Creature Bug

Friday's Quick Takes

: 1 :

Not too far down the road is a local greenhouse shop. Even though I have no memories of ever going there when I was a kid--and I know they were there--I've mostly staked it out as my go-to plant store. They are not the cheapest, although I can't imagine that they are the most expensive either. But they are local, and I drive by them almost every single day.

A week ago, they posted their opening date on their reader board: March 20. First day of spring.

Jules had asked when we were going back to the greenhouse, and I said, "We'll go there after school on the first day of spring."

Spring arrived.

It was cold and windy outside, but inside the greenhouses was exactly what spring should look like. My girls and my niece ran along the rows of flowers oohing and ahhing over all the pretty flowers. We walked in the first greenhouse and oh! Pansies! So each of the girls picked out a pansie.

We walked in the second greenhouse and oh! Hyacinths! So each of the girls picked out a hyacinth.

Yes, I'm a sucker for nice smelling plants.

Addie was so funny because she was just like the older girls: very specific about which plant she wanted. She could not be coerced into another color, no she could not. She wanted the burnt orange pansie and the blue hyacinth, no matter how much her sisters wanted her to get a flower that matched theirs.

(And, yes, she was only wearing socks. Because we could not find shoes. The end.)

Sydney picked out this purple daisy plant. It has a name. I am not a plant name rememberer.

: 2 :

My spring break is this coming week. I always love spring break because I always love school holidays. In terms of functionality, I can't do much other than what I always do on regular days because Jason and the girls have spring break the following week. Yep. Southern Washington's spring break is always the first week in April, and Northern Oregon's spring break is the last week in March. Ergo, for the rest of our professional careers, Jason and I will never have the same spring break.

If I worked full-time, this might be kinda miserable. But since I don't, then it's almost as if I get two spring breaks. Last year, I got my spring break, and then Jason and I went to Scotland during his. It's not a big deal for me to cancel classes at this point in the semester, so it's a win win for me.

: 3 :

My lovely sister's birthday was yesterday.

She had decided that for her birthday she wanted to get out of town, so she's spending several days in Belgium.

I told her that it sounds pretty fancy to me. "Oh, you know, thought I'd fly up to Belgium for my birthday."

The perks of living in Europe!

: 4 :

At the beginning of the year, I made a goal to read two books a month. Of course, for people who read a lot, two books doesn't sound like much. And while I used to read a lot, I just don't that much anymore. Well, that's not entirely true. I do read a lot. I just don't read a lot of books. I read lots of online essays, magazine essays, and the newspaper.

As for my goal? I've read one book this year. I've tried a couple others but quickly drop them. I don't want anything sad. Or dysfunctional. Or angry. Or melancholy. Pretty much anything with conflict gets pushed off my nightstand. I'm not especially keen on anything thought provoking either. High literature also might be out.

When summertime comes along and my seasonal mood disorders brightens up a bit, then I can try some of those books, but until then I'm stuck reading nothing.

I'm taking recommendations.

: 5 :

Last Sunday, on a last minute's notice, I ran in Portland's Shamrock Run. Jason's coworker was supposed to run it, but then he got hurt. So then Jason was going to run it, but then he got sick. So then he said I should run it.

The Shamrock has several different distances, and I was really hoping I was running the 5K or even the 8K, but no, I was running the 15k (just over 9 miles). Even though I've been running, and even though I'm running a half marathon at the end of April, I'm still not in terrific shape. I decided I would be happy if I could run it in under two hours.

And at 1:48 I made my goal. I'll save you the trouble of doing the math: that's just over 11 minutes a mile. I am a slow runner. I am at peace with my slowness, though, because I have no aspirations of becoming fast.

I was prepared for miserable weather, but lo and behold we had gorgeous weather.

Thank you Saint Patrick, patron saint of runners hoping for nice weather in the middle of March (okay, not really. but he could be).

: 6 :

For the past two weeks, Jason has had soccer games on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. This means that he doesn't get home until late on those nights. That rotation is now over, and so now he will only have late weeknight games two days a week instead of three.

Doing bedtime all by myself turns me into the worst possible version of myself. It doesn't help that I have two kids who require extensive separate bedtime routines, but that is no excuse.

I feel guilty about not being a better parent, which turns into a low grade depression, which makes me exhausted, which disconnects me from my family. Consequently, I am feeling low.

If you are the kind of person who prays, I would appreciate your prayers. I have charted my moods over the past four springs, and I now realize that I will probably just always struggle with March, April and May. It's not just because Jason coaches soccer during those months, it's also because I am ready for warmer weather like you wouldn't believe. The trick is to not get so miserable that when June comes along I can't bounce back.

: 7 :

So as to not leave on that bummer note: Whenever the sun does come out, here is a common sight along our driveway.

These three have a funny little dynamic going on, but they are just crazy about each other.

**

I hope you have a great weekend! For more Quick Takes, check out Jen's page.

Trick or Treats

: TRICK :

I had to take Sydney to the doctor this morning to have a swollen lymph node checked out. I wouldn't have thought anything of it if both lymph nodes were swollen, but just one?

Seemed odd.

Our pediatrician gave Syd a thorough check-up, and then started asking Sydney about cats.

Do you play with cats? Any kittens at your home? Has a cat scratched you in the past 1-2 months?

I may be sleep deprived, but I guessed that the swollen nymph node probably had something to do with cats. We don't have cats, but there are cats here on the Family Farm. A couple months ago, Tuffy scratched Syd. Nothing serious, but it was a legitimate scratch.

Dr. Pediatrician finally said, "What I suspect is Bartonella henselae. Also known as cat scratch fever. It won't usually show up for awhile, and most likely it will go away on its own."

Cat scratch fever? Have you ever heard of this?

Seems like a made up disease, but evidently it's not. And it turns out that Sydney has several of the symptoms: headache, fatigue, sore throat (but she doesn't have strep; she was tested).

Craziness.

: TREATS :

Miss Penguin and Miss Rapunzel were in the house.

We wandered around the Family Farm getting treats, then went over to Jason's parents' house in a lovely subdivision where the girls scored buckets of candy.

Addie and I didn't go trick-or-treating. I thought she might spook too easily in the dark, and someone needed to stay back at the house to hand out candy. Plus, I have a terrible cold.

Hope you Halloween was full of treats and not too many tricks.

Especially cat scratch fever.

She's Disappearing

There is a fine line when writing about your children. Some stories belong to our children and don't necessarily need to be shared with the whole wide world.

Lately, I have wondered exactly how to approach telling the story of Jules. Maybe someday she'll find all this quite an invasion of her privacy, and to the future Jules reading this: I'm writing about this because I think it's important for our family. This story is not just your story. It's the story of us and you and your sisters facing this together.

*

Jules has always been a spicy kid. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow knew a girl like Jules.

There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
She was very good indeed,
But when she was bad she was horrid.

I would say that fits Julianne's personality (and looks) exactly.

Through various parenting techniques, we've managed to keep her more on the good and spicy side, rather than the opposite. We breathed a sigh of relief when she turned four, hoping that this would be the age that she would grow out of some toddler behaviors.

Rather than grow out of toddler behaviors, she seemed to regress into them. Except now she's older, stronger, smarter and has a much larger vocabulary.

I'm sure that having a new baby added to the family mix didn't help matters when it came to Jules, but her reactions in the last six months have been more severe than moderate, and her personality has become less sweet and spicy and more difficult.

At first, it was just the uncontrollable temper tantrums. She would scream and kick and cry for hours. So in June, we took Jules off red dye #40. There's a fair amount of research (here's just one link) that indicates red dye has a negative effect on children's behavior, and admittedly, we saw an instant improvement in her temper tantrums. We thought that maybe we had found a solution to the over-emotional behavior.

But the improvement was short lived. Over the course of the last two months, Jules' anger level has skyrocketed. Not just a little bit of anger.

A lot of anger.

The kind of anger you might see with kids who have gone through a traumatic event, except that we can't identify what kind of traumatic event she could have gone through (and believe me, I have asked her all the important questions that could be asked).

The kind of anger that has Jules telling us she hates us. Every day. Has her saying no. To every request.  Has her punching, kicking, biting, screaming, throwing things. Last Tuesday she got irritated with me as she was taking a bath, so she emptied out the bathtub in a fit of rage. "You are a stupid woman," she screamed. Having grown weary of the "It's not okay to call names" line, I said instead, "I think you meant to say 'Happy Anniversary, Mama.'" 

I tell her she can hate us. We still love her.

I tell her she can't call names. It's unkind.

Obviously, we're doing more than just talking to her about her behavior, but even the great techniques of Positive Discipline haven't made a huge difference in Jules.

Day after day, my loving daughter is vanishing before my eyes.

I met with a child psychologist a couple weeks ago, and 90 minutes later I felt no better than when I had gone in. I'm all for counseling, but I'm pretty sure that "well, good luck with that," isn't a helpful option. The counselor's assessment was that Jules just hadn't grown out of the Terrible Twos. And maybe it was my fault for downplaying Jules' behavior. Either way, I felt like my concerns weren't taken seriously.

We are exhausted and disheartened and unsure of what is going on.

Last week, we met with a naturopath who did take our concerns seriously, including one particular erratic behavior that Jules just recently started doing. We explained what was going on, and when I said, "I've been reading all these parenting books, but I just feel hopeless."

He said, "It's not a parenting thing. You know that, right? It's something else. It's chemical."

I feel sure that there is something happening beyond my parenting abilities. I just wish I knew what it was. And even knowing that there is something doesn't actually make me feel that much better.

On the doctor's advice, we are having Jules go dairy/gluten free. It's a big leap. It feels overwhelming, and I haven't really let myself cry about it, although now as I type it out, I'm feeling pretty weepy. Fortunately, we live near Portland where DF/GF stuff is easily accessible. In fact, we don't even have to go into Portland for that kind of food. There are specialty stores just down the road.

Unfortunately, we don't know that it will work (even though there is a ton of research out there that proves gluten affects mood).

And unfortunately, we're still dealing with one angry kid who breaks our hearts every day. It's hard to take her places anymore. Hard to be in the car with her. We can't have cousins sleep over anymore. Can't get through a family meal without serious incident. In short, it's just plain hard to be around her.

Jason and I are responding to the situation in much different ways, which in turn has been tough on our relationship.

I'm trying to be optimistic because I have to believe that our sweet girl isn't gone forever. I would consider the atmosphere of our household fairly toxic right now, and even though all my prayers for patience are not going unanswered, I can't imagine much more of this.

*

On Monday, Jules is having some bloodwork done, and maybe the results will give us some direction. We're meeting with the naturopath twice a week for the next few weeks, and maybe that will help too. Maybe the DF/GF diet will help.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

This much is true: Something happened to our sweet girl, and I will do whatever it takes to get her back.

A word of thanks from Addie

Last night, the respiratory therapist took Addie completely off oxygen. It was a bit rough at first. She had some extended moments of her O2 stats being in the upper 80s, which is not good enough. But she worked at it, she continued to nurse, she even decided to keep me up for a few hours in the middle of the night showing me her new trick of rolling over. I was happy in my heart, even if I was so exhausted I could hardly keep my eyes open.

We got through the night, and guess what?

Well, I'll let her tell you the good news.

Four nights and three days later, we get to go home.

She and I celebrated by having a dance party in the hospital room. Oh yeah. A little "Hey Soul Sister" was definitely in order.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your prayers. You'll never know how much it meant to me.

From the 9th Floor

When we first arrived at Doernbecher Children's Hospital, the EMT--we arrived by ambulance--told me that we would be going to the ninth floor.

"We take kids to the 9th floor and the 6th floor. The 6th floor* is sad; it's good you aren't going there."

I knew, of course, what she meant by "sad." Any parent can read between the lines on that one.

So, here we are on 9th floor, feeling grateful even though it's certainly been one of the more difficult weeks of my life. Other than when I had my babies, I've never stayed overnight in the hospital. Other than when they were born, my babies have never stayed the night in the hospital.

Until now.

(Edited to add: the EMT must have got her numbers mixed up a little bit; as far as I can tell, the Children's Hospital doesn't have a sixth floor, and perhaps she meant the 7th floor. But the EMT still made her point.)

*

So here's the update, some of which you might have already read on Facebook.

Addie is still on oxygen, but not as much. When she arrived, they had her on 60% oxygen (room level oxygen is 21%). She's now on 31%. She no longer has a fever. And today, for the first time since Monday evening, I was able to nurse her. Three times, in fact. It was a happy happy moment.

She still has a crackle sound in her lungs, but her respiratory rate is improving. When she arrived, she was taking at least 80 breaths a minute. As of this evening, she was down to 50.

Her energy level is improved, and she's smiling even at the masked doctors who sometimes make her mad when they suction out goop from her nose. Because Addie has RSV, then she is considered to be in isolation. This means all the doctors have to wear gloves, masks, and coats, and those gloves, masks, and coats have to be disposed of in this room--they can't go out into the hallway.

After tonight, the doctors--and because this is a teaching hospital, there are lots and lots of doctors who see us when they make the rounds--will assess Addie's breathing and see if she can go home tomorrow. Maybe. Hopefully. But if not tomorrow, then Friday. As one doctor said, "She's definitely on the upward swing."

It'll be good when we get home, but it does bring me a great measure of peace knowing that she is getting some really good care and treatment here.

*

I will say, there have been scary moments.

Monday morning, when Addie couldn't breathe and was vomiting, I was scared.

On Monday afternoon, when I called the advice nurse and she listened to Addie's breathing over the phone, and then said, "You need to take her to the emergency room," I was scared.

I was scared when the ER doctor told me she had pneumonia, "extensive pneumonia," she said.

I was scared when I watched her oxygen stats fall into the low 80s when healthy levels are in the upper 90s.

When the nurses tried and failed three times to get an IV in Addie's head, I could barely keep from sobbing. Addie screamed--in pain and in terror--and even now when I remember that moment...tears.

It's been a rough week, that's for sure.

Not once, though, have I felt alone. I knew lots of people were praying for Addie, and just when I needed some encouragement, a little button on my phone would light up and I'd read someone's words letting me know that they were praying. They were thinking of Addie.

You were thinking of Addie.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

As a person of faith, a person who believes in the power of prayer, I believe that your prayers helped Addie. I believe in the power of medicine and wise doctors and progressive science too, but I believe that prayers brought the right medicine, the right doctors, the right science to help Addie out.

*

Yes, it's been hard. It's been scary. It's been exhausting.

But she's getting better. And here on the 9th floor, I'm grateful for that.

Just Breathe

That's what I whispered to my baby last night when she woke up coughing and wheezing.

"It's okay, baby. Just breathe."

We're on round two of RSV/bronchiolitis. The fever, the rapid breathing, the vomiting, the crying...it's all very hard on a regular-sized person, let alone a tiny person. Lots of babies are hospitalized for RSV, but I'm really hoping our baby isn't one of them.

Our family is normally quite healthy, but these last two weeks have been rough. Jules missed two days of school; Jason missed a day of school; Sydney missed Friday and today. I might be out tomorrow if Addie isn't better.

At some point I'll get Addie's alphabet picture taken, but I want "s" to be for "smiles" not for "sickness." If you think of it, send prayers for Miss Baby. She needs them.

R is for...

...RSV--otherwise known as respiratory syncytial virus--and it is cause for postponing today's "R" picture. Poor sweet Addie evidently picked up the virus last week sometime, and by Thursday night had a full-on case of bronchiolitis (diagnosed by her pediatrician on Friday morning).

Because Addie is a generally happy baby, it was very obvious she wasn't feeling well. She didn't want to eat, could hardly sleep, and around 1 am Friday morning I found myself sitting on the steps outside our front door, holding a feverish baby struggling to breathe.

Anyone who has held a child who's fighting for each breath can tell you it's one of the most agonizing things ever. Ever. 

I held her that night, counting her breaths. I watched her chest rise and fall--52, 53, 54, 55, 56--and could feel myself holding my own breath--57, 58, 59, 60. And then the minute would start over.

More than 60 breaths in a minute meant I needed to call 911.

She was close, but she kept it at 60 or under. In between the moments of listening to her breathe, I listened to the night sounds. I heard frogs croaking, heard the far-off sound of traffic crossing the Salmon Creek bridge. I heard tree needles fall onto the carport roof.

It was a quiet night, except for the labored breaths, except for the cry of pain after a cough.

That night there was no rest for the weary or the worried, but eventually morning came and with it an open doctor's office which gave Addie a breathing treatment and a prescription for an inhaler (with a special breathing tube that allows babies to breathe in the medication from the inhaler). Jason took the day off from work to watch over Jules--also sick--and allow me to nap when I could.

Friday night found Addie and I on the outside steps again, intermittently sleeping. We alternated between sleeping outside and sleeping on the bathroom floor as a hot shower filled the room with steam.

Again the quiet night. Again the coughs and wheezes. Again the frogs.

Yesterday and today, Addie has improved. She smiled this morning after a night spent entirely indoors, in bed. A good sign.

My arms and shoulders and neck ache, and I'm coming down with something myself, but it's okay. It's okay because we're okay.

We're all breathing at a normal rate, and for that I'm grateful.

I Can See Clearly Now

It's been almost five years since we learned that Sydney would need glasses.

Even though in the grand scheme of health issues it was minor, it felt major at the time. No parent wants to hear that their baby isn't perfectly healthy, eyes included.

I remember that first appointment well. We had to hold Sydney down and pry her eyes open in order for the doctor to get the dilating drops in. We had to do that when she was 1, when she was 2, when she was 3, and when she was 4. I don't have to tell you how hard it is to watch your child scream in terror and pain (although, to be honest, dilating drops aren't that painful, but enough to scare a kid).

Yesterday we went back to the doctor. When Jason's (and the girls') health insurance kicked in on October 1, one of the first things I did was make an appointment for Sydney's eyes since she hasn't had them checked in over a year. Over the course of the years, I have learned not to pat myself on the back too hard for being so calm about Sydney's eyes. Most of the time I am. Until we go to the doctor. And then suddenly, the surface of my calmness is a bit jittery.

Fortunately, the news from yesterday's appointment was good. The doctor reassured me that Sydney's eyes haven't gotten worse. They haven't gotten better, but we're not expecting that they ever will. When Sydney is reading (as opposed to when she is looking at a book that's being read to her), she holds a book about 6 inches from her nose, but evidently that's okay. Every time Sydney missed a letter in the vision test (seeing C's as O's, and H's as A's, and F's as P's) my heart lurched a little bit, but again, Dr. Landon said that was just fine (the vision missteps, that is, not the heart lurching).

And when it came time to put the dilating drops in, I stayed seated across the room from Syd. I didn't have to hold her down, didn't have to hold her hand (although she would have if I was close enough), didn't have to hear her cry. She calmly tilted her head back, and let the doctor put the drops in. She didn't much care for it--and said as much--but she was a real trooper. The only real moment of panic was when after her eyes were dilated, her glasses were momentarily taken away from her. "I can't see anything, Mama!" she whispered. "I can't see!"

"It'll be okay, Baby," I reassured her. "You'll get your glasses back soon." And soon enough the glasses were back, safely perched on Sydney's nose.

Five years ago, I wondered if Sydney wearing glasses would ever seem normal.

It didn't take five years for it feel normal.

What took five years was being able to leave the doctor's office without anybody shedding any tears.

I call that progress.

Reflexology & Acupuncture

I'm not one of those people who doesn't take medication. I'm on a first-name basis with my Costco-sized bottle of Excedrin, waited in line for three hours to get the girls their H1N1 vaccines, firmly believe in taking anti-depressants as necessary, and absolutely under no circumstances would endure an all natural labor and delivery. Here in the PacNW, a lot of people are all about the all-natural healing/pain remedies, and I can respect that. I say, whatever floats your boat. As for me, my boat would sink in a dramatic show of fire and screaming were it not for Excedrin and epidurals to help me manage pain.

I write all this to preface a new experience for me that's a little bit out of my regular routine.

Last Friday, my mil and I visited a healing center in Portland. In fact, we visited this healing center. We went to hear about an amazing skin care product, as well as have our feet treated to a bit of reflexology.

Anytime I get the chance to have someone rub my feet, I'm all on board. Even if it means going somewhere that has a more existential approach to life than I do. If a very nice existentialist wants to rub my feet, give me jugs of healing water, and provide some emotional therapy and a hug, I will not stop them. No sirree, I won't.

My assessment of reflexology and visiting GroundSpring Healing Center? It was a treat. A seriously lovely treat. Joanna was the therapist who spent some time with me, offering me gentle advice about how to deal with emotions, pinpointing areas on my feet that indicated some health concerns. I talked with her about my migraines, and she suggested acupuncture.

There's plenty of Eastern medical practices I wouldn't try, but acupuncture seems to have earned some credibility among traditionalists. I decided that I'd be willing to give it a shot. So next Wednesday I'm going in and, in fact, paying for someone to insert lots of tiny needles all over my face. Since I don't mind needles, I'm not the least bit nervous. Excited, actually.

If it doesn't work, I'm out $20. If it does work, my kidneys will thank me.

Either way, it'll be an interesting experience. I'll keep you posted.

I called Dr. Paul Offit and asked him about H1N1

Last Wednesday I called Dr. Paul Offit. I called him at his office, and then we set up a time for me to call him at home later that night (night for him, afternoon for me). And so I did.

It was surreal.

The whole thing happened because I off-handedly mentioned to David Wescott--the super nice PR guy who coordinated the whole GSK tour thing--that I really enjoyed Dr. Offit's books. He said he could arrange a phone call. I was like, "REALLY? REALLY?!" because I forget that people who network with other people have connections with People, and I don't have connections with anybody known for anything...except with my brother (and a lot of good that'll do me because I still can't get you his sold-out Inglorious Basterds poster).

I wasn't completely sure if David would remember our conversation, but he did. Because he's a star.

With the important digits in hand, I called Dr. Offit (he who invented a vaccine, is a major proponent of vaccines, and writes copiously about vaccines), and I asked him some questions about vaccines and H1N1. He was really nice, clearly passionate about the topic at hand, and even though that night he had to write an editorial for the New York Times (this one...essentially saying much of what I'm about to write here), I never felt like he was trying to hurry me up. Points to him.

While I was able to ask him questions about vaccines in general, I did want to get his perspective on the H1N1 vaccine. After all, according to an AP poll, one third of parents are not going to give their child the H1N1 vaccine. Aside from those who don't vaccinate their children because they perceive a link with autism (though even the most recent research shows there is no convincing link), there still remains a fair amount of people who are unsure about the H1N1 vaccine.

I can understand the concern. Who wants to give their child what appears to be an untested vaccine?

Here's what I got from Dr. Offit:

• Even though the H1N1 vaccine is new this year, it was produced the same way the annual flu shot is done. There's no mystery to its contents. In fact, the H1N1 vaccine would be in the general flu vaccine except that it came onto the scene too late to put them together. Timing forced doctors to make two shot.
• It's been tested just like the annual flu shot. (This seems to be a major sticking point with some people--the idea that it hasn't been sufficiently tested. If you think the flu shot is safe, the H1N1 shot is safe. If you don't buy into the flu shot thing in general, well then...this won't convince you.)
• Even though Dr. Kent Holtorf went on Fox News with concerns about the H1N1 shot containing adjuvants, this is not true. There are no adjuvants in the US's version of the H1N1 vaccine. Dr. Offit specifically mentioned this news clip as highly misleading and misinformed.
• In 1976, there was a swine flu vaccine that ended up being blamed for causing Guillain-Barre Syndrome. Gina Kolata's book Flu: The Story of the Great Influenza Pandemic contains an excellent chapter that articulates how the vaccine probably did not cause GBS, but that doctors were led to believe it could and therefore were looking for causal links. The CDC also gives some helpful information about this story. In Dr. Offit's opinion, the vaccine of 1976 did not cause GBS. At any rate, the swine flu of 1976 is not at all similar to the swine flu of today.

• Final words from Dr. Offit: "If you think it's bad now, wait until December or January. It'll be awful. It's remarkable that we got the flu shot ready in time, and now there will be so many who don't use it."

I'm no expert on the subject, but I feel better knowing I have spoken to someone who is.

I know it's hard to know what to believe. On Tuesday, I heard a report on NPR about the necessity to get the H1N1 vaccine. Then today I heard a report on NPR about Germany deciding not to give the H1N1 vaccine to healthy children. They argue that healthy people do not need the H1N1 vaccine. Also? Medical experts claiming the swine flu is really no big deal.

It's possible if I got the swine flu I wouldn't be hospitalized. It's possible if my kids got the swine flu they wouldn't be hospitalized. Or, it's possible they could end up in the hospital like Isabella Ragan. It's not really a gamble I want to take. Of course, at this point, it's a moot point. H1N1 vaccines aren't available in our area, and we don't have health insurance yet to go track one down.

Regardless of your decision to vax or not vax, you should be aware that H1N1 is highly contagious and not as easy to recover from as the regular flu. I've had students miss two weeks of classes due to the swine flu. Just because the government is encouraging you to get the vaccine isn't a good reason to not get one, although Rush Limbaugh would beg to differ that point. (That Slate article is a good one, btw. I snickered at the last paragraph.)

Check out the CDC's fact page for info, and make your decision an informed on.

What do you think? What's been your experience with H1N1?

My Field Trip to GlaxoSmithKline

Awhile back I read an article that attempted to explain why elementary school kids are often ridiculously fascinated with dinosaurs. Kids who can't remember to hang up their coats have this odd ability to memorize all sorts of facts about dinosaurs, becoming walking encyclopedias about the eating habits of the stegosaurus.

I'm not really that interested in dinosaurs, except the ones in Jane Yolen's books and Edwina the dinosaur who didn't know she was extinct. Otherwise...dinosaurs. Meh.

However, I get the whole obsessed-with-a-topic thing. Take me for instance. I enjoy reading about diseases and vaccines. I find it really fascinating. The history. The politics. The drama. I like it.

So when I got an invite to go out and tour the GlaxoSmithKline vaccine facility in Marieta, Pennsylvania, I was (first) amazed that I would get an invite considering I am not a high-profile blogger and (second) thrilled to pieces. Add into the invite that GSK was paying for the entire trip (airfare, hotel, food), and it was like winning the lottery. Minus actual money in my pocket, of course.

I'll write more about getting to hang out with my fellow bloggers who toured with me, but let me focus right now on the GSK facility.

The facility looked like a high school. Really. Lovely landscape. Some pretty trees. Brick exterior. For legal reasons (their lawyers were quite nervous about us coming in the first place) we couldn't take pictures, but I've scavengered some photos off the Internet just so you get the idea.

We got to spend about four hours at the facility, and got to hear from several people who were involved in the research, managing, education, and production of vaccines. The first couple hours were filled with some passionate presentations--presentations really providing a different look at how I might have perceived a big pharmaceutical company. I was alternately giddy with joy when someone mentioned Maurice Hilleman ("I read about him!" I squealed in my most unprofessional geeky voice) and moved to tears when one of the doctors talked about how vaccines are a "miracle." Say what you will about vaccines, but they have certainly done a great deal for humanity.

We got to ask some questions, some of which they had answers for, some they didn't. We had been told there were some restrictions on what they could say--no specific products mentioned, no personal medical advice--and so it's hard to not come off as evasive when you can't answer specifically. As it turned out, all the questions I didn't get answers to, I was able to ask a different medical professional today in a phone interview. More on that another day.

After the presentations we got to tour the facility which I think was just FDA certified in August. Although the place isn't necessarily geared for the general public (in fact, they've never before had a general public touring group) they have inspiring posters on the wall, and even a hallway painted in bright yellows and greens. I asked a guy about it--why the posters and happy paint? were they expecting lots of touring groups--and he said that it was simply to create a positive working environment. I can appreciate that.

We saw the gear the medical team uses when they're working in the aseptic area--the place where test tubes are filled with vaccine material. For obviously reasons (we couldn't strip down and put on specialized gear), we weren't allowed in the dirt/germ/hazardous material-free room, but we heard about it. And when someone asked if that room was ever really 100% clean of contaminants, our guide answered with a resounding "Yes."

 

Eventually we ended up in the room where vaccines are inspected and packaged, but not before we all had to suit up in gowns, booties, goggles, and hair nets (we all wished we had our camera at that point!). In a room near the production line, we got to see employees manually inspecting each vial at their personalized work station. In order to combat muscle and eye fatigue, the employees have specialized chairs and yoga blocks for comfort. Every 20 minutes they have to get up and move around a little bit, stretching their muscles. Very cool that GSK pays attention to that kind of thing.

We got to see a massive machine (affectionately called "the diva") packaging vaccines into boxes and witnessed all the safety precautions taken along the way. Certain colors for certain vaccines (they already have a plan for when they run out of colors...I asked). All their packaging is environmentally friendly. Cameras all along the machine insure that everything is labeled correctly. I saw a box missing an expiration date, and when it passed by the special camera, the box was bumped from the line. Safety in action. Of course, there are individuals all along the entire process, so even though the machine was fully automated, humans still have a critical role.

What I will always remember is what happened while we watched the Hib vaccine being packaged. One of the doctors who was on the team that created the vaccine was walking along with our group. He evidently hadn't seen his vaccine being packaged before, because when he saw it, right in front of his eyes, boxes and boxes of the vaccine that he helped create, he got a little emotional. "That's my vaccine," he said. Can you imagine? Seeing your work being prepared to be sent all over the country, saving children from a potentially fatal disease? I couldn't help but get a little choked up myself.

They told us about how they had been working hard to meet the vaccine shortage that is going around. Talked to us about how they would pull huge numbers of vaccines if a particular lot had problems (which they haven't had to do). Clearly communicated their passion for vaccines and patients' lives.

As if the facility itself wasn't impressive enough, I was really impressed by GSK in general. Specifically, many of the presentations and part of the tour were done by women...Impressive, strong, intelligent women. A couple of the bloggers asked GSK if the women leaders were brought out specifically to impress us, but, no. They really do have women in high ranking roles. Although this particular facility doesn't have on-site daycare, they do provide flexible scheduling for moms. In fact, the woman who was giving us part of the tour had to hand the tour over to someone else right at the end in order to go pick up her son. She returned as we finished our tour, and we all waved at her kid.

Yeah. I was very impressed.

The whole experience was really amazing. GSK didn't ask us to write about or tweet any part of our experience, but I am anyways because I think they did a good job. I'm not saying I'm all in favor of Big Pharma, but when it comes to vaccines and when it comes to their facility in Marietta? Well done.

More to come about meeting the other bloggers and eating some really good Cuban food in Philly.

For more accounts of our trip, check out The Feminist Breeder, Uppercase Woman, and Sarah and the Goon Squad. Oh, and the very funny Michael who writes the GSK Blog (and managed to impress us all with a Kierkegaard reference) also has a nice write-up.

Insurance, Vaccines, and a Trip to Philadelphia

Today is the last day we have health insurance. Or, at least, the last day we have the awesome health insurance that Jason got through work.

I'm kind of grumpy about it, but it is what it is. And I should be thankful that we have the means to buy our own coverage, right? That's what I tell myself anyway.

Because of our new situation, I've been following the federal government's health care initiative with great interest, and I think it'll be interesting to see how it all turns out. Frankly, I'd kind of like President Obama and the federal government to hurry up already and get a public option on the table, but that's a long ways (or never) away.

Back to the insurance shopping...At this point, it looks like we'll stick with Kaiser Permanente. I shopped around, seeing what was out there, but I always came back to KP. For one thing, I like their ads. Allison Janney does the voicing, and I loved her to pieces on West Wing (one of my all-time favorite tv shows). But more (and most) importantly: they don't charge you for well baby check-ups and vaccines.

As Jason likes to point out, I am easily riled up. And when it comes to vaccines, I get riled up. Pardon my emotional outburst here, but I am appalled that any HMO would charge parents for well baby checks. CHARGE parents for vaccines?! CHARGE parents to check the health of a baby? If you don't believe in vaccinations, then maybe it doesn't seem like a big deal. But for me--a strong advocate for vaccinations--I think booster shots should be free. No one should have to say they couldn't get their child vaccinated because they didn't have the money. Seriously, HMOs. Are you kidding me? Charging money for a child's vaccines? Outrageous.

Now let me tell you how I really feel about it...

Oh, all right. The entitled American will pipe down now.

The upside of getting riled up is that I'm thinking that's how I got an invite to tour the GlaxoSmithKline facility in Pennsylvania. Who knew reviewing books about vaccines and being all fussy about it would make a difference?

But indeed, GSK is flying me out to Philadelphia tomorrow, and then on Friday a bunch of bloggers will get to see how vaccines are packaged and all that super duper cool stuff. At least, I think it's super duper cool. A day at a vaccine facility! Two nights at a hotel! Meeting some very cool blogger folks! I even canceled my classes for it, and you know if I'm willing to part with a moment of discussing Irish literature than it must be important.

So, any questions you'd like me to ask GSK? I'll add them to my growing list. Also, anyone living in the Philly area want to meet up?

I probably won't be doing too much blogging while I'm gone, but you can follow my tour on Twitter. I fly back on Saturday, so check back here for the full scoop.

Now to pack...I think I'll even reread this book on the plane. Ooh. Yay!

Week 262: Afterword

While I am all for reflection and taking life lessons away of the events from your life, sometimes I think there are moments that are better left unquestioned. Sometimes the best thing to do is just move forward and be thankful that you're breathing on the other side of whatever happened.

Jason came home on Tuesday, and even though his flight was an hour late (drat you Chicago O'Hare and your constant tardiness!), it was still amazing to have him home. The girls were determined to stay up until he got home, and Sydney, bless her, managed to stay awake until midnight, but as soon as she got in the car to drive to the airport it was too much to keep her eyes open. She felt like a real trooper though, exhausted as she was.

And the joy of having Jason home was enough to carry us through two grueling days of moving out of our third-floor apartment in Salem. Up and down stairs, hauling, packing, aching muscles--and even though we are now all moved up to Washington, we've still been moving stuff around the house here. Let me tell you, if I ever have to move a Tempur-pedic matress again it will be too soon. Mattresses are hard enough, but Tempur-pedics? As my dad used to say when he was a professional mover: they're like carrying a fat woman full of beer. Ridiculously unwieldy. Meh.

The details of Thursday, however, get a little less filled with joy. As Jason was moving the cover for our bbq, he unfortunately also moved a nest of yellow jackets who then moved with great force and anger at Jason. Nearly a dozen bee stings later, Jason wasn't feeling so great.

But still! We were joyful! Jason was home! Bee stings and all!

Except then Friday, Jason woke up feeling the effects of being stung and let's just say that his body didn't respond well. And despite our best efforts to get him feeling better, in the end there was still a phone call to 911. And paramedics. And an ambulance. And a trip to the hospital where they ran all sorts of tests and cat scans and listened to his heart, wondering why he was having trouble staying conscious.

They figured it out though. And all is well. Nothing to be worried about. (Easy to say three days later...)

And while I was, in fact, crazy with worry, I had to keep it together because Sydney and I had a wedding rehearsal to attend. I couldn't go to the hospital, I had to pack. I had to drive. I had to push aside the worry and summon up all the joy I had for Rebekah's wedding. Which was gorgeous, by the way. And which Jason was able to attend, although my dad and Jason's mom had to do the driving because Jason wasn't allowed to drive.

So Thursday and Friday...didn't go exactly as planned. But Saturday?

 

 

Beautiful. And perfect. And wonderful. The bride was beautiful, the flower girl was adorable, the little sister of the flower girl was happy to be chewing gum, and the father of the flower girl was relieved to be out of the hospital.

The mother of the flower girl was quite relieved too. Exhausted, but relieved.

 

I keep thinking that at some point I'll be able to stop thinking, "Gosh. What a week." But it just seems to keep adding up. On top of all this, all last week a very dear family member was in the hospital for something much more serious than bee stings. It's not good news; it's sad news. It's news that will lead down a very difficult road.

Sometimes I can't stop to think about how it's all adding up because if I do I can't stop shaking. Mostly, life is good. God is good.

I can't complain, even if I am feeling pretty worn down. We wake up and are thankful we're together, under the same roof, snuggled together--the four of us--in bed. "There's monsters!" Jules giggles as we hide under the covers. "Hide! Hide from the monsters!" We hide until we have to come up gasping for air. Jules's advice? "Give the monsters some soup...and all better."

There's no hiding from monsters, but mercifully I still find myself with bowls full of soup.

Week 256: Too Loud and Too Quiet

Last week, Sydney came down with a terrible ear ache. Tuesday morning she woke up in pain and was uncomfortable all day. I thought about taking her in to the doctor, but I had a feeling it wasn't an infection but instead related to her cold. I try to avoid going the route of antibiotics if possible.

Wednesday her other ear hurt, and we worked through it with Tylenol, ear drops, and a clove of garlic taped to her ear.

By Thursday morning her ears didn't hurt anymore.

We were all relieved, until I realized that even though her ears don't hurt, there must be a fair amount of fluid in them because she's lost about 50% of her hearing. I'm told it's normal, and that I shouldn't worry. I'm not exactly worried because I have no reason to believe that it's anything other than fluid in her ears. She never had a fever; she's not talking louder than she usually does; she admits that her ears feel "full." Nevertheless, we have a doctor's appointment set up. 

If I'm standing behind her, using my "inside voice," she can't hear me. If she calls to me from the other side of the house, I have to go to her because she can't hear me answer back.

She can't hear the audiobooks in the car. She can't hear the ticking of the clock. She almost always doesn't hear me the first time I say something.

She turns up the volume on the tv so loudly that Jules complains. "Too loud!" Jules yells. "What?" says Sydney. "TOO LOUD!" repeats Jules.

I'm trying to be patient, but it's frustrating. No doubt it's frustrating to Sydney too. If she sees my lips moving, she walks closer, squinting hard in concentration. If I'm sitting next to her, she'll lean her ear right into my mouth. I could resolve some of the issues by talking louder the first time, but believe it or not, maintaining loud conversations all the time is kind of exhausting. Add into that my uncertainty of when Sydney is ignoring me--which she does sometimes--and when she's honestly not hearing me, and it makes for long days.

So it's been a weary week...hearing "what?" after everything, repeating almost everything, yelling instructions in a volume that I normally reserve for matters of urgency. Just like listening to quiet music and talking in soothing tones helps you feel peaceful, doing the reverse makes you feel anxious. I realized tonight that it's created in me a kind of fake irritation. I'm not really angry, but my brain translates all the above volume talking into tension.

Fortunately, Sydney doesn't really mind the extra quiet that has crept into her world. She plays fine on her own, chattering happily to herself. But it's hard for me. Not just the talking louder, but the silence from being selective about what I say to her.

"We're going to be late," I told her one afternoon as we were headed out the door.

"It's eight?" she asked.

"We're late," I repeated a little louder.

"What?" she asks again.

I wave my hand, and shake my head. We give up that conversation. We've given up a lot of conversations.

The extra noise is certainly an irritation, but it's the silence between Sydney and me that makes all of this the hardest of all.

A little swine for Oregon

Well, it was bound to happen eventually.

The swine flu is in Oregon.

In fact, out of an abundance of caution, Western Oregon University--where I did my graduate work and where former world's best nanny Rebekah attends--closed its campus today and will remain closed through Monday because a student might have swine flu.

I am both alternately annoyed and fascinated by the media's coverage. On the one hand, the media is all about freaking people out. It's no wonder that foreign countries aren't importing North American pork--even though you can't catch the swine flu from eating pork--the media circus is ridiculous. I won't even watch the news tonight because it'll be all about swine flu, and all about panic. And since the spring flu is usually just nature's "test-run" for the winter flu, then we might be hearing about the swine flu for a long time. Fabulous.

However, as I've mentioned a few times before, I love reading about immunology and diseases. I don't know what it is about pandemics and epidemics and plagues that I find so thrilling (especially considering I am embarrassingly ignorant about general science topics), but with the new outbreak I've been keeping my eyes open for non-dramatized articles about the swine flu. Reading about Outbreaks vs. Epidemics? Yes, please. Reading about the swine flu as bioterrorism? Sure. Today I saw that Slate provided me with a whole page full of swiney links. Oh mercy.

Now, being a non-science person, I can't just pick up the latest science journal and be enthralled. I need my diseases wrapped in mystery and intrigue, and cushioned by a well-worded narrative. You do that, and you've got me hooked.

If by some chance you also enjoy an excellently written germ story, well, here are five suggestions. (If you aren't interested, at the very least, check out the last book on this list.)

• Flu: The Story of the Great Influenza Pandemic, by Gina Kolata. This was the book that got me hooked on diseases. The flu pandemic of 1918 killed tens of millions of people, but scientists are still uncertain what made that strain so deadly. The mystery of it? Most of the 1918 flu's victims were young and middle-aged adults. A few parts of the book get a little weighty, but skimming is fine enough, and being aware of how the flu of 1918 is shaping today's flu theories makes this a compelling read.
• The American Plague: The Untold Story of Yellow Fever, the Epidemic that Shaped Our History, by Molly Caldwell Crosby. Did you know that the CDC is alerted if just one case of yellow fever is detected? I found The American Plague quite gripping, and patted myself on the back for recognizing her references to Kolata's flu book. Crosby's medical mystery is disjointed in some parts, but finely recounts the heroics of those who eventually solved the causes for yellow fever. You'll never look at a mosquito the same again.
• 28: Stories of AIDS in Africa, by Stephanie Nolan. I randomly stumbled upon a blogger's recommendation for this book, and checked it out from the library on a whim. I'm so glad I did. For each of the 28 chapters (representative of the 28 million HIV-infected people in Africa), Nolan focuses on one individual HIV related case: an orphan, a scholar, a prostitute immune to AIDS. The individual stories are heartbreaking, staggering, and informative. I've recommended this book to more than a dozen people (although no one I know has ever taken me up on my recommendation...reading about AIDS is no walk in the park).
• Vaccinated: One Man's Quest to Defeat the World's Deadliest Diseases, by Paul Offit. The dominant narrative of the book is the history of Maurice Hilleman and vaccinations, but naturally in order to understand vaccinations you have to understand diseases. I reviewed the book a couple years ago, and it still stands out in my mind as a compelling read, not only for its history of diseases but also for its strong case favoring vaccines.
• Better: A Surgeon's Notes on Performance, by Atul Gawande. Now I know I've mentioned this book before, and perhaps you've shrugged off my recommendation. But seriously. SERIOUSLY. You need to read this book. It's. so. good. For what it's worth, it's got a 4 1/2 star rating on Amazon. It's a quick read, each chapter stands alone, it's well written and even funny, and it gives you a look into the medical community that will change the way you think. Buy it. Check it out from the library. Spend an afternoon at the bookstore. Whatever you have to do, read it. And when you do, let me know so I can stop harassing you to read it.

So, there's my germ-infested list. All this swine flu talk got me interested in reading about pandemics again, so I'm starting on The Coming Plague: Newly Emerging Diseases in a World Out of Balance next week, hoping it won't be too dated (it was written in 1995). I'd love to hear any suggestions you might have, assuming I'm not the only one who has a morbid fascination with books like these. Anyone? Hello? Bueller?

Most importantly though, I'm hoping you all stay safe and healthy from this nasty flu. As for me, I'll be happy to read the book about it in a couple years, and just like all my disease infested reads, I'd rather not have personal experience with the topic.

Week 244: Eyes, Lungs and Buns

All right. After today, we're not talking about feeling sick, or coughing, or runny noses, or any of that. Once March comes, then it'll be all rainbows and smiles. Unless, you know, something else comes along. But really, raise your hand if you're sick? Or just getting over being sick? Or praying that you don't get sick? Or hoping that by reading about this I'm not transferring germs onto you? That probably covers everybody, and we're all tired of hearing about being sick. But before we get too tired, I need to purge all the stories out of me, and then...done.

~eyes~

• Yesterday, Sydney had an eye appointment. She had been dreading it because she knew she was going to have her eyes dilated. I wouldn't say she was angelic at the appointment, but she made it through.
• Despite what I would not call a great performance on her eye exam (it broke my heart to see her struggling to see the shapes), her vision is evidently better than it was a year ago. We'll go with "improvement is good."
• New vision numbers means new glasses. Woo hoo! And woo hoo for vision insurance.
• Hopefully new glasses will cheer Sydney up; she's most likely contracted my bronchitis. Poor dear. Between Jules' fevers and Sydney's coughing, we've gone through half a bottle of children's Tylenol this week.

~lungs~

• That medicine that I got to help me get over bronchitis is fabulous. Especially the nighttime cough medicine. Evidently it's a narcotic (or has narcotics in it, or however you even use that word), so it better be good. And boy, is it ever. I wake up feeling terrific.
• Hopefully tomorrow the girls can get their own prescriptions for helping them feel fabulous too.

~buns~

• One bright spot regarding Julianne's health: for months, Jules was getting red welts all over her lower stomach and the back of her legs. They looked like bug bites, but we knew they weren't. Turns out she is allergic to diapers--or at least, allergic to regular diapers. I don't know why I didn't figure it out sooner. I can't even use regular detergent for our laundry (oh yeah, All Free and Clear for us).
• We switched her to Seventh-Generation Diapers, and within two days all the sores were gone. Amazing.
• Jules is in love with her new diapers. She should be...they're twice the price of regular diapers.
• Totally worth it.

~one extra~

• My dear husband took yesterday off from work so I could have some extra rest. He's taking tomorrow off too. Isn't he sweet?

The Acceptance Speech

In the category for Best Mystery Illness in Stephanie's Lungs, the nominees are:

• Pneumonia
• Walking Pneumonia
• Bronchitis
• Asthma
• Common Cold

And the winner is...

Week 242: Cacophony

*cough, ahem, cough*

Today's featured music: A Tune of Winter Illness.

The conductor steps up to the platform, his Zicam swab at the ready.

Jules raises her sleepy head in anticipation before she bursts forth with her throaty cough, crescendos into a fever of 101. Sydney chimes in--quietly at first--with a sniff, then a sneeze, and then an erupting chorus of mynosehurts, passthekleenex, mylegshurt. The hum of the humidifier fills the moment of silence. The conductor motions to me, and I boom in with coughs that threaten to knock me over, the percussion taking a cue from the sound of my head throbbing.

Cough Cough!

Boom Pang!

Sneeze Sniff!

A cough drop wrapper hits the floor, a gurgle of cough medicine echos throughout the hall. A slow wheeze.

(pause)

By all means, applaud after the first movement.

I'm hoping the second movement is the sound of sleeping through the night.

And I bet cleaning the house doesn't help your memory...

Look at that. Someone did a study that shows taking naps is good for you.

Well, okay. If I must.

Continuing the Debate on Vaccines

Up until the past couple years, I rarely read non-fiction. It wasn't that I didn't like it, it was just not on my reading radar. But in the last year, my reading list has had a lot of medical non-fiction that I highly recommend: 28 Stories of AIDS in Africa, The American Plague, Better, and as of this past weekend, Autism's False Prophets: Bad Science, Risky Medicine, and the Search for a Cure by Dr. Paul A. Offit. I admit, I'm hooked on medical science books even though I have no desire whatsoever to be directly involved in the medical field.

Last year, I read (and reviewed) Dr. Offit's book on vaccines, and so I was quite interested in reading his follow-up book. I've already given my opinion about vaccines, so I won't rehash that here. However, the book isn't so much a parade for vaccines as it a defense of them. It largely grapples with the question: do vaccines cause autism?

It's a big question, an important question, one which parents all over the world are struggling with. The media is quick to publish studies that demonstrate the dangers of vaccines; politicians like John Kerry, Dave Weldon, Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., and Joe Lieberman have condemned vaccines; even Oprah has jumped on the vaccines-cause-autism bandwagon. Who are parents to believe?

Offit traces of the history of the vaccine debate, beginning with the first study that linked MMR vaccines with autism.

• When it was proved without a doubt that MMR vaccines did notcause autism, mercury (thimerosal) was blamed for autism.
• When thimerosal was removed from vaccines, the rates of autism actually increased, rather than decreased. Evidently, thimerosal was not be blamed.
• After decades of research, no link has been found that ties vaccines with autism.

While Offit is clearly on the side of "vaccines do not cause autism," his book looks at the research that was given to the contrary. He spends pages highlighting the opposing research, even devoting whole chapters ("Lighting the Fuse," "Mercury Rising" ) to the story that vaccines cause autism. Each time, however, Offit provides damning evidence to the contrary. No respected medical establishment believes that vaccines cause autism.

Among many circles, that answer is not a popular opinion. Some go so far as to accuse these establishments of a mass-conspiracy, and that the government is simply unwilling to pull vaccines from the market because of the pharmaceutical company's lobbying. Offit admits that vaccines aren't perfect, but the FDA and CDC have been quick to act when an immunization poses a threat.

For example: "In 1998, the FDA licensed a rotavirus vaccines, and the CDC recommend it for all infants.... Studies showed rotavirus vaccines caused intussusception in about one of every 10,000 babies who got it....Within months of the vaccine's release, the CDC had discovered the problem and withdrew its recommendation--a testament to CDC diligence and post-licensure surveillance." If there was any link at all between vaccines and autism, the CDC would have caught it by now and would have acted accordingly.

More than just providing research, Offit provides the drama that surrounds vaccines. The court cases, the conspiracy theories, the death threats, the high profile individuals, the risky treatments for autistic children--all are part of the controversy. And unfortunately, an entire cottage industry of litigation lawyers, advocacy groups, and unethical doctors have taken advantage of parents who are looking for a cause for autism.

Even more unfortunate is that this industry sees autistic children as poisoned and damaged. From Kathleen Seidel, founder of Neurodiversity.com (an autism resource web site): "I get really angry at those who work parents up into a nasty emotional state. I just think it's destructive to be led down this path of endless recriminations that goes with being encouraged to think that kids are autistic because they're damaged."

In an age when we are all trying to do the best for our children, when we aren't entirely sure who to believe, I found the book and all the statistical evidence that it provides as a great reassurance that vaccines do not cause autism. Furthermore, rather than spending money and resources fighting against vaccines, we should be focusing on what does cause autism and how we can support those who are affected by it.

And as a perfect stroke of good timing, yesterday one of my students showed this heartwarming video about Jason McElwain, an autistic student.

Paul Offit will donate all royalties from sales of this book to autism research.  Parent Bloggers Network provided me with my copy of this book.

Pause for Migraine

I know I've said it before, but I'll say it again: I love summer. I love the sunshine, the warm weather, tshirts and shorts and flip flops. We spent the last two weeks at the Family Farm, and I could wax on and on about the many adventures we had outside, but all those thoughts are still trapped in my head.

Because, you see, the downside to warm weather is that right around 6 pm or so, I start to feel that familiar ache right behind my left eye. I dutifully take some Excedrin (as I have to do every day, much to the dismay of my kidneys, I'm sure), hoping that one tablet will take care of it. Pshaw, says the area right behind my left eye, ONE Excedrin? Really. You know better than that.

I am, to a fault, hopelessly optimistic that every headache I have is actually a headache rather than a migraine. The last time I had a regular headache that went away on it's own? Hmm. Maybe when I was 14?

The awful truth is that I don't get headaches. Ever. I get migraines. They don't go away on their own. I can't sleep them off. I can't exercise them away. I can only hope to catch them before the nausea and vomiting start. Last semester I had to cancel my afternoon class twice because I couldn't stand up, which is why I now almost always carry a bottle of Excedrin with me everywhere I go. (There is no point bothering with candy medication like Advil or Tylenol.)

Unfortunately for me, in the summer I get migraines almost every day, presumably because of the heat and maybe dehydration. Except--and here's the real kicker--when I'm pregnant. Then I never get migraines. You'd think this might motivate me to get pregnant more often, except that the results of pregnancy mean more migraines for me (yes, parenting is hard on my poor, weak brain), so it would really be such a vicious circle that would only end up with me in a dark room, with a cool washcloth on my face, wishing that the birds outside would shut up already. It's hard to parent that way. Trust me, I've tried.

So, right now, as I'm typing with my eyes closed only to occasionally open them, squinting at the computer screen and really wanting to write about Sydney's very first professional manicure, and how she wakes up every day and breathlessly exclaims, "Oh, Mama! My nails are still so, so beautiful" I can't quite form all those thoughts in my head due to the halos of light around everything and feeling more consciously aware of the pain traveling oh so slowly towards the back of my head and a bit toward the right. And more than manicures, my thoughts are focused along the lines of should I take two extra-strength Excedrin, or should I just bypass the next three hours of minor league pain and go straight for the Excedrin for Migraines even though it means in about 4 hours I'll wake up from the high dosage of caffeine which will keep me awake for about two hours?

I am thankful that my migraines can be controlled by over the counter medication, but I do find it tedious that every single night when what I'd love to be writing or reading, but instead I'm rubbing peppermint oil on my temples, massaging my eyebrows, drinking water, and checking the clock to see if enough time has elapsed for me to take another Excedrin. You'd think with all this pain I'd stop loving summer, but I don't. It's still my favorite time of the year.

And I'll always hold out hope that maybe tomorrow--another blistering hot day--I won't get a migraine, even though the odds are against me. Okay, the pain has moved to my right eye, so off I go. 

Stamps, Tiny Reads, TVs, and Energetic Cranberries

A few random items...

: stamps :

Postage stamps are going up in price on Monday, so you should do as I did and stock up on those terribly un-pretty Forever Stamps (seriously. would it kill them to put a flower on the Forever Stamps? the Liberty Bell is so not great). If you get them now, they're *only* 41 cents a piece. Starting Monday, they'll cost you 42 cents. Consider this your friendly PSA reminder.

: tiny reads :

I've added a new link feature to my left sidebar. Under the Tiny Reads heading, I've "shared" different blog posts from my Google Reader that have caught my attention, for one reason or another. I'll be updating it daily.

: tv :

We are now the proud owners of two TV converter boxes. In case you haven't heard, if you are one of the few dozen people who doesn't have cable and instead uses an antenna/rabbit ears to get your tv signal, then you'll have to get a converter box so that you can still get free tv after the signal changes to digital next February. We received converter coupons in the mail a few weeks ago--thanks to a reminder from Sophie (who, sadly, is no longer posting)--and each coupon is worth $40 off a converter box. Walmart sells the boxes for $49.95, but the south Commercial store was out when I checked last week. Fred Meyer sells the boxes for $49.98, and so I got ours there. Twenty dollars for the privilege of free tv. Yippee.

As it turns out, we may not even need the converter boxes if we sell our house before next February. Our new house will probably have to have cable, although I am totally willing to have an antenna on our house if it means we'll get free tv.

: cranberries :

And finally, here's a review for a drink I've been trying out this week...

Last week I got a sample of Ocean Spray's Cranergy juice in the mail, courtesy of Mom Central. Being someone who loves cranberry juice, I quickly drank the whole thing. It tastes a lot like...hmm...cranberry juice! With a healthy, green tea kick. Then I went to Winco and got some more. Then I went to Fred Meyer, saw they were having a sale on jugs instead of the more expensive personal-sized, and got even more. This could be trouble.

Even though I am perpetually tired all the time, I stay away from those energy drinks because I'm deathly afraid of them. I am certain I would drink one and drop dead from a heart attack within minutes. As someone who has no caffeine addiction at all, consuming that much caffeine in one sitting would totally screw me up. However, I am acutely aware that some amount of caffeine--preferrably something natural from a tea source--might actually help me feel better. Or at least, feel capable of folding laundry. So, after reading the label for the Cranergy juice, it evidently gets its caffeine naturally from green tea. And it has a whole host of B vitamins, which I think are supposed to give you energy.

Since it's juice-ish (23% juice isn't exactly Juicy Juice), since it has vitamins, and since green tea extract is a natural source of caffeine, then I've been drinking it every day with breakfast. It does have Splenda, although the juice doesn't taste crazy-sweet like some things do that have been sweetened with Splenda. Even Jason, who hates cranberry juice, has said it's not too bad (especially the cranberry-raspberry version), although if he starts drinking it then that means less for me, so...I don't know how I feel about that.

The thing is, I actually feel more energized after drinking it, but maybe it's just a pyschological trick I'm playing on myself. I feel like it should energized me, so then it does. But trick or not, I'm all for it. Probably someone who depends on energy drinks and/or multiple cups of coffee wouldn't notice a difference. Nevertheless, for me it's definitely better than drinking soda, it has cranberries in it, and even though I wouldn't let my girls drink it (no caffeine for them,natural or not, thank you. they have plenty of energy), I'm all for something that helps me stay just a little more focused on something other than dreaming of a nap.

Jason thinks I should exercise more often, but for as much as I do like to exercise, so often I'm too tired to even think about doing it. Anybody have any other suggestions for fighting fatigue? B vitamins? Multi-vitamins? Iron supplements? Less sugar? More sugar?

Please say "eat five dozen marshmallows" because I could totally do that.

(c) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

To See the Game

I still have the rest of the story to tell about the girls and their nighttime miseries (or rather, maybe it's my nighttime miseries? and they're not that miserable? either way...), but when I sat down to write about it I got all grumpy and fussy and decided I didn't want to write about it right then.

So.

It'll wait.

Until then--and maybe the girls will miraculously fix their sleeping issues while I avoid writing about it--I'm writing about something else.

Did I mention that Sydney got bifocals? The ones that I had been thinking maybe she didn't need? The ones that cost $200 because we already got her a new pair last summer and so our vision insurance (which I am thankful we have in the first place) didn't cover a new pair?

Ah, well, she did. In fact, you've already seen her with them.

If you look closely, you can see the bifocal line on the lens. And actually, these are the first pair she got. The pair that were supposed to be purple, but whoever decided to label these glasses "purple" clearly wasn't familiar with a toddler's perception of purple. These weren't purple; they were indigo. And indigo to a 3 year-old looks like black. So she hated them and refused to wear them, and is only wearing them in this picture because I bribed her with candy.

Then we took them back and got red ones. Which Syd still isn't fond of, but only because they're bifocals and make the world all funky looking.

"There are steps all over! I walk to the step, but it moves!" and she stumbles around for a few minutes until she gets her bearings and then forgets she has them on until she sees her other non-bifocal pair and demands to wear those instead.

We've set up a deal with Syd about wearing her bifocals: she has to wear them when she's reading, and she has to wear them when we're playing games. I wish she'd wear them when we're eating (because that's a close-range activity so her left eye crosses inward), but no deal.

The upside is that she's at least wearing them sometimes; the downside is that I have no excuse to not play games with her.

We play Memory with her Dora cards, and I regularly lose because I have about five million things I have to remember, let alone remember where the card is with Dora wearing a backpack.

We play some other nifty games that she received as gifts.

And lately, we've been playing Rapelli, from the Discovery Store.

All the parts are constructed with bamboo, so it's eco-friendly. (Bamboo is cool! Jason and I were even thinking of getting bamboo flooring in the new house except I don't think it comes in wide planks, which we want.) It's constructed well enough that if Jules happens to grab a piece we don't have to worry about her breaking it (although, the parts are small enough that little babies shouldn't be playing with it). When Parent Bloggers Network was looking for reviewers, I immediately thought of Sydney and working with her close-vision skills. This seemed like a great game to have her practice getting small parts into small holes, and it seemed engaging enough that she would consider it worth playing even if she had to wear her bifocals.

Well, folks. We have a winner.

Sydney plays this game almost every day, and she'll even play around with it even when we're not playing the game with her. The object of the game is to pull the little bamboo caterpillars out of the "tree." You go about doing that by rolling the dice and seeing how many links you can pull the caterpillar out (or, conversely, have to push the caterpillar back in, an aspect of the game we don't follow). The official rules are a bit vague on some of the details of playing the game, but that didn't bother us since we just make up our own rules to fit what we're doing and Sydney's age. For instance, I think maybe you're supposed to collect a certain color to win? And perhaps can use strategy to keep others from getting their caterpillars out? Obviously, though, we're not working on strategy. We're just trying to get as many of those little caterpillars out as we can.

Playing it the way we do, there is no strategy at all involved. It's all just random luck based on the dice. But that's okay because then when Sydney wins we don't have to feel badly that we were just crushed in a caterpillar game by a 3-year-old.

It's also a great game to help Sydney work on vision exercises. She has to look at small parts, manipulate smallish pieces, and coordinate all those things together. She never feels like it's a chore to play the game (and since the game only take about 15-minutes to play, it doesn't feel like a chore to us either), and right now that's key to getting her transitioned into wearing her bifocals more often.

And really, even though I rarely enjoy playing dice games (is it me, or do dice games take forever to play?!), I think this one is a great fit for Sydney and what we're working on, and that makes it worth it for me.

The game is available at the Discovery Store for $29.95, and considering the excellent construction of the game, the environmental friendliness of the parts, and the overall engaging aspects for kids, I'd say that's a reasonable price. More reviews of this game can be found here.

(c) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

Saving the Littlest Bums

Alrighty now, I still want to give away these two jars of Diaper Goop.

So...let's try this again, shall we?

Leave a comment indicating you're interested in trying out Diaper Goop, and I'll choose two random winners on Wednesday, April 9th. In the contest already are the previous comments from Margaret, Amy, Rachel, and Jen so you four are already entered.

The following post (linked below) is from Thursday, which I had removed because of all the negative energy it was bringing to my blog and also my computer. I have clarified some particular elements of the previous posting because clearly the way I wrote it before was giving people--people who don't actually know me or my blog, but people nonetheless--the wrong impression of life in the Creature Bug household. I will chalk up the whole experience of...whatever that was...as a small bump on the road of an otherwise wonderful blogging journey.

*****

Week 195: In the blink of an eye

Every six months, Sydney and I take a drive up to Portland to see our dear ophthalmologist Dr. Landon for an eye appointment. That first appointment was kind of traumatic for us, just in learning that Sydney needed glasses, that she was far-sighted, that her eye crossing inward wasn't a temporary phase. Since then, however, Sydney wearing glasses has become pretty normal for us. Each time we have an appointment, we go in with fewer fears and worries. Sydney wears glasses. No big deal.

Although for as much as it's "no big deal," it has certainly had no small effect on her personality. We're pretty sure that she was born with poor vision, which explains a lot of the kinds of personality quirks she had as a baby. She always cried if we were very far away from her...probably because she couldn't see us. She never wandered away from us in public places...probably because she didn't know where to go. She rarely smiled at strangers...probably because she couldn't recognize the expressions on their face. I'm sure plenty of kids are like this--even with perfectly good vision--but it makes sense why she was like this, considering.

Although she is a typical kid at home--silly, energetic, smiling, ready to laugh at anything--out in public she can be very shy, reserved, even sullen at times. I'm guessing those first twenty months of not being able to see very well are responsible for this. I used to worry about this because sullenness is, well, not endearing. She's gotten better though, through a lot of role playing and coaching at home.

"What do you say if someone says you have pretty hair?" (the comment she receives the most)

"Thank you."

"And why do you say thank you?"

"Because it's polite." Yes, indeed, good manners matter.

Even at random intervals during the day I'll say, "What pretty hair you have, little girl." To which she smiles and says, "Thank you, Momma." Nevermind that we might be creating pint-sized vanity; she has to learn to be polite.

On the upside, having glasses has given her opportunities to develop positive character traits. She's learned responsibility through taking care of her glasses. She's learned to be careful, knowing not to put her glasses away with the lenses down, or to call for help if someone (including her sister) grabs for her glasses (which resulted in the only time I have publicly scolded a kid in Spanish for taking Sydney's glasses). She's very detailed oriented with a keen eye for puzzles, a trait she's learned from having to memorize where things are when she doesn't have her glasses on to see.

I have to keep all these positive things in mind as I process the newest development in Sydney's vision. Last Sunday, I had planned to write about how we've adjusted so well since the initial diagnosis. I remember reading through the first post and thinking, "Wow. We don't even worry anymore about Sydney's eyes." I recalled with understanding Gretchen's comment about how glasses are just part of who her son is. I didn't think I'd ever get to that point, but I did. I am. Sydney wear glasses, and for the most part the only thing we worry about is Jules breaking them (again) or when we'll be able to teach Sydney to clean her glasses without our aid.

Then I heard Dr. Landon say, "Since her eyes are still crossing, then I think she should wear bifocals." She went on to explain how this would work, and I nodded and kept my face free from emotion. "Of course," I said when she was done. "We'll get the prescription filled this week." I haven't filled it yet.

Truthfully, I'm doubting myself a little, knowing that Dr. Landon made the prescription based on my comment that Sydney's eyes still cross when she's looking at something up close. It's a true observation, but maybe I've overreacted.

I don't know why I'm feeling the way I am. In a matter of seconds, I went from patting myself on the back for my fabulous adjustment, to wishing that Jason was there to hold my hand on the drive back from Portland. Jess's comment last week helped me realize that bifocals aren't the end of the world; Sarah's comment has me considering getting a second opinion, which I had been thinking about anyway. Both comments helped me take a deep breath and clear my head a little.

So, here, a week later, I'm feeling a little less bravado. And here, a week later, I'm feeling a little less worried.

Welcome to this marvelous world we call parenting.

*****

(c) 2008 Creature Bug. All rights reserved.

Week 194: Busy not blogging

I have undertaken the monumental task of putting our pictures in photo albums. This has been a resolution of mine for, oh, the last four years. I have albums completed up until Sydney was born, or rather just before she was born. Just now I'm getting around to dealing with the folders and folders of photos that I have saved on my hard drive (and an external for back-up). It's quite handy that my pictures are so marvelously organized by month as it makes this whole project much easier.

I have to say that I'm really getting a great deal of satisfaction out of choosing pictures and then designing the layout for the page. It brings back grand and glorious memories of the days I used to teach yearbook. My mind is a running monologue of words like white space, eye lines, and thematic design elements. I have dedicated a certain number of pages to each month, and the page that introduces the next month is a consistent design throughout the album. Instead of using traditional albums, I've decided just to go the route of using My Publisher. Yes, it's more expensive than just printing the pictures at Costco and putting them in an album. No, I don't care. I can swing $35 for a 100-page album. (Note to my dad: you should totally be doing this! REALLY. It's a matter of family urgency that you get the photos in order since we'll never be able to figure out your organizational system to do it ourselves.)

(Here's a spread from the Christmas pages, and yes, I broke the eyeline on this spread and have come to terms with it. Turns out it's very tricky to keep eyelines in My Publisher. No big deal.)

The plan is to do two albums per year, one for the first six months and one for the last six months. The plan was also to complete a month a day (beginning with last July and then working forward), and I started this whole photo project last Friday. Tomorrow I finish book one. Right on schedule.

 

Unfortunately, I've gone from "I'll get around to organizing the photos sometime," to "I'm organizing the photos now! At this moment! Get out of the way!" That's good for keeping momentum going, not so good when I should have mailed out Valentine's cards last Saturday and will instead be mailing them out tomorrow. I feel awful about my tardy cards, but nothing I can do about it now. Except do better next year.

*****

I gave up daytime blogging and websurfing for Lent (which is to say, no Internet stuff except email while the girls are awake). I don't miss the websurfing. It was time for a change because over the last few months I  found myself just migrating towards the computer to check on this, check on that, and before I knew it, an hour later I'm reading the court transcripts from Britney's child-custody case while my girls pull on my arms begging me to come play with them. Bleh.

So, after some soul searching, it seemed like I needed to back off a little. I just didn't need to be on the web that much. I didn't. I don't. I get frazzled that I've wasted my time, frustrated that things that should get done aren't getting done, and impatient with my sweet little girls who need me way more than anyone needs my comment on their latest post. Hard to believe, but it's true.

It's oddly freeing, keeping away from reading news on the Internet. However, it's been a lot harder to keep away from blogging, whether reading, writing, or commenting. It had become so much a part of my daily life that stepping away--even if just for a few hours--was really hard. It was a habit that needed to change though. My advance apologies if you post some critical news and I'm not johnny-on-the-spot to comment. I think about you though. Honestly.

And speaking of Lent, if you're looking for a book that doesn't dwell too much on the denominational aspect of Lent and instead focuses on the spiritual journey, I am thoroughly enjoing the book I'm using as a daily devotional, Small Surrenders. Very thought provoking. Highly recommend it.

*****

Sydney had a dentist appointment today, and I've figured out the way to make her look forward to that is to schedule an eye appointment the day before. As she said today, "Dentists are fun. Eye doctors are not fun. That new toothbrush is very funny!"

The dentist appointment went splendidly. The eye appointment still has me blinking slowly, warming up to the idea that Sydney needs bifocals. Already her prescription is +6.00 in her right eye and +6.5 in her left eye; the bifocals add another +3 to the bottom half of her glasses. I didn't think it would bother me that her eyesight is unchanged and in some cases worse, but it does. I started to write about it last night, but it was too emotional for me. I'm not as brave as Sydney is.

*****

I baked eight dozen cookies to take to my students today as an early Valentine's gift. Even though I have class on Thursday--which would be a more appropriate time to give them cookies--several of the students will be gone on account of baseball and softball games. I thought they deserved cookies too, so I stayed up until 11 o'clock last night finishing off the last batch.

I'm pretty sure the only thing they'll remember about today's class is that they got cookies.

I'm okay with that.

*****

I'm so glad you all approve of Trader Joe's. Which isn't to say that I'm searching for approval, except that sometimes I am. Also, I should note that Corvallis DOESN'T have a Trader Joes (thanks, Jen, for pointing that out). Eugene has one. Now I know what I'll be doing while Jason is running the Eugene Marathon in May.

(c) 2008 Creature Bug. All rights reserved.

A Cleaner Alternative

If you are a parent of young children, you probably received that email that circulated several months ago about Purell hand sanitizer. Turns out, while the alcohol in hand sanitizers kill germs, it also poses a serious threat to young children who can get alcohol poisoning if they put their hands in their mouth after using Purell or another like-formulated hand sanitizer.

After the Purell warning, I put the Purell out of reach of my kids (even though at the time Sydney was old enough to know not to put her hands in her mouth, and Jules was too young to reach the Purell), and eventually got rid of the Purell altogether. I had seen an alcohol-free hand sanitizer reviewed on PBN, but it wasn't available in stores and I wasn't up to buying it online. Every time I went to the doctor's office, I searched the pharmacy for an alcohol-free, all-natural hand sanitizer, but to no avail. I couldn't find it anywhere.

With germ season upon us (as I hear both girls coughing in their rooms), I was determined to find a better all-natural product that I could use to clean the girls' hands. Fortunately for me, I didn't have to search very hard because I got lucky enough to review CleanWell, the product that Parent Bloggers Network bloggers reviewed earlier for hand-sanitizer, only now there's a new product: foaming antibacterial hand soap.

While there has been some concern over the chemicals used in antibacterial hand soap--namely, whether they are really safe, and whether or not they promote resistant strains of bacteria--CleanWell's foaming hand wash is the first all-natural Triclosan-free hand soap to kill nearly all those pesky germs. Of course, because it is "foaming" hand wash, then it includes sodium lauryl sulfate which is an irritant for sensitive skin, especially skin prone to eczema (information I learned thanks to nanny Rebekah who was a fountain of information concerning harmful products!).

But the reason for sodium lauryl sulfate is that it helps deliver suds to the skin, helping to clean it faster, which is good since most people (especially kids) don't wash their hands for the recommended round of singing your ABCs. To combat skin from drying out from the sodium lauryl sulfate, CleanWell includes skin conditioners like aloe and white tea. My skin still felt pretty dry after using the soap, but that's probably because between changing diapers and feeding kids I'm washing my hands all the time. Most importantly, however, CleanWell's product is triclosan-free, a chemical commonly found in deodorants and other soaps and appears to be a very unfriendly chemical.

I got to try out all three of CleanWell's foaming hand soaps: orange vanilla, ginger bergamot, lavender absolute. While fragrances are often a no-no when it comes to being all-natural (especially since the FDA doesn't require companies to list what chemicals they use in fragrances), CleanWell goes above and beyond by not only listing their fragrance oils, but using natural ones.

The bottles come with removable labels, which I was initially skeptical about thinking that once you removed the labels then you wouldn't be able to consult the drug facts list. But clever CleanWell: I pulled the labels off and there was still a small box that included the soap's ingredients. Quite handy.

My favorite scent was the orange vanilla, which happens to be the only scent that our local Target currently carries. I was over at the Center Street Target yesterday, and was curious to see what the soap is priced at. I found it (aisle A35), and the foaming hand soap is $4.49, and the hand-sanitizer (which I'm thrilled to be using now as a safer alternative to Purell) was $6.99 for a 6 oz. bottle.

It's hard to know what's safe to use these day, and what isn't. Fortunately, CleanWell seems to be making good strides toward creating a product that is healthier for me and my kids. I think the fewer chemicals that are in our daily products, the better. It follows along with one of my words of the year--gentleness. Looks like I've found a soap that's gentle for us, and gentle for the environment.

PS: If you're interested in researching more of what ingredients your soaps and makeup contain, consider checking out Skin Deep Cosmetic Safety Database. According to Skin Deep, CleanWell has signed the Compact for Safe Cosmetics. Cool.

One flu over the cuckoo's nest

It was bad enough that Jason had the flu.

But then Sydney got it.

And then Jules got it last night. Boy did she ever get. She got it all over me, many times. Even though I had my mind determined not to get the flu, even though I mentally said, "No flu! I'm stronger than this bug! My tummy is no place for a little bug. Go away! GO AWAY!" and then I drank some hot water and ate some carrots just to prove that I was healthy...I still got the flu. Maybe it was cleaning up all those germs (I washed my hands a million times, but I think it must have been airborne). Maybe I shouldn't have eaten those chocolate chips for lunch. That was probably the invitation that the flu bug was waiting for (because who can pass up chocolate?). Plus, I neglected to get a flu shot this year, even though I have been getting it for the past several years and it has kept me healthy. No reason for me not getting the flu shot, just didn't go in and have it done. I am a hearty believer in them despite the perilous warnings by some who say something along the lines that it's just a governmental scheme to insert tracking devices into our bloodstream and then when the time is right they'll allow the alien forces to invade.

Err...I guess maybe nobody says that. Except old reruns of X-Files.

So, yes, Jules and I are in recovery. Jason is mostly better. And Sydney's bout with the flu was only for a few hours. Today she was healthy enough to take care of her poor mama. She got me Sprite. She turned the lights off, pulled the curtains, and put a soft blanket on my pillow. She said, "I'll just watch a movie, Mama. And I'll be quiet while Jules is sleeping." She was. Sure, she did end up having a BOZ marathon, watching almost five hours worth (the teacher in me cringes), but we were in survival mode. Plus, she totally deserved a veg-out day considering that she wasn't feeling 100% anyway. We do what we have to do to make it through.

We have to because there's just TOO MUCH to do this week. Tomorrow we're meeting with our general contractor and designer for the new house we're building (far far into the future). Friday is Jules' birthday. Saturday a party. Sunday...surely something...oh yes, I'll have to go Christmas shopping because of course I haven't even started that. Too busy to be kept down with the flu. I'll even eat carrots for breakfast tomorrow if I have to.

On the upside, I suppose I am officially a 'mom' now that I've had to clean up after flu-infested children. I had a streak of three-and-a-half very good years, but all good things must come to an end. And all bad things must come to an end too.

As sweet Julianne would say to the flu bug: Bye bye!

(video: 27 seconds)

Week 186: Lottofafluza

Before getting into the story of how firefighters ended up in my bedroom at 5:30am Saturday morning, I must be upfront that today is a product-review post. I say that so that you don't think I'm using my husband's illness in order to shill a product. While I occasionally agree to receiving free products and then further reviewing them on my blog, and while I may even encourage you to buy books through my Amazon links so that I can become rich and buy myself a pair of designer jeans (right!), when it comes down to it I'm just writing about my family, not trying to sell things. I just wanted to make that clear so you don't feel like I tricked you into reading this post.

But the story must be told, and the product must be reviewed, so they shall share the post space harmoniously together, like peanut butter and jelly. Except not exactly like peanut butter and jelly because Jason is allergic to peanuts and that would only further lead me to calling 9-1-1 again.

So, the firefighters. Me calling 9-1-1. The story unfolds thusly.

Friday afternoon was just a regular afternoon. Jason had gone for a nine-mile run, then had taken Jules out grocery shopping so that I could get some grading done (Sydney was staying the night with her grandparents). Later that night, Jason started complaining of not feeling well. He had major stomach pains, and was showing symptoms of having the flu (food poisoning is also a possible suspect). Although I had great pity for him in my heart, I have a hard time summoning my maternal instincts for anyone other than my girls (and other small children). I can fetch things, but I prefer to keep my distance because bodily fluids seriously gross me out. I did what I could, which was to provide fluids and medicine.

During the night, Jason continued to not feel well. I would periodically wake up, mumble, "Is there something I can get you?" and then promptly fall back asleep (kind of reminds me of the time I told Jason I was pregnant with Sydney, and he said, "Really?" and then fell back asleep, which he says is what happens when you wake someone up at 2am to share pregnancy news).

Sometime around 5am, I hear a loud crash in the bathroom, and rush in there to find Jason unconscious, the crashing sound having resulted from his head hitting the wall. Since he's only allowing me to share this story because it was so traumatic for me, I am leaving out most of the horrible and frightening details. However, I will say that when I first saw him I was terrified at the condition I found him in. After checking his pulse and realizing that he was still breathing, I grabbed the phone and dialed 9-1-1.

I know some people say that in moments of crisis they can't recall exactly what transpired, but I remember every little detail. I remember the sound of the woman's voice on the phone, the questions she asked, the first thing Jason said when he regained consciousness. I remember it all, and I was scared. After Jason realized that I had called for an ambulance, he was not exactly thrilled. He was now perfectly lucid, and even though he wasn't feeling great, he was not suffering any significant effects of what had just occurred.

Within a few minutes of my phone call, the firetruck arrived at our house. I was relieved they didn't have their sirens on because that might have woke Jules up. I was also relieved that there was now no imminent threat to Jason's health.

It was this sense of relief that can only explain why at this point I completely lost my senses. I saw those firefighters come marching down our driveway and could only think of one thing: they were wearing some heavy duty boots. Which were going to be walking on my clean carpets. As the men were about to enter the house, I squeaked out in my most embarrassed voice, "Oh dear. You're going to walk your boots all over my carpets aren't you?"

I realized that it sounded horribly insensitive, and what did I honestly expect? That they would take off their shoes before coming in the house? Fortunately, the nice firefighter did not laugh at me and said, "I'm pretty sure they aren't muddy." And then later--after they had checked Jason out and we had declined a trip to the hospital--he managed to tease me about what I had said. I'm sure I turned eight million shades of red before he said, "It's okay. My wife would have said the same thing." So, I'm not totally crazy. Just a little bit crazy.

Jason spent most of Saturday recovering, and by that evening he was able to keep some soup and jello down. By Sunday he was mostly recovered, and barring a relapse, he'll have no trouble teaching today and tomorrow before beginning his Christmas vacation. I'm thankful he's okay. I'm thankful for the firefighters who were here and did such a wonderful job. I'm thankful that Sydney wasn't here that night. And, I have to say it again, I'm thankful Jason is okay. I hope I never have to experience that again.

*****

Up until this weekend we had been pretty lucky to escape any significant sicknesses this year. Sure, there's been the occasional cold, and a few days Jason and I had a sore throat. Naturally, I have my migraines every once in awhile which I treat with Peppermint oil and Excedrin. The colds we pretty much suffered through, but the sore throats we were able to ward off with a dose of Simply Gargle, a salt-water gargle that tastes absolutely awful but makes your throat feel a million times better. I confess I'm not really a big fan of medicinal gargles, but Parent Bloggers Network hooked me up with Simply Gargle, and I had every sore-throated person I know try it. My parents loved it. Our nanny's sister loved it (although she said, "It tastes SO gross, but my throat feels better"). And Jason and I, while we despise the taste of it, now use it because its handy one-use capsules are easy to store, and it makes my throat feel like butter (in a good way). I even used it one day when my throat was just tired after a day of lecturing since Simply Gargle is not a medicine that I would have to ingest. I'm not against taking medicine, but if I can find one that will solve my aches without having to swallow it? Now, that's a good idea. Another good idea? Visit their website and sign up to receive a free sample of Simply Gargle. If you don't want your free sample just give it to me. I do enough talking to require a salt-water gargle weekly.

I know during this season of germs and sicknesses, I need to make sure my medicine cabinet is well stocked. I have to get something for the flu (fingers crossed we don't get it again), and I have to go get another box of Simply Gargle because we're out. I'm really hoping the next illness we get in our house is as mild as a sore throat because I don't think my nerves could take another dose of the flu.

Or the carpets either, for that matter.

You're a regular wreck, with a crick in your neck

My freshman year in high school, my drama teacher had all her students memorize several lines from Gilbert and Sullivan's Iolanthe. When I went on to become a drama teacher myself, I had all my students memorize the same lines. While memorization in and of itself is no big deal, the trick with this particular assignment is that it had to be said in one breath. There was very little room for forgetting the lines because then you'd end up passing out on stage, holding your breath until that elusive line popped back into your head. Well, if you were really dedicated to the lines you might pass out. Most of the time, people just take the extra breath and then carry on. Weaklings.

I don't teach drama anymore, and am not even involved in any theatrical projects at the moment. However, that didn't stop my brain from somehow bringing to mind the lines a few days ago.

You're a regular wreck,
with a crick in your neck,
and no wonder you snore
for your head's on the floor,
and you've needles and pins
from your soles to your shins,
and your flesh is a-creep,
for your left leg's asleep,
and you've a cramp in your nose,
and a fly on your nose,
and some fluff in your lung,
and a feverish tongue,
and a thirst that's intense,
and a general sense,
that you haven't been sleeping in clover.

I get out of breath just typing it out because the whole thing is so ingrained on my mind in one breath that I actually tried typing it in one breath. I finally took a breath because I started seeing blue lights. It's true. I can talk faster than I can type.

So why the heck am I telling you this?

Well, I found it rather ironic that just a few days after I recited these lines to Sydney (who was so not as impressed as she should have been), I, in fact, woke up Monday morning with a terrible crick in my neck. When I woke up, I discovered I couldn't turn my head to the left at all without searing pain coursing up and down my neck. It was so awful that it almost made me wish I was in labor again so that I could have such delicious drugs as they give to laboring women to make the pain go away. It was like I had somehow, in my dreams, been involved in a car accident that had left my neck aching. Even today, three days later, I still don't have full mobility in turning my head. I refuse to believe it has something to do with getting old. Not quite sure what it does have to do with, but something not age related.

(On a bizarre note, since I have to turn from the hips instead of the waist, it has made me think of that episode of Brady Bunch, where Carol hits some guy's car in the parking lot, and then he sues her for damages and takes her to court, and they figure out he's a fraud when they drop a stack of books off the table and the doofus turns his neck. Oh, those Brady's. They were so smart.)

Anyway, yes, I have a crick in my neck.

As for the "regular wreck," I'm going to give that title to Jason because he has had a terrible toothache all week. It has been paining him for a couple months now, but over the weekend it got worse. In fact, he was in so much pain on Sunday that I dug out my oxycodone pills that I received when I had my wisdom teeth pulled. I hadn't used too many of the pills, prompting the following conversation:

Jason: Oxycodone is highly addictive.
Me: I know. I hope you don't get addicted.
Jason: I won't. But people are. *pause* We could have sold these pills and made some money.
Me: Enough to cover the cost of us going to prison?
Jason: Oh, we have clean records. They'd just fine us.
Me: Clearly you've put some thought into this.

Good thing we're moral, law-abiding citizens who don't sell drugs (and of course do not want to perpetuate the drug problem that is wreaking havoc on Marion County), because then Jason wouldn't have had them to help alleviate the pain in his mouth. He also wouldn't have had the lovely experience of taking medication on an empty stomach Monday morning, making him so queasy that he ended up spewing his guts into a garbage can during his first period class. He was in the middle of teaching; he paused, said, "Just a second," walked back to his desk, and sat down.

Student: "Hey! Are you throwing up?"
Jason: "Yes. Hold on a minute."

If those 6th graders didn't already think he was the coolest teacher ever, they do now.

Jason ended up taking the rest of the day off (because it's hard to maintain control of your students if you're busy throwing up into a trash can), and he had to take yesterday off because his dentist appointment was in the middle of the day. The news is he has to have a root canal, which is a bummer, but at least we have great dental insurance, which somehow makes it seem just a little bit better.

When he headed back to school this morning, of course the news had traveled and he had achieved minor celebrity status. I don't know that he'll be nominated for any sort of Crystal Apple Award, but it certainly ranks right up there with progressive techniques to get your students to pay attention in class.

Between the wreck in Jason's mouth, and the crick in my neck, we're making for some mighty fine parents. Mighty fine.

Baby Steps

Eight steps. From one end of the kitchen to the other, that's how far Julianne walked last night.

Walked.

For the record, she doesn't turn nine months old until the 21st, so theoretically we could say she started walking at eight months old. Good grief. She's still this tiny baby, and yet she is so determined to keep up with her sister. She has adopted the motto of "Anything you can do, I can do sooner." First tooth. Crawling. Walking. Sleeping through the night. I'm not quick on the bragging rights because for one, walking early doesn't mean anything. And two, this competitive streak, this force of nature that compels her to move all the time is going to keep me on my toes for a very long time. Sydney is my cautious, hesitant one. Jules, not so much.

I mentioned to a friend of mine last night that Jules had taken her first steps, and she said, "Everyone in your family is so athletic. Even your girls."

Not sure if walking early is an indication of athleticism, but it's definitely an indication that we're not ones to sit around. Sydney has learned to keep up with us, and now Jules is learning too. Even though Jason is far more athletic than I am--he plays basketball twice a week, runs, coaches soccer, ran in Hood-to-Coast, is already planning on running the Eugene Marathon next spring--I'm not exactly un-athletic. Sure, I may joke about being uncoordinated, but the truth is I have running in my genes. I didn't enjoy running that much until about five years ago, then I became addicted to it. Runners' high? Loved it.

Both my parents have run marathons, and my brother was the Division III Track and Field Athlete of the Year for his outstanding performance in long distance running. After Sydney was born, my brother's gift to me was a new pair of running shoes. Nothing says Congratulations like "Here's a pair of shoes to run off that baby fat." Kidding aside, I honestly wanted running shoes more than a pack of onesies so his gift was certainly appreciated.

So, I ran in those shoes. Put lots of miles on them, and was ready to get another pair because running shoes need to be replaced after 350-550 miles. But before I replaced them, I got pregnant, and I stopped running. Then Julianne was born last December, but I was so not up for getting back in shape by running in the rain. I'm not that dedicated.

Summer arrived, and with it my new determination to exercise more often. Not only did I have the goal of getting back into my wedding dress for our 10-year anniversary, I knew I would just feel better if I was in shape. It helps me clear my head and get rid of mental stress. I vowed that I would get back to running. To help me out with my new goal I got a new pair of running shoes from PBN. They outfitted me with running shoes from Ryka; specifically, this pair of MC2 Run.

The shoes feel great on my feet. They aren't too heavy, and the soles are nicely cushioned. Even the laces are sturdy, which is good since Julianne loves to chew on them. As soon as I got them I immediately put insoles in them because I have ridiculously flat feet and so need special arch support. I'm sure my feet problems contributed to me getting tendonitis in both my knees when I started exercising after Sydney was born three years ago. This time around, I was smarter. Good shoes are the best place to start when beginning any exercise program, but it's super important to have the proper insoles if you have feet with issues. In fact, after these MC2s reach their mileage, I'm going to get a different pair of Ryka shoes specifically designed for flat feet (which I discovered using their ShoeFinder guide). Additionally, if you have tendon/joint problems, it's a good idea to wear knee straps like I do to help alleviate that pain in the patella. (I should once again mention my brother since he's the one who gave me the knee straps. It's nice to have a super athlete/physical therapist in the family!).

Okay, so after having the shoes for over a couple months, I admit I'm not in running shape yet. More like, walking while pushing 50 pounds of stroller around the neighborhood kind of shape. Even though the shoes are attractive and comfortable and fun to wear, they don't have that magical ability to instantly transform my legs into power-horses. I'm still in serious need of some muscle, except in my arms that are fabulously toned from picking up kiddos are the livelong day. Yeah, I could totally almost beat my sister in an arm-wrestling contest, I just know it.

However, I have done enough walking/wandering/hopping along to make a difference: I am proud to say that as of one week ago I am now back to my pre-pregnancy weight and can fit into almost everything in my wardrobe. Sure, it took me eight months (and more than a few nights of going to bed hungry), but I did it. (And if you say, as a certain parent of mine did, "Great! Now it's time to get pregnant again!" I will run screaming from the room.)

I feel confident that my feet are in good shape wearing good shoes, and now that there is a new walker in the house, I'd say these shoes came just in time.

*****

Good news for you if you want some new shoes! Ryka is giving away 50 pairs of new shoes EVERY SINGLE DAY until October. You definitely should sign up for that.

Plus, Parent Bloggers Network is also hosting a contest today to give away more Ryka shoes. Check out the details here.

Maurice Hilleman might have saved your life

A few  years ago I saw my mom reading a book about the 1918 flu epidemic. I borrowed it from her, and got around to reading through it last summer. The book bogged down a bit in a few parts, but it was still interesting. (Did you know more soldiers died from the flu than were killed in action? Did you know that another flu epidemic is likely to strike in the next 20 years?) Even though I am not by any stretch of the imagination a "science person," I do enjoy a good book about diseases because I find the story of epidemics and plagues fascinating. Germs don't really scare me much, for whatever reason. Deep water, yes. Spiders, ohmygosh yes. Germs? Eh, not so much.

Because of my basic interest and knowledge of flu epidemics and such, I have kept up with news stories about the bird flu and other flu-ish outbreaks. I also have followed the media circus surrounding vaccinations. Just in the last several years, vaccinations have come under fire as a possible cause for autism. First it was the MMR vaccination that caused autism, but it turned out there wasn't sufficient evidence to support this claim. Then it was mercury in vaccinations that caused autism, but that wasn't fact either. Then it was the chickenpox vaccination, but no clear link there either.

If I needed further proof of the positives of vaccinations, I got it in the form of a new book that just came out last week. Parent Bloggers Network sent me a proof copy of Dr. Paul Offit's new book called Vaccinated: One Man's Quest to Defeat the World's Deadliest Diseases, which I just finished only moments ago (I started it several weeks ago and then homework fell from the heavens, so I couldn't get back to reading it until this weekend).

The story is about Maurice Hilleman, a scientist from Montana. Never heard of him? Have you heard of measles, mumps, rubella, chickenpox, hep A, hep B, pneumococcus, meningoccus, and Hib? Hilleman is the guy who created vaccines to all these diseases. Yeah. Impressive.

Before Hilleman's death in April 2005, he told his story to Dr. Offit, resulting in this book that encompasses not only his life and professional career, but also the history of the field in which he was working. The narrative, while occasionally jumping awkwardly between direct quotes and explanatory prose, holds together as an informative and compelling story. It's no quick read, that's for sure, but it is well researched. And while the plot centers around Hilleman, there are lots of side-plots that bring in a considerable amount of the history of vaccinations--stories about Pasteur (rabies vaccine), Salk and Sabin (polio). If you're not really interested like I am in all the backstory and political shadows of vaccines, then the first three-fourths of the book might not catch your attention. But the final few chapters should be mandatory reading for anyone who questions whether or not vaccinations are necessary.

I know that there is a growing population of parents out there who don't want to vaccinate their kids, whether for personal or religious reasons. Even in my own Christian community, not many parents support the idea of giving teenage girls the papillomavirus vaccine, which prevents cervical cancer. And up until I read this book I thought, "Well, whatever. It's their kid." I effectively had no opinion on vaccinations.

This book changed my mind on that.

As I was reading about life in sub-Saharan Africa where most children aren't able to get vaccinated, the thought occurred to me that one of the reasons why I feel safe to take my young children out into society, allowing them to play with other children, is because I assume that those children have been vaccinated against some of the deadlier diseases. Certainly, I know that my kids aren't immune to all contagious diseases out there, but I don't imagine that they will catch measles. I don't worry about polio or diphtheria or mumps or smallpox. I don't worry about these diseases because with immunizations these are preventable diseases. But what about the kids who parents don't believe in immunizations? What about the parents who are willing to put my child's life in jeopardy for their personal beliefs? What about the parents who are essentially counting on every one else to immunize their children so that their own non-immunized kid won't get sick? When personal beliefs end up with very public results, yeah, well, I have opinions about that.

Sure, some kids have compromised immune systems and can't get vaccines. I get that. And I certainly understand the hesitancy to use new vaccines, especially if their pediatricians aren't recommending them. When I took Jules in for her Well Baby check a few weeks ago, I passed on one of the new vaccines (for a disease I hadn't heard of and don't remember) because our doctor said that it had just been rereleased after a decade-long FDA ban because the original version had nasty side-effects. My decision was also helped along because our doctor said he wasn't giving it to his daughter. Maybe this makes me a hypocrite, what with all my "vaccinate your kids" passion, but I guess the immunizations I feel most strongly about using are the ones that have been around for years.

At the end of the day, I'll definitely remember one of the final quotes from the book:

"Despite all of society's negative pressures, vaccination has proven itself beyond the shadow of a doubt to be the most logical way to control infectious diseases in a community.... The success story is undeniable. There is no measles, a little bit of mumps, no rubella, a little bit of hepatitis B in many communities. And the reason is vaccination....  But it's not free. It comes with a price, an imperative. And that is that you have to keep using it."

So, thumbs up on the book. And yay for Maurice Hilleman.

Week 152: To cheer, to run

3 hours, 46 minutes, 34 seconds.

He did it. Jason finished the Eugene Marathon this morning. He's been training for a couple months now, and today was the big day to put his feet to the 26.2 mile test. (And to save you from possibly embarrassing yourself in the future, you should never ask, "So how long is this marathon?" All marathons are the same distance.)

Since he had to report to the starting line at Hayward Field at 6:30 AM, we had to wake up very early to make the hour-drive down there. We packed everything the night before so we just had to wake up, get the girls in the car, and head out. Well, we packed almost everything. We forgot shoes for Sydney. Better than forgetting diapers.

Even though Eugene is the track-and-field capital of the world, they have never hosted a marathon. It was pretty cool that Jason got to participate in their first one. It was very organized, with thousands of volunteers. It was also a beautiful course -- along the Willamette River, as well as some of the streets of Eugene and Springfield -- and had very few hills. It sounds like the kind of marathon I would like to run, whenever that comes along. Not anytime soon.

The race started at 7 AM, and Jason along with our friend Paul were off.

See Jason run. Run Jason run. Run run run.

It's a bit tricky to watch too much of a marathon without having to jog all over the place, so the girls and I headed over to Jason's grandparents' house to hang out for awhile. Eventually we headed across the street to see Jason and Paul run by at the 20 mile mark.

Sydney and I had lots of fun cheering the runners on while we waited for Jason to pass by. We clapped and cheered, and Sydney totally got into it by alternately yelling "Go, Runners, Go!" and "Good job!" She was rewarded with smiles and waves from lots of the runners. We practiced and practiced our cheer for when Jason would run by, and when he finally did, Sydney held out her hand full of pebbles and yelled:

"Look Dad! I have rocks!"

So, maybe motivational speaker isn't in her future.

It was a fun day though. I'm so proud of Jason. He crossed the finish line at Autzen Stadium, got his medal and a bottle of water, and said, "I'm tired." I would be too. (At least he felt better than the first marathon runner, who ran the distance to announce the Greeks had defeated the Persians only to die moments later from exhaustion. Bummer.) In the end Jason placed 462 out of 1496 runners, 357 out of 835 men, and was 53 out of 117 in his division (men 18-34). Better than average. But of course I knew that. He's amazing. An amazing race for an amazing man.

Truthfully, he doesn't actually like running all that much, but wanted to train for this because he thought it would be a good experience. Something to check off his list of things to do.

Ride a bicycle from Oregon to Washington, DC? Check.

Ride a bicycle all along the Oregon Coast? Check. (I did that too.)

Run a marathon? Check.

That's my guy, always the athlete. More than 14 years ago I started cheering for him when he was playing basketball in high school. Later on, I cheered for him when he played college soccer. And still later, I cheered for him when he coached both basketball and soccer.

Today I got to cheer him on in his first race. I never get tired of cheering for him. I'm sure I never will.

I love you, Shmoopie. I'm so proud of you. xx

Fact: Water is good for you

(Quite possibly this is filed under the "too much information" area, but such is life.)

Even though I hear all the cool people drink water, I am not a water drinker. I know it's good for me. I know it's the secret ingredient to just about everything: losing weight, better hair, sparkling personality. I have clearly sacrificed all those things to avoid drinking water. Obviously, it's not like I don't drink anything. I drink juice. I drink pop every once in awhile (or "soda" as I learned to call it in my waitressing days). I drink tea. Just not water because I don't like the non-taste of it. I want my beverages to have some sort of texture, and water doesn't do it for me. Sadly I have passed along this trait to Sydney, who guzzles no less than 30 ounces of juice a day, although really her juice is more like flavored water on account of us watering her juice down quite a bit.

So this no-water arrangement usually works out for me. Usually.

Except yesterday. When I woke up and my kidneys were screaming at me. You think you can eat cup-of-noodles and get away with it? A snack sized bag of Fritos?! Just because those saltine crackers are low-sodium doesn't mean you can go ahead slather them with butter!

They were really irked, and therefore decided to put me out of commission for the day. Several years ago I had a kidney stone, and I had all the same symptoms of that yesterday. It's my own fault really. If you don't drink enough water then microscopic-sized meteors will prance about your kidneys having a grand old time. Not to mention the fact that I'm nursing, so most of my fluids take an alternate route of escape. I've learned that kidneys do not like to be ignored like this.

So, I consumed a lot of water yesterday. In fact, I consumed a lot of hot water yesterday because (1) it makes me feel like I'm drinking tea, except that the flavor is really mild, and (2) I thought a hot bath might calm the kidneys down. Works for me, anyway. I also had to skip my morning meeting with my sweet MOPS friends (who I forgot to mention threw me a surprise baby shower on Friday--how amazing are they? SO amazing). Plus, I canceled my afternoon class. I'm sure my students were really bummed about that since they were supposed to take their midterm exam.

So, lots of water drinking for me. And in the very painful end, that seemed to do the trick. Good thing.

And now I'm using some lovely lemon slices to help me continue on with my water drinking habit. It's like drinking lemonade. Only not quite.

Llama llama red pajama, why is sleep so hard for Mama?

It's so satisfying to read a book that makes your life better, isn't it?

During the first two years of Sydney's life I had very few good nights of sleep. More days than not I was exhausted, low on energy, and fighting an uphill battle to not get depressed. But we got through it, and now she sleeps like a champ.

Just in time, of course, for another little person to start stealing my sleep. Oh...yay.

We all know what a bad night's sleep looks like. But if you're a parent, you really know what disordered sleep can do for you. It kills you. Night by miserable night. After that first year of parenthood, you have lost more than 200 hours of sleep. Good thing those little kiddos are worth it, although I confess to sobbing more than once during the night-time misadventures: no. more. kids.

I will say that Julianne is a better sleeper than Sydney was (praise God for that), but I'm still not getting the sleep that I wish I was getting. I've read half a dozen books on getting my kids to sleep better, but never read one on getting me to sleep better. So, given the opportunity to read such a book you bet I was all over that like...like some clever metaphor that I can't think of because I've learned that my brain is functioning at a less than optimum performance due to sleep loss.

The answer to the problems of my life? The Bible. The answer to the other problems of my life? Good Night: The Sleep Doctor's 4-Week Program to Better Sleep and Better Health. I knew before starting the book that I needed more sleep. Duh. If the author's prescription was going to be "get more sleep and your life will be better" I was going to be annoyed that this Dr. Breus fellow was living in the world of perfect situations (no kids, no stress job, no tossing and turning husband).

Oh, Dr. Breus, you didn't let me down. He writes on page 25:

"Given my experience I'm inclined to admit that women, as a gender, appear to bear numerous stresses due to the multi-faceted nature of their roles in today's society. Mom. Wife. Employee. Chauffeur. Cook. Cleaner. Business Owner. Family manager. Caretaker, etc. When I sit and talk with my female patients...we discuss everything from pregnancy to menopause, to career, to marriage, and that word "balance," and I know I've got it much easier than many of them."

Okay. He gets it. I mean all this stuff is a no-brainer, but still. He gets it. Sometimes sleep becomes the last thing on the to do list, and we give it up to get other stuff done, like laundry and bill paying and blogging. The real kicker though is that Dr. Breus says (my paraphrase), I get that. And here's why you need better sleep if you're going to be able to accomplish all that.

Dr. Breus, a medically certified sleep specialist, writes about all the stuff that can take our sleep away, and then basically says, You owe it to yourself, your family, your health, and your overall well-being to sleep better. It's one of the most important things you can do. I know I didn't need permission to request more sleep, but it was good to read about how critical it is to my life. Maybe, just maybe, I need to go to bed earlier. Maybe...*sigh*... I shouldn't give up sleep hours to blog.

Essentially, Dr. Breus develops the answer to the question, "What does a good night's sleep look like and how can I get it?" Even though he has several pages devoted to the science of sleeping, the book is most helpful in actual tips for helping create an environment and lifestyle that are suited for better sleeping. It is possible to wake up in the morning and not feel like your eyes are full of sand.

The book is extremely practical all the way from providing quizzes that assess what your sleep problems might be, to how to make the most of naps, to how sleep helps you lose weight, to how to get your bedroom to be a place where you can sleep better. (I was one step ahead of him on this one because I had already implemented some of his suggestions: paint the room calm colors, get the stressful paper stuff out of the room, put up pictures that calm you, use room-darkening drapes. Today on my to-do list: get night lights, and buy a new pillow for Jason.)

I came away from the book realizing that because my 'during the night sleep' isn't going to be perfect, then I need to make going to bed earlier a priority. If that means taping my tv shows, if that means that I leave a blog unposted and an email unanswered and a paper ungraded, then that's the way it goes. My mental and physical health is dependent upon more--and better--sleep.

HERE'S THE PART WHERE YOU NEED TO STOP SKIM READING: I truly believe this book has something important to say about the necessity of sleep. Even if you think you're a good sleeper, I bet there's something in this book that can make your sleeping even better. It includes a four-week plan on how to get better sleep, and I'll let you know how things are going when I've finished the other three weeks.

In a nutshell: this book is good. It's super helpful. It's completely changed the way I view sleep. Sleep isn't a luxury item. I need it to stay positive. I need it to lose weight. I need it to be a good parent. I need it to be a good wife. I need it to be an effective person in society who can make a difference.

-----

So that's my review of the book. I was lucky enough to get my copy free from Parent Bloggers Network, but it's definitely worth the almost $16 you can get it for on Amazon. Even if you just go to the library or bookstore and spend an hour glancing through it you'll discover things you didn't know about sleeping. Or you could also go to his blog, or his articles on Web MD, or his web site which has a lot of the information that's found in the book. (Sidenote: the only thing that seemed a bit overdone was how often he referred to his web site, although I suppose this would be helpful to those who are just glancing at small sections of the book. I did get a nice chuckle, however, when I saw on page 195 that he misspelled the url his web site.)

And just, fyi, I'm not giving this book a good review because I got it free and because I'm affiliated with PBN. I am completely allowed to give it a bad review, which you know I would because there are too many good books out there for you to waste your time on dumb ones. I firmly believe this. That said, this is a really helpful book. Five twinkling stars from me.

Relief and Worry

"Making the decision to have a child--it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." --Elizabeth Stone

Tuesday I had an ultrasound to make sure that everything was moving along properly. I haven't been gaining weight as much as I should (although this week's candy splurge should remedy that), so the doctor wanted to see if baby was still measuring where she should be.

The good news is Baby is doing fine. The other good news is that I'm not low on amniotic fluid, which had been another concern. I've tried to be pretty even keeled about the whole thing, but of course there was a certain worrying doubt that tugged at my mind before I went it.

An ultrasound at 33 weeks isn't really as interesting as the ultrasound at 18 weeks. The first time, that first view...the image shows up and there! a baby! a whole entire, complete little baby. It's amazing.

The second time around, the image is a lot more crowded. I couldn't figure out what the heck the technician was measuring. Every once in awhile she'd sweep over Baby's face, and I'd think, "There! A baby!" but then she'd quickly move on to the next mystery shape. After she was all finished, we spent a few moments watching Baby's little mouth sucking (not on her thumb, just that reflex that babies have) and the technician printed off a couple pictures for me. I think Baby and Sydney may end up with the same nose (my nose), which probably means that the rest of her will look just like Jason. Maybe that means blue eyes.

So, one less thing to worry about. I haven't been all that worried about this pregnancy, but then again I haven't really been all that emotional about this pregnancy. There are certain emotions I do feel, but I'm waiting for them to resolve themselves before writing about them. Let's just say, I was quick to fall in love with Sydney before she was born; this time around, I'm not there yet.

Naturally, as quick as one worry is resolved, another pops up. Sydney's eyes have begun crossing again even when she's wearing glasses, so that means her vision is worsening. Since her doctor has assured us that there isn't any sort of muscular problem, then I suppose the most they'll do when we go in is give her a stronger prescription. It's not a huge deal, but when my tough-and-brave defenses are down I can't help wondering what the future looks like for Sydney when she is already experiencing deteriorated eyesight at two.

Some days it is hard to keep this external heart that has attached itself to our children from falling apart. This little piece of our heart is labeled "joy," this piece is "health," over here is "security." We want so much for them, and when one piece starts to crack a little bit we can't help but fear that all the other pieces will crack too. I don't want to be that mom whose life is plagued with worry, but oh how our emotions sometimes get the better of us despite our best intentions.

But, back to my toughness and braveness: I have no control over the future. My worrying won't improve her eyes, and my worst-case-scenarios will only drive me crazy. Tuesday's ultrasound got us through one hurdle; I'll wait until Sydnikin's appointment on December 4th to see how we'll get through the next one. Whatever it is, big or small, we'll get through it. Because, really, what other option do we have?

A Free Day

We had a very busy week because Jason's brother was visiting from out of town, so I had many plans lined up for today--my day off from "parenting." With Sydney up in Washington with grandparents, then today would be my catch-up day. I had grading, cleaning, grocery shopping, and perhaps even a bit of reading on the agenda for today. Even Jason had half the day off, so perhaps we'd even go to a movie.

But first up: a doctor's appointment.

Generally my appointment with the doctor is rather unextraordinary. She asks me how I'm feeling; I say, "As good as can be expected"; she asks me if I'm taking prenatal vitamins; I waffle a bit and say "mostly"; she tells me to come back in four weeks. I have few pregnancy fears, and few questions to ask, so I suspect I'm one of the shorter pregnancy appointments she has during the day.

Today's appointment, however, added some drama to the day. Some blood results had come back, and my doctor reported that I was very anemic. I was anemic before, but now per her directions "have to take those prenatal vitamins and iron supplements even if they do make me sick." And then because I happened to mention that the results explained why I had been feeling light-headed, short of breath, and exhausted all the time, she doubled her previously prescribed amount of iron. Hooray for me. Really. What's not to love about pregnancy?

Then after some measuring and poking and pondering, she orders up an additional ultrasound in three weeks because I'm on the very low side of normal. "Just to make sure everything is okay and on track," she assures me. I still don't freak out too much because I figure that if it were a real emergency she would have marched me up to get an ultrasound today.

I'm still feeling energetic enough after the appointment to go grocery shopping where I stock up on iron-loaded foods: dried apricots, prune juice, bananas. I'm determined to boost my levels. And after all, perhaps this whole "iron makes me ill" is just in my head. It's all a matter of mind over matter, right?

So at 11 am, I begin the battle against anemia by sending in the iron-clad troops.  First, an iron pill. Then I promptly pour myself a glass of prune juice, tell myself that Dr. Pepper is mostly prune juice so it couldn't be too bad, and take a big swig. I resist the urge to spit the vile liquid from my mouth--"It's all for the baby"--and eventually finish the glass. I bought two gallons of prune juice today, thinking I'd be a good girl and get through them this week. Yeah. Might take me a little longer than that. It is seriously gross stuff, right on par with tomato juice, and I will have to do a bit of experimenting to see what the best method might be for consumption. Heating it up? Adding ginger ale? Cranberry juice? Whipped cream? We'll see.

And finally, rounding out the trifecta of reinforcements,  I consumed an entire bag of dried apricots. Take that, anemia.

That was about 11:30. I go to a meeting at school, and get some planning done.

I'm holding strong at 1. I go home to get more grading done.

Around 2, my body has sent in the cavalcade. I am forced to pause from my activities.

And by 3 o'clock, my body sent in the Navy Seals, the Army Rangers, and whatever other elite group it needed to knock me down. Literally.

So, I may have overdone it a bit on the iron. From the sounds coming from my stomach, a true war was waging and my mantra of "mind over matter" quickly raised the white flag of retreat. Too ill to grade. Too in pain to read. Too weak to think about cleaning. There went my free day. At least Sydney was gone so that I didn't have to worry about taking care of her.

Body: 1. Me: 0.

No matter. I'm taking that iron pill again tomorrow.

I might pass on the prune juice.

Week 31: Feeling Resolute

I'm not one for resolutions. Maybe because I take them too seriously and then feel guilty about it if I don't follow through. And Lord knows I don't need anymore guilt than I already endure every day (laundry, dusting, dishes, more laundry, letting Sydney cry herself to sleep). I was trying to remember if I even made a resolution last year. I think I decided, "I'm having a baby for cryin' out loud, what more is expected of me?!" It's very probable I even said this aloud, causing Daisy to hide under the covers of the bed.

But this year, I've decided that setting goals can be a positive thing in my life. Just a few. No sense in creating an atmosphere of failure. I'll even throw in a few resolutions I already kind of do, that way I know I'll have some measure of success. It's like a little pat on the back everyday. Good work, you, for following through on those resolutions.

• #1: Do Pilates or some form of exercise at least 3 days a week. This is when I wish the new year was in June, because I exercise every day of the week during the summer. But I'm not all that keen on exercising indoors. It just feels sort of...weird. Nevertheless, I feel so much better (okay, I'll say it: I feel centered) after I exercise.
• #2: Regain my pre-Sydney waist line. I've lost all the weight I can lose (until Syd quits nursing), but that tummy of mine is still too squishy. It's a true distraction to me; call it immaturity, call it superficial. That's the way it goes. Conveniently, I don't remember what my waist line was BEFORE I got pregnant (because who measures their waist line when they already feel in shape?). But I'm not telling what my goal is...you'd all think I was delusional.
• #3: Read an actual novel every month. Not a baby help book. Not a cookbook. Not In Style magazine. I get a head start on this resolution because I have to read 4 novels in the next nine weeks for my Modern Irish Lit class (STARTS WEDNESDAY!!! Woo hoo!).
• #4: Write something. I'm deliberately keeping this one vague because it encompasses a lot. Blogging counts (yes, it does). But I'd like to write letters to my friends, and then also *ahem* I'd like to write a *cough* children's book.
• #5: Make a better effort at keeping the house in order. I actually do okay at this, but I could do a lot better. I'm not brave enough to resolve to "keep my room and bathroom as clean as the rest of my house" (you're my hero, Rach). But knowing that the most romantic thing I could do for my darling husband is to clean the house inspires me to work harder at it.
• #6: Find outlets for my creativity. It might be that knitting will fulfill this resolution. And now that I've learned how to knit AND purl, well, the sky's the limit. I'm also helping direct A Midsummer Night's Dream at the college (starting in two weeks). Fortunately, all the other resolutions contribute to this last resolution (yes, even exercising. When I feel good, I feel creative).

So that's it. I'm also making a Mondo Beyondo list because resolutions and dreams are entirely different things.

As for Syd's resolution...suffice it to say, she needs to resolve to start sleeping through the night. Unless she wants to stay an only child. Which would actually make it easier for me to keep all my resolutions.