(Nearly) Midnight Ramblings

It's 11:30 pm and I should have gone to bed 2 hours ago with Katy.

I'm totally wiped out.  Watching BS television and working on work emails and schedules that I can't get to during the day.  There is a lot of stuff in me that I want to wiggle it's way out - onto the pages of this blog and/or some other writing space.  But there are so many attention and time demands.

I'm working too hard at work to feel this behind the 8 ball.  It's just a 60 hour job that I'm trying to do in 45-50 hours a week.  and the time with the kids... it is so short and fleeting (except the middle of the night crying jags that we have been blessed with on and off these last few weeks- those don't seem so short)

These boys are so cute and happy and loved.
Jake is reading and learning about space in kindergarten.  He's gotten really good at drawing and coloring.  He likes wrestling and story-telling (or having stories told to him).  Jake is solid and occasionally anxious.  He likes patterns and predictability, but still asks me at night to "Sing me a song I've never heard before").  He vacillates between stoicism and complete intolerance of discomfort and hyperbolic expression of pain.  Tonight, he banged his shins and when i told him it would be okay and he would feel better soon, he told me "I WILL NOT BE OKAY...THEY WILL NEVER FEEL BETTER... "  After his bath when I absentmindedly pointed out to him that his underwear were ripping in the backside's seam, he burst into tears: "THEY'RE MY FAVORITE PAIR!" He wailed. I tried to express empathy for my softhearted, exhausted boy. But when it went on too long I had to walk away before I did something that would incite him. (Like try not to laugh hysterically while ripping the underwear in half.)

I notice him yawning when asked to recite prayers and songs or poems that I know he has memorized.  The yawns are so predictable that I've come to recognize them as a form of avoidance and/or nervousness.  The top 2 reasons he receives a reprimand these days are: for "talking baby-talk" (also usually happens when he knows he's doing something he shouldn't be or when he's afraid he might be wrong or in trouble - ie "nervousness") and not heeding the warning: "Be nice to your brother."

Milo is about 2 weeks off the binki (a story about that to follow) and still the happiest of us all.  He will give you every version of toddler "F.U." if you try to get him to do something he doesn't want to, but oh, the laugh on that kid.  as much as he gets labeled our "frat boy", Milo is also a sensitive soul.  Usually rushing to us (and always his brother) to see if we're okay.  Today, he took off his underwear, balled them up, handed them to me and said, "Here, smell these and you'll get a big surprise!!!"
Milo, hates hats and gloves and going to bed.  He wants to go potty and wants a drink of water and ine more kiss and a song and a song and a song, and then he will place a tiny protective arm around the neck of the parent putting him to bed and give a pleading whine: "I want you."  He is our little musician and tonight, he whipped through about 6 different songs that are in our bedtime ritual, but we've never really heard him sing before.  He knew EVERY WORD. it was touching and startling in an "other worldly" kind of way. It turns out (as Katy pointed out) he ACTUALLY IS... a good listener.

They are my heart.  My love.  My pride and joy.  These boys make me wish for more hours in the day, week, year.

Falling asleep... more to come

The week in review

In the last 7 days, Obama freed the gays*, North Carolina outlawed them, we've celebrated/endured nurses' week, mother's day, and gone through a 12 pack of ginger-ale**.  In the last seven days, the boys have worn their raincoats, their winter coats, and their bathing suits- so swings the weather in these parts at this time of the year...

The Ta-bar pool opened today at a crisp, cool 76 degrees. (We all went in but Katy). And I predict both these boys will be swimming without "swimmies" by the end of the summer (Mac and Cam are already there).  Softball starts tomorrow.  I have a lot to write about, but I'm so very sleepy.

The new job is absurd.  Good, but a little like being a lost kid at a big fair... Except, I'm not a kid, and I have a map, but they change the fair grounds every night... and there are a lot of emails... And I keep staying awake every night wondering if I should suggest to my bosses that maybe they should keep the fair grounds looking like the map they hand out.  Also, I find myself wanting to shout a lot, "THE EMPEROR HAS NO CLOTHES ON!" 

*OBAMA did not actually free the gays, but he did publicly state is personal support for marriage equality which as Joe Biden would say, "...is a big fucking deal."

**Jake was vomiting last weekend and I spent Friday night wondering how my body could eject the contents of my stomach with such force that jet engine blasters seem comparatively ineffectual and weak.  

The Weight and Wait of Parenthood

[Author's note: This post is a little more raw (and long) than most that I put up... I've just had a lot on my mind and I'm trying to "Shake some things out". To all our peeps out there who are going through crazy shit. We love you. The greatest gifts include friends that will not only support you, but turn to you and lean, rely, and/or involve you in their sorrow. The friends that wade around in the muck with you are treasures, but the ones that ask you to be in the muck with them are truly a gift. To all of you who are willing (and even eager) to read the multitude of words below- and read this blog on a regular basis, I hope you know that supporting my writing this way is a gift that I can't really repay except to say, "Thank you for hanging out with me in the muck that my mind creates. I really appreciate it." This post has taken me about 2 weeks to write and another week to "clean up". It's still a disaster and probably not fit for public consumption. HAHA! Enter the Blogosphere... especially after that really sweet thank you that I wrote up there, you're practically emotionally blackmailed into reading the snivel below :)!!!]
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I'm in one of those "things" right now. It's a warm, sunny 65 degrees out. The mild winter has given over to an early Spring. Our bellies are full. Our money is sufficient. Our careers are fulfilling and still full of promise. Our children are healthy and beautiful, talented and delightful. Our family and friends abundantly generous and loving. But...

Regrets collect like old friends
Here to relive your darkest moments
I can see no way, I can see no way
And all of the ghouls come out to play

And every demon wants his pound of flesh
But I like to keep some things to myself
I like to keep my issues drawn
It's always darkest before the dawn

I'm in a tender spot. When I just carried a sleeping Milo from the car to his bed to finish his mid-day nap, I nearly broke apart into tears- tears of happiness, tears of sorrow, tears of worry, tears of heaven only knows what. Carrying him, I couldn't help note the weight of him- symbolic of so much contradiction: He's so big and so tiny at the same time. He's everything we needed to complete our little family, everything we wanted and dreamed of... he's so needy and so independent. At 2 1/2 years, he has already changed me, taught me things I didn't know I didn't know. I went to put him in his bed and stopped and held on. I cradled him close for a few more moments. I thought of our friends and family members who have lost children and pushed that terrible terror back down into my gut and summonsed the happiness and clarity of this perfect moment. His weight and beauty so tangible. This is parenthood, the weight of holding on, the weight of letting go. The joy and grief of holding on to something that you are simultaneously preparing to let go of... Like the very breath in your lungs.

"Waiting for the other shoe to drop" used to be something I did with intense vigilance. But for most of the last 10 years, I've gotten better about it. Be present, be zen, consider the lilies in the field... yada, yada.

I think I've mentioned it here before, I come from people that tend NOT to be superstitious; but sometimes one or two living ancestors will admit that within the core values subtly passed down (especially to and from the women) is embedded a belief that you can somehow ward off tragedy if you put enough effort into preventative forms of worry.

And I've been a fool and I've been blind
I can never leave the past behind
I can see no way, I can see no way
I'm always dragging that horse around

All of these questions, such a mournful sound
Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground
So I like to keep my issues drawn
But it's always darkest before the dawn

The last several months, life for me personally has changed considerably- almost entirely related to changing jobs. I had to say "I'll see you around" to some very fun, lovable, trustworthy friends that I worked with every day. And then I started to spend my days as a stranger on foreign turf with people I don't know well, if at all. I left a position where a lot of decision making authority was in my hands, to take a position where there are several more layers of managers above me, weighing in on decisions that would have been mine at the other shop.

Due to the size of the institution that I currently work at, earning trust, making a good first impression, and doing lot of homework to understand history and context has become the most important aspect of my daily professional life for the past 3 1/2 months. Learning a bunch of new names, systems, and the rules of an odd new game is the kind of roller-coaster excitement my brain thrives on, but the kind of "why am I stuck to the side of this centrifuge?!?" nausea that my intestines just can't wait to be over.

Concurrently, longer work hours mean that the family dynamic has shifted slightly. The boys (who were theoretically equally reliant on both Mommy and Mama) have grown to expect more time with Mama during the work week. The job is going well, Katy has been amazing, but I have to admit all of this has left me to feel a bit vulnerable and somewhat insecure in my roles both at home and in the office.

Frankly this is an unsettling side-effect of what should be a win-win scenario. By all accounts, I am doing well in the new job- getting great feedback about my performance and feeling at least an intermittent sense of accomplishment. Additionally, our family structure is a might bit stronger now owing to the increased money and stability, that accompanies the new job.

It's confusing to just not feel "happy-happy-happy" when all indicators (seasonal, economic, social, professional) indicate that conditions are more than ripe for contentment and bliss...

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh whoa

For whatever reason, my reaction to the stress of these "life-changes" includes a heightened awareness of all that can (and does) go wrong in life. And an empathetic desire to run to people that I love who are in heavy-hearted times and wrap them in some magic blanket... Maybe as a way to deflect my own fears and insecurities.

At this very moment in time, we have friends that are sick, dying, have cancer, have children with cancer, are on the brink of divorce, trying to forgive a spouse for cheating, are losing their parents, are losing their jobs, are reeling from the suicide of a friend, are trying to recover from depression, illness, injury, addiction, are picking up their lives and moving across the country to follow their dreams... I'm not generalizing here, like, "We mostly likely know people who are going through these types of things..." I mean there are individuals that we care about very much that all of those things are happening to.

And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back
And given half the chance would I take any of it back
It's a fine romance but it's left me so undone
It's always darkest before the dawn

Oh whoa, oh whoa...

One of the mornings in the last several weeks, both boys were in bed with us- a surprisingly rare occurrence- and Jake, recovering from his 2nd bout of pneumonia in as many months, hacked a junky hack without waking; and Milo put his hand on my face and sighed a sleep-drenched sigh. I reached over and touched Katy with my palm, the underside of my arm resting on the two small heads in the middle. In that moment, I felt so light. Yes, our days were slightly too filled with mucus, yes we are a bit over-tired, and yes, I was awake at the unGodly 3:44 AM... but this was the exact type of moment I yearned for all those years ago when we were ready to have a child, and it wasn't working.

I had this private moment of pure contentment and gratitude and then a few days later, C texted me from CA.

"How's it going?" I inquired which has recently become shorthand for "How's life in the strange, stressful land of baby-making?" (Or Turkey-baster-ville as we're inclined to refer to it with our lesbian friends).
She texted that they had decided to take a break from "trying".
"oh..." I replied.
"It was just a little too sad."

Yup. That wasn't just a text to me. Ugh. The memory of that place is not so far away. It came flushing back like a big wave. Reading that message on my iPhone, I FELT that sadness. It brought all my (current, unfocused, and practically unexplainable) sadness to a sharp point and in solidarity, I wanted to jab that point into my forearm.

Oh, that place of ache- Where you finally put out into the universe what you really WANT and it is not something small or material, but something tremendous and life altering. And you do it in humility with an understanding that you don't always get what you want; but you do it intentionally and you try to be patient in that place of uncertainty and vulnerability... And when it doesn't work, when the pee stick comes up negative month after month, at first it catches like a hangnail on your psyche, and then it starts to feel like something life-threatening. And you don't know why it hurts that much because you look around and your life is pretty damn good. It's confusing to feel such gratitude and such grief at the same time.

The very same hour I received the text from C, I heard this story on NPR. And I just couldn't believe the timing. I had a little epiphany, and got a little closer to understanding it.

I think the reason it hurts so much is because your kids are out there, and you're worried about them even if you haven't met them yet... You can feel these little spirits out there- the ones that are to be your children. You feel their breath on your neck sometimes, even before they exist. You feel it so real it cannot be mere imagination. And you want to trust what you've been told (what you generally believe) that everything happens for a reason... all in good time, etc... but still, ask any parent... being away from your kids is really quite devastating.

And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't
So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my rope
And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope
It's a shot in the dark aimed right at my throat
Cause looking for heaven, found the devil in me
Looking for heaven, found the devil in me
Well what the hell I'm gonna let it happen to me

One of my best friends from childhood, A, is in the last heat of the parenting Olympic trials. The event is a new one called: "You think you've had a bad year? You should see the shit I've been dealing with for the last 12 months!!!" If you turn on the news on any particular day you realize that she's probably not even in medal contention, because there is no limit to the amount of heartbreak in the world. But last May, her oldest son was convicted of a serious crime. After sitting through a trial during which the police involved contradicted their own testimony and perjured themselves, and the "victim" denied the original accusation on the witness stand, she started to believe that everything was going to be okay. And then had to listen to the jury return a guilty verdict that was beyond the understanding of most of the legal experts in the room. Her son has been in a maximum security state prison since he was sentenced and though it's been nearly a year, there is no word on when the appeal will be scheduled.

The physical, psychological, and societal separation from her full-grown (but-still-her-baby) son has been shocking. Yet, as she walks around, people can't even perceive the sadness she has endured. She's one of the strongest, most loving, generous, resourceful, lacking in self-pity, and rational people I've ever known. In the mean time, her 18 year old (second) son has told her she will become a grandmother in a few months. Not a tragedy by any stretch- but still- could we just possibly have dealt with one thing at a time. Speaking to her on the phone, I'm all like, "Don't buy one, single baby thing without checking with me first b/c we are about to unload everything you need from crib to boppy and I even have a whole bunch of stuff you'll probably wish you never heard of..."

I try to talk to her about what she needs, if there is anything I can do. But mostly what I want to ask her is, "How is your heart? Is there anything I can do "mother-to-mother" to help plug up any of the holes in your armor that might leave you exposed and vulnerable?" She tells me nonchalantly that this has taken it's toll on her relationship with her husband. And more pressing, he is finally working on treating his addictions. My heart sinks. Not really surprised at this news, that this has been happening in the background too. I just want to shake a fist at the furies and say, "GIVE HER A BREAK"!!!

"I don't know how you're holding it all together," I tell her.

"As if I have a choice" she says. And then she puts it out there and wraps the truth around both of us: There is nothing that matters as much as these things. This year of razor sharp heartbreak somehow brings with it validity and redemption. Sorrow to better enjoy the sweetness of life. There is no choice but to experience sorrow in life, but if there were, it might not be the best idea to opt out of it.

I do understands what she means. If you've never spent a day clawing out of a cave, or stroking a hand in a hospital room, or anxiously waiting outside of an ICU or a courtroom, it's hard not to pity your innocence. Blessedly rare are those individuals that are able to look upon and recognize actual happiness without the focusing lens of sorrow and heartbreak.

All I can say, to our friends C and L (struggling in Turkey-baster-ville) is, "I know. I'm sorry. Hang in there." I want to leave it at that because in my experience, when you are trying to get pregnant, people offer way too-fucking-much in the way of opinions and advice. But since no one has ever accused me of talking too little (why use 5 words when you can write 2500?) I'll add an encouraging, empathetic, tender-hearted:

"Get used to it".

Barely relying on metaphor, this is the start of parenthood. That negative pee stick, and all the things that will happen before and after you and your children are reunited it's like boot camp for your hearts; for the endurance marathon that follows. Stretch and pull and run, and use ice and heat intermittently to soothe your aches, and start to believe that you can do it, because you can... (but believing that you can is really half the battle).

It's already started, you don't even really have a choice in the matter.
It's both a long wait and a heavy weight.

But you can do it.

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh whoa

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh whoa

Happy New Year!!!

*
You would not F#@king believe what my kids are doing right now!?!

They are in the kitchen, 1 room away- playing together. Playing a game of their own mutual, instinctive invention; complete with spontaneous changes of position and offensive/defensive posturing. This game seems to be oddly competitive AND collaborative. There is no scoring, but nameless points seem to be earned by 1) Amount of noise made, 2) Ability to make your brother laugh, 3) Skillful kicking moves to propel a kid-sized yoga ball across the room, 4) Incorporation of kitchen furniture in the field of play.

There are power blocks and time-outs for body poses and setting up the next play. There's a scream during every maneuver and belly-giggles at every play's completion. There's a lot of wordless NOISE punctuated by bellows of "COME! ON! JAY! KEY!" (from Milo) and "YOU LIKE THAT, MI-MI?!?" (from Jake) and "HUT 1, HUT 2, HUT 3, HIKE!" (from both). The game they are playing is nothing like football, but somehow that stance and protocol has an obvious place in their contest.

Katy and I are (watching the Patriots play the game that will hopefully get them back into the Superbowl and) trying to stay out of the boys' game. But at the 37th (or so) minute mark, we are pretty sure there will be a head smacking against a wall and ensuing tears to pause or end the game at any minute. I can't believe my wife is okay with this volume, but the times they are a'changing and it is fairly awe-inspiring to see these little boys collaborating and entertaining each other with such gusto.

It's been a long time since I've blogged. There have been a lot of changes in my life- that can simply be summarized by saying I started a new job. I have been working my ass off, Katy has been working her ass off to support me in this new endeavor. Things have been in motion since the summer when I first interviewed for the position. Getting the job and negotiating the offer, making the decision to leave my old job and then transitioning out of a place that I have been for nearly 8 years- leaving co-workers that had become some of my best friends; starting a new job 7 weeks ago right before the holidays, this has been A LOT. It was the right decision for me, but this weekend, my body cried, "Uncle". I'm exhausted with a fairly significant cold. I spent most of the last two days working up to intermittent bursts of energy that were used to shovel freshly fallen snow, go sledding with the family, and run a few errands. The rest of the time, I have been reading and laying around with a heavy, drippy head and stuffed sinus cavities that left me feeling woozy and weak. I feel a little better now, but not quite ready to start the work week again.

Blogging more regularly was not a New Year's resolution this year, there were too many other New Year's resolutions that had to take precedence, but I really miss it and and intend to pay a bit more attention to it, now that I have gotten my toes submerged at the new job.

If you are still reading and checking in at the GSO, thank you! I've really missed spending some time with you here in this space. I can't wait to catch you up on the boys- they are so freaking cute and amazing... I just don't think I could love them any more than I do!


*Both photos are copyrighted and courtesy of our friend and photographer, Joey Jones. He's a great guy and does great work, check it out

It' sounds like a Tuberculosis ward in here, but the state of the family is strong...

Our kids are at their Sat AM events: Jake with Katy to dance, Milo with Papa to gymnastics. I have an hour to clean the house, but first give you a 10 second snap shot:

1) After suffering 6 weeks with a wet, productive, hacking cough Milo has been diagnosed with an ear infection. Three days on antibiotics and the cough is remarkably improved.

2) Jake has started asking every morning, "Can I have a little coffee?" which is his way of asking for a cough drop.

3) Yesterday I went to a "minute clinic" b/c I don't have a PCP (terrible) and I couldn't take my worsening cough and cold anymore. I got myself on some antibiotics and some allergy medication as well. I'm still an allergy denial-ist even in the face of mounting evidence that I have in fact developed seasonal allergies well into the 4th decade of my life

4) Katy caught the kids playing "We're late...we' re late... We're late..." with each other in the living room the other day. (Eye roll). I guess there are worse things we could be imitated for...

5) I gave my notice at work and will be changing jobs this month... Lots of anxiety to get us to this point and the next 2 week are going to be totally full THROTTLE wrapping up 7 plus years of unfinished TO DO lists, but when the dust settles, I'll write a little more about it...

Coming home tonight

Almost a week since my last post, but a lot has been happening...

I've been away.

I came home from Texas last Friday night (3/18). Spent Sat with the family: did some running around, playing with the kids, grocery shopping, etc. Went to a baby shower for my cousin's wife, spent a few hours with my CT cousin-friends (That's a word I just made up... It's like "sister-wife" in Mormon country, and is used to describe people that you are related to by birth, but more and more as you grow older, they are your friends. While we're here, I think I'll also coin the flip side: "friend-cousins": These are people like the Tabors/Menzies/Priors and the Vuolos... people who fate has so kindly intertwined your families' lives that you are friends with them, but you think of them as cousins...)

Then Katy's parents arrived (Granny and Granna) and we had dinner and I got to the business of packing a fresh suitcase, and bathing, smelling, and snuggling my kids enough to carry me though this week that I have also been away. Katy and I woke up at 3:30 in the AM (last Saturday) to get me to the airport for my 6am flight to Sunny and Warm LA county. The trip with layovers and waiting times on the tarmac to "replace computers on the plane", and flying around in circles to avoid weather patterns, and the harrowing shuttle journey to the hotel took over 15 hours.

It has been neither warm, nor particularly sunny.

But, I have been working my tail off (so to speak).

Only as this week has wound down (Thursday night, Friday, and now) have I truly started to feel the weight of my- not "homesickness" exactly- but yearning to have my babies near me. I think I just compartmentalized it fairly well at the beginning. Also, I knew that (between Katy and my in-laws) the boys were not only in good hands, but they would be distracted and having fun in my absence.

Still, attending these two conferences back to back, I have been away from my family for 11 out of the last 12 days. Even Katy and I have not spent this much time apart since we started dating.
And it has been weird to miss a week that my in-laws took to spend with our family. I've been wondering what I have missed in terms of "bonding opportunities" with them, and while I was out here in CA, my God-daughter and sweet Mac-a-doodle turned 5 years old!!! So, I felt a little sad that night that we weren't all together celebrating.

I've done my best to put the time to good use. I've met a lot of interesting and fun people. I've networked and bonded. I've gotten to spend this last week rooming with (and joking and laughing and theorizing and scheming with) Tara. Tara has been a BFF of ours since Katy's and my grad school days. This week only confirmed why: she is good people. She is real and full of brain and heart power, and loyal and honorable, and not only hilarious- but appreciates (and plays off of) my particular brand of wit. She is funny, without being trivial, and carefully measures the weight of her words and actions like only a soul-sister of mine could.

It is absurd that we ended up here this week together, and I can't help but thank God (The Tiny Baby Jesus, or whatever older version of him you prefer) for the way this trip took T and I out of our other lives and put us here, together for a week.

I also tried to use the time well- to appreciate the things a mom of small children loses out on: Sleep, "Quiet time", complex and extended adult conversation, "me time", I've done some list making and sorting through of things in my head, a kind of spring cleaning of my brain. I've also hit the gym whenever possible and done some sweating- and yesterday got myself onto some of the beaches of Malibu for a little hike.

At the end of this, I am eager to get home. But I think I am going back a little bit of a healthier person. Maybe more focused, more grateful for what I have, more (possibly?) full of energy (though taking a red-eye tonight might put a damper on that).

I can't wait to see my sweetie and our kids!

The great state of Texas

I'm on a trip to San Antonio to attend a work-related conference.

I like to get out into the world and see things and people. It's especially fun to do it in such a way that "sightseeing" is secondary to the "J-O-B" that is funding the trip. There is not a lot of pressure to see or DO IT ALL on these types of trips; doing or seeing a few small things will suffice.

And even though it is strange to be "alone" in an unfamiliar place, the voyeur in me relishes the people-watching opportunities the circumstance provides. It would be truly creepy to do this at home, but on this trip I got to shut my mouth and just watch people, without judgment, without agenda.

When I landed in Texas on Tuesday at around 4pm, I got my ass to the taxi stand, checked into the hotel, changed my clothes and "raced" on foot to the Alamo. I stopped at this place:

It was full of collectibles for adults:


And some for small children:



Also, there were a few stuffed animals:




Then I arrived at the Alamo, I was excited, about to check this off the "list of things to do in San Antonio if you are able". I snapped a photo:



When I stepped inside, I was staring in my own personal Chevy Chase/ National Lampoon's vacation movie. The park ranger announced less than 40 seconds after my arrival, "Ladies and Gentlemen, the Alamo is now closed... Please make your way to the exit." The timing of it made me lol.

Today begins the reign of the 112th congress of the USA

And here are some other highlights.

It's taken me three full days to believe that I'm back at work after the wonderful couple of weeks we've had:

1. Week before Christmas = STAYcation. Katy and I were off from work together without traveling anywhere for the first time in at least 5 years. During that time, JB got his third set of ear tubes surgically implanted (3rd in 3 years). He did great. We were home by 10 AM. He watched more TV that day than any other day of his life and quite possibly more TV than any other WEEK in his life.

2. Christmas at TT's and Bill's house. We spent the better part of 14 hours there, eating, playing, opening gifts, and eating. Did I say that twice? I meant to...

3. The grannies came for a visit. They were able to avoid wintery weather during the long commute to and from Ohio, but got to enjoy a good ol'fashioned CT blizzard while they were here. JB and ML got to build their first huge snowman and go sledding around the yard with them. (JB's had a few winters, but none where he ever wanted to TOUCH the snow before.)

4. New years weekend was relatively quiet and Katy and I enjoyed some special times alone with our boys.

Today, Katy and I went to our first wake of the year.
Tomorrow, a funeral. Not someone we know, but the dad of someone we love.

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Looking back, as I said above, we had some wonderful times over the holidays.
I feel so lucky and blessed, but I have to say, the holidays beat the shit out of me this year.
I spend a lot of time worrying. Anxiety-ridden might be a more honest analysis of the scene.

It was the first Christmas that "Santa" mattered to JB and the number of times I forgot that I didn't get something at "toys r'us" but "Santa brought it" was too many to count. He's easy to fool right now, but I've gotta get into this game, or the jig will be up by the time ML is 3...

So, I was worried about not being a good enough Santa.
I was worried about not being a good enough wife.
I was worried about money and time and family- not living up to the expectations of everyone. Or rather, not living up to my own expectations and not feeling like everyone judges me as harshly as I judge myself. I was worried about JB's impending surgery on the 21st of December. I was worried about getting the "right" gifts and not just getting gifts for the sake of getting gifts. I was worried about not being able to get done the "special gifts" like photo calendars and cookies that we planned to get done. I was worried about Katy and I not agreeing on all of these things related to gifts and how to celebrate the holidays (after all these years together, it is only now that that are kids are starting to understand a world that does not end at the tips of their fingers that Katy and I have to really start communicating about what we want the holidays to be for us and our boys). I was worried that the ways that Katy and I try to answer these questions and compromise for each other will not make sense to all of our parents - who we desperately want to be with and be respectful of but who we don't always agree with. I was worried about how I can possibly instill a sense of peace and joy and zen about Christmas (and life in general) into my children, if I am on the verge of panic all the time at this time of the year.

I was worried about work and projects that were very time sensitive and I had set a high expectation of success that would be a direct reflection of my work and require me to call in a lot of personal favors. I was worried about the weather and the house in the winter and getting the cars in the garage, and decorating, and keeping the house neat and clean, and warm! And spending enough time with the kids and trying to balance these two desires to 1) expose our kids to a lot of wonderful of people and things, get them out into the world to see lights and celebrations, and have them know family and friends that are family and 2) have quiet times alone at home with them, keep them grounded in a safe and reasonable schedule, and not drag them all over creation for things that they do not really need or understand right now.

It was a lot. And it started for me at the beginning of November. And I tried with some success to stay in the moment and did have some beautiful moments, and did (I think) manage to take care of my wife who was experiencing similar things herself... I think we did a good job with it all, but I feel like some of the (mostly self-imposed) pressure is off now. To be honest this week, I let out a big sigh of relief.

I'm going to work on this. I don't want every year to feel oxygen flushing back into my lungs with the prospect of the holidays ending. Yet, feeling a rush of Oxygen in your lungs is a good feeling, no matter how one comes by it.

So now back to the business of governing the nation...

The last monday in June

I know it has been a dog's age since I have posted...
Sometimes keeping up with this here Gin-Soaked Olive is all I want to do and when it isn't caught up, I get tense and then I think, if I could only get back to writing I would feel better, but then there are so many things that NEED to get done, that it seems selfish and silly to not do the things you should do and so you avoid spending precious time doing the thing that you WANT to do... and then when you can't do the things you need to OR the things you want to, you start to punish yourself further by imagining some large scale strategy for re-creating the stories that you have failed to post in the time you've been away...

Maybe it's just me that does all this.

Anyway, Since I've written last, these are the things I want to catch you up on:
- Josh (Katy's brother) and Linda's wedding
- Our trip to Seattle and Portland (for the wedding)
- Summer fun at the Ta-BAR pool
- Status update on the new day care
- JB's first trip to the ER and stitches
- My birthday

All in good time.

It has been an interesting few weeks (if you can't tell from that list). It has also been a HOT summer so far. We are without central air for the first time in 5 years and trust me when I tell you, we have gotten weak. I swear that JB was sweating himself awake and then hallucinating because of the weather. ML gets really red when he is hot and it looks like he has a sunburn on his face, but when you bring his body temperature down, he color returns to normal.

So just because my eyes are burning too much (fatigue and I think from all the sweat that has run into them in the last few days) I am just going to give you the highlights from today:

2010 - the last monday in june:

8:01 AM - on my way to work, it is already 85 degrees F. Katy and I have agreed that she needs to spend part of her day off bringing the boys to their doctor b/c JB needs his last stitch that hasn't disolved out of his face yet to be removed (it's been 12 days); and ML seems like he has another ear infection: slight temp, tugging at ear, tell-tale cough.

8:03 - i realize I forgot my sunglasses and go home to retrieve them

8:10 - I've made it to the highway; I look at the dash, the temp is up to 87

8:36 - at work, check voicemail: that girl we need to fire if she calls out one more time, she's called out. Check email: very angry and obnoxious email from clinician/employee

9am - text from katy: the boys have an appointment at 10 am

10 am - Meeting

11 am - call from Katy: ML does have an ear infection- his second in 6 weeks

11:30 - another email from disgruntled clinician

1:30 - meeting

2:30 - another meeting

3:30 - 3rd email from (this time) an IRATE clinician who has apparently "nothing to lose." [The bitches I work with have no problem spewing out emotional emails to the very people that sign their checks -it never ceases to amaze me... Oh, and also, being a manager in this economy is fun. Everyone assumes you are stupid and out to get them before imagining there might have been a worse option on the table that you rejected to protect them... and keep the company doors open.]

3:40- insanely awesome 15 minute downpour

4:49 - abandonment of attempted email responses to irate/disgruntled/obnoxious clinicians

5:01 - in car; temp 92 degrees

5:40pm - arrive home. ML hasn't really slept all day. Has had 2 doses of antibiotics and looks like a kid that someone left in the sun all day without sunscreen; JB tells me he "laid on the table and let Dr K take my stiches out with no fuss or moving." excellent job, baby!

6:10 I give ML a bath

6:17 I dress ML in the cutest short-pants PJs

6:20 Katy and I give ML some motrin

6:22 I give ML a bottle

6:26 ML gives me a dubious burp

6:27 ML projectile vomits all over my shirt and the family room; into my purse, splatter on the wall and the TV table

6:30 Katy comes to get ML so that I can clean up a little and get him back in the tub; i strip down to my lady skivies

6:33 I go to get ML in time to see him projectile vomit all over Katy and the upstairs bathroom; I undress him and take him in the shower with me... he falls asleep in the shower. I dress him and hold him in the glider for nearly an hour to calm both him and me. He is coughing, twitchy, and looks so tall to me, but so tiny at the same time. I meditate on all the scary times we've had with him- worrying about his health, even though for the most part he is so healthy. I do some reiki on him. I do this "forgiveness" meditation that I learned in grad school that is mostly about forgiving yourself for not being perfect. I take time taking him in and feeling the heat rise off of his body- it is 86 degrees in the room, and he has cool cheeks and forehead, but a very warm torso and noggin'. He is the sweetest kid and I can't imagine how I would handle it if something were ever seriously wrong with him, this little illness almost seems too much to bare. I like just sitting there with him, alone together while JB gets to watch another episode of Handy Manny with his mama.

7:45 I head to the store to buy air conditioners. Katy and I have toyed with the idea of installing central air, but don't know if we can really afford it this year. We haven't purchased any AC units b/c i hate window units (they block the windows ALL summer, and can ruin the windows); and b/c we think, "summers in New England" are not all that hot... just a few weeks total all summer long... and b/c we are each still holding on to the dream that one of us will produce a compelling enough argument to "bite the bullet" and hire the HVAC guy to fill our house with ducts carrying magic/cool air. June is not over and this is at least our 7th night of >80 temps at night. I speed off to keep my sweet wife and my baby boys protected from the crankiness that comes with narrowly avoiding heat stroke on a daily basis.

10pm I finish installing an AC in the boys room and an AC in our room.

10:30 I toy with my iphone for a while- the new itunes upgrade is cool and allows for me to have a little fun grouping apps into "folders"

10:48 I skip a rational bedtime and ignore the burning in my eyes to write this down for all of you.

Soon: I go to bed.

Shout out to my Nightingale...

Last Friday was Nurse's Day.

"Nurse's week" started sometime either last Wednesday or last Monday.
If you google this holiday, you will see some discrepancies and inconsistencies about the dates... I digress...

For most of my life as a nurse, i really viewed this as a hallmark holiday:

Thanks for the shout-out, Hallmark, no matter how much money you make on cards this year, you can't possibly know about being a nurse and therefore, not really honor it.

When I was a teen? pre-tween? I'm not sure when this show was on... I was addicted to China Beach. Looking back, I had a serious crush on Lt. Colleen McMurphy:
Yum: Mee:

There I go digressing again... Anyway... Sometimes I credited this show to making me want to be a nurse, I didn't want to go to war, but i could really relate to this character- Irish, catholic, who wanted to DO something that mattered, but then in the middle of it was like, "What the hell am I doing?!?"

I think i was surprised when I worked in the ICU (years later) how much it could feel like you were living through a war even though you were in a civilian hospital during "peace" time. The woman and men that I nursed with in the ICU were amazing: smart, sassy, with the quickest wit and the crass-est, sickest senses of humor you can imagine. You've got to have a strong stomach and a lot of patience for shit (of the literal and bull variety.) And they did. And they laughed and cried and picked people and pools of blood up off the floor. And we ordered Chinese take out in the middle of cardiac codes, and helped families accept the death of their loved ones, and talked and taught and fought the doctors to get them to HEAR what the patients were saying.

I wear that experience like a badge of honor on my soul. But even so, it never made me view nurses day outside of the scope of cynicism. (see made up sassy bark to Hallmark corp above...)

Then this year... when I'm so far removed from clinical care of patients that I've started to call myself a "fake" nurse, Katy wins a Nightingale Award. This is a statewide recognition of nursing excellence. And sitting next to her at the ceremony, something changes a little in me. A little of the cynicism melts away. It is more than being proud of her and thrilled that she was recognized for all the amazing work she does and has done. (Though I am and I was). It had a lot to do with what happened last October and Last January, and Last September...

A nurse was there kind of saving and protecting us when ML gushed into the world.
A nurse was there in my most terrified moments, when I wouldn't even let myself think my worst fear about his illness and fevers and seizures three weeks later.
A nurse was up all night with us when his fever wouldn't come down.
A nurse was there to help get him help when he was having seizures.
Nurses were there, talking to and teaching and sometimes fighting the doctors on our behalf.
A nurse was there during all the LPs, during the MRI, during the EEG.
... During the nights, the early mornings, and the long afternoons.
A nurse was there to help us get some rest and to help us ask the right questions.
To help us calm down a little at certain points and and to get us riled up a little at others.
Then a few months later for JB's surgery... more nurses.
Many of them nameless to me now.
Keeping us sane...

It's different when it's your kid, I guess- those cliches about angels seem somehow less "cliche-y"
There's not a greeting card out there that can convey what those nurses did for us, but now there IS a part of me that has the inclination to buy a few and TRY to convey it...

But then, here we are on Mother's day. And as I write this, my pretty Nightingale Award winner is sleeping upstairs in our bed. She's an amazing mother. Tonight, she got JB to turn off a "Terrible 2" tantrum by suggesting that he could take his "bad attitude" and decide (IF HE WANTED TO) to put that bad attitude in his hand and throw it away and choose to be in a better mood. (I swear this is true.) And what do you think that little fucker sonofa'gun did??? He decided to throw his bad mood away. He pantomimed putting something into his palm and chucking it in the garbage and then (WAIT FOR IT) he was suddenly in a pleasant mood.

blink.
blink.
blink.

Thank God I'm on this journey with such an insanely talented and smart woman. I just love her and hope she knows how much! Cause I didn't get to sign the card I bought for her today...

Happy nurses week and mother's day, baby.

As part of my gift to you, I am going to (be extremely quiet as I come) crawl into bed next to you to sleep this day off!
All my love, Me

xoxo

Overheard at the community health center

I'm walking through the lobby at my job, on the way from one side of the center to the other. I'm wearing my "business casual" with my ID around my neck, and a patient waiting in line locks eyes with me. She seems very excited to see me, though I'm pretty sure that we've never spoken to each other before...

Lady: HI!!!!
Me: How are you doing?

I keep walking as my rhetorical question has gone unanswered.

"HEY!" She has shouted this in an apparent attempt to stop me. I turn toward her and she pauses for a second as if she is not sure what she wants to say to me. "When is father's day?" She inquires innocently.

I stop, a little confused by the question, "Um..."

"The 6th of June? The 12th? Something like that, right?"

"Yeah, around there, probably the second Sunday..." I've slowed down my pace, but am still about to pass her on my way out of the waiting room.

"I'm just here getting condoms." she shouts to my back

"Oh..." I reply weakly, twisting around toward her b/c I didn't realize until this second that our conversation was continuing. "Good..."

She pauses long enough so that I start again to walk away and she sort of yells after me, "I come every month..."

I stop, turn, and am standing, looking at her from about 6 or 7 feet away.

"THEY'RE for my sons..." she continues, "15 and 17 years old... and they use them too..."

Pause. Pause. Pause

I reply, "Well that's good." She says nothing else.

I nod at her. She nods at me. Once again, I assume the conversation is over and turn to go. When I am another 10 feet away, she calls after me...

"SAFE SEX, RIGHT?!?" I turn back. She stage whispers this next part for no apparent reason, "SAAAAAFE SEX."

I nod. Then she retells the story to the person in line behind her.
I walk away having no idea what just happened.

Life at 13 weeks 6 days

Life is good.
Work is nuts.
We turned the clocks an hour forward this week.
(Is that DST? or are we out of DST? I'm not sure how it works)
Katy is still nauseous. (getting better we think)
The baby is the size of a lemon.
JB is throwing a few fits here and there.
We are tired.
The blog is suffering.
I haven't written a newsletter in 2.5 months.

Monday, I witnessed our son's very first full-blown tantrum. It was a little like a Calvin and Hobbes cartoon and included him meandering through several rooms crying, screeching, sobbing, sweating, head-banging, kicking, throwing himself on the floor, putting his head in his hands and crying on the closed toilet seat, banging his head on the wall, spinning and rolling around in little break-dancing moves... It ended in child's pose with a head butt or two thrown in for good measure before he finally calmed down enough for maternal intervention.

It was dramatic, and irritating in the moment, but still (I'm not going to lie) cute. JB is a sweetie 90% of the time. The fact that he is starting to have opinions is "interesting," but it is new enough that it is still a source of pride to me.

He struggles and suffers through the eye drops every morning and at night; crying and fighting with all of his limbs flailing and no amount of calm words or pleading on our part can get him to understand what we are doing. He seals his eyelids closed against the antimicrobial medication, as if we were pouring liquid mercury into them. Katy found a way to make us feel better about torturing him: When the drops are in at the end of all the fussing, we say, "Say 'thank you'." And through the sniffles, he loyally gives us a slightly hesitant "tth-hank-cue."

And we quiver in silent laughter that he's so pliable.

Here are some pics from a birthday party this weekend
(right before the pink eye attacked.)

Oh, a car... Excellent! I think I'll play "in and out of the car" for 25 minutes!


"beep beep"



"HEY BUDDY, GET OUT OF THE WAY OF MY CAR!!!"


"Vrrrrrummmmmm...."

The crawl

There is so much going on that the desire to blog consumes me and the actualization of that desire is delusional.

Work is a clusterfuck horror-show right now. We've been experiencing chaotic institutional change and threats that are imagined, perceived, and alarmingly real. Obviously, the details are too ripe to post here, but take my word for it: SNAFU of the highest order. "Fight-flight" and the power-charge you get from an emergent challenge take you far for about 5 weeks. I've been working all day, coming home and powering up the laptop until well after bedtime.

At the beginning, I was even in good spirits about it - it's been like a slow code and I do miss the old days of hanging blood, cracking ribs, and pushing epinephrine. But now, my brain is turning to mush and my psyche is pretty badly dinged up. I keep my wits about me, literally. Keeping my team laughing is probably my central purpose at this point, but every day brings another detail that is essentially no laughing matter. If you had told me a few months ago what would be going on right now, I would have laughed, slapped your ass, and told you to shove off. Needless to say, I have needed to put a lot more time and energy into work. But more than hours, the shit there is practically always on my mind. It's a veil over my head and I'm distracted by it all the time. Entire 8 or 10 hour work days go by without me having the mental where-with-all to call home. (Not the literal, physical "home" we live in [no one is there during the work day], but the day care or the cell phone that katy carries around when she takes my "home/heart" out into the world.)

Katy is holding down the fort of sanity right now. Trouble is, she is physically compromised due to the fig-sized fetus that we planted inside of her several weeks ago. We have been trying to keep it a little mum, but now that Mackenzie knows about it, the cat is pretty much out of the bag. Always in the form of a question, she knows all and tells the world as much:

Mac 7 weeks ago: "Why are you toasting? Why are you saying congratulations to katy? Why? what's going on?"
Mac 4 weeks ago: "Where is Katy? Why is katy home? Why is katy sleeping? Why does Katy's belly hurt her?"
Mac 1 week ago: "You have a baby in there?" "You're having a baby?" "The baby makes you sick?" "You are having a baby grow in your belly?" "Katy has a baby?" "What's the baby's name?"

We will hopefully hear the baby's heartbeat on Tuesday. And then we will welcome the unadulterated sigh of celebratory planning.

As eluded to above, Katy has been feeling craptastic. Puking, dry heaves, queasy and everything like that. She is falling asleep on the couch at about 7 or 8pm daily. Then she wakes up, and heads to bed between 9 and 10pm beckoning me to accompany her.

Aside from being puky, she is physically warm- a veritable incubator. When i crawl into bed next to her, the temperature is shocking. It is so unusual for her to be throwing this much heat, that I sometimes imagine a hatted, southpaw fetus, spitting fluid and getting ready for the big show.

Today, after a wicked work week capped off by a very fun but kind of crazed-paced Saturday, it rained. It rained the kind of cold rain that should be snow. The kind of cold rain you expect in February. Rain that is 2 or 3 degrees too warm to ice over busy highways. Two years ago, rain like that on a Sunday would have put my wife and me under covers watching movies in bed all day.

Today we had the 1.5 year old to entertain. We putzed and played and grew a tiny bit bored and at some point threw our swimsuits on under our sweats and headed out to the pool. That's right, we belong to a pool. I know what you're thinking, "but we've never heard you speak of 'the pool' before???" When I was pregnant with JB (and even before that) we swam quite a bit- we went to the pool a few times a week to swim laps. And then the pregnancy progressed, and then the c-section, and then all the breastfeeding, and then the baby was too little, and then katy went back to work, and then I went back to work, and then all the ear infections, and don't forget about the laziness... you get the picture.

For some people this is a no brainer - "Quit the pool!!! JUST STOP SENDING YOUR 40 BUCKS EVERY MONTH!!!" But for us this gets all wrapped up in why we're not more active, and not wanting to give up on fitness and being "ready" to work out if the opportunity presents itself. It's hard to stop spending money on the gamble that you might wake up one day and want to suddenly be a better, healthier person.

So we take JB for the first time to the pool that there is no way for him to know he is a member of. It's not the first time he's been in water or a pool, but there is a unique feature of our pool. The kiddie-pool shallow part is a ramp. You walk into it like you are walking into the ocean. Allow me to explain with a visual image that is not really drawn to scale:


The Dark Blue is the regular, larger part of one of the pools (it is longer and wider than it appears here). That pool is 4 to 7 feet deep and the red lines indicate swim lanes. The Yellow is the beginning of the ramp and has water only barely covering your toes. The Green part is 5-7 feet of water that is less than a foot deep, and the Aqua area gradually goes to 2-ish feet as you round the corner and head into the bigger pool. The point of all of this is that JB gets to walk into and around in water that is waist and chest high and doesn't have to be carried all around to explore pool/swimming options.

He started hesitant, but quickly grew to enjoy himself. At first, he wouldn't walk into the water but wanted to be carried. After he realized that he could safely navigate the shallow water, he wanted to explore. Several times he walked right into water that was higher than his mouth or fell completely into water that was a foot deep. We were right there to buoy him up and he came out of the drink every time coughing and sputtering a little, but also laughing.

Watching him in this environment might have been my favorite hour of parenting so far. It was relaxing and simplistic; exciting and mellow. It doesn't hurt that I like the water so much myself. Just being in shallow water with my wife and son made me so happy. For a split second, I wished we had the camera to take photos or video, but I quickly tossed that notion aside. "Be.here.now." I told myself. There was no way to really document these feelings anyway.

JB was beside himself with what can only be described as excited joy. When he ventured out a little bit alone with me, I would point out katy to him. From a distance, he would flail about ecstatic when he caught a glimpse of her. When she had him and his eyes re-located me, he would excitedly slap his chest like a gorilla. But mostly we were all three together. We passed him back and forth, log-tossed him a little. Put him on a kick-board, let him hang on to our floating toes... He put his face in the water, tried to imitate me blowing bubbles, he got on his belly to "swim", he got on his back and "kicked", he held onto my neck and rode on my back as I took him into the bigger pool. By the end, he was walking in an out pretty independently. Then, he was jumping from a seated position and then standing position into my arms off the side of the pool. I couldn't have been prouder if he suddenly counted to 100. It was nothing but fun. And I guess if we needed to quantify it, totally worth the year and 1/2 of membership dues that we obligingly paid despite not using the facilities.

The week in review

Last Sunday, we went to church, finished staging our insanely clean abode for the impending open house, went back to church for the first of 3 "new members" classes we have been trying to take for several years, and then packed several bags to vacate the house for the rest of the day for the (previously mentioned) open house.

We then went for an amazing hike. We were outside in some of the nicest fall weather for just under 2 hours, my sister, bro-in-law, nieces, papa, son, wife and I taking turns carrying and pushing kids, huffing, puffing, resting, taking pictures, and breathing it all in.

Today, katy and I considered that it might have been that hike and that sweaty, breezy, outside time getting our heart rates up just that little bit, spending time in nature with family that prevented us from falling to pieces during the events of the next 5 days.

On my way out the door this past Monday, I got a call from work that JayCo - the credentialing body for our institution was coming for their unannounced survey... They don't tell you they are coming except the morning of their arrival one can find a post on their website revealing who will be surveyed that day. That's how we learned, "JayCo is ON THE WAY!" And so began the 3 day survey we have been anticipating every day since the first of the year. These were days that required my arrival at work in the 7am range and leaving at about 6pm.

On Monday, I came home, bathed the baby, put him to bed and worked until 2 am finishing up a binder of competency trainings I've been "working on" all year. Tuesday, I missed seeing the baby before bed by 10 minutes. But then hit the sack by 9pm.

Wednesday, when it was almost over, Katy got a call from day care to learn that JB had a temp of 101. She cancelled her patients, brought him to the doctor, got him on antibiotics and then we rushed home to host book club.

Thursday had me bringing our sick baby (who could not be sent to day care within 24 hours of a fever) and 3/4 of our house to work with me (ie-stroller, pack and play, portable highchair, 3 bags of food and supplies) for half a day. At the midway point of the morning I realized that JB had a raging rash on his trunk... drug allergy? Not sure, but nervous. I called and by 3pm the kid had been to the pediatrician 2 times in less than 24 hours. (Are we good moms or what?!?) At around the point I was noticing his rash, I got a call that my gram was bleeding in places that she shouldn't and was going to the hospital emergency room.

Yesterday was a full day of work. JB back to day care, but me worried about his health b/c we decided to stay on the antibiotics since it didn't really look like a "drug rash". My sister played the part of super aunt so my mom could go to my gram's bedside and Katy and I could attend the fundraiser that we were committed to, playing supporting roles on the "host committee". (Let's just say, we are really into supporting gay rights).

I'm tired.

But I am lucky as hell.
To have the wife I have.
To have this life.

But I am so tired.

Mama's home

The family is back together :)
Katy is back from her conference...

I have a lot more respect for single parents than I did before.
This week I drove 750 miles in 5 days: A trip to Boston to see the Sox get annihilated (first time in Fenway park in more than 4 years) and then a trip to RI for work. The day I had to travel for work, I had to have Nana do a day care drop off at 7:15am and the poor dude (JB) was at work camp from 7:15am to 5:15pm.

Reporting from Los Angeles County

I'm currently in LA for a "business trip". The business is learning more about insulin pumps and continuous monitoring. It's been fantastic so far with a beautiful drive up the Pacific Coast Highway and then through the Topanga Canyon. Last night a dinner at the 'Changs. And today a lovely walk through the history of implantable medical devices, specifically insulin pumps. Tonight, a dinner at Roy's (a restaurant, not someone I know). Tomorrow, the long flight home to see my boo and my baby boo.

Missing home... but trying to party like I'm in Minnesota like my wife implored me to do....

Day Care is quiet

When we picked JB's day care, we chose one in the town of Midpoint. Midpoint is half way between my work and home. It is also the town I grew up in, play softball in, and and the town my parents, grandparents, and sister & BIL live. Our day care was Mac and Cam's day care and that seemed like a good place for JB too- with his cousins.

Coxsackie spread like a wildfire through the place last week. Cam got it and JB got it too, though b/c he was home with Katy all week and b/c he only had one day of fever and the late arrival of a rash, we didn't know that until his pediatric appointment yesterday.

Cam was sick, my sister was away, and my mom is off for the summer, so the girls were at Nana and Papa's house all last week. Also, because of a self-imposed quarantine (thinking the boy had not been exposed) we stayed away all week. This week, there was a pre-arranged "week of potty training" for Mac-attack that has prolonged the sabbatical from day care for my nieces. (They are both at nana and papa's again b/c my mom cannot stand "leaving one behind," and at our day care, we can arrange a week at 1/2 off the day care price if you give notice that the kids will be out for a pre-planned 5 day stretch, unrelated to illness.)

I'm not sure if JB even notices it, but day care is quiet and lonely without my (sister's) girls there. Even pick up (despite JB's hugs and smiles) is little empty when there is no shout of "TeeeeeeeeTeeeee."

Drop off is even more depressing without my morning hug from Mac and wave from Cam... Driving away this AM, I pouted in silence most of the way to work.

The mess he made...

I'm home from work for a couple of days after being away at a conference. So we played at home to avoid any more potential exposure to that coxsackie nonsense (which poor cam-cam seems to have contracted):



I think he learned to wave today. Or at least he learned the motion; I'm not convinced he knows what it's for, or even that it's his own hand moving. Video evidence to follow.

at the conference

Posting from the conference attendee lounge at the NP conference...

having a great time, mostly because of the friends that are here. the classes have been so-so so far but the pool and gym have been great!

I miss the boy a TON. I miss Tracy too but I've been apart from her for 5 days in a row before. Him, not so much. Tracy was kind enough to send video and pics by phone this morning which of course made me nearly cry until I shook my head and returned to thinking about the renin-angiotensin system in hypertension.

sigh.

i have an amazing life.

now on to re-learning ECG interpretation.

Because i'm trying to be a good employee...

The blog suffers...

But I think we can all agree that having to see that last post hanging up there is a little more than pathetic. Poor JB and his constipation what kind of f'ed up mother am I???

We are doing well. Work is mind numbing and boring and still overwhelming. But spending the mornings and evenings with our kid is awesome. There is so much to do and pay attention to (in terms of making sure he has what he needs for the day, and keeping him fed and watered.) Katy and I are still having the issue of not communicating clearly about division of labor where our son is concerned. That results in both of us "planning" on doing everything. I'm running around trying to get his bottles together and Kt has already done it... I've packed his bibs for day care and Kt is trying to figure out where all the clean bibs went. It is a harder lesson than it should be to have a chat and "make a plan" instead of each of us making a "mental plan" that we don't share with the other.

I'm on point though, b/c the little woman is going south for a conference and JB and I are on our own for about 5 days... it should be interesting.