that she doesn't like either my kid or me.

He threw up in class a couple of days ago, and when I asked him why he didn't just run across the hall to the bathroom he said, "I didn't know I was going to throw up until I did. But I also had to make sure [teacher] saw me so she wouldn't think I was faking it." When I came to pick him up he got to the car and then told me he didn't have his binder or his books to do his work. I went back in to get them, and when the teacher came to give them to me, she basically shoved them in my hands and walked off without saying anything, not even "Hope he feels better."

He was sick a lot of the year and missed a lot of school, not one big chunk but a few days here, a couple there kind of thing. It turns out he probably had mono like Nemo did, but we didn't find that out until Nemo got mono himself. I think she thinks he's a malingerer. And while he is a horrific procrastinator, and he doesn't like to work on assignments that he doesn't like and there have been many of those this year, he does good work once the assignment and he "click."

I don't know what she'd have me do - you can lead a boy to his paper and pencil and take away all electronic devices, but you can't make him write. He has to want to do that himself, and frankly he'd rather be taking apart a computer and putting it back together again than writing an analysis of a book that he hated reading or writing about how he got a particular answer in math. He hates to write, though he writes well once he does it, but he has to write with everything in this program.

I have no problem with the teachers failing him if his work isn't up to snuff, if he misses deadlines or forgets to turn stuff in; in fact, I want them to do it. He needs to learn the consequences of his choices and I'd rather he do that now, in fifth grade, than his junior year of high school when the stakes are so much higher. I'm not going to do his work for him, and I'm not going to be there his whole life to keep him organized and on task. They seem to think this is weird.

So I don't know if I want to go through dealing with this teacher all over again with Sunny. Now, Sunny's a different kid. She enjoys doing homework. I almost never have to tell her to do it, and she loves writing. She's more organized and persistent and can handle the heavy workload better than Little Man has, and is much better about advocating for herself if she doesn't know something or has a question. She's not shy in any way. I know fourth grade will be fantastic for her; one of the fourth grade teachers (there are two for each grade, and they work as a team) is one of the best teachers I've ever seen and I've seen many. But I feel like the fifth grade teachers will judge Sunny based on Little Man's performance.

I don't know what we'll do. We'll think, and discuss, and pray, and make what we feel is the best decision for Sunny.

Sometimes this grownup stuff is hard, ya'all.

A Few Years Later...

Trout was giving me a hard time about her being "a stick" and me decidedly not being a stick, more like the opposite of stick. We had a long discussion about body types and image and how "stick" isn't something to aspire to and she really shouldn't become all that attached to her stick, because it likely is fleeting. We talked about how having a healthy body is most important, regardless of appearance, because I used to be a stick myself, and I never, ever learned good eating habits because I could. eat. anything. Whole chocolate cakes in one sitting, and never gained an ounce. Until I did. I had to learn good habits the hard way, later, when I had to for my own health. And I don't want her to have to go through that.

She was quiet for a while, then said "You were a stick? Come on, Mom." I showed her my wedding picture, but that big puffy dress really didn't help the issue. Not what I wanted her to take away from the conversation, but she IS 13. I know she heard me, but I'll be the last person she'll show.

We're in the process of cleaning out our basement, which we use primarily for storage, so that we can put desks down there and make it a reading/homework/crash room for the bigger kids so they can get some space away from the littles. As we were going through the 9,487 rubbermaid bins and purging an embarrassing amount of stuff, I found a perfect case-maker. My prom dress, circa 1988, hand made by my aunt (in Colorade while I was here - she made my wedding dress too and she's awesome) and so kept for all these years. This one:

In all my best-I-could-do not-big hair (oddly, on the hair front, when I was pregnant for the fourth time my hair went curly with more body and NEVER WENT BACK. I would have done ANYTHING, and spent a huge amount of money attempting, to get my hair to do what it does without my asking now).

So what did I do?

"Hey, Trout, c'mere! Put this on."

So she did. Her brother came downstairs and said "Whoa, you look good." High praise. I reminded her that I wore that dress, made for me, at age 17. She's 13.

"You WERE a stick, Mom."

"Um hm. I was. But I wasn't healthy. And you could be healthier, too. Those habits you learn now will help you once, as happened with me, you get a desk job and have to actually work out, which you may hate with the passion of a thousand suns, but can't keep up with your bad habits. And when you have children of your own, and devote years of your life to them at the expense of your own."

We're both still works in progress, but I think I made my point. She took off the dress, went for a bike ride, and chose apple slices and milk for her snack.

 

Over It

Uncle. I'm done.

I'm still dealing with the blasted ankle. Still in the boot, still with the bone stimulator. I lasted about three weeks wearing the thing at night, until one night one of the electodes somehow came off my ankle and ended up stuck to the opposite buttcheek. No idea how that happened since it beeps loudly any time the electrodes aren't making contact with skin. No idea what I ended up stimulating there (don't let the name fool you, I don't feel anything when it's on), but decided I didn't want to stimulate anything except the broken bone and didn't want to risk that happening again. So I don't sleep in it, but I wear it all the rest of the time.

The girls weren't feeling well over Christmas, so BigDaddyFish took them to the doctor on the 26th. Long story short: Trout had the flu with a side of strep, and Sunny had probablyjustgottenovertheflu with a side of pinkeye. They got a bunch of medicines, but a few days later Nemo spiked a fever. His turn with the flu. By the end of winter break they were all healthy and sent back to school. That didn't help me, though, and I got the flu worse than anyone else over New Year's Day, followed up with a difficult to shake sinus infection a week later.

A week back to school and Little Man came down with a sore throat, so we went off for a culture that turned up negative. We discussed that he's been sick off and on pretty much all school year, and if he gets sick again with anything in the next two weeks, he'll be facing blood work for lyme and mono and other things to find out why he keeps getting sick.

This morning, Nemo grabbed his throat, said "I have such a sore throat. I don't think I can go to school," and sighed heavily, complete with overly dramatic shoulder drop. Yeah, and that doesn't have anything to do with the two-ish inches of snow outside? I felt his cool forehead and told him to suck it up, buttercup, you're going to school when BDF hollered from the other room "Lymph nodes don't get that way for no reason." Huh? So I grabbed his neck and felt his glands.

"Flashlight. Now." Just a quick peek in the mou....holy mother of pearl. Tonsils bigger than golf balls, angry and red, adorned with bumps and whitish spots.

Ewkay. Off to the pediatrician, CERTAIN of a strep diagnosis.

The nurse took the culture, the doctor came in and started to ask all the usual questions, like "How long has he been feeling sick? What are his primary symptoms? Does he have a fever?" etc. and I just told her to look at his throat. That's all. Just look. That got a "Wow" out of her. We made small talk a bit, then she went out to check the culture, as a formality.

Negative. She was as flummoxed as I was. She looked back and forth between Nemo and I as he nattered on about how we got snow and how his brother and sisters were at school and how he has a dreamlite and it's a penguin and it makes stars on his ceiling. I asked what the percentage effectiveness of the rapid strep is, and she said when run 24 hours after onset of symptoms it's 98% effective. I thought to myself it wouldn't be the first time someone from my family fell into a rare 2% as I could see her thinking hard, struggling with what to do.

"Well, it's obvious he's got something. Those tonsils aren't borderline anything. It could be strep, but kids with mono can also look like that. So, we'll treat as though it's strep. If it is, it should respond to treatment fast, no more than 48 hours. If it doesn't, you need to bring all of them in for mono tests."

All of them? All four kids? Apparently so. There's a high likelihood that if one has it, others do too, even if they're asymptomatic. Alrighty then.

Last night I paged Dr. Google and looked at photos of strep throat and mono. I can see what she was talking about, they look very similar. Also, don't google those things if you have a weak stomach. Blech.

He was worse today. He's had three doses of the antibiotic.

I may have to open up the house and air it out, even if it is 18 degrees outside. Surely that'll kill whatever illness gremlin that is apparently living under my couch.

Right?

Right?

 

 

 

I Caught a Break, but Not the Kind I Wanted

So, remember my ankle? The one I broke back on July 2?

It's still broken. I know!

I wore a boot for 2.5 months, did PT for 8 weeks, and it was still hurting and more concerning, still swollen. My PT suggested wearing compression socks, but I went to a foot specialist who has been treating Trout for pain and joint instability; he's the only one who diagnosed her with one leg longer than the other (which should even out as she grows and we are treating with orthodics in the meantime).

Anyway, I saw the foot doctor a couple of weeks ago, and he re-xrayed it and looked grumpy and sent me for a CT scan. CT scan showed that the bone hasn't healed. He prescribed 6 more weeks in the boot, vitamin D and calcium supplements, and a bone stimulator. Thankfully the insurance company is paying for the bone stimulator in full, and while I was getting the device today, he noticed I had a short boot and apparently a light bulb went off.

I broke my fibula, which is one of the two bones in your lower leg, the one on the outside of the leg. Even though the break is down in the ankle, the entire bone needs to be immobilized to allow for proper healing, otherwise every time I move the leg it's tweaking the break.

Enter Das Boot v2.0, now with bone stimulating device!

 

The little thing that looks like a cell phone is attached to electrodes on either side of the ankle. Stimulating!

 

I have to wear the stimulator 24 hours a day, except when I'm in the shower. Which, I dunno, sleeping with a cell phone attached to my leg doesn't sound restful, so we'll see. I hate this boot, because it comes up so much higher than the other one, and my mobility is so much more restricted. Good thing almost all my pants are bootcut.

In other news, the kids have been trading illnesses back and forth for three weeks, BigDaddyFish had his gallbladder removed a couple of weeks ago; it was full of stones that varied in size from 2mm to 1cm, and he couldn't pass any of them. He'd been in pain and not sleeping for months, and we are so grateful that he can both eat and sleep again, which means so can the rest of us.

I am so not ready for Christmas. We have a tree up, but nothing on it. Thank God for amazon.com prime and online shopping. I hope you and your family have (or had, if applicable) a wonderful holiday. Thank you so much for reading my nonsense - I appreciate you more than you know.